James POV
Sunday, 12th June, 16:00 - "Reggie, when was the last time you saw sunlight?"
"We're not talking about this again," Regulus sighed, not looking up from his book. "I know what sunlight is, James."
"Didn't ask if you knew what it was," James grinned. "I asked when you'd last seen it."
He rested his chin on the other boy's shoulder and glanced down at his work. Herbology. Probably the only subject Regulus ever had the mildest difficulty with, and only because he didn't like it. When he didn't respond, James pointed at the page with his quill.
"See, Puffapods get plenty," he said.
"Puffapods are also bright pink and release dizziness-inducing spores," Regulus replied, still not looking at him.
James smirked, leaning to whisper in his ear,
"I reckon you can be pretty dizziness-inducing, too."
His heart flipped when Regulus finally turned to face him. That had been the goal, after all. A red flush was spreading delicately over his cheekbones; something he couldn't hide behind the irritated spark in his eyes, however much he was clearly trying to. Smiling, James tucked a few curly strands of hair behind his ear. Regulus closed his eyes.
"Don't."
"Don't what?" he asked innocently.
"You're distracting me."
"Good," James huffed, leaning on his shoulder and sliding his arms around his waist. "You need distracting. You've been at this for hours."
"So have you."
Even before the words left his mouth, they both knew it was bollocks.
"Reggie, you're well aware that I've been pissing around since two."
"And you're well aware that you don't have to be here if you don't want to," Regulus said, breath catching as James pressed his lips to his neck.
"I do want to," James told him, in between peppering soft kisses all over his skin. "'Cause you're here. But you need to take a break."
"No, I don't."
"An hour," he wheedled; he nudged his nose against Regulus' cheek, earning a small chuckle even as the younger boy shook his head. "C'mon. Give me an hour, Reggie. We'll go outside, and you can show me your reading tree, and we can relax for a bit. Then we'll come straight back and I'll work until dinner. No complaints. Promise."
"Until dinner?"
He nodded earnestly. Regulus hesitated. It looked as though he was actually analysing through the pros and cons of the compromise in his mind, which wouldn't have surprised James in the slightest. When he frowned, glancing back down at his parchment with obvious reluctance on his face, James reached out and turned it over. It ached to see Reggie like this, so tense and serious and adamant to ignore his own exhaustion. Granted, he was always like that. But the upcoming exams were making it all worse, and James was determined to make it better again.
"Fine," Regulus said at last. "An hour. That... sounds nice."
James was already smiling, but when Regulus put down his quill just to pull him in for a quick kiss, he ended up beaming like an absolute dunderwhelp.
"That's my little Puffapod," he said happily.
And didn't quite duck away fast enough from the roll of parchment that promptly batted him over the head.
* * *
After weeks of relentless, drizzling rain, the appropriate June weather was finally deciding to show itself. Sunlight doused the grounds in gold, making the trees look greener and the lake look clearer, a deep, glistening navy blue. Tempting, actually, but James had an idea of how well that would go down with Regulus. Fields of daises were strewn over the grass - they took to stepping nimbly through the bare patches so as not to trample them - and it was warm, James thought, but not too warm. Not so hot that it prickled at his skin and made him drowsy just by being awake, but mild enough to whip off his cloak and roll up the sleeves of his shirt.
He never used to do that. Ever. Including in the middle of summer. Back in first year, even before that, people tended to gawk at the dark, soft hair on his arms. The hair that stood out thicker and blacker than anyone else's against his brown skin. They would stare and make shitty remarks and James quickly took to pulling his sleeves all the way down to his wrists every day, no matter how hot it got. His first ventures with the invisibility cloak were to the library in the dead of night, flicking through book after book searching for hair-removal spells so that he could look like everyone else until, he reckoned, about the beginning of second year, when he decided not to care anymore. Being looked at a lot became something he owned and enjoyed, and the hair-removal spells came in handy for jinxing anyone who still commented; so now, he made a point of doing it all the time. It was strangely freeing.
Plus, James was well aware that each time he shoved his sleeves up to his elbows, ideally messing up his hair a bit as well, Regulus stared for a very different reason. That was cause enough for him. Alas, as they approached the broad oak tree that stood not far from the Dark Lake, he remained under the invisibility cloak. Just in case.
"I haven't been here for a while," Regulus said thoughtfully as they sat down beneath it; around the back, concealed from the castle by its trunk. "I told you about it a long time ago - I'm surprised you remember."
"Yup," James shrugged, stuffing the cloak in his pocket with a grin. "S'pose I'm just the world's best boyfriend."
Regulus rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it. He'd take that. They talked for a bit then - about exams, mostly, but at least they weren't studying - and eventually settled into a comfortable quiet. James had never liked the quiet before. But now, and always with him, it was just simple and slow and lovely. An hour. He could have stayed there forever. Beside him, Regulus began to gently pluck daises from the ground.
For someone so clever with words, Reggie sometimes gave the impression of having little use for them. It was James who spoke, who filled the silences that needed filling, who was generally was the first to say good morning and good night. And I love you. But he didn't mind, because Regulus showed him all of that, as well as saying it back; it was in his touch and his kisses, every smile that danced its way across his lips and every look, filled with quiet affection that seemed to glow on his face. And the way he said things, too. Weirdly, James never felt more warm and cherished than when Regulus called him an idiot.
He fished the golden snitch from his pocket and tossed it up and down a few times, perfectly content to listen to the swishing of hundreds of trees brushing together in the Forbidden Forest - peaceful to the point of eerie - as opposed to his own voice for a bit longer. It was still bright; the grass around them was mottled by the shade of the tree, yet still was gleaming.
James continued flicking the snitch into the air, catching it, throwing it to the other hand and back. Pretending that he was focused on that, when in reality, his eyes were fixed on Regulus. The younger boy had gathered a small pile of daises and had started weaving them together; James watched, mesmerised, as his long, delicate fingers made thin slits in the stalks, then looped them through one another and repeated the motion in perfect rhythm. Before long, a short daisy chain began to form, curled up in his lap. His eyes shimmered silver in the light that peeped through the leaves, and his hair shone like spilled ink. He pierced, thread, twirled and did it all again.
The image called to mind the children's storybooks that they used to read in Muggle Studies classes: bright tales of creatures and spirits claimed by Muggles to reside deep in the forest. With his dainty ears and pointed nose, James couldn't help thinking that Regulus looked just like a woodland fairy in a Hogwarts uniform. All he needed was a pair of wings, perhaps a sparkly dress...
"What are you smiling at?" Regulus asked, somewhat suspiciously as he picked the next daisy from between them.
"Nothing," James grinned . He leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. "You're just pretty."
Setting the string of daises down over his knee, Regulus blinked and looked at him.
"You say that a lot," he noted. His voice was quiet.
"Yeah, 'cause you are," James said, confused before a thought occurred to him. He added softly, "I mean, you're handsome too. I'll say that instead, if you want."
Regulus gave him a small smile, then went back to weaving and twirling the stretch of stems in his lap. "Both are nice," he said. "I just... never thought of myself as either."
James' first instinct was to yelp How?!, but, thankfully he just about swallowed it down in time.
"You are," he said instead. "...But I get that."
"Do you?"
Regulus didn't sound sceptical, but rather surprised. James didn't blame him; as long as they had known each other, he hadn't been exactly shy.
"Yeah."
And he explained the things used to feel, and sometimes still felt, about himself - being embarrassed by his skin and where he came from, seeing the other boys in the changing rooms at flying lessons and wishing he looked like them. The so far successful attempt at learning to love it all, now. As he spoke, Regulus put his daises down again and watched him carefully, an unreadable expression on his face. Then when James finished with a shrug and a smile, he reached out and touched his arm. Softly and slowly, he let his fingers run down the skin of James' forearm, to his wrist, his palm, before threading their hands together.
"I have always thought you're beautiful," he said quietly.
James melted.
"Even when you hated my guts?" he breathed.
"Even when I wanted to," Regulus corrected, voice dropping to a whisper that danced over his skin and had his heart swooping into his stomach.
He leaned forward and their lips slotted together, smooth, warm and perfect, and it felt so right that James wondered whether they were ever supposed to be apart. Clearly, they were; only a few moments passed in delight before Regulus broke the kiss. But there was this sweet smile on his face, as he picked up the chain of daises and continued the rhythm of wreathing them together, that was enough to keep James' heart swooping.
"How d'you do that?" he marvelled, shifting closer to get a better view of his work.
And of his elegant hands, which James would definitely have taken in his own and kissed, if he fancied being swatted over the head again. Never disturb Reggie whilst he concentrated on something. Or do, but only with caution.
"Sirius taught me when we were children," Regulus told him. "We would pick all of the flowers we could find in our garden and hide them in his bedroom, then make them into chains at night. He liked wearing them in his hair."
"Yeah, bet he did," James smiled. "Did your... did they ever find out?"
Regulus gave a short nod. "Kreacher found the flowers once and had to tell Mother. She burned them in front of us."
An awful jolt struck through his chest.
"Reggie, that must've been horrible," he said seriously, laying a hand on his shoulder. "She did that just 'cause-"
"-Because real men don't wear flowers in their hair," Regulus finished flatly.
Not knowing what else to do, James gently took the chain from him and fumbled the the two ends together to make a fragile crown of daises. Carefully, he lifted it up and dipped his head, settling the flowers so they sat atop his hair. Regulus watched him, just beginning to smile again, and James kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Yes they do," he said firmly.
Regulus held his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. Relieved, James squeezed back.
"...Can I keep this?"
"Of course," Regulus said. "That's what I made it for."
"For me?" James beamed.
"Yes," he chuckled. "It suits you."
"'Course it does," James said breezily, reclining in leisure against the trunk. "I'm drop-dead gorgeous. Everything suits me."
"Are you... flirting with yourself for me?"
"Yup. It's working." He sighed theatrically, brushing the back of his hand over his forehead. "I'm going all weak at the knees."
Laughing, Regulus too leaned back, curling up in the arm James wrapped around him and slipping a hand over his stomach.
"Oi, Reggie."
The younger boy glanced up. His cheek was pressed against James' shoulder, getting ever so slightly squashed, and it might well have been the sweetest thing he had ever seen.
"Will you teach me to make those daisy chains?" he asked. "We can give one to Padfoot. For his hair."
Regulus nodded and held him a little tighter. "I like that idea," he said softly, then reached into James' left trouser pocket and took out the pocket watch inside.
It had been a seventeenth birthday present from his parents, and, honestly, Regulus used it more than he did at this point. He checked the time, and James felt him go a little tense.
"One hour and four minutes."
"C'mon, then," James said, planting a kiss on the top of his head. "To the library. Till dinner - I promised, right?"
"What about the daisies?"
"We'll pick some now and you can show me later," he suggested. "In the dorm?"
Instead of answering, Regulus stood up and helped James to his feet, then drew him in for a long kiss.
"Thank you," he said, as James reluctantly went to hide back under the cloak.
They began the journey back to the castle side by side, and he smirked to himself.
"Anything for my Puffapod."
"Don't call me that, Potter."
"Yeah, you know how that'll turn out for you... Reggie."
"I will not hesitate to Locomotor Charm you into the Dark Lake."
"I sort of want you to do that now."
"Then I won't do it."
"Oh, go on - please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Prettiest please?"
"You're insufferable."
"You love it."
"...Yes, I do."
Saturday, 18th June, 8:43 - When James emerged from the shower that morning to see Remus Lupin wearing a leather jacket, he very nearly fell over.
"Moony!" he gaped.
"Shut up," Remus said, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.
"No," James beamed. "You look amazing! That jacket— "
"Oi!"
An outraged-looking Sirius appeared from beneath the bed those two now shared, clad in torn black jeans, his favourite Queen t-shirt and the trusty pair of silver-spiked docs that, in his words, Walburga Black would have liked to burn. He got to his feet and marched to stand protectively beside Remus; which might have appeared more intimidating if not for the large quantity of chocolate bars in his arms, or the crown of enchanted daises that had not left his head since James and Regulus gave it to him.
"Hands off, Potter," he warned. "He's mine. ...And you're going out with my brother!"
"I'm aware of that!" James said indignantly, wandering over to his drawers to find clothes. "It's not like I was saying Reggie wouldn't also look amazing in a leather jacket..."
He paused, thought, and made a mental note to buy Regulus a leather jacket as soon as humanly possible.
"Careful, Prongs, you're drooling all over the carpet," Remus said dryly.
James flipped him off.
"I think you look nice too, Moony," Peter piped up, in the middle of gingerly packing a bouquet of flowers into a rucksack.
"What about-"
"-And you, Padfoot," he added hastily. "Why're you all dressed up?"
"We're, erm, going to Hogsmeade," Remus said, almost starting to look shy. "As in, together."
"What, together together?" James said eagerly.
"Yep!" Sirius grinned. He dropped the chocolate unceremoniously on the floor, just to take Remus' hand and kiss his knuckles. "I'm taking Moony on a date, 'cause I'm the best."
"What if people see you?" Peter asked worriedly.
"Shut up, Pete," James snapped. "They-"
"S'alright," Remus said quickly. "We've sort of decided not to give a shit anymore. If people find out..." He shrugged again, squeezed Sirius' hand. "They find out."
"After all, I've got a gorgeous boyfriend," Sirius smirked. "Why shouldn't I show him off?"
"...Hence the jacket," Remus muttered, trying not to look pleased as Sirius leaned up and kissed his jaw. "He made me wear it."
"And you look even more gorgeous than usual."
Suddenly, James flew across the dorm and swept them both up into a hug.
"I'm so bloody proud of you two," he mumbled into someone's shoulder.
"Erm, cheers?" Remus said weakly.
"Thanks, Prongsie!" Sirius beamed as they pulled away.
Stepping back, James looked between them, feeling more emotional than was perhaps necessary.
"Listen, if anyone says anything," he said in a low voice. "I'll shove my wand so far down their throat they'll shit it back out again."
"You're such a good mate," Sirius sighed, then attempted to knock him over in another hug as whilst Remus looked on, exasperated.
"Um... I'd do that, too," Peter said uncertainly. "And I won't be coming with everyone else, either. Bella's got exams next week, so I'm taking her out."
"Ah, the flowers?" Sirius said, nodding knowingly.
"Yep. Maybe you could go with just the girls, Prongs?" Peter suggested.
"No need," James grinned. "I'm surprising Reggie later. It's our fifth monthiversary."
Sirius made loud gagging noises.
"Hogsmeade too?" Remus asked, ignoring him.
"Nope," he said brightly, grin growing wider. "The seaside!"
"...You what?"
"There's this beach I've been to with my mum and dad, and I've been practising my apparition for months," he explained in an excitable rush. "And Reggie's got exams too, and he's been studying non-stop, so I wanted to do something really nice, y'know? And it's Hogsmeade weekend, so his house won't notice he's gone, and I'm telling everyone else I'm staying for Quidditch, and if we get out the castle through the witch passage, I can apparate us!"
"...Prongs," Sirius said flatly. "You're making me look bad."
* * *
'Reggie,
Meet me after breakfast by the statue of the witch who developed the Dragon-Pox cure. Don't bring books.
~ J xxx
P.S. I love you!'
The note should have floated into the Slytherin dorm roughly two minutes after Regulus snuck back to his bed, if James hadn't messed up the charm. Sure enough, when he turned onto the corridor where the one-eyed witch stood, Regulus was waiting for him. Looking displeased; that part was probably the whole 'no books' thing. James had been hoping that by concealing their meeting place behind a History riddle, he might get away with what he was about to try.
"Morning, Reggie!" he said cheerfully, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"I slept in your bed last night," Regulus replied. "And every night, for that matter. You don't need to bid me good morning twice."
"Fine, I take it back then," James retorted, with no venom to his voice. "Happy?"
"I will be once you explain why we're here."
"Right!"
Carefully, trying not to get his hopes up, James told him the plan. At first, as he expected, Regulus was reluctant. With exams coming up the next week, the fact he'd never actually been to the seaside before, the question of whether there would be a lot of people who might see them together, James was surprised the younger boy didn't shut the idea down on the spot. Eventually, though, once he pointed out that taking his mind elsewhere just for a day might help to clear his head in advance of the exams, Regulus relented.
"Okay," he said. "We can go."
"Brilliant!"
James swung his bag off onto the floor and began to rummage inside it.
"You'll need these," he said briskly, handing Regulus a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from inside.
He'd nicked them from Sirius before breakfast. Despite Regulus being a year younger, the brothers were about the same height - much to Sirius' annoyance - so James had just gone ahead and picked out what he thought Reggie would be most likely to wear. Plain black on black.
"Why?" Regulus demanded, peering at the clothes with a suspicion that would have suggested James had strolled up to him carrying a large toad and said, 'Here, hold this!'
"'Cause we have to look like Muggles," James explained. "You'll draw too much attention in robes. I mean, you draw attention anyway..."
Likely just to shut him up, Regulus took the clothes and headed to the nearest bathroom to change. Five minutes later, he returned, and James almost fell over for the third time that morning. The second was a completely unrelated incident involving the portrait hole.
Usually, in his flowing robes, gleaming signet ring and general air of hauteur, Regulus resembled some sort of noble aristocrat. But dressed like this, with his hair a little dishevelled from pulling on the shirt and an expression of complete discomfort with it all on his face, he just looked like an adorably awkward, sulky teenager. Which, beneath it all, is exactly what he was.
"I look ridiculous," he sniffed.
Smiling, James grabbed his hand and led him to the now open passage.
"You look perfect," he said.
Regulus POV
There were a lot of aspects to everything that happened in the next half an hour that Regulus didn't like. He didn't like being entirely unprepared, he didn't like the strange clothing, he didn't like the sensation of being harshly compressed from all sides by space itself as they apparated. But he did like James, a lot. And he trusted James, a lot, which was a feeling he wasn't used to. Perhaps he didn't like that either, in fact, but there was no time to dwell on it because when he opened his eyes, they were at the seaside.
Regulus had never been to the seaside. He had been to few places but for Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts. The word brought to mind sunshine.
They had apparated straight onto the beach; beside him, James muttered a reassuring "Thank Merlin", before glancing around and taking off the invisibility cloak. Regulus was busy staring to notice. At everything: the pale, yellowish-grey sand, the stretches of coarse cliffs that towered on either edge, the strewn seaweed by the shore, the clusters of smooth stones and shells that scattered the ground, the rows of shabby huts lining the narrow street behind them, the sea.
It was vast. Colossal, rivalled only by the sky, Regulus thought, in its frightening immensity. White foam bubbled up over each churning wave, leaving streaks of froth at the shoreline upon their retreat. The water writhed and rippled, a deep grey-blue beneath the clouds. He decided that it was beautiful. Daunting, but beautiful.
There was no rain yet. However much the clouds were evidently tempted. The shock of salty wind was so strong that goosebumps had risen on his skin before he even realised that it was cold. No sunshine. Regulus didn't care.
He was still lost in thought and wonder, up until the moment he felt a comforting weight on his shoulders, a soft feeling on his exposed skin. At first, he assumed James was putting an arm around him; in reality, the older boy was wrapping him in a blanket.
"You okay?" he asked, standing close and speaking in his ear, so as not to raise his voice over the wind.
His breath was warm. Regulus shivered pleasantly.
"I'm fine," he said, voice quiet and head light. "I like it here."
This brought to James' face a smile that more than made up for the clouds.
"C'mon," he said eagerly; he stepped back, scanned their surroundings, then took Regulus' hand. "We'll find a bit of shelter from the wind."
They walked towards one of the cliffs, beneath which several huge, craggy rock formations lay. The surface was sharp and gritty, but easy enough to climb. Passing more than one murky rock pool on the way, they clambered up and found a smooth stretch of rock by the wall of the cliff. Tufts of grass stuck out from the stone, along with a stream of ants and a few straggling weeds; it was quiet, less blustery than in the middle of the beach.
James hauled himself up a few seconds after Regulus, and crawled over to sit beside him on the ridge. He took out two Butterbeers and sent the caps soaring off with a flick of his wand, catching them a second later. Then he handed one to Regulus, who was frowning.
"Jealous that I'm allowed to do magic wherever?" James said smugly.
"Very much so," he admitted.
"Ha."
As if to taunt him further, James pointed his wand at a particularly wilted dandelion that was struggling through a crack in the rock and swished it. A cloud of blue light glided from the tip, engulfing the dandelion and causing it to almost bounce back to life, bright yellow and perky. James leaned over to pick it, then presented it to Regulus with a gracious, seated half-bow.
"For you."
"Thank you," Regulus said, amused yet acutely aware of the gentle blossoming in his stomach. "Though you should be careful; if a Muggle sees you performing magic-"
"-Yeah, I know," James said breezily. "But look around, Reggie. There's no one here."
That much was true. The beach wasn't enormous, like the ocean that framed it, and was completely empty but for them. One or two dog-walkers wandered past in front of the huts, but didn't come anywhere near enough to see them clearly.
The sand beneath them was fine, the water's edge welcoming despite the briskness of the tide; it gave the impression that on a brighter afternoon, perhaps during a school holiday, it would be teeming. But at that exact moment, it was all for them.
Regulus took a sip of Butterbeer, grateful for the tingling warmth that spread through him with it. Though that might have been James shuffling closer to share the blanket and draping an arm around his waist. Keeping an eye on the distant street, Regulus leaned snugly into him.
"Where are we?"
It was the first time he'd thought to ask.
"Cornwall," James told him. "Can't remember what the beach is called, to be honest. Haven't been here in years. I remember it being warmer."
Regulus chuckled. Too comfortable to sit up, he settled for kissing James' neck.
"I like it," he said again, delighting in the pinkish tinge that crept across the older boy's cheeks.
"Good," James said happily. "We can still get ice-cream later though, if you want. There's a shop up that road somewhere."
"I've never tried ice-cream."
"You what?"
He shrugged. There was a shop that sold it on Diagon Alley, he knew, but that tended not to be the priority on his school equipment list. Clearly, the case for James was the opposite.
"I can't believe this." Abruptly, he stood up and offered Regulus his hand. "I'm introducing you to the joys of ice-cream. Right bloody now."
"We just sat down," Regulus pointed out, but took his hand anyway and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.
"Yeah," James said sheepishly. "But ice-cream."
* * *
But ice-cream indeed. They made their way back to the ground, where James practically skipped up ahead towards the road. Apparently, he had traded some galleons for Muggle currency with Remus; whether or not he knew how to use it was a different question entirely.
The shop James dragged him to was small, and obviously attempting to be vibrant. Faded images of beach balls and surfers were plastered to the windows, and the compact shelves were stocked with so many garishly colourful packets of Merlin-knows-what that Regulus didn't know where to look. It was also eerily quiet compared to Wizarding stores, seeing as there were no explosions or foods o sale that actively fizzed until the expiration date was reached.
Thankfully, James seemed to know what he was doing to a marginal degree, getting into a cheerful conversation with the woman behind the counter about the weather. As she handed over the ice-creams and he carefully counted out the tiny, strangely dull coins, James took it upon himself to compliment the excellent use of electricity in the lights. The shopkeeper gave him an odd look, but still smiled politely as they left the shop, door shutting behind them with a feeble 'ding'.
"Electricity?" Regulus asked, gingerly taking the dripping cone that James passed him as they walked.
"It's a Muggle thing," was the knowing reply. "Learned all about it for O.W.Ls- No, bollocks! Don't think about O.W.Ls! How's the ice-cream? Life-changing, right? I just got you strawberry - that's my favourite, but mint chocolate's great too..."
Regulus was content to let him ramble. Once back on the beach, they returned to the rocks; they took it in turns holding the ice-creams whilst the other climbed. There they sat on the stone, huddled side by side under the same soft blanket, and watched the sea. The sun peered curiously through the clouds.
"I'm glad you let me bring you here," James said thoughtfully, once they finished their ice-creams.
"So am I." Regulus turned to face him, and chuckled.
"What?"
"You've got some on your nose."
"Cheers," James grinned, drawing his wand to cast a quick Scourgify Charm over them both, sticky hands and all. "Better?"
"No," he snorted. "You've also got it in your hair. How does one get ice-cream in their hair?"
"Oh, it's a talent." With a heavy sigh, James gave his wand another flourish, and the remaining strawberry residue disappeared. "You just wouldn't get it, Reggie."
"You're an idiot."
"Your idiot."
Regulus smiled and shook his head. Then suddenly, James put a palm on his cheek and turned his face towards him. Something shifted as, eyes shining, he moved the hand to touch Regulus' lips. And just looked at him. As though the quiet beach and the grand, stunning, glittering sea before them didn't matter. Its waves caressed the shore, surrounding them with the gentle whisper of running water as it crept alongside the movement of the tide.
"I love it when you smile," James said softly. His fingers brushed over his lips, then fell to his lap. "I remember the first time I saw it."
When Regulus didn't answer, only tilted his head in question, James took his hand.
"It was on the Astronomy Tower," he said, grin spreading slowly across his face. "A few days after I pissed you off by asking about Sirius too much - d'you remember?"
"I do."
"And I said that Quidditch with you was fun, and you properly smiled at me for the first time ever..." James went on.
There was a wistfulness to his voice that made Regulus' head spin. If given the chance to stay here, holding James' hand, listening to him talk like this and being looked at by him like this, he would have snatched it without a second thought. Which was fortunate, as the second thought would have terrified him.
"...Can't believe I didn't snog you right there. We didn't even fancy each other back then."
"I did."
James' mouth fell open.
"Seriously?" he beamed. "But that was ages ago!"
"I know," Regulus said quietly, colour rising to his cheeks. "It's true, though. In fact, I believe that was the day I realised."
A brief pause, then:
"Awww, Reggie, you fancied me!" James said gleefully, giving his arm a playful shove. "I had no bloody clue - that's so sweet!"
"We have been together for five months, James," Regulus reminded him, arching an eyebrow in amusement.
"Yeah, but that day was ages ago," James repeated smugly. "I mean, ages-"
"-Alright," Regulus cut in, exasperated. "I'm well aware, thank you."
"I must be bloody fantastic," James mused, letting go of his hand to deliberately count on his fingers. "How long's that in months, d'you reckon..."
Now blushing furiously, Regulus grabbed both of his hands to make him stop.
"Don't," he pleaded.
Still with an absolutely delighted grin on his face, James squeezed his hands and kissed the tip of his nose.
"You're so pretty when you smile, Reggie," he then said, more seriously. "But you never used to. That's why I remembered that."
"I didn't use to be happy," Regulus replied simply.
Not for the first time, he surprised himself with how readily he could admit something like that. It, in all probability, was to do with James calling him pretty, which had an effect similar to starting a gentle oil fire in his chest.
"Are you happy now?" James asked.
His voice was so earnest and tender that Regulus felt another smile break across his lips. He was defenceless to it. Being here, with him, with the ocean that he would never admit to being afraid of, was like dreaming. In the way that dreaming was supposed to be. He nodded. Then James matched his smile with a gorgeous, glowing one of his own, and Regulus was suddenly compelled to ask.
"And you?" he said tentatively.
James didn't even hesitate.
"Couldn't be happier."
Wordlessly, Regulus nodded again; those words brought a warmth to his stomach that the unfinished Butterbeer in his pocket would never come close to.
"If you don't mind my asking," he said slowly. "How long have you... felt like this? About me?"
Amortentia. As James explained everything that had happened, how long it had taken him to figure out what it meant, the fact that Regulus was the very reason for which he knew he liked boys, the warmth in his stomach only glowed brighter.
"Reckon it started before that, though," James hummed. "Something felt different at the start of this year, I think. On the train." His eyes took on a sly, almost dark glint. "You'd changed."
"How so?" Regulus asked. Too quickly; James smirked at him.
"Your face looked older. Here," he began, raising a hand to softly draw his thumb along Regulus' cheekbone. "And here." James' fingers traced down the edge of his jaw, before drifting to the back of his head. "Your hair was longer, and I'm pretty sure it was softer, too," he continued, voice growing gentle as he wound a curl of Regulus' hair around his finger.
But before long, the glint returned to his eyes.
"And your voice," he murmured, sliding the hand down to the front of Regulus' neck. "It was deeper. I remember thinking about that."
Regulus swallowed, felt James' fingers move with his throat. Neither spoke. Heart thudding, he took James by the wrist and brought his hand up, pressing a kiss to each of his fingertips. Then he lowered the hand, leaned forward and kissed his mouth.
He tasted of strawberries. Of sickly sweetness and warmth. Regulus was dizzy with it all; the small shock of heat that rushed through him when James cupped his cold cheeks in his palms, the feeling of their lips moving together, tenderly, coaxing one another apart, and the soft sparkle of hazel eyes, the last thing Regulus had caught sight of before his own fluttered shut. Emotion burst from him with every breath; emotion that he should have neatly packed away in the depths of his mind but couldn't, because with James the slightest twinge of joy, sorrow, rage, love, was an explosion. It was vast, and frightening. But it was also beautiful. Like the sea.
When he drew back, James wasn't even attempting to conceal the grin that lit up his face.
"I do love it when you smile," he said, bringing a hand under Regulus' chin to tilt up his head. "But I love it even more when you do that."
"I'll do it again, then," Regulus replied with a smirk, and was already pulling James back to him before either could utter another word.
* * *
They stayed there on the rock for a long time, talking and kissing, watching the occasional person walk past down below and making their way through the picnic that James had smuggled from the great hall that morning, sometimes falling into silence and staring out at the sea.
It was at one of those moments that James said casually,
"Want to go in?"
Regulus whipped around to look at him.
"What?"
"In the sea," James said.
"...Go in the sea," he repeated.
"Yeah."
"Now?"
"Yeah! Only to paddle; we're not bloody swimming."
"Oh."
He contemplated. The sun was out now, the clouds having been swept away by the wind, so the sea didn't appear quite as menacing anymore. It was a vivid, greenish-blue, bright white where the sunlight reflected off of its surface. Although, it was still terrifying. Although, they wouldn't go in any deeper than necessary, if he could help it.
Apparently, Regulus over-thought the decision for too long. James promptly got to his feet, brushed the crumbs from his jeans and leapt down the rocks with, to his credit, the confidence of a stag - but the grace and execution of a baby dear.
"Feel free to join me!" he called from the sand, already strolling away towards the sea.
Sighing, Regulus stood. He slipped down to the ground and joined his idiot at the shore. They set their bags down. James kicked off his shoes, then bent down to cuff his jeans.
"Take your shoes off, then," he said brightly, sitting down on the sand to pull off his socks.
Regulus glanced around. "In public?"
James burst out laughing.
"Yes, in public!" he wheezed. "Bloody hell, and Mary calls me a posh boy."
Eventually, they left their bags a few metres away and approached the shore. At the edge, only the feeblest dregs of waves reached them. That didn't stop James from squealing the moment the water rushed over his feet.
"Shitfuck, that's cold!" he gasped, reaching out to grab Regulus' hand.
Angry goosebumps had erupted on Regulus' arms and legs, protesting at the sudden frosty sting of the waves, and he scarcely noticed them. Beginning to tremble, he looked over his shoulder and manoeuvred his hand out of the older boy's grasp. No one was there, but they could have been. Here, they were in plain sight.
It took James a second longer to understand; when he did, his face fell slightly. The sparkle in his eyes dulled as he too cast a wary glance around the beach, and Regulus felt a sharp, guilty twinge in his gut.
"There are more rocks over there," James said suddenly, raising his voice over the wind and the waves as he pointed. "We'll be hidden."
Already brightened up by his own ingenuity, he turned and waded merrily away through the sea, seeming to have completely forgotten that it was still freezing cold and barely noticing the water splash up and soak the hems of his jeans. Exasperated and, frankly, terrified every time the next wave so much as washed around his ankles, Regulus went after him.
If anyone had been walking along the shoreline that day, they would have been accompanied by the dulcet tones of
"If we drown, Potter, I'll never let you take me to the beach again."
"We're not going to drown, drama queen - look!"
"No, don't go deeper! James!"
"I'm fine, see? It's nice! Come in a bit further."
"No."
"Why? You scared?"
"Because Sirius will never shut up if I ruin his precious trousers!"
"Roll them up like me, then."
"I can't - these ridiculous Muggle garments are needlessly tight."
"I think you look great!"
"Fuck off, Potter."
...
"No, come back, you putain d'imbecile! Reviens de suite! I was being figurative!"
"Reggie, if me doing stupid stuff makes you speak more French, I'll dive in head first."
By the time they dipped behind the cluster of rocks nearest the water's edge, Regulus was trembling violently. Hair dishevelled and eyes dancing with glee, James laughed at the undoubtedly sullen look on his face.
"C'mere," he chuckled, gathering Regulus into a warm hug. "You could've just walked on the sand, y'know."
"I wanted to be nearby," Regulus replied shortly. "In case you did something idiotic and got yourself in trouble."
James hugged him tighter.
"You're adorable," he mumbled into his hair.
Annoyance dissolving where they stood, Regulus just shook his head up against the curve of James' neck; he melted into his arms, felt his own heartbeat slow to its ordinary, less anxious pace. The water was shallow here, only just sneaking up over their toes. Almost exactly as that relieving thought crossed his mind, James drew his wand.
"Forgot to do this before," he said sheepishly, and cast a water-repellent charm over them both. "Now we won't get wet!"
"James-"
But James had already wound an arm around his waist, pulling him close, and begun to wander back into the sea. Regulus clung to him as the sea swept up to meet their ankles, then their calves, then their knees and even a couple of inches higher before James stopped and turned to him. Their legs were dry, but getting wet wasn't what Regulus was afraid of. It required a conscious effort not to squeeze his eyes shut.
"See? Isn't this bri- Oh, shit, you are scared?" Keeping one arm wrapped around him, James lifted his chin and tried to meet his gaze.
"Perhaps a little," Regulus admitted, concentrating on controlling his breath.
"Right, who's the idiot now?" James said softly, shaking his head. "You should've told me, Reggie. But look around - you got all the way out here! Ah, maybe don't look. That won't help. Um, alright. Look at me. How's that? Hold my hand. I've got you; no one's drowning, I promise. You're facing your fears right now, and that's a Gryffindor trait, y'know, so it fits your name. Heart of a Lion, right? Oi, eyes on me; I'm gorgeous, it shouldn't be that hard..."
He brushed the windswept hair out of Regulus' face and carried on talking gentle nonsense to calm him down. It worked. After a while, Regulus was able to look around without freezing, and the breath almost left him all over again at the sight. Now that the street was concealed by the rocks, they were alone. The sand, the stone, the sea, and them. The beauty of it tugged at his heart. He turned back to James, and the tugging grew stronger.
"Thank you for this," he breathed. "Thank you for everything, James. It's... perfect."
"You sure?" James grinned weakly. "We're standing in the middle of the sea right now, and a minute ago you were telling me to fuck-"
Regulus interrupted him with a kiss.
"I love you," he whispered, bringing a hand to rest on James' chest. "Je t'aime. Huṁ tanē prēma karuṁ chu."
Before James could respond, he moved his hand to linger just above the beat of his heart. He pressed down, gently, with one finger, then lifted it, then pressed down again.
"You've done that before," James murmured, taking the hand to kiss it. "What is it?"
"It's Mermish," Regulus said quietly. "For 'I love you'."
The older boy just stared at him for a moment.
"You're amazing," he said dopily. "You just spoke Mermish?"
"Not spoke," Regulus corrected, and watched James roll his eyes. "Most of their language is spoken, even written, in cases. But Merpeople hold the belief that some concepts are too profound and beautiful to be reduced to words; they choose to show love, instead of speak it."
They were silent. Even over the sea, Regulus could hear his own heart.
Then James put a hand on his chest. He pressed a finger down, lifted it, pressed it down once more.
"...too," he finished proudly.
And Regulus laughed, and stood on his toes to kiss him once again, and he forgot all about the water that still churned and swept and glistened below.