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[mmm-shanrio]

party (june 28) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic

jegulus & wolfstar | 447 words

“Ask him along, then,” Regulus hears as he passes by Sirius’s bedroom door. It isn’t his brother’s voice, but Remus’s—sounding rather exasperated, at that. 

“I don’t want to!” That’s Sirius, all theatre. There’s even the sound of him throwing himself onto his bed. “Every time I invite him, he either tells me off—or he does come and disappears for half the night. It’s embarrassing, Moons. I swear he does it just to wind me up.”

Ah. Of course. They’re talking about him again. Regulus doesn’t think twice about stepping closer to the door and putting his ear to it.

“You want him to spend more time with James, don’t you?” Remus asks, and Regulus’s stomach does a strange little flip. “Oh, don’t make that face. You said so yourself. You hate everyone he’s brought home.”

Sirius makes an incredulous noise. “One of them ate my leftovers, Remus! Caught the lanky git standing at the fridge mid-snaff! In his pants! Who does that?! Savages. Savages, Remus, that’s who.” 

Barty. Regulus grins to himself. They haven’t slept together, at least not for years, but he likes how little Sirius knows of his personal life. 

“And if that’s the sort of company Reg is keeping, we need to step in,” Sirius continues.   

“We?” Remus’s voice pitches so high that Regulus almost laughs. “Sorry, there’s no we in this! I want no part in trying to set your brother up with anyone, much less James. Don’t you think it’s—I don’t know, strange?”

“It doesn’t bother me. I thought it would have done, but… I know James would be good for him, wouldn’t he? And they like each other. It’s disgustingly obvious.” 

A sudden flash-image of James beaming at him from across a crowded room comes to mind, and Regulus feels his chest warm. He fights a smile despite there being no one around to see it. 

“They’re not… subtle,” comes the reluctant agreement. “But if you really want to go ahead with operation: help James Potter snog your little brother, you’ll have to actually invite Regulus.”

Sirius yelps; Regulus flinches back as a pillow misses its mark and hits the door instead. 

“Don’t call it that, you twat!”

Remus laughs. The bed creaks, and then Sirius laughs, too. Regulus instantly loses all interest in eavesdropping. 

Just as he steps away, he hears Sirius say, “Besides, it’s not as if I expect him to snog Reg at the party. Prongs is my best mate. He’d have more respect for me than that.”

Regulus pads towards his room and thinks, with unbridled delight, that he ought to keep it to himself a little longer just how many parties he’s spent snogging James Potter.

[mmm-shanrio]

protest (june 29) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 384 words

It’s the first warm day of the year, and his brother and boyfriend have lost their minds. Sitting on a thin blanket, Regulus watches from behind dark shades as they run through the sea, whooping with laughter that carries back on the wind. Certifiably mad.

They’ve been on the beach for hours despite the temperature hardly being agreeable enough for it. Most beachgoers have only dared to wade knee-deep. It must be freezing, because James is red all over as he jogs up the shingle towards Regulus, beaming and dripping. Sirius follows, not one jot drier, and his pale skin even redder. 

“Are you really not coming in?” James asks, sopping wet. He has no right to look as good as he does, and Regulus looks away on principle. 

“No,” he says, chin lifted. “I shall remain here in protest.”

Sirius snorts. “In a sulk, you mean.”

“In protest. Warm, comfortable, not-freezing-my-arse-off protest. I told you it was too cold for this.”

James makes a disappointed noise. “Come on, Reg. It’s gorgeous. Look,” he tries, gesturing towards the horizon, “you can’t tell me it doesn’t look the slightest bit enjoyable?”

“I can, and I will. It doesn’t look the slightest—”

“Oh, leave him to it, Prongs,” Sirius interrupts. “Allergic to fun, that one.”

Regulus sneers at him; Sirius sneers back and, for good measure, flicks water right in his brother’s face. He’s already halfway to the sea when Regulus draws his wand.

“Wanker,” Regulus mutters. It’s then that the bright day greys as the sun dips behind a cloud. The breeze picks up. Vindicated, if suffering for it, he folds his arms with a shiver. 

James drops beside him on the blanket and nicks his wand for a quick drying charm. “Bit chilly when the sun goes in, isn’t it?” he says cheerfully, ignoring the glare he gets for it. He hooks an arm over Regulus’s shoulders and squeezes. “There. Better?”

Regulus looks up at him—wind-rumpled, sun-bright, smiling like he already knows the answer. Love ties his tongue for a moment, and all he can manage is, “It’s all right.”

“Good.” James tucks him against his side. He kisses Regulus’s hair and murmurs, “Still protesting the beach?”

“Naturally.”

James huffs a laugh, then hums, pleased, when Regulus burrows closer. 

Purely for warmth, of course.

[mmm-shanrio]

sky (july 1) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 388 words

“Heneghan’s waiting it out,” Barty says, taking a swig from his flask and offering it with a grimace. He isn’t wrong—Gryffindor’s seeker hovers well above the match, arms folded. Ravenclaw’s lead needs to close before she’ll hunt.

Delight and firewhiskey warm Regulus’s blood; nothing thrills him more than the lions’ legendary sulks. He goes to say as much, but there’s an audible smack!, a rippled gasp, and Regulus turns just in time to watch James Potter fall out of the sky. His heart seizes. 

In one held breath, James plummets to the pitch—robes fluttering, body limp—then comes to an abrupt stop as the safety charm catches him and lowers him gently to the ground. He’s still clutching the quaffle. He looks quite small. 

He is not moving. 

Regulus doesn’t remember leaving his seat, but between one moment and the next, he’s forcing his way through the ring of players. He elbows someone aside, and the world, the noise of the crowd, it all comes back to him in a roar—because James is there, sitting upright between Sirius and a teacher. Dazed, yes, but alive. 

“Jamie,” Regulus breathes.

Sirius’s head snaps up. “Jamie?” 

With a hazy grin, James drops back onto his elbows and winks. “Alright, lover?”

Adrenaline leaves Regulus in a flood of relief and takes all sense with it. He laughs a nervous, mad thing, dropping to his knees beside his brother. 

“I think he’s concussed,” Sirius says. “Must be, after a hit like that—James, no, don’t lie down. James. Oi!” He snaps his fingers. “Eyes on me, mate. How’s your head?”

James blinks, then smiles, his gaze sliding back to Regulus. “Haven’t had any complaints so far.”

Sirius’s face drops. Laughter erupts around them. 

“Right. Seems fine to me,” Regulus says shortly, rising. His cheeks are burning. He blames the firewhiskey. “It’s not as if there’s anything of import in that bludger-beaten grapefruit of his, anyway.”

He stalks off the pitch with James’s squawk at his back. Behind him, Sirius says, relieved, “There he is. Merlin, for a second, I thought he was going to be nice to you!”

Over his shoulder, Regulus calls out, “Fuck off, Sirius! Don’t you lot have a game to lose?” but he grins all the way back to his seat, and cheers, louder than anyone, when Heneghan catches the snitch. 

[mmm-shanrio]

daylight (july 2) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 105 words

Morning sun cascades across the bed, and their time is up. For a few more stolen moments, the sheets stay shared; gold-warm, hazy in the glow. For a few more stolen moments, it is theirs, until it isn’t.   

“I have to go.”

Don’t. “Don’t get caught.”

“I never do,” and he hasn’t, not once. A kiss becomes two, becomes three, becomes stifled laughter and reluctant parting. 

The cloak shimmers. The door opens for, then closes behind, nothing at all.  

Regulus rolls over. With daylight at his back, he buries his face in a pillow that smells faintly of lemon soap, and waits for another night.

[mmm-shanrio]

hot (july 3) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 380 words

The display is downright obscene. James Potter—Cannons captain, war hero, father, utter tart—has been shirtless for approximately twenty minutes. He glows in the midday sun as if he’s made of it, his skin bronzed to gold, sweat shining across broad shoulders.  

And Regulus can’t even enjoy himself, because he’s too busy glaring at the group of players’ partners off to the side.

“Well fit, isn’t he? Potter,” one of them said the moment James shucked his jersey halfway through his laps. The group broke into appreciative, juvenile twittering, and Regulus thinks he might have cracked a molar for how tight his jaw went.

James can read it all over him as he jogs in for a quick drink—he’s beaming. He doesn’t hesitate to sling an arm around Regulus’s waist and draw him close. 

“It’s hot,” James says against his throat, sounding unbearably pleased. 

Regulus manages to catch the flutter in his chest before it takes him. “Is it?” he asks airily. “I’m not the one out there showing off, so I wouldn’t know.” Still, he shivers anyway when James huffs a warm laugh into his hair. 

“No. I meant you. This whole little jealousy thing of yours. It’s hot. I like it.”

A scoff. “I’m not jealous. ”

“My mistake. In that case, s’pose I should get back to it, then—” lightning-quick, Regulus’s hand whips out and wraps tight around James’s wrist. He smiles. “Or not.”

Regulus turns just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes fixed on James’s mouth. The heat between them rises—it would burn, even on a cooler day. That’s all it takes, sometimes. A word. A look. 

But Regulus has more than that today. He guides James’s hand to slide down his stomach, stopping at the hem of his shirt. Of his own accord, James’s fingers dip into his waistband and—

“Hot?” James says again, this time in a whimper. “Is that—? What the fuck. That’s so bloody hot.” He makes another pathetic little noise when Regulus pulls away. “Where are you going? Have you been wearing those all day? Reg. Regulus.”

“Put a shirt on, and I’ll let you find out what color they are later."

James tears away to scramble back into his jersey—then does one better, and shrugs on his jacket for good measure. 

[mmm-shanrio]

melt (july 4) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 287 words James has turned into a puddle of a man, sprawled out in his chair as if they’re at home and not sitting outside Fortescue’s. He’s already finished his ice cream and looks well satisfied with himself, content to wait for Regulus to do the same. But Regulus savors his. Takes his time.

James watches, lazy in the heat.

“Good shout, this,” he sighs, somehow relaxing even further. “Nothing better on a hot day, is there?” He eyes the way Regulus trails his tongue along the edge of his cone. 

“Could think of a few things.”

James laughs. “‘Course you could.” He nods towards Regulus’s ice cream. “What's that about, then?"

“Oh,” Regulus drawls, “It's gorgeous, really. The bourbon gives the vanilla a succulent, warm finish. So sweet and creamy, Jamie.”

“Looks good,” James says, voice low. 

“Mm. It is. In fact, do you know what I’m thinking?”

James catches his lower lip between his teeth, but it doesn’t do anything at all to stifle that boyish, pleased grin of his. Regulus smiles back; slower, inviting. With one obscene drag of his tongue, he licks the treat from base to tip. 

“I think you’re thinking,” James starts, and Regulus hums encouragingly, “of sharing the rest of that with me.”

Regulus blinks. Holy shit. 

“You absolute melt,” he says, almost in awe. James’s face flickers. “Are you brain-damaged? I was flirting with you, Potter. How many bludgers have you taken to the head this season?”

“Only the one! And I played the rest of that match, mind you,” James protests, then sits up straight. His chair scrapes in his haste. “Wait, flirting?”

Regulus scoffs and viciously bites off the top of his ice cream. James cringes.

“Not anymore.”

[mmm-shanrio]

shade (july 5) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 271 words | implied MCD

James sees it on a Wednesday. A peripheral figure shadowing the doorway, nothing more than an outline at the edge of his vision. He sees it again the following week. The one after that. The one after that. Always Wednesday, always just out of sight and gone before he gets a proper look.

He thinks it’s stress; maybe a lack of sleep can drive someone mad when hours become weeks with nothing in between.

He doesn’t tell anyone, because he wouldn’t know how. It isn’t the first thing he’s kept to himself, after all. Nor the worst.

No—his worst secret is staring up at him from the front page of the morning paper.

The headline blurs as he tries to read it a second time, but once was enough. Missing for weeks. He neatly folds the Prophet and sets it aside. Presumed dead. His mouth is wet. Presumed dead.

James stares down at the table, blinking away the sting. It takes everything in him not to look.

He is alone, and not.

“You know—” His breath catches. He tries again. “You know, I think I’d have preferred madness.”

Beside him, darkness gathers solid in one awful flash. James screws his eyes shut tight like a child.

He has said it before and meant it, and again, he says, “No. This isn’t right. You have to go.”

The room chills. Just when he can bear it no longer, when he turns back like he should have then, when he says, “Wait—” sunlight floods the kitchen.

The doorway is empty the following Wednesday.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

[mmm-shanrio]

sweat (july 7) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 238 words

Thud.

Regulus startles awake. Dazed, he blinks against the dark like it will help him see through it. He’s still trying to find his body when there’s a ragged gasp from the floor. 

He sits upright. “James?” Then, once he’s found his wand, “Lumos.”

James cringes away from the light, back against the bedside table and arms tight around his knees. He ducks his head. 

“Nox.”

Regulus winces as he slips across James’s side of the bed. The sheets are soaked through with cooling sweat; James’s shoulder is damp, too, when Regulus touches him. 

“Jamie,” he tries, voice soft. “Darling, you’re shaking.”

“Sor—” James’s teeth clack. “Sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

 “It’s all right,” Regulus says, because it is. He lights a few candles with a flick of his wand and coaxes James to stand. The light flickers; James shivers, then settles under the weight of Regulus’s hand on the back of his neck. 

Regulus keeps his tone low. “Here, let me help you out of this. Yes, those as well. Let’s have a warm shower, hm? No, you don’t have to say anything. Don’t apologize. Shower first, then maybe a nice cuppa. That always helps, doesn’t it?”

James comes back to himself when the water starts. He hiccups once and tries to hide it with a laugh.

“You—You sound like me.”

“Yes, well,” Regulus says, brushing a stray curl from James’s eyes, “I’ve learned from the best, then.”

[mmm-shanrio]

storm (july 8) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus (background jegulily) | 479 words

The rumbling starts before noon. Low and distant at first, but a threat drawing nearer with each sickly bruised-green hour. That’s fine. Regulus doesn’t think he can leave the bed, anyway. 

Underneath the thunder, Regulus has learned the sound of James pretending not to hover; the shuffle of socked feet, the pause, the “alright, love?” and subsequent unconvinced hum.

It’s only when Regulus refuses tea for the third time that James finally gives up the ghost and does not sulk off down the hall. Instead, he lingers in the doorway, arms folded, and so very simply says, “Could we talk, you think?” 

Regulus blinks. Nods. 

James nods back. “Right,” he continues, uncertain now. “Right. So. Er—Well. Regulus, Lily and I were thinking…”

(maybe we were better off without you)

Regulus’s heart swells to fill his entire ribcage. 

“Well, we were thinking you ought to see somebody. About medication.”

It isn’t quite what he feared, but it doesn’t matter. There is no room for relief beside his horror.

“The muggle sort, I mean. Antidepressants, she called them.”

Wind howls. James shifts his weight.  

“Loads of people take them.”

Rain batters against glass. 

“They might make you feel… y’know, normal.”

“Normal,” Regulus echoes. “Right.” His voice cracks. “Because I’m not.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” James rushes to say, settling beside him. “Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have done this without her. I meant—you just get wound up so tight sometimes, Reggie, and we don’t know how to help.”

Lightning whites the room. 

(you difficult thing)

“I’m not difficult,” Regulus insists. It comes out childlike and small.  

Understanding breaks James’s expression. He catches Regulus’s face, coaxing him to look up. “That is not what I meant,” he says firmly. His hands soften to a cradle. “I would never, Reg. Not that. I’m worried, is all. We both are. You’ve been (difficult) worse lately. You seem miserable. Can’t you tell?”

Regulus has to force himself to move; he agrees with a jerky nod that does nothing for James’s concern. In fact, it deepens, you difficult thing. 

“I’ve been miserable,” he quickly says with James’s words, “and I think I ought to see somebody.”

James visibly deflates. “You’ve no idea how happy I am to hear that.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Regulus’s temple. “Thank you. Merlin, Reg, that’s all we want. Look, I know I’m shit at this, so we’ll talk about it when Lily gets home, yeah? Properly.”

“When Lily gets home.”

James smiles.

Regulus you smiles difficult back thing. 

“Brilliant.” James scrubs his hands down Regulus’s arms as if he’s just come in from the cold. “Right. Let’s have a walk, shall we? It’s been gorgeous all day. Reckon some fresh air would do you good.”

“Fresh air would do me good,” Regulus says, because he must, and follows James barefoot out into the warm summer grass.

[mmm-shanrio]

ocean (july 12) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 291 words

Some days the water is calm; lovely, even. Regulus could float there in the gentle drowse for hours, the sun warming his face and sea-light shimmering like stars around him. It lulls him, the easy current. Back and forth. Back. Forth.

When the storm arrives, as it inevitably does, he’s forgotten that there is nothing beneath his feet.

He does not know how to swim. He’s learned just enough to keep his head above water. But with nothing to hold onto, the sea tosses him about in its furious seethe and every little trick seems to fail where it once worked.

Yielding, bargaining, begging. Now it all churns the water to a mad froth. The sky ever darkens.

So he fights. Badly. Viciously. Desperately.

The offing stretches into the distance. There is so much ahead. And Regulus is so tired.

But he can’t turn back, either. The shore is years behind him. He aches for it, the days he was only knee-deep and could scramble away when the swell surged. Waves crash in the shallows, of course, isn’t that how it always is? But he thought if he just waded deeper—if he made it past the chop, where the ocean stretched glass-like and placid—

His head dips underwater and for one horrible, terrifying moment, he can’t breathe.

Immediately, the clouds clear. Sunlight beams down on him. A bit too harshly, perhaps, and overeager—but he prefers that over the tempest. He still feels the brine burning in his nose.

The sea calms. It takes longer to float this time. But he does. He always does.

Regulus curls up in James’s arms, adrift in their bed, and lets the lull of his heartbeat take him.

Back and forth.

Back.

Forth, a little further out.

[mmm-shanrio]

cook (july 14) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 400 words

James has had a shit day. Weather’s been shit. Assignment was shit. He’s soaked to the fucking bone because his magic’s exhausted, he’s exhausted, and he can hardly manage an impervius when all he can think about is finding that little girl—

Even coming home doesn’t help. 

He sags against the front door, forehead to the wood and eyes closed, trying to find the motivation to move one step forward. But he knows another comes after that, then another. Cloak off. Boots. Maybe a sad bit of toast before a shower. Eventually shrugging into the dry clothes he’ll have to find in the laundry. 

It all sounds rather exhausting. 

The thought of climbing into a warm bed with a warm body and warm, sleepy kisses finally propels him into action. With a heavy sigh, James pushes his way into the house and is met not with silence—

But light. Music filtering from the kitchen, just loud enough to be heard under the downpour. And most importantly, the lush smell of onions and garlic wafting through the air.

It hooks him right in the stomach and tugs him onward.

Regulus turns at his footsteps. The little smile on his face immediately drops.

“You’re absolutely sopping wet, Potter,” he says, aghast. “Who raised you? Dripping all over my floor like that.” Without a thought, he flicks his wand. 

James warms all over. Dry now, and a bit lovestruck, he closes the distance between them.

“You cooked.”

Regulus’s expression flickers. “Er—?” he starts. “Well… yes. Obviously.”

“Obviously? It’s half ten. Who cooks at ten o’clock at night?”

Almost defensive, Regulus says, “Me. As evidenced by the food. You said you’d be late, did you not?” 

“Right. Yeah. No, yeah, but I just—I didn’t expect…”

Regulus frowns. He looks at James as if seeing him properly for the first time, and something in him loosens. 

“Bad day?” is all he asks, but it feels mountainous. 

James’s throat closes up. His eyes sting. He doesn’t quite have the words—not yet, not when it’s so fresh—and only nods. 

Regulus watches him. He doesn’t ask. He will, later, when James has been sweetly lulled by their home; by their bed; by Regulus’s careful hands and mouth. When openness comes as softening instead of cracking.

For now, he simply turns to pile a plate high with pasta, and helps James hold it until his shaking hands go steady.

[mmm-shanrio]

tent (july 11) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus | 712 words (I’m so sorry idk what came over me)

part one: sunscreen

part two: beach

The tent is smaller than Regulus remembers, though they are two instead of three. He blames Potter, far too broad to share a space with and currently attempting to see his own back in a conjured mirror. He keeps turning instead of conjuring another. Regulus needs him biblically.

Potter finally gives up with a sigh and drops the hem of his shirt. “I think you might’ve missed a spot, mate. I’ve got a nasty burn.”

“Have you?” Regulus asks, feigning surprise. Then, since he’s already gone mad and might as well enjoy it, “Show me.”

“Wh—Really? I mean—yeah, ‘course, I—” Potter practically rips his shirt off. “D’you see it?”

Oh, yes. Regulus stifles his grin at the sight. One big, awful, angry-red spot in all that gold. He doesn’t even think—just lifts his arm and touches.

Potter hisses, flinching away.

Regulus rips his hand back. “Sorry! Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Laughter answers him, but it isn’t the sort Regulus likes—not when it’s aimed his way and followed by, “M’only winding you up, Baby Black. You should see your face.”

Chest tight, Regulus turns without a word and climbs into bed. He’s heard enough of that for a fucking lifetime. He gives his wand one vicious flick, and their little canvas prison plunges into darkness.

“Goodnight,” he says, clipped.

“Aw, Reg. I was only trying to make you laugh.”

“Well don’t,” Regulus snaps. “Not everything needs to be a bloody joke.”

Potter sighs; his bed does, too, as he settles in. “Right. Right, yeah. Never mind. I forget how different you and Sirius are, sometimes.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. Only that it comes nasty and exhausted and a little hurt: “Sorry to disappoint, Potter, but I’m not a replacement for my brother. Just because you can’t have him doesn’t entitle you to the next best thing.”

After a long while, and with an uncertainty Regulus hadn’t thought him capable of, Potter says, “I don’t want Sirius, Reg. I want you.”

Right. Okay. Maybe the tent is on a hill. Is that why the whole thing feels as if it’s slipping sideways? If he’s really lucky, they’ll simply slide right off the cliff and into the sea.

Regulus realizes he hasn’t answered. “Oh,” he says, which is still not an answer.

Potter makes a soft noise of panic. “What do you mean, oh? Is that a good oh or a bad one?”

“It’s just an oh!” Regulus snaps, winded. Each breath makes him dizzier than the last. All he can smell is the ocean and James fucking Potter. “I don’t know, James! Let me think.”

“Fuck’s sake, Regulus, I just told you I fancy you—” Potter sits upright with a faint rustle of his blankets. “Did you call me James?”

“Fancy me? What are we, schoolchildren?”

“What are we,” Potter echoes, closer than before. “Yeah. Something I’d like to know myself, actually.”

Regulus’s mouth dries right up. The distance between them shrinks; he can hear Potter moving in the dark, feel him settle on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he tries to demand, but it comes out in a whisper.

There’s a pause. Then, softly, Potter says, “If it’s alright with you, Reg, I’d quite like to kiss you.”

The heat of him bleeds through the blanket as he leans down; the scent of him is salt-musked and hot.

Regulus stops him with a hand to his chest. Merlin, he’s still shirtless. But want is not enough for Regulus to give in. Not yet.

“Do you mean it?” He swallows. “You like me?”

“Reggie, I…” Potter huffs a laugh. The sound is shy and almost nervous. “Like, an embarrassing amount. I don’t think I was subtle about it.”

He wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t.

“Alright,” Regulus says. “Alright. Yes. Kiss me.”

Potter makes a stunned, excited noise. “Holy shit. D’you mean that?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Get on with it, Potter.”

“James.” The ask isn’t one at all, and so very close. “Call me James again.”

Regulus’s breath catches. “James,” he amends. “James. You can kiss me now.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I already have, you idiot,” Regulus says, curling a hand around the back of James’s neck and meeting his mouth halfway.

[mmm-shanrio]

beach (july 10) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus (background wolfstar) | 563 words

part one: sunscreen

Regulus does not like swimming. He doesn’t care for the beach.

He is, however, thoroughly enjoying the view. An endless blue sea, a cloudless blue sky, and a shameless James Potter rising from the waves with water streaming down his body like something out of a bawdy magazine.

A patch of skin on his lower back is starting to pink. Regulus smiles to himself.

He stifles it when Remus begins his miserable climb towards him. By the time Remus reaches the blanket, he’s breathing like he’s scaled a mountain—as if he were capable of such a thing—and not twenty yards of shingle. He collapses beside Regulus with a grunt.

Regulus doesn’t think twice about handing him a drink. He likes the man, even if Remus spends half his time with his tongue down Sirius’s throat.

“Cheers,” Remus pants. He takes a long swallow, then tips the bottle towards the water where Potter and Sirius are attempting to drown one another. “Watching James again, are we?”

Mind changed. Remus is a smug bastard and Regulus hates him entirely.

Regulus’s voice doesn’t quite come as steady as he’d like. “Rather difficult not to, when he plays such a good fool.”

“Right. Has nothing to do with the fact you’ve fancied him for ages, then?”

A shiver travels up his spine and leaves him rigid. He turns a slow, cool stare on the other man. Remus, unbothered, simply stares back and does not blink.

“I knew you were a beast,” Regulus says icily, “but I had no idea you were a mad one.”

Remus exhales sharply. “Christ. And I thought Sirius was bad. Hopeless, the pair of you. You haven’t got the faintest idea how to talk to another human being.”

“We’re talking right now, and I consider you a human most days.”

“You know what I meant, dickhead.” A smile begins to curl Remus’s voice. He gives a lazy shrug. “Ah, well. At least Sirius knows how to let people like him.”

Regulus’s mouth presses thin. His gaze flicks back to the water. Potter has just thrown Sirius to the waves. Sirius surfaces, spluttering, then breaks into a bright, easy laugh—the sort he found again only when he left home.

Regulus cannot remember the last time he laughed like that. His fingers dig into the shingle, gripping a handful hard enough to hurt.

“I hardly think the beach is an appropriate place for psychoanalysis, Lupin.”

Remus hums. “Maybe you should find the appropriate place for it, Black.”

Regulus opens his fist. The pebbles fall with a skitter that sets his teeth on edge. He grinds them once, lifting his chin, looking anywhere but at Remus’s scrutiny. At James’s effortless joy and Sirius meeting him in it.

“Reg!” his brother bellows. “Stop being a prat and get in!”

“Oi, leave him—he doesn’t like swimming,” Potter says, shoving Sirius under the next wave. Then he turns, beaming so brightly Regulus can feel the warmth of it from the blanket.

“Don’t worry, Reggie,” he calls. “You stay there and look pretty, yeah?”

Regulus snorts and raises his voice. “Of course. One of us has to.”

Potter gasps and clutches his heart as if he’s been hexed, toppling backwards into the sea. Regulus stifles another smile.

Beside him, Remus sighs a long-suffering thing. He slumps back on the blanket and slings an arm over his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “Hopeless.”

part three: tent

[mmm-shanrio]

sunscreen (july 9) @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic jegulus (background wolfstar) | 429 words

The yearly trip to the coast is meant to be five of them. Five. But Peter’s gone and got himself a girlfriend, which means it’s down to four—and Sirius and Remus are useless for anything that isn’t snogging each other senseless.

Which leaves James Potter. Which means two will share a tent meant for three. Which means, to Regulus’s utter horror, that he won’t have a buffer between him and the man he’s been in love with since he was fourteen.

What a nightmare.

“Reg?”

Could he sleep outside tonight, perhaps? Better than lying awake imagining what could happen—

“Regulus!”

“What!” he snaps, then falters, blinking up to find Potter standing there. He’s backlit by the sun, shirtless, and wearing the smallest pair of shorts Regulus has ever seen. His entire mind blanks out.

Potter grins. He’s holding a bottle of sunscreen, Regulus finally realizes.

“Do my back, would you?”

Regulus’s voice refuses to work. The thighs. He bites viciously at his tongue and scowls through the pain.

“Couldn’t get Sirius to help you, then?”

“Well, er—he’s… busy,” Potter says, glancing over his shoulder. Regulus follows his line of sight and immediately regrets it.

“Ugh. When do they have time to breathe?” He looks back up at Potter, which isn’t much better for his stomach. It does a funny little flip, as it often does, when Potter laughs.

“Mate, you’re telling me.” Potter sounds as if he has suffered things Regulus dares not imagine. That easy smile flashes at him again. “Now come on, you helping me or not?”

Regulus allows himself the half-second image: his hands smoothing across broad shoulders, fingers pressing into Potter’s firm arms, close enough to sink his teeth right—

He ought to be euthanized. Put down like a frothing animal.

Regulus drags his gaze back up to Potter’s face. “Not. Consider wearing a shirt for once in your life, perhaps.”

“And deny you the view?” Potter says with a wink and a flex of his bicep.

Regulus’s mouth goes dry. “What view?” he asks, tone flat. “All I see is a shameless tart making a spectacle of himself.”

Potter throws his head back with a laugh. There goes Regulus’s stomach again. Salazar.

“Oh, come off it, Reg,” Potter goads, tossing the bottle to him and grinning when Regulus catches it easily. “You wouldn’t want me to burn, would you?”

There’s a thought. With a smile of his own, Regulus rises to his feet.

“Of course not,” he says, wondering if Potter will notice when he misses a spot—and if they’ve brought any aftersun.

part two: beach

[nilrna]

one of my fav headcanons is that half of hogwarts thought remus was trans

[my-castles-crumbling]

hard - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 464

“Reg, I need a favor.”

He knows Regulus is shocked that the words have come out of his mouth. They’re not the type of siblings to ask like this. Sure, they love each other and whatever, but…casual affection and showing vulnerability? They haven’t done that since they were small. So when Sirius, wringing his hands and paler than usual, approaches Regulus in the library and asks this, Regulus has a right to look alarmed.

“If it has anything to do with a stupid prank–” the Slytherin starts, lip curling in a sneer.

“No. No,” Sirius shakes his head, feeling utterly pathetic. It’s just…he’s going mad. Every time he has to see them together, every time he walks by and sees the two of them close. His grip on his sanity, his ability to breathe, is falling away little-by-little, his fingers on the edge, scraping for some sort of leverage only to fall away bleeding. “I just…you can’t tell anyone. Alright?”

Regulus actually looks mildly concerned, now. Eyebrows furrowed and normally-emotionless face tinted with worry, it’s borderline sweet. Or as sweet as Regulus can be, anyway. “Fine. I’ll try. What is it?”

“Just…when you and Remus go on…dates. Study dates and stuff like that? Can you try not to have them around me?” Sirius’s voice cracks embarrassingly at the end of his request, and he feels like the most selfish, pathetic dick in the world. 

But he’s hurting. He has to try.

Regulus gapes. It’s odd–the younger boy is quiet, yes, but very infrequently speechless. So Sirius knows he;s probably made things worse by asking this. “I–fuck, Reg, I’m sorry. I know this is selfish of me, and you need to know, I’m happy for you–for both of you. I’ll get over my feelings eventually. I promise. By the time you two get–get married or whatever…I’ll be okay. I won’t cause anything. I just…it’s so hard to see you with him. It’s like you two’re stabbing me every day right now and I need time to get over him–” he begins tearfully, his voice raw, his body shaking.

And what does Regulus do?

He laughs. 

The fucker laughs.

Sirius almost throws a fit, but luckily, he catches his brother’s next words.

“We’re not dating, Sirius, Salazar. We’re friends. And you are the thing he likes to talk about most,” Regulus says bluntly. 

Blinking back tears, still feeling horribly exposed, Sirius stares at his brother for a long moment before whispering, “Me?”

“You. Fuck if I know why, but he’s mad about you. So why don’t you two figure out your shit and leave me alone?” But Regulus’s tone is gentle, like he actually wants them to be happy.

So, gulping, Sirius nods.

And then he turns and sprints away.

He has to find Remus.

[beesunshiny]

Moonwater/Jegulus as one of my favorite TikTok audios (with a little extra tacked on):

Regulus: I think we should get a divorce…

Remus: What are you doing?

Regulus: Just practicing…

Remus: Wh-why are you planning your hypothetical divorce?

Regulus: I don’t know, I’m 22…I think I’m having a quarter life crisis…

Remus: You don’t even have a boyfriend…

Regulus: Hypothetically divorce me.

Remus: Ok, well I’m hypothetically taking half your assets

Regulus: Well you didn’t sign the hypothetical prenup! …is it? It’s called a prenup right?

*Sirius enters*

Sirius: Yeah, it’s a prenup, *looks at Remus* and you did hypothetically sign one so…

Regulus: Who the fuck is this guy?

Sirius: I’m his hypothetical lawyer in this divorce case…

Regulus: Well…I’m taking the hypothetical kids so…*turns slightly* right? we can get those, right?

*James looks up*

James: Yes, we can definitely get those hypothetical kids, don’t worry about it.

Remus: Who the fuck is this hypothetical nerd?!…fucking idiot

Regulus: This is my hypothetical lawyer, and we have been hypothetically sleeping with each other so…

*Sirius dead eye pans to stare into James’s soul*

*James desperately avoiding him*

Remus: *bursts out laughing* How could you *holds back the chuckles* hypothetically do this to me?!

Regulus: Because you hypothetically are an alcoholic so!

*Sirius is still glaring daggers at James*

Sirius: Was that necessary, Regulus…”hypothetically sleeping with” my best friend?

Regulus: *hard eye roll* Sirius you’re so dramatic…it’s not hypothetical *walks off amid chaos*

Sirius: PRONGS!!