picnic - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - july 18 - 464 words
The afternoon sun filtered through the heavy leaves of the ancient oak tree, casting dappled gold across the picnic blanket. It was a replica of the one they’d used decades ago—though this one was a bit thicker, kinder to two sets of aging knees.
James adjusted the collar of his cardigan, his fingers slightly stiff, before reaching for a thermos of tea. He poured a cup and handed it to Regulus, who took it with a murmur of thanks, his silver hair catching the light.
"You know," James said, a familiar, bright spark dancing in his hazel eyes behind his glasses. "The weather today is significantly better than it was fifty years ago."
Regulus took a slow sip, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fifty-two years, James. And you're remembering it through rose-tinted glasses. It rained. Halfway through the sandwiches, the skies absolutely opened up."
"It didn't rain straight away," James protested, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. "We had at least twenty minutes of perfect sunshine. I remember thinking how brilliant you looked, trying to pretend you weren't terrified of a rogue wasp."
"It was a hornet," Regulus corrected mildly, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him. "And I was trying to maintain some semblance of Black family dignity while you were frantically waving a napkin at it like a madman."
James laughed, a warm, booming sound that had softened over the years but never lost its joy. "I saved your life, Reg. Admit it."
"You knocked over the pumpkin juice," Regulus countered, though he reached across the blanket, his wrinkled hand finding James’s. Their fingers intertwined seamlessly, a habit worn deep by time. "My shoes were ruined. And then the downpour started."
"But we didn't go inside," James reminded him softly. He squeezed Regulus’s hand. "We ran under that old stone awning by the boathouse. You were shivering, so I gave you my jacket. It was three sizes too big for you."
"It smelled like broom wax and grass," Regulus murmured, his eyes looking past the modern gardens, lost in the memory of a crowded awning, the smell of summer rain, and the sudden, terrifying realization that he was utterly in love with the boy standing next to him. "You looked ridiculous with your hair plastered to your forehead."
"And you let me kiss you anyway."
"Well," Regulus said, his dark eyes meeting James’s with all the quiet devotion of a lifetime shared. "I felt sorry for you. You’d worked so hard on those terrible, crushed sandwiches."
James smiled, leaning over to press a gentle, lingering kiss to Regulus’s temple. "Best first date of my life."
"Mine too," Regulus whispered, resting his head against James's shoulder as the afternoon slipped into a quiet, golden evening.
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