Regulus Black was born on February 28th. He had dark, slicked hair and grey, cold, focused eyes. He wore neat, tailored suits and long, black coats and cologne that made him smell like lavender and smoke. His voice was harsh and unwavering, and his thick, french accent made the knees of passers by go weak. He liked cloudy beaches and outdoor cafes and camel cigarettes. He enjoyed reading Persuasion and The Picture of Dorian Grey and Batman comics. As a child, he’d dreamed of being a concert pianist, or a swashbuckling pirate like Blackbeard and Calico Jack. As an adult, he despised belittlement and gum chewing and Sunday mass. He was charismatic when he wanted to be and cruel when he needed to be. He had complicated, destructive relationships with Sirius and Barty and everyone else who had dared to get close to him. Sirius said he’d been abused as a child. Remus believed he had Borderline Personality Disorder and unresolved religious trauma. And he was, above all else, a serial killer. James knew that. He was paid to know that. But James knew other things, too. He knew the way Regulus’ lips felt on his neck. He knew how the word “Yours” looked scrawled neatly in Regulus’ handwriting. He knew Regulus could’ve killed him a long time ago, but chose to let him live. And James knew, deep down, underneath all his anger and pride and fear, that he loved Regulus Black more than he’d ever loved anybody. More than he loved himself. So, when Regulus ran, James chased after him without hesitation, without a second thought.
This is one of the shittiest things I’be ever written, but ever since rereading The Blood in Your Mouth I can’t stop thinking about James and Regulus. Kudos to @moonys-mirrorball for writing possibly the best fanfic I’ve ever read.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37093069?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works