Unforgiving
@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic word count: 507
Regulus had always been a rather unforgiving person. Hard to make friends with; hard to win over. Maybe it came from the kill-or-be-killed household he was raised in, or cutthroat competitive nature of the Slytherin house, or maybe it was just a part of him; but it was there, unmistakably. Evan, Barty, and Pandora were his closest friends; not just because they were brilliant and irreplaceable people, but because they were loyal. They stayed. Through his senseless panic attacks and shitty moods, his selfishness and defensiveness. Through all the family drama and trauma; the rise of the war, and then the fallout when there was no war to fight (largely due to Regulus himself). Yes, at twenty years old Regulus was certain; he would never love, never need, anyone other than those three.
So why was he looking at James Potter again?
He thought this was long over. He thought any positive emotion he might have about Potter was eradicated when he was fifteen; when his brother chose Potter over him, when they both betrayed him. Abandoned him. He thought, no he knew he would never forgive either of them.
But here he was. Out late at some muggle bar, something reminiscent of an Order meeting with all the people and none of the battle planning. A remember-how-it-used-to-be meeting. A thank-merlin-that’s-over meeting. And James was here, and Regulus might hate him but he looked so good in the dim muggle lights, in his tight dark green t-shirt that proved green really was his color. Regulus might hate him but he might also love him a little when he approaches, smiling a sickeningly gentle smile that reeked of forgiveness, of apologies, and something new, and he held out his hand to Regeulus in a way that might as well have been a sign reading CAUTION: DO NOT FALL IN LOVE.
And Regulus tries to heed it. He tries to remember; remember his hurt when Sirius chose him, remember the way he used to burn with inferiority just seeing this man, remember it was his fault Regulus joined this war. But then, it wasn’t, was it? He would have joined either way. It was James’ fault he was on the right side; the winning side. It was his fault he was alive right now and not rotting away in Azkaban, hating himself and his family, or dead in a gutter somewhere. It was his fault his brother was so happy; so in love, and free, and more himself than Regulus knew someone could be.
So despite the caution sign, despite their history, despite Regulus’ grudge; he takes the hand, and lets James Potter pull him out of the building. He lets James buy him dinner, and make him laugh, and walk him home, and kiss him hurriedly and desperately like he might never have the chance to again.
This is unnecessary, of course, because Regulus, feeling himself begin to forgive for possibly the first time ever, thinks he might let James kiss him for the rest of their lives.
