Chapter Text
Sirius POV -
The flat is filled with the sweet sound of David Bowie and the even sweeter smell of hot chocolate. Remus has a sweet tooth—Sirius had learnt that very quickly—his pockets are usually lined with various chocolate bars, especially close to the full moon. Now Sirius keeps a supply in his bag too, just in case Remus is having a particularly bad day, chocolate is always guaranteed to put a smile back on Remus’ face. Remus’ hot chocolate is the best Sirius has ever tasted—which is saying something because he’s had Effie’s hot chocolate—so when Remus stays at their flat, he always makes a big pot of it in the evening.
They are stretched out on the sofa, their heads at either end and their legs entangled together in the middle. Sirius is playing with one of Remus’ hands, which is splayed across Sirius’ leg whilst the other holds his book. Remus is reading A Picture of Dorian Gray , which Sirius knows is one of his favourites—it is one of Regulus’ favourites too, one that he used to re-read over and over again. Remus looks so lovely whilst he’s reading, the little crease between his eyebrows is so endearing and he always sticks his tongue out just a little bit when he’s concentrating. The evening sun is hitting Remus in such a way that it makes the freckles scattered across his face even more prominent, his face shrouded with a golden glow.
“What’re you staring at?” Remus asks.
“Just something pretty.” Sirius sighs back.
Remus rolls his eyes and smiles down at his book. Sirius interlinks their fingers and squeezes, shifting his feet so they go up the front of Remus’ jumper. Remus co*cks an eyebrow at him.
“They’re cold.” Sirius shrugs. “Got any inspiring quotes for me today?”
Remus hums, “ Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might blow …”
Sirius grins, “I’m not sure what that means, but I think it sounds like you’re calling me exquisite?”
Remus pushes Sirius’ feet away, “It means that sh*t things take hard work to make, so to make something exquisite, there has to be even more behind it,” Remus says.
“Something tragic?” Sirius asks.
“Yeah,” Remus says.
“Sounds about right.”
Sirius could write a whole book on tragedy if he really wanted to, his childhood was filled with it. He used to be angry at the universe, he would shout at God or the Gods or whatever is up there and ask why him? Why did he have to be born to parents who didn’t want him, who couldn’t accept who he was? He used to think it was his fault, that he came into the world wrong and he deserved everything that his parents did to him. Over time, James has helped him to see that wasn’t the truth, that there was something wrong with his parents instead.
“What are you thinking about?” Remus asks, setting his book on the coffee table and putting both of his hands on Sirius’ calves, rubbing down them slowly.
“Nothing.” Sirius huffs.
He has gotten slightly better at talking to Remus about his family, offering bits and pieces when he feels like he can. But his default is still to close everything off, to pile up as many walls as possible to keep Remus out and even though Remus doesn’t push—he’d learnt the hard way—Sirius can tell that it frustrates him. But there’s a reason for it all, a reason he doesn’t want to let things out. It had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember, how weak it was to show any vulnerability. His parents had valued secrecy, they thrived off it, the ability to be wealthy and well-connected without anyone ever finding out about what happened behind closed doors, that the Black House was ruled with terror and pain.
“Boys don’t cry.”
His mother’s voice reminds him every time he feels his eyes prickling with tears.
“People don’t want to hear about your feelings , Sirius, they will think you are weak. You are weak.”
The first time he remembers crying in front of his mother he was five. He must have done it many times before that, but he thinks his mind has blocked all of those memories out for a reason. He can’t imagine that she was any less cruel when he was a toddler. But that time, it’s all very clear—because it was the last time he dared to cry in front of her—he’d fallen over and his hands were cut all over, bleeding and sore. He remembers the way she slapped his hands away, taking him roughly by the arm and dragging him into the bathroom. She’d stripped him down to his underwear and pushed him into the shower, turning on the cold water and standing back so he couldn’t reach out for her.
“Please, mummy, it hurts.”
He had cried even more, choking back sobs as he tried to control his body, which was shaking uncontrollably.
“You will stay in there until you stop crying. Pain is good, it makes you stronger.” She snaps.
She had stood there, hands on hips and face completely void of any emotion for fifteen minutes. It took him that long to stop crying, he was so little that he didn’t know how to stop, he still wanted comfort from her, not old enough yet to understand that she was never going to give it to him. Regulus had stood in the doorway, chewing on his thumbnail and looking helplessly at Sirius until their father dragged him away. When he was finally locked away in his room, he dragged all of his blankets into the wardrobe and buried himself in them, trying to stop his teeth from chattering and his body from shivering.
“Sirius?” Remus’ voice pulls him back into the room and he realises that he’s shaking now, his teeth chattering in that same way even though he isn’t cold.
“Sorry.” Sirius manages as Remus pulls him into his arms.
The warmth of Remus’ chest fills up Sirius’ body and soothes his bones. Remus’ lips are on his temple and Sirius melts into him, burying his face deep into the crook of Remus’ neck.
“Don’t apologise.” Remus murmurs.
“I used to be better at keeping it all back, the memories, but seeing Reg again has made it all so much harder,” Sirius says.
“You don’t have to keep things back, not from me.”
“I don’t know how to do this, how to let people in. Even James, it took years, years before I could do it.” Sirius mutters.
“We have years, lots of them, I’m just asking you to try.” Remus says, “Why don’t I go first?”
Remus already has been open with him, he showed Sirius his true self—the wolf—Moony . He’s told Sirius a few things already, that his mum left, that his dad was a bit of a prick, but he doesn’t ever go into much detail. Sirius doesn’t like to hear about it, it makes him feel sick, hearing about the times that Remus was abandoned, that he was rejected.
“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Sirius mumbles.
“I want to, I want to talk to you about it. Just because I want you to understand that I understand. Maybe not everything, but some of it, how it feels to have a mother that doesn’t love you at least, how it feels to have an indifferent father.”
“Have you forgiven her? Both of them?” Sirius asks.
It’s a question that he asks himself a lot, one that he wants to ask Reggie too, when the time is right, but every time he tries to think about it, his mind is darkened with memories of the things that his parents did, the ways that they made him feel over the years. Unconditional love from James and his parents could only go so far, the damage caused ran so deep that Sirius felt it in his bones.
“Some days I forgive them, when I need to, it helps me to get over it when I’m feeling particularly bad about myself,” Remus says. “They didn’t ask for it either, me being a werewolf.”
“You were only four.” Sirius nestles into the crook of Remus’ arm, “My parents didn’t have an excuse. They just hated me the second I was born.” He can fill it rising inside him already, like an explosion waiting to happen.
Remus shifts, “Just because they had an excuse it didn’t make it feel any better.” His voice has some bitterness to it.
“I know that,” Sirius says and his guard is back up as high as it goes.
“Did she hurt you a lot? You know—physically?” Remus asks gently.
Sirius stiffens, every voice in his head is telling him to stop talking, to say something mean so that they can fight, so he can channel all of the anger into that instead. It’s how he works, every part of him is aching to do some damage.
“I don’t want your f*cking pity, Remus.” Sirius shoots him daggers, pushing himself up from the sofa.
He almost hears Remus roll his eyes, but Sirius keeps his back turned, if he looks at Remus now he’ll crack, he won’t be able to keep this up.
“Here we f*cking go then.”
“Piss off,” Sirius mutters, still refusing to turn around.
“I’m not doing this again—tell me or don’t—but don’t just turn this into a fight just so you can get off on the emotional chaos by shouting at me instead of actually talking about your f*cked up trauma. If you don’t process sh*t it festers, turns you into a prick.” Remus snaps.
It annoys him that Remus knows exactly what he’s doing. It had been like that from the start with them, Remus seemingly understanding him better than he understood himself, calling him out for things it took James years to call him out on. Even when James did, it was always cautious, and sweet, he never raised his voice, always walking on eggshells so that Sirius didn’t explode in his face. But Remus doesn’t care to do that, he just says it how it is, maybe because he’s really just the same as Sirius, he likes a fight too, he likes the way it feels to rip someone in half with his words. Sirius whips around, arms folded as he looks at Remus, who is glaring back with equal amounts of venom. They stare at each other like this for a minute but then Remus bites his lip and Sirius folds immediately. He takes a step forward at the same time as Remus does.
“You’re a real tosser do you know that?”
“Yep,” Sirius says, poking his tongue out in a childish way. Remus rolls his eyes but Sirius just bats his eyelashes, co*cking his head to the side.
“f*ck you.”
“Yes please.”
Remus doesn’t waste a moment before he drags Sirius into the bedroom, attacking his neck and his lips and pulling his hair. They crash onto the bed and quite literally rip each other’s clothes off. He loves it when Remus is like this, animalistic like the wolf is taking over. Sirius lets out a very loud and needy sound when Remus shoves his hand inside his boxers and touches him, seeming very pleased with himself. It continues like this, rough and messy but at some point it gets sweeter, slower, Remus is kissing him everywhere that he likes to be kissed, fingertips and tongue grazing softly across his skin.
Afterwards, they are naked and laughing because they know they’re ridiculous. Sirius doesn’t mind, it works for them, they might get bored if they can’t argue just a little bit. The best part of it is that they know that everything’s good between them, Remus is very good at showing Sirius that he cares through his words and the things he does for Sirius. Sirius shows it all through touch, words are harder, but he thinks Remus appreciates it’s all the same. When a silence falls between them again, Sirius inhales deeply and then breathes all of the air out, once and then twice.
“She didn’t really hit us, not that often anyway, not in places that she knew would show.” He says and Remus looks slightly startled by the sudden change in conversation, “It wouldn’t be good for her reputation if social services came knocking.”
“Sirius—are you sure you want to?” Remus says, if he does feel any pity towards Sirius, he’s doing a very good job of not showing it and Sirius is grateful.
Sirius nods, “She was always worse to me, I took a lot of it to protect him, you probably can’t believe it but he used to be a right softie.”
Remus snorts, “The words softie and Regulus don’t compute together in my head.”
“He grew out of it though, and turned into the little psychopath that he is today.”
“Do you think he forgives them?”
“Forgiveness isn’t really in Reggie’s vocabulary, but he used to defend them, he used to tell on me all the time,” Sirius says and he knows it sounds resentful.
“He was a kid, just trying to survive.”
“I was a kid too,” Sirius mutters.
“I know,” Remus tucks some of Sirius’ hair behind his ear, “and you survived by getting out, going to James’,” Remus says.
“I guess.”
“He’s here now, you can make things better you know? I think he wants to as well.”
“I don’t know about that.” Sirius sighs.
They sit in silence for a little bit, Sirius traces little stars around Remus’ scars with his finger. He wants Remus to get a tattoo with him soon, a moon and a star, the two of them in their own sky.
“Do you trust him?” Remus asks after a while.
“I don’t know, Moony.”
Sirius doesn’t know if he trusts Regulus and not just because he’s a vampire now. Regulus had broken Sirius’ trust long before this, little bits at a time over the years. The first time had been just after Sirius’ thirteenth birthday. His family had a tradition of eating together on birthdays, not that it ever felt like a celebration, as they usually ate in silence, apart from his mother’s usual speech about all of the terrible things he had done to disgrace the family that year, and all of the things he had to do to make up for it now he was a year older. That year, he had decided to make a new tradition, at James’, a proper party with music and cake and a present from James, the first one he had ever gotten. It was a record, Black Dog by Led Zeppelin, his absolute favourite at the time.
He had gone home to face the wrath, quite pleasantly surprised to find the house silent when he returned, his mother obviously choosing to ignore him rather than show any acknowledgement of his birthday. He’d hidden the record under his bed but had snuck into Regulus’ room to tell him all about his evening and the present. Regulus had just rolled over and coldly told him to go away. Regulus had been doing that more and more, getting defensive and moody with Sirius, snapping at him more often than not. But it wasn’t until a few days later when he felt that punch in his gut, that Regulus really betrayed him.
He came home from school to find his mother sitting at the table, the Led Zeppelin record and a box of matches sitting at the table in front of her. Sirius saw red, lunging forward to try and snatch it away from her, but she was too quick. She dragged him into the dining room and pushed him down to the ground beside the fireplace. All he could do was watch as she struck a match and let the record burn to a ruined mess in front of him. Afterwards, he stormed upstairs and straight into Regulus’ room, finding him sitting at his desk, his eyes darting to the door as Sirius slammed it behind him.
“She burnt it in front of me, Reggie!” Sirius yells, not caring that their mother will hear and inevitably lock him in his bedroom soon.
“So? It’s just a stupid record.” Regulus snaps back.
“It’s not just a stupid record. It’s my favourite song and it was a present from James, the only present I’ve ever got!” Sirius shouts back.
A very dark expression flashes across Regulus’ face, “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot it was a present from James.”
“You’re such a jealous little brat Reg!” Sirius snarls.
“I hate you,” Regulus shouts as he gets up from his desk, pushing past Sirius to go to his bed.
“Oh, I bet she was so proud of you, is that why you did it? Her perfect little Regulus, just like you’ve always wanted.” Sirius wants to draw blood with every word.
“Why don’t you just leave? Go! It’s better without you here.”
“I will leave if that’s what you want, I hate it here. I hate them, I hate you.” Sirius pulls open the door just in time to find his mother standing in the corridor.
“Good,” Regulus mutters after him, as his mother pulls him towards his bedroom.
Things changed after that, the two of them barely spoke, even if Regulus still crept into Sirius’ bed at night, and Sirius let him because that was his job. But the trust was gone and the resentment started to build, the anger. They fought more, with words and fists, Effie was often wrapping Sirius’ knuckles or icing bruises. And it kept happening, Regulus defending their parents, telling them about things that Sirius had done. Sirius just didn’t understand why .
Remus is looking at him so softly and for some reason, Sirius cries. He cries so much that he can’t speak for a while, but when he can, he tells Remus all about his birthday, about the record and the fight with Regulus. Remus doesn’t pity him or try to tell him how sorry he is, he just listens and holds Sirius in his arms until it’s over, until his throat hurts from talking and crying.
“I love you,” Sirius whispers, his fingertips fluttering over Remus’ eyelids.
Remus inhales a sharp breath and his eyes snap open. Sirius regrets it, instantly, he shouldn’t have said it because it’s too soon. Remus is going to be scared off, he’s going to think Sirius is too needy. He isn’t going to say it back because how could anyone love Sirius? He’s too broken, he’s too—
“I love you too, idiot.” Remus smiles, “Stop spiralling.”
Sirius grins so hard his cheeks hurt. He kisses every single part of Remus’ face that he can and then collapses on top of him, Remus wraps his arms around Sirius’ back and kisses his shoulder. They stay like this for ages, only moving due to the fact that they have to meet the others. Sirius hasn’t stopped smiling, because even if they are all about to be ripped apart by Voldemort, Remus Lupin loves him.
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James POV
The Magic Box is humming with excitement tonight, they are all crowded around the map of Hogsmeade that the girls have charmed to show the location of every demonic presence in the whole town. They originally had wanted the map to find Voldemort, but now they have Regulus, its main purpose will be to help with patrol. Regulus isn’t here, which James knows is for the best, if they want their plan to work they have to be careful not to draw too much attention, but James is longing for the moment they can be alone again, it’s all he’s been thinking about and dreaming about for the past few days. He’s spent a lot of that time trying to convince Mary and Minnie that Regulus deserves their time, which has been proving quite difficult where Mary is concerned. Lily and Remus have helped, but Sirius seems to be staying out of it, which James understands. Dorcas seems slightly more willing, although mostly due to her curiosity about it all.
“So the brighter it glows, the more demonic energy there is in that place?” Minnie says as she leans over the map.
“Exactly,” Dorcas says, “so here,” she points to a place near the graveyard, “and here,” she points to another place, a house slightly isolated house on the outskirts of town, “there must be a nest of some kind.”
“Fantastic, this is truly wonderful magic girls,” Poppy says.
“So,” Sirius grins, “where shall we start?”
“I think here, to the nest near the graveyard, so that we can have a patrol there afterwards,” James says.
“Perfect,” Mary says.
Now that they’ve started patrolling together, James can’t imagine a time when he did this all on his own before even Sirius was helping him. It just seemed so normal back then, sneaking around in the night by himself, not having anybody to watch his back, which is the way slayers are supposed to be, according to Albus. But Over time, he’s allowed himself to let go of some of the guilt that comes with the others helping him because it really does feel right, not to mention the fact it makes everything so much easier. He imagines seventeen-year-old James, the way he would be so happy to know that he doesn’t have to lie to Sirius anymore, that he can be free with his friends. He looks around the room, watching as they start to gather weapons, as Lily shows Mary a particular move that Peter had taught her years before.
Sirius and Remus seem more loved up than ever, not able to keep their hands off each other for more than a few minutes. Remus is showing Sirius how to flip someone onto their back, but James thinks it’s just an excuse for them to end up on top of each other. Dorcas and Poppy roll their eyes at them and James laughs but he can’t help but wish that Regulus was here, that he could put his hands all over him under the guise of training.
“Are we ready to go? Sun will be down soon.” Lily says, nudging James out of his head.
“Let’s do it,” James replies, grabbing a bag of weapons and slinging it over his shoulder.
The walk to the nest is filled with laughter, everyone is touching and smiling and James feels on top of the world. If you didn’t know it, you would think they were off to the Bronze or the Hogshead, that they were a group of normal uni students that didn’t spend their free time killing demons in a graveyard. But they aren’t normal students, James is the slayer, and for once, he couldn’t be happier about that fact.
They hit the nest just as the sun set, using a different tactic than before, Regulus had made it clear that they shouldn’t rely on offensive magic, as Voldemort would be ready for that. So they are using defensive magic only—as well as the communication stones—on top of pure physical force. James and Minnie have been training everyone and he can already see the improvements, they really are an unstoppable force. Well, they are unstoppable against this group of average vampires but Voldemort, according to Regulus, is far from average. James has been preparing in every way that he can to face Voldemort, Minnie has been taking all of his spare time to perfect his focus, awareness and strength, but there’s no real way to prepare for it, everything coming down to the moment James faces him.
He smashes two vampire’s heads together, before Remus appears at his side, staking one of them and shoving the second towards Mary, who lands a few punches before staking that one too. James grins as he turns towards the front of the crypt, where the vampires had been sleeping and slams into another one, knocking her to the ground. She leans towards his neck, not noticing the necklace that is hidden there and suddenly she’s screaming, clutching her face as the cross presses against her. He seizes his opportunity to drive a stake into her heart, her body vanishing into dust below him.
Everyone split up, there are a few that have gotten away. Dorcas’ voice speaks in his head.
I counted six, maybe seven. Mary’s voice.
James pushes himself up and runs out of the door after the others. They split off to find the stragglers, James and Lily going towards the far end of the graveyard. They find two more vampires, trying their best to run away. Lily turns to him and nods, breaking off to the left to fight one of them. James moves slowly towards the other, twirling his stake in his hand with a smirk on his face. The vampire tries to fight, running at James from behind a tree, but James dodges him, playing around a little bit because he can. He does this for a while, he’s aware that Lily has already staked hers, and he can see her standing off to the side, hands on hips.
“Stop showing off James, it’s just me here.” She says.
“Sorry!” He shouts back, grabbing the vampire by the back of the head and putting his stake straight through his heart.
“Nice work Evans.” James nudges her arm.
“Thanks, Potter, not looking too bad yourself.”
They grin at each other, ready to start walking back to find the others.
“OK, I get it now, very pretty.” A voice sneers from behind them.
James and Lily turn around to find two more vampires, standing near the tree line, the one that spoke is tall and blonde, James doesn’t recognise him, but he does recognise the other. It’s the vampire from their first patrol in Hogsmeade, the one with the piercings and the crazed look in his eye. James’ hand flexes around his stake and the pierced one smirks.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he waggles his pointer finger at James, “I don’t think you want to do that.”
“And why not?” James snaps.
“Well, James ,” he snarls, “we have a mutual friend you see, and I don’t think he would be very happy if you killed us.”
James tries hard not to react but his body is in a frenzy, he sees Lily glance at him out of the corner of his eye. He knows exactly what friend they are referring to. Regulus .
“We aren’t here to hurt you or your little witch, we just wanted a little evening entertainment, we couldn’t resist—and Evan here was so eager to see you.”
“I don’t care who your friends are bloodsucker,” Lily spits, lunging forward with her hands outstretched, clearly ready to burn them to nothing.
But they are gone before she can do anything, the treeline empty again, the graveyard silent except for the rustling of the trees. Lily turns to stare at James but James is too busy panicking to respond to her right now. He kicks a gravestone to his right and it crumbles slightly. He silently apologises to whoever is buried there before turning back to Lily.
“ sh*t .” He mutters.
“Yeah—sh*t,” Lily says. “Do you think they work for Voldemort? Do they know about Regulus working with us?” She’s a little breathless as she walks after James, who is already storming off towards the exit.
“I don’t know, I need to talk to him.” James says before he whips around to look at Lily, “Don’t tell the others, please Lily. Let me talk to Regulus first.”
“I don’t know, James.”
“Please. I’ll talk to him tonight, I’ll let you know as soon as I know what’s happening.”
Lily looks unconvinced, chewing on her bottom lip. She huffs out a breath and then nods, “Okay James, but you need to know tonight .”
James’ head is a mess the whole back to the flat, which is empty, Sirius is staying at Remus’. He can’t even begin to process what it will mean if Regulus is discovered, what if he’s already been caught? What if Voldemort has already killed him? James might never know. He likes to think that if Regulus was dead, he would know , part of him would feel it.
He doesn’t know if she should call Regulus’ phone, what if it’s already too late? Or what if the call only makes things worse for him? But waiting around like this will drive him mad, he’s sure of that. If only he knew where Regulus lived, he would run there right now, he’s in that sort of restless mood that he wouldn’t hesitate to go in, guns blazing, ready to face whatever awaited him. He knows it’s the sort of thinking that Minnie would tell him off for, Regulus too probably. But he doesn’t care about that right now, all he cares about is knowing if Regulus is ok.
He waits in his room for ten minutes before he can’t keep himself from the phone any longer. He almost runs to it, nearly tripping over the rug on his way there. He smashes the number into the phone and waits for it to ring three times, before putting the receiver back on the hook. He slumps against the wall, sliding down to the floor and putting his head between his knees. He sits there for what feels like an age before he drags himself to his bedroom, lying down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.
Finally, there’s a knock at the window and James’ whole body goes rigid, his legs shaking slightly as he walks to open it. Regulus is leaning against the window pain casually, if he feels the way James does, he isn’t showing it. He looks completely fine, as far as James can see and there’s no urgency in his expression to suggest that something has happened.
“Hey.” James smiles because he can’t help it, as he pushes the window open and lets Regulus climb in.
“Hey,” Regulus replies.
This time there’s no lingering in the middle of the room, no waiting for the other to move. Regulus simply steps past him and walks to the bed, flopping down on it like it’s his own. He looks up at James with lazy eyes that make James’ legs get even weaker.
“How was patrol?” Regulus asks.
James blinks a few times before he makes his way to the bed as well, sitting down before his legs give out. “It was—it was good, thanks.” He manages.
“Good.”
“We ran into your friends,” James says and he sees Regulus’ eyes become more alert, sitting up on the bed, all the playfulness in his face replaced by something more serious.
“Which friends?”
“Evan? And the other one, the one with the eyebrow and the lip piercing?” James’ eyes narrow because he’s desperate to see something in Regulus’ face that will tell him what to think.
Regulus seems to relax slightly but doesn’t lie back down again. “Ah.”
“Is that bad? Are we f*cked?” James asks, his heart is beating so fast he thinks it’s about to explode out of his chest. If they know about James and Regulus, does this mean the plan is all over?
“I think not. Barty and Evan aren’t loyal to Voldemort, I had planned on telling them about the plan anyway, this is just slightly sooner than I had expected.”
“They actually are your friends?”
“I wouldn’t use the word friends , but they are loyal to me, yes. I’ve been travelling with them since I was turned.”
James can’t help but imagine the three of them terrorising town after town, the dreams he used to have of the vampire—Barty—flooding his mind again. Regulus is friends with that psycho? He feels sick to his stomach at the thought of Regulus and the other two, killing people side by side, blood dripping from their mouths.
“He seems pretty unhinged, even for a vampire.”
“Barty isn’t the most sane of creatures, no, but he isn’t going to tell Voldemort anything. I’m sure of it.” Regulus says, studying James’ face and smirking slightly, “Barty has taken a bit of a liking to you, he thinks you look quite delicious, can’t say I disagree.”
James' heart is beating out of his chest, “I’m not going to stop myself from staking them just because you used to go around killing people together Reg.” He snaps.
“I don’t care if you kill them, James.” Regulus raises his eyebrow in a very critical way, “You’ve got a little thing for piercings, right? Does Barty do it for you? Do you think he’s pretty?”
“Stop it.”
“It’s just a question, James—but I’ll take that redness in your cheeks as a yes.” He snaps.
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like a vampire.”
“Because I am a vampire, remember?” Regulus smirks and suddenly his face is inches away from James’.
James exhales slowly through his nose as Regulus gets closer, his hand finding James’ thigh. James' mind goes to the first time in the graveyard and then the other night in the hallway and every moment in between, when he’s been thinking about Regulus sinking into his flesh and his whole body lights up. Regulus leans in and runs his tongue up James’ neck, the sensation makes James’ eyes roll back into his head and he lets out a desperate noise that makes Regulus smile against him. James clamps his mouth shut and Regulus falls back onto the bed, smirking up at him. James can’t seem to process a coherent thought—let alone speak—so he just stares, trying to keep his breathing as even as possible.
Every part of him is screaming for more, he knows what he wants, but he’s so scared. He’s scared because it’s wrong and he’s scared that Regulus might not be able to stop. There’s something different in the air between them tonight, maybe it’s because they both know and they both want, but James isn’t ready yet, he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel ready for this . So he gets up, dragging a hand over his face and letting it settle in his hair, pulling at it and huffing out a breath.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m just standing up,” James mutters.
Regulus smirks again, how does he look so bloody good when he does that? Regulus’ eyes rake over James’ body, widening slightly when they land on something James hasn’t had the chance to notice until now—that he’s already half-hard underneath his joggers. He yelps slightly and turns around, hands fisting in his hair once again. This is not normal, this can ’t be normal. James can’t be this turned on at the thought of Regulus biting him. But he is, very much so it seems.
“James,” Regulus says more softly than before.
James sighs deeply and turns around, striding back to the bed and climbing right on top of Regulus, pinning him to the bed as he smashes their mouths together, hands greedily pulling at Regulus' hair. Regulus makes a noise of encouragement and pushes his head up to deepen the kiss, his tongue finding its way into James’ mouth, the taste of it leaving James temporarily still. Regulus pulls James’ shirt off, moving his lips to James' chest, tongue circling both of his nipples, teeth brushing against him, before moving back to his mouth.
“Reg.” James breathes into his mouth.
“What do you want James?”
“I want—“ James doesn’t finish because he can’t. Regulus nips at his ear in a way that drives him crazy and his whole body shudders.
“Say it.” Regulus hisses, his hand wrapping around the base of James’ throat and squeezing lightly and then much harder.
“I want you to drink from me,” James whispers, his tongue in Regulus’ ear. There’s no going back now, it’s all he wants, it’s all he can think about.
Regulus makes a noise between a snarl and a moan and flips them so James is on his back, Regulus straddling him. James pushes his hips upwards, trying to get a little bit more contact but Regulus pushes them down again, fingers digging into James’ hip bones. James bites his lip to hide whatever embarrassing noise was about to escape.
“Are you sure?” Regulus asks, his tongue grazing his lower lip slightly.
James nods because he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. Regulus starts peppering kisses across James’ jaw, behind his ear and then he moves down to his collarbone, biting down softly. His tongue drags across James’ throat again and James digs his fingers into Regulus’ back.
“Tap my back three times if you want me to stop okay?”
“Okay.” James swallows.
James can’t hold back the gasp that leaves his lips as Regulus bites down, it’s the most indescribable mix of pain and pleasure, his whole body becoming overwhelmingly sensitive, he can feel his blood rushing under his skin and the sharpness of Regulus’ teeth piercing deeper and he understands why his body has been calling for this, why he’s been aching for it. He hears the muffled noises coming from Regulus' throat and James digs his fingers into his back harder. His eyes close in rapture, blissful agony washing over him, the only thing he’s able to process is that he wants more, he wants Regulus to keep going, he doesn’t want this feeling to ever stop.
————————
Regulus POV -
Regulus knows what heaven is like because heaven is this. Heaven is James Potter. His imagination could never have come close to how good James tastes, how good he feels under Regulus’ teeth. As soon as the blood hits his throat his whole body erupts, heat flooding every part of him and melting him from the inside. James tastes so unbelievably sweet and rich, the most delicious thing he’s ever had on his tongue, his throat begging for more of the hot liquid as he continues to drink. James is moaning in an absolutely sinful way, not the same way he does during sex, this is something totally different, the sound is almost paralysing like a whole different type of pleasure is overtaking James’ body. It doesn’t take long for both of their hands to find their way into each other’s pants too, stroking each other slowly as Regulus bites down harder, causing James to start whispering profanities into Regulus’ ear, his free hand fisting in Regulus’ hair.
“Reg— harder,” James begs.
Regulus snarls again, his teeth biting harder again and his hand moving more quickly and tightening around James. James’ hand does the same and Regulus is so close, he can feel a tug behind his naval, a complete rush of euphoria taking over his whole body, bringing him to a high that’s almost too overwhelming. Soon, they are a mess in each other’s palms, James is panting hard, but Regulus doesn’t want to stop drinking, he isn’t sure that he can, like an addict he’s so hooked that he’d do anything to have a constant supply of this taste.
“ Regulus ,” James’ voice brings him out of it because it sounds raspy, slightly strained.
Regulus pulls himself away and James slumps down beside him, paler than he was before. They’re both shaking but James is smiling dreamily, his eyes closed and his chest moving up and down slowly.
“James— f*ck , I’m sorry, I should’ve stopped sooner—are you ok?” Regulus looks down at the mark on James’ neck, which is red and still trickling blood, he fights the urge to lean over and lick it off.
“Yeah, I’m good.” James murmurs as holds up a thumb, his eyelids fluttering slightly but not fully opening.
Regulus knew that he would take it too far, he could feel that it was too much as it was happening, but it was like he wasn’t in control of his own body at all, James' blood was in control of him. He pulls himself up from the bed and starts pacing wildly, muttering to himself about how undisciplined he is, which earns a snort from James, who still hasn’t moved.
“James,” Regulus says as he goes to his coat, which is lying on the floor beside the bed, to pull out a small bottle, “you need to drink this.”
James’ eyes do open now, but he doesn’t take the bottle, he just looks up at Regulus with a soft gaze, his pupils so dilated that his brown eyes look black. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hand going to his neck, tracing the mark that Regulus has left behind. Regulus sits down at the foot of the bed, handing James the small bottle, doing everything in his power not to start chewing on his thumbnail.
“You’re so gorgeous.” James smiles.
“Shut up, James, just drink the potion.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a blood-replenishing potion, I made it—well—just in case,” Regulus says, averting his eyes slightly, all of a sudden embarrassed that he had planned for what just happened.
James grins, “That felt f*cking amazing.”
Regulus feels his whole body relax, he hadn’t even realised how much tension he had been holding onto until now. It had felt f*cking amazing for him too, but it was always going to, he’s a vampire and it’s James. He just drank James’ blood. The blood that has been on his mind and in his journal since the minute he crawled out of that grave.
“Pour moi, tu as le goût du paradis,” Regulus whispers.
“I hope that wasn’t you telling me how bad I taste.” James sticks his tongue out as he downs the bottle, colour returning to his face almost instantly. “sh*t, that’s better, thanks.” He hands the bottle back and Regulus puts it back in his coat pocket.
He is lost for words as his eyes fall on James again, the gleam of sweat over his chest and the pink of his lips, the way his eyes are still slightly hazy. James reaches out and takes Regulus’ hand, pulling him forward so he’s in between his legs.
“Are you ok? Was it good for you?” James asks a little anxiously.
“ James—“ Is all Regulus manages to say before he presses his lips to James’.
James must be able to taste his own blood on Regulus’ lips, on his tongue, but he doesn’t seem to care. Regulus wants to tell him that it was so much more than good, he can’t think of a word that’s significant enough to describe how it felt for him. He wants to tell James that he’s never enjoyed the taste of blood before, that his body rejects it like he’s not supposed to drink it. James blood had the opposite effect, it’s the only thing Regulus needs, the only thing that he craves.
“I thought of you, you know when I was digging my way out of my own grave.” Regulus breathes after they pull away.
James winces slightly, it’s the first time Regulus has mentioned that part, the grave part, which he knows James has seen first-hand many times. It’s a memory that has welded itself to the inside of his brain, with no way to hide it from himself. The feeling of the earth pushing down on him, the taste of it in his mouth, the pain in his hands and fingers as he clawed his way out. It was terrible, it really was, but the only image in his head was James. James, James, James.
“Why?” James whispers, fingers stroking through Regulus’ hair, their foreheads pressed together.
“I was in some sort of dream state I think—I didn’t know what I was doing. But in my head, I was crawling my way back to you, back home.” Regulus says.
“Reggie, I—“
“Don’t.” Regulus snaps, pulling himself away and turning his head. He can’t hear those words right now, he can’t hear them ever, he’s too selfish. He won’t be able to do it. He won’t be able to leave James. “You don’t.”
“I do, Regulus, I do.”
“I don’t have a soul. I kill people. I would kill all of your friends and your family and I wouldn’t think twice about it, I would feel nothing .” Regulus gets up, “I killed someone the other night after I left your flat. I drained his body dry and then left it lying on the street and I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it.” He snarls.
“Don’t do this, I know what you’re trying to do.” James pleads, standing up so they are face to face.
“I’m not trying to do anything, I’m telling you who I am. I’m telling you that this —“ he gestures between them, “it’s temporary, just until everything is done.”
“You don’t mean that,” James mutters.
Regulus wants to laugh because James doesn’t even understand how much he really does mean it, how done it really will be after the 31st. He’s sure now that if he tells James everything, he will never let him go through with it, he’ll try to play the hero—like he always does—to find a solution to save him. But once again, Regulus doesn’t want to be saved. He wants to save James. He wants to save Sirius.
“I’m leaving.” Regulus grabs his coat from the floor, putting it on with his back to James.
James grabs his arm and turns him around roughly. “So that’s it then yeah? You’re just going to get off from drinking my blood, be a complete f*cking prick to me and then leave?”
He scoffs, “As if you didn’t just get off from it too.” He wrenches his arm out of James’ grip. “And yes, I am.”
“What about Sirius?” James yells.
“What about him? He's been fine with you for the past—what—seven years? I'm sure he’ll survive.”
“He wants you to stay. He wants to fix things Reg.”
“Well, too f*cking late for that James. He should've tried to fix things when I wasn't f*cking dead.”
He doesn't wait for James’ reply, he isn't even sure if James is going to say anything else. He can't look at James’ face, which he's sure is broken right now because Regulus knows that it was bad, that the words will have cut deep. But they were meant to, it's what he's so very good at after all of those years at home. He needs James to hate him, there can't be anything else even though he knows it's already too late. He goes through the window and is back on the street before he can even comprehend that there are tears in his eyes. He wipes them away viciously and heads straight for the tunnels. He's so caught up in trying to get back to the house that he barely registers someone materialising in front of him until he smacks into them, hard.
“Reggie.” Bellatrix grins, “I've been looking for you, where have you been?”
“I was hungry. But I'm going home now, move out of the way.” he snaps, trying to push past her.
She catches his hand and leans close to his face, “But the Dark Lord has requested us,” she crawls and Regulus wants to slam her face into the floor. “You need to come with me.”
Regulus follows her because he has to, using the darkness of the tunnels to control himself, to calm the shake in his hands and focus his mind. They are so close to the end now, that he can’t risk a slip at the wrong moment. Even if the others aren’t very observant, they will all be more paranoid as the date gets closer. The telltale chill in the air alerts him to Dementors nearby, he locks everything away behind his doors, even though the Dementors tend not to take anything from vampires, he’s not letting go of the memory of the things that have happened with James, the moments with Sirius.
They emerge into the cave, finding most of Voldemort’s followers already assembled around the stone table. Regulus sees Barty and Evan, Barty is smirking at him, head co*cked to the side. He has been so caught up in James that he had forgotten that he needs to talk to Barty and Evan tonight, that he needs to tell them about the plan, about the real reason he has dragged them to Hogsmeade. He takes a seat beside Narcissa, who offers him a glass of blood, which he accepts. He’s not ready for the taste of James that’s still lingering in his mouth to be ruined quite yet, so he pretends to take a sip.
“Regulus.” Voldemort smiles.
“My Lord.” Regulus bows his head and reaches forward to kiss Voldemort’s hand as Voldemort begins to address the group.
Regulus takes a second to look around whilst Voldemort speaks and sees that there are a few unfamiliar faces, other vampires aside from the usual crew, one more werewolf sitting with Greyback’s pack, and a man, a human as far as Regulus can tell, sitting to the right of Voldemort. He has black, greasy hair that falls forward into his eyes, his lips curled in a sneer as his gaze darts around the room. As if Voldemort can read his mind, he clears his throat and holds a hand out, gesturing to the man.
“My friends,” Voldemort says, “This is Severus, an extremely powerful warlock who has been very useful to me.”
That makes sense, a warlock, Regulus knew that Voldemort would be getting magic from somewhere, using the power of dark witches and warlocks wasn’t unheard of amongst vampires, but he can still see the way some of the others are looking at Severus, who is human after all, they can all smell the blood under his skin. Severus nods and kisses Voldemort’s hand as well, his black cloak hanging limply across his shoulders. The conversation continues, the others around the table providing Voldemort with news or updates from the tasks they have been given, Regulus tells them more about James and the others, under-exaggerating their powers and skills and avoiding all eye contact with Barty as he does so.
Mulciber clears his throat as the conversation comes to a close and Regulus’ eyes find him, hunched over slightly beside Lucius. “My Lord, forgive me, but what if the plan does not work, what if the slayer gets away or if he manages to kill you?” His voice is shaking slightly and Regulus rolls his eyes, what an idiot.
Voldemort smiles cruelly, holding out his hand to beckon Mulciber to his side, “Come, Mulciber.” He says and Mulciber gets up slowly, making his way to kneel beside Voldemort.
He’s barely reached the ground before Voldemort has his hands around Mulciber’s neck, in one quick motion, he has ripped Mulciber’s head from his body, as soon as the two parts are completely disconnected, Mulciber turns to ash, the final noise from his throat echoing around the cave. Regulus, once again, finds himself deeply impressed with the sheer strength of it. He wonders if he possesses the power to do that himself, but he’s determined to find out sooner or later.
“Those of you, who do not have faith in me, do not deserve to be here. When hell is upon us, only those most loyal to me shall be welcomed into my circle.” Voldemort snarls before he stands up, retreating into the dark corner of the cave.
Bullsh*t, Regulus thinks, none of them would be welcomed into Voldemort’s circle, he would let them all burn, be ripped apart by hell demons, Voldemort doesn’t care about any of them. Of course, Voldemort will be dead anyway, so none of this matters at all. The others start to stand, some of them muttering to each other under their breath. Bellatrix surveys them, with her arms crossed over her chest, clearly trying to make sure that nobody is having second thoughts. Severus seems to disappear into the darkness like Voldemort, Regulus isn’t sure if it’s magic or simply an allusion. He follows the crowds to the tunnels, slipping off in the direction of the house before both of his arms are grabbed from behind.
“Reggie.” Evan hisses in his ear.
“Fancy a drink?” Barty says and Regulus glares at him, but then begins to walk with them anyway.
When they get to Jimmy’s, they find it to be almost deserted, besides a couple of demons that are arguing sloppily in the corner of the room. Jimmy fumbles with the glass in his hand as they walk through the door, eyes darting to Evan and then quickly to Barty, who is already scowling fiercely at him. Evan grins, waggling his eyebrows at Regulus as he steps up to the bar, ordering three glasses of something as Barty pushes Regulus into a booth that's tucked away in the corner. Regulus sits down reluctantly, taking the glass from Evan and taking a large sip of it before huffing out a breath and looking at the two of them, who are sitting opposite him with expectant looks on their faces.
“Get on with it then,” Regulus mutters.
“Pandora told you to come here. To stop Voldemort?” Evan asks.
Regulus nods, “What else?”
“The slayer.” Barty hisses.
“What about him?” Regulus drawls.
“You know him,” Evan replies, taking a sip of his drink.
“Yes.”
“And the guy that’s with him, the long-haired prick in the leather jacket, he’s your brother?” Barty says.
Regulus hadn’t been sure if they had put this piece of the puzzle together, but Barty has always been obsessive, not able to let anything go. Barty had seen Sirius months ago and Regulus had already suspected that he recognised some sort of similarity between them. Seeing him again tonight must have solidified it for them.
“Very clever Crouch, how did you know?”
“I’d recognise those beautiful grey eyes anywhere, Black, and those cheekbones ? Fantastic genetics.” He smirks.
Regulus scoffs at the thought of his genetics being anything but poisonous. His parents did something right, in choosing each other, because they did make extremely beautiful children, even if they managed to ruin everything else about them. Their mother had told them on more than one occasion how pretty they both were, how it was such a shame that they were both so shameful and selfish and bad. She didn’t dare to scar their faces, or any of their body really, she preferred psychological warfare, a continuous cycle of shame.
Evan is looking between them, eyes narrow, a look of confusion plastered across his face. “So what? You came here to stop Voldemort so that you can kill them yourselves?” Evan asks and Barty smacks him on the back of the head.
“Don’t be stupid, Evan, Regulus here doesn’t want to kill the slayer, you want to f*ck him.” He grins, his teeth flashing, “isn’t that right Reg?”
“I don’t want to,” Regulus replies.
“Come on—“ Barty begins.
“Because I already have, multiple times.” He says smoothly, enjoying the shock on both of their faces, Evan inhaling his drink and coughing and Barty just staring at him, open-mouthed. He doesn’t even try to hide his smugness.
“At least tell me you’ve had a little taste. I bet the slayers into that isn’t he? Filthy little bastard.”
Regulus has Barty by the throat in seconds, pushed up against the wall, he hears slightly wary protests from Jimmy behind the bar, but Regulus just ignores him. Barty is laughing, although it sounds more like a choking noise, with Regulus' hands pressing so tightly against his neck. Regulus is quite tempted to try Voldemort’s trick with Mulciber right about now.
“Can’t really blame you, Reggie, he does look delicious .” Evan’s voice comes from behind him.
Regulus removes one of his hands from Barry’s throat and manages to smash Evan’s face up against the wall, beside Barty’s, one hand on each of them. They don’t try to struggle, they’re both grinning and they both know that Regulus is stronger than them, that he actually could kill them right now if he wants to.
“Touch him and I’ll nail you both to a cross.” Regulus spits as he lets them go, sinking back into the booth and downing the rest of his drink.
“Again, Black, are your threats supposed to put me off?” Barty grins as he takes a seat.
“I mean it.”
“Possessive little thing aren’t you?” Evan smirks. “So what’s your plan?”
Regulus signals to Jimmy to bring the bottle, who comes over a little sheepishly, trying to avoid Barty’s eyes as he sets the bottle down in front of Evan, who thanks him with a flutter of his eyelashes. Regulus rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat before he tells them what is going to happen.
