Of Pinstripes And Potions

Chapter 25

Regulus approaches them, and James isn't aware yet that he's about to do something big, something he can't— or won't, take back. Something that very well might make Sirius explode and ruin things several times over. As he bounds up the hill towards him, all James can think is that he always looks better with a bit of colour in his cheeks. Whether that's because he's been running— as it seems he has now, or because James has said something to embarrass him, or because he's still heavy with sleep, that pink glow to his cheeks is one James doesn't understand. Physically, he knows it's something to do with blood pooling somewhere because... something. But really, how a touch of colour in his cheeks has the ability to render James almost speechless, so completely distracted, is beyond him.

He finally reaches them, hands pausing on his knees as he catches his breath, as they both watch him with twin raised eyebrows, lifted in confusion and awaiting an explanation. Sirius' is lined with more irritation than James', brought on by nothing other than habit where his brother is concerned. They don't notice Snape following closely behind him, would probably begin to piece things together if they had so soon. James opens his mouth to speak, to ask, to warn Sirius that he didn't know Regulus would be out there, that he hadn't tricked him into the reunion... something of the sort. Truthfully, he doesn't really know what he's going to say. Nothing comes out. Instead, Regulus is the first to speak.

"Sorry," is all he says, and James doesn't know what he's apologising for, or which of them he's apologising to. But the next thing he's aware of is Regulus' lips on his, the immense effort it takes not to drop his broom from where it rests on his shoulder, Regulus' long fingers twisted into his shirt, holding on tight like James might disappear if he lets go. A gasp from Sirius, who obviously hasn't decided that he ought to be outraged about it yet. And then Regulus is pulling back, face even more flushed, and licking his lips because apparently he hasn't already done enough yet to make James crazy.

It's the second time they've kissed. That's the only thing he thinks as he watches Regulus recover himself. Both times, it has been Regulus kissing him, and James has been helpless to do anything but let him. This time, just like the last time, he tries to spoil it with what he says after;

"think of something you want, to make it even. Let me know when you've decided."

He tries to step around them then. The fingers grasping at his wrist seem to surprise him as much as they surprise James, who stares down at his own hand in confusion for a moment. He glances once to Sirius before looking back to Regulus, just long enough to see that he still hasn't settled into the eventual, inevitable anger. He still has a moment.

"It'll be pretty difficult to ask something of you when I'm dead." James says, with a nod in Sirius' direction. Regulus laughs. It's abrupt, bubbles up out of nowhere before he can suppress it, and then he bites his lip. A smile remains in place though, lips that have been on James' spreading to show his teeth. As amused as he is, he still doesn't relax, is still skittish, and James suspects Snape is probably lurking around somewhere given the fact that Regulus has just kissed him in broad daylight (and that's a first).

"In that case, be sure your ghost doesn't stay here. I don't want it pestering me for the next year." Regulus says. Mere weeks ago, he would never have approached Sirius willingly, and now he's standing there, lingering in his presence, making jokes with his best friend. Snape is definitely about. If not Snape, then one of his little cronies. Hadn't Regulus said he'd suspected Rosier might do Snape's bidding? Though his instincts of self-preservation are telling James he ought to let Regulus go as soon as he can, to show Sirius that he hadn't done anything, not really, he's also unwilling to until he knows Regulus is in the clear. He searches the grounds beyond the boy's shoulder, looking out for any shape of a person, or flash of a green tie. He finds nothing, frowns.