PART I: REGULUS
They're in his father's garden in Scotland, the sun is out but it isn't too hot, the grass soft underneath them. James's eyes are bright, the tops of his cheeks flushed. He laughs at something Regulus says before leaning forward and nuzzling at his neck. The affection makes Regulus squirm but he doesn't pull away, if anything he leans into it.
The air smells sweet—they picked mint that morning and the scent still lingers on their fingers, their touches. Regulus takes James's hand, holding it above himself, turning it over a few times before pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm—to each of his knuckles. James grins stupidly at him.
Overhead birds twitter and bugs hum and the rest of the world feels very, very far away. They have no one to hide from and nothing to do. Regulus breathes in deep and then exhales, before pressing another kiss to James's wrist, feeling his pulse beat against his lips.
James hums happily, eyes drifting closed. "We should stay here."
"Okay."
"Forever."
"Okay."
Regulus keeps making slow, aimless kisses along James's forearm, enjoying the way it makes his cheeks grow rosier and his lips quirk up. James is a lot like a dog—he loves to wag his tail.
"Tell me more," James says lazily.
"More?"
"Of the story. We were just getting to the good part."
Regulus snorts. "What's the good part, exactly?"
Regulus is pretty sure James opens his eyes just to roll them at him. "The part where Achilles kills Hector, obviously.
Regulus arches his brow. "I thought you liked Hector?"
"Sure, but I also like Achilles kicking ass."
"Uh-huh," Regulus has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, he feels a little delirious right now. Maybe it's the sun. Maybe it's the way that James keeps looking at him.
James taps the toe of his foot against Regulus's heel. "Go on then."
Regulus sighs like it's some big inconvenience but the truth is, he loves telling stories. Always has. They're a kind of magic. They let you be anyone, anywhere, doing anything. He's not sure he would have survived his childhood without stories.
"As Dawn, in saffron robes, rose from the stream of Ocean, bringing light to gods and men," Regulus starts, voice soft, drifting on the breeze. "Thetis reached the ships bearing Hephaestus' gift. She found her beloved son groaning aloud, his arms round Patroclus' body, while his men stood by, weeping bitterly. The shining goddess came and took his hand, saying; 'My child you must let him go, however great your sorrow, and leave him here, dead for all time, slain by the will of heaven. Now, take up instead Hephaestus' marvellous armour, more beautiful than any that ever adorned a man's shoulders."
James scrunches up his nose, the expression so adorable that it actually takes Regulus's breath away, sucking his next words back down his throat.
"I don't think I could do it."
Regulus has to get control of his breathing before he can answer. "Do what?"
"Let you go."
His heart gives a pathetic leap. "Oh?" he has to clear his throat because his voice has grown far too sappy. "Even if I was a dead body?"
"Even then," James says quietly.
The next thing Regulus knows James is rolling on top of him, pining him to the grass. He hovers over Regulus, hair hanging down around his face. Always a mess. Always so lovely. "Even then," James murmurs against his lips.
