I'm such a pathetic queer, tjom

harry: *thinking he got caught sneaking out* sure…

james: im just not sure how to tell regulus

harry: *really panicking* pls don’t

james: *heartbroken* what

harry: i won’t sneak out again, just please don’t tell him

james: i- i was wondering how to tell him i wanted to renew our vows

harry: oh, then-

​"We are sleeping together," Sirius mumbled, his chin hooked lazily over Remus's shoulder. They were on the common room sofa, and despite the fact that they were the only ones sitting on it, Sirius was pressed practically into Remus's lap.

​"We share a dormitory," Remus corrected, trying to ignore the solid warmth of Sirius against his side. "That is not the same thing."

​"She asked me how long we've been in love."

​Remus stopped breathing. The crackle of the fireplace suddenly sounded very far away. "And what did you say?"

​Sirius shifted, finally dropping his feet from the coffee table to turn and face Remus completely. He didn't hesitate. "I told her since second year."

​Remus's heart slammed against his ribs. "You lied."

​"Did I?" Sirius asked softly. His hand moved up, his thumb brushing over a faint scar on Remus's cheek. "Tell me I lied, Moony, and I'll go tell Mary she was wrong."

Remus stared at him, the silence roaring in his ears. The weight of it was too much. Sirius was too close, too warm, and looking at him like that.

The fight completely drained out of him. With a shaky exhale, Remus just let his head drop forward, burying his face in the crook of Sirius's neck.

He felt Sirius’s breath catch before both arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against the cushions.

“Mister Black, can I speak with you for a moment?” Professor McGonagall asked him with an odd expression, interrupting his low conversation with Barty, Evan, and Pandora.

Looking up nervously, Regulus nodded.

Pulling him to the side of the group of Hogwarts graduates, McGonagall began to whisper. “Mister Black, I just wanted to let you know that we had to move your family from the front row. They were…erm…causing a bit of a commotion, and some other people complained–”

“My family?” he gaped. Never in a million years would he have predicted that Walburga and Orion would show up to his graduation, not after their falling out at the end of last year. They were here? What awful things were they doing? He tried not to panic, clenching his fists.

Unaware of his terror, McGonagall continued. “Yes. Potter, Lupin, and Sirius were setting off fireworks already, I think they have a whole display planned for when you walk the stage. Even Euphemia and Fleamont–”

Shocked, Regulus couldn’t help but interrupt. “They–they’re all here?” he asked, amazed.

She paused. “Why–yes. Of course. Who did you think I meant?”

A small smile formed on his face. He’d thought James could come, maybe Sirius. But Remus? James’s parents? He couldn’t stop smiling. “No, I–sorry. Okay. Tell James if he doesn’t get his act together I’m staying at Remus’s for the summer.”

The Professor grinned. “I think that will be very convincing.” As she turned to leave, though, she looked back. “Congratulations, Mister Black. On the diploma and everything else.”

Curl || Jegulus Word count: 1,039

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic @lilldrknesss

Regulus notices it first because James is talking.

James always talks with his hands—wide, reckless gestures that nearly take out three ink bottles and Sirius’s elbow in the process—but this time Regulus’s attention drifts somewhere else entirely. Specifically, to the curl of James’s hair falling forward over his forehead.

It’s damp.

Which is odd, considering they’ve been sitting in the common room for nearly twenty minutes.

“You’re not listening,” Sirius says lazily from the sofa, not even looking up from the magazine he’s pretending to read.

“I am,” Regulus replies automatically.

“You’re staring at Prongs’s head.”

James freezes mid-sentence. “My what?”

Regulus exhales slowly through his nose. Sirius is insufferable.

“Your hair,” Sirius clarifies, finally glancing up with a grin that’s much too sharp to be friendly. “My brother appears fascinated.”

James instinctively runs a hand through it, making the curl worse instead of better. It springs back stubbornly over his forehead.

Regulus looks away before he can smile.

“It’s wet,” he says instead.

James blinks. “Yeah. Shower.”

“That was before dinner.”

“So?”

Regulus gestures vaguely at the offending curl. “It’s still damp.”

Sirius snorts. “Reg, you sound like you’re conducting a scientific investigation.”

James laughs, warm and easy. “Alright then, Professor Black. What’s your conclusion?”

Regulus hesitates.

The curl moves when James tilts his head. It catches the light from the fireplace and looks softer than it has any right to be.

Regulus has known James Potter for five years. He’s dated him for three months.

This is somehow worse.

“You’re doing it again,” Sirius says.

Regulus pointedly ignores him.

James leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. The movement makes the curl bounce again.

“I didn’t dry it properly,” James offers. “Happy?”

“Immensely.”

Sirius makes a gagging noise.

“Merlin,” he mutters. “You two are revolting.”

“We’re sitting three feet apart,” James says.

“Yes,” Sirius replies darkly. “And somehow it’s still unbearable.”

Regulus considers hexing him.

James notices the look and grins. “Don’t. He’ll cry about it for weeks.”

“I would not.”

“You absolutely would.”

Regulus allows himself a small smile before glancing back at James.

The curl is still there.

It shouldn’t be interesting. It’s hair. James’s hair has always been a mess—sticking up in odd directions like it refuses to obey gravity or basic grooming principles.

But the curl is different.

It’s deliberate in the way chaos sometimes is.

“Alright,” James says suddenly.

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at it for five full minutes.”

“I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

Sirius lifts his magazine without looking up. “Seven, actually.”

Regulus refuses to dignify that with a response.

James leans even closer now, close enough that Regulus can see the tiny droplets still clinging near his hairline.

“Go on then,” James says.

Regulus narrows his eyes. “Go on then what?”

James gestures to his own head.

Regulus stares.

“You’re curious,” James explains.

“I am not curious.”

“You are visibly curious.”

Sirius sighs loudly. “Just touch the hair, Regulus. Merlin.”

Regulus turns slowly toward his brother. “You are remarkably invested in this.”

“I want peace,” Sirius says. “And right now the room is full of tension because you’re both pretending you don’t want to do something incredibly obvious.”

Regulus looks back at James.

James shrugs, looking amused rather than embarrassed.

“It’s just hair,” he says.

That’s not the point.

Regulus reaches out before he can overthink it.

James goes very still.

Regulus’s fingers brush the curl.

It’s softer than expected.

Not styled, not controlled—just thick, slightly damp hair that immediately tries to spring back when Regulus presses it between his fingers.

James makes a small noise.

Regulus pauses.

“…What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing.”

James clears his throat. “You surprised me.”

Sirius lowers the magazine again and looks deeply entertained.

Regulus continues examining the curl with what he hopes appears to be academic detachment.

“It does that naturally?” he asks.

James huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Regulus twists the curl lightly.

It springs back again.

James’s shoulders tense just slightly.

“Oh,” Regulus says.

Sirius leans forward.

“Oh?” he echoes.

Regulus ignores him.

He does it again—slowly this time, winding the curl once around his finger.

James inhales.

Regulus finally looks up.

James is staring at him in that particular way he does when he’s trying not to look too pleased with himself.

“Problem?” James asks.

“No.”

Regulus unwinds the curl.

It bounces back into place.

James’s mouth twitches.

Sirius drops the magazine entirely.

“I’m leaving,” he announces, standing up. “This is somehow worse than watching you two kiss.”

“We’re not kissing,” James says.

“Yet,” Sirius replies darkly, heading for the stairs. “But if I stay another minute, I’ll have to witness whatever weird hair-flirting ritual this is.”

Regulus waits until Sirius disappears.

The common room grows quieter without him.

James sits back again, but the curl still hangs over his forehead.

Regulus studies it.

“You liked that,” James says.

Regulus lifts an eyebrow. “Did I?”

James nods toward his hand. “You’re still holding it.”

Regulus glances down.

He is.

His finger is still loosely hooked around the curl.

He lets go.

It springs free.

James grins.

“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus says.

“You started it.”

“I was observing.”

“Observing.”

“Yes.”

James leans closer again, voice softer now.

“Go on then,” he murmurs. “Observe some more.”

Regulus should say no.

Instead he reaches up again, brushing the curl back from James’s forehead this time.

It doesn’t stay.

It falls right back into place.

James laughs quietly.

“See?” he says. “Hopeless.”

Regulus tilts his head.

“Not hopeless,” he says thoughtfully.

He curls it once more around his finger.

James’s breath catches again.

Regulus notices.

Interesting.

He releases it slowly.

The curl falls perfectly back where it started.

Regulus smiles faintly.

“I see the appeal,” he admits.

James blinks. “Of what?”

Regulus leans back in his chair, finally satisfied.

“Your hair,” he says calmly.

James runs a hand through it again, making the curl worse.

“You’re strange,” James tells him.

Regulus considers that.

“Yes,” he says.

Then, after a moment—

“You make a very specific sound when someone touches that curl.”

James chokes.

Regulus allows himself the smallest, most satisfied smile.

The curl bounces again when James tries—and fails—to flatten it.

Regulus is already reaching for it.

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - December 6: Snake - Words: 246

“I want this one”, Harry pointed with all his six-year-old’s assertiveness.

“Oh”, James swallowed and rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Maybe we should look at some others…”

“Sure, if you want to.” Harry agreed. “But this is the one I want.”

James quickly grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him away through the store. Regulus chuckled quietly behind them.

“Look at all those colourful birds. Aren’t they pretty?”

“I guess.” Harry shrugged.

“He knows what he wants”, Regulus sing-songed behind them.

James pulled Harry towards another section of the store. “What about those turtles? Turtles are cute.”

“In a way.” Harry said diplomatically.

“He’s not going to change his mind”, Regulus whispered smugly in James’ ear.

“Maybe…” James started after they had looked through more or less the entire animal store. “Maybe we should go home and think about this.”

He was met with two sets of crossed arms and disappointedly raised eyebrows, but it was Regulus who spoke.

“You promised Harry that if he was brave at the doctor's, he’d get to choose whatever animal he wanted, granted you weren’t allergic.”

“I know but… a snake? Really?”

“Do you have a snake allergy?” Regulus asked sternly.

James sighed and glanced at the wall were the nasty repulsive creatures crawled in their terrariums.

Regulus crouched to Harry’s level. “What do you say? If dad show us how brave he is by giving you a snake, we’re buying ice-cream on the way home?”

“james? what’s wrong? are you…are you crying?”

regulus’ heart breaks when there’s only a sob in response.

“baby? tell me what’s wrong. what happened, jamie?” regulus sits up, leaning over james’ body and inspecting his tear stained face for any hint of what caused him to wake up like this.

james shakes his head, smiling sheepishly through the wetness on his face. “i’m okay.”

regulus frowns, feeling helpless. “don’t lie to me. you’re obviously not okay.”

“no, really, i’m fine. i promise. “ james turns so they’re facing each other, reaching up to place both hands on regulus’ cheeks, releasing a sigh filled with contentment.

“but why are you crying?”

at this, james giggles bashfully. “it’s just that we have such a beautiful life, regulus. no one understands me like you do. no one loves me like you do and no one ever could love me like you. we’ve invested so much effort into making this house perfect for us.“

“our wedding was a dream come true. not to mention, we’re raising the coolest and smartest people i’ve ever met in my life. i never get sick of it honestly,” james tells regulus, sighing again and moving into his personal space in order to rest his head on regulus’ thigh.

regulus’ chest feels warm at the honest love in james’ voice. he slips his fingers into his husband’s hair, softly detangling the knots from sleeping. “i don’t understand. that makes you sad?”

james closes his eye as he says, “i’m just so happy. so grateful to have met you.”

regulus feels nauseated with the amount of affection that wells up inside of him at james’ candid words. he’s not even trying to smooth talk regulus, he truly feels this way.

shit. now, regulus wants to cry.

“i’m really happy too,” he whispers, still petting james’ curls.

“you are?” james asks, not disbelieving but wanting confirmation all the same.

regulus smiles even though james cannot see. “very happy.”

“good,” james hums. “thank you.”

“for what?”

“for respecting me and trusting me. for caring for me and making me a better person.”

james sighs a third time as regulus digs his fingers into his scalp the way he likes. “for loving me.”

Not when his mother deemed him too old for stuffed toys.

Not when Sirius left him in that hell-hole of a house.

Not when Andromeda's name was blasted from the tree for marrying tonks.

Not when his mother put him under the cruciatus curse for not being pristine enough.

He thought he had forgotten how to cry.

That lasted until James Potter stood in front of him with a completely annotated version of "The Picture of Dorian Gray", all because he had mentioned once how romantic it would be if someone annotated a book he liked for him to read and know their thoughts- That was an year ago when they first started going out together. James had remembered and had done it for him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry groaned, slumping against the back of his chair. “We’ve been doing this all day, Papa, please.”

Regulus shot Harry a look. They were currently cleaning every magical item the Black Family owned—the safer ones, at least. Regulus had gotten rid of each and every Dark Artefact ages ago. Unfortunately, the safer ones were still extremely volatile and sensitive to magic, so they had to clean them the Muggle way.

The house-elves had done the job for centuries, but Regulus decided to take the burden off Kreacher’s shoulders starting this year.

“We’re halfway done, Harry,” Regulus said, meticulously brushing the dust off the chalice he was holding. “Continue with the orb, will you?”

Harry pouted, but he took the artefact back into his hands.

James entered the study, holding a tray of tea and biscuits. He laid it down on the desk, then ruffled Harry’s hair. Harry made a sound of protest, muttering something about being fifteen already. James ignored it.

“No offense, Reggie, but we could always throw them all out,” he suggested, looking at the way Regulus pored over the object in his hand. “I know you said all these are sort of lucky charms for the Black family, but neither you or Sirius has plans for children, so there won’t be anyone to need that luck after—”

“Why wouldn’t there be?” Regulus frowned. “Harry will inherit it all.”

James blinked. “Harry?”

“Me?” Harry asked, his mouth stuffed full of biscuits.

Immediately, Regulus regrets saying those words. Of course. He’d overstepped, yet again. Harry wasn’t a Black. He already had the Potter fortune under his name. Yes, Regulus had raised the boy since he was six, and Harry had called him Papa since he was ten, but maybe there were still a few steps of distance between them…

Before Regulus could spiral any further, he noticed James getting teary-eyed.

“James?” Regulus asked, alarmed.

“I’m going to need a—” James wiped his eyes, looking overwhelmed with pride and joy. “A moment. Excuse me.”

He walked out of the study, leaving Regulus staring at the closed door in confusion. He could hear James sobbing as he headed down the hall.

“Brilliant, you’ve made him cry, Papa,” Harry said, looking quite entertained by the whole situation. “Will I inherit the Black fortune, though?”

“I…” Regulus blinked. “That is my plan, yes.”

“Reggie. Love, I have to go,” James murmured weakly into messy curls, not moving a centimeter as he enjoyed the warmth of the boy he was currently holding in his arms.

“Nnph,” a small, sleepy voice mumbled from under a blanket. Two arms moved to quickly wind their way around his waist and grip him like a vice.

A few months ago, James might not have understood what that meant. But now, having been Regulus Black’s boyfriend for almost half a year (half a year, oh Merlin!) he spoke sleep-Regulus fluently.

“Yeah, love,” he whispered, his heart cracking in two. “‘Ve got practice. But I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Nnph, s’here,” was the garbled reply that made James smile even more. Gods, he loved Regulus like this. When coherent, the Sytherin would of course rather die than be needy. But half-asleep? He clung onto James like a koala, demanding cuddles like they were the only thing that could sustain him.

“Baby, I’ll stay over again tonight, okay? I’ll even bring you your favorite chocolate, yeah? I just…I really have to go…” he nearly-whined. He didn’t want to be the one to break Regulus’s hold. The thought of doing so made him want to cry.

The bribe of chocolate, though, seemed to be enough to reason with sleep-Regulus. The arms around him loosened.

“‘Ve fun,” the boy mumbled, rolling over. “Love you.”

James froze, still as a statue, his eyes wide as saucers. 

Neither of them had ever said that before.

“I…Reg? What’d you say?” he asked, heart hammering so quickly against his ribcage he wondered if such a thing could bruise. “You…you what, my love?”

But the next noise out of Regulus’s mouth wasn’t a word. It was a soft snore.

James’s tense body slowly relaxed onto the mattress. He lifted himself up onto his elbow to look at the boy next to him. Smiling and pressing a gentle kiss to Regulus’s cheek, he murmured, “I love you. So much.”

Then, he rose and began to creep from the room.

-

“Where’s Reg? You two are normally together on weekends,” Sirius questioned.

“I think he’s angry with me,” James replied with a shrug. “He’ll tell me why when he’s ready.”

Sirius scoffed at this, but didn’t question further, until the boy himself seemed to appear in front of them, his face contorted in a scowl and his arms crossed. James just smiled up at Regulus.

“Go away,” Regulus told Sirius. “I need to talk to James.”

“No,” Sirius replied defiantly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Regulus glared but did not attempt to force him any further, instead turning to James. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Evans are doing a project together? Hiding something?”

Knowing this act all too well, James put his hands on Regulus’s hips and pulled him forward so he was standing in between James’s legs. “Nothing at all, angel. It just slipped my mind.”

Regulus considered this for a moment before nodding, hesitantly leaning down to kiss James’s forehead. James beamed up at him, causing Regulus to roll his eyes. It didn’t convince James, though, as he could see the smile twitching at Regulus’s lips. 

“Astronomy tower later?” James whispered. Regulus nodded again, mumbling an ‘I love you’ before walking away.

“Merlin, he’s dramatic,” Sirius commented.

James,grinning like a lovesick idiot: wow babyyy!! You look great.