just lovers like we were supposed to be

ACT FIVE: Part One

Chapter Notes
warnings for this chapter: a very brief reference to child abuse (Walburga and Orion's A+ parenting), but it's very 'blink and you miss it'. very, very mild angst. nothing explicit, just some heat. oh, and lots of fluff
you're gonna like this one <3
enjoy
See the end of the chapter for more notes

The last person Regulus would have expected to find watching him from the stands on the pitch is
Remus Lupin. For one, he has been subjected to James bemoaning that one of his best mates finds Quidditch to be stupid (an hour; he complained about this for a solid hour). For two, well, Regulus and Remus aren't exactly friends, really.

Regulus' feelings for Remus are rather bland, honestly. They never actually interacted before Regulus reconciled with Sirius, and even after, his presence was muted. They didn't carry on one conversation before Regulus started dating James—fake dating, he reminds himself. And, with that, he mostly filtered Remus in his head as Sirius' boyfriend, even before he was actually Sirius' boyfriend.

This means that Regulus has come to decide that one, Remus obviously has questionable taste if Sirius does it for him, and two, if he ever changes his tastes, Regulus will have to kill him. A bit of a conundrum, that, but he manages well enough.

Technically, Regulus doesn't have to go see what he wants. He could likely make it back to the castle before Remus ever makes it down from the stands, if he tries hard enough. It would probably be smarter, honestly, but Remus is here for one of two reasons—Sirius or James. Regulus is unfortunately invested in both, so he heaves a sigh and flies over.

"You're good," Remus offers when Regulus sits down next to him, propping his broom against the bench beside him.

"I know," Regulus says. "What do you want?"

Remus snorts. "Right to it, then."

"I'm not Sirius. I won't dally around the point."

"Mm, suppose not, but you run just like he does. You both run like you're trying to outrun yourselves."

"Oh, so this is about Sirius, then? Trouble in paradise? If you two are having problems, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place looking for—what, exactly?" Regulus mutters.

"It's not about Sirius; I just have a compulsory need to point out uncomfortable truths. Misery loves company, and I have enough of my own uncomfortable truths to contend with, so other people's blissful ignorance makes me bitter," Remus tells him wryly, and Regulus' lips twitch. "Sirius and I are—well, we're always having problems."

"Well, that sounds unhealthy," Regulus muses.

"It's not, really. We're always working through them. I've come to appreciate the consistency." Remus pauses, then looks over at him and purses his lips. "That makes it sound like I'm not happy with him, which might not be the best thing to insinuate to his brother. I am, you know. Very happy. What I mean to say is, we're a little bit of everything all at once, and I never had everything before I had him. I reckon we'll always be like this, but that's what I'm hoping for."

Regulus shrugs. "I don't care."

"You must, even a bit."

"No. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you, because you'd tell him, and I won't be giving him the satisfaction."

"It's a bit mental the way you two love each other," Remus says, shaking his head before he looks away.

"We're Blacks," Regulus reminds him, and Remus inclines his head like that explains everything. It likely does. In any case, Regulus doesn't care, really, so long as Sirius is carrying on in his little happy relationship, so long as Remus doesn't give him a reason to care, such as hurting Sirius in some way.