SUPER TROUPER ⇒ jegulus one shots

MAY THE BEST MAN WIN (AND HE DOES)

James is all but set to murder his best friends; he doesn't even care that it is just a little over three months before their wedding. He doesn't even have the slightest care that they have both asked him to be their best man on their big day. All he cares about is who else Remus and Sirius have asked to be their best man.

This is where James is both murderous and confused. How the fuck can there be multiple best mans? Best men? Plural?

James looks back and forth; between the happy couple, Peter, and Regulus; who appears equally confused, perhaps not quite murderous just yet, however.

"You want me to...to share the title?" James utters. "As if you haven't known me since we were eleven-"

"Well, on that note, he's known me since I was zero, Potter,"

"Oh, what are we? Five?" James hisses in response.

A devious smirk appears across the delicate face of Regulus Black as he folds his arms over his chest tightly. "I don't know, why did you know Sirius back then too?" He smirks.

"Oh, give it a rest, you two," Sirius rolls his eyes fondly, taking Remus' hand in his. "I'm sure you can both share me for one day? My wedding day? To the love of my life?" He smiles softly. "We can make that happen, boys, can't we?"

"I just don't understand why there has to be two best men, and then poor Wormy," James scoffs. "I mean, would it not make sense to just, oh, I don't know, pick just one of us?" Or none of us, at this stage. Why leave Pete as the odd man out, huh?

"But how could I pick? I love you both so much!" Sirius all but grins.

Peter chuckles. "Well, I am very glad, for once, that that love has been spread to these two idiots, rather than me. I, for one, am not ever going to be writing some stupid speech about how in love the pair of you are," He rolls his eyes in a fond manner, laughing a little.

"Well, boys, may the best best man win," Remus smirks half heartedly, fingers interlaced with his fiancés.

And with this, James Potter and Regulus Black are tied together, binded by their new found title, binded together; shackled by their shared role.

"This is so fucking stupid-"

"Regulus is his brother, Prongs. I mean, what did you expect?" Peter squints, before bringing his mug of coffee to his parted lips, almost shrugging at James, in a well, what can ya do? sort of manner.

"I expected them to hate each other for the rest of their lives, actually,"

Peter shakes his head, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as he sits back in James' kitchen chair. "They're brothers, James. They were brothers at war for years, and now they aren't. Of course Padfoot was going to ask Regulus to be part of his big day, it doesn't make you less important just because you're sharing the role, you might even be grateful for the help it'll be,"

James wrinkles his nose slightly. "I don't think I'm important," He mumbles. "I don't care about sharing the role, I care about who I'm sharing it with,"

Peter snorts. "Yeah. Regulus Black is no peach, but I'm sure it'll be fine. Just get together and sort out a speech, and you're finished. There's no big hullabaloo to be said about it, it'll be fine, James,"

James scoffs. "Fine? With Regulus Black?" He repeats.

"He can be your co-pilot,"

"I don't need a co-pilot-"