my almost lover

+ one: seven years later

+ one: seven years later

It's funny to talk about their love story at dinner parties. That hasn't changed in the seven years that they've been together. Regulus assumed he'd get bored of it after a while, continuously hearing about how oblivious James had been for months and how endlessly ridiculous it was to believe the two of them were anything less than romantic.

But there's always something new with every rendition. Like the discovery that James had a crush on Regulus in fifth year but hadn't realised it because 'it's completely normal to want to know how soft your Quidditch rivals lips are, right?'. Or how falling asleep with Regulus in his arms had stopped James from having nightmares about his lack of support for Remus Lupin's 'furry little problem' (a secret shared in the dead of night with the promise of a forever friendship).

Regulus has always loved James Potter.

He just didn't realise he'd keep falling deeper in love every day.

A part of Regulus expected something to go wrong. After the drama that was his overly oblivious boyfriend, he assumed there would be further arguments. There was definite insecurity for a while; Regulus continuously asked if they were still together, while James repeatedly reminded Regulus how much he loved him.

He still does tell him every day. (Regulus thinks he'd have it on a constant loop if he could)

Their years together have been peaceful, sweet, through their respective graduations and their shift into careers and adult life. From the second James moved out and dragged Regulus with him it's been a natural progression, neither had even considered an alternative.

They both worked in the Ministry, James in the Magical Transportation department working with Quidditch stars. At the same time, Regulus lingered in the quiet lower floors of historical archives, finding information to support House Elf Liberation trials at the Wizengamot. Their hours aligned nicely, usually arriving home within an hour of each other – or simply waiting for one another and stopping off somewhere nice to eat on their way home.

The minor blip of his oblivious partner has been very much forgotten for the most part when it comes to their near-perfect life together, and James is doting enough that Regulus hasn't had the heart to keep a grudge.

Or, at least, he didn't think he was petty enough.

Until he found the ring box hidden in a mug that neither of them ever used.

The idea makes him elated, naturally. There is no universe where he'd dream of saying no to marrying James; it's inconceivable. And yet, a wicked part of him sees the opportunity for what it is, a way to close the door on something that should have been shut long ago.

Is it pathetic and petty? Yes.

Is the Black family infamous for holding grudges? Yes.

Has Regulus ever gotten back at James for his idiocy in their teen years? No.

He has to wonder how James would cope with having a blissfully ignorant partner. And a marriage proposal seems like the perfect time to execute his light-hearted revenge.

The first proposal comes only a week later, and Regulus has to pride himself on his poker face. He's been looking for the signs of a proposal, watching James closely for any change in behaviour or any slip-up that might reveal his intention to give him a ring.

When James asks him for dinner on an ordinary Wednesday evening, Regulus knows it's coming. Still, he smiles and accepts to give nothing away. If James is suspicious, he certainly doesn't show it.