unspeakable | jegulus

i thought i knew you, what did i know?

chapter title: i'm looking through you by the beatles

Regulus, in all his ominous perfection, glanced at him from under his eyelashes and ignored the presence of other people in the Gryffindor common room.

"When are you planning to show me your poetry collection?" The firelight glow turned his black hair reddish. Maybe it was the red all around him reflecting off of the inky darkness of his hair. A darkness so deep it was like a sky with no stars, like delving into an abyss when James buried his face in it. He smelled like rosemary, mint, with an undertone of smoke and spice, like expensive tea.

The people around them were getting less and less offended by their relationship. No one shot them dirty looks while they warmed themselves by the fire, no one scoffed when he put his arms around Regulus and pulled him against his chest.

"Soon, I just want to stay here for a little while longer before we have to deal with Sirius." He kissed the places he could reach. The shell of his ear, the base of his skull where it met his spine, his clothed shoulder. He could still feel the hum in his chest. A secret revealed. Two secrets in one day.

"Deal with him?" Regulus extricated himself from his grip. James loved the flash of his pale eyes, his dark eyelashes, the straight and narrow line of his nose. His delicate, pale face washed warm in the flames glow. He prodded at the fire with one of the metal pokers, graceful and poised like he always was. "I don't think there's much to deal with. You're perfectly capable of casting a muffling charm, so we can just stay in your bed."

"For hours?"

"I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves occupied." He smiled again, that new sweet smile, not sharp. James wondered if anyone else had ever made him smile like that. Warm with affection, eyes crinkled at the corners. "We can make compositions. You write one about me and I write one about you."

"Have you ever written a poem before?"

"No. How hard can it be?" Hard, James thought, harder than you'd think. "Have you?"

"I've tried." Regulus lit up. His hair was mussed, his eyes were bright, and his shoulders weren't pushed back in a perfect line with his hips. This was as intimate as seeing him naked.

"Can I read them?"

He tugged on the end of his green and silver tie, smiling. "No." Regulus frowned. "They're horrible. I threw most of them away."

"Why? When you're eighty years old you'll wish you kept those. They're little remnants of your seventeen year old self, passed down through time even in their ugliness. Now you'll never be able to read them. Good or bad. That's a tragedy."

"I like you."

"You love me," Regulus said slowly, like he was savouring the taste of it.

"That too."

A grin, if Regulus was even capable of that, spread across his perpetually morose face. He kissed James with his lips still curled into a smile.

"You love me," he whispered.

"I do." James didn't say it again, even though he wanted to. For now, this was enough.