When We Fell In Love

Chapter 9: Turbulence

Regulus was stuck halfway between the Room of Requirement and the entrance to the dungeons, on the ground floor. Hidden behind a statue, he sat on the floor, his forehead resting on his knees. "What are you doing?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper. If his mother could see him like this... "disgrace of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black". A bitter smile tugged at his lips. Typical of him: thinking of Walburga Black in a moment like this.

His mind still lingered on Remus' words: "Feelings aren't something to run away from." For weeks, Regulus had been coddling himself with the idea that the urge to do... whatever with James was nothing but a chemical reaction, the result of an uncontrollable hormonal storm combined with being surrounded by a bunch of lustful teenagers.

He had always despised emotions. At his age, he considered himself immune to love, distant, detached from any feeling that was not purely practical. Sure, he felt some affinity with Barty and Evan, and maybe even with Remus. But James Potter? No. That was different. James' mere presence triggered something deep inside him, pushing buttons that provoked such a visceral, irrational rejection it was almost paralysing.

Curled up on the floor, Regulus could not stop thinking about that Muggle poet, Catullus: "Odi et amo." Hate and love. "I feel it happening and I am tortured." Oh, how tortured he felt. He pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes, trying to quell the turmoil inside.

"Regulus?" The voice made him flinch. Was he hallucinating? How could he be here, now? "Reg?" A warm hand gently rested on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Potter, what the hell do you want from my life?" Regulus snapped, his voice laced with anger. The desire to be left alone was almost painful. "Why can't you stop tormenting me?"

"I'm sorry, really, I.. I didn't mean to..." The pain in James' voice shattered the icy walls around Regulus' heart.

"James..." His name slipped out like a plea, though Regulus himself did not even know what he was pleading for. But James seemed to understand perfectly. Without a word, he slid down next to him, sitting on the floor.

"I like it when you say my name..." James' voice sent a shiver down Regulus' spine, a strange sensation he could not quite place. It was not pleasant, but not entirely unpleasant either.

"Then I'll make sure never to say it again, Potter."

"Too bad for you, I like it even more when you're mean to me." Regulus exaggeratedly sighed, suppressing a smile. Silence fell between them, but this time there was no tension or awkwardness. James' hand was still on his shoulder, unmoved, but Regulus, who had returned to staring at his shoes, felt it slowly slide down his arm, like a drop of water. Goosebumps rose so high along his skin, it felt like they could pierce through his shirt.

"May I?" James whispered, swallowing hard, his breath shaky. Regulus raised his eyes, locking them with James' caramel-coloured ones. He could feel the warmth of the boy sitting next to him, too close. After another deep breath, James' fingers intertwined with his, tracing light circles on Regulus' knuckle. Each movement sent tiny electric shocks through him, his body slowly relaxing, surrendering completely. He could not control himself anymore. His head fell onto James' shoulder, and it felt as if two pieces of the same puzzle had finally clicked together.

James' free hand rose to Regulus' cheek, caressing it before running through his hair, while his lips pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. Regulus almost could not bear the intimacy, the vulnerability he was not used to, and was not sure he even wanted. But it was so nice, being held and coddled by James' steady hands.

A strong scent of cedar wood and pine filled Regulus' nostrils, sending his mind into a tailspin. He pressed his face even closer, burying it against James' sculpted muscles, who gently stroked him without ever stopping. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly. Then, with a measured movement, James pulled back slightly, as if wanting to get a better look at him. But Regulus did not have the courage to meet his gaze, aware of all the things that eye contact could imply.