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Chapter Text

An erratically windy afternoon found James cooped up on the thirteenth floor of a brick newspaper building on Eighth Avenue, raking his hands through his hair and glaring at his laptop. The document was blank save a single bolded name that hung ominously in the headline, where it had been taunting him for days.

Regulus Black.

In the newsroom, the click of other keyboards and phone rings carried on despite James’ private crisis at his desk. He slammed his laptop shut as if it were cursed, then shimmied open the stubborn window sash, desperate for a breath of the fresh Manhattan pollution. He sagged out the art deco trim and sighed. In his clumsiness, he nearly lost his glasses to the steep fall below. He caught them just in time.

“Shit,” he murmured.

A pigeon eyed him curiously from a ledge.

“Potter!” a shrill voice echoed from inside, and he groaned, extracting himself from the window and bumping his head against the top in the process.

He turned around to find the Editor in Chief peering over the divider into his messy office. Rita Skeeter’s sharp green eyes roved over the papers and trinkets flooding his desk, the coffee cup with a mountain of whipped cream melting over the brim, the photos of his parents and friends tacked to his billboard, and nerdy movie posters plastered on the wall. She pondered the mug with Sirius’ face on it, last year’s Christmas gift, quirking a penciled eyebrow.

“Your working environment is full of character,” she chirped, her magenta claw-like fingernails crawling over the top of the divider as she continued to ogle his cubicle. “One that’s slowly spiraling into madness. In the four years you’ve been here, have you ever cleaned your space?”

“Uh. I did just last week,” James told her proudly, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the mess.

He saw what she meant. His working space was an avalanche of junk that reflected the recent failures of his career. Files lay askew on the floor like a crime scene. Mini skyscrapers of boxes took up most of the walking space. And in a fit of frustrating writer’s block, he’d taken to folding his drafts into a zoo of origami animals. He nudged a cardboard box to hide a pile of paper penguins.

“Hm.” Skeeter cocked her head. “My office. Five.”

With that, she disappeared. James waded through his hoarder’s delight back to his laptop. Hesitantly, he reopened it. The name was still there, somehow more malicious than before. It knew James was struggling and relished it. It had cursed him and his laptop. It was dark magic just typing out each letter on his keyboard.

“Psst!”

James looked up to see a new pair of green eyes peering over the divider into his cubicle. He smiled.

Lily was his favorite colleague. She was a magician with design and the most reliable person in the office. She was also endlessly witty and relatable. Over lunch, they made fun of Skeeter and the magazine in general. Her opinion was like a breath of fresh air, which was hard to come by at their workplace.

They weren’t delusional; they knew they were far from the illustrious reporters who wrote about serious matters like gentrification or climate crises. Prophet was a glorified gossip column, and the only thing they delivered more than sensationalized “news” was mind-numbing fluff. Every issue was a piece of candy, and at the head of this diabetic empire was Skeeter, the shadiest Editor in Chief James and Lily had ever met.

James often thought it should be Lily behind that desk, not Skeeter with her suspicious habit of closing the blinds before meetings and recording every phone call. In her days as a reporter, she’d been notorious for misquoting for the sake of “elevating the stakes,” in her words.

“When’s your deadline?” Lily asked.

“Yesterday. I asked for an extension.”

Lily winced. “What’s so bad about writing the story? You’re a professional. Don’t let Regulus Black ruin your career.”

“What’s so bad?” James repeated incredulously. “I hate him. What he did to Sirius is unforgivable. He’s a terrible person. He has all the media fawning over him, but no one knows who he really is. He’s bad news. I refuse to write something positive about him, much less kiss his ass in this interview.”

“I don’t know. Have you seen his ass?” Lily grinned. “It’s all over those new Ralph Lauren ads.”

James gave her a look, and she wiped the smile from her face and schooled herself back to seriousness.

“Right. He’s an asshole. Bad news. Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” James agreed. He waved goodbye, resigning himself to Skeeter’s office.

“Good luck!” Lily called after him, and he gave her a thumbs-up before knocking on the Editor in Chief door.

He took one step into the room before stopping in his tracks.

Rita Skeeter, whose office was covered in multiple plasma TVs, had decided to pull up every photo of Regulus Black and flaunt it in James’ face. He was forced to reconcile with the Ralph Lauren ad that Lily had just been talking about. There was a tiny part of him that agreed with her. That ass.

And then he reminded himself that it was attached to one of the most despicable people on the planet. What would Sirius think? He tore his eyes away and cleared his throat.

Skeeter, who was biting a pencil seductively as she eyed a blown-up poster of Regulus’ face, which James pointedly avoided looking at, startled.

“Potter! I was just admiring our newest front cover.”

Skeeter giggled before swiveling in her chair and directing James to take a seat. James did so, and she plastered on a fake raspberry lipstick smile. What she asked next surprised him.

“How do you feel, James?”

James gawked at her. After all this time criticizing him and making fun of his workspace, his boss finally cared about his feelings? It was unthinkable.

“How do I feel?” he repeated, incredulous.

Skeeter closed her eyes. A long silence stretched through her office. James was unsure what was happening. Was she alright? She appeared to be meditating. He glanced out the windows, but predictably, the blinds were tightly shut. There would be no witnesses.

After a drawn-out moment, Skeeter opened her eyes again. “How do you feel when I’ve wasted your time like you’re wasting mine? Does it feel good? To have your time wasted? Is it relaxing? Enjoyable?”

James sagged with relief. For a moment, he thought there was something wrong with his boss. But no. She was just as unpleasant as usual.

“Potter, you are testing my patience. I wanted the draft on my desk yesterday. I was going to take a bubble bath and read all about Regulus Black’s hope and dreams, his fears. I was going to use my good lavender candles and take my time getting to know him. And you robbed me of that. You cost me my bubble bath date with Regulus Black.”

She looked at him with pure vitriol, and James shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I apologize, ma’am. If it makes you feel any better, I have an interview with him scheduled in two hours at a five-star hotel.”

“This interview should have happened last week. I’m tired of hearing your words, Potter. Blah blah blah blah blah. That’s what you sound like to me.” She paused dramatically, massaging her temples. “My God. You are so boring.” Then her head snapped up. “I want Black’s words. I heard he’s a man of few, which makes each one even more precious. Your job is to spoon-feed me his thoughts like caviar.”

James made a face of disgust, but Skeeter was distracted by Regulus’ profile on her screen to notice. Her nails curled and twitched as though she were squeezing an invisible stress ball.

“His story is unique. From teenage heartthrob to big-shot sensation. Very private lifestyle. A story like that is primed for exploitation.”

James choked. “Sorry?”

Skeeter spun back to him, a menacing gleam in her eye. “I want you to find the dirt on Black. What kind of secrets lie behind those bedroom eyes and that perfect jawline? Tonight, I want to read all about it from you. Bubble bath time is precious, Potter. Don’t waste it.”

It was now or never, James figured.

“I’m not sure I’m the best reporter for this story,” he declared. “I have a personal connection to Black.”

“Oh?” Skeeter raised an eyebrow; her mouth puckered in surprise.

“Uh, yes. You see, my roommate…he knew Black…well, they lived in the same…”

“Spit it out, Potter. I don’t care about your roommate. Have you ever even met the guy?”

“No.”

Skeeter smiled. “Then you have no personal connection. And you are the best reporter for the job. Your piece on Hollywood corruption last spring had our sales through the roof. A little ambitious but certainly held an audience captive. Give me another one of those. I’m counting on you.”

James swallowed. And then he made the mistake of looking behind Skeeter’s head and straight into Regulus Black’s famed bedroom eyes. A jolt went through him.

Regulus Black was a star in every sense. True to his namesake, he headlined in the night sky, cold and untouchable light years away. He was hot on the press, a media favorite. He shined under paparazzi flash on the red carpet. But perhaps his most compelling impression was on the silver screen.

“Flawless” was how many media outlets described him. And objectively, James could hardly disagree. With jet black hair falling in his eyes and cheekbones so sharp they could cut straight through the screen, Regulus was a work of art. He had perfectly soft lips that drove girls crazy. His eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, sparkled with a knowing allure.

But outside the movies and shows he starred in, Regulus Black was an inscrutable mystery. The media poured thousands of dollars in production in trying to solve him. He appeared infuriatingly serene in every shot, composed and unruffled in every interview. He rarely smiled, though his stunning features allowed him to get away with it. James had read every headline.

Regulus Black: Little King of Secrets. Idol or Imposter? Hollywood’s Biggest Closed Book.

But James wasn’t fooled by the calm exterior. He saw right through Regulus, and behind the actor’s mask was a heartless monster. Another pawn of the Black family that had exploited Sirius before casting him away. Regulus played the hero on-screen, but in real life he was a textbook villain.

And if James’ job was to expose this, then he was determined to succeed and more. Regulus Black deserved no mercy.

He arrived at the hotel early. He slipped into a dimly lit booth in the back of the restaurant and laid out his recorder and notepad on the fine off-white tablecloth. The waiter came by with a bottle of sparkling water, and after thanking him, James glanced at his watch. He had ten minutes. He slipped into the bathroom and dialed the first number that came up in his phone.

It rang a couple times before someone picked up.

“James?” a groggy voice answered.

“Moony?”

“What’s up?”

“Are you still in bed? It’s…” James checked his watch. “Three o’clock on a Tuesday.”

“Perks of being a freelance writer. And Padfoot doesn’t start work till eight.”

In the background, he could hear the rustle of sheets. “Is that James?”

Then, presently: “Prongs!” Sirius’ British accent was thick with sleep but cheery enough after having just woken up.

James smiled. “Sirius. Long night, I take it?”

“You have no idea.”

“Whore.”

“Oi! Don’t get all high and mighty on me. You wouldn’t last a day with our sleep schedule, Prongs. You go to bed before the best clubs open and wake up at an ungodly hour. Honestly. It’s no way for a young man in his twenties to live. You need to get out more.”

“I’m doing just fine, I promise.”

“When was your last shag?” Sirius demanded to know.

James titled his head up and studied the decorative ceiling, where a chandelier or two hung. The bathroom was disgustingly fancy: all black marble and gold trim. The wall was coated in a floor-to-ceiling mirror.

“I get around. I promise I’m still a sufficient slut,” he said, just as a toilet flushed in one of the stalls.

He cursed and quickly changed the subject.

“Listen. I’m about the do the interview that I told you about.”

There was a pause on the other end. Sirius was always tense when it came to talking about his movie star brother. It had been ten years since he’d been disowned and kicked out of his house after his own teenage scandals dealing with the pressures of being a child actor. It was James, his best friend, who he called. James’ parents, who loved Sirius, hadn’t hesitated in welcoming Sirius to their home like a son. Ten years since James had gotten Sirius as a brother.

Ten years since Sirius had last talked to Regulus.

“I thought you backed out of it.”

James sighed. “I tried to. But Skeeter insisted. Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to write anything positive about that asshole. They can pry good press from my cold dead hands.”

He nodded politely at the man who came out to wash his hands.

“Hm.” Sirius turned quiet and contemplative, which was unlike him.

“What are you thinking? Do you want me to say something to him?”

“I’m…indifferent,” Sirius decided. “Don’t mention me. Write a smashing article. But don’t trust anything he tells you.”

“It’s an interview, not an interrogation,” James said lightly. “I’m a professional.”

“Sometimes there’s not much of a difference on the receiving end,” Sirius said, and James could detect the lingering pain of being on the harsh end of the spotlight in his tone. His heart ached for his friend.

“Gotta go, Prongs,” Sirius said, back to his normal self. “I just had the epiphany that Remus Lupin is shirtless in my bed.”

“Right. Have fun with that.”

“Oh, I will.”

James chuckled and hung up. He checked his appearance in the mirror, trying to fix his messy hair before giving up like always. He adjusted his glasses and straightened his tie. Smoothed down the smart suit jacket and tucked his press pass behind his lapel.

What would a star like Regulus make of him?

It didn’t matter, he told himself. He didn’t need to impress anyone who had hurt Sirius.

He fired finger guns at his reflection, then strode out of the bathroom to go meet his enemy.

It was confirmed. Regulus Black was an asshole.

James waited ten, then twenty minutes past their schedule interview time. He folded his napkin into an origami elephant, then stole the one across from him to make a seal. He checked his watch. Thirty minutes late. Why did he expect anything different?

He was just pressing down the final crease when someone slid into the booth across from him. He quickly hid the seal underneath the tablecloth and beamed at his guest. Regulus was wearing paparazzi chic: a stylish black jacket, plain black baseball cap, expensive sunglasses, and a mask to completely obscure his features. James thought he was overdoing it. Surely no one looked that closely.

But when Regulus quickly removed his mask, James found himself temporarily…well, starstruck. It was a disaster. He was paralyzed in his seat, his jaw falling slightly slack and his eyes big as saucers as he drank in Regulus Black in person.

Camera did not do this man justice, to put it lightly.

Regulus wore an expression of annoyance, and if he weren’t so distracted, James would demand to know what the hell he was annoyed at. But he wore it so well. His brow wrinkled slightly and his mouth tugged into an adorable pout. Every perfect feature was so much more perfect up close. And yet there were a few imperfections: his nose and cheeks were rosy from the cold, his lips were chapped, and there was a small mole by the hinge of his jaw. Details that somehow made him all the more stunning.

And then Regulus took off his sunglasses, folded and tucked them in his pocket, and James was done for. ‘Bedroom eyes’ indeed. Dark and bright and clever, they roved around the room before settling on James.

Regulus arched an eyebrow, expectant.

With Herculean effort, James recovered from his paralysis and extended a hand across the table good-naturedly.

“Hi! James Potter from Prophet. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Black.”

“I don’t do handshakes,” Regulus said dismissively, regarding James’ hand with slight disgust.

Then he looked askance, as if James were already boring him, and James suddenly remembered who he was.

This was Sirius’ little brother, who had betrayed him. Who Sirius had protected all his childhood from the tyrannical reign of their mother, despite the stress of his notorious career as a child actor and struggle with addiction. Who, when Sirius finally stood up to his mother and refused to continue acting, chose their mother’s side. Who didn’t bat an eye as Sirius was kicked to the street.

James didn’t know how he slept at night.

And now the asshole was flagging down the waiter an ordering a salad and expensive wine, no doubt on James’ card, acting like he would rather be anywhere else. Sirius had told him his brother was callous, arrogant, and disdainful. Here he was, checking every box.

James plastered on a fake smile and waited for Regulus to finish ordering. He had been told that his acting skills were shit. Insincerity was not one of his strong suits. Normally, it wasn’t an issue. He liked almost everyone he met, so he rarely had to pretend to get along with someone. But in the first minutes after meeting Regulus Black, he realized cordiality would be a challenge.

“And do you have any napkins? Honestly. I thought this restaurant was Michelin-starred,” Regulus was saying, and underneath the tablecloth, James strangled his folded elephant.

The waiter apologized and rushed away to get more napkins. Regulus’ gaze landed on James.

“Let’s get straight to business. Do you mind if I record?”

Regulus shrugged, indifferent, and James switched on his recorder with what he was sure was a very obviously insincere smile. He started warming up to the content of the interview, complimenting Regulus on his latest blockbuster, where he played another stereotypical Byronic love interest. He skipped past the small talk, which he assumed Regulus would take no interest in.

Regulus proved to be an infuriating interview subject. He elaborated little and yielded no personal details in his answers. His answers, though direct and ideally bite-sized for lead quotes, were bland and contained no trace of his opinions. If he was capable of original thoughts, James couldn’t tell. Regulus appeared to be on autopilot the entire interview. It was endlessly frustrating trying to get anything out of him.

By the end of the interview, at which Regulus had picked distastefully at his salad and sent back the wine because it “wasn’t what he ordered,” James had nothing in his notes. He paused and frowned as he flipped through his notepad, searching for a lead into something more interesting. Regulus waited impatiently, tapping the tablecloth with ringed fingers.

“I admired your last character’s storyline,” he lied. “What did you make of the writer’s choice to kill your character off before the sequel?”

Regulus tipped his head back and made a face that meant he was internally rolling his eyes, James deducted. But his answer surprised him.

“I was glad,” Regulus declared. “I didn’t want to play Young-Soo again.”

“Why is that?” James asked, genuinely interested.

Regulus gestured lazily to his face. James blankly wondered what his prettiness had to do with anything before Regulus sighed and elaborated for the first time.

“I’m not Korean. They always want me to play a Young-Soo, or fight with Kung Fu, or else be the totally nerdy and incompetent Asian guy in the background. My mother is Chinese. My dad is French and British. But to the casting directors, I’m Young-Soo.”

James jumped on this. “How do you see your career inspiring young Asian actors to break out of these stereotypical roles?”

Then Regulus did something that James could not have predicted.

He reached over the table nimbly and clicked off the recorder. The red button went dull, and Regulus reached into his pocket for a packet of cigarettes. Sirius smoked, too. Regulus lit his cigarette just like his brother did, the glow reflected in his eyes.

James glanced around, expecting a waiter to tell Regulus there was no smoking, but nobody approached them.

Regulus exhaled, blowing his smoke rudely in James’ face and contemplating him.

“James Potter,” Regulus repeated, his name rolling off his tongue with delicious contempt. “What does my dear brother want to hear from me?”

James straightened up.

“What?”

This time, there was nothing internal about Regulus’ truly magnificent eye roll. “Sirius. My brother. Your best friend and roommate. What does he want?”

James stammered. “How do you know—”

“James Fleamont Potter…” Regulus drawled again, and James swallowed. “Born March 27, 1992 as the son of Euphemia and Fleamont, or Monty, Potter. Graduated valedictorian and class president from a public high school in Los Angeles. Received a degree in journalism from Columbia. Wrote an award-winning piece on corruption in Hollywood, then fell off into celebrity gossip and other dredges of media.”

Regulus fixed him with a hateful stare.

“Adopted brother of Sirius Black.”

James held his stare, equally incensed.

“You see, I’m inclined to some digging up of my own,” Regulus finished, and took another drag of his cigarette.

“Impressive. It’s almost like you Googled my Wikipedia page,” James replied flatly before leaning in and lowering his voice.

“Do you remember what your last words to Sirius were? You said, and I quote, ‘You’re dead to me.’ After Sirius had protected and cared for you in that cursed house all your life. You have no right to ask about him after you left him for dead on the street. You could have helped him to repay that debt, but you didn’t. You shouldn’t even be allowed to say his name.”

Regulus leaned forward as well so they were eye-to-eye. Distantly, James registered how good he smelled: like rum and cardamom, no doubt some extravagant cologne reserved for only the richest and most pretentious assholes of society.

“You’re a piss-poor journalist if that’s what you believe. You don’t even know the real story.”

“Please, enlighten me, then.”

Regulus scowled deeply. James realized how close they were to each other; all he had to do was lean forward a couple inches and they’d kiss.

As if he could read James’ mind, Regulus startled and settled back in his seat. He puffed angrily on his cigarette, and James smiled with smug satisfaction.

“Here’s a direct quote for you. Suck my cock,” Regulus stated mannerly, and then flung the napkin off his lap and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving his salad untouched and the bill up to James to pay.

James watched him go angrily. Then, slowly, he started to laugh, garnering funny looks from the waiter who came to buss the table. He had won the interview.

On the subway home and short walk to his apartment, James hummed with energy. He sprang effortlessly up the stairs to his door and burst in the apartment, itching to write down his story. He opened his briefcase on the kitchen counter and extracted his laptop.

Sirius, who was dressed in his catering uniform, came behind him and clapped his shoulder.

“How did it go?”

James smiled brightly. “You were right. Your brother is a world-class dick.”

“Exactly. Now go slander him,” Sirius laughed. “I’m off to work.”

James nodded, distractedly mumbling goodbye and focusing on his document. Hours flew by, though he didn’t register it. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the words pouring out of him. His writing was a flood of biblical proportions. He directed all his frustration and annoyance in the interview into the story, crafting every sentence with scathing deliberation.

Just before midnight, he sent his story off to Skeeter and sighed with relief. Remus, who had emerged from Sirius’ bedroom for a glass of water, eyed him in the refrigerator light.

“Good interview?” he asked.

“Horrible. The worst,” James declared with a wide grin.

“Interesting,” Remus nodded. “Can’t wait to read the article.”

“Oh, Moony, you’re not ready for it. I’m declaring war on Regulus Black.”

Remus arched an eyebrow. James, though, was busy daydreaming how Regulus’ perfect façade would crumble when he read what he’d written.

People saw James as a gold retriever of a friend: undyingly loyal and easygoing. But not many knew there was a dark side to this loyalty. James would do anything to protect those closest to him. And when it came to Sirius, his best friend, no mountain was too high or bar was too low.

James had decided he could be a cold-blooded assassin. His mark?

Regulus Black’s reputation.

Chapter Text

“I love it.”

James, who had been dreading Skeeter’s response, looked up in astonishment. Over her emerald glasses, Skeeter fixed him with a no-nonsense stare. She wasn’t kidding.

“You do?” he breathed in relief.

Skeeter licked her lips and began to read from the printed-out story on her desk.

“The Snake Behind the Screen: Shedding the Truth on Regulus Black.”

She peered over her glasses with a smirk and then proceeded to dramatically read out James’ scathing review of his meeting with Regulus, which highlighted the actor’s rudeness to the waiter and callous attitude. James, upon hearing his words read back to him, found himself in a strange position.

On one hand, he had never written an openly hostile story about another person. It made him queasy thinking how he had stooped lower than ever before just to get back at a person he’d just met. But then again, that person was Regulus Black, who deserved to be taken down a peg. He itched to expose Regulus for who he was, knowing the history behind his fame.

Regulus was Sirius’ replacement. Once Sirius’ public image suffered from scandals about his sexuality and addiction, their mother was quick to usher in Regulus: an antithesis to Sirius’ messy controversy. Regulus was the perfect teenage idol, entering the spotlight at fifteen and immediately becoming the darling of Hollywood. Where his brother was dramatic, outspoken, and rebellious, Regulus was whatever studios wanted him to be. He behaved well at interviews and was private in general.

When pressed about his brother, Regulus feigned pity.

“My brother is in the process of getting help. My family thanks everyone for their sympathy on this tragic matter,” he replied coolly to the press once, the night Sirius threw the remote and cracked the TV.

What the public did not know was that Sirius had been disowned and kicked out of his family at age sixteen. The Blacks did not make contact, much less help him. Instead, that was James’ family: his mother, who helped Sirius through rehab programs and counseling, who provided him with a home, and sheltered him from the media that still pried into his personal life even after he’d left the spotlight. His mother adopted Sirius when he was seventeen, and Sirius declared that the Potters were the only true family he’d known.

It was difficult for Sirius to watch his brother’s quick rise to fame while he struggled. Sirius felt replaced and betrayed but also worried for Regulus. He told James that the industry was a special type of poison. It stripped someone of agency and made superficial matters seem like life or death. It was no childhood, and no way for someone to live if they didn’t want that life.

Sirius and Regulus never had a choice about it. From the time they were toddlers, their mother was already networking with agents and pushing them into shows, greedy for fame and money. She had never once asked Sirius if acting was what he wanted to do. When he declared he didn’t want it, she couldn’t accept it.

“My entire career was just pretext to get her approval,” Sirius remembered. “I kept thinking that another starring role or award would make her proud. But she never looked at me like she was satisfied with me. She just yelled at me to do better. And then I realized I would never get her fucking love. She only loved the fame.”

Sirius had escaped and found real family. But James knew he often looked back. Who would Regulus turn into in that kind of life? Deep down, James sensed Sirius still cared for his little brother.

But perhaps the poison had gotten the best of Regulus. Whoever Sirius remembered as his little brother was gone, replaced with their mother’s puppet. And James didn’t feel bad about writing badly about Regulus. He was a bad person. Why should he have to pretend otherwise to humor the media?

“This was not what I was expecting from you, Potter,” Skeeter declared once she had finished reading the article. “You usually go the more…agreeable route. But I like this new barbed side of you. It’s sharp. Mean. Refreshing. The press will have a field day with this. Who knew Regulus Black was such an asshole?”

James smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I love it. Exploit his story. That’s what I want to see.”

James’ smile faltered, but Skeeter was already shooing him out of her office and making phone calls about her newest scoop on Regulus Black.

“Defamation, baby!”

Sirius smirked at his table of friends. Though it had been years since he had last acted, Sirius still knew how to effortlessly captivate an audience. They had a real-life retired movie star walking among them, and in his black leather jacket and rocker hairstyle, Sirius exuded star energy. Tonight, in a dingy Thai restaurant in Crown Heights, they celebrated the success of James’ article and the impending doom of Regulus Black.

“I’d like to dedicate this toast to James for doing God’s work: exposing my little brother as the snake that he is. It’s about time you started participating in slander, Prongs. I mean, for God’s sake, you’re a reporter.”

“To James!” Lily called out, and they all raised their glasses.

James smile at all his friends. In addition to Sirius, Lily, and Remus, their friend group was a circle of various media zealots at different stages of their careers. There was Mary, an aspiring singer writing her first album. Peter, James’ oldest friend and neighbor, was a paparazzi. And then there was Marlene, who was already a celebrated model and influencer who had graced the cover of several fashion magazines. They were all ambitious and incredibly talented people, James thought. He was lucky for their company. Their connections weren’t a bad perk, either.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and put an arm around Remus, who sat beside him.

“Forgive and forget, they say. Well, I say fuck that. I’m a world-class bitch, and I wouldn’t know forgiveness if it fucked me in the face,” Sirius declared in his usual dramatic fashion.

“Eloquent as always, Padfoot,” Remus murmured beside him.  

Mary sighed with a nostalgic smile. “I used to worship Regulus. Before I met you, Sirius, of course. I had posters of him all over my room. I even had a little fan club going.”

Marlene choked on her drink and slammed the glass down. “You did not.”

“I did. Mrs. Mary Black, I imagined. Thank God I snapped out of it.”

“That can still be arranged,” Sirius smirked. “There’s a perfectly good Black right here.”

“I’m Black enough already, thank you. Plus, lavender isn’t my color.”

“Fine. Looks like you’re stuck with me, Moony.”

“Please Mary, you can have him,” Remus replied, and to the amusement of everyone else, Sirius shoved him with a badly hidden grin on his face.

“I’ve been doing some research online, and Regulus hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. Some rumors are saying he’s queer,” Lily announced.

They looked at Sirius, who just laughed. “He’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Even if he were, our mother wouldn’t let him be. So, if he’s still under her control, which he most definitely is, he has no choice but to be straight as a pole.”

James grimaced into his beer. Every detail he learned about Sirius’ mother made him hate her a little more.

“While we’re on the subject, I met him once,” Peter piped up.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, turning to Peter with interest. “Oh?”

“Just a glimpse. Red carpet event where I was a pap. The reporter next to me was asking him a question, and…”

Peter turned a deep shade of red, and they all leaned forward.

“I was trying to get a better angle, and I stepped on his foot.”

They winced.

“He looked at me like he was going to murder me, but then I think he remembered how many cameras were around. He played it cool, but I think otherwise, it would’ve been a crime scene.”

“Good on you, Wormtail,” Sirius said. Then he turned to James. “That’s what you must do. Step on his toes. Metaphorically, literally, I don’t care.”

James saluted Sirius.

“Enough of that. Let’s talk about something else,” Lily declared.

“Right. The rest of us have archnemeses of our own, you know. You won’t believe what Dorcas Meadowes said about me on Twitter the other day…” Marlene said, and they all groaned.

The online feud between Marlene and one of her fellow supermodels, Dorcas Meadowes, had been all they’d heard about for weeks.

“Why can’t women just support each other in public media? Why must they always be pitted against each other and forced to compete?” Lily asked.

“Lily, I wholeheartedly agree with you. It just happens that this skank is worth me losing my feminist principles for because she is such an astronomical bitch. Let me show you.”

Marlene pulled out her phone and opened it, where it was already on Dorcas’ profile. James listened to his friends, but in the back of his head, he was already forming a plan based on what Peter said. Step on his toes.

Two weeks later, by Peter’s grace, he was standing on the sidelines of a red-carpet event with the paparazzi. In that time, his mildly unfavorable article had opened the floodgates of a slew of bad press about Regulus. The tabloids loved the opportunity to seize on any suspected faults, and James had given them the green light.

Regulus “Brat” Black doesn’t just treat waiters badly. According to insiders, he’s a nightmare to work with, too.

Media Darling or Demon? How Regulus Black behaves behind the scenes. Spoiler: it isn’t pretty.

Nepo-Bro: Did Regulus Black steal the spotlight from older brother and child actor Sirius Black?

The stories were bad journalism with little evidence and much speculation, but they still did the job. The last one especially neared the truth of Regulus’ story, and though Sirius refused to talk to the media, he enjoyed seeing his brother called out.

Despite these victories, there were a few that went in a direction James hadn’t anticipated.

Is Hollywood’s Heartthrob Closeted? 5 Reasons Regulus Black Might Be Gay.

The press had also jumped to obnoxious speculation about Regulus’ sexuality. Lily had predicted this. James was annoyed with his fellow media outlets. Why couldn’t they leave private matters alone? He loved his profession, but sometimes he hated the things that became of it.

Regulus had dated a few actresses and models, though all relationships were brief and rumored to be publicity stunts more than anything. For many, his bachelor lifestyle only increased his allure. Everyone held their breath to see who would attain the most unattainable, desired man of the day.

And there he was.

Among the celebrities milling about on the red carpet came Regulus, stepping out of a limo dressed in a sharp tuxedo. Annoyingly breathtaking. Reporters clamored for his attention.

But under the flash of cameras, Regulus’ eyes met James’. And then he was walking in his direction, despite paparazzi reaching for him and calling him over to them. Regulus ignored them all, apparently on a mission. Determination flashed in his eyes. James wondered what he was doing. And then he realized Regulus was coming straight to him.

Regulus stopped right in front of him, and next to him, Peter started snapping as many photos as possible. James’ brain sputtered to catch up.

“Regulus Black, what is your response to the rumors calling you hard to work with?” he blurted.

Regulus looked extremely bored as he leaned in slightly to James’ microphone, his hands in his pockets.

“I encourage them to ask my colleagues what they think. Check your sources before you assume something.”

“What about your first colleague and mentor, your brother Sirius? What does he think about you?”

The question had caught him off guard. Regulus froze; his eyes fixed on James. A flurry of camera flashes shimmered around them, and James raised his eyebrow. Well?

Then Regulus produced a rare, lazy smile, and James’ heart skipped a beat. It didn’t matter that it was malicious and insincere. His smile was lethally beautiful. Nearly painful to look at.

“My brother and I are on great terms. I would say, ‘ask him,’ but he stepped out of the spotlight a few years ago for privacy.”

And with that, Regulus swept away and posed for the cameras as James glared at his back.

Liar.

While the celebrities were inside, James camped out with Peter in a back alley as they waited for the event to be over so they could escort the celebrities back to their limos with a barrage of camera flashes. He and Peter played cards with a crew of cameramen in the back of a van. He was losing badly.

“Bullshit,” Peter announced, to James’ dismay.

He picked up a stack of cards from the discard, and the ring of cameramen laughed at him.

“Why are you such a bad liar, Potter?” one asked him.

James shook his head with a smile. “Maybe you guys are just excellent observers of character.”

“Every time he lies, his lips twitch like he’s trying to hold in a laugh,” Peter announced. “A six-year-old could figure it out.”

“Right. I’m going to take a break,” he announced, and slipped out the back of the van.

He was going to set off in the alley to look for a bathroom, but instead, he was distracted by a figure smoking by a fire escape door. They wore sunglasses though it was night, and an entire tuxedo…fuck. It was Regulus.

James found his feet moving before he had formed a coherent thought. Regulus was leaning against the wall, head tilted up with the night sky reflected in his sunglasses, the cigarette poised artfully between his lips.

“Bright out, isn’t it?”

Regulus looked sharply at James as he approached and joined him at the fire escape.

“What are you doing out here?” James asked.

“By the looks of it, I’m about to get murdered.”

James chuckled. “There’s an entire van of paparazzi who’d love to get that on camera.”

“Brilliant.”

They fell into a tense, slightly awkward silence. Regulus continued smoking, and James, having abandoned his search for a bathroom for a much more interesting encounter, glanced over at the movie star beside him occasionally, like he couldn’t help it. Eventually, this seemed to bother Regulus.

“Do you need something, Potter? I’m not giving you an interview after the last one. Thanks for that question on the red carpet, by the way.”

Regulus’ voice was laced with sarcasm, and James bristled.

“That was a softball question. I have much harder questions for you, if you want to play that game.”

To his surprise, Regulus dropped his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, and turned to face James fully with a placid expression. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Hm?”

“Ask me your hard questions. See if I answer. Off the record, of course.”

James studied Regulus for a beat. He was infuriatingly unreadable. So he nodded and hoped for the best.

“Of course. Ready?”

Underneath his sunglasses, Regulus rolled his eyes. James was used to it by now.

“Are you still in touch with your mother?”

“Not as often as she’d like.”

“Why not?”

“Next question.”

James thought fast. “Do you miss your brother?”

“No.”

It was a very definite no, James noted. “Did you want to be an actor?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Regulus shrugged. “I wanted what Sirius had.”

James paused and frowned. When he didn’t ask him another question, Regulus tilted his head, curious.

“Learning things you don’t like, Potter? Why? You clearly decided I was a bad person from that first interview.”

James shook his head. “You are a bad person.”

Regulus stepped closer. His polished leather shoes were toe to toe with James’ worn sneakers. Being taller, James had to look down and saw his reflection in Regulus’ sunglasses. Then his gaze dropped, focusing on Regulus’ slightly chapped lips and the crystallized puffs of breath in the February air. Despite the chill, James felt hot.

“What do you want?” he asked, no more than a whisper.

That was the question that jerked Regulus away, a pretty scowl on his face. James blinked.

“Fuck off, Potter,” Regulus responded, and dove back inside.

A few nights later, James enlisted Sirius and Mary to take him out.

“It’s been too long,” they agreed, before downing a final shot and herding James into the back of a taxi.

Sirius and Mary were their designated party gods. Between the two of them, they’d partied through all of New York City. Before James had decided to focus more on his reporting, he had gone out nearly every night with them, sometimes with Marlene and Peter, and Lily and Remus, if they could persuade them. Tonight, they took him to an exclusive rooftop club in Manhattan, both determined to be his wingman or woman.

“I’ve got your back for the girls,” Mary declared, fixing his shirt so it was unbuttoned halfway down and mussing up his hair.

“And I’ll assist you with the blokes,” Sirius added, slinging his arm over James’ shoulder.

James appreciated the help, though he wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. He just wanted a few hours to take his mind of his work and, sure, Regulus. The other man had been on his nerves all week, and he hadn’t even seen him.

He and Mary took turns flirting with the bartender for free drinks and before long, they were all considerably tipsy. Around midnight he was dancing between Mary and Sirius in the middle of the dance floor, the rooftop lit up in magenta and cyan, when he looked up to see stars. And instead, in a balcony above, he saw a particular star in general.

Regulus Black was in one of the VIP sections above, leaning on the glass railing and looking straight at James. When James noticed him, he stood still, staring up at Regulus. The crowd jostled him, but he stayed focused on Regulus’ venomous glare.

Regulus held his stare for a moment and then disappeared from the railing. He was done with James.

Fuck that.

Before he knew what he was doing, James was maneuvering through the dance floor away from his friends and climbing the stairs to the VIP section. He didn’t really have a plan: get to the door and demand to see Regulus? What if he turned him away? Knowing Regulus, he would be turned away and likely kicked out of the club for good measure.

Luckily, he ran into a friendly someone on the way.

“Kingsley!” he crowed, before wrestling the other man in an overly affectionate hug.

“James! What’s up, my man?”

Kingsley was one of his college friends and closest contacts in the industry. He was an actor who was now on Broadway. It turned out that he was also heading to the VIP lounge, which he had access to, unlike James. He patted James on the back and led him into the room.

Inside, James recognized a lot of people both from personal connections and because they were on magazines, screens, and everything in between. He got caught up in conversation with Emmeline Vance, one of Marlene’s supermodel friends, and then ran into Fabian Prewett, another actor (and past hookup).

A distinct chill ran down his spine. He peeked behind Fabian to see Regulus glaring his way from a seat in the corner. He waved, and Regulus’ face soured instantly before looking away.

James excused himself before making his way confidently over to the corner. He noticed Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene’s supermodel archnemesis, sitting on Regulus’ right. And on his left was Barty Crouch Jr., another young, hot actor known for playing “bad-boy” stereotypes on teen shows. Finally, there was Evan Rosier, who wasn’t quite as famous as the others but was a promising director and producer, and wealthy enough to buy his way anywhere.

“Mind if I join?” James asked, sliding into a seat before waiting for the answer.

Regulus scowled in his direction, which was an obvious no. James just grinned.

“Who the fuck are you?” Crouch asked, tearing James’ eyes away from Regulus.

“James Potter. Nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand to Crouch, who blatantly ignored it. Instead, Crouch bent over the glass coffee table. James realized with apprehension that in his tactless entrance, he had completely missed the fine white lines on the table. He shifted in his seat. Was Regulus succumbing to the same addictions as Sirius had? Were the pressures finally getting to him? Sirius would be devastated.

Crouch snorted the powder and threw his head back, blinking.

“I thought this was a pap-free place,” Rosier muttered next to James.

“I’m off duty. Plus, I’m not a pap; I’m a reporter,” James promised.

“Like that makes it any better.”

James looked up to see Dorcas eyeing him with disgust, her legs crossed and red-bottomed heels bouncing to the music. A cigarette perched artfully between her fingers, coated in her plum lipstick. James decided that he did not like Regulus’ friends very much. He certainly hadn’t made a good first impression, but neither had they.

Crouch squinted at him. “Hey. Aren’t you the reporter that keeps fucking harassing Reg?”

“He’s not harassing me. He’s just being very fucking annoying,” Regulus said. James watched as he plucked the cigarette from Dorcas’ fingers and took a drag. “What are you doing here, Potter? You’re clearly not welcome.”

James forced on his brightest smile. “I came to apologize.”

Regulus quirked an eyebrow.

“For the bad press you’ve been getting. I can’t help but feel it’s partially my fault.”

“It is your fault,” Regulus informed him bluntly.

James was about to respond when he noticed Rosier narrowing his eyes at him.

“I could pay to have you dead in a ditch in less than an hour,” Rosier told him. “And your little reporter friends would never get to the bottom of it.”

“That’s thrilling, truly,” James replied. “But first, it’s Black’s turn. I want an apology.”

Everyone turned to Regulus, who exhaled smoke like an angry dragon.

“What.” His voice was flat and icy, a warning that James took no heed of.

“An apology. For acting so rudely at the interview. And lying on the red carpet today. I think we all know you aren’t on good terms with Sirius. Even now, you’re hiding behind his image to protect yourself.”

A few long, drawn-out moments ticked by where Regulus stared daggers at James. If looks could kill, James reckoned Regulus was trying his very best at first-degree murder. Finally, Regulus stubbed out the cigarette in a crystal ash tray and stood.

“I’ll escort Potter out,” he announced, before indicating for James to follow him.

James waved to the unfriendly people still sitting and got up. He had to jog slightly to keep up with Regulus. Fabian called after him, but he waved him politely away. He kept his eyes on the back of Regulus’ head as he coolly led him out of the VIP lounge.

They left and turned sharply into a hallway. Tipsy as he was, James knew it wasn’t the way to the main floor. He was about to point this out to Regulus when the actor abruptly turned around and shoved him into a bathroom.

James stumbled into the most luxurious public bathroom he’d ever been in, but before he had time to admire his surroundings, Regulus’ hands reached out and pushed him against the wall.

“What do you want, Potter?” Regulus spat.

James’ mind went a little hazy at the edges. Heat coursed through him before he sternly reminded himself this wasn’t that kind of encounter. Regulus appeared to be fuming in front of him.

Finally, James had cracked that impenetrable actor’s mask. Regulus was no longer indifferent to him. He hated him. James wanted to celebrate.

“What do I want?” he repeated dumbly, a big smile etching its way on his face.

He was about to blurt out something extremely off topic when Regulus interrupted, stabbing a finger at James’ chest.

“You established that you have blackmail. What do I have to do to keep your mouth shut?”

“Blackmail?”

Regulus scoffed. “What Sirius told you. Was this his idea? Does he want hush money? Is he really doing that poorly?”

If James had less drinks that night, he might’ve noted the worry in Regulus’ tone when he asked after Sirius. In fact, he was just on the cusp of registering it when Regulus distracted him again.

“Wait. What did Sirius tell you exactly?”

James blinked.

Sirius had told him the basic facts of the story, sure. But most details Sirius refused to speak about. Whatever Regulus was referring to, James had no idea. He had no blackmail. But somehow, Regulus believed he did.

So he shrugged, thinking quickly. “A reporter never leaks their information.”

Regulus narrowed his pretty, pretty eyes. “I’m not above murder, Potter.”

“That’ll sound great on tape.”

Regulus’ eyes widened comically. “Are you wearing a wire?” he demanded, and before James answered, palmed James’ chest searching for the supposed microphone. Thank Mary for unbuttoning his shirt a few extra buttons, allowing Regulus’ slender fingers to skate across his skin.

James’ reaction to being touched by Regulus was completely unprofessional. He told himself it had been too long since he’d had someone touch his chest. That was the reason his insides fluttered, and why a heated shock went through him. None other.

“That was a joke,” James hissed, slapping Regulus’ hand away. “Why are you feeling me up?”

“You’re not funny. Never joke with me again.”

“Is that a joke?”

Regulus took a step back, and James nearly fell forward. He hadn’t realized how close they were. On accident, his gaze fell to Regulus’ lips. The alcohol swirled in his head. What if he…?

“Don’t do it,” Regulus said, and James startled. “Whatever dirt you have, don’t take it to print. If you do, I’ll destroy your career faster than you can say sabotage.”

What dirt do I have on you? James almost asked, before he wisely shut his mouth. He was gleeful with this new information. What was Regulus so panicked about leaking to the press?

Instead, he just nodded. Regulus took another step back, satisfied. He smoothed down his clothes and ran a hand through his hair.

“Good. Now fuck off, Potter.”

Then he was gone, leaving James alone in the bathroom.

James wandered downstairs and found Sirius and Mary by the bar. When they asked him where he went, he shook his head and promised he’d tell them later. First, he needed to sort out that encounter with Regulus, which had stirred up a myriad of confusing emotions.

In the meantime, he started talking to a girl, who giggled at everything he said and nodded eagerly when he asked her to dance. On the dance floor, he tried to get Regulus Black out of his mind.

Manipulative, arrogant snake…

The girl tried to say something to him, and he stooped to hear her. She kissed him. He closed his eyes and tried to forget himself in the kiss. But as he wrapped his arms around the girl and pulled her to him, he couldn’t help but glance up at the balcony.

And there was Regulus Black, presiding aristocratically over the dance floor, a crystal tumbler in his hand and one braced on the glass railing. He was looking down at James.

James deepened the kiss without taking his eyes off Regulus. His dark, starry eyes pierced the sweltering nightclub air. He held James’ stare for a beat longer than necessary, then glanced away, uninterested.

His contacts. The next morning at work, James could not get in touch with any of his celebrity contacts. There were no follow-ups or interviews. He spent his lunch hour panicking in the mayhem of his cubicle, calling and getting dial tones. No one would answer him.

He had a meeting with Dorcas Meadowes, during which he was hoping to clear up the air on behalf of Marlene, which had predictably been canceled. He wasn’t surprised, after making a very unimpressive first impression at the club, but he still sent her a note. To his curiosity, she wrote back almost immediately.

Maybe you’d have better luck keeping your contacts if you treated celebrities better, she wrote.

James could only stare at his screen.

Regulus was behind this.

He’d somehow bribed all his fellow celebrities to ignore James. Why? To spite James.

James spun in his chair, gazing out his window in contemplation. And because the universe was decidedly against him that day, he noticed a giant billboard had been installed across from his window of Regulus’ Ralph Lauren ad. Regulus smirked beautifully from across the street.

Look what you made me do, he seemed to taunt.

Despite himself, James started to laugh.

Lily peeked over the divider.

“You poor thing. You’ve finally cracked,” she observed.

James shook his head. “I just realized something.”

“What? You’re scaring me. Spit it out.”

James chuckled.

“I kind of like this bastard,” he admitted, then sobered immediately, the smile wiped from his face.

What was he saying? Regulus was as much of an asshole as ever. He was ruining James’ career as promised. And yet, James found something exhilarating in the thrill of their back and forth. It was a high he couldn’t help but chase.

Lily wilted. “Oh no. You’re fucked.”

James nodded solemnly. “I’m fucked.”

Chapter Text

James woke up with a stranger in his bed and a massive problem on his mind.

Well, most of it wasn’t a problem. It was a gift. Apparently, he had dirt on Regulus Black. Something major enough to be treated as blackmail.

James had never thought of himself as the kind of reporter capable of blackmail, but here he was. Blackmailing Hollywood heartthrob Regulus Black.

Regulus had offered money, and when James didn’t take him up, he took James’ contacts away the next day as some sort of warning. If James didn’t know better, he’d say Regulus was panicking. James had struck a nerve. He felt quite accomplished.

If only he could figure out what he knew. He might be able to blackmail Regulus honestly.

What he wanted to get out of said blackmail was a mystery to him.

Could he ask Regulus to expose his family for the mistreatment of Sirius? Finally shed light on Sirius’ side of the story, without Sirius having to get involved? And apologize to Sirius?

The problem was, James didn’t know what he wanted. He was totally clueless about what he was doing. On the bright side, despite his famed inability to lie, he had duped an acclaimed actor. His friends would never believe it.

But that wasn’t his only problem. Lately, he had fallen victim to constant visions of Regulus Black.

Why did he have to be so hot?

Against his will, his brain had decided to devote a steady stream of conscious to his enemy. He couldn’t seem to think of anything else besides Regulus, whose name headlined in his mind like it was the only thing worth thinking about.

He found himself watching old interviews of Regulus, chuckling at the jokes he made before pausing and forcing himself to click out of the browser. At work, he often zoned out staring across the street at Regulus’ ass, his thoughts absently veering towards the inappropriate.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, he told himself. Half the planet seemed to worship Regulus’ movie star looks. He was objectively insanely attractive. James was hardly an exception among the population of who happened to like men. It would be rarer if he hadn’t noticed that Regulus was gorgeous.

James would not admit this. Especially not to Sirius, since he valued having all his appendages. However, Lily knew. She often had to pop periodically over the divider to snap James out of his daze and make him get back to work. There was no point in keeping anything from her. She said with a smirk she had predicted James’ sudden infatuation a while ago.

But Sirius could not know, under any circumstances. He was so touchy about his family; he’d have a meltdown if he knew what James really thought about Regulus. Even if James still considered Regulus an asshole. But apparently, his cock did not care. It was a betrayal to Sirius. And because he was such a bad liar, James’ only option was to stop thinking about Regulus.

Hence the hookups.

In the past two weeks, James had reclaimed the slut reputation he’d held throughout college and his early twenties. In every stranger with jet black hair and sharp, clever eyes, he tried to push away the images of Regulus that flashed across his mind like paparazzi. But inevitably, when it mattered, all he saw were the midnight-dark eyes that had watched him from the balcony at the club.

Now, James turned to the man passed out in his bed, who was a dead ringer for a Regulus Black lookalike. Still, there was something missing. This man was beautiful, but he was only a substitute for the real thing. James felt torn with guilt. People deserved better from their partner, even if it was only for a night.

He got up and made breakfast, mulling over his problems as he fried eggs. The man emerged from his bedroom already dressed and they had a quick and amicable goodbye. Sirius entered the kitchen just as James walked him out the door.

“That one looked just like me. I think you have something you need to confess, Prongs,” Sirius teased, eating a piece of toast he’d stolen from James’ plate as he leaned against the counter.

James ducked his head to hide his flush.

This was a disaster.

“I have a big announcement,” Skeeter declared, rubbing her belly.

In the seat next to him, Lily made a noise of surprise. “Congratulations, Rita!”

She shot James a look meaning: she’ll make a terrible mother.

Skeeter frowned at Lily, then barked a laugh. “Oh, God, I’m not pregnant. I have indigestion. No. That’s not the news. The news…is that Regulus Black agreed to an exclusive feature and photoshoot for Prophet.”

Skeeter smiled like had just announced a divine savior had touched ground, and James and Lily exchanged an alarmed look.

“But what about the article I posted about him? He hated that. What does he want to do with us?” James asked.

Skeeter snapped her fingers and pointed an acrylic tangerine talon at James. “That, everybody. That is a perfect example of the kind of stupid questions not to ask.”

The entire conference room nodded and scribbled down notes, including Lily. James shot her a look, and she shrugged. Skeeter presided at the front of the room in front of a large TV where she’d put up Regulus’ headshot. Though he’d seen it many times and a few times in person, James’ mouth went dry at the sight of Regulus’ pensive expressive. Regulus somehow managed to make grimaces obscenely sexy.

James had been the subject of that look a couple times now. He had been close enough to brush away the fringe of hair from Regulus’ forehead. He had been inches away from those soft lips.

“Potter!”

Lily nudged him, and James snapped out of his trance. He found the conference room staring at him, and Skeeter waiting expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was…wondering if I locked my door today.”

His tone faltered at the lie, and he winced. Beside him, Lily shook her head hopelessly.

“How riveting. Maybe you should go home and check, and meanwhile I’ll task Severus with writing the feature.”

James’ eyes cut across the table at his sallow-faced workplace nemesis, who regarded him with loathing. He and Snape were always vying for the same interviews. However, it was James who got the story first. It wasn’t James’ fault that he was more of a people person than Snape, who was notoriously surly. As a result, Snape hated his guts. James returned the favor. Like most people, he found Snape utterly dislikeable.

“Nope. No need. I can do it.”

Skeeter smiled. Under the table, Lily kicked James’ shin. He looked at her, and she made a face at him.

You’re useless when it comes to him, her drawn eyebrows communicated.

He put on a smile and gave her a thumbs up. I got this. Don’t worry.

Lily pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling, as if calling upon some higher deity to help him. James clicked his pen and started bouncing his leg anxiously under the table. Another interview with Regulus, who hated him. Who he was mildly attracted to. Who he was supposedly blackmailing.

What could go wrong?

Sirius sat on the couch in uncharacteristic silence. James was beginning to worry. It was a record time for Sirius having nothing to say. James looked to Remus for help, who shrugged. He glanced back at Sirius. His friend had appeared to shut down for a minute, wearing an expressionless countenance eerily like Regulus. James was scared.

Finally, Sirius spoke. “This was his idea?” he asked.

“His publicist’s, yes,” Lily piped up from the other end of the couch, where she was painting her nails cherry red.

“And James is going to interview him?”

“I am.”

Sirius made a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach. “What does he want with James? Is this about that article? Is he trying to get revenge? He almost never does these kinds of features. They’re always some kind of end game involved.”

“I wouldn’t look too much into it, Sirius. Regulus likely just wants to be on the cover of another magazine,” Lily said.

“No, Lily,” Sirius said vehemently, and Lily looked up. “You don’t understand. My brother is a scheming bitch. He won’t agree to something unless he benefits in some way. He’s up to something. And I’m sure it has something to do with James.”

James’ stomach twisted. He didn’t like the sound of what Sirius was saying. Perhaps he needed to go into hiding. Leave the country for a few weeks. Lay low and hope everything fixed itself on its own. Maybe his crush would go away on its own, too.

Remus placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, and the tension instantly bled out of Sirius’ frame.

“Maybe it’s time to talk to him, love,” Remus said gently.

Sirius stood up abruptly, angry. “I don’t want anything to do with him. I haven’t wanted that in a long time. Quite the opposite, in fact. He has to come to me. If he has unfinished business, then that’s his problem. I’m done with my family’s drama and will not be dragged into it. And he will not target James just to get under my skin.”

With that, Sirius strode out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. James collapsed on the couch between Remus and Lily. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Is it my fault? Should I have let Snape do the interview?” he asked.

“No. He’s just sensitive about these things, you know. His family really fucked him up. Give him time,” Remus said, before getting his jacket to go after Sirius.

“Right…”

James was not convinced. He felt partially responsible for Sirius, as he had since they were kids.

He first met Sirius in middle school in Hollywood. With his mother working as a stylist, he often hung out on set after school and played with the child actors. This was how he met Sirius, the star of the show, who didn’t seem to care that he was just a stylist’s kid and not another actor. They hit it off instantly, and when Sirius left for London, James gave him his email and they stayed in touch.

From then on, every time Sirius was in LA, he met up with James. Later, Sirius’ mother let him go alone, and Sirius spent all his time at James’ house, where he charmed James’ parents.

“I wish I lived here,” Sirius one time said to him.

“I wish you lived here too,” James told him, and Sirius looked at him sadly, because back then, he believed he never would.

When James moved to New York, Sirius followed him. They were inseparable. James doubted he could ever function normally without Sirius in his life. He was the most important person in his life.

James wasn’t an idiot. He knew there were plenty of things Sirius kept from him. Sirius was under the wrong impression that there were certain things that would change how James saw him forever. Sirius felt guilt for things that happened, not because they had been his fault, but because for the simple act that had happened. No matter how James tried to assure him, Sirius kept these things close to his chest.

And James accepted that. He may never know everything about his best friend, but he hardly minded. That was just the way Sirius was. James had to protect his friend, even if that meant sometimes from himself.

James, on the other hand, wanted Sirius to know every private thought and experience he’d ever had. Things people would normally swear never to tell anyone. Things no one would expect two grown men to talk about. To be known completely was to be loved, in his opinion. Sirius was a living and breathing documentation of who James Potter was. Sirius knew intimately every nook and shadow of his mind, and because of this, he was his other half.

To keep his new crush from Sirius was unthinkable. If it were anyone else, he’d be boring Sirius with every horny detail. But it was James’ misfortune that his newest infatuation was none other than Sirius’ little brother, the person whose betrayal he’d never get over.

And worse, James sympathized with Sirius’ story. He had hated Regulus on behalf of Sirius. Fundamentally, he couldn’t understand how Regulus could treat his brother so coldly. To not even reach out to him.

A small part of him remembered Regulus’ words from the restaurant: You don’t even know the real story.

Had Sirius omitted a crucial detail about his and Regulus’ backstory? Between Regulus replacing him in the spotlight and their spiteful parting, it was likely there was something James was missing. He hadn’t been there, after all.

“Better that he’s gone for this next part,” Lily said, before switching on the TV.

James slumped in the couch as she pulled up every movie Regulus had starred in; their homework for the upcoming feature. And, if he were completely honest, an indulgent of his slight obsession.

James hadn’t seen Regulus’ movies. Out of solidarity with Sirius, their friend group had agreed not to see them, no matter how popular they were. It didn’t matter that they all knew Sirius went to see them on his own anyway because he couldn’t help his curiosity. They had made a pact against supporting Sirius’ family in any way.

But now Skeeter impressed upon them the importance of knowing their subject, and Lily and James broke the pact.

And James, to his shame, enjoyed it.

His eyes were glued to the screen every time Regulus appeared. He marveled at Regulus’ acting. He cried when Regulus cried and laughed when Regulus laughed. He wondered what it would take to hear that sound in real life.

And then, towards the middle of their third movie, James ran into a problem.

The sex scene.

Which required Regulus to be shirtless onscreen.

James was losing his mind.

“Rewind,” he told Lily.

Lily paused, her hand in a bowl of popcorn. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Lily did so, but instead of watching the TV, as James was committed to, she watched him. When the scene was over, she giggled.

“You’re drooling,” she observed.

“Oh my God, Lily. He’s so hot. How does he exist? How do I face him again?”

Lily laughed at him.

“Stop laughing. This is serious.”

“It’s Regulus, actually.”

James seized a pillow and screamed into it, to Lily’s entertainment.

“It’s not that racy of a scene! They don’t even show anything,” she cackled.

“Um.” James pushed up his glasses and gestured to the TV. “He’s shirtless!”

Lily shook her head with a smile. “You’re hopeless.”

“Don’t make fun of me. Now, rewind it again.”

“This is so weird. I feel like I’m watching a porno with you.”

“If he’s shirtless, it is a porno.”

“What’s a porno?”

James and Lily froze at the sound of Sirius’ voice from the front door. Quickly, they both scrambled for the remote to turn off the TV, upending the bowl of popcorn in the process. Sirius, apparently recovered from his recent tantrum, strode into the living room with Remus in tow just as Regulus’ lean torso vanished from the screen.

“What were you watching?” he asked Lily and James.

“Porn,” James blurted, to the mixed reactions of his friends.

The night before the feature at the magazine, James stationed himself at his desk determined to figure out Regulus Black. Moonlight streamed in his room, painting it in a silvery cast. He frowned at his laptop, scrolling through every tabloid and news scrap that mentioned Regulus in the past decade. What was Regulus hiding?

He could always just ask Sirius. Regulus had revealed that whatever he thought James was holding over his head, Sirius knew it. He assumed that Sirius had told something incriminating to James. He didn’t know how little Sirius spoke about his childhood. He probably imagined that James had mountains of dirt on him.

But that information was kept safe and secret by Sirius, who refused to share. All James knew was that their mother had been severe and cruel in her methods to make Sirius a star. She had emotionally and physically abused her children under the guise of training them for fame. James was sick thinking that she still existed somewhere in London, hiding in the shadowy townhouse that made Sirius shudder when he mentioned it, unremorseful of the damage she’d done.

The real villain was Sirius’ and Regulus’ mother.

James wondered how Regulus fared in that house after Sirius left. Did she learn from her mistakes?

She didn’t seem like the kind of person to change for the better.

Perhaps Regulus wasn’t who he needed to hate. For a long time, he had hated anyone in Sirius’ family for what they’d done to him. He’d seen Regulus as a bystander. But the more he thought about it, it was a more complicated situation than he’d originally thought.

He stared at Regulus’ image on his laptop. Had he been wrong? Outside his window, he searched the stars for Leo. He wanted to believe Regulus wasn’t the villain he’d always believed him to be. Then maybe his feelings weren’t so bad after all.

“James?”

He startled and turned around to see the girl in his bed squinting at him, her short raven hair mussed up in the back. He closed his laptop quickly, a stab of guilt running through him.

“Stop fussing with your tie!”

Tired of scolding James like a hyperactive kid, Lily took matters into her own hands by slapping his arm with a rolled-up magazine. He warded her off, before reexamining his appearance in the reflection of a soda can. His hair was too messy, like usual. Perhaps he should’ve tried gel today. Or a wig.

“Lily, I need you to run and buy me a toupee,” he said. “My hair is a disaster.”

Lily, exasperated, rolled her eyes. “If you don’t start acting like a professional, I swear, James Fleamont Potter, Regulus Black will never have the chance to murder you because I will beat him to it.”

James gasped. “You think he’s going to murder me? That’s what this feature is about? An opening to assassinate me in my office?”

Lily mimed strangling him and then pushed past him to go to the photo studio. James followed.

Their new photographer, an artsy girl mummified in an outfit consisting entirely of multipatterned layers, looked up from the camera. She was what Lily called a ‘free spirit,’ which was a passive aggressive way of saying she was an idiot. But her artistic vision was unparalleled, so Skeeter put up with her, no matter how much she tested the editor’s already short patience.

“Hi, Lily,” she murmured before squinted through the camera again.

“Hi, Pandora,” Lily smiled, a breath of fresh air compared to her previous frustration with James.

“When is he getting here?” James whisper-asked Lily.

Lily checked her phone. “Twenty minutes ago. He’s late.”

James rolled his eyes. “Of course he is.”

“He’s five minutes away. Traffic,” said Pandora, who was still testing out her camera.

James gawked at her. “Are you psychic?”

She looked like the psychic kind. She had all kinds of jewelry and piercings, her slender hands tattooed and laden with rings. The camera was her third eye.

Pandora gave him a funny look. “I have his number. I asked him.”

“Oh.”

Lily shot him a look that begged him to calm down, and he retired to a chair in the corner to go over his notes before the interview. However, he found his mind drifting. He imagined Regulus texting people on his phone. Not going through an agent or reporter. His words, directly from him. Revolutionary. What was he like behind the scenes? Was he equally as uptight and arrogant? Or did he have a secret softness?

“Hey, Pandora,” he called out.

Pandora whirled around and snapped a photo of him in response. James posed belatedly, but she was already smiling at whatever horrible photo she had just taken. He brushed it off.

“Are you…uh…friends with Regulus? Since you have his number?”

Pandora let the camera hang from the strap around her neck and nodded.

“Yes. I met him in secondary school, before he started acting.”

“Oh.”

James bit his lip. Then: “What was he like in school?”

Pandora tilted her head and considered the question. “He was very sweet. He still is. Why do you ask?”

Before he could blurt out that he was enchanted by Regulus, Lily saved him and tapped Pandora’s shoulder. They began to coordinate design concepts. Lily tried to argue with Pandora, who smiled and delivered a vague response to everything, which only made Lily more frustrated. She gripped her tablet with white knuckles as Pandora twirled a braid around her finger.

James let his head fall back against the wall, lost in thought. Regulus was sweet, according to someone who had known him for years. Sweet. James thought of the impolite, irritable person he’d met in the restaurant and at the club.

Perhaps that was just an act, too.

He shook his head. Nah. Maybe Lily was right, and Pandora was delusional.

The doors to the studio opened, and Regulus walked in. James straightened up.

Impossibly, Regulus had gotten prettier in the time since James had last seen him. James squinted. He was wearing eyeliner. James was going to have a heart attack.

Regulus was going to kill him after all, and he didn’t even have to do anything but exist.

James stared as Lily and Pandora directed Regulus into pose after pose. He thought he might melt into the ground. And Regulus didn’t even look at him. It was like he didn’t exist. But James didn’t mind. He was captivated as the camera flashed, highlighting Regulus’ perfect jawline and collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Occasionally, a stylist stepped forward to fix Regulus’ hair or adjust his jacket, and James’ fingers twitched to do the same, unreasonably jealous of the stylist.

His eyes drifted lower, where a sliver of Regulus’ chest was visible under his shirt. His brain helpfully supplied images of the shirtless scene, which had haunted James’ dreams since.

When he realized what was going to happen, he stood up abruptly and sped walked out of the photo studio. He dove into the nearest bathroom and quickly splashed water on his face to calm himself down.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in front of him, where he looked wild-eyed and crazy. He pointed a finger at the mirror.

“Stop it. Get over it,” he told himself sternly.

He was still braced over the sink and coaching himself when the door swung open and Regulus sauntered in with a bored expression on his face. James watched him approach the sink next to him and start washing his hands.

“Stop staring, Potter,” Regulus told him. “It’s rude.”

“I decided what I’m blackmailing you for,” James blurted without thinking.

Regulus neatly wrung his hands in the sink and looked at James in the mirror. James continued to stare directly at him.

“Well?” Regulus pressed.

“I want your side of the story. The full thing, uncensored.”

Regulus visibly tensed, his face drained of color. “To take to the press?”

“No. I just want to know the true story. What happened in that house. Between you and Sirius. Why you two won’t talk to each other.”

Regulus pursed his lips, deliberating. After a long moment, his eyes finally slid over to James’.

“And I have your word you won’t publish anything?”

James glanced down and happened to notice that Regulus’ hands were trembling slightly. Without thinking, he reached forward and put his hands over his. At the contact, Regulus jerked away, a deep scowl on his face. James blinked.

“Sorry about that. But yes, you have my word.”

He stuck out his hand to seal the deal, and Regulus frowned.

“I don’t do handshakes,” he repeated. “But alright.”

Regulus, to James’ surprise, reached into James’ front pocket and pulled out his business card, which he always kept in his work jacket. He then fished a pen out and leaned over the counter to write something. He extended the card to James.

“This place and time. I’ll give you your story. Then we’re done.”

James took the card with a smile, and Regulus started to walk out of the bathroom.

“Wait!” he called out, and Regulus turned back with a look of annoyance.

“Why did you ask for this feature after the article I wrote?” he asked.

“It’s the stupid apology you wanted,” Regulus said, and left.

Their next interview went better than the first. Regulus cooperated with James, or maybe he was giddy from their second bathroom encounter (what was with Regulus and bathrooms? He wanted to ask but filed that away for another time). Then Regulus was gone, and he typed up the feature.

This time, he wrote everything with a sense of optimism. He threw in a few compliments in his article towards Regulus, which Lily immediately rewrote when he gave her his draft, declaring “Centerfold isn’t the place for a love confession, James.” He liked the story, which painted Regulus in a kind, only slightly horny, light.

Skeeter wrinkled her nose when she read it. “I thought it would be more of a bloodbath,” she said, before sighing. “But I suppose I can only expect so much from you. That’ll be all, Potter.”

Sirius was still suspicious about what Regulus wanted from the feature, and asked James a few questions about it.

“How did he look? Did he have a devious expression? Even for a moment? Out of the corner of your eye? Did you look away and then back quickly to catch him smirking and plotting? He’s an actor, James. You have to be faster next time.”

James lied by omission. But Sirius could hardly know the truth: that he was meeting Regulus in a few days’ time at a hotel to get his side of the story.

James didn’t even tell Lily. For the first time in his life, James had a secret.

But he had a new plan. When he heard Regulus’ story, he was going to use it for good. He was going to orchestrate the Black brothers’ reunion.

Chapter Text

James jaywalked through downtown Manhattan traffic in the pouring rain, drawing a chorus of angry honks from the vehicles as he jogged through their headlights. By the time he reached the hotel awning, his hair and clothes were soaked, and he left a trail of puddles wherever he walked.

He checked his watch. He was late. He imagined he had plenty of time, however, knowing how late Regulus tended to be.

He walked over to the bar and ordered a drink, ignoring the judgmental looks he attracted with his wet hair and clothes. Even if he were dry, he was still not dressed nice enough for this place, he realized. After work, he’d changed into a pair of jeans and a worn brown leather jacket, one of Sirius’ fashion experiments before he decided black was more his thing. His waterlogged sneakers dripped onto the shiny hardwood floors.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” a sharp voice asked him, and James startled to find Regulus sitting at the bar right next to him.

To avoid attention, Regulus wore a baseball cap and all-black clothes, his sunglasses completing the look. He scowled at James, who instantly melted.

“You’re on-time,” he observed.

“I was early. I’ve been waiting for you forever. Was there a lot of traffic in the Hudson? That’s where I’m assuming you were, considering you’re absolutely soaked?”

James grinned and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “There was a lot of traffic, actually. Thanks for asking.”

Regulus slid off his stool and grabbed James’ arm, tugging him away from the bar before James’ drink had arrived. “For fuck’s sake. You’re drawing far too much attention.”

“Hey, I ordered a strawberry daiquiri—”

“You’re a twenty-four-year-old man. No, you didn’t.”

James sighed and acquiesced to being dragged through the gilded hotel foyer by Regulus, trying and failing to deny the spark of heat in his stomach.

“It’s your fault for picking such a high-end hotel,” he grumbled as they reached the elevators. “I mean, if you wanted to avoid attention, there are normal places where you’d never find a well-known movie star. Perfectly inconspicuous.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.”

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Regulus let go of him. They leaned against the mirrored gold elevator wall as they climbed several stories. An awkward silence ensued, punctuated with the soft dings of the elevator. James tapped his foot. He couldn’t help but dart a few glances at Regulus, who looked completely impassive. He’d kill to know what was going through the other man’s head for once.

“You’re staring,” Regulus muttered without making eye contact.

James forced himself to look straight ahead, clearing his throat. He tried to be quiet.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Regulus glanced at him sharply. “That’s the idea of this, so. Yeah.”

“Not about your story. I want to ask if you do coke.”

Regulus peered at him over the top of his sunglasses. James got the impression he was judging him.

“You’re so unsubtle, Potter. I don’t have any.”

James shook his head and stammered. “No, I wasn’t asking—never mind. At the club, your friend Crouch did lines. You didn’t. Not that it’s my business. But do you, ever?”

Regulus studied him for a beat before he tilted his head back against the wall.

“No. Not after what happened to Sirius.”

James nodded. He’d suspected that. He was relieved, in a way. He knew Sirius would be, too, to know his brother wasn’t falling to his own vices.

In the ensuing silence, his eyes gravitated towards the profile of Regulus’ throat, lingering on the shape of his Adam’s apple. James imagined putting his lips right below his jaw, and working his way down—

“Potter. I can literally see you staring.”

James nodded, shaking himself out of it, and before Regulus could say anything else, the doors opened. James was quick to step out of the elevator, where the tension was so thick he felt he was choking on it.

Lily was right. He was useless when it came to Regulus. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it together. It was only a matter of time before he buckled under the intensity of Regulus’ prettiness and started begging on his knees.

But there was no way Regulus would ever like him in that way. First, and importantly, James was supposedly blackmailing him. That destroyed his chances right then and there. There was nothing sexy about blackmail (as far as he knew). And even if Regulus was able to forgive him, James remembered what Sirius had said.

Regulus couldn’t be queer. It was 2017; gay marriage hadn’t been legal in the US two years yet and in the UK for three. James shuddered to think of what people would say.

It was one thing to wish Regulus to be called out for betraying Sirius, but James would never think of exposing him to the media for his sexuality. There was no need to repeat history. Between the drugs, rebellion, and sexuality, the press had almost cost Sirius everything. James wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

He decided to personally make sure that never happened to Regulus. He’d do anything: blackmail a thousand other reporters, leak other information, even go to prison before anything like that got out about Regulus. He was sure Sirius felt the same way, despite his conflicted feelings about his brother. If Regulus was queer, they’d both shield him.

Was he?

Perhaps James was getting ahead of himself. A small, masochistic part of him desperately hoped he liked men, if that gave him even the slightest chance.

And then James was right back where he started. He had to stop this.

He was marching down the hallway before he remembered he didn’t know what room Regulus had paid for.

“This way, Potter.”

“Right.”

James trailed after Regulus, who gave him a funny look as he unlocked the door to room 1306. He watched Regulus go in and turn on the lights before heading in himself.

He reminded himself what he had to do. Listen to Regulus’ side of the story. Figure out what he had to do to fix whatever had happened between the Black brothers. And protect Regulus from the media.

He disappeared inside the room, and after darting a glance down both sides of the hall, Regulus slid a Do Not Disturb hanger on the knob and closed the door.

Regulus was ten when Sirius had his first big break. Every week while his mother and Sirius flew to LA to film the show which Sirius starred in, Regulus stayed in London alone. His father was busy working, and when he wasn’t at the office, he was in the study with a glass of brandy. Regulus knew to stay away.

He watched his brother on TV. He missed Sirius. Without him, their already haunted house was infinitely lonely. His mother instructed him not to call Sirius because he would distract him. She told him to focus on his schoolwork instead.

“When are you coming home?” he asked over the phone.

“This is your brother’s big break,” she snapped. “Be happy for him.”

Regulus tried to be. His brother was making their family proud with his talent. But when he looked at his brother on-screen, all he felt was the weight of the vast distance between them.

Their mother was a cruel woman. In their house, she often raised her hand against them or withheld food for disobeying her. She grilled Sirius on lines and locked him in his room if he messed up. Regulus witnessed her become more tyrannical as the stakes got higher. Sirius booked auditions, and she made him rehearse with her for hours on end, never satisfied with his performance.

When she was young, their mother had dreamed of being an actress herself. The truth was that she was a scary good actress. She often used her crocodile tears on Regulus, who was more naïve when it came to their mother’s acting. Sirius had always been able to see straight through her. He distrusted her too-sweet smiles because he knew that later, her mask would slip off, and it would be hell for all of them.

Regulus used to sit in the corner of her bedroom as she gazed at herself in her vanity and practiced lines from Sirius’ scripts in the mirror. She was a beautiful woman. Regulus didn’t know why she wasn’t already a famous starlet.

He told her this, thinking it was what she wanted to hear. He hoped she would smile at his flattery attempt. But instead, his mother narrowed her eyes and glared at him like he was to blame, because he was.

“I could have been, if it weren’t for your father. I left my parents in Guangzhou because I thought he could make me a star. But when I married him, I gave up everything. And then I had Sirius, and you, and my dreams were shattered. That’s what I do for you. I named you after stars because I could not be one. You’re alive and my dream is dead. Think of that next time you think you hate me.”

Then she turned back to her reflection with a graceful smile and practiced the lines she did not have in a perfect American accent.

Regulus’ problem was that he thought there was some good in his mother. There had to be a point at which she would finally be satisfied, and then she would shower them with the love she’d been withholding. He had seen it, when Sirius had mastered crying on demand.

“Yes,” she breathed, cradling Sirius’ tearstained face with awe. “Perfect, Sirius.”

She’d pulled Sirius into a hug then, and Regulus, who had been watching the scene from the sidelines, sat up and met Sirius’ eyes. A stroke of jealousy cut through him.

Why couldn’t that be him? Why was it always Sirius? Sirius, who was loud and dramatic, charming to adults and everything people wanted from a young star. Their mother had tried a few scenes with Regulus but decided he was too quiet and shy for the spotlight. She quickly focused all her efforts on her eldest son.

Sirius bore the brunt of her severity, but he also merited praise when he did something right. Every success reflected well on their mother. She loved what only Sirius could give her: her old dream in a new form.

That night, Regulus practiced Sirius’ lines in his room. He had memorized them by overhearing them, and then, in his own mirror, he tried imagining himself in Sirius’ shoes. It took a few tries, but eventually, he was able to reproduce the scene as Sirius had done it, complete with the twin tears rolling down his cheeks.

He smiled at his reflection. He would’ve run to his mother and done the scene for her, but she was already on a plan with Sirius to LA. He would just have to wait until they came back.

But when they did, there was a different problem. He came to the front door just as Sirius burst through it and ran up the stairs angrily without saying hello to his brother, opening his bedroom door and slamming it shut behind him. Regulus, curious, was about to go upstairs and knock, when their mother burst in, her face contorted with rage. She brushed past Regulus and flew up the stairs and banged on Sirius’ door.

“Don’t hide from me!” she screamed.

Regulus followed up the stairs and stared at the scene. Inside his room, Sirius turned on his radio full blast. The volume thumped, muffled.

“Mom?” Regulus asked.

“What?” she snarled, whirling on him. Her perfectly coiffed hair was sticking up in all directions, and her eyes flickered with a familiar fury.

“Your brother wants to ruin everything!” she shouted at him and then turned on her heel and stomped to her bedroom.

In her absence, Regulus went to his brother’s door and knocked softly. The music turned down. Regulus held his breath.

“Why didn’t you call?” Sirius asked on the other side of the door.

“What?” Regulus asked.

“I hated Hollywood. I was stuck with her all the time. You could have at least called.”

Regulus frowned. He was about to reply when their mother returned, this time with a key. She locked Sirius’ door from the outside, wearing a stony expression.

“We do not talk to traitors,” she instructed Regulus curtly. “When your brother stops acting like an ungrateful brat, he can join us.”

“I don’t want to be an actor! Stop forcing me to do this!” Sirius shouted from inside.

“You’re twelve years old! You don’t know what you want! That’s why I’m here. One day, Sirius, you will see everything I sacrificed for you to have the best life.”

“Bullshit! You only do things for yourself! This is the life you want! It’s not my fault you couldn’t do it!”

Their mother just stared hard at the door. “Traitor!” she screamed one last time, then grabbed Regulus’ shoulders and steered him firmly away from his brother’s door. Regulus looked back and heard the radio being turned on again inside his brother’s room.

Sirius didn’t want to be an actor? Regulus couldn’t figure it out. He had everything: talent, fame, their mother’s favoritism. If Regulus were in his place, he’d do anything to keep it.

In the hotel room, James leaned forward and frowned, processing the beginning of Regulus’ story. He’d known Sirius’ and Regulus’ mother was horrible, but something about hearing Regulus talk about her broke his hear all over again.

“That’s…I’m sorry,” he said.

Regulus, sitting in a chair opposite of him, shook his head. “Don’t. You haven’t heard the ending yet.”

Regulus drew a cigarette pack from his pocket, and James watched as he lit it. His face was unbothered, but his fingers trembled slightly. James’ heart tugged. He wanted nothing more than to cross the fancy hotel room and be able to comfort Regulus in his arms.

Instead, Regulus stood up and opened the balcony door to let in the chilly early March air. The plume of smoke was blue against the indigo night, and in the distance, the lights of Manhattan twinkled. But James’ eyes were glued onto Regulus, who shined in his own quietly remarkable way.

After a moment, Regulus glanced over at him with annoyance. “Are you going to leave or are you waiting for an invitation?” he asked, as if James’ continued presence irritated him. “We can’t be seen leaving together, obviously.”

“Oh. Sure. Um, can we do this again? If you still want to,” James spluttered, standing and gathering his damp coat.

“It’s not like it’s a date. But sure. Same time and place next week.”

James nodded, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, and when Regulus quirked an impatient eyebrow at him, he forced his legs to work and carry him out of the room.

He closed the door behind him and exhaled. He wondered what Regulus would do in the meantime. Did he need a minute before he left the hotel as well? Did it unsettle him, to recount his story?

As James left the hotel and stepped out into the freshly rained streets, he felt weighed down by the knowledge. In a way, when he’d hated Regulus just as Sirius had, it had been easier. Now that he knew Regulus and a little bit of his story, he felt torn.

Sirius had always insisted that Regulus was a sellout and their mother’s puppet. In Sirius’ eyes, he’d stolen the spotlight from him, and even though Sirius hadn’t wanted it anymore, it felt like a betrayal. Regulus had focused on fame instead of going to help his brother. And Sirius couldn’t forgive him for that.

James knew Sirius was a good person. He was his best friend. But he was beginning to think Sirius, by not knowing his brother’s story, had been wrong about him.

When he came home, the lights were off. Curious, James wandered down the hallway and pushed open the door to Sirius’ room. His friend was sitting by the open windowsill, smoking. James smiled to himself.

He’ left one moody Black brother for another.

“Can I bum one?” he asked.

Sirius looked up and grinned at the sight of James, who squeezed into the space across from him. He took out his pack and extended one to James, and smirked when James inevitably grimaced at the first puff.

“Fucking disgusting, man. I don’t know why you keep doing this,” James coughed out.

“Every time,” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

James took another drag and concentrated on the taste of smoke. How did Regulus taste after one of these? Like heaven wrapped in sin, he imagined.

Sirius was still looking at him, and James took the cigarette out of his mouth.

“What?”

“You fancy someone,” Sirius smirked, and James felt his stomach drop.

“You’re so obvious. You’ve got this look about you. Like you’re constantly starry-eyed.”

Sirius made a stupid face that James assumed was an impression of him.

“Hold on—”

“You also go out of your routine to do things that remind you of them. For example, I can tell that whoever they are, they smoke cigarettes.”

Sirius waved his lit cigarette between them. James was astonished. He didn’t know he was that easy to read.

“First of all, I do not make that face.”

“Oi! I’m a trained, professional actor. And your best friend. I’ll be the expert on what face you make when you’re enamored with another person, thank you.”

“Second of all…” James faltered.

He wasn’t going to tell Sirius he was meeting Regulus, obviously, but he didn’t know how.

Luckily, Sirius didn’t need to hear it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I tell you everything.”

Sirius shrugged. “Whatever your reason for keeping it a secret, I respect it. I never said that you have to share everything with me. That was your rule.”

James nodded, grateful. There was a pause before Sirius couldn’t help himself.

“My guess, though?” he continued with a smile. “They’re someone famous. A celebrity you interviewed and have to keep secret from the press.”

James choked for the second time on his cigarette and cursed as Sirius laughed at him.

“Enough about me and my love life,” he decided. “What are you brooding about?”

Sirius grimaced and looked at the city below.

“I quit my catering job.”

“Hm.”

James wasn’t surprised. Sirius went through different jobs quickly. He was barely employable due to the good chance he’d be recognized as ‘that gay actor with the scandals a while back.’ Despite the need for a stable job, Sirius had a temper when it came to dealing with arrogant bosses, the only kind he seemed to find.

“What did you do this time?”

Sirius scoffed. “You think so poorly of me? I quit with elegance and refinement this time.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” Sirius conceded. “I upended a tray of shrimp and my manager slipped in the cocktail sauce.”

“Was it satisfying?”

Sirius leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “His face was so red, Prongs. Though it might’ve been the sauce.”

They laughed, the sound carrying out over the street. James nudged Sirius affectionately.

“What’s next, then? Are you going to finally take up Marlene’s modeling agency card?”

“Dunno. I might take a page out of your book and be an investigative reporter. How else am I going to find out your secret crush? I’d start by interrogating your most recent interviewees. What was the last one? My brother?”

James nearly fell out the window.

Sirius nodded to himself. “I’d start with the one before that one, then.”

When James returned to the hotel the next week, he arrived right on time and went straight to the bar. Regulus was there just like before. It appeared he had been there a while. A nearly empty whiskey on ice sat in front of him, and Regulus was glaring at it like it had personally offended him.

“Look who it is. Potter,” Regulus drawled, propping his head on his hand as he watched James slide into the seat next to him.

“You invited me here,” James reminded him.

Regulus scoffed. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

James peered at him through his glasses. “Regulus…” he said slowly. “Are you drunk?”

Regulus shushed him. “Don’t use my name in public.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, either.”

“Oh. My bad.”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, Potter, I hate you so much.”

James grinned. “I don’t know what I can do about that except join you in drinking.”

He ordered a Sex on the Beach, which Regulus made an adorably mad face about, and sipped it while sneaking inconspicuous glances at the man on his right.

They fell into silence, but it was strangely comfortable. James felt at peace while the other patrons at the bars talked around them and the music played softly overhead. He quite liked just being in Regulus’ presence, he realized. Just looking at him gave him butterflies.

This was fine. James resigned himself to perpetually falling for Regulus Black, even if it only resulted in a violent crash with reality. It was peaceful, now that he had comes to terms with it. It was like watching the rainfall glitter while knee-deep in a flood.

He could drown like this, happily.

“So. How was your day?” James asked.

Regulus huffed. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

Before James could ask what he was talking about, Regulus sat straight up and made a face eerily similar to the one Sirius had made the week before.

“How was your day?” he mimicked in an American accent, and James’ eyebrows flew up. “Honestly. You’re infuriating.”

“Are you making fun of me?” James asked, unable to suppress a smile.

“You’re making fun of me,” Regulus retorted nonsensically.

James leaned forward. “Do it again.”

“What? No. You’re so weird, Potter.”

“You’re the one who’s acting completely weird about a simple question. If I knew common decency was your kryptonite, I would’ve used it a long time ago. By the way. How many drinks have you had?”

Then James trailed off, because Regulus was flushed from the alcohol, and it was so lovely under the dim hotel lighting that he couldn’t think of anything else. It was like lightning had struck him. One of the ridiculous hotel chandeliers could fall on him, and he wouldn’t even blink.

Regulus downed the rest of his drink and pulled at James’ sleeve to leave the bar. James followed like a puppy, watching Regulus to make sure he didn’t stumble or anything.

“I haven’t had enough drinks,” Regulus muttered. “This is the part of the story you won’t like. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He led James to the elevator, scowling the entire time, and pushed all the buttons in the elevator except for their floor. James corrected that.

“Are you alright? You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Regulus said with conviction, surprising James. “It’ll nice to have someone know the truth. Even if it does make you hate me. More than before, that is.”

James frowned. He didn’t hate Regulus. Before, he’d hated the idea of him, someone who betrayed Sirius. He didn’t know if he ever could again, now that he knew Regulus.

He was about to insist this when the doors opened, the hallway yawning between them. James clamped his jaw shut but continued to look at Regulus, who met his gaze. Something glinted in his eyes like a challenge.

The doors shut. James took a step forward.

“I’m not out to get you, Regulus. Quite the opposite. I only want the best for you.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”

The doors opened again, and Regulus took a step back. James glanced to see if there was anyone standing in the hallway, and when there wasn’t, he took another step forward before the doors had clicked shut.

“You know what I think? I think this cold, mean exterior is all an act. I think underneath, you’re gentle and good.”

“Good?” Regulus echoed, momentarily off his guard.

James nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re a good person. Even if you hide it.”

The doors opened for the third time, but neither of them paid any attention. Instead, their eyes were locked on each other. James’ heart hammered at their proximity.

Briefly, Regulus’ gaze flickered down to his mouth. James’ heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was now or never.

He didn’t think.

Only gave into gravity and ducked his head to kiss Regulus.

His lips ghosted over Regulus’, waiting for the green light.

Regulus drew in a shaky breath.

The elevator dinged.

Regulus shoved James away so fast he nearly tripped backward. He rested against the far wall of the elevator to steady himself. With annoyance, James noticed two people entering the elevator and breaking his eye contact with Regulus.

His mind was a swirling mess, glitching on the moment before. James tried to catch his eye, but Regulus had his hands shoved in his pocket and was staring at the ceiling again, looking almost bored.

It was infuriating. For James, it was like the entire world had shifted.

For five excruciating floors, he glared at the couple making small talk, oblivious to the unfinished moment between the two men on either side of them. The moment they left, James spoke up.

“Sorry,” he blurted out. “About that. I shouldn’t have done that. But can I ask—”

“No, you cannot,” Regulus snapped, and James bristled.

“Why not? You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he demanded, and that at least got Regulus to look at him, however brief.

They arrived at the thirteenth floor, and Regulus strode out of the elevator without another word. James followed him swiftly.

“Don’t brush me off like that. I deserve an explanation. I feel like I’m going crazy, Regulus,” he said, the words falling out of his mouth impulsively.

Regulus scowled and unlocked the door.

He didn’t say anything, but he barely needed to. James had opened the floodgates on his obsession.

“I think about you all the time. I can’t get you out of my head. You should know, I don’t hate you. Not one bit. And I don’t care if you hate me.”

Regulus slammed the door shut and walked over to where James was rambling. He pushed James into one of the armchairs.

“Stop talking,” he warned.

But James was in for a penny, in for a pound. “I want you,” he continued.

Regulus froze, his jaw muscle twitching. James waited, feeling pathetic yet emboldened. So much for drowning in silence. He was clawing his way to the surface.

“For fuck’s sake, James,” Regulus groaned, dragging his hand through his hair.

A bolt of ecstasy zipped through him.

“James?” he repeated, his lips quirking up. Regulus had never said his first name before. It was all he wanted to hear from now on.

Regulus paused. “Yes, James. Please stop talking. I need you to listen. To know what I did.”

James straightened up and nodded. Regulus eyed him critically. But James, for once, shut up and forced his crisis out of mind. He devoted his attention entirely to him. Regulus took a shaky breath, then began again.

Regulus was fourteen when Sirius had his first scandal. He was sitting with Pandora on lunch break at school when she gasped at something on her phone. When she showed him, he blinked at the nonsensical headline.

Teenage Heartthrob Sirius Black Arrested!

Below was a grainy image of Sirius laughing as an officer handcuffed him, looking every bit the rebel he played on-screen with his black leather jacket and long, curly hair. Regulus recognized the wild glint in his eyes. That was the look he got when their mother pushed him too far and he decided to fight back. Only, it never ended well, because their mother knew just what to hold over their heads to put them back in line.

Regulus hated it when his brother made trouble. It meant a night of screaming and shattering dishes. Their mother would get aggravated, and then Sirius would whirl around on him.

“Why are you just sitting there? Why don’t you do something?” he spat at Regulus.

And Regulus, whose loneliness had sharpened his tongue and made him resent his brother for his absence, would snap back with something just like what their mother would say.

If he felt sorry about it, which he did less and less, Sirius was on a plane the next day to LA. Regulus barely saw him anymore.

He called his mother.

“He’s out of control,” she complained. “I let him go to LA alone, and this is how he acts. He probably thinks it makes him so cool. It’s a mess. I’ve been on the phone constantly with our publicist trying to fix it.”

“Can I talk to him?”

His mother scoffed. “He wasted his phone call trying to get me to come to LA.”

“You’re not bailing him out of jail?”

“No. He wants to act like a bad boy, he has to deal with the consequences. See how glamorous a jail cell is. Let him clean up his own mess. I have too much to deal with.”

However, their mother was incensed to learn a different woman had paid Sirius’ bail and taken him home. She seethed about Euphemia Potter, a stylist on Sirius’ show. She said all sorts of nasty things about this strange woman intervening for her son and tried to get Sirius back. But this time, Sirius would not take her calls.

Regulus had heard of the Potters. Sirius bragged to him about his friends in LA, mostly other actors which Regulus disliked. But then there was James Potter, who caught Regulus’ interest for many reasons. First, he wasn’t an actor like Sirius. Secondly, he was Sirius’ best friend. Sirius was constantly talking to him on the phone when he was in London.

Curious, Regulus searched online for James Potter. He found pictures of Sirius with him and tracked down his social media.

[“Oh my God. You found my Myspace?” James interrupted, distressed.

“Shut up, Potter. I don’t even remember anything from it.”

Regulus paused, his lips quirking. “Except that you really liked Fergie.”

James buried his face in his hands.]

Regulus was overcome with jealousy. He hated James because he had stolen his brother from him. His brother saw the Potters as his new family, far away from the problems of their own house. A whole ocean and continent away, Sirius had found a sanctuary. He was safe from their mother and could forget about Regulus.

All to say, Regulus felt completely justified in seeing Sirius as a traitor.

When Sirius got arrested again, a few weeks later, this time for drug possession, he didn’t sympathize. It was like their mother said. Sirius wanted attention, or to spite their family.

It never crossed Regulus’ mind that his brother might be struggling under the pressure he’d faced since he was a kid. In his ear, through the phone, range his mother’s words: Traitor. He doesn’t care about us. He’s impossible to talk to. He only thinks about himself.

In the rare event that Regulus did manage to get a call across to Sirius, he found his brother distracted and curt.

“Where are you?” he asked, listening to the voices and music in the background.

“Why do you wanna know?” his brother drawled in an American accent. “Are you going to tell Mom?”

“Should I?” Regulus challenged, and his brother laughed humorlessly on the other side.

“You need to stop letting her boss you around, Reggie. Come join me in LA.”

For a moment, Regulus’ heart soared. Then he was suspicious.

“I don’t want to go to LA just to do drugs and go to parties.”

“You’re such a little prat.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes, you’re a—”

“No. I mean about inviting me to LA. She wouldn’t want me visiting. You know that.”

“You’ll like it better here, I promise. I’ll show you how to have real fun.”

But before Regulus could figure out how to book a plane fight without his mother noticing, another scandal escaped and was plastered to all the headlines. Sirius had been caught at a party making out with a boy.

Regulus stared at the newspaper, the letters swimming on the page. Sirius hadn’t ever mentioned that he was gay to Regulus. Perhaps James knew. Sirius talked to him all the time. He trusted him. He hated Regulus, who represented everything he was trying to run away from. Did Regulus even know his brother at all?

Of course, no one was more horrible about Sirius’ situation than their mother. She spewed vitriol in their house and cursed Sirius like he had betrayed her. In her mind, he had.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked no one. “He’s ruined everything. This phase of his has cost us our reputation.”

She looked at the newspapers on the kitchen table with disgust. “He doesn’t deserve a place in my home. He can stay in LA forever, for all I care.”

Regulus glanced at her. “Are we really not going to see him?”

“He chose the stylist,” she said dismissively.

“Has he called at all?”

His mother narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you want to know? Are you a traitor, too, Regulus?”

He bowed his head, chided. He was worried for his brother.

He could feel his mother studying him with calculating eyes. She tilted her head. “What do you think I should do, Regulus? Now that Sirius is gone?”

And then Regulus realized that she’d been planning this all along.

She’d always known about his jealousy of Sirius. She knew he wished he could join him in Hollywood. And not only that, but she had personally cultivated Regulus’ envy in every conversation and cutting remark over the years. She wanted him to feel inferior to Sirius so she could use his hatred for her own gain.

She knew he was a good actor; she’d been training him to be Sirius’ replacement all his life. Their mother didn’t take chances, and Regulus was her back-up plan.

Regulus stared at the newspapers, his face schooled into neutrality, though his blood pounded in his ears. His mother waited expectantly.

This was his chance to prove himself to prove himself to their mother. But Regulus hadn’t wanted it, or fame, in a long time. After seeing how it had gotten to Sirius, he was strangely grateful it had been his brother, not him. Sirius had protected him from everything.

But Sirius wasn’t here anymore, and it was Regulus’ turn to protect him.

If one of them had to be their mother’s puppet, it might as well be him. Then Sirius could be left alone in his sanctuary, far away from their family. Regulus could shoulder the burden.

At least, that’s what Regulus told himself when he lifted his gaze to his mother resolutely.

“Put me in,” he said. “I can act.”

She smiled at him, finally pleased.

So, while ignoring Sirius, Regulus and his mother conspired on how to make him a star. She spent thousands of dollars on acting lessons and exacerbated her connections in the industry. He did whatever she told him, and before long, he was signed onto a show.

Fame was quick and overwhelming. He was constantly compared to Sirius and examined for the same vices. But Regulus hadn’t watched Sirius for years for nothing. He learned from Sirius’ mistakes and his mother’s stringency. He dodged questions and never revealed anything personal.

And if he regularly checked up on Sirius and his new life with the Potters, no one was the wiser.

Ten years went by, and Regulus’ life changed dramatically. He took meticulous care of his public image and distanced himself from Sirius’. He was careful not to fall to Sirius’ vices, for fear of being castrated by the media just like his brother, as everyone expected. He avoided every temptation.

Until James Potter crashed into his life.

James had drawn him in from the first look. James touched his hand, and the stars realigned.

Despite Regulus’ best intentions to get him off his mind, all he thought about was messy dark hair and muscular shoulders under pressed shirts. He was agreeing to press interviews and waiting at hotel bars for another glimpse. His mouth went dry when James came in the first night, his shirt clinging in all the right places, his hair dripping like he’d just walked out of a steamy commercial.

Now, Regulus was jealous of Sirius for an entirely different reason. Sirius had access to James whenever he wanted, go to see him when he went home. And Regulus was forevermore the traitor James despised.

Regulus wasn’t naïve. He knew he’d never get to have James. Not only because if it would ruin the reputation he’d so carefully built, but also because James’ undying loyalty lay with Sirius. It had ruined his life.

But then James took him by surprise: I want you.

And, well. James should’ve thought about the consequences of looking at Regulus like that and saying those words.

It wasn't fair. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. So Regulus did what he’d been trained for and pushed James away.

Instead of telling James about his mother’s plan, he cast himself as the villain.

“It was always about the fame,” he lied. “I was waiting for the moment Sirius slipped up so I could take his place. It was my idea. I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

James, who had sat patiently through the story, just nodded. Regulus couldn’t read him. Despite internally panicking, he managed to keep his face blank as James processed everything.

This was the part where James stood up and stormed out of the hotel room. Or decided to go back on his word and leak everything to the press. Regulus held his breath.

But instead, James looked up and pierced Regulus’ heart with lovely, honey-brown eyes. And then he smiled, a little lopsided, like usual.

“That's quite a story. It would be crazy if it were true,” he said.

“What?” Regulus peered down at him, arms crossed.

Perhaps James was having trouble processing. But he didn’t seem confused at all when he stood up slowly and stalked toward him. Regulus scowled at him, hoping his erratic heartbeat was quieter than it seemed.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me the truth, whatever it is,” James said. “But that’s a matter for a different time. Right now, I want you to answer my question.”

“Fine. Spit it out, Potter. I don’t have all day.”

James smirked, his eyes dark and dangerous as they dropped to Regulus’ mouth.

“Do you want me?” he asked, his voice low and syrupy.

How could Regulus say no? James was so gorgeous, it hurt.

He did, though. He was an actor.

“You should leave, Potter.”

“Should I?” James leaned in, testing Regulus’ patience.

“Yes.”

He only hesitated for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

James chuckled darkly. “Liar.”

And then Regulus didn’t give him a chance to call his bullshit further, because he grabbed James’ face and kissed him.