Chapter Text
Regulus has always hated the heat. Living in dreary England where the sky was a constant gray and his body held a vitamin D deficiency left him extremely unfamiliar with the concept of sunburn and sandy beaches. Fiji was the complete opposite of his life at home, and despite his initial apprehension to the weather and the sensory overload of the granulated sand, he felt free in a way he never had before when stepping foot onto the island. He had never travelled outside of the country, nor tried to, so when he informed his family of his impromptu getaway to the tropics, they knew better than to protest. After all, someone could only be pushed so far before they snapped, and freshly 18 year old Regulus had been teetering on the edge for a long time.
When he had first boarded the plane alone, it had been muggy, and a lingering odor hung in the stagnant air throughout the whole first flight. The second hadn’t been much better, and Regulus had seriously begun doubting his choices when he finally landed at the small airport with bags under his eyes and a trickle of sweat on his forehead due to the lack of AC.
That all vanished when he ventured through the front doors of the luxury resort he was staying in and was greeted with sparkling marble floors and a sculpted fountain in its centre. The scent of fresh lavender overwhelmed his senses and cool air brushed his flushed complexion as he approached the front desk and obtained his keycard. Room 206 was clean and quiet, the only sound that filtered into the small space had been the lapping waves of the beach that circled the entirety of the resort. It was a dream, a blissful fantasy that had finally become a reality. He was so happy to be there alone, but he was also extremely tired, so for the first time in his life he spent the entire first day napping in the soft linen and helping himself to the mini bar, his breath a mixture of alcohol and potato chips by the end of the night.
The second day he first felt the sand of the beach between his toes, it was uncomfortable, clinging to the sticky sunscreen he had applied generously to the entirety of his body. He had a bag on his left shoulder and a book in his right hand, laying his stuff to his side as he claimed the closest beach chair he could find. It cost him a pretty penny, as did everything on the island, but he didn’t mind if it meant he could be shielded from the sun and away from potential riptides that would sweep him out to sea. He didn’t have much of a plan for his vacation, hell–he didn’t even know when he was going back. All he knew was that he had a one way ticket and a whole lot of free time that needed to be filled. If it’s by the beach and free buffet he wouldn’t complain.
Regulus was a boring person, he thrived on routine and neutral colours, his favourite being Black, so booking this trip had been something he did out of necessity, not comfort. The buzz he got when clicking submit payment sparked something within him, whether it was rebellion, fear, or both, he wasn't sure. He was sure however, that he liked it, and wanted to chase it. That feeling had been the thing he was unknowingly craving for as long as he could remember, and the faintest taste of freedom he got from making a choice for himself made his body buzz like nicotine. He wanted to be someone else. A person who found excitement in danger, who thrived on adrenaline. Fiji was his opportunity to be that version of himself, and he was going to take it.
By day 3 he had stopped thinking of ways to be rebellious and instead chose to laze by the pool. He wouldn’t get in the urine contaminated water, but he would happily lay on one of the sun beds with his book and sunglasses and pretend as though the screaming kids didn’t make him want to rip his hair out. It was a pretty busy afternoon, with people of all ages splashing around and enjoying the comfortable temperature complimented by a subtle afternoon breeze.
Regulus could feel the curls on his head moving gently in the wind, his sunglasses preventing them from falling into his eyes as he continued to read silently. He was reaching the climax of the story, engrossed in the words and completely oblivious to the world around him, so much so he hadn’t noticed a sudden object flying in his direction. The only thing that was capable of breaking his trance was a booming English accent that called for him to ‘watch out!’. It was too late for that though, because as soon as Regulus lowered the book from his face a leather ball crashed into his nose in a swift, painful blow.
What the fuck.
His book clattered to the ground and he heard the unmistakable bounce off the football skip to the side of him as he gripped his throbbing nose. He looked to his hand and saw a lack of blood, it wasn’t broken, but it hurt like a bitch.
The patter of footsteps and continuous apologies rang in his ears as he looked up at the person approaching him. His tanned skin and defined chest made Regulus question whether he had been hit harder than he thought and ascended to heaven, but as he kneeled down beside Regulus and passed him back his book with an apologetic expression, he knew he hadn’t been that lucky.
“Learn to catch.” Regulus muttered as he snatched the book back and repositioned his glasses on his face. Sure he was hot, but he’s still the reason his nose is throbbing and his skin was an irritated mess around the area of impact.
He expected his dry remark to be met with a frown, maybe even a snarky comeback about his unnecessary reaction over a simple accident, but instead the man started smiling, teeth and all, letting out a loud chuckle as if Regulus was the world's best comedian. It took Regulus off guard, his face contorting into one of confusion as the person in front of him stood up. “I’m not sure I will, my poor catching skills seem to be working out pretty well for me at the moment” he said, eyeing him up and down.
Regulus flushed against his will, his rage at his body's betrayal simmering to the surface as he released an irritated scoff and not so subtle eye roll. The tanned mans voice sounded sweet like honey, and it made Regulus furious. Regulus wasn’t interested in a summer fling, much less with his attempted murderer, but the man’s overwhelmingly attractive attributes were hitting Regulus in waves, making it hard for Regulus to focus on his usual bitter anger. They both looked at each other for a moment before the curly haired boy stuck out his hand and greeted himself as “James Potter”. Regulus reluctantly reached forward and shook it, replying back “Regulus.” in a steady tone as not to arouse any suspicion around his wandering eyes.
“Regulus…?” James pushed, completely disregarding Regulus's annoyed expression.
“Just Regulus.” He replied again. James didn’t need his last name, they were strangers, and it’s not as though they would become friends. Regulus must admit he refused mostly out of stubbornness, but he still agreed that knowing such a thing was trivial and served no real purpose.
“Ok just Regulus, it’s nice to meet you.”. He attempted again, seemingly indifferent to his clipped tone.
“I wish I could say the same.” Regulus muttered. He didn’t understand whether this man was dense, or just didn’t care about his obvious irritance.
Clearly it was the latter, as he chuckled again at his rudeness and began to ramble on about anything and everything. He commented on the weather, the people in their surroundings, the kindness of the staff, the snorkelling he witnessed people doing on the drive down to the resort, even his favourite resort receptionist who he referred to as ‘Becca’ that gave him special access to the rooftop terrace as compensation for his room mix up upon arrival. It was like someone had put a key in his back and wound him up all the way, making spew words in an endless stream until it reached the end that Regulus was convinced would never come.
He had no interest in his hobbies or oddly optimistic outlook on life. He quite frankly just wanted him to shut the hell up. All initial attraction to his cheeky grin and chiseled abs had evaporated and instead left a boiling anger in its trace. He was reaching his brim, and if he sat around listening to this clueless man anymore he’d snap and say something that would get him a lifetime ban from the pool area and a lot of dirty looks from the helicopter parents circling the perimeter.
The only rational conclusion Regulus could meet was to walk away, so as he attempted to block out the deep yet silky English accent badgering in front of him, he snatched his things from his side and stood up, slipping on his shoes and cutting him off with a shake of his head. James hadn’t been expecting to be shut down so abruptly, and had no time to process let alone object to Regulus's clear attempt to end the one sided conversation.
“I have somewhere to be.” Regulus said in a neutral tone, offering no further explanation.
James was clearly disappointed by his desire to leave, but didn’t fight him on it. If he had, Regulus would’ve probably reported him to the front desk for harassment. He instead shrugged his shoulders and mentioned how that was a shame, indicating he’d make sure to come find him another time and ‘properly’ apologise for the ball to the nose incident with a drink or perhaps dinner.
Regulus’s face dropped at the suggestion, he had never met someone so forward. So clear with their intentions and most shockingly insistent on getting to know him. His family and their friends back in England were dreary old folks or miserable young adults who dealt with their self loathing through an overindulgence of sex, drugs, and liquor. He could count on one hand the amount of people he had in his life who he had a genuine interest in, who were worth getting to know, and even then he kept them at a distance.
It was frustrating for him because it was unfamiliar. He was used to his bad attitude and harsh glares being enough to keep people away, but James looked as though he was thriving on it. Like Regulus’s venomous words filled him with excitement, maybe even a little lust. Regulus’ best defence was so easily being torn down, and he was slightly terrified. He hadn’t expected to be asked for a drink, let alone dinner, so he simply ignored him and continued to walk to his room a little bit faster.
When he opened the door and met his face to the pillows, he couldn’t help but think about the small interaction he had just had. His heart was beating unusually fast as conflicting emotions thrashed inside of him. He refused to admit it, but that jittery feeling that he chased from cigarettes was pounding in his chest at full force. It was exhilarating, it was addicting, and James Potter had been the one to ignite it like gasoline to a flame.
He hesitated for a moment and dragged his hands down his face as he weighed his options. On one hand this could be an opportunity for him. He has said he wanted to be impulsive, to ride the high of rebelling against his parents. James was the perfect person to help him achieve that. But on the other hand a summer romance was a recipe for disaster. Regulus was not one for relationships, sure he had fooled around over the years, but that never lasted more than one night, and it was purely for pleasure, not connection. Spending so much time with one person who flirts like his life depends on it leaves room for unwanted feelings, for a relationship to be created. Regulus didn’t want to build something he could lose, and the conflicting emotions that have been pulsing in his blood from their singular interaction today indicate that very well could happen.
He was used to being in control, but maybe for once he should let loose from the narrative that every choice he made needed to be so carefully considered, after all, that impulsiveness is what lead him to Fiji where he could finally take a full breath without feeling the grip of his parents hands suffocating him internally.
His eyes fluttered closed as he sunk further into the bedding of his room. He realised in the final moment before sleep took over that his desire for control is preventing him from gaining the freedom he craved. Understanding that is what led him to make the subconscious decision to allow fate to run its course for once without a fight. No matter how daunting it may seem.
—----------------------------------------------------
Regulus woke up to a trail of dry saliva on the side of his chin. He felt groggy and his stomach was yearning for food more sustainable than snack bar potato chips. He looked out the window and saw it was dark, checking his phone to see the time reading 7:30 pm. He had slept for 5 hours, and despite doing nothing more than lay in the heat he felt tired beyond belief. He rubbed his eyes and went for a quick shower, changing before leaving the room.
He wasn’t sure what was open, and he was unfamiliar with the places outside of the resort, but he figured he could find something easy enough as he got into a cab that would take him to the centre of the island.
When he pulled up to the restaurant area, he could hear and see the bustling crowds of tourists. It was clearly a very busy time, as people stumbled around and allowed the tipsiness of alcohol to raise their voices above an appropriate volume. God , seeing this made him need a drink. He tipped the driver and walked into the first place he could see, ordering pasta for takeaway as the restaurant was full and he had no reservation. He went for a walk with his food after waiting way longer than he wanted, finding a bench near the water to eat at. His stomach was thankful to finally be fed, and his grumpy mood immediately improved when finally feeling full. Regulus was bored and hunger free and desperate for something interesting to do after wasting 5 hours of his day asleep, so when he heard the sound of a live band crashing through the doors of a dingy pub on the outskirts of the shorefront he had been slowly walking on he immediately went inside.
He waved his way through the intoxicated crowd, tables full of people were shouting at the tv with their pints in one hand and ladies in the other, and pool tables were fully occupied. He found the only bar stool available and took a seat, ordering a whisky from the old, gruff bartender and looking towards the live band who were playing to a clearly disinterested crowd.
He finished the first glass quickly thinking to himself in an attempt to ignore the couple making out on his right. He was relaxed and significantly less irritated now that he had been fed and a smidgen tipsy. That was until he heard a loud fit of laughter echo throughout the bar. The band had finished their last song and began to pack up as he looked towards the source of the sound and made eye contact with none other than James Potter. He was surrounded by a bunch of rowdy locals and had a slight pink flush that emphasised his intoxication.
Regulus immediately looked away in hopes he wouldn't realise it was him, but he knew he wasn’t so lucky when the chair that was 2 minutes ago occupied by a horny couple was pulled out and filled by 6.2 feet of pure muscle. Regulus avoided eye contact, downing his second glass of whisky in one gulp in hopes the liquid courage would allow him to have a non-confrontational conversation. James looked at him with a big smile, taking the opportunity to order another beer and refill his whisky as he slouched comfortably into his seat and turned his body towards him.
“Twice in one day, I told you I'd find you again but I'll admit I didn't expect it to be this quick. Must be fate.”
“Or I'm just unlucky.” Regulus mutters back against his will. Clearly the whisky hadn’t helped him bite his tongue.
James didn’t seem to mind though, taking a sip of his beer and licking away the foamy moustache he got from it. Regulus couldn’t help but stare at his tongue as he did so and wonder how it would feel mixing with his. The warm sensation. The lingering taste of bitterness and sweetness mingling between their mouths as their spit collided. Liquor makes him slip up, and Regulus was frustratingly eager to take James to the bathroom and drop to his knees. He wouldn’t though, he had self control, and James was looking at him with a knowing smirk, pulling him from his lewd thoughts with a flush of embarrassment.
“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your friends?” Regulus pushed in hopes of getting rid of James.
He simply shrugged in reply, “I told them I was leaving, and besides, I only met them around 2 hours ago.”.
Regulus shouldn’t be surprised James hadn’t known them for long, based on their initial interaction, it didn’t seem like he had any problem talking to strangers. Despite this it still surprised Regulus. “I don’t know how you do that,” he said.
“Do what?” James asked in reply.
“Just talk to anyone, it’s odd.”
James’s eyebrows furrowed in response, clearly in disagreement with Regulus’s statement. “There’s nothing odd about making friends, Regulus, don't overcomplicate it. People are a gift, connections are something to cherish. I like to make them whenever I can, no matter who it is or how small.”
Regulus forgot how optimistic James can be and couldn’t help but scoff in response. “I don’t understand why you are so insistent on being friends with me.” Maybe Regulus was being defensive, but he couldn’t help it.
“I just want to know you, isn’t that enough?” James says with a sigh, clearly he was upset over Regulus’s dismissal.
Regulus didn’t know how to take that response, and flinched a little at his honesty. It filled him with anxiety. James was clearly someone who found joy in connections, and it was obvious he saw Regulus as a new and exciting challenge. He wanted to break through his hard shell and see if anything special hid beneath it. That made Regulus nervous, because with breaking down his walls comes vulnerability, and if James didn’t like what was underneath, which Regulus was sure he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t know how to deal with it.
The conversation hit an awkward pause as Regulus swallowed his new glass and reigned in his wandering thoughts. He didn’t like where the conversation had headed, so resulted in deflection in hopes it would calm the heat rising in his chest.
“Well they may be fine without you, but the dance floor seems to be calling your name.”
James decided to follow his lead, letting go of the heavy tension with a chuckle. “I’m sure you’d love to watch me there, but I don't dance without a partner, and the one I want seems far too brooding to join me.”
Regulus scoffed again, but this time it held no weight to it. “I have no interest in watching you mingle with those sweaty bodies James, let alone go with you.”
James doesn’t miss a beat, replying, “well then I guess I'll just get comfortable right here, that’s if you’re staying?”.
“I had no plans on leaving. Not yet at least.” Regulus shrugs, letting his words be a subtle invitation for James to stay as his company.
“Perfect, then I’ll have to get you another.” James says with a bright smile as he calls over the bartender and asks for a refill. He hadn’t yet finished his beer, but Regulus’ doubted it would be long before he was ushering for another.
As Regulus’s drink was poured, James took the opportunity to ask him about his stay in Fiji, when he had gotten there, how long he planned to stay, and what his goals for his trip were.
Regulus had responded simply, but this time he hadn’t tried to cut their conversation short or bite out a sour remark. The absence of his usual bad attitude allowed them to slip into flowing conversation, and for once Regulus wasn’t so opposed to the idea of speaking to James. That could be the liquor talking, considering he was on his 4th glass, but he suspected it couldn’t fully be to blame, as he found himself embarrassingly interested in the wild stories James shared of his worldwide adventures and chaotic youth.
He found out that James had no return date to his home in England, that he had a brother who was recently married, that he hated olives, and that his friend group had given each other stupid nicknames that they were far too deep into using to let go of despite their now adulthood. Prongs was his, his brother he called Padfoot, Moony, for his brother's husband, and Wormtail, for the last member of his group. Regulus felt particularly bad for whoever got the name Wormtail, it was the most offputting, especially for a 20 year old. They had all met in boarding school, where their troublemaking activities got unleashed, or so James says anyways.
James had learnt nothing from Regulus further than surface level things, such as his favourite colour being Black which James found heavily entertaining, and that he was born in France, hence his slight accent which James found embarrassingly attractive.
The night trailed on as their intoxication grew, fuelling their voices to increase in volume and their laughs to occur ten times more frequently despite the fact neither of them were particularly funny. Soon enough the crowd had slowly dispersed, simmering down to a few passed out partygoers and tired staff members. James and Regulus didn’t seem to notice however, the time long ignored as James described in detail the pranks he used to pull in school with his friends and how his delinquent phase built him a better alcohol tolerance than most.
Regulus believed him, considering how cohesive he still was despite the amount of beer he had consumed consistently throughout the night, but he could still tell James was completely sloshed like him. They had poor motor function, obvious by the way they swayed in their seats and struggled when walking to the bathroom throughout their evening, but they didn’t seem to care as they ordered drink after drink, racking up the bill to a number neither of them cared to see. It was clear money wasn’t an issue for either of them, allowing them to indulge in the bitter liquid as the staff cleaned off tables and helped call cabs for the passed out stragglers scattered throughout the space.
The gruff bartender who first served Regulus on entry cut through their conversation, asking if they needed help getting a cab as the bar was closing and they needed to leave. Both of them were taken aback by the interruption, looking towards the clock to see just how long had passed since they got lost in conversation. It was now 1 in the morning, and both of them were drunk. Despite this they denied his offer of a cab and decided together they would walk back in hopes of sobering up by the time they reached their rooms, after all they were going to the same place, and it was much safer walking with someone else in a foreign place than alone.
Regulus tried to take the tab but James pushed his hand away, and scoffed, as if Regulus’s money was offensive to him. James had insisted throughout the night he would be paying, but Regulus felt weird accepting that considering it wasn’t a date. It seemed like more hassle to fight him on it though, and despite how good Regulus was at starting arguments he felt as though this was something he couldn’t win. He accepted James’s insistence and said thank you to both him and the bartender for putting up with them as they exited the bar and made eyes with the darkness of the beach’s water outside.
They stumbled a bit and hesitated on which direction was the correct one before trailing down the street, the sound of the waves crashing fading into the background as they laughed at each other’s poor ability to walk straight. They were a jumbled mess of limbs, constantly banging into each other and shouting conversations much louder than necessary as they walked down the dim streets.
The fact they made it to the resort without getting lost was a miracle, and as they approached the doors much more sober than they had been leaving the bar, they abruptly stopped and looked at each other. It was clear this night had broken a lot of tension between them, particularly on Regulus’s end, but it also left room for uncertainty to linger, as they were now unsure of where they stood with each other. Maybe if Regulus wasn’t so conflicted it would be less awkward, but considering indecisiveness is his second name, it was just that.
Regulus was afraid to admit it but he had a lot of fun tonight. More than he has in a long time. And James, well– he was so easy to talk to, so easy to like. His stories reeked of adrenaline and impulsiveness, all things Regulus desperately wanted to experience, and when he thought about it he realised the idea of doing them with James seemed far less daunting then alone.
He wasn’t even sure if he could do it alone in the first place. Regulus was the type of person to wear Tuesday boxers on a Thursday and call it rebellious, not cliff jump in Puerto Rico. James promised adventure, he radiated fun. Regulus wanted danger, and James had that word in bold letters flashing above his head. Maybe these things were warning signs, maybe the overwhelming feelings Regulus was experiencing were his body screaming for him to avoid the edge, but he wanted to jump. He was scared, but if tomorrow led him to James then he would accept it with apprehensive but somewhat open arms. He may have a bark to his voice but he swore to himself to no longer bite. Let fate decide.
James broke him from his thoughts with a small cough.
“I’m going to go to my room now, Regulus. I had a really good time tonight.”
Regulus gave a small smile in return. “Yeah, me too.”
James seemed happy by the small confession that Regulus too had a good time, but he played it off with a “Good night.” to avoid seeming too eager.
“Night’ James.” is all Regulus replied before walking through the door first.
Regulus approached the elevator and clicked for his floor. James followed slowly behind him, taking the same left and awkwardly entering the elevator behind him.
They had already said goodnight, so now it felt stilted to spark up a new conversation after such an official goodbye. The silence was deafening, only broken by James as he let out an ‘oh’ at the realisation that Regulus had already pushed the button to the floor he was wanting. So they were on the same one, even more awkward.
The elevator music was way too loud for Regulus’s preference, but at least it prevented the awkward silence that would’ve otherwise occupied the space. The bell dinged and doors opened as they took a right down the hallway. Regulus was walking fast in order to create distance, and James was pacing slowly to further it.
Door 206 was clear in view as Regulus approached it, pulling the keycard from his back pocket as James continued past him. Regulus couldn’t help but glance as James stopped abruptly beside him. He was expecting James to speak, but realised quickly as they made eye contact and James looked between door 206 and 207 with his card in hand that he stopped for an entirely different reason than conversation.
“Well, this is awkward.” Regulus says with a laugh. When he said he’d let fate decide he didn’t realise it would become so ironic.
“I’m not complaining.” James replied, the tension easing from his shoulders at Regulus’s relaxed reaction. He thought he might be mad about it, but clearly Regulus was no longer angered by James’s existence.
Regulus shook his head and wished James a second ‘good night’ as he entered the room and shut the door before getting a response. He put his head against it, letting out a deep breath as he failed to suppress his growing smile. An internal crisis is brewing in his mind. James is unavoidable, maybe even inevitable considering all of the compounding factors that have so far been hurling them towards each other at full speed. He didn’t want to escape him at this point, he had everything he wanted, but that didn’t make it any less daunting. Regulus wouldn’t go as far as to say he liked James, but he knew deep down if he spent more time with him it wouldn’t take long for him to. He had 3 friends, all of which took years to form. James had him laughing within less than 24 hours, and Regulus never laughs. He hated to admit it but James was charming, and exactly his type, making things messy, and dangerous in a way much different to adrenaline. Regulus was fucked.
In room 207 James was having a very different reaction. Completely unaware of Regulus’s internal crisis, he shut the door and pumped his fist in the air, letting out silent chants of excitement at the turnaround tonight had brought between his and Regulus’s relationship. He never expected to see him again, much less make him laugh over drinks and talk for hours.
He jumped around the room, flopping onto his bed as his limbs turned to jelly and his smile began to hurt. He knew from the moment he saw Regulus that he was the one. His pale skin and slim frame made James’s eyes bulge from his head. His face was otherworldly, as if he had been painted by god himself. His contoured cheek bones and chilling gray eyes made James swoon. The nail in the coffin however was his voice. His angelic french accent chimed like church bells in his ears. ‘Here comes the bride’ was playing on backtrack throughout the entirety of the night as he was slowly seduced by Regulus’s words.
He had met his soulmate, he was sure of it. James had been in love before, but this was different. He was enamoured by him by the first sentence. He had been insulted by Regulus and James laughed like a giddy school boy. Pathetic, maybe, but James didn’t care. He was determined to unveil each of Regulus’s layers and love what lay beneath, even if Regulus put up a fight.
He didn’t think he stood a chance, after all, Regulus had been so disinterested in the beginning. He did start things off on the wrong foot, with the whole ball to the face thing, but he was grateful that it happened because he got to meet him as a result. Regulus was closed off and withdrawn, he had no initial interest in knowing James. But at the bar, it was different. There was alcohol involved, which let previously guarded things slip, and Regulus slid significantly. James noticed the occasional looks Regulus made when he thought James wouldn’t notice. His eyes were hungry, and it gave James a buzz like no other. Regulus was addictive, and James knew that he was already in too deep to let this go.
He enjoyed Regulus’s company so much more than he expected. Their conversations flowed as if they had known each other for years, and each piece James discovered of Regulus, no matter how small, enthralled him. Tonight marked the beginning of James’s plan to win Regulus over, and he was determined to show Regulus a fun time on the island, breaking down his walls in the process.