When the Sun and Stars Unite (Jegulus Oneshots)

No Regrets

Getting married to the love of your life deserves a proper celebration. So when Regulus says 'yes' to his proposal, James doesn't waste a second and drags his friends to the pub to raise a glass to the happy occasion. Or two. Or... a lot of glasses. Too many to count, really. Wait. What are they celebrating again?
Needless to say, things get out of hand, but thankfully, Regulus is there to save the day. And night. And his very drunk fiancé.
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"He's so beautiful."

James rests his elbows on a table covered in a wonderful collection of stains by this point of the evening and props his head on his left hand while dangling a shot of gin from his right as he admires the reflections of the scattered pub lights in the liquid. The place is packed tonight, and people are milling about, talking, drinking, bumping into each other, or yelling at the TV. James observes the fray with a benevolent smile on his face, enveloped in a cocoon woven from warm buzz, glitter, and contentment. He can't remember feeling so much joy in his entire life. It's like an enormous ocean, rippling around him, through him, over him, golden waves following in quick succession until he's drowning in them. That's it. He's drowning in happiness.

"Who is?" The question comes from his right side, a little slurred. Only a smidge, though, despite Sirius drinking more than his share of booze for the evening. He drank James and Moony's share, too, but he's got a dog's liver or something, so he's only slightly pissed instead of utterly sloshed like James. No, take that back. James isn't sloshed. James is floating in a golden ocean, submerged in bliss. The only blip spoiling his mood is the undercurrent of sadness threatening to pull him down. Blissfully sad. Is that a thing? Must be if that's how he feels.

Sirius wraps his arm around James' shoulders and sticks his mouth directly next to his ear, tickling the shell with a warm breath so full of alcohol fumes it could dissolve metals. "Who are you talking about, Prongs?"

"Regulus." James lets out a dreamy sigh, lost in remembering Sirius' younger brother. He failed to notice him properly for so long—a great big tragedy, truly—but then Reggie stopped by the tattoo studio Sirius owns, and James happened to be visiting one day, bringing his brother macaroons because Sirius enjoys fancy treats, the posh bastard, and James looked. Like, really looked. Regulus nicked one of the macaroons from Sirius and popped the cookie in his mouth. A pistachio one. James remembers because the pale green crumbs clung to the pink flesh of Regulus' lips long after he'd finished eating, and James had the strangest urge to lick them off. Lick them off clean. Since then, he hasn't been able to stop noticing.

Everywhere he looks, every little detail reminds him of Reggie. The color of the clouds is the precise shade of his eyes. The smell of jasmine in the air matches the scent of his favorite shampoo. The silk shirt Sirius loves to wear, even though it gives him the appearance of a soap opera protagonist, has the exact same sheen and feel as Regulus' hair. He's just so... so beautiful. Yes, James already said that, but he enjoys the shape of the words against his tongue, savoring them. Like the sweetness of a macaroon melting in his mouth. "So beautiful."
"You've got it bad, mate." Sirius smacks a kiss on his cheek. A trickle of laughter rings out from a spot further on their right, prompting Sirius to turn in his seat, face away from James, and throw his arms around his husband, who's sitting right next to him. "Doesn't he have it bad, Moony? He's almost as much into Reggie as I am into you. Almost."

"Almost," Remus agrees.

They start making out immediately, eyes hungry to stare and hands grabby and desperate to touch. Neither of them pays any attention to James. Unacceptable. Absolutely bloody rude of them. It's as if they don't know; they don't understand the turmoil that's cleaving him apart. The riptide pulling him under intensifies, prompting him to tug at the sleeve of Sirius' shirt, but the man's utterly lost in snogging Remus. James might as well try to get a mountain to notice him by throwing pebbles at it.