mariguly
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“Am I dreaming?” Potter rasps. “Or why are you towering over me like that?”
“Can you swallow?” Regulus barks, unimpressed.
Potter does so pointedly, winces thoroughly, but slaps the grin right back on when he succeeds. “Odd thing to say, but I’ll take it,” he manages to get out, eyes glazing over every few seconds, proving he is clearly out of it.
“I got something for you to swallow so you won’t die on me,” Regulus offers and gets the bezoar out of its box to hold up in front of Potter.
“Happy to swallow anything–” Potter closes his eyes for a moment, obviously in excruciating pain but too proud to ever admit it, “–anything you give me.” He grins crookedly.
“Perfect.” Regulus shoves the stone down his throat and washes it down with a Sleeping Draught.
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Or: Regulus has always wanted to be a Healer. Once he betrays Voldemort and starts working for the Order, life seems perfectly calm. That is until James Potter manages to almost get himself killed and has to spend a couple of weeks at Regulus' to be healed. Learning how to act around each other while figuring out the curse that hit James proves to be challenging.
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Summary
The pebbles crunch underneath his shoes as he walks up the driveway just after eleven, as he did dozens of times before. It’s barely lit, only illuminated by the moon and some fairy lights, scattered above the door and along the fences. Really, this is the perfect time to arrive, not seeing colours and also not risking being seen by anyone. What’s important is to also leave before the sun rises again, or his blissful life in black and white will be tainted.
Or
Regulus and James are so very much in love, but can't be together. Instead of working it out or going their separate ways, they exist in their own black-and-white world. Hurting each other, but never letting go.