“Who’re you writing that novel to?” Sirius quipped, looking over to his brother, who was tapping away on his phone, composing the longest text that must have even been written.
Gray eyes flicked up from the screen, sending a death glare that could have rivaled Walburga’s. “None of your business,” Regulus muttered, his cheeks turning slightly pink.
But before Regulus could disappear in the other room or under a blanket, Sirius decided to intervene. “Little brother, you need to be taught how to flirt. It’s obvious you’re awful at it,” he said decisively, frowning toward him. Sure, Regulus had had a few relationships in his life, but they were both in their twenties now–freshly graduated and in their own flat. It was time for Regulus to figure out how to get a man.
This time, the younger man’s expression was slightly amused. “Yeah? What should I say then, oh wise one? I mean, you have so much experience. How many men have you dated? One?”
It was true. Sirius had plenty of experience with women, but Remus was the only man Sirius had so much as kissed. Once he’d realized he wanted Remus, there was no going back.
“It doesn’t matter,” he scoffed, hiding his blush. “I still have a boyfriend. The trick is to send pictures, Reg. Men like visuals.”
“Pictures?” Regulus replied with a smirk.
“Not–no!” Sirius shot back. He wasn’t about to tell his brother how to do that. “Not naked pictures! Just something attractive! Enough to make him interested!”
Regulus’s expression was thoughtful, but there was a hint of mischief there. “Okay. Say I was going to send a picture. How might I go about it?” he asked hesitantly.
Sirius sighed. He had to do everything. “Here, let me,” he sighed, pulling out his own phone.
He then began to guide Regulus through a makeshift photo shoot, directing him to turn this way and that, make this face and that one, all while, in his opinion, being very supportive and helpful. God, he was such a good brother.
“Okay,” he said after a while, sending the pictures to a slightly annoyed-looking Regulus. “Now, send him that one where you’re leaning back a bit, and your shirt's riding up. It’s suggestive, but not slaggish. There’s no way any self-respecting man wouldn’t love it.”
The younger man gave him a long, disbelieving look before tapping at his screen for a few moments and making eye contact again. “Done,” he announced.
“Good! Trust me, Reg, he’ll love it. A whole lot more than a ridiculously long text, that’s for sure,” Sirius chuckled, pleased with himself and his generosity. “Now, tell me. What’s his name? Do I know him?”
Regulus shrugged, a hint of an amused smile on his lips. “James.”
“It’s James,” Regulus repeated, looking like he was about to burst into a fit of laughter.
“Not–not James Potter,” Sirius asked, voice rough and hollow. His ears were ringing. This had to be a joke.
“That’s the one! And…judging by his reply,” Regulus said casually, glancing at his screen and standing up, “I’ve got myself a date. Don’t wait up!”
Sirius could only mumble incoherent syllables as he watched Regulus walk away smugly.
