Years, and trauma, and more years, and more trauma, and more trauma + explosion + death + more trauma, and they were finally... Happy.

Not a great, big tragedy. Not anymore.

And, God, if James wasn't grateful for that.

He's got Marcel, and Malcom, and Aster, and Florimer, and they take up most of their time, and he's so glad he has the spawns of Satan (as Regulus has called them on many occasions).

And he's so glad he has Regulus, and his kids, and everything feels like it's settling, finally settling...

James was...

He was tired.

Tired of the war, the death, the blood, the- everything.

And, Merlin, he just wanted to sleep.

And when he wakes up, there's nothing but a bed, a kitchen, a front door, and a note with Regulus' writing on it, telling him to enjoy himself. (true story, he had a dream like that once.)

He knows he can't have anything like that, a dream, but God, was it nice to think about while it lasted.

But he did have something.

And now he wants to enjoy it.

James sits at the island, smiling as Marcel runs around him, and a small Aster tries to catch him.

He hears Malcom humming (something very offkey) to whatever song Regulus had been playing earlier.

He loves this.

"You're staring."

James is startled out of his thoughts, and his eyes refocus on Regulus, who's now standing across the island, hands on the counter, smirking.

God, James loves him.

"You're gorgeous." James blurts, before he can really stop himself, and he watches a flush appear on his husband's face.

"I'm covered in child spittle." Regulus replies. "I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of gorgeous."

"Don't care. Gorgeous."

And then James remembers that he has hands and can use those hands to touch Regulus' very pretty face.

He does just that, feeling the ever-so-soft skin (how is it always so soft??), running his fingers across Regulus' cheekbones, and cupping his jaw, tracing over right where a scar passes.

And that flush spreads?

Gorgeous.