Des yeux qui font baisser les miens
Un rire que se perd sur la bouche
Voilà le portrait sans retouche
De l’homme auquel j’appartiens
Quand il me prends dans ses bras
~ La Vie en Rose, Edith Piaf
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Warm hands traced down the spine on Regulus’ back, pushing upwards with each bump and scab that resides there. The sensation was almost ticklish in nature, but somewhat soothing of the itchiness that seems perpetual to just stay there – the itchiness that could only be fully soothed with strong nails and a harsh hand – picking up each scab and gathering blood on the back of his skin, some of the hardened blood would get caught under his nails.
The press of James’ mouth to his back dragged him out of his thoughts. Warmth of his lips meeting the cold Regulus’ back. “Your backs looking a little rough priy.” James’ mumbles into his back, the vibrations reaching up through Regulus’ spine making him shiver.
Regulus knew, boy did he know, how horrible his back must have looked. But there was something deep inside him that made it so he couldn’t stop. Most of the time he picked and tore at his back fully subconsciously, just a hand that would run up to his shoulders and the base of his neck. A hand that would dig into the connection of skin and scab, ripping them up causing small caves and grottos to permanently reside here. But the scabs don't form themselves – and Regulus swears he can’t be held fully responsible for his actions surrounding this part, in his defence it’s annoying and uncomfortable – pimples and skin tags would start first. They would pull and rub against the back of his clothing, a sensation Regulus could go without.
It started small at first, just the back of his arms, where small bumps would blossom. When he was just a kid they’d sprout and become the bane of his existence from then on. Little bumps that were just caused by yeast, or so swore his mother; Yet every meal had to be eaten with a bit of bread, some stupid French tradition if you’d ask his brother. Regulus would reach his arm up the sleeve of his shirt, pulling it up and bunching up at the top of his shoulder, holding it down with his chin. And he’d pick at the little red bumps there, pushing his nails into the skin there, more often than not ripping up skin surrounding the bumps rather than the actual target.
“I know,” Regulus mumbles into where he tucked his down into his pillow. “it’s not as bad as it was though.” And he was right about that, once he had moved out Sirius had essentially forced him to cut his nails down into a stub, meeting the flesh of the tips of his fingers. Which had made Regulus fully more determined to pick at his skin for some reason. At times using his teeth to get what he wanted, Sirius backed off on the nail cutting after that. Deciding, ultimately, that the nails were a better idea.
James pushes himself up further up Regulus’ back, resting his chin on the junction where Regulus’ neck meets his shoulder. His breath swaying the hairs near the base of his neck. “Okay” James whispers, being considerate for how close he is to Regulus’ ear, “If it isn’t that bad, don’t you start” He cuts Regulus off before he can even start speaking to defend himself. “Then why are we practically out of bleach, why are our sheets constantly shoved into the washer with little dots of blood that only reside on your side of the bed.” He huffs out a little hesitant. Well more frustrated than that. His voice louder then it had been before, but just barely above a whisper.
Regulus groans a bit, feeling a little exposed in the way James had just laid down some complete facts surrounding it. “Well…” he trails off. “You don’t have to get mad at me about it.” Regulus, sinks his head further into the pillow, muffling his words a bit.
“Nuh-uh, don’t pull that card” James playfully taps the back of Regulus’ head, jolting him a bit in surprise. “I’m not mad at you, frustrated sure, but never mad.” He uses his hand to nudge Regulus’ face out of the pillow and towards him, while rolling his head off of his shoulder and towards the space beside him. “Look, I don’t fully understand why you pick and pick at your skin. And, you don’t know how to explain it to me, which is fine! I get it, it's okay.” He takes a breath when Regulus’ face emerges from the pillow, looking him in the eyes. “I just don’t know how to help you. You constantly complain about the scarring on your face, your shoulders and your back, but do nothing to work against it.”
Regulus rolls his eyes and rolls over onto his side to face James, crossing his arms a bit. Or as well as you can when you’re laying on your side.
“It’s fine James, don’t look at me like that.” Regulus reaches his hand up and flicks the tip of his nose gently. James pouts and licks his hand as it comes down. “Hey!” Regulus yelps a little scandalized, “I’m trying to be serious and you lick me?” James grins at him, grabbing the hand the Regulus used to flick him, pulling it down and towards his chest. Holding his hand there gently with both hands. Grasping it and letting his warmth seep through the thin skin on Regulus’ hand.
“I’m happy now, continue” James says with a cheeky grin. “As I was saying.” Regulus continues lovingly frustrated, “It’s fine, I’m genuinely complaining just to complain. I do that all the time, you know this.” James lets out a little snort in reply, pulling Regulus’ grasped hand closer to his chest. Moving his head down to press a feather light kiss to his knuckles.
“You know I'm just worried about you.” James whispers to his knuckles, not looking up to meet Regulus’ eyes. “I don’t want it getting back again” He lifts his head up from Regulus’ hands looking him directly in the eyes, with a hint of pain, wetness dancing on the waterline of his eye. One of his hands letting go of Regulus’, falling down to drag down his wrist down his forearm. Rubbing up and down gently on the slightly deformed skin. Before pulling his arm up to press kisses into the place right below the overhang of his palm, right where the veins in his wrist are most visible. “I know” Regulus says softly, pulling his arm away from James’ mouth and his grasp to run his fingers through the tight curls on the side of James’ head.
James leans into the hand in his hair, nudging into it a bit like a cat. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” Regulus says with soft finality, shutting down James’ line of thought. “And” James says with emphasis implying for Regulus to continue with the sentence. “And, I’ll tell you if that changes”
James gives Regulus a warm smile, “Good boy.” Regulus lets out an undignified gasp, pulling his hand harshly out of James’ hair, still careful not to hurt him of course. “That was disgusting, please never say that again.” Regulus grimaces, his face mouing.
James lets out a warm laugh, the dimples on his cheeks growing.
They both know they’ll be fine, they have each other.