Chapter 13
Regulus’ head was a cacophonous mess of emotion. He didn’t know what to feel, and when he stepped into their hotel room, he wanted nothing more than to sleep for at least five years. Barty and Evan were playing uno poker on the floor and Pandora was crocheting a…hat? It was all frighteningly mundane, so much so that Regulus was certain he’d been in some alternate reality for the past twelve hours.
“Hey, Reg!” Evan said, smiling like he always did.
Regulus nodded in his direction and kicked his shoes off, plopping face-first onto the bed. No one spoke, and it didn’t take long for Regulus to drift off to sleep, despite it being four in the afternoon.
That night found Regulus on the roof with Evan, Barty, and Pandora, passing around a blunt. Evan’s fingers combed through Regulus’ hair, working out knots with practiced precision.
“And he cried?” Evan asked, interrupting the end of Regulus’ story.
Regulus nodded and took a deep drag of the blunt Evan held at his lips. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, now. I was so angry, for so long, and then I was just disappointed, and I know it’s not really his fault—how can I know I wouldn’t’ve ran if I were in his position?”
“It’s not the fact that he ran, baby, it’s the fact that he didn’t try to contact you until over a decade later. That’s the piece that I blame him for, at least,” Evan said, puffs of smoke punctuating his words.
“Yeah,” Pandora said, “and I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I think you could benefit from seeing someone.”
“Seeing someone?”
“A therapist, honey. Maybe you and Sirius should see one together. Talking things through together might help you get past the disconnect and understand each other and the choices you both made,” she said, and yeah, Regulus knew she was right—she always was—but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about what happened in that house with a stranger.
“What if I can’t…talk about it?”
Barty cleared his throat and lifted his head from Evan’s other leg to look at Regulus. “It’s gonna fucking suck, but you’re gonna have to. I had to go to therapy after the shit my parents did.”
“I did too,” Evan said, “I still do, actually.”
Pandora hummed. “We all love you so, so much, and we can’t keep watching you spiral without knowing we’ve done everything in our power to help you. You deserve so much good, and it’s time you see it.”
Regulus shivered and closed his eyes. A memory flashed through his head, one with a sharp voice and long nails and— “what do worthless dogs deserve?” He remembered crying when Mother made him answer her, when she made him yell that he deserved to be hit, that he deserved nothing, again and again. His limbs felt heavy, too heavy, numb, and when he opened his eyes, Evan’s face was pale.
“She made you say that?” He whispered, and had Regulus said that aloud?
“She called you a dog?” Barty asked, sitting up straight. The men had wide, panicked eyes, and Regulus understood—
“Legs open, puppy.”
“Please what, puppy? Use your words.”
“There you go, puppy. Take it like a good whore.”
Regulus swallowed hard. “No, not like that—”
“Why did you let us…” Evan trailed off, and fuck, those were tears in his eyes.
“I wanted you to, I promise.” Regulus scrubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “It’s different when you do it, when I know I can tell you to stop and you will.”
Evan and Barty shared a look, unconvinced.
“Is this something I don’t want to understand?” Pandora asked, and all three of them nodded wordlessly.
“Can I hug you, Reg?” Evan asked, and Regulus couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged Evan outside of their occasional threesomes. He nodded and repositioned himself so he was straddling Evan’s legs, hugging the man with all his might. Barty joined in, too, and Regulus wasn’t sure if it was the weed or the hug that had him feeling so warm.
“You deserve everything good,” Evan whispered, and Regulus was glad his head was buried in the man’s shoulder so they wouldn’t see his tears.
***
Pandora was using Regulus’ phone when James sent the location and time of their date, and she ran into the bathroom, where Regulus was mid-shower, shouting.
“Regulus Black! How could you not tell me that you’re going on a date tonight?” She squealed, her words summoning Barty and Evan like flies to a carcass.
“Reggie has a date? Like a date-date? That’s not in the bathroom of a bar?” Barty asked, quickly followed by a groan—Evan must’ve elbowed him in the ribs.
“Can we not have this conversation while I’m deep cleaning my ass?” Regulus huffed, despite doing no such thing. The sounds of disgust from his audience were worth it.
Pandora grumbled something unintelligible and the bathroom door slammed. Regulus had a sneaking suspicion that Evan and Barty were still in the room, but he switched the shower off and threw the curtain back nonetheless. He stepped out of the shower and Barty handed him a towel, eyeing him with a not-so-subtle boner. Evan wasn’t fairing much better, his pupils expanding rapidly. Regulus rolled his eyes.
“You can look but you can’t touch,” Regulus taunted, wiping his body down and toweling his hair dry in front of the mirror.
“Fuck James Potter,” Barty scowled.
“I wonder if he’s ever had a foursome?” Evan mused, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. Regulus shook his head and slipped on a pair of boxers.
Pandora was waiting outside the door when Regulus opened it, and she had an armful of clothes ready. “I found an outfit that’ll drive James crazy.”
She pushed the clothes into Regulus’ arms and dragged Barty and Evan out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Might as well , Regulus decided, sorting through the garments for pants. To her credit, Pandora had an excellent fashion sense, and the outfit she’d picked out was perfect. For a fleeting moment, he wished Pandora and him were straight so they could share a wardrobe for the rest of their lives.
The deep red dress shirt Pandora picked was similar to the one he wore for their shows, but she’d also snuck in a thin mesh layer for underneath, so Reggie could unbutton the shirt a quarter of the way. The pants and shoes were irrelevant in comparison to the shirt combo, especially when Regulus penned on some eyeliner and rings.
Barty wolf whistled when he exited the bathroom at last, and Regulus had to fend off Evan’s wandering hands while he got the rest of his things together.
James texted that he was at the hotel and Regulus took a deep breath. It was just James, just Sirius’ dorky friend. Regulus opened the door and a chorus of yells sent him off:
“Make good choices!”
“I’m too young to be a grandpa!”
“Peg him good, baby!”
The old woman entering the room across from theirs gave Regulus an odd look and he spent the entire elevator ride to the lobby trying to get his face back to an acceptable shade of red.
[James POV]
The drive to the restaurant they’d decided on was quiet, largely because James was still trying to get his mouth to work without saying something positively filthy—Regulus was unfairly attractive, and he knew exactly how to dress to accentuate his best features. Like that waist, holy shit .
Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t far away, and they were seated in a quiet section without hassle.
“Are you just going to stare at me all night?” Regulus asked, and James nearly choked on his own spit.
“Just trying to commit this moment to memory.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “I knew you were the sappy type,” he muttered, scanning the menu.
“A large portion of the public would kill to be where I am right now, so I believe I’m entitled to some romanticism, no?”
“Better secure your spot here, then,” Regulus said, utterly emotionless. James wanted to fuck the attitude out of the younger man, but he reigned in the desire.
He cleared his throat and turned the conversation in a different, equally as dangerous direction. “Are you doing okay? After yesterday?”
Regulus unfolded his silverware from his napkin and lined up the forks and knife with the empty place setting before him. “No, I’m really not,” Regulus said, meeting James’ eyes at last. “But life goes on.”
“Is there anything I can do?” James asked, and Regulus’ eyes softened.
“My friends want me to start therapy, but until then, I’m content to indulge my ‘unhealthy coping mechanisms,’ as Pandora coined them,” Regulus said, never once looking away. James was utterly captivated by him, and he wasn’t sure that there was anything Regulus could ask of him that he’d deny.
“Okay?” He said, his voice hoarse.
Regulus smirked, “ Distract me, Potter.”
Well. That was one thing James could certainly do.
“What’s the best part about performing?” He asked, again redirecting the conversation.
The deflection wasn’t lost on Regulus, because of course it wasn’t, but the man took it in stride. “All of it? I like entertaining people, and perhaps I’m selfish, but I like to be at the center of attention in an environment that is largely predictable. I know exactly what to say, what to do, what’s coming next…. It’s peaceful, believe it or not.”
A million responses poured into James’ head, and before he could stop it, his lips were moving. “Interesting. So you like being told what to do? To be given specific directions to follow?” He said, mentally facepalming as soon as the words registered.
Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you heard from my answer?” He tsk ed and shook his head. “Your mind is truly in the gutter, Potter.”
“It’s not my fault, Reg. Have you looked in a mirror?”
A light blush dusted Regulus’ cheeks and James smiled.
“So quick to explain off your shortcomings…”
James crossed his arms. “I wasn’t aware that wanting you in every way you’ll have me was a shortcoming. How unfortunate.” He reached across the table and wrapped Regulus’ hand in his, reveling in their closeness when Regulus didn’t pull away. “What ever will we do?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Regulus said, glancing back down at the menu as if he’d never been so bored in his life. God, James was infatuated with him.
[Regulus POV]
James took him on two more dates before the next concert, but the dates never went beyond restaurants or cafes, and though it killed him to admit it, Regulus was grateful. Talking with Sirius had dug up memories upon memories, and he didn’t trust himself to fuck James without dissociating. And he wanted to remember every second he spent with James.
The older man was nice, patient, and funny. Regulus couldn’t remember a time he’d laughed as much as he had on their second date, and James never pressed topics that made Regulus anxious or uncomfortable. He had a very accurate perception of where he stood with Regulus, so much so that he knew exactly when to stop when conversations or kisses got away from them, even when Regulus himself didn’t recognize the boundary line they were approaching.
It was getting easier, though, to think about James again in a sexual context, like he had at the bar when it began. More than once, he’d gotten himself off in the hotel shower before bed, imagining that James was there, behind him, inside him, and no nightmares followed. He’d let Barty fuck his face, once, he’d let the man push his head down until he cried, but there were no phantom hands on his skin, no cuffs on his wrists, no stale beer breath on his neck. He knew they’d come back—they always did—but as he got to know James, he could think about sex with James again without panicking.
As he got ready for the concert, Regulus thought about James in the audience, and how, now that he knew exactly how much James wanted him, he could taunt him into oblivion.
“Outfits are here!” Pandora announced, entering the room with four garment bags. She handed them out and Regulus peered inside his, curious as to what color they’d be wearing this time. Something at the bottom of the bag caught his eye—
“ Pandora! ” Regulus hissed, holding up a lacy thong with his pointer finger.
Pandora, who was half-dressed across the room, winked. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, y’know,” she said, and Evan laughed.
Barty groaned. “Potter should count his days,” he teased, watching Regulus like a hawk as the younger man slipped the lacy number over his thighs and pulled the strings to sit on his hips.
“Did you get me low rise pants? ” Regulus squawked, sending Pandora the nastiest glare he could muster.
Pandora stepped over to him and batted his hands away from the zipper of his pants, adjusting the strings of the thong so they sat higher than the pants did. She kneeled and fished eyelash glue from her bag and dabbed some under the thong to keep it in place. Evil genius .
“And a crop top, babe,” she said, nodding when Regulus pulled it on. “We’ll help with the makeup on your back, okay? You don’t have to go out there feeling uncomfortable or exposed. I brought you another outfit if, at any time, you want to switch.”
Regulus nodded and held up his shirt to start on the scar coverup process. His outfit was hot, he had to admit, and once the scars were hidden, he had no problem wearing it onstage. Especially if James was in the audience.
Once his makeup was done, Regulus allowed himself a look in the mirror. He liked what he saw, and Barty did too, if his hands already on Regulus’ waist were any indication.
“Save it for the stage, Barty,” Regulus said, smirking when Barty rolled his eyes.
“Is everyone still good with the choreography and the additional songs? Reggie, you’re doing your French song again, and Pandora, we have the one with your solos, yeah?” Barty asked, eyeing everyone closely. Pandora flashed a smile and held two thumbs up.
Evan and Regulus copied the motion, and Evan fished four shot glasses out of his bag. “One before we go out there. Together.”
Pandora rolled her eyes but didn’t object, so he poured them out and gave a countdown. They knocked them back together and traded salutes, heading backstage.