Finally Clean

The flat is presumably empty when Regulus returns. He opens the door slowly, peeking his head inside before entering. The key to the apartment feels foreign in his hand. So does walking into somebody else’s flat that he’s taking up space in. The lights are out, and the sun is setting, casting an orange hue around the living room. Regulus fumbles with the light switches, still not entirely sure which is which until the living room and the kitchen are adequately lit. 

"Fuck!" A voice yelps from the kitchen suddenly. Regulus flinches back. He didn't know anybody else would be here. Assuming they were all working or out together without him.

“Hello?” Regulus calls out, not wanting to move from where his feet are stuck to the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t know anybody else was home.” He still stays put. 

“Reggie?” The voice calls back, and instantly, Regulus’ cheeks flush when he recognizes who it is. James. 

“James?” He says, now not afraid to maneuver around the house until he comes into the kitchen. 

James is sitting on the kitchen island, his legs crossed in front of him. A sweet smell emits from the kitchen, and Regulus identifies it as baking something.

“Reg!” James exclaims, jumping up from the counter and running over to the shorter boy. “Where the hell did you go all day?” Bashfully, Regulus scratched his neck. 

“I went to the gym…” Regulus wasn’t sure why he found it hard to lie to James. He had no clue why. Every time he was around the taller boy, all his secrets seemed to spill from his thin, tragic lips. James stayed quiet momentarily before letting a deep sigh fall from his chest. 

But instead of being mad and yelling, like Regulus thought he was going to. James just laughed a little. “What happened to taking it easy?” He asked kindly. The words rolled off his tongue like honey, and Regulus was enchanted. 

Regulus’ face flushes, and he curses himself for allowing his walls to crash down just at the sight of James Potter. 

“Yeah, uh. You know how things are sometimes.” Regulus figures this answer will suffice as James nods in agreement before taking a small puff of a joint James had hidden behind his ear. This only slightly surprised Regulus; he figured that James would pick up the habit. Especially since Potter spends so much time around Sirius. “You smoke?” Regulus asks. He isn’t sure why, but he knows he wants the story. Maybe it’s just the idea of learning, knowing something so small and innocent about James. Perhaps something nobody else knows. That makes his insides melt. 

“Yeah, just a nasty habit I picked up.” James doesn’t further explain as he motions to hand the spliff to Regulus, who declines.

“Fags?” Regulus questions and the name burns on his mouth as he waits for an answer. His fingers itching to take the spliff from James. But he won’t.  

James shakes his head no. “No, just weed.”

Regulus hums and pulls his carton of cigarettes out from his pocket. He lights it then and there, not caring about potentially hot-boxing the kitchen. 

James’ eyes widened in surprise. “You smoke?” Regulus laughs a full-hearted laugh. It shakes his body for a moment. Of course, James wouldn’t think Regulus smokes. Of course, nobody would ever imagine Sirius’ innocent baby brother doing something as vile as smoking.

“Yes James. Same as you I suppose. Picked it up and couldn’t stop.” 

“Well you should, it’s really bad for you.” 

“Says you.” Regulus shoots him a humorous look. 

“Weeds from the Earth, Love. There is no harm in utilizing the Earth’s gifts.” James giggles. The oven starts beeping violently, making Regulus jump and almost lose his cigarette. “Just the brownies,” James says. 

Love. The word swirls around Regulus' stomach like a virus, and he thinks he might be sick. The ashy taste in his mouth is no longer endearing but suddenly sickening. Regulus knows James didn't mean anything by it. 1. James is high out of his mind and probably doesn't even know what he is saying. 2. It's James Potter he says shit like this to everybody, it's just who he is. He pumps the brakes on all these thoughts that will send him spiraling as James pulls the brownies out of the oven. 

“Brownies?” Regulus asks, laughing to himself. That feeling is then again ruined as the sweet scent fills his lungs, and he decides he wants one. No, a voice tells him. He recognizes the tone as his mother, Barty, and father. 

“Yeah, want one?” James asks back. He dropped the pan on the oven counter and cursed as he nursed a burnt finger. “Fuck,” 

Regulus jumps over to James’ side, immediately taking his burnt finger and throwing it under the cold water. “You okay?” Regulus uses this as an excuse to get the heat off him. He and James hold eye contact.

“Yeah. Thanks.” James smiles. Maybe it’s the secondhand smoke getting to Regulus’ head, but he swears he can feel the tension seeping into his body. He feels James’ eyes on him, burning into his soul, taking every ounce of his respect and throwing it out the window. 

Regulus can’t think of anything to say back, so they stay there. Together. Until a loud banging of the door breaks their silence. 

"Reggie!!" Sirius booms and Remus silently follows with a smile on his face. Regulus jumps and practically shoves James away from him so they are at arm's length. "Woah, what'd I walk in on?" Sirius jokes, and Regulus's face flushes. 

“Brownies.” James giggles, his eyes still red, and Regulus remembers he’s still high. That’s why he had looked so deep into his eyes, because of the weed. 

“Sounds delightful.” Remus says before taking a knife and cutting into the pan. 

“Special brownies, Moons.” James reminds him, and Remus laughs and then cuts himself a bigger slice. Sirius does the same. Peter comes home soon after and indulges in the same weed brownies as the first. They all lie together in the living room, Regulus, who hasn’t had a brownie. He sits with his knees to his chest against the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible. 

Peter and James are babbling over nonsense near the vinyl spinner, probably arguing over which they should spin. Sirius is splayed over Remus’ lap, smoking the rest of the James spliff, handing it off to his boyfriend ever hit or so. Regulus sits back and takes it all in, unsure how to act in these settings. 

“Reggie.” Sirius coughs out, Regulus whips his head around. 

“Yeah Sirius?” Regulus answers, slowly bringing his knees down from in front of him.

“Have you had a hit yet?” He extends his hand, giving the last of the blunt to Regulus. 

“I don’t uh smoke weed.” Regulus says bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks though.” 

“That’s why I made brownies!” James laughs, running from the record player, which is now playing ABBA’s golden hits. James grabs the last brownie and shoves it into Regulus’ hand. 

“Uhhh.” All Regulus can muster as he looks from Sirius to James, to Peter, to Remus, who nods his head calmly as if to reassure him it’s okay. Regulus slowly chews on the brownie. Letting the taste bloom in his mouth. It’s been years since he has allowed himself something like this. “It’s so good.” He praises James’s face, which lights up, and his eyes are warm. Maybe the weed going into his system makes him feel so warm. Or perhaps it’s the fact that James is sitting so damn close to him. 

The rest of the night plays out in a series of events. Somehow, another joint is rolled. Somehow, Regulus was convinced to hit it many times to the point where he only remembers snippets of the night. This ended with Regulus sitting on the couch with his legs on James’ lap, and they all giggled over some random TLC show. 

“So Reggie, how’ve you been?” Peter ponders, passing the spliff back around. Regulus freezes; even in this state, he knows not to share too much. 

“Been well, as well as I could manage.” Is all he says. His mouth feels dry, and the humor is leaving his lungs and is turning sour. 

"How's Barty?" Sirius asks. Regulus' body goes cold. And he tenses under James. Potter feels it. "Haven't heard anything about him recently. Where's he around?" 

Regulus panics, unable to tell his older brother about the embarrassing abuse he suffered. James looks over to Regulus, knowing in his eyes. Regulus remembers that night, telling James all his secrets. Crying in his arms. The shame. The embarrassment. Never again. Regulus pulls his legs from James’ lap, pulling them back up against his chest. Covering himself. 

“We broke up,” Regulus says cautiously. The weed in his system wants to confess. The weed intends to tell his brother everything. I was so bad, Sirius, I couldn’t be good enough. He hated me. Nothing I did was good enough, and It’s all my fault. Now I have nobody. “Creative differences.” He smiles. Then, he gets up and excuses himself to bed. 

His room is quiet, dark, and lonely. Familiar. He sinks into the feeling of being by himself and lets it fill his body until the warm fuzziness of family has faded away to nothing. And he’s cold. And hungry. Regulus is pretty sure he’s still high because the room is still spinning. So he carefully puts on pajamas and lies on his back in bed. He wants the blankets to swallow him whole and take him away from this mess. But then again, there is no mess. Is there? Barty is gone. His old life is gone. This is called a fresh start, Regulus figures. I never asked for this. He finds himself saying that a lot these days. Regulus never asked to be put in this situation. He never asked for a fresh start because he never wanted one. He was comfortable. Where he was before, he knew what to expect from each day. Knew how it would begin and how it would end. 

Hours go by, maybe it’s minutes, seconds even. Regulus can’t tell. 

“Knock knock.” A voice says outside his door before softly knocking twice. Who the fuck says knock knock. Regulus scoffs, James. 

He winces before answering. “Come in.” He really shouldn’t, that’s a bad choice, and he knows it. The door creaks open, and rest assured, James Potter pokes his head in. 

“Regulus?” He asks, as if anybody else would be in that room. 

“Guilty, " he says, blowing out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He sits up in his bed, his back straightening unconsciously. Can I help you?” Maybe the phrase comes out harsher than he meant it, or maybe his brain knows talking to James alone right now is a bad idea and is trying to save him. 

James sneaks into the room softly, trying not to make much noise. Regulus guesses everybody else went to sleep. “Everyone else went to bed, I don’t wanna wake them up,” James confirms with a smile. And sits himself on the edge of Regulus’ bed. “I wanted to see if you were okay…” James says cautiously. 

Regulus puts on his best show of acting confused. “Uh yeah, I’m fine. Why?” Thank God the room is dark enough to conceal Regulus’s face, which is turning a hot pink as he speaks. 

“Just because of, like, you know… The whole Barty thing.” He whispers the name Barty like it’s a bad word. Like it’s the worst name possible. Regulus wants to break, fall apart into James’ arms, and just cry again. But that’s weak. He already let his demeanor slide once, never again. 

“James, you don’t know me.” Regulus whispers, “I don’t know what you think you know, but just because I told you some shit that night at the hospital does not mean you get to harass me like this for information.” Regulus spits his words like fire, quickly turning his words more mean, more sour to hide his genuine emotions. “I don’t know if Sirius is putting you up to this for information, but you don’t get to come here and expect me to tell you my life. You don’t fucking know me!” The last part comes out a little louder than intended, and for a moment, he’s scared. He woke the house, woke the block. He woke the world with anger seeping through his veins; anger is the only thing that warms him. 

James looks taken aback. Almost hurt. “Sirius isn’t putting me up to this. I care about your well-being, Regulus.” James says back, “I’m also not expecting anything; I just thought that after all these years, you’d want a fucking break from all the bullshit and maybe just wanted a fucking friend.” James gets up from the bed, and Regulus can feel his building concern. “If you don’t wanna tell me, fine, but don’t act like a dick. I don’t know you know you, but I know enough that you aren’t a complete ice queen dickhead.” And that’s all. James leaves, all but slamming the door behind him. And Regulus regrets it all. He never should have fucking smoked. He never should have come here in the first place. 

You don't know how much I need you, James. Is his last thought before drifting to a peace-less sleep.