In A Rush

Flashback

June, 9 years ago. 

James woke up with a terrible headache. The back of his eyes were stinging and his brain was trying to explode itself out of his cranium. The sun is shining through the curtains they remembered to close last night, along with bright conversations coming from another room in the house, breaking his will to live right now. 

He swiftly closed his eyes after just opening them, covering his entire face with the pillow he slept cuddling with. He barely knew where he was or what time it was, but he knew he wanted to stay there and pray for the stars for the silence he was not getting. He gave up when the convos became louder and some groaning started to grow around him. Last night was, well, a blur. He remembers sneaking out, he remembers the ‘I miss you’, he remembers drinking his ass off and he remembers the guy trying to steal his best friend.

Moony, was it?

He was a really nice fellow, now that he’s putting some thought into it. Also, really pretty, James has to admit. Sirius and him got along really well, like genuinely befriended right away. It was his idea to go and talk to the guy, anyway. Makes sense they clicked.

But what really got to James was that simple, genuine ‘I miss you.’ He ran to the big rocks with that on his mind. He climbed those rocks, following his insane friend with it ricocheting in his mind, he stared at the waves with Reg’s eyes glued into his brain, only to close his own and see him. A ghost haunting a cinema, one specific movie on repeat, the images fading away with time in that empty, flooded room. Moony was talking about waves and the sky, taking James to a whole another world, where the blue dimmed into the happiest grey he’s ever seen, memories bashing reality away, those three words echoing in his private wasteland with the force of a national anthem.

His national anthem. Right there. In another universe, in a small piece of land, his roof of sand protected his dreadful memories, those that sparkled tiny lights on a pitch-black venue. 

But James is over it. 

Or he is pretending he is over losing those big blue eyes. A dead poem with a violated grave, got burnt bones but it’s still a haunting spirit. Fake it till you make it, right? Except James’ back hurts with the weight of a lie he is trying to rub under the mattress of venom he made for himself. Everybody knows he’s still aching. Everybody but himself chooses to give it time. Acquire step by step, win by win, second by second. Be that as it may, James can’t quite reach such evolution in himself. He is desperate to give and dispose of all this hurt that is eating him whole, dragging his soul away from himself, living with his part-time phantom. 

He’s over it. 

But, he’s not. 

The dirt is reaching his neck, and this trap makes him fight harder and achieve less, looking for air in a quicksand hole, where physical strength is just not enough. 

He’s over it. 

But his heart still beats faster when he’s around him. His arms still long for touching his skin. His body yearns for the warmth of the one he lost. That’s what he gets for being so stupid. Wear your heart on your sleeve and get punched on the face twice a day for such idiocy. Yet for them, he is over it. Even if they don't believe in his poorly formulated lies, the act will still be going on.Until it’s not an act anymore. 

“Oh, look at them. Poor babies.” James heard someone he presumes is his Vovó sweetly observe from somewhere close. He can hear the mock in her voice. 

A sassy voice replied, “That’s what they get from drinking three whole bottles alone until five a.m.” Regulus scoffed, exasperated with their attitude last night.

“Quite bold if you ask me.” She added, sounding delighted.

“You do the honors?” James could hear the smirk on Regulus’ voice. Ah, he really loves to see other people in pain. 

Malou laughed, “of course, dear. BOYS!!!!” She screamed, making everyone jump in their respective beds. Even James, who had it coming. Latina grandmas are for the brave. 

James opened his eyes to see his vovó and reg cracking up from where they stood, watching the three of them struggle to wake up and be alive at the moment. 

“We’re awake, we’re awake, we’re awake!” Sirius began to talk, his hands up in a surrender gesture, but his eyes still closed. 

“Well, good morning my beautiful Malou.” Pete started, getting up to go hug her. Honestly, James swears he only does it to piss him off. “You know I love you, but now I’m not so sure you love me back!” He said in a flirty voice, pouting towards her. 

“Of course I do, honey.” She giggled, offering him a cup of water and some aspirin, James presumes. 

Thank god for his vovó. Aspirin would save him right now. “Ah, you’re an angel, vó.” He smiled towards her, also getting up, causing Regulus to bite his cheeks like he was holding back a laugh. Huh. 

“Sorry, baby.” His grandma deflated a little. “Yours and Sirius’ are in the kitchen. Go there to take it.”

Of course. When Peter is around he is no longer the favorite grandson. 

“Kitchen?” Sirius murmured, still sat up with his eyes closed, probably lost in between reality and dreams. 

Malou shook her head, trying not to laugh at them. “Kitchen, dear. Let’s go, huh? Lunch’s ready.” 

That quickly woke Sirius up. Lunch? No hangover will stop him from eating vovó Malou’s food.

…

“We should've taken Moony’s number or sumthin’” Sirius sighed as the four of them rested in the library after lunch. Actually,  James, Sirius and Peter were splashed in the fluffy armchairs while Regulus was looking into books. According to him, incredible books, lots of Brazilian works he wants to check (he doesn’t speak Portuguese).

“Who's moony?” Reg asked while checking a book James identified as one of Clarice Lispector works. Amazing writer. 

“A friend we met yesterday, we’re probably meeting again today, though.” Sirius explained laying upside down on his armchair and throwing paper clips in the air for him to catch before they hit the ground. 

“You're gonna love him,” Peter chanted. 

“Whatever,” Regulus rolled his eyes pretending to be annoyed, but there was something in his eyes that told James the exact opposite. The shine of his sassy remarks was missing like the other part of his smile that glistened like the beautiful fall of water off a high cliff, contrasting with the light of the sun hitting and warming it up. “I'm not going.”

“Why?!” Sirius sat up straight, kind of mad at what James assumed was his brother ditching on them again, stopping with the paper clips, now on the inside of his closed fist. 

“Um? Book, beach and Jo.” He shook the book in his hands and left the room with a glare directed to Sirius. C’mon, everybody knows Reg likes to read on the beach with Vovô after lunch. It was like their thing. And later he would come and have tea with Vovó. He just enjoyed time with them. 

Or without you. 

Sirius buffed. “I swear to god, this guy is either a big time grandpa trapped in a young body or he hates us.” 

“He's your brother. Don't say that like it's an insult.” James blurted out. But apparently Sirius was moody enough to have a comeback. 

“You know, James. If you want us to believe the act, you should probably act like it.” He snapped. 

“What did you just say?” James questioned, but he heard what Sirius said loud and clear. 

Peter looked like he'd seen a ghost. “Guys…” he warned. 

Both Sirius and James glared at him, eyes spitting fire combining with the rage only hurt teenagers could share. “Pete, out. Now.” One of them said, calmly but not calm enough. 

“Say it again, please.” James snapped back after Peter left the room with a sad smile stamped on his face. 

“I said, if you really want us to believe this shitty thing you're pulling up, maybe you shouldn't get so defensive when we talk about him.” Sirius calmly said in a low voice, so other people wouldn’t hear.

“Oh! Okay then! I’m sorry if my damn feelings are bothering the fuck out of you! In case you didn’t know, I can’t fucking control them!” James hissed.

Sirius sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “No, James. that's not it. All I'm saying is you are trapping yourself way too much in this… illusion.” He softened his voice. “We know you're not okay. you can't hide this shit from us. It's just… we wanna see you better and you won't get better if you're stuck in this act that you are. You can be yourself around us, you know it. Even your sad self. Your depressed and broken self—” James frowns. “ —no, I'm serious. You can be torn apart in front of us too, we are your friends and we're here to help you through it. We gave you time. We gave you space. It didn't work. So now you have to let us in, so we can try to take a different look at things. You're never gonna get better if you don't let these bad feelings out. We're here for you.”

James wanted to open his mouth and let the words out, but there was nothing. Nothing he really wanted to say. It hurt so much hearing all of this. It hurt knowing it was all truth, because it is better to pretend, to ignore and to let it go. Sirius took his silence as a cue to speak more. 

“I know my brother was a dick to you, and I know you might be afraid to talk those feelings down to me — to both of us,” he referred to Peter in the other room. “ — because we love him. But we also love you. Deeply. You can talk shit about him if you want, it's okay. It's fair.”

“I would never.” James breathed.

“I know! Because you love him, too. And I know you, you can't turn or mask love into hatred even if you wanted.” James nodded and kept on doing so. “And its summer for fucks sake!” Sirius laughed. “Now's the chance, the perfect time to work on this, let the dark out and welcome the light. You need to get tan, you're pale.” Sirius smirked, provoking.

“Am not!” James smiled, aghast.

“Maybe not, but this is your time of the year. You love tanning, we need to go and fucking tan! Let's go to bars and night outs, you need to kiss other people and experience new things, maybe get a summer love or black out drunk on the beach! But we need to!”

Yes. He needs to. They need to. 

“Okay, let’s go out.” James gave up, a huge smile across his face.  

“Finally. We could go to the bar across the street tonight, the one in the corner.”

“Yeah.”

Regulus’ pov

“All of that because of me. He's like that because of me.” Regulus sighed, dropping the cup he was using to hear the conversation through the wall. Peter entered their room after both James and Sirius dumped him from the library to talk, Regulus was jumped already trying to hear their chat, only to be joined by a very curious Peter.

Kiss other people. 

Have a summer love.

“I don’t like it, not in the slightest, but I don't have a choice.” He voiced exactly what he thought to Peter. tThey were just like that. A bond that no one could explain how surged or why it worked out so well, but it just did. Peter knew absolutely everything Reg was afraid to speak aloud and his deepest thoughts. Regulus just found someone worth trust in him. 

Peter raised his eyebrows. He knew everything, He knew how, he knew why. He didn’t agree. He expressed it and advised Regulus. But his mind was already made. “You do. And you know it.”

“No, Pete. I don't. It was my fault. All of that.” Regulus looked away, kinda embarrassed about his place in the whole situation. The consequence of his actions. “Is he depressed?”

“Don't flatter yourself, Reggie.” Peter smiled, shaking his head. That’s what Regulus liked about him the most. He is always honest. even if the truth hurts a little, he won’t hide it or mask it from him. “Depression is way deeper than a rejected love,” Pete explained, kinda scolding Regulus. 

“I don't know! He just seems down.”

Peter nodded. “He is. He got his heart broken. Out of the blue.” He said the last part with a different voice.

Regulus knew exactly what it meant, but he had already gone through it a thousand times in his own head.“Please, don't.”

Peter sighed, giving up. “I know, I know.”

“I can't even look at him. Can’t even be in the same room. I shouldn't have even come here.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Peter stopped him, making a face. That face he does when he completely disagrees with someone, ready to enter a heavy debate. Regulus watched too many of those at family dinners in his house, when his father brings up politics. “No.” He affirmed hardly. “You're family, too. This break up wasn't the end of that.”

Regulus rolled his eyes at Pete’s choice of words, but he kind of giggled internally at the thought. “We weren't even dating.” he said like he was annoyed at the presumption. But Peter knew way too much. Even when Regulus tries to hide or mask that he doesn’t care about his choice by habit, it doesn’t matter. Because he already told Pete everything. 

“You sure?”

“He didn't ask.” Regulus shrugged. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “He was waiting for more real dates, you had barely one.’

“Right.” Regulus sassily stated like he didn’t believe his words.

“I’m serious. He wanted to take you out to that fancy japanese, to the theatres, to a garden something, and bla bla bla, and then he would ask you, on June 12th if i'm right.”

“June 12th?” This surprised Regulus. All of it. This startle must’ve been stamped on his face cause Peter did that thing with his eyebrows proving that ‘he was right and that Regulus made the wrong choice’ again.

“It’s Brazilian Valentine’s day.” He explained. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, matching Regulus’ melancholia. “But you don't know that!” 

“I don't?” Regulus grimaced, understanding when Peter flashed him a look. “Right, I don't.”

“You know, I was also scared…” Regulus started, after a minute of silence. 

“Scared?”

Regulus blushed against his damn will. “Um. Of sex. That's what boyfriends do, right?” He rambled, speaking very fast. 

“Regulus…” 

Regulus was already trying to crawl out of his skin. It didn’t feel like mockery, especially since it was Peter he was talking to, but it also was embarrassing. Very embarrassing. “I don’t fucking know! I have never interacted with another boy’s – uhm – thing before.”

Peter laughed. Danm him. Idiot. Dickhead. “You know you can say the word right? Cock, Dick, Nob, Prick, Penis…”

Regulus sighed. Honestly, he doesn’t even know how he manages to keep this friendship with a fucking toddler! “Peter. Stop. I'm serious. And just so you know, not all boys have cocks.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But I'm assuming we're talking about a boy that has one,” he smirked. 

Humbling. This is humbling. “Stop. And stop smiling like you’ve seen it.”

“Unfortunately, I did, once.”

“YOU WHAT?” he said, quickly covering his mouth right after. He caught the glimpse of the knowing smile Peter held in his lips. 

“One day the three of us were going out, — that time you were traveling with Effie, if I remember it right — I arrived at your place, and was waiting for the dickhead to finish his shower in his room while your brother was convincing Monty to take us to the place. Then boom. He opens the damn bathroom door with nothing on. I was like Phoebe ‘MY EYES, MY EYES!’ Never waited for the idiot in his bedroom ever again.”

“Oh my god.” Regulus shook his head, burying his face in his hands for a second. 

“Yes,” Pete sighed, agreeing with Regulus’ lack of words. “But you know, you would have been a very lucky man," he smirked again. 

“PETE!”

He put his arms up in a surrender gesture. “I'm just telling the truth.”

“I don't wanna know!”

“Okay, then.”

“So, was it big?”

Peter cracked up in laughter, only stopping when Regulus glared at him, shooting knives with his eyes. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Hm.” Was the only observation Regulus made, too busy, looking at his own nails. 

Peter incorporated the big brother act that he so enjoyed again. “Okay. But that's not the point. Let's have ‘the talk’.” 

“No point. Effie gave me the talk about a month ago. It was horrible.” 

“but Effie isn't a sixteen year old adult.” He debated. 

“Teenager.” Regulus corrected, annoyed. 

“Whatever. My point is: sex is a very, very intimate thing. Nobody, I repeat, nobody should ever pressure you into doing it. Not James, not Elliot. — don't look at me like that, I know you — you should do it when you're ready. It's something for you to feel pleasure in. You can't if you're doing it only to make your partner happy. Understood?”

“Yes. But I'm still scared. Does it hurt?”

“Well. Assuming you're talking about the part I'm assuming you're talking about, from what I've heard, you'll feel a little discomfort in the beginning, but your partner you prep you to the full penetration, you know? And always, I repeat, always wear protection and lube. Both are very important.”

“Okay.” Reg nodded, pretending to be annoyed, but he was really grateful to all the care and concern Pete was showing him. 

“Hum, let me see.” Pete murmured, thinking of more things he needed to say. “Also, there's dozens of other things you can do in sex. It's not all about that.”

“Okay… and what about casual sex?”

“Honestly? Me, Pete, your dear friend, I don’t recommend it.”

This surprised Regulus. Sex is the most normalised thing in this century. “Why?” He asked, trying to act not so shocked.

“I'm not saying you can’t do it or that it will make you a whore or something like that.” Peter disclaimed, obviously catching the chance in his friend’s voice. “It’s just, I personally think it's way too intimate to just give that to a stranger or someone you have no feelings for just for the high. Like, you have to keep in mind that the person is just using your body, there’s no feelings included, and you could get hurt in the process… I don't know.”

Makes sense, and also, very mature for a teenager. “I see your point,” Regulus nodded. The room next to theirs was silent. Regulus liked it. The sound of no sound at all. The door to a thousand thoughts and a thousand tears. The phantom of just wanting to be someone better, begging and begging to an empty sky for change, only to be not heard at all. Silence was loud for him. It cracked open wounds he already healed. Brought back feelings and anxiety and everything he just wished he could forget. Like right now. His mind is echoing their silence. Until Pete brought him back to reality. 

“Going back to James. He is just as new to this as you. And he would never pressure you. You know that?”

“I do, I do.” Reg smiled. “He would probably wait for ten years if needed. it was just something I had– have in mind.”

“Things going well with Elliot then?” Peter smirked, nudging Regulus with his elbow. 

“Shut up. But yes,” Regulus smiled, rolling his eyes, quickly mouthing a ‘don’t’ to Peter when he was about to open his mouth. 

“I didn't say a thing!”

“Anyway, have you ever had sex?”

“Straight to the point, then.” Peter smiled, kind of… proud? At the beginning of their friendship, Reg would’ve trouble communicating and just asking things. He was always afraid to be stepping up or too invasive. However, Peter always told him the same thing: ‘talk, ask, if i don’t wanna be part of the chat or don’t wanna answer, I won’t, little black’. The first thing he asked was for Peter to stop calling him that. 

“Uhum.” Regulus nodded, also proud of himself. “Now, spill.”

“Yeah. A few times. Last summer. Remember Ayla?” Pete’s face was already completely pink by now and it wasn’t from sunburn. 

Regulus was open-mouthed, his lips quickly forming a smile. “I knew it! you’d sneak out almost every night to make out with her by the rocks.”

“And I thought I was discreet,” He shook his head, the blush not leaving his cheeks as he fondly (let’s highlight that) remembered the times. “She was an amazing woman.”

Regulus chuckled.“I remember.”