Mattress
Is thirty minutes time enough? James doesn’t know. Right now he is struggling with keeping his own feet together and not stepping up the stairs to knock on Regulus’ door. And he is also troubled with the situation himself. Elliot was very… disturbing. The pain he was running from was laid on a silver tray for Regulus and his family to watch. To take care and assist a tray that would be forever on the centre table accumulating a thin layer of dust, a few pairs of eyes avoiding their contact. Because once it was there, once Elliot gave it to them, no one would have the courage to get rid of such a gift for a very long time. It was like getting rid of that ugly dish a very loved aunt gave you before she died. Your conscience could never.
However, James wasn’t sharing the feeling. Actually, he was very done with it. He wanted to be selfless, to put himself in his place, to remember he was there once, but the swings kept on getting him higher and higher, the sky was almost reachable, the rush was phenomenal, so why would he stop? Why would he leave them? The strength it took to keep his body up was the same that it took to take it off his inertia. The selfish thoughts were dominating his mind for a minute. He could be selfish sometimes, couldn’t he? Why is it only from him that people expected such perfection, such kindness and love? Yes, that is him, but he also is human, made of imperfections.
He liked to think his love for Regulus wasn’t a flaw, though. It expanded the better in James. It expanded the better in everyone. The knight in shiny armour was waiting at the old chariot, the enchanted prince, a shield big enough for two, but there wasn’t any road leading to a ballroom. Nothing that could get them out of this labyrinth of mixed feelings and cloudy skies. Isn’t that dumb?
If James only had a glimpse of this love in real life, not on a shattered mirror, maybe he would, maybe he could, maybe they… No. This is absolutely insane. James is okay now. Why would his heart look for trouble after so many years of hospitals to close up the wounds? They are closed now, and they will stay that way. Yes. Right.
Forty minutes is definitely enough, meaning Regulus is probably better now. James needs to check.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Effie softly muttered from her sofa across the one James was uneasily sitting on, Great Expectations from Charles Dickens opened on one of her hands, while the other held a glass of red wine. She didn’t even need to deviate her eyes from the book to know James was paralysed. Monty was also there, but taking a nap while his wife had her night read. He was spread along the couch, half of his shin out of the sofa, his head peacefully resting on Effie’s lap. She closed her book, putting it away while an overpowered James came back to his seat, tail tucked between legs.
Effie raised her eyebrows.
“You know where I was going.” James admitted, half acting like a grumpy toddler caught in the act, half not being able to keep his giggle in.
Effie nodded, a simple smile taking over her face. “I do, yeah.”
“So, can I go now?” James asked, already knowing the answer. He didn't even bother not getting comfortable. Soon.
Effie opened a full grin, followed by a smirk, “Soon.” She started using her now free hand to scratch Monty’s scalp. He was fully knocked out, getting to the step in his sleep he starts to snore very low and funny. It sounded like a troubled animal crying. When James kept quiet, she began to let her words of wisdom out. “Honey, do you see it?”
No. “See what?” He questioned back, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Oh, so we’re playing dumb, now.” She nodded again, her voice full of sarcasm in a way that gave James chills. Sarcasm and his mother aren’t a great pair. Actually, they’re a horrible pair. She said nothing after that.
James could only hold for a few seconds. “Fine. I don’t.” He admitted, shrugging and avoiding her eyes.
She doesn't understand. There isn’t a thing to see.
But how he wished she was right. He would love to be wrong here. He isn’t, though.
“Ah, honey.” She shook her head, disagreeing and taking a sip of the glass of wine in her hand. Simple as that. “Don’t you feel it?” Effie asked, like she was pleading for a single drop of hope in her son’s body.
“Me? Maybe. But that’s just it. Me.” He whispered, the pain slowly getting to dissipate in his veins, reaching all parts of his body. Wasn’t it supposed to be dead and buried years ago? Rotting and fading? So why is it fucking coming back? James shook his head, copying his mum’s exact movement, “No, I don't think I do.” He firmly stated, more trying to convince himself than his mother. This was a barrier that once he accepted, once he let it down, there was no coming back. There was no chance but to get drowned in the water. There was no chance of trying to swim or build it again. There was no strength left. The barrier would be down again in a few years. This, it was like smoking or having an addiction.
You have a taste.
You keep having more tastes.
You get addicted.
You try to get away. It’s hard.
But you do.
Years go by.
You’re okay.
And there it is again. The temptation.
If you have a taste again, one single taste, it’s over.
You’re addicted all over again.
This was what loving Regulus felt like. Admitting it was the taste. One taste and he is long gone.
Effie groaned. Out loud. Loud enough for his Father to wake up (he didn’t, though). “Don’t be stupid, James.” She rolled her eyes.
James was open-mouthed. What do you mean her smarty boy was stupid now?
She saw the look on his face and kept on going. “Managed to go through med school but can’t see the obvious. Tell me, hun, you know how to cross a road now, right?” He doesn’t. It’s a miracle he was never hit by a car. But she doesn’t know that. Sirius watches him like he’s a baby when they’re on the streets together and there’s no traffic lights. Whatever.
“Of course I do!”
She sighed, drinking another sip of wine. “Can’t even lie.”
“Mum!”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes again. The audacity! “Go on, but don’t be too invasive. Or dumb.” She breathed the last part, holding a laugh.
James shook his head, already getting up, but there was a smile on his face when he kissed his mother goodnight. “Okay then. Goodnight, mum. Love you.”
“Uhum. Love you, too. Now go, go, go.”
It has been an hour now.
James knocked on his door. Three knocks. It’s an okay amount of knocks, right? Or too much? Is James being too much right now?
“Do you think I’m too much sometimes?” Twelve-year-old James asked eleven year old Regulus out of nowhere. Actually, it wasn’t completely random. Earlier that day, James got scolded in history class. The teacher, a bald thirty-something, got tired of James’ incessant questioning. ‘Why this?’ ‘Why that?’ Why?’ ‘But why?’ Too many why’s got him tired. And annoyed. Yes, James admits he was asking some silly questions and interrupting too much, but the teacher just stopped answering James and said ‘Have you had your little pills today, James? God, stop being too much.’ It was funny, for the rest of the class, but the question kept ricocheting in his mind. So he went to talk to Regulus. He was too embarrassed to tell this to Peter and Sirius, but not to Regulus. Little James felt he might understand it more than his other friends. So he ran to the mini library they had in his home.
And how he was right.
At the time, both Reg and Sirius spent most of their days in the Potter manor, but did not live there officially. Regulus stopped reading the book he had in hands and raised his eyebrows at James. It was a poetry book, Only Dull People Are Brilliant At Breakfast, from Wilde. Reg always loved his poetry work. At the time, he still had blonde streaks and used big glasses to read. Eleven years old and he already had the confidence of a grown-up.
“Have you ever read the Alice in Wonderland books?” He asked James, looking at his eyes.
“No, but I’ve watched the movies.” James replied, confused.
“Great. Remember when the Mad Hatter told Alice: ‘You’re not the same as you were before. You were much more… much-ier. You’ve lost your muchness.’?”
“Now, I do.” James smiled.
“Then there’s the answer you didn’t ask for. There’s always people who’ll love your muchness or the lack of it. I love your muchness. Sirius does. Your parents do. All of your friends do. Don’t ever change.” Regulus smiled back.
“Thank you, Reggie.”
James soon let the thought go away, a tired voice inviting him in ‘come in.’
As soon as he entered the room and closed the door, he came across a big mess of sheets and someone buried between them. Regulus’ room looked the same as it did when they were younger. He didn’t spend much time here to change it in the past years. The walls were still a dark shade of blue filled with posters and poetry and book references and ripped pages of notebooks and everything. He had his own little stock of books in there, mostly on the nightstand. The desk looked as neat as always. The room itself looked very neat. His balcony doors were closed, but you could see the stars shining in the sky through the glass since the curtains were open. There was still a big vase there, with something green and bright contrasting with the tiny vase that was more in the covered part, holding one dried rose.
“Hey.” James greeted, sitting on the end of the bed.
“Hi.” Reggie smiled, but it didn’t look very honest. Did not look honest at all.
“I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay, because I know you aren’t.” James said, carefully kicking Regulus’ feet to the side, so he could fit himself horizontally on the end of the bed, half of his legs hanging out. Didn’t quite work, ‘cause Regulus soon relocated them to be on top of James’ thighs.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Regulus muttered, now a real smile floating in his lips.
“Oh, is that how it is?” James asked, surprised. “You know,” James started, sitting up. He put his hands in Regulus’ ankles. At first, it seemed like an act of care, maybe a massage. “I could just drown you in tickles right now.”
Regulus' eyes bulged as he swiftly tried to take them away from James' lap, which he couldn’t. “No, no, no, please.”
“Hummm, should I?”
“Yes.” Regulus sassily replied, glaring at James in a way he knows he always gets what he wants. Those damn grey eyes.
James smiled as he surrendered himself and got back to laying down. He could already see the smirk on Regulus’ face.
“Ah, that’s right, Mr. Look At Me I’m Strong, do everything I say.” He laughed, already establishing his feet back in James’ lap. He was wearing an awesome pair of Spider-Man socks. Even looked like the ones James owns.
“Strong, huh?” James asked, genuinely surprised by the nickname, casually involving his ankles in his hands.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “As if you don’t know you’re hot.”
“So you think I’m hot?” James smirked.
“Fuck off.”
James stopped staring at him, facing the ceiling instead. A playful tone still bouncing in his voice. “Well, you’ve never said it before.”
“Sure I did.” Regulus frowned.
How dare James doubt his word? He smiled to himself while Reg still had a furrow in between his eyebrows. James just breathed a small ‘uhum.’
“I did, ask Peter.” Regulus kicked his thigh.
James opened a big grin, turning his head to face him. “So you told Peter you think I’m hot, but never told me?”
“James. Fuck off.” Regulus pretended to be mad, but wasn’t able to hide the smile that was forming on his lips.
“No, but honestly now. Are you better?” Did I make the bad feelings go away for some time? Am I helping you? I wanna help you.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “After all this shit you pulled, how could I not?”
“I’m serious, Reg.”
“Yeah, I still feel shitty and guilty. But I’m somehow lighter. You helped, if that’s what you wanna know.” Regulus smiled, slightly kicking him again. “Thanks.”
James smiled back. “Whenever you need me.” His hands were still in Regulus’ ankles.
“James?”
“Hum?”
“Come here.”
And James did. Of course he did. He carefully crawled to lay on Regulus’ side, not sure of what to do and how to act. There was this hurricane of ardency heating up his body, full throttle on the larceny of James’ peace of mind. There was something about this man that James cannot comprehend. The seizure of belief that he just emanates in James’ delusions make him want it more, make James go and try and see and not drown. Only for him to wake up and see that it’s not there, that his Mum was not right this time, that it’s all in his head. All visions to cover up the misery his soul threw in the shallow dump of a broken drawer. Well, it was coming back for him to deal with now.
But not exactly right now, ‘cause the main question was right next to him. Not a single piece of skin touching, just two pairs of eyes looking at the ceiling and one heart running a marathon. Even if its brain did not acknowledge it.
Reg was the first to look away from the ceiling, his irises now facing James' profile. “Sleep here?” He whispered, a blush quickly taking over his cheeks when James turned to face him. “Not exactly here– I mean, um– like, would you sleep here but not on the bed, like maybe on a mattress on the floor? But only if you want, I just didn’t wanna sleep alone tonight—” He explained, interrupting himself and just sighing and covering his face with his hands, which he always did when he was embarrassed. Ahh, why is he so beautiful all the fucking time? It bothers James.
James carefully took Regulus hands off of his face, a sweet smile playing in his lips. “I’m gonna go take the mattress then, be right back.”
Reg raised his eyebrows. “You sure? I don’t have a problem with you sleeping here—” he tilted his head to the bed, “ — but I can’t get this guilt off of my head right now.”
“Reg. I understand. Don’t worry.” James smiled softly. His hand was still touching the one of Regulus’ that he just took off his head. It was true. James understands. He already feels amazing to be one, to be the one friend Regulus felt comfortable enough to talk and hold company.
James came back with said mattress only a few minutes later.