I don't smoke.
James lit the cigarette, the burning embers burning brightly in the dark sky. He leaned on the railing of the astronomy tower, his bag haphazardly strewn aside on the floor next to him. The marauders' map, cigarettes, a muggle lighter he got when he went home a few years back and the few other things he hadn't bothered to take out in his haste.
He only owned two bags, his quidditch bag and his school one. A duffel bag and larger tote bag. He didn't need any others. He felt bad, he felt horrible spending his parents hard earned money on things he didn't need. He didn't feel the need to buy tons of items that he won't ever use. He felt bad. He didn't deserve the fruit his parents' hard work brought. The fruit of their labors.
He didn't do anything to deserve it. He was the golden heartthrob boy. He passed his classes with ease, although he studied in private. The late nights where he didn't actually fall asleep. Going days without sleeping and crashing at 7 or 8 pm. No one ever thought different, no one noticed the eyebags, dark spots sunken into his face. No one noticed his sluggish movements ever so often, when he got so tired he forgot all the practice he had at hiding it.
He didn't create potions like his father, he wasn't gentle and kind like his mother. Sure, he was kind. If you were to ask anyone, save for his targeted slytherins who the kindest kid in the school was? It’d always be James Potter. He didn't think before his actions. The most he got was when he zoned out while studying in the early morning, thinking of how his day was going to go.
He didn't deserve them. They didn't deserve a son that was always pranking people. They didn't deserve 1 year James, who shot hexes at any slytherin that was mean to someone. No one did. No one deserved someone as shitty as James. His parents didn't need the extra mouth to feed.
James had no right to feel this sad. His life was absolutely perfect. He never was abused like his best friend. James didn't show up on his bestfriends door, crucioed more times than he could count, beaten black and blue and barely alive. He didn't become a monster every month, resulting in major chronic pain. He would never tell his friends that to his face but the werewolf was a monster.
James envied them. He hated every thought but he envied them. He hated how Sirius had a reason to get moody. To shake every time the wrong word was said. To have the unrestrainable fear of being harmed every time he accidentally did something wrong. He didn't have a reason to not want to get out of bed. His bones didn't rattle. His hands did not shake while taking notes.
Well. His hands did shake. His hands shook violently when he tried to write most days. He wondered if it was from the lack of sleep. The sleep he didn't deserve. The sleep was always just outside of his reach, no matter how close he felt to passing out.
James didn't feel the same things his friends did.
Good friends shouldnt envy their friends.
James had no right to the deep envy that curled inside of him every time one of his friends struggled. The disgusting, snake-like emotion crawling out of him. Taking his breath and thoughts away. Greedily feeding on everything he couldn't say. Regurgitating his bad thoughts in a tenfold.
The cigarette finished. He threw it to the ground, stomping on it with his red converse and kicking it off the balcony. Briefly thinking of Sirius.
Sirius.
Oh Sirius. His beloved best friend. They’d become inseparable in 1st year. Sirius clinging desperately to something good. They matured together, grew together, became each other's first kiss to learn and have the only peace that their first kiss would never be lost to a cheating bastard. Sirius didn't deserve James. When Sirius showed up on his doorstep, black and blue and shaking. James hated the envy that rose in him, the same demon.
His worry and envious nature fought, wishing he could have a reason to feel the way he did. But he didn't.
So he threw himself in deep.
If you need to be mean, be mean to me.
He cared for his friends. He cared for his friends too much. He sacrificed himself for his friends. He barely ate, focusing on making sure Sirius and Peter and Remus and everyone else nearby ate. He focused on Remus and Sirius’ academics. Forcing his hands to steady and take notes, knowing Remus either wouldn't be able to attend or his hands shook too much to write. And for Sirius, who he knew was not paying attention.
“Potter?” came a voice from behind him. Pure shock radiated from the voice, if he listened close enough maybe even disgust. Not much to his surprise. Anyone would be disgusted if they found James Potter smoking cigarettes on the astronomy tower at midnight.
James did not respond. Usually, if he was caught, he’d throw the cigarette off the balcony and pretend it never happened. Not that he had ever been caught, just the plan he hatched in his mind. The what if of his situation.
“Potter,” the voice rung out again. Louder. It was louder, closer even. He flinched, so stuck in his mind he didn't even notice the man moving. Man? He barely even recognized the voice.
“Potter!” It shrieked. Not it, Regulus. His mind supplied helpfully.
Oh.
Oh.
Regulus came to the astronomy tower, and he was calling James’ name. His voice was loud, extremely loud. He didn't like it, regulus could wake someone up.
“Regulus,” James’ voice finally worked. It seemed far away, he didn't know that was possible. Like he was underwater. He felt the man swipe the cigarette out of his mouth before he saw it. He watched the cigarette fall off the tower pathetically.
“You shouldnt be smoking. What is up with you?”
James didn't have the energy to poke a joke, to make one of his regular quips, something along the lines of ‘awh! You really do care about me, Reggie.’ He was exhausted, in some ways he didn't think possible.
“That was mean,” came his pathetic reply. He faintly heard Regulus suck in a short breath. He didn't care. Not anymore. Faintly, he could almost hear Regulus’ brain rebooting, trying to figure out how to respond to this seemingly empty version of James. A James that seemed as if his strings were cut, a pathetic difference from the golden boy, sun personified man he was used to.
“I didn't know you were coming up here tonight.”
James’ voice was somber, devoid of life even. There was an unspoken rule between them, after the first few times they ran into each other it formed. Certain days were the days Regulus was allowed to come to the astronomy tower, and James had the other. Lately, James came every night. He wondered if he just came late enough to miss the younger.
“Potter, it's a Wednesday night.”
He just stated that fact, like it meant something to James anymore. He nodded dumbly, not meeting the sharp gaze he knew was burning holes into his skin. It was psychologically painful. Not a searing pain like when he pressed burning cigarettes into his skin, just to feel something. He didn't have the energy to fight, just inevitably debating on whether it was a good idea to wander about the castle.
“Sorry. I can leave if you like.”
He felt Regulus shake his head, somehow the man had gotten close enough that he could feel Regulus’ overgrown hair push wind against his face. “No need,” came his stupidly simple reply. James didn't want to look at him. He didn't want to look at the face of the man he loved for years. The man that broke his heart when James realized Regulus could only act civil to him in private. That it took the rare accidental late night meetup for Regulus to just well, act human.
“Look at me, James.”
James paused, why? Why was Regulus telling him, hell. Demanding for him to look at him. He didn't want to look at Regulus, his pale features and dark hair. He was so used to being able to see someones every emotion that the painfully stoic face of Regulus Black gave him a headache.
He paused, not listening to the younger. Not until he felt a soft hand reach his chin. Regulus guided his face gently, forcing the man to look at him. They were almost the same height, even if Regulus was still, and always will be a few inches shorter than him.
“Look at me, James.” came his voice again. Finally, James made eye contact. There was worry , in Regulus’ eyes. Why was there worry? It didn't make sense to james. For once, James was confused.
“What's wrong?” Somehow, James got even more confused. If James was normal, he’d be ecstatic, his genuine crush touching his cheeks, showing some emotions for once. But now? James wanted to run. He wanted to flee, hell, jump off that tower. Jump over the railing and to his demise just to escape.
“Just tired, Regulus. You understand, right?” was his response, it was dry. Somber and pathetic. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. He was tired, just in multiple different ways and several other things going on in him. When was the last time he ate a full meal? What about sleep?
Regulus pursed his lips, not quite believing James' response. “James.” he prodded, “Are you sure?”
James nodded minutely, Regulus’ worry only grew. The younger took in a sharp breath, decided ‘fuck it’ and went for it.
James could hear the small breath intake, but he wasn't expecting the sudden rush of words Regulus let out.
“James, I'm going to be honest, you don't seem okay. And that's worrying. I don't like that. It's worrying. I think I'm in love with you and that notion terrifies me. It scares me to think that I fell for you , especially. But- i can't hide this, i've managed for months now but i feel like a pitcher, continuously filled with water and eventually will overflow. This is my overflow, I'm in love with you, James.”
James paused, wait. Regulus is in love with him? It seems impossible. Maybe not, though. He didn't know. Suddenly, he remembered that he was actively looking at Regulus, the hand on James chin had fallen. He had an anxious face on, as if James' opinion was the survival of his first born child. Before he knew it, words were falling out of James' mouth.
“I'm in love with you too, regulus.”
The air was palpable, Regulus relaxed immediately, and in some miraculously out of character move, Regulus hugged him. James hugged back, though rather stiffly.
“Boyfriends?”
James nodded, “Boyfriends.”
Right now, nothing may be okay for him. All of his problems were still there, nothing but his love life was fixed, but that's okay. He has a lot of work to do, accepting his emotions, fixing his habits and maybe trying out the therapy Remus was talking about.
But right now, James thinks he could see a light forming at the end of this dark and gloomy tunnel.
Maybe now, James won't smoke.