Underwater
The next morning Regulus was writing in his bed. He journalled profusely, documenting everything that had ever happened to him. He never told anybody, too afraid they would come looking for the journals and read them. They were for him and him alone, and if anybody else read them he thought he’d die on the spot of pure embarrassment. He put everything in the journals.
That day he wrote about James. It wasn’t the first time he’d written about James; he’d detailed both of their trips to town, the time James walked in on Sirius and his girlfriend-of-the-week, and a handful of other instances worth mentioning. This time, though, he was documenting his personal thoughts on James.
He wrote about all the most pertinent components: His distinctly British attitude, love of all things edible, the way he threw his head back when he drank, the tan brown of his skin, the dimple on the left side of his face…
Regulus would combust if someone ever found these.
Bursting open the door was James himself, distinctly lacking in the shirt-department, tripping slightly over a book as it clattered to the floor from the table James had knocked the door into.
“Whoops. Sorry.” He picked up the book as Regulus scrambled to shove the journal underneath his pillow. James looked up before Regulus could pretend he’d been doing something else.
“Why aren’t you at the river with the others?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Regulus was speechless for a moment.
“I’m– I– I have an allergy.” Regulus stammered out. He mentally hit the palm of his hand to his head. Dumb.
“Me too,” It felt like James saw straight through him, and was reading Regulus's opinion on the flex of James’s back muscles from the inside of his skull. “We might have the same one.” He said, and not ‘ I know what you are,’ Like it felt.
Regulus wanted to scream, but instead he shrugged. They looked at one another for a long second.
“Want to go for a swim? Just the two of us?” James asked, breaking the tension like a white-hot knife.
“Later, maybe.”
Regulus still felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. It wasn’t the secret journal anymore, just James, here, in his room, that stole his ability to breathe right. He’d be a mess even if James had a shirt on, but the fact was: Regulus was eye-level, sitting on his bed, with James’s half naked body. He extended his arms and stretched his fingers in a desperate attempt to act casual.
“Let’s go now.” James smiled, grabbing his outstretched hand and let their hands fall together between them.
Regulus resisted the urge to look back at his pillow, where underneath a journal burned a hole in his mattress. He never left an entry halfway through a thought.
“Must we?”
James reached for his other hand and pulled Regulus up from his bed. James’ touch on his skin was like fire to gasoline, a chain reaction of hairs raised from his hands to the back of his neck, and a pink that crept up his neck to the top of his ears. Regulus bit the inside of his cheek hard.
“I’m going to change.” James grinned, dropping his hands instantly and disappearing through their shared bathroom.
Regulus immediately ripped the journal from underneath his pillow and slammed it against his bed. Stupid, stupid! His eyes stared at it for a beat, waiting for it to spontaneously explode into hundreds of unreadable scraps of paper.
It didn’t explode. He instead picked it back up, and flipped to the last page he’d been writing.
‘Lorsqu'il sourit, toute la pièce est plongée dans une douce lueur de joie enfantine, et personne ne peut faire autrement que de sourire et de se rappeler ce que c'est que d'aimer le monde…’
He tried to articulate it in english, imagining how he’d say it to James if he ever gathered the courage to reach for the things he wanted in life:
‘When you smile, the whole room is set in a soft glow of childlike joy, and nobody who sees you can do anything but smile back and remember what it is to love the world.’ Regulus thought.
He closed the journal so hard that it made a sound. It was impressive for a small paperback journal.
Regulus tucked it gingerly in its place, under his bed, hidden behind his old rugby gear, then trailed into the bathroom to grab his swim trunks that were drying over the shower curtain rod.
He didn’t get that far, though, because through the open door that led to James’s room was him, James, in all of his glory, as naked as the day he was born.
James.
Naked. Fully.
Regulus wished he could say he’d looked away immediately. James bent over and pulled up his swim trunks, and it wasn’t until he was about to turn around that Regulus could avert his gaze. He surged forward and yanked his trunks from their drying spot, then turned and did all he could to get out of the bathroom as fast as possible.
All James saw was a flash, and then the bathroom door on Regulus’s side slamming shut.
They walked a trail that followed along the river to Regulus’s favorite swimming spot. It was charming, one side guarded by flourishing olive trees, separating the winding river from the trail, and the opposite side was grass, knee-high, with hundreds of little yellow flowers that tickled your legs as you hiked past. There were sometimes horses that spotted throughout the breadth of the meadow. Sirius tried to ride one, once, and broke his leg by being kicked. He’d been in a cast for the better part of that year.
About halfway there, they’d heard Barty’s voice loud and a soft echo of laughing. They were splashing around at an eddy in the river. James had looked over, and Regulus—in a moment of confidence—grabbed his hand and dragged him along the trail farther. His friends were none-the-wiser.
Eventually they came upon an inlet with an even bigger eddy, fashioned with a big rock perfect for jumping off of. Regulus and Sirius had found this place together when they used to pretend to be pirates. They would explore ‘land-ho’, as they called it.
James ran right up to the edge of the river, so his toes were dipped into the water. He let out a surprised intake of breath at the temperature, shaking it off and stepping forward to get his whole feet in, trying to get used to the water. His eyes were honey-brown and twinkling as he beamed back at Regulus.
“Race you for who can dunk faster.” James said, shattering the trance Regulus had been caught in for a moment, then surged forward in that awkward water run, diving into the semi-shallow water and submerging himself. Regulus looked at him when he came up with a bored expression.
“What are you, twelve?” He said, taking a much more relaxed approach into the water, going slow but steady to not let himself falter at the ice cold water. He was up to his waist, moving his hands back and forth to make swirling patterns in the water.
James pouted and swiped a hand across the water to splash Regulus, who ducked, but got a faceful of water anyways.
“Merde!” Regulus yelped, whipping around and splashing James back.
James laughed maniacally, falling back slightly. Regulus sputtered out a laugh, trying to contain it. He soon devolved into a mess of laughing and splashing with James. Every splash found him deeper and deeper in the river, like James had some sort of magnetic pull.
When they recovered from their fits, James held his nose and went under. He saw James start to swim towards him before popping up only a couple inches away from him, his breath hot on Regulus’s wet skin. He held his own breath. James’s lips were right in front of him.
“You’re so small.” James said, using his hands to measure where the top of Regulus’s head hit on himself. His hand touched the top of his hair, lingering for a moment, then he moved it evenly towards himself, until his hands touched his lips. Regulus really didn’t think this was above-board of him.
James smiled. Neither of them had the nerve to speak, to move away, to lean forward. Instead, James smiled. Regulus just looked.
James’s eyes contained worlds more than just brown. They were honey, but there were also spots of impossibly dark brown, black, even, like specks of ink. There was a ring of greenish-yellow, too, like grass regaining its life in the springtime.
His one dimple was pronounced, as he smiled. Regulus kind of wanted to poke it. It gave his face an endearing quality of imperfectness that made him more beautiful than any sculpture. He wasn’t symmetrical, he was better. His eyes crinkled different amounts too, when he squinted.
Regulus wished he could take a picture, to look forever, to notice everything. Each second that passed was lost to the summer. Regulus could almost hear the timer in his head, counting down, whenever he was with James.
Regulus felt his stomach drop out from under him. His skin crawled like a hundred pairs of hands on him, begging to drag him under and drown him.
James was temporary. He was fleeting. He couldn’t stay. They’d said goodbye before they said hello. How could he be so stupid? He held his nose and submerged himself like James had moments before.
He swam underwater until he couldn’t anymore, then stood up and walked back to land.
James watched him go, standing alone in the middle of the eddy, freezing cold water making him feel a little bit weightless. Maybe it wasn’t the water.
***
Regulus held his razor to his jaw that evening, and watched the clean skin that trailed behind as he shaved his face. He made eye contact with himself in the mirror. It made him sick, looking at his own contemptible face.
He dropped the razor and it clattered at his feet, nicking his ankle on the way down. Red oozed down his leg, and all he could do was slide down the wall until he sat on the floor. He stared at the cabinets across from him. That’s how Sirius had found him.
“Hi Regulus.” Sirius said, pronouncing every syllable in his name the way Regulus liked it. He slid down beside him.
Regulus didn’t respond. He kept staring. He had no idea how long he’d been staring.
“Is it okay if I clean that up?” He asked, pointing to the blood starting to dry on his ankle and foot. Regulus didn’t say anything, but he gave a short and slow nod.
Sirius gingerly picked up the razor from the ground and set it up on the counter above them. In a cabinet were some first aid supplies that he used. Sirius was used to this from before Alphard, so was Regulus. Sometimes they had bad days, even now, when life should have been perfect. Nothing haunted you like a mum and dad.
“Did you think about them?” Sirius asked softly, trying to get him to talk and be distracted while he poured some alcohol on the cut.
Regulus looked over to him with a surprised look.
“It’s okay, I do too sometimes.” Sirius said. Regulus looked at him.
“Oh.” Regulus said.
Sirius wiped the dried blood and alcohol off gently with a small towel. Regulus sucked in.
“Sometimes I feel cursed.” He said. Sirius barked a dry laugh.
“Me too. Like everything is bound to fall apart as soon as I touch it.” Sirius added, shaking his head. Sirius got angry when he felt bad; Regulus usually just felt empty.
“Sometimes it feels like it starts to crumble before I can even get to it. Like anything even bound my way is doomed.” Regulus winced when Sirius pressed a bandage around his ankle.
“Yeah.” He sighed.
He leaned back again, done cleaning Regulus up. Regulus looked back at the cabinets with an unfocused gaze.
“Thank you.” I love you.
“Don’t worry about it, Regulus.” Sirius said.
I love you, Sirius.
“You’d do the same for me.” He added, turning away to look out the door of the bathroom.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Regulus watched Sirius as he got up and squeezed his shoulder affectionately before leaving through James’s room. Regulus sat on the floor, alone with a bandaged ankle. He put away the first aid supplies Sirius had left out. When he stood up, a bit wobbly as he caught himself on the counter, he made sure he didn’t look in the mirror. Behind Regulus as he left the bathroom, his and James’ swim trunks hung over the shower curtain rod.
***
James didn’t come to dinner that night.
“James?” Alphard asked Regulus, who shrugged, then turned to Sirius.
“Off and running.” Sirius shrugged too.
Kreacher was coming around the table to set down champagne glasses beside each of their plates. Tonight, they had guests coming.
“Take his place setting away, Kreacher. Thank you.” Alphard said, shifting focus back down to the book in his hands. Ancient Policies that Informed Us , the front read.
Kreacher nodded at once, coming around to James’ place, standing right behind Regulus as he took his plate with one hand, rolling up the placemat and grabbing the glass with the other.
It felt violent, to Regulus, who almost wanted to reach out and stop him. Instead, he folded his hands in his lap and turned to look at his family.
After dinner, it was Regulus, Sirius, Alphard, a handful of Alphard’s guests from the university, Evan, and Pandora. They all sat in a sitting room in the chateau, talking and laughing as they fell deeper into their drinks.
The room felt a warm breeze that came in from the night outside. It made Regulus feel claustrophobic. The sun had gone down an hour ago, and the light that illuminated the room was dim lamplight from antique lamps scattered about the room. It usually was a great comfort to Regulus, cozy feeling and warm, but right now it just put him on-edge. He couldn’t see anything well enough.
Evan and Pandora were conspiring with Sirius in the corner, who every now and then would look at them with a disbelieving face, and then one of them would laugh and continue talking.
“Regulus, play something.” Alphard asked, gesturing towards the piano that was off to the side of him.
“Je n'en ai pas envie.” Regulus said, feeling more like shaving his hair off than playing piano for a group of semi-drunk friends and family right now.
“Pourquoi n'en avez-vous pas envie?” ‘Why don’t you feel like it?’, Alphard asked a little quieter. “Why didn’t you go to town with Barty?”
“I just didn’t want to.” Regulus said, venom trickling around his words. He regretted it immediately.
“Okay,” Alphard thinned his lips. “Then go talk to Evan. Maybe James–”
Regulus got up before Alphard could finish, and sat before the baby grand, his fingers hovering over the keys. He looked back at Alphard, who smiled sympathetically.
‘Thank you.’ He mouthed to Regulus.
Regulus started to play a lively piece, bouncy but perfectly precise from hours spent practicing. People looked up with buoyant attitudes and easy smiles, and Alphard and some of his guests got up to sit closer to his playing. Regulus let his mind go perfectly blank as he fell into the muscle memory of each piece he played.
***
Back in his room—his room for summer, not his room, because his actual room had James’ bags scattered about, half unpacked—he couldn’t sleep. He was still fully dressed from the day, lying in bed curled up like a child. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, it wasn’t cute; not the way he furiously wiped a tear as soon as it had the gall to fall, and certainly not how his heart sped up each time he thought he heard somebody coming up the steps, daring to hope. It was late, James hadn’t been there since they’d left for the river.
Some rational part of his brain knew this was all happening too fast, that it was a crush, and that he’d survive it. Some other part of him was inconsolable, convinced James was the only person he’d ever be able to see like this. It had never happened before, so what were the odds of it happening again? The realist in his brain was the nastiest: Even if he and James could be forever, they wouldn’t be. James hardly felt the same way, even if he did have a proclivity for flirting. James didn’t feel this pit in his stomach everytime Regulus left the room, and James didn’t struggle to breathe when Regulus walked into one. Regulus was completely consumed, James was not.
There were footsteps on the stairs. Regulus leapt out of bed and threw off his trousers from dinner, pulling on some pajama bottoms. The bathroom door was open, James would be able to see him on his bed through there. He layed back down, less conspicuously clothed. He left his shirt off, laying on top of his covers and acted like he’d been sleeping for a few hours already.
Silence.
He must’ve imagined the sound.
***
It was breakfast, and James was there. Lord knows when or where he’d slept. He didn’t talk to Regulus. He and Sirius were preoccupied with each other. It was fine.
Then it was brunch. They ate mascarpone, strawberry, and honey tartines, which Regulus would never forget, because they were an instant favorite for James. The rest of summer, James slipped Kreacher nice notes and small offerings just for the hope that he’d make them again. It was just like him. The tartines were overly sweet for a brunch food, if you’d asked Regulus.
James even showed up for dinner that night. He still wasn’t paying attention to Regulus. He wasn’t ignoring him, no, because he’d glance his way when Sirius was talking to him and passed him the bread when he asked, but it was a long way from anything that might indicate sentiment.
It was like that for a week. A week.
Regulus was past his pity party. He was feeling reckless. He had no more sense of self-preservation, and he wanted to be afraid of that, but he’d been afraid and coy for his entire life and for once, he was going to decide to act irrationally.
From his bedroom window he saw James lounging in the garden’s swimming hole. It was a stone drinking trough for livestock, but they didn’t have animals apart from Pepper the grumpy cat, so it was used as a cramped little swimming pool every summer. Regulus hurried to put on his trunks and breezed through the house. It was empty and peaceful on this lazy summer day, windows swung open, and doors left ajar without a care.
Regulus took his notebook with hand-drawn staff lines and a work-in-progress transcription of a piano piece. He settled on the other end of the stone trough. James raised his head from where it rested against the side of the pool, looked at him over his sunglasses, but laid his head back down a moment later. Regulus didn’t acknowledge that he was even there, putting his clunky over-ear headphones on and clicking play on his walkman.
They sat together, just an arm’s reach away. James didn’t leave. Regulus acted like he was alone, and vowed he would do so unless James acknowledged him first. Until then, he’d follow him. He hoped it would annoy James, drive him crazy, just like Regulus was being driven crazy.
The trough was shaded partially by an apricot tree. Pandora was picking apricots into a basket, trying to appear inconspicuous, when really, she was endlessly fascinated by the weird truce that was happening behind her. She couldn’t help but smile. Regulus ignored her, too.
“What are you doing?” James asked, his sunglasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. Regulus couldn’t see what he was thinking.
He shrugged one ear of his headphones to the side to hear better. His music paused.
“Reading my music.”
“No you’re not.”
Regulus didn’t back down.
“Thinking, then.” He said, pushing his headphones down around his neck.
“About?” James’s head tilted to the side as he looked at Regulus intently.
“Private.”
Pandora giggled at that, but James was completely serious.
“So you won’t tell me?” James asked.
“So I won’t tell you.” Regulus repeated.
“So he won’t tell me.” James looked to Pandora, who was now watching the whole scene.
Pandora shook her head in an amused manner, picking another apricot and putting it in her basket.
“In that case, I'm going with Pandora.” James lifted himself out of the trough and water droplets slid down his back as he padded around the swimming pool and around Regulus.
Some water dripped straight onto his notebook when he passed by, and Regulus breathed out, irritated. He tossed the notebook out into the garden’s grass to dry out in the beating sun.
Regulus followed James there, standing on the other side of Pandora and picking apricots at an even faster rate than James, who took notice and started picking them a little quicker in retaliation. Pandora just held the basket, watching them carefully.