Chapter 43
As Regulus walks away from James and disappears behind the doors of Rink B, James has half a mind to feel sorry for him.
His pity is quickly subdued by the sudden temper that is boiling up inside of his chest, threatening to spill.
The feeling of anger isn’t anything new. He first felt it stirring up a few weeks ago, when Regulus began his routine of… James doesn’t even know what to call it. Completely ignoring him and acting like he doesn’t exist, he supposes. But then, it was secondary , overshadowed more by concern for Regulus. Now, any sympathy he had has been subdued, his indignation completely overtaking any other emotion rushing through his body and leaving him fuming.
He just doesn’t get it. One second, he and Regulus are at the coffee table in Hagrid’s donut shop together, and Regulus is telling him that they’re okay. Assuring him of the fact, even. “Oh,” James had said. “Sorry, I thought—“
”No, no, it’s okay. I promise.” Regulus had cut him off, promising him that he’d done nothing wrong, that there was no bad blood between them. And James had asked again.
”Are you sure?”
”I’m sure.”
James and Regulus must have two very different definitions of the word promise. Because suddenly, they’re right back to where they started. Before Sirius had left, before they’d spoken a word to each other, before they’d become friends. Except somehow, it’s worse. Or at least, it feels that way.
No, it is worse. Back then, Regulus and James hadn’t spoken to each other because Regulus was angry and he’d had every right to be. And even though Regulus had assured James that James hadn’t taken Sirius away from him, the guilt had still eaten at James too much for him to even think of trying to befriend him. Then, it was that night in the window, that stupid night where he’d seen Regulus in the window, that had changed things. That had made him realize maybe Regulus did need someone, even if he didn’t know it. And soon, he’d been proven correct.
So James doesn’t understand how, after all of that, after how hard it had been for them to become close, Regulus is so easily able to just drop all of it and pretend it had never happened at all. He doesn’t even seem regretful about it. It makes him wonder if he and Regulus had ever really been friends at all, or if Regulus was just waiting for the first chance to get away from him. Maybe they were just brought together by a stupid set of coincidences, and now that so much has happened Regulus doesn’t think they need to be friends anymore. Fine, okay, James can live with that. But god, the least Regulus could do is fucking say something to him. Not just assure him that everything’s fine, only to ditch him without so much as a word as to what he did that was so horrendously wrong. And if he was planning on doing that, the least he could do is not fucking lie about it. That to him is more cowardly than anything else that Regulus could do.
A part of James wants to just let Regulus go. Fine, okay, James thinks. Let him wallow in his misery, then. As far as James is concerned, the only person he’s hurting is himself.
Except that’s not true. Regulus is hurting someone else—him. James can try and try to pretend as much as he wants that this entire thing isn’t bothering him, but it would just be a lie. And unlike Regulus, one thing that James has never been is a liar. And he’s not going to start now.
He’s done pretending that the past few weeks haven’t pained him far more than any hockey blade ever could. He’s done letting Regulus treat him like shit, letting him ignore him and lie to him because he thinks that James is so goddamn nice that he won’t do a thing about it. Anyone on the Marauders who’s ever seen James amidst the heightened tension of playoffs would be able to tell Regulus otherwise.
James needs to do something about it. Otherwise, he will only become more angry.
And it won’t only be him. Regulus has done the exact same thing to Sirius, shutting him out again like he did all those years ago. Sirius tries to act less pissed about the entire debacle than James, but James knows Sirius well enough by now to see that gleam in his eyes. Yeah, Sirius is fuming. And he has every right to do so.
The problem is that he has no idea how to get Regulus to talk to him. James knows that it’s easy enough to approach Regulus, like he’s done so many times over the month, and ask him how he’s doing. It’s a useless approach, because already he knows that Regulus will lie. It seems to be all that Regulus has been doing recently. He has no idea what will break through to Regulus, has no idea how he’d get him to tell the truth.
On top of that, James isn’t entirely sure he wants to know the truth.
It sounds stupid when he says it out loud, so he doesn’t. But there’s some part of his mind, behind the anger and resentment he’s feeling, that’s fearful. He’s worried that somehow, Regulus managed to read his mind, managed to figure out what James really thinks about him without James ever telling him. Maybe it was during that moment at Sirius’s house, where Regulus and James had been watching Johnny Weir skate and James had gotten a little too invested in Johnny Weir’s personal life. Or maybe it was in their backyard, when James had shown Regulus how to shoot a puck and his hands had lingered on top of Regulus’s for a moment too long. Maybe Regulus knows, and he doesn’t want to make things awkward for James, so he’s distancing himself early. Maybe Regulus is actually doing him a favor, and saving James from a rejection that would completely ruin their friendship. It makes perfect sense, much to James’s dismay .
Except it also doesn’t make sense, because even if Regulus had found out, James still doesn’t think he deserves to be shut out like this. And fuck, maybe hearing what’s actually going through Regulus’s head will hurt, but James doesn’t care. He needs to hear it, he needs to get the truth out of Regulus even if he’ll regret it afterwards. Because then, at least, he’ll know.
His mind is going a mile a minute, swarmed with ideas. He weighs his options as he gazes back through the doors of the rink, figuring out a plan.
He doesn’t ever end up thinking of one , not before he needs to be at practice. It’s more of an outline than anything else, a possibility that occurred to him as he was reflecting on how they even got to this point in the first place. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try it. And if by some miracle his plan works, James won’t complain.
But he needs to do it now. He needs to do it now, before all of his emotions overwhelm him, before he ends up acting on an impulse that he will later regret.
Maybe he’ll regret this anyways. He’s long past caring.
❅ ❅ ❅
Regulus isn’t surprised that this session goes exactly the same as the last one did.
Between the same mistakes happening on all of his jumps, the exhaustion that hits him mid-program run, and the stumbles that he takes on simple footwork, he really doesn’t know why he expected anything different. And yet, he’d thought maybe this time would be different. That maybe this would really be the hour where everything would just click into place, and he’d be a podium favorite yet again. He knows exactly how every single session has gone for the past few weeks, knew how this would end, and he’d gotten his hopes up anyways.
It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad. Regulus and Sirius used to laugh at their awful falls in the middle of programs because they were just that out of character for both of them, because it was absolutely hilarious to be reminded that even when they were sweeping every competition, they could make mistakes too. Regulus has taken quite a few tumbles this week that he knows Sirius would find absolutely hysterical, including one where he landed right on his ass and then slowly slid into the boards. But it’s not as funny when it’s happening all the time, in a never ending cycle that he can’t escape.
Needless to say, Regulus leaves the session incredibly frustrated and with nowhere to go. As he takes his skates off in the lobby, he weighs his options. He can’t skate another minute; that much has been made clear. But that leaves him with the option of going home and having to talk to his mother, who has ambushed him with lecture after lecture every day for the past several weeks. Not that he can blame her for that; for every point she makes, Regulus has repeated it to himself in his head at least a hundred more times. But it just isn’t something he can handle right now. Especially after how he said goodbye to Lucius. He can’t imagine that Lucius took to it well.
Stranded and defeated, Regulus eventually finds refuge in the cold, drafty air of the bleachers.
He’s always liked the hallway that rests between Rink A and Rink B, connecting the two together. It’s quiet, and sheltered away from the chaos that occurs just feet below. When he heads there today, he is surprised to see the lights completely shut off in Rink A. Are they done with the ice that early? he wonders, having only ever seen the lights off at the very end of the night. Before he can stop himself, he makes the trek over to Rink A to investigate. And immediately, his suspicions are confirmed—there’s no one on the ice.
Maybe it’s just a break in the schedule, but Regulus is baffled nonetheless. He scrambles to try and remember what was happening on this rink according to the schedule, racking through his brain.
Suddenly, a voice in the dark provides him the answer. “Funny seeing you here.”
Regulus whips around to find James standing in the hallway, the fluorescent light of Rink B faintly glowing around him.
Fuck, he thinks, his heart pounding as he realizes he might not have an excuse to get out of this one. As he reaches and reaches and comes up with nothing, the silence between them grows.
Regulus shatters it first, giving up on searching. “James—“
He doesn’t get a chance to begin his explanation. Without another word, James approaches Regulus and uses both hands to shove Regulus against the wall, completely taking Regulus by surprise.
The gesture knocks the wind out of Regulus, who doesn’t attempt to fight back against James’s grasp. James isn’t clinging onto him hard, and he knows he could break free at any moment, but the fight isn’t worth it. “That ring a bell at all?” James asks right as Regulus is about to speak, to question why James is doing this. “Back when you actually hated me? At least you weren’t fucking ignoring me.” And—oh. It doesn’t take him long at all to put the puzzle pieces together. To remember when they once stood in a similar hallway by the locker rooms, only the roles were reversed. It was Regulus doing it to James, Regulus the one who was utterly pissed. That’s laughable now.
Unlike Regulus, however, James pulls his hands away from Regulus, and they promptly return to his sides. Regulus stays frozen against the wall—he doesn’t know what else to do. If he leaves, James will hate him. If he speaks… he has no idea. But on top of everything else, on top of the anger and the hurt and the terrifying nature of the confrontation, the proximity is making Regulus dizzy. He hasn’t forgotten how gentle James’s touch feels, and in fact, the past few weeks of distance have only made Regulus miss it more. Now he has it, but it still evades him. It was just there, and now it isn’t.
”So you’re still not going to say anything, then,” James says after a moment, shaking his head and looking away. “Okay. Don’t know what I was thinking.” He turns after a moment, and Regulus realizes he is about to walk away. Regulus can’t let that happen. He doesn’t know what he can offer, but he knows that he can’t let him leave.
“James, come on,” Regulus responds, taking a step towards James and yanking his arm backwards.
”Oh, so you can ignore me all you want, but the second I walk away it’s a problem?” James asks, and the sharpness in his voice causes Regulus to flinch. He’s never heard James this vile and mean before, even during their worst days of coaching Learn to Skate together. Regulus had no idea this side to James existed. “Seriously, how does that make sense?” To James’s credit though, he turns back around, and makes no further effort to leave.
”I thought maybe you’d understand—“
”Understand what? That you fucking lied?” James asks, his eyes narrowing. The statement baffles Regulus. Huh? Lied about what? He gets his answer shortly. “You said we were good.”
For the second time, Regulus recalls a moment he’d nearly forgotten about. That day, in Hagrid’s donut shop, the smell of rich sugars and creamers surrounding them as Regulus got another cup of coffee. James asking Regulus if they were good, worrying that he’d done something to upset Regulus. Regulus saying yeah, the past few weeks have just been a lot with Sirius being home.
And his heart drops. He realizes James is right—he did lie. But it isn’t at all about what James thinks.
”And we are,” Regulus confirms quickly. “James, you didn’t do anything wrong.” And it’s true. He had been distancing himself from James, but not because of anything James had done. He’d done so because he’d realized how he actually felt about James, and it was easier to hide his little crush if he kept his distance instead.
“Then why did you stop talking to me?” James asks, clearly not convinced of anything. Regulus could scream.
“For Christ’s sake, it’s not your fault!” Regulus suddenly snaps, taking a step towards James. James doesn’t falter, standing steady as he keeps Regulus pinned to the wall every way except physically. “Nationals training has just been a lot, okay? Not everything is about you all the time!”
“You could realize that too, you know,” James says, staring down Regulus with a glare that could kill. Regulus backs into the wall again very willingly. “I mean, I know figure skating’s a solo sport, but Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean you can ignore me for three weeks straight with no explanation.”
“And I’m sorry, okay!” Regulus exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “But my god. I can’t stand you. You act so fucking nice all the time, like I can talk to you about everything, and I can’t!”
“Try me,” James suddenly challenges, leaning one of his hands against the wall right by Regulus’s head. The gesture throws Regulus for a moment, and he tries not to look just at James’s arm. “What can’t you talk about?”
Regulus tries to respond, tries to think of some possible excuse he can give now, and comes up empty-handed. “I—“
”Come on, tell me,” James says, and suddenly, his face is close to Regulus’s, his other hand falling against the wall and brushing lightly over Regulus’s shoulder. It’s a dare, though suddenly the words falling out of James’s mouth feel irrelevant. “What is it? What is so fucking awful that you can’t tell me, so terrible, that you’re too scared to say it?”
For a moment, Regulus debates the answer that he could give.
Then his eyes meet James’s, and everything shifts. That’s one way to do it.
It happens so quickly that Regulus doesn’t even have time to second guess himself, no time to question what in the hell he’s thinking. All he knows is that in the coldness of the rink, this feels all too tepid, all too unstable, and he can’t handle the stark difference anymore. He needs to hang onto this before he loses himself in the feeling of the bitter chill again. Rushedly, he leans forward, reaching with one hand to steady himself in James’s hair, and closes his eyes as he brings his and James’s lips together.
The kiss that follows steadies Regulus at long last, and for a moment, the world stops.
He doesn’t know why he does it, what compels him at last to just lean forward and let it happen instead of running away. Regulus didn’t consider what might happen if James reacts the wrong way, what he might do or say that would be far worse than if Regulus had just lied. But no, he’s told enough lies already. At least Regulus can’t say now that he didn’t give James something real. At first, it’s instinct, and then, it’s terrifying.
But then James’s lips move against Regulus’s, kissing back, and it’s bliss.
Yes, Regulus thinks as his free hand flies forward and cups James’s cheek, his entire body shaking as they continue to kiss. Regulus has never done this before, so he has no idea how to approach it. He’s worried that it shows in the way his mouth moves, in where his hands rest, in the way that he trembles. He’s chasing pure instinct, and James’s arms wrap around Regulus’s back and waist, is confirmation that he’s doing something right. Yes, oh my god, yes, he thinks as James pulls him closer, why didn’t I do this earlier?
Regulus gets completely lost in the high of what it feels like to kiss James fucking Potter, even more so when James tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss. Regulus could do this forever. He could spend the rest of his life here, and be completely content. He doesn’t even remember what he was so afraid of, nor how they got here. He just knows he doesn’t want to lose it.
Suddenly, Regulus feels it again. The feeling of her hand striking his cheek, the stinging sensation that it left behind as she drew away. He can hear her voice in his head, asking him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, wondering if he even cares about his future.
And he flinches, the spell broken. “James—“ he tries to get out against James, but it’s stifled by James’s lips still moving against him. His hands fly to James’s chest, pushing lightly back against him, trying to gently get him off even though he doesn’t want this to end.
Yet again, James fails to stop, and Regulus finds himself suddenly screaming. “No, stop, get off!” Regulus shoves him– hard– and James stumbles back.
It’s quiet for a moment, and Regulus can’t bring himself to look at James’s face. This is unfair—he knows it’s unfair. He knows that he’s only just hurt James more, and that James will be so confused. So he doesn’t look. It’ll only make him feel worse.
When he does look up and lock eyes with James, he has to immediately look away again. He can see the bewilderment in James’s eyes, the demand for any sort of explanation, and Regulus does not have one. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Regulus nearly whispers, taking a few steps backwards. His words come out in a jumble. “I shouldn’t have done that, we can’t do this, I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry.”
”Regulus—“ James starts, but Regulus doesn’t hear the rest. He’s done what he always does now; he turns around and he runs, before James can dare to do something as foolish as follow him. “Regulus, wait!”
Regulus is gone too quickly to hear anything else. His heart pounding and his head spinning, he runs and runs until he can’t anymore, questioning what the hell he just did. He runs down the stairs and out of the rink, the taste of James lingering on his lips the entire time.
❅ ❅ ❅
Sirius wonders why Regulus hasn’t come by his door yet.
He hadn’t thought much of it at first, thinking maybe their mom’s just behind on starting dinner. He doesn’t know how busy her days are, and he doesn’t care to find out. Yet at this point, it’s been hours since he got home from the rink. Sirius has been in his room the whole night, but he heard the rattling of the garage door opening. And still, no sign of Regulus…
He checks the time on his phone. 7:48 pm. He should’ve been here, Sirius thinks again, overwhelmed with confusion. Unless, for some reason, Regulus didn’t go downstairs either.
Sirius gets up to his feet before his common sense gets the better of him, and he hesitates as his hand finds the door handle. Do you actually think he’ll talk to you? Sirius scolds himself for his stupidity, and immediately wants to sit back down on his bed. There’s no point in going to Regulus—not when all he’s done over the past weeks is push Sirius away, making it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want to talk to him.
But before Sirius is a realist, he is an older brother. And that makes his decision for him. Without another moment’s hesitation, he pulls his door open and makes his way across the hall to Regulus’s room.
He lingers at Regulus’s own door for a second, his hand frozen over the wood as he wonders how to approach this. Finally, he knocks. “Regulus?”
No response. Maybe he didn’t hear.
Sirius knocks again. “Hey, Reg?”
Nothing. He might not be in his room at all.
What Sirius does not hear, though, is a “no.” So he takes it upon himself to open the door—and he freezes at the sight.
Regulus is in here. And he’s sitting on his bed, curled up in a ball as he stares off blankly at some point in the distance and pays Sirius no mind at all.
He looks so small, just sitting there with glassy eyes and a bright red nose indicative of recently shed tears. And suddenly, nothing else matters. Suddenly, they are 7 and 8 again, and Sirius’s only mission in the world is to look out for his baby brother. Just like he did all those years ago.
Sirius closes the door behind him and rushes over to sit beside Regulus. His hands immediately find his baby brother’s trembling shoulders as he speaks. “Oh my god, Reg, what happened?”
Regulus’s shoulders splay in every direction as he completely loses it, attempting to muffle his sobs as he covers his mouth with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. But Sirius hears it all.
He wraps his arms around Regulus out of instinct more than anything else, quick to run a hand over Regulus’s back in a way that he hopes is soothing. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says, trying to meet Regulus’s eyes directly. He’s crying far too much for that to happen. “It’s okay, I got you.”
Before Sirius can process what is happening, Regulus returns the favor, wrapping his arms around Sirius far more tightly and clinging onto him like he never wants to let go.
Regulus sobs against Sirius’s shirt and into his chest. Sirius lets him, holding him the whole way.
They don’t speak. Sirius knows Regulus will not want to.
But for a moment in time, just for one, singular moment, he gets to hold his baby brother again. And as Regulus sobs against him, his entire body quivering, Sirius’s heart shatters right alongside his.