It always came slowly, that heavy weight of anxiety on his chest. It would build up so gradually and inconspicuously that James didn't know it was there until it was there. And okay, maybe sometimes (most of the time) he could feel it coming on, all those worries and anxieties stacking up, but he never let the thought linger on his mind too long. There was always something more important to think about or do or someone more important to pay attention to. His stupid little anxieties didn't matter when there was always more schoolwork to be done and more quidditch practices to have and more studying to do and more people to be there for and take care of.
So it built, whether he decided to acknowledge it or not. It was fruitless in the end, really, all that avoiding, because when the feeling came there was nothing he could do to ignore it. It sat heavily on his shoulders, on the marrow of his bones. He could manage to mostly ignore it for the first two days but by the third, he felt completely weighed down by it, like an anchor to a ship. He was stuck deep down in the ocean, holding and carrying all that weight.
His day of reckoning came three days ago. One second he was fine and the next that weight was there. Like before, the first two days had been fine. He’d ignored it, as much as he possibly could, and went on with his day. There was no time for him to let himself sink down into that weighty feeling. He had to keep going, keep doing something. He just had to keep being.
Then yesterday, the third day, had come, and well, all he could seem to be able to do was sink down into that feeling. It felt as if he had weighed a ton as he pried himself out of bed that morning and forced himself to function rather than stay in bed and curl into a ball under the soft material of his blanket. Everything felt harder when that weight came. It felt endless. He was going to classes and eating in the Great Hall and giving Regulus a chaste kiss in the hallway when he passed him by and yet it all passed by in a haze, all felt like he was just looking at himself doing those things rather than seeing himself do them.
It only felt real that night when he was gasping for breath in bed, tears clouding his vision and cheeks stained with those that had already fallen. Then it felt real. It felt like all he was. All he would ever be. He was the harsh hitch in his breath at every intake and the panic filling his head with everything bad that could happen or that was already happening. He was the shaky inhales he took when the panic attack finally passed and the shaking hands that wrapped around himself in an embrace.
He’d curled into a ball then, not bothering to even wipe the tears off his face, and fell asleep. He hadn't even been tired. He hadn't been anything but tired for a long time.
He didn't feel better when he woke up this morning. The heavy feeling was there but it felt like more, so much more. How had he ever managed to escape it before? And how would he be able to escape it again? It seemed unimaginable. And he thought that was probably why so many people didn't bother to even try. Why would they when that feeling had become so accustomed to them? It would be so easy to give in and just…not try.
And yet he didn't want to be one of those people-he wanted to try. He just didn't know how.
The answer became obvious to him later that day. He had somehow managed to get himself up and ready for the day and through all of his classes, though if you asked he wouldn't be able to recall a single thing he did or heard or said. He was sitting on his bed in the aftermath, staring blankly at the pattern of the blanket his mother had stitched for him, when Sirius, who he hadn't even realized was in the room with him, came over to him and asked, “You okay, Prongs? You look a bit out of it.” Needless to say, James had almost cried at the soft concern Sirius’ voice had held when he asked if he was okay and had barely managed to get out that he just hadn't slept well without bursting into tears and crying into his shoulder.
It had been this short interaction that made him realize how much he just wanted to let someone in on all that he was feeling and just…let himself break down. Let himself be comforted. To confide in someone about how anxious and overwhelming his school workload is on top of needing to study for his NEWTS, about how nervous he feels at leaving this school for good and going out into the real world and just the future in general, about how he opens every letter sent from his family's owl with trepidation of what terrible news it could possibly hold; his parents were quite old, at least older than most were, when they had James and they weren't getting any younger.
Yet, no matter how much he cared and loved and trusted Sirius, he just couldn't tell him. Couldn’t let him see him like that; raw and spilling at the seams. James remembers late nights holding Sirius after he had a nightmare and falling asleep tightly wrapped around each other after Sirius had spent the summer at that house. It had been so easy for him to be that person of comfort to Sirius, had been so easy to comfort him like that. The circumstances for why he had to do it weren't easy but taking care of Sirius, making sure he was okay, and that he knew James was there for him, no matter what, was as easy as breathing. And yet he couldn't let Sirius do the same for him. He knew that the other boy would in a second and yet he just… couldn't.
But he knew he needed to let it out to someone. That was becoming glaringly obvious. And it was becoming glaringly obvious who that someone was going to be. There was only one person he let see him like that, only one person whom he felt comfortable and safe and at ease enough to let see him like that.
Regulus.
With Regulus, James could just…exist. He could be whatever and feel however and Regulus would be there, would hold him in his arms and mutter soothing words in his ear when the moment prompted. He didn't have any expectations James needed to fulfill; which isn't to say that with his friends he does, it's just that he holds himself on that pedestal of feeling like he does. With Regulus, James just felt…Well, Regulus just felt like home.
So he coaxed himself out of bed and made his way out of the common room. The dungeons weren't exactly close to the Gryffindor Tower and so James spent the several minutes it took to get there to try and think of how to say what he wanted. It was fruitless in the end because every different version sounded stupid or too much or not enough. By the time he gets to the entrance of the dungeons, he decides that he’ll just ask Regulus if he wants to cuddle and then hope that his touch soothes and calms James’ mind enough for him to tell him.
“Heya, James,” Barty greets when he’s said the password and comes into the Slytherin common room, said boy lounging back on an armchair. His boyfriend, Evan, sits on the floor in front of him, resting his head on the other boy's knees, reading some book that James can't quite make out the name of.
“Hi, Barty,” James greets back. He hadn't expected it when he and Regulus first started dating but he and Barty had become friends rather quickly and easily. Their personalities were quite similar and they both could just spend hours talking each other's ears off. “Hey, Ev.”
“Hi, James,” Evan says back, looking up briefly to flash James a friendly smile before going back to his book.
“Reg is up in the dorm,” Barty says, nodding his head towards the stairs that led to the Slytherin boy's dorms.
James gives him an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”
“Come and talk before you leave later?” Barty asks.
“Course, Junior,” James agrees before making his way to the boy’s dormitory stairs.
It's not long at all before he’s made it to Regulus’ (and Barty and Evan’s) dorm. He knocks and when Regulus says, “Come in!” walks into the room. He spots Regulus rather quickly, said boy sitting at a desk in the back corner of the room. The desk is facing to the side so when James comes in Regulus easily turns his head to the side to look at the door.
A small smile comes onto Regulus’ face when he sees James. “Hi, baby,” he greets.
James’ own smile, wide and bright, comes onto his face in turn. “Hi, my love,” James says back, making quick work of crossing the distance between them.
“What are you doing here? We didn't have anything planned, did we?” Regulus asks, a brief flash of panic flitting across his face at the prospect of having forgotten plans we had made.
James shakes his head. “No, I just wanted-Can we cuddle?”
“Sorry, Jamie, I can't right now, I need to study. Have a Charms test on Friday,” Regulus says, flicking his gaze briefly to his open textbook in example.
James feels a knot of anxiety twist in him that says he’s annoying Regulus but he pushes forward anyway. “Can’t you do both?”
“You know I can't, James. Every other time we’ve tried to do that I always get distracted by how cute and comfortable you look and then I stop studying and just cuddle you. You’re a bad influence, James Potter,” Regulus says, teasing, a fond look on his face.
“Can’t…Can’t we just cuddle a little bit and then you can go back to study,” James says a bit desperately, feeling cracked and frayed at the edges.
Regulus sighs and James feels a wave of guilt crash through him. Regulus needs to study and James is just being selfish. He shouldn't have come. He should have just dealt with it on his own like he always did and not been a burden. “How about you go down to the Commons and hang out with Barty and Evan and I’ll come down and get you when I’m done?” Regulus asks.
See, the thing about not acknowledging and dealing with your emotions is that they always catch up with you in the end. And the other thing is that, most of the time, it happens when you least expect it or want it to.
James, pathetically, feels his chin begin to wobble and tears fill his eyes. He needs to pull himself together and go back down to the Common Room and talk to Barty until Regulus is done studying, yet all he can do is stand there and try and swallow down the lump in his throat.
“James? Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?” Regulus asks, voice filled with concern, immediately standing up and coming in front of James.
The tears spill over at the last question, the lump choking him. See, the thing about not acknowledging and dealing with your emotions is that they always catch up with you in the end and then you end up sobbing when your boyfriend asks if you’re okay.
“Oh, James,” Regulus says, immediately wrapping his arms around James and pulling him close against himself. A violent sob comes out of James as a result and he tucks his face into his boyfriend’s neck, uncaring of the tears and snot he’s likely going to leave there.
“What's going on, baby? You know you can talk to me about anything,” Regulus says softly, giving James a gentle squeeze.
And well, it's rather easy in the end for it all to spill out of him. “I-I’m just so stressed about school and-and my NEWTs because I need to study so I can get a good score and learn to be a Healer but all this homework just keeps piling up-” he takes a shaky inhale that doesn't quite fill his lungs all the way, “And on top of that I still have quidditch practice and matches and trying to find a new Captain to fill my position. And I’m so w-worried about my parents and e-every time I get an owl from them I’m worried it's going to say something t-terrible has happened and I wouldn't have even been there, I’d be a thousand miles away and wouldn't have even gotten to say-” his voice breaks off in a harsh crack. He takes another shaky breath before continuing, “I-It just sits on my chest and weighs down on me and I’m just-I’m just so tired, Reg.” Rather than his sobs easing after finally letting all of that out, they pick up instead.
“Shh, it's okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay,” Regulus says, bringing one of his hands up to card it through James’ hair. “Let it all out, James. It's okay. I’ve got you,” Regulus assures, holding him tighter, “I’ve got you.”
So, James lets himself break down, lets himself cry about all those worries he’s been holding inside himself, all because Regulus says he has him. James is quite sure he can do anything as long as Regulus has him, including letting himself be seen when he’s like this. Regulus has him so it’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.
His sobs die down an undetermined time later, though James is sure he was going for quite a while. Regulus doesn't seem to mind, just holds James through it all and whispers comforting sentiments every few minutes. Still, when James’ breathing finally goes back to semi-normality and his tears have stopped he still feels the need to say, “I’m sorry.”
“Don't you dare apologize, James,” Regulus says vehemently. “Don't apologize for letting yourself feel how you feel. You're allowed it just as much as everyone else, James. Okay?”
James nods his head against Regulus’ shoulder, sniffling.
“I'm so glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me all that. I know you have a hard time letting people see you like that and so I don't take the privilege lightly. And I’ll always be here if you need someone to talk to or cry to or anything to, okay?”
“But-” James starts, already ready to protest when Regulus cuts him off.
“No buts,” Regulus states matter-of-factly. “You take care of me and I want to take care of you too, want to be that person for you just like you are for me. You are not a burden, James, not to me. Especially not to me. I want to be there for you when you’re happy because I love nothing more than seeing you happy but I also want to be there for you when you’re sad or worried or anything else that you think you can't let people see. I want to do that, James. Not because I feel like I have to but because I love you and want to be there for you.”
“I want to let you be there for me, too,” James admits softly. “You-I feel safe with you. You feel like home.”
“Good. I’m glad. But also near tears, you arsehole.”
James laughs, albeit a bit wetly, and can feel the rumble of Regulus’ own against his cheek.
“You feel like home to me, too, James. I never knew it could feel so warm before you,” Regulus admits, voice a soft whisper. He always says intimate, sentimental things in such a soft voice, like they’re too delicate to be spoken quite so loud.
“Good,” James echoes. He lifts his head away from where he burrowed it into Regulus’ neck and the other boy's hands swiftly come up to cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing away the remaining tears there. “I’m sorry I cried and snotted all on your neck.”
Regulus laughs. “It's okay, baby.”
“Do you think maybe we could…Could you hold me for a bit?” James asks hesitantly and then immediately feels the need to backtrack, “Nevermind, I know you need to study and I already-”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘wasted your time’ I’m going to have to, lovingly, hit you in the head with a pillow.” James stays quiet because that was what he was about to say. “Good. Now, let's go lay down for a bit so I can hold you, darling.”
James positively melts at the nickname. Regulus uses it less frequently than ‘baby’ but it's probably his favorite thing for Regulus to call him. James was already on board with the idea of Regulus holding him, it was his idea after all, but the pet name left him even more pliant and willing.
They climb into the bed on opposite sides, wrangling with the previously perfectly tucked-in Slytherin green blanket on Regulus’ bed so they can comfortably settle under it. Regulus’ arms fall open for James the second he gets close enough and James happily settles into them, arm thrown over Regulus’ stomach and head resting on his shoulder; much like their position earlier just…lying down. Once he and Regulus have finally settled under the covers James feels more at peace than he has in a while. Despite his much bulkier and lengthy build compared to his boyfriend, he feels protected and safe in his arms.
After several moments of comfortable silence, James asks, “Could you…talk? It doesn't have to be about anything in particular I just like hearing your voice.” Usually, James is the one who is more talkative between the two (once he starts talking about something he finds interesting or intriguing he can go on for hours) but he loves it when Regulus talks about things he enjoys. He always looks so happy and genuine about whatever he’s talking about and James loves it.
“Mmm, sure, Jamie,” Regulus agrees, running his hand through James’ hair again. “Hmm, how about I talk about the cottage?”
James smiles at the words and nods. “Yes. Please.”
“It’ll be small but big enough to fit kids, when we decide to have them. It won't be too far away so we can still be close to our friends and family but we’ll move somewhere near the water, someplace we won't feel too caged in. We’ll spend our days swimming, since you and Remus finally taught me, and when we're not we’ll visit our friends and your parents and we’ll say we need to leave five times and then still stay two more hours to talk. You’ll be a Healer and I’ll be there to make you breakfast after you’ve had a long night shift and to wash you in the bath when you’re so tired that you can barely keep your eyes open. I’ll be a Potions Maker and you’ll drag me out of my study when I work myself too hard and take me out to our gardens, because we’ll have them, and we’ll hold each other close and dance.
“Eventually, I’ll convince you to let me get a cat, which you’ll act reluctant about but end up adoring anyway. And then you’ll convince me to get a dog because the cat will get lonely. And then, when we're settled in our careers and lives, we’ll have kids. Two, specifically. We won't spoil them, we don't want them growing up bigoted and entitled, but they’ll never go a day feeling unloved. We’ll be happy. Me, you, and the rest of our little family.”
James presses his wide smile into Regulus’ neck, heart feeling so incredibly full at the thought of that future. One with him and Regulus and a dog and cat and two kids of their own and a cottage by the sea. “We’ll be happy,” James echoes Regulus’ words, believing them completely.
“We will,” Regulus says, “We will because we’ll have each other.”
“Yeah, we will,” James agrees, feeling oh so warm and happy. Yes, he has things he needs to work on, like letting himself be vulnerable and letting people see him during his bad times, but he has the rest of his life to work on it and Regulus by his side to help him. Because Regulus is wanting and willing to and James is just as wanting and willing to do the same for him and so they will and that will be okay. They’ll be okay. They’ll be happy. “So…can we name our cat Fish?”
“Absolutely not,” Regulus says immediately.
“Well, then can we name it Taco?”
“Merlin, James, we are not naming our future cat Fish or Taco,” Regulus states.
“Fine, we’ll name our cat Fish and our dog Taco so when they’re put together they’ll be a fish taco.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, though the action is fond. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me,” James states.
Regulus sighs, because oh how he does love him, and pulls James closer, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Yeah, I really do.”