Bubble
Sirius was not doing anything productive, as usual. James contemplated murder.
“But, like Mary isn’t even coming, Remus is….”
He let the sentence fall off for seemingly no good reason.
“Anyway, it’s just you, me, Lily, and like…. I don’t know.” he continued. Of course he couldn’t get a lot of people to come, people had midterms soon, and the team had a hockey game that weekend. All the hardcores like Frank wouldn’t even hear the word alcohol that soon before a game.
“Perhaps,” James said. “We can invite Pericles.” He pointed his pen down at the textbook he was currently trying to tackle. Maybe that would bring him back on track.
Maybe.
It was a long shot.
Sirius scoffed. “Don’t do work while I’m planning!”
James sighed, frustrated. “Dude, I don’t know about you, but I have a fucking paper about this dude’s speech in like a week, and we also have practises, and a game after.” James was talking a little too loud even though they were in one of those discussion rooms in the library. He was a little paranoid that the sound would seep out and that everyone would hate his guts.
“No, I chose to write about…. That gay dude.”
James eyebrows flew up. “There was a gay dude?”
“Dude it’s fucking Greece, all of them were.”
“No, I think that was Sparta.”
“Well I think it was the whole Mediterranean, actually.”
James shook his head at Sirius’ never ending opinions about historical context. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because you’re not writing about him being gay, are you?”
Sirius immediately looked bored. “No, I’m writing about his legacy or whatever. Like, what happened to Persia and shit.”
James could have fallen off his chair. “You’re talking about Alexander? Since when was he gay?”
Sirius frowned. “Man, do you not pay attention, like even a little bit? I swear, I could have fucked a dude in front of you, you’d be none the wiser..”
“I’m not that dense….”
“I could fuck you, and you still wouldn’t know a thing.”
James just rolled his eyes. “Okay, but that’s a fun paper at least, why aren’t you working on it?” Of course he already knew the answer, but he felt like the day he stopped trying was the day he lost. Not the devil himself could get Sirius to do what he was supposed to.
“Because everyone decided to be fucking busy today!” he exclaimed. “So now I have to replan the evening.”
“Maybe,” James started, giving Sirius a careful look. “We should be busy as well.”
Sirius groaned, running his hands up his face.
“With the very important assignment we have due next week!” James continued, but it was like talking to a wall.
“And we’ll do it later, I wanna get drunk.”
“Spoken like a true alcoholic.”
Sirius scoffed at him. “I’m not an alcoholic!” he defended.
James didn’t actually believe he was an alcoholic, but he was definitely an addict. Doing crazy shit was kind of his forté, and he did not need any alcohol to get that done. Sometimes James feared he was just addicted to trying to fuck up his life.
“Is it really a bad thing to just have a chill night at home? We also have a game, unless you’ve forgot….”
“No, I remember, but that’s why I need to go out.”
James buried his hands in his face. “That’s the opposite of what you need to do before a game.”
Sirius clicked his tongue. “That’s no fun.”
James had a different definition of fun than him. James thought it was fun to play card games, play sports, play some music in his parents’ basement. Not fucking a stranger and waking up in Arizona.
He slapped his flat palm down on the table firmly. “I’m not going to a party, I don’t drink this close to a game.”
Sirius groaned overly dramatic. “Then what am I supposed to be doing?”
James shrugged. One thing he had finally been able to learn after all of these years was that Sirius’ antics were not his responsibility, and neither was keeping him entertained. God bless whoever was able to do that long term.
“Work on your paper.”
Sirius looked like he’d been betrayed.
It was later in the day that James found himself alone in the apartment. Sirius had been able to convince Remus to watch some cooking show with him, and so he didn’t have much to do. He’d spent most of the day either working on his paper or being at the rink, so he didn’t really feel like doing any more of that.
A faint thought struck him. Maybe this would be a good time to call back his mother who called him like two days ago.
He pulled out his phone, but the second he opened the screen, his mind completely forgot about any plans of talking to his mother.
Regulus: You can keep the underwear, but I would like my pants back.
James smiled to himself. He’d already washed the clothes he borrowed from him.
James: what are you doing?
He felt sort of proud of himself. Initiating hanging out with someone over text was like the worst thing he could possibly think of, but he did it anyway.
Regulus texted him back much quicker than James would expect. Earlier, he’d maybe text him back after a couple of days, but maybe they were actually getting back to being friends again.
Maybe.
Regulus: I’m home in about an hour.
He watched through some highlights from the Puddlemere vs Tornadoes game he missed. Jake Peters was a beauty as usual, but there weren't really any impossible goals this game. He had a few impressive ones, but he’d seen him do better. Maybe he was so neutralised to Peters’ talent that he couldn’t even really be impressed unless he thought it was actually impossible. Either way, he kept surprising him, even though he’d set such a high standard. That man had to have been made by God himself.
It was likely his biggest dream in life, to have a career like the one of Jake Peters. Being the first overall pick in the drafts, being named player of the year multiple times. The man was even nominated for sexiest man alive a couple of years back. James had been furious when he lost to Michael B. Jordan. Yes, the man was a sight for sore eyes, but against Jake Peters? That was a completely different league. He would always be the sexiest man alive in James’ heart.
Just to kill some time, he watched over some of the highlights from the Magpies vs Falcons. Sirius’ favourite player, Vincent Dumas, was apparently kicking the Falcons all the way back to their nests. When he was younger, James had speculated that he only liked him because he was French, but as he grew older, he was certain of it. Dumas was to Sirius what Peters was to James. Sirius was a centre while Dumas played defence, but it was more of the persona he’d created on the ice. He wasn’t the team captain that needed to keep himself in check, he was just a rowdy defence who wasn’t afraid to throw a punch when he felt the need to.
Of course, you always had to consider the fact that Dumas was quite the heartthrob in the NHL, and Sirius had been called pretty too many times for his own good. He’d probably fit right into that role as well; the charmer that the team always puts in front of a camera to draw some attention. James was more stuck as the tactical player that would win them points, but he was fine with that. He loved the sport in a completely different way than his best friend did.
Sirius
Sirius was fucking fed up with his best friend. He’d been waiting for James to fucking man up and come to him, but no, all his secrets were his own. What were even friends for if you weren’t even going to tell them anything interesting? Still, he’d decided not to dig too much as Remus told him to stop being so annoying. Stupid mistake.
Surely James wouldn’t think that Sirius was not going to notice the fact that he just kept going missing at random times and having a walk of shame home in different clothes than he went out in. Surely he didn’t think that Sirius wouldn’t know that James hadn’t brought the team sweater to a party, but returned wearing it? At noon the next day?
Something fishy was up, and Sirius would have known exactly what it was hadn’t it been for the fact that it was James Potter.
He didn’t do casual.
He didn’t do secrets.
The man had to practically propose to lily before she even considered going out with him, and there was no hell in which James would be able to hide the fact that he was in love with someone, so it could not be that.
Then why were all these things happening? They were best friends, and best friends were supposed to tell each other shit. The only reason that Sirius didn’t share every single detail of his life was because James could physically not stand to listen to his sex life, which was ok enough, but that did not extend to James’ secret excursions.
He’d spent the night watching Gordon Ramsay violate several human rights with Remus, but returned home to an empty house. No text, no nothing. Lord help him, he was going to start putting a bell around his neck to keep track of him. He tried checking snapmap, but that sneaky sucker never used it, so he was registered as being at the school six hours ago. The least he could do was help him out with stalking him if he wasn’t going to tell him what he was up to.
He picked up his phone to call James, because this would not do. He would figure this out, one way or another.
One ring
Three rings
Five Rings
“The person you are trying to reach….”
He hung up and immediately flicked over to another contact.
Two rings, and the line connected.
“Miss me already?” Remus’ tired voice sounded over the speaker. Sirius was not in the mood for pleasantries.
“He’s gone off again.” he informed him.
Remus’ sighed filled his ear. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since he reminded him that James would come to him when he was ready for it, but Sirius was more curious than he was polite.
“You do realise he’s gonna be twenty one soon, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything? He told me he was going to work on his paper, not sneak out to play Romeo or something!”
Once again, Remus didn’t even attempt to hide his loud sigh. He truly was the most reliable person Sirius knew. You could always count on Remus being annoyed with pretty much anything. Why he was still even friends with him was a mystery, he only ever gave him shit.
“What are you going to do about it then?” he asked.
“I’m going to get some answers.” he decided. Really, he was just doing his duties as a good friend. What if he was out doing drugs, meeting up with people that planned to storm the government, or falling in love with someone Sirius hadn’t approved of yet? God knows what that kid could be doing. Maybe he’d gotten caught up in some cartel and got his white inexperienced ass deported right back to England and put on a no fly list. Then they would never get to finish their discussion on what NHL team they wanted to play for.
“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Remus sounded like he wanted to end it all, but Sirius thought he was being heartless.
“You know as well as I do that he won’t tell! It’s our responsibility to keep him from being put on a most wanted list.”
“What?” Remus asked bewildered, but Sirius ignored him. He was only trying to derail him from doing what was right.
“We have to come up with a plan.”
Maybe he could follow him, though that would be hard considered they only had one car to share. Sirius couldn’t run that fast. Also, Sirius didn’t like running. That was why he played hockey and not football or something. Only James was the only one crazy enough to work out more than what he had to. That ADHD thing was frying up his brain.
Maybe he could buy and air tag to make sure he didn’t head over to fucking De Vargas park to meet with some El Chapo. He was pretty sure that was illegal, but if he took down a cartell operation, they couldn’t really care that much how. He had the freedom to put his air tag wherever it pleased him.
“And what is that?” Remus asked. So like him to pin it all on Sirius. Now he had to do all the hard work as usual.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have anywhere to place the air tag since James was as unreliable as a weatherman, and didn’t have one single thing he brought with him everywhere. He’d even walk from his phone on multiple occasions.
Sirius gave up. “That’s what I need your help with.”
“I’m not helping you stalk James.”
Sirius was no psychic, but he could have predicted that answer. “I’m not stalking him, I’m keeping him out of jail!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He sighed louder than Remus had done earlier. “This is the Real world, Remus. People buy drugs and people sell drugs, neither of which is legal. Do you want James to get deported?”
“What are you even… I’m so fucking done with you.”
Sirius groaned. “We have to look out for him since he’s too stupid to do it himself.”
“Sirius, I literally don’t have time for your antics, I have all this research to do..”
“My antics are just being helpful.”
“...and I have a person to heal by next weekend. Goodnight Sirius.”
“Do not hang up on me..”
“Good night.”
Three beeps and the line went slack. This was the way conspiracy theorists were made. Crazy people got crazy ideas, and since everyone had ‘real’ things to get to, they were just left to their own good graces. People like Remus were the reason people believed Barack Obama was a lizard. Americans were doing nothing good to their own economy, those useless gits.
Sirius didn’t even need Remus for this, he’d done it plenty of times before. The first time Regulus had made friends he had to do some ‘research’ to figure out if they were secret neo nazis or something (That kid Barty had a shaved head, and Sirius di not trust it), and another time he had to learn who the fuck this american guy James had suddenly began bringing to their house was. It would be just like old times, just Sirius and the devil on his shoulder.
There was no better way to prepare for a game than some good old fashioned scheming.
James
The walk to Regulus’ place felt shorter than usual. Likely it was just because it was one of those days where his music hit extra hard. He felt like he could keep walking forever before getting tired of it or skipping a single song on his playlist. These were always the best days.
Wall telling me they full of pain, resentment
Need someone to live in them just to relieve tension
Me? I’m just a tenant…
The music faded as he removed his headset to ring the buzzer. It took a couple of seconds before there was a clicking sound, and the door opened, letting him into the warm air. Somehow the hallway outside of regulus’ flat smelled so much like a hallway that it slightly unsettled him. He wasn’t exactly sure how he could describe the smell as other than that of a hallway, but it made a lot of sense to him.
“Do you have a camera outside of your door or something?” James asked as soon as Regulus let him in. He was in a bit more ‘proper’ clothing than what he’d usually be in when James came over. He could only guess he’d come straight from school or something as his black leather satchel was leaned up against his shoe rack.
His black pants looked like something that could have belonged to a suit, but they looked a bit too casual for that, so James could let it go. They fit him rather nicely, if he was being completely honest. Not only in sizing and stuff, but it was just fitting to see Regulus in them. The thing that really kept the outfit from tipping over to something too preppy was the navy sweater he was wearing over.
Regulus pulled a brow. “You mean to see who rings? Yeah, I don't want to get murdered in my home.”
James scrunched his nose before placing the sweatpants on the counter beside a mid sized white box with a bow tied across. A black tag was hanging from the band.
“Christmas present?” he asked.
Regulus walked over to where he was standing and touched a careful finger to the top of the bow, making James realise it was one of those silk fabric bows instead of the plastic ones. “From mother and father,” he said.
James nodded, studying the box like it was a bomb.
It was christmas time during their seventh year when Euphemia had invited the Black boys over to Christmas for the first time. Ever since James had known them, it had seemed like another Black family thing that they never celebrated christmas. This year, Walbruga and Orion had flown to see some family in France instead, so Sirius and Regulus were left completely alone. Sirius had mentioned it during dinner one day, and Euphemia had been appalled by the discovery that they had never celebrated Christmas before. Of course, Sirius was more than happy to spend the holidays with the Potters, but Regulus had been a bit more sceptical of it, but eventually came around after Sirius informed him about Christmas presents.
On the evening of the 23rd of December, they both came over with sleeping bags in hand, ready to see what this Christmas everyone kept fussing over was about. Two extra beds had been made in James’ room for the boys, which they threw their things over.
His grandparents had already arrived, and they were quickly hurried down to eat porridge. Sirius and Regulus had found this initially strange, as they had never eaten it before, though James assured them that this was an important Christmas tradition to uphold. Every year they placed an almond in the porridge, and the one who found it in their food was the one that would win the bar of chocolate. Euphemia and his grandmother would cook it in the oven so that the brown skin peeled off, making it hard to see in the white food.
James always made sure to thoroughly search his food before eating it, in the fear that he might eat it by accident. He hated the surprise of something hard in a soft food.
This year, it had been Regulus who was lucky enough to find it, and was served the chocolate bar by grandpa Henry, who pretended he was sorry for not winning. Regulus, who hadn’t known the man for very long, immediately took pity on him and offered to give him a piece to make him feel better.
“Don’t do it, he’s tricking you!” James yelled. Across the table, Euphemia and Fleamont were failing to hold back laughter while his grandma told him to let the kids enjoy it in peace. His grandad made a show of fake crying. “My own grandson thinks I’m a thief.” he said in a ridiculous voice. Regulus started laughing while holding the bar tightly to his chest. “You lost.” he declared between laughs.
“Lusie, I’ll distract him, you hide it!” Sirius yelled before jumping off his chair and putting himself between his little brother and Henry. “Bad grandpa.” James laughed as he went to pull on his legs from behind.
“Oh no, help me Margaret!” he called out to James’ grandmother, pretending to try and get out of their grip.
“Run Lusie!” Sirius yelled, but was cut off with a squeak as Henry pulled him tight in a bear hug. “Gotcha!”
“No!” Regulus yelled, and abandoned his seat to go and help James free his older brother. The bar was completely forgotten on the dinner table.
By the time the clock had struck 8 pm, the boys had been ordered off to sleep, and were sitting in James’ bed. They were trying to keep their voices to a whisper in fear that the adults would force them to sleep if they heard them.
“And then we’ll open presents!” James said with a huge smile. Sirius and Regulus’ faces had become increasingly more bright with every bit of information that James told them about the days that lay ahead.
“I can’t wait, I got you the best presents ever!” Sirius bragged. James smirked, because he thought his presents would be able to compete with that. He’d searched for hours on end before he had been able to find just the perfect gifts.
“Is it like this every Christmas?” Regulus asked.
James nodded frantically. “Yes, every single one.”
Sirius looked delighted over these news, but it seemed to sadden the younger brother ever so slightly. “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked.
Regulus shook his head. “It’s going to be sad when we won’t get to do it anymore.”
James had immediately felt like someone had punched him. “I’ll invite you every christmas.” he insisted, desperately trying to cheer him up. Christmas wasn’t a time where one should cry. “And then when we all get older and live together, we can celebrate it together how we want for the rest of our lives.”
This seemed to make Regulus’ eyes brighten up again. Ever since Sirius decided that he and James were going to become professional hockey players, he had plans for all three of them to move in together. Over the past few months those plans had increased, as Sirius had become convinced that Regulus would become a professional figure skater. “You promise?” he asked. James stuck out his closed palm with a pinky raised. “Pinky promise.”
-
The next morning, Ephemia had been the one fortunate enough to wake the three boys up. When she walked up to the closest bed where she had expected to find one of the Black brothers, she found it empty. She thought that maybe one of them had gone off to the bathroom, but then she caught sight of her son’s bed. She covered a growing smile with her fingers.
Huddled together under the covers laid the three boys, sleeping as heavy as one could. On each side lay Sirius and James, while the youngest laid in the middle, turned towards his older brother.
Euphemia was quick and silent to run out and get the camera. Henry and Margaret were still out on their morning walk, so the only person she encountered was her husband cooking up some fried eggs. “What’s up?” he asked at the sight of her running off to a drawer. She only responded with a finger to her mouth as she pulled out her camera. When she went back up the stairs, Fleamont had decided to abandon the eggs beside the oven to see what she was on about.
Upon entering the room, Euphemia was relieved to find that they were all still huddled together with their eyes closed. She was quick to snap a picture of them before she accidentally woke them up.
Then a hand was placed on her side as her husband pulled her into him. She was glad for the support, and leaned into him. Despite the beauty of the scene, she had not been able to keep the tears from running from her eyes. In the happiness, there was a sadness, a loss that she couldn’t help but feel.
-
“Do you remember that Christmas?” James asked. The Christmas you and Sirius stayed over? He wanted to add, but felt himself stop at the words. Whatever it was he was doing here with Regulus, whether it was reconnecting or not, it felt like a bubble, like it could break by the slightest pressure. As far as James knew, nobody was aware of these visits, not even his best friends. It made it feel like something that belonged to them only, that bringing in anyone else would pop it.
As much as James loved Sirius, he realised that in this particular scenario, he bore too heavy of a weight. James realised he didn’t really talk all that much to Regulus about Sirius, like he was some sort of trigger word that would bring them back to reality, away from the bubble where they still remained friends. Most likely, this was something that Regulus was feeling as well, if James were to judge. It hadn’t escaped him that he never asked about the time when he avoided telling Sirius where he was, and he never seemed to question why James wouldn’t tell him.
“Yeah.” Regulus said with words almost as low as a whisper. Unlike James, he didn’t seem to warm at the memory, filled with that good and homely feeling. There was something in his face that he wasn’t quite able to read, too much going on at the same time. He didn’t even return James’ look, but kept his eyes plastered on the present from his parents. His face was already obscured by the angle, but it got even harder to see him when his hair fell forwards, blocking James’ view of his eyes.
Yet, he continued. “You know, my mum still has that picture up on the wall.” he said, smiling at the memory of his mother showing the three of them how sweet they looked. They had of course thought it was ridiculous and embarrassing, but that hadn’t stopped Euphemia from framing it and hanging it up on the wall. After a while, James even forgot about that picture, blending in with the environment he had grown so used to. That was until they moved, and Euphemia decided to give it a new home, right by the fireplace. James was never really sure what it was about that picture that she had loved so dearly, but he’d caught her looking at it on more than one occasion. Sirius had of course completely ignored its existence.
Regulus’ reply came in a low hum, rather than putting together a sentence. Oftentimes James would wonder when everything went so wrong. When did Regulus go from someone he did everything with to someone he had to watch his words with? When did everything become so heavy between them?
“I think it’s still my favourite Christmas ever.” James dared say. It wasn’t like it was true either. His cousins had come to England and got to meet his best friends, it was snowing like crazy, he was celebrating with his best friends… What was there not to love about it? Sure, he had some pretty great Christmases after that, like the one with Lily, but nothing ever quite stuck like that one.
“It’s my only Christmas ever.” Regulus finally turned his head to James again. His hair only partly returned to its place, but left a single coil at his forehead. Instead of sadness over the statement, he looked resilient, like he was daring James to feel bad about it. James, of course, did exactly that. He pressed his lips together in a line. Their parents had of course not been aware of their time at the Potters, and next Christmas decided that they were old enough to join them to see their family.
James could have said that they were celebrating Christmas in France, but he didn’t. Sirius said it was nothing like it had been at the Potters, and it was more cold and formal. No porridge.
“Well, you’re in college now, you decide what to do with christmas.”
Regulus forced a smile before looking away. The piece of hair moved at the gesture, and James felt an intense urge to get rid of it.
Distracting.
He didn’t say it, but he was hoping that one day, the three of them would be able to celebrate together again. Last Christmas, he’d gotten Regulus a present that he’d given to Sirius, just some mittens he’d asked his mother to make. He’d been able to convince his younger brother to have dinner with him before flying to France, though that had not gone the way he’d wanted it to. Neither of them ever spoke about that dinner, but James knew it took them months before they even saw each other again.
There was a silence that stretched on, filling the room with a thick air. A part of him regretted bringing up that Christmas, but he was tired of walking on eggshells. If they were ever hoping to become friends again, they would just have to get over it.
“Well, what do you want for Christmas, then?” James asked with a teasing smile, desperately trying to lift the mood from this melodramaticism. Regulus looked up at him with suspecting eyes.
“You’re getting me a present?” he raised his eyebrows, making the curl situated on top of it follow the movement, James couldn’t completely tear himself away from it. It was like trying to ignore your nose in your vision after becoming aware of it.
James cocked a smile. “Of course.” After all of these years, Regulus should at least know the Potters well enough to know that they didn’t give up on people that easily.”I’m just giving you the chance to choose something other than mittens.”
That seemed to draw out the lightest chuckle from the other boy. “I quite liked those mittens, actually.”
James faintly wondered where those mittens were now. He had never seen them after, so he’d just assumed Regulus had hated them. Maybe there was a different reason for their absence. “Don’t tell my mum that, she’s never going to stop making them for you.” he warned.
“And that would be a bad thing?”
It was true, Euphemia made the best mittens. She liked experimenting with yarn, so they always felt soft, but still thick. Of course, the most important part was that they were warm.
“I don’t know, would it?” he asked slyly.
Regulus’ eyebrows knitted together, confusion filling his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
James only shrugged. “Don’t know.” he said innocently, learning down on the counter. A shift happened, taking them from a sombre mood to something more playful. James was not about to fight it.
Regulus sighed, shaking his head. The piece of hair shook with it, and if James wasn’t getting all distracted in that thing…
“So now you’re just saying stuff?” His arms crossed over his sweater, leaning his hip at the edge of the counter. The confusion in his face had vanished, replaced by what could only be described as amusement.
“That’s all I do.” He mimicked a southern american accent for no good reason, making it sound like something a Mathew Mcconaughey character would say. Regulus rolled his eyes, but didn’t attempt to hide the smile on his face.
If James was being completely honest with himself, it was probably the nicest feature of his. Now, he was no idiot, and had no issue admitting that Regulus was a handsome man, just like his brother. Those parents were the spawn of the devil, but they sure knew how to make pretty sons. There were a lot of features on him that James found nice, but his smile was safely at the top. That was his real smile of course, not the one he put on for show. His real smile always started with his eyes, crinkling the corners as his cheeks lifted.
“Playing hockey and talking smack, sounds about right.” he said, making James fake an offended look to his face.
“Hey, I thought we talked about putting those harmful stereotypes on a poor man?”
“Are they really stereotypes if they’re true?” he asked. James let out a laugh, though he didn’t look away from his face. He just seemed so relaxed in a way he hadn’t really seen in a long time. He wanted to bottle up the look, keep it in his box of memories. He had a thousand ones of Regulus’ smile, of his laugh, but they were all just that: memories. It had been years since he’d been able to experience it again, and it did not disappoint. It looked just the way it had always been, but somehow different. Maybe it was the way Regulus had grown into his skin and away from the babyface, but there was something so gratifying about seeing it and knowing what it came from.
Neither of them said anything, and James was fighting against every urge in his body not to do anything against that piece of hair. It would have been so easy, just reach up and put it back into place. James quickly decided that this was not just an impulsive thought anymore, he spent way too much time thinking about it. Maybe if he had his mother’s fancy degree, he would be able to decipher what it was that desperately made him want to fix it, but he couldn’t psychoanalyse a teletubby with a gun pointed at his head.
He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by Regulus clearing his throat. With a jolt, he realised he’d been staring, and the smile had turned into suspicion. “I’m gonna get your laundry.” he stated, pushing off the counter. James pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to snort. Of course, there was nothing he hated more than getting lost in his head, but it could be entertaining watching people react to it. Sirius would usually just give him a push or snap his fingers in front of his face, while Remus would find a bit more respectable ebay of getting his attention. LIly used to take pictures of him, putting them in an album she would pull out sometimes. James hated it, but she said he looked ‘cute’. Weirdly enough, a grown ass twenty year old man playing hockey did not enjoy being called ‘cute’, but she seemed to find it endearing somehow. Sometimes she would even start filming him because she thought he looked so surprised every time she called for him, and he snapped out of it. At first, it had been something he was really insecure about, but it helped being around people who didn’t treat him like he was weird for it. God, he hoped Regulus didn’t find him weird.
Upon his return, he had a white plastic bag in his hands containing what James assumed to be his clothes. He took the bag and looked through it to make sure his white t-shirt had not found its way out.
“I should come over here drunk more often if that means I get laundry services.” he said as the smell of detergent hit him. There had to be at least one person on My Strange Addiction that liked sniffing detergent or clean laundry or something, because it certainly was James’ strange addiction.
Regulus raised his eyebrows. “I vote no.”
James snorted. “Come on, I thought we had fun.” he complained. He actually had no idea whether or not they had any fun, seeing as James didn’t even remember much of it.
“Me and sober James had fun, drunk James dirtied all my laundry.” he said with a pointed look at him. He probably was right, but some people liked doing laundry, right?
“I think James can be fun in any state.” he said matter of factly. It was truly all about matching energy. James hadn’t even started drinking until it was well and legal (in the UK), but he’d been attending parties since the start of high school. If you had the energy, you rarely needed alcohol.
“Mhm” Regulus said with a flat look on his face. Of course Regulus wouldn’t find drunk people any fun. James wasn’t even sure that he drank. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but people who stayed away from alcohol usually didn’t enjoy being around it either. Of course, it may also just be that Regulus was infuriatingly focused on his physical health. It made sense, considering he was relying on his body not to fail him as he was pushing God’s limit with chainsaws on his feet.
After he saw Regulus practising his number, James had done a bit of research into Figure skating. By that, he meant he watched a couple of videos of olympians on youtube. He’d been seasick watching those people do those things. No matter how impossible the things Regulus did seemed, there was a select number of people out there that did things even more crazy than that. The thought didn’t sit right with him. How was it still even legal? A bunch of things were considered ‘illegal’ in gymnastics because it posed a threat to the athletes, but not in figure skating? They didn’t even wear helmets, that was just begging for a concussion. James would know, he’d been fortunate enough to get his helmet knocked off before being checked into the ice.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep? You have a game.” Regulus interrupted him from his thoughts.
James did indeed have a game, and should indeed get some sleep. He also had a paper to finish. He crossed his arm with a pointed look. “You’re keeping score of my games then?” he asked with a grin on his face. Regulus’ response was to shove him towards the door.
“Go home.” the ghost of a laugh in his voice betrayed the annoyed look he put on. “I have class tomorrow.”
Reluctantly, James did go to the hallway to pull on his shoes. He didn’t stay for that long, but it was already pretty late when he got there. He did have a whole education to finish before going pro.
Regulus was watching him, arms over his torso and leaned against the wall. James finished up the tying of his shoes before making sure to grab for the bag. He didn’t want his underwear to stay in Regulus’ apartment for any longer than it already had.
He glanced at the other boy patiently waiting for his visitor to leave. He’d put his head against the wall in the wait, and for no good reason, it made James’ eyes search for the piece of hair that had been bugging him off, but it was neatly back in place. He’d been wanting to fix that piece of hair the entire time he was here, and now that it was, it bothered him? What kind of logic was going on? Maybe he really did need the sleep.
Beside Regulus was a rather small shelf, and James stopped for a moment. He didn’t exactly know why he insisted on dragging this out, but his head was telling him to just find an excuse to stay for a little longer.
James considered for just a moment, letting his eyes run over his face. It was certainly an idea, but it was stupid and incredibly lame. James hated himself for thinking of it, and then even more for actually doing it.
He stuck his hand into the bag and stepped a bit closer to the black haired boy.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Regulus watched him with interest as he pulled his white t-shirt out of his bag and placed it on the shelf. Contrary to what he’d thought, Regulus made no remark, no snarky comments about it. He simply watched it happen and turned his attention back to James. Dark eyes completely focused in on him, and for a moment, he thought this plan maybe wasn’t that stupid after all.
They kept their eyes locked as James stepped back again to place his hand on the door. He’d half expected him to at least acknowledge it somehow, but Regulus’ face remained unreadable.
“I’ll see you.” he said before exiting the flat once again without his shirt.