Adrenaline Rush

“Tell me this is a fever dream and they didn’t keep this because of fucking Netflix,” Barty spoke, his face murderous as he looked at Regulus. Reggie, unfazed by his threats, simply shrugged his shoulders. 

Barty was pacing through Reggie’s (and Potter’s) hotel room while his teammate sat on the couch, ignoring him and scrolling on his phone. “Father made his decision. There isn’t much we can do,” he replied, his tone factual. He knew once his father has decided something, nothing could change his mind anymore. They were going to room with the Marauders Racing drivers and nothing will change that. 

“How are you so calm about this, Reg?” Barty asked incredulous. “How are you not completely freaking out?!” Reggie looked at him with a bored expression. 

“Because there’s no point in freaking out. What will you gain from throwing a tantrum? Just sit down and process it like a regular human being.” Barty stuck his tongue out to him. Their conversation got interrupted by room service coming to give them their meals. They both weren’t in the mood to go out to eat and as long as Potter wasn’t here yet, Barty could stay over in his hotel room. It was this or staying with Sirius, so Barty had made his choice fairly quickly. 

They grabbed their meals, waiting for the door to close before continuing their conversation. “I swear to god, Reggie, you’re like a fucking robot or something.” Barty was gesturing wildly with his free hand, balancing his meal in his other.

“Are you done?” Regulus replied with a raised eyebrow. He sat down at the small table, his spine straight. Barty grumbled before slumping in the chair across him. Regulus curled up his lip as he saw Barty plant his elbows on the table, no table etiquette whatsoever. “Were you raised in a barn?” He asked in disgust. 

“No, but I was raised by Italians, you French snob,” he countered with a grin. Regulus rolled his eyes. “But speaking of being a snob, we have to shoot media content tomorrow morning. Make sure you have your happy face on, so the fans can’t see how much of a cunt you truly are.” Regulus gave him a look, making the Italian laugh out loud. 

“I’m not a French snob,” Regulus said, choosing to ignore his last statement. “I’m a Monegasque snob.” 

“French, Monegasque, whatever,” Barty replied. “God, you’re so rich it’s disgusting, why can’t you have struggled financially to get to F1 like the rest of us?”

He didn’t even bother to reply and instead started eating his meal. Barty, knowing he wouldn’t get a response out of his teammate, just smiled smugly and ate his meal as well. Unfortunately, it was in his usual loud and obnoxious way, making Regulus grip his cutlery tightly so he wouldn’t stab him. It was like the Italian bastard did this on purpose. “You know—“ Barty started but got rudely interrupted by Reggie. 

“Chew and swallow before you talk,” he said in a monotone voice, glaring at his teammate before taking another bite, his posture perfect and his movements elegant. His parents may have done a lot of things wrong, but at least they got some manners into him, unlike some others…

Barty swallowed loudly on purpose before continuing. “You know when James is supposed to land? I thought he was supposed to drive tomorrow’s session, but it’s already evening and he’s not even here yet.” 

The Monegasque shrugged, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Of course he had asked himself the same question. Even the entire internet wondered what was going on. 

He definitely didn’t stalk his socials. No. And he definitely didn’t scroll through the F1 gossip pages for some type of news as to why the Marauders driver wasn’t here yet. No. Not at all.

***

Tears blurred his eyes as he looked out the window, watching his home country England grow tinier and tinier until it was lost in the clouds. James should be happy; he’s seeing his best friend again, he’ll finally be able to sit in the new car. But all he can think about is his mum. The way she looked so fragile in the hospital bed, despite her insistence she was fine. It terrified him. For the first time ever, reality hit that his parents aren’t immortal. One day, he’ll still be alive while they’ll be gone. 

He shook the thought away. His parents were still here, and that’s all that mattered. Thinking about everything else was making him too depressed. He just… he needed a moment to process everything. To just… breathe. As much as he loved the sport, loved the energy, the atmosphere, the fans,… he needed the time away. But now everyone was scrutinising him even more, asking why he was arriving late, why there was never an announcement as to why he’s only coming now. It was exhausting and he felt like if one more person asked him a question he might burst into tears. 

On top of that, he wasn’t alone on his plane. Of course not, a sick mother and a stressed driver makes good TV after all, he thought bitterly to himself as he gave the Netflix camera a weak smile. 

“I’m glad it was just a scare,” he told the camera, knowing they needed some type of content. And he was nothing if he wasn’t a people pleaser. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything serious happened to my mother. Pretty sure I’d leave Formula One to be at her side,” he joked, although he wasn’t joking at all. His mother was his role model, and he would do anything for that woman. 

“What exactly happened?” Someone asked, and he felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he tried to remain calm. What had happened? He didn’t even know himself. One moment everything was fine, they were drinking tea and Euphemia had stood up to get some sugar, and the next moment they were in the hospital as the doctor explained that it was just a drop in blood pressure but that she had broken her arm during the fall. Everything was a blur.

“Oh, well, uhh,” he started, chuckling uncomfortably. “My mum had a nasty fall, but it looked worse than it was. Her arm is broken but other than that she’s fine. Just needs some rest and to take it easy.” He grabbed his phone, scrolling for a picture of his mother in her cast, beaming at him. Once he got it, he turned the phone to the camera, showing the future viewers the picture.

One of the men— he didn’t know whether he was an interviewer, camera crew or just there for fun— awed at the photo. “You’re very close to your mother, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I am,” he replied immediately, a genuine smile on his face. “My parents did everything for me, they’re my rock. They also took in Sirius when…” He cleared his throat. “They’re just great people and I’m happy to call them my parents. People often call me a ‘mama’s boy’ but I take that with pride, because it’s the best compliment I can get.”

The man nodded, looking wistful before opening his mouth to ask a follow up question. But James knew what was coming and beat him to it. He had left the door open for the question after all, because of his stupid mouth, but at least if he took control he could twist it how he liked. 

“Sirius was… well, you’ve seen the videos and photos probably, he was a problem child. He hated his home and was lashing out because of it, that’s not anything new. When things exploded, my parents took him in like he was their own son. We helped him heal and become the best version of himself, the one he is now. That’s why I always call him my brother. Because, despite being my biggest rival, he is my brother.” He paused, partly to take a breath but also partly to think about how he was going to word the next thing he was going to say. This was a very fragile matter after all. 

“Of course, leaving, and calling me his brother, put a strain on his relationship with his actual brother. I don’t pretend to know their bond— because I know you want to ask me for insights on this— I don’t know anything about their dynamic. But… I’m hopeful that driving in Formula 1 will make them at least acquaintances again.” He smiled before looking out of the little window, signalling the end of the conversation. He knew they were hungry for gossip, but he wasn’t going to give them any more than this. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he grabbed his phone, trying to suppress the guilty feeling of cutting the conversation. Goddamn people pleaser complex. 

Luckily, they shut the camera off and James was left on his own. His leg shook as he looked out the window again. What if this was the start of something worse? What if he lost his mother soon? His heart cracked at the thought. She had told him not to worry, that it was nothing, but how couldn’t he? She needed to live a long life. See him win a world championship, fall in love, marry, have children. She needed to see it all. 

He forced his mind to a different topic before he fully started crying in front of the camera crew. Unfortunately, that meant that his mind wandered to Regulus. Him in that goddamn suit, with those rings. Like… Jesus Christ, was he trying to murder James?? He looked so put together and so… hot. Especially with those rings, accentuating his hand. How can hands even be hot? James didn’t know, but he did know that Reggie’s hands were the epitomy of hotness, like how was he supposed to function seeing that??

It had been a few years since he last saw the younger Black, and he desperately hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself seeing him again. Sirius would positively murder him if he knew his best friend was attracted to his little brother. 

The crush had started off fairly innocent. When they were younger, he didn’t really look twice at Regulus, who always wanted to be included in their friend group. But as they got older, the young Black grew more distant and cold and James couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He wanted to know what went on inside him. At first he wanted to save him like he was saving Sirius; take him away from their parents and bring him to his loving home. It didn’t take long before it was obvious that Regulus didn’t want to be saved. 

But if there was one thing James was good at, it was not knowing when to back off. 

He kept trying, and soon it evolved to late night talks. It was over text, mostly, but sometimes they would meet up at the local playground and just talk. Regulus kept insisting that he hated it and James was forcing him, but they both knew that the younger boy would simply not come if he truly disliked it. 

After that, he started seeing Regulus in a completely different way, and he couldn’t help but develop a crush on the troubled boy. His mask became more obvious, the pain and misery underneath it more prominent. But as much as he wished he could, he knew he couldn’t help him, he could only stay at his side and be there for him. 

That was until Regulus completely stopped responding and didn’t go to their meetings anymore. To this day, James had no answers for it, and he wished to get them. In a way, he was glad they were forced to room together, but he knew more than anyone else that Regulus would simply not talk about the things he didn’t want to. 

He had hoped the crush was something fleeting, some nostalgia from the past. But that interview… yeah no, he became more beautiful over the years, like… how unfair was that? 

***

Feelings absolutely suck. Truly. Sirius hated them. Despised them, even. If life were up to him, he would delete them from existence (you get the point). If this was a Shakespearean play, he would dramatically moan about his tragic life before stabbing himself. But alas, this was real life.

He was laying sprawled out in his bed, in starfish position, staring at the ceiling. The hotel room was deserted besides him, thank god. His roommate Crouch was staying with his younger brother for as long as James wasn’t here yet. So now, he could listen to his sad Spotify playlist (how else could he be a dramatic bitch about everything?) and be miserable in peace.

God, he wished he could talk to James about this, but this was something his best friend never knew, and he didn’t want to explain everything now. How was he supposed to explain that he had been completely in love with Remus for years? That he had made the promise to himself that he would confess his feelings? That it went terribly wrong? 

~~~

“WEEEE AREEEEE THE CHAMPIONSSSSS” 

Sirius, alongside the entire team, was chanting this song as they celebrated his very first world championship. World. Champion. The words still tasted foreign in his mouth. Everyone was partying and drinking, and Sirius was definitely more drunk than the lot of them. 

He didn’t know how much exactly he drank or how he ended up here, but at some point in the night, he was standing on the table, dancing provocatively (although rather sloppily if he’d admit so himself, but who cares when you’re drunk and the world champion). He had a beer in his hand… (or was it a cocktail?) as he dramatically raised his arm while shouting the lyrics, spilling the beverage all over himself and others around him. The action almost knocked the pink heart glasses off his face, leaving it crooked. 

He had a stupid grin on his face, the one you only get if you’re piss-drunk, as his eyes roamed the blurry room. Was it just him, or were the walls suddenly spinning? 

His gaze stopped at its desired target and he haphazardly jumped off the table. “Remus, my engineer, my darling, my moon,” he slurred, walking towards him with open arms. “You are my moon, you know that? Because Sirius is the dog star and a star needs its moon to shine. You are my moon, darling,” he rambled on. 

Remus stood stiff as Sirius’ arms wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes roamed the driver’s face before he sighed. “You’re drunk, Sirius,” he spoke softly, although it felt like he was scolding him. 

“That’s besides the point,” Sirius replied, stepping closer to Remus. His hand rested on the other’s cheek. “You are my moon. I love you.” His usual charming smile adorned his face. 

“…I love you too, mate,” Remus replied a bit awkwardly, patting him on the shoulder. 

But that wasn’t the kind of love Sirius meant. Couldn’t he see? Frustrated, he surged forward and pulled him in a bruising kiss. It lasted a few seconds, before Remus pushed him away. 

“Okay, party’s over, champ,” he said, grabbing his arm to guide him away. “I don’t know how much you had to drink, but you reek of alcohol. I doubt you’re going to remember this night with the way you’re acting.” 

He wished he could forget that moment. Erase it from his memory. Just like the memory of how he got to his hotel room was erased. Then, he might not have felt the sting of Remus’ rejection so badly. Besides the crushing heartbreak, he felt humiliated to the core. He had never gotten rejected once in his life, and now the guy he was in love with didn’t feel the same. 

~~~

It had been a couple of weeks since that moment. Scratch that, actually, it had been since the end of the season since that moment. And here he was, still wallowing in bed, Conan Gray playing in the background. But you know what? Screw Remus! (He really wanted to screw Remus though) but screw him! 

Sirius could get anyone he wanted. Truly, it was the other boy’s loss, not his. If he couldn’t be with him, he could show him what he’s missing.