10
The water is cold against his skin.
Sirius stands in silence in his bathroom, letting the sink water flow over his hands on the coldest temperature. His body is burning, hot with confusing feelings and indescribable emotions. He trembles, his bottom lip quivering as tears try to escape his eyes.
That shouldn’t have happened. Sirius shouldn’t have let that happen. But, he wanted it to happen. He still wants it. He wants Remus to touch him and to hold him close. Sirius liked it. He liked feeling his gentle yet firm hands at his waist, holding him steady as Sirius pretended he was okay. Pretended as if his insides weren’t burning with excitement and suspense.
His hands settled on Sirius’ hips so perfectly, it felt natural. The feel of his palms against the thin material of his clothes was electrifying, enlightening something in Sirius he hasn’t felt before with previous others or any other person really. His face was coated with a sort of sunburn blush, spreading to every inch of his face and down his neck.
Even when Remus hadn’t touched Sirius, and Sirius was just holding onto his wrist, feeling the veins that poked out, he had still felt winded. His lungs felt even tighter than ever, grasping onto every single breath as if he was falling under huge waves, trying to knock him over. The tight space between them sent shivers down his spine- Sirius wanting to make that small space even smaller.
Sirius had wanted that. And still, with Sirius standing in his bathroom with shaky hands and tears pricking his eyes, he still wants it. He wants to find Remus and drag him back into that janitor’s closet and experience it all over again. Except this time, let the moment drag out and let whatever was going to happen to them, happen. Sirius would stand there for ages, years, centuries if that meant he could feel that sensation again and finally see what would have happened if he hadn’t backed away.
Why had he backed away? Remus had begun pressing his thumbs gently into his waist, massaging the area there and it felt incredible. His stomach lurched, bubbling with fireworks and explosions of who knows what. His heart was creeping up his throat, settling right at his apple adam and pounding away, filling his ears with rapid heartbeats that could wake the whole world and send a national panic.
The feeling of his hands– his thumbs creating small circles into his skin felt heavenly. Sirius wanted it to continue happening, he wishes for it now. It made him giddy, and excited. His throat was tight, eyes ready to flutter shut from the intense feeling.
It was beautiful. The emotions piling inside of him, letting him experience something new and fresh. Something young and loud, something fiery. It pounced around inside of him, sending signals into his brain, causing alarms to go off. His vision was blurry around the edges, focusing right on Remus, soaking everything in. He wanted it.
It was also scary. Terrifying. This was something new. Something Sirius had never felt before. He hadn’t ever experienced something so enlightening, something so exciting it made him want to jump around and yell with joy. Something that made him want to close his eyes and let the sensation take over, focus right on that instead of everything else. It was frightening.
That’s why he backed away. As much as he loved it, wanted it, Sirius was afraid. He was scared. He didn’t know if this is how he should be feeling or if this was wrong to feel. He didn’t know if Remus could see what he was feeling or if he was just making it up. Even if that sounds crazy, it's something that went through Sirius’ head, trying to fight past the good feeling.
So he took a step back. Sent Remus a silent message. And instantly regretted it. Sirius drew his attention to how empty his waist felt, bare and alone. The warmth had disappeared and his heart sank, slowing its pounding and his stomach settled, becoming filled with anxiety instead of a giddy, incredible feeling. He couldn’t look at Remus.
Blinking, Sirius looks up to see himself in the mirror. His skin is flushed, eyes red with threatening tears. Cheeks shine pink, tinted from thinking of the moment between him and Remus. His lips formed a frown, corners tilted downwards.
He looks away, biting at his lip. His stomach folded in knots, anxiety mixed with lingering suspense tied together. His brain was sending him mixed messages; wanting to run away and hide in his room, sink into the floor and disappear. And also to go back to Remus. Grab a hold of him and create their closet moment again, relive it and not back away. He wanted it. He wants it.
The water still flows down his hands, creating his already cold hands to be colder, numb almost from the temperature. He moves his hands around, watching the water bend around his hands and collect in his palms before overflowing and spilling into the sink. He takes a deep breath, wanting to calm his nerves before splashing water onto his warm face, still having some lingering blush coated around.
With his eyes closed, his mind brings him back to the closet, almost as if he were there as another person, viewing the scene from the sidelines. He sees himself and Remus and watches their whole moment once again, almost in slow motion. Sirius observes every move and every glance, his stomach fluttering when Remus’ hands settle on his boney hips.
Even with the horrendous lighting, Remus looks ethereal. His curls flow on his head, settling in an intentional sort of messy look. They stick and poke out in a few places, and some curls lay on his forehead. His hair creates a halo, the dim lighting glowing his hair. His eyes pop out, looking like jewels. His eyes look like honey, so light and soft, with some specks of green and blue.
Sirius is stuck in the moment, feeling the cold water run off his face and flow down his hands. He also feels hot. Hot with that same feeling of want. Almost desire.
The moment speeds up, letting Sirius watch, barely able to catch anything else until it slows down to Sirius jerking. He watches, heart panging at his chest with slight anger as he sees himself back up, sending a message to Remus.
Turning to see Remus’ face, a look of hurt and doubt cross his eyes and cloud his face before turning into worry and concern. His hands drop to his sides, limp without a need to steady someone, to hold someone.
Sirius opens his eyes and grabs a towel, almost wanting to scream in it. Scream until his voice is hoarse and he can’t talk. Scream until his vocab cords shred and his voice box cracks and breaks. He doesn’t though. Instead, he gently wipes off his hands and face.
The atrium floods his mind, suddenly remembering that Remus is meeting him there, hopefully not getting caught. The thought of Remus once again sends butterflies into his stomach and a shiver up his spine, causing him to twitch slightly with giddiness. But then, remembering the note they left off of, sends Sirius back into the depths of anxiety and uneasiness.
He almost doesn’t want to go. Sirius wants to climb under his bed covers and hide, let the moon shine down on him and hope this is some sort of dream. Maybe he’ll wake up and find the moon up in the sky, its presence large and loud with Remus smoking a fag, directing smoke towards the window to protect Sirius’ lungs.
Sirius doesn’t want that. Not really.
Throwing the towel, he takes a deep breath, letting it fill his lungs up. The urge to cough sits thickly in his throat, but he ignores it, now focusing on the task on hand: finding Remus and making it not awkward. Maybe not back out this time. Who knows, Sirius doesn’t.
After pacing in the bathroom, he walks out, the moon still up in the sky with the stars, brightening up his dark room with a glow. He glances at it for a minute, stalling before heading out.
-
The atrium is empty.
Remus sits in the back corner, away from the staff’s eyes and any lingering patients passing by. Sirius had shown him this spot a while ago, telling him all the times he had hidden from Doctor McGonagall and Poppy, away from their eye line.
He’s embarrassed. Incredibly embarrassed and scared. His face burns red, warming his cheeks up with an obvious glow of pink-ish red. His hands shake, Remus folding them together to try and stop it. His legs bounce, nerves flying off his body in waves.
He shouldn’t have placed his hands on Sirius’ waist. Why did he even do that? There was enough space to let his arms hang there by his sides. There was no reason for him to place them at his hips.
But Remus wanted to. The small space was inviting and Sirius looked gorgeous. His blue eyes almost glowed with the small light, providing another source of light for the both of them. They popped out, exposing his huge pupils with mesmerizing features and hidden meanings. His hair laid neatly down his shoulder, falling out from behind his ears to frame his thin face. His cheekbones, sharp as glass, poked out proudly, almost wanting Remus to look at them.
Everything about that closet between them was undefinable. They shared each other's breaths, sharing the same air. Remus treasured it, allowing himself to breathe freely knowing Sirius was here, doing the same as he was and borrowing each other's breaths, and stealing them away from the other.
It was almost a need to place his hands at his waist. To steady Sirius and provide Remus some sort of grounding. His head was foggy, clogged with spinning thoughts that made little sense, but also wondering. His hands needed to linger, needed to touch something, something of Sirius’. They just so happened to land at his waist, right at his hips that poked at his rough hands.
If Sirius had said something, Remus would have pulled back. No hesitation. But, Sirius almost whined the word yes, like he absolutely needed Remus’ hands there, holding him in place. Like he wanted something to force him there, something to ensure his feet stayed in the ground, planted and looking up at Remus with wide eyes.
He thought they were both on the same page, both wanting the same thing. Whatever was supposed to happen between them in that room, Remus wanted it badly. He could beg for it, right now. The atmosphere in that janitor’s closet was something that Remus needs in a drug. He wants whatever drug was lacing up that room in a bottle so he could puff it. Remus needs it injected. He wants- needs to feel it again.
But then Sirius backed away, just enough to ensure Remus knew what he was getting at. And Remus got the signal, loud and clear. And even though it hurt, Remus understood. He did. Younger Remus, immature Remus had known it would end like this and all those years ago, his younger self bottled those emotions up and pushed it down. He couldn’t afford to go after Sirius like he wanted to, all those years ago.
And now, Remus had followed it. Those feelings, those wants and needs, resurfaced, into his more mature, more sensible self. He was older and Remus had thought he could move past it, let it drift into the air and forget about it. Move on.
He was completely wrong.
That situation had moved something in Remus. It had almost flicked a switch on, turning a light bulb on so Remus could see clearly. It wasn’t just a simple crush with Sirius. It wasn’t just butterflies and giddy feelings. Silly smiles and dopey glances. No, it was so much more. Something Remus couldn’t even think about. It was much bigger than a stupid little crush.
The sound of footsteps brings Remus out of his thoughts, perking his head up. He sees Sirius walking into the atrium, holding onto his bag with twitchy fingers. He looks around, searching for Remus until his eyes finally land on him. A smile forms on his face, not as wide as it usually is, but nonetheless a smile. Remus almost cries.
“Hey.” Sirius mumbles as he sits down, a few inches away from Remus.
“Hi.”
Remus turns his body, facing Sirius fully. In doing so, Sirius flickers his gaze someplace else, looking shy as if he was meeting somebody new for the first time. Remus dismisses his spiraling thoughts and looks to the ground.
It’s a little awkward, Remus has decided. Neither of them have said another word, both seeming as though they want to say something, just don’t know how. Remus bounces his leg, the anxiety creeping up on him again as a lump forms in his throat.
“You okay?” Remus asks, voice so quiet he’s not entirely sure Sirius heard him.
Sirius snaps his head up, looking startled. He nods hurriedly. “Yep. I’m fine.”
They look at each other, nerves very present in both of their eyes. Remus opens his mouth before closing it again, deciding at the last second not to say anything. Sirius just stares at him, eyes flickering over his entire face. His hands twitch, constantly cracking his wrist or his fingers.
Remus looks down at his hands, feeling warm from Sirius’ gaze. He swallows, trying to push the lump down his throat. His hands feel clammy, sweat forming from his palms and he tries to causally dry them along his trousers.
“Are we okay?” He whispers almost. Remus’ voice is low, scared. Worry floods through him, running up and down his spine in uneven patterns.
Sirius doesn’t say anything, at first. Remus bites the inside of his cheek, cursing internally at himself. He should have caught the train.
Then, he feels a shoulder bump against his own. Just a light bump, nothing more. He looks back up, seeing Sirius right at his side. There’s a small smile on his face, kind and real. There’s no longer any sort of shyness coating his face and his eyes show nothing of fear or doubt.
“We’re okay, Remus.” He says, widening his smile.
“Positive?”
Sirius blinks at him before nodding, stifling a small laugh. “Yes. I’m positive.”
Remus returns the smile, feeling the tense parts of his body lift up and fade away. His stomach releases its tight knots and replaces it with a thrilling sensation, deep in his stomach before traveling up his spine, instead of the worry.
“Okay.”
Sirius bangs his forehead gently against Remus’ shoulder, hiding a small chuckle. Remus embraces it, almost wanting Sirius to rest his forehead completely on his shoulder to let his head fall and relax against Sirius’ soft hair. The best he can do is slowly move his hand across his thigh, his gaze landing on Sirius’ hand.
Just before his hand goes off his own thigh, he looks over at Sirius who has now stopped his movement. He looks over at Remus with big eyes and red cheeks. There’s something nameless in his eyes, looking over Remus’ face and tracing the very obvious scar.
Remus almost looks away, feeling insecure but Sirius holds his gaze, locking his eyes with him. They both don’t look away, Remus’ stomach jumping with thousands of mixed emotions and sensations. His leg begins to bounce again, more from anticipation instead of anxiety.
A small touch tingles his pinky finger and Remus, gingerly looks down. He views Sirius’ pinky over his own. A small gesture but nonetheless shoots fireworks in Remus’ belly, butterflies bouncing all around and his body fights off a shudder. The touch burns him almost but also cools him, grounding him and washing away his worries.
Turning back, he meets Sirius again. He’s amazed, taking in everything about this boy, even his nasal cannula, hooked on the thin line of his nose and providing Sirius air to easily breathe from. There’s nothing unpleasant about Sirius, everything is gorgeous and has meaning for a reason.
His eyes, without warning, move down to his lips, staring. His face is on fire, no doubt red from the warmth. Remus doesn’t move, taking in the cracked lips and tracing over the cupid's bow with immense focus.
Remus looks back, meeting his eyes, desire no doubt clouding his pupils. Sirius looks back at him, not moving. He blinks and slowly shuts his eyelids closed, letting out a long exhale.
“Slow.” Sirius mumbles, voice quiet and soft.
Remus moves his pinky finger just a bit, bringing Sirius’ attention back to him. Sirius reopens his eyes, focusing right on his face, taking him in once more.
“Slow.”
Sirius looks at him, flickering between his eyes before nodding. He smiles once more, reaches his eyes and twinkles form in his eyes, making the blue around his pupils even more beautiful. They shine with such happiness and joy that Remus could stay here forever.
“We’ll go slow.” Sirius confirms.
Remus nods.
-
The drugs have worn off.
Regulus wakes around midday, the sun pooling into his room and providing a sort of warmth look to his hospital room. It flows onto his bed and coats his exposed legs, heating them up in a sort of nostalgia feel like he’s nine again, catnapping in the sun.
His body is tight, his joints feeling as though they’re in thick knots, needing to be untied and loosened. His back is even worse, protesting from the lack of movement and the odd position Regulus had slept in. He groans slightly from the discomfort, wanting to move to allow his body to relax but feeling particularlycomfortable from the sun and his blurry mindset.
Although he’s still groggy with sleep, his eyes barely open and focused, Regulus can tell the drugs have worn off, leaving him back to normal. His head is clearer and he feels in the present and himself. He no longer feels as though he’s above the clouds, having no filter and no guard. Regulus is back to himself; shielded and grouchy.
He flips to his side, having to use immense effort to achieve this goal. When he does, Regulus faces the window and views the sun shining through. He continues to leave his exposed skin out, not wanting to get rid of the feel and the sensation it causes on his skin. Regulus, if he could, would take a bottle and soak it up, preserve it and hold onto it.
Some clouds linger in the sky, full and dark. They float around, slowly inching towards the bright ball of light, wanting to cover it. Regulus hopes the sun outshines the clouds but in reality, he knows that won’t happen. Instead, rain, strong and loud will pour down, soaking the earth and creating a melancholy feel mixed with calmness.
Usually, Regulus would be delighted, wanting nothing more for it to rain and create that sort of atmosphere. With rain, it drowns the world out, creating a sort of silence but with the sound of pelting rain against stone, dirt, pavement, buildings. It allows plants to gather water and let thirsty animals have a drink or even a wash. It brings the loneliness of the shadows a peaceful guide, allowing it to have a friend.
However, he wants the sun to stay, to linger for as long as it can. He wants to sit in the sun, letting it tan his skin and warm him up. Regulus wants to sit in the sun and read a book, allowing the brightness to light up his page and let the words fly and pop. He wants to drink a cold drink and allow his body to balance it out with the sunshine, creating a sort of comfortable feel.
Regulus is interrupted from his phone, a buzz going off and causing Regulus to turn slightly. The lower part of his abdomen, tugs, his focus now being brought down there and allowing his thoughts to catch up with him.
The surgery.
He stays frozen, listening to his phone buzz until it fades away, his screen turning dark once more. His skin tugs, creating a sort of discomfort and Regulus zones in on it, finally allowing himself to soak everything in.
He’s breathing.
His nasal cannula sits in his nose, the prongs holding on tight to his nostrils. His lungs work– barely but enough to support Regulus. The procedure did not kill him. He is not dead. In fact, Regulus is very much alive, fully aware of everything and feeling everything touch him, feeling every breath, focusing on every blink.
Without patience, Regulus sits up, his joints popping in protest and his back screaming from the sudden quick movement. He ignores the pain, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling up.
There’s a thick cloth, sitting where his old G-Tube sat. Holding the cloth down, medical tape lays around his skin, tugging slightly whenever he breathes in. Regulus uses a finger and slightly traces around it, feeling the edge of the tape and some sort of sticky residue.
He breathes.
He’s alive. Regulus is okay.
His head tilts to the side, his eyes landing on the cat stuffed animal and the past memory of James appearing in thick hospital scrubs and handing Regulus the toy brings a sort of drop to his stomach, filling it with an emotion Regulus cannot describe. His mouth twitches slightly and he becomes aware of it, forcing his mouth to stay still immediately.
A knock on the door causes Regulus to perk his head up.
He slides off his bed, his feet hitting the floor, knees cracking. Regulus pulls off his nasal before walking across the room. Opening the door he becomes face to face with Pandora.
She’s smiling and shows off a bag of fast food.
“Pandora,” Regulus says, a smile forming on his face. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“You would have known if you answered your fucking phone.” Pandora mumbles, walking fully into Regulus’ room. “I had to sneak past the nurses since you wouldn’t answer.”
“I was sleeping.” Regulus mutters, closing the door and heading over to sit on his bed. Pandora joins him, her shoulder nudging against his. “Why’d you have to sneak past? Poppy knows you and I’m sure-”
“You forgetting you just had surgery done?”
Regulus raises his eyebrows, feeling his face flush from the look of Pandora’s face. Her expression has quickly changed, no longer being all excited and dancing with different kinds of happiness and humor. Instead, worry and fear linger, clouding her eyes.
He looks away, aiming his gaze anywhere else but Pandora. His room is darker, the sunlight now gone.
“You said everything was okay,” Pandora starts, her voice quiet. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have came-”
“I didn’t want you to worry.” Regulus cuts in, shrugging.
“I’m always worrying about you, Reg,” Pandora admits, bumping into his shoulder. “If you didn’t want me to show up, you could have said. But, you could have told me about this.”
Regulus looks back up, meeting Pandora’s eyes.
“Fine, I should have told you.” Regulus moves a bit of hair out of his eyes. Pandora shrugs, turning her eyes to the bag on her lap. “But, everything went okay. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Regulus nods, now nudging his shoulder against Pandora’s. She looks back at him, flickering her gaze between his eyes. When she’s satisfied, she nods back, a smile now present on her face.
“Food?” She asks, her hands already opening the bag and the smell of greasy foods fill the air, causing Regulus to wrinkle his nose.
“You couldn’t have spent a few extra pounds on real food?”
“Does it look like I’m made of money, Regulus?” Pandora asks, pulling a french fry out and plopping it into her mouth. “I was barely able to get a ticket for the train here. Had to go to Barty to fish a few extra coins from his pockets.”
“It’s not like he’ll be missing them.”
“Apparently, he is,” Pandora rolls her eyes, fishing around in the bag. “He’s making me do his homework for a week straight.”
Regulus hides a laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. He watches as Pandora shoves a few more fries into her mouth. “Should have gone to Dorcas.”
“I did! She refused to give me anything!” Pandora complains, placing the bag onto the table attached to Regulus’ bed before flopping back onto the bed. “See, this is why you’re desperately needed back at school. I wouldn’t be wasting my hard earned money to visit you.”
“Then don’t visit me.” Regulus says simply.
“Yeah, you're right.”
Regulus snorts. He reaches for the bag and places a french fry into his mouth. As much as he would rather just go to the cafe and get a bland salad or a sandwich, he won’t make Pandora’s spendings go to waste.
“Someone get you that?” Pandora asks, bringing Regulus’ attention back to her.
“Hm?”
She points to the cat plushie. “That. I’ve never seen you with that before.”
Warmth climbs up Regulus’ neck and coats his face, turning his cheeks pink. He turns away before Pandora can notice. “Poppy brought it for me.” He lies.
He hears the bed squeak and Pandora’s shuffling. A small giggle escapes her mouth. “Bullshit. Poppy never gets you anything.”
“Well, she did this time.”
“I highly doubt that.” Pandora says.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Pandora’s hand goes over to grab the stuffed animal. Regulus pushes her hand away.
“Hey, don’t-”
Pandora tilts her head at him.
“Oh, fuck you.” Regulus snickers at her, turning away.
“C’mon Reg,” Pandora singsongs, sitting back up and nudging Regulus’ shoulder. “Who got it for you?”
He shakes his head, his face covered in warmth. Regulus can’t tell if it's from embarrassment or something else.
“Was it from Remus?” She asks, swinging her feet. “Do you guys have-”
“What is wrong with you?” Regulus cuts in, knowing exactly how that sentence was going to end. “No, Remus didn’t give me it. It was from Poppy.”
“Maybe it was from someone in the hospital.” Pandora thinks out loud.
“It is. It’s from Poppy.”
Pandora stops swinging her feet, glancing over at Regulus with wide eyes. “Sirius?” She whispers, looking unsure.
“No.”
“James?”
Regulus hesitates for a split second, a second that anyone other than Pandora wouldn’t recognize. “No.”
“Holy shit, it’s from James.”
“No-”
“Regulus, is that stuffed animal from James?” Pandora asks, eyes wide.
He rakes a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “No. It’s not from James.”
“It’s so from James.”
“Pandora.”
He looks over at her, meeting her eyes, filled with confusion but also excitement. Maybe a little too much excitement. Her mouth forms a smile, unsure whether it should be sitting on her lips or if it should be turned into a frown.
Regulus opens his mouth, about to shoot her idea down, make it out of her head and switch the conversation before she can get onto her phone and tell the whole fucking school about it. But, he can see the way Pandora knows. She knows. And whatever bullshit Regulus thinks of right on the spot won’t change her mind.
He sighs, rolling his eyes. Pandora makes a small noise.
“It was from both James and Sirius.”
Pandora makes another sound, this one more out of confusion.
“What?”
Regulus shrugs. “You wanted to know.”
“Sirius?”
“Yes. I’m not repeating it.”
She blinks, furrowing her brows. “Why?”
“Hard to explain.”
“You just don’t want to say it.”
“It’s not a crime.”
Pandora goes quiet, fishing out another fry from the bag.
“Is this like a sort of,” She bites her lip, seeming as though she's trying to choose her words correctly. “Truce? Like, you know-”
“No.” Regulus puts. “He made James deliver it to me before surgery. It was supposed to calm my nerves.”
“Seems like it did.”
“Are you on my side or his?”
She snorts. “Sorry.”
Regulus drags a hand down his face. “It’s just a toy. It’s whatever.”
Pandora hums.
Regulus glances at her. “It means nothing to me.”
Now Pandora glances at him. She tilts her head once again, giving him a sort of look. “It means nothing to you?”
“That’s what I just said, yes.”
“So if I were to just,” Pandora waves her hand around, thinking. “Cut its head off and make you watch as the stuffing falls out, you wouldn’t care?”
“Now that’s a little extreme.”
-
Sirius is bored.
Remus had left in the morning, having to go catch his train. Sirius had tried to convince him to stay, practically begging because Sirius had known then he would be bored without him, but Remus hadn’t let Sirius’ pleading sway him. He had caught the earliest train, slipping out of bed without waking Sirius, left a note and when Sirius had woken up, he was gone.
He kept the note though. It was a small sticky note, yellow with black pen. It said; didn’t want to wake you, see you soon.
Sirius wished Remus had woken him up. At least then, he would have had a few more minutes with Remus instead of waking up without warmth next to him.
Now after their whole taking it slow talk, Sirius misses Remus even more. His heart beats a bit faster when he thinks of Remus, his chest tight, stomach all fluttery and nerves bouncing off him in a giddy way. He embraces it, liking the way it feels. Just now missing him, makes his palms sweaty.
It was well past noon, dinner time arriving at a slow rate and the hospital was emptying out. The halls were becoming silent, the only sound for the squeak of shoes against slippery tile and mops cleaning up the floor. The smell of bleach fills his nostrils, lingering in an unpleasant way and causing Sirius to wrinkle his nose.
He’s wandering around, walking down every corridor whilst looking down at his phone every so often. For the past hour– past day really, Sirius has been looking for James. He hasn’t been answering his phone nor his door when Sirius had knocked earlier. When he turned to Minnie, she seemed uninterested and Poppy, right at her shoulder, told him to leave her be.
Every room Sirius searched that James might be in, he wasn’t there. He checked the gym several times, knowing James somehow enjoys working out. Every time he’s checked, it’s been empty. He’s checked the atrium and some sitting areas. Still no James. Sirius had even checked the nurses break room, seeing if he was stealing their snacks and coffee. But, once again, James wasn’t there.
Sirius had knocked on his door earlier, in hopes he’d be in there, having a lazy day, but there was no answer. He wasn’t sure if James was even in there. He had waited a few seconds before leaving, trying to hear James’ breathing or some sort of shuffling around. Maybe a toilet flushing or a shower running. But, there was nothing. So, Sirius had left, on his way to pointlessly check another area.
He wasn’t searching for James just because he was bored. It was one reason, but it wasn’t the main one. Sirius is mainly looking for James because they just haven’t seen each other. They haven’t had a proper hang out.
Sirius misses James.
James has mostly been with Regulus, doing their treatments together, doing everything together it seems. When Sirius would call him, James would quickly text him that he’s with Regulus or on the phone with him and he would call back. And then, Sirius got sick. He couldn’t even poke his head out the door, his only option was to phone James. Which led him right back to square one.
Now, Sirius wouldn’t say he’s jealous. Sirius has never been jealous. Not once in his life. He’s just lonely. He misses his best friend. He wants to be with James like in the past; complaining about schoolwork, gossiping about hospital drama, talking about Monty and Effie. He misses that.
So, Sirius has been looking for him. Now that he’s allowed out of his room, he’s using his privilege to find James. But, he’s having no luck.
He heads to the corridor where his room stands, wanting to go knock on James’ door again. There’s a slim chance he just missed James in one of the rooms he checked and James went back to his room. Maybe his phone was dead and couldn’t receive Sirius’ calls. That seems reasonable.
His fist hits against the door and then he waits, resisting the urge to tap his foot in annoyance. He crosses his hands over his chest as he stares at the door, almost as if he could somehow use his mind to open the door. To Sirius’ dismay, he did not develop mind powers over night and he cannot open the door with his mind.
A few moments go by and Sirius knocks again, a little harder and louder this time. And then, he waits again, playing with his hair. Once again, a few minutes go by and no answer. Nor is there a sound that comes from the room. Not a single sign a living human is sitting in that room.
A sigh escapes Sirius’ lips and he trails down the hallway, heading to his room. His eyes travel to the door a little further down the hallway and his feet, against his will, stop. A thought goes off in his head and Sirius’ shoulders slouch.
He could go ask Regulus where James is. Afterall, it seems they’re glued to the hip at this point.
But, where do him and Regulus stand? Is it appropriate to walk up to his door and knock? Would it end up in a screaming match or would it be civil and curt? Sirius did see Regulus before he went into surgery and they sort of had a moment, a moment of normalness. They had talked without it ending up in a fight- sort of.
And this way, if Regulus does answer the door, Sirius can see Regulus standing after the surgery with his own eyes. He’s been worrying about Regulus since the surgery, only having to go off what the nurses and doctors say and not what his own eyes could be telling him. He’s been begging to see him, even if it’s from a distance– a mile, a meter, a yard, whatever, to see if Regulus is alive and okay. Just, okay. That’s all Sirius wants.
So, even if there's a very high chance Regulus might just slam the door in Sirius’ face as soon as he realizes he’s standing before it, at least Sirius will see with his own eyes that Regulus is breathing.
Sirius takes a deep breath and walks over to Regulus’ door. He stalls, his hand raised, wanting to come in contact with the door but hesitating, his mind fighting him. But, he pushes himself, forcing his fist to hit the door, loud enough for Regulus to hear it but not loud enough to startle him.
Then, Sirius takes a few steps back, wanting to make sure there is enough distance between the two, and waits.
A second goes by.
The door opens. But, not with Regulus behind it.
A girl with blonde hair stands there, eyebrows raised. She blinks at him, mouth parted open slightly.
She turns her head, Sirius about to say something but shuts his mouth with confusion.
“Why is your brother here?”
Sirius bites the inside of his cheek.
“Just shut the door, Pandora.” A voice says from inside the room. Sirius tries to peek over the girl’s– Pandora’s shoulder.
Pandora turns back to look at him before snickering. “You do it then.”
“Pandora-”
“Hi Regulus.” Sirius finally says, looking into Regulus’ room. He watches as Regulus gets up from his bed and walks over to the door, gripping on the side of it.
He blinks at him, looking uninterested. Sirius watches as Regulus’ hand travels up to the tubes of his nasal cannula.
“Surgery go well?”
Regulus shrugs, leaning his body against the side of the door. “I mean, I’m standing here. Breathing. Kind of. So.”
“Don’t be a jackass.”
“I could just,” Regulus pushes against the door slightly. “Close the door. Leave you standing out here like an idiot.”
“Well, you certainly could. But you would have done it already.”
“What do you want?” Regulus finally asks, looking bored.
“Do you guys always talk like this to each other?” Pandora asks, coming up behind Regulus.
Regulus tsks, tilting his head to look at her. Sirius snorts.
“What? It’s a genuine question. I don’t have siblings.”
“No, we usually fight,” Sirius answers. Pandora switches her gaze over to him. “But like screaming matches, not like-”
“Okay, just-” Regulus cuts in, frustration covering his face. Pandora clicks her tongue before walking further back into the room, leaving Regulus’ side.
He turns back to Sirius, now fully looking as though he’s going to slam the door in Sirius’ face.
Sirius clears his throat. “Have you seen James?”
Something flickers past Regulus’ face, something that wasn’t meant to escape his guard. Sirius catches it, unsure of what it means and he holds onto it, letting it linger in his mind. It’s gone when he blinks, Regulus’ shield back up and hiding any real emotion.
“James?”
Sirius nods. “Yeah, y’know. Big glasses, crazy hair. Around six feet, age seve-”
“No, I haven’t seen him.” Regulus answers, shifting on his feet.
“Oh.”
He bites on his bottom lip, trying to think of any other possible places James could be hiding at. But, mainly, he’s wondering whether or not he should say goodbye to Regulus or just walk away.
“Is that all?”
Sirius’ eyebrows raise, forgetting he’s just standing here, in front of Regulus. “Uh, yeah.”
“Okay.”
Neither of them move. Sirius tries to, wanting his feet to move and head back to his room, hide under the covers and call James until he answers. But, his feet are firmly planted on the ground, as if someone had just superglued his shoes onto the tile without him knowing. Regulus doesn’t move either, his face not giving away anything.
Sirius swallows, viewing Regulus, almost as if for the first time. He sees him, sees him standing and actually looking at him. Actually breathing and alive.
“The surgery go okay?” Sirius asks, his voice quiet. He can’t tell if Regulus will respond the same way as before or give a genuine response.
A beat of silence passes them, and Sirius almost believes Regulus might not answer. His face heats up, letting the question surround them in awkwardness, and embarrassment pools in his stomach, knowing Pandora is just a few feet away from them, viewing them look at each other like strangers, almost enemies. But, in reality, they’re just brothers.
“Yeah, it went okay.” Regulus replies, his voice even quieter. He responds in a rush, almost as if he’s forcing himself to say it. He nods, his fingers tapping at the tubes of his nasal. “It went okay.”
He nods, copying Regulus. “Yeah, okay. That’s good.”
Regulus doesn’t respond.
He moves and the door closes, leaving Sirius alone in the corridor, facing a door.
In the end, however, Sirius feels as though they made some progress.
-
James still manages to shiver in layers of clothing.
He’s been sitting on the roof, knowing that no one will look for him up here. However, he wishes that there would be another place, maybe someplace warm, that would provide him a hiding spot, instead of this place. Even with the many layers James has on, he shivers, teeth clattering and body trembling against the ruthless winds.
James has been keeping away from everyone, only returning to his room to take his medication and follow through with his treatment. Though, it only provides him loneliness as he stares at his phone or laptop in silence.
Sitting on the roof is calming. It puts an ease to James’ racing thoughts, letting him think clearly and not be constantly having to chase his thoughts in waves, wanting nothing more but a little bit of quiet. For the past few hours, James has entertained himself by people watching. He views people walking on the sidewalk, trying to guess their stories, figure out what they want in life, that sort of thing.
Though, his eyes always linger a little longer on the duos. The people who walk in pairs, sometimes holding hands, sometimes just shoulder touching. James’ mind usually stays still, watching the pairs walk by, not even trying to play the little game he’s created. He just observes, from a far and lets his mind be silent, soaking in the view and let his frown form a little sadder on his face.
After Poppy’s talk, all James has been thinking about is the two teenagers. Alice and Frank. It clouds his mind, looming over him, especially during his treatments. After taking his pills, the thought of the two of them, holding hands, breaking a few rules, touching, and then death shudders through him, waking him up.
The thought of the two of them brings both Regulus and Sirius into his mind, bringing every single moment where he’d accidentally been too close to them to his mind and filling him with immense dread and fear, shivers climbing up his spine and not from the cold. The thought of Sirius or Regulus dying because of James- because of his recklessness and carelessness plagues his mind and soul, creating a fear that wasn’t there before.
His stomach hurts from the anxiety of it, knowing, at the end of the day, B. Cepacia, can choose to destroy his life and his friend’s lives. He can live with the fact that he’ll never get new lungs, not unless a cure comes out and works. But, James couldn’t ever live with the fact that he took Sirius’ or Regulus’ chance for lungs away from them. He can barely live with the fact that he could take away their chance.
“Trying to commit again?”
James jumps, a gasp softly escaping his lips in surprise. He furrows his brows and turns his head. His eyes meet Regulus’.
Anxiety creeps onto him, settling in his chest and creating an uncomfortable sensation filling his body, letting it take over. His hands become restless, wanting to pick at something or move around. James settles on picking at his pants.
He laughs, breathlessly, trying to make it seem real. “Nah, I couldn’t leave you.”
“I’d survive.” Regulus chirps, shrugging.
“Sure.”
James watches as Regulus’ cheeks turn pink. His lips twitch slightly, and he shifts around, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“You cold?” James asks.
“No,” Regulus answers, keeping his eyes on James. “Just that ledge you’re on…”
James grins, swatting a hand at Regulus playfully. “Awh, you worry about me.”
“Fuck off.”
James chuckles, turning his gaze away from Regulus and back to the view, looking out at the dark sky, lit by stars and a bright moon. He swings his feet, the heels hitting the bricks of the building and making a satisfying tapping sound.
In a moment like this, James wants to push his new fear away, back into a corner of his mind and leave it there, forgotten. But, as much as he tries, wanting nothing more but to experience this with a smile and crack a couple of jokes, he can’t shove it away. Instead, James sits there, the thought of Regulus being close to him, even though he’s more than six feet away. He almost wants to hold his breath and make sure B. Cepacia can’t touch Regulus.
For once in James’ friendship- or whatever they have, with Regulus, James wishes Regulus would leave.
“Did you get caught?” Regulus speaks up. “After you snuck out, y’know.”
James bites his tongue, considering lying. He could easily lie, letting Regulus know they both are in the clear. But, at the same time, James doesn’t want to lie to Regulus. It almost feels wrong, in a sort of way. He feels guilty thinking about lying.
“Yeah, Poppy caught me.” He admits.
“Should’ve left earlier.”
“Well, then I wouldn’t have given you your beloved stuffed animal.”
“I would have been fine without it.” Regulus says, lying through his teeth. James almost laughs.
“If you say so.”
James lets out a long exhale, almost a sigh. He lets his shoulder drop and he tries to ease the tightness in his chest. Along with the discomfort of his anxiety, butterflies have entered his stomach, letting him know of their presence and bang against his ribcage.
“Thank you.”
He knits his eyebrows at that, confusion covering his face. James fully turns around, letting his feet no longer dangle over the edge of the building. He views Regulus, standing with his arms wrapped around his body, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“For what?”
Regulus looks hesitant, almost as if he’s being forced to say this. He opens his mouth before closing it again. His eyes drift away from James, turning to look someplace else.
“For bringing it,” Regulus says, the pink becoming brighter on his cheeks, traveling across his nose now. “The stuffed animal. And the stars.”
James blinks, his feet beginning to swing again. Now, he looks away, aiming his gaze onto the floor. “Oh, it was nothing. You should be thanking Sirius, really.”
“You could thank him for me.”
James hums. “I could.”
He looks back up, viewing Regulus. Regulus still looks away from him, very obviously. The pink on his face has almost become red and James bites his tongue, wanting to tell Regulus to wear proper clothing for the weather. He fights against it and turns back around, feet once again dangling off the building and looks out to the darkening sky.
The wind picks up, so strong and cold, James believes it could blow the stars out, leaving the sky with only the moon to light the dark. He squints, his eyes watering slightly and James grabs his scarf, pushing it up over his mouth and nose.
Movement happens behind him, the sound of shoes against the roof fill his ears. He can’t tell if Regulus has moved because of the wind or if he’s leaving. James hopes for the latter, the fear of risking Regulus to lose lungs, taking over the warmth in his belly and battling the butterflies.
To his surprise, the sound of shuffling happens near him and before he can even blink, Regulus has seated himself on the ledge of the roof, six feet away from James. James looks at him, eyes wide and the butterflies seeming to almost overtake the fear, nearing dominance.
James feels an odd warmth spread across his face, even with the bitter cold biting at his exposed skin.
“What are you doing?”
Regulus turns to look at him, seeming shy, looking unsure. He swallows, his adam apple bouncing. James zones in on it, watching it with great focus.
“Sitting.” Regulus puts, simply. He copies James and begins to swing his legs.
“Why here?” James asks, hoping it didn’t come out harsh. “Do I need to convince you not to jump now?”
Regulus snickers, shaking his head in a childlike way. He fumbles around with his hands in his lap, his hands seeming to experience the same restlessness James’ hands are going through. “No. Jumping off a hospital building is the worst way to commit suicide.”
James blinks, wanting to laugh but unsure if it’s appropriate. “How come?”
“Well, I mean,” Regulus starts, his voice sounding nothing like himself. “If the plan fails, you’re so much closer to a hospital. They can find you in seconds and provide help.”
“I can’t tell if you're being funny or telling me some sort of dark fun fact.”
“Maybe it’s both.”
James nods, chuckling softly. Everything is a mix of emotions. Different emotions that conflict with each other, fighting for dominance and thoughts rushing by, trying to warn James but at the same time, flaring James’ cheeks up. He’s red in the face, so close to Regulus, sitting together. But, at the same time, he’s so close to Regulus. Just six feet apart. Not breaking the rule, but right on the rule. Yet, that’s still too close.
Regulus tilts his gaze upwards, looking up at the black sky. His cheeks are rosy from the wind, patches of red blooming under his pale skin. His tongue drags across his lip, capturing James’ vision and locking him in, unable to look away. His light pink lips turn a light red from the moisture, bringing in a pop of color to his dull palette.
His arm stretches out, finger raising and James tears his gaze away and tries to see where Regulus is pointing.
“My star’s out tonight.” He notes.
“Is it?” James asks, still trying to figure out where he’s pointing.
Regulus hums, bringing James attention back to him. He lays his arm back down to his side and keeps his eyes locked onto the sky, and supposedly his star. “It’s usually outshined by Sirius’ star. Today, though, it’s out.”
James glances back up to the stars, wishing he could pinpoint the Regulus star. Though, he was never good at astrology. He places his eyes back on Regulus, focusing on his side profile. He traces over the hollow of his cheeks and the bump of his nose. James’ eyes travel along his jawline and up his ear.
“It’s beautiful.” James almost whispers, his voice so soft, the wind nearly cancels it out. He doesn’t even process it’s escaped his mouth until he sees Regulus’ eyes snap onto his, holding his gaze.
“It’s just a dot in the sky.” Regulus replies. James watches as he works his jaw.
His eyes travel over his face. His stomach flips with anticipation and heat bubbles up. His throat is dry, wanting to obtain some sort of moisture to sooth it. James’ tongue feels tied, stuck to the roof of his mouth and glued.
Nerves bounce off him, all meaning different things. Nerves from how close Regulus is, how they’re having a normal conversation, how it feels different. Regulus seems more relaxed, more talkative, more himself. A guard is very clearly shown on his face, hiding his true emotions and expression but it’s less out. James can see tiny cracks in that shield, some of his realness popping out and allowing James to slowly see more of Regulus. He cherishes that, not knowing if it’s intentional or not but, still, James feels an odd warmth from it.
On the other hand, Regulus is so close. He’s sitting next to James, just a few feet from him but not far enough. With one mistake, Regulus could be so much closer to James. With just a little scoot, James and Regulus could practically touch each other. His lungs are in danger- bacteria trying to shove itself into Regulus’ airways and clog his lungs with no cure in sight. Lungs down the drain and back to square one. His belly aches from the thought of it, head spinning from the danger, an alarm flashing red, warning him, wanting James to move and leave.
James doesn’t move though. Instead, he peers at Regulus, taking his features in and observing them as he would an art piece. He follows guidelines and grabs a hold of the small beauty mark, right on his cheek. James sees a small scar on his chin, blending into his skin but if he pays real close attention, he could see it glisten from the moonlight. Traveling upwards, he can see the small freckle right above his left eyebrow.
“I mean it, Regulus,” James says. “It’s beautiful.”
Regulus snaps his gaze back to the view they both look out to, avoiding James' eyes. Though, James just takes this moment to observe Regulus’ side profile again, letting his eyes take him around and travel along his skin.
“Have you ever been to those lights way over there?” Regulus asks, voice getting carried by the wind. He’s pointing again, but this time not at the sky, up at the stars. This time, he’s pointing straight, right at the bright little dots a few miles away from them.
James frowns, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
Regulus tilts his head to the side, working his jaw once more. He stays silent, letting James’ one worded question sit between them, getting lost in the wind. James is almost about to open his mouth, say something, when Regulus cuts him off.
“Sirius promised to take me there.” He says, slow and unsure.
James raises his eyebrows at that, surprise settling inside of him. “How come?”
“It’s a long story.” Regulus mutters. James almost doesn’t hear it.
“I have all night.”
Another beat of silence between them. The wind seems to pick up, howling and pushing against trees.
“Sirius used to teach me about stars and that sort of shit,” Regulus begins, aiming his eyes down to his lap. “I wasn’t the brightest kid and I thought those lights over there were the stars he was going on about. I told him I wanted to touch my star and he said that no one has ever done that. But, I told him it looked just a few miles away.”
James holds in a snicker, wanting to make some sort of sarcastic remark. But, he holds onto his tongue, biting down hard.
“You guys still plan on going?” He asks instead.
Regulus doesn’t answer. He leaves James with the roaring of the wind, blowing hard against the building and the two of them. The rustling of branches from trees carries into the wind, dragging it around them, providing something to hold onto as Regulus leaves James hanging.
He doesn’t speak for a long time, sitting in a still position. His legs have stopped swinging, hanging over the ledge of the roof unmoving, except for the occasional wind swaying his legs to the side. James sits, fingers restlessly trying to find some sort of loose thread to pull on from his pants. They make their way to his face where he picks at acne scars and scabs left from hormones. He doesn’t know how he’s managed to sit this still, sit in the same position with silence, mouth almost seeming sewed shut from the lack of words escaping his mouth.
When Regulus does speak, it surprises James.
“Thank you.”
James stops his legs from moving, holding them motionless. He racks his brain over that sentence, processing the two words Regulus has once again spoken, letting it roam between them and fill James’ ears.
“For what?” James chuckles slightly. His face heats up. “I haven’t done anything.”
Regulus picks his head up and turns to face James, his eyes soaking into James’ gaze and holding it. “Just, thank you.”
“Are you still drugged up?”
Something unsettling stirs in his stomach, fighting over the flips of excitement and urges.
Regulus snickers at that. “Perhaps.”
He bites down on his lip, his heart jumping, seeming to almost reach his throat. His hands are sweaty, even with the bitter wind drying out his skin. Everything feels surreal and complex, letting James explore something new, something that his mind and soul have never touched before. His brain is staggered, feeling very empty but so very full and busy at the same time.
The unsettling feeling continues to stir, trying to dominate over the fluttery feeling and James can’t help but notice how it’s taking over. His body, once before light and almost shaky with nerves that felt good, now feels heavy and anxiety bound. His shoulders are knotted, sagging, and his throat is tight, heart beating faster from racing thoughts.
He wants it to go away. James wants to shove the fear and everything with it under a rug and lock it in a closet. He wants to throw away the key and embrace the butterflies, banging into his ribcage. He wants his mind to travel and think about unspeakable things, things too messy for a diary notation or to be spoken out loud, in fear of embarrassment. James wants to feel fluttery and light, experience something new and very loud, buzzing his entire body with some sort of high.
James wants to break rules but at the same time, place them, holding them there and ensuring them. James wants to experience touch but also wants nothing of the sort, wearing three different kinds of gloves all at the same time. He wants to talk and mumble, share and listen, explore and develop. Yet, he also wants to run away, hide, glue his mouth shut and tie his tongue.
His vision continues to consist of Regulus, peering at him through his gray eyes. His lashes, long and dark, bat against his upper cheek, capturing James’ view.
James’ own tongue rolls across his lips, something deep within him escaping and filling him. It feels like want. It longs for wanting something.
He looks away from Regulus.
“Reg-” James starts, cringing at himself. He cuts himself off with a long exhale.
“Hm?”
And James doesn’t know what to say. He’s lost for words, the only thing he’s sure of is the fear, crawling around him and overpowering that want. His body is tight, heavy and anxious, no longer feeling warm and curious.
“I can’t.” He says, unsure about what else he could say.
“You can’t what?”
Why is Regulus making this so difficult?
“I just,” James starts, racking his brain for something else he could say. “Can’t.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Regulus says, voice laced with confusion.
James almost groans. “Regulus, I don’t want to endanger you.”
Tension forms around them, thick and heavy. It drags, making this beat of silence feel like a decade to James when in reality, it’s only been a mere few seconds.
“You aren’t.” Regulus firmly puts, his voice a bit louder than before.
“Yes, Regulus, I am.”
“You aren’t.” He repeats.
“Regulus,” James says, turning to finally look at him. “I don’t- I can’t-”
“What?”
“I’m not going to hurt your chances.”
“My chances?” Regulus asks, eyebrows knitted together. “My chances for what?”
“Lungs!” James cries, holding his gaze. “Lungs, Reg.”
Regulus doesn’t say anything. And if he were, James doesn’t let him.
“I won’t let my B. Cepacia harm you. You or Sirius, for that matter.” James says, all at once. He doesn’t even know if Regulus can understand him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“James-”
“No, Regulus.” James cuts in, swallowing hard. He grinds his teeth, almost wanting to hear a crack but nothing happens. The only sound he can hear is the rumble of his teeth roughly sliding against each other, his jaw strained.
“What are you saying?” Regulus asks, still visibly confused.
James lets out a breath of annoyance. He ruffles his hair, letting his hair become even messier than before. “I’m not sure.”
“You aren’t sure?”
“No,” James huffs out. “No, Regulus. I’m not sure. I don’t-”
“So why are you, all of a sudden, going on about this?” Regulus asks, folding his hands in his lap. His face is flushed with emotions, his face more guarded than before. “What is this?”
“I don’t,” James mumbles, eyes dry from the wind. “I don’t know.”
Regulus stays quiet, his eyes flickering around his face, trying to find something.
“I just don’t want to take your lungs away from you.”
“You aren’t going to.”
“I could.” James says, still trying to argue. “You don’t know what could happen.”
“It’s not like we’re breaking any rules,” Regulus points out. “And we barely see each other in person.”
“So why are you,” James questions. “Fighting against this?”
Regulus’ mouth parts open, now seeming lost for words. James waits, keeping his eyes on him.
“Did Poppy say something?” Regulus asks, ignoring James’ question.
James bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to get you sick. That’s all.”
“I’m already fucking sick James,” Regulus starts, his face going through a series of emotions. “We’re already sick. You can’t get me more sick.”
“Yes, I can, Regulus. Have you not been listening to yourself these past weeks?”
“You aren’t going to get me sick.”
“What is this?” James says, waving a hand between him and Regulus. His eyebrows are furrowed, deep enough to instantly form wrinkles. He changes the subject completely, now focused on the way Regulus is acting.
“What is what?”
“Us!” James nearly shouts, his hands going down to grip the edge of the ledge. His knuckles are white and small rocks poke his palms, digging into his skin. “Why are you fighting against this? You ignored me for days. You barely wanted anything to do with me. And now-”
“It’s-” Regulus starts, voice getting caught in the wind. He stammers, trying to find something to say.
“It’s what, Regulus?”
“I don’t know.”
James breathes in, feeling his lungs tighten up and a cough form in his throat. The harsh winds get caught in his airways, his throat becoming itchy.
“You aren’t endangering me, James.”
“It’s not just you, Regulus. It’s Sirius too.”
Regulus narrows his eyes at James. “So, you’re going to find Sirius after this and end it off with him? Toss him on the side of the road with his suitcase and medication?”
“No, that’s-”
“Exactly,” Regulus mutters, his hands twitching in his lap. “So, why are you- why is this-”
“It’s different.”
“How?”
James freezes for a moment. How is it different? James doesn’t know. He just knows that it is. This is something James finds rare. The way he’s with Regulus is something he hasn’t experienced, and it’s thrilling. It’s daring, really it is. Being with Regulus fires something up in James, something that doesn’t happen with Sirius.
So, it’s different. James doesn’t know quite how to explain it, but all he knows is that it’s different.
“It’s just,” James pauses. “Different.”
Regulus scoffs. “Great explanation.”
“You wanna have another go at explaining what we are then?” James bites back.
He watches as Regulus rolls his eyes at him, feet kicking at the wall again in frustration.
“This is a waste of time.” Regulus mutters, tongue shoved in his cheek. He turns away from James, facing the sky once again. “Don’t even know why I came out here.”
“I haven’t a clue either.” James shrugs, copying Regulus and staring up at the stars.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Regulus replies, his voice coated in snarkiness. “Have you somehow discovered how to read an individual’s mind?”
“Don’t be bitchy.”
“Enough,” Regulus huffs out, his voice carrying over the wind. “I’m leaving. Do whatever you want, James.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Did I not just say that?”
James turns his head, facing Regulus once more. Even though Regulus had said he was leaving, he hasn’t moved. He’s still in his spot, his eyes flickering between James’. Frustration covers his face, flashing in his eyes. His nostrils flare with annoyance and his mouth is tilted downwards.
He doesn’t want Regulus to leave. Not on this note. He hadn’t wanted to leave Regulus in the first place. James just couldn’t handle the anxiety looming over him, the fear pulsing in his veins with his stomach lurching in waves of nerves. He couldn’t go through the images of Regulus or Sirius, losing their privilege of fresh lungs.
Regulus doesn’t seem to want to leave either. He’s frozen in place, not moving. His words are empty actions, left to the wind to drift along and leave them.
“You still leaving?” James asks.
“Do you want me to?”
No.
James doesn't say a word. He holds his gaze with Regulus, his own frustration leaving him at once and filling him with a fluttery feeling, his heart dancing in his chest in a rapid rhythm. His throat is tight, disabling James’ ability to speak.
Even with James sitting here, silent as a stag, Regulus understands. Somehow, he gets something out of James’ eyes.
Regulus’ annoyance does not fade, nor does it falter. But slowly, his body relaxes once more and his guard is lessened, allowing James to peek into the real him.
The wind surrounds them, cleaning the argument and leaving them fresh and curious, daring almost. James continues to feel that unsettling feeling, deep in his stomach, wanting to take over and invade his thoughts, his soul, his mind. But, he fights against it, wanting to sit.
James wants to sit here, with Regulus, six feet apart.