James has never been drunk before. He’s been to plenty of parties, and he’s undoubtedly gotten buzzed, but not like this. He likes the sensation, how the alcohol burns his throat and pools in his stomach. He feels as if everything is fuzzy, softer, and less intense than it typically is.
He knows he’s supposed to be fine, that everything in his life points to a well-balanced mind and a bright future. He thinks about how he’s lucky to have loving parents as the grip around his waist tightens. Regulus’ parents disowned him, hated him, and burned him, yet here he is, laughing with everyone else. He thinks about how Remus is resting in their room, the full moon only a few days away. He thinks about Lily and her sister, how she’s torn between two worlds and wonders how she can balance it. He thinks about how each of his friends has perfectly valid reasons to fall apart on the inside when he doesn’t.
Because he does not.
Yet, he still is.
He leans forward to grab his bottle and immediately tries to take a swig, then frowns when there’s nothing left. Has he already finished it? “Reg, spell me another. My wand is in the room.” He almost laughs at how slurred his voice sounds.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Regulus chides, taking the bottle out of his grip. James frowns at his empty hand, mind catching up to his surroundings.
“M’ not drunk.”
“Prongs, you are very drunk,” Sirius laughs loudly.
“Reg, tell him,” he says, turning to face his boyfriend. “Tell him I’m not drunk.”
“Love, you’re only standing because I’m holding you up. You’re pissed.” James rolls his eyes at that, but he sinks into him more, appreciating the warmth. Regulus might be shorter than James, but he has always loved the feeling of being held, especially by him.
“I never thought Head Boy Potter would get drunk for the first time before N.E.W.T.’s,” mocks Barty, and the words hit him harder than he wants them to— he knows he should be care more about his future than he does. But he doesn’t. He can’t. It’s a truth harder to ignore while drunk.
He wants to say he’s not perfect, but he also wants to make a joke, so he does that instead. “M’ like a magician, I keep my moves to myself.”
Regulus laughs then, and it makes him feel warmer inside. “James, you are an open book.”
Sirius throws the ball of paper he’s been rolling at his brother, and it hits him in the forehead. “Don’t forget he was my boyfriend first, you thief.”
“Sirius, you literally never dated.” Regulus momentarily lets go of him to bend down to grab the ball and throw it back, causing Sirius to giggle.
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“No, really, I’m a trickster,” James interrupts, wanting the attention back on him. As much as he loves it when Sirius jokes about them dating, he wants Regulus to look at him. “I tricked you two into making up. Brotherly love and all that.”
“You didn’t trick me, love,” Regulus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling softly.
“I tricked you into dating me.” At that, he snorts.
“If you remember, I liked you first.”
“I trick you every day, and you don’t even know it.”
He fails at his attempt to wink at him, too drunk to really think about what he’s hinting at. Regulus raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. James wishes he would, because then he might not find himself saying the words he’s kept hidden for so long.
“For my next trick, I’ll kill myself.” He laughs as soon as the words come out; he’s never said them aloud, and they feel funny on his tongue. He feels the arms wrapped around him tighten instinctively, but they loosen as Regulus spins James around. The room sways as he faces Reg.
“Alright, love, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
James frowns, confused. “I’m fine, Reggie.” He leans in to kiss him on the cheek, but Regulus spins him back around and starts walking him to the stairs. He feels a little sick, though he’s unsure if it's from the sudden movement or from what he just said.
James has always been a planner. He’s grown accustomed to analyzing his plans step by step, mentally going through every detail. Naturally, it was the same the first time he considered what it’d be like to take his life away. He’s even thought it out, down to what time in his schedule he could slip away unnoticed, what potion he could use, and where he would get the ingredients. He’s thought about how easy it would be, how no one would see it coming, how people would need and miss him, but how they’d move past it. His friends have lost things before; he figures they could handle losing him, too.
He just isn’t sure when he started to live for other people and not for himself. He knows it has been true for quite some time, at least since the beginning of the year, but James is not sure when he became accustomed to it. Living for others became a part of him, an intrinsic truth. And, if he’s being honest, it scares him. He never meant to get used to the idea that his life was meaningless, that he would be better off dead, but it ran through his head more and more, shoving its way into so many mental corridors and neural alcoves until he can’t avoid confronting his reality anymore.
He’s considered reaching out to someone, but James has never been good at reaching out for help. Professor McGonagall wouldn’t judge him, but he didn’t know what she could do to help him. His parents are lovely, but he knows they worry about Sirius and Regulus enough already, and he doesn’t want to add to that.
He knows he never wanted to tell his friends, though.
That’s what makes it all the more embarrassing that he had blurted it out to the entire Gryffindor common room as a joke.
When he wakes up, he’s being held by Regulus, their usual cuddling position switched. James was always the one to hold him. He could try to get up, but that would most likely wake Regulus, and then Sirius and everyone else would hear, and it would all become so horribly real. James didn’t want it to be real. He wanted it to be a nightmare. He wanted to pretend that they had taken it as a joke.
But he was smart enough to know Regulus wouldn’t be holding him if he didn’t realize something was wrong. Regulus wouldn’t stay over so close to finals if he wasn’t worried. Regulus wouldn’t have a concerned look on his face, even in his sleep, if he didn’t know– or at least suspect– what James had said was true.
His best friends know him well enough to see right through him when he declares things like killing himself as a party trick. James feels, again, that sick, burning sensation in his stomach. They must have realized it wasn’t truly a joke. It was something real. Something he’s considered. Something he’s planned out. Something he’s too afraid to do.
Regulus is holding onto him tighter than he ever has before, the room so painfully quiet that the silence feels like it will swallow him whole– like it’s the yawning jaw of the lion that he is supposed to be– and James Potter has never felt smaller than he does at that moment. Because they know.
Those in the common room that heard had laughed, taking it as a joke. But his classmates don’t know him, not like Regulus does. Not like Sirius, Lily, or Peter do. They don’t know he wouldn’t have joked about suicide if he hadn’t actually felt that before.
James loves other people so profoundly, so wholeheartedly, it takes over everything in him to the point where– when it comes to himself– he has no love left to give. He finds that he cares more about how his friends will now worry than his own humiliation. And he hates that he feels that way because this should be about him, right? It was his mistake, his funeral, but all he can think about is how it will affect others. All he can care about is the owl sure to come in the next few days with a letter from his mum telling him how much she loves him.
Sometime in the last few years, he got so exhausted from carrying the weight of everyone who loves him, but it has never felt heavier than it does at this moment. He can’t help but wonder what the point of him carrying on living is. Is it to spare those who will miss him the pain of losing him? Does it still count as sparing them if he’s causing them this much worry while he’s alive? Or is he selfishly assuming other people care enough so he can keep feeling like he has some sort of purpose in life?
He decides it is selfish to assume the people around him need him, but he can’t help feeling like his life is worthless if he isn’t needed. He can handle not being wanted, and he can handle feeling embarrassed, but he can’t handle not being needed. But being needed was what caused him to spiral in the first place, so who would he become if he couldn’t be there for the people who needed him? How did his life become so twisted that he suddenly became someone needing to be held?
Very carefully, James moves away from Regulus and silently thanks the fates that he didn’t wake up. He wastes no time leaving the dorm, stopping only to write a note to Regulus, letting him know he is heading to their spot. He has no interest in waiting for his friends to wake up, knowing they would all be very dramatic. He usually loves it when they dote on him, but not now.
He walks through the common room quickly, not wanting anyone to talk to him, and he’s grateful the sun hasn’t risen yet, and most people are asleep. Waking up with the sun is a routine he has gotten used to, but his head is pounding from the hangover, and he sorely wishes he had sunglasses.
There is a secluded spot outside of the castle that Regulus took a liking to in his fourth year. He showed James the alcove when they first started dating. In the past, Regulus used it when he needed to focus on studying or when he was in the middle of a particularly good book. More recently, He and James put it to better use, going there to snog or cuddle whenever they wanted to.
He makes his way there, thankful no one stops him. Just sitting there makes him feel lighter like the space can cleanse the heaviness inside him. He wishes he had a bottle of Amortentia so he could smell Regulus. James tells himself he should be waking up soon, and he takes comfort in that. It somewhat scares him that he wants Regulus with him, even though he does not want the conversation his presence will bring.
James waits there, not really looking at anything in particular, until he feels warmth next to him. He looks over and sees Regulus sitting next to him. James opens his arms and doesn’t even have to ask; Regulus leans back into him, sliding into place. They sit like that for a while, watching the sunrise.
Regulus is the first one to speak up. “James, you’re not okay.” He instinctively tenses up but makes himself relax again, not wanting to pull away. A small voice inside of James tells him to brush it off, to say that he’s fine, that it was just a joke, but there’s a louder one yelling at him to let Regulus see all of him.
“I know.” He hasn’t spoken since he woke, so his voice is gruff and strained. He runs his hand through Regulus’ hair, hoping the touch will comfort them both.
“James..” He sits silently for a moment, likely unsure what to say. He pulls away before he can protest and shifts so they’re making eye contact. There’s a sadness in his eyes, but overwhelmingly, he’s looking at James with love.
“You know that I’ve always had a difficult time being open when I’m struggling.” James nods because he does know. He was there when Regulus showed up at his doorstep, mirroring the time Sirius had years before. He listened to Sirius rant about how difficult Regulus was being, not knowing why he wouldn’t open up and just tell his brother what was wrong. He gets it now.
Taking that as a response, Regulus presses on. “I didn’t realize you had that issue, too.”
James doesn’t say anything for a long time, and Regulus lets him process. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s terrified. He wants to trust him, to let him in and see everything dark and twisted inside of him, but he’s afraid that would make him leave. He logically knows that Regulus would never do that to him because that was his fear, but frankly, his anxiety does not listen to logic.
His voice comes out shaky. “Yeah. I didn’t mean for it to come out like.. That.” He cringes, knowing he wasn’t planning on talking about this at all. Regulus seems to understand that. He hadn’t planned on dealing with his parents until it became too much to handle. He figures this became unbearable for him, too.
Regulus runs his hand through his curls, pulling him closer. He leans into the touch, grateful for his presence. “I know.”
They sit together in silence, watching the sunrise, but mainly looking at each other. James’ breath had been shallow, but he now finds himself breathing in tandem with Regulus, only calming down because he can focus on his breathing.
After a while, Regulus leans back a bit, making eye contact with him. James realizes he looks nervous. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re always out of reach from me. It's like.. you’re an open book most of the time, but you shut down when I’m truly getting to know you.”
James isn’t sure how to feel about this. A small panic rises in him, but Regulus seeing him is what he’s always wanted, isn’t it?
“I want you to see right through me. I want you to like what you see and stay. But Reg-” he takes a shaky breath, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “That terrifies me, Reggie.”
In response, Regulus kisses the tip of his nose, causing James to smile softly. “I know, James. Merlin- I’m still scared by this. I’m scared I’m getting too close. But the fear just means there’s something good between us. Something I’m afraid to lose.” He pauses, and James thinks he must want him to really understand this. “It’s okay that you’re afraid to lose me, but you won’t. Ever. I’m annoyingly talented at staying in people’s lives even when they don’t want it.”
James chuckles at this and finds himself feeling lighter than he’s felt in months. “I’ll always want you in my life, Reggie. No matter what.”
“Oh, don’t do that. You can’t be all romantic when I’m trying to make you feel better. At least one of us has to be the grump.”
“As cute as you are when you’re grumpy, I like it when you’re sweet. How can I not repay you with kind words?” He kisses his cheek, grinning at how his face flushes.
“Shut it. I’m not sweet. I’m just a good boyfriend.”
“Whatever you say, Reginold.”
Regulus glares at him, but his eyes are soft, and he can’t quite keep a straight face for once. “You’re lucky we’re dating. I would hex you if you were anyone else. Even Sirius.”
“And I love you for that.” Regulus seems content with that response as he simply leans back into him, turning his attention to the almost complete sunrise. James is immensely grateful that they could slip back into their usual banter. He realizes he was worried this would somehow change things between them, but he now knows it wouldn’t.
James knows he needs to reach out for proper help, but at that moment, he can’t help but feel like Regulus has given him enough reassurance for a lifetime.