carpe diem

19

(5 new text from 'lady gaga's fan club')

Barty (16:33) reggie

Barty (16:33) reg

Bray (16:33) ReGuLuS

Barty (16:33) REGGGGGIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barty (16:33)

Regulus (16:45) what?

Barty (16:45) HE’S ALIVE!!!!!!

Evan (16:46) holy shit he lives

Regulus (16:47) i’ve been studying what tf do you want?

Evan (16:48) so sorry for us MISSING OUR BEST FRIEND?????

Barty (16:49) reggie-kins, are you home?

Regulus (16:55) why?

Barty (16:56) because we're going out tonight and pres are at yours

Regulus (16:58) im not going out tonight i have a shift tomorrow

Evan (16:58) we know but its tradition to have pres at yours

Regulus (17:00) no it's not, what's the real reason you want to come over?

Barty (17:01) because we want to raid your drinks cupboard?

Evan (17:01) because i want to steal your jewellery

Pandora (17:02) we haven't seen you all week and we know you saw Sirius

Regulus (17:07) the door is unlocked. let yourselves in

Regulus (17:08) and bring dinner

Truthfully, Regulus has been studying. It’s not a total lie. He’s been sat at his desk all day yesterday and all day today since Sirius left the previous morning. Sure, he’s spent plenty of time wasting just staring unseeingly at the page, and he’s pretty sure whatever he has done hasn’t sunk in in the slightest, but he’s tried.

He’ll be damned if Sirius ruin his life after just coming back into it. With Barty moving out last week as his flat was finally restored after the flood, these two days were planned to be designated to catching up on the work he’d fallen behind in the last few weeks, and he’s not going to allow Sirius to ruin it.

His friends abrupt self-invitation to his flat isn’t something he’s actually bothered about. He’s aware he’s gone off the grid since meeting up with Sirius, and he knows they didn’t deserve that as they all knew Regulus had received a text as a form of an olive branch from his estranged brother. However, since it happened, Regulus just hasn't been able to bring himself to talk about it. He knows his friends will give him whatever support he needs: be it boosting him up and slagging Sirius off, enabling his anger and hatred, or wiping his tears and telling him that they’re going to be there for him. Whatever Regulus was in the mood for, he knows his friends wouldn’t have failed to accommodate to support him.

Yet, Regulus just couldn’t do it.

He hasn’t wanted to see anyone yet. Talking about it has felt beyond impossible, simply because the whole event of has exhausted him. He’s felt too drained to even formate a sentence out loud. He’s barely texted James, who seemed to understand immediately and said he’ll be there whenever Regulus is ready.

Regulus feels pretty guilty for shutting his friends out. Sure, he feels better for it. The two days alone has made him feel like he can breath again, but his head has gone from feeling empty to feeling too full. He’s gone from exhausted to creeping up on jittery, so his apartment suddenly becoming busy couldn’t have come at a better time.

He’s still in his little flat-office when he hears the front door go. He frowns, looking at the small clock at the top of his laptop screen. Almost an hour has passed since Barty invited them all over, and Regulus didn’t even realise. 

"Regulus!" A shout echoes through the flat, followed by a couple of cheers and yelps.

Sylvester, who was curled up on his lap, startles and darts out of the room.

"Star!" Another voice calls. "We’re here! The friends you’ve neglected for days and weeks and months!"

Regulus rolls his eyes. After a beat of silence, a shrill, ear-piercing scream shoots through the flat.

"REGULUS!"

Grumbling, Regulus rips away from his desk, the chair swaying back with the momentum. He slams his laptop screen down, stalking out of the office. 

"Please stop screaming, you’ll disturb my neighbours," he says as he walks into the main part of the flat.

Evan rolls his eyes from where he's placing a filled and tied plastic bag, that smells suspiciously of Chinese food, on the island top. "Your neighbours are deaf."

"Even deaf people in Australia can hear you."

Evan grins at Barty, who's leaning against the kitchen counter with a bottle of vodka and another of gin in either hand. Pandora is stroking Sylvester, who's perched on the back of the sofa, looking at him fondly. They're all dressed up, glam and smart for their pending night out. Regulus feels a spike of envy at the fact he can't go because of work, but then he squashes it quickly. If he didn't have work, he'd end up finding an excuse to get out of the drunken night at the Leaky. He's just not in the mood at the moment.

"Wow, it’s so good to see you again," Barty drawls sarcastically, "My, haven’t you changed in the time we’ve been apart. It’s been so long, my love—"

"Shut up," Regulus huffs at the dramatics. "I literally saw you," he points at Barty, "four days ago at work. I saw you," he points at Evan, "last Friday, and I saw you," he points at Pandora, "three nights ago when we FaceTimed on my break at four AM."

"That’s a lifetime in dog years," Barty quips.

"Glad we’re all in agreement that you’re a dirty mutt," Regulus grumbles, opening his arms when Pandora comes up to him, enveloping her in the hug she’s clearly going for.

"I’d say you’re more of a Chinese Crested Dog," Evan adds, flashing a shit eating grin.

"I’m literally the tallest one out of the group? How the fuck am I one of those?" Barty cries. "Plus! My ears do not stick out of my hair like that!"

"If we’re talking looks wise, you’re definitely a pug," Regulus smirks, placing a kiss to Pandora’s hair when she tucks her face into his chest. "You look like you’ve ran face first into a glass window and your nose never recovered."

"Fuck you, Black," Barty hisses.

Regulus almost laughs. "Still missed me?"

"We all have," Pandora says as she pulls away from him, arms still circled around his waist. "We’ve all been worried about you."

"Nothing to worry about," Regulus argues.

"You look tired, mon étoile (my star)," Pandora murmurs, frowning as she looks up at him. Her hands cup his face, thumbs gently brushing underneath his eyes. "Have you been sleeping?"

"She’s not joking, mate," Evan adds, nodding. "You look pretty awful."

"You need a drink," Barty winks, already getting out the glasses.

"I have a shift," Regulus argues, but Barty just shakes his head.

"One won’t hurt," Barty shrugs, but Pandora instantly shakes her head.

"No. We have food first," she says, looking at Regulus sharply. "Have you eaten today?"

"Of course I have," Regulus rolls his eyes at her mother act.

She raises a pale blonde eyebrow at him. "When?"

Regulus opens his mouth, but the words die in his tongue. He tries to remember what he had for lunch, but then realises he’s spent the whole day in his office. He thinks back to the morning, but knows he only had a coffee when he got up.

Oops.

"Exactly," she huffs, rolling her eyes. She pats his chest and says, "We brought Chinese, and we got you extra mini vegetable spring rolls."

"A woman after my own heart," Regulus smiles, kissing her cheek.

"Hey!" Barty yelps. "I paid for it!"

"Shh," Pandora smiles. "Barty, get the plates. Evan, make everyone a soft drink, and—"

"There’s wine in the fridge," Regulus interrupts, and Evan’s eyes light up as he practically dives for the door.

Pandora glares at him. "Can we really not have one meal without alcohol?"

"No," Regulus replies seriously.

By the time they’re seated in the living room, plates on laps and wine glasses filled, Regulus can tell they’re all itching to speak about what they truly came over for.

"Where do you want me to start?" He asks, after a few mouthfuls of rice.

"Have you forgiven him?" Barty asks, not even flinching when Evan smacks his arm and hisses dude, we promised to not pressure him!

"No," Regulus answers honestly. "He said his reasons, and I guess from his point of view I understand them, but I’m not ready to pretend it never happened."

"What did happen?" Pandora asks.

"Yeah, mate," Evan nods, "what reason could he possibly come up with to excuse the last eight fucking years.

So Regulus tells them. He tells them absolutely everything.

He tells them what it was like after Sirius started school, from his perspective and Sirius’. He talks about how Sirius withdrew from him and the house as he made new friends.

He talks about how he changed his own attitude, adapting to the ways of the house to receive less punishments as he was left alone with his parents more.

He talks about how Sirius didn’t see through his acting and thought he was changing.

He talks about Sirius hating him for becoming like their parents.

He talks about Regulus then hating Sirius for drifting away from him.

He talks about Sirius running away, having not mentioned Regulus for years to his friends because he was so consumed by this new version of himself.

He talks about how crushed Sirius seemed when Regulus revealed that their parents were still abusive assholes even after Sirius had left.

He talks about Sirius apologising, about turning up at his door after Regulus stormed out of the cafe.

He talks about how he understands where Sirius has come from, that he knows if he’d been in Sirius’ shoes, in a new world with new people to become himself, he would have got caught up in it too. Regulus did when he moved to London, he became a better version of himself, his true self. Sirius just managed to do it seven years earlier.

He talks about how despite he understands why Sirius did what he did, why he ran away and didn’t take Regulus with him, that it still hurts.

He talks about how he isn’t ready to full forgive, because at the end of the day, Sirius still left him behind with the two cruelest people in the world.

By the time he’s finished, his throat is sore. He feels exhausted, fatigue settled deep in his bones and his muscles like a permanent fixture.

"Well…" Evan breathes, slouching as if the weight of Regulus’ explanation has physically weighed him down.

"Yep," Regulus nods, shoving half a mini spring roll in his mouth.

Beside him, Pandora’s hand snakes into his hair, gently massaging the scalp in a way that has Regulus almost purring as if he’s a cat.

"That sounds very complicated," she says.

Regulus snorts. "It was always going to be. There’s nothing uncomplicated about my fucking family."

"I can’t believe he did all that," Evan frowns.

"It’s not entirely his fault," Regulus defends weakly. "Most of it was subconscious survival skills. He survived that house by growing a back bone and fighting them, I survived by playing the role they wanted."

"Doesn’t make it okay," Pandora argues. "He still left you there. He still cut you out even before he thought you changed."

"He was just trying to live," Regulus says. "I would have done the same if I’d had the opportunity. He didn’t even realise he was doing it until he thought he’d lost me."

"Then he should have fought to get you back, not leave you there alone with those fucking psychopaths," Barty snaps, and when they all nod, Regulus finds he doesn’t have a defence to bring to the table.

Sirius shouldn’t have left him. He should have tried to get through to Regulus, even if Regulus was pushing him away. They were brothers, they were meant to have an unconditional love for one another.

Yet, Regulus still can’t quite blame him entirely.

They were only kids.

Sirius may have been the older brother, but he was only 16.

"Did he really believe that you were safe with them?" Pandora asks.

Regulus nods solemnly. "Yep. He thought because I was the child they wanted that they wouldn’t lay a finger on me once he was gone."

"Is he thick?" Evan asks angrily.

Regulus smiles. "Apparently so."

"Someone needs to throat punch that motherfucker," Barty snarls, shaking his head.

"I did."

Three sets of wide eyes snap towards him.

Pandora’s hand pauses in his hair.

"What?"

"Well," Regulus shrugs, sipping his wine. "I only punched him in the face. I would have throat punched but I didn’t want to risk him throwing up on my doormat."

"You punched Sirius?" Evan asks breathlessly, the shock slipping and corners of his lips beginning to curl up.

"Technically, he asked me to," Regulus adds. "But, yes. I punched him."

Evan barks a laugh, throwing his head back. He even punches the air, and Regulus can’t help but feel a bit smug about it.

"You make us very proud, mon étoile (my star)," Pandora says fondly, kissing his temple.

"Does this mean I can’t punch him?" Barty asks.

Regulus shakes his head. "You’re an adult and I can’t control your actions."

Barty claps his hands, grinning from ear to ear. "That’s permission to me!"

"Barty, no," Pandora scolds.

Something animalistic and feral flashes in the older boys eyes. "Barty, yes!"

Regulus shakes his head fondly at the way light in Barty’s face as he practically vibrates on the sofa with excitement.

"What has James said?" Pandora asks. 

"Not much," Regulus admits. "He’s said he won’t get involved unless I want him too. I spoke to him on the phone the afternoon after Sirius went home, and he seemed pretty determined to make sure I was okay. He said he was worried, about both of us, but mostly about making sure I was okay here on my own."

"That’s very kind of him," Pandora says softly. "He’s a good one, isn’t he?"

"Is he not taking sides?" Evan asks.

"I don’t think so," Regulus answers honestly. "He hasn’t tried to defend Sirius in a while. He’s just said he sees both sides, but at the same time, he always seems to get annoyed when talking about how Sirius never mentioned me or took me with him. I don’t think he wants to slag Sirius off to me, but I think deep down he’s angry at him too."

"As he fucking should!" Barty growls. "I don’t even want to think about how much your life would have changed if he’d just fucking dragged you to the Potters with him."

Regulus has thought about that. He’s thought about it a lot.

How much would his life have changed? To have lived in a safe, loving home from when he was 15 instead of trying to survive the French version of Grimmauld Place alone with his parents?

Regulus and Sirius both ran away from home with matching wounds, but it seems most of Sirius’ have healed, yet Regulus still feels black and blue inside and out.

"How long do you think James is going to be able to play peacekeeper?" Evan asks. "It sounds like you and Sirius have hashed it out, but rightfully, you’re not ready to bury it and move on. So how long is James going to be able to have his ball in both courts before you make him choose?"

"I won’t make him choose," Regulus replies quickly.

He won’t, he wouldn’t even dream of it.

He’s too scared that if he did, James wouldn’t choose him.

"You’re not very good at sharing, mon étoile (my star)," Pandora muses, but despite the fond and teasing manner of her voice, Regulus can hear the trepidation in it.

She’s not wrong: Regulus really isn’t good at sharing.

He didn’t like sharing Sirius with his friends when they were younger.

He doesn’t like the idea of sharing James with someone else.

"Fucking typical, isn’t it?" Evan says suddenly. "You’ve avoided relationships and commitment like the plague for 23 years, you’re finally opened yourself up to someone for more than a shag, and you managed to pick the one person in London who’s best friends with your estranged and cunty brother."

For the second time, Pandora’s hand pauses in his hair. The room goes so silent after Evan’s fantastic statement that Regulus is sure a dropped pin could be heard as easily as a bomb destroying the building.

Regulus glares at the blonde with a look he hopes will chill the dickhead to the bone, feeling the sudden urge to smack him off his sofa.

"Yes, I'm fully fucking aware of that," Regulus snaps sharply. "Thank you for pointing that out!"

Evan winces, cringing back into the sofa, and holds his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, Reg," he apologises.

"You're such an insensitive bastard," Barty hisses, smacking him on the shoulder.

"What!" Evan cries. "You're just as bad! No, you're even worse!"

"You've made him look like a kicked puppy!"

"You make him look like he wants to kill himself!"

"Hey!" Pandora shouts, and when they both look at her, she swipes two spring rolls from Regulus' plate and throws them both, impressively managing to hit them both. "Stop it, both of you!"

"Sorry," they both murmur together, brushing off the pastry crumbs from their clothes.

"Sorry, Reg," Barty adds. "You don't actually wanna kill yourself tho, do you?"

Evan kicks him in the shin, frowning. "You can’t ask people that!"

Barty grunts, grabbing his shin and glaring heatedly at Evan. "What? But—"

"I don’t want to kill myself," Regulus drawls. "I would like you two to shut up though."

For a beat, they both stare at him.

Then, Evan nods. "Fair."

"Yeah," Barty adds. "That’s fair."

Regulus rolls his eyes, draining the remainder of his wine.

"We need more drinks!" Barty announces, bouncing off the sofa. "I brought vodka and gin. Reg, do you have the stuff for martinis?"

"No," Regulus replies. "I drank it all with Sirius."

"Can’t believe you wasted alcohol on that twat," Evan grumbles.

"Oh, is the litre bottle of vodka and the litre bottle of gin not enough for you?" Regulus quips, and when Evan doesn’t answer, he looks at Barty in the kitchen. "There’s an unopened bottle of tequila in the cupboard. Knock yourselves out."

"Fuck yeah!" Barty cheers.

Two days later, Regulus is just getting changed out of his scrubs after his shift when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

James (18:38) you free to talk on the phone?

Seconds later, another one comes through.

James (18:38) NOTHIGN TO WORRY ABOUT! Pls don’t panic!!!!

Regulus rolls his eyes, and refuses to acknowledge the fact that his heart initially picked up at the first text and immediately begins to calm again when he reads the second.

He presses James’ contact, and the older man picks up on the second ring.

"Hello, my darling," James’ sickly sweet voice comes through.

"Hi, dickhead," Regulus responds as he puts the phone on speaker and places it in his open locker as he gets changed.

"Always a sweetheart," James laughs. "How was your shift?"

"Same shit different day," Regulus replies, tossing the scrub trousers in the wash basket.

"Two out of five done, that’s got to feel good at least?"

"I’m not even half way through."

"We need to work on that pessimistic attitude," James chuckles. "What are you doing after work?"

"Going home, showering, eating a microwave curry, reading as much of If We Were Villains as I can until my eyes burn, then going to sleep," Regulus explains, grunting slightly as he almost loses his balance getting his jeans on. "I live for the eat, sleep, rave and repeat lifestyle."

"Clearly," James muses. "How would you feel about a change of plans?"

Regulus pauses in stripping his scrub top. "What do you have in mind?"

"Going home, eating a takeaway Indian on the sofa with me, drinking a responsible amount of red wine together while watching the new episode of Master Chef," James says. "Oh! And perhaps a little cheeky shower share. You know, to save water."

Regulus grins. He can’t help it, and he’s so glad that James is only on the phone and not in front of him to see the way he knows his entire face as lit up.

"That sounds like a fairly pleasant evening," Regulus replies, once he’s managed to stop grinning like an idiot. "Especially the saving water part."

"Of course. You know how I feel about protecting the environment."

"Oh, yes."

"Really, I think it would be best if we shared every shower."

"Imagine all the water we’d save."

"I’m imagining it, alright," James replies, and Regulus can hear the smirk in his voice.

"What time do you want to save the planet?"

"Will you be home by 7:30?"

"With this kind of opportunity, I can be home by 7:15."

"Let’s say 7:30," James laughs. "I don’t fancy having a shower with you as a pancake because you railroaded your car."

"Are you doubting my driving?"

"With the offer of shower sex hanging over your head, yes."

"Your lack of faith in my driving skills is making me rethink my evening plans."

"Don’t be mean," James whines. "Let’s agree 7:30, then if you do get home earlier, then you can have 15 minutes of peace before the most relaxing, amazing, evening of February so far can begin."

"Deal."

"Wonderful!" James cheers. "See you soon, mi star!"

Regulus gets home by 7:15, and in his natural fashion, he sends James a photo of Sylvester at his feet as proof.

There’s a knock at 7:30 sharp, and Regulus can’t stop the smile that grows on his face when he see’s James standing on the other side of the door.

"Good evening to the most radiant doctor in London," James smiles widely.

"Only in London?" Regulus asks.

"The world," James corrects, shaking his head.

Then, he’s stepping forward and Regulus doesn’t even need to think when he meets the taller boy in the middle. Arms envelop around his back, warmth surrounds and Regulus just melts. He presses himself into James’ chest, tucking his head into the groove on his neck, and winding his arms around the waist he’s held onto so many times.

Any amount of tension leaks out of him in an instant. Any chill in him turns to heat, soothing the ache in his muscles from being on his feet all day, evaporating anything but the feeling of sunshine in his head.

All he can smell, feel and think is James.

James.

James.

James.

Fuck, he’s missed this.

He's missed him.

It’s been 13 days since their last date. James left the following afternoon, and despite it not even being two weeks, it’s felt like a lifetime. Regulus has been suffocated with shifts, meeting Sirius slap in the middle of the two runs of days at the hospital. He’s only spoken to James on the phone, and after seeing Sirius, Regulus barely gave him that. James respected the space Regulus needed, but now Regulus has closed the gap between them, he can’t believe he allowed it to last this long.

He hadn’t realised how dark the world felt until his sun came back.

"I missed you," Regulus says suddenly. The words tumble out before he can stop them. His brainpower has turned to mush. He speaks the words into the soft fabric of James’ jumper on his chest, so they come out muffled, but the way James slouches means he heard it loud and clear.

The arms around him move, and he almost whines at the loss until a finger is hooking under his chin, gently tilting his head up. James looks down at him, hands curling over his jaw, reaching around his neck.

He looks so soft, so gentle. His eyes are huge, warm, and Regulus wants to dive into them and keep floating.

"I missed you too," James whispers.

Then, they’re kissing.

Finally, Regulus thinks, as James presses his lips to his own.

Regulus’ whole body comes alive. His spine tingles, his stomach swoops, his nerves sing. He feels his body mould against James’, pushing up against him as if he’s trying to mould them into one. His head spins, his heart pounds. He can feel the blood rushing to his head, to his dick, and if he wasn’t gripping onto the fabric of James’ coat, he’s sure he’d float away.

Within seconds, it feels as if the world has disappeared. The noise, the chaos, the shadows and the complications, it’s all gone. The only thing that exists, is James.

His lungs are burning when they pull away. Their lips are still brushing as they both gasp, feeding their starving lungs of sweet oxygen. James doesn’t move his hands from Regulus’ face, and Regulus doesn’t ease the death grip he has on James’ jacket.

He can’t.

Not yet.

James might go again.

If Regulus lets go, he might lose his sun.

His warmth.

He’s not ready.

"I missed you so much," James murmurs softly, pressing another peck to his lips.

"I’m sorry," Regulus whispers, feeling the familiar tug of guilt in his chest.

"No," James replies, shaking his head. He presses their foreheads together, keeping their bodies pressed so, so close. "Don’t apologise, Reg. Never apologise. You needed space to process, and I wanted to give you that. I’m just happy you’re okay. All I want is for you to be okay."

"I’m okay," Regulus promises, desperate to take away any hurt he’s caused James.

James breathes deeply. "Really?"

"I will be," Regulus adds. "I’m already better now."

"Good," James replies, kissing him once more. When he pulls away, he smirks down at him and says, "Shower?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

Unsurprisingly, it takes them a while to shower. When they get out, both sated and clean, James checks on the update on the food he ordered before they got in. They have just enough time to pour themselves a glass each of wine, set the sofa and TV up before it arrives.

It’s only after they’ve finished eating and have put the dirty plates in the dishwasher, does Regulus ask, "Aren’t you going to ask?"

James looks up from where he’s standing at the island pouring them both another glass of wine. "Ask what?"

"About last week," Regulus says. "About seeing Sirius."

"No," James replies instantly. He straightens up, looking Regulus in the eye. His face is open, expression clear and kind. "This is the kind of thing that i want you to want to talk about. The only right I have is to ask if you're okay, if you need anything, if there is anything I can do. I don't want to ask, I don't want you to feel like you have to talk if you don't want to just to please me. This... I know this is complicated because he's my friend. I can't uncomplicate it, Reg, and I don't want to make you feel like you need to talk to me about it if you'd rather talk to someone else."

All at once, Regulus feel winded. He feels his breath catch his throat, his lungs spasm painfully for a moment. He can't do anything but blink stupidly, his mind trying to process what was just said.

He's known James is kind. He knows James is gentle, caring, compassionate. He knows James has a heart so large he considers any possible feeling the people he loves might feel. He knows that James is always thinking about other people, always supporting those he cares about, that his determination to make sure that everyone around him is happy and safe and loved is both his biggest strength and his biggest flaw.

He knows this, and yet, James has once again managed to surprise him.

"You..." he croaks, clearing his throat rapidly. "I don't... but..."

James smiles softly at his rambling. He rounds the kitchen island, handing Regulus his glass of wine before he's moving again, dropping down on the sofa.

Regulus stays standing. He feels frozen. His brain feels absolutely fried with surprise.

He looks at James, who's watching him patiently, passively.

"Are you real?" Regulus asks, embarrassingly breathless.

James chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Afraid so," and when Regulus still doesn't move, the older boy pats the seat on the sofa beside him, "Come and sit, darling."

Regulus does. He moves on auto pilot, legs wobbling but managing to get him to sit down without falling or dropping his wine.

As soon as he’s sat, James gently takes the glass out of his hand, placing it on the table before pulling Regulus into his side. Both his arms wrap around him, cuddling him close. Regulus slumps into him, any energy and shape draining from him in an instant.

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asks, one of his hands slowly running through the hair at the base of his head.

Regulus closes his eyes. "Has he told you everything?"

"He told me that you spoke at the cafe. That, to put it simply, you told him everything he'd been convinced about for the last eight years wrong and then proceeded to walk out on him. Kudos to you for that one, by the way," James teases with a wink. "Then, as you know, he asked for your address. He said when he turned up, you told him go away, and he wouldn't. He told me about how he asked you to punch him, and he didn't expect you to, but you did. He was still pretty shook up on how solid your right hook is, and he still is now, actually. The bruise was pretty nasty for most of the week. Again, pretty impressive, although, can't say I fully condone the violence."

Regulus opens his eyes just to roll them. "He asked for it and he deserved it."

"I won't argue with that," James muses, and Regulus can feel the smile on his face against his head. He continues with a somber sigh, "He was pretty hysterical when he got back to the flat in the morning. He couldn't quite believe how wrong he was, how blind he thinks he's been. He was fucking crushed when he admitted your parents didn't change when he left, that everything from you was an act, and even then they were still horrible to you."

Regulus sighs so deep, long and hard he practically deflates like a slow punctured balloon.

"The more I think about it, the more angry I get," Regulus admits quietly. When James doesn’t add anything, the rest of the confession tumbles out and he can’t stop it. "I’m so angry he ever believed I was like them, that he saw me as one of them, that he hated me too. We... we were brothers. He was everything to me, and he just left. He replaced me, then he left me alone with them and... all this time he's hated me for it. He's believed I was someone I wasn't, hated me for something I never agreed with. All the time I was pretending, I thought he might see through it. I thought he'd understand, that he'd know I couldn't be like him and fight them, that I had to try and fit in until I got away from it. If he'd just asked me... if he'd stopped and asked me that night if wanted to leave with him, I would have said yes. I wouldn't have hesitated. I would have gone with him."

Regulus is glad James can’t see his face from where he’s practically curled into the older mans chest, because by the time he’s finished talking, his eyes are stinging with unshed tears. He doesn’t know why he’s felt the need to cry about it now. He spoke with his friends two days ago and was absolutely fine, but now he’s with James, it’s as if all of his walls and shields have crumbled. He feels stripped raw, open. There’s a sense of freedom with James, like he feels he can react in anyway and James would just let him.

He doesn’t understand why, because the person they’re talking about is James’ friend. His best friend, his surrogate brother. Yet, here Regulus is, feeling like he’s been granted the wish to cry about how much he hates and hurts the very person James has been living with, loving, making memories with, since he was 16.

"Oh, Reg," James whispers, and his voice sounds wet and thick.

"The worst thing is, I kind of understand him," Regulus says, but his voice is wobbling to the point that it’s suddenly hard to speak. The arms around him tighten, grounding him. "He made new friends, he got to build the life he wanted with people who excepted him and without our parents trying to change him. He got caught up in it, and I don’t blame him for that. He was only trying to live, trying to survive like I was. But he—" he cuts off when a sob clamps his throat shut. "After everything we went through in that house, even before he met you all, before we started to grow apart, he still left me behind. He walked away and forgot about me."

A firm kiss is pressed into his hair. For a moment, neither of them speak. Regulus just allows himself to be held, for the emotions drowning him to ease up. He just stays, in James’ arms, allowing the older boy to keep him safe, sturdy.

"You’re allowed to be angry, Reg," James says eventually. His voice sounds clearer now, determined, a new found strength and drive. "You’re allowed to be hurt, to hate him, to be so, so angry that it makes you scream or cry or both. No one is expecting you to let this go. No one is expecting you to be forgive what happened. It’s hurt you for a long time, and just because you’ve finally found out the reason why, as understandable as it is between the two of you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt anymore," James pauses, breathing quietly for a moment. "And, honestly, I don’t think he ever forgot about you. I think even when he left, the guilt of leaving you behind has haunted him every day. I think beneath all the hate he had, beneath all the stuff he thought he believed, there was a guilt he buried and camouflaged. I think it ate him up leaving you behind it. I think it ate him up for so long, and he felt like he could never admit it, so he shut it away to the point that even if he wanted to, he could never bring it up to us."

Regulus pulls away enough to look up. James’ eyes are slightly red, his face so sad yet so fierce.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he looked more broken last week than he did the day he moved into my house when we were 16," James admits tenderly. "He was a wreck when he ran away, and I think after a while he just shut it all away in a mental box. I think last week you blew it wide open, stripped it bare and laid all the truth out for him. I think deep down he’s always known that his parents were potentially hurting you too, but the guilt that he’d already walked away, the fact that he’d already left you behind, made him feel so fucking damaged that he couldn’t bring himself to ever admit it out loud."

Regulus closes his eyes tightly. He feels overwhelmed, filled to the brim with so many emotions that he can't feel anything else. He feels taut, stretched too thin. His head is spinning, his heart beating too fast.

He hopes Sirius has been wounded with guilt all these years. He hopes Sirius felt the same thing consume him that consumed Regulus for years when he had to live with the fact that his brother left him behind. He hopes it poisoned him, isolated him.

He hopes it hurt Sirius, because it hurt Regulus beyond compare. 

A soft kisses presses onto his cheek. Then the other, then his nose, then his forehead, then both his eyebrows, his eyelids. James pecks his every inch of his face with gentle, slow, dry kisses. A final one lands on his lips, and Regulus’ doesn’t hesitate to kiss back. He sinks into James, feeling the harsh tension ooze away. He feels the frown ease, the lines in his forehead smooth, the sharp line of his lips loosen as he opens up once more, shamelessly letting James have every inch of him, every side and corner and piece of him.

"You’re so brave," James whispers softly, lips brushing his. He pulls away suddenly, cupping Regulus’ face, and he opens his eyes. Their faces are close enough that even in the low light of his flat, Regulus can see the mix of green and brown in his iris’ behind his glasses. "I hope one day you understand how fucking proud I am of you. I’m proud you survived that house. I’m proud you made it out. I’m proud you came to London, that you got your degree and made a life for yourself, all on your own. I’m so proud of how strong you are, how brilliant you are despite the shit you grew up with."

"James…" Regulus exhales heavily.

"You don’t have to believe me," James smiles. "I don’t expect you too yet. But, one day, I want you to hear the words and I know I believe them, and then after, I want you to believe them too."

"Thank you," Regulus murmurs. "And… thank you for listening."

"Always," James promises. "I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You can push me as much as you want, but I’m in for the long run, Regulus Black."

He can’t help but smile at that. "Good."

"Highs and lows. Healing or healed. Angry or sad or happy or horny. I’m all in," James murmurs, kissing him fiercely.

This time it’s as hungry as the one at the front door. It sends electricity down Regulus’ spine, every nerve and molecule of his body springs to life. The hands on his face slip down to his neck, then when Regulus pushes into James, the older boy lowers them both down, moving Regulus onto his back and the warm, solid, heavy strip of James above him. Regulus gasps breathlessly when hands grip his waist, his back arching. James’ hands go beneath his top, one exploring his stomach and chest and the other gripping bruising on the jut his hip bone. Everywhere James touches makes him shiver, it feels hot and cold and sensitive. Regulus reaches up into his hair, gently tugging the messy brown strands, wrapping his legs around James to bring him closer and closer and closer—

The door of his flat suddenly slams open. James jumps back, and Regulus almost head-butts him in his haste to sit up. They’re both gasping, breathless, flushed and hot and needy and…

Evan stands in the doorway. The front door still splayed wide open behind him.

If he wasn’t still half pinned under James, Regulus would already have his hands around Evan’s neck. 

"Evan?!" Regulus shouts. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Hi," Evan pants, breathing harshly. "Sorry, I— I just— I n-need to talk to you. Please. I can’t— I need—"

Regulus sits up, James going easily and falling back on the sofa out of his way. The sight and sound of his stammering, out of breath, and frazzled friend has the anger instantly changing into confusion and concern.

"Evan," he interrupts. "Mate, what’s wrong?"

Evan’s chest heaves and stutters. Now he looks closer, Regulus sees he’s an absolute mess. His hair is sticking up haphazardly, his clothes look slept in and rumpled. His eyes are wide and darting around, skittish like a traumatised animal.

Regulus is now very worried.

"Evan, sit down," he says, already standing. When the older boy doesn’t move, Regulus adds, "I’ll get you some water. Just sit down for fuck sake, before you fall down."

Regulus watches Evan move on wobbly legs, practically stumbling to the sofa. James meets Regulus’ eyes above the blondes head, clearly silently asking do you know what’s going on?

Regulus shakes his head. He has absolutely no idea. Evan doesn’t look injured, so Regulus’ first guess isn’t a mugging. Is he on drugs? They haven’t touched cocaine since they were in university, and never did anything of the sort to result in this kind of reaction.

Is it his family? Has something happened to his mum? Or his dad?

Why would he come here?

Why would he burst through the door looking like a terrified cat who’s just had a close shave with a fucking lion?

Regulus gets the water, sitting on the end of the sofa so Evan is sandwiched between him and James.

Evan practically downs the glass in one. "Thanks," he murmurs as he puts the empty glass on the table. Then, he rests his face in his hands, hunched over.

"Evan, what’s going on?" Regulus asks. "You’re really starting to freak me—"

"I slept with Barty."

Regulus’ jaw drops to the floor. He see’s James’ eyes widen comically, and Regulus knows he must look the same.

"You…" Regulus starts, but he feels completely rendered speechless.

Evan slept with Barty.

Barty slept with Evan.

Evan and Barty.

Evan and Barty.

"WHAT?" Regulus shrieks.

"I know!" Evan moans into his hands. "I don’t know what happened! We were just out! We were having fun and we were drunk. Oh, we were so, so drunk, Reg, and then Pandora and Dorcas and Marlene left but we didn’t think we were done, so we went back to his and then— then we— oh my god."

"Hold on," Regulus says. "Start from the beginning. When did this happen?"

"Saturday night," Evan admits.

"Okay," Regulus replies, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "And do you… wait, since when are either of you… you know…"

"I’m not!" Evan yelps, then he lifts his head. "At least, I didn’t think I was. I like girls.I’ve always liked girls and slept with girls and kissed girls and— fuck!"

"You do know you can swing both ways, right?" James asks.

Evan’s head snaps towards him, and with the way James quickly leans back, Regulus can only imagine the icy look been shot towards him.

"I know that!" Evan growls. "I just didn’t think I was like that."

"Are you having a gay crisis?" Regulus asks.

Evan’s head snaps towards him, initially glaring at him with more heat than Regulus has ever seen, but then the expression crumples. "No. No, I’m not actually bothered about it."

"So," Regulus starts cautiously, "the problem is Barty?"

Evan nods.

"Why?"

"Because I want to do it again," Evan admits, so quiet and fragile and scared. "I want to do it again, with Barty."

"Is Barty gay?" James asks.

"No," Evan moans, shaking his head pitifully. "He’s as straight as a fucking broom."

"Did he say that?" Regulus asks. When Evan looks at him in confusion, he adds, "Did he say that on Sunday morning?"

"He acted like a cunt on Sunday morning," Evan snaps. "He wouldn’t talk about it, didn’t even fucking acknowledge it. And when I tried, because, you know, I was kind of freaking out that I’d discovered I like dick at 23 years old, he got all bitchy and told me to leave."

"He kicked you out?" Regulus asks, frowning.

Evan nods, looking like a kicked puppy. "He hasn’t spoken to me since. He’s ignored all my calls, only replied to my text when I asked if he was still alive. I don’t… I don’t know what to do, Reg. He fucking hates me now."

"He can’t hate you," Regulus snaps, affronted. "It takes two to tango. If he regrets it, that’s not your fucking fault."

"But what if he does regret it?" Evan asks, then he shakes his head. "Of course he does! Of course he fucking regrets it."

"He might not," Regulus sighs. "Maybe he’s just trying to figure this out like you are."

"This is Barty we’re talking about," Evan grumbles, looking angry despite the clear tears in his eyes. "The only thing he’s trying to figure out is how he’s never going to have to see my face again."

Regulus feels his stomach twist in sympathy for his friend. Regulus is surprised Evan isn’t having a melt down about the sudden potential change in his sexuality, but then again, Evan has always been the most easy going out of all of them. Evan probably only needed a little bit of Sunday to come to terms with it, to accept the new part of him, and then he would have moved on, had Barty not practically shut him out.

The fear, frustration and reaction isn’t because Evan has expanded his sexuality.

It’s because he thinks he’s being punished by Barty for it.

He’s scared he’s going to lose his friend.

He’s scared he’s going to lose the friend that opened him up to a new side of himself, who’s unlocked a door he didn’t realise was there, and the person he wants to explore it with.

He’s not scared for himself, he scared for Barty.

A memory flashes in Regulus’ mind. Pandora once jokingly asked Regulus to place bets on Evan and Barty sleeping together drunk. Regulus doesn’t remember it exactly, but wasn’t Pandora implying that Evan looked at Barty in a way that spoke more than a friend?

Regulus needs to check on Barty, but he’ll do it tomorrow. Right now, Evan is here, and Evan needs him too.

"We’ll fix this," Regulus says. "Whatever is going on with Barty, he’ll figure it out. You two will be fine. You’re not going to lose him, Evan."

"You don’t know that," Evan argues shakily.

"I’m going to make sure of it," Regulus promises, and he really means it.

Evan, Barty, Pandora. All three of them have stuck by Regulus unconditionally for five years. They showed him how to live without fear, they taught him how to love himself, and most importantly, they love him. They’ve stood by his side through all the hardships, all the drunken arguments and breakdowns. They’ve never walked away from him when he was hard to deal with. They’ve accepted his flaws, his past, and they’ve never threatened their future together.

They’re his family, and he’ll make damn sure they don’t fall apart.

He’s not losing anyone else. He’s not letting anymore bridges in his life get burned. He's not having the first support system he's ever had to crumble before his very eyes.

Especially not over a bloody shag.

"Sorry for barging over like this," Evan apologises sheepishly. "I was going to Pandora’s, but she got held up on shift and wasn’t going to be home for another hour. I just ended up walking around, but then I started thinking too much and I just… I just needed…"

"It’s okay," Regulus nods. "A bit of warning might have been nice, because if you’d turned up a few minutes later…"

Evan groans, but Regulus can’t help the smile that forms on his face at the smug look James flashes him.

"You know," Regulus adds. "If you ever want tips—"

"No!" Evan cries. "No. Fuck, Reg, no!"

Regulus chuckles, feeling sated at the sight of James barely containing his laughter on the opposite end of the sofa.

"Was it good?" James asks.

"James!" Regulus hisses, smacking James on the arm. "Actually, was it?"

"I’m not talking about that with the two of you."

"Why not?"

"It’s weird."

"It’s not," Regulus scoffs. "You’re part of the club, now. Who was on top?"

"Regulus, stop—"

"I can recommend some good lube for—"

"Stop it!" Evan yelps as he jumps up, face so red he striking resembles a tomato. "Stop, please!"

Regulus chuckles at his friends squirming, not hesitating to slide across the sofa in the space Evan was moments ago so he’s pressed up against James again. Wordlessly, James’ arm curls around his shoulders.

"I’m going to Pandora’s," Evan grumbles. "Thanks for the therapy session."

"You’re welcome," Regulus nods. "Make sure you knock next time you come over!"

Evan shudders on his way out. When the door closes behind him, Regulus slumps.

"What the fuck was that about?" James asks.

Regulus shakes his head, feeling sober and deflated again. "I have no idea."

"Do you think they’re going to be okay?"

Regulus shakes his head again. "Honestly, I don’t know."

Regulus doesn’t have a chance to meet Barty over the next few days. He’s swamped on the ward whenever he’s at work, and Barty apparently swapped his day shifts to nights, so Regulus doesn’t even have a chance to corner him on his break.

Barty replies to his texts, saying that he’s okay, that he just needs some space and time to figure it out. Regulus believes him, he just wishes Barty would talk some more, would not shut Evan out so brutally, because Evan spends the rest of the week looking crushed and melancholy. 

On Regulus’ last shift on five, he spends the entire day waiting for the clock to strike six-thirty. He counts down the hours, even from the moment he walks in at six in the morning, until it’s home time and he can go to James’.

He’s aware he’s turned into the exact person he was sure he never would. Since he was old enough to understand the dynamics of dating and relationships, Regulus swore he’d never do it. He’d never allow himself to ever get close enough to someone, to let anyone into his life and give them the power to ruin it. He grew up with the people who were supposed to love him hurt him and leave. He never believed in love, and he never believed anyone could love him.

Regulus has always kept a thick line between attraction and attachment. He’s been attracted to a lot of people, but he’s never allowed it to bleed into attachment. Attachment leads to dependancy, which leads to people leaving, and when people leave, the attachment they made leaves a huge, gaping, painful whole. Regulus swore after Sirius, he’d never allow anyone to leave him again.

Then James came along, and Regulus tried so hard. He kept that line. He kept himself indifferent to attachment, and he even tried to leave first. He walked away, and he discovered that the James shaped whole that was left was something he couldn’t live with. He became so quickly, so desperately, so devotedly attached to James he couldn’t imagine the place James took up to ever be filled by someone else. Regulus couldn’t heal the emptiness that James left behind when Regulus walked away.

Truthfully, he’s glad James allowed him back in. James could have turned him away. He could have told Regulus that he blew his chance, that their attachment wasn’t enough and the initial run burned the bridge between them.

But James didn’t. He took Regulus back with open arms, listened to his reasons, accepted his flaws and his imperfections, and promised to stay.

Even with Sirius, James still didn’t walk away.

Regulus never imagined he’d be the type of person to date, let alone be excited to date. Yet, here he is: counting down the minutes and hours until he can break out and go to James’ flat for dinner, cuddles, and sex.

Hopefully, lots of sex.

All week, Regulus has managed to finish every shift on time. He hasn’t had a single overrun, which he’s pretty sure is a first, even from when he was doing his studying.

Of course, the one day he has plans, the rhythm has to go to absolute shit.

They get the call at quarter past two in the afternoon: a man has collapsed on cardiology ward and the rapid CT scan performed has shown an intracranial haemorrhage.

Regulus looks at the scans with Slughorn, both of their eyes widening at the sight of the colossal haemorrhage that has caused a midline shift of five centimetres. It’s the worst Regulus has ever seen one someone still breathing, and by the look of Slughorn’s expression, its impressed the older man too.

"Call them to confirm we can perform the surgery," Slughorn says. "I’ll get a OR prepped. Tell them we’ll be ready in thirty minutes but to bring him up as soon as possible and we’ll keep him stable up here."

Regulus nods, picking up the phone.

"How do you feel about assisting me on this surgery?" The older man asks, and Regulus almost drops the phone in surprise.

He barely manages to stop his jaw dropping to the desk. "I would love to," he replies, impressed with the way he successful stops his voice from trembling with excitement.

"Wonderful," Slughorn grins. "Make the call, then once he’s here, I’ll page you what room we’re in. Who’s the anaesthetist on today?"

"Mary."

"Fabulous. I’ll page her too."

After Regulus makes the call, he glances at the time.

Shit.

It’s already two thirty. He’s meant to finish in four hours, but the surgery is unlikely to start much before three thirty by the time they get the patient in and prepped. There is no way he’s going to be out of here on time. This severity of a brain surgery will take them at least four hours, more likely five or six.

He’s guaranteed a late finish tonight.

He needs to tell James.

He goes into the locker room before he dials James’ number, praying the older guy picks up as Regulus doesn’t have long before their patient arrives.

After the sixth ring, James’ voice comes through.

"Good evening, sweetheart."

Regulus’ stomach flips at the loving, silky way he speaks, so unaware of what Regulus is about to admit.

"Hey," he says. "I, uh, I have some bad news."

"What’s happened?"

"I’m going to be finishing late."

James is quiet for a moment. It’s barely a few seconds, but that’s all it takes for Regulus’ heart to sound pounding.

Then, there’s a soft chuckle. "Okay."

"Okay?" Regulus echoes.

"Yeah, okay," James replies fondly. "It’s alright, love."

"But…"

"I’m no stranger to arrangements being delayed or absconded due to hospital finish times, Reg," James says softly. "Have you forgotten who my mother is? I grew up with this, it’s not problem at all. Your job is important, you’re looking after people and saving lives. I’m not mad, I promise."

"Oh," Regulus croaks, feeling strangely soft.

"What’s happened?" James asks. "How do you already know you’re finishing late?"

"I’m assisting on a surgery," Regulus admits. "Intracranial haemorrhage and midline shift. This… it’s huge, James. This guy… the centre of his brain has moved five centimetres to the left because of this bleed."

"Wow," James breathes. "He sounds fucked. But, amazing for you!"

"I know," Regulus replies. "I’m still sorry, though."

"Never be sorry for your job, Reg," James argues. "If they need you, then I will never deny them of that. I’ll leave ordering dinner till you get here. Unless you don’t want to come over after your finish, if you’re too tired, then just let me kn—"

"No!" Regulus almost shouts. "No, I— if you don’t mind it being late, I’d like… I want to still come over."

"Anytime, sweetheart," James soothes. "Now, go be a badass surgeon."

Regulus feels swollen with glee.

The surgery is insane. Regulus manages to maintain a professional pokerface the entire time, and it’s only afterwards, when the man miraculously makes it off the table alive, that Regulus allows himself to overwhelmed with the experience.

He just assisted on a brain surgery.

A major brain surgery.

He worked alongside Slughorn, held the tools and worked inside someones brain.

He bloody did it. Successfully too. A successful first major brain operation.

Slughorn looks so impressed, so proud when they’ve stripped off their aprons and gloves. He claps Regulus on the shoulder, face split with a grin, and tells Regulus he’s going to go far.

Mary squeals and jumps when they’ve stepped out of the surgery and the patient is gone to the recovery ward. She cups his face and kisses his cheeks, eyes sparkling and looking close to tears as she gushes at how brilliant he was.

It’s half past eight when they finish. Regulus grants himself 15 minutes with Mary and Slughorn celebrating in his first brain surgery assist before he excuses himself to the locker room. He barely contains the urge to run, dropping James to a text to say he’s finished and ask if he can still come over.

James replies before he’s finished getting changed.

James (20:46) always :) drive safe, and I’ll see you soon <3

Regulus gets to James’ flat block in record time. The adrenaline from the surgery is still pumping through him, eliminating any exhaustion from doing five shifts in a row, the last extending over 14 hours. He practically skips up the steps to the top floor, and his heart swoops at the sight of James standing at the door waiting for him.

"Hello, Mr Brain Surgeon," the older boy grins, stepping forward and yanking Regulus into his arms.

Regulus goes easily, body thrumming with energy as he practically throws himself at the taller man. He kisses him like he’s starving, still riding on the high of the surgery, the high of seeing James again. He barely resists climbing James like a tree, wrapping every inch around him so they become one.

"Thank you for being so understanding," Regulus says when he pulls back to breathe. "I’m sorry I’m late."

"You’re a fucking superstar, Regulus Black," James says. He sounds so proud, so sure.

"It was amazing," Regulus smiles. "That mans catastrophic brain bleed is the most amazing thing that has happened to me since I started working there."

"I’ll send him a thank you card," James muses. He kisses him twice on the lips, then pulls back and brushes the hair off his forehead, looking at him so fond and so loving that Regulus barely manages to stay standing. "Come on, you need a shower, some food, and a bloody sit down after today."

Regulus doesn’t argue. Now he’s here, the adrenaline is beginning to dwindle, and he’s becoming more and more aware of the need for a shower and somewhere soft to land.

Inside the flat is warm, making Regulus feel suddenly more sleepy and dopey than he intended. He knows Sirius is out tonight, so he doesn’t allow himself to even begin to worry about his brother suddenly popping up and ruining things.

"I got pizza for dinner, is that okay?" James asks as he hangs up Regulus’ coat for him.

Regulus nods. "Of course."

"I’ll put them in while you’re showering," he offers, squeezing his waist gently. "I’ll grab you something comfy to wear too."

"Thank you," Regulus murmurs, pressing a soft kiss and trying to stop the ridiculous blush warming his cheeks.

The shower is blissful. The aches and pains in his joints and muscles from standing solid at the operating table for five hours at the end of the shift is eased with the warm water cascading down him. He refuses to use the shampoo and conditioner he now knows is Sirius’, instead using James’ stuff instead. He refuses to dwell on the fact he’s used Sirius’ stuff before back when he didn’t know who the other member of the flat was.

When he gets out, dressed in James’ sweats and jumper that are a few sizes too big but honestly, smell like James enough that it makes Regulus feel like he’s surrounded by the man.

The smell of pizza wafts through the flat, and his stomach is growling angrily as he steps out of the bedroom.

He stops short at what he finds.

He was expecting James on the sofa, pizzas on the table, maybe a glass of wine or something ready and the TV on. He was expecting to slouch down, alternate between eating and cuddling while something played until they eventually moved to the bedroom.

The sight before him is not that. James is not on the sofa.

Instead, he’s standing beside a construction of blankets and sheets.

"What is this?" He asks, pointing to the large tent looking thing in the middle of the living room.

James is grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"This, my precious, wonderful, enigma of an angel, is a blanket fort."

Regulus blinks.

"A blanket fort?"

"Yes," James nods, clearly pleased with himself.

"A blanket fort," Regulus echoes.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Why…" Regulus takes a deep, confused breath. "Why have you built a blanket fort?"

"Because you deserve a blanket fort," James replies simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"I..." Regulus doesn’t know what to say.

He’s never seen anything like this before. He’s half convinced for a moment, that the fatigue from the day has caught up with him and suddenly he’s turned delirious. Did he hit his head in the shower? Is this a fever dream?

James is still grinning as he’s getting down and climbing through the makeshift flaps of the 'blanket fort'. He disappears, and then seconds later, his head pops out again. He’s grinning up at Regulus like the Cheshire Cat.

"See!" He beams. "Isn’t it wonderful?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"Reg, baby?" James asks.

"Yes?"

"Just get in the fucking blanket fort."

— tbc.