homosexual words of wisdom
21
Sirius (17:03) hey reg, it’s sirius. i don’t know if you saved my number so. just wanted to say thank you for coming over this weekend for dinner. it was really nice and it was good to see you
Sirius (17:03) i just read that back and realised i sound like a fucking old man
Sirius (17:04) prongs has spent all afternoon chewing my ass out since you left about how much of a shit brother i’m being
Sirius (17:05) apparently despite what happened between us when we were both living at grimmauld because it was ME who left it should be me who makes the first move
Sirius (17:05) i kind of hate that he made a very good point about that and i miss you reg. so fucking much and now you’re so close again after all these years but fuck i’ve never felt more far
Sirius (17:10) saturday was just really nice. and i’d like for us to find a way to be able to do it again
Sirius (17:17) you’re my brother reg, and i know it took you a lot of strength to not walk away from prongs when you found out who he was to me too, and i want to make that sacrifice worth it to you
Sirius (17:22) please?
Sirius (17:23) you don’t have to stop being angry. please just let me try
Sirius (17:55) i will grovel in the most annoying, persistent, dramatic way possible that will make you hate your life
Regulus (18:30) grovel away.
Sirius (18:33) really??? after all of that, your only response is to ask me to grovel? BLUNTLY?
Sirius (18:33) are you joking?
Regulus (18:41) what about me gives the impression i’d be joking? you want the rebuild the bridge you so kindly burned when you were 16, then start rebuilding bitch.
Sirius (18:45) fucking hell you’re an absolute diva
Regulus (18:46) and you’re the human equivalent of a participation trophy
Sirius (18:46) WTF?!!
Sirius (18:47) that’s actually so mean???
Sirius (18:47) i’m speechless??
Regulus (19:01) good. stop texting me then.
*
Sirius (09:28) so i’m not giving up. call me bob the builder because I’m rebuilding this fucking bridge even if it kills me
Regulus (09:29) don’t give me false hope
Sirius (09:33) going to ignore the unnecessary insult because i am being a bigger, better person and i will be fucking damned if i let your mean ass ruin my path to becoming the brother you deserve
Sirius (09:36) so, how are you?
Sirius (09:52) i’m well, thank you for asking :) i’ve had a lovely morning so far, got a coffee on the way to work and it was sunny for the first time in weeks so i didn’t turn up to work drenched and cold
Sirius (10:08) the guy i was tattooing this morning was a massive motorcycle fan and i showed him photos of mine. the dude was fucking drooling in the chair at the sight of my precious baby
Sirius (10:11) just wanted to let you to prove that she was an amazing investment and you’re weird for not liking or appreciating her
*
Sirius (09:33) good morning. prongs made me go on a run this morning before work and now i have blisters on both of my feet
Sirius (09:34) thought you’d appreciate reading that i’m in pain
Sirius (13:48) have you ever tried gingerbread syrup in your latte? prongs says you like caramel, so you defo need to try gingerbread cos it’s fucking GREAT
Sirius (13:49) moony got me into it a few years back and now i always pick it over caramel
Regulus (20:47) good for you
Sirius (20:55) HE LIVES!!
Regulus (21:04) i’m at work. apologies for not replying to your insolent text messages while i focus on caring for the unwell and keeping people alive.
Sirius (21:11) gloating about the job again i see
Regulus (23:01) reading you had blisters on your feet was the best part of my week so far
Sirius (23:46) jokes on you, remus bought me special blister plasters so they don’t hurt anymore :D
*
Regulus stares out his living room window with a sigh. The heavens above have opened up over London, and rain lashes against the window with a vengeance. His coffee mug is cradled in his hands, the ceramic so heated from the coffee that it’s almost scolding his palms. He’s only been awake an hour, and even the cold shower he took hasn’t done much to wake him up for his upcoming nightshift in a few hours. His head has a subtle thrumming ache pulsating through it with the gloomy promise for a vengeful headache through his shift tonight. His eyes feel heavy, his body slightly floaty from lack of proper sleep. He’s slept so badly between shifts this week, and he knows the exact reason why.
It was the phone call he got from Pandora Sunday night.
He’d only been home from James’ a few hours, was in the middle of completing a few house chores when the phone rang. It would have let it ring until voicemail if it had been anyone else, but it had been a few days since he spoke to Pandora, so he answered expecting them to have their usual Sunday catch up and gossip fest.
It was not.
Well, it was a catch up of sorts, but with the way Pandora was borderline hysterical about the events that transpired the night before at the Leaky, it was not their usual lighthearted chat.
Turns out, there had been another hospital night out, one of which Regulus had declined. With the choice being between getting drunk at the Leaky or spend hours upon hours in bed naked with James, the decision hadn’t been hard and he’d skipped the usual Saturday night on the town.
Everyone else had gone, but it turns out Regulus had missed the bust up of the year.
Of course, when he’s not there.
Regulus would have been gutted to have missed it, if it doesn’t sound like it had been absolutely catastrophic.
Through Pandora’s explanation, Barty and Evan had exploded at one another. Since their drunken night of sex back in February a month ago, apparently the two of them have been weird with one another. Pandora said the tension had been building, but on Saturday, the entire thing reared its ugly head and the two finally lashed out at each other.
"They’ve been acting weird with each other ever since that night, Reg," Pandora had said. "You haven’t seen it because you’ve been spending your every waking moment at work or sleeping, but it’s been horrible. They haven’t met up the two of them, and whenever we arrange to meet up together, one of them always bails last minute."
"Fucking hell," Regulus had groaned.
Guilt had gnawed at his stomach instantly. He has been M.I.A recently. It hasn’t all been Regulus’ doing, as he seems to have picked up shifts at the hospital that have put him on a direct opposite rota to his friends. This has happened before, only before James, Regulus made a bit more effort to meet the group around his working hours, even if it burnt him out completely.
He hadn’t realised how long it’s been since they’d last hung out until Pandora reminded him.
"Saturday was the first time they’ve properly hung out since that night back in February," Pandora had continued to explain, kindly not chastising him any further on his recent absence.
"What happened?"
"They started fighting. Like, really fighting, Reg," Pandora’s reply had sounded watery and tearful. "It was a screaming match, and me and Dorcas had to break them up in the end. I don’t know what was said at the beginning because they were outside, and we only realised what was happening because we heard them screaming."
Regulus had closed his eyes in despair. "Oh shit."
Barty and Evan don’t fight. Apart from one fight back in university, the pair have only ever bickered. Quite impressive, really, considering they’re both as stubborn, annoying, and fiery as one another.
"Yeah. Evan was calling Barty a coward by the time we got out to them. Then Barty was screaming and Evan was screaming back. I could barely make out what they were saying, they were just shouting over each other. I tried to take Barty home but he just walked off."
"Have you heard from Barty since?"
"Only a text to say he got home safe, which I guess was curtsy enough," Pandora had replied. Then, she sighed, sounding so melancholy it tugged painfully in Regulus’ gut. "Evan’s not good. He’s crushed, Reg. This whole thing with Barty is really hurting him."
"It’s almost been a month since they shagged," Regulus murmured in disbelief.
"I know. I don’t know what’s going on with Barty, but he’s going to lose Evan if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass."
"Do you think it’s because he regrets it?"
"Honestly? No. I don’t think he regrets it, but I think he’s scared shitless," Pandora had confessed.
"Why?"
"Because I think he’s finally realised he likes guys too, and that main guy is Evan. And now he doesn’t know what to do about it."
"Gay crisis?"
"Of the century."
"Brilliant," Regulus had groaned in frustration. "I’ve got to whip out the homosexual words of wisdom, haven’t I?"
Pandora’s sigh had been heavy through the phone. "I’d appreciate if you would."
"I’ll try my best."
Since that phone call, Regulus has felt severely distracted. Unable to do much apart from text Barty and Evan as Regulus has been on night shifts ever since the night after Pandora's phone call, Regulus is feeling impatient. Pandora phoned Sunday, and while it’s now only Wednesday, Regulus is feeling the unspoken pressure to get his two best friends sorted.
Typically, the one time Regulus is desperate to find the time around shifts to meet up with the two of them individually to grant them some of his 'homosexual words of wisdom', they’re on days at the same time that Regulus is on nights. Their shifts are running literally opposite, and there is only a small window each day that they’re all even awake at the same time, let alone available to text back quicker than an hour apart.
Evan, unsurprisingly, has been managing to make even their most mundane text exchanges sound sad and droopy. He’s acting every bit the wounded kitten that Pandora had described him as. Regulus actually prefers when Evan is angry to when he’s sad.
Angry-Evan is entertaining, impressive, and actually, quite attractive.
Sad-Evan honestly makes Regulus want to jump off a cliff with him.
Both are irrational and impulsive, but Angry-Evan is easier to ground and make sense with.
Barty’s text replies, also unsurprisingly, have been belated and cheery, acting as if everything is fine and the entire friendship group isn’t crumbling because two of them couldn’t keep their fucking dicks in their pants.
Truthfully, at this point, Regulus is wondering if it would be more effective if they got the two of them in the same room and banged their heads together. Or locked them in and let them fight until they either shagged again or killed one another.
Pandora is working on Evan, making sure their friend is comfortable and aware that what he is feeling is okay and nothing to be bloody ashamed of. That leaves Regulus to try and get through to Barty. Of course, when Regulus confronted Pandora about why he is the one who’s been given the hardest egg to crack compared to Evan, Pandora had given him a very convincing and ego-boosting speech about how Regulus is the best prepared to get through to their friend.
After Regulus’ head had shrunk from it’s praise, he realised that Pandora basically said he was the only one sharp and blunt enough to get through Barty’s impenetrable walls. Also known as, Regulus is just as much of a bastard to get Barty, who’s also an insufferable prick, to listen to him.
It is a compliment, but it’s also not.
Regulus isn’t really sure how to handle this, to be honest. Sure, he’s gay, but that doesn’t make him a bloody homosexual extraordinaire. He likes dick and men instead of vaginas and women, that’s it. He’s not sure what Pandora is expecting him to do in this supposed gay-crisis counselling session he’s been told to use to fix whatever is going on with his two best friends.
Regulus had a fairly boring realisation when it came to his sexual preferences. He was never granted the opportunity growing up to ever think about sex or girlfriends or boyfriends considering his whole focus was getting through the day without his parents killing him. Having no contact to the outside world beyond the walls of Grimmauld or the house in France meant that he never developed any crushes or attractions growing up. Sure, he’d heard Walburga and Orion muttering nasty comments about homosexuals and gay marriages, but it hadn’t occurred to him that any of it would apply to him until he moved to London and realised that he liked dick.
Regulus went from feeling nothing about romance and attraction, understanding nothing about relationships and sex, to moving to London and kissing a man when he was drunk once of a night out with Barty and Evan. They’d asked if he was gay a few drunks later and Regulus, who had been drunk and bold and suddenly daring, had just shrugged and said, "Yeah. I guess. Problem?"
Neither of them had a problem with it, and that was that. On the following nights out, pubs, clubs or drinking days, they played wingman and caught the attention of blokes for Regulus instead of women.
There wasn’t a journey or a struggle for Regulus, which he supposes is quite impressive considering everything else in life he had to fucking wade through. Still, a small miracle compared to the rest of the chaos, his discovery of the gender and people he likes in bed just happened naturally.
To Regulus, he likes to consider it as 'natural' as it would have been for a man and a woman kissing.
It just happened.
Simple, natural, accepted.
He’d felt a sense of fear when it came to people other than Barty, Evan and Pandora knowing, but Dorcas had squashed that fairly quickly when they met during their training together on neurology ward.
It’s been five years since Regulus realised he liked guys instead of girls, and he’s had a lot of time being spoilt with his friends instant and easy acceptance. He’s become so comfortable he’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be scared of something like a new craving inside you.
So, after two days of making absolutely no progress apart from solidifying the already presumed expectation that Evan is crushed and Barty is avoiding, tonight is the night that Regulus is going to finally attempt to get through to their self-destructive friend. Barty is on a night shift, unfortunately starting two hours after Regulus, so driving in together and trying to get his friend to open up isn’t going to happen. Therefore, Regulus is going to make it his top priority to meet up with Barty on their breaks and get their friend to talk about his fucking problems and feelings.
Regulus huffs into his mug as he stares at the rain drops rolling down his windows.
Fucking hell, he thinks. Having friends is bloody exhausting.
Regulus’ monologue about the grief of being a good person is broken when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and when he fishes it out, he rolls his eyes at the name on the screen.
He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, but alongside his friends’ drama, Sirius has seemingly taken it upon himself to annoy the hell out of Regulus the last few days. Apparently, a consequence of James ripping Sirius a new asshole in Regulus’ defence now means Regulus has to put up with Sirius’ stupid texts and insistent need for attention. Regulus wants to be flattered and smug about the idea of James standing up for him, for defending him against Sirius after their meal on Saturday, but Sirius’ idea of 'building bridges' so far is just spamming Regulus with life update texts until he gets a reply.
The mixed feelings Regulus has been getting from the strange effort from his estranged brother have been exhausting. Yet, Regulus refuses to give in. He’s not giving Sirius the satisfaction. If Sirius really wants another inch of forgiveness, the prick is going to have to work long and hard for it. As Regulus told him on Sunday evening, if Sirius wants to fix the mess he made by leaving Regulus behind in a home that didn’t know the notion of love or care or fucking parenting, then Sirius is going to have to fix it properly.
Regulus forgave enough to allow James to stay. He’s compromised sharing James enough for his own selfish need of keeping James in his life, he’s not prepared to sacrifice anymore.
Regulus is perfectly fine with having James in private and in bed, and quite frankly, never being in the same room as Sirius again. Regulus can easily make it work if needed, considering James wants to keep Regulus in his life just as much. If the deal was to never see or speak or interact with Sirius by sharing a little of James’ free time with him, then Regulus can do that. He was prepared to do that. Anything else, Regulus was not prepared for.
At least with this whole new scheme of rebuilding, it seems to be causing Sirius more pride and self-esteem bruising than Regulus.
Sirius (11:34) just realised i lost my chapstick on the way to work today and now i feel naked
Sirius (14:27) nvm my client bought me chocolate milk so the day is looking up
Sirius (17:04) day is not looking up anymore
Sirius (17:04) was just headbanging in the bathroom and i head butted the sink
Sirius (17:04) punk rock is dangerous
Regulus rolls his eyes again. He drains his coffee then types back.
Regulus (17:12) you’re the reason god created the middle finger.
Sirius (17:13) fuck you reg!! i’m concussed???
On the plus side, with Sirius texting all the time to 'build bridges', it means that Regulus can insult him with free will.
Deciding he’s had enough of Sirius already today, Regulus drains his coffee and begins a very slow routine of getting ready for work. He throws some left over pasta dinner from the night before into the microwave and puts a bowl of food down for Sylvester. He eats his pasta on the sofa while reading a chapter of a book Remus gave and recommended to him over the weekend. After, he gets dressed and begins his commute to the hospital.
Despite her not being on the same shift as him, he’s relieved to see Effie is the one giving him the handover when his shift starts. The day sounded like it went smooth, and Regulus always knows it’s going to be marginally easier night shift when either Dorcas or Effie have been on the day shift as they always make sure to leave the ward in order when they go home.
"Is someone staying with 401?" Regulus asks, eyes flicking over the handover sheet.
They’ve got a Mexican patient who’s suffered a stroke, but unfortunately doesn’t speak a word of English. Normally manageable during the day with translators able to bounce between departments, but like everything else within the hospital and health care, the nightshifts are left barer than a stripped skeleton. Pigs would fly before they employ translators overnight.
Ironically, the only person on the neuro ward who can speak Spanish is Effie, but she’s going home and leaving Regulus with nothing.
Effie nods. "His daughter is with him. She speaks limited English, but enough. She’s actually quite good at French, so it might be easier to explain anything needed to her like that than trying to do so in English."
Regulus nods. French he can do.
"Slughorn said you handed in some coursework on Monday?" Effie asks.
Regulus nods again tiredly. "Another module done. He’s on shift tonight, right?"
"He is," she smiles. "While I don’t wish poor health on anyone, I hope to come in tomorrow to find something happened to an unfortunate soul overnight that meant you got to assist on a surgery."
Regulus smirks, "One can only hope."
"Well, good night, darling," she says as she stands, back audible cracking as she does. "I hope you have a good shift, and be nice to the HCA with the red hair, she’s new and very shy."
"Oh, good," Regulus drawls, rolling his eyes. 'New and shy' is a nice way of saying shit and incompetent. "Can’t wait."
"Be nice," she repeats, but she’s smiling down at him. "Patience is a virtue, Doctor Black."
"Patience is a myth between the second and twelfth hour of a night shift."
She tuts softly, shaking her head. "You’re three staff down tonight, try not to make it four by having one run out crying?"
"I’ll try my best."
"I’m sure you will," she nods.
Regulus (01:28) fancy taking a break?
Barty (01:28) was about to ask you the same thing
Regulus must admit he is surprised, but also relieved. Barty thinking the same thing means he most likely has no idea of Regulus’ awareness of the situation with Evan and therefore, his ulterior motive. This is good, as Barty isn’t going to avoid Regulus, but also bad, because that means he’s not going to be expecting it, which could result in a less than ideal reaction.
Barty (01:29) food or smoke?
Regulus (01:29) i’ve got both, who’s mess room we choosing?
Barty (01:29) yours. i’ve got a nurse napping in mine
Regulus (01:30) how generous of you
Barty (01:30) i know i’ve surprised myself too. be down in 5
Regulus (01:30) meet you there
After pocketing his phone, Regulus finishes the observation notes he was writing before he began texting Barty. He lets the nurse know he’s going on break, who nods happily and steals his swivel chair almost as soon as he’s stood up. He’d huff and begrudge the girl, but considering their shift has been bleakly quiet so far, he appreciates she’s probably been dying to sit down for hours instead of wandering around the ward aimlessly while the patients sleep.
In the mess room, he grabs his zip-up fleece from his locker, having been meaning to grab it almost an hour ago due to the night chill but have had his eyes glued to the computer to distract him.
He's barely flicked the kettle on to make a cup of instant coffee before the door is swinging open.
"Reggie-kins!" Barty cries as literally swoops in with all the grace and suave of a disco dancer.
"Not my name," Regulus mutters, rolling his eyes and turning back to the kettle. "Coffee?"
"Yes please, my handsome star," Barty replies, to which Regulus rolls his eyes again.
He grabs another mug from the cupboard and automatically makes two cups, Barty's with a horrendous amount of sugar in his.
When he turns back around, he see's Barty has shamelessly made himself at home. Well, as comfy as one can make themselves at home in a room with a singular round dining table with four absolutely rubbish and uncomfortable plastic hairs, and a handful of benches in between the rows of lockers. As always, Barty has forgone the horrible table and chairs and instead planted himself on the floor, propped up against the first wall of lockers and his long legs stretched out in front of him.
When Regulus sits down against the wall and folds his legs, he hands Barty his coffee.
"Really?" Barty asks, raising an eyebrow at the mug still in Regulus’ hand.
"What?" Regulus asks, looking at the gimmick white mug with plain black writing reading 'WORLDS BEST DOCTOR!'. He looks back at Barty and shrugs, "It’s Euphemia’s."
"Of course," Barty mocks.
"It is!" Regulus growls. "I hardly need a gift shop mug to gratify my already above average abilities."
"Yet, you’ve used it tonight?"
"It was either this or a hideous Star Wars one with a chip in it."
"How offending," Barty muses, taking a sip and watching as Regulus grabs the sandwich that he bought from the cafe before it closed. "Aw, Reg" his friend grins, "are you going to share your sandwich with me?"
"Am I fuck?"
"Please!" Barty whines, thumping his head loudly against the lockers behind him. "I’m hungry!"
Regulus raises an eyebrow. "Where is your food?"
"In my fridge. I woke up late and forgot to grab it."
"Surprising," Regulus rolls his eyes, then hands half of the sandwich over. "Have at it, you insolent prick."
"You’re so kind."
Regulus hums.
"How’s the graveyard shift up here?"
Regulus grunts aggressively. "As pleasant as possible. All the patients are asleep, no one is actively dying, Euphemia left me hardly any paperwork to do because she’s an angel. Only down side is the new HCA."
"Oh no," Barty replies. "Useless?"
"She can do hourly obs without being asked to, so I guess there’s that," Regulus grumbles. "So, she can do the bare minimum so far."
"Better than Snape."
He easily listens to Barty rant about Snape, who’s on shift with him tonight and bringing Barty complete suffering just by breathing.
"So," Regulus says later, voice sickening casual. "Been up to anything exciting? Apart from terrorising nurses and making offending finger movements behind Snape’s back all shift."
Barty pauses mid-sip, eyes flicking up to Regulus’ face sharply. "You spoke to Pandora."
Well, shit.
Regulus mentally shakes himself. No going back now.
"Yep," Regulus nods firmly. "She seemed pretty upset, too."
Barty scoffs, shaking his head and his jaw clenching momentarily.
Regulus can see his friend is angry. His eyebrows are pinched and his whole posture has stiffened as if his father has just abruptly walked into the room. His hands around his almost finished mug of coffee are tight and clenching.
Voice coming out soft, Regulus asks, "What the fuck happened?"
Barty just shakes his head. "It’s complicated."
"That’s never fazed us. We’re a group of four built on shitty complications," Regulus shrugs, and counts it as a win when Barty flashes him a small quirk of his lips. "Go on. See if you can raise the bar a bit."
Barty sighs loudly, shoulders loosening so suddenly he slouches.
"I think I fucked up," he admits.
"How bad?"
"Me and Evan shagged last month," Barty says on a heavy exhale. Regulus schools his expression, making sure to show no reaction. Clearly, Barty isn’t aware that Regulus knows, but at the same time, he’s pretty sure a face of shock and surprise isn’t going to help Barty explain what the fuck is going on in his head right now. "It… it just happened, and I didn’t really know what to do about it so I’ve just carried on as normal."
"Okay," Regulus nods. I kind of figured that, he thinks. "But?"
"But Evan doesn’t want to carry on as normal," Barty murmurs.
"He’s within his right too, Barty," Regulus probes gently.
"I know that!" Barty snaps sharply "Do you think I feel so little that I’m not fucking freaking out about shagging my best friend?"
"I never said that," Regulus placates. "But why are you freaking out?"
"Because I— I-I—" Barty cuts himself off with a animalistic growl, roughly running his hand through his hair. "Because Evan’s not gay! And I don’t want to be!"
"You…" Regulus clears his throat and winces slightly, "I hate to say it, Barty, but what you guys did was pretty fucking gay."
"Fuck you, Reg," Barty snarls, but it holds no heat behind it.
He wants to talk. He wants to get this off his chest. He’s just been waiting for someone to listen.
Regulus is happy to be that person right now.
"Is it the fact that you did it with Evan that’s bothering you? Or the fact you did it with a guy?" Regulus asks, and when he sees a flash of pain in Barty’s expression, see’s how his shoulders roll forward as if to protect himself, Regulus thinks he finally understands. "Or, is it the fact that you enjoyed it."
Regulus knows Barty isn’t homophobic. Regulus isn’t worried this is anything to do with Barty not accepting homosexuality in other people. More than half of their friends and colleagues are part of it, and Barty has never batted an eyelid at the notion.
Regulus thinks he knows what the problem is now.
Barty isn’t bothered by other people being gay.
He just doesn’t want to accept that he is.
"Did… did you enjoy it?"
Barty sighs, closing his eyes.
"It’s sex," he shrugs. "Of course I enjoyed it."
"Right."
"I’m not homophobic," Barty snaps, eyes opening and glaring at Regulus.
"I know," Regulus nods. "I’m just trying to figure out why this has scared you so much. You’ve never been anything but supportive of all of us, why is it different for you?"
For Evan?
"Because… because it was only supposed to be drunk sex," Barty confesses, voice so uncertain. "I didn’t expect it to be anything else. I… Evan is my friend. My best friend. We’ve been friends for years, and now…"
"It’s not ruined," Regulus argues gently.
"I think it is," Barty grimaces, looking physically pained. "He hates me."
"He hates you right now because you’re trying to forget about it," Regulus explains. "Because you’ve been avoiding him, making him feel like what happened between you is something to be ashamed of."
"He should never be ashamed," Barty snaps, but Regulus knows the anger is now aimed at him right now. Its aimed at the world that could hurt Evan.
"Then why won’t you talk to him about it?" Regulus asks.
"Because I can’t," Barty croaks. "I don’t know how."
"There’s nothing wrong with being gay, Barty. I know you’ve accepted the rest of us, but you can accept it in yourself too."
Barty closes his eyes, face twisted in a grimace. Regulus knows none of this is meant to offend him, and he’s not, but he feels a pinch in his gut knowing that his friend is struggling with something that they’ve all worked together to make the rest of them feel accepted with.
"I’m going to make us another coffee," Regulus says, getting up and taking the mugs.
He’s halfway through making them when Barty speaks again.
"I think I’ve been gay for a while."
Regulus almost drops the milk in surprise. He looks over his shoulder, "Oh?"
"Yeah," Barty mutters, eyes on the floor in front of him.
Tread delicately, Regulus. He tells himself. Tread very fucking carefully right now.
"Since… uh, when?"
"University."
"What?!" Regulus shrieks, spinning around to face him. "That was years ago?"
"I know," Barty grumbles. "This is the problem! I’ve been doing everything I can to fucking ignore it because it was just one guy and I was sure if I shagged enough girls then the fucking feelings would stop!"
"You tried to repress your homosexuality by becoming a slut?"
"Yes!" Barty growls. "And it fucking worked!"
"Until Evan?"
Barty clenches his jaw. "Yes," he mutters. "Until Evan."
Regulus sits back down and hands Barty his fresh drink. Regulus lets all of this new information sink in.
Suddenly, curiosity sparks inside Regulus.
"Who?" He asks.
Barty looks up confused. "What?"
"Who was it in university?" Regulus asks.
"Doesn’t matter," Barty mutters.
Regulus raises an eyebrow. "Don’t get shy now, Crouch."
"You’re an insufferable prick, you know that?"
"Yes, and you’re a repressive man-whore."
Barty rolls his eyes. Then, he closes them and takes a deep breath, as if preparing for a punch.
"It was you."
Regulus is pretty sure his brain short-circuits. He almost drops his coffee.
"M—Wait what?" He stutters. "What?!"
"I had a mad fucking crush on you when I first met you," Barty continues. "I did for a while."
"I…" Regulus shakes his head. "I had no idea."
"Of course you didn’t," Barty laughs, shrugging. "I wasn’t expecting anything to happen. We instantly felt like brothers, and I loved you like one, but there was a pretty big part of me that always wanted to kiss you."
"Oh," Regulus says lamely. "Thanks."
Barty huffs a tired laugh. "You’re welcome."
He looks weary and strung now, as if all the fight has drained from him and he’s left aching and exhausted.
"So…" Regulus starts gently, "This thing with Evan—"
"There hasn’t been a guy I liked since you," Barty admits. "And it scares the fucking shit out of me that it’s Evan."
"Why?"
"Because I don’t know how to be his boyfriend," Barty whispers, as if the confession is so sharp and he doesn’t want to break anything with it. "I only know how to be his friend, and I’m scared that if we talk about it, he’ll be upset that I’m scared and hate me for it."
"Barty, not talking about it is making him upset," Regulus counters. "Do you even know what he wants?"
Barty shakes his head. "He called me a coward. On Saturday. That’s what the fight was about. He called me a coward and a piece of shit."
Regulus winces. "Ouch."
"It’s true."
"Harsh, but…"
"Yeah, true."
"I think you just need time," Regulus assures, because clearly Barty does need more time to get his head around something he’s been ignoring and suppressing since he was 19. "You need time to accept it within yourself, and as much as it hurts Evan right now, he will accept it. He’s your friend before anything else, he’ll want you to be okay too. You just need to fucking talk to him."
"Yeah," Barty closes his eyes. "I know. I’ll… I promise I’ll talk to him."
"Good," Regulus nods. "Look, I need you to get over this pretty fast, because I can’t wait to tell everyone I was your gay awakening."
"Fuck off!" Barty barks, but he’s also laughing and grinning from ear to ear.
"This might be my best achievement yet."
"Seriously. Go fuck yourself."
"Do you still want to?"
"No!"
"Why?" Regulus asks, feigning offence. "What changed?"
"I got to know you," Barty hisses, "and I realised you’re a massive prick."
"I am, or I have?"
"Give me a smoke," Barty demands as he stands up. "I want to go out by myself."
"No," Regulus grins. "Lets go together. We’re officially gay best friends."
"I like girls too," Barty argues, looking down at him.
"Good for you," Regulus shrugs easily. "Right now, though? We’re gay best friends. You owe me."
"For what?"
"For having to listen to all three of you bitch to me about yours and Evan’s gay fucking crisis."
"You’re a real cunt, you know that?"
Regulus shrugs. He’s not going to deny the facts. He holds his cigarettes out, to which Barty nods quickly at.
Later, after their break outside that ended with Regulus finally cracking and giving Barty a hug to try and make his friend feel marginally better for the slight bashing he’s received for being an oblivious idiot, Regulus is back on the ward. He texts Panodra, despite her being asleep, to let her know he spoke to Barty and hopefully things will start to ease now. As long as Barty sticks to his promise and speaks to Evan, things will surely improve.
All is going swimmingly until a 20 year old comes into A&E downstairs from a motorcycle accident at three in the morning. Regulus is paged down to assist in the assessments due to the c-spine and brain injury concerns. After, when the MRI scans and X-rays are done, Slughorn and him are wheeling the guy into theatre for an emergency surgery to stop his blood from filling his skull and squashing his brain like a grape.
He hands over late to Euphemia, who’s taking over the dayshift and grins at the fact that her wishes for something exciting with Slughorn came true.
"You’re going to be a surgeon in no time," she smiles. "Do slow down the impressive speed you’re going though, Regulus. I may have to consider my retirement age when you leave us on the ward."
"You’ll still have Cas," Regulus counters.
"Yes, but it’ll hardly be the same without you."
Despite feeling absolutely swollen with sudden pride and gratitude, Regulus can’t help but argue, "I’m sure you’ll survive."
"Don’t be so modest, Doctor Back," she chides. "Plus, if you aren’t on the ward every day, then I’m going to see my son even less. Considering the only time I see him anymore is when he’s bringing you coffee and lunch."
"Uh… I—" Regulus stammers and blushes, cheeks burning.
"Don’t worry, darling," she eases, smiling, and pats his arm. "It’s incredibly sweet. I’d be jealous if Monty didn’t do the exact same to me when we were young."
"Really?"
She nods. "He is his fathers son, my boy. A kind soul, and a good man."
"He is," Regulus admits softly.
"You make him very happy," she confesses, and Regulus doesn’t know what to say.
They never talk about James. It’s something Euphemia has always allowed, a sense of escape and anonymity within the ward. She’s never spoken about James, or Sirius, or the drama between the three of them. She’s been supportive and kind, of course, and Regulus never doubts she’d be anything else.
"Go home, darling," she continues. "Get some sleep."
"Right," Regulus croaks. "Have a good shift."
"Always," she winks.
Regulus is in the middle of getting changed in the locker room when his phone buzzes.
Barty (08:31) you finished late?
Regulus (08:31) as always. want a lift home?
Regulus puts his phone down as he shrugs out of his scrub trousers and grabs his jeans. He’s just emptying his scrub top pockets when another text comes through.
Barty (08:34) will you give me a lift to Evan’s?
Regulus can’t help but grin with victory.
Regulus (08:35) of course. just getting changed then i’ll meet you at the car
Barty (08:35) thanks reg
Regulus gets changed as fast as he can. He knows it’s taking a lot for Barty to be doing this, and he doesn’t want to give him any time to reconsider. Despite the details, despite the inner struggles Barty is going through, the two of them need to talk. Barty needs to confess as much as he can to Evan, to explain the inner workings of his actions. He needs to reassure Evan nothing is wrong, there is nothing to be ashamed of, and if anything, Barty wants it so bad it’s caused him to shut Evan out instead of let him in.
Regulus is practically running to the elevator when his phone buzzes again. Heart dropped with the trepidation that Barty has changed his mind, he scrambles for his phone.
He groans out loud when he sees it’s not Barty, but instead Sirius.
Again.
Sirius (08:41) you any good at tennis?
Regulus (08:52) i’m good at everything.
Sirius (08:53) arrogant prick
Regulus rolls his eyes.
Sirius (08:53) want to come and play a few games with us this weekend?
Sirius (08:53) i’ll warn you though, me and prongs are slightly competitive
Regulus (08:54) i’d rather be pecked to death by a flock of angry hummingbirds.
Sirius (08:54) wonderful! I’ll tell prongs you said yes :)
Regulus rolls his eyes again but pockets his phone without replying. He’s not going, no matter what Sirius tells James. Tennis? Is he fucking joking? Why would Regulus, in any sense of clarity, ever want to go to play tennis with his estranged brother? Regulus wouldn’t even want to do with James, let alone with the group of them and their stupid nicknames for one another.
There is absolutely no way that Regulus is going to tennis with his stupid brother.
*
Regulus has no idea what to wear to play tennis.
He has approximately four minutes before James gets here to pick him up and Regulus is freaking out because he has no active wear apart from a pair of shorts he got when he was 19 and Barty demanded Regulus joined the gym with him. Regulus went twice, hated every moment, and then refused to go again. He couldn’t even be sad about the wasted money on the membership.
Regulus’ wardrobe is sophisticated. He has peacoat’s, knitted jumpers, shirts, and slim fitted trousers that make his ass look great and legs a mile long. The only shoes he has are boots or Oxford shoes, because he has style. He is not active. He doesn’t have time to be bloody active. He works, sleeps, eats and drinks. His exercise is whatever he does in bed with James, and that doesn’t require clothes. Therefore, Regulus has nothing to wear.
The shorts, by some miracle, still fit. He’s going to be cold, but he absolutely refuses to wear sweatpants out like some common slop. He may not be the same posh swot he used to be when he lived with his parents, but he still has some dignity and wearing sleep-wear out of the house is not acceptable.
Regulus doesn’t do things like tennis anymore. Sure, Barty and Evan are pretty sport orientated. During their times at university, they indulged in some weekends playing badminton, tennis, or even on a few occasions, football (though that always ended with only Evan and Barty playing and Pandora and Regulus watching). Ever since they qualified, their times together as friends have consisted of drinking, eating, and socialising. Regulus doesn’t like to make them sound like alcoholics, but when there is only ever a few days a month when they all have a night and a day off together, they like to indulge in a night at the Leaky where they can let their hair down and dance.
Therefore, not only is this nerve wracking due to it being something Regulus has never done without his three friends, but he’s also having to do it with his boyfriend, estranged brother, estranged brother’s boyfriend and a feisty Scottish man that Regulus has only had the joy of meeting twice, and even then, Regulus hasn’t spoken to him.
So yeah. Regulus is freaking out.
Not helped by his lack of appropriate wardrobe!
Regulus has only just got on one of his cotton long-sleeve tops he wears underneath his scrubs on when he hears the front door open.
"Reg?" James calls out.
"Coming," Regulus replies, quickly exiting the bedroom.
James is standing by the sofa, phone and car keys balanced in one hand. He’s dressed in a black hoodie and a pair of grey shorts that look like cut-off joggers, a set of red runner shoes and white socks pulled up. His hair is it’s usual mess that makes Regulus twitch to run his fingers through it and tug on the locks.
"You ready?" He asks, then his eyes track up and down Regulus. Finally, they meet Regulus’ own eyes and he smirks, "You look good in shorts."
Regulus doesn’t. His legs look like two pale toothpicks pocking out of a pair of shorts and disappearing into a pair of white socks. He resembles more a chicken than he does human at this rate.
Still, Regulus blushes because the hungry glint in James’ eyes makes his stomach flip.
"I have nothing to wear," he says.
James frowns. "What about what your wearing?"
"It’s March. I’m going to freeze."
"A hoodie?" James suggests. "You have hoodies, don’t you?"
"They’re my sleep-hoodies, James."
"They’re still hoodies, Reg," James smiles sweetly. "You’ll look fine."
"I also have no shoes."
"What size are you?" James asks, looking down at his phone as it buzzes in his hand, and when a long beat of silence greets him, he looks up and asks, "Reg?"
Regulus huffs heavily.
"S-n," he mutters, unintelligible.
James frowns. "What was that?"
"S-vn," Regulus repeats, feeling his cheeks get warmer and warmer.
"Huh?"
"A seven!" Regulus snaps. He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes sharp. "I’m a size fucking seven, okay!"
James’ face is stricken with surprise at the outburst, mouth open slightly and eyes wide. Then, the bastard, he starts to smirk and Regulus can feel the annoyance bubbling inside of him like a toxic concoction.
"Do not laugh!" He shouts.
"I’m not laughing!" James argues, but he’s fighting the shit-eating grin on his face, eyes light and shoulders twitching.
"You are!" Regulus hisses. "They are perfectly proportional to the rest of my body!"
"They are," James grins, nodding. "You’re perfect. All small and proportional."
"I’m not small."
James tilts his head as if he’s talking to a delusional child. "Reg, you’re like five foot five."
"Five foot seven!"
"Really?"James blinks, having the audacity to look surprised. "I thought you were shorter."
"Shut up," Regulus snaps. "You’re only like three inches taller than me!"
"Five," James grins, and Regulus doesn’t know if he wants to slap it off his face or kiss it. "Look, I’ll text Peter, see if one of his brothers have—"
"No!" Regulus shriek, shaking his head. "I am not wearing someone else’s shoes!"
"Reg, you can’t play tennis in Oxford shoes."
"Then I won’t go."
James rolls his eyes. "What do you wear at work?"
"My work shoes are at the hospital."
"We can grab them on the way," James shrugs. "Didn’t you say you used to do running in uni?"
"They were thrown out when I stopped running," Regulus replies.
"We can stop by a store on the way, and then we can buy you some shoes," James says, stepping forward and arms circling around Regulus’ waist.
The touch and closeness has all of Regulus’ frustration draining out of him, which is actually quite annoying. Regulus wants to be frustrated, because he doesn’t want to go, but he’s weak and he can stop himself from practically melting against James.
"Fine," Regulus mutters, dropping his head so his forehead thumps against James’ collarbone.
"Good," James murmurs above him, a hand coming up and slowly playing with the curls at the base of Regulus’ head. "It’s going to be fine, love."
"I’m not looking forward to it," Regulus grumbles petulantly.
"I know," James replies. "Just think about being able to hit Sirius with a tennis ball."
"Oh," Regulus murmurs, lifting his head and meeting James’ dark eyes. "That sounds inviting."
James chuckles, chest rumbling against Regulus. "Thought so," he says, then he ducks down and presses a quick kiss to Regulus’ lips. "Now, grab a hoodie so we can go and get you some shoes."
Regulus rolls his eyes. "Fine."
He steps out of James’ arms, feeling half-sated by only a small cuddle and a quick kiss, but he goes to get his hoodie as directed. He hasn’t taken two steps before a quick hand smacks him on the ass cheek. Regulus yelps in surprise, spinning around and staring at James in shock.
The taller man smirks, shrugging. "Sorry. I couldn’t resist."
Regulus rolls his eyes. Thankfully, the blush has disappeared by the time they’re out the door.
They’re 15 minutes late, which Regulus doesn’t think is too bad considering they had to stop on the way to get Regulus a pair of shoes. Of course, it wasn’t as clear-cut as James perhaps thought when he offered to do it. Regulus may never use the shoes again, but he absolutely refused to buy a pair that was not up to standard. He may be reaching the bottom of the barrel when it comes to dignity today, but he refuses to do it in anything less than appropriate tailor.
A light breeze makes him shiver as they make their way onto the tennis court where the other three are waiting, the cold air scrapes against his bare legs. It’s the middle of March, so it’s overcast and a gentle wind, yet the air is biting Regulus’ bare skin viciously. James has brought his own tennis rackets, which Regulus can’t tell if he finds attractive or agitating.
The other three are standing on the edge of the court when they get there, all of them dressed in similar attire to Regulus and James.
Remus spots them first, flashing them a wide smile as they walk towards them.
"Hey guys!" He says, and when he does, Sirius and Peter turn towards them too.
"Prongs!" Sirius cheers. "Hey, Reg!"
"Alright, chaps?" James beams. He high-fives Peter, ruffling the shorter mans hair. "Glad you could make it, Wormtail."
"Ye, lad," Peter grins toothily. "Left the runts with Madre so I could watch four lovely boys skip around a tennis court."
"You’re too kind," James laughs.
Peter catches Regulus’ gaze, and the beaming smile on his face doesn’t slip.
"Regulus," he says, his Scottish accent so thick Regulus can barely listen and understand at the same time. He holds his hand out, "Grand to finally fucking meet you, lad."
"You too," Regulus replies, shaking the hand and managing to flash a smile back.
"Glad you could make it, Regulus," Remus says.
"I’m already regretting my decision," Regulus mutters.
Peter laughs at that, Remus smiles, and James huffs playfully beside him, pulling him into his side.
"He’s going to love it," James says, and Regulus can’t help but roll his eyes because no. He’s not going to bloody love it.
"I’m only here so Sirius will stop texting me," Regulus shrugs.
"Hey!" Sirius whines, pouting.
Regulus feels James press a kiss into his hair and doesn’t deny the surge of smug he feels when he sees Sirius’ eye twitch at the sight.
"If it makes you feel any better, it causes Sirius as much pain to send them as it does for you to receive them," Remus adds, playfully flinching back when Sirius flashes him a glare.
"I did," Sirius grumbles. "Now I kind of enjoy it. It’s like having an electronic diary."
"Use your notes app."
Sirius pouts, and Remus laughs softly at him.
"Stand down, lads," Peter eases. "We’ve got some tennis to play. Take your anger out on each other with the tennis balls."
"How are we going to play with five?" James asks.
"I’ll watch," Remus offers. When James opens his mouth to argue, Remus holds a hand up, "I’m tired, it’s cold, and I don’t fancy being hit with a tennis ball today."
"Do I not get a choice to sit out?" Regulus asks.
"Nope," James grins. "This is going be fun. You’ll love it once you start playing."
Regulus huffs with indignation.
"Okay, what teams?"
"I’m taking Peter," Sirius says.
"Your loss," James smirks, not hesitating to sling an arm around Regulus’ shoulders.
Sirius cackles as him and Peter walk to their side of the court, shouting, "You’re going to eat your words, Prongs!"
James chuckles as he walks with Regulus still tucked into his side to their own stretch of the court.
"Any chance you’re secretly good at tennis?" James asks.
"Not likely, but I refuse to lose against Sirius."
"That’s the spirit," James winks, kissing him once before stepping away. "Remember! All you have to do is hit the ball and make sure it bounces before it rolls off the pitch."
Regulus can’t help but instantly shiver at the loss of heat from James’ side and arm agains his body.
"Are you good at tennis?"
"I’ll let you decide that."
Turns out, James is good. His movements are flawless, effortless, fluid, and he barely moves across the court to hit the ball. He rarely misses, swinging the bat and moving his feet with the grace of a dancer. Sirius is good too, annoyingly, and Regulus realises that if the two of them were together, they’d be a real challenge to beat.
Peter is as useless as Regulus. He misses almost every time, though he doesn’t look like he’s trying anymore than Regulus. The other boy seems to be more than happy to stand back and let Sirius take the court.
The game is mostly James playing against Sirius, with Peter idly joining in when the ball comes near him and Regulus standing behind James with his hands tucked into his armpits against the cold.
Regulus can’t take his eyes off James. Especially when James’ hoodie comes off, revealing a tight-fitting black shirt that makes his biceps bulge and the muscles in his broad, strong shoulder stretch the fabric on his back. Regulus’ face is warm as he concentrates on not drooling at the sight, because James looks absolutely fucking edible. Slightly sweaty, cheeks red from excursion, hair flying and curls bouncing with every swing and swipe he makes at the small ball.
Despite being marginally turned on, Regulus also can’t help but appreciate how carefree and happy James looks. He’s having fun, he’s laughing, he looks so comfortable and jolly that Regulus can’t even begrudge that he’s standing in the cold to witness it.
"It’s 40 us, 30 you," Sirius says as James collects the ball from the corner of the court.
"What?" James scoffs. "No. You have 30, we have 40."
"Moony?"
"Reset to zero," Remus replies.
Sirius huffs, but they both nod in agreement. Regulus pretends he understands what’s going on.
It begins again, this time Peter contributing even less on Sirius’ side. At one point, Sirius hits the ball so hard the tennis racket goes flying out of his hand, making James bend over and cackle with laughter.
Regulus see’s Remus looking fondly at Sirius as he retrieves the racket that landed close to him.
"You’re an idiot," Remus says.
"I’m trying my best," Sirius grins, bending down to kiss him.
Regulus looks away in time to see James stepping towards him. "Are you going to help by any chance?"
"Why would I?" Regulus replies. "I’m finding far more entertainment watching you play."
"Are you calling me shit?" James gasps.
"No," Regulus smirks. "I’m just enjoying watching you get hot and sweaty."
James blushes hard underneath his already flushed cheeks.
Then he grins, "Try and hit the ball in this set?"
"Will we win if I do?"
"We’re at a tie," James says. "So yes."
Regulus nods. "Then I’ll hit it."
He refuses to lose a game of stupid tennis against his brother.
The next game is quick. James and Sirius continue to do all the work. The ball is bouncing between their rackets faster than before, their faces pinched with concentration and competitiveness. Then, the ball comes hurtling towards Regulus. He swings automatically, hitting the ball and the vibrations from the contact making his wrist tingle. The ball ricochets, flying over the net and bouncing off the court floor. Sirius lunges for it, diving quickly, but the ball rolls off the court before he can reach it.
"Yes!" James roars, throwing his hands up.
"Fuck!" Sirius swears, chasing the ball.
"Reg!" James cries, turning to Regulus. He takes two steps forwards and then he’s swooping Regulus off the floor, legs hanging limply and spins him around. "Holy shit, baby! That was fucking wicked!"
"Yeah?" Regulus replies stupidly, all thoughts in his brain have scattered at the way James literally scooped him off the fucking ground. Regulus can barely resist the urge to wrap his legs around the other mans waist.
We’re not alone.
We’re not alone.
We’re not alone.
James puts him down, still grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, face so lit up one might think Regulus gave him a winning latterly ticket instead of one good hit at a friendly tennis match.
"You’re amazing," James breathes.
"It was a lucky hit," Regulus croaks.
"I’m not just talking about that," James murmurs, kissing his nose.
Regulus is pretty sure he’s blushing to the tips of his ears, so he quickly tucks his face into James neck and pretends to be chasing warmth instead of privacy.
"What the fuck was that?" Sirius shouts.
Regulus lifts his head, turning so he’s tucked under James’ arm and meets Sirius’ eyes across the pitch. His brother looks fuming, and it's great.
"I told you I’m good at everything," Regulus replies, barely refraining from smirking when he see’s Sirius’ face become pinched in frustration.
"You don’t even play tennis!"
Regulus shrugs nonchalantly. "Yet, you still lost."
"Hey—!"
"It’s only a friendly game, Pads," James placates, but Sirius still looks moments away from a tantrum.
"I declare a rematch!" He shouts.
"I’m out," Peter says, already walking off the court towards Remus. "The two of you can play."
James rolls at his eyes at Peter but the smile doesn’t slip from his face. He looks down at Regulus and asks, "You happy to sit while me and Sirius play?"
Regulus scoffs, patting James’ chest. "Knock yourself out."
"Thanks for the support, sweetheart."
Regulus hums, reaching up and planting a quick kiss on his lips.
"Kick his ass for me?"
"I always do," James grins.
Regulus can’t get off the court any faster. He joins Remus at the side, who’s now standing up and waiting for him.
"We’re going to go sit at the tables because there’s heaters up there," Remus explains.
Regulus nods and follows him to a small shelter a few metres back from the pitch where there is a table and chairs set up. True to his word, Remus flicks a switch as they sit down and a large heat lamp turns on above them.
"Peter has gone to get us drinks," Remus says. "Bloke can’t go more than 20 minutes without a cup of tea otherwise he gets all twitchy."
Regulus smiles. "Reminds me on Pandora."
"Addicted to caffeine? I thought that was you."
"Tea," Regulus corrects.
"Have you started that book?" Remus asks.
"I have. I finished it too," Regulus replies.
Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. "Already?"
"There was a surprising amount of downtime on my second night shift," Regulus shrugs. "I found time to read."
"Weren’t you meant to be looking after the patients?" Remus asks, lips quirked.
"They don’t need anything when they’re asleep," Regulus quips back.
"Well," the other boy continues, "You enjoyed it?"
"Very good," Regulus nods. "Reminded me a lot of Song of Achilles. Though, I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise, as it’s by the same author."
"She’s a fantastic writer," Remus agrees. "Any book recommendations for me?"
"Do you enjoy war books?"
Remus nods.
"Birdsong by Sebastian Fawkes," Regulus says. "Fantastic. World War One. Easily my favourite book to reread."
Remus smiles. "I’ll see if I can find a copy."
"I’d let you borrow mine but the spine is currently held together with tape," Regulus grimaces.
"That good of a book?"
"Either that, or a very irresponsible owner," Regulus shrugs, eyes on the tennis match before them. It’s almost hypnotising watching James from further away.
Peter appears at the table, carrying a cardboard cupholder with three takeaway cups cradled inside.
"Here," Peter says as he sits down and places the cupholder down. "Two caramel lattes for the diabetic wanna-be’s."
"Thanks, Wormtail," Remus smiles.
"Thank you," Regulus adds, taking the cup gratefully and sighing slightly when he feels the heat from the beverage burn his frozen palms.
"Fucking edjits," Peter mutters as he watches them.
"Not a tennis fan?"
"I prefer rugby," Peter shrugs. "What’s your sport?"
"Shift work."
Peter chuckles, nodding. "Fair enough, lad. These two are mad for it, but me and Moons find it fucking boring."
Regulus can’t help but scoff. "Hardly surprising."
"It only gets entertaining when they start fighting about hows won," Peter says.
"Speak for yourself," Remus mutters, shuddering as if just the thought brings him pain.
"Your fault for trying to play mediator," Peter shrugs. "Let them fight about it. It’s funny, and a couple times it’s actually ended up getting physical, which is always funny 'cause James has got like three inches on Sirius."
Remus rolls his eyes. "It’s not funny when they don’t stop whining about it for ages afterwards."
"Different perspectives of what one considers entertainment," Regulus mutters.
Peter’s eyes widen with glee. "See!"
"He just wants to see James beat up Sirius," Remus argues.
Regulus doesn’t even bother trying to deny it.
"Fair," Peter nods. "James is pretty hot when he’s in a fight. Remember the one in freshers?"
"James got in a fight?" Regulus asks, frowning.
"Aye yeah!" Peter laughs. "We were drunk of our bloody arses and some fucking bellend tried to start a fight with Pads about a lighter in the smokers. He swung at Sirius and suddenly James was tackling the prick to the floor. Turned into a full on fucking brawl. We got kicked out, but we fucking won."
"I can’t imagine James in a fight," Regulus says.
"Oh, trust me, if you ever watched him knock a lad down with a single punch and then take them without a flinch, you’d pop a boner, lad," Peter winks. "There is something insanely attractive about a man with a bloody nose."
"Got something you want to confess, Wormtail?" Remus smirks.
"Ye kink shaming me, lad?" Peter asks, flashing him a shit-eating grin.
"Oi!" Sirius shouts suddenly, and all their heads turn towards the court. "You guys keeping score?"
"Nah. But I bet my left testy that James is winning!" Peter shouts back.
Before Sirius’ face can morph into anything other than victory, Remus is adding, "He’s lying, Pads. We haven’t been watching."
"We’ll call that practice," James says, panting slightly. "We can start a set now."
"I’ll keep watch," Remus nods.
"Fucking children," Peter shakes his head. "Needing Papa Moony to keep bloody score for them."
"Hey, if this was rugby, you’d—"
"Have wiped the floor with them?" Peter smirks. "There would be no competition if I got these twats to play rugby with me."
Remus rolls his eyes.
"So, Regulus," Peter starts, leaning back and taking a sip of his tea. "What’s your favourite film?"
Regulus can’t stop his face of confusion at the random question, and apparently, neither can Remus.
"Wormtail, what the fuck?" He laughs. "What kind of a question is that?"
"What?" Peter shrugs, nonplussed. "You learn a lot about someone by learning what their favourite film is."
"Pretty Woman."
Peter’s eyes widen in surprise. Then, he nods, "Good lad."
"Does that mean I’m accepted?" Regulus smirks.
"A man who loves Pretty Woman is always accepted in this group," Peter winks. "Seriously though, any lad who makes James as happy as you’ve made him is instantly accepted. Ye one of us, whether you like it or not."
Oh. Good.
"Wonderful," Regulus mutters, sipping his coffee.
Peter barks a loud laugh, shaking his head. "You want a nickname too?"
"Fuck no," Regulus shudders. "Absolutely not. You can keep those to yourself."
Peter flashes him a shit-eating grin and turns back to the game.
While James and Sirius continue to play tennis, Regulus finds himself enjoying sitting Remus and Peter. Regulus has never been a victim to 'lad banter'. Sure he’s good at being mean, teasing, insulting, and it comes as easy as breathing with Peter and Remus. The two of them endlessly tease and mock each other, and when they’re not, they’re doing it about James and Sirius. It’s endlessly endearing, and the more Regulus chats to Peter, he can understand all the times that James told him that Peter 'chewed his ass out'. The man Regulus is sitting with seems exactly the type. No nonsense, no beating around the bush, brutally honest. He seems like the type of person to not hold back if someone is doing something he doesn’t agree with or needs their senses knocked back straight.
Regulus likes him.
He reminds him a lot of a shorter, Scottish Barty.
Later, when the tennis is finished, James takes Regulus to get smoothies on the way home. Regulus has a shift tomorrow, so James orders them a takeaway to watch the new Masterchef episodes to on the sofa. Regulus is in the shower, letting the water soothe his aching muscles from his nightshifts earlier in the week. Regulus is just towel drying his hair when he hears the front door open. Assuming it’s the food, he doesn’t jump into rushing, but then he hears a shout that has him almost jumping out of his skin.
"Regulus!"
He’s instantly scrambling for some clothes, when a moment later, his brain connects the dots and he realises that it’s—
"Reg!" Pandora shouts again. "Regulus! Are you— James, is he here?"
Regulus can hear James explaining that Regulus is in his room changing after his shower, and Regulus is only gifted a total of 10 seconds to get his pants on before the door is swinging wide open.
Pandora falls through the doorway, and instantly, Regulus is looking for injury.
Pandora looks fine. Frazzled, cheeks flushed, eyes a bit wild, but uninjured. There’s no blood, no wounds, no missing limbs or bruises. She’s dressed in a yellow dress, black boots laced up to her knees, and long blonde hair styled in waves down her face and shoulders.
She looks fine. In fact, she looks very good.
"What’s going on?" Regulus asks, feeling his heart in his throat. "Pan? Speak to me. What the fuck is going on!"
"I… They—…" Pandora stutters, panting. Regulus would feel bad but he’s so high strung with panic right now that his patience is squashed by all the scenarios running through his head of what could have happened.
"Pandora, what happened? Who is it? Was it Xeno? Have they hurt you? If they’ve hurt you, I swear to God I will rip out their windpipe and squash it with my foot while they choke to death on their—"
He’s cut off by Pandora holding up left hand suddenly. The words and threats die in Regulus’ throat at the sight of the huge, glistening, sparkly diamond ring on her finger.
"You…" Regulus croaks. "You’re engaged?"
Pandora’s face breaks out into a smile. It’s wide, it’s startled, and it’s so fucking beautiful it makes Regulus’ knees weak.
"Yeah," she rasps back. "They engaged at dinner. I’m… I’m getting married!"
"You’re getting married?" Regulus echoes, eyes flicking between the ring and Pandora’s face. Then, it slaps him in the face. "You’re getting married! Oh my— what the—!"
"I know!" Pandora cries.
Regulus flies across the room, tackling her in the biggest hug. They’re both shaking, squealing like school girls, jumping up and down.
"You’re getting married!" Regulus screams.
"I know!" Pandora shouts back.
"You’re getting married?" James asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway. When the two of them stop jumping, arms still wrapped around one another but Pandora holds her hand up again.
"I am," she replies, voice wobbly with emotion.
"Oh my God!" James squeaks. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you!" Pandora laughs, reaching out and grabbing James by the collar to drag him into the hug.
Then, the three of them continue the jumping and squeaking and crying together. Regulus feels absolutely filled with joy, overwhelmed to the point that he’s actually worried he’s going to cry.
"We need to celebrate!" James declares, and Regulus feels absolutely smitten at how supportive and caring James is being for a girl he barely knows right now.
"Yes, but not tonight," Pandora smiles, looking down at her hand and admiring the new piece of jewellery. "I need to go home and call my dad."
"Of course," Regulus nods. "Did this happen tonight?"
"They proposed at dinner," Pandora explains. "It was so perfect, Reg."
"Good," Regulus kisses her forehead. "It better have been bloody perfect."
"Dinner?" James echoes. "Did you come straight here?"
"You didn’t ditch them at the table to come and tell me, did you?"
"No!" Pandora cries, slapping his chest. "Of course I didn’t! We’re on our way home, and I told them I couldn’t go home without telling you tonight, in person."
"Thank you," Regulus whispers. "I’m so happy for you. For you both."
"Thank you," Pandora sniffs, eyes watery but smile still so, so bright.
Pandora. His precious, perfect Pandora is getting married.
She deserves the world, and Xeno better step up and make sure they provide her with it.
Regulus doesn’t care how much she loves Xeno, if they break her heart after being gifted with something so exquisite, there will be hell to pay.
But for now, he’s just going to be happy, because amongst the fighting between their best friends, the sexuality crisis’ and the feud between two brothers, this is what they need. They need something good, and Pandora is the perfect person to be granted something so wonderful.
— tbc.