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Chapter Text

Cold rain burns Regulus’ skin as he pulls the small slip of paper from his pocket with a shaking hand. He double, triple, and quadruple checks the address that he scrawled with a dying pen four years ago. He hadn't meant to keep it at the time, but he's glad he did now. All he wants is a warm shower, somewhere to wash the filth of the day from his body, and a safe place to sleep. If he can just sleep for a few hours, he’s sure it will all make sense again.

His brother lives in a flat on the first floor of an old building. Regulus was worried he would have to find a way to sneak into the building’s interior, but Sirius’ door faces out onto the street. Not ideal for safety concerns, but lucky for Regulus’ purposes. It took Regulus an hour to get there, riding three different unfamiliar buses before he made it to the neighborhood. He has never been to this part of town, didn’t think he ever would, but needs must.

His knuckles are bright red when he pulls the sleeve of his coat back so he can knock on the door. There’s muffled music coming from inside but he can’t tell how loud it is from outside. He’s just started to contemplate knocking again in case no one heard him when the door swings open.

“Pete, I swear to God if you break that table, I’m going to—” Sirius’ words cut off with a click as his mouth slams shut. He looks much the same as the last time Regulus saw him. A little shorter than he probably should be, black curls draped around his shoulders, every strand a different length like he’s been cutting it himself, a t-shirt with some unknown band on the front, and denim that looks like it has seen better days. He has more tattoos on his arms than the last time they met, but then again, Sirius had been wrapped in a thick leather jacket back then. Regulus hadn’t gotten a good look.

“Hey,” Regulus greets awkwardly when it becomes apparent that Sirius is not going to say anything, is perhaps incapable of saying anything. There is a party going on behind him, there must be at least twenty people crammed into the tiny flat, though it doesn’t look like anyone has noticed him yet. “I—” Regulus doesn’t know how to start. He jumps slightly, remembering the slip of paper, and nearly drops his backpack scrambling to pull it out of his pocket. “You gave me your address, remember?” He shoves the paper toward Sirius’s pale face.

Sirius blinks like he forgot he was awake. “I didn’t realize you still had it.”

I didn’t either, Regulus doesn’t say. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, they’re going to start chattering soon if he doesn’t get some warmth.

“Did you mean what you said? About me coming to stay?”

“You left Mum and Dad?” Sirius asks. Right, Regulus thinks, the last time they saw each other, Sirius was under the impression that Regulus still lived with their parents. He hadn’t corrected him at the time, mostly because he didn’t want to admit that he’d been kicked out the moment his parents discovered he was gay.

“I did,” Regulus says. “A few years ago,” he adds. “I was living with my boy—” He swallows nervously. “My boyfriend, but things aren’t… Listen, if this wasn’t a good idea, I can leave.” He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have any money and if Sirius turns him away, he’ll be sleeping on the street tonight. He’s done it before, but it’s been a while and he’s not sure he’ll survive a night in the bitterly cold rain.

“No!” Sirius shouts, anxious like he thinks Regulus is going to make a run for it. “Come in. Of course, you can come in.”

Regulus steps inside, finally sheltered from the rain, and nearly falls to his knees when he feels how warm it is inside. Sirius’ flat is cozy, every inch of it covered in décor like he’s been layering posters on the walls for years. He has too much furniture stuffed into his living room, only a few paces from the entryway, but Regulus guesses that has something to do with the party he’s throwing.

The two brothers stare at each other for a moment. Sirius hasn’t stepped away from the door very much, he seems incapable of moving further into the flat, and Regulus hasn’t known what to do with himself in years. So it’s awkward, as Regulus feared it would be, but it’s thankfully broken quickly by a drunk woman with hair so curly and long that anyone could get lost in it if they tried.

“Sirius, do you have a secret love child?” the woman asks. Her words slur just a bit, but she’s beautiful and her dark brown eyes sparkle in a way that makes every word seem charismatic. Regulus finds himself smiling against his will, it hurts to do so. He can’t remember the last time he smiled.

“No,” Sirius says with a huff of laughter. “He’s my brother. Regulus. Remember I told you about him?”

“Oh, yeah,” the woman says, her perfectly arched eyebrows furrowing as she takes in Regulus’ appearance. He’s sure he looks like a mess. He’d just gotten back from a twelve-hour shift and had been hoping to sleep for approximately two days when he found Barty tangled in bed with that blonde guy from the bar Barty worked at. The noises the two were making caused a horrified gasp to leave his lips and the moment Barty looked up and made eye contact, Regulus had run with nothing but the backpack he took to work. “What happened to your face, sweetheart?” the woman asks. She sounds so genuinely sad for him that blood rushes to his cheeks.

He lifts his fingers unbidden and gently touches the healing bruise under his eye. Or bruises, he supposes. The last ones hadn’t healed yet when he got the new ones.

“Just roughhousing,” Regulus says dismissively. “Nothing to worry about.” He tries to laugh like he has a million times before, but it doesn’t feel so funny when the love of his life was just fucking another man.

Sirius looks worried for a moment, but the expression is gone as soon as it comes, chased away by something that looks like false cheerfulness.

“Mary,” Sirius says to the woman, she’s still looking at Regulus’s bruises, “can you tell Remus I’m in my room? I’m going to get Regulus settled in.”

Mary gives him a look. It’s loaded, full of unspoken meaning. The two of them have known each other for a long time, that much is obvious, and Sirius clearly trusts her, but Regulus is suddenly very desperate to get her away from him. He doesn’t like being looked at like that, as if she’s pitying him.

“Sure, I’ll tell him,” Mary says. She sounds far less drunk than she did a minute ago. She turns to Regulus and grabs his hand before he can think to stop her. Her fingers are soft but strong as they squeeze his palm. It makes him feel real, just for a moment, before she finally leaves them alone.

“Come on,” Sirius says. Regulus thinks they’ll be noticed by the large group of people in the room, but Sirius seems unbothered by them and none of them even look up. He notices Mary heading into the kitchen, a tiny windowless room sequestered off from the living room, and he wonders if that’s where Sirius’ true friends are.

Regulus keeps his eyes down as they skirt around the group and into a tight hallway with four doors.

“Bathroom’s here,” Sirius says, touching the first door on the left. “James has one in his room so you only have to share it with Remus and me.”

“Okay,” Regulus replies. He vaguely remembers the name ‘James’ from when he and Sirius were children. He’s never met the man, not that he ever wanted to when he was an angry kid who blamed him for stealing his brother. They weren’t allowed to attend the same school after Sirius came back from his first year talking about things his parents didn’t allow.

“This is Pete’s room when he’s here,” Sirius says, pointing to a door opposite the bathroom. “He doesn’t live here though. The door at the end is James’s room, and this one,” he pressed on a slightly ajar door near the bathroom, it had been painted black at some point, standing out from the other doors in the hallway, “is mine.”

The room is bigger than Regulus expects given how small the hallway is. A massive bed sits up against the far wall, a desk near the window across from the door and another one to their left. Sirius turns to look at him once they’re safely inside, the door shut behind them.

“So,” Sirius says awkwardly, placing his hands on his hips, “boyfriend, huh?”

He doesn’t say it accusatorially, but Regulus bristles all the same. He feels his face flush again, the heat making him dizzy. His chest aches and his bruises twinge every few seconds, and he doesn’t want to have this conversation, but Sirius is looking at him like he won’t let him out of it. Regulus releases a resigned sigh.

“Yeah, boyfriend.”

“Since when?”

Regulus shrugs. “A few years. We met in school, but started dating after…” He does not want to share this part, he’s positive an ‘I told you so’ will follow it and he’s not in the mood.

“After?”

“After our parents kicked me out.”

Sirius’ face drops. “They kicked you out?”

“Yes.” He refuses to give any more details like what they found under his bed that led them to discover his sexuality or what they said to him before shoving him out onto the street or how long he spent sleeping on the streets before Barty took him in.

Sirius looks torn, but finally, he drops his arms. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks. It’s not what Regulus was expecting but he has even less of an answer for that than he does for everything else going wrong in his life. How does he explain that the shame of realizing Sirius was right the whole time kept him from ever picking up the phone and reaching out? It’s somehow worse realizing he waited until he needed something to find Sirius. He’s selfish. Just like Barty always said.

“I don’t know,” he settles on.

A complicated emotion flashes across Sirius’s face, but when he speaks, he sounds normal again. “You can stay as long as you want. You can take the bed tonight, Remus and I can sleep in Pete’s room. Tomorrow we’ll set up the couch for you. Do you want to use the shower?”

“Yeah,” Regulus says gratefully. “Do you have an extra set of clothes I can use? I only have my work bag.” Sirius looks worried for only a beat before heading into his closet and coming back with a soft, well-worn set of pajamas. “Thanks.”

Sirius’ smile is tight, his eyes look a bit strained; Regulus pretends he doesn’t see it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So then she says ‘Oh, James, you just make me too happy, we just have to stop seeing each other.’ I, of course, listened. I mean, I’m a gentleman.”

“You’re full of shit is what you are,” Remus says, though he’s laughing as the words leave him.

“Is he always this in denial when he gets dumped?” Mary asks. She must know the answer to that already, she’s known James longer than Remus has, but he can’t help but snicker when she asks it like she’s genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Remus says.

“No,” James says at the same time, feigning offense by clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m very grounded, everyone knows that.”

“Right,” Mary says disbelievingly.

“Anyway, now that James is done with his spiel, what was it you were going to tell us?” Remus asks. Mary had entered the kitchen with a frown on her face, worrying considering he hadn’t seen her frown in months, but James was still in the middle of his story about his latest failed date. Remus quietly thinks that James has a habit of coming on too strong, but he will never tell him that. Someone like James can only take so much criticism before he starts to break down.

“You’ll never guess who just came to the front door,” Mary says conspiratorially. She has a habit of underplaying serious things, just like James. Remus wonders if it’s something they both learned in childhood, if they picked it up from each other when it was just the two of them before going to Hogwarts.

“Who?” Remus asks before James can start guessing, derailing the conversation further.

“Regulus Black,” Mary says.

“Regulus?” James asks, his easy smile dropping. “Sirius’ brother?”

“The very one. They look so similar, it’s freaky.”

“It’s the inbreeding,” Sirius says as he turns the corner into the kitchen. “You should see my cousins, all three of them look like carbon copies.”

“Why is your brother here?” Remus asks. He doesn’t miss the way Sirius is holding his shoulders up around his ears like he’s preparing for a fight. He used to look like that back in school when he was waiting for a phone call from his parents. Remus hasn’t missed seeing it. He places a hand on Sirius’ arm without thinking, pulling him closer like it’ll keep him safe.

“He’s gay,” Sirius says with a frown.

“He’s here ‘cause he’s gay?” James asks, tilting his head like a puppy.

“He had a fight with his boyfriend,” Mary says. Her good humor from a moment earlier is gone. Remus’ nerves grow.

“I thought you said he was engaged when you left,” James says. “To a woman,” he adds unhelpfully.

“My parents set up marriages for both of us,” Sirius says. He looks distracted, his eyes flickering around the room like he’s searching for something. “I guess they kicked him out.”

“Tonight?” Remus asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “A few years ago.”

“Oh,” James says, frowning. The tension in Sirius’ shoulders makes a lot more sense now. He never talks about his family anymore, especially his brother, though he acts a bit like a dick every time Regulus’ birthday comes around. Remus tries to give him a bit of grace about it, he can’t imagine how Sirius feels about Regulus, but now knowing that Regulus also left their family and didn’t immediately come to Sirius, Remus can see Sirius’ anger starting to bubble up.

“Are you okay?” Remus asks quietly.

“Fine,” Sirius lies. He doesn’t shake off Remus’s hand, but Remus can tell it’s a close thing. They’ve been working that a lot lately, the way Sirius closes himself off when he’s upset. It always makes Remus feel like shit, though he knows it’s not Sirius’ intention. “He’s going to stay here for a while.”

“That’s good,” James says immediately. Sirius isn’t exactly asking for their approval, but both Remus and James know he needs it anyway. “He can take my room.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but a smile finally cracks through his worry. “Thank you, James,” he says. “But I gave him our room tonight.” He glances up at Remus. “I hope that’s okay.”

Remus smiles. He can see the tender brooding in Sirius’ expression and he has no choice but to be endeared by it. “It’s fine,” he says.

“Good,” Sirius whispers. “I figure we can put him on the couch once everyone is gone tomorrow. I just wanted him to have somewhere to sleep. He doesn’t have anything with him.” There is something else he’s not saying, the muscles around his mouth are pulled tight like they do when he’s holding something back. Remus looks over at Mary and finds her watching Sirius carefully. He’s curious, but he knows better than to push. He can get clarification in the morning, when they aren’t all a little too drunk and definitely a little too high for this heavy of a conversation.

“Do you think he wants dinner?” James asks, pointing to the heaps of takeaway they have sitting on the kitchen counter. They always order way too much food when they have parties, but Remus never wants to be a bad host and James is too easily swayed.

Sirius smiles again, the way only James can make him smile. Relief and judgment all in one.

“Yeah, I think he would.”

Chapter Text

Regulus manages to get four hours of sleep before the panic sets in. He’s clean and smells like Sirius because he was forced to use his soap and the unknown environment is enough to make him feel tired and safe, but when he wakes out of a stress dream, panic is swimming in his blood. He gasps awake, shaking slightly, and ends up rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The party is dead by then and the flat seems too cold like it’s been sitting empty for years.

He goes back to Sirius’ bed and tries not to worry, but he can’t seem to escape the memory of what he’d seen.

How could Barty do that to him? Regulus had been worried about Barty’s co-worker for a while, though he hates to admit that. He’d admitted it to Barty only once and Barty had laughed in his face, saying that Regulus had nothing to worry about. He knew if he brought it up again, Barty would be mad and Regulus hated angering him.

He wishes he could do something to distract himself, but he doesn’t want to overstep. He’s just happy that Sirius let him in. He’s worried that if he takes too much, Sirius will change his mind. It’s hard to tell, it’s been so long since he and his brother were on regular speaking terms and he’d just shown up out of the blue. He knows he's asking a lot.

So he doesn’t get out of bed. He aches over Barty and that guy, he replays the memory in his head against his will, and picks at his skin until it burns. Mostly he waits for someone to wake up.

Will Barty come looking for him? Will he try to fix things? Regulus imagines him showing up and apologizing and it soothes something inside of him, but not enough. The pain is still so sharp.

He doesn’t cry, though he wonders if that’s temporary. If eventually he’ll cave in on himself. He should be at home with Barty, in the bed Barty bought for them, but he can’t go back. He’s not sure he can ever go back. He spins his thoughts until there is nothing to think about but thoughts, and when Sirius finally wakes up and comes to check on him, Regulus is so lost in that maze that he doesn’t hear him come in.

“Regulus, you’re bleeding,” Sirius says. He yanks Regulus’s hand away, not very gently, and Regulus flinches hard enough to slam the back of his head into Sirius’ bed frame.

“Sorry,” Regulus says.

“What are you apologizing for?” Sirius mutters. “Is your head okay?” He leans forward like he can tell if Regulus just concussed himself simply by inspecting his hair.

“It’s fine,” Regulus says quickly. “I won’t break.”

“You won’t break. You always act like you will, but you’re just being a baby.”

“Regulus,” Sirius snaps, his fingers waving in front of Regulus’ eyes. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that,” Sirius says. “Did you sleep at all?”

“A bit,” Regulus says.

Sirius leans away. He’d been bent at the waist so that his face was level with Regulus', but when he stands back, he places his hands on his hips and stares down the length of his nose like he’s trying to peer through Regulus’ soul.

“You look like shit,” Sirius says. “What…Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks uncertainly.

Sirius turns away. “Have you eaten?”

Regulus blinks, confused for a moment. “No, I’ve been in bed.”

“Let’s get that wound cleaned up and then I’ll make breakfast.”

“I told you my head is fine,” Regulus says.

“I was talking about that,” Sirius clarifies, pointing to Regulus’ leg. He’d pulled his pajamas up and had been picking at the skin of his shin. It was now bright red and bleeding in several places. It was a bad habit. Barty said he didn’t give a shit as long as it wasn’t somewhere he had to look at all the time so Regulus made sure to do it somewhere he could hide. 

Regulus locks himself in the bathroom so that Sirius doesn’t have to see the extent of his injuries. He hisses in pain as he runs a wet flannel over the small bits of bleeding skin, then covers them all in too-large bandages that he found under the counter. When he leaves the bathroom, he can smell food cooking.

The flat is in surprisingly good shape despite the party the night before. No one else appears to be awake, but Sirius is bustling around the kitchen in a fury like he can’t get the food cooked fast enough. Regulus knows he must be hungry, he hasn’t eaten in a while, but the smell makes his stomach turn. Sirius had tried to feed him the night before but Regulus couldn’t handle eating anything. He’s not sure he’ll make it through breakfast either.

“Can you clear off the table?” Sirius asks over his shoulder.

The table has three cups on it, that’s all, but Regulus agrees and walks them into the kitchen, placing them in the sink. His brother might have a bit of a cleaning problem, he realizes with surprise. He never notices it when they were children, they had staff to clean up after them, so it never became an issue, but as he takes in the appearance of the flat around him, he realizes that there are hardly any items out of place.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asks.

“No,” Regulus replies, sitting at the table and resting his chin in his hands. The anxiety that had been eating at him all morning is starting to build, it’s starting to claw up his shoulders and wrap around his neck. He doesn’t chew on his fingers, as he usually would, but it’s a close thing.

Sirius gives him a look, scrunching up his face like he’s trying to figure something out. “You need to eat.”

“I do eat. I’m just not hungry right now.”

Sirius glares at him. It feels a bit to stern on Regulus’ raw skin. The realization of what he’s done by leaving Barty the night before is starting to make his skin itch.

“Ah, it smells like heaven out here!” The voice comes from around the corner in the hallway, but it echoes in such a way that it sounds like it’s coming from behind Regulus for a second and it makes him jump. He drops his hands below the table and digs his nails into his palms. He doesn’t want to look like an overly nervous child.

A man comes walking around in the living room completely shirtless, his brown skin glistening like he’s just gotten out of the shower and hasn’t yet bothered to dry himself completely. His joggers are hanging low on his hips, his obliques defined enough to draw Regulus’ eye before he remembers himself.

“Oh, good morning,” the man says. He grins so brightly that Regulus is half blinded by it even as he looks the other way. “You must be Sirius’ little brother.”

Regulus doesn’t reply.

“Prongs, go put on a shirt. You look like a whore,” Sirius mutters.

“I don’t want to put on a shirt. I always end up spilling on myself.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a slob.”

“Rude, I’m not a slob, you’re just a prissy—”

“Boys,” another man says. He walks so quietly that Regulus completely missed him coming into the kitchen. “No arguing.” He’s tall, that’s the first thing Regulus notices about him. The kind of tall that makes his limbs look gangly and awkward. He walks with a cane, which he’s leaning heavily on, dark shadows under his eyes making him look like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“Sorry, Moons,” Sirius says. It’s not simpering, his tone, but it’s a close thing, and it makes Regulus feel embarrassed enough to flush.

“Ignore them,” the shirtless man says, plopping down in the seat next to Regulus. “Your name's Regulus, right? Do you go by Reggie or Reg?”

Regulus scowls. “Just Regulus,” he says firmly. He’s never been one for nicknames. His answer makes the man’s smile widen.

“Okay, Regulus. My name is James.” He holds out a hand to shake and after giving himself a full two seconds to appreciate how large the man’s palm is, Regulus reaches out to shake it. James’ hand is impossibly warm, so warm that it makes Regulus’ bones feel cold as if he was never meant to touch such warmth.

“Regulus,” Sirius says, drawing Regulus’ attention. He’s standing by the man with the cane, having hurried over to him while James was speaking. His arm is wrapped around the man’s waist, pulling him close beside him. “This is Remus.”

“Hi, Regulus,” Remus says kindly, he has soft eyes though the scars running across the bridge of his nose and down the side of his neck make him look tough.

“Hi,” Regulus says giving an awkward wave that makes him want to catch on fire. Regulus watches the way they interact, the way Remus leans into Sirius just slightly, or the way Sirius tilts his chin up like he’s trying to be closer to Remus’ face. Regulus doesn’t ask about it, but he’s curious.

“Breakfast ready?” Remus asks. Too long has passed without anyone speaking and Regulus is a bit worried that it’s his fault though it’s too late to fix it now. His thoughts are loud and he wishes he could go back to bed, or maybe back to the room he shares with Barty. He doesn’t like that flat, but he knows Barty does, and Regulus can’t afford to live on his own. What will he do now?

“Yeah, you sit. I’ll grab it,” Sirius says with a small smile. Remus returns it and something passes between them, something that makes Regulus look away. Unfortunately, he ends up looking right into the eyes of James who’s watching him with an unsettling closeness.

Regulus discovers quite a few things over breakfast. The first is that Remus, as Regulus was beginning to expect, is Sirius’ partner. They’ve been together for years, approximately since they were in school together, though Regulus guesses there is more to the story than they’re letting on.

The second is that although they live in a small flat together, none of them needs to for financial reasons. James and Sirius both work for James’ father, he doesn’t completely understand their jobs, but he can tell by the way they talk about it that neither of them is worried about money. Remus works for a University both in their administration office and as an adjunct professor. He blushes when Sirius brings it up like he thinks he doesn’t deserve the position, but Regulus can tell he’s proud.

The third, and likely the most important, is that James needs a lot of attention. He listens with rapt attention anytime anyone talks, but his reactions are so intense and immediate that it trips Regulus up the few times he speaks. Sirius and Remus seem used to it, they just breeze right past the interruptions. James has a bad habit of interrupting his friends, though Regulus can tell he’s trying not to.

It’s endearing, in an odd sort of way, and he finds by the end of breakfast that he can’t stop listening to James excitedly tell them about the record store he found the week before. He glows when he knows that everyone is listening, and he turns to each of them to make sure they know he’s speaking to them.

He’s magnetic, which should shoot off warning signals in Regulus’ brain, but he can’t help the way he warms.

After breakfast, Remus and James both leave to meet up with Peter, who both lives there and doesn’t.

“He’s usually with his girlfriend. He only comes back so that none of us feel left behind.”

“Do you feel left behind?” Regulus asks. He doesn’t realize he’s going to say it until the words are out. Sirius’ eyebrows furrow.

“Of course not,” Sirius says. No, Regulus thinks, Sirius would have never had a reason to feel that way. He doesn’t let the betrayal that strikes through him remain. He needs his brother, and he doesn’t want to spend all his time angry with him. Not when he’s let him stay there for free.

He’s sure that Sirius will eventually ask him to leave, and Regulus is already mentally preparing for that day, but for now, it’s nice to not have to worry too much.

“Where is the rest of your stuff?” Sirius asks once James and Remus are gone. Regulus isn’t sure how to answer, but Sirius takes it to mean he has no idea what he’s talking about. “Your backpack is just an extra jacket and a bunch of folders.”

“That’s stuff for work, wait, you went through my backpack?” Regulus asks.

Sirius nods, completely unbothered. “So? Where is the rest of your stuff?”

“It’s at home. At Barty’s place.”

“The boyfriend?”

Regulus has the severe reaction to call Barty his ex-boyfriend, but it doesn’t seem right. They haven’t actually broken up yet. He’d seen Barty and that blonde guy, he and Barty had made eye contact, and then he was gone.

“Reg?” Sirius prompts.

“Yes, at my boyfriend’s place.”

“You two live together?”

“I don’t make enough to live on my own,” Regulus confesses, then feels hot red stretch across his cheeks as humiliation floods through him. He doesn’t mention the fact that for the first two years that he lived with Barty, he wasn’t able to find work and Barty had been paying rent for both of them. He’s been trying to pay him back in slow increments, but he can’t afford much, only a few hundred pounds over his rent payment.

He wonders if Barty will demand it all back now. If Regulus stays gone, will he ask for the years of payments back?

“It’s not a big deal,” Barty had told him. “You can do it slowly. I mean, with how much you owe, it’ll take you like eight years to pay me.”

Regulus had thanked him profusely then, but shame is all he feels now. He doesn’t have the money to pay him back, and he doesn’t want Sirius to know.

“Christ, you really get lost in your head, don’t you?” Sirius asks. The words seem harsh, but there is so much worry in Sirius’ voice that Regulus doesn’t feel offended.

“Sorry,” he says automatically. It’s better to just apologize first, it’s never as bad that way.

Sirius frowns. “Do you want me to take you over there so you can grab your clothes?”

Regulus thinks about what Barty must be doing now. It’s a Saturday morning, so he probably won’t be working until later in the afternoon. He works at a bar, but he doesn’t need much money given the monthly allowance he gets from his parents, but he likes the extra cash that they can’t trace.

“Not right now,” Regulus says. He doesn’t want Barty to see him. He’s afraid if Barty asks him to come back that he’ll agree, and it was such a task getting away yesterday. “I’ll go tomorrow after work.”

“You have work on a Sunday?”

Regulus nods.

“Where do you work?”

“In an office,” Regulus says. He works for a barrister, he thought it would be a stable job, but he’s barely being paid and he has to come in every weekend just to make sure he has enough to pay bills. Mr. Slughorn, the man he works for, isn’t exactly a nice man, but at least it’s a paycheck.

“Okay, I’ll take you tomorrow,” Sirius says.

“My office is far,” Regulus says. Over an hour away, he doesn’t say.

“You’re going to carry all your belongings back here? I didn’t see a car so I’m assuming you took the bus,” Sirius says.

By the time he goes to bed that night, on the couch now that there is no party going on and after a day of idly exploring Sirius’ huge record collection once Sirius thankfully leaves him alone, Regulus had unhappily agreed to let Sirius pick him up from work before going to Barty’s. He doesn’t have a car, but Remus does, and he doesn’t mind them taking it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius manages to give Regulus every single spare blanket and pillow in their flat before he crawls into bed next to Remus. All the muscles in his face are strained when he flops down, his hair flying everywhere.

“Okay?” Remus asks. He’s exhausted. It was a bad day, his joints ached and every inch of him felt like it was burning. He’ll have a fever in the morning.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, but it huffs out of him like it pains him.

“Did Regulus get settled?”

“He’s different,” Sirius replies, his voice rough. Remus can see how troubled he looks and he wishes he could do more. It hurts him to see Sirius like this. It’s like how he was back at school when his parents wouldn’t let them speak or see each other, when the divide between the two brothers was growing infinitely wider.

“Different how?”

Sirius looks for a moment like he might start crying, but then his face clears and the emotions vanish. “He wasn’t a jumpy kid. He was quiet, but not like this. You’d think we were about to throw him out on the street.”

“Do you think it has to do with his boyfriend?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius whispers. “I can’t believe our parents kicked him out. He looks like an abandoned puppy.”

The tears do come then, but they don’t stay for very long. Sirius clings to Remus’ side until it passes, and Remus feels bad that he enjoys the way Sirius is pressed into him.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t want him to leave,” Sirius whispers. “I want him to stay.”

“I know,” Remus says, because he really does. He’s known that Sirius wanted Regulus here for years, even when he refused to say his name.

“I have to convince him to stay.”

Chapter Text

Regulus expects to spend the night worrying the hours away as he had the night before, but the moment Sirius leaves him on the couch, blankets and pillows stacked up around him like he’s trying to make a fortress, he drifts off. He wakes after a dreamless night to Sirius banging around in the kitchen. Regulus is sure he wasn’t like this when they were teenagers, he never imagined Sirius being a morning person.

“You’re very loud,” Regulus complains, too groggy to remember that Sirius is doing him a huge favor and he shouldn’t act ungrateful.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius says, blinking at Regulus like he forgot he was there. “Moony has a fever. I need to make him some soup.”

“It’s six in the morning,” Regulus says. “That’s too early for soup.”

Sirius pauses. “I suppose you’re right. Tea then, and toast. That’s easy on the stomach.”

“Is he ill?” Regulus asks.

“He’s not ill. He just gets like this sometimes.”

Regulus is curious, he isn’t sure what Sirius is keeping from him, but he can tell that there is a lot more to the story than what he’s letting on, but he decides it’s better not to push it. Not to mention that Sirius’ boyfriend’s health isn’t really his business.

“Okay,” Regulus agrees.

“When do you have to leave for work?” Sirius asks idly.

“In an hour,” Regulus says. Slughorn won’t be in until after eleven if he comes in at all, but he’ll notice if Regulus isn’t logged in and he has more than enough work to keep him busy. Slughorn needs a team of people working for him, but he’s too cheap to do it and Regulus is too desperate to say anything. “Can I use your shower?”

Sirius only nods and Regulus leaves before Sirius starts banging pots around again. The morning is too early for such noises. The best thing about living with Barty is that he would often be so dead asleep in the early morning that the only noise coming from him were his light snores.

Regulus showers quickly and redresses in the clothes he first arrived in. Slughorn might notice the repeat attire, but it’s a risk Regulus is going to have to take. They smell lightly of sweat so Regulus sprays them with the cologne sitting on Sirius’ counter and hopes that no one notices. He leaves without saying goodbye as Sirius must be back in his room, the kitchen and the living room empty. He jots down the address for a store several blocks away from his job and leaves it on the fridge.

He’s not embarrassed of the place he works, but he’s not exactly proud of it either. Plus he doesn’t want to hear what Sirius has to say when he sees what a shithole it is. He’s more than happy to keep that knowledge to himself. Not even Barty has seen where he works, and for that he’s thankful.

Slughorn isn’t there when he arrives. Regulus doubts he’ll be in at all when he sees the state of the office. He rarely works on weekends, he only makes Regulus do it.

The office is below ground, an apropos description of the way Slughorn runs his business. Regulus has to unlock a metal door on the street level, then climb down a lopsided staircase, and unlock a second metal door to reach the inside of the office. It smells like piss and mold on the stairs, but at least the old office is relatively neutral.

His desk is covered in papers, most with tiny scribbled instructions in the corners. Slughorn has left him more work than he can get done in one day, meaning he’ll have to stay late tomorrow, which he isn’t looking forward to. He slides a few of the pages off to the side and places his forehead against the table, the cold wood making his heart rate settle just a bit. He’s anxious to the point of shaking and he’s been trying to avoid thinking about it all morning, but in the silence of the office—the only noise the buzzing from the lights above him—he feels it overwhelm him.

It takes a solid ten minutes before his body calms enough for him to get into work. It’s going to be a long day regardless, but at least if he’s clearing things off his desk, he’ll feel more productive than useless.

By the time he’s meant to leave, his vision is blurry from looking at paperwork and he’s dehydrated. He didn’t bring any food or water with him and he doesn’t have the money to go out and buy anything. Especially now that he’s not living with Barty. If Barty asks for more of his money back, if he asks for more than Regulus is giving now, then Regulus needs to be prepared to go without.

His joints hurt slightly as he closes up the office and heads down the street to the store where Sirius is supposed to pick him up. He needs to stretch, or maybe exercise, he needs to do more than he’s actively doing. It’s hard though given how much of his time is taken up by work.

It’ll be worse now if he has to take the bus to and from his brother’s flat every day. At least Barty’s flat is nearby. That hour-long trip is going to eat away at his free time.

“Hey, where were you? I’ve been waiting for an hour.” Sirius’ unhappy voice makes him shiver. He wants to curl up into himself, wrap around a blanket and sleep until he doesn’t remember his name. Instead, he lifts his eyes to see Sirius watching him intently, his arms crossed over his chest. Regulus looks at the watch on his wrist—a cheap thing Slughorn had given him after he’d worked there for a month.

It’s later than he thought, though not late enough that Sirius should be this upset.

“Did you arrive too early?”

“You don’t work in this store,” Sirius said, pointing at the mart behind them.

Regulus looks at it slowly, then turns his head back to Sirius. “No, I don’t.”

“Why did you tell me you did?”

“I didn’t,” Regulus corrects. “This is just the address I gave you.”

“Why are you hiding the actual location of your work?” Sirius demands. He’s too pointed. Barty never gave a shit where Regulus was working. Once he realized that Regulus spent most of his day alone, only meeting with his middle-aged boss periodically, he’d stopped asking about it. He’s not sure he knows why Sirius cares.

“I’m not hiding it,” Regulus lies. Sirius raises both of his eyebrows, the tension around his mouth growing taut. “It’s just not a very nice office. Besides, it’s no one's business but mine.”

“You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?” Sirius asks.

Regulus scoffs. “No.” He’s pretty sure he’s not lying.

“Regulus, I don’t know about this,” Sirius says.

“It’s not up to you.”

“Regulus—”

“Stop saying my name,” Regulus snaps. “Are we going to get my stuff or not?”

Sirius lets out an irritated noise. “Whatever. Where is your flat?”

“It’s Barty’s flat,” Regulus mutters, more to himself than anything. He’s never really thought of it as his, despite living there for so long. He always made sure to keep himself small in every area of Barty’s flat, never putting up his own decor, never leaving things out, keeping himself as contained as possible.

He didn’t want to be a burden.

“It’s ten streets that way,” Regulus says, pointing over Sirius’ shoulder. “We can drive or walk.”

“Let’s drive,” Sirius grumbles. “It’s getting cold.”

Sirius’ car was an old piece of garbage, in Regulus’ opinion. Not that he could complain much since he didn’t even have his driving license.

“Why do you own this?” Regulus can’t stop himself from asking as he gets into the passenger seat, kicking away a few empty bottles at his feet.

“It’s Moony’s. Remus’. He won’t let me get him anything new. I’m just waiting for it to break down so that I can buy him something better.”

“Do you own a car?” Regulus asks.

“Nope, I have a motorcycle though.” He beams as he says it. “But I didn’t think you’d appreciate having to pack your stuff onto it for me to bring you home.”

Home. The word bounds around his head.

“You were correct,” Regulus says. “Turn here.” He points to one of the streets ahead and Sirius takes the turn just a hair too slowly. “You drive like an old person.”

“I’m being safe,” Sirius says too cheerfully. “Where should I pull over?”

“In front of the blue door,” Regulus says. The building Barty lives in is relatively tall, several floors higher than all the buildings around it. It’s not the nicest place, but it’s much nicer than the street. The blue door had been red when they moved in, but Barty hated it, and he kept vandalizing it until the owners gave in and painted it blue.

“You can wait here,” Regulus says.

“I’m coming in,” Sirius replies, brokering no argument. “You won’t be able to carry all your stuff down yourself.”

“You’d be surprised,” Regulus mutters.

His hands grow shaky again as they climb up the stairs inside the building. The lift had been broken for months and Regulus had gotten used to the long six floor climb to Barty’s flat. He’s almost certain that Barty won’t be there, but he can’t deny that he’s nervous. Barty could have changed his schedule or called in. He could be lying in wait and Regulus could have no idea.

He hopes that doesn’t happen. He doesn’t want his brother and Barty to interact. He has no idea what kind of information Barty would share about him and Sirius likely already thought the worst of him. He didn’t need to know about everything else too.

Regulus can barely manage to get the key into the keyhole, but he finally gets it after a slight struggle. He tries not to pause once he has it inside. It’s too late now if Barty is there. He wishes Sirius had agreed to wait in the car. The door swings open, which is a good sign, Barty always added extra locks when he was home, to reveal a cold, dead flat.

The last time Regulus stood in this exact spot, he’d been watching Barty writhe on top of another man, the bedroom door open wide enough that Regulus could see them from the front door, his hair matted down with sweat and his body on full display. His chest grows tight the same way it did that night. It’s like someone is grabbing him around the ribs and squeezing as hard as humanly possible.

He gasps and it must draw Sirius’ attention. He feels Sirius’ hand on his back, it’s gentle but strong, he can feel the support behind it and it makes him burn with mortification. He feels so weak. Pathetic.

“This should only take a moment,” Regulus says, his voice just above a whisper. He hurries through the door, flipping on lights as he goes. The flat is a mess, clothes and empty food containers tossed haphazardly around the room. Regulus ignores it. He will never clean up after Barty again.

Sirius doesn’t speak as Regulus enters the bedroom, grabbing a trash bag from the bathroom and quickly throwing the contents of two clothing drawers into it. He only owns one other pair of shoes and grabs them with his spare hand. He doesn’t have anything else that he doesn’t share with Barty except for his toothbrush and a small plant that’s halfway dead. He grabs them both, drops his key on the kitchen counter, and with his chin as high as he can manage it, he walks out of the flat, refusing to look back.

He will not cry in front of his brother, of that much he’s sure, but if he takes even one moment to think about the unknown road in front of him, the safety of Barty’s flat being left behind, tears will spring to his eyes.

“That’s all you have,” Sirius says and it’s not a question. His voice sounds flat like something horrible has just occurred to him.

“I don’t need much.” Regulus has survived a long time with only enough clothes to last him for two weeks. He can go on doing it without issue.

Sirius is eerily quiet on the drive back to his place, but Regulus feels grateful for it. He’s not sure he wants to talk, not with all the complicated feelings climbing up his throat. He may never see Barty’s flat again. He hopes he doesn’t. He used to dream about getting his own place when they first moved in together, but over the years, as his debts to Barty piled up, Regulus had given up on that dream.

It’s odd to be leaving the flat for a couch in his brother’s living room.

It’s not exactly the step up in life he’d once hoped for, but at least it’s a step.

He thinks about Barty and that man, shagging in the bed they’d shared, and his stomach hurts bad enough to feel nauseous, so he closes his eyes and places his forehead against the cold window. Rain has begun to fall by the time they make it back to Sirius’ flat. When Regulus steps out into it, the cold water brings the tears he was fighting earlier back to his eyes. It’s refreshing though, there is no fear behind it. The tears feel like freedom.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus is burning with a high fever when he wakes up Sunday morning. Sirius had already placed a wet flannel against the back of his neck sometime before he opened his eyes. He’s comforted by it, a tiny thoughtful act to remind him that Sirius loves him, sometimes to a degree that makes Remus wonder if he really understands how deep Sirius’ love goes.

He doesn’t get out of bed for a long time. Eventually, Sirius comes to bring him breakfast, but he moves around their room so silently that Remus barely cracks his eyes open to see him. He sleeps until mid-morning, then eats slowly before getting out of bed. His back is bothering him, he notices as he stands, the twinging pain enough to make him heave a breath.

The sweat clinging to his hairline from the fever makes him want to shower, but he’s not sure how long he can stand on his own. He tries to freshen up slightly before heading out into the living room.

James and Sirius are both sitting on the floor, their backs against the couch still covered in blankets from where Regulus slept the night before.

“Morning,” Remus says, his voice still rough from sleep.

Sirius smiles but it doesn’t touch his eyes. He’s worrying about something, Remus knows because his lips are bitten and bright red.

“Afternoon,” he responds cheekily. Remus smiles. He’s walking with his cane, but everything still hurts. He can feel himself hobbling awkwardly but neither Sirius nor James get up to help him. They both know by now that Remus wouldn’t appreciate it.

“I’m about to make sandwiches, if you want one,” James says, though his eyes don’t leave the telly. They’re watching some trashy reality show that Remus has been sure to avoid like the plague.

“Not hungry yet,” Remus says, walking slowly to the chair near the couch. He grunts when he sits down in it, drawing Sirius’ attention.

“Is it your back?”

“It’s fine,” Remus says automatically. Sirius frowns, looking away like a shunned dog. It makes Remus’ pain grow a bit but he doesn’t take it back. “Where is Regulus?”

“At work,” Sirius says. “I’m going to pick him up later.”

“Is he officially moving in?” James asks.

“Yep,” Sirius says, the tiniest ghost of a smile on his lips. “He doesn’t want to go back to his ex. We’re going to pick up all of his stuff tonight.”

“Nice,” James says. He sounds like he really means it. There is a sparkle in his eye, one Remus has seen many times before. It’s dangerous in this situation and Remus wants desperately to pretend he didn’t see it. Regulus seems shy and very constrained. Remus is sure there is more to him than meets the eye, but that doesn’t mean the parts of him they have yet to unveil are going to be parts that like James’ attention.

He could see Regulus being easily overwhelmed by everything James has to offer, and if James scares him off, then Sirius will be hurt by it.

It’s complicated. Very complicated.

“I think I’m going to shower,” Sirius says, jumping to his feet. He waggles his eyebrows at Remus, as if he’s trying to proposition him. Remus can’t help but laugh. It’s a bit over the top, especially given that Sirius is just trying to help Remus bathe, however he can’t find himself to be mad at the behavior. He knows Sirius cares, and he knows better than most how it feels to see someone he loves in pain.

“I’ll join you,” Remus says, pushing himself to his feet with another pained grunt.

“No loud noises please,” James says. “I’m still traumatized from last time.”

“You’re not traumatized, you’re jealous,” Sirius jokes.

James scowls dramatically. “One day I’m going to get a partner and they’re going to be so loud, you two will be forced to sleep out on the stoop.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Sirius says with a wave of his hand.

They do end up showering together, Sirius holding Remus up for most of it so that he can let the hot water run over his sore back. He scrubs his hair till he’s sure it's clean, then lets Sirius kiss him until he’s breathless. He wishes he felt better so he could do something about the naked, beautiful man pressed up against him, but he’s already getting tired again, the fever only growing. It’s going to be a bad one, probably a few days of burning before it goes away.

Remus eats with James and Sirius after his shower and then he crawls back in bed and sleeps most of the day away.

Sirius is buzzing around the room anxiously when he wakes, Remus’ car keys are jingling in his hand. Remus gets up so he can see him off. He hates when Sirius is all anxious energy like this, it puts him on edge too.

Sirius seems irritable when he leaves to go get Regulus, but he kisses Remus tenderly on the lips before he goes and Remus knows he’s trying. When they come back, Regulus goes straight to the bathroom, his hair drenched from the rain and his face pulled into a sullen grimace. Remus watches him go, his eyes immediately jumping to Sirius who walks in just a few paces behind his brother. He looks blank, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Everything okay?”

“I should have found him,” Sirius breathes, the words sounding like he was punched in the gut as he thought them.

“What?”

“I should have looked for him earlier, or taken him from my parents' home.”

“There was no way you could have known,” Remus says softly.

“I think I might have failed him,” Sirius whispers. The dark look in his eyes is gone before Remus can capture it, replaced by the false levity that makes Remus’ skin crawl. “Did James make dinner?”

“He’s almost done,” Remus says. James doesn’t usually cook all the time for them, but he enjoys being in the kitchen and on weekends, when he doesn’t have to worry about going into the office, he enjoys making meals for his friends. Sirius told him once that it reminded him of James’ mum, she’s always in the kitchen whenever they go over to visit.

“Good,” Sirius says, hurrying into the kitchen to where James is loudly humming to a song Remus doesn’t recognize.

When Regulus joins them for dinner, he’s freshly showered and expressionless. His eyes are the tiniest bit red like he was crying in the shower, but no one says anything.

“Are you hungry?” Sirius asks.

Regulus’ shoulder tense for only a second before they drop. “Yes,” he says. A small smile slips out, probably one of the first real smiles Remus has ever seen on the man’s face. “Starved.”

Regulus goes to sit at the table, pausing only when James jumps to his feet and pulls it out for him. Remus fights not to cover his face in embarrassment. He’s glad he manages it because otherwise he would have missed the smile look on Regulus’ face, an expression of wonderment, like no one has ever done anything nice for him.

James radiates happiness when he notices.

Remus can only shake his head and glance at Sirius to see if he’s noticed. He just looks blank again, like he did earlier that night. Remus reaches out under the table to squeeze his leg. He doesn’t want Sirius to blame himself, but he knows it’s unavoidable. He rubs his hands back and forth over Sirius’ muscled thigh and Sirius finally drags his eyes away from his brother, smiling back at Remus.

Dinner feels like more than it is that night. It feels like the spark of the new normal. Regulus, Sirius’ baby brother, is sitting at their table looking reserved, the bruises on his face just beginning to turn yellow around the edges, and James is grinning at him like he’s just met his new best friend.

By the end of the meal, Regulus is even smiling back.

Chapter Text

A week passes. Regulus sleeps on the couch and wakes each morning feeling surprisingly rested. He has more energy than he’s had in months and it almost feels wrong. He feels like Barty would be angry with him if he knew how he was feeling. Though Barty betrayed him, he can’t help but feel that he did something to deserve it. He’s deserved all the other bad things in his life, so it only makes sense.

He didn’t stand up to his parents like Sirius did, and he ended up homeless. He didn’t work hard enough at school, and he ended up struggling to find work as an adult. He let Barty pay for things, and his other debts just kept growing. Like karmic justice but more pointed. That’s why he never minded the roughhousing. Barty was right, Regulus was the weaker of the two of them so it made sense that he would be the one covered in bruises. Besides, the bruises made it feel like he was paying off some sort of dues that he owed the universe.

So he feels hurt by Barty cheating but mostly he feels like it was deserved. And he feels rested after sleeping at his brother’s flat but he feels guilty about that rest. It’s complicated, but time passes anyway.

He goes to work every day that week and stays late every afternoon. Slughorn is always insinuating that he’s going to fire Regulus, talking about how the last man in his role “wouldn’t do anything,” all while giving Regulus a very pointed look.

Regulus cannot afford to lose his job so he stays late, working until his shoulders ache and his eyesight is blurry. Sirius offers to take him to work and pick him up every day but Regulus vehemently refuses each time. He already feels like a massive burden, there is no reason to add to it. Still, Sirius texts him each afternoon asking if he needs a ride, and when Regulus says no, Sirius asks when he’ll be home.

Regulus hasn’t felt this surveilled in years but it doesn’t feel claustrophobic as he would expect. It’s almost nice. It kind of makes him feel wanted.

He takes the bus to Sirius’ flat each night and feels nauseous from hunger and motion sickness by the time he lands on Sirius’ street. It’s not that bad, though, it’s manageable, and when he gets inside, either Sirius or one of his friends is always in the middle of cooking dinner. Regulus gets to eat a full meal every night, and better than that, he gets to sit at a table with his brother and his brother’s friends and feel, for a moment, like he belongs there.

When Sirius first came home talking about the great friends he’d met at school, Regulus had been furious and hurt, feeling like he was being left behind. He never questioned if the friends were really that great, in his mind, they were perfect. Why else would Sirius prefer them over Regulus?

Those perfect people that only existed in Regulus’ mind turn out to be amazingly normal. Regulus is not surprised that he likes them, but he is surprised that he doesn’t feel bad for liking them. He’s always felt a little lost in his own feelings, like vines he couldn’t stop from spreading across his body and destroying him. It’s a relief not to feel so weighed down.

“She didn’t give me her number, remember? She gave me her brother’s number,” James says. It’s Friday night and Regulus is grateful that he doesn’t have to return to the office until Monday. Slughorn is going out of town so he doesn’t have to worry about working himself to death over the weekend. James’ face is glowing as he speaks, his cheeks a little pink like he’s embarrassed but he’s enjoying the attention too much to stop.

“Yeah, she gave you her brother’s number because she thought you were gay,” Peter replies. Peter is the calmest of Sirius’ friends. He doesn’t live in the flat with them anymore, not really, but he comes over for dinner every other night. He spends the rest of his time with his girlfriend.

“Why did she think you were gay?” Remus asks, his eyebrows furrowed. Regulus spends the most time talking to Remus. He wouldn’t have expected to like his brother’s partner so much, but Remus is wildly intelligent and sarcastic. He’s funny, and he doesn’t talk to Regulus with kid gloves on like Sirius does.

Regulus finds Remus’ job fascinating, he asks about what he teaches and ends up getting a free hour-long lecture on Folklore. He’s just waiting for another moment to bring it up. Remus seems reserved, but when he gets on a topic he really cares about, he never shuts up.

“Because she caught James in the alley near the bar on his knees,” Sirius says. His words shock Regulus enough that he starts choking, and he has to cough roughly several times to clear the food from his windpipe. Remus, who is sitting next to him, pats him twice on the back.

James’ red face gets even brighter, but he laughs ardently, unbothered by the humiliation. Regulus has never met someone so untouchable. Even Sirius, with all his confidence, wasn’t unfazed by embarrassment. Regulus doesn’t notice that he’s staring with his mouth hanging open until Remus coughs once, drawing his attention away.

“Honestly, you suck one guy off, and suddenly you can’t be attracted to women,” James says, shaking his head with mock disappointment. Sirius is crying with laughter, as is Peter. Remus just looks fond. Regulus can understand the feeling.

“Did you ever end up getting her actual number?” Remus asks once the laughter dies a bit.

“Nope,” James says. “She was disappointed I never called her brother, apparently he was looking forward to it. I don’t even know the guy!”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Peter says.

“You’re making me sound like a slag,” James reprimands. Something pulls harshly at Regulus’ chest but he doesn’t dare put a name to it.

“You’re not a slag, you’re a hopeless romantic,” Remus says.

“What does that mean?” Regulus asks. The entire table turns to look at him. He thinks for a moment that they must have forgotten he was there and he’s almost a little insulted, but then Sirius replies.

“You don’t know what a hopeless romantic is?” Sirius asks.

“No?” Regulus says uncertainly. “Should I?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t know what that means.”

“I’m not even sure I know how to explain it,” Peter mutters.

Remus says, “It’s someone who believes in fairytale endings.”

“Do fairytales usually include sucking someone off in an alleyway?” Regulus asks.

James groans, dropping his face into his hands as the rest of the table bursts into laughter. “I thought it was love at first sight,” James mumbles into his hands.

This only makes Sirius, Remus, and Peter laugh harder, but Regulus feels confused. “Why?”

James lifts his head to look at Regulus. His gaze makes Regulus feel warm. “Because he called me handsome.”

Regulus frowns slightly. “That doesn’t seem like a very good reason.”

James smiles. “What would be a good reason?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus says quickly. “I don’t think I believe in love at first sight.”

James gasps. “You don’t?”

“No?”

“Regulus, that’s horrible.”

Regulus likes the way his name sounds coming out of James’ mouth. “Is it?”

“Yes! Haven’t you ever been in love?”

Regulus is sure James doesn’t mean it as a deep question, but it hits Regulus like a train. Has he? He thought he was in love with Barty but more and more he’s starting to worry that he doesn’t know what love feels like.

“James,” Sirius says sharply.

“Peter, tell us what happened with your boss today. How did your meeting go?”

Peter scoffs, remembering something that offended him earlier in the day. “She didn’t even know I was in the office!” Peter says loudly. He launches into a story about his boss, a woman who seems unable to manage even a singular employee, but Regulus is barely listening. He doesn’t understand what he did wrong to derail their conversation. For the rest of the discussion that night, he keeps seeing James look at him from the corner of his eye. He’s not sure what he’s looking for.

After dinner, Regulus helps do the dishes. He offers to do them himself every night, but usually, Remus or Peter help him. That night when Regulus grabs each of their plates and carries them into the kitchen, it’s James who follows him.

“You wash, I’ll dry?” James asks.

“Sure.” Regulus rolls up his sleeves as he turns the water on as hot as it can go. They work in silence for a few comfortable minutes. Regulus is unbothered by everyone else, but there is something about having James standing so close to him that makes him hyperaware of his presence.

“I’m sorry about dinner,” James says after a while. His voice is quieter than Regulus has ever heard it. He sounds chastised.

“What do you mean?”

James glances down at him. “I shouldn’t have asked if you’d ever been in love, I know you just got out of a relationship.”

Regulus chews on that as he carefully washes another plate. It’s so clean he can see his reflection in it by the time he hands it to James. “I wasn’t offended. I just…”

“You just?”

Regulus bites the inside of his lip, unsure of how to answer. He’s worried he’s oversharing when he says, “I’m not sure I ever have been in love.”

“You weren’t in love with your ex?” James asks. His face is curious, but it quickly closes. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“I don’t know,” Regulus says honestly. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Well, sure,” James says.

Regulus ponders the way James’ shoulders fall when he says it like it’s something he’s ashamed of. “Are you still in love with them?”

James glances at him, his eyebrows furrowed, and when he looks away, he seems thoughtful. He stacks four plates together and places them on one of the middle shelves above the stove. His fingers tap against the counter when he lowers them, a quick little beat that echoes in Regulus’ head.

“No, I’m not,” James says. “It’s been a long time. I haven’t thought about it in forever.”

Regulus hums.

“What?” James asks.

“Huh?”

“Why did you hum?”

Regulus feels his face go hot. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He’s never felt so inspected before.

“Do you not believe me?” James asks.

He sounds so serious that it makes Regulus laugh. “No, that’s not it.”

James smiles, his eyes brightening. “Then what is it?”

“Well, it’s going to sound mean now,” Regulus says, only partially joking.

“I don’t mind if you’re mean,” James says.

Regulus chuckles. “You say that now.” James just grins and Regulus is helpless to deny him. “I guess I always thought that when you love someone, truly love them, you love them forever. Like nothing can stop you from loving them, even if you don’t speak to them or if they hurt you.”

James leans his hip against the counter, his palm flat on the surface, his fingers still tapping. It’s like a permanent nervous energy is running through his body and he can’t bring himself to stop moving or he’ll go crazy. No wonder he and Sirius are friends. Sirius was always like that growing up, constantly in motion. It always made Regulus feel like he was too still. He wonders if James notices that same flaw, the unnatural stillness in Regulus’ form.

“And you said you’re not a hopeless romantic,” James says. He sounds like he’s joking, but his eyes hold a fierce curiosity.

“I didn’t say that,” Regulus denies. He can’t look at James and think straight, so he turns back to the sink only to discover that he’s already finished the dishes and there is nothing left to hold his attention. He still doesn’t look up as he says, “I just said I didn’t know what it meant.”

“But you don’t believe in love at first sight.”

Regulus shakes his head. “How can you love someone if you barely know them?”

“Some people think it’s harder to love someone when you really know them,” James says.

“Do you think that’s true?” Regulus asks, finally looking up. James looks troubled, but only for a brief moment.

“I don’t know,” James says. “According to you, I’ve never been in love in the first place.”

Regulus rolls his eyes to cover the way his face burns again. “You shouldn’t listen to me about love.”

“Why not?”

Because I don’t deserve it. The words flash into his mind faster than he can stop them, and he feels himself go pale. He turns his back to James so he doesn’t see and says, “Because I don’t know anything.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus is just settling into bed when James bursts into their room. Sirius is half undressed, his jeans still hanging low on his hips as he pulls his shirt over his head. He typically sleeps naked though he’s taken to wearing pajamas now that Regulus lives with them.

“What if he needs me in the middle of the night and he comes in here to find me starkers?” Sirius had told Remus at the beginning of the week.

“He’s not a little kid,” Remus had replied, unable to stop himself from laughing. “He’s not going to open the door without knocking unless he’s being murdered out there, and honestly, I think he’d have more problems in that situation than seeing your loose cock while you’re sleeping.”

“My cock is anything but loose,” Sirius had replied primly. 

If only Remus had realized it wasn’t Regulus they had to worry about entering without knocking.

“James, we talked about this,” Remus says. He sounds like a parent, but he’s too knackered to care.

“I need you guys to go out tomorrow,” James says. He’s whispering, and he keeps looking back at the bedroom door, which has already been closed. It reminds Remus of when they were teenagers, and James would rush into the dorm to tell them his newest prank that he was planning.

“Go out where?” Sirius asks. He unbuttons his trousers and lets them fall to the floor, leaving him in only his pants. Remus foolishly feels the sting of jealousy. He hates when anyone gets to see Sirius like this, all muscles and tattoos, his body on display like a work of art. He wants to dig his teeth into the inside of Sirius’ thigh, and he has to look away before he loses control. His eyes land back on James to see him watching Remus with a knowing smirk.

“Anywhere, I just need the flat to myself,” James says. Sirius jumps onto the bed next to Remus, and the mattress bounces enough to make a squeaking sound.

“Why?” Remus asks.

James looks confident, but he curls in on himself just enough to be noticeable, and it makes Remus raise one of his eyebrows.

“I’m going to cook dinner,” James says slowly.

“Aw, Jamie, your cooking isn’t that bad, you don’t have to kick us out,” Sirius mocks.

James laughs and says, “Yeah, don’t react so soon.”

“Who are you cooking dinner for?” Remus asks. Sirius’ head snaps over to look at Remus, his long hair flies over his shoulder and slaps Remus on the side of the head. Remus shifts away and shoves Sirius playfully on the shoulder. “Watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“You love it,” Sirius purrs.

“Who are you cooking dinner for, James?”

James takes a deep breath, holding his hand in front of his chest like he’s about to give some overdramatic monologue. “Regulus.”

Sirius stills. “Why are you cooking dinner for my brother?”

“Because I want to,” James says evasively.

“He just got out of a relationship. And he’s my brother,” Sirius says grimly.

“It’s not a date,” James hurries to say. “But—”

“He’s my brother,” Sirius repeats.

“I know!” James looks at the door quickly as if he thinks Regulus is going to come barreling in because James spoke a little too loudly. “I know,” he whispers. “But I think we could be friends, and I want to make him dinner.”

Remus is sure Sirius is going to refuse, he cannot imagine Sirius agreeing to James pursuing Regulus. Remus isn’t sure that it’s such a good idea, either. Sirius is right, Regulus just got out of a relationship, and on top of that, he has a skittishness about him that makes Remus think there’s a lot more to the story that he’s not telling them.

Sirius reaches over and grabs Remus’ hand. Remus looks at him curiously but Sirius is staring at James.

“Okay, if he’s okay with it, then we’ll make ourselves scarce.”

“We will?” Remus asks.

“I’ll take you out to dinner,” Sirius says with a wide smile.

Remus laughs. “If you say so.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” James says, obviously relieved.

“But if he doesn’t want to be alone with you, then you have to leave him be,” Sirius says sternly.

James looks hurt. “I know.”

Sirius nods and when James finally leaves their bedroom, Sirius looks humiliated.

“What was that about?” Remus asks.

Sirius rubs his face, the good humor dropping abruptly. “I feel like I’ve been a shit brother.”

Remus places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “You haven’t. You did the best that you could at the time. You had no way of knowing that he was gay or that your parents would kick him out.”

“I don’t know,” Sirius says. “Maybe there were signs that I missed or something. I don’t want James to scare him off now, but I also can’t… You know, it’s James.”

“You can’t say no to James.”

“Definitely not.” Sirius laughs self-deprecatingly.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Regulus will like getting to spend the night alone with James.”

Sirius gags. “Don’t say spend the night like that.” He pauses. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Remus says, but he can’t help but laugh. “All you have to do is pay attention.”

Chapter Text

From the moment Regulus wakes up Saturday morning, he’s sure he’s being watched. It should make him nervous, it would likely make him nervous with any other group of people, but instead, it just makes him feel curious.

Sirius takes him out to breakfast that morning at a little cafe down the street. It looks new, the walls freshly painted, and the menus without a single wrinkle, but Sirius orders like he’s been going there for years. The waitress is a blonde woman with sparkling eyes who keeps looking between them like she’s seeing double.

“Pandora, this is my brother, Regulus,” says Sirius. He holds out his hand like he’s presenting Regulus on stage. Regulus wonders if he’ll be expected to sing a song for the curious girl.

“Regulus, what an interesting name,” says Pandora. Her high-pitched voice catches Regulus off guard but not in a bad way. She has the voice of an actress or a skilled narrator, with enough emotion in each word to carry layers of meaning.

Sirius smirks. “Our parents hated us,” he jokes. “Hence the names.”

“I like them.” Pandora adds a satisfied nod to the end of her sentence. It makes Regulus laugh though he doesn’t understand why. “Do you know what you want to order?”

Regulus hasn’t even looked at the menu but he can’t very well send her away when Sirius already ordered. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He uses his thumb to point at Sirius. He can’t even remember what Sirius ordered, but he’s sure it doesn’t matter. He’s not a picky eater anymore, not since he had to live on the street. Even with Barty, his food options were limited. Barty often ate while he was at work and Regulus had to make do. He’d gotten very acquainted with eating cans of beans for days on end and lost his affinity for extravagant foods his parents had tried to breed into him.

“You’ll like it.” Pandora’s expression is knowing. “I make excellent eggs.”

“You cook the food?” asks Regulus. He snaps his mouth shut the moment the words are out of his mouth, wondering if he might be considered rude.

“Oh, yes,” says Pandora. “I’m the only one that works here. Without me, you two would be sitting here for eternity with nothing to show for it.” Pandora pats the table as she talks like someone might pat a dog they were greeting. She’s odd, but in a way that makes Regulus suspect she has a lot more going on in her life and in her mind beyond the basics of running a cafe.

“How did you find this place?” Regulus says once Pandora leaves. “You two seem to know each other well.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Pandora is like us.” Sirius doesn’t sound bitter when he says it which Regulus finds a tad surprising. “Except she was never disowned. She comes from this crazy rich German family and I guess she’s sort of the odd sibling out. She moved to England a few years ago and has been doing random stuff like this ever since.” He gestures to the room around them.

“She opens cafes for fun?”

“Sometimes.” Sirius takes a long sip from his mug, he drinks an excessive amount of black coffee, more than even Regulus who drinks enough to give himself the jitters every single day. “Her last place was a floral shop, but that only lasted for a month. She kept getting sick while trying to handle the flowers and eventually, I think she just gave up and moved on.”

“Huh,” Regulus says thoughtfully. “That sounds like an exciting way to live.”

Sirius nods. “I think it is. Especially for her. She’s easily bored and without all these side projects she would probably go insane and trust me, no one would appreciate that.”

Regulus feels himself laugh though he’s not totally sure what’s so funny about that.

“How did you meet her?”

Sirius opens his mouth to answer but they’re interrupted by Pandora placing down a massive plate of breakfast right in front of each of them. The food is vibrant and it smells amazing, it makes Regulus’s mouth water instantly, and when he takes a bite of it, he groans.

“Wow, this is really good.”

Sirius lets out a sound of agreement. “You should see what she can do with a steak, it’s heavenly.” Sirius chews another bite quickly, when he swallows, he says, “Do you remember meeting Mary at the party?”

Regulus nods.

“Okay, so Mary we met through James who went to Hogwarts with us, but she always like Lily better. Lily and Peter used to date, which was a nightmare, they were both way too awkward to do much of anything, and it took them forever to break up even though it was obvious to literally everyone that they shouldn’t be together. So they break up and Peter is dating this other girl, Sybill. She’s nice but fucking weird. You’ll like her. Meanwhile, Lily goes on this whole ‘I’m finding myself’ journey.”

Sirius raises his voice an octave like he’s imitating Lily, but he doesn’t seem to be mocking her, if anything he looks a little jealous.

“She was gone for over a year and when she comes back, she has not one, but TWO girlfriends.” Sirius holds out two fingers as he says this. “I was like Lily, you can’t have two girlfriends, and Lily was like, don’t be closed-minded, you can’t make the rules for me.”

Regulus huffs a laugh. “So her two girlfriends are…”

“Mary and Pandora. And Mary and Pandora are dating too. They’re like a trio or whatever you call it. I don’t know, I’m happy for them, but I could never.”

“Too jealous?”

“Definitely.” Sirius gives an emphatic nod. “Even the thought of Remus kissing someone else makes me want to burn the flat down.”

Regulus raises one shoulder. “I get it. I don’t think I could ever be in something like that, but I guess it’s good for your friend. Mary and Pandora are both beautiful.”

“Yep,” Sirius says.

“How long have you and Remus been together?”

“Since we were teenagers.” Sirius takes a huge bite of food like he can’t get enough of it. It looks almost painful to chew, but he manages to get it down. “It was messy because neither of us knew how to be good boyfriends. Honestly, I kept thinking it was going to end, but now I think I was just scared it was going to last.”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks right as Pandora comes by to fill up their cups. She’s wearing a different apron than she had been earlier. This one has a tiny cat stitched to the front making it look like a kitten is tagging along with her everywhere she goes.

Sirius shrugs. “Like if I messed up it didn’t matter because it was going to end one way or another, but if it was going to last, that meant I actually had to be careful. It was weird, but things are better now.”

“That’s good,” Regulus says.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to date again?”

Regulus pauses between a bite of food. “I hadn’t thought about it,” he says. It’s not a lie. He really doesn’t know what he wants. He tries to remember what it felt like in the early days of his and Barty’s relationship, but all he can remember is being desperate for some stability in his life. He can’t remember wanting Barty to be his boyfriend, not in those explicit terms.

“You don’t have to decide,” Sirius says. “Ever if you want, but especially right now. I know things are weird for you.”

“Yes, I’m technically homeless, so I probably need to get a more secure living situation before thinking about something like that.”

Sirius’ smile falls faster than Regulus could have imagined. “You’re not homeless, you live with me.”

“I sleep on your couch,” Regulus deadpans, then remembers what they’re talking about, the seriousness of his situation coming back like a fever for a disease that just won’t leave. “Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he adds quickly. “I really do appreciate it.”

Sirius gives him an odd look. “That’s just for now.”

“No, I know,” Regulus’ cheeks heat abruptly. He knows he can’t stay with his brother forever, he’s already carving out too much space for himself.

“We’ll get you a bed eventually,” says Sirius.

“What?” Regulus breathes.

“The couch is just temporary. I need to figure out what Peter plans to do once the lease ends in a month, but then we can make a plan.”

Regulus stares at him for a second and then says, “I’m confused.”

“What are you confused about?”

Regulus glances around like the odd, new cafe would help him answer. “I don’t know,” he settles on.

“Okay, good,” Sirius says, tension releasing from his body like it was never there.

“Okay,” Regulus says quietly. They both take another bite and by the time Sirius is finished chewing, he’s moved on to another topic and their conversation is forgotten for the time being.

After breakfast, Regulus follows Sirius out of the cafe and waits for him to hold the door for a couple heading into the restaurant. He turns toward the direction of Sirius’ flat but Sirius stops him.

“Are we not going back?” Regulus is almost afraid to ask it, but the words slip out anyway.

“I thought we might go shopping.” Sirius looks uncomfortable, he digs his hands into the front pockets of his denim trousers when he speaks.

“Shopping?” Regulus lifts one eyebrow. “Are we teenage girls now?”

Sirius laughs a little. “No, but you don’t really have any clothes. There is no reason all of your stuff should fit in one bag.”

Regulus frowns. “I don’t have the money to buy new clothes,” Regulus says, embarrassed to even admit it. “And anyway, I have plenty.”

“You don’t,” says Sirius. “You don’t have plenty, you need new clothes.” He pulls one hand out of his pocket and waves it around. “Don’t worry about the cash, I’ll cover it.”

That only makes the frown grow. “You don’t have to pay for me,” Regulus says. He doesn’t think he can handle owing anyone else money.

Sirius sighs like he’s had this fight in his head before and he’s already tired of it. “Yes, I do,” he says. “Uncle Alphard left me some money when he died.” Regulus’ mouth drops open. “I would have shared it with you, only I thought you were with the family and you were going to inherit everything anyway. I figured you were set.”

“Ugh, I knew Alphard liked you better.” Regulus knows he sounds like a pouting child, but he can’t help it. The sting of rejection feels worse than he would have expected.

“He just knew I liked to cause problems,” Sirius says as he shakes his head. “He liked you too, he just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“Well, he certainly didn’t leave me any money.”

“I had already been disowned when he died. I’m sure he didn’t think -”

Regulus’ interruption comes quickly, he wants to move on, dwelling on a dead uncle who didn’t like him isn’t going to make anything any better. “It’s fine. You don’t have to share it with me.”

Sirius gives him another odd look. He does that a lot nowadays, he’d been doing it all morning. So had Remus and James. It was as if they knew something he didn’t. Kind of like they could see a piece of Regulus that he was trying to keep hidden, only he didn’t know what was so important he’d need to hide it.

“Is it alright if I share it with you anyway?” asks Sirius.

Regulus thinks about that for a moment, but it’s the soft tone in Sirius’s voice that has him nodding. By the time they make it back to the flat, it’s nearly sunset and Regulus has enough clothes to wear fresh outfits for two weeks without having to launder anything. He’s wearing one of the new outfits when they walk into the flat, Sirius had insisted that he wear it out of the store. Regulus felt a bit embarrassed like a little kid too obsessed with his first-day back-to-school outfit but Sirius was excited so he agreed.

“Moony, my love,” Sirius calls when they enter the flat. Remus is sitting in an old chair in front of the television but the book open on his lap makes it clear he’s not paying attention to anything going on on screen. He looks up when Sirius calls for him and smiles wide enough to make the scars across his nose crinkle.

He stands, abandoning the book on the coffee table, and pulls Sirius in to kiss him. His eyes slide to Regulus a second later.

“Nice outfit,” Remus says. Regulus wants to fold into himself though he’s not sure why. He’s not used to being so visible.

“Thanks,” Regulus says. The flat smells like pasta sauce, garlic and herbs filling the air and making Regulus’ stomach rumble. They hadn’t eaten since that morning though they’d stopped for coffee no less than three times throughout the day.

“I thought we might go out to dinner,” Remus says to Sirius, his voice low like he thinks no one else will hear him. Regulus looks away to give them their privacy. He wonders who’s cooking if it’s not Remus.

“That sounds perfect.” Sirius kisses his boyfriend again. “Let me change.” He sweeps out of the living room and Remus settles back in the chair. Remus hadn’t noticed before, but Remus is dressed much nicer than he usually is. He’s wearing nice black trousers and clean loafers. He’s even wearing a tie.

“So Sirius finally bought you clothes, did he?” Remus asks. Regulus sighs, the bags hanging from his arms are starting to dig into his skin, so he drops them all on the couch with a huff.

“I think he has a shopping addiction.”

Remus chuckles and says, “Probably, but he’s been planning to buy those for a while and he held off for a week, so I consider that progress.”

“He’s ridiculous,” Regulus says, then lowers his voice to a whisper, speaking the truth that he doesn’t want to hear. “I don’t know why he bothers, surely he knows he doesn’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t think he’d agree with that statement,” Remus says with a silky ease. “But you were kind to let him indulge.”

“Kind,” Regulus says thoughtfully. He shakes his head to clear it. “Who is cooking? I figured you were making dinner.” Right as he finishes speaking, the sound of three pots clattering together comes from the kitchen.

“I’ll let you discover that on your own,” Remus says. A second later, before Regulus can ask what Remus means, Sirius comes back into the living room dressed in an expensive black sweater and tight trousers with tears down the front.

“Ready?” Sirius asks. He’s beaming, wearing happiness like an award he’s trying to show off.

“Ready,” Remus says. “Have fun tonight.” He nods to Regulus who doesn’t understand the statement, but in a moment, they’re gone, leaving Regulus and the mystery cooker alone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“James has been cooking for three hours,” Remus says the moment the door is shut. “If you didn’t want him to go overboard, it’s a little too late now.”

“I know, I heard him pacing last night,” Sirius says, but he’s still smiling so he doesn’t seem too bothered. “I just hope Regulus doesn’t freak out. I can’t get a read on him at all. It’s making me crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time I try to ask him anything he gets all squirrelly, it’s impossible to know what he’s really thinking, but I swear he made this face at breakfast like he thought I was about to kick him out or something.” Sirius grabs Remus’ hand tightly like he’s losing track of himself and wants to make sure Remus knows where he is. “Maybe James can make him feel like he belongs.”

“Maybe,” Remus says. He’s not sure. He admits that Regulus is hard to read, but he thinks there is too much leftover fog between the brothers for either of them to feel completely comfortable in each other’s presence. He knows Sirius is trying to clear it, he’s probably trying harder now than he ever did in the past, but Regulus seems comfortable being hidden. It’ll be tough for him to come out of his shell.

“What was James making him?” Sirius asks. They’re walking to dinner tonight because the restaurant they picked to get out of the house at James’ request is only ten or so streets away. It’s not close, they could easily take the bus or drive, but Sirius has always liked walks. Remus thinks they help clear his head.

“Some kind of lasagna I think,” Remus says. “Every single pot was dirty when I went in there earlier. I don’t know how he managed to use so many of them.”

“He’s a messy cook.”

“He’s a messy everything.”

Sirius laughs. “Yeah, he really is.” He’s quiet for a bit, they pass four or five homes before he speaks again. “I think we should give Regulus Peter’s room.”

“Yeah?”

Sirius won’t meet his eyes as he says, “I know it’s his and he always says he’ll use it, but he barely does and he and Sybill seem pretty solid now. It’s kind of shit to make Regulus sleep out in the living room forever. He needs to be somewhere more permanent, you know? He needs his own space.”

Remus agrees, though he doesn’t say so at first. He works through what he thinks Peter will say first. Peter, to no one's surprise, likes Regulus a lot. He’s always liked the weird ones. And Sirius is right, he barely sleeps there. Remus is sure he only does it as often as he does because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone's feelings, but Remus has heard him giggling on the phone with Sybill late into the evening when he sleeps there so he knows he misses his girlfriend. She’s good for him, she fits right into their friend group and brings out a confidence in Peter that Remus hasn’t seen in years.

“Or maybe Regulus and I should move out,” Sirius says. His voice is unsteady like he’s been spiraling while Remus was stuck inside his head. “Just for a little. I know it’s not ideal but I don’t want him to be alone, and you’re right, we can’t just take Peter’s space.”

“I never said that.”

“But you’re thinking it. You think I’m a terrible friend.”

Remus stops, his grip on Sirius’ hand makes him stop as well. “Don’t put words in my mouth,” Remus says. He’s a little stern, his voice just on the easy side of sharp, and he sees the words land on Sirius like a physical blow. Remus pulls him closer, his heart contracting when Sirius goes despite his confused and hurt look. “You’re not terrible and I agree, Regulus shouldn’t be alone. Peter is happier with Sybill, but we’ll ask him regardless. If he says he wants to stay, you and I will figure out what to do then.”

Sirius searches his face then slowly kisses Remus, his lips warm and inviting. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” Remus says. “Come on, let’s go eat dinner and try not to think about James bombing his not-date with Regulus.”

That makes Sirius laugh hard enough to choke on his spit and Remus can’t help but pull him closer, resting his arm on Sirius’ shoulders. Secretly, he doesn’t think James is going to bomb at all. If he’s any good at reading Regulus, he’s sure Regulus is going to love it.

Chapter Text

Regulus already knows that Sirius’s best friend is a bit insane, it’s obvious in the manic way he speaks and his obsessive need to be liked by everyone. He’s even more sure of his insanity when he walks into the kitchen to find James flying around it in a buzz of energy, moving things off and back on the stove like he can’t decide what needs to be warmed, only to turn around and chop a few herbs with a few rapid movements before forgetting about them completely.

“Are you expecting company?” Regulus asks.

James shouts in surprise, nearly dropping the empty cutting board he’s picked up for some reason.

“How long have you been standing there?” James demands.

Regulus gives him a curious, uncertain look. Was he not supposed to be in here? “Just a few seconds,” Regulus says, it almost sounds like a question.

“Oh.” James breathes a sigh of relief, and then he catches sight of himself in the reflection of the microwave, jolting like he forgot he was real. His head snaps back around to look at Regulus, making Regulus jump slightly. “Can you give me ten minutes?”

“Erm, sure, if you’d like,” Regulus says questioningly.

“Perfect,” James says, then spins in a circle. “Let me just…” He can’t seem to get his eyes to settle on anything. He spins again and Regulus wonders if he’s lost his mind. He looks like a dog chasing his tail. Finally, he lands in front of the stove and touches each of the knobs to make sure they’re all off.

“Do you need help?” Regulus asks.

“No!” James shouts. Regulus jumps again. “No, please, just sit down. I’ll be back!”

“Okay,” Regulus says slowly and watches James as he sprints from the room. He’s dressed in a matching set of pajamas but they look old like he’s had them for a few years and his bare feet slap loudly against the floor as he runs. Regulus finds it all bizarre, but he decides to take a seat, like James asked him to, if only to see how it is all going to play out.

He’s never eaten alone with any of Sirius’ friends. He wouldn’t say he was worried about it, he knew he was imposing on their space and he wasn’t expecting them to cater to him, but he also felt a bit insecure about what they must think about him. He does his best not to overthink about it, he can’t control how they see him, although it would be easier if he wasn’t so aware of how pathetic he seemed.

It takes James about ten minutes to make it back to the kitchen, and just in time too because as he rounds the corner, the tiny timer sitting on the counter begins to ring.

“Perfect,” James whispers under his breath. He carefully pulls a large pan out of the oven and places it on top of the stove. It smells heavenly, as the entire kitchen does, and Regulus' stomach rumbles loudly. “Was that you?” James asks.

“Yes,” Regulus says sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I ate.”

James’ face curls up in confusion, but he says, “This just needs to cool for a few minutes. Do you want a beer?”

Regulus doesn’t drink much, not anymore. He had a bad stint with it for a while and when he woke up suffocating under Barty who passed out on top of him, he vowed to never get drunk again. But one beer can’t hurt, he’ll just be careful.

He nods. “Sure.”

James beams like Regulus just delivered excellent news. Regulus doesn’t notice what he is wearing at first, but as he moves across the kitchen to open the fridge, Regulus finally takes him in. He’s wearing a snug pair of trousers and a white button-down shirt that hugs his chest perfectly. It’s honestly a little distracting, Regulus has never been distracted by someone’s body before.

His face turns red when James catches him looking.

He hadn’t meant to make the man uncomfortable. James was nice enough to let him stay here, even though he doesn’t know Regulus and has no reason to be as welcoming as he has been. He’s not Regulus’ brother, nor is he dating Regulus’ brother. He’s practically a stranger, and Regulus doesn’t want to put him off.

“Here,” James says. He doesn’t sound upset when he passes him the beer, placing it in front of Regulus when he fails to grab it in time.

“Thank you,” Regulus says. He doesn’t turn back to look at him until he hears James moving in the other direction. “Who are you making dinner for?”

James laughs, his back muscles moving beneath his shirt as he does. “You,” he says, then he turns, his eyes wide. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you to make dinner?” Regulus asks. Then quietly asks, “Are you not a good cook? I promise I’m not picky.”

James laughs again, but this time nervously. “I think I’m okay,” he says. “I know how to make this, it’s my dad’s recipe.”

“Your dad cooks?” Regulus asks.

James nods, turning back to the cutting board with what looks like basil on top of it. He’s meticulous now as he chops it, his rushed jitters from earlier gone. “My mum hates to cook, but she’s great at it. You can ask Remus, she’s made him tons of meals because she likes him more than she likes me. My dad does most of the cooking so he has the most reliable recipes. My mum is one of those people who refuses to write anything down, all of her recipes are cooked ‘from the heart.’” He lifts his hands to do air quotes as he says the last bit.

Regulus chuckles. “Why doesn’t she like you?” he asks, perhaps a bit bluntly. He feels like he can, his mother doesn’t like him either.

James gives him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

“You said she likes Remus more than you.”

“Oh, I was mostly joking,” James says, a little slowly like he doesn’t understand Regulus’ question. “My mum loves me, of course, she’s my mum, but she loves my friends. She practically adopted Sirius when he left home.” James blanches. “I’m sorry, I mean—”

“It’s okay,” Regulus says quickly, although in a way it really isn’t. “I don’t mind you talking about it.”

James looks uncertain. “It wasn’t easy for him when he left.”

“What do you mean?”

“He missed you. It was hard for him to leave you behind.”

Regulus looks away, he can’t take James and his handsome, soulful eyes. “What did you make for dinner?” he asks. Coward, he thinks.

James clears his throat and it takes him a beat too long to say, “Lasagna, is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Regulus says quickly. “That sounds great.” He tries to be enthusiastic. He can taste the awkwardness in the air between them and he wants it to dissipate. He doesn’t like making others uncomfortable, and if James was nice enough to cook for him, though he’s very unsure why, then he doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Luckily, it seems James’ unbreakable spirit applies even in situations like this, and before Regulus knows it, he’s laughing again at a story James is telling about his first job at a coffee shop.

“I thought I was doing a good job!” he says with a laugh. “Everyone was tipping so well, but I guess they just felt bad for me. I’m not sure I gave anyone a correct drink that entire time. My boss was furious because she kept trying to correct me but I didn’t pick up on that, I thought she was training someone else and she was just including me so I wouldn’t feel left out.”

Regulus is nearly crying with laughter as he asks, “Was there another person there when she was telling you this stuff?”

“No, I was just that sure it couldn’t be my mistake,” James says.

Regulus doubles over in laughter, imagining a clueless fifteen-year-old messing up drinks so endearingly that no one but his boss has the heart to correct him.

“People should not have been tipping me if I was messing up that bad,” James defends. He’s sitting across from Regulus, the food still cooling on the stove. He throws his hands out as he speaks, flailing them in every direction like he’s trying to attack the air. Regulus has to make sure neither of their drinks is within knocking-over distance.

“I’m sure they weren’t thinking about their drinks when they were tipping you,” Regulus says.

James looks genuinely shocked. “Then why were they tipping me?”

Regulus is still laughing, but the laughs die down a bit when he takes James in. Green and brown intertwine in his eyes making him look like he has a forest growing inside of him. He has tan skin and long limbs, plus a face like he’s always been effortlessly attractive even when he was young. Regulus can only shake his head.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Regulus says.

James bursts out laughing. He finally stands once he’s calmed down, and Regulus goes to stand as well, but James stops him. “No, you stay. I’ll grab you a plate.”

“Okay,” Regulus says. He feels his face go red again but he’s not sure why this time.

James is exacting as he plates their food, using the last clean utensil to slice and serve the lasagna he’s made. He tops it with fresh herbs and a bit of grated cheese. Regulus feels like he’s at a very fancy, private restaurant.

When he places the food on the table in front of Regulus, Regulus’ stomach growls again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait so long,” James says. He slides into the seat across from Regulus with an ease that makes Regulus think he used to be an athlete.

“You’re okay,” Regulus says quietly. He waits for James to take a bite because it’s polite, but James doesn’t reach for his fork. He places his hands in front of him, right against the side of the table, and stares at Regulus apprehensively.

Regulus stares back. Mostly because he’s unsure of what else he’s supposed to be doing.

“Are you going to try it?” James asks finally.

“Oh, sure,” Regulus says unsteadily. He grabs his fork and while he’s moving a bite of food to his mouth, he wonders if this is some weird ploy to play a prank on him. He hopes not because he’s pretty sure it would be rude to refuse dinner now after not saying anything for so long. Luckily the food is delicious, the sauce tastes like it’s been cooked for hours and hours before James used it to make his lasagna. It’s rich and layered with flavor. “Oh, fuck.”

James smiles brightly. “Great,” he says and finally takes a bite of his own.

They eat in silence for a little bit. Regulus is much hungrier than he realized and he can’t stop himself from shoveling food into his mouth, no matter how impolite it is. James seems just as enthralled with his food so he doubts it’s that much of an issue. When they finally slow and their plates are half empty, Regulus notices the unusual atmosphere in the flat. There is light music drifting in from the living room and the overhead lights are off leaving only a dim light from each of the lamps. It’s nice, if a little unusual.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Regulus asks.

James is halfway through chewing and his jaw freezes before he can finish chewing and swallow his food. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean it’s nice in here. I figured this would be for someone else.”

“And not for you?”

Regulus knows he doesn’t understand what James is getting at, but he can’t bring himself to ask him to clarify. “No,” he says. “Not really.” No one has ever made dinner for him in this setting, he can’t imagine what would have changed now. James looks almost ashamed, but Regulus can’t understand why. “James, why did you make me dinner?”

James sits back in his chair and rubs the side of his head. “I wanted to,” he says after an awkward silence that felt far too long.

“Why?” Regulus asks.

James shrugs. “I thought maybe we could be… friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, I know you’re already living here and you’re Sirius’s little brother, but I thought the two of us could have a friendship of our own.”

Regulus feels disappointed for a split second, just a quick flash of lightning, but it’s gone before he can examine it. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I think I’d like to be friends.”

James’ mouth opens in surprise like he thought Regulus was going to flat-out reject him. “Okay?”

Regulus nods. “I’ve never had many friends.”

James smiles, but it looks pained. “Well, you have them now!” he says, overly cheerfully. “One, at least.”

That makes Regulus laugh. He goes back to eating and James does the same, only his eyes are sparkling now and Regulus can’t nail down what makes him feel so warm.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Dinner with Sirius doesn’t waste enough time, so after they spend an hour drinking wine over dessert, they end up going out to a bar. It’s been a while since they’ve been out drinking together just the two of them, but it reminds Remus of when they were first starting to date and they would sneak into bars just so none of their friends would see them kiss.

“You’re grinning like an idiot,” Sirius yells over the music. His teeth look especially white under the flashing lights.

“So are you,” Remus yells.

Sirius laughs. “I’m drunk.”

Remus can’t respond, his mouth is busy kissing Sirius as thoroughly as he can. He tastes like expensive wine and cheap liquor, Remus has never tasted anything so delightful. Their tongues tangle together sloppily, the same way their bodies move against one another. Sirius is a skilled dancer, it makes sense given the way he dresses and the general air that always exists around him, but Remus is messy and awkward. He’s too tall, his limbs too long, and he never quite recovered from the harsh growth spurt he had when he was fourteen when he grew over seven inches in just a few months.

He’s sure that he slows Sirius down, making him look less elegant than he really is, but Sirius never complains.

Sirius kisses him back fiercely, and his strong hands dig into Remus’ sides, but Remus has never felt so whole.

They leave still tangled together, their legs constantly knocking each other so they’re nearly stumbling over every few steps. They’re a bit far from the flat now that they’ve gone to the bar, but neither of them think to call a cab. It’s a nice night, a bit chilly but it feels relieving after being inside the hot, muggy bar. They pause now and then to kiss, openly and freely, never like they were as kids.

By the time they make it back to the flat, Remus has fully forgotten why they left in the first place. He feels nothing but confusion when Sirius lifts a finger to his lips and shushes him before he opens the door. He looks like a child about to play a prank and it makes Remus snicker.

The flat is relatively quiet, but there is still a bit of music playing out of the stereo. In the kitchen, James and Regulus are still sitting at the table, both leaning forward like they’re trying to share a secret. Neither of them looks up when Remus and Sirius enter, they don’t seem to notice anything except each other.

“Come on,” Remus whispers. The words are barely audible but Sirius nods like he made them out. They tiptoe through the living room, not once do James or Regulus spot them, and by the time they make it to their bedroom they’re both breathless with laughter.

“I can’t believe they didn’t see us,” gasps Sirius.

“Their date must be going very well,” replies Remus.

Sirius shakes his head though he still laughing a bit. “I thought we’d come back to a blood bath, or one of them crying.”

“You have such little faith in them.”

Sirius only laughs harder. “Can you blame me? Regulus talks like he grew up in a mental institution and James falls in love faster than any of us.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it love,” says Remus. “Infatuation maybe.”

“Well, he’s a mess regardless.”

“That’s true.” Remus swats away Sirius’ wandering hands as he speaks, Sirius had been trying to unbutton his trousers but he was too drunk to do it quick enough.

“Take your clothes off,” pleads Sirius.

“No, you’re drunk.” Remus giggles when Sirius looks disappointed.

“We’ve been together for so long, you’re saying we still can’t shag drunk?”

“I’m not dealing with your whiskey dick.”

Sirius slaps him playfully on the chest, just enough to sting. “I do not get whiskey dick.”

Remus nods and it makes the room spin. “Yeah, you do.” He laughs. “And you know it.”

“I hate you.” Sirius turns away but Remus catches him, pulling him against his chest.

“I’ll shag you first thing in the morning.”

“We both know you’ll be too hungover.”

“Then you can make me breakfast afterward to sort me out.”

Sirius laughs breathlessly and pushes back against him. “Fine, if you make me come in the morning, I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“I am,” Sirius announces.

They crawl into bed after Remus forces both of them to brush their teeth. With the light turned off and the quiet settling around them, he can just barely make out the sound of James and Regulus laughing in the kitchen. Sirius is right, he falls quickly and haphazardly, but he hopes that Regulus likes him, even if he’s not ready for anything more serious.

Chapter Text

After his dinner with James, Regulus starts having dreams about the man.

He’s had dreams about people before, it’s only natural, but never so reliably and never so frequently. It starts to feel like it’s every night as the next two weeks pass. He goes to work, he comes home, he dreams about James Potter. All of the dreams are horrifyingly mundane, just them talking or eating together, sometimes walking through a park Regulus has no memory of.

It wouldn’t be a problem, only every time he wakes up and sees James come out of his bedroom, he feels the hot flush of humiliation touch his cheeks. He can’t pinpoint why, it’s not like he’s having inappropriate dreams or anything, yet he can’t seem to shake the feeling that he shouldn’t tell a single soul that he’s been dreaming about James every single night.

Work gets harder, which makes him more exhausted at the end of the day, but he keeps pushing forward. He gets paid one afternoon and puts away as much of it as he can. It’s still nowhere close to what he owes Barty, but it’s something, and he hopes that eventually he’ll have enough to pay off all of his debt.

He offers some of it to Sirius since he’s not only been living there for free, but also eating breakfast and dinner with them every day without paying. However, Sirius fiercely refuses. And when Regulus tries again, just to be polite, Sirius leaves the room, and Remus quietly tells him that he would be better off just dropping it.

It doesn’t feel good, being indebted to his brother, so he puts a bit of his paycheck away to pay Sirius back eventually, even if it pisses him off.

On the weekend, he spends his time playing video games with Remus and Peter. He was never allowed to play them growing up so he sucks at everything he tries to do, but their endlessly patient with him and by Sunday evening, he’s passable.

The Wednesday of the next week, Sirius tells him about a party on Friday.

“It’s Mary’s birthday, so we’re all going out to a club to celebrate. Or maybe we’ll just stay in at Mary’s place. She loves a good flat party.”

“That’s nice,” Regulus says idly.

Sirius frowns. “You should come.” Regulus cringes slightly. He tries to hide it, but even after all the time apart, Sirius can still read him a little too well. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really know Mary.”

“You’ve met her before.”

“I know, but that was very brief, and I’m not sure that was enough to warrant a birthday party invitation.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at him. He does that a lot when he thinks Regulus is being overly proper. It’s not like Regulus can help it, and honestly, his proper upbringing has been the only thing that’s reliably kept him safe. It’s when he acts out that things go wrong.

“I appreciate the invitation,” says Regulus slowly. “But I think I’ll pass.”

“Fine, whatever,” says Sirius. He only sounds a little annoyed, but it’s enough to put Regulus’ teeth on edge. “You’ll be on your own for dinner then.”

“I can manage.” Regulus gives a small laugh, just so Sirius can tell he’s not overly burdened by this issue. He’s not sure if Sirius believes him.

He gets home late from work that Friday. Slughorn has been a nightmare, he forgot to write down a bunch of dates, and now everything is a little late. He’s been working Regulus to the bone, and he hasn’t been paying him overtime. It’s exhausting, but he tries to just feel grateful that he has a job.

The flat is empty and dark when he arrives, shoving his way through the door. His bag feels impossibly heavy on his shoulder, and when he drops it in the entryway, his skin aches from where the strap was digging into it. He flips on the lights as he moves through the flat, aiming for the kitchen. He’d meant to grab something to eat on the way home, but he was too tired from work to bother, so he’s left to scrounge around for leftovers in the fridge.

He’s half bent over the open fridge when he hears a noise of someone moving around deeper in the flat. He straightens and calls out, “Sirius? Is that you?”

No answer comes, and he assumes he made up the sound. He’s truly beat from the week. He probably just needs some sleep.

He grabs a leftover bowl of soup that Remus made two nights before. It was delicious and light on the stomach, so Regulus hopes it’ll warm him enough to pass out on the couch. He’s just finished placing it in the microwave when he hears the noise again. Sirius said they were all going to the party, no one should be home, but maybe someone decided not to go? Regulus doesn’t know why, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

When another noise comes from one of the bedrooms, he hurries through the house to figure out who it is. It’s probably just Peter or maybe Remus. Maybe they’re just leaving late.

In the hallway, he finds that all the doors are closed, but there is one with light spilling out underneath the door. It’s Sirius and Remus’ bedroom.

“Remus?” calls Regulus. No answer comes, but he hears someone moving around. “Remus?” calls Regulus again, stepping forward to knock lightly on the door. No one answers, and he can’t understand why, but it makes him nervous.

Slowly, he pushes the door open, poking his head inside to see who is there.

“Remus?” says Regulus one final time. He freezes when he catches sight of someone standing in front of Sirius’ chest of drawers. His back is to the door, but Regulus would recognize him anywhere.

“Did you know that your brother keeps pictures of you in his sock drawer?”

“Barty.” The name cuts its way out of Regulus’ throat.

“I didn’t think you’d come to him. I thought you would just be wallowing on the street somewhere.” Barty turns, and the anger on his face is suffocating. Regulus takes a step backward. “It’s kind of pathetic, don’t you think? That you came here even though he’s the one who abandoned you. Does he even want you living here?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I spent days searching for you.” Barty bares his teeth as he speaks, and Regulus nearly stumbles as he takes another step back. “It’s fucking cold outside, Regulus. Don’t you understand that?”

“You shouldn’t have been looking for me.”

“You ran out of the flat, and I didn’t know where you’d gone.” Barty takes a few slow steps forward as he speaks. He’s speaking like he was worried, but the set of his jaw spells out anger in big, bold letters above his head.

“I wanted to get away from you.”

“I was worried, Regulus. You’ve never been good on your own. You could have been hurt.”

“The only one hurting me was you.”

Barty closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. When he opens his eyes again, he looks just as angry, but he is frowning like he feels nothing but sympathy. “I know I upset you, but you shouldn’t have left. I deserve the opportunity to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve a single thing from me.” Regulus wishes his voice wouldn’t shake as he says it. He feels pathetic, strung tight with fear. “How did you even get in here?”

“I looked everywhere.” Barty is only a few steps away now. Two steps if he stretches his legs to their full length. “I tried to remember where you work, but you know how secretive you were about the location. Did you do that on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?”

“How did you get in here?” He asks the question more fiercely this time. His words still shake, but they feel more like an earthquake than a quivering child.

“The front door was open.” Barty speaks like Regulus is an idiot. Maybe he is. He doesn’t have a key yet, Sirius hasn’t gotten around to making one. The door was left open so he could get in.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither of us should.” Barty opens his arms like he’s offering a hug, but his face is mockingly placating. “I’m here to take you home.”

Regulus lies through his teeth. “This is my home.”

Barty looks like he’s going to start laughing soon. “We both know Sirius never wanted you, Reggie.”

“That’s not true.” His voice wont. stop. shaking.

“Just let me apologize, and we can go back home.”

“Fuck you.” The words spit out of him like venom. “You shouldn’t have fucking cheated on me.”

Barty rolls his eyes. “It was nothing. I was just blowing off some steam. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Regulus gasps. “Do you really believe that?”

“Regulus —”

“You’re a self-centered prick.”

The back of Barty’s hand collides with Regulus’ cheek faster than he can blink. He reels back before the pain sets in, but Barty is on him in an instant, slamming Regulus back against the wall and grabbing him tightly by the face, his palm wrapped around Regulus’ jaw. Regulus tries to fight back, but Barty has always been stronger than him. Bigger too.

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Get off me,” pleads Regulus. His words come out muffled, and it makes Barty laugh.

“I missed you, Regulus.”

“I didn’t miss you,” says Regulus foolishly. He knows better than to rile Barty up when he gets like this, but he’s aching from the things Barty said. He’s worried their true, and that pain is far worse than the one blooming on his cheek.

“Yes, you did.” Barty sounds like he believes it, and that’s so much worse than Regulus expected. He turns Regulus around, and he shoves him harshly into the wall with enough force to make Regulus’ teeth clack together loudly.

“No!” begs Regulus as he feels Barty’s searching hand reach for the back of his trousers. Regulus hates this part, it’s always painful. Don’t be such a crybaby. He doesn’t want to hear Barty breathing out those words into his ear while Regulus cries out in pain. He always tries not to, he knows he doesn’t handle pain well, but he can’t help it. The stinging, tearing sensation in his backside is always too overwhelming to ignore, and it lingers for days afterward.

“Stop wiggling like that,” sneers Barty. Regulus is fighting against him with everything he has. His panicked heart is galloping in his chest. He thinks he’s going to be sick.

And then the front door opens, and Barty freezes.

“Regulus?” It’s Peter. Peter’s here. Regulus snaps his head back hard enough to dislodge Barty, and he breathes a sigh of relief when Barty takes the message and steps away. Peter walks over to the hallway a second later. “Regulus, are you here?” He stops short when he spots them.

“Peter.” His voice is still bloody shaking. He digs his nails into his palms to stop his hands from following suit.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to — who are you?” asks Peter.

Barty grins. “I’m Barty, surely Regulus has told you about me.” The fucking gall.

Peter’s eyes slide from Barty’s face to Regulus’ then back. Regulus can’t remember if Peter knows the name of his ex, he’s not sure if he’ll put the clues together.

“Right,” says Peter uncertainly. “Well, I’m here to take Regulus to a party. If you wanted to come?”

“He can’t,” interjects Regulus. “He’s busy.”

“Oh, well —”

“I just need a second to change.” Going to a birthday party for someone he barely knows doesn’t seem so bad now. “Barty, you know your way out.”

Barty shoots him a hateful look, but he replaces it with a smile quickly enough. “I’ll come back later,” promises Barty. “We still have a lot to talk about.”

Regulus nods because he knows. He knows he’s not going to get out of this that easily. He’s known that from the start. Plus, Barty’s words about Sirius not wanting him here still feel too raw for Regulus to say much of anything.

Barty leaves quickly, and Peter waits for a long moment before speaking. “Are you okay? You look like you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” says Regulus. “Do you think Sirius would give me a key tomorrow if I asked?”

“You still don’t have one?”

Regulus shakes his head. “Sirius forgot last time I asked.”

“Here, you can have mine.”

“No, that’s okay,” denies Regulus.

“No, really,” says Peter. “I barely use it, and you need it more. I can ask for a copy later.” He pulls the front door key off his key ring and places it in Regulus’ shaking hand. It’s not enough to calm his racing heart, but he hopes the locked door will make him feel less terrified later. “Do you still want to go to the party? Sirius said you might change your mind.”

“Yeah,” says Regulus. “Yeah, a party sounds good.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius and James are properly drunk by the time Peter arrives with Regulus, so neither of them notices that anything is wrong. Peter’s eyes are wide with uncertainty, though so Remus knows that something is up. He can feel it instantly.

Peter opens his mouth to say something, but Remus beats him to it.

“Talk in the kitchen?” asks Remus.

Peter nods quickly.

Regulus is dragged away by Sirius, and he’s yelling loudly about introducing him to all of their friends. Regulus’ eyes look glazed over as he smiles and allows himself to be manhandled by Sirius. James goes with them, staring at Regulus like he can’t believe he’s there.

It was Peter’s idea to bring him here. Sirius had said that Regulus didn’t want to come, but then he was moping a bit when the party started, so Peter snuck out to bring Regulus to them. Remus wonders if Peter regrets offering.

“What was Regulus’ ex’s name?” asks Peter the moment they’re alone.

It’s not the question Remus expects, so it takes a moment to jog his memory. “Barry, I think.” He can’t quite remember.

“Could it be Barty?” asks Peter.

“Oh, yes, Barty. Why?”

“He was in the flat.”

Remus pauses. “Why?”

“I don’t know!”

“Did Regulus invite him?”

“I really don’t know,” says Peter harshly. “They didn’t look like they were exactly getting along when I arrived.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter looks away. His face is red like he’s embarrassed, but Remus thinks it might be something closer to irritation. “I don’t know, but Regulus was shaking like a leaf when I interrupted them.”

Remus tries to imagine it, but he struggles to picture Barty when he’s never met him. “Is he okay?”

“He says he’s fine, but I don’t know if I should tell Sirius.”

Remus nods in understanding. “Good point. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

He’s not sure what Peter was keeping to himself, but Remus is sure he knows more than he’s saying. Especially because the moment they finish speaking, Peter proceeds to get so drunk that he can barely stand. He’s half leaning on a table while he attempts to dance with his girlfriend. Sirius is pretty drunk too, but he’s usually better at hiding it. Currently, he is standing shirtless on the table Peter is leaning on. He’s singing loud enough to be heard over the blaring music. Mary, Pandora, and Lily are all pretending to throw money at him, and he’s eating it up, as far as Remus can tell.

James is in the middle of talking to Regulus about something, they’re on the other side of the room, so Remus can’t hear either of them, but Regulus laughs up until the moment James places a hand on his arm. Regulus’ smile falters, just slightly, and within a few minutes, he’s excusing himself and stepping out onto the balcony. James watches him go with hazy, drunk eyes.

Remus waits to see if James is going to join him, but when he slides sideways and ends up tumbling into a chair, Remus moves. He peeks through the window before opening the door.

Regulus is sitting in one of the two chairs, his hands pinned between his thighs, and his back curved forward. Remus searches around in his pockets until he finds the spliff he rolled earlier that day. It’s as good an excuse as any.

“Mind if I join you?” He keeps his voice light, but Regulus’ head snaps up anyway. For a second, Regulus’ fear is unnervingly present on his face, but then it’s gone, replaced by a vacancy that reminds Remus of Sirius when he was at his sickest.

“No, that’s fine. I can go back in if you want to be alone.”

Remus shakes his head. “No, it’s cool. Just wanted to smoke this.” He holds out the spliff.

“What’s that?”

“A spliff, do you want some?”

Regulus looks uncertain, and Remus is sure he’s going to refuse, but then he nods.

“Have you smoked before?”

“Only a few times,” confesses Regulus. “It’s been a while.”

“No worries,” says Remus. He lights the spliff and then hands it to Regulus, who accepts it with trembling fingers. Remus is careful not to mention them. He’s not out here to interrogate Regulus. He’s just worried, the same way Sirius would be if he were sober enough to notice. Sirius would beat himself up for days if he knew Regulus was struggling and he didn’t have anyone to check in on him.

Regulus coughs harshly after he takes a pull, but after a second, he starts to laugh. “That’s strong.”

Remus laughs too. “Sorry.”

The silence between them is comfortable. Remus almost regrets breaking it, but he can’t stand the curiosity, and as much as he believes that Regulus owes him no explanation, he needs to ask, if only for his own sanity.

“Did your ex come by today?”

Regulus releases a breath. “Peter told you?”

Remus nods once. “He didn’t know who he was.”

“He’s an arse.” Regulus rolls his eyes as he says it.

“Peter said,” Remus pauses, unsure of how to phrase it. “He said you seemed upset.”

“He cheated on me,” says Regulus, his words argumentative like he’s trying to convince them both of something. “I hate him.”

Remus waits for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, he says, “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Regulus shakes his head, he’s curling into himself again. “I don’t know,” confesses Regulus. “Sometimes it feels like a relief having a real reason to break up with him.”

That strikes Remus as odd, but he’s not sure how to ask about it.

“Did he come looking for you?”

“He wants me back,” says Regulus with an eye roll. “He came to apologize, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I don’t care what he has to say.” His voice shakes on only one word. Care.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but did you invite him over?”

Regulus’ jaw tenses. He won’t look at Remus. “He figured out that I’d gone to Sirius. I don’t know how he found your place.”

“Oh,” says Remus. That doesn’t sound good, he thinks. “So he just showed up.”

Regulus nods once.

“Are you worried about him?”

Regulus doesn’t move for a moment, as if he’s too shocked, but then he shakes his head. “I wish he didn’t know where I was living, but I can handle him. If — if Sirius doesn’t want him coming to the flat looking for me, I don’t mind moving out.”

“Don’t let Sirius hear you say that, please.”

Regulus gives him a keen look that is only slightly ruined by his red eyes. “You both treat me with kid gloves.”

Remus’ eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes earnestly. “Sirius has just missed you a lot, I think, and frankly, if it makes Sirius happy to have you living with us, then I’m pretty invested in keeping you around.”

Regulus smirks. “High praise.”

“I don’t mind having you around either,” adds Remus. “Just so you know.”

Regulus’ smirk turns into a real smile. “Thanks, Remus,” says Regulus. His voice was disturbingly quiet.

Chapter Text

Regulus moves into Peter’s bedroom three days after Barty breaks into the flat. The wound on his cheek didn’t visibly bruise, thankfully, but it still hurt. He ignores it because he has his own bedroom. He hasn’t had his own bedroom since he lived at home with his parents. He’d felt so safe in that room, right up until the point he was thrown out of it.

It’s emptier in Peter’s room than it was back at home, especially once Peter moves all of his stuff out, but he leaves the mattress and a small bedside table, so it’s enough.

Regulus at least gets to feel grateful for the lock on the door. He won’t be woken up by people barging into the living room in the middle of the night anymore. He has privacy, and it feels good.

Good enough that when James asks him out two weeks later, he surprises himself by saying yes. He hadn’t seen it coming, but perhaps he should have.

“Before I ask this, I want you to know that it’s totally okay if you say no. It’s not going to change anything.”

“Oh, okay,” whispers Regulus because he’s truly not sure what to expect. He wonders briefly if James is going to ask him to move back into the living room or something. Maybe Peter wants his room back, although Regulus is a bit unwilling to give it to him now.

“I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, if you want.” The words are a tad rushed, and Regulus struggles to catch them as they dance out of James’s mouth.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, as friends.”

Regulus feels disappointed that he wasn’t expecting bloom in his chest. “Oh. Sure, if you’d like.”

James looks pained. He shakes his head. “I want us to be friends.”

Regulus laughs softly, mostly out of awkwardness. “I’m not going to lie, I kind of thought we already were.”

“No, we are!” says James far too loudly. “I just thought maybe we could go on a date, but I’m also completely fine being only friends.”

Regulus stares at him, confused.

“I’m doing this wrong.”

“I’m not sure what you’re doing at all,” confesses Regulus.

“Well, I was stupidly trying to ask you out on a date. I know you probably don’t want to, which is fine by the way —”

“A date?” asks Regulus. His thoughts float high above his body as he takes in the nervous way James bites his lip. It’s distracting in a nice way, Regulus wants to lavish his tongue against James’ mouth.

“Right, you don’t want to. Well, I’d like to go to dinner as friends. I like spending time with you.”

“I want to,” interrupts Regulus. He’s sure James is about to start rambling, which he does more than he probably realizes. Regulus likes it, he’s never been all that talkative himself, and he likes that James can fill the space when Regulus doesn’t feel up for it. Foolishly, he just enjoys listening to James talk.

“You what?” James’ eyes are wide enough that they look magnified behind his glasses. It makes Regulus laugh a tiny bit. It sounds nervous, even to his own ears, but he decides to breeze past it.

“I would like to go on a date with you,” says Regulus. After a quick breath, he adds, “I’ve never been on a proper date.”

“But I thought you lived with your ex-boyfriend?” asks James, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, but Barty wasn’t the date type. Unless you count drinking at the bar he works at, which I don’t think applies.”

“Definitely not,” says James. “That’s awful, though. Everyone deserves to go on a few dates.”

Regulus shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say, mostly because he’s not sure what ‘deserve’ has to do with any of it. If he were asked, with a knife to his throat, if he deserved to go on dates, he would say no. He’s not sure he deserves much of anything.

“He sounds like an arse,” snarks James. It startles a laugh out of Regulus. James looks mildly embarrassed as if he hadn’t meant to lay out the judgment in such stern terms, but Regulus can’t help but feel charmed by it. He’s never heard someone say something bad about Barty, not explicitly like that. When their relationship was first forming, he’d thought Barty was a bit of an arse as well, but he’d eventually come to the conclusion that it was his fault. That he was the odd one out. Everyone else seemed to like Barty just fine.

It was a relief that James didn’t seem to like him, even if the two had never met.

“Yeah, he was kind of an arse,” says Regulus. James gives him a pleased smile. “So what were you thinking? For our date?”

James grins, he’s very handsome when he smiles like that. Regulus feels like he has trouble blinking when he sees James smile. It makes him feel starstruck or like he’s trying to stare at the sun without any eye protection. Sometimes he tries to look away, to protect himself, but he can’t do that either. He can only stare in awe.

“Do you like films?”

Regulus smiles. “Yeah, of course. I mean, I’ve only ever watched them at home, but I used to own a bunch so I could watch them.”

“Oh, yeah? What was your favorite?”

Regulus felt his cheeks heat. “You tell me first,” says Regulus.

James’ grin turns sideways. “That bad?”

“Barty used to say I had the same film taste as a twelve-year-old girl,” says Regulus.

James laughs loudly, placing a jovial hand on Regulus’ shoulder. Sometimes, when Barty would touch him, Regulus would feel the bizarre urge to brush his hands off. It was like ants were crawling all over him, and the only way to get them to stop was to make Barty let him go. He expects that same feeling now, but it doesn’t come.

“A twelve-year-old girl, huh? So Pride and Prejudice?” asks James. He’s making fun of Regulus, but it doesn’t feel mean like it did with Barty. It just makes Regulus laugh.

“No, I hate that movie.”

James gasps. “You hate Pride and Prejudice?”

“And the book. It’s so boring, I don’t know why people like it. Also, Mr. Darcy is annoying.”

“Wow,” says James, mock surprise written all over his face. “So what twelve-year-old girl films do you like?”

Regulus shrugs delicately. “I don’t know. I like Labyrinth a lot.”

“That really is a movie for a little girl.”

“Fuck off,” says Regulus, pushing James lightly against the arm and purposefully ignoring the way James’ shoulder feels under his shirt.

James laughs. “I like Labyrinth too.”

Regulus, for some silly reason, can’t seem to stop smiling.

They don’t end up going to see a film. They have every intention of going, but then they end up walking right past the theater, the backs of their hands brushing every time they take a step. They walk for a long time, and James keeps asking Regulus questions until Regulus’ throat is sore from talking.

He tells him about what Sirius was like growing up, and about his old room, and about his old friends whom he hasn’t spoken to in years. They don’t talk about Barty or about Regulus’ homelessness or about Regulus being kicked out by his parents.

“Do you like your job?” asks James. They’d stopped to pick up sandwiches at some point, but they hate them in the park, and now they’re back to walking. It’s well past sunset, but the park is well lit, and Regulus has never felt safer. He doesn’t expect James to ask about his job, he never talks about it with anyone, but he finds himself answering before he can overthink it.

“No, it’s terrible. Slughorn treats me like I’m barely human and the pay is shit. Sometimes I think I’d be better off waiting tables than working for him, only I’ve never been very good with customers, and at least I don’t have to speak to anyone at Slughorn’s place.”

“Why don’t you work somewhere else?”

Regulus shrugs, and it makes their hands brush again. Regulus has been ignoring it, pretending like he doesn’t notice, and James seems to be doing the same, only this time he doesn’t ignore it. He reaches out and plucks Regulus' hand out of the air like a kid snatching candy from a store. It makes Regulus lose his train of thought, but James squeezes his hand lightly, encouraging him to go on.

“I’m not sure how to find another job. I was unemployed for so long before I found this one. I’m not sure I’m all that good as an employee. Slughorn says I’m terrible. Unteachable. Whatever. It’s just hard.”

James frowns, and Regulus hurries to correct himself.

“But it could be worse,” says Regulus. “I really don’t mind. What about your job?”

“It was weird at first, working for my dad, but I like it now. It pays well and it’s given Sirius and me a lot of time to save up for the store.”

“The store?” asks Regulus.

“Sirius didn’t tell you about this?” shouts James.

Regulus laughs softly. He enjoys the feeling of James’ palm against his. “No, he didn’t tell me.”

“Since we were teenagers, we’ve been planning to open a record shop. Like an old school one. We’ve been trying to save enough so we could use it for the business loan.”

“Wow,” breathes Regulus. “That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah!” agrees James. “It was really Sirius’ idea more than mine, but we’ve talked about it for so long that it feels like it belongs to me too. He used to sneak out of his house when his parents were being awful and go down the street to this old record shop.”

“The Hog’s Head,” supplies Regulus.

James gives him a shocked look before he looks ashamed. “Oh, right,” says James. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Regulus with an uncomfortable laugh. “He took me there a few times, but I’m pretty sure he was trying to flirt with the man who ran the till, and I was getting in the way.”

James rolls his eyes. “I forgot about that,” says James. “He talked about that guy for weeks, and he kept going on and on about how he wanted to be friends with him. Genuinely, the closet was glass. I don’t know how any of us didn’t notice.”

“I’m sure Remus noticed.”

James chuckles. “You’re probably right. I do remember him making snide comments about that guy. He’d never even met him, but he was sure that he was a terrible person.”

“Sounds about right,” says Regulus with a laugh, a real one this time. “Now that you mention it, it makes a lot of sense that he wants to open up a record shop of his own. I think he felt safe there, especially when our parents weren’t treating him well.”

James frowns, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Does it bother you to talk about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your parents, and your brother when he was that age.”

“Because he left me behind?”

James makes an affronted face, but he doesn’t argue.

“I don’t mind talking about it,” says Regulus, hurrying out the words so James cannot interrupt. “I prefer to look at it honestly, and it’s easier now that it’s been a few years.”

James looks thoughtful, but he doesn’t say anything, not for a bit. When he starts talking again, it’s about something completely different, and Regulus, despite his previous statement, is grateful for the shift in subjects. They talk about what James does for his father (it sounds like accounting, but Regulus doesn’t understand the business well enough to say that for certain), and then they talk about all of James’ friends.

Regulus met more than a few of them at Mary’s party, but that night was such a blur that he can barely remember any of their names. He nods along when James mentions one of them and says, “You met them the other night.” He doesn’t clarify that he couldn’t name them with a gun to his head.

Besides, it’s nice to hear about all the people Sirius has filled his life with. James speaks about them only as they pertain to him, but Regulus can hear Sirius in every story, even if James doesn’t mention him. He thinks, briefly, about how odd it is that he’s walking through a park late into the evening with his hand clasped in James’. He thinks about his younger self and what he would think if he could see him now.

He’s surprisingly warmed by the thought.

When they get back to the flat, it’s after midnight, but Regulus is barely tired. His body feels light and airy like he’s walking on clouds. They pause at the front door, almost like James is dropping him off at home after a real date. It’s almost like they don’t already live together.

“I had fun tonight,” says James. He almost sounds embarrassed. It makes Regulus smile.

“Me too,” responds Regulus.

James smiles, but his cheek is twitching like he’s nervous.

“What is it?” asks Regulus.

“I really want to kiss you,” says James.

“Oh.” Regulus isn’t sure how to respond, but he thinks that might have been the wrong way because James looks abruptly disappointed, though he quickly tries to cover it. Regulus rushes to say, “You can kiss me.” James’ mouth drops open a little. “If you want.”

“Okay,” says James, but he doesn’t move. Regulus doesn’t move either. He’s not sure how to handle a situation like this. Barty never asked to kiss him. Barty never asked for anything. Regulus waits as patiently as he can, a few long seconds ticking by, but eventually James moves.

His lips are warm and soft. They’re impossibly gentle, so gentle that Regulus feels like he can fall forward into them. James places one of his hands on Regulus’ shoulder and the other on his hip, it’s the most he’s been touched since Barty shoved him up against the wall. The memory makes him tense slightly, his muscles seizing as his mind replays what comes after kissing, the pain, and the struggling.

He wants it to stop, he doesn’t want James to think he’s a coward, but James notices anyway. He pulls away like he’s not tugging on every tight string attached to Regulus’ heart and gives him an awkward smile.

“Sorry,” says James.

“My fault.” Regulus clears his throat. He wants to lean back in to kiss him again, but he doesn’t. James is already stepping backward and giving Regulus space he doesn’t want. He swallows harshly and nods once. “I should probably get to bed.”

“Yeah,” whispers James. “Me too.”

Regulus tries to smile, but mostly he just flees, back to his bedroom.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus is halfway to sleep when Sirius wakes him with a few hissed words. “They just got back, and it’s after midnight.”

“What?” mumbles Remus, sleep already evading him. He wants to be frustrated, but he opens his eyes to see Sirius lying on top of him, and that makes things easier.

“What do you think they were doing?”

“I’m sure they were shagging right outside on the pavement,” mutters Remus. He means it as a joke, but Sirius’ face twists with anger.

“What?” hisses Sirius. He’s trying to keep his voice down so no one else can hear them, but it makes him sound like an angry snake, and it sets Remus’ teeth on edge. He’s tired. He’s barely slept all week. It happens sometimes with him. His legs start hurting, and then his back starts hurting, and then eventually his entire body aches, and he feels like he can’t function at all. It makes sleep nearly impossible, and today is the first day the pain has started to abate.

So he’s grumpy, and Sirius always seems to overreact to that.

“What is your problem?” The words are louder than a hiss this time, but not by much.

Remus groans. “You told James you were fine with this, you can’t freak out about it now. Please just let me sleep.”

Sirius’ face turns pink, it’s not full red, not complete anger, but just enough to tell Remus he shouldn’t have said that. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” says Sirius darkly.

“When have I ever not been on your side?” asks Remus. He can’t bring himself to whisper, and Sirius looks like he’s seconds away from slapping a hand over Remus’ mouth to keep him from speaking too loudly. “And you already told James this was okay,” repeats Remus.

Something twists on Sirius’ face. “What if Regulus isn’t ready for this? What if it blows up in their faces and we’re left to pick up the pieces? Am I expected to choose between them?”

“No one is going to ask you to do that.”

“You never knew Regulus when he was young. What if he turns on James like he turned on me?”

“He was a child,” says Remus. It’s meant to be a gentle reminder, but it comes out sharp with exhaustion. Sirius flinches. “You told me that yourself, even before he showed up on our doorstep. He was being manipulated by your parents.”

“You’re not taking my concerns seriously.”

“Because they’re not important,” says Remus. He means to say that they’re not likely to come true, that their irrelevant because it's obvious that Regulus is sickeningly charmed by James and James respects Regulus enough to take things slow even though he’s never mastered the skill of patience. Remus thinks it's going to work out, and he believes that even if it doesn’t, Regulus and James will find a way to stay cordial at least for Sirius’ sake.

Sirius doesn’t hear that because Remus is too tired to explain it and a bit irritated that Sirius can’t just let this go.

Sirius gives him an unhappy look, and then he climbs off of Remus (both a relief and torture), turns over, and shuts the light off without saying a single word. Remus sighs, knows he’ll need to fix things tomorrow, and decides to let Sirius go to bed angry because he can’t get into it now.

Chapter Text

When Regulus leaves his bedroom the next morning, it’s obvious that Sirius and Remus have had some sort of argument. They’re not snapping at each other or being cruel, but they’re moving like opposing magnets, one of them steps too close and the other one steps away. The silence between them makes the rest of the flat feel uninhabitable. For Regulus specifically, it makes him feel tense.

He doesn’t think Remus or Sirius are the type of men to hit and punch and slap when they get angry. Even when he was a little kid, Sirius was never like that, but then again, it’s been a long time since Regulus knew Sirius well, and every time they move away from each other, he hears the sound of Barty backhanding him in the face.

James is only making the situation worse. He keeps giving Regulus these kind, empty smiles that make Regulus feel like shit. He knows he screwed things up the night before when he tensed, he knows he should have forced himself to relax, but he was caught off guard.

If he gets another chance, he’ll be sure to play it right.

However, he worries he won’t get another chance, especially with overly polite James is being. It’s like he’s letting him down easy.

By lunchtime, he can’t take it anymore. He leaves the flat and disappears into the streets of London for a few hours, walking aimlessly until his feet are aching and his thoughts are blessedly silent. His mother always said he would think himself to death one day, he’s sure she was right. Once the spiraling thoughts start, they never seem to end.

He gets back to find the flat filled with music. Remus is sitting on the couch, a cup of tea resting on his knee and a book held open in front of his face. His eyes don’t appear to be moving, and Regulus wonders if he’s actually reading.

“Hey,” greets Regulus, kicking off his shoes and joining Remus in the living room, curling up in the one overstuffed chair.

It takes Remus a long time to look up as if his brain isn’t ready to take in any questions. “Hi, Regulus,” says Remus. His voice is distant and airy. “Where did you go?”

“Just for a walk,” says Regulus.

Remus’s eyebrows lift. “Long walk.”

“I know,” admits Regulus. “I had to clear my head. Where are Sirius and James?” He feels embarrassed asking, as if Remus is going to see right through him, but he also doesn’t want to talk about his stress walk.

Remus scoffs under his breath, turning back to his book. “They went out.”

“Oh,” says Regulus. Remus sounds annoyed, and Regulus has never enjoyed the feeling of someone being annoyed around him. “Well, I guess I’ll go to my room.”

“Sure,” says Remus. When Regulus is almost out of the room, he says, “Hey, do you want to smoke?”

Regulus pauses, then nods. “Yeah, okay,” says Regulus.

Regulus is not used to smoking weed. He did it that once with Remus at that party for Mary, and Barty had asked him to smoke with him a handful of times, but Regulus still feels unsteady when his thoughts get slow and disconnected. Time starts to feel unreal as he hangs his head over the arm of the chair, his hair dangling toward the floor.

Remus laughs. “How often do you get high?”

“Almost never,” confesses Regulus with a giggle. He feels stupid, but for once, he’s not worried about it. Remus, he realizes, is a very comforting person. Despite his fears earlier in the day, he doesn’t worry that Remus could hurt him, or really hurt anyone.

“Did you used to think I could hurt someone?” asks Remus.

“What?” says Regulus. It comes out like a squeak. “Did I say all of that out loud?”

Remus laughs, but it doesn’t sound as light as before. “Yes,” says Remus. “Did you not mean to?”

“No, that was supposed to be an inside thought,” mumbles Regulus. “I apologize.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” says Remus. “What made you change your mind?”

“About what?”

“About me being violent.” Remus laughs as he says it, but Regulus thinks he might be on edge. He thinks he’s missing something because of the weed.

Regulus tries to shrug, but he can’t move his shoulders in the position he’s lying. “You’re always nice to me and you don’t make me nervous even though you’re freakishly tall.” He wishes he could stop talking, but his voice keeps spilling out. “You’re patient with Sirius even though he’s annoying.”

Remus lets out a real laugh then, it’s completely unrestricted, and it makes Regulus’s chest loosen.

“He can be kind of annoying,” admits Remus. “But you get used to it.”

“I miss it,” says Regulus. “Is that weird? I think he’s being too nice to me, like he forgets I’m his brother and thinks of me as some charity case instead.”

“He just worries.”

“I know,” says Regulus. “I get why, I just miss feeling like we could be normal. It’s been such a long time.”

Remus hums, then asks, “What about James?”

“What about him?”

“Do you feel comfortable around him?”

“Yeah,” says Regulus, but then he frowns. “Not that it matters.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?” asks Remus curiously.

“Pretty sure I messed that all up.” Regulus feels like he’s pouting.

“How?”

Regulus sighs. He’d just gotten his brain to stop spiraling about this, he’s not sure he wants to talk about it again, but then he’s answering, as if Remus has cast some sort of spell on him. “He kissed me,” says Regulus. “Which I think is normal for a date, but I wasn’t expecting it, so I didn’t have time to prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought maybe we’d,” he clears his throat, “do other stuff, but I wasn’t ready for the pain, and my body just freaked out. James probably thinks I’m crazy now, or I don’t know.” He’s rambling, but he can’t seem to get his thoughts in the right order.

“I’m confused,” says Remus.

“So he asked to kiss me, and I said yes, and it was going great, but then I panicked and he pulled away, and now he’ll barely talk to me.”

“Barely talk to you?” mumbles Remus.

“I don’t know, it’s confusing. I think if I were more prepared, it would have been fine.”

“Right,” says Remus slowly. “I think I see what you mean.”

Regulus nods, satisfied, but then Remus continues.

“What did you mean about pain?”

“Hm?” asks Regulus.

“You said you weren’t ready for the pain,” says Remus. “Did you mean like if the two of you break up?”

Regulus laughs uncomfortably, his face growing red and not just because he is still hanging upside down. “I’m assuming that you and my brother have sex,” says Regulus, though he wishes he didn’t. He doesn’t need that image in his head.

Remus makes a surprised noise. “Yes, of course,” says Remus.

“Then you already know,” says Regulus. “Unless Sirius is better at hiding it.”

He hears Remus sit up slightly. “Better at hiding what?” asks Remus. He sounds alarmed, which makes Regulus feel nervous. He stays in the position, he’s learned better than to curl in on himself when he’s afraid.

Regulus groans slightly, laughing like he’s not severely uncomfortable. “Please don’t make me say it out loud,” begs Regulus jokingly.

Remus is quiet for a moment, then says, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you think I’m hurting Sirius?”

“No,” says Regulus quickly. “I’m sure he’s better at dealing with it.”

“Dealing with what?”

“The pain,” says Regulus.

Remus makes a confused noise. “Other than that first time, Sirius has never been in pain with me,” says Remus. “I’ve made sure of it.”

Regulus does look at him then. “What? Never?”

“Of course not. You think I would want to,” he makes an odd hand gesture, “while Sirius is hurting?”

Regulus’ eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know,” says Regulus. “I thought pain was just part of it. It always hurts for me.”

Remus looks concerned. “How often did you…”

Regulus has to avert his eyes again to answer. He shouldn’t be talking about his sex life with his brother’s boyfriend, he doesn’t know a lot, but he knows that’s distinctly weird. “Maybe once a day,” says Regulus.

“Once a day.” Remus sounds incredulous. “And you were in pain every single time?”

“I mean, yeah,” says Regulus with another failed shrug. “But it wasn’t that bad. As long as I’m prepared for it, I can handle it.”

“Did your ex know you were in pain?”

Regulus laughs because it feels like a sarcastic question, but when Remus doesn’t laugh, he feels the creeping suspicion he’s said something wrong. He thinks he should change the subject, but the weed works like truth serum, and before he can think, he’s answering.

“Well, he preferred that I don’t cry out or anything, but sometimes it was unavoidable. I tried not to, obviously. I’m not a little kid. I can take some pain. But yeah, Barty liked it better if I stayed quiet. Please don’t tell Sirius any of this.” He doesn’t want Sirius to think he’s weak.

Remus is deathly silent, then he says, “Did you want to have sex with him?”

Regulus hasn’t ever really thought about it, so he replies, “He was my boyfriend.”

Remus doesn’t respond, and slowly, every muscle in Regulus’ body begins to tense. He’d said something wrong, overshared maybe, but he didn’t know how to fix it. As if Remus could sense that Regulus needed a lifeline, he suddenly said, “Are you hungry?”

Regulus gasped. “Starved,” says Regulus. Remus chuckles.

“Come on, let’s go get food.”

They end up at an old pizza place, it looks like it hasn’t had a good deep cleaning in years, but the food is great, and by the time they get back to the flat, he’s completely forgotten about their conversation. Sirius and James are back as well, playing video games on the couch. Regulus greets them, sitting back onto the chair he was sitting in earlier, and watches them idly until he’s tired enough to sleep.

It doesn’t take long. He feels warm and safe and exceptionally well-fed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius doesn’t speak to him while he’s playing games with James, but Remus doesn’t mind. He showers until his skin is bright pink and rubbed raw, and by the time he’s out, Sirius is already in bed, his back to the door. Remus feels like a newborn, agitated by the day, the conversation with Regulus still loud in his thoughts.

He pulls on a set of pajamas, gets into bed with Sirius, and immediately curls up behind him, his arm wrapped tightly around Sirius’ middle.

“Don’t cuddle me, I’m mad at you,” pouts Sirius. It’s the voice he uses after they’ve had a fight when he’s not mad anymore, but he still wants to act mad. Remus might have indulged him if he had the energy.

“I love you, Sirius,” says Remus. Sirius turns, Remus letting him go just enough for Sirius to look at his face.

“Are you okay?”

Remus’ throat feels too tight to speak. He nods tiredly and pulls Sirius back in.

He can’t talk about it.

He holds Sirius as closely as he can, he kisses his shoulders, and he vows never to hurt him.

Chapter Text

The Monday after Regulus’s date with James, Slughorn’s office is raided. Regulus doesn’t see it coming at all. He arrives at work two minutes late because of the bus schedule. He’s dead tired because he didn’t sleep all that well the night before, and he’s already dreaming about getting home to his bed. He hasn’t worked late in a week, and he didn’t work over the weekend, he’s been trying to give himself a break, but all it does is make him feel more exhausted.

He sets his backpack on his desk and ignores Slughorn’s glare. Of course, the one day he’s late is the one day Slughorn is actually on time.

They work for all of three minutes, just enough time for Regulus to find the paperwork he was working with on Friday afternoon, before a loud banging comes from the door. They never get clients here. Slughorn always goes out to meet clients, and Regulus has never been invited to any of those meetings.

He’s vaguely curious about what clients would come out of their way to visit them here in the basement when the door flies off its hinges. It was almost off its hinges anyway after being broken a year before when Slughorn slammed it open, but the person kicking it now takes it the rest of the way off. He doubts they even meant to open it that hard.

Regulus jumps violently regardless, pushing away from his desk and aiming to hide behind it, but he’s stopped by six police officers and two men in expensive suits entering the office.

It’s a long day from there. He’s arrested alongside Slughorn and forcibly taken to the police station. It’s his worst-case scenario, and he hadn’t even known he needed to worry about it. He sits in an otherwise empty cell, shaking for hours, waiting for something to happen, and is eventually brought into a room where the men in suits ask him questions about Slughorn and his business that Regulus doesn’t understand.

“Did you know what you were working on?”

“Only vaguely. I’m not a barrister.”

“Did you ever meet any of his clients?”

“No.”

“Did he ever take you on any of his trips out of the country?”

“No.”

“Did you ever live with him?”

“No, why would I—”

“Yes or no is fine. Did he ever pay for you to stay in a hotel?”

“No.”

“Did he ever buy you clothes?”

“No.”

“Did he ever ask you to perform illegal acts?”

“He asked me to work more than he was paying me, does that count?”

“Did you agree to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he said he would fire me if I didn’t.”

They then brought out fourteen different boxes full of files and went through every single one, asking whether Regulus worked on them. He worked on about half of them, but it was mostly filling out information from other paperwork he was given or entering that paperwork into a computer.

“So you were a barrister’s clerk?

“Yes.”

“And you never made any legal decisions about any of these files.”

“No, I don’t even know—”

“Yes or no is fine.”

It goes on like that for a long time. He asks for water, but they only bring him a tiny cup full of it, and he can’t bring himself to ask for more. He thinks they’re going to put him back in his cell, especially when he starts to nod off, but when it’s nearing midnight, they let him leave.

“You’ll need to give us your phone number and current residence before you leave in case we have more questions.”

Regulus nods and sleepily jots down Sirius’ flat street address. “What’s going to happen to my job?”

The police officer gives him a look like he must have been kicked in the head by a donkey when he was a kid. He understands it as he walks out onto the street, his backpack finally returned to him. He no longer has a job because Slughorn is likely going to prison. He probably doesn’t have a job even if Slughorn isn’t in prison. He doubts his shitty job will survive this kind of fiasco.

He walks back to the office anyway, mostly because it’s late and he doesn’t know the bus routes well enough to get himself to Sirius’ place without taking a familiar path. His phone is dead and he can’t look anything up.

When he arrives at the office after half an hour of walking, his feet dragging, he realizes that he’s a bloody idiot because it’s way too late for the buses to be running at all. He’s stranded.

Briefly, for a moment so quick a flash of lightning couldn’t have caught it, he considers heading to Barty’s, but then he remembers being pinned to the wall in Sirius’ flat and starts walking in the opposite direction. He’s not the best navigator, but he’s taken the bus to Sirius’ place for a few weeks now, and he thinks that if he tries hard enough, he might be able to replicate it on foot. It’s his only option anyway. He can’t go to Barty, he doesn’t have money to spare on a hotel, not with how much he’s put away to pay Barty and eventually Sirius back, and it’s not like someone is just going to appear out of the mist to drive him home.

It’s also cold—very, very cold. His fingers tremble, and he has to tuck them into his sleeves and his pockets to keep them from aching. He keeps his hood up and focuses on putting one foot in front of the other to get home. He hasn’t eaten, he’s had no water, and his poor sleep from the night before is making this entire thing so much worse.

He walks for nearly forty-five minutes, and his feet are completely numb. It’s not raining, but the air feels wet with humidity, and it’s slowly soaked all of his clothes. His socks feel like they’re suck to him. He’s two steps away from delirious when a loud motorcycle engine roars behind him.

Regulus glances back tiredly, vaguely interested in what he’s hearing—who would be riding a motorcycle at this time of night?—when he’s abruptly sure he’s died and started dreaming. Or maybe he’s lost his mind, dehydration, hunger, and exhaustion making him stupid.

“Reggie!” shouts Sirius. Regulus doesn’t reply because he’s sure he’s dreaming, but then Sirius cuts the motor and sprints off his bike toward where Regulus sways on the side of the road. “What the fuck?”

When Sirius grabs him by the shoulders, Regulus laughs. It’s too real to be a dream, even with how tired he is. “Sirius,” says Regulus, too beat to pretend to be anything but relieved. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Sirius looks like he’s seconds away from taking Regulus to the hospital. Regulus just wants to go home.

“Why are you out here?”

“Slughorn’s in jail. Can you give me a ride home?” He peeks over Sirius’ shoulder at the motorcycle. He’s never ridden on something like that, but he’s just about up for anything given his current state.

“Are you kidding?” Sirius sounds irritated. Regulus raises an eyebrow at him.

“Should I be?”

Sirius gives him an incredulous look. “Come on,” says Sirius. He puts an arm around Regulus’ shoulders and leads him over to the bike. He forces a helmet over Regulus’ hood and snaps it in place under his chin. “Climb on.” He points to the seat behind him after he’s swung his leg over.

Regulus’ legs shake slightly as he tries to imitate Sirius’ grace, he’s just grateful he doesn’t fall and hurt himself. “This would be a lot more fun if I weren’t about to die from hunger,” says Regulus with a laugh.

Sirius shoots him a glare that Regulus doesn’t understand. It makes him nervous, his chest tightening. “Hold on tight.” Regulus wraps his arms around his brother’s mild and squeezes as the motorcycle roars to life. It takes less than twenty minutes to get home with how fast his brother is going. He remembers how slowly he drove in Remus’ car, yet now it’s like driving laws don’t exist.

Sirius parks down the street from the flat, and when they get off the bike, he pulls out his phone and calls someone.

“Who are you calling?” asks Regulus.

“Remus,” answers Sirius. Regulus hears a noise from the phone. “Hey, I found him. Yeah, we’re back at the flat.”

“Where is Remus?” asks Regulus when Sirius hangs up the phone. “Were you out looking for me?”

“Of course, we were out looking for you!” Sirius is shouting, but Regulus must make a face because he abruptly lowers his voice. “You didn’t come from work, and it just kept getting later. We were worried. Remus thought something had happened, but none of us knew where you worked.”

“Oh,” mumbles Regulus, vaguely embarrassed for causing such a stir. “My phone is dead, or I would have called.”

Sirius unlocks the flat door and opens it to an empty, dark room. Regulus feels his embarrassment grow. “Is everyone out looking for me?” asks Regulus in a very small voice. He wishes he could sleep for a couple of years.

Sirius sighs. “Have you eaten? You said you were hungry, right?”

“I feel like my stomach is trying to eat itself,” says Regulus, more honest than he intended to be. Sirius snorts.

“Sit down, I’ll make you something.”

As the lights in the flat come on and the smell of food starts filling the kitchen, Regulus feels every muscle in his body relax. He’s never felt safe like this before, he realizes. It’s odd to feel so comforted. Even after living with Barty for years, he never really felt like he was at home with him. He never even felt this way with his parents in his childhood home. He’s not sure why it’s so different now, sitting at Sirius’ kitchen table.

“Why was Slughorn arrested?” asks Sirius, placing a plate of reheated food in front of Regulus. It’s fried chicken from a place a few blocks away. They must have gotten takeaway tonight. Regulus is sad he missed it while it was still hot, but he’s grateful to have something to eat now. He starts scarfing it down before answering.

“I have no idea. They asked me about a hundred different clients that Slughorn apparently had, but none of it made sense to me.”

Sirius frowns. “What kind of clients?”

Regulus shrugs. “I never met them, so I don’t know.” He swallows a bite of food and feels the worries of the day start pressing into his mind. He’d been ignoring them, too concerned with his lack of food and shelter, but now that he’s safe again. “I need to find another job.”

Sirius shrugs. “You don’t need to worry about that yet.”

“I can’t just not have money coming in.” Sirius gives him a dark look that Regulus doesn’t understand. “What?”

Sirius looks away, his jaw tensing. “We can figure it out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” says Regulus, a yawn big enough to make his jaw pop distracting him. “Listen, I know they’re not back yet, but is it all right if I just go to bed? I’m so tired.”

“You don’t need my permission to go to sleep,” says Sirius. It’s the first thing he’s says softly since finding him on the street.

Regulus drags himself to bed, but when he lays his head on the pillow, he can’t seem to make sleep come. He thinks about being locked in that cell and feels a pang of sympathy that Slughorn is likely in a similar cell right this second. Regulus knows Slughorn wasn’t a great boss, but that doesn’t mean he feels good about what happened to him. He plays back all the questions the police officer’s asked him, but he can’t make sense of them, he can’t figure out what illegal thing Slughorn must have been doing.

He wonders if he’ll even get his last paycheck. He’s not paying rent right now, and he doesn’t have to pay for any food, which is a relief, but he’s been putting every penny away to pay off his debts. At the rate he was being paid by Slughorn, he would have managed it in about a year and a half, at least for the money he owed Barty, but now he’s back in unemployment.

The thought of debts piling up right outside his door makes his skin crawl. It makes his breath quicken. It makes him feel like he’s being buried alive.

He doesn’t sleep. He’s still awake when Remus and James must come back, their voices low in the kitchen, and when the flat falls silent, he curls in a ball and lets the hours tick by. It’s torture.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius is sitting at the kitchen table with an empty plate of food in front of him when they arrive. He has a troubled look on his face, but it clears when he sees James. James and Remus had been driving around together, looking for Regulus after he didn’t come home. Remus couldn’t stop hearing what Regulus had said about his ex, and he’d worked all of them up into an agitated state.

He still hasn’t told Sirius what Regulus told him, but he’s not sure he could get the words out if he needed to.

“Where is he?” asks James. It’s clear he’s worried still. He likes Regulus a lot, probably more than Regulus realizes, and he’s been jittery since their date. Apparently, James is nervous about asking him on another date. He doesn’t seem to have a single idea that Regulus thinks James is not interested in him at all. It would be more frustrating to watch if Remus weren’t sure James had to deal with the exact same thing when Remus and Sirius were first getting together.

“He’s sleeping,” says Sirius. There’s that false positivity again, he’s been putting that on every couple of days since Regulus started living with them. Remus thinks it’s too much to worry about, having Regulus nearby but still unreachable somehow. Sirius looks like he’s drowning and will do anything to avoid telling them the truth.

“Oh,” says James, frowning. His shoulders drop in disappointment. “Why was he so late?”

“His stupid boss was arrested,” says Sirius, “but at least he doesn’t have to work there anymore.”

“Slughorn was arrested?” asks James incredulously.

Sirius nods. “Yeah, Regulus was, too, I think. He was being questioned all day by the police. His phone was dead when he got out. I found him walking out there.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t freeze to death,” says Remus thoughtfully. The cold is bothering him, too. It’s making his hips ache a little extra. He leans heavily on his cane. He’d managed to walk without for a good two weeks, but he’s in too much pain to manage it now.

“I know,” says Sirius, and there’s a darkness to it that makes Remus shiver.

“Are you okay?”

Sirius’ eye twitches slightly, but he plasters on a smile. “I’m fine,” says Sirius. He doesn’t move from the table. It’s like he’s stuck.

“Okay, well, I’m going to bed,” says James. He stretches his arms above his head as he yawns. “I guess I’ll talk to Regulus in the morning.”

Sirius only nods at him, watching idly as James stumbles through the flat toward his bedroom. Remus takes a few steps forward, but he doesn’t join Sirius at the table. “Are you okay?” asks Remus again.

Sirius gazes up at him, and all the emotions he’s treading water in show through his dark eyes. “If Regulus was in some sort of legal trouble,” says Sirius, dragging the words like he doesn’t want to say them, “do you think he would tell us?”

“Legal trouble?” says Remus.

Sirius waits for a moment, freezes, and then nods. “Yes,” says Sirius, but doesn’t elaborate. Remus takes another small step forward. He’s wondering if he should join Sirius at the table when Sirius abruptly stands. “Are your legs hurting, Moony?” asks Sirius. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m okay,” says Remus, though he’s completely ignored as Sirius heads toward their bedroom. He doesn’t reach out to hold him up, which Remus is grateful for. He doesn’t like feeling babied. However, when he gets in the room, Sirius moves around in a flurry, helping him undress and getting their bed ready. Remus, for once, decides not to comment on it.

When they’re in their bed, Sirius lying on his back next to him, he finally broaches the subject from earlier.

“Why did you say that thing about legal trouble?”

Sirius bites his bottom lip. “What I’m about to tell you, you cannot share with anyone, okay?”

Remus pauses, then reaches out to take one of Sirius’ hands resting on his chest. “Tell me.”

“When I was trying to find Regulus, I went to Barty’s place.”

“What?” asks Remus. He shouts it a bit, sitting halfway up in the bed. Sirius looks at him, alarmed. “You went to Barty’s house?”

“His flat,” corrects Sirius with an eyebrow raise. “I thought maybe Regulus had gone back there or that Barty would at least know where Regulus worked, but Barty wasn’t there. It was some blonde guy who said he’d met Regulus in passing. He said he wouldn’t be surprised if Regulus came back, though, and he wasn’t very happy about it.”

“Why?” asks Remus. Sirius is still giving him odd looks, but remembering the conversation with Barty is distracting him enough that he starts to glance away.

“He said something about Regulus owing him. He was talking like they had some sort of deal or like Barty knew something about Regulus that would make him come back. That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” says Remus.

Sirius shakes his head. “What if Regulus did something when he left home? Something illegal, and Barty knows about it. You don’t think Barty is threatening him or anything, do you?”

It’s the perfect opening to tell Sirius what Regulus told him, but he can’t seem to make himself do it. Each time he thinks about the conversation with Regulus, it feels like bile is trying to climb up his throat. He shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” repeats Remus. “But I don’t think you should go back there.”

“To Barty’s place?”

“Yeah,” says Remus. He tries to say more, but all that will come out is. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

In the morning, Regulus comes out of his room looking like he just went to war. He sits at the kitchen table and stares at the wall until after James and Sirius leave for work. Remus doesn’t have to leave for another hour or so, but it’s obvious Regulus doesn’t know what to do with himself. Remus thinks about asking him about what Sirius said about Barty.

“What are you going to do today?” asks Remus.

“I need to find another job,” says Regulus dully.

“I could help you find one,” offers Remus, although Regulus looks a bit like he’s on death's door. Remus wonders when he last took a day off.

Regulus’ eyes brighten. “You will?” asks Regulus, and he sounds so hopeful that Remus can’t bring himself to say anything about Sirius visiting Barty.

“Yeah,” says Remus. “Promise.”

Chapter Text

The solution to one of Regulus’ problems presents itself like the unexpected turn on a country road. He could never have predicted it, but then again, perhaps there were signs.

A little over a week had passed since he was arrested in Slughorn’s office, and Regulus is still struggling to feel any semblance of stability. He sleeps in a room, in a bed, he doesn’t deserve, he skips breakfast every morning, holing up in his room until everyone else has left the house. Even Remus, and that usually takes hours.

Once he’s alone, he wanders around the house until he has the courage to leave, and then he does the exact same thing he did last time. He searches for a job. He uses newspapers and he roams the neighborhood looking for Help Wanted signs. He found Slughorn’s job through a guy at the bar Barty worked at, so in the late afternoon, Regulus goes to bars in the area and loiters. He doesn’t waste money on alcohol, and it usually doesn’t take long before the bartenders are giving him dirty looks.

It all feels like a waste of time, he’s sure that it is, but he doesn’t know what to do. He barely exists as a person. He didn’t go to University, and he barely has any skills beyond what he got from working for Slughorn, and even that isn’t all that useful. He’s sure that adding Slughorn’s law office to his resume isn’t going to help him anyway.

Especially not once the news breaks of Slughorn’s arrest. He’s been charged with a slew of crimes, and Regulus is just lucky to have escaped them.

He doesn’t go back to the flat until late in the evening. At first, he tries to avoid having dinner with them—he feels bad enough living there rent-free—but that plan doesn’t last long. Sirius and his friends give him a wide berth, but they draw the line at dinner, which they almost always eat together like they’re still school children forced to eat dinner before curfew.

At dinner, he listens to them talk about their days or about their upcoming plans, but he doesn’t participate all that much. It becomes abundantly clear almost immediately that Regulus is far too stressed to think or talk about his unemployment, and Remus and James are kind enough to take that stress in stride.

Sirius, stubborn that he is, isn’t as quick to accept it. He frowns at Regulus often, and he keeps giving him looks like he knows something Regulus doesn’t know. He asks detailed questions about where Regulus is going during the day, and Regulus dutifully answers because he’s sure his brother thinks he’s not trying hard enough.

Just like Barty did. Barty knew he wasn’t working hard enough to find a job. He knew what Regulus now suspects is vastly and unchangeably true: there is something wrong with Regulus, and not being able to find work is just one part of that.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep every night. His body hurts from where he’s been holding every ounce of tension, and he picks at his skin and fingernails viciously before any sleep will come.

Everything feels wrong. It all feels like it’s falling apart again, only James seems to provide any kind of bright spot in his day. He’d thought that James was no longer interested, he has a hard time reading him, and he’d given Regulus a bit too much space after their first date, but as the week ends and another begins, James starts opening up again.

He gives him these sly, kind smiles at dinner that make Regulus feel like he might catch fire, he talks about what Regulus might want to do on their next date—a date Regulus keeps putting off because he’d wanted to pay this time around and now he can’t swing it—and on Wednesday night, he walks Regulus back to his room and gently hold his hand, lacing their fingers together in an offering of intimacy.

It’s sweet, and it makes Regulus feel wanted and desperate for more.

When he does sleep, he dreams of James.

On Friday, almost two weeks since Regulus lost his job, he sits at home in the mid-afternoon feeling overwhelmingly like a failure. He feels like he’ll never do anything good, like everything is going to fall apart around him. He’s wallowing quite a bit when James and Sirius barge into the flat in a rush of chaotic energy.

“It’s happening,” whispers Sirius.

“Let’s call the others,” responds James conspiratorially.

They don’t notice him right away, he’s too still at the kitchen table, but as James turns to pull out his phone, walking toward his bedroom, Sirius freezes. “Oh, Regulus, you’re here,” says Sirius. Regulus expects disdain or disappointment, but instead, he hears relief.

“It was a slow day,” says Regulus with a tiny shrug. He doesn’t like to act pathetic just because he feels pathetic. Sirius gives him a sideways smile.

“Perfect,” says Sirius. Regulus raises a questioning brow, and Sirius shakes his head, his grin widening. “I want you here for this.”

“For what?” asks Regulus.

Sirius sets a huge stack of papers down on the kitchen table, giving Regulus a sharp smile. “You’ll see.”

It takes less than twenty minutes for Remus and Peter to make it to the flat. Peter was at work, but his boss barely shows up in the office, so he comes and goes as he pleases. Remus had just finished teaching his class when James called. It was perfect timing, they both agree.

Regulus, feeling odd and out of place, sits at the kitchen table surrounded by Sirius, Peter, Remus, and James as James dramatically unveils what the stack of papers means. Regulus can tell almost immediately that the others already know or at least have some idea, they all look appropriately excited and not completely lost.

James reveals the first page of the stack with a flourish, and Regulus has to lean forward to see what it is. It appears to be a hand-drawn picture of a small building, a sign that says ‘Padfoot’s Records’ hanging right above the front door.

“Records?” breathes Regulus. He looks at his brother, but Sirius is staring awestruck at the drawing, his eyes wide and dazed.

“How did you get this made so quickly?” asks Sirius.

James chuckles. “Pandora drew it. I told her about the new space yesterday, and she gave me this last night.”

“She’s a marvel,” says Sirius. He bends over the table and gently runs his fingers over the drawing, a look of reverence covering his features.

“A record store?” asks Regulus. He turns toward James. “Is this the thing you told me about?”

James smiles at him, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. He looks elated and so light, like if he tried hard enough, he could grow wings right in that kitchen. For a split second, James’ eyes drop to Regulus’ lips. Regulus licks them nervously. They’ve only kissed that one time, but Regulus had been thinking about it more and more as time went on. James hasn’t tried anything else since then, but Regulus, to his own surprise, is starting to hope that he will.

“James told you about this?” asks Sirius. Once again, Regulus expects disappointment, but he’s met with amazement.

“Yeah, he told me when we were…” He glances at James, unsure of how to finish the sentence, but James appears to be smiling dumbly, and he’s no help at all.

“This is amazing,” interrupts Peter. Thankfully. Peter had a knack for timing. “This is going to be amazing!”

“I can’t believe it’s actually happening,” says Sirius.

“So the location took your application to rent it?” asks Remus.

James nods. “Yes! We had to put down so much money to claim the space, but it doesn’t matter because it’s ours now.”

“Show me the contract,” says Remus frantically.

“Moony, you big nerd,” says Sirius with so much loving fondness that Regulus feels faintly embarrassed.

Remus doesn’t even blush, he winks at Sirius. “I want to see my boyfriend's name on it.”

Sirius makes a noise like someone hit him in the chest with a rubber ball, leaning back in his chair with a puff of air. “I can’t believe it,” says Sirius.

“It is going to take so much work to get this place up and running,” says Peter, reaching toward the stack of paper. A few pages have already been shoved in Remus’ hands, and he’s looking over them with a fine-tooth comb. “We’re going to have to buy stock.”

“Yeah, and design the layout and build all the shelving,” says James.

“We should get our sign up in front of the store as quickly as we can,” says Sirius.

“Agreed,” says Remus.

“We’ll need help,” says Peter.

“Without a doubt,” agrees James. He turns slightly and grins at Regulus. Regulus smiles back helplessly. It’s impossible not to smile at James when he smiles like that. Regulus glances away and finds Peter smiling at him, too. Remus is also watching him. So is Sirius.

“Why are you all looking at me?” asks Regulus, feeling like he’s been excluded from a joke.

“It’s perfect, don’t you think?” asks Sirius, his eyes jumping around the table quickly before settling back on Regulus. “We need help getting the shop up and running, you need a job.”

Regulus’ mouth drops open. “You want me to work for you?”

“We want you to work with us,” interjects Remus. “We always knew we’d have to hire people, and you’ve already worked a job where you had to handle a lot of paperwork.”

“I mean, I was just organizing it,” says Regulus.

“None of us is very organized,” says Sirius with a wave of his hand. Regulus uses all the training he received in childhood to keep from reacting to that statement. Sirius almost certainly has some sort of nervous disorder that makes him clean excessively. It’s incongruent with the persona he wears of a devil-may-care man, but Regulus sees it regardless.

“Are you sure about this?” asks Regulus instead, although he can already see the image forming in his mind. He used to love that old record store, and the thought of helping to build one from the ground up makes him feel excited.

“We get the keys on Monday,” says James. Regulus could kiss him. He wants to kiss him. “Come with us?”

“Okay,” breathes Regulus. Once he agrees, madness breaks out around him. Sirius and James start cheering, Peter joining in almost instantly, and soon the three of them are hopping around in excitement. Remus is the only one still sitting at the table. “You don’t want to join them?”

Remus laughs heartily, but he rubs his leg beneath the table. “Too sore,” says Remus.

Regulus shakes his head. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Remus starts to protest, but Regulus can tell this is an important moment. He takes Remus’ hand and pulls him to his feet. Remus has to place a heavy hand on Regulus’ shoulder to steady himself, but once Sirius catches sight of him standing, he drags him over, and soon the four of them are celebrating loudly together.

It’s sweet, Regulus thinks, and he can perfectly picture what the four of them might have looked like when they were at school together, how their friendship must have formed. It creates an odd mix of fondness and melancholy in the pit of his stomach.

“We have to go out and celebrate!” yells Sirius.

“Yes!” agrees James. “Everyone, get dressed, we’re going out!”

Regulus doesn’t know if he’s invited at first, but then Sirius is tossing him a set of his clothes to wear, mumbling, “You’ll never fit in with your work clothes. We’ll have to go shopping again.”

“My clothes are fine!” argues Regulus as he dresses in his brother’s outfit. It fits him perfectly, they’re about the same height and have a very similar build, but it’s strange to be wearing something that doesn’t belong to him. The dark denim trousers have tears down the front that show off pieces of his thigh, and the shirt is just a little too tight, hugging his arms and chest.

He thinks he looks ridiculous until James sees him. He looks like he’s been slapped in the face as he says, “Are those Sirius’?”

Regulus looks down at himself. “Yeah, he forced me to wear them,” says Regulus.

“Wow,” is all James says. Regulus doesn’t need to be a mindreader to know what that means, especially when James puts an arm around his waist as they leave the flat.

They end up at a pub down the street, and James quickly orders enough food to make them all sick, but they linger there for more than three hours, drinking beer and snacking on the feast James purchased. By the time they leave, Regulus is comfortably buzzed. He boldly grabs James’ hand as they walk down the street outside of the pub, and he’s rewarded with a pleased smile so wide that he can see all of James’ teeth.

Sometime later, they end up at a much busier bar. They’ve been aimlessly hopping from one pub to another, but now the four of them are squished into a booth at a loud bar, half-finished beers in front of them. Peter didn’t make it to this place; he was drunk texting his girlfriend, telling her how much he loved her, and she showed up to whisk him away, much to the entertainment of his friends.

He’s warm and happy, tucked against the wall with James’ arm resting over his shoulders. Remus and Sirius are sitting across from them, Remus on the end so he can stretch his long legs out. His cane is propped up against the table.

“I think we should have a whole section of weird stuff,” slurs Sirius. He’s the drunkest amongst them, and his cheeks are bright red from the alcohol.

“Define weird stuff,” replies James.

As Sirius launches into an explanation that he clearly had prepared before bringing up the topic, Regulus glances around the bar. It’s packed, almost all the available seats taken. He’s watching two women laugh together at a table near the front door when the door swings open, the slight rain outside causing a wash of cold air to flow through the bar for a second.

Regulus barely notices it, he barely notices anything.

“Are you all right?” asks James. Regulus must have tensed. He nods and looks away from the door.

“Yeah,” mumbles Regulus. “Barty’s here.” He rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know if he’s visible from the front door, but he hopes not. He doesn’t feel like talking to his ex right now, especially after having such a good day. He blows out an annoyed breath and glances up to see Remus watching him with an odd expression. Regulus doesn’t know what to make of it, he’s never seen Remus look like that.

“Barty, your ex Barty?” asks Remus, looking over his shoulder at the door. “Is he alone?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” says Regulus.

“Do you want to leave?” asks James.

“No, it’s fine,” says Regulus, though he really would like to leave.

Remus turns to kiss Sirius once on the lips, Sirius leans into it drunkenly, and looks starstruck when Remus pulls away. “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you closing our tab?” asks Sirius.

Remus doesn’t grab for his cane as he stands, but he walks without a limp as he heads for the bar. Regulus is only vaguely watching him. Sirius is right, he’s probably closing the tab, but it makes Regulus feel bad. He doesn’t want to mess up their night.

The next moment is akin to watching two trains crash into each other, it’s impossible to understand what he’s seeing, yet he can’t look away.

Remus doesn’t head for the bar. He heads for Barty. Regulus thinks, for a second, that Remus is going to say something to him, and his chest tightens with worry, but before Barty can even acknowledge the man, Remus’ fist is colliding with Barty’s cheek.

“Oh!” shouts Regulus, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Sirius and James react, too, but Regulus can barely focus on them. Remus is already hitting Barty again, sucker punching him, Barty looks more confused than injured. But then Remus hits him for the third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. Barty is on the ground, and Sirius and James are rushing forward to stop their friend, and Regulus is frozen.

Barty is bleeding, and the bar is in chaos, and Regulus can’t move.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus isn’t sure how they get back to the flat. He’s never hit anyone before, he didn’t realize it could make his knuckles hurt so badly. They’re bruised and bloody, some parts of the skin broken like he was slamming his fists into a brick wall. The world around him feels dull as he stares at them, only Sirius’ voice can cut through it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” shouts Sirius. “What were you thinking? Why did you do that?” The questions come faster than Remus can track. Sirius is barely breathing, he even sounds lightheaded.

Remus drags his eyes away from his hands. He’s in the chair near their television. Sirius is standing over him, his arms tossed out at his sides like he’s about to envelop Remus in a hug or maybe smother him to death. James is on the couch, his hands clasped together between his spread legs. Regulus is standing behind the couch with his arms tightly crossed.

“Remus,” snaps Sirius.

Remus doesn’t look at him, he can’t look away from Regulus’ shellshocked face. He looks like he just witnessed someone die.

“Tell me why you did that! You could go to jail. You could be fired from your job. Do you not even care?” Sirius sounds shrill. He sounds like that when he’s worried or when he’s been pushed too far. He sounds like he’s seconds away from breaking. Remus cringes.

“Regulus,” says Remus. Regulus’ eyes snap to his. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” whispers Regulus.

“I have to tell him what you told me,” says Remus.

Regulus’ already pale face drains of all its remaining blood. “Oh.”

“What did you tell him?” asks Sirius angrily. Regulus flinches.

“Sirius, please,” says Remus. This is hard enough without Sirius’ panic stirring the pot. Sirius turns to him with a look of rage, but Remus can see the worry behind him, the strain around his eyes, the way his hands keep clamping into fists nervously.

“I understand,” says Regulus. “You can tell him.”

Remus tilts his head in acknowledgment, letting his gaze settle on James just long enough for Regulus to notice. When he looks back, Regulus gives a defeated sigh, his eyes closing, and nods. Remus regrets putting him in this position; he regrets having to share this, but he doesn’t regret the bruises on his knuckles.

As he speaks, reiterating the details Regulus shared with him, Sirius grows more and more dazed. Only when Regulus intervenes does Sirius seem to snap out of it.

“What do you mean rape?” asks Regulus, his voice unusually sharp. “It wasn’t rape, we were dating.”

“You can still rape your significant other,” says Remus. He already had this part prepared, he remembers the way Regulus brushed off the violence he’d endured. “If I had sex with Sirius when he didn’t want me to, that would be rape.”

Regulus looks between them. He looks confused, he looks helpless. Remus feels vaguely ill.

“No, that’s not true, is it?”

“So if I was hurting Sirius every single day, forcing him to have sex with me, that would be fine with you because we’re dating?” asks Remus. Sirius’ face is green.

Regulus looks between them again. “I don’t think you would hurt Sirius. You said you wouldn’t,” says Regulus quietly.

Remus sighs. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“But Barty—Barty was paying for me? He paid my rent.”

“That still doesn’t make it not rape.”

Regulus swallows. “He said I was just overreacting,” says Regulus. He sounds like he’s trying to convince them. Remus understands why, but he can see James’ jaw getting progressively tenser. Sirius hasn’t moved in at least ten minutes. “And besides, I owe him. It was fine.”

“You owe him?” asks Sirius. His voice sounds hoarse.

Regulus glances at him fearfully. “He paid my rent for years,” says Regulus. “I still owe him so much money.”

“And he was raping you as a form of payment?” asks Sirius. Regulus flinches again, this time far more intensely than he did before. Remus reflexively reaches out and grabs Sirius’ hand. He knows Sirius isn’t mad at his brother, but Regulus looks rubbed raw and vulnerable.

“No, that wasn’t payment. He was just—” He looks at a loss for words. The truth of what happened to him must be slowly sinking in because he appears more horrified at every passing second.

“Is that why you were covered in bruises when you showed up here?” asks Sirius.

“We were just roughhousing,” says Regulus automatically, like it’s a practiced answer.

“How often did Barty end up covered in bruises after you two were roughhousing?” asks Remus.

Regulus can barely look at him. “He’s stronger than I am.”

The silence in the flat is so thick that Remus can barely breathe.

“How much money do you owe him?” asks Sirius. He asks it softly, and Remus wants to pull his boyfriend into his lap and hold him until the sun comes up.

Regulus looks away, staring directly at his feet. He’s drenched in shame. “A lot,” says Regulus.

James stands abruptly, he doesn’t say anything or look at any of them, but in the blink of an eye, he’s gone, leaving through the front door and slamming it behind him. Regulus watches him leave with a devastated expression that steals every spark of light in Remus’ body. Regulus swallows twice, his eyes watering.

“If you’ll excuse me,” mumbles Regulus, and then he’s gone, the door to this bedroom closing with a polite click.

Chapter Text

Regulus is sure that his chest is caving in on itself. That’s how it feels when he shuts his door. He can’t seem to move when the door clicks behind him. He wants to throw himself onto the bed or collapse to the floor, find some comfort or some solace, but instead his blood fills with lead and he can’t make his muscles move.

“Stop crying. You always do this, and it ruins the mood. Fuck, I let you live here for free, you’d think you’d be a little more grateful.”

Regulus wonders if it's possible to die from humiliation. The way Remus was looking at him, that pity on his face. The way Sirius’s expression twisted in anger. The way James… Regulus hissed. He wasn’t quite crying yet, though his eyes burned harshly, but his body was tensing and twitching like it was fighting back tears.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. Just flip over and I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is lie there. It’s not that hard.”

Regulus’ hands cramp into claws. He can’t dig his nails into his skin like he usually would. He longs for the pain, if only to make the noise in his head a little quieter. He trembles like a giant has swept him off his feet and is shaking him to death. His teeth clench and chatter. He wonders if they’ll break.

“There really isn’t that much blood. You’re just being dramatic. No, don’t squirm away like that. I have to go to work in a few minutes anyway. You can shower later. Stop fucking wailing.”

The door behind him opens, and Regulus flinches badly enough to trip over his discarded clothes. He hadn’t picked them up last night, so they were still sitting in piles around the room. He falls to the ground hard enough to hurt and instantly covers his face. He’s not even sure why, covering himself never stopped Barty from getting what he wanted. Usually, it just made him angry, so Regulus had trained himself not to overreact.

Somehow, in his panic, he forgets that he shouldn’t fight back or cower.

“Oh, Reggie,” Sirius says, and he sounds so, so sad. Regulus is just relieved that he doesn’t sound angry. Sirius kneels before him as Regulus lowers his shaking arms. He doesn’t want to meet Sirius’ eyes. He doesn’t know what he’ll find there, but he worries it will be something horrible. Somehow, though, it feels worse not to look at him at all.

Sirius is watching him carefully now that they’re at eye level. His face is pulled tight with tension and worry, but the anger Regulus saw earlier is long gone. The tears that have been threatening him since Remus started talking finally spill over, and he can feel his face twist in a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus cries.

“Why are you sorry?” Sirius asks. Regulus flinches again, so small that he hopes Sirius doesn’t notice. He’s not that lucky, though, and Sirius makes a noise like he’s been hit in the face.

“I didn’t know,” Regulus says, and his breaths are coming quicker now. They feel like hot acid tearing in and out of him. “I promise I didn’t know.”

Sirius moves quicker than Regulus can see, and in a second, he has his arms wrapped around Regulus’ torso. It’s awkward with the way they’re both sitting on the floor, but Regulus is crying too hard to breathe, let alone care, and Sirius doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

The sobs come faster with each passing second, but Sirius’ arms grow tighter each time Regulus struggles to pull in oxygen into his lungs. Self-hatred rolls inside of him like thunder. Why didn’t he stop Barty? Why didn’t he ever try to fight him off? Why didn’t he get out? Why didn’t he do anything? He just took it, every single time Barty forced himself inside of him, Regulus just cried like a child and hoped that it would be over.

He was weak and pathetic. He was worthless.

“Stop, Regulus, no,” says Sirius, his voice sounds tight with tears, too. “Just breathe, okay? Just slow down and breathe. I promise it’s going to be okay.”

Regulus doesn’t know if he’s thinking words or speaking them, but it hardly matters because his brother already knows all of Regulus’s worst secrets. He’s hugging him now, but what happens when he lets go? Is he going to leave again? He never liked who Regulus was before. Why would he like him now?

“Calm down,” says Sirius, his voice barely a whisper. One of his strong hands settles on Regulus’ back, and it’s just enough to slam Regulus back into his body. He clings to Sirius as hard as he can, sure that he’s hurting him with the way his hands dig into his back. “Breathe with me, okay? Match my breathing.”

Regulus tries, but his lungs feel tight and his throat keeps threatening to close. It takes far longer than he wants it to, but Sirius doesn’t rush him. He keeps rubbing his back and taking steadying, deep breaths while Regulus shakes against him. Regulus is sure Sirius is crying too, but he doesn’t know why he feels that way. He can’t see his face, and Sirius isn’t sobbing openly like Regulus is, but every once in a while, his breathing shakes. It’s barely noticeable, but Regulus must be picking up on more than he realizes.

“I promise I didn’t know. I would have done something, had I known,” says Regulus.

Sirius tenses for a split second before relaxing, his hold tightening a fraction. “Do you think I’m upset with you?”

“You should be,” sighs Regulus. The sobs have stopped, but the tears continue to fall. He presses his face into Sirius’ neck like he did when they were children.

“I would never be mad at you for someone else hurting you. Your ex, he’s a monster. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I should have done something to fight back like a man would. You would never let something like that happen to you.”

Sirius makes an odd noise. “Is that what this is about? You think it makes you weak because someone manipulated and hurt you?”

“Doesn’t it?” says Regulus.

“Don’t be stupid,” says Sirius, and he sounds so exasperated that it makes Regulus laugh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were kicked out. I wish I could have saved you from him.”

“You didn’t know.”

“That’s our problem, isn’t it?” asks Sirius. “Neither of us had any idea.”

Regulus laughs again, but it sounds wet and full of pain. He can barely get the next words out. “James is disgusted by me.”

Sirius rests one of his hands on the back of Regulus’ head. It makes Regulus feel like he’s a little kid again. It’s unexpected, but it makes him feel safe. “He was just surprised.”

“He left.”

Sirius sighs. “I know, but sometimes James needs time to process things. He’ll be back.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?”

He feels Sirius shake his head. “Let’s not worry about it tonight, okay?”

Regulus feels another sob building. His voice is unnaturally tight when he replies, “Okay.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus falls asleep on the couch sometime between Sirius entering Regulus’ bedroom and James coming back to the flat. His eyes feel heavy as he forces them open, catching the moment James steps into the living room, his entire body tight with some clenched emotion.

“James?” says Remus. James looks at him in surprise. He has deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is wet. It must be raining outside. It wasn’t raining when they got home. “What time is it?”

“A little after four,” says James.

How long had Remus been sleeping? He couldn’t remember what time they got home from the bar. His body is stiff like he’s been asleep for a while. When he tries to push himself off the couch, he hisses in pain and falls back into the cushions.

“Are you all right?”

“My hands,” says Remus, holding up his bruised and swollen fists.

“Let me get you some ice,” says James.

“No, it’s fine. Just help me up.” James does, holding Remus around his middle as he half lifts him to his feet. Every one of Remus’ joints aches. It feels like he’s been put through a meat grinder. James breathes steadily next to him like he’s unfazed by Remus’s weight. “Where did you go?”

“I couldn’t let that guy come back and demand money from Regulus,” says James.

“What?”

“Sirius told me where he lives after he went looking for Regulus that one night. I figured that guy would be there.” His voice is dry, lacking any inflection. Remus feels the first trickle of worry he’s felt in hours.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?”

James snorts. “No,” says James. “But he won’t be back.”

“What did you do, James?”

James eyes him, and Remus is surprised to see how steady he looks, his body is tense, but his eyes are settled, like he’d answered a question he’d been asking for a while. “Where are Sirius and Regulus?”

Remus shakes his head and detaches himself from James. Now that he’s upright, he’s steady enough to stay standing. He walks toward Regulus’ bedroom, knocking once on the door. No noise comes from the other side of the door, so he slowly opens it, peeking his head in.

Regulus is asleep in his bed, and Sirius is sitting on the floor next to him, his face propped against the mattress as he snores. Both of them look exhausted. Tear streaks still litter Regulus’ face. Remus closes the door silently.

“Is he okay?” asks James. He’s right behind Remus, but Remus doesn’t know if he was able to see into the room.

“I think so,” says Remus. He sighs as he says it, he’s beat from the long day, and he wants nothing more than to curl up next to Sirius in bed, but he can’t bring himself to wake him and leave Regulus by himself. “I’m going to bed.”

James nods, but he’s still looking at Regulus’ closed door.

“We’re going to have to talk about this in the morning,” says Remus.

James only nods. “I know.”

“Get some sleep,” says Remus. He’s worried James will stay hovering outside of Regulus’ door all night if Remus doesn’t shoo him off. James smiles a tiny bit.

“I will.”

Chapter Text

Regulus knows everything is ruined the moment he wakes up to see Sirius sleeping on the floor next to his bed. There is a heavy pressure on his chest that feels so intense he’s sure he’s going to succumb to it. He’ll die like this, heartbroken and humiliated. He was stupid to think he could have someone as good as James after everything. A foolish, idiot boy, that’s all he is. It’s a shame to find out after all this time that his mother was actually right about him.

He doesn’t leave his bed for a long time, but he can see that it’s still early morning outside, and besides, he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Will he still have a job with Sirius and his friends? He’s not even sure if they will still want him around after what they learned.

Against his will, his mind starts to conjure up images of Sirius, Remus, and James being forced to watch every dirty thing Barty ever did to him. It plays on a loop even as he tries to shake the thoughts away. It’s never-ending.

“Regulus,” says Sirius harshly enough for Regulus to startle. “You have to stop picking at your skin like that. It’s going to get infected.”

Regulus hadn’t even realized he was picking at his skin. He supposes that’s the way of things with him. He never knows what he needs to know.

“I’m sorry,” says Regulus. Please don’t kick me out. He’s not sure why he believes Sirius will do that, not when he’d gone out of his way to comfort him the night before, but it feels so daunting.

Sirius looks groggy, his eyes barely open as he grabs Regulus’s wrist and gently pulls his hand away from where he’s still picking at the skin right under his collarbone.

“I’m sorry about last night,” says Regulus.

Sirius’ face softens, just as it used to when they were children. Regulus was always running to Sirius for comfort when they were little. He feels vaguely embarrassed that he never grew out of that trait.

“I just really can’t see you get hurt anymore,” says Sirius with startling honesty. “It’s tearing me apart, Reg. I need you to be careful with yourself.”

“I’m trying,” says Regulus. Sirius doesn’t look like he believes him. He amends it to, “I don’t know how.”

Sirius frowns, but it’s not aimed at Regulus. He looks thoughtful and curious. It makes Regulus feel like a science experiment. “I don’t know either,” confesses Sirius. “Maybe Remus knows.”

Regulus cringes, a sharp pain behind his eyes. “I can’t believe he assaulted Barty.”

Sirius shakes his head, his eyes going a little hazy. “It was so hot.”

“Sirius,” chides Regulus. “Don’t say things like that where I can hear them.”

“I’ve never seen Remus get violent before,” says Sirius, and then softly he adds, “He must really care about you.”

“I don’t know why,” defends Regulus as if he has just been accused of a crime. “Do you think he’ll get in trouble? I don’t want that to happen.”

“I think it’ll be okay,” says Sirius. “I can hire a solicitor.”

Regulus longs to start picking at his skin again, but Sirius is still holding his wrist firmly in his hand.

“I don’t want you to waste your money on that,” says Regulus.

Sirius glances at him from where he’d been staring at the bed with unfocused eyes. “Don’t worry about it now,” says Sirius. “We can deal with that later if we have to.”

Regulus nods, though he knows it will continue to plague him. He can already see the long road ahead of waiting for the next shoe to drop. It feels like there are so many shoes hanging, waiting to slam down into his ill-formed life and wreck it even further than it has already been wrecked.

“Barty doesn’t like the police,” whispers Regulus. “He might not say anything.”

Sirius’ face fills with anger, and he finally releases Regulus’ wrist. “Are you hungry?”

Regulus furrows his eyebrows. “Not really,” says Regulus, a little slowly.

“I’m going to make breakfast. You should come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’re going to start tearing at your skin the moment I leave the room.”

Regulus bristles, although Sirius is correct. “You can’t hover over me forever,” says Regulus.

Sirius’ angry face grows angrier, and he abruptly stands and turns his back. Regulus can see his ribs expand as he takes a few deep breaths. It makes him nervous. It makes him want to curl into a ball and die. When Sirius turns back around, he looks calmer but in a frightening way. It’s all false ease and unsteady waters.

“Will you come into the kitchen with me or not?”

“I will,” says Regulus quickly, sitting up in bed. “I’m not a good cook.”

“You can supervise,” mumbles Sirius.

While Sirius cooks, Regulus wonders if Sirius might have developed some kind of nervous habit around cooking and cleaning. They’d been told as children that only people below them were meant to clean, that they should never lift a finger to care for such matters, but Sirius seems to turn to cooking and cleaning as if it will steady the rolling tide inside him.

Regulus had never cleaned until he moved in with Barty, and then he’d cleaned nonstop just to keep Barty from yelling at him

Sirius seems to clean because his feelings are too big, Regulus only cleaned because he was afraid. He never cooked for Barty. One time, he’d tried after Barty accused him of never trying to do anything nice for him, and he’d burnt dinner so badly that Barty had choked him till he’d blacked out. Barty had laughed it off later, saying he was just playing, and Regulus felt horribly embarrassed to have gotten upset in the first place.

Sirius doesn’t have the same fear backed into his actions as he whizzes around the kitchen, cooking at light speed. His muscles grow looser, and a small smile appears on his face as the meal comes together in front of him.

He’s made a ridiculous amount of food, Regulus notices that right away, but he doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin Sirius’ good mood. It wouldn’t be so bad anyway if Regulus were hungry, but the smell of everything just turns his stomach.

“You’re not hungry?” asks Sirius. He hasn’t touched any of the food either, even though he piled both of their plates high with eggs, sausage, toast, and beans.

“I told you I wasn’t,” says Regulus. Sirius looks confused, as if he’s trying to place that memory. “I feel a bit sick, actually.”

“Did you drink too much?” asks Sirius.

Regulus gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. Sirius manages to miss it, or he purposefully ignores it. Regulus can’t be sure which is more likely. Regulus doesn’t elaborate, it should be clear why he feels as nervous as he does, but there is also an unspoken worry that he can’t bring himself to voice, especially to his brother.

James had left in disgust. If they said each other again, if James didn’t decide to avoid him entirely, then James was no doubt going to break up with him. Regulus doesn’t blame him, he knows why James doesn’t want to date him. He wouldn’t choose to date himself given the chance. He’s disgusting. He’s filth.

“This is morose,” says Remus, his cane clacking loudly against the kitchen floor as he enters. He’s limping badly enough that he looks like a quarter of his height was chopped off the top, leaving him tilted and short. He’s clearly in pain, his face twists with it on every inhale, and Regulus wants to look away from him.

“Remus,” says Sirius with so much relief that Remus may as well have rescued him from a burning building. Regulus wonders if there is something about him that makes other people feel like that. Even Barty, who had every part of Regulus without a moment of complaint from Regulus, didn’t want him completely. He’d still cheated on him. His parents had been disgusted by him, enough to throw him out on his arse. Even Sirius had run from him, all those years ago.

He wonders if it’s possible to suffocate without meaning to. If he forgets to breathe for long enough, will he die? Sometimes he hopes he will.

“Good morning, darling,” says Remus with a tired sigh. “How long have you two been up?”

“Not long,” says Sirius.

“Hours,” says Regulus at the same time. Sirius gives him a dirty look, but it’s playful, and Regulus surprises himself by laughing. He sobers instantly. It feels wrong to laugh, it feels wrong to enjoy himself at all. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, and then turns to look at Remus. “Why don’t we sit at the table? Are you hungry?”

Remus smiles gratefully and walks to the table slowly, settling into one of the chairs with a pained groan. Regulus wants to flee, but he’s sure Sirius won’t allow it, so he joins Remus at the table, his untouched plate of food coming with him. Remus’ eyes slide closed after he sits, his jaw going a little slack like he’s already falling asleep. Regulus tucks his hands under his thighs to keep from irritating the pleasant burn on the skin under his collarbone.

Sirius joins them by placing another overfilled plate in front of Remus, a tender look on his face that Regulus has to avert his eyes from. Sirius gently shakes Remus by the shoulder, and Remus jolts awake.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to,” mumbles Remus sleepily, already picking up his fork.

“When did you go to bed?” asks Sirius.

“I fell asleep on the couch for a while,” says Remus, after taking one giant bite of food. Remus could eat more than all of them combined, yet he always stayed thin, his excessively long limbs burning through all of the food he ingested. “I didn’t get to bed till after James got home.”

Regulus feels the room spin, a stinging pain in his side making his vision go blurry for a few seconds.

“Don’t worry,” says Remus. “He didn’t kill him.”

“What?” asks Regulus, his voice high-pitched and reedy.

“Remus,” warns Sirius.

Remus places his free hand on Sirius’ and says, “James didn’t kill Barty. I asked him.”

Regulus stares at him in horror, Sirius is shaking his head at Remus like he’s trying to quietly scold him. Regulus sputters before he’s able to say, “Why would James kill Barty?”

“He’s not usually violent, he was just weird when he came back.”

Regulus wonders if he’s stopped breathing again. He can’t quite tell. “Came back,” he mumbles. It’s not quite a question, more a difficulty following the conversation.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time to talk about this,” says Sirius.

“Oh, sorry,” says Remus, and he looked embarrassed, as if he would ever have anything to be embarrassed about. Regulus is mortified, though he’s not sure why yet.

“I’m so confused,” says Regulus.

“You don’t need to worry about it yet,” says Sirius.

“Did James go to talk to Barty?” asks Regulus, ignoring Sirius entirely.

“That’s my understanding of it,” says Remus. “I didn’t get all the details.”

Regulus lifts his hands to cover his face. He might scream. He would scream if he had less self-control. “Why would he do that?” asks Regulus. He feels like someone is standing on his chest. What did Barty tell him? That’s all he can think about. It’s bad enough that James knows, it’s even worse that James knows Regulus was too stupid to understand it. It’s completely unfathomable that James and Barty were having a conversation.

“Regulus,” says Sirius, and his gentle tone is starting to grate on Regulus bad enough that he has to shove away from the table.

“I’m going for a walk,” announces Regulus. His voice doesn’t shake, but it feels like it will at any moment.

“You’re still in your pajamas,” says Remus unhelpfully.

Regulus looks down and nearly growls in frustration. He’d been ready to sleep in his clothes last night, but Sirius had insisted he change into something more comfortable. He stomps away from the table like a child and slams into his bedroom, the door ricocheting against the wall loudly. He barely notices. He strips off his pajamas and shoves into some trousers that are probably dirty, throwing a shirt over his head and stomping out of the flat before anyone could stop him.

It’s chilly outside, and it makes him shiver slightly, but mostly it feels nice. The cold is a relief after feeling so cooped up all morning. His head is spinning, but his feet are steady. His heart constricts every couple of seconds, never letting him get far enough from the worries that plague his mind.

He walks until his legs hurt and then turns a corner and walks some more. Every moment feels endless, and he knows eventually he’ll have to go back and face the mess he left behind at the flat.

Though he’s not consciously tracking where he’s going, he somehow ends up in the park he went to with James on their first date. He thinks he might be crying, but it could also be the cold nipping at his nose. His feet are starting to ache, and his fingers have gone numb from the cold, but it’s okay because the park reminds him of a simpler feeling. It makes him feel safe. So he sits on one of the benches and hangs his head back, relaxing against the wood.

If Barty had never found him, he might have died on the street. Something far worse than what Barty did to him could have happened. He isn’t upset with Barty, though he knows he should be. He can tell that Sirius is upset, and obviously Remus was upset enough to hit the man, but Regulus doesn’t feel anything but worry about what James and the others will think about him.

Everything that Barty did, it’s in the past, isn't it? He doesn’t know. He hasn’t given himself much time to think it over. He knows he doesn’t miss Barty, and he still remembers the pain and humiliation he inflicted, but it seems so far away.

The only thing that gives him pause is that one moment of fear when James kissed him.

The bench shifts as someone sits next to him. He doesn’t have to look over to know who it is. He can smell James’ soap in the wind.

“Hey,” says James.

Regulus sighs. He can hear the resolution in James’ voice, and it doesn’t bode well for him. “Hi, James,” says Regulus.

“I think we should talk.”

“We don’t have to,” says Regulus hopefully.

James snorts. Regulus likes that he can still make him laugh.

“I wish that were true.”

Regulus sighs again. It’s hard to breathe, he realizes, but he can’t figure out what to do about it. “I already know what you’re going to say,” says Regulus. He’s afraid James is going to tell him what he and Barty talked about. He doesn’t want to know. He’s better off not knowing.

“Do you?” asks James lightly.

“You want to break up with me,” says Regulus. “It’s okay. I’m not upset.”

James makes an unhappy noise. “I think I owe you an apology,” says James, so softly that it feels like a soft splash of warm rain against his skin.

“Why?”

“I think I might have rushed you into this,” says James. “I knew you were fresh out of a relationship, but I really liked you, so I just went for it. Sirius even warned me that it might be too soon. Now, knowing about you and—sorry, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but knowing about that, I should have given you more space.”

Regulus feels struck dumb. He knew this was coming, but he hadn’t expected the reasoning.

“I didn’t need space from you,” says Regulus.

He can see out of his peripheral vision that James is looking at him, but Regulus refuses to look back. “I think we should slow things down,” whispers James. “Is that all right?”

It hurts worse than if James spit in his face. “That’s fine,” says Regulus.

James is silent for a long time. Regulus lets his eyes close, he feels like his chest has been cleaved open. “I’ll just leave you to your thoughts then,” says James as if he’s the one who’s hurting. Regulus only nods because his throat feels too tight to speak. He’s afraid he’ll do something stupid anyway, like beg James to take it all back.

He stays in the park for well over an hour, and when he goes home, the flat is quiet. He can see lights on in Sirius and Remus’ room, but the door is shut, so Regulus goes into his own room silently.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius is a nervous wreck after Regulus leaves, but he manages to turn that nervous energy into making Remus feel human again. Every piece of him hurts, but Sirius sees his pain as clearly as if he were feeling it. He helps Remus take a bath, and then he works arthritis pain relief cream into his joints.

James leaves his room at one point and walks into their bedroom without knocking. He doesn’t seem nearly as scandalized as Remus thinks he should look, given that Remus is completely nude, spread out on the mattress while Sirius rubs his knee. Sirius looks up without pausing.

“Morning,” says Sirius. “Did you kill Barty?”

James looks away angrily. “I should have,” says James.

“Yes, I agree,” says Sirius.

“Sirius, no,” says Remus. “It’s good that you didn’t kill anyone, James.”

“Where is Regulus?”

Sirius turns away from James and stares at Remus’s swollen knee like it personally insulted him. “He went out,” says Sirius angrily. “I can’t believe that monster, his fucking ex. I wish he were dead. I wish I could kill him.”

“Out where?” asks James as if he didn’t hear anything else Sirius said.

“He went for a walk, I think,” says Remus. “We figured it might be a good idea to give him some space.”

James makes a face like he was waiting for a sign and had just received it. “I’m going to go look for him.”

Sirius doesn’t respond, so Remus says, “Okay.” James nods at them and leaves, never once mentioning the fact that Remus’s cock is laying soft against his thigh. “I need to stop letting James see me naked.”

Sirius again doesn’t respond.

“Sirius,” prompts Remus, knocking his leg to the side to get Sirius’ attention. Sirius grinds his teeth.

“I’m so angry,” whispers Sirius.

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do with all this anger. It feels like it’s going to consume me.”

It’s more honest than he’s ever heard Sirius be, yet his hands are reliably gentle. Remus loves him so deeply that it feels like a bottomless cavern is hollowed out in his chest where Sirius lives.

“I’m so sorry,” says Remus truthfully.

“Regulus didn’t realize what was happening to him. We had rotten childhoods, but I figured Regulus knew he deserved more than the way our parents treated him. Now I think Regulus doesn’t know a sodding thing. He was crying last night like he thought I would be mad at him for getting raped.”

Remus isn’t sure what to say to that. He’s never met anyone who’s gone through what Regulus went through.

“Maybe he should talk to someone,” says Remus. He expects pushback from Sirius. He doesn’t get it.

“Okay,” says Sirius.

“Hm?” asks Remus.

Sirius nods and softly says, “I think that’s a good idea.”

They hear the door open a little bit later, and a moment after that, Regulus’ door opens and closes. “I guess he’s home,” says Remus, now dressed in a comfortable pair of joggers and an old t-shirt.  Sirius is sitting next to him on the bed, looking up therapists in the area. The front door opens again, and then there is a small knock at their bedroom door.

“Come in,” says Sirius.

“Regulus is home,”  says James. “I made sure to follow him once he left the park.”

Sirius frowns. “What?” asks Sirius. Remus is just as confused.

“He wanted to be alone, but he was out there by himself. I just left so he couldn’t see me and then followed him home,” says James, shrugging like that wasn’t a weird explanation at all.

“Is he okay?” asks Remus because Sirius is frowning like he’s about to snap at James.

“I ended things,” says James, and he no longer sounds nonchalant. His words are layered with unshed tears. Sirius finally relaxes, he pulls up his legs from where they’re lying on the bed in front of him and pats the mattress. James doesn’t need to be told twice. He climbs onto the bed with them and drops his head into his hands.

“Why did you end things?” asks Remus. His mind is racing with thoughts he doesn’t want to think, and he can only hope that James’ explanation is nothing like what he’s imagining.

“I’m not sure Regulus knows what he wants,” says James miserably. “He let Barty do that to him for—for years presumably, and I’ve been pushy too. Not with that, but in asking him out so early. I should have waited. I think… I think I might be too pushy all the time.”

“That’s not true,” says Remus.

“If any of my exes are to be believed, then you’re wrong. It is true.” James makes a harsh sound like he’s being punched. “He deserves to feel safe, and I won’t force him to live with someone who’s pestering him for more.”

“You’re not moving out?” says Sirius. Remus knows he doesn’t mean it to be a question, but it comes out like that anyway.

“I will if Regulus wants me to,” says James. “You’ll tell him that, won’t you?”

“Tell him yourself,” says Sirius. 

James shakes his head. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me anymore.”

Sirius looks over at Remus helplessly. Remus feels the exact same way, but he refuses to say that. “Just give it time,” says Remus. “Last night was… a lot. I think all of us need some time to recover, Regulus especially.”

Chapter Text

Of all the places Regulus would want to be on a Thursday afternoon, sitting in a clinical psychologist's office is not one of them. The office has buttery yellow walls that make him feel like he's been out in the sun too long, and there is quiet music coming from a speaker in the corner. It overstimulates him, and he feels agitated.

It's been half a week since his entire life blew up in his face. He's barely left his room in that time, which felt like the safest option, but then Sirius barged into his bedroom and announced that the two of them were going to therapy together.

"I don't want to go to therapy," says Regulus.

"Well," says Sirius, looking oddly disappointed, "I think it would be a good idea, and you only have to try it out a few times. If it's not for you, then you can stop."

"So I don't get a choice in the matter?" asks Regulus. He means it to be a petulant, snide thing, like a little kid throwing a tantrum, but Sirius' face pales so quickly that Regulus feels a pang of regret.

"Of course, you have a choice. You always have a choice. You know that, don't you, Regulus?"

Regulus grinds his teeth together. He wasn't trying to reference that, but now Sirius is looking at him like he's about to launch into a pep talk about Regulus' past assaults, and Regulus just doesn't think he can manage something like that.

"I'll go," says Regulus. "Stop looking at me like that."

He doesn't expect Sirius to go with him, not to the therapist's office or an actual appointment.

"You're not coming in with me, are you?" asks Regulus when they walk up to the small hexagonal building.

"I have an appointment too," says Sirius.

"What?"

He isn't lying, which is what Regulus assumes initially. He thinks Sirius is only saying that to get him in the door, but when Regulus goes to check in with the front desk, Sirius says his name too, and the woman working the front desk confirms that they have back-to-back appointments.

"This is weird," says Regulus, now sitting on an overly rigid chair, waiting for the appointment to begin.

"Lots of people go to therapy," says Sirius. He's flipping through a magazine that looks to be about five years old. Regulus doesn't think Sirius is even pausing to read anything. He has a line between his eyebrows like he's stressed.

"Not therapy," corrects Regulus. "It's weird that you're coming too."

Sirius pauses his magazine perusal, then he looks up at Regulus with a frown. "I had a bad childhood, too," says Sirius.

That shuts Regulus up, which he guesses was the intended effect. It angers him that Sirius knows him that well.

"Hello, gentleman," says the therapist. Her name is Poppy Pomfrey, but Regulus doesn't want to get overly familiar with her, given that he doesn’t intend on attending these appointments for very long. He regrets even learning her name. "Which of you would like to go first?"

Regulus keeps his teeth clamped together, so Sirius answers. "I'll go first," says Sirius. He puts a steady hand on Regulus' knee before leaving.

Regulus feels like a fool. It's not an uncommon feeling for him, he's spent a lot of his life feeling like a fool, but it's worse now that he's been brutally dumped by the first person he's ever actually liked, and everyone that matters to him knows that he was brutalized by another man. Shame makes him feel like an open wound. He bites at his lips and picks at the skin around his nails as he waits for Sirius to finish his hour with Poppy. He thinks about leaving quite a bit, but he never does it. He feels guilty enough as it is, he's not going to flake out on this.

When Sirius comes back into the waiting room, his face is blotchy like he's been crying, but he's smiling. Regulus doesn't give him a chance to say anything—because he can tell he's going to, it's so obvious—he just gets up and walks into Poppy's office without a word.

Her office is buttery yellow, just like the waiting room, and Regulus wonders how inappropriate it would be to ask her to repaint the office just for him.

"Regulus," says Poppy, standing to shake his hand. "It's good to meet you."

"You as well," says Regulus politely. It's not her fault that he doesn't want to be here.

She motions for him to sit on the couch across from her. He sits directly in the middle, but he doesn't lie down. He's seen people do that on the telly before, but he doesn't want to get too comfortable.

"Why don't you tell me a bit about why you're here?" Poppy looks like she's the same age as Regulus' mum, maybe in her late fifties, but everything about her is soft. Her body is all soft edges, her eyes are soft like pillows, and her hands are soft the way they press into her thighs. She's not holding anything to take notes. For some reason, that makes Regulus nervous.

"What did Sirius tell you?" asks Regulus.

Poppy smiles. She looks like the kind of woman who could be very harsh if she needed to be. Walburga always looked like the kind of woman who was born harsh and had never figured out how to fix that issue.

"I think it's best if you and I start without his input," says Poppy kindly.

Regulus wonders if that's standard or if Sirius was saying something so vile about him that Poppy doesn't want him to know. Paranoia prickles at his veins and makes him feel like he's being poisoned. When he opens his mouth to speak, he means to brush her away, he means to lock up his secrets as he's been doing, but he's still raw from the passed few days.

So instead, he says, "I was raped repeatedly by my ex-boyfriend and I didn't find out until Saturday."

Poppy doesn’t even blink, so she must already know. ”I see," says Poppy. "And by 'just found out,' you mean…"

"I wasn't aware that it was rape. I thought it was normal. Everyone knows I'm a bloody idiot now." He blows out an embarrassed breath. "Including you, I suppose."

"Why do you think that makes you an idiot?"

"It seems like everyone but me knows what was wrong with Barty. James even—" His throat closes up and he can't get another word out.

"Which one is your ex: Barty or James?"

Regulus stares at her soft eyes like he's staring down the barrel of a tank. "Both of them, now. Barty is the one who—he's the one who hurt me, but James…"

"James?" asks Poppy.

"It was just starting," says Regulus. "It's foolish of me to feel so upset that it's ended. Don't you think?"

Poppy tilts her head slightly, and then she grabs a notepad off her desk. "Why don't you explain the situation to me, and then I'll tell you what I think?"

Sirius doesn't speak much on their way home. They took Remus's car, and it made unpleasant grinding sounds the entire ride back. When they pull up to the flat, Sirius says, "What did you think of her?"

Regulus feels like his throat his raw. He'd gotten frustrated explaining the James situation to Poppy, which feels far more pressing than the Barty nonsense. Poppy looks blandly at him every time he says that, but Regulus doesn't know how she feels.

"I think she's too nice," says Regulus honestly.

Sirius scoffs. "Did you think she'd yell at you or something?"

"Yes," says Regulus before he can stop himself. "Everything that's happened to me is so childish, I feel silly talking to her, and she just lets me go on and on. She barely even said anything."

Sirius gives him a curious look. "What about this is childish to you?"

Regulus groans. He doesn't want to talk about this situation anymore today, or ever. Preferably ever. "Loads of people get broken up with. James and I only went on two dates, it's stupid that I'm this upset."

Sirius stares at him like Regulus has grown a third head.

"What?" asks Regulus. He's irritated, and the yellow walls of the office have given him a headache. He wants to be done with all of this.

"That's what you talked about with her?" asks Sirius incredulously.

Regulus bristles. "Yes," he says.

"You talked about James."

"I'm allowed to talk about whatever I want in there," says Regulus. At least, that's what he assumes. Poppy never stopped him anyway, so he thinks that's the truth.

"I brought you there to talk about what happened to you, not about James—he didn't even break up with you. You weren't together."

Regulus wonders if the front door is unlocked. Maybe he can leave Sirius in the car and just go inside by himself.

"He found out what happened to me and ended things, that seems pretty cut and dry to me," says Regulus.

"He was trying to do the right thing," says Sirius.

Regulus scoffs and feels worse than he's felt all week when tears spring to his eyes. "Of course you would take his side," says Regulus.

Sirius looks bewildered, throwing his hands up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I wish Remus had just let it go," says Regulus. "I wish James didn't know."

Sirius drops his hands onto the steering wheel. "We all saw him beat Barty to hell. It wasn't going to be that easy to hide."

Regulus furiously wipes at his face and says, "But now James knows I'm disgusting, and I actually liked him like an idiot." He growls under his breath. "Can we stop talking about this? I already agreed to go to therapy, I don't want to hash it out with you too."

Sirius doesn't speak, not for a long moment, but Regulus is aggressively trying to get his emotions under control, so he barely notices.

Finally, Sirius says, in a voice so soft it makes Regulus ache, "He doesn't think you're disgusting. He would never think that."

"Then why did he break up with me?" asks Regulus. He's bloody crying again. He wishes he would stop.

"I think you should ask him that," says Sirius after a beat of silence.

Later that night, after Regulus has made sure that he's cried as much as humanly possible, he goes to James' room. Talking to James feels impossibly daunting, but they do live together, and they've spent the last week scurrying out of the room the moment they saw each other. It's not the best situation, and anyway, Sirius seemed very adamant that James's disgust did not play a part in their breakup. Regulus wants to know the truth.

James opens the door only a second after Regulus knocks, as if he's been waiting for him.

"Regulus?" asks James, surprise evident on his face.

"Hi," says Regulus awkwardly. "Could we talk?"

Sirius and Remus aren't in the flat, which is probably the only reason Regulus is brave enough to talk to James. Doing this in front of other people is unthinkable.

"Yeah, of course," says James. He looks back into his bedroom and cringes. "Not in here. I need to clean."

"That's fine," says Regulus, because he's never been in James' bedroom, and the thought that he might only get to see it when they're not together is torturous. They go into the living room, the same place where James found out about Barty and Regulus, and Regulus sits shakily on the couch.

James sits on the chair across from him and looks at him with so much open curiosity that Regulus feels flayed open.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay," says James.

"Sirius mentioned," he pauses to clear his throat. "I thought I knew why you," he pauses, "ended things." He's not sure he's breathing again. "Sirius thinks that I'm wrong about why I think you did it." He feels like all his words are coming out in the wrong order. "I thought maybe, if you wouldn't mind explaining it, I would just ask."

His entire life has to be some kind of evil humiliation ritual. That's the only explanation.

"Oh," says James quietly. "I can tell you. Yeah. I'll tell you."

"Okay," says Regulus. James doesn't speak for a long few moments, so Regulus adds, "Sorry, is now not a good time?"

"No, sorry," says James. "I mean, yes. It's a good time."

"Okay," says Regulus again. James stares at him like he's forgotten what they're talking about. "So…"

"I rushed you," says James, the words coming out in one big jumble.

"Huh?" asks Regulus.

"I rushed you into a relationship," says James. "I feel like I took advantage of you, and after what Barty did, I thought it was unfair that I should expect something from you. Like he did, I mean."

Regulus frowns. "I don't understand."

"You didn't fight back against Barty, and I realized that I had been just as pushy."

"We've never even had sex," says Regulus bluntly. James's cheeks turn pink.

"I don't want that."

"Oh," says Regulus like he's been punched.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, I only want that if you want it and not because I pressured you into it."

Regulus furrows his eyebrows. "But you didn't pressure me into it?"

"I did," says James sadly.

Regulus wonders if James has a different memory than he does. "No," says Regulus slowly, "we've never had sex. How could you have pressured me into having sex if we've never had sex?"

James shakes his head. "Now, I'm confused," mumbles James. "I pressured you into going on a date."

"No, you didn't. I wanted to go on a date with you."

"Right, but the same way you wanted Barty. Like you couldn't say no."

Regulus floods with embarrassment. "I'm not stupid," snaps Regulus. "I know what I like. I never liked anything Barty did. I just didn't know how bad it was. I thought it was normal. I never felt about Barty the way I feel about you." He squeezes his eyes closed. He hadn't meant to say that last bit.

James makes a small sound. "But I was being pushy?" says James, his voice tilting up into a question. He sounds so uncertain, but Regulus is too embarrassed to feel bad for him.

"Not everything is about you, James," says Regulus and stands from the couch, intending on stomping to his bedroom or maybe leaving the flat altogether, but James catches him by the arm. His hand is firm but gentle. Regulus could shake it off if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to. He looks at James expectantly.

"I'm sorry," says James. "I just didn't know. I thought I had taken advantage." Regulus sighs. His chest still feels tight. James softly adds, "I like you too. I don't want to rush anything."

Regulus relaxes. Disappointment still lingers on the edge of his mind, but it's not the heartbreak he was feeling earlier in the day. It's far more tedious, but also more tolerable.

"I don't want to rush either," says Regulus, although he would if James asked him to. If he's going to lose James because he's taking too long, then he would rush. He wonders if that's the kind of thing Sirius wants him to talk about in therapy.

"We could just be friends?" asks James hopefully. "For now."

Regulus doesn't have the heart to tell him that being his friend is just as annoying. What does this mean for them? Is James waiting around for Regulus to be ready? He has no idea what ready means in this situation. What if James starts dating someone else? Friends are supposed to be okay with their friends dating people.

"Friends sounds good," says Regulus with a forced smile. James either doesn't notice or is too sweet to point it out. He drops his hand.

"Good," says James. "I really missed you this week."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After Sirius' second therapy appointment, he comes home unsteady and lost. Remus asks if he needs anything, but Sirius only shakes his head and goes for a nap. When he wakes up, he drags Remus into their room and pulls Remus' trousers off his hips so fast that they nearly tear. Remus yelps before he remembers they don't live alone, and then he bites the back of his hand while Sirius takes him into his mouth.

When they're finished and Remus is boneless on the bed, he says, "What exactly did you talk about in therapy today?"

"I'm not supposed to say," says Sirius with a little laugh.

"Oh, so therapy is like a birthday wish?" asks Remus playfully. Sirius nods his head. He's lying against Remus' naked hip and breathing heavily. "We don't have to talk about it then."

Sirius licks a long stripe up Remus' softening and oversensitive cock. He yelps again.

"You're trying to kill me," says Remus.

"It was just a 'thank you' lick," says Sirius.

"You're a freak," says Remus, shaking with laughter.

Sirius looks up at him, his eyes so soft that Remus could melt into them. "You love it."

Remus grabs Sirius by the hair, right where it meets his scalp, and uses his grip to pull Sirius up so they can kiss. They haven't done this much since Regulus moved in with them. Sirius had been living under a weight of stress so intense that he was getting back problems.

"So, therapy is helping?" asks Remus.

Sirius places his forehead against Remus'. "It's horrible," says Sirius, the playfulness vanishing in an instant, replaced by something raw. "Makes me feel like I'm being torn apart, but I think it's good. I'm supposed to be there."

"I'm sorry," says Remus.

Sirius shakes his head and then kisses Remus again. He grinds down on top of him, effectively ending their conversation.

Remus doesn't know what Sirius talks about in therapy, but he knows it takes a lot of Sirius. He has to nap just about every time. Regulus isn't much better. He spends the entire day in his room after therapy. They both seem a little lighter the day after, though, so Remus tries not to worry.

He very purposefully doesn't worry about the way things with Regulus and James develop over the next few weeks. James tells him that he and Regulus have agreed to only be friends, but he says it with a tiny smile that Remus is sure is meant to be a secret. They start working on the new space for their record store, so James and Regulus end up spending quite a bit of time together every day.

None of that is too worrying, they seem to get along great. Regulus is quite serious while at work, but James seems to pull laughs out of him easily. And James is so busy that he starts talking aloud to himself at random times, but every time he talks to Regulus, his body loosens, and everything calms.

It would all be perfect if Remus didn't feel like he was watching the beginning of a messy car accident.

Regulus and James are friends now, and Sirius is in therapy, talking about something that makes him look like he just witnessed someone die, and every time anyone comes to talk to James, Regulus looks like a kicked puppy and doesn't speak for a full hour.

Remus can feel something brewing, a storm around him he cannot follow, but he knows it's there.

Chapter Text

Regulus is folded into Sirius' friend group with an ease that would have shocked him if he was actually paying attention. His life goes from long moments of emptiness to being so full he barely has time to think. It's not the kind of busy slog that his life used to be when he lived with Barty and worked for Slughorn. It doesn't leave him bone tired and miserable.

Instead, his days are filled with work for the new record store, lunches with Sirius and his friends, parties every other weekend, nights out that almost always end in late night food runs, video games with Peter and Remus, therapy, and, annoyingly, unending thoughts, daydreams, and actual dreams of James Potter.

They're friends now, which is nice and should be fine. Regulus tries to fill fulfilled by it, but every time his thoughts have the space to creep in, he wonders, "Do you still like me? Are you waiting? Are you moving on? When can we be together? Do you even want that anymore?"

James doesn't seem affected, which makes it so much worse. He's nice to Regulus like he's nice to everyone. They spend time together, but rarely alone. And when Regulus complains in therapy about it, Poppy gives push back. (He didn't know that therapists would do that. It feels unprofessional, but then Remus tells him that it's actually extremely common and expected. It doesn't make it anymore welcome, in Regulus' opinion.)

She tells him things like, "You need time to heal and to feel safe before you date again. James is being kind giving you space. You should take this moment in your life to process what happened to you. I think you should take things slow. Perhaps getting some space would be helpful."

Regulus considers stopping therapy every single week. He doesn't want to spend anymore time thinking about Barty. He's out of his life now so it really shouldn't matter. But Sirius seems so pleased that they're both still going so Regulus keeps trying.

He still avoids speaking too much about his past, but when Poppy insists, he mostly talks about his old job or Barty's apartment. He doesn't talk about Barty or his parents, which seem to be the two things Poppy is most interested in.

It's a delicate balance that comes crashing down in one fell swoop.

Regulus has been living with Sirius for nearly six months—time flies when he spends all his time pining for someone he can't have—when they get their first shipment for the record store. There are shelves lining the walls and two long rows of three level cubbies down the center of the store. They've hung posters from bands all over the walls. (Regulus had suggested adding lines of bulbs under each poster to make them seem like they were running a concert hall and was delighted when everyone agreed.)

The store is beautiful and cozy, large chairs sitting in the corner next to a record player so people can listen to records at their leisure, a few seats near the front door for people waiting for their friends and loved ones to shop, and a small espresso machine behind the counter so they can serve coffee. Regulus loves it. He can feel the individual touches from Sirius and all his friends, it's like it was built right out of their souls.

He works mostly in the back office, going through paperwork and placing orders to fill their stock. Peter and James are busy most of the time trying to advertise their upcoming grand opening, it's only a few weeks away now, and Sirius is always meeting with local musicians to try and partner with them. Remus helps them with ideas and some basic admin, but he still works as a professor so he has far less time than the rest of them.

It takes up a lot of time, but when the boxes and boxes of records are delivered, Regulus can feel their success at his fingertips. They've all worked so hard, and he can barely wait to get people in the door to see what they've made. It feels so special to him.

Sirius decides that they should all help unpack the new records so they're all familiar with the store. Regulus agrees, though he finds it odd to be in the building with so many people after mostly working alone for the last few months.

It's nice though. Sirius puts on a record, and he and Peter start loudly signing as everyone tears into the boxes. Remus is with them, though he's sitting in one of the large chairs in the back with a stack of papers on his lap. Mary is planning to work their cash register so she's there to help, and Lily and Pandora tag along to support her, sitting near Remus and periodically bothering him.

They stop for lunch after a few hours of checking each box to make sure they received everything they ordered and after sharing a few beers at a bar down the street, they come back to the store to find two women waiting outside. Regulus thinks they might be prospective customers, curious about when they open, but when the rest of the group react with excitement, Regulus knows he's missing something.

Sirius and Mary jog forward ahead of the group, but the others aren't far behind, wrapping the two women in hugs and yelling happily.

Regulus hangs back because he's never met them, and honestly, he's just got to a place of feeling comfortable with the many people Sirius has introduced him too already. He thinks about slipping around everyone to head back into the store and get back to work, but then Sirius is dislodging from the group and grabbing Regulus by the shoulders, pushing him forward until he's standing in front of the two women.

"Regulus, this is Emmeline," says Sirius, pointing to a woman with a sharp black bob perfectly trimmed to show off her perfect features. She looks like a vampire—ageless and beautiful. "And this is Marlene." The other girl has bleached blonde hair, her dark roots just starting to show. She's looking between Regulus and Sirius like a little kid might stare at animals in the zoo.

"Wow, is this your brother?" asks Marlene.

"Yep!" says Sirius, squeezing Regulus' shoulder once before letting him go.

"Cool!" responds Marlene. She sounds like Sirius, a certain cadence in both of their voices that makes them sound like they're the related ones.

Emmeline holds out a hand decorated with sleek black and silver rings. "It's lovely to meet you, Regulus."

"You too," says Regulus, shaking her hand. He means it too, she seems desperately cool.

"We're here to help out," says Marlene, she grins widely enough that Regulus can see the small jewel she has attached to one of her teeth.

The girls join them in their efforts to unpack and set up the store. The energy is a little more intense than it was before they came but it's not bad. Not at first. Regulus is having a fine time, talking to Mary about how they should organize a specific section, but when he looks up and sees Emmeline and James with their heads bent together like they're sharing secrets, he feels his stomach drop.

He turns away as quickly as he can and tries not to let his feelings show on his face. Mary doesn't seem to notice, she's still in the middle of her sentence, but it's a struggle to continue listening to her.

Regulus tries not to look back, he knows, before he does it, that it's not a good idea, but he can't seem to help himself. His head moves without his permission and in just a few seconds he's looking back over his shoulder to see Emmeline place a delicate hand on James' forearm. James' mouth is hanging open just a little bit as he stares at it.

Regulus wonders if it would be too much overreaction to throw himself in front of bus. It seems like it would be less painful than whatever is going on in his head right now.

"Regulus, are you okay?" asks Mary. She keeps her voice low, a tiny whisper that no one else can here. For all of her dramatic, a side effect of being friends with James and Sirius, no doubt, Mary can be very subtle when she needs to be.

Regulus shakes his head. "I'm fine," he said, his throat bobbing. "I'm going to double check the boxes in the back."

He's shaking when he makes into the back room, but he ignores it. Poppy tells him that this might happen sometimes when he feels unsafe. She calls it a panic attack. Regulus thinks it just makes him weak. No one else seems to be reacting like this. Why can't he just calm down?

He tucks himself behind one of the boxes so he's not visible from the door and tries to calm down. It doesn't work for a long time, but eventually, his heart rate slows and he's able to keep working, his face puffy from crying. He doesn't even remember crying, but he supposes he must have.

It's pathetic, he realizes. He's pathetic. He saw someone attractive touch James's arm and he lost it. Who does that? It's ridiculous.

He rejoins the rest of the group after properly chastising himself, but still breathes a sigh of relief when he finds that James and Emmeline are on opposite sides of the room now. He was probably overreacting, which somehow just makes it worse.

By the time evening rolls around, they've gone through the bulk of the boxes. They probably only need another half day to finish the task.

"Let's go out to dinner," suggests Peter. Everyone can hear the celebration in his tone. Regulus can't explain why he feels nervous, but he ignores it regardless. They stop by the flat first and Regulus changes into a fair new set of denim and a long sleeve shirt. Sirius keeps buying him clothes and he's learned to just accept them. It's easier that way.

They go out to dinner, a nice Indian food restaurant, and end up drinking too many beers. Regulus is warm and full, his anxiety from earlier in the day momentarily forgotten. He's sitting between Peter and Remus. Sybill, Peter's girlfriend, is on Peter's other side, leaning over him so she can tell Regulus about her job working for a clothing designer.

She's entertaining and he wonders why they don't see her more often.

They close down the restaurant, spending hours sitting around a large circular table. No one seems keen on going home although Regulus could use the sleep, so they end up walking for twenty minutes to reach some bar Regulus has never been to. They're playing old music, maybe from the 70s or 80s. He doesn't know.

He lets Sirius buy him a drink and he pretends to dance when Mary insists he come with her to the dance floor, but mostly he enjoys being untethered for a while.

At some point, he's standing in a group with Lily, Peter, and Pandora, enjoying the music and sipping from the drink in his hand. He's pleasantly drunk and little lightheaded when James suddenly walks by and grabs him by the hand. A line of fire crawls up Regulus' arm, a smile plastering over his dazed face.

Where is James leading them? He laughs, excitement jumping in his stomach, but his laugh draws James' attention and he turns around looking confused, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Oh, sorry, no," slurs James, his words a mess of syllables. Regulus' heart drops, his face paling as James holds up his now empty hands. "My bad."

"James! Over here!"

Regulus already knows who's yelling, he only has to press up on his toes to see Emmeline standing by the backdoor, a pack of smokes in her hands, to confirm it. James doesn't even look back before heading toward her.

What was that about? Regulus doesn't know.

Regulus doesn't know how he gets home. He's in the bar, feeling like he might suffocate and then he's back at the flat, stumbling to the bathroom and ripping his clothes from his body. He turns the shower on until its scalding hot, until it hurts to stand under it.

Would they spend the night together? The thought fills his head unbidden and he has to dig his nails into the flesh of his thighs to make it go away. The sting of pain is a relief, he's been trying to keep himself from picking at his skin recently, but this is so much better. He tears at his skin with his nails until blood pools under the surface and long scratch marks decorate his thighs.

Then he does the same to his torso, then his arms. The hot water makes the pain worse, but he can't stop because no one can ever love him now. It doesn't matter because no one will ever see his body again. No one will ever want him. At least Barty wanted him. It wasn't the right kind of want, but it was something.

His stomach twists as he pictures James and Emmeline again and he has to jump out of the shower to make it in time to vomit in the toilet.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus wonders if he should propose.

He's properly drunk, but Sirius is twirling Pandora around and laughing every time she says something clever and he looks so beautiful like this, lighter than he's been in months, the dark circles that used to seem permanent under his eyes finally gone. He comes home from therapy lately to tell Remus about what he learned like he's a good little student.

Over the last month, Sirius has been working through some of the issues that caused them to break up a few times when they were idiot teenagers. Remus barely thinks about those times anymore, so he hadn't realized how much they were bothering Sirius. It turns out, as Sirius tells him one day, that Sirius was still under the impression that he didn't quite deserve Remus because of how he used to act.

Foolish, foolish man, Remus thinks.

They've always deserved each other, and anyway, Sirius has long since apologized for his behavior. Despite his issues with his family, he grew into a man who could take criticism and internalize it enough to never make the same mistake again.

Remus wants to marry him.

He wants to marry him enough that he wonders if a jewelry store is open right now. He could buy a ring and propose tonight.

He stands and stumbles outside to the back patio of the bar. He'll need someone to go with him. James knows what kinds of rings Sirius likes, he can help. He finds James smoking a cigarette with Emmeline and Marlene.

"Naughty, naughty," chides Remus, shaking his finger to scold them for smoking.

They all laugh, but then Marlene says, "Christ, you're drunk." Remus nods.

"I think Sirius and I should get married," announces Remus.

James grins while Emmeline tilts her head back to laugh. "You're all so romantic now. Peter and Sybill talking about children, Remus talking about marriage, and James with his sweet little crush on Baby Black."

James' face is mostly filled with his unashamed grin, even though he'd told Sirius and Remus that he and Regulus were taking things very slow until Regulus was ready to date again. "He's so handsome," says James, to no one in particular. His eyes get that far away look Remus knows too well.

"You're drunk," Remus informs him.

James bobs his head in a nod. "Yeah, but so're you," slurs James.

"You're both drunk," says Emmeline. "We should probably start trying to get people home."

"I need to go buy a ring for Sirius," says Remus, frowning so they know he's serious—Sirius—ha. He's laughing as Marlene pushes him back into the bar, hooking her arm through his so they can find Sirius who is jerkily dancing by himself, Pandora off with her girlfriends.

"Come on," says Marlene, grabbing Sirius. "It's time for bed."

"Aw, but I'm having fun," pouts Sirius. His face breaks into a grin when he spots Remus in Marlene's arm, and he jumps forward to kiss him roughly. Remus catches him easily. He's having a good week, barely in any pain.

Somehow they make it out of the bar, James closing their tab and stumbling out onto the street behind them.

The girls drag them back to the flat, but they don't follow them in. Sirius is trying to unlock the door, and James and Remus are leaning on the wall on opposite sides of the door, giggling stupidly at each other.

"One day, Regulus is going to be my wife," says James.

Remus giggles. Sirius says, "Stop saying weird things, I'm trying to get this key to work."

"I'm never going to have a wife," says Remus.

"Oh, no, me neither," says James, shaking his head. "A husband though." He sighs dreamily. "Yeah, a husband."

"Got it," says Sirius, falling forward as the door unlatches. Remus has to pull him up off the ground, but the muscles under his clothes feel hot enough that Remus doesn't want to let him go.

"I'm going to bed," says James, nearly tripping over the couch as the walks back to his room.

Remus pulls Sirius against him and kisses him until they're both breathless. They act like they're sneaking back to their bedroom, as if they're not alone, but when they pass the bathroom door, Sirius pauses.

The door is just slightly ajar, the sound of the shower coming from inside, but Remus can hear the smallest noise of misery.

"Forgot," says Sirius. "I'm terrible." Remus doesn't have time to respond before Sirius opens the door without knocking. Remus looks down to see a very naked Regulus resting with his head on the toilet seat. His skin is covered in scratch marks, but he looks like he's passed out. Remus doesn't think he's ever sobered up as fast as he does in that moment.

Chapter Text

“You’re going back to therapy.”

Regulus crosses his arms over his chest. Did he really have to be naked when Sirius and his boyfriend found him? “I’m already going to therapy. I go every week.”

“Well, it’s not working obviously,” says Sirius. He’s pacing Regulus’ room while Regulus sits on the bed like a child being lectured. He feels like a child being lectured.

Remus is standing near the door, looking like he is about to say, ‘I’m not angry with you, I’m just disappointed.’ Regulus can’t bring himself to make eye contact with either of them. He’s wearing pajamas now—Sirius’, as if he doesn’t have a dresser full of his own that Sirius bought for him—which makes him feel less vulnerable, but he can’t escape the anger on Sirius’ face, and that’s so much worse.

“Sirius, you can’t say that,” says Remus.

Sirius turns to him with a snarl. Remus looks wholly unaffected, a tender frown on his lips.

“You saw him!” shouts Sirius.

Regulus is afraid he might sob, so he clenches his arms as tightly as he can, like that will hold it in.

“Stop yelling,” implores Remus. He takes a step toward Sirius, but Sirius flinches like a wild animal, and Remus pauses. “You have to calm down. This isn’t helping.”

Sirius reacts like he’s been struck, his face racing through a complicated set of emotions before settling on frustration and leaving Regulus’ room. Regulus can’t bear to watch him go. He can’t stand being a disappointment, especially not to Sirius. He curls forward slightly, expecting Remus to follow Sirius out of the room, but after a moment of silence, he hears Remus sigh.

When Remus touches Regulus lightly on the ankle, Regulus jumps, finally glancing up to see Remus sitting on the side of the bed.

“He’s just upset, he’ll calm down.”

“I didn’t mean for him to see,” says Regulus. His lip wobbles, and he bites down on it harshly.

“You don’t have to answer me,” says Remus, which Regulus doesn’t understand at first, not until he continues to speak. “But what happened tonight?”

Regulus tries to answer, but the sob from earlier is still begging to come out. He shakes his head a few times like he might be able to shake it free before finally answering. “It’s stupid,” says Regulus.

“Stupid how?”

“You’re going to think I’m pathetic,” says Regulus. More pathetic.

“I would never think that. I know what it’s like to suffer where everyone can see it. Trust me, I would never judge you.”

Regulus isn’t sure if he believes him, but it’s not like he can talk to Sirius about this. Not that he really wants to. “It’s James.”

Remus squeezes his ankle comfortingly. “What about him?”

“He’s not mine,” says Regulus, as if he’s reminding him.

A pause and then, “Okay?”

“But seeing him tonight with that girl, I just—it was just too much. I couldn’t handle it.”

“What girl? Emmeline?”

Regulus shrugs and stares at the wall. He doesn’t want to see how Remus reacts to her name. “Whatever her name was,” grumbles Regulus.

Remus makes a thoughtful noise, somewhere between a hum and a pursed lip, then he says, “I’m not sure I should tell you this, because honestly, the problem feels bigger than tonight, but there is nothing going on between James and Emmeline.”

Regulus finally looks back at him. “There’s not?”

Remus shakes his head. “They’re just friends. I’m pretty sure James was outside talking her ear off about you.”

“Oh,” breathes Regulus, his arms loosening, the panic from earlier swiftly being replaced with embarrassment. “I didn’t realize.”

Remus doesn’t say anything for a long moment, not until he pulls his hand away and tucks it under his own thigh like he’s trying to give Regulus space. “Can I ask you another intrusive question?”

“I guess,” says Regulus.

Remus peers at him curiously. “What do you talk to your therapist about?”

Regulus flushes. “Normal stuff, I guess. James mostly, Sirius sometimes.”

“But not about…” He doesn’t appear capable of saying it. Regulus rolls his eyes.

“Not you too,” Regulus says.

“Sirius already spoke to you about this?”

“I don’t want to talk about Barty. That’s all over. He’s not even in my life anymore. I don’t know why I need to waste time complaining about the man.”

Remus laughs, a tiny little thing. It surprises Regulus enough that he clicks his mouth closed.

“I wish it were that simple,” says Remus.

“What do you mean?”

“Things that happen to us, they stick around, they don’t just go away because they’re not happening anymore.” Remus swallows. “Trust me, I know.”

Regulus wonders if this is how he sounds when he’s working at the school.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you want to move on with your life, and believe me, Regulus, I really want you to,” says Remus. His eyes slide to Regulus’ bedroom door while he says it, and Regulus knows he must be thinking about Sirius. “But you won’t be able to if you don’t deal with it.”

Regulus huffs. “I guess.”

Remus looks impossibly tired, and Regulus wonders if he’s being a disappointment again. “You should try it. I know it’s not fun, but if you open yourself up to it, it might surprise you.”

Regulus doesn’t want to take what Remus said to heart. He’s terrified of what will happen if he opens that door. But later that night, after Remus leaves him to get some sleep, Sirius sneaks back into Regulus’ room and squeezes his arm tightly.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” says Sirius. “I was just upset at the situation. You’re still my favorite brother.”

And Regulus thinks, fine, I’ll try.

“What do you want to talk about today, Regulus?” asks Poppy. She starts every week like this, and Regulus has grown to appreciate the consistency, though it always makes him feel a little on edge. It’s like he needs to be prepared with something, and he needs to be able to direct the conversation.

“I think I’m ready to tell you about Barty,” says Regulus. It isn’t what he wants to say, but he promised to try, and so he tries.

Poppy gives him a bland look, there is no jumping around in surprise or clapping like she’s been expecting this the whole time. It’s just the same calm acceptance she reacts with every time. Regulus doesn’t take it personally, though there is a part of him that wants to. He’s used to the big reactions of other people.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

So Regulus does, he starts from the first time he met Barty. He unravels the complicated way they’d come back into each other’s lives after Regulus’s parents kicked him out. It’s a painful memory, that rejection he was faced with, but it’s easier to feel it now that he knows Sirius is sitting right outside, waiting to take him to a home he’s actually welcome at.

He doesn’t get very far that first day. The story about Barty is more difficult to tell than he would have expected, and there are a lot of details, so many that it feels like he must have imagined some of them, but they’re all there in his head, replaying like a television he can’t find the remote for.

They only make it to the first time Barty slapped him, just a light tap, laughed off like it was nothing. Regulus hadn’t known to be afraid of him then, and things were still friendly, their periodic sexual encounters infrequent enough that Regulus even looked for them.

There was a presumption, he realizes as he lays it all out for Poppy, that he wouldn’t say no if Barty asked. It didn’t feel wrong at the time, but it makes him feel worthless now.

“I slept with him so I would have a place to live,” confesses Regulus. “That makes me whore, doesn’t it?”

Poppy weighs his words before responding. “I don’t believe so, but even if it did, doing what you have to do to survive doesn’t make you any less. I’m sure you wouldn’t feel that way if anyone you care about had to go through the same thing.”

Regulus chews on that all the way back to the flat. He thinks about Sirius or Remus living through the relationship with Barty, but he can't seem to make sense of it in his head. It doesn't quite make sense to him. He can't imagine them being as trapped as he was. They would have found a way out. Wouldn't they?

He's afraid that he has a habit of being consumed by his problems, and this is just another example of that. He let Barty hurt him for far too long, and then he dragged his feet with the therapist and waited until his brother was ranting and raving in his room to finally talk to her.

He stays quiet all through dinner as he rolls the thoughts around in his head, and when Sirius invites him to watch a movie with them after they all eat, he politely declines. He knows they must be curious, they’re all giving him way too much space to be anything but aware of what he’s working through. It makes him nervous, but he tries not to let it bother him too much.

The next few days are filled with work at the record store. Regulus goes in early and leaves late, he stays even as Sirius, James, Peter, and Mary come by to check on him. He sorts all the records a few times, double and triple checking his inventory just to keep his thoughts stay quiet.

When the new computer system arrives, he spends hours setting up their cash registers, and then he spends the rest of the week individually adding barcodes to each of the records.

He only leaves work when he’s too hungry and tired to keep going, but it feels good to be tired from it. It feels good to see something he’s building come together in front of him. It’s not like the mindless work that Slughorn put together for him. This part is rewarding because it feels like his.

He goes back to the therapy the next week, and his leg shakes harshly as he waits for Sirius to finish his appointment. When Sirius comes back into the waiting room, his eyes are slightly red like he’s been crying. Regulus sits up, worried despite himself, but Sirius smiles at him and slaps him on the back playfully.

“Do you want to start where we left off?” asks Poppy when Regulus sits down.

“Why was my brother crying?” Regulus can’t help but ask. He knows she isn’t going to answer.

“You’ll have to ask him that,” says Poppy. “Now —”

“Isn’t it kind of unethical to see both of us?” asks Regulus. He doesn’t mean to say it exactly, it just swims to the top of his head, and he accidentally blurts it out. Poppy gives him a grin.

“It can be, in some situations. If I felt like it would be detrimental to one or both of you, I would send one of you to one of my colleagues, but at present, I don’t see an issue.”

“Oh,” mumbles Regulus. “Sorry.”

“No need,” says Poppy kindly. “Now, back to what we were talking about.”

He realizes over the next two appointments that Poppy was going easy on him during those first sessions, she was letting him get comfortable with her, but now that he’s begun talking about Barty, she never lets up. She doesn’t let him get off track even a little bit. She directs them through the storm that was Barty until finally they reach the end of the story.

They’re about halfway through the story when the nightmares start. Regulus doesn’t think they will, but Poppy warns him that digging into therapy can sometimes cause a swell of bad memories. She compares it to someone opening a door to a house fire, the oxygen rushing in causing an explosion of fire.

Regulus feels mostly fine, though he’s working himself hard enough that he doesn’t have to think too much. It’s not until he wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling of Barty’s fingers digging into his skin that Regulus realizes things are far from resolved.

He doesn’t scream as he wakes, not even a peep, but his heart is racing and his ears are ringing. He tosses himself off the bed without meaning to and shakes endlessly on the floor for several long minutes.

By the time he calms down, he feels like an idiot. It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.

Another hour passes before he can fall back asleep, but he doesn’t have another nightmare that night. He thinks it might be over until the next night when the same thing happens. The dream is slightly different, but the feeling is the same.

He shakes and shakes, wishing he could claw at his skin without feeling guilty. Barty’s beer-tainted breath still settles on the back of Regulus’ neck, his fingers still causing that pinch of pain as they insistently dig into him.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters to himself. He feels like he’s still there, like he’s still being pinned down to an unmade bed, moaning so Barty wouldn’t get any angrier. He’d done that so much early on, but he’d forgotten to mention it to Poppy.

Would she think less of him now knowing that he acted like he wanted it?

The thought of anyone finding out about the way he used to moan Barty’s name because it made him feel less afraid terrifies him. Sometimes he would grab Barty’s free hand, the one settled on the bed next to Regulus’ head, so it was like they meant more to each other than they really did. It made it feel less violent, he realizes. It wasn’t so bad if he just let it happen. It was barely even unwanted if he let Barty hold him afterward.

Like the cringey memories from awkward adolescence, Regulus gets flashes of the mornings when he would make Barty breakfast, acting like a housewife as if he wasn’t still twinging with pain.

Anything to keep Barty’s hands off of him, anything so he didn’t have to hear him grunting.

He hits himself hard on the side of the head to dislodge the thoughts and then feels so guilty about it that he pulls out his phone and writes down a note to remind himself to tell Poppy. He won’t tell her without the reminder, even though he’s doing better and telling her about his past, and he’s pretty sure this is the kind of thing she needs to know about.

He has four more nightmares over the next four nights, each one somehow worse than the last.

On that fourth night, his lips smack loudly together as he tries to pull in a steady breath. He grabs blindly for the bottle of water he keeps next to his bed, but he finds it empty. He can’t remember the last time he filled it.

The flat is chilly when he pads out of his room in search of hydration. It shouldn’t be this cold, summer is on its way, and they’ve had more than a few warm, muggy days that could heat the flat, but somehow a chill still permeates. He shivers slightly and hurries down the hall and around the living room to the kitchen.

He’s lived there long enough to know his way around in the dark, and he isn’t expecting anything but shadow, so the light spilling from the kitchen surprises him.

“Sirius?” calls Regulus, stepping around the corner to see that the light is coming from the fridge. Someone is bent behind the door, and Regulus’s voice must startle them because they jump in surprise and then yelp when their head connects with the top of the fridge.

When James pops his head up a second later, Regulus laughs.

“Sneaking treats?” asks Regulus.

James chuckles. He’s rubbing the back of his head, and it’s making his already messy hair look even messier, like a dog shaking out its hair. “Yeah,” says James. “I woke up hungry.” His eyes glance down at Regulus’s body before lifting back to his eyes. Regulus was sleeping in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts, nothing too scandalous, but he suddenly feels oddly exposed. He’s momentarily surprised by the fact that that feeling doesn’t scare him. “Why are you up?”

He’s not sure what makes him say it. He and James have been keeping their conversations torturously light since the night they went to the bar with Marlene and Emmeline. It’s not that Regulus doesn’t want to talk to him more, but he also doesn’t want to scare James away.

So it’s unclear to him why, when he opens his mouth, the first thing he says is, “I had a nightmare.”

James’ hand drops, and a frown sinks into his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Regulus shrugs. “It’s okay,” says Regulus. “I just got up to get some water.”

“Oh, yeah,” replies James. He steps away from the fridge to let Regulus through. Regulus gives him a small smile and grabs the pitcher of cold water from the fridge, filling up his water bottle and downing half of it in a few large gulps. When he finally feels watered enough, he sets the bottle down and looks around the kitchen, expecting James to be gone, but he’s still standing right next to Regulus, watching him with a torn expression.

“What?” asks Regulus. He doesn’t sound insecure, he doesn’t think, but he feels it.

“Nothing,” says James, shaking his head slightly. “You were really thirsty.”

“It was quite a dream,” says Regulus. He’s only partially joking.

James chews on his bottom lip. Regulus finds it distracting, but he tries not to let his eyes linger on it. He watches as James' eyebrows pull together in concern, and he wonders what's coming next.

"Do you want to talk about them?" asks James, so soft that it feels like feathers dusting against Regulus' skin.

He is surprised to find that the answer is yes. He doesn't want to tell Sirius, the thought of explaining his memories turned dreams to his brother makes his skin crawl, but somehow telling James doesn't feel that bad. He thought he would be embarrassed, but somehow that shame is nowhere to be found.

"It's quite a lot," warns Regulus.

James shrugs like that doesn't bother him, but his eyes come to life, as if he's happy Regulus said yes. It surprises Regulus a bit, the idea that James would want to hear about something so awful. It is only in reversing their roles that Regulus finds any understanding. If something painful was haunting James' dreams, Regulus would want to be the person he turned to.

"Want to sit down?" asks James, pointing to the kitchen table.

"Yeah," says Regulus, "but not out here. I don't want to wake anyone."

"O-okay," says James. Regulus wasn't lying, he really doesn't want to wake anyone, but he still burns with nervousness as he leads James into his bedroom. He sits on the edge of his bed and breathes a slight sigh of relief when James sits next to him, but an arm's length apart, like he knows Regulus needs a little space.

He doesn't allow himself to think about the fact that they're sitting in bed together for long. He closes his fingers around the sheets clinging to the edge of his mattress and tells James everything he remembers from his dream.

He doesn't mince words, though he wonders if he should. James listens patiently, he doesn't interrupt, and he barely reacts when Regulus gets to the really bad stuff.

When Regulus’ hands start to shake, James reaches across the space between them and tangles their fingers together.

Talking to James isn't like talking to Poppy. He's not trying to find answers or unwrap himself from the labyrinth of suffering he'd endured in Barty's flat. Talking to James feels like putting pressure on a wound reopened from therapy's meddling. It hurts at times, but there is relief to it.

"I'm so sorry," says James when Regulus finishes speaking. "You didn't deserve to live through that."

Regulus gives him a pained smile. He's not sure about what he deserves, but he doesn't want to linger on it.

"Thank you," says Regulus instead. He lets himself squeeze James' fingers and feels himself smile when James squeezes back.

James grins at him, but then his eyes settle on the window behind Regulus. "Oh," breathes James. "It's morning."

Regulus glances over to see a small bit of light coming in through the open blinds. He can't remember what time he got out of bed after his nightmare, but he has to assume they've been talking for a while.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up for so long."

James shakes his head. "Don't worry," says James. "I'm really glad we got to talk." He pauses and then says. "I've missed talking to you."

Regulus tilts his head questioningly. He sees James every day, so he's not sure how James could miss him.

"You're always so busy," answers James. "I just miss you."

There is a hollow wound threatening to open in Regulus' chest. His first instinct is to ignore it, but at the last second, he decides to honor it by saying, "I miss you too."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Regulus gets worse before he gets better. Following the night when Remus and Sirius found him crumpled on the bathroom floor, Sirius starts to spend several hours a week worrying about what's going on in his brother's head.

Remus understands, he really does, he just doesn't think it's any of their business what's going on in Regulus's head. Though Remus could never guess what Regulus is thinking as he throws himself into work at the record store, he knows for a fact that he's trying, likely more than he was before the bathroom incident.

He goes to therapy with Sirius and locks himself away for the rest of the day each week. He works hard, but he always makes an effort to spend time with all of them. He's polite, perhaps overly so, but Remus thinks that must be expected.

Regulus seems, overall, to be adjusting well, but he gets quieter and quieter until he barely makes a sound. He starts having sleep troubles, which Remus only notices from the growing dark circles under his eyes. He starts to get so lost in his head that even someone speaking directly to him doesn't register.

Sirius is terrified that he's getting sicker, and Remus doesn't know how to help.

It's not like he can make a guarantee of Regulus's recovery. None of them knows how Regulus is going to act in the future, not even Regulus. All they can do now is wait. Wait and give Regulus the space and safety he didn't have before.

"Why don't we take a bath?" asks Remus one night. Sirius had gone to therapy that day, and he'd been napping off and on for most of the afternoon. He's grumpy by the time dinner rolls around, and the looming record store opening is making them all antsy.

"I need to get some work done," says Sirius, sitting at the kitchen table with an array of loose papers spread out in front of him. He's working hard to make sure their grand opening is a success. It's less than a week away now, and every free moment Sirius has away from worrying about Regulus, he spends worrying about the record shop.

Remus knows it's going to be a success because if it isn't, he's not sure Sirius will survive its failure intact.

He places a hand on the back of Sirius' neck and kneads the tense muscles there. Sirius relaxes into him slightly, breathing out a loud sigh.

"That feels good," mumbles Sirius.

"Take a bath with me," whispers Remus. He grabs Sirius’ hand where it sits on the table, a pen nervously clicking with each twitch of Sirius' fingers. Remus replaces that pen with his fingers until Sirius is gripping him a little too tightly. "Please."

Sirius breathes deeply through his nose, blowing it out through his mouth like he's trying to force himself into a state of calm.

"Yes," agrees Sirius. Remus pulls him up from the table without asking and all but drags him to their bathroom. Their bathtub isn't very large, even Remus has trouble fitting in it when he's by himself, but they make it work when they have to. Besides, it couldn't hurt to have Sirius close tonight.

Remus runs the water a tad too hot, knowing it will cool quickly in their chilly apartment. Sirius sits on the closed toilet and watches Remus with a dazed and tired expression. He seems exhausted, and Remus wants to force him to bed so he'll sleep, but he knows that Sirius is too keyed up to let that happen.

The water burns when Remus settles into it, Sirius sitting between his spread legs and leaning back against his chest. Both of their skin turns bright red under the heat, but it's a relief for Remus's sore joints.

"If the opening doesn't go well, people won't come back," says Sirius.

Remus shakes his head slightly and then runs his fingers through Sirius' hair, his nails against his scalp.

"No work talk in the bath," says Remus.

Sirius snorts. "Is that a new rule?"

"That's always been the rule," says Remus.

"It wasn't the rule when you spent our last bath giving me a lecture about your co-workers."

Remus scoffs and says, "It wasn't a lecture."

Sirius laughs.

"It was just a long talk. Anyway," he hurries to add, "it's the rule now. No work talk."

Sirius is still grinning when he says, "Fine. What would you like to talk about then?"

Remus shrugs slightly. "We don't have to talk about anything."

Sirius shifts against him. "Oh, yeah," says Sirius, mischief in every word. "What do you want to do instead?"

"Not that either," says Remus.

Sirius turns his head slightly so they can make eye contact. "Really?"

Remus can't help but smile. "Well, maybe, but not right now."

Sirius sighs dramatically. "Whatever you say," says Sirius.

They fall into silence for a bit, but when Sirius speaks again, he sounds lightheaded. "We need a bigger bathtub," says Sirius.

Remus hums thoughtfully. "You're not wrong. Not sure a bigger one would fit in this bathroom though."

Sirius' hands linger under the surface of the water, the tips of them dancing past Remus' thighs.

"No, we'd have to live somewhere new."

"New?"

"Somewhere bigger," clarifies Sirius. "You know, if things work out."

Remus can feel something circling in Sirius' head, a thought Remus can't access yet. "What things?"

"Like with the shop," says Sirius. "And Reggie, you know if he and James..."

"Oh," says Remus, wrapping an arm around Sirius' chest to pull him a little closer. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Sirius shifts slightly as if he's trying to get closer, as if they're not already skin to skin. "You think so?"

"Sure," says Remus. "If it all works out. Maybe," he pauses, "maybe we could find a place just for us."

"I love living with Regulus and James," says Sirius. It's not defensive exactly, but it's almost like he's trying to convince Remus.

"I know. I do too."

"So only if it works out."

Remus can't stop himself from placing a kiss against Sirius' cheek. "If it works out."

Chapter Text

The day before they opened the record store, Regulus goes to therapy and finally talks about something other than his past with Barty.

"Do you think I'm ready to date James?" asks Regulus. Poppy opens her mouth and Regulus interrupts her to say, "And don't say 'what do I think' because I want to ask him out and I'm afraid I'm not ready and just don't realize it."

Poppy laughs softly. "I think that's a very self-aware thought."

"But?" prompts Regulus.

"An important part of moving on with a partner is being able to trust yourself," says Poppy. "You've done a lot of work to unpack your trauma. The next step is being able to feel safe in the future."

"I feel safe with James," says Regulus instantly, almost like a knee-jerk reaction. It's true though, he feels safer with him than he does with nearly everyone.

"That's good," says Poppy. "Then I think you have your answer."

"Do I have to stop seeing you if things work out with James?"

Poppy chuckles. "No," says Poppy. "In fact, even though you're ready to take this next step, I believe we still have more work to do together."

"Yeah?" asks Regulus and is surprised to find how relieved he feels. He begrudged having to go to therapy in the beginning, but now, he couldn't picture going a week without it. Going through every bad moment with Barty made him feel crazy at first, but now it made him feel lighter. Not having it all trapped in his memories brought solace to his mind.

"Yes," says Poppy.

When Regulus goes to leave, Poppy says goodbye by wishing him good luck. He gives her a thumbs up, but nervousness he hadn't felt yet blooms in his stomach.

That night, he sits around his brother's dinner table with everyone who helped them open the record store. Their grand opening is tomorrow, and tonight feels like the final moment before everything changes. Regulus has been changing every day for months, breaking apart and reforming again and again since the day he searched out his brother. He feels from everyone cramped around that table that they are on the precipice of something, but Regulus is in the eye of it.

James sits next to him, their chairs pushed so close together that their arms keep brushing. There is hardly enough room for them all to fit, but Regulus wouldn't dare complain about it, not when he gets to keep James so close. He smells like cedar and something sweet, like cinnamon baking into bread. Regulus wants to lean his head in and drift away in that smell.

"I've ordered the food to be ready at noon so it can all be set up once we open," says Sirius. His long, misshapen hair is pulled back into a bun on the back of his head. He's already lost two pens to that bun, both of them sticking out at odd angles as Sirius chews on a third that he found in the kitchen. His lips are bitten and red, and his shoulders are hunched from the weeks of hard work.

A lot is riding on this, and they're all feeling the pressure, but no one more so than Sirius.

Remus has been worrying about him the entire time, but tonight, he looks elated, like he knows the end is near. Regulus thinks it'll just get worse after the store opens, but he's kept that thought to himself. He worries about his brother's health, too, but he knows he has to figure it out for himself.

"We know," says Remus with a soft laugh so silky it sounds like it belongs in a bedroom rather than a kitchen. Regulus cringes violently before reminding himself to fix his face.

James, who must have already been watching him, laughs. Regulus glances at him, his cheeks heating with embarrassment, but James' smile soothes him as it always does. They've been spending more and more time together as the grand opening approached, but somehow Regulus feels like it's never enough. When he goes to bed by himself, he misses James' presence, as if he's not down the hallway, a simple knock away.

Those late-night feelings are what made him finally decide that he was ready to ask James out. He didn't think he would get there. It kept feeling like there was something in his way, but every time James grinned at him or made him laugh or placed a friendly hand on his arm or leaned a little closer so they could be face to face, Regulus would wonder, "Am I ready yet?"

Though Poppy has given him the seal of approval he requested from her, he still worries that he's not quite there.

He's been fantasizing about James now for months, and he's terrified that if he reaches out too early, it might blow up in his face and he'll lose James for good. He doesn't think he'll be able to survive it if that happens.

"Are you excited?" asks James, his voice low like they're the only two in the room, like his simple question is only meant for Regulus' ears.

Regulus nods. "Yes, but I doubt I'll get much sleep for the next few months."

James laughs softly. "Like raising a newborn."

"Exactly," agrees Regulus.

"Oh no, I forgot to order plates," shouts Sirius, startling all of them. Remus' eyes widen, but he calms almost instantly, placing a hand on the back of Sirius' neck like he's trying to pull him out of a state of shock.

"That's because I ordered them, remember?" asks Remus.

Sirius' chest moves with every pant, his face still filled with panic, but it slowly clears. Regulus can't help but wonder if this is how others see him, this disregulation from their terrible childhood reprinted onto their adult faces.

"Even if we forget anything, we can always run to the store tomorrow. It's not like it's a holiday," says Mary, and though she means it to be comforting, Sirius gives her a look that clearly means if anything is forgotten, Sirius will take it as a personal failure. She tosses her hands up and says, "I'm just saying."

"I'm sure it'll be amazing," says Pandora. She's been over nearly every day to work on the artwork that's now hanging in the record store. They didn't have enough space for all of it, so many of her leftover pieces were piled in Regulus' bedroom. He's secretly hoping no one asks about them so he can keep them for himself.

He knew that Pandora was a multi-talented individual, but he truly believed that she was meant to be a painter. It was her latest niche interest, but Regulus dreaded the day she gave it up, just as she had with the restaurant she was running when he first met her.

"I agree," says James, his hand bumps into Regulus' thigh as he moves to raise it above the table, offering Pandora a high five, which she accepts aggressively.

Regulus' thigh tingles where James touched him, and the smile that's been tugging at his lips the entire night finally feels undeniable.

"When is everyone getting there tomorrow?" asks Remus. His hand is still on Sirius’ neck, his fingers moving like he's kneading the muscles there. Sirius seems wholly unaffected, as if he can't even feel it. He's staring narrow-eyed at their schedule for the next week.

Sirius nods. "Yes, let's go through it all again."

A collective groan erupts around the table, but with a dark look from Sirius, they all fall silent again.

The next day passes in a haze. Regulus wakes up at the crack of dawn and doesn’t stop moving until well after midnight. His heart races as the line forms outside their record shop, and when James finally unlocks the front door, they are all busy until the doors lock again well after their typical closing time.

“We sold more than half our stock today,” remarks Remus. He had to leave in the middle of the day, his arthritis becoming too much after standing for too long, but he came back late in the evening and rejoined them.

“Regulus already started a restock order. We can place it tomorrow,” says James. “Right, Sirius?”

Sirius, who likely hadn’t slept a full night since they started working on the record shop, was now sitting in one of the comfy chairs meant for guests, his head resting on his hand, propped up on the armrest, a quiet snore coming from his open mouth. He doesn’t even react to James’ statement.

“How are we going to get him home?” asks Remus. Regulus can tell that he’s trying to sound concerned, but it keeps getting ruined by the delightful mixture of entertainment and fondness on his face.

“I guess we could carry him,” says Mary. Her sentence is interrupted by a yawn, her mouth stretching open wide. “Or you guys can. I’m going home.” She doesn’t wait for a response before slipping out the front doors, locking them tightly behind her. Pandora is waiting in a car out front for her. She’d spent a full hour in the record shop that afternoon, but quickly got overwhelmed by how many people were there, and Lily had insisted on taking her home.

Remus blinks tiredly as he watches her go before turning his eyes back on Sirius. “I’ll have to wake him. Are you two sticking around for a while?”

Regulus is about to respond that yes, he’ll be there for at least another hour or two. He needs to go through everything they sold and make sure they’re prepared for their second day being open, but before he can explain this, James responds.

“No, we’re heading back.”

“We are?” asks Regulus.

James gives him a small smile that Regulus thinks means he’s being forbidden from working anymore. He almost feels insulted, but he’s also strangely touched. It’s probably for the best anyway. He was trying to read some of his notes a moment earlier and kept having trouble making sense of the words.

“I’ll meet you back there,” says Remus, barely looking at them.

Regulus packs up all of his notes in the back office and leaves through the front door. James is waiting for him under the streetlamp right out front. He looks worn and tired, but his face is soft, the relief of having a good day resting around his shoulders like a blanket.

“Some day,” says Regulus, a smile he can’t control filtering through his words.

“Yeah,” says James. He swallows, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second, before he says. “I’m really glad you were here for it. I don’t think we could have done it without you.”

Regulus laughs softly. “Probably not. Sirius would have worked himself into an early grave if I weren’t here.” He pauses, then adds, “He might do that anyway.”

James’ lips purse with suppressed laughter. Regulus can’t seem to pull his eyes away from them. They’d only kissed a few times, but Regulus had been thinking about James’ lips for months now, so much so that they seemed damn near mythological. What will they feel like against his skin? He’s consumed by the thought.

“Ready to head back?” asks James. The night feels loud, though Regulus knows it’s not. The wind is quiet, and no rain hangs above them, the streets are empty, and the buildings around them are all dark, yet everything feels so present, so palpable.

“I wanted to ask you something,” says Regulus.

“Oh, okay,” says James, placing his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to force them into submission.

Regulus’ heart races, his already tired vision goes unfocused, and the quiet night rings with the sound of a thousand trumpets, but none of that can distance him from the words he’s been wanting to say.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” asks Regulus. It feels childish after so long, but it’s the most carefully crafted desire in his mind. He’s wanted to be with James for months, and he knows that it’s not just having James as his boyfriend, he wants every part of being with James. Things he’s never wanted with anyone else. Things that feel big and scary and exciting.

But it all starts with a date, if James is interested. He’s quiet for long enough that Regulus considers taking it all back, turning and running back to the flat. James looks shocked, his mouth open as something processes through his brain.

Finally, after an eternity, James says, “Yes.” He breathes it out like a sigh of relief. Regulus feels his chest open like a set of garden doors. It’s terrifying. “I would love that.”

“Okay,” says Regulus. He can barely even smile, he’s so elated by the response, the future unfolding before him in its endless opportunities. All the things he thought he would never find or never have suddenly feel right on his fingertips.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus kneels in front of a sleeping Sirius and imagines what it would feel like to propose. He’s been having that thought a lot recently. All the time, if he’s being honest. He spends too much time at work or when he’s supposed to be sleeping, imagining where he might do it, what he might say, what Sirius might say. It all feels very present and far away at the same time.

He places a hand on Sirius’ knee. It feels too sharp and bony, which Remus knows means Sirius hasn’t been eating enough. He barely slows down these days, too concentrated on everything working out.

Sirius hadn’t been like this for a long time, but when they first started school together when they were kids, Sirius would have bouts of extreme stress that made him work himself to the bone. It was how he did so well in school, by slacking off all term and then losing himself in work when he entered into one of these states.

Remus used to find it hilarious, but he finds it hard to watch now. His poor Sirius, too focused on trying to make things succeed he forgets to take care of himself.

“Sirius,” whispers Remus. He doesn’t want to startle his lover, but he knows Sirius will ache for days if Remus leaves him to sleep in this chair. Not that he could ever really leave. He’d probably just end up falling asleep in the chair opposite him, and then they’d both be bedridden for days afterward. “Sirius,” he whispers again, shaking Sirius’ leg.

Sirius finally begins to stir, but it’s a slow thing, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, his drool-covered lips smacking quietly. Remus should probably be disgusted by them, but he’s had Sirius’ drool in his mouth enough times that he doesn’t really mind.

“Sirius, darling, it’s time to go home,” says Remus.

Sirius’ eyes finally open, but they are glassy and confused. His free hand lifts, his fingers nearly limp, but he’s clearly reaching for Remus’ face, so Remus leans in and lets him touch him. It’s nice, the feel of him against his skin.

“You have no idea,” mumbles Sirius, his very small, tired smirk crossing his face.

Remus lets out a soft chuckle. “I have no idea about what?” asks Remus.

Sirius’ eyebrows draw together in confusion, and then he blinks twice and his vision clears significantly. “Did I fall asleep?”

Remus laughs loud enough to startle both of them. “You’ve been snoring in this chair for an hour.”

Sirius sits up so fast he nearly smacks his head against Remus’. “An hour?” asks Sirius, alarmed.

Remus pushes him back into the chair, just so he has a moment to calm down. “It’s okay,” says Remus. “Everything went off without a hitch. The store’s been closed for an hour and a half. Everyone has already left, it’s just us now.”

“It was a success?” asks Sirius, as if he doesn’t know, as if half the neighborhood didn’t show. Remus nods, and Sirius finally melts backward. “It was a success,” he repeats.

Remus wants to kiss him, but if he starts that now, they won’t make it home for a while, and he’s been fantasizing about his bed for too long to delay anymore

“Yes, it was a success. Let’s go home, please.” After a beat, he adds, “My legs are hurting, I need to lie down.” It’s not a lie, but his legs are almost always hurting, and when Sirius is more rested, he likely knows that. He only says it now because he knows it will light a fire under Sirius and get him moving.

He might have a habit of forgetting to take care of himself, but he never forgets to take care of Remus.

It doesn’t take them long to leave the record store, and the drive back to the flat only lasts a few minutes, but Sirius manages to nod off again in the front seat of Remus’ car. Remus runs a hand through Sirius’ hair and places a slow kiss on his cheek to wake him. He has to lead a stumbling Sirius into their quiet flat and all the way back to their bed, but the moment they're both in pajamas and lying down, Sirius gets a second wind.

He throws his legs over Remus’ prone form and kisses him, it’s wet and sloppy, his tongue like an anchor to the world Remus had halfway abandoned the moment his head hit the pillow.

Remus holds tight to Sirius’ hips, grinding up against the warmth and the thin fabric that separates them. They haven’t had sex in a few days, both of them too busy and subsequently too exhausted to do properly, and though Remus is more exhausted now than he’s ever been, he wants Sirius desperately.

Heat blooms between them, and Sirius’ desperate hands are harsh and purposeful as they pull Remus’ bottoms from his body. They don’t have time for prep and foreplay, so Sirius just pushes their cocks together and spits between them to help the friction. His strong fingers wrap around both of them. All Remus has to do is hold on, his fingers bruising Sirius’ skin, as Sirius pulls them both off.

When he finishes, Remus groans into Sirius’ open mouth, his legs twitching and his mind whirling with the thoughts of what it might be like to see Sirius wear a ring Remus is going to buy him, or what he might look like in a tux, at an altar, a blush on his face.

“Love you, Moony,” says Sirius, finally giving in to sleep, his cock still pressed against Remus, lying chest to chest.

Remus doesn’t dare move him, even though he’s heavy and makes breathing hard. He sighs out and wraps his arms firmly around Sirius’ torso.

Tomorrow, he thinks, tomorrow, I’m buying a ring.

Chapter Text

They have to wait nearly a week before they’re able to go on their first date. They’ve been on dates before, of course, but Regulus still insists on calling it their first date because last time he didn’t get to properly appreciate it.

He plans it this time, and with the newfound money he has saved up, he pays for it too. He takes James to a restaurant Mary told him about, one that’s nice enough for him to feel like he was back with his family, but safe, capable of making jokes and having fun. James is the nervous one this time, but Regulus finds it nothing but sweet.

They order a bottle of wine, and the alcohol causes a blush to crawl down James’ exposed neck. He’s wearing a black knit jumper that hugs his arms perfectly and makes his curls look well-formed and nourished.

Both of their lips turn pink from the wine, sitting sweet on their tongues and making them lean closer and closer over the small, round table separating them. They order bread and pasta, and when Regulus is a little too full, they order dessert too, a decadent piece of chocolate cake that James eats so enthusiastically that he’s left with a small piece of cake clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Once Regulus pays, they leave the restaurant, and when they step outside, Regulus lets the wine make him daring. He pulls James close and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, letting his tongue swipe up the forgotten crump. James makes a gasping sound after only a second and then turns his head so they can kiss fully.

It’s nothing like the first time. Regulus doesn’t tense, he doesn’t panic, he doesn’t worry about pain or roaming, unwanted hands stealing his pride.

James’ hands are warm on his face, cradling him as he tries to pull him closer. Their atoms are nearly meshed, yet Regulus can feel James' urgency to have them entangled beyond recognition. They get lost in each other just long enough to have someone whistle from the other side of the street.

“What now?” asks James when they both pull apart. Regulus feels dazed and lightheaded, but James looks as present as ever, his eyes glowing and bright. He drops a hand from Regulus’ and uses it to tangle their fingers together. Regulus could float from happiness.

“I know it’s not very exciting, but I thought maybe we could take a walk.” He doesn’t say it like last time, but he thinks James hears it anyway. It feels like they’re making up for the moments that blew up in their faces before. At least, that’s how Regulus feels.

“I’d like that,” says James. As if he can’t help himself, he leans in again and kisses Regulus on the mouth once more, a lingering thing full of heat and promise. Regulus lets himself be kissed with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible. For months, he’s worried that he would be too concerned about protecting himself with James that he wouldn’t be able to let him get truly close.

It’s a relief, discovering that it’s not true.

They walk through a nearby park, the streetlamps burning above them with just enough light to cast shadows on their faces. They talk about the record store and Remus’ potential promotion. He’s been working as an adjunct professor, but his students love him, and just a few nights before, he mentioned that they might bring him on as a full-time professor.

“I almost wish I could take a class with him,” says Regulus. “I never got to attend University, but I feel like Remus would be a great professor.”

“Why didn’t you—” James cuts himself off with a cough and makes an instant effort to change the subject, but Regulus answers him anyway.

“I never thought it would be in the cards after my parents disowned me. I was never safe enough before, and I couldn’t afford to take any time off work.”

James gives him a grateful look and says, “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

Regulus shrugs carefully. “I don’t mind,” says Regulus. “Parts of it still hurt, but I don’t feel so afraid of the memories anymore. I guess it’s easier now that I know there is a possibility that things could turn out differently.”

James looks thoughtful before saying, “So do you think you’ll go to University?”

Regulus smiles and leans against James as they walk. They’ve been holding hands, but when Regulus leans in, James drops his hand and puts his arm around Regulus’ shoulders instead. The night is warm and muggy, but somehow Regulus doesn’t mind the press of James against him.

“Maybe,” says Regulus. “There is still a lot to do at the record store. I’m not sure when I’ll have the time, but,” he pauses to think about his words before he says them, “I think I’d like to, and that’s enough for now.”

“What would you study?” asks James.

“I don’t know,” confesses Regulus. “It’s been so long since I was in school, I’d have to think about it.”

“Well, you have time now,” says James. “To think about it. And when you’re ready to take time off from the store, you know we can cover things.”

“You say that now,” says Regulus jokingly.

James only laughs, and Regulus wants so desperately to kiss him. It takes him a moment to remember he can. They kiss in the park, just for a fleeting moment, and then they walk home, which is a bit too far to be comfortable, but neither of them complains. When they get back to the flat, Regulus kisses James against the door until they’re both breathless.

James is in the middle of invading Regulus’ mouth with his tongue when Regulus feels something hard pressing against his hip. For a second, a flash of fear fills him, but it’s gone before it can take root, and without realizing it, Regulus is pushing against that hardness with earnest, unafraid of what it represents or what it could lead to.

Instead, it’s James that pulls away, but he doesn’t look embarrassed or overwhelmed. He pants slightly, and he grins, and his eyes say something that neither of them are ready to utter.

“I’m planning the next date,” says James.

Regulus feels lighter than a cloud. “Great,” says Regulus. James kisses him good night, innocently this time.

When Regulus is alone, finally in bed after the night, he discovers hardness between his legs and realizes that he spent years unable to achieve anything close to that. He pulls down his pajamas and tentatively, with just the tips of his fingers, touches himself. It causes a gasp to leave his mouth, his body jerking like it’s unable to process the stimulation.

He covers his mouth with his free hand to keep any other noises from escaping him. His fingers are still light on the skin of his cock, but it’s not the purposeful seeking of pleasure that he’s feeling. Instead, in that moment, he only feels curiosity. Was this what Barty wanted from him? The ability to get Regulus hard simply from kissing. Or did he prefer that Regulus was always flaccid when he brutalized him?

The thoughts don’t send him spiraling like they might have months before. Poppy has helped him learn how to feel safe even when the flashbacks seem overwhelming. Barty no longer holds power over Regulus, not while he’s alone in bed, not anywhere.

He grips himself a little firmer and, with a tablespoon of guilt he’s sure comes from his puritanical childhood, he thinks of James and his huge hands and his warm lips. He moves his hand with purpose this time and keeps the hand over his mouth clamped tight as he begins to whimper and writhe.

He hasn’t done this since he was a teenager, but it feels so different now, like he’s reclaiming a piece of himself by pulling himself off. It’s a bit silly, in a way, but it also feels powerful.

He imagines it’s James’ hand on his cock, he imagines James in his ear, panting too, gasping with pleasure. He imagines James’ hands elsewhere, his fingers in places that Barty tried to own. His back arches as he comes all over his shirt, a soft gasping moan leaving him like a soul leaves a body.

Their next date happens only a few days later, and James, as he said he would, plans it. They go out early, the sun still high in the sky, and James takes them to a nice bar where they drink overpriced cocktails and press their thighs against each other under the bar. Afterward, James takes him to a play, a version of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Regulus feels giddy, having only read the play and never seen it performed live, and when they go to dinner that night, Regulus rambles on about the performances for nearly an hour before he realizes that James has barely spoken.

“Oh,” says Regulus with an awkward laugh, “sorry, I’m hogging the conversation.”

“No, you’re not,” says James. “I like listening to you.” His eyes sparkle as he leans back in his seat and says, “I knew you’d be a big nerd about this stuff.”

Regulus gasps in surprise and gently kicks James under the table. James snickers. “Rude,” says Regulus.

“I like it,” defends James.

Regulus shakes his head, but he’s laughing while he does it.

They don’t make it home till late, closing down the restaurant until their waiter has to politely ask them to leave. They’re all giggles and breathless kisses on the way back, and when they end up where they were last time, kissing against the door, Regulus wants to pull James back to his bedroom.

He’s just wondering if the second (official) date is too soon when James pulls away, the same happy look on his face, but his hands holding them apart.

“Good night, Regulus,” says James.

Regulus burns with want, but let’s James lead him back to his room, and once he’s alone, he touches himself again. He barely even waits to start, tossing his trousers off and wrapping a hand around his cock. He’s been hard since they got home, they hadn’t even done anything at that point. What was up with him?

He wonders if something is wrong with him or if this is normal for other people. He can only think of one person to ask.

The next day, he corners Remus in the kitchen after Sirius and James leave to head over to James’ parents' house. They invited them to dinner, but Remus couldn’t go because of meetings at work, and Regulus refused because even though he was ready to take James to bed, that did not mean he was ready to meet James’ parents. Sirius and James decide to spend the day there since Mary and Regulus are planning to cover the shop

“Remus, I need to ask you something, and I need you not to tell anyone,” says Regulus. Remus has a piece of heavily buttered toast halfway to his mouth when he pauses, setting it back on the plate. When Sirius isn’t home, Remus always eats standing up. Once, Regulus watched him eat a piece of chicken off the bone while leaning over the trash can so he wouldn’t make a mess.

“Is it about Sirius?” asks Remus, clearly unsettled.

Regulus’s eyebrows furrow. “What? No, of course not.” Remus looks relieved. “What would I need to ask about Sirius?”

Remus shakes his head. “Nothing,” says Remus quickly. “What did you want to ask?”

Regulus fortifies himself, but he refuses to make eye contact as he asks, “I think something might be wrong with me, but I’m not sure because I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Okay,” says Remus. He leans against the counter and sets down his plate. “Go on.”

“Well,” says Regulus slowly, “I’ve been—well—I’ve been getting hard.”

He’s not looking at Remus, so he has no idea what his face does, but Remus makes an odd sound that makes Regulus nervous.

“Do you not usually…” Remus seems unable to finish his questions.

Regulus shakes his head. “I mean, I can, but I didn’t for a long time, and then now, it—” he searches for the words, and when he finds it, he all but yells, “it won’t stop!”

Remus coughs. “Like you just have a consistent—” He waves his hand around Regulus general hip area and Regulus nearly skitters out of his skin.

“No,” says Regulus. “No. Not right now. Not always. But it just… Listen, I’m not an idiot. I’ve had a cock my whole life, it’s just that it used to take a lot and now it’s like I just think about James and suddenly—you get the idea.”

“I do,” agrees Remus. “I don’t see the problem.”

“Just forget it,” says Regulus, already well above his threshold for awkward conversation.

“Wait, no!” says Remus urgently. He reaches out to stop Regulus with a hand on his arm. “It’s not weird to get hard when you think about someone you want to have sex with.” He waits a second before adding. “You want to have sex with James?”

“Yes, it’s become distracting, and I think I might be panicking a bit,” says Regulus, the words flying out of him. “Not about the having sex bit, I’m very sure about that, but I feel like a-a fiend. He barely kissed me, and suddenly I’m rearing to go.”

Remus bursts out laughing. If he’d done it even a moment earlier, Regulus would have been mortified, but now, having heard himself, all he does it laugh along with him.

“You are such a strange person,” says Remus fondly. “James is a lucky man.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” says Regulus, covering his face, his stomach aching from laughing too much.

“A fiend, just ‘cause you got hard a few times? Dear lord, what’re you going to say next? That you’ve thought about James naked?” jokes Remus.

Regulus is red-faced and laughing as he says, “I really haven’t yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

Remus nearly topples over laughing. “Like I said, James is a lucky man.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Although Remus vowed to buy a ring the day after the grand opening of Padfoot’s Records, he doesn’t actually get a chance to go shopping until nearly two weeks later. He thinks about going alone, but he’s afraid he’ll get too excited and buy the first thing he sees. So he asks the two people he trusts the most.

“I need you both to be free tomorrow morning,” Remus told them. “And I need you to keep it from Sirius.”

Peter and James share a look. “It’s not something bad, is it?” asks James.

Remus can barely look at him without thinking about what Regulus said. He thought about asking Regulus to come along too but he doesn’t want him to have to keep secrets from his brother.

Remus laughs. “No, it’s not something bad. It’s good, great, even.”

“Okay, if you say so,” says Peter, but he’s grinning mischievously.

The next day, Remus meets them at a cafe a few blocks from the jewelry stores he found online. He’s nervous enough that he spills tea all over himself when he takes his first sip. The barista gives him a pathetic look if she thinks he’s an old man who has forgotten how to take care of himself. He tries not to let it get to him.

“Where are we off to?” asks James when he arrives, Peter walking in right behind him. He looks different now that he lives with his girlfriend. He’s dressing in more expensive clothes, and his hair is actually combed. It’s a good look on him.

“Down the street, come on,” says Remus. He leads them there without explaining, and when they’re near the store, he gestures toward it and waits for it to click naturally.

It takes longer than it probably should, but when they both finally realize what they’re doing there, they both start yelling, jostling enough that he loses the rest of his tea as it’s knocked from his hands.

“Oops,” says Peter. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“No worries,” says Remus. “So you both think it’s a good idea, then?”

“Are you kidding?” yells James. “This is the best idea you’ve had all year. Maybe ever! Does Regulus know?”

Remus barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. Of course, that’s what James asks.

“Of course, that’s where your mind goes,” says Peter, as if he can read Remus’ thoughts.

James merely grins. “What? I’m just curious,” says James.

Briefly, Remus thinks about how Regulus is working at the record store and is probably imagining having sex with James at this very moment. And James has no idea. The thought makes him laugh.

“No, he doesn’t know yet. I didn’t want to make him lie to Sirius.”

“I bet he would love lying to Sirius,” says Peter.

James thinks about that and then gives a nod. “You’re probably right.”

“Well, regardless, only you two know, so let’s keep it that way,” says Remus.

“Very well,” agrees Peter. “Now, let’s go inside.”

It takes them three different outings to find the right ring, and Remus doesn’t think that Sirius is suspicious, but each night, he goes out of his way to distract him from any coherent thoughts that might pop through. He’s still working himself too hard at the record store, though, so Remus thinks he’s in the clear.

Once he buys the ring, a simple silver band with inlaid diamonds, he gives it to Peter to hide and comes home feeling elated and absolutely terrified. James and Regulus are out on another date by the time he goes home that night, James giddy to take Regulus to some film he’d read about a week before. Sirius is humming in the kitchen, making something that smells like curry.

“Good evening, love,” says Remus, walking up behind Sirius so he can wrap his arms around him.

Sirius leans back against him and tips his head like he’s offering his neck. Remus has never been one to refuse. He places a kiss right at the junction of Sirius’ neck and shoulder.

“Good day?”

“Yeah, not bad,” says Remus.

“Good, because I have something to talk to you about.”

Remus freezes. “Yeah?” asks Remus.

Sirius turns in his arms so they’re face to face and says, “I want to go on a vacation.”

“A vacation?”

“Yeah, next week. James’ parents are going to Spain, and Effy invited us to come along. I think we should go.”

“Oh,” says Remus, relaxing slightly. There is something odd in Sirius’ eyes, like the look he gets when he’s planning a prank. “Yeah, I’d love to do that.”

Sirius grins and grabs his arse, which distracts Remus enough that he doesn’t ask what Sirius is hiding.

Chapter Text

Sirius buys Regulus a plane ticket to Málaga, Spain without asking. Regulus doesn’t even realize they’re going on vacation with James’ parents until Mary asks him about it. She’s actually asking which day will be his last at Padfoot’s Records before they leave on their trip, but it throws Regulus enough that he doesn’t end up answering her.

“I can’t go on this trip, I’ve never even met James’ parents,” Regulus tells Sirius. Sirius keeps packing like he can’t hear Regulus. Maybe he can’t. He’s been lost thinking about something for weeks, and this just seems like another part of that. “Sirius,” snaps Regulus.

“You’ll be fine,” says Sirius. “They’re very nice and they’ll be on vacation so they’ll be even more relaxed. They love me, so they’re definitely going to love you.”

“I am not a lovable person, Sirius,” argues Regulus, frustratedly.

Sirius frowns at him briefly before moving to the other side of the room to grab a spare bag from under his bed. He shoves it into Regulus’ hands, and it’s only on instinct that Regulus grabs it.

“I thought you were working on your self-esteem with Poppy,” says Sirius.

Regulus growls. “That’s not what I — you know what? Forget it.”

“Great,” says Sirius cheerfully. “Go get packed, we have to leave in a few hours.”

“I don’t even own a swimsuit!” Regulus leaves Sirius' bedroom as he yells it. It doesn’t matter, he’s not planning on swimming.

“I bought you some extra, they’re on your bed!” shouts Sirius.

“I’m not a child,” mumbles Regulus, though the swimsuits turn out to be very nice and he’s grateful that he won’t be overdressed if he’s forced to go to a beach. He’s never been to one, it wasn’t the kind of vacation his family would have insisted upon, and Barty would have hated it.

James, Remus, and Sirius all chatter endlessly as they head to the airport, arriving just in time for their midafternoon flight. Regulus barely speaks. There’s a pit in his stomach, and he doesn’t know how to get rid of it.

Things have barely gotten off the ground with James, Regulus hasn’t even had the chance to have sex with him, and now he’s meeting his parents, and that could ruin everything. He’s listened to James talk about his parents plenty of times, he knows how important they are to James, which means that if they don’t like Regulus…

He shivers just thinking about it. James, Remus, and Sirius all manage to fall asleep only a few minutes after takeoff, and Regulus fights nausea the entire time. His body stays locked in place, his legs cramping from the way he keeps pushing up onto his toes and tensing his muscles.

When they land, Regulus feels like he’s limping.

“Should we catch a cab to the hotel?” asks Remus.

“Yeah, I’ll grab one,” says James.

They’ve barely spoken since that morning. Regulus wants to know why James didn’t tell him about the trip, but he can’t seem to find the words to ask. He’s thoroughly overwhelmed, unused to the change, and unprepared for the international travel.

The cab is a small van, and all four of them pile into the front two rows, James pressing Regulus into the corner when he sits next to him.

“Are you okay?” asks James, his voice very quiet. Remus and Sirius are sitting behind them, laughing loudly together. They don’t have to worry about this sort of thing. Regulus envies them terribly.

“I’m fine,” lies Regulus, his back as straight as a board.

“Don’t be nervous,” says James, as if it’s that simple. “I’ve already told them about you, they’re excited to meet you.”

“Okay,” says Regulus. He tries for a smile, but from the troubled look on James’ face, he doesn’t think he manages it.

It’s late by the time they make it to the hotel, but they haven’t eaten dinner yet, and it turns out, neither had James’ parents.

“They’re going to meet us at this place down the street once we drop off our luggage,” says James.

“Straight into the fire,” mutters Regulus. Only Remus appears to hear him. He bites on the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to keep in a laugh.

Regulus wasn’t paying attention when they checked in, so it’s not until they’re in the elevator that he realizes they only booked two rooms, and Remus and Sirius, who can barely keep their hands off of each other, are clearly taking one of them.

“Oh,” breathes Regulus.

James gives him a curious look. “Is that okay? Sirius booked them, but we can get another one if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, no,” says Regulus. “It’s fine.” It’s the first ‘it’s fine’ that he’s given that day that wasn’t a lie. He’s not going to give up the opportunity to share a bedroom with James, especially one that doesn’t share a wall with Sirius’. Their room in the hotel isn’t even on the same floor as Sirius and Remus’.

When they enter, James fiddling with the lock for a good two minutes before he manages to get the door open, Regulus feels the first moment of calm since he found out about the trip. They're in a beachfront hotel and their room overlooks the ocean, with a balcony right outside the glass doors.

“Wow,” breathes Regulus. He drops his bag on one of the beds and walks out onto the balcony, laughing as the salty air fills his lungs. The waves are loud, that’s the first thing he notices. He can hear them perfectly, even though he’s so far away. They crash rhythmically on the shore, the black water burning white as every wave crests.

“Sirius said you’ve never been to the beach,” says James, stepping out onto the balcony. Regulus glances at him briefly before his eyes are drawn back to the water. “Have you ever seen the ocean?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No,” says Regulus. “It’s amazing.”

“It is,” breathes James, his voice sounds distant and thoughtful. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” says James suddenly.

“What is?” asks Regulus.

“Springing this trip on you, asking you to meet my parents,” says James.

Regulus hums. “Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” asks Regulus.

James’ laugh is awkward. “I thought you might like the surprise,” confesses James.

The ball of tension in Regulus’ chest loosens slightly. “So it’s not because you didn’t want me to come?”

“What?” asks James, startled. “Why would that be the case?”

“Sirius bought my ticket, I just figured,” said Regulus.

James shakes his head. “I’ll tell you next time,” says James.

Regulus pulls away from the railing and looks at James straight on. “I do like surprises,” says Regulus. “It’s really just the whole meeting your parents thing.”

“They’re going to love you.”

Regulus can only nod because it’s not like he can explain in detail the catastrophized fears he has about James’ parents hating him. His own parents hate him, it’s hard to imagine someone else’s parents liking him. He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything.

They get dressed in shorts and button-down shirts. Regulus feels wildly underdressed, though he knows they’re in a beach town and this is nothing but normal. They hold hands in the elevator, and Regulus does his best to pretend that he’s not terrified that this will be the last night he gets to call James his.

It takes them no time at all to make it to the restaurant. Sirius and Remus keep leaning close to whisper, both of them giddy with romance, and Regulus immediately discounts his fleeting idea that they’d be any help at all. James seems completely relaxed, unaware of the potential disaster brewing.

The restaurant is tiny, but the host leads them through the cramped tables into a covered back patio that stretches the length of the block. String lights are hung above them, and candles flicker on each table. It’s a beautiful place, with warm colors woven into every surface, and quiet, soothing Spanish music coming from the speakers. They’re led to a table in the back where two older people sit.

When those two people look up, Regulus can instantly see the resemblance. James is the perfect mixture of both of his parents. He has his father’s hair and build, plus the same straight nose and angular jaw. He gets his eyes from his mother, the same hazel color.

“James, dear,” says his mother. She jumps to her feet, and Regulus is momentarily shocked by how tall she is. She’s wearing platform sandals, so she and James are nearly the same height. Once she’s done hugging James, she turns her hazel eyes on Regulus. She looks kind, which somehow terrifies Regulus even more.

“Mrs. Potter,” says Regulus, his voice overly formal. She tips her head back and laughs.

“Please,” says Mrs. Potter. “Call me Effy. Or Euphemia, if you insist on such formality.” She opens her arms, and without thinking, Regulus hugs her. He’s never been one for hugs, neither of his parents was keen on giving them, and he’s always found them uncomfortable with people he doesn’t know all that well.

Hugging Euphemia isn’t all that bad. She smells like nutmeg and coconut, and her arms are deceptively strong. When Regulus pulls away, she moves on to Sirius and Remus. Regulus turns to Mr. Potter next, but doesn’t get a chance to speak before he’s being hugged again.

James’s father is slightly shorter than James is, but he’s extremely strong. Regulus’ lungs are squeezed until the air leaves his lungs and a small, pathetic squeak escapes his mouth.

“Dad,” says James.

Mr. Potter pulls away just far enough to hold Regulus at arms length. He searches Regulus’ face for something, though Regulus doesn’t know what. Finally, he says, “You’re just how Sirius described you.”

Regulus grins. He doesn’t know why the sentence warms him so much, perhaps because he’d never imagined Sirius talking about him to anyone.

“We’re so glad you’re here with us,” says Mr. Potter. Regulus can sense the layers to that statement, and for a second, he worries he might get misty-eyed.

“I’m glad to be here,” says Regulus.

Mr. Potter nods. “Good,” he says. “Call me Fleamont.” He gestures to the table. “You can sit next to me.” After Regulus sits, Fleamont says, “Now, James tells me you used to work for that Slughorn fellow who was on the news.”

“Dad!” yelps James.

Dinner flies by and Regulus falls into a rhythm with the Potters quickly. Sirius clearly loves Euphemia with a deference he never held for their mother. Remus keeps his eyes on Sirius, even when he’s talking to someone else at the table. It’s like he can’t help it. Like he’s hypnotized. James keeps a grip on Regulus’ hand under the table, only dropping it when it’s time to eat dinner.

Regulus leaves the restaurant feeling like he’s floating. He feels swept up in the love that everyone has for each other. He never thought love like that could exist, not in that quantity. He’s swallowed up by it. Fleamont and Euphemia leave them at the restaurant, heading back to their hotel, which is in the opposite direction from where Regulus is staying. Sirius and Remus only walk with them for a little while before breaking off to head to a club. They invite Regulus and James to come along, but both of them refuse.

“See? I told you they’d love you,” says James.

Regulus laughs. He’s a little drunk from the wine he had at dinner and he stumbles a bit while laughing. James doesn’t miss a beat, reaching out to catch him like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Oops,” says Regulus. “Well, thank you for bringing me. I’m actually really glad I got to meet them.”

“Me too,” says James. “They’re already talking about having you over for weekly dinner.”

“They live like two hours from London,” says Regulus.

James shrugs. “Tell them that.”

Regulus’ next laugh carries off in the wind. “I can see how they raised someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” says James goofily.

“Someone so lovable. Sirius and I were raised by people who hated each other and both of us, but your parents love each other and they love you.” He rambling, but he can’t seem to stop. “You’re lucky.”

“I am lucky,” says James, a little dazed. “You think I’m lovable?”

“Of course,” says Regulus. “I mean, I love you so I clearly think you’re lovable.”

James comes to a dead stop, his grip on Regulus’ hand dragging him to a stop as well.

“What?” asks Regulus, momentarily concerned. Only James is smiling so widely that it looks painful.

“You love me?” breathes James.

Regulus’ face burns and burns. He hadn’t meant to say that bit yet. It’s too soon. Probably. He thinks it might be. “Sorry, is that too much?”

James is still grinning when he says, “I love you too.”

“Oh, thank God,” says Regulus. In a moment, they’re kissing, the streets of Málaga fading into the background. James lifts Regulus so his feet are floating above the pavement, their arms tangled around each other. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” The words are muffled against James’ lips, but James understands them anyway.

It takes them far too long to get to the hotel room, in Regulus’ opinion, but when they make it inside, Regulus all but throws James onto the mattress. He tumbles down on top of him, placing his knees on either side of James’ hips. He’s near frantic when he starts pulling at the buttons of James’ shirt, a need to be skin to skin taking over his entire person.

“Wait, wait,” says James, his voice breathless. Regulus pulls back instantly until not even his hands are on James’ body.

“What’s wrong?” asks Regulus.

“You’re drunk.”

Regulus stares down at him in confusion. “I’m not drunk,” he says.”

“Baby, you had like five glasses of wine at dinner. We can’t do this now.”

Regulus moves to the side of the bed so he’s not sitting on James’ lap. “You don’t want to?” asks Regulus, humiliation licks at the edges of his thoughts.

James grabs his hand and pulls Regulus’ knuckles up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there. “I do want to, but not like this. I want you to be sober.”

Regulus smiles, a tiny thing that he can’t control. “All right,” says Regulus. “Will you call me baby again?”

A grin splits James’ face. “I’ll call you whatever you want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The ring sits heavy in Remus’ pocket when they make to leave the hotel room. He thinks about bringing it, maybe using the night with all five of them gathered to ask Sirius to marry him, but he chickens out at the last second and tucks the ring into his suitcase right before they head to the restaurant.

At dinner, he can’t seem to hear anyone at the table that isn’t Sirius. He’s glowing under the honeyed lights, happiness making him sparkle.

Remus had been in love with Sirius for a long time, but seeing so much of his life change over the last few months, it made him love him even more. He’d failed to see how many pieces of Sirius were still open and weeping, how many wounds he was avoiding. And then Regulus stumbled into his life and changed everything.

Remus would have never guessed that Regulus was the missing piece for them.

Now, it feels like he’s getting to know another piece of Sirius, and he’s just as in love with that piece as he is with all the others.

“Let’s go dancing!” shouts Sirius as they leave the restaurant. James and Regulus are too obsessed with each other to hear them. When Remus asks them to come along, mostly so they don’t seem rude, James and Regulus refuse. Sirius doesn’t even pretend to complain.

He drags them down an alley and around a few corners to a club he must have looked up before they went out tonight. The black door leads to a set of slim stairs that take them under the building into a humid basement vibrating with loud music. Sirius takes them right to the bar, and Remus orders four shots of tequila. They drank plenty at dinner, but then again, he’s on vacation and Sirius is wearing a shirt so thin that Remus could tear it in two with only a few fingers.

The tequila lingers on their tongues as they dance, Sirius grinding back into him, his sweaty hair flipped over his head so the long stretch of his neck is on display. Remus barely notices the bodies pressing on them from all sides. He can’t take his eyes off of Sirius. Not even for a second.

Even with a knife to his throat, Remus wouldn’t be able to guess how long they spent in the bar dancing, but one moment they're in the crowd and the next they’re out in the alley, Remus’ back against the building as Sirius climbs on him like a kitten, all sharp nails and desperate mewling sounds.

Remus keeps trying to remind them both that they’re in public, that anyone could see them, but he can’t form the words in any way that could be understood and accepted by both of them.

He doubts Sirius was listening to anything at all, to be fair.

Especially once he starts pulling on the buttons of Remus’ trousers and dropping to his knees. Remus laughs when he sees him down there because only a few short hours ago, he was imagining a big romantic proposal, and now, Sirius was swallowing him down with a fever only he could possess.

Remus’ hand lingers on Sirius’ cheek as he works him over, and when he comes, he whispers sweet nothings that can only mean love.

“Oi! Basta!” a man shouts from somewhere down the alley. Sirius yanks Remus' trousers back up his legs and the two of them take off running, laughing stupidly all the way back to their hotel.

He’ll do it tomorrow, he thinks as they shower off the day. When they crawl into bed and Sirius’ face is only illuminated by the full moonlight coming in through the open curtains, Remus imagines that this time tomorrow, Sirius will be his fiancé.

Chapter Text

The sun cresting in through the split curtains is what wakes Regulus. The room seemed far more orange that morning, the sun reflecting off of every surface and bounding around the space like an unstoppable force. Regulus tries to squeeze his eyes closed, to call sleep back to his grasp, but it won’t come.

Frustration makes him irritable enough to shift in bed, but he freezes when he finally notices the warmth against his back. It's James. He'd forgotten that they decided to share a bed the night before. They've never shared a bed before. Regulus was so giddy about it, he'd struggled to fall asleep. Now, with James' arm slung around his waist and James' chest pressing up against his back, he feels the giddiness return.

He presses back slightly, just to feel a bit more of him. Only it's not just more of James' strong chest that he feels. Something hard is pressing up against his backside, nudging into him insistently.

He's sure it's an accident, James is still snoring softly in his ear, so Regulus knows it's just his body's natural reaction.

Regulus pulls his hips away, just enough so that part of them isn't joined. Want is starting to build inside him, but James is sleeping, and Regulus isn't going to do something unless James is completely awake. When he was still living with Barty, Regulus had woken up plenty of times to Barty touching him. It always made him feel so helpless, like he wasn't even safe while he was asleep.

Though he doubts James will react the same way, Regulus doesn't want to risk it.

Instead, he enjoys the sound of James breathing and the feel of his arm, heavy and grounding. He watches the sun rise, the light bringing a heat with it that starts to make Regulus sweat. The room was cool when they went to sleep, but now it's starting to feel like a sauna.

By the time James finally stirs, Regulus is itching for a shower.

"Shit, it's hot in here," James mumbles against the back of Regulus' neck.

"Charming," replies Regulus jokingly. James' rumbling laugh rocks through Regulus' body.

"How long have you been up?"

"Not long," says Regulus. It's only a small lie, but mostly because he has no idea how long he's been lying there, letting James hold him. He turns over so they're face to face, then squeaks in surprise when James kisses him. It's a short kiss, mostly because Regulus pulls away only a second after it starts. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

James smiles. "I don't mind," says James.

Regulus shakes his head. He lets James kiss him one more time before separating them resolutely. He wants to stay here, linger in bed all day, but if one more drop of sweat trickles down his chest, he might lose it. Besides, his mouth is dry and foul-tasting from the alcohol he had the night before, and he desperately needs to rehydrate.

The bathroom light flickers when he turns it on and then burns dully. His skin looks sallow in the shadowed lighting, but he tries not to dwell on it. He brushes his teeth quickly and then locks himself in the room with the shower and toilet. The water in the shower is still freezing when he steps under it, relieved from the heat that was building in his room.

His hair is knotted from sleeping, but it untangles quickly under the spray. As his mind lingers on the man lying in bed on the other side of the wall, Regulus scrubs his skin until it's raw. He doesn't get out of the shower until he feels human again, but by the time he's back in front of the mirror, a nervous, jittery feeling has made a new home between his collarbones.

There is no way of telling what James might want that morning. Surely they're supposed to meet up with Remus and Sirius at some point that day, not to mention that James' parents will likely want to see them, but none of that stops Regulus from wanting. He wants so, so much. It's nearly overwhelming.

He didn't think to bring much into the bathroom with him, so when he finally walks back into the main room, he does so with nothing covering him except for a towel slung around his waist.

The heat makes him flush, but it doesn't feel annoying now. It lights him on fire.

James is typing on his phone when Regulus steps out of the bathroom, so it takes him a minute to notice him. When his eyes finally lift, he drops his phone onto the bedside table, disregarding it like he's already forgotten what he was looking at.

"Hey," says James, his voice still raspy, as if he'd fallen back asleep while Regulus showered. His eyes drag on Regulus' chest. Regulus has never thought of himself as someone who could really be desired, not the way James is looking at him now. There is a brief second where Regulus wants to cover himself, where he feels too observed, but when James begins to smile, he forgets that feeling entirely. "Come here."

James holds out his hand, beckoning Regulus back to bed. Regulus hesitates for a second. "The towel's still wet," says Regulus.

James' grin softens into something smooth and keen. "Then leave it."

Regulus doesn't let his fear of the invitation take hold. He expected to feel nervous, so he refuses to let it control him.

James sits up on his elbows right as Regulus drops the towel. Regulus can feel James' eyes on him like weights bearing down on his skin, but it feels good, it feels new and scary, but exciting too. Regulus lets him look for a handful of seconds before crawling onto the bed. James scrambles to throw back the covers, and when Regulus is close enough, James surges forward and kisses him. His lips taste minty, he must have brushed them while Regulus was in the shower.

His fingers graze over Regulus' skin, down his sides, and over his hips. They're incredibly gentle, each of James' touches, and Regulus, having grown used to the careful way James' touches him when he wants more, feels himself grow hard.

James is still wearing his pajamas - a pair of shorts and a t-shirt - so when he pulls Regulus down on top of him, Regulus' skin only rubs against the fabric. He wants to feel his skin. He's seen James without a shirt plenty of times, mostly because James has a habit of walking around the flat without one, but Regulus had yet to feel him without a shirt on.

He groans softly into James' mouth and then, with slow and, thankfully, steady hands, he pulls on the bottom of James' shirt. He's asking instead of demanding, and James must know that because he nods, their lips never separating.

Regulus drags James' shirt up his body, and they finally break apart so he can pull it over James' head. James gasps as he does it, his mouth still open with it, when Regulus kisses him again.

Their skin finally touches, chest to chest, just like Regulus wanted. James holds him close, one hand in Regulus' hair and the other around his waist. Their legs tangle, the angle just off enough that it takes Regulus a few tries to feel James rub against him. He's hard again, like he was before he woke up, and it stirs a hunger in Regulus so intense that he wants to rip James' shorts off.

He barely manages to stop himself.

James kisses him until both of them are panting against each other, and then James drops his head onto the pillow and says, "Can I touch you?"

"Yes," gasps Regulus, breathless and needy.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me," implores Regulus. "I've been thinking about you touching me for weeks. I don't want to wait any longer.”

James’ eyes slide closed as he groans. Regulus relishes it, it’s everything he imagined and more, watching James want him so deeply. Even though they’ve been dating and James has been oh, so sweet to him for weeks, it still feels nearly unreal to have him like this.

James pulls him down for a kiss, his fingers burying in Regulus’ hair, and with another hand, he finally, finally touches Regulus. The gasp Regulus lets out is like a racehorse escaping the gates, it shoots out of him with all the ties of his desires tangled in its hair. James’ fingers are so soft, gentle, and firm in equal measure, and they grip Regulus’ shaft just tight enough to make his hips twitch.

Regulus’ thoughts white-out for a few seconds, blinding him completely, but when he feels everything rush up and down his spine, he returns to himself and knows that he will not survive another second if he doesn’t see James naked.

“Can I -” he tries to say, his words slurring and dropping off a cliff when James swipes a purposeful finger over Regulus’ cockhead. “Fuck, James, can I take these off, please?” He brushes a hand over the top of James' pants after he asks. 

James’ hips shift, twitching once. “Only if you want,” answers James.

Regulus laughs heartily and loudly, right against James’ lips.

“What?” asks James. He’s smiling too, his hand still moving, expertly keeping Regulus on that steady incline.

“Nothing,” answers Regulus, shaking his head. He pulls away, mourning the loss of James' hand when he shifts out of reach, and drops his eyes to James' abs as he pulls down his pants, finally unveiling the part of him that Regulus refused to fantasize about in detail.

James’ cock is large, which doesn’t surprise Regulus. He’s seen how large his hands are, how big his feet are, his shoes scattered around the flat. James is not a small man, and his cock is perfectly proportioned. And though Regulus hates to compare, one of the first things he thinks is that James is far bigger than Barty.

Under the wrong circumstances, James could seriously hurt Regulus. It’s a testament to the work he’s done in the last few months that that thought doesn’t terrify him. He’s not worried that James will hurt him, not even a little bit.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” says James, misreading the lingering silence coming from Regulus. Regulus, unfortunately, feels like he’s already a bit cock drunk, his mouth watering with the thought of licking up the veins that stick out along James’ shaft. He’s never done that willingly. Never.

It felt so degrading before, but with James, with the choice being his, it feels like love.

“I’m just looking,” assures Regulus. “You don’t mind, do you?”

James has to close his eyes again, his cock jumping. “You can look at me for as long as you want.”

Regulus smiles, giddy like he’s just been given a precious gift. “I don’t know what I want to do first,” says Regulus.

James lifts his head off the bed, reaching out a hand, palm up, and waits for Regulus to clasp his fingers before he speaks. “I’m happy with anything, but I have to ask something.”

“Okay,” says Regulus. He wonders why they need to hold hands while James asks his question, not that Regulus is complaining.

“Have you been tested?”

Regulus blinks then flushes. Shame trickles down his back, and James must see it because he reaches out and grabs Regulus’ other hand.

“Yes,” says Regulus hurriedly. “I’m clean. Sirius - sorry, no, I can’t talk about my brother when we’re both naked.”

“Thank God for that,” says James. “For both things. I am, too, by the way. I just figured, before we do anything.”

Regulus waves him off. He knows this is the responsible thing, the thing Barty would never have thought to do, the thing that Sirius forced Regulus to do after he found out what happened to him. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to linger on the conversation.

“I want to have sex,” says Regulus bluntly. James cracks a smile, his eyes pleased.

“I’m certain we’re already doing that,” replies James.

“You know what I mean,” says Regulus with a laugh.

James presses up, releasing one of Regulus’ hands so he can cup his face. He kisses him once, their lips gentle. “I want that too,” says James. “Do you want to top?”

“Not particularly,” confesses Regulus. He’s never done that, and maybe he’ll want to eventually, but he’s not sure when that day will come. “Is that okay?”

“You can,” says James. “Whenever you want.”

Regulus loves James. He really, really does. But he’s abruptly reached his quota of being treated so softly. He pushes James back onto the bed. “I know, James,” says Regulus. “You’ll give me everything I want.”

James’ face splits open into a grin so wide. “I’m so glad you know that.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Sirius demands they go down to the beach far too early for Remus’ taste. He’s viciously hungover and sleep-deprived, but Sirius wakes with the sun and demands that they get down before all the good chairs are taken.

“Let them take them,” groans Remus, his eyes refusing to open. Sirius slaps him on the chest.

“Get up! I want to sit in the sun.”

“You hate the sun,” complains Remus. “You’re just going to sit under an umbrella the whole time after you get burned immediately.”

“I’m going to wear sun cream,” says Sirius petulantly.

“You’re a pain in my arse,” says Remus. He gets up anyway because Sirius is keyed up and ready to go, and Remus unfortunately loves him. They’re almost the first ones down at the beach, just them and the packs of elderly people walking along the shore.

They claim two chairs and an umbrella. They are all empty, given that no one else has joined them yet. Remus leans back in his chair and throws his towel over his eyes. Sleep is already pulling him under as he listens to Sirius flounce off toward the water.

When he wakes up sometime later, he finds that Sirius is snoring in the chair next to him, the red sting from a new sunburn lingering over his too-white chest. Remus chuckles, a ‘told you so’ that he can’t say yet sitting on the tip of his tongue. Sirius’ mouth is hanging open, a tiny line of drool dripping down his cheek. He looks completely ridiculous and more handsome than anyone else on the beach.

It’s sometime before noon, and though the rest of the beach is slowly starting to fill, no one else from their party has made it down yet. Remus longs to go back inside and take a catnap in bed for a few hours, but he’s certain that Sirius will veto the idea. Despite spending his entire childhood in London and rarely traveling unless prompted by someone else, Sirius loves the water. He’ll spend all night and day out on the beach if no one stops him.

“Late night?” asks Fleamont when he and Effy show up an hour or so later. They’ve walked down from their hotel, bags full of drinks, snacks, and beach toys hanging off their back.

They look like they should have a young kid with them, but Remus knows they’re only planning to entertain James and Sirius.

“Something like that,” says Remus. “Mind staying here for a moment? I need to run up to the room.”

“Sure,” says Effy. She and Fleamont have already begun fighting with their towels, trying to lay them out on the sand.

Remus checks one last time that Sirius is still sleeping before running up to their hotel room. He uses the bathroom, downs three cups of water, grabs the book he thought he wouldn’t have time to read, and heads back outside. On his way down, he finds James and Regulus standing in the hotel lobby.

They’re standing so close, their noses nearly brushing against each other, but they’re not touching. Both of them have their hands folded behind their backs, grins spread across their faces. Remus doesn’t want to interrupt, and he plans to walk right past them when Regulus catches his eye.

Before either of them manage to speak, Regulus’ cheeks turn bright red. His eyes open comically wide, but only for a second. Remus wishes he were less skilled at reading Regulus.

“Morning,” greets Remus, pretending as best he can that he can’t tell what James and Regulus are trying to hide. “Are you heading down to the beach?”

“Yeah,” says James. He’s wearing that stupid, goofy grin he only wears when he’s just finished shagging. Remus has lived with him long enough to recognize it in a second.

“Shall we?” asks Regulus, turning away from the two of them. His already pale skin is bright white from the sun cream he’s rubbed into it. He looks like he’s never been to a beach in his life. He probably hasn’t, Remus realizes with a small pang of sadness.

James moves to follow Regulus, but Remus stops him with a look.

“What?” asks James, his voice low enough that Regulus won’t hear.

“You'd better fix your face if you don’t want Sirius to lose it,” says Remus.

James blinks in surprise, and Remus doesn’t wait for him to reply. He doesn’t need to hear the details, and James has a tendency to overshare.

By the time they’re all back on the beach, Sirius is finally awake. He barely seems to notice it, but Effy forces him to reapply half a bottle of sun cream before he and James go running into the waves. Regulus takes Sirius’ seat in the shade of the umbrella, a quiet, satisfied smile on his face.

Remus forgets his hangover as the afternoon spreads out in front of them. He talks with Regulus, Effy, and Fleamont for most of the day, only giving in and swimming with Sirius after he begs four different times. By the time the sun starts to dip in the sky, Regulus looks like he’s fighting a nap while James and Sirius are more energized than ever. Fleamont and Effy leave early, promising to meet them for dinner, but it takes Remus and the others two hours to make it back to their hotel rooms.

“Dress fancy,” says Sirius, as they part from Regulus and James in the elevator. “This is a nice place.” He gives both of them a pointed look, but neither of them appears to be listening all that closely.

Remus, for his part, only brought one nice outfit. The rest of his clothes are leisurely at best, but he brought one pair of tan slacks and a button-down shirt meant to be worn under a suit jacket. He thinks it might be too hot for the full look, but he wears a tie, so he figures it’s nice enough.

Sirius, on the other hand, looks like he’s heading to a catwalk rather than a restaurant. He’s wearing all black, his trousers perfectly hemmed to make him look tall and regal. His black shirt is patched with lace that shows off pieces of his skin. It’s altogether too much for Remus.

“Do I look okay?” asks Sirius with that cocky smirk that means he knows Remus is checking him out.

Remus tries to think of a suave response, something witty and funny. He manages to say nothing at all. Sirius tips his head back and laughs, melodic and full of himself. Remus can’t find it in himself to mind.

When Sirius turns his back, Remus grabs the ring he’s been nervously clinging to for days. He tucks it into his trouser pocket and grips down tightly on the velvet box, his heart hammering away in his chest.

They take a cab to the restaurant, an extremely expensive place called Palos de Escoba. Remus feels underdressed and out of place, the ring sits heavy against him, and he’s not sure he hears or responds to a single thing said during the first half hour of the meal. They’re in the back room of the restaurant, a dimly lit space with dark walls and burgundy tablecloths. It’s relatively private, though they can still hear the chatter and music coming from the main room of the restaurant.

He downs one drink for courage, just enough to settle his nerves, and then refuses any more drinks. He only has one chance to do this right. He doesn’t want to risk messing it up.

Dinner passes quickly, much to Remus’ panic, and before he knows it, they’re all stuffed full of food and waiting on the desserts they ordered to be delivered.

Remus feels like he’s going to throw up. He’s not sure how people do this. How has anyone else ever done this?

Somehow his thoughts are still racing through his skull as he stands, his body moving as if he’s possessed by the god of marriage, come down to ask for him. The entire table turns to look at him, including Sirius, who’s grinning warmly.

“I have something I want to say,” says Remus. Effy grabs Fleamont’s hand under the table, Remus feels like his eyes narrow in on the movement without his permission. “I’m so grateful to have been welcomed into this family. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without this opportunity.”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet, Moony?” says Sirius. He sounds like he’s trying to joke to cover up some other emotion.

“And I’m glad you’re all here for this,” says Remus. He sounds so nervous that he’s pretty sure that last statement comes out like he’s about to bomb the place rather than propose.

His legs shake, just slightly, as he turns to Sirius, and carefully, with enough fluidity as he can manage, he lowers himself to one knee. Sirius’ grinning face breaks out into a look of true shock. Remus thinks he might pass out.

All at once, that shock burns away into something else, and a second later, Sirius is laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Remus is definitely going to pass out.

Chapter Text

Regulus has never seen someone propose in real life. It always seemed so humiliating to him when he thought about it in detail. He’s not sure that he would ever want to be proposed to in front of other people, nor would he want to propose to anyone unless they were completely alone. What if it went wrong? What if the other person laughs?

Like Sirius is laughing. Oh God, Regulus wishes he would stop.

Remus looks devastated, his face dropping like he’s losing blood in his head too fast. Regulus squeezes James’ thigh under the table. He knows his nails are likely digging into his skin through his trousers, but he can’t bring himself to stop. James is shaking slightly next to him, quivering like he’s nervous. It takes Regulus far too long to realize that he’s laughing too.

“James,” hisses Regulus.

James shakes his head, a hand over his mouth like he’s trying to keep the noise in. He leans close to Regulus, putting a steady arm around his shoulders.

“It’s okay,” says James. Euphemia is looking between all four of them with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Fleamont is just staring at Sirius with a slight frown. He doesn’t look angry exactly, but his expression still sets Regulus’ teeth on edge.

Remus swallows so harshly that it appears to pain him. Regulus looks away, he wants to squeeze his eyes closed like a little kid seeing a horror film, but he thinks that might be too childish.

“Well,” breathes Remus, the word cracking him open like all his dreams are falling apart right before him. He pulls his hands back, the ring box cradled between them, shaking slightly. Sirius continues to laugh, but he’s waving his hands around in front of him like he’s trying to calm the situation.

He wipes a tear from his eye and then stands. “James,” says Sirius with barely contained giggling. James nearly topples over as he jumps from his seat, dislodging Regulus’ hand and almost knocking him over.

James fumbles for something in his pocket, and when he gets a grasp on it, he shoves it into Sirius' waiting hand. Both of them look like little kids stealing candy from a store. It’s completely inappropriate in Regulus' opinion. When James retakes his seat, he puts his arm back around Regulus’ shoulders and mumbles a quick, “Sorry, baby.”

Regulus is too bemused to respond, his eyes locked on Sirius, who is now shoving his seat back so there is enough room for him to lower himself onto one knee. Remus’ face is deathly pale, and his mouth is hanging open in shock, the cogs in his head turning loudly enough that Regulus thinks he might be able to hear them.

“What?” mutters Remus. Euphemia is covering her mouth with both hands, and Fleamont looks like he’s near tears.

“I’m confused,” confesses Regulus, just loud enough for James to hear.

James squeezes him close and says, “Just watch.”

“Remus,” says Sirius. He lifts both of his hands, the object James gave him presented between them. Remus doesn’t appear to notice, he’s too busy staring at Sirius’ face.

“What?” says Remus, this time a little louder.

“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” says Sirius.

“What?” yells Remus. His face is finally getting some color back, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. His sallow face stretches into a disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” says Sirius, though he’s laughing as he says it.

James makes an odd noise, and Regulus looks over to see that he’s tearing up through his laughs. He rubs the top of James’ thigh soothingly. He hadn’t realized that James was such an easy crier.

Regulus turns back to Sirius and Remus just in time to catch them both fumbling with the rings they bought. He misses most of the words they exchange, but he thinks that’s fine. They weren’t really meant for him, and in the end, he’s just happy to see his brother and Remus so elated.

After they manage to exchange the rings - it takes longer than Regulus would have expected, but they’re both giddy and laughing while they’re trying to do it - the rest of the table breaks into applause. James is the first one up, racing around the table to hug both of them.

Remus’ voice comes out muffled as he says, “Peter is going to be so mad he missed this.”

“Now he thinks of me,” says Peter. Regulus can’t tell where his voice is coming from until James, Sirius, and Remus separate. From the door to the rest of the restaurant comes Peter, Sybill, Mary, Lily, and Pandora, piling in one at a time. Sirius and James are the only ones who don’t look surprised to see them.

Sybill hits Peter lightly on the arm. “Did you know they were both going to propose?” she asks.

Peter and James exchange a look. “Yeah,” says James. “We were the only ones that knew.”

Lily, who is somehow crying harder than James and Euphemia combined, says, “I can’t believe we had no idea.”

“What did you think you were coming here for?” asks Remus. He has a hand wrapped tightly around Sirius’ waist now, like he wants to keep him close. Euphemia finally stands, Fleamont moving with her, and the two of them round the table to join the rest of the group. Regulus is the only one still sitting, but strangely, he can’t bring himself to move.

“Sirius said it was for Effy and Fleamont’s anniversary,” says Lily.

“That was very sneaky,” says Remus, grinning over at Sirius.

Everyone ends up squished around the table once they all settle down. The celebration builds, Fleamont ordering several bottles of wine for the group so they can all toast to Sirius and Remus. Regulus is so overwhelmed by it all that he doesn’t know how he feels until he manages to slip away, telling James he’s going to the bathroom and leaving out the front door of the restaurant.

He just needs a little bit of air, he realizes once he’s outside. Too many people crammed into a little room makes him feel claustrophobic.

He walks to the corner of the restaurant and leans against the wall, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths until he feels somewhat normal again.

“Hey,” says Sirius, only a few minutes later. “You all right?”

Regulus makes himself smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” says Regulus. “I just needed some air.”

Sirius frowns, his eyes searching Regulus’ face. “Okay,” says Sirius, dragging out the word. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” says Regulus. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m really happy for you.”

Despite the obvious worry on Sirius’ face, he can’t seem to fight the smile that crosses his face. “Thank you,” says Sirius. “I’ve been planning to propose for months. I had no idea that Remus was planning the same thing.”

“Yes,” says Regulus with a smirk. “That was obvious from all the laughing.”

Sirius shakes his head, chuckling slightly. “I was just so surprised. Did you know Remus was going to propose?”

“Nope,” says Regulus, laughing along. “I’m impressed that James was able to keep it a secret for so long.”

Sirius wheezes slightly, a harder laugh shaking his entire body. “I know,” says Sirius. “Especially given his propensity for confessing things the moment he has the chance.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Sirius gives him a jokingly grave look. “Let’s just say I know exactly what you were doing this morning.”

Regulus drops his head into his hands. “Oh, no,” cries Regulus. “Are you serious?”

Sirius cringes, though he’s still somehow laughing. “James means well.” It’s a testament to how much he means that, given that he doesn’t make a Sirius-serious joke.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus spends the night floating. He drifts in and out of conversations, his body taking over for him when his mind goes wandering. He holds Sirius’ hand when he’s next to him and holds his chair when Sirius gets up to check on Regulus.

They come back together, Sirius holding Regulus close and whispering in his ear while Regulus laughs helplessly.

When he leaves the restaurant late that night, he calls his father. They speak about once a week, almost like clockwork, and have since Remus’ mother passed away when he was a young teenager. It’s ridiculously late, but his father still picks up on the second ring.

“Everything okay?” asks Lyall. He always answers his phone calls like that.

“I did it,” says Remus.

Lyall makes a choking sound. “What’d he say?”

“He said yes,” says Remus.

They’re not close, not really, but his father congratulates him with the same enthusiasm he had when Remus tells him anything, and Remus strangely feels like crying. He manages to fight it off, and after only a few short minutes, he hangs up the phone with his dad. Sirius is right next to him a second later

“So is he coming to the wedding?” asks Sirius with a mischievous grin.

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be there.”

“Good,” says Sirius. He looks back at the rest of their party. Effy and Fleamont are in the process of saying good night to everyone, and the rest of the group is trying to decide on what club they want to go to next.

Remus still feels like he’s floating, but it’s not bad. There’s no way it could be bad.

Not with Sirius right next to him, wearing the ring Remus gave him. Not with James and Peter laughing together only a few steps away. Not with Regulus pressed into James’ side, the quiet contentment of someone who finally feels safe on his face. Not when they’re all so loved.

He kisses Sirius, thoroughly and for long enough that the rest of the group starts heckling them.

“I love you,” says Remus.

Sirius only grins.