Chapter Text
The morning sun barely peeks through the faded motel curtains when Regulus blinks awake, the dull throb of exhaustion still clinging to his limbs. He groans quietly, sitting up, muscles sore from the awkward way he'd slept curled up on the stiff mattress. A knock on the door startles him.
“Regulus? You up?” James’ voice filters through, hesitant but light.
He hesitates only a second before padding barefoot to open the door. James stands there holding two to-go cups and a paper bag that smells suspiciously like over-buttered toast and cheap hash browns.
“I figured we’d both need this if we’re going to survive another day in the car with my elite driving skills,” he says, smirking.
Regulus snorts, taking the cup, noticing how his cup is filled with strawberry juice instead of coffee. He barely remembers mentioning to James his beverage preference and is surprised the man remembered it. He bites his lip to refrain from smiling like a teenager. “You mean your vehicular homicide attempts?”
James gasps in mock-offense. “I’ve only almost killed us, like, twice.”
Regulus quirks a brow. “Five times.”
James rolls his eyes. “It’s the vibe that counts.”
After getting ready for the road and packing up, they sit on the trunk of the car to eat, the motel behind them quiet except for the hum of an old AC unit and the distant buzz of traffic. Regulus chews slowly, grateful for the silence. He’s not used to company, much less someone so... easy to be around.
“You were pretty upset last night,” James says gently after a moment.
Regulus sighs. “Yeah.”
“I’m not gonna ask about it. But I’m here if you... y’know. Want to talk.” James gestures vaguely, his whole face earnest.
Regulus is quiet for a second. “Thanks,” he says. Then, because it feels right, he adds, “I’ll definitely take you up on it before you kill us on the road.”
James laughs, and Regulus tries very hard not to smile like an idiot.
Ten minutes later, they are on the road, the music is low, a background hum beneath the rhythm of tires on asphalt. James hums along sometimes, tapping the steering wheel. Regulus doesn’t say much, watching the scenery blur by—fields, open stretches of forest, the occasional roadside diner or abandoned billboard.
Conversation, when it happens, is simple. Easy.
Until James breaks the silence. “So… You travelled from the UK to America just to see Sirius Black?”
Regulus stiffens almost imperceptibly.
James continues, trying to keep it casual. “I mean. People travel for music all the time, I guess. But wouldn’t it be easier to wait him to tour in a place near you?”
Regulus turns his head toward the window. “I like his music.”
James glances at him briefly, an uptick in his mouth. “You don’t strike me as a huge Sirius Black fan.”
Regulus raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dunno. You seem more… orchestral. You look like you listen to stuff with, like, eight-minute violin solos and piano background.”
A corner of Regulus’ mouth quirks up. “A guy can’t like both?”
James smirks at the pun, but shruggs. “Just curious.”
Regulus doesn’t answer, eyes drifting out the window again. He fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, twisting it around his fingers until it’s stretched and loose.
James doesn't press. Just lets the quiet return.
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The road stretches endlessly again, another backdrop of dusty highways and lonely gas stations. They fill the car up in a small town, bickering over which snacks they should buy.
They take turns choosing radio stations, and by midday they’re singing off-key out the open windows. Regulus feels... lighter than he has in years.
At one point, they stop at a roadside diner that looks like a horror movie set. The waitress doesn’t blink when James two orders of sloppy joe’d pancakes with a side of mashed potatoes.
“Your manners are astounding,” Regulus mutters, sipping his sweet iced tea.
James grins, mouth full. “Thank you. I try.”
Regulus watches him, chin in hand. “You know, I don’t get you.”
“That’s fair. I’m a mystery wrapped in a riddle wrapped in traffic violations.”
Regulus snorts. “No, seriously. You pick up a stranger off the floor, helps him out of a panic attack and offers him free tickets for a sold-out show with meet and greet and a cross-country trip.”
James’ smirk fades a little. He leans back in the booth, a lazy smile in his lips.“My best friend had panic attacks very often, we lived together, so I was there for mostly all of them. I know it’s scary and honestly terrifying to feel that way. That’s why I helped you that night, I couldn't just... Stand by and not help someone.” The words hit Regulus, warming him up from inside, until his cheeks redden. “And for the tickets, I wasn’t lying when I said my friend cancelled on me, she literally had a baby,” He explains tapping on his phone until a picture of a red-haired girl in a hospital bed with a baby in her arms and a black woman smiling so brightly by her side, he couldn’t help but smile back. “His name is Harry! Harry James!” The man gushed.
Regulus frowns, eyebrow quirked up. “He’s named after you? Are you his godfather then?”
James laughs nervously, retrieving the phone back to his pocket. “No, he already has a godfather, I am kind of… His father.”
Regulus eyes widen, his mouth slack.
“It’s not what you’re thinking! Lily and Mary are his moms, I just kind of... donated, they wanted a baby, and the three of us know each other since we were like, ten. They insisted on naming him after me.”
Regulus nods understanding. “Makes sense, If Pandora asked me, well… She wouldn’t, of course, but if she did and I could, I’d also say yes.” He reasons gently. “My family was a mess when I was younger. I haven’t talked to my parents or my… Brother, in nearly five years. Narcissa was the only one who decided I was worth something after my parents were done with me, she took me in and her husband, he’s…" Regulus sighs, unable to put in words what the couple means to him. "They’re gonna be parents, you know, having a baby any day now. You know what they said? That I’d be a good brother to him.” He laughed mirthlessly.
James frowned, invested in his story.
“But how can I be? If the only role model I had of an older brother left when I was fourteen? He told me he loved me in his goodbye note. But he still packed his things and vanished, he never even looked for me after my 18th birthday either. He just— ran away and pretended I didn’t even exist.” He finishes his rant breathless. Rage coursing through his blood, , “When I see him again…" he falters and melts back on the booth. "I... I don’t even know what I’ll do.”
Not knowing what he could say to make Regulus feel better, James remains quiet. So they finish eating, James paid and then drove well into the evening again, the sky bruising purple and orange. Somewhere around the border, James lets Regulus take the wheel, but only after ten minutes of loud protest and a full-on performance of “If I Die Young” in mock eulogy.
Regulus ignores him and drives anyway. He likes the way James eventually falls asleep in the passenger seat, mouth slightly open, arms crossed. For once, Regulus feels like the responsible one. He watches the highway curve ahead, the evening slowly swallowing up the sun, and wonders what he had in mind for doing all this.