Until the sun comes up

by moonagedaydreamsx

Summary:

Sometimes, like right now, Regulus wondered why he was still playing the part of a pawn. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t disappeared of the face of the earth like his estranged brother had.

It wasn’t that easy though, not anymore.

He was the spare, he was never supposed to inherit but when he got down to it, he didn’t mind working for the family. Sure, it was a corrupt and dirty business, but it was satisfying all the same when an under-the-table deal worked.
----
A university AU

Notes:

Disclaimer: JKR sucks ass and if I could untangle her from all traces of this story, then I would.
If you support her, then don't read.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 1: This house is a circus

Regulus sighed. The pressure was pulsing against his skull. It wasn’t new to him and yet it never seemed to get easier. His phone buzzed again, reminding him of the deadline, reminding him of who he was. Breathing slowly, mechanically, he picked it up and it showed him that his parents wanted him at dinner this evening. His reply was short, he’d be there. He didn’t have a choice.

His laptop was shimmering against the harsh fluorescents of the dorm room lights. His eyes flickered up to the post-it notes of assignment dates pinned into the soft cork of the board hanging from his drab walls and then back down to his phone to check the current date.

Sometimes, like right now, Regulus wondered why he was still playing the part of a pawn. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t disappeared of the face of the earth like his estranged brother had. It wasn’t that easy though, not anymore. He was the spare, he was never supposed to inherit but when he got down to it, he didn’t mind working for the family. Sure, it was a corrupt and dirty business, but it was satisfying all the same when an under-the-table deal worked. He had liked it growing up because it had made him feel powerful, useful. The power was addictive, the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted, however dirty it was, as long as the deal got done. The power and the fortune that his family sat on would protect him. And it did, every time. People knew who Regulus was, they looked at him with fear and respect in their eyes, and however much he wanted to pretend that he was different, he liked the feeling that came with invincibility.

There were times that Regulus wondered if he could fundamentally change the structure of the British political system. With a family name like his and the undeniable power that it provided, maybe he could be better. Do better. At the moment, that was merely a fictional thought but possibly, if he worked hard enough, became more than he was, more than he should be, then maybe.

Regulus rolled his neck until it popped satisfyingly and kicked at the underside of his desk. A reminder shone on his laptop screen, lecture 609 (French History) in twenty minutes. He swung his chair sideways so that he could reach his favourite sweatshirt; a deep green hoodie that read ‘catch of the day’ across the front with a little embroidered fish on the pocket. Barty had bought it for him last Christmas as a joke, but it was the comfiest jumper that Regulus had ever owned. He jammed his laptop and rogue notes into his bag and tightened the laces on his ratty black converse. They needed replacing desperately but his best friend, Pandora, had embroidered swirls of stars across the material last year and Regulus had become very attached to them.

He popped into his little shared kitchen before leaving to make himself a gigantic cup of earl grey. As the kettle was boiling, one of his housemates entered the kitchen, Dorcas. She sat at the breakfast bar facing Regulus and smiled politely. He didn’t know her very well, but she always seemed kind, a little manic perhaps, but kind all the same.

He nodded towards her as he pushed the lid to the travel mug down securely.

“Are you heading out?” She asked.

“Yeah, I have a lecture in,” He checked his watch, “Ten minutes, I better hurry up”

“Cool. Well, Lily and Marlene were talking about having a movie night in the flat with everyone tonight, if you were about? I’ll ask Frank when he’s up too.”

Reg cringed internally; he really did not want to socialise with his housemates. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice, they were, but they asked too many questions. If anything, Regulus thought that they were too friendly.

“Yeah sure,” Regulus walked towards the front door, “If I’m around, I’ll try to make it.”

He shut the front door a little too hard and kicked at a stone on the path. He probably wouldn’t make an appearance tonight; he couldn’t really be asked to play nicely. It was difficult, his whole life was an act, and he didn’t want to add another scene into the play that he was currently acting out.

He slipped into the lecture theatre and into a seat near the back, somewhere in the shadows. His headphones were blaring music loud enough to block out any thoughts in his mind. Reg briefly lent back against the seat; his head tilted up towards the vaulted ceiling. He felt the dip in seat as someone took a place somewhere a little further down his row and took that as a cue to get his laptop out, his lecturer would be there any second.

His music was still pulsing against his eardrums as he felt someone tap his arm. He flinched slightly sideways, away from the intruding touch, ripped his headphones off and swung a particularly dirty glare towards the culprit.

“Sorry,” Amusement danced across the other man’s features, “Didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to ask if you knew what this lecture was about.”

“You didn’t scare me,” Regulus snapped back.

“Right, sure. So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Know what the lecture is about?” A grin was twisting against his mouth.

“It’s French history,” Regulus ground his teeth together in annoyance, “Like it inevitably stated on the door that you just came in through.”

“Nice, thank you,” The other man smiled kindly, which annoyed Regulus even more, “I’m new here, just transferred over from Oxford. My name is…”

“I don’t care,” Regulus interrupted and slid his headphones back over his ears.

He dared one last glance at the person sitting beside him and felt anger flare in his stomach. The other man was trying to suppress a grin, like whatever Regulus had said, had amused him greatly.

Luckily the lecture was over relatively quickly. Regulus had made an effort to not look at the other person again. He stuffed his laptop into his bag and slid past the man, pressing up against the wall as much as possible so that he didn’t touch him in the slightest. Regulus could feel his eyes following him out the lecture theatre, so he made a little bit of a show about slamming the door shut after himself.

As he stepped into the early afternoon sunshine, he took a deep breath and made a mental note to turn up a little later to his next lecture to make sure that he could find an isolated seat. It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends, he did, he just didn’t need anymore. He had enough to manage without trying to balance the delicacy of new friendships.

His eyes flickered to his watch, and he saw that he has a spare fifteen minutes between lectures. He beelined straight for the campus café, it was a little overpriced, but it wasn’t as if money was an issue for Regulus.

Once his cup was refilled with another ungodly amount of tea, he marched towards the next lecture hall. He was cutting the timings a little closely but if he picked up the pace, he would probably make it just in time. He didn’t mind cutting his one a little close, Barty shared this lecture which meant he’d have a seat saved anyways.

He pushed into the theatre a little late and several eyes turned to him as the loud screech of the door opening interrupted the lecturer. He stood straighter out of habit and narrowed his eyes at anyone that dared to look at him, which had everyone turning back to the lecture pretty quickly. Except for one person and Regulus knew without looking that it was the annoying man from the last lecture. Regulus was a lot of things, but he wasn’t pathetic, so he turned his glare onto the man. He dropped his gaze, but a secret little smile made its way onto his face which pissed Regulus off. Who did he think he was?

He dropped his stuff onto the floor next to the empty seat left for him and placed his laptop on the little table attached to the chair.

“You’re in a chirpy mood today then?” Barty said sarcastically.

Regulus whacked him in the arm and took a long sip of earl grey.

“Cute jumper though,” Barty whispered, grinning, a shimmer in his eyes.

“Barty, could you shut up because unlike some of us here, I actually need this degree,” Regulus whispered back, his eyes fixated on his laptop as he took down some notes.

“Regulus Black,” Barty mocked rolling his eyes, “You do not need this degree, you want this degree, there’s a difference.”

“Yeah well, we can’t all be a disappointment Barty,” Reg snapped, his muscles tensing.

Barty huffed back and snatched Reg’s tea from his desk. He inhaled most of it and prodded at Regulus’s arm every now and again to make it clear that he thought Regulus was wasting his potential by adhering to the expectations that his parents had put on him.

Regulus tried not to care too much. It wasn’t that he was a try-hard for his parent’s sake, like Barty was suggesting. It was simply that Regulus found political history interesting and it just so happened that his parents also wanted him to finish this particular degree and perhaps they also wanted him to go into politics just like them. It wasn’t that he was doing it for them, but he also wasn’t not doing it for them. Regulus liked to please. The only time he ever received praise was when he got accepted onto this course and he intended to graduate with a first. And then maybe, just maybe, he could slowly and very carefully restructure the type of corrupt politics that his parents practiced. Or maybe not but at least, if he went into the family business, they would be proud of Regulus.

Barty couldn’t understand because he revelled in being a disappointment. Call it machoistic but Barty seemed to like watching people give up on him. His father was in politics too, like Reg’s family. Unlike Regulus, Barty wasn’t taking a political history degree to take over the head of the family, he was studying it because it pissed his father off and partly because he wanted to stay near Regulus.

Reg would never admit it out loud, but he was secretly glad that Barty followed him to university. A fresh start was out of the question for Regulus; he was put on his fated path as soon as he was born and pushed into the limelight as soon as his brother jumped ship. And so, if he couldn’t have a fresh start, it was comforting to him that he could still have Barty.

By the end of the lecture, Regulus’s brain was slightly fried. His laptop battery was hanging on by the grace of God and he had bitten his lip hard enough to taste the metallic ache of blood. Barty was dozing off in the seat next to him and as people started leaving their own seats, Regulus turned sideways and punched Barty’s thigh.

“Hi babe,” Barty’s voice was ridden with sleep, “time to go?”

“You’d know exactly what time it was if you ever paid attention”

“I don’t need too,” He yawned and lazily smiled at Reg, “You pay attention enough for the both of us.”

Someone coughed off to Regulus’s other side and he swung his eyes over to look at the interruption. The man from earlier waved at him and Regulus held his gaze, a little curious but not curious enough to do anything other than stare.

Regulus stood up and slipped his bag over both arms. The man from before was stood by the door, watching. Barty closed in. He tucked his arm around Regulus’s shoulder and made a show of leaving the theatre with Reg glued to his side. Regulus was interested to see the man’s eyes narrow significantly at this. Barty was smirking tightly back. Their eyes never leaving each other’s, the other man drew himself taller as Barty and Reg passed. Reg rolled his eyes at the two of them and pushed away from Barty. He wasn’t doing this. Barty might like to irritate people, but Regulus didn’t have the time to play silly games.

“Who was that?” Barty’s tone was odd, but Reg was too tired to think too much about it.

“I don’t know,” Reg muttered and quickened his pace so he could make it back to the flat and change before he needed to be at the stupid dinner with his parents tonight.

Barty scoffed.

“I really don’t know Barty, I haven’t seen him before today. He sat next to me in French history,” Regulus sighed, “And I really don’t care. So, you can stop playing at whatever game is forming in your thick skull.”

Barty tutted sarcastically, “Aw you really know how to win me over”

Regulus rolled his eyes and carried on walking faster, “I’m not trying to win you over, I don’t have time and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to win you over.”

They both knew that was a lie but for once Barty didn’t rise to it. He kept quiet and trailed behind Regulus. It’s not that they had ever dated or even ever tried to date but there was an undeniable attraction between them both. Regulus wasn’t blind, Barty was fit. He was all sharp muscle and quick wit. Miles of heavily tattooed skin, soft hair, almost black eyes. He looked dangerous. He crashed through life with an aggressive chaos, being near Barty was like doing a line before a night out. It was addictive. Regulus would never admit it but there was a want that pulsed through his veins whenever he was near Barty. They would undoubtedly be together if Regulus could just give up playing at being the perfect son, but he couldn’t. Not now and not ever. So, Barty pushed, and Regulus almost let him and instead of being anything more, they ended up here.

Barty followed Regulus into his room and settled on his bed, his back against Reg’s headboard. This was normal for them, to spend most of their time together. Regulus got depressive and Barty got destructive if they were left alone for too long.

Reg shimmied out of his clothing and dug through his wardrobe for his brown slacks and sage green shirt. He pulled on his dress shoes and ran a hand through his hair. He looked into the mirror and shivered as he realised that he didn't recognise the reflection staring back. Barty stepped behind him and took off his necklace, it was a silver wolf pendant no bigger than Regulus’s thumb nail, and gently secured it around Regulus’s throat.

A door slammed and laughter rang out in the hallway. Regulus flinched at the noise and the wisp of a moment between the two men shuddered into an early grave. Reg closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Barty offered softly.

“No,” Regulus shook his head.

While Barty’s intentions may have been good for once, Regulus wasn’t stupid. He was important in the political scene and turning up to an organised dinner with anyone would make a statement but turning up with Barty Crouch Jr? Now that would be the nails in Regulus’s coffin.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror and sighed. He missed the times that his brother was the important one, the times where he would tell Regulus what to wear, the times where he would steal Regulus’s favourite dessert from the table so that they could share it in the solace of his room after the event. But Sirius made his choices, and Regulus had dug his own grave and now he needed to lay in it. So, with a careful breath, he pushed the thought of Sirius into the deepest corners of his mind and opened his room door. Glancing one last time at Barty for comfort, he saw Barty making himself at home on Reg’s bed, no doubt readying himself for a nap.

“It’s you!” A voice sounded from the kitchen and when Regulus looked up, it turned out that the voice was talking directly to him.

Regulus’s eyebrows knitted together as his eyes fell once again upon the man from earlier. His eyes flickered around the rest of the kitchen and met his housemate, Lily’s; she was looking curiously between the man and Regulus.

“You two know each other?” Lily asked not unkindly.

“No,” Regulus frowned, “We don’t.”

“I’m James,” The man offered grinning.

“I didn’t ask,” Regulus replied.

James's grin widened. 

“Regulus, that’s not very nice. James is new, so I invited him to our movie night” Lily narrowed her eyes slightly. She turned towards James, “He’s always like this, don’t take it personally.”

Regulus gritted his teeth in response, he wished she wouldn’t talk for him. Lily carried on a previous conversation with James that Reg wasn't part of so he took that as his cue to leave.

He straightened his shirt as he pushed open the doors to the restaurant. It was a top end establishment in the business part of London. A dinner like this one no longer made him nervous, just tired. Looking around for a familiar face, he made sure to stand a little taller than normal, to have a stoic expression. Let nothing show, his mother’s voice hissed in his head, her nails piercing his skin, emotions ruin deals and yours will ruin this family if you don’t get a hold of yourself.

Orion, his father, waved him over to the private function room and Regulus walked forward. Shutting off any part of himself that had potential to disappoint his family.

“Regulus, my son,” Orion smiled like a snake sizing up his prey, “take a seat.”

He pulled the chair next to him out and Regulus sat. His eyes skimming over the people at the table, mentally noting who had what power and who exactly he would need to impress the most.

“Father,” He nodded, he lent forward to see his mother sitting on his father’s other side and smiled carefully, “Mother.”

His mother didn’t even offer him a glance, which meant that he had upset her. He wasn’t yet sure how but he knew that he’d better figure it out fast if he wanted to return to university later that evening. A mild panic began to hum underneath his pale skin. He refused to let it show, he knew better than that. He bit down on his tongue hard until the familiar metallic ache flared up again. There was a special type of comfort in pain and for several years after his brother had left, it was the only type of comfort that he was offered. It was familiar and it helped calm his racing thoughts. He wasn’t stupid he knew this relief was temporary but only needed to keep it together long enough to make it out of this dinner alive.

He played his part well. He joined into debates when Orion wanted him too, he repeated the same opinion held by his parents, he remembered to echo their sentiments. He purposefully sort out the wealthiest in the room and made sure to individually speak with them, remembering to lay it on thick, he knew he was objectively pretty and if playing off his looks elevated his status, he’d do it. There was little he wouldn’t do during a political dinner such as this one. He fluttered his eyelashes and placed his hands on arms and a little too low to be unintentional on waists. Their eyes shone with desire and followed Regulus around the room like he was prey to be captured. Walburga watched every interaction intently, her eyes sharper than the edge of a blade.

After the first few people saw themselves out with a long round of goodbyes, fake promises, and cruel smiles. Regulus approached his mother carefully. He’d been playing this game for as long as he had been alive. Her eyes flickered momentarily down to Regulus’s throat, and he fought the urge to flinch away.

The necklace.

That was the issue. She’d noticed the necklace.  

Regulus gritted his teeth. He knew better than to wear it into an evening like this one, but it offered him a safety blanket while he was making his way over and then he’d forgot to remove it. A slip up. He’d messed up. Panic flared up against his iron like posture.

“Mother,” He nodded his head in respect.

She stepped forward, eyes narrowing, her left hand rising slowly. He noticed that her nails were sharpened into talon like claws as she reached forward and snapped off the necklace with one sharp, painful, tug. The metal bit into Regulus’s neck as it was torn onto the floor and he remained emotionless except for the animalistic fear that sat in the slight widening of his eyes.

She took hold of his arm and walked him out of the room. To any on-lookers it would appear like a mother-son conversation was taking place, perhaps muttered pride, inside jokes, maybe even maternal warmth.

Her nails dug into his skin, piercing through and drawing out a deep crimson that shone loudly against his pale skin. Regulus didn’t react. He knew better. She tore her nails downwards, merging the tiny holes into one long line across his forearm and down to the inside of his wrist.

“Don’t you ever embarrass your father and I like that again,” Walburga hissed, her voice poisonous to even the air surrounding them, “do I make myself clear?”

“Yes mother,” Regulus swallowed, his posture straightening out of respect and pure terror, “Of course mother, I apologise.”

“Do you know what statement you just made?”

“Yes mother,” Regulus lowered his eyes to the floor. He didn’t think he had actually made any statement, the necklace was long enough to be mainly hidden beneath his shirt and if anyone saw it, he doubted that they thought anything more than he had chosen to wear a necklace that day.

“Why is it so difficult for you to make us proud?” Her words bit into his skin deeper than her nails ever could. Regulus felt repulsion for himself rise and stain into his soul.

“I’m sorry mother, it won’t happen again.”

“If it does, you’ll be dead,” She promised and pushed past him back out into the private room towards Orion.

Regulus checked he was alone in the little corridor alcove and then his breathing quickened. Panic danced down his throat and filtered into his lungs. If he went back inside bleeding, his mother would kill him. If he left without saying his official goodbyes, his father would kill him.

He knew better than to wear Barty’s necklace. That was an inexcusable error, a child’s mistake.

His arm wouldn’t stop bleeding. He held it away from his body so that the blood fell against the stone tiles and not against his clothing.

He texted Barty and asked him to bring a new shirt quickly. Regulus had ten minutes before this night properly imploded on him and he lost all political and familial standing. Barty was there in seven.

Regulus met him outside the fire escape. They were well versed in this. He pulled the sage green shirt over his head and swapped it for Barty’s dark blue one. The darker shirt was good, blood wouldn’t show like it would on the light material of his own shirt. He could feel Barty’s eyes on his arm and then his face.

“It’s fine,” Regulus’s words punched out of him in warning, “leave it alone, Barty.”

“Look at what she’s done to you,” Barty spat, his eyes ablaze with fury.

“Please,” Regulus whispered, “Don’t. I’ve had much worse than a scratched arm Barty, it’s fine. Go home.”

An unreadable expression brushed across Barty’s face as he backed away. Regulus didn’t spare him another look as he walked back inside, letting the door swing loudly shut behind him.

He pled his goodbyes. Played at being the perfect son until the event was over. Until his skin burnt from allowing sleazy men and immoral women to touch him and stood elegantly still as their eyes drunk him in until they got their fill of the beauty that was Regulus Black.

He slammed the flat door shut and let out a loud breath. Regulus felt dirty, his skin was crawling with the need to be scrubbed clean over and over again until it was raw.

“You’re bleeding,” A soft voice sounded from in front of Regulus.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter for a second and then opened them to find James stood there, “I know.”

James stepped closer and Regulus flinched against the closed door. James’s expression flickered but it wasn’t pity that appeared, it was merely a gentle concern as if he was well versed in dealing with situations like this.

The door behind James swung open and a loud voiceover rung clear. The movie night that Regulus had apparently forgotten about was in full swing in their little shared kitchen and Lily stuck her head around the door frame, keeping half an eye on the film inside.

“James, you’re missing the best bit,” she told him.

He was still staring at Regulus, his back was to Lily, “Just coming.”

Lily’s expression shifted as she realised, they weren’t alone. She smiled kindly “Reg, hi. We knocked on your door before we started the movie, but you didn’t answer.”

“I wasn’t in,” He offered up.

“We’re watching mean girls if you want to join.”

“Reg, come and join,” Marlene’s voice echoed from the kitchen, and he heard Dorcas and Frank hum in agreement.

“Maybe later,” Regulus tried to smile but judging by James and Lily’s reaction it was more of a grimace.

Lily shrugged and went back inside. James followed Regulus slowly towards his room, “I’m fine, go watch the film.”

“But you're bleeding.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” Regulus inhaled sharply, he just wanted to be left alone. He deserved to be alone.

“I can help if you let me,” James was being too gentle and it made Regulus defensive, he could look after himself perfectly fine.

Regulus’s door opened and Barty stood in the frame, he rolled his shoulders back, it was clear that he was still riled up and desperate for a fight.

James looked between the two of them several times and raised his eyebrows.

“You again,” Barty’s voice was a graveyard.

James didn’t react; his eyes fixated on Regulus. Barty stepped forward and Regulus pushed him hard back inside his room, “I’m fine,” He threw out the doorway at James before slamming it shut to trap Barty inside with him.

“Stop it,” Regulus ordered, “I’m fucking tired. Sit down.”

Barty ran his tongue over his teeth but nevertheless sat on the edge of Regulus's bed. Reg rolled his sleeves up and held his arm out to examine. His wound was deeper than he'd have liked it to be but he'd definitely dealt with much worse before. He opened his bedside draw and took out a travel first-aid kit and methodically cleaned and wrapped his lower arm. It was a little relaxing if Regulus was honest, he was used to patching himself up and it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. He was an idiot to have worn someone else jewellery to a dinner like that one, the only solace Reg had was that Walburga didn't know it was Barty's necklace. He wouldn't be standing there if she had known. He'd be dead. 

"What happened?" Barty's voice was deadly and Regulus swung around to look at him. 

"Nothing important," Regulus raised an eyebrow. 

"Don't lie to me."

"I can do whatever I want to, thank you," Regulus snapped, "It was my own fault, so leave it alone." 

Barty's muscles were tensed under his tightly cut tshirt, his feet firmly on the ground like he was ready to jump up and fight for Regulus honour or something just as ridiculous. Regulus sighed. He slid forward in-between Barty's legs and slowly, purposefully, he ran his hand down the side of Barty's face. 

Reg tugged at Barty's hair, "Please leave it alone." 

Barty exhaled sharply, "Fine, okay but I'm not happy about it." 

Reg tiredly smiled, "Noted. Now move over." 

Regulus slid under the covers as panic gently shimmered over his body. He needed to do better. To be better. 

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!

Barty AND James being possessive??
Someone wrap Reg up in a safety blanket please.

LILY, oh how I love her.

Don't worry there won't be any Sirius bashing, he shall make his appearance with a little time.
And so will Remus, THE man, the myth, the legend.

Please let me know your thoughts!
See ya on the next update (on saturday) :)

Come talk to me about this on tumblr @lilyflxwers

Chapter 2: The view from the afternoon

Regulus woke suddenly as his room door slammed closed, dragging him out of a peaceful dream. He shot to his feet, heart pounding. For a moment, he forgot where he was. The wind was ominously twirling against the papers strewn across his desk and the curtains were pulled open to reveal the soft light of the early morning. Regulus turned slowly around, making sure to clock everything in his line of sight. No Barty. That must have been the noise, Barty leaving. Reg deflated, the adrenaline still squeezing his veins uncomfortably tight.

He sighed. He’d never be able to get back to sleep now. His body was intimately acquainted with the taste of fear and the adrenaline kept him from relaxing. He knew that he wasn’t in actual danger; he wasn’t in the family house after all but there was no getting that through to his brain. He was born and raised into fear so his body had never known any different. 

The paper fluttered dangerously close to the edge of the desk as Regulus passed and stuffed his feet into his fluffy black slippers, swinging his door back open as he went. He quietly wandered to the kitchen and rolled his eyes hard to see used glasses still standing on the table like knights ready for battle. He would never understand what exactly his housemates found so difficult about cleaning up after themselves. Oh well, it wasn’t as if Regulus was in a rush, he gathered the glasses and the dirty pizza trays and put them into the sink. He popped the kettle on and began scrubbing. Regulus would never admit it, but he liked cleaning, it made him feel useful, and having everything stripped clean calmed him down. It was an old habit. Had he left even a hint of dirt in the family house, he wouldn’t be eating meals for a week straight. It wasn’t ideal parenting, he could admit that, but rules were rules and Regulus liked rules. He liked to know where he stood, and he also liked not to starve and bleed. Rules were safe.

It took the best part of an hour to wash up and scrub the surfaces clean to his standards. He was running hot water into the slightly decrepit mop bucket when the kitchen door squeaked on its hinges. Reg hummed to himself quietly, nerves rising in his body. He didn’t like to be interrupted cleaning. It would have gotten him into an emotional torture session back home, he wasn’t allowed to dirty anything sure but he also wasn’t a one of the housemaids. If his mother caught him tidying, then she’d make him bleed, I’ll give you something to clean up, she’d tell him.

“Morning,” A sleepy voice murmured against the harsh memory. 

“Morning,” Regulus replied stiffly.

“Cuppa?” The voice questioned, putting the forgotten kettle back onto boil.

Regulus turned and came face to face with James. Regulus’s mind jumped. What was he doing still in Regulus’s house? Did this man not have a house of his own? Was he stalking Reg?

“Uh,” Regulus looked passed James and saw Lily’s door ajar. He raised his eyebrows. Oh. “Sure, yeah. Earl grey please.”

Regulus moved closer to James, towards his cupboard, and took two mugs out of it. He placed them gently in front of the kettle, one with an art museum logo on – from his job, and one with a prettily painted ‘R’ on the front – he’d gotten it in secret Santa from his workplace last Christmas, it was one of his most prized possessions.

Regulus dragged the heavy mop bucket out of the sink and onto the floor and then carefully dipped the luminous pink mop into it. Frank, one of his housemates, had insisted that a brightly coloured mop would inspire him to clean regularly but Reg was yet to see him become inspired.

James stifled a gentle laugh and Regulus looked at him, “What?”

“Nice mop.”

“It’s Franks’,” Regulus rolled his eyes defensively.

“Looks good on you,” James smirked.

“It’s a mop,” Reg deadpanned

“Really brings out the colour in your eyes,” James was full on grinning now.

Regulus narrowed his eyes and glared at James.

The kettle whistled loudly and signalled that the water was ready to be poured into cups. James hummed under his breath, a song that Regulus couldn’t place, but James would be damned if he thought he’d ask.

James handed Regs’ tea over to him and he nodded in thanks before placing it on the kitchen island so that he could finish mopping the room first. James plopped himself on the sofa.

“Don’t you need to go back to Lily?” Regulus suggested, hoping he would leave so that Reg could finish cleaning the room without feeling on edge.

“She’s asleep and anyways, I spent the night with her.”

Reg raised both eyebrows.

“Well,” James flushed a delicate pink, “Not like that, I just meant she might want a rest from my constant yapping.”

“Oh, lucky me then,” Regulus said sarcastically.

The little smile that danced in the corner of James’s mouth, anytime that Regulus was mean to him, was back.  

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Work,” Regulus didn’t bother to correct him.

“What does he do?” James asked appearing genuinely curious.

“Works in the nursery on campus.”

James opened his eyes widely, “Doesn’t look the type.”

“What does he look the type to do then?” Regulus shot back defensively.

Though he couldn’t really disagree, Barty looked dangerous, not like he worked with young children. He originally applied for the job because it would piss his father off but the more, he worked there, the more he loved it. Which was why, two years down the road, he was still working there alongside studying for his degree.

James held his hands up in mock surrender and Regulus went back to mopping.

The sun continued to rise outside the window as Regulus finished cleaning and he emptied the dirty water carefully down the too-small kitchen sink. His phone alarm sliced through the soft silence that had fallen over the both of them and Reg smirked as he saw James jump out the corner of his eye.

“I’ve got to go,” Regulus offered in the broken silence as he drained the remainder of his tea.

“Where are you going?” James replied, always curious, Regulus thought he better be careful with that.

“Work.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to work alongside your studies,” James muttered as if the thought hadn’t meant to leave his head.

“You’re full of fucking judgement this morning, aren’t you,” Regulus snapped.

“No, not like that,” James began to stand, “I just meant that you look like you’re from money.”

Regulus didn’t dignify that with an answer. Just because he was from money, it didn’t mean that he owed this intruder in his house, an explanation.

He stomped back into his room and pulled a black tshirt over his head and grabbed his rucksack, swinging it onto his shoulders. Slipping his beloved converse on, he raked a hand through his unruly curls. They were getting too long, if he looked in the mirror quick enough, he would see his brother staring back. At that unpleasant thought, Regulus thumbed at the long milky scar that ran through his bottom lip down to settle in the dip at the base of his throat. A horrid reminder of a childhood punishment, one where Sirius took the brunt of it. As usual. Reg exhaled heavily, closed his door, tucked the memory far far away, and made his way to work.

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the quiet little art museum that laid on the very edge of the city, almost hidden in the shadows. Regulus liked working there because he got treated the same as the other person that worked here, no one knew his status or if they did, no one gave him special treatment about it.

As he dropped his bag onto the floor behind the till, his manager and the owner, Remus Lupin, waved him over to the new display of Monet paintings.

“Hi Reg,” Remus smiled, the scars on his face tugging hard at his mouth.

“Remus,” Reg nodded back.

“As you know, Eleanor went back to university in Scotland, so we lost her to the Scottish air yesterday,” Remus said, referring to the other person that worked alongside Regulus at the museum, “But I’ve just hired someone else, he came in for a trial shift yesterday and he was a hit with the summerton walkers.”

The summerton walkers were a group of older women that came into the museum every afternoon without fail. Remus had even installed a little coffee machine for the group. So, their opinion was of the highest importance. Regulus was awkward with social interaction, especially to a group of middle aged overly noisy women, so he had absolutely no idea how he’d passed their screening but for some reason, they had taken an immediate liking to him. They had practically adopted Remus and they were well on their way to trying to adopt Regulus as well, it was slightly unnerving but they meant well all the same.

“Ok,” Regulus turned to head back to the till, he rarely shared shifts anyways, the museum wasn’t big enough.

“Reg,” Remus called after him, “I want you to train him up, he’s your responsibility.”

Regulus turned around and gaped at Remus. How could he betray Regulus like this? Remus simply chuckled and sauntered off towards the delivery bay.

He kicked his bag a little harder than necessary, underneath the cabinet by the till, and turned the coffee machine on. The Summerton walkers wouldn’t make an appearance until this afternoon, but Regulus was in dire need of caffeine if he was supposed to be talking to a new person all day.

The methodical sipping of coffee calmed his nerves. He was Regulus Black after all; he didn’t need this job. But he also really didn’t want to let Remus down. Remus was only two years older than Regulus and their friendship had been difficult to navigate at the start but now they rotated carefully around each other, it was easy. He liked it and the last thing he wanted was to be fired because he was unable to train up this annoying newbie.

The stained glass of the museum door shone against the counter as the door was pushed inwards. A blonde man, no older than Regulus himself, stepped inside. The first thing Regulus noticed was the eyebrow piercing, it glinted off the reflecting sun. The second thing was this man’s arms. They were cut thick with muscle, the arms to his tshirt rolled up twice to display them further. Regulus swallowed hard.

“Evan,” The new man grinned and offered his hand.

Regulus shook it three times, “Regulus,” he offered back.

“Neat name,” Evan said as he dropped his bag onto the floor by Regulus.

“Not really,” Reg replied rolling his eyes, “No one ever knows how to spell it, and it sounds pretentious.”

“No offence,” Evan smirked, “But with a name like that, there is no sounding pretentious, you simply are pretentious.”

“Well. You’re not wrong,” Regulus was beginning to like Evan a little bit, he reminded him of his brother.

“Thought so,” Evan looked around, “So Reg,” He paused to gauge Regulus’s reaction to the use of the nickname and Reg nodded once, “Show me the ropes.”

The day went by relatively quickly without any major slip ups. Remus came to check in and stayed for a while, nattering to Evan and encouraging Regulus to join in too. Remus was good at mediating a conversation, he was empathetic, and he had a talent with people. He seemed to understand what Reg needed before even Regulus knew.

The last ten minutes of the day rolled around before they knew it. Regulus let out a sigh of relief just as the main door pushed open again, for what he hoped would be the last time today. Regulus smiled broadly as Pandora pranced into the museum, her hair was floating out behind her like angel wings and she had a dress on that looked like it was patched together with the most intricate silk thread, it was beautiful.

“My two-favourite people,” She announced as she skipped up to the till.

“Dora,” Evan grinned and swung her around gently, she squealed in delight, “I didn’t know that you knew Regulus.”

Pandora hummed, “You did too, he’s my Reggie, my petal.”

Evan raised his eyebrows over Pandora’s head and mouthed, “Ah You’re the petal then, nice to meet you.”

“And this is my brother,” She turned to point her finger into Evans chest while looking up at Regulus, “Do you like his hair? He let me do it for the first day of his new job!”

Regulus looked over at Evan, his hair was pulled back into a French braid, the sides were cut shorter than the top so pieces of hair were fluttering out around his face. Regulus had to admit that it made Evan look soft, it contrasted nicely with the jagged cut of muscle under his skin.

“Yeah,” Reg nodded, “I do, it looks good.”

Evan winked at Reg, and he rolled his eyes in response. Pandora none the wiser nodded in agreement with Regulus, “It does!”

The main doors pushed open again and Regulus sighed but before he could open his mouth, Pandora once again squealed loudly. Evan winced at the sound. Regulus did a double take as he realised James and Lily were walking up to the counter as well. He noticed that James looked a little ethereal against the light shining off the stained glass windows, his long lean legs looked gorgeous in the black sports shorts that James had on, a larger loose fitting red hoodie tied around his waist and a black sports top pulled tight across his well-toned stomach. Regulus felt a blush rise on his cheekbones and Evan smirked out the corner of his eye.

Pandora had launched herself at Lily, Lily stumbled slightly against the force of the other girl. Regulus watched as Lily’s face broke into a soft smile, and she left her hand delicately placed in Pandora’s as she was towed towards the till.

“Evan,” She said pointing once again to her brother, “Reggie,” She pointed to Regulus and Evan grinned harder, “James and Lily,” She finished pointing and as a last-minute thought, pointed to herself and said, “and Pandora.”

“Reggie and I,” Evan had a shit eating grin on his face as Regulus scowled at the nickname, “Were just about to close up for the night.”

James was staring at Evan with his eyes narrowed slightly, which was interesting to Regulus, he wondered what Evan had done to be on the receiving end of a stare like that. He watched Evan notice James’s near-death stare but all it seemed to do was encourage Evan to grin harder.

The door pushed inwards again and Regulus all but threw himself on the floor, he just wanted to go home. He looked at the person entering and rolled his eyes. This was feeling a little too close to a family reunion for his liking. He slid past the others at the till to make his way over to Barty.

“Thought I’d come and walk you home,” Barty said looking over Regulus's shoulder distractedly, “I was bored and home alone.” 

“Ok,” Regulus nodded, it wasn't unusual for Barty to come and collect Regulus from work, “Let me grab my…”

“Who is that,” Barty cut in.

Regulus followed his gaze to the till, “Evan, he’s the new hire.”

“He’s hot,” Barty stated, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

“You’re not sleeping with my coworker so you can stop looking at him like that.”

Barty scoffed.

Regulus knew that Barty was used to getting what he wanted. Unfortunately for him, Regulus was also used to getting his way. Barty moved towards that group that had formed around the till and Regulus moved in the opposite direction towards the door, he may as well lock it shut so that no one else could come in.

He took his time locking up, it wasn’t that he didn’t like socialising with Pandora and Lily, but he wasn’t particularly fussed to witness whatever flirting tactic Barty was using. He had stopped flirting so much with Reg recently and it made him feel off balanced. He didn’t necessarily want Barty to flirt with him but it did make him feel wanted and he did want to be wanted. Reg rolled his eyes at himself. Whatever.

“Do you need any help?” James’s voice was soft as if he was approaching a wild animal.

“No,” Regulus sighed, “But thank you for offering.”

James hovered behind Reg as he finished locking the display cabinets and slowly made his way back over to the group. Pandora was perched on the counter and Evan was leaning lightly against her legs, Lily was slightly off to the side, and they were watching Barty talk to Evan. The two girls sharing amused looks every now and again. Evan was smirking deeply at Barty until he saw Regulus walking over and then a complicated expression passed over his face.

“Well,” Reg forced a smile, “That’s it. We’re done for the day.”

James handed Regulus and Evan their bags and Pandora elegantly hopped off the counter.

“Everyone back to ours?” Lily asked and everyone nodded in agreement. Reg pouted. He wished, not for the first time, that he lived alone.

Barty was watching James again as James took a free space by Regulus’s side. Barty purposefully and slowly moved to the other side and took Reg’s hand in his. Making a show out of squeezing it reassuringly and kissing Reg quickly on the side of his face.

“You did good today love,” Barty drawled, eyes catching on James’s.

Regulus rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”

Evan had purposely slowed himself down so that he was walking on James’s other side.

“I didn’t know you were dating,” Evan said, looking between Regulus and Barty.

“Why would you?” Regulus huffed, annoyed that everyone felt the need to get all up in his personal life.

“They’re not,” Pandora spoke loudly from behind them.

James’s eyebrows rose and Evan nodded as if that made sense, which pissed Regulus off, why did that make sense? Did he think that Regulus wasn’t enough for Barty? Regulus pushed away from the group. He wanted to go home and to peace and quiet, not to entertain a house of people. His whole life was entertainment, a show of being someone different, being more than he could ever really sustain. He really didn't need this too. 

Regulus’s phone buzzed and he sighed heavily. There was only one person other than Pandora and Barty that messaged him and because they were both with him, he knew who it was.

{18:36}

Orion: We require you at the house this evening. Be here within the hour.

Regulus briefly closed his eyes. He was so exhausted. Well, that was his relaxing evening down the drain then. He looked down at himself, and then at Barty – he was wearing a white cotton button down which would go fine with Regulus’s black work slacks. Unfortunately, he was also wearing doc martens so Regulus’s starry converse would have to do the trick, which he thought would be acceptable because it would just be his parents and him. It was a risk that he would have to take otherwise he risked being late and then it didn’t matter what he showed up wearing because they’d kill him anyways.

“Barty,” He interrupted whatever conversation had resumed without him there.

Barty looked up, “Yeah”

“I need your shirt.”

James narrowed his eyes like he was trying to figure something out and Evan rose his eyebrows at the request.

Barty tensed suddenly, knowingly, and nodded, “Now?”

“Yeah,” Regulus felt his face getting warm with the attention of the others, “Like right now, I need to have left five minutes ago.”

He nodded and slid it over his head. Regulus didn’t fail to notice Evan’s pupils grow wide, even James opened his mouth at the display. He couldn’t blame them, Barty’s stomach was taut with muscles and tattoos that swirled across his skin and dipped below his waistband. Regulus chucked the shirt on, buttoned it up over his work tshirt and nodded at Barty.

“Do you want my jumper?” James asked Barty, his eyes fixed onto the side of Regulus’s face still trying to figure something out.

“Aw please mate,” Barty replied gratefully and slapped James’s bicep in thanks. He turned towards Regulus, “Want me to come with you?”

It didn’t matter how many times Regulus denied him, Barty would always ask. Regulus thought it was because Barty understood rubbish parenting and he wanted Regulus to know that he would stand by his side if he ever needed it. He wouldn't ever need it but he appreciated the gesture all the same. 

“No,” Regulus turned to the others and waved, “See you all later.”

“Be careful please,” Pandora said ominously.

Regulus caught Barty’s eyes, and they shared a knowing look. He waved one last time, turned in the opposite direction, and paced himself into a jog.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!
I know I said no update til Saturday but I am nothing if not a pushover.

Enter Remus Lupin - only briefly but holy guacamole, I love him.
Enter Evan and Pandora, how cute is their relationship?!
Lily and James being Lily and James but NOT Lily AND James. yknow?
Franks pink mop is an icon in this story idc. It's a star.

Reg works in an art museum and James studies art history,, isn't that awfully convenient? Almost like there's a plan in the making...

Sirius is yet to show up but he's here in spirit. He's not dead, just fashionably late to the story. As per.

Come and have a natter to me about this on tumblr @lilyflxwers
See ya on the next update!! (Saturday fr this time)

Chapter 3: Leave before the lights come on

By the time Regulus made it out from the hellhole that had become his parents house, the stars were scattered across the sky, and the cold breeze was soothing his busted lip. The meeting with his parents had started as well as Regulus could have hoped for, they were testing him to make sure that he could stick to their political sentiment at the upcoming gala, a precursor to elections. He was acing it as per usual, Regulus lived and breathed politics, he could navigate his way through any depth of superficial conversation about the topic. What he hadn’t banked on was a stray question about Sirius, his brother, it had verbally tripped him up. Then he’d crashed and burnt, stumbling his way over half answers and half blind with panic. He knew better than that. He did. Except it had been years since his mother had addressed Sirius’s life at all. It had been years since Regulus had heard the name out of anyone’s mouth, other than his own.

He shivered against the night, it wasn’t too long of a walk back to his flat and had the night gone differently he would have asked Barty to come and walk with him, but he felt like he needed the fresh air. The time to think.

The door frame creaked loudly as he pulled it open. He cringed at the noise. All the lights in the house were off, which wasn’t a surprise, the night-time was slowly creeping its way into the early hours of the morning. Regulus made his way into the kitchen; he needed a cup of tea. He flicked the string of fairy lights, that surrounded the kitchen counter, on and made his way over to the kettle. A rustling off clothing from behind had him spinning around in shock.

“Sorry,” Dorcas whispered, looking slightly guilty.

“It’s okay,” Regulus brought his hand up to scrub at his face, “It was my fault, I didn’t see you.”

“Well, I mean, I was sitting in the dark,” Dorcas said sheepishly.

Regulus turned back to his cupboard, took out two mugs and gently filled them with tea and a little honey, before making his way over to the sofa.

“Thank you,” Dorcas smiled kindly and took the mug that was being held out to her. She frowned at Regulus’s appearance, “What happened?”

Regulus didn’t know if it was the emotional exhaustion or the way the early hours of the morning felt like a safety blanket but he sat heavily next to Dorcas and drew his legs up, to rest his chin on his knees.

“Family issues,” Regulus offered, Dorcas’s frown deepened, “My brother left my life at fifteen, I was thirteen. My parents then tried their hardest to cut everything about him out of the family image, I was forbidden to speak about him. I haven’t got a clue where he is or what he’s doing anymore and I just… Gods, I missed him this evening.”

Dorcas took a long sip of tea and nodded, “I’m sleeping with Marlene.”

Regulus choked on the air, “Marlene? As in, our housemate Marlene?”

Dorcas turned a vibrant pink colour, “Yeah, that’d be the one.”

“Why are you sat in the kitchen in the dark, instead of their room then?” Regulus was pleased for the distraction; it didn’t hurt that he was also partial to a little bit of drama.

“Well, that’s the thing isn’t it,” Dorcas looked at the wall opposite and sipped at her too-hot tea again, “I’m starting to feel like I maybe don’t just want to sleep with Marlene.”

“Ah,” Regulus grimaced for her, “You’ve caught feelings.”

“Yeah,” Dorcas whispered the confession into the air.

Regulus hummed in response. Feelings made everything messy, he’d know.

“What?” Dorcas huffed lightly, “No advice?”

“From me?” Regulus rose his eyebrows in shock.

“You’ve got a boyfriend,” Dorcas mumbled almost embarrassed that she was asking, “How’d you do it?”

Regulus swallowed hard and leant forward on his knees, “I didn’t,” He admitted, “Barty isn’t my boyfriend.”

Dorcas’s mouth dropped open slightly, “Barty isn’t your boyfriend?”

“No,” Regulus sighed heavily, “It’s complicated.”

Dorcas nodded in solidarity, “It always is, isn’t it.”

They marinated in the tired silence of the not-quite-early-morning and the knowledge that romance was fucking them both up. Regulus closed his eyes and listened to the constant tick-tick-tick of the wall clock, it was a comforting constant.

“Right,” Dorcas sat straighter, her voice ordered, “Wait here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow and watched her jog out of the room. He took a long sip of his tea and placed his cup on a table coaster, picking Dorcas's up to place in on a coaster instead of directly on the glass of the table. He rolled his eyes, his housemates must have been raised in a barn, it was the only explanation of how they acted around cleaning and etiquette. She came back not ten minutes later with a massive glittery yellow washbag which she emptied across the little table, in front of Regulus. Nail polishes came tumbling out, clanging loudly against the glass. Regulus cringed hard at the noise, but Dorcas carried on fishing everything out. Next came face masks, then hair bands, and lastly a phone speaker.

Regulus found that he was actually enjoying himself, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Dorcas had painted his nails black with a sparkly topcoat on the fourth nail of each hand. She was sat on the floor in-between Regulus’s legs, and he was braiding her hair. He’d learnt how to French braid a lifetime ago, his brother had long hair for a brief period before their mother hacked it short. Regulus smiled softly at the memory of Sirius begging him to do his hair for him; he’d even bought hair gems, not that he got a chance to wear them, their mother burnt them the following day. Regulus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

The sun began to peak out over the horizon, rain beginning to twirl around the window pane. Regulus and Dorcas found themselves stretched out on the sofa, their legs overlapping in the middle. His thoughts turning to politics. Regulus liked politics, it was interesting, and it could make a difference. The problem was that the difference his families specific branch of politics made, was not a good one. It wasn’t the first time that Regulus wondered why he was still doing this all. But really what option did he have? He was the spare-turned-heir and sure he could run away but there was a large chance that his mother would simply come and find him and even worse, she could go and hunt Sirius down. She hadn’t bothered before because Regulus took his place. The rules were clear as day, one of them had to stay and dedicate their life to the cause. Regulus’s involvement was the only reason that Sirius had successfully left the family. Not that Sirius knew that. Or maybe he did. Regulus didn’t know much about Sirius anymore.

The kitchen door swung open just as Regulus was drifting off to sleep. He flinched slightly and Dorcas peered over the top of the sofa. She blushed deeply and Regulus relaxed again, knowing exactly who was in the kitchen.

“Morning,” Dorcas squeaked slightly. Clearing her throat and blushing harder, she tried again, “Morning.”

Regulus could hear the other person turning to look at them.

“Oh!” Marlene grinned, “Morning.”

They shuffled forward, their slippers loud against the lino flooring in the quiet hours of the morning. Marlene grinned down at Regulus and softened their smile as they looked at Dorcas. Regulus raised his eyebrows slightly; it seemed that maybe Dorcas wasn’t as hopeless in love as they both had earlier thought.

“Sick braid,” Marlene nodded at Dorcas’s hair.

“Thanks,” Dorcas’s whole face took on a pink tinge and she touched the braid with her hand, “Reg did it for me.”

They span back to face Regulus, “Cool! Can you do mine?”

He hesitated for a second and then nodded. Marlene took a place on the floor in front of Regulus, and he swung his legs off the sofa, either side of them. Marlene’s hair was much shorter than Dorcas’s, so it took a lot less time. He was careful, methodical. This reminded him of when he convinced a sobbing Sirius that it didn’t matter their mother had hacked his hair short, he could still braid it for him. Regulus remembers the rising panic, that was the first time that Regulus knew for certain that Sirius wouldn’t survive in that house. He shoved the memory down; it would do no good to salt old wounds.

Lily came into the kitchen not long after Marlene. She was grinning at her housemates and hopping from one foot to the other in excitement.

“I want to be part of this,” She smiled and sat on the floor next to Marlene, laughing softly at something they said.

Dorcas was staring at the two of them, envy crawling its way onto her face.

Regulus coughed, interrupting the gossiping, “Dorcas will have to do yours Lily, she’s better than me anyways.”

Marlene mock gasped, “I want Dorcas to do my hair then!”

“Too late,” Regulus drawled back sarcastically, “I’ve knotted yours all together in a big lump now.”

“Perfect,” Marlene pretended to swoon, “I’ve always wanted that.”

Dorcas threw Regulus a grateful look and Regulus nodded once.

“Right,” Marlene said, their hair now finished, “Who wants a hot chocolate?”

They didn’t wait for an answer. Simply stomping over, as much as one can stomp with blue fluffy slippers, to the kettle. Marlene put some croissants in the oven and precariously carried four large mugs of hot chocolate back over. The rain outside began to thud against the kitchen window, getting heavier every time Regulus dared to look at it. An uneasiness ran through his veins, he didn't like the rain much, it made him feel trapped. 

“I vote that we watch re-runs of love island all day,” Lily said, interrupting Regulus's thoughts and leaning back against Dorcas’s legs.

The other two hummed in agreement and Dorcas looked at Regulus, “You have to stay, you’re legally bound because you missed movie night.”

Marlene was looking at him carefully an odd expression that Regulus didn’t understand. And then they nodded slightly towards the door, and it clicked into place. They were offering Regulus an out. A warmth spread through his chest and smiled softly, shaking his head. He may as well stay, sure he needed to study, but that wasn’t as pressing as whatever delicate warmth he’d found in this little dingy shared kitchen in the middle of London.

“Sure, yeah,” Regulus knocked his leg against Dorcas’s, “Who am I to say no?”

Lily and Dorcas shared a look and grinned at Regulus as if they’d been waiting a long time for this. Marlene raised an eyebrow at him as they squeezed in-between Regulus and Dorcas. They handed over a giant mug of hot chocolate to Regulus and Regulus felt lighter than he had in a very long time.

They were several hours into binge watching love island and trying different facemasks on when the doorbell rang. They all looked around at each other, silently bartering who would get up and go answer the door. Regulus eventually stood up, throwing his arms out in surrender, and rolling his eyes jokingly at the others.

He opened the door inwards, kicking some shoes out of the way as he did. He made eye contact with James, who was standing outside, drenched through from the rain.

For all James bravado he suddenly looked unsure, “I was bored and thought maybe I could come hang out here,” he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, Regulus wished he wouldn’t do that, “But obviously if I’m intruding, I can just leave.”

He turned to leave, and Regulus pulled the door open further, “Hey,” James froze, Regulus exhaled deeply, “Come inside.”

Regulus walked with James to the kitchen and shot him a look that said wait right there. When he stepped back into the room five minutes later, James had a hot chocolate in his hand, and he was eyeing up a couple of nail polishes that Lily had moved near him. Regulus threw him a pair of sweatpants, they were Barty’s, but Regulus wasn’t about to share that with him, and a black hoodie with an oversized spray-painted flower on the front. James grinned and slid out of the room to put the dry clothing on. Regulus wasn’t sure where he was changing but as he discretely glanced out the room, he noticed Lily’s door was open and he rolled his eyes slightly. It made sense he supposed. Lily was beautiful.

He looked over at his three housemates and smiled gently. Lily was wearing dark blue long-sleeved matching pyjamas, they were adorned with stars, and she had light blue socks covered in strawberries on. Dorcas was sitting behind her on the sofa and wearing simple black shorts with a tight sports t-shirt; Regulus was certain that she had never changed out of her clothing from yesterday. And Marlene was wearing grey sweatpants and a loose cropped shirt that showed their stomach when they moved, which Reg had only noticed because he’d seen Dorcas staring intently at them.

James came back into the room and Regulus’s mouth fell open. James looked good, especially in Regulus’s clothes. Oh, dear gods. Regulus turned sharply away from him and tucked himself between Marlene and the arm of the sofa so he didn't do something ridiculous, like climb James in front of everyone. 

They watched another two episodes before Dorcas suggested ordering food. Dorcas and Marlene went to collect the pizzas from campus, zipping themselves up in heavy duty raincoats and slipping on welly boots. Regulus noticed that Marlene’s wellies had little ducks on them because James gasped when he saw them, in pure childlike excitement. He blushed lightly when he realised Regulus was looking at him.

“They’re cool,” He mumbled nodding at Marlene's shoes.

Regulus raised an eyebrow in response and James retreated his hands into the sleeves of his jumper. Lily laughed, breaking the moment and both sets of eyes swung to hers, she was looking up at the tv screen.

“I need to go put a jumper on,” Lily groaned as she stretched her limbs, “It’s bloody cold in this house.”

“Put the heating on,” James suggested gently.

Regulus and Lily gasped at him.

“The heating?” Regulus jokingly shook his head, “In this economy, are you insane?”

Lily smacked James upside the head as she passed him on the way out of the room to search for a jumper. James sighed exasperatedly but had a large smile on his face all the same.

Regulus got up to get plates out of the cupboards and placed them softly on the table in front of James. He took his seat on the sofa, near James, and James turned to face him.

“So,” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth again and Regulus jerked forward slightly, as if he couldn’t stop his body from wanting to bite down on it, “History then?”

He realised that James was referring to his degree and nodded once.

“Yeah,” He hummed, “Political.”

“Cool,” James smiled, “I do art history.”

“I work in an art museum,” Regulus wasn’t sure why he offered that up, James already knew he worked there.

“Not something political then?”

Regulus inhaled deeply, “My family are in politics already.”

James grimaced as if he could understand, “My friends' family used to be in politics,” then he sighed painfully and added quietly, almost to himself, “They still are, I suppose.”

“Do you like it,” James broke the silence again, “Politics I mean.”

“Yeah,” Regulus thought about his reply a little more, “Yeah, I do enjoy it. I prefer political history because you already know the outcome of decisions and as they say, hindsight is 20/20. But,” He took a breath, “Yes, overall, I like politics. It’s a bit like a game, trying to figure out what people are thinking and what they’re willing to sacrifice. It’s satisfying when you manage it.”

James looked at him like he was trying to figure something out. Regulus turned his head away from the attention of it.

“So,” Regulus asked, trying to move the attention away from himself, “Art history huh? Do you like it?”

“Yes,” James gushed, “It completely fascinating, the way art mediums have changed and developed throughout history.”

Regulus nodded, he supposed in a way art and politics weren’t all that different, they both shaped and were shaped by society and culture.

“I wanted to be an artist as a kid,” James confessed “But art was never my strong suit in school. I’d like to be an art curator now.”

“Remus, my boss at the museum, needs a new art curator intern,” Regulus offered, “I can’t guarantee that the museum will particularly be what you are looking for but I can ask?”

A soft pink blush spread across James’s nose and cheekbones, “You would?”

“Sure,” Regulus smiled.

The door slammed open, shaking the frame. Regulus jumped and James pushed himself back into his seat properly so that he wasn’t closing in on Regulus’s personal space bubble. Regulus turned so that he could see who had come into the flat. Barty’s black hair was plastered to his forehead with the weight of the rain, and he had a frown etched into the lines of his face. Regulus sighed. Barty glared at the two of them sat on the sofa while he walked over the kettle.

“Got any spare clothes?” Barty aimed the question at Regulus, eyeing the sweatpants that James was wearing.

“Yes” Regulus gritted his teeth like he’d done something wrong.

He took off quickly to grab a new sweatshirt and shorts from his room – Barty was too tall to wear Regulus’s sweatpants and James was currently wearing the ones that Barty kept there. Regulus walked back into the kitchen half expecting to see blood being spilt but instead he was pleasantly surprised to see them discussing the nursery Barty worked at.

“…that’s exactly what my mum says!” James was grinning at Barty and Barty looked amused, "She runs a nursery back home." 

“She’s so right,” He sighed a light smile on his face, “Stickers are absolutely like gold dust. The currency of infants.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows and handed Barty the change of clothes. Barty handed Regulus his half-drunk tea and changed his clothes right there in front of the both of them. James was openly staring at Barty, not that Reg could blame him, Barty had decided to change in the kitchen like some uncivilised animal.

“He wasn’t socialised much as a child,” Regulus rolled his eyes, nodding towards Barty.

 “Oh? You want to get into childhood stories Regulus?” Barty shot back, eyes darkening with mischief.

“No,” Regulus blushed and took the tea back to the sofa, next to James.

Barty had just finished putting dry clothes on when Lily came back into the room. She grinned at Barty, as he indulged her in a conversation about her most recent assignment – something about social influence and its effects on the armed forces – she studied clinical psychology. Barty always said that if he hadn't taken political history, he would have liked to study psychology. Maybe in another life, Regulus thought grimly. 

James was assessing Regulus and Regulus met his gaze full on, “What?”

“You’re not as mean as I thought you’d be,” James whispered as if he was revealing a secret.

“Oh,” Regulus bit his tongue, “What does that mean?”

James’s eyes darted around the room like he’d said something he shouldn’t have, “No, it’s just that… Well, you look like you can be mean.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, “Trust me, I can be cruel when I need to be.”

For a split second it looked as if James’s pupils dilated but then the laughter of Marlene broke the moment and when Regulus looked back at James, he was watching the pizzas in Dorcas’s arms instead.

Marlene squeezed in-between James and Regulus on the sofa. The lack of chairs in the room suddenly becoming obvious. Lily shrugged and sat on the floor, leaning back against James’s legs. Regulus felt a trickle of annoyance down his spine; he looked away from James and made eye contact with Barty. Barty was clenching his jaw and watching Regulus. When he saw Regulus watching him back, he slid to the floor in front of him and echoed Lily’s position, leaning against Regulus’s legs. Which left Dorcas standing, a blush dancing around her face, Regulus grinned. The only seat left was on the floor in front of Marlene, Reg tilted his head towards Marlene as if to tell Dorcas to just bloody sit down.

The pizzas were opened on the table and love island had found its way back on the screen. Regulus settled back in and enjoyed listening to his friends and housemates gossip about the tv show. He knew he needed to prepare for the upcoming gala because it would shape his future in the political world but for now he would revel in the teeny bit of rest-bite that the pouring rain had brought with it.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!

I loved writing this chapter it was so sweet.
Regulus making friends... what?????? crazy behaviour.
I know Frank wasn't in this even though he's a housemate too but he was too busy using his iconic mop to tidy the rest of the house.

MARLENE... icon.
James and Barty being friendly until Regulus is in the room will never fail to make me laugh.
Sirius is once again with this chapter but in spirit only, he's iconic, and too busy making bad decisions to show up yet :0 (joking, he's not making AWFUL decisions)

I listened to the whole hamilton playlist while I wrote this lol.

Come and have a natter with me about this on tumblr @lilyflxwers
See ya on the next update (tuesday!)

Chapter 4: Pretty visitor

Notes:

and here we have the illusive Sirius Black.

The light burnt through the open window and splashed against the torn carpet in the room, shouting in Sirius's face that he was late. Shit. If only he hadn’t spent the entire night in and out of random clubs with Pete. His head was pounding with a hangover strong enough to convince even the strongest of men to step off a cliff edge, if only he could stop the thudding in his skull long enough to actually find a cliff.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out every morsal of light, and swung his arms off the bed, searching for the powder pink alarm clock that sat quietly on his bedside table. He cracked one eye open very slowly and glanced at the time. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay right. He needed to get up and leave the house within the next two minutes otherwise he may as well go jump off that cliff because he’d likely loose his job.

He grabbed the closest tshirt he could find, which happened to be a lilac one that said, ‘til the sun comes up’ and some black cargo trousers that he found on the top of the pile by the door to his room. Sirius stumbled down the first couple of stairs and then vaulted down the rest, swinging into the kitchen to grab his bag and a phone charger because there was no doubt that he’d forgotten to charge his phone last night.

Cramming his feet into mauve converse, he slid into a comfortable jog across town and into the little record store that he was the manager of. First thing first, he plugged his phone on charge, one look told him the battery was dead. Then he turned the sign in the window around so that it said, ‘Open! Come inside’, and then he leant his hip heavily against the counter and cradled his aching head in his hands.

Before long the bell run above the door to signal there was a customer. Sirius straightened himself out and took his place behind the counter. He inhaled sharply at the sight of the other man in the store. He was beautiful. Sirius was far too hungover to be talking to a pretty man like that. It’s James’s fault, if he hadn’t moved across the city to follow his dreams of becoming an art curator, then Sirius could have forced him to serve this man instead but no, James, and God, clearly hated his very guts.

Sirius took him in while he was browsing through their 90’s rock section. He was tall and very fit. His tshirt was looser than Sirius would have personally worn it, but the muscles of his arms were telling, thick cut, and laced with spiderweb like scars. The scars peeked out at the neckline of his shirt and twirled along his jawline, they stopped jagged to lay just above his cheekbones. They didn’t make him ugly; they simply added to his mysticism. He was wearing black slacks and a black tshirt with something printed across the back, Sirius thought it might be a work logo of some kind, but the man never stood with his back to Sirius for long enough.  His hair was a muddy brown and cropped close to his skull on the sides, it made him look mean. Sirius ran his tongue over his teeth and looked away as he felt a blush rising against his fair skin.

“What’s your favourite,” His voice was softer than Sirius had been expecting.

“What?” Sirius shook his head like a dog; to clear his mind so he could listen to the other man.

“Record,” He replied with a slight roll of his eyes, nodding to the record stand.

Sirius blushed more, right of course, his job, “Uh,” He made his way over to the stand, “That one.”

He picked up Oasis - (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? Showing it to the other man.

“Or” Sirius hummed to himself, this was his forte, the music spoke to him, “Queen – Innuendo, that’s good too. Depends on what listening experience you’re after.”

The man pressed his lips together hard as if he was debating something and then he nodded and turned his back on Sirius to root through the records again. Ok then, rude, Sirius thought and kicked at the carpet while he headed back to the till.

Sirius gritted his teeth as the other man walked over and placed two records on the counter, neither Sirius’s recommendation. He picked the first up and examined the burnt orange cover.

“Alice in chains (Dirt)?” Sirius rose an eyebrow and picked up the next one, “And Pearl Jam (Ten)? Didn’t like my suggestions then?”

The other man shrugged, “Guess not.”

Sirius wanted to stomp his feet, instead he closed his eyes tightly for a second and then his customer service smile broke out across his face.

“Of course, would you like a bag for them?”

“No,” The other man pulled a tote bag out of his back pocket and placed the records gently into it. Then he turned to Sirius handed him the correct change for the records and said, “Cheers mate.”

Sirius desperately wanted to sneer at the man but years and years of practicing control over his emotions allowed him to show a closed mouth smile. The man stared at Sirius long enough that Sirius wanted to ask him what his problem was and then he spun on the spot and briskly walked out of the door.

Turned out that today might just about kill Sirius off.

The next couple of hours passed smoothly without any other rude attractive customers. He moved his head to the side until his neck popped satisfyingly and then he started doing small loops around the store. He noted that it was quieter than a Saturday usually was.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out. James had messaged him, finally.

{13:07}

Prongs: I’m taking you out tonight, I miss you x

Sirius grinned, it had been only two full days since he’d seen James but up until they graduated school a couple of years ago, they had been living together. James’s family had practically raised Sirius and from the aged of fifteen, they had taken on legal guardianship of him. He shivered and chased the oncoming memory of his biological family away into the deepest and dirtiest corners of his mind.

Pads: cool, see u at mine love xx

Sirius could admit that he missed James constantly being in every second of his life. He was glad that James was following his dreams and all, but he missed him so much, that it felt like it had started to rot a hole in the centre of Sirius’s heart. The thing was, Sirius wasn’t good at being on his own. He never had been. Before James he had his brother, and he dreaded the possibility that James might realise he preferred life without Sirius, just as his biological brother had. What did he do without James? Who came after him? Sirius doubted anyone would. He reckoned that he would simply disappear into an early grave without James there.

Sirius waited the rest of the shift out by fiddling with display shelves and putting dust jackets over as many records as he could in the few hours he had left to work. When the sun dipped below the horizon and his phone alarm sounded like a foghorn in the peaceful shop, he knew it was time to close and head home.

He pushed his key into the door, his keyrings clanking against the wood. As he stepped into the small hallway, he laid eyes on red crocs and excitement burst across his chest and fell heavily into his stomach.

“James!” Sirius hollered against the soft quietness of the house, “Prongs! Prongs! James? Where are you, you git.”

He heard chuckling in the kitchen, and he flung himself through the flimsy door and straight at James. James stumbled backwards with the added weight but still threw his arms around Sirius's body tightly.

“It’s been too long,” James was smiling widely, “I shall never stay apart from you this long ever again.”

“It’s been crippling my soul,” Sirius sighed dramatically, “I’ve barely been able to get out of bed.”

James raised his eyebrows, “Oh yeah? That’s why it smells like a brewery in here then?”

“Ok. Well, maybe I went out last night but only because I had too! Wormy practically begged,” Sirius flung his arms in the air, “And he said he’d asked you too.”

“He did,” James nodded, a dramatic frown forming on his face, “Unfortunately, trying to make friends at the Uni took precedent because, you know, someone here refused to go with me.”

“We can’t all afford to go to Uni whenever we please,” Sirius winked at James.

“Liar.”

“Alright fair, I can afford it but it’s boring! Plus, I don’t need a degree in art history to run the shop.”

“Could’ve done politics,” James smirked.

“Might have been accepted back into the family then,” Sirius played along and then whacked James in the arm, “Right, C’mon, lets get ready to go before I lay on the floor and never get back up.”

Sirius shimmied into wide leg jeans and a black mesh top with thick black stars printed across it. He ruffled his hair, so the curls stood better and lined his eyes with black kohl. James had black cargo pants on and a slightly cropped cherry red t-shirt. It wasn’t obviously cropped short but when he moved his arms it slid up and showed a strip of stomach.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and pressed his fingers into James’s skin, “Looking hot Potter.”

“Hands off Black,” James blew him a kiss and Sirius pretended to catch it.

James flung an arm over Sirius’s shoulders and grinned, “Lets go, we’re meeting Wormy and Alice at the Leaky.”

The leaky was their local pub, it was an eight-minute walk, which was the perfect length for when they inevitably stumbled back home in the early hours of the morning. James dragged Sirius over to the small table in the window, by the little raised stage, where the live band would set up soon. A sandy haired man slid into the chair opposite Sirius, he had a sharp grin, but his round cheeks softened his face considerably. He was wearing a cotton blue and white button down and khaki slacks.

“James!” Peter grinned, “Nice to see you mate. And nice to see you,” He turned his smile onto Sirius, “Wasn’t sure you’d still be alive after last night.”

“Says you!” Sirius turned to James, “Wormy here, threw up before midnight.”

Peter blushed slightly and protested, “Yeah, well, that’s why I’m feeling good now. It was tactical.”

James laughed at them, “Gods I’ve missed the both of you.”

A short women took a seat next to Peter. She was in a light pink sundress, which Sirius thought was pretty but not what he’d chose to wear on a night out. Then again, it wasn’t him wearing it, so he guessed it didn’t matter. Her long brown hair was twisted up into a butterfly shaped claw-grip and she set down four pints of lager.

“James,” She nodded at him and then smirked at Sirius, “Glad you managed to make it out of last night alive.”

“Oi!” Sirius said, “Wormy was just as bad!”

She flicked her eyes over to Peter, “At least he threw it all up, your body had to spend the day processing the shear amount of alcohol you consumed.”

"Exactly!" Peter high-fived her and stuck his tongue out at Sirius. 

“Alright let’s stop talking about it,” Sirius mumbled, “It’s making me feel sick.”

They all laughed, and James slapped his back, “Drink up Pads, nothing better for a hangover than hair of the dog.”

Several hours passed in the blink of an eye. The live music from the up-and-coming band was blaring across the room and the alcohol was slurring the groups voices, so they had to half-shout at each other to be heard. No one seemed to mind though.

Sirius was laughing hard, the alcohol pulsing through his veins making Alice’s re-telling of what the kids at her school had put her through that day, much funnier that it actually was. James had gone up to the bar to retrieve more lager and, knowing James, some tequila shots. Peter was leaning back in his chair, watching the bass player of the band intently, a soft blush covering his nose. Sirius rose an eyebrow, Pete didn’t really get crushes, so this was interesting. But before he could ask, James dropped the drinks onto the table heavily and pulled someone by the arm, closer to their table.

“This,” He smiled widely, “Is Marlene.”

Sirius eyed the new person up for a second. They were wearing black jeans that had been ripped within an inch of their life and a tight black tank top that ended just below their chest. Marlene had a longer shag cut, littered with little star clips, and Sirius immediately liked them.

“Alright?” Marlene dragged a chair over to sit at the end of the table, “Nice to meet you all.”

“Sirius,” James pointed to him and then turned to the others, “Alice, and Pete.”  

James laid the shots down in front of everyone, sacrificing his own for Marlene and then counted them down. Sirius felt the harsh burn of tequila and grinned. He looked at Alice who was still squeezing her eyes shut in response to the liquor, and he laughed freely.

Forty minutes later found them all listening to Marlene complain about their relationship situation.

“…and she’s like so cool but we agreed no feelings!” Marlene slurred, throwing their hands up at the ceiling, “Now she’s started to avoid me.”

Pete was shaking his head, “Relationships are hard, that’s why I don’t bother.”

Alice leant forward, “Honestly babe, I’ve been seeing this guy right, and he’s so nice but it's like when do you even have the ‘next steps’ conversation without being too much, you know?”

Marlene was nodding and huffing in agreement. Sirius saw James bite his bottom lip and he raised an eyebrow, he knew that James was hiding something.

“What,” Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes, “What is it?”

“Well,” James blushed, “There’s this guy.”

Sirius’s mouth fell open in shock, “For how long?” He demanded.

“No, no,” James shook his head, “It’s not like that, he’s basically got a boyfriend anyways.”

“Jamie,” Sirius lent into James’s personal space, “Tell me his name.”

Sirius was a bit offended that they were apparently keeping secrets from each other nowadays.

“No,” James rushed his words out, “Seriously it’s not like that.”

Marlene was watching him with narrowed eyes as if they knew who he was on about and Sirius felt the familiar flare of jealous in his stomach. Whatever. He knew this was a possibility. He was the one that chose not to follow James to university, and this was the consequence that he had to live with.

James reached out to touch Sirius and Sirius shook him off. He stood up and pushed away from the table, forcing a smile onto his face.

“I’ll go get more drinks,” The words ground out from behind his teeth.

Sirius was still in a mood as he pushed forward to the front of the bar and ordered five double vodka lemonades. Someone pushed into his arm and he snapped his head to look at them, maybe even yell a little, get some of the jealousy out. But as he made eye contact, he realised who it was. The fit guy from earlier in the day, the one who didn’t take either music recommendations from him.

“You,” Sirius snapped his teeth, like he was going to bite the man, “How’s your shit music treating you.”

In hindsight, Sirius could admit he was perhaps behaving like a child, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

The man had a lazy smirk on his face, “Great thanks. I can give you music lessons if you want help improving your recommendations.”

Sirius bit, “Fuck off.”

“You spoke to me first.”

“Did not! You literally asked for recommendations.”

“Yeah, but I wanted good recommendations, maybe it was my fault, I should have clarified that.” The man’s smirk deepened.

“They were good! You clearly have shit taste.” Sirius huffed.

“I have shit taste?” He repeated, leaning into Sirius’s personal space and very slowly looking him up and down.

Sirius blushed and the man was gone before he could get the next words out. He grabbed the drinks and pushed back towards the table, slamming them down hard.

“You’ve been gone ages,” James whined.

“Shut up and drink your bloody drink.”

Sirius could still feel the blush in the tips of his ears. Peter leant over and mock-smacked James’s arm, like he was scolding a naughty child. They all laughed, bar Sirius, who was too busy thinking about the infuriatingly rude man as he knocked back the drink, drowning himself in more alcohol. 

Notes:

Thank you for reading :)

Sirius deserves the world istg.
Remus having an attitude is hilarious and so true.

Come and have a natter to me about this on tumblr @lilyflxwers
See ya on the next update (Saturday!)

Chapter 5: Too much to ask

Sirius pushed away from the dusty counter in annoyance. He was frustrated, his best friend and practical brother was moving on from him and he couldn’t even claim that he was surprised by it. The familiar bubble of disappointment fizzled against the inside of his skin and trickled slowly into his veins. He'd grown up a disappointment, only right that he remained one for the rest of his sorry life. 

He could never quite live up to anyone’s expectations. His body sagged in shame and right now, he wanted nothing more than to go to the Potter house, his home, but it felt weird to seek comfort about James from James’s parents. They’d spent years telling Sirius that they were his parents too and he wished it were true. He loved them like they were but when it boiled down to it, they weren’t. The blood that ran through his body was aggressive and painful, he knew where he came from.

It was times like this that he missed his biological family. It was messed up and he knew that, but he was a Black after all. For a split second every now and again, he missed the constant that came with pain. He knew he’d spend his life offering it over for his brothers, he knew that when he saw a specific crook of his mother’s finger that his evening would be filled with agony, he knew that if his father’s office door was shut then his brother was trapped inside and he needed to do anything in his power to get inside. It was horrible but at least it was consistent.

Most of all his missed his brother. He missed the bone deep tie that they had to each other. It's a bit late, though, to miss him now, Sirius thought. What happened had happened, there wasn’t a way to change the past and he needed to live with the decisions that had been made. With the grave his brother had so kindly dug him. He laid in the grave everyday, watching the sunrise above his laying body, and he relived every mistake he'd ever made, and there was a lot. Sometimes James would manage to reach in and offer him some time away from himself but James wasn't here anymore and Sirius wasn't his responsibility. 

The bell rung over the door and Sirius moved slightly so that he was stood up straighter and brushed a hand down his top to uncrinkle it. The man from yesterday walked inside and Sirius’s stomach dropped further. He really wasn’t in the mood for this today.

The man pushed his lips together in a sorry excuse for a polite smile and Sirius looked away.

He scratched at the inside skin of his wrist. Sometimes the bite of pain helped him focus, and sometimes it triggered his mind into a panic attack, he wasn’t sure what it’d bring today. He found that he didn’t really care. He wanted to go home and bury himself in his bed, away from everyone – he couldn’t hurt anyone that way. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he tried not to rot away inside the store. And he would, rot, if only it wouldn't see him lose the job that he very much needed if he wanted to continue to pay his rent.

“Which do you prefer?” The man held up two records.

Foo fighters (The colour and the shape) ’97 and Nine inch nails (The downward spiral) ’94. Sirius sighed and looked at both the records and the man in turn. He didn’t care. And he certainly didn’t care about the man stood in front of him.

“I don’t know,” Sirius shrugged.

“Cmon, it’s your job to know.”

“No actually, it isn’t. It’s my job to sell them,” Sirius snapped. The first real emotion other than depression, that he’d felt all day.

The man patiently remained in front of Sirius, holding the records out towards him. He eyed both records again.

“Well,” Sirius leant his elbows on the counter, “The Colour and the Shape is widely considered a defining album of the post grunge genre. It is more lyrically introspective and musically developed than their debut album and this album was purposefully split between uptempo tracks and ballads to reflect conflicting emotions for a kind of therapy session experience.”

He closed his eyes briefly and then nodded towards Nine inch nails, “And the downward spiral is a concept album, it deals with a protagonist slowly losing everything until he has nothing left to lose; the lyrics are open-ended, however, utilizing metaphors and double-entendres to grant the listener multiple interpretations behind the meanings of the songs and the narrative of the album.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“So,” he asked after a minute, “back to my original question. Which one do you prefer?”

Sirius threw his arms up, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to compare the two albums!”

“If you had to though.”

“I don’t have to, so I wouldn’t know.”

“If it was life or death.”

"It isn't."

"No but if it was."

“Then I’d pick death.”

“You’d pick death,” The man chuckled, “over recommending an album?”

“I’d pick death over this conversation.”

“You know you could just make it up, I wouldn’t have known whether you were lying.”

“I would have.”

“Pick one.”

“No.”

“Please.”

Sirius’s eyes shot to the other mans. He was a member of the Black family; he’d heard begging before. He could stand and watch devastating pain being inflicted and not move a muscle. But he’d never heard this. A simple please out of the prettiest mouth on earth. Sirius shivered, he wanted the man to say it again, but he knew he wouldn’t get him to ask nicely like that.

“We’ve already got to begging, have we?”

“Trust me, I can beg, and that wasn’t it.”

Sirius choked and a smirk slithered its way onto the other mans face.

Sirius slammed his hand down on Nine inch nails - The downward spiral. He held eye contact and ran his tongue over his teeth. The other man tracked the action, leaning forward. Sirius bit out a grin, he knew he was hot, he wasn’t stupid. He liked when he had people watching him like this.

Sirius stepped back.

“This one, and if you ask me to choose again, I’ll ban you from the store.”

The man smiled wickedly, “Thanks for your help but,” He held up the Foo fighters, the colour and the shape, "I think I’ll take this one".

Sirius gawped.

“Fuck off.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not selling that to you.”

“I think you have too.”

“I don’t.”

He was grinning at Sirius now; the gentle smile lit the mans scarred face up prettily. Sirius narrowed his eyes, his teeth bared.

“Go on, sell it to me.”

“I said no.”

“Go on,” The man dragged the words out, eyes sparkling.

“No.”

“I wont leave until you sell it to me.”

“Well, then you’ll be here until you die.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Fine. Die in quiet then, I don’t want to hear you so much as breathe.”

“You know, your customer service is shit.”

Sirius threw two figures up at the man in a crude gesture and then pushed away from the till. He did his rounds of the store, helped a teenager find the new Taylor swift vinyl, and chatted to an old woman that had come in to buy something for her sister’s birthday – she settled on Snow Patrol (Eyes open, 2006).

The light from outside had begun to dim signalling the inevitable ending of the day. Sirius stretched his arms backwards and put some rogue CD’s away in their designated space and then clicked the lock shut in the door. He grabbed his bag and his phone charger and turned the lights off, humming to himself the whole time.

He stepped onto the pavement and someone shadowed the movement.

“Look at that,” Sirius clicked his tongue, “You didn’t die, what a shame.”

The man laughed loudly into the empty street, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh, lucky me,” Sirius rolled his eyes sarcastically, “How will I contain my excitement?”

“You’re mean,” The man breathed out as if he’d admitted a secret.

“I know.”

“I like it.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“I hope you’ve not been getting off on this.”

The man blushed and then stumbled over his words, “Oh fuck off, not like that.”

“Yeah sure,” Sirius looked the man up and down slowly, “Though I don’t think I’d mind if it was like that.”

The man’s mouth hung open and Sirius snapped his teeth together. Then he turned around to leave the man standing in the street watching his retreating form.

Sirius’s front door creaked awkwardly as he pushed inside. The silence greeted him harshly and he curled in on himself. He missed when he’d open the door and James’s bright laughter would ring out across the hallway from the lounge. He missed when Effie, James’s mother, would be baking his favourite cinnamon cookies. He missed when Fleamont, James’s father, would sit quietly and passively waiting for Sirius to come and start conversation because he knew that Sirius was terrified of Father figures but loved him all the same.

All he seemed to do these days was miss things. Really when he thought about it, that’s all he’d done his whole life. He missed who he could have been, who he should have been. He missed his brother, his friends, the people his parents should have been.

He warmed a mug of tomato soup up and tore a section of farmhouse bread that James had dropped off from Effie when he’d last came to visit. Sirius slumped over on the little kitchen table and ran his fingernail down the peeling white paint. He felt a little bit satisfied at being lonely, like he did as a child when his punishment had been dished out. He hated waiting for the pain. The relief afterwards was comforting. The loneliness of this god-forsaken flat felt like the strange comfort of an active punishment.

Someone knocked loudly, Sirius shot up, flinging all his dishes in the sink and sweeping breadcrumbs off the table and into his hands. He opened the front door with a smile plastered on his face.

“Hi darling,” Effie smiled gently, pushing into the kitchen with an arm full of tins, “How are you doing?”

Effie popped the kettle on and took two small plates out to put freshly baked blueberry scones, one of Sirius's favourite treats, onto and then she carefully sat on the chair furthest from Sirius and nodded at the one nearest him, telling him to sit down.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” He blurted out, “I’m sorry, I don’t have any milk.”

Sirius found himself cowering in the corner of the room, he should always have milk. Why didn’t he have any milk? Effie stood up slowly, concern sprinkled across her expression.

“Sirius, love, I’m going to come near you, is that okay?”

All of the Potters had quickly learnt to warn Sirius when they were going to approach or touch him. Especially if he was anxious or stressed out because unwanted touch would vault him back into a hurricane of violent, terrified, memories that Sirius would struggle to find his way back out of. 

Sirius backed up as far as he could go. Panic had him gripped tightly by the throat, he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t escape because what if his mother went after Regulus? And she would, if she couldn’t get her talon like grip onto Sirius.

“Okay,” His mother, no, Effie? He couldn’t be sure, exhaled softly to herself and added, “Sirius I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

Sirius almost laughed. He’d heard that before. The whole ‘I won’t hurt you; I’ll hurt your brother.’

“Hurt me, I messed up not him. Please mother, he told me not to do anything, and I purposefully didn’t listen.”

Sirius couldn’t be sure whether this was actually happening or whether he was acting out a memory. He hoped it was a memory, but he couldn’t get a grip on reality for long enough and he wasn’t certain whether he had made it out of the Black house like he’d been planning or whether he was still there.

His father, or - wait maybe it was Fleamont, stepped carefully into the kitchen looking around at the noise.

"No, get out," His maybe-mother hissed, stepping closer to Sirius like she was going to push his Father away or possibly she was going to grip hold of Sirius tightly and agonizingly.

And then the screaming started.

“Flea,” Sirius could hear a shaky voice from somewhere near him, he was curled up on the floor in a way that protected his most important organs and his head, “Go and get Jamie, he can’t tell us apart from the memories, but he’ll be able to tell Jamie apart from his brother, they’re different ages.”

Sirius’s body had started to cramp from the position he was holding himself into by the time the door opened again. He braced himself, waiting for the real pain to begin. Instead, someone crouched by his head and gently touched his wrist. Sirius began to shake.

“Pads,” A soft voice whispered the memories away, back into their box, “It’s me, James, you’re safe now.”

Sirius cracked his eye open and looked around. He saw James’s face, a carefully constructed gentle smile was there, his eyes running the length of Sirius’s body for wounds. When Sirius first left, the memories would be so vivid that Sirius would end up with bruises and cuts from where he had flung himself away from his supposed mother. Sirius wasn't sure if it was lucky or not but the injuries tended to remain mental these days.

James carefully pulled Sirius into his arms and rocked them slowly back and forth and Sirius felt himself come back into the present. He looked around and saw Effie leaning against the furthest counter with tears streaming down her face, she smiled softly at Sirius, and he looked away. He didn’t deserve that – the Potter kindness.

“Sorry,” Sirius croaked out, his voice sore from screaming.

“It’s okay Pads,” James squeezed him tighter, “You should have told me it was getting bad again.”

Sirius shrugged, “I was coping.”

James shot him a look to say, evidently not, and Sirius felt shame pierce through his heart and sink into his veins.

"Sorry Effie," Sirius whispered against the shocked quiet of the room.

"Don't be silly darling, there's nothing to apologise for." 

"Was I screaming for long this time?" 

Effie and James shared a look. She shook her head and smiled softly, "No sweetheart, don't worry about that now. You're safe and that's all that matters now."

"Is Fleamont here?"

"Yeah, Dad's in the lounge."

"Okay," Sirius closed his eyes. He let the shame consume him whole. 

Effie knocked James aside carefully after five minutes and swept them both up into her motherly grip. Smothering Sirius in a love that he didn’t deserve. He accepted it anyways because Sirius was nothing if not selfish. He looked sideways when the kitchen door once again opened, Fleamont slowly peaked his head in, giving Sirius time to adjust to his presence. He nodded reassuringly at Sirius which Sirius was glad of because if he came inside the kitchen or touched him, there was a strong possibility that he would have another breakdown.

“Well,” Sirius exhaled when he felt like enough time had passed. Embarrassment flooded his entire being, “Sorry about that. Let me just nip to the shops and I’ll get some milk for everyone’s tea.”

“No,” James shook his head, “I’ll do it, you stay here.”

Sirius flinched at the concept of James leaving.

“No one’s leaving,” Effie soothed, “We can drink tea without milk. Go and sit in the lounge boys and Flea and I will make some tea. Okay?”

“Yes mum,” James and Sirius echoed.

Sirius sat on the edge of the sofa and James curled his body around him protectively. The aftermath was usually like this, James wouldn’t leave Sirius's side for hours now, if not days. Not that he minded. Sirius didn't like having flashbacks but if there was one positive to come out of it all, it was selfishly James's undivided attention for the following hours. 

"How was work?" James offered a hail mary to get Sirius out of his head. 

Sirius sighed tiredly, "It was alright."

"Just alright?" James raised an eyebrow, "What happened?"

"There's a customer that's been coming in and asking for my recommendations and then purposefully avoiding what I've recommended," Sirius said.

James frowned, "That's not nice. Do you want me to come into work tomorrow with you?" 

Sirius would usually jump at the offer but he felt weird about this specific offer. Did he want James and the pretty man to meet? He didn't think so. As annoying as the man was to Sirius, he didn't fancy James trying to intimated the man because if it worked then it meant Sirius wouldn't see his gorgeous face ever again and more than likely, it wouldn't work and then it would give the man more ammunition to annoy Sirius with. 

He shook his head, "S'alright, I can deal with it and plus it adds a bit of excitement to my day."

James's eyes narrowed at something on Sirius's face and then he laughed, "You think he's hot."

"What?" 

"The guy, the one that pisses you off at work. You think he's hot." 

"I do not!"

"You do," James was grinning, "You just blushed while you were talking about him. I know your facial expressions off by heart, Pads, you can't hide from me."

Sirius felt himself blush harder, "No. I don't think he's hot. He's annoying and I like to argue, that's all." 

"Go on," James nodded towards him, "Tell me what he looks like, feed my need for hot men." 

"Shut up," Sirius bit his bottom lip and sighed, "Okay fine but you're sworn to secrecy about it."

James saluted. 

"He's tall," Sirius started and James snorted, "Taller than us," Sirius clarified, "His skin is bronzed like he's been created in the face of the sun. He has a spiderweb trail of scars all over his body and it makes him look mean." 

Sirius covered his ever-blushing face and James chuckled, "And he is, he's so mean, James. It's so bloody hot." 

"Oof, I know all about that," James said, his eyes glazed over as if he was searching for something in recent memory. 

"Yeah?" Sirius asked curiously. 

"Yeah, there's this guy that before you start Pads, practically has a boyfriend."

Sirius interrupted, "How can he practically have a boyfriend? He either does or doesn't."

"He claims they aren't together but he stays over almost every night, or at least every time I see them, and they're literally always together," James is on a roll now, "And get this Pads, he even picks him up from work."

"Right," Sirius frowned, "And you're sure they're not dating?"

"Certain," James replied, "I asked." 

Sirius laughed, "Of course you did. What's he like then?"

"Mean," James's face flushed a soft pink, "He's quick with it too, the comebacks and the sarcasm, gods he's so fucking mean to me." 

James's pupils were widening to fill the colour of his iris's, Sirius prompted, "Okay and..." 

"And he's so beautiful. He's not quite as tall as us but he walks around like everyone should kneel before him. He's all quick wit and sharp mind. Look, I'll put it like this. If he asked me to kneel, I would." 

Sirius barked a laugh and swatted James over the head, "What if I asked you to kneel," He winked at James. 

"Of course darling," James drawled, "Anything for you." 

Sirius pointed his head in the direction of the carpet, daring James to follow through and James mock saluted, jumping up. Sirius pulled him back on the sofa and they dissolved into laughter. Reaching over each other to take the piss out of one another about their developing crushes. 

"We have issues," Sirius said laughing with James, "Why are we like this?"

"Mean is familiar to you," James said matter of factly, still breathless from laughing so hard, "And barely anyone dares to be mean to me, it's refreshing, and evidently bloody hot." 

Sirius rolled his eyes, laughing again as Effie pushed the door open. Fleamont came inside the room carrying a tray of black teas and blueberry scones, a smile breaking on his face at the sound of the two boys laughing with each other. 

"What're we laughing at?" Effie grinned. 

"Sirius has issues," James replied and Effie frowned a little. 

"James has bigger ones!" Sirius cackled putting Effie's smile back on her face, "He thinks bullying is hot."

"He is not bullying me!" James shot back, "And anyways says you, I'd say yours is more mean than mine." 

"He's not," Sirius stuck his tongue out at James. 

"Is too." 

"Nope." 

"Yep."

"Okay boys, shut it and eat your scones," Fleamont chuckled. 

Sirius found that there was very little that couldn't be fixed with a blueberry scone. He loved this. His little found family. He had both been the unluckiest, to be born into the family that he had been, and the luckiest, to be adopted into the family that he had been. 

Effie pottered around tidying up the drinks after a while had passed and swept the food crumbs, that laid on the little coffee table, up into her hand. While Fleamont gently pulled Sirius aside, "How would you feel about starting therapy again? I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do but I think it's definitely worth considering."

Sirius nodded, "I'll think about."

"Great, thanks son, that's all I ask."

Sirius wistfully watched Fleamont return to his wife and help her dry the cups. He wished he could bond with Fleamont like he'd done with Effie and James. He loved Fleamont as a person, he was gentle and kind, and everything that Orion Black, his father, wasn't. It was just the role he played in the family, the father, Sirius couldn't move past it. Which he thought was ironic because his mother had dulled out worse abuse than his father ever did but he still loved Effie. He thought maybe it was because he was scared of his mothers actions more than the actual person she was and Effie consciously chose peace and gentleness everyday to demonstrate to Sirius that people were different. Whereas, there's no denying it, he was petrified of his father, there weren't any rules with him. There was no obvious 'you do that and I'll hurt you' unlike his mother, his father handed out punishments whenever he pleased, which wasn't often but when it happened, it did so without rhyme or reason. Predictability could be shown to change, the violence swapping to softness. Unpredictability couldn't be shown to change nearly as easily because that was the point of it, Sirius never knew when Orion would turn on him, and so he could never be sure that Fleamont wouldn't. 

Effie and Fleamont bid their goodbyes, with long hugs and gentle reminders that Sirius was their son too and if he needed them, he was to call anytime. James waved them off from the lounge window and Sirius stood slightly behind James to watch the three of them, like he was getting a snapshot into someone else's life. 

"Cmon Pads," James yawned, "Lets go to bed. Also, after work tomorrow you're coming to my lecture with me okay?" 

Sirius cracked the bones in his neck, "Sure, yeah."

"And then you can come meet my flatmates, have dinner, and stay over with me. Ok?"

Sirius grimaced, he'd been avoiding going to James's flat so that he didn't have to see his new friends. James likely knew this and had been giving him time to come to terms with the change in his own way but evidently the little display Sirius had given in the kitchen earlier had put a stop to James giving Sirius time. 

"If you don't come and find me after work," James leant into Sirius's personal space, "Then I will walk over here and drag you by your hair over to mine, clear?"

Sirius touched his hair and gasped, "You wouldn't."

"I would." 

Sirius mock-frowned, "You're just as mean as them." 

James laughed, "No I'm not." 

"No," Sirius grinned, "You're not." 

James climbed into bed next to Sirius and wrapped his arms around Sirius's body like an octopus. Kissing the side of his face with brief constant kisses he whispered, "Night Pads, don't forget that really, you're the love of my life." 

"And you're mine," Sirius licked James face, "Night Prongs." 

Notes:

Thank you for reading :)

Sirius and Remus bring me so much joy lmao. I love them.
We'll be back to Reg and his little barty/james situation next update hehe.

Come talk to me about this on tumblr @lilyflxwers
See ya on the next update (Monday!)

Edit: There’s going to be a little delay on updates because I’m on holiday and the internet connection is rubbish. Please bear with me!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Jegulus & Rosekiller (What A Chaotic Mess)