#alright might be pushing the limits of what ‘microfic’ is here

[delirium1217]

crystal clear

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“It’s just… not my type of scene, that’s all,”

“Your brother’s engagement party is not your type of scene?”

“Is that really surprising?”

“I guess not,”

The conversation fizzled out, as if it had any fighting chance anyway. Regulus kept staring at tiny details to keep himself steady. The lines in the brick wall in front of him. The way the wind blew away his cigarette smoke.

It’d been too overwhelming inside, filled to the brim with people he hadn’t seen in years. Hungry eyes filled with questions and inquisitions. The shimmering hue that came over everything. Like he’d wound up in an overexposed photo, flaring white and red and orange all over the dance floor.

“Look,” James started back up again. He didn’t even have the excuse of smoking to keep talking to him, “I know things have been - awkward between you and well, everyone, since uhm, uh, it all. And I don’t know if you’re here to reconnec-”

“I’m not here to make amends, James,”

That seemed to catch him off guard. Regulus wondered if James wasn’t used to him being this blunt. Ah, well. Too many things have changed for this not to change too.

He took a deep breath, “That’s fine. I just wanted to say, we all appreciate you being here,” he paused for a second. “Sirius. Even though he has odd ways of showing it, he’s glad you’re here. Remus, too, his whole ‘don’t ruin his day’ speech is just nervous jitters,” his hands were flailing along his words, like he was trying to mime them out.

Regulus looked down at the floor, fragments of silver confetti were taking the shape of real constellations over his shoes. Clever little bit of magic.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t blame them for how they acted. Sirius - initial anger followed by weird sentimentality. Remus, all confrontation and ragged edges. He knew what they all went through. He knew all the betrayal that had left them this fragile.

He wasn’t here to ‘reconnect’. If he was, he’d be doing a piss-poor job at it. Was that something he wanted? He didn’t even consider it. Reconnect, and what then?

“It’s just – did you really have to crash in at 10 am after three years of refusing contact?”

It wasn’t an unfair question. Still, it prodded at something in his chest. Something that pulsated and smouldered. He instantly felt the urge to seize up, and push away. It disturbed him how easy it was crawling back into his old skin. The viscera automatically reworking itself into the shape it had once been.

This, he told himself, this is why he left. This place dragged the worst out of him.

If James was expecting an answer, he didn’t show it, leaning back on the brick wall beside him. As if the question was a mere suggestion, something to consider. He’d think it patronizing if it were anyone else.

He looked over at him. White shirt crumpled, sleeves pushed up, tie dishevelled and wonky. The hazy sheen the evening held seemed to swell as he looked at James. As if the stars had fallen and framed his face in their wake.

It was still there, he slowly realized. The tug of want. He felt his hands ache. The incessant urge to touch and feel. He’d tried so badly to bury it. It was still there, sticking its ugly head out of the sand.

Stilltherestilltherestillthere.

An awkward blob of emotion and pheromones and terrible circumstances. He couldn’t look anymore.

“I-” he heard himself start, as if he had no control over his own tongue.

“I’m not supposed to be here. The letter with the portkey was on my dresser. And I couldn’t-“He took a deep sigh, eyes flickering across the floor, “I couldn’t bear to fail him today too,”

The words hung between them. James didn’t react, only nodding slightly. He got the impression he was being treated like a skittish animal. Maybe he was.

“I get that,”

He turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised. “No you don’t,”

“Okay, maybe I don’t,”

A smile tugged on Regulus’ lips. James hadn’t changed a bit. Ever the empathetic, even when it made zero sense.

“Hey, I got you to drop the frown!”

He instantly went back to frowning again. This promptly led to James laughing, in a way that sent Regulus careening years back.

“Thank Merlin I haven’t lost the ability to do that,” James went on.

Snapshots flickered through his head. Himself, a miserable little thing, observing from across hallways and classrooms and Quidditch fields. He wanted to hate him so badly, the boy who’d stolen his brother. He never stood a chance.

The end was there as well. That year was nothing but an open wound in his mind, a festering, rotting tunnel of memories he tip-toed around. But James was there. The only person who could get anything resembling a smile out of him. The stars above the astronomy tower, brighter and brighter as winter turned into summer. Prefect rounds and silly little bickering. They were the only things he’d allowed himself to revisit.

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things Regulus abandoned when he took the Mark. That last night – the one where he pushed James away flashed across his mind. He’d taken whatever fragile relationship they’d had, and he smashed it to the ground.

They hung between them, too.

“I, uhm. I think I owe you an apology,”

James looked at him. Wide dark eyes that he knew shone startling hazel under the sunlight. It was unfair, this effect he still had on him. Turning Regulus into something soft and fragile and vulnerable, even after all this time. He thought he’d left it all behind.

“Yeah?”

“The way I left things, it wasn’t right. I don’t want it stand between us,”

“I thought you weren’t here to make amends?” The wink that followed made Regulus’ heart perform a disgustingly loud percussion routine.

“Yeah well. Some things you just can’t avoid,”

“Ah. And I’m one of those things?”

Yes. All the miles I put between us were useless. Yes. I can’t help but want to crash into you.

“No. I just can’t go back and have another thing I fucked up haunting me,”

James was suddenly somber again, as if he just remembered the grim details of everything that went down.

“Alright, that’s fair. Well, no need to apologize, after all that you did,”

This was wrong. Something was off. He was lying, all this faux tranquility was for show.

He didn’t care how long it’d been since he last saw him, James had never not demanded more. More explanation. More words and whys and hows. It was one of the reasons he’d left things so untouched in his sixth year. James Potter would’ve tore down his defenses one by one, till he had none left.

He narrowed his eyes at him. It'd gotten cold outside, or maybe the alcohol warming him had dissipated. The noise from the party inside winding down. The cigarette butts littering the coarse ground.

It was tremendously uncomfortable, yet James had stayed for about twenty minutes, while Regulus smoked, talked and…for what?

“What is this really about, James? Why are you out here?”

“I- you just looked so upset and-“

“Plenty of depressed people at a wedding,”

“Engagement,” James corrected

“Whatever, same difference,”

“It very much is not when I’m the one who planned it all,”

“You planned all of this?”

“Uh, yeah. Why did you think I froze when you showed up? Estranged younger siblings really do throw a wrench into whatever party you have planned, y’know,”

He did not think about why James froze up, because he was too busy staring at Sirius, who looked like he could kill him, “I could imagine,”

The thought of James frantically planning an engagement party was a bit absurd, like something from those muggle comedies his roommates liked to watch. Despite the mood he’d developed, the urge to laugh filled his chest. The mental image of James, his hair more of a bird’s nest than usual, turning red over the wrong type of flowers or cake was incredible.

He supposed it did make sense, James was so close to both Sirius and Remus. Of course, he’d know exactly what they’d want.

That explained all the off-beat magic and tidbits of mischief he’d seen today. Those confetti constellation charms. Whatever the dance floor had that pushed people together. The ribbon streamers flying in between dull conversations, asking people questions. The empty glasses you could mutter whatever you wanted into. It was all so well-crafted. It made him ache.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was a ghost floating through.

“Uh, speaking of the wedding. I’m planning that, too. Obviously. As if they could hire someone better than me. But, uh, uhm.” He took a deep breath, like he was readying himself to jump off a cliff, “I kind of told them you’d stay till the wedding,”

At first, he thought he’d misheard. “You-what?”

“Told them you’d stay till the wedding?” He hesitantly said, “Sirius was such a mess, he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were leaving afterwards and I just- I panicked,”

He stayed quiet for a second, his mind slowly processing what he’d heard. When he did, he got the sudden urge to cry.

“I just- no. That’s-“Regulus found himself fumbling. He’d left this. He’d left this all behind, he couldn’t do this again. “No. No, I’m not coming back,”

“But-“

Sadness burned into anger, a whiplash of emotions that suddenly grounded him, he moved forward off the wall and fully faced James.

“You want to know why I left, James? This is why I left!” Regulus spat out, the harsh words contrasting with all the goddamned harmony everyone was in. All the joy and exuberant youth they were bathed in. He could choke on it. “You don’t get to decide what I do, not you, not the Order, not my family, not any megalomaniac with a death-wish, okay? No one, no one but me!” The rasp in his throat caught him off guard. This – he couldn’t not have control, not after all he’d been through.

“What about the people you left behind?”

He found himself inching closer, staring into James’ eyes. “I do not owe anyone a fucking thing, Potter.”

“No.” James’ voice hardened. There. Regulus thought with sick satisfaction, there was the anger he’d so badly craved. James looked beautiful, face twisted with contempt. The anger Regulus deserved. “No. You don’t get to say that. Not after, not after what you did. Everyone was - I was fucked up for months after you left!” He paused.

“No idea of where you were or what you were doing. And then months go by - and you’ve turned sides but still refused to talk to any of us. How dare you?” 

They both stopped after that, chests rising and falling with labored breath. Grey met brown. James swallowed, Regulus’ eyes flickered down to the movement.

And that’s all it took.

It wasn’t gentle, the way the crashed into each other – how could it be? All sharp angles, teeth, and digging nails. Things said and unsaid fell to the wayside. James’ hands grabbed his temples and dragged him inward. His own hand pushed at James’ tie, twisting it around his wrist and pulling in.

It was the farthest thing away from the chaste little touches they’d shared, a lifetime ago, fumbling through newfound confusion and attraction.

This was frustration and despair and regret poured into one. James tilted his head, beckoning Regulus closer. His hands let go of the tie, slamming him into the wall. The groan the came from James’ mouth lit something inside himself aflame. All he could do was push himself further. Closer, closer, closer.

James pushed himself off. Gasping for air. Regulus’ skin burned with all the lost warmth.

His face was vehement in the dull yellow light. Glasses pushed off, lost somewhere in their collision. His lips a violent red – slightly parted. Hair pulled into tufts, sticking out. All the anger that reverberated between them had cooled down into something feverish and restrained.

None of it mattered – the regrets and who’d left and who’d stayed. Not during a war. They were both wrong for bringing this up.  

They fell into silence, shaky breaths, and piercing stares. Regulus felt his skin prickle with anxiety. His mind out of sync with his heart, he didn’t know what to think.

“I just needed to do that – at least once, if you meant it – leaving,” James muttered, words coming out in desperate breaths, eyes tracing his face.

“James, I can’t be here. Not like how you want. It hurts too much,” his voice came out pleading, a hoarse little thing.

James’ hand reached out, tucking Regulus’ hair behind his ear, the gentle touch a vivid contrast to all the desperate touches that preceded it. The urge to cry came back up again.

“That’s- it’s fine. I’m – I’m sorry I said what I did. I think I said it for my sake as much as it was for Sirius’, I thought about you – this, so many times. Even before you left, I didn’t care, I would’ve still been there,” his voice twisted with guilt at that last part, like he was confessing to a heinous crime. In Regulus’ eyes, he might as well have. He wasn’t proud of what he did – those last few months of war, hearing James say this sent a thrill of fear through his heart.

He would’ve destroyed him. He would’ve wrecked him to pieces.

He didn’t want to think about that anymore. It threatened to throw him off-balance. He looked over at James.

“I – I still want,” Regulus swallowed the rising sense of panic in his chest, he cleared his throat “I still want to be here. I just, I can’t be thrown in full throttle like today. You can’t expect me to just fold to whatever you want. But I still want to be here – when these things happen,” it was true, but he only realized it as he said it.

He still wanted the contact. The string to his past. He just couldn’t handle too much of it.

James laughed, a bright little noise that caught him off guard, “So like. Holidays and weddings? God, Regulus you are so – is that what we just had a full on screaming match about? You want to be a normal person living abroad and visit family on special occasions? I thought you wanted to disappear off the face of the earth and never be seen again,”

Regulus’ face burned with embarrassment – James was right, Regulus had blown up over the mere suggestion that someone would be in control of his life again. His therapist was going to have a field day with that one.

“You were the one that said I’d stay till the wedding,”

“Yeah, which is in twenty days?”

“Oh,” Regulus hadn’t thought about that. He should’ve realized – even after the war ended, people weren’t really keen on delaying weddings.

“Yeah, oh. What – you thought I’d keep you here for a year or something?”

Yes, that’s exactly what he thought. “No.”

James laughed again. Regulus wanted to memorize every second of it.

“Y’know it wasn’t really just a screaming match,” Regulus found himself muttering. They were still both so close. Face to face. The air had stilled around them.

“No it wasn’t,” James’ voice dropped low, his eyes finding Regulus’.

When they leaned in again, it felt inevitable.

Warmth filtered across his skin. James’ fingers gripped onto his hair, strong and unrelenting. His weight against Regulus’ own a welcome comfort. He could get lost in this. He could spend all his days here.

James broke away, yet again. Regulus felt like the rug was pulled out from under him.  

“Listen, could we… talk about what we’re doing here?”

“I – what do you mean?” he felt dazed from the lost contact.

“This,” James gestured to the space between them.

“Um, I mean,” Regulus cleared his throat. “We can figure out a portkey system? I can’t give you any promises, I just. I’m barely holding on most days, but I can – for this, I mean, unless you just want something casual, which is fine. I guess. I shouldn’t have assumed. Yeah, that’d be-”

“Reg, you idiot,”

Oh. He should’ve realized, was this just a one off thing? Had he completely misread the situation?

“Has anything about us ever been casual?”

“No. I guess not.” He found himself laughing, none of it was particularly funny, it was just – relief. Weird, the difference a few hours could make in someone’s life.

James started laughing too. Seemingly, only because Regulus was. He linked their hands together.

“And Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time we have an argument, we really should do more than angrily make out about it,”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, maybe once in a while,”

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