Chapter Text
Sirius Orion Black has always considered himself to be relatively unshakeable. He's survived abuse, disownment, his brother hating him, the fucked up trauma that comes with all of that, and once accidentally set Lily's kitchen on fire trying to flambé bananas. That's all to say, he can handle crisis.
This, however, is not a crisis he's prepared for.
Because standing in his doorway, looking like he's two seconds from bolting, is Moony. His Moony. The one who disappeared without a word four months ago, leaving Sirius to wake up to cold sheets and an unmatched profile on Feeld.
"Welcome!" Sirius hears himself say, his voice pitched too high. He forces his mouth into something resembling a smile. "So you're James's friend from King's. Remus, was it?"
He watches Moony Remus flinch at the careful way Sirius pronounces his name.
Good.
Let him squirm.
"Yeah," Remus nods, and Christ, even just his voice makes Sirius's stomach twist into knots. "Thanks for having me."
"Of course! Any friend of James and all that." Sirius should honestly win a BAFTA for the performance he's putting on right now. He can feel everyone watching them though, can sense Regulus's confusion from the couch. He needs to get Remus alone before he does something stupid like grab him by the collar and demand to know why he disappeared after whispering promises into Sirius's skin. "Actually, you look like you could use a drink. Kitchen's this way, I'll show you where everything is."
He doesn't wait for a response, just turns and walks toward the kitchen. He hears Remus follow. At least the man has some sense of self-preservation.
Sirius drops the act the moment they're alone.
"So." He reaches for the bottle of wine on the counter, needing something to do with his hands to stop them from shaking. "Moony."
"Don't—"
"What? Call you that?" Sirius barks out a laugh that sounds wrong even to his own ears. "What should I call you then? The man who fucked me senseless for three weeks then vanished without a fucking trace?"
Remus flinches again. "Sirius—"
"Tell me, Remus." His voice particularly venomous at the name. "Was ghosting me always the plan? Or did you decide that somewhere between fucking me into the mattress and whispering all that bullshit in my ear?"
He pours the wine, glaring at the glass because he sure as hell can't get himself to look at Remus.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like that." Remus almost sounds pained.
Sirius scoffs anyway. "What part? The three weeks or the Houdini after?"
"Any of it."
Sirius faces him now, intending to retort with some scathing remark, but whatever it was dies in his throat at the way Remus is looking at him. Instead, a terrible silence fills the space.
Remus swallows before shifting toward the door. "I should go. This was a mistake."
"No." The word comes out too fast, too desperate. Sirius hates himself for it.
"James invited you. There's people out there expecting to meet his friend from King's." His voice hardens. "So here's what's going to happen." Sirius pours a second glass of wine for himself. "You're going to drink your wine. We're going to go back out there and pretend we've never met. And you're going to stay for at least one game because if you run now, everyone will ask questions I'd rather not answer."
"And then?"
"Then you can disappear again. You're good at that."
***
Regulus knows his brother.
More specifically, he knows this version of his brother. The one who goes blank behind the eyes while his mouth keeps moving. Who can make all the right sounds while the rest of him retreats somewhere unreachable. They'd both learnt it young—how to hollow yourself and let the shell perform.
Regulus had always been better at it between the two of them. Sirius's smile gets too wide, laugh too bright, and his hands tend to gesture more wildly. So when Sirius emerges from the kitchen a hand flying in the air and scolding the room with "Turns out you greedy bastards drank all the good wine, so we're down to the Blossom Hill that's been haunting our kitchen since New Year's." Regulus is immediately suspicious.
Sirius drops onto the couch and throws an arm around Regulus's shoulder with too much force. "Anyway, where were we? Still celebrating Reggie's triumph?"
It's smooth enough, but Regulus knows his brother. And right now, Sirius is drowning.
"New game," Marlene declares. "We've got fresh blood." She gestures to Remus. "Perfect time for Werewolf."
"Yes!" Peter bounces. "I've been wanting to play that for ages."
"Werewolf?" Dorcas asks.
"Think Mafia but with werewolves," Lily explains, already pulling out the cards. "Secret roles, accusations, betrayal. The good stuff."
"Perfect," Barty grins. "I love lying to people."
Lily turns to Barty. "I am so fascinated by whatever's wrong with you."
To which, Barty winks in response.
"Wait," Dorcas glances at Remus, then at Regulus. "is this allowed? You know, fraternizing with students outside of office hours?"
"Students?" Sirius's voice sharpens just a fraction.
"Remus is our GTA for Victorian Lit," Regulus explains, watching his brother carefully.
Something flickers across Sirius's face—surprise mixed with something else—before it's quickly replaced with that awful smile again. "Small world. Microscopic, really. What are the odds?"
Remus stands. "Actually, you're right. This is inappropriate. I should go."
"Oh," James looks genuinely torn. "I mean, if you're uncomfortable—"
"Oh come off it." Marlene interrupts. "We're all adults, it's fine. It's not like anyone's going to snitch, right?"
Everyone—except for Sirius—murmurs some form of agreement.
"What happens at Miffytebs stays at Miffytebs." Peter nods.
"That's not really how professional boundaries—"
"Remus," Lily interrupts. "Respectfully, we don't care. Sit your ass down and play Werewolf."
Remus looks around the room—pausing at Sirius for half a beat—before sighing and sitting back down.
"Right," Lily says, shuffling cards. "Everyone know the rules?"
James quickly explains for those who don't as Lily deals out the cards face-down.
"Don't show anyone your card. That's your secret role." James says.
Regulus glances at his card that reads Villager.
"Everyone close your eyes," Lily intones dramatically.
Regulus feels Sirius shift beside him, finally releasing his shoulder to lean forward.
"Werewolves," Lily speaks again. "Open your eyes."
Despite his urge to peek, Regulus keeps his eyes shut as he listens to the soft rustling of movement around him. Barty definitely snickers.
"Werewolves, choose your victim."
More shuffling. The clink of someone setting down a glass.
"Werewolves, close your eyes. Seer, open your eyes."
Lily continues guiding them. Regulus scans the circle when they all finally opens their eyes. Everyone's trying to look innocent, which naturally makes them all look guilty.
"Right," Lily starts. "When you woke this morning, you discovered that Peter...is dead."
"What!" Peter clutches his chest dramatically. "Betrayed! Murdered! In my own home!"
"Our home," Sirius corrects, pointing between him, James, and Regulus.
Oh.
He guesses this is his home now. The thought lodges weirdly in his lungs. Thankfully, he doesn't have much time to examine that right now as his thoughts are interrupted by Peter wailing.
"I demand justice! Find my killer!"
"Alright, alright," Lily gestures for Peter to settle. "Time for accusations."
"James," Marlene accuses immediately. "Look at that guilty face."
"What guilty face?" James sputters. "This is just my face!"
"Exactly," She nods sagely.
"That makes no sense!"
"I think it's Dorcas," Barty interjects. "She's been too quiet."
"We literally just started you dick," Dorcas shoots back. "Plus, I'm observing. It's called strategy."
"Or it's called being a werewolf," Peter adds from his spot as a "corpse".
"You're dead!" Lily scolds. "No talking!"
Peter mimes zipping his lips shut.
"It's Barty," Regulus says with certainty. "I heard him laugh when the werewolves were choosing."
"What?" Barty's eyes widen. "I didn't laugh!"
"You literally snickered." Regulus's eyes narrow.
"That's..." Barty pauses. "Okay, maybe I did, but—"
"See!" Dorcas points at him. "Guilty!"
"This is a setup!" Barty cries.
"Vote?" Lily asks. "All in favour?"
Most hands go up, including Evan's.
"Traitor," Barty hisses at him.
Evan blows a kiss. "You were being suspicious, baby."
Regulus recognizes that tone. Sure enough, Barty's mouth snaps shut, but there's something wild and challenging in his eyes now that only Regulus and Evan seem to notice.
Evan raises an eyebrow. "Let's see it then."
Barty flips his card around.
Villager.
"Told you," he glares pointedly, then places the back of his hand to his forehead theatrically. "But alas, I'm dead now. Murdered by mob mentality."
"Anyway," Lily continues as Barty slumps in his seat dramatically. "Night falls. Everyone close your eyes."
The second round begins. This time when they open their eyes, it's Marlene who's "dead".
"No!" She gasps. "I was so young! So beautiful!" She throws herself back, leaning against Dorcas's legs.
"Another tragedy," Lily crosses herself solemnly. "Village, discuss who the werewolves are."
"Werewolves plural," James emphasizes. "There's still two of them."
"Out of five of us," Remus adds quietly.
"Okay..." Dorcas looks around. "Well, Regulus was pretty adamant about Barty."
"Because I heard him laugh!" Regulus huffs
"Or because you're a werewolf who wanted to throw us off your track," Dorcas counters.
"That's—" Regulus starts
"It makes sense," Evan cuts him off. "Classic misdirection."
"Are you serious right now?" Regulus glares at Evan.
"Just playing the game, sweetheart," Evan teases.
"What about James?" Regulus points to James. "Marlene accused him and then she died!"
"That's actually a good point," Dorcas admits.
"What? No! I'm a villager!" James defends.
"That's what a werewolf would say," Dorcas slurs slightly.
James rolls his eyes. "If I were the werewolf, which I'm not, I wouldn't have killed Marlene. That's way too obvious."
"Unless that's what you want us to think," Evan suggests.
"Oh for fuck's sake," James mutters.
"I think it's Remus," Sirius speaks for the first time.
"Why?" Dorcas asks.
"He seems like he'd be a good liar."
A pause.
The way he says it makes Regulus think this isn't about the game at all. Not when he catches the look in Sirius's eyes or the way Remus's fingers tighten around his glass.
"Plus," Sirius continues, voice light. "He's been too quiet. He voted for Barty without saying anything."
"That's true," James agrees slowly. "Silent players are usually suspicious."
"Works for me," Dorcas shrugs. "I'll vote Remus."
She cringes, glancing at him. "Sorry, please don't dock me for this."
Remus just chuckles and shakes his head
"Same," Evan nods.
Sirius finishes the contents of his glass in one go, and Remus watches him like he's waiting for something else, something worse.
"All in favour?" Lily asks.
Everyone raises their hand.
"Let's see the card then," Lily prompts.
Remus flips it over with little fanfare.
Werewolf.
"YES!" Dorcas pumps her fist. "We got one!"
"Told you." Sirius's voice is flat.
"Maybe I'm not as good a liar as you thought." Remus says evenly.
"Or maybe I'm just good at reading you now." Sirius tilts his head.
Regulus can't help but frown. Do they have history? And if so, what? There's obviously something going on. Regulus caught Remus with that David guy a week ago, so whatever it is can't have been recent. He notices the way Lily and James exchange a look.
"Alright," Lily cuts through the tension. "One down, one to go. Close your eyes everyone."
When they open their eyes it's Dorcas who's "dead" this time.
"I guess this was inevitable." Dorcas sighs. "The werewolf has taken their revenge."
"Welcome to the afterlife," Marlene calls from where she, Peter, and Barty have congregated on the floor. "Come join the cool kids." She pats the floor next to her.
"We're placing bets on who's next." Barty quips.
"My money's on James," Peter stage-whispers.
"Oi!" James throws a pillow at Peter. "I'm right here!"
"Hey! The living can't hear the dead!" Peter points.
"Then stop talking so fucking loud." James glares.
"So this leaves me, Regulus, Sirius, and James now." Evan crosses his arms.
Regulus looks around at the remaining players. He knows it's not Sirius because...well, that's self-explanatory. It could be James, but James was right, him killing Marlene was too obvious. And then there's Evan. Calm and collected Evan, except for a very specific tell that Regulus knows Evan to have.
And there it is. Evan's right eyebrow twitches just slightly, which only happens when Evan is 1) under stress 2) nervous or 3) lying.
"It's Evan," Regulus announces.
"What?" Evan's eyebrow twitches again. "Why me?"
"That." Regulus points to Evan's eyebrow. "Your eyebrow twitches when you're stressed, nervous, or lying. What're you so stressed about huh, Ev?"
"I'm a doctor, I'm always stressed."
"That's your lying twitch, not your I haven't slept in 36 hours twitch."
"You have different twitches?" James asks, fascinated.
"I don't know what he's talking about." Evan says coolly. "Sounds like deflection to me."
"Yeah, I'm voting Evan." James says then.
"Same," Sirius murmurs, not really looking at anyone.
"All in favour?" Lily asks.
Everyone raises their hands including the "corpses".
"Card," Lily prompts.
Evan flips it around.
Werewolf.
"Villagers win!"
Evan drops down next to Barty.
"My boyfriend, the killer," Barty sighs dreamily, pulling him close and planting a kiss on his cheek. "That was so hot."
"Shut up," Evan rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.
James checks his phone. "Pizza's here."
"Thank fuck," Marlene groans. "Loved the jollof, delicious by the way," she assures Dorcas. "But I'm so hungry I was about to start eating the furniture."
James heads for the door while people start clearing the coffee table. Lily grabs paper plates from the kitchen. The energy shifts as pizza boxes get passed around, people grabbing slices and plates with conversations splitting into smaller groups.
Regulus watches Sirius slip away from the chaos, heading toward the back door. He waits for a moment before following. He finds him on the steps leading down into the garden, cigarette between his fingers, staring at the overgrown plants.
"Can I bum one?" Regulus asks, sitting down beside him.
Sirius turns, eyebrows raised. "Since when do you smoke?"
"Few years now. On and off." Regulus holds out his hand.
"They'll kill you, you know."
"Said the pot to the kettle." Regulus scoffs.
"Yeah, well, do as I say and whatnot." Sirius passes him the cigarette instead of getting another. "We can share. Walbur—mother would have a stroke."
Regulus takes a drag, before passing it back. "She'd have a stroke over a lot of things." He pauses before softly saying "You don't have to call her mother for my sake, you know."
Sirius simply nods in response as he inhales smoke.
They sit in silence for a moment. Music filters out from inside. Regulus recognizes the song as Tezeta (Nostalgia) from James's morning playlist.
"So," Regulus finally says. "Want to tell me what that was about?"
"What what was about?" Sirius takes a long drag.
"Don't play dumb. You and Remus."
The cigarette trembles slightly in Sirius's hand as he exhales. "There's nothing to tell."
"Bullshit." Regulus takes the cigarette back. "You've been drinking like a fish."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"Since when do you care?" Sirius snatches the cigarette from him.
"Since always, you prick." Regulus shoves Sirius's shoulder. "Just because we weren't talking doesn't mean I stopped giving a shit."
Sirius goes quiet at that, taking another drag.
"How long?" Regulus asks eventually.
"What?"
"You and Remus. How long?"
Sirius stares out into the garden. "Few weeks. Months ago."
"What happened?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah, it does." Regulus hugs his knees. "Because my brother looks like he's about to cry or punch something, and I don't like the thought of either of those things."
"He left." Sirius's voice is cold and hollow. "Woke up one morning and he was just gone. Unmatched me and that was it."
He thinks back to what Remus said in the pub. "I'm not built for relationships, okay? I don't have time or...capacity for it." He thought it was a bit harsh then but sort of understandable. But this? This was cruel.
"What a dick."
Sirius lets out a bitter laugh as he passes the cigarette back. "Yeah, and now he's here. In my house. Playing fucking Werewolf."
"Does James know?"
Sirius shakes his head. "He knows about Moony." His voice turns bitter at the name. "They all do to an extent. But he doesn't know Moony is Remus. I didn't know until tonight. Can't exactly tell him now though, can I? Hey Jamie, remember that guy I was hung up on who ghosted me? Turns out it's your friend."
They sit in silence again, passing the cigarette between them. He debates whether he should tell Sirius about the pub incident.
"Do you..." Regulus starts, then stops.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You know I hate when you do that." Sirius scowls.
Sirius has always hated when people would back out of what they were going to say, especially when it was Regulus.
Regulus takes a breath. "Do you still have feelings for him?"
Sirius is quiet for too long. "Doesn't matter."
"That's not an answer." Regulus frowns.
"It's the only one you're getting."
"Sirius—"
"What do you want me to say, Reg?" Sirius turns to look at him now, and despite being sat right next to him, his brother feels so far away. "That I've spent every single day of the past four months thinking about him? That I spent all this time wondering what I did wrong? Yeah, okay. All of that."
"You didn't do anything wrong." Regulus says firmly. "He's the asshole here."
"Or maybe he had the right idea." He inhales more smoke. "You know me. Can't blame him for running."
"That's bollocks and you know it."
Sirius doesn't respond, just stares into the open space, eyes growing more and more distant. Regulus can't stand it.
"Listen to me." His voice comes out harsher than he intends. "Some asshole ghosting you isn't about you being too much or not enough or whatever bullshit is going on in your head, do you understand?" Sirius turns to face him again, slowly blinking. He hasn't spoken like this to Sirius before.
"Reg—"
"No, you're going to listen." Regulus's jaw tightens. "Because I know what you're doing. You're sitting there making it your fault somehow, picking apart everything you ever said or did, and every single one of your faults."
Sirius's silence is answer enough.
"But you didn't do anything wrong. He did. He's the one who ran. He's a fucking coward, Sirius. And that's on him. Not you."
Sirius breaks into a lopsided smile, blinking at what Regulus thinks might be tears. "When did you get so wise?"
"Therapy," Regulus admits, taking the cigarette from Sirius's loose grip. "Lots of it."
That startles a wet laugh out of Sirius. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Regulus takes a drag. "Should try it. Turns out having shit parents fucks you up. Who knew?"
A beat.
"I love you, you know that yeah?"
Sirius says it so quietly, Regulus thinks he imagined it. But when he looks over, Sirius is looking right at him with a soft and melancholic look on his face. Regulus can't remember the last time Sirius said it outright like this—not since they were kids at least.
Regulus's throat tightens. "Yeah, I know."
"Good." Sirius takes what's left of the cigarette back. "Just...needed to say it."
"I love you too," Regulus says, because he does, and because Sirius needs to hear it. That’s a step in the right direction, isn’t it? "Even when you're a mess." He adds, which elicits another watery laugh from Sirius.
They sit in comfortable silence before the door behind them opens.
"There you are," he hears James's voice call. "Pizza's getting cold and—" They both turn to face him. "Oh. Sorry, am I interrupting?"
"It's fine," Sirius's voice is a bit rough. He clears his throat. "We were just coming in."
James looks between the two of them. "You sure? I can—"
"We're okay Jamie." Sirius assures as he puts out the cigarette and stands, brushing off his jeans. "Come on Reggie, I'm starving."
Regulus stands too, and as they head inside, Sirius throws an arm around his shoulders again. It's casual but Regulus can feel the weight of it—the thank you, the I love you, the I'll be okay—all in that simple gesture.
The warmth and the noise hits them as they step through the door. Peter, Lily, and Remus stand in the kitchen laughing at something Remus has just said.
Regulus feels Sirius's arm tighten slightly around him before dropping away entirely.
"Finally!" Barty calls out. "We saved you lot absolutely nothing."
"Ignore him," James appears at Regulus's side with two plates in hand. "I saved you both some slices of cheese."
"Thanks," Regulus takes the plate gratefully.
Sirius stuffs a slice into his mouth unceremoniously. "You're the best, Prongs." He mumbles around his pizza.
"I know," James grins, though Regulus catches the way his eyes linger on Sirius with concern. "There's more in the kitchen if you want."
As Sirius walks toward the living room, James touches Regulus's elbow gently. He ignores the heat blooming where James's fingers press.
"Everything okay?" James asks quietly, glancing toward Sirius.
It's not his place to air out Sirius's dirty laundry to James, so Regulus just nods.
James searches his face for a moment, then seems to accept this. "Alright. But if either of you need anything..."
"I know." Regulus assures him.
James squeezes his elbow once before letting go, heading back into the kitchen.
Regulus moves toward the living room, plate in hand. Sirius has claimed the armchair, legs tucked under him as he picks at his pizza. Marlene and Dorcas have commandeered the couch, heads bent together over Marlene's phone, occasionally laughing at whatever they're looking at. Barty and Evan are on the floor leaning against the coffee table.
Regulus grabs one of the floor cushions and settles across from Barty and Evan, with his back against the wall. There's music still softly playing in the background, Carolina, Carol Bela coming from the speakers now.
He pulls out his phone to text the groupchat.
Barty lifts his head from where he's seated, scanning the room with a feral look in his eyes.
Regulus quickly types in response.
Barty scoffs.
Evan gives him a look and Barty rolls his eyes, huffing before typing:
His eyes briefly meet a concerned Dorcas who glances at Sirius then sends:
The night continues and everyone ends up in the living room with conversations flowing and drinks being passed around.
At some point Lily takes over the armchair after Sirius vacates it to grab another drink. Sirius and Remus never quite look at each other, always managing to be on opposite sides of any conversation. True to their word, Regulus's friends are perfectly civil—Evan even offers Remus another drink.
It's about an hour later when he hears James say "Right, someone's had enough." He turns to see Lily curled in the armchair, knees tucked up, and a half-empty beer bottle still clutched to her chest. Her head lolls at an angle that makes Regulus wince.
"C'mon," James mutters softly as he removes the bottle from her grasp and scoops her up into his arms.
Lily mumbles something that sounds like "m'fine."
"Mhm, sure." James chuckles fondly.
"Night, Lils," Marlene calls, which is then followed by a chorus of "goodnights" to Lily.
James carries her toward the stairs with ease. The way he doesn't even pause to adjust his grip as she tucks her face into the crook of his neck makes Regulus think they've done this hundreds of times—which, Regulus realises with a strange twist in his stomach, they probably have.
When James returns a few minutes later, he's changed into plaid pyjama bottoms and an old Arsenal shirt.
"She good?" Marlene asks.
"Out cold," James confirms, dropping back into his spot on the floor. "She'll be complaining about her head tomorrow."
Regulus watches him settle back in, hair still slightly mussed from changing. His shirt rides up, revealing a strip of skin when he stretches. Regulus has to look away.
Peter yawns into his beer, and even Barty's usual chaotic demeanor has mellowed into occasional commentary.
"I should probably head out," Dorcas says eventually, trying to steady herself on her feet. "Early morning, tomorrow."
"How're you getting home?" Marlene stands too.
"Just gonna grab an Uber. Bit too tipsy for the tube."
"I can give you a ride," Marlene offers. "Didn't drink tonight."
Dorcas raises an eyebrow. "On your bike?"
"Motorcycle, yeah." Marlene corrects with a grin. "You can wear my helmet."
"What about you?"
Marlene shrugs. "I'll be fine."
Dorcas frowns. "I'm not letting you ride without a helmet," Dorcas says firmly. "That's illegal and dangerous."
"Take mine," Sirius interjects.
Regulus's brows furrow. "You have a bike?"
"Sold it. Kept the helmet," Sirius says simply.
"You sure?" Marlene asks.
"Yeah, it's in the hall closet." Sirius waves toward general direction of the hall. "Rather you not crack your skull open."
"See?" Marlene grins at Dorcas. "Problem solved."
"I'm trusting you with my life here. Try not to kill us, yeah?"
"I'll get you home safe," Marlene nods, and for a moment the flirty bravado drops. "I promise."
Something passes between them that has Regulus feeling like he's intruding a bit.
"Right then," Dorcas breaks the moment. "Let's do this before I come to my senses."
Marlene heads to the closet to grab Sirius's helmet while Dorcas makes her rounds, hugging everyone—except for Remus—goodbye. When she gets to Regulus, she pulls him into a proper hug.
"Thanks for inviting me," she says. "Had a really nice time."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. We should do this again." She pulls back, studying his face. "Text me if you need anything, yeah?"
He nods, and then she's following Marlene out the door who's waving goodbye over her shoulder. Regulus watches them through the window as they walk toward Marlene's motorcycle where she helps Dorcas with the helmet, adjusting the straps carefully.
He turns back to the room, feeling his shoulders tighten. He hadn't drank much but he drank enough that he knows his body is going to punish him for it tomorrow. He rolls his shoulders, trying to ease the tension catching up to him.
"We're crashing here by the way," Barty announces from the floor.
"Since when?" Regulus asks.
"Since now." Barty yawns. "Can't be arsed to move."
"I can grab some futons from the closet," James offers.
Barty scoffs. "What for? We're sleeping in Reggie's bed, obviously."
James blinks. "Right..." His voice oddly flat.
"Who said I'm letting you?" Regulus crosses his arms.
"You know you missed us in your bed," Barty grins lazily. "Admit it."
"I missed the peace and quiet, actually."
"Liar." Barty stretches out on the floor. "You always sleep like shit when you're alone."
"I sleep just fine," Regulus lies.
"Sure you do," Evan says knowingly. "That's why you're so well-rested."
"Piss off," Regulus rolls his eyes.
James clears his throat. "Should probably start cleaning up."
"Let me help," Regulus offers, despite the pain rapidly creeping in.
"We've got enough hands," James shakes his head. "You should rest."
"Yeah Reggie, you should rest." Barty singsongs as he stands.
"Don't start," Regulus warns.
"What? I'm agreeing with Jamie." Barty's grin widens.
"Alright, come on," Evan intervenes, one arm around Regulus's waist, the other dragging Barty by the arm.
"What? I didn't even do anything." Barty whines as they head toward the stairs.
"Yet," Evan says.
Regulus throws out a quick "goodnight" before descending the stairs. He can hear the others starting to move around upstairs. Peter says something about the kitchen, followed by the sound of footsteps and bottles clinking as they're collected.
He lets out an audible sigh when they enter his cool and quiet room. His room is dark save for the warm light of his bedside lamp. He drops onto the edge of his mattress and groans as he tries to pull off his jumper, only to be met with the tight pain of his shoulders. The more he lifts his arms, the more his traps pull taut, like ropes being winched tighter with each degree of movement.
"Here," Evan moves to help.
"I can do it," Regulus insists, even as his arms refuse to cooperate.
"I know you can," Evan says softly. "But you don't have to. Let me help?"
Regulus pauses for a moment before sighing a quiet "okay" and Evan is helping him strip.
Barty flops backward onto the bed. "That was fun. We should come to more Miffytebs. Miffytebses? Miffytebsi?"
"You just like causing trouble," Regulus mutters as Evan carefully works both his jumper and t-shirt up together.
"Hey, I was on my best behaviour," Barty argues. "Mostly."
Evan pulls the clothes off in one smooth motion. "Pass me his clothes?"
Barty reaches for the shirt and shorts on the chair and hands them to Evan. "Did you see James's face when I said we'd be in your bed though?"
"What about it?" Regulus frowns.
"Jealous," Evan answers, helping Regulus into his sleep shirt.
"He wasn't jealous," Regulus responds automatically.
"Right," Barty drawls. "That's why he looked like he swallowed a lemon. Same face he made when you were in Evan's lap."
Regulus sighs as he lets Evan rid him of his jeans and help him into his shorts. He doesn't have the energy for this conversation. Because they're wrong. Why would James be jealous? Did they not see how he interacted with Lily?
Barty and Evan strip down to their boxers while Regulus crawls into bed. They settle in, Regulus in the middle where he always sleeps best, despite what he tells them.
Evan presses a soft kiss to Regulus's temple. "How's the pain?"
"Okay." He lies. Being horizontal helps, and the familiar warmth of them pressed to either side eases something in him, but the pain has gotten worse. He knows tomorrow's going to be awful.
Evan's hand finds his shoulder, pressing gently. "Christ, you're so tight."
"It's fine."
"It's not." Evan shifts. "Turn over? I can massage them."
He has no energy to argue, so he obediently rolls onto his stomach, face buried into his pillow, as Evan straddles his back.
Evan's hands are practiced, finding the worst knots immediately. When he digs his thumb into a particularly bad spot, Regulus can't help but groan.
"That bad?" Barty strokes his hair.
Regulus tries to shake his head, blinking back tears.
"Don't lie." Barty warns.
Regulus can only nod. He hears movement through the wall—a door closing softly, the sound of Lily giggling.
He tries not to think about Lily or her perfect hair, or her dimples, or her pretty green eyes. He tries not to think about her in James's bed, or all the times she's been in his bed before.
Regulus moans into the pillow again, tears spilling now, as Evan works deeper.
"Just let it out," Evan murmurs above him. "We've got you."
***
Sirius can't sleep. He's been staring at the ceiling for the past half an hour. The flat is quiet now—everyone gone home or asleep. He turns onto his side, then his back, then his stomach. Nothing helps. Every time he closes his eyes, he's met with the image of Remus Lupin.
Remus Lupin in his living room. Remus Lupin in that navy jumper that made his eyes look like honey in the warm light. Remus Lupin laughing, revealing a dimple that Sirius had kissed a dozen times. Remus Lupin sprawled underneath him. Remus Lupin when he was Sirius's Moony.
That name sits bitter in his mouth now, acid burning his tongue. He'd been the one to give it to him, that first week when J—Just "J" on Feeld—talked to him about feeling restless at night, like the moon pulled at him. "Maybe I should call you Moony then," Sirius had kissed into his jaw.
He's suddenly struck with the memory of him waking up from a nightmare, gasping, and soaked in sweat.
"Hey, hey." Moony places a hand on his chest. "I've got you. You're safe."
Sirius shakes. He can't stop. Can't speak.
"Look at me." Moony's voice is firm but gentle. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"
They lie there, Moony stroking soft circles on his chest as he calms down. When Sirius can finally breathe again, Moony pulls him close—Sirius's face hidden against his neck—like somehow he could protect Sirius from every horrible thing that's ever plagued him.
Sirius presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, desperately trying to push the memory away. But more come flooding in.
The scar on Moony's hip that Sirius found their second night together. It was shaped like a crescent moon and Sirius made a joke about them matching as he pointed to the crescent moon tattoo on his back.
How Moony took his coffee—milk, three sugars, "Sweet enough to rot your teeth." He'd winked at Sirius.
How he whispered that Sirius was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
The way he'd gently card his fingers through Sirius's hair after he came back down, like he was something precious. He can feel the ghost of Moony's fingers tracing the tattoo on his sternum.
That last morning when he'd woken up reaching for him, only to find cold cotton and his own shirt that Moony had worn to sleep the night before. A part of him thought that maybe he'd gone to get breakfast like he'd done so many mornings before. But Sirius had known, even before he grabbed his phone. Even before he saw the notification from Feeld. But he'd checked anyway, like an idiot, hoping maybe—
J has disconnected
How pathetic he'd been, refreshing the app like it might have been a glitch.
Sirius shakes his head, trying to dislodge the memory. It was stupid of him to get his hopes up. To think that he could have more. That he was worth anything more than his body. It doesn't matter now, anyway. None of it matters.
It doesn't matter that Sirius knows Moony's name is Remus now. It doesn't matter that he was here tonight. Because he's gone again. Back to wherever he lives, probably already asleep, while Sirius lies there unable to close his eyes without being bombarded by memories of him.
Fuck you, Remus Lupin.