Chapter Text
They’d lived through this day 5 times already. Everybody always said that it would get easier with the passing of time - that the grief would never truly go away but that it would fade to more of a dull ache, rather than a sharp sting. In some ways, they were right. Most days of the year they could now live normally - or at least what passed for normal for them. Rarely did one or both break down over the sight of a stranger with dark hair and sharp cheekbones, or the smell of that specific blend of chai that you could only actually buy from one coffee shop but that he always seemed to have stocked in his flat.
But there were some days - specific dates - where the dull ache morphed cruelly back into a fresh, gaping wound. Leaving them both gasping and clawing for air, unable to escape their own bed in which they would cling to each other, hiding from the bright light of the sun which always seemed to come out on these days. Almost mocking them in its intensity.
Holidays were hard, looking at the empty space in the group where he should be sitting. Their own birthdays were hard, knowing that there was a gift missing from the pile. Something that would be pretentious and practical and so disgustingly thoughtful that it made them sick just to think about it.
The first time it passed, barely 3 months after he died, they had thought that Regulus’ birthday would be the hardest day for them to get through. They were still so deep in their grief, the loss so fresh, that they simply hadn’t been able to perceive that it could get worse.
That was, until the first anniversary.
Barty had lost his best friend, his platonic soulmate, the one person alive who fundamentally understood him as a person. And James had lost his other half, his romantic soulmate, the man who he would live and die for over and over again.
So it made sense, in a way, that their shared grief over his loss would pull them into each other's orbit. After all, they were the ones organising his affairs, they were the ones having to plan the funeral and the eulogy, and they were the ones who had to argue over custody of Leo, his menace of a catt
Neither wanted to be alone on that day. Both too tempted by the idea that they could follow him to wherever he was, they had stayed together. Made promises to hold each other back from the edge that they were both so perilously close to. And so, ensconced from the world inside James’ flat, looking over photographs and trading stories over bottles of whiskey they had fallen into bed together. For comfort, companionship, relief. And then they had just never quite fallen out of it.
A cruel irony that their anniversary - the date that they had finally broken the barrier of 2 people sharing grief into a couple mourning the loss of the glue that had brought them together - was the same day he’d died.
Ever the optimist, James thought that Regulus would be happy that they had found something together. That wherever he was he was watching over them fondly, pleased that they had built something good from the ashes of his absence. Barty knew better - he’d known Regulus longer, knew the sharp edges that he’d dulled so that he didn’t hurt James with his affection. He was possessive, jealous and often selfish - he wouldn’t accept James moving on at all, least of all with his best friend.
But 5 years had now passed since Regulus died. 4 years since Barty and James collapsed into each other to soothe their grief. And they spent it the same way as they always did - drunk, swapping memories, alone but together - and ending the day twisted in the sheets, desperately clinging to each other to feel alive.