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Regulus always hated moving. No matter how many times he shoved his clothes into a bag and walked away, he reckoned he would always hate it. At first, he held a simple hope of getting used it, like minimum wage workers and their impassiveness to their jobs.  

He hadn’t gotten used to it.  

Regulus felt alien each time, out of place whenever moving season rolled around. An unbearable feeling, but as he soon found out; most things in life were.  

He was an honest wreck. Somehow worse than usual.  

His bottom lip had split down the middle, torn from his own anxious gnawing. For a moment, he contemplated hauling himself into Benjy and Emmeline’s guest room. Hog up the space and truly make himself at home. They had the space, but they also had a wedding around the corner and no room for a grown man leaching from them.  

Regulus ran off pure delusion and bone-chilling fear. An equal balance he supposed, it kept him sane and away from foolish choices.  

Benjy and Emmeline had yielded an arm and a leg for him, respectively. They hadn’t needed to, but it was in their nature, it was what they were made of. He couldn’t help but take advantage of that.  

It was time for him to do something in return for them, even if it meant a shit attempt at getting his own life back on track.  

Staying here was only a thought. Regulus was not going to succumb to that especially not whilst staring at said room, a bitter taste already on his tongue.  

He grasped his bag, slung it over his shoulder and leant over to flick off the light switch. The door closed gently, for the last time. Both Benjy and Emmeline were waiting for him, the latter with her arms already spread wide, silently asking for a hug. Regulus bit back a complaint and with a fake sigh, let her— he hadn’t a clue when the next time he’d see them. She was also persistent in a way that unnervingly reminded him of Barty, or worse. His brother. 

“I’ll be fine,” he managed to force a smile, grabbing at his own waist. He had no clue if he was trying to reassure them or himself. It frightened him. “It’s not like I’ve never met him. He’s not a complete stranger. I’ve spent over half of my life with him. Under the same roof, it can’t be that bad.”  

His shot at optimism failed to land, Benjy snorting blatantly at him. That was the last time Regulus would ever try to console anyone, clearly, he was useless at it.  

Emmeline smiled, a tad off herself. “Well, if he does drive you up the wall, we’re always here.” 

“Guest room and all,” Benjy spoke, hashing down at whatever awkward atmosphere had crept up on them. “Promise we’ll drive you up the wall slightly less.”  

Regulus hummed. No way. He wasn’t even going to entertain them. He had entertained himself with the idea and it got him nowhere but further emotionally constipated.  

“Hey,” Emmeline frowned at him. “We- I can tell you’re worrying. You need to unclench; you can’t keep this habit of dramatizing your problems. It’s almost like you want to give yourself a heart attack before 20. The idea of moving in with us clearly had you thinking the world was going to end at 17. You’re 18 and it didn’t, promise me you won’t prematurely go bald from stress before 30?” 

Regulus snorted, smothering a smile down. He wasn’t too sure how to answer her little monologue. “You know I can’t promise you that. The inbreeding and Englishness don’t exactly mix well together.” Watching them giggle felt like a small mercy, shattered as they picked up his bags and it sunk in.  

Was it not too late to hide out at Barty’s? He’d gone his whole life invisible; he was damn sure that he’d be able to hide from Barty Crouch senior in peace. Not like Barty’s dad was ever around. Rooming with Barty sounded much more appealing than Sirius.  

His brother had an uncanny ability to make his presence known. It was borderline narcissistic, a trait he’d definitely received from their mother. If he couldn’t see him, Regulus could hear him, loud and obnoxious, voice carrying his emotions so strong, Regulus could inhale it. Choke on it like it was strangling him. If he could do neither, Sirius would spawn eventually. And if all failed, James Potter would arrive in his stead. Curly locks, a shit ton of moose and eyes like darts, target constantly changing until it landed on Regulus. Hitting him where it hurt.  

“You’re not rooming with Barty.” Regulus had no idea how she did that. It wasn’t always accurate, sometimes too late but no one else had ever clocked onto his thoughts like she had. “It’s like you Crouch and Rosier are conjoined at the hip. Co-dependency isn’t good for either one of you, you can live a solid life without being at each other’s beck and call. Sometimes, I wonder if you realise that you’re almost as bad as Sirius and the lot.”  

He looked at her, flatly. No one could out do his brother at attachment issues, and it certainly wasn’t him. According to his therapist, Regulus had the opposite. He had a lifetime collection of library cards to prove it.  

“I still stand by Blue as a perfect funeral theme. Black is boring… and basic. A little too on the nose as well.”  

Benjy cracked out a cackle. 

“If it comes to it, don’t invite my mother.” Regulus flung open the front door, the chill September air hitting him square in the face.  

“Regulus.” 

“She’s one persistent woman, you have to keep an eye at her. Our family history is a little too fond on necromancy. God forbid she steals my casket and tries her chance; she’ll personally revive me to send me to hell herself.”  

“You know what, let’s head to the train station early.” Wise choice. Regulus’ entire plan was to stall until they missed it. One he borrowed from Sirius and was yet to succeed at. 

Regulus stifled a groan as he followed them out to their car. He stood to the side, hovering next to the back car door. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets as he glared at the ground, waiting for Emmeline. They were a cute sight, Benjy fussing over her with extra care, but Regulus knew that they would only get cuter after marriage.  

Emmeline chuckled when she spotted him. “Wish we didn’t have to get rid of you.” She unlocked the car and took a seat, talking to him in the same tone she used for her dog. “It’s like having our own child. A test run?” She turned back over to Benjy as she started the car. “What do you think? Should we keep it for a little longer?” 

Regulus scowled at the bark of laughter that followed, watching Benjy throw his head back. He wouldn’t be surprised if Benjy accidentally amputated his head off one day. 

“Aww, don’t look too sad, Regulus!” Benjy leaned over to look at him, sitting with a frown in the middle seat, looking more like a cat forced to go to the vet than a child. “Not like it’s the worst thing a parent has said to you.” 

“Okay, but my mother’s insults had purpose.” Or that was her reasoning, left everyone else with less to insult him on if she got to it first. “Whatever you're attempting to do only makes me want to slam my thumb between the car door.” 

“Aww, look Emmy!” Benjy reached to tug at his cheeks. “He’s pouting again.” Emmeline moved her head as if she were about to look before Regulus kicked her seat. 

“Don’t. Last time Benjy got you to turn and look at me, we had to get a new car, and you got points on your licence,” he bit out, batting Benjy’s hand away. “And for your information, I don’t pout!” He scooted over to the window seat, his arms crossing naturally. 

“Oh look, you’ve gone and made it an angsty, moody teenager. Didn’t even have to manually update it.” 

Regulus glared at the blurry window, ignoring her as he watched the city he’d gotten so accustomed to go by. The rain hadn't helped his mood, but he doubted anything could. 

“Yes, Benjy,” he gritted out between clenched teeth, holding his belongings in one fist, “I have everything.” He flashed the ruined bag at him, wanting to point out that there was hardly anything for him to forget, but that would only turn into an argument. It always did, they wanted to decorate him with something new and Regulus was always far too proud to let them. He settled on gifts, for special occasions and said presents filled his bag. The very bag Benjy had decided to go through one last time in case anything was missing. Regulus had a sinking suspicion that he was just trying to steal something small as an excuse to come up to visit him. Not that he needed one, but Regulus wasn't going to willingly let them know that. 

“Are you done?” Regulus sighed; eyes averted to the ground in embarrassment. With one hand stretched out, he waited for his bag. Benjy wasn't making leaving any easier, not with the way he’d been fussing over Regulus for the last thirty minutes, like he actually cared. He expected to be handed his bag and sent off with a wave, but the two had other plans for him, tackling him back onto the metal of the seats. He felt the tell-tale signs of teary eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into Emmeline’s cardigan. It was wool, scratchy enough that it hurt the more he pressed in. He felt it was a fair enough trade; he had ruined it with his snot. He muttered out a sorry and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth once more.  

There was a lot Regulus could say and  should say. He stayed silent instead. He let them hug him, wanted to return the favour, desperately, but lacked the courage to force his arms to move. They held him tightly and it was hardly what he wanted, but it was the next best thing. 

It was nice. He couldn’t recall being held like this for a matter of time. 

When he entered through the train doors, he hadn't looked back. Knowing that they weren't expecting him to. He took a seat at the end of the train and fished out a battered version of Maurice, choosing to read the annotations in favour of the actual text. 

He got lost in the words as he left London. 

When the train stopped and the speaker inevitably announced that they had arrived at Manchester, Regulus stayed in his seat and allowed everyone in front of him to leave. His good grace was all superficial. He didn’t care at all about the social politeness of letting an old man closing to dropping head out the door first. The rings adorned on his fingers keep him busy, momentarily. Occupies his thoughts until it is his time to stand up and grab his bag.  

The woman speaking from the speaker blares out a couple of warnings and then Regulus is through the door, out of London and away from the anxiety that somehow always managed to catch up to him.  

The train station was unfamiliar to him. Of course it was, Regulus had never been to Manchester in his entire life. He didn’t venture to new places, never really had the freedom to and by the time he did, Regulus had realised he had an affinity for sticking to what he knew. It was his own fault that he was out of said comfort zone, a fact he was so painfully aware of when his eyes set upon his brother. His oh-so stupid brother. 

“Why on earth would you hold a sign up for me. In pastel pink glitter ,” Regulus bit out, snatching the sign to ensure it was no longer waving around in Sirius’ grip. “You know what my face looks like, you twat, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to forget yours.” Not like he could; he’d stalked his Instagram with Benjy until Sirius’ face had merged with his own. 

“Told James that the first words I’d hear out of your mouth would be highly unpleasant,” Sirius grinned widely at him, unfazed. His ability to grin at him like there wasn’t a massive five-year wedge between them was astonishing, it had Regulus doubting in himself. It surely didn’t feel like this was there first-time meeting in years. "I thought it was a nice touch! You don’t like it? I slaved away at it for almost two hours.” His brother was pouting.  At him. Regulus was torn between slapping the pout right off his face or barrelling him over with a hug. 

Like Regulus would ever let the latter happen.  

“If that took you almost two hours… I’m scared for the future of your art degree.” He hadn't been shocked when his brother had ended up an artist. If anything, he was shocked that he was pursuing it at university. Sirius had always been the first to complain about learning art through classic education, rigidly against the idea of art having rules to be taught in the first place. And really, the idea of his brother willingly putting himself back into education was alien. It was also reality.  

Sirius was always better at processing his thoughts and emotions, not that he was good at it either. But he always had something, someone , to fall back on when plans changed. Regulus was painfully aware of a lot of things. The fact that he and his brother were so different, yet both were no longer Black’s in every sense but name. The fact that his brother could draw eyes with just a smile. The evidence? Right in front of him, stood in the middle of the train station staring at Regulus with the biggest grin on his face, eyes around them on him like he was born for it. Unlike his brother, the Black’s had dug their claws way too deep into Regulus and he had nothing to show for it, besides a crater full of scars.  

Sirius hadn’t changed, but neither had Regulus. They had always been eons apart.  

"Oh, shut up,” Sirius chuckled. It was weird seeing a face that looked like theirs - that looked like his own, display emotion like second nature but it was Sirius and Sirius could make anything work. “Now let’s get you out of here. You’re looking a little worse for wear, Reg.” Sirius ruffled his hair, his curls frizzing up. “Where’s the rest of your bags?” 

“This is it,” Regulus replied shortly. He was ever so conscious of his face, it had always been a give away that Sirius could immediately spot, he did not need flack for not having an entire wardrobe full of items. This encounter was already taxing enough.  

“That better not be it,” Sirius frowned, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek. “When Benjy reached out to me and told me you were staying with him, he said he’d care for you properly.” He looked one revelation away from personally seeking out anyone who has ever inconvenienced Regulus.  

It was downright dense.

To even subtly infer that Benjy hadn’t kept up his promise, one Regulus was unaware of, was inane. It almost had him scowling off. Benjy did not re-plaster his ceiling because Regulus hated the popcorn look of it to carry the burden of Sirius’ dramatic accusations.  

A bitter and immature part of him wanted to point out that Sirius hadn’t exactly kept his promise either. He wasn’t the first to break one, but it was the first one that truly pained Regulus. It wasn’t on purpose; it was never his intention. Hell, Regulus had hurt Sirius too; it was in their blood.  

Who hadn’t hurt the ones they loved most? Wasn’t it a requirement?  

“Did they not get you anything?”  

“They did,” he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t their obligation; they weren’t his parents. Unfortunately, Regulus had a set of those.  

Sirius shot him a look and Regulus waved his backpack right back at him, shooting him his own look.  

“You see this? All the stuff in here is stuff they got me; Christmas, my birthday, New Years… fucking bank holidays . If it doesn’t look like much to you, it’s not their fault.” Regulus had to clamp his mouth shut before he spilled everything. A weird effect Sirius had— he’d piss you off so much, you’d end up giving him exactly what he wants.  

Sirius stared at him, blank, and he couldn’t tell a single thing he was thinking. “We’ll buy you more stuff when we get to the apartment, but we’ve already filled your room up a bit,” Sirius spoke, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Ah. So he was choosing to let it go, ignore whatever the hell had just happened.  

“You didn’t have to, and you really don’t have to buy me anything. I have enough money.” Regulus couldn’t distinguish from where his lies started and ended. They had all spewed out of his mouth, a tangle of webs stuck between his two hands.  

He gave Regulus a pointed glare, one that totally said he wasn’t going to listen to a single thing. “You know this one bag thing might be beneficial,” he replied with a weird tone and eyes up to the ceiling. He snatched the bag right out of Regulus’ hands and pointed towards the carpark. “Got rid of the old car. It was asthmatic by the time I got to uni.”  

Regulus snorted. “How did James take it?” 

“Nearly died. Said it was his prized possession.” Regulus turned the wrong way and Sirius put up an arm to block him, guiding him correctly. “Had to remind him that the lease was under my name.”   

“So what do you have now? A shitty mini cooper, has to be something tiny and awful if you’re not boasting about it.” Sirius rolled his eyes, muttering out a ‘you’ll see.’  

When they step out, it’s chilly. Regulus had never been accustomed to the cold of the North. He’d only been up this far once.  

“Where’s the car?” he questioned, turning as his eyes scanned the car park. 

“See, that‘s where you have it all wrong!” Sirius replied excitedly from behind him, watching Regulus as he spun around slowly. There was a fat smirk on his face and his hip had jutted out, resting against a motorcycle. “Now when did I ever say there was a new car involved?” 

“Clearly not you.” Regulus blinked owlishly at the thing. “You're stupider than you look if you think you're getting  me anywhere near that.” He began to walk away. 

“Where the hell are you going?” 

“I’m not sitting on whatever the fuck that it is, Sirius,” he huffed back, still walking. “Do you even have a spare helmet? Do you even have one for yourself?!” 

Sirius guffawed. “Excuse me, I do have two! And how are you going to get to the apartment if you don’t know where it is?” 

“I’ll manage.” 

“You’ve never been here before?” Sirius muttered out, pacing after him. “Look, it seems scary, but I promise you, it’s not. I’ll even let you choose between the pink and red helmet!” He held his hands within the air, like Regulus was being the unreasonable one. “You’ve never sat on one before or at least one that was moving. You can’t say you don’t like it until you try it. Without that you’re just spreading misinformation, Reg. And it’s not like you’ve grown much since 14, I’m sure we can both squeeze on it and make it out fine. Two birds, one stone.”  

“Tiny little tip; if you want to placate me, don’t compare driving to a bird you want to hit when my number one concern is you hitting a tree and killing us.” There were a few seconds of silence. “And secondly, I didn’t need to grow, unlike you, because I shot up first.”  

“Okay, okay, whatever. You’re so tall and lanky, you out measure me any day.” Sirius reached out for his shoulders, turning towards the bike. “Now will you get on? The security guard looks like he’s about to tackle me.”  

“Probably because you’re manhandling me?”  

“Oh my God. He probably thinks I’m a kidnapper.”  

Regulus stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re so unique, Sirius. I have never met anyone like you before, truly one of a kind.” It shot out of his mouth like an insult, not a compliment in any form.  

Regulus slid onto the bike before Sirius could do anything else stupid, like open his mouth again. “Kill me and I’ll find a way to spawn back here and drive this clutter of metal off a cliff.”  

Sirius held his keys to his chest. “Murder whoever, whatever you want. Murder James if you have to, just leave my bike alone.”  

“Tell your bike to leave me alone!” he groaned, frustrated. “I don’t want to die at the age of 18 because you decided a bike would be the best mode of transport.” 

“Stop being so dramatic.” Sirius shoved the helmet onto Regulus’ head, tightening it an absurd amount.  

“Stop giving me the evil eye.” 

“I hope this thing kills us.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and pushed down Regulus’ face shield. “Always dramatic, aren’t you?” He said under his breath, stepping over the bike to sit down. “You ready?” 

“No.” Regulus huffed, hands holding onto the bike for dear life. 

Sirius turned on the engine and drove slowly, chuckling. Regulus mentally noted all the ways he could wreak havoc to the bike.   

Regulus hated being wrong about things. Fortunately, his brother’s driving skills weren’t one of them.  

Sirius drove like he was being chased on a shit ton of cough medicine. The slow driving Sirius had begun with was a trick to calm Regulus, stop him from believing that he was going to die spontaneously from a crash.  

Regulus wished the latter had happened, that way he wouldn’t be left with a raw throat from screaming his lungs out.  

“How was it?” Sirius grinned, still sat on the bike with his helmet in his hands. The prick somehow had avoided helmet hair, unlike Regulus who was glad he couldn’t see his own reflection. He didn't need a mirror to know his hair was a mess of loose curls. “Stop frowning at me, Reg.” Sirius covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the grin undoubtedly there. 

“Oh, I’m so glad my misery puts a smile on your face,” Regulus bit out, leaning against the bike. His legs felt like jelly, the sole reason he was willingly touching the spawn of Satan. “You’re not driving me anywhere  ever  again.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” 

Regulus glared at him, still looking a little bit green. 

“I stand corrected. We’ll get you travel sick medication next time!” Sirius said brightly. 

“There is no next time,” Regulus grit out, slightly hunched over. “Try insinuating that again and I’ll throw up on your shoes... or maybe your helmet.” 

“Oh, come on! I’ve put you through worse . I still remember your face when I took you to your first theme park. Heights really aren’t your thing, are they?”  

Regulus looked back at Sirius with confusion. “I’m fine with heights. It was Narcissa that hurled on the sling shot.”  

Sirius paused. “But you’ve always hated heights?”  

Regulus didn’t bother to reply, sure enough that the look on his face was enough. Sirius had gotten him and Narcissa confused. It stung. Regulus wasn’t afraid of falling, he had done too much of it for it to be considered foreign.  

He was afraid of fast things. The lurch in his stomach as he was propelled forward and the anxiety as his surroundings turned into a muddy blur of colours. Nightmares and memories all soiled into one, there was no differentiation on what was real and not.  

He shouldn’t hold it against Sirius, but grudges came natural to him. Besides, Regulus had remembered every little niche thing about Sirius, he was living proof that it wasn’t that hard to simply care.  

Living with Sirius wasn’t going to be difficult. This back and forth of high euphoria and bitter pettiness was going to kill him.  

He watched Sirius' face falter. He turned away before he could see any more.  

A silence grew between them as Regulus was guided into the building. Sirius waved to some blonde behind the reception counter, then they entered a small elevator.  

“James isn’t home right now,” Regulus could feel eyes bore into the side of his face as he listened. “So, I’ll show you the living area and then, we should probably tal— no, we  have to talk.” 

He nodded as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sirius handed him a key with a quick mumble to ‘not lose it,’ pushing him into the apartment. 

“The decor is...” Regulus fought the urge to frown. “Questionable.” He watched Sirius turn around and stare at the apartment he had made a home in as if he had never seen it before. 

“Well to be fair,” Sirius grinned, still staring at the design of the wallpapers, “it came like this, and we were too lazy to redecorate. James just decided to roll with the 2010s look.” Sirius nodded over to the beige cabinets. And beige coffee table. Not forgetting the beige couches whilst he was at it.  

Regulus picked up a cat pillow from the sofa, looking down at it with disdain. “This Potter’s idea too?” 

“Perhaps, but we don’t need to worry about it now, do we?” He threw the latter a knowing look. “Not when my little brother went through an entire phase of watching renovating TV shows.” 

Regulus blushed, dropping the pillow back down onto the sofa. He didn't know what surprised him more, that he’d only been living with him for not even 10 minutes and Sirius was already making him do his dirty work, or the fact that he remembered one of his stupid fixations. Probably the former, Sirius had a history of evading chores. He ignored the blush clinging to his cheeks, deciding to look around. 

“It’s not as big as what you’re used to, but it’s got its charms. It’ll win you over one way or the other.”

Regulus wasn’t too sure about that. This place had Potter all over it.  

Sirius wrung his fingers together like he was nervous. A stark difference to earlier when he had picked Regulus up with a wide grin on his face, arms wide open. Anxious didn’t look good on Sirius, it was unusual. Sirius was brave, headstrong. Never unsure, and it had been like that since they were young. Even if Sirius’ reckless decisions had chances of fucking his life over, he still went through with them knowing he’d be able to swerve himself back onto stable tracks again.  

“Listen, the money—” 

Regulus cut him off with a scoff. “Is this what your entire act is about?”  

“It’s a big place!” Sirius waved his hands around, lacking any sense of the decorum their mother had drilled into them. “The rent is higher, and we pay for it, not Effy and Monty because we chose to be independent because we could. You don’t have that choice… It’s why we don’t want you to pay. If only your stubborn ass would let us handle it.” He looked like a kicked puppy, a grimace on his face as he stared at Regulus in anticipation.  

“You’re not the only one with a fat trust fund.” Regulus in fact did not have a fat trust fund. He hadn’t gotten one at all.  

Regulus had replied in a rash fashion, shocking not only Sirius but himself too. Did it physically pain Sirius to have some faith in him? Regulus had been through the mud, had washed the thick, sticky residue off his soul and sofa surfed through it all.  

“Okay.” Sirius levelled him with an unwavering stare, “Save it. Invest it. Buy a fucking Lambo with it. You don’t need to waste it on here when I’m here and able to look after you. Where the hell did you even get the trust fund from?”  

It was just like Regulus to dig himself into a whole and then succumb to the inevitability of clawing himself out, ripping his nails out for a chance to go unscathed. His mother was out of the equation. His dad too. Alphard. Bella. Rodolphus. Andy— “Narcissa.”  

Sirius let out a squawk. “The twat didn’t even give me two pounds for the bus home when Bella abandoned me in stoke.”  

“I was her favourite.” Not enough for her to give a damn about him after he left. Not enough for her to even reach out and ask him if he was even alive, let alone a lifeline in money.  

“Always the favourite, Reg.” Sirius’ stare was heavy and for a second, they were scrambling to win a staring contest. It was ridiculous. Childish. It was the closest Regulus had felt to home since he had stepped foot in Manchester.  

Sirius blinked and Regulus won.  

If he was going to survive it here, make a life out of his last option, he figured he’d have to continue with his bucket full of lies, handful of wins.  

He watched Sirius huff, let the latter then drag him towards the entrance for a tour of the apartment in some weird form of compensation.  

Regulus thought he could like it here. Maybe after he renovated it, but spending time with Sirius wasn't as awkward as he thought it would be. It had been years, yet Sirius talked to him like those years apart had never occurred, like he didn't think about them, wasn’t constantly haunted by them. Maybe he wasn't and maybe that was why this seemed all so much easier for him than it was for Regulus. 

When they were done, Sirius headed up to his room, something about needing to fetch a thing or two, leaving Regulus there alone, stood in the middle of the room, feeling so out of place. 

He wasn't an idiot, he could tell he looked out of place; the room was so warm, in temperature and colours. Soft in ways he wasn't. It felt like they had taken a file to every sharp corner, shaving it down in preparation for Regulus. Bubble wrapping the entire place as if he were a kid, waiting to injure himself on the first threatening object. Regulus was thankful, in a way. If Regulus wasn’t the perfect puzzle piece for this soft room, he doubted it would be any easier trying to jam his own jagged ends into a sharper container.  

He moved towards the sofa, deciding he’d just wait for Sirius instead and leave thinking too deeply for a professional. Or a male podcast group.  

The sofa under him was soft to the touch and allowed Regulus to fully sink into it. The fabric under his hand felt like a tap, false security. It was different to Emmeline and Benjy’s. Their couch had several loose springs and a missing arm to rest your head on. Regulus would periodically fall asleep on it and wake up with a nick in his neck. He’d still take that one over the sofa under him any day. This one felt nice. Felt a little deceitful as well, the luxury of it seemed far too good for Regulus.  

He got up and let his eyes guide him to a coffee table.  

He picked up a little picture frame, the big smiles on James and Sirius’ faces drawing him in. For as long as Regulus could remember, it had been him and Sirius. And for almost as equally as long, Regulus had been surviving on his own. This wasn’t the same for his brother, and the pair of smiles he stared down at was proof of that.  

He leaned down to put down the frame back in place before the door swung open, frightening him enough he dropped it. The frame shattered around his feet, but his attention was reserved for the door.  

Body frozen, enough guilt on his face to rival a prisoner and he was still unnoticed. Not even the shrill noise of the glass breaking had made him perceptible to James Potter.  

How James hadn’t heard him was a mystery; robbing his apartment would be too easy of a job. If he wasn’t busy stood there, feeling pathetic in a way that mirrored his twelve-year-old self, Regulus would have bit out a remark. Or maybe not. Potter always got too smiley when he was verbally berated.  

James shuffled in and began to unload a bag full of fruit, back still turned to Regulus.  

He was inclined to turn this into a game, see how many more objects he could break in James’ presence before he put down the stupid blueberries and looked at him.  

“You’re back?” Sirius walked in, holding something in his hands. Good timing, really. Regulus had begun eyeing up the roman clock in the living room.  

Sirius glanced at the bags and hastily shoved whatever was in his grip into a random drawer. He pat James on the back, eliciting a scream from him.  

“Don’t jump a man when he’s weak and susceptible!” James used a pack of strawberries to hit him square in the chest.  

Sirius grabbed them, peeled open the plastic and began savouring them like he was starving. “That’s your fault. I was speaking to you, prat.” 

James sheepishly took his AirPods out, hidden underneath the mess of his curls.  

Hot shame swam its way around Regulus’ stomach. Well, that was a tad embarrassing. 

He had been a minute short from monologuing before Sirius had returned. Regulus turned to face the wall, a grimace on his face. He couldn’t look at Sirius nor James without wanting to squeeze his eyes shut in raw embarrassment.  

Maybe Regulus was the narcissist of the family.  

“Have you two said anything to each other yet?” he asked casually, his eyes darting back and forth between him and James like he expected some sort of explosion. 

Regulus thought it was a little silly that Sirius was treating them like they were still pre-teens who couldn’t string together a normal conversation. He would be right. Not a single thing had happened whilst Sirius was gone, besides silence and the mental gymnastics Regulus put himself through daily.  

It was when Regulus finally decided to turn away from the wall that James look at him, flushed and eyes wide. He looked like a fish out of water.  

“Fuck,” James whispered, “you were there the entire time? How did I not notice… especially when you look s—” He cut himself off and turned towards the shopping bags with a sheepish look.  

Regulus snorted. “Look so what, Potter? Come on now, let’s use our big boy words.” Regulus’s lips twisted into a vague smile, “Am I going to have to teach you how to flirt?”  

Sirius sighed at him.  

James huffed a laugh out. “I mean, I work best with hands on experience.”  

Regulus leant forward, his eyes glinting. If he wasn’t so sleep deprived, he’d stop himself before this conversation spiralled out of mean teasing and into something far worse. Mean flirting.  

Honestly, who did Potter think he was? Not even ten minutes and he had put Regulus through every emotion under the sun.  

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”  

“Good thing we don’t have a ten-foot pole.” James smiled at him; eyes bright. “Just this tiny apartment. Really, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”  

Regulus scoffed.   

“Don’t flirt with my brother.” Sirius looked disgusted. “Look at him! He’s not even had his first kiss yet.”  

Regulus furrowed his brows. “I’m eighteen. Of course I’ve had my first kiss.”  

“Nope. You are still but a child, I fear.” He flopped down onto the sofa. 

“And you’re still very much delusional. Where do you even come up with your bullshit?”  

Sirius stuck him the middle finger.  

Regulus rolled his eyes. He pushed himself up onto the counter and leaned back, feeling the handles of the cupboard dig into his back. If he stayed here long enough maybe it would permanently put a dent in his back, finally mar his skin with something different. Regulus’s body had been whole for a while, a lie compared to his spoiled soul.  

As he watched James lose a round of rock, paper, scissors, Regulus hoped that moving here would be enough. He’d go insane if something didn’t change or click into place.  

“You said you were going to get something for me?” Regulus asked curiously, his legs slightly swung as he leant against the cabinet, too tired to keep acting like he didn’t want to be here. 

“Yeah, I did.” Sirius began to play with the bottom of his shirt, turning his head to see where James was putting away snacks. “I’ll give it to you later. We’ll show you your room and let you get settled first.” 

Regulus nodded, feeling like he should be moving around the apartment hastily like James. He chose not to, reasoning that he had yet to unpack and thus was still technically a guest, so he sat there watching them scurry around with a little grin on his mouth. 

He heard a soft voice before he felt a nudge to his shoulder and then he was waking up to a face full of James’ glasses. 

“Reg?” 

“Don’t call me that,” he managed to mutter out, ignoring the desire to yawn. He chose to glare at him instead; the lights hurt his eyes. 

“Sorry,” James’ grin didn’t make him look like he was sorry, “you fell asleep, Regulus.” 

“No shit.” He mumbled under his breath, moving from the counter. “Where’s my brother?” 

“Right here!” He heard from the side, “You missed me?” 

He rolled his eyes, not bothering to look in his direction. “Room tour?” He asked, slightly slurred, slightly annoyed that they had let him fall asleep on the kitchen cabinet. 

He could hear Sirius’ smile when he replied, “Yeah,” before he was walking down a hall stopping first by two doors. The first one James’ and the second one Sirius’. They were both white, plain doors that looked like they had been robbed straight out of an Ikea. He turned to Sirius giving him an unimpressed look. 

“That’s what you're here for!” 

“I am not decorating your room for you Sirius.” Not free of charge at least. 

James snickered but stopped when Regulus’ gaze landed on him, choosing to grin at Regulus instead. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks, so he impatiently nudged Sirius. But it wasn’t Sirius who turned to the last door, holding Regulus’ shoulders as he moved him, whispering into his ears; “That one’s yours.” 

“Oh, thank you. I really wouldn’t have been able to work that one out by myself.” He entered the room, scanning every corner, speechless. His room was the only area of this apartment that looked remotely decorated and at that, didn’t look like it had strolled out of early 2010. He was immediately drawn to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, spotting a few of his favourites at the bottom. He could hear Sirius laugh faintly as he knelt down to peer at the books closer. “A catcher in the Rye? Really, Sirius?” 

“Oh, come on.” 

“Huh?” Regulus ignored the confused sound from James, pulling each book out with excitement before sliding them back in. Most of them were books he had read a thousand times but some of them were new. His eyes fell onto skeleton flower at the very end before he turned and threw himself at Sirius. Sirius who just managed to catch him. 

“How did you know?” he questioned. “No fuck that. How did you even find it? It’s hard to find in Korea let alone internationally since, you know.” 

“Took me a while,” Sirius said into his hair. “But after a few trips, I found it.” 

Regulus remained tucked into Sirius’ shoulder, muttering his thanks quietly into the soft cotton. He wanted to whisper an apology too, apologise for ever doubting Sirius, but he held onto them tightly and instead chose to grasp onto Sirius tighter. 

“It’s nothing, Reg.” 

Regulus leant back glaring up at him, about to disagree, before he was startled by the emptiness of the room. It felt a little colder. “Where’s James?” 

“He left midway through you burying yourself into the bookshelf,” Sirius sat on Regulus’ bed patting the space next to himself. “Wanted to give you a little privacy.” 

Regulus scoffed. “Sure he did.” He shrugged his shoulders when Sirius pointedly looks at him. He did promise over text to get along with James, but it wasn’t like he was in the room to get along with. He was holding up his end of the promise just fine. 

“Close your eyes.” 

“No.” 

“Come on Regulus. Don’t be difficult or I’ll have to blind fold you.” 

He closed his eyes, pursing his lips. “Hurry up then. I feel stupid.” 

“Hold your hands out.” 

Regulus reluctantly held his hands out, a smooth velvet box slid into his palms. “What is this?” he murmured, fiddling around with the fabric. 

“You can open your eyes.” 

His eyes cautiously opened, not afraid but wary. Regulus wasn’t one for presents, it had taken months for Regulus to get used to the random presents Emmeline and Benjy had gotten him and by the time he had gotten used to them, he was already leaving. When he carefully opened the box, he held his breath. He had no idea what to expect, not expecting Sirius to give him anything at all. Not expecting the decorated room, the books or even the chance to stay with them. With  him . 

He ignored Sirius’ nervous glance as he looked into the small box before his mouth opens, letting out a small gasp. “I thought Mother destroyed it?” 

Sirius looked embarrassed as he responded, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “No, I kind of stole it after mum broke my own. I forgot I had it and by the time I was going to give it back to you, I…” He had left.   

“You kept it?” Regulus whispered, taking it out of the box, his fingers gently smoothing over the metal. “All this time?” 

“You couldn’t be parted with it,” Sirius grinned. “I think I’d have been the same if mine wasn’t cash. I knew how important it was for you to have it everywhere with you, like a lucky charm. It kind of became my own lucky charm whenever I needed you.”  

Regulus wanted to hurl something horrid at him. Question him until he couldn’t speak anymore. There was no chance on earth that Sirius had needed him, Regulus had been findable. Sirius knew where he was until he didn’t. Regulus had needed Sirius too, but that mutual desire wasn’t enough.  

For Sirius at least.  

He felt his throat close up before he forced himself to speak, to ignore the tears fighting against his closed eyelids. “You teased me so much for taking the stupid keyring everywhere.”  

“I knew you’d want it. It’s a bit ironic though? Most of the items kids choose on their first birthday don’t mean anything, Barty’s was a Gavel and now he’s doing everything to get out of his family’s shadow.”  

Regulus scrunched his eyebrows at him, slightly confused and feeling far too much at being called ‘Reggie’ after all these years. “I mean yours was money and you got a fat trust fund from Uncle Alphard.”  

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Reggie yours is a miniature violin. You may not play anymore, and your life also isn’t dictated by it either,” what Sirius really meant was that his life wasn’t dictated by their mother anymore, “but that talent deep within you hasn’t died. You’re a star at whatever you do, and you’ll never lose that.” 

Regulus wanted to argue. He was not talented. Not like Sirius who had picked up a pencil and couldn’t seem to let go of it. Regulus had forced his talent, it wasn’t natural. It was deceptive, he was an imposter amongst a family of virtuosi.   

He startled at the knock on his door frame, James hovering over the open door. His pulse quickened, had he heard the conversation? Why was James looking at him like that? 

“I’m ordering food instead of making anything,” James smiled. “I figured you guys would be too hungry to wait for me to cook.” 

James cooked. He stored that information away for later. 

Sirius nodded, getting up. “We’ll order a curry, right?” He walked over to the door. “There’s a good place in the city centre.” 

Regulus nodded, feeling dazed as Sirius told James exactly what to order for him, perfectly. He guessed his taste hadn’t changed over the years. 

Sirius got his phone out, deciding to dial the number himself when he remembered the never-ending allergies Regulus had. In a couple of weeks, he’d find this all funny. 

“You like your room?” James said suddenly from the side of him, forcing Regulus out of his reverie. He didn’t know when James had moved from the side of the door, he couldn’t say he was fond of James’ ability to move around so silently. Regulus was used to knowing where everyone was at all times, painfully aware of others, he wasn’t sure if it irritated him that he had no sort of bearings when it came to James. He was a little relieved. 

“Yeah,” he wiped his face as subtle as he can. “Reminds me of my room back in Korea. Probably not a coincidence, hm?” 

James grinned at him, confirming his suspicion as he moved closer whilst Sirius finished the call. “Biggest one too.” 

Regulus hummed, not all too surprised, Sirius liked small spaces, Regulus didn’t. Him having the biggest room was probably not a coincidence as well. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy having a big room,” James grinned. “Also, the only one with a lock too, so at least you have privacy. Can lock Sirius out when he stumbles into your room after a night out and wants a cuddle.” 

Regulus’ face scrunched up. He was not surprised that James and his brother cuddled each other. It made sense if anything. 

“Yeah, James because he’s going to need  all  that privacy when he’s writing his sad boy poetry.” Sirius shoved his phone back into his back pocket, snorting as he walked over to them. He was soon cut off by a groan, Regulus had decided to throw the empty velvet box at his head. 

“I’m going to need all that privacy for when I strangle you and need a quiet place to figure out where I’m dumping your body.” 

“As if you need the time, you’ve had every step planned out since the day I went to Hogwarts without you.” Sirius forced out, clutching his head as James ran his hand through Sirius’ hair, teasingly. 

“Exactly,” Regulus smirked. “Stop trying me.” 

Sirius shook his head. He sighed and then his gaze was landing back onto Regulus. “You wanna get some rest now?” 

Regulus nodded once again, still feeling dazed. He wouldn’t be getting any rest but if it helped Sirius feel better, then oh well. He started to unpack as the two left. 

“You said he was going to be mean,” James snorted. “I don’t know if you brought back the wrong Black, or like the wrong asian kid from the station, but that wasn’t very mean.” 

“Don’t call my brother ‘that’,” Sirius groaned, hitting James on the shoulder as the latter snorted. “Just let it kick in for a few more days, you’ll wish you never agreed.” 

“Look who’s calling Regulus an ‘it’ now?” 

“That’s your fault,” he smirked as he settles back into the sofa before frowning. It hit him suddenly; the realisation that he didn’t know Regulus anymore. He didn’t know how he’d act over the next few days, didn’t know if he still liked debating or if he ever pursued youth mayor like he always wanted to. It hit him fast, but it stayed, clawing into him slowly in an agonising way. He didn’t know his baby brother anymore; he couldn’t warn James of anything. 

“What’s wrong?” James asked, scooting over with scrunched eyebrows. 

“I don’t know if this is wise anymore, maybe it never was,” he muttered out, feeling a wave of tiredness hit him. “Look, I'm not even prepared for it! I spent so long mentally preparing myself I wasn’t even physically ready for him!” 

“Sirius.” The warning in his tone was undoubtedly clear. James was telling him not to spiral. 

Who was Sirius Black if he didn’t ignore every warning thrown his way. 

“Did you know I went to pick him up one the bike?” 

“Yeah?” James asked confused, staring at Sirius like he didn’t understand Sirius’ panic. 

“Regulus hates fast things. Always has.” 

“Oh, too bad, you pushed him out of his comfort zone a little,” James replied teasingly, trying to make Sirius smile. 

Sirius didn’t smile. He frowned. “That’s not even the big issue. I picked him up on the motorbike. The tiny motorbike, James! He’s been on his own for a year now and I figured, hey he could pack all his stuff under my tiny seat. No, I didn’t even figure, I didn’t even think. James don’t open your mouth with something to say because I can’t. I got lucky. Lucky that his one bag fit. James, one bag.” The sweat beading on his forehead only pushed Sirius further into a panic. “I should have been looking after him, not our friends! I should have known he ran away because he should have chosen to come to me! But he didn’t.” 

“Sirius—” 

“The issue isn’t the motorbike, or his fear of fast things or the fact he has one bag, James. The issue is me!” 

One minute he was staring at James through blurry eyes, tears rolling down his face, and the next he couldn’t see a thing. James had him in a hold so tight he could only close his eyes as he leant on his shoulder. Leant into the embrace, clutching James tighter in hope that the cold feeling that had creeped its way through his bones would finally melt away. 

“You’re not the issue, Sirius,” James whispered gently, his voice soothing to the ear. “We both know who is. This isn’t yours or your brother’s fault.” 

Sirius didn’t reply, choosing to listen. 

“You’re brave Sirius. You’ve done it once and you can do it again. You can say you don’t know him all you want, but Regulus is here in the room  you decorated, pads. He hugged you because you knew him so well. The Regulus you knew may have changed, but he isn’t gone.” 

Sirius hoped he hadn’t, he missed him.