Chapter Text
Regulus' feet pound against the dirt road. He breathes, each moment measured, his focus narrowing down to each step, each pound of his heart. It echoes in his ears.
He makes the last turn on the way back to his house, wincing as his already tired body is pushed into climbing. It's a bit of an incline, more of a hill that he has to conquer to finally get back to the house perched on top of the hill in the middle of the woods. It's the perfect escape.
There's also a rather nice path through the woods. Regulus used it for walks when he first moved out here, trying to focus on the crunch beneath his feet and attempt to break out from his painful writing block. It hadn't helped for a long time, and even now it doesn't help with his writing at all. It just helps him focus on nothing. The world melts away to a mix of sore feet and heaving breaths, and he stops thinking about his empty house and his empty heart.
Regulus pants as he climbs the back stairs, fishing out his keys to unlock the door. He shuts and locks it behind him as soon as he gets inside. He kicks off his shoes, bending down to place them in more respectable positions. He frowns when a drop of water hits the floor next to the shoes and winces, hurriedly straightening. He'd gone an extra half a mile and it shows. He still needs to do his cooldown, so Regulus stumbles into the living room, the yoga mat already stretched across the floor.
With a tired groan, he drinks a large gulp from his water bottle and sighs. He steps onto the yoga mat still in his socks and starts into his stretches. He's panting on his back by the end of it, eyes closed in exhaustion. The sweat pools and he knows his shirt is soaked, or close to it.
A shower is the next thing on the schedule. A shower is always the hardest thing to force himself up for, the water cascading over his face, clogging his throat.
Regulus hates water.
But he hates sweat more. So he pushes himself to his feet, legs shaking slightly as he finally peels off his socks, tossing them in the sock laundry basket by the base of the stairs. He climbs the stairs with slow steps, sighing to himself again. The house is so quiet. It feels… empty.
Regulus enters his room and smiles slightly as he takes in the sight of Gem and Ini stretched out across the bed. Gem is curled into a tiny ball next to his pillow, Ini literally stretched along the base of his bed, her body extended. Ini is the only of the two cats to peek up at him, and she narrows her eyes.
"I know," Regulus says, a smile rising to his lips as he softly pets her head. "But it's all part of the schedule, love."
Ini gives a croaky meow and rolls onto her back. He rubs at her stomach, her fur puffing. He gets a little lost in the moment, playfully batting at her paws. It's only when Gem stands up, his black fur stark against the white sheets, that Regulus realizes just how much time he's lost.
He glances at the clock, wincing when he sees the numbers. 9:38. He's supposed to be done with getting ready by 9:45.
Gem nudges his hand, pressing his little face into his palm.
"Fuck it," Regulus mumbles. He coos at the cats as he steps back, walking backwards into the bathroom and patting his thighs while he calls out their names in a high-pitched voice.
Ini follows immediately, Gem debating the merits. Both of them hurry when he plops down onto the bathroom tiles, reaching up and over the counter to fumble for their brush. Ini meows with excitement, nearly slamming her face into the brustles, only to pull back and look at the brush with disgust, as if it had been the one to hurt her.
"You shoved your face into it, not me," Regulus says, laughing. He drags the brush through their fur, alternating between the cats, brushing with one and petting the other. The fur floats, sticking to his exercise shorts. They're both warm as they twine around him and Regulus is forced to mentally appreciate Sirius once again.
The cats had been his brother's idea of a make-up gift, showing up at his London apartment a few weeks after their discussions, finally speaking what they had been thinking, ruminating over years. He'd had the kittens cupped in his hands, their legs hanging limply.
Regulus had panicked . And the kittens had been cold, left outside overnight. They'd rushed to the vet, Regulus holding them beneath his jacket as Sirius had chattered on about useless things.
They'd been safe. The vet had taken care of them, and Regulus had taken them home, named them after a star. Sirius had interjected, declaring that since he had saved them, he deserved a stake in the name. He'd split a star name between each cat, dubbing the more reserved black cat Gem, while naming the outgoing tuxedo cat Ini. Gemini.
"Alright," Regulus sighs, his hands tired out. He lifts the brush from Gem's back and drops it back on the counter behind him.
Ini yowls, offended.
"I just brushed you for a long time, Ini," Regulus says. He reaches down and musses her fur. "I have to take a shower now. I have to work ."
Ini stalks away when Regulus gets to his feet, sighing. Gem stays, pressing gently against his leg before jumping nimbly to the toilet lid and settling into a comfortable seat. He blinks big green eyes up at Regulus, who smiles fondly. He reaches down and pets Gem's head.
"Alright. Let's do this," Regulus murmurs. He closes the bathroom door, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the floor. He quickly rids himself of the rest of his clothes, picking up the pile of fabric and dropping it into the laundry basket. He pulls the door to the shower open, staring at the green tiled walls. In and out.
He can do this.
He's done it enough since the…
He shouldn't have a problem with it anymore. But some days are worse than others.
Regulus takes a deep breath and steps into the shower, the door swinging closed behind him. He washes as quickly as he can while satisfying his own need for cleanliness. He keeps his face away from the showerhead, deciding to wash his face in the sink for today.
He can't quite handle the feel of water beating down on his cheeks.
Regulus steps out of the shower and dries himself off, frowning at the mirror when he sees that his hair has tangled. He didn't brush it before going in, which means that it's just gotten more ratty and tangled up from the water. He drags the brush through his hair, wincing as it tugs at his scalp, fighting against the knots. Eventually, his hair hangs wetly around his face. Regulus checks his face in the mirror and winces.
He looks pale. The bags under his eyes are a little darker than usual, his face a little puffier. He's…
He's stressed about his new deadline. He has to revise his editors' new edits within the next month, and he's already dreading going through her scathing words, the jagged red pen that's sprawled across the pages. His doctor's appointments are also coming up, which means that he has to venture back to London and deal with the gauntlet, given that he scheduled them all within the same week. He'll have to deal with people again, have to manage that disgusting rush of stench and tourists.
Gem meows.
And he might also just feel a little lonely. Just a little lonely. It doesn't have anything to do with the date. Or the time of year. Or the fact that Regulus still misses the ocean's breeze, landlocked and warm as he is.
He was always the one that ran warm.
Regulus shakes his head, his hands tightening into fists. He can't think about it. He pushes away from the bathroom counter, and heads into the main bedroom, snagging clothes from the closet before retreating back within. He gets dressed, pausing to pet the patient Gem, the cat still perched on the toilet seat lid.
He'll get to work on editing after he feeds the cats and himself. He can do this.
He can exist. He can exist for a full day without thinking of the past. He can exist for a full day pretending that he's completely fine.
He's been doing that, at least, for his entire life.
Regulus sighs. He hurries down the stairs and enters the kitchen, snorting to himself when he sees that Ini is already primly sitting before the serving area. Gem is still upstairs, but Regulus knows that he won't eat until Ini is far away from the vicinity, so he gets out the wet food and a plate and plops a sizable portion down. He goes through the movements quickly, still not appreciative of the scent, even after almost two years of serving them food. He sets it down in front of her, and she launches herself at it.
He snickers, heading into the pantry to pull out the bag of food. He pours it into the bowl next to Ini's head and she doesn't even look up as the peblets click against the sides of the bowl. He straightens, tying up the bag again.
Breakfast for him. Thankfully, he had remembered to make the overnight oats ahead last night, the combined oats, yogurt, chia seeds, and espresso powder have plenty of time to soak together. He grabs a spoon from the drawer, dropping the lid of the jar into the sink, and spins around.
Time to work.
Regulus crosses the room, heading back upstairs to the room opposite his. The office. It has a nice view, looking out over the thick area of trees surrounding the house, but also peers over the tips just enough that he has a few of surrounding farms. It's all rather dry at the moment, an odd dry spell hitting here in the early days of June.
It's nearly June seventh.
Regulus sits down in his office chair with a thump, digging his spoon roughly into the soft mixture. He shoves a bit into his mouth, chewing quietly. His teeth grit together when he swallows and he hates that he can feel himself tearing up. He sets the jar down onto his desk, shoving it off to one side. He drags the thick stack of marked up paper toward him and stares at it.
He sighs yet again.
"It's time," Regulus admits. He glances over at the clock and grimaces. Nearly an hour after the scheduled start time. It's only a few minutes away from his scheduled break.
Regulus flips open his computer when he feels himself considering taking the break early.
No, he needs to work. He needs to focus. He needs to edit.
He hates editing.
It's the perfect time for his insecurities to creep up on him, giggling behind their hands at his overwhelming failures, his rather vapid writing, empty characters, stupid repetitive phrases, and the astounding commonality between all of his works. Editing is… editing is really the bane of his existence.
Regulus actually does love to write. His fingers literally itch if he spends too long unproductive. He'd spent hours as a child writing hidden little notes and giving them to Sirius and Wesley. His mother had found out at some point and punished him. He'd never stopped and she'd eventually figured out she would have to allow him to continue in some way. She chose poetry, however, and he'd been forced to spend hours understanding stanzas and rhythms and by the end of those long four months, Regulus had gratefully switched to piano when his father had offered an alternative hobby. His mother hadn't been pleased about him pursuing another 'womanly' pursuit as she had said, but she'd liked the way she could lord it over the other high society ladies whose sons had chosen football.
Sirius had chosen rugby, just to piss everyone off. He'd snuck off to practice enough times that by the time their parents had figured it out, another parent had already complimented them on their son's proactive nature. Sirius had been beaming the night Regulus had snuck in to see him, his brother locked up with just rice for twenty-four hours as punishment. He'd planned for the entire thing to happen that way.
Sirius had always been the confident one. He'd always believed that he deserved the world. That's why he had left, and Regulus had stayed and followed their orders until they had passed themselves. He'd set out on his own with his inheritance backing him. He'd made a life for himself, but rarely one he ever felt he deserved. And when he had started to, when he'd finally let himself believe that there might be more than this consciously tiny existence, he had been shown that he should never try to be more than what he is. And while Regulus has plenty of unkind things to say about himself, he is, at his core, a person who writes.
A writer.
A writer that hates editing.
And a writer with a rather cruel sense of humor.
Regulus stares down at the first red slash, just over the chapter title, and sighs. His shoulders slump and it takes an incredible amount of energy to lift his hand to the computer's keyboard and begin his work on a new chapter title.
The day drains away. He spends most of it hunched over his desk, typing out ideas to the edits, and attempting to keep himself from jumping out of his very pretty window. He eats a bit for lunch, coming back to work with an insistent Ini, causing him to contort if he wants to continue writing. It's exhausting, both on his mind and his body. By the end of his scheduled day, around six or so, given his rather off morning, Regulus is ready to just sleep.
He doesn't, herding Ini out of the room and tidying up before heading downstairs. He has a meal in the fridge from last night, which means that he only needs to microwave it before digging in. It's too early to eat, however. He'll be starving by the time he makes it to bed, so he doesn't head to the kitchen. He goes to the living room.
Regulus grimaces when he realizes the yoga mat is still spread out on the floor. He bends down and rolls it back up, shuffling back over to the wall. He shoves it into the space between a bookshelf and the wall and smiles tiredly at the couch. It looks so comfortable and his back is aching after the long day of work. He looks around for the cats, seeing them nowhere in sight. He still grabs the blanket from under the coffee table and drops down onto the cushions, letting out a soft sigh.
He fumbles for the remote and turns on the television.
It's stuck on news.
"The newly named Violent Storm Katherine will be coming down from the south. It seems to be making a path just around the tip of Ireland and rocketing up through the North Sea. This is truly unprecedented, as Violent Storms such as Katherine usually occur in the later half of the year. They also generally make landfall pretty quickly after their formation. This one may just cause some storm surge and will hopefully die out as it reaches cooler waters."
Regulus winces at the rather bright swirl of colors. It doesn't look like a good storm. Those whirling clouds and heavy rain. He'd already weathered a few of them in his little cabin by the sea, hunkered down and under several blankets for warmth, the windows boarded up and the house creaking with the wind, even with the rather paranoia-fueled updates of the Black Family. It had been terrifying alone, and he'd only spent —
It had been barely half of a storm.
And when he had come back inside, it wasn't… it wasn't like they were spending it together.
Regulus clears his throat and hurriedly changes the channel, his fingers clicking together with the force of his pressing. He gets away from the news, landing on one of the few streaming services he subscribes to, and puts on an episode of an American situational comedy. He finds it a little hard to focus, his mind fogged with the memories.
Ini interrupts with a loud meow, jumping up onto the couch and making herself comfortable at his side, cuddled into his thigh. He drops his hand onto her head and sighs, petting her. It's a good combination of distractions, pulling him away from the darker 'what ifs' that his mind is excited to pursue.
"There we are," Regulus murmurs to himself. He sits there, staring at the screen as the episode plays, petting Ini. He lets himself get a little lost in his exhaustion, his body slumping more with each passing moment.
The house is still too quiet. It's still too empty, but it feels less dark as the sun goes down, the indoor lights warm as they frame the room with comfort. His little warm strand of lights frame the large windows in both the living room and his bedroom. It's his extra lights, his extra safety. His warmth without humans.
His new haven. Away from the sea and the safety of starry nights and cold hands.
His phone rings. The sound of ABBA's Take a Chance on Me plays loudly through the speakers, startling Ini. She wakes up and jumps off the couch, Regulus reaching after her. She eyes him warily and the phone keeps ringing, buzzing against his thigh.
He sighs. He knows exactly who it is and also knows he won't stop calling until Regulus answers. Maybe Ini will even come back.
Regulus fishes his phone out of his pocket and accepts the call, pressing the device to his ear.
"Yeah?"
" It's our anniversary !"
"What?" Regulus says.
" Not ours, idiot. Mine and Remus'. I don't know what to do." Sirius whines.
Regulus blinks. "And you're calling me for advice?"
Honestly, Regulus probably knows better than Sirius what Remus would want. His brother's boyfriend had taken the prerogative to befriend him, calling multiple times a week. He can admit that he'd been rather brutish at first, but Remus had proven himself a good conversationalist and non-judgemental, so Regulus had softened a bit. They still had a scheduled call on Saturday nights. Sirius was kicked out of the room so they could talk.
There's a pause.
Sirius clears his throat, the sound loud in the speakers. Regulus is tempted to pull the phone away, but he's glad he didn't when Sirius speaks. It's quiet, muttered.
" I, uh, thought we could… talk about it ." Sirius says.
Regulus can almost imagine that he's scuffing his shoe along the ground, the same shy posture he got whenever he was admitting something he wanted, but really didn't want to speak out loud.
Regulus snickers, leaning back into the couch cushions as he finally relaxes, his shoulders softening.
"Remus will love anything you get him." Regulus says. He knows it's true. In the countless calls they've shared, he has been made aware that the man is a total fool for his bastard of a brother.
" But he doesn't! I mean, last year I got him a car and he — "
Regulus chokes. "A car? Sirius, that's… Jesus Christ."
" He was always complaining about taking the Tube !" Sirius screeches.
"That doesn't — Sirius, to most people, that's an incredibly expensive purchase that can make them uncomfortable."
A pause.
" Oh. " Sirius says. Then a bit more wonderingly. "That's what he was trying to tell me. "
"Yes, most likely." Regulus says sarcastically. "So perhaps go with something a little cheaper. From what I know of Remus, he won't value the monetary aspect, merely the thought behind it."
Sirius snickers.
"What?" Regulus snaps.
" You just — you talk so proper ." Sirius laughs.
"I also may be ensuring that you have another anniversary to begin with, so keep that in mind when you're laughing at my superior social skills."
Sirius keeps laughing.
"I will hang up," Regulus threatens, but a smile is overtaking his face.
" Okay, okay ," Sirius says. He has to calm himself down.
Regulus waits and very obviously doesn't hang up.
" So any actually helpful suggestions ?"
Regulus rolls his eyes. "You know him best."
" Well — "
Regulus happily interrupts Sirius, smiling as he murmurs a 'little shit' that's nearly lost beneath his own words.
"If you must go expensive, Remus would appreciate collector's editions of books. Otherwise, I would recommend that you plan a vacation. That man does not sleep enough and with his work hours, you barely spend time together. He also did not have the budget as a child to do the same trips we were able to experience, so while also expensive, you can aim for a more middle ground and compromise. Perhaps allow him to pick the destination and do not plan the entire thing without his knowing. Give him a voucher or such for the actual anniversary or discuss beforehand so you may travel on the day off, because he will no doubt be upset if you plan it completely on your own."
There's silence on the other end.
"Sirius?"
Sirius clears his throat. It sounds a little wet and… it makes Regulus' heart hurt.
"What is it?"
" No, you're just… " Sirius says. " That's a great idea. Remus has been talking about going to New York for a while. I mean, not really. Just mentioning the museums. I think he'd… it's a good idea. Thank you, Reg. "
Regulus swallows roughly. He blinks back tears, a smile brightening his face. Both the thanks and the nickname… he hasn't heard that in a while. When they'd been living at home, their relationship had collapsed as soon as Sirius had gone off to school and his brother had never looked back to see if Regulus had grown or changed. He supposes his rather abrupt disappearance may have startled Sirius into realization. When he'd come back to London, Sirius had found him within a year. A private investigator.
"I'm happy I could help," Regulus says quietly.
" Yeah ," Sirius clears his throat again. " So, what's up with you ?"
Regulus lets out an involuntary groan. It makes Sirius laugh, so he doesn't let himself get too embarrassed.
"My editor sent over the draft, so now I have to make the edits she suggested myself. It's quite tiring."
" Sounds like it ."
"She's a good editor. It's just… it's sometimes a little… unkind."
" You always did better with constructive criticism ," Sirius says.
Regulus blinks. He… yeah. He guesses he did. Sirius often complimented him as a child when he got stuff right. They huddled together beneath the bedsheets and Sirius whispered lessons to him that he'd received with the lash of rulers during the day.
"You were the best teacher," Regulus blurts. He cringes, his head dropping back against the couch. He barely holds back a yelp when he makes direct eye contact with Gem, the cat having crept up and curled onto the back off the couch without his knowing. It's nice to have him here, as always, but startling.
" I am ," Sirius says. It's a little puffed up, and Regulus can see the smug grin on his lips.
Regulus laughs softly, shaking his head. He doesn't disagree.
"When's your boyfriend getting back?"
" Another few hours. I'm so bored ."
"You're talking to me," Regulus says, "how can you be bored?"
" Reg, I hate to break it to you, but you're pretty fucking boring ."
Regulus also doesn't disagree with that. He is pretty boring. He spends most of his time inside, the majority of that time spent either on the couch or at his desk. He has two cats which he adores. No boyfriend to speak of, no parties, no drinking, no sex. Barely any friends and what contact they do have now is a phone call every once in a while and a few texts a month.
He tries to not remember the laughter or the sunset or the sand beneath their toes as they'd ran into the water completely naked, the bottle of liquor left back on the beach. Tries to not remember the whispered conversations, intertwined and never going quite that far. Tries to not remember the way he had drained their entire stash in a few days, the wind battering outside, and his own voice wailing inside.
It was a lot easier to be boring when he knew how exciting ended.
Regulus clears his throat. His eyes are wet, and his throat is thick. He doesn't want to think about it anymore.
"Well, Siri, we could discuss your recent book club."
Sirius screeches wordlessly into the phone. Regulus snorts.
" It was terrible! I don't understand how people can like it. I think Remus was going to strangle the woman who suggested it at the end. She's new, so they really shouldn't have prioritized her over Remus. Honestly, it's such a silly… "
Regulus sighs, settling back into the couch and reaching back to stroke Gem as Sirius plays out the entire situation, his rant perfectly distracting.
Regulus would have valued that distraction a lot more if he knew what awaited him in his inbox.