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Regulus was lying face down on the bed, writing another of his poems while waiting for his boyfriend for a short weekend walk through Hogsmeade. He isn’t too excited to go, but James has always loved weekends so he’d probably go anyway.
The weather is starting to get colder than usual for mid-September, so he opted for more appropriate clothing for the season, choosing tailored trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt, as was his custom.
Despite it being September, Regulus always wears long-sleeved clothes, which is natural for him, never worrying about feeling a little warm. Some students theorize that he hides the Dark Mark underneath them, which is nothing more than a mere theory; at only 16 years old, it's almost impossible to have the mark of Lord Voldemort's followers.
Many of these theories have emerged since he entered the school, and obviously it's because he follows the Black family tradition of being a Slytherin, unlike Sirius, who completely changed course, being considered a disgrace to the family.
Regulus often thought, "What if I went to Gryffindor?" No one knew what would happen if that were considered, because, before, Sirius was Walburga's favorite son, everyone's favorite cousin, and personally, the best person in the world to Regulus. He could see the best in his older brother, but not in himself. But to himself, Regulus was just Regulus, nobody's favorite, nobody's first choice. He thought he would probably be burned off the Black tapestry as soon as the first letter of Gryffindor could be recited.
While lost in thought, he is startled by soft knocks on the door, which then opens slightly.
"Reg, Meu amor, how are you today?" said James, walking towards his boyfriend and giving him a loud, affectionate kiss on the cheek.
As if it were part of his daily routine to ask Regulus how he was feeling, he does so while demonstrating affection for the other's well-being. He started doing this even before the relationship began, as he knew all the worst moments the young man had faced living in the old and noble Black residence, and how all of that affected his boyfriend's daily life.
“I feel better now that Mon Soleil is here,” said the dark-haired one, turning completely towards him so that he could pull the other closer and give him a long kiss.
No matter how many times Regulus kissed the boy, he never felt worthy of it. James was the sweetest, bravest, most loving, and most beautiful boy he knew; he saw him as the sun. But Regulus was the complete opposite: bitter, fearful, distant, and often hating his own appearance. He saw himself as a huge dark cloud covering everyone's sun, making everyone sad. He felt he was destroying the sun with his stupid cloudy days; he thought that one day the sun would want to reappear completely and emerge from behind the clouds, that's what he thinks he deserves.
James is aware of Regulus's thoughts and promises and tries to show him all the time how much the boy deserves to have everything he wants and dreams of, but Regulus still can't fully understand why.
Potter knows this and many other things because, although Regulus is always a very reserved person, he tells the older boy practically everything; there are very few things he has never told James.And it is these things that frighten the boy, for one of them is his secret, which he considers the most repugnant thing about himself.
He constantly feels oppressed by an invisible weight on his shoulders, forcing him down, waiting for him to fall. An unbearable pain that tries to consume him from the inside out every miserable second, until, at some point, he stops feeling anything, only that. He has felt this way for as long as he can remember, but there are always moments when he feels worse, moments when he doesn't feel present in his own body.
James knows this.
For a long time, he tried to help, researching the subject. Hours and hours of study spent in the library, reading and rereading the same books that led nowhere.
But one thing the boy didn't know was that Regulus had found something; he had found a book that said everything, about how Regulus felt, when it worsened, and even some of his habits. But as soon as Regulus read that it was an incurable disorder that was still being discovered by the Muggle world, he stole the book and hid the evidence of its existence. But he refused to accept that this was all he had. Of course, he couldn't accept it calmly; he could only think that he couldn't be another burden on the family. He was the only one left; he was the last and only Black heir.
Although he wasn't fully aware of it yet, the situation worsened after Sirius's departure. At the time, he began to harbor a certain hatred for James because of it; the only reason he wanted to keep living had disappeared, leaving him forever.
It was that summer that he began with the second thing James wasn't aware of, what he considered "the most repugnant thing about himself."
Besides not being able to take care of himself or feed himself, Regulus began to hurt himself.
The first time this happened was one night when his mother made a scene upon discovering that Regulus had accidentally knocked over one of her crystal glasses while Kreacher was helping him drink water, as he was still in bed because he didn't have enough energy to get up. She locked him in his room with the shards still on the floor beside the bed as punishment for his misbehavior. That night, once again, his mind wouldn't stop racing, preventing him from sleeping with a disturbing sensation throughout his body. He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat on the floor, gathering the small pieces of glass that the goblet had shattered, holding them in his palms and clenching his fist tightly, feeling the points pierce his skin and the warmth of the blood coursing through it. At that moment, with tears streaming down his face and blood slowly dripping from his hand, he thought he had found a small relief; the physical pain had become palpable, lessening the boy's mental anguish.
Regulus would never tell his boyfriend about his terrible habit until he had the courage to talk about it himself, or at least that's what he thought.
“Regulus, hello? Earth calling Regulus.” The Slytherin seemed lost in his own thoughts again, so the Gryffindor snapped his fingers near his eyes. “Amor, you seem a little spaced out today, are you sure you’re alright?”
"Sure, Jay, I'm just a little tired, that's all, don't worry." Not that he was feeling bad, but sometimes he felt like his body just got tired on its own, without any effort.
"If you're tired, we can stay here, spending the afternoon comfortable is not a bad idea. We'll have it next weekend to go to Hogsmeade, don't worry."
"Are you sure? Today is a great day for a ride, I would hate to ruin everything just because of a little tiredness."
When James put an idea in his head, it was difficult to dissuade him, and Regulus didn't have enough emotional energy to develop a good argument, but he tried anyway.
"Then let's make a deal: let's wait here for an hour. If you're okay, we can go; otherwise we can't."
"Okay, let's stay here for a while and then leave if I feel more rested."
The connection between the two was almost telepathic; they always knew what to do to make the other feel better.
James moved closer to him on the bed and snuggled up next to Regulus. He stroked his black hair, absentmindedly twirling a few curls with his fingertips. The boy loved this kind of affection, and although he wouldn't admit it, he considered it his favorite. The older boy often said that the Slytherin was actually a giant black cat with storm-colored eyes, and even joked that he thought the boy would almost purr during the petting.
They remained in comfortable silence for quite some time, so much so that Regulus almost fell asleep right there in his boyfriend's arms.
Gradually, James lessened the caressing of Regulus's curls and began to seem a little restless. Until he broke the silence that hung between them.
“Um, Regulus, can I ask you a question?” said the Gryffindor, looking quite apprehensive.
“ ‘Course, James? What is it? Did something happen?” he replied immediately, finding the other's behavior strange, almost as if he feared the worst for that conversation.
“No, there’s nothing wrong, Meu Amor, there’s something I need to ask you and I need you to be honest with me.” He shifted cautiously in bed to look into Regulus’s eyes.
It was possible to see the serious tone in James's brown eyes, which startled Black. If there was anything that scared Regulus more than difficult conversations, it was difficult conversations coming from James, because the boy always avoided them as much as possible, always bringing something to lighten the mood instead.
"I don't want to sound crazy or weird, okay? But I've noticed you always wear long sleeves, even when it's hot. Why?"
Regulus's world stopped for a moment, then began spinning rapidly.
His breathing became more erratic, and thousands of questions filled every space in his brain in just a second.
Why is James asking this? Did he see something? Did he imagine it? What made him wonder about this?
He clenched his fists nervously and could feel the small raised marks on his palms, still remnants of the first night. His breathing was even more erratic, and along with that, Regulus's gaze drifted to his own wrists, which remained neatly tucked beneath his torso, locked close to his chest to prevent them from slipping out of control.
He couldn't look his boyfriend in the eyes as tears began to stream down his face, one by one. His mind screamed and his body involuntarily begged him to flee; his arms and legs grew hot, and he could feel the sweat clinging to his clothes, completely overwhelmed by a wave of nervousness.
James placed his hand on the boy's face and wiped away some tears that were running down his cheeks. Regulus still hadn't looked at him.
"Hey, Regulus, look at me, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that, that's very rude, sorry."
Then Black looked into the other's eyes, deeply, his eyes even more teary than before, but with a terrified and angry expression on his face, ready to attack. He didn't know what he might see in Potter's pupils when he looked at him again; he was afraid his expression had taken on disgust or worse, pity. But the only thing legible in it was pain, not as if Regulus were hurting him, but as if he were taking on the other's pain.
"You heard the rumors, didn't you? Those damn rumors!" He sat down, slightly annoyed, wiping tears on his shirt, but continued without giving his boyfriend time to interrupt him: "And you believe them, of course you do! What else could a Black be but a damn Death Eater?" The tears in his eyes, barely wiped away, were already welling up again, so he looked into his boyfriend's eyes, waiting for an answer.
"What? No, I'm sorry, Reg, I didn't hear any rumors about you and this Death Eater thing, I swear." James also sat up, trying to hug his boyfriend, but was stopped by a hand that pushed him away forcefully.
"Then why?! So why this damn question, James?" He's in tears, he knows exactly where all this is going, there's no escaping it now.
With Regulus's hateful expression at that moment, James knew he had ruined everything.
Perhaps if he had waited longer to address the issue, or perhaps if he had approached it differently, he wouldn't have hurt his boyfriend so much.
He never wanted to cause any of this. The previous week, he had been distressed when, after spending the afternoon with Regulus after a whole summer without seeing each other, he saw scars and marks on the boy's arms, some whitish, others reddish, and others still healing from recent inflictions. He was scared; for the first time in a long time, he had deprived himself of feeling fear alone. He couldn't tell anyone before talking to the boy himself, which he thought would be a great opportunity to do that afternoon, but now seemed like a huge mistake.
But he needed to do this; he was worried about Regulus and wanted to make it clear that he would be by his side for anything he needed. So, amidst all the chaos, he became rational again and continued.
"I'm sorry, Regulus, I swear I didn't mean to scare you, calm down Meu amor, I'm really sorry." he says as the other finally falls on top of him in an awkward hug, while the older one covers the top of his head with kisses.
With Regulus giving in and returning his boyfriend's hug, James felt more at ease; he hadn't ruined everything yet. He let the boy cry on his shoulder, saying nothing while he probably drooled on the other's shirt, simply allowing James to do it.
“I promise, on my mother’s life, that I haven’t heard any rumors, Estrelinha. I’m sorry for intruding. I didn’t mean to be intrusive in your private affairs. If you didn’t want to tell me, I shouldn’t have told you before you. It’s just that…” He paused for a second, as if trying to control the urge to cry or stop his voice from trembling. “It’s so hard to think about it. I was so worried. I don’t know why you didn’t want to tell me. I really don’t know, but just imagining you going through this alone makes my stomach churn as if I’m going to throw up.”
He waited to see how Regulus would react, but the younger one remained as he was, sniffing the curve of his neck, so he continued.
“I saw, I know I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that, but some nights when I spent the night here you fell asleep so suddenly that your clothes got crumpled on your body in a way that looked uncomfortable, so I decided to straighten them, and when I went to lower the sleeves of your shirt, which were rolled up a few inches, I saw some scars and cuts. At the time, I didn’t immediately realize what they were, but the next day my mind replayed the image so many times that I finally noticed. I was worried, I didn’t know what to do.”
After a few more words, Regulus lifted his head from his boyfriend's shoulder and whispered almost inaudibly,
“If you knew, why did you ask?”
The intensity of the young man's voice was so palpable that James felt a lump in his throat and discomfort in his stomach.
“If you knew, why did you ask?” sounded somewhat perplexed. Regulus understood what James was saying; he wasn't bothered by the fact that he knew. He seemed confused that he had said that instead of simply throwing in his face what he already knew.
And, more than ever, James saw in them the remnants of the Black family upbringing, the threat and the impulsive defense even before being questioned. That's how he was raised. In the Black family, it didn't matter what you did or didn't do; if someone thought you had done something wrong, there would already be consequences. There was always an allegation, but never a question.
Then, looking at Regulus again, the Gryffindor's eyes filled with tears.
"I never meant to deduce anything, Reggie, let me tell you, I would never force you to say anything if it wasn't your will, I would never do anything like that. Even though it ended the way it did, I tried." James held Regulus's face in both hands, gently caressing it just below his moist eyes, and said, "I want you to know that I will always be here for you, that I will always listen to you and want the best for you, and I will never force you to do anything you don't want to do. No matter what those disgusting people who think they're your family say, you are the most incredible human being who has ever walked the face of the Earth and you don't deserve to go through anything alone. If you feel like this again, I'm here to help you, because I love you, and all I want in life is to see you well and happy."
Instead of crying again, Regulus cupped James's face on both sides and pressed their foreheads together, a delicate but firm movement as if afraid he would escape.
"Je t'aime, James" was all he said before closing his eyes, still maintaining the same position.
"I love you too, Regulus, with every single piece of my being."
Then, little by little, Regulus gave in, stopped crying, and relaxed. James pulled him closer, and together they fell onto the bed, embraced, their breathing lighter and a soft silence hanging over the room.
After all the crying and tiring conversation, both were so exhausted that they no longer wanted to go to Hogsmeade, so neither bothered to ask about the place; they simply stayed there as they were until they were almost asleep.
“James,” Regulus said after a long time, his voice so low he thought the other wouldn’t even hear him, given his almost sleepy state. But the other mumbled a “Hum” immediately afterward, proving he had heard and urging him to continue speaking. “Thank you for not judging me about it. I find it disgusting to look at myself every day because of it. Maybe I’ll feel more comfortable about it from now on.”
James tilted his head slightly, as if trying to see what was etched on his boyfriend’s face, but in their position it was impossible to see. The black hair flowed and tickled James’s torso, the younger, difficult boy’s face nestled between the other’s neck and chest.
"You don't need to thank me for anything. That's not something I would do under any circumstances. You're not disgusting just for feeling what you feel, Regulus; that makes you a hero, a warrior. Maybe it sounds like a lie to you, but seeing you fight every day and so strongly inspires me deeply to keep trying to be a better person."
"You don't need to try at all to be the best person in the world, you know, you already are."
"That's a big lie," then they both laughed, not that pleasant laugh you give on a sunny afternoon telling jokes with friends, but a joke that proved everything was alright between them, and regardless of everything, it would always be alright.
“James,” he said again.
“Yes?”
“I want to show you.” His voice was even more inaudible than the first time.
“No, Regulus, you don’t have to do this. I know it’s a sensitive subject for you. You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to, James, I want to.” Then he paused for a second, calculating what he would say. “I feel safe with you. I was wrong to think I couldn’t tell you about this. I want to show you. I want to show you because now they’re just scars from the past. They’re all healed, if you want to know. I don’t intend to do it again, especially now that I’m here with you at school, away from my parents. And anyway, at some point you would see them. It’s not like I’m going to get dressed up to have sex with you, is it, Potter?” Then Regulus gave a nasal chuckle, the warm air from his nose touching James’s neck as Regulus sealed the spot with a quick kiss. He then stood up and sat cross-legged directly in front of James.
James was taken aback for a few seconds, he would probably have blushed if he had asked anyone, but he quickly recovered and sat down as well.
Regulus closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a few deep breaths.
“You really don’t need to do this,meu amor.”
“Shut up, James.”
And he fell silent. The Black's eyes opened again and stared into the depths of the taller man's soul. Then they descended to his own torso, where his hands unbuttoned each button of his shirt, one at a time. When he reached the end, he removed it completely.
Then it was possible to see the pale skin beneath. Regulus, who never had a very athletic body, still had a firm abdomen from Quidditch, which didn't impress James, since the boy had strength.
As soon as the dark-haired man looked closely at his stomach area, he froze; there were misshapen whitish marks scattered everywhere, his arms and belly were full of them, even on his chest there were some. James saw that Regulus had been doing this for a long time; the thought made James nauseous.
How long has he been doing this?
Some were more purplish than others, showing that they were deeper or more recent than others. James then noticed that the waistband of the pants continued with other scar marks, so it occurred to him that there were probably more marks further down.
He had the automatic urge to touch them, to somehow feel them. He didn't want Regulus to feel more vulnerable, so he restrained himself, but he couldn't quiet his thoughts, so the question came unintentionally:
"How long has this been going on?"
It slipped out unintentionally, but there was no going back. He thought Regulus would be offended, but he just nodded and said:
"A little over three years."
They looked at each other for a few seconds. James also agreed; he wouldn't ask any more questions for now. Regulus's hand rested on his thigh as if he didn't know what to do next, so James took it and did something the boy didn't expect: He brought his hand to his mouth and sealed the nearest scar with his lips. He paused, giving the other space to move away if he wanted, which he didn't, so he continued.
He kissed each small scar on the boy's left forearm.
With that, Regulus began to cry again, but not from sadness, but from pure and true passion. It was at that moment that he saw how loved he was.
James continued kissing his boyfriend's arms, and when he finished there, Regulus lay down again so that he could, in a way that wasn't uncomfortable, kiss all the other visible scars on his abdomen, which he did.
He declared there that he loved every part of Regulus, from the parts that Regulus loved to the parts he hated, he loved him completely, all the time.
James Potter would have traded his name if necessary to make Regulus believe he loved him, but at that moment neither of them needed that, because he saw that he not only loved him but had a certain devotion to the boy.