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James
The crowd was loud. Every stomp of feet, every chant, every roar seemed to vibrate through the turf beneath him. A sea of blue and white jerseys swept around the stands as Toronto Blues fans hollered excitedly, and James wondered where his parents were sat. He never knew for sure because they liked to switch it up, to take in the atmosphere properly each game. Wherever they were they’d be hollering just as loud as all his fellow college students.
James stood behind centre and scanned the defence, assessing every possibility, they were weak on the left, their line bowed a little more on each down. he glanced up at the clock. There were three minutes left in the second quarter, and they were up thirty to ten so he wasn’t overly concerned.
"Blue Eight! Blue Eight!" His voice cut through the noise. "Fifty-four's coming. Watch the edge."
Sirius glanced over to him and lifted a hand. The ball snapped and a pocket formed. James dropped back. Fenwick broke free down the right so James launched it hard, the spiral left his hand perfectly. Thirty yards. Forty. The stadium exploded as Benjy made fifty yards down the field.
James punched the air and howled in celebration. "Let's go!"
Sirius tackled him in excitement, leaping onto his back, they were flying. The reads were clean and every single one of his throws were landing and by halftime the Blues led comfortably.
However, the locker room buzzed with anxious energy because even with their easy lead, nobody was relaxed, not in a playoff game. Gathering the team, Coach Shacklebolt pointed a marker at them. "They're frustrated."
"No shit," Sirius muttered cockily.
The room laughed.
"They're going to get desperate." That sobered everybody slightly. His eyes landed on James. "Protect yourself."
James saluted. "Yes, Coach."
"Don't be clever." He said seriously. “And don’t get arrogant. You don’t need to run every damn ball that you can’t pass straight off.”
Sirius barked a laugh of surprise. "Potter! Arrogant! Never."
Shacklebolt hummed forebodingly. "Keep your heads. And Black. Keep your head.”
“Yes coach.” Sirius said with a wince. James watched him, he knew Sirius was on thin ice, he couldn’t afford to get into anymore trouble on the field. They all knew that the next step would be a hefty suspension, and they couldn’t win this season without him. James nudged him with his shoulder and Sirius smiled through the disappointment he knew he carried, the thought that he’d let his team down.
“Just focus on me.” James said quietly. “Catch the ball and ignore all the shit they give you.”
“Easy for you to say.” Sirius grumbled.
“Don’t give into their expectations Pads.”
Sirius scoffed and rubbed at a grass stain on his helmet.
Following their coach’s departure from the locker room, James gave his half time pep talk and then they were back out for the third quarter, however this time, the opposition came out angry. Expressed in late tackles and more than a few words exchanged after the whistle. The sort of things that happened when a team was losing. Which consequently impacted play. The first drive stalled. The second wasn't much better.
Momentum shifted and James’ pride festered. "Focus. They’re desperate and we can’t get cocky. Stick to the plays." He said to his teammates in a huddle before they split out into formation. Sirius jogged into position beside him.
"We got this Prongs.”
James just nodded.
The ball snapped and became a first down. Another followed shortly after, continuously building their drive down the field. With swelling optimism, James could feel the defence beginning to crack, he knew that with one more good drive it would all be over. They crossed the thirty in the next down. Now, the Blues sat comfortably in scoring range.
James crouched behind centre again, read the defence and clocked two high safeties, and several linebackers creeping forwards. The ball snapped. The pocket held for half a second but before he could process his next decision it collapsed and a defender burst through untouched.
Sirius was covered, Fenwick doubled, nobody was open. Then somebody hit him. Hard.
All James could process was a flash of colour, a helmet. And an overwhelming bright hot white pain.
The impact exploded through his shoulder and ribs and his feet disappeared from underneath him.
The sky spun, the ground came up to meet him and then nothing.
*******
The ringing came to him first. The ringing and the brightness. Then the crowd, in murmurs of concern and hushed fear. Shouting. That belonged to Sirius. it sounded a little way off. Moody was suddenly at his side, saying his name.
“Potter. Can you hear me?” he sounded freaked out.
James was fine. Right? He’d just get up. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body wouldn’t obey him. What was worse was that his eyes wouldn’t open much, beyond allowing a thin strip of light to blind him. that made his vision swim and his head sear with blinding pain. He heard himself moan in an unnatural, guttural cry.
Someone took his hand. “Cap. Focus on my voice. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, James.” An unfamiliar voice said. A medic maybe?
James couldn’t stop squinting against the light and the ringing just got louder and louder, but he managed to tighten his grip around the fingers. Then the brightness whitened and he lost consciousness again.
The next time he woke he was confused. But he could feel grass prickling his forearms, his back where his shirt has shucked up. The pain radiating around his body. He tried to open his eyes. The light hurt. The sun sank low and bright in the winter sky.
“Where.” He started, words slurring and mushy around the edges. “Someone tell…” he trailed off as nausea overwhelmed his senses.
“Your parents are on their way, kid.” Moody said, a hand tentatively on his shoulder. “You’re good. You’re good kid.”
But James shook his head ever so slightly and made a grumble of disagreement.
“No,” he slurred. “Reggie” and then he winced.
He was suddenly very cold. The brightness continued to sting.
“Tell him I’m fine, I’m okay. He’ll worry… tell him...”
But the words didn’t come out nearly as clearly as he thought they had.
“Your dad is coming. Stay with us Potter. Keep your eyes open kid.”
But with that, the darkness crept in, and James remembered nothing else.
*******
The first thing James became aware of was the headache. The second was the sound of his mother crying. He frowned because that in itself was absurd. Effie was nothing if not full of unbated optimism and marble like strength. He tried to move towards her, to comfort her but a sharp pulse of pain throbbed behind his eyes and ricochetted through his limbs and he groaned responsively.
"James?" His mother's voice cracked.
Slowly, he forced his eyes open and took in the white ceiling. That could only mean he was in hospital. Right. Fuck. He groaned again. His throat was dry and sore, his head pounding unbearably.
"He's awake." Lily’s voice, equally panicked.
James blinked a few times as he fought the bright lights. The room slowly came into focus. Effie was perched on the edge of his bed looking exhausted, mascara smudged beneath red eyes. One hand gripped his leg tightly, as though she was afraid he might disappear. On a chair on the opposite side of the bed, sat Lily, clutching his hand in both of hers. Across the room, Sirius leaned heavily against Remus, who had both arms wrapped around his waist and his chin on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius looked more furious than worried. His father stood by the door, grey and drawn. He had one fist clenched so tightly James could see the tension pulsing in his forearm. The other hand braced against the doorframe, fingers tapping anxiously.
Then Effie burst into tears. "Oh thank God."
"Mum." He tried to lift a hand to her, but everything sent sharp pains across his forehead.
"You stupid boy." she said fondly, with overwhelming relief, caressing his cheek gently.
"Nice to see you too." He mumbled, eyes half shut again, they hurt less that way.
"You frightened me half to death, James Fleamont Potter."
James winced and almost smirked. "Sorry."
Effie sat back and wiped her eyes, her chin dimpled as she tried to control her emotions. "How do you feel?"
James considered it, though his thoughts were muddled and slow. "Like I've been hit by a truck."
Sirius snorted. "You basically were."
James looked over at him, gaze dragging over him. Sirius was still in his under-armour, sweat slicked his hair back on his head. Then he noticed the state of Sirius’ knuckles. Interesting. He raised an eyebrow as best he could, though even that hurt.
"What happened?" he asked cautiously.
"You got concussed." Sirius said with a shake of his head. "Knocked unconscious. Out cold like a fucking corpse!"
“Sirius.” Remus warned.
Sirius continued. "You looked dead."
Remus immediately smacked the back of Sirius' head.
"Ouch!"
"What is wrong with you?" Remus hissed.
Sirius’ mouth gaped like a goldfish, an innocent look on his face. "What?! It looked like he was!"
James shut his eyes briefly and shifted but the movement made his stomach lurch and he groaned. Bad idea. Very bad idea. When he opened them again everyone was still staring at him, waiting apprehensively.
"What was the score?" James asked, words loose. "Did we win?"
Lily scoffed. "That's your main priority?"
He glanced at her and grinned innocently. “Yes?”
Sirius shrugged. "No idea." He interjected.
James blinked. "What do you mean no idea?"
"I mean I don't know." Sirius said slowly, as if that were a stupid question.
"How do you not know?" James said, trying to frown, regretting it and relaxing his features as best he could.
“Go on.” Remus said smugly, though with a very disappointed look on his face. “Tell him why.”
Sirius huffed. "Because I got ejected from the damn game."
James stared. "You what?"
Sirius lifted his chin. "Punched the linebacker who sacked you, didn’t I?"
"You punched him?" James clarified, the light getting easier to take with every minute. "You idiot."
"He hit my quarterback." Sirius said indignantly. "It was a dirty damn hit too. Punching him was the least I could do. And frankly, it was worth getting suspended."
"Fucking hell Padfoot. Suspended. For how many games?"
"Two.” Sirius grumbled.
James looked over to his father, who still hadn’t said a word. Monty looked grey and stressed, and scarily older than he had six hours ago.
“I’m okay pop.” James said reassuringly.
“Scared me kid.” Monty said gruffly.
“Sorry,” James said sincerely, but his dad just nodded, clearly trying to hold it together.
James took as deep a breath as he dared and looked over at Lily, because there was something else, something nobody else in the room knew but her. Regulus. Had he watched? Of course he'd watched, the game had been televised and the guy never missed one of James’ games. Which meant that he'd seen the hit. He’d seen James leave on a stretcher, unconscious. Fuck. James swallowed. The urge to ask was immediate and all consuming. Had anybody spoken to Regulus? Was he okay? Was he panicking? Had he tried calling?
"James?" Lily's voice. He looked up. "You disappeared for a second."
"Sorry." For a horrible moment he thought she might say something.
Instead, she simply squeezed his hand. "You need to rest."
James nodded because what else could he do? He couldn't ask. Not with everyone watching. So he lay back against the pillows and endured another round of fussing from his mother while the knot of anxiety in his stomach tightened. But somewhere between Montreal and Toronto, James knew that Regulus had almost certainly seen everything, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
********
A little after midnight they returned home, and his dad had all but carried him up to bed grumbling strict instructions for him to rest and sleep and to not under any circumstances try to come downstairs. He was on bedrest, no arguments, no negotiations. Naturally, James was dreading it but he didn’t have the strength to protest. Monty deposited him gently in bed, buffering his sides with pillows and performing the first of the home tests to check for progression of his concussion. James allowed it. He hated being fussed over. He was fine. He just needed to sleep it off.
Hours later, he awoke to the sound of his bedroom door opening. Blearily, he opened his eyes and for a second, he thought he was still dreaming because the figure in the doorway was an impossibility. A fever dream. Groaning, he tried to focus but his head felt stuffed with cotton, everything was slow and muggy and muffled. The room blurred at the edges whenever he tried to focus too quickly.
He'd been drifting in and out of sleep since they'd brought him home from the hospital, never fully awake for more than a few minutes at a time despite how tired he was after being poked, prodded and scanned for hours.
Still, the figure standing in the doorway looked familiar enough that his brain supplied the answer before his eyes properly caught up.
"Regulus?" he frowned in disbelief, voice stuffy, eyes squinting a little as if trying to focus on him, to prove to himself that he was real.
Regulus looked wrecked. His eyes were red. His cheeks were damp. He shut the door behind him and crossed the room almost at a run. James barely had time to smile before Regulus was beside him.
"What the heck?" James started to grin, his other hand coming up to brush Regulus’ cheek. His words were almost slurred, speech slow. "If this is a fucking fever dream, I’m gonna be pissed."
Regulus shook his head, the wobble in his voice was unmistakeable. "I got on the first plane. I had to see that you were okay."
Guilt pulled at his heart as he thought of the hours of uncertainty Regulus had suffered, the radio silence he’d been forced to endure for the duration of his flight. He wished he’d had time to ask Lily to call him, considering he wasn’t allowed to look at his own phone due to his concussion. James' hand settled at the back of Regulus’ neck, and he pulled him towards him, into a kiss. Regulus melted, kissing him back wetly before pulling away.
"I’m so glad you’re here." James sighed groggily, foreheads resting together.
"You scared me so fucking bad." Regulus managed to get out, choking over his words. "You weren’t moving, Jamie. You were on the ground, and you weren’t moving."
Guilt hit him harder as he felt Regulus tremble in his arms. "I’m sorry," James whispered, kissing him again apologetically, desperately, heart lurching because Regulus was here. He was here. Fuck he was here. What about his father? Concern twisted his gut as he began to panic for what Regulus might have sacrificed to be here, but his thoughts were interrupted.
"I wish I was mad at you, I want to be really fucking mad at you." Regulus almost laughed but it was clearly poorly masked anxiety, then returned the kiss. "But..." their eyes met, James’ pupils were wide, shaken by the concussion. "Fuck you scared me."
"I don’t really remember it." James admitted, his movements were slow and clumsy. "I remember half time, resetting for the third quarter… then I woke up in the hospital."
"I thought…" but Regulus didn't finish.
He didn't need to because James knew exactly what he'd thought. The sob that left Regulus' chest nearly broke him. His boyfriend folded forward and buried his face in James' lap.
"Baby." James lifted his chin. "I’m okay. It’s just a bad concussion. I blacked out for a while but that’s it. I’ll be playing again in a week or two. My CT scan at the hospital was clear."
Well… That was probably optimistic. Everyone kept telling him so, but he was too stubborn to admit it. Even if he knew that six weeks sounded much more realistic for a concussion this severe he didn’t dare actually admit that. He couldn’t afford to be out for that long, not with the draft looming, the scouts prowling around every training facility. He had to play.
Regulus nodded as tears streaked his cheeks. He tried to smile back, chuckling softly, but wincing pitifully. A second later Regulus climbed into bed beside him and kissed him again, hard. James forgot about the concussion entirely, at least until Regulus pulled away. He watched him, feeling the loss, a question in his eyes, willing him back, to kiss him, to touch him. James looked at his mouth longingly and leant in again, hand moving to Regulus’ crotch.
Regulus just rolled his eyes. "Oh stop. As if we’re going to have sex when an hour ago you were getting your head scanned for internal bleeding."
James’ lips found Regulus’ neck and he whined, words still slurring. "Baby, I’m fine. I want you. I missed you."
"James Potter." Regulus laughed, pushing him gently back onto his pillows. "Control yourself."
With a huff, he conceded. "Who let you in anyway?" James asked curiously, eyes still devouring him.
Regulus scrunched up his nose. "Your mum. I think she knows."
James smirked. Of course she knew, his mother noticed everything. "Oh boy…" He chuckled. "Can’t wait for that interview,"
Regulus’ face dropped then and he looked suddenly rather frightened. "Will your parents be okay? With us?"
James stared at him dotingly. Even now Regulus was worrying about whether he'd overstepped. As if he hadn’t just flown to another city because James had been hurt and that wasn't the most important thing in the world. He was here. He’d dropped everything to be here. Regardless of whatever horrible consequences awaited him in Montreal.
Then, he clocked Regulus begin to freak out. "I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come to your house, I just assumed because of the lake, and, but I didn’t, I’m sorry. God this was so out of line. Fuck. Should I go?" He got up. "I should go,"
James immediately grabbed his hand. "Woah, woah. Reggie." He soothed, and guided him back for a chaste kiss. "Don’t go. I’m so happy you’re here, believe me. If I knew that all it would take was a hefty concussion to get you into my childhood bedroom, then I’d have done it years ago."
"Shut up." Regulus scoffed, relaxing back onto the pillows, though his face was still creased with anxiety.
James smiled warmly at him. He was truly so beautiful. "My parents will just have a million questions for me. They both only want me to be happy, and they adore you, so they’ll be over the moon."
"Really?" Regulus asked with a grimace.
James hummed in agreement and traced a thumb over Regulus’ bottom lip. "Really." He echoed.
A soft knock at the door startled them. James felt Regulus practically launch himself to the opposite side of the bed. Despite the headache threatening to split his skull, James nearly laughed. He reached across and squeezed Regulus' hand.
"Yeah." James called, hoarsely.
The door clicked open and Effie poked her head inside. "All okay? Doctor’s orders, I have to check on you every hour."
"I’m good." James nodded, much happier than he had been a few hours ago.
She came into the room and placed her hands casually on her hips, studying him militantly. "No dizziness? Nausea?"
"No, I’m all good." James said, looking over at Regulus with delayed movements.
"Pinch your fingers together."
He did, groggily.
"Finger to your nose."
Again, James obeyed and almost missed, but didn’t.
Effie raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Anything feel numb?"
"No." he confirmed. "I just feel like drunk or dull I don’t know."
"Good. If that changes, you tell me, or I suppose Regulus, seeing as he will be with you for the foreseeable. You tell him if you feel worse. Got it?"
"Yes Ma’am." James nodded.
Effie sighed and folded her arms with one eyebrow raised in interrogation. "Now, this." He finger flickered between them. "I’m intrigued about, but more importantly why am I only finding out now James Fleamont Potter?"
James smiled, then winced in pain, huffing a short laugh. "Mum, you know Regulus," he said sarcastically, as if introducing them for the first time. "He’s my boyfriend."
The smile on his mother's face was immediate. Effie beamed and played along, holding out her hand to Regulus. "It is so nice to meet you honey. You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish."
James felt tension ease from his shoulders. Then she placed the back of her hand on James’ forehead and looked closely at his pupils.
"Hourly checks please Regulus. Dizziness, nausea, motor function." She listed on her fingers. "And don’t stand for any of his nonsense." Then she looked directly at her son. "You are not invincible."
“I beg to differ.” James said arrogantly.
"Understood." Regulus said quietly.
James squeezed Regulus' foot beneath the blankets.
"Well. I shall leave you to it. There is food in the kitchen, help yourself to anything. Not you James. You stay there.” She narrowed her eyes at James kindly and moved towards the door. "Goodnight."
"Night mum." James said softly as the door clicked closed. Then he looked at Regulus. "See? They love you."
By the time three in the morning rolled around, James was struggling to keep his eyes open. Regulus curled into his side. James wrapped an arm around him automatically. Regulus was here and that was enough.
The alarm dragged him awake an hour later.
"Jamie."
James groaned.
"Wake up."
"Hey." James grumbled, opening his eyes.
Regulus handed him water which James drank obediently. "Do you feel dizzy?"
He shook his head.
"Nauseous?"
"No, baby. I’m good." He smiled, eyes tracking him, drinking in his perfect features.
Regulus shifted, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees, studying him. "Well, we have to stay awake for ten minutes, and you have to talk to me to prove you’re coherent."
James watched him fuss and couldn't stop smiling. "Are you cold?" he asked gently.
"No." Regulus pouted.
James smirked. Liar. He thought fondly. "Get a hoodie out of my closet."
He watched Regulus climb carefully out of the bed and pad noiselessly across the room to the closet and peek inside, as if he were robbing a bank. Regulus returned wearing one of his Blues hoodies. The sight made James absurdly happy. He couldn’t believe that Regulus was here. In his childhood bedroom, wearing his number, lying in his bed, kissing him. God he was so damn pissed that he was concussed for this momentous event. He wanted him. Needed him.
"Better?" James grinned soppily, reaching out and lightly tracing the plains of his face, his jawline, his lips.
Regulus pulled the sleeves over his hands and bunched them in his fists. The material swamped him. "You don’t need this for school, right? I can keep it?"
James couldn’t take his eyes off him. "Baby, you keep whatever you want."
Then he kissed him.