Chapter Text
NORWICH. OCTOBER, 1979
Regulus shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth on the bus, with his tongue still hurting from drinking his coffee without waiting for it to cool down, which is understandable because he’s late, and he probably won’t be in school in time for his first period. That’s fine, really, the problem is just that he has a test in his second period which he can’t miss.
His mother assured him that he’d be on time for the test, kissed his head and slightly pushed him towards the door, saying: finish the sandwich on the way there, this one won’t burn your white cheeks, imitating some sort of american-southern accent on her last words, only to make him laugh. The thought makes him smile, and he has to fight against it to keep his mouth shut as he chews, and also to not look crazy, smiling to himself on the bus.
He’s late for class, so the bus is not as full as it usually is, and stepping out of it is easy. Regulus walks into the school, praying that no one talks to him, as it usually happens. He looks at the wall clock on the hallway as he walks, and finds out his test starts in fifteen minutes. Maybe he could have a little time to revise before the test? He knows he will go just fine, but revising never killed anyone. The consideration leaves his mind when an arm is thrown over his shoulder, and a familiar smell finds his nose, as well as the familiar voice finding his ears.
“Morning, Reggie,” Mulciber says, and Regulus pushes the other boy’s arm away from his shoulder. “I didn’t see you coming for your first period.”
“Don’t call me that,” he rolls his eyes, “and I overslept this morning. I just got here.”
Mulciber lets out a quiet laugh. “Again?”
Regulus murmurs a curse and keeps walking, and the other boy quiets himself beside him. A part of him is mad at his mother for not waking him up, as she usually does when he oversleeps — something that has been happening quite a lot lately, as Mulciber mentioned —, but he remembers her eyes when he left his room with the buttons of his trousers still open and rushing to the bathroom to brush his teeth. She said she thought he had already left before she was up. She apologized a lot, but he only answered with ‘s fine mama, muffled by the mug he brought up to his mouth, then burning his tongue with the streaming hot coffee.
He knows she didn’t do it on purpose, but a part of him can’t help being mad. She’s a nice mother, really, not the best one in the world, but the only one he has. There are periods of time, usually later in the year, every year, when she distances herself from him. She locks herself in her room for hours and, no matter how much Regulus calls for her, she doesn’t come out. When she finally does, she looks restless and on the bridge of a collapse, to be fair. He asks her what’s going on, he used to beg her to tell him when he was younger, but she just shakes her head and runs a hand through his hair.
He’s not very much allowed to leave the house when it’s late, but when his mother is distant, he finds a way to sneak out for a few hours with his friends. That leaves a pit of guilt in his chest, knowing that something is wrong with his mama and, not only not being able to help her, but also taking advantage of that.
Other boys have gotten to them, his other friends, Avery and Severus, who are listening to Mulciber rant about how he’s probably going to fail chemistry if that teacher doesn’t get the stick out of her ass and starts teaching properly. Their voices turn into an echo in Regulus’ ears at some point, because Mulciber’s problem could easily be solved if he could grab a book on his own. Or learned how to read properly.
-
Sometimes Regulus is pretty sure he hates Mulciber’s guts. He’s obnoxious, loud and he can be so dumb. The mere smell of him feels off with Regulus, like they shouldn’t be near each other or something. Mulciber is a tall guy, he’s heard people even calling him handsome, and they'd add: if only weren’t for his crooked teeth that come from fights, because he obviously needs the attention. Honestly, he doesn’t disagree with what people say about his looks, but that boy still pisses him off.
The physics test was shit, as he expected. Regulus obviously knew all the answers, but it was nerve-wrecking anyhow. Mulciber probably handed it blank, because he only shrugged when Regulus asked him about the third question. They were the first two to hand the test and, as they left, Mulciber whispered: I'm glad it’s just you and me now and Regulus looked up at him, smirking, because he knew what he was on about.
Regulus might hate Mulciber, and the way his shirts come covered in wrinkles somedays, how loud he talked, and how he couldn’t write an essay on his own not even if his life depended on it. But something he could do? That boy could kiss. He might hate Mulciber, but he can’t help but enjoy how hot his lips feel on his, how his hand pressed him by the hips against the wall in the bathroom stall, and how fucking silent he is when they kiss.
Regulus’ hands fly to Mulciber’s cheeks, pulling him closer than he already is, deepening the kiss. The other boy hums, and he feels the urge to roll his eyes. Regulus catches his bottom lip with his teeth, sucking at it and giving a little bite. Mulciber’s breath hitches, and he does it again, harder. They’re close to each other, too close so it’s infuriating for Regulus, but he doesn’t break away. Instead, Regulus squeezes his waist, pulls him closer, bites him again and again, making a trail on his cheeks with his lips and teeth, down to his neck.
He gives good attention to his neck, sucking, liking and kissing. Mulciber sounds like he’s enjoying, at the same time he’s trying his best to keep himself quiet, which Regulus is grateful for. Regulus takes a fat bite onto his skin, and he feels like it was worth the wait and the bearing. At first, he hears a low moan followed by a hum from Mulciber but, as his teeth feel about to sink into the hot skin, the other boy pulls his hair, harder than the other times, yanking him back.
Their eyes meet, and Regulus’ mind feels miles away from his body. The boy in front of him has his hair just as messy as his own must be, red-ish lips and marks on his neck. He has a smug smile on his lips, which Regulus hates more than anything else Mulciber has ever done.
“Looks like you’re trying to eat me, baby,” he whispers, and that makes him want to throw up. He never gave Mulciber permission to use pet names, and he’s already told him that, but he doesn’t seem to understand.
Regulus hums in response, shooting a quick glance at Mulciber as he makes his way back to his neck, licking where the bite mark lies to make it even. Regulus leads Mulciber’s hand to where he’d like better, moving his hips just slightly, to tell the other boy all he needs to do. He fidgets on Regulus’ belt buckle, and he forgets about the boy’s neck to look at him in the eye again. He gives him his best smile and murmurs the first encouraging words that come up on his mind before slowly pushing Mulciber down by the shoulders, until he hears the low thud of his knees touching the ground. Then, he’s never been quieter.
-
“My parents are away for the whole week,” Mulciber starts, grinning from ear to ear, then he looks at Regulus, still smiling, “I was thinking about sleeping over at my place.” He bumps Regulus' foot with his own. “Wanna come?”
Regulus looks around at the two other boys. Avery, just like Mulciber, seems like he’s waiting for Regulus’ answer, and Severus seems pretty much uninterested in if Regulus will go or not. October just started, and his mother is just fine, no drifting apart, no locking herself in rooms— she’s fine. And he knows his mother, she always raised him close to her chest, to a distance she could see him. Even now that he’s eighteen years old, everyday after school, the first thing she does when he steps into their house is cup his cheeks and ask about this day. She would never let him sleep at someone’s house, he never even has been in a sleepover. Ever.
He looks back at Mulciber, who has fixed his hair and his lips are not as red as before, now faded to a soft pink, but still has red and purple marks on his neck, half-covered by a sweatshirt. Their friends don’t know about this thing Regulus and Mulciber do — which Regulus can’t even name —, so when they met with the boys at the hall together and the boys asked where they went and what happened, Mulciber told them that he was with some girl he can’t remember the name and Regulus was looking out for him, checking if anyone was around or whatever, which would be stupid and Regulus would never fucking do that if it was true.
He only notices now that Mulciber is smirking senselessly, and Regulus frowns wondering the reason. Then he realizes that Mulciber said the words Wanna come? straight at Regulus, and that boy has zero maturity. Regulus rolls his eyes, and Mulciber snorts when he notices that Regulus has noticed.
He looks back at his… hook-up? and says: “My mother would never let me go. You know that.”
“Then sneak out,” he simply says, as if it was simple. “Wait until she goes to sleep and sneak out from the window.”
Regulus can't believe the words he's hearing coming out from that mouth. That mouth was only worth for pleasure, really.
Even worse, he can't believe the words that come out from his own mouth:
“Fine. Wait for me there.”
-
His mother has his same dark, beautiful hair, his same pale skin, and she hums as she does something that takes concentration to do. She’s unmolding chocolate cupcakes he had forgotten she had promised to make tonight. Regulus watches her biting down on her lip, flicking her head to take a strand of hair away from her face, and listening to the soft sound ffrom her throat filling the kitchen. He can’t recognize the song, but the sound alone reminds him of when she sang him to sleep, and how she sometimes still does, when he’s half-asleep on the couch.
He finishes the last bit of food on his plate and walks to the sink with it in his hands, washing it, barely drawing his eyes away from his mother. She apologized for not having anything to put on top of the cupcakes, like glazing, but Regulus just nodded, saying: it’s gonna be perfect either way. He mindlessly dries his hands and helps his mother out with a strand of hair that she couldn’t tear away from her face, no matter how much she flicked her head. He gently tugs it behind her ear, and she can finally unmold the last one of the cupcakes.
She grabs one of the cupcakes and hands him. “This one’s not hot,” she says. Regulus takes a bite, and the flavour explodes in his mouth, making him instantly hum in appreciation, nodding to his mum. He chews, feeling the sensations of his mother’s cooking exactly how he thought it would be, but better. Suddenly, this is all he will ever need.
The smile she has on her face turns into a frown, “Don’t you have homework?”
Regulus groans with his mouth half full, “I thought we were having a nice time, mama,” he answers before swallowing.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Reggie,” she hits his arm with a dishcloth, and Regulus grabs his arm, only pretending it hurt more than it actually did, slightly looking away from her to try to hide his smile, even though he knew she could hear it in his voice.
“I am being abused in this house—,” he whines.
His mother rolls her eyes, chuckling, “Okay, enough.”
“—I need salvation from this place—”
“Stop. That,” the dishcloth hits his arm two more times, and she’s laughing now. Regulus stops his whining to smile along with his mother. She now has wrinkles on her eyes and smile lines and, even though she has Regulus’ same pale skin, she looks more healthy than ever.
“’m gonna do the homework,” Regulus wraps one arm around her and squeezes her side against him, kissing her hair at the top of her head, now that he is slightly taller than her. He walks to his room, finishing that cupcake in his hand as he makes his way there.
-
It’s been twenty minutes-three since he’s heard his mother’s bedroom door closing, and he remembers how she always locks her door before going to sleep. He knows she keeps the fan as far away from her bed as she can, because the noise freaks her out. He knows she sometimes draws circles behind her hand with the tip of her fingers before drifting off and closing her eyes to sleep. Regulus remembers fondly of the times she does it on his hand, when they’re watching TV or listening to the radio or when they’re just laying on the couch together.
Regulus knows his mama like the palm of his hand, just like she knows him like they're the same person. He knows what she's thinking only by looking at her face, and he knows what she's gonna say almost every single time. But she doesn't need to know this. She doesn't need to know how he unlocks the window in his room in complete silence.
He slides the window open, tensing his shoulders when it does a cracking noise. He looks back, trying to hear any strange activity from his mother's bedroom, but nothing happens. Regulus throws one leg outside, securing his foot on the wall, then the second one. He feels his heart beating so strong that his head shakes. His whole body is shaking, actually. He breathes in and out slowly, but it doesn't work as well as he wanted it to work. He holds himself there for a few seconds, only long enough to use one of his shaking hands to close the window again, just as slowly as he opened. Then he jumps.
The grass muffles his feet landing on the ground. He looks around for anyone on the street, but it’s very late, and the sidewalks look abandoned. Regulus starts walking further away from his house on rushed steps, remembering this morning when he also left his house on rushed steps, but that time the sun still shined in the sky.
For a second, when the cold breeze hits his face and the hairs on his arm stand, Regulus misses the sun. His mother took him to the littoral once, just once when he was seven or eight. He remembers seeing her thinking and rethinking about going, even though he wasn't so sure why. It would be fun and they would be happy together, why is there a doubt? When she mentioned the trip for the first time, she told him she wasn't sure if they would really go. Regulus recalls vividly how well he behaved— he woke up on time for school without complaining, he did his chores as best as he could with his little limbs, he smiled more at his mama. All that so his mother would agree to the trip.
Now that he's older he understands that maybe the problem was money, not Regulus’ behavior. But he remembers how happy he was when they did go to the beach, firmly believing that he was good enough for his mama to take him for a trip. The sun there felt stronger, and he wonders if his mother would ever take him there again. Regulus looks back at his house one last time, now far away, before turning around a corner and losing his home from sight. He would be back before the sun could hit his mother's window. With that thought, he looks away.
-
A hot hello kiss is pressed on his lips. He finds himself reciprocating it, but breaking apart after a second. Regulus looks behind Mulciber, trying to see Severus and Avery, but they're nowhere to be seen.
“The boys are upstairs, baby,” Mulciber says. Although, no one asked. Regulus has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the pet name again.
Regulus hums as an answer, and Mulciber steps to the side, giving him a way to walk into the house. He's never been there before, and the new environment gives him chills. The living room is the first he sees, with picture frames of probably Mulciber's parents, but he can't see any pictures of Mulciber.
“I was wondering if we could have some time for ourselves,” the other boy leans in and whispers to him. Regulus raises an eyebrow at him.
He’s waiting for his mother to storm into the house through the door he just walked in and dragged him back home. He’s waiting for her to tell him she saw him sneaking out because he was too loud. He waits for him to be grounded and locked home for the rest of his life. Maybe she’d beat the hell out of him as well, but she never really did that. Mulciber says that his father used to punish him with that kind of thing, but his mother never did so.
Maybe Regulus’ father would’ve done that to him, but Regulus would never know, because he’s never met his father. Mama said he passed away in an accident, and never really got to meet him. They don’t have pictures of him at home. Actually, they barely have pictures in frames at all. Only one from what probably was Regulus’ first day ever of school, that he’s standing by his little backpack, smiling with his head tilted to the side, another one from that trip to the beach, in which his mother has her arms wrapped around him, and he’s not even looking at the camera, too busy with his hands covered in sand, mouth half-open, surely saying something when the picture was taken. There are probably another four other pictures in the frames at home, but Regulus’ favorite isn’t one of them.
His favorite one is not even on a frame. That one is in his mother’s wardrobe. He found the picture there one time when she asked him to grab something for her somewhere around four years ago. It’s of him as a kid, with his hair slightly bigger, sticking to his forehead. But there are two things about the picture: 1) even though it’s Regulus there, it seems way older. Maybe mama used a different camera? Or it was badly printed? 2) that picture is not just in his mother’s wardrobe, it’s hidden there, under some piles of clothes. But why? It’s a nice photo, he looks cute in it, but mama never showed him that, and he knows she has more pictures of him as a little kid, but they don’t have enough frames for them, so she just shows him. But she never did that with that one.
His mother, in fact, doesn't storm into the house as he was expecting, so Regulus shakes his head at Mulciber, looking away from the frames and coming back to his thoughts. “They’ll ask about it and there isn’t a plausible excuse for that,” Regulus says, stopping Mulciber’s hand from falling heavy on his waist. “Let's just go upstairs.”
-
Avery and Severus sound like they’re in a very deep conversation about a book Regulus didn’t catch the name of, but he’s secretly interested in it as he listens to their conversation without letting them know that. He likes the three boys in the room with him, or else he wouldn’t be hanging out with them. Regulus heard people saying that Avery only follows Mulciber around, but that’s just not true. Avery was mildly spoiled, raised by his father and grandmother, because his parents divorced and his mother left or something. He likes spring because his grandmother has a garden with a crazy variety of flowers that bloom in that season, and it’s great that the garden is so full of colour by then. His father is a nice guy that Regulus has only talked to a few times, when he showed up at the school to talk to teachers about Avery’s behavior, but he only waved at him and said hi, he just says he’s nice because he once said he accidentally saw Regulus’ grades in the teacher’s desk and complimented him, and he’s a redhead. He hasn’t met many redheads in his life, really, but all the few he’s met were nice. Maybe he would find Avery nicer if he had red hair, or if he talked a little bit less.
Severus almost beats him academically, and Regulus has a silent competition with him in his grades, but he’s nice. Regulus knows very little about his family. He only knows he was raised only by his mother, just like Regulus. But he knows Severus is obsessed with chemistry, and wants to follow that path. He’s known Avery since kindergarten, while Regulus and Mulciber only got to meet them in seventh grade. Severus gives him mother lilies, and he knows that because he heard him asking Avery if they were growing alright in his garden.
Mulciber is Mulciber. Regulus is not sure if he’s already grown to be bored of him or if he just is boring. His parents have been married since the prehistoric era and Mulciber was somewhat just as spoiled as Avery. But Avery is just annoying sometimes, and Mulciber is annoying and boring all the time. That’s what brings Regulus to overhear Avery and Severus’ conversation instead of hearing whatever he’s saying.
Before Regulus can’t stop it, Mulciber touches his shoulder and his words find his ears. “Are you listening to me?” Regulus panics for a second, looking around and scanning his face.
“Kind of,” he whispers, holding his own fingers. If only he could kiss Mulciber again, like that he wouldn’t have to worry about talking to him. But he can’t, so he just licks and bites his lips.
“I asked if you were going to stay the whole night,” Mulciber repeats himself, coming slightly closer and talking in a little bit more of a whisper.
Regulus shakes his head, “No. I have to be back by six in the morning, or else my mum will know I’m gone,” he answers. Mulciber’s eyebrows relax, but he doesn’t look relaxed, as he chews his lips. He scans Regulus with his eyes for a second.
“You only talk about your mother,” Mulciber says, shifting closer, making their shoulders brush against each other. “What about your father? You never said a word 'bout him.” Regulus kind of expected this question from one of his friends, and it obviously had to come from Mulciber. He doesn’t blame him, really, Regulus also wants to know about his father.
“I don’t know much about him,” Regulus says, his voice coming out in a mere whisper. “My mother never talks about him. I just know he died in an accident a little while before I was born.”
Mulciber nods, glancing at Regulus one last time before looking behind him, where the other two boys are, still talking, oblivious of Regulus and Mulciber’s conversation. “‘m sorry ‘bout that,” he whispers, and Regulus can feel his hot breath on his cheek. Mulciber’s voice sounded small, and Regulus can believe he means what he’s saying.
For a second, when Mulciber is quiet, Regulus finds a place of comfort in the room, even though he’s been laying on the floor the whole time. His neck relaxes, and he lets his head fall onto the other boy’s shoulders, feeling the soft fabric of the jumper that accommodates him. The voices in the background are just noises, and Regulus feels a warmth laying on his hand and squeezing. His eyes turn heavy but he forces them open, remembering he can’t let himself sleep and lose the time of going home.
Regulus inhales deeply, with the tip of his nose touching Mulciber’s shoulder. Holding his hand tighter, he looks up at Mulciber, bringing the other boy’s hand to his mouth, landing his lip— teeth into it?