New instalment of the "Life James Wanted" one shot series inspired by hoodies
Regulus is having a hard time.
James knows that. He sees it in the way Regulus's shoulders have been inching closer and closer to his ears lately. In the way his voice has gotten quieter and his words sparing.
Even when they're home at the same time, which is rare during the Quidditch season, Regulus spends most of it shut up in their bedroom.
They've been through this before. James understands. He does. But he still misses him. Aches for him. Is desperate to hear Regulus laugh. To feel him come up behind him in the kitchen and wrap his arms around his waist, burying his face between James's shoulder blades. He even misses Regulus yelling at him about leaving his shoes in the front hall.
Regulus has been through a lot in his life. And most of the time he can cope with it. But every once and a while he gets overwhelmed. And he needs to shut down, and hide. He still manages to go to practice. Still manages to play excellent Quidditch when he needs to. But that takes just about everything he has in him. And when he comes home he's small and raw and bone tired.
So James tries not to ask for too much. Tries not to hover. Tries to make sure that Regulus knows it's okay. That he'll wait for him. He'll always wait for him.
"Reg?" James calls out as he closes the front door of their flat. It's late in the afternoon, the sun sneaking through the windows, making patterns on the hardwood floors. The cats are on him immediately, running through his legs and meowing incessantly.
"Yeah, yeah, alright, I'll feed you you little monsters," he mutters under his breath, scratching both of them behind the ears before heading for the kitchen.
None of the lights are on, but the bedroom door is closed and James can just feel it. The tug in his chest that lets him know Reg is around. James has always thought of them as planets, caught in each others pull, inevitably stuck orbiting around on another.
Once the cats are fed he moves cautiously towards the bedroom, hand hovering in front of the door for a good few minutes before he finally makes himself knock.
There's a pause.
And then, faint and distant, he hears: "Yeah?"
It takes everything in him not to just burst through the door.
"Do you want to be alone?" he makes himself ask.
Another pause.
"No."
James feels himself actually sag with relief as he reaches for the doorknob. The bedroom is dark, the lights off and the blinds closed. The blankets on the bed have been left in a pile but he doesn't see Regulus anywhere.
"Reg?" James asks again.
"I'm here," he sounds exhausted, James's eyes following his voice across the room.
"Are you..." James says slowly. "Are you in the wardrobe?"
He thinks he hears Regulus sigh. "Yes."
"Okay..."
Regulus laughs dryly. "Is it?"
"Sure," James runs a hand through his hair, not exactly sure what this means. "Can I...can I come in?"
There's a small scoff and then. "I don't know if you can fit Quidditch lad."
That makes James smile a little, "I'm sure I'll manage."
He opens the door slowly, finding Regulus on the floor, knees pulled into his chest and one of James's jumpers swallowing him up. He's even pulled the hood over his head, tiny tuffs of black curly hair peeking out the sides.
James just stares at him for a moment, a little overwhelmed by how...sweet he looks. An adjective that Regulus would absolutely not appreciate.
"I thought you hated my hoodies?" he says finally. "I thought they were - what did you say? Uncouth? Plebeian? It was some posh insult."
Regulus rolls his eyes. "Oh please, you're at least as posh as I am."
James grins. "No one is as posh as you are."
Regulus grumbles something under his breath but doesn't try to argue the point.
"So what's with the change of heart then? Is this gonna be your new style?"
That earns James a glare. "This," Regulus pinches the fabric away from his chest, "is not a style. And it's temporary, I promise you. I barely even want to let the cats see me in it."
James laughs. "Probably a good call. They'd lose all respect for you."
"Oh I know."
James waits then, waits for Regulus to say whatever it is he needs to, or to not say anything. He's willing to let the conversation drop if that's what Regulus needs too.
Eventually, the younger boy sighs. "I was...having...trouble."
"Trouble?"
Regulus grimaces. "Are you really going to make me say it?"
"I'm not going to make you do anything Reg," and he means it.
Regulus rubs at his face which is slightly adorable since his hands are hidden in the sleeves of James's hoodie, but he once again refrains from commenting.
"I was having a panic attack," he manages finally. James's heart lurches in his chest but he makes himself stay still, makes himself listen. "And you were still at practice but I just...I needed something to ground me. I needed something to keep me from floating away," he sighs again. "I just wanted you to hold me," he says quietly.
James brings his hand up, pressing down on his sternum, the ache in his chest so real he worries for a moment that he might be having actual heart problems.
"Oh," he manages.
"Yeah, so," Regulus says, clearly eager to move on. He holds up his arms, flapping the too long sleeves. "This was the closest thing I could think of."
"Oh."
Regulus wrinkles his nose. "Can you stop saying that?"
James huffs. "I don't know. Can I hold you now?"
Regulus blinks up at him. "Yeah," he starts to move but James motions for him to stay where he is, squeezing himself between the wall and Regulus so that Regulus can sit between his legs, resting back against his chest. The minute he gets his arms around him, he feels Regulus relax.
James can't help himself, he nuzzles at Regulus's neck before kissing the top of his hood. "You can borrow my jumpers anytime," he says.
"How generous of you."
James laughs. "What can I say, I'm a giver," and then, bringing his mouth closer to Regulus's ear. "Plus, I like seeing you in my clothes."
It's Regulus's turn to laugh now, though it's a slightly more restrained sound. "You're ridiculous."
"You've mentioned that."
A moment passes where James simply luxuriates in the feeling of having Regulus back in his arms again, before Regulus speaks:
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I know I've been...difficult, lately."
James only squeezes him tighter. "I just want you to be okay," he says. "How you get there doesn't matter. Just tell me what I can do."
He thinks he catches just the hint of Regulus's smile in his profile.
"You're doing it."
