lost boy

"there are two ways to get enough. one is to accumulate more and more. the other is to desire less."

[ofbrokenbonesx]

hotel rooms & new tattoos  ➸ micah & regulus

[ofbrokenbonesx]

There was so much about that moment in time - Regulus hovering over Micah, hands to skin and skin to hands - that he wanted to remember, but also so much that he still had to get used to. He felt like he needed permission - like it was forbidden in a way that he was just beginning to unlearn. Had he always wanted to touch Micah like this - gentle, caring, loving? Maybe; maybe he’d always loved and wanted Micah in this way – maybe he’d never let himself think anything more about him than friendship. But what Regulus did know was that Micah was so bright that he was blinded to his own light, and Regulus wanted to drown himself in it. And the thought that maybe Micah wanted out – wanted to just disappear - was more than Regulus could have ever grappled with. There were times that Micah was unhappy with his lot, but to want a permanent out… Regulus was relieved when Micah kissed their fingers, denying the tattoos’s interpretation. “I prefer that,” Regulus said, trying to smile as his heart slowed its frantic pace. “Lying and lucky, the Micah Bones story.” It was still breathtakingly new when Micah pulled him close and kissed him, each of them taking their time with it, and now that Regulus knew they couldn’t be interrupted, he allowed himself to fall into it, hoping that Micah fell that same swoop in his stomach whenever they touched.

“Someone’s gotta look out for you,” Regulus said gently, looking down at the boy beneath him. “Make sure you don’t go off the deep end and do something drastic like dye your hair black and pierce your nipple.” Though, Regulus realised, he probably wouldn’t put that last part past Micah. Sitting up a little more, Regulus’ eyes danced across Micah’s skin, looking for any tattoos he’d missed. There was the one on Micah’s back, but he’d seen it a fair bit - the moon’s cycle, straight down his spine. Just when Regulus was about to give up and ask if there were any more, his eyes landed on a few lines and dots on the inside of Micah’s bicep. Frowning, Regulus’ fingers slipped from Micah’s and to his skin, turning the boy’s arm outward to look at it – it was a constellation, that much was certain, given the dots and lines; nothing was that abstract except the stars. Regulus had spent a lot of time looking at the sky - and, in particular, this constellation - that he knew it immediately; knew it personally. “Leo,” he whispered, frown deepening as he tried to remember if he’d ever seen this on Micah, but he was sure he hadn’t – meaning that he must’ve got it recently. Regulus’ fingers pressed into Micah’s skin harder as he looked up at Micah, searching. “But… why?” he asked. The tattoo was as clear to Regulus as if Micah had scrawled his own name on his skin in black ink – Regulus was, for better or worse, the brightest star in the Leo constellation. Unless Micah knew someone Denebola or Zosma, the tattoo had really only one interpretation – and Regulus felt his heart squeeze tight, wondering if he’d misread the tattoo again, almost half-hoping that was the case. Because the alternative was – too much; too much for someone like Regulus.

“I would never dye my hair black,” he said, and even though his tone was affronted, the smile on his lips never left. “Never ever. Although,” he added as an afterthought, lips pursing curiously, “I have considered getting my nipples pierced before. I’ve heard that they increase-- um. Sensitivity.” It wasn’t news to him that he kind of enjoyed the pain that edged all bodily modifications, the way they increased awareness of certain parts of one’s body and drew all attention to one, central place, but admitting that to Regulus felt as though it was going against the very pact of them taking things slowly. He shifted a little under Regulus, cheeks tipped pink, his eyes darting away for a moment as he composed himself. Regulus’ touch grounded him, turning his bicep out to look at the tattoo there, and it took Micah a moment to realize exactly what the other boy was looking at. By the time he did, though, Regulus’ quiet whisper echoed between them, and any thought of tempering down the true meaning of the tattoo was gone. As scary as it was for him to admit, Regulus had so few people in his life who truly valued him, and Micah wasn’t about to rob him of knowing the extent of how much he was appreciated, even if the prospect of owning up to his feelings was more than terrifying.

“It’s you,” he said simply, honesty plain on every inch of his face. “For when we can’t be together so that-- so that I don’t miss you as much because you’re right here.” He wrapped his hand around Regulus’ wrist and guided it to the brightest star in the tattooed constellation, pressing both of their palms to the little dot. “I take what I love, and I put it on my body,” he murmured, eyes refusing to meet Regulus as he spoke. “And like. I guess, at one point or another, I realized that-- most of the things on my body can be traced back to you. In one way or another.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

small crease of annoyance presents itself upon otherwise smooth forehead. yet, she knew that she wouldn’t drag the truth out of micah, respecting both him and his privacy far too much to snoop. but there was curiosity resting in her mind, sapphire hues locking with his briefly and a question resting on her tongue ( a question that wouldn’t fall ). instead she scoots closer to the youngest bones, reaching over for yet another strawberry. ❝ Really nice? Fireworks & all? If you’re not going to tell me WHO I need more details on how it was, koala. ❞

there is a change in micah, she notices it in the way he bites into the toast and she only notices from having known him for ages past. her free hand soon placed upon his arm as she calls for his attention. ❝ ––– & only check in with Edgar if you want to, don’t feel like you HAVE to. I could ask Amos otherwise, or perhaps I should just ask Edgar himself, ❞ but even if she says it greta knows she won’t. having thought she had lost any right to ask such questions and demand answers. if it had been before she would have asked without any thought of consequence but nowadays the blonde was afraid to change the friendship they had managed to build. ❝ Thank you for offering, though, it means a lot. ❞ i know that it’s not easy for you to talk to him, she wants to add but she doesn’t. offering a smile to the boy she lifts to the skies instead.

He chewed thoughtfully on a strawberry more to buy himself time than anything else because he did want to tell Greta; not because he needed people to know but because he felt like he was finally on his way to being happy, to having all of the angry, bitter creases of his heart ironed out and to becoming the version of himself he was supposed to be, not this jaded, caustic thing that was too abrasive to ever deserve the touch of another. He wanted Greta to know that because he knew that she would care because he mattered to her. “I don’t think kissing anyone else would feel as good as kissing-- her.” He faltered on the pronoun change, but he hoped that Greta wouldn’t notice, and if she did, she wouldn’t pry. “It was like. The kind of kiss you only see in muggle films or read about in romance novels.”

As much as he loved Greta, as much as she meant to him, there were times when he wished she hadn’t found her way through all of his carefully constructed defenses. Sometimes, even the people he was allowed to feel vulnerable around made him feel small and irrevocably broken. As nice as it was to have someone understand, their kindness just turned into the cruelest mirror that reflected back unto him everything he didn’t want to see about himself. “I can talk to him,” he said, a little too defiantly. “It’s not a big deal, Greta. We can like. Be civil sometimes. Even if it’s annoying as fuck because he can be such a fucking prick--" He stopped himself, sucking in a deep breath before saying, "I’m not like-- that fragile.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“ This is true, ”

Sirius did not seem in the least bit insulted by the statement, head tilting to the side as he studied the younger male before him.

“ But I am curious as to what   led you to draw this conclusion   as this is, to my knowledge, our   very first social interaction beyond   a passing comment, here or there. ” He hadn’t shagged Amelia, nor anyone in Micah’s direct social circle. At least, not to his recollection. Nor had he pranked any of his friends.

Then quite suddenly it hit him, like a bucket of water to the face that turned his blood to ice. “ This is…about Reggie, isn’t it? ”

“You don’t get to call him that anymore,” Micah snapped before he could stop himself. Reggie implied closeness. It implied a bond -- but Sirius had destroyed that. He didn’t deserve to keep pretending that there was still something left.

“Y’know, he hasn’t even told me what happened? I’ve had to piece it together from other people and gossip and-- he was that affected that he couldn’t even talk to his best friend about it. So. Yeah. This is about him. Someone has to have his best interests at heart, and it’s certainly not you.”

[heartofbone-blog]

@ofbrokenbonesx

Talking with Micah was still new, but she was slowly getting used to it. The moment Amelia saw him after class in the hall, she took a moment to talk to him – she had a present for him, after all. Yet when she went to hug him, she paused, interpreting the look on her face as one that had been familiar to her before – when he’d gotten tattoos on his torso. It might hurt him to hug him, & it was something she’d always been conscious of before. Surprised that he hadn’t told her about it – he’d never been afraid to talk about tattoos with her, knowing she found them fascinating – she held back, unsure of her welcome. “You got new ink,” she said, a grin on her face nonetheless. Micah was always happier in the weeks after he saw Javid. “What was – no, I can ask later, maybe. I have something for you in my dormitory. Takes a bloody ridiculous amount of time to figure out how to get Muggle records through owl post, by the way. Though I’d assume you know all about it.” It was still two months out from Micah’s birthday, but she always tried to get him things the moment she thought of them, since often times he was sullen in his room at home on the day in question. There were years where he’d let her & Edgar in, & there were years where he did not. In any case, it was better to be safe than have him think she didn’t care. 

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“How’d you know?” Micah spluttered, although he couldn’t hide the grin on his face that rose because of her observation. Amelia had always been good about picking up on the little things that other people didn’t necessarily notice, and it never failed to make him feel special. “I can show it to you later, if you like,” he said with less confidence than he would have liked. Being open with his sister was something he wanted to get himself used to, but right now, it still felt like some fragile thing that could collapse at any moment. However, he immediately perked up at the mention of records, and without wasting another moment, he looped her arm around his and led them down the hallway in the direction of the kitchens. “What record is it?” he asked eagerly. “Actually wait-- don’t tell me. I want it to be a surprise.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

hotel rooms & new tattoos  ➸ micah & regulus

[ofbrokenbonesx]

Micah’s body was patchwork of art - criss-crossed across his skin were moments captured forever in time through images that he’d chosen. Regulus had seen most of them before - glimpses when Micah wore something short-sleeved or when they changed beside each other on the way to or from quidditch practice. And though he’d asked the meaning of a few before, most answers had been true - but to an extent. He hadn’t ever felt like he deserved the whole truth; the tattoos were such blatant forms of rebellion that they almost intimidated Regulus, and learning the reasons for each… He’d shied from it. Now, he wanted all of Micah - reasons and rebellions and all. Leaning forward, Regulus looked at the Dali tattoo closer, noticing the detail and flicking his eyes from the melting clocks to Micah’s eyes. “Wonder what Dali’s meaning behind the painting was,” Regulus murmured. “Time isn’t real, maybe,” he said, fingertips lingering on the melting clocks. “Feels real when we’re apart all summer.” The last summer had been the worst on record – maybe for reasons different to Micah’s, but at least they could agree that being apart from one another after spending an entire year together was hard.

Regulus liked the roses, wrapping his hand around Micah’s forearm gently as the other boy spoke. The meaning was, of course, sad – Regulus was frowning, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe I’’ll get a bunch of daffodils tattooed on me,” Regulus said, smiling at Micah, “so I’ll always have some to give to you, but these ones will never wilt.” He gave one last squeeze to Micah’s arm before the other boy raised them to show him the infamous FUCK YOU, complete with a heart. It was so caustic that it almost felt like a slap every time he saw it. “This one is disrespectful. If I did that, my mum would blast my fingers off,” Regulus murmured, shaking his head at Micah before threading their fingers together so that the letters weren’t pressed together. “But no champagne, got it.” Regulus’ eyes drifted over Micah’s hands, where there were a smattering of other tattoos. He pried apart Micah’s long fingers, and there sat a steaming mug of tea. “Because you love tea so very much?” Regulus asked wryly, his fingers moving down across Micah’s palms and looping around his wrists. “Footprints. An animal’s,” he noted softly, frowning. “Unless you have a secret cat hidden in your room, I’m going to guess its your patronus, right?” He looked up, thumb brushing against the paw print tattoos as he remembered seeing Micah’s patronus in DADA only within the last year. It had been nice to learn that his patronus - a wolf - had been of the canine variety, like Micah’s. Animals that survived in the freezing winters, he thought.

Releasing his hold on Micah’s wrists, Regulus hands gently rested on his chest instead. There, right over his heart, was a hand with its fingers crossed. “Cross my heart, hope to–” Regulus couldn’t say the next word, instead looking up at Micah sharply. “You don’t, do you?” he asked. “Wish to… die?” It felt like there was something stuck in his throat at the very thought – that at some point, Micah had been low enough to even want that tattoo. “Please tell me it means something else,” he asked sadly, fingertips pressing into Micah’s skin desperately.

Regulus touched him as though he were something to be revered, so infinitely gentle but with a surety that said, ‘I know you won’t break’ and Micah felt so special underneath him, to have all of the other’s attention focused on him and calm, soothing fingers roving lightly over his skin. He wanted to memorize moments like this and stow them away for when his thoughts were bleak and his mood was stormy. “I thought it was cute,” Micah shrugged, in response to Regulus’ quip about the little cup of tea tattooed on the inside of his index finger. Sometimes, a cup of tea was just a cup of tea, and a tattoo was just a tattoo. “It was the first one I got,” he said, giving it a fond smile and remembering how much the placement had hurt, how much Javid had laughed at his whimpering and whining because, ‘I warned you, kid. You signed yourself up for it.’ “Back when I cared about being discrete about them.” He glanced back up at Micah, smiling pleasantly as the other boy moved on to the fox prints on the insides of his wrists. “Who knew I was dating Sherlock Holmes?” Micah asked under his breath, amusement coloring his voice, before he said, “Yeah. They’re fox prints. Look a bit like every other bloody animal print, but I got ‘em a little more pointed and a little less like-- polished, I guess? It just felt more me.” Micah was all jagged edges and harsh words, and to have such smooth, rounded prints marring his skin had felt wrong. “Tattoo artist said they looked kinda like a cross between fox prints and wolf prints, I think,” he offered absentmindedly, letting his free hand rest against the side of Regulus’ thigh.

Reg’s dire assumption about the crossed fingers on his chest surprised Micah, and he shook his head quickly, seeking out the other’s hand and lacing their fingers together in assurance. “You’ve never crossed your fingers for good luck before?” Micah asked. “Like. ‘I’ve got a huge test tomorrow, crossing my fingers it goes well’ sort of thing?” He kissed their interlocked fingers, trying to push away whatever fears Regulus had. Certainly, Micah wasn’t a novice when it came to hardships and struggle, and he’d had his fair share of despondency, but he’d never even considered going down that particular route. “I figured that my heart could always use some extra good luck, so there you go. And I spent most of my childhood crossing my fingers behind my back every time I lied to my parents because technically it isn’t lying if you’ve got your fingers crossed -- or at least, that was my justification for it. It just seemed to fit.” He pulled Regulus close, kissing him long and slow, feeling a little dizzy with how much he liked the drag of their lips against each other, before withdrawing. “You worry too much,” he said softly, smiling up at Regulus, his eyes twinkling through his lashes. “I’ve never had anyone worry about me the way you worry about me.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

Taking out one of the spare beans, he took out his board once more & set it between them. ❝ If I cut it, ❞ he explained, demonstrating by slicing at the bean until juice began to dribble from it. A rather PALTRY comparison to the method before. ❝ Now, if I crush it. ❞ He showed Micah again, crushing it slowly until the bean seemed nothing more than a dried husk. ❝ It’s similar to a fruit. If you cut up an orange, you’ll get juice all over your hands. If you pulverize it, you’ll have juice absolutely everywhere. It works best with a silver knife, but that isn’t necessary. ❞ Vanishing both the bean & the juice, he cleaned the cutting board once more & stowed it away. ❝ PLASTIC is a Muggle invention, ❞ he added, knowing the Bones family were pure-bloods. ❝ It’s harmful to the environment, since they can’t vanish it away when they’re done with it, but it serves a purpose. Plastic isn’t at all absorbent, unlike wood. It maximizes how much juice I can collect – once it dissolves into wood, it makes it difficult for me to transfer it, even with a wand, because working magic on a molecular level is… interesting. ❞ & something far beyond N.E.W.T. level. More of a study for healers than anyone else, yet it fascinated him, due to his mother’s interest in Muggle sciences. 

Caradoc added the saltwater next, stirring clockwise as the lilac color swirled into place. It was paler than he’d ever managed it before, but still not quite the perfect shade he knew it could be at this point. Wondering if it was SALVAGEABLE through the later portions of the recipe, he continued on, adding more Valerian root & stirring, as well as the powdered asphodel. It was so far shaping up to be a potion that would have earned him an outstanding on any examination. But it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t the glowing recommendation of Severus Snape’s. ❝ Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves, ❞ he mused, shaking his head at his own foolishness. ❝ This was an inherently foolish endeavor, but I hope you learned anything at all from it. That was your intention? ❞   

Micah watched Caradoc’s demonstration with rapt attention and listened patiently to the other’s explanation of plastic. He often thought that the perfect, harmonious world would be one of equal cohabitation between the wizarding world and the muggle one; both sides carried solutions to problems the other had never dreamed of solving. But the idea was too radical to propose at a time like this, and he didn’t want to get dragged into a discussion about politics and ideals simply because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. However, he did suspect that, if he were to tell anyone this idea, Caradoc would probably be more understanding than others. “You’re a really good teacher,” Micah said, watching as Caradoc stirred the potion and it turned a pale shade of lilac. “I think I’ve learned more from you right now than I’m going to learn in my entire year of O.W.L. potions.”

He frowned, however, at the other’s self deprecation, eyebrows arching upwards in surprise. “But it’s good!” Micah insisted. “Isn’t it? It’s supposed to look like that, right?” He tilted his head to the side, not understanding where the older boy was coming from. “Practice is never a bad thing, even if you like. Didn’t get exactly what you want out of it,” he said, trying to offer some semblance of reassurance. He’d never been the best at comforting other people, and he wasn’t even sure if Caradoc needed comforting, but he felt as though it needed to be said. No intellectual endeavor was a waste in his eyes, even if the results it yielded weren’t what you expected.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

This is how far they were slowly pushed — still children, now figuratively glancing over their shoulders & expecting to see monsters hiding behind every shadow. Gladys hated unnecessary conflict, dreaded the possibility of her words being daggers in someone’s mind, but the young boy had it all wrong, and she couldn’t help but try to explain and soothe. “Being prepared for it doesn’t mean we’re taught to use the weapons of oppressors to defeat them,” she replied calmly, throwing a pointed look to the boy next to her so he’d remember. Now, though, she found it hard to focus on the sixth year as the other Ravenclaw seemed to be more lost than his housemate. Yet some people hated being offered help and the youngest Bones was definitely one of them, so she saw no point in being direct about this.

“& you understood wrong, Micah – this tutoring session, as well as the sixth year curriculum, has nothing to do with learning about how to kill someone. It’s the exact opposite; we are studying this to see the psychology behind it, why they are dangerous and how to stop them. That’s all.” Or at least that’s what she thought and hoped she wasn’t wrong.

“You think some of the people in this castle are going to make that distinction?” He thought of Bellatrix Black, of Cassius Mulciber, of Rabastan Lestrange. None of them seemed particularly fond of the psychology behind such spells. They just wanted to use them and cause pain and ruin people, and -- Micah had to stop himself from going any further. He pointedly ignored anything and everything to do with the growing tension of the war, and he wasn’t about to break that promise to himself now. “You can’t stop ‘em,” Micah muttered under his breath. “How the fuck do you deflect a killing curse? You can’t.” He remembered being eleven and scared and frantically searching through his father’s library for some sort of protection, and he’d come up short.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

a gasp falls from her lips as he shares his new secret with her. sapphire hues widening & smile radiating like the sun. hands pushed together before she calms herself, slightly. ❝ YourFIRST kiss? Micah! ❞ she replies. ❝ No no no! You cannot decide to keep secrets from menow. I need to at least know how it was and how it felt, ❞ her voice excited and eyes curious. reaching out to pat him on his cheek before she picks up yet another strawberry. excitement evident in the way she held herself. 

for a second, greta regrets having let her sunshine disposition fade out at the mentioning of the ball. the need to not worry micah etched into her bones, yet she had faltered. a sign of her scattered mind and conflicted thoughts hiding underneath the surface. the gentle nudge he gives her telling of how he NOTICED and she smiles at him. oh micah, my dear koala. ❝ I am absolutely positive that the ball was lovely & I am fine, I swear, ❞ it is a white lie which she indulges in, but she mustn’t worry him about her woes. not when there were exciting news to be heard, and micah’s shoulders did not need to carry her weight as well as the constant chip on his shoulder. ❝ & I am sure Edgar looked for you during the ball, but he did seem quite… Not present, I can’t place my finger on it. Have you talked since? ❞

Clamping his teeth down on his lower lip, Micah hid a smile. He wanted to tell her everything, the truth bursting from him at every seam, but he knew that he couldn’t. Regulus wouldn’t want it, and more than that, what if she let something slip to Edgar? The thought of that was more than he could handle, quieting his good mood just a little. “It was really nice,” he said earnestly, after a long pause. “And it felt. Right? I dunno how else to describe it.”

Greta’s assurances didn’t convince him, and he had to assume that, yet again, he was lesser than his brother, that he wasn’t as worthy of being her confidante as the infallible Edgar or her other older, cooler friends. If it were anyone else, he’d hold it against them, but he knew that Greta didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, and so he put the weight of it on himself. “If you say so,” he said, grabbing a piece of french toast and biting into it for some sort of distraction, for something to do with his hands. “I haven’t seen him, no,” he said around his food. “But Mum’s supposed to mail him some stuff for all of us in a few days, so I can check in then if you want me to?” As soon as the offer was out of his lips, Micah frowned in surprise at himself. So eager was he to ease Greta’s woes that he had-- actually offered to do something considerate for Edgar. How the world worked in strange ways.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

hotel rooms & new tattoos  ➸ micah & regulus

[ofbrokenbonesx]

Regulus had to wonder if this is what the inside of his head did look like - it was certainly the right mix of textures and objects; he wanted some place like this for his own one day, and from the contented waves that seemed to ebb off of Micah, he guessed that the other boy did like it. “Something like that,” was all Regulus said coyly, smiling at Micah happily at the reaction his imagined room had got. After shucking his beanie, gloves, coat, and shoes, Regulus allowed his body to adapt to the room of the temperature, which was warmed by the fire that was burning quietly. He mostly watched Micah, though - the pull of his shirt over his shoulders and the way he flopped back against the pillows, tired and sore but also somewhat… happy. Regulus had seen Micah happy before, but not quite like this - before, it had always seemed fleeting, and as though Micah knew it was fleeting. This felt more permanent. He startled as Micah’s foot slid between his, and he glanced up, smiling gently. “This is perfect, I promise,” Regulus said, shifting until he was lying on his side, almost touching Micah – he wanted to touch him properly, but wasn’t sure if that was too far.

The mention of his tattoos made Regulus perk back up - he had asked to know more about them. “Yeah, alright, but if something’s too personal, you don’t have to,” he said. “I won’t be upset.” Sitting up, Regulus looked down at Micah for a moment before moving with a kind of confidence he tried to fake – if he crept around Micah all the time, they’d get nowhere. Sliding his knee over Micah’s hips, Regulus settled himself on Micah’s thighs, looking down at him from the new - and frankly terrifying - position. “Is this okay?” he asked, slightly breathlessly as he bit his bottom lip, eyes raking over  Micah’s long body. It was always something about them that Regulus envied – the way Micah was tall and lean and full of hard muscle, while Regulus was small and compact in the kind of way that suggested he hadn’t stopped growing yet. Micah– Micah was already golden. Reaching forward, Regulus lifted Micah’s shirt with a smile. “I know that you hide most of them under here, so – it had better come off,” he said, flushing as the shirt was removed to reveal more skin – more than he really knew how to cope with. Littered across it were images - each a whole world in and of themselves. Where did he start? “This one,” he decided, pointing to Micah’s right bicep. “Did the tattoo artist have a stroke during the session or are the clocks supposed to look as though they’re like… melting, or something?” he asked, smiling cheekily before running his fingers down the length of Micah’s arm, fingertips just barely there. “And this one,” he said, stopping at the roses. “What’s this one for?”

Micah was more than a little startled when Regulus straddled his thighs, a blush creeping high in his cheeks and making the room feel -- hotter than it already was. This was the first time that Regulus was making him properly nervous, but he also didn’t actually mind it. They were the good sort of nerves, like right before a Quidditch match. “Course it’s okay,” Micah said as Regulus stripped off his shirt. “You’re my boyfriend.” He wasn’t sure saying the word would ever stop feeling less exhilarating, and hesitant but sure, he leaned upwards to catch Regulus’ lips with his own. The kiss was brief, more of a reassurance than anything, but his mouth still tingled from the way their lips slotted together perfectly, as though he’d only ever been built to kiss Regulus.

He laughed at the other’s first question, fingers hovering over his now second biggest piece to date. Course Reg didn’t know what it was, and Micah had snapped at people for saying less about the tattoo, but with Regulus, it was just different. “It’s based off of this painting by Salvador Dali called, ‘Persistence of Memory’,” he explained, still smiling. “Some family friends of ours went to the States on holiday, and they sent back a muggle postcard from the Museum of Modern Art in New York City as a souvenir, and the painting was on it, and I just-- I dunno, I really liked the design.” He paused, the answer feeling a little fake on the tip of his tongue. Sure, that was the most basic version of the story, but he knew there was more to share, and Regulus deserved to hear it. “The start of the summer’s always pretty miserable for me,” he admitted quietly. “Like. After a year of spending time with you, away from my parents? Adjusting’s just. Difficult. And this past summer was probably one of the worst? I dunno, I just felt kind of invisible, so when I saw this, I was like. Super gung-ho about the idea because it’s so bright and in your face, kind of? But Amelia came with me, I got it done in one sitting, and she bought me chips and a chocolate milkshake afterwards too.” He smiled, both at the memory and at Regulus, one hand rising absentmindedly to the other’s hip, seeking out the skin just underneath the hem of his shirt and tracing soft, calm circles against the sharp jut of his bone.

His attention shifted to the bouquet of roses, large and red with an extraordinary amount of detail -- that had hurt like a bitch at the time -- on each petal. Micah felt his cheeks flush, and, embarrassed, he looked away, catching Regulus’ hand in his own as a distraction before saying, “Never thought I’d have anyone to buy roses for. Or who’d buy roses for me. So I just sort of. Permanently bought them for myself.” The confession caused him pause, mostly because he was only now realizing just how many of his tattoos he could, in one way or another, relate back to Regulus. Cheeks still tipped pink, he managed to draw his gaze back to the other, offering a shy, uncertain smile before saying, “Roses aren’t my favorite flower, though. I really like daffodils. If you ever want to get me any.” He gave the other boy a cheeky wink, regaining some threads of his confidence before saying, “Also before you ask about this one--” he held up his knuckles with ‘FUCK YOU ♥” so elegantly pronounced on them, “Edgar and Amelia thought it would be a good idea to give me a tattoo gun for my fourteenth birthday, and there was a lot of champagne at the New Year’s party that year, and I make really bad decisions, basically, is the moral of this story.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

hotel rooms & new tattoos  ➸ micah & regulus

[ofbrokenbonesx]

It had never really occurred to Regulus before that he might date a boy - even when he was realising that he was gay, the possibility just didn’t seem likely, and he’d resigned himself to dating girls even if his heart wasn’t in it. Even when Micah had said he liked Regulus - and Regulus felt something spark to life in his own chest - he didn’t think it was possible then, either. A snog was one thing, but to date? There was so much risk involved that Regulus would have probably said that nothing could be worth it – and then there was Micah. It wasn’t strange that Regulus felt so strongly after such a short amount of time; they’d know each other for five years. The romance side might have been new, but Regulus knew what kind of person Micah was: brash and loud with a geeky side that he didn’t let many people see. He was kind and warm and a little bit broken in a way that meant the light poured through easier. Micah was patient and sometimes temperamental - moody and quick to a kind of tantrum that meant he was forever storming off dramatically. He was beautiful, but he wasn’t perfect - and Regulus just wanted that - him, Micah - for his own.

Before he got an answer to one of the most important questions he could ever ask someone, Micah wrapped his scarf around Regulus and, pulling him close, kissed him. It was bold and stupid and warm, and Regulus couldn’t help but kiss him back, feeling a bubble of something like ecstasy building in his chest as Micah agreed pulling back and leaving his cheeks bare to the wind. He laughed when Micah asked if he could write home, even if it faded when he realised that Micah’s parents weren’t likely to even care. “If you want,” Regulus said, fingers curling around Micah’s as they started walking again. “But your code name is Michelle, like The Beatles’ song. My Michelle.” He hummed the song under his breath as they headed to the castle, wandering without hurry to the fifth floor where the stretch of blank wall was unassuming to the unlearned student. But to Regulus, it was a gateway to an oasis. “You need to think about what you want - really visualise it,” he said, trying to conjure the image in his mind - but nothing specific came. Did he want a bedroom? Couches? A fireplace? What did Micah want?

Through his confusion and subsequent pacing, a door had materialised, and for a moment, Regulus panicked - what had he been thinking of? Surely it hadn’t been anything specific - what if the Room beyond was a jumbled mess that resembled Regulus’ frayed thoughts? Looking hesitantly at Micah, Regulus opened the door, poking his head inside before pulling it back out and holding his hand for Micah. “C’mon, you should see this,” he said, tugging the taller boy into the room an closing the door behind them. They were standing in a spacious bedroom that held a large bed, but the room was also dotted with armchairs and love sofas, just in case the bed was too intimidating. There was a crackling fireplace, and books stacked neatly in shelves, and a chess board in a corner. Windows opened out to a blue sky, with green mountains dotted in the distance, but it was generic in the sort of way that made Regulus feel free - like he could have been anywhere between Hogwarts and Sweden. “Do you like it?” he asked, looking up at Micah, trying not to think about how it looked like a bedroom he wanted to own someday when he was independent, and he silently sought Micah’s approval.

Micah watched Regulus pacing back and forth in front of the wall, gasping audibly when the door materialized out of thin air; there were just somethings you didn’t get used to, no matter how much time you spent around magic, and random doors to mutable rooms were definitely near the top of Micah’s list. He followed Regulus inside after the other’s insistent words, and, looking around as the door creaked shut, he felt instantly at ease. There was something so peaceful about the room, about the way light -- from where, Micah had no idea -- filtered in and cast a warm glow on everything it touched, about the large, plush pillows covering every surface, about the books, and the hillside, and the blue, blue sky. He’d never seen this room before, never inhabited it, but for some reason, it felt inexplicably like coming home to a place he’d always known. He looked to Regulus, unable to contain his relief and his happiness, before grabbing the other boy around the middle and hugging him so tightly that he lifted him off the ground, swinging him around a bit before setting him down, his head spinning a little at the exertion. Alright. So maybe he should lie down.

“It’s perfect,” he said earnestly, dipping down and kissing Regulus’ forehead, just because he could now, and feeling a small, thrill of excitement at the thought. Here, he didn’t have to worry about guarding himself and his actions, and the relief of that was enormous. He was absolutely prepared to censor his behavior in public -- even though he’d never been much good at it before, but he was willing to put every ounce of effort he had into the task for Regulus’ sake -- but not having to worry about that was more freeing than he could ever imagine. With long, loping legs, he strode over to the bed, dragging Regulus along with him and peeling off all of his layers of outwear until he reached his jeans and t-shirt before plopping down onto the bed and kicking his shoes off. The sheets felt soft and smooth to the touch -- luxurious, his mind realized after a long pause; it wasn’t that the Bones’ didn’t have money to spend on things like this, but there just never was the practical occasion. But Micah relished the way the fabric felt underneath his skin. Propping himself up on his left side so as to protect his right, newly tattooed side from the pressure of his weight, he smiled at Regulus, wide and happy. “Is this what the inside of your mind looks like?” he asked. “Because I like it. I want to stay here forever.” It shocked Micah how much he wanted that, and, overwhelmed by the strength of his own emotions, he felt his cheeks flush, bright and vibrant.

Licking his lips, he scooted closer to Regulus, letting his head rest back on the huge mountain of pillows pressed against the headboard before sliding a bright blue sock covered foot between Regulus’ ankles, tracing little designs on the delicate bone with his toe. “Is this alright?” he asked, looking at Regulus through his lashes and biting his lip, nervous and uncertain. “I don’t want to do anything that isn’t alright. I just. Like being close to you.” He felt ridiculous for getting embarrassed -- Regulus had literally asked him to be his boyfriend on their walk over, so naturally, he was entitled to doing things like touching him and wanting to be near him, but he still felt that it would be remiss of him not to ask. Both of them wanted this to be slow, but Micah tended to get carried away with things, and slow wasn’t usually a word his temperament held in high regard. “You. Um. You wanted to know about my tattoos,” he said, trying to shake himself back into some semblance of normalcy. “Ask away. Literally anything, and I’ll tell you.” He and Regulus didn’t keep secrets, but it still felt huge giving the other such unlimited access to his personal history. But it was a testament to how much he trusted Regulus that he was willing to tell the other boy whatever he wanted without censoring himself.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

gently she takes the strawberry offered & bites into it as she settles down next to the youngest bones. smile growing as she notices the change in his mood and without being able tocontain herself she ruffles his hair affectionately. she had adopted him into her heart many years past, her koala, and she would adore him whatever he did. ❝ I think you’re perfect the way you are, ❞ she muses in response, kissing his cheek before taking another bite of the strawberry. 

❝ As long as it ended good, even though I hope those bad incidents didn’t overshadow the evening. Anything you want to talk about? ❞ the offer falling off the tip of her tongue with ease. she was always ready to catch him, always ready to offer a hug or a warm word to the littlekoala who had captured her heart years past. & as he inquires about her evening, mentioning love and Edgar she cannot help but let her smile falter momentarily. eyes looking away from micah and focusing on the wall in front of them. ❝ Oh, it was a beautiful ball, & I promise that Edgar behaved, if behaving means monopolising me for the last hour of the ball and showing me those dance-moves he wooed me with back in fifth year. ❞ and here she laughs at the memory, returning her attention to micah as she reaches over to pick up another strawberry from his plate.  ❝ Edgar, the charmer, ❞ she muses, winking at micah before she takes a bite from the berry in her hand.

“Not really,” Micah hums, nibbling at the edge of his bacon before, unable to contain himself, he says, “I had my first kiss. Not at the ball. Just. It happened a few days ago. And it was. Yeah. Um.” His cheeks flush, and he adds, “But that’s all you’re getting out of me, Greta. I’m like a steel trap. An impenetrable fortress. No one’s getting information out of me.” He fixes her with a faux stern look before grinning and taking a long sip of his pumpkin juice.

He doesn’t miss the way her smile fades; it’s quick enough that he could have, but the support between them is a two way street. Certainly, Micah feels like he’s the one always asking for help and needing her, but the only reason he doesn’t feel bad for weighing her down so much is that, if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same for her. He nudges her knee with his own, and asks, “You sure you had a good time?” Edgar could have been the perfect gentleman, but that doesn’t mean that her night was all roses and smiles, and, if she needs to talk about anything, he’s more than willing to listen. “I’m glad Edgar was good, though. I don’t think I saw him all night...” He isn’t upset about it, but-- it needles at him in a way he doesn’t quite understand. “You sure you’re good, Greta?”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“For the time being, yes.“ Easier done for him; he had suspicions that were most likely right. They were ones that gave him fear, but in a way that excited. There was a mark waiting for him, and he only needed to hold his patience for two years.

He’s waited longer for his father’s approval, and he could bet his life he had better chances with the plans he had.

Clearing his throat, he appended, “We don’t have to pretend everything is alright if we don’t want to. Of course there will be people who would rather be blind to all of this, but we’re smarter than that, don’t you think?” With a smile, he continued. “It’s one way to keep the pressure of accountability. It may not be much, but showing our outright dissatisfaction might push him to say something. Maybe put something into action too.”

Barty winked at the younger Ravenclaw. “That’s what battle we should pick. He won’t be getting away with much without us making faces and maybe throwing a ‘boo’ his way.”

Micah sighed, rubbing at the starts of a tension headache right at his temples, pouring himself a cup of coffee in hopes of staving it off. “This year’s just-- so weird already,” he muttered, his mood only lifted slightly by the other’s light tone and careful practicality. “Whatever. It’ll all come out eventually.”

He cleared his throat, glancing over at his friend before saying, “At the very least, though, did you enjoy the extra month off?” Micah certainly hadn’t, but he hated being at home almost as much as he hated being at Hogwarts. There was just no winning with him.

“Popular opinion seems heavily divided. Some people thought it was too much time off, while others, it seemed, took full advantage of the break and let even more of their brains dribble out of their ears,” he said sagely, nodding his head with faux somberness. The students of Hogwarts were, nine times out of ten, more ridiculous than Micah knew how to deal with.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

     He remained impassive, unwilling to cause strife between the two teammates. Already, Augustus knew contention existed to an extent, but to eagles it was and had always been the way of their house, however it hinged on balance and he would not be the one to upset it. Diplomatic in his approach, Augustus simply nodded, addressing the complaint head on with logic.

      “ The point of such drills is to build up your endurance so that when a      match does arise, practice will have prepared you for the rapid energy              depletion. If we are to win this year, we cannot just rely on raw talent. ”  

Micah faltered under Augustus’ pragmatism. It was disconcerting to be met with such calmness when he himself was the very definition of erratic energy. But he supposed that’s what made Augustus effective as a leader, Quidditch or otherwise.

“I mean, sure,” he said, conceding to the other’s point. “That makes sense. But I literally cannot remember the last time I enjoyed a practice, and like-- as much as we all want to win, we’re also doing this as a team, y’know? I just wish that all the practices weren’t like, ‘go go go,’ is all.”

He heaved a great sigh before shrugging. “Although. You’re the captain. So, you can do whatever you want ultimately.”

[ofbrokenbonesx]

        “ Oh Merlin, he does get a bit too competitive when it comes to quidditch, doesn’t he? ” she replies as she steps up next to the youngest bones. hand reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“ –– I got your letter by the way, koala. The ball was quite eventful, & I’m sad I didn’t get time to hide away with you. How was your evening? Except for the big achievement? ”

Micah’s mood disappeared at the sight of the Hufflepuff. Greta always made everything better. “S’all right,” he shrugged, lips pursing. “It’s gonna make me all buff and rugged one day, so.” He smiled at her cheekily before digging into his breakfast, picking up a particularly large strawberry and offering it to her absentmindedly.

“It was-- fun,” Micah settled on after a long moment. “Yeah. Like. It started out good, and then it went to crap, and it ended good, but luckily, I was pretty pissed during the crap parts, so those are all blurry, but the good bits are still good.” He smiled brightly before asking, “What about you? Did everyone and their mum fall in love with you? More importantly, did Edgar fuckin’ behave himself?” Micah still had hopes that Edgar and Greta would get back together; they might be foolish and naive, but oh well.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

hotel rooms & new tattoos  ➸ micah & regulus

[ofbrokenbonesx]

Regulus hadn’t been expecting Micah to be so eager to get away from Hogsmeade – and it made him feel just a little too warm, like maybe he’d layered too much that morning. He watched as Micah attempted to shove as much food into himself as he could, but Regulus wasn’t hungry - perhaps he should’ve been, what with the tattoo and the adrenaline, but he mostly felt… content. Buzzing, slightly, but a kind of all over happiness that hadn’t been there when he’d left the castle earlier; this is a date, he thought to himself, looking at Micah who was swallowing down chips with the chocolate milkshake, as though he weren’t going to eat for the next ten years. I’m dating him. The thought made Regulus smile, just as Micah whispered that he wanted to kiss Regulus again. It was so new to their friendship that it almost made him start, but it also made his smile widen for a moment before he squashed it, trying not to look too eager. It was new, but it was good, and Regulus hadn’t had that in so long.

“We can cuddle,” Regulus said, amused at Micah’s rambling. It was something they both tended to do when nervous - just let their brains connect directly to their mouths and allow whatever thought was passing through spill out.  His smile fell as Micah’s spoke more earnestly, airing what was actually worrying him - that with things changing, so too would Regulus’ tolerance of him. But what Micah didn’t understand was that he was the one tolerating Regulus, not the other way around - he was the one who felt like a burden, darkening Micah’s golden-painted world every time he stepped into his space. But – if they both felt like that, surely that neutralised the fear completely? “Nothing’s changing, not really,” Regulus told him, shuffling closer in the booth so that their knees pressed together. “We’re still going to do all the things we used to - I’ll still owl you at three in the morning with an idea, and I’ll still tease your ridiculous hair, and we’ll still study together in the library… None of that has to change - even if we feel different now, it’s only heightened; it’s building on what we had before. Friendship, but with a lot of potions to make it bigger and brighter and more intimate. Minus the potion part, of course.” Regulus hoped that Micah understood what he was saying – that being friends anddating was possible - or so he hoped. “So– no, I’m not going to get sick of you. Haven’t in the last five years, and don’t think I will now that I get to kiss you.”

Giving Micah a smile that he hoped seemed encouraging, Regulus grabbed their coats, beanies, and gloves and passed Micah’s to him before shrugging on his own. “C’mon then, time to put you to sleep - you’re starting to even look tired,” Regulus said with a frown, noticing that Micah looked a little peaky. “I thought you’d be used to this – tattoos and stuff. I’mhandling it better and it was my first time. Must be that superior lineage - blood will out, as they say,” Regulus teased, pulling Micah from the booth and out the door of the Three Broomsticks by the crook of his elbow. Now that they were alone and walking through the chilling wind, Regulus felt better about speaking more openly. “Are you still worried? About– us? Because I promise, Micah, I do, like, want to do the same stuff and the new stuff. You’re not going to scare me away - just… we’ll take it slow. All of it, how does that sound? Dip our toes in the metaphorical pool of dating.” Regulus glanced behind them to see that no one else was heading up to the castle - most were probably still shopping - so he reached down and clasped Micah’s gloved hand in his own. “You know, if we’re dating, you’d… technically speaking, be– be my boyfriend.” His cheeks were pink and he tucked his chin into the collar of his jacket so that Micah couldn’t see his face. “If you want to be, of course,” he added hastily.

Regulus had always been the only one who could truly silence the neurotic twists and turns of his thoughts. He worried too much, and he allowed his worries to get the best of him, most of the time, but Regulus knew how to pull him back and reel him in. Micah felt tethered and warm where their knees touched, even though their skin was separated by layers of clothing, but it was the closest he’d ever felt to anyone. That had to mean something. “I dunno how that’s possible, honestly,” Micah said quietly, reaching his hand down under the table and brushing his thumb over Regulus’ knee in quick, gentle circles. “You’re just-- you’re so good to me. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel real.” Exhaling heavily, he let his smile, bright and fluorescent and all for Regulus, reappear on his face, infused with the strength of the other’s words. “But I honestly wouldn’t want this any other way. I feel like all I’ve been doing for the past few days is saying this because it’s true, and I don’t care, but-- I’m really glad that we’re best friends first. I want that to always be first. Because as much as I like the kissing and stuff. S’not as important as anything else.”

It was honestly ridiculous how much seeing Regulus smile eased his thoughts, and Micah followed the other’s lead, getting up and wrapping his scarf securely around his neck before putting on his gloves. At the other’s teasing remark, he pouted, letting out a long, “Heeyyyyyyy,” before saying, “my tattoo was bigger than yours by a lot.” But the pout didn’t stay long, evaporating as soon as they made it out into the cold afternoon air, watching the way the cold air made Regulus’ cheeks turn pink and the way the snow flakes -- falling at a slow, lazy pace from the dreary sky -- got caught in his eye lashes. Micah had to bite down on his lip, staring resolutely ahead to keep himself from throwing subtlety to the wind and kissing Regulus right there. It wasn’t until they got further down the path, though, that Regulus broke the contented silence between them, and Micah looked over at him, a huge smile breaking across his face as Regulus took his hand. Glancing around and making sure they were, in fact, totally alone, he took the ends of his scarf and wrapped them around Regulus’ neck, hiding their faces as he pulled Regulus in close, kissing him warmly. Merlin, it felt so good to be able to do that. “Boyfriend,” he hummed quietly against Regulus’ mouth before pulling back and returning to his own personal space as they continued to walk, hand brushing against Regulus’ every few seconds. “Yeah, I. Really like the sound of that.” Mine, mine, mine, Micah’s mind chanted in a brilliant, beautiful harmony. “Can I write home and tell my parents I’ve started seeing someone? A pretty, pretty girl named-- Regina.” He smiled winsomely before sliding his hand, more permanently into Regulus’.

They made it back to the castle without incident, and, reluctantly, as they entered the grounds, Micah took his hand back, shoving it deep into his pocket to try and preserve some of Regulus’ phantom warmth. They took the steps up to the fifth floor -- where the Room of Requirement was located -- as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention to themselves, and, once they were outside the appropriate blank patch of wall, Micah glanced to Regulus, unsure of how to proceed. “This might be a stupid question,” he said, cheeks flushed from the cold and from the barest hints of embarrassment, “but how the hell do we get in?” Regulus probably (definitely) knew the answer; there’s no way he would have suggested it if he didn’t.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“Of course it matters,” he snapped with furrowed brow and insistent tone; did Micah not remember their talk? The honesty? The hug? “You asked for them, and she forgot. I’ll hound her until she sends them; she’s getting more and more absent-minded by the day. D’you know she sent me one shoe once? Just one.”

“Stop it, Edgar,” Micah mumbled, quiet but determined. “I didn’t ask you to hound her because I don’t want you to. Why can’t you just. Leave things alone? She forgot. Big whoop. She always forgets about me.” I’m used to it.

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“I-I can owl her back and ask, if you want. I’m sure she just– I’m sure it’s coming. I think it’s all… boring stuff, anyway. Textbooks, paperwork, that one bloody scarf she keeps trying ta’ force me to wear.”

“Look, here, I’ll send out the owl before I go to Charms. Yeah? She’ll get it by the end of the day.”

“Don’t bother.” What was worse -- having his mother forget about him to dote on her favorite son or having his can-do-no-wrong older brother swoop in and save the day? “S’not like it matters anyways. They’re just stupid fucking records.” That I wanted to show Regulus because I knew they’d make him smile.