Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call
“Merry Christmas, my love.”James whispered, laying in bed with the love of his life. A boy named Regulus Black with curly hair and a love for medicine. Regulus looked up at him, head laying on his bicep. A soft smile playing on his lips.
James leaned down, joining their lips. Regulus pulled back, a sour taste on his lips and hurt in his eyes. “James, it’s nine am.” His voice, merely a whisper.
James jolted awake. While he couldn’t quite remember how he managed to find himself on the examination bed, he knew he had to get out of there fast.
James had avoided the local doctor for exactly three years as of yesterday. In a small town like his, that was saying something. As a farmer who had an affinity for danger and a penchant for alcohol, that was really saying something.
“James.”
He froze.
It was too late, he was done for.
He looked up to see him. The Doctor. His dark brown curls looked longer. His jaw was smooth, he must have just shaved, he looked so much younger. His white shirt was ironed, red tie neat as ever – but he wasn’t wearing his green jacket, when did he stop wearing it?
“Hey, love.” James let the corner of his lip turn up.
The Doctor tensed.
James watched him, playing up a smirk. He refused to let himself give off any vulnerability.
Brushing off the comment, the Doctor picked up a clipboard, a familiar coffee mug in his other hand. He cleared his throat.
“It’s Doctor Black.” He walked closer before James had a moment to interject. “Your blood alcohol content came back 0.28. I’m surprised you’re so oriented at the moment, considering I found you on the pavement outside” He met James’ eye and James’ heart stopped. James’ was determined to save face.
“When did the paperwork go through?”James’ smirked.
“What?” The doctor avoided his eye.
“Doctor Black? Not Doctor Potter anymore? Regulus, when did you change your name?’ James challenged.
Regulus’ eyes met his. James held his stare intensely, his blue and hazel eyes almost fractured his facade.
“If there is anything else I can help you with Mr. Potter, please let me know. Otherwise you're free to go. Stay away from the liquor for a bit, your liver will thank you for it.” Regulus stepped back, breaking eye contact.
James stifled a laugh. He stood up, eyes on the floor. He wouldn’t let them water, not in front of his Regulus. No, this man was a stranger. He was so different from his Regulus. This confident stranger, pristine and clean was merely Regulus.
James walked to the front door of the Doctor’s Office, head held high. He refused to be weak. He wouldn’t be ever again, not in front of Regulus.
He glanced back over his shoulder as he opened the door, to see Regulus watching him, a distant look in his eyes. A momentary lapse in his judgement came from his stomach.
“Regulus-”
“Merry Christmas James, Please don’t call.”