CW: recreational drug use & unhealthy consumption of alcohol
The days of Spring blurred together and passed in a series of repeated routines for Regulus Black; studying, eating, smoking, hiding, and failing to grieve the very thing that he was longing to grieve. He would simply lay, and stare forward, and curl up beneath the covers, and he would spend either days or hours (it truly depended) right there. Curled up and lacking the ability to feel anything other than the overwhelming numbness that made him feel as though he was drowning and had the sudden inability to come up for air.
Barty was there. Every single time, Barty was there to coax Regulus out of bed and into the bathroom so that he could at least keep up his personal hygiene. He would continue to read his notes and books aloud so that Regulus could keep up at least a bit of a study regiment, which Regulus did appreciate quite a lot.
Regulus appreciated Barty; he appreciated him more than he could put into words.
But, that appreciation didn't exactly do anything to help the feelings that tore through him any and every time he was around Barty. They would be standing, and Regulus would have to fight the urge to tangle their fingers together. They would be sitting, and he would have to resist the urge to wrap an arm around his waist and lean his head on his shoulder. They would be laying down, reading or studying or doing nothing at all, and he would combat the urge to wrap his arms around Barty and pull him close and leave gentle kisses on his face to show how much he liked him. The more time Regulus spent with Barty, the more Regulus realized just how long he had had these feelings, and the worse they got; they were just developing, and developing, and developing until Regulus felt as though they were weighing so heavily on him that he was going to go right through the floor.
Barty was dealing with the same exact problems. Every time he looked at Regulus, his entire body would dissolve into nothing but butterflies and warmth that Barty had only ever known to come from Regulus. During all hours - both day and night - Barty's head was a mess of thoughts of Regulus. Regulus, Regulus, Regulus. It seemed that the only thing his mind knew was Regulus, and he never necessarily complained; it was nice. It was torturous, but Barty had become used to unpleasant things in his life. And, as far as he was concerned, Regulus was one of the more pleasant things that he could be thinking about.
When Regulus wasn't laying in bed with the feeling of having no purpose at all, he was studying. He was studying, studying, studying until he physically could not study any longer. His eyes ached, and his head hurt, and his brain felt like it was so full of information that it would overflow. But, even then, he kept going; he kept studying until he felt like he was going to pass out.
Life was getting harder as the year wore on, he learned.
Exams were coming closer, so he had to study. Quidditch was winding down, but that didn't mean that practices were happening any less frequently (for a while there, Regulus had debated quitting the team again. But, he had decided that Quidditch did more good than harm, especially in the category of distractions, so he decided against it and kept playing with as much motivation as he had been since the beginning). Regulus was still Prefect, even though he had managed to weasel his way out of quite a few patrols (as it turned out, Phoebe's means of distraction involved Prefect duty and studying). Teachers were running the fifth years ramped with homework and reading alike, piling up and drowning the students in work.
All in all, Regulus's life was - in every sense of the word - a mess.
On a Saturday in mid-May, Regulus was having one of what both boys had subconsciously begun to call one of Regulus's bad days.
Barty had successfully dragged Regulus out of bed and taken him to the Great Hall for lunch, and he had done his best to keep him out of the dorm room; he didn't exactly want Regulus to go back to laying down bed where he would do nothing but stare and wallow in whatever horrible thoughts were swirling through his mind.
He thought that he could see them sometimes - the thoughts. Swirling behind Regulus's eyes and disintegrating every single positive thing inside of Regulus's mind and leaving nothing but the negative. Barty wished that he could help - that there was something that he could do to take it away completely; he found that he was more often than not willing to take them upon himself if it just meant that Regulus didn't have to feel that way any longer.
Barty was willing to do quite a lot for Regulus, he had learned.
They were outside. Barty had dragged Regulus out to study, telling him that he could do well with some fresh air. They were sitting beneath a tree by the lake, Barty writing an essay for Transfiguration (which Regulus, he was surprised to know, had always remembered was his favorite subject), and Regulus was just sitting. He had his back pressed against the bark, one knee pulled to his chest and one leg splayed out. His arms were crossed over his stomach, and his head was tilted a bit to the side, and he was watching a group of kids at the edge of the lake.
He had been watching them for a while, interest piqued inside of his negativity-filled mind. They were tossing slices of bread on the water of the lake, laughing every time a tentacle of the Giant Squid reached up and pulled it under. He sighed after a while, and Barty looked up at the sound, the silence between the two shattering like glass.
"What's up?" Barty asked, his voice quiet even though there were no eavesdroppers in sight.
Regulus made a small gesture at the kids by the lake, eyes not leaving them. "Squids don't eat bread."
Barty furrowed his brow and frowned a bit, following Regulus's line of sight and watching the scene. The two were silent for a moment, watching the kids throw more bread and watching the squid reach up to take it. Eventually, Barty let out his own sigh and leaned his head back against the tree, turning it so that his gaze was trained on Regulus.
"It seems like the squid likes it," he shrugged along with his statement, eyes slowly tracing Regulus's features. He wanted to reach over - he wanted to grab Regulus's hand and slot their fingers together, and he wanted Regulus to lean his head on Barty's shoulder so that he could lay his own on top of his, but he resisted. Instead, he focused on trying to determine any sort of change in Regulus's facial expression.
There was none; his face stayed the same, but words left his mouth - words that lacked any sort of emotion in them.
"Squid's eat other fish - they're cannibals, technically. They don't like bread. They don't eat it." He tilted his head a bit more to the side, eyes half-closed as he stared and words spilled without much thought behind them at all. "Do you think the Merpeople like bread?"
Barty shrugged again. "Probably not. If squids don't like them, I doubt that they would."
"Maybe they do. Maybe the squid gives them the bread that students give it, and in exchange, they just let it... live." Regulus was silent for a moment. "I think I'd like to be a squid."
Barty let out a breath of laughter and raised his eyebrow slightly, that same, stupid smile on his face that seemed to never leave when he was around Regulus. "Why's that?"
Regulus wasn't laughing. He wasn't smiling. He was staring, and he was trying not to think, but thoughts were pushing down the walls that he was trying desperately to build up before he could even start. "They just... they're so... free. They don't have to think, they don't have to feel, they just... live."
Barty's smile disappeared, and he was left staring at Regulus with an ache in his chest and a sad look in his eyes. He swallowed and sniffed after moments of silence had passed, and he closed the textbook that he had open at his side. "Do you wanna go inside?"
Regulus thought this over for a moment before nodding his head. Barty smiled and shoved his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he stood up from the ground. He turned around, expecting to see Regulus standing behind him. However, the area was clear, and he looked down to see that Regulus hadn't made any sort of movements; he was sitting on the ground, back still to the tree and eyes still trained on the ripples that were shattering the otherwise pristine surface of the Black Lake.
Barty frowned and took a step closer to the boy, bending down so that he was much closer to being face-to-face with him. "Reg, c'mon, let's go inside. We can go to the dorm, and I can read you my notes if you want, and you can do some homework, maybe? Or you could take a shower if you wanted." Regulus didn't move, his blinks slow and far apart as his nostrils quivered with particularly unsteady breaths. "Reg?"
"I can't," Regulus breathed, voice so low that Barty could barely hear it, even in the silence that filled them.
Barty furrowed his brow and tilted his head a bit, mouth downturned at the corners. "What do you mean?" His voice was taking on that same gentle tone that he seemed to reserve specifically for Regulus.
Regulus shook his head slowly, face slowly contorting into an expression that Barty could only describe as a mixture between despondency and confusion. "I just... I can't. I can't get up." He was trying - he was trying to move his legs and to stand up, but he couldn't. It was as though his brain wasn't sending the signals to his limbs - wasn't telling them to move. He was trying, but he couldn't, and he could feel his lungs starting to contract as panic bubbled up inside of him. What was happening? Why couldn't he move?
Barty could see the sheen coming to his eyes, and he saw the light tremble that was coming to his hands, and he saw the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, and he knew what it meant; he had become quite accustomed to the symptoms of one of Regulus's panic attacks. He scooted a bit closer to Regulus, and he put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and he leaned forward so that his eyes were burning into those of Regulus. "Regulus, you're ok. I'm gonna help you stand up, ok?"
Regulus swallowed and nodded his head slowly. Perhaps if there wasn't so much panic coating his insides and threatening to erode them away only to replace them itself, he would've been embarrassed by the whole thing. But, right now, he felt empty, and a crushing amount of hopelessness was weighing down on his entire body and sinking right into his brain, stopping his limbs from completing the movements that he was trying to command them to complete.
Barty reached down, and he grabbed Regulus's hand, and he stood up and took Regulus's arm with him. He reached out his other hand and reached around Regulus, placing it on his back to help him up. Regulus bent his legs to help himself stand, and relief washed over him when he realized that he was - indeed - bending his own legs. Barty could feel the grip that Regulus had on his hand loosening, and he could see his shoulders relaxing, and he smiled a bit as Regulus's panic seemed to subside.
When he had stood up, Barty dropped his hands only to place them again on Regulus's shoulders. He stared into his eyes - brown boring into grey - and he smiled again. Regulus looked at the smile, and he felt the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips; Regulus could stare at it for hours, he was positive.
"See?" Barty was speaking before Regulus had even realized that his mouth had been opened at all. "You're ok, Reg. You're fine."
Regulus sniffed and continued to stare, wishing that this - the moments spent with Barty - would never end. Finally, he sighed and tilted his head a bit, eyes moving from Barty's to his face, tracing it and taking in every single detail as he had seemed to be doing much more often lately. "You do too much for me," he muttered.
Barty sighed, doing the same as Regulus and taking in every feature that he had grown to absolutely adore. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough." There was a moment of silence that passed between the two of them, eyes roving over the face of the other and admiring just how beautiful it was. Eventually, Barty tuned back into their surroundings - their very public surroundings - and he cleared his throat. He dropped his hands from Regulus's shoulders, and Regulus had to fight the urge to ask him to put them back. Barty took a step back, and he gave Regulus a smile that was much more tight-lipped. "C'mon, let's go inside."
By the time they had reached the common room, Regulus's head had cleared enough to tell him that he really, really wanted a cigarette. Something that shocked him quite a lot was the fact that - even after he had been smoking so frequently - he still didn't think that he was addicted. Because there was still that line - that line that had yet to be blurred - between want and need. He still didn't need them, he just wanted them; nothing horrible would happen if he didn't have one, he just wanted one to cope with the all-consuming thoughts that were swallowing him whole.
But, there was one problem with this; he had run out.
Luckily, as he reached the common room, he saw just the person that he needed. He was walking toward him before he had even realized that Barty was with him. He walked right up to the seat that Rowan Holmes was sitting in, sunglasses on and a bag of crisps in hand. He looked up at the sounds of Regulus's footsteps, a smile climbing onto his face as he saw the boy.
"Black, what can I do for 'ya today?" He put a crisp into his mouth and chewed as he waited patiently for a reply.
Regulus cleared his throat and looked around, noticing all of the people that filled the common room. At first, he was simply going to speak lowly to keep out the eavesdroppers around him. However, when he saw Barty standing beside him, he decided against it.
"Can we - uh - talk," he sent a pointed look in Rowan's direction, hoping that he would get the message.
Luckily, he did. He nodded his head and stood up, crumpling the empty bag of crisps and using his wand to cast a quick Vanishing Spell on it. "C'mon, Black, dorm's empty."
Regulus nodded and turned to Barty, giving him a smile that he hoped would appear less forced than it felt. "I'll meet you in the dorm in a few, yeah?"
Barty had an odd look on his face, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, ok." He was curious as to what was happening, but he also didn't think that he necessarily wanted to know; if it was what the voice in the back of his mind was telling him it was, he really didn't want to know.
Regulus walked up the stairs, hands shoved into his trouser pockets and mind racing with the want for a distraction, wherever he may get it. He didn't even consider the thoughts going through Barty's mind, and perhaps that was a bad thing. But, what was there to consider? As far as he knew, Barty didn't mind one bit where Regulus was - the feelings that he was reciprocating were completely platonic, after all. And, knowing the truth of the situation made it a whole lot harder to see what others may think of it.
The sixth year boy's dormitory was cleaner this time than last. The dressers were stacked high with parchments, quills, ink, textbooks, everything that they would need to study for their first N.E.W.T. level class exams. The clothes had been cleaned from the floor, the beds were (mostly) made, and the posters and photos that lined the walls had been neatened.
Rowan was digging through that same drawer, and Regulus was looking around. He was trying to determine which part of the room belonged to Severus Snape, but it was quite hard; they were all clean, so he couldn't necessarily see a way that would help the determination of it all. It wasn't very hard to pick out the section belonging to Augustus Rookwood, seeing as how he had something close to a shrine above it that included nothing but photographs and news articles of the Dark Lord. The whole thing sent a bit of a chill down Regulus's spine, for it reminded him of the thing that was permanently stuck to the wall of his bedroom back home.
He wondered how he was so bold with what he put on his walls. After all, Rowan certainly didn't follow the Dark Lord, and he didn't know enough about the other sixth years to know whether or not they did, too. But, he didn't think that Rowan was the most... observant person out there.
Finally, Rowan turned around and walked back toward Regulus with a small carton in his hands. "Two Galleons please," he said, holding the box out.
Regulus took it and fished around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out the payment that he owed, dropping it into Rowan's palm. Rowan smiled and shoved the coins into his pocket, nodding shortly at Regulus. "Pleasure doing business with you, Black." He paused for a moment, a small smirk creeping onto his face as he removed the sunglasses that he was wearing. Through the darkness, it was hard to tell what was different about his eyes, but Regulus thought that he saw a bit of a pink tint to the whites of them. "Wanna smoke with me for a little bit?"
Regulus furrowed his brow, eyes scanning Rowan's face and trying to decide whether it was a joke or not. "In here?"
Rowan shrugged. "Why not, I do it all the time," he waved a dismissive hand and turned around, walking back toward his dresser. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but the offer's there."
Regulus did have to admit, he quite liked the idea of making the room that Severus Snape occupied smell of cigarette smoke; it was common knowledge that he didn't exactly like the small. Anytime he would walk past someone who just so happened to be smoking, he would scowl at them so deeply that Regulus was surprised it didn't cause a physical ache on his face.
Besides, he saw no harm in it.
He shrugged. "Sure, why not."
Rowan yawned and forced out words that sounded nearly inaudible around the deep inhale and exhale of the action. "That's the spirit."
Regulus walked over when Rowan made a gesture, and he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed that he had determined to be Rowan's. He took the carton of fags from his pocket, and he flipped the lid open and pulled on out. He placed it between his lips as he put the carton back and drew his wand, watching Rowan curiously as he lit the end and took a deep inhale. He felt the smoke fill his lungs, and he took the cigarette between his fingers as he continued to watch what Rowan was doing. It looked like he was rolling something inside of a tin, but he couldn't exactly make out what it was.
He turned away to blow out a billowing cloud of smoke, watching as it filled the air in front of him and failed to disappear completely. He coughed a bit from the burn in his throat and looked at Rowan once again. "What are you doing?"
Rowan put something between his lips that looked like a hand-rolled cigarette and shut the tin, putting it on his nightstand. "Rolling a blunt," he said, laying back on his bed and using what looked like a lighter to burn the end that wasn't in his mouth. He inhaled, and he took it between his fingers, and he held the smoke in until he couldn't any longer. He exhaled, and another cloud of smoke joined the ones that had been made by Regulus, and he let out a sigh of what Regulus assumed to be contentment.
Regulus stayed sitting up, watching the end of his cigarette turn to ash and hang on by seemingly nothing but a thread. Rowan was staring at the hazy air above him, feeling the first effects of what he was smoking starting to set in. He looked at Regulus, and he noticed the blank look on the boy's face as he stared at the plume of smoke and lost himself in thought. Rowan took another puff of smoke and exhaled, nudging Regulus slightly with his elbow to gather in his attention.
Regulus blinked a few times in quick succession to draw himself back in and turned to look at Rowan, a questioning look on his face. Rowan held out the blunt between his fingers, Regulus staring at it curiously for a moment before Rowan spoke. "Want a hit?"
Regulus furrowed his brow a bit and shifted his gaze from the thing being held out to him to the boy holding it. "What's in it?"
"Weed."
Regulus looked at it, and he took a deep breath, and he slowly shook his head; he wasn't necessarily in the mood to try any sort of drugs at the moment. "No thanks."
Rowan shrugged and put it between his lips. "Suit yourself." He took another drag, and Regulus did, too, and on their exhales Rowan remembered something.
He sat up, blunt between his lips, and he pulled open the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He withdrew a bottle, swishing around the contents and turning around to hand it to Regulus. "Firewhisky?"
This was something that Regulus could get on board with.
Thirty minutes later, Regulus was staring at the fabric above and laughing along with something that Rowan had said. He was half a bottle of Firewhisky and two fags in, and he felt lighter than he had in months. His head was beside Rowan's, both of them laying in opposite directions and speaking in voices that were slurred slightly from the substances running through both of their veins.
The laughter died out, and they were left in a silence that was only broken by the occasional swig of the bottle that was still being passed between the two. Eventually, Regulus sighed, and he waved off the bottle as Rowan moved to hand it to him. His head was spinning, and his limbs felt heavy, but his mind felt so... light. It felt as though Regulus had never had a single thought or problem in his life, and he wasn't complaining one single bit.
"Are you gay?" It was a question that came out of nowhere and surprised Regulus quite a bit, even in his blurry haze of a mind.
"No," he replied; technically, he wasn't lying. He didn't know how to label it, exactly, but he knew that he wasn't gay.
Rowan made a small sound of confusion and tilted his head, eyes still trained on the fabric above him that seemed to be moving all on its own. "Really? I thought you and Crouch were dating?"
Regulus shook his head. "Mm-mm, nope. Why would I be dating Barty?" His words were a bit slurred, but they were still intelligible.
"Because you guys are like, in love."
Regulus continued to shake his head, the feeling of it adding to the spinning in his mind and making him laugh a bit under his breath. "We aren't in love, that's stupid."
Rowan hummed in response. "So you aren't gay?"
"Nope."
Another hum. "Shame. You could get a lot of blokes if you were gay."
Regulus's brows furrowed a bit, vision blurred 'round the edges and blinks slow. "Really?"
"Mhm."
Regulus was quiet for a moment. "Are you gay?"
Rowan nodded his head. "Mhm, yup." There was a brief moment of silence between the two. "Wait, you didn't already know that?"
The shaking of his head had yet to stop, eyes going from side to side as his hair moved and rustled beneath his head. "No, why would I?"
"Oh, well I guess you were in the hospital wing when it happened, actually." His voice had a tone of thoughtfulness to it, mixing with the light-heartedness that had found a home in the tones of both boys.
"When what happened?" Regulus didn't exactly have it in himself to change his tone to that of curiosity, but it did lift a bit at the end to indicate that a question was being asked at all.
"I snogged my boyfriend in the middle of the Great Hall. Pretty much the whole school knows. But, I guess you were still in the hospital from killing Professor Wilson." He laughed a bit with the last few words, and Regulus lifted his hand just enough to let it fall onto Rowan's head.
"I did not kill him!" His voice was full of a level of confidence that made Rowan laugh, and Regulus joined in a few seconds later. His hand rejoined the other on his stomach, and the two dissolved into a fit of giggles that lasted for minutes on end, each bit of laughter adding onto the last. Eventually, it faded out, and they were left in yet another bit of silence.
Finally, Regulus spoke up again. "What's it like?" His voice sounded far-off - almost dreamy.
"What's what like?"
"Being gay. But, like... like, like being - like being gay, but like... like, y'know? Like... like open?" Rowan was laughing by the time Regulus had stopped taking, hiccuping on almost every like that left Regulus's mouth.
"Being openly gay?" He questioned, laughter in his voice.
Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, that."
Rowan took a deep breath and sighed on his exhale. "It's alright, I s'pose. I have a boyfriend, and he's the best boyfriend ever. Like... like ever. He's so hot, and he's so nice, and he's super, super, super good at shagging-"
"Oh that's nice," Regulus cut in thoughtfully, and Rowan continued without acknowledging that he had spoken at all.
"- and I love him, so that's cool. But, y'know, it kinda sucks sometimes. The Hufflepuffs are surprisingly homophobic for how nice they're supposed to be, y'know. Like, the other day, we were kissing in the common room - because he's a Hufflepuff, you know - and then there was a girl, and she was just glaring at us the whole time. Like ok, you don't have to be jealous that I can get a boyfriend and you can't."
Regulus laughed and shut his eyes, lids feeling too heavy to keep open. "That's the spirit."
"I think the Ravenclaws have been best about it," he continued. "Maybe it's the smartness or something, but they mostly keep to themselves when it comes to that kinda stuff. You know, the Gryffindors are also homophobic, which is really ironic because a lot of them are gay."
"I know!" Exclaimed Regulus.
Rowan let out a short set of laughs before he spoke again. "And Slytherin is about how you'd expect it, I s'pose." He paused for a moment. "Why are you asking?"
Regulus shrugged. "I dunno. Just curious."
Rowan hummed in response. "You wanna know something?"
"Yeah."
"I don't get why so many Gryffindors are homophobic. If you break down the statistics, they're probably the house with the most gay people in it, which is very odd if you think about it. I mean, come on, even Godric Gryffindor was gay!"
"What?" Regulus furrowed his brow, the movement of his facial muscles feeling almost foreign to him. "No, he wasn't."
"Oh c'mon, yes he was! Him and Salazar Slytherin? They were totally together!"
Regulus was laughing, head tilting to the side and body shaking with the laughs that were wreaking havoc inside of his body. "They were not!" He exclaimed through the fits of giggles that he had been reduced to.
"They totally were!" Rowan wasn't laughing, his voice sounding strangely serious as he continued his explanation. "Come on, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin? That's been going on for, like, forever! Sounds like it started with a lovers quarrel to me."
Regulus had rolled onto his side, arms wrapped around his stomach as he laughed, and laughed, and laughed so hard that the alcohol filling his body was at risk of centralizing in his stomach and making a reappearance. There were tears of mirth on his cheeks when he had finally stopped which he promptly wiped away. Following his laughter, there was silence. Regulus was still laying on his side, back to Rowan, and Rowan was staring up with a series of red dos that were clouding his vision. Finally, he yawned, and he spoke in a barely comprehensible voice.
"I'm gonna g'to sleep," he muttered, laying on his side and curling up with his eyes closed.
Regulus sighed and forced his eyes open. "I should probably go."
Rowan hummed and muttered a tired goodbye as Regulus forced himself to stand and shuffled his way out of the dorm room. Regulus stumbled up the stairs, body thrown off-center and mind entirely too dizzy for walking properly. He kept a hand on the wall as he walked, and he was made quite grateful for the fact that he only had to go up one flight of stairs.
When Regulus pushed his way into his own dorm room, he hiccuped and nearly fell over when he had lost the support of the wall beside him. He caught his balance on the handle of the door before he closed it, turning around and stumbling toward his bed with his eyes half-closed.
"Reg?" He recognized Barty's voice at once, and a dopey smile spread onto his face that made Barty's heart feel as though it was going to burst right out of his chest.
"Barty!" Exclaimed Regulus, voice full of a level of happiness that Barty hadn't heard there for months. Regulus opened his eyes just a bit wider so that he could see where he was going, and he stumbled over to Barty's bed. He collapsed onto it, immediately crawling up to lay his head on the pillows and slipping himself beneath the covers. Barty stayed sitting, looking at Regulus with the signature smile that only Regulus could bring on. Though, when he caught scent of the smell that was radiating off of him, the smile disappeared and was replaced with an expression of stern worry.
"Regulus, are you drunk?"
Regulus giggled under his breath and nodded. "Yup!"
Barty frowned. "Why?"
Regulus sighed. "Because I feel like a squid."
Barty couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, and Regulus couldn't help but join in. They laughed for a little bit, and then Barty stopped, and then Regulus stopped, and they were both silent. Regulus's eyes were closed, and Barty was staring at him, and he let out a quiet sigh of fondness, and the overwhelming urge to just lean down and kiss him become a bit too heavy. He looked away and cleared his throat before he gave in and did just that; he wasn't very interested in ruining their friendship.
"You know the curse?" Regulus finally asked, question so out of the blue that Barty took a moment to blink in surprise.
"Which curse?" He was cleaning up the homework that he had been doing previously, shoving everything into his bag so that he could put it on the ground beside his bed.
"The Dark Arts Against the Defense position curse!"
Barty smiled a bit and looked at Regulus with a raised eyebrow. "You mean Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Regulus lifted a heavy hand just enough to wave it dismissively. "Same thing."
Barty chuckled and dropped his bag to the ground beside his bed. "Yes, I do know it. Why?"
"How is it not broken?" He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, staring at the dark green canopy above Barty's bed.
Party sighed. "Well, we've had a different teacher for the past five years. Why would it be broken?"
Regulus was shaking his head. "Professor Bell taught us twice. He taught us our entire first year, and he also taught us at the end of third. So how is it not broken?"
Barty thought for a moment. "Well, technically, it's not. Professor Bell stopped teaching us at the end of our first year, and he started again at the end of third, right? If you put them together - add both of the times that he taught us and then subtract the days that he wasn't teaching at the end of first year - it's the exact same down to the day. So, technically, he's only ever taught us for one whole year."
Regulus looked at Barty with a dopey grin on his face. "You're so smart."
Barty smiled back, eyes soft and full of unsuppressed love that Regulus - in his drunken mind - couldn't quite make out. "Thanks."
They stared at one another for a few minutes, smiles on their faces and emotions flickering in their eyes that the other couldn't quite decipher. And then, Regulus yawned, and Barty realized how obvious he was being, and he cursed himself as he looked away and blinked a few times to clear his mind; the mind that was full of nothing but Regulus.
Regulus rolled onto his side again, pulling his knees to his chest and curling up with a quiet sigh. He was tired, but he felt like he was missing something, and he was just drunk enough to ask for it without much shame at all. He moved his face so that he was looking at Barty, eyes staying half-closed and taking in the blurry sight of the boy sitting beside him.
"Barty?" He asked sleepily, his voice alone enough to make Barty feel as though he was going to suffocate on the things that he felt for the boy.
"Yeah?" His voice was quiet so as to be sure that he didn't wake Regulus any more than he already was.
"Will you cuddle with me?" His voice held a light plead to it, and Barty's heart swelled to unimaginable sizes inside of his chest.
Barty was silent for a moment. He wanted to - Merlin, did he want to. But, he didn't know if it was the best idea in the world. For, if he experienced Regulus's touch in a way that crossed the line between romantic and platonic - such as that - he knew that it would only end badly. It would end with him being hurt because Regulus didn't feel that way about him.
But, Regulus wanted him to. And Barty was willing to do just about anything for Regulus, no matter what it did to him. Sure, it wasn't necessarily healthy. But it was something that he would have to deal with - it was something that he would deal with for Regulus.
"Please?" Regulus requested, dragging out the sound of the "e".
Barty smiled a bit and sighed, nodding his head slowly. "Yeah, of course I will."
That same grin came over Regulus's face as he muttered something that sounded quite a lot like, "Yay!" But, he couldn't necessarily be sure.
Barty closed the curtains around his bed - just to be sure - and then he laid down. He laid with his back to Regulus, and there was only a split second before Regulus's arms were snaking around his waist and his face was buried in the crook of his neck. Barty had a smile on his face that he wasn't sure he could be rid of even if he tried, and he absently curled himself into the boy behind him and wrapped his arms around himself on top of Regulus's. He closed his eyes, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to pretend. He knew that the reality would come back to him eventually - it would all come crashing down and leave him in the rubble and the dust that was left behind - but he pretended that it wouldn't. Because right then, he was in the arms of the boy that he loved, and there was absolutely no place that he would've rather been.
Regulus was in a much similar mindset. His hazy and alcohol-ridden mind was full of nothing but the all-consuming thoughts of Barty. Barty, Barty, Barty. Nothing but Barty, and Regulus wouldn't have rather had it any other way. For, in that moment, he felt weightless, and his arms were wrapped around the only person that Regulus wanted them to be around. It didn't matter that it wouldn't lead to anything - it didn't matter that the feelings were unrequited - all that mattered was that he had it then.
Regulus adjusted his face and pressed his nose against Barty's neck, inhaling and letting out a quiet sigh of contentment. "You smell nice," he muttered.
Barty sighed and hummed in response. "Thank you." He paused for a moment, his grip on Regulus's arms tightening slightly. "You smell nice, too. Well, when you don't reek of alcohol."
Regulus giggled, breath tickling Barty's neck and causing the boy to squirm a bit in his grip. Regulus took another deep breath and smiled, eyelids much too heavy to open. "You smell like... Barty."
It was Barty's turn to laugh. "Well yeah, I'd hope so."
They were quiet. Regulus had his arms around Barty, and his face was in the crook of his neck, and his breaths were tickling Barty's skin and sending shivers throughout his entire body, and they were both content. They were both right where they wanted to be, and neither was thinking of the inevitable end that was yet to come.
Barty was thinking. He was thinking about where he was, and about just what position he had found himself in. He wanted to stay like this - he never wanted to leave the arms of the boy behind him. He felt the way that his body curved and fit almost perfectly with Regulus's, and the way that Regulus's head slotted into the crook of Barty's neck, and he decided. He decided that - even if it ruined it all - Barty was willing to take the chance. Perhaps he was blinded by the feelings that were running through him, or maybe it was what he truly wanted to do. Either way, the words had spilled from his mouth before he could even realize that he was speaking at all.
"I'm in love with you."
There was silence. He had expected Regulus to withdraw his limbs - for the words to sober him up and for him to start yelling about how "Barty had ruined it". He had expected the fear of unrequited love to catch up with him and present itself in the most hurtful way.
But, that didn't happen. No movements of retraction came, and for a moment, Barty was hopeful. Did this mean that Regulus felt the same way?
Barty hadn't entirely thought out what he would do if Regulus felt the same way. Barty hadn't even fully come to terms with the fact that he was gay yet, how was he supposed to have something romantic with a boy? Regulus had already dated at least one boy, and Barty had dated none. Would Regulus not want to date him? Would Regulus see it as some stupid relationship where all he had to do was lead Barty through it because he didn't know what to do? What would happen?
As it turned out, he wouldn't have to find out. For, along with the lack of movement from Regulus, no response came. At first, Barty had just thought that it was Regulus processing the words. But, still, there was no response; only silence.
Barty furrowed his brow. "Reg?" Nothing.
He sighed quietly to himself and turned his head, trying to see Regulus. When he caught sight of the boy's face, he sighed and felt that annoying swelling of his heart. Regulus's eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and letting out deep and level breaths that indicated sleep; he was asleep. Barty had finally gotten up the courage to tell Regulus that he was in love with him, and the words had fallen onto deaf ears.
He looked at the boy, and he studied his expression, and the expression of peacefulness that was engrained into his features made Barty's chest feel warm inside. He smiled a sad sort of smile, and he kept his arms on top of Regulus's, and he sighed.
"I'm in love with you." It was a whispered phrase that he didn't think he would ever repeat aloud. But, he could say them now. And he was going to take that opportunity and use it to its fullest, hoping against hope that it would take some of the weight and the ache and the hurt away. "I am so in love with you, Regulus Black. So unbelievably in love with you."
It made it worse. It made everything so, so much worse. And he couldn't understand why, because all he knew was that it hurt. It hurt so, so much.
And he was crying. He didn't realize that he was crying until his cheeks were becoming wet and his shoulders were beginning to shake. And he simply turned around - back against Regulus's chest - and he held onto Regulus's arms, and he cried. He tried to be as quiet as he could, not wanting to wake the boy behind him. And he cried, and he cried, and he cried until he fell asleep, wrapped safely in Regulus's arms; the arms that were bringing him so much pain and yet so much warmth at the same time.
But, Barty would live. He would live with the trials and the tribulations of unrequited love, because at least he still had him at all, right?
It wouldn't be manageable forever. But, right then, it was ok. Barty would convince himself that it was ok.
Anything for Regulus Black.