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Regulus' head hit the table with a vigorous thud. The music at the bar was fast and harsh on his ears, colorful lights flickering about also didn’t do any good to the blistering headache he felt behind his eyes. Already regretting the dramatic encounter between his forehead and the wood table, he inhaled a lungful of the stale air and let it go dramatically.
“Aw, c’mon Reg! You promised to at least try to have fun this time” Pandora leaned across the table to mess with his curls, getting her hand swatted at for her troubles.
“We should’ve just let him drown in misery” Dorcas sneered, her arms around the back of Pandora’s chair, lazily nursing a glass of some rum-fruit-bullshit concoction; it was her third that night and Regulus didn’t understand how she could keep her pace whilst seemly unaffected by the heaps of alcohol.
“You guys can go do couple-y things if you want, you know? I don’t need a babysitter”
“I would think myself more of a watchdog when it comes to you, Pots” Pandora took his glass of vodka cranberry from him. The nickname was an annoying thing Barty came up with to call Regulus and Pandora, Pots and Pans, because they come as a set. Regulus never did mind it before, yet now on his drunken state, it made him miss his ex so much more.
Pandora and Dorcas got up from the table to dance a little after that, Dora leaving him with a kiss on the crown of the head, Cas with a little head shove.
The past two weeks have been hell for him. It was finals season of his senior year at college, he was homesick—which was a complicated affair, he had a falling out with Walburga and Orion when he was 17, but things changed when Narcissa told him his mother was sick. He tried to reconnect with her and surprisingly she was willing to rebuild that bridge, even arranging for him to visit her back in France in his sophomore year. The problem was his father, who wasn’t as forgiving, keeping him banned from Grimmauld still—and Barty seemed weirdly distant in the past couple months.
Matters got oh so much worse when he arrived home after his last final on Friday to a letter addressed to him sitting on his bedside table with his boyfriend’s handwriting on it. Barty’s words rambled about how he could not do this facing Regulus or else he would cave, how he did love Regulus but felt like their time together was over, how he still valued his friendship and given time he expected they could still be- blah blah blah. Bullshit.
If Regulus was actually valued and respected, Barty wouldn’t have had the impulse to do this in the most insane, detached way. When did anything ever hold Barty’s tongue back? When did he mince his words? He was never able to lie to Regulus’ face, writing some rubbish letter filled with nothing save for void platitudes was his best attempt at it.
Regulus missed him like a phantom limb, like part of his soul was cut clean from the rest. The urge to text Barty demanding answers was consuming his every waking hour, which had dramatically increased lately since his bed felt too empty and cold without the furnace, also known as Barty’s body, running scorching hot beside him. Pandora has been trying to make him leave the house more, dragging him along to bars, movie theaters and her and Dorcas’ apartment every other day in hopes to distract him long enough to make his head clearer, even though it was no use. He spent every thought on the letter, feeling the emptiness inside him be reflected by his left side, where his boyfriend used to occupy pressing him against his body, right arm looped around Regulus’ shoulders to reach the right side of his head and play with black curls. The dismissal was as revolting as it was demeaning, to be considered weak by the one person who never pulled their punches, especially when it came to him, infuriated him. He missed Barty, still his absence made way for an anger Regulus hadn’t felt since he was a child; betrayal was something he was accustomed to due to his childhood, but his friends—his family were a balm for that wound he thought had been permanently closed, only to be reopened by fingers that normally soothed the scars.
“Hello?” The raspy voice shook him out of the spiral he was succumbing to. The grainy texture added to it was odd but not unfamiliar. Regulus had called Barty without noticing and the bastard had actually picked up.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” It came out without intention, like most words did when he was around Barty.
It took a few breaths for him to get a response, and the voice became slightly stained when it answered “What I thought was best”
“Oh, you’re stupider than people give you credit for” Regulus scoffed, his throat felt drier by the second
“Are you at a club right now?” Weak attempt at deflection there
“Like you give a fuck. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking to ever believe otherwise” He was laughing now, head tilted to the ceiling like some divine force was able to pull him out of this situation
“Reg, you know that’s not true” Huh. Barty’s voice was wobbly, like he was talking through tears. Odd. 11 years that they knew each other, countless traumas dealt with together and Regulus had never listened to or even seen Barty cry
“Why else would you do this? I don’t understand. We were fine, we had plans, and you threw it all to shit with some stupid letter, using words we both know aren’t what you think. I just want to know why”
It took Barty so much time to say anything, Regulus had to check his phone screen to confirm that he had not been hung up on.
“I-” he had to clean his throat to continue “I’m everything you know, Regulus. You deserve to know better, greater things like yourself” It came out almost as a whisper, like a secret nobody else was supposed to know was extracted by force.
“And you made that decision based on what? Tea leaves? Stupidest thing I’ve listened to all year, you surpassed Sirius-level-stupidity right there Crouch, congrats!” He knocked the last of his drink and walked out of the bar, abandoning a coat for the heat he felt spreading across his body.
“You deserve better” Barty’s words were chocked
“Christ alive, Bartemius! There is nothing better! You are It! I don’t want anyone else, if you had given me the chance to say that when you chose to break us off you would’ve known that. I never have wanted anything in this life as much as I want you, being a part of the past two weeks has been hell, can you cut this very out of character little breakdown short and just talk to me” He was surprised by how that came out in a single breath. Maybe he was a bit tipsy. Just a tad bit.
“Where are you?” His voice didn’t waiver, sounding more confident through the cold phone pressed to Regulus’ ear.
“I don’t know. Some club in Soho. Ask Dorcas”
“Give me 20 and gather your things” Barty sounded more confident, his voice didn’t waiver that much
“You’re not the boss of me” He was already going back inside to grab his coat and pay his tab. The phone became quiet, signaling that this time he had been hung up on. Prick.
The music in the bar had shifted from something bass heavy and annoying into a song that was more pop than EDM. As soon as he got to their unattended table, Dorcas approached him with a knowing look.
“We saw you getting up looking all angry but couldn’t see exactly where you were headed. Panda’s looking by the bar” She had yet another cup of the rum monstrosity in her hands, and a sway in her step that he had not noticed 15 minutes ago.
“I’m heading out, I’ll try to reach her by the bar” he said, already turning to his left
Dorcas stopped him with a gentle hand on his elbow “Hey, Reggie? Don’t do anything stupid”
“Wouldn’t dream of it Cas” He smiled at her, maybe for the first time in the past two tortuous weeks.
Tab paid, Pans kissed and reassured, all that was left was the familiar black sports car parked near the curb on the other side of the street from the bar’s main entrance. He didn’t notice that the air on the outside was so much cooler than the inside the first time that he exit, now without the blanket of anger and the alcohol slightly dimmed by the water bottle Pandora shoved in his hand before he left, it was impossible to not note. The lights signaled red on the slow traffic street, but he still looked both ways before crossing the street and opening the passenger seat door.
Inside, the first thing he noticed was the familiar smell of smoke, oud and berries combined from Barty’s favorite perfume, next was the warmth inside the car—which reflected the feeling inside Regulus’ chest by the sight of soft brown hair and hazel eyes enhanced by the now green stoplight. It was conflicting, looking at his ex-boyfriend; with every inhale his heart swelled with love, with every exhale it shrank in pain; his hands ached with the need to reach and touch something that was not his anymore, his body tensed in the presence of the man by his side for the first time since they met.
Barty had not looked his way yet, hands clinched on the steering wheel like it was a lifeline. A purple hue adorned the underside of his beautiful eyes, sclera tinged red and eyelids puffy from crying. He appeared more disheveled than usual, without the put togetherness he seemed to favor, the vision making Regulus’ chest hurt more, the broken heartiness now two-fold, mirrored by Barty.
He started the car and Regulus could only stare, trying to will the man to speak using only his mind, God knows he will not be the one to break the silence a second time. Barty took them to his place without opening his mouth or looking directly at him, but stealing glances Regulus would have missed if he wasn’t so adamant about staring. They were both quiet on the elevator ride to the fifth floor, quiet when Barty opened the door, and somehow quieter when entering the apartment. Regulus could wait, he will not make the first move again, he will not beg or make more of a scene, he will wait and see what the dumbass beside him will do and act accordingly.
It took Barty a good five minutes of silent debating with himself to make a choice, signaling Regulus to sit on the large leather couch they usually used on movie nights with the rest of their friends, choosing to perch himself on the coffee table across from it. When he finally looked Regulus in the eyes, the whole world seemed to hold its breath.
“I don’t know how to do this”
“Well, you already broke up with me once. I’m sure you can do it again” Barty faintly winced at the remark
“Do you want me to do that?”
“Good God, Barty, no! I want you to talk, say whatever reason you thought was good enough to dump me through a fucking piece of paper” It was very difficult for Regulus’ self-restraint to be broken, but Barty did so with ease
“I already said it on the phone, you deserve better, Reg. I can’t be weighing you down, you have a bright future already lined up for you and I don’t fucking know what I want with my life. You can go to France; you can go to wherever the fuck your career takes you without having to take the burden of your good-for-nothing boyfriend getting in the way.”
“Where did that even come from? You are the smartest person I know; whatever future you want for yourself you know you will be able to get it. Those are not your words, Barty, they are your father’s. The man has been dead for 5 long, glorious years, you can bury them along with his putrid corpse.” Was that it? Old insecurities Regulus thought Barty had gotten over when they were teenagers?
Barty opened and closed his mouth a few times; brows coming together in what looked like a painful scowl. His voice was hoarse when he said “What if I never figure it out? Your life is already moving places I’m afraid I can’t follow, what if you go too far for me to reach?”
The physical distance between them was too great for Regulus to bear at that moment, so he did the only logical thing and breached it. Pale fingers met the soft short strands splayed on Barty's neck; lips brushed softly together like so many times before, it felt like a greeting, a hi in response to a hello, it felt like homecoming. All the anger he felt was turned into understanding, the fear of being left behind was nothing new for Regulus, it was never his intention to inflict that on anyone else, especially the one person he always wanted alongside him.
They rested there for a minute; eyes closed, foreheads touching, breaths in sync. Regulus pulled his hands from Barty’s neck and cupped the man’s face instead “If you don’t, you don’t. There is nothing wrong with that, but don’t act like I’m heading somewhere unreachable for you. I would never leave you behind. I want you by my side, you fool. Don’t be too stuck in your own head to think anything else.”
Barty halfheartedly hummed. Regulus tugged on his hair until his eyes opened.
“I’m serious Barty. If you don’t believe my words, I can show you instead. Will you stick around for that?”
“Will you let me, after this mess?” Hope bloomed like a shy little thing on his chest
“I wouldn’t offer it otherwise, love” A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. Regulus righted himself to look directly at Barty’s face. Hazel met gray and if Pandora was there, she would’ve said they were mooning over each other. Barty was the one to break the small gap between them this time, warm hands caressing cold cheeks to pull them close. Teeth awkwardly clanked together in the desperation of the act, yet that was okay, the rhythm they took was like breathing.
The world fell back on its axis; the sun was allowed to rise again in a few hours, the stars could make themselves known in the sky above and the moon was welcome to shine through the western window. Barty was his again, and Regulus will make sure that this fact won’t ever change. The hurst was not forgotten, talks still had to be had, but they were safe to lick their wounds in each other's arms; Regulus will make sure that does not change for the rest of their lives.