Chapter Text
James Potter had been lost, and he hadn't known where to go, not for a very long time, but now he did. He knew exactly where he was. Right here in his favourite person’s arms. If it were up to him, and he wasn't just saying this, he would never leave.
When he lost his mother two years ago, he expected he would live a good life, even with one parent. He thought he'd get through it. But grief was so much worse than he'd ever thought it could be, and he lost himself, and everyone around him, so rapidly it was terrifying.
Regulus hated him, then. James was sure of it. He couldn't blame him, James had been in a rabbit hole full of poisons and drugs most people would never hear of, and his eyes had been so very red, and Regulus couldn't bear the look of his face so dead.
So yes, James had lost someone very important to him, only months after his mother passed, and it made things worse, but it was his fault. When Regulus slammed the door shut that afternoon, and James still can't tell you what date it was, because he'd been so out of it, less than a week passed (if he remembers correctly through the haze), before he decided he was being a child, and it needed to stop.
But Regulus was gone for good, and he wouldn't be able to track him, not with a cracked phone and no memory of the past months, so James began to walk.
It became his thing, in a sense. He would just continue to walk, and through the bad nights he'd walk into a grocery store and look at the snacks and buy whatever he wanted, anything to keep him out of the state that pushed everyone away.
He didn't sleep as much, and he got better. But an addiction won't just go away, and for all he tried, he couldn't stop himself from going back to old habits. His eyes would get red again, and his pupils blown, and he'd stand in the mirror and try to recall the schoolboy version of him that no one could get enough of.
They'd thought he was attractive, and he was. Well, he had been. He mourned the old James, the one Regulus used to love. So he tried again. It took so long.
The thing about addictions is they never go away, not ever, and if you dip your foot in the water you'll always miss the cool wave, even after you're back on dry land.
You'll run back to the water some days, with an eagerness that cannot be stopped, and some days you'll fight every second to stay on the fucking ground. It's a problem and it will haunt you for every day remaining in your life, just because you tried it once.
Some days, and these are rare but valuable, you'll enjoy the sand and the rocks and the trees that lie far, far away from the water. Those days will increase in frequency until the water rarely visits your memory. But it never goes away.
Today had been a day where James missed the drugs, and his body itched to find an empty alley and pull his strings and get a small baggy of whatever he would find.
But Regulus would always be his knight in shining armour, really, and he stumbled into him on the pavement, and he let out a sigh of relief.
“James?”
“Regulus.” James croaked and his voice was hoarse from lack of use, and the patched feeling the withdrawals gave him.
The man in front of him scowled, but he could never leave well enough alone.
“Fucking hell.” He muttered, and pulled him into an embrace that said everything each of them needed to know. It had been over 15 months, neither had seen the other, and James had fully believed he'd never get him back.
“What are you doing here? Why do you look like that?” James asked him, his voice reverting back to the ways it always talked to Regulus. A tone different from what everyone else heard. It was a tone of caring and awe. Even when he was the one who needed caring for.
“Wha-, me?” Regulus blanched.
James nodded, confused.
“James, have you taken a look at yourself? Sorry, but you look like shit.”
“I feel like it too, by the way. And I know it's my own fault so keep it to yourself, thanks.” James said with a low voice. He was already itching again.
It wouldn't help, but his fingers scratched at his arms anyways. Nails bitten to the quick, it hardly did anything for the aching feeling inside of him that was screaming for something new in his bloodstream.
Regulus' face softened. He grabbed James’ hand, and he looked at his nails, and the skin ripped from the sides, and the bloody knuckles.
“What do you need?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Oh alright. Well, I won't leave you to it. Come on.”
Now, James knew he knew. Regulus was very aware of what he wanted, probably right from the start, judging by the street they were in. But he hadn't expected him, not in a million years, to grab him by the crook of his elbow and walk back down the cobbled pavement, and begin to talk.
“How long?”
James knew this man like the back of his hand.
“6 weeks, I promise.”
“What's the longest you went?”
“This is the longest I went.”
Regulus frowned, a mix of annoyance and pride coursing through his eyes.
“Why not keep the streak?”
“I'm so tired.”
“Oh, it's as if everyone else is just peachy. James, get this shit into your head, listen. No matter how horrible it gets, you can't go back to those habits.”
Regulus has never known what James used, only that he used it. A secret James kept for the sanity of the two of them, back in the day.
“I've been addicted too. My brother too. I'm pretty sure lots of people have that itch you talk about, James. I haven't ever seen your arms so red from the scratching, but I'm so glad it's not your eyes. Keep it that way.”
Regulus never needed to talk much. James got it.
“Did you find me?”
“No. Fate did, you bloody idiot.” Regulus grinned and shoved him down the street.
“Really?” James said, and for the first time that week, a smile forced its way onto his face, and Regulus has missed him.
“Yeah, I didn't do anything. I was here for fresh air.”
“Aren't you mad at me?”
“No,” Regulus pulled him into another hug, and whispered into his ear, “I never was.”
“Why'd you leave then?” James pulled out of the hug, and kept his hands on Regulus’ waist.
“I had a meeting with Sirius, and you'd been making me mad, so I left. Didn't mean to slam the door that hard, but I came back a few hours later and you were gone. Your phone was off too. Sure, I panicked, but I knew if it was meant to be then it wouldn't take long.”
“Addiction doesn't go away, Reg. If this is us getting back together, you need to know that. It's not gonna be easy.”
“You made it six weeks. Just do that over and over again. Soon enough it's a year. Then two. You know what I mean.”
“Sure.” James laughed and his eyes sparkled, and Regulus fell in love all over again.
They hadn't walked far, most of the conversation being in place, but now they took off again, in a direction James didn't recognize.
“The skies are so grey today, right?”
“Not the fucking weather, seriously?” Regulus grumbled.
“Alright then. What have you been doing for the last year and a half?”
Regulus stopped. He hovered his hand near James' face, and he only nodded, so subtle anyone else wouldn't have seen it. He held James’ chin, and brought it ever so slightly downwards.
“Thinking of you.” He whispered, right next to his ear, and his lips brushed his lobe as he pulled away. James’ eyes darkened as he looked into Regulus' face, and could possibly think of something better than drugs.
“No job, nothing?” James asked innocently.
“Nope. They were able to kick Sirius out of Alphard’s inheritance, and I got it all. Then I left. I've been looking for you ever since. I have an idea.”
“Hm?” James prompted.
“Do you have anything to do?”
James only looked at him, rolling his eyes. He gestured around himself.
“Day by day, Reg. I don't even talk to people anymore.”
“Right. So you're free?” He smirked at him.
“For you, always.” James said.
“How’d you make the money though?”
“Someone in my family died too, remember?” James looked at him.
“Right. How's your dad dealing with that?”
“He’s alright. It's okay, Reg, what was your idea?”
“I've been walking a lot. It keeps my brain thinking and my muscles moving. It's all I've really done. I never go anywhere in cars, or trains. I just walk. I was hoping you'd want to come with me, on a little bit of a trip, really.”
“Where? Well I mean, I'm coming anyways, I've got nothing better to do. I’m not as addicted as I used to be. But where?”
“You'll come?” Regulus' eyes lifted in an expression of relief.
“Yeah, Reg. I'd follow you anywhere.”
“I know we're in boring old Glasgow, but we could walk ‘round Asia?”
“Where in Asia?”
“All of it.”