Chapter Text
Sirius paced up and down the hallway of his small, two-bedroom flat. He'd already dusted everywhere, fluffed the sofa cushions, covered the dining table with a pretty cloth, picked up the underwear from his bedroom floor and made sure the front doorbell was working. But he still had this awful nagging feeling that he was missing something.
He peeped into the second bedroom, one of the sources of his anxiety. The bed was made with plain sheets, the chair was at the desk, the wardrobe was empty and there were no cobwebs where the walls met the ceiling. It was neat, pristine and completely devoid of personality. A blank canvas. Had that been the right choice? Should Sirius have decorated the room a little more carefully? It was too late to change his mind about that now, anyway—so he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
He sat down on the sofa, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his foot tapping. There wasn't anything to do but sit and wait. He glanced at the digital clock kept on a shelf. Was it a little dusty? He shook himself and made note of the time. Yeah, any minute now.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Should he open it immediately or give it a minute or two, make it seem like he hadn't been sitting around, waiting? Don't overthink it, Sirius chided himself and opened the door.
"Hello."
Regulus stood at Sirius's doorstep, still dressed in his Hogwarts uniform. He'd come here straight after getting off the train. Sirius had offered to pick him up at the station, but Regulus had wanted to travel with their old driver, Kreacher, one last time.
Sirius moved forward the same moment Regulus did, and the hug was tight and warm. They held each other for a long time, Regulus's head tucked in the crook of Sirius's neck and Sirius's arms wrapped tightly around his brother's shoulders.
Regulus had just graduated from school at eighteen, and he'd come to live with Sirius for good. He couldn't have gone to their parents' house even if he'd wanted to—they'd disowned both their wayward, queer children with disgust, and announced that their cousin's new husband would make a far better heir to the family business, anyway. Sirius had already moved out into a flat he'd got himself with the money he'd inherited from an uncle who'd recently passed; whether or not Regulus would move in with Sirius once he left school hadn't even been a question. He'd got a flat with two bedrooms for a reason, after all.
"Hi. Oh, let me look at you." Sirius pulled away and held Regulus at arm's length, looking him up and down. "Shit, you look so different."
"Good different?" Regulus asked anxiously.
"Definitely," Sirius said. They'd last seen each other a year ago, before Regulus had left for his final year of boarding school. With his inheritance, Sirius had funded hormone replacement therapy for Regulus, which he'd been taking at school for almost a year now. "Even when you said hello, I was like, whoa! Big change. It's amazing. I'm so happy for you."
Regulus's voice was deeper, sort of thicker-sounding—and it cracked a little as he laughed, delighted at his brother's words. He'd had short hair for a few years now, but it was shorter than he'd ever had it before, the shiny black waves looking more like curls. The shape of his face was different, too. His jaw was more defined, the softest shadow of stubble showing on his upper lip.
The anxiety that had been eating away at Sirius all day seemed like a distant memory as he took in his brother's smiling face. He looked like he'd had a weight lifted off his shoulders after a long, long time. He looked… free. They were both free. They were free from the horrible place they'd called home, free from having to pretend to be people they weren't.
He wrapped Regulus up in a hug again, squeezing him close.
"I'm happy to be home," Regulus murmured.
"You've never been in my flat before," Sirius replied, his voice muffled because his face was buried in Regulus's hair.
"My home is with you," Regulus said simply, and Sirius held him tighter.
Eventually, they disentangled themselves from the hug and Sirius showed Regulus around the flat. The nerves started to return as Sirius realised that the house was very… well, Sirius. The walls were covered in abstract art he'd bought at tiny, obscure exhibitions. The sofa was dark red, almost maroon, and it was so soft that he sank into it every time he sat down. The plates and bowls were mostly free handmade rejects from a local pottery studio run by a friend of Sirius's. All the clocks in the house were digital. The shower curtains had little ducks printed on them.
"You can redecorate if you like," Sirius blurted, while showing Regulus around the kitchen. "I know a lot of it isn't your taste."
Regulus looked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean? It's your house."
"It's our house," Sirius said firmly.
Regulus's cheeks flushed slightly. "I like most of the house as it is, honestly. It's very you. Nothing like where we grew up."
"…but?"
Regulus gave Sirius a look. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen," Sirius said with a frown.
"Exactly. How do you, at nineteen, not know how to read an analogue clock?" Regulus said, almost scoffing at his brother's incompetence. "I mean, honestly, not one clock with arms."
Sirius grinned. "I just don't see the point. I want to know the time, not decode what number means what."
Regulus groaned and shook his head. "Decode," he muttered as he walked out of the kitchen. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. "I want to see my bedroom."
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Sirius's bedroom door opened after a soft knock. Regulus stood in the entrance, not even half the height of the doorframe. He was in his pyjamas, blinking wordlessly at Sirius with big eyes, shining in the darkness.
"Come on, then," Sirius said and Regulus promptly crossed the room and climbed into bed with his brother. Sirius tucked the sheets around both of them neatly. "Monsters again?"
Regulus rolled over onto his side to face Sirius, who'd also rolled over. "The one with three heads, sitting on my chair."
"That's the tree outside your window making a shadow," Sirius said, with a confidence he himself did not quite feel. He was rather scared himself of the shadowy man he saw at night by his wardrobe. In the morning, of course, he knew that it was just his clothes hanger. But at nighttime, he couldn't be sure. "I've told you before."
Regulus shivered. "Yeah. You said."
"You can sleep here anyway."
"Mhm." Regulus snuggled a little closer to Sirius, tucking his head into the crook of his brother's neck. They were only a year apart, but Regulus felt so small to Sirius. "I know should be a brave girl by now. I should be able to sleep alone."
Sirius was silent for a moment. That was what Mum said. She said they were big enough to sleep in separate rooms and that it was silly to be scared. She'd snorted when Regulus had shyly brought up the idea of a nightlight once. Regulus had turned hopeful eyes towards their father, but Dad had just glanced up from his newspaper vaguely and told them to listen to their mother.
"I don't like sleeping alone, too," Sirius confessed. "And I'm bigger than you."
"You're five."
"Yes. And you're four."
Regulus nodded seriously. "Can I sleep here tomorrow, too?"
"Okay."
"And the day after that? Because you're scared," he added hastily.
"We're both scared," Sirius protested. "Yes, okay. After that, too."
"And after that and after that?"
"You can sleep here every night. If you want."
Regulus lifted his head and kissed Sirius on the cheek. It was something their old nanny used to do when she put them to bed. That was long ago, before she stopped coming home. Mum hadn't liked it—she said it'd make them soft—but both Sirius and Regulus had loved it. "Good night, Sirius."
Sirius smiled. He bent down and kissed the top of Regulus's head. "Good night."
Regulus did return the next night. And the night after that. And after that. Every night, in fact, until one morning when Mum opened the door to Sirius's bedroom and found them asleep together. She'd mocked them, called them cowardly babies who needed to grow up already, and then sent them to their lessons without breakfast, after heavily implying that she wouldn't be so lenient if she caught them out of their respective beds again. Regulus, still guilty about needing his brother's company at night in the first place, had shrunk in on himself and sworn to stay in his bed.
That night, Sirius snuck into Regulus' room instead. "Hi."
"I'm fine. You can go."
Sirius had given Regulus a look. "Well, I'm still scared. Give me room," he said and climbed into bed. Regulus had grumbled and rolled his eyes, but kissed his brother's cheek back anyway when they said good night.
Needless to say, Sirius returned every night after that, careful to set an alarm for early enough that he could run back to his bedroom before their parents were even awake.
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"Do you have any ideas for what you'll do to your room?" Sirius spoke through a mouthful of food, looking at Regulus over his plate.
"A few," Regulus said. He chewed his food carefully and swallowed before speaking again. "I'd like to change the curtains. Maybe a new chair?" He hadn't changed out of his now-wrinkled Hogwarts uniform yet. He'd spent his entire evening unpacking and organising his things.
"That sounds good."
Regulus smiled. "You're a better cook than I thought you'd be, by the way. Though I'm not sure what this—" he held his spoon close to his face and peered at it "—is, exactly."
Sirius shrugged. "It's not called anything. I just threw a bunch of leftovers into a pan and added seasoning."
Regulus's eyebrows shot up. "And that turned out this good?"
"I suppose I just have a green thumb."
"That means you're good at gardening."
"Really? I thought it meant I was good with vegetables."
Regulus snorted.
"Am I getting a room tour after dinner?" Sirius asked.
"Obviously."
Once their plates were empty, Regulus opened the door to his new bedroom with a flourish and ushered in Sirius, who entered eagerly.
He'd only occupied the room for a few hours, but it already felt like it belonged to Regulus. He'd changed the sheets to ones he used at school, with a pretty green and grey striped print. He'd stuck pictures with his friends up on the doors of the wardrobe, which he opened briefly to reveal neatly folded and organised clothes. There was a mug kept on the table, filled with pens and pencils. His suitcase had been shoved under the bed and a cosy rug with neatly arranged tassels had been laid out in the middle of the room.
"I was thinking of getting a wooden chair instead of this metal one," Regulus said. "And maybe blackout curtains? I'm fairly certain this window faces the east and I don't like waking up with the sun in my eyes… I'm also a little on the fence about fairy lights… I mean, they'd be so pretty—but everyone gets fairy lights! They're not unique anymore! I'm not sure if that's something I actually care about, though. And—"
Sirius didn't hear everything Regulus said. He caught some important phrases—like 'new sheets' and 'the bathroom is next' and 'classy lampshade'.
"I'm glad you're here," he interrupted. "Sorry—I… Sorry, you were speaking. But I'm really glad you're here."
Regulus paused, looking at his brother with an amused twist to his lips. "I'm a sight for sore eyes, huh?"
"You are," Sirius said earnestly.
Regulus eyes softened. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He just chuckled. "It's late. You should go to bed." He stepped closer and craned his neck up, standing on the tips of his toes. Sirius's breath hitched. Regulus pressed a soft kiss to his brother's cheek. "Good night."