Regulus’ Relationship With Touch Is, To Put It Mildly… Complicated.

Regulus’ relationship with touch is, to put it mildly… complicated.

At a surface level, he hates it. In second year when he makes the quidditch team an older boy claps him on the shoulder to congratulate him, and he has to lock his knees to stop them buckling in an attempt to get as far away as fast as possible. Pandora is nice, he supposes, in a sly way he thinks is as much artifice as his own blank politeness, but every time she pulls him into a hug it makes his skin crawl. In fourth year his first kiss is with Barty, both of them tipsy in the dorm they share with four other boys, and Barty takes his face in clammy hands and lays a wet, messy kiss upon his mouth; and, well, it sucks. Not just because they’re fourteen with no idea what they’re doing, but because all it stirs in Regulus is that same uncomfortable prickling, and the desire to shuffle away, and wrap up in his bed sheets so no one is able to touch him any more.

(He spent a long time growing to understand that touch = pain, that his mother’s fingers on his jaw were sharp and bruising, that whenever his father put a hand on his shoulder it was heavy and controlling. Sirius stopped holding his hand when they played together after he turned seven; by the time he starts Hogwarts, he doesn’t remember whether that felt nice or not, and Sirius never touches him any more in a manner that could help him figure that out.)

Beneath that, though, he craves it. Sleep comes uneasily to Regulus, but when he lays his head in Dorcas’ lap and she strokes her fingers through his hair it’s the easiest thing to drift off, for once free of dreams. Pandora - who watches, and learns, and figures Regulus out before even he knows what’s wrong with him - wraps an arm around his waist, gentle pressure with her palm steady against his ribs, and he melts into her side. The second time Barty kisses him, when they’re a little older and understand a little better what they’re doing, he keeps his hands to himself, and his mouth is soft and obliging, and Regulus actually enjoys the string of chaste, gentle kisses.

(He does figure it out, eventually. Not that it’s not what it appears at the surface too, his being touch-adverse but also touch-starved, a complicated and uncomfortable mixture of wanting so badly for someone to touch him but then wanting to rip off his skin the second they do; but it’s also about the kind of touch. Regulus can’t stand heavy pressure, can’t stand to be confined or constricted or moved against his will. Pandora changes tactics as soon as she figures that out; and then she talks to the rest of Regulus’ friends about how to touch him in ways he’s comfortable with.)

The Marauders shouldn’t be good at working around this. They’re brash and loud and pushy, and James has spent years ignoring Lily Evans’ carefully established boundaries, pursuing her harder with every piss off; but they’re actually better at it than most.

Remus never touches Regulus without first asking, and when he’s granted permission he always approaches things carefully. He never holds onto Regulus, only leads him if he’s trying to show him something, and it’s nice when he nudges their shoulders together, the pressure gentle but warm, solid.

Peter doesn’t talk to him very much, but he holds Regulus’ hand sometimes. Not with interlocked fingers - because Regulus cannot stand that - but palm to palm, thumbs crossed, Peter’s hand warm and dry against Regulus’ own.

James Potter is infuriating. James pokes at him, and wraps his arm around his shoulders, and laughs into Regulus’ shoulder and against his cheek, and when he’s tired will sometimes lean his forehead against the nape of Regulus’ neck while he complains; but it’s… fine, for some reason. Regulus is still trying to figure out why that is.

Sirius still never touches him; and it’s not until after he’s run away that Regulus finally figures out that it’s because he’s scared of hurting him, of making him flinch away the way he did from Bellatrix when they were small, or from almost everyone else that first year he was at Hogwarts.

Regulus huffs in irritation after Remus is done telling him, and storms up to his brother, and wraps his arms around his waist in a tight hug with his cheek pressed to his chest.

Just ask me what’s okay, idiot, he mutters against him; and when Sirius tentatively wraps his arms around his shoulders, gentle enough that Regulus doesn’t feel trapped, he hugs him tighter.