Houses of the Holy

High and Mighty Black

TW: Negative self talk, swearing, smoking, weed? Does that count? Probably. As always, if I missed something, please do tell me. 

Cause out on the edge of darkness

There rides a peace train

Oh, peace train take this country

Come take me home again - Cat Stevens, Peace Train

Regulus

Look. He was having a bad day alright, its not entirely his fault. Barty may have suggested they skip class to go smoke some weird thing he found, called a spliff apparently. Regulus hasn't even had a cigarette before, but he agreed. He had choked and spluttered on the smoke at first, much to Barty's and Evan's amusement. He was getting better at it though, only coughing once or twice.

Everything is all a bit funny now. In the literal case, if Barty is anyone to go by, he's cackling about something that Regulus said (he doesn't remember what it was, but apparently he should be a comedian.) Floaty.

"Ev, you know, your face," Regulus thinks for a moment, "It looks like someone like.... tried to sculpt a masterpiece, but got distracted halfway through."

"Don' be stupid" Barty mumbles, "He's a bloody Greek god."

Evan preens under his boyfriend's praise, "Oh, right yes, Reg the art critic, I forgot."

"'m not an art critic, art expert actually."

"Yeah? What are you then huh?"

"I'm a Gian Lorenzo Bernini masterpiece. Pure elegance, endless flowing lines, artistry embodied. You wouldn't understand, Barty. It's too... avaunt-grade for someone who thinks setting ants on fire with a magnifying glass is the peak of creativity." Regulus says, without missing a beat.

Barty gasps, offended, and Evan pulls him close, snorting slightly, "Yeah right mate."

"We could do without the.... meanness once in a while," Barty grumbles.

Regulus sits up, curls a bit ruffled, and his tie loose around his neck, "I aim to keep you on your toes. Wouldn't want your lives to get too comfortable. Boredom breeds complacency, after all."

Evan snorts, "Big fucking words Black, use the England please and thank you."

"Oh, mais le français est bien plus amusant mon amour." Regulus says, stealing a spliff from between Barty's fingers.(Oh, but French is much more fun my love)

Barty groans, "First you speak in a whole other.... thing, an' now you're taking my sustenance, honestly."

Evan looks up at the sky, it is getting a bit darker now. "We probably should at least try and go back, I'm bloody starving."

There a general consensus, and they manage to sling their arms around each other, with Regulus in the centre, insisting that he had 'short person privileges' when in reality he was the only one who couldn't stand properly without the world spinning in front of his eyes. They walk (stumble, lets be honest) back to the castle, and in the general direction of the great hall.

"Man, I could really go a roast chicken right now." Barty says loudly as they walk into the hall.

"Shhhhhh, we're trying to be inconspicuous!" Regulus hisses, while Evan blows spit bubbles in his ear.

"Fuck, yeah, roast chicken." Evan says, making a sound that Regulus really didn't need in his ear.

They manage to get to the table, Barty only tripped over one first year on the way, nearly sending all of them onto the floor, but they made it. That's when Regulus notices how red Barty and Evan's eyes are.