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Regulus threw his head back, leaning it on the shoulder of the man behind him, exposing the pale column of his throat. His arms were draped behind the man's neck, and there were broad hands on his hips guiding their movement as they swayed to the beat of the music. The man’s hips swayed with his own, as they stayed pressed firmly against each other. The pair of them undoubtedly made an almost pornographic scene, dancing on one of the only coffee tables that hadn’t been dragged out of the Ravenclaw’s common room for the party. Regulus couldn’t even remember why the Ravenclaws were having a party, but his blood was thrumming with the comfortable warmth of firewhiskey and he couldn’t be bothered to actually care.
“Fuck Reg, you’re such a tease,” The man, Barty, groaned in his ear. Regulus rewarded him with a slow grind of his hips. “You’re far too good at this. Some pure and noble heir you are.” They both knew Regulus was anything but pure and noble, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed at Barty for saying it.
“Would you shut up? I’m trying to focus,” Regulus hissed, not stopping his movements or his search of the crowd. Barty snickered, undoubtedly planning to say something idiotic, and Regulus responded by subtly stomping on his foot.
“Ow, prick . I’m doing you a favor right now, you should be nice,” Barty whined. Regulus knew him well enough he didn’t have to look at him to know he was pouting. Despite his actions, Regulus couldn't bring himself to be truly annoyed. The pounding of the bass matched his heartbeat, and the strobe lights the Ravenclaws had enchanted were doing wonders to make it feel like a club he’d seen on TV in his Muggle Studies class. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol, especially there at the center of the dance floor. There was an electricity in the air, the mixing of so many different types of magic that swirled around the students, heightened like the students themselves were. It was exhilarating, doing almost as much as the firewhiskey to blur the clarity at the edges of his thoughts.
His position on the table meant he was high enough above the crowd that Regulus could feel the gaze of a familiar pair of eyes. It sent goosebumps down his arms, stirring a familiar heat in his stomach that mixed with the almost overwhelming sensations of the party brilliantly.
“Oh yeah, you’re really going out of your way,” Regulus rolled his eyes, “We both know putting on a show for Evan gets you off more than anything else, whore.” It was true, and they both knew it. This was hardly the first time he’d been pressed against Barty like this. They had been each other’s first, evolving from sloppy handjobs when they were first figuring out their sexualities to proper shagging once they were confident enough. Regulus knew Barty’s kinks and such nearly as well as he knew his own.
They had never dated, not even close. Regulus had never been in a relationship and didn’t plan too if he could help it. Eventually he had talked Barty into confessing to Evan, putting himself out of his misery after years of Barty pining. He did occasionally mourn the loss of their friends-with-benefits relationship. Only because it was nearly impossible to find a partner who understood him as well as the man who helped him explore himself. Overall Regulus was happy with his friends' relationship, even if they were positively disgusting. It helped that he was occasionally invited to play with the pair. Barty was a needy little switch, and Evan never hesitated to enlist Regulus in helping meet those needs.
And sometimes, like right now, he helped Barty drive Evan mad. Evan was rather possessive, a fact that Barty adored and loved to exploit. He didn’t mind sharing with Regulus, but only on his terms, and certainly not so publicly. Barty was aiming to get fucked and fucked up tonight, and Regulus was happy to assist. After all, he was getting something out of this as well.
“ I’m the whore? You’re doing exactly what I am, if not worse,” Barty scoffed, sliding one of his hands beneath Regulus’ shirt. He managed to lift the fabric enough to show the toned lines of his stomach that when followed would lead straight to his cock. The sight was cut off far before then, though the low-rise leather trousers Regulus was wearing failed to leave much to the imagination.
He’d worn this particular outfit on purpose, forgoing his usual sweater and slacks in favor of the pants that hugged his thighs and ass sinfully, a pair of heeled boots he’d swiped from Barty’s closet, and his favorite part. A tight, emerald green, intricate lace dress shirt that he left unbuttoned far enough to show off his sharp collar-bones. Not that the buttoned part did much to hide the rest of his chest, the lace was practically see-through. The shirt was meant to be worn over something, which was how he normally wore it. He felt a bit ridiculous when he’d put the outfit on. His mother would likely keel over from a heart attack if she ever saw him wear something like this, but he was showing off for a reason. And if he was going to dress up for a stupid party, he was going to do so properly. It went farther than just the revealing outfit. Rather than slicked back like normal his hair was left loose and messy, curling at the nape of his neck and falling just below his brow. It was further disheveled thanks to Barty running his hands through it. Regulus had even allowed Pandora to put black eyeliner and red lip stain on him before he’d left.
“I never said you were the only one of us who’s a whore. Honestly, Barty, try thinking with your upstairs brain for once,” Regulus shot back, but it was distracted. He’d lost sight of the reason he was putting on this whole show in the first place. He was there for a reason, he reminded himself, even if it was easy to lose himself in the sensations of the party. Soft lace against his skin contrasting the tight leather, Barty’s hands running across his body being followed by watchful eyes from strangers, the pounding of the music. It was thrilling, the kind of thing that would make his ancestors turn in their graves, and he had to be careful not to get sucked in. Focus. His eyes scanned the room, searching for unruly brown hair or the garish red sweater he’d been eyeing all evening.
“He's over by the drink table,” Barty said, turning them slightly so Regulus could see better, “Honestly, I don’t know why you won’t just talk to him,” He sighed, for about the thousandth time. The entirety of the group of idiots who’d attached themselves to him in first year and refused to leave him alone since, (or his “friend group” as they called themselves,) had been saying the same thing since Regulus had concocted this plan a week or so prior.
“You know why I can’t, Barty,” Regulus frowned. It was simple, and it was not his fault Barty was too dense to understand it. In fact, it wasn’t his fault that none of his friends seemed to be able to comprehend his current situation.
“Right. He’s the golden boy of Gryfindor tower, your brother’s best mate, and one of your worst enemies,” Barty listed in the same tone he recited History of Magic notes. Bored and utterly disinterested. “If all of those things are such an issue, why exactly are you going out of your way to fuck with him?”
“Because he needs to learn to mind his own business, Bartemus, keep up.” As if it were that simple. There were many reasons why Regulus was doing this, and he wanted to explain a total of zero of them to anyone, especially not the blabbermouth that was Barty.
“Yeah. Definitely not because you’ve had a raging crush on him since we were thirteen,” Barty said, voice heavy with sarcasm. Regulus felt his face heat up at the accusation, a fact he was more than content to blame on the alcohol. That was another ridiculous theory his idiotic friends had concocted, all because Regulus had zoned out in his general direction once. Maybe twice, at absolute most.
“I don’t have ‘crushes’. They are juvenile and make things too complicated,” Regulus huffed. He’d said it a million times. Relationships and crushes were things that normal teens got, meaning they were entirely out of the realm of possibility for him. Arranged marriage and all that. And he did not fancy anyone, especially not the worst Gryffindor in the history of Hogwarts. Yet, for some reason he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, his friends had convinced themselves he had some sort of secret crush on the second biggest red and gold thorn in his side.
Barty seemed to have decided to hold his tongue for once, allowing Regulus to resume his search of the crowd. He kept up the sinful movement of his body, dragging one hand down from its place around Barty’s shoulder and slowly traced down his own body with it. He finally caught sight of the person he’d been searching for, over by the punch where Barty had said he’d be. Dark brown eyes were locked on him, drinking in his every movement like a dying man drinking water in the desert. Regulus smirked to himself. Got him . He closed his eyes, bringing his attention back to putting on a show. The man in question had been watching him for a long time regardless, he may as well have something good to watch.
Regulus had noticed the attention at the first party he’d attended that semester. He usually refused to attend, claiming they were a waste of time (because they were , he had far more important things to focus on), but he’d been frustrated and wanted to find a way to blow off steam. And that night, he didn’t care if it was with firewhiskey or a random hook-up. He kept the latter as infrequent as possible, lest rumors of his sexuality and extramarital affairs somehow reach his parents. Or worse, his insufferable brother. The party was held by Hufflepuff, meaning it was neutral territory and he could attend without incurring the wrath of any Gryfindor. Which was good, because his brother and his lackeys were there. Regulus did his best to avoid them, as per usual, but he felt eyes on him all night.
He’d assumed at first it was Sirius. Sirius was always watching him, even if he thought Regulus didn’t notice. He seemed to think he needed to protect him. He was obviously wrong, Regulus had never needed him before. Not when they were kids, and especially not now, after Sirius ran away leaving him to deal with their parents alone. After he abandoned him to deal with the darkness that was ever growing as whispers of a war grew louder. Regulus was perfectly capable of protecting himself. Of doing what it would take to survive. Sirius didn’t seem to understand this, and always found some reason to keep an eye on him anyways, even if it was from a ‘safe’ distance. But it couldn’t have been him. Regulus saw Sirius leave the party early, his boyfriend in tow, and he still felt the stare.
His next assumption was someone was planning on attacking him. It wouldn’t have been the first time, the other houses had been openly hostile to him purely on the basis of his last name as of late, even though he didn’t believe the hogwash his parents and their affiliates spouted. He was just doing what he had to survive, like they were all trying to do. Even if that meant temporarily having some unfortunate associations with particularly unsavory individuals until he could successfully change his parents' minds. Even if it meant fighting a war he never wanted to wage. It was the situation many Slytherins found themselves in, especially his own friends. But of course, none of the other students cared about that. They just wanted a face to put to the enemy. So an attack wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.
But that too was debunked, if only because he found out the actual source of the stare. Regulus had been in the middle of snogging a random Hufflepuff boy when the door to the dorm he'd found himself in had slammed open. He’d gone back to the boys room in order to avoid confrontation, but apparently trouble was bound to follow him wherever he went. The Hufflepuff took one look at the person who’d so rudely interrupted and practically fled, as if news of their rendezvous would make it back to Sirius and he’d suddenly turn up bald (or worse.) Which, to be fair, wasn’t that far off of an assumption when it came to Sirius and his merry band of life ruiners. Regulus had stared into those brown eyes, waiting for an explanation or an apology. He got neither, instead the boy just left as quickly as he’d appeared. And after that night, it seemed trouble wasn’t the only thing following him.
Since then, Regulus had felt the familiar stare anytime he was in the same place as the Gryffindors. The Great Hall, the Library, the quidditch pitch. Hell, even his classes weren’t safe. He shouldn’t have had to deal with it there, but unfortunately his mother had thrown a fit with the school until he was allowed to be moved up a year, even if it was in classes only. He couldn't begin to fathom the reason behind it, and he was not going to believe it was because his mother genuinely thought he was advanced enough to move up. Regardless of the reason, he had to attend classes the year above his actual year level, thanks to his lovely mother, meaning he was in many of the same courses as his apparent stalker.
He hadn’t been able to figure out why he was being watched for ages. Did his brother’s friends suspect he’d taken the dark mark? Was he being watched out of his brother’s concern, or out of fear he was a threat? It had to be something along those lines. What other reason would the man have for following his every movement behind the thick lenses of his stupid glasses? He was babysitting Regulus, whether it was for Sirius’ benefit or the “safety of society.”
Except, there was another option. A far more interesting one. See, after the interruption with the Hufflepuff, another hook-up had been interrupted. And another. And then another. Almost any time Regulus was about to get laid, the same boy found some way to disrupt it. He’d wondered if maybe it was somehow at Sirius’ request, another attempt to keep him ‘innocent’ in his brother’s eyes. It was the type of thing he’d request, and Merlin knew that his friends would do just about anything he requested. So, he’d chalked it up to Sirius forcing purity culture on him like their parents had.
But then he’d seen the way he was being looked at. Hungry brown eyes trailing down his body, taking more time each time he was caught in the act. Instead of fleeing immediately in shame, he stayed longer each time to take in the sight of Regulus freshly blue-balled. Maybe this wasn’t about his brother at all. Maybe it was about his brother’s best mate’s own desires. Regulus knew what it felt like to be looked like because someone wanted him. Of course he recognized that that was an absolutely absurd theory. This was a Marauder he was talking about after all. It was far more likely it was some weird self-sacrificing act of service to his brother, or for the sake of Hogwarts or some other ridiculously 'noble' act. But something in him refused to believe that. Maybe it was the way those eyes felt better on him than any actual sex he’d ever had. Maybe it was a desire to get something he wasn’t supposed to have. Or maybe…maybe it was the small part of him he’d been trying to kill since he was thirteen.
It was a risky assumption, but one Regulus was going to run with either way.
Because Regulus wanted the boy back. He didn’t fancy him, but he was definitely attracted to him. He had been since before he knew what lust was, before his hook-ups with Barty, before he even knew he was queer. How could he not be? Tanned skin, unruly brown hair, strong muscles, sharp jawline, crooked smile. He was practically every gay teen’s wet dream, and probably most straight ones’ too (not that Regulus would have any idea what those looked like.)
So, Regulus had put his plan into place. All he had to do was show up to this party looking positively delicious, put on a little show with Barty, and either get laid or get the boy alone long enough to get him off his back so he could shag someone else. It was clear that the man in question was intent on ruining any chance Regulus had to get laid, and it was highly unlikely he would let this display slide. Even if he did, Regulus would still have a better chance of figuring out his motives. If he didn't interrupt it, then it wasn't for Sirius' benefit, or some misplaced jealousy. It was because he thought Regulus was a danger to everyone but his own housemates. If he did...Well, Regulus hadn't though too much about where he would go from there.
If he was honest, he was a bit nervous. Nervous about being wrong, but more nervous about possibly being right. But he couldn’t push this off. It had to be this party because Sirius, along with both Lupin and Pettigrew, had detention and therefore would be out of his way. Of course, the only reason they all had detention was because Regulus had put them there. It wasn’t even difficult, a simple bombarda cast on the staircase the three happened to be on. Easy enough for the staff to repair, he’d hate to give them too much trouble, but still enough to get the three out of his way for the night. Obviously everyone had assumed it was them. Why wouldn’t they? And who would listen when Sirius tried to blame his innocent younger brother? That’s the trouble with taking credit for your mischief. Everyone blames you when something happens. It was much easier to operate quietly , a fact Regulus knew all too well.
Regulus opened his eyes, seeking out the garish red sweater, but his eyes caught on a different red. The flaming hair of a certain Gryffindor girl. Lily Evans. She was one of the more tolerable Gryffindors, they’d had to work together on a few occasions as prefects, and it was honestly surprising she was even at this party. Evans had always come across as far too uptight for this sort of thing. She was leaned against a wall, cup held tight in her hand. She seemed far more than tipsy, the red of her face nearly matching her hair, and Regulus was surprised she was managing to stay upright, even with the wall doing most of the work supporting her. Next to her, far too close to her, was the very man he was trying to gain the attention of. She was quickly becoming far less tolerable. Regulus watched intently as Evans leaned up, nearly tripping over herself, and pressed herself right into the very space Regulus was supposed to be occupying, distracting the man Regulus was supposed to have the attention of.
Everything seemed to slow down as brown eyes dropped from him to the redhead. Strong arms steadied Evans, one sliding around her waist to support her. Regulus felt a sharp wave of jealousy. Not because he wanted to be in Evans’ place, but because he looked far too good to lose the attention of Gryfindor’s stupid prince charming. Evans was a surprising, and severely irritating, wrench in his plan. Everyone knew she couldn’t stand parties, and that she detested Sirius and his gang of Marauders (with the exception of Lupin) even more.
“Kiss me,” Regulus demanded, turning to face Barty. His friend blinked slowly, like he was coming out of a haze. He probably was, he always got a bit floaty when breaking one of Evan’s rules. Regardless, he was taking far too long for Regulus’ taste. He slid his arms back around his neck, pressing his thigh into Barty’s erection.
“Fuck, Reg.” Barty groaned, coming back to himself, “Yeah, okay.” Regulus tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled him down to kiss him. It was sloppy, full of heat from the beginning, but the two fell into an easy rhythm. Regulus pressed close to him, slipping his tongue into the other’s waiting mouth. This is what he missed about the days when he and Barty were experimenting. They were in sync, one pushing when the other pulled. It was hard to find someone else like that. Of course, it didn’t help that Regulus refused to hook up with people more than a few times. People seemed to think that meant he wanted a relationship, or that they had some sort of claim over him, and he didn’t have time to deal with people crying about him breaking their heart.
Barty’s hands were back on him, one sliding under his shirt and the other sinking low to grab his ass. It didn’t get to stay there long, as Barty was ripped away from him rather suddenly. Regulus opened his eyes, expecting to see an angry but amused Evan. Instead, he saw Barty being nearly shoved off the table by the one man he’d been trying to entice all evening.
James Potter.
“Potter, get your hands off of him,” Regulus ordered, drawing his wand. Just because Potter was hot didn’t give him free range to shove Barty around. In fact, Regulus was the only one allowed to shove Barty around. To his surprise, Potter turned and grabbed Regulus’ arm instead. “What in Merlin’s name are you-” He cut off with a very dignified shriek as Potter started dragging him out of the Ravenclaw common room. He didn’t stop him only because this worked well for his plan. Certainly not because his head was foggy and it was easy to let himself be manhandled. He let himself be dragged until they were almost halfway across the castle.
“Let me go,” Regulus demanded when the cool air of the hallway had cleared his mind a bit. Potter ignored him, still stomping his stupid warpath to wherever he was headed, so Regulus hit him with a stinging hex. He ought to know better than to ignore a Black by now. What had Sirius been teaching him?
“Ow- What the fuck?!” Potter groaned, letting go of Regulus in order to rub his arm where he’d been hit. He finally stopped walking, but he still didn’t so much as look at Regulus, which only served to further piss him off. He did not dress up just for Potter to throw a fit and then refuse to look at him.
“What’s going on? Where are you taking me?” Regulus demanded. Potter opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. “Answer me or I swear to Merlin I’ll do much worse than a stinging hex.” He wouldn’t. Probably. He was the best in his year at hexes and curses. But cursing Potter would probably just manage to tick his brother, and the entirety of Gryffindor, off more.
“I-...I don’t know?” Potter said weakly. He was still refusing to look at Regulus, instead staring at the ground. Regulus gaped at him for a second. The absolute gall of this man. He practically stalked him, broke up his hookups, dragged him out of a party, assaulted Barty, and apparently didn’t even think long enough about any of it to have a plan. Regulus could’ve killed him. The almost rejection he was feeling didn’t help either. Potter was clearly doing the bidding of his brother. Which meant Regulus had done all of this just to not get laid, again, and that just made him angrier. Any urge he’d been feeling to sleep with this man was rapidly dissipating.
“You don’t know ?” Regulus felt like he was shouting. He was probably shouting. He didn’t stop though. Instead he shoved his way into Potter’s personal space, so he could properly yell in his face. “You are absolutely ridiculous ! I don’t know what Sirius put you up to, but if you don’t stay out of my way-” He raised his wand, but Potter cut him off before he could finish his threat.
“Sirius didn’t,” He said, like that was somehow the most important thing to address. “He didn’t put me up to anything.” He repeated, slow like a promise.
“Yeah, right, and I’m Rowena Ravenclaw,” Regulus scoffed, “You can’t actually expect me to believe my brother has nothing to do with this. Even you aren’t that stupid.” He said, narrowing his eyes pointedly.
"I mean it," Potter said, biting his lip, "Sirius doesn't have anything to do with this, I swear." Normally the sight of Potter biting his lip would make him want to bite it for him, but all it was doing now was irritating him. Why had he wanted to sleep with this idiot?
"Fine. If this isn't about him, then what is it about?" Regulus raised an eyebrow. Potter opened his mouth then closed it, again, opting instead to just shrug. He looked like he got caught doing something shameful and was being scolded.
“Are you serious? You have the gall to drag me away from a party, where I was rather busy by the way, and you don’t even have a reason?” Regulus asked, opting for deadpan and annoyed instead of yelling this time. He was raised better than to make a scene publicly and he was not about to lower himself to doing so just because of Potter. The alcohol buzzing through his veins was making it difficult to think clearly, even as he was becoming increasingly sober.
"Well..." Potter started. Then he made absolutely no effort to say anything else. Regulus could feel his heart rate going up. Potter was just standing there with his mouth open, and it was pissing him off.
"Why are you following me, Potter? Why have you been stalking me, and watching me, and bloody cockblocking me??" Regulus demanded, barely resisting the urge to shove him. Potter finally looked at him, his eyes nearly comically wide in shock. Apparently he didn’t expect Regulus to be as vulgar as his brother. Typically he wouldn’t be caught dead speaking like that, but something about Potter made him want to get rid of all his usual Pureblood behavior. The mix of alcohol and adrenaline only served to make him more inclined to act on that desire.
"I..." Potter said, but again it was a false start. Regulus really wanted to hit him. Or maybe kiss him. Curse his affinity for stupid men.
"Come on Potter, you've never had a problem running your mouth before. Put it to good use for once and for Merlin’s sake answer me, " He snapped. He realized after he said it that it sounded condescending. Good.
"I..." Nothing. Potter was just staring at him, his face red and his mouth open. How he managed to get under Regulus’ skin like this without saying a word (or, at least, a useful one) was one of life’s greatest mysteries. Maybe it was years of frustration building up. Maybe it was repressed jealousy because Potter had the life Regulus wanted. Maybe it was lust that Regulus had been ignoring for long enough it had manifested itself in other ways. It was probably a mix of all of those things.
"Are you daft? Perhaps Barty was right, you finally hit your head too many times." Regulus drawled, crossing his arms. He wanted to make Potter feel bad, but more than that he wanted more of the hazy look in his eye when Regulus insulted him. A dark look crossed Potter’s face at the mention of Barty, something Regulus tucked away for future investigation.
"No-" Potter said, and this time Regulus cut him off before he could stop talking on his own accord.
"Then answer my questions and explain yourself," He said, slowly, like he was talking to a child.
"I'm-" Again, Regulus cut him off.
"Or is that too difficult for you? Are you having trouble without Lupin here to think for you?" He sneered. It was a bit of a low blow, but he honestly couldn't care less. Anyone with common sense knew that Lupin did all of their school work, or at least he used to.
"Would you let me talk?!" Potter snapped, sounding a bit annoyed. Something about it made Regulus want to egg him on, but the desire to figure out why Potter was harassing him won out.
"...fine, Potter,” He huffed, stepping back to lean on the wall. He was cooling down a bit, less irritated every time Potter opened his mouth, and it was getting easier to remember why he’d wanted Potter so badly.
"I don't know why I've been following you,” Potter paused, and Regulus didn’t hesitate to say something.
"That's not-" He started, insulting at the ready.
"-Shut the fuck up, Regulus,” Potter said, his tone not leaving room for question. It made something warm stir in the pit of Regulus’ stomach. He shut up. “I don't know why I've been following you! I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the party at Hufflepuff.” He hesitated, biting his lip. It was a mistake, because that gave Regulus time to interject.
“So? Do you think I'm a threat? Had to save those poor blokes just in case?" He sneered. Potter's silence more than answered his question. "What, you’ve started following me around because you think I’m a deatheater? ” Regulus raised an eyebrow. The question came out more bitter than he’d intended. He wasn’t . And if he had a choice in the matter, he never would be.
“What? No, that's not it at all!” Potter said, eyebrows flying up. Relief hit Regulus harder than he'd like to admit. It felt like getting hit with cold water on a particularly stifling day, and it was enough to make him feel sober. That was quickly followed by more questions. If Potter wasn't following him for Sirius, and he didn't think he was a deatheater, that left only one of Regulus' theories.
“So what is it, Potter? You’ve yet to tell me anything of any sort of importance,” He said. Regulus had a feeling he knew where this was going, anxiety and excitement swirling together to make an intoxicating mix that made his head swim even as the last dredges of firewhiskey wore off due to whatever potion Barty had forced him to drink before the party finally working.
There was a pause, a short stretch of silence that felt like the moment on a quidditch pitch just before take off. Regulus didn't dare interrupt this time.
“It’s…I want...I want to do stuff to you Sirius would kill me for,” Potter bit his lip again, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Regulus held his breath as he waited for the rest of Potter's confession. “And seeing you with those blokes pissed me off. Because I didn’t want them to touch you like that. Because…I wanted to touch you like that." He admitted, fixing his gaze on the floor near his feet. Regulus’ heart started pounding so hard he could hear it.
“So instead of just talking to me, you ruined any chance I had to get laid?” Was the first thing he said. It sounded pissed even though Regulus wasn't so certain he was pissed anymore. Regardless, even in a moment that felt like a tipping point in their relationship, Regulus couldn’t stop himself from taunting Potter.
“That's not what I-”
“You really are pathetic , Potter,” He drawled. Potter took a sharp breath in. His eyes unfocused for a moment.
“That’s not fair-” He started, his voice tight.
“Oh, it isn’t? You know what else isn’t fair? I haven’t had a good fuck in nearly a month because of your inability to talk to me like a normal person,” He glared at Potter. The nerve of him. He had no right to determine who Regulus got to sleep with, and even worse, Regulus couldn’t help but find his jealousy hot .
“I can help with that,” Potter said, so quiet Regulus almost thought he’d been hearing things.
“I- what?” Regulus blanked, at a loss for words for the first time in…well, a while.
“I can help with that,” He repeated, taking a step towards Regulus. “Let me make it up to you?” And just like that, any desire that had vanished hit him like a tidal wave. Potter was looking at him, his brown eyes warm like melted chocolate, something just short of desperation bottled up behind them. Regulus knew the feeling.
“You- We don’t have anywhere we could…You can’t come to my dorm, and I certainly can’t go to yours, ” Regulus stammered. He’d been thinking about this for longer than he cared to admit, and yet here he was, looking for any reason to avoid it. He hated to admit just how typical that was of him.
“I know a place,” Potter said, offering Regulus a hand. It was just an offer for a shag, but it felt bigger than that. And Regulus was panicking.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea…” He ran a hand through his hair. Potter took another step towards him, close enough now that Regulus had to lean against the wall to avoid touching him. Potter leaned down closer, their faces inches apart.
“Please, Regulus. I really want to make it up to you…” Potter glanced at his lips. Regulus felt goosebumps rise down his arms. When he didn’t answer, Potter continued, his voice so low it made Regulus feel like they were the only two people in the world, like everything in that moment was centered on the two of them. “I wanna make you feel good.” Regulus felt his knees go weak. He was nearly lightheaded with how quickly blood rushed from his head. Potter was basically begging him to let him get him off. None of his stupid teenage wet dreams had ever lived up to what this was turning out to be.
“Fuck. Yeah, okay,” He breathed, voice barely a whisper between them. He took Potter’s hand. A grin split his face, the same one he always wore when he got something he wanted. The other boy led him a few halls over, though it felt like miles, before telling him to wait a second. He paced in front of the same wall three times, and Regulus was beginning to think he had actually hit his head again. He was preparing to say as much when a door appeared on the previously blank wall. The door was simple, plainer than one of the doors to their classrooms. Regulus was sure that even if it had been there before most people would never notice it.
“Is that…” Regulus trailed off, not believing it enough to even ask. Potter looked at him, a far-too-smug grin on his face.
“The Room of Requirement? Yup. Moony found it second year,” He said, trying and failing not to sound like he was bragging. “Well technically, Sirius was the one who-” Regulus would never hear the end of what likely would have been a very exciting tale about the Marauders escapades, because he didn't want to.
“If you don’t stop talking about my brother and fuck me I swear to Salazar I will curse you so hard you will never fly again,” Regulus threatened. Potter stared at him, opened mouthed, for a moment before scrambling to open the door. It probably helped that Regulus had reached for his wand.
The door opened to reveal a bedroom. It wasn’t huge, about the size of one of the guest rooms in the Manor. It was much cozier than anything you would find in the Manor, though. There was a fireplace that was already burning, along with two oversized chairs and a loveseat positioned around a coffee table. There was a plush rug that took up most of the floor. To Regulus’ surprise, most of the room wasn’t red and gold. Instead, most of the furniture was dark wood, and the decorations were more neutral colors. The stuffed chairs were maroon, though, but he supposed he could tolerate a bit of red.
The thing that piqued Regulus’ interest the most was the king size bed. It was tucked against the back wall, with the blanket folded neatly on the end rather than tucked tightly into the bed, like the Room knew what they planned to use the bed for and wanted to keep it out of the way. Although, once he thought about it, the Room did know exactly what they were there to do. The sheets on the bed looked like they were made of silk, and there was an almost absurd amount of pillows against the headboard.
“After you,” Potter said, gesturing towards the door with a flourish and giving a half bow.
“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus scoffed, but he walked into the room anyway. He didn’t turn as Potter entered the room, but he heard the door shut behind him with a resounding click. He took a deep breath in. No going back now. Well, there definitely was. If he told Potter he changed his mind he doubted the other boy would stop him. But he hadn’t changed his mind. He wanted this.
“So…” Potter said awkwardly, taking a step towards Regulus. Why he wanted this, he didn’t know. Potter was an absolute idiot. “What do we do now?” He asked. Regulus didn’t even bother stifling his annoyed sigh.
“Am I supposed to believe you’ve never done this before?” He asked, turning to face Potter. He was standing a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Maybe he hadn’t done this before.
“I have done this before,” Potter said, almost defensively. He stopped shifting, choosing instead to focus on looking offended.
“So you’re just incompetent then?” Regulus raised an eyebrow. He doubted it, he'd heard of far too many people who vied for a second night with him for that to be true. But that wasn’t what this was about. It was about the thrill he got when he was mean to Potter like this, the way his breathing picked up in response, the way they both got more enjoyment out of it than they should.
“I’m not incompetent. I know what I’m doing,” He huffed, sounding so sullen Regulus was surprised he wasn’t pouting.
“I don’t believe you,” Regulus said simply, if only to goad him more. Potter dropped the pout in favor of looking surprised.
“Fine, I’ll prove it.” Potter said, voice falling into something more determined. Regulus was going to say something else, to ask him how he planned to do that, but Potter was approaching him before he got the chance. He closed the distance between them like he had in the hall, and again he hesitated.
“What exactly is this supposed to prove, Potter?” Regulus asked. He was taunting him on purpose, attempting to get him to make the first move so he didn’t have to. So he could blame him afterwards, even if only to himself, for everything that was about to happen. Potter was nothing if not predictable, so it worked. He closed the gap between them, slotting his lips against Regulus’. It was gentle at first, almost chaste, but that wasn’t what Regulus was there for.
He snaked his arms around Potter’s neck and pulled him closer. Potter responded by wrapping his arms around Regulus’ waist, and, not wanting to be outdone, running his tongue along the seam of Regulus’ mouth. Regulus parted his lips, allowing Potter entry. They moved together, dancing around each other like they had been for the past month. Regulus toyed with Potter’s hair, not quite pulling, and Potter backed him up until his back hit the wall. They parted, both panting.
“See? I know what I’m doing,” Potter grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. Regulus had to fight himself not to grin back.
“Tch, it's not like kissing is a particularly difficult task,” Regulus rolled his eyes, “You’ll have to do better than that to impress me.” He said, as if that wasn’t the most alive he’d ever felt kissing someone. He had a distant feeling that wasn’t entirely about the kiss itself.
“Why am I the one who has to impress you? How am I supposed to know that you’ve done this before?” Potter countered. Regulus was surprised it had taken him that long to think of that.
“First, you walked in on me multiple times,” Potter cringed but Regulus continued, “Second, I have obviously done this before. You saw me with Barty, you honestly think we hadn’t done that before?” Regulus raised an eyebrow. Potter’s face dropped at the mention of Barty, to the point Regulus would almost say he was scowling . “What? You have a problem with the fact that I’ve shagged Barty?”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk about shagging other blokes when we’re in the middle of this,” Potter said, his jaw tensing visibly. If he wasn’t scowling before, he definitely was now. It was enticing. Potter was jealous . It made fire dance in the pit of his stomach.
“Why? Scared you can’t measure up?” Regulus taunted, pushing Potter's buttons just because he could. Because he wanted him to admit the truth, because forcing the words out of him sent a sick thrill up his spine.
“No. I just… don’t want you thinking of other guys when you’re with me,” Potter dropped his gaze back to the floor, the anger that was there moments before fading to something that closer resembled hurt. Regulus stared at him for a moment, both shocked at the change and unsure how to deal with the sudden bout of feelings. This was not his area of expertise. He tried for a moment to think of what Pandora would do, before deciding what she would do was stupid and he knew far better than her.
“Then make me forget about them,” He said, grabbing Potter’s jaw and making him meet his eye. “You don’t want me to think about other guys? Give me a reason not to.” He said simply, dropping his hand from Potter's jaw in order to cross his arms.
“What do I…” Potter hesitated. He clearly didn’t want Regulus to taunt him again, but he seemed to need something. He'd obviously done this before, why did he seem so hesitant? It wasn’t like he was a clueless virgin or something. It took Regulus a second longer than it should have to figure out exactly what his issue was.
“Oh…Potter, do you want me to tell you what to do?” He asked softly, a bit more condescension in his voice than he’d intended. Potter gave a full body shutter at the words, blinking hard to clear the fog from his eyes. He took a shaky breath in, and dropped his head right back to looking at the floor.
“I really wish you’d just call me James,” He said, in lieu of an actual answer. Regulus rolled his eyes and slid his hand into the other boy’s hair. He grabbed a fistful and used it to yank his head back to look at him.
“Answer the question,” Regulus ordered, then added, “James,” at the last moment. James honest to Merlin moaned, and stilled after, his eyes widening like he was embarrassed. He bit his lip, seeming to think over his options. Regulus raised an eyebrow at him impatiently, and that finally prompted him to speak.
“Yeah.” He admitted quietly. He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing.
“Yeah, what ?” Regulus asked. It sounded more teasing than he meant it. It was a genuine question, even if it was partially motivated by the enjoyment he got out of making him voice what he wanted. Regulus wanted to know what the boundaries here were.
"I want that," He said. Regulus just narrowed his eyes, then cleared his throat with a stern little 'ahem'. "I mean…I want you to tell me what to do." James clarified when he finally figured out what Regulus was wanting from him.
"...Why?" He let his hand drop from his already unruly hair, instead falling uselessly to his side. Again, it was a genuine question. James was so confident, leading both the Marauders and the quidditch team daily and without hesitation. He didn't seem like the type to want to give up control. James stared at him, thinking over whether or not he wanted to explain it. Regulus didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t be eager to explain something so vulnerable to himself if he was in Potter’s position.
"I…I can't mess up if you tell me what to do. I have to think about it all the time, make the choices that keep me and my team, and my friends, safe. I have to worry about making the right choice. Sometimes it's easier to just…let someone else do the thinking." He explained, running a hand through his hair a couple times. Regulus was taken aback. He honestly hadn't expected James to be so…honest. James was still looking at him, his brown eyes open and hesitant. Regulus felt weird. He wanted to wipe the insecurity off James' face. He wanted to make sure he never felt however he felt right then ever again.
"That's…sort of why I like being in control," He admitted. James seemed surprised, but less nervous, so Regulus just pressed forward. "Don't get me wrong, I love being ordered around just as much as the next bloke. But…I don't get to be in control. I've spent most of my life following orders and doing what other people want. So, getting to be in control is…nice. Getting what I want, because I want it, and having someone listen to me…" He trailed off. He'd already told James more than he was comfortable with. More than he'd ever told anybody, even Barty. He was certain it would prove to be a mistake, that James was going to run his stupid mouth. But he couldn't force himself to regret it, because James no longer looked scared or uncertain. And that had to be enough for Regulus, because he was convinced that James should never look scared or uncertain. It just didn't suit him.
"We fit pretty nice then, huh?" James asked, offering a small smile. Regulus had to force himself not to search for, or hope for, a deeper meaning in the words. That wasn’t what he or what James were there for.
"As if. I'm clearly in a league above yours," Regulus scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he and James both knew that there wasn't any actual harm intended behind the words.
"You certainly are," James winked at him, sending something embarrassing fluttering through his chest. Regulus decided he was tired of talking, or at least tired of James talking, and slid his hand back into James' hair and used it to pull him down so he could kiss him. James practically melted against him, sliding his hands around Regulus' waist in order to pull him closer. The pair moved back until Regulus was again pushed firmly against the wall. Somewhere in the middle of the short step back and the kiss they started moving their hips against each other, a slow languid movement that was quick to remind them why they were there. Regulus pulled back from the kiss, biting James' lip as he did, and kissed across James' jaw. He nipped the sensitive skin where jaw meets throat and James let out a stuttering breath. He continued his path down his throat, careful not to leave any marks in his wake. James moaned softly.
"Isn't it supposed to be me making you feel good?" James asked, his voice shaky. Regulus reluctantly moved back to look at him. There were about a thousand things he would never, and could never, say in response. ' You are making me feel good, just like this,' was the main overlying one, and he had to choke the words down before he could speak.
"That was the point of this, yes," He agreed instead. "I doubt your capabilities to do so, but I'm eager to see you attempt it." James didn't bother to respond. He picked up where Regulus had left off, kissing down Regulus' throat, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Regulus couldn't help the soft groan he let out, letting his head fall to the side. He let James do as he pleased for a moment, happy with the pleasure his actions brought, before a thought hit him.
“If you leave hickies I swear to Salazar I will murder you,” He hissed. James pulled back, his eyes falling from Regulus’ own to his neck. His eyes widened minutely.
“About that…” He trailed off, a sheepish but pleased smile spreading slowly across his face.
“I am going to end you,” Regulus groaned, dropping his head against the wall behind him. He would have to heal himself later to avoid the embarrassment of wearing his scarf when it was still far too warm for that.
“Can it wait until after I get you off?” James asked, his voice light like he already knew the answer. Regulus leveled him with a withering glare. James just tilted his head slightly to the side, widening his stupid doe eyes, “C'mon please, Reg? I’m supposed to be making it up to you. I’ve got to properly apologize, right?” He asked again, nearly pleading. Regulus was certain he was just teasing him, but it did something for him nonetheless. He pretended to mull it over, as if he wouldn’t have let James do far worse than get him off if he asked like that.
“Fine. I suppose it wouldn’t be right to let you die without making amends,” He sighed, as if letting James get him off was a burden rather than something out of his wet dreams. James grinned, again looking far too pleased, as if he’d caught the snitch rather than gotten permission to make Regulus cum. Regulus watched him for a moment before deciding that James was taking far too long. “Well? Did you have a plan or do I have to do that for you too?” He drawled. It was all bark no bite, he didn’t mind telling James what to do one bit. To his surprise, James faltered.
“Well, I was actually…” He trailed off, a blush that was barely noticeable on his tan skin starting. When he showed no sign of continuing, Regulus tutted.
“Just spit it out,” He scolded. It was playful, meant more as banter than anything else, but James’s breath stuttered regardless. Interesting. James stayed silent, and Regulus decided to test his reactions further. “I thought you wanted to make me feel good?” He asked, condescension dripping off his words like honey. James' eyes fluttered as the words washed over him.
“I do! It’s just…a bit embarrassing saying it is all,” James admitted, picking at his nail. Again, he showed no sign of elaborating. Regulus bit his lip, considering for a moment.
“Come on James. Tell me,” He trailed his hand up James’ chest, tracing the line of his collarbone gently with his thumb, “Be good for me, yeah?” He asked softly, a bit hesitant. He felt James’ pulse jump. Got him.
“Fuck…” James muttered. He slid one hand under his glasses to rub his face before finally saying what he’d been thinking. “I was…Uhm…I could, if you wanted, suck you off?” He said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Regulus’ gaze. It was Regulus’ turn to swear.
“Yeah,” He said, a bit too quickly and breathlessly for his liking, “Yeah. You can.” James blinked at him, like he’d expected Regulus to say no. Regulus didn’t believe it. There was no way that James Fleamont Potter had ever been told no, especially not when he was offering to give someone a blow job. Stronger men than Regulus had undoubtedly fallen to that temptation. Just when Regulus was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the incredulous weight of James’ gaze, the boy in question unceremoniously dropped to his knees.
It turns out James’ shyness didn’t extend past having to ask for what he wanted. Any anxiety or hesitancy was promptly replaced with eager want as he looked up at Regulus, waiting for his next move. Regulus had no such luck. He was able to play the game well enough, but he was always a bit embarrassed when it came to actually pursuing what he wanted. It was too easy to get into his head when he had time to think like this. That was one of the many reasons he preferred for these things to be fast and easy. Unfortunately, looking down and seeing warm brown eyes staring up at him as patiently as a dog waiting for a treat, he knew this would be neither. He bit his lip and undid his belt, hoping the slight shake of his hands was subtle enough that James wouldn’t notice it. He didn’t plan to risk it either way, instead opting to lean back and cross his arms. James furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.
“Is something wrong? Do you want to stop?” He asked, his voice laced with a concern that Regulus wasn’t used to hearing from pretty much anyone. He felt the tips of his ears get hot with embarrassment and cursed himself for being so ungodly pale.
“I've already said I wanted this. I’m not one to change my mind, Potter,” He scoffed, ignoring James’ frown at the use of his surname. “You’re the one who is supposed to be making things up to me, right? So you handle this.” He said, gesturing to his partially removed belt and his pants. James made a little face of realization and leaned up to undo the Regulus’ pants. Time seemed to inch as he pulled Regulus’ belt ever-so-slowly out of the loops. The clinking it made just made the entire ordeal seem all the more mortifying. Regulus’ face felt hot. What was he thinking, shacking up with James Potter? Gryffindor's golden boy was practically carved from marble, his body carefully crafted by some god just to torture poor lads like Regulus by being unattainable.
To torture Regulus, who wasn’t carved from anything. He was too skinny to be muscular, but too muscular to be pretty. His skin was so pale that his veins showed through, making him look like some sort of ghoul. He had never doubted his own appearance before, at least not for any substantial amount of time. He was a Black, he was ‘bred from purest blood’ to be handsome enough to continue their bloodline. He’d been lusted after more times than he could count, had had people fall for him over nothing more than his appearance many times over. But here, alone with James, perfect, gorgeous James, he doubted himself. Every critic of his appearance that he’d ever heard, or made himself, raced through his head as he helped James remove his clothing, sliding tight leather down his legs until he was left in just his sheer lace shirt. He was exposed, vulnerable in front of someone who he would’ve called an enemy not forty minutes ago. He looked aside, focusing on anything but himself, or worse, James’ reaction to him. Because suddenly it didn’t matter if the entire world thought he was perfect, it only mattered if James did.
“Godric,” James said after an eternity, his voice almost reverent, “You’re more beautiful than I could’ve imagined, Reg.” Warm, rough hands slowly traced the length of his thighs, and he forced himself to look at the man in front of him. James was looking at him in a way he’d never been looked at before. His gaze was heavy with something more than desire. He hardly looked like he belonged on his knees in front of Regulus. He looked like he would be more in place in a renaissance painting, a painting of a man worshiping something he was truly devoted to. Regulus believed him when he said he was beautiful.
He smiled ever-so-slightly at James, hoping that was enough to convince him to continue. Thankfully, it was. He seemed to think for a moment before ghosting his fingertips up Regulus’ thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He shifted forward and Regulus was embarrassed at his own sharp intake of breath. James glanced back up at him, grinning, before kissing up the same path his fingers had just taken, stopping once to suck a bruise into the pale skin that Regulus would scold him for later. For now though, Regulus was regaining the erection that had started to ebb when he’d begun panicking, and James had definitely noticed. He let his breath ghost over the sensitive skin before licking a stripe from base to tip without much more build up. Regulus let his head rest against the wall, focusing on keeping his breathing even instead of on James.
It was easy to lose himself after that, to get lost in the sensations. James didn’t bother with much more preamble, taking as much of Regulus in his mouth as he could in one go and working the rest with his hand. Regulus’ eyes had shut at some point, leaving him to suffer the sensation without being able to distract himself. It didn’t help that James was a quick learner. He had no trouble picking up on what made Regulus’ breath stutter, or made him swear under his breath. He had stopped needing to use his hand, swallowing most of Regulus down with each bob of his head, and instead they were gripping at Regulus’ hips like he needed to ground himself. The more James did, the more Regulus’ lost his carefully built walls. It started with a moan or two, but it had quickly turned to him talking before he could be bothered to think about it.
“Fuck, James,” Regulus moaned, throwing his head back. He slid one of his hands into James’ hair, pulling as the other boy hollowed his cheeks around him. “Shit. You feel so good.” He panted, opening his eyes to stare down at the man in question. His face was red, and drool was running down his chin. He didn’t even seem to notice, with his eyes shut in concentration and his mind somewhere else.
“Look at me,” Regulus said, sounding less like he was instructing him and more like he was pleading. He tugged on his hair to make up for it, and was rewarded when hazy brown eyes fluttered open to look at him. James looked completely out of it. “Fucking hell. You’re so pretty, so fucking stupid with it, huh? Merlin help me. So good at sucking me off,” He groaned, tugging harder on James’ unruly hair. He’d feel bad later for not better communicating what James was comfortable with, but it was hard to worry about it when James’ responding moan vibrated around his cock. Regulus couldn’t help but thrust his hips shallowly, chasing the feeling down James’ slick throat. He’d thrusted a total of twice before he stilled, pulling at James’ hair to lift him off his cock and cursing at himself for being careless.
“Why’d you stop?” James slurred, furrowing his eyebrows. His voice was rougher than usual, and Regulus cock gave an interested twitch in response. James’ eyes were hazy and unfocused behind the lenses of his glasses, like he was floating somewhere else entirely, but they chased the movement with an unfiltered interest.
“I didn’t mean too- uh,” Regulus hesitated. He was never the best at talking about this sort of thing, “I don’t want to do something you aren’t okay with…” He said. He could feel the beginnings of a blush on his face. James just blinked at him for a second, his head so full of clouds it must've been hard to think around.
“Oh,” He said, once he figured out what Regulus meant, “You can fuck my throat if you want. I can take it.” He grinned up at him, clarity coming back to him in a slow trickle. Regulus swore under his breath. Something about James saying that so casually did something to him.
“Are you sure?” He asked, just to be sure. James didn’t seem like he was all there and he’d rather be overly cautious then allow him to do something he’d regret later.
“ ‘m sure,” James mumbled. Regulus apparently didn’t look too convinced, because he continued, “Pinky promise Reggie. I’m super sure about it. Really sure. I’m pretty sure I've dreamt about it before.”
Regulus snorted, “You’ve dreamt about me fucking your throat?” He raised an eyebrow. James didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed.
“Definitely. C’mon Reg, don’t make me beg,” He huffed, in a tone that indicated he was very close to doing so. Regulus filed that away for use at a later date, likely a sad wank after they were finished here and back to casually hating each other.
“Okay… Just, tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, alright?” He bit his lip. James nodded, and gave him a wink before swallowing his cock back down his throat with a practiced ease. Regulus groaned, letting James bob his head at his own pace. He was considering just finishing like that and not risking fucking something up when James keened around him impatiently. Well, James did seem sure about wanting it, and Regulus would have to be stupid to pass the chance up. He made a show of rolling his eyes like this would be an inconvenience rather than a wet dream come true before tightening his grip on James’ hair. He stilled James for a second time, this time instead of pulling him off he rolled his hips experimentally. James just looked up at him through his lashes, and he wasn’t sure if it was a challenge or a plea. It didn’t matter, because his big doe eyes looked far too innocent for what they were doing and it made something hot trail up Regulus’ spine. He thrust his hips, the gentle hesitance gone, shoving his cock down James’ waiting throat. He started at a slow and steady pace, attempting to make things easy for James. He’d hate to make the quidditch captain lose his voice in the middle of training season.
The thought of him on the pitch, face red as his teammates asked him what happened to his voice was surprisingly hot. He wondered if James would pretend to have a cold, and how he’d feel talking to his friends knowing he lost his voice because he had the Slytherin seeker’s cock shoved down his throat. If after the Gryffindor vs Slytherin match he’d let Regulus do it again in the locker room. Wiping that stupid smug look off his face by shoving him to his knees and giving him better things to do with his mouth right there, where anyone could walk in. Regulus didn't stay quiet for very long.
“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Making me feel so good,” He moaned, letting himself get rougher with his thrusts. James’ eyes fluttered, and he took that as a sign to continue. “You look so hot like this, on your knees for me. Shit.” He gasped, hips stuttering. He pulled James’ hair, hard, and tears spilled down the other boy’s face. Regulus slowed down for a second, wanting to make sure he was okay, and James outright whined.
“Shit. Holy shit. Okay. Fuck,” Regulus stuttered, speeding back up. “Cockslut,” He teased, though it came out breathless rather than sharp. He watched James carefully for a reaction as he caught himself. He didn’t want to stop again when James seemed so upset the last time, but he didn’t want James to be uncomfortable. He’d called Barty that plenty of times, but he didn’t know what James was into. Surprisingly, James’ eyes rolled back and he moaned. His hips canted, seeking friction but finding none. Regulus felt the familiar pressure in his gut and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not with The James Potter on his knees and literally gagging on his cock.
“James-fuck, James I’m close,” He warned. James didn’t pull off, even when Regulus loosened his grip on hair. He swallowed around Regulus, creating a delicious suction. When it was evident he planned on letting Regulus cum down his throat, Regulus rolled his hips. “You really are a slut, huh?” He cooed, testing the water. James did his best to nod, but when Regulus’ tight grip in his hair and dick being shoved down his throat made it impossible he settled for keening. Regulus let his mouth run as he got closer and closer to the edge, enjoying the effect it had on James almost as much as he was enjoying using him like this.
“Fuck. Imagine if all your fans knew how dirty you really are. What do you think they’d say when they found out their golden boy was begging to swallow a dirty Slytherin’s spunk?” He spat. James chased him as he pulled out, doing his best to keep him in his mouth. “So good, James. Fuck. I think you were made for this. Fucking hell. Just want me to use you, huh? You look so good like this, wish I could take a picture. Show everyone how desperate you are,” He panted. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, but James seemed to be enjoying it. His hands were balled into fists on his thighs and he was moving his hips against nothing.
“Gonna cum,” Regulus groaned, thrusting all the way into James’ throat, far enough he was sure James couldn’t be having an easy time breathing. He didn’t pull out, just ground his hips enough to bring him to the edge. “Gonna cum. You want it, huh? Cockslut. Fuck. So good Jamie, so fucking good,” He came with a moan that was higher pitched than he’d like to admit, and James swallowed all of it that he could, his throat tightening deliciously around Regulus. When Regulus pulled out, he gathered what spilled out of his mouth with his thumb and sucked the digit into his mouth. Regulus’ cock gave a weak twitch.
“Shit. You’re kinkier than I thought you’d be,” Regulus said, breathing heavily. He let his head fall back against the wall behind him. James took a minute to respond. He was panting, his chest rising and falling. Regulus felt a twinge of guilt, he’d been right about James having a hard time breathing. He should’ve checked on him more.
“You’ve thought about this?” James asked when he finally spoke, a teasing smile on his face. His voice sounded completely wrecked, but he seemed nothing but pleased. He got to his feet with a surprising amount of ease. He looked debauched. His lips were swollen, his chin was shiny with spit and cum, and his hair was even more of a mess than usual. Not to mention the tear-tracks down his face and the fog still lingering in his gaze. Regulus did his best to memorize the way he looked in that moment. He would likely never see him like this again, and he’d probably be getting off to the memory for years. Maybe he’d buy a pensive to relive it.
“I liked it better when you couldn’t talk,” Regulus replied dryly but he knew he was grinning. He pulled his pants back up, the tightness of the leather uncomfortable now that he wasn’t floating on firewhiskey and endorphins.
“Yeah right,” James stuck his tongue out at him, and Regulus laughed despite himself. James smiled at him, soft and sincere, and all of a sudden he felt like his throat was closing.
“Did you want me to get you off?” He asked. It was a rather abrupt change of tone, but he’d prefer not to let this get sappy. It was just a one time thing and they both needed to remember that.
“Oh. I mean, you don’t have to? This was to make up for before,” James rubbed the back of his neck, clearly feeling the shift in Regulus’ behavior. Regulus paused, thinking it over. It would probably be best to leave it at that mind-blowing blowjob. He could walk out of here, pretend to hate James again, and dream about the memories. Doing more could get messy, especially if James kept looking at him like that.
“You seriously think a subpar blowjob makes up for not getting fucked for months?” Regulus scoffed. The blowjob was anything but subpar, they both knew that, but Regulus wasn’t about to admit something like that out loud. Besides, that wasn't the point. He was offering more, in the only way he was comfortable with.
“Hey! That was a spectacular blowjob and you know it,” James pouted, without any genuine hurt behind it. “If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was say so,” He huffed, only to immediately give his signature shit-eating grin that meant he’d gotten what he wanted. Regulus opened his mouth to smart off, but before he could James was picking him up. He lifted Regulus like he weighed nothing, and fuck if that wasn’t hot. James set him on the bed. He’d been right before, the sheets were silk.
“Will you strip for me?” James asked, and Regulus wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the confidence from. He’d seemed so helpless earlier anytime Regulus had tried to get him to ask for anything, and now he was basically telling him what to do. Regulus started unbuttoning his shirt anyways, sudden dynamic shift aside. James waited until Regulus started before rifling through the top drawer of the nightstand on one side of the bed, like he already knew where what he was looking for was. It made Regulus wonder how often James had used this room, how many other people he had brought back here. His stomach twisted with an emotion he recognized as jealousy, as stupid as it was. He chose to ignore it, instead focusing on stripping and watching James as he rummaged through the drawer. He hummed to himself as he did so, irritatingly free from any concern about the consequences this could have.
Regulus stripped to his underwear, leaving them on like they made any difference. It wasn’t like James hadn’t already seen what was under them. He’d expected some sort of knot to form in his stomach, the looming dread he usually felt to catch him. He knew that sleeping with James was a bad idea, even if it had been his. It wasn't his fault, or a flaw in his plan. After all, he’d made said plan before he saw the way James looked at him when he smiled, before he knew how kind and concerned he could be. This was meant to be a quick fuck to get it out of his system, and it was turning out to be anything but.
“Oi, Reg. I can hear you thinking,” James said, climbing onto the bed beside him. At some point he’d taken his shirt off, which Regulus was very much appreciating. “What's going on up there?” He asked, smiling at him easily like he'd been doing it for years.
“I was just preparing for this to be a subpar experience,” Regulus scoffed. James looked…disappointed? That was ridiculous. He couldn’t have expected Regulus to be honest . James wiped the look off his face by rolling his eyes.
“You know you don’t have to do this, if it's so unbearable,” He said, more tense than he probably meant to sound. “No one’s forcing you to.” He picked at the sheets. He sounded hurt and almost… bitter. Which was obviously Regulus’ fault, even if it made no sense that he was upset.
“I’m aware. But this is for you to make amends,” He tried, less confident than usual with his retort. He didn’t understand what was different about this, why James was upset. He felt like he was trying to play the game without understanding what game they were even playing. James rubbed his face, pushing his glasses up, and he suddenly looked a lot older and a lot more tired.
“I don’t understand you, Regulus,” He said after a moment, “I really don’t. Why can’t you just say that you want this? That you want me ? There’s no one here, so it's not like you have to worry about someone telling anyone. I want you. I’ve been honest about it. But you seem physically incapable of doing the same. It doesn’t make sense.” James sighed. It seemed like the words were heavy, too heavy, and he was exhausted just from carrying them. How was Regulus meant to respond to that? What could he possibly say to make sense of the situation? He wanted this. They both knew it. Why did it matter if he said it or not?
“I…I don’t,” He started, but he didn’t have anything else to say. If it had been James, Regulus would have taunted him, would have told him to finish his sentences. But James was a much better person than he was, so he just shook his head.
“It’s okay. I know,” He said softly. Regulus didn’t know how he could possibly mean that, considering even he didn’t know why he couldn’t say it, but James seemed so certain. It was easy to believe he knew something Regulus didn’t. Still it was strange. What could he possibly understand about Regulus? They’d been little more than strangers a mere hour or so ago.
“You don’t…We don’t have to,” Regulus said, forcing it out around the lump in his throat. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Why was it so hard to be genuine about this? James studied him for a moment before coming to a decision.
“Alright,” He said, and Regulus’ heart fell. Which was ridiculous. It was just a hookup, he could easily find another. “Lead the way Reg. I’m all yours.” Regulus looked at him so fast he swore his neck cracked. Was he serious? Why on Earth would he still want to do this?
“But,” Ah, there it was, “We’re even. I don’t want to do this because it's making up for something.” James said, more serious than Regulus had ever seen him. Regulus bit his lip. If he agreed to that, he wouldn’t have an excuse anymore. There would be no plausible deniability to hide behind. He made eye contact with James, his deep brown eyes so genuine, so open, so vulnerable in a way Regulus hadn’t ever seen from, well, anyone. His eyes dropped back to the silver sheets. His whole life had been guarded, every action followed with a snide comment or a reasonable excuse. An easy out if it seemed like he was in too deep. It was how he was raised after all. He was certain his mother had likely never so much as held him as a baby without a reason lined up in case it seemed like she was possibly caring for him. But here was James Potter, a man he was supposed to hate, supposed to fight a bloody and unjust war against, offering up something with no reason other than they both wanted it. It was dangerous, the cocktail of emotions he felt was stronger than any alcohol he’d ever downed. He could let himself want for wanting's sake.
He felt cruel words burning the back of his throat like acid. Every defense he’d ever built was there, ready to be unleashed. He could stop this before it got any worse, before he allowed himself to get any more attached. Then he looked up from the sheets he’d been staring at, meeting warm, vulnerable brown eyes, and he knew there had never really been a choice to make. He knew the truth. His friends had been right, as much as it pained him. He had a massive crush on James Fleamont Potter, and he would curse himself forever if he missed this opportunity.
“Okay,” Regulus said. His voice felt disconnected from himself, like he was hearing it from underwater, like he was drowning and his voice was just a remnant of what had been. But then James smiled and it felt like surfacing, like he could finally draw air into his aching lungs.
“You’ve made it up to me. This…this is because we want it. I want it,” His voice shook as he said it, but it was worth the blush that he knew stained his face because the light that had been missing from James before had returned. They stared at each other for a moment, and Regulus was sure that James was going to back out, to jump up and laugh at him. Instead, he moved closer. He made his way towards him until he was properly in Regulus’ space, heat radiating off his bare chest.
“Can I kiss you?” James asked, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt appropriate, like this was somehow more serious than anything that had happened before. Regulus wasn’t sure why James had bothered to ask this time around, but he found himself genuinely thinking about it anyway. He nodded, but James stayed still, remaining just out of reach.
“Yes,” Regulus breathed, a barely audible confirmation. James smiled, and closed the space between them. The kiss was different than their others had been. It was soft, and slow, rather than the heated snogging they’d been doing. Regulus let his hands snake round James’ broad shoulders, tangling his fingers in the curly hair at the nape of his neck. In return, warm hands grasped his waist, moving him until he was laying flat on his back. James hovered over him, using one arm to brace himself and effectively caging Regulus’ against the bed. They stayed like that for a good while, sharing gentle kisses and just being near each other. It was a sweet, lovely feeling, but it wasn’t long before Regulus was reminded why they’d come there in the first place. He was on his way to being hard again, and he could feel that James was too. He wanted James to fuck him, more than he’d ever wanted it before.
“James,” He said, barely parting from him to speak. James blinked at him, his eyes nearly crossing behind his glasses as he tried to focus on Regulus. It made him chuckle. “I want you to fuck me.” He said softly, trying to keep his voice from wavering. It was hard, admitting what he wanted. But it was more than worth it, watching James’ pupils dilate in real time. He had to clear his throat before he could speak clearly
“Fuck,” James groaned, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He rolled to the other side of the bed, sitting up and grabbing the lube he’d left over there. Regulus propped himself up on his elbows to watch him. He eyed the toned muscle of his back appreciatively, saying a silent thanks to whoever invented quidditch.
“James,” He said again, and got a hum of acknowledgement in response. “Take your pants off.” James lifted his head to stare at him in disbelief for a moment. He blinked, once, then twice, really slowly, as if he expected Regulus to vanish like a mirage.
“Brilliant,” He grinned, sliding off the bed to do as he was told. There was nothing performative about it, even as Regulus watched him carefully. He would’ve made a show out of it, drawn it out to tease him. James just undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants as fast as his shaking hands would allow. Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.
“You still have your shoes on,” He explained after James gave him a questioning look. He looked down almost comically, only to realize that he did, in fact, still have his shoes on.
“Oh. Right,” He said sheepishly, before bending down to take his shoes off. They were bright red, which Regulus would find gaudy on anyone else, and some muggle brand with stars on the sides. They took what felt like ages to take off, but James made up for it by shoving his pants off the second they were off. Regulus’ stomach flipped.
“Okay…Uhm, how do you want me to…?” James bit his lip, looking from Regulus to the lube in his hand. It took Regulus a second to understand what he meant.
“Well, I certainly hope you plan to prep me before you stick your dick in me,” He raised an eyebrow. James’ eyes widened, and his face flushed.
“Of course! I just...Uhm…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Ah, this again. He wanted Regulus to lead this. He thought for a second, before propping up some of pillows in front of the headboard. Once it was nice enough, he looked at James again. Now or never. Before he could hesitate, he slid his boxers off and laid on his stomach, resting his head on his arms on the pile he'd made.
“Like this is fine,” He said, ignoring the blush he felt creeping all the way down to his shoulders. He heard James suck a breath in, and then the bed dipped as he climbed on it to kneel behind Regulus.
“Can I…” He started, but never finished. He moved Regulus’ legs, manhandling him gently until he was on his knees. His back was arched, legs spread, and he felt utterly exposed. “Beautiful…” James murmured, more to himself than anything else, and warmth rushed up Regulus’ spine.
“Hurry up,” He huffed, and James chuckled. The low gravel of his voice, still rough from Regulus using his throat earlier, sent goosebumps trailing across Regulus’ skin.
“Impatient,” He teased, but Regulus heard the click of a bottle opening. He braced himself for the cold lube as James used one hand to spread his ass, but it never came. Instead, a warm, albeit wet, finger circled his rim. Of course James warmed the lube up. No other bloke ever had, hell Regulus didn’t even bother with doing it when he was alone, but James was far too considerate for that.
“I can take more than one,” Regulus blurted out, startling himself as much as James. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t want to waste time on prep he didn’t need. Besides, James wanted him to communicate, didn’t he?
“Are you sure?” James asked, “I don’t want to hurt you.” It sounded so genuine Regulus couldn’t even make a dig about how he likely wasn’t that big. Besides, he now had to deal with the far more pressing matter of explaining his embarrassing outburst.
“I’m certain. I…uhm. I prepared earlier,” He admitted, attempting to keep some semblance of dignity in his voice even as it slipped through his fingers. The silence that followed his words stretched longer than he was comfortable with, so he continued, “I had every intention of getting shagged tonight, and it seemed senseless to be entirely unprepared, so I…handled it earlier.” He was definitely rambling, and he was not meant to ramble, but James was still being quiet and he was feeling vulnerable for what he thought were very obvious and understandable reasons.
“I wish I could’ve seen you,” James said when he finally spoke, voice so soft Regulus wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it. He pulled his hand away, only to return it with two fingers replacing one. Regulus flushed. What was he meant to say to that? How was he supposed to respond to the hushed words that felt like a confession? It didn’t matter, because James was slowly pushing two of his lovely fingers into Regulus and it was suddenly very hard to think much at all.
“I bet you looked gorgeous, Reg.” His voice was still soft, but this time the words were so clearly laced with heavy want. His fingers were only about halfway in when he pulled them out and thrust them back in, repeating the motion carefully. His other hand held Regulus’ waist oh so gently, like he was afraid of breaking him. It was maddening, far too slow and far too gentle, even as James let more of his skilled fingers fill Regulus with each pass.
“Go faster. Merlin, I’m not going to break,” Regulus groaned, shifting his hips back to prove his point. James paused, stopping the agonizing movement of his hand altogether, and Regulus felt ready to murder him. Azkaban would be light torture compared to this. He had a tirade prepared about not being fragile, but he never got to use it. James thrust his fingers back in, all the way in, and began properly finger-fucking Regulus. A moan escaped Regulus before he could stop himself, an embarrassing noise that was far from regal.
“You sound so pretty,” James said, and suddenly any embarrassment he felt was gone. Regulus met it with another moan, and James kept talking. “I’ve wanted this for ages, you know. Ever since you showed up at Hogwarts this year. Fuck, I don’t know what happened this summer, but you have become the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I tried so hard to look away, to ignore it. But you just kept popping up, fooling around with other guys,” He fucked his fingers into Regulus particularly hard as he said that, as if he could erase the touch of other men, replacing them until only he was left. Regulus found himself believing he could.
“You even forced your way into my dreams . Do you know how hard that was? Dreaming about you, about having you like this, knowing you hated me? Seeing you on the pitch, knowing the night before I was fucking you in my dreams. Watching you in class, so focused, when I couldn’t think of anything but bending you over the desk, right there in front of everyone. It was torture, Reg,” He said, sounding as breathless as Regulus felt. A part of Regulus wanted to find it weird. James had been pining after him all year, was admitting to bloody dreaming about him. But he’d been crushing on him for far longer, and the rest of him wanted to fuck James Potter more than he’d ever wanted anything. James’ fingers felt good. So good. They were bigger than his own, thicker and longer, and they filled him up nicely. And his words made heat flicker in his stomach. Regulus could picture what James was describing so easily, knew that he had been daydreaming about the same things.
As James fucked his fingers into him, he scissored them, searching for that spot.
“Fuck, James,” Regulus gasped, his hips twitching. James moved in the same way again, and Regulus damn near saw the stars he was named after. “Dreamed about you too,” He heard himself admitting. James mumbled something that sounded like ‘ Godric help me. ’
“Yeah?” He encouraged, “What’d you dream about? I’ll give you anything you want, promise.” James was the one rambling now, nearly pleading with him, like he was the one at Regulus’ mercy even as he was nearly on top of him. Regulus got a sick satisfaction from knowing that he was. That he meant it when he said he’d give him anything he wanted, would let him push and take until he had nothing left to give, and then let him make him give some more.
“This. You, ” Regulus’ voice went breathy at the end. “You doing this. Fuck, James.” He wasn’t sure he could even say anything else, too focused on rocking his hips back to meet James’ fingers. He was closer to another orgasm than he’d like to admit, even without any stimulation on his neglected dick.
The two fingers were very quickly becoming not enough. He needed James to fuck him properly, and he needed it now . Instead, James’ fingers were pulled out all together, leaving Regulus empty. Regulus whined, high and demanding in the back of his throat. James swore under his breath. There was the click of the lube cap again, and then James was fucking three fingers into him. Regulus’ eyes rolled back, his head dropping down into the pillow below him. He was so full, appreciating the slight sting of the stretch, but it still wasn’t enough.
“Jamie-” He keened. He’d be embarrassed about it later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when James’ careful rhythm was thrown off. He felt more than heard the stuttering of James’ breath as he placed a reverent kiss at the base of his spine.
“Yeah? What do you want? Anything baby, anything,” James said. Regulus moaned. Fucking hell, baby ? Regulus had never been one for pet names, but he knew then that he needed to hear James call him that again. The gravel of his voice, the way want and lust were dripped over the word like honey. It was enough for Regulus to die a happy man.
“Fuck me,” He gasped as James prodded yet again at his prostate. “ Shit . James, I need you.” He said, his words jumbling together like his thoughts did as James’ skilled hands took him apart and built him back up, forever changed.
“You have me,” James said, a meaning hidden in those words Regulus didn’t dare look into, not now, “Any way you want me. You have me, Reg.” He pulled his fingers out of Regulus, leaving him feeling emptier than he ever had before, and wiped his hand on the sheets. Regulus reminded himself to be disgusted about that later. He was more focused on the thoughts, the wants, rushing through his head. He bit his lip, the slight pain helping him to concentrate, thinking it over.
“Wait,” He sat up. James stilled, eyebrows laced in concern. “Let me…I want to ride you,” He felt his face flush. Saying what he wanted was humiliating, even if it meant James inhaling sharply, not even bothering to hide his reaction to the words.
“Yeah. Okay. ‘Course,” He stammered, “Whatever you want.” He grinned, dopey and stupid. Regulus’ heart swelled. He didn’t say anything else, just pushed and pulled James until he laid where Regulus had been. He crossed his arms under his head, eyes trailing down Regulus’ body like he was something to be admired. Goosebumps bloomed across his skin, following the trail of bittersweet chocolate eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Regulus muttered. He tore the condom open, and crawled his way up the bed. Focusing on anything but the way butterflies fluttered in his insides as James stared at him.
“Looking at you like what?” James asked. His voice was light and happy. He seemed more than content to stare at Regulus all day, even though he had been hard for Merlin knows how long.
“Like that ,” He huffed, as if that cleared a single thing up. How was he meant to explain James was looking at him like he adored him? Like this was more than just a one night stand? Like Regulus meant something to him, something he wouldn’t put a name to even in the privacy of his mind. Thankfully, James just laughed. Regulus ignored the way he tried to memorize the sound, to save it in his mind to cry over when this was just a memory.
He ignored the way his hands shook as he rolled the condom onto James. He fumbled with the cap of the lube, the steady shake of his hands almost a tremble now as nerves and lust reduced his ability to function, and then warm hands were helping him, steadying his hands and popping the cap open. He must’ve been blushing all the way down his chest at that point, and he knew it would be painfully obvious even in the dim light of the room. They fell into a comfortable silence as he poured the lube onto his hand, only interrupted by James’ cut off moan when Regulus took his cock into his hands. He almost felt bad when he realized it was the first time he’d touched him. He stroked him for longer than he probably needed to as an apology, drawing more little noises from James until he couldn’t wait anymore. Regulus turned his head to the side, looking anywhere but at James as he straddled his lap. He’d done this plenty of times, even if he couldn’t quite remember the names of any of the blokes he’d done it with, but he still felt exposed. His heart was pounding in his chest so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if James could hear it. Even without looking at him he could feel James’ eyes on him, watching as he lined himself up and slowly began sinking down. He could only imagine the sight he must have made, his normally neat hair tousled, eyeliner smudged, blush spreading across his pale skin.
“Shit,” James swore, his head falling back against the pillows beneath him. Regulus was inclined to agree, moaning as he sank down. This was his favorite part. The stretch as he was filled, the slight burn despite all the prep as his body was forced to adjust to the intrusion. He let himself adjust, taking more in with little rocking motions that pulled ‘ah’s from him. It wasn’t long until he was fully seated, the entirety of James inside of him. He finally felt full, satisfied for the moment. It may have been the fact that this moment was the culmination of years of pining, but he was certain he’d never felt anything better.
And then he moved, pushing up on his knees before dropping back down. And oh, oh, was that better. He wasn’t sure if he was the one who moaned or if it was James, but it didn’t matter. The world shrank down until all that mattered was him and James, alone together in the Room Of Requirement. The only thing that was important was the two of them, that moment, the slick of sweat and lube, the sounds and smell of sex. He fucked himself like that, using James, until he couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth again.
“You feel so good, James,” He moaned, “So good. Letting me use you like this, fuck, look so good like this.” Regulus planted one hand on James’ broad chest to give himself more leverage. James’ warm hands grabbed his hips, and then he was fucking up into Regulus in time with his thrusts. His voice was gone then, lost to the moans and other noises being forced from him. It didn’t matter though, because James was there to fill the silence.
“You’re gorgeous, Reg,” James rolled his hips, pulling another groan from Regulus’ throat, “So pretty. Godric, you feel so good. Perfect for me, so good baby.” There was that damned name again. It wasn’t fair, the way it lit a fire in the pit of Regulus’ stomach. It wasn’t fair how close that word alone brought him to the brink. He opened his mouth to say something, to demand James fuck him faster, anything , but then the world was flipping, his world quite literally spinning because of James Potter. James manhandled him easily, flipping them so Regulus’ back hit the mattress with a soft thud. He had one hand beside Regulus’ head and the other stayed on his hip as if it belonged there. Regulus was beginning to think that maybe he had a thing for strength, because James’ easy display of it put him closer to the edge than he was inclined to admit.
“Just like that,” He gasped, back arching as James hit his prostate dead on. He dug his nails into James’ back, certain he was leaving red lines in their wake. James didn’t seem to mind, based on the way he moaned and did his best to nail that spot with every thrust. It was again Regulus’ turn to speak, to goad James on, and he was happy to.
“So good. Perfect at this. Must be made for it, made to fuck,” Regulus’ voice was punched out of him with each brilliant stroke of James’ cock. “Such a slut , huh? Just wanna be good, don’t you? Bet you’d fuck anyone who asked.” He cooed. He was running his mouth, not certain where any of this was coming from. The only thing he was certain of was that he’d never been this vocal in bed before. It didn’t really matter, he decided, it was working for James and that's all he wanted.
“Wouldn’t,” James slurred, his voice strained, “wouldn’t fuck anyone. Promise,” He was nearly whining, little moans interrupting his sentence. Regulus was left practically breathless from the implication those brilliant words held.
“Yeah? You wouldn’t?” James made a noise of affirmation, “Just me then? You’re just a slut for me?” Regulus asked, pushing his luck. James’ answer didn’t really matter. It was just dirty talk and in any moment aside from this one it didn’t really mean anything.
“Yeah. Just for you, Reg.” Regulus’ heart rushed despite himself. He knew it wasn’t true, that it was just talk. But he could allow himself to pretend, even just for a little while, that James Potter was truly his.
“Good.” He wrapped his hands in James’ hair and pulled so hard the other boy’s eyes crossed. “You’re my slut, aren’t you? My good little slut. Fuck me so good, fucking perfect for me.” He kissed down James’ neck sloppily, following the smooth line of muscle. Any reservations about leaving marks were long gone, as he stopped every few inches to suck a dark bruise into the otherwise unblemished skin. James’ grip on his hip was hard enough he thought it would probably bruise in the pattern of his fingertips, a fact that left him deeply satisfied. They’d both have their marks then, to remember this by.
James’ thrust started losing their rhythm, his moans stealing any words he tried to say, and Regulus knew he must’ve been close. He snaked one of his hands between them and stroked his own erection, using his precum to ease the slide. He did his best to time his strokes to James’ irregular thrusts.
“So close. You gonna make me cum again, love? You think you can do that?” He asked. He wasn’t even sure James heard him, his eyes were foggy and distant like his head was full of clouds. Regulus pulled his hair again. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. You gonna take care of me? Make me feel good?” He cooed, flicking his wrist as he fucked into his own hand. James did his best to nod with Regulus’ hand still fisted in his hair. Maybe it was a bit cruel, but Regulus just tutted.
“Come one, use your words Jamie.” He scolded. James’ hips stuttered. Regulus felt that sick thrill of power again. He would probably feel bad about how much he got off on ordering James around if James didn’t get off on it just as much.
“Yeah,” James agreed, his voice all jumbled together as he attempted to find a coherent sentence in the emptiness of his mind, “I can do that. Anything you want, anything, fuck just don’t stop Reg. Keep talking, please, please baby.” James’ words spilled out of him, pleas Regulus hadn’t even asked for. He really needed James to stop saying that, to stop promising him anything , because he would be far too happy to take it. It wasn’t his fault really, how eager he was to take and take without a second thought. He blamed it on his parents, like he did most things.
“There it is. So good, using your pretty words for me. Know you can sweetheart, know you’re gonna take care of me,” He used his grip on his hair to tilt his head, kisses along his neck turning to bites as Regulus rapidly approached his climax. James couldn’t even find another response, so lost in his own mind. The shock of pride Regulus felt only added to his building climax, so very pleased to be the one who reduced the Gryffindor Golden boy to this.
“You’re so dumb. Did I fuck you stupid?” Regulus scoffed. James whined high in the back of his throat, his eyes pleading and empty. “I did, didn’t I? Fucked you dumb. Just a dumb little slut for me. Not a thought behind those pretty eyes of yours.” He taunted, sliding his hand from his hair to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“ Regulus ,” James moaned, and Regulus was certain his name had never sounded better. That was all it took to push him over the edge for the second time that night. James continued to fuck into him as he climaxed, chasing his own orgasm with increasing desperation. It made Regulus toe the fantastic line of overstimulation, somewhere between pain and pleasure as he spilled over his hand and James’ chest.
“Please,” James whined, catching him off guard. “Let me cum. Please, please Reg. Need it. So close.” Regulus was fairly certain he had never told James to ask before he could cum, but fuck if it wasn’t just about the hottest thing that’d ever happened to him. It had to be second on his list, just after James begging him to fuck his throat.
“Fuckin’ perfect for me, Jamie. Made me feel so good,” His breath stuttered, “ Just do one more thing for me, just one last thing okay? Cum for me. C'mon love, you earned it.” He pushed his hips back against James’. James’ thrusts lost any sense of rhythm as he came, mouth moving wordlessly as his moans cut out. Regulus could feel the warmth fill the condom and had a passing feeling of regret it was there in the first place.
“You did so good. The best. So good for me,” Regulus praised, catching James’ lips with his own. The kiss was more breathing against each other, and smiling, than anything else. Regulus mourned it when they parted anyways. He mourned even more as James pulled out of him, missing the body heat almost immediately. He pretended not to as he watched James tie off the condom and toss towards the floor. He decided to assume there was a trashcan there, and that James did not just throw it on the ground. He also decided to ignore James wiping the cum off his stomach with his horrible red sweater instead of using a cleaning charm like Regulus did for his own hand.
Regulus didn’t have to miss the body heat for long because James was quick to rejoin him on the bed. He slid an arm under Regulus, pulling him close until he was practically on his chest. It was nice. It was more than nice. Regulus was happy to bask in the afterglow, to let James hold him in silence, even as he started thinking again. Thinking about how this was probably a mistake. About how all of that had just been talk, because James wasn’t his in any way. That he decidedly did not have him in ‘ any way he wanted him ’. And worst of all, how he was completely and utterly gone for James Fleamont Potter. He didn’t want to think about it, so he didn’t. He pushed it aside, choosing instead to focus on james’ solid body beneath him and the pattern of his breathing. For once the silence was comforting. It was almost upsetting when James broke it.
“That was brilliant,” He grinned, his stupid gorgeous crooked grin. It seemed like he’d come back down to Earth from wherever he’d been floating. Regulus wanted to shut him up, but he was fresh out of ways to do so.
“Yeah. Brilliant,” Regulus said instead, laughter in his voice. Even as the bubble of afterglow was popped, he couldn’t help but be ridiculously fond of him and his stupidity. James’ hand traced patterns on his back, making constellations in the pale skin there. His laughter joined Regulus’ warm and utterly damning. Regulus knew then that he had to leave before he grew so attached to this version of James that he couldn’t.
He sat up, forcing himself out of the warmth and back into the coldness of reality. James frowned but let his hand fall. He made no attempt to hold on to Regulus. Why would he have? It felt like heartbreak anyways, a fitting prelude to what was to come. Pale eyes focused on the floorboards instead of James. He knew his shoulders were drawn tight, and he was slumping in on himself in a way that his mother would have beat him for.
“Reg…” James trailed off, like he already knew what Regulus was going to say. There it was again, that side of him. Despite all of his idiocy he knew more than he possibly should, as if he had studied Regulus in a thousand lifetimes, as if he could read him like a book. Maybe he had. Maybe they’d loved each other a thousand times before, so strong and passionately that it echoed into this version of them. Maybe they were meant to be together in every lifetime. Every lifetime but this one. Because in this one Regulus had to bear the weight of his family's sins, had to bear a mark he didn’t believe in no matter how desperately he wanted to run from it. He had to fight on the wrong side of a war he prayed every night he’d lose.
“James. You know…you know this can’t happen again, right?” It was barely a whisper. He couldn’t bring himself to say it any louder. Even if it wouldn’t hurt James, it hurt him. James had gotten what he wanted. He’d satiated the obsession he had for Regulus. But Regulus had only made things worse for himself.
“Why not?” James asked. When Regulus glanced at him, he was staring at the ceiling, hands picking at imaginary lint on the pristine sheets. Of course he was going to make him say it, because James wouldn’t make this easy for him. It was payback for Regulus doing the same.
“You have to know that there's a million reasons this has to be a one time thing,” Regulus bit his lip. He hoped for a moment James would leave it at that, that he would let Regulus get dressed and leave in painful peace.
“Do I?” He asked instead, shattering any hope Regulus had, “I’ve been told I’m quite dense. Hit my head too many times, I’m afraid. Why don’t you give me some of them, to help me out?” He used Regulus’ own words from earlier against him. It stung. So this was indeed karma, punishment for his bullying. He wanted to cry that it was unfair, that he should be spared from this now. It was different, because while he was mean, James was taking his heart into his hand and squeezing until it was agonizing. He didn’t do any of that, because he knew more than anyone that actions had consequences.
“You’re incorrigible,” Regulus muttered, taking a deep breath and gathering any shred of willpower he had. “For one, my brother would turn you into a skin rug. Two, we are supposed to fight a war against each other. A horrible, bloody war. This goes against everything I was bred for, everything you believe in. And…And three. I cannot fuck you and pretend it means nothing to me, James.” James sat up to stare at him, clearly taken aback. Regulus had thrown him a curveball, then. Good. At least the pain of forcing the words from his mind to his mouth had some impact on him.
“What-” He asked, eyebrows creasing behind his glasses. Regulus wanted to call him an idiot.
“Don’t make me explain it, please. You know what I mean. Don’t humiliate me further,” He pleaded. Regulus wasn’t sure he would survive saying it out loud. He had already risked too much by admitting it in the roundabout way he had. The smart thing would have been to just stick to the other two reasons. The safe route, that he would have taken without hesitation before any of this had taken place. It seemed being a fool who talked about his feelings was contagious. Maybe that was what had happened to Sirius.
“Regulus,” There was a warm hand cupping his face, gently prodding him to look at James. “Are you…do you mean it?” He asked, uncertainty clouding his voice. He sounded so vulnerable, like he was on the verge of breaking the same way Regulus was. He refused to let himself hope that James was falling apart in this, drowning in it like he was. Maybe it was because he wished to spare him that pain, or maybe it was because he knew what came from hope.
“Yes. More than you could possibly understand,” He whispered, the words too heavy to be anything more than that. He couldn’t help it, giving into the urge to be honest with the man who could so easily destroy him in a way he’d never experienced before. It reminded him of the time his father had taken him to a muggle church. They had sat through the Sunday service, listened to the man preach, and had partaken in the muggle's worship. His father claimed it was to show him how foolish they were, to show him another way wizards were better.
They believe because they cannot see the truth. They want someone else to save them, to forgive them. That is what makes them weak, Regulus. They crave for someone else to wash away their sins.
Orion had used this to teach him that muggles needed their guidance. That they wanted it. He’d made Regulus give a confessional, forced him into the wooden box in the same manner he’d locked Regulus in his own closet as a child. He had admitted a sin, even if he could not recall it now, and received clear cut instructions and an easy way to gain forgiveness. He’d felt it was foolish then. Why should he care for forgiveness, for acceptance, from anyone but himself or his family? Now, as he stared into the deepest brown eyes he’d ever seen, he understood. He too craved that, the washing away of his sins, the reassurance that everything would be okay in the end. The clear answer to all of his problems. Regulus could only hope he’d receive forgiveness this time.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to hear that,” James whispered, like he too was giving a confessional. It was Regulus’ turn to look at him in shock, “I meant what I said. I am yours in any way you will have me. I’m completely gone for you, Regulus Black,” He spoke with such confidence. Honesty. He didn’t hesitate, even though the chances of rejection were exceptionally high. It reminded Regulus why he could never be a Gryffindor. He wasn’t nearly that brave.
“No,” His voice broke, cracking over the word. “We can’t . My family…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t admit his family would do things James probably couldn’t even imagine to him if he were to be with him. That despite that, he still felt responsible to do his duty to his family. He couldn’t do what Sirius had done. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t brave enough.
“Let me take you to dinner,” James said, determination plain on his face. Regulus couldn’t believe it.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said?” He scowled. James pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Regulus got the feeling he was being analyzed. “We can’t . This has to remain a one night stand. I have duties. Expectations. Responsibilities. I can’t throw all of it away…” ‘ No matter how much I want to’ was left unsaid, but he had a feeling James understood it anyway.
“Let’s make a bet, then,” James offered. Regulus was incredulous. He had to be daft. “Let me take you to dinner. If you still feel like you must ‘uphold your family name’ when we’re done, I’ll never speak to you again. You will be free of me. But…If you don’t, if there’s even a chance you think we’d be worth it… I’d be worth it. You have to let me take you out again.” He offered his hand for Regulus to shake.
“It sounds to me like you are losing either way,” Regulus pointed out, eyeing James’ outstretched hand warily.
“Then you have nothing to lose,” He countered. And maybe it was because he believed it would never work, or because he had a small bit of hope it would, or hell, maybe Gryffindor stupidity was contagious. Maybe he thought James might be brave enough for the both of them. Maybe it was a little bit of all of those reasons. Or maybe it was fate, pushing them together in yet another universe, pushing and pulling them like the tides until they ended up together. He’d never know. But there was one thing he knew for sure, looking back.
Regulus had never been so glad to lose a bet.
Bonus;
The next morning, James was one of the first people to the Great Hall for breakfast. Regulus had insisted he leave him to get ready after James had undone his tie and unbuttoned his uniform shirt for the third time in attempts to get him to bunk off classes and stay in bed with him. Regulus had all but shoved him out of the room after the last time, grumbling about disrupting his routine. They had ended up spending the night in the Room, not wanting to get caught after hours by Filch. Or, at least, that was the reason Regulus gave. James had a feeling it was really because he didn’t want to leave just as much as James didn’t. Either way, he’d gotten the pleasure of spending the night with Regulus pressed against him. He was over the moon with it, even if Regulus was a human ice pack. The pair had woken up to find their uniforms neatly folded on the dresser, courtesy of the magic room. Or maybe the house elves had sensed students in need of laundry and found their way to the room. He wasn’t planning on thinking too heavily about the gift.
James had been the first one to breakfast, even beating out the Ravenclaws who woke up early to study. If it were any other house he would chalk that up to everyone being out with a hangover but he knew for a fact that they prepared pepper up potions by the gallons the night before a party. He appreciated the hall being empty for once, because it gave him more time to plan out his date with Regulus. Just thinking those words made him ecstatic. He had a date with Regulus . He could swoon. Regulus had asked him about a dozen times how exactly he planned on getting them out of the castle when they most definitely did not have a Hogsmeade trip that weekend. He’d only accepted ‘ you’ll see’ as an answer in the end because he wanted James to leave him to get dressed.
He had about a million different ideas. He could take him to the Three Broomsticks, but that felt subpar. They could go flying, but that didn’t leave much room for actual conversation. It had been nearly a half hour and James had just started to plot out the details of what he thought was a rather brilliant plan. He’d bring him up to the edge of Hogsmeade, to a little hill he’d found ages ago. They’d have a picnic as the sun set (without him having to worry about what Regulus would actually eat, thanks to a picnic basket Moony had charmed to have direct access to the kitchen), then they could watch the stars. He knew astronomy was Regulus’ favorite. He seemed drawn to the stars as if he came from them, even as his family pushed him further from them.
He was pulled from his planning when Moony took his place at the table, across from Sirius’ empty spot next to James. His eyes widened when he looked at James, and it seemed for a moment he was going to say something. He clearly thought better of it. James assumed it was about the hickies littering his neck. Regulus had been quite generous with them when they were in the middle of things. He probably expected James to do the easy thing and heal them, or even just button his shirt all the way to cover them. But neither of those sounded quite as fun as watching Regulus try not to react when he saw him in class. Whatever the reason was, Remus was eyeing him suspiciously. James watched as he took a deep breath in, despite his attempts at subtlety. James swore he saw amber flash in his normally honey brown eyes, just a hint of the wolf lurking just beneath the surface. He narrowed his eyes, like James had suddenly become a rather interesting Arithmancy problem. James could only assume it was some sort of wolfy thing, based on the strange behavior. The way the hair raised on the back of his neck like he was being hunted did nothing to dissuade that assumption. Maybe Remus didn’t like the shampoo he’d used before the party yesterday.
“Prongsie!” Was all the warning he got before Sirius’ arms were flung around him in a suffocating hug. You would’ve thought it’d been a decade since they’d seen each other with the way he was acting. Sirius released him from his hold, only to grab him by the jaw. “Are you alright mate?” He asked, brow furrowing as he turned James’ head every which way, as if checking for injuries. Once he was satisfied that he hadn’t sustained some sort of major head trauma, he hit James on the back of his head.
“Ouch, Pads. I thought you were trying to prevent me getting injured?” James winced, rubbing his head. Sirius was getting quite good at that, and James could only assume he was learning from Remus who had a tendency to do that when tutoring the Marauders.
“You had me so worried when you didn’t come back to the dorm! I couldn’t even find you on the map. I thought you had died ,” Sirius wailed, “I hardly slept a wink.” Based on the fact that Sirius’ own uniform shirt was buttoned all the way for once, James had a feeling he was up late for a different reason. He didn’t point it out, it would be a waste of breath and likely wouldn’t get him out of whatever lecture Padfoot was preparing for him. Remus’ subtle snort proved his theory. Bloody hypocrite. Godric forbid anyone but Sirius got laid. Peter dropped into his seat beside Remus, looking absolutely miserable. James didn’t blame him, being trapped in a dorm all night with Moony and Padfoot could be awful.
“Oi, Prongs,” Peter called, concern lacing his voice, “Did you lose a fight or something, mate? What on Earth happened to your neck?” Oh Wormy. Sweet, innocent, Wormy. James could strangle him. Of course his naivety was the thing that brought Padfoot's attention to the hickies he’d miraculously remained oblivious to. Sirius’ eyes widened as he finally seemed to process the bruised littering James’ neck and what they meant.
“James…” He nearly whispered, as if he was uncovering some unholy truth. “You shacked up last night!” He broke out into a grin, and James sighed with relief. Apparently, that was enough for Sirius to forget about being mad at him, at least for the time being.
“Okay, you caught me,” James did his best to smile, even as he felt a horrible sense of impending doom. Sirius was going to ask who he shacked up with. And he didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t get him admitted to Saint Mungo's.
“And I thought I was the dog,” Sirius threw his arm around James’ shoulders again, ruffling his already unruly hair. “Who was it? Was she pretty? Was he pretty?” He waggled his eyebrows, the same way his tail would be wagging if he were Padfoot. He had been the prettiest person James had ever seen, but he couldn’t exactly admit that. He settled for shrugging.
“C’mon Prongs. What happened to no secrets between Marauders?” Remus spoke up, for the first time that morning. His voice was laced with feigned curiosity, but there was clear taunting in it. The traitor. His question only seemed to spur Sirius on. He likely took it as permission to harass James..
“Was it that girl from Hufflepuff?” Peter asked, even as he leaned into his tea like it was his life support, “What? She’s been hanging off him for weeks,” He added when Sirius looked at him incredulously. He wasn’t wrong, but it was surprising he’d been the one to notice it. Of course the only time Wormtail had sharp observation skills was when James needed everyone to be oblivious.
“No. It wasn’t,” James mumbled. He should’ve just let them assume it was her, it’d make everything easier, but the idea made his stomach twist. He didn’t want to lie to them. And more than that, he didn’t want people to think of him with anyone but Regulus. It was strange, just how quickly he’d gone from interested in the younger boy to wholly and absolutely gone for him. He chalked it up to fate, or destiny, or whatever their divination teacher was always going on about. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde, whatever that meant.
“Are you going to make us guess, then?” Remus raised an eyebrow. He’d made his way through two full plates in the span of their discussion and seemed to finally be satisfied. Unluckily for James. Maybe he already knew. That would explain his strange behavior. And out of the four of them, he was closest with the girls. James loved them, but Mary and Marlene were horrible gossips, and if anyone had already heard about his…outburst at the party, it was them.They’d probably heard about it from Lily, if she remembered anything from the night before. If they had told him, James had no doubt Remus had figured out exactly what had happened between James dragging Regulus out of the party and him showing up with hickies littering his throat. He should’ve buttoned his bloody shirt. James just shrugged again, hoping that maybe Remus would give up and take it easy on him. It was nearly a full moon, shouldn’t he be too tired for this?
“Not the Hufflepuff…Maybe a Ravenclaw then?” Sirius mused. It was almost funny that he didn’t even consider Slytherin an option. Remus didn’t seem to find it even vaguely amusing judging from the way he shot James a meaningful look. They knew each other so well they managed to have an entirely silent conversation.
‘ Tell him’
‘Tell him what?’
‘ You know what. Tell him or I will.’
And then Remus looked away, promptly ending the conversation. Who needed legilimency when you could stab your mate in the back through sheer knowing each other? Moony was a prick. What ever happened to bros before hoes? Just because he was right about him needing to tell Sirius that didn’t give him the right to say it. He was meant to support James in his delusions. That’s what friends were for! At least, that’s what Mary always said. But no, of course Moony prioritized his boyfriend . Stupid perfect Black genes, making men weak for decades.
“Well, she must’ve been someone important,” Wormtail mumbled, half asleep, “Prongs always heals away any hickeys.” Again, when did he become a master detective? They could’ve used him having any sort of observation skills loads of times, but of course he only was when it was inconvenient.
“You’re right Wormy,” Sirius crowed, triumphant that they had found a lead, “Oh my my Prongsie. Have you gotten yourself into a relationship? Without telling us?” He questioned, as if that was the most scandalizing thing he’d ever thought of. James needed to explain before he managed to blow everything wildly out of proportion.
“Listen, Pads,” He started, summoning all the Gryffindor courage he possibly could. At least he got to be with Regulus before he died. Before he could confess his sins and prepare for his execution, the door to the Great Hall was slammed open by the one man who seemed to treat interrupting him as his life’s purpose.
“ Yes , fine, we shacked up!” Regulus’ voice was raised as he rounded on his mate. Barty Crouch, the bastard. Apparently he’d pushed too many buttons. “Happy? Now drop it before you end up in the Black family Lake.” His voice alone was enough to make James’ heart skip a beat. Godric, he was perfect. Regulus’ wand was pressed to Crouch’s throat, and James had never been so jealous of a man having his life threatened. Crouch scrambling to hide beside Rosier’s back was enough for Regulus to collect himself.
He seemed to recognize half the Great Hall staring at him, because he straightened his posture and strode across the hall as if unaffected. Unfortunately for James, Sirius flagged him down as he walked past. James stared up at the ceiling, watching the stars dance there. He was glad he got to see them one more time before he died, even if they couldn’t begin to compare to Regulus.
“Yes, what do you want?” Regulus snapped, clearly displeased that his brother dared speak to him. Sirius opened his mouth, but before he could speak Regulus added, “I swear to Salazar if this is a lecture about me being an innocent flower, I will turn you into a dog permanently .” The threat hung heavy in the air for a moment. Sirius’ mouth shut. Regulus fixed his tie, seemingly satisfied with the fact that he’d prevented the lecture. James let his eyes follow the movement of his hands, watching his gorgeous fingers work themselves around the knot until Regulus was satisfied it was perfect. James froze. He broke out into a cold sweat, more scared than he remembered ever being. Neatly tied, pristine as the rest of Regulus’ clothing, was a tie. But it certainly wasn’t his tie. It was red and gold, and practically a neon sign displaying James’ guilt.
Sirius also noticed the tie. He glanced at James as if to say ‘ what the hell?’ but stilled. His eyes went from ‘ what the hell?’, to shock, to downright murderous. James had never seen him stay so still or so quiet for so long. He followed his eyes and then saw the thing they had both overlooked. In place of his own tie, there was a green and silver one, hung loosely on his neck. It laid just beneath one of his many hickeys.
“Padfoot, listen-” James started, but interrupting him must have been a secret part of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Bullfuckery’s family legacy, because he never got to finish pleading for his life.
He felt it before it actually hit him. The familiar sting of Sirius’ specific brand of magic. Sudden and bright, like a lightning strike, lighting James on fire before it ever even left Sirius’ wand. Sirius yanked his wand from where it was keeping his hair up, and before James could even process what was happening, he was slinging curses. He had to have been doing them silently because whatever he was hitting him with never made it to James’ ears, but even if Sirius wasn't he knew he wouldn't know what they were. Sirius had been working on making up his own curses and hexes for years, bored of using the same old ones to prank Slytherins.
The last thing James heard before blacking out was:
“You brother-fucking traitor!”