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Regulus is just ridiculous. Absurdly ridiculous.
It’s Friday night, and their friends had just left James’ apartment after a usual night out together, watching movies and eating junk food. The clock strikes one in the morning, and when Regulus closes the apartment door after Barty has left, James approaches him at the same second and says, accusingly:
“You did it on purpose.”
Regulus looks at him with an innocent expression and crosses his arms, responding in a charming voice:
“What are you talking about, Potter?”
James looks Regulus up and down, from the curls falling on his forehead, the Spider-Man shirt that belongs to James, the black shorts and the damn socks, which reach up to his thigh and highlight his legs in just the right way.
There are many responses that James thinks to offer to Regulus’ false words, however, he opts for a different approach, and just falls to his knees in front of him. Regulus weakens for a brief moment, his eyes widening and his fingers tightening where they grip his own arms.
“Please, Regulus,” James begs. Regulus sighs with a smile on his face, and runs his hand through James’ hair, running his fingers down to his cheek and making a caress that almost makes James believe that there is more between them than just the friends-with-benefits silent agreement.
“Whatever you want, Potter,” Regulus replies, and upon hearing his surname for the second time, James has to fight a smirk. Normally, Regulus always starts the night calling him Potter here and Potter there, until he goes by James and ends up with Jamie — and James loves that route, which becomes more and more familiar to him.
Without wasting his precious time, James tilts his head and begins to leave kisses on the small patch of skin available between the height of the sock and the bottom of the shorts on Regulus’ right leg, while his hand travels to the back of his left leg and presses with desire; Regulus’s savory sigh is the answer he’s been waiting for. Smiling, James leaves a hickey eagerly on the skin of Regulus’ thigh, and begins to move his left hand up from his heel to his ass, slowly squeezing the skin when he reaches his final destination.
Sometimes James finds time enough to worship Regulus as he deserves, and this is one of those nights. Over the two months they’ve been doing whatever this is, they’ve already ventured into different ways of fucking — fast and hard, holding back their moans and desperate to touch. But for James, his favorite moments are those where he can be slow and calm, worshiping at the altar that is Regulus Black. He discovered his divine beauty only recently, and James still needs more time to memorize every part of Regulus.
In those moments, he feels afraid of Regulus noticing that for him, this is much more than sex. But luckily for James, Regulus always has too much fun with him to notice anything beyond carnal desire.
“Can I?,” James asks shyly, holding the hem of Regulus’ shorts and looking into his blue-gray eyes with the greatest reverence in the world. Regulus’s smile is fatal, and when he whispers confirmation, James slowly slides the fabric down his legs, careful not to move the socks.
Regulus’s underwear is black, and James immediately salivates. However, he has time — and with that in mind, he begins a sequence of kisses and hickeys along Regulus’s thighs and groin, still without taking off his underwear and not touching him in his intimate area. The more teeth and intention James puts into his skin, the more Regulus’ noises begin to increase in volume and intensity, which doesn’t do any good for James and his inner desire.
However, that night is for Regulus. Regulus, Regulus, Regulus, and the way he brings his hands up to James’s curls when he’s bold enough to mouth into his underwear, where he’s dripping.
“I didn’t know you liked it slow like that,” Regulus murmurs, without any teasing tone. He just confirms a fact, a curiosity, something about James, as if they were getting to know each other. And for one thing, they are, but not in the way James wants.
He ignores the thought and lifts his gaze to Regulus, bringing his arms to his waist and clasping his hands behind his back. There, standing in the doorway of James’ apartment, illuminated only by the low light, Regulus is everything James once wanted in love. He’s soft and firm, his smile with a touch of delicacy that James has to fight not to lift up and kiss.
“I like taking time to appreciate you,” James admits, and the pink tinges from Regulus’ neck to face, and it’s the best thing of the night. He smiles, victorious, and finally pulls down Regulus’ underwear, helping him lift his legs to take them off his body like he did with his shorts.
James has Regulus in just his t-shirt and thigh-high socks in his apartment, and he feels like the luckiest man in the entire universe. He probably is.
Regulus moans passionately as James sucks him without warning, and his back arches automatically away from his mouth. James doesn’t allow it, grabbing his left leg tightly, throwing it over his shoulder and using it to pull Regulus against him, becoming even more excited when the action causes Regulus to let out another loud moan. He moves his lips from Regulus’ entrance to his clit, squeezing the back of Regulus’s legs hard enough to leave marks.
Another moan from Regulus encourages him, along with hair pulling, and when he arches his back once more, it’s toward James’ mouth, not away. For a brief moment, James want to stay there and be an observer of the scene at the same time; just the shape of that scene in his mind is enough to make his erection worse. He imagines Regulus with his head against the wall, his body arched toward him, his leg across his shoulder, and James moans shamelessly against Regulus.
“James,” Regulus complains, pulling hard on one of his curls. “Jesus, I hate how— oh! — you are so good.”
James smiles, and without thinking too much, pulls Regulus’ other leg against his shoulder, standing up with him sitting on his face at the same moment and walking in long strides to the living room rug in front of the sofa. Regulus moans and whines, pressing his hands into James’ hair and riding his face shamelessly. James is gentle as he lays him down on the floor, running his hand through Regulus’ hair down his back, and placing one of the pillows thrown on the floor behind his head, with a smile on his face.
The sweet way Regulus looks at him is extremely dangerous, and goes straight to James’s already pounding heart. The younger Black holds his face with both hands and leaves a kiss that’s too soft for what they’re doing; but, James supposes, they are being terribly more tender that night than they ever were during their sex, so there is no harm.
“Lift your hips, love,” James asks, and almost freezes when he notices the nickname escaping his lips without permission. It was one thing to refer to Regulus that way in his own mind, it was another thing entirely to allow the nickname to become real.
To his surprise, all Regulus does is make a whine sound, as if James’ words had turned him on just a little more. James takes the opportunity to ignore what happened, and when Regulus rests his feet on the carpet and raises his hips as he asked, he places another pillow under him, leaving one more kiss on his lips before starting to lower himself.
James returns his mouth to Regulus without thinking twice, almost groaning at how wet he remains — and how more wet he is — and when Regulus begins to close his legs around his head, James lifts his face and shakes his head in front of Regulus’s attentive gaze.
“Open your legs for me, love.”
Regulus groans in an almost offended manner.
And he opens his legs at the same moment, the sacred ballet stretching them further than other people could.
“You should stop saying things like that,” Regulus mutters, now clearly offended and even irritated.
“Yeah?,” James asks teasingly, smirking and resting his hands on each of Regulus’ thighs.
“You’re going to make me come early,” Regulus says, and there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone that makes James laugh. Shit, he thinks, I’m too happy and he’s not even my boyfriend.
“That’s the plan,” James replies, and lowers his head again. And this time, he doesn’t stop.
James sucks, nibbles and does all the things he knows Regulus likes over and over again, squeezing his thighs to keep his legs open, and delighting in Regulus’ disjointed moans. He tries to move his legs and lift his body, but James’ tight grip keeps him pinned in place, with just enough flexibility to move his hips a little, trying to straddle James’ face with a tone of desperation.
It is one of Regulus’s favorite aspects to James, although every Regulus in bed is adored by him. That Regulus, desperate, with his legs shaking and moaning loudly, undoubtedly took a while to be found, but he becomes easier to find every day that they continue to enjoy sex with each other. Deep down, there is a small possessive twist in James so that this particular Regulus belongs only to him; a cheer that gets stronger and more real every time Regulus reaches this point and stops moaning in a disjointed way, opting for a rhythm of:
“James! Shit—ahh, ah, there, yes! Right there… Jamie, Jamie, oh! Heavens! How—you’re… ahhh, yes, there, there, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie!”
Regulus moans even louder when James pulls his legs forward, pinning him even more against his face, and then, one more long, firm suck on Regulus’ clit, and he comes with the nickname Jamie falling from his lips. James continues with his mouth on Regulus, sucking him through the ecstasy of orgasm, and only lifting his lips when he is satisfied with the cleanliness. He follows a path of kisses along the skin of Regulus’ thighs, still having fun leaving a few hickeys, and making a slow and gentle caress on his legs, slipping his fingers under the hem of his socks.
“Jem?,” Regulus’ small voice calls and…
Oh.
That’s a new nickname.
James feels victorious about not admitting his feelings right then and there, because Jem is stupidly cute and delicious on Regulus’ lips. No one has ever called him that before, and James feels his heart beat quicken after finally calming down.
“Hm?!,” he murmurs back, climbing on top of Regulus still holding his legs. Maybe he has an unhealthy obsession with his legs...
Regulus says nothing, opting to smile at James and leave a kiss on his lips and thread his fingers through his hair. When he separates, he says in a slightly sly voice:
“You like the socks, huh?”
James smiles guiltily, and squeezes his legs.
“Definitely.”
Regulus lets out a laugh, and starts to gently stroke his hair. Cafuné, as his Brazilian side calls it.
“Just wait until you see the transparent black ones. I think I’ll wear them tomorrow when we go out with the gang,” Regulus comments, completely oblivious.
James grunts, and Regulus’ attention is gained again. He looks at the other with confusion written on his face sculpted by gods.
“You cannot go out in a black sheer thigh-high stocking. I’m going to want to have you in every corner,” James responds, squeezing Regulus’s legs and smiling as they rise and intertwine behind his back, allowing him to move his hands to hold Regulus’s waist.
The smile that appears on the youngest Black’s face is capable of destroying even the most well-built parts of James.
“Hmm… maybe I want exactly that,” Regulus replies, smiling devilishly.
Unpretentiously, James takes his hand to Regulus’ intimacy and presses his finger on his clitoris, his turn to smile devilishly as he hears him choke and press his fingers into the hair on the back of James’ neck.
“You’re going to come here first, and you’re going to let me have my time with you with your socks on,” James murmurs, lowering his face towards the right side of Regulus’ neck and nibbling on his ear, smiling as he feels Regulus’ legs pressing harder against his back. “Please. Or I will lose my mind.”
And despite James’ hand movements accelerating, Regulus smiles affectionately and answers whatever you want, Jem, before throwing his head back and groaning loudly.
In the end, Regulus doesn’t end up wearing the socks to go out — he drives to his apartment first, and the terribly thin fabric rips as soon as James’s nails dig into Regulus’ thighs as he rides him.
James promises to buy Regulus a new one, and Regulus responds with you better, because when James squats in front of him to take off the other untorn pair with his teeth, he can’t help but think that he needs all the big socks possible in the world, if it mean having that scene for the rest of his life.
ꕤ
As strange as it is, Sirius is the second person to learn about James and Regulus. The first, obviously, is Remus.
And despite almost a half-hour of lecture about how it’s a terrible idea to play with friends, Sirius doesn’t get as upset as they both had imagined he would. His excuse for this is that James and Regulus are two functioning adults, and that their babysitting phase passed a while ago.
But, Sirius says this to Regulus, because when James is alone in the apartment with him and Remus, Sirius is quick to shout in James’ direction, accusing him of already being in love with Regulus. On the day, James vehemently denies it — a week later, he plops down on the couch next to Sirius and confesses his feelings, to which his best friend just lets out a smug laugh, and proceeds to support him right away.
So, as much as Sirius — as well as Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, and all his friends who eventually discovered what was going on between him and Regulus — constantly warns him about how this friends with benefits thing is a terrible idea, James continues to fall to his knees — literally — in front of Regulus, and let him ruin his life as he pleases.
And when it all gets too much, James sits in his apartment, with Sirius, Remus and Peter, and just vents.
That Tuesday, it’s the same routine when James arrives from college at six o’clock in the afternoon, and finds Remus and Sirius looking at the computer, and Peter watching some program on television. He plops down on the empty sofa, and Remus closes the computer and looks at him with a sideways smile, already knowing what’s coming. But, it is Sirius who asks:
“What happened to Regulus now?”
Peter turns down the volume on the television a little, and turns to James, curious.
“Actually… well, is just that Fabian asked me out,” James says, and the room goes silent for a moment, the only noise being the low hiss of Peter’s television show.
Sirius looks at him, confused and says, “You can’t cheat on my brother.”
Remus looks at him tenderly, making James wonder how it took Sirius so long to realize that his other best friend was in love with him.
“It’s not cheating if they’re not dating,” Remus says, and as true as his rebuttal is, it still causes a small tug in James’ heart. Peter notices this, and smiles comfortingly at him, helping him a little to ease the small pain. “What did you say, Prongs?”
“I said no,” James replies, with a heavy sigh and staring at a spot on his rug to avoid looking at his friends. “And that’s when I realized that Regulus and I never even talked about whether or not we could date other people. We probably can, because this between me and him… it’s nothing. I’m the only one who’s letting my emotions deceive me.”
Remus sighs before starting, “James… I think maybe it’s time to talk to Regulus.”
James looks up at his friend, and gives him a slightly scared expression that makes him laugh a little. Then, he looks from Sirius to Peter, and sees both of them nodding their heads, agreeing with Remus.
He sighs once more.
“Yeah, I think so. I’m just… I’m afraid it’ll ruin everything.”
“And that’s why I said it was a bad idea but you didn’t listen to me!”, Sirius exclaims immediately, only to be silenced when Remus brings his hand to his mouth. Peter lets out a loud laugh, and James can’t help but laugh as he looks at the scene.
And despite the shitty situation he finds himself in, James realizes that in all the possibilities that could happen, he will eventually be okay, as long as he has Sirius, Remus and Peter with him.
ꕤ
Despite everything, James doesn’t tell Regulus about his feelings the next time he sees him. No, he can’t, because all he has to do is walk into the bar and see him and he’ll remember why he keeps putting himself in that painful situation with Regulus — it’s better to have a little of him than none.
Maybe one day Regulus will find someone worth meeting and going on dates with, someone he’ll like and even love, and then he’ll set James free from that prison with benefits, and James will find his way on his own until he’s fine again.
Remus must understand James’s thoughts, because when Regulus grabs James’ hand and drags him out of the bar, Remus’ look is a mix of I understand you and man, you’re screwed. Even so, James appreciates the look and feels a little stronger with it. Wizard, this Remus.
“Reg, where are you going to take—,” James starts, but Regulus stops abruptly at the corner of the bar and turns to James with big, bright eyes and a smile that stretches from ear to ear.
“Did Sirius tell you why we came to the bar?,” Regulus asks, and when James shakes his head, a little confused, he replies, “I did it, Jem! I got a seat at the London Symphony Orchestra!”
All of James’ doubts disappear the moment the news reaches his ears, and he takes the remaining steps to hug Regulus and spin him in the air with excitement. One of the cello chairs in the London Symphony Orchestra has been Regulus’s ambition for years, and James’s chest fills with the fondest pride in the world to know that Regulus has what he wanted. Even though he never had any doubt in the first place that that chair was already his.
“Love, this is the best news in the world!,” James exclaims, and Regulus lets out a laugh that lights up the entire city of London. He takes Regulus down from the air, but continues to wrap his arms around his waist, smiling broadly at him. “I’m so proud of you! My most sincere congratulations, love, truly.”
Regulus’ smile joins the pink tint of his cheeks and almost drives James insane. To make matters worse for him, Regulus closes his eyes and leans his face forward, bumping their noses affectionately and threading his fingers deeper into James’ hair.
But when he opens his eyes and moves a few inches away from James’ face, there’s a pout forming on his lips.
“I drove to your apartment to tell you, but you weren’t there,” Regulus says, and James raises his eyebrows in a confused expression.
“In the afternoon? I was in college until now, practically,” James responds and Regulus lowers his pout.
“I think it was around four o’clock in the afternoon. I drove there as soon as I got the news. I wanted to tell you first and in person,” Regulus says, simply and as if he hadn’t sent James’ heart into a sequence of wrong, racing heartbeats.
James responds with just a tilt of his head, taking him into his lips at the same moment. Regulus sighs against the kiss, as if he’s spent the entire day waiting for this moment. The thought that Regulus has received incredible news and the first thing he does is drive to James’s apartment to tell him first and personally gaslights him, and suddenly Regulus is against the wall of the bar, James in the middle of his legs with a hand on each of his thighs, and trying to contain his moans as James’ lips continue to find his earlobes and the sensitive skin of his neck.
“Baby,” Regulus whispers against James’ ear, and he holds back the growl against the younger Black’s neck.
He barely got used to Jem, and now a damn baby? Maybe this is just Regulus’ diabolical plan to kill him without doing anything compromising. If so, Regulus will emerge successful, James is sure.
The noise of people leaving and entering the bar, however, slows them down, and James is breathing heavily as he forces himself away from Regulus, who is also in the same mood. The two press their foreheads together, and smile stupidly, trying to control their breathing and calm the way their bodies try to move towards each other, searching, searching, searching.
“Later?,” Regulus asks in a whisper, smiling fondly. “I want a celebration of our own.”
For a moment, James is sure his cheeks are going to tear up from the size of his smile, but there is Regulus, in front of him, smiling, blushing and asking for more. For something just theirs. James wishes for that every day of his life, and thinks that if he were lucky enough to find God, he would beg for that fate on his knees.
James nods, and the two separate, walking into the bar again with just two fingers intertwined, which soon let go when Marlene shouts something from the table where they are sitting, and Regulus rushes over to them. James doesn’t follow him, and goes to the bar counter, asking for the cheapest beer and scratching the back of his head with a little nervousness. His heart still pounds against his chest, and all of Regulus’ latest actions boggle his mind.
Remus sits next to him, a beer in his hand, and smiles at him reassuringly, without saying anything in particular. When he gets his beer, James sits down in the chair next to Remus, sighs, takes a sip and says:
“Will it kill me that I would rather have this little bit of Regulus than none of him?”
A somewhat stagnant laugh escapes Remus, and he responds with his characteristic sincerity:
“It might bring you more trouble than you think, but it’s your choice, James. And I’m still by your side.”
James sighs once again, and buries his face in his hands, grunting louder than expected and hearing Remus laugh. Well, he thinks, at least this whole situation serves to amuse Remus.
“James, come on,” Remus says, touching James’s wrist with his beer bottle. “Where is the incurable romantic who would rather love than feel nothing?”
Remus patiently waits for James to look up again, and smiles encouragingly at his friend, although the features on his face betray how amused he is by James’s exasperation. After years of complaining about his terrible crush on Sirius, James supposes it must feel good to receive that same level of pining and yearning from those who listened to all his sad reports.
Perhaps Remus also thinks about this question, because he says in a caring tone of voice:
“It’s always a Black, huh?”
James lets out a laugh, and toasts his beer with Remus’s.
“Always a Black.”
When Remus finishes his beer, orders another and James is halfway through his, they return to his friends’ table, and James finally has the opportunity to greet them all — earlier, he had barely stepped foot into the bar when Regulus was already there, taking him outside, excited and holding his hand. James ignores all the suggestive looks his way, even more so when he sits next to Regulus. That’s the worst part about everyone knowing about their little deal; looks say everything they choose not to say, and Lily and Marlene always stare at James as if waiting for him to confess all his secret feelings for Regulus right there.
It sucks, but at the same time, it means he can sit next to Regulus without arousing suspicion because everyone knows they’re… well, friends with benefits.
But another downside: everyone also knows they’re no big deal, so when a man — who looks terribly like James— appears at the bar, sitting at a table almost next to them, Barty says:
“Hey, Reg, that’s exactly your type!”
He points his head at the man, and everyone looks at him at the same moment. Lily lets out a small laugh, and James looks at her with a small disapproval; he knows what she’s thinking, and when she mutters without sound one just like you! he increases the power of his gaze, only receiving both of her hands rising in surrender.
“Hmm…,” Regulus murmurs, almost as if he was considering going home with the man. What can he do, and James can be discarded, because they are… nothing.
Nothing. And James could have accepted Fabian’s invitation for a date because he is a single man.
But, to James’ utter horror and surprise, Regulus says, his tone slurred and dripping with suggestiveness:
“Thanks for the warning, Barty, but I already have someone to go home with tonight.”
And as expected, the entire table explodes into loud noises that are muffled to the other people in the bar through the loud music. Barty and Evan scream excitedly and slam their hands on the table, Sirius grunts in disgust, Remus and Peter let out loud laughters, Pandora and Lily also let out screams, while Mary and Marlene do the same as Barty and Evan, and Dorcas leans in to give a toast with Regulus’ cup. James, red as hell and smiling stupidly, takes Regulus’s opportunity to put his arm around his waist and move even closer to him, to the point that Regulus has to place his left leg on top of James’s, almost sitting straight on James’ lap.
He clicks his glass of whiskey with Dorcas’ glass of beer, and then puts his left arm behind James’ back, laying his head on his shoulder and hiding his smile in his neck. Marlene and Dorcas shout words of encouragement at Regulus’ own words, while Sirius discusses how inappropriate it is for him to know such matters. James lets out a deep laugh, and whispers into Regulus’ ear:
“You will hear so much from your brother tomorrow.”
Regulus rests his chin on James’ shoulder, and looks at him with his eyes twinkling and shining, a small smile on his lips.
“Are they having breakfast at your apartment tomorrow?,” Regulus asks quietly, making sure no one hears him.
James closes one eye in a thoughtful expression, and Regulus laughs too fondly for his own good.
"Probably yes. Are you thinking about sleeping over?,” James asks, already smiling at the idea alone. There aren’t many times when they actually sleep together, which makes every time special, even if Regulus sleeps a little too stiff, as if he’s afraid to touch James in any way outside of the sexual.
“Hm, I think maybe we’re going to your flat late, so I thought I’d leave in the morning. But, then I can always ask for an Uber. I don’t know if you have anything in the morning,” Regulus replies, slurring his words a little, and as James listens to him, he smiles a little brighter and cups Regulus’ cheek, moving closer until he leaves a kiss on his lips.
Regulus closes his eyes and immediately smiles.
“Sleep at home, love. It’s no problem at all,” James replies, leaving one last kiss on the tip of Regulus’ nose and turning away from his face just in time to be hit by a potato chip, thrown by Sirius.
“Stop it!” he begs in exasperation, making the entire table burst into laughter.
James throws the fries back at Sirius, and silently asks: may it be like this forever.
ꕤ
There is a change that night.
James feels it starting the moment he enters his apartment with Regulus in his arms, and continues feeling it when Regulus lies down on his bed, legs open with James buried between them, and slow kisses shared between thrusts and moans. James feels it even more when they take a shower together, and Regulus leans on the sink in his bathroom, letting himself be dressed by James.
It’s been two months since they started their deal, and there are already some of Regulus’s clothes in James’s apartment — it’s a pair of his green underwear, washed a few weeks ago, that James has hiked up his legs, and it’s his ankle socks that he puts on his feet, because he knows how Regulus gets cold in the middle of the night, especially his feet. However, James lets himself be fooled and chooses a shirt of his own to cover Regulus’ chest, kissing his scars affectionately before pulling the shirt down.
Regulus smells like his soap, and the freshness that exudes from him it is terribly intoxicating. James allows himself to leave kisses on his neck, and squeezes some of his wet hair to remove the rest of the water, leaving it damp.
“Hmm…,” Regulus murmurs, smiling. “You’re so good to me, Jem.”
Jem, Jem, Jem — the nickname is like a stab in James’ heart, while also being the best thing that ever happened to him.
“I’m really proud of you,” James murmurs, kissing the space between Regulus’ eyebrows and smiling when he bites his bottom lip, failing to hold back a smile.
Regulus runs his hand from James’ temple to his neck, and James wonders how he could ever have doubted that his own touch is nothing more than medicine, a cure. There is no venom or rudeness in Regulus’s touch, at least not when it is for James.
“Are you sleepy?” Regulus asks, and James shakes his head, even though he’s a little confused by the sudden question. Although they thought they would get home late, the tiredness of a day’s work made Pandora and Lily want to go home before ten o’clock at night, and everyone followed. It must have been midnight, and James wasn’t the best at going to bed early. “We could watch that show you like, Modern Family.”
James knits his eyebrows together in confusion, and as grateful as he is to know that Regulus still wants more waking time with him, he knows how to read some Regulus; when he turns on something at night, close to bedtime, it’s because he’s anxious.
“Are you okay, love?” James asks, ignoring the nickname as usual. It has already become something beyond his control, and as long as Regulus doesn’t say anything, he will continue; because he doesn’t even know if he’s capable of stopping.
Regulus smiles, and presses his finger into the space in the middle of James’ eyebrows, where they’re almost together from the way he’s frowning. Under Regulus’s touch, his features relax.
“I am, baby.” Baby, baby, baby. “I guess… I’m scared? It’s serious work. I don’t want to make a mistake. I don’t want to fail.”
Despite Regulus’ small smiles, James recognizes the truth behind his words, and leaves a kiss on each side of Regulus’ face, making him smile a little more firmly.
“It’s not going to be anything like Whiplash or Black Swan, is it? If they treat you like that, I’ll kill them all,” James retorts, and Regulus smiles even wider. “But seriously, love, you’re going to be great. It’s okay to make mistakes here and there, but hey, they want you there, and they’ll teach you what you need to do. You are one of the most dedicated people I know, so I have no doubt that you will crush this work.”
Regulus sighs a little exasperatedly, and pulls James into a hug as soon as he finishes speaking, standing on tiptoe and making him lean towards him. James almost feels breathless in Regulus’s tight grip, as if he’s afraid that James will pull away from him or be taken away. He squeezes Regulus with the same reciprocity, taking his hands under his shirt and squeezing his back to guide his body against his.
James leaves a wet kiss behind his ear, and when Regulus squeezes his shoulders, he trails the kisses down to his neck, feeling a little bolder when Regulus lets out a grunt, throwing his head back and bringing his hands to the corner of the sink, squeezing it tightly. There’s something about the way Regulus is easily driven to the edge by even simple kisses from James that makes him almost go crazy.
But, he tries not to delude himself, he tries not to think too much, and just dwells on Regulus’ sweet smell, the sounds he makes, and the way he wants him. When James lifts him to sit on top of the sink and then lays him back, busying himself with kissing and sucking him lower, he lets his thoughts fly away, leaving only the litany of Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
There is poetry when Regulus’s legs are wrapped around James’ waist, and rhymes in his arched back — James convinces himself that he doesn’t need anything else, that this is good in itself. But when they finish, clean themselves up once more and lie down on James’ bed, his computer on from one of the episodes of Modern Family, James knows he needs more when Regulus pulls his arms to wrap around his body and embrace him.
He knows he can’t just have little nameless moments with Regulus: he wants it all, all of him. James knows that he cannot demand any of this from Regulus, any reciprocity, which leaves only the option of ending the whole circus.
James hates how it sounds like the worst thing in the world.
ꕤ
The worst part about letting that whole circus go on longer than it should have: James knows exactly what it’s like to have Regulus on his knees, swallowing him whole, and always delivering the best blowjob performance in the world.
Terrible, the fact that Regulus is the best. James always feels like he’s either going to die there, with his underwear down and on Regulus’ lips, or that he’s never going to stop cumming, darkly insatiable — James is dramatic, and sex is nothing more than an opportunity to be even more dramatic.
In the bathroom of Remus and Sirius’ apartment, James contains his moans by biting his wrist, which becomes an even greater challenge when Regulus digs his nails into his back, scratching him mercilessly. Outside the room, his friends must be enjoying the funny scenes from some comedy film they chose for the night, while James gets lost in the way Regulus circles his tongue and squeezes his thighs.
Now he understands the exasperation that Regulus feels every time James spends long minutes nibbling and squeezing his thighs with desire and want. It’s absolutely intoxicating—and he feels a little sick, too.
Maybe he should be less of a sex addict.
But, he doesn’t remember being like this before sex with Regulus.
Not that this is Regulus’ fault.
James changes his mind when Regulus opens his mouth and covers its entire length; it’s definitely Regulus’ fault.
It doesn’t take long for him to cum, warning Regulus with a touch to his cheek, although he doesn’t do anything different, swallowing him whole. James bites his wrist harder to prevent the moan he wants to come out when he sees Regulus licking his lips from actually coming out.
“Good?,” Regulus asks, smirking in that devilish way. And James looks at him in that exasperated way he feels post-sex, and Regulus lets out a laugh.
He gets up from the floor and sits on top of the sink, while James pulls up his underwear and his special date night jeans. Shit, he thinks—in an hour, he’s got that date with Fabian, and all he’ll be able to think about is that just a little earlier, Regulus was driving him insane with just his mouth.
Regulus looks at the pants curiously, and immediately asks: “Aren’t these your pants for special nights?”
James looks at him with a tone of surprise. Regulus has his hands behind him, leaning on the sink and his legs are a few centimeters apart, his thighs getting bigger from lying down; James wondered what it would be like to lie in them. Jesus, he thinks, I need to stop obsessing over his legs.
“Well, tonight is a special night,” James responds simply, and Regulus looks at him with interest, more curiosity, and a bit of amusement.
“Movie night? We do this practically every week,” Regulus retorts, a teasing tone in his voice.
“I have a date after here,” James finally responds, his honesty getting the best of him.
There’s no reason for Regulus to care, is there? After all, it’s increasingly clear that they’re nothing more than friends with benefits. And Regulus must be seeing other people too. Sometimes Barty comments a few things here and there that only add to that certainty, and James is a little tired of being left behind.
Furthermore, there are other fish in the sea that are not Regulus. The sooner James finds someone to love, the sooner he will come out of the spell Regulus has cast on him.
“Oh!,” Regulus exclaims, and his features are now harder, almost uncomfortable. “Hm… Who’s the lucky one?”
“Fabian, that friend of Peter’s,” James replies, sensing and choosing to ignore the change in the bathroom’s atmosphere. From sex to a weird tension that he doesn’t know how to identify.
Something about the way Regulus is looking at him is just strange, unpleasant, and James almost asks him what he can do to change it.
“Ah, yes,” Regulus responds simply, and then adds: “I went out with his brother a few weeks ago. Gideon.”
And there’s all the confirmation James needed — Regulus is also getting dates and having fun, so it’s okay for James to do the same. There’s nothing wrong.
Remus’ words return to his mind with the same force as when they were said: it’s not cheating if they’re not dating.
“Yeah, well, he’s been trying to date me for a while, so I decided to give it a chance,” James says, smiling small. Almost a fake smile.
Regulus nods, then lowers it, scratching the back of his neck. Everything about his actions are strange, and James feels an itch to go to him and hold him, to comfort him, to shake away whatever is wrong. Except a part of him also feels that what’s wrong with Regulus is James. But what the hell did he do?
“I hope you have fun,” Regulus says, looking back at James and then scratching his cheek. James notices the high sleeve of the sweater he’s wearing, which covers his knuckles, and when he looks down, he realizes it’s his light blue sweater that went missing two weeks ago.
James almost growls in frustration, but he ignores the whole unusual interaction, and responds with a small smile, “Thank you, Regulus.”
He leaves the bathroom then, squeezing his leg before closing the door, and Regulus takes longer than usual to get out of there. When he returns to his seat next to Pandora, James sees her ask if he is okay; when Regulus shakes his head and gestures for them to talk later, James feels his heart sink to the floor.
The discomfort Regulus leaves in his soul isn’t healed by Fabian an hour later, and when he gets home and thanks him for the night, James realizes he’s more screwed than he thought.
ꕤ
The light blue sweater appears again on Saturday, when the whole gang gets together in one of the city’s bars. However, despite wearing James’s shirt, Regulus quickly greets him and sits next to Barty, ignoring the empty seat next to James.
James feels his stomach turn and a sadness hits his heart at the almost cold way Regulus treats him, and he has to control himself from falling to his knees in front of him and begging him to tell him what went wrong. Remus looks at him suggestively, as does Lily, but James ignores them so as not to lose his temper.
He waits patiently for an opportunity, and when it’s just him and Regulus left at the table, James gets up and stands next to him, extending his hand towards him. Regulus looks conflicted for a brief moment, looking from James’s hand to his face, until he reaches out and intertwines it with James’s. James pulls him lightly to his feet, and without saying anything, leads him out of the bar, around the corner, like Regulus did to him a few weeks ago in another bar.
The night is cold as it surrounds them, winter arriving in long strides, and Regulus hugs his body before looking at James with a confused expression.
“Are you okay?,” James asks, biting his bottom lip then. “You barely spoke to me today.”
Regulus raises his eyebrows closer and looks at the less busy street.
“I didn’t know if… I should talk to you…,” Regulus responds, and James walks the steps that separate him and takes one of his hands to his chin, guiding his perfect face to look at him. Under the dim streetlight, Regulus looks almost sad, as if he also means no harm in talking to James. Like he’s also uncomfortable with the idea of not being right next to James when they’re both in the same place.
“What are you saying, Regs?” James asks, confused.
“Well… you’re seeing Fabian, aren’t you? I don’t want to… get in between…,” Regulus responds simply, shrugging in the way he does when he’s trying to convince someone that nothing in the matter is important. But James can read through him, and the realization that Regulus cares about who he dates hits him hard.
James struggles not to let out a laugh, feeling stupidly happy to know that he’s not the only one with strange feelings — not to mention loving, because he still won’t delude himself enough into believing that Regulus loves him — for the other.
“Please, love, I only went out with him once and it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” James replies, a shadow of a laugh in his tone. Regulus bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and there’s a glint coming into his eyes.
“So you’re mine again?,” Regulus asks, moving his hands to James’s waist and kissing the palm cupping his chin.
James has felt like saying he’s his since the first time he laid eyes on him. He feels like saying no, he’s not Regulus’s again, because he never stopped being in the first place. He feels like saying that Regulus ruined him for anyone else: and not just in the sexual sense they’re used to. No, in the sense that James is sure that Regulus’s smile is the most beautiful in the whole world, and that no one will ever hug him the way Regulus hugged him the day he won his seat in the London Symphony Orchestra, and that James will never be happy with the achievements of a possible partner in the same way he is with Regulus’s achievements.
But James doesn’t say anything—he just smiles, like he always does, and kisses the tip of Regulus’ nose, cupping his face with both hands and wishing he had a camera with him so he could take a picture of the utterly blissful expression of someone who doesn’t belong to him, but sometimes he allows himself to believe so.
“All yours, love,” James responds, and Regulus stands on tiptoe to kiss him.
A sigh escapes James mid-kiss, and they turn what was supposed to be an innocent peck into a slightly too strong performance of a gigantic kiss, only managing to stop when someone whistles at them, and they both burst into laughter. Regulus tilts his head back with laughter, crossing his arms behind James’ neck, and exhaling the familiar scent of strawberries. James feels like insanity is going to hit him soon.
When Regulus looks back at James, there’s a new spark in his pupils, one that James doesn’t know how to interpret correctly, but that he quite enjoys seeing. One of Regulus’s long, slender fingers comes up to tuck one of his strands of hair behind his ear, and runs a path from his ear to his collarbone, across his neck and sending goosebumps all over his body. Everything Regulus does, no matter how simple, is the best thing in the world, and James feels stupidly in love.
“We should be exclusive,” James says without meaning to, and his eyes widen immediately. Okay, he thinks, that’s not quite what I meant.
Regulus’ eyes widen a little as he looks at him, but soon relax into a calm expression, and he responds:
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” and he laughs when James’ expression turns to one of pure hope. “I don’t know how your searches are going, but I haven’t found anyone better than you yet.”
James assumes the most arrogant expression in the world, almost not going back to his high school years, and Regulus immediately rolls his eyes.
“I’m the best you ever got, huh?,” James teases, and Regulus pulls out of his arms and slaps him on the head, starting to walk back to the bar.
Before Regulus can escape into the bar, James runs up to him and grabs him around the waist, turning his body so he’s in front of him and pressed against his, and taking his mouth in a kiss. Regulus softens in his arms, and lets all the support he has be James’s arms, which tilt him back a little and squeeze his back, pushing his body closer against his. Gasps and small moans escape each other’s lips, and the kiss becomes one of James’ favorites, without a doubt.
James is practically breathless when they break from the kiss, and all he can feel is where his body meets Regulus’s and the way his fingers touch his jaw and cheeks. They stare at each other in a daze, and James feels better knowing that he wasn’t the only one who felt the power of that kiss, the way it was slow, just right, and intense in a completely insane way. James kisses him the same way again, and the second time they part, he manages to say:
“You’re the best I have too.”
Regulus’ smile goes straight to James’ heart, and even as they stumble on the way back to the bar, they find each other’s lips, and James can’t remember when he’s felt this happy—stunned with love, and stupidly happy.
They separate at their friends’ tables, meet on the dance floor, separate to get their drinks, and meet again in the bar’s bathroom, locking themselves in one of the cubicles and having sex, almost shamelessly, with James covering Regulus’ mouth with his hand to prevent him from moaning loudly, and him having to bite his shoulder to contain his own moans. It’s when his chest returns to its normal breathing, and they hold each other, that Regulus whispers:
“We’re going to be exclusive. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
James smiles against the skin of his neck, where he has his face buried. He doesn’t overthink it, doesn’t think about how he so desperately wants to be more than sex for Regulus, because there, in the bathroom of a bar, still in the haze of sex, James feels like it’s enough. For that night, for that moment. Afterwards, he has all the time in the world to regret it, but when Regulus hugs him and falls into comfortable silence, James decides it’s best to deal with it later.
When Regulus leaves a kiss on his cheek as they leave the bar and have to follow each other to their apartments, James regrets it — not being honest, not telling the truth, not shouting to everyone how he is totally in love with Regulus Arcturus Black, and how he is the most beautiful person in the entire world. James remains standing in front of the bar, still feeling the ghost of Regulus’ kiss on his cheek, and watching him walk away from him, through the streets of London that lead them to meet and then separate them.
It’s Pandora who appears next to him, clapping her hand on his shoulder and smiling in that comforting way so characteristic of her. James looks at her with a small smile on his face, unwilling to pretend that she isn’t looking at him and seeing his true passionate side.
Pandora says nothing about this, and chooses to suggest, with a smile on her face:
“You should ask him out.”
She leaves the same way she came, and James feels his jaw drop slightly. Remus appears to take him home, and he remains silent the entire way, wondering if it’s a good possibility, what Pandora told him. Just… ask Regulus out. For a date.
It’s not something he’s ever imagined before, or wished for in his dreams — there’s a spark of trepidation and fear that swirls around just the simple idea of asking Regulus out. What happens if he is rejected? James tries to understand if it’s worth risking everything and trying his luck; maybe Regulus says yes, even though he’s not that well-known for being involved in romance.
Maybe he’ll say no. James convinces himself that if he says no, everything will be fine anyway; he can just erase the messages and pretend that nothing happened.
He goes to bed at one in the morning, and thinks until three-thirty in the morning. At four o’clock in the morning, he sends to Regulus:
you
hey, want to see a musical with me next week?
The answer arrives at eleven o’clock in the morning:
regs <3
of course, baby :)
ꕤ
James never had a photographic memory.
The best at remembering every little detail is always Remus: be it place, date, time and even what each person was doing. James never understood how he managed to keep so much information, but when he shared a room with him at school, it was the best thing in the world — while James couldn’t remember where he put any of his things, Remus could tell exactly where they were.
But as soon as James stops in front of the door to Regulus’ building and he appears with a smile and red cheeks, James knows that this is his photographic memory moment. He knows he will have no choice but to keep every little detail about meeting Regulus in his mind, just like he did the first time they got together two months ago.
It’s the kind of thing James hopes to remember even when he’s old and gray-haired.
He hopes to remember that Regulus wore low black boots and a small heel, light brown pants with beige stripes and loose on his legs, a black blouse with emails i can’t send written in small letters, the usual rings that he never takes off, and a small brown clip. James prays he remembers how shy and blushing he was every second, and how blindingly he smiled when James clasped their hands together over the car console.
James doesn’t even understand why he was so nervous about that date, and why he had spent every day until Friday night thinking about all the reasons it could go wrong. When he walks into the theater with Regulus wrapped around his arm and leaving a kiss on his shoulder, James knows he’s going to be alright. He needs to, because James isn’t sure he can handle getting so close, only to be pushed away brutally.
Regulus is the dream. And James hopes it comes true.
“So,” Regulus whispers, his arm still intertwined with James’s and his fingers leaving a caress on his shoulder. They are already seated and just watching movements on the stage behind the curtain, and people entering and taking their seats; but when Regulus begins to speak, James turns his entire face and attention to him. “Why a musical for a first date?”
James feels the breath being ripped from his lungs as he processes Regulus’ words: so he knows this is a date, and he doesn’t care about that fact. No, he’s still there, sitting next to James and smiling, waiting for his answer. James is pretty sure he’s found paradise, and he hopes he never leaves it again.
“Well, I know you love musicals,” he begins, hoping his voice isn’t shaking. “And I know that sometimes you get… overwhelmed on dates, with so many necessary conversations. So here, we don’t need to talk much.”
All James can see is the blue-gray of Regulus’ eyes as they widen, and then Regulus’s right hand gently cups his jaw, gently pulling James’ face towards Regulus’. There is sweetness and passion when their lips touch, Regulus leading the kiss in a quiet, slow tune, a kiss that belongs only to them, even if they are in a public place. James sighs into the kiss, holding Regulus’ neck with the gentlest touch.
Things usually differ with each moment he spends with Regulus. Sometimes James feels like holding Regulus tight enough that he will never be separated from him again, not even for a second. And sometimes, James just wants to be the gentlest, most delicate touch Regulus knows, treating him with the lightness he deserves. So most of the time, James just follows Regulus’ pace, knowing that he would spend the rest of his life just fine just following him.
When their lips inevitably part, James opens his eyes and feels his heart sink as he sees Regulus still with his eyes closed and a dreamy expression on his face. James feels as if he were a football player, who has just scored the fatal goal for the game, and driven by his excitement, he lets out a laugh and leaves a kiss on Regulus’ cheek, finally seeing him open his eyes and smile small at him.
“You’re so beautiful,” James says, his voice strong and confident in the truth he's saying. Regulus’s entire face makes it clear how he likes to be called beautiful, and James hopes to spend several days with him to always remind him how breathtaking he is.
“Shut up,” Regulus retorts, with no real tone of irritation, and placing his hand on James’s face to lead him away. On the other hand, the same hand runs down his arm, until it meets James’s hand and intertwines with it.
Even when the curtains open and the play begins, James can’t take his eyes off their intertwined hands, and the caress that Regulus’s finger leaves on his skin.
ꕤ
There are more things that James commits to memory, during the rest of the night of his first date with Regulus.
Like the fact that Regulus let James wipe his tear-stained face at the end of the musical, and immediately held his hand again so that they were practically shoulder to shoulder. He doesn’t ask where James is taking him, just following him as if it were a normal and safe action for him to do.
But, when they arrive at his favorite restaurant, which he doesn’t go to as often as he would like because it is... a little too expensive, Regulus makes a point of scandalizing all the customers entering and leaving the place, kissing James as if he had been starving for days. James never refuses a kiss from him, and happily accomplishes the gigantic display of affection in public, nuzzling his nose into his neck to alleviate the shame that rises throughout Regulus as soon as he realizes what he’s done.
There is tinge of pink on Regulus’s cheeks and neck when the attendant refers to them as the Potters, although the walk from the restaurant door to outside, where James insisted on booking, causes the blush to subside. Regulus, easy to embarrass as always, blushes a few minutes later when James’s hand finds his thigh under the table, leaving a caress over the soft fabric of his pants. In revenge, Regulus holds James’ hand across the table without fear, and this time, James is the one blushing as if he had just eaten a pepper.
They talk about so many things, and James separates the most important parts, the pieces of Regulus’s soul that he recognizes almost as well as if it were his own, and keeps them to try to remember as long as he has the chance to live that life. James retains the softness and tranquility of Regulus, sitting in front of him, holding his hand, his face lying down and supported by his other free hand, and his bright eyes telling James secrets that he thought he would never have the opportunity to know.
The topics are varied — the musical they just saw, the next musicals Regulus wants to see, their individual works, the friends that surround their lives, their dreams, their human nonsense, and the little details about themselves that are shared on first dates. The difference is that James already knows a lot about Regulus, and Regulus already knows a lot about James; they are not strangers to each other. In reality, it’s more the opposite. And yet, there are things they don’t know that well, and the idea of getting to know each other even more makes James’ heart almost jump out of his rib cage, taking up space at the dinner table.
Regulus gives in without fear, and James knows, or at least has the realization at that moment, when Regulus puts a forkful of sweet potatoes in his mouth and one of them falls from his lips onto the plate, causing him to form a pout, which all the feelings that wracked James’s heart, body, mind and soul are not first date feelings. No, they’re not. James is used to his own intensity, but this is different.
The feelings beating inside his chest are probably the feelings that motivate someone to ask for a partner in, for example, marriage.
And in a heartbeat, James thinks: I would marry Regulus Black.
Merda.
“Jem?,” Regulus calls, and James wakes up instantly, following the direction of his voice. “Are you fine? You seemed… lost for a moment.”
The words come out without being heavy or thought out, but they are true all the same.
“Regulus, I think I love you.”
The sound of Regulus’s fork falling onto the plate is deafening to James’ ears, and all other external sounds are ignored by him.
Regulus’ eyes are wide, and James can’t remember if he’s ever felt any kind of fear like this before in his life.
“You what?” Regulus asks, his tone a little higher than he normally speaks.
James thinks about what to say, but it’s still the same words as when he didn’t think of what to say.
“I think I love you.”
“You think?”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure.”
“You love me?”
“Yes. I love you. I’m crazy about you, honestly.”
“You love me.”
“I love you.”
Regulus’ eyes are no longer wide in an exaggerated way, but James can make out the small lines of trepidation, of fear, of doubt, contouring his face. The face James loves so freaking much.
“How can you love me?”
James lets out a laugh. “I just love you, love.”
“That easy?”
“Yes, that easy,” James replies, a smile dancing on his lips.
“I’m not easy to love. This is impossible.”
“Um, I think you’re quite easy to love, actually, but maybe I’m just being a little biased.”
Regulus’ face contorts into a pained expression for brief moments, and he lets out a grunt.
“How can you be taking all of this so calmly?”
“Because it is love, Regulus. I’ve been doing this since I was born.”
Regulus’ voice is low, sincere and painful in James’s heart: “I am not.”
James smiles for the nineteenth time in a single night, and extends his arm across the table, letting his hand approach Regulus’s right hand, currently resting on top of their dining table. Fear tries to knock on his door and enter his heart, but James ignores it even before its arrival; He knows he’s on the path to destroying everything that’s ever happened between him and Regulus, but it’s not like he can go back and change his words.
And he doesn’t want to do any of that either. It’s the purest truth: James Potter loves Regulus Black. Did you hear, universe? Now deal with it.
Conflicted, Regulus stares at James’ hand, and his eyes are soft even as they are guarded by storms of doubt and fear. Regulus grunts once more, and his index finger touches James’ palm, running through imaginary lines and the real lines of his skin, a caress so delicate and pleasant that James almost closes his eyes to better concentrate on the sensation of his finger, of Regulus strolling across his skin as if it were his second home.
Regulus’ skin is James’ second skin, anyway. He would like Regulus to see his skin like that too — but maybe none of that makes sense and he's just being another crazy person in love out in the world.
Regulus leans forward, and leaves a kiss on James’ palm, knocking all the air out of his lungs. When he straightens his posture again, his eyes meet James’s, and they reflect nothing but love.
“This,” he says, and points between himself and James, “could ruin everything.”
James smiles, feeling the anticipatory vibrations of hope.
“It might be the best thing ever, too.”
Regulus smiles, and intertwines his hand with James’s.
“You’re going to need more than me, you know?”
James shakes his head, smiling: “Trust me, love, I won’t.”
Regulus’ smile dazzles the entire damn earth, and possibly the entire universe. And it is just for James.
ꕤ
Regulus’ moan echoes throughout the apartment, and James digs his nails into the thigh of Regulus’ right leg, knowing he doesn’t mind the red, abused skin after sex.
“Baby, please,” Regulus begs, and James smiles against his neck, thrusting harder and smiling even wider when Regulus’ moan manages to be louder and deeper this time. “Um—shit, Jamie.”
Both of Regulus’s wrists, held above his head by one of James’s hands, make movements to try and free themselves from their prison, and James knows that Regulus must be dying to thread his fingers through his curls, or to hold his waist and help his hips to straddle more. Still, James tortures him, only holding tighter to his wrists and smiling when Regulus chokes.
He doesn’t even know which wall it is — the one in the living room, perhaps? Or the one in the kitchen? Or did they manage to get to the room? All James knows is the way he fits perfectly inside Regulus, the feeling of having him against him, and how Regulus moans even louder, released by the loud music from upstairs, which haunts the entire building.
Regulus is quite a sight: his naked legs, wrapped around James’ waist; his wrinkled black blouse; the skin on his neck covered in hickeys and his messy hair, with sweat running down his face. The expression on his face varies from pure pleasure to a bit of a groan here and there, and James wants to keep him in his life forever and ever, devouring him and worshiping him as he deserves. So deep in thought, James doesn’t even notice when the Portuguese words start to escape his lips.
“Merda, amor — você é tão lindo. Puta merda, ah! Meu, meu, meu.”
Just one more thrust, and Regulus lets out his loudest moan of the night, cumming at the same moment and almost blacking it out completely. James lets go of his hands, holding him around the waist to make sure he doesn’t fall to the floor, smiling at the way his body softens and cumming soon after. Regulus makes a sly noise when he feels James pulling out of him, and opens his eyes, meeting James’ gaze at the same time.
“Portuguese, you son of a…,” Regulus mutters, and James stares at him with his eyebrows drawn together. He draped his arms around Regulus’s back, still holding him and not even bothered by his slack. “You spoke Portuguese. I hate you. You’re so… Ugh, I hate you.”
James lets out a deep laugh, and tips his head back, missing the almost hungry way Regulus looks at him.
“Revenge for all the times you came up with your perfect, delicious French,” James retorts, and Regulus smiles, burying his face in his neck.
They don’t talk for long minutes afterward — James takes him to the bathroom, sitting him on the sink while he lets the tub fill with water. He prepares Regulus’ bath as he knows he likes it, and joins him when asked. The two bathe in silence, exchanging only shy glances and soft smiles, in addition to James’ usual kisses on Regulus’ cheeks and neck.
It is only when they are dressed, and Regulus sits cross-legged on James’ bed, in front of him, that the first conversation arises:
“So this is sex after ‘I think I love you’?” Regulus says, a playful tone in his voice that makes James laugh.
James remains lying on his side of the bed, but rests his hand on Regulus’ knee and smiles as if he had just received the best news of his entire life.
“Better or worse than friends with benefits sex?” James asks, biting his bottom lip.
Regulus pretends to think for a few seconds, but responds confidently and sincerely, “Definitely better, baby.”
James sighs and closes his eyes, smiling when he feels Regulus’ hand rest on his cheek, delicate.
“I love it when you call me baby. And Jem. Nobody calls me that, and I love it when you say it. I love my name in your voice too. I think my name was created so you could say. James was made for your tongue, and your tongue alone.”
“I love you.”
The words are almost silent, and James opens his eyes instantly, looking for Regulus in the partial darkness of his room. He himself hears the accelerated beat of his heart, and now he has the best news of his entire life. There, in his room, after a first date, confessions and sex, Regulus says he loves him, wearing his clothes, and smelling his soap.
“Do you love me?” James asks, dumbfounded.
Regulus smiles, eyes shining.
“Yeah, I’m surprised too.”
James jumps on top of him in seconds, leaving kisses all over his face and neck and squeezing his waist with his hands. Regulus laughs as if there is no greater happiness in the world for him, and his fingers intertwine with James’s curls.
“Say it again,” James asks and stops kissing him to look at his face. Regulus is still smiling. Regulus is still there. Regulus is still one of the best things in James’ universe.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Okay. I love you too.”
Regulus laughs again when James bites his cheek.
ꕤ
It's four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, on a long holiday until Tuesday, and the room is dark from the cloudy, rainy weather outside the apartment. James is almost certain that he and Regulus have been lying in that bed since two o’clock in the afternoon, when they finished eating lunch — and he feels tremendous peace.
Regulus is wearing his gray sweatpants and his Spider-Man shirt, lying on his stomach and with his eyes closed, also feeling the same peace that James feels. And it’s magnificent, being like that; even more so after the turbulent week the two had had.
Telling his friends had been… an experience. All the reactions had been extremely positive, but they had used it as an opportunity to get pissed off and be completely hateful. James had already had enough of Barty’s playful pats, and he was sure that Regulus would burn a house down if Remus reminded him again not to hurt James.
Still, they loved those assholes. But, it was nice to have time just for them.
It was all so recent still. James knows that one day, that routine of being together with Regulus will become normal and common, and it will continue to be one of the best things in the world. However, it was still new, and he was loving every little bit of it. Like, for example, being able to spend an entire holiday with Regulus.
“Jem?”, Regulus murmurs against the pillow, still with his eyes closed, and lazily, breaking the silence in the room.
“Yes, love?”, James murmurs back, turning to face Regulus’ back at the same moment, awaiting his next command with a smile on his face.
“Scratch my back?”, Regulus asks, in the sweetest tone of voice possible and making James’ heart fill with the softest love.
He lets out a small laugh and at the same moment, he throws his legs over Regulus’s and lifts his shirt — or rather, his shirt — until it is at the level of his shoulders, placing his hands on Regulus’ back. Like several parts of his body, Regulus’ back also has small parts full of sardines, as well as a few dots here and there. And James loves it, as he loves every part of Regulus.
James loses track of how long he stays there on the bed, running his fingers gently down Regulus’ back, scratching him and smiling at the wonderful feeling of being in his presence. After a while, James gets closer to Regulus, and starts leaving wet kisses all over his back.
Regulus sighs deeply when James leaves a small bite on his skin, and James smiles against his back, too in love.
“You love me so much, it’s pathetic,” Regulus murmurs, his tone full of love in an unmistakable way.
That, too, is still fresh: Regulus’ reminders that he is loved and accepts that love willingly, and all of his passionate mannerisms that James now knows exactly what they are.
James leaves another kiss on his back and lies down on his side of the bed again, and responds with a smile:
“Yes, I do love you so much.”
Regulus turns to him, and smiles, leaving a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Turn around. It’s my turn.”
James smiles with all his teeth showing, and says:
“You love me so much, it’s pathetic.”
Regulus bites him hard on the back in retaliation, and James laughs, the thought with all the certainty in the world: I’m going to marry him someday.