///

The noise Benjy made was almost enough inspiration for him to continue being ridiculously petulant for a virgin – ex virgin now, he supposed – and to go all over again. But in the aftermath, he felt himself shaking and every slight jostle sent a sensation of ‘too much’ through him. He stroked Benjy’s hair with quivering fingers and kissed along his jaw instead. Any place he could reach, any way he could encourage.

When Benjy moved, he let out a whimper then weakly glared at himself for the audacity of such a noise.

But then his boyfriend was moving him, kissing him and any irritation vanished in an instant. He let himself be moved, unsure and aching as he accepted the quiet praise and further soft touches. His own hands moved, trailing over skin as he tried to get a grasp on what happened. It was overwhelming, the aftermath. The newness of it, the willingness in which he went into it.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, still leaning into the touch but keeping his gaze lowered. After everything, he wasn’t sure why this was a part where he felt the most confusion.

Regulus didn’t do particularly well with vulnerability and a part of him wanted to push away Benjy’s gentle touches. But the larger part of him, the side of him that had been reduced to dull pleasure and a pleasant ache in his limbs craved it. A need to validate what had happened, to ground him after a rush of endorphins he’d never experienced before. He felt light – he felt sated and warm and good. But he’d never felt so defenceless, so lost in… happiness.

He wanted Benjy to take care of him. He didn’t even understand what that meant, not completely, but the attentiveness made him shudder. It was almost more intense than the sex, the want for someone to look after him. He didn’t particularly understand why he would now with no other ulterior motive in sight other than just companionship and touch. Regulus looked at him with reservation and he could still feel a tremble in his limbs from his first… first everything.

Hesitantly, he nodded and closed his eyes. “Is it always that intense?” he murmured. “I don’t know how anyone gets anything done if orgasms are like that every time.”

"This? Is all part of it," Benjy explained. He pressed the cloth against him, slowly cleaning and accompanying the movements with less deliberate touches. "I'm nowhere near done with you, but a bit of cleanup is the bare minimum to expect." He didn't want to go into more there, to explain the future and different experiences and all that sometimes, he wished he had. The difference was, he wasn't going anywhere. He'd do this and more for Regulus as long as he would let him.

"If there is anything I can do for you, just ask." Satisfied, he tossed the cloth aside and replaced the area with his hands. He traced lazy patterns across his skin as he wiggled to situate himself against Regulus's chest. Here, he could tuck his face into his neck and revel in him, in them. He could easily look up and check in on him. Most importantly, perhaps, he could feel him there. Breathing slowly, hopefully feeling as  good in this moment as he did.

Benjy would call that difficult to achieve, but he was confident enough in his abilities to know Regulus was right there with him. He could feel him coming down against him, still, and all Benjy wanted was to hold him through this. To listen to him, to make sure he was okay, that there were no regrets or hesitations and then—oh, and then. Throw the casual compliments around to get him to blush again.

Safe to say he would be abusing that.

Benjy had just moved to brush his fingers along Regulus's hairline when he asked his quiet question. He started shaking his head, about to say that he was better, when the full meaning settled on him. He pushed himself up on his elbow to better look at his boyfriend.

blackwick-au​:

cause i’m having a good time || june 1979

It was weird – dating but also not dating Benjy. It wasn’t technically dating and it certainly wasn’t anything exclusive or set in stone. It was an effort – on Benjy’s end, at least. Regulus was still being particularly and perhaps a little unfairly stubborn but he wasn’t prepared to budge on that yet. It was a building of trust, getting to know one another. Sometimes, to Regulus at least, it was proof that his ex was actually willing to put in time for him. The more time now, the less likely he would be to leave him again.

Regulus still believed this would end in misery; it was good Benjy had faith in them, he supposed. He wanted to be able to love him as freely as he used to, instead of silently eating dinner with him and answering questions before going to sleep missing him. But without fail, Wednesday had become their day. It was routine enough that Regulus regularly checked the clock leading up to the evening and listened out to his return. It was never a set time, but there was an allotted space where he -

He caught his thoughts before they romanticised a simple meal together. Ridiculous, pathetic. And far too hopeful.

Sure enough, Benjy came in and called out. Despite being very invested in his arrival, Regulus simply gave a small hum and didn’t drag his eyes up from his book. He wanted too – of course, he did. Benjy didn’t stop being breathtakingly gorgeous despite the excursions, whatever they were, he went on. Regulus listened as Benjy moved around, barely absorbing the words on the page in front of him.

He did glance up from the table at the suggestion and raised a questioning eyebrow. Benjy looked… unsure. Almost nervous. There was a faint blush on his face when he turned away and Regulus frowned at it.

He looked at the bag, then at Benjy, then back at the bag again. His eyebrows furrowed and he pouted in mild annoyance at not knowing what was putting his roommate on edge.

“I’m not hungry yet,” he offered when Benjy began to backtrack and he closed his book with a decisive snap, resting his elbows on the table after it. His gaze narrowed in on him. “I want to do whatever is making you fidgety. Stop… doing whatever you’re doing over there and go through with your original plan immediately.”  

Benjy knew he didn't have much of a poker face to begin with—Regulus was the master of emotions in this... acquaintanceship—but it always felt like he had a better read on him than most. If nothing else, Regulus had the fewest reservations about calling him out for those incredibly obvious feelings. In this case, his complete inability to hide his conflict over whether this was a terrible idea.

Probably.

He still went over to table after washing his hands, drying them hastily on his jeans. Small movements, forcing himself to take his time—to take a few breaths. If he was holding his breath just thinking about touching Regulus, he was absolutely going to blackout when he actually did. Couldn't have that. Talk about a real damper on the evening.

"You've gotten bossy," Benjy noted as he settled into the chair across from him. "Not sure what to do with that."

Especially since it's kinda hot, he thought.

"Especially since it's kinda hot," he said.

He wasn't embarrassed by saying it, not necessarily. No, he was conscious of his need to rein it the fuck in. He couldn't be flirting with his ex-boyfriend on their one sacred night a week. Not excessively, not at every turn, not when he was already trying something new. Sure, it slipped in here or there the past few weeks, but he was really trying to keep within their established boundaries. He'd do whatever it took to keep this going.

"I was thinking..." Benjy trailed off and reached for the bag. "After, you know, Sirius and his makeover—and I know a lot of it wasn't your thing!" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Who the fuck am I?" he muttered. This was no big deal. It could only change everything or nothing at all. It was fine.

change of season | july 1979

The casual way this Mudblood touched him was repulsive. She felt her lip twitch, threatening to curl into a snarl. But Regulus had already retreated away from her at her previous words – such a disappointment. He was so easily manipulated, she should have sent him to Beauxbatons. Instead, Walburga silently watched their exchange with thinly veiled impatience. The soft way her son was looking at this filth made her want to curse them both. 

This Muggleborn, Fenwick, presumed that they would not return? Foolish. Regulus may be lost now, but no one knew her sons better than she did. Truly, if she desperately wanted to, there was more than likely a way to manipulate Sirius back into her grasp. But he was polluted beyond words, a continuous and everlasting disappointment and a stain on her house. Regulus, while a disappointment, had never been quite so vocal in his foolish rebellion. There was something salvageable there. 

Regulus leaned into this boy’s touch – revolting. “I’m allowed to be worried about you, Fenwick,” he murmured to him. 

This did cause Walburga to scoff. “I am presuming you told people you were here, yes? I am no fool, darling. If your Mudblood-” Regulus glared at her. Walburga rolled her eyes, “If your Muggleborn lover goes missing, I will be the first suspect, no? I do not fancy Azkaban. I am in mourning, the Dementors would have quite the time with me.”

She took a step forward, extracting her son from the boy’s grip. “And you heard him, he’s scrappy.” she mocked before forcing her face to soften. It was a considerable effort and even Regulus looked surprised by her sudden tender expression. “I do not want to do anything to harm you further, Regulus. It is not my intention to cause my son pain. You know this, don’t you?” 

Regulus stared at her with confusion and remained silent. This time, he did flinch away when she reached for him. Ah, her kind act was startling him. She took a step back and tried to mask her irritation with a gentle smile. “Go, love. I promise not to hurt him. I would not want to do anything to jeopardise our relationship.” 

“We… don’t have a relationship.” her son replied. But he didn’t seem to want to push it further and he looked over at the other boy with a tenderness that she had certainly never showed him. She’d get that out of him too, in time. It was unbecoming for him to openly show such weakness. “I’ll be upstairs. Seriously, shout and scream if you need me. You’re more important than material items.”

When Regulus had finally made his way up the stairs – with unsure glances as he did – Walburga turned her back on the Muggleborn and focused her gaze back on the Tapestry. She meant what she had said to him, she wasn’t idiotic to do him any harm at this moment or even by her own hand. She needed her son to return to her of his own free will and injuring his temporary infatuation would do nothing to help that. 

And this Fenwick child had broken her son before. He’d been lenient and amiable after that. She just had to get him to do it again. 

Her fingers grazed over his name on the tapestry. “You should feel honoured to even be here,” she said to the boy behind her. “It’s deplorable that you’ve somehow gotten your filthy hands on my son. As though you have any right.” She cast a look over her shoulder to sneer at him. “You are not worthy and yet here you stand. I am too soft on him. I will ensure that, when the time is right, others will not be soft with you.” 

"Not right now," Benjy said. Maybe it wasn't appropriate to be coy in this moment, but he couldn't help himself. He had a boyfriend—his words—to reassure, and a mother to annoy. "Not today."

He wasn't so stupid to think Regulus didn't have a point. This wasn't a safe place for him, but he would rather be cursed than to see Regulus return here. He would take whatever Walburga Black had to throw at him if it meant Regulus would walk through those doors again. So yes, maybe there was reason to worry about him, but Benjy had his own set to tend to.

Benjy's expression only turned when Walburga pulled Regulus away from him. He stepped forward with them, refusing to give her the satisfaction of distancing them. Warnings, names, valid points and invalid—he had no time for any of it.

"No," Benjy answered coolly when Regulus did not, "I don't think you've given him a single reason to think you wouldn't hurt him, in any sense of the word." After all, it was easy to keep her promise if she argued that she did not lay a hand on Regulus, but that was not the only way to cause him pain. He knew just how capable she was doing so with words alone, and he saw the plan unfolding now.

Benjy slipped his hand into Regulus's, determined to have his touch be the final one in this room. Almost as important as the last word.

"You have my word." The words came with a risk, playing his cards fast and loose. He needed to keep his edge, he wanted Regulus to know exactly where he stood, so he stood up on his toes and brushed his lips feather light against his cheekbone. A reminder that he didn't have a relationship with his mother, but he had Benjy however he wanted him. "Go, babe. Get it over with."

He watched him go, aware of Walburga but not looking at the woman. He had too much to say to her—much of which would fall into the "picking a fight" category. It meant he had to wait for her to start, to decide which way this was going to go.

"Should I?" Benjy asked. He turned slowly, watching her fingers trace over a name that had no business being there. "I'd say it's a fine house because my mum raised me well, but it's not. It's positively dreadful." He shrugged. "I was also taught not to be a liar." 

He shoved his free hand in his jacket pocket and took a couple idle steps in her direction. "I will say I was honored when Regulus put his hand in mine. I felt perfectly worthy up in his room back in December when he chose to trust me all over again and leave this wretched home behind. I won't lose any sleep after walking out of here again, once he has his things." He met her gaze with an unflinching smirk.

"My filthy hands, my filthy mouth." He raised his eyebrows. "My filthy blood. Regulus really did get all the wit in this family to go with all the compassion. A killer combination, and not a lucky one at that. Takes a lot of strength to keep that alive against what I'm sure was your best efforts to bring him down."

Benjy rolled his shoulders and turned away from the tapestry. "I'm here for Regulus," he said plainly. "Not because I feel like I have some right to him, but because he's important to me." For other reasons, too. The reasons he would not say to this horrible woman before he had a chance to tell them to Regulus. "He chooses me, and I do not take that lightly. Everyday, I work to ensure he made the right choice, not to keep him but to reassure him he made the right choice.

change of season | july 1979

It was only the second time Benjy had stepped foot in his… probably boyfriend’s childhood home, and he had to say, he cared for it even less now. He thought, with one of the terrible patriarchs of the family down, maybe it would have cooled it, for lack of a better phrase. Instead, he felt all the more out of place.

No, there was nothing good about it, but he was glad he had Regulus to channel that energy into. Not only because he could wind up in some serious trouble touching things he wasn’t supposed to—as Regulus reminded him not once but twice. Annoyed as he was, he had to admit it was warranted. Within seconds of settling into the horrible family tree he’d heard so much about, he itched to busy himself with the rare trinkets and artifacts scattered about the room.

More than that, he wanted to scorch Regulus’s name off the damn thing himself. He was sure he could tell whether it had been there all along, or if his mother had restored it for whatever fresh hell she was going to hit him with, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to look hard to see Sirius and Andromeda were gone.

Frankly, he couldn’t care less if it was a slight on his own validity. He was genuinely concerned with what Walburga Black was trying to pull here. 

To an outsider, he might look like he was orbiting around twin stars as they came together and pushed apart, but his axis was Regulus as he stayed a couple steps behind him or switching into his periphery as needed. He was there for support, and he would offer it, but this was also a confrontation long coming and all too necessary. Hard as it was to admit, this wasn’t his fight.

Benjy had the utmost confidence in him, but a few of the dozens of knots in his stomach came loose when he heard Regulus say he wasn’t staying here. He knew, of course he knew, but it was such a firm stance. He would be leaving here with him again.

He was exactly where he needed to be when Regulus moved towards him. His hand reached out, settling naturally against his lower back to let him know he was there and okay behind him. He had his back, he wasn’t going anywhere, and he was weirdly unfazed. He knew he should flinch, should feel the highs and lows of being called his boyfriend then a slur in two sentences, but he only felt steady in his deference to Regulus in this environment. He was leaning into his energy.

“It’s okay,” Benjy said levelly. He stepped forward but didn’t move his hand, meaning the only option was to be right up against his side and hold him—not tight enough, not long enough, but there. “Go get what you need, and we never have to set foot in here again, yeah?” Not until the day came to clean out his mother’s cold, dead body, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that aloud in front of her. Not anymore, at least. Okay, maybe he was, but Regulus was dealing with enough peculiar grief right now; he didn’t need Benjy pissing on his mother’s preemptive grave, and wasn’t that reason enough for self control?

“You’ll just be a floor up, right?” He wondered if Walburga would realize he’d been here before, that he’d “stolen” Regulus away. He wondered if she already knew. “She won’t be able to do any serious damage before you can get to me,” Benjy whispered. A reassurance for him only. God, he wished he could get his much deserved reward for not tempting fate the many ways he already could have. “I’ve gotten better at this. I’m scrappy.”

He gave him a light, reassuring smile. It was balanced by his wand sliding into his hand—a bit presumptuous, maybe, but he wasn’t going to waste even a half-second to get it out against anyone in this family. She was either going to try some shit, or she wasn’t. Being ready for it wasn’t going to be the deciding factor.

The casual way this Mudblood touched him was repulsive. She felt her lip twitch, threatening to curl into a snarl. But Regulus had already retreated away from her at her previous words – such a disappointment. He was so easily manipulated, she should have sent him to Beauxbatons. Instead, Walburga silently watched their exchange with thinly veiled impatience. The soft way her son was looking at this filth made her want to curse them both. 

This Muggleborn, Fenwick, presumed that they would not return? Foolish. Regulus may be lost now, but no one knew her sons better than she did. Truly, if she desperately wanted to, there was more than likely a way to manipulate Sirius back into her grasp. But he was polluted beyond words, a continuous and everlasting disappointment and a stain on her house. Regulus, while a disappointment, had never been quite so vocal in his foolish rebellion. There was something salvageable there. 

Regulus leaned into this boy's touch – revolting. “I’m allowed to be worried about you, Fenwick,” he murmured to him. 

This did cause Walburga to scoff. “I am presuming you told people you were here, yes? I am no fool, darling. If your Mudblood-” Regulus glared at her. Walburga rolled her eyes, “If your Muggleborn lover goes missing, I will be the first suspect, no? I do not fancy Azkaban. I am in mourning, the Dementors would have quite the time with me.”

She took a step forward, extracting her son from the boy's grip. “And you heard him, he’s scrappy.” she mocked before forcing her face to soften. It was a considerable effort and even Regulus looked surprised by her sudden tender expression. “I do not want to do anything to harm you further, Regulus. It is not my intention to cause my son pain. You know this, don’t you?” 

Regulus stared at her with confusion and remained silent. This time, he did flinch away when she reached for him. Ah, her kind act was startling him. She took a step back and tried to mask her irritation with a gentle smile. “Go, love. I promise not to hurt him. I would not want to do anything to jeopardise our relationship.” 

“We… don’t have a relationship.” her son replied. But he didn’t seem to want to push it further and he looked over at the other boy with a tenderness that she had certainly never showed him. She’d get that out of him too, in time. It was unbecoming for him to openly show such weakness. “I’ll be upstairs. Seriously, shout and scream if you need me. You're more important than material items.”

When Regulus had finally made his way up the stairs – with unsure glances as he did – Walburga turned her back on the Muggleborn and focused her gaze back on the Tapestry. She meant what she had said to him, she wasn’t idiotic to do him any harm at this moment or even by her own hand. She needed her son to return to her of his own free will and injuring his temporary infatuation would do nothing to help that. 

And this Fenwick child had broken her son before. He’d been lenient and amiable after that. She just had to get him to do it again. 

Benjy coaxed Regulus through it, muttering soft words about how good he was and altering the pace of his hand and his hips to his reaction. As encouraging as his tight hold and enthusiastic kisses were, Benjy didn’t try to hold on. He could see him slipping—hell, he didn’t blame him—and followed him over the same edge soon after. He didn’t mean to break the kiss as he came with a choked moan, but his body wasn’t listening to him anymore.

Not until his mind caught up a few seconds later. Not until he found himself back in touch with his general faculties and used that awareness to gently, carefully slip out of him. He pulled Regulus into his side and followed the movement with a tender kiss. He never wanted to let him go, never wanted to be free of this or the absolutely cliche truth of how much better it could be with someone he cared about a terrifying amount.

“You are so good, Regulus Black,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, to each of those ridiculous cheekbones, to his chin then his mouth. He held him there with one hand, keeping them pressed together. He was aware of his possible discomfort—with himself, with his touch, with his general, absurd worry about not knowing what he was doing. Not that Benjy would ever invalidate his feelings but when that was their first time—his first time, well fuck. He didn’t have much to be worried about. Especially not once they learned more about each other, about those likes and dislikes and what really sent him over the edge.

Benjy used his free hand to reach the shelf behind them and retrieve his wand. He conjured a warm, damp washcloth. It would be nice to be clean, sure, but that wasn’t his motivation. He wanted an excuse to keep touching Regulus, to move against him and explore, and to—

“Let me take care of you?” It was a question and instruction. Something simple, something he wished he’d had. He found he liked telling Regulus what he was doing, letting him in. It was beyond knowing that his boyfriend wanted the awareness—something he figured out quickly and was only reinforced tonight. Dare he say, it was starting to define them.

The noise Benjy made was almost enough inspiration for him to continue being ridiculously petulant for a virgin – ex virgin now, he supposed – and to go all over again. But in the aftermath, he felt himself shaking and every slight jostle sent a sensation of ‘too much’ through him. He stroked Benjy’s hair with quivering fingers and kissed along his jaw instead. Any place he could reach, any way he could encourage.

When Benjy moved, he let out a whimper then weakly glared at himself for the audacity of such a noise.

But then his boyfriend was moving him, kissing him and any irritation vanished in an instant. He let himself be moved, unsure and aching as he accepted the quiet praise and further soft touches. His own hands moved, trailing over skin as he tried to get a grasp on what happened. It was overwhelming, the aftermath. The newness of it, the willingness in which he went into it.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, still leaning into the touch but keeping his gaze lowered. After everything, he wasn’t sure why this was a part where he felt the most confusion.

Regulus didn’t do particularly well with vulnerability and a part of him wanted to push away Benjy’s gentle touches. But the larger part of him, the side of him that had been reduced to dull pleasure and a pleasant ache in his limbs craved it. A need to validate what had happened, to ground him after a rush of endorphins he’d never experienced before. He felt light – he felt sated and warm and good. But he’d never felt so defenceless, so lost in… happiness.

He wanted Benjy to take care of him. He didn’t even understand what that meant, not completely, but the attentiveness made him shudder. It was almost more intense than the sex, the want for someone to look after him. He didn’t particularly understand why he would now with no other ulterior motive in sight other than just companionship and touch. Regulus looked at him with reservation and he could still feel a tremble in his limbs from his first… first everything.

Regulus wasn’t sure which feeling to latch onto. The pressure in his lower abdomen, the way Benjy’s fingers linked with his own to keep him grounded while the rest of him felt completely shattered? He’d heard about the sensation before – unwillingly, from Rabastan usually but sex and pleasure was not exactly a rare discussion for others their age either. But experiencing it was a completely different thing.

Maybe they were all on to something. Not that he could think about that now.

He whispered Benjy’s name again, his first name – rare, but he had no motivation nor any real strength to play into their usual teasing dynamic. Not when Benjy was being so attentive, not when his voice sounded so gentle while his actions were so consuming. He nodded along to his words, even though he wasn’t sure what letting go would actually mean – not beyond the theory of it anyway.

He definitely wasn’t thinking about theory either.

A harder thrust, a tightened grip and Regulus felt himself snap with a choked off moan. A sudden shock, a burst of pleasure that ran through his limbs and he clutched back onto Benjy. He heard heavy panting, mindless babbling – and after a few moments of incoherency he realised the sounds were coming from him. His arms wrapped about Benjy’s neck and he pulled him back into a messy kiss -  half to shut himself up and half to spur the other boy on.

The sensation hadn’t stopped, but it was edging towards overwhelming as he held onto his boyfriend. He wanted to encourage him through words, to make him feel as good as he did. But his mind drew a blank and his thoughts grew foggy. He just tightened his grip with a quiet whine and continued to try and kiss him.

Benjy coaxed Regulus through it, muttering soft words about how good he was and altering the pace of his hand and his hips to his reaction. As encouraging as his tight hold and enthusiastic kisses were, Benjy didn't try to hold on. He could see him slipping—hell, he didn't blame him—and followed him over the same edge soon after. He didn't mean to break the kiss as he came with a choked moan, but his body wasn't listening to him anymore.

Not until his mind caught up a few seconds later. Not until he found himself back in touch with his general faculties and used that awareness to gently, carefully slip out of him. He pulled Regulus into his side and followed the movement with a tender kiss. He never wanted to let him go, never wanted to be free of this or the absolutely cliche truth of how much better it could be with someone he cared about a terrifying amount.

"You are so good, Regulus Black," he whispered. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, to each of those ridiculous cheekbones, to his chin then his mouth. He held him there with one hand, keeping them pressed together. He was aware of his possible discomfort—with himself, with his touch, with his general, absurd worry about not knowing what he was doing. Not that Benjy would ever invalidate his feelings but when that was their first time—his first time, well fuck. He didn't have much to be worried about. Especially not once they learned more about each other, about those likes and dislikes and what really sent him over the edge.

Benjy used his free hand to reach the shelf behind them and retrieve his wand. He conjured a warm, damp washcloth. It would be nice to be clean, sure, but that wasn't his motivation. He wanted an excuse to keep touching Regulus, to move against him and explore, and to—

“Am I?” Regulus asked with a small smile, fingers still lightly brushing over his waistband. He hummed as he evaluated his expression, tried not to let the compliment go to his head. Especially as usually praise went to his head and made him a blushing babbling mess. Even now, he felt his cheeks flush but he decidedly did not go weak under him.

Mostly because he wasn’t under him. That was a nice change.

He still followed wherever he was led – not so different then, he noted – and let himself be kissed as he worked open the button on Benjy’s jeans. He opened his eyes just a fraction to watch Benjy take his wand, and didn’t feel the usual stab of protectiveness over it as he would with anyone else casting magic with it, before pulling back completely when he heard a thump and looking over. He couldn’t help but join Benjy in his laughter.

“That’s useful. Well done.” Regulus teased before tugging at the bottom of Benjy’s shirt as a hint for him to take it off. He quickly pulled off his jumper and went back to kissing Benjy’s neck, humming at his words. “You can have me whenever you want.”

And then paused. And pulled back again. He blinked down at him, letting Benjy take his hand and staring blankly. Because oh. Oh, he’d never thought of that – not really. He was thinking about it now.

“Um,” he said, eloquently, biting down on his lip. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it. He enjoyed it, there was no reason why they shouldn’t switch the positions. But he once again found himself clueless. He’d gotten comfortable and used to Benjy being on top. This was new territory again. But, through his nerves and uncertainty, he knew he’d do anything Benjy wanted.

And he wanted him to feel good.

“Okay.” he said after a moment, pushing himself up so he was kneeling on the floor. “I can – yes. Sure. I can do that. Just um-” he groaned. Of course, he wasn’t above reverting back to awkwardness. “I’m not exactly paying attention to what you do when you… y’know. So you might have to… guide me?” Regulus winced at his phrasing and pouted at him. “Sorry.”

"Don't let it go to your head," Benjy replied. He couldn't let that happen. He liked too much the way Regulus blushed under every compliment, the way his body reacted in... other ways. He didn't know what he would do if his boyfriend suddenly developed an ego and wasn't nearly as easy to work up. Die, maybe. Dramatic, perhaps, but he suspected if he shared the thought, Regulus would appreciate the flare. It's where he learned to dial it up, after all.

"For the record, I think this would have qualified as an emergency situation. Wizengamot panels tend to be incredibly understanding in the underage magic hearings, don't they?" Benjy said cheekily. He didn't add that it was especially true when that wizard was a Black. He didn't want to go there; he resented his brain for skipping that stone when all he wanted was to lean into the humor and into Regulus. "I guess we'll just have to make good use of it and then some. Whenever I want, for instance. Bold claim, but we're ready."

He didn't know why he was nervous after the ask. His words never really stopped, but it felt like they were betraying him now. He never had problems asking for what he wanted, but it tripped him up now as he waited for Regulus to respond. And waited. Only for him to stop trying to undress him, stop touching him, stop moving at all once he sat back.

Fuck.

"Look, we don't have to," Benjy said hastily and propped himself up on his elbows then hands, so he'd be level with Regulus. He sure fucking wanted to, but that wasn't the point right now. Not when he was up against his once again wide-eyed bashful boyfriend. Not seconds before, Benjy would've said he was close to confident. The last thing he wanted was any sort of reluctance. "I'm happy either way."

He reached forward and put his hand on Regulus's chest, slowly dragging it downward and biting his lower lip. It was nice to appreciate him for a oment.

"I said I wanted you to top me," his voice lowered with the words, "not that I'd let you take charge." He hooked his finger in Regulus's belt loop and used it to guide him towards him. He brushed his lips against his, barely pulling away when he added, "if that makes a difference for you." He had a feeling it would. Fuck it, he was dead certain it would.

There were still a couple things he needed to deal with. Opening his half-lidded eyes to meet his boyfriend's was an agonizing task. He just wanted him pinning him back against the cushions again, over Benjy but under his careful instruction. Was that so much to ask?

next chapter || 2008

Regulus wasn’t sure if they’d had an argument or not; he felt a little bit brushed off, but he didn’t think his husband was angry at him in particular. It seemed more accurate to say that he’d just happened to walk in at the wrong time or asked the wrong question when Benjy didn’t want to hear it. Either way, he hadn’t stopped him from leaving.

If he needed space, he could give it. Regulus wasn’t so dependent or scared of losing him any more.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned, of course. Benjy had been through a lot – they both had, but it didn’t do any good to compare – and he was always worried about where his husbands thoughts would leave. Pushing didn’t help though, so when Benjy left, he took himself off to their study and focused on reading something mind-numbingly boring but still something to keep him occupied.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood with a book in his hand, staring tiredly at the pages of a worn down book, when he heard the door open and shut. Regulus glanced up and gave him a warm enough smile, putting the book on the desk and turning to face him. He reached out immediately as Benjy approached, lacing their fingers together when Benjy took his hand.

“Ne dis pas desole, mon amour,” he said simply, raising their hands so he could lightly kiss the back of it. “Whatever you need to sort out, I am here for you.”

Regulus listened carefully, nodding along with what Benjy was saying. His frown grew as he continued to talk, chest aching as he explained how he was feeling about the situation. It didn’t seem like an overreaction at all, and Regulus wanted to tell him as much. But he didn’t interrupt, just kept his hand tight in his.

He never had to think about the disconnect from French. Regulus had been very openly attached to it from the beginning and Benjy had been completely fine and understanding when it came to raising their kids with the same knowledge. It never really occurred to him that Benjy was losing that attachment with Spanish – the idea felt painful to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to emphasise. “I didn’t know. What can I do?”

Regulus shook his head, wrapping his arm around Benjy and pulling him into a hug. “You don’t need to miss me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” he told him, “How can we work at this? We can talk to your mum? Or… or I could probably start learning a bit more Spanish. Mira would like that too, I think. What do you want to do?”

Benjy chuckled lightly. "You tell me not to be sorry, then go ahead and apologize for something you have nothing to do with?" he asked. His amusement was clear in the quirk of his lips and lightness in his eyes.

His spoken French may be tragic, but thirty years with Regulus, then their children—and don't get him started on the betrayal of his best friend—it was safe to say he understood a enough to get by in most situations. It wasn't the problem at hand, but it made it settle harder in his chest.

"You couldn't have known," Benjy said against his chest. "I didn't say anything, and it's not like the past few years haven't given us plenty of moments like this." The ones that were tense, the way he had to walk away because he knew pressure from work threatened his home life. Over the years, he'd gotten better at distinguishing what was real and what was exaggerated by those stressors. Being elected Minister required a rework, but they settled in a good place.

It just so happened this one came from inside him instead of from his job. It came from the place most important to him, not only the massive amount of people who relied on him. It pushed him to a place that had been some time coming.

Benjy took a deep breath, steadying himself in the familiarity that was his husband. He slowly pushed away and smiled as he did so, a quiet reassurance that this distance wasn't to get away from him. He simply wanted to look him in the eyes for what he had to say next.

"That sounds wonderful," he said honestly, "but it's all a bonus." He slid his hand down Regulus's arm until he could tangle their fingers together in a way that once felt foreign, wrong, but was the only balance he recognized now. "And just because you talk to my mum more than I do doesn't mean we don't talk." He gave his hand a fond squeeze.

"I was over there earlier anyway, and..." Benjy took a moment to look at him. Trace the worried lines of his brow, down to his eyes and the set of his mouth. He wanted to soothe it all. He hoped he would.

"I've been Minister of Magic for six years, and soon, it's going to be right back to fighting for another term. The few weekends we have, the dinners I don't get pulled out of for emergencies—the ones that aren't already elaborate affairs to begin with." He laughed and looked at the ceiling for a moment. "I'm so tired of it. That's what I mean when I say I miss you. It's being here." Benjy met his husband's eyes again. "I think I'm done, Reg."

He let out a shaky breath, the words as unpracticed as they were serious, as terrifying as they were monumental. He couldn't bring himself to use the big R, not yet, but he would if Regulus went there. "I want to be here. I'm never going to accomplish everything I set out to do, but for the first time, I'm okay with that. Someone else will—hell, someone on my team will. I don't know exactly what it all means yet, but I'm certain: I don't want to run again.

Benjy was never late on Wednesdays. The closest it came was picking up takeout on his way home when he knew he wouldn't have the time or energy to make dinner that night, and this weekly meal with Regulus was too important to do crabby. He was in no danger of that today. He reached a good stop point on the motor early—one of those beautiful ones where it was better to walk away on a high to force a start on what was next and get swept away.

Another: it was his rare guaranteed night off for the Order. Unless a true emergency came up, he wasn't to be contacted before ten. It was a wonderful feeling, a few hours of bliss. It felt like a choice, to get to spend them mending things with Regulus. Never an obligation or a chore. It even came with a slow enjoyment of cooking, driven by who it was for and the simple satisfaction of the task.

Admittedly, it would only be their fourth dinner, not a date. Counting the argument where he'd put his foot down with his silent roommate, not quite a roommate. Considering how much more it was than Benjy'd gotten in the months proceeding, he was going to take it for all it was worth.

"Hey," Benjy said when the door opened. He settled the lid on the pot and turned to face him. "Come hang with me whenever you're ready? This needs to cook for a bit." It was soup. It could be ready literally whenever—if better when it got to sit. He was willing to gamble Regulus would be none the wiser. "I thought we could try something while we wait." 

Benjy nodded at the newspaper hastily covering the table and the extra grocery bag sitting on top of it. Maybe this was stupid; maybe it was too soon. He wasn't used to second guessing himself like this, but maybe it fit. Regulus had always kept him on his toes.

“Yes, well, if you weren’t so fucking hot and good at this, it wouldn’t be nearly the problem would it?” Benjy quipped. What good problems to have, or whatever, but it wasn’t going to stop him from giving his boyfriend a hard time. Not when he was hellbent on giving the same right back. Sometimes with his words, right now with his lips and his fingers and how slow it all was.

“Dumbest idea I’ve had in a long while,” Benjy agreed. He pulled him back up to his mouth and kissed him. If he wasn’t going to let him have the traction he wanted then he’d have him. His boyfriend who could get him stupidly worked up with just a look, let alone what he was doing now. It was a blessing and a curse, the fact he was getting good at it. The whole thing was going straight to his head and making Benjy’s life all the harder.

And Regulus accused him of being the menace in this relationship.

His nod was a few seconds late, lost in all of this as he was, but it was eager when he finally remembered. He needed Regulus to touch him now, and every bit of clothing between them was a shame. Right down to the sweater he produced his wand from, something that felt weird taking from him. Benjy could delve into that degree of trust later. Right now, he wrapped his hands around the handle and gave an idle wave to test it out.

Apparently, his state was such that he didn’t need much more than that. He was one track minded enough to conjure a truly unholy amount of lube in the corner, and all he could do was laugh. It would be best measured in liters and, well, he supposed they’d just have to make good use of it.

“I want to say fuck it, and I want you,” Benjy said. He set Regulus’s wand to the side and reached back for him. After all, it couldn’t go back in his jumper—Benjy was already working that up. The thought formed as it left his lips, “I want you to top me, love.” He reached for one of his hands. “I want to feel you inside me.” Just in case that wasn’t clear. There was no way of remembering what he’d actually taught Regulus in terms of language. It didn’t matter one bit. All he had was the needy—stupid accurate word that was—hope he would be down to try.

“Am I?” Regulus asked with a small smile, fingers still lightly brushing over his waistband. He hummed as he evaluated his expression, tried not to let the compliment go to his head. Especially as usually praise went to his head and made him a blushing babbling mess. Even now, he felt his cheeks flush but he decidedly did not go weak under him.

Mostly because he wasn’t under him. That was a nice change.

He still followed wherever he was led – not so different then, he noted – and let himself be kissed as he worked open the button on Benjy’s jeans. He opened his eyes just a fraction to watch Benjy take his wand, and didn’t feel the usual stab of protectiveness over it as he would with anyone else casting magic with it, before pulling back completely when he heard a thump and looking over. He couldn’t help but join Benjy in his laughter.

“That’s useful. Well done.” Regulus teased before tugging at the bottom of Benjy’s shirt as a hint for him to take it off. He quickly pulled off his jumper and went back to kissing Benjy’s neck, humming at his words. “You can have me whenever you want.”

And then paused. And pulled back again. He blinked down at him, letting Benjy take his hand and staring blankly. Because oh. Oh, he’d never thought of that – not really. He was thinking about it now.

“Um,” he said, eloquently, biting down on his lip. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it. He enjoyed it, there was no reason why they shouldn’t switch the positions. But he once again found himself clueless. He’d gotten comfortable and used to Benjy being on top. This was new territory again. But, through his nerves and uncertainty, he knew he’d do anything Benjy wanted.

And he wanted him to feel good.

Benjy understood the need to move, but today, he was still. He let Regulus get out that nervous energy, doing little more than chew on his fingernails as he paced and processed, thinking it through in this own right.

They had options. Not many, not good ones, but there was a choice to be had here. Go public and embrace the risk—not ideal but at least they’d control it. Breaking up would be horrible, but it was coming. He didn’t want to have the chat with Regulus about if this, if they were going anywhere. He’d seen it in his parents’ letters about prospective betrothals and his cousin’s influence. He had too much self-respect to remain the secret of a powerful pureblood dynasty.

It would crush him, but he knew he would end it before he let that happen. It was sooner than either of them wanted, but he’d do it.

The third choice was to break up, take some space, and come back together when it felt safe again. There wasn’t a version where he felt confident telling Amycus they broke up and letting it be an outright lie. He was too persistent. He wouldn’t let Benjy have any space until he was convinced which meant staying away from Regulus. He could do that. He could—

“We are not giving him brain damage,” Benjy said without hesitation. “We’re not fucking with his memories or using dark magic.” He got up and crossed the room to Regulus, putting his hand on his shoulder and looking up at him. “This sucks, but that is not on the table, do you hear me?” He was firm in this and quite frankly couldn’t believe Regulus would suggest it. He knew they had different backgrounds, but this wasn’t a fix. This wasn’t life or death, this was a relationship.

“There are other options.” He moved to take his hand but didn’t soften otherwise. He wasn’t negotiating on this. “I will sooner end this than go that route, and if I hear you or Rabastan went ahead with it anyway, I’m out.” He had to know how much of a deal breaker it was for him. This wouldn’t be the resigned but inevitable ending. Any sort of permanent damage to Amycus, no matter how much he hated him, was not happening.

“I’m open to getting creative, but not that. He’s going to stay true to the time he gave us because…” He shook his head. “I can’t explain why, but I can feel it. This is his latest psychological torment, and if he just went ahead and did what he wanted, it wouldn’t feel like this for me. It wouldn’t suck nearly enough.” What came after, he wasn’t sure. If they did break up and Amycus believed him, he imagined he’d come to Benjy with some claim that made his skin crawl, but he’d deal with that if it kept Regulus safe from his parents.

“I think we have to break up,” he said. He tried to keep the words steady, but they caught in his throat. He stared at Regulus with a degree of desperation that drove home how little he wanted that. “We can talk about getting back together—maybe a loose plan for this summer—but if he doesn’t believe it, we’re fucked. It has to be time, and it has to hurt.”

Benjy leaned into him a little, seeking his warmth and comfort. “I hate this. I hate him.” He hated Regulus’s parens and the fact they had to keep it secret at all. He hadn’t minded at first, saw his own benefit, but he was long tired of it. He just wanted to date his boyfriend. “Why does it have to be this hard?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like he’s above using it.” Regulus snapped back in an instant as he shrugged off his hand. “But I’m better. Rabastan is better. We could -”

He paused at Benjy’s words and crossed his arms over his chest. At any other point, he might have defended Dark Magic. It was classed as evil, but it didn’t necessarily have to be as such. And hurting Amycus didn’t seem particularly evil to him. For all the tormenting he’d done towards Benjy, for the risk he served towards him now? No – surely anything like that would be doing the world a favour.

But he didn’t say that. He just gave a huff to let Benjy know that the idea was dropped.

“His latest psychological torment is getting my fucking parents involved, Fenwick. I don’t care if he sticks to a time limit. I don’t – they’ll –“

I think we have to break up.

Benjy did say more after that, but his words blanked out. An explanation – what could happen, what needed to happen. All Regulus thought about what the idea, the ultimatum. Break up to stop his parents from finding out. Stay together, have his parents find out anyway and risk Merlin knew what. It wouldn’t be pretty, it would hurt. But losing Benjy? Would that hurt more?

“I don’t want that.” Regulus said, “I don’t – no. Why?”

He knew the why, even if he didn’t want to accept it. He knew that Dark Magic wouldn’t help either – even it would make it easier for everyone in the long run. He wouldn’t even have to do anything, there were always students eager to practice evil magic. There were people who would help him if he told them, help to cover it up. Rabastan, Antonin, Bellatrix. There were ways around it.

But not ways that he could keep them both. Not unless he wanted to lie to Benjy.

“Oh,” Benjy said. It was closer to a breath or a sigh than a word. “You will.” He never thought that was something he might want until he realized he could hear it from Regulus. Every word from his mouth had an effect on him, turning him on more, and if it was those words? If he was slow and steady enough to make Regulus want and then deny him… he might never get himself together again. He might already have that problem.

Right now, this first time, he listened to him. He moved best he could to thread his fingers through Regulus’s and sighed at the connection. It was safe to say he’d never felt anything like this. He’d never been with someone like this, that he cared about so much it pained him sometimes and that he wanted to give more to even when there was nothing left.

He wanted Regulus to touch him, to pull his hair, to hold him. More than any of that, he wanted him to say his name—his first name—over and over in that same tone, going straight to his head and heart and sending warmth through his body. He heard him, he wanted him, and as Regulus pulled him down to kiss him, Benjy realized he was damn close himself. He forced a little distance, just in his head. Focusing on his movements and making Regulus feel good, picking up the rhythm and experimenting with which movements made him moan and which made him forget words entirely.

Until there it was, and he couldn’t help smile against his lips. “Let go,” he said gently. Not the first time he’d told him to relax, and really, it went along with not thinking. “Let go for me, Regulus.” He pushed harder inside him and tightened his hand to match it. “For me.”

Regulus wasn’t sure which feeling to latch onto. The pressure in his lower abdomen, the way Benjy’s fingers linked with his own to keep him grounded while the rest of him felt completely shattered? He’d heard about the sensation before – unwillingly, from Rabastan usually but sex and pleasure was not exactly a rare discussion for others their age either. But experiencing it was a completely different thing.

Maybe they were all on to something. Not that he could think about that now.

He whispered Benjy’s name again, his first name – rare, but he had no motivation nor any real strength to play into their usual teasing dynamic. Not when Benjy was being so attentive, not when his voice sounded so gentle while his actions were so consuming. He nodded along to his words, even though he wasn’t sure what letting go would actually mean – not beyond the theory of it anyway.

He definitely wasn’t thinking about theory either.

A harder thrust, a tightened grip and Regulus felt himself snap with a choked off moan. A sudden shock, a burst of pleasure that ran through his limbs and he clutched back onto Benjy. He heard heavy panting, mindless babbling – and after a few moments of incoherency he realised the sounds were coming from him. His arms wrapped about Benjy’s neck and he pulled him back into a messy kiss -  half to shut himself up and half to spur the other boy on.

bring him home || july 1981

Benjy was asleep when Regulus was finally allowed to see him which was probably for the best. Because Adelaide could have told him every single graphic detail – and she’d already told him enough to be completely horrified – but the reality of the situation was so much worse than he could have anticipated. When he last saw Benjy, they had been fighting. He’d been vibrant and angry and so, so alive. And now? Still alive, literally. But how he must have hurt.

He took a moment when he first entered just to stop and assess, trying to calm down the hurt of seeing the person he loved most in such a way. It was more empathetic than anything else, he hated the thought of Benjy being in any pain, hated to think about what had been done to him and the fear he must have experienced. Nothing that had happened made him love him any less; but he felt furious. Furious that this had been allowed to happen, that someone was this insane to cause so much misery.

Regulus tried to process everything logically in the time that Benjy was still asleep; he didn’t want to stare and make him uncomfortable while he was awake but he had to know what to look out for, what not to touch – if he was allowed to touch at all – and to make sure nothing took him by surprise. He wanted to be a source of comfort, he didn’t want to allow any other emotions by having to figure things out later. It ached to look at him like that, to memorise and to catalogue it in a way to make sure he wouldn’t cause any further damage.

He didn’t realise he was crying until his breath caught in his throat. Regulus brushed away his tears quickly and made his way over to the bed, sitting close and watching the rise and fall of Benjy’s chest. Because despite how awful it was, Benjy was here. He was alive and they were together again. He’d take that relief while he could.

Regulus wasn’t sure how long he sat in silence watching his boyfriend rest but his heart dropped to his stomach when Benjy opened his eyes. But he’d been trained so well growing up and Benjy needed him; he could be strong for him. So he didn’t let his anguish show when Benjy woke, smiling gently at him instead. He wasn’t sure what his partner would need, but he’d give him whatever it was.

And he was so thankful when Benjy fell into him. This was so much easier than false platitudes.

Regulus moved onto the bed slowly, trying not to jostle Benjy too much as he wrapped his arms around him. He kept his grip loose and fingers gentle, quietly shushing him as he sobbed. He kissed the top of his head and murmured a mixture of soft reassurances against him. I have you, you’re safe, I love you.

He could feel Benjy’s mouth moving against his chest, forming words that he could not make out and he lifted one of his hands to lightly brush against Benjy’s cheek, “Hey, can you look at me?” He asked, but his question was a very open one. If he didn’t want too, Regulus was more content just to hold him too. “I won’t let go, I promise.”

Safe in Regulus's arms was the first time Benjy was hit with his muteness. It was inconvenient when he was begging Andromeda, Adelaide, Ted, to get Regulus and get him here sooner, but he didn't have much to say other than that. Now, he ached under everything unsaid. He wanted the option to be overwhelmed into silence rather than sitting in it.

Another choked sob escaped him, the only desperate outlet he had. Slowly, he was feeling better. It was nowhere near good, but the panic and fear he'd been living with for nearly two weeks began to subside. With Regulus there, it became real—he was out, he was with him. His heart was beating where Benjy pressed his forehead against it, and he steadied himself against the rhythm he'd never needed. Not until it proved something he'd been so terrified about.

Regulus was alive and well. Adelaide. It stood to reason Emmeline and his hadn't suffered at the hand of his captors. Not directly, at least. Not in the same ways he had, and he'd take it over and over again to ensure that.

His awareness returned to him slowly. It started from Regulus's touch—his arms around him, his lips, the way his fingers touched him carefully. Everything hurt, but he avoided the worst of it too deftly. It nearly broke Benjy all over again, but he followed the sound of his voice. When it was a rhythm of gentle of words that flowed into soft promises that he could tell apart. He timed his breath to them, letting it slow into a better place.

He wasn't sure if it was coincidence or if Regulus noticed, but the timing was perfect for a bit more. A true ask through the gentle words that went in and out of focus.

Benjy didn't look at him right away. He took one more breath there... then another for good measure. One to steady himself, one to feel Regulus. He might not be going anywhere, but the last time Benjy saw him, he'd been feeling invincible. Like they'd have a forever of this no matter his actions.

Safe to say, he'd had way too much time to think recently.

He moved slowly until he knew he was just far enough that he really could look at Regulus, but he didn't yet. He wasn't sure when he moved to the small bed, but he was glad he did. It let him follow the lines of his torso and arms up to his neck. He was afraid of losing of his balance; he didn't love that the only thing grounding him was his partner. It felt unsteady, but it didn't stop him.

His left hand met the path his eyes were tracing at Regulus's lips. Benjy frowned at the way it framed his face, thumb pressed against the corner of his lips. Finally, he met the eyes he never thought he'd see again. It lacked his usual steadiness—he could feel tears forming and slowly spilling over. To say they were more controlled this time would be ridiculous. Maybe he wasn't sobbing, but he couldn't stop them. He couldn't even wipe them away.

"You're here," he mouthed, much more deliberately this time. He couldn't be sure Regulus would understand him—there wasn't anything to understand. But he assumed that was what he wanted, to get a read on what he was feeling, what was at the front of his mind.