candle wax melting in my veins

prompts

"are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"; word count: around 530

Barty was staring at him. Regulus could feel it, even though he refused to meet his gaze.

He had his face resting on one hand, the fingers of the other tapping the surface of the table. He had been sitting there for at least an hour, and he had absolutely no intention of moving, as he waited for Regulus to finish his work.

An hour. It had been an hour since Regulus had sat down at Barty's kitchen table, and for an hour he had done nothing but type on his keybord. He hadn't said a word, annoyed by the mere presence of his classmate and arch-rival in front of him. They had been forced to meet for a research—Barty himself had suggested his place—but he hadn't started working yet. Instead, he kept looking at Regulus and chatter, distracting him and breaking the peaceful silence.

“You should do some ASMR” he said, referring to the creamy (as he called it) sound of Regulus’s keyboard.

He continued to ignore him.

“You’re good with your fingers. Do you play the piano?”

More silence.

Barty snorted, amused, and planted his elbows on the table to lean forward.

“Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?”

The sound of his voice, suddenly so close, and the suffocating smell of smoke made Regulus look up. He hoped he looked annoyed.

Barty, however, grinned mischievously.

He was basically naked—he was wearing a T-shirt, sweatpants, and he was barefoot, so basically naked—and by peeking inside his collar, Regulus could see the tattoos on his chest and the shadows of his abs.

Once, when Barty had yawned in class and the hem of his T-shirt had risen, Regulus had seen a name tattooed just below his belly button. It was a girl's name. Was Barty the kind of guy who got tattoos of his exes' names? Was he really that crazy?

Just thinking about it made Regulus furious, and reminded him why he couldn't stand Barty. He was uncaring, sloppy, rude, ill-mannered, stubborn, stupid, reckless…

He laughed, waving a hand in Regulus's face. “Can I get you a drink?”

He flushed, mortified and offended, and didn’t even shake his head before returning his attention to his open document. Barty stared at him in disbelief before shrugging.

“You sure?”

He was reckless, and he had a lazy smile and bored eyes, and muscles, and tattoos, and he was really, really insufferable.

“Yes” Regulus blurted out.

He immediately regretted it.

Barty couldn’t contain the satisfaction on his face at all. “Oh, so you can talk. Do you like Sprite? Or do you prefer something else?”

Regulus slammed his fingers on the keyboard, annoyed, and the document filled up with letters and numbers.

“Well, Sprite then.”

When Barty walked over to the fridge and grabbed the bottle, Regulus angrily slammed the computer shut.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your part of the work?” he hissed. He’d already spoken once, so he might as well keep doing it. Making snide comments was always more fun than thinking them anyway.

Barty closed the refrigerator door by hitting it with his hip. He set the bottle down and winked at Regulus, then reached over and picked up some papers that were casually sitting on a shelf.

He placed them gently on Regulus’s closed computer. His research, finished.

“I already emailed you the file” he said, setting two glasses on the counter. He glanced over his shoulder at Regulus, disinterested, and opened the bottle. “Ice?”