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honestly my fave type of Jegulus is when reg is saying unspeakable things to James in French and James has no idea what he’s saying but is turned on anyways
bamboozled - jegulus and drarry - server microprompt challenge - word count: 338
Draco had been raised to be proper. To wow a crowd, to navigate social situations with all the grace and politeness of a proper gentleman. To handle things smoothly.
Which is why, now, he was internally screaming at himself.
Because he’d never felt so bloody bamboozled.
Because...weren't old people supposed to be ugly?
Pinching his own leg as he missed his mouth with his fork for the ninth time, he cursed under his breath, earning a confused look from Harry, who was sitting next to him, immersed in conversation with James and Regulus.
Miserably, Draco just shook his head slightly. No. He could get himself together.
It was just…
He looked up again, trying to be subtle.
He now understood why people talked about it all the time. Harry Potter looked so like his father. Gods, they were both unfairly handsome. Their smiles were bright, their eyes warm and welcoming. And James…
Well, age had been very kind to James Potter.
He was graying, sure. But the slight wrinkles and lighter hair only made him more handsome. More rugged. More…
Draco gulped. Certainly, he should not be thinking this way about his potential father-in-law, and he wasn’t, not really. He was very, very happy with what he had. But his very unhelpful brain reminded him: If Harry and James look so much alike…Harry will look like this when he gets older. Harry will look exactly like this when he gets older.
He squirmed in his seat. Fuck.
“...going to grab the next course!” James Potter announced, throwing Draco a smile and sweeping into the kitchen.
“I’ll help,” Harry offered, standing and squeezing Draco’s knee.
But as soon as both men disappeared into the other room, Regulus turned to him with a look like an x-ray. Draco’s stomach churned. Was he in trouble? Did Regulus know? Fuck, he’d heard things about Regulus Black from his mother and he didn’t want to get on his bad side. Shit, shit, sh–
“Just wait until you see Fleamont Potter,” Regulus murmured, his face breaking into a smirk.
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Almost desperately, Regulus pulled at his t-shirt, yanking it out and away from his chest, gnawing at his cheek as he did so, but not pulling it up.
It was hot. The summer heat was almost permeating through his skull at this point, melting his brain and causing it to leak through his ears. He badly wanted to take the shirt off altogether, to fling it across the room as far from him as possible, if only to possibly feel the slight breeze from the window on his pale skin, but he couldn’t.
Because he was stupidly soft and couldn’t stand to be in a different room than his boyfriend for even a few hours. His boyfriend, who he’d never let see him without an unbound or untapped chest.
“Hey,” James murmured softly from behind him, entering the room from the hall. He looked smitten as he glanced at Regulus, his face breaking into a smile that made his hazel eyes glitter.
Plus, he was shirtless, his defined muscles clear even in the low light.
The whole thing did pleasant, unmentionable things to Regulus’s stomach, and he had to try very hard not to groan at the thought of this ridiculously gorgeous boy being his. “Hi,” he muttered back, wiping at a bead of sweat that betrayed him by running down his temple.
Instantly, James frowned. “You’re hot,” he pointed out unnecessarily.
Regulus tried to joke his way out of it. “Flirting gets you nowhere,” he murmured, smirking unconvincingly at the taller boy.
“You know what I mean, baby. Why don’t we sleep in separate beds tonight? I want you to be comfor–” the taller boy started, suggesting the same thing that he’d brought up the past few evenings.
“No,” Regulus interrupted, frowning. “What, do you not want me here?” Again, he meant to only deflect, but the fear in his voice was real.
“Love, I want you here more than anything,” James said gently, moving forward to press a kiss on his damp hair. “But you clearly don’t want to take your shirt off, and you…” but he drifted off, eyes looking around the room obviously in search of something, before he took two steps to his desk and picked up his Gryffindor tie.
“Kinky,” Regulus whispered, grinning suggestively, curious as to why James actually wanted the tie.
But the older boy just chuckled before lying down and unceremoniously using the fabric to blindfold himself. “There,” he said in a satisfied voice after he was done. “Now will you take off your shirt so you don’t die of heat stroke?”
Only slightly astonished at the lengths his boyfriend would go to make him feel comfortable, Regulus tilted his head to the side before holding up a finger. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Immediately, James grinned. “One. The middle one, to be precise. But I just know that because I know you, not because I can see anything.” He clumsily patted the empty spot beside him. “C’mon, love. Come to bed.”
And after a long, nervous moment, Regulus removed his shirt and curled up against the other boy, sighing contentedly, finally feeling cool.
green - july 3 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 384
“Oi, Potter!”
James, already fuming, turned to see seven green-clad Slytherins heading his way, grins on their faces. “What, Black?” he hissed, face curling into a grimace of disdain.
“Nice throw! Were you trying to help us win, or are you really that bad?” Regulus taunted, smirking. A few of the Slytherins behind him jeered.
But James, rather than succumb to the feelings of anger and humiliation pumping through his body, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just wanted you lot to feel what it’s like to win one. Don’t get used to it, though. I won’t be so easy on you in the Spring. No matter how pretty you are, Reg.”
And he walked away, leaving Regulus staring after him, a furious, dumbfounded look on his face.
It was an hour later when he found himself slammed into the locker room wall. He’d thought he was alone.
“Pretty?” Regulus hissed at him, leaning forward to even hope to be at James’s height.
Something hot sparked in the Gryffindor’s stomach. “Yeah,” he smirked, a bit breathless. “Why? You think I’m pretty, too? Certainly seems that way, the way you have me pinned here.”
Regulus scoffed, backing upright away. He looked almost disbelieving. Like he thought James was lying about the compliment. “Idiot,” he mumbled. “Stop saying stupid–”
But James impulsively grabbed his arm, pulling him close again, despite his better judgement. “Not stupid. True,” he whispered, the tense air shivering around them.
Regulus was quiet, eyes narrowed as he bit at what James now realized with a jolt were very kissable lips. “You’re being an arse.”
“M’being honest.” He weighed his options for a moment, then decided he’d already risked being cursed, so he might as well keep going. In for a knut, or whatever. “Want me to prove it?”
The Slytherin sputtered. “How the fuck would you—?”
James kissed him quickly, soundly, completely. Before he could lose the nerve. Heart thundering in his ears, he gripped Regulus’s waist and allowed himself five whole seconds of life-altering bliss, electric shocks ricocheted through his body.
He drowned in it. It was better than any winning Quidditch shot.
Then he pulled back, panting.
“Good game, Black,” he grinned dumbly, sprinting away breathlessly before he could do something even more stupid, like ask the younger boy on a date.
Barty’s voice cut through the quiet of the evening like a knife through softened butter—casual, abrupt, and entirely out of place as they lay tangled together on Evan's bed, limbs thrown lazily across each other, a half-empty bag of crisps between them and a muted documentary playing on the telly.
Evan blinked once. Then again. Slowly turned his head.
"You know I’m asexual."
Barty grinned, as if he was waiting for that. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have a favourite. Come on. Purely theoretical. Aesthetics, physics, moral superiority, whatever.”
Evan stared at him flatly. “You want to talk about moral superiority while half-naked and chewing on expired crisps?”
Barty didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely.”
There was a long silence.
Evan sighed, running a hand down his face, trying to decide whether to engage or throw a pillow at him. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” Barty shrugged. “I just like watching your face when I say things that throw you off. You get all... twitchy and judgy. It’s hot.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“I know,” Barty said cheerfully, popping a crisp into his mouth and offering Evan the bag like nothing had happened. “But seriously. Favourite?”
Evan took a crisp, chewed it slowly, and then said, “I think you’re confusing my disinterest in sex with a lack of imagination.”
“Oh?” Barty sat up a little, grinning wider. “So you have thought about it.”
Evan gave him a look. “Everyone’s thought about it. Even if just in passing. Doesn’t mean I want to do it.”
Barty quieted a bit at that, expression flickering into something softer. “I know.”
He did. And Evan appreciated that—appreciated him, even on days when Barty’s energy was like a buzzsaw to Evan’s calm. He always knew where the line was. He might skip rope on it, dance a little, test it, but he never crossed it without permission.
Evan leaned his head against Barty’s shoulder. “I like the idea of someone curled into someone’s lap. Close. Secure. Doesn’t even have to be sex. Just… that kind of positioning. Warm.”
Barty made a noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh. “That’s kind of sweet.”
“Shut up.”
“No, I like it.” He bumped his shoulder lightly against Evan’s. “That makes sense. You always look happiest when I’m clinging to you like a barnacle.”
“You’re always clinging to me like a barnacle.”
“Because I like you.”
“Disgusting.”
Barty snorted. “What about spooning? That’s a classic.”
Evan rolled his eyes. “This isn’t build-a-kink-workshop, Barty. I’m not listing a menu.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll drop it.”
And he did. Just like that. He let the topic go, leaning back against the pillows and sliding a hand into Evan’s hair without asking, just the way Evan liked it—gentle, grounding. Comfort instead of chaos.
After a moment, Evan said, quietly, “Why’d you ask?”
Barty shrugged again, slower this time. “I dunno. I guess sometimes I worry I’m too much. Like… I’m always thinking about this stuff. Wanting it. You’re not. And I don’t want you to think I don’t love you exactly how you are.”
Evan blinked. He hadn’t expected that answer.
He turned to look at Barty, really look at him. The mess of his hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he was trying to act nonchalant but had that tightness around his mouth that always gave him away when he was feeling vulnerable.
“I don’t think that,” Evan said, firm. “I’ve never thought that.”
Barty looked at him.
“I know you want different things sometimes,” Evan continued. “And that’s okay. We talk about it. We figure it out. You never make me feel broken for being me.”
Barty reached up and touched Evan’s face, just briefly. “You’re not broken.”
“I know,” Evan said. And he did. He really, really did.
They were quiet for a while again, the documentary now long forgotten.
Finally, Barty whispered, “Okay, but if I had to choose, it’d be against a wall. You know, lifted—legs around, rough makeout, some biting—”
mastermind - june 24 - background jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 389
“Alright, boys. Who did it?” Euphemia Potter asked, crossing her arms and looking fiercely at Sirius, James, and Remus, who all stood in front of her with their heads hung. If she hadn’t been so annoyed, it would have been hilarious to look at–three boys, all dramatically taller than her, looking completely contrite and a little bit scared as they listened to her yell.
“It…it was a group effort, Mum,” James piped up desperately, always the first one to break.
“Yeah, we all kind of…played a part…” Sirius agreed, Remus nodding along with him, though both of them looked just as confused and nervous as James did.
“I see,” Effie said, tone short even as she still forced herself not to laugh. “So there was no clear mastermind, here? Nobody wants to fess up?”
All three boys were silent, eyes glued to the floor.
“And what about the fact that you needed a potion to make this happen, then?” she pressed, gesturing to her bubblegum-pink hair, which now reached all the way down to the floor. “I know all of you boys are smart, but last I checked, none of you are top in your class in potions. Who sent out for it? Are you sure you didn’t do it, James?”
James shook his head, but said nothing. “No, I—” but he cut himself off, looking between his friends, eyes narrowed, like he was trying to figure out who had sent out for the potion.
It was at this point Effie realized they were all covering for each other. And there was a chance none of them had done it.
“Then who…” she began to mutter, flummoxed. But she stopped short at the sound of a laugh.
The chuckle at this didn’t seem to come from any of the boys in front of her. It took her a moment to place the source, but as soon as she did, her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Regulus?” she gasped. “Monty?”
The two boys were standing in the doorway in silent hysterics, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes. “Sorry, darling, it was just too funny!” Monty laughed, moving to press a kiss to his wife’s head.
But as shocked as Effie was, James looked thrilled. “Reg, you did this?” he asked, eyes dancing with glee. “Baby, I’m so proud!”
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Remus, James and Sirius all sitting around a rat in the common room feeding it sweets thinking it’s Peter. Then Peter comes to sit down with them and is like ‘what the fuck are you doing with this random rat’ and they’re all like ‘oh we thought it was you’
marauders modern highschool au but the whole thing is just remus desperately trying to avoid the basketball coach because he knows hes tall but damn it he doesnt wanna join the team!!
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james had an old camcorder. every time something happened he would whip it out and film a video for the future.
"hey kids, it's your dad, and the date is april 14th 1976. your uncle padfoot still hasn't confessed, but i think he will later today!"
slowly this became "hey kids, it's your dad. it's 3am because your uncles won't stop BEING LOUD. one day you'll understand; we can discuss the birds and the bees together."
"hi honey, it's your dad james here. i don't know if i'll ever get to meet you. i haven't been feeling myself lately. it's not fair how your uncle remus has it all figured out."
until one day it was "hey kids, i think i met your dad. say hi regulus!"
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