James gets up and strips his shirt on the way, balling it up in his hands to dab at the sweat that’s been collecting on his face and neck and pads to the front door of his small apartment.

He doesn’t bother peeking through the spy hole but instead swings the door open, ready to help a stranger to their right destination. Most likely someone else’s flat in the building. James is positive that he has the last names from the doorbell signs down enough to give helpful instructions.

What he doesn’t expect to see there, is a familiar face.

Or, rather, a much too familiar, instantly heart beat skipping, agonizingly pretty face.

Regulus is standing there, arms ramrod straight at his sides and face flushed. “What exactly did you mean when you texted— and you’re naked.”

James looks down on himself but sure enough he’s still in shorts, socks and slippers.

He gazes back up at Regulus who sorta looks more flushed than just a second ago, but perhaps it’s just a trick of the light.

“Why are you naked?” Regulus presses out. “And sweaty?” His tone makes it sound more like a statement.

Shit, does James stink? When was the last time he used deodorant? His shower after lunch? Yes, he did. That should do.

James shakes his head, “I’m not naked.” He gestures down at himself.

Regulus makes a noise like he’s frustrated and his eyes roll back. James is not thinking any indecent thoughts.

“Why are you like—” Regulus gestures at James as well. There’s a lot of gesturing going on comparatively to how short this conversation has been going on. “—like this?”

James refuses the instinct to let out a dumb Uhh and think of a plausible answer instead. He shrugs feebly, “Been doing sit-ups.”

“Sit-ups?” Regulus parrots in vague disbelief. His arms cross in front of his chest, frown pulling at his expression. James wants to bite his cheek.

“Yes,” he confirms. He rubs his shirt along his neck once more. “Um,” James mentally slaps himself, “did you want- I mean, was there something you came here for?”

“Is there something I—” Regulus makes another one of his noises and then simply stalks past James and into his apartment.

“Yeah, sure, come in,” James calls after him, closing the door. He turns just in time to see Regulus disappear into his bedroom. “I- Reg, what? Wait a god damn second.” He quickly heads after the younger man just to find him searching around his room like—and there’s really no better way of phrasing it—a drug sniffer dog.

Before James can even get a word out Regulus toes off his sneakers and gets on his bed, working around in the sheets. It takes no longer than a few seconds before he resurfaces with a vindictive A-ha, proceeding to hold up James’ phone.

James feels his cheeks heat with familiar shame.

And he feels them heat even more when Regulus clambers off his bed, the curls of his hair all tousled, and steps up to where James is rooted to the spot. He holds the phone screen up at James in an almost accusatory way. Yet, again, before James can even think to explain, Regulus snatches it away again and swipes his thumb over the screen.

James’ jaw almost unhinges, “Did you just do that to unlock my phone with face ID?”

“Yup,” Regulus says, tapping away on James’ phone.

“I-” and that manages to snap James out of it and catapult him into a more intelligent homo sapiens headspace, “Give me that!”

“No,” Regulus counters immediately, stemming a surprisingly deft palm against James’ sternum. He makes another swipe for his phone but Regulus keeps angling himself away with all the grace of a younger sibling that’s taken something that doesn’t belong to them.

James whines and tries wrapping an arm around Regulus to pull him closer, to get closer to the phone that is held one Regulus arms length away. Regulus makes a noise, a different one, but inexorably no less sexy. “Stop that,” he chides.

“You stop it,” James volleys back, desperately trying to keep his focus on the fact that Regulus is currently still going through his phone for whatever reason and off how good the other feels pressed right up against James body. “What are you even trying to—”

With a sudden start Regulus’ posture changes and he twists around to shove the phone back into James’ face. If James wasn’t so focused on not focusing on Regulus’ hand on his biceps and the way his belt is pressing just right against James’ crotch, he might not have taken as long as he does to realize what Regulus is trying to show him.

“So?” Regulus demands, wiggling the phone in front of James’ nose, just as his eyes adjust to the proximity of the object.

The screen projects their chat.

It presents James with the two most idiotic text messages he’s ever hit send on. But it also tells him Regulus’ reaction he so clearly unsuccessfully tried to avoid.

16:42 you’re more stupid than i thought if you really believe that inexperience consequences bad sex, potter

16:43 did you not also hear pandora and dorcas deflower each other in the room over at my birthday party in year 11?

16:46 wait are you drunk??

16:46 it’s literally not even five pm

16:51 if you’re not answering me in the next 10 minutes the offer is off the table..

17:00 james i’m fucking serious

17:00 also, don’t you dare answer if you’re gonna make that joke

17:01 i will actually choke you to death

17:05 hello??

17:08 i’m coming over

And, well.

James doesn’t really know what to say. Or think. Or do.

Anything really.

Regulus is glaring up at him next to his phone screen and it’s searing. He’s warm too, sturdy and a comfortable weight in James’ arm.

Oh, he really doesn’t want to let go. That he knows. That James is more than one hundred percent sure of.

And he’s here. Regulus threatened to pull back on his agreement to James’ insane question but instead of actually doing so he came here.

James asked Regulus if he would like to have sex with him, told him that he’s in truth a virgin and not at all confident in doing well in bed, and Regulus had put on his fucking shoes and walked his snotty, sexy, little ass the 7 minutes it takes to get from his shared flat to James’.

It’s a little too good to be true.

A fresh apple found on the forest ground of rotting foliage and James is waiting for net to snap up beneath his feet and hold him in elevated imprisonment.

James has to ask. “Why’d you come over, Reg?”

Regulus clicks his tongue. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t want to guess,” James insists as Regulus crosses his arms again, averting his eyes, “I want to know.”

A moment ticks by, and then another, in which Regulus stubbornly stares at a spot over James’ shoulder, not saying a word.

James reaches around further and pinches Regulus’ waist to make him jump. He does, predictably, and then bares his teeth in an almost growl when he returns to face James. “Because…” Regulus sighs out of his nose with force.

James holds him tighter at the waist again, in warning. Coincidentally pulling Regulus more onto him, making them both gasp softly.

Regulus’ lips part and James eyes bulge. “Sorry,” he mutters, voice husky.

Regulus groans, almost distressed, and James is about to apologize properly when Regulus stops him short. “Because,” he erupts, “you’re like stupidly hot, James, and it’s fucking pissing me off. It’s been pissing me off for a good five years, at this point, and I feel like if I don’t do anything about it, I will go mental.”

Oh.

James needs a moment to process that. Several actually.

The muscles in his arm start straining from how tight he’s holding Regulus against him but James doesn’t care. All he can think about is Regulus at 19, shy and small, but spitting venom at any attempt of getting closer. A time where Regulus’ hair was short and choppy after he cut it all off himself, where his skin was still pale and untouched by ink, where he still had a lot to unlearn but was visibly thankful for the environment he was brought into through his brother. That little baby snake, teeth sharp and going for an attack every few seconds, wasn’t repulsed by James at all. He was angry with himself for not being repulsed by James.

Oh, James should have known, he should have noticed. Or at least it shouldn’t have taken him this long to fucking find out. Because it only took about two years before Regulus started to become malleable in James’ proximity, in his palm. Jabs easier, quips more playful, and an uptick of the corner of his mouth. James had nearly run laps from the happiness these small victories brought the first few times they happened.

But it was supposed to happen like this. If James has learned one thing from building his relationship with Regulus, it’s patience, no matter how badly he’d wanted to tear out his own hair at times. It would have been no use rushing into it and scaring him off.

Because now Regulus is the one who came, who made the step. Who is here, in James’ arms, a desperate, pretty little thing. Worn thin and helpless, eager and frustrated and—

“You’re into me?” James breathes, something inside his chest fluttering.

“I just said that,” Regulus scowls again and James almost explodes.

His still unsure how to do this but James wants, fuck, he wants so badly. Wants to eat Regulus, wants to fuse with him, wants Regulus to spit in his open mouth and make him swallow.

James has made out with people before, at parties. He’s been told he’s a good kisser.

“Reg.”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Regulus does a double take at him. His mouth drops open and his eyes go all wide and soft, gaze so dewy it nearly cuts James off at the knees.

“You—” Regulus interrupts himself in favor of pulling James down by his nape. Fingers wind themselves into the back of James’ hair at the same time as Regulus licks his tongue between James’ lips and it’s heaven.

Immediately James’ body feels oversensitive, blood rushing and prickling inside his veins like sour candy, light headed, gut clenching, lips tingling where he can feel Regulus’ press against his. It’s wet and open mouth, nip of teeth, but it’s soft, gentle despite that.

James lets out a happy sigh and it turns into a moan when Regulus tugs at his roots. Turns into panting and a whimper when Regulus breaks off but keeps his hips pressed into James’.

Oh, that’s dangerous. That’s so, so d—

“James, did you just get hard this quickly?”

Again, it sounds less like a question and more like a statement. Which, technically it has every right to be, since Regulus is completely correct.

It doesn’t feel quite on par with James’ ego to outright and immediately admit it though so he intelligently keeps gaping at Regulus momentarily.

But Regulus isn’t having it. He fastens his grip in James’ messy hair, his other hand coming up to loosely rest against the base of James’ throat and then Regulus leans in to lick at the seam of his lips. Touching just the tip of his tongue to James’ sensitive kissed, open mouth like he’s coaxing the answer out of him like that.

Insane behavior. James needs to lock Regulus away from everybody else in the world. He can’t have him going around being this hot just for anyone to see.

It works though, in a way, at least. James doesn’t manage to form a coherent verbal answer but his hips do the job for him when he ruts them forth and into Regulus in response.

The younger bites his lower lip at that, pupils blown and smoldering, “That’s a yes, I suspect.” And then Regulus says something that is the exact moment of the beginning of James Fleamont Potter’s ruination as the world knows and adores him. He knocks James head around slightly, carefully and coos at him gently. And then Regulus says, “Already stupid in the head, huh?”

James’ body nearly takes a screenshot. His gut tightens immediately, all the blood leaving his head and rushing straight to his cock, so fast and hard it’s dizzying. The tips of his fingers tingle with blood loss and a noise rips from his throat that’s as animalistic as it is pathetic.

From then it’s all a bit hazy.

There’s a lot of begging involved on James’ part and a lot of leading on Regulus’. They end up on the bed, kissing each other’s mouths raw, James on his back and Regulus in his lap, grinding down on him like he’s trying to grade James’ braincells away like a parmesan. It’s working. To the point where he’s so lost in the feel and weight of Regulus, in all the way he makes him feel good like the fucking angel that he is, that James doesn’t even notice he’s about to cum before it’s too late.

It barrels through him like a fucking freight train, spilling into his shorts, Regulus pressing down on and milking it out of him.

One would imagine this is already intense enough but then Regulus mumbles something into his ear and James vaguely remembers blushing again and nodding. There’s the sound of a zipper and some adjusting and then Regulus lets out a shaky moan that has James snapping back into the present so fast he’s afraid he gave himself whiplash.

Because Regulus is on top of him, hand down his jeans and eyebrows scrunched like he’s feeling just so fucking good and James has to kiss him again. They do that until Regulus shudders through his own orgasm and James feels like his bones turned into al dente pasta.

And lastly, because Regulus is still an evil, little shit, he gives James one more dirty, wet kiss before extracting himself entirely.

He pats James on the knee as he rebuttons his trousers, “Now, if you wanna continue this, you know where to find me. And you better text me back before I get home or this’ll be the last time you had an orgasm through your dick.”

“Baby, I’m home,” Regulus shouts after entering the front door, kicking it closed behind him with his foot as he balances the huge ice cream cake precariously on both his hands.

They’ve invited the whole family as per usual, what with their first year with Harry out of the house coming back from uni for his dad’s special day, Sirius and Remus driving down and picking up Effie and Monty on the way. All their friends will come later this week for brunch.

Today it’s just the few of them though and Regulus finds himself with a spring in his step at the thought of all of them together today.

James has taken the day off and Regulus was able to weasel his way into only half a shift today which he nearly missed entirely after the way James had sat down in his lap first thing in the morning and ridden him until he was shaking, cursing and babbling incoherently, all the while his husband was seated on his throne, smiling brightly, happiest man in the world, practically taking the matter of his birthday gift into his own hands.

“Hi love!” comes from somewhere on the higher level of the house.

Regulus brings the cake into the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket and quickly dispensing the celebratory sweet in the freezer before James sees it.

Not a moment after Regulus closes the drawer to grab a bowl of blueberries from the fridge James comes into the kitchen, huffing and cheeks flushed, a presumably heavy box of just…stuff in his arms that he must have gotten from the attic.

“James,” Regulus starts, blinking, “You were supposed to take the day off.”

His husband smacks a content kiss onto his cheek, grinning brightly. His glasses are smudged and sitting crookedly over his nose and Regulus is pretty sure he spotted a bit of spiderwebs in the mess of his hair.

“Ehh,” James makes dismissively, “I still felt restless after I hit the gym this morning once you left.”

He places the box down with a heavy thunk, petting its side like a horse—he’s such a dad, “And we’ve been wanting to get started on these babies after spring cleaning anyway, remember?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, fondness betraying him when the corners of his mouth tug upwards, “Mm, that might be true. Still it’s your birthd—”

Regulus halts.

“Love?” James looks at him inquiringly, hands propped on his hips.

On his very much naked hips. A palm length sliver of skin exposed between the indecently thin and short gym shorts and the—

“James, baby, what are you wearing?”

Oh, Regulus’ mouth is so, so dry.

“Huh?” James looks down at himself, shuffling in place before his head snaps back up to Regulus, “Oh! Yeah I found one of my old shirts from uni.” His husband snickers, giving a little twirl and shaking his hips from side to side like he isn’t currently taking five years off Regulus’ life expectancy.

“You–” Regulus stops again, eyes glued to the small swell of his stomach over the band of the white shorts, the dark hair splattered all over and coiling at the center, carving a path up and downwards. It’s downright indecent. His arms fill out the shirt just how they used to back in uni but with the difference that it’s more fat than muscle now—though Regulus knows well enough from personal experience how strong his husband still is. His pecs are visibly straining the material, the washed out, maroon letters spelling HOGWARTS cracking from the stretch.

Even more so when James leans back on his palms against the dining table, draping himself all prettily against the edge and smiling coyly, blinking doe brown eyes from under long lashes at Regulus as if he didn’t already have him warpped around his finger hook, line and sinker.

“Baby,” Regulus rasps and he barely recognises his own voice.

“Yeah, Reg?” James purrs, tilting his head and exposing the expanse of his neck.

“How long until Harry arrives?”

“An hour or two, depending on traffic,” James responds, voice all husky. Regulus is going to wreck him. Reduce him to a stuttering, squirting mess in the matter of half an hour, take his fucking word for it.

“Good enough,” Regulus grits out and then he crosses the distance in two long strides, already yanking at his tie.

They meet in a mess of parted lips, clicking teeth and tongues nudging, eager as ever, trying to lick into each other’s mouths and taste. Greedy for it, happily swallowing moans and tugging their bodies close. They slot into each other easily, practiced after all these years, decades and Regulus reckons that’s how they somewhat safely find their way onto the couch.

Regulus’ back hits the cushions with a soft oompf, barely time to gasp another breath and reach for his husband before James is straddling his lap, clasping Regulus’ stubbly jaw in warm, calloused palms and pulling him right back into their kiss. They don’t stay there for long with the way James is restlessly shifting on top of him, grinding his crotch right against the bulge in Regulus’ slacks, making them both groan.

At some point Regulus abandons James’ mouth in favor of kissing over the stubble of his cheek and jaw and latch onto his throat while simultaneously trying to get his stupid shirt buttons open. When the takes too long however James seems to grow impatient, batting his hands away and fumbling with them himself while they pant and grunt into each other’s mouths.

Regulus is nipping at James’ lower lip, already swollen and an obscene kiss bitten red and his husband makes a sound. Downright needy and he’s sitting there on top of Regulus, flushed and with that dazed look in his eyes, moaning like a little slut, so Regulus can’t quite help himself when he pulls one hand around and smacks James’ firmly on the bum.

It elicits a gasp, high pitched and followed by a long, drawn out moan and James sinking deeper into his lap, recapturing his mouth and desperately rutting down against where Regulus is hard and already throbbing. It’s a medical miracle, truly, that no matter how many times they’ve had sex, Regulus’ erection is always at its best form for James.

“Mnh,” James makes, their lips parting with a wet smacking noise, “Need you, baby.”

Regulus grunts, fingers digging harshly into the meat of James’ arse, “Slut.”

Just like expected, James whimpers, and so prettily at that. Eyebrows scrunching pitifully and he grinds once more, helplessly, “Please, please.” 

“But of course, sweety,” Regulus relents easily, licking a hot stripe up his neck, along his jawbone and then right across his slack mouth, “Anything for the birthday boy.”

James moans in response, nodding his head frantically.

Regulus nods his head towards the end of the couch where the pillows are piled, “Scoot up.”

His husband does so dutifully and it doesn’t take longer than a second for Regulus to make James lift his hips and rip the sheer piece of nylon off and throw it over his shoulder, not quite surprised yet still horribly taken off guard by the lack of boxer briefs underneath.

Regulus is left with nothing to do but stare at the mess of wet, thick curls and pink fold glistening with James’ slick, spit pooling under his tongue in an instant. He grabs James’ ankles, settling them over his shoulders, trainers still on and letting his hands drive over white tennis socks, hairy shins and strong calves. Digging his thumb in there and relishing in the gasp he elicits from his husband that way, hips twitching with the suspense. Regulus strokes up his boney knees, massages the big muscle of his thighs, the hair tickling his palms softly, all the while letting himself pitch forward, making sure to spill warm breath over where James wants him most right now.

He goes further, letting his hands rake up and over his stomach, rucking the shirt up as he goes and tucking it over the swell of his pecks, exposing him for Regulus to play with.

James is panting, short little puffs of breath, brimming with excitement and barely refraining from whimpering on the way out each time.

Predictably, he breaks once Regulus lazily swirls a tongue around his exposed nipple, holding the eye contact and watching with satisfaction as James’ eyelids flutter. He can’t help but grin, nipping at the hardened nub before he retreats, settling himself comfortably between James’ thighs and without warning diving right in.

James positively screams the moment Regulus closes his lips around his cock, sucking him into his mouth and rolling him around between his lips until the bucking of his hips throws him off. Regulus hoists an arm over James’ hips, belting him down, and wastes no time inserting one finger into James’ searing wetness, sinfully hot inside.

“Ahh yesyes, please more, love, please m-hah—” James babbles, throwing his head back when Regulus drives into him with another finger, crooking them upwards and watching shamelessly as his husband’s precum pools all over his digits before diving back in to lick at his little cock. 

He works them steadily up to each finger until he is four in deep, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of James and sucking and mouthing at the bundle of nerves until James’ noises grow an edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Regulus asks, muffled between licks, jaw aching slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, gonna– hnng,” James breaks off, screwing his eyes shut when Regulus gives a particularly harsh suck, noises obscenely loud.

He’s fisting the cushions like his life depends on it, white knuckling them in his grip, and it only takes a handful more thrusts and licks before James is shuddering through his first orgasm. Breaths coming quicker until he eventually breaks off into a keen, thighs quivering around Regulus’ head, squeezing at his skull and riding it out, grinding his cunt uncoordinatedly forward into Regulus’ face all the while convulsing around his fingers.

He squeezes in waves of pleasure and it makes Regulus so delirious that he blinks and the next thing he knows is him kneeling against James’ ass, belt undone, slacks shoved down just enough and prodding at his slick, puffy entrance with the head of his cock.

James is staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, mouth agape and pupils so dilated they’ve swallowed most of the beautiful, dark chocolate brown.

“Baby,” Regulus prompts, bending James’ knees towards his ears with a grunt, “Jamie, be a good boy and hold these there for me.” His husband slowly blinks him back into focus, silently obliging and hooking his fingers into the bend of his knees—thank the higher powers James still does yoga once a week.

Regulus leans in, one hand holding him up off the couch, the other fisting around the length of him and smearing it through James’ wetness, “Now are you going to be able to be good and keep yourself wide open for me or are you already fucked too stupid, huh? An old man? Maybe we should postpone it for next year, ay papi, what do you say?”

James whines pathetically, rubbing his head into one of the throw pillows, knotting his black hair up even more before he swallows frantically, “No, Reg, pleaseplease, I can take it. Please, love, I’m gonna be good for you, I prom–Aah—”

Regulus bottoms out in one smooth thrust, vision dotting with black spots at the mind bending heat and vice grip James has on him, already pulsing around him shallowly.

He grants James a moment to get used to being full, slowly rocking his hips back and forth and listening for when his whimpers turn into soft moans, turning needy again, and then he reaches up to grip his chin, “Then take it, slut.”

The pace he picks up into is hard, not too fast but unforgiving and steady, a sure way to drive James crazy. Regulus nips his way along his husband’s chest, nuzzling his nose through chest hair and biting and licking at his dark nipples, tasting salt and sweat, feeling his cock twitch at the taste deep inside his husband.

When Regulus feels himself lose rhythm he hikes James’ legs impossibly higher, draping one of them over his shoulder before he starts spanking him again. The angle is awkward but it’s working, going off of the way James keeps jerking at the stinging contact, clenching around the length of Regulus and working himself into a frenzy, gasping and whimpering and groaning like he’s getting the best cock of his entire life. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” Regulus demands, breath stuttering as he watches a fat tear roll down the side of James’ face, disappearing into the shorter hair at his temple.

Regulus keeps James’ thighs wide and open, rolling his hips with abandon, groaning and panting with every thrust, feeling sweat bead on his forehead and desperately trying not to lose control when James snakes a hand between his legs, frantically circling his cock while Regulus keeps pumping in and out of him.

“If you could only see yourself, baby,” Regulus grits out, “Fucking masterpiece, splayed out for me like this. Obliging my every demand, so fucking good, baby.”

James moans happily, tongue lolling out and without thinking Regulus sticks two of his fingers into his mouth, rubbing over his tongue and feeling the saliva coat them thickly.

“Can you go ahead and cum for me again, Jamie?”

James whines an affirmative around his digits, slurping messily, a trickle of drool trailing down the corner off his mouth.

“Think you’ll be a good boy and squirt all over me, baby? You know how much I love when you cum like that, hm?”

James breath hitches impossibly, eyes threatening to flutter shut as he nods deliriously.

Regulus quickly grabs him by the jaw, “Keep looking at me, James. I know you can do that for me, baby.”

And so he does.

On the next thrust James starts quivering again, fingers working furiously over his cock, mouth falling open around a silent scream and gazing Regulus right in the eyes as he pounds into him and James squirts around him. Spraying everywhere, absolutely in all directions and fucking messy, wetting Regulus’ torso and the couch—Regulus wouldn’t be surprised if the carpet wasn’t unscathed either.

That’s really all Regulus can take before his hips stutter in their pace and he buries himself deep inside James, letting the pulsing of his husband’s orgasm milk him dry as he spills and spills his cum into James for what feels like minutes on end.

At some point James lets his trembling legs back down, crossing his ankles tightly under Regulus’ bum as this one keeps jerking into his husband’s hole.

Once they’re both done Regulus is too exhausted to do anything else but collapse forward into James’ chest which he accepts with a happy hum.

They take a few minutes like this, James slowly coming to and starting to play with the curls at Regulus’ nape and Regulus breathing in the comforting scent of James, raking his short nails up and down the side of his ribcage.

After a while James presses a feebly kiss into the side of Regulus’ head, huffing out a big breath that makes Regulus rise with the motion of his chest before he snickers, “Well, happy fucking birthday to me.”

Regulus rubs at his eyes, smudging the remains of eyeliner from the previous evening probably only more.

It’s been a wild night out given that Regulus found himself the only one out of his friend group appearing down for breakfast at the hotel’s buffet. He went for a classic hangover comfort food, coffee with beans and toast and while he longed for the sausages and eggs and fruit and frozen joghurt Regulus isn’t fool enough to think he would have been able to keep all of that down.

Sleep is already tugging at the corners of his mind again when he presses the elevator button to bring him back up to his hotel room to doze away another few more hours. There’s a nice breeze coming in from the double doors leading out to the pool and Regulus leans against the cooling marble of the wall, eyes closed, soaking it all in.

It’s been Pandora’s idea, to get the five of them out for a few days over easter, away from home. From work and family—not that the latter was much of Regulus’ concern—and Regulus must admit that this one is definitely one of her better experiments.

The elevator doors ding and Regulus blinks open his eyes and steps forward only to come to an immediate halt because— 

Because there’s a baby in the lift.

Just– all by itself.

Sitting in its buggy. Completely at ease.

Alone.

No like…parent or guardian inside.

What appears to be a small boy with the wildest sort of curly, black hair Regulus has ever seen sits in his seat, one spiderman sock barely hanging onto his toes, chewing away on a toy in his lap and gazing with big, intensely green eyes up at Regulus.

“Uh, hi there, baby,” Regulus says. He sets a foot onto the threshold to keep the doors open and bends down, “Where’s your family, buddy?”

The kid suddenly throws his little body back into the padding of his buggy with a blinding grin and a screech of what Regulus assumes to be ecstatic elation, “Pafoo!”

“Bless you, mate,” Regulus replies politely.

The little boy reaches his hands out to Regulus, “Out!”

And, well, the little bugger might be onto something here because as of right now Regulus must look like a right nutter talking to the inside of an elevator and if the little one’s parents are going to try and find him they’ll probably start at the elevator areas on each floor.

So Regulus gets the small kid out of the elevator and wheels him over to where a set of dark leather sofas and armchairs are gathered opposite the elevator doors.

When Regulus sits down across from the little boy he giggles, happy as ever, as if nothing was amiss.

Well, at least the one time Regulus finds a lost baby it’s a happy one. Lucky draw, he thinks.

The boy is back to chewing on the little rubber ring again and Regulus eyes him curiously, chin propped on his fist. The boy’s skin is a warm brown, similar to Evan’s and Pandora’s and there’s a faint layer of freckles dotting his nose—just like it will happen to Regulus after a few more days out under the Hawaiian sunshine. There’s a small patch of drool on his yellow shirt but he looks clean otherwise. 

After another moment of inner contemplation Regulus finally reaches out and tugs the sock back into place. 

The boy snickers, wiggling his foot and Regulus finds his lips tugging at the corners.

“Pafoo, out!” the boy repeats again.

Regulus frowns, “Yeah, mate, I already got us off the elevator.”

The little boy keeps squirming in his seat.

“Oh,” Regulus makes when it dawns on him, “Oh, out. Er– yes, sure, hold on.”

He scoots forward on the leather to inspect the little belt trapping the boy in his seat. Eventually Regulus finds the lock, figures out the mechanism and untangles the boy from his buggy. Before he has the chance to freeze and wonder if the boy is even old enough to be able to walk yet there are small, chubby arms reaching out to him and tangling around his neck.

“Oh, okay,” Regulus blinks, feeling his tiny body warm where it’s pressed into his chest, “Um, okay, I’m– okay, uh. Hi.”

The boy pulls back from the crook of Regulus’ neck, smiling brightly. “Hi,” he replies, sweet as sugar and waving a hand at him. Regulus’ heart does not melt.

Regulus’ eyes however clock the small bracelet on the boy’s wrist, donned with little letters spelling out the name Harry.

“Harry, huh?” he asks. “My name is Regulus.”

Harry makes another one of his loud, elated noises, “Pafoo!”

“Nah, mate, Re-gu-lus.”

“Pafoo,” Harry grins.

“Fine,” Regulus sniffs, “I guess I shouldn’t expect too much from a one or two year old.”

Harry giggles again, nose scrunching adorably and hiccuping little laughs into Regulus’ shoulder. 

If Regulus had ovaries he’s pretty sure they would be actively doing something right now which– is decidedly a disturbing thought to have. In a manner of trying to distract himself Regulus looks around, gaze landing on the socks once more.

“So what’s your favourite Spiderman movie, Harry?”

“Spidey!”

“Yes, which one?”

“Pafoo.”

“Mine’s probably the one with Andrew Garfield.”

“Mo!” Harry yells suddenly, pointing back at his buggy.

“Mo?” Regulus asks, confused.

“Mo,” Harry makes again, knocking his tiny, loosely curled fists against each other.

That’s when the clarity washes over Regulus, lips dropping open with a silent oh of understanding. It’s sign language for more. 

He’s seen young parents teach their babies sign language for easier communication and with Dorcas being hard of hearing Regulus and his friends obviously have taken on learning a whole lot as well. The basics are as easy for Regulus as English and French are by now.

“More of what?” Regulus asks, doing the according signs.

“Tea!” Harry responds, smiling brightly, clearly happy with being understood.

Regulus kicks at the buggy to turn it and then fishes a sippy cup out of the holder next to the handles.

Harry slurps away at his cold tea content and does the little gulp ahh thing small kids do when they exhale once they’re done drinking. 

Regulus does not think about adopting a baby.

“Harry!” someone calls from the end of the hall suddenly and may the gods stand by because the person running over is undoubtedly the most handsome man Regulus has ever seen.

The small boy in Regulus arms is literally a carbon copy what with the wild, black hair, the dark skin and the bright smile.

“Dada!” Harry yells, as if it wasn’t clear as day that they share the same DNA.

Regulus’ hands start sweating where they’re still around Harry’s now wiggling body, watching the young man rush over.

“Oh, god, thank you thank you,” the stranger chants, carefully lifting Harry out of Regulus’ hands, “Hi, baby, hi. Daddy’s here. Oh, holy fuck.”

Regulus snorts a little at the crude language but, alas, Harry is probably too young to remember anyways. 

He gives them their little moment of embracing, fighting against the restless squirming in his stomach, the thing scratching at the inside of his walls demanding to find out everything about the cute boy’s father.

Once the young father has got enough squeeze time and Harry starts trying to wiggle free, he lets out another string of curses, this time Spanish, and Regulus barely refrains from whimpering.

He has to trap another one behind his teeth when the man finally, actually glances at him, relief clear on his features, laughing breathlessly and chocolate brown eyes glinting happily and with ebbing nerves.

“Thank you, I’m–” the handsome stranger blinks a little, mouth working uselessly before he slips back into a lopsided grin, “Hi, I’m James, you- wow, hello, uh– thank you, um, for Harry. I’m so glad he’s okay, I’m James– by the way. And you are? Aside from my gorgeous knight in shining armour.”

Regulus cocks a brow, hands on his naked hips right above the elastic of his short running pants and below his cropped, black shirt with pink letters saying those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. It was a Christmas present from his friends and the first thing he saw after rolling out of bed with a hangover this morning, sue him.

“No problem, he’s a little sunshine,” Regulus replies, gazing at Harry where he’s fiddling with James’ necklace, “I’m Regulus.”

“Wait,” James says, jaw dropping, “Your name is—”

“James!” it comes from the other side of the hall, followed by another rush of footsteps and Regulus turns to see two more men jogging over to them. One of them being—

“Jesus, fuck, I’m so glad you found him,” Sirius says, eyes fixated on James and Harry.

Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother Sirius.

Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother that he hasn’t seen in four years.

Sirius with his long-ish hair falling down to his armpits now in long, soft curls. Sirius with his arms full of tattoos and wearing red bootie shorts and having pierced nipples and Sirius with pink cheeks and a relieved look on his face and Sirius having his fingers interlaced with another man’s.

Sirius blowing out another breath as he strokes the little boy’s cheek carefully, “Where’d you find h—”

Sirius that swivels and looks right at Regulus standing dumbfounded in a random hotel lobby on fucking Hawaii.

“Regulus.”

“Sirius.”

“I– what are you doing here?”

Regulus narrows his eyes, “I found Harry.”

“You what?”

“Are you deaf?” Regulus shoots back, “I found your friend’s baby.”

Sirius’ mouth drops open, “Excuse me, that is my godson.”

Regulus slips into a frown, suddenly and stupidly feeling a bit possessive over the little kid that is clearly taken with him but apparently supposed to be his older brother’s godson. 

He sniffs, crossing his arms, “Well, you’re clearly not doing your job well seeing as you’ve lost him. Also he called me his Pafoo.”

Regulus expects Sirius to volley back another insult, a counter-argument or something of the likes but instead he lets the loudest, most dramatic gasp rip from his throat.

“Oh God,” James mumbles, blanching but failing to keep his lips from twitching.

The man next to Sirius looks just as conflicted, instantly cooing into Sirius’ ear soothingly and rubbing his shoulder as this one whimpers like a wounded dog.

“What?” Regulus asks, looking at James.

The handsome father winces with a badly concealed grin before he ducks close, murmuring, “It’s Padfoot. That’s what we call Sirius, it’s sorta his nickname.”

Regulus can’t help it, the gleeful laugh bubbles right out of him. He could kiss little Harry right now.

“No!” Sirius wails, letting himself fall back into the lanky, taller man’s arms. “Betrayal!”

“Come now, Pads, he’s 18 months old,” the third man says soothingly.

“Remus is right,” James concurs, “Harry doesn’t even know my mum from our neighbour most times.”

“Effie doesn’t live with you,” Sirius cries out.

Regulus thinks there might actually be tears forming in his eyes.

“And neither do you,” James says pointedly, “You’re across the hall and you work full time, might I remind you. You’re over maybe four times a week.”

“Five! At least!”

“Sirius, darling, please stop yelling,” Remus mutters, glancing at a passing old couple with a wobbly smile.

Regulus grins, “No, please keep going, this is the highlight of my vacation so far.”

There’s a poke in his naked side and when Regulus looks over James is giving him a playful scolding glare.

Regulus digs his teeth into his lower lip, voice purposefully innocent, “What?”

“Don’t be a tease,” James chides but it sorta loses the edge with how wide he’s smiling.

“Or else?” Regulus counters.

James hums, giving Regulus a once over before clearing his throat, looking back at his friend, “Here, Moons, can you take Harry for a second?”

Sirius makes an affronted noise, looking downright stricken and he quickly takes Remus’ outstretched hands, pulling, what is presumably his boyfriend, out of reach for James. “Two Potters in one day!? Prongs, are you trying to kill me?”

James sighs, pulling Harry back against his hip which then decides to reach out his hands to Sirius, “Pafoo.”

“That’s right,” Sirius sniffs, crossing the distance and ripping Harry from James’ hold, “I love you, little stinker. You’ll get it with time, I know you will. You’re such a smart boy, Hazza.”

Harry immediately starts playing with the thin braids in Sirius’ hair and his brother swivels to level Regulus with a triumphant smirk.

“Whatever,” Regulus says, crossing his arms again.

But before jealousy, no matter over whom, can spread itself in Regulus’ chest, Sirius is stepping closer.

Regulus is certain their flip flops nearly touch and Sirius is staring at him intensely with the same eyes he sees in the mirror every day, and it makes him swallow. The freckle over Sirius’ mouth is just the same as four years ago, as is the one on Regulus’ temple. 

“There’s a baby swimming lesson at the pool I wanted to attend with Harry later at 2,” Sirius says, voice husky, “Care to join?”

Regulus was supposed to meet the others back in Barty and Evan’s room at 3 but they’re probably passed out until then anyways. “I think I can make some time,” he replies airily.

Sirius blows out a heavy breath through his nose, before slipping into a grin, “Good.”

“Good,” Regulus mimics.

“I bet Harry floats better than you,” Sirius taunts, “Do you still sink like a stone?”

“It’s amazing how much of a talent you still possess for making me regret things,” Regulus snips back.

Sirius bumps their shoulder together, making Harry giggle and Regulus purses his lips in an effort to hide his smile.

And then James is there on the other side of him, taking Harry back from Sirius and smiling sweetly down at Regulus and for some reason his cheeks feel a little warmer suddenly.

—

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus comes back into the living room, mug of steaming tea in hand and he rolls his eyes as soon as he, too, hears James and Barty where they're still out on the balcony arguing, cigarettes long stubbed out in the ashtray.

Evan grins, lifting the blanket as Regulus lets himself plop down and snuggles into his side.

“What’s it about this time?”

Evan snorts, nuzzling the black curls behind Regulus’ ear, “You think I know?”

Regulus shakes his head, like a disappointed old grandpa and Evan’s grin widens.

Outside, Barty makes an incredulous noise, half rising from his chair before he sits back down, trying to talk over James’ continuous arguing.

Regulus makes a soft groan in irritation, tipping his head back against Evan's shoulder. There’s a triangle of moles right under the hinge of his sharp jaw, teasing Evan to put his mouth to good use.

“It’s never nothing with the two of them,” Evan murmurs, warm breath ricocheting off Regulus’ skin and back at him.

It makes Regulus tilt his head back down, eyes narrowing and searching for something in Evan’s expression. He hums a little, sinking lower into the cushions and Evan’s embrace.

“Think we should keep ourselves busy, don’t you?” Evan says, catching Regulus’ eyes skipping down to his lips, “Who knows how long they'll be at it this time.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything but he tips his chin up and he lets Evan hook one of his legs over his lap without fuss. Evan watches the line of his throat move when he swallows, “You smell like lemons.”

“And limes,” Evan corrects with a grin. “You're off your game, whiskers. Something distracting you?”

Regulus’ slack expression slips into a glower and Evan chuckles, bumping their noses together. “I spooned some of Barty’s protein yogurt after dinner when he wasn’t looking, too busy nagging at James while they were doing the dishes.”

Regulus snakes a hand under Evan’s t-shirt, caressing the skin, “’s it taste anything good?"

The tiny devil on Evan’s shoulder does a little happy spin, “Why doesn’t the chef try for himself?”

Evan happily swallows the little pant betraying Regulus’ indifference before their lips connect.

He doesn't even have to goad him, their tongues nudging immediately as Regulus eagerly parts his mouth.

It's a wet slide of lips and Regulus’ short nails digging a little desperately into the side of Evan’s ribs when he sucks Regulus’ lower lips between his teeth.

James lets out a loud string of spanish curses outside, slamming a fist into what must be the metal of their balcony railing and Regulus sucks in a breath against Evan’s cheek and oh, is Evan having fun on this beautiful Friday night.

More kissing, hands grabbing and shucking away clothes and when Evan tugs Regulus closer by the hip he makes an entirely too sweet needy noise that goes straight to Evan’s cock.

They keep licking into each others’ mouths, Barty’s and James’ aggravated voices a quiet muffle in the background, and Regulus keeps making these little noises, squirming in place and adjusting his hold on Evan again and again, fingers clenching and unclenching and Evan can’t help himself but grin into the kiss.

It disrupts their rhythm and Regulus makes a complaining grunt that tells Evan he’d roll his eyes right now if he wasn’t currently busy eating Evan’s face off.

He’s so cute Evan wants to take a fucking bite out of him.

Or maybe finger him until he squirts all over the couch.

Evan gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek and then works his way down his neck and Regulus is restless, shifting around and then his fucking knee slides over where Evan is rock hard and he stutters out a truely embarrassing groan for it being a fucking knee.

But Regulus is an angel because he moans in response and slides his fingers into Evan’s bleached curls like it’s second nature whenever he needs something to hold onto.

“Evan,” Regulus speaks up, voice husky and eyes a little glassy when Evan lifts his head to look.

“Reg?” Evan says sweetly, cocking his head, before he goes back to the mark he was about to suck into the pale expanse of his throat.

“I’m– mgh,” Regulus swallows, out of breath, “Can you—”

Evan’s lips twitch into another smile, “Huh? Pardon, I can’t hear you, bébé.”

Regulus huffs but he makes another obscene noise when Evan trails his fingers up the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to where Evan already knows he wants him.

Another of his complaining noises—Evan lets out a snicker against the soft skin and gets a shiver in response—and then, “Want your fingers.”

“Want my fingers, love?” A gentle bite into the tendons of his neck.

Regulus arches, nodding against the cushions, “Please.”

And who is Evan to deny a polite plea as sweet as that of his lover?

Regulus’ sweats, that are actually Barty’s, get discarded. He isn’t even wearing any boxers, nom de dieu, and then Evan is slipping the tip of his middle finger through where Regulus is sinfully slick.

He throws his head back with a moan that Evan feels reverberating down his spine and then Regulus is looking at him with big, silver eyes. Wide and needy and dark brows furrowed and, fuck, so fucking wet for him Evan simply slips in two fingers at once.

And maybe he shouldn’t have. Honestly, should have taken it easy—Usually he’s the last out of the four of them to lose his patience but with Regulus looking at him like that?

Evan presses their lips together, heated and rough, and Regulus welcomes him happily. Makes a high-pitched noise when Evan curls his fingers before starting a slow pace of pumping in and out, thumb drawing slow, teasing circles around his cock.

Suddenly there’s a sharp noise from outside, one of their garden chairs scraping against the tiles of the balcony and then the door flings open.

“—the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

“If I’m gonna have to listen to your fucking bullshit only one more second I’ll start to get violent, B. Reg is still pissed we didn’t get the blood stains out of the—”

“Fuckin’ pussy. I told you to– oompf,” the sound of someone walking into another body, “James?”

“Shut up.”

“You- fuck you. I’ll—”

“B, look.”

“—fucking destroy you, P- oh.”

Evan peeks over the back of the sofa to see James and Barty standing dumbly in the middle of their living room, expressions slack and balcony door wide open behind them. He crooks his fingers again and Regulus whines brokenly, throwing his head back, mouth parting in a perfect little o and Evan watches James eyes bulge behind his glasses and Barty’s tongue lolling out.

Can’t help himself when he grins menacingly, tilting his head and thumbing over Regulus’ cock again, making the man beside him arch.

“I- you seeing this, Crouch?”

“You fucking bet I am, Jamie.”

“Since when have they- How long were we out there?”

“Dunno but I do know I’m not missing another second of this. Budge up, Rosier. You’re going to get your dick sucked so good.”

“Fine with me as long as you do it ass up,” James murmurs lowly, “Gonna fuck that wrong opinion right out of you.”

Barty scoffs a laugh, “You wish.”

“Then dibs on Regulus riding me.”

“You—”