It’s a small space. So it merits a level of closeness that neither of them speak to. They start side to side but Barty quickly adjusts them, pulling Regulus into his lap so his thighs rest on Barty’s right leg and his legs fall between Barty’s. Regulus wraps an arm around his shoulders and the man has the gaul to smirk at him. He’s still brighter than everything else, even in the fluorescent light.Â
“For stability,” Regulus breathes.Â
Barty’s smirk turns dark and he can’t pull his eyes away.Â
“Oh baby,” he drawls. “I’m far from stable.”
Regulus laughs at that, ignoring the pit in his stomach at the term of endearment. It’s genuine.Â
“This isn’t cheating.”
“We’re not cheaters,” Barty scoffs and grabs a set of huge hot pink glasses, placing them precariously on the end of his nose. ”What do you think? Am I pulling these off? Be honest.”
“Not at all,” Regulus breathes, ripping his eyes away from the red mouth in front of him to grab a yellow feather boa to wrap around his neck. He leans back into Barty’s space, not that he ever left, and lets his fingers grip his chin to hold him still as he pushes the glasses up his nose. “Press the button.”