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itsjaywalkers · 1 month

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omg laurie!! prompt game!!!!!! can i get 93: “I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore" ? pretty plssss ily

hi dil my darling <333 and of course you can!! anything for u and ur delicious brain!! i kinda went overboard with this one too, and it's . very messy bc i wrote half of it drunk but . i hope u enjoy it anyway <3

93. "I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."

Regulus splashes some water on his face, careful not to ruin the very light makeup Pandora put on him. It’s barely noticeable, really, but he thinks it looks nice, taking some of his paleness away and making him look more alive. Almost like he’s glowing.

He didn’t like it much, at first. Pandora had been true to her word and hadn’t done anything too drastic, but Regulus could still tell the difference. His face wasn’t his face, and he hadn't been able to look his reflection in the eye for more than a handful of seconds.

After a few drinks, though, his perspective has shifted a little. He had caught sight of his face on the glass doors that give way to Sirius’ balcony about an hour ago, and his first thought had been ‘pretty’. It might have been the alcohol talking, or the fact that the room had begun to spin slightly.

Regulus refused to believe that it had something to do with the heavy gaze he could feel from the other side of the room. The eyes following every single one of his movements with such intensity it had felt like a touch.

He closes his eyes tight. No, he isn’t gonna go down that path. Regulus has learnt his lesson, and it had brought him nothing before. Except shame, except disappointment.

Heartbreak.

He’s done with that shit. Regulus has come to the party to see his brother, now that they’re trying to spend more time together, and to have fun with his friends. There’s this one really sweet guy at work who he’s been talking to more than usual and agreed to hang out with, and he’s recently moved to a flat all on his own. It’s small, but cute, and more than enough for him. And more importantly, it’s his.

Things are finally looking up, and there’s no place for warm brown skin and dimpled smiles. Not unless it’s from afar, a safe and respectable distance that doesn’t put any ridiculous ideas in Regulus’ brain. Hope has never done him any favours, and he’s had enough of—

A knock on the door pulls him out of his daze and makes him jump a little.

Regulus blinks at his reflection, eyes sliding to the door he can see right behind him. His mouth parts in a tiny sigh.

“Just a moment,” he exclaims, drying his hands as fast as possible.

There’s a pause.

And then.

“Regulus.”

He freezes up on the spot, hands still holding the towel and shoulders going stiff. Regulus can hear his own heart rumbling inside his mind, the breath he was about to take completely stuck in his throat.

There’s no way. He must have heard wrong. He must have mistaken the voice, even though it’s one he's sure he knows like the palm of his hand.

It’s probably his brother, who’s worried about how long he’s been gone. Or Pandora. Maybe even Barty, trying to get him to dance once again, or simply looking for some company, if he and Evan have gotten into a fight. Again.

“Regulus, c’mon,” the voice speaks up again, sounding even clearer now. “I know you’re in there. Can you open up, please?”

A wave of nausea assaults his body, and Regulus grips the sink, not knowing if the sudden sickness is due to an excess of alcohol or to the person insistently knocking on the door.

There's no way. There's no way.

He glances at his reflection once again, not surprised to find a look of absolute horror twisting his face.

"Regulus, please."

Fuck. This might be his worst nightmare.

He takes a deep breath and finally pushes away from the mirror, taking step after step towards the door. Surprisingly, he barely hesitates, only stopping for a couple of seconds before he grabs the handle and opens wide, schooling his expression into something he hopes looks neutral. Indifferent.

James Potter stands in front of him in all his glory. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt with the tackiest print Regulus has ever seen in his life, but the fact that it's unbuttoned to almost his navel distracts from this fact, and forces people to focus on hard muscle and brown skin. His baggy jeans wrap around his thighs in a way that should be illegal, and his shoes, despite being old and battered, manage to look charming.

He can't even turn his nose up at them. After so many years, Regulus is nearly as attached to James' red converse as the other man must be.

"Sorry, I was just leaving," Regulus begins, stuttering a little over his words. "You can—"

James is pushing in and closing the door behind him before Regulus has the chance to finish. There's the tell-tale click of the lock, and he gulps, taking a nervous step back as his eyes search James' face. He's unable to read the other boy, too many emotions flunctuating in his expression, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

"What are you—?" Regulus attempts to ask, after a beat of silence, the quiet feeling heavy and suffocating.

"I'm sorry, I just—" James cuts him off, a bit breathless. "I saw you get in here, and I couldn't help myself. I wanted—I needed to talk to you."

Regulus squirms, retreating even further, until the small of his back touches the sink and he leans into it.

"Okay," he mumbles, feigning an indifference he's never felt around James. "What is it?"

James' jaw clenches and unclenches so many times Regulus loses count after the fifth.

"It's just—I'm not—" the other man tries, leaving sentence after sentence hanging. He pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose, exhales softly. "You look good."

Now, this definitely isn't how Regulus expected the conversation to go.

"What?" he wheezes out, happy that the sink is sturdy enough to support his weight. He's sure he'd be on the floor otherwise.

The corners of James' mouth twitch, and Regulus gulps. There's still a certain air of restlessness in the line of his shoulders, but his features seem to have relaxed considerably, after noticing Regulus' flustered state.

Arrogant prick.

"You look good," James repeats, less tentative. "Really good, in fact. I don't think I've ever seen that shirt before. Is it Sirius'?"

"Dorcas'," Regulus corrects absentmindedly, pinching his hip distractedly, certain that he must be hallucinating.

James rarely gives him the time of day, unless he's hanging out with Sirius. This might be the longest they've spoken in all month.

Seriously, what the actual fuck is happening right now?

"Ah." James nods, taking another step forward and reaching out. Regulus tries to retreat, again, but there's nowhere to go, so he ends up attempting to merge into the sink. It does nothing, though, and James is tugging at the hem of the mesh top a second later. "I'll have to thank her, then. It really suits you."

"James, what do you want?"

The other man tilts his head, fingers still caressing the garment, eyes flicking up and down Regulus' torso and making him repress a shudder. He must not do a good job, however, because James' face is splitted into a grin when he raises his head and their gazes meet.

"Are you—" James starts, blinking furiously. They're so close, Regulus catches the exact moment his pupils dillate. "Is that makeup?"

Regulus flushes a vibrant red and looks away, fingers digging painfully into the marble of the sink.

"A little," he admits, hating how small he sounds. "Dora convinced me to put some before we left."

"Fuck," James murmurs, a bit awed. "It's so pretty. You're so—"

"James," Regulus interrupts him harshly. It's one thing to hear a compliment about his clothes, or the soft eyeshadow Pandora put on him, and another to hear James—Yeah, no. He wouldn't be able to take it. "Seriously, what do you want?"

The other man finally lets go of the top and leans impossibly nearer, caging Regulus in between his arms. James' hands rest so close to Regulus' on the sink he can feel their warmth.

"Have you heard of personal space?" Regulus asks, tone too high-pitched for his tastes. He has his eyes fixed on the closed door, heart rattling against his ribcage.

Surprisingly, James mumbles an apology and leans back slightly. He's still absurdidly close, but Regulus can breathe better now.

There's a beat of silence. Regulus thinks he's about to jump out of his skin.

"You said you wanted to talk," he reminds the other man, shifting under the scrutiny. "So, talk."

"I know, I just—I'm not sure about where to start, or how to explain this, I—" James huffs loudly, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. "I shouldn't even be here in the first place, but I—I couldn't help myself. I've been behaving, I swear I have, but you—you look so fucking gorgeous, and you kept laughing with Crouch, and I—"

Regulus raises a hand, halting James' rambling, the dizziness so strong he's about ready to keel over.

"Wait," he gasps, chest heaving. "Wait. I don't understand. What is—What are you saying right now?"

James smiles, fond, and he chuckles softly. "I think you know."

"No." Regulus shakes his head slowly, not sure if he wants to laugh, or cry, or even scream. "You can't—no. You don't know what you're doing right now. You're probably drunk—"

"I've only had a couple of beers."

"Then I'm drunk."

James laughs openly at this, loud and unrestrained, and Regulus bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from beaming at the other man.

"C'mon, I've been watching you nurse the same drink for the last couple of hours. And I wouldn't have approached you otherwise, I'm not that kind of—" James trails off, and when the silence extends for a few seconds too long, Regulus dares to take a little peek.

What he sees almost kills him.

James' gaze is zeroed on Regulus' mouth, pupils so wide you can barely notice the iris. His own lips are slightly parted, and the air seems to be caught in his throat.

Regulus swallows harshly.

"James," he whispers. He thinks it might be a plead.

The other man exhales shakily, but he doesn't snap out of the trance he seems to have fallen in. Not completely.

"Such a terrible habit," James murmurs, almost to himself. "You do it all the damn time, did you know? When you're nervous, when you're thinking hard. When you don't want to let others see you smile. I wish you'd stop. I wish you'd stop, because I'm not supposed to—"

James doesn't even bother finishing talking. One of his hands leaves the sink and hovers a few centimetres away from Regulus' cheek, as if waiting for permission. A shiver runs down his spine, but Regulus doesn't say anything, eyes running away from the other man's and body completely still.

After a moment, James' hand settles on the side of his jaw.

He's warm, he's so fucking warm, and Regulus represses a very embarrassing noise at the last moment, the sound already in the tip of his tongue. He isn't quick enough, however, to stop himself from leaning against the contact.

"You're bound to end up drawing blood at this rate," James continues, sounding a bit odd, like he's out of it. "You ought to be more careful."

Regulus has so many questions. James has never glanced his way twice, least of all in this way. The way that used to be reserved for Lily Evans during the first few years of school, the way that it's now usually directed at whatever person James fancies at the moment, or at whatever stranger he's trying to get in his bed.

James isn't interested in Regulus. Never has been, and with Regulus' luck, never will be. He's just Sirius' little brother. Or at least, that's all he's always been to James.

The other man used to tease him sometimes, about his very obvious childhood crush. It made Regulus blush, both in anger and shame, and yell insult after insult at James' smirking face.

But then Regulus grew up, he made his own friends and stopped spending so much time with his older brother and his mates. He learnt how to hide his crush a lot better, promised Sirius he had gotten over it, and moved on with his life. It had helped, that James had begun to keep his distance, and that he seemed to find Regulus so fucking irrelevant they barely exchanged a couple of cordial words whenever they saw each other.

He has no idea of what's changed. Why James has suddenly decided he wants Regulus now.

Because he wants Regulus. There's no mistaking that hunger in his eyes. That need.

He's sure it's reflected in his own expression.

Regulus opens his mouth slightly, unsure of what he wants to say, of which of his dozens of questions he'd like to ask, when James' thumb slides over his lower lip.

He can't stop himself this time. Regulus lets out a quiet whimper, and James smiles lazily at him, still transfixed with Regulus' mouth. He follows the shape of his lip slowly and with care, the touch feather-light but very much there.

What he does next, Regulus can only blame on the alcohol, on the haze he can feel clouding his mind. He parts his mouth wider and tilts his head forward, until James' thumb slips inside and he can trap it between his teeth.

James hums, pressing even deeper, until the pad of his thumb is rubbing against Regulus' tongue, the message clear. Any remnants of sanity fly out the window after that, and Regulus doesn't even doubt for a single second before he's sucking the finger into his mouth.

He laps at the skin, teases at it with the edge of his teeth, and even hollows his cheeks slightly as he bobs his head, putting on a goddamn show for James. James, who sways forwards, as if possessed, until his mouth is nearly pressed to the back of his slick thumb, practically breathing into Regulus' lips.

James glues their bodies together, and Regulus moans softly at the feeling of the other man's half-hard cock pressing against his stomach.

"Fuck," James pants, eye fluttering shut momentarily. "Fuck. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promised I wouldn't but—shit, I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."

Regulus makes an inquisitive noise, not understanding what James is saying, what he's referring to, too lost on the weight on his mouth and the taste of James' skin on his tongue. But the other man simply shakes his head, pressing a heated kiss on his jaw, and suddenly there isn't any confusion inside Regulus' mind, just a pleasing and calming static.

"Fuck, Reg, baby, can I—can I just—" James wonders aloud, in a rush, breathing gone all wrong and erratic.

Regulus is nodding before his brain even has the chance to send the order, rubbing his own erection against James' and eliciting a pained groan.

A moment later, James is taking the thumb out of his greedy mouth and exchanging it for his tongue, licking behind Regulus' teeth like a man starved.

Regulus can't do anything else but take it, tangling their tongues together and allowing James to explore, to fucking devour him in what is more an attempt at consumption than an actual kiss.

They move against each other, unable to find a proper rhythm on their desperation, open mouths taking taking taking. Regulus buries his hands on messy strands and pulls, and James takes a hold of his ass, groping and kneading and dragging more obscene noises out of him. He pushes and urges him and—

"James, babe? You okay in there?"

The other man doesn't stop, he doesn't even falter; in fact, Regulus isn't even sure he heard it.

Regulus, though. He stiffens. He goes completely rigid, because he knows that voice. He knows the girl it belongs to.

It takes James a little to catch up, to realise Regulus isn't reciprocating anymore, but when he does, he pulls away, a frown twisting his features and gentle hands prodding at Regulus. He's so careful, even now, but what had made Regulus melt before, now only manages to make him sick.

"What's wrong?" James questions softly, and oh, the audacity is almost enough to make him laugh.

"I'm afraid you're needed elsewhere," Regulus tells him, somehow being able to sound even, instead of wrecked.

James looks confused for a painful moment, and then it seems to dawn on him. He has the decency to look guilty, at least.

"Listen, Reg, I—"

"You told me, weeks ago, that it was over. That you two had broken up for good."

"And it is! We are!" James insists, but deflates the moment Regulus glares pointedly at him. "Well, I mean, not exactly, but it's not—it's just very complicated—"

This time, Regulus does laugh. "Oh, I bet it is. But it's okay, James, you can save it. I don't want your fucking excuses. I want you to get out, and leave me alone."

James looks nothing short of devastated at this, and Regulus pretends the sight doesn't completely break his heart.

Good. Now you know how it feels.

"Regulus—"

James reaches out again, wanting to touch, but Regulus flinches, and his hand falls back at his side, the hurt on his expression almost unbearable.

"Get the fuck out," Regulus spits, eyes cold and filled with what he hopes looks like hatred.

James glances pleadingly at him, but Regulus doesn't give in, refuses to give in, and after a tense moment, he lowers his head and turns around, exiting the toilet.

Regulus is just glad he's able to hold his ground until the door closes once more. He can't think of anything worse than James seeing him break down.

#silly little drabbles #jegulus my beloveds #braineater

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