✺ (1/4) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: switch — 765 words (mild nsfw, trans Reg; inappropriate secret activities at the brunch table)
James is pushing his luck at this point, and he knows it. Can’t help it, really. The heat in Regulus’ cheeks never fully gets the chance to fade, no matter how long a break he gives him, and it’s worth it. Fuck, it’s so worth it. He’ll deal with whatever turnaround he’s got coming to him later, because this? Oh, James is riding this high for as long as he fucking can.
The tiny little remote sits in the curl of his palm, tucked beneath the brunch table. It weighs less than his phone, about as big as his thumb, at best, and yet the power he wields with it is otherworldly.
A small red switch that clicks on and off, a plus button and a minus button beneath it to control the intensity of vibrations —it’s all he really needs. He’s been messing with it in starts and stops for the last hour, knowing full well that while he absently fidgets with the buttons and switch, Regulus is squirming one seat down across the table, absolutely ruining that vibrating g-string James got him for Christmas.
It’s been a little while since James last clicked it on, giving Regulus the opportunity to eat his food without the threat of accidentally inhaling a bit of french toast and truly calling more attention to himself —James is courteous like that. Now that they’ve all settled into chatting over coffee and mimosas, winding down after finishing up their meals, though, it feels like as good a time as any.
The setting was left on the lowest it could be last he turned the switch off, but James still doesn’t miss the way that Regulus flinches out of the corner of his eye when he clicks it back on again now, not expecting it after the extended reprieve. James glances away from where Sirius and Remus are chattering back and forth about wedding details to where Regulus sits between Barty and Dorcas.
He’s not even a little surprised to find a glare already fixed on him.
Feigning innocence, James pulls his lip between his teeth, bats his eyelashes. Presses the plus button three times in rapid succession. It’s too much too quickly when James knows that Regulus is already oversensitive, undoubtedly uncomfortably slick and swollen where he rubs his thighs together and shifts in his chair for some modicum of relief from the teasing his clit’s been subjected to since they sat down.
Another click of the plus button and Regulus’ hand comes down on the edge of the table harshly, rattling glasses and silverware, grip white-knuckled. Dorcas startles out of her conversation with Lily and Pandora across the table to look at him in concern but Regulus only waves her off with his free hand. Sirius’ head whips in his brother’s direction, dark brows pinching together when he catches the flush burning in Regulus’ cheeks, spilling over the edges of sharp jawline and down the sides of his neck.
“Alright, Reggie?” He calls.
“I’m fine,” Regulus hisses through his teeth. He catches his own strained tone and lets out a vaguely hysterical sounding laugh, making a rushed grab for the last of his mimosa in front of him. He downs the couple gulps in a hurry then breathes in deeply through his nose. “Another round?”
Sirius, bless him, thinks nothing of it, merely agrees and waves down their waitress —Regulus doesn’t drink in excess often, this could just be written off as a little too much too early in the day, weird as it may seem. No reason to suspect anything nefarious is going on anyway. Not like Regulus and James are running about advertising the things they get up to. Even though all of their friends know they’re together and have a bad habit of making that fact everyone else’s problem in some way or another.
Barty snorts beside Regulus, straight across the table from James, and catches his eye; doesn’t seem to miss a thing, Barty Crouch Jr., no matter how often he leads others to believe he does. He looks back at James with one brow arched upward, dark eyes dangerously knowing, lips quirked at the edges where he sips at a glass that’s straight champagne more than a mixed drink.
“Buzzing this morning, aren’t we, Reg?” Barty mutters, just loud enough for the two people it’s intended for.
James clicks the remote’s switch back to off instantly. Despite the soft whimper that escapes past Regulus’ clenched teeth, there’s still a positively murderous glower shot James’ way.
Oh, he is so fucked later. James can’t wait.
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just rewatched the i got you scene and noticed a kinda cute detail i've never really paid attention to before. greg comes around to "say congrats", and for a moment there, tom refuses to talk or even look at him. like even when he's not shaking hands or chatting with anyone, his eyes just wander around the room like there's absolutely no one next to him. even when greg asks "how is it all looking?" he just responds with a disinterested "uh-huh", then tries to look at greg, gives up, manages to look at him for like two seconds then looks away again. and you can see he is actively trying to ignore greg's presence, like he's giving him the ice treatment for his betrayal, but it's such a childish behaviour it just turns out funny— especially after greg pushes it a little with his "plans, planning?" and he tells him that he's keeping gerri, that he "doesn't need these two old cunts on his shoulder" and etc, because there's literally no one in that room (or in the world, really) that he can share those thoughts so openly with. there's no one that he can show his venomous side to, no one whom he can be himself with, except for greg. and he knows it. his attempt of a punishment doesn't last long, it doesn't last at all, because the moment greg stares at him with that worried, dumb opened-mouth expression, it's over, he just can't keep the facade. so he fucks with him a little, says that he's fucked, that he's a piece of shit, just because he can, then immediately compensates for it with his I got you that basically means Yeah mattson hates you but i'll convince him to keep you; Yeah you betrayed me and put my position at stake but i forgive you because you are you and i am me when i'm with you and if i'm gonna do it i wanna do it with you by my side. and like ofc greg was all anxious about losing the job, he can't read tom's thoughts. but tom knew damn well he wasn't going to let greg go, he knew since he put those stickers on his pocket. he knew greg was his to covet.
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"There's no hope for him now, Travis. He's suffering. You know we've got to do it."
"Yes, Mama. But he was my dog. I'll do it."
[image description: six gifs arranged in two columns to show a parallel. The gifs on the left are from the 1957 movie Old Yeller. Travis raises his shotgun; Old Yeller turns his bloodied face towards the camera; Travis struggles not to cry as he holds the shotgun pointed at Old Yeller.
The gifs on the right are from Black Sails. Silver raises his pistol; Flint's bloodied face looks sadly at Silver; Silver sets his jaw as he holds the pistol pointed at Flint.
/end description]
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