Chapter Text
James didn’t leave his room for another two days and only unlocked the door after Sirius promised that his brother and Barty had left. He didn’t bring up what Barty said, or that James was still wearing the ring, that he hadn’t taken it off since the moment it hit the table.
He was feeling better, physically anyways. His head still ached at times and he would get bouts of dizziness, but this wasn’t his first concussion. It was likely one of his ribs was fractured or severely bruised, but beyond that, he was perfectly fine.
Evan had rescheduled his appointments, and that was the only thing he really felt uncomfortable with. He disliked not being able to work but hadn’t been able to steady his hand enough to draw a straight line just yet, he was getting there.
Instead…he sat on his bed reading the book he had stolen from Reggies room the night he snuck in. The one written for him. There were smears of blood along the black cover and dried along the edge of each page.
James read through it once and though he would never tell anyone, had felt his eyes tear up in the end. The main character, Joseph, the one who was desperate for death after failing the one he loved. The one who held so much power and privilege, yet lacked the capability to destroy himself, had gotten his wish in the end.
Did Regulus think James wanted to die?
Did James want to die?
Evan seemed to think so. Sirius seemed to think so…maybe they were right, maybe he did have a death wish. No normal person would find the most dangerous creature in a bar and beg them to make him bleed.
James sat on the balcony after Sirius had gone to work, breathing in the barely spring air and doodling in the margin of Regulus book as he began to read it again. There were things he didn’t understand, words and alliteration he would have to look up, things that seemed familiar, like he’d read something similar further in.
He underlined passages and made notes in the margins along with his doodles. He drew what he thought the main character would look like, looming and looking around the side of the text.
He did this for hours, one page at a time until he finished the book in only two days.
It took him weeks the first time, reading and rereading paragraphs until they made sense, and even then sometimes he would need to go back and reread an entire page to figure out how each section related to the last.
“Carmens lips were purple, like the Wisteria Emil had been buried beneath so many years ago. When had Joseph forgotten that the worst part of death was not the unbearable scent. It was the eyes. Their unblinking, dry eyes. Carmen had lovely eyes, a brown so dark he hadn’t been able to tell when desire had begun to pull her under. He had to watch much more carefully, the change of her breath, the way she would bite at her bottom lip. The sensuous way she would drag a single finger along the edge of the table before drawing it up the lace on her arm.
Her eyes were black still, but she did not look for him, did not hiss his name as though a predator seeking a meal. She lay astride her settee, the one he had bought for her many moons ago, when her skin sat tight on her muscles and she did not need a cane to walk.
How long had he been gone, that she had withered into this skeletal being?”
He wasn’t sure why it was so important that he understood the book, it wasn’t like he’d read anything in…shit…over ten years? Fifteen maybe? He was still in primary, he thought. He hadn’t been a bad student, top of his class actually, but after seeing his parents blood splattered over the upholstery of their car? After recovering in a house that was not his own with people who looked at him like he should have been prostrate on the ground in reverence of their virtue… he had lost his taste.
James had wanted to lose himself, but he wasn’t able to do so in stories or fantasies. It felt wrong, felt like hope. There was something about grasping onto fictitious happiness that made everything feel so much worse. Instead, he lost himself to the pain of humanity. The wet heat of fucking and the pounding fists of anger.
It was an escape that centered him firmly in reality.
It was another two days until Evan allowed James to return to work. The man picked James up himself in that neat little car that honestly wasn’t much bigger than his bike.
James leaned back in the seat, as far as he could in the cramped space, lit cigarette and open window as Evan played something on the radio that could have been music or just people talking, he wasn’t paying enough attention.
“Why didn’t you come to my place?”
“Hm?” James hummed taking a drag.
“Last time you felt stupid you came to my place, why didn’t you this time?” Evan stared out through the front windshield as he spoke. James shrugged.
“That wasn’t the last time, just the worst.” He watched the smoke as it was sucked out of the window. “Can’t bother you every time I feel the need for destruction.”
“You can.” He looked over for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Ev. Unless you’re going to fuck me or fight me, you won’t be able to stop me.” He leaned across the middle console, getting into Evans space. “Do you want to fuck me, boss man?”
“Fuck off.” Evan pushed his shoulder.
“Come on, boss. It’s been over a week since I’ve had any stress relief.” He grabbed himself, though he wasn’t hard. He didn’t want to fuck Evan, but it was easier if everyone thought it was the only thing he ever wanted.
“Then go out and fuck.”
“Ya know what…I should.” James looked out the window as they came up to the shop. He should, Evan was right, but he…he didn’t want to, and something about that was making him feel even more reckless.
Evan sighed, before leaning forward and hitting his head against the steering wheel a few times, not hard…but not lightly either.
“No, you’re still recovering you shouldn’t be drinking or fucking random people in clubs.”
“You need to make up your mind, Ev.” James pushed the door open, his boots hitting the ground as he unfolded from the low seat. He rounded the car and stepped over the curb to the shop.
“Maybe I should just rent you a whore.” Evan shook his head with a mumble. James had a hand to his chest and the mans back pressed roughly against the brick before he realized he was moving. He held Evan there, hard.
He didn’t know what he was saying, it wasn’t cruel, it wasn’t pointed. He had no way to know that…
The ring on James finger felt heavy, a reminder, a fucking curse. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose before finally letting go.
“Don’t say that again.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and walked towards the door.
“Hey, what the fuck was that?” Evan jogged to catch up, the shop key jingling in his hand. “What’d I say?”
“Nothing.
“Bullshit, James.”
“Just open the fucking door Evan.” James felt restless, skin too tight and his clothes hung on his body like they were wet.
Evan did, unlocking with a click as James pushed through, the harsh chime rung above his head as James turned on the lights and booted up the computer. They worked in silence, Evan staring at James when he thought he wasn’t looking and James trying his best to work through the unrelenting feeling of betrayal.
Betrayal at the thought that; One, James would ever be that hard off to buy someone’s affection and Two… That he could ever buy another human being after he saw the consequences of such. Of what it did to the other person.
It was a little over an hour later when James sat at the desk. Dorcus and Pete would be in soon and Evan had come and gone, up to his flat and back but was now printing out stencils in preparation for his client.
“He was a whore.” James said into the quiet room. He heard Evan stop and put down whatever he was holding and stood. He walked over to the partition that separated them and leaned down on the wood. “The guy I was with a long time ago. It wasn’t his choice, he worked for a bad bloke that turned him out like a party trick.”
“Shit.” He heard Evan curse under his breath as he swept a hand over his hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes.
“I just… don’t.” His thumb spun the ring around his finger absent mindedly as he stared at the computer.
“I won’t say it again, I forgot...”
James nodded.
“I have to make some calls, okay?”
“Sure.”
“If Andy comes in, tell her I’ll be back soon.”
“Can do, boss man.” James smirked up at him and Evan seemed to relax. “New client? Haven’t seen her on the roster before.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “Her husband is a long time client, haven’t met her though.”
“Go on, before I change my mind and steal your client. You know women find me irresistible and charming.”
“You have work of your own to make up, mate. Scheduled back to back all week.” James groaned but couldn’t pull down the smile tearing his mouth apart. He couldn’t wait for the hand twinged and the ache.
The door chimed a few minutes later and his client, a man named Imani, came in. He wanted a piece on his upper back, a familial name and religious artwork. James set him up and was shucking on his gloves when the door opened again.
For a moment he thought Sirius had come to visit him, a curse on his lips, but he blinked instead. Because that wasn’t Sirius, and it wasn’t Regulus. The woman was tall with black hair that was curlier than either of the Black brothers, but the facial features were strikingly similar.
As were her eyes, that grey/silver combination that had James standing and staring at the woman.
“Um…Hello?” She smiled. “I’m here to see Evan, I have an appointment at 1.”
“Shit…yeah, Andy right?” James shook himself out. He was absolutely losing his mind.
“Andromeda Tonks, yeah.” Her smile widened as James sat down and prodded his clients back.
“Andromeda? Fucking mint.” He turned to his client. “Take a look in the mirror and tell me how it looks.”
He gave the man a hand mirror and the man shuffled to the back of the store to inspect James placement.
“It’s a family thing, being named after stars. Sort of pretentious if you ask me, and not all of us got out unscathed.” She rolled her eyes.
“No way? I have a friend who has a star name too.” Two friends, he supposed. Though one friend and an acquaintance, his younger brother, who just so happens to intimately know my cock, didn’t sound as good.
“Oh yeah? What’s her name? Nova, Stella? I’ve met more than one Lyra in my day.” She was perhaps in her mid thirties but had that rested and truly happy look about her.
“Evan will be down in a minute, by the way. He had to take care of something, lives above this dive.” He motioned to the wall as though she could see the man through it. “Nah, nothing like that. Sirius, if you would believe.”
The woman’s face dropped.
“Black?”
“No…” James stood from his seat comically fast. “No way are you related to bloody Sirius Orion Black.”
“Holy Shite, you know my little cousin!” The air seemed to swell between them and the connection of their known kin.
Over the next few hours, James learned that Andy had been disowned by her family and moved to Oxford when her now husband was in school. They lived there for years but moved back after her father had tragically (not) passed away. They lived in north London now and though her husband taught at Kings College, she tended a small nursery while taking care of their ten-year-old daughter.
James told her about meeting Sirius four years ago, how they were roommates and how recently his younger brother came back into the picture. He wasn’t sure what to say about Regulus, but she seemed even more shocked that he and Sirius were not only in contact, but friendly.
On a break, James gave Sirius a call and within thirty minutes the man was bursting through door and sending the welcome bell into shrill chime.
“Andy?!” Sirius shouted looking around the shop with wild eyes. Evan barely had a moment to lift up his machine before Andromeda laughed and sat upright.
“Padfoot!” She turned in the seat and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Evan who just sighed and set his machine down. “Have time for a smoke?”
“Always.”
James watched the cousins sneak outside after Evan slathered her in some coconut oil and cellotaph for safety. They were out for far too long, long enough for Evan to stomp out and shout at Sirius for stealing his client away.
Sirius eventually left for work but mentioned he had an early night and would be home by eleven, they exchanged numbers, and it was then that James supposed he could see the allure of cellular phones.
Not that he would get one, but he could see the point when you wanted to get ahold of a long-lost family member.
If you had those, that was.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Dorcus hung over his shoulder as he finished a piece on a clients foot, a beautiful rose that drew a braid of thorns around her ankle like a ball and chain.
Peter was quiet and seemed more reserved than anything. He joined Dorcus in watching James work once or twice, but James had been in such a forward drive that he wasn’t much company after Sirius left. It was near ten by the time his final client left, and though they were meant to stay open until midnight, Evan began to shut the shop down early.
Dorcus had left earlier after being picked up by Marlene, but Pete was still puttering around.
“Petey, lets get a drink.”
“More of a smoker than a drinker.” He had finished cleaning his station for the night and was seated behind the desk, one foot up on the wood and his own tablet resting on the back of his knee while he drew.
“So, lets smoke.” James smiled wide. “Boss man?”
Evan groaned.
“I won’t even drink.” James held up two fingers. “Scouts honor.”
“You were a scout?” Evan rose an eyebrow.
“Sure was.” James stretched out on the couch. “Learned how to tie perfect knots with many uses.”
Peter snickered. Evan huffed through his nose, unsure why he expected a serious answer.
“Where to? Yours or mine?”
“Dee doesn’t like random people in the flat.” Peter said as he turned off the tablet and began to put his things together.
“We’re not random!” James insisted but Peter kept moving.
“Fine, fine. Come to mine, Siri should be back soon anyways. You have any or do I need to pick up?”
“I have a little, not enough for all three, or four of us if your roommate is joining.”
“Ev?”
“I don’t buy.”
“Just poach off everyone else.” James grumbled. “Give me your phone.”
“Excuse me?” Evan gave him a look.
“Or you can call Bee yourself.” James turned eyes wide with a great idea. “Ya know what. I find myself to busy to make such a complicated phone call. Tell Bartemius we need an ounce and that I’ll smoke him up upon delivery.”
James smirked as Evan began to stutter. He picked up his things and grabbed a cigarette out of his pack after shoving his wallet into his pocket.
“No, just take -Make the bloody call yourself-James!” But James was already out the front door, the chime ringing above his head as he huffed out a laugh and lit his cigarette. He watched through the glass of the front window as Evan ranted to Peter, who smirked low and shook his head until Evan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then tapped at his phone and held the thing to his ear.
Check.
James pressed his back against the brick and slowly slid to the ground. The last traces of sunny warmth leeching into his skin from the rapidly cooling sidewalk below.
It wasn’t much later that Evan and Peter made their way out, locking the shop as they went. Pete took his own car and James slid into the passenger seat, absolutely unwilling to get back into the small monstrosity of Evans.
Barty was already there when he and Pete showed up, Evan not far behind.
“Forgive me?” Barty asked as James passed by. He was leaning on the side of his door, hands in the pocket of his jacket. James faltered, arm twitching at his side as the ring he hadn’t forgotten about felt heavy once again.
“Keep yer mouth shut next time, Ay?” He walked past, trying not to notice the sound of a door opening on the other side or the feeling of eyes digging the back of his neck.
James slapped Pete on the back and pushed him through the door and up the steep set of stairs to their floor.
They straggled in, James left Pete and Evan in the sitting room with the front door cracked and the Telly blasting some music channel with too many commercials. He slipped into his room a second later, looking for the matte black book that sat vigil on his nightstand. He tucked it in a drawer beneath his pants and grabbed a sketch pad and pencil before returning back to the room that had a steady stream of voices filtering out conversation.
The window was cracked open and Barty sat beneath it, already rolling a joint. Pete and Evan were on the couch, Evan close to the edge, leaning against the arm rest talking to Barty. Peter was chatting with Regulus, who stood just inside the closed door, black jacket pulled tight as though it weren’t already sweltering in the small cramped flat.
James carefully crawled atop the long coffee table and laid back until the top of his head was just handing off the edge, hair loose and drooping in messy, curling strands towards the floor.
“How you healing up, Bee?” He asked, flipping his pad open and holding it vertically against his chest, the bottom pressed on his skin so he could block out Regulus, where he stood beside Peter.
“Fantastic.” Barty shucked off his sweatshirt, carefully moving the paper from hand to hand before showing James his arm.
“More lotion.” Evan tisked with a shake of his head.
“Never too much lotion.” James nodded in agreement.
“I’ll remember that.” Barty looked down at it with a smirk.
“Remind me before you leave or I pass out, I slather you up.” James pulled a thick line down the center of the page as the noise around him faded into the background. A long vine, hanging off the edge of a building. Maybe a bricked facade… no… definitely not brick, thick stone, layered on layered. The kind that little bugs crawled in and moss hung to the depths of.
“How you healing up?” Barty asked, placing a joint between his lips. James sucked until it hurt, holding for a moment before blowing out through his nose and smogging the paper in front of him down.
“My head or my ego.” James mumbled scratching another line down.
“He doesn’t know what you engraved, Jamie.” Barty whispered in his ear before holding the joint back to his lips. “Been asking me all week like it’s a bloody puzzle.”
James drew deep again, feeling the heady sensation rush down his arms and loosen his shoulders.
“Stop spilling my secrets, Mate.” James blew out a thick steady stream directly into Bartys face. “Or I’ll stop talking you up to Boss Man.”
“Deal.” Barty grinned down at him before smacking a wet kiss against his forehead.
The next hour or two passed bits and pieces, conversations drifting through his consciousness as James took hit after hit that was offered and drew on the sketch pad pressed against his folded leg. It was coming together, his drawing. At first it was loose, just some building, but then the small details began to take shape. The way the early morning light fell on the curve of the rocks and how there were pock marks in the stone itself from years and years of boys, like him, climbing up and into their rooms.
A soft sheet of black hair fell across his face, and with hazy eyes and a lopsided smile, James looked up to see Sirius.
“Watcha doin?” Sirius asked through a stream of smoke that blanketed James face.
“Drawing.”
“I’cn see that.” He leaned back and sat on the side of the table as well, pushing James further over and encroaching on the lazy comfort of his current position. “What is it?”
“Home.” Barty sounded off from behind him. James leaned his head back, Barty and Evan were close, too close to be casual, both leaned on the wall beneath the window, one on one side and one on the other, knees pressed tight as they passed back and forth a joint, though it didn’t look like either of them were still smoking it.
“Shit place was never home.” James leaned his head back up and all to slowly, realized the sketch pad wasn’t in his hand anymore. The pencil was pressed against his jeans, but the drawing he had been working on was gone, in Sirius hand…
Where he was flipping through the pages with his brows low and his lips pursed in confusion.
James snatched it back on instinct. His body moving faster than his drug addled brain could keep up with.
“Did- What?” Sirius looked down at him but James was gone, rolling off the side of the table and standing on wobbling legs.
“Someone give me a cigarette.” He groaned as his head swam.
“James Potter!” He folded his sketch pad in half and shoved it into his back pocket.
“Here ya go mate.” Barty lifted a cigarette in his fingers which James grabbed on his way out and with a loud kiss to Bee, hopped through the window and into the cool moist air.
“Don’t you fucking dare Prongs!” James was trailing down the steep steps to the fire escape before he could think, his head still swimming but the crisp drag of the cigarette and the hiss of burning paper was slowly bringing him back to life.
There was a thud on the landing above him, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t care who it was, Sirius didn’t follow him anymore. Barty never chased after him, Evan would be there but never seek him out.
His boots hit the ground a second later as he high tailed it to his bike, rain began to patter on the ground, a steady stream that wet his skin and felt like yesterday. His keys were in his hand, jingling in time with the steady rap of the pavement.
A laugh left him in a burst of adrenaline, the sound free and foreign and something that James would deal with tomorrow. For today, he grabbed the seat of his motorbike as he hopped over the back, sliding into place with a long practiced ease.
The key was in the ignition and the clutch stomped to start before he noticed a heavy pounding behind him and a warm, solid wall slam against his back. He didn’t need to look back to know who it was, there was only one person who would always follow him.
James shot the bike into gear and tore into the street as two arms gripped tightly around his waist. His laughter grew, chest loosening as he could hear Sirius screaming their names from the balcony above.
“I think he knows.” Regulus said into James ear from behind, his hips shifting forward to grind into him.
“He wouldn’t have, if you’d of stayed put.” James turned his head enough to say behind him.
“When have I ever let you-“ He stopped.
Leave me behind.
That’s what he was going to say, but he didn’t. James felt Regulus’s arms loosen around his waist and in a second he was revving and taking a turn much to fast. His arms tightened and James slowed back down to a reasonable speed. Regulus huffed into his ear as he kept driving. He wasn’t sure where they were going until he pulled in front of Regulus’s flat, further down the road than he would normally park, but for some reason he wanted to stay hidden.
Regulus slid off the back of the bike and ran his hand down James arm, which was still clutching the handles, tightly.
“Thanks for the ride, I was getting bored.” The man continued on with a light wave of his hand and not one look back.
He waited for Regulus to open the door to his complex before making the unconscious decision to follow. Regulus was already through the door by time James got there. He stumbled up the back steps and towards Regulus and Bartys floor, pulling on the handle and... The door was locked.
Fucking locked.
James cursed and kicked at the wood before his mouth turned up at the edge. He pulled the keyring from his pocket and slid the right one into the lock.
The Flat was still, dark. Dim light leaking in through the open windows. James dried his boots on the shitty green rug inside of the door and stepped heavily into the flat. The sound echoing back and forth, making it seem as though no one was there.
Reggie wasn’t there, not anywhere James could see but his boots and coat had been discarded on the floor, haphazardly. As though he couldn’t be bothered to find their proper place.
A shiver of anticipation ran up James spine.
The door shut behind him with a heavy click as a rustling caught his attention. A gentle sound, soft and inviting, shifting. With more confusion than caution, James followed the sound until he was standing in front a door.
Regulus bedroom door was open. There was no reason why it shouldn’t have been, it wasn’t like he had to lock it, or that it being open was an invitation of any kind but still…
Even with him moving slowly, the door creaked on old worn hinges. James moved even slower, one foot before the other after kicking his boots off in the hall and was padding through with black socks. He closed the door after more creaking and a gentle click.
And he stood there, like a fucking creep watching the small mound in the center of the bed. The light streaming through the curtainless windows and the arhythmic lifting of Regulus chest.
James ran his hands over the surface of the dresser as he walked further in. The mirror had been smashed, his knuckles remembered even if he wanted to forget. His fingers lingering over the books there, and though there was no more glass he could see stains of his own blood on the covers.
“Why’d you follow me?” James asked watching Regulus shift beneath the covers.
“Why’d you follow me?” He retorted, the sound biting as though he was raring for a fight.
They hadn’t hashed it out, had they? Hadn’t shouted at each other or spoken about what happened. The minute they began, when the words rushed out of Regulus like magma, when Regulus and Bee had spent the night at his flat, there was too much tension in the air for anything real to happen.
There was tension in the air tonight too, but an entirely different kind. The kind that cuffed your ears and drug claws down your throat.
“Why’d you do it Reg.” He twisted the ring on his finger with the pad of his thumb.
“Do what?” James turned to see Regulus sitting up. One of James old t-shirts on again and…James sucked in a breath. He walked closer, one step at a time towards Regulus who just watched him.
“You know what I’m asking. You’re smarter than that.” James moved to the end of the bed.
“Am I?” Regulus asked with a near hysterical laugh. “Am I smart? Truly? Because I feel stupid. Every bloody time I look at you I feel as though I was kicked in the fucking chest.” Regulus leaned forward, a hand coming up to grip tightly into the fabric of his shirt. “And I still chased after you, like a fucking animal, like I had no other choice but to move the second you jumped out of that window.”
“Trauma response?” James huffed through his nose.
“This isn’t a joke, James.” Regulus turned towards him with a quick twist, eyes narrowed in barely contained rage. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me, Reggie?” He reached down and picked at the comforter, pulling it taught before letting it sink back to the bed. “A great many things I would imagine, far to much to get into in one night. Mommy and Daddy issues, abandonment issues, anger issues, a hair trigger and a cock that won’t. fucking. quit… though right now, only one thing seems to stand out far brighter than the rest.”
“And what would that be?” He rolled his eyes, unamused.
“I can’t, for the life of me, shut the fuck up.” James knelt on the edge of the bed. “My mouth keeps moving and word are spilling out. I think it’s a disease, Reggie, uncurable. I remember reading something about a dancing disease that killed everyone who had it and well… I think It would be dangerous if I kept up this pace.”
“And you think I can help you?” Regulus shifted back onto his elbows, his legs moving the blankets away, so skin was visible, stark and white against the billowing darkness around them. “You think I want to help you?”
James nodded, reaching out and running a finger from Regulus’ ankle up to his knee, further brushing the comforter aside as he circled the round bone before continuing, dragging a rough hands up his thighs. Regulus’s breath hitched and James wanted to swallow the sound.
“I think you have an obligation.” He gripped, hard.
“That’s not how you get what you want, Jamie.” James shivered at the tone change. They had never played like this before. They never flirted or skirted around the issue. James would rip at Regulus’s pants and Regulus would push James’s chest to the ground, hand between his shoulder blades.
No questions, no discussions.
Sometimes Regulus would talk him through it, close to the words James craved but skate around them instead. He would tell James what to do, narrate their actions, which was hot, unequivocally... but never to the degree that would send him into true ruin.
“How do I get what I want?” He crawled further into the bed, situating himself between Regulus’ legs, spreading them further to accommodate his bulk. “Because from where I stand, I could do just about anything I wanted to.”
Regulus looked up at him, head tilted to the side with a softness that didn’t match the heated atmosphere around them.
“Is that so?” He chuckled. “And what exactly would you do?”
Regulus pulled his arms behind his head, which shifted his shirt so the thin lining of his boxer briefs showed. Little black pants that James wanted to pull off with his teeth.
“Well, first, I’ll stretch you with my fingers.” James put both hands on Regulus’ thighs and squeezed. “Then I would eat you, fucking devour your hole until you’re begging for my cock. You did it once and its all I’ve been able to think of since.”
James moved, his hands dragging up, pushing Regulus’ shirt as the pads of his fingers crawled across the tight skin of his stomach, to his chest. He leaned down, breathing against Regulus’ skin.
“I want you writhing.” He leaned forward, pushing one of his legs further to the side with his knee and shifted forward, dragging his thigh up Regulus pelvis. Regulus’s eyes fluttered as he breathed in sharp. “I want you slick and crying for me, begging as I fuck you.”
James pulled his leg forward again, grinding against Regulus and watching him groan. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the mans neck. A small kiss, gentle, below his ear, then his chin. He dragged his tongue down the center of his throat and bit onto the hard bone of his clavicle.
“I want to hurt you.” James looked down, catching Regulus’s gaze and held it hostage. He wanted to see that slice of fear flutter through Regulus’ eyes. Wanted him to kick James out. Needed Regulus to cry or hit, something to snap him out of this embarrassing feral need.
“Do you?” He whispered, his hands finally coming up to James face. “Why?”
He pulled the tie from James’s hair and tossed the black band to the floor before carting his fingers through the long unruly locks.
“Because you were right.” James continued, Regulus hummed. “I’m an unworthy piece of shite.”
“You are right about one thing.” Regulus fingers tightened in James’s hair until he hissed, until the sensation began to sting and he pushed James down the bed. “You do need to shut the fuck up.”
They were slow in their actions, quiet. Shifting bed sheets and rumbling cloth. A hiss of breath as James palmed Regulus through his pants. He eased the mans knee closer together and bit at the soft skin of Regulus thigh, sucking it into his mouth and leaving a mark he knew would bruise. Then another, further up towards the crease, then another on his pelvis and under the bone of his hip.
Regulus held onto his hair, pushing James down with wordless demands, until eventually he relented and slipped his fingers into the elastic on the mans hips and pulled down.
Regulus cock sprang out, drawing a groan from James. Those damned fingers tightened as James looked up from his position of servitude. Regulus rose an eyebrow sharply.
It was a solid lick from base to tip that had Regulus back bowing off the bed. A beautiful arch that James wanted to bite across. He rolled his tongue ring along the bottom before pulling Regulus so far down his throat there was no where left to go. It wasn’t that he forgot how big Regulus was, it was a surprise back then, one that felt more like a gift than anything he’d ever received before.
He wanted to be filled with Regulus, absolutely consumed.
“More.” Regulus hissed, thrusting his hips up, his breath quickening as James placed a palm on his abdomen, holding him still while he devoured each and every inch. James was so hungry, his mouth watering and swallowing around Regulus. He trailed his hand up Regulus chest, plucking at a delicious pink nipple and earing a wanton moan in return.
James pushed onto his knees, curling Regulus’ hips back and getting a better position so he could slip his fingers into the mans mouth. Regulus’s eyes opened wide with unfocused confusion as James continued sucking. Fingers taping at his lips, but he didn’t move. James pulled off, letting Regulus cock bob up, glistening with saliva.
“Suck.” He demanded, and damn if Regulus didn’t open his fucking mouth and twist his tongue around James fingers, sucking them to the back of his throat. James was frozen, cock so hard he could beat someone to death with it and still fuck for hours after.
The thought was ridiculous enough to push him away from the edge. He couldn’t come like that, not again. How fucking embarrassing. With a slick pop, James pulled his fingers from Reggies mouth and pushed him forward by the thigh, curling his stomach and opening him up like fucking present.
His fingers swirled around, pressing softly against his hole. Regulus groaned his hands falling from James hair as one gripped the bed spread beside them and the other fell atop his face like a mask. Hiding his expressions.
The thought was thrilling. After a few more passes, he waited to hear the hitch, waited to feel him relax, before he spat and pushed his middle finger inside.
“Fuck, yes…” Regulus groaned, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He set a slow, languid pace, shoulder pressed against his knee as he watched. Voyeuristic in his demand for pleasure. James watched the way his head shood back and forth, his chest shuddering and body shaking when James curled his fingers just the right way.
The way his toes flexed when James inserted a second finger and the way he began to make desperate keening sounds when he slid in a third.
“Let me fuck you, please Star, please let me fuck you.” James begged, rolling his hips against the mattress and fucking Regulus with his fingers. His breath hitched again, Regulus ground down, his hips seeking friction, seeking more, but unwilling for James to leave him empty. “Please… Just tell me I can, please.”
“Fuck, Jamie you beg so nice.” He reached down and grabbed his hair, pushing down roughly until James took him back into his throat. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”
Regulus ground into his throat, fucking roughly back and forth and taking from James everything he could give. With a hoarse shout and tight fingers, Regulus came. James pulled back enough to watch. To see his eyes pinched closed, the muscles in his abdomen twitching and burning with effort. He could feel him contracting around his fingers and almost imagine it was his cock, almost.
Regulus pulled, gentle but firmly until James let go, Until he dragged his mouth off and looked up to Regulus with a ravenous want. One fucking touch and he would come, but he held it back. He had to. His fucking pride was on the line.
He moved his fingers, twisting and watching the overstimulation drop Regulus’s jaw and draw out the most beautiful noise.
“Stop.”
“Don’t wanna.” He pulled put, watching the way Regulus stretched around him. Their moans mingled as he pushed back in.
“I’ll touch you.” James stopped, eyes finally moving from the place they connected. “But you have to take your fingers out.”
“No.” James pulled back out.
“James…” He pushed them back in roughly and Regulus moaned so loud James nearly fucked him right there. He felt crazy, unstable. Unable to focus on anything at all. He was inside of Regulus, and still needed more, needed everything. “Hey. Look at me.”
James looked up, and…they didn’t do this. Regulus was moving forward, hand to James shoulder and the other grabbing his wrist. He hissed as his fingers moved, and watched each tattooed finger leave Regulus like he hadn’t realized the digits still belonged to him.
He was on his back, pushed down and held, not with force. Not with hands or belts or ties, but with Regulus’s blazing eyes. With the intensity he stared down at James, and James let him
He let Regulus unbutton his jeans and pull them off with only a little effort. Let Regulus slide his hands up the coarse hair on James legs and pull at the elastic edge of the knickers he forgot he was wearing.
“God, you’re a proper Slag now aren’t you.” He bit into James thigh, hard. Punishing, and all he could do was take it.
“Yes.”
“You want me to treat you like the slut everyone knows you are, don’t you?” He grabbed the strap on the side and pulled, elastic snapping with a harsh slap that stung on his hip. “They all see it. I’ve heard them. Oh, what did James Potter do now? And then they laugh like you’re a joke.”
His eyes burned and cock throbbed. The harsh words were unforgiving and fuck did they sound good coming from Regulus mouth.
“Yes.” He whimpered, feeling Regulus teeth on the other side of his thigh. Hard, there would be bruises tomorrow and he couldn’t wait to find them littered in between his brightly colored tattoos.
“You should leave.” Regulus bit again.
“I should, that would be a smart idea.”
“But you aren’t smart, are you?”
“Not when it comes to you.” James whispered knowing it was the truth. Knowing it was a knowledge so deeply honest that it hurt to say, that it climbed out of this throat on its own as though a sentient creature created from pain and desire and marrow.
“These are sexy, Jamie.” Regulus leaned down and bit into James thigh again. Harder than before, he pulled the skin in between his mouth before moving to the next space, then the next. He could feel the wetness from Regulus tongue sliding down the inside of his thigh. The sound he made was feral, undignified. “and I would know something about being a proper whore, don’t you think?”
“No.” James shook his head, Regulus wasn’t a whore, he never was. He was lovely and soft and torturous. He was a prince held in an ivory tower that James had never been able to reach.
“I was quite literally a whore James.” Regulus chuckles and ran his fingers along James ballocks, pulling at the skin and sinking his fingers back, just enough to make his body twitch.
“No, you weren’t.” He reached out, grabbing at himself, cupping his cock and squeezing. Anything to relieve the ache and throb.
“You don’t get to tell me what I experienced.” He hissed, hand gripping the lace and ripping till it was nothing more than scraps lying on James thigh.
“Come here.” James felt like he was floating. Stuck somewhere between the past and the present but all together they were here, and it felt like yesterday. But the anger in Regulus was a fire that James couldn’t put out. Wouldn’t even try. It felt like something he couldn’t bring him back from the brink of, because they didn’t do this. They weren’t close like this. For days and weeks and months they had burnt through each other until they had nothing left but coal and ash.
James had more now, he wasn’t sure how he knew it. He wasn’t financially stable, he wasn’t sober, he wasn’t even committed. He was an alcoholic, half crazy, suicidal on the best day, but he was so desperate for Regulus that for perhaps the first time in their lives, he forgot they weren’t these people.
The ones in love.
“You were not a whore, Reggie.” James felt Regulus tense, felt his body revolt and knew he was one second from running away. “Whores have owners and the man who tried is dead.”
It wasn’t the right thing to say. He knew that. It was fucked up, stupid. He didn’t have to say it, he didn’t. He could have let Regulus have his self-deprecation. Could have let him call himself a whore, or just told him no. No, you aren’t. You are a sweet, caring man who I loved more than anything. I’m sorry I broke you.
“I wish…” Regulus began, he pressed his spit slicked fingers against James hole, swirling, adding pressure. James groaned, he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t a good man, and he never claimed to be. “I wish I could have seen it.”
“What?” James tried to sit up but Regulus pushed him back down.
“Tell me what happened.” Regulus slid a finger in, one long press with no hesitation, drawing a sound that used to sit deep in James soul. His hands gripped into Regulus’ hair as he began a slow, languid page.
“I will. Fuck, I will…” He groaned when Regulus slid in a second finger. “First, tell me why you did it, Reg. I have to know why you went back to it.”
His mouth would always be the death of him.
A silence filled the room so loud it was painful.
“I gave you something I had never willingly given anyone before.” His voice was low, harsh. Drawn up from the depths of his diaphragm and James could hear the fight in his words, but his fingers didn’t stop. If anything they moved rougher, faster.. “I fucking gave myself to you, and you left. You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t tell me what you were doing, you just left.”
“I was-“
“I know what you were doing.” He snapped, slamming a third fingers in with no finesse, no warning and the burn felt like ‘I’m sorry’. “Now. I know now why you left. What you did, I know now… but I didn’t then. You left me there with racing thoughts, feeling used and tossed aside like the fucking whore you claim I’m not.”
“Don’t say that.” He begged. He wouldn’t allow anyone to say that, even Regulus… Especially Regulus.
“Why not? Does it make you feel bad? Feel guilty that after nine bloody months you fucked me just like they did?” Regulus hissed through his teeth and James felt himself crack. Felt the anger in him shatter like a brittle bone. “All I did was call myself what you made me. What you took from me. Jamie, you took my fucking Pride.”
“I thought I would be back before you woke up.” James watched the anger in Regulus shift into something worse. He could deal with the stab of vengeance, the look of hated, but not the hurt. Not the anguish he had always tried to draw away from regulus, like sucking venom from a snake bite, James had been desperate to save Regulus in whatever way he could. The only way he knew how.
“You weren’t.” He huffed, a hollow laugh as he twisted his fingers drawing a hopeless whimper from James. “I thought, maybe he went out for take away. Grab coffee and some fags.” Regulus leaned forward, his other hand skating up James shirt, pushing along his skin like he was mapping each curve and divot that had formed without his permission.
“Then morning came and you were still gone. Barty didn’t know where you were, and then we heard about the fire.”
James breath hitched but he didn’t move, not when the silence stretched thin and the only sound in the air was the squelching of his fingers moving. James felt his body tensing, his heart beating at a rapid rate, whether in desire or despair he wasn’t sure, he could barely keep his eyes open. Barely understand what was happening between them, but he was so fucking hard and so fucking desperate.
“By the time the sun was setting, the whole bloody city was in chaos. I walked out of the Flat and all I could smell was brimstone. Burning and celebrations everywhere around me, like they didn’t know you had left, like they couldn’t see how destroyed I already was... They told me Riddle had died, that the cunt had burnt himself up at the docks and I thought, holy shite.” He laughed the words out. “I’m free. I’m fucking free and where is Jamie?”
Regulus finally looked down at him.
“Where were you?” He twisted his fingers and pulled on a nipple ring with his other hand. There was a burst of pain, a torrent of white hot anguish that felt like the buildings of something more. It hung in the air around them like a ghost.
“I left the minute you fell asleep. Packed a bag with everything I needed and left.” He groaned, his body moved on its own, a muscle memory that even after five years was so desperate to remember the feeling of Regulus within him that it knew how to take what James was not consciously ready to beg for. “I watched, waited, and snuck in. Lit a fire in the Wearhouse downstairs and went up the steps. He was…there was someone else there.”
Regulus sucked in a breath quickly, a painful intake that caused him to cough.
“A woman, red hair. Bruises beaten across her face.” His teeth grit together, trying to keep his memories straight. Trying to separate the intensity of this moment to the stabbing pain in his chest. “Riddle told me to join him, that he could see the initiative in me.” He scoffed. “I slashed up his face and stabbed a knife in his fucking throat.”.”
Regulus eyes widened to a near comical level as James continued.
“But he was faster.” His fingers released the blanket below him and slowly pulled across the bare skin of his hip, over the twitching panes of his stomach to join Regulus hand where it sat in the center of his chest. He entwined their fingers, another action that felt so familiar, but he knew truthfully they had never once held hands. “The girl told me about secret exit. We took it before the blood loss got to me and I guess I passed out. Next thing I knew I was waking up with my chest and leg bandaged. Burns on my arms and… the woman’s sister. I was at some clinic outside the city. She said thank you, I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Regulus scoffed lightly, shaking his head and slowing the brutal pace of his fingers, James could see a tear track leading down his cheek. Could see the tight grip of his jaw as he tried his absolute hardest not to bite.
“So, I suppose I did leave you for someone else.”
Regulus shot out a laugh that curdled into a sob. The hand trapped beneath his shook as his face fell into James stomach.
James had long come to terms with the events of that night, though he still dreamed of bloody palms and the shaking sensation that came just before he passed out.
“What you are saying, is that while I was shooting up Heroin and cursing your name, you burnt down a building filled with drugs, stabbed the man who whored me out in the throat, was shot by said man, saved Lily from that bastards bed when I couldn’t, and then…just came home to me the moment you woke up?”
“Was her name Lily?” James asked with a sort of fondness. He thought of the tattoo on his arm, the one covering the burns he had gotten that night, not knowing why he chose to entwine Lilys and roses over the gristled flesh, but now he understood.
This was what they meant when they spoke of fate, of destiny, of faith.
“I thought she’d died… in the fire. I knew she was there and afterwords…she was just gone.”
“Nope.” James popped the P and Regulus looked up at him again, tangled hair a curtain flowing down onto James stomach. “Dunno where she went but anywhere is better than-“James hissed as the fingers were pulled out of him. The twitching sensation of loss was cut off by the press of a second hand on his chest seconds before as a pair of lips pressed against his own.
Foreign, unknown.
He breathed in sharply through his nose, looking down at closed eyes and wet lashes and realizing that Regulus was kissing him. That one hand was fisted into the wet bulk of James shirt while the other was grasping his hand so tight it hurt.
There was a moment where James was confused. Where his knowledge of past and present weren’t aligning. Was it the concussion? His mind playing trick on him or a sadistic dream meant to tear at his last remaining strand of sanity.
No. No it couldn’t be. There was no way that this moment was conjured because James had nothing to compare it to. There was no past to drive this fantasy or the plush feel of Regulus lips against his own because in all of the time they had together they had never once kissed.
“Fuck.” James gasped when their mouths parted. Regulus didn’t release his hand, instead pulling James forward as he moved to the side table and scrambled to open the drawer. A small bottle appeared in his hand.
“What’s your safe word.”
“No.”
“Jamie, I won’t do it.” He pushed James back down onto the bed, their hands finally separating as he pulled the ripped old shirt that used to belong to James over his head and tossed it on the floor.
“I don’t tap out.” He insisted as Regulus slid a hand over his own cock. He was so hard, harder than James if that was even possible.
“You did the other night.” Regulus gripped himself at the base. James hadn’t been fucked in so long there was a nervous excitement sizzling along his skin. In the past often wondered how that small lithe man possessed something that drew hellfire out of James. It was good to see that thought was still present.
“Black.” He said, watching Regulus eyes narrow, but nod. He uncapped the bottle and slicked himself up, not breaking eye contact as he nestled between James’ legs like a fucking demon.
“No one but me?” Regulus asked lining himself up, a testing pressure that had James already tensing his muscles.
“Never.”
“Not once?” Regulus stopped and slid one arm under James knee, pushing his leg back and opening him up.
“No.” He said honestly as Regulus slid himself, slick, against James hole again and again. Teasing, tempting. He never did this before, James had always been quick to beg, knees on the floor from a simple glance.
“Why?” He stopped again and looked down at James. The backlight of soft yellow light streaming in from the window lit Regulus like a fallen angel.
“Because no one is allowed to fuck me but you.”
“And no one ever will.” Regulus pressed in and James felt himself fall apart. Felt the one thing he had deprived himself of for five fucking years inch into way into him with no stop, no resistance. “Do you want to know why?”
James felt himself choke as Regulus pressed his hips flush against James’ arse and stop. He could feel himself pulsing, twitching around Regulus. He couldn’t speak, words trapped, pinned like butterflies along each cigarette blackened inch within his lungs.
Regulus leaned down, bringing James thigh with him, opening further so he could sink in just a bit deeper, and whispered in James ear.
“Because you’re mine.” Regulus bit into the side of James throat, that space below his jaw as he pulled out and thrust back in. James bowed, his back arching off the bed as he moaned, unhidden, mouth open and eyes rolling.
Regulus set a slow, languid pace that drove James mad. The gentle draw out as he rolled his hips back in, teeth moving and nipping down the column of James throat as he went. As he pressed their bodies as close together as he could, and grabbed at Regulus hips, pulling, urging him to up his pace but he wouldn’t.
He tortured James. Refused to give him what he wanted, not because he couldn’t, not because he was incapable of fucking James into the mattress so thoroughly they would get noise complaints, but because he didn’t want to. He held a power over James, always had, always would, and he was claiming that power.
Claiming James in word and action and all James had ever wanted was to be claimed.
Regulus pulled himself back, sitting on his knees and James couldn’t help but watch the man. Watch as his mouth fell open, eyes glued to the space where he filled James, watched as he tightened his grip around James thigh before leaning forward again on a particularly sharp jerk of his hips.
Watched as his eyes traces up James cock, ignoring the heavy, throbbing appendage with barely a second glance before his other hand pressed into James stomach. He groaned and shifted, pressing his hand up, sliding his palm across the hair on James stomach, tracing his fingers along the edge of each overlapping tattoo and pushing the edge of his shirt up.
“Let me feel it.” He demanded, and for a moment James didn’t know what he meant. His mind was a melted pot a metal and magma but as Regulus slowed his hips and began to pull out James gripped his wrist.
Locking eyes with Regulus he pulled the mans hand up his chest until he felt soft fingertips brush over the peaking round scar. It didn’t hurt, whatever damage had been done that day had destroyed the nerves of his skin, but James still felt it.
Maybe it was his imagination, how he imagined Regulus’ fingers would feel tracing around the wound he took for him with pride.
Regulus’s arm shifted out of James grasp as he pushed the shirt the rest of the way up, showing him the wound…the would that was hidden beneath a large, sprawling tattoo.
“James…” Regulus stopped, fully seated within James this time and it felt like pure torture. He was full, so fucking full that his stomach ached and his body was pulsing. “What the fuck is this?”
His eyes didn’t leave Regulus. Not as the man looked down at him with furrowed brows, not when he spread his fingers wide in an attempt to fit the Lion tattoo within his palm. Not when he dropped James thigh unceremoniously and both of his palms spread out across James’ chest.
“You…When?”
“A few years ago, two or three.” It was the first time he had spoken in what seemed like hours, but it was more like ten minutes. Time was a construct, a binary that didn’t fit within the void they created. His voice cracked, a low tone, broken apart by emotion and the most terrifying thing that existed, reality.
“It’s…” He pressed on the scar. Two fingers directly in the center of the circular puckered skin before spreading out again. Tracing up the leg from the front paw. Spanning over the lion’s mane and continuing up until his fist wrapped around James throat. “You used your bloody wound, as a starting point for my fucking constellation. The wound is my Star?”
He gripped, one hand tightening around James’ throat, pulling in at the sides until he could barely hiss in a breath while the other stayed splayed across his chest, thumb digging into the paw of the lion.
“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” Regulus barely got the words out before his hips jolted. He pulled out so fast that James felt his stomach swoop, he was filled before he could respond. A jolting pain as Regulus hips crashed against James, hard unrelenting. A power he hadn’t realized the man could possess, not with the sleek lines of his body glistening over James. But that look in his eyes as he drove into James over and over again, drawing out groan after groan was intoxicating. He couldn’t look away, not when Regulus looked at him like that.
Not when Regulus pulled his throat forward and James could do nothing press his elbows behind him and lift, meeting the man halfway in a kiss that tasted like destruction. His teeth bit at Regulus, pulled the mans lip into his mouth and bit until he tasted copper. Until he felt the sweep of Regulus tongue in his mouth and the rumbling groan as he felt the ring of James tongue clack against his back teeth.
It was a fight, full bodied and desperate as the two fell into an uneven pace. Regulus pulling James’s leg back up as he drove into him with fervor. James gripped onto the back of Regulus neck and tangled his other hand in the mans hair so he couldn’t pull away. So their lips and tongues would stay within the confides of the other and James was drunk on it.
His head empty and body full and James had never felt like more of a human than he did in this moment. With Regulus fucking into him, whispering and mumbling beneath his breath in a way that James couldn’t make out. In a way that separated their mouths for only enough time to draw in breath.
“Close.” James groaned into Regulus mouth, his cock slipping against Regulus stomach with each brutal thrust. He didn’t want to come, didn’t want it to be over. James slipped his hand down from Regulus neck and went to grip himself to stave of the sensation when Regulus leaned back and snatched his wrist and jerked, pulling his arm up and pinning it above James head.
“Come, It won’t stop me.” He breathed into James, not slowing for a moment and that was all it took. All it took for the white hot pressure to burst through him, to claw out like a demon and blank out his vision to a fuzzy, head throbbing degree. His stomach was slick with come, sliding against Regulus own stomach and creating a sensation so overwhelming that his moans turned into cries turned into begging and pleading and a mumble of words he could feel leave his mouth but couldn’t hear what was said.
All he could hear was the slick sounds of their bodies and the huffing laughter as Regulus gripped the back of James neck with both hands and crashed them back together.
A sound brought him back, opening the eyes he hadn’t realized were closed. The gasp, the sharp intake of breath from above him. The bruising grip of Regulus hands and the stuttering of his hips and James knew he was close. Knew this wasn’t something he wanted to miss.
“Look at me.” He demanded, but his voice was hoarse. A choked sound punched out from the brutality of the thrusts, but he did. Regulus tore his gaze up and locked onto James. His mouth hanging open, teetering on that blessed release but not quite meeting it. But James knew how to get him there, knew exactly what to say to get Regulus past the breaking point. “Good boy.”
The coo was broken, a haphazard hiss that was broken apart by each vowel, but in the end it did him in. James watched Regulus fall apart. His shoulders tensed in, arms gripping James tighter until his head jerked back and a low groan accompanied the warmth pulsing into James.
Regulus eyes were closed, he hovered over James like a spent rain cloud but didn’t move. They breathed into each other, huffing with over exertion until Regulus leaned in, his body melting into the much larger man below him, head nestled into the crook of his throat and arms dead at his sides.
Without thinking, without even considering another option. James wrapped his arms around Regulus’ waist and pulled him higher, shifting them both up. Regulus slid out of him and they both hissed at the suddenness but he kept moving. Twisting their bodies around before falling onto Regulus black silk pillow. He tucked Regulus’s head back into his neck and pulled him up onto his chest, knee nestled between his legs and reveling in the heavy weight holding him down.
His arms stayed around Regulus’s waist as he felt the mans breath begin to even out. Air huffing out of his slightly open mouth onto James throat. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the lights from outside dance along the white pocked space.
There was no urge. No drive for destruction, only the pulsing throb in his abdomen and a heavy lidded droop that felt like more than satisfaction.
It felt like everything.