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Chapter Text

Regulus Black was the spare, second child. He was meant to be unseen, unheard, unloved. And he was, wholly and undeniably unloved by his parents. Walburga and Orion Black had no love for either of their children, but they at least had a reason for Sirius. He was the heir to the Black fortune, the older brother who would carry on their legacy. Even if they deemed him a fuck up.

Which, they did. He was a waste of space. Never quite learned his manners, never quite passed etiquette classes, never really figured out how to stay quiet. And whenever Regulus was seen, or heard, Sirius would be extra loud. Extra visible. Extra Sirius. He’d take the punishments, cruel and brutal, so that his quiet, shy little brother did not. Because he didn’t think Regulus' existence was meaningless, he loved him.

Sirius was the only love Regulus had ever known. He was the rare touch of comfort in the harsh, unforgiving environment that was the Black family home. When Regulus was really little, and he would cry for comfort as children do, it was Sirius who snuck into the room and would hold him. The only hug he knew was the warm embrace of his brother's arms in the darkness. When they got a little older, Sirius would hold tightly to Regulus’s hand, lead him around for their quiet games, because Regulus was prone to getting disoriented and lost in the never ending hallways. 

When Regulus was six, he broke a vase. An expensive one. Walburga was furious to find it, and Regulus was terrified. But then there was Sirius, pushing Regulus behind his back and stating proudly, “I broke your vase, Maman.” He was punished for it, harshly. The lashes he received ripped up his back. Regulus was ashamed, horrified, disturbed. When Sirius sought him out after, in the darkness of Regulus’s room, he was covered in blood and tears. Regulus was too little, could do nothing of use, so he climbed into Sirius's lap and held on while he cried. Regulus leaned in and covered his brother’s face in little kisses, planting a last, chaste little kiss on his lips.

And so became a routine, years where Sirius would take whatever punishment should’ve been Regulus’s to bear, and then he’d seek Regulus out after and Regulus would shower him in sweet, childish affection because short of receiving the punishments himself, which Sirius wouldn’t allow, it was all he could do for his brother. Hold him, and kiss him, and tell him he loved him, even if Regulus didn’t really know what love was, or how to love family. But he loved his brother. Some way. Somehow. He really did.

Sirius even snuck into his bedroom most nights and slept with him. Regulus knew Sirius didn’t like to be alone, and Regulus cherished the attention his brother gave. He’d take anything, as long as Sirius was willing to give it. And it was nice, to not have to be afraid of the things that roam in the dark, because he big brother was right there with him. He wouldn’t let him get eaten, even if Regulus would happily let the monsters swallow him whole if it meant protecting Sirius. 

When Regulus was eleven, things started to change. His parents brought around more visitors, all with little girls who were Sirius’s age in tow. Regulus sat and quietly learned, at these dinners, that it was Sirius’s job to wed and breed one of them. He didn’t really understand what that meant, just that it would take Sirius away from him. It made Regulus sick to his stomach, to think of losing his brother.

It was at one of these match-finding dinners that Regulus got an erection, the first to be prompted and then keenly noticed. It was mortifying. He was sitting next to Sirius, across from an unimpressive cousin with white blonde hair and a pointy nose. She was polite, had a soft smile, couldn’t keep her eyes off of Sirius and Regulus absolutely hated her for it. He was glaring daggers at her from his place next to his brother. His brother, looking to his left, seemed to notice, and with a subtle shift Sirius removed his hand from his lap and placed it lightly on Regulus’s knee. 

Regulus startled, snapping his mouth shut to prevent a gasp. His heart was pounding out of his chest, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his navel. He schooled his expression into one of polite disinterest, and Sirius’ palm squeezed. Squeezed, and Regulus couldn’t help the blood that rushed to his groin, couldn’t prevent the tent in his pants. Swallowing hard, he quietly unfolded his white fabric napkin and lay it down across his lap. His ears were burning, thankful that the tablecloth prevented others around him from seeing his dilemma. 

It didn’t prevent Sirius from seeing, though. As their guests were engaged around them, Regulus saw out of the corner of his eye as his brother glanced down at the bulge in his pants. There was no mistaking it for anything other then what it was. His brother’s eyes lifted to study Regulus’s further reddening face as Sirius slowly drifted his palm up from his brother's knee to mid thigh. His quiet contemplation ended with a brush of fingers on the inseam of his pants as Sirius pulled his hand away, and returned to polite conversation with their guests. 

Regulus was shaking by the time he was dismissed from the table. He spent the next couple hours alone in his room, feeling a tornado of emotions spin in his chest. Embarrassment, anticipation, excitement, dread, guilt. He popped a boner, his first fucking boner, because of his own brother’s hand. It was sick, gross, wrong. It made him feel so ashamed. It also hadn’t gone away since dinner, and Regulus didn’t know what to do about it. 

It was dark by the time Sirius slipped in through his bedroom door. The only source of light in the room was the reading lamp by Regulus’s bed. Regulus himself sat, shirtless in his pyjama bottoms on his bed, one arm behind his head and a book carefully positioned in his lap. He looked up, feigning casualty as he remarked, “So, is she the one, Siri?” 

Sirius cracked a crooked smile, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, Reg. She’s not really my type.” 

Regulus shut his book, setting it aside and sitting up. "Trop blond?" ("Too blond?") he tried to joke.

“She’s also our cousin...” Sirius hedged, his eyes finding Regulus’s in the dark as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. 

The Black’s, as many aristocratic families did, had a long line of inbreeding, but it was frowned upon in society today, had been for many years, so there hadn’t been a closely related match made in a couple of decades. They would know, what with their family tree proudly decorating their parlour room. Still, Regulus wondered if Sirius would really care about that. Wondered why he, himself, was curious if it mattered. 

“Is that a... problem, for you, Sirius?” Regulus asked quietly.

“It probably should be.” There was a long pause after Sirius answered, where Regulus' stomach turned uncomfortably. He knew what was coming, wished he could avoid it.

“Are we going to talk about what happened at dinner?” Sirius’s voice was nothing but a whisper as he leaned towards his brother.

Regulus swallowed. “There’s nothing to discuss.” 

“Is it... is it gone, did you?...” Sirius’ question trailed off, as if he didn’t know how to ask. Regulus stared, because he didn’t know what he was being asked, either. 

“Did I... what?” 

“You know, Reg, did you... take care of it?” Sirius sounded nervous. As nervous as Regulus felt. He didn’t like feeling steps behind his brother, the way he did now. He shook his head, confusion plain on his face. It hadn't gone down, but upon Sirius entering his room it had stirred again. Regulus didn’t want to think of why.

“Oh... you don’t, you’ve never...” 

“Sirius, can you please spit out whatever you’re trying to say in one complete sentence, I’m a bit... lost.” Regulus was annoyed now, covering his lap with an oddly placed arm.

“Icanshowyouhowtotakecareofit,” burst out of Sirius’s mouth. Regulus reared back.

“What... what do you mean?” 

“There’s things you can do, when that happens, to make it go away.” 

“Oh... like... like what?” Regulus shifted, pressing his thighs together. 

Sirius moved to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall. When Regulus followed him down, sitting across from him with his back to the bed, they were fully hidden from the view of the bedroom door. Their legs were spread, ankles touching.

“You can rub... like this...” Sirius rubbed his palm against his crotch and Regulus followed suit, groaning at the pressure. 

“O-oh...” Regulus whinged.

“Or you can, um, you can pull it out and squeeze it. Kind of like when you pee.” Sirius added, but he was still just rubbing his palm against himself. Regulus could picture what Sirius meant, but for some inexplicable reason, he wanted the demonstration anyway. 

“Can you show me?” He asked, voice low and quiet. Shy.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, had his thinking face on and everything before he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down around his hips. Sirius’s erection bounced free and he quickly took hold of it, stroking up and down. “Like this.” 

Regulus did the same, pulling his erection out of his pyjama pants, wrapping his palm around himself and squeezing. He winced a little, but soon found a pressure that he liked. He wondered if it was any different to how Sirius liked it. “H-how hard do you squeeze?” 

Sirius’s free hand found Regulus' ankle, and he squeezed it, sending a shock up Regulus’s leg that went right to his groin. The contact made him whimper and he moved his hand faster.

“You just, think of a pretty girl or something, and do that until you come.” Sirius added, panting a little. His brother leaned back, eyelids droopy as he touched himself. But Regulus couldn’t think of any pretty girls. Found that any image he conjured didn’t give him the same funny butterflies that keeping his eyes open and trained on his brother did. 

“What do you think of, Siri?” Regulus whimpered, not able to hold back the noises from how good it felt to relieve himself. He thought, vaguely, that he should be embarrassed to do this in front of his brother. He wasn’t though, it was just another layer of affection that he so desperately craved.

Sirius’s languid movements on himself stilled, his gaze wandering along Regulus’s body as heavy as a touch. They trailed from the hand still on his ankle, up his legs to Regulus’s hand on himself, then up his chest to his eyes, where Sirius’s seemed to darken. Regulus shivered under his scrutiny. "Je pense à une jolie fille, Reggie..." (“I think of a pretty girl, Reggie...”) Sirius sighed, shutting his eyes and resuming his ministrations once more. Regulus felt inexplicably disappointed as the words left Sirius’s mouth, but something about the way he said them, low and testy, perked his interest. Made him throb. Regulus could always tell when his brother was lying to him. 

Regulus closed his eyes then and thought of soft, shoulder length black hair and long, pale fingers as he stroked himself off to the wet sounds that echoed off of the walls around him. What did him in was the gentle press of nails into his skin as a soft, disgruntled noise was pulled from his brother’s throat when he spilled over his hand. Sirius stayed the night, both boys quietly tucking themselves away, climbing into bed and drifting off to sleep. 

They didn’t talk about it, but Sirius, he didn’t climb into Regulus’s bed as often after that. He still showered him with affection, attention, little kisses, but Sirius pulled away at night. Secluded himself to his room, let Regulus fend for himself against the things in the dark once more. Unless there was a storm, and then Regulus would slink down the hallways to Sirius’s room, climb under his covers and hold fast to his brother, in hopes that Sirius wouldn’t make him leave. He didn’t, and so Regulus would soothe under his brother's careful fingers, stroking his waist, trying not to jump each time the sky boomed. 

They continued like that, affectionate by day, separated by the night for some unspoken reason unless the sky cracked open, until Regulus was fifteen. Rain poured down, pounded against the shutters and Regulus was just about to abandon his bed when his door creaked open, and his brother slipped underneath his covers once more.

Regulus was, for lack of better words, elated that his brother had come back to him. Sirius pressed close behind him, his chest to Regulus’s back, and wrapped a strong arm around Regulus’s waist. Sirius had shot up in recent years, his height overtaking Regulus’s by a good foot. His arms had gained muscle, and Sirius had lost that boyish charm in favour of a developing wildness. He looked rugged, still thin but with an air of danger about him now. Regulus was still waif-like, pale and soft in places where his brother had hardened, but neither looked like children any longer. Regulus felt safe in his brother’s arms, and drifted to sleep more easily than he had in ages. 

Regulus was dreaming of rivers. The soft flow of a stream, round and round in a steady whirlpool. The water was warm at his waist as he sank into it. It pooled at his groin, which twitched under the silky feel of liquid heat as it swirled around him. The touch, smooth as satin, heated his blood, made him arch his hips minutely. 

Soft, panting breaths swallowed him up, releasing him in the arms of his brother, whose lips were ghosting over the back of his neck. Regulus kept his eyes closed, his body loose as he came to consciousness, feeling the slide of Sirius’s warm body between his thighs. Thighs that he squeezed together, ever so slightly. 

“Fuck... fuck...” Sirius chanted in nothing but whispers. His hips undulated slowly against Regulus’s backside, prick rubbing up against Regulus’s perineum, tip pressing against his balls each time that Sirius pushed back in. Slow, so slow. shallow, so shallow. Like Sirius was trying very, very hard not to wake Regulus. Regulus ached. 

Slowly, in a way that could seem as if Regulus was just shifting in his sleep, he slipped his own palm down to lay against his prick and squeeze. Breath ghosted against Regulus’s skin as Sirius whispered, “Fuck... ‘ve missed you... feel so good...” 

When Sirius’s hips stuttered, pressing the head of his dick harder just under his balls, Regulus squeezed himself, and couldn't hold back the whimper. “Siri...” 

Sirius stilled. Froze, for just a couple of seconds before ripping himself away from his brother's backside. “Shit... shit. Shit! I-I’m, I’m so sorry Regulus, Je suis désolé, I couldn’t, I-...” 

Sirius was shuffling back, as if to leave the bed, but Regulus threw himself around and pressed himself against his brother before he got the chance. The movement pressed the boy’s foreheads together. Regulus tightened his arm around his brother, arching his hips to press their bodies closer. His clothed dick pressed against Sirius’s hard one, ripping unbidden moans from them both. 

“Please, please don’t go.” Regulus whined. 

“We shouldn’t... We can’t...” Sirius was arguing, eyes squeezed shut even as his hand came down to grip Regulus’s hip. 

“We should... you should... you're my big brother, you always take my pain away..” Regulus was rambling, desperate to convince Sirius that this was okay. Because Regulus loved him, wanted anything Sirius would give him. “Well it hurts, Siri, please, make it stop hurting.” he begged, canting his hips and rubbing himself harder against Sirius. 

“Fuck...” Sirius groaned. Resolution crumbling, he dragged Regulus closer, rutted against him harder. 

“Just like that, Siri, ah...” Regulus whined. This seemed to sway Sirius, as he started to quickly pull at their clothes until their sleep pants were down around both of their hips. Regulus needed more, but he wasn’t quite sure what more was until Sirius brought his hand up to his mouth and spit, then held it out for Regulus to do the same. Regulus added a wad of his own saliva, and Sirius shoved his hand between them. He took them both into his wet palm, squeezed them together, and Regulus could’ve cried from how good it felt. 

Sirius jerked them both together, slick skin sliding up and down, as they panted into each other's mouths. They didn’t kiss, just shared overly warm breath as they rutted against each other. Regulus was so, so close. “Siri... Siri...” he chanted.

Sirius' free hand found Regulus’s mouth, shoving two fingers between Regulus’s slick lips and gliding against his rough tongue. It held Regulus’s sounds in as he came, hot slick coating Sirius’s hand as he continued to rut, to search for his release. The sensitivity made Regulus shudder, tears forming at his eyes as Sirius’s fingers fought to slide further down Regulus’s throat. It was choking him, and Regulus was swallowing eagerly, as if he could consume him. 

Sirius came with a muffled shout in the pillows. “Reggie!” He shook as cum hit Regulus’s chin and chest. 

As they both came down from the elation, clenched together, sticky and dirty and breathing hard, all Regulus could do was whimper, “I love you, thank you, je t'aime, I love you...” until he fell asleep in his brother's embrace.

*

But maybe Regulus loved too hard. Or not enough. Or in all of the wrong fucking ways. Because Sirius didn’t say it back that night, and he was gone the next morning. Not from the bed, or the room, but from Regulus’s life altogether. The esteemed heir of the Noble House of Black had run away from his family, to only the gods know where, and left behind the spare. The little brother, who only ever wanted his brother to love him.

That’s why almost a decade later, Regulus still couldn’t love anyone properly. He’d spent years seeking satisfaction, taking gratification from his partners, but never would he give affection. Not until one James Potter cartwheeled into his life through the doors of his silly 9 to 5 at Diagon’s Flower Shop and spent a year courting him, flirting with him, trying to woo him. He wasn’t dismayed by Regulus’s sour disposition, or his mean streak, or the ways in which Regulus tried so hard to convince him that he was not capable of a relationship. James only continued to beg for a chance, for Regulus to try, showering him with so many sunny smiles that it was no wonder Regulus felt like Icarus when he agreed to go on a date with him.

No wonder why four months later, outside of James’ apartment and armed with flowers, Regulus felt like he was about to fall from such grace. He was flying too close to the sun, he thought, to things he couldn’t let himself have because all he knew how to do was take. He knew that. Yet, he wasn’t prepared to be shot down from the sky by the very arrow that had stripped his wings of the ability to hold him up that high in the first place.

He was meeting James’s flatmate, and his flatmate’s partner. They were all going to have dinner in the apartment, maybe play some cards, and Regulus was going to be nice because he promised he would be. And really, Regulus was trying very, very hard. Harder than he’d ever tried, in a relationship before, not that you could call any of the one night stands or fuck-buddies he’d had previously “relationships”. So, he promised, and he’d keep it. Regulus knocked on the door, and James answered with that bubbly smile and a quick kiss on his lips. 

Regulus was smiling too, a slightly less rare occasion these days, in James’s presence. “Hello to you too,” he laughed.

“You came! Come in, come in, Padfoot and Moony should be home shortly. Moony lives across town, so Pads took his bike to go get him.” James rambled, gesturing for Regulus to come in. He’d been to James’s apartment a number of times before, but never when his flatmate was home. It was a cosy place, all warm, earthy hues and comfortable brown furniture. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t show?” Regulus asked incredulously.

James shrugged. “I was a little worried you’d get cold feet about meeting my friends, yeah.” 

But I’m here... Regulus thought. He followed James into the kitchen. “Where should I, uh, put these?” he asked, holding up the roses he’d brought.

“You brought me flowers?” James asked, glancing down as if he’d been so busy looking at Regulus that he hadn’t even seen the flowers he’d been holding.

“Y-yeah, that’s what, um, boyfriends do, right?” Regulus eyebrows were furrowed in concern. Had he overstepped? Under stepped? Maybe he should’ve brought wine too, or, something. 

“Oh Reggie, baby, you’re just too sweet.” James gently took the flowers, laying them on the kitchen bench before backing Regulus up against the wall by the fridge. James’s lips were on his neck then, kissing down to that sweet spot at the crook of his neck. His fingers were deftly undoing Regulus’s fly.

“J-Jamie, mm, what’re you doing?”

“Like I said, you’re sweet, want to taste you.” 

“You said... Pads and Moony... they’ll be home any minute!” Regulus whimpered, alarmed. 

James sank to his knees, hand dipping into Regulus’s underwear and pulling out his prick, which was already hard. “You’ll just have to come quick then, won't you?” James shot him a cheeky smile before swallowing him down. Oh, that feels good. Regulus thrust his hips as the warm, wet heat enveloped him. Regulus twisted his fingers into James’s soft brown curls, because he was a selfish man who took and took, and oh, James had a sinful, giving mouth.

James had just finished swallowing down his load when the front door opened, heavy pairs of footsteps trudging in. “Chérie, we’re hommmmme!” called a playful lilt that sent a shiver down Regulus’s spine.

“Fuck, James, get up!” Regulus was scrambling to pull James up from the floor. “You’re flatmate’s french?” he whispered harshly. 

James stood, a chuckle in his voice when he called back, “We’re in the kitchen, Pads!” Then to Regulus, he added, “Yeah, I guess I just collect french people, huh?” With a smile and a nod towards Regulus’s groin.

Regulus flushed, taking too long of a second to watch as James wiped spit and stray cum from his lips before pulling up his pants in a rush. He was just doing up his fly when those footsteps came closer. A gasp made Regulus redden further at being caught in such a lewd state, in this stranger’s kitchen no less. He was supposed to be making a good impression! Damn James and his irresistible mouth. But when Regulus looked up, at the face of the man who entered the kitchen, he realised with mounting dread the real reason for the gasp.

In front of him stood a tall frame, pale arms covered in tattoos, shirt partially unbuttoned revealing sharp collarbones, black, wavy hair that cascaded around the man’s face where it fell from the messy bun atop his head. Gray eyes wide, frozen on Regulus’s face, pretty pink mouth agape. 

Regulus wanted to die. Right there, in that spot, in James’s kitchen. “S-sirius?”

“Reggie.” His name, deadpanned out of shock on his estranged brother’s tongue, set his heart on fire in his chest. His whole body was frozen while he was drowned in emotions he’d set out to bury, burn, forget. He couldn’t swim, never learned. He could only stand and choke on that imagined water in utter silence. 

James’s voice was like a blow dryer, being turned on inside a library. “You two, uh, know each other? Great! Great, actually, yeah that’s cool, Padfoot, this is my boyfriend, Regulus.” He was chipper, like he couldn’t read the dread circulating between the two men. It once again went silent. 

Regulus could see there was a man, taller than Sirius even, standing beside his brother. He could vaguely make out their hands, locked together by their sides. It made Regulus’s stomach twist and he was suddenly brought back to so many dinners, to little girls fawning over Sirius, who was his. Except he wasn’t his, anymore. Regulus had taken too much, and Sirius had run away from him.

Much like he was starting to do now. “I-I’ll go.” It was a whisper as it left his brother’s mouth.

“No!” It came like a shout from Regulus, making him flinch. All three men gaped at his outburst. “N-no, don’t, don’t be stupid. This is... it’s your apartment. Your apartment, that you share with my boyfriend... fuck. I’ll go, I’m going.” He stumbled as he went to push past his brother and leave the kitchen. The apartment. The area. Maybe the world. 

Sirius caught him with his free hand, wrapping it around Regulus’s upper arm as he tried to move away. Regulus startled, and turned back to look at his brother. Up, at his brother, who’d gotten very tall in his time away. Tall, and fuck, hot. He could be on the cover of a magazine. Regulus recalled James saying he owned a motorcycle, and it all fit so well in his mind's eye. 

Sirius leaned in. Whether it was to say something, or just to study him, Regulus wasn’t sure, because he was suddenly all too aware of the way their sides were brushing, their faces too close. Regulus was hit with that familiar, selfish thing inside him that meant to claim. Want. 

He ripped his arm away from his brother with a gasp, rushing to the door. James followed after him, pushing past Sirius and the other man and following Regulus out into the hall. “Reg! Reg wait! What’s going on?!” 

Regulus turned around, facing James and his open door. Sirius had followed behind James, his mouth set in a stern line. Regulus’s eyes blurred with tears as he looked between his brother and his boyfriend, the first boyfriend he’d had, really. 

“You... You’re an amazing man, James Potter. But I... I can’t see you anymore. I’m sorry.” He looked back to Sirius, "Je suis vraiment désolé." ("I’m so sorry.”) And then he was gone, racing down the flights of stairs and out of the building to his car, locking himself inside and starting to choke on sobs as he drove away. Away from James, away from the apartment, away from the brother he’d lost but still so badly wanted. 

Regulus hid himself away in his own apartment for a couple days. It was a coping mechanism he knew well. Lock the door, shut the blinds, pretend to be a ghost in your own home, stifle your sobs and wait out the ache.

Unfortunately, the ache didn’t dull, but real life called his name and said “Hey, you’re an adult with responsibilities, come back to me” so against his better judgement, Regulus found himself back at work on a Monday morning. He was in the back, pruning dead ends off of the flowers to be used for custom bouquets this week when Mary called to him from the front. He poked his head out, a scowl of annoyance firmly in place. “I’m not on counter duty today, what’s up?” 

Mary brushed past him with a scoff. “Lover boy has been here to see you every day since Friday, I’m gonna need you to either go make up, or tell him to buy some flowers or get lost. Thanks!” Lover boy, aka James, was standing at the counter, eyes firmly on the door Regulus was already peeking out of. With a sigh, Regulus wiped his dirty hands on his apron and went out to the counter.

“Why are you here, James?” Regulus kept his tone indifferent.

“I thought that, maybe, we should talk.” James shuffled his feet, a sad look on his face.

“I said what I needed to, I can’t see you anymore, it is what it is. Was fun while it lasted and all that. Now, please leave.” Regulus waved his hand towards the door. 

“Look, you owe me a better explanation than that. I didn’t even know Sirius had a brother, and he said-”

“Go talk to Sirius about it then! It’s not my fault that he kept that from you. And I... Well, I haven’t had a brother since I was fifteen. So.” Regulus looked down at his hands, folded on the counter to hide his shaking.

“No he, he won’t talk to me about it! I don’t know what happened between you two, but, I don’t want to lose you over it Reg. It’s your past, not mine.” The thing was, and Regulus had told James this time and time again, that he was a selfish man. And all it had taken was a second glance at Sirius, standing there in all his glory, looking well and happily in a relationship and clearly moved on from their past to know that Regulus was also a weak man. That his feelings weren’t in the past. That if he stayed with James, he would end up around Sirius because Sirius and James are best friends. Have been best friends, for pretty much the entire time that Sirius had been gone as it turns out. And if Regulus, weak as he was, ended up around Sirius, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from this incessant wanting. And if Regulus wanted Sirius, selfish as he was, he would strive to have him.

Which was disgusting, and wrong, and pathetic. Sirius wasn’t even available to have! Especially not by Regulus. This was the entire reason he’d lost him in the first place, always wanting and claiming things that weren’t for him. But Regulus’s heart had and would always scream that Sirius was his, and it would happen. And the last, very last thing on this earth that Regulus would ever want to do is to take another thing from his brother. If Regulus stayed with James, he couldn’t be around Sirius. Which meant James couldn’t. And Regulus would be taking Sirius’s best friend away from him. He couldn’t do that. Couldn’t do any of it. 

Regulus shook his head. “I know this doesn’t feel fair. But, it’s the fairest thing I can do, given the circumstances. You need to leave. Go home, to Sirius. Pick Sirius. He deserves it, Jamie.” His voice broke at the end, cloudiness in his vision, heart hurting. I would pick him in a heartbeat, if I could.

Regulus saw the anguished look on James face. Saw him open his mouth to argue. Ignored him, turned and went back to the quiet of his plants in the back, crying silent tears for the rest of his shift. 

It was the worst feeling in the world, to be alone. In all the years he’d been on his own, he’d never let himself feel alone long. He contented himself with packed bars, a wild assortment of partners, friends who came and went but never stuck because Regulus couldn’t give them anything. But he’d never quite felt alone like he did for the first few years that Sirius was gone, when he was stuck at home with his parents. He’d figured out how to stifle the feeling and had been doing that ever since. He’d put that lifestyle on pause, for a while, because he’d had James. Had wanted to have James. Had wanted to deserve him. 

Now, he’d sent James away, he’d had a glimpse at the beautiful man who’d left him lonely to begin with, and he felt like the small child he’d been before. Alone in the dark of the night. He couldn’t stand it. So when his shift was over and the sun was setting, Regulus walked to the closest gay bar to his house, bought himself a drink and decided he wouldn’t go home alone. 

He would pick some good looking guy, take him home and fuck the loneliness away. It only took an hour before a warm smile with a built body and shock blonde hair approached him, new drink in hand. He was a skier. Or a mountain climber. Or something to do with tall places and white snow. Regulus wasn’t sure, after a few drinks, what exactly the man did. Or his name. But he smelled nice and his hands were rough against Regulus’s skin and his mouth was eagerly chasing away the thoughts of the men he’d lost. 

When Regulus asked if the man wanted to take this back to his place, he eagerly agreed. It was only two blocks away, but it was raining. Regulus thought it was almost a little romantic, the way they ran, stopped, kissed, ran some more, and repeated. The man didn't even complain when Regulus admitted to leading them astray once or twice, because he was terrible with directions while sober, let alone after a drink. But he was being too soft for Regulus. He wanted mean, harsh, hit-me-harder-daddy cruelty. They were two houses down from Regulus’s apartment when Regulus grabbed the guy's belt. It was a thick, black leather strap with a heavy metal clasp. Regulus tugged harshly, crashing their centres together.

“Think you could hit me with this, big boy?” He cooed, leaning up on his toes to bite the guy's bottom lip. He was a little drunk, a little upset, and he wanted to punish himself. He knew this, and it made his toes curl. 

The blonde bombshell in front of him didn’t get to reply though, because they were interrupted by an indignant “What. The. Fuck. Reg.” 

Regulus lowered himself back to his heels. He sighed, thickly, into the blonde’s shirt. “You got a problem, Frenchy?” 

“Yeah. You. Regulus, get over here.” 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Sirius,” Regulus muttered, turning to meet his brother’s furious stare with a raised chin. 

Sirius’s fists were balled at his sides. Oh, how his brother was quick to anger. And in front of him now, he was furious. He was soaking wet, like he’d been waiting in the rain for the same number of hours that Regulus had been at the bar. “That is exactly what I get to do right now, Reg. You’re drunk. Send this fucker home, now.” 

"You think he's the first guy I've fucked while fucked up? Where were you for all the others, huh?" 

The anguish on Sirius's face was plain as day. Regulus ignored it, even as Sirius justified, "I'm here right now." 

"Why?" Regulus demanded.

"Renvoie-le à la maison, Reg." ("Send him home, Reg.") Sirius pleaded, low and commanding.

And maybe it was the tone of Sirius’s voice. The command in it. Or maybe it was the very real possibility of a fist fight breaking out if Regulus didn’t listen. Or maybe, Regulus just wanted one, stupid moment alone with his brother. To say his peace, apologise, and be done. Regulus turned, and in the most bored tone he could muster said, “Get lost, yeah?” 

“Are you serious?” The blonde guy scoffed.

“No, I am,” Sirius, from behind him, answered. And it wasn’t funny. It really, really wasn’t funny. Regulus wasn’t having to bite his lip to keep from smiling. He absolutely was not remembering how funny his brother was. His timing. The blonde guy flipped the bird and turned back towards the bar from which they came. 

Regulus sighed again, turned and tried to casually stroll past his brother with a mutter. “I’m not drunk.”

Sirius whipped around and caught Regulus’s arm again, just like he had in the kitchen of his apartment days ago. He leaned down, right into Regulus’s space. “We need to talk.” Regulus absently noted that his breath smelled like peppermint.

“Like hell we do,” Regulus tried to pull his arm away. Sirius didn’t let him. 

“Eh bien, je fais. (Well, I do.) I have things to say, and you’re going to stand here and fucking listen, okay?”

 Regulus rolled his eyes, balling his fists. “Fine. Talk, then.” 

“I’m moving out,” Sirius blurted. The words didn’t quite compute in Regulus’s brain. What he was saying, or why. Until he continued. “I’m moving my things to Moony’s this weekend and, and James’s flat will be empty of me. I get it, you’re pushing him away because he’s friends with the man who assaulted you, but he didn’t know any of it, I promise you, and-”

“Wait...  What? ” Regulus spat.

Sirius reared back. After a confused pause he said, “W-what?” 

“What did you just say?!” Regulus' voice climbed high, mind reeling. He couldn’t have heard what he just heard. 

“That... That I’m moving? James, he’s a good guy, the best guy, you can have him Reggie, you deserve him.” Sirius’s words were emphatic, almost verbatim what Regulus had said to James earlier, when he was convincing James to pick Sirius over him. But Regulus’s mind was still stuck on those five stupid words that didn’t make any sense. The man who assaulted you.

“You didn’t... you didn’t rape me, Sirius?!” Regulus blurted, and it was loud. It echoed through the rain and off of the thankfully empty streets.

Sirius gasped. His brows pulled together. His mouth hung open before he finally found just a few words, “What I did to you... Reg...” 

“Was. Not. Rape.” Regulus spat the word at their feet. Tears pricked in his eyes. That Sirius could think that any of what they did made Regulus feel anything other than loved, cared for, given to, was offensive. Hurtful. Mean. That he could think it was anything other than Regulus crossing a line, Regulus taking something that wasn’t his, taking advantage, was ridiculous.

Sirius dropped Regulus’s arm like it burned him. Like he only just realised he was still touching him. Regulus mourned the contact. “I knew what I was doing. You... you were asleep. You were a child, I was the older brother, more aware of the situation, and I... I took advantage of you.” 

“You... you weren’t taking advantage of me! I... I...” Regulus couldn’t speak fast enough to keep up with his rapidly swirling thoughts.

“You were a child.” Sirius stood his ground, staring down at their feet. He wouldn’t meet Regulus’s eyes. It infuriated Regulus. “What I did was disgusting. And I’ll have to live with that.” 

That one word. That Sirius would call what they had, that word. Disgusting. Even though Regulus had thought it enough about himself, his own feelings in the past, he would never think it of Sirius. Sirius was only ever beautiful, giving, entirely pure. Toujours Pur. That he would dare think that low of himself, it broke Regulus’s heart. It broke Regulus. “I loved you!” He shouted.

“I-I know, and I, Reg, I-” Sirius stuttered.

Regulus grabbed a fistful of Sirius’s wet shirt, used all of his body weight to spin them around, to throw Sirius against his car which was parked on the curb. He pressed himself right up against his brother, tip toes high in order to reach Sirius’s face and practically growled. “No, I loved you. Loved you so fucking much. I wanted what we did. If I was a child, you were a fucking child too! You tried to stop me, and I begged for it anyway. Used my pain, knew it would get you to keep going. I manipulated you because I am selfish and weak and disgusting and I wanted you!” 

Sirius was stunned into silence. He was stock still, arms draped at his sides. It was all Regulus could do not to scream as he continued. “I wanted to kiss you. Open, wet mouthed! I wanted to touch you. All over, everywhere. Cela ressemble-t-il à quelque chose qu'un enfant veut? (Does that sound like something a child wants?) A brother?! I took every ounce of brotherly love you gave me and I twisted it and ate it up and convinced myself that you wanted me to too because I loved you! I love you, even now! What happened, you leaving me, it was all my fault, I took too much. I took a lot. I took... I took...” Regulus couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t take in air. Was so sick of himself for taking, that he wanted to give it all up. Wanted to give up breathing, and feeling, and living. 

He was shaking. Tears streamed down his face, mingled with the rain steadily falling around them. And Sirius...  Sirius was crying too. His hands, all graceful long fingers and pretty silver rings came up to cup Regulus's face. He leaned in, slow, all the while Regulus tried to catch his breath. His brain hadn’t stopped screaming for ten years about how he was sick, and twisted, and vile and wrong until this moment, when Sirius pressed his lips to Regulus’s own. 

How could anything so soft, so sweet, full of so much love, be wrong? Sirius kissed him, and at first it was chaste, like when they were children. But Regulus gasped at the contact, opening his mouth to him, and suddenly Sirius was diving in head first like a man starved. Their tongues danced together and it was wet, salty, violent, and so, so kind. Regulus’s hands, still fisted in Sirius’s shirt, cemented their hold, determined not to let his brother go from this embrace. 

It was like someone shined a flashlight into the darkness that hung around Regulus. For so long he had only drowned in blackness, a never ending night. It was a midnight, noiseless, empty cavern that Regulus had been lost in since childhood. But suddenly, it was like Regulus found the sky again and there was that north star, the brightest one. First one in the sky, every single night. First one Regulus had ever seen, and he’d lost sight of it for ages, it had stopped rising for him and now here it was guiding him back to safety once more. 

Sirius groaned, hands slipping back into Regulus’s hair and tugging, sending pleasure right where Regulus liked it best. He canted his hips up towards Sirius’s and then suddenly he was being pushed backwards. Long strides backwards, that would’ve tripped him up had Sirius not had a steady hold on him. He even went backwards up the three steps to his apartment before Sirius released his hair to grab his shoulders and spin him around to face the red door. 

“Open the door, Reg.” Sirius demanded. And fuck, Regulus would do anything he was asked to, if Sirius used that voice to ask it. He fumbled with the key, overly aware of Sirius’s hands still on his shoulders. When he got it open he was pushed through, spun again, pressed up against it as it slammed shut behind him. 

“Sirius-” Regulus tried to say. He was going to beg. He was going to beg for more, for Sirius to not stop, just like he did that night. He didn’t have to, though. Sirius was pressed up against him before he could get the words out, resealing their lips. Sirius’s hands roamed down, down to Regulus’s hips and then his knees where Sirius bent them and scooped him up. His firm thighs pressed between Regulus’s own soft ones, pressing their groins together as he used his weight to hold Regulus against the door and bruise his lips. 

Sirius rutted against Regulus, pressed and rubbed and ground down until both men panted and whined. It was a frenzied inhibition, a collapse of manners and politeness, a reunion of something chaotic and lovely that had been denied fuel like dead coals but was erupting between them like bonfire flames, “Siri, Siri, fuck, I’ll come, I’m gonna, I-” He pulled his lips away from Sirius’s to whine. He could feel Sirius’s grin against his neck as he bit down on Regulus’s sensitive skin and picked up the pace, really thrusting. Regulus couldn’t take it. Ten years of want, and need, and ache catching up with him as his brother, who he’d longed for, cried for, missed so keenly, pressed himself up against him and didn’t leave an inch of space to separate them. Regulus came in his pants with a cry, fingers digging into Sirius’s soft locks. 

Sirius didn’t stop the movement of his hips, finding his own release to the symphony of wanton whines that the sensitivity strummed from Regulus’s vocal chords. Both sticky and soaking and dirty, they calmed without a moment’s part from each other. 

They stood there, Sirius’s face buried in Regulus’s neck, fingers stroking his thighs where he continued to hold Regulus like he weighed nothing. There were long moments of something still tense lingering between them before Regulus made to slide his thighs down. His feet touched the ground. Sirius’s palms found the door, head still hanging down. He was taller than Regulus, but dipped down like this he could nose at Regulus’s ear. Regulus’s hands smoothed in their hold against Sirius’s chest, still keeping firm pressure over Sirius’s heart which beat in time with his own pounding blood. 

“I have spent... my entire life, wanting you, Regulus. You took nothing that I didn’t willingly give to you,” Sirius choked out, interrupting their silence.

Regulus heaved another small sob. “I was yours to have.” 

Sirius lifted his head and cupped Regulus’s cheek softly, eyes soft and sad as they roamed his face. “No, petite étoile (little star), you were not.”

Regulus closed his eyes and let the sadness swallow him whole. Let it infest his bones and cut into his skin and bleed him dry. He felt it as Sirius pressed their foreheads together and swallowed his breath. Took one of his own and gave it over to Regulus, warming cold lungs.

“Can I stay?” Sirius whispered.

"S'il te plaît," (“Please,”) Regulus whispered back.

The brothers took turns in Regulus’s tiny shower, and when it was his turn, Regulus allowed himself to sit and cry for all of five minutes under the warm spray. He felt a bone deep ache, a dread of loss even though Sirius was in his bedroom, staying the night. But he had a wary feeling they were going to talk and as much as Regulus knew what he wanted, he also knew now that Sirius didn’t really plan to give it to him, and it hurt. 

When he finally towelled himself off and put on pyjama pants and an old, plain shirt, he came into the room to find Sirius sitting on the edge of his bed, typing away on his phone. He leaned against the door, arms crossed and took in the sight of his brother in a different set of Regulus sleep clothes, stare unabashedly. 

Sirius looked up, smiled softly and tossed his phone aside, leaning back on his palms. “Just letting Moony know where I am.” 

And oh, god. Regulus had forgotten all about him. About Sirius’s relationship. His brother was in a relationship and they’d just... “Oh god,” Regulus groaned, “You... you have a boyfriend! And I... well, I don’t anymore, but still, James... Oh my god.” Because how could he be so stupid as to forget that the man who’d just rutted against him like an animal was fucking taken ?

“He wont mind, Reggie.” Sirius waved off his concern with a nonchalant tone. 

“What?” Regulus’s eyes snapped open at the insinuation. “You’re not... you’re not going to tell him about this are you?!” Panic licked at his lungs. 

Sirius beckoned him closer, and Regulus was nothing but a puppet on strings as he came forward and sunk down onto Sirius’s lap, straddling him lightly. Sirius pulled him down harder, letting his weight settle him there.

“He knows... about us, in the past," Sirius admitted sheepishly.

“He... What?” Regulus couldn’t think. Bile was rising fast up the column of his throat, threatening to spew.

Sirius settled in as if to tell a long story. “I’ve been with Moony almost as long as I’ve known him. He came into my life when I was low, so low, and brought me in and grounded me when I was a balloon whose string had been cut.” Sirius wrapped an arm around Regulus’s waste, and his free hand traced soft, soothing lines down the side of his neck. Regulus was going to be sick.      

“When things between him and I first started-”

“I do not want to hear this, Sirius,” Regulus managed to choke out. He was sure he was green. 

“You need to. For context.” Regulus could only nod uneasily.

“When things started, I couldn’t... be emotionally intimate. When I realised I was falling in love with him, I was horrified. Here I was doing it again, loving something too fucking good for me and I was going to ruin it. I tried to... I didn’t want to be alive anymore.”

Regulus bit his knuckle. He resisted the urge to interrupt his brother, to proclaim how fucking worthy Sirius was of love, all encompassing love. He needed a trash can, now. He wasn’t sure who he hated more in this moment, himself or Moony.

“He found me. Saved my life. Told me he loved me, demanded to know why I couldn’t love him back and I had no choice but to explain to him exactly why I didn’t deserve him.”

And it was so unfair. How could he hate someone who had saved his brother’s life? He couldn’t.

“He... disagreed, with my view point. He told me to shove my self-deprecating stance up my arse, said that-” Sirius stopped with an abrupt chuckle. “He said it didn’t sound like I was giving you much credit or autonomy in my story.”

“You didn’t, he was right.” Regulus reluctantly agreed. “But none of that means that he’ll be okay with... with what happened, tonight.” 

“We’ve made allowances, in the past.” Sirius brushed a stray lock of hair of out of Regulus’s wide eyes.

“What?!” 

“For James, actually. Several times.” And there was that sweet saccharine smile that Sirius did so well. 

“You... and James and Moony-”

“Remus, his name is Remus.” 

“You and Remus have slept with James. My James?” 

“Your James, hmm?” Sirius eyebrow raised and Regulus blanked. He really hadn’t meant to claim James like that, but it slipped out nonetheless. “Yes. We have.” 

“Recently?” 

Sirius seemed to know what he was asking. “Not in the last six months. Definitely not in the last four.” 

“Oh... okay. Good. That’s good.” Regulus could take some solace in the fact that James hadn’t been cheating on him. “Maybe, then-” Regulus started, about to propose the most wild idea on the planet, but Sirius stopped him. 

“Regulus I... I think we should take this opportunity, as adults, to try and... and love each other the right way. As brothers.” 

Regulus’s shoulders deflated. He dropped his chin and nodded in quiet agreement. “You’ll stay with me tonight, though?” He whispered. Didn’t want to risk his voice cracking. 

“Yeah... Yeah little star, just for tonight.” 

So Regulus soaked up the warmth from Sirius’s arms as they cuddled in bed, relished the safety he brought from the dark again, listened to his breath so close to his face and only stole a few more kisses. Sweet, soft ones, and then a couple dirtier ones, tongue and teeth and desperation, just for tonight. 

In the morning, after they laid together and let the sun rise outside as stars burned inside, a mess of twisted sheets, heavy breath, sticky thighs and closed curtains to pretend they had longer than they really did, Regulus had to let his lover go. Had to let his brother dress in tacky dried clothes, give him a brief, platonic hug and leave his apartment with a promise that they’d have that dinner that Regulus had run out on. Had to wave goodbye, close the door and make a call, because he had a boyfriend to make up with.

James was eager to see Regulus. That’s how Regulus ended up in his flat, empty of Sirius thank god. They were shut away in James’s room, and it took James all of two sentences before he had forgiven Regulus for all of it, but Regulus needed him to hear it all. Hear everything, and then decide on forgiveness. And, okay, Regulus hadn’t really abandoned his selfishness. He needed James to forgive him, which is why he ended up on his knees and worshipping a slack jawed James’s prick, a thing he had told him upfront he would never, ever do. Because he had been truthful with him about being a selfish lover, and James had insisted he was a giver anyway, so it didn’t matter. But it mattered. Giving this, to James, while he poured his heart out and begged for a forgiveness that was already given, mattered. Trying, mattered. He’d promised to try.

They were onto round two after James declared he needed some time to think about things. And, oh, James took his time. Worked Regulus open with slow, lazy fingers. Held him down at the waist and brought him to the edge again and again, each time declaring, “I’m not done thinking yet, baby,” and complimenting his whines and whimpers, “Such pretty sounds you make for me.” Regulus made the most filthy, whorish noise of his life when James draped himself right over him, lips at his ear to coo, “Do you make them for your brother, as well?” 

James smiled, wide and wicked at the way Regulus’s cheeks went red and his grip on the comforter tightened. He took no pity on poor, defenceless, wrung out Regulus, the motion of his fingers stopping and forcing his impending orgasm to ebb away again.

“James. Jamie. Please. Please!” Regulus cried. He tried to reach for his leaking prick but James caught his hand.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Flip over for me baby.” 

James’s fingers left him and he eagerly complied, ass in the air like a bitch in heat. James was back to toying with his rim with wet fingers, letting Regulus’s cock dangle without friction. Slick dripped from his tip onto soft blue sheets. He was going to come untouched if James didn’t give him something more. Perhaps this was payback for the first four months where Regulus would only take. Now he would get nothing. Be taken from, instead.

But then, sweet mercy, when he felt James tease his entrance with the head of his wet dick. “More, please, more, more, more.” Regulus chanted, trying to arch himself into, trying gain friction.

James stilled him with hands on his hips. “You look just like your brother from this angle, baby.” 

Regulus groaned.

“Slimmer arse. Smaller dick.” James flicked his dick. Flicked it from behind, knuckles nudging his balls. James was trying to kill him. All Regulus could do was whine. Whine, cry, picture how his brother would look arse up. 

James’s strong hand finds purchase in Regulus’s short hair and tugs harshly as he finally, finally, spears him on his dick. Balls deep in one go, making Regulus scream at the sudden intrusion. James uses his hair to pull him upright and back against his chest. Mean teeth bite and lick at Regulus’s ear. “You’re definitely a prettier lay, though.” 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” Regulus has tears streaming down his face. He finally gets a hand on his dick and the pressure, the fullness of James inside of him is the sweetest relief. But James isn’t moving yet. Regulus needs him to move.

“I know what you need, baby. Gonna hurt you now. Hurt you so bad, really fuck you up. That okay?” James’s hand tugs on his hair for a response.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” Regulus can only gasp. James means it, when he says he’s going to hurt him. The man wouldn’t hurt a fly, is nice and sweet and kind and good to a fault. So good that he knows exactly what Regulus needs at this moment. Regulus needs to feel like James has found rectification in his ruination, so that he can accept his forgiveness. Needs to be tortured to the point of blackout and resurrected on the figurative cross of James’s dick. Needs it to feel holy. 

James gives it to him one sharp, mean, angry thrust at a time. One lewd comment about his brother after another. How warm his brother's mouth is. How he gets similarly whiny when his orgasms are denied. How hot Sirius looks with spit on his face. Does Regulus want spit on his face? James turns his head sharply and spits on him. It hits his cheek, his nose, runs down into his panting mouth. 

Regulus begs to come. Begs. James slaps his dick, says no. It stings, it aches, Regulus is floating high and falling fast, blind spots at the corners of his eyes. All he can feel and see and hear is James. All he can picture is Sirius. All can do is cry and hold on and let himself be fucking beaten by James’s cock. There’s a door opened, he thinks. Maybe one to another world, one that lets the other side through. Do spirits make footsteps sounds when they walk? It’s a spiritual experience. It’s a death and a birth all at once as James abandons his hair for his throat, squeezes just right to leave marks. “I want you to scream his name when you come, baby. Can you do that? Do it. Do it now.” 

And Regulus does. Screams bloody loud, his brother’s name rolling off of his tongue as he sees white stars, feels them burn up his skin. James is coming then as well, filling him up. That same starry white liquid heat burning him up inside too. All he can do is chant, “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.” Prayers of the sacrificed to a forgiving god. He doesn’t feel James stop. Can’t feel his arms or his legs. All he sees is the light of the sun and then the dark of the night as he passes out. 

Ruination, death, resurrection, Regulus blinks blurry eyes open to soft yellow overhead lighting. Feels a warm washcloth being dragged over his sensitive skin. Lifts his head weakly to find James Potter watching him intently, all soft smiles and ruffled curls. Throws his head back down onto the pillow and moans, his dick twitching again.

“I’m so far gone for you,” he whispers, hopes James doesn’t hear him. But he does. He climbs leisurely up to the headboard and pulls Regulus’s dead weight into his lap, stroking soft fingers along the ragged scars on Regulus’s back. Regulus nuzzles into his neck silently. 

They both say nothing for a long while before James says, “But you want your brother, too.” He’s all too sure in his statement. No hint of jealousy, or disgust, it’s void of anything other than it’s factual correctness. Like the answer to a math problem. Like Regulus is slap-on-the-forehead stupid.

“I want you both,” Regulus says breathlessly, “I’m so selfish.” He's still seeing colours and lights. Dizzy and dazed. 

James chuckles. It’s a lighthearted sound that rings sweetly in Regulus’s ear. “You, sweet thing, are entirely selfish. A selfish little creature who, I think, deserves everything he’s ever desired, spoon fed to him off of silver plates the same colour as Sirius’s eyes.”

It’s poetry that James whispers in his ear. It’s gospel and sermons and if Regulus could move his body independently he would kneel. 

“And I am, admittedly, a possessive man. It’s the curse of an only child to not be taught how to share.” 

Regulus’s heart drops, but he’s stuck in this hazy, floating place where he registers the physical sensation of lead in his stomach but can’t really feel it. 

“Except that I would give my body, my soul, my life to people whom I love. And I love Sirius. I love Remus, too. They’re my family. It’s fucked up, but they’re mine. Have been from the moment we found each other. And Regulus, I venture to say that I could very well love you too, if you would let me.”

Regulus knows, then. Lets it settle deep in his heart, this realisation that he too could love this man, be loved by him if he could let himself. Could he let himself?

“You can have both, Regulus,” James whispers in his ear. “Do you want both? Do you want your brother, too?”

Regulus has his answer, now. That he could. He can. He closes his eyes, breathes deeply, feels the pace of his heart race with anxiety. Understands that he is, in fact, falling very deeply in love with James Potter, who just offered up the sun and the stars and maybe even the moon to him in a declaration of “could love, will love, let me love you”. He is brilliant, blinding sunlight and who could deny the sun their love when it warms their face so perfectly?

"Oui," (“Yes,”) He breathes out. It’s a declaration of his faith. 

James nuzzles his ear, trails sweet kisses along his cheek to his numb lips. “Then let me give him to you. Let me give you to him. Let me make our little family complete, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Yes, Jamie.” Regulus thinks maybe he’s dreaming. Can’t stomach the idea that he could wake up. 

“Good boy. So good for me.” Praise and adoration fall from James’s lips in a steady stream. It’s a baptism. 

Regulus’s sleep is interrupted a while later by James lifting him, sitting him upright, putting one of his soft white button ups over his head and leaving a few of the top buttons undone, dragging it gently to show a collarbone. He’s slipping his panties onto him too. They’re girls' panties. Soft cotton and bubblegum pink. He wore them specifically because James likes him like that. Feminine, pretty, slutty. 

“What’re we doing?” Regulus asks, muddled with confusion about what he could possibly need clothes for. He’s not fit for anything other then sleep after what they’ve just finished doing, and James knows this well, so surely he can do that naked?

“Patience, baby.” James is grinning. He scoops Regulus up off the bed bridal style and trots out to the living area. Voices drift into Regulus’s in-and-out consciousness.

His brother's, for sure, a little bit of horror, or maybe wonder in his voice when he gasps, “James! What the hell have you done to him?”

James sets Regulus on his feet, back to front, earning a little whine from Regulus. His legs are shaky, practically spread wide and cock arched out as he leans back into James for stability. “Shhhhhh, don’ be so loud, jus’ roughed up a little s’all.” Regulus is slurring now with the extra effort to keep himself righted. His eyes are closed, heavy lids made of sand.

James’s warm palm slides underneath the button up, another wrapped around his thin waist. “He’s okay Sirius,” he says, tracing wet little kisses along Regulus’s tipped neck, “Just in that sweet, post orgasm head space.” James flicks a sensitive nipple and Regulus whimpers. His face is red, he can feel the heat in his cheeks. That same heat rushes to his prick, eager for more. Excited by the exhibitionism. 

“What’re you playing at, James?” Sirius grumbles.

“I don’t know what you mean?” James sing-songs, continuing his ministrations.

Regulus can only half open his eyes, but he gets a fairly clear view of a tall man, thick with muscle but lanky all the same, sitting next to a frustrated Sirius. Cropped short hair, soft looking scars that Regulus follows with his eyes along the uncovered spaces of his body. He gets the urge to lick them. Hopes he didn’t say that aloud. Thinks he did when the man chuckles. Thinks that man (Remus?) has a very attractive laugh. Hopes he kept that in, too. 

“He’s so pretty like this, isn’t he?” James fucking purrs. 

Remus gives an “Mmm” of agreement. His eyes are contemplative and Regulus sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, hoping he likes what he sees. Remus stands, walks closer, trails rough fingers against Regulus’s cheek. Regulus leans into the contact.

“I was going to make tea,” James adds. Feels like he’s fishing.

Remus gives him a smirk, nodding in agreement. “I’ll join you.” 

“Think you can walk, pretty thing?” James asks Regulus. The question sinks in, gets contemplated. He absolutely can’t. But he nods. James laughs like he knows he’s lying.

Remus steps aside and James moves his hands to Regulus’s shoulders. “Catch, Sirius,” he says, playful edge to his tone. 

James shoves Regulus very gently forward, and thanks to the momentum he gets a couple of shaky steps to the couch before very ungracefully landing in his brother’s lap. 

Sirius’s arms circle him with an “Oof”. Then, both James and Remus are laughing as they head towards the kitchen. Regulus is planted in his brother’s lap in nothing but a thin shirt and girl's panties, he’s got an erection and is firmly stuck in subspace. Oh James, his James, is so fucking sly. Regulus takes advantage, nuzzles in against Sirius’s chest with a huff and then looks up and bats his eyelashes, flashes his best dopey smile. He must look like a mess. “Hi, Siri.”

Sirius sighs. “Hi, Reggie. You and James made up, then?” A hand finds his hair, petting him gently. Like a cat.

“Mm. Yeah. Think we did.” Regulus is swimming in the soft, minty scent surrounding him. He nuzzles more, nose to chest above shirt lines. 

“You think?” He can hear his brother’s smirk. 

“Do I look forgiven?” Regulus murmurs, lips finding sweet skin. 

“Reggie...” Sirius warns.

“Siri...” Regulus whines. He didn’t mean for it to be a whine, but he feels so needy right now. He needs, and he’s here in Sirius’s arms because his boyfriend fucked him up real good and put him here for safe keeping and gave him permission to want. To have.

Sirius’s free hand comes up to drag his shirt collar to the side. Exposing more skin. “You look... thoroughly debauched, little star. All marked up.”

“You want to leave more?” Regulus is flirting, playful and eager to please like this. Sirius groans. He’s tempted, Regulus can feel it. But then he shifts, lifts Regulus off his lap and plants him sideways along the couch where Remus was previously sitting. 

Regulus pouts. He stretches his feet and uses his heel to feel Sirius’s growing hard on. Sirius bats as his foot, admonishes him with a “stop that”, but he doesn’t really force him away or anything. Doesn’t say no. 

Regulus lays his head back against the couch, eyeing his brother. He’s really quite beautiful, Sirius. James’s descriptions of his brother in the throes of passion paint slutty pictures in his head. Where Regulus knows himself as soft, delicate, Sirius is carved, harsh looking but with these sweet, mischievous lips that turn up at the corners. A sand dune and the winds that whip them, Regulus thinks of himself and his brother. His lazy palm presses against the aching in his groin.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Sirius mutters, glancing away. Doesn’t sound like he means it.

“Like what?” He moans, slips his hand under the waistband of his underwear and strokes himself. It hurts a little. Regulus likes it like that. Little bit of sting.

“I heard you.” Sirius turns his head to stare at Regulus’s moving hand. He’s going to come in thirty seconds flat. Instead of it being harder to come, oversensitivity always sends him into a fit of overly easy orgasms.

“Heard what?” Regulus gasps, voice cracking.

“You screamed my name, when you were in there... with James.” Sirius’s voice wavers half way through. He hasn’t stopped watching as Regulus jacks himself off to his own brother’s voice. Talk me through it, Siri. 

Regulus’s hips stutter. His cock pulses. “So it wasn’t ghosts.”

“What?” It comes from Sirius’s lips briefly, confused. He’s too focused on the slip and slide of Regulus’s hand to care much, though. 

“You wanna hear it again?” Regulus whines. Sirius says nothing. His hands are gripping Regulus’s ankles, sending him back in time, and Regulus is relishing in the pressure.

“Sirius... uh, ah, ah, Siri, fuck, Siri! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” Regulus grunts as he comes, spilling over his fingers. It’s not much, but it’s enough slick to make it look like he’s wet his panties.

Regulus doesn’t know what comes over him. It’s like he’s possessed. He sees the way his brother stares and sinks his teeth into his lip and it has Regulus removing his sticky fingers, sitting up and crawling over to Sirius and wiping them against those same delicious fucking lips and teeth. It should be gross, disgusting, vile. Sirius should be sick. 

Maybe he is. As sick as Regulus. Because he looks Regulus dead in the eyes and licks the come off of his lips. Swallows the taste of Regulus’s pleasure and fucking moans like he’s been fed a gourmet meal. It makes Regulus’s heart flutter. Regulus, thoroughly sated now, is out of energy and delirious on peppermint and sweat scents in the air. He lays his head on Sirius’s lap, face pressed up against the hard on tenting his brother’s pants. His last thought before he falls asleep is that he wouldn’t mind waking up to that erection being fed down his throat. 

*

What he wakes up to, sometime later, is infinitely sweeter than choking. It’s rough hands pushing and pulling at the muscles of his legs, working out sore knots from his calves and nails dragging along the inseam of his feet. It’s blissful. His head is still cushioned in his brother’s lap, and Regulus hears James’s voice from the recliner across from them, which leaves the soothing hands to belong to Remus.

“...And for heaven’s sake Moony, stop touching him!” Sirius is balking as Regulus tunes into the conversation going on around him.

“You’re touching him too,” Remus pointed out, and Regulus realised there were indeed long fingers curled in his hair as well. 

“That’s... that’s different!”

“Mm, yes,” Remus murmured his agreement, “You’ve done far more with your brother than I can say I have. You touching him is far more indecent.” His tone was teasing, a hint of Welsh undertones colouring his accent. 

“You... you stop that right now, Moons.” Sirius was pouting, pouting, oh my god that was so cute. 

Regulus chose now to intervene, lest the best massage of his life cease. “Disregard my brother, Remus,” He grumbled against Sirius’s thigh, “Do continue, your fingers are heavenly.”

Sirius gasped, a frustrated sort of snort, tugging at his hair. Regulus made an “Uh!” sound, to which James laughed. 

“Est-ce que les mains de ton amant se sentent aussi bien ailleurs, Sirius?” (“Do your lover’s hands feel as good elsewhere, Sirius?”) Regulus teased. 

“Fermez-la. Arrêtez ça tout de suite.” (“Shut up. Stop that right now.”) Sirius groused. 

“Je prends ça pour un oui.” (“I’ll take that as a yes.”)

“Je vais te tuer.” (“I’ll kill you.”) Sirius threatened, and it made Regulus laugh. 

 “Fais-moi l'amour à la place.” (“Make love to me instead.”) Regulus only half joked.

“Non.” Sirius answered, and Regulus looked up to see his brother glance warily at Remus.

Regulus batted his eyelashes, feigning innocence as he teased , “Peut-être que Remus me fera l'amour, alors?” (“Maybe Remus will make love to me, then?”)

"Stop it! Stop that right now!" Sirius finally cried, at his limit with the teasing and turning red. Regulus wanted nothing more than to continue, to really rile him up, but-...

“Good morning, sweetheart,” James called to him then, interrupting their banter.

Regulus turned his head, neck a little stiff, so that he faced him. He gave his boyfriend a smug little smile, “Mm, there you are, traitor. How dare you abandon me to this wolf for some tea.” 

James chuckled, “You don’t look any worse for wear, Reggie dear.”

“No, s’pose I don’t, do I?” Regulus cooed in satisfaction.

“Good nap?”

“The best.”

“Brilliant, because we’re going out tonight.” This was no surprise to Regulus, who found himself calling rather often on a Wednesday morning, because James loved to flaunt his rich kid status by ruining him on weeknights.

Still, it drew a gasp from his brother. “Out? Out where?” The grip on Regulus’s hair tightened minutely.

“To the clubs, Sirius. Care to join us?” James grinned.

“We shouldn’t-...” Sirius started, but Remus cut him off.

“We’d love to.”

At Sirius’s groan of indignation Remus added, “We haven’t been out in ages Sirius, and isn’t reconciling with your brother a good enough reason to be celebrating?”

“I guess...” Sirius pouted once more. Regulus pinched his thigh, earning a slap against the head, and then he was being hauled upright and dumped into Sirius’s empty seat as Sirius trudged towards the hallway with grumbles about a shower.

James stood too, explaining that he would order takeout before they left, and then he was gone from the room too, leaving just Remus and Regulus behind.

The two men studied each other, Remus with a curious expression and Regulus a tad wary. Now that the haze of pleasure had worn off, he’d found himself in an awkward position, currently lusting after this handsome man’s best friend and his boyfriend, who happened to be Regulus’s own brother.

Maybe even lusting after Remus himself. He was quite fit. The lines were all muddled and confusing, red flags waving at either end that Regulus was choosing to staunchly ignore. 

Regulus held out his hand, ever the polite French man. “It’s good to, uh, meet you properly, Remus.”

Remus took his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. They shook and Remus nodded in agreement, “Le plaisir est pour moi,” (“The pleasure is mine”) Remus said in perfect fucking french and oh, okay, fuck, that made Regulus’s cheeks colour because he’d probably understood every word he and Sirius had exchanged in their first language just then.

“I must apologise for the upheaval my appearance must’ve caused in your life as of late. And for keeping my brother away from home, last night.” Regulus glanced down, unsure of how much he should say or how much Sirius might have already shared. 

"Think nothing of it, Regulus. I have no problem sharing." 

Regulus looked up and saw that Remus’s eyes had a mischievous glint to them. The look was almost unnervingly Sirius. 

Regulus nodded, “Right, yes, still, it was unplanned, and very rude of me to not have insisted he come home to you.”

“Not at all. I hear you had a lot to catch up on and some to... make up for. Does it feel better to have the air cleared between you?” Regulus could sink and soak in the low, smooth tone of Remus’s voice. 

“I’m not entirely sure the air is cleared, if I’m honest. We seem to have come away on different pages.” Regulus said a tad sullenly.

Remus shook his head, hands placed on his thighs as he pushed himself up and stood, looking down at Regulus to say confidently, “I’d wager you’re simply a couple of pages ahead of him already. I wouldn’t worry, though. You’re brother’s a fast reader... He’ll catch up with the rest of us soon enough.” 

With a crooked smile and a nod, Remus followed after Sirius to the showers, leaving Regulus alone on the couch to wonder if he’d just garnered the only other approval he’d needed to commit to this little family idea of James’s.

Chapter Text

“You... you didn’t! You didn’t, James!” Regulus gasps through incredulous laughter. 

Seated next to his boyfriend, across from Sirius and Remus in a booth under precariously flashing club lights, they’d all had a few drinks when Regulus had asked how their friendships came about. As it turns out, it was an unnaturally funny story. Or maybe Regulus was just tipsy. 

“In my defence, the sign says “Animal Rescue” not “DOG Rescue”,” James huffs, arms crossed but with an amused look on his face. 

“Yeah but, a deer! You hit a deer with your car! And then you put it in your car? And took it to a... to a...” 

“A dog shelter,” Sirius finishes for Regulus, grinning. 

“Un refuge pour chiens! (A dog shelter!) Oh my god, that’s so...” Regulus doubles over with laughter, holding his stomach through the shake of it. He’d maybe had more to drink then he thought, if the uncontrollable giggles were anything to go by. 

“Endearing? Heartwarming? A reflection of my loving personality?” James hedges for a compliment, goofy grin now plastered on his face.

“Ridiculous!” Regulus cries out, slapping his hand over his mouth to stifle the yell of it. 

James huffs again, taking another sip of his drink. It's purple and bubbly, and it smells like vodka. James saw him eyeing it and held it out for Regulus to try, which Regulus accepted shyly, eyeing him over the glass as he took a swig and promptly chokes. “Oh my god! That’s so sweet!” 

“It’s grape,” James shrugs. 

“Blegh...” Regulus wipes at his mouth. “Okay, okay, so Sirius came outside and found you with a dead deer in your arms?” 

“It wasn’t dead!” James reasons, offended.

“Dying, then,” Regulus fixes, flatly. 

“Definitely dying,” Sirius butts in to confirm.

“Okay, he came outside and found you with a dying deer. How does Remus fit into this?” Regulus gestures across to the quiet man, who gives him a small smile. 

Sirius leans into his boyfriend, head on his shoulder and smiling up at him. It was a sweet sight, one that made Regulus' heart warm, but achy. It was like a cavity, the way you press it and find sweet relief, only to let it go and be rewarded with a new wave of sharp pain.

“Our Moony was moonlighting as a security guard at the time, he was on night shift as well,” Sirius supplies.

“Hence the nickname.” Regulus nods his understanding.

“And going through veterinary school at the time. So when he heard Sirius freaking out about emergency vets, he came running out to assist,” James adds.

“That's how we first started talking,” Sirius nuzzles Remus, and Remus hugs him closer with an arm around his shoulders and a fond smile. 

“Only took you months of being on night shifts together for you to speak full sentences to me,” Remus chides, eyebrow raised.

“Can you blame me? You were all tall and rugged, with your cropped hair and the scars and the uniform. You looked very straight, very ex-military or something.” 

“He’s got a point, Moony. You’re kind’ve scary.” James laughs.

“Sirius. You ride a motorcycle and have tattoos practically everywhere.” Remus deadpans, sceptical.

Sirius flushes. “Yeah, and the second I open my mouth it’s clear that I’m so very, flamboyantly un homosexuel (a gay man).”

“Oh. He’s got a point too!” Regulus points at Sirius as he flashes James a playful smile. 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaning in. “Yes, and what happened the second you opened your “flamboyantly gay” mouth? Hmm?” 

Sirius, if possible, blushes even harder. “Yeah, okay, you’ve made your point,” he mutters. 

“No he hasn’t! What happened?” Regulus kicks at Sirius’s leg, but Sirius won’t meet his gaze, too caught up in Remus. 

James leans in, lips to Regulus’s ear to whisper, “Remus talked him into blowjobs against the wall the second I left.” 

Regulus’s mouth drops open as he turns to stare at James for a sign he was joking. He doesn’t find one. “Oh,” he gasps.

“Yeah,” James chuckles, gaze dropping down to Regulus’s lips.

“Good for him,” Regulus mutters. It was only a smidgen indignant. He couldn’t sit and sulk in memories that excluded him when James was giving him a look like that. 

“Want to dance with me, Reggie?” James tips his head towards the crowded floor of moving bodies. 

Regulus nods eagerly, downing the rest of his drink while James takes his hand and pulls him to a stand. 

“Where are you off to?” Sirius asks, both pairs suddenly acknowledging each other once more. 

“To dance,” James grins.

“Regulus wouldn’t-” Sirius starts, but Regulus only ignores him with the shake of his head. Regulus had, in fact, hated their stuffy dance classes when they were children, but he excelled at them all the same. There was no joy in the careful consideration of your body's movement to music that could hardly be called that. This though, dancing with James between sweaty people to music that pumped and bounced around them, was an entirely different experience. It wasn’t the prim and proper movement of limbs, not too close or too far. It wasn’t the careful counting of steps. It was waves of feeling and moving to how you felt. For James, with James, who smiles like the sun and pulls him through the thrum of bodies with strong hands, Regulus would move his body anyway his boyfriend wants. 

James had a habit of bringing out the wilder, more easygoing sides of Regulus that he often smothered, or pretended didn’t exist in there. He tore down Regulus' staunch resolve brick by brick until Regulus was bare, as if he hadn’t spent his entire life building up this house of stone to protect himself. Regulus still hadn’t decided if he hated him or loved him for it, but he did secretly enjoy it. 

And who would pass up a chance to be plastered against such a fit body, writhing together in time with a steady, pulsing beat? It thrummed in Regulus’s ears as he wrapped his arms around James’s shoulders and swayed with him. 

James’s hands came to rest at his hips, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “Having a good time?” he asks, mouth close, to be above the noise.

Regulus nods, “I am. Are you?” 

James tugs him closer, fingers splayed under his shirt. “Yeah, It’s interesting to see you and Sirius interact together. I can’t believe I didn’t spot the resemblance before.” 

“Maybe you did,” Regulus says playfully, “Maybe that’s why you were into me in the first place. The available embodiment of your best friend?” 

James laughs throatily, “He was more than available Reggie, he told you as much. No, it wasn’t that.” 

“What was it then?” Regulus asks, almost too quietly against the skin at James’s neck as he presses his lips there. He feels James chuckle against him. 

“Your temper. So misplaced, so mean, the way you directed it at me before I’d even opened my mouth.” 

“Ignoring the red flags, were we, Jamie?” Regulus blushes, grinding their cores together on the downbeat. 

James’s hand finds its way into Regulus’s hair and tugs playfully, making him tip his chin up towards the grinning man. “What can I say? I like the challenge.” 

James and Regulus dance, and sway, and not an inch of skin between them parts as they do. Regulus closes his eyes, losing himself in the enthusiastic movements. He is bumped and brushed by others and he lets himself be touched by strangers, grounded by the arms securely around him. He is lost to anything but James and the movements they share.

After songs and songs, shot breaks with little breathers before they are at it again, Regulus finds himself damp with sweat and semi hard in the tight fabric of his black jeans. 

“We’re being watched,” James leans down to whisper into Regulus’s ear with a nod behind them. 

“By who?” Regulus’s eyebrows draw together, confusion etched on his face. 

James shakes his head with a small smile as he twirls Regulus around and pulls him back against his chest. He captures his thin wrists in his hands and draws them up around his neck. Regulus is practically hung there, all stretched tall, lower stomach on display and low lidded as his gaze catches on Remus with Sirius in a similar position to Regulus’s own against James. They are indeed being watched.

His brother and his boyfriend are of a much closer height though, Sirius’s head sinking easily back into Remus’s shoulder. Remus has his face dipped into Sirius’s neck, tongue visible past soft lips on his pale skin. Sirius has his head tipped to the side, hair pulled over his other shoulder. His hands are up in Remus’s hair, tousling it, but his eyes, his eyes are firmly stuck on that exposed spot of skin at Regulus’s waistband. 

Regulus arches his back further as James guides their bodies into a grind, pushing out his centre. Sirius’s gaze roams up, and it feels like a soft trail of fingers on Regulus’s body as it does. His eyes trace the harsh, thin lines of his chest up to his exposed neck, along the stretch of his arms back around James. 

His lips part in a gasp when his eyes find Regulus’s own lidded ones, watching intently. Remus’s mouth sinks deeper, and Regulus can tell from the way Sirius’s eyes roll that he’s found that intimate spot with his teeth. Regulus wants to find it too. Wants to spread their spit in shared layers around that delicate skin. 

James’s hands release his wrists and roam, strong fingers dragging down Regulus’s sides. Regulus tips his chin up and moans as those same fingers find their way under the front of his shirt and up the smooth planes of his torso. When they find his nipples they turn, and pinch, and Regulus is so painfully hard now. 

Remus lifts his head and follows his boyfriend's gaze to Regulus and James. His lips tip up in a smirk at their show. Regulus keens under the appreciative look he's given. When he winks, aimed right at James above Regulus’s shoulder, Regulus’s self control snaps like a rubber band pulled taut.  

Under their watchful eyes, he turns his head and stands on the tips of his toes to reach James’s lips. He pulls him down by the nape of his neck and kisses him hard. 

“Bathroom,” James gasps between teeth and tongue. Regulus pulls away, movements jerky with need as he tugs his boyfriend forward.

They pass by Remus and Sirius, the latter who looks with a desperate curiosity while the former watches with a knowing gaze. James must’ve nodded, because Remus does too, silent agreement of something Regulus doesn't catch as they move on.   

The bathroom is lit with low red lighting, three small stalls, no urinals. The bench tops are a sleek black marble, and the walls are the same, hard and cold against Regulus’s sweaty back as James presses him there and makes quick work of his zipper. 

His lips are plastered to every inch of the open skin at Regulus’s neck, tasting there. Regulus, despite his lust, is still and tense underneath the man’s ministrations. 

“James, James the stalls...” he pants. 

“Shhh...” James shushes him. 

“Anyone could walk in,” he mumbles harshly, hands twisting in James’s hair and tugging. 

“Mm, that’s the point...” James grins against his skin, pulling him out of his pants with greedy hands. 

“At least lock the door! Mon Dieu! (My god!)” He breathes out through clenched teeth. But before James could deny him once more, the door opens as if on cue. Remus let himself in, tugging a reluctant looking Sirius in after him. 

His eyes find them against the wall instantly, a smug smile on his face as Sirius grumbled, “I told you so. Moony, lets-,” 

“Hush, darling.” Remus interrupts as the door shuts behind them, Sirius leaning back against it. 

James doesn't even pause at the interruption. He drops to his knees in front of Regulus, much like he had in the kitchen that day. His hands tug teasingly at Regulus’s length, making him gasp. “Jamie...” 

“Plaire, (Please,) lets just go-,” Sirius tries again but Remus is having none of it. 

He turns to Sirius with a stern look. “What did I just say, Sirius?” 

Sirius’s eyes go wide before he looks down and stutters, “To hush.” 

Remus pats a hand against his cheek. Regulus has never seen his older brother, wild and untamed, so... subdued. And yet Sirius looks practically ready to kneel if Remus only told him to do so. 

“Good. That’s good, can you listen, please?” 

“Mhm...”

Regulus whimpers, stock still against the wall despite the careful ministrations on his cock. He peels his eyes away from the couple at the door to look down at James. He's so hot on his knees, dark skin tinted a warm magenta under the lighting, hair curly and covering half his eyes as he looks up at Regulus. 

It was a question. “Can I continue?” His eyes were pleading. 

Regulus swallows hard, looking up again. 

Remus catches his eye and smirks. “I think your brother’s a little tense, Sirius. Can I help him let go, hmm? Would that be okay with you?” 

Sirius looks between his boyfriend and his brother. “Reggie?” 

Regulus nods, bottom lip bitten as he does. Yes, yes, yes, he thinks. 

Sirius nods with him, saying to Remus, “Yeah. Yeah it’s okay with me.” 

Remus leans in and kisses Sirius softly, a show of affection before his voice drops an octave and loses all niceties. “Hands on the handle baby, don’t let anyone else in, do you understand?” 

“Yes sir...” Sirius whispers. It echoes around the room, the tone repeating in Regulus’s ears and making him weak in the knees. Sirius’s hands go to the handle behind his back and he holds on, leaning back as he watches Remus walk over to Regulus.

The tall man leans into Regulus’s space, watchful eyes on him as he does. When Regulus doesn't protest, he presses that same, affectionate little kiss that Sirius had just gotten to Regulus’s own lips. When he pulls away, he brushes his thumb against Regulus’s bitten bottom lip, spreading the spit along his cheek as he palms his way around Regulus’s face.

He pulls Regulus forward, making James shuffle back on the floor before sliding in behind him and pulling Regulus back into him. He's released only momentarily before warm hands slide down his own arms, finding his wrists and untangling his fingers from James’s hair.

He lets go obediently, letting Remus pull his arms behind his back between them and restrain him there. “Relax, Regulus, darling,” Remus breaths into his ear. 

Regulus sags, falling back into Remus’s chest at the same time that James’s wet mouth engulfs his prick in heat. 

“Uhngf...” Regulus gasps out. There was no fight left in his body with Remus sturdy and warm behind him, and Sirius dutifully guarding the door. 

Remus smells like cedar and salt, like forest trees on a salty beach, an odd combination of some kind of cologne and sweat from dancing that makes Regulus’s mouth water. 

His pulse pounds in his ears as James’s tongue glides along his shaft and around his head teasingly. He hadn’t even realised he’d closed his eyes until teeth sinking into the lobe of his ear had them snapping open, focusing hazily on the tent at the front of his brother’s pants. 

“Reggie please... S'il te plait, (Please,) stop looking at me like that.” Sirius begs from across the small bathroom. Regulus doesn’t stop, though, he looks his fill while he imagines Sirius joining James on his knees.

Regulus’s hips jerk forward and James gags below him. He sinks deeper still, pressing his nose into the wiry hair at the base of his cock.

“Fuck,” Regulus gasps. Sirius whines. 

Regulus can feel that knowing grin against the base of his neck while Remus works over his sensitive skin. When he bites down on his pulse point, Regulus almost comes on the spot. Teeth there send a shock of pleasure directly to his dick. 

“Mm, just as sensitive as your brother,” Remus murmurs to Regulus before saying louder, “Sirius, baby, do you want to touch yourself?”

“Non,” Sirius denies, even as he presses his thighs together and squirms where he stands.

“You’re lying. That’s a nasty habit, isn’t it? Try again. The truth, dear,” Remus laughs, though clearly not amused. Pleasure is building along the columns of Regulus’s spine, threatening to spill over. He looks down at his boyfriend, dutiful and giving before him. 

What a gorgeous sight, the way his pink lips spread around Regulus’s dick. 

“Non, no,” Sirius tries again. 

James looks up to Regulus, eyes glassy with tears. Regulus moans encouragingly. “Fuck. I’m almost there, Jamie.” 

Regulus hadn’t noticed that one of Remus’s hands had let go of his wrists until it twists into his hair and tugs his head up and to the side. Remus holds his head at an unforgiving angle, stealing his gaze from James. 

“Look at your brother, Regulus. Does it look like he’s telling the truth?” Remus growls.

Regulus takes in Sirius’s dishevelled appearance. The antsy way in which he can’t keep still. His ankles crossed, hands pulling on the handle behind him. “No,” he moans.

“He wants you,” Remus states smoothly.

“No...” Sirius whines at the same time Regulus gasps, “Yes!” 

“I’m gonna... gonna come,” Regulus cries out, hips twitching hard against his restrained position, “S'il vous plaît puis-je venir?” (“Can I please come?”)

The way that Remus chuckles behind him rattles the bones in Regulus' body like jello. He is dizzy under the red lighting, watching Sirius watch him, watch James, as James sucks him off and it's all too much, it's all so-...

“James, stop,” Remus demands suddenly, and in an instant all pleasure ceases. James pulls his mouth off with a pop, licking his lips as he looks up, pausing ever so patiently. 

“Uhhhh!” Regulus cries, eyes slamming shut as his orgasm fades away and leaves him throbbing. 

Remus tugs again on his hair. “Does that hurt? Are you hurting?” 

“Yes. Yes, please...” Regulus gasps. He tries to press his thighs together, to stifle the ache there but James’s hands keep them apart.

“Oh, oh, please, Remus...” 

“Regulus, you’re doing so well. Sirius, do you see how good your brother is?”

Sirius, bending at the knees, groans and nods.

“I wonder where he gets that from? Couldn’t be you, you’re not exactly leading by example when you stand there and lie to my face, are you?” Remus reprimands, and the sound of it, oh, it’s so fucking hot. Regulus is in tears.

Regulus watches as Sirius bites down on his lip, wide eyes frantically bouncing between the three men. “I...”

“James, do you think our patient boy here deserves a reward?” 

James nods eagerly at Remus, an evil smirk on his face when he says, “He’s especially sensitive on the inside, Moony.”

“Is he? Are you, darling?” Remus’s hand is already releasing Regulus’s wrists. He slides his palm down the smooth skin of his back and under the waistband of his pants to find his damp hole and press there.

Regulus jerks forward with a gasp, hands flying out and then digging into the front of his shirt, twisting to hold himself still. “Oh, my god. Oh my god.”

“God would go easier on you.” Remus smirks into another harsh kiss on Regulus’s neck as he pushes two fingers in.

It stings, the burn of it digging deep and clawing at his insides. His cock bounces where it hangs, hard and heavy in front of James’s face. 

“Go ahead and give your sweet mouth back to him, James,” Remus instructs, and James obliges eagerly. It’s a delicious heat that soothes the burn and numbs Regulus all the way down to his toes. 

Remus doesn’t move his fingers. Doesn’t thrust or rub, he just keeps them there, holds Regulus open while James works him up again. 

Sirius is sweating, red faced and desperate against the door. “Remus, can I...”

“Can you what, baby? Are you hard, watching your brother take pleasure from us?” Remus taunts back at his boyfriend. Regulus doesn’t miss the subtle way in which Remus refers to him in the same way he so often claims to be. Taking. 

Except, the way Remus says it doesn’t make Regulus feel selfish. He has no control and yet he is still the ungenerous receiver. It’s by their will. Their desire. They are giving as much as he is taking, and Remus is level headed enough to make sure he doesn’t take too much. 

Looking at Sirius, edge of insanity as he seems to be, Regulus wonders if he is actually giving something. Something he didn’t know he had to give, but Remus sees it and is directing it appropriately, making use of whatever it is Regulus deemed unwanted, unneeded, unusable. 

He is a barrier between the brothers, keeping Sirius safely on the other side so that Regulus cannot take from him because he doesn’t have his consent, and yet, there is a gentle push. The closing of walls, using the sight of Regulus in the throes of pleasure to squeeze something out of Sirius. To ask for something to be given.

Something like a revelation, or an admittance. Regulus is being given like temptation to lure Sirius into sin.

Regulus hopes it fucking works. 

Remus is hard against Regulus’s lower back. He is hot and stable and Regulus can’t help but melt against him as he directs James’s mouth and coaxes Sirius to sink into the pool of arousal too. To join them. 

Regulus thighs tremble. He shakes with the force of an impending orgasm, tell tale moans spilling from his mouth. Just before the peak, the crest, the cliff that Regulus is desperate to fall over, Remus’s fingers leave him, and another cease and desist is leaving the older man's lips and stealing James’s mouth from him.

“Fuck! Non! No no no, please, please!” Regulus shouts, head thrashing from side to side as his entire body riots at the loss of sensation. 

Both of Remus’s hands, wet fingers and all come to hold Regulus’s head still, pointed right at his brother. Sirius stares at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. 

“Look at him, Sirius. I’m not going to let him come until you admit you want him.” 

Regulus was actually crying now. Heavy tears dripped down his cheeks, running down his chin because his lust-addled brain was certain that Remus would be holding his orgasm prisoner forever if that was what he was waiting on. Sirius had been very clear, hadn’t he? They were to be proper brothers now. 

Proper brothers didn’t want each other. They didn’t watch each other get off. They didn’t swap spit or slick. 

“James! Jamie! Do something!” Regulus sobbed, struggling ineffectually against Remus’s hold. 

He felt James nuzzle his thigh, forehead hot with sticky sweat. “Sorry baby,” Regulus heard him mumble. 

“Ugggh!” Regulus cried, hips thrusting into the air, into nothingness. He could barely see the outline of Sirius through the haze of tears in his eyes.

“Don’t beg James, darling, beg your brother.” Remus said, voice crackly with barely restrained anticipation. Regulus could hear the small quirk that was no doubt lifting the corner of his lips. 

“Sirius please! Please, Siri, please...” Regulus managed to choke out cautiously. Sirius said nothing. 

“What do you need from your brother, Regulus?” Remus asked. 

“I need to come. I need, I need... Siri, I need you to want me. Please want me!” Regulus sobbed, begged, pleaded. 

Again, he was met with silence. Regulus couldn’t take the trembling in his body, couldn’t bare the build anymore. Felt like he was going to explode. Remus rewarded him with fingers slipping back inside his stretched hole. 

“M-mentez si vous devez... (L-lie if you have to...)” Regulus mutters, gutted by his brother’s lack of empathy for the choke hold pleasure was having on him. Okay, so he doesn’t actually want him, but he can lie for him, can’t he? Just once, between the four of them, where it won't matter past the flow of ecstasy? 

A smack to his face, harsh and sudden, punishes him for the lack of confidence.

“Do. Not. Encourage your brother to lie, little black. Very naughty,” Remus scolds, sounding angry. 

Regulus can only choke on a groan as Remus finds that sensitive place inside him and rubs again. James follows the silent cue and replaces his mouth.

“Remus...” Sirius groans. Regulus watches as a hand slips free of the door handle to rub the bulge in his pants, “Stop this, please...”

“Oh baby, I can’t do that. But you can. Say the words.” Regulus wonders briefly if there’s a dual meaning there. If they have words, like James and him do, words that would put an end to this torture if only Regulus (or Sirius) would say them. He wonders if this is fair to Sirius, if they don’t.

But Regulus is desperate and so far gone that things like fair and decent are lost to him. All he knows is ache and hurt and please, please, please put a stop to this because I won’t, I won’t, I need to hear you say it. 

Words that Regulus uttered at peak selfishness come back to haunt them in the thickly accented growl that falls from Remus’s lips. They are a sword handed over hilt first, clearly from Sirius’s grasp because Regulus has never re-uttered them, certainly not to Remus. And yet Remus knows them, uses them as a weapon driven into the soft flesh of its owner’s stomach.

“He’s hurting, Sirius, and you’re his big brother, aren’t you supposed to take his pain away? Make it stop? Don’t you want to?”

That, that is the breaking point. Unfair use of a weakness previously bared causes the pressure to crest inside of Sirius, making him burst like a popped balloon. 

“Yes!” He yells. It’s gruff with frustration, face screwed up in agony. “Yes, okay? I want it to stop, I want him! I want him so fucking bad that I’m going to come in pants from just watching this, him! Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy?!” 

James’s mouth hums around Regulus. There’s too much sensation, the press of Remus’s fingers, the suckle of James’s mouth, his brother’s voice screaming around him.

“S'il vous plaît, puis-je venir? S'il te plaît? S'il vous plaît, puis-je venir?” (“Can I please come? Please? Please can I come?”) Regulus babbles in hardly intelligible French because he can't take it anymore, he will absolutely die if he's denied.

But Remus takes pity on him, hits that spot inside of him harder, pushing his hips, forcing his cock down James’s throat as far as it can go and Regulus does come. Comes, and comes, spills for so long down James’s throat that the only coherent thought to break through the bright white lights that steal his vision is that he wonders if a person can drown from a blowjob.

James pulls his mouth away with a gasp, spit dripping down his chin. His mouth is gleaming pink, same as his cheeks below teary eyes. Regulus has never felt his heart swell the way it does when he sees James like this.

Remus’s fingers slide out and fix his waistband before Regulus drops to his knees and catches James’s lips in an all-consuming kiss.

Everything but the taste of himself in his boyfriend’s mouth is lost to him until the bathroom door handle rattles, and Sirius clears his throat to say, “Just a second!”

“Come on man, you’ve been in there for ages! I need to piss!” Calls the annoyed man’s voice from behind the door.

Just like that, the spell is broken. The lust fogged moments passed. They are a flurry, the four men, righting themselves and washing up. James has a smug smile on his face that Remus matches, looking pleased, but Regulus doesn’t miss the way Sirius avoids his eyes in the mirror and pushes out of the bathroom well before the rest of them. 

He swallows the lump of worry that he’s broken something and gives James a small smile when his boyfriend looks. He actively avoids Remus’s gaze when he aims it Regulus’s way. 

Remus doesn’t let it pass the way Regulus had for Sirius. He grabs Regulus’s arm and holds him back for a moment in the hallway outside of the bathroom. 

Remus’s hand then cups Regulus’s jaw and turns his chin up, gaze finding his. “Alright?” Remus asked cautiously. 

“Yes,” Regulus breathes. Because, he should be. He’s just had a wonderful orgasm, his boyfriend is happy as a clam, he’s still pretty drunk and everything should be peachy. But Remus shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about Sirius. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at himself. Maybe me, a little.” 

“Why would he be mad at you?” 

Remus purses his lips. “How would you feel, being forced to admit you want something that you are used to feeling the need to deny yourself?”

Regulus thinks of James. He thinks of the months he spent courting Regulus, where he turned him away again and again because James was so good and sunny and Regulus didn’t think he deserved him. 

He remembers the prickly sensation of want. He knows how it feels to smother it, shove it down, choke on it all the while that thing is being dangled in front of him, ripe for the taking and begging him to. He remembers how hard it had been for him, still was, even, to wrap his hand around the fruit and bite for the first time. 

How the juice that ran down his lips was so shockingly refreshing, so sweet, because he had braced himself for the pungent acidity and rot that he’d convinced himself he would taste because he’d taken too long to decide he could have it.

He remembers how frustrated he’d been at James for it. He nods to Remus in understanding and it earns him a soft kiss to the forehead. “He’ll come around.” 

Regulus doesn’t know that, but he hopes it.  

*

Regulus doesn’t call in to work the next day, though he probably should’ve. Instead, he powers himself on four hours of sleep, a brewing hangover and way too much coffee throughout his shift and by five o’clock he’s pretty sure he could sleep upright like a horse.

Instead, though, he collapses into his bed at 5:15pm and wakes up twelve hours later to a dark apartment, in his rumpled work uniform and with several missed calls and texts from his boyfriend.

5:45pm, Missed call (3): James Potter

6:02pm, James: hey Reggie, how's the head?

6:10pm, James: U go to work today?

6:15pm, Missed call (2): James Potter

6:17pm, James: U still coming over? 

7:23pm, James: R U ALIVE? 

7:31pm, Missed call: James Potter

7:33pm, James: guess not..  I’ll start planning ur funeral :p sleep well Reggie <3

7:40pm, (Unknown Number): James says you died?? I guess I’ll be inviting your ghost over for dinner tomorrow then? 

7:41pm, (Unknown Number): This is Remus by the way

Regulus smiles to himself, ignoring James’s melodramatic messages to instead save Remus’s number and then send him a quick message back:

5:20am, Regulus: At the flat? What time? 

He gets a reply just before his lunch break, opening up his phone under the cover of his smock to read it.

11:46am, Remus: At mine. (Address), Does 5:30 work for you darling? 

Regulus’s eyebrows raise at the term of endearment, a blush staining his cheeks. Remus’s address was across town, it would definitely be a stretch to get home, clean himself up and get there on time but, Sirius was Remus’s boyfriend, so surely he was used to guests arriving fashionably late? He typed out a response and then stashed his phone back in his pocket.

11:50am, Regulus: I might be a little late.. but I’ll be there. 

After he eats, Regulus finally allows himself to check his phone again. He’d ignored several notification dings, which do not disappoint. Regulus is smothering a smile behind his palm as he reads them.

11:55am, Remus: Be on time and I’ll reward you ;)

12:01pm, James: Moony says he’s flirting with your ghost?? 

12:02pm, James: why are you ignoring me? flirt with me! 

12:03pm, James: Reggiiiieeee… 

12:10pm, Sirius: Moony says you’re coming for dinner.. 

He replies to James, if only to prevent the onslaught of calls he’ll no doubt get if he doesn’t.

12:47pm, Regulus: Is he flirting with me? I hadn’t noticed. And you didn’t seem too beat up about my death so… 

Regulus is staring warily at Sirius’s message when James replies.

12:49pm, James: you’re so cute when you play hard to get Reggie! i was devastated, just ask the boys. Pads had to listen to taylor swift all night! 

12:50pm, Regulus: I am not cute. And taylor swift, really? I think we need to break up for good this time. 

12:52pm, James: you are soooo cute. but HOW DARE you disrespect taylor. you’re right. Moony can have you. 

Regulus shakes his head with an indulgent laugh. “Oh my god, this man,” he groans under his breath.

12:53pm, Regulus: Have you gotten a massage from him? I can still feel his hands on my calves. He can definitely have me.. 

12:53pm, Regulus: Hows Sirius?

12:55pm, James: Oh. You’re so evil. Do his hands feel as good as my mouth? ;)

12:55pm, James: He’s giving me death glares. WHy is hE GIving me DeATh GlaRES?! 

12:56pm, Regulus: Probably because I haven’t replied to his text. Have to get back to work, see you tonight

Regulus hid his phone again with a sigh and went back to his shift. He was covered in dirt and mulch by the time five o’clock rolled around again, and there was absolutely no way he was going to make it home to shower and then to Remus’s across town any earlier than ten minutes late.

Resigned to miss out on whatever his reward may have been, Regulus is driving himself home when his phone rings. He presses the green button and slides it over to answer before looking at who's calling. 

“Hello?” Regulus says into the little bluetooth microphone at his wheel. 

“Reggie?” His brother’s voice echoes through the car's speakers. Regulus sighs. 

“Sirius, what’s up?” 

“Um... you sound far away.” 

“I’m driving.” 

“Over to Moony’s?” 

Regulus shakes his head, even though his brother can’t see him. He sounds as wary as Regulus feels. “To mine to shower. Covered in dirt from work.” 

“So... you’re still coming to dinner?” 

“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I’ll just be a little later than I thought. Is that... Is that okay with you? I can cancel, if you... if you want that.” Regulus chokes out the platitudes even though he doesn’t really want to. If that’s what his brother wants, though, for him to back off, to put space between them again... well, it’ll hurt, but he’ll do it. 

“Non,” Sirius starts, and Regulus' stomach drops but Sirius continues, “Yeah, no I don't. Want that. I want you... to, uh, to come to dinner. I’m glad you said yes.” 

“Oh...” Regulus breathes out. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeah, great, so um, I’ll see you in a bit?” 

“Oui. In a bit...” Sirius pauses, and then in a quieter voice says, “Reg?” 

“Yeah Siri?” The nickname slips out before he can think better of it. 

It takes Sirius a moment to reply, but when he does it's thick and quiet and it makes Regulus blush all over again. “Wear something vert, green. Brings out your eyes.”

*

Remus’s flat is a modest one bedroom, but the open floor plan and the exposed brick against industrial sized windows makes the living area large enough to accommodate four grown men without being crowded. Regulus sits on a comfortable sofa, wine glass in hand across from Sirius, who sits alone on the love seat. 

Regulus is busy watching Remus and James work smoothly around each other in the kitchen, ignoring the awkward air of distance between himself and his brother. 

“They work well together,” Regulus points out, bringing the wine glass up to his lips. 

“Yeah, they really bonded over a love of cooking,” Sirius tells Regulus fondly. 

“James makes excellent Indian food.” He’d cooked for Regulus on several occasions, each time a lovely combination of spice and flavours that had Regulus appreciating a cuisine he’d had no previous taste for. 

“Has he made you his Chai yet?” Sirius asks. 

Regulus shakes his head.

“He adapted the recipe when Remus showed him the comforts of adding liquor to your morning beverages,” Sirius laughs. Regulus joins him with a chuckle.

“Of course he did.” Regulus watches his boyfriend fondly. The easy way he moves about the kitchen and around his friend, the smiles he shoots Regulus and Sirius’s way, the little sound when he breathes in deeply over the pot of something boiling. 

“Tell me something I wouldn’t know about him, yet?” Regulus murmurs. 

“Why?” Sirius asks. 

Regulus shrugs, “I just want to hear whatever it is you’ll tell me.” Want to see him through your eyes, see if he’s just as sweet and shiny. 

“Okay... hmm... he plays American soap operas on the TV when he’s in a bad mood. Cried his eyes out to an episode of Days Of Our Lives when Cassandra lost one of her twins.” Regulus turns to watch Sirius as he says it. Sees the way his eyes crinkle, the after effect of a genuine smile. 

Regulus grins. He can picture it in his head, James with a box of tissues and terrible American acting bringing him to tears. He shakes his head, a smile still plastered on his face. “God, he’s unbearably endearing, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Sirius agrees readily. 

After a pause, Regulus murmurs, “Tell me something about you that I wouldn’t know?”

“Why?” Sirius whispers.

Regulus searches the walls that quickly build up around Sirius, finding their weak spot and pressing with a repeated whisper, “I just want to hear whatever it is you’ll tell me...” 

They sit in silence while Sirius thinks. Has the same look on his face that Regulus remembers, and it makes him want to cross the space between them and smooth out the little line that forms between his eyebrows. 

He wishes he hadn’t had to miss out on all of the things that must’ve changed since then. Ten years is a long time. But he’s happy to see that other things, quirks he’d loved, hadn’t changed a bit. 

Sirius takes another swig of his wine, a rich red that coats his lips before he says, “I like to paint sometimes.” 

“To paint?” Regulus arches a brow. 

Sirius nods. “Yeah. Have you ever seen my room? There’s a whole corner just filled with canvases and paints and stuff.” 

“I’ve never looked,” Regulus admits. “That was James’s flatmate’s space, I’d only been over a few times and I wasn’t about to go nosing around.” 

Sirius gives him a funny look and nods, looking away. 

“Can I... see, sometime? Your paintings?” Sirius gives him another funny look, but when he goes to open his mouth to answer, James interrupts them. 

“Dinner! Hope everyone's okay with a bit of heat.” He grins. Regulus looks away from Sirius to smile at his boyfriend.

At the dinner table, Regulus finds out that by a little heat, James didn’t just mean the food. He’s sure his cheeks are burning as James’s hand slides up and down the inside of his thigh. He’s being teased, horribly so, and Regulus is starting to think that torturing him is everyone at this table’s favourite pastime, until he notices that his brother is equally red and avoiding anyone's gaze in favour of staring at the food on his plate.  

James continues on like this while they eat, all polite conversation even though hands under tables are doing very impolite things. No one minds. No one objects. Once the food is cleared away, James, the mischievous git, suggests a game of truth or dare. 

They move away from the dining table and back to the lounge furniture. Regulus is pushed down next to Sirius on the love seat, much to Sirius's apparent chagrin. This game choice screamed "ulterior motives" and yet, Sirius didn't protest either. Curious. 

Regulus catches James’s eye when he sits down on the floor across the table. His boyfriend settles back, drink in hand beside Remus’s legs. “Who goes first?”

“Youngest to eldest?” Remus suggests with a look towards Regulus.

“Sure,” Regulus shrugs. He takes the easy route, not wanting to be the first to give in to whatever ulterior motive he can feel behind James’s casual demeanour. “James, truth or dare?”

James plays it safe, picks “truth”, and Regulus asks, “Do you really cry to American soap TV?” 

James gasps, “Who told you that?” He looks around their company with accusatory glares.

Sirius chuckles next to Regulus, and it sounds like praise to Regulus’s desperate ears. Like his brother is saying, “Well done." 

“Your turn?” Regulus shakes his head at James.

“Yep. Here we go... Padfoot, dear, truth or dare?” he grins. 

Regulus hears Sirius swallow hard next to him. “Well, Mon cheri, I sense a plot brewing here, so let's cut to the chase, on y va? (Shall we?) Dare.” 

James’s grin widens. The spark in his eyes is positively evil when he says, “As you wish, my fabulously intuitive friend. I dare you to come give me a kiss, please.” 

Regulus’s eyes widen, and Sirius’s brows draw together in confusion. “What’s the catch, manipulateur? (manipulator)” 

“Ah, the catch.” James nods, glancing at Regulus before saying, “Come give me a kiss... with tongue.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Are we ten? If you wanted me to french you, you could’ve just said so the first time.” 

Sirius moves from his seat and drops himself gracefully into James’s open lap. He’s taller than James, so he ducks down, arms wrapped around his shoulders as they press their lips together. Regulus has to press his thighs together while he watches his brother's tongue slip into his boyfriend's mouth. 

He glances to Remus, who is leaned back in his chair, a leg crossed over the other with his ankle on his knee. He’s got a drink in one hand, and he’s rubbing two fingers across his lips with the other. He looks not in the least surprised, as if it is a regular occurrence for James to make out with his boyfriend. There’s an interesting spark in his eyes, so perhaps it is. 

Regulus staunchly looks away from his brother when he reclaims his seat next to him. He absolutely does not notice the glossy eyes or the kiss stained lips both men now sport. 

Remus clears his throat. “What a show, boys,” he says playfully, “Regulus, truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” he answers, if only to prolong the seemingly inevitable a couple more turns, to try to find the path this game seems to be trying to take. 

Remus’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly unimpressed with his choice. He takes a moment before he asks, “What’s your favourite part of James’s body?” 

“His cock,” Regulus deadpans automatically. James snickers, and Regulus acquiesces fondly, “And his smile.” 

Sirius is still next to him, ample space between them but Regulus can still feel his tension. 

“That’s sweet, baby,” James coos.

“Your turn,” Regulus grumbles to Sirius.

“Right, um... Moony, truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” Remus answers automatically. 

“Why are we playing this silly children's game?” he asks, tone bored.

“You want me to spoil it for you?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“We,” Remus gestures between himself and James, “Think you need a little bit of encouragement to open up to... ideas, that you’ve both,” Remus nods towards the brothers, “have expressed interest in.” 

It’s a very posh, almost too polite way to say “You need to be forced into sleeping with your brother like we know you want to”. Regulus almost laughs. 

He doesn’t laugh, though, because he’s saddened by the acknowledgement that however much Regulus may want Sirius to do, Sirius says they can’t. Feels like they shouldn’t. It’s so stupid when the people they love - or could love - are in the room practically chanting do it, do it, do it. 

He expects Sirius to shut this down, to say “Okay, I’m done now”, but... he doesn’t. He grumbles a very forlorn, “He’s my brother, you realise?” 

To which Remus responds, “Yes, darling, I can see the resemblance.” 

Regulus interrupts with a hasty, “Sirius, truth or dare?” 

His brother gives him a slow look, head turned when he says, “Dare.” 

“Je te défie de m'embrasser.” (“I dare you to kiss me.”) He breathes out, before he can think better of it. “With tongue...” He adds as an afterthought. 

Sirius, to his credit, only looks mildly annoyed. He licks his lips and then his pale fingers are twisting into the front of Regulus’s sage green jumper and pulling him forward, lips pressing together.

It’s a closed mouth kiss at first, just lips on lips, but Sirius gasps for breath and then doesn’t close his mouth, but instead invites him in. His brother’s mouth is hot and his tongue is insistently pulling Regulus’s inside and pressing together, back and forth like they’re swapping a mint. 

It’s only a handful of seconds, but it makes Regulus throb. When Sirius shoves him away, he lands with his back against the arm of the couch, and through half lidded eyes he can see the tent raising Sirius’s pants as well. 

James whistles through his teeth. It’s an appreciative noise that has Regulus looking over and biting his lip. “Reggie, baby, truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” Regulus breathes. 

“I dare you to sit on your brother's cock for the remainder of the game.” Sirius makes a noise of protest, but James amends by saying, “In his lap, over his pants, I mean.” 

Regulus presses his thighs together again before climbing up on all fours and crawling over to Sirius. He situates himself on his brother's lap, sideways, so that Sirius’s hard length is situated under his own. Sirius groans, but he wraps his arms around Regulus’s waist anyway.

It’s an oddly heated version of the way they were together the other day, when Regulus was stuck in post orgasmic bliss, except Sirius isn’t allowed to move him off this time.

“Sirius, truth or dare?” Remus asks, and oh, their boyfriends are playing dirty. Targeted, Regulus would call it unfair if it wasn’t getting him what he wants, too. 

“Dare,” Sirius grumbles, and Regulus gives him a long, curious look. Because Sirius could say “truth”, could spill some answer from his lips and get away from this turn unscathed but instead, instead, he chooses the option that will more then likely escalate their already inappropriate situation. Sirius looks away from Regulus, to his boyfriend, while he waits for his dare. 

“Hm... I dare you to remove Regulus’s shirt.” 

“Non, ” Regulus gasps out, hands coming down to the hems of his shirt protectively even though Sirius hasn’t moved. He’s still under Regulus, almost unnaturally so. 

“Now Reggie darling, it’s not your-...” Remus starts to reprimand him, but thankfully, James cuts in. 

“Not the shirt, Remus,” James says sternly. 

“I apologise, Regulus. Is there anything else that is off limits for you, before I continue?” 

“Just my back. Everything else is fine...” Regulus answers shyly. Sirius’s hands tighten around his waist, but Regulus avoids his gaze. He wonders if he gave it away, this thing that would ruin their game. This part of Regulus that has so violently changed since the last time the brothers would have been shirtless together. 

“Sirius, I dare you to... Reposition Regulus, so that he faces me. Lean him back, that's it, yes, and spread his thighs. Hands higher... Yes, there you are. So good for me.” As Remus talks, Sirius moves Regulus until his legs are splayed wide on either side of Sirius’s thighs, hands high above his knees. He is exposed, save for his clothes, to their boyfriends. His back is, thankfully, safe from touch or sight against Sirius’s chest.

“Your turn,” Remus reminds Sirius. 

Regulus can hear Sirius breath, harsh against his ear as he says quietly. “Reggie... truth or dare?” 

Remus grins. James leans back, hand rubbing the bulge at the front of his pants as he watches the brothers aptly. 

“Truth...” Regulus breathes, because he’s wary that Sirius will tell him to move, and he’ll have to, regardless of the fact James dared him to stay. 

He feels his brother's nose behind his ear, swears there’s a soft brush of lips on his skin. “Mm... Voulez-vous que je vous touche? (Do you want me to touch you?)” 

“Oui,” Regulus answers immediately. His hands hang limply on either side of him, and he fights hard not to mimic James’s ministrations. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” It’s not his turn. He’s asked his question. 

Regulus answers anyway. “Under my clothes...” He tips his head back when he definitely feels lips against his skin. 

Sirius’s hands, warm palms against even warmer skin, brush up under Regulus’s shirt. They skim past his navel and up, up until those smooth, long fingers are dancing precariously over Regulus’s nipples. Regulus gasps.

“Oh...”

“There?” Sirius asks playfully. 

“Yes...” Regulus hisses. His eyes are glued to James’s fly as he undoes it. His hand disappears under his waistband and-...

“How about...” Sirius whispers, as one hand lowers to Regulus’s tenting pants, squeezing teasingly over his clothes, “Here?” 

“Yes. Yes...” Regulus pants, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. The hand on his erection disappears.

“Your turn, petite étoile, (little star,)” Sirius says, tone so casual that it makes Regulus’s ears steam. He doesn’t know when his brother gave in to their boyfriends little game, but he is not going to let him back out now. 

“I dare you to touch me, Sirius. Touch my cock.” His voice is full of brotherly challenge as he says it. 

Sirius, for all of his teasing, hesitates. Remus is pulling out his own dick when he says, “Come now, Sirius, be a good boy. Or do you want to lose at a game for children?"

“Moony...” Sirius starts hesitantly, but Remus fixes him with a look. “No, sir...” It sounds like he’s pouting, but his fingers work at Regulus’s zipper and then he’s pulling out his cock and wrapping those pale fingers around it and squeezing. 

“ungf...” Regulus whimpers, grinding down against Sirius’s own erection. 

“Fuck,” Sirius breaths from behind him, chin on Regulus’s shoulder to look down at his hand around his younger brother. 

“Oh, fuck that's hot,” James gasps as he, too, frees himself from his pants. His free hand has a grip on Remus’s ankle as he touches himself. 

The only one not out and being touched is Sirius, who is hard as rock underneath Regulus’s ass. Regulus does him a service, rubbing himself down again. 

His brothers breath hitches and oh, fuck, Regulus keens. 

“Sirius, truth or dare?” James asks through gritted teeth, continuing their game. 

“Dare,” Sirius groans. 

“Tease his nipple,” James manages, and Sirius eagerly obliges, fingers pulling and twisting at the sensitive nub, making Regulus’s back arch. 

They continue like this, wet sounds echoing through the air for minutes where Regulus feels like he must’ve died and gone to heaven because his brothers hand is rubbing him off and Remus and James are watching like it’s some sick incest porn on the TV. Fuck.

Remus interrupts Regulus’s train of thought. “James, truth or dare?” 

“Dare, Moony. Dare me,” James moans. 

“I dare you...” Remus says, hand movements slow and squeezing in time to Sirius’s on Regulus, “to fuck your boyfriend, on my boyfriend's lap.” 

“Happily,” James gasps, already moving forward and peeling Regulus out of his pants and underwear before his brain has fully caught up. 

Regulus arches his back and James’s fingers, lubed from somewhere Regulus didn’t even see, are working him open. It’s the slow, thorough spread that Regulus is used to from James. James is attentive, mouthing and kissing at Regulus’s cock as Sirius slows his strokes until James has him open and ready. 

“That’s it, relax, Reggie...” Sirius coos to him, and it's heady. Regulus is slipping fast. 

James stands, sure and tall as he lubes himself up, leaning forward and bracing a hand on the couch behind them to kiss Regulus silly while he pushes himself in. He’s slow about this too, letting Regulus adjust, pulling him down and forward once he’s fully seated in him. Hips up, allowing James the perfect access. 

“Fuck... Fuck, Jamie...” 

“Do you have any idea how hot this is?” Remus groans from behind them. 

Sirius’s hand speeds up, and Regulus is threatening to spill long before he’s ready for this to end as James thrusts into him. The slip and slide of pleasure coursing through him, pressing him down into Sirius’s cock with each intrusion. 

James leans in again and Regulus thinks he’ll kiss him, but James’s face moves past Regulus to Sirius, and he hears the connection of their lips as they kiss. It’s wet and sloppy and his boyfriend tastes so good when he moves back to give Regulus his mouth too. 

He hears, more than sees, Remus stand and then he’s sitting down beside Sirius, cock red and wet at the tip as he strokes himself. Regulus reaches out with a free hand and wraps his fingers around the member; they're small in comparison and don't wrap fully around the shaft. Remus swears, or Regulus assumes he does, because it’s a language he doesn’t know, but it sounds like a swear and so Regulus moves his hand fast along his shaft to encourage the sound again. 

It’s sweaty between them, and Sirius’s hands haven’t left him as he’s fucked, slow and thorough on top of him. He hears the locks of lips again behind him as James pants into his mouth. 

Pleasure builds. It pulses through Regulus’s body and he needs to fucking come but he wants something else, too. Wants his brother. 

“Stop, stop, fuck,” he gasps, and James stills, a hand twisting into Regulus’s hair to pull his head up. 

“You alright?” His boyfriend asks, breathless, face pinched like it pains him to be still. 

“Gonna come,” Regulus says, as if that explains his train of thought. 

James falls forward, forehead pressing against Regulus. “That’s the point, baby," he groans. It makes Regulus feel stupid. So fucking stupid, so fucking funny that he laughs. 

“Can I turn around?” He pleads, doe eyes aimed up. 

James looks confused for all of five seconds before he’s pulling himself out of Regulus and moving the smaller boy like a doll. Flipping him around, hooking his hands under his thighs and pulling him up to his knees.

Regulus has to let go of Remus for this to work, but he takes advantage of two free hands by undoing his brother’s fly and pulling him out of his tight jeans. Sirius is throbbing, stiff and his head is purple from the pressure of blood flow there. He makes the most inhuman sound when Regulus leans forward and spits. 

He gets his brother wet, as wet as spit can, doesn’t even ask before he leans in and kisses him harshly on the mouth. 

Sirius tenses, and for an absurd second Regulus swears he’s going to be slapped, but then Sirius melts and is pressing forward with his own mouth, encouraging Regulus as he wraps his hands around them both and tugs them together. 

James re-sheaths himself in Regulus’s hole in one go, forcing him forward with a cry. He’s full and spit slick and holding his brothers cock as the motion of James’s thrusting fucks them together. 

He pulls his lips away and presses their foreheads together like James just had to him. He watches Sirius’s now free hand go to Remus’s cock and stroke, taking up Regulus’s previous job.

The boyfriends lean together, open mouthed and tongues tangling while Regulus busies his lips down the side of Sirius’s face and neck. 

Their moans are loud, can be heard over the sounds of slapping skin and swears from each man. This couch is so fucking ruined, Regulus thinks casually as he feels James’s hips start to stutter. 

Remus’s hand grips Regulus’s hair and pulls him into a wet kiss that Sirius joins enthusiastically, and Regulus didn’t even know three men could kiss this way but he never wants to stop. 

The slide of tongues against his own is what does it, and he spills over his hand, slicking his brother’s cock further as he continues to rub them together. James is next to let go, mouth at the back of Regulus’s ear as he moans his way through his orgasm, names spilling from James’s mouth like prayers. “Regulus, baby. Fuck, Sirius, your fucking mouth, oh my God. Remus. Remus!” 

All that Regulus can do is hang on and be fucked and kissed to within an inch of his life as James fills him. He wonders idly where Remus is touching James because that noise, that sound he makes as he comes is the distinctly high pitched appreciation of pain somewhere on his boyfriend's body. 

When James has filled him up he swiftly pulls out, the pop of it making Regulus gasp and leak immediately. He hears his boyfriend sit down on the coffee table behind them, and then those strong arms are around Regulus’s waist and pulling him back.

He whines in protest until James shushes him harshly by pushing him down to his knees on the floor. Legs move, and Regulus finds himself between Remus and Sirius, cocks being traded between his lips. 

He’s a slut for it, licking and sucking at them like candy, a hand on each. 

James has his hands now on his shoulders, keeping him where he is while his brother and his brother's fucking boyfriend position themselves above him and slide there cocks home, taking turns like Regulus’s mouth is a free use public fucking bathroom or something.

Sirius has a hand in Regulus’s hair, tugging his face up while his other pushes at the base of his dick to angle it down as he works it down his throat. Regulus hums, and sucks, and Sirius spews a nonsense of french slang that Regulus only catches a word or two from. He’s saying something about being made to suck cock, he thinks, because he catches words like “born to” and “gag reflex”. 

He trades off with Remus, who is considerably bigger than the other men. Regulus licks at his length and mouths at his head before stretching his lips wide and eagerly taking him in. His eyes tear up, salty wet that streams down his cheeks and Remus calls him the sweetest, dirtiest fucking names. 

James watches from behind, and Remus asks him for permission before he spills down Regulus’s throat. James gives it to him, of course, and Regulus swallows. He misses some, wants the mess of it as it drips down his chin and mingles with tears. 

Sirius is squeezing his base repeatedly, holding himself back. He rubs his cock against the mess on Regulus’s face, spreading it around. His head catches on Regulus’s lips and he mouths at it. 

“Fuck... Reggie. I want you to know...” he gasps as he stuffs it down Regulus’s throat unexpectedly before pulling it out and rubbing it on his face again, “that you are the best,” he does it again, and Regulus gags. “The best. Fucking. Brother.” Sirius does it again, hard enough to make Regulus’s shoulders jerk back. James holds him still. “The best fucking brother, that anyone could ask for.” He does it again, with the same strength, Regulus’s eyes roll back. 

“So giving. So loving. So fucking pretty.” Sirius babbles as he jacks himself off, spilling all over Regulus’s face. It gets in his eyes, on his nose, on his lips, on his tongue which hangs out of his open mouth. 

Sirius tastes like salt. Like spit. Like... love. Fuck, Regulus loves him. So fucking much. 

After their panting breaths are calmed, and the slick on Regulus’s face is runny, Remus is putting himself away and patting Sirius on the cheek. “Clean up your mess, darling.” 

Sirius could go get a washcloth. Regulus, brain hazy, expects him to. He does not expect for Sirius to pull him up into his lap and lick his own come off of Regulus’s face, but this is what he does. Wetly. Messily. Like a dog. 

“Oh my god!” James laughs from behind them, and it has Regulus laughing too, collapsing bonelessly against his brother as he hugs him close. 

“Thank you,” Sirius presses a kiss onto Regulus’s mouth. 

“‘Welcome...” Regulus sighs contentedly, sinking in further. 

His brother leans back, a hand stroking through his hair, and the soft sounds of his breath lures Regulus into a dreamless sleep. 

*

Regulus wakes alone on the couch, under a thick woollen blanket and with his trousers back on. It’s dark in the apartment, and quiet save for the noise of a television from the direction of the bedroom. Regulus stretches and attempts to right his hair before quietly padding towards the sound.

He leans against the open door frame and takes in the sight of the three men. James is sitting at the foot of the bed, a bowl of popcorn in his lap as he watches the TV. Remus is leaned back against the headboard, book in one hand and Sirius’s head in the other, where his brother lays across his lap, also watching the movie. 

“Didn’t want to include me in movie night?” he grouses playfully from the door. 

James looks up, giving a goofy grin as he so often does. “Heyyyy sleepy head. How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” he shrugs, “Sore. What time is it?” 

James looks at the TV. “Pretty late. Just past eleven.”

“Do you want to stay?” Remus asks, seemingly casual from behind his book, but Regulus sees the way his brother seems to tense up. 

Regulus does. He really, really wants to stay. But... “Ah, nah, I should probably head home. Work tomorrow... Rain check?” 

“Sure baby, come here.” Regulus falls forward at the command of his sweet boyfriend who gives him a lovely kiss. “Want me to walk you out?”

“I can do it.” Sirius jumps up. He looks sweet like this, soft around the edges, a sleep shirt that is very obviously Remus’s because of its sandy colour hanging off of his slimmer frame. 

Regulus kisses James once more. “I’ll see you this weekend?” 

“Of course. You want to stay over then?” 

Regulus nods, and James gives him a “Perfect” and a “Hey... I could love you” to which he responds with a silly, breathy little, “I could love you too, Jamie.” 

At the door, Regulus bounces between his feet, unsure of how to say goodbye to his brother. Sirius shuffles towards him, pulling him into a slightly stilted hug. 

In the privacy of the foyer Sirius whispers, “Thank you, Reggie, that was...” 

“Cathartic?” Regulus attempts to finish for him, because Regulus feels like it was. Like they let go of something nasty and stringent holding them back. He feels lighter, more free, now. 

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, a small, fond smile on his face. His fingers idly chase the loose strands of Regulus’s hair back behind his ears. “And hey, now that we’ve got that out of our systems, we can focus on the whole… being brothers thing.” 

Regulus’s whole world, for once right on its axis where it should be, tilts. “...What?”

“I mean, now that we’ve done that, we can...” 

“Is that what that was to you?” Regulus gasps. He rips away from Sirius’s unconscious stroking, hugging his arms around his waist. 

Sirius’s eyebrows draw in. “Reggie...” He reaches out to touch him again but Regulus moves back against the open door frame. 

“Was. That. What it was. A one time thing?” 

“It... It has to be...” Sirius whispers.

Regulus nods in indignant understanding. “And am I?”

“... Are you what?”

“Am I out of your system now, Sirius? I mean, you’ve shoved your cock down my throat and come on my face. But are you sure you don’t want to fuck me before you throw me away for good?”

Sirius groans. “Reggie, that’s not...” 

The bedroom door swings open behind them, but Regulus pays it no mind. “I mean, that’s what they have recycling bins for now isn’t it? For trash you’re not finished with yet? I’d hate for you to throw me away before you’re sure you’ve had your fill!” 

“Regulus! Stop it! That’s not what I meant and you know it! That was... You are... Everything to me. You’re my brother, I love you, you’re not trash!”

“Then why can't you let yourself have me more than once? What’s stopping you? I’m offering myself to you, why won’t you have me?!” Regulus screams. His chest is heaving, angry tears threatening to spill. 

“It’s not... It’s not right...” Sirius stutters, backing up a little. 

“Says WHO?!”

Sirius starts to answer, but Regulus cuts him off.

“Your boyfriend? Mine? They were both right there! Did they look disgusted, Sirius?!” Regulus aims his glare at the two men, watching from a safe distance. 

Sirius shakes his head. “Reg...” 

“Society? Because society doesn’t even have to know? Last I checked, nobody was keeping track of the bodies in our beds?” Regulus continues his rant. “Our parents? Our parents! Is that who you’re worried about? Because I don’t know if this news reached you, self-exiled as you were, but they’re DEAD Sirius, DEAD! So they can’t give a rat's ass, and they never cared about us anyway!” 

“...Our parents are dead?” Sirius puts a hand to his mouth. 

“Yes. As door nails,” Regulus spits. 

Sirius stands still and quiet before him. Regulus scoffs. “Oh, don’t act like you give a shit! They did nothing but abuse you for your entire life until you left, and me after!” 

Sirius's eyes widen, and Regulus takes a step back when he realises his mistake. Flashes of memories play at the corners of his vision. A child sized Sirius, taking lashes. A teenage Regulus, taking worse ones. 

Sirius reaches towards him. Regulus’s back slams into the walls. “Reggie... baby... did they... did they hurt you when I left?” 

And his brother's tone is so soft. It’s affectionate, and cajoling, the kind of thing you say to a scared little kid, and Regulus probably looks like one, because the scars on his back ache now that he’s thinking about them. Sirius is walking slowly towards him, cornering him, and Regulus can’t move until soft fingers trace his cheek.

He wants to lean into them, to cry, to tell Sirius about all of the horrible things that happened to him after, but his body revolts. He heaves, and he hears James call out, “Sirius... don’t touch him.” Because his boyfriend is a beautiful person who remembers what happens when Regulus is triggered, remembers what he can handle and what he can’t. His boyfriend has to warn his own brother of this, and Regulus suddenly remembers, through panic and pain, that he is fucking angry. 

That anger makes him laugh. It’s a hysterical burst from his chest and he brings his hands up to shove at his brother. Sirius stumbles back, shock on his face. 

“Did they hurt me?” he screams at him. “She maimed me!” 

Regulus rips his jumper, the stupid sage green jumper that Sirius had told him to wear, right off over his head. He throws it at Sirius, an ineffectual throw but it plops against Sirius’s chest all the same. “They abused me,” he chokes, hands clenched into fists, “Pendant des années. (For years.) And still, it was less painful than when you left. But I’m glad you got me out of your system Sirius. I hope it was worth it for you. Both times.” Regulus hits low, below the belt, as hard as he can, and then he leaves. 

Tears stream down Regulus’s face as he turns and stalks out of the flat, shirtless. He hears his brother's harsh gasp, the thunk of knees hitting the floor. He knows Sirius saw the state of his back. Red, mottled skin that would never be smooth or pale again, save for his waist. He doesn’t care. His heart is torn to thinner shreds, and he’s bleeding out from it. 

All he wants is to go back in time, thirty or forty minutes to when he was blissfully asleep, thoroughly sated and unaware of the heartbreak to come. 

James chases him down, makes it to him before Regulus can open up his car door, because of course he does. When he ignores him and tries, James slams his palm against the window. “You’re not going home alone like this, Reggie,” he says softly. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine, James.” He doesn’t mean to yell, but it comes out like that. Regulus knows it would be so easy to sink into this anger, to wield it further, aimed right at James. But who can blame the sun for wanting those under him to be warm, loved? No one, certainly not Regulus. Even if he got burned. He softens as James pulls his own t-shirt off and tugs it over Regulus’s head, careful not to touch his skin. It makes him realise he’s trembling. 

“Gimme your keys, baby,” he orders quietly, in his no nonsense tone. 

Regulus digs them out of his pocket and hands them over. When James helps him into the passenger seat of his car, he doesn’t argue. He cries quietly the whole way home, and it doesn’t stop even when James tucks him into his own bed. Even when James asks ever so gently for permission to touch him. Even when his boyfriend climbs under the duvet and wraps him up in strong, warm arms. Regulus mourns, and James holds him, lets him, stays with him.

He is there for Regulus in a way that is so reminiscent of childhood comforts that the nostalgia chokes him. James is selfless and forgiving and he respects Regulus’s distance while still holding him tightly and Regulus is so, so fucking lucky to have him. Regulus loves him. Thinks that James may love him, too. And yet, selfish as he always is, Regulus mourns a love not given, because James is not his brother, and does not fill the hole that Sirius carved out of his heart from birth with careful fingers. The hole that he carves still, tearing edges with careless words while Regulus bleeds, and bleeds, and bleeds... Regulus cannot take what he cannot hold onto with hands too weak and shaky. 

Chapter Text

*Nine Years and Seven Months Earlier

It was hardly six months after Sirius left that their father, Orion, was diagnosed with cancer. It was stage four, terminal. Their mother played the part of a dutiful, loving wife, transforming their bedroom from a dank mockery of a lover’s cave to the crisp white sheets and machinery of a hospital room. She banished him there like he had the plague, traipsed in with drugs and decaying spirits and visitors who paid their dues to a man still living.

She mourned for him before his death, but her concern was disingenuous. It was crocodile tears, a show of emotion for the on-looking masses, but as soon as the manor doors were closed to guests for the day, she descended upon her family as the cruel, volatile matriarch she really was. His father’s illness meant there was no one left to contest her treatment of the people, the slaves, her servants and her son, around her.  

Her abuse, while simply neglectful towards her husband when not under prying eyes, was violent towards her youngest son in a way Regulus had never experienced. His treatment thus far had been mostly emotional manipulation.

Sirius had shielded him from the beatings, from lashings and the torment of darkness in a locked room, but Regulus wasn’t stupid. He knew plainly the cruelty his brother was met with at the hands of his mother. The hand he was dealt, mostly at the failures of his younger brother.

This, though. The cold, wet stone of the basement that Regulus knelt upon, bare except his underwear and wrists bound, was a level of torment for which he was certain Sirius mustn't have received. At first, he was certain Sirius couldn’t have experienced it. His brother loved him. He wouldn’t have left him if he thought this is what would befall Regulus in his absence?

But after months of new, inventive methods in which Regulus’s skin was shredded, in which his mind was twisted, in which his tears never stopped flowing, as he was hurt and starved and screamed at about all of his failures and shortcomings, Regulus came to realise... His family thought he deserved it.  

It only took one session with a cattle prod for him to believe he deserved it too. He realised, as shocks racked his body and made him convulse, that he didn’t blame Sirius for leaving him to this. Regulus wouldn’t have stayed to accept this punishment for someone who so selfishly took intimate things from him, either. There was only so much a person could give to his family.  

When his father died, he was returned to his room. Regulus huddled in the corner, hidden from the door by his bed, which he staunchly avoided. He was a lump who would only eat, or sleep, or stop shaking for one fucking second, your mother is talking to you, when he was told to. 

It was an honour he didn’t deserve, to be allowed to contribute in polite society. Did he want to be marched back to the basement? He’d put a smile on his face, eat his food, and not utter a word out of place when he’s spoken to or that is exactly the punishment he would receive. 

Regulus had always been better at obedience, better at quiet, better at unseen and unheard than his brother. He wasn’t perfect, but in the week before he was due to be seen by the general public, he was the best that he could be. He only received harsh smacks to his hands, which were hardly mosquito stings in comparison to the pain he’d become accustomed to. 

This benevolence, this chance at normality his mother so kindly afforded him, meant that there was fat on his bones and the dark circles under his eyes were less-so when he was dragged along to his father’s memorial service. 

He repeated phrases like “He’ll be missed” and “He was an amazing father” and “I loved him dearly” over and over again, dull tones in response to the condolences of people he didn’t really know without feeling any of it. Without feeling anything. He saw through dead eyes the visage of his father in a casket and wished it could be him.

Except for when a shock of blonde hair accosted him in a quiet hallway, away from the rooms of mourners. “Where is Sirius? I’ve not seen him in ages. Has he married?” It broke through the haze, the mention of his brother, and Regulus just wanted to feel something, even if it was bad. 

Regulus kissed her. Shoved her against the wall and let his tongue steal the gasps from her mouth. Let his hands roam. Until a soft palm hit his cheek, a solid slap that sent a shock through his system, because for all of her violence, it made him hard. 

He peeled himself off of her in a rush, back hitting the opposite wall and sending more pain through his body as his hands went to his face and he sobbed. Not because it hurt. Not because he missed his father. Not because of the abuse he’d been enduring. Not because his cousin looked at him with outrage and disgust on her face.

No, he cried because he missed his brother. He cried because he was selfish. He cried, and cried, because he had nothing to give, but it had made him feel good to take. “He’s gone... He’s gone...” he answered her. 

Narcissa was silent for a few moments before she scoffed, and muttered a french slur for “whore” in an irritated tone, but then her body was pressing against his again and she was prying his hands away from his face and kissing him. He kissed her back. He let her guide him into the restrooms and suck his dick and he gave her nothing, but she didn’t ask for anything either. 

She let him finish in her mouth while he gripped her hair and squeezed his eyes shut so he didn’t have to look at her soft cheeks or her pert breasts. She politely ignored the way he gasped his brother’s name at the end. 

She apologised for his loss when they were finished. He thought, perhaps, she didn’t mean his father.   

*Present Day

“What did he say out there, Reg? Because in the bedroom...” James asks. He's watching cautiously as Regulus paces around his room, getting ready. It was mid-day by the time he got himself out of bed, but now he was a tornado of clothes off of hangers and his hair still air drying as he searched for that one shirt, the baggy grey one with the flowers and the fairies on it. 

“What? He didn’t broadcast to you two lovesick idiots that he was going to dump me at the door? Huh? Shocking, I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t." Aha, he thinks as he finds the shirt under a brown plaid one on a hanger. Perfect. 

 “Don’t snap at me, baby, I’m just trying to understand what happened.” 

“There’s nothing to understand. You said it yourself, I’m a good lay. That’s all he wanted from me.” Regulus shrugs with feigned indifference as he pulls up his black socks. They reach his ankles, just above the boots he’s yet to put on. 

“Reg... You’re an excellent lay, but your brother wouldn’t just...” 

“Fuck me and then send me off like a pay per hour prostitute?” Regulus snaps at him, and James groans, wiping his hands over his face.

“Well, that’s what he did,” Regulus grouses.

James’s lips purse into a thin line. He isn’t often stunned into silence, his Jamie. He has words for days to spill from those soft lips, and yet, he stands there and watches quietly as Regulus gets himself ready, not saying any of them.

Regulus sits at his vanity to tie his laces. 

“Where are you off to? I called into work for you... Honestly, I thought you would stay in bed for longer,” James sulks, arms crossed.

“Hmm?” Regulus looks up from his bent position. “Oh...” He stands, smoothing the pleat of the thigh length black pleat of his skirt and tugs on the flannel that hangs loosely off of his shoulders. Satisfied in his unruffled reflection, he meets James' eyes in the mirror. “I’m going to go fuck my brother’s boyfriend.” 

James practically chokes. He stumbles closer to Regulus, expression wary. “That is... a shockingly bad idea, Reggie.” 

“Mm, oui,” Regulus waves off his concerns, adding a bit of mascara to his bottom lashes. It definitely was not a good idea. But it would get his brother's attention. It would scream I'm selfish and I'll keep taking until you give it to me. That's what he wants. A big, red sign that says "I'm not giving up". 

“What will that even get you?” 

“Some great sex, hopefully,” he shrugs again, fingers hovering over several tubes of lipsticks and a clear gloss. 

“And you’re going to do this...” James mutters, “regardless of what I have to say about it?”

Regulus sighs and turns around, he urges James closer, running his hands up over his boyfriend's chest when he complies. “No, James. I wont cheat on you. If you tell me right now that you’ve changed your mind, that it will hurt you or that you’re uncomfortable with me being intimately involved with Remus, I wont go. I’ll stay right here and let you take off my pretty panties and have your way with me. But, if that’s your decision, you have to mean it. Do you really want to end things with them? I see how you are together...” 

James shakes his head and gives him a long, searching look. “You think this will...  encourage Sirius to reconsider?” 

“I think this will force him to,” Regulus confirms with a sure nod. 

James sighs. He grips the sides of Regulus’s t-shirt and pulls him in so that he’s pressed against his front. He leans him back, nice and slow until his back is arched over the vanity, and then leans in to kiss him thoroughly.

“Think of it like one big prank,” Regulus jokes, and he can feel James smile against his lips. 

“Wear the lip gloss, baby. Remus won't be able to resist you.” 

Regulus grins, and dons the sticky liquid when James releases him. He has a vet to visit. 

*

Remus’s offices are pastel colours on white. There’s posters lining the walls neatly, and the waiting room is quiet, just a woman with her cat in a carrier. Regulus approaches the woman at the desk, and he’s abruptly aware of his lack of an animal as he clears his throat. 

“Good afternoon. Is Mr. Lupin in?” 

“Do you have an animal being cared for,” the receptionist looks up from her screen to cast her eyes over Regulus, “Sir?”

Merde. (Shit.) “Um, no, I just...”

“Do you have an animal that needs medical attention?” she asks.

“No, but, I need to see him, could you ask if he’s free?” 

“No,” she says crisply, eyes dropping back to her screen.

“Grossière. (Rude) Could you at least tell him I’m here, my name is-,” 

“Regulus?” Remus calls from the open doorway to the hall of offices. Regulus’s mouth goes dry. He’s wearing a white lab coat over a light blue button up that fits him snugly. His beige slacks tightly hug his legs, leaving little to the imagination. He looks like a prim and proper doctor who spends any second he’s not in the offices at the gym and holy fuck. 

Regulus is hyper aware that he looks like he just stepped off of a runway for 20 year old homeless cross-dressers, but Remus hasn’t even glanced down from his eyes. Just stares at him, confusion marring his handsome face and making the scars around his eye crinkle. 

Regulus realises suddenly that he’s not said anything, he’s just standing there staring like an idiot. “Um, hey, Remus.” 

Remus’s eyebrows, if possible, draw closer together when he finally does look down Regulus’s body. They catch on his lips when his eyes come back up, and then he’s addressing the snarky receptionist when he says, “Give my next appointment to Ms. Sharm, will you Cassy?” 

The receptionist scoffs. “Yes sir.” 

“Come back to my office, Regulus.” Remus gestures behind him, and then turns and heads in the direction he pointed.

Regulus follows him to the very back office, with the same pale white walls as the front but with an exam table off to one side, and a mahogany desk at the far end. Behind it are plants, and neatly lined certificates and degrees. Remus leans back against the front of it, hands in his pockets and ankles crossed. 

“Close the door,” he nods his head and Regulus does, standing stiffly in front of it. Remus arches a brow and waits.

His carefully crafted self-assurance flings itself out the window as Regulus grapples for something to say in the face of this man, so well put together and crisp. He’s had his fingers in your ass and his dick in your mouth for Merlin’s sake, get your shit together Reg, He internally scolds himself. 

“Are you okay? When I talked to James earlier, he said...” 

“I’m fine,” Regulus says too quickly, hands twisting in the front of his shirt. Remus follows the movement with keen eyes. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“My workplace is hardly the place to discuss your brother’s behaviour.” He waves a hand in the air. 

“Je ne veux pas parler de mon frère.” (I don’t want to talk about my brother.) Regulus snaps, slinking forward. 

Remus is calm even as he watches him come closer with a wary expression. When Regulus is near, only a foot between them, Remus breathes out, “Why are you here, darling?” 

It heats his blood, the term of endearment that slips from Remus’s lips like honey. It reminds him that this walking wet dream wants him. Calls him the same sweet names he calls his boyfriend at home. 

“I’m here...” Regulus reaches out and drags nimble fingers along the white collar of Remus’s coat. “Because I want you.” 

Remus catches his hand, “Is that so?” 

He nods, and Remus jerks him closer. Regulus stumbles, nearly falls into the man who holds him a hand's grip away, eyeing his clothes once more.

Remus leans down, so that their lips nearly brush when he whispers, “Is that why you’re dressed like such a slut?”

Regulus raises an eyebrow when he coos, “You don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Remus shakes his head minutely. 

He feels Remus' fingers, the pads of them pressing against his lower lip and smearing the gloss across his cheek. It’s sticky when he pulls it away and tastes it from his thumb. “Strawberry?” 

“Oui,” Regulus breathes. He brings his free hand up between them, fingering underneath the belt buckle at Remus’s waist, and pulling the light blue fabric out, exposing warm skin that his fingers graze. 

“You are salacious. Practically indecent, darling. What’ve you got underneath this skirt, hmm?” Remus purrs, and his sticky fingers drop to the hem, lifting it inches up before slipping under and skimming up the inside of Regulus’s thigh. 

Regulus is pink with blush as he shivers from the contact. “Lace...” he confirms, even as Remus’s fingers brush against his crotch and he discovers it for himself.

Remus groans. His eyes close as he palms the fabric, hardly covering Regulus’s aching erection.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he breaths against the skin of Regulus’s cheek. Regulus whines, arching his hips for more contact. This earns him a slap to the inner thigh. 

“Patience,” Remus scolds. He removes his hand and smooths his skirt down, and Regulus can hardly contain another frustrated noise.

But Remus still has his hand, and he’s pulling him around the desk and sinking down into his chair there. He pulls Regulus down on his lap, position all too similar to the way he sat on Sirius last night, legs spread. Remus hikes the skirt up until it’s bunched at his waist, lace on display for the door which is, Regulus remembers now, unlocked. 

“I’m going to make a call,” Remus’s gruff voice gives him the warning as he releases Regulus’s hand and picks up his cell phone, unlocking it with his thumb print. His home screen is, no surprise, a picture of James and Sirius. They’re hugging, smiling for the camera like loons. It makes Regulus’s heart hurt a little, but he ignores it. “And you’re going to behave. You don’t speak unless spoken to, understand?” 

“Yes,” Regulus gasps, confused and turned on and struggling more than a little already to hold still as the cold, air conditioned breeze of the office teases his bare thighs.

His response earns him another small slap to his thigh. “Yes, what?” 

“Yes sir.” Regulus whimpers. Remus soothes his fingers over the stinging skin. 

“Good boy, so good. Hush now.” Remus nuzzles his ear, silent suggestion for Regulus to turn his head and so he does. 

He bites his lip, focusing on the smooth rub of fingers as he listens to the dial tone. 

“Amant,” He hears his brother answer, “Checking up on me again? You called an hour ago.” Regulus is inherently hard to startle, but this does it. He tries to slam his thighs together, to push himself off of Remus’s lap but the older man doesn’t release him.

Keeps him spread there as he answers, “Yes, and I’ll call as many times as I please. But, this time, it’s because I have a question.” 

“Oh... What is it?” Sirius asks. Regulus is breathing hard, trying not to squirm. This was not how this was supposed to go. Remus was supposed to bend him over the desk and fuck him not call his brother to tattle. 

“Are you Blacks simply bred to be chaotic, frustrating little creatures?” Remus uses that tone again, that purr, like he’s amused and not all that upset. Regulus, if possible, blushes harder.

There’s a moment of silence before Sirius answers, “...What do you mean, Moony? Has Reg done something? James said he was still in bed when I asked.” 

Sirius asked about him? Odd, considering that even if he was still in bed, his brother would be the undeniable cause of his less than joyous state. 

“Hmm... then James,” Remus’s hand comes up to cup Regulus’s dying erection, digging his palm in harshly, “Is a lying little liar who lies,” he nips at Regulus’s ear, making him whimper into the receiver of the phone. “Because I have your pesky little brother, dressed in only God knows whatever this skirt is, in my lap, in my office, Sirius, dear. And I’m sure you can see how that might pose an issue for me?” 

Regulus thinks he hears Sirius choke on the other end of the receiver, and then he’s spewing French so fast that even Regulus has a hard time keeping up. 

“Il est quoi? Quoi! En jupe? Dans votre... Regulus, à quoi jouez-vous? Quel bordel! Lâche-toi de lui! À quoi penses-tu?! Moony, donne-lui le téléphone! Non, je m'en fiche, donne-le-lui! Putain maintenant!” (He's what? What! In a skirt? In your... Regulus, what are you playing at? What the fuck! Get off of him! What are you thinking?! Moony, give him the phone! No, I don't care, give it to him! Right fucking now!)

“Siri...” Regulus whimpers when the phone is pressed to his ear. 

“Get off of him,” Sirius growls, no preamble. Remus chuckles behind Regulus, squeezing him again. He’s restrained, not given permission to move, but Remus said he could answer if he was spoken to, so... 

“So you can’t touch me, and now neither can Remus?” Regulus manages, and he hears the speaker button being pressed.

“See what I’m dealing with, Sirius?” Remus sounds so fucking playful and Regulus is fuming because he didn’t come here to be used as a pawn for the two of them to flirt. “He has such an attitude problem. Now, I’m more than happy to assist with some corrections, but I would like your permission first, darling.”

“Permission,” Sirius deadpans. 

“Mm.” 

“Permission to... correct his attitude?” Sirius’s voice has gone deadly quiet. There’s a ripping sound, or maybe... maybe a pull of a zipper, from through the receiver. 

“Blanket permission would be nice, dear, but if you’d like for me to simply teach him some manners, I am more than happy to.” 

Regulus twitches as Remus’s hand squeezes once more and then stills on his groin, waiting for Sirius to answer. 

“...What's he wearing?” Sirius finally asks. Regulus’s mouth drops open, and then automatically closes because his brother isn’t talking to him. 

Remus’s ankles kick Regulus’s out, spreading his legs further. “Would you like to see?” 

Regulus expects Sirius to decline. Especially after last night. He expects more yelling in French. He’s preparing for an explosion, for a fight, to possibly have caused a riff in their relationship. He is readying to be kicked out of this office, dishevelled and erection still partially exposed. He’s not ashamed of himself, or embarrassed, but oh, this rejection will hurt.

He’s so lost in his own projections of everything that is about to go extremely bad for him, imagining returning to James with tail tucked between legs, that he almost entirely misses the softly gasped “Please,” that echoes through the phone in his brother’s voice.

Remus leans them forward to set the phone against a picture frame on his desk. Regulus’s own image covers the photo of the dog as Remus switches on his camera and leans back again, holding Regulus on display for his brother, who accepts the video call. 

Nobody even asks him if he’s okay with posing lewdly for his brother after he so cruelly sent him back to a place worse than the friend-zone last night. He supposes that's fair, considering the way he didn’t ask Remus if it was okay to show up and proposition him. And anyway, Regulus will take the attention. He craves it, thought he would earn it with this spiteful plan, just hadn’t imagined it would go like this.  

He isn’t ready for the angle at which Sirius holds the phone. Low, like he’s leaning over a counter. He can see his face, his chest, the arm that dips below the camera view suggestively. “Oh...” Regulus gasps, because his brother is just so... fuck, so fucking gorgeous. It's unfair how hot he looks when he's angry. And Regulus is supposed to be mad at him right now, but all he can do is wonder why Sirius isn’t shutting this down, if it’s so wrong. Why he wants to see it.

He leans back against Remus, doesn’t fight when the man's hand slips under his t-shirt and tugs it up to expose his waist. He watches Sirius as that arm, with that hidden hand, moves slowly up and down. He’s touching himself, Regulus realises. 

“Fuck, Reg...” Sirius breathes. “Why are you doing this?” 

“To hurt you.” It’s only partially a lie. 

He sees Sirius’s throat bob. 

"Does it hurt?" Regulus's voice is a red wine, soft and sweet, Slip me down your throat, Siri. 

"Yesss," Sirius hisses out through his teeth, arm moving faster.

“So?” Remus calls smoothly, as that same hand on his skin pulls the shirt up until his fingers brush the sensitive buds on Regulus’s chest. His hips jerk, just a little, but he knows Sirius sees it. “Do I have your permission?” 

“You're in your office, Moony,” Sirius cries, eyes slamming shut. 

“I think I'll have him over my desk. Permission, darling. Yes or no?” 

Yes, yes, say yes, please! Regulus is mewling at the way Remus pulls at his nipple. He's aching now, cock weeping and wetting the front of the lace under Remus's palm. 

Sirius’s head drops with a thunk onto whatever it is he’s leaning over. He's breathing harshly as he groans, “Oui! yes! Blanket permission. I’m picking him up in twenty, be done by then.” 

The phone goes dead, call reduces to show Remus’s home screen once more, and Remus wastes no time. He is all fast action, no nonsense as he moves Regulus with ease, bending him forward over the desk and shoving the skirt up at the back, too. 

Regulus’s palms land flat, saving his face from a direct hit. “Shouldn’t you call James and ask for his permission, too, Remus?” he teases. 

It earns him a solid smack on the ass that makes him gasp while Remus pulls the lace down off of his backside. “I assume that since your boyfriend lied to mine, he knows exactly where you are right now. Am I wrong, Regulus?” Remus’s hand finds his hair and tugs, making his chin scrape against the wood. 

“No, sir.” 

Remus thumbs at his hole, leaning forward to spit. “Spread your legs.” Regulus spreads them readily.

Fingers enter him harshly, aiming right for that spot with little warning and it has Regulus throbbing where he is squished against the sharp edge of the desk. “Eighteen minutes,” Regulus grits out, as if he was counting. “Surely you can spare a couple to not hurt me?” As if he cares about the sting.

Remus lets go of his hair to slip his hand under Regulus’s stomach, lower still until his fingers brush the wet head of him leaking a mess. He thumbs at his prick, presses against that sensitive spot and says confidently, “You like the hurt, darling, so why are you complaining?”

Regulus moans, doesn’t really know why he can’t seem to shut up but he continues on, “Fuck me, hurt me more if you think I like it so much.”

Remus’s fingers move inside him harshly, almost like he’s slipped and then the fingers on his prick find their way up and around his jaw and into his eagerly open mouth. He’s practically swallowing them down, the taste of himself on his tongue. "I intend to..."

When Regulus figures out how to breathe around them, he hollows his cheeks and sucks.

“But if you bite me,” Remus growls, “I will treat you like a feral animal and restrain you next time.”

Regulus wants to bite. Wants to graze his teeth along knuckles and bone until he tastes blood. His hips hitch forward at the threat, like it’s a challenge. He wants to tell Remus that he’s no stranger to restraints. Wants to beg him very, very nicely to tie him up so tight that the ropes leave pretty marks on his skin. Marks Regulus would’ve asked for.

He doesn’t though, because they’ve probably got less then fifteen minutes left now, and he feels Remus’s fingers leave him seconds before the clank of a belt buckle and the tug of a zipper. Regulus expects a cock in his ass, but what he feels instead is fingers gently lifting the back of his shirts. Regulus tries to buck away, but can't because of the rich mahogany he's pressed against.

"Non," he whispers, panicked.

"Shh, shh," Remus hushes, and his tone is so much softer than his treatment thus far. There is no pity, no condescension or disgust in his tone. "Darling, please, look at me..." 

Regulus does his best to turn his head. He can't really see anything except the expanse of Remus's arm. The arm which is mostly covered by his sleeves, save one little inch of skin near his wrist, mottled by another thin, white scar.

"I am the very last person to look at the marks on your back and be any less aroused by you. Relax, baby..." He cajoles, and Regulus just... does. He takes a deep breath, body draining of rigidity. 

"Okay... okay, yeah..."

Remus's fingers trail up along with the pull of Regulus's shirt, and he doesn't linger around his scars, except to brush them purposely as his hand comes back down to his ass, but the touch makes Regulus shiver. When he feels the man lean down, and place one of those soft, adoring kisses on the raised skin, tears leak from his eyes unbidden. 

It's like the kiss he saw Sirius get in the bathroom. Like the one he got after. It's a reminder of affection, before or after submission, and Regulus earning one before he is fucked makes him weak for Remus in a way that buckles his knees. Steals his breath. Reminds him of James. One swift, harsh thrust later has Remus stretching him open. 

Regulus’s scream is muffled, thankfully, by the hand filling his mouth. Tears flow freely from his eyes now and his arse is on fucking fire but Remus isn’t moving behind him. He’s bent over his back with a hand flat on the desk next to Regulus’s. 

His veins stick out from the effort to stay still. Harsh breath heats the back of his ear, "Fuuuck darling... You're so fucking tight." 

Regulus moans. When the room stops spinning and the threat of losing consciousness passes, Regulus moves his hand over, entwining their pinkies together.

Remus’s hand clenches, and then that thick spear that has him wet and full and open is grinding into him, desperate for purchase deeper. The desk is solid, it doesn’t rattle or move as Remus fucks into him with wildly controlled thrusts. 

He is quite literally standing on his toes, held in place only by the thick fingers on his tongue. Remus’s body, heavy against his back, holds him still as his hips do all of the work, and it squishes his dick just a smidgen past pleasurable but Regulus doesn’t care because it feels so good to take what Remus gives.

It's long minutes of rushed abandon but oh, is it sweet. His blood is heated and he watches that fucking door because they still didn't lock it. He hopes, actually, that maybe his brother will take less than twenty minutes and get to enjoy the show they're putting on because Regulus can imagine how it must look for Remus to be smothering him in his pretty clothes and rutting into him like he's running down a clock. 

"James," Remus gasps, "was fucking right. So right. Oh, you are so good, baby."

He can’t move, he can’t talk, he can’t come but Remus can, and he doesn't stop praising him as he spills inside. It’s brutal, the harsh fuck of his cock in and out until he’s all rung out and empty, and Regulus is so much more full then he thought he could be. It starts to drip before Remus has even pulled out, because he’s too busy tugging Regulus’s whole body up by his mouth. 

Upright like this, Remus’s cock reaches further inside of him as his fingers slips out or his mouth and his head is turned, where a tongue replaces them. It’s messy, he’s always so messy after someone uses him, but Regulus likes it this way. As disastrous on the outside as he feels on the inside, except when he's like this, because this blissful, lusty haze has him so calm.

“Thank you, sir,” he moans, because Remus seems the type to appreciate it. 

A harsh slap on his ass cheek takes him by surprise, a recurring theme with Remus that Regulus finds so fucking refreshing. 

“Is it polite to interrupt someone’s workday, Regulus?” 

“N-no,” he cries out.

“Does it say anything good about your character that you thought to fuck your brother’s boyfriend, without his knowledge or consent, just because he hurt your feelings?” Another slap, to the other cheek, and then fingers rubbing away the sting. 

“Ummm...” Regulus shakes his head, “Non, no, Sir.”

Remus’s hand squeezes the flesh of his cheek. “Do you understand why I asked him first?” 

Regulus feels like he might cry, his high being soured by reprimand. Regulus just wants to fly, but instead he's crashing down. “B-because he’s your boyfriend. And I’m...” Regulus starts to cut himself down. To fold himself in, to hide away, to say “I’m not, I’m nothing”, but Remus doesn’t let him get there. 

“And you very well could be, too. I want this to work, which it won't, if you’re determined to be a vindictive little shit every time your brother overthinks, because I’ll warn you now, he never stops doing that, so I need you to give this act up. Do you hear me?”

Oh...

Regulus does.

He hears him.

Loud and clear, and he isn’t enough, he doesn’t know how. He shakes his head, “I can’t...” 

“You can’t what, Regulus?” Remus demands, and it’s so unfair, so debasing the way he’s going to make him say it.

“I can’t be your boyfriend. I can’t give up the act because it isn’t an act, I just have nothing else to give, and even if I did, I don’t know how to give it,” The confession comes out quiet, choked. “All I do it take... Just ask James. He knows.” 

Remus’s hold on him, the arm around his chest now, squeezes. It’s neither the swat to his ass or the shove away that he had been rigidly expecting. “What is it that James knows?”

“That I'm selfish.” 

There are lips on his throat, the soft presses of repeated kisses that makes him blush. Makes him worry that tears really will spill. 

“Is that what you think, that you give nothing to those around you?” Remus asks him quietly.

“I know it,” Regulus confirms sullenly.

“What was this, then?” Remus’s hips grind slowly up, reminding Regulus that he is still deeply inside of him. 

“Me taking your... time, your attention... taking y-your dick, taking...” Regulus starts to mutter his confusion, but he’s quieted by the firm press of Remus’s lips on his again. It’s an awkward angle that pulls at the tendons of his neck, but he doesn’t mind because it stills his shaking for a moment.

“You took my dick so well...” Remus confirms, and Regulus knows he did, because it’s what he’s good at, but Remus isn’t finished.

“But you gave me things in abundance, darling.” 

“W-what?” Regulus whimpers.

“You gave me your body...”

Another slow grind into him.

“You gave me your trust.”

Remus’s chest rubs against the exposed skin of Regulus’s back. 

“You gave me pleasure.” Lips, on his again, and then a firm hand is tipping his chin and Remus is making him look, really look at him when he says, “You gave me your submission.”

Regulus swallows hard. 

Remus leans in, kisses him again and it’s so soft. So sweet. So... 

“You gave me your affection. From the moment that you stepped inside this room, you gave the parts of you that you could, and the only one between us who is selfish is me, because I ache for more of you darling. But I can be patient, too, and I can wait for you to feel ready, if you promise me that you will try.” 

Regulus has made this promise once. Realises, in this moment as he is dizzy with shock and blush and... something sugary sweet... that he can make it again. Wants to make it again, to Remus.

“I promise to try, sir.”

Remus’s hand rubs and soothes the skin he reddened, an acceptance. Regulus’s dick is still hard, hanging heavily out in front of him. He’s untouched and needy but all he feels is warm when Remus says sternly, “I will hold you to that. And you will force the same promise from your brother’s lips. You will make him apologise for hurting you, before you give him the same. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir...” He breathes it out through clenched teeth, no fingers crossed. 

Another soft kiss feeds this dark little corner inside of him, letting it grow and sharpen and stretch like a plaster over the jagged edges inside Regulus’s chest with something worrisome, something unfamiliar. Something like hope. Something not so dark at all.

“Do you feel better now?” Remus breathes into his ear, tone softer. 

“Yes.” He whispers, because despite the ache, despite the scary feelings he harbours, despite the affection bubbling in his stomach and making him feel sick for this gorgeous man, he really does. He means it.  

Remus has him cleaned up with minutes to spare, and when his brother bursts in it's to find them both leaning against his desk. Remus has his arms around Regulus's shoulders, while Regulus leans in and lets Remus pet a hand through his hair. His eyes are shut, but he hears the door, knows it's his brother and so he grumbles, "Here to interrupt another wonderful massage, Sirius?" 

Regulus looks up to find Remus and Sirius in silent conversation, all heated looks. 

Remus's eyes saying, "I love you, but I won't let you hurt him." 

And Sirius's plea, "I was only ever trying not to." 

Or at least, that's what Regulus wants to hear from it. Remus releases him with a last kiss to his forehead, pushing him gently forward. "I'll see you both for dinner, yes?" 

Regulus opens his mouth to object on behalf of his clearly disgruntled brother, but Sirius beats him to answering. 

"Yes love." He tosses a bundle of fabric, previously unnoticed, to Regulus. "Put those on." 

When Regulus lets the fabric slip loosely from his fingers, he realises they're sweatpants.

He blushes, feeling like a teenager being told to cover up, but he puts them on anyway to avoid starting their (possible?) reconciliation off with an argument. They're long, and fall into big bunches at his ankles, but his legs are hidden. 

"Better?" He asks as he gestures down and looks up at Sirius. 

Sirius is frowning. He shakes his head and his tone is rueful when he says, "Can't have your pretty legs catching windburn, Reggie." 

“Windburn?”

“I’ve got my bike.” Sirius points his thumb backwards, and it’s then that Regulus realises the pants his brother is wearing, slightly thicker like they’re meant for the snow, and tucked into boots.

“Oh... but my car...” Regulus stutters.

“Won’t get towed or anything. It’s fine to leave it here, right Moony?”

Regulus feels Remus nod. 

“Great. Good. Come along then.” Sirius bounds over to kiss Remus on the cheek and then he reaches out to grab Regulus’s hand. 

Before their fingers touch he pauses, meeting Regulus’s eyes timidly. Regulus gives him the smallest of smiles, and reaches the rest of the way, letting their hands connect. 

Sirius swallows hard, tugs him outside (passing by Cassy, the cranky receptionist, whom Regulus throws a salute and a smug smile towards) and Regulus gets the ride of his life, fast and cold and heart pumping... on Sirius’s motorcycle.

They end up at his flat, and Regulus is preparing his “No, you’re not scolding me and saying goodbye like this” speech while Sirius undoes the helmet he’s wearing, but he doesn’t need it, because as soon as it’s off, Sirius is leaning his forehead against his brother’s and mumbling, “Take me inside, Reggie.” 

Sirius leads him back to Regulus’s bedroom with a firm grip still in his hand. Regulus’s head is swimming excitedly with possibilities until Sirius sits on the edge of the bed, pulls him to stand between his legs and says, “Your top, Reg, take it off.” 

Regulus freezes. “Non, Siri...” 

Sirius hushes him with hands under the edges of the fabric, cool fingers tickling his skin. “Please... I need to see.” 

Regulus surveys the worried lines of his brothers face. So much like his own, but with subtle differences. A thinner pout, a longer jaw line, thicker brows. He’s lovely, his brother. So lovely. Regulus realises he wants him to see. To get past the fear. 

His arms come down around himself, and with the help of Sirius’s hands guiding him, he pulls the flannel and the shirt off in one go, leaving his chest bared. Sirius’s hands slide around to his back and up, feeling the rigid expanse with hesitant fingers.

Regulus squeezes his eyes closed when Sirius finds one of the worst ones, a large, round and raised scar, and gasps. His brother slowly, so fucking slowly, turns him around, and Regulus opens his eyes to stare at his dresser while Sirius looks his fill at the land mine of assaults Regulus wears.

“Reggie...” Sirius chokes out. “Baby... I’m so fucking sorry.” It sounds like he’s crying. Regulus thinks he might start, too. 

He bites down on his lip, shaking his head. “Don’t... I... You took the punishments for me for years, Sirius, I deserved this...” 

The hand on his waist tightens. “Don’t you dare say that. No child deserves to be treated like this. This... This looks like...” 

“Like I was a war prisoner?” Regulus jokes, if only to calm his beating heart. Sirius is unimpressed.

“It looks like she was trying to kill you.” 

“She was, I think. She did.” Regulus turns around to steal the view of his pain from his brother. His brother, whose cheeks are wet with tears.

“It’s all my fault. I should never have left you there. I thought... I thought you’d be safe, with me gone.” 

Regulus reaches up to cup his brother’s face. “Safe from her, Sirius? There was no such thing.” 

Sirius shakes his head. His eyes fall closed, tears squeezing out from under the pale lids. “Safe from me.” 

Regulus’s breath leaves him harshly, like he’s been punched in the stomach. “She made you feel like you deserved it, too...” 

“I thought I was a monster for the way I felt about you, Reggie.” I still do, Regulus hears in the silence before Sirius continues, “I thought she only hurt me because she could sense it. This sickness in me, because the love I felt for you... It wasn’t normal. It didn’t feel normal.” 

“What did it feel like?” Regulus whispers. What does it feel like, now?

Sirius shakes his head, remorse thick in his tone. “It felt like obsession. The way I only ever thought of you. Where is Reggie, What is Reggie doing, how is Reggie feeling... Like possession. Because I wanted to be near you, always. Touch you, everywhere. All the time. Have you, in every way I could and never let anyone else.” 

Regulus listens, holding his breath as his heart screams “He loved you in all of the ways that you loved him!”. 

“You felt...” Sirius’s head tilts forward, thunking against Regulus’s chest. “You felt like mine. ”

“...And now?” 

Sirius groans, “You feel the same... You feel... like the world will cease to exist around me if I have you. Like it will end, if I don’t.”

“I am yours to have.” Regulus repeats the words that spilled from his mouth before, sternly this time. He needs Sirius to really hear him. 

His brother looks up at him through thick, wet lashes, with red rimmed, glossy eyes. “Will you still give yourself to me now, petite étoile (little star)?” 

“If you promise to keep me,” Regulus breathes, all wide eyes and hope. 

“I promise.” It falls from his brother's lips quickly, resolutely, a benediction. 

Regulus gives himself over wholly. 

It is holy, the way his brother worships him, like their coming together is a religious rite by which Sirius may pledge himself over the altar beneath him.

He drinks Regulus in like the blood of Christ himself, takes vows with his lips on his skin to try, to love, to keep him, and Regulus gives himself over to his brother's hands, his teeth and tongue, his prayers. 

He lays himself out and beckons him in, beckons him closer, forgives him each time that his brother asks for it. He feels as though his room has become a confessional, but Regulus has forgone the hail Mary’s and the wall between them in favour of wiping the stain of sin away from his brother’s skin himself.

Forgiveness is earned, and Sirius earns it with each of his thrusts, with each of his kisses, each of his promises. 

Regulus pulls him in with arms around his shoulders, head thrown back wantonly and Sirius presses their foreheads together and makes sounds that send shivers down his spine. He feels the moment that the remorse that prompted their union falls away to catharsis, to bliss. 

Hears it in Sirius’s voice when he accepts that he is forgiven, and gives himself over to this new religion. “Can you feel how deep I am inside of you?” 

“Yes!” Regulus cries, arching his hips up further. 

“I’m going to plant my seed here, baby,” Sirius pants, “Breed you full of it. You’ll never be empty of me again.” 

“Omigod,” He pants, pleasure building as his cock is pressed and rubbed between them. Sirius’s hand finds it and tugs, squeezes, makes his muscles clench with a thumb just under the head. 

“You are mine,” Sirius pants, “Le mien pour toujours.” (Mine forever.) It’s everything Regulus has wanted. It’s an answer to his prayers. 

Regulus repeats the sentiment, babbles the words “Yours, yours, yours.” 

“I’m going to soil you.” He growls, “Dirty you up, cover you in so much of me that you can’t remember ever being clean.” 

He can’t take much more. Regulus is overflowing with need, he would beg if he could make words come out of his mouth but he can’t. He can only keen and moan and thrust his hips as Sirius ruts into him and moves his hand around his length.  

Sirius presses their mouths together, a dirty kiss of spit before he steals those lips away to find Regulus’s ear and groan, “And then you’re going to fuck your cock into me, split me open and lay your claim there too. You are mine and I am yours. Always. Toujours pur.” 

Regulus screams when he comes, a loud and broken sound that is ripped from his chest as he paints them both sticky and wet. Sirius’s hips stutter, slam into him once, twice, three times, milking more sticky fluid from his prick by pressing against the sensitive spot inside of him until he spills. “I would kill her, that bitch, if she wasn’t already dead.” 

He doesn’t know where he pulls the long buried truth from. He doesn’t know how it slips out so easily, so joyfully, but he takes pride in the glow of shock and awe on his brother's face when he admits, “I did it for you.”

 Sirius shoots his load, it mixes with fluids from his boyfriend earlier, and Regulus feels bloated by the fullness. 

Feels baptised in this happiness. Feels new. 

Sirius collapses against him, a heavy and reassuring weight that grounds Regulus, but he can’t quite come down from the place he’s floating because Sirius still has his hand around his prick. Is still moving. 

“Fuck. Fuck, Siri,” Regulus whines. 

“Mmm.” The sound from his brother's mouth vibrates the sensitive skin of his neck.

He squirms underneath him, trying to pull his hips away from the glide of skin. It aches, but he has nowhere to go, trapped as he is. 

His cock tingles, it jerks, “It hurts!” he gasps as Sirius shows him no mercy. 

“Ung, uh, uh, please, pleaseeeee,” he cries, nails digging into Sirius’s shoulders.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” Sirius reassures him as his hand moves faster. He’s dragging another orgasm out of the pits of oversensitivity, threatening to spill painful streams of slick from his tip. “Want to hear more of those sounds you make.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Regulus chants, voice high and shrill. 

“Give me more, petite étoile (little star),” Sirius demands, and Regulus is helpless but to do so, but to give . He covers his brothers hand with a second load of slick as his brother covers his mouth and fucks his tongue down his throat. Unforgiving, this kiss, in the way the words that follow it choke him up.

“Merci, mon amour.” (Thank you, my love.)

*

They need to talk, Regulus knows. Sirius knows this, too, and was quite effectual in stalling, which is how they found themselves at dinner without having discussed a single important fucking thing. 

A careful manoeuvering of topics, avoided with flirtatious words and heated looks between the two couples that lands them in this precarious position after their stomachs have settled and drinks have been downed.

The lounge of Sirius and James’s flat is tidy and modest and so it’s a cosy sharing of spaces and breaths and Regulus who is being passed between the three men under him to jokingly determine who kisses the best.

He leaves James’s lap in a fit of giggles, because his boyfriend is being sloppy and lazy with his tongue and after a couple of frustrated huffs from Regulus, because he can do better than that, he gives up all together and starts to tickle him. 

He plops down, a slutty throw of his hips, into Sirius’s lap. His brother pushes a lock of hair behind his ear, grazing the skin there with his finger tips before pulling him in. "Amour." ("sweetheart.") He’s gentle as he kisses Regulus, it’s a timid share of flat tongues which leaves him breathless despite the fact that Regulus knows that this kiss is modest in comparison to what he was given in his bed earlier. He playfully declares Sirius a solid 7 out of 10, which earns him a bitten bottom lip, and then he’s being lifted and deposited in Remus’s lap.

Remus has no such qualms about PDA, and he is all seriousness when he kisses him, the complete opposite of James’s jovially locking of lips just then. He pulls Regulus into a kiss that he leads, tongues dancing, holding Regulus still and stealing his air. Relentless, this man, and so fucking sexy about it. 

“Ten. Total fucking ten.” He gasps when he’s allowed to breath again, earning him a chuckle from Remus and indignant groans from the other two. 

“Fuck me.” His tone drips with lust, more of a swear then a command and then he asks, “Do you want to fuck me again?” as he circles his hips suggestively against Remus’s core. 

Remus gives him a mischievous grin. “Eager, are we?” 

“Yes,” Regulus wastes no time in admitting. 

“I don’t want to fuck you again, Regulus.” Remus shakes his head, and Regulus pouts because he’s a little too tipsy on all of the attention to feel self conscious, he knows there’s a but coming. 

Remus wraps his fingers up in his hair and tilts his head to the side, so that his stare is aimed at James and his brother, who've decided to test out each other’s lips for themselves. “I want to watch them fuck you.”

Regulus’s eyes roll back at the way them sounds from Remus. It doesn’t sound like several rounds, each cock taking turns, no, it sounds like... 

“Do you think they’ll fit, hmm? Will you let them try?”

Oh, god.

“Yes sir...” Even though there’s no fucking way. Even though it will probably kill him. He wants to give Remus anything he asks for. And he can’t deny the way his stomach twists, his cock throbs with the mental image of his boyfriend and his brother working him open. Fucking him stupid. “Oh my god, yesss...” he hisses. He can see the tangle of Sirius and James’s tongues.

Sirius laughs against James’s mouth when James's tongue paints his lips in spit. They tug and pull at each other like children in a wrestling match, hands antsy and searching all parts of each other. If their lips weren’t locked, you’d swear that's what they were doing, play fighting.

Remus bites and tugs at Regulus’s ear as he watches. James goes for Sirius’s fly first, tugging it down harshly and Sirius lifts his hip, moving James easily as he tugs his pants down around his thighs. 

Sirius turns his hands attention to James then, doing the same until both of their cocks are out and they each have a hand on each other, rapidly blurring fingers. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck.” 

“James...” 

“Faster, Sirius...” 

“Boys...” Remus hums from beside them. They both pause, a Pavlovian response to the reprimand in his tone. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, I’d like for you to add one more to the mix.” He gestures to Regulus with a rub of his hand on his crotch.

“Of course, Reggie, come here.” Sirius reaches out his hand, but Remus shakes his head.

“Not out here. In a bed, please.” 

“Oh...” Sirius starts.

“My room?” James offers up at Sirius’s hesitance. 

The group makes their way there, but it is a slow movement of bodies because none are too eager to let go of each other. Remus’s mouth finds Sirius, even as his hands disrobe Regulus. James’s hands assist, tugging his pants off, nearly tripping him up as he does. His lips are an apology on Regulus’s cock when he finds it. 

Remus chooses the armchair in the corner to watch, stroking himself slowly as he watches Sirius lay his brother down across the bed. James finds the lube, eyes the condoms and then ignores them, closing the drawer and tossing the tube to Sirius. 

"You're so... are you sure?" James asks as he comes to lay beside him and kiss him good, kiss him deep as Sirius sets to work him open. 

"-'m sure,' he slurs. Careful fingers stretching him. One that makes him moan, two that makes him ache, three and he knows under normal circumstances he’d be more than ready, but in this case he’ll need four, and four... four makes him see fucking stars. 

“Doing so good Reggie, that’s it, big breath for me, yessss there you go, how does that feel, huh?” 

“Full!” Regulus gasps against James’s lips. 

“That’s right, you’re going to be so full, baby,” James praises.

He hears Sirius stroke himself with his free hand as he keeps his fingers, practically his whole hand inside of Regulus, still. “The things I want to do to you...” His brother groans. 

“He’ll let you,” Remus assures from his corner, not far but with a perfect view of the absolute depravity happening on James’s bed. 

They give him ample time. His body settles, even if his nerves refuse to. Sirius positions himself behind Regulus and slides himself in, fully sheathed with a gasp. It’s a weird sensation, to be stretched so thin and then for your muscles to shrink around less but then be worked open once again by one probing finger, then two until there’s more space than it feels like there should be in there. 

“Merde.” He hisses through clenched teeth when James pushes a wet finger in beside his brother’s.

Sirius thrusts a couple of times, slow and steady, and works his fingers out so that James's fingers can replace them. Sirius goes in, James’s fingers go out, they push and press inside and Regulus is a panting, sweating mess within minutes.

Remus must see him struggling, must see the lack of friction he can get because he suggests in a rough voice, “Sirius, darling, lay Reggie on top of you. Face up. Uh-huh, yeah, and James, you fit between his legs like... yessss...” 

The wet slap of a cock in hand speeds up. Regulus’s head hangs back against Sirius’s shoulder, and his brother's hands hold him still at his hips. 

“Is this okay? I’m not too heavy?” Regulus asks cautiously as he adjusts.

“Baby, you weigh nothing,” Sirius admonishes and when Regulus starts to insist that he must be squishing him Sirius grits out, “You feel too fucking good. Stop squirming or I’ll come.” 

This holds him still, because contrary to his sky rocketing anxiety, Regulus desperately wants to feel the both of him inside. Wants to please Remus, by letting them fit. 

“Okay...” he breathes out. 

“You think you’re ready, pretty thing?” James asks as he presses his fingers along that sensitive bundle of nerves, already overstimulated. 

“Fuck... Yes, yes Jamie...” 

“You tell me if you need to stop,” James reminds him as his fingers slip out and the head of his dick lines up with Regulus’s already-stuffed-full hole. 

He can’t fucking breath, can’t calm his beating heart, in no way shape, or form, can make the word “stop” fall out of his mouth, even as James slowly pushes inside of him and Regulus thinks briefly that they are really going to fucking kill him like this.

It’s too much, it’s too...

There’s a popping sensation as the first inch of his dick slips inside along Sirius's, and Regulus screams, but it’s a soundless exhalation of air. It burns, it feels wrong, it continues to feel wrong even as James meets little resistance from his lax body as he fits himself inside.

Remus groans harshly. “Fuck. That’s it.” 

Regulus feels little. He feels small. He feels full of things too large for his body. Things like acceptance and ownership and love. 

James leans over him and mashes their lips together in a whorish display of thanks, smothering the inhuman noises ripping themselves from his throat.

When James’s hips move back, and then grind forward, Regulus thinks he’ll lose himself to how right it all suddenly feels.

“Oh my god!” He yelps. 

Sirius’s fingers are tight enough to leave marks on his hips. When James is sheathed in him once more, Sirius pulls back and slams home. A harsh jerk of his hips that thrusts Regulus’s whole body upward. 

“Fuck. Omigod. James, I can’t...” Sirius cries out. Regulus can feel the throb of him, under James, inside of him so fully. 

James thrusts forward again, and the pain of the stretch is slowly being replaced as the two men around him find their rhythm inside of his body.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Regulus babbles, before he is reduced to wordless moans and cries. He’s coming, he realises, he can feel the pulsing and the jerking like a non-stop lightning strike of pleasure to his centre, and nothing comes out because Sirius had wrung him dry earlier and yet he can’t make it stop .

It’s a never ending wave of orgasm and Regulus’s vision is stolen from him. He can do nothing but hang limply, body twitching as they fuck into him, as they use him. 

“Faster,” Remus gasps the command, and James obediently moves. 

His boyfriend and his brother’s cocks glide together inside his slick heat, a fast beat of hips. 

“I’m gonna, I can’t, Remus please, s'il vous plaît, puis-je venir? (Please, can I come?)” Sirius cries out, hips stuttering, fucking up the pattern he and James had found in their thrusts but it doesn’t matter because it all feels too fucking good.

“Yes, yes, fuck!" Remus grunts the permission, and it sounds like he spills.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Sirius chants, and the slip and slide of them inside becomes hotter, wetter, more full. It's a commotion of movement after that, his boyfriend humping him deeply.

James collapses on top of Regulus, breath ragged against his neck as he slows, and Regulus realises that he must’ve found his pleasure soon after the sweet release of Sirius’s. 

The room goes startlingly quiet, besides the heavy breaths and laboured moans of the three men piled together. Neither of his lovers seems in a particular rush to pull away, but eventually James does let himself slip out. 

The sudden leak from Regulus’s hole is obscene. More so, when Remus, always intent on cleaning up a mess after its made, has his face there, licking it away before it can even touch the sheets.

Regulus lifts his head with a considerable amount of willpower, due to the way it feels heavy as bricks, to look. Remus’s eyes watch him from behind his deflated prick as his tongue teases and his lips suck him dry once more.

Tears prick at his eyes when those same lips find his soft shaft and tease there too, when James joins him, that fucker, but he doesn’t beg for mercy. Doesn’t have the words. 

His brother slips out from him too, but he holds Regulus open where he is with his heels. His lips are on his neck, his ear, his cheek, his hair. “So perfect, so good, that’s it, feel that?” 

Regulus isn’t sure whether his brother means the mess, or his prick rallying to harden, or the tongues or mouths on him, or his kisses, or his own hands on Regulus’s nipples now, pulling and twisting until he’s so fucking sore everywhere. 

“Do you feel it?” His brother asks again, words slow and lazy but insistent in his ear.

Regulus digs deep, finds two little words in the recesses of his body where too much of everything is trying to pry another orgasm from somewhere dry, somewhere inside his fucking bones. Like they refuse to leave any part of him hollow. “Feel what?” he manages.

He’s sure he isn’t conscious, slipping deep into darkness at the suggestion of warm bodies around him, numbness claiming his limbs and leaking from his prick, when he hears the voice of god him-fucking-self purr, in syrupy saccharine French, “Love, baby.” 

Chapter Text

Regulus awoke overheated, sandwiched in between James, who he’d fallen asleep with as the little spoon, and his brother, clothed in soft pajamas with a long arm around his waist and breathing into Regulus’s face, who must’ve snuck in some time during the night. 

It was a prickly sense of nostalgia, this morning. To watch Sirius sleep after a night of orgasmic bliss and to feel his body lax and supple as it curled around his own. He hadn’t gotten this view as a child, had only come close, but now that he’d had it, more than once, he was intent upon keeping it. Upon never going without it again. 

“Love, baby”, His brain sang to him under the quiet pitter patter of rain on the windows. 

If it’s love, please stay. 

If it’s love, please let me love you back.

If it’s love.. Please let me do it right. 

With gentle fingers he traced the soft line of his sleeping brother’s jaw, careful not to wake him with his touch. Regulus wanted to stay in this moment, hazy around the edges of sleep, for a while longer. He let himself enjoy the scent of peppermint, crisp but smooth, not harsh like menthols, breathing it in deep and wishing he could keep it there inside of him. Wanted a taste. Was allowed to have one, now. 

He leant forward just an inch, just enough for the barely-there graze of lips. Lightning cracked the sky outside, brightened the dim room for a second. 

Sirius’s arm around him tightened, a whine escaping and tingling the skin of Regulus’s jaw. Seconds passed where his brother’s body remained tense against him, and then thunder boomed, shaking the walls around them.

Another whine, the press of his body closer. A more aware nuzzle against Regulus’s chin. “Reggie..” 

“Shh, shh,” Regulus hushes, aware of James still dozing against his back, “I’m here. I’m here. It’s just a storm.” 

“Reggie, baby..” Sirius whines again, but a different kind. Less fear and more of something sultry, something.. needy. His brother’s leg presses into his own, nudging, and Regulus lets it slip between. A knee pressed against his crotch, erection pressed against thigh. 

Regulus smooths his fingers into the skin, no longer the hovering touch, to indulge in the warmth as he pushes long strands of wild black hair behind Sirius' ear, out of his eyes. His hand comes around to cup the back of his brother’s neck and pull him in more solidly, lips pressing together in the timidness of morning kisses.

He tastes his brother’s mouth, lazily and without breath between them, a barely there suckle of lips against lips until his brother’s tongue darts out to tease his bottom one. 

When in Paris, do as the French do, or whatever that saying is.. Regulus invites his brother’s tongue in like a long lost love. He supposes he is. He opens his mouth and lets Sirius drink his fill.

He’s hardly noticed the gentle rocking of hips until the soft fabric of his brother’s pants brushes against his prick, stinging the skin there. His brother’s own member is pressed in and squished below Sirius’s belly button as he seeks purchase against his thigh.

“You’re insatiable,” Regulus chuckles under his breath, fingers twisting more securely in Sirius’s hair. 

“How can I not be, with your body naked against me?” Sirius hushes through his kisses, “I have fantasized about every way in which I would like to have you, open and willing and mine .” 

Regulus whimpers, the harsh static of clothing a reminder of how thoroughly he was had just hours ago. 

“Siri..” He whimpers, but his brother cuts him off with another soft thrust of his hips. It’s a hurt he tries to stomach, even as his back arches away from the sensation. 

Sirius’s hands find Regulus’s and pull them up, locked above his head against the soft pillows. The press of him is insistent as Sirius rolls them just so, nudging James who grumbles in that pre-wake voice that sends shivers down Regulus’s  spine. 

“Let me have you,” Sirius purrs along the column of Regulus’s throat. Regulus wants to be had, wants to give, but his body protests, it wont rally, skin red with irritation from too much use still. 

“Siri, I can’t..” Regulus whimpers. 

“Mm.. but you can..” Sirius grumbles, thrusts again, blind to the ways in which his brother is truly uncomfortable because Regulus has a bad habit of encouraging the overstimulation that his partners love to torture him with. But this time he means it, he really cannot, his body needs a breather.

“No, Sirius.. It really hurts this time..” 

James, from beside him, mumbles, “Safe word, pretty thing..”, It’s a low warning, under his breath and in Regulus’s ear and he knows that Sirius didn’t hear the suggestion.

Half asleep and yet his boyfriend finds the frayed edges of his mind and pulls on the strings, saving him from his own self destructive desires to please that make his objections come out breathy and soft. 

Sirius grips his wrists in one hand, long fingers keeping him secure while his other glides down Regulus’s body. Just as it cups his flaccid prick and freezes, Regulus coughs out, “Red, please stop, I can’t..” 

Sirius’s hands leave him, and he sits up against Regulus’s thighs with his palms up. “I’m sorry, S’il te plait , fuck, I’m sorry.” He gasps. 

Regulus brings his hands down onto his brother's knees, rubbing up and around in soothing circles. “It’s okay. It’s okay, don’t be sorry, I’m just.. too sensitive. Right now.” 

Regulus blushes hard when his brother glances down, understanding dawning on his handsome face. True to Sirius’s wild fashion, his teeth sink down into his bottom lip to stifle a giggle. 

Regulus groans, releasing his legs to cover his face. “Shut up, tais-toi, tu es si méchant!  (shut up, you’re so mean!)

Sirius’s chest rumbles with the laughter he holds in. “I’m sorry. It’s just.. You’re just so cute!” 

Sirius’s fingers come down to rub teasingly along the softness of his prick and Regulus’s hip arch. He groans some more. “Fuck. Fuck off you horny fuck.” 

“Such crass language, baby,” James’s voice coos from beside him, and he turns his head to steal a glance between his fingers at him. 

He’s grinning sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. His curly hair is in dis-array, bare skin dull under the non existent lighting of the rainy morning. He is blessedly hard, hanging onto his thigh because he’s turned to the side. His hand drifts down to his crotch and rubs in an unconscious move. 

“You two are fucking monsters. Seriously, how do you have the energy?” Regulus grumbles. This seems to draw his brother’s attention to his boyfriend, as excited to start the day as he is, and so Sirius moves off of him and onto James, leaning down to plant a wet kiss on his mouth. 

“Morning Prongs.” Ick , Regulus thinks of the nickname, apt and he understands the backstory but, does Sirius have to say it when they’re pressing their cocks together?

“Mm, Pads,” James laughs, “Been a while since I woke up to you like this. What’s the time?” 

Regulus watches as Sirius rubs himself, still clad in pants against James’s naked body now. “Just passed six.” 

“Where’s Moony?” James asks as he drags his hands down Sirius’s sides, pressing his thumb in between his ribs where he’s ticklish and making him jerk hard . 

“Woke up early so he could go home and shower before work.” Sirius answers as he shifts, allows James to sit up and then deposits himself firmer in his lap, arms thrown easily around James’s shoulders. His hands dig into the curly hair, and James tips his head back, allowing his friend access to his throat. 

Regulus props himself up on an elbow, keen to watch the display while the two men rut before him. “How often have you two?..” He hedges.

“Well we’ve known each other for eight years..” James starts, is cut off by a moan when Sirius bares his teeth. 

“So how did it start?”

“I started seeing Moony after that night with the deer,” Sirius reminds him humourously, “and James was hung up on Lily.” 

“Whose Lily?” Regulus asks warily. He isn’t sure he’s in a secure enough place in his relationship to hear about a past girl friend, but, he asked, so..

“Just a girl from Uni,” James answers, tone tight and sharp, like he’s trying to shut the conversation down.

“Oh, just a girl from Uni, huh?” Sirius bucks his hips playfully, teasing when he asks, “Is that why you were hung up on her for years? Two, two years, to be exact! Reggie, you would’ve loved her, she was such a spitfire! Red hair, brilliant mind, spicy-,”

“She was mean.” James huffs. He’s pulling Sirius out of his pajama pants, stroking the length of him and Regulus wonders if he’s now trying to just.. distract Sirius into not finishing his sentences, but this doesn’t deter his brother, who continues. 

“You like mean.” He points his thumb at Regulus, who pouts indignantly. 

“Anyway, she wasn’t all that great.” James grouses, fingers working around Sirius’s waist and dipping into the crevice between his ass cheeks. 

Sirius gasps, and then jokingly covers James’s ears to lean over to Regulus, plant a kiss on his forehead and whisper, “She broke his wittle heart,” in a goofy voice.

Sirius grins when James smacks his ass with a mutter, “I heard that. She did not.” 

“She did,” Sirius mouths at him, and James with his strong arms, picks his brother up and dumps him onto the mattress where he previously laid. 

James comes down on top of him as Regulus leans in and nuzzles his brother’s cheek, searching for comfort even as he asks for more, “How’d she break his heart?” 

“Poor Jamie here,” Sirius starts, and is cut off when James fingers him open insistantly. Regulus doesn’t know whether his boyfriend is so much more rushed with Sirius than he is with him because he’s trying to shut him up, or if they just know each other differently. Perhaps, arguably, better.

“He tried everything to win her over. Went all hearts and flowers, recite-shakespeare-out-your-windows on her.” James covers his mouth with a bruising kiss as he thrusts his hips, once, twice, shallowly until Sirius’s grunting stops and then he sheaths himself inside. 

Sirius rips away to grin at Regulus, pulling him in so that their foreheads are pressed together when he says, hushed, “Crushed his dreams hard when she screamed at him in front of the entire mess hall that she just 'didn't fucking want him!'.” 

Regulus gasps. His heart hurts for his boyfriend, who he can see out of the corner of his eye is red with embarrassment even as he fucks into Sirius at a punishing pace. 

Sirius bumps his nose against Regulus’s when he asks, “So how did you three..” 

“Mm, well, Jamie came running to Remus and I all heartbroken. We all got drunk to soothe his ragged soul and then drinks turned into dancing and well, you saw how dancing turns out, Reggie.” Sirius grins, and Regulus blushes at the memory of Remus’s fingers inside of him, holding him open while James worshiped his cock. In front of his brother, bathed in red light and squirming, no less.

“Uh-huh,” He breaths and kisses him, just a quick brush of lips that his brother moans into. 

“So why didn’t the three of you just..”

“Be together?” James pants from above them, leaning down to bite at Regulus’s mouth. Regulus lifts up to let him. 

“I mean..” James grunts, eyes closed, “I love Sirius. Like a brother.” 

 Regulus can’t stifle the laugh he barks out. It rips out of his chest unbidden, the hilarity of the answer overwhelming him. James peaks at him through low lidded eyes, unamused expression on his face, and Regulus blushes.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just.. You see how ironic that is?” Regulus gestures, not so vaguely, to his literal brother, mouthing at his neck in a very not-platonic way. 

“Yes, yes, but what I meant was,” James sits back on his heels and pulls Sirius’s legs up, ankles over his shoulders at an angle that makes Sirius groan against Regulus’s throat. “Pads and Moony had each other, for all the romance stuff. Sure, they’d take me out on dates and let me be all cheesy with them, but, at the end of the day, I was still the third in the bed. I wanted to find my own person. Wanted something epic.” 

Regulus’s mouth sours at the insinuation, because he knows he is anything but epic. Knows how hard he made James work for it before he would even look his way. He feels slightly bad about it now, the cold shoulder. He could’ve loved this man a year ago, could’ve let him love him back.

Regulus makes a mental note, as he watches his boyfriend get close to coming, to bring him home more flowers from work today. James liked when he did that. Maybe he’d choose the purple ones, this time, grab a little vase too, really jazz it up. Properly romance his boyfriend, who deserves it. 

Sirius is gripping his thighs and so Regulus reaches down with his free hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking in time with James’s hips. It makes Sirius pant. “Oh, shit, shit, merde, juste comme ça! (shit, just like that!)” 

Slick covers Regulus’s fingers, a creamy white that slips between his knuckles and wettens Sirius’s length as he continues to jerk it into the palm of his hand. Sirius’s hands go to the sheets underneath him, digging in. “Mercy! Reggie, fuck, stop, stop!” 

Regulus bites down on his bottom lip to keep from grinning too wide as he gives his brother a taste of his own medicine. James’s grunts are coming closer together, swears streaming from him like he hadn’t just scolded Regulus for them minutes earlier. 

His eyes squeeze shut and Regulus thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever fucking heard when Sirius’s name rings out around them on the tale end of an orgasmic moan. If Regulus could find it in him to get hard again, that would’ve done it. Fuck. 

He lets his hand slow naturally, until he’s just holding and squeezing while Sirius shakes and shudders. It’s a gorgeous view, him wet from sweat and thoroughly undone under a satisfied looking James. Sirius nuzzles him, gives him a kiss. James does the same to Sirius, then plants a wet one on Regulus, too. 

Regulus pulls him in, returning the favor, mumbling, “Thank you for telling me,” as he does, and suddenly there are three mouths, three tongues, three bodies fighting for purchase as they kiss, and laugh, and lick between them. 

Regulus notes, idly, as James and Sirius bicker between silly kisses about who should make them all tea, that the rain has stopped, and the sun has graced the sky with its presence. It may be a cloudless day, after all. 

*

Regulus does bring home flowers. The purple ones, with little yellow buds in a sea-green vase he picks up from a thrift store. It was a precarious car ride to James’s flat wherein Regulus thought to buckle them up like a passenger, and when they nearly spilled, pulled over to the side of the road to instead situate the delicate gift between his thighs. He drove under the speed limit the rest of the way, but the smile on James’s face when he sees them makes it all worth it.

Regulus can’t reason why he didn’t figure out this whole, affection, boyfriend-thing sooner. He finds it rather easy, throughout the rest of the night. Finds himself actively making the choices, saying the things that will make his boyfriend melt. He orders James’s favorite takeaway, grabs his favorite blanket from the hall closet and they watch his favorite movie.

Regulus runs him a bath, with bubbles and he even lets James wash his hair when he asks to. Regulus doesn’t even make him beg for it. The entire evening is intimate.

It’s the sappiest date they’ve spent together, because they kiss and cuddle and talk in hushed whispers, but they don’t have sex. Regulus does try, and James stills his hands and reminds him that he’s still sore, and assures him he doesn’t need it. He’s just happy to spend time together.

They fall asleep easily, wrapped up in each other. James strokes his back with careful fingers, and when he lingers, Regulus pretends not to notice. Tries not to let it bother him, the way he knows his pretty features are disfigured by something so ugly. 

James Potter is as cute as he is when he’s awake when he’s asleep. He snores, and where Regulus would find that behavior thoroughly annoying on anyone else, certainly with past lovers, he can only find endearment for the quirk in James. He doesn’t even roll him over to see it stop, just lets the rumble of his breathing soothe him to sleep. 

He dreams, and at first, it’s a good one. 

He and James are dancing. They’re dressed in suits, with little prim and proper bow ties, and they sway around and around at a gala filled with people in expensive ball gowns and holding crystalline glasses between their fingers. James is smiling, and Regulus loves him. Loves him so much he is blinded by the glare of his white teeth. 

He can’t remember a time when he loved dancing any more than he does right now. Here in James’s arms, being spun around like one of those sweet girls being courted. Being looked upon by the higher ups of society with jealousy in their eyes because he is being led by the prince, the most coveted.

In particular, a red flash of hair catches his eye, and he smiles extra wide for that rueful glance.

The music slows, the people around them blur. James leans in, lips puckered and Regulus is full of excitement because his love is going to kiss him. On the mouth, here, in front of everyone. He’s so excited that he leans in, stands on his toes to catch those lips on his. 

He gets a smack to the face. 

“Heels on the floor, young master Regulus!” An older woman’s voice croons nasally from his lover’s throat. 

Regulus gasps, leans away. 

“Straighten your back you useless muppet! Do I need to fit a stick up your arse to show you how?”

“No. No…” Regulus whimpers, and straightens his back. “Jamie..”

“How dare you speak out of turn!” He is reprimanded. Regulus has the strongest urge to flee. He does just that, whips his body around intending to run from the room but slams into Sirius’s tall form. He looks younger than he should. 

Sirius catches him with hands at his shoulders, stills him. He hisses through his teeth, “What are you doing, Regulus?”

“I.. I..” Regulus stutters. The room is empty around him now and he can’t understand. Where did everyone go? 

A woosh comes, the heavy gust of a breeze and the room spins around them. He and Sirius spin too, their positions reversed, and his brother is pinning him to a wall. Glass crunches underneath his toes, pricking into the skin and making him bleed.

“Sirius!” He gasps. His brother’s face is twisted, not in anger or outrage but in fear. 

“Shut up. Shut up! Don’t say a word!” He growls under his breath before he pushes away from Regulus, shielding him from view as he straightens his back, hands clenched behind him. 

“Sirius! What is the meaning of this!” Their mother screeches. 

“I broke your vase, Maman.” Sirius says proudly, gesturing to the mess of sharp on the ground. 

“No!” Regulus shouts. He knows this isn’t how it happens. Knows he doesn’t save his brother from the belt, but he has to try. “He didn’t! I did! I broke it!” He yells, pushing his way around his brother, who grips his shirt, tries to stop him.

“Regulus. Don’t lie, you didn’t even see it happen. Maman, I was being foolish, running up and down the halls.” Sirius hastily tries to cover, wide eyes glaring at him. 

Regulus shoves his brother away, offers up his palms which have glass in them. Poking out at funny angles, but he doesn’t feel it, so it doesn’t hurt. 

“I did it. It’s all my fault. Punish me, not him!” He braves his mother’s face, screwed up like a whirlpool. 

She reaches a sharp taloned hand towards him, and the floor falls out beneath his feet.

He lands hard on his knees, cement below him, a puddle of wet growing wider underneath. It’s dank, the smell of piss. His back is hit with something sharp, something that bends in the air and slaps down into his skin, ripping it, making him shriek. 

He peaks up through sweat soaked hair and sees his brother kneeling there too. He’s bleeding bloody tears. Regulus screams for him but no sound comes out, just burns away in his throat as a buzzing sound fills his ears.

Sirius collapses, body convulsing on the dirty floor. Regulus jerks forward to touch him, to soothe him, but his face slams into glass. He gasps at his reflection in a gold-gilded mirror. He has blood running down his mouth, his chin, drip drip dripping onto his knees. He tries to look away.

James’s hand grips his hair, tugging his chin up and making him look. “Do you see what you’ve done? Do you?” The room is in flames around him. It licks up James’s shins, it kisses and burns the fabric of his clothes, the hair around his face charred.

Regulus breaths in a lungful of smoke and tips sideways. 

When he opens his eyes, he’s laying atop white sheets. He’s stroking a wrinkled face, if you could call it that, because it’s nothing but skin stretched thinly over bone. He watches his hand pinch and twist that skin. “You’re so mean, Regulus,” His father spits at him, “Just like your mother.” He coughs up blood. There’s so much blood. It leaks down and spills over the side of the bed and onto a sheepskin rug. 

The rug is soft under his fingers. The fireplace in front of him licks his skin with heat and makes him sweat. Or maybe that’s the way in which the blonde hair cascaded around a hot mouth on his prick makes him feel. He pushes it back, away from the juvenile, feminine face. 

Narcissa looks up at him, eyes glassy, mouth spread wide around him. “Where’s your brother? Where is he?” He hears her voice even though her mouth is occupied.

Regulus panics, shakes his head. He opens his mouth to say “I don’t know,” but the words are hot coals on his tongue. “You should’ve died here.” Her voice singsongs.

He looks towards the fire. Bright and glowing. Flames on logs because they burn wood so fucking well. So fast. 

Grass is cold under his toes as he watches his house go up in flames. His mother is inside, too dead to scream, but it’s echoing around him like a choir. It’s ringing in his ears and hurting his head. It’s loud, so loud, his voice and his brothers, pleas to be saved, pleas to stop hurting, please, please, plea-

“Reggie! Reg! Wake up. Wake up. You’re okay. You’re safe! Shh, Shh..” James has him scooped up in his arms, rocking him back and forth. 

“James,” Regulus gasps, voice croaky and thick with fear. His eyes snap open, take in the same cool blue bedroom he went to sleep in. There’s no sheepskin rug, no fire. No one is hurting, no one is dying. No one is dead. Regulus isn’t dead.  

He clings onto James while his breathing slows, and James holds him tight. “It was just a nightmare. Just a bad dream. It’s not real. It wasn’t real.” 

Regulus doesn’t have the words to tell him that it was .

*

James asks him three times if he’s okay being by himself at the flat. James used to swim competitively, and so he coaches youth swimming on Saturdays. Regulus has nowhere to be, and insists that if it’s alright with James, he’d like to soothe his nerves from the night before in James’s luxuriously large bath. 

It takes a while to convince him, his boyfriend runs down the clock until he’s very nearly late before he gives in, kisses Regulus too thoroughly for a man running so behind, and then is out the door. 

This is how Regulus finds himself alone in the flat, sipping a cup of tea with far too much milk to be called tea, when a tall woman with long, wavy golden locks and a cardboard moving box in front of her, pushes her way into the flat yelling for his brother. 

“Sirius! You’ll never guess, it happened AGAIN! Does Remus have time for- Oh.” The woman stops across the counter from Regulus, setting the box down in front of her. 

Regulus eyes her above his mug. “You’ve shrunk. No, that’s not quite right, you’re.. are you of any relation to Sirius, by chance?” she mutters curiously, a train of thought slipping off her tongue as though she needs to verbalize the words to process them. 

Regulus leans forward, fingers itching to pull the flap of the box back because it sounds like somethings moving inside of it. “What’s in the box?” he asks, laying on the french accent thickly and ignoring her questions. 

She tips her head, wide eyes like she’s trying to do a math problem. “Hmm. You are. Wow. I didn’t think Sirius had any family. Where’ve you been hiding, tiny Sirius?” 

Regulus’s eyebrows draw in at the nickname, lip curling. He leans back and takes another sip of his drink. “Back from the dead, it would seem,” he answers sardonically, “What's in the box?” he asks again. 

“Pussys.” She blurts. 

Regulus stares at her. 

“Cats, kittens, little ones,” She amends as she opens it up. “You wouldn’t believe how many times people try to drop them off at the shelter. As if you can’t hear the barking from a kilometer away and deduce that it isn’t for animals that aren’t of the canine variety.” She throws her hands in the air. 

“And.. why have you brought them here?” He says as he stares down at the five-kitten litter, crawling all over each other to be comfy. 

“I was hoping Remus could have a look at them, make sure they’re healthy before I take them home.” 

“Why would you take them home?” Regulus looks over at the woman again. She’s wearing an eccentric collection of colors, a polka dot skirt with blues and greens, a purple tank top, a yellow cardigan. Her accessories are chunky reds and pinks, same as the rouge on her cheeks. 

“Well, because I take them in and rehome them when this happens, of course.” She says proudly. 

“Right.. “ Regulus nods. “Well, Sirius isn’t here.” He shrugs. 

“But you are.” She answers, and it’s fluid. She’s calling him Sirius, and it’s weird. 

“Yeah. But I don’t live here. You can’t just bring cats into a person's place when they’re not home.” 

“Sure I can. I have, I just did. I’m here, aren't I?”

“Are you?” Regulus asks incredulously, because this woman is bat shit crazy, he thinks. 

“Pandora Lovegood,” She holds out her hand to shake, big, round jewelry clunking loud, startling the felines in the box. 

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Regulus ignores her hand, mutters about psychotic wenches under his breath in French. 

“You’re feisty! Like them,” She points to the cats, “I like you. Are you sticking around?” She lifts the box and heads towards the lounge and, well, Regulus truly can’t tell if this woman just walked off the street into the first unlocked flat or if she actually knows Sirius, but.. he can’t just let her stick around and bugger off to take a bath, so. 

Regulus follows her into the lounge, and she’s already planting the kittens on a well worn blanket on the floor. She floats down to a criss-crossed position and Regulus follows suit, setting his mug on the table next to him. 

“What kind of cats are these?” He asks, if only to garner her attention because she is staunchly ignoring him now. 

“Bermans, I believe. See the blue eyes?” 

“I do,” Regulus nods. The cats flock over to crazy-lady - Pandora - who has a fish hanging from a string attached to a pole. All except one lazy little one, who stretches her little legs and paws at the ground before trotting right over to Regulus’s lap and climbing in. 

The kitten curls up between his legs, rests her head there and falls back to sleep. Regulus doesn’t even realize he’s got his hands up in the air like he’s at gunpoint until Pandora is laughing at him. 

“What’s it doing? Why is it doing this? Is it sick?” 

“No,” She giggles. “Kittens are sleepy, and Burmans especially, they’re a calm breed. She’s sleeping.” 

“Why is she doing it on me?” He grouses, letting his hands fall slowly so as to not startle it, lest it.. I don’t know .. eat him. 

“She must like you,” Pandora muses as the other kittens attack the toy she holds. “Do you like her?” 

“I’ve not.. been around animals, much.” Regulus mumbles, fingers hovering slightly. He can feel the soft fur brush his fingertips. When he finally touches her, running tentative fingers along her back, the kitten starts to vibrate.

“W-why is it doing that?” 

“What?” 

“That.. vroom, noise! Is it going to explode?” 

Pandora doubles over with laughter, and the other kittens climb over her. Regulus shoots her an annoyed, only slightly petrified look, but keeps petting the sleeping cat. She is kind of.. cute, he supposes. And the vibrations she makes are relaxing so, he supposes if he’s going to get blown up, this is a pretty nice way to go. 

Three hours later and James lets himself into the flat, walks in, whistling a familiar tune only to stop dead at the sight of Pandora Lovegood with Regulus’s head in her lap. 

She’s trailing her fingers through his hair, petting him while he pets the kitten that still chooses to take her snoozes on him even now. The other kittens run amok in the room, long since having abandoned the toys to search around the furniture and chase each other. 

His eyebrows are in his forehead as Regulus waves to him. “ Salut, Jamie.” (“Hi, Jamie.”)

“Hi, pretty thing.” He waves, confused. It makes Regulus chuckle.

“Hi James Potter,” Pandora sings in that funny, lyrical lilt of hers that Regulus thinks he’s gotten used to now because she’s spent the last few hours talking him through how to have a pet, specifically a cat, specifically a Burman, specifically this Burman, even against Regulus’s insistence that he was not keeping the thing. 

“Hello, Panda. Nice to see you again. Is there a reason my lounge has an infestation of cats running rampant through it?” James sits down next to her and manhandles Regulus until his head is in his lap , taking over the petting fluidly.

“Is there a reason you’ve got your hands all over tiny Sirius?” She shoots back at him. 

“Mm, yeah James, why have you got your hands all over me?” Regulus teases. 

James groans. "Tiny Sirius? Are you Serious?” 

“No, he is,” She points at Regulus, and Regulus giggles. 

“Oh my god, no he is not.” 

“He hasn’t told me otherwise, so I’m inclined to believe you’ve cloned the man so that both you and Remus can have him.” Regulus sees Pandora shrug, not the least bit joking. Regulus keeps laughing, and James slaps his forehead. 

“Panda, this is Regulus, Sirius’s little-..” 

“Friend.” Regulus interrupts off-handedly, shooting James a glare.

James raises a brow at him. And Regulus knows it’s silly to lie, because Pandora is giving them both a disbelieving look as James confirms, “Friend..”, but James stalked him for a whole fucking year and then dated him and only figured out his relation to his best friend after their disastrous double date plans, so.. he lies. And doesn’t care if she believes it. 

“Right. Yes. I see that you are all very friendly, considering he was left alone in your apartment. He was quite morose about it, James.” 

“I was not!” Regulus gasps, sitting up. He wasn’t. He didn’t even pout, not even a little. Okay, maybe he talked a little bit about how he shouldn’t have been left alone in a place where he didn’t know where the tea towels were kept but that was.. that was different!

“You were, dear, your aura was all purple.” 

Regulus stares. What is that even supposed to mean? 

“And who is this?” James strokes a hand over the kitten that has shifted around on Regulus’s legs as he sat up. 

“A cat.” Regulus deadpans. 

“Yes, love, I can see that. Does she have a name?” 

“No.” 

“You’ve named her.” Pandora disagrees with a wave of her hand as she begins gathering up the other cats. And she couldn't know that, so he stands his ground.

“I’ve not, merci. (thank you) Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to take the pussys to the vet now.” She chirps. 

“Why didn’t you do that hours ago?” Regulus scoops up the kitten in his lap, stands when Pandora and James do, and tries to hand her over.

“Like I said, purple. You were in need of company.” She shoos the kitten in his hands. “You’ve named her, you keep her. That’s how this works!” 

“What? No, I’m not keeping her!” 

“Why not?” James asks. 

“I.. I can’t be responsible for a cat, James, I’ve never had a pet before.” 

“I have, we can adopt her together!” James brightens, stealing the kitten from his arms and nuzzling her. 

Regulus just.. stares. “You want to.. adopt a cat, together? With me?” 

“Yeah, it’d be nice.” James kisses her fury head, smiling past her towards Regulus, who is slack jawed.

“We don’t even live in the same house, James, what are we to do? Pass her back and forth like a couple of divorcees?” 

“You could move in here,” James mumbles, and Regulus almost doesn’t hear it over Pandora stating, “That’s my cue to leave. Bye bye James Potter, tiny Sirius!” 

“It’s Regulus.” He mutters towards her, glaring at James. 

“You could move in here,” James says again when the door closes after Pandora’s retreating form. 

“You want me to move in here.. to this flat.. that you share.. with my brother?” Regulus stumbles through the sentence incredulously. He looks around, actually looks the fuck around, because he’s sure now that he’s being punked. This is all one big ruse. 

“Your brother, who you also sleep with? Yes, yeah. My bedroom or his, I don’t care, and the cat can sleep wherever too! I don’t mind animals on the furniture. I’ve had to live with Sirius, after all. Man puts his boots up on the table like a king.” James is laughing through his sentences.

“We’ve been dating for.. merde, four months, James. Four. I can’t just.. move in?” 

Regulus feels like he’s choking. 

Like the air from the room is being sucked out, the lights are dimming, the hardwood floors giving way to pale gray surfaces. 

“It’s been a good four months, hasn’t it?” James’s grin is lopsided, he somehow hasn’t picked up on Regulus’s rising panic, even though he can taste it on his tongue along with stomach bile. 

Regulus can’t fucking breathe. “ Non .” 

James’s eyebrows crinkle. His mouth screws up. He clutches the kitten closer. “What?” 

“I can’t move in with you,” Regulus gasps. He backs away, towards the wall. James, the idiot, follows him. The walls get closer, closer, they’re going to crush him. 

“Yes you can,” James shakes his head, puts the cat down gently, “I’m telling you, you can.” 

“No!” 

“Reggie? What’s wrong? I thought things were.. good, between us? Have I done something?” 

James is right, things have been good and Regulus can feel the chains on his ankles, now. The weights. He can’t move, he is frozen where he is as the threat advances on him because he doesn’t deserve good, he isn’t good. 

It’s like the windows disappear. Like someone closes the curtains and says, “No more day time for you, Regulus Black, only darkness.” 

“ Non, no, I can’t move in here, it’s too..” He mumbles hazily, searching around for whoever stole his fucking light. 

Something large and scary is in his face, voice smooth with confusion as it asks, “Too what?” 

“Too much!” Regulus shrieks, and he shoves at the thing in front of him, which stumbles back on uneasy footing. 

“I’m.. being too much?” It asks, hurt coloring the tone. 

If Regulus asks himself in a couple of hours why this angers him, this monster playing sad, he’ll probably be able to acknowledge that he is having a panic attack. He’ll be able to point the trigger out with a steady finger and say there, look at that, you felt rushed and cornered and so you retreated and when the person that scared you goes on the defensive, you went on the offensive because they hold the weapon here, and you didn’t want to get more fucking scarred. 

But right now, Regulus can’t ask himself that question, can’t give himself the logical answer. He can only lash out, spew venom from his mouth and hope his boyfriend backs away without a fight. 

“Yes! Too much! Too fucking much too fast and I can’t, I can’t..” 

A hand touches his arm.

The soft brush of fingers that forces his boyfriend's face, wet for some reason, to come back into view. 

His boyfriend's face, but his mother’s hand. 

“What is WRONG WITH YOU? Get away, get away! It’s not ENOUGH, get back! Can’t you ever take no for an answer?! ” He spews. 

James gasps, a hand flying to his mouth to cover the reaction but it’s too late, because Regulus sees it. Sees the damage he causes when he aims that verbal knife and stabs deep, stabs hard. Stabs, with intent to kill.  

Regulus is panting for air. He would double over if he could move his body, but he is stuck statue still, can do nothing but watch as grief and despair twists into outrage on James’s face. 

James comes forward with a vengeance, a violence, that Regulus has never seen him wield and he is fucking scared when James’s hands grip his shoulders and force him back into the wall. 

His boyfriend is right in his face when he spits, “Why should I, Regulus? Why should I take no for an answer when I know you’re really saying convince me ?!”

Regulus whimpers, he tips his chin away in an effort to not be bitten by the wild animal he himself has unleashed.

“I spent a year convincing you because your eyes said “try” when you looked at me! No, no, no, but you really wanted to say yes, didn’t you, you just couldn’t let yourself until it was worth your while!”

“W-what, uh..” Regulus whines, eyes squeezed shut when a hand flies down to harshly cup his crotch. 

“Why is that, Regulus? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“J-Jamie..” Regulus tries, tries, to say. Doesn’t quite choke it out through his shaking jaw. 

James’s hand squeezes. “Maybe I’ll call Sirius! You’ll do it for him, you’ll stay, move in, be here for him, won't you?” Regulus has never known his boyfriend to be so cruel. 

 James' lips kiss up the skin of his neck. It burns. Regulus is fucking trembling when James breathes in his ear, “Or maybe you can just close your eyes, pretend I’m him while I fuck you, yeah baby? Petit frère? (Little brother?)” 

The mock French, the shitty accent, the way it’s growled.. that’s what does it. Miraculously reminds Regulus that he is not chained to a basement floor by someone who would kill him. He is held underhand by someone probed into insurmountable anger, yes, but they are both out of their minds with this frenzy Regulus has worked them into, and he alone has the power to make it stop.

“Rouge! Red, red, red, red, red, please, red, Jamie, stop, stop, red..” He babbles, cries, prays. 

James is across the room fucking instantly , before he’s even said it twice, and Regulus just keeps mumbling and muttering the words over and over. Maybe to tell himself to stop, too, but he isn’t listening, is he? Until his voice catches in his throat and his lips press shut. 

When he opens his eyes, the flat’s lounge comes into crystal clear focus, bright day light once more. He takes big gulps for air, hands still splayed submissively against the wall that he’s pressed himself into. James’s hands are on his face, just his eyes visible above them, awash with anguish. 

They both shake. They both struggle to breath. They both have tears streaming down their faces. And Regulus, back from that scary place he’d gone to and firmly aware of his surroundings once more, wants to be selfish. 

Wants to beg for his boyfriend to hold him, and sooth away the aftershocks of painful memories. Wants for him to hear his apologies because he hadn’t meant it, the awful shit he’d said to piss him off, to push him away. 

He wants James to let him get down on his knees and repent for him. 

But he doesn’t deserve to be allowed to worship at this altar. Doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Might as well drown in the mountainous floods that wash over him because James takes a further step back, putting more space between them. He closes his eyes when he says, firm and tone dull, “You should go, Regulus.” 

Regulus, taking a second to scoop up the kitten cowering between them, rushes out of the flat as fast as his unsteady feet can carry him. Because his boyfriend, this man who he could love, who he does love, is finally looking at him like the unforgivable monster that he really is, and that, that is what Regulus Black thinks that he deserves. 

Chapter Text

Regulus is hyperventilating. He is driving with blurry eyes because of the tears, speeding to get where he’s going because he honestly thinks he might pass out before he makes it there. 

The world is crashing down around him, imploded by the meteor of insecurities he harbors. It’s broken into chunks, floating off into disarray around him in the void of space.

He is floating away, too, no longer tethered by the gravity he was, unknowingly, relying upon to maintain his tentative position amongst the other stars. 

He doesn’t drive himself towards another star, he’s too afraid of causing apogee, space between them becoming insurmountable. 

He doesn’t drive himself towards his house, this black hole that would suck him in and see his light dim under the shelter of a duvet quilt for an unforeseeable amount of time. 

Through the panic of the mass destruction he has caused, Regulus seeks out the closest point of gravity. He drives himself, and this tiny little feline in his lap, an innocent bystander to the carnage, to Remus’s flat.

Remus hasn’t even fully opened the door before Regulus is pushing through, marching his way into the lounge to set the cat on the sofa, that, really, Remus should definitely bring to a tip after what they all did on it, but.. 

“Regulus? What's wrong?” 

Regulus whips around, arms thrown wide, “I am, I’m wrong, I’ve fucked everything up, Remus!” 

Remus pulls off his reading glasses, they hang from spiraled tubs connected to thin banded rope around his neck. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Regulus thinks he should be asking “What did you do?” but he doesn’t correct him, he just continues on with his rant of contrition, voice rising as he goes.

“There was this woman and she was fucking crazy and she says I’m purple and she wouldn’t take the fucking cat back and James wanted us to keep the thing and thats, thats crazy right because we don’t even live together! But then he said he wants us to live together? Can you believe that? And the walls, I swear to god Remus the walls moved I saw them and I saw my mom and James is going to die because I’m a fucking dumpster fire and I keep hurting everyone around me and now-..” Regulus grips his hair, tugs it over his eyes, pulls on it hard as he drops to his knees.  

Nothing makes sense. Everything is spinning, he needs it to stop fucking spinning. His voice breaks as he cries, “Now I’ve pushed him too far and he asked me to leave and I have this fucking cat and I’ve never had a cat before and it might blow up and I feel like I’ve-..” 

There are hands on his shoulders, a firm grip, and Regulus’s whole body goes still, limp, compliant, He hangs forward, hands covering his face, knuckles pressed to the floor. 

“Breathe, darling.”

Regulus doesn’t remember how to breathe. How to make his lungs work. 

“In through your nose, out through your mouth.” 

Which part of him is his nose? His mouth? He can feel his tongue, like lead, like he’s swallowing it. There’s immense pressure in his head, like a balloon blowing up, ready to burst. His chest burns.

That firm grip moves down his arms and then lifts him into a similarly firm lap. They come around to his back, to this place that aches and pulls him into the warm embrace of Remus’s chest. A hand moves up to hold the back of his head.

“Feel me breathe, love. In, out,” Remus takes big breaths that puff out his chest and Regulus follows as it caves in with his exhalation. 

He leans in, lets the pressure of the other man's chest expand and then rock back, over and over until the pressure in his head decreases, and air starts to move through him. Slowly, shyly, his hands drop from his face to pose above the heartbeat that is steadily calming his own rapidly beating one. 

It’s warm here, in this hold, so unlike the icy vastness of the space he’d been hurtling through before. Regulus’s eyes sink closed as he lets himself float back down, to find the ground, this secure place under his feet. 

Remus’s body feels like the safety of a boat, vessel steady and sure, not allowing the violent waves to crash over any longer. 

Regulus wets his lips, throat dry when he says, “I’m sorry..” 

“Don’t be,” Remus hushes. “Start from the beginning, tell me slowly what's got you so worked up.”

Regulus does. It takes a while for him to find the words, where to start, but eventually he explains Pandora and her box of kittens. 

“Why would a living thing explode?” Remus asks, tone light as he strokes through Regulus’s hair, and it makes Regulus laugh because he’s just so..right. 

“I don’t know, it was vibrating.” 

“She was purring. Letting you know she felt comfortable, safe.” 

“Oh..” Regulus mumbles. 

He continues on to Pandora’s very informative lecture on cat maintenance. “She was hoping you would look them over, by the way. She’ll have found another vet by now though.”

“She’ll have gone to my office, I’m sure.” 

“Ah..”

“So James came home?”

“Yes, and started this nonsense about wanting to keep it and move in together.” 

“And this scared you?” 

“..Yes.” 

“Why?”

Regulus peaks up at Remus’s face for the first time since he collapsed. Remus is watching the kitten, as though he’s aware that his gaze would feel overbearing to Regulus at this moment. Regulus sighs.

“I don’t know. I’ve been alone for a long time, Remus..”

“Do you want to be, still?” 

“...No.” 

“Then what would be the harm in moving in with him? With your brother?”

“I wouldn’t have any place to disappear.” Regulus breathes out the truth before he’s thought it through. 

“You have people in your life now who don’t want you to, darling.” 

“You’re right, I know you are, I just.. I felt like I was falling into a trap. Like if I said yes, the universe would be cruel to me for it.” 

“James wouldn’t hurt you like that, he will give you space when you need it.” 

“It’s not even that I need it, I think I’m just..” 

“Just not used to being seen?” Remus looks at him then. 

“Yes.” 

Remus’s hand rubs at the base of Regulus’s head, the back of his neck. “Not used to being touched?” 

“Not kindly.” 

“Not used to being loved.” Remus nods and it’s not a question, it’s a statement. An observation made by keen eyes, as if through a high powered telescope. 

“Not in any of the right ways.” 

“Does it feel right, darling? The way James loves you?” Remus leans in and their noses brush. 

“ Oui.. Yes.” Regulus wants to kiss him, but he can’t move. He needs Remus to do it for him. 

“How about the way we love you?” Remus’s eyes bounce between his, searching for the answer in their gray depths.

Regulus finds it in the lightness of his heart, the way it floats about this beautiful universe they’ve provided. He no longer feels adrift in space, but held together by the force of something greater, something stronger than him. 

“Yes.” He whispers, and it is the barest, most stripped true confession he has ever given. 

It’s some time later before Regulus finishes retelling the events of the morning. He gets caught up, cheeks wetting again when he explains James’s anger. 

How he caused it.

  How he realized, in the car on the way here, that he was hard from it, even though he felt like he was dying in all of the other areas of his body.

“You poked a sore subject for him.” Remus points out, and Regulus is thankful that there’s no judgment in his tone. 

“Because of Lily?” Regulus asks quietly. 

Remus gives him a long, surprised look before he nods. “Yes. He spent a long time trying to get her to be with him. She said no, over and over again and James, he misunderstood. He thought she was playing.” 

“But she wasn’t, she meant it when she said no..” 

“She did. Do you?” 

“James says I don’t..” 

“Mm..” Remus brushes a kiss into his hair. “In my short experience with you, I am inclined to agree. But is that because you don’t, or because you think no one will listen even if you do?”

Regulus hides his face in the crook of Remus’s neck while he thinks. They’re still on the floor, and it can’t be comfortable to Remus who is acting as his personal cushion, but he hasn’t complained. 

“I know that he will listen if I use the safe word, so.. if I’m not saying that, if I’m only saying no..” 

“Then it's probably not reasonable to expect those around you, James especially, to hear no fall from your lips and take it seriously.”

Regulus feels a brush of shame enter him. It doesn’t fill him up, though, and Remus doesn’t let it take hold either. He says, soft and quiet, “It’s okay to like to play hard to get, Regulus. To put up a fight when you’re taken, to be forced to give your submission, but Jamie.. he needs to know, you need to tell him , especially now that you’ve said what you have in a moment of weakness, that you don’t mean it. That you are playing.” 

“You’re right..” Regulus groans, “I owe him an apology.” 

“You do. He owes you one too.” 

“I can’t go back right now, it’s too fresh, I feel like.. like I’ll make it worse if I go back to him like this.” 

“You still feel on edge?” Remus squeezes him. 

“Mm..” 

“I think I could help reel you in from that ledge, if you’d let me..” Remus’s voice has a sudden timidness, like he’s shy about the suggestion. 

“What?” Regulus asks, because at this point he would try anything to soothe the fray of his nerves.

“Well, I think it would help to.. experience those strong emotions, safely. To release them, not under the threat of an intense situation, but when it is controlled by someone level headed. Someone you trust.”

“Like.. exposure therapy?” 

“Exactly like that,” Remus’s voice drops an octave, to that sultry smooth rasp when he purrs, “Do you trust me, pretty thing?” 

“Yes.” Falls from Regulus’s lips immediately. 

Remus lifts him from his lap, sits him on the couch and with a soft kiss to the cheek tells him to sit, and to stay, and to breathe . Regulus can do that, he thinks, he’s already sitting, he just has to not move, has to breathe. 

Remus isn't gone long, maybe ten minutes if the tick of a distant clock is anything to go by. When he comes back, he kneels in front of Regulus, who truly hasn’t moved. His arms drape over his knees, a soft smile playing on his face even as his voice has a warning tone to it. “If I’m right about what you’ve been through, then this.. this will scare you. It will make you panic. And you will have to trust me to get you through it. Do you think you can do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Regulus whispers, shaking his head despondently. “I’m not all here in my head when that happens I.. I go back to that place. To that house.”

“Where?” 

“What?”

“Where in that house do you go?” 

Regulus swallows hard around the lump in his throat. “To the basement..To my knees on the cold cement floor.” 

Remus nods, a small smile playing on his lips when he says. “Okay. That’s okay. I won’t let your knees touch the ground then, yeah?” 

Regulus ponders this for a moment. He doesn’t know if that will help, but Remus is so sure that he can do this, it instills a confidence in Regulus that he wouldn’t normally have in the face of something so viscerally similar to his trauma. Remus calms him, makes him want to try to face his fears. 

He slips his hand into Remus’s waiting palm and lets the man pull him up from the floor. He leads Regulus to his room, and right away he notices a towel strewn out on the bed with several frightening instruments on it. He jerks back when he sees the black straps of a leather flogger. 

“Oh..” He gasps, but he bumps into Remus whose arms circle around him solidly. 

“Shh, shh, it’s not what you think.” He leads Regulus closer to the bed, still holding him while he explains. “It’s cowhide, soft, eight straps and it’s meant to feel good Regulus.” 

He knows this, he does. Has begged to be hurt in all sorts of ways, with all sorts of objects, in varying meaningless encounters. Has let himself be hurt by James’s hands, by Remus’s, by Sirius’s. But somehow, fresh off of the panic and hurt he’s experienced today, on the perpetual edge of another episode as he is, it is terrifying to see the instruments laid out before him. 

It reminds him of a harsh woman with no love to give who would restrain him, lay tools out and tell him all the ways in which he deserved to be hurt. 

His eyes brush over the other items. A radio-looking box with wires coming out of it that connect to small plugs and clamps. Little vibrators. The last item, a silk black.. “ Non, no..” 

Remus catches his chin, makes him stare at the offensive fabric. “I don’t want you to see what’s coming, darling, I don’t want you to have the time or space of mind to brace for it.”

“I-I can’t do this..” Regulus whimpers. 

“You can, darling . You can. Because I am not going to let you forget that it is me brandishing those items. And while I intend for it to hurt a little, for you to be uncomfortable, it is not my intention to hurt you . It’s my intention to make you feel good and to keep you present while I do. Understand?” 

“..You won't let me forget it's you?”

“Not for a second, I promise you.”

Regulus is silent for several moments before he fights his nerves back, lets trust settle into his bones and says, “..Okay.” 

Remus tilts his chin up towards the ceiling where Regulus sees for the first time the metal O-rings that are secured in neat rows. Attached to them now is soft looking black rope, the kind that doesn’t chafe the skin. Regulus whimpers. 

“I’m going to tie your hands,” Remus confirms in a breathy whisper. He’s ducked down to nose at the column of Regulus’s throat, making him shiver. “Going to have you hang from the ceiling, just your toes on the floor. Can you dangle all slutty for me?” 

“I’ve been restrained before..” Regulus confirms he knows the drill, likes the sting when its not heavy metal holding him down. 

“Good, that’s good. Clothes off, Regulus.” 

Remus pushes him a step forward and Regulus obeys, although with shaky fingers, pulling his clothes off and dumping them into a pile at the foot of the bed. He is stark naked when he turns to look at Remus. 

He’s opened up the top of his shirt, the first few buttons open so that the divots of his pecks are visible. He’s got his hands casually in the pockets of his slacks, expectant expression on his face, and Regulus has been around the block enough to know that they’ve started and what is expected of him.

He starts to sink to his knees, and Remus stops him with a palm up in the air. “When not in play you’ll assume a submissive position while standing . Head down, hands clasped behind your back. Just like that, thank you, pet.” 

Regulus stares at the floor, bitten bottom lip stinging. He sees Remus approach because of his feet, inches from Regulus’s own when a gentle finger comes down to trace the curve of his cheek. “Your safe words will be the same with me as they are with James. Recite them, please.” 

“Green, yellow, red. Green for Good, keep going. Yellow to slow down, take a breather, change things up. Red is stop immediately.” 

Remus’s palm smooths back his hair. “Brilliant. You’ll use them, you will answer when I ask your color. List your hard limits, please. Only the things that are non negotiable, the rest I will consider up to my discretion.” 

“Umm..” Regulus blushes, thinking through the list of things he’s gone through with James, with one time doms and drunken partners who’d started to go too far. He sorts away a large majority of it, wanting to put his absolute trust in Remus this way, but there are still a few he finds he absolutely cannot handle. “No scat, permanent disfigurement or..” Regulus chokes a little, squeezing his eyes shut, “No fire or drowning.” 

Regulus almost, almost adds electro play to that list. He knows for certain that if he did, that little box on the bed would disappear, and Remus wouldn’t push him. But they were calling this exposure therapy, it's supposed to be helpful to face the fears, and it’s not a cattle prod that sits there, so Regulus wants to try. 

The nightmare he had the night before, the buzzing that saw his brother convulsing on the floor, still rings in his ears. He ignores it. 

Remus hums. “Understood, I will not go anywhere near those limits.” Remus tilts his chin up, and he’s watching him intently. Looking for any sign of panic , Regulus thinks, but for now he’s good. 

This is something he can do, something he does well, this gift of submission as Remus had called it in his office. 

“There you are,” Remus smiles at him. “Give me your wrists.” 

Regulus complies, both wrists together and out to Remus’s waiting hands, who starts to pull on the ropes and has them wrapped securely around Regulus in no time. They bind his hands, clasped together, and then Remus is pulling them up, up, up, until his arms are secured above his head. He’s stretched thin, and the ropes don’t give when he tugs or tries to squirm. 

“Feel okay?” Remus gives the rope on his wrist a tap, “Not too tight?” 

Regulus shakes his head, “Is good, sir.” 

He is firmly stuck in place when Remus approaches him with the black silk, and Regulus squeezes his eyes shut preemptively, as if closing himself in darkness first will make the lack of sight easier to handle. 

It doesn’t. He whines when the fabric is secure around his eyes, his heart beating just a little bit faster, but he doesn’t complain. 

“I’m here, pet.” Regulus can feel the air around him move as Remus shuffles around, gets familiar with the way his body hangs there.

The soft glide of several straps on his chin has him shivering. “Breathe in for me.”

Regulus breaths in. 

“And out..” the straps trails along his waist, teasing the hair of his happy trail. 

“In.” Remus orders softly, and the straps leave his skin.

“Out..” Just as he starts to breathe out, the straps come down lightly against his pubic bone, and it forces the air from his lungs.

He gasps in as well, and the fabric trails down his thigh. 

“Again, in.” 

Regulus takes a big breath in. 

“Out.” 

He breathes out, steadying his breath. 

“In.” 

“Out.” Regulus breaths out, braces himself for a hit that doesn’t come. 

“In..” Regulus sucks in air warily, and is rewarded with the sting of the straps on his thigh. The slap sends pleasure, unbidden through his crotch. He whimpers. 

“That's it. Keep breathing like that, in and out.” Remus is moving around him then, the flogger teasing the skin of his lower back. Several breaths later, the sting hits his buttcheek and he moans . 

“Good pet, doing so well. It doesn’t hurt too bad, does it?” 

“No sir,” Regulus whimpers when another sting hits his other cheek. 

A searching hand comes around his waist to cup his erection, squeezing and pulling at the flesh there before it disappears.

“You’re hard, baby.” Remus’s tone is teasing, and it makes Regulus squeeze his thighs together. 

The hits come faster, after that. Closer together stings in between the gentle probing of fingers on his prick, a tug of his nipples, harsh breath in his ear when lips pluck at the skin of his neck. 

It is a lot of sensation that has Regulus slipping, but then a particular hard swing lands on his lower back and he cries out, body resuming his tense position. His pulse hums in his ears again, and he braces himself for the ripping of skin.

"I'm doing this for you, darling. For your pleasure. You deserve to relax.." Regulus tries , he does, but his body stays stiff. 

“I want you to count for me until you’ve calmed, can you do that?” Remus’s voice is in his ear, his body close. 

Regulus whines, “Yes, sir.” 

Another hit, same spot. “One,” he whimpers.

The slide of the straps up, up.. a hit, softer, but on his shoulder and it doesn’t feel particularly nice, because it’s so close to that circular scar. “Two..” 

More sliding, down to the middle of his back, and he braces himself to get hit right at the epicenter of the destruction, but the hit lands on his asscheek instead. “Three,” he gasps greatfully. 

The straps slide up again. The ends feel sharp against the raised skin, and Regulus trembles. They come down again near his other shoulder. Regulus hears chains. 

“Doing so well..” Remus purrs, and the chain clinking stops to give way to his voice. It’s so smooth, so sure. Regulus focuses on that, lets it soothe his trembling. 

The flogger comes down, a hard smack at the top of his back that follows down his spine as it comes down. He arches, he cries, “Four!” 

His breathing comes faster, and he unconsciously tugs at his restraints. He can't, Regulus can't breathe, can't.. 

A strong hand circles his wrists, and a couple of hits land back on his ass, where it doesn’t hurt, where it almost feels.. nice. He’s stopped counting the hits, but Remus doesn’t make him restart. He thinks maybe he’s mumbling about the new thing he’s started to count, the beats of Remus’s heart through the pulse point pressed against his arm.

His hips tip up when the glide of the cowhide slides down his thighs, and up over his sensitive erection. 

“Thats it. You like that? Your cock does, baby.” Regulus moans for it, air having found a way into his lungs once more.  

The flogger leaves his skin and Regulus expects a quick slap there, one that will sting and ache but what he gets is better because it isn’t the slap of eight straps but the sharp pain of a palm on his balls. 

“Ah!” He cries. His stomach aches. “Again..” 

“Again? Yeah?” Remus’s palm comes down again, and Regulus jerks back, and then forward. 

“Oh my god. S’il te plait, more, please sir.” 

“Shh, shh, in good time. I’m going to open you up, pet. Color?”

Regulus hadn’t anticipated being so fucking green while they did this, but he is. He is, so fucking bright green and so he calls it out with a moan. 

“Good boy.” Remus praises him. Fingers, wet and warm, find his hole and push, press, tease until Regulus's body turns lax and lets them inside.  

“I’m going to put a bullet up here, pet, it’s roughly the size of my fingers..” Remus explains, and his body stretches away from Regulus and then comes back. 

There’s the smooth slide of something slick and rounded pushing into him, and Regulus whines, wanting to be more full. He starts to beg Remus to just fuck him, fill him up and use him, but Remus gives him a harsh slap on his buttcheek for speaking out of turn and then that thing inside of him is buzzing .

“Ah!” Regulus yells, feet scrambling for purchase that he can’t get to try and pull away. 

Remus’s strong hand reaches around his waist to grip his cock and squeeze, tug, jack him off and oh it’s so fucking weird but so good, too much good, Regulus is sure he’s screaming and he can’t hold back from-..

The buzzing stops. Remus’s hand stills. His pleasure ebbs awake, his body shakes but it isn’t from overwhelming panic, it’s from need.

“No, please..”

“No?” Remus teases.

“Don’t stop.” 

“Don’t stop, what?”

“Sir!” 

The buzzing starts again. It teases his prostate and makes him desperate for more, more friction, more vibration, more.. 

A clamp squeezes around his nipple, and he gasps, startled, because he can feel the wire that connects it to that box he’d been wary of. 

A hand comes around his throat, squeezes at the same time as the other squeezes his prick. “Shh, shh,” Remus is pressed solidly against his back when the first shock comes. 

His whole body jerks. 

His brain goes hazy. 

His mouth dries, voice caught and died in his throat. 

Tense, so tense and it squeezes the buzzing device inside of him and makes his cock jump. 

Remus squeezes his throat again, strokes his cock until the shock ebbs away and his body relaxes once more. 

“Is that what it felt like, Regulus, when she hurt you?” Remus’s voice is gruff in his ear. 

The satin over his eyes is wet, threatening to slip away with the tears that stream down his face. He can’t answer.

The shock comes again, longer this time he thinks, or maybe it’s just the way his body soaks it up and harbors it inside. Remus strokes him again, gentle pressure on his length, and Regulus relishes the way in which the sharpness drains out with the motion. 

“Oh..” He groans. 

“Did it hurt like this , baby?” Remus thumbs at the sensitive spot underneath his tip, making him throb. He still can’t find his voice. Is wary that it will earn him something worse . 

Another shock, but Remus’s hand is still moving and it distracts him from the sting of the sensation. It bleeds into the buzz, into the smooth, wet glide around him. 

His legs threaten to give out as pressure in his groin builds. 

“Answer me, pet, does this hurt?”

Regulus realizes that it.. doesn’t. 

“Will I hurt you?” 

“No, sir..” Regulus’s voice is crackly with emotion. It is overflowing with absolution, because Remus is holding him securely and the shocks don’t feel like damage, they don’t feel like ripping, they don’t smell like burning skin.

They feel cathartic, they ease him away from panic instead of sending him into it.  

“Would James? Would Sirius?” 

“No. No, sir, non .” Regulus is shaking his head, body rife with certainty, with building pleasure. 

“That's it, feel that?”

He does. He feels the sharp stings of shock, coalescing with the buzz and the slip and the slide. He sees it coming now, every ten seconds, easy for his brain to keep up with and prepare for and he doesn’t tense against it, he lets it flow through him and it starts to go right to his fucking prick each time, making him leak. 

He’s close, he realizes, pulse thumping through his erection, threatening to make him spill. 

The shocks pick up, become erratic little stabs that Regulus can’t track and still he doesn’t tense. He breathes harshly, but it isn’t a lack of air, it is the exhalation of moans through his diaphragm, absorbing the pleasurable stings as they wrack through his body. 

“I feel, I feel-..”

“What did your brother say that feeling was?” Remus noses behind his ear, and it’s a comforting sensation. 

Remus is comforting.

Remus is safe.

Regulus is safe . 

He’s not in that basement, his mother is dead and Regulus is very much alive and being thrummed like strings on a guitar, being tuned to the measurable amounts of pain and hurt that he can handle, because they are being given for pleasure. Given by Remus. 

He knows not how the pain of punishment has so rapidly shifted into something so sweet, so good, but he can’t stand it much longer, the way he is being gifted something he’s coveted all his life. 

The way Remus gives it to him, now.

The way Sirius will, too.

The way James has begged him to accept before he ever knew he could need it.

Before he knew he could feel it back.  

“Love,” Regulus gasps. “It’s love!”

“There we go. There it is. Come on baby, come for me.” Remus commands, and Regulus’s body convulses as he paints the bedroom floor in long white ropes. 

*

James comes for him. It’s hours later, the sky darkening outside and Regulus is wrapped in a blanket on the couch, eyes unseeing as he tries to read a book that Remus plopped into his lap an hour ago to keep his mind off of the thinking, the waiting, the doubts .

Because he did, he did doubt that James would search him out. 

His boyfriend is yelling and Remus is telling him to calm down and he’s still so angry, clearly, but he’s here . 

He came to get Regulus. 

“Do you want to see him?” Remus had asked when he let Regulus down from his restraints earlier, and Regulus had told him that he did, so here he was. 

James storms into the lounge, and it makes Regulus sniffle, the way his hands are clenched at his sides when his eyes land on him. 

“Lets go, Reggie.” He says, and Regulus doesn’t need to be invited twice. He throws the blanket off of himself and hurriedly follows after his boyfriend. 

Remus catches his arm and kisses him goodbye. Just one of those soft little pecks that Regulus likes too much. Regulus, much to even his own surprise, mumbles a “Love you,” when he lets go, and it makes Remus pull back and give him an assessing look. 

After a quick second he nods, lips turned up, and Regulus knows he’s saying it back, even if now isn’t the time for the words to grace the air with their truths. 

James is slack jawed at the door, angrier, if possible, and he storms away again when Regulus approaches. Maybe it wasn’t fair, to make his boyfriend hear those words leave his lips for someone else before they were for him, but Regulus had been saying them silently to James for far longer, and he was going to see that soon. 

Regulus would make sure he did. 

They leave Regulus’s car, taking James’s back to his flat. It’s a quiet ride, tension thick between them, but Regulus doesn’t let it choke him. He sucks it in through smoke stained lungs and filters it out with warm feelings, with reminders he is safe.

“Sit down.” James grouses once they’re closed into the flat. 

“I’d rather stand.” Regulus answers, arms hanging openly by his sides. He hasn’t left the entry hall. 

James turns his glare on him, arms crossed. “You’re going to be difficult, then? Were you difficult for Remus? Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?” 

“Just you.” Regulus admits. It’s a salty truth, a nasty one. “But there's a good reason for it.”

“And what reason is that?” 

Regulus swallows hard, doesn’t let himself back down, meets James’s eyes to start this speech he’s been mentally rehearsing since he realized he’d have to give it. 

“I wasn’t.. loved, as a child,” he starts, and James visibly softens before him, “our parents neglected me, and whenever I did or said something that they couldn’t ignore, Sirius took the punishments, so to the people in my life, everyone but Sirius, I was a ghost. I was the spare, it wasn’t necessary to see me or know me or love me. I was only a person because he taught me how to be, he acknowledged that I was one. So when you said that I would do anything for him, you’re right, because I owe my brother my fucking life.” 

James’s eyebrows draw together, and he looks briefly away, hurt evident on his face. Whether it was at the acknowledgement that Regulus loves his brother, or on his behalf for the abuse he endured, he isn’t sure, but he continues.

“When he left, the one person who knew I existed was gone. It was like taking away my lifeline, but I still haunted those stupid fucking halls and our mother couldn’t stand that. She did her best to try and get rid of me, to kill me, but this small part of me that Sirius grew with a leading hand wouldn’t die.” 

James nods and quietly whispers, “Good. I hope you gave her hell.” 

“I did one better,” Regulus takes a slow, deep breath, digging crescent moons in his palms when he says, “I sent her there.” 

James’s head whips around to stare openly at the truth on Regulus’s face. “So what does that have to do with me?” He says eventually, after he visibly files that admittance away for later.

“When I was free of her, free of that place, I was.. safe, I guess.. but I still couldn’t bear to exist. To be seen. So for years, James, I didn’t let anyone linger. They could have a peak, I could take pleasure from others, but I couldn’t give them more, couldn’t let them see.”

“Reggie.. baby..” James’s hand seems to move on its own accord, drifting up to touch him, but then it drops. 

Regulus takes a step forward, bracing himself for the panic which he fights through in order to grip his hand and pull it up to his lips. He kisses the knuckles there, and he hears the small inhalation of air as it slips through his boyfriend's open lips. 

“Then you came into my life,” Regulus swallows, “Looked openly at me, stared for so long it heated my blood, made me angry, and when I snapped at you, you.. you smiled. You smiled, and you kept coming back, and seeing me, you refused to leave me unseen, unheard, unknown. You begged for the chance to know me. No one had done that before, Jamie..” 

“Sirius knew you..” James says sullenly. Regulus smiles shyly. 

“Exactly. Sirius knew me. He was my brother, he never had the chance to look through an unfiltered lense and decide there was more under the surface worth knowing, because he already saw all of the pieces. He'd helped to build them.” 

James, more confident now that Regulus wouldn’t startle, strokes his knuckles along his cheek. Regulus leans into the contact, eyes closing. 

“And I was scared, I am scared, because I keep waiting for you to realize that what I can give isn’t enough, or isn’t what you want. You asked me to move in and I.. I panicked, because I thought, if I move in here, if you see all there is to see, you’ll see all the bad parts and the worthless pieces and you wont want me anymore. But I realize now that those are my insecurities, and I’m doing neither of us any favors by expecting that rejection from you. Can you forgive me for that fear?” 

James moves forward a step, his forehead coming down to rest against Regulus’s. He’s cupping his jaw when he mumbles. “Only if you can forgive me, too. I’m sorry, Reggie, I should’ve backed away, I should’ve never.. Never touched you, when I could see how scared you were. I wasn’t in my right mind, it felt like.. like you were rejecting me.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Regulus breathes, “It made me see..” 

“See what?” James’s voice is a whisper. 

“That you were right, James. I.. I’ve been saying I could love you, but really..I wasn’t letting myself.. It’s in there, I just,” Regulus teases the skin of his bottom lip with his tongue, wetting it,  “Need you to pull it out for me.”

Regulus brings his hands up the front of James’s shirts, a suggestive stroke of his palms that has James looking down at them, and then back to Regulus’s eyes. 

Regulus is pleading, silently. Please understand . 

He sees it in James’s eyes when that understanding dawns. 

James’s eyes heat and his voice comes out hoarse when he asks, “You need me to take it from you, baby?” 

“Uh-huh..” Regulus keens quietly, “Want you to, don’t stop, don’t take no for an answer, make me give it to you.” 

“You want me?” James confirms.

“Want you. Want you so bad, Jamie.” 

“You love me,” James tastes the words on his tongue, foreign and strange, the hand that was cupping Regulus’s chin finding its way into his hair and tugging his chin up when Regulus doesn’t answer, “But you need me to dig it up, pry it out of you?”

“Yesss..” Regulus hisses. 

James leans in, teeth grazing Regulus’s ears, “What if I don’t want to? ” 

Regulus whimpers. “You love the chase..” 

“Hmm,” James bites down, and it’s not a soft closing of teeth. It's hard enough to leave little indents in his lobe. “Then you better run , pretty thing.” 

*

Regulus has very little space to actually run in this flat but he does, he flees, side steps James, trips over furniture, they knock pictures off of the wall at one point and both pause to laugh about it before Regulus remembers that he is suppose to be pray, and books it to James’s room.

He circles the bed, James hops over it, very nearly catches Regulus but that would just be too fucking easy for him, so Regulus races from the room just after James’s fingers graze his jersey. They make loops through the living room, Regulus pulls some acrobatics out of absolutely nowhere and hikes himself up over the couch, fitting between it and the hall. 

James grins , evil and mischievous when Regulus leans over it, nearly falling just to plant a teasing kiss on his lips and then dart away again, down the hall. 

“Oh, I’m going to make you pay for that.” He calls after Regulus’s retreating form. 

Good, I want you to. Regulus thinks cheerfully. “No!” He yells behind him instead.

James catches up with him of course, because it's a two bedroom, the hallway is short and he’s shut the doors behind him so Regulus has nowhere to go. “Don’t touch me.” Regulus warns, hands palms up. 

James advances, gaze of a predator, smile of the devil himself. “You think you can stop me?” 

“No,” He whines when James hand grips his shirt, jerks him forward. 

“You don’t want me to touch you here?” James fingers graze over his erection.

“No,” Regulus breathes.

“You don’t want me to strip you down and take you in the hallway?”

“No..” Regulus shakes his head.

“Then use your safe word.” James dares .

“No.” Regulus bites back.

He finds himself undressed by hurried fingers, and complains when he’s lifted and kissed to within an inch of his life. He pretends not to want to be kissed, for a while. Bites and pulls away, turns against the tide of lips so that James has to grip his jaw and turn him back. His legs hug James’s waist if only to ensure he doesn’t fall and his hands are in his hair, a violent mashing of faces as they come together, as James forces himself inside.

He loves this slick slide, spasms around him when James growls, “Look at me. Fucking look at me .” 

Regulus only has eyes for him at this moment. Can only look at him, is tethered to this experience only by his light.  

“Love,”James slams into him, “Me.” 

“Fuck, fuck!” Regulus cries, he throws his head back and it hits with an echo against a door. Except, Regulus can see James’s bedroom door behind the man’s shoulders, so this door, its.. 

“I love that you love him, baby, I do,” James pants, like he needs to say it, like he needs Regulus to know that behind his jealous remarks, their grand design includes others and that's okay . 

"I know. I know!" Regulus does know. He arches his hips into the undulating sway of James’s pace, along for the wild ride of abandon. 

James takes hold of his hair, slams his head back hard, and it makes him dizzy. “Say you love me.” He growls, a harsh thrust of his hips. Regulus can swear he feels in his stomach. 

“Oh god, uh, uh, uh,” Spills out instead.

“Say it, spit. It. Out.” He punctuates his words with more punishment. Regulus would happily take this eternally. 

“I.. ah, ah, unfg, I do, I do,” He babbles as he’s fucked. As he realizes he is fucked. 

He has a spiritual awakening when James coos, “That was fucking pathetic, you can do better then that.” 

Regulus must have died. It’s the only explanation for the heavens that open up around him when James slaps his cheek. Grips his jaw. Forces his mouth open with his tongue and debases him into confession. 

“You love this.” He growls, anger in his voice, simmering low, slamming home. 

“Love that I know just how to have you.” Again, a thrust so harsh that Regulus is useless but to take it. 

 “You love me.” 

“I love you!” They say it together, James’s voice sure and heady, Regulus’s a cry. 

James rips away from the door, backwards the whole way into his own room and slams him down onto his back on the bed. They bounce, it makes the friction feel funny and yet when James comes down on top of him he is right back to blissful indifference to anything except the angles at which James fucks him, the words which he spits in his ears. 

“Move in with me.” James huffs, almost as an afterthought, as if that isn’t what triggered this collision. 

“I have one condition,” Regulus moans, head tipped back in ecstasy, agreeable to anything, but unmovable in this one request.

“Anything. I’ll give you anything.” 

“The tiny furry bomb..” 

James pauses his movements, waits. 

“Her name is Bambi.” 

The laugh that rips itself from James’s chest is infectious. It is the nicest sound Regulus has ever heard, and he grins at the ring of it. 

“Bambi?” 

“Bambi.” 

“Okay. Okay, fuck, I can’t wait to tell Sirius.” 

James pulls Regulus’s legs up and it brokes the light moment as he forces them to fold back over his chest and Regulus immediately grips under his thighs to keep them there. 

He’s fully exposed, prick bouncing on his stomach as James resumes, fucks into him. His boyfriend is a vision, light from a lamp illuminating behind him. Curls damp, hanging down around his eyes, chest heaving, bottom lip sucked in past his teeth. 

Regulus is seeing god. He is seeing his reason for belief. For hope and faith and devotion. He loves this man, who loves him, who gives him what he needs so willingly. 

There is love spread between them in abundance.

Sticky and wet, cooling on their skin, reheated when they go again. 

It coats Regulus’s tongue, his teeth, his throat, and James feeds him more with an eager, slightly mortifying pension for embarrasing Regulus in all of the best fucking ways. 

James’s anger has given way to forgiveness that Regulus earned, on his knees in the safest of ways, on the soft of the carpet, being held and praised the entire time. 

Regulus thinks he will never, ever get tired of the way James looks at him when Regulus repeats, over and over again, that he loves him. 

It’s unprompted now, unburied, raised from its tomb and spilling over, making a home on his lips like he doesn’t know any other language. 

Even in the quiet hours of the very early morning, when they are both spent and Regulus is laying languidly with his chin resting atop James’s chest, he can’t help but continue to say it. 

James strokes his hair, his face, his eyebrows and his nose and the curves of his cheeks. It grounds Regulus where he is, it reminds him he is safe. 

“You’re so beautiful in the moonlight.” James whispers to him like a secret. 

Regulus thinks of the change that Remus has prompted in him, this better understanding of himself and the people around him, and wonders if that has made all of the difference, or if James is being literal. 

“I once compared you to the sun,” Regulus muses as he studies the curve of James’s jaw, the soft arch of his brows and the sweet sweep of his eyelashes against the tops of his cheeks.

“You don’t anymore?” James asks, made curious by his tone. 

“Nope,” Regulus confirms with a soft, rueful smile. 

“Why not? Lost my shine, have I, pretty thing?”

“Not at all, you are entirely reflective of the light, still, love, bright and glowing,” Regulus grins sheepishly, “But the sun, she’s too much like the stars. Bigger, better, she outshines them in a way that isn’t particularly nice. She’s also the opposite of the moon. Two sides of the same coin, sure, but they spend their lives en passant (in passing).”

Regulus can feel the heat in his cheeks as James watches him, as he continues, “You, you’re our common center of mass, Jamie. You are the thing we are all tethered to. Without you, we would all hang separately in the sky, drifting alone in this endless night. Without you, there is no greater reason for us to come together. To be seen together. To love one another.” 

Regulus blinks back tears, voice choked with sincerity, soft as the whispers of ghosts in the night when he admits, “You’re our earth.” 

Chapter Text

Regulus finds himself thinking that all of his panic, and all of Pandora’s talk of cat maintenance and kitten attitudes was all for not when the tiny little bomb, Bambi , spends the day asleep in various positions on him, on James, on Sirius. 

She eats her kitten food when they eat dinner, this wet, fishy smelling mess but she seems to love it, and digs in with a fervor. James and Regulus had gone shopping, gotten a litter box and toys and cat trees. Even this fun little electric toy that spins a mouse around and around, teasing the cat with treats. 

They also get her a collar, and they get it engraved, a teeny tiny circle hanging from it with even smaller numbers because there are four on there. Four emergency contacts, because Regulus insisted they all needed to be reachable if she was lost and found or something.

James had laughed that it was overkill. 

Sirius had pouted, when he saw his number came fourth, under Remus’s. “Why is mine last? I live in the flat?” 

“You’re unreliable,” Regulus had pointed out flatly, “And Remus is a vet.”

“Rude..” Sirius had mumbled, but sat on the floor and played with the kitten anyway. 

She was rather easy to entertain, and she tired quickly, so really, Regulus didn’t see what all of this “Important: Tire her out before you go to bed” nonsense was about.. until it was 2am and she was climbing up the curtains and bouncing off of them, sharp claws landing repeatedly onto the exposed skin of his stomach, of James’s back. 

When her tongue got stuck on the curls of James’s hair, his boyfriend had, had enough. “Take your cat to the kitchen,” He’d grumbled, “feed it something to make it sleep.” 

James was always irritable when sleepy, or in this case, half asleep and sick of being cut up by tiny talons. 

“She’s your cat, I tried to give her back.” 

“You named her, she’s yours.” 

“That’s some Lovegood nonsense.” 

“Then call me Panda, and get out of the bed with that thing because honestly Reggie, you’re not her type anyway.” 

“That makes no sense,” He complained, but he rolled out of bed in just his sleep shorts, scooped up the kitten and took her to the lounge. 

Regulus stopped dead at the sight of Sirius sitting on the couch, feet up on the table as he watched the telle in the dark. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks as he puts Bambi down and comes to sit next to his brother. 

Sirius drapes an arm around Regulus’s shoulders, over the couch so they’re hardly touching but it’s still so intimate, just the two of them in the dark like this. “Nah. You?” 

“Bambi was terrorizing James, he kicked us out.” 

Sirius chuckled, “Oh, the joys of parenthood.”

“It’s just a cat, we’re not parents.” Regulus mumbles, but Sirius just smiles at him and shakes his head.

“Do you even like cats?” 

“Not as much as I like dogs.” 

“How did you know you liked dogs, when you left home?” Regulus asks, curious because it’s never been explained to him how Sirius ended up working at, and then eventually owning, a dog shelter.

“I didn’t,” He explains, “But Pandora, she was an acquaintance at the time, we met when I worked in this little servo across the way and well, she came in one day and told me I was no good with customers, that my energy would mean that I would bond closely with the dogs at her shelter and that I should quit my job and come work for her.” 

“And you just.. did?”

“Gods, no.” Sirius laughs, “I told her I’d never been around dogs in my life and I would probably be terrible at it. Fought it for months until she brought one in, this little beagle named Pascall, and well.. that was that. The thing convinced me.” 

“It convinced you?” 

“It chased me around the store, made a solid mess, and I found myself on the floor behind the counter, laughing for the first time in months. I quit my job and started working for her the next day, and as it turns out, I’m good at it. Good enough to make partner, good enough for her to sell the business to when she decided to move on to cat rescuing and the shelter became a side thing for her.”

“Huh.. She didn’t tell me any of that when she was here.”

“Did you ask?” 

“No, but.. to be fair, I didn’t ask her many questions at all. She just talked and talked, like we were old friends. Like I was you.”

“Like you were me?” 

“She called me Tiny Sirius.” 

“Oh, oh my god.” Sirius laughs. “Sounds like Panda.” 

They watch tv together quietly, and Bambi eventually tires of her toy mouse and settles into the arm chair across from them. Regulus has sunk down in the couch, head against Sirius’s chest, calm and happy there. 

His brother strokes a hand through his hair, slowly, so slowly encouraging Regulus’s head down to his lap. 

Regulus knows his brother means for him to sleep, and yet he can’t convince himself to ignore the stiffness underneath his cheek. He turns, mouths at it, drawing a breathy gasp from Sirius. “Reg..” 

“Hmm..” Regulus hums against the bulge, finding the button on his pajama pants and only showing off a little when he undoes it with his teeth. Sirius isn’t wearing underwear. 

Regulus is rewarded with the soft glide of warm, velvety skin against his lips. 

“Fuck.. Reg.. don’t tease me, please..” 

“Who says I’m teasing?” he mumbles against the length of him. He brings a careful hand up, pulling his brother out of his sleep pants, standing tall and proud in his hand. 

Sirius’s hand curls into his hair and pulls his head up, giving him purchase to open up his mouth and wrap his lips around the head of him. 

Regulus takes him in, sucks down the taste of salt and skin and Sirius. “Mm..” He moans against him. 

Sirius moans, quietly so as to not disturb the sleeping feline. 

Regulus sucks him off this way, slow and quiet. Languid slips of his tongue. He lets the wet drip from his mouth and cover his brother in slick and then he dutifully licks it all up again, repeating the process until Sirius is wasting his breath to warm him that he’s going to come, and Regulus is swallowing around him, not missing a drop of what his brother has to offer. 

“Sleep with me?” He asks as Regulus sits up, wipes off his mouth and delicately pushes his brother back into his pants again. 

“I just did,” Regulus says cheekily. 

“No, petite étoile, (little star,) Come sleep. In my bed.” 

“In your room?” Regulus asks, a bit startled. He hasn’t been in there yet, hasn’t even looked.

“That’s where my bed is.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Um.. Yeah, yeah, okay.” He agrees, and he follows Sirius shyly to his room, only feeling slightly bad about abandoning Bambi in the lounge.

This feels significant, this allowance into his brother's most private of spaces. Sirius has been in him, in his room, in his bed, but he had yet to let Regulus into his, until this moment. 

Sirius’s walls are a deep blue, the walls lined messily with posters and sketches and little photographs of him and his friends. Mostly, his friends. Mostly, Remus, whose gaze endows the walls over and over again, memories captured over a long time. 

Regulus blushes when Sirius drops his sleep pants, in favor of sleeping nude. He stalls, for some reason, brushing his fingers along the dresser drawers and moving over to look out of Sirius’s windows. Next to the window is a pile of canvases, piles of watercolor papers and sketchbooks and all sorts of paints and crayons and pencils on a wooden desk. 

“Wow..” he says and Sirius chuckles.

 “Wow?” 

“You’re kind of.. an artist.” Regulus points out as he flicks his fingers through the pile of thick papers, painted with various images. 

“What gave it away?” Sirius laughs offhandedly. He hears his brother come up behind him, feels his arms circle around him. 

“Looking for something in particular?” Sirius asks him. 

“Yeah, for the ones of me.” Regulus says jokingly, but Sirius huffs, leans down to open a door of the desk in front of him. 

“Those are all in here.” He says, tone serious. He leaves the drawer open and retreats back to the bed. 

Regulus stares. Stares, at the deep drawer filled with piles and piles of renditions of.. him. Albeit a younger him, but still, him. 

His brother was painting him . 

He picks up the top one, a dark painting, all blue and black hues of watercolor except for the ivory of his skin. It’s him in a hallway, lit only by an oil lamp, hand on the wall to guide him. He looks.. 

Regulus sighs. “You painted me so.. sad. I look sad.” This younger version of him, lost in the hallways as he so often was. He looks like a ghost.

“Mmm.. They’re old, Reg. The old you, or maybe, just the versions I would let myself remember sometimes.” 

Regulus swallows hard. He is not going to cry, he isn’t. He puts the painting back on top of the stack on the drawer and quietly closes it. He takes a deep breath, hardens himself against the nostalgia and climbs into bed with his brother. 

They curl up together like they used to, and Regulus falls asleep to the familiar warmth of his brother’s body around him, keeping him safe from the monsters in the night. The lonely hallways. 

*

Regulus wakes to the smooth inhalation of smoke and the purposeful blows of the cloudy air drifting through the cracked window. It’s a quiet, practiced sound, replaced a moment later with the sizzle of the bud of a fag being rubbed out into glass, and then the glide of wet bristles against rough sanded canvas. 

He nuzzles his face into the pillow under him, arms up and under it, bent at the elbows. He’s splayed out on his stomach, alone under black satin sheets that pool around his lower waist, just covering his backside. He’s got a leg hiked up, ankle and foot peaking out.

“Don’t move,” His brother mumbles, the sound of it muffled by something slipping around on his tongue. 

Regulus peaks his eyes open, but he stays lax against the comfortable mattress. He can’t see his brother, facing the other way as he is. “Come back to bed,” He mumbles, voice sleep crusted and rough. 

“Can’t sleep once the sun has graced us with her presence,” Sirius’s reply comes from behind him. 

“How poetic.” Regulus muses, closing his eyes once more, ever the picture of stillness for his brother’s gaze. 

A short while later, his brother announces, “You can move now, Reg.” The flick of a lighter and the sound of the red-tinged drag of paper follows. 

Regulus stretches out his limbs, bones popping, skin pulling as he goes before he sits upright. He drags a hand through his hair, pushing it back and taming it down. The sheets pool around his waist, leaving his chest exposed to the cooler air, no longer protected by the insulation of his body against the mattress. 

He shivers in the morning breeze, dropped further by the window opened inches to allow the cigarette smoke to leave the room. Regulus eyes the canvas, his brother half hidden behind it, wiping paint from his fingers. The cigarette hangs lazily between his lips. 

His brother looks beautiful naked, carefree and relaxed as the early light glows in hues around him. “You smoke?” Regulus asks as he stretches his arms up. 

“Mm..” Sirius takes the cigarette out of his mouth, eyes meeting Regulus’s for the first time this morning as it sizzles out against the glass ashtray once more. 

It’s a green glass bowl, not dissimilar to the one next to it that holds a handful of rounded white candies. Peppermints, he doesn’t doubt their flavor, as he watches Sirius pop one into his mouth. Force of habit, it seems, from the way he easily swishes it around his tongue and into his cheek. “When I paint,” his brother finishes. 

“Does Remus know?” Regulus asks teasingly. He leans forward where he sits to try and sneak a view of the canvas Sirius sits behind. 

Sirius eyes him warily. “No, and you’re not going to tell him.” 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Regulus pushes. He slides his legs over the side of the bed, pulling the sheet around his waist and walking the couple of steps to his brother, purposefully accentuating the tilt of his hips as he walks. He sinks down easily into Sirius’s lap, legs on either side of his thighs. “I like Remus, I don’t want to lie to him.” 

“You wouldn’t be lying, you’re just not going to mention it.” Sirius shrugs, arms coming down securely around Regulus’s thin waist, holding him where he is. 

Regulus leans in, a quick graze of his lips on his brothers to say good morning before he further instigates, “Why should I keep your secret, huh? They’re bad for your health, you know.” 

“You’re bad for my health,” Sirius grouses, leaning in to chase Regulus’s retreating lips. 

Regulus scoffs, shakes his head and tilts it away from Sirius’s searching lips. “Hmm, if I’m so bad, maybe you should stop indulging in me.” He waves a hand in the air, “Quit cold turkey.” 

“Oh, you are so bad.” Sirius pouts. His mouth finds the base of Regulus’s neck, sucking at the skin there until it tingles, turning purple. “What are little brother’s good for, if not to keep their older brother’s secrets, huh?” 

Regulus slides his hands into Sirius’s hair, fingernails grazing his scalp, scratching lightly. He undulates his hips, slow and sultry little circles as he purrs, “We can be good for all kinds of things.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius teases another spot, teeth grazing. It makes Regulus’s heart flutter, the condescension that drips from his tone. “What kinds of things can you be good for, taquiner? (tease?)” 

“I..” Regulus starts, but he’s cut off by footsteps approaching the door, a jiggle of the handle as they try it. Regulus’s eyebrows draw in when he realizes his brother has the door locked.

“Pads, you in there? Have you seen Reggie?” James calls from the other side of the door.

Regulus opens his mouth to call a reply, to tell his boyfriend he’ll be out in a bit but his brother’s hand comes up to cover his mouth with the palm of his hand. 

“Sorry Prongs,” he calls, “he went to run some errands! Told me to tell you, I forgot!” 

Regulus grunts his confusion, staring wide at Sirius who brings his other hand up, pointing his finger on his slips as an unspoken order. “Keep quiet” his eyes and the evil smirk behind the finger says. 

“He did?” James’s perplexed reply comes through the door. Regulus can hear his sullen mutter even as he starts to walk away, “Why didn’t he ask me to go to?” 

Once the footsteps drip away into silence and the quiet sound of the telle in the lounge can be heard, Regulus licks up Sirius’s palm, forcing him to move his hand away. 

“Ugh, ick, Reggie.” Sirius wipes his hand on the side of his thigh. 

“What was that about? Why didn’t you just tell him I’m in here?” Regulus demands in a hushed whisper. 

Sirius grins, eyes alight with mischief. His hands come up around the backs of Regulus’s thighs and he lifts him as he stands, taking a few steps back to the bed to drop him down there. 

Regulus lands with an exaggerated oof, hair spread wild around his head, legs and arms splayed. Sirius comes down on top of him, connected at the hips, erection pressed against his own center. His hands grasp Regulus’s wrists and pull them up above his head, leaning to support his weight on the bed so that his face hangs over his younger brother's. 

Their mouths are inches away, and Regulus watches with keen interest as his brother surveys the planes of his face. “I lied to him because I want to play..” 

“But we still could’ve..” Regulus starts to argue, but Sirius hushes him with a tilt of his hips. 

“Have you ever touched a boy before, Reggie?” Sirius coos quietly, eyes daring. 

And the question is.. ridiculous. Of course, he’s touched a boy before. Several times over, multiple men currently in this house, his brother, who hangs over him and whose intimate parts are currently touching his own. But Regulus gets the feeling, since he isn’t asking a serious question, that he doesn’t want a serious answer. 

He wants a pretend one. 

So, Regulus pretends. 

“I’m not gay,” Drops from his lips, a breathy whisper as he turns his wide eyes up to blink dumbly at his brother. 

Sirius’s eyes flash with pride when Regulus plays along. “That’s okay. It’s not gay if we pretend you’re a pretty girl, baby.” 

Oh. 

“Uh..” Regulus stammers, cheeks heating with a furious blush. 

“Come onnn,” Sirius probes with a solid rub of his cock against Regulus’s, “ Maman and Le Père (Mother and Father) won't ever have to know.” Regulus moans. 

His brother leans down, breathy whine in his ear when he says, “It’ll be our little secret, you just have to keep quiet. Can you do that for me, petite étoile? (little star?)”

“Oui..” Regulus whimpers, raising his hips to meet his brother's teasing.

  “Can I kiss you?” Sirius asks, a hair's breadth away from doing just that. 

“Please.” 

Sirius leans in, presses his lips fleetingly against Regulus’s before pulling away to say, “Not like that, open your mouth a little.” 

Regulus’s lips part on a gasp, leaning into the part with a wet tongue when Sirius comes back down, squeezes his tongue between his lips messily. They kiss like it's the first one, the skill-less probe of adolescence. 

Sirius lets go of Regulus’s wrists to glide them down Regulus’s sides, and it’s so light, so timid, it tickles and makes Regulus squirm. 

“Hold still,” his brother chastises. 

“Why?” Regulus tries to kiss him again, further squirming until his cock is free from the covers it was previously hidden under. “Oh..” he gasps. 

“Fuck..” Sirius gasps, and he slips a hand between them to curiously feel around the sensitive ridge of his length. Sirius noses around against Regulus’s jaw as he says, “You're so swollen, baby.” 

Regulus whimpers. “Siri, that’s my..” 

“Your clit, I know. And this..” Sirius’s curious hand dips down. He skims the swollen sack underneath his prick, past the smooth skin to the hole that clenches when he fingers at it, “Is called a pussy. Do you touch yourself down here, sweetheart? Hmm?” 

Regulus shakes his head, but Sirius’s other hand holds his chin, making him look when he says. “I bet you do. Bet you get it all nice and wet and finger it when you’re alone in your bed at night.”

He’s so close, breath warm on Regulus’s mouth when says, “Bet you touch yourself when I’m there too. Do you? Do you think of your older brother next to you, asleep and unaware while you finger yourself, hmm? 

Regulus swallows hard. “Yes, yes, I think of you. W-wish you would wake up and catch me, touch me there too.” 

“I’m awake now,” Sirius points out. He pushes himself up to his knees, spreads Regulus’s legs wide in order to have a good view, his own hard cock in hand, “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?”

Regulus complies readily, spreading his thighs wider, hand coming down around his prick while the other reaches up towards his brother, two fingers out. “Will you wet them for me, Siri?” He asks in the sweetest of tones. Innocent and alluring, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks when he bats his eyes. 

Sirius breathes in harshly, hand squeezing his base. He leans down to take Regulus’s wrist and brings his hand up. Fingers slip into his brother’s mouth, wet tongue winding around them and sliding roughly against the palms. 

When Sirius hollows his cheeks, looks Regulus dead in the eye and sucks, Regulus can’t hold in the whiny moan that leaves him. His fingers fly on his dick, pulling pleasure up from his roots. 

Sirius pulls the fingers out of his mouth and brings them down, aiming them between the crack of his buttcheeks. “Finger yourself open for me,” he says in a rough voice. 

He does so with shy excitement etched into his features. Watches Sirius as Sirius watches him, jacks himself off while he watches Regulus stuff his fingers into his tight hole, in and out for his older brother's perverse pleasure.

It’s heady, this game that they’re playing, the locked door and the hushed voices. It’s a glimpse at would could’ve been if Sirius hadn’t left, but they have it now and its better because they both know how to fuck and yet they play innocent. 

Sirius pretends Regulus is a girl , looks at him like he’s some pretty thing to be spread open and used and Regulus has never felt more attractive then when those heated eyes are aimed at him like this. 

He leans into the headspace, lets himself sink into the softness. “I’m so wet,” He whimpers. 

Sirius shushes him with a look and a low, “I know, baby, I know. Little bit more, that’s it. Rub your clit for me.. Good girl. So good.” 

Regulus does rub himself, not too much or he’ll spill, but he pushes his length down against his thigh and rubs circles against his shaft with his first two fingers, squishes it with the pressure. “Oh god!” He gasps when Sirius leans down, erection fucking against his clit as his brothers hot, wet mouth latches onto his nipple and suckles there. 

“Mm.. Such pert tits,” he mumbles against his skin before nipping, pulling, dragging a cry from Regulus that he smothers with his palm once more. 

His mouth moves to the other one and repeats the treatment. “Wanted to suck on these ever since they got all pointy. You taste so sweet, baby.” 

Sirius humps against him, the movements accentuating the glide of his fingers inside. “Please,” he whimpers. 

“Has anyone ever popped your cherry, hmm?” 

“...My?” Regulus gasps behind the palm that quiets him. 

Sirius brings his face in close, removes his hand and speaks into the open crevice of Regulus’s mouth, sharing breath, sharing knowledge, sharing fantasy. “Have you ever let a boy put their cock in that pretty hole of yours?” 

“N-no,” Regulus shakes his head, “No Siri. Do you.. do you want to?” 

“I do,” Sirius purrs, leans in to kiss him again, “Will you let me?” 

“I-It’ll hurt..” he gasps, because it will. He’s got two fingers in there now but his brother is long and losing your virginity hurts, right? 

“Mm..” the sound vibrates against his mouth, “I’ll make it hurt so good . Rub your clit and everything. Please, Reggie? I wanna feel how tight you are..” 

Regulus’s head tips back and he moans, a high, needy sound. “Please, oh god, please Siri.” 

“Please what?” Sirius grins against the column of his throat, against his Adam's apple.

“Please put your cock in me. I want it. Want you.” 

“Anything for you, doll.” Sirius nuzzles him before sitting back on his thighs once more. 

Regulus lets his fingers slip from his hole, pulls his legs back at the insistence of Sirius’s hands, holds himself open while his brother lines himself up. 

“Slow,” he gasps for dramatic effect as he feels the head of his cock breach the tight ring of muscle. 

“I’m gonna go so slow. So gentle. Going to fill you up real good.” Sirius groans as Regulus’s tight heat envelopes him, beckons him in, squeezes with an implied stay here forever, you belong here, I’m yours .

Regulus’s breath is shaky, eyes closed as Sirius pushes into the hilt, stretches him open, stays still long enough for his body to relax around him. “Fuuuuuck..” He groans, “Can I move? Please Reggie, it’s too much, I need to move.” 

Regulus’s hands go down to the sheets. They curl and grip, he holds himself still as he begs, “Move. Move, Siri, pleeease!” 

Sirius falls forward, hands on top of Regulus’s and he moves . Thrusts in, even though he’s already deeply seated, then pulls out to the tip and fucks in again, nice and slow. Too fucking slow, but it’s how it would go if Regulus really was a virgin, so he doesn’t complain. 

He throws his head back, slams his mouth shut against the scream that threatens to burst from him when Sirius does it again, this time harshly and without rhythm. Like he’s never done it before either. 

“Oh my god. You feel so fucking good. never going to stop fucking you,” He babbles as he moves his hips, grinds his younger brother down into the mattress. 

“What if..” Regulus hisses, “What if they catch us?” 

“They won't, they won't,” Sirius cups his face, brings his own down, “Kiss me. They won't.”

They kiss and it’s wet, it's messy, it’s a lot of panting and tongues against cheeks but it stifles their moans well enough. Regulus reaches around his brother to hold him by the shoulders, fingernails digging in. 

“Oh god, I can feel you in my stomach, Siri, is that normal? It feels.. oh, it feels wrong, this feels wrong, Siri, somethings happening..” 

This makes Sirius’s hips jerk. He gasps, stills, grounds out, “Need a second.” And Regulus opens his eyes to see his brother’s eyes squeezed shut . His arms are trembling where he holds himself up. 

“Frère?” (“Brother?”)

Sirius groans. Loudly, unrestrained, he kisses Regulus harshly and then he’s back to moving, instilling a quick pace that knocks Regulus’s hips almost painfully. 

His brother seems to have lost his voice, head falling against Regulus’s chest while he grinds in and out, fucking him loose. 

The bed creaks and drags on the floor underneath him and briefly, Regulus wonders how Remus manages to do this to Sirius with it so unstable as it is, before he remembers he’s not ever seen Remus stay here. 

Sirius gasps, startles, his hand comes down over Regulus’s mouth once more, and just as Regulus hears those footsteps approaching the door again Sirius shifts them. He pulls out with a pop that causes Regulus to gasp, but its stifled by the way Sirius flips him over and pushes his head into the pillow. 

Regulus bites fabric as his brother lifts his hips, spits onto his hand and then his damp cock is slipping smoothly back inside of him. 

There’s another knock on the door and Sirius is grinding slowly, deeply into him as James calls, “Did Reg say when he was going to be back?”

Regulus squeezes the pillow in his palms. Smothers his face so he can’t breath, can’t make noise when the tip of his brother’s prick repeatedly, fucking relentlessly presses against that all too sensitive spot inside him. 

“No, sorry!” Sirius calls, voice thick. 

“Okay… did you want to come out for a run with me? I’m bored.” Regulus can picture James shuffling on his feet, pouty expression on his face. 

“No thanks. Don’t feel well,” Sirius grinds out as he grinds in to Regulus’s ass, hands gripping his cheeks, pulling them wide apart. He leans down, fakes a cough and then spits where they’re connected.

“uh.. uh, uh, uh,” Regulus whimpers into the pillow, soundless and so it wracks through his body, making his cock jump in tune. 

“Oh.. Do you want to come out and watch a movie then? I could make you soup?” 

“James, no offense, but I’m having a really.” sharp thrust in. 

“Hard.” Another one.

“Time.” In so deep that Regulus can feel the bulge of him pressing out of his lower stomach. 

“Right now. I’m just going to stay in bed!” 

“Okay.. okay fine, sorry.. I’m just.. gonna go for a run alone then.” James grumbles. 

As his footsteps retreat, Regulus can’t help the way it makes his cock ache, his boyfriend all frustrated and lonely while he’s inside this room getting fucked by his brother. He’ll make it upto him later, but it's hot, and it further perpetuates the taboo of this game they’re playing. 

“There, see,” Sirius grounds out, gripping Regulus’s hair and pulling his head up. 

Regulus gasps, whines loudly. 

“We won’t get in trouble if nobody knows how well you take your brother’s dick baby.” 

“Oh.. fuck, fuck me, ah..” 

“Won’t ever have to stop, if nobody knows. I can fuck you whenever I want, stuff you full. You want that? You want me to sneak in here and breed you like one of those slutty girls they bring around for me?” 

That hits a nerve. An alighting of cells, the flash of a sneering blond face. “I’m sorry for your loss.” But I’m not, I’m not. Plays on a loop in Regulus’s head because he hasn’t lost anything at all now. He’s being filled with that thing he mourned and he thinks if he’d had this when they were kids, Sirius leaving really would’ve killed him. 

“Yes, yes Siri! Fuck, breed me. Make me your wife. I can be everything you need, every hole, you don’t need them!” He cries. 

“Don’t need them. Don’t want them. Have you, shit, you’re so fucking tight. Touch your clit. Go on. I’m gonna fill you up with so much seed, baby, didn’t even put a condom on. Gonna fuck you pregnant.”

Regulus reaches down underneath and his hand flies against his clit. He jerks so hard he sees that funny cloud of white that always steals his vision when he’s about to come so hard he sees stars. 

Sirius jerks his hair, growls, “Wanna see you swollen with my babies. Gonna come right up your fucking cervix and then I’m gonna plug it up so none of it can leak out this pretty hole.”

He screams, a choked noise because of the harsh angle that his head is being pulled at as he dumps a sticky load all over his brother's nice, clean sheet. “Siri!” 

Sirius shoves his knees apart, makes him slip down. Forces him to collapse into the wet mess he’s just made and spread it into his skin as Sirius drapes over top of him, face pressed into the scars at Regulus’s back. 

He tongues them, teeths at them, mouth hot and heavy and spilling animalistic sounds as his hips stutter and liquid heat fills Regulus up from the inside. 

Sirius’s thrusts slow, but he grinds and humps, almost lazily milking as much of his release as he can from his cock and forcing it up, up, up as far as it will go. 

Regulus is trembling, his breath catching in his throat and his limbs going numb, twitching. His brother is still on his back for a while, also catching his breath before he pulls himself out with a wet “Squelch” sound. 

He lowers himself down Regulus’s body with slow kisses before he inserts two fingers inside of his messy hole. His head lays against Regulus’s thigh as he plays, pushes and twists and finger fucks Regulus to orgasm all over again until Regulus is humping the mattress and coming a second time. 

Regulus is dizzy with bliss. Thoroughly sated, spread out and he doesn’t even mind that Sirius is still playing with his own come in his little brother’s ass. He thinks its fucking dirty, fucking hot. He closes his eyes for a little while and lets his head swim.

When he opens them again he’s been pulled atop Sirius’s chest. His brother lays back against the headboard, fingers tracing the wounds on his back almost unconsciously as he stares up at the ceiling. Regulus makes a little “Mm..” Sound at the lazy massage.

Sirius looks down to see him awake, giving him a soft smile. “Hey.”

“Hey..” Regulus sighs, happily cuddling closer. 

“You with me?” Sirius breaths, kissing atop his head.

 “Not quite..” Regulus replies honestly, closing his eyes once more to nuzzle into his brother’s chest. 

“That’s okay. Take your time, baby, sleep some more.” 

Regulus doesn’t sleep, but he lays there, quiet and still long enough that Sirius either does think he’s asleep, or at the very least doesn’t want him fully conscious for when he says, “I fucked one of them, you know. One of the girls. Bella-, something or other.”

Regulus very minutely looks up, and Sirius is watching him intently. Bella was Narcissa’s older sister, by a year. She was offered up before Narcissa was, and came to dinners multiple times before she was rejected. 

She was pretty. Short, pale skin, curly dark hair.. not unlike him. She really was a pretty girl. Regulus’s heart hurts, even though it makes sense for Sirius to have been attracted to her. To have been intimate with her. Even if it chokes him up with jealousy. 

Its this masochistic streak in him, he thinks, that has him asking rather petulantly, “Is that who you were thinking of when you taught me how to touch myself? Did you look at me and picture her?” 

Regulus could see it, it wasn’t a far stretch with the way he remembers Sirius watching him get off, that he might’ve added fuller breasts and longer hair to his body and pretended in order to get through the embarrassment of having to show his younger brother how to get a handle on his prepubescent body. It still stung, though.

But Sirius looks confused, and then he laughs . “No, Reggie. But when I was soft as pillows looking at her, I forced a condom on my prick and fucked it into her while I thought of you . It was the only way I could keep it up. I knew, then.” 

Regulus takes a second to digest this information before he asks, “That you weren’t attracted to girls?” 

“No, I already knew that. Don’t get me wrong, I am very attracted to feminine wiles.. when the person displaying them has a dick.” Regulus playfully flicks his nipple for making him smile, and Sirius hugs him closer. “That wasn’t new information for me, then.” 

“Then what was?” Regulus asks in whispers.

 “That I was extremely, disgustingly, viscerally attracted to my younger brother. To you.”

Oh. 

Regulus’s cheeks heat, and he hides in the crook of Sirius’s arm to wipe the silly smile off of his face before pushing himself up and climbing out of the bed. 

He steals the covers to wrap around him again, laughing at Sirius’s indignant, “Hey!” as he rushes around to plop himself down in the seat Sirius was using in front of the canvas while he painted.

He hugs the chilly fabric around his chest while he stares at what he realizes after several long, blank moments of disbelief, is himself, laid out on the bed in oil paints, soft yellows and pinks coloring his skin from the morning light. 

The blush returns, a solid rouge on his cheeks as he takes in his slightly open mouth, his hair in untamable swirls, his back.. his back, marked up and marred, but painted with golden, sparkling constellations over each scar. Canis Major splayed across the upper left hand of his back, Sirius shining brightly over the largest circular disfigurement. 

Regulus lets out a quiet gasp, sucks it back in as he brings his hand up to cover his mouth. 

“Is it okay?” His brother leans back, arms crossed behind his head, shy smile on his face, “You were right when you said I painted you so sad. I wanted to memorialize the vision I had in front of me this morning, soft and sated and sleepy as you were. You looked.. happy.” 

“C’est beau.” (“It’s beautiful.”) Regulus breaths, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

"je sais que vous êtes." (“I know you are.”)

Chapter Text

Remus Lupin was no stranger to scars. He carried them on over 40% of his skin, and that was just the physical representation of what he’d endured. The emotional effects of being mauled by a dog when you’re four are all encompassing, and coupled with the immense bullying that chases you out of public school before you can even pass year three, well. Those could kill a weaker man. 

Remus was the unofficial boy-who-lived in the small market town of Abergavenny, he’d lost most of the blood in his body by the time he’d reached the closest hospital, and by all accounts he should have died, but he didn't. He spent two months in inpatient treatment there. Two long months on bed-rest, unable to move most of your body due to the stitches and the pain, takes a mental toll on a small child. 

Remus was antsy, he had a hard time keeping still on a good day and so being locked in a room with hardly anything to do and stuck still as he was, the small telle in the corner of the room as his only source of entertainment, Remus did the only thing he could do.

He avoided the torture of immobility by occupying his mind. He taught himself to read. The subtitles were on, and he could listen to the dialogue and then pause the channel before the words across the screen could move away. He would sound them out, add them together to make the words he’d heard, and he’d have the nurses quiz him when they came for check ins. 

His family didn’t visit. They couldn’t, poor as they were, adult Remus understood this but it left four year old Remus thinking he was unwanted, now. Damaged goods, a burden to be discarded, and he accepted this as fact without questioning if actions properly expressed feelings or if he was taking into account the intentions of the people who were deciding his worth before he was old enough to know for himself that he should’ve. This emotional scar, however, was a silent swelling that he hardly noticed until it was too late for it to be bandaged and salved into healing. 

It suffices to say that this, coupled with the cruelty of adolescence, saw Remus shy away from his peers, disconnect from his parents so that he could retreat to somewhere solitary and quiet within himself. Somewhere he didn’t have to question intent, end as the butt of a joke he didn’t know was being told, or strain himself mimicking the expressions of people around him for their benefit. 

He found solace among the quiet shelves of the little town library. He spent most of his days there, homeschooling long finished by noon leaving him plenty of time to read about all of the things he didn’t understand about other people, but wanted to.

He read about the nuances of facial expressions, their connection to the emotions being expressed by said individual. He could admit he was quite stumped about the often large disconnect between thought and speech and action. He wished people would just say what they mean, do as they intend. It’s what he did, he had a hard time projecting a feeling that wasn’t an accurate representation of the things bubbling inside of him, but there were also often times where he found there was nothing simmering there, and so his face said nothing, his tone flat. 

He sat alone at his little table in a dim corner of the library, where the yellow of the lamps barely reached, reading all about the characteristics of what it meant to be human. But for all of his study into the ways in which a person could be unknowingly mislead, he still played capture the flag with all of the red ones that hung around the head of one Severus Snape, when at the age of fifteen, Remus Lupin caught his attention and promptly fell in love with him. 

The boy was lanky, not unattractive but clearly a bit unkempt, thin black hair that held a sheen of oil which he kept tucked behind his ears. His eyes were a dull brown, not entirely expressive, they lacked that layer of boyish mischief other’s their age still held. He sat himself down at Remus’s table, not a word shared between them before he took the seat opposite him and opened up his books. 

Remus cleared his throat unobtrusively. Twice, before the boy before him looked up. “There’s plenty of seating in this library.” Remus pointed out, not unkindly, just an observation. 

“And I’ve chosen this one.” His new table partner shrugged, an eyebrow raised. “What of it?” 

“This is my table.” 

“I don’t see your name on it anywhere.” 

Remus’s eyebrows scrunched at what felt like an accusation from the stranger, “Well, of course not, to put my name on it would be defacement of public property.” 

“Perhaps the librarian will make you a placard, then.” The boy crossed his arms, leaning back in the rickety old chair. 

Remus thought, actually, that was a fairly good idea. He was here often enough, and no one ever graced this part of the library because it was hard to read in and in full draft of the doors as it was and-.. “You’re.. playing with me.” Remus noted as he noticed the smirk slowly lighting up the boy's face. 

“I am.” He acknowledged in a drawl, smile growing. 

Remus leaned back, clearly startled. “Why?” 

“I’ve seen you around. You’re not like other guys, you’re.. interesting.” The boy had long legs, and as he stretched languidly, a shoe came to press against the side of Remus’s. The contact, while unexpected, was not entirely.. unwelcome, to Remus, who wasn’t used to any sort of positive attention. 

Actually, he couldn’t be sure this was positive, and so he asked, “Is that a compliment?”

“Would you like it to be?” 

Remus felt his cheeks heat inexplicably. He avoided the question with a careful, “If you’re to sit here we should at least know each other’s names. Mine’s Remus.” 

“Severus. It’s a pleasure.” 

Remus nodded. Introductions over, he went back to his books, and Severus followed suit. Severus didn’t move his foot, but Remus’s legs were frozen where they were, not even bouncing as they normally would. He didn’t think he absorbed a lick of what he read, all focus zeroed in on that one, barely there point of contact. He snuck glances up, but if Severus even realized what he was doing, that he was touching him, he didn’t show it. 

They read for several hours in silence, the clock reading close to 6pm before Severus closed his books, slid back his foot and excused himself. Remus found himself only slightly annoyed that he would have to reread each portion he’d tried to get through today.

Except, his plans were foiled when for the rest of the week, promptly at 2:15pm, Severus would waltz into the library and make himself comfortable across the table from Remus. They had nary a conversation, but at some point during each encounter, that foot would slide back to his, as if an unconscious action. It was unchartable, always happening at different points of the late afternoon, and while Remus hated surprises, he found himself on the edge of anticipation, waiting for it each time, wondering if it would be sooner or later. 

It was while he was waiting, rather early into their silent encounter on a Tuesday afternoon when Severus, without looking up from his own book, casually asked, “You speak French?” 

Remus jerked from the sudden sound so close to him, and then looked away from his book  (One on the social statuses in post-war France, written in French) towards Severus who was so pointedly not looking at him. The lack of necessity for eye contact allowed Remus to take in his expression, one of polite interest with that sharp eyebrow raised, before dropping his own eyes again to say, “I read it. I thought it would be easier to learn to speak it if I knew what the words I was looking at meant first.” 

“Why do you want to speak French? We’re in Wales.” Severus asked, but no judgment colored his tone. Remus thought his motive for answering so plainly may have been from the genuine curiosity he gleaned from the question. 

“I’d like to visit someday. I think it’s a beautiful country and it has such a rich culture.” 

He saw, from just a brief glance up that Severus nodded before his eyes resumed scanning his own pages. After several minutes, the tome he held hit the table with a thud, and Remus looked up. 

“I could teach you.” Severus shrugged.

“Teach me?” 

“French.” 

“You speak French?” 

“No, I thought to offer to teach you a language I couldn’t actually speak.” Severus deadpanned, “My mother is French, it's her native tongue.”  

Remus bit his lip, leg bouncing as he looked over the boy’s shoulder towards the librarians desk. She was busy stamping returns. “Why would you offer to teach me to speak French? What's in it for you?” 

“You don’t seem the type for small talk,” Severus answered honestly, “This gives us a chance to.. get to know each other, while avoiding it. Or at least while conversing in it in order to learn something.” 

“Oh..” The fact that Severus had inferred from their very short, almost always silent interactions that Remus would be uncomfortable with basic topics of polite conversation interrupting his reading was.. flattering; Remus found the unfamiliar emotion somewhere at the back of his head, on a properly dusty shelf of them. 

“So? Do you want me to?” 

“Yes, please.” Remus nodded his agreement. 

So began a month of French lessons, a month of afternoons where he and Severus would talk, Severus in a lot of french and Remus inserting any words he learned until he, too, could hold some basic conversations in the language, ask for things like books or pencils or the loo, and count and recite the alphabet. A month, where Severus continued to rest his foot against Remus’s.

“Come somewhere with me.” Severus said one day, books in hand, instead of sitting down like he normally would.

“Why?” Remus asked warily. 

“Because it’s a proper nice day outside.” Severus shrugged. 

“We always study in the library.” Remus said. I am always in the library between 9am and 7pm Monday-Saturday, he added internally, except on public holidays, wherein I borrow extra books and stay in my room to read them.

“Exactly, Lupin, we are always at the library. Come outside with me. I know a tree.” Severus threw him a crooked little smile, which confused Remus more. 

“You know a tree? Personally? Are you on a first name basis?” Remus muttered, annoyed. 

This made Severus double over, a laugh spilling from his mouth in abundant noise that had the librarian shushing him. “Sorry, sorry.” He choked as he wiped his eyes. 

“What’s so funny?” Remus guffawed, eyes wide at his acquaintance's outburst.

“It’s just that, oh, It’s just, I know you probably meant that very literally, but, that was almost sort of a joke, Lupin. A joke! You’re funny.” 

“I’m.. funny..” Remus tongued the words around his mouth, tasting them. He supposes maybe Severus’s air for the sarcastic was rubbing off on him, because it was very much like something the boy would say when he was playing. 

“Yes. Very. You should do that more often. And you should also come with me, because I have a very prominent suspicion that you would look very good with a tan, and the sun is out today so we should take advantage of her presence.” 

Remus could feel his cheeks turn red as his chest tightened. That was.. two compliments, he thinks, in the same conversation, and he was very much not used to garnering that kind of attention or reaction from others. It made him feel.. good. And so even though the change of his routine was an annoyance that unnerves him greatly, he found himself packing up his things and shoving them into his book bag to follow behind Severus, who had a rather smug grin on his face as he led him outside.

They didn’t go far, just down the road a little to a small park. It was sheltered by trees all around it, just a bench and a swing and a slide inside the sparse enclosure. Instead of leading them to the bench, though, Severus walked over a circle of not one, but three, trees, with a little dirt circle of space in between them. 

It was rather like a little fort, Remus thought, and the anxiety of being away from his space of safety in the library was mullified by the way he found himself mostly sheltered from any prying eye that may wander into the park. 

Severus sat with graceful legs after a brush of his trousers, and Remus went to sit across from him, but Severus waved his palm over to the spot next to him instead. It was a tight fit, both of them taller than your average fifteen year old and with their bags full of books, but Remus accepted the invitation and sat down next to him. 

He could feel the chill of Severus’s skin through his shirt sleeves, with their sides just short of touching as they were. In this new position, in this new place, Severus’s knee and ankle knocked his own as he moved his foot to once again touch Remus’s. Remus stared at the connection, but he said nothing and he didn’t move away. 

Severus was right, it was a beautiful day, and uninterrupted as they were even in the fresh air, Remus found himself enjoying the change of atmosphere for their lessons. They conversed more freely, out here in the open, and when Severus invited him to meet here the next day, Remus accepted.

One day turned into two, and three, and four and then it was weeks where, even when it slightly drizzled, they met in this sheltered fort of trees to practice French. 

They sat close, and closer, and Remus counted and noticed every brush of their skin when Severus would offer him a pencil or Remus would reach across to look at Severus’s pages of notes on French. 

This tentative friendship was the first of its kind for Remus, so much so that he couldn’t stop himself from asking once he had the words to. 

"Sommes nous amis?" ("Are we friends?") Remus asked, after having worked up the courage. 

Severus looked up at him, under his thin eyebrows and this close, Remus could notice the way his eyelashes were subtly lighter. "Non je ne pense pas." ("No, I don't think so.")

"Oh.." Remus replied, biting down on his lip as his heart sunk. Had he really misread the signs so badly?

"Je ne pense pas à mes amis comme je pense à toi, Lupin." ("I don't think of my friends the way I think of you, Lupin.")

Their conversation continued in french, but Remus was delighted to find it was easy. He was a quick learner, and he was right that knowing the words before he could pronounce them had helped. " Comment pensez-vous de moi?" ("How do you think of me?") 

"De manière inappropriée." ("Inappropriately.") 

Severus said under his breath, and Remus felt long fingers slide along his outer thigh. He took a sharp breath in, eyes widening.

"Comme... comment tu penses à un... petit ami ?" ("Like.. how you would think of a.. boyfriend?") Remus asked breathlessly.

Severus nodded his head. It seemed he was as at a loss for words as Remus was. No one had ever thought that way of him before. He was used to being thought of as weird, as awkward and ugly, all deformed as his skin was with jagged white marks that would never fully fade away for how deep that dog had ripped into his skin. 

No one had ever found him.. palatable. Or enjoyed his company in the way Severus implied that he did. And Severus certainly didn’t strike Remus as the type to do anything that he didn’t want to do, so Remus could only deduce that he wanted to spend his time with Remus. Did this make them boyfriends? 

Remus was suddenly plagued with all of the expectations he knew came along with relationships at their age. The courting and the talking and the.. romantic, things, that Remus himself had only a vague understanding of. It made him anxious, this sudden burden of something like responsibility towards his relationship to this man. 

A sense of something due, for the hours he’d spent indulging Remus’s interests and encouraging them. What did Severus want from him now, if they were boyfriends? And could Remus be comfortable giving it? He didn’t know, but he didn’t have to panic long before those fingers teasing his thigh lifted away, landing on his own digits which dug into the dirt of the earth under his tension.

“Relax. I don’t expect anything of you.” Severus said quietly, as if reading into Remus’s panic.

Remus let his eyes meet Severus’s in a brief show of connection when he admitted, “I just don’t know how to do that. How to do.. what boyfriends do, if that's what you want.” 

He glanced down and saw Severus’s throat bob before he said, voice hoarse, “I do, want those things. But only if you feel ready, and comfortable to do them. And, I could show you that too, if it would help.” 

“Like our French lessons?” Remus asked quietly. He wanted to please Severus, to show him he appreciated him, and he thought maybe, if it were something structured like his lessons, it would take the pressure of the unknown, and the dread of spontaneity away from the acts. Sex, he thought, they were talking about sex. 

“Yes, like those.” 

Remus licked his bottom lip, and softly agreed. “Alright.. yeah. I think.. I think that would help. I’d like that, too. I just need some time, I think.” 

“There’s no rush.” Severus nodded.

There really wasn’t. A rush. Their relationship continued, mostly platonic as it had been, small touches and closeness aside, for months. Severus turned seventeen a month before Remus turned sixteen and they didn’t wrap the things they gave each other for their birthdays, because Severus had asked, two months earlier, for a list of what Remus would want and so Remus asked the same, and both boys simply bought those requested items. 

Remus had asked for a book, and a pack of new page holders because there was nothing worse on this earth than dog eared pages. Severus had asked for a loaf of the banana bread Remus sometimes had for lunches, and a fork to eat it with. 

They got closer, and Remus found that if they were speaking in French, if there was a purpose for the conversations other than to get to know each other, he could enjoy sharing things about himself that he otherwise wouldn’t have given up. Some basic things, like which side of the bed he preferred and if he liked summer or winter best, and some weirder things, like the size of his favorite spoon or the order of things on the desk in his room at home. 

“I like you,” Severus would smile at his oddness.

He got to know Severus better as well, his favorite subjects in school, what he did on the weekends (His boyfriend was in several varied friend groups with whom he split his free time when he wasn’t with Remus) and then, most unfortunately, about the girl he was bringing to Christmas dinner.

This argument started with a “Why?”, ended with a “How could you?”, and Remus once again feeling the betrayal of rejection. Severus didn’t come to the library for a week, and Remus found himself reminded of pale white walls and small televisions and learning a language alone because he had no one to share it with. He didn’t know why he expected differently, but he had, and he’d let that expectation hurt him. 

And it did, hurt, worse so when Severus returned to the library but sat away from him. Across the library, at a different table. Remus’s nerves grew, his agitation picked and tingled under his skin and it only took two days before he was stalking over to the newly inhabited table and throwing himself down in the chair across from Severus, under harsh white lighting.

He had every intention of throwing a fit. Of demanding an apology. Of forcing Severus to bring him to Christmas dinner instead of this bitchy girl he’d chosen to show off to his parents instead of him. But Severus looked up at his book with feigned indifference and a soft tone when he said, “There are other places to sit.” 

“And I’m choosing this one.” Remus grumped, crossing his arms.

  A small smirk brushed Severus’s face. “Are you now?” 

“Y-yes. Yes I am.” 

“So you understand, then, why our relationship has to be between these shelves and under the trees, for now?”

Remus didn’t, not really, because he felt no shame in his attraction to other men. But looking at Severus now, smirking so playfully and voice lilted with something akin to hope, after not feeling his touch or enjoying his presence in the midst of their spat, Remus softened. 

“Yes,” He lied , and it tasted as bitter as it sounded.

Severus started asking for things after that. Asking for a kiss, Remus obliged. Asking for a cuddle, Remus let himself be hugged close, asking for a handjob.. Remus asked for instruction, and was given it behind the safety of their trees. 

Severus was patient although bossy, and Remus did his very best to make him spill, eventually accomplishing it. Severus nodded his thanks and they went back to their books like it never happened.

Try, rinse, repeat, gradually the things Severus would ask for became more , became too much , but Remus was too afraid to face another cold shoulder from his boyfriend who had become such an integral part of his daily life that he just.. did what Severus asked. Some things he liked, and some he very much didn’t, like when Severus insisted that he bottom because he was clearly not a top. 

Remus was ruffled by that insinuation, not that he understood why at the time, and isn’t exaggerating when he says that those days, when that was what Severus asked for, were the worst. But Severus also gave him attention, indulged him in intellectual debates and otherwise seemed to enjoy Remus’s company, even when he wasn’t doing those things, so..  

Things were good, and sometimes they were bad, but Remus thought it was worth it. When he turned seventeen, though, he saw himself wanting more. So Severus’s request for a list of presents had one very simple thing on it: “Tell your dad about us?” Because Remus couldn’t continue to be a lovely secret, and that’s what Severus treated him as. Seperate from real life. This thing he liked enough to have, but not to tell anyone about.

Severus exploded . “I thought you understood!” He yelled at Remus. 

“I lied!” Remus had been pushed by the argument to yell back. And it didn’t feel like the dust settled right after things went silent.  

He knew it hadn’t, when Severus packed his things up and once again left him under their trees. 

Remus was a solitary creature. He kept to his routines, even in the midst of turmoil, usually. Except, it would seem, when his boyfriend disappears off the face of the planet for an unquestionably long amount of time, he’s forced to surface amongst the town of familiar faces to find him because it occurs to Remus that after two years, he actually doesn’t know where Severus lives, or what he does outside of the library really. 

He goes where he thinks he would find him, bookstores and cafes and all of these quiet places where his boyfriend is not, in fact, hiding. When he does find him, it’s purely accidental, and ultimately, the end of his world as he had known it. 

He’s passing by this little theater, one that only plays shows during the middle of the day as it is, when he slams right smack into him. Literally, bodies clash and getting thrown apart and Remus gasps even as Severus scoffs and when they look up at each other, they both freeze.

Remus, because he’s surprised as fuck to see his boyfriend, who can’t so much as stand the telle in the library being on as background noise, coming out of the theatre. Severus, he assumes, because he’s with a whole group of friends, guys who wear basketball shorts and who are leering at Remus from behind Severus. 

“Sev..” He starts to say, but he’s interrupted by one of them. 

“Watch where you’re going, scarface! Or did you lose your vision when that dog tried to take your eye?”

Remus flinched, and took a step back. He ignored the man in favor of addressing Severus again when he said, “Can we talk?”

“No.” Severus spat, shaking his head, eyes still ridiculously wide. He looked.. panicked. And then, as Remus’s features fell at the dismissal, he thought he saw a brief moment of guilt before his face hardened and his back straightened. 

“Look, can you at least come back to the library and-,” 

“Nah, I’m done going there. It’s not worth it anymore.” 

Remus made a sound distinctly close to a whimper. “What?” 

Severus shrugged, and laughed when several of his group did too. 

“He got what he wanted from you, Fag!” One called.

“Yeah, lost me forty quid for it too!” Another yelped as one kicked him. 

“Forty quid?” Remus looked right at Severus when he stuttered out of confusion.

Severus swallowed hard, and then shrugged again, throwing his hands out to the sides, palms splayed. “Boys here were curious if those nasty scars of yours were anywhere else. Thought maybe that dog made you a Unich.” He laughed.

Remus covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the sob that threatened to rip itself from his throat. “What?”

“Turns out you are a ladyboy, but you’ve still got your bits hanging there, huh? Easy to ignore when I was balls deep in your pussy, though.” Severus laughed.

Remus felt like he was being mauled by that dog all over again. Scar after scar ripped open by unforgiving teeth. “You said.. I thought.. you liked me..” Remus breathed raggedly, vision going blurry. 

Not blurry enough, though, to miss the way that smirk that Remus had enjoyed so much turn into something cruel. Something twisted. Something sharp, sharp in a way that meant to kill. 

“You never asked the right questions, Lupin.” Severus drawled, “And when you did.. J’ai menti.” (“I lied.”)

*

He didn't stick around to let himself be further devoured by this pack of rabid animals. He knew, better than most, what happened when they'd had a taste of blood. 

He left the next week for Paris, alone and with nothing except a single pack and the meager savings his father had hoped he’d use to go to community college. But Remus didn’t want to go to college, he wanted to die. What better place to face the darkness that should’ve claimed him in childhood but The City of Light?

Remus doesn’t die in Paris, but he does, for a short time, meet love. It’s in front of the eiffel tower that a smaller man, dressed scandalously for the public atmosphere, tells him that if you give her respect, The Lady of Iron will grace your romantic endeavors with luck for the rest of your days. 

Remus scoffs at the myth, and the man says, “I am for sale, if you would like to pay your respects and then test out the luck she grants you.”

“Slavery is illegal.” Remus looks at him curiously. He takes in the swollen red lips and the sparkly glitter around his eyes and thinks he doesn’t look like the slaves that the history books depict. 

“ Non, not when the slave chooses it for themselves, it is not.” 

“And you choose it?” 

“I do. My body is a temple, and I enjoy when others pay to rejoice in it. My name is Pierre.” 

Sex, Remus realizes, he is selling sex . 

The man invites him to spend the night with him, for a price. A price that Remus pays because he is lonely and this man, Pierre, treats him kindly and that is really all it takes for Remus to fall again. 

Pierre takes him to a building that looks like a motel, but the raunchy kind that’s downstairs consists of the most salacious activities Remus has ever witnessed, and it piques his curiosity. He lets Remus top, and for all of his inexperience Pierre shows him how to open him up, how to move to please him and he moans loudly when Remus finds confidence in his strides.

He doesn't hold it against him, no, he holds him when Remus breaks down afterwards.  When it's all too much. Pulls him against his small chest and rubs his fingers through his hair until he calms down. 

"Do you do this for all of your emotionally unstable customers?" Remus tries his hand at a joke for the first time in a long time. 

"Non, only you, my marked one. I think you need it more than the others." 

Remus won't say it, because it's silly to feel this way about a whore, but Pierre makes him feel special. 

Remus pays him, doesn’t stay the night. He doesn’t stay any of the nights that he visits Pierre there, but he takes part in things his own sheltered mind could have never conjured from the confines of the small little town he grew up in. He learns from other customers how to tie knots, the right places on the throat to press into, the endless list of toys and gadgets that one might use to pleasure their lovers. 

He learns the role he likes to play. He learns he likes to be handed the metaphorical reigns of control, even as he entrusts the real thing into the palms of the submissive's hands.

More importantly, though, he learns consent. He learns that a yes doesn’t always mean yes, and a no doesn’t always mean no, but that hesitation always means pause, and a safeword always means stop. And it is the practical application of his intellectual knowledge that helps him finally understand the ways in which a person's words may lie but their bodies cannot help but tell the truth. He learns safe words, stop light systems, non verbal cues that he would otherwise have never understood.

He also learns how to give consent himself. This lesson takes him longer, the idea that he could say no on behalf of himself, not just on behalf of others, but he learns it quietly and takes it in with worshiped importance. 

He gets good. The boys he pays to fuck begin having customers pay him to do the things he does best. Tie them up, feel around their bodies for all of the sensitive places and the right words that make them come the hardest and Remus is good at this. In this setting, the pressure to understand another person is limited to the experience they are having at this moment, and it's his own little reward every single time he gets it right .

He loves to make them writhe, make them moan, make them come, make them happy. Feed them little deaths, over and over until they are well and truly removed from the world which had them begging at the doors of the taboo to begin with. He finds them all beautiful.

But he loves Pierre the most. They spend less time together as Remus gains in popularity, but Remus makes it a point to make the time, even when Pierre slowly stops searching him out. They stop trading money between their hands, and Remus starts spending the night.

Pierre knows Remus fucks other people. Remus knows Pierre does, too, it's their line of work and they don't discuss it. It is utterly unhealthy the way they give over so many intimate parts of themselves to so many others, and this realization comes at the cost of Remus's fragile, newly hopeful world view.

Because he comes home to their shared apartment one day to find Pierre in their bed with another. And in some ways, Remus thinks it would have been better to find them in the middle of a debauched scene, sex movements and moans filling the air. 

But he doesn't, he finds them naked, this mystery man laying in Pierre's arms with his head on his chest, while Pierre strokes his hand through the stranger's hair. 

"Only you, my marked one, I think you need it more than the others." Plays on repeat in his head while he packs his things. Maybe Remus didn't need that anymore, maybe he'd healed enough that Pierre, open and loving hearted as he was, felt safe to move on and give to another, now. Or maybe, the whole time, he'd been lying. Either way, Remus finds many things in Paris, but luck in love is not one of them, and he’s alive to move on to England. 

*

In a new place, surrounded by a new culture of people, he decides to also extend his skills. He thinks about the things in life he fears, takes the biggest one he can think of and decides to combat that fear by building a career around it. 

He is terrified of animals, and so Remus Lupin decides to become a fucking Veterinarian. It is, all things considered, even up against his flee to Paris and becoming a sex worker, the most bold and out of pocket thing he could have chosen for himself. But he does, he enrolls in a Veterinary college and uses his height and his bulk as an advantage to bag a job as a security guard to pay for his classes, because he used the bulk of his savings to pay for his apartment. 

When his boss finds out what he’s planning to do for a career, he slaps him on the back with an eager “Oh boy, do I have a job for you!” And, because the universe is a wily cunt who has it out for him, he gets placed as the night security at a fucking dog shelter .

Truly, Remus Lupin starts off fucking hating England. He spends his days in packed classes that make him itchy, and he spends his nights in a place that smells like shit and he finds it hard to get out of bed each time he has to. 

It certainly doesn’t help that the man who works nights at the shelter, this tall man with long limbs and a graceful gait is so damn skittish all of the time . Remus has watched him bump his head, not once or twice but several times when he’s walked into the room he’s occupying on his rounds. He stutters apologies and then books it like he thinks Remus is a threat or something, and it honestly makes no sense because Remus is literally being paid to protect him.

Okay, maybe not him in particular. The building, the animals, the supplies. But also, he reckons, the workers lives and so by default, this man. Sirius , his name tag says when Remus gets a good look at it through the shine of his flashlight one night. 

He tastes it around his tongue, says it out loud under his breath sometimes and finds himself wishing his uniform included a name too, if only so he could hear this man say it. He doesn’t know why he wants him to. 

Sirius is very good with the dogs. Remus watches from afar when he lets them out, and he can’t hear what's being said but he knows the man is talking to them. The animals seem like they.. respect him. Or at least, they’re warm towards him, even the new additions, in a way that they are not towards Remus. They bark loudly when he enters their rooms. 

When he sees Sirius throw his hair up into a ponytail, pencil sideways in his pursed lips as he leans over a sketchpad on the front desk, Remus almost swoons. He’s just so.. pretty, like that. Carefree, away from prying eyes he has this calm to him that Remus has only ever found in the pages of the books he reads. But around the occasional janitor, or around the dogs, he lights up . 

Prettier and brighter than any lights he ever saw in Paris, Remus thinks this man glows. He wishes he could lay about and bask in it, maybe on the terrace of some inexpensive little hostel. Remus starts to watch Sirius more than he watches out for threats, it's true, he’s terrible at this job because he’s distracted by this beautiful man in the way that one is distracted by the stars, and so he thinks perhaps his name is fitting. 

Remus feels like he’s stargazing. 

He feels like a shooting star has struck across the sky as fast as lightning does and landed in the palm of his hands when on some unremarkable Saturday night, his world is lit up by this shiny person who acknowledges him. 

Granted, it’s a forced interaction, because there’s this really sweet looking guy crying with blood all over his hands, and Sirius is screaming - In French, oh dear lord, he’s FRENCH - and Remus can hear the sounds of a dying animal coming from this man’s car, but when Sirius turns to Remus and whimpers, “Do you know if there’s an emergency clinic somewhere around here?” In the most lost, helpless tone he can possibly imagine, Remus thinks he is the luckiest victim of a meteorite that could have ever existed. 

Remus looks over the wild animal, makes a list of all of the ways this animal is dying and no amount of emergency medicine will save it and shakes his head. 

But he senses the panic, sees the way Sirius’s eyes flick over the blood crusted man and squeeze shut as if he’s trying not to vomit, and he finally finds his voice well enough to say, “There’s one about ten kilometers from here, just drive south until you start to see businesses, you’ll find it well enough. Big red cross on the top.” 

“And they’ll.. they’ll fix her? I can’t have killed Bambi, I can’t. They’ll fix her, right?!” The man cries. 

“James..” Sirius starts, tone soft and shallow, and Remus thinks impulsivity has never been his strong suit, but in this moment, he can tell that the harsh truth Sirius is about to deliver will only make this worse, and so he lifts his hand and lays it softly against Sirius’s lower back. 

Sirius stills, doesn’t stiffen but he pauses long enough for Remus to intervene by saying, “They’ll handle it. Just bring her in and leave, they’ll take care of the rest.” Remus doesn't let himself think too long about how soft Sirius went when a calm hand landed on his back.

“Right, right, okay, I’ll do that.” James nods frantically, and then he’s getting back into his car and driving away, leaving Sirius and Remus standing there in the dark. And Remus, because he’s dense as wood apparently, still hasn’t lifted his hand from Sirius’s back. 

“Do you smoke?” Sirius asks, spurred into motion by the disappearance of the headlights.

“No..”

“Well, I do.” Sirius fishes out a pack of fags and a lighter, taking long strides to the side of the building surrounded by trees. 

Remus follows him out of curiosity, because this is the most they’ve ever interacted and Remus wants to hear more sultry French fall from his lips. He’s a sucker for the dialect, and it’s been a while, so sue him.

“Those will kill you.” He points out as he leans his shoulder against the wall to face Sirius. 

Sirius lights the thing and lets it hang between his lips as he shoves the lighter away, and then pulls in a drag of the smoke. 

Remus doesn’t think he’ll get a reply, but Sirius surprises him with a side eyed glance and a sweet little smirk as he says, “Not if I beat them to it.” He lifts his eyebrows, and Remus can tell he’s teasing.

The way his mouth moves has enraptured Remus’s attention. He can’t move his gaze away as Sirius continues, “Anyway, I just had a face full of dying animal and a crazy man covered in blood and tears, so cut me some slack. I deserve a breather after that.”

Remus notes, as Sirius pulls the cigarette away from his mouth, that he’s trembling. 

“He was cute..” Remus hedges, because it’s true, underneath the blood and the panic, James was an attractive man. But Remus wasn’t so much interested in knowing if Sirius was attracted to James, as much as he was curious if he was attracted to men. 

“He was.” Sirius sighs longingly as he stares off into the darkness around them. He takes another drag, and Remus knows Sirius catches Remus looking when he licks his bottom lip. 

And Remus, he is admittedly very bad at social cues, and this is probably the most socially unacceptable thing to say because he’s not a French prostitute anymore and he has no semblance of an idea what the English gay culture is like, but he blurts, “I can blow you if you want. Take your mind off of it.” 

Sirius looks.. shocked. Caught off guard, maybe, but not appalled or disgusted by the idea. His eyes wander from Remus’s face, down his body which he knows is on display because of his tight uniform, and he doesn’t look disappointed by what he sees. Ultimately though, Sirius shrugs. “No thanks.” 

Remus swallows his embarrasment, is about to push off the wall and go back to his patrols and probably never talk to this gorgeous man again when Sirius drops, fucking fluidly to his knees. “I’d rather blow you, if that's okay?” He asks, looking up through his long lashes, and Remus feels like he really has fucking died. 

He died in Paris, clearly, that’s the only excuse for how he’s ended up in this situation, training to be a vet, working at an animal shelter, getting probably the sluttiest and most enthusiastic blowjob of his fucking life from this guy he’s been pining over for months. 

It’s messy and wet and fast and Sirius sucks like he was someone people paid for because, wow. He pulls his mouth off with a pop, bites his lip before he asks Remus to pull his hair, and Remus shakes his head because he’s not about to do such a thing to a man so clearly on edge, but he does put his hands on either side of his head and hold him still while he fucks into him, and Sirius seems pleased with it regardless. 

His eyes roll back in his head and when Remus comes, he swallows. 

When Remus pulls out, puts himself away and pulls Sirius up, he is loose limbed and smiley and he says fucking thank you and Remus can’t help it, he pushes him up against the wall and kisses him, because he should be the one expressing appreciation right now. 

Sirius rips his mouth away before Remus gets a taste of anything past tobacco. He grumbles a "don’t", and Remus mutters, “I don’t mind the taste.” Against his jaw, wants to taste himself on this man, searching for his lips again but Sirius whimpers. 

“I don’t.. kiss, anyone.” He offers up, and Remus pauses. He leans his head against his forehead. 

“Okay.. okay, sure. Go out with me?” God, he’s so presumptuous. One awesome blowjob fueled by adrenaline and Remus is ready to marry him because he is such a star, and Remus has a pension for reaching for things he’s not allowed to keep. 

“I don’t date, either.” And Sirius sounds so sad when he says it, like he really wants to say yes. Or maybe Remus just really wants him to have. 

So he pushes, because he doesn’t quite hear a no. And he never learns his lesson. “Okay, so show up to the address I give you with the intention of having your back blown out, and graciously accept when I insist on feeding you dinner first.” 

Sirius groans. It’s a soft sound, it’s a How can I say no to that? If Remus ever heard one. He hasn’t, but.. 

“Do you cook?” 

“I do.” 

“Well?” 

“ So well .” Remus confirms with a nudge of his nose against Sirius’s. 

“Well.. I suppose, then, that a proper dinner and a fuck is a better way to spend an evening than the instant ramen and bad television that has currently been filling mine, so.” 

“I am so much better than instant ramen,” Remus chuckles. “Can I return the favor now?” He asks as he grinds against Sirius’s thigh. 

“No. No, I, uh.. I should get back to work.”

Remus respects the no that’s given. He backs away, pauses a moment to pull out a bag of white mints and tosses it to Sirius. 

"Pour le goût de bite sur ma langue ?" (“For the taste of cock on my tongue?”) Sirius grouses and his tone is so petulant, it brings a genuine smile to Remus’s face. 

" Non, pour la fumée." (“No, for the smoke.”) Remus shakes his head, and he doesn’t stick around to see the look of shock and awe on Sirius’s face.

*

England isn’t nearly as shit now that Remus’s England includes regularly, heatedly, eagerly shagging Sirius Black. They have fun together, Remus has fun, and it’s good fucking sex. Sirius is an enthusiastic and openly responsive partner, and although Remus shies away at first from the kinkier of his desires, Sirius doesn’t let him for long. 

“You’ve got this look about you sometimes, like you want to do very naughty things to me.” Remus thinks he’s teasing. He’s got Sirius backed into a wall in the hallway of the place they work, currently and deftly opening the man’s shirt. 

“I want to do all manner of naughty things to you, Sirius.” Remus admits as he trails his lips along Sirius’s skin. They established pretty quickly that while Sirius wouldn’t allow him to kiss him on the lips, the other areas of his skin were okay, encouraged, even. 

“Like what?” Sirius breathes, arching his hips, thrusting his erection into Remus’s waiting hand. 

Remus gave him a basic answer. Something simple and plain that he doesn’t even remember because the words that fell out of Sirius’s mouth in response shocked him stupid. 

“Come on, that can’t be the best you’ve got, Sir .” It’s wanton and bratty and Remus can practically hear the capitalization in the name Sirius calls him and it makes him groan. 

“What do you think I want to do with you, hmm?” Remus purrs, if only because he wants to hear him say it. Needs to know how much Sirius knows. They need to talk about this, he can’t just nudge Remus into it on a whim, fuck. 

“I think..” Sirius says quietly, because Remus has stopped touching him and maybe he can hear some hesitance in his voice. “That you are so fucking sexy when you take control. And I think you like it when I let you. So, take it. Because I don’t want it.” 

Remus shakes his head. “You’re talking about power dynamics? Darling.. this isn’t a hallway sex kind of conversation.” Remus grabs his chin, makes him look at him. He feels a curl of dread at the way he so casually dropped a pet name, but Sirius only seems to melt further. They really need to fucking talk .

They do, too. Sirius lets Remus bring him home after their shifts and they talk a lot. They have an in depth discussion and Sirius doesn’t actually know as much about what he’s talking about as he acted like he did, but that’s okay because Remus explains it to him, and they can work it out together, if Sirius is willing. 

Sirius is willing. But with the stipulation that they’re not in a romantic relationship, and while that fucking hurts, it’s an honesty that Remus can appreciate. Sirius isn’t leading him on, and he very well could with the way Remus is all fucking gone for him already. After a long, awkward conversation which sees Sirius hide behind a pillow for most of it, which is, okay, cute as hell, Sirius sits up tall, back straight and says in no uncertain terms that he cannot be his boyfriend, but he can be his submissive. 

And Remus, being remarkably used to those relationships anyway, agrees. Because he wants Sirius, any way he can get to keep him, and he won't make the same mistakes he did with Pierre, because he’ll keep the falling to himself and he has no reason to delude himself into thinking that Sirius could fall in love with him too. 

Except that six months goes by, and Remus is ridiculously in love with Sirius, and they spend almost all of their free time together and Sirius wont kiss him or cuddle him after, even when Remus can tell that no amount of baths or reassuring words are going to do what even a fucking hug would do after they play, and it is killing him . 

He can’t help it, the way it slips out. It’s an irresponsible build of tension and Remus should’ve brought it up before they did this again but he didn’t, because Sirius had been so clear with his words. He didn’t want a partner, a romantic relationship, even if he spent all of his time acting like he did want those things. 

Sirius is balling his fucking eyes out after Remus turned his ass all manner of shades of purple, which is something they’ve done many times before but for some reason this time, the belt in his hand has set Sirius off in a way it hasn’t so dramatically before. He’s on his knees on the floor because he screamed when Remus tried to hold him, and Remus just snapped. 

He yells it when he says, “Why can’t you just let me fucking comfort you?!” 

Sirius doesn’t answer, he’s too busy hyperventilating on the floor. Remus is losing his mind, pulling at his hair because he doesn’t know how else to fix this except with a reassuring touch that Sirius won't let him give. 

“You just.. You just need to be held! You need to let me hold you! I can’t, I need, you need.. your body needs you to let me fucking help calm you down, its fucking chemistry okay there’s chemicals and-..” Remus is ranting when Sirius shoots to his feet, petrified eyes but rage filled face so at odds with his normally goofy.. with the normally goofy Sirius he knows. The one he loves.

“Don’t tell me what I need! You have no idea what I need, no idea what I’ve.. what I’ve done..” Sirius backs away, like the scared animals he’s literally going to school to deal with. 

So Remus does the only thing he can think of, which is to drop the belt and turn up his palms and back away too, to give him space. To become non threatening. To ignore the spike of fear it creates in Remus's gut, the flashes of teeth that might dig into him. It’s a mistake. 

Sirius watches him retreat and something incredibly fucking sad gleans in his eyes, and then he’s pulling on a dressing robe thats far too large for him and rushing out of Remus’s apartment in a flurry that makes Remus drop to his knees in pain. 

It doesn’t take long, maybe an hour before Remus has calmed down and the dawning realization hits that while he’s furious at him, Sirius is his submissive, he’s fallen fucking hard, biggest drop Remus has ever seen in somebody and it’s his responsibility to care for him, however he needs. It can’t matter how Remus feels about Sirius’s limits to their relationship right now, because Sirius isn’t in his right mind and so he’s in danger. 

Remus has been to Sirius’s flat on only a handful of occasions before. Sirius usually suggested they just go to his, and Remus was most comfortable with that, even if it felt a little like Sirius was keeping him separate from his life. And perhaps he should, as they weren’t dating. But this didn’t stop Remus from letting himself into the apartment with the spare key, and he’s glad, because he finds Sirius passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of pills.

It’s nasty work, getting him to throw them up. A colorful array of jellied mass spills into the toilet and Sirius groans dazedly throughout it all. Remus gets him to bed, and he lives, but it's a close one. Too close. It’s frightening. So Remus, against his better judgment, despite the parameters of their relationship, he stays. 

He stays to give Sirius the “I can’t do this with you anymore, I didn’t mean for it to happen but my feelings for you have grown and this isn’t enough and so we need to stop now because you’ve made it quite clear that you don’t want that from me” speech. 

What he gives instead is the “Why can’t you love me!?” speech, because Sirius has an irritating habit of dragging the most inconcise things from him. Words he means instead of words colored pretty and cooled off to make it easy to swallow. 

It’s annoying, because it should be much more effective to have a conversation thats easy to swallow. It’s annoying, because that is how he’s spent his entire life, twisting himself up to appeal to others. It’s annoying, because by now, with Sirius, he should’ve known better, and the rancid tasting, venomous honesty that he spills instead, works. 

Sirius doesn’t think he deserves to be loved. By anyone, but especially by Remus. 

Sirius thinks he raped his younger brother for years even though to Remus, who has been taken advantage of, he only hears love spill from Sirius’s lips through the story he tells him. 

Sirius would rather die than do that to anyone else, and that’s what he thinks he’s doing to Remus. 

“Is that what you’re doing to me, Sirius?” Remus asks, because he has to. Has to know, for sure, before he presses on. 

“What?” 

“Are you.. taking advantage of me? Are you misleading me, have you given me any reason to believe you may feel the same for me only to sweep the rug out from under my feet when it hurts most? Are you intentionally sleeping with me, to hurt me?” 

“No. No, no that’s not.. that’s not..” Sirius stammers. He’s shaking his head wildly. 

Remus is unashamed when he kneels before Sirius and takes his hands into his own. “Good. That's good. For the record, I don’t think that’s what you did to your brother, either. I think he had to grow up as fast as you did, Sirius, and if you ever get the chance to ask him how he felt about it all, I think you’ll find his version of the story very different from yours. I think he’d tell one of his older brother who loved him.”

“I do.. love him. I don’t think I could ever stop.” 

Remus nodded, quiet. He didn’t have anything he could say to that, really. And maybe he should’ve. Maybe he should’ve been out the door as soon as he heard the tale of incest, or if not then, surely after that. After Sirius all but admits that those feelings, those urges haven’t gone away. But Remus, who has had such a lack of love in his life, finds himself not disgusted or perturbed or jealous but.. envious. And so much in love, that he would give Sirius every ounce of it that he desired. 

So much in love, that when Sirius brings their foreheads together and whispers, “I’m falling in love with you, too.” Remus suddenly doesn’t care about right and wrong, or moral or not, or how taboo it might be. Because for once, he believes that someone saying those words to him might really mean it. 

Sirius lets Remus kiss him, then. It’s soft, and sweet, and short, and it’s the best kiss that Remus has ever fucking had. 

*

Remus remembers that moment, Sirius’s emotional devotions and their first kiss, when James comes to them a mess after being utterly humiliated by the girl he was pursuing. 

James had come back to the shelter the next day after that fateful night with the deer in his car, and Remus could see it was an instant connection between him and Sirius. They were fast friends, bonding easily in a way that Remus hadn’t seen in friendship before. In any relationship before. 

With Severus their friendship had always been hugely on his terms, and Remus hadn’t really ever consented to it anyways, he was just along for the ride and emotionally invested enough by the time that Severus started to up the ante that he felt he almost owed him for that friendship that he hadn’t asked for. 

Even with Pierre, their encounters started off transactional, and they were never really platonic. It was always the sex, and the intimacy between partners that can only come after sex, that they’d bonded over.

But James and Sirius were strangely connected. Platonic even in the ways they were intimate, and it had really irked Remus in the beginning that Sirius would allow James in that way, allow him that close where Remus, who was doing arguably more to earn his attention, was not allowed. 

And Remus was at a loss for how to make friends with the man who was, admittedly the antithesis of Remus himself. All wild, give-me-a-gold-star for laughs, I’ll-dance-on-tables-when-I’m-Drunk energy. He sat quietly on the sidelines of their friendship for a long time, watching the men get closer because he didn’t know how to, and was slightly idled by the jealousy of Sirius’s easy friendship, even though he wanted to. Even though he liked James, too.

Even though, he thought James would be a fantastic fucking lay. And he was, very very attractive. But Sirius got most of his attention, and Remus didn’t know quite how to speak up for it anyway, so he was happy to leave Sirius and James to their coziness in favor of his own company. He got plenty of attention from Sirius by himself anyway, and his heart raced every time his boyfriend tasted like mints, because he knew that was for him . No one else. 

He thought of himself as the outsider to that friendship, so he was most shocked when a tear soaked and humiliated James sought him out. Well, him and Sirius, but Sirius wasn’t actually at Remus’s flat yet and so it was just Remus’s arms that James flung himself into. 

It was.. nice, if not a bit confusing, and Remus hugged him somewhat stiffly until James grumbled, “Can you please relax? It’s not nice to hug a tree.” 

“I’m sorry,” Remus took a deep breath and let his body relax, slipping his fingers unthinkingly into James’s hair, “It’s just.. Sirius isn’t here, yet, and I don’t really know.. how to help you.” 

“It’s okay. I just wanted a hug from you, anyway.” James sighs quietly, face buried in Remus’s chest, “This is nice.” 

“You wanted a.. why?” Remus can’t stop himself from asking. He and James weren’t particularly.. close, obviously, though he wished they could be. He didn’t think James would want that from him. 

“I love how I feel around you. More.. calm. More settled. I feel like my whole world just exploded in my face and my heart is killing me and I know, I know that Sirius would cry with me and probably make me laugh by threatening her life but.. I didn’t want that. I wanted someone to just.. hold me. And I hoped you would.” 

Remus swallowed hard. He was at a loss for what to say to that, so he didn’t. He moved them to the sofa and he pulled James down next to him, because he didn’t really seem the type to perch in Remus’s lap. He wrapped him up sideways in his arms and let James rest his head against his shoulder, and they sat quietly together until Sirius turned up. 

It felt, for Remus, like something shifted. Like maybe he had shifted, like the angle of his perception had changed because Remus didn’t think James thought much of him at all, but maybe he did. Maybe Remus just wasn’t seeing it, because he was too busy listening for the words.

Sirius, of course, interrupted the moment with a gasp and a hand to the mouth that startled both men. Remus tried to pull away, but James held on. “Pads, I’m heartbroken. Truly, I might die from this.” 

Sirius didn’t yell, or cry, or throw a fit or do any of the dramatic things that Remus had come to expect from his boyfriend, at the sight of Remus and James cuddling . He looked at them almost.. fondly, and then he sat down across from them and demanded to know everything.

James lamented loudly, refused Remus allowance to move, and then Sirius, being Sirius, proposed clubbing as a solution. The lights and the music and the people sounded horrible to Remus, but what didn’t was the way James looked at him and said, “You’ll dance too, Moony?” 

It was the first time James had used that nickname for him, and Remus could do nothing but hush him and agree with a gentle kiss to his forehead. The same soft ones that he shared only with Sirius. 

Sirius stared, eyes calculating but there was no judgment there. If Remus didn’t know better, which he’d find out soon enough he didn’t, he’d think Sirius was happy to share that little intimacy between him and Remus, with James. 

They went out. They drank and danced and Remus was more sober than the other two men but that wasn’t saying much at all because Sirius and James were very, very drunk and very, very all over each other. Dancing and grinding and writhing and Remus, from the distance his stance at the bar provided him, could tell that his boyfriend was wildly horny from it. 

James held him around the waist, Sirius’s arms draped over James’s broad shoulders and he pulled their bodies together with no hesitation. To the beat of the music they swung their hips, and when they turned, Sirius’s eyes found his and they were heated.

He beckoned him over with a crooked finger and Remus swung back his drink before obliging. He made his way slowly through the undulating crowd and he watched as Sirius ducked down to whisper into James’s ear, something that made him shiver. 

They spun around again just as Remus reached them, and it wasn’t subtle, the way that James pushed his boyfriend into him. Sirius’s ass pressed against his crotch as he came down to grip his hips, and one of James’s hands came to slip into Remus’s front pocket and pull them close, squishing Sirius between them. 

The two men guided Remus to move and he followed. James caught his eye and held it, was unapologetic in the way he stared, head tipped slightly back, mouth hanging partially open as he panted. Remus thought he looked ravishing, wanted to lick the sweat from his hairline and see if it tasted as spicy as James always fucking smelled. Delicious. 

He thought he might combust when James, eyes still stuck on him, leaned down to project that mental image onto Sirius, tongue dragging up the side of his boyfriends neck and forcing him to tip his neck to the side.

It wasn’t challenge that Remus saw in James’s eyes as he nibbled, eyes still fucking open on Sirius’s jaw. It was passion. It was eager arousal. It was.. fuck, it was hot. Remus leaned in after him, licking a stripe up Sirius’s neck directly where James had before his mouth found Sirius’s ear and tugged. His boyfriend moaned under the ministrations of the two men. 

It was hours of torturous teasing. James and Remus passing Sirius back and forth, unabashedly all over him, both of them. Sirius shot him looks, worried ones often and aroused, low lidded ones even more so. He knew Sirius was looking for any signs of discomfort in Remus, but Remus could find none himself, and found he liked this game of two cats, one mouse. 

He didn’t feel rejected or put out by his boyfriend enjoying the other man’s attentions, because he was keenly aware of how much Sirius loved his, too. When Sirius drunkenly excused himself to the bathroom, James took up the place in Remus’s arms that Sirius vacated.

They were all thoroughly fucked. And yet, Remus had this nagging thought, this overlaying worry about where they were headed, and so he needed to clear the air with some drunken honesty before he begged to take these men home together. 

“You want to fuck him,” He said roughly, teeth dragging along the edge of James’s ear as he leaned down to be heard over the music. It wasn’t a question, he could feel the man’s erection. Had been sporting the same, all night. 

“I do. I want to fuck you, too.” 

Remus gripped the back of his sweaty curls, tugging his face up to be perfectly clear when he said, “I don’t bottom.” 

“Thats fine,” James practically purred, “Fuck me, then. Or we can both fuck him and I’ll just snog the shit out of you instead. Or suck your cock, if you want. Do you want that, Moony? Do you want me?” 

He did. He really did. Wildly, and without restraint, he did. He wanted to take this man home and watch him fuck his boyfriend. Maybe fuck him, too. But more than that, he wanted them to be okay, after, and so he asked, “Is that what you want?”

“Yesss..” James hissed, and it was all the confirmation Remus’s lust and drink hazed brain needed.

He took them both home, they fucked around for the rest of the night, and it was probably the most intense night of his life. Remus loved it. Loved the aftermath, especially, Sirius limp and cozied into his arms while James rubbed his back. 

This behavior continued, in a very offhand way. Remus, Sirius and James sometimes did things together. Other times, Sirius and James did things, and Sirius came home and relayed the details honestly to Remus, who was happy to listen. Happy to be told the truth. 

He did make it clear, in no uncertain terms, that James was the exception, not the rule. Sirius was very dramatically offended that Remus would suggest this would happen with anyone else, to which Remus had to apologize profusely (although, he hadn’t needed to, but it made Sirius happy to hear it, so Remus played along) and insist that he had only wanted to be very, very clear. 

It maybe wasn’t clear, though, that there was a stipulation at the very bottom of his “Only James speech”. One written in invisible ink, a needs-be situation in which there was one other person on this earth whom Remus would consider a pass for Sirius to have. One that he didn’t think needed to be expressly said, because he hoped his boyfriend knew. And if he didn’t, if that one in a million situation came to fruition and Sirius felt any sort of terrible way about it after, Remus would be more than happy to assure him that he’d had his permission, even if he hadn’t expressly said it. 

Because Remus hadn't, and he didn't. But sometimes you could give someone the truth without saying it. 

*

Remus and James didn’t fuck. They didn’t do much of anything, really, besides share Sirius. But a couple of years in, Sirius had to go back to night shifts for a while, after an employee quit on the spot and there was no one else to do it. 

It was then that Remus learned James had a hard time sleeping alone. He and Sirius had moved in together (At Remus’s insistence that it be without him) shortly after the whole Lily situation had blown over, because Sirius had that problem, and Remus wasn’t keen on having him move in with him just yet. 

He needed his space. His privacy. He liked things just so, and he always liked being a safe space for Sirius to run to , when he needed to run from things. So after a long gripe, they’d done just that. Sirius was such a good listener, when he wanted to be. But Remus had no idea that James had similar troubles, for a very different reason. 

While Sirius’s nightmares stemmed from neglect and abuse, James found himself coddled through childhood in a way only a spoiled silly only child could be, so he had been struggling with adult life alone. And despite the casual sex they all had, Sirius was James’s best friend. They did things that, while when Sirius did them with Remus were intimate, when he did them with James were practically platonically reassuring in a way James had been lacking for quite a while. 

Things, like cuddling through bad nights. Which Remus was very much aware happened, but hadn’t realized might suddenly include him when Sirius wasn’t home for it. He was most shocked to find a ruffled James, at his door in his sleepwear, begging to just.. lay in bed with him.

Remus, fond of him as he was in a way that was singular to James, let him. Pushed back his covers and made space for him even, but James snuggled close into Remus’s side and sighed before falling asleep. Remus stroked a hand through his curly hair and let himself enjoy it while it lasted. Because surely it wouldn’t. 

Except.. it did. Sirius only worked nights for two weeks, and James spent every one of them in Remus’s bed, and then Sirius was home for night time again and Remus still found James in his bed two or three nights out of the week. He didn’t mind it, actually, the way he found his bed either occupied by Sirius, or James, or both, but never empty anymore. 

Sometimes, now, things escalated with James. Remus kissed him unthinkingly one night, just a soft peck goodnight but James moaned like he’d just fed him chocolate cake. Kissed him back, harder, rutted against him until they were both sweaty and sticky. 

“What’re we doing?” Remus asked him one of the following nights, before things could get to the sweaty stage of their makeouts. 

“Kissing.” James shrugged, leaning in again, but Remus stopped him with a stern palm on his chest. 

“Why are we kissing, James?”

“Because.. I want to kiss you? And you want to kiss me, I think? You kiss Sirius.. Do you not want to kiss me?” James was.. pouting. 

“I do.. want to kiss you. But I’d like to have a clue what it means..” Remus said, unsure. 

“You’re asking if we’re together..” James put two and two together so fluidly sometimes, like he watched the puzzle pieces that other people handed him and matched them seamlessly. 

“Yes, I suppose I am.” 

James pondered this question silently for long enough that Remus wondered if he’d fallen asleep, but into the dark of the room he said, “I think I’d like to be. With Sirius, and with you, together. But.. I think I need to find my own person, too.” 

“Why does it sound like you're saying you can't have both of those things at once?” 

“I could..” James turned to look at him then, tracing a finger down Remus’s cheek. 

“Sirius loves you, you know. I see it when he looks at you.” 

“He loves me,” James nodded, then added, softly but not sadly, “He loves you more. He’s in love with you, and that.. that's beautiful, because I know that you’re in love with him too. You’re his person, and he’s yours. I love him, but different. I love you in a different way, too, Remus. Like some kind of weird.. familial thing. More than that, and I don’t really have the words for it. But I think I’d never be truly happy if I didn’t find my own person, too.” 

“You could be with us while you look for that. There’s no harm in it, darling.” Remus breathed, chest tight from the insinuation that he could be loved by not one perfect, beautiful man, but by two. That he could be loved at all, really, wasn’t a concept he was super convinced of, but they were here, and neither Sirius or James had hurt him yet. 

“I could. But I owe it to any possible future partner to be fully available to them, don’t I? I can’t exactly leave two boyfriends at the drop of a hat if they want me to, even if I’ve fallen in love with them. And then, we’re all hurt by my ridiculously selfish need for more love.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish..” Remus admitted, “To want as much love as you can possibly have in your life.” I want that for you , Remus didn’t say out loud, even if it’s not me. 

I want that for Sirius.. even if it’s eventually not me, either.

*

Remus is there the day James finds that love he’s been looking for. He’s settled on their couch, reading out loud, Sirius strewn out across his lap pretending to listen but really he’s sketching at the bottom corners, which Remus would kill any other man on this planet for. 

James waltzes in, throws himself into the armchair and positively swoons with the after effects of meeting this love of his life. Remus expects some romantic meet-cute that will fulfill all of James’s fantasies, and yet what he hears is so on brand with James’s pension for the self-destructive that he laughs outright at it.

“He was so mean! I hardly deserved it! Oh, he was seething, his face got all red. He said words I don’t even know, wow, and the accent.. ugh! I love him. Love him , Pads, Moony, I’m going to marry him.” 

“Um.. James, it sounds like he hates you.” 

“He does! He so does. He’s going to hate me so much more when I show up tomorrow. He told me never to come back.” 

“James..” Remus started to warn, but he was cut off by Sirius laughing, too. 

“This is.. did you find a male version of Lily? You’re going to get yourself killed like this.”

“He is not a male version of Lily, oh my god. I have so much more self respect then that. Actually.. he kind’ve looks like you, Pads.” 

Sirius scoffed. “I’m prettier.” It’s such a petulant sound. So self assured in his looks, his boyfriend is, but James shoots him down with nary a glance. 

“No, not, I mean, you’re hot Sirius don’t get me wrong, but this man, he’s.. oh, he’s insanely pretty. Like, girl pretty, I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“But he hates you,” Remus points out. 

“There’s a fine line between hate and love, Moony, and I’m going to cross the fuck out of it.” James plants a kiss on each of them and then he’s off to plot. 

And spend months practically stalking the poor fucker. Months that turn into what Remus thinks is something closer to a year that Sirius and he have had to listen to James go on and on about this truly awful man who James is obsessed with. 

Who toys with him, reels him in a little only to tell him to get fucked. Or try harder. Or not to try at all. As fickle as the weather, he called this man, and he wouldn’t give over his name because James really thought by halfway through the year that both Remus and Sirius were ready to pummel him into the ground for the many times that James returned to them heartbroken.

Or maybe he was worried they’d kiss him, for the many times he’d returned with bolstered confidence from the slightest of compliments or acknowledgements.

Either way, when things got serious between them, Remus was happy enough for him. Wary, that he would be hurt, but suspicious that this person James had chosen to court was just.. skittish. Uneasy with affection. Easily spooked by intimacy. Not unlike the ways in which Sirius was, except they had the advantage of almost forced proximity to work through those issues, and developed a dynamic that supported personal growth. 

Surplus to say, Remus was excited to meet the boyfriend when James eagerly invited him over for a double date. 

An excitement that thoroughly, epically, dramatically fucking died when his boyfriend, happy and eager beside him moments prior, stilled. Went cold as ice, hard in a way Remus hadn’t felt him in ages. Looked as though he’d been shot in the stomach when the man next to James choked out, “S-Sirius?” Before Remus had even gotten a proper look at him. 

When his boyfriend let slip, “Reggie.”, that was the moment Remus knew he would lose the love of his life. Be it fast, like a ripped off plaster or the slow, painful death by bleeding out that Remus had experienced one too many times in his life, this vision in front of him would be his relationship's death.

The grim reaper had come and claimed that it was time for Remus to pay his dues. 

Regulus Black was.. utterly ethereal. He was disheveled, and Remus could guess why because he knew James’s cock-wet lips very well at this point. His clothes hung just a little too big on his wafish frame. His hair, black and curly, the same texture as his brother’s but shorter around the sharpened edges of his face, was the projection of the world's softest, sweetest, most beautiful cherub. One with horns, and a devil's tale. 

Something evil that drew you in, like a pretty, poisonous flower. James was talking, but Remus couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears as he stared openly at the world's most fruitful temptation. Couldn’t feel anything but the world crashing in on him, didn’t even feel jarred by the sudden movement when his boyfriend jerked to catch his brother’s arm and leaned in close.

The kind of movement, with enough force behind it, that Remus knew had he not been literally holding Sirius’s hand, grounding him where he stood, he would’ve shoved the smaller man into the wall and kissed him. That one moment broke his heart, a tiny little fracture. Sirius dropping his hand to race after him towards the hall, that fucking shattered it. 

*

It wasn’t for any abundance of jealousy over the love that Sirius had for his brother that whispered his impending loneliness. He didn’t feel even a smidge of it, if he was honest with himself. He would give Sirius to Regulus in a heartbeat, when it is what Sirius chooses. This was something Remus had wanted Sirius to have since he’d known it existed for Sirius to mourn the loss of, he just hadn’t prepared for the feeling of being on the outside of something huge, something grand, to reappear in him so swiftly. 

But it did, with a vengeance. Because Remus could do nothing to assuage the guilt, the sadness in his boyfriend. He watched with quiet eyes as he packed his things, listened as he explained to James in great detail who Regulus was, what Sirius had done to him , and promised he would leave. Was privy to the private conversation between just him and James when James looked his way as if to say, “I’ll give Regulus to him, too.” 

Remus hadn’t really even processed that Sirius was saying he would move in with him, and once he had, once there were bags of stuff at his apartment that hadn’t been there before, stuff that wasn’t his and was so.. out of place amongst his own things, he started to panic. 

Because he was feeling this humongous grief over something not yet lost and this panic over how much more it would hurt now because Sirius was moving his stuff in and trying to live with him and it was all just.. too much. So much, in fact, that James and Sirius had a yelling match, and then Sirius and Remus had one, wherein both men convinced Sirius to go after his little brother. To talk to him. 

Sirius didn’t come home that night. To Remus, or to James. And James.. James was admittedly a little heartbroken, but he didn’t come to Remus either. And it shouldn’t have hurt him as much as it did. He should’ve expected it, really. 

What he did expect, were the things Sirius divulged when he did turn up around noon the next day. A dirty, salacious, beautiful reunion that his boyfriend had the gull to try and be remorseful over. Remus would have none of it, because he could see the love in Sirius’s eyes.

He outright laughed at Sirius’s very nonsensical sentiment of trying to love his brother.. like a brother. Because that wasn’t really what they were, was it? Sirius had expressed feeling a bond with Regulus from birth that wasn’t platonic, or brotherly, but possessive. It was like.. like they were soulmates.

Sirius said that it was for Regulus, and Remus told him that was the opposite of what Regulus so clearly wanted, just based on the retelling of their night together. 

Sirius then claimed it was for James, to which Remus laughed loudly because James was as polyamorous as they came, and hadn’t batted a fucking eye when Sirius told him about his childhood.

Then, he tried to profess that it was for Remus, and that made Remus angry. Because when had Remus ever wanted anything except happiness and love for Sirius? From himself, from James, silently from anyone Sirius wanted it from. He told him as much and Sirius.. Sirius reared back as if he’d been slapped.

Because in what world was it okay to want to love your brother this way? To make love to your brother this way? 

“No one else hides in our beds, Sirius dear.” Remus smoothed his hand into his hair, pulled him in close. “And besides, haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘To each their own’? But they really mean ‘Don’t judge me for mine’ because their closets are just as full with hidden things. Well, I’ve opened your closet, Sirius Black. James and I both, and we won’t let you hide in it any longer.” 

Remus decided in that moment, despite Sirius’s insistence that he didn’t want his brother, that he had ultimately succeeded in his lifetime goal of being able to read between the stupid lines, because when Sirius said, “I don’t want my brother”, his eyes screamed, “I want him more than anything in the world”. Truth in his body language, and Remus couldn't fault him for wanting such an angel. 

Then those big, blueish eyes were aimed up at him , practically undressing him , and Remus was moving forward and touching Regulus without so much as a thought about it. An easy cup of the boy’s (he wasn’t a boy, he was a man, but oh.. he looked so sweet. Boyish, underdressed as he was, thoroughly fucked out and floating) chin that made him blush pink, and Remus wondered if.. if he could want him, too. Just a little. 

And when Remus had his hands on soft little calves, tiny by comparison to the partners he’d had, and the owner of said calves was flirting in French and then aiming it at Remus, too, thinking that Remus couldn’t understand.. It was almost too sweet . Too tempting . And Remus knew he wouldn’t blame Sirius when he ultimately chose his brother, because Regulus was the succulent apple that doomed all of humanity to a life of sin, and he might just be worth it. 

So Remus pushes, and he lets James pull, and he edges Sirius relentlessly at home, because Sirius knows how much he hates liars, knows why, and yet he spits the bullshit through his teeth like he thinks Remus will just lay down and hear it. He won't. Refuses, infact, punishes him over and over for it, and thinks he’s so sly when he and James trick them into a game of truth or dare.

A game that Regulus, perfect as Remus is starting to think he is, leans into, plays along with, wins at. Remus feels like he wins too, because he comes in that pretty wet mouth and Remus is reminded of that first night that Sirius spoke to him all over again, all of the metaphors for stars that ran through his head and thinks they apply so excellently to his kin too because Remus is seeing them all over again, and he knows what comes next. 

Its bad, its very bad, Remus can see the carnage to his own heart from a mile away and he’s so terrified that he can barely find it in him to be mad at his boyfriend for the things he says to Regulus that briefly pushes him away, because Sirius bought him some time too. Some time, he thinks, to not fall. Some time to erase the heartache that the flash of scars on Regulus’s otherwise brilliantly unblemished body caused him. Some time to wipe away the stain of sin from his skin, from his cock, before his creator comes calling and takes it all away from him, Sirius and James included all in one cruel, fell swoop.

But he underestimates the Black Family’s pension for dramatics, because Regulus shows up at his office looking.. fuck , looking like he’s trying to get fucked and Remus knows instantly that he’s going to cave, he’s going to fuck him. He can only prolong it so long, and he tries. He tries so hard, but Regulus is wearing lace and a skirt which is mad because he’s a boy but it's the hottest fucking thing Remus has ever seen, besides Sirius, and his brain is misfiring all over the place and the best he can do is call his boyfriend about it.

He plans to call Sirius and complain. He plans to show him the mess he’s made and scold him for it. To tell him to come clean it up and get it out of his office, for fucks sake. To spank the shit out of Regulus, regardless of the fact that he despises under negotiated play, and to be done with this behavior because Remus is not a toy to be used like this. Against others, or Regulus himself. 

But Sirius answers, and Remus can tell, through the shock, when he turns on the camera, that Sirius has given up fighting his desires. That he was broken so thoroughly by what they'd all seen on Regulus's back. That he’s touching himself while he looks up his brother’s skirt. His brother, who is sitting in Remus’s lap, and Remus is so far gone that he practically begs for permission to fuck him. 

Sirius fucking gives it. 

Twenty minutes. He has twenty minutes to get this temptress, this horrible vision of insanity out of his system. He tries his damndest, but he still finds himself telling Regulus truths that are too close to home, in order to curb this wildly inaccurate depiction that the man has of himself as some kind of pleasure thief. Things like, that he could be Remus’s boyfriend, things like that Remus is feeling selfish for wanting more. Asks him for more like an absolute idiot, listens to him promise Remus that he’ll try to give it, and knows it will hurt all the fucking more when he can’t. 

Reassures Regulus that he will hold him to that promise, even though he knows he will not. He lets Sirius whisk him away and.. and he goes back to work. Because he’ll have to get used to that, he thinks. Sending his loved ones off to spend time with each other and then eventually, not having said loved ones to send off at all. 

And Remus doesn’t think his reassurances are a lie. He thinks they are fairly similar to the way he’d told James, many years ago, that the vets would handle that deer. It’s like letting the family member of a loved one down easy. Or maybe.. maybe he was letting himself down easily. Softly. Not all at once, a slow process where he allows himself little moments of happy in between all of the hurt.

He has a religious experience that night after dinner. More than one, honestly, even though he directs the activities away from himself. He thinks if he participated, he would never recover. He would make the most embarrassing statement of love for all three men, be promptly rejected or worse, laughed at, and it would ruin it. So he watches this collision of passions with rapt attentions and lets himself enjoy it. Lets himself join in, just a little, at the end. To hear more of the pretty noises that spill from Regulus’s mouth, all high pitched and whiny. 

Lets himself memorize it. Thinks, it’s probably one of the only times it will happen, because the three of them drift off to blissful sleep together, and Remus only watches for a little while longer before he excuses himself.

“Love, baby.” Sirius had cooed to Regulus near the end. Remus thought he couldn’t be more right, and dully wished more of it was for him. 

 He doesn’t leave, that would be going too far, he just lets himself into Sirius’s room and falls asleep wrapped up in the peppermint smell that he’s come to appreciate mingled with Sirius’s scent. He eyes, but ultimately ignores the glass bowls on the desk. Hidden, halfway behind an easel like they were stashed there hastily.

Lets it set in, this little thing about Sirius that he isn’t privy to. Not a lie, outright, because Remus never asked, but an omission. A new secret every time Remus tasted the flavor on his tongue. The last thought he has before he drifts to sleep is that he wishes he was worthy of those secrets. 

Sirius surprises him when he wakes up to his boyfriend climbing under the covers, snuggling close into his arms. 

“You left,” He mumbles grumpily, sleep soaked voice rumbling against Remus’s chest.

“I didn’t, I’m here..” He hugs Sirius closer. 

“There was plenty of room in James’s bed. You should’ve stayed..” 

“I didn’t want to wake you..” 

Sirius reaches a lazy, weak hand up and pulls his face down. Remus is slightly startled to see the amount of alertness in his eyes. Not quite as asleep as he thought. 

“That’s not it. That’s your hurt voice, Moony, love, why’re you hurt?”

Remus shakes his head. “I’m not hurt, darling.” He lies , and the acidity reminds him why he doesn’t like to. 

Sirius swallows hard. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Moony. You tell me why you’re hurting so that I can fix it, I won’t have this. Is it.. Was it..” 

“No. No. I am so happy for you, don’t think that I’m not.”

“Then what is this?” Sirius whispers, and Remus pulls him close. 

“This is nothing. Nothing, darling. Don’t worry your lovely little head about it, okay? Will you.. will you spend the night with me, tomorrow?” He doesn’t let himself admit anything, but he owes it to himself to ask for a little bit of Sirius’s time, because he wants to soak up as much of it as he can before it’s gone. “I understand if you’d rather spend it with them, It’s beautiful, seeing you all together-,” 

“Of course I’ll spend the night with you, Moons. You and me baby, always.” Sirius nuzzles in under his chin, and Remus holds him tighter. Kisses the top of his head, softly, so softly. The silent I love yous that he loves to give. 

Sirius does, as he promised. Its a sweet night, one spent without an inch of clothes between them, and it’s full of both verbal and silent declarations of love, almost pathalogical in their repetition but Remus eats them up, takes them in for all of their worth because they are worth everything to him. 

He loves this man more than anyone should ever love another person. But still, he doesn’t voice his fears for the future to him. He just worships the literal ground he walks on, from the feet up and spending extra time on all his favorite spots and Sirius lets him and then returns the attentions, over and over again they give and give to each other. Spout and spread the love between them.

Remus finds himself thoroughly fucking exhausted by the time he’s left alone the next day, and has just started a book when he’s surprised by a knock on his door. Even further surprised when it’s Regulus, holding a cat to his chest and rushing into his apartment. 

A whirlwind of confusion ensues because Regulus is freaking out but it doesn’t take long for Remus to realize that the man has collapsed and he isn’t fucking breathing. And he tries, he really tries not to touch him, to guide him verbally through how to use his lungs but it isn’t working and his skin is turning purple and truthfully, he thinks that Regulus lashing out and trying to beat the fuck out of him is a much better outcome then him passing out, so he drops to the ground and he folds the smaller man up in his arms and guides him to breathe with his body. 

They spend.. an untrackable amount of time on the floor after that. Remus’s legs are dead and he’s been close to tears and quick to laugh and so thoroughly angry all in that time. But at the end of it, he realizes that Regulus is rather.. small, to hold all of this insurmountable pressure inside of him. He can imagine why the walls seem to always be closing in. 

Why it explodes out of him the way it does when he feels cornered, or too much, all at once. Because that used to happen for Remus, too. And he knows how he fixed it, how he learned to reign it all in, and Regulus’s temperament is different than his sure, but.. but maybe the same would work for him, in reverse.

It had for his brother, in similar ways as well, after all. Stopped the trembling, the panic attacks. So Remus didn’t have a whole lot of the right things to fuel any sort of a budding relationship between them, but he knew that others who trusted him thought he was good at this , and he could give that to Regulus, if the man would let him. 

And when he offered, Regulus accepted. 

And when he asked if he trusted him, Regulus readily admitted that he did.

And when Remus pushed him, Regulus bent so fucking beautifully.

And when he handed this pretty thing, this beautiful little treasure that Remus found himself so badly wanting, off to his real boyfriend, and “Love you” fell from his lips so immediately in response to the soft little kiss, the silent “I love you” that Remus gave him , Remus heard the words for what they said, not what they were. 

He heard, “I love how I feel around you. More.. calm."

He heard, “I love you in a different way.” 

He heard, “I’m in love with him. I love him. I’m going to marry him.”

He heard, “Thank you.”

He watched, even while the little lie left his lovely mouth, taking flight to Remus's desperate ears, the way Regulus's body angled towards James . 

“You’re welcome..” Remus whispered to the closed door, in this moment where he truly had never felt more alone. 

Chapter Text

Remus feels.. antsy. There is an itch under his skin that he cannot scratch, a sensation that makes him claw his rumpled shirt off, tossing it onto the coffee table with barely a glance and dropping himself onto the couch, into the spot Regulus left warm for him. 

The blankets smell faintly of his own vanilla body soap, the one he’d rubbed into Regulus’s skin with soothing fingers an hour ago. The same fingers that shake now as they pool the pile of fabric around his shoulders. He inhales deeply, letting the scent soothe the all encompassing exhaustion that has started to sink back into his bones.

He’d been temporarily distracted from it by the adrenaline that coursed through his body, the panic and the need to fix things that had come from seeing Regulus collapse to the floor and forget how to breathe. He’d shoved it down further when he realized just how badly he was needed, coming up with a scene on the fly, not dissimilar to one he’d participated in with Sirius years ago. 

Except that one, he had planned for. They had planned for it, weeks in advance, both parties well aware of what they were trying to work through with a scene like that and still, Sirius had needed to safe word. And it made Remus feel so fucking guilty then, a dent in the pride of his judgement. 

He usually got it so right , what he thought others needed or could handle from their body language, and yet he’d been so strongly attuned to the way that Sirius’s body had been singing for him that he missed the crescendo of cries coming from his mouth. He’d missed hesitation, the cues for a pause. 

Had found his own ears to fail him in favor of this understanding of his boyfriend’s body that he’d thought he had, and had been deaf to anything but the pleasure he could see until their safeword was falling from Sirius’s lips. 

Had he missed those same signs from Regulus, today? 

Remus had been reckless, he’d bypassed careful planning and conversations in favor of throwing together a frankly dangerous assortment of items to participate in a scene with a submissive who wasn’t even his. Which had surely been one of many mistakes he’d made, if James’s reaction when he turned up was anything to go by. 

He’d been playing with fire, dancing around the flames, crossing lines he couldn’t actually see in the metaphorical sand and James was quick to call him out on how unfair it was. 

And Regulus had let him. 

Remus had thought he wanted it, had listened when Regulus said he trusted him, even as his body shook, because he’d heard all about the ease in which the man spat words like “no”, and “fuck off”, and “don’t touch me”. His careless spit of vitriol often took no mercy, even on those he cared for.

So if no didn’t fall from his lips, true to their conversation beforehand Remus could ignore all of the other loud ways in which he screamed it. 

But Remus knew, should have realized that a yes, doesn’t always mean yes. 

The same way he knew that “love you” did not mean “I’m in love with you”. 

It meant; “I’m in love with James, and with Sirius, and if I don’t let you do this with me, I might lose them”. 

And Regulus had an otherworldly tolerance for pain. Had endured the kind that could kill you for years and survived only to go on to seek out the kind that provided something similar, little deaths.

Fuck.

Remus makes it to the bathroom just in time to be sick into the toilet. 

His guilt churns, acidic and bubbly through his gut, amassing the anger at himself and the loneliness that has crept in like insistent ants to make a hill out of the dust that gathered in the hollows of his bones. 

When he’s done filling the bowl with sick, he sits on the cold bathroom floor and he makes a mental list of all the tasks he should be doing. It’s this thing that he has always done in the face of emotional upheaval, he follows his routines. 

He should shower, priority number one because he’s sweaty in his clothes and smelling of vomit and he can feel the grit between his fingers. He should clean up the toys he’s left strewn about his room, should pull down and wrap up the ropes, fold the blankets, vacuum the floors.

He has this most insatiable urge to meticulously, if not obsessively wipe away the evidence of his mistakes from all of the surfaces he’s dirtied with them today. Aches with the need to find order amongst the mess he’s left, because his head wont straighten out either until he does.

He sits, and he rubs his palms on the raised design of the tiles, and he orders these tasks several ways; order of priority and then fastest ones first and puts them in alphabetical order, and order of most public spaces to private ones. 

He closes his eyes and walks himself through doing each task, doesn’t skip a step, he envisions doing all of it and feeling so much better after it’s done. 

But he can’t make himself do them. He doesn’t get up from the floor, he sinks down further. His back loses it’s rigid posture in favor of a lax, bent stance against the wall, leaning against the vanity cabinets for support. 

He is sinking into his exhaustion, drowning in his guilt, accepting of his empty arms, even as he holds them open, wishing silently for someone to fill them. 

Remus Lupin is unraveling, seam by bloody seam, and there is no one around to fix up the patchwork this time. 

*

Regulus is admittedly unsettled when Sirius tells him he hasn’t gotten ahold of Remus since the morning before Regulus showed up at his apartment in shambles. He’s bouncing his knee, hoping James will have, but James too says he hasn’t. That he called him twice, to thank him for being there for Regulus during their spat, but he got no answer.

He rushes back to Sirius in the lounge, James following warily behind and he startles both of them by being angry about it. About the easy, resigned way in which Sirius tries to reason that Remus is just.. like this. He pulls away and takes the space he needs sometimes, and Sirius and James have always given it to him, at least in little bits before they bulldoze their way back into it. 

James explains that Remus has always had a temperamental battery, this gauge for relationships that drains unexpectedly and can only be refilled by the distance and quiet that his apartment provides.

A space that Regulus had burst into, a walking disaster as he was, defiled with his need for Remus to be calm and sturdy for him, to push and pull him in extreme directions and then.. deserted. He left him there. 

Fuck. 

“Relax, Reggie, he was fine when I left yesterday morning. He gets busy with work sometimes too, it’s not like..” 

Regulus interrupts him, waving impatiently. He’s flushed as he rushes out, “I was there after you.” 

“You.. What?” Sirius asks, confused.

“We,” He gestures to himself and James, “had a fight, when he asked me to move in. He asked me to leave and I.. I went to Remus.” 

“You went to him..” Sirius stands slowly. “What does that mean?”

Regulus fiddles with the bottom of his shirt, “I was having a panic attack, and I needed.. calm. I showed up at his apartment and he helped me through it. And let me talk about why it happened in the first place. And then I said I didn’t feel ready to face James yet because I was still on edge and he..” 

“Regulus..” Sirius breathes, and he can see it when his brother realizes where this is going. Because of course, he does. Sirius has been with Remus for eight years, and while Regulus doesn’t know the extent of their dynamic or when exactly it started, he can imagine he is well attuned to the ways in which his boyfriend may have thought to help Regulus through something like that, because he’s probably done the same for him.

Regulus stares down and lets the ugly truth spill onto the floor. “It was basically a scene.. he tied me up and there were toys and I, um.. submitted, to him. He took care of me after but I..” 

He hears James suck in air behind him. “I came and got you and took you home. Took you.. away.”

“You two..” Sirius’s eyes go wide, his jaw is clenched but it does nothing to stifle the raise of his voice when he finishes, “You left him there?”

“Shit, Pads, I yelled at him.” James’s voice cracks from behind him. 

Sirius’s glare shifts to James, daggers pointed as he snaps, “You fucking yelled at him?” 

“I didn’t know that he did that for Reg. They didn’t.. no one told me! And I was still so mad when I showed up, for what Reggie said to me..” 

Regulus turns slowly. He’s scared to ask, fucking terrified because this feels like it's another one of those ledges, those heights he dangles near so frequently in his relationships and he can feel the hand at his lower back, guiding him forward. 

“What did you say?” He asks quietly. 

“Look, I didn’t mean it about you and him Reggie, I was talking about myself when I said it, I wasn’t..” 

“What. Did. You. Say. To him, James?” Regulus bites out through gritted teeth. 

“Do you know how long it took him to warm up to me?” James snaps, hugging his arms around himself defensively, “If I had gone to him upset at any point in our relationship before I did, he would have shut the door in my face. So when I realized that's where you went, and that he let you, I-.. ”

"S'il vous plaît, Jamie, allez droit au but !" (“Please, Jamie, get to the point!”) Sirius snaps, all but stomping his foot in frustration. 

James takes a step back, eyes going blurry and his voice coming out quiet as a mouse when he squeaks, “I told him he had no right to let you in, that it wasn’t fair that things were different between you..”

Regulus groans. He has to admit to himself that even he would’ve taken that as a blanket statement of jealousy over himself, because what James said wasn’t clear. Far from it. It was the blurriest possible way he could’ve chosen to express his jealousy over Remus’s affections, potentially impossible to see at all if Remus didn’t even know that James felt any resentment towards the length of time it took for them to bond. 

Based on the devastated look on his face, the guilt that is shown in the tears of his eyes, Regulus thinks it's safe to assume that Remus doesn’t know that. Which means to him, it seems like James showed up in a fit of jealousy over Regulus . Probably made Remus feel like a kid whose hand has been caught in the cookie jar, like a thief and a homewrecker all in one.  

And then, they left him there. 

"Let me get this straight.. You," Sirius points to Regulus, "Went to him an emotional wreck, participated in an impromptu scene with him, let him take care of you after and then left him there because you ," Sirius pauses, aiming his glare at James, "Showed up, yelled at him in fucking Morse Code, and then took him home without even asking if my boyfriend was okay ?!"  "That's.. yeah. Yeah, that's what we did." James whispers. 

“Why.. Why did neither of you tell me this?” Sirius asks, drawing Regulus’s attention back to him. He is deathly quiet. “How could you be so fucking irresponsible? Reg, would you have left James alone like that after a scene? Even after sex, in general?” 

Regulus frantically shakes his head, “I wasn’t.. I was so busy thinking about James, and Remus seemed fine so I didn’t think..” 

“You didn’t think about him at all! Fuck. Fuck!” Sirius kicks the coffee table, making Regulus jump. “I have to go. I have to go make sure he’s okay, I have to..” 

“I should come too,” Regulus says, taking a step towards the door, “Both of us. We need to apologize, and to explain-,” 

“ Non. No. You two aren’t going anywhere near him until I make sure he’s okay. Fuck. Fuck you both right now, Merde, you’ve done enough!” Sirius is throwing on his jacket and his boots, buckles loose and his helmet over his head while he yells at them, and Regulus’s chest aches because it hurts and it should, he knows they deserve it. 

Sirius slams the door behind him, and it echoes through the apartment and in Regulus’s ears long after Sirius has left. He doesn’t know if it’s been seconds, or minutes, or hours since he’s left because all Regulus can do is worry about Remus. He can’t track time, he can’t make his legs work to carry him to the couch, he can’t even turn around when he hears James say something behind him. 

When a hand lands on his shoulder, this finally prompts him to move, to whip around in a rage to spit, “Why would you say something like that to him?!” 

He watches as James’s throat bobs, this unobtrusive gesture of him holding himself back, holding himself together. “Why wouldn’t you tell me what he did for you?” 

“I wasn’t aware that I owe you a recount of any of my time not spent with you!” Regulus spits. He’s seeing red, he’s so angry and embarrassed and when James takes a step forward and puts a hand on each of his shoulders, head ducking to be right in Regulus’s face, he feels he doesn’t deserve the softness of his boyfriend’s words.

“You don’t Reggie, except when it’s something I need to know, like that you were fresh off a scene with someone you’ve not done that with alone before, and that lack of information led to me putting each of us in danger.” 

“I-..” Regulus can’t make words. His stupid brain is too lulled by the hushed tones that James uses. 

“You came home with me, and we engaged in play that could have harmed you or myself in the process because I didn’t know you’d already done something physically intimate and emotionally vulnerable. It could’ve hurt your head, baby, or you could’ve hurt me if it got too intense and you lashed out because you didn’t have the emotional energy to use our system properly.”

James is so calm, he forces Regulus to maintain eye contact and it’s not a stern lecture but a leading one, it’s information Regulus already has jumping around in his brain like grasshoppers, all accusation and judgment and despair but James sorts it out, forces it to still, lines it up so that Regulus can digest it properly. 

“And you know just as well, how what he did for you could’ve left Remus feeling an innumerable amount of negative things..” James cups Regulus’s face, stroking above his cheekbone as he whispers, “Guilt over what he did to you being so.. unplanned and intense as it sounds like it was. Jealousy, because you left him for me. Resentment towards me for taking you.. He could be really hurting right now, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes..” Regulus whines, closing his eyes. 

He feels James lean in and bring their foreheads together. They both stand silently for a while, until Regulus’s panic has softened into something sad, something mournful. 

“Why didn’t he stop me?” He whispers, blinking back tears, “Why didn’t he make me stay?”

James’s mouth works without forming words for a moment, and then he pauses, as if working through a complicated answer. When he finally does speak, it serves to scold Regulus, “I think.. he was thinking of you, baby, of what he thought you would want, and you didn’t have the presence of mind to think of him. I think the scene for him likely started when you collapsed, and he probably couldn’t see the end until we left.” 

“I could’ve really hurt you or myself,” Regulus repeats, “I broke your trust, and I’m sorry. But him.. I think I’ve really hurt him.” He chokes up at the end.

“We..” James breathes sadly, “I think we’ve really hurt him..” 

“We all need to talk.” 

“Yes, we do. But not right now. Right now, Sirius is going to make sure our Moony is still hanging where he should in our sky, okay? Right now, you need to come spend the day in my bed. I’ll put on a movie. You can read if you want, or do something else, but whatever you choose, you’re doing it in my arms. Last thing I’m going to do is leave you alone to let your worries swallow you.” 

Regulus is quietly grateful. The sun of mid afternoon shines through the lounge windows, washing them in bright light, and yet he feels the suffocation of the darkness closing in around him anyway. At least in James’s arms, nothing can claw its way out to make a meal out of him. At least in James’s arms, he’ll be safe. 

Glancing to the side, he spots a familiar, worn paperback book. It’s an old edition of French fables, one he’s seen in Remus’s hands. The spine tells the story of its age, and the many times it’s been reread. He leans down and picks it up, hugging it to his chest as he whispers, “I think I’ll read.”

James glances at the book, a fond little smile lifting his lips. “That’s Moony’s favorite.” 

*

Remus manages to get himself off of the bathroom floor and to work. It’s a slow process, takes him all of this extra time and none of that time does anything to remedy the bags under his eyes or the way his hair so obviously screams that he hasn’t showered but.. that can’t be helped He can’t manage it. 

The morning is blurry, he sees all of two animals before he’s asking Cassy at the front desk to hand his appointments over and locking himself in his office. He tosses his reading glasses across his desk and they knock the picture of his loved ones over, but he hardly notices the clattering sound. 

He sits, elbows on the hard wood with his face in his hands and as he sits there in the quiet of the office it hits him, full force. He cries. It’s messy sobs that wet his palms and make his shoulders shake. 

It’s so loud, this sadness ringing in his ears, that he doesn’t hear the door to his office open. He doesn’t hear heavy boots walking across the hard floors. He jumps when a hand comes down to his shoulder. 

“Oh, Moony..” Sirius says softly. 

Remus pushes away from his desk, making the chair roll back as he stands and takes a step away. He doesn’t know why the ache for closeness urges him to put distance between them, but pretty, palatable walls come up to his defense. He rubs his face and asks, exasperated, “What are you doing here?”

He cringes at the accusation in his tone, but it can’t be helped now. 

“Prongs and Reg just told me about yesterday. I left right away to find you. Why didn’t you call me?” Sirius sounds.. angry. Hurt. Remus supposes he has every right to, with what he did to his brother. 

“If you’re going to yell at me can you please either do it quietly or do it.. somewhere else? I don’t want the whole office to hear this.” He says sharply.

Sirius’s brows furrow on his beautiful face. His eyes are soft, and they’re a juxtaposition to the way Remus thinks he should be looking at him. “Why would I yell at you?”

“I overstepped with Regulus,” Remus admits out loud for the first time, “I hurt someone you love and I betrayed James’s trust and you have every right to yell at me for it.”

“Moons.. baby, no. No. I’m not mad at you for yesterday? Okay.. I’m, well, merde, I’m frustrated, but that’s not.. I’m here for you. To help you.” Sirius takes a step towards him, and Remus takes a step back. It makes his back hit the bookcase with a thump, and his boyfriend gives him an odd look. 

Remus softens. “I’m fine, darling.. You should be home with them. Regulus was in a right state, you should be there for him.” 

“You are not fine, stop.. stop lying to me, why are you being like this?" Sirius steps closer, and short of fleeing Remus can’t continue putting space between them so he stays, and stands his ground.

“I’m not lying, I’m just tired. That’s all. You should go.”

“Come with me.” Sirius breathes. “Let me take you home and love you, yeah?” 

He’s close enough that Remus can smell the mints on his breath. It’s a familiar, comforting scent, a breath of fresh air when Remus feels like all he’s taken in the past day is dank and damp. Wet earth building up in his lungs, weighing him down. He wants so badly to accept, and yet-

“I’ve got work.” 

Sirius’s arms slip around his waist. The tips of his riding boots meet the tips of Remus’s brown loafers, and he leans in, nosing at the corner of Remus’s jaw when he whispers so softly, “Yeah, really looked like you were working when I walked in..” 

Remus clenches his jaw. “I’m sorry you saw that, but I’ve got it under control, you don’t need this from me right now..” He wishes there was a bite to his tone, but even he can hear the self deprecation coating the words he says. 

“What, love? What don’t you think I need from you right now?” 

“..Any instability. It’s important for the three of you to be secure in each other right now. Things are so new, you don’t need me to add any extra tension.” He wishes he had the strength to push Sirius away. To prove his point with further distance. But he is frozen against him, thawing due to his warmth.

Sirius’s teeth nip at his jaw as he talks. His fingers tighten at his waist, the only sign of his frustrations because the rest of his body feels too fluid against Remus’s stiff stance. “It isn’t up to you to decide what’s important to me, Remus Lupin. How dare you.” 

“Your focus should be on..” 

“My focus at this moment is on the person who needs it. On you. And I’m sorry that I’m late giving it, but you’ve got it undivided now. So you..” 

Sirius pushes their hips together, and a soft, breathy sound falls from Remus’s lips before he can stifle it. “Are going to take off your fancy doctor’s coat, and you’re going to get on the back of my bike. You’re going to let me take you home..” 

Sirius rubs them together again, soft brush of their centers and Remus can’t help his reaction to it. He shivers. “You’re going to let me wash you up, and hold you..” 

Sirius kisses the corner of his mouth, voice breathy on his lips when he continues, “You’re going to let me love you, thoroughly ..” 

“Because your body needs it, because it’s all chemicals, baby, remember? You don’t get a choice..” Remus starts to tremble when Sirius’s fingers smooth their way under his untucked button down shirt, brushing against his bare skin. 

Sirius’s voice has dropped low and slow and sultry, a purr for him, “And after I make it all better, you’re going to tell me in great fucking detail why the fuck you think that those important relationships I 'should be working on right now' don’t include you .” 

Sirius’s lips press against his, the soft of a barely there kiss. “Got it, Moony?” 

*

Remus is submerged in a bath full of suds, surrounded by the scents of vanilla and pine that intermingal around him as his boyfriend sits behind him, washing every inch of his skin with the sharp smelling soap. Sirius has his legs trapped with his own, ankles crossed and holding him open and still as if he thinks Remus is going to leap from the water and run away. 

Remus supposes he is acting like he might do that. But he leans back into Sirius’s touches and he lets his boyfriend soothe him with gentle touches and the tangle of soapy fingers through his hair. 

Sirius is thorough, and gentle, and he doesn’t say a word throughout his care, except to tell Remus to close his eyes and let him make him feel good. Remus’s heart is aching and his head is pounding and his limbs are unsteady and so.. he listens. 

When Sirius makes to get out of the bath, Remus admittedly panics. His eyes flash open and his hands come up to grip the sides of the tub as he re-emerges from the sleep-like state he’d been lulled to, but Sirius hushes him.

“I’m getting us towels. Watch me, love, I’m taking two steps to the towel rack and that's it.” 

Remus nods jerkily, but he lets go of the tub and he does, in fact, keep his eyes on Sirius as he takes those two steps away and then the two steps back. 

Sirius gets him out of the bath, he wipes him down and wraps him up in his dressing gown and Remus can’t help the blush on his cheeks because it feels odd to be taken care of like this. It’s usually Remus’s job to do this for Sirius. 

And sure, Sirius has done this before, there is no shortage of the intimate and domestic sharing of responsibilities in their relationship, but this time feels different. Maybe, because Remus has never been so chafed raw emotionally before. 

Sirius leads him to his bed, which Remus spares a thought to note has been cleaned up and he certainly hadn’t done, so unless his every intention to do it has, somehow magically, done it for him, he has no other assumption to make then that Sirius must’ve come here first.

Must’ve let himself in, seen the state of the apartment that Remus left it in when he forced himself to leave for work this morning, and knew that Remus wasn’t okay. That he must’ve taken the time to clean it, before he came to get him. 

“Thank you..” Remus says quietly towards the bed. He sees Sirius give him a sad look out of the corner of his eye. 

“I wish I had been here to do this all yesterday..” Sirius returns quietly, sounding honest before he says, “Lay down Moons, on your back.” 

Remus does, he leans his head against the pillows because he expects this is the holding part of what Sirius brought him home to do, so he’s surprised when the end of the bed dips instead.

Sirius’s hands come down on his foot, wet with lotion and massaging tiny circles into the heel. 

“What’re you doing?” Remus asks as he eyes Sirius warily, thrown off by the diversion of course. 

“You’re tense.” Sirius notes idly. “Let me help you relax?” 

Remus wants to say no. He wants to beg for Sirius to leave him to wallow, because this feels good, it feels nice and that makes him hurt. Makes him want to cry again. Maybe for different reasons this time. He nods, instead. He unties his robe, doesn't watch Sirius for his reaction to this invitation.

He leans back and closes his eyes, listening as Sirius hums a soft and slow rendition of Ne Me Quitte Pas (Do Not Leave Me- Jacques Brel) while his hands work the frazzled skin and rub away the itch.

By the time he reaches the end of the song, Sirius’s fingers have drifted along every inch of open skin except his exposed center, and there are tears running down Remus’s face again. He can feel them, wet lines that fall along his chin and drip.

Sirius’s hand inches close, now, towards his most intimate parts, and when they land, soft as feathers against the skin of his erection, Remus gasps. “Let me?” Sirius asks quietly, face nuzzling into the skin of his thigh. 

He places gentle kisses there, hardly touching him yet every inch of skin that does is cold water on heated veins. It’s a chill cloth cooling down a fever that Remus didn’t know he’d had until it was too late, until it was killing him.

“Let me love you here, too, baby? Let me show you that I do?” His voice is a breathy plea but oh so ragged , eyes heated and rich with desire when Remus peels his open and finds them watching his face intently. 

Remus can’t bring himself to say no. 

He can’t bring himself to say yes, either. 

Words so fickle that they could make or break this fragile moment between them, and Remus can’t bear for them to, so he whispers, “Green.” Instead. 

 Sirius’s hand works the skin until he’s leaking liquid love. He rubs his thumb along the sensitive path of veins, follows them up to the dewy beads and spreads them around. His touch is attentive, it provides merciful relief, it draws pleasure in and floods Remus’s empty body with it. 

When his mouth comes down, soft kisses along his shaft, the noise it pulls from Remus’s throat is needy. Sirius’s lips are silent, but the press of them asks again, “Let me show you that I do?” and Remus is lax against the bed sheets as he murmurs, “Green, darling, so green..” 

Warm, wet heat envelopes him. Molten waves of suction pull him under. Sugary sweet tongue laves at him, drags him deeper, circles him around like hands from the depths of the dark sea and the ocean Remus drowns in is singing to him as he dies. 

He walks willingly into little Lady Death’s arms at the beckoning of his lover’s serenade, and he regrets not the pain of living nor the pleasure of dying. When he surfaces again from beneath the crisp cover of her white cape, it is to see that he has risen above the salty, saddened abyss into the light of the brightest star in the sky. 

Sirius lays next to him and pulls him close, wraps him up in sure arms and whispers beautiful French into his ears, promises and declarations of love alike. 

He promises to be here when Remus wakes.

He promises to hold him indefinitely, physically and metaphorically, for forever. 

He promises him his love, as much of it as Remus could ever want or need, it’s his to have. 

“I have no shortage of it,” Remus’s lust-addled brain hears his lover sigh, “I do not take from your pile to give to others, nor will I ever have to. It only grows for each of you, there is no limit. No sky, or celestial body, no god himself, even creator of the universe as he may be, that would bar me from reaching for My Moon.” 

Remus falls asleep, wrapped up in love, and dreams of his galaxy holding him up in milky, creamy endlessness. 

Chapter Text

Regulus Black is not a flight risk. He resents the insinuation, even as James catches him trying to..well, flee. Sort of. 

“I have to go to work, James.” Regulus groans. He’s on his tip toes, trying to steal back his jacket from his boyfriend's unfairly tall reach because it’s pouring rain outside and he’s already late because he’s dating a spoiled rotten brat who thinks they can just abandon their daily routines because they’re going through some emotional turmoil. 

Regulus has bills. Shared, now, since he’s agreed to move in, but still. 

“You don’t though. I’ve got us, you can stay home with me.” James grins.

“No, I cannot live a solitary life bricked up in your apartment, I’m not a housewife, and I’ve got a job which is currently waiting for me to show up at it . Give me my jacket!” 

Regulus hops, James catches his arm with his free hand and spins them around. Regulus finds himself pushed up against the frustratingly closed door, one arm trapped as James leans in, a crooked smile for a positively crooked man. “But you’d be such a pretty housewife for me.” 

“Be that as it may,” Regulus rolls his eyes, tipping his head to the side to avoid James’s searching lips. They find his chin again, and it’s silly the kisses he leaves, because it makes Regulus smile even though he’s frustrated right now. “I’m not abandoning my flowers to laze around here just because you have an insatiable need to keep me naked.” 

“You could have flowers here. Any kind you want.” James croons, nuzzling him sweetly. Regulus isn’t melting, he isn’t. 

“I already have flowers. At work, where I’m trying to go right now. You’re making me late.”

“Okay, so.. take me with you to see these flowers.” 

“Take you to work?” Regulus deadpans. James’s face is flushed. 

“Um.. yes? Please? I’ve never seen the back before. And I think I’d look hot in one of those apron things.” 

Regulus rubs at his face with his free hand, and it jostles the bag that hangs off of his shoulder. “I’m not.. Jamie, I’m just going to work. I’ll come straight back here.” 

“Regulus Black. You look me dead in the eyes and tell me you haven’t at least thought of using your lunch break to go to Remus’s apartment.”

“I wouldn’t even have time to make it there..” Regulus mutters petulantly. Because, really, did James think so little of him that he would show up there unannounced to assuage his own hurt feelings? 

Okay.. 

So maybe he has a little bit of a reason to think that, but.. this time is different. This time Regulus knows better. He shouldn't have done it the first time, but he can't take it back. Can't pick the broken vase up off of the floor and glue it back together, because Sirius won't even let him in the hallway. 

James drops his jacket and his wrist in favor of cupping his face, mistaking Regulus's silence for contemplation and forcing eye contact when he says softly, “You heard Sirius on the phone last night. Remus is okay. Under some gross misunderstandings, sure, but he’s not going anywhere. They just need some alone time.” 

“He thinks he hurt me, I should at least..” 

“No, baby. You shouldn’t, not until he’s ready.” 

Regulus all but whines, because he knows James is right. This isn’t about how Regulus feels, it’s not about the way he’s covered in little cuts from the glass because he’s not in danger of bleeding out from the ache, and he can’t make it about him, either. Still, he can’t help the way it frays all of his open edges, being told to wait, to stay away. 

He just needs Remus to see that he’s sorry. That he didn’t mean to use him, or leave him vulnerable. Just needs to be heard when he explains that he’d left thinking they were on the same page. That he’d meant it, when he’d dropped a love bomb, not in an emotionally manipulative way but just.. he’d just meant it. It wasn't supposed to be the kind that went off and shattered delicate things. 

He sees it for what it must’ve looked like, now, though. The way he rushed in and jostled something from its careful perch with his haste. Spent the whole of yesterday thumbing through the worn pages of Remus’s book while he thought about it. He worries that everyone sees what he does, when he looks in the mirror. The stark red lines that he thinks define his character, make him ugly. 

He’s mean. 

He’s selfish. 

He takes from his loved ones open hands as if a beggar in a darkened alley; they give over the things they can, and he makes them bleed the things they cannot. 

He worries that this is all true.  

He worries that he is unforgivable if it is. 

“Sirius is upset with me, too..” Regulus states sadly. 

“He is,” James nods in agreement. He can’t lie when they both had paid witness to the outrage that overtook his brother before he stormed out yesterday. Can’t pretend they didn’t both hear it in the strain of Sirius’s voice, when he’d called. “We can be upset with the people we care about and still love them. Did you know that?” 

Regulus swallows hard, because no, he doesn’t know that. To him it is all consuming, this burned bridge from anger that feels insurmountable as he stands before the flames of it, and it is very hard for him to conceptualize that beyond the smoky plumes is still a perfectly intact connection. 

“That’s okay..” James brushes their noses together, “I know that, and I’m coming with you to work so that you don’t have even a second to think it’s not true.” 

“You’re insufferable.” Regulus mutters, even as he allows James to pick his jacket up and hold it open for him. He slips his arms through without a fight. 

“I know.” James grins as he dawns his own raincoat. 

“I don’t like you.” Regulus insists as he digs through his bag for his keys. 

“You don’t do anything you don’t like, Reggie.” His boyfriend is so fucking cheesy. So annoying. So.. ugh. He loves him. 

“If you upset Mary or the flowers I’m going to bury you in the ground with them.” 

“You’ll give me a whole garden? You’re so romantic, baby.” He purrs as he follows Regulus out. “You can text him, if you want. Pads said to give them space, but I’m sure both of them would like to hear you’re thinking of them.”

…Yeah. Regulus really fucking loves him. 

*

Remus stares at the photo Regulus has sent him. It’s his book of French fables, the one by Jean La Fontaine, and it rests atop his bookbag. 

9:03am, Regulus: Keeping this safe for you..

As if it wasn’t safe on their coffee table, where he’d left it. Where he has left it frequently over the years. As if some harm would have befallen it there if Regulus hadn’t picked it up and kept it close. 

Remus thinks maybe this text is less about the safety of the book, and more about the fact that Regulus is holding onto it. He thinks maybe he’s asking for permission. 

9:10am, Remus: Thank you, darling.

Sirius is bouncing around on the other side of the island, burning toasties because he’s got the heat too high and not enough margarine, but Remus doesn’t mind. He smiles fondly as his boyfriend tries so hard to not set his kitchen on fire. As it is, he starts waving a kitchen towel in the air to clear the smoke, and it makes Remus laugh as he gets up to open a window. 

“You’re hopeless.” He says softly through his smiles.

  “Yes.. well.. we can’t all be smoking hot and a kitchen god, okay?” Sirius feigns annoyance, but he’s blushing, plating up their burnt toasties and pulling Remus back to his seat. He’ll happily eat the offensive lump of cheesy bread if it means Sirius will stop giving his growling stomach looks. 

“Are you talking about myself or James?” He teases. It's not the time, clearly, because it causes the smoky air to still. To thicken. They're going to talk now.

Sirius closes in on him, swinging his chair around to bring his face in close. “You, Moony. Right now it's all about you baby.” 

Remus sighs. “Sweetheart.. I don’t need that. You're in relationships with them, you don't need to pretend with me that you're not, or whatever it is you're trying to do by-"

“Like you’ve been pretending with me?” Sirius raises an accusatory eyebrow. Remus licks his lips warily.

“I’ve not been-..” He starts to lie. But Remus is so sick of the taste of bile in his mouth, and it’s bad enough that he thinks Sirius will taste it too if he speaks the little white words. So, he doesn’t. He sucks them back in on a tired breath and then he says, “Yeah. Yeah, I get it, okay. I just meant.. You can be here with me, for me, without pretending there's no 'them'.” 

Sirius sits down in his chair. He leans back, he gives Remus space even as their knees touch, the table to their side and their food untouched but as Sirius spreads his legs and averts his gaze, Remus thinks he’s suddenly not so hungry for food. “What do you need then, baby? You gotta tell me because I.. I can’t stand for you to keep looking at me like this. Like I’ve already left the room even though I’m sitting right here.” 

Remus shakes his head, and Sirius continues on, “Is it because my attention’s been on Reg? Because I..” 

“You what, Sirius?” Remus scoffs. It’s quiet and he doesn’t mean to, but the heat is there when he says, “You’ll choose me over your brother?”

Remus regrets the words immediately. They’re not what he means and it bugs him, he doesn't want Sirius to choose and that's the whole damn point, but Sirius’s surprised pause has ended and he’s already speaking before Remus can take them back. “ Non . I was going to say, because I’m not going anywhere, and I.. I didn’t notice that you didn’t know that and I feel horrible about it, but it’s clear to me now that you’ve been thinking that I’ve got one foot out the door already and I want to make myself very clear when I say to you, Remus Lupin, that you are fucking stuck with me. No matter my relationships with Reg or Prongs.”

Remus is.. stunned into silence. The air has been sucked out from his lungs because he feels like he’s been on a roller coaster. The kind that goes up and up and up and he was sure that was the scary part, but then Regulus Black was standing all disheveled in their kitchen and the cart he’d been buckled into dived. 

Exhilerating and heart pounding he felt like he was going to fly from the seat, be left behind on the tracks by his loved ones who were still buckled in, but now it’s levelling out again and just those six words “you are fucking stuck with me” has him so grateful that he got on in the first place.

“I’m going to tell you what I want. And then it’s going to be your turn to tell me what you want, and you need to know that it’s okay if what you want is different from what I want because we will work through those differences until we find something that works for all of us, but our relationship is non negotiable, Moony. I haven’t been fucking Regulus or James with any intention of leaving you, and it kills me that you thought I might.”

Sirius takes his hands. His shoulders are relaxed, eyes soft, chin tipped up so that his voice is unwavering when he says, “I love you. Je t'aime. I’m in love with you. I want to spend my life with you. As your partner and your submissive and your person. But I also want them in it. I’m happy with how my relationship with James is, and I want to properly date my brother. I want them intimately, alone and together. I also want them intimately with you. I want them to have relationships with you, too. I want it to be the four of us.”

He pretends he doesn’t feel the tears dripping down his face. He ignores the cries of a beaten dog from inside that warn him he’s hearing lies, and he squeezes Sirius’s hands in his while he finds the courage to believe that what he’s hearing is the truth. 

And then he bears his own dreams to the love of his life, and he does it with his body loose despite the pounding heart, because he is choosing to trust . Because he thinks he can. Because he realizes now, after the hurt has been smoothed over by the vulnerability of Sirus’s reassuring words, that he saw Regulus in the kitchen that day and was reminded of finding another in his and his lover’s bed. Because he sees it, how he’s been internally warring with himself over Sirius’s love for his brother as if Remus didn’t give him permission for it in the first place.

Running himself ragged to be the stable figure, tightening the ties in their relationships while letting his own knots slip.

He’s had it all wrong, and he’s been too stuck in the past, too caught up in how people might not mean the words they say, that he hadn’t considered that they do.

“I want to keep you. And I want to share you with them. And I hadn’t.. anticipated, how hard that would be for me when it was in any more serious capacity then it has been with James. I told myself I was prepared for it, because I was happy to see you happy, but I wasn’t communicating clearly to any of you how.. expendable, I felt. Because I felt like what you and James have was so easy, and I struggled to connect with him. And when we did connect, I assumed it was because you weren’t available. Even when you were, again, I felt.. needed, maybe, but not necessarily.. wanted by him.”

“He wants you, always has.. but he can tell you that himself.” Sirius says quietly while Remus takes a breather to sort through the more complicated matter of Regulus. Remus nods in acknowledgement. He hears, in the back of his head, the warnings of mistrust, but he doesn’t give them a voice. He listens to Sirius’s, instead. 

“I am.. attracted to your brother.” He starts. Pauses to check Sirius’s face for any signs of jealousy or anger, but he finds none. His love’s face is soft and calm, if not a bit.. wistful. 

“I have no way of knowing if he feels the same, but when he looks at me I feel wanted. I feel this connection to him that begs me to chase it into the stars.” 

Sirius squeezes his hands. “That’s good. So good." 

"I want to have him. To have and have earned his submission, because he falls so fucking beautifully, just like you, darling." 

Sirius blushes. Remus watches as his eyes dart to the crotch of his sleep pants and then back up, and Remus tugs on his hands in response. “Why aren’t you in my lap, hmm?” Remus sighs. 

“I’m.. giving you space.” Sirius shifts, a subtle indication of his nerves.

“I don’t want it.” Remus says immediately. 

Sirius’s breath escapes him. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Sirius abandons his chair in favor of climbing in Remus’s lap, and Remus wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, nuzzling at the pale expanse of his neck. “Is that okay with you?”

“Is what okay with me?” Sirius murmurs, fingers diving into Remus’s hair. Remus loves that. He has no words for how much he loves it. The gentle glide of nails against his scalp that once would have set him off, from Sirius is an assurance of his presence, of his love. 

“That I want to take your brother as my submissive, if he might want that. If James is okay with sharing.” 

Sirius leans in, and he shares his lips, molding theirs together in a tangle that doesn’t stay soft, and nice for long. Their kiss deepens, it gets heavy, it gets distracting but Remus has more he needs to say and so he pulls his mouth away. “Be a good boy and answer my question.” 

“Can’t you feel the answer?” Sirius purrs with a sweet little arch of his hips, and Remus can of course, but-

“I need to hear you say it.” 

“I’m okay with you wanting, or having, my brother as a submissive and a partner. I am so, so okay with it. You directing us is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, Moony, and it makes me feel so good that you want him, too. So proud and giddy and excited and hopeful . Next question?” 

Remus hides his grin in the brush of his teeth against Sirius’s neck as he talks. He can’t help it, with the way his boyfriend loses his mind, starts to fall so easily at the slightest suggestion. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but Remus uses it to his advantage when he pulls Sirius’s hips harder against his own, just the right angle of thigh against sensitive divots to pull a moan from Sirius’s lips. Payback's a bitch, after all. 

“I have a.. request. A need I’ve been neglecting because I.. I couldn’t let myself ask for it. Because I've been scared that if I have it, I could lose it.. but I’m asking now and I think it will help me avoid feeling.. left out.” 

“Anything.” Sirius promises, and the word is overflowing with sincerity. Remus could ask for Sirius to drain the sky that he’s felt himself drowning in, and his love would bleed the murky depths dry. He doesn’t though, here merely requests a lifeboat. 

“Move in with me, darling? It’s been too dark at night the past couple of weeks and I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

“Oh, Moony..” Sirius cups his face gently, “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to ask me that." 

"Is that a yes?" Remus dares to ask.

" Oui. Yes, yes, of course it's a yes. Oh, I love you so much." Sirius peppers his face in kisses. Wet and sweet and soft, their little language of affection. 

Remus stifles his laugh, adopting a nonchalant tone when he says, "You should keep your room at James's too, though." 

"Why?" Sirius gives him a confused little tip of the head. 

Remus shrugs. "So we have our own room when one or both of us stays there.." He leans in trailing his mouth to Sirius's ear and whispering sternly, "And because those little green glass bowls aren't coming anywhere near this apartment, darling." 

He watches the flush color Sirius's pale skin in the pinks of a sunset. He slips his fingers up under the hem of his shirt and traces one of his favorite tattoos, a crescent moon hanging over fuzzy ocean views. He pulls Sirius's hips in gentle waves against his own. He climbs onto the lifeboat and he floats. 

*

As it turns out, James Potter is not the worst distraction one could have at work. In the way that means Regulus gets nothing done but he can’t even be mad about it, because his boyfriend pulls this quirky little scrapbooking knowledge out of his head, and they spend the time they’re not misusing the hall closet or the bathroom, pressing flowers. 

Just the old ones. The ones that are slightly too wilted for sale or that have too many petals missing. They press them with an assortment of heavy things between paper towels and let them dry under the windshield in Regulus’s car and because James is about as graceful as a baby deer, this means there ends up being the dried, flaky remains of said flowers all over his seats.

He can’t even mind because the floral smells that greet them in the morning and the afternoons are so unlike the potent ones at work. These promote calm. They are dead earth and they soothe the soul like the sentiment that someone may say they see their deceased loved ones in the image of butterflies, or hummingbirds. 

Regulus brings in a handful of peppermint leaves and puts them in a container so that James’s clumsiness cannot wreck their pretty pointed shapes. 

When he finds himself alone in the bathroom stall on Thursday morning, he pulls out his phone and lets himself stare at the last two text threads in his recents. 

(Tuesday) 9:10am, Remus: Thank you, darling.

(Tuesday) 1:42pm, Sirius: I’ll see you in a couple days. Sorry I yelled. I love u reg

Regulus is happy they’ve had time alone together. He hopes they’re talking, because James and him had spent a great deal of their time doing so. It was all one big conversation, but James went easy on him, broke it up so that it was one soft, unimposing question at a time, hours apart, seemingly unrelated but Regulus knew his boyfriend was adding up all the answers in his head as if they’d sat down and worked it out all at once. 

“You care for Remus.” James pointed out Tuesday morning. It wasn’t a question, but Regulus nodded and made a little “Mm..” sound in confirmation.  

At lunch he’d asked, “Do you just want the sex, or something more?” 

Regulus had slurped up a noodle, wiped his mouth and mumbled, “More. I want to know him, want to.. date him, like I date you.” He spent an extra twenty minutes after his break thumbing through Remus’s book while James watched quietly. 

“Why did you go to him after our fight?” James was curious that night while they showered together. "Why didn't you go back to your flat?" 

“It felt safer to go to him.” Regulus admitted through soapy suds that slid down from his hair. James doesn't ask him why a man he barely knew would feel safer then his own space, and he's thankful for that, because he doesn't think he has a very good answer. 

On Wednesday morning, on the ride to work, James pointed out, "You said you want to date him like you date me, right?" 

Regulus glanced sideways at him, “Yeah?”

“Well.. I’m not just your boyfriend, baby. I’m also your dom.” 

“Yeah, Jamie, I know..” Regulus swallowed hard, eyes glued to the road lest he crash his car due to this conversation. But he thought, as James continued, that maybe his dom knew he needed the distraction in order to even have it. 

“So is that what you want from him as well?” James’s tone was soft, leading, more of a statement then a question. 

“Would that be okay?” With you? He added in his head. 

He sees James shoot him a reassuring smile out of the corner of his eye, and the hand he’s holding squeezes his. “Yeah, sweet thing, it’s okay with me.” 

“You wouldn’t be jealous?”

“I was never jealous in a way that meant I didn’t want you to have him, or him to have you. I just want to know that he wants me too, because it took longer between us and so it feels as rocky as your new trust does, for me.”

After a couple minutes of silence, Regulus saw fit to add, “I think I want to submit to him differently than I do for you, though..” 

“Oh yeah?” James asked, tone light like they were discussing the weather, “Different how?” 

Regulus cleared his throat, grip tight with one hand on the wheel as he tried his best to explain, “With you, I like to fight it. I like to run and be difficult and you like to chase me down and rough me up for it. You go all.. animalistic and spontaneous with it, and I love that. But with him.. I feel like I can.. Let him take care of me.” 

“That’s a big ask, Reggie. If you want him to take care of you like that, it can’t go un-discussed. You have to ask him if he wants to do that for you. Or with you, pretty thing. And especially right now, you’ve gotta keep in mind that even if he wants to, he might not have the emotional energy for it.” 

James is right, he admits to himself grudgingly. Remus is clearly in a delicate place and Regulus has taken advantage of his open arms one too many times (or two, too many times) for comfort, on top of letting him guide them all together while they all turned a blind eye to his emotional needs. It was all so shitty, and it just served as a reminder that Regulus probably didn’t even deserve it. 

“I know..” He mumbled, and they were silent the rest of the drive. 

James didn’t push him to go on, but Regulus spent the entire day letting the guilt of how much he had expected from Remus eat him alive. He buried himself in the dirt until it hid his skin and collected under his fingernails because he felt so ashamed of himself. 

When they got home, Regulus felt tense with a constant plague of self-hatred that had hung over him like a cloud. He asked James to take a bath with him, to wash his hair and tell him jokes until he stopped making snippy comments about them and started laughing. James had called him such a good, good boy for asking for it. 

After the bath, they cuddled in James’s (their?) bed. They kissed quietly, a low simmering heat for a while before James had him turn around and spooned him. Held him close, stroked the arm of his skin and kept him warm. He was half asleep when he finally found the courage to ask the question that had been hanging like a dead man off his tongue since the morning. 

“Do you think Sirius would be okay with sharing Remus that way? If Remus can forgive me, and if I ask to submit to him and if he says yes?”

James nuzzled in behind his ear and said softly, “I think that I saw pride on his face every time Remus has praised you for following orders so well when we’ve been intimate together. But you’re asking a question that isn’t for me to answer, aren’t you baby?”

“I would ask them if they would let me..” Regulus muttered petulantly. 

“I know. I know, sweet thing. Soon, I’m sure. Soon. But I’m here now, is that enough? Is that okay?” 

And yes, Regulus was edgy from the unresolved conflict between him and Sirius. He was aching desperately to correct the miscommunication between him and Remus. He missed both men so intensely, their absences both so keenly noticed if only because Regulus was feeling anxiety over knowing not everything was well between them.

But James was warm at his back. He’d taught him to press flowers and he’d been so gentle in his probe for Regulus’s desires about their relationships. He’d been there to distract him through his worries and hold him through his self doubts and he’d kept Regulus grounded, because despite his every resentment for the statement, he could admit to himself then the urge he’d felt these past few days, kept only at bay by his boyfriend’s hand in his. Regulus was a flight risk. 

So Regulus had made a soft, happy little “Mm” sound, pressing his back against the stability that held him safely in strong arms. “You are. I love you, James.” He whispered.

“I love you too Reggie.” James had whispered back. 

*

“Reggie, you in there?” A knock and James’s voice startles Regulus out of his revelry. He’s shoving his phone away as he lets himself out of the stall when a hand comes down on his chest and pushes him back into it. 

“James?” Regulus gasps, startled. “What’re you doing?” 

But James doesn’t answer his question, he’s too busy pressing him against the stalls dingy orange wall and kissing him hard, hands roaming from Regulus’s chest down to his fly. 

Regulus brings his hands up to James’s shoulders and he pushes. James backs away just enough for him to see the sly, manic little grin on his face that makes Regulus blush red. 

“What is with you and bathrooms?” He can’t help but laugh. 

James shrugs, “I think it’s you and bathrooms. I’ve never had so much bathroom sex in my life until we started fucking.” 

Regulus lets himself be crowded again. Lets James undo his fly but before James can kneel, Regulus does it for him. Drops to his knees swiftly, ignores the hard ground underneath him and works deftly at opening James’s pants. 

James, above him, is slack jawed. “Reg, baby..” 

Regulus looks up at his boyfriend through his lashes. He knows what James is about to say, knows he doesn’t have to. “I want to. Can I, please, Jamie?” 

James groans. For all of the ways in which he likes the fight, enjoys the taming, Regulus knows he is a sucker for when Regulus wants something so badly that he asks nicely.

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, ‘course you can.” James’s fingers curl up in his hair. They get a nice, solid grip on the thick strands and twist, leverage for when Regulus really gets going.

He gets James out of his pants and is rewarded with a breathy moan as he strokes the soft skin of his length. He watches as a bead of slick pools at the sweet crescent slit on his head and leans in, kitten licking at the tip to collect it in his mouth. “Mmm..” He hums, lips closed against the sensitive spot just under. 

His hand strokes, slow and torturous as he smooths the head along his lips. He rubs it against his cheek, then his other, lets the scent rub off on his skin, wants it to be messy because he’s at work and he has maybe ten minutes tops before Mary comes to find him and yell at him for leaving the counter unattended, and he wants to feel dirtied by what they’ve done in here when she does. 

Breath hisses through James’s teeth. “Shit. Reg. That’s so..” 

“Hm?” Regulus hums again, and he shakes his length, tapping it against his skin. It’s debasing and it makes him feel slutty and he loves it. 

“You’re driving me nuts, pretty thing..” 

“Good.” Regulus says smugly, and then he leans up on his knees so that his mouth hovers above James’s cock and he spits. Lets the saliva pool out of his mouth in a sticky stream down onto the shaft in his hand. Lets it wet his fingers, gets them slippier where they move. 

“Last warning, doll..” James groans. Regulus hears his head thunk back against the stall wall, and he takes pity on him.

He slips his lips around the head of his cock, hollows his cheeks and sucks. It’s not enough to really do anything besides tease, but only because Regulus is busy moving his tongue all around, swallowing down as much of the taste as he can before pushing forward until he’s nosing the wiry hair at his base.

He does this a couple of times, slow and careful before glancing up at his boyfriend and catching him watching. Eyes heated, intense, mouth open. It makes Regulus preen. James’s hands tug just so on his hair and it’s all the cue he needs.

He speeds up. 

He sucks harder.

He uses his tongue as a torture device. 

It works, James comes with a barely muffled grunt, before he can even warn Regulus that he’s going to. 

Regulus swallows, thick salt coating his tongue as he does.

He pulls his mouth off and it’s a wet mess on his lips and on James’s cock and James isn’t going to have it, he says under his breath in a tone that makes Regulus shiver, “You made the mess, you clean it up, pretty boy.” 

Happily, Regulus replaces his mouth and laps like an excited dog in heat at the mess until it’s hardly damp. When he's done, he sits back on his heels and delicately puts James’s cock back into his pants, zipping him up and pressing a soft kiss there. 

He gazes, eyes up, all glassy and obedient as he waits for James to tell him what to do with himself because he’s hard and his mouth is still watering for the taste of cock but James doesn’t like to come twice, or three or four times like Regulus does and so he’s stopped, but he wants to keep going . 

Is desperate for it. 

Is out of time, because Mary bangs her fist on the bathroom door and threatens to fire him if he’s not out in five, and he really doesn’t want to lose his job. 

Shit. 

James edges him religiously for the rest of the afternoon. Is absolutely devoted to using his words, his touches, the view of his body to tempt Regulus away from his 9 to 5 in search of the promised land. Regulus doesn’t listen to the siren song, calls the man a snake, endures his throbbing prick for all of five more hours and has barely parked before he’s pulling James in and landing punishing kisses on his mouth. 

Teeth clash, shirts come off, they’re in the fucking car still and it’s like, twenty steps tops to the inside of the apartment and he can’t make it. James pulls the hottest move Regulus has ever seen, truly makes him swoon the way he reaches blindly under his seat and shoves it back roughly, giving him leeway to stretch out. 

He scans the street but it’s thankfully a quiet residential one, and empty under the darkening sky the evening provides. James opens up his fly again and this time Regulus lets him.

Thinks he’ll die if he doesn't. 

James’s mouth is heaven sent. It’s sweet and sinful. It’s too fucking good, honestly, Regulus wonders if he’s gone to fucking classes for this or something, and it’s a little irritating, this mental image of James being taught to suck cock and it prompts him to be a little mean. 

To pull his boyfriend’s hair and buck his hips, choke him a little. He can feel James grinning against him, and after he comes he gets to see it, the way it lights his handsome face and fuels his ego. 

Regulus wipes a bit of his own slick from the corner of James’s lips with his thumb, and sucks it into his own mouth. It makes James groan, and oh, Regulus loves that sound.

He says thank you, outloud and sweet and in that same tone he used to say “Can I, please, Jamie?” earlier. 

His heart has just stopped pounding and they’re just about to finally get out of the car and go inside when James’s phone rings. Regulus can tell from the way James looks at the screen, and then up at him with wary hope, who it is. 

“Pads?” James answers softly. 

They’re close, but James must have his volume down, because Regulus can’t hear his reply. 

“Yeah, he’s here with me. Sure, yeah, just let me uh-,” James presses the mute button and aims his question at Regulus when he asks, “Your brother wants to talk to you..” 

Regulus bites down on his lip and holds out his hand. When James hands it to him he takes a deep breath and then unmutes it. Don’t be weird, you’ve missed him, just say hello, he scolds himself. 

But a couple of days between them, with their history, feels like years, and suddenly his heart is beating too fast again to get the words out.. Until James’s hand comes down on his knee. 

“Siri?” It startles out of him. 

“Reg. Hey, I uh, I tried your cell first but it went to voicemail.” 

His cell, which had 20% battery at lunch and he hadn’t heard it ring, so was probably dead in his bag. “You called me first?” 

“Yeah, I.. I need to tell you that I’m sorry. And I am. Sorry, that is. I’d like to say it in person though, and Moony’s feeling better so.. I think we all need to sit down together and have a talk about.. this. Us. All of us, you know..” 

Sirius trails off, and Regulus jumps in with eager apologies and over enthusiastic agreements because he’s made so fucking weak by the soft, shy tone his brother is using. “I’m sorry too. So sorry, you don’t need to be, I would’ve been angry too, I shouldn’t have.. I need to say I’m sorry to Remus too. Because I am, you have no idea, he has no idea how much I.. and yeah, yeah we all need to talk. We need to.. together, yeah, um, when did you want to?” 

James’s eyebrows are raised so far up that it’s almost comedic, and it makes Regulus internally groan. But James squeezes his knee and Regulus realizes he's rambling. "Je suis désolé." (“I’m sorry.") He whispers into the phone. 

“Reggie.. baby.. breathe. Will you and James come over for dinner tomorrow night?” 

“ Oui ,” he agrees immediately. 

“ Bien . That’s good. Bring wine, yeah?” 

“Wine. Yeah. Definitely.” 

There’s a short pause between them before Regulus asks softly, “Is Remus..” 

“He’s okay. You two need to talk, though.. You know that, right?” 

“ Oui . Yeah, I know, I.. I rushed things. I crossed lines I shouldn’t have and expected things from him that weren’t..” Regulus sighs, “I treated him like something he isn’t, to me. Yet. Again.” 

“...That. Is almost scarily verbatim what he thought he did to you. I just.. thought you should know that. Alors, vous savez, ne paniquez pas. (So don’t, you know, panic.) About talking to him. Okay?” 

Regulus blinks in the darkening of the car at James. And James smiles at him, a soft and reassuring little thing. “Okay. Okay, yeah.. Sirius?” 

“Yeah?” 

" Tu me manques." (“I miss you.”) 

"Tu me manques aussi." (“I miss you too.”) 

“See you tomorrow?” Regulus’s knee bounces as he prolongs the sweet echoe of his brother’s voice in his ear. 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Reggie.” 

“Did you want to talk to James some more?”

“No, it’s okay. Tomorrow.”

“Right.. Sure.” 

“Baby..” 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m going to say bye now, and you’re going to say it back, and then I’m going to hang up, and I’ll see you tomorrow, d'accord? (okay?)” 

“..O-okay.” 

“Okay. Bye, Reggie.”

“Bye, Siri.” 

The click of the end call button hums, the line goes, and Regulus glances down at his bag, and the little container of dried peppermint that’s stowed safely inside. “James?”

“Yeah?” 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a laminating machine, would you?”  

Chapter Text

Regulus wore a green shirt. It wasn’t the same one he’d thrown at Sirius, he hadn’t gotten that back, but it had long sleeves and it was soft where it hugged his skin and he hoped it would send a message. 

He wore black, loose fit trousers over lace. Not to be presumptuous, but to be bold. To be pleasing. Because they made him feel brave. 

He had his book bag on one shoulder, filled with Remus’s present and the top shelf wine they’d stopped to get before coming over, and he held James’s hand because it was the only thing to stifle the nerves he was feeling now as he watched his boyfriend knock on the apartment door. 

Three sharp taps, and Regulus has the thought that they probably could’ve just let themselves in. None of them were strangers. But tonight wasn’t the time to make assumptions. Tonight was for respecting boundaries and listening to honesty and returning truths of their own, and not for things like expecting it to be okay to let themselves into the apartment just because they were all.. close, usually. 

He wishes he could shake this feeling that space and time caused to build in him. This overriding sense of doom that things were not fine, that things were going to end. It’s only been a couple of days, people are allowed their privacy when they need it and he knows this.

He also knows that if he had been the one to ask for it, he would be annoyed at anyone falling apart around the edges because of it. But Regulus learned to be hypocritical from the best, and so he’s hazy around the outline of himself where he knows he’s been picking. 

James is decidedly less anxious. He’s been in Sirius’s and Remus’s lives for many years now and he’s rather sure they’ve not invited them over to dump him or anything. He was their friend long before he was anything else and he doesn’t have the slightest concern that he’ll lose that. His confidence is refreshing to Regulus, who doesn’t think he could have handled the day of impatiently waiting if not for the sure footing his boyfriend provided him.

It’s also annoying as hell. Because Regulus doesn’t have that bond with them that James does, that history that allows him surety that they will be fine after they talk. But he let James comfort him anyway. And he knows, under the bravado, that James has a couple of questions of his own, specifically for Remus. 

He knows that if they’re going to do this, to build these relationships between each other intimately and unapologetically, that James needs to ask Remus where he stands. Knows he needs to hear Remus say it, whether it’s that he likes him, he wants him, or he doesn’t. 

It’s Sirius who opens the door. Regulus’s mouth dries at the sight of him, hair up in a slightly less messy bun then usual, clearly freshly washed, his shirt a satin black button up and he’s got the top three open, revealing the splattering of black tattoos that line his collarbones and cover his pecks. Regulus’s eyes drift down to the jeans he wears, tight and skinny, they elongate his legs further and hug the curves. Bare feet, rings on his fingers, silver loops that hang from his ears. Regulus shifts where he stands, pulling the bag up higher on his shoulder. 

“Pads,” James says, and the fucker abandons Regulus’s hand to wrap Sirius up in a sure hug, which Sirius returns with a smile. 

He flashes that fond grin at Regulus too as he says, “Prongs, Reg, hey.” 

“Hey..” Regulus breathes out. 

Sirius pats James on the back before he untangles himself, and then he’s pointing with a thumb behind him. “You mind going and helping Moony in the kitchen, Prongs? I’d like a word with my brother,” Sirius looks at him again, “If that’s okay?” 

“Yeah, sure. Reggie, baby, you wanna hand me the wine?” 

Regulus blushes, and fishes out the wine to hand over as he mumbles, “Yeah, here.” 

James brushes past Sirius into the apartment and then it's just the two of them standing in the empty hallway. Sirius closes the door and it cuts off the soft flow of music that was coming from inside, so it’s startlingly quiet. Just the two of them breathing, and Regulus shuffles on his feet again. 

“I’m sorry-” Regulus starts.

“Look Reg..” Sirius says at the same time. 

They both pause, and stare at each other, and the silence builds like a silent crescendo of feathers tickling lungs before they’re both laughing. 

A chorus of happy, awkward, light hearted sounds that brings tears to Regulus’s eyes with the force of it coming from his stomach. 

“Why are you laughing?” Regulus gasps. 

“Why are you? ” Sirius shoots back, both of them grinning, chuckling still. 

“I.. I don’t know! I just.. this is so awkward!” 

Sirius nudges his shoulder playfully, and Regulus nudges back, and then suddenly his back is against the wall and instead of pushing his brother away in this play fight of theirs he’s pulling him in by the fabric of his shirt. They’re both panting through wide smiles, faces close and Regulus can't let it go another moment even if it ruins the mood so he says, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Siri.”

“ I’m sorry Reggie. I should never have yelled at you like that. I lost my head worrying about Moony and I didn’t stop to think about how you weren’t in your right of mind either.”

“I deserved it. You were right, I was.. I am selfish. Everything about what I did, running to him and.. and trauma dumping on him when he hardly even knows me and then leaving, I can’t believe I did that.” 

“It was shitty.. but you weren’t good, and he wasn't good either, and none of us could've known how bad things were in his head because he wasn't telling us. He didn't tell me and I.. I was so focused on us that I couldn't see he thought there wasn't going to be a 'me and him' for much longer."

“No..” Regulus gasps, “Why would he think that?” 

“Moony’s had an abundance of grief in his life when it comes to love. He’s used to people saying they love him and then not.. meaning it. Not sticking around or showing that they do. So, even if he didn’t mean to, he figured we were all just..”

“Lying to him.” He finishes for his brother. Sirius drops his head, their foreheads touching so Regulus can feel him nod. 

He’s whispering, and it sounds like it hurts him when he says, “He thought he was helping us build a relationship that ultimately wasn’t going to include him.”

Regulus is speechless in his heartbreak. He is in shatters over the knowledge that this man, solid and formidable and beautiful, thought that he or Sirius or James could do this without him. Thought that his family would abandon him for something.. smaller. Something less, without him in it. 

Sirius’s body weight leans into him, pressing him into the wall, “So I need to know, Reggie, before I can let you in there to make or break his heart, what you intend to have with him.”

Regulus opens his mouth to answer, this immediate spit of want and desire and need but Sirius cuts him off to further say, “And you need to know that nothing is an option too. You can be his boyfriend or his friend or his acquaintance or nothing at all to him, and you won’t lose me for any of the options you choose, I promise you that.” 

Again, Regulus tries to force his answer out, to interrupt his brother but still he continues, and the gravity of his tone weighs heavily on his conscience, because the warning hurts and yet he understands why Sirius needs to give it, “ Except if you think to take me from him. Because I won't go, I won't leave him, and you will lose me for trying.”

“Never.” Regulus gasps, “I would never try to take you from him, or him from you. I wouldn’t ever want to .” 

Sirius’s eyes pin him in place. They search his, and Regulus knows the truth shines through, loud and clear and sky blue, but Sirius still asks, “Then what do you want, baby?” 

And Regulus still answers, “I want him. I want you, and James, and me, and him, together. ” 

Sirius’s eyes flutter closed as the words sink in, his body relaxing against Regulus’s. 

“..Can we kiss and make up now?” Regulus asks in a small, shy voice, and he basks in the glow of the soft, slow smile that spreads across his brother’s face. 

*

Remus can tell that James has something on his mind. He knows the man well enough by now to see the distraction in the way he under stirs the pasta sauce and keeps pausing while he grates the parmesan. 

Sirius spent the past couple days reassuring him of lots of things, but regardless of his perspective, he couldn’t convince Remus fully that James wasn’t jealous about the time he spent intimately with Regulus, and so he takes advantage of the silence in the apartment while the other two men are still outside of it to quietly apologize. 

“James, I owe you an apology for what I did with Regulus. He’s your boyfriend and I should have never assumed that you would be okay with sharing him with me alone just because you were okay with sharing him with Sirius.” He busies himself with drying the cooking utensils he’s just washed so that he doesn’t watch for James’s reaction, but when silence is his reply, he’s forced to look up.

James is staring at him, forehead crinkled in obvious uncomfortability. Remus sighs, “It’s okay, you don’t have to forgive me for it now.” 

“Why would I..” James comes forward a couple of steps, so there’s maybe an arms length between them, the sink at Remus’s back. He shakes his head. “There’s nothing for me to forgive, Moony. If anything, I owe you a giant apology for my behavior when I showed up here to get him. And a thank you, which I tried to give by the way, but you never picked up your phone..”

“A.. thank you?” Remus stutters, confused.

“For what you did for him, which, for the record, I didn’t know the extent of until the same time as Sirius, otherwise we never would've left. But, regardless, it sorted some things out for him that I think would’ve still been a tangled mess if you hadn’t.. So, thank you.” 

Remus blinks, a slow close of his eyes as he tries to comprehend that James is thanking him for something Remus has been internally beating himself up over for days. He’s at a loss, honestly, and so he mumbles a confused, “You’re.. Welcome?”

James’s head tilts as he stares down at the floor, “I didn’t storm in here yelling about fairness because I wasn’t comfortable sharing him, Moony. I was jealous, but not of you. I was.. jealous of him. Because you barely know him and you let him in so readily. So easily. And I was fresh off being told by yet another person I was in love with that I wasn’t enough, that I needed to back off and take no for an answer, and I know it’s been years since that time when you and me didn’t really connect but it was like suddenly this wound I hadn’t given notice to in a while was festering and life threatening and I was so hurt that you could like him so fast when.. when you couldn’t like me for years, and nowhere near the amount you already like him.” 

Remus hears a wounded sound ring in his ears. Realizes it came from him, because he feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “You were jealous.. that he had my affection?” 

“Yes..”

“Because you.. think you don’t?” 

James chews at his lip. “Um.. well. I know we’re friends, I guess. But I often think I like you a lot more than you like me. It’s always me coming to you and initiating affection or intimacy and I didn’t really have a problem with that before because I thought, yaknow, I’m just an addition to you and Sirius’s relationship. That you were happy to give it when I asked but you didn’t really..” 

“I didn’t really, what, James?” Remus asks quietly. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“I need to hear it anyway.” 

James swallows hard. He’s staring at his hands as he struggles to explain, “You didn’t, um.. want me, really, you were just.. happy to have me, when I was there. I filled a gap, sometimes, but having my love or loving me wasn’t necessary for you to be happy.”

The words float through his brain like molasses, slow and syrupy, they float in a congruent line while Remus struggles to apply them to the man in front of him. James, who he’d struggled to connect with, who he’d always felt sort of on the outs with, who he couldn’t seem to get close enough to, and Remus chastises himself as he speaks because maybe it really was for a lack of fucking trying. 

“James,” He gasps into the space between them. 

“It’s stupid, I know, we are all going to have different relationships with each other and different levels of love for each other and that’s. That’s okay, I’m okay with that. I think there needs to be a you and me, a you and each of them, a me and each of them, and especially a them together for us to all be.. well.. you, me, and them. So maybe, if you could tell me how you feel about me, and I can do the same for you, then I can stop wondering where in the rank I fall and just be.. happy to be somewhere on the scoreboard, yaknow?” 

“It’s not stupid. It’s not. I just.. I don’t have a scoreboard, if I’m being honest, and even if I did.. I wouldn't know how to explain your score to you. Because, I was attracted to you from the first moment I saw you, and I spent the first year of knowing you on the side lines, jealous of the bond you instantly had with Sirius because I didn’t know how he did it, or how to form that with you myself.”

“You.. oh.” James stares at him, all startled and wide eyed and sweet. Remus can’t help it, he’s riding this high of the last few days with Sirius where he let himself hold and touch and make eye contact and he didn’t get burnt for it, so he reaches out and he pulls James in by his waist. Broad chest against his own, James is shorter than him so he leans down to be close when he continues. 

“And then you came running to me after Lily, and I told you Sirius wasn’t there and you didn’t care , you told me you were there to see me and I knew I was fucked in the heart for feeling so.. happy, about that. And that week Sirius had to work nights, you ended up in my bed and then I was just happy to be a good enough replacement for him. I expected it to end, but then Pads was off nights and you two were treating my bed like the main one for all of us, rotating between it or sharing it and I didn’t stop you because it felt so.. so fucking nice to be included, to have you in it. The nights you spent together without me, I was.. incredibly lonely.” 

“Moons, you could’ve followed us to whatever bed you wanted. We wanted you to.” 

Remus sighs, “I’m going to sound like a broken record, James, but the plot of every “You could’ve” Or “Why didn’t you if you wanted it” that you could ask me is going to be that I didn’t know how. I didn’t know I could, without getting hurt.” 

“Oh..” James breaths. Remus can’t help it, he leans down to kiss him, just one soft little peck. James melts against him.

“And then we started spending the nights where it was just the two of us kissing, and frotting, and I.. I asked you why we were doing that..” 

He feels James cringe as he remembers. “You did. You did ask me that and I.. oh god. I blew you off..” 

Remus shrugs. “You didn’t blow me off. I thought it was incredibly valid that you wanted a person for yourself. I listened to your argument for it, and I could’ve interrupted you at any moment to say that Sirius and I would happily be those people for you, that I wanted so badly to be one of them, but I just.. didn’t.” 

“You couldn’t. Because I was laying there wanting you to, wanting to kiss you and love you and wanting you to want that too, all while saying ‘No Moony, it can’t be you’, oh my god.” There’s so much guilt dripping off of James’s tongue that Remus fears they’ll need a mop to clean it all up off of the floor. 

“I wanted that intense love for you, James. Even if it wasn’t me..”

“It could be. You, I mean. We could be that for each other, all four of us.” 

Remus pulls him closer, finally feeling strong enough to grip the people he wants tighter. To ask to keep them. “We could be. Is that what you want, James? You want to be my person, too?” 

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes, Moony, please?” 

“On one condition.” Remus smiles fondly down at this man, wondering how he could’ve ever mistaken the looks he gets from him as anything less than a deep, intense connection .

“What’s that?” 

Remus swats a hand playfully on his ass, making him jump as he chuckles, “Don’t burn my fucking sauce, Prongs. Get your shit together and stir it.” 

“Sir, yes sir.” James grins up at him, offering him a mock salute before he turns to do just that. 

*

It took several minutes, some thorough kissing and some big, deep breaths to get Regulus inside of Remus’s apartment, because for all of Sirius’s good mood, his warnings to not break his boyfriend’s heart which certainly indicated he meant enough to the man to be able to in the first place, he still hadn’t expected to be greeted so.. warmly. 

To be pulled into a hug, right there in the middle of the kitchen, strong arms circling his shoulders and pulling him into Remus’s chest. it was such a surprise, in fact, that he froze for a second. Paused, a seemingly long length of time where he couldn’t get his arms to work. 

When he did, it was following a whimper, and he wrapped them around Remus’s waist and buried his face into his shirt, another soft cotton blue one. 

“You’re okay..” he gasped. Not for any resounding knowledge that he was , but because Remus had felt like sand slipping through his own spread fingers for the last few days and holding him now, it was finally taking shape again, solidifying. 

Still, through all of the affection, Regulus pulled back and surveyed the lines of his face for the cracks he knew were there. He found some, little lines he resolved to glue back together with meticulous care. 

Remus gave him a soft, sad little smile, “I’m getting there. How are you, darling?” 

Regulus could have melted into a salty puddle at the nickname. He did, he thinks, if the breathy tone of his voice is anything to go by when he says, “I’ve missed you.” 

The panic could so easily take hold, the way his brain screams at his mouth because he’s supposed to be friendly, only friendly until he’s given permission to be more, but then Remus was hugging him and he just couldn’t help but say it anyway. 

Friends can miss friends, can’t they? 

Except friends probably don’t turn wide, accidental “fuck me” eyes up at their friend and whimper when their cheek is cupped or when they get a soft kiss on the cheek. 

Regulus misinterpreted those kisses before, he thinks, because they definitely mean an “I love you” when given to Sirius, but he thinks Remus doesn’t mean it like that when he gives them to him. Because he can’t have been handing those over so freely while thinking Regulus was going to steal everything he actually loves away from him, right?

“I missed you too.” Remus nods, and then he steps away and pours Regulus a glass of wine. He gladly accepts, taking a sip as he leans back against the counter.

When he looks around, he notices that Sirius and James have abandoned the kitchen. Left them alone, to talk. Regulus hates this part, but he knows it’s necessary.

Still, he flinches when Remus starts, because he’s not even looking at him when he says, “The other day, between us, James says it helped you. And I’m glad, I am, don’t mistake what I’m about to say as me not being glad to have helped, but.. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Regulus licks his lips. “I know that, now.” 

“You aren’t my submissive, Regulus, or even my boyfriend,” Regulus thinks he hears an unsaid yet in the pause, “You were emotionally unwell and I acted rashly in putting together a scene for you. It came from a place of meaning well, but.. that doesn’t make it right, and I’m sorry.” His tone is bland, it’s a rehearsed line, it’s something he’s saying just to voice the truth of their situation between them and it cuts Regulus deep. Shards in his skin. 

“I know.” He croaks again. “I’m sorry I came to you like that. It won't happen again.”

Remus turns to face him then, “That’s not what I want, Regulus.” 

“Then what do you.. No. No, wait, I-I have something for you.” Regulus drops his bag on an empty bar stool and fishes through it for the wrapped little rectangular box. He thumbs at the purple wrapping before he holds it out to Remus. 

Remus takes it, a confused look on his face when he asks, “What's this?”

“It’s a gift. I wanted you to have it before we talk about the heavy stuff, the wants and the needs, because I want you to know that I.. that I care for you, and I was thinking of you this week. And I made that for you and I want you to have it, regardless of the outcome of the conversation.” 

He gets a soft, warm look then. It makes him flush. Remus carefully opens the paper by the taped edges, shimmies the box out and when he pulls the little plastic out from where it's safely nestled it frees the sage green tassels. It glints in the light overhead, showcasing the golden sparkles that float around the carefully positioned leaves. 

“Is this..” Remus stares with wide, almost distressed eyes at the handmade bookmark. 

“It’s peppermint..” Regulus shrugs, pulling out Remus’s book from his bag too, “Your old one was looking a bit worse for wear, and I thought you might like the reminder of Sirius when you open to your favorite pages, so..” 

Regulus sets the book on the counter, and then he twists his fingers together and rings them out, fidgeting as he waits for Remus to react. 

Remus, for his part, closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. There are pin prick holes, hardly visible in the lamentation over each of the peppermint leaves, allowing the scent to bleed through, not obtrusively, but just enough. 

“Fuck.” Remus mutters, eyes squeezed shut still. 

Regulus’s heart flutters with anxiety. “Is it.. okay?” 

He expects a polite “yes, lovely, thank you” or even an offhanded “I’m happy with my old one” or a cruel “this was a waste of your time”, he doesn’t expect another hug. He doesn’t expect to be pulled into strong arms once more and then backed into the counter and lifted up on top of it, and he certainly doesn’t expect to be kissed; passionately, deeply, wetly, on the mouth. 

He doesn’t stop any of it, though. He lets himself be hugged, lifted, kissed. He kisses Remus back, a desperate press of lips as he tastes the man on his tongue. He tastes like salt, like tomato and something herby and like the wine Regulus and James brought and he drinks it down readily. 

He spreads his legs and hooks his ankles around the backs of Remus’s thighs. Remus’s hands press against his lower back, press them together and Regulus moans into his mouth unabashedly. 

Remus is all over him. His smell and his taste and his moving hands, his body pressing wherever fits while their mouths move on each other. It’s long minutes of heady reunion, and Regulus doesn’t ever want it to stop, but it does. Doesn’t want to go back to talking, but they do. 

Remus pulls away, head dropping so that his face is hidden in the crook of Regulus’s neck and he practically growls. “Fuck. Fuck! We need to talk, we can’t until we.. ugh.” 

Regulus brings his hands up to Remus’s hair, and he soothes his fingers through while Remus continues to mumble. “Thank you. Thank you, darling, for the incredibly thoughtful gift. For the space to sort myself out. For.. coming to me, when you needed somewhere safe. For being here now.” 

“I am. I’m here. I’d like to..stay, in a way.” Regulus admits quietly. 

Remus tips his chin, and they’re at this funny angle where he is enveloping Regulus, bigger than him in every way but looking up at him from his shoulder. “In what way do you want to stay?” 

Regulus picks up the metaphorical glue, and he applies it to that first crack. “I hardly know you, but I like you. I want to know more. I’d like to..date you, do you want to date me?”

It all sounds so.. juvenile. So silly to say out loud. His heart beats faster in his chest when Remus says, “I do. I’d like to date you, Regulus.” 

“Okay. Okay, that’s good. And I.. I want to have sex with you.” 

“I want to have sex with you, as well. But what kind of sex do you want to have with me?” 

Regulus flushes. His skin is overheated and he’s nervous as hell, because he’s never really had to spell it out like this. With past partners, it was either a spur of the moment encounter with no negotiation, or it was people he went to specifically for this. People he wouldn’t ever see again. And with James, it had been.. a natural progression. James had a beautiful habit of spacing things out for him, so they weren’t just.. spilling out formal details all in one go. 

Suffice to say, it takes him a minute to dig the words out, but when he does, they flood out like a river of honesty. “If you’re well, and want it, and are open to it, I-I would like for you to consider training me as your submissive. I would like a chance to earn that relationship with you.. James is the first person who I’ve participated in a bdsm dynamic long term with, because all of my other experiences have been rather.. rushed, and informal. And I didn’t really have to ask him for it. So I.. I don’t know if I’m asking this right. Or, I guess I wasn’t asking, so I’ll ask. Remus Lupin, would you be open to dating me, and to training me as your submissive?” 

Regulus wants to bury his head in the sand and never resurface, now. He is filled to the brim with hot springs of embarrassment and the words just keep flooding out of his mouth , even though he wants so badly to stop saying them, “If not, that’s okay. That’s alright. We could just date, or we could just have that dynamic in the bedroom, or we could just have regular sex and that would be great because well, you’re really fucking hot, and I’m insanely attracted to you, and, and-,” 

Remus’s hand comes up to cover his mouth. Regulus’s eyes widen and snap to his as he sucks in a breath and Remus, he’s.. he’s grinning. Wildly, widely grinning, it’s splitting his face in half, the amount of amusement evident in his tone when he says, “That was so good, darling. You did so well, spelling it all out for me. You want to be my boyfriend, and my submissive?” 

Regulus can’t respond, mouth covered as it is, so he nods. 

“Can you show me with your hands? Tap on my left temple to say that you want to be my submissive in the bedroom. Tap on my right to say you want a full time dynamic. Okay? Left, bedroom only. Right, full time. Go ahead.”

Regulus taps his right temple gently. Three taps for green. 

Remus strokes his cheek, and it feels appreciative. It feels like praise. “Same system. Tap left for no, right for yes. Understand?” Regulus nods. 

“Have you asked James if this is okay with him?” Three taps on the right. 

“Good. I’ve asked Sirius, as well.” Regulus’s eyes widen, and then soften when Remus’s face remains calm and.. happy. 

“I’d like very much to have that with you, Regulus. But we’re not going to play like that again until we sit down and discuss it. Thoroughly, very fucking thoroughly , okay? Because.. I have needs to, and it can’t be like it was the last time again, okay? I understand that you had no way to know it would hurt me for you to leave, I didn’t even really realize it would until you were gone, but.. it’ll have to be different. No running, okay?”

Three taps on the right. A pause. Another three taps. A question. 

Remus removes his hand, lets it slide just to the right to cup his face. “Yes doll?”

“I’m going to say something, and I.. I need you to believe it, because it’s the truth, and I plan on showing it to you, but I don’t want you to hear me say it and worry that I don’t mean it.” He warns Remus, tone stern. 

“...Okay. I’ll try.” 

“If you’re agreeing to this, you need to know that I.. I’ll fall in love with you, Moony. Fast and hard and irrevocably. I can feel it here..” Regulus drags his pointer finger on his chest, over his heart, and then he places that same finger over Remus’s heart and makes the same motion. He imagines there's glue on the tip of it.

Remus looks down at his finger as he digests Regulus’s words. It’s a long moment of contemplation, and then it’s broken by his intense gaze and honest, breathy words when he says, “I would very much like for you to do that, darling.” 

Chapter Text

Their conversations over dinner were significantly less heavy hearted. There were shared looks of affection between all men as they conversed and Regulus settled back in his chair and drank his wine as he watched the closely knit interactions between each of them. How Remus passed Sirius the salt without needing to be asked, how James poured Sirius more wine, how Sirius’s arm lay angled in a way that made Regulus sure he had a hand on Remus’s thigh. 

He’s startled out of his staring when Remus leans back, arm draped over the back of Sirius’s chair. His eyes shoot up to find Remus’s gaze fixed on him, one eyebrow raised curiously. Staring at something? The look asks, and as if a mind reader, Remus glances down at the hand surely in his lap and then back up to Regulus, the hint of a smirk on his face. 

Regulus takes another sip of his wine to excuse the rouge of his cheeks, the lick of his lips. He slides down just an inch, maybe two in his chair, so the side of his sock clad foot slides up next to Remus’s, directly across from him. 

He watches his face intently, the only acknowledgement of his actions the fire being slowly stoked in his eyes as Regulus trails the tips of his toes up the inside of his ankle. 

The way the air heats around them. 

The way his desire starts to burn.

Regulus has always thought himself something of a pyromaniac. 

His foot trails higher, soft brush of fabric that can’t be heard over Sirius and James laughing together at something. When he gently knocks the inside of Remus’s knee, he’s rewarded by the leg he’d been teasing falling gracefully open. Allowing him access. An invitation, maybe, a clear path up to-..

“Isn’t that right, Reggie?” Sirius asks, tone smug, and Regulus’s eyes snap to his brother’s to find him and James locked in some kind of a staring contest, both of them smiling wide. 

“I believe I’ve missed something, Sirius. Isn’t what right?” Regulus rolls his eyes in the direction of the battle of wills to his right. He feels Remus’s leg move to close, but he stops it with a firm press of his toes. Remus’s eyes narrow on him, then glance between the other two men. Regulus only smirks into his glass once more as he waits for his brother to clue him in.

"Que j'étais aussi fringant à la puberté que je le suis maintenant." ("That I was as dashing through puberty as I am now.") Sirius shoots him an amused glance before his eyes return to James. 

Regulus snorts. "Vous avez un ego tellement gonflé.” ("You have such an inflated ego.”) He glances at James out of the corner of his eye while he says, “He was lanky, all legs, and even more of an attention whore then he is now, if you can believe it. Always putting on shows." James turns to grin at him. 

“Hey. Those shows saved your ass more than once.” Sirius gripes, “And the girls loved it.” 

“Is that what got Bella into your bed, Sirius, your dramatics?” Regulus deadpans, challenge in his eyes as he dares raise his toes up higher. They brush the inside of Remus’s thigh, but he doesn’t glance to see the man’s reaction. 

“Careful, petit frère." (little brother.") Sirius warns. 

Regulus finds the zip of Remus’s trousers and follows it up, until his heel is pressed against the firmness straining at the indent of his crotch. “Or what?” Regulus dares with a smirk on his face. 

"Ou j'arrêterai de faire semblant de ne pas remarquer la façon dont tu caresses notre petit ami sous la table." ("Or I'll stop pretending not to notice the way you're fondling our boyfriend under the table.")

The “our” effectively smothers any shame he might’ve felt at being caught. Or maybe it’s the teasing tone, the way Sirius says it in that sultry French that sends sparks through Regulus’s body. That way no one at the table tells him to stop, because he has their permission . 

Well.. not Remus’s. Not to play . But this isn’t that kind of playing, is it, it’s just.. playful. Playing. 

Regulus presses his heel more firmly against the bulge in Remus’s pants and watches as he tips his head to the side, a lazy grin on his face as he watches the two brother’s back and forth. 

James, at his side, pulls his chair closer. It’s not enough to dislodge his foot from Remus’s lap, small as the table is, but it gives James access to squeeze his knee. The contact makes him shiver, and he bites his lip when his boyfriend leans down to whisper in his ear, “Are his dramatics what got you into his bed, pretty thing?”  

Regulus meets his eyes with his own eyes wide, feigning innocence when he says, “He got into mine actually. And I do love a show.” 

A hand comes down on his foot, fingers too long and graceful to be Remus’s, and he’s holding Sirius’s shoulder and a wine glass in the other, anyway. They trace the inseam of his arch before they wrap around the middle, guiding his foot to rub. He hears Remus’s sharp intake of air, but he can’t look, captured by James’s gaze. 

“Would you like to be in one as well?” James asks under his breath. 

“That’s Sirius’s specialty.” He whispers back. 

“Your brother is quite a star. But I happen to know just how beautifully you sound when someone makes you sing..” Those fingers trail up from his knee, and Regulus has to set his wine glass down or risk spilling it as they reach the same area on him that he is now being used to tease on Remus. 

“What kind of show would you like to put on, Jamie?” 

He’s surely on fire now. Watchful gazes on him, being teased, someone’s stoked the fireplace with logs and set them up just right to burn through the night. To keep the room hot and heavy, to make their skin sweaty. He sits and basks in the glow of it, mesmerized by the spark in James’s eyes as he plots .

Regulus knows that look well. The switch of it, from careful flirting to the forming of plans that will see him tortured. Oh, how this sadistic man likes to dangle him over hot coals, cook him slowly, make him beg for relief from the flames. Regulus loves it. 

“Moony,” James says without looking away from him, “Would you like to hear Reggie here sing ?” 

“Mm, very much so,” Remus drawls, and Regulus feels his cock jump under the heel of his foot. 

“Pads, you can be a good boy and take care of our Moony while he sits back and enjoys the show can’t you?”

“Happily, Prongs.” Regulus can hear the grin in his brother’s tone. 

He’s shaking with anticipation as James lifts him out of his seat. Easily, as if he weighs as much as a feather. It dislodges his foot from the warmth it was being pressed against, but Regulus doesn’t have time to mourn the contact. 

He’s set in his boyfriend’s lap, facing Remus and Sirius, and James scoots their now shared chair back far enough that he knows the two men can see where he is unzipping Regulus’s fly and pulling him out of his pants unabashedly. 

James’s ankles hook around his, and they pull him open. He is splayed wide, leaned back against James’s firm chest, arms draped lazily to the sides until James says sternly, “Hands up around my neck, pretty thing. If you let go, I’m going to work you open and fuck you right here at the table.” 

Regulus’s pulse jumps. His prick throbs. He’s got his bottom lip bitten and it is heady, the way Remus stares at him. He’s drunk off of his watchful eyes. 

He can tell that Sirius is working on opening their zippers as well, though he can’t see it from the slouched angle he’s held at. 

He lifts his fingers, dragging them over his own chest and brushing his nipples before following the curve of his neck up until the tips find James’s, sliding up from below his ears and around into the back of his hair. He twists the hair there around his fingers, grip firm, and James praises him with a hand coming down to wrap around his length. 

Remus takes another sip of his wine, seemingly unaffected, but Regulus can read from the way his jaw tenses, the pleasure that Sirius hand is giving as he watches James prep and tease him. 

James’s hand lifts away just as soon as it’s touched him, and Regulus knows the ache his boyfriend aims to create in him. The one that makes him sound all girly when he cries for relief. “Remus,” Regulus purrs, “You’re going to let him do this to me?” 

He asks it like a question. 

He asks it, as if Remus has any authority over the game James has decided to play. 

He asks it, to establish that he does .

To reiterate the power James knowingly handed over when he asked before if this is what Remus wants . When he asked if he’d like it . 

To point out that while James is the wood and Sirius the fire, Regulus the willing sacrifice, Remus is the coals that are necessary for him to burn . 

The grin that he gets in return is salacious. Sadistic. It is all too fucking satisfied. “I am.” 

It’s a match lit and thrown. 

James takes no mercy in the slow, teasing strokes of his hand. He pulls none of the punches in the words he coos openly to the table. 

“Aren’t you just the easiest little actress? Quick to drip while they watch you.” James spreads the slick drops of fluid around the head of his prick, making his hips stutter. 

“Obediently moving when I pull your strings.” Regulus’s fingers tighten in James’s hair when he cups and squeezes his balls. 

“My lap might as well be a Broadway stage, baby, you were made for this weren’t you? Wasn’t he, gentlemen?” 

“Fuck, yes.” Remus grits out. Sirius’s mouth is too busy for words now, slipped under the table as he has but Regulus hears his hum of agreement. 

“Made to be seen. I mean, look at you, huh? That’s it, drool for me.” He hadn’t even noticed the way his mouth hung open until James was stuffing two fingers into it. They slide against his tongue to the very back and Regulus lets them choke him. He lets them bring tears to his eyes.

“Mmmf..” He grunts around them when James picks up speed around his prick, bringing him right to the edge before he stops. And he thinks he’s the mean one? He has nothing on James when he’s like this. 

“Ah. Ah. Ah. You didn’t think I’d let you come before Moony does, did you? Remus love, are you close?” 

Regulus shoots a needy look his way. One that pleads. One that begs for mercy. 

“Not nearly.” He grins. Evil, all of the men around Regulus are evil. He hates them. He loves them.

James starts up again, slow as he was at the start, until Regulus is squirming in his lap. His fingers tense and struggle where they’re twisted in James’s hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

He can hear the wet suction of his brother’s mouth below the table. Can here slap of skin, too, that isn’t due to the hand that’s on his length. All of it over the rush of blood in ears. 

Remus groans, and Regulus watches the way the veins in his arms jut out when he clenches his hand, presumably in Sirius’s hair. Sirius whines in response. The sound is a sweet sizzle, tiny sparks on the rigid twists of a rope and Regulus is the bomb that the fire races towards.

James speeds up again. The room carries the rising sounds of pain and need and desperation as Regulus gets close, only to feel that torturous squeeze at his base that stifles his crescendo like cooled waters. 

“Fu-uhh-,” He growls around those fingers in his mouth. There’s a quick press of them against the back of his throat as James tsks. 

“So ungrateful. I’m taking my time to wind you up real nice, Remus was good enough to make you dinner first and you can’t even show the patience in gaining your gratification that we deserve for our efforts?” 

“‘m sh-owry..” Regulus slurs, because his mouth is too full to sound the words out proper. It earns him a slap to the balls. 

“Try again.” James demands, and it’s so cruel. He knows Regulus can’t say them, he is quite literally killing the words dead with the pressure he has on his tongue, but James works him up enough to try again.

“I-,” He gets out well enough. 

“Ah..mmm..” Sounds more like two words, but James lets it slide. 

“Sss.. sh, -orry.” He botches the S so heavily that James’s hand slips off of his cock on the upstroke, back down harshly in a way that pulls at his skin, and it startles him bad enough that his fingers slip. 

They pull, and Regulus is achy and desperate enough that instead of resealing their purchase in his hair, he lets them fall away. When the last of the strands have slipped from between his fingers and his arms have come down, he hears Remus hiss. 

“Oh pet. Do you give up that easily when I’m not here?” 

James’s slick fingers slip out from his mouth and he whimpers. “No.” 

Remus doesn’t look disappointed in him though. He looks pleased. 

Regulus is shoved forward over the table, a clattering of dishware moved hastily to the side and then his pants are being pulled down his thighs and off by the ankles, his legs spread. With his head pressed down and turned to the side he is, he can’t see it, but he can hear the very same sounds coming from across the table. 

Fabric jostling, Sirius’s huff as he’s pulled away from the cock he was so dutifully swallowing and up. His brother’s face lands next to his, there’s mouths inches away. 

The same glossy eyed expression that he’s sure he’s wearing is echoed back to him in his brother's face. It’s almost eerie, like looking in a carnival fun-mirror. 

Your reflection but distinct differences that make you question your own perception, your own sanity. Where he is dainty and smooth, Sirius is sharp and hardened, their eyes two different colors, but if you shined a flashlight at them you might mistake the silver for blue, or blue for silver. Same cool heat, the burn of stars. 

If you squinted, you could pretend well enough that they were twins, from the face up. Twins that kiss with tongue, because their lips come together greedily and they swallow each other down, swapping spit, the flavor of wine bold between them. Like your forty pages deep on your favorite porn website and you’ve finally gotten into the homemade stuff. “Dad and Dad’s friend share sons for dinner” or some shit. Camera angles wonky, some very close up point of view. Labeled “Real”. 

James’s fingers are wet enough to finger him open with relative ease, but Remus must’ve forgone that preparation because Sirius is wincing and whimpering into Regulus’s mouth like whatever is happening to him hurts and Regulus can’t help but hump the fucking table because of it. 

It’s so fair, where Regulus was hurting before and now preening under soft attention, Sirius was being praised for his gifts and now hurts in the sweetest of ways. It’s so hot, the way he arches back for more of it. 

Regulus’s hands aren’t free, they’re held behind his back with one hand while James lines himself up with the other and presses in, filling up that empty space that ached for something large. 

Sirius’s hands are free. One of them is lodged underneath, and the pant of his breath makes Regulus think he’s being allowed to jack himself off. The other was gripping at the table, but it couldn’t find a purchase, so it comes up to Regulus’s hair and cements their faces together. 

“That’s it, fuck, darling, you’re so fucking tight.” Remus groans. 

The motions of the men at both ends thrusts their faces together and Regulus can taste blood now from where teeth have clashed and tongues have gotten caught but he doesn’t care. He wants it to ignite them further, he wants to let the fire roar. 

*

It is decidely one of the hottest things he’s ever seen; two brothers bent over his dining room table and lips locked while they both get fucked into by men who love them. Remus holds his shirt up with one hand and uses the other to keep Sirius steady with a grip on his hip while he thrusts into him, a dry slide of skin that he can imagine burns like hell but his boyfriend doesn’t complain. 

He takes it so well. 

Wont ever admit to it, but loves when it hurts him, because he knows Remus will soothe the chafe with his tongue later. 

He isn’t the slightest bit regretful of indulging James. He’d worried, for a moment, because he had told Regulus in a very no nonsense tone that they needed to talk, to negotiate and discuss before they played, but then the man’s foot was working its way up his leg and he couldn’t help the way he opened up for him. 

He’d wanted to do so further, to see what the smaller boy would do with all that unmitigated access. He pictured briefly, Regulus’s small frame between his own, larger legs, not being fucked into, but rutting his hips forward , instead. He surprised himself by wanting that. And Regulus had looked so smug, sitting there hiding behind his wine glass as if he was getting away with a petty crime underneath the table. 

As if Sirius’s hand couldn’t feel the pull of the fabric of his pants. Hadn’t squeezed Remus’s thigh in response to it. As if he hadn’t slid those slim, ring clad fingers over and poked the sensitive, ticklish point between the skin of his leg and the base of his cock and prompted him to let his ankle twist and fall for his little brother’s advances. 

Silly boy in a silly playful mood and Remus reasoned with himself that’s what it was. A silly playful mood, not play, Remus wasn’t running a scene here, but he could play a game. Had heard the giddy edge to Sirius’s voice when he addressed Regulus to say “Our boyfriend”. 

His heart had fluttered wildly . 

And then James had practically dared him. Had said, unspoken, “this is what I want to do, do you want it to? It’s up to you.” And Remus could feel it the moment the metaphorical reigns were passed to him, so he took them up and decided he would happily oblige the horny party gracing the dinner table around him. 

He decided this, because he was being invited to participate, and Regulus’s eyes were screaming at him that he wanted him to. And Remus wanted to. So he did, and he could die like this, finding pleasure in the tight, wet heat of Sirius’s ass while he watched James do the same with Regulus. 

James, who was fucking glowing like this. Sweat shined and confident in his mannerisms, sure in his words, all too quick witted and knowing exactly what to say to press Regulus’s buttons. He's sunshine, hot heat on your face, reddening the skin and Remus leans into it because he never minded a tan. 

He has a strong arm holding Regulus in place, and over top the skinny man he looks huge, he looks like the epitome of a greek god, soft brown skin and wavy hair that hangs over his face, shielding his eyes. His grunts spur Remus on, make him thrust faster, and it drags solid moans from the beautiful piece under him. 

Remus watches the way his jaw clenches, the way he holds himself together while he moves his hips, not a rhythmless hump but a myriad of circles and letters, spelling something out, Remus thinks, while he works himself up to the point of ecstacy using his pretty little toy to do so. 

The table is small enough that when Remus leans himself over Sirius’s body, he can feel the warm pant of James’s breath on his cheek. He wants to taste it, and as he thinks back to their conversation in the kitchen.. he thinks, mostly confident, that James will let him. So he lets go of his shirt and he reaches his arm around James’s shoulder, pulling him in by the nape of his neck and kissing him. 

James groans into his mouth with a fervor. Same chocolate-cake appreciation he’d gotten the first time he ever did it. It's glorious. It's a blessing. It's something heaven sent that Remus is going to cherish, is going to worship, is going to demand more of. 

James lets him. Lets himself be dragged closer and then he is letting go of Regulus underneath him in favor of gripping Remus’s shirt and tugging him closer, harder, tongue insistent on his lips. He tastes like sharp spice and wine and rich, rich fucking caramel for the way pleasure slowly falls from his mouth into Remus’s. 

Remus never wants to stop fucking kissing him, but he's close. So close. He can feel Sirius’s hand furiously jostling his hips and then the tight tensing of his muscles that milks at his cock and it's his undoing. Sounds ripped from his throat are stifled in James’s mouth and James eats them up, losing that careful rhythm to buck wildly. 

Their sounds mingle as he finds his release, too. Their lips disconnect, but Remus keeps his grip on the back of James’s neck as he makes their foreheads meet. Motion slows, stops, the air cools, but Sirius and Regulus still kiss underneath them, and both he and James are looking down to watch Regulus humping the table frantically. 

Sirius is biting and nipping at his mouth incessantly because Regulus’s is hanging open, stuck in an “O” as he tries desperately to reach his relief from where he is being smothered by the heavy weight of James’s body. 

James is grinning, a sick sadistic twist of his lips as he watches his boyfriend struggle, and it makes Remus’s softening prick try to rally all over again. James, who is so nice and so kind-hearted, who is so optimistic and sunshiney, is positively feral underneath the boy-next-door exterior and Remus has the intense urge to force it out of him. Aim it at himself. Fuck him tame.

He wonders if James would let him. Knows now that he can ask. And anyway, he thinks he already knows the answer. The man had, after all, offered Remus anything at all that he wanted from him on a dimly lit dance floor before they’d ever been anything past platonic with each other. James had been downright eager in his expression of want and Remus knew now what he wished he knew then.. that it wasn’t for a desire for Sirius, or the drinks they’d consumed, but because he’d meant it . 

He watches James until he hears those tell-tale wines, those pretty cries, and he looks down just in time to see the rapture on Regulus’s-, on his boyfriend’s face. The way the come bleeds all of the tension from his body, makes him go lax and pliant against the table. 

Smile wide and pleased, looking all cock stupid when James lets go of Remus and Remus lets go of him, and James pulls Regulus up and back into his lap, still sheathed inside of him, to kiss and kitten lick the expression on his face.

Remus smiles as Regulus’s eyes find him. Glassy, clear and pretty. Shiny sun and this liquid clear ocean he holds. He pulls Sirius up, rights his clothes for him, sets him in his own chair with a soft kiss on his forehead before sitting back in his and stuffing himself away. 

Sirius leans against his side, wrapped up under the tuck of Remus’s arm and nuzzles into him, the motion full of appreciation and sedation. Eventually, they even eat dessert like this. Sirius gets up to get it, comes back to that same spot after he’s served the custard and the berries, and they’ve all lapsed into soft voices and easy conversation. 

Regulus calls him a couple of sweet names. Defers to him in conversation almost as much as he does James, but easier, like he has no doubt that Remus will be able to pick up where he left off, and he does so with pride. James pets his hair, smooths it where it flies out from behind his ears. 

When they move to the lounge, they switch partners. All four of them share the couch, James and Remus' sides pressed together while Sirius nuzzles into James from his side and Regulus curls into a ball on Remus’s lap. It's warm, being smothered in so many people’s heat, but Remus doesn’t feel the ants. Doesn’t feel the panic. Doesn’t feel the worry. He feels.. safe. Safe, and loved. 

*

He hears James’s voice, first. The soft, smooth consideration of it, presumably not to wake Regulus up but he is now, and sue him for wanting to hear the love being spread around him. 

“He wants us all to be.. boyfriends.” 

“Mmm. So does Sirius, now that he’s accepted that this is.. happening. That he and Reg can.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Yeah, Jamie. It’s been what I wanted.” 

“You just didn’t think any of us did.” James’s tone is incredulous. It’s not judgemental, his Jamie hardly is, but the point is made all the same. 

“Essentially,” Remus breathes out and it tickles him. His voice is close to Regulus’s ear because he’s got his head laying in the crook of the man’s neck. 

“I promised him, you know. Probably before I should’ve but that day before we all went out.. I was just so excited about all of the possibilities, and he was so dissapointed by Sirius telling him they should just be brothers or something , I couldn’t stand it.” 

“What did you promise him?” Remus asks curiously. 

“That I would give him this little family. That I wanted him to have it. To have everything.” 

“He still doesn’t think he deserves it, you know.” Remus sighs, and his tone is disappointed this time. So at odds with the praise Regulus got all through dinner. 

“I know. But he wants it, and I think that’s enough to keep him going until we convince him that he does.” 

“Mm..” 

“He asked to be your submissive, too?”

“He did. He said he asked you, but you know I have to..” 

“I know. He did, I told him yes. Enthusiastically, yes, Moons.” 

“Good, that’s.. yeah, I’m happy about it.” 

“Will you collar him?” James asks quietly. Regulus does his fucking best not to stiffen, because he wants so desperately to know the answer, but he hadn’t had it in him to ask earlier. He waits, tries to be patient, tries not to flinch when Remus’s hand comes up to his hair and strokes down his neck and along his spine. 

“Not if the cheeky little minx doesn’t stop eavesdropping on conversations, I won’t.” 

Regulus bites his lip, turning his flushed face up and forcing the smallest, shyest smile he can. “Hi,” He breathes. 

“Hi, darling.” Remus smiles down at him. Regulus leans up to give him a kiss, then looks around to find James at his side and shoots him a frown. 

“What, no hello for me?” 

“No. No kiss either, you’re so mean to me .”

“Oooh, is that a grudge I hear, pretty thing?” James laughs. 

“Yes.” Regulus pouts, but he doesn’t stop James when he reaches over and pulls him into his lap for a kiss. 

“Cute. So fucking cute. Love you, baby.” 

“Yeah, well I hate you.” 

James is still, infuriatingly, all laughs. 

“You don’t hate me, you just hate when I don’t give you orgasms. But you still had one, didnt you, hmm?” 

“That is not the point Jamie.” 

“Yes it is.” James nuzzles into his neck. 

Regulus takes in the fond look on Remus’s face before he asks, “Where’s my brother?” 

“In bed. Didn’t want to wake you by moving. James stayed to talk.” Remus squeezes Regulus’s arm. “Are you two staying?” 

Regulus looks to James, and James looks to Regulus. “Are we, baby?” 

“Can we?” Regulus asks Remus shyly. 

“I would like for you to. There’s something I want to tell you, though.”

James and Regulus both wait for him to continue. Something like unease tries to slither up from his stomach, but he doesn’t let it clog his throat. Still, it’s scary when he hears the words, “I’ve asked Sirius to move in with me.” force themselves out of Remus’s soft mouth. 

“Oh..” Regulus mumbles. The sound is sad, because.. is that why Remus could agree to all of this? Is he staking a claim on Sirius by-..

“I want to ask you two the same thing. Will you move in with me?” 

Oh.

“It doesn’t have to be all at once,” Remus continues on, “Or now, presently. But James, Sirius and I have been in each other’s lives, and often in each other’s beds for many years. And Regulus, you feel.. like a permanent fixture, however new the addition you are. So it seems right and I would.. appreciate having you all near, to come home to. So there’s less wondering who is going to end up where and with whom, at night. Instead, none of you will be far away and it can happen naturally while not leaving anyone.. out.” 

Regulus could cry with happy tears at the way Remus professes his want for nearness. He feels like he is basking in cool moonlight, a salve on his previously overheated skin, and he finds himself for the first time ever keenly wanting to live in the night, if only to never lose the moon's touch. 

“You live in a one bedroom,” James deadpans humorously.

“Yes, well, we’d all have to find and agree on a place, obviously. We all have income, it’s not like we’re lacking the funds to do so.” 

“You want us all to.. find a house, together.” Regulus covers his mouth, hides the grin with the palm of his hand. 

Remus nods stiffly, “If you all are agreeable.” 

Regulus can feel James chuckling under him, he knows his boyfriend’s answer, and without a thought he carelessly flings himself back into Remus’s arms. “I hate you for making me panic just then, seriously, but I love this idea, I love-.. Yes. Yes, please. That would be great.” 

Remus laughs. Throatily, without restraint, as if Regulus is a child who just exploded with glee and well, he feels like he is right this second. He’s looking at Remus, not like he hung the moon but like he is and he is so, so full of that light right now. Pulled in by gravity he sways nearer, and nearer, until a couple of worries weigh him down before he can touch the shiny surface. “We have a.. we adopted that cat. Bambi. Is that going to be okay?” 

“Yes, It’s fine. I’m particular about things, but I’m not a monster.” 

Regulus blushes. “Okay. Oui , perfect.” 

“I’ll have to tell my parents they can sell the flat.” James works through the technicalities next to them while Remus and Regulus just sit, silent and close, and smile at each other. 

“Bed?” Remus rumbles next to his ear as James is rambling through the boring details. Regulus yawns, and agrees with a nod. But before they can move, he gasps. 

“Reg?”

“Darling? What is it?” 

Regulus lets his eyes go wide. He looks around, as if in search of some grand answer to a problem he’s just thought up, really drawing out the emotional tension of the moment. He looks to James, wonders if he can see the mischief behind the worried facade, and then he turns his full, startled gaze on Remus. He lowers his voice to share secrets between them, pulls out a metaphorical match and strikes it against the cardboard box, all intentions of lighting things aflame when he whispers, “You know Sirius smokes, right?” 

James, next to him, bursts out laughing. Remus looks very much like he wants to do the same, but his lips pulls up in this slow smirk as he silently contemplates his options. Because of course he knows, Regulus doesn’t think for one second that Remus is aloof enough to not notice when and why Sirius smells even more like peppermint than usual. 

“Oh, you little troublemaker,” Remus purrs. It's exasperated. It's fond. It's warm, red coals, simmering on low underneath a man very eager to let the heat consume him.   

Chapter Text

Regulus goes to work for the first time in a week, alone, on Monday morning. He hadn’t really expected to, if he’s being honest with himself, but here he is, waltzing in the doors at 8:55am without James Potter following behind like a keen little puppy. It’s lonely, he’ll admit, now that he’d had his company to keep him entertained throughout his shifts. 

Suffice to say he’s planning his evening pout in his head, the extensive guilt trip he’s going to pull on his trust fund baby boyfriend for following Sirius to work at the shelter today instead, as if they haven’t had eight years together for James to spend surrounded by the scent of desperation.. and the dogs. He’s not really mad about it, but he wants to see James’s face, wants to see how easy it will be to make him think that he is. Is curious, what his boyfriend might offer up as a peace offering. And while he’s not actually mad, the absence of his sunshiney boyfriend does have him admittedly in a mood. 

A mood that is made considerably worse by the way the front register is currently in fucking pieces, as if they don’t use the thing daily to track sales. It’s been on the fritz for years, but Mary is always giving him excuses as to why they’ve not gotten it fixed. Now, though, seeing the day ahead as going to be a definitively larger nuisance than the thing freezing up constantly would usually be, he’s regretting those complaints.

You’d think, with the childhood he had, Regulus Black would’ve learned to keep his mouth shut . 

Instead, he blurts out, “Oh what the fuck.” on the tale end of a groan, and it startles the man he hadn’t seen crouching under the counter.

 “Shit.” The man gripes, rubbing his forehead where he’s hit it as he stands up. He’s tall, Regulus notes, maybe as tall as Sirius even. He has black hair, cropped short at the sides and long and greased back at the top, which elongates the oval of his face. 

“Sorry. I thought the door was locked, and I didn’t hear you come in.” The man notes in a slower drawl as he looks over, beady eyes that take him in as Regulus dawns his apron for the day, pulling the straps of it around the front to tie it. 

“I have a key.” Regulus points out in a bored tone, “How long will this take? We open in five.” 

“As I’ve already explained to Ms. Mcdonald, you’ve got a fairly old machine here, and the error codes have been messed up from the amount of times they’ve been ignored and reset. It’ll take at least a week to figure out what’s actually wrong with it, and then longer to order in the parts because there’s only a couple of manufacturers who still make and sell them.” 

“Would it not be easier to just scrap the thing and get a new one?” Regulus complains, already dreading the possible weeks of paper sales ahead.

“It would,” Mary sing-songs as she emerges from the back room, patting a gloved hand on top of the monitor. “But this thing was my fathers, when he ran the shop. It’s a classic, and it’s imperative for the ambience of the store. I’m not giving it up just because you think it would be easier to get an apple product.”

“The ambience of the store is gardening, Mary, no one cares whether we have a register so old that it practically predates the first desktop computer.” 

“Well I care. And it’s staying. So you and Tobias here make friends, because you’ll be in close proximity for the foreseeable future. If he’s mean to you Toby, you tell me and I’ll threaten him, okay?”

The man, Tobias, looks between him and Mary before he drawls, “I’m sure I can handle him, Ms. Mcdonald. And please, it’s Tobias. Not Toby.” 

Mary scoffs. “Honestly, you too are so similar, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the first person I’ve seen him actually get along with.” 

“Doubtful.” Regulus mutters under his breath as he searches for the pesky sales day book under the other side of the counter. 

Tobias grunts in acknowledgement. 

He’s right, it is a dreadful day. It picks at his nerves when the shop is filled, because he has to write down the sales so fast that they’re scribbly, the pages messy with his tally’s and his numbers, so at odds with his normally meticulous script. By lunch, he’s sure Mary is out to get him with this whole register thing, because Tobias won’t stop with the little digs at the things already setting him off. 

“You’ve inverted the quantity and price on that one,” He points out after a quick glance down at his sheet. He’s sitting next to Regulus at the counter, fiddling with some carriage of wires.

“Thanks.” Regulus begrudgingly nods. 

“Did you mean to write that sale down twice?” His tone is.. playful. One eyebrow up like he’s teasing. It pisses Regulus off. 

“Yes, actually.” He says. He didn’t, but he scratches out the first line as if it just didn’t meet his standards, even though his R’s were arguably nicer. 

Regulus notes idly the closeness of their feet. It's a nasty little point of contact that, paired with the nosiness of this man, has him shuffling over. 

“You're french?” Tobias questions when he writes half a page in his native language by accident. 

“ Merde,” Regulus mutters under his breath and then shoots Tobias a glare, “What gave it away, the accent, the french flag pin on my bag, or the language I’ve just written down?” 

Tobias is unflustered by his aggression. “I hadn’t noticed the accent, what with the lack of emotion in your voice until now.” He smirks at Regulus. Fucking smirks.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on fixing that god forsaken thing? Leave me alone." 

The man's eyebrows jump, a subtle look of impressiveness. "I can multitask." He shrugs.

Regulus can too. So he rewrites his French in English while thinking of all of the sharp, available tools in the back that he might have to use to maim or bludgeon this annoying stranger with before even this week with him is up. 

He also plots Mary's death, because this and her father's old ass machine are the cause of his pension for bloodshed. As if Monday's aren't already bad enough. Maybe this is payback for bringing James here all of last week.. 

He texts James at lunch. 

12:01pm, Regulus: Is it still premeditated murder if I’ve only planned it the day I commit it?

12:03pm, James: um.. who r we killing baby? 

12:05pm, Regulus: This guy who's fixing the register. He’s so annoying!! I’m stuck with him for weeks, Jamie!! I won’t survive. 

12:06pm, James: don’t kill him, yea? or urself. I can't introduce u to my parents if ur in jail.. or a ghost 

12:07pm, Regulus: YOUR PARENTS?! (Marked: read)

Regulus is distracted from the annoyances of work for the rest of the day. Anxious, he goes through the motions of sales, of flatly replying to anything tech-guy might say, hardly hears a word Mary speaks to him before he’s out the door at 5pm and driving to his boyfriend, and his apartment. 

His brain plays a loop of James’s last text, panic gripping hold of his heart and squeezing because he’s barely had a boyfriend before. He’s certainly never had three of them. And now one of them is talking about him meeting his parents and Regulus doesn’t have the best track record with any of those. 

He lets himself into the apartment, breathing in for seven seconds and out for four even though it makes him feel dizzy, because he thinks he’ll forget how to breathe at all now that the distraction of his work day is over. 

He finds Sirius and Remus in the lounge. “Reg?” Sirius says, brows furrowed when he drops his bag by the coffee table and passes by them without saying hi. 

“Darling?” He hears Remus call in a concerned tone after him, but he ignores them both to find James. He’s in the kitchen, dancing around to some song Regulus briefly registers as ABBA. 

“Tell me you’re not surprising me with an impromptu meeting with your parents, because if you don’t I won't even have the chance to get myself sent to prison, I’ll simply die right here in front of you and Je jure devant dieu Jamie que je vais le rendre si salissant que tu ne pourras jamais me nettoyer de ces carreaux ! (I swear to god Jamie I will make it so messy that you’ll never be able to clean me off these tiles!”)

“Woah, woah, Reggie baby, breathe.” James chuckles, holding his hands up in the air like Regulus has just threatened him with a knife. Maybe he should, maybe that will get his boyfriend to take his panic seriously. 

“Say it. Jamie.” Regulus growls. 

“I’m not surprising you with an impromptu meeting with my parents.” James repeats his words as he steps cautiously closer. 

“I don’t believe you,” He grits out. Even to his own ears, it sounds callous. 

James’s arms slowly circle his waist and pull him close. His boyfriend leans down, nuzzles at the side of his head and truly, it is in his favor that Regulus doesn’t actually have a weapon on him. 

“I’m not. I am not surprising you with my parents. I am asking, very gently, with no amount of pressure whatsoever, if you would like to meet them this weekend, because they’ll be in town.” 

Regulus finds his breath, sees it hiding behind the calm of his boyfriend's voice in his ear and so he grasps at it. Draws it in, sucks it down, lets it calm the shaking. “That wasn’t a question, James.” 

James laughs again, a soft, fond sound. “Would you like to meet my parents, baby?”

“No.” Regulus answers immediately, more reflex than anything. 

James stiffens a little, but he’s still gentle when he asks, “And why not?” 

“I’ve never.. met somebody’s parents before.” He answers honestly, although omitting the more intrusive fears that fuel the refusal. 

“Well, you’ve gotten through a lot of firsts with me before, haven’t you? What makes this one any different?” 

“I don’t know, James.. I mean, the last time you tried to have me meet someone new, it was my brother and look at the chaos that came after.” 

“Are you insinuating that my parents could be your long lost relatives?” He can hear the infuriating smile on James’s face as he breaks down Regulus’s excuses. 

“No. No, I just mean, that didn’t go so well, and I know I promised you I’d try to do this whole boyfriend thing right but, isn’t this just too soon?” 

“Okay, sure, “meeting” Pads and Moony didn’t go well at first, but it’s getting there isn’t it? It’s been.. good? Yeah? And anyway, you’ve moved in with me, Reggie. We’re about to move together into a new place. Is it really too soon when things are so.. serious?” 

Regulus shuffles where he stands, encompassed in James’s arms. “What if they don’t like me?” 

James pulls back to look him in the eyes, sincerity coloring his words as he says, “They’ll love you, because I love you.” 

“And they already love me, so you’ve got an in by default. Since you’re my blood and all.” Sirius chimes in from behind them as he walks into the kitchen. 

Regulus rolls his eyes. “You’ve met them?” 

“Of course I have. Euphemia’s a gem, so sweet and loving but a total badass so, don’t get on her bad side. Fleamont’s quiet, but he’s got an endless supply of jokes and he’s, like, a doctor.” 

“A professor.” James corrects with a laugh. 

“Who they call doctor.” Sirius points out, “Dr. Potter. And what a hunk too,” he sighs dreamily. 

James shakes his head. “Sirius, please.” 

“Hey, you can’t blame me for thinking the apple falls from a very, very sturdy tree.” Regulus can hear the lopsided grin on his brother’s face even though he hasn’t turned around. 

“I think you just have a thing for beefy book nerds, Pads.” James jokes. 

“And tiny ones.” Regulus feels an arm come around his shoulder from behind, the familiar baritone of Remus’s voice as he makes the comment before kissing the side of his head in greeting. 

“And beefy guys who aren’t book nerds.” Regulus pokes fun at James, feeling lightened by the rapidly shifting subject away from him meeting the parents. Or so he hopes. 

“And anyway, they’ll want to meet the man I’m buying a whole house for.” James notes easily, and Regulus scoffs, his hopes crushed. 

“You’re not buying a whole house, we’re all splitting it. And anyway, you’re like, nearly thirty, and filthy rich, you could buy like ten houses and your parents might not even notice.” 

James kisses him lightly before pulling away. “Touche. But.. I want them to meet you. No pressure Reggie, but I’d like it if you did.” 

“There’s always another time, if you don’t.” Remus adds quietly, arm still around him. 

Sirius comes around to his other side, slipping his arm around his waist where James’s arms had been. Regulus leans into it, inhaling and letting the warmth around him settle his nerves. He sighs, tone resigned when he asks, “Can I think about it?” 

He knows he’s going to give in, going to agree. The smile James flashes at him is sunshiney. He knows it, too. Regulus nods at him and bites his lip. Remus lets him go after a squeeze, moving to stand by James and take up a quiet conversation with him. Sirius dips his neck and kisses him on the cheek.

“You’ll be okay, Reg. Honest. They’re great people.” 

“It’s not their character I’m worried about..” Regulus mutters softly as James follows Remus towards the lounge with a nod as they pass by. 

“What is it then?” His brother asks, just as quiet. 

“Mine..” Regulus admits, looking up to find his brother’s soft eyes on him. 

“You’re a prickly son of bitch, Reg, but you’re not a bad person.” 

“I was genuinely considering killing a stranger today.” Regulus deadpans, thinking about the thorn in his side, literally, that he’ll have at work for a while. 

“I do that on a daily basis.” Sirius shrugs, eyebrow up like he’s unimpressed.

I have actually killed someone. I’m a murderer. He thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he playfully admits, “I was thinking about stabbing James when I came in. Pictured a knife to his throat and everything.” 

This doesn’t get the reaction he expected, but it gets a better one. One that steers his mind away from petty annoyances or rapidly approaching stresses, distracting him with fun . 

Sirius turns them subtly, so that his lower back is pressed up against the counter. He dips his head low, voice hoarse in his ear when he asks, “Which knife, baby?” 

“What?” Regulus breathes out in confusion as Sirius’s body pressed against his own. 

“Which knife did you picture, when you thought about holding one to his throat?” His brother releases his waist in favor of leaning his palms flat against the counter behind him. 

“Um..”

“Something serrated?” Sirius taunts, “No, not precise enough for you... a chef’s knife, maybe? Taunt him with something he uses everyday? But then, it’s a little too big to hold to his throat and be able to control it.” He shakes his head, nosing under his ear before dragging the edge of his tongue up, up, up, along the cartilage.  

Regulus shivers when Sirius continues in that quiet, steamy voice of his, "Non .. mon petit frère, il voudrait quelque chose de pointu et de docile, quelque chose qui tiendrait dans la paume de sa main.." (“No.. my baby brother, he’d want something sharp and docile , something that would fit in the palm of his hand..”)

He hears Sirius’s hand slip across the counter, rings dragging towards the wall that’s lined with magnetic strips. "Like a paring knife?" Regulus whispers.

Sharp metallic drags, comes down to the countertop and then slides, ever so slowly back towards them. Regulus is still as the dig of a blade follows the line of his side from his hip to just under his belly button and glides up.

The blade leaves him as Sirius gently opens up Regulus's fingers, the ones that have clenched around the front of his shirt, and presses the handle of a weapon into them. 

"Like a paring knife." Sirius breathes. 

Regulus glances down at the sharp object now in his hand, and then back up to Sirius who is staring at him, heat in his eyes and a smug little smirk on his face. 

"Siri.." His name slips out cautiously. 

"Show me where you'd put it, Reggie." Sirius dares him. Oh, he plays so unfairly, all manner of games that Regulus doesn't see coming, didn't know he ached to play, or could be good at until his brother is pulling the role out of him through the cracks in his mask. 

"If I were going to kill you?" Regulus hums back, thoughtfully. His hand bounces minutely, testing the weight and length of the blade before he'd dare point it at his brother's fragile skin.

"Oui ." 

Sirius is asking for a glimpse at the patient evil that he hides, and Regulus in this moment finds himself all too eager to give it to him. He angles the point towards his sternum, just close enough to catch the fabric of his gray t-shirt as he drags it leisurely up. "You'll have to hold very still, Mon Doudou (My favorite toy), lest I break you." 

"There are worse ways to go." Sirius says, sounding suddenly breathless as Regulus follows the trail of his throat, up over his Adam's apple, stopping with the edge indenting the skin just under his chin.

"I won't play if you can't behave." Regulus admonishes, wrapping his self control like boxer's gloves around his steady hand. 

Sirius bites his lip, watching his face as Regulus follows the trail of the knife with his eyes as he drags it around to the side of his throat, pressing briefly. It draws little droplets of barely there blood, no worse than a cat scratch. 

Sirius tips his head just barely to the side, exposing the arteries that stand out along his pale skin. There’s a tattoo, roman numerals over where he lets the tip of the blade rest. Overtop the internal carotid artery, harder for him to just accidentally nick than the outer artery would be, but still he warns, “If you move, or if you make me slip and cut you here..” 

“What? What would happen?” Sirius asks, voice gruff. Regulus can feel him straining in his pants where he’s pressed against his stomach. 

“You’d bleed out in less than fifteen seconds. Not even your Moony, aussi habile qu'il soit de ses mains, pourrait vous sauver." (as good as he is with his hands, would be able to save you.”) Regulus says quietly, cruelly. He isn’t lying, isn't exaggerating for Sirius's benefit, one little movement of his hand and the blade would press through the delicate epidermis and kill him . He searches his eyes for hesitation, but they’re rolling back like he could come in his pants just from Regulus explaining the danger he’s in right now. 

“Merde.” Sirius exhales. 

“I’ve had a hard day, Sirius.” Regulus starts offhandedly. He leans himself back against the counter, free hand coming down to his trousers as he works to get them open. 

Sirius’s chin is raised, and it forces him to glance down with just his eyes, giving him a low lidded and lust filled expression. “Yeah baby?” 

“Yes. Very frustrating. Can’t you tell?” He strokes himself slowly, up and down, eyes following the little drops of blood he’d encouraged slide down to his brother’s clavicle. 

“Mm, yeah. Yeah I can.” Sirius licks his lip. 

“I think I deserve to get off. And I want you to do it. Well, I might add, or you should be very worried..” Regulus presses in just a little. Not enough to cut the skin, but enough for Sirius to feel the threat of it. “That you’ve tempted a murderer to hold a knife to your throat.”

“Oh, god..” Sirius groans, and Regulus can read the control it takes to hold his body still even while his hands fumble to find Regulus’s and replace them on his prick. 

Regulus, sort of, steals a line from Remus when he says, “God isn’t going to save you, Siri, he’s going to damn you for every second of this that you enjoy.” 

It has the intended effect. Sirius gets a tug of his cock in before he whimpers, and then he’s stroking and squeezing Regulus like his life depends on it.

And it sort of does.

Because Regulus’s mouth is watering at the sight of his brother bleeding for him. It makes him feel powerful, the well controlled press of the blade he holds into his brother’s neck, and there is this deep seeded little part of him that remembers all of the times Sirius came to him bleeding, all of the times he kissed and licked away the salty tears, even when it got iron on his tongue to do so, and makes him throb . 

One easy little flick of his fingers would be all that it takes to make more of it pour from his throat. Just the gentlest pressure on one of those arteries, the ones that bounce, press harder into the sharp edge when Sirius swallows. And Regulus thinks, because his brother is still hard as a rock against him, that Sirius would fucking let him . 

“Did you not get ripped apart enough as a child, Sirius?” Regulus is biting out viciously before the thought has even fully crossed his mind. He sees his brother swallow harder. “Or is that what fucked you up? Did you get hard when mommy-dearest would whip you?”

It’s going too far. It’s picking at open wounds that they haven’t really talked about yet. If Sirius said that same thing to Regulus, he would have a panic attack. He would cry. He would stop this immediately by calling red and he would hate Sirius for saying it. 

Sirius does none of these things. He growls, a low rumble in his throat before he churns out, “No, but I was never more fucking stiff then when you sat in my lap and swallowed it down your own throat for me after.” 

“Fuck,” Regulus gasps. 

“ C'est exactement ce que je voulais faire. (That's exactly what I wanted to do.) I wanted to lay you out underneath me and fuck my cock down your throat, paint your tongue with my blood and my come. I was bleeding for you and I wanted you to taste it. Wanted to punish you for it." Sirius speaks slowly, measured sentences so he doesn’t move against the threat on his skin because Regulus is pressing in harder for it. 

He feels the skin rip when his brother’s words make him moan. His arm leans for stability against Sirius's chest so that he doesn’t go deeper. His eyes close, and it's dangerous to deny himself vision when he could so easily really hurt him, but he can’t help it, he’s so close.

“Keep going.” Regulus whines. He’s lost that control over his voice, he’s damn near begging to hear more as pleasure builds in him. 

“It hurt so bad , baby. She ripped me up on the outside and the urge to take you for it did the same damage on the inside. I’d cry because it hurt and you’d cry too and I’d hold you knowing you had no idea that the pain of wanting you was so much worse than the parts of me that were actively bleeding.” 

“Oh. Merde. Fuck. Fuck.” Regulus pants, he’s almost there, so close, he just needs-

" aïe !" Sirius cries, and Regulus fucking explodes . He paints wet ropes along the front of his grey t-shirt as streaks of red drip down and soak into the collar from where Regulus's hand, the one holding the knife, had fucking slipped. 

The paring knife clatters to the ground and Regulus’s hand comes up to cover the wound, the small slit in the skin, thankfully so much lower then where he’d been holding the blade. In a place that bleeds a lot of wet red but wont kill. 

Sirius is tearing his jeans open and pulling himself out, hastily jerking his hand as Regulus trembles, breathing heavily and watching. It’s quick pulls, so fast his skin blurs and his rings clink and Sirius can’t help the little grunts that spill out of his mouth. 

Satisfied that his brother won't die for the blood that he spills, Regulus lets the wound bleed while he brings his soiled hand up to his brother's mouth, wiping crimson along his bottom lip. It picks up spit and he brings it to his own mouth and sucks the messy combination from his thumb. 

Sirius is crying. Sobbing, actually, now that Regulus has the presence of mind to notice the tracks down his cheeks. The heave of his chest, not just from the pleasure he hurriedly rings from himself. When Regulus swipes the palm of his hand over himself, smearing his softened prick in iron, Sirius comes all over his stomach, painting him in white. 

It’s dirty colors. 

It’s clean ones, too. 

It’s very fucking sick. 

Regulus is glad to have heard the ways in which their relationship was indecently skewed from his brother’s end, because he used to daydream about Walburga aiming lower, so that he could take a peak at parts of his brother he ached to know intimately. So that he could kiss him somewhere that would make him feel good after he’d been made to feel so badly. 

*

Remus shoots James an amused look as he hears the quiet whispers from the kitchen turn into slapping skin and grunts. James grins back at him in return. 

He’d grabbed a book from the shelves and opened it up to a random page to read, but he was too distracted to digest the words. Not by the tv, which James had turned on for himself, but by James. Remus often noticed the man, but he didn’t often let himself notice him, and he wanted to. 

He sits and rubs the skin of his lip with the two fingers he leans against as he admires the firm shape of his chest under the tight black shirt he wears. The way the line of his legs fills out the fabric of his gray sweatpants. 

His eyes follow the trail from his ankles, up to his knees, up to the very obvious bulge at the front of his pants. He swallows the excess of spit in his mouth, glancing away before glancing back and repeating this trend of self denial for several minutes while he pretends to read and the moans from the kitchen grow louder. 

James’s sigh breaks his already pathetic concentration. Remus glances up at him from the edges of his book. 

“See something you like, Moony?” James teases. Fucker knows he’s gorgeous, isn’t shy about flaunting it. 

“You know that I do.” Remus says in a measured tone. Quietly assessing the way that James is looking at him. Eager, like something to play with, and it has him sort of on edge because the two of them haven’t, really. Played. They’ve made out and there’s been plenty of heavy frotting and sure, in a group setting sometimes their body parts come into contact but it’s always seemed like more of an unintentional move than anything else. 

Except on Friday, when Remus had reached out specifically for James, and James had reached back . The memory exacerbates his growing erection as he waits for James to say something . 

“I’m not small like Regulus.” James notes. An inconsequential little statement, just something he points out. 

“I can see that?” Remus asks flatly for him to continue. 

“I’m not.. lanky, long and nimble, like Sirius.” James shrugs as he takes a couple of steps closer, around the coffee table. 

“Mhm..” Remus hums as he makes a show of assessing his body, like that’s why he’s standing in front of him now. To be looked at. 

“I’m not..” James leans down, arm on the couch to get right in Remus’s face, “Submissive, like them..” 

“I don’t need you to be.” Remus breathes out into his face. James eyes dart to his mouth. 

“But I can still be a damn good time, Remus Lupin.” 

“I’m sure that you are..” Remus nods. He wishes he could’ve said something better, something quippy or flirty like he might do with the other two men he fucks, but he can’t get anything out. Like he’s a slave to wherever James is going with this list of plainly obvious character traits. 

“So, how about you take me for a ride, Moony?” James’s hips come forward as he drops himself into Remus’s lap, dislodging the book from his hands in a smooth motion as he tosses it to the side. “See if you like it as much as you like looking at me? ” 

James is a confident lover, evident in the way he holds himself, sways his hips and parts his supple lips and begs his partner to come closer, love harder. He's a gym-body sin offering himself up to be taken and Remus, admittedly, likes to take apart things smaller than him, likes to strip them down to nothing but hazy minds and pliant bodies. James, though, doesn’t strike him as the type to be stripped down by pleasure. No, James seems to him like the kind to take it up the ass and still have every ounce of control in him to press closer, bite harder, pull Remus’s hair while Remus fucks into him. 

Remus thinks he’s probably right. He’s hard as a rock, and he wants to find out for sure. Thinks he’d like that, for a change, since it’s coming from James, who he trusts. 

When James leans in to kiss him, Remus kisses him back. Meets his passion, their lips are hard presses of skin and teeth and tongue and James does, in fact, slip his hands into Remus’s hair. Remus holds his hips, pulls him down so that their hardest parts meet and press, making them both moan into each other's mouths. 

He could take him right here. Lift him, because he is still shorter if not smaller than him, take down his pants and shove himself inside where it’s dark and deep and hot but James Potter deserves better then some sofa time fuck from Remus as there first time alone together.

He deserves to be spoiled, because he so often does the spoiling. He deserves to be invited into Remus’s bed, instead of having to ask permission to lay in it. He deserves a night for them, not a “night without Sirius” as it has been in the past. 

So as much as Remus wants to work him open, taunt him harshly, really push until James lets that feral thing inside of him free right here in the goddamn lounge, he doesn’t. 

He does pull him out from the dip of his sweatpants, though, and stroke him with a determined hand. He does draw moans from James that border on animalistic. He does tell James about all of the naughty things he wants to do with him. And it’s a change, saying with, not to, but Remus likes the way it is between them. 

“I’m not going to have you like this until I’ve had you in my bed, James, dear.” James groans at the condescension in his tone. 

“Not until I’ve left marks on you that won't go away for days, and have had you do the same to me, because I bet you like that, James. Marks and scrapes and teeth in skin, huh?” 

“Fuck, yes.” James groans into his mouth. He bites his lip, arching his hips into Remus’s giving hand. 

“I’d like to see how hard you go, James, we can’t do that when we’re racing our boyfriend’s cocks in the other room.”

“It doesn’t have to be a race,” James grits out, trembling where he sits, “Take me to the bedroom, Moony. Take me.” 

“Nope. Going to take you apart, take my time with you. Not like this.” 

“Ugggh.” James complains, but Remus can feel the way his cock throbs. 

“Yeah, does that sound nice?” 

“Fuck. Yeah. But.. want you now. You could have me now.” James whines. It’s not the soft, girlish cries his boyfriend makes. It’s not the dramatic sighs that Remus’s boyfriend makes, either. It’s entirely James, petulant and spoiled, like it physically pains him to be told no, and he thinks if he asks enough times you’ll give in. 

Remus wont, he has more resolve then that. He’s wanted the chance to have James for long enough to not waist their first time on fucking impulsivity. It’s going to be good. It’s going to be an explosion. 

“I could. I could have you any way I want, isn’t that right, Jamie?” He asks smugly. "Isn't that what you've offered me?" 

“Yes. Shit. Moony-,” 

“uh, uh. Nope. What's my name when I’ve got a hand on your cock?” He opens his eyes to watch the frustration on his face. 

“I’m not calling you that. Fuck. Not..” 

“Calling me what, huh? You don’t want to call me sir? You don’t have to submit to me, Jamie, but it’s still my fucking title and you’ll use it. Won’t you?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah, yeah you will, because I’m milking your cock and that earns me some respect, doesn’t it?” 

“Fu-uck..” James’s voice is broken as he grits out the swear. 

Remus leans in to bite at his lip. When James tries to pull away, Remus taps him on the cheek for it. It’s hardly a slap but James returns it . Hits him right on the face and then dives in to kiss him hard and Remus shoots in his pants, untouched like a fucking teenager from it. Spills, soaks the front of his pants, from James giving as much back as Remus gave to him. 

It’s disgustingly hedonistic, the way Remus drinks it in. The wildness, switched on like a torch, the way this beautiful man went from stalking over to him with this calm offer of himself, to something that hits and bites and fights even while he’s being pleasured. 

He’s seen the way he is with Regulus. Even with Sirius, he’s a little mean and a little rough around the edges in bed sometimes, but with Regulus he’s downright unmerciful. He’s the sharp of a knife, carving around the man’s soft edges with precision. Taking sadistic pleasure from the way the pretty thing writhes. 

Remus wants that pension for cruelty aimed at himself. He wants to know it’s chasing him and he wants to let it catch him so he can show him how wild things roll around in the sheets together. It makes him feel free. Undefined by social norms, by the rules and regulations put in place for safety. It's dangerous, James is dangerous, in the way that his brand of play is active and addictive. 

He groans into James’s mouth with a fervor, plot to rip his title from the man’s lips abandoned because he’s swimming in stars and moving his hand so fast his fucking wrist hurts. It doesn’t hurt for long though, because James’s hips stutter and Remus aims his cock up so that he makes a mess of his own clothes. 

James pants into his mouth, a hand still entwined in the locks of his hair. “Fuckk.. fuck, Moony.”  

“Mmm.. yeah. Yeah, James. I’m going to have you fucking properly, don’t you dare try to wring something this rushed out of me again before I do.” 

James chuckles against his lips, licks them teasingly before he pulls away, and with that sickly satisfied look of his says, “Sir, yes, sir.” 

…And, yeah. Remus is definitely going to enjoy the challenge that is James fucking Potter in his bed.

Chapter Text

Regulus catalogs the rest of the week in a series of highly thought out murder plans, and his partners who do their best to stifle his rising annoyance before those said plans work their way out of his brain and into fruition. 

It’s a close one, several times over. Tuesday is another busy day for customers, and he’s stuck at the register with Nosy-Toby as Regulus has nicknamed him by lunch, for the many ways he tries to insert himself despite the fact that Regulus gives him his best death glares and “ Doesn’t he have his own work to do?” As he complains loudly to James later that evening.

He has questions about everything, and it doesn’t even phase him when Regulus stops answering altogether. He just keeps going.

 “Where in France are you from?” Silence.

 “Do you know the mythology behind the star you’re named after?” Glare.

 “When did you first learn English? Because your accent is remarkably well hidden by the dry tone you project.” This one earns a reply, if only for Regulus’s irritability.

“It’s not projection, it’s my personality. Dry. So you should stop asking questions.” Regulus replies in his best monotone. 

Tobias laughs, “Oh, I highly doubt that, and I’m curious why you want me to think so.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Regulus bites out at him. 

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Tobias shrugs, nonplussed.

“I’ll cut his tongue out and feed it to our cat.” Regulus gripes into his wine glass over dinner that night. 

James gasps, “You will do no such thing! You’ll upset her delicate palate.” 

“Delicate? She leaves marks all over everything! Every one! My left arm is a horror show currently, thanks to her.” 

“She means well. You, pretty thing, would not mean well by feeding her something so slimy.” 

“ He’s slimy! Precisely, all of him, a slimy git. Ick. I hate him.” 

“Like you hate me?” James grins slyly at him. Regulus shoots him a glare and ignores his logic. 

On Wednesday, it’s a slow day. Remus had offered up his French Fables book like a comfort item that morning before work and Regulus had readily accepted, so he had it out on the counter, reading between customers. 

“Hm, Jean de La Fontaine. Brilliant man, he used animals as a caricature of human emotions.” 

“It’s called personification.” Regulus grinds out at him, covering the half of the book he’s not currently reading with his arm. 

“Favorite of yours?” When Regulus shoots him a glare, he holds up his hands, “It’s well worn, is all.” 

“It’s my boyfriend’s.” 

“First edition, and he treats it like that?” Tobias leans over and nods to Sirius’s scribbles in the right hand corner. 

“None of your concern how he or I treat our books.” 

“Is it serious with him?” Regulus bites back a laugh. 

“ That is also none of your concern, Tobias.” Honestly, the gull of this man. 

“Understood,” He nods, backing politely away again. “I’m sorry, I’m a man attracted to curiosities. And bored out of my mind by the silence here, why do you not have a radio playing or something?” 

Regulus has asked the same question of Mary many times before. “Upsets the plants” she always answers. “If you’re bored, why don’t you busy yourself by doing your job and fixing that dumb machine so you can leave?” 

“I am attempting to do that, it’s not as easy as it looks to tear down something so silent and complicated..” Tobias pauses to glance over at him, and the stare feels as oily as a touch against Regulus’s skin. He tugs on the sleeve of his shirt, shifting uncomfortably. “But I’ll manage.”

Regulus blinks a couple of times, and he feels like the ancient as all hell register is not what Tobias is talking about. “We’ll see about that.” He finally scoffs.

He texts James first at lunch. 

12:03pm, Regulus: Ditch the dogs, come play fetch with me instead.. please. I’m begging. 

Next he texts Sirius, just to really solidify his desperation.

12:05pm, Regulus: Release my boyfriend from your clutches immediately.. he has a damsel to save. me. 

12:06pm, Regulus: Please.. If you love me.

James replies a couple of minutes later.

12:10pm, James: i’ll do u one better.. i’ll bring the dog out for a walk ;)

Sirius’s reply follows, and their texts bring the first real smile to Regulus’s face in hours.

12:12pm, Sirius: I resent being called a dog.. but i’ve got a mean bite, sick me on ‘em reg 

Regulus plans to do just that. He even ditches his break five minutes early to ensure he’s back at the counter in time, and he’s so glad that he does when he hears the rumble of Sirius’s motorcycle pull up to the front of the shop. 

Show off doesn’t even park in a lot, he just rides right up to the front of the door. Regulus revels in the way Tobias’s mouth drops at the sight as Sirius fluidly throws his long leg over the bike, pulls off his helmet and shakes his hair out so it falls just so around his shoulders.

In black leather riding gear and spikes, rings on all of his ungloved fingers and silver hoops in his ears, several tattoos on his neck on display, his brother looks fucking hot . 

He strides in through the glass door, carelessly flipping the open sign to close behind him as he does. James, bless him, is slower to get off the bike, but he looks none the less attractive as he does, all muscle and skin showing like he doesn’t have a care in the world about the potential roadburn. 

“Friends of yours?” Tobias breathes from his positively starstruck position behind him. 

“Something like that.” Regulus grins as Sirius lets himself in. 

“Boyfriend delivery.” He sing-songs playfully, and though he doesn’t add on that it’s a special two for one, Regulus knows it and he lets it make him feel happy , even with Tobias’s sour disposition next to him. 

“Brilliant. And will I get to keep that one or is it a loan-for-the-hour-service?” He quips back. 

Tobias snorts. Regulus ignores it. 

“He’s yours for the day. He was upsetting the dogs anyway.” Sirius shrugs, a lopsided grin on his face when Regulus comes around the counter to give him a hug. It earns him a kiss on the cheek, too. Polite, nice, even maybe brotherly if one was privy to their blood relation and looked in on the interaction. Regulus feels it for what it really is, though, a Remus specialty that Sirius is using to placate his mood at this moment. Regulus lets it do that, too. 

“Thank you.” Regulus blinks up sweetly. 

“Anything for you, petite étoile. (little star.)" 

Tobias ignorantly clears his throat behind them as James finally makes his way inside. 

“Sirius, this is Tobias. Tobias, Sirius.” Regulus makes the wary introduction, if only to put a smarmy face to the git he’s clearly going to spend his evenings complaining about. 

Sirius nods his way, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him until he says, “Are you two.. related? Your namesakes are-..” 

“A funny coincidence, that. The looks, too.” Sirius deadpans. It would make Regulus laugh if he didn’t feel so suddenly caught in the middle of a pissing contest. One where Sirius pisses on a toy that’s his while Tobias pisses on a nearby tree because he’s got terrible depth perception, or something. One that Sirius quite obviously wins.

“Really, wow, tha-,” 

Again, Sirius interrupts him by snapping. “Yes, our mothers just had very similar tastes in men, it would seem.” Sirius's hand travels down to his ass and squeezes. Tobias can't see it, but it makes Regulus blush all the same.

 Tobias makes a wounded little noise, mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "you must be related", and Regulus can’t help but snort. 

James chooses now to intervene, pulling Regulus into him solidly as he addresses Tobias. “I’m James.” He says, holding out his hand. 

Tobias takes it with a shake and a nod of the head, “The boyfriend?” 

“The very same.” 

“Charmed. Tobias.” 

“Nice to meet you. Okay if I hang out here? I’ll only bug Reg a little.” James smiles crookedly. 

“I don’t know why you’re asking him, he doesn’t even work here.” Regulus mutters. 

James smiles down at him, pats a hand on his cheek. “I’m asking him because it’s polite to not force your company on another person, Reggie baby.” His boyfriend is such a fucking smart ass. Could Regulus possibly love him any more?

“I don’t mind at all. Always room for another pretty face.” Tobias shrugs, tone indifferent, as if the punch James nudged his way just didn’t land. Regulus wishes he would’ve punched harder. No one calls his boyfriend pretty but him. And, well.. their other boyfriends.

Niceties aside, Sirius leaves (although with less melodrama then Regulus would like at this moment) and James stays (thankfully). Distracts him nicely throughout the quiet moments, interrupts Tobias when he tries to reinstate conversation. Drags him to the bathroom, locks the stall and reminds him why it’s his favorite bathroom stall in the whole world, and he leaves it flushed bright red in the cheeks. It’s a good Wednesday afternoon. 

Before they’re about to leave, Tobias tries to say goodbye to James, and it’s an awkward encounter to say the least. He says some long winded, well meaning thing about James seeming lovely and it being nice to meet him and James can’t even listen to half of it before he’s stopping him with a hand in the air. 

“Woah, woah, slow down please, Reg, you wanna interpret that for me?” 

“You don’t speak French?” Tobias asks in a confused tone.

“Uh, no. I can understand the basics, not a lot. I mainly know what this one,” James juts a thumb in his direction, “Is saying just based off of his tone, but I don’t know you, mate, so that was all just gibberish to my ears.”

“So then do you.. read it?” Tobias’s eyes narrow. 

“Not a word?” James frames it like a question, and Regulus almost busts out laughing at the “Is this guy for real?” look he gets from his boyfriend. 

When he slides Remus’s book off the counter and realizes Tobias is eyeing it curiously, he also realizes the miscommunication that's happened, and could he correct it? Sure. an easy "Oh, I have more than one boyfriend." Would have done nicely. But he doesn’t. 

“Nevermind him, Jamie.” He sighs out instead, and they leave him standing there. They go home, they have dinner, and it’s a good night too, because he and Sirius get front row seats to Remus asking James to spend Friday night with him, alone, and it’s so fucking sweet the way James’s face lights up when he accepts. 

On Thursday, there’s not much to report. Tobias is surprisingly quiet for most of the day, except for when Regulus comes back from his break to find the French Fables book open in his hands. 

Tobias looks flustered, eyes wide and Regulus doesn’t get to see what page he was on because when he looks up and spots Regulus he slams it closed and flops it back down on the table. “It fell.” He explains in a startled tone before turning his back on him.

Sure it did, he thinks, nosy git. He puts the book back in his bag, a protective feeling washing over him and making him resign to leave the book at home tomorrow, regardless of the comfort it brings him to thumb through the pages. At home, James finally rings the answer that he’s looking for out of him. 

He uses that salacious mouth of his in all kinds of ways that have Regulus crying, whimpering, trembling, calling out obscenities until he’s so desperate that the only word his mouth can form in response to “Will you please meet my parents, baby?” Is “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” 

Friday finally comes, and Regulus waits. He waits all fucking day, for Tobias to proclaim “I found the issue, I know which parts you need, I’ll order them straight away!” But he doesn’t. He hasn’t said it by ten, by twelve, by two pm and Regulus is getting positively antsy because he wants this weirdo out of his hair already, but Mary won't hear a lick of it because he’s apparently the best at what he does, despite the way Regulus doesn’t think he’s done much of anything except routinely invade his own personal space. It frustrates him to no end, the way he has to continually create space between them that should fucking be there to begin with. 

“So have you figured it out?” Regulus grits out at 4:55pm, right before he’s about to close, because he can’t stand not knowing anymore. 

“Not exactly. Still some tests I need to run on some of the internal mechanisms before I check the-'' Regulus slams the door between himself and the awfully slow drawl of the man's voice. It's like he’s being fairly particular in the way he sounds out his words. He drives himself home with the intention of spending the night in his brother’s bed, doing all manner of things to chase away his rapidly escalating pension for murder. His brother’s bed, in their apartment, because they’ll be alone. Because Jamie and Moony have a date.

*

Tuesday

Remus has Sirius pulled upright in his lap, sky darkening outside of the window behind him, gyrating his hips as he makes Sirius talk . He makes his boyfriend tell him all about how his little brother set his blood alight this afternoon, and it’s like being read erotic poetry for all of the ways in which it sounds so sweet in his ears and turns him on.  

“The apron, Sir. The way he ties the straps around his waist, lets it suck him in, bow at the front like a present just begging to be unwrapped..” Sirius moans. 

Remus thumbs at a hardening bud of pink. “What do you think I’d find underneath if I unwrapped him?” 

“Lace,” Sirius gasps out, “So much lace. A body suit or something, simple but see-through.” 

Remus thrusts his hips up, hits deep, makes the man in his lap whine. “And how would I get him out of the lace, too, Siri darling? Hmm?” 

“You’d lay him down, run your hands all over him, call him pretty. Call him a pretty girl. He loves that.” Remus eyes the way Sirius’s cock twitches as he says it. 

“Tell me what I’d find underneath it..” Remus bites playfully at Sirius’s shoulder, gyrates his hips again. They’re going slow, going deep, and Remus is taking his sweet time to prolong the release he knows is coming for both of them. 

“Flushed, pale skin.. soft like satin, except his back, which is so fucking.. oh, it’s so bad. So messed up. But I touch his scars and I get so fucking hard! He’s so soft, so delicate, but so.. so..”

“Resilient,” Remus groans. 

“ Merde, Oui, ohh..” Sirius’s body loses it’s rigidity, he falls back and Remus wraps a sturdy arm around his chest to hold the slack of him upright as he continues to fuck into him. “When he wears that mascara, Sir?” 

“And the lip gloss..” Remus notes on the tail end of a grunt, pretty androgynous picture of their boyfriend, his new submissive in his head. 

“Oh, he’s so.. tempting, fuck. So sinful.” Sirius grinds back against him, taking over the work and Remus lets him. “Makes me want to ruin him over and over again.” 

“Yeah darling? You like having something to fuck your cock into?” 

“Not something,” Sirius gasps, “Him. Him, Merde, everything about him makes me feel ready to combust!” Remus grabs hold of the prick standing at attention, bouncing around as he moves and strokes him quickly as he stills the mans movements and begins his own, fucking into his tight heat from below. It earns him cries of need from his boyfriend's pouty lips, cries that fill his mouth and feed his soul as he turns his head to kiss him deeply.

“That’s it,” Remus pants, “You want to come, honey? Paint my floors while you think about your brother? ” 

“Please, please,” Sirius pants, and Remus can feel him trembling, knows he’s getting close. 

“Ask me nicely.” 

" S'il te plaît," Sirius cries, "S'il vous plaît! , may I come, Sir?" 

Remus is a sucker for French. Is a man at the end of a leash for the way it spills form Sirius’s mouth so readily, obedient and thickly accented because his head is too in the clouds to pronounce anything, and especially not the english that follows, properly. 

He loves the way it slurs, would die to hear it over and over again. Loves the way it becomes an unintelligible babble when he comes, so he growls, “You may.”

 “Uh, Ungfuck, uhhh..” White dampens the tight ring of his fist as he milks the come from his cock, controls the spill so all it can do is leak steadily from the tip. 

It’s this he watches, the thick overflow of it, imagining the way he might paint Regulus’s skin with it much like Sirius paints a canvas, as he comes inside the tight ring of muscle that tenses and squeezes him through his boyfriend’s release. 

“Ohh.. Fuck. That’s it.” His forehead drops against Sirius’s shoulder, rubbing it back and forth to stave off the dizziness. “So fucking good to me, aren’t you? Good fucking boy.” 

Sirius is all whimpers and red skin, hips twitching in an attempt to get away from the hand Remus still has around his softened prick. 

Remus doesn’t let him. 

“I want you..” Remus says slowly. “To start over. Start from the beginning, and tell me again all about how fucking alluring Regulus looks in his little uniform, all dolled up in makeup.” 

Sirius’s mouth works, but no words come out. It’s formless and shaky, “I, but, uh, it, I can’t, ummmm..” 

“You can, and you’re going to. I want you to go slowwww this time, honey. Darling. Love. I want to hear all about that man’s predatory gaze on him, how it made you feel. I want to hear how jealous it made you to know he’s there all day with him, looking like he does.”

“Fuckk.. b-but..” 

“No, not buts. Not one. Tell me.” Remus strokes him slowly, builds him up even though it’s a half hard erection at best. He worships the way his boyfriend is so thoroughly spent, still sitting on his cock and twitching at the sensation but taking it for him. 

“Sir..”  

“Yes?” 

“I wanted to.. to piss on him. Or spit. Or come, or bleed or, fuck.. wanted to mark him up so he was so obviously taken that the spineless prick wouldn’t even look at him.” 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s mine. Because he’s ours. Because he looked like he would stab the prick with gardening sheers and I’d fucking have let him, wanted to do it myself.” Remus strokes faster, feels the throbbing return in the stiffness between his fingers. Thinks it can't be healthy to hate a complete stranger as much as Regulus and Sirius do already. Thinks, fuck healthy, because it's so hot and fuck morals too, while they're at it. Tell me all the ways in which you'd kill the man and revel in . 

“That’s it. Keep going.” 

“And he looked up at me with those doe eyes, Sir, the fuck-me ones, and I could’ve. Could’ve bent him over the counter and pulled down his pants and taken turns with James right in front of that man. Right at the front of the shop.” 

“Yeah?” Remus fucks up into him again. Wet, tight, slippery heat surrounding him. He groans. 

“He asked if we were related!” Sirius sounds appalled, but sickly fucking satisfied all the same. “I wanted to say yes, wanted to say, that’s my baby brother, and then tongue fuck him so deeply that the man quits whatever job he’s doing right on the spot.” 

Remus can’t hold back. Can’t take it slow anymore. He picks Sirius up as he forces himself from the chair, not even bothering to pull out, he just dumps him onto his stomach on the bed, hand still around his prick as he covers him in his body weight and fucks into him.

It’s a punishing race of pulses. He’s definitely, violently ill for the many ways in which those words from Sirius’s mouth make him hot all over. He chases his second release, forces one from Sirius too, taboo falling from both of their lips about this delicate fucking angel, this wicked temptation that they both get to have. That they both get to sin for. 

Wednesday  

When Remus was little, he heard the warning most children do. “Don’t stare at the sun, you’ll go blind”. He thought it nonsensical, that anyone would want to look up at a spinning ball of gas, that they would risk their eyes for the sight. But he gets it, now, as he watches James Potter at dinner.

Understands further whenever James directs the conversation at him, including him, looking at him. He’s even sitting next to him . They don’t touch, but it’s like sitting next to UV rays the way his presence cuts through the room with its glow. 

“Moony will play checkers with me, won’t you Moons?” James asks from beside him with a hopeful little smile. 

“Or you could play chess with me, and leave the child's game to the children.” Regulus mutters from across the table, thumb pointing at his brother. 

And truly, Remus’s mind is much more suited to the intellectual processes of chess, but James is quite literally a warmth that beckons you outside of your usual dwellings, knowing full well it will leave you feeling raw and exhausted but you want to go out and enjoy it so badly that you can’t fucking help it. 

“A lighthearted game sounds nice. Checkers, James, dear?” 

He can hear the indignant huff come from across the table. Knows Sirius is laughing at his starstruck expression as he watches the smile on James’s face grow, and he doesn’t care. James is warm and Remus does want to enjoy it. Wants to soak it up. Feels like he hasn’t felt the sun on his skin in years. Like maybe he’s been stuck stargazing under that canopy of trees for so long that he forgot what daylight might feel like. 

Not that stargazing is a bad thing. It’s beautiful, a wholesome past time, a lifetime of wonder and amazement ahead of him. But Remus is admittedly a creature of habit, and if nothing pulls him out of his obsessions he’ll stay there in the dark. But here James is, offering him a hand, saying “come spend some time with me” and here Remus is, accepting.

Here Remus is, repeating the words verbatim, half way through their game. “Come spend some time with me.” 

“I am?” James grins, lopsided as he moves one of his red pieces. Regulus and Sirius sit, legs tangled up together on the couch behind him, passing a notebook back and forth as they play a truly massive game of knots and crosses. 

James isn’t going to make this an easy offer for him. He’s going to make Remus spell it out, he can tell. “Just the two of us, I mean.” 

“It’s just you and me playing checkers, Moony. Doesn’t this count?” 

Remus sits back, flipping a red piece he’d captured between his fingers, over his knuckles, hoping to project an air of calm and cool authority over the nerves he feels threatening to make him stutter. “It does. However, It’s been ages since you and I had an evening.. alone.”  

“Come spend the night in my bed, then.” James smirks. He’s caught on, sly dog with a bone but he’s not going to chew it up just yet, he’s going to play with it.

“Or you could come spend a night in mine.” Remus raises an eyebrow. 

“Tonight? It’s a weeknight, Moony, surely you have a.. bed time?” James winks at him. 

Remus licks his bottom lip, taking his turn to move a piece on the board before he teases, “No, I plan to embed myself deeply in Sirius the second I win this game. But Friday, my night is free. As is my bed, but if you don’t want to fill it I’m sure either of them..” Remus points behind him, “Would be happy to.” 

James’s throat bobs as he swallows, “I..”

“Or are you, perhaps, eager to be the one underneath me? It’s okay, Jamie, you can admit you want it. No ones going to judge you.” Remus lets loftiness fill his tone. 

James’s jaw sets. Works. Remus can see the fight swimming in his eyes. Hopes he’ll save it for Friday, say yes.

And he does. After a battle of wills, a slow spreading grin takes over his face. Warm brown eyes softening, heating, raking over Remus before he’s leaning over the table and pushing forward a red piece, whispering, “King me.” 

Remus looks down at the board, helpless to stop the piece that moves all the way to his side. 

“King me, and I’ll spend Friday night with you.” James repeats, tone mocking.

And Remus has no choice, because he’s taken up the black square that earns him a second piece. A new title. So he stacks one of his captured reds atop the piece James has ascended to royalty, and smirks when he says, “With pleasure, James.” 

Friday

In many ways, his evening alone with James is much the same as it always is. They cook together, sharing the kitchen easily. They eat, they don’t go so far as to sit at the table, but they lean against the counters and they hold their plates while they talk about their days. It’s friendly. It’s pleasant. 

They have always had this symbiosis between them, this dance they do around each other, like gravity keeps the distance between them even as they move in accordance with each other. 

Except that there is something else between them now. Something drawing them in, pulling them close, teasing at something new. Something just for them, this push and pull that now ties their ends together and eats up the space between. 

Because when they came together before, there was often someone in the middle. And when there wasn’t, there were excuses still between them. 

There’s nothing now, no trees shield Remus from the sun. He’ll have to run through it, feel it on his skin. And when they abandon pretense and niceties, when Remus takes the couple of steps between them, he feels the golden heat. 

James kisses him like he has a point to prove. He kisses deeply, passionately. He kisses like he loves, full of exorbitant emotion because it is brimming out of him so constantly and he had the soft caress of a loving childhood to teach him how to give it. Almost too much, it often encompasses entire rooms full of people, graces anyone in his presence with blinding smiles. Except right now, it’s all aimed at Remus, so shiny that he can only close his eyes and kiss him back. 

Remus lifts him easily up onto the counter and James wastes no time wrapping his legs around Remus’s thighs and tugging him close. His hands go up under James’s shirt, nails dragging along the skin as he pulls it up over his head. It lands in a heap on the floor by his feet, and his shirt follows.

James groans when he gets an uninhibited view of Remus’s chest. “Fuck, Moony.” 

Remus kisses him again. Slow press of lips, pouring meaning into them and hoping to hear it spill back out when he slips his hands into James’s hair and tugs his head up, chin tilted and groans, “What are we doing?” 

James' big brown eyes, wide on him, rake over his face before he says, “Kissing.” The word is slow, well pronounced, repeated long ago conversations. They’re going to fix what they fucked up the first time. 

“Why are we kissing, James?” Remus whispers, refusing to break eye contact. He needs to hear it. Needs to see it. Is going to taste it, the second it's out of James’s mouth.

“Because I want to kiss you. Because you want to kiss me. Because.. we’re together.” 

Remus leans in and devours him like an apology. 

Eats him up like it's his atonement. 

Gives James whatever he wants to take in return. 

Bleeds wet red for him, because Remus Lupin knows, better than most, what happens when wild animals, like the thing James keeps inside of him, get a taste of blood.

Because Remus Lupin knows all about how they bite, and rip, and chew flesh. He’s spent his entire life being lured in by them, being eaten alive by life and then spit back out to continue living it. He has scars all over his body to prove it. 

Because the way James tips his head, assesses him like prey, it’s the sweetest kind of fear that fills him up. Floods him, all chemicals, but instead of fight or flight like it should be, it’s a purr telling him to “Lay down, feed yourself to him, let him have you” .

Because, though he loathes the thin white lines that cover his body, at this moment he thinks he won’t mind if James opens him up and gives him more.  

“Come to bed with me.”

“Take me then.”

“Ask me nicely, sweetheart.” Remus smirks at him. 

James bites his lip, shuffles his hips forward. “Will you make me?” 

Remus groans. “No. I won’t. But I’ll be all the nicer to you, if you do.”

James slips his hands up, into Remus’s hair and tugs, just like Remus did to him. “I don’t want you to be nice. ” James spits, “I want you to be passionate. ”  

They hunt for power between them as they make it down the hall. It’s Remus’s back against the wall, and then James’s against the other side, over and over again, a sweet struggle, neither of them willing to bend. Both of them aim their weapons up, just under chins, fingers on the triggers to let the other know that they will pull them if they have to. It’s hot, it’s heavy, and delicious for Remus to not be the only one holding a gun. 

They make it to the bed, warring with each other’s trousers. When they’re finally naked, Remus pushes him, and he lands flat on his back, arms spread, chest heaving, curly hair around him like a halo. Like a lie, for all of the ways it makes this sinner look positively heavenly against the white of his sheets. 

“You don’t want me to be nice, James?” Remus strokes himself, lip bitten while James takes him in. 

His eyes rake up the fine lines of his body, and when they land on his face, James spreads his fucking legs. “No, Moony. I won’t break for a lack of gentleness. I won't whine for you to slow or stop. I want you to bite me, so that I can bite you back.” 

Remus hears it like a challenge, and he is not soft or sweet or slow or nice while he opens James up with his fingers, with spit, with his fucking tongue. He forces James’s toned legs back and works him up, and James strokes himself while he does. 

He doesn’t whine, but he does grunt, and moan, and beg, a little. “I’m ready, I’m so fucking ready, come on Moony, fucking have me already.” 

“So impatient.” Remus chastises, and he takes even longer for it. When he sees James’s balls tighten with the oncoming of a release, he abandons the open hole he’s having like a meal in favor of biting down on one of them, and James cries out. 

A spoiled hand lands in his hair and pulls, fucking hard, hard enough that Remus launches himself forward and shoves James’s arms down into the mattress over his head. “You trying to make me hurt you, sweetheart?” 

“Yess…” James hisses. 

Remus decides to give the brat what he’s damn well begging for.

He shoves himself home in one go. Quickly, cruelly, hard enough that he has to use his body weight to keep James from smashing his head into the headboard. He screams, loud and gruff underneath him and Remus lets the wild smile grace his face when pride surfaces at the sound he’s just just forced out of him. 

He stills, though. The smallest bit of mercy, he lets James adjust, because he wanted to scare him, not scar him, he still wants this to be good for him. 

James grunts. “Move, please, fu-uck..” 

“Move, what?” Remus pulls his hips back, slides halfway inside again, this time a slow slip of skin. 

“Move, Moony.” James cooes, a delirious smile on his face. Remus kisses it, because though it’s the wrong answer, it’s also sort of the right one. 

James is tight, so fucking tight, and so god damn hot that Remus has to pause to breathe before he obliges. When he does, the rhythm they catch is a smooth wave of rutting. They pick up where they’d left off in bed, the last time they were together, except it’s so much better than the friction against their cocks from before. 

James wraps his arms around Remus’s shoulders and pulls him down, biting and sucking on his lips as Remus thrusts. They moan into each other’s mouth, unhurried in their motions, deep enjoyment on their tongues.

James’s legs find purchase around his thighs again, heels digging in just under his ass, and Remus is so lost in his motions, so used to being in full control that he doesn’t see it coming before James rolls them over. 

Remus lands on his back, James above him. He unlocks his arms, puts his hands on Remus’s chest to support himself as he sinks himself down on his thick length again and grinds . 

Remus groans as that heat envelops him once more. “James.” 

It’s a warning. It’s tentative permission. It’s a king's crown, warily handed over.

James’s nails dig into his pecks as he moves himself. Remus brings his hands down to his hips to hold him steady and arches to meet him, sharp snap of hips and skin. 

James leans forward over him, and it makes his hands slide, fingers brushing his collarbones. The touch makes his breath hitch as James follows the movement, eyes dancing between Remus’s and his fingers. 

Slowly, so slow, those hands slide higher. Remus’s pulse pounds in his ears. His cock throbs, James moves his body like he knows all of the ways to steal pleasure from him. 

James brings his face down, so close that they could kiss, and pants into his mouth. Remus opens his too, breathing it in. Watches the satisfaction grow on the man’s face when his fingers find the bottom line of his throat. 

Remus has a choice to make, then. Because he could very well flip them back over, take back control. Or he could call a safeword, and James would stop, he has no doubt. He’s uncomfortable, a bit frightened, shaking slightly, but full of fucking want. 

And James looks at him like he wants, too. Looks at him like he’s begging Remus to give in. To let go. To be wild, with him. So when James's hands come up around the pulse points of his throat, press just right, just enough, when his eyes plead to play with something bloody.. Remus fucks his cock up into him and decides to let James test this limit. 

James kisses him passionately for it. Expresses his gratitude through the moans that rack his body. Gives him his gratitude in all of the ways his body currently holds pieces of him tight to treasure. 

Remus grips his hips, holding on for dear fucking life, using James’s heated skin to ground himself, even as the edges of his vision go funny. James brings their foreheads together, he moves his hips, he pins him down and chokes him , and Remus fucking comes like that. 

At the mercy of an animal, whose teeth are bared, hands around his neck. Remus knows what it feels like to bleed out, to be dying, and he thinks, this is what I’ve been looking for. He feels the sharp scratch of claws, and the sting is all the reminder he needs that he is alive. He lets James Potter rip him open, and Remus Lupin spills his fucking soul for him.  

Chapter Text

Regulus gets home to an empty apartment, and he takes advantage of this by hopping in the shower and taking an unreasonably long amount of time. The hot water is heavenly, it does wonders to soothe the tension from his muscles from the week he’s had. When he gets out he pampers himself, lotion and leave-in conditioner and a face mask. He's glowing by the time he leaves the bathroom.

He raids Sirius’s closet for an oversized, chunky knit sweater in black that he throws over top a pair of gray classic style underwear (tight, he bulges in the front of them, but that’s the desired effect when he wears girls undergarments anyway) and his black pleat skirt, for comfort. The sleeves hang down over the knuckles of his fingers and he fiddles with them as he heads to the kitchen.

He’s bent over, searching for a soft drink in the crisper drawer of the fridge when he hears the front door open, a couple of footsteps and then the tell tale sound that he’s been discovered, the hiss of air through teeth. He knows the tops of his thighs are on display, and he takes a deep breath to cover the smirk trying to make its way onto his face. 

He stands slowly, shuts the fridge and then makes a show of turning, eyebrow up curiously as he opens the can. He looks at his brother in all his glory, windswept hair, helmet hanging from his left hand, cheeks flushed and mouth gaped open as he stares. 

“Hi, Siri.” Regulus says sweetly, taking a sip of his drink. 

Sirius groans . He swipes his free hand over his face. 

“You okay?” He can feel the heat threatening to overtake his cheeks if his brother continues to just stare at him like that. Like he’s something to eat. 

Sirius doesn’t leave him hanging long, he drops his helmet onto the counter as he stalks forward and Regulus has just enough time to deposit his can on the counter next to him before Sirius is all over him, hands grasping his and hips pressing him back into the door of the fridge. 

“Do you have any idea how fucking lovely it is to come home to this?” Sirius shoves against him with his hips, as if it’ll prove his point for Regulus to feel that hardness against his stomach. As if he hasn’t already spotted it. “To you, like this?”

“Like what?” He squeaks, tilting his chin up to meet his brother’s heated gaze. “I just got out of the shower.”

Sirius’s voice is a low rumble, like he’s in physical pain when he says, “You, petite étoile (little star), are my very own, personal, walking wet dream.” 

This does bring the rouge to his cheeks, an unavoidable consequence of his brother’s attention. He shuffles his ankles, tilting his chin to the side when he feels Sirius’s lips on his chin, and slowly they trail down the side of his throat, like his brother is savoring the taste of his skin. “Mmm..” He hums.

Sirius’s knee slips easily between his thighs, and he’s already tall enough to press where it feels nice but when he lifts onto his toes it presses somewhere blissful that has Regulus keening at the pressure. 

One of his hands is freed when Sirius lets go of it to pull the collar of his jumper over, so that it hangs just off his shoulder, and then he feels those subtle kisses moving along his collarbone, the suction of them leaving pretty pink marks as he goes. “Is this mine?” Sirius asks as he pulls on the fabric.

“Mhm.. Found it at the back of your closet..” Regulus whispers, opening his eyes when he realizes he’s closed them. He finds Sirius gazing down the length of his torso, and it sets his nerves alight. He stammers, “Is that, um, okay? I should’ve asked, I guess, to..” 

Sirius grasps his chin, halting his rapidly oncoming apology for being intrusive with a firm, but gasped, “It’s so fucking okay, baby. You wear my clothes any time you like, okay? Fuck.” 

Sirius kisses any residual tension off of his face, the roughness of his voice vibrating against his lips when he continues, “Would keep you in my clothes 24/7 if I could. My shit all over you, fuck, it’s so hot.” 

“O-oh..” Regulus can only reply before he’s being kissed again. He brings his free hand up over the smoothness of his brother’s chest, finding the zipper to his leather jacket and pulling it down, opening it up so that Sirius can press closer. 

Sirius releases him briefly to pull off his sleeves, blindly tossing it to the counter behind him. It doesn’t quite make it, it clanks to the ground but they both ignore it because as soon as his hands are free, they’re sliding up the outside of Regulus’s thighs, bunching the fabric of his skirt as they go. 

“What’re you wearing under here, hm?” He asks. He holds the skirt with one hand and the other, cool fingers and cold rings, slides around, brushing the edges of his ass before slipping down to the inside of his thigh and then up , fingers brushing the sensitive skin behind his balls as he tests the fabric of the underwear he wears for the shape and feel of it. 

“Just.. underwear..” Regulus breathes. He’s blushing, and his normally quick witted brain has been slowed and lulled by the way his brother has him cornered, touching him anywhere he likes. Regulus wants him to touch more .

“Yeah? Do you own boxers, Reg, or is it all just this frilly shit you’ve gotten from the women’s section?” His brother’s voice teases as his fingers continue to search the edge of the fabric, briefly, too fucking briefly, slipping inside of them. Though he spits the question roughly, it’s an all too pleased sort of non-question. The kind that doesn’t beg an answer because he already knows it, and he isn’t mad about it whatsoever.

Still, Regulus swallows and gives him one anyway, “Um, I do, b-but it’s mostly these..” He rolls his ankle minutely, lets his thigh fall further open, giving Sirius’s hand more room to explore. 

“You’re a menace.” Sirius groans, “This, you, fuck, you shouldn’t be allowed out of the house the way you dress. You drive men mad, you know that? you drive me mad .” 

“Good..” Regulus sighs as the pads of his brother’s fingers caress him from behind. They slide back, through the crack of his ass and over his hole before he’s released, and Sirius's hands find his once more. 

He presses them back into the fridge by Regulus’s sides before he’s sliding down onto his knees. “What’re you-,” he starts, but he’s cut off when he feels Sirius nosing along the outline of his erection. 

Sirius mouths at him. Hot against the fabric of his underwear, wetting it over his cock as his lips squish him. Regulus’s hips stutter, and a soft whimper falls from his lips. “Siri..” 

Sirius looks up at him, face half shielded under the ruffles of his skirt. “Can I pull these down, Reggie? Je vais te faire te sentir si bien, promis.. (I’ll make you feel so good, promise..)” 

If there was a time or a place for Regulus to deny his brother anything he wanted, it certainly wasn’t now, alone in a foreseeably empty apartment, while Sirius looked up at him like he was a four course fucking meal. “Oh, Merde, Oui. ” 

“Mm, thank you ,” Sirius gasps like he’s been holding his breath, just waiting for permission.

Regulus presses his palms flat against the refrigerator as deft fingers come up under the waist band of the skirt he’s wearing in order to pull down just the underwear. Sirius leaves them around his ankles, and the black fabric pools over his head, shielding Regulus’s view. 

He doesn’t need his eyes, though, because Sirius’s mouth is on the bare skin of his prick, getting it wet and warm and throbbing before he sucks him down. Regulus has to lean against the fridge, hips arched out in order to not fucking collapse when he feels Sirius swallow around him. The suction is rapturous, it makes him feel simultaneously like his head is floating but his body is sinking, weighed down by his organs and his blood and all the junk he doesn’t need because literally the only part of his body that matters right now is being sucked like his brother’s goal is to leave him boneless and it’s fucking working. 

He can’t even move, can’t help, can’t fuck himself into the wet heat any faster then Sirius wants to take him because his fingers dig into the skin of his hips and keep him firmly in place. He’s a slave to his brother’s mouth and he’s so happy to be owned, at this moment. 

“Siri, s'il te plaît (please).." He whimpers, breath panting out of him in little gusts, little “uh, ah, uh..” sounds.

His brother hums against him, head bobbing lewdly under his skirt. Wet sounds permeate the air, and Regulus slaps his head back against the fridge, eyes squeezing closed. 

It’s been minutes, only minutes, but he’s going to fucking burst like this. Held still, mercilessly sucked off, his brother on his knees for him.

“I’m gonna, fuck, Siri, I’m gonna come..” his voice shakes on the last word, the “m” stuttering out of him. He can’t hold out, Sirius isn’t stopping, his cheeks are hollowed and his throat is tight and Regulus is too far gone to-

Sirius’s mouth leaves him. His orgasm, the one seconds from stealing his vision and flooding his brother’s throat, it aches violently in his groin and then abades, the subtle puff of his brother’s hot breath not nearly enough anymore to push him over that formerly rapidly approaching edge. 

“Sirius!” He cries, hips stuttering and this time Sirius lets him move, lets him fuck himself into the air, gain no purchase. He lifts the skirt and leans back out from underneath it, smug fucking smirk on his face that makes Regulus want to slap him. Or kiss him. Or shove his prick back into his mouth because his whole body is tingling with the need for a release. 

Sirius nuzzles his thigh as a tremor runs through his leg, threatening to make him collapse. He doesn’t, though, he’s held by strong hands at his hips once more. 

“Shh, shh, breathe, petite étoile. ”

“I need to commmme..” He whines, slutty and desperate, now.

“I know you do, baby. I know.” 

“Please, please..” 

Sirius shushes him again, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his hips as if that could calm the needy way in which his body is screaming at the loss of sensation. 

He thunks his head against the fridge again. Sirius means business, he’s sitting back on his calves and enjoying the way that Regulus begs for him. It’s violently fucking arousing, the way he stares at him. Drinks in the display of need he’s caused.

“You squirm so pretty,” Sirius praises. “Want to see more.” 

“More?” If all he’s got to do is undress to come he’ll happily, eagerly fucking strip. 

“Yeah. Want to cuff you to my bed and watch you writhe around for me. Can I, Reggie? Will you let me?” 

Regulus’s mind goes blank. Fucking empty. There’s air in there, heated and warm just like his body feels. “Cuff.. me?” He repeats, blinking dumbly. 

“Uh-huh,” Sirius nods, a small smirk as he teases, “Handcuffs, silly boy.” Sirius holds out his hands, wrists and fists pressed together to demonstrate. 

And Regulus knows what handcuffs are, of course he does. He’s used them, on more then one occassion, but there’s something in Sirius’s tone, like he’s proposing they continue this maddening game of “rile you up and deny you” that has Regulus leaking from his cock, fucking dripping, and it’s stolen all coherent thoughts from his head because Regulus loves to fucking play like this. 

“Can I?” Sirius asks again. All Regulus can do is nod, bottom lip bitten. 

It’s this agreement that sees his hands bound together over his head by metal cuffs that bite into his skin and make the headboard shake when he tugs on them. His arms are in the air and the rest of his body is laid out, flat on his back on Sirius’s bed, and there’s all manner of creaking below him as Sirius positions his body and his clothes how he wants them. Regulus wonders how he can stand that, the shakiness. He needs a new bed, when they move. 

Regulus has to catalog the mundane things, because otherwise he’s working himself up over the way Sirius’s fingers drag over his nipples as he pulls his jumper up to a bunch under his chin, or the brush of breath along his happy trail as he does the same to the skirt around his waist. He focuses hard on the fabric that's pressed against his mouth in order to ignore the way Sirius puts his hands on the inside of either of his thighs and pushes them open, spreading him wide. 

His panties have slipped off of one ankle to allow this, and they hang off of the other. The state of him is positively pornographic. Sirius stands at the foot of the bed, rubbing his hand over the bulge at the front of his pants, the pants that are still on, as he looks over his handy work. 

“They’re not too tight?” He asks roughly, eyes bouncing to the handcuffs. 

“No..” Regulus shakes his head, tugging on them to prove his point. They’re not comfortable, but they won't hurt him. 

“They might leave marks.” Sirius eyes him warily. 

“I don’t mind.” Regulus answers honestly. Not the full honesty, though, he doesn’t say “I hope they do”. 

“Good. Good. You tell me, if you need me to let you out of them.” 

“I will.” Regulus breathes. Anxious to start whatever show Sirius is wanting from him, he licks his lip, eyes on the erection straining against his brother’s zipper. 

Sirius, though, won’t be rushed. He doesn’t undress, he’s only taken his shoes off since the kitchen. He runs his hands through his hair, breathes steadily through his nose. Sits down on the end of the bed and feels his way up Regulus’s calves, around his knees, up his thighs. 

His hands go obtrusively around his obviously needy prick, and up over his stomach, up to his chest where they find his nipples and brush, press, stroke, squeeze until they’re hard and pointed under his ministrations. The attention, however soft and not at all enough for him, has him keening, twisting a little when Sirius’s fingers brush down along his ribs. 

“So sensitive..” Sirius teases as he goes. He backs off, rubs the front of his pants again, lets Regulus’s pulse calm and then does it again . Soft touches, avoiding the areas that need him most, making his heart race all over again. 

By the third time, Regulus can’t help the whines that fall from his lips. He thinks a person could die from the lack of blood flow to the brain, or at least go mad from the way it’s all pooling at his crotch, when it isn’t following in a steady stream wherever Sirius’s fingers go like he is the rushing current. 

“Sirius, please..” 

“Hmm? What do you need, baby?” 

“Need you.. to touch me..” 

“I am touching you, Reggie.” Sirius points out like he's dumb, fingers skimming around his nipples once more. “Or did you need me to touch you somewhere else?” 

“M-my..” Regulus tries to say his cock. He really, really tries, but it doesn’t come out, he just arches his hips and hopes for a mercy that his brother is too far gone to give him. 

“ “M-my” ”, Sirius repeats back to him, mocking his stammer, “Your what, huh? What do you need me to touch?” 

“Ugh, fuck, m-my.. Sirius!” Regulus cries as his brother sucks a deep purple mark into his pec. 

“You can’t even say it, can you? Come on, petit frère (little brother), I already know what it is. I taught you how to touch it in the first place, the least you can do is say the word when you're asking me to touch it for you.” 

“My prick, Sirius, please, I’m so fucking hard.” Regulus gasps, practically interrupting the condescending chiding spilling from his mouth. 

Sirius smiles so fucking wide. “That’s it, sounds so sweet spilling from your lips, Reggie.” 

Sirius’s hand finally, finally lands on his erection, squeezing and gentle as he strokes him. It’s slow but it’s beautiful and Regulus groans at the contact. His head falls back onto the pillows, warmth pooling once more at his center. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you..” He mumbles repeatedly as Sirius strokes him. His brother’s mouth continues to lavish the skin of his chest, wet tongue teasing at the sensitive buds of his nipples and it’s all so much sensation after so little for so long that he’s gasping and writhing and so close he can taste it again so quickly that it has him dizzy. 

“Please don’t stop. Please can I come this time? Please, please, please..” He babbles, half in French he thinks but not full words, just the ends of them that get mixed up as they spill from his mouth. 

“Are you that desperate to come, baby? You forget how to make words? You get so stupid when you’re horny, don’t you?”

Regulus’s skin is red, embarrassment making him throb. It’s good, it’s painful, it’s sinful the way Sirius degrades him with words while the tone of his voice cooes praise, sends shivers down his spine. His feet make a mess of the sheets where he’s digging his toes into the mattress for purchase, mouth hanging open. 

He can’t hold out, if Sirius doesn’t give him permission he’s going to spill anyway and there’s nothing he can do to-

Sirius stops. Stops moving, stops talking, stops sucking on his skin and Regulus feels like he’s been slapped in the face by his orgasm. It shoots out so fucking hard that he hears it hit the pillow by his head. It rips from his body like a train going over a cliff, tracks of pleasure broken off, plummeting down and his whole body shakes with the force of it.

He doesn’t even notice the way his legs have tensed, keeping his hips hovering in the air until long after he’s finished and Sirius is urging them back down to the bed with his thigh, hiked up over them. His fingers, before all too soft, now rub into the skin of his hip, and he’s got his lips back on his throat, no longer featherlight teasing or harsh pulls of skin but the grounding pressure of warm kisses wherever they land. 

Steady moans spill from Regulus's lips, he's unable to hold them in because waves of pleasure continue to rack his body long after he's emptied all he could. Sirius places a wet kiss to his open mouth and warns, "Keep this open, baby." 

His weight is gone for less than a minute before it's coming back, a new distribution of it because he holds himself up over Regulus's chest and Regulus knows why Sirius wanted him to keep his mouth open, so he lets his tongue hang out and he moans like the cock-fed whore that he is when he feels the heavy weight of his brother's being worked down his throat. 

Sirius anchors himself with his hands in Regulus's hair, holding the back of his head, making sure he keeps his throat straight while he shallowly guides himself in and out of his mouth.

Regulus keeps his lips firmly closed, he sucks at the length he's given and teases the veins with his tongue, all the while Sirius spills compliments about his hole and his body and his gifts . He's slow about this too, Regulus can tell his brother is edging himself, taking his sweet time, making it last.

He goes until Regulus's jaw is sore and his cheeks have tears streaming down them and he's hard all over again from the flavor of Sirius on his tongue. Sirius asks if he can even feel his throat anymore and when Regulus hums his answer, neither of them is sure if it's a yes or a no  but Sirius comes down it anyway, so much that it spills out of the corner of his mouth too. 

They take a breather, after this. Sirius releases him from the handcuffs, cleans up his face, orders them dinner and they cuddle while they eat but Regulus should have known from his brother's unhurried mood that he wasn't done with him yet. 

When Sirius proclaims, "I want to sketch you like that." 

And Regulus asks, "Like what?" 

Sirius reattaches the handcuffs, repositions him just so, just like he did before , legs spread, clothes bunched, except this time he works him open and pushes a vibrating bullet into him, turns it on low and tells him he has to stay still while he works. 

It's hours of this. Low buzzing, leaking cock, under his brother's watchful gaze from behind the canvas, and it's the early morning hours by the time he's given relief and allowed to sleep.

*

Remus is woken up before the sun by his sun. Soft smiles and chapped lips against his skin, being pressed in by the man who fell asleep in his arms only a few hours ago. He’s tired, a little sore, and rock hard where he’s pressed up against James’s lower stomach. He can feel James on his thigh, hard too. 

“Go back to sleep, James.” He croaks, desperately trying to prolong their rest despite the need churning around in his stomach all over again, like he didn’t just have this man several times over the night before. 

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know James is not going to do that, because more insistent parts then his brain are thoroughly awake. 

Those lips continue, they get harsher where they land, peppering his skin until he can feel the blood pool there, and he knows they’re turning him purple in little round marks. “James..” Remus groans. 

“Mmm?” James hums, rubbing up against him so slowly that Remus could probably let it slide, let it just rock him back to sleep, if he wasn’t also being urged to move by the hand around his lower back. 

“It’s still bloody dark out, love..” Remus complains, but despite his resistance and the way his dead arm tingles under James’s neck, his hand curls in to twist into his hair for purchase. 

“Perfect time to spend with my moon..” James croons, and his lips find Remus’s and kiss there too. 

Remus pulls him impossibly closer to kiss him back. Gentle presses, warm heat simmering between them, their movements are soft, unhurried, slow and lazy like the morning sun which hasn’t risen yet. She’s taking her sweet time, so they will too. 

He brings his other hand up around James’s waist, under the cover of his duvet, feeling up the muscled plains of his back. Swimmers muscle, Remus can feel the strength that twitches underneath his fingertips. 

He rolls, an easy turn of his hips that traps James between him and the mattress while they kiss. James’s hands roam, no longer needed to keep up the wave of their hips together. He fingers around the white lines Remus knows are there, twisting the skin of his lower back before those hands move south, grip his ass, dig in.. 

Remus adds pressure to the stroke of his hips. James moans into his mouth, low and sultry, it’s a sweet sound that Remus charishes because this morning, it’s all for him. While Remus enjoys the sharing, the moments alone with each of his lovers are all the more special to him for it. 

“Did you have to wake me up?” Remus groans as he pulls his mouth away to follow James’s jaw with his nose.

“No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to, so I did.”

Remus smiles against his neck, hips snapping again. Spoiled brat of a dom, this man. So entitled. There’s the hard press of skin against skin that makes them both moan. 

“Are you mad at me for it?” James almost chuckles as he wraps his legs around the backs of Remus’s. 

“Very,” Remus punctuates this by pulling his hips back, pushing forward but down so that his cock slips past James’s balls and down into the crack of his ass. The extra pressure is delicious, and makes pleasure spike. “Would you like for me to show you how very upset I am with you?”

“Please.” James says all too sweetly. It’s a grating sound, not like Regulus or Sirius would say it, it’s a dare, a tease, a taunt. 

Remus pulls his body away, mourning the warmth but satisfied as he flips James over and makes him bare his ass. He brings his hands down to the curves, massaging his fingers into them and then pulling them apart to display the sweetest parts of James to him. He holds him open while he rubs his thumb around the sensitive “o” and watches it pucker. James moans for him to do that again, and he does.

When James humps himself into the bed, Remus tsks at him, reaching a hand under him to pull his cock down. It denies him the purchase to grind. It’s squished under his balls, pointing towards Remus where he’s bent it between his thighs, and he rubs his thumb along the exposed underside of his head, drawing a gasp from him. 

“Oh.. shit..” James grabs the pillow with both hands and presses his face into it to stifle his noises. 

“You are ridiculously fucking hot, James, but it’s rather presumptuous of you to think that excuses interupting someones sleep.” Remus chastises, sucking two fingers into his mouth before he brings them down to James’s exposed hole, circling before he works them in, one at a time. 

James tries to throw his ass back into them, but Remus keeps him still by sitting his weight on his thighs. 

“So, since I’m awake, I’m going to take what you’ve offered. That okay, love?” 

“Ohhh..” James’s words are muffled when he continues, “I love when you call me love, Moony.” 

Remus smacks his palm against the side of his ass. “Answer my question. Is it okay for me to take you like this, huh?” 

“Yes,” James gasps for him. Remus feels like the luckiest man alive to have his permission. 

He works him open slowly, steady fingers, smacks to his ass occasionally. He makes it last, takes forever, takes so long that the sun rises along with the volume of James’s moaning. When he finally fits himself at his entrance and slides inside, he’s soaked and lax for him, taking him in easily. 

Remus’s groan smothers James’s. He holds himself on his knees while he grinds himself in, grinds himself deep, and he knows the second he finds James’s prostate because his whole body jerks against the bed. Remus angles his hips, aims there, too slow and missing it too often to make him come but that’s okay, because Remus is aching to see the skin under his hands turn red.

He massages each cheek and then he lands a smack to the right, very nearly to the thigh. James gasps. He does the same to the other one and then he waits a moment, waits to be told to stop, but when it doesn’t come he repeats the process. 

Relishes in the way he can feel his hits reverberate inside of James, against his cock. Like the smack of his hand is a neatly timed vibrator. 

Several slaps later has James biting out, “Are you trying to punish me?” 

Remus lands another smack to his ass. “Yes, is it working?” 

James groans, an indulgent sound, “No. You should try harder .” 

Remus thrusts harder. Hits harder. 

James still begs for more. “Is that all you’ve got Moony?” 

He moves faster, grinds James into the mattress, spurred on by his insessant fucking mocking. When, “That barely fucking hurts.” Is grit out from James’s grinding teeth, Remus wraps a hand in his hair and tugs him upright against him. 

“How's this?” Remus asks as pulls on his hair. James’s cock twitches. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s it..” He groans, and Remus fucks up into him, no longer drawing it out but actively searching for his relief. 

Thick “Ungf, fuck, uh”’s come flooding out of James’s mouth, hands hanging down and digging into the skin of Remus’s thighs as if he knows Remus will deny him if he tries to stroke himself. 

Minutes later, Remus is panting and sweaty and filling James up while he tugs on his hair, asking if he can feel how upset Remus was with him now. James babbles that “yes, yes he can, holy shit, yes he can”. 

Remus has the urge to shove him down onto the bed when he’s done. Sort of wants to continue to treat him harshly, but this urge dissipates when James leans back, all soft and supple against him, and turns his head for a kiss. 

A soft, sweet one, right on the lips, and he’s suddenly so sweet and so hazy and Remus is reminded by the way his cock sticks out in front of him that he hasn’t come yet, and it has him feeling.. not as upset as he thought he was about being woken up. 

His hand slides from James’s hair and down to around his waist, holding him up while he kisses him from the side. Back to the slow searching of lips, loving presses for a while until his arms are sore and then he lays him down gently. 

Encourages him to roll onto his back, comes to lean over him, covering James’s body with his and hovering to kiss him more . So many kisses between them, like the nights they spent hours giving just those. Nothing else, just lips and tongue and sometimes rubbing, but Remus is going to give James more than the slip of skin against skin, now. 

He works his way down his body, hands and mouth searching and praising before he reaches his erection and takes it in his palm, smoothing it up and down. He looks up through his lashes to find James’s eyes on him, a shy, loopy smile on his face.

“You don’t have to do that..” James says softly, and it makes Remus wonder if he thinks he doesn’t want to. 

He’s quick to banish that thought, nuzzling his face into his cock. “Hush, love. I know that I don’t.” 

James nods his ascension, given in to Remus’s honesty. 

His eyes practically roll back when James’s hand comes down and grips his chin, tipping it up. He’s firm when he says, “Look at me, while you do it, then.” 

“Sure, love.” Remus can only mumble, and then he’s got his mouth on him, tasting the salt of his skin and the droplets of excitement that have already wet his tip. James tastes like skin, and spice, and yes, there’s that sweet slow drip of caramel pleasure, again. Remus doesn’t think he could ever get enough of it. 

He keeps his eyes up on James’s, whose own don’t leave Remus’s face as he pleases him. Takes his time again, worships his cock, enjoys the pulse of it on his tongue. He doesn’t know how long he works his jaw over him, but they’re both so lost to it that when James' phone vibrates on the bedside table, they both startle. 

James looks over, and he mumbles a quick, apologetic, “It’s Reg..” 

“Answer it,” Remus pulls off to say, and then he’s back at it. 

James swallows hard before swiping to answer the call and bringing it to his ears. He watches Remus as he says, “Reggie, baby, this better be..” 

James pauses. His eyes go wide and then he’s quickly interrupting with, “English, baby, slow down, who-..” 

Remus gags, on purpose. 

“ Shit,” James swears, and Remus doesn’t know if it’s in response to him or their boyfriend on the phone, but his hand comes down to Remus’s hair and encourages him to do it again . 

“We’re meant to have lunch, I didn’t think they’d.. mmf.. fuck, uh, show up there.” 

Remus’s hand works faster as James starts to tense underneath him. 

“It’s fine, Reg, you’ll be fine, just, be yourself and I’ll be.. uhh, umm, over in, like.. fuck, half an hour.” 

James is going to come. Seconds away from it, in fact, and Remus brings his fingers down to his ass, still open and slippery, slipping two in to press against that sensitive spot inside. 

“Shit! Reg.. gotta, uh, go.. I’ll be there.. soon..mff..” James hangs up the phone. Tosses the fucking thing as he grips the sheets and fucks up into Remus’s mouth again. 

Remus uses his fingers to milk the poor man as he comes. 

When he’s finished, and Remus has thoroughly although hastily cleaned up his mess, he pulls off with a pop, and sensing the urgency in the jerky movements of James pulling him up and kissing him in thanks, he asks, “What's wrong at home?” 

“Time to go.” 

“Why?” 

James gives him a flat look, mouth pursed like he’s holding in the biggest fucking laugh. “My parents are there.” 

Remus can’t hold his laugh in. He practically barks as he drops his face into James’s shoulder, stomach rolling with the imagined sight of Regulus opening the door to Euphemia and Fleamont Potter when their son isn’t even there because he’s at his other boyfriend’s house.

James’s arms come up around him as he laughs too. They spend two solid minutes that James doesn’t really have to waste finding the humor in the situation. Then they both settle, and then jump into action with the realization that poor Regulus is probably in hell right now. 

James is jumping to pull up his pants. Remus is throwing on a clean shirt. “At least Sirius is there. Your parents love him.” He notes idly. 

He’s thinking through what his day is going to hold, since they’ll all be busy, when James, still shirtless even though he’s got like 19 minutes of the 30 he said he’d take, left, comes up to hug him around his waist. “They love you too,” He says coolly, and then he bats his eyelashes, another of those small smiles on his face when he says, “They’ll be happy to see you. I’m sure my dad has some new, bookish things to talk to you about, and you can include Reg since he’s all brainy too.” 

Remus pauses, confusion probably etched all over his face. “You.. I’m.. coming?” 

“Yeah?” James sounds like he’s asking, it sounds like a duh, and now he looks confused too. “Why wouldn’t you be?” 

 The second question has him stumped. Because, honestly, he doesn’t know why he thought he wasn’t invited to spend the day with them. “Um..” 

“Did you have other plans?” James sounds disappointed and it’s the very last thing Remus wants him to feel, ever.  

“No, I just.. um..” Remus, for some reason, can’t find the words. Or maybe he can, but they feel too silly now to come out. He doesn’t have to, though, because James finds them and says them for him. 

“I didn’t explicitly say their visit included you, so you thought it didn’t? Oh Moony..” 

“It’s not something I actively thought, James, I just assumed..” Remus tries to reason. 

“Well don’t. Don’t do that. In fact, do the opposite, assume from here on out that anything like that, boyfriend activities like spending time with my parents, includes you. Expressly, enthusiastically includes you. Got it?” 

James kisses him, and then pats his cheek, and Remus should find it a bit condescending, being talked to like a child, but instead he just feels warm at the way James thought to add on that he wants him there today, and in the future too. “Okay.. yeah.. thank you.” Remus says quietly. 

James beams at him when he puts on his shoes. Sunshine, heat lamp turned up, warm summer day smiles, all aimed at him. Fuck, Remus’s heart stutters, this temperature feels so good . He never wants to leave the warm climate. 

*

He has the worst luck. Truly, genuinely, he’s already not a morning person and Sirius is so he’s already been woken up far earlier then he’d ever want to be and now he’s rushing to the door because someone’s knocking, and he’s barely got Sirius’s t-shirt over his head while he’s pulling the door open, because Sirius was naked in bed and had lazily told him to just ignore that someone was here. 

He wishes he would have. He opens it to a woman, curly blond hair and wearing a horrendous amount of purple and a man, shorter than her but with fabulous curly hair and a sweater over blue jeans. He stares at them for a moment, as they stare at him, mouths hanging open, and okay, so he’s barely dressed, but what did they think was going to happen when they’re knocking on someone’s door so god damn early?

Regulus fidgets with the hem of the shirt, just barely covering the fact that it’s not men’s boxers he’s got on underneath, as he says hastily, “Whatever religion you’re pushing or magazine toy you’re selling, consider everyone in this apartment thoroughly gay and uninterested and take our flat number off your next hit list, okay?” 

He goes to shut the door in the faces of the shocked couple, when long, smooth fingers come up over both of his shoulders from behind him, thumbs digging gently into his shoulder blades. “Regulus, babe, please don’t shut the door on your boyfriend's parents ..” Sirius's voice purrs in his ear.

And yep. Truly, the worst fucking luck . Regulus backs away instinctually, hand halted on the door he has still half closed, but Sirius holds him where he is. 

“Effie, looking gorgeous as ever. Monty, brilliant to see you again. Weren’t we meeting for lunch?” Sirius continues, tone unruffled and pleasant. 

Euphemia Potter eyes Regulus silently, suspiciously, while Fleamont speaks. “Sirius, what a pleasure. We thought we’d surprise James by popping by early. Can we come in?” 

“Of course,” Sirius literally drags Regulus out of the way, opening the door wide for them. He thinks he’s having a heart attack. Or maybe a stroke. He feels like he’s trying to breathe in molasses, or maybe he’s not breathing at all. “James isn’t here, but Reggie can give him a call and let him know you’ve come by. Can’t you, Reg?” Sirius prompts him. 

It spurs him into action. “Yeah, yes, sure, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just.. go call.. James, yeah..” He mutters as he backs himself quickly out of the room, pointing behind him. 

He hears the soft woman’s voice for the first time as he’s leaving the lounge behind when she says, “Sirius darling, who was that?” And he doesn’t loiter in the hallway to hear Sirius’s response. 

Back in the bedroom, he calls James in a flurry of panicked French, and his boyfriend doesn’t sound nearly as concerned as Regulus thinks he should that he’s just opened the door to his parents in his fucking underwear. 

Not only his underwear, but with purple marks visible all over him, lips wet and kiss bitten because he and Sirius were still kind of in the middle of something, and James isn’t here because he spent the night somewhere else so how the fuck is he suppose to explain his appearance when he introduces him as the boyfriend? 

As soon as James rudely hangs up on him, voice suspiciously hoarse, Regulus rushes into Sirius’s bathroom. He does his best to wash-cloth bathe himself and then literally sneaks across the hall to James’s room to put on some of his own clothes. More normal seeming clothes, for a boy. Loose, formal-ish black trousers and his sage green jumper that he’d stolen back from Sirius’s room. 

he smooths his hair, wishes it would soothe his nerves too but there’s just nothing for it, so he sighs, digs his fingernails into his palms and braves the lounge once more. 

The thirty FIVE minutes that they wait for James is agonizing. There’s quiet conversation between Sirius and Fleamont, which they try to include Regulus in, but for the most part he just sits silently next to his brother and tries to pretend his boyfriend’s mother isn’t staring holes through him.

When James and Remus show up, the heat is thankfully taken off of him for a while by their greetings and small talk, so he escapes to the kitchen to make everyone tea. He’s watching the jug boil and holding the counter so tight that his knuckles are turning white when Remus comes in. 

He feels those strong arms wrap around him and hug him close, a soft kiss landing on the top of his head. “Relax, darling. Take some deep breaths. They’re nice, you can be nice, get through today and I’m sure James will reward you for it later.” 

Regulus does his best to breathe. It’s a hindered breath, but it flows in and out of him well enough. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.. Thank you.. did you two have a good night?” He asks, voice quiet. 

Remus squeezes him. “It was lovely. You and Sirius?” 

“I didn’t get much sleep if I’m honest.” He laughs shakily. 

He feels Remus’s smile against his head, “Neither did I. Have a cuddle with me, later? I’ll read you something in French..” 

Regulus can’t refuse the offer, it sounds so sweet. He doesn’t want to, anyway, and he agrees by turning around and kissing him. 

They walk back into the lounge, both carrying trays, and catch the tail end of Euphemia saying, “-just didn’t know you were, gay, darling, that’s all.”

It makes his stomach do flips until James says, “The gayest, you have no idea,” in an all too lighthearted way. His boyfriend pulls him down next to him on the sofa, makes his introductions, and Regulus straightens his back and relies on his meticulous manners training from childhood to get through the first of the questions. 

By the time everyone’s settled in, Regulus is feeling much more relaxed, but he doesn’t miss the way Euphemia - Effie - keeps subtly looking between the four of them. 

He doesn’t think she misses the way that Remus’s hand brushes his own, or the shy, blushing smiles James sends to Remus, or even the way Sirius kisses Remus’s cheek and then aims the same look at him and James. If she doesn’t, though, if she sees all of it and deduces what it might mean for her son who is explaining only the very platonic reasons they’ve all decided to buy a house together, she doesn’t say. She simply raises her eyebrows a couple of times and nods along. 

Fleamont - Monty - is in fact, a professor, but he won’t let Regulus call him Dr. They talk about the library on the campus where he works, the projects he’s currently working on, the books Regulus has read (all of the ones on the syllabus for this year in Monty’s class) and Monty ends up asking why he’s not gone to university. 

“Oh, well.. I couldn’t really afford it, after I left home.” Regulus shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Sirius gives him a funny look at the admission, so he continues if only to not be asked outright, “My family’s accounts are in my name, now, but I didn’t want to touch any of it. So..” 

“Why not?” Monty asks.

“It’s complicated.. They weren’t nice people. Oh, I mean, I’ll have to in order to pay my share of the house though, and I’m more than happy to do that. Actually, it is probably a little funny, the way they’d roll in their grave if they knew that’s what I was spending it on..” He cracks a smile that Sirius mimics back. 

“Why?” Monty asks again. So many fucking whys. 

Regulus feels like he’s babbling when he says, “They were homophobic. Very. And cruel, and well, I’m not exactly going on to marry some prize winning girl and buy her a house and give her ten children, am I, not that James isn’t a prize winning, um, but I mean, none of us can have kids, so..”

Monty raises an eyebrow. “None of you?” 

Regulus swallows hard, stutters, and a hand comes down on either of his knees at the same time. It’s.. embarrassing, and grounding, and he’s honestly so grateful for it. “I just mean.. moving into a house full of men, we’re not exactly going to fill the halls with kids.” 

“No.. I suppose you’re not, are you.” Monty nods, but he doesn’t sound disappointed. When he looks at James, James smiles at him. 

So, while the rest of the afternoon is a bit awkward and a bit strained, Regulus comes away from it really liking Monty, and thinking Effie is a sweet woman if not with too sharp an eye for his secretive taste. They’re leaving, Regulus has said his goodbyes and he’s off to the side with Sirius as he says his to Monty, when he overhears Effie with James near the door. 

“It looked like they were.. in the middle of something, dear. And you spent the night at his boyfriend’s house, and now you’re all moving in together.. Well, I’m not blind, James.” 

“Mum..” 

“Honestly, I’d think you know your parents better by now then to hide something like this. As if we would judge you for it, we’ve always known how much love you have to give.” 

“I didn’t think you’d judge, mum, it’s just so new..” 

Effie sighs, pulling her son into a hug. She turns an eye on Regulus and he hears her lower her voice to say, “He seems wonderful, darling.” 

“He is. He’s this beautiful gift, mum.. I love him.” He hears his boyfriend sigh as he averts his gaze, flush coloring his cheeks. 

“And this love.. includes Sirius and Remus?” 

“It does. I love them too, so much.” 

“Well. As long as they love you, too, darling.” 

When the door closes between them and James’s parents, there’s a breath of fresh air pushed into his lungs. Remus holds Sirius around the waist in a hug, and James comes over to pull him into one too.

And he felt like hell froze over when he opened the door this morning. He feels like he has terrible, ridiculously bad, the worst fucking luck. But how can that be true, when everyone’s eyes are so full of warmth for each other, and he’s got James Potter as a boyfriend? 

Chapter Text

Regulus Black hasn’t found himself this hounded by the incessant thoughts of murder, nor has he been filled with enough rage to commit it since he set The Most Noble House of Black aflame and walked away from the fire a new man, no longer the Black family spare but Regulus Arcturus, a poor man from the south of France who had no family and no money to his name. 

But here he is on Monday morning shaking , tongue coated with enough venom to blind a man with the words he’s due to spit. 

“Give it back.” He slams his palms down flat onto the counter, startling the man who sits next to his spot. 

Tobias jumps. His eyes go wide before they narrow on the rage coloring Regulus’s face red, and then he smirks, this outrageous twist of his lips as he sets his wire cutters down in front of him. Regulus eyes them. 

“Good morning to you too, Regulus.” He replies, voice calm and flat. Projecting disinterest in a way that has Regulus clenching his jaw. 

“Give. It. Back.” He snarls. He’s no less fuming than he was last night. He spent five hours of his Sunday evening panicked and searching everywhere before coming to the horrified conclusion that the only plausible explanation for this tragedy was that Tobias here has sticky fucking fingers.

“Whatever are you asking me to give back?” The man feigns innocence, but not well. The truth of his guilt rolls off of him in putrid waves.

“The bookmark. I know you have it.” 

“Oh.. You wouldn’t happen to mean Remus Lupin’s bookmark? From his book, now would you?” 

Regulus makes a sound that might as well be a snarl, for the way it slips past his clenched teeth in warning. The sound of Remus’s name coming out of this snake’s mouth makes him want to to do very bad, very messy fucking things.

Tobias chuckles. Chuckles. Regulus has a sudden vision of wrapping his fingers around the man’s neck and choking him until he’s purple.

“Relax, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to hold onto it.” Regulus notes that Tobias doesn’t say he didn’t mean to take it in the first place. “But you were gone in such a hurry on Friday, and I was admittedly distracted..” 

“By what, your impending incarceration? Theft is a crime, Tobias.” 

Tobias tilts his head curiously. “No, actually, I was wondering how the lovely man I met last week, your happily dispositioned boyfriend , would react to knowing you’re screwing around on him.”

Regulus guffaws. He would laugh if he wasn’t so angry right now. If he wasn’t so thoroughly annoyed by the audacity of this stranger to think he knows anything at all about his relationships.

“And then, I found myself even more curious how your brother would react, knowing it’s his boyfriend you’re cheating with.”

Regulus takes a sharp breath in, schooling his face. Sure, he might be guessing, but there’s no way Tobias could know that he and Sirius are-

“You’re not that clever, you know. I looked at your file in Mary’s office, and sure, Regulus Arcturus doesn’t exist online, but oh.. Sirius Black does, doesn’t he? So kind of him to leave his last name next to Remus's on that page, made things all the easier for me to find. And I wasn’t at all shocked to find a second birth certificate. One for little Regulus Arcturus Black , born three years after Sirius Black.” 

Regulus’s top lip twitches, the motion moving all of the way up to his eye. “You’re.. fucking insane. You’re a stalker.” 

“Maybe. But you’re a liar, aren’t you? A liar, and a cheater, and a sick fa-”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Regulus snaps before he can complete the slur. 

Tobias continues, “I have to say though, I didn’t think you’d be a switch Reg. You look way too sweet for that.” 

Regulus hangs onto the slivers of his boyfriend’s warning from this morning. “Don’t kill the man baby, it’s not worth going to prison over him.” While he spits, tone low, “What did you just say to me?” 

Tobias shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. “Well it’s just, I hadn’t pegged you as someone who does the fucking. More of a pillow princess, I’d assume. But then, your brother is very obviously not someone to take it up the ass, so if you’re fucking around with his boyfriend, you must..”

Regulus’s hand slides across the counter. “Spend a lot of time thinking about pegging and me in the same sentence, do you?” His tone is deadly. If looks could kill, Tobias would be long since passed by now. As it is, he’s got a foot out the door and he isn’t even guarding himself from it. No, he’s looking death in the face and egging her on. 

“Although, what was your family motto again, Black ? Toujours Pur? So maybe you spend time taking it from your brother, too. Do you fuck all three of them, while none of them know how dirty you are, huh?”

Tobias gasps, breath knocked from his lungs as Regulus twists his hand into the front of his shirt and shoves him back into the wall. His other hand slips from the counter as they move, wire cutters firmly in the palm of his hand as he brings them up to rest the sharp point right under the man’s chin. 

“Say another word about my brother, Tobias, I fucking dare you.” He growls. He’s smaller than Tobias, but considerably stronger considering the ways in which the man’s body is soft from apparent disuse. It’s an easy thing to pin him there and threaten his life, especially when Regulus is filled with so much disgust. 

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Tobias’s arms shoot up. “I’ll give you back the bookmark. But you’re kind of proving my point, Black, by being so sensitive about your brother’s cock being dragged into the conversation.”

Regulus’s hand jerks, not so much an accident as it is an intentional push of the tool into sensitive skin.

“Okay, okay, sheesh. I’ll stop. I wouldn’t want to end up like your poor mother did, after all.” 

Regulus’s stiff stance falters. “What?” He breathes. 

Tobias grins. Even pinned, seconds away from demise and the cold bastard is so fucking pleased with himself. It makes Regulus sick. 

Or maybe that’s from the way that lead has dropped, heavy and sinking into his stomach at the mention of his greatest secret. 

“Does your brother know you killed her?” Tobias taunts. 

Regulus doesn’t know when his subtle, angry shaking turned into a full on tremble, but it has him lowering the unsteady weapon. He keeps his hand twisted in Tobias’s shirt, though, as he glares at him. “You.. You have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t I? See, I think I’m as right as the lead detective on your mother’s case was.” Regulus takes a step away, if only to breath air that isn’t scented by the man he’s pinning. If only to not give away the way his brain slows, the way the walls feel suddenly so much closer around him then they did before. 

“They found no evidence to substantiate any of the allegations that man brought forth against me. He just wanted his fifteen minutes of fame, and he used my family name to get it.” Regulus states factually, a rehearsed line he’d had to say one too many times in that first year before he got away from it all by changing his name. 

“That doesn’t mean he was wrong though, does it? No, I think he was spot on, he just wasn’t asking the right questions. People seldom do.” 

“Where are you going with this?” Regulus spits as he drops his hand from Tobias’s shirt to wipe at his face. The wire cutters hang limply from the hand at his side, now. 

Tobias straightens. He waves his hand in the air as he explains, “I think he was asking “Did Regulus Black kill his mother and set his house on fire?” because he knew you did. But he was blinded by his surety, and without proof, they made him close the case. The thing is, I think he would have found proof if instead he asked, “ Why would Regulus Black kill his mother?”.” 

“You sure have a lot of thoughts.” Regulus deadpans to hide the way his breath comes in shorter and shorter puffs as this conversation continues. He feels caffeine dizzy, the way his pulse races and the room kind of sways and he feels so sick to his stomach. 

“If he asked, “Why was she found in a pool of her own blood”..” 

“She fell and knocked her head on the stairs fleeing the fire.” The explanation comes automatically, a reflex. 

“Why was she running to the basement, Regulus, and not out the front door?” 

Regulus is silent. He has no argument for a question he was never asked, and hasn’t had to defend himself against in years.

“Yeah,” Tobias takes a step forward, “That’s what I thought.” 

“What do you want from me?” Regulus asks, sneer firm on his face even though his chin trembles with the effort to keep it there. 

Tobias takes another step, and it forces Regulus’s back against the counter. He swallows harshly, refusing to break eye contact as he’s cornered.

“I ordered the parts for your register today. They’ll be here within the week, and it’ll take me another week to finish repairs and put it back together. So, two weeks, Regulus. For two weeks, I want you to indulge me. Hold civil conversations with me,” Tobias leans in, hot breath on Regulus’s cheek when he whispers, “play nicely, and if I’m impressed with your show, maybe I won’t tell the people in your life that you’re a cruel, selfish murderer. ” 

“You’re blackmailing me for.. friendship?” 

“You have such a skewed image of me, Regulus, honestly. I can’t even begin to imagine where it’s come from, but I’m blackmailing you for the opportunity to change it.” 

Regulus scoffs and Tobias leans slightly back away from him, but his arms cage him in on either side. He feels like he’s suffocating. “And if something more than friendship comes from that changing, well..” 

The grin Tobias gives him at the insinuation is sickly self satisfied. Regulus thinks he’s going to barf on their shoes. 

“You have no proof of anything you’re saying, why should I even care that you think you know these things?” 

Cold fingers come up to push a stray lock of hair away from his face, brushing his ear as they curl it around. “True, but I don’t need proof, do I, little Black? No, the proof’s written all over that pretty face of yours. And if you don’t play by my rules, your boyfriend and your brother are going to see it too.” 

Regulus swallows down his disgust. He pinches his lips together, turning his head away to stare at the wall, trying to convince himself that it isn’t moving closer. It isn’t going to squeeze him until he pops. He isn’t going to suffocate. “Two weeks?” 

“Two weeks. Be friendly for two weeks, let me show you that you and I are more alike than you think.”

Regulus can’t hide the scoff. He pinches his eyes closed when he breathes, “If you think I’m going to end up liking you at the end of this two weeks, you’re dead fucking wrong.” 

“But you’ll give me the chance anyway, won’t you? You wouldn’t want a rash rejection to cost you your brother. Or to cost your brother his boyfriend, would you? Because, I’m still sure Sirius would be very crushed to know that you share more than just books with Remus Lupin.”

And if Regulus wasn’t still shaky, if fucking Remus was the only information he had on him, Regulus would have stabbed the man. Or at the very least, laughed his ass off, dared him to spread the information around, taken the bookmark back by force and went on with his day like nothing happened. 

But where his mother was found in the house was confidential information. It wasn’t publicly available, Regulus had made sure of that, which means that Tobias, however illegal, had access to documents that weren’t meant to ever see the light of day again. Documents that would no doubt tell the story of the violent son, the spare second child, who brutally mutilated the family matriarch before setting her aflame. And that was information he couldn’t ever have his brother see. 

“You have a deal.” He grits out. Tobias pats him on the cheek, and Regulus knows it’s going to be a long two fucking weeks. Regulus isn’t a praying man, so he doesn’t ask for god to save him, but he does silently beg for his boyfriend’s to forgive him for whatever he has to do to get through it. 

At least he gets Remus’s bookmark back. 

*

Sirius is distracted from his daily duties by vivid, imaginative fantasies of his brother at work turning the contractor, Tobias, into plant food. He’d seen how upset Reg was when he realized the bookmark he’d made for Remus was missing last night, could do nothing to assist James in calming him down and kind of didn’t want to, because the sight of his little star still shaking with rage when he’d left for work that morning was thrilling. 

Regulus had looked as if the missing bit of plastic was something he would rip himself from the sky and rain down hellfire over. Sirius hopes he does. He wishes he could have been there today to see the confrontation between him and Tobias. To see Regulus in his element, breaking the man before him down and ripping him to shreds, with words or with his fingers, Sirius doesn’t care. He knows well that his brother is capable of both. 

Sirius had been on the receiving end of his sharp tongue more than once, and each time, though it cut through his heart like it was aimed to, it also got him hard . The cruelty, sapphic vitriol that poured like poison down one’s throat was practically a Regulus Black specialty, an otherworldly experience of bone melting, earth shattering, asteroid hitting punishment.