“Have you heard from Remus today?” Peter asked, fiddling with his keys as James bent down to tie his laces tighter. The last thing he needed was to eat shit on the way to the pub. Sirius would never let him live that down.
“He said he wasn’t feeling social,” James told him, “you know how he is. Prefers staying in.” They both glanced down the hall to Remus’ room, hoping he was feeling better.
“Should we ask him if he wants paracetamol or something? What if he has a cold? What if it spreads!?” Peter’s eyes went wide but James just snorted.
“Pete, you have the best immune system out of any of us, chill.”
“But I could be a carrier!”
“You’ll be fine, I promise.” James sighed as he stood up right. “Don’t bother Remus, leave him be.” James patted his back and nodded to the door, leaving Peter little chance to turn back now.
“Fine, but I’m buying him some tissues if he starts sneezing.” And they shut the door.
Silence.
A moan.
“Remus, they could still hear—“ Regulus gasped when he felt Remus rub deeper inside him and he slapped a hand over his mouth again, muffling the groan. Remus, lying across his back and looming over him, panted into Regulus’ ear.
“They can’t hear you…promise…please let it out, I want to hear you.” He nuzzled Regulus’ neck and his boyfriend sighed, letting his eyes roll back as Remus’ rocked his hips down. “Doesn’t it feel good?”
“Mhm.”
“Love.”
“Yes!” Regulus pulled his hands away to grip the sheets, fisting them as Remus reached places inside him he’d never felt before. “Oh god, you’re so deep—“
“I know, I know.” Remus pushed his nose against Regulus’ cheek and groaned. “I’m close.”
“Me too.” Regulus turned his head a little and pulled Remus down by his hair for a kiss, making him buck his hips hard. “Come on, puppy.”
“Oh—“ Remus’ snapped his hips forward again. “I’ll cum if you call me that.”
“Good.” Regulus smiled and Remus couldn’t resist him when he smiled. It felt too good, and being called puppy…it melted him. He moaned and gripped onto his boyfriends hips, fucking him into the mattress properly now that the others were gone. They’d silently been lying like this for almost ten minutes whilst James and Peter tottered about getting ready, and it had been almost impossible to not pound Regulus with how much he had been tightening around him. The fear of getting caught somehow turned him on, and Remus wasn’t complaining.
He liked the thrill of it too.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“ Regulus choked out from beneath him and Remus bit his lip as he fucked him a little harder, wanting to feel him go over that edge.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He mumbled and groaned as he felt Regulus start to cum, which immediately triggered his own orgasm. They moved together, rocking and shaking as they slowly came down. Remus’ arms were struggling with his weight and Regulus smiled, gently tugging him back down so he was lying on him again.
“Feel better?” He teased, referring to his friends conversation. Remus chuckled, kissing across Regulus’ shoulders and neck.
“You’re evil.”
“I’m convincing.”
“Fucking when my friends are here is dangerous, you know.” Remus pointed out.
“Like they don’t get laid.”
“They do, but we’re louder.” Remus nipped Regulus’ ear to hear him sigh.
“You are, maybe. I can control myself.” Regulus leaned up for a kiss, knowing Remus would take that as a challenge.
Peak Moonwater dynamic is the two most emotionally closed off and introverted people ever who channel their lack of connection and inner turmoil into their art being each others muses, and usually they don’t even mean for it to happen or for the other to find out.
Like imagine Photographer Remus and Regulus, who knows he’s attractive but has never actually felt beautiful because his self esteem eats itself whole in a never ending cycle and dysphoria goes crazy. In a nonmagic AU, this leads him to be extremely camera shy out of genuine fear of immortalizing a face he views as not himself at the worst or just wrong looking at the best. And then Remus comes around and he can’t stop looking at him. His fingers are itching for his camera. When he caves and snaps one, regulus just stares at him in disbelief because what is there to capture? Remus just stares back because he doesn’t know what to do and then they just kind of move on and don’t mention it. Remus feels bad for not asking first, until he does it again. He didn’t mean to, it was instinct again. Regulus was further away now, looking picturesque while he read on the windowsill and he couldn’t help himself! He finds he has another moment like that again and again. And again. And again. And again-
And Artist Regulus who’s always loved charcoal drawing. He loves the messiness of the medium, the smearing for shadows with his fingers feels like pumping warmth into the coal and how his sketches can blend with and become a part of the final piece and making every step part of the overall feeling. He doesn’t really draw people because they don’t interest him, until he meets Remus. He’s so… just… half his desk has scattered sketches of Remus. His nose, his eyes, his scars, his curls, his hands, his collar bones, they’re all heightened in detail but only as one feature per sketch of the boy because regulus simply can’t capture them all together and make it look like Remus. He’s just too… too… hm, there’s another sketch.