Not across his ribs. Not his hip. Not somewhere hidden by propriety or taste or the careful lines of a buttoned shirt. Low. Deliberate. Inked in fine black arcs just above the pale cut of his pelvis, curling out from either side in elegant, branching points that framed the soft dip of his stomach like a crown made for one specific view.
James had called them dangerous the first time he saw them.
Regulus had laughed then, breathless and pleased and a little shy, pretending he did not know exactly what he had done.
He knew now.
James was between his thighs, and the antlers sat just above his head.
They curved over him every time Regulus arched. Every time his stomach tightened. Every time his hips rolled up helplessly into James’s mouth. The tattoo moved with him, ink shifting over muscle and trembling skin, and James looked like he belonged there under it, buried between Regulus’s legs, worshipping him like he had been dragged to the altar and found heaven wet, hot, shaking, and sweet.
“James,” Regulus whined, his voice breaking on the name.
James groaned into him.
The sound hit straight through Regulus, filthy and deep, vibrating against his swollen pussy. His thighs tightened around James’s head immediately, knees dragging inward like his body had forgotten how to do anything but trap James there. James did not pull away. He pushed closer. His hands tightened on Regulus’s hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to hold, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to make Regulus sob.
“Fuck,” Regulus gasped. “Fuck, Jamie—”
James dragged his tongue through him slowly, obscenely, like he had nowhere else to be in the world. Like time had gone soft and pointless. Like oxygen was a thing for other people. He was slick from chin to mouth, lips swollen, hair already ruined from Regulus’s fingers, and still he looked drunk on it, eyes half-lidded and burning as he lifted them just enough to watch Regulus fall apart above him.
Regulus was flushed everywhere. His chest rose and fell too fast, ribs sharp with each trembling breath, curls stuck damply to his forehead. His legs were spread open around James’s shoulders, thighs quivering from too many orgasms, too much pleasure, too much James. His pussy was wet and messy and swollen from James’s mouth and fingers, still fluttering helplessly even after he had already come again and again, slick dripping down onto the sheets beneath him.
“Please,” Regulus whimpered, even though he did not know what he was begging for anymore. “Please, please, please.”
James answered by fucking his tongue into him.
Regulus cried out, one hand flying down into James’s hair, fingers twisting hard near the roots. He pulled without meaning to, hips jerking up, riding James’s face in short, desperate movements that made James groan again like it hurt him not to be deeper. His tongue pushed inside Regulus’s pussy, hot and insistent, licking into him with hungry, shameless strokes while his nose pressed against the slick mess of him.
“Oh my god,” Regulus choked. “Oh my god, Jamie—”
James pulled back just enough to breathe, mouth shining.
“Look at you,” he rasped.
Regulus shook his head weakly, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks burning.
“No,” he whined.
“Yes.” James kissed the inside of his thigh, open-mouthed and wet. “Look at you. Fucking perfect.”
Regulus made a broken little sound, thighs twitching around him. “Don’t stop.”
James smiled against his skin.
“There he is.”
“Don’t be smug,” Regulus pleaded, but it came out sweet, ruined, barely there. “Just—please, James, please.”
“I’m not stopping,” James said, voice thick. “Couldn’t stop if I tried.”
Then his mouth was back on him.
Regulus’s head fell back hard against the pillows, his back arching until the antlers stretched above James’s head again, sharp black lines crowning the scene. James slid two fingers into him slowly, sinking through slick heat with a low curse muffled against Regulus’s clit. Regulus sobbed, hips bucking up to take them, his whole body clenching down.
“That’s it,” James murmured against him. “That’s it, baby. Take them.”
Regulus whined and pulled his hair again.
James’s fingers curled inside him.
Regulus nearly came off the bed.
“James!”
James did it again, slower this time, dragging his fingers against that spot inside him while his tongue worked over his clit in slick, devastating circles. Regulus was already too sensitive. Every touch was too much. Every touch was not enough. Pleasure sparked down his spine, bright and unbearable, and he rode James’s mouth helplessly, thighs tight, stomach trembling, tattooed antlers shifting with every broken arch of his body.
“I can’t,” Regulus gasped. “I can’t, I can’t—”
James looked up at him without stopping.
Regulus made the mistake of looking down.
James was staring at him like he was starving.
Like Regulus’s pussy was the only thing in the world worth knowing. Like he had found religion between his thighs and it had teeth and wet heat and a taste he would ruin himself for. His glasses were gone somewhere. His eyes were dark. His mouth was pressed to Regulus like he wanted to crawl inside him and live there.
Regulus sobbed.
“Jamie,” he begged. “Please.”
James pulled his mouth away with a slick, obscene sound, fingers still moving inside him. “What do you need?”
James’s expression cracked into something hungry and helpless.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Reg.”
Regulus’s hand tightened in his hair, guiding him back down. “Please.”
James went willingly.
He sucked Regulus’s clit into his mouth, and Regulus came again with a cry so sharp it tore out of him. His thighs clamped down around James’s head, hips jerking up against his face, fingers yanking at his hair as he shook and shook and shook. Wetness spilled hot and sudden over James’s mouth and chin, slicking his fingers, soaking the sheets, and James groaned like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He did not stop.
Regulus’s cry dissolved into a frantic whine.
“James—wait, wait, oh fuck—”
James only tightened his grip on his hips and kept licking.
Regulus writhed under him, overwhelmed, trying to squirm away and push closer at the same time. His body did not know what it wanted. His mouth did. His mouth kept begging.
“Please, please, please, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop—”
James moaned into his pussy, dragging his tongue down through the mess of him, then pushing it inside again like he had not just made Regulus come, like he was not already trembling apart beneath him, like he needed another one out of him immediately or he would die.
Regulus was crying now, soft, pleasure-drunk tears slipping down his temples. He was beautiful like this. Completely gone. Completely open. Sweet and needy and shaking so hard James had to hold him down by the hips.
“Good?” James asked roughly, pulling back only enough for the word to reach him.
Regulus nodded frantically. “Good. So good. Please, Jamie, it’s so good.”
James’s mouth dragged over him again, slower, crueler in its devotion. “You taste so fucking good.”
Regulus whimpered.
“You hear me?” James said, kissing his swollen clit once, twice, then licking over it until Regulus jerked. “I could stay here all night.”
Regulus’s lashes fluttered. “You will.”
James gave a breathless laugh against him. “Yeah?”
Regulus nodded, dazed and flushed. “Yes. Please. I want you to.”
The last thin leash of James’s restraint snapped.
He slid a third finger in beside the first two.
Regulus arched with a broken cry, the antlers on his waist lifting above James like black branches against pale skin. James watched them for half a second, completely wrecked by the sight, then looked back down at the way Regulus stretched around his fingers, wet and tight and fluttering.
“Fuck,” James said, voice gone rough and reverent. “Look at that.”
Regulus whined, hips twitching. “Jamie.”
“I know, baby.”
James worked his fingers slowly at first, letting Regulus feel the stretch. Then he began to scissor them, careful and deep, spreading him open while his mouth pressed kisses over his inner thighs, his mound, the messy slick skin around his pussy. Regulus’s breathing turned ragged. His hands moved from James’s hair to the sheets and back again, needing something to hold, needing James closer, needing the pleasure to stop sharpening and never stop at all.
“You’re so wet,” James murmured. “So fucking wet for me.”
Regulus’s answer was only a whimper.
James curled his fingers again.
Regulus choked on a moan and bucked up hard.
“There,” James said immediately. “There?”
“Yes,” Regulus cried. “Yes, yes, there, please—”
James pushed his face back between Regulus’s legs and licked over his clit as his fingers fucked into him.
Regulus unraveled.
There was nothing elegant about it. Nothing quiet. Nothing contained. He rode James’s face with needy, desperate little rolls of his hips, whining every time James’s tongue pressed harder, every time his fingers stroked deep, every time James groaned into him like Regulus’s pleasure was feeding something ravenous inside him.
“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie—”
James loved the way he said it. Loved it slurred and sobbed and breathless. Loved it when Regulus was too far gone to remember any other word. Loved it when his thighs trembled around his head and his heels dug into his back and his fingers pulled at his hair like he was trying to anchor himself to earth through James’s skull.
“Again,” James mumbled into him.
Regulus shook his head wildly. “I already—Jamie, I already—”
“Again.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
Regulus sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t, I’m too sensitive—”
James softened for half a breath, kissing him gently, tongue flat and slow. “Want me to stop?”
Regulus’s grip on his hair tightened instantly. “No.”
James smiled against him.
“No?”
“No, please don’t stop.” Regulus was panting, voice small and wrecked. “Please don’t stop, I want it, I want it, I want you.”
James groaned. “Fuck, Regulus.”
He went back down like a man ruined.
His mouth was filthy on him. Sloppy and wet and hungry, tongue dragging through Regulus’s slick, lips closing around his clit, fingers pumping slow and deep before spreading again, scissoring him open while Regulus cried. James’s cock was hard and neglected, aching in his trousers, but he barely cared. It was distant, secondary, some lesser need compared to this. Compared to Regulus shaking under him. Compared to the taste of him. Compared to the mess dripping down James’s hand, down his wrist, onto the sheets.
Regulus pulled at his hair hard enough to make James groan.
“Sorry,” Regulus gasped immediately.
James looked up, eyes blazing. “Do it again.”
Regulus stared down at him, dazed.
James’s tongue flicked over him once.
Regulus yanked his hair.
James moaned straight into his pussy.
Regulus’s eyes rolled back.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You like that.”
James’s mouth was too busy to answer, but his hips pressed down into the bed, chasing friction he did not get, and the sound he made was answer enough.
Regulus laughed weakly, breath hitching, but it collapsed almost instantly into another whine when James sucked harder.
“Jamie,” he pleaded. “Jamie, I’m close again, I’m—oh god, oh god—”
James’s fingers found that spot and stayed there.
Regulus came with James’s name in his mouth.
His whole body seized, thighs locking around James’s head, hips jerking against his face as he squirted again, wet and hot over James’s mouth and chin and fingers. James groaned like he had been rewarded. Like this was what he wanted, exactly this, Regulus soaked and sobbing and open for him, giving him everything, making a mess because James had asked his body so nicely it could not refuse.
Regulus collapsed back onto the bed, shaking.
James licked him through it.
Regulus whimpered, twitching from every touch. “Jamie. Jamie, please. Please, I’m—fuck—I’m so sensitive.”
James kissed his clit, then the slick swollen lips of his pussy, then the inside of his thigh.
“I know,” he whispered.
Regulus blinked down at him through wet lashes.
James’s mouth was still glistening. His hair was a disaster. Regulus had done that. Regulus’s hands had made him look like that. Something about it made another weak pulse of heat roll through him, even though his body was wrung out, aching, trembling, ruined.
James kissed him again, soft and open-mouthed.
Regulus made a helpless noise.
“Still good?” James asked.
Regulus swallowed hard. “Yes.”
James’s eyes darkened.
Regulus’s breath caught. “James.”
“I know.”
“You’re looking at me like that again.”
“Can’t help it.”
Regulus’s thighs shifted around his shoulders. He was too sensitive. He was raw with pleasure. He was dripping onto the sheets. His skin felt fevered everywhere James had touched him.
But James was still between his legs.
Still looking at him like that.
Still under the antlers.
Regulus reached down slowly, fingers trembling as they slid into James’s hair.
James closed his eyes for half a second.
Regulus’s voice came out ruined and sweet.
“Again.”
James’s eyes opened.
“Yeah?”
Regulus nodded, cheeks flushed darker. “Please.”
James exhaled like he had been punched.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re going to kill me.”
Regulus’s lips parted around a soft little whine. “Don’t care.”
James laughed under his breath, low and breathless, and kissed his thigh. “No?”
Regulus shook his head, fingers tightening. “Want your mouth.”
James turned his face and bit gently into the soft inside of Regulus’s thigh, just enough to make him gasp. “Greedy.”
Regulus trembled. “For you.”
James went still.
The room seemed to go still with him.
Then James said, very softly, “Say that again.”
Regulus looked down at him, flushed and shaking and utterly gone.
“For you,” he whispered. “I’m greedy for you.”
James looked wrecked.
Then his mouth was on Regulus again, and whatever tenderness had been there became hunger with teeth.
Regulus cried out immediately, back arching, tattooed antlers lifting as James licked into him with renewed desperation. He was sloppy now, shamelessly so, licking and sucking and groaning like he had forgotten language and manners and the shape of anything but Regulus’s pussy. His fingers slid back inside, two this time, then three, stretching Regulus open again with slick, careful pressure.
Regulus shook around him.
“Yes,” he sobbed. “Yes, yes, Jamie, fuck—”
James’s fingers scissored him slowly, opening him while his tongue worked over his clit in filthy little strokes that made Regulus keen. It was too much. It was perfect. It was James’s mouth and James’s fingers and James’s hands holding him open like he had every right in the world to keep him there.
Regulus rode his face.
He could not help it. His hips moved on their own, rolling into James’s mouth, dragging against his tongue, chasing pressure and heat and the impossible bright edge already building again low in his stomach. James let him. James encouraged it, groaning every time Regulus pushed up, one hand sliding from his hip to his thigh to hold him tighter against his mouth.
“That’s it,” James breathed, barely pulling away. “Use my mouth.”
Regulus whimpered. “Jamie—”
“Use it.”
Regulus’s hand twisted in his hair again.
James moaned.
Regulus rode him harder.
It was obscene. Wet sounds, ragged breathing, James groaning into him, Regulus sobbing over him, the sheets ruined beneath them. The antlers on Regulus’s waist shifted with every desperate roll, crowning James again and again as he buried himself between Regulus’s thighs like there was no place more sacred and no place more sinful.
Regulus was babbling now.
“Please, please, Jamie, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m close, I’m so close, please, I need—fuck—I need—”
James pressed his tongue flat against Regulus’s clit and fucked his fingers into him.
Regulus broke.
He came with a trembling cry, body bowing off the bed, thighs shaking violently around James’s head. Wetness spilled again, slick and hot, and James drank down every second of it, groaning like he was in heaven, like Regulus had opened the gates with his thighs and dragged him inside.
Regulus fell back bonelessly.
This time, James stopped.
Barely.
He kissed Regulus’s pussy once, lingering and soft. Then again. Then again, because restraint was clearly not one of his virtues. Regulus twitched with every kiss, tiny whines slipping out of him, his hand still buried weakly in James’s hair.
“Jamie,” he breathed.
James rested his cheek against Regulus’s thigh and looked up at him.
Regulus looked devastated. Beautiful. Completely undone. His lips were parted, his eyes glassy, his curls damp, his chest flushed. The tattooed antlers on his waist had gone still at last, black ink laid over trembling skin, framing James like a secret only the two of them understood.
James turned his head and kissed beneath one inked branch.
Regulus shivered.
“You knew what you were doing with these,” James murmured.
Regulus blinked slowly. “Maybe.”
James kissed the tattoo again.
Regulus’s breath caught.
“Maybe?” James repeated.
Regulus swallowed, still trembling. “I wanted you to see them.”
James’s hand spread over his hip, thumb brushing just beneath the antler line. “I see them.”
Regulus’s voice went soft. “When you’re there.”
James looked back down at him, and the hunger in his face gentled into something almost dangerous in its tenderness.
“When I’m here?” he asked.
Regulus nodded.
James leaned in and kissed the center of his waist, right between the antlers.
Regulus’s fingers tightened weakly in his hair.
“Then I’ll keep looking,” James said.
Regulus let out a broken little breath. “James.”
James smiled against his skin, then lowered himself slowly back between Regulus’s thighs.
Regulus’s eyes widened.
“Jamie,” he whispered. “Again?”
James kissed his inner thigh, then his hip, then the slick swollen softness of him, gentle enough to make Regulus tremble instead of buck.
“Not stopping,” James murmured.
Regulus’s head fell back, a helpless, needy sound catching in his throat.
James’s mouth returned to him like a promise.
And Regulus, ruined and sweet and still wanting, opened for him again.
prompt: travel ༉ @moonwater-microfic ༉ word count: 596
“you do understand the meaning of packing light, right?” remus questions with a quirked brow.
he stands in the doorway of their shared room in their apartment, clad in grey sweatpants and what looks to be regulus’ old quidditch shirt that’s stretched deliciously over tanned and tattooed arms.
regulus lifts his head from where he’s folding his fourth formal shirt, he glares at remus which only has remus’ mouth ticking up on the side.
“you’ll never know what the occasion could turn into, i can’t turn up at a pureblood gathering in my chiffon blouse, that would be ghastly.” regulus says, completely serious as he looks back down to check whether he should carry another pair of formal shoes.
“we’re only traveling for the weekend…to the coast” remus adds as he walks towards where regulus is sat criss cross in front of his forest green luggage.
“as i said mon amour, there’s no telling what the future could bring. i’d like to be prepared” regulus says without looking up, he tugs out a pair of cotton pants that he squints at before throwing them onto a pile on their bed.
“not a fan?” remus asks dryly as he picks them up and proceeds to fold them neatly before resigning himself to sit next to the pile of clothes to sort them out.
“no, i just won’t have space to carry them if i want to bring my handmade madame malkin’s dress robes” regulus mutters distractedly as he tugs out a pair of socks and a stray slipper before tossing them both aimlessly towards the bed.
the stray slipper hits remus’ thigh which has him huffing indignantly as regulus doesn’t bother to even ask if he’s okay.
“sure why not, i’ll just repack all of the clothes you decide you’d rather not take in favour of wizarding robes you’d likely have no use for in a muggle seaside town” remus mocks as he aggressively folds more of his boyfriends clothes.
regulus shuffles some more before he pokes hesitantly at remus’ shin.
remus huffs again before looking down at the younger man, “what?” he sighs, still slightly miffed by being assaulted by a piece of his partners wardrobe.
regulus pouts, eyes widening and lip quivering in the exact expression he knows remus will crumble for without fail.
“i’m sorry” he whispers softly as he reaches his hand out to tug remus’ hand open to encase their fingers together.
remus sighs good-naturedly as he tugs regulus up to sit him in his lap, arms encasing the dark haired boy as regulus traces the scars running across his face.
“i know you want something, you don’t apologize for nothing” remus points out and regulus pulls back indignantly.
“what a horrible!-“ he starts before he shuts his mouth at remus’ pointed look.
“…i need the extra space in your suitcase” regulus mumbles dejectedly as he looks down.
“for what?” remus prods and regulus avoids eye contact with him.
regulus mumbles something under his breath as he looks around the room in an obvious manner.
remus pokes him in his ribs which has regulus whipping his head to face his boyfriend with a scowl.
“repeat it” remus only states calmly.
“…my dragon hide boots” he says with a pleading expression and remus only shakes his head.
“no.” he replies and regulus looks indignant again.
“remus john lupin i swear to merlin i BOUGHT YOU THAT SUITCASE-” regulus yells as he’s manhandled to sit back on his bed as remus starts to leave the room, ignoring his boyfriend with a smile.
🚨 EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM 🚨
IT'S HAPPENING BESTIES THE SLOW BURN IS BURNING 🔥🔥🔥
play to win (my heart) chapters 23-24 UPDATE ANNOUNCEMENT
screaming crying throwing up sliding down the wall
OKAY SO—
🎮 previously on "these idiots are STILL being professional":
james and regulus were being Very Normal About Each Other™
the tournament was tournamenTING
everyone had eyes except our main characters
professional partnership my ASS
we were all suffering
✨ WHAT'S IN THIS UPDATE YOU ASK??? ✨
vibrating at frequencies that could shatter glass
💬 actual quotes that made me astral project:
"I'm falling for you. Like I have been since that night in my hotel room after the exhibition match"
"I want you. I have for longer than I care to admit."
"Just us. No cameras, no commentators, no analysts tracking our every move."
"Together."
incoherent keysmashing
🏆 THE FINALS ARE TOMORROW AND THEY'RE:
in LOVE your honor
still have to WIN A TOURNAMENT
but they're doing it ✨together✨
alice is Tired™️
marlene is Living Her Best Life
frank is calculating their kiss probability stats
if you're not reading this fic what are you even DOING with your life??? go read it NOW the slow burn has officially BURNED and we're all LIVING FOR IT
Chap. 24 <- GO FORTH AND SUFFER (in the best way)
reblog to save a life (mine, specifically, because i'm DECEASED)
A snippety snip from something I'm writing because I am anxious about Christmas and I want something good and soft and the Black brothers are giving me a good excuse.
TW: mention of hospitals and tubes.
“Sirius”, Regulus calls carefully as if he doesn’t want to interrupt whatever Sirius is doing. But his brother lifts his eyes on him immediately. “You know you don’t have to come”.
Sirius puts down the calendar and walks to the other side of the desk, leaning against the surface. He searches for his brother’s eyes before speaking. “I don’t have to, but I want to”.
“Yes, but your client–”.
“Fuck the client! It’s just a fucking tattoo, he can get it later or another day. You are more important”.
Regulus looks down, a feeling surrounding his ribcage that makes it difficult to keep looking at Sirius. It’s good and strange, something he’s not used to and he doesn’t know how to act around it, how to make it settle and feel normal about it.
“I–”, he starts, just to stop in search of the words and for the courage to give voice to what he is thinking right now. “I’m used to going alone, it’s not a big of a deal. I just go there, change the tube and go home”.
He looks up again only to find Sirius shaking his head, a soft gleam in his eyes. “I know you’re used to it but you don’t have to do it alone, okay? I’ll drive you to the hospital, I’ll wait for you and then I’ll drive you back home. Unless you don’t want me there, that’s totally fine. But… If you want me there and if it would be better for you to have someone then I’m coming”.
Regulus draws his lips in a thin line. The thing is he wants Sirius there with him. He wants to have someone to lean on, to be there for him, to take care of him. He likes having some kind of comfort, someone who is willing to stand by him and check on his well-being, no matter the tough facade he can put on.
So, Regulus looks at his brother and with a bit of hesitancy replies. “I want you there”.
He looked up at you, smiling tiredly. Your hands in his hair, playing with his curls lightly.
“I’m sorry for taking so long, I couldn’t get out of that damn house.” He said, sighing softly. You looked down at him in your lap, giving him a small smile, your hair falling into your face slightly. The boy reached his hand up, pushing the hair behind your ear.
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize, you know that.” You told him, a slight flush appearing on your cheeks from the gesture. “I’m just glad you were able to make it, Love.” Your hand glided down to his cheek, caressing his cheek bone lightly.
He relaxed in your hand, closing his eyes, letting out a relieved breath. “I missed you so much, you know that. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Regulus muttered, only for you to hear, although you two were the only ones in the flower field.
These were the moments you craved for. The moments that only you and him knew about. The times you could just relax and know everything was okay because he was there. You kissed his other cheek softly, letting it linger for a couple seconds before pulling away, looking back down at him.
You watched the breeze lightly run through your boyfriend's hair and the pink flowers around him, his blue eyes and dark hair contrasting against the light color. “Reg.” You whispered softly, making the boy open his eyes, tilting his head to look at you.
You leaned down, rubbing your nose against his lightly, smiling softly, “I love you, always know that.” You told him, kissing his nose.
He smiled up at you with an adorable look on his face, reaching his hands up, cupping both your cheeks, pulling you into a deep kiss. It was soft yet assuring, letting you know that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “I love you too, to the moon and back.” He said against your lips.
You giggled softly, going back in to kiss him, getting lost in the man that you love.
Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?
Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.
Notes: No real notes today! I hope you enjoy. This story took a “lighter tone” than I expected (at least I hadn’t expected it to, maybe you did ! aha!) but I actually like writing happier stories so I guess my brain just went “cowabummer bro, you’re writing some happy fiction even if you didn’t want to”
Enjoy
***
"Where are we going?" (y/n) asks.
Regulus felt a bit relieved that (y/n) agreed to come along on his little surprise trip. After last night, which he now realized was a complete mistake, he wasn't sure that his wife would willingly agree to go out in public with him. Especially if he promised some sort of surprise.
She hadn't asked him any questions until they were walking outside, her arm tucked nicely within his. Like it was meant to be there.
"If I told you, it would ruin the surprise." Regulus glances over at his wife. She's got a deep frown on her face. It doesn't exactly mar her beautiful face, but it reminds him a bit too much of his mother's annoyed expression. "Just trust me."
Her little huff of annoyance he decides is enough of a response.
Regulus tries to think of Sirius's advice. Get to know (y/n), even the small things he personally thought were unnecessary to know about a person-- moot things about her. And in turn, be vulnerable enough to share small things back.
"So-- uh, (y/n)."
"Yes?" she looks at him with confusion in her eyes.
"I thought we ought to try and start fresh."
"Fresh?"
"I don't know how else to move from here if we don't have a clean slate."
"I hardly think that would work."
Merlin-- "(y/n)," he stops, halting her as well, "I said I would try to give you what you want. If you shut me down, there's no chance I can."
She gives him a look, "Regulus--"
"Listen," he inhales, collecting himself, "I'm not good at this. You'll have to be patient with me, but I'm willing to figure this out. And I probably won't--" He pauses, "I probably will mess up, a lot. But, please. Give me a chance."
(y/n) studies his face, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I understand that I'm asking you to step outside of your comfort zone, and I appreciate that you're being open with me."
Regulus smiles, muttering, "Sirius was right." Under his breath.
"What?" (y/n) asks.
"Nothing." Regulus takes her hand in his, "this can be like our first date."
(y/n) smiles, amused, "this is silly--"
"I was serious last night that I will try."
"No pretending. You swear you will not pretend with me?"
"That's why I am asking that we start fresh. Give me a chance. I'm not good at this-- relationships. I need time and patience."
She seems to contemplate his words, "Okay. But--"
"Yes?"
(y/n) looks down at her feet for a moment before looking at him again, "If we're going to-- start over, it needs to be slower."
"Slower?" He frowns. What the devil is she talking about, slower?
"I mean," (y/n) purses her lips, "I mean that it has to feel like we're actually starting a new relationship."
Regulus chuckles, "you want me to court you?"
(y/n) smiles, "if those are the words you think describes what we are trying to do, then yes. I think I would like you to court me."
Now he feels silly making the suggestion because he has no idea what courting entails. He can barely flirt!
"I mean-- I can try."
(y/n) grins. He's at a loss for words. Not once in the time he's known her-- been married to her, has he seen her look this happy. Clearly, Sirius's advice was half-decent. For the first time since (y/n) walked down the aisle towards him, he felt something. Hopefully, the beginning of something great between them.
***
"You brought me to— the Eiffel tower?" (Y/n) looks up towards the cloudy sky.
Regulus flushes, "It's not just the Eiffel Tower."
(Y/n) laughs, "it looks like it's just the Eiffel Tower—"
"Just—"Regulus lets out a frustrated sound, "it's more than that." He pulls her towards one of the legs of the metal tower. He supposes that enough muggles are wandering around that they wouldn't notice the disappearance of the young couple. He pulls his wand out of thin air, tapping where the witch at the hotel told him to. The metal of the tower seems to melt and twist, magically revealing an entrance.
"What—"(y/n) grips his hand tighter, "I had no idea."
"Neither did I. It's called Caché à la Vue," Regulus grins, "c'mon, Mrs. Black."
They walk through the entrance, the metal contorting back into shape behind them.
In front of them, a bustling street moves around them. Wizards and Witches bustle around carrying cauldrons, brooms, and colorful bags holding other wizarding tools. A group of young girls rushes by, giggling in their blue Beauxbaton school uniforms.
"Oh— it feels like Diagon Alley," (y/n) comments as she steps closer to him, her shoulder bumping his arm as she squeezes his hand.
Regulus nods, keeping her close as they walk further into the crowd.
"I didn't expect it to be like this," he glances at (y/n). She's looking around with interest at the many shops and people.
"Let's go in here," she's pulling him towards a shop that smells of lavender and sage. The shop is small but comforting with its earthy color scheme and almost luminescent glow.
"Oh wow," (y/n) detaches herself from him for the first time since crossing into Caché à la Vue. Regulus watches her poke around the shop, always keeping a two-foot distance from her.
(y/n) seems to notice the hovering, "Why are you-- being so weird?" She's got an amused smile on her face. Regulus tries to relax, stepping a foot closer.
"I'm just giving you space."
"Don't you want to look too?" (y/n) beckons him closer, reaching for his hand. He obliges his wife, letting her point out small trinkets and items.
***
The busy street of Caché à la Vue frames Regulus as I sit across from him. Once we had explored nearly every shop on the busy street, Regulus had tugged me towards one of the little Bistros, mumbling about it being a recommendation or something of that sort. I didn't fight his insistence to stop and eat. I hadn't had much for breakfast or lunch back at the hotel.
The afternoon hadn't been awful. In fact, I was enjoying myself more than I expected. It only partly-- honestly, completely, had to do with the sudden changes in how Regulus and I interacted. He suddenly was more sociable and curious about who I was. Which was sort of confusing, but at this moment, I felt more confident in our marriage. That maybe we did have a chance to fall in love, or even just co-exist happily together. If co-existing was all that could come from this, then I wished it to be at least a peaceful union.
Yet, I want to know him as much as he seems to suddenly want to know me, so I ask questions about his childhood and his life. At first, he seems reserved to answer some of my inquiries, making me more curious about the information he is holding back from me.
"So--" I set down my teacup, "how was it like growing up in Grimmauld Place?"
This seems to be another question he hesitates over as he stares down at his plate for a full thirty seconds, making me nervous.
"Do you want the truth?"
I stiffen. The tone of his voice has me wondering if it was a good question to ask after all, "I would if you don't mind answering."
Regulus takes another moment to collect his thoughts, "I don't really remember much before going to school. My parents are-- you can probably tell they are not the friendliest of people." The understatement of the century. "They weren't good parents, if I'm being honest."
"What do you mean?" I suddenly feel uncomfortable as I continue down this path.
"(y/n), maybe this isn't a conversation for public." Merlin, that only makes me want to press for more information, but the look on his face tells me all I need to know at this moment. He will tell me the truth, but if he's more comfortable doing so behind closed doors, who am I to push him for an answer right now?
"Is it that bad?" I do feel a bit sick over how he's reacting to this question.
He looks down at his hands before looking back at me. His eyes are back to the icy grey I know so well. "It's not great." I have to look away from his eyes. "Do you know I have an older brother?"
"But--" Regulus is the Heir? How could he have--?
"Sirius was disowned when he was sixteen, effectively passing the burden of the House of Black to me."
"Do you still-- are you still in contact with him--Sirius?"
"I am, but privately. Walburga wouldn't approve. She likes to think that Sirius never existed in the first place."
"That's horrible!" I couldn't imagine pretending one's child never existed-- "what did Sirius do?"
"He ran away after refusing-- well refusing to do what we have done, I suppose." I stare at Regulus, shocked.
"I mean, he didn't-- doesn't believe in the Pureblood idealogy."
I pause, reflecting for a moment on his words. Is he saying Sirius ran away when his parents tried to make a match between himself and some Pureblood girl?
"Are you saying he ran away from an arranged marriage?" Regulus nods.
Merlin's-- He was only sixteen? "Your parents, they really tried to-- he was so young--?"
Regulus nods, "Too young, I know." Not that I felt the ages we were are any more acceptable, but sixteen? He would've been in the middle of school! Just a kid!
"I can't blame him for running away--" I let the words slip without thinking, quickly feeling guilty for saying such a thing to the man I'm married to. The man I married for the same reason his brother left the exclusive circle we exist within. "No offense, of course--"
Instead of looking offended or getting angry, how I expect, Regulus laughs. A real genuine laugh.
"It's not that funny, Regulus!" The words had just slipped out of my mouth before my brain processed my rudeness.
"You are exactly like Sirius. It's freakish." He grins.
"What does that mean?" I'm hopeful he's complimenting me.
Regulus takes my hand in his over the table, "You just remind me of him. Both of you are unapologetically yourselves. I envy that."
I want to tell him I'm nothing like his brother. Sirius was able to leave the life we grew up in. I clearly didn't have the balls to leave. But, I don't want to say that, not when we're getting along so well right now.
"You can be unapologetically yourself, Regulus."
His smile is small as he looks down at our intertwined fingers, "I'm afraid I can't be. At least not publically."
"I can't exactly be publically myself either, especially now, but maybe in private, yeah? When it's just us."
He gently lifts my hand up to tenderly press a kiss to my knuckles. My breath hitches at the suddenness of his actions, and I feel suddenly warm. "When it's just us." His agreement, the tone of his voice when he agrees-- it's incredibly intimate.
Dumbly, I nod. Regulus smiles, kindness reaching his eyes and thawing out the ice they held earlier.
After a beat of silence, one I could not find words to fill, Regulus speaks. "Was there anything else you wanted to see?"
I find my voice, at last, saying I did not believe so.
***
I felt delirious with desire watching her squirm after my lips left her knuckles.
Something about (y/n) fascinated me and made me want her, all of her. I knew she felt the same way, even after the way our relationship started. I could tell by the way her lips parted and her breath hitched that she felt that spark between us.
That spark gave me some hope that everything was going to turn out just fine.
