starchase
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It was Halloween’s Eve at Hogwarts, and James Potter planned a perfect prank to celebrate the spooky holiday. Too bad that the prank had gone wrong and ended up turning his friend’s little brother into a gloomy black cat. It was only fair that James would take responsibility and help Regulus go back to normal. What could possibly go wrong?
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Regulus bit the inside of his lip. He didn’t know what to say to this. In all honesty, he never thought he would’ve made it this far in talking about this, if so he would’ve written down a list of demands.
“Come to bed earlier and have a meal with me once in a while. It doesn’t have to be every day just sometimes and…”
“And?” James repeated.
“Touch me. You haven’t touched me in forever. Fuck your homework. Touch me.”
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Acissmus •
(n) a feigned refusal of something earnestly desired, sometimes viewed as a virtue or a vice.Or
Remus, Sirius, James, and Regulus find themselves in quite the predicament. Two rooms, but both with just one bed. Because James is a gentleman, he didn’t intend to fuck his best friend’s little brother. But Regulus is a horny little shit with a talent for hearing James’ thoughts.
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It just sort of happens. The way it spills out at dinner. "I'm dating James Potter." Sirius, of course, refuses to believe James and Regulus could ever be a thing. And he's determined to find out the truth.
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"Everything's fine," responded Regulus, but something dangerous flashed in his gray eyes. "James, let me go."
"No."
This word sounded so decisive that even James himself was surprised. He had never said "no" to Regulus. Always compromised, always tried to smooth over rough edges, avoid conflict. But now something primitive, animal, rose in him, drowning out the voice of reason.
"We're leaving," he added, not loosening his grip.
"Listen, buddy," Alexander took a step forward, and his hand landed on Regulus's shoulder in a protective gesture. "Seems like the guy doesn't want to leave with you."
James saw a red haze before his eyes. A stranger's hand on Regulus, a possessive gesture.
"Take your hands off him," he hissed, taking a step toward Alexander. "Now."
"Or what?" Alexander smirked, not removing his hand. "Who are you anyway? His bodyguard?"
"I'm the one who'll smash your face if you don't back off," James's voice turned low and threatening. He felt blood pounding in his temples, his hands clenching into fists. "Last warning."