deararcturus
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“Well, you’re my type. Talented, intelligent,” James goes on while holding eye contact. “Pretty.”
The blush has reached the tips of Regulus’s ears that peek out from his hair. His brows are furrowed and the slight pout on his lips is driving James insane.
“I don’t-”
“Too bad I’m not your type though,” James says with a dramatic sigh of disappointment. "Really unfortunate.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus huffs, grabbing the drink in front of him. He sips, looking everywhere but at James before setting it back down. He wipes the cup’s condensation off his hand and onto a napkin. “I don’t have time for this.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
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Regulus's life is already falling apart when his poetry journal lands in the hands of James Potter, a man who is nothing but determined to give him hell for it. James gets completely ahead of himself and learns that doing so comes with consequences
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When Regulus Black decides to try on a skirt, he discovers several interesting things about himself….and James.
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Lavender eyes and dark black hair. Shikamaru can’t seem to take his eyes off him.
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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.”