Work Text:
June 1st, 1978
“Where are you going?” Regulus closed his book carefully, finger stuck between the pages to keep his place.
“Out. Why?” Barty carded his fingers through his hair and tucked his tank top into his jeans, spinning in front of the mirror before walking towards the exit to the house.
“Curious.”
Barty hummed, “Do I look okay?”
Regulus’ brows furrowed, “You're going to meet someone?”
“Is it a crime for a man to care about his appearance, Reggie?”
“I thought you said you were done seeing other people,” Regulus stood from his place on the armchair, setting his book on the cushions and going to fix the belt Barty was wearing.
Barty watched his fingers move curiously, “I thought you said you didn't care.”
“I don't.”
“It doesn't seem like it.”
“Fuck off, Barty,” Regulus rolled his eyes and walked away.
“I’m just saying!” Barty called after him, hand cupped around his mouth, exiting the opposite way.
✧.*
“Can I come in?” Barty’s hesitant whisper sounded through the doorway, the waves of the French coast crashing against the rocks outside of Black Manor.
Regulus sighed, socked feet touching the cold wooden floors as he walked over and removed the charm from his door. Barty turned the doorknob and opened it, wrapping his arms around Regulus and burying his head into the boy's neck, inhaling.
“What do you want?” Regulus tangled his long fingers in Barty’s curls, scratching at his scalp as Barty sighed contently.
“Kiss me.”
“No,” Regulus smiled while the other wasn't looking.
Barty pulled away and began to pout, “Why not?”
“We’re fighting right now. I'm mad at you.”
“Oh, right,” the two stood silently, “Doesn't that make it more fun?”
“Barty,” Regulus was between a scoff and a laugh, rolling his eyes.
“C'mon, love. Kiss me,” Barty pulled Regulus by the string of his pajama pants, catching his waist with his other arm as their hips met.
Regulus looked up through his eyelashes with a small smile on his face. He placed a chaste kiss on Barty’s lips and began to retreat into his room.
He was spun back around, lips crashing into Barty’s full force. His hand reached up to the doorframe to stable himself before Barty hoisted him up by the thighs, legs wrapping around his waist.
“Fuck,” Regulus said between kisses, “you don't know how to take no for an answer.”
Barty pulled away with a grin, “I take anything you let me, sweetheart. That just happens to be a lot.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and lowered himself to the ground, hands lingering on Barty’s shoulders for a moment before turning and crawling back into bed. Barty stood in the doorway, smirking.
“What?”
“You're so beautiful.”
“I'm literally just lying in bed.”
“The way you move, Reg. The way you speak. The way you want me, and the way you push it away.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and turned in the sheets, skin sticking to skin in the heat of the summer, “How poetic.”
“Anyone can be Shakespeare if they're in love.”
“Go to sleep, Barty.”
Barty spun on his heel, two fingers reaching up in a lazy salute as he walked away. The door clicked shut and Regulus was left with the ghost of a blush on his face and bruising lips.
✧.*
Twenty minutes later, a knock returned at Regulus’ door. He sighed, annoyed, and stomped lightly over to let Barty in.
“Back for more?”
“I locked myself out.”
“Pity.”
Barty swallowed, “Can I sleep here?”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Regulus replied, “If my parents see us–”
“They won't. Please?”
Regulus pursed his lips and stepped aside, letting Barty pass by him and begin to rummage around his room looking for enough blankets to be comfortable on the floor.
“Take the bed. You're moving too much. Being too loud,” Regulus pushed him aside at the entrance to the closet, delicately pulling a puffy blanket and a pillow from the space.
“You were louder last night.”
“Last night you had your wand,” Regulus huffed through his nose as he arranged the blanket, fluffing it until it resembled the shape of a deformed mattress. As he sprawled out on the makeshift bedding, Barty plopped down next to him.
“Wouldn't it be fun? Trying to stay quiet,” Barty pressed on Regulus’ shoulder, moving him from laying on his elbows to flat on his back.
“Barty,” Regulus warned, slotting his knee between Barty’s legs as the boy moved to lean over him.
“I'm just saying,” Barty took Regulus’ chin between his fingers, “it would be fun to see how long you last.”
They stayed for a moment, Barty leaning on his one arm, looking into each other's eyes. Their lips were nearly grazing but never touched.
Regulus finally spoke, a whisper, “We should sleep.”
Barty pouted, “I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I'll sleep on the floor, darling.”
“It's fine, Barty. I did this all the time when I was younger.”
“I'm invading your house and your room. The least I could do would be to let you sleep in your own bed.”
Regulus let Barty’s hands grab around his waist, hoisting him up effortlessly from the shoddy bed to the real one. He ignored the butterflies in his stomach and snaked his fingers into the neck of Barty’s shirt, pulling him onto the bed as well.
“So stubborn.”
Regulus bit his lip. “You love it.”
“Guilty. You're my fucking kryptonite, Regulus.”
The two met in a heated kiss, moving seamlessly with one another. Barty exhaled with a smile as Regulus shifted to be on top of him.
“Want to know something funny?”
“Absolutely.”
“I can't even remember why I was mad at you,” Regulus placed his hands on Barty’s ribs and sat, staring at the red of his lips and the hint of sweat on his forehead.
“Want to know something better?”
“Alright.”
“I remember everything I've ever done with you. Every word, every sound, every touch,” Barty traced his hands along the sliver of skin he could access from where Regulus’ (Barty’s) shirt hung. Regulus shivered at his touch even in the heat.
“I doubt that.”
“The day I met you you were wearing a black turtleneck sweater. Sirius had drawn cobwebs on your hands and I remember thinking you were the prettiest boy I’d ever seen, which was weird because boys aren't supposed to be pretty.”
“I stand corrected,” Regulus smiled softly at him, leaning down to wrap his arms around Barty’s neck and kissing him sweetly, “Your tongue is pierced. I didn't know you did that.”
Barty chuckled, “How? I've had my mouth on you for days straight.”
“I guess I was just too happy to notice,” Regulus kissed Barty’s neck quickly before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. Barty sighed and pushed his face into Regulus’ curls, hiding the blush on his face.
✧.*
The yellow light of the morning sun peeked through the dusty glass of Regulus’ bedroom window. His eyelashes fluttered as he woke, squinting his eyes shut to remind him of the night before.
Barty’s warm fingers were still pressed into Regulus’ hips, hard enough to leave brief discoloration when he removed his hands. His neck tingled slightly from the marks Barty had left on it, and his head throbbed from lack of sleep.
“Good morning, angel. How did you sleep?” Barty rubbed the pad of his thumb on Regulus’ cheekbone, tracing over the beauty marks and freckles drawn out from time in the sun. Regulus only grunted in response, rolling off of him and landing clumsily on his feet.
Barty watched like an animal hunting its prey as Regulus walked around collecting clothes. There was such beauty in his simplicity, changing from a shirt to a sweater and boxers into shorts, the scars on his chest stretching as his hands went over his head. Barty had kissed them before, and he longed to do it again.
“What are you doing?” Regulus said as he pulled the sweater over his head, curls ruffled by sleep and fabric pulling them every which way.
“I’m looking at you.”
“Oh, you'll have to do better than that. I'm not a Fifth Year.”
Barty stood, tripping over the sheets as he sauntered over to Regulus, “I’m touching you.”
Regulus looked away, biting his lip, while Barty’s hands trailed up his sweater and down his waistline.
“I’m kissing you,” Barty’s voice was still laced with the raspiness of sleep as his lips trailed from Regulus’ forehead to his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, then his mouth.
Then Barty dropped to his knees, mouth inching close to Regulus’ zipper, “I’m–”
“Barty. No.”
Barty only smiled up at him, pulling on the sleeve of his sweater to bring him into another kiss, “I want to show you something.”
“I think I've seen it all by now. You're quite the adventurer.”
“Not in here. Let's get out of the house. It's all the same fucking color. It's depressing.”
“My mom spent fortunes painting this place off-white. Be grateful. It used to be green,” Regulus allowed himself to be scooped up by the knees and back, carried bridal style to the exit of his bedroom before being set down and following Barty out the door.
The broken pathway to the beach was anything but pleasant. The planks were splintered from age and the salt of the sea, and the sand burned under their feet. Barty paused where the sand began to wet, turning to face Regulus and smiling.
“So…”
“So?”
“What did you want to show me, Barty?”
Barty glanced to the waves, then back to Regulus, “The ocean.”
“The… ocean.”
“Yes.”
Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, “You brought me all the way out here… to show me the ocean? The ocean next to my beach house?”
“It's more of a mansion, actually.”
“You're ridiculous. I'm going inside.”
“Regulus, wait.”
The boy turned, “Why did you bring me here?”
Barty hesitated, “Your eyes look so pretty in the sunlight.”
“Barty, I ca–”
“You know when you argue with someone and they're the last person you want to see? Then they start to pop up everywhere. That's you. I see you in the mirror, in the air, the bed I wake up in. I see you in my life for a long, long time, Regulus. Give that to me.”
“You're saying I'm the last person you want to see..?”
Barty sighed with a smile, “I’m saying I'm in love with you.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
“So… is that a yes?”
Regulus wrapped his arms around Barty’s neck and kissed him, “No.”
“No?”
“You'll have to try harder than that, love.”
Barty closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Regulus, tugging on the boy’s lip with his teeth, “Call me that again.”
“Love.”
“I adore you, Reg.”
“I know,” Regulus pulled away, turning back and walking across the beach, indented footprints in his wake, “Show me.”
Barty’s smile fell charmingly open as he ran his fingers through his hair then down his flushed cheeks, “As you wish.”
The two took off across the sand, joyful and tanned and beautifully infatuated.