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Summary
Regulus’ tongue is a pink flash as it darts out. Carefully, he dips it inside the barrel.
James’ hands are shaking. His gaze is heated, trained resolutely on Regulus’ mouth, the spit dribbling out around it, the crimson staining his cheeks. He watches Regulus’ damp lashes flutter softly, as tears prick at the edges of his eyes.
James does not shoot. He does not press the trigger. He just watches Regulus, as he puts on a show- just for him.
OR: James is an assassin, sent to kill Crown prince Regulus Black. Things don’t go as planned, and they fuck instead.
It only gets worse from there.