Chapter Text
James
“So your brother may or may not be onto me—”
Oof.
My words are cut off as Reggie tugs me into his room and slams the door shut behind me. I don’t have time to say anything else before he’s pulling me towards his bed in a rushed frenzy.
“We don’t have long.” His breath is already shallow, “I’m meeting Lockhart in an hour.”
Wait.
What?
“What about our study sess—”
But I don’t get to finish, because then his mouth finds mine, and suddenly I don’t give a shit about anything because he’s kissing me.
Fuck.
His tongue brushes against mine, and I groan into his mouth, the sound low and guttural as heat surges through my body. He grinds up; hard, desperate, needy…and fuck it. My crutch crashes to the floor as my knees hit the mattress, and I’m on him in a heartbeat, pressing him down and caging him in with my body.
“Yes.” He sighs as I rock my hips against his with just as much hunger, chasing that friction as our cocks strain through the layers of fabric.
“Reggie,” I breathe, barely more than a whisper, but it’s laced with complete and utter heat.
God fucking damn him, he makes me crazy.
Makes me act crazy.
He thrusts into me, and I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down just enough to make him moan as I press myself flush against him.
“Off,” he groans, tugging at the hem of my (his) T-shirt like the fact that it’s still on is offending him. And when I don’t move fast enough, he yanks it again, harder.
I chuckle against his mouth, amused at his impatience, before pulling back just long enough to strip it over my head and toss it to the floor.
“We can study tomorrow,” he murmurs, lips swollen. “But right now, I need…”
I know exactly what he needs.
And then I claim his lips again.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
He ruts into me, hands clawing at my back before choking on a breath and repeating his earlier demand.
“Off.” But he’s trying to wiggle out of his own clothes this time.
“So bossy,” I groan, once again pulling back to drag his shirt up and over his head before chucking it somewhere across the room. And when I turn back to face him, I nearly cry in delight. Because…ho-ly shit. He’s so pretty, it almost hurts.
It feels like it’s been forever since I saw him like this. Half-naked, skin flushed, lips parted, and eyes dark with want. And for a second, I just need to look. To take him in.
Sunday, we didn’t get this far. We kissed. Talked. Held each other until we fell asleep, and that was more than enough. I just wanted to be near him. And I think he just wanted to be near me.
And sure, he gave me an incredible blowjob on Monday (after I answered all eight of his stupid revision questions correctly), but it was rushed. Clothes half-on, half-off. Like we were racing the clock.
But now?
Now we have time. (Well, an hour.)
Now I can do this properly.
Now I can devour him.
“Fuck,” I groan, almost to myself, before I lean down and press kisses to his chest; first his collarbone, then the dip between his pecs, then lower, finding that small dust of freckles just under his ribs. My fingers skate along the ridges of his stomach, rough calluses against his soft skin, and I can’t stop touching.
Don’t want to stop touching.
So I don’t.
When my mouth finds one of his nipples, his hands tighten in my hair immediately, and I keep going, kissing lower, hands sliding down until I reach the bulge beneath his trousers.
“James,” he whines, arching towards me. “Come on.”
I grin around his chest and kiss my way back up, then reach for his belt as his tongue once again finds my own, and I’m groaning when I realise–
He’s gone commando.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe, sitting back to take him in again as I slowly lower his jeans, inch by inch.
I blink a few times, mouth open like a damn dog, before my eyes lift back to his flushed face, and I can’t help the next words that come out of my mouth.
“God damn it, Reggie. I’m starving.”
There’s a moment of silence before he tilts his head to the side, purses his lips and squints at me.
“Was that– are you dirty talking me?”
My lips quirk before they turn into a full grin. “Do you like it?” And then I waste no time in tugging the rest of his trousers off.
“No,” he deadpans, then points at my trousers. “Less of those.” Then at my mouth. “And less of that.”
I snort, shaking my head as I angle myself better to do just as he asks.
Less talking, more undressing.
“Yes, sir.”
He mumbles something under his breath and stretches out against the pillows while I shimmy out of the jeans. I can feel his gaze on me, heavy and hot, as I fumble with the buttons, and what should be a ten-second job turns into twenty, but I don’t care.
Let him look.
By the time I’m fully naked, I turn back to him, ready to get going – only to freeze when he nods towards the side of the bed.
“On the stand.”
His voice is soft, his cheeks pink, and when I turn to look at what he’s talking about, my mouth goes dry.
“What?”
He swallows, voice low as he huffs at me. “The lube. Grab it.”
My heart stumbles into overdrive as I glance between the small bottle and him, heat blooming beneath my skin as realisation sets in.
“You…you want me to–”
“Yes.”
Oh fuck.
There was no hesitation in that. Does he really want to–
Before my brain can fully combust, he lets out a noise; somewhere between a sigh and a frustrated groan, as he stretches over to snatch the bottle himself.
“Guess I’ll get it.”
Then he’s thrusting the lube into my hands, and all I can do is sit there, staring down at the bottle like it’s going to explode. Like it might detonate right here and take both of us with it.
I blink, letting out a slow, shaky breath, and try – really fucking hard – not to panic.
“I–”
Because I don’t know what I’m doing.
“Uh–”
At all.
My fingers fumble with the plastic on the lid as I clear my throat and cock my head at the thing. “Guess I’ll just… get right to it, then.”
Reggie doesn’t say anything. Just watches me with those unblinking grey eyes of his….which I’m usually all for, but right now? It’s really fucking unhelpful.
In fact, it’s making me ten times more nervous. Eleven times even. Maybe twelve.
And I start internally berating myself when my hands struggle to open the damn thing.
Come on, James. Don’t be an idiot. You’ve got this. You’ve absolutely–probably –got this.
I square my shoulders, trying to summon every shred of confidence I’ve ever had; the same confidence that helps me walk into a goal like I own the fucking pitch, and be the sex god I know Reggie needs me to be. But when I once again try and fail to tear off the plastic seal, it slips right through my fingers.
“This is…” I mutter, “Annoying.”
Still no response from Reggie. Just concentrated silence.
And even though I imagine I must look like a bumbling idiot, the fact that I’m even having to open a new bottle, the thought of him buying this –for right now, makes my insides melt, and I let out a shy smile.
“Did you get this for us?”
I peer down at him, but he still doesn’t speak. Just blinks at the bottle in my hands with a peculiar look on his face.
Okay then.
I try again, gripping it tighter, twisting it roughly, but still nothing.
“Reggie, I don’t have nails,” I whine, wrestling with it. “I can’t get this dumb thing off.”
“Just use your—”
My brow furrows as I try twisting it the other way. “It won’t–”
“Oh my god.”
He sits up, snatches it from my hands, and rips the seal off with his teeth before tossing it back at me.
“There.”
I may never recover.
“Thanks,” I mutter, flipping the cap open and turning the bottle. But then… I hesitate again.
Good god, I’m hopeless.
I’m fucking this up so much.
“…So. Uh.” I scratch the back of my neck as I glance at him. “What now?”
His brow furrows. “What do you mean, ‘what now’? Use it.”
Use it?
“On what?”
His lips part. “What do you mean?”
I let out a choked sound as I stutter. “On you? On me?” I gesture vaguely between us. “And… where exactly?”
He grimaces.
Oh no, I’m spiralling.
I’m being the absolute furthest thing from a sex god right now –and instead of rocking his entire world, I’m standing here clutching a bottle of lube like it’s a cursed artefact.
“On…both of us?” He asks, almost bewildered at me.
I let out a loose breath as I grip the bottle tighter, trying to explain my wayward thoughts so he can stop looking at me like I’ve grown two heads.
“Okay, yeah. It’s just that we haven’t… talked about this,” I mutter. “Like… this this. It’s always been hands and mouths. And I just—”
His eyes quickly drop to the bottle before lifting back to meet my gaze, and there’s a look of worry on his face.
Oh shit.
I’m ruining it.
“Which has been amazing,” I clarify quickly, just in case he thinks I’m complaining about that. “But I’m not entirely sure if you want me to use this on you, or on myself, so you can—”
“Okay, stop talking,” he says, before lifting up and taking the bottle from my hands.
“I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. I thought we could just… take the next step, and you’d do whatever felt right. But if you’re not ready—”
“I am,” I blurt, horrified he could ever think otherwise. “I am ready. And I want to. I really, really want to.”
His eyes flick down to my chest, then back up again.
“But I want to know what you want,” I say quietly. “Not just what I want. I want this to be good for both of us.”
He chews his lip, exhaling like he’s not sure what to think.
“You do?”
“Yes.” I move closer to him, pressing my forehead against his as I let out a long sigh. “I can barely keep it together with how much I want you, Reggie. I just… don’t want to mess it up.”
And when I blink open my eyes, I see his lips curl.
“I want to be that confident, sexy, knows-exactly-what-he’s-doing kind of guy, but I’m…” I let out a breathy laugh, “…a little out of my depth here.”
“I thought you’d at least know the basics,” he murmurs, voice teasing but quiet.
I chuckle as I cup his jaw and tilt his face towards me. “I know some basics. Thank you very much.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “But you’ve been the one showing me what to do this whole time. You’re the expert here.”
His smile falters, but I smile anyway.
“I like to think I’ve been a fast learner,” I trace his cheek with my thumb, “but only because I’m so into you. Being with you feels… easy. Natural. But I still don’t know where your lines are, what you’re fully comfortable with.” I hesitate, then admit, “It’s a little different with a woman.”
Something shifts behind his eyes, something I don’t fully understand, and I swallow thickly, brushing my fingers along his jaw.
“…Reg?”
He doesn’t answer, so I keep going. Keep explaining.
“I don’t mind what we do. Honestly, I’ll love anything, as long as it’s with you.” I let out a breath. “If you want me to be the top, or the bottom, or… I don’t know, hang from the bedpost –I’ll try it.”
And I mean it. Even though nothing’s ever gone near my arse in my entire life, I already know if it’s Reggie touching me, I’ll like it.
“But the thing is, I don’t know what you like. Or what you want. Or if you’ve even figured it out yet. You might like both. You can be verse, right? Are you?”
That’s when he looks away completely. Like I’ve said something completely wrong.
“Reg?”
Nothing.
“Reggie? Talk to me.”
His neck flushes, and his hands twist in the sheets. I watch him count a breath, two, three – and I don’t rush him, even though my heart is thudding wildly in my chest.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Reg, if you don’t want to talk about–”
But then he lets out a shaky noise as he whispers, almost too quietly to hear,
“I… I don’t know what I prefer.”
I blink.
“What?”
His voice is quiet. So small that I have to lean in to hear him, and when I do, I almost think I didn’t hear him at all. Because–
“You’re the first person I’ve… ever done anything with.”
My stomach drops.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
And then swoops.
“Or anything,” he adds quietly. “Like, ever.”
Because…what?!
I sit back on my heels, stunned almost into silence as he finally turns to look at me. “You mean…”
He nods like he knows where my thoughts have gone. “Yep. My first everything. Well—” his mouth twitches “—not my first kiss. Sorry.”
I just stare at him, and he shrugs, vulnerable now in a way I’ve never seen before. “But everything else? The rest of it? Was you. It’s all been you.”
And something explodes in my chest. A firework, a supernova, a sunrise I wasn’t expecting, and I’m speechless.
Utterly gone.
Until he mumbles, “Have I ruined it? You probably want someone who knows what they’re doing, and I’m just some lame, untouched—”
“No.” I cut him off instantly, grabbing his face in both hands. “No. You couldn’t ruin this even if you tried.”
I kiss him softly. “You’re perfect, Regulus.” I kiss him again. “Just as you are.”
He relaxes slightly, and I stroke my thumb along his cheekbone, searching his eyes as a hundred memories flicker through my mind. Every look. Every kiss. Every breath we’ve shared up to this point.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
He winces, pulling a face that very clearly says, as if I wanted to admit that, and I huff out a laugh, shaking my head.
“You’re unbelievable.”
But there’s no heat in my voice. Just awe. And something that feels dangerously close to–
“But how? You so bossy?”
He lets out a loud laugh, burying his face in my neck as he curls himself into me.
“You are,” I tease, laughing with him now. “So fucking demanding. Ordering me around like some kind of horny little drill sergeant.”
Look at me.
Use your hand.
Slower.
No, slower.
Now finish it.
“That’s just… my default,” he mutters as I poke him on his side, making him groan, “Stop it.”
I grin. “Can’t. It’s too good.”
He lifts his head just enough to look at me, eyes narrowing. “Don’t act like you’re complaining now. You loved it at the time.”
I raise a brow. “I love it now.”
And something in his expression softens as he smiles, shrugging when he tries to explain, “Just because I hadn’t done it before doesn’t mean I didn’t know what I wanted.” He smiles. “I’ve watched things. Read things. I knew how it works, James. I just…”
I don’t want to ask. But I need to understand. “The opportunities never presented themselves?”
He waits for a second. Chewing on his lip before he finally admits, “They did. I just… didn’t want them.”
God.
He didn’t want them.
I know I shouldn’t be the caveman type who gets off on the idea that no one else has touched him, but—
Shit.
He chose me to do this with.
He wanted all of this with me.
It shouldn’t make me feel possessive. It shouldn’t make me feel proud.
But it does, because he chose me.
He waited –not because he had to, but because he hadn’t wanted to go there with anyone else, until now.
Until me.
And I think that might just be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
I groan low in my throat and kiss him again. Deeper, urgent, and my whole body surges with need as he completely melts under me.
Because whatever we do next? It’s going to matter. And I’m going to make sure it’s unforgettable.
“What do you want to do, James?” he asks between kisses, voice shaky and low as he rocks into me. “What do you—”
I don’t let him finish. My lips drag down from his mouth to his chin, then his throat, then lower, following the quick rise and fall of his chest.
“I want you, love,” I murmur against his skin, hands tracing every inch of him like I’m learning a language I never want to forget. Our eyes lock, and fuck—my whole body shudders at the sight of him looking back at me. Raw. Open. Wanting.
“I want everything,” I breathe out. And as I move further down, as my mouth hovers right over his hard length, his breath catches in his throat, and I let out a low growl.
He’s so fucking perfect.
When I hold out my hand, he whimpers and his hips twitch as his breath loosens, but even through the haze of lust, he manages a smirk as he passes me the small plastic bottle.
“And most importantly…” I purr, letting my breath fan across the head of his cock. “I want to do this with you.”
Then I lick him. Just once, and I swear, I almost lose it right then and there.
He trembles as he watches me twist the cap open, eyes trained on the movement as I squeeze the cool liquid over my fingers.
“And learn exactly what you like.”
I lift my hand just enough for him to see what I’m doing –even though he probably already knows; he was the one who handed me the bottle, after all.
But I wait for his nod anyway.
And when he gives it, slow, certain, and so beautiful, I make sure to memorise the sight. Then I close my mouth around him, groaning around his cock as I bring my hand down, lower, slower, until—
“James,” he gasps, head tilting back into the pillow as he lets out a loud, steady cry. My name on his tongue nearly makes me come on the spot, but I tamper it down and tease my finger around him, gentle and patient, waiting for him to move first. And when he does, when he sinks down against me with a trembling breath, I nearly fall apart.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I groan as my finger pushes into him. As I watch him feel it. Feel me.
He’s so tight. So hot. So goddamn perfect. And as he starts to move, I match him. Match his pace. Match his thrusts as I suck him down harder and twist my finger inside him. The ragged sounds he makes go straight to my own length and settle somewhere even deeper.
Somewhere no one has ever touched before.
I grind down against the mattress, desperate for any friction, just to keep myself from coming undone too soon. And when I crook my finger—when I find a spot inside him that makes him mewl—he arches off the bed, and grips my hair like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
“James,” he gasps, barely coherent. “James, I—”
I pull off him, both of us panting as my chest heaves, and I kiss the inside of his thigh. “I’ve got you, Reggie.”
And I do.
Every inch of him. Every breath he gives me.
And when I look up, I know I’ll carry this image with me until my last fucking breath.
His flushed chest, his trembling stomach, the way his hair’s stuck to his forehead. The way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.
It shatters me completely.
“Tell me if you want more,” I whisper, still tracing slow, reverent circles on his hip. “Or less. Or something else. Just say the word and I’ll—”
“Don’t stop,” he interrupts, so hoarse I almost don’t catch it. His fingers tighten in my hair, and he rolls his hips down into me. “Keep doing that. Maybe… add more. It feels good. So fucking good.”
Fuck.
I groan, kissing the spot just below his hip as I slowly slip another finger in, gentler than the first, because I don’t want to hurt him. I just want to give him space.
Time to feel.
Time to adjust.
Time to explore.
And when I pick up the pace, finding that spot again, he moans louder. Dirtier. Rougher. Like he’s starting to lose whatever grip he had on his composure as I thrust into him with all the finesse I can manage.
He’s so close. I can feel it. I can feel him.
I take him back into my mouth and suck him down completely, hollowing my cheeks until I feel him twitch –until he’s hardening even more. Until he–
“Yes,” he gasps.
My other hand is everywhere –stroking, squeezing, grounding him –as I match his thrusts stroke for stroke, sucking him down deeper with each movement. He’s unravelling in my mouth, falling apart in the most beautiful way, and I’m too far gone not to fall with him.
My hips jerk against the bed, chasing friction, desperate for relief, and I can’t stop. Can’t slow down. Not with the sounds he’s making. Not with the way he calls my name through his pleasure.
And then he comes with a broken cry and my name on his tongue –and something inside me detonates as I fall with him.
And it’s only in the aftermath, when I finally crawl back up beside him, peppering kisses, and resting my forehead to his as we catch our breath, that I realise something with the quietest kind of certainty.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more in awe of another person in my entire fucking life.