A HariPo oneshot
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. Had a bit of fun inspired by "Wrong" by Depeche Mode. Read, review, and enjoy!
Regulus Arcturus Black turned in his chair in the library and met a pair of hazel eyes. His skin went cold. "What do you want."
Of course it should've been a question, but for him—towards him—it would always be a statement. Rather, an order. And James Potter sometimes took orders.
"I've nothing currently on my mind," James stated, and he took a book from a nearby shelf, flipped through it, and replaced it. He stared at the shelf a moment longer, his mouth twisting around, giving him an unsatisfied expression.
Regulus told himself to stop watching those lips. "Then go have a blank mind elsewhere. I'm studying."
James snorted. "Sure you are," he muttered under his breath.
The younger Black brother hated himself for fidgeting in his seat; he never fidgeted. He was a proud Black. He ought to make others fidget…well, he had done that.
But it appeared that James might've been in charge today. This game was one they'd only played a few times before, and Regulus wondered why. James was the Golden Boy, the one everyone loved. Sirius was well-loved, too, but he was nothing compared to James.
James shined, and sometimes he could make Regulus feel as though he could shine, too.
But Regulus hated this feeling of kowtowing to anyone…even if James could be persuasive. It was so…
Regulus shook his head and packed his bag. If he stayed here, he knew what would happen.
James watched him and made a move towards him, stopping when Regulus looked up. "Hey," he said with a nervous laugh in his throat, "I'm not going to bite." James paused. "Not if you don't want me to."
"The very first time, Sirius had spiked your party drink with firewhiskey," Regulus reasoned. "Therefore, it doesn't count, and none of the other times ought to, either."
"But they happened when I—when we both—were right of mind." James frowned. "Lily and I didn't last."
Regulus sneered. "It's not the Mudblood that matters."
James tensed. "You mean Remus."
Regulus slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the library. "Right in one, Potter. Half-breeds are below…us."
"You mean purebloods."
Regulus had no comment. Yes, James Potter's purity made things a little hotter for him.
James didn't say anything further on the statement. Instead, he followed Regulus out of the library. "Hey, Black."
"I'll leave you alone, for good, if you'd just give me a good reason."
Regulus froze near the end of the corridor, James slowing a few yards behind him. A good reason? If only there were one…
"And don't use the firewhiskey excuse again. If that were the case, then we wouldn't have carried on past that one time."
The Black darkly smiled to himself. "You mean we wouldn't have fucked like a couple of animals in heat?"
James nervously cleared his throat, as they were out in the open, even though no one else was around to overhear. "…er, yes."
Regulus closed his eyes. Godric, if only he could've been born someone else…then—and only then—would the idea of him and James have ever been truly possible.
But that was not the case. Regulus wasn't only a Black; he was also his parents' last hope. Especially with Sirius gone, burned right off the family tapestry. So he couldn't be fooling around with James anymore, he couldn't.
Then James was standing behind him, placing a tentative hand on Regulus' shoulder.
Regulus fought a shiver. If only things could've been different…
"Reg…" James said his name so softly that it almost made Regulus feel human emotions…but Regulus fought them down. Only James could make him feel this way, could get this rise out of him. He wondered when he'd started feeling—and hiding—such things for James.
A long time ago—two years to be exact—Regulus had ventured into lion territory to see about his brother. Regulus had been in fourth year, Sirius and the others in their fifth, and it was right after they'd all passed their O.W.L.s. There was food, drinks, dancing, and a positively jovial mood in Gryffindor Tower. Regulus should've known that place would be his downfall.
It was there that a tipsy James found him and tried dragging him over to Sirius. Sirius had laughed and said that he'd had no idea what was in James' drink—bullshit, Regulus had thought—and James had walked Regulus around the perimeter of the room, not removing his arm from around Regulus' shoulders.
Then, with the others watching, James had drunkenly snogged Regulus.
Regulus had punched him and stalked out of the common room…only to be recaptured by the feisty Potter son and led to an abandoned, quiet corridor that quickly filled up with Regulus' moans of ecstasy as he, for the first time, experienced a fellow wizard's touch.
He didn't know if thinking back on it sickened him, or excited him.
That had been the first time, and James appeared to have forgotten it. It wasn't that long until he finally convinced Lily Evans to be his girlfriend, after all.
Then Regulus had found himself practicing alone on the Quidditch pitch, thinking of nothing in particular when James joined him. Seeker and Chaser—they were a volatile combination, as proved when James helped him to seek a new definition of the "mile-high" club. Whoever said that James was as straight as they come had not been on the receiving end of one of his masterful blowjobs…
And Regulus learned quickly how to return the favor with a finger—or two.
That had broken up Lily and James, though Regulus had no intent on another repeat. It didn't matter that he didn't stop thinking about James while he took his O.W.L.s the following year. It didn't matter that James had moved on to Remus John Lupin—whom Regulus later figured out was a werewolf, a filthy half-breed. It didn't matter that Regulus had ashamedly discovered how to touch himself in the hope of replicating James' strokes.
There wouldn't—couldn't—be anymore "Regulus and James." There would only be "Regulus," and "James."
Then came the end of Regulus' fifth year, right after his sixteenth birthday.
James had approached him, a wolf's grin on his face. "Hey, there, Birthday Boy."
The younger Black son had tensed on reflex and made his way into a crowded hallway. He ignored the sound of footsteps behind him as James strolled in his wake. Regulus had almost cleared the end of the hallway, he could see the staircase downstairs to the dungeons, and—
"I only wanted to say 'Happy Birthday.'"
His carefully selected words, his silky tone, Regulus' weak resolve—it was a combination of the things that broke Regulus, and he'd dropped his bag, snatched the sleeve of James' jumper, and snogged him senselessly. Regulus knew this territory, therefore he knew the nearest empty classroom, the classroom's closet and its hidden, secret treasure: an old mattress tucked away for when Slytherin consorts would come to dabble in the dark…and in the Dark.
Regulus had assured himself afterwards that it'd only been to one-up James. He'd only stripped him to humiliate him. He'd only asked James to go down on him to sicken James. He'd only…
He'd only entered James and allowed his own penetration to show James who was the boss around here.
But if that were the case, then why had Regulus—countless times—felt the warmth radiating from James' backside as he pounded into that love-hole?
Ah, Regulus had decided. I'm some kind of addict. Perhaps…a hormone- or adrenaline-addict?
Even now, with James crawling back to him and begging for more, Regulus thought so much of this was indecent. The two wizards… The sex… The lack of any emotional connection…
…which Regulus knew not to be true on his part. He knew he felt strongly for James, as much as he tried to deny it.
Remus could have James in the light, but Regulus stole him in the shadows. Hair, skin, sweat—in the secrecy of night, Regulus could believe that James came to him—and came in him—because he felt something, too.
But kisses, cuddling, and cum make not the sweetest of relationships.
Regulus could lie to himself all he wanted, but as James took his hand and met no resistance, Regulus could feel himself crumbling to that touch and taste again. He wondered what Sirius would hate more if he knew what his little brother and best mate did when the others were glancing the other way.
Every now and then, Regulus considered himself to be the true object of James' affections, even believing that each time James called his name, James meant it to translate as those three little words…
Regulus wondered if Lupin could make James pant and spurt as he could.
It wasn't long before this night became one of their best. Nights like these were the most ironic: James would find Regulus because he was too scared of Remus' impending transformation affecting their lovemaking. No, James didn't want to be hurt by the wolf.
And, yet, as Regulus bit into James' shoulder almost hard enough to break the skin, the thought hit Regulus how idiotic James was, asking Regulus for pain when he was scared of what Remus might dole out.
Regulus bit harder, thrust his pelvis into James, and held him tight as James climaxed. Yes, times like these, Regulus believed James had come to him because he truly, honestly, Godric-fucking-Merlin sincerely wanted Regulus to be his lover of both the morn and midnight.
But Regulus was Regulus, the brother bound by fate, or destiny, or some other similar load of crap, to do his parents proud and be the best Dark wizard the world had ever seen.
Or something like that.
James still had enough energy to lick and suck Regulus dry, and, Merlin's beard, he couldn't remember that last time James' lips had tasted so good.
No, of course he didn't remember that. James was too busy suckling that bloody wolf these days.
Then James drew himself up, and—oh, Salazar, he hugged Regulus so tightly to himself and kissed him so sweetly, it felt as though the James-using-him thing had been a bad—albeit nice and naughty—dream…
This was why Regulus hated kissing James… He… He…!
He loved kissing James too much, so he knew it had to be time to stop!
When Regulus started dressing, James sat down, not embarrassed by his nakedness, and whistled lowly. "This… This…"
"This has got to stop," Regulus finished for him.
James looked at him, alarmed. "What? No! This…This has become a part of us, Regulus!" James glared at him, the first time he'd ever done so, so earnestly. "You can't deny a part of yourself."
"What? What would that be, hmm?" Regulus cast a look down at his lover. "Would that be tantamount to suicide?"
James' gaze was unwavering as he replied, without a doubt, "Yes."
Regulus looked away then, not wanting that gaze to bore holes into him, though it had done so countless times before. "Too late. I'm…" He hesitated, wondering how James would react. However…if Regulus ever wanted this finally to end…
"You're what?" James pestered, standing up and touching his cheek to turn Regulus' face towards him.
Regulus met his eyes and said as offhandedly as he could, "I'm getting it next week. On the break."
Ah, yes, there was the shock Regulus did and didn't want to see. James' face froze as he hand fell away, his arm limp as though someone had removed all the bones. He backed away from Regulus with the same caution one used to back away from a fire. James said nothing as he gathered his rumpled clothes and hastily dressed. He still looked as though someone had just flashed a light in his eyes when he stared at the ground near Regulus' feet.
Finally, he croaked, "You're going to…?"
Regulus couldn't resist. Perhaps it was his parents' effect on him, but he strode over to James and shoved up his sleeve on his left arm. "See this?" he taunted. "See this white skin? See how bare, how innocent it looks? Well, get a good look, because it won't be innocent any longer, Potter!"
James finally met his eyes. His mouth was still dry, though. "But, Regulus, you're not like that…," he whispered.
"Maybe I am!" Regulus snarled. He reached for his own wand, but James slapped his arm away and stared at him a moment longer before a look of disgust formed in his eyes. James grimaced, a trace of pity in his features as he turned his back on Regulus and left.
Yes, there it was. It was what Regulus had wanted all along. He'd never wanted anything more than a…a sex friend… Yes, this was what he'd wanted for so long, because there was no loving James. That was just…
Hmm, I think it is possible to be simultaneously proud of and embarrassed by something. Because I am with this oneshot, *lol*. This, officially, is the closest I will EVER come to writing smut. I won't write PWP, I won't write lemons, etc.—I'm just not comfortable with that, and I'm not sorry. This is my threshold. *end rant* Anywho, pretty sexy, no? ;3 I like Jamgulus… -w- Anyone have any suggestions for some good ones to read? I'd love to hear. :D
Thanks for reading, and please review!
2017 note: *smacks 2011 me* I'm still not into PWP, but lemons and smut in general are fine, and I think the original content of this fic just pushes the M rating. The only thing I'm embarrassed about still is that this used to be a songfic. Urgh. I mean, it has an interesting flow with Depeche Mode's "Wrong" interspersed throughout, but…eh. I just don't support songfics anymore. As for the pairing, I am a sucker for Reg not having a happy ending…oh, boy. I still am in awe of this line, tho, *lol*: "But kisses, cuddling, and cum make not the sweetest of relationships." XD