kitchen
When Regulus agreed to do naked body shots in the comfort of their kitchen on a quiet Friday night, he didn’t expect it to end with James’ face between his thighs. But as most things with James—it never goes quite the way Regulus expects.
“James, I—” Regulus’ voice breaks at the silky smooth slide of James’ tongue through his folds to his clit, where James circles in tight, controlled motions. He keeps at this until Regulus’ hips buck off the kitchen counter to meet James’ face.
It’s at this point that James stops.
“You’re such a fucking—”
James drops an open-mouthed kiss to the apex of Regulus’ thighs, flicks his tongue against his clit once, then pulls away. “Shh, baby. Don’t wake the neighbors again.”
“Again?” Regulus hisses. “That wasn’t me.”
“Whose hands were on the headboard?”
“Oh, you—Fuck.” Regulus drops his head back against the marble with a pained whine when James runs two fingers through the wetness pooling between his legs.
He uses those same wretched fingers to spread Regulus open. Leans in and dips his tongue in Regulus’ entrance, tasting. “You’re so fucking delicious. Could do this all night.”
This is how it’s been for twenty minutes—James licks a line down Regulus’ chest, sips the shot from his bellybutton, and rather than go for the lime, continues licking a joyride from Regulus’ bellybutton down to his pussy.
James has only managed two shots in the last twenty minutes, and spends most of his time with Regulus’ legs hooked over his shoulder.
But he pulls away, sets up a third body shot, and leans down to press his lips to Regulus’ in a sloppy sideways kiss. He tastes like tequila and cum, and Regulus is loath to admit he finds the mixture addictive.
“Can you let me come this time?” Regulus snaps, glaring. “I want to fuck you before we watch the movie.”
“Romantic.”
“I’m just saying. Or I can sit on your dick while we watch. It’s up to you.”
James arches a brow. “That’s new.”
“So are naked body shots in our kitchen.”
“Fair point. Speaking of.” James darts down to lick the line of salt to Regulus’ belly button. Fire trails after his tongue, setting Regulus aflame, and it doesn’t stop even after James finishes lapping up the tequila.
He moans when James’ lips close around his clit again, his tongue relentless but perfect. After eight years, James knows what Regulus wants. What brings him to the edge. He licks and sucks, a man starved, and hums into Regulus’ folds when he gets a particularly good taste.
Regulus knows James better than anyone, better than himself sometimes. He knows what makes James tick, what sounds he likes best. So when Regulus shatters, he fists his fingers in James’ hair and rides his face through it, moaning wanton and far too loud for their small flat.
But it gets the response he wants—James yanks his hips, pulls him right to the edge and loops an arm around his waist. Regulus is off the counter in a heartbeat, the head of James’ cock pushing at his entrance as they walk to the living room.
“Baby, you’ll be the death of me. I swear it,” James mutters. He collapses back on the couch, taking Regulus with him. “Now sit the fuck down while I get the movie started.”