impulse
James knows he shouldn’t do it.
Sirius will kill him for it. He warned James already—do not make a move on my brother; he’s off limits.
But they’re on a Ferris wheel at the very top, just the two of them in the car, and the whole of the carnival stretches out in front of them. Twinkling lights against a dark sky, and when James turns to look at Regulus, Regulus is already looking at him.
He reaches up to cup Regulus’ cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth along the high point of his cheekbone. “You’re beautiful,” James breathes. The Ferris wheel halts, keeps them at the very top. “I haven’t been able to stop staring at you since we got here.”
“I know,” Regulus replies, cheeky. He turns his head to kiss the inside of James’ palm. Looks up with those bright gray eyes and James is gone. “But you’re not so bad yourself.”
James has no impulse control. He never has.
They’re still stuck at the top, the whole world at their feet, but James doesn’t truly feel like a god until his lips meet Regulus’, a perfect slot of their mouths, and he’s in a heaven he knows he doesn’t deserve.
Regulus’ hand cups the back of his neck, urging him down, and James has a hand on Regulus’ waist, pulling him as close as possible in the small space of their car. Their tongues roll against each other, a dance they’ve never tried but somehow know all the steps to.
They don’t break apart until the Ferris wheel jerks to a start again.
“Let me keep you,” James begs. He kisses Regulus again, chaste but desperate. “Let me have you.”
“You already do.” Regulus kisses the tip of James’ nose. “But my brother will kill you for this.”
James chases Regulus’ mouth, catches it and demands its attention as the Ferris wheel brings them to the end of their circle. “I don’t care,” he says earnestly. “The punishment is so worth the prize.”
“You might as well claim it then. And enjoy while you still can.”
Regulus’ laugh is a beautiful thing when James wraps strong arms around his waist to pull him over; it threatens to tip their whole box, and Regulus smacks James’ chest, demands with a smile that James let him go.
Never.
For the sound of Regulus’ laughter is magic, and James would burn the world for the chance to bottle it.