vulnerable
Drive-ins are meant for watching a movie. Romantic nights with store-bought snacks and colorful slushies. Holding hands over the center console and stolen glances. A kiss here, a heated moment there.
Or at least, they’re supposed to be.
But Regulus decided to date James, who is the most romantic person he’s ever met—with the filthiest, most insatiable sex drive he’s ever known to exist in a singular person. Which means drive-ins aren’t meant for movies or hand holding or soft kisses.
They’re meant for James in the backseat, teeth sunk into his bottom lip while he waits for Regulus to climb over the center console.
“It’s a damn good thing your windows are tinted,” Regulus mutters, shimmying his jeans and briefs down. “But we should put the visor up. I’m not a fan of being in vulnerable positions other people can see.”
“They should be so fucking lucky.” James leans forward, breath ghosting over Regulus’ ear. “But there’s no need. Everyone else is watching the movie.”
“Like we should be doing.” Regulus shakes his head in disbelief that he’s doing this at all. No, that he’s doing this again. How many times is he going to let James convince him to go on a date at the drive-in just for it to end like this—with his knees on the edge of the seat, legs melted apart around James, and his elbows on the center console to hold him steady.
James’ grip on his thighs is bruising. “You’re art, baby. Art.” It’s silky smooth, the glide of his tongue, and Regulus drops his head, letting it hang between his shoulders as he shudders. His hips push back of their own accord, and he moans when the resounding crack of a palm on his ass echoes through the air. “Louder.”
“Eat it like you fucking mean it, then,” Regulus snaps back.
A noise to acknowledge the challenge, and then James’ tongue dips inside, his thumb pulling at the tight ring of muscle. He spits in Regulus’ hole, pushes a finger inside, and Regulus crumbles. He almost slams his forehead against the gearshift and swears, loud and long, when James laughs. His breath is more stimulus, but still not enough.
“Careful, love.” Another swipe of tongue, another crack of his palm. Regulus jolts forward with a hiss; he knows his ass is red. “And I said louder.”
Regulus balances on one elbow, pushes his ass back against James’ face to shut him up, and reaches underneath to grip his cock. It’s heavy in his hand, and his hips try to stutter forward, but James’ grip on his thigh is brutal; it holds him in place while two fingers and a cursed tongue work to break him apart. He lets himself be loud, doesn’t care if the car next to them can hear. He’s lost to James’ mouth and hands; it always ends this way.
“I’m going to come all over your car,” Regulus warns, voice cracking as warmth pools in his spine.
“S’Fine,” James tells him between eager laps of his tongue. “I’ll get it detailed tomorrow. It’s worth it every time.”
Regulus cries out when James pushes a third finger in. He twists his wrist, crooks them just right to get the bundle of nerves that send Regulus right out of his skin. “Fuck.”
“Come for me, love.” James gives his ass a gentle bite. “Fuck the car.”
You’re insane, Regulus wants to say, but the words don’t come.
He does, though. Hard and fast, his orgasm rips through him after a few more well-done strokes of James’ fingers. Sticky warmth on his palm, over his fingers, and he shakes as James continues to lick lazily at his entrance, humming, content, against his skin.
“Beautiful,” James says, kneading Regulus’ ass. He pulls Regulus back against his chest and reaches for his hand to bring it to his mouth. Licks at the strips of white on Regulus’ fingers until they’re clean and grins, so fucking smug. “I’ll be honest, I’m not even sure what movie we’re watching.”
“Do you just want to go home?” Regulus can feel James pressed hard against him. “No offense to the director of what I’m sure is a great movie, but I promise, I’m more fun to watch.”
James nips at his ear. “You read my mind.”