No Mans Land
Regulus sometimes wonders if he would be a surgeon at all if it wasn’t for his mother. If they hadn’t grown up the way they did.
He looks at the latest missed text, Regulus, you haven’t been answering my calls. If you continue to ignore me like this, I promise you I will find out my own way.
She wants to know how work is going. In better terms, she wants to know if Regulus is living up to the Black family name.
If he is better than his peers.
Regulus shoves the phone in his pocket, annoyed. He skips breakfast and grabs his keys off the counter, looking at Barty, who is eating ice cream at four in the morning.
He is curious enough to ask, “What are you doing?”
“Avoiding my girlfriend,” he says, spoonful of cookie dough.
Regulus didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, honestly.
That must be why he gets home so late sometimes.
“What did your girlfriend do to make you eat ice cream in the middle of the night?”
“Nothing she did,” Barty shrugs, “just not feeling it anymore.”
“Right, well. . .” he really wants to avoid the whole thing. “I’m going to the hospital.
“I’ll be there in a half hour,” Barty leans back in his chair.
He’s pretty much got everybody figured out. Evan is pretty quiet until you piss him off, Barty is the opposite. Loud at all times. Dorcas, arguably the most level-headed of them all, is the one you have to watch out for, in a professional sense, at least. She knows how to play the game, and she will.
Regulus likes the drive to the hospital, it's peaceful and quiet. Driving in the dark is his favorite. He can turn on music and not be burdened to speak to anybody else.
He feels comfortable in scrubs, a long sleeve underneath the light blue. He is on his way to troll for a chart when he notices James carrying two coffees on his way to him.
Regulus doesn’t mind this, as much as he pretends to, a coffee in exchange for a conversation.
“You’re here early,” he notes, looking at James. How is it possible someone can be so preppy at four in the morning?
That’s just—that’s not normal.
“Have a chordotomy in an hour, thought I’d bring you coffee since you're always here early.”
Regulus takes it from James, their hands brushing against one another, “What, you stalking now?”
“I was going to buy you breakfast but I don’t actually know what you want.”
“Coffee is enough.”
James looks at him, “You have to have a good breakfast to have a good day, that’s common sense.”
“Are you this insufferable at all hours of the day?” Regulus snarks.
James gives him a wink, “You know it, baby.”
He’s already walking away from Regulus, who rolls his eyes, “Do not call me that.”
〚*〛
Macdonald sends Meadowes and Crouch to continue rounding while Regulus is sent down to the pit with Evan.
“Potter needs interns,” is all she says.
“Ja-Potter’s in surgery.” Regulus catches himself.
Macdonald is pulling her hair into a bun, “Got pulled before he could start, go.”
Evan and Regulus step into the trauma room, staring at the patient.
Evan’s jaw is wide open, “Are those-”
“Nails.” James finishes his sentence.
Regulus moves to his side, instructing the patient as Evan administers an I.V. to keep him calm. “Just stay still, Mr. Cruz.”
He tripped down a flight of stairs, nail gun in his hand. That's what the nurse had told them upon entering the trauma room.
James is so serious when he works, a side of him Regulus hasn’t seen since his first day.
“Optic nerve’s affected,” he mumbles, talking to himself before speaking up for Mr. Cruz, “Can you feel this?”
No reaction.
“Immediate concern is infection,” Rosier blurts.
“Right,” James takes a step back from the patient, “I need to be pulling these out in the next half hour.”
“C.T. is down,” a nurse explains.
“You’re kidding me.” James sighs. “So what do we do?”
“Films from three axis points and a C-arm in surgery.” Regulus answers.
“Good. Rosier, hit the books, figure out if this has ever happened before. Black, stay with the patient and keep him calm.”
〚*〛
Dorcas is doing labs for a scrub nurse here, her name is Liz. She was a scrub nurse here, retired about three years ago.
Dumbledore walks in, curious to check up and see how she’s doing.
Dorcas explains the whole thing to Mckinnon, every last detail from her memory.
“Thank you, Dr. Meadowes.” She acknowledges.
Liz rats her out almost as soon as the Chief walks in, “She stole my chart during pre-rounds because she wants to scrub in on my surgery.”
Dorcas wants to kick this old woman for embarrassing her in front of authority.
Liz is just laughing, “She’s hoping for a whipple.”
Chief looks down at her, “I was thinking of giving you to Regulus Black.”
Dorcas cannot believe this.
“Walburga’s son?”
“He is an intern this year,” he mentions, “thought you’d have something to talk about.”
“I was Walburga’s scrub nurse for almost a decade and I’ve never met her kids once.”
Mckinnon catches the awkwardness and immediately tries to change the subject, “Well, Potter’s got him on the guy with nails in his head.”
Dorcas thought this couldn’t get any worse, “There’s a guy with nails in his head?”
“Seven of them.” She answers.
“And he is still alive?”
How does Regulus always end up with the best cases? It’s so not fair. Even when Dorcas did her work to be here early, he still got the better patient.
“Even better,” McKinnon teases, “he’s fully conscious.”
Dumbledore smiles, oddly, “Don’t worry, Meadowes, you’ve got the whipple.”
〚*〛
Regulus is getting a history from Mrs. Cruz, who is worried that her husband is going to be blind.
Rightfully so.
“He’s been having headaches. Can you tell me about that?” He gets her back on track. “Dizziness or disorientation?”
“It’s been happening the last couple months,” she recalls, a strange look on her face, “yeah, actually I have. Why?”
He has to go to James.
James has little deer on his scrub cap, which is the first thing Regulus notices when he walks in on him washing his hands.
“Lightheadedness?” He says, unsure. He doesn't believe Regulus.
“Yes.”
“That could be a million things,” James holds his hands up.
Regulus hasn’t scrubbed in yet, “What would make him fall down stairs with a nail gun?”
“He said he tripped.”
Regulus looks at the details, certain there is something more, “What if he has a tumor?”
“I have no idea why he’s still alive,” James says, stepping into the sterile field. “Let alone conscious. How about we fix him before digging to find what else is wrong?”
“So, you agree?”
“Agree with what?”
“That there is something more.”
“Go scrub in.”
Dumbledore is standing in on the surgery, as if James needed any more pressure to begin with.
Dorcas sits beside Barty, who watches Evan and Regulus as they stand behind Potter, who is proving to everyone why he is a talented surgeon.
She leans back, crossing her legs. “This is so unfair.”
“Tell me about it,” Barty snarks, “I would do anything to be down there.”
“Of course Black gets it.”
“Meadowes.” Mckinnon speaks, her normally cheerful exterior flipped. “Did you put the blood work in?”
Dorcas is panicking again, “Right before I got here.”
“Go take her to radiology for the M.R.I. and page me when you’re done.” Mckinnon nods, turning back to watch Potter.
Dorcas takes one long look at the surgery before standing up, Barty trying to contain his laughter.
Dorcas is wheeling Liz to radiology, sighing because she stops to talk to almost every nurse they pass by. This literally couldn't get any worse. She could be watching an amazing surgery and instead, she's listening to small talk.
Regulus, on the other hand, is amazed, having the time of his life in the O.R. even though he hasn't touched a single instrument. He tries to ignore the way that James’ steady hand pulls the final nail away.
He isn’t surprised that the first thing James says is, “Good job, team.”
Regulus isn’t even surprised, really.
〚*〛
Dorcas, finally getting a moment alone, checks the O.R. board.
“Where’s the whipple?” She says, looking at the receptionist, “Doesn’t Mckinnon have a whipple scheduled?”
She runs to find her, completely lost on why it hasn’t been rushed yet.
“Dr. McKinnon, have you seen Liz’s labs? They’re getting worse.”
Hence why the surgery should have been scheduled.
“I know.” She states.
“Well?” Dorcas makes a face, “Aren’t you going to do something?”
Mckinnon tucks her hands in her pockets, still wearing a crimson scrub cap. “Get a biopsy and let’s take a look at her overnight labs.”
“Overnight?” Dorcas says.
“Aren’t you on-call?”
She is now. “Right, right, yes.” Mckinnon goes to walk away when Dorcas blurts out, desperately, “You’re still doing the whipple, right?”
“We are going to do something, Dr. Meadowes, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
It’s not until after Liz has returned from her biopsy that Regulus finds his way into her room, upon indirect orders from Dumbledore.
“You look just like your mother.”
Regulus has always hated when people say that.
If anyone had met Walburga Black, they would know that to compare someone in absolutely any way to her, is an insult.
“Regulus Black,” he tilts his head, “you were my mothers scrub nurse.”
“So, I’ve heard.” She nods, “How’s your father?”
Regulus doesn’t like to talk about his mother and until recently, he really doesn’t like to talk about his father.
“Good,” he lies through his teeth.
Liz moves the topic back to Walburga. “Where’s your mother now?”
“Working in Boston.”
“That woman is all work. Barely ever left the hospital when I was with her.” Liz remembers, “But I bet you already knew that.”
Regulus nods, uneasy. He isn't going to stand here and unpack the complicated relationship with his mother to her scrub nurse, he's not insane. “Good luck, Liz. I’ve got to go.”
He doesn’t see James on his way out. Not that that’s a bad thing, just odd. Usually James knows exactly where he is at all times. As ridiculous as it sounds, Regulus looked forward to the moments where James would run into him.
But tonight that doesn’t happen. Surely, he is staying to watch Cruz.
James cares a lot. It’s both a strength and a weakness as a surgeon.
Regulus gets into his car, pulling out of the parking lot as it sprinkles rainwater.
The home has been calling him, just about as much as his mother has.
He has time; he should go.
His father was always Regulus’ favorite parent. He was a surgeon too, not as good as Walburga, granted.
Despite being a general surgeon like his wife, Orion was far too enraptured in his personal life to truly make a name for himself.
He was at everyone of Sirius’ hockey games. Went out of his way to spend time with Regulus. He wasn't just a father, he was a dad.
It was the little things that made Orion a better parent, but even then, he was still a surgeon. And everybody knows surgeons put work first.
And then all of that changed. Sirius had fled to college and started a brand new life. The sudden change was enough to send Orion over the edge.
Early onset Alzheimer’s. That was the diagnose he had gotten.
His mother sent him to a care facility near their home, it was much easier than watching her husband fade at the edges, slowly forgetting his own life. That was when they all lived in Washington still, when Walburga worked here. It was only two months before she fled to Boston, urging that Regulus follow her to start his internship on the East Coast.
Regulus didn’t want to abandon his father, first and foremost. But more than that, he wanted to prove to people that he wasn’t a good surgeon because of his mother. He was going to be a good surgeon because he made himself one.
So, he couldn't leave.
Visiting Orion had gotten harder as he started his job.
But he’s here now, and surely that counts for something.
Right?
His father is doing a puzzle, something he used to do with Regulus as a kid. He sits down across from him, placing a piece down.
“Hi, Papa.”
“Oh hello.” He says, “Haven’t seen you in a while, Sirius.”
Regulus remembers why he tries to avoid coming here. Orion undoubtedly thinks he is his older brother every time he visits.
It stings the same every time.
“It’s me, Regulus. Sirius isn’t here.”
Sirius is always the brother he wants there, and Regulus is always the one that is there.
〚*〛
James is in the attending lounge, watching Remus crack a smile at Marlene.
“You are torturing the interns.”
“Just one,” Marlene pulls her hair back, “Meadowes is so eager to scrub in that I can’t help myself.”
“Definitely evil.” James sips on his coffee.
“Well, for one,” Marlene points, “Remus refuses to have any interns assigned to him.”
“Because they all suck.”
“But once you teach them, they end up being good.” James says, “You’re a good teacher, much better than Marls.”
“You only want to teach the good ones, James,” she fires back, “how many times has Black been on your service?”
“Black is talented at neuro.”
“I heard he’s talented at everything.” Peter quips, “Look at his family for fucks sake.” James would agree with that statement. Regulus is talented, at everything.
“More people are interested in neuro than urology, Peter, there is nothing I can do about that.” He claps him on the shoulder.
Peter shrugs, “Fair enough.”
“Mr. Hotshot just wants to look good for the Chief,” Marlene cackles, “that why you’re hoarding Black to your service?”
He gets paged before he can answer, “Bye friends.”
Mr. Cruz is smiling, his wife next to him, “I can see, Dr. Potter!”
James is asking him questions, trying to figure out if his memory is the same. “I think we should get an M.R.I. to check for any bleeding.”
Regulus is already standing there, nodding. No matter what is needed, Regulus can do it.
That's why James keeps Regulus planted on his service. Requesting him all the time. He's good.
Plus, James certainly doesn't mind Regulus walking around in his stupidly attractive scrubs all day.
〚*〛
“Liz, stop bullying the interns,” Mckinnon laughs.
Meadowes walks out the door, mumbling, “Can I talk to you?” Surprised by the anger in her tone, Mckinnon shuts the door to the patient room and stares at her. “Have you seen her overnight labs?”
“I have.” Mckinnon nods.
“Did you check her liver panel?”
“They’re not good.”
“They’re horrible. She’s choking on bile, she is jaundiced-”
Mckinnon looks up at the intern, who is a good four inches taller than her, “She’s a very sick woman, Dorcas.”
Dorcas? So they are on a first name basis now.
“Why haven’t you scheduled the whipple?” She demands to know.
Mckinnon folds her arms, “Are you a surgeon now?”
“Apparently not. I’ve been wheeling her around every hour of the day while she gets sicker and sicker!”
She relents, “I’ll take a look at her biopsy.”
“Fuck that,” Dorcas says. She is usually so good at keeping her emotions in check. But she can’t right now. Mckinnon has been playing with her all day, and for what? At the expense of someone’s life? No. Dorcas will not, she cannot stand for that.
“Dr. Meadowes-”
“Did you ever intend to do the whipple?” She gestures to the room, “Because I’m starting to believe this entire thing has been bull and you’re behaving like the only reason she is in this hospital is to die.”
The look on her face says it all.
That is why Liz is here.
Dorcas watches her attending walk away.
〚*〛
Regulus and James are watching the scans get pulled up. His hand is on the back of James’ chair, standing while James slouches.
“It’s a tumor,” James says, pointing. “Midline. Near the hypothalamus.”
Regulus sighs. He didn’t actually want to be right about this.
“Let’s go talk to his wife.”
Mrs. Cruz goes from ecstatic to crushed in minutes.
“So what do we do?” The patient asks, bandages still surrounding his head from yesterday's surgery.
“You want me to take it out, but the issue is that I won’t be able to get it all. We are looking at 99%.” They thought this nightmare was ending and in reality it had just begun. James continues to deliver the news, “With radiation and chemo, you’re looking at maybe five to ten good years.”
Mr. Cruz doesn’t even hesitate to say, “Let’s do it.”
James takes his hand out of the white coat pocket, “There’s a downside. The tumor is located in the part of your brain that holds the memory and personality you have. And I have to cut out a lot. You could lose your memories. Lose who you are.”
Mrs. Cruz looks at James like it’s his fault. “There’s no other way?”
“The second option would be treatment and radiation. Less invasive, little chance of memory loss. But it’s only three to five years for the outlook.”
A choked sob comes out of her mouth.
“This is an incredibly difficult decision and if you have any more questions or want to talk, don’t hesitate.” James nods, leaving the room.
Regulus un-clenches his fists, not even realizing he’d been doing it in the first place.
〚*〛
Dorcas is raging, fighting the urge to punch something or someone while she yells at Evan—who was only trying to help.
“I think it’s nice. This place was her home. She worked here for decades.” He nods.
“It is a waste of a bed, and quite frankly, Evan, it’s a waste of my time.”
“What are we talking about?” Barty joins them, a bag of chips in his hand.
Dorcas flops onto the empty gurney where they lounge, “Liz is here to die. There was never any surgery.”
"Yeesh." He makes a face.
Regulus comes downstairs, Evan smiling, “Has he decided?”
“No, the wife and him are still going back and forth.”
Evan nods. He was on the case a little bit when he first came in, wanting to see it through.
Regulus stops in front of Barty, “Can I talk to you?”
“What’s up?” Barty says, chewing.
“Alone.”
Evan looks at Dorcas dramatically, “They are keeping secrets from us again.”
“Dickheads.”
“Ha. Ha.” Regulus deadpans.
Barty follows him to the morgue, “What’s going on?” He asks, looking around at the bodies, “This is so creepy, I love it.”
Regulus is pacing around, “I did something really stupid, Barty.”
“What did you do?” He goes from teasing to stoic in milliseconds.
“Remember when I told Evan they hadn’t decided about five seconds? Well they did.”
“And?”
“They wanted to cut it out—the tumor. And I went in there and convinced them not to. James thinks that they want it out still and they are going to tell him I told them not to do it.”
Barty puts his palms over his eyes, groaning. “Regulus Black.” He takes a deep breath, “Why would you do that?”
He doesn’t want to tell him why.
“You can get in big trouble for this, I don’t understand. It’s their life, who cares what they do?”
Regulus is biting his fingernails, a habit his mother always hated. If Barty is going to help him, he is going to need to know the truth. Regulus word-vomits it up, “My father has early onset Alzheimer’s. He can’t remember much and his memories are all confused and they were going to sit there and tell James to cut it out when they don’t know how bad things are with a shell of a person.”
Barty doesn’t know what to do at first then settles on planting Regulus to the floor, his hands on his shoulders. “Alright, first you need to calm down.”
He nods, teeth gritted.
“Now, go upstairs and tell them that you were being dumb and that their original choice was good. You are an intern and they shouldn’t listen to advice given from you or anyone other than Potter.”
He nods, "Okay, I can do that."
Regulus breaks free from him, praying that James hasn’t been told the news yet.
〚*〛
Dorcas walks up to Liz’s room, leaning against the doorframe.
“They were never going to operate, kid.” She speaks through raspy breaths.
Dorcas steps to her bedside, “You could’ve told me.”
“What fun would that have been?” A weak smile, “It’s like a hazing ritual.”
Dorcas can sense her struggle, watching her oxygen levels drop with every word, “Don’t talk, Liz.”
In a moment of fear, Liz grabs her hand, shaking.
The machine starts beeping rapidly and her heart stops.
Dorcas calls a code.
Everything is moving so fast and all she can think about is how to save Liz's life.
“Push Epi and Atropine,” she shouts, starting compressions. “Page Mckinnon!”
The nurse stops, “She’s D.N.R.”
Dorcas doesn’t stop.
She physically cannot.
“She is D.N.R. Meadowes!” He tells, “Back off the patient.”
“Push another Epi, come on people.” Dorcas continues.
Mckinnon walks in the room and watches the nurses stand around while Meadowes does chest compressions. “What the hell is going on here?”
“She lost pulse,” Dorcas tells her.
“Let her go down, Meadowes, she is do not resuscitate.”
Still not following orders, Marlene has no other choice but to wrap her arms around Dorcas and yanks her back and away from Liz. Making her stop.
Dorcas fights her as Marlene yells, “D.N.R. It is on her chart, Meadowes.”
“Alright.” She rips out of Mckinnon’s arms.
The flat-line buzz fills the room, along with death.
“Get out.” Mckinnon snaps.
She doesn’t have to tell her twice.
Time of death: 16:32.
Mckinnon finds Dorcas in the elevator, she steps in at the last moment and pulls the stop button.
“You cannot lose it like that.” She tells Dorcas.
Dorcas shakes her head, “I’m sorry, I just. . . we could have saved her.”
“You have to let her go.” She tells the intern, “You are going to lose patients, but you cannot react like that.”
Dorcas sucks in a breath, “I’m sorry, Dr. Mckinnon.”
She looks at her for a long moment and swears there is a glisten in her eye. But then she pulls the stop button shut and as soon as the doors open, Dorcas is gone.
〚*〛
Regulus is making his way to Cruz's room. He is almost inside when James grabs his arm and pulls him into the stairwell.
“What did you do?”
“James-”
“You went behind my back to convince a patient to not get surgery? What the hell is going on with you?”
“It was a mistake, James, I’m sorry.” Regulus sputters out, “I was going to tell her to change her mind.”
“It’s Dr. Potter when we are at work.” James reminds him, “And you’re off this case, tell Rosier to find me.”
It’s Regulus who watches the other storm off now.
“Fuck.”
Regulus finds Barty at lunch.
“I got caught.”
“Is he mad?”
“More than I’ve ever seen.”
Barty rolls his eyes, “Potter’s a dramatic prick.” Then he sets his water down, “I forgot to mention, Evan and I talked and we think that you need to have a house party.”
“A house party?”
“Tonight.”
“Absolutely not,” Regulus decides, “no.”
“Funny story, we’ve already invited people.”
“Like who?”
Barty looks around the room, “Like people we know.”
“Bartemius.”
“Reginald.”
“That’s not my name.”
“Yeah but I didn’t know your middle name.”
“Arcturus.”
“What the fuck is that?” Barty snorts, “But for real, I think you need to let loose. You’re too wound up all of the time. It stresses me out.”
“You and Evan are responsible for any damages or messes from this party.”
“Dorcas is buying the alcohol, send your requests to her.”
And speaking of her, Dorcas is upstairs, working on updating charts when Mckinnon sets a coffee down next to her.
Dorcas looks at it like it’s a foreign object, then over to Marlene, who is drinking from her own.
“It’s just coffee,” Marlene says, and walks away.
Dorcas shuts the chart, taking the cup.
〚*〛
Regulus is eating dinner by himself in the library, as magical as it seems, James is in there too.
He sits down next to Regulus, leaning against the bookshelf.
“Are you okay?” James asks, “You seem upset.”
“I’m good, Dr. Potter, thanks for checking in.”
James eyes drop down to the tray, “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you yesterday. I’m sorry. Let me take you to dinner, apology dinner.”
“I can’t.” Regulus shrugs, “And you should’ve yelled at me. I was out of line.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
His pinkie touches the side of Regulus' thigh, “Forget the party, Reg, come hang with me.”
Regulus has no idea how he found out about the party in the first place. “Who told you? Was it Evan?” Barty wouldn’t, he doesn’t even like Potter.
“Thanks for not inviting me, by the way. That felt good.” James teases. Or Regulus thinks he is teasing.
“How was the surgery?”
“He lived.”
Yeah, Regulus knows what that means.
His phone begins to buzz and it’s his mother. Regulus knows better, standing up from where he is eating. “I’ve got to go, James.” He doesn't look back to see if James is upset he left him there, again.
Outside, Regulus answers the phone, “Maman, hi.”
“Regulus, you finally picked up the phone, it’s a miracle. How is work, were you picked for the intern assist?”
“No, a peer of mine was. She dropped out of the program.”
“This is exactly why I wanted you to stay in Boston, what is there for you? Nothing.”
For the record, Regulus is exhausted. He’s worn out. He’s cranky. He’s a little bit sexually frustrated, so it’s not his fault that for once he tells the truth.
“Well, for one, Papa’s here.”
The line goes quiet for a moment, then Walburga’s anger fills the silence. “How dare you speak to your mother like that? Unbelievable. You are not your brother, you will be a good son. I demand it of you. I let you go to Seattle because you begged me. I can bring you back. Get it together.”
She hangs up the phone.
Seems about right.
His shift is over and Regulus just wants to go home and lay in bed. Maybe stare up at the ceiling and ponder the bane of his own existence.
But then he parks in his driveway to see the people clamoring around the house.
Right, the party.
He is about to start kicking people out when he sees Barty dancing on the table, arms in the air yelling, “Reggie, you made it!”
“Ah, fuck it.” He says, climbing up onto the table. Regulus takes the bottle out of Barry’s hand, drinking straight from it.
Barry is laughing, “Ev-Evan come here.”
He shakes his head, talking to a person who works in psych.
“Evan, come on!” Barty shouts over the music.
Evan finally relents, jumping up onto the table. He stands behind Barty, the three of them all grinding on one another.
It’s certainly not something James expected to see when he walked into the party.
Regulus is so wrapped up in his own mind that he doesn’t notice James staring daggers at him. Barty leans forward, “Your boyfriends watching.”
Regulus takes a peak, watching as James talks to Mary Macdonald, his resident, even though his eyes are glued to him.
Regulus leans his head back on Barty’s shoulder, “God, he’s so hot.”
“You’re drunk.”
Regulus hops off the table, almost falling on his way down while Barty turns to face Evan as they dance.
He makes a point not to look at James as he heads outside.
James, about as predictable as a regular at a cafe, follows him.
It’s not too chilly out, considering it’s Seattle, not even a drop of rain tonight.
They’re outside on Regulus’ porch, “So, you blew me off for a bottle of tequila, hm?”
“I haven’t blown you yet, James.” He smirks.
James’ eyes go wide, not used to being the one getting flirted at. Every other time he is the flirter.
“My car is right there,” James unlocks it, “get in.”
Regulus hands him the bottle, working his way to doing just that. James has asked him to dinner maybe ten times now, but all it took to get some of Regulus' attention was a bottle of alcohol?
James can't believe it.
He doesn’t bother getting into the passenger seat, going directly to the back of James’ Bentley.
James shuts the door of the car, hovering over Regulus to kiss him.
Regulus is feeling bolder tonight, clearly an effect from the alcohol. He bites the bottom of James’ lip, making sure he doesn’t pull away.
James takes that as an indication to kiss him harder, pulling his shirt up, up, up and off.
His hands trail down the side of his ribs, warm enough that his abs flex at the touch. James stops hovering and lays on top of him, kissing his neck while Regulus’ hands find their way into James’ hair, tugging gently.
His glasses are fogging up from Regulus’ breath alone. James peels his own shirt off, in a rather quick manner.
He sits up, pulling Regulus onto his lap and groaning at the sudden pressure on his groin.
Regulus is messy, sloppy. His kisses are wet and desperate and the perfect remedy for his bad mood.
He needed this so badly. James was offering. It was perfect.
It is perfect.
After a bit, James says, “Let’s sneak inside, go to your room.”
“Shut up,” Regulus' lips trail back from where they were on his neck. They land back on his mouth when a knock at the window makes him flinch.
“You mind moving your car?” Mary Macdonald stares at him, “You’re blocking me in, Potter.”