The early morning sun had never seemed brighter to Regulus than when he was wrapped up tight in the soft sheets of his bed with James. He had woken up only a few minutes before James’s eyes started creaking open, blinking blearily. The first thing he does as he wakes is grin. Regulus doesn’t know how he manages to be this impossibly happy during the ungodly hours of the morning, but it seemed on brand for James.
James shifted over on his side to face Regulus, “How are you feeling?” He asked, gesturing to Regulus’s body. He had a few scratches and bruises on his chest, but not as bad as the hickeys and bite marks going up Regulus’s neck. His thighs and hips were painted with them too.
“Like I was fucked last night,” He deadpanned, a blank look on his face. You would’ve thought he was unimpressed by James’s performance in bed, but that couldn’t be more wrong.
James smiled, scooting close enough to Regulus for their noses to brush. “You sound happy about that,” His cheeks had dimples, Regulus thought. He wanted to dip his thumbs in them and hold James til the sun finally exploded.
“I can’t complain, you’re decent, I suppose,” Regulus finally captured James’s lips in an embrace, not fast and needy like last night, but soft and loving.
James pulls back a bit, “Maybe we should’ve brushed our teeth before kissing.” Regulus rolls his eyes at James words, ducking down and burying his face in the crook of his neck.
“Next time,” He mumbled into the skin there. Next time, because Regulus Black has never been less opposed to spending a morning with James Potter again.