A/N: You can find the full-length M rated version of this fic on AO3 (Link in bio).

…

James Potter drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk as he waited. He'd been sitting in the Potions classroom for about ten minutes already, at Professor Slughorn's request. It wasn't embarrassing enough that Slughorn was forcing him to have extra tutoring sessions from one of his resident Slytherins, now he had to sit and stare at the clock above Slughorn's desk, waiting.

After what seemed like ages, a familiar lanky, greasy-haired figure entered the Potions classroom and stopped in his tracks when he saw James.

"Absolutely not," Severus Snape sneered.

"Snivellus?" James stood up from his seat. "You're tutoring me in Potions?" James mentally slapped himself. Of course Slughorn would pick Snape. He was achieving Outstandings in all of his Potions assignments, something that he was disgustingly gleeful about during the Slytherin and Gryffindor Potions lessons.

"Professor Slughorn didn't tell me it was going to be you," Snape snarled. "No. I'm not doing it." He turned his nose up in the air, as though James smelled particularly bad.

"Wait!" James yelled. "I'm going to fail my Potions NEWT if I don't go through with the extra tutoring sessions."

"It's not my fault you're incompetent at the subject," Snape snapped. "Maybe if you spent less time fooling around with Black and the others, you might actually learn something."

"Snivell—Snape. Please."

Snape eyed James reproachfully for a moment, and then shook his head. "Just wait there." Before James could respond, he turned on his heel and swished out of the dungeon.

James groaned loudly and sat back down at the desk. Another ten minutes passed before someone else entered the Potions classroom—Professor Slughorn himself, followed by a familiar face that James recognised from the year below.

"Ah, Mr Potter, sorry about all the fuss," Slughorn smiled apologetically and sat behind his desk. "Now, I had originally planned for Severus to tutor you, but he has unfortunately just informed me that he will be unable to help you, due to some...er…" Slughorn looked slightly uncomfortable. "Some extra commitments."

"It's okay, Professor," James replied.

"Luckily for you, Mr Black here has offered to take Severus's place." Slughorn gestured to the boy that had followed him into the classroom.

James realised instantly where he recognised the boy—it was Regulus Black, Sirius's brother, Slytherin Seeker, and general goody-two-shoes Regulus Black. He leaned against Slughorn's desk with his arms folded, staring blankly at James.

"Regulus has agreed to tutor you twice a week for the next eight weeks. I'm sure you understand the need for your extra sessions, Mr Potter, so I'm sure you will be managing your time...wisely. Please ensure you cancel any unnecessary plans that may interfere with you earning an Outstanding in your summer NEWT." Slughorn stood up from his desk, and offered James another smile. "If you still intend to become an Auror when you finish Hogwarts this year, that is."

"But, Sir," James interjected before Slughorn could leave the classroom. "He's in the year below me. How can he tutor me in NEWT level Potions?"

Regulus rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Regulus, along with a select few of my students, are taking their Potions NEWTs early, due to their exceptional talent for the subject. So, you don't need to worry about him not meeting your level." Slughorn spread his fingers in a wave as he reached the door. "Regulus, keep me updated on Mr Potter's progress, won't you? Good luck, boys."

Once Slughorn had left the classroom and his footsteps were echoing down the hall, James offered Regulus a lopsided grin, which he didn't return. "Thanks for...well, you know."

"I'm not doing it for you," Regulus replied sharply. "Slughorn wanted Barty to do it, as he's probably second to Snape in Potions, but he's sitting far too many OWLs to be distracted by the likes of you."

…

James soon grew to realise that Regulus Black was as infuriating as Sirius had always made him out to be.

He used to think that Sirius was exaggerating when he spoke of his arguments and spats with Regulus when he spent the summers and christmases at home. He'd only ever seen Regulus sullenly walking the corridors with his few friends, normally straw-haired Barty Crouch. He appeared to be dark and brooding, with the haughty good looks that Sirius also maintained, but James just figured he was like any other Slytherin. Regulus was quiet—James couldn't recall ever hearing him speak out loud before, so it was hard to imagine him getting into nasty verbal fights with Sirius.

But after just one lesson with Regulus, James could understand why Sirius was always so frustrated and angry with his little brother.

Regulus was, for lack of a better word, rude. He was blunt and sarcastic, and he hardly seemed to have a good word for anything James did. On their first tutoring session, James was waiting patiently for Regulus to arrive, with his cauldron and tools ready, but Regulus magically vanished them as soon as he walked through the door. James initially thought this was some kind of joke, until Regulus threw a copy of Advanced Potion Making onto his desk.

"We're going to brew an Elixir to Induce Euphoria on Thursday," he announced, leaning over James's desk and flipping the book to the right page. "So, you can study the ingredients today. Learn what they are."

"I don't need to spend an entire session learning about ingredients," James muttered. "This isn't how you brew potions. You get the ingredients and follow the instructions."

"How well has that tactic been working for you so far?" Regulus sneered, his lip curling in amusement. He was still leaning over the desk, and James resisted the urge to yank the desk backwards, so that Regulus would fall to the floor.

"I only have eight weeks of these sessions to get better at Potions," James replied. "I'm never going to get anywhere if I have to spend entire lessons learning about the ingredients. Since when does anyone have to learn Potions like this?"

"When someone is so useless that they have to have extra study sessions, they have to learn about the ingredients before they use them." Regulus stood up and smirked, then stalked over to perch on Slughorn's desk. "Get on with it, then."

James's blood boiled with anger, but he forced himself to think of the end goal. I just need to get through these eight weeks, he thought desperately, as he used a quill and ink to scribble down the ingredients that he needed to learn about. I just need to get an Outstanding in my next exam, and this can be over.

…

While sorting his porcupine quills during their second tutoring session, James had unfortunately sliced his finger open on a particularly sharp quill, and subsequently bled a copious amount into the potion he had been brewing.

The blood must have reacted with what had been brewed already, and neither Regulus or James had been able to back away from the cauldron before an explosion occurred, and a cloud of thick, purple-red smoke filled the air. It didn't evaporate quickly, like smoke normally did, and instead settled on anything it touched, leaving splodges of bright red dye all over the desks, the walls, and James and Regulus.

"Oh, Merlin," James gasped, taking off his glasses and trying to clean them on his stained robes. "There's so much blood."

"It isn't blood, you idiot," Regulus hissed dangerously. "It's the shrivelfigs." James noticed at that point that Regulus, who was normally pristinely presented, was covered head-to-toe in the red substance. As the rest of the smoke cleared, Regulus backed away from the desk. "We're cutting this session short. You can clean it up." He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the classroom, not looking back at James.

It had taken James hours to clean up the mess—no normal Scourgify spell would shift the shrivelfig concoction, it only seemed to move it around like sludge. Eventually James had to venture out to a bathroom to get some paper towels, and wipe up the mess the best he could.

It took even longer to get the red dye off himself. He scrubbed himself in the shower until his skin was raw, and when he glanced in the mirror afterwards his skin was tinged with a pale shade of crimson.

Sirius was still awake when James trudged into the dormitory with a towel around his waist. He laughed out loud when he saw James, causing Remus to stir from his bed and blink groggily at James. Peter didn't wake, James noticed thankfully. He didn't really want all three of his friends laughing at him.

"What did my brother do to you?" Sirius asked. "Is that…" he wrinkled his nose.

"Shrivelfig," Remus finished sleepily. "That's the only ingredient I know of with a pigment like that."

James sat down heavily on his bed and rubbed his face. "Does he treat everyone like absolute shit, Pads?" he asked. "Because I've only had two sessions with him, and I'm sure he hates my guts."

"Probably," Sirius replied, propping himself up on his elbow so he could better see James. "He's an arsehole, Prongs. Don't worry too much about him."

"He's just...he's just so…"

"Infuriating?" Sirius finished, and he snorted. "Believe me, I know. I've had to listen to his smart mouth ever since he was old enough to talk." He paused, and looked at James seriously. "I'll talk to him, if you want."

James batted his hand at Sirius and shook his head. "Don't be stupid," he muttered. "I don't want you to do that."

"Yeah, it's probably for the best," Sirius continued. "It'd only give him more reason to take the piss out of you."

…

Regulus made James study the ingredients for the Euphoria Elixir for two more sessions after that, and spend an hour reading a terribly boring essay on the importance of wearing protective equipment when handling potion ingredients.

It was torture, sitting for hours in the evening reading from the countless monotonous books on Herbology and ingredients, while Regulus sat on the desk at the front of the classroom, his long legs crossed one over the other while he quietly read from his own book. He would occasionally glance up at James when he noticed him staring, just long enough to make some smart comment or tell him to get back on with his work.

Every time Regulus responded to his question with something rude or insulted him or his work ethic, James imagined walking across the classroom and giving him a good punch, right in his shrewd mouth. Regulus was smaller and skinnier than him, and James knew he could knock him down a peg or two. But doing so would result in the end of his tutoring sessions, probably receiving a Troll in his upcoming NEWT, and he'd never reach the career of his dreams.

"Are you going to stare at me all evening, Potter?"

James was broken from his thoughts by Regulus's smooth voice, and he felt his face burning. He didn't want to justify Regulus's comment with an answer, so he looked back at his book, forcing himself to re-read a paragraph on the properties of Wormwood.

…

It took another three sessions before James managed to successfully brew an Elixir to Induce Euphoria.

His heart swelled with pride as he beamed at the glowing, sunshine-yellow potion inside his cauldron. "I've done it," he said in disbelief. "I've actually finished a potion. An entire potion!"

Regulus raised an eyebrow at James. He was peering over the cauldron at him, and James noticed that the glow from the cauldron was casting a lovely warmth to Regulus's normally ivory-white skin. "You've never finished a potion before?"

"Never," James replied, staring back down into the cauldron. "I can't believe I've actually done it."

Then, Regulus surprised James so much that he almost toppled face-first into his cauldron. He straightened up, and nodded politely at James. "Well done, Potter. It seems you're not a complete bonehead after all."

"Er...thanks?" James wasn't sure how much of a compliment was in Regulus's words, but he decided to take it anyway.

…

The Quidditch Pitch could be seen from Gryffindor Tower, and James often spent his free time peering through the window in his dormitory, using a pair of rusty Omnioculars to spy on the other houses when they trained. He knew the other teams had their own methods of spying—he'd seen the Hufflepuff Captain pretending to visit the greenhouses by the Quidditch Pitch on many an occasion, and the Ravenclaw team spent time in the Astronomy Tower when other teams were training, pretending to study the stars while their telescopes were actually trained on the pitch.

James didn't know what the Slytherins did to spy on the other house's Quidditch practice, but he was sure they did something. They were just better at hiding it.

He focused his Omnioculars on the Slytherin Quidditch Team, watching the green-clad figures flying around on their broomsticks. He spotted Regulus flying higher above the rest of the team. James had played Quidditch against Regulus before, but he felt as though he was only just really seeing him. His dark, thick hair was blown out with the wind, and his green Quidditch robes were whipping fiercely around him.

James watched as he soared downwards, seemingly after the Snitch. He was getting closer and closer to the ground, and James felt his breath hitch in his chest. He's going to pull the broom up, any minute now.

However, Regulus didn't pull his broom up quick enough and he crashed to the ground, somersaulting across the grass and sending his broom careening into the distance. James cringed inwardly, though a smaller, meaner part of him felt a tiny bit of glee at seeing the normally perfect Regulus fail at something.

"Your brother isn't all that great at Quidditch, is he?" James mused aloud to Sirius.

Sirius snorted. "Well, didn't you wonder why we keep managing to beat Slytherin? He's a good Seeker, but his flying techniques aren't brilliant."

"Didn't you play with him when you were kids?" James asked, but he knew the answer as soon as he asked the question out loud. Sirius had absolutely no interest in broomsticks or Quidditch, unlike James, so it wouldn't surprise him to hear that he never practiced with Regulus when they were young.

"Mother didn't let ickle Reggie ride a broomstick until he came to Hogwarts," Sirius explained. "She was just terrified of him having a nasty accident." Sirius paused. "Though, if you ask me, it might have done him good to get bruised up with a few nasty Quidditch practices. Might have knocked him down a peg or two."

James didn't reply. He was watching the Quidditch pitch again, focusing on Regulus, who was back on his feet and arguing furiously with the Slytherin Captain. He was dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot and his pale skin blemished with grass stains and dirt and the reddening patches of early bruising. It was interesting to James, to see him so angry and emotional, when he was normally so poised and sharp-tongued.

Very interesting.

…

James couldn't concentrate during their next tutoring session. He listened to Regulus talk monotonously about the Draught of Living Death, which was apparently an extremely hard potion that even the most advanced Potioneers would struggle to make, but James wasn't really hearing his words. Regulus had a yellowing bruise on his cheek which James couldn't stop looking at.

"What happened to your face?" he asked when Regulus finally stopped talking. Even though James knew exactly what caused the bruise, he was intrigued to know whether Regulus would give him an honest answer.

"You should mind your own business," Regulus replied sharply.

James stifled a laugh.

"Something funny, Potter?" Regulus put his hands on the desk, flattening his palms against the wood either side of James's book. His voice was brimming with irritation, and James looked up at him.

"Of course not," he replied. "I just...don't know why I asked. I should have known you'd just be an arse."

Regulus curled his lip, and James willed himself not to glance at it. "We're not here to chit-chat. You're supposed to be learning about the next potion in your syllabus, or don't you want to pass your NEWT?"

Regulus was trying to irritate him, and James felt the familiar sensation of annoyance coiling in his stomach. "I was just making conversation." James stared back at Regulus, leaning back in his chair, until Regulus rolled his eyes and stalked back to Slughorn's desk at the front of the classroom. "Looks like a Quidditch injury to me," he added, grinning when Regulus snapped his head back to glare at James.

"Just get on with your reading."

"Listen," James closed his book. "Even though your methods are...unique...you've helped me with Potions, okay? I'd never actually managed to brew anything until that Euphoria Elixir."

Regulus perched on Slughorn's desk like he normally did, watching James as he packed his copy of Advanced Potion Making into his rucksack. James walked to the front of the classroom to join Regulus, and swung his bag onto his shoulder. Regulus stared at him with mild interest, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I'm trying to say thank you, if you'll accept it and not say something sarcastic," James continued. "And...if you want, as a thank you, I don't mind practicing Quidditch with you, if you want." He shifted awkwardly on his feet, already dreading Regulus's answer.

Regulus's eyes sharpened instantly. "Aren't you charming?" He said, his voice almost cutting through the air. "What makes you think I need you to help me practice Quidditch?"

"Well…the bruise..." James gestured to his own face, and Regulus reached up to touch his bruised cheek. "Look, I don't care, okay? If you want to train with me, I stay on the pitch for an extra hour after Gryffindor finishes practice on a Friday evening. You can meet me at about eight, if you want."

Regulus opened his mouth to retort, but much to James's surprise, he didn't instantly reply. Instead, he jumped down from the desk and looked up at James through his dark eyelashes for a long, lingering moment. "How sweet," he said softly, though his voice was laced with something that James didn't quite trust. He swallowed nervously and then cleared his throat.

"Yeah." He turned away from Regulus, who was still staring eerily at him with his dark, unreadable eyes. "Well, see you later."

…

"You invited him to play Quidditch with you?" Sirius hissed. "Were you dropped on your head as a baby?If he turns up, the entire Slytherin Quidditch team will probably be behind him, ready to learn your secrets."

James rolled his eyes and threw one of his pillows across the dormitory at Sirius. "All the Quidditch teams are spying on each other, Pads," he snapped. "Whatever Slytherin is doing to spy on us, it's not like it's doing Regulus any good, is it?"

"What if he gets so good at Quidditch that they beat us in the next match?" Sirius demanded. "You're rubbing elbows with the enemy, you are."

"He's your brother, you idiot."

"Exactly. I know more than anyone how slippery he is. He'll definitely have something planned."

"Well, he won't, because if you remember, it was me who asked him to join me for a practice session, and he definitely wasn't happy about the suggestion."

Sirius only shook his head and ran a hand through his long, wavy hair. "I don't know, mate. It's your funeral."

…

A storm was picking up the next time Gryffindor were practicing, but it didn't stop the team from attending training. The rain lashed against James as he played, the Impervius charm on his glasses was barely holding, making it almost impossible to see. By the time the team touched ground again, James was soaked through to his skin and freezing. He hoped that Regulus would have the sense not to show up.

He hung around for ten minutes after the rest of the team trudged up to the castle. He was just about to follow after them, thankful that Regulus hadn't taken up the offer, when he spotted a hooded figure hurrying across the pitch towards him, broom in hand. Regulus pulled his hood down when he reached James, seemingly unbothered by the rain that instantly started plastering his hair to his face.

"You came," James said. "Are you sure you want to practice...the weather isn't exactly ideal."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Are you scared of a bit of rain?" Lightning flashed behind Regulus as he spoke, and the rain hammered down even harder. "I thought you Gryffindors weren't afraid of anything."

James rolled his eyes and huffed. "Fine." He mounted his broom again and kicked off into the stormy sky.

…

They lasted about ten minutes in the air before James grew tired of Regulus's bad attitude and shot back down to the ground, landing expertly on his feet. Regulus was still about fifteen feet high, and he peered down at James. "Are you giving up already?"

James glared up at Regulus, ignoring the rain lashing down on his face. He was sick of flying with Regulus already. He couldn't offer him the slightest bit of polite advice without Regulus giving him a biting remark or throwing an insult his way. He was fed up. He just wanted to helphim out, as a thanks for the Potions tutoring. But Regulus just couldn't give up talking shit for five minutes.

James pulled a painted golden ball out of his pocket, a bad replica of the Golden Snitch, which he had been throwing around the pitch for Regulus to catch. He held it up in the air and watched Regulus, who eyed him suspiciously. "I bet you can't fly down here and snatch this ball out of my hand without crashing your broom!" He shouted up to Regulus, smirking.

Regulus stared down at James, his dark eyes narrowing. James glanced at the bruise on his cheek and waited for him to decide on his answer.

"Fine," Regulus muttered. James barely heard him above the storm, but he saw the word form on his lips. "Easy."

James held the ball aloft, watching as Regulus positioned his broom, and began to nosedive to the ground.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Regulus had his eyes trained firmly on James, as he leaned determinedly over the handle of his broom. He stretched out a hand as he neared James, reaching for the ball in his hand. James didn't have time to duck out of the way as Regulus's hand grabbed his fist. He didn't pull the broom up and try to take it back to the sky—he seemed to have forgotten all about that last part of the move while he was so focused on snatching the ball.

Regulus crashed into James, sending them both sprawling to the wet, muddy ground. Regulus's sharp elbows dug into James's chest and he coughed, trying to push Regulus's weight off him. When they both finally got to their feet, Regulus was glaring up at James with burning eyes.

"You did that on purpose!" he spat.

"Did what?" James snapped. The rain was coming down even heavier, and he could barely hear Regulus over the thunder. He grabbed his broom from the ground and started sloshing through the watery pitch to the changing room, with Regulus hot on his heels.

"You made me do that move!" Regulus yelled as he followed James into the changing room. "You knew I'd crash land. You wanted me to fail."

"Why would I want you to crash into me like that?" James spun around to face Regulus once they were under the cover of the changing room.

"I don't know!" Regulus started to peel off layers of his sopping Quidditch robes. "You probably thought it was hilarious to see me fail like that."

"Yes, hilarious," James snarled, shrugging out of his own robes. "Really funny, the way you almost punctured my lung with your elbow. Just what I wanted to achieve for a really comedic prank."

Regulus threw his wet robe at James, who managed to dodge it. He was only wearing his underclothes, which were just as wet as his robes, and James realised he hated the way that Regulus still seemed so impeccably presented when he was soaked through and wearing next to nothing.

He glared at Regulus until he felt something snap inside of him, and before he knew what he was doing, he had his wand in his hand. "I'm so sick of you!" he yelled, and Regulus stared at his face, then at his wand.

"What are you doing, Potter? Are you threatening me?"

James moved closer to Regulus, shoving the tip of his wand to Regulus's throat. He wanted to see him panic, to see him break. He wanted to see something other than the condescending, irritating, beautiful expression that Regulus normally wore.

Regulus tried to maintain his composure, but there was a brief flicker in Regulus's eyes that betrayed him. James smirked. "You're all bark but no bite, aren't you?"

"Bombarda," spat Regulus, and James flinched a moment too late. He didn't even notice that Regulus had his own wand in his hand. Before he could defend himself, Regulus's exploding charm blasted him backwards into a changing bench. The bench collapsed with the force of James crashing into it, and he staggered to his feet, groaning. "Stop fucking around, Potter." Regulus said, combing his hand through hair. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You're the one who can't stop acting like a child!" James snarled. "Incendio!" He shot a blaze of flames in Regulus's direction. Regulus jumped out of the way, and the wall that he had been standing in front of went up in flames.

"Finite Incantatem!" a shrill voice suddenly yelled. The flames evaporated instantly, leaving nothing but a soot-stained wall. Madam Hooch stood in a set of blue plaid pyjamas, her short grey hair wrapped in a hairnet. Despite her unconventional appearance, she looked just as menacing as ever. "Expelliarmus!"

James and Regulus's wands shot out of their hands and into Madam Hooch's, and she held them firmly in one hand, glaring between them both.

"What the hell is going on here?" she hissed.

"Madam Hooch," James started, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry. We were...we were just practicing…"

"Yeah," Regulus agreed quickly. "We got into an argument."

"James Potter, you are Head Boy!" snapped Madam Hooch. "Even though I should know by now to expect shenanigans from you, I do not expect you to trash the changing room!" She turned to Regulus. "And as for you, Regulus Black—I certainly never expected such behaviour from you!"

Regulus looked at his feet, and James picked at his fingernails awkwardly.

"You're both in detention. Effective immediately," Madam Hooch continued. "You can spend the rest of the night right here, fixing the mess you have made. I will be back here when the sun rises, and if this changing room isn't back to normal by then," she paused, her yellow eyes flashing dangerously. "You will be going straight to Professor Dumbledore's office."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the changing room, taking the wands with her, and closed the door sharply behind her. James hurried after her and tried the door, but it was useless.

"She's locked us in."

…

Regulus started washing down the blackened wall instantly, using warm water from the showers and paper towels. James watched as Regulus stood on a bench to reach the highest points where the fire had reached, unable to believe he was witnessing Regulus Black cleaning.

"Are you planning on helping tonight, or are you just going to stare at me?" Regulus said without turning around. "I know you couldn't give a crap about your track record, but I have a reputation to uphold. I can't…" Regulus's voice tailed off as he wiped away a final smudge of black from the tiled wall, and then he stepped down from the bench.

There was no point in trying to fix the smashed bench, so James just shoved the broken pieces of wood into the corner of the changing room, so he could fix it with magic as soon as Madam Hooch gave him his wand back in the morning. He glanced at Regulus, who had taken a seat on the bench and was running a hand through his dark, wet hair. "What can't you do?" James asked.

"I can't risk my parents finding out about something like this," Regulus whispered, looking down at the floor.

James sat on a bench across from Regulus, and peeled off his wet undershirt. "I'm sure they won't find out," he replied. "Hooch will probably just write us up to Dumbledore. We'll lose some house points."

Regulus shrugged. "I suppose."

James rubbed the back of his head, feeling slightly awkward. "I didn't think we'd have this place tidied up so quickly," he said. "We're going to have to sleep in here now." He stood up and walked over to a storage cupboard, pulling it open and starting to root through the contents. "I'll see if I can find something for us to use."

Regulus watched silently as James dug around in the cupboard. He managed to find towels and a rolled up, musty sleeping bag. He threw a towel at Regulus, who started to rub his face and hair with it, and spread the sleeping bag out on the floor.

"You can have it, if you want." James didn't look at Regulus as he spoke.

"No, it's fine," Regulus replied. "I probably won't sleep anyway." He stood up and faced away from James as he started to pull off his damp underclothes, shedding the layers and dropping them to the floor.

James tried not to look. He tried to convince himself he wasn't interested in having a sneaky glance at Regulus, whose expanses of pale skin he could see in his peripheral vision. James had been in this changing room a thousand times with the other boys on the Gryffindor team, and it was normal for them to strip down to their birthday suits and run into the showers. James had never felt nervous about being around another naked bloke before now.

He peered over at Regulus just as he wrapped the towel around his waist. Dark hair tickled the nape of his slender neck, and his back was blanch white and unblemished. James swallowed and looked away, feeling heat rising in his face.

Regulus annoyed him so much. Regulus exasperated him, riled him, provoked him. He didn't want to be thinking about how attractive of a back Regulus had.

While Regulus had his back turned, James shuffled out of his own wet underclothes and dried himself down the best he could with the towel. Once he was satisfied, he climbed under the cover of the sleeping bag quickly, if anything just to cover up his nakedness. Regulus sat down on the bench with his towel still wrapped around his waist and leaned his head back against the wall.

…

James was just slipping into the throes of sleep when he was startled awake by Regulus breathing sharply. They had switched the lights off a while ago, so it was hard to see properly through the darkness, but James could just about make out Regulus. He had his arms wrapped around himself, as though he was trying to rub warmth into his skin. James sighed, knowing that what he was going to ask Regulus would probably get him some kind of insult in return.

"Regulus?"

"Hm?"

"Come and get in the sleeping bag."

Regulus laughed weakly; a short, sharp sound. "Shut up, James."

James rolled his eyes in the dark, and sat up. "You're freezing. I can hear you shaking. It's freezing in here. Come on."

"I'm not getting in bed with you."

"Technically it's a sleeping bag."

"Well, I'm not getting in a sleeping bag with you." Regulus paused. "Besides, you're naked in there."

James smirked. "Are you scared of a naked man, Regulus?"

There was a pause, and James knew instantly that Regulus wasn't going to be defeated in the face of a challenge. He scoffed and James heard his towel drop to the floor, then Regulus crawled onto the sleeping bag, shimmying inside it besides James.

James realised pretty quickly that there was barely enough room to breathe. Regulus was pressing up against his chest, and James became suddenly aware that their bare skin was touching. Regulus burrowed down into the sleeping bag, no longer shivering, and he sighed. James felt warmer already.

"You better not tell anyone about this," Regulus mumbled suddenly. His mouth was close to James's ear, and he felt a tingling in his stomach as he spoke. "Are you listening?"

"Of course I'm not going to tell anyone," James replied. "What would I even say? Oh yes, me and Regulus Black got into a huge fight after he failed a Wronski Feint, we were wet and angry and we trashed the changing room, so Madam Hooch locked us in to clean it up and we had to share a sleeping bag just to stay warm. Naked."

"You're right," Regulus muttered. "No one would ever believe it. You sound ridiculous."

"You sound ridiculous," James repeated.

Regulus shoved him in the abdomen. "Don't be a child."

"Don't be a child," mocked James, and he poked Regulus roughly in the ribs. Regulus squirmed and tried to prod James back, but James grabbed his hands and held them firmly out of reach.

Regulus was breathing heavily, James noticed suddenly. Their faces were closer together than they needed to be. He wondered if Regulus could feel how hard his heart was beating through his chest.

James dared to lean forwards first. He ghosted his lips across Regulus's, testing the waters, waiting for Regulus to laugh in his face and shove him away.

He didn't.

He kissed James back, softly, tentatively, his lips barely moving against James's. They pulled apart, staring at each other through the dark. James could see silver flecks in Regulus's grey eyes. He'd never noticed it before.

James and Regulus lunged at each other suddenly, crashing together in a mess of teeth and tongues. James's hands slid around Regulus's hips, and Regulus wrapped his arms around James's neck, clinging onto him tightly. They kissed desperately, needily, their tongues sliding together as they found a rhythm. James sucked on Regulus's bottom lip and reached up his back to card a hand through his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck. He sucked kisses along Regulus's throat, and Regulus released a moan.

"You're not so smart now, are you?" James whispered into Regulus's neck. "Where's your sarcastic comments, Reg? Where's that sharp tongue of yours?"

Regulus only whined in response, clawing at James's back desperately.

"I'd have done this much sooner if I knew how easy it would be to shut you up." James found Regulus's mouth again, and pushed him onto his back as he kissed him, leaning over him. It was thrilling to James, hearing the strangled noises escape Regulus's mouth and knowing that he was making him come undone. Regulus, who was always guarded and perfect and poised and holding himself with an air of elegance that no one could break through. At least not until now.

…

When daylight started to gleam through the foggy glass of the windows, James's eyes fluttered open. He didn't want to move, even though his back was aching from sleeping on the hard floor in the sleeping bag. His limbs ached from the cold, but he was comfortable, so much more comfortable than he'd ever been before.

Regulus was curled up next to him, his head on James's chest, snoring softly. James had his arm wrapped firmly around Regulus's shoulders, and their legs were tangled together inside the sleeping bag. James looked down at Regulus. He was so...delicate in the throes of sleep. His face was relaxed, not marred with the harsh, snooty expressions he tried so hard to keep up during the day. His mouth was slightly open, breathing short, shallow breaths as he slept.

He didn't want to wake Regulus. He didn't want them to have to go back to normal, once they left the changing room. But Madam Hooch would be back soon, and the last thing they needed to be explaining was how and why they ended up curled up inside a sleeping bag together, naked.

"Reg," James muttered, gently shaking Regulus. "Wake up."

"Hnnngh," complained Regulus. He burrowed his head into James's chest, then forced himself to sit up, rubbing his face with his hands. James staggered to his feet, grabbing the towel he had used the night before to cover his dignity, and picked up his Quidditch robes. They were still wet.

"Great," he grumbled, throwing the damp articles back on the bench.

"There's lost property in the storage cupboard," Regulus offered, his voice still sleepy.

James furrowed his brow. "What, spare clothes?"

Regulus looked over his shoulder at James and nodded.

James walked over to the storage cupboard, the same one where he had found the sleeping bag. There was a wicker basket on a high shelf, with a label reading 'lost property'. James pulled it down. There were several pieces of Quidditch underclothes with no house label. James looked back at Regulus. "Did you know about this all along?"

Regulus shrugged. "Maybe."

"We could have had clothes to wear to sleep in. We wouldn't have had to sleep naked!" James pulled out a shirt and a pair of plain leggings, and shoved the basket over to Regulus.

Regulus smirked as he picked out some clothes for himself.

"Where would have been the fun in that?"

Written For:

- Assignment #10/Etiquette Task #1: Write about someone revealing a bit (or a lot) of skin.

- Race to the Top of Mount Potter/Checkpoint 13: (trope) Sharing a bed

- Writing Club/Gotta Catch Em All: 16. (substance) Smoke

- Writing Club/Written in the Stars: 6. (word) brooding

- Writing Club/Film Festival: 18. (word) escape

- Writing Club/Hobby Hole: 11. (trope) Enemies to Lovers

- Writing Club/Artist Appreciation: 19. Write about the development and progression of a new relationship.

- Writing Club/Buttons: Objects 3. Quill

- Writing Club/TV Spree: 25. (dialogue) "Are you planning on helping tonight?"

- Writing Club/Sophie's Smut Bucket: 1. (word) Moan

- Autumn Seasonal/Sarcastic Month: 3. (dialogue) "Were you dropped on your head as a baby?"

- Autumn Seasonal/Jewellery Month: 43. (object) Clock

- Autumn Seasonal/World Teacher's Day: 26. Horace Slughorn

- Autumn Seasonal/Colours: 5. Silver

- Autumn Seasonal/Crystals & Gemstones: 5. (weather) Storm

- Potions Making/Ingredients: Tincture of Thyme 3. (emotion) Embarrassed

- Sandwich Time/Cheeses 17. (action) flying

- November Monthly Insert Title: 17. (dialogue) "I'm not afraid of you."

- TV Tropes: 24. Aggressive Submissive - A mouthy or aggressive character becomes submissive if they're having sex.

- Celebrating Women: 1. (dialogue) "Aren't you charming?"

- Moony's Neon Cafe/Drinks: 9. (action) shivering