A/N: Prompts: 19. (Relationship) Cop(or Auror)/Murderer / (Dialogue) "We probably shouldn't be doing this." / (Pairing) James/Regulus

Warnings: This was written for Murder March, so it's darker than what I usually write. Please don't read if murder is not your cup of tea, or if violence and implied sexual content makes you uncomfortable.


"We probably shouldn't be doing this."

"Only probably?" Regulus murmured darkly into the hollow of his throat. "You don't sound sure."

"We definitely shouldn't be doing this," James said, but he made no move to pull away, to stop Regulus from kissing a path along his skin. He let his head thunk back against the wall, staring unseeing at the faint, swinging light up ahead.

The warehouse was empty and out of sight, but if anyone walked in right now, James's career would be toast. There was no mistaking their position, their feverish hands all over each other. James knew it was wrong, but that only made it harder to stop it from happening.

"Tell me," James said. "Tell me what this one did."

Regulus paused, lips barely brushing his skin. There were no doubt already bruises there, but he liked to leave them dark and mottled, as though he could press ownership into James with just his mouth. He drew back just slightly, still crowding him against the dark corner, and cocked his head.

"What makes you think this one did anything?" Regulus asked.

James met his gaze evenly. He didn't miss the way Regulus looked at him, a quick once-over that lingered despite its swiftness. He knew what he looked like: his shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was a tousled mess, and his Auror badge was on the floor at his feet, tossed aside the moment Regulus cornered him.

Regulus, somehow, looked far more put together than him, dressed neatly in a shirt and pressed slacks. He'd even combed his hair. If it weren't for the bloody gloves disposed of nearby and the man who was certainly bleeding to death in the adjoining room, he would have been a picture of innocence.

"They've always done something," James said, and raised a hand to touch his chin, to thumb at his plump lower lip. "You think I don't know that you only go after the bad guys?"

"Does it help?" Regulus said. "Does it help if I tell you that the man beats his wife, that he treats his employees like dirt? Do you want to know about the affairs and the fraud?"

James said nothing. Regulus's grip tightened on James's hips, holding him against the wall.

"Is that how you excuse it?" he muttered softly, and James almost flinched, but held it in. "Does it help you sleep at night if you think of me as some kind of vigilante, someone who wipes the muck and scum off the earth while everyone else sleeps soundly?"

Regulus crowded him even closer to the wall, kissing him on the mouth. There was a weak-sounding noise from down the hall, a sound that echoed before tapering off. James shivered. Part of him, as always, wanted to run, wanted to lift his wand and put an end to this. But he could never make himself do it.

"Does it make it okay to want me, James?" Regulus said.

"No," James admitted. "But I want you anyway."

The look Regulus aimed at him was dark, wanting. It sent heat rolling through him, a thick and heady wave. James sucked in a breath and reached out to touch, but Regulus snagged both of his wrists and pressed both of them to the wall above his head. His grip was firm, unyielding. The heat only grew, turning his mind to syrup.

"I want you anyway," he said again, relishing the soft hiss that left Regulus's mouth. "It drives me mad. Do you know how many times I've nearly been caught at work thinking about you? They bring up your name or one of your victims, and I know it's you, I know exactly what you've done, but the only thing I can think is that I want to see you again. Fuck, Regulus. You've ruined me."

Regulus's reaction was immediate and satisfying; he took his mouth in a bruising kiss, kissing him until they were both breathless and giddy. "Not yet," he said, pulling away, wild-eyed and mouth red. "I haven't even started ruining you yet."

James hooked an ankle around his calf and gave him a nudge. "Feel free to get on with it."


[Word Count: 700]