This is starting to become a problem.
James sighs, turning his head again to take in Regulus, lying on his side with his hair splayed across his pillow, sleeping face the picture of innocence. James wants to reach out, to trace Regulus' features and feel those pink lips against his fingertips. They look so soft, and James feels a bolt of irritation towards drunk-James, who must've kissed those lips a thousand times but never bothered to remember.
James' eyes focus again as Regulus' eyelids flutter, dark lashes quivering against his pale cheekbones, his face scrunching as he struggles to wake through what James knows must be a killer hangover. He vaguely remembers Regulus downing shots like water last night, not slowing, even when Sirius got concerned enough to intervene. Regulus just flipped him off and grabbed Barty's vodka, sculling it with no pause, Sirius frozen in awe and shocked resignation.
"Morning, gorgeous," James mumbles, voice flat with tired sarcasm. Regulus finally opens his eyes, blinking the bleariness away. James can see when he realises just who he's in bed with.
"For fuck's sake," Regulus groans, rolling onto his back and pressing his palms to his eyes, like if he can't see James, James will cease to exist. "How is it always you."
"Yeah, I'm not the happiest about this either," James says, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Regulus, who still seems to be trying to manifest James' disappearance.
"Just-" Regulus starts, visibly frustrated. James wants to feel bad, but it's not really his fault, is it? "Just get your things and get out."
James nods, even though Regulus can't see it, climbing out of the bed and picking through the pile of clothes next to it, separating his from Regulus'. This was a routine he'd become accustomed with, too many mornings where he's woken up in the bed of his best friend's little brother, naked and without any memory of the previous night. It never used to be such a frequent thing, usually only once every few months from fifth to sixth year when someone held an inter-house party. The first time it happened, James almost died from a heart attack and couldn't look Sirius in the eyes for a week.
But now, ever since Marlene and Dorcas got together three months ago, James has woken up in the Slytherin dormitories almost every second week, their two friend groups being frequent partiers and/or alcohol consumers, the two things that James and Regulus have come to dread the most.
"See you at breakfast?" James offers, pushing past the awkward silence that blankets them. Regulus hums noncommittally in response, reaching out and snapping his curtains shut.
That's that then.
Neither of them talk about it. Not to devise a solution, or to discuss boundaries or whether they'd told anyone. The most Regulus and James talk at all is a few bitter greetings in the morning that always end with James pulling up his trousers and sneaking through the Slytherin common room, which is exactly what he's doing now.
James has been very lucky with leaving Regulus' dorm, usually waking up at unreasonably early times thanks to his rigorous training schedule. He rises at five am every day without fail, except on the weekend, when he will gladly sleep in til ten. Today is a Friday, so he leaves Regulus' room around five-thirty and tiptoes down to the common room, hallways empty. He knows he's got to be quick, but today his hangover is exceptionally bad, so he moves slower.
When he reaches the common room, Snape is there, sitting in the corner reading a book. James hovers in the doorway, eyes darting between Snape and the door. His chances of getting past Snape without being seen are... slim. Not impossible, but also very impossible. It's too early for this.
At least he tries. Unsuccessfully, sure, but it's a decent attempt given the current circumstances. He gets about a quarter-ways through the room, edging silently towards the door, when Snape looks up and sees him. James freezes and is suddenly reminded that the disillusionment charm exists and would've been very useful towards his current crusade of trying to melt into the wall.
"Potter?" Snape asks, brows furrowed in confusement.
"No," James replies. Snape's confusion morphs into annoyance, his beady eyes glaring from behind his book. James is backing towards the door, slowly putting more distance between himself and Snape.
"What are you doing here?" Snape says, approaching James much faster than James is backing away.
"Just, you know," James says, glancing behind himself to make sure he doesn't trip. "Head boy things."
"I'm sure," Snape curls his lip up, snarling. James' back hits the door, and he gropes behind himself for the handle, shoulders sagging when his hand closes around cold iron.
He and Snape stare at each other, both with thoughts of equal contempt running through their heads. James lets the silence linger for a moment or two, just because he loves the rush that the hatred between him and Snape brings. Then, with a wink and a smirk, he's twisting the handle and stumbling out the door, slamming it in Snape's face.
James slumps against the door, lingering, before blowing out a sigh of relief. It felt like a bit of a miracle that Snape didn't announce his presence to the whole damn house, but there'd no doubt be rumours at breakfast. No mind. James has been subject to the rumour mill enough times to know no one ever put too much stock in it.
He pushes off the door and continues down the hallway and out of the dungeon, sticking his hands in his pockets and trying to shake off his headache. Hangovers are the second worse thing to wake up to after a drunken night. The first being Regulus Black, of course.
He slowly makes his way to the Gryffindor tower, hoping to creep back into his bed and catch up on the sleep he no doubtedly lost last night. It's something he's done time and time again after his and Regulus' nightly escapades, except he's never sure what exactly awaits him when he walks into his dorm. Sometimes it'll be a silent room, filled with the soft snores of his friends. Sometimes there'll be someone sitting on his bed with a vicious smile, enquiring politely about his night.
Today, when James peers around his dorm door and tiptoes into the room, there are two beds empty. Neither of them is his. He furrows his brow, eyes wandering around the room to find where his bed is standing with its curtains drawn tight around it.
This is suspicious.
He approaches his bed carefully, all the pranks he's been subjected to over the years flashing through his mind, cautioning him. Once he woke up with a bear in his bed. He's been mistrustful of all bed-related incidents since.
James stops by the closed curtains, hesitating. He glances over to where Peter is sleeping, trying to find solace in his friends' presence. Peter would defend him from whatever monstrous creature may be lying in his bed, right?
Biting his lip, James reaches out to grip the edges of his curtains. He breathes deeply, reminding himself that he is a very paranoid person and there probably isn't anything to worry about. With this thought in the forefront of his mind, he whips the curtains apart, trying not to flinch when it reveals-
-Sirius and Remus, tangled together and naked on his bed.
Oh, this is way worse than a bear.
~~~
I just wanted to post smtg lmao, it's been so long since I shared smtg for a fandom I'm actively in
So yeah, this. Titles still a wip, when I actually edit this and finish it, I'll post the full thing on ao3 as a oneshot prob. But currently I have 5 000 words and abt 10 000 more words of just ideas I wanna include. This is mostly just me throwing in all the wackest shit for funnsies to see whats up. It will also change drastically with my mood, whether I wanna write angst or whatever, when I'm in my 'feels' ⛓️🖤😫🥀.
Anyhow thx for reading, rock on slayerz 😔🤌✨
