Chapter Text
“Never thought I’d see a face as damn pretty as yours anywhere ‘round here.”
Reguls swivels in his barstools to eye the man in front of him, who seems to be trying to incinerate Regulus’ clothes off with his gaze. A smooth sweep of those deep umber eyes up Regulus’ figure, taking in the fishnet-clad thighs through black jeans so distressed they may as well not even be there. He knows his thighs look perfect, delicious and milky-smooth under the dim lights of the up-scale lounge bar, hardly ever frequented by anyone under 40, let alone somebody like Regulus- 20 and normally dressing like he belongs at a college rave.
This time, though, he didn’t go overboard. But he knows he looks good, from the unsubtle glances the older men keep stealing at his bare midriff, catching his kohl-rimmed eyes over their glasses of Bruichladdich. He knows the jewellery in his ear and belly catch the light just right, his lips plump and red, the tight green crop top he’s aware brings out his eyes.
“That brings out your eyes, by the way.” The man says lowly, taking a sip of his drink as he keeps his eyes fixed on Regulus’.
“I’m aware, but thank you.” Regulus says politely, turning back to summon the bartender. “A Lemon Drop, please.” The bartender nods and flings a towel over his shoulder as he prepares the drink.
Regulus stares straight ahead, pretending to be zoned out, thinking- but he can feel the man’s eyes still fixed on the side of his head. He hopes he doesn’t speak again, so Regulus can save them both the awkwardness of having to reject him and move seats- but, then again, when do men ever take the hint?
“It’s on me.” He tells the bartender, turning his head slightly towards the bar, but not ripping his gaze off Regulus. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”
“What’s it to you?” Regulus sighs exasperatedly.
The man huffs a laugh. “Feisty, huh? Just asking, baby. Go on- I won’t bite.”
Regulus supposes he’ll humour him. No point causing a scene when he’s trying to have a nice night out. “Regulus.” He answers curtly.
“Regulus, is it?” The man seems to taste the name in his mouth, sucking it to the roof of his mouth like a lolly, chewing on the sound, each syllable seeping through his teeth like molasses, thick and sweet and sticky. “Well, what brings you out here this time of night, Regulus?
Regulus just shrugs and fiddles with his straw as his drink is finally served, grateful for the distraction.
The man, once again- does not take the hint.
“No one waiting for you at home, Regulus?” He hisses, voice dropping lower- and Regulus isn’t in the mood for this shit. Why can’t he just enjoy his fucking Lemon Drop in peace?
“Yes. Yes there is. My husband is waiting for me.” He flashes the ring on his left hand, the weighty emerald refracting under the low glow of the lamps.
“He’s at home writing his dissertation for his masters , and he really wouldn’t be happy to know that some old man is trying to hit me up like a teenager in what is supposed to be a sophisticated establishment.” He knows he’s being a little bit petulant- but he likes to show off the recent development. He loves his husband. Sue him.
Regulus is sure this is gonna be it- but the man just chuckles, and doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest.
Narcissistic, egotistical prick.
“Alright, and?” The asshole has the audacity to sound smug.
Scoffing, Regulus turns to him in earnest. If he’s gonna turn on the disrespect, Regulus can do that too.
But the words go extinct on his tongue.
He realises he didn’t fully take the man in- he’s a lot younger than he thought. Can’t be more than 30, really, with tousled brown curls that sweep over the top of the round, gold-rimmed glasses, that he knows are absurdly expensive for being two pieces of glass and a thin metal frame.
Those brown eyes bore into Regulus even more intensely, the playfulness evident in the glimmering fragments of bronze. His lips are full, and Regulus follows the movement of him sweeping his tongue across the bottom one, and feels the spit dry in his mouth.
The light five-o’clock shadow looks like it would be coarse to the touch, a pleasant scratch Regulus has the urge to drag the pad of his finger through.
After what could’ve been 3 seconds, or hours, or the beginning and end and beginning again of the universe- Regulus finds his voice.
Or, well- some semblance of it.
“A-and- I- and-” He stutters pathetically.
The stranger seems to find this very amusing. “Well, Regulus. I think your darling husband should know better than to let a pretty little thing like you out on your own this late. There’s men, you know, that are looking to take a bite.”
He sweeps his lazy gaze up Regulus’ body once again, and he’s floating- this time, he can’t help but preen, almost instinctual.
Regulus swallows, gripping the stem of his glass, trying to find ground again.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should know better.” He can’t believe he’s saying this, behind his husband’s back. His husband, who he loves. But it’s as if his tongue is detached from his body. His thoughts are fragmented, words coming out before he approves the content. But the stranger’s dark lashes are sin, the hand curled around his whiskey glass a necklace waiting to be worn.
“He’s just always so busy. What do you suppose I do about it?” Regulus pouts.
“That’s not up to me, sweetheart. You want me to leave you alone? I’ll leave you alone. I’ll drop you off safe and sound at your husband's doorstep.” He takes a slow sip.
“Or, you want me to show that tight, pretty pink ass a good time, I’ll do that too.”
Regulus feels himself flush at the boldness, the crudeness coming from someone in an expensive dress shirt, wearing the bulkiest Rolex he’s ever seen in his life.
“But I- my husband-”
“He doesn’t have to know.” The stranger simply shrugs, as if this is a common occurrence for him. Offering to fuck married men in a lounge bar bathroom.
Before Regulus can get what he knows should be a firm “No, fuck the fuck off” past his lips, the man stands up, and- god - his slacks are tailored perfectly, clutching the muscled globes of his ass and straining across the thighs.
It’s not words, but drool that comes out of Regulus’ mouth instead.
A hand clamps down on his wrist- gentle; Regulus can pull away if he wants to, but he can also give in. He’s at a crossroads.
He looks to the bartender, but the man offers no help- just rolling his eyes as if he’s seen this a million times before.
Regulus looks back into those eyes, meets that smirk- and he knows his answer.
Fuck.
He’s such a shitty fucking husband.
It’s as if the man read his mind- he smiles wider in triumph and leads Regulus towards the bathroom.
They make it into a stall silently, and Regulus is marvelling at how he hasn’t tripped. His head is spinning with the impact of what he’s about to do.
“Well, Regulus, I may as well know the name of the poor sod whose husband I’m about to shove my cock into. If you moan some name other than his while you’re being fucked raw, I might do the right thing and tell him. Because that’s really quite shitty, you know.” He says, almost on the edge of a laugh.
“It’s…” It feels like sacrilege, saying his husband's name here.
“Go on, baby. We don’t have all night. I’m assuming.”
“James. My husband’s name is James.” He finally gets out.
The man nods slowly, as if he’s thinking something over.
A few seconds pass, and Regulus thinks maybe this is cue to leave-
But suddenly he’s swung around, his palms planted on the door in front of him, his legs shoved apart. Hands fumble with his fly, pulling down his jeans and fishnets in one go to reveal his lack of underwear beneath.
A moment passes, and then breath is punched out of Regulus as a wide hand comes down right where his ass meets his thigh, hard.
“Fuck, that’s dirty.” Muttered from behind him, and he feels fingers probing at the rounded glass insert that protrudes out of his entrance.
“You’re gonna let me fuck you with your husbands cum still plugged up inside you? Fuck, you slut. Such a fucking whore, pretty boy.”
Regulus whimpers at the names. “My husband would- fuck- he would kill you. He’s strong, you know. Linebacker shoulders.”
“Mhm, I’m sure.” The man says noncommittally, “What was his name again? Jack, was it?”
“No, Jame- Ah!” Regulus exclaims as the plug is roughly yanked out of him, leaving his hole gaping obscenely, fluttering helplessly as rivulets of cum ooze out, coating his thighs.
“Fucking hell, there must be at least- what? Three, four loads in here. Did you get fucked by some other guy too before I got here? Or no, maybe your husband knows what you’re up to. And he sends you out here, like a free-for-use whore, filled and still desperate for more.” He swirls his fingers through the mess, smearing it around Regulus’ thighs even more.
“Look at this. That greedy fuckin’ hole, still begging for more.” A thick finger breaches him, and Regulus can do nothing but breathe in, out, in through his nose.
“Come on, baby, either way you’re getting fucked up this door so you might as well tell me.” He continues to tease his finger in and out of Regulus, just to the second knuckle. Driving him fucking insane, Regulus hates being teased. If this was his husband, he would know that. He knows everything about Regulus, can read him like his favourite well-thumbed copy of Tale of Two Cities. He loves his husband.
Two fingers press up against his bundle of nerves.
“Sir, please! Fuck, please! Just fuck me, please, I’m begging you-” He’s impatient now- since when was his cock this hard, dripping precum onto the marble floor?
The man tsks. “Look at you. What happened to that dear husband of yours? So quick to forget those vows you made, hm? To him? To James?”
On the name, he forces his fingers into Regulus so hard his cheek hits the door, but the pain is dull, an echo through the haze of lust.
“James, he’s- please, fuck, it’s okay, he won’t know- I promise Sir, I promise I won’t let him know. Just get inside me, for fucks’ sake!” Regulus whines, pathetic, any semblance of pride dissolved.
“Oh, I don’t know, you sure it’s a happy marriage? Seems like this James leaves you so cockhungry you give yourself up to other men with no problem.”
Regulus whines, too deep in to defend his husband.
“Or maybe it’s you.” The man continues, withdrawing his fingers now. Regulus hears the clutter of a belt buckle to the floor. “Yes, I think you’re just such a cockslut you need a good fucking every hour. Your busy husband tries, but it's difficult.” A hand gripping his hip, nails hard enough to bruise. “You’re just such.” The slap of the tip of his cock to Regulus’ hole- “a fucking.” Another. “Whore.”
Regulus is shoved even farther up the wall by the cock buried in him to the hilt in one go, the stretch and burn as delicious as he likes it.
“James, fuck! Fuck, harder!” he moans helplessly.
“James, yeah? That’s fuckin’ right, say your husband’s name while I fuck you against this door, open and sloppy. I’ll push his cum right up this pretty cunt of yours, maybe it’ll stick, hm? You and your James can thank me at the baby shower, tell everyone how I fucked his cum so deep you could taste it for a month.”
He increases his punishing pace, Regulus’ cock bouncing against his stomach.
“James, please, give it to me, fuck!”
“I’m giving it baby, I’m giving it. That’s right. Fuck, all that and you’re still so tight, so perfect for me.”
“Right there, James- Fuck! Keep- fuck- keeping going, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”
The pressure in his stomach peaks and snaps all too soon, Regulus’ cum painting the door in front of him, smearing across his hips as he keeps getting pounded into from behind.
“Fuck yes, cum for me love, that’s right- I’m gonna cum inside your pretty ass, alright? Fill you up like you deserve, baby.” A few more deep thrusts that Regulus barely feels, floating in that post-orgasmic haze he only ever reaches with his James. Who he loves, so, so much.
He feels more than hears the groan against his back as warmth floods his ass, all the way up his spine, he’s sure it’s in his brain, soiling his consciousness. The man is slumped against him, a dead weight, pressing chaste kisses that contrast with the rough fucking he just delivered.
Regulus tilts his head and their lips lock in a filthy kiss, and Regulus can feel the man’s smirk that he knows means this isn’t over yet. His cock kicks, a pleasant heat seeping into his core again.
“Well, I can’t let you go home like this, can I, Regulus?” He says against his lips.
Regulus quirks his lip, nothing but trouble. Echoing his words from earlier: “What do you suppose I do about it?”
At that, he’s shoved back up against the door with two hands spreading his cheeks- a sultry, porn-star moan rips through him as the flat of a tongue laves over his abused rim.
“Oh fuck, yes-” He shoves his hips back, searching for friction with his ass against the man’s face, his nose- and he can confirm that stubble across his thighs feels like divine revelation.
Obscene noises flood the bathroom as the man licks, sucks into Regulus’ puffy hole, tongue breaching him, grazing his insides, trying to scrape him raw.
Regulus reaches back and grabs the man’s head, shoving his ass even further onto his face, desperate to get him deeper. He feels like a chalice of ambrosia, worshipped with teasing teeth across his rim and a tongue fucking in and out of him, tasting, savouring each drop.
Before he knows it, Regulus is coming hard again, and this time is truly and well done, slumped and sated, overworked.
“Baby? You okay? How was that?” A gentle hand on his back, soothing, as it rises and falls with each deep breath.
“That was, holy fuck, James. I love you.” Regulus gets out, his cheek rubbing into the saliva smeared into the door he’s still slumped against.
James laughs fondly, planting a sweet kiss and easy “I love you too.” into the space behind his husband’s ear.
“Home, Jamie. Take me home, my love.”