You were late on rent. Again. Living with Regulus wasn't exactly hard. He was clean, put in his share, worked hard and whatnot, but none of that mattered when you couldn't even afford the apartment you lived in.

So, of course, your lovely best friend came up with a solution. His brother, Sirius, could be your third roommate. You had a third bedroom that connected to yours through the bathroom, and you needed the money.

It was simple.

Not.

Regulus had been your friend since forever. Like, forever forever. You were a Zabini, so naturally you had been put together as children, and being friends with him meant being subject to Sirius' existence. His teasing. His smile. His beauty. His inescapable laugh.

But you were kids then. Now you were at university. Sirius was 20. You were 18. Practically 19. Adults. Mature. You could handle his presence. Sharing an apartment. A bathroom. A kitchen.

He was constantly around now. Like a loyal dog. Or a parasite. Either or. Regulus had invited you to a frat party, so he wouldn't be alone in his obvious attempts to flirt with James fucking Potter. Long story.

You found yourself two drinks in and the victim of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Curse you, Barty. You were shoved into the closet with some tall, broad figure, steadying you when you almost tripped.

"Alright?" Sirius. It was Sirius. What a joy.