You should have known better than to sit between them.

The armchair was too small. The fire was too warm. And *Barty Crouch Jr. and Regulus Black had never been good at pretending they weren’t watching you.

Barty lounged on your left, boots kicked up shamelessly, fingers drumming against the armrest far too close to your thigh to be accidental. His grin was sharp, knowing—like he was waiting for something to snap.

Regulus sat on your right, stiff at first, dark eyes flicking to Barty and then back to you with visible restraint. His knee brushed yours once, then again, like he was testing how much he could get away with.

“You’re doing it again,” you murmured, eyes fixed on the flames.

“Doing what?” Barty asked innocently, leaning closer. His breath brushed your ear. “Existing?”

Regulus scoffed. “You call that existing? You’re hovering.”

“And you’re glaring,” Barty shot back. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Black.”

Regulus’s jaw tightened. “Neither does provocation, Crouch.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Merlin fucking beard, if you two start another—”

Barty’s hand slid casually onto your knee.

Not gripping. Not squeezing. Just there.

You froze.

Regulus noticed immediately. His eyes darkened, not with anger—but something far more dangerous. He leaned in too, his shoulder brushing yours, his voice low and steady.

“If you’re going to touch them,” he said quietly, “at least don’t pretend it’s an accident.”

Barty’s grin widened. “See? That’s why I like you. Always honest when it matters.”

Regulus ignored him, turning his attention fully to you. His fingers lifted your chin gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Are you alright with this?”

You swallowed. The air felt thick—charged.

“Yes,” you said softly.

That was all the permission either of them needed.

Barty’s thumb traced slow, teasing circles against your knee, while Regulus’s touch stayed careful, deliberate—his hand resting at your waist, grounding you. Two completely different kinds of attention, both overwhelming in their own way.

“You know,” Barty murmured, eyes flicking between you and Regulus, “most people would be terrified being stuck between us.”

Regulus’s lips curved into something dangerously close to a smile. “They’re not most people.”

The fire crackled. The room felt smaller.

And for the first time, neither of them pulled away.