First times.

Funny things, aren't they?

Funny, how James savoured every sliver of skin Regulus showed.

Funny, how Regulus always thought James was pretending.

Funny, how James was so eager.

Funny, how Regulus felt like he was scalded at every touch.

Funny, how James kissed every scarred slit on Regulus wrist, on his thighs, on his waist, on his shoulders.

Funny, how Regulus sobbed, clinging to the other like he was the last thing keeping him afloat and breathing air.

Funny, how James still loved him through it, waiting for Regulus to fit down and give him verbal consent to continue, after every new thing.

Funny, how Regulus felt James crowding him in every way possible.

Funny, how James called Regulus his star, when it was Regulus seeing them beneath his eyelids with every movement James made.

Funny. Love was funny that way too.

Funny was the way James slept like a starfish, taking up the entire bed.

Funny was the way he pouted when Regulus giggled at him.

They'd kiss again, and Regulus wasn't sure he'd ever get the hang of it. The way James' tongue flicked across his bottom lip, the way James tilted his head, the way James' big hands cradled his hips, the way James' hands roamed up and up and up-

Regulus found himself gasping in between kisses, finding the air in his lungs disappearing at record pace. He clutched at the front of James’s pyjama shirt, hands trembling in need, feeling the heat of James’s body radiating through the flimsy fabric. He whimpered, the sensation of James’s touch overwhelming and intoxicating.

James stirred awake just as Regulus settled into the warmth against his side, slender limbs draped over him loosely. His hair was tousled carelessly in that just-been-thrashed-by-the-cushions look, messy and adorable.

"Mm." His deep, thickly accented mumble broke the spell of Regulus' gaze, as his mind seemed to gradually return him to alert consciousness. His voice was heavy with lingering dreams, as though reluctant to leave behind that surreal realm where imagination held court. It was almost comforting.

Regulus shifted a little, letting his gaze rove over James' groggy features, taking in the sleep-wrinkled sheets, the tousled curls, and the creases on the pillow from where his partner's head had been lying. He smirked lightly, his fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of James' back.

"Good morning, sunshine," he murmured, a note of dry amusement in his voice. "Sleep well?"