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.

You would be in class or studying or working most of the time, anyways. You'd probably barely even interact. And that was true for the first week or so. You watched shows together, occasionally, when you had it on in the background while you worked, and he'd sit on the couch next to you, his thigh brushing yours, his arm behind you.

You'd ignore him, and he wouldn't talk too much. You had an unspoken schedule of when to shower, how long to take, which soaps belonged to who. You had a system. And Regulus was there. He expected he would have to be a mediator, but you and Sirius didn't even talk.

Again, for just about a week.

Then, he got comfortable.

Flirtatious comments. Subtle brushes of his hand against yours. Helping when you washed the dishes, even though Regulus insisted he was the most disorganized person he'd ever met. This all led to now.

Regulus was out studying with his Psych friends for a project, considering you had different majors, your schedule often forbade you two from hanging out, and it was getting late. He texted you, assuring you he was staying the night at a friend's house, so you didn't need to worry.

You ended up in the kitchen with ice cream, brooding over another project, when Sirius came out with a towel slung low on his hips, hair dripping and tucking into a low messy bun, and a small smirk that never seemed to go away.

"Something troubling you?"