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@jegulus-microfic | april 26: aimless | 1,276 words | trans! regulus
james does regulus' tape binding aftercare <3
James lingers in the doorway, quietly observing Regulus in their softly lit bathroom.
He's perched on the ledge of the bathtub, seemingly lost in thought, his head bowed and fingers idle and aimless where they trace the rim of it. He's shirtless, clad in only boxers and socks. His bare thighs press against the cool porcelain, causing goosebumps to rise there. Soft, late evening light leaks from the window, casting gentle shadows against his frame.
Outside, the rhythmic passing of cars punctuates the stillness, their headlights casting golden beams that dance across the wet asphalt. The nearby stoplight's red glow mingles with them, creating a surreal mix of colors on the shimmering pavement.
There's a soft rustle of movement as James enters the room behind Regulus, moving to the sink. He sifts through the contents of their vanity, hands passing over their shared face wash and the cup holding their toothbrushes to retrieve the items needed for Regulus' tape aftercare. Deft hands gather oil, washcloths, cotton swabs, and salve before placing them on the bathtub ledge. He approaches Regulus with a tenderness reserved only for moments like these, for him.
"Ready, love?" James' voice breaks the silence with a mellow murmur. He settles his weight behind him.
Regulus turns his head, giving a small nod against his own shoulder. "Yeah," he says, voice crackling from disuse.
James leans in to press a kiss between Regulus' shoulder blades. He lingers there for a moment. This close, he can see the faint dusting of freckles that mark his back. They're spattered across the skin like spray from a wave on sand. Speckles in shades of russet, sepia, and chocolate dance across his pale skin, shifting as Regulus shivers lightly. As James' lips leave his back, the muscles beneath those pretty dots tremble.
James reaches for the oil, uncaps it, and warms it between his hands. He presses both his palms to Regulus, carefully smoothing the oil over the edges of the tape. His touch follows the span of the tape from Regulus' back, under his arms, to the front of his chest. His movements are slow and practiced, designed as much to reassure as to treat. The oil glistens slightly on Regulus' skin, catching the dim light as it begins to soften the adhesive.
As they wait for the tape to loosen, a comfortable silence settles over them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city and their own quiet breathing. James doesn't stop his ministrations; his fingers continue to trace gentle paths along Regulus' shoulders, the back of his neck, following the delicate contours of his shoulder blades. These moments are so special to him; he wants Regulus to feel loved through his actions, to experience the same palpable surge of affection with each pass of his hands that James feels. There is so much trust that Reg offers him in these moments—it's intimate. James is the only person Regulus allows to see the most vulnerable parts of himself, and that knowledge alone makes James' heart swell with fondness and love. He has never loved someone as he does Regulus.
Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
Sometimes, James thinks Regulus was crafted specifically for him; as if the cosmos themselves conspired to mold him to perfectly complement the contours of James' own body, his own soul. Looking back, it's almost silly to him now—he thought he knew what love was like before him. His heart was already overflowing with it for Sirius, his mum, his dad, his friends. He's always had big emotions, brimming with affection and fierce protectiveness for the people around him. He's always cared deeply and felt profoundly, but nothing could have prepared him for the depth of feeling that Regulus brought into his life.
James knows nothing, nobody else could ever make him feel like this.
He settles his hands on the edges of the tape on Regulus' left side. "Gonna take it off now, okay?"
"Yeah, okay James. Go ahead"
James pulls at the tape gently, easing it from the skin. He's careful not to pull too hard or move too fast, patient as he works. He grabs Regulus' bicep, thumb pressing into the underside, fingers curling over. "Lift your arm up, Reg," he instructs softly.
Regulus raises his arm, holding it aloft as James' hand moves back down to steady the skin being separated from the tape. He can't resist pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his bicep before continuing to peel off the tape there. When he encounters a tough spot, where the tape still clings to his skin, James reaches for more oil. He warms it between his fingers once again before lightly holding the piece back, rubbing it into the seam between Regulus' skin and the tape until it loosens enough for him to continue. He carefully removes the first piece, then works at a second, a third, before repeating the process on Regulus' right side.
There's still a faint trace of leftover adhesive where the edges of the tape once were. So, James takes a cotton swab, dips it in oil, and meticulously traces the outlines left by the pieces. He moves slowly, with deliberate delicacy, mindful of the soreness of his skin.
Once he's satisfied, James fetches the washcloth. He soaks it in warm, soapy water and carefully cleans the area, wiping away excess oil and any lingering traces of the day. Then he reaches for the salve—the last physical part of their routine, though James knows the comfort it brings goes beyond just the skin. Two of his fingers dip into the container, scooping up the soothing balm. James is so careful with him, his fingers so gentle as they spread the salve, taking extra care with the tender skin under his arms and over his ribs. He traces the rungs of them, then the dip of his chest, making sure no skin is left uncared for.
James then grabs what's technically his own shirt—a worn, soft thing that Regulus has claimed as his own, his favorite pajama top—from the ledge of the sink. He helps Regulus slip it over his head, taking advantage of every second he allows him to be so close, to take care of him.
"Feeling okay?" James asks once Regulus is settled.
He trails his hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping it underneath to rest gently on his stomach, careful not to brush the newly cared-for skin or his chest.
Regulus hums an affirmative, "mhmm." Eyes closing and head tipping back as he nods.
"I'm not just asking about your skin, love," James whispers. It's tough for Regulus sometimes, taking the tape off, sitting with his chest. It's a necessity though, for his well-being, despite the discomfort it brings. And James always does everything within his power to make it easier for him. He knows he can't fix everything, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to.
Regulus reaches back, his palm sliding from James' elbow to his hand beneath his shirt, their fingers intertwining at his stomach. Their faces are so close that Regulus' cheek drags against James' as he turns his head, planting a soft kiss on James' cheek. "I do, I feel okay. I promise," he murmurs, giving James a warm smile.
Leaning back into James' frame, Regulus lets his weight settle comfortably against him. "You make it easier," he breathes out, words floating into the space between them. Another kiss, "Thank you. I love you."
James holds him a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, heart swelling just a little bit more. "I love you too."
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Ya'll say you want wierd people till I show my bone collection and my morbid interests
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You pull out of me and your dick is tied in a knot like a cherry stem
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How many asks do u have
i feel like you should at least take me to dinner before asking me about the number thats been inside my box... it's just common manners
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How are u
ahhh i'm okay! i took my dress and suit to the tailors today for graduation (i have two ceremonies) so things are starting to feel really real lol. i'm ab to clean my apartment and then hopefully answer some more asks after :). hope your day has been going well <333
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hiii! firstly, i just wanna say that i admire your writing and the way you use imagery to cast certain moods for different stories. i think in your past life you were some great poet, like homer lol! i am a baby to tumblr, but ive been wondering about posting my own takes on certain topics. i wanted to ask how you started writing and posting regul(us)arly, without getting embarrassed or discouraged!
(ps-thank u for being u🩵)
this is !!! so incredibly kind of you wow 🥺🥺 i’m floored. to even be mentioned in the same breath as a poet, let alone homer, is an honor. though if we're measuring by a 'homer scale,' i'd place my writing abilities closer to homer simpson than the poet.
if i am being completely honest, i really started posting because i was searching for a queer community. i grew up in a major city and still have a great one there, but i moved to a smaller city to go to a really STEM oriented, cutthroat school—where all connections are really just for career advancement. i basically looked back and realized that i had spent the last four years with my head shoved so far up a book that i was really suffering without that community. i also knew i was gonna have to start writing my personal statement for med school soon. writing is my weakest skill, and the only writing i'd been doing was scientific IRMaD papers for school, so i wanted to force myself to practice. what better way than through something i already loved and engaged with consistently: fanfiction.
when I first started posting my writing, it was definitely intimidating. i had moments when i overthought, got embarrassed, and quickly deleted posts. but i learned that it is just part of the process of finding your space in fandom. you’re inevitably going to stumble a bit, you’re gonna hit some zero note posts, and yeah, it can be discouraging. i think its really naive when people say “oh, just post for yourself, who cares if you get no interactions with it.” because honestly, if we were ONLY writing for ourselves, we'd just keep everything in our google docs, right? a big part of the joy in fanfiction is connecting with the community.
but you also cant let that hold you back. what always keeps me going is the enjoyment i get from crafting stories—writing things that i wanted to read or the characters i wanted to see (i love horror and medicine. i literally threw them together to make my evan. and i would be nothing without my unsettling, ethically questionable, freak medical malpractitioner). so it is so, so important to stay true to your own vision. if you see barty with neon purple hair, write him that way. if your remus is a pretty pretty princess, embrace it. they’re your stories. and if anyone tells you otherwise, they can fuck themselves.
so i would say keep posting and interacting with other people, your favorite authors, friends, followers. as you continue, your confidence will grow, and your audience will find you. be patient with yourself and push through the doubts. it's all about finding your voice and enjoying the process!
please feel free to tag/send me when you do start sharing your writing! i would be happy to read it :)) and i also wanted to thank YOU for being you because you are so very kind and you put a huge smile on my face ❤️❤️❤️
#obv fic to personal statement writing is not directly transferable but being able to convey emotion and craft an effective narrative is#mail
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