James liked the way everything suddenly seemed too close, too tight, the way Regulus clung to him, the way his lip was close to throbbing. He pushed in harder, rougher, sliding Regulus back up onto the sink a bit. It looked sturdy enough to hold them. James hoped. Or it'd just mean that Regulus would have to hold on a little tighter. Not that there was any doubt in his mind that Regulus could-- Regulus had been a seeker for a reason. James's free hand curved around Regulus's arse to keep them practically joined at the hip.
"Touch me," he instructed, demanded, biting out the words before his mouth took Regulus's again. After all, between keeping Regulus pinned as he was, and keeping up the rhythm of his hand-- well, James only had so many hands. Plus, it brought a nice measure of equity, especially when in the past Regulus had more often not required something of a war of attrition.
And this? This was a whole different sort of intoxicating and James was doing everything in his power to keep himself from thinking too hard about that. He wouldn't even be able to think at all if Regulus would just put his hands to some useful purpose. To drive home the point that going along with whatever James said usually paid off, he sped up his strokes just a little.