"You found me!" James practically laughed, baffled that they were still even talking about this. And it had been the first fucking time, too. He couldn't even remember how it had started. Or exactly when Regulus had shown up. Or how long they'd talked. Or if they'd really talked much at all. All he really remembered was Regulus getting closer, his hesitant arms, and then that familiar heat and thrill coursing through his veins. It wasn't his fault. "You could have left me well enough alone," he pointed out. "But you didn't."
And from there, it was too easy to push Regulus back, to press him up against the counter, to splay his hands along Regulus's sides. Because he was more than just a little mored with the lines Regulus liked to pull. Most of the time, he put up with them quite well, but it was getting old. He was immediately speaking, voice lower, hoping Regulus would drop his volume as well. After all, there was no fucking need to yell. "And I'm sorry I left you on the beach." Even if he didn't quite sound it, pressing close enough that their chests were touching. "Alone. But don't act like you don't like the way I make you feel. You could've walked away; it's a miracle I stayed standing as long as I did. But you didn't. Because I was touching you-- because you like the way I touch you."
Without really even realising it, James's hands had taken to smoothing along the lines of Regulus's ribs. It was just that Regulus's body just seemed... made for James's hands to touch. His voice was its soft, warm velvet brushing against Regulus's ear when he added, "You do realise, don't you, that you're cross with me for not sleeping with you?"