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honeybcj · 3 months ago

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bartylus microfic

back to re-uploading some of my microfics, so of course i had to start with one of my favs. forager barty, mixologist regulus, and lots of herbal aphrodisiacs <3

“What the fuck is this?”

Regulus stares down at the plant in front of him, blinking. His lips curl up in mild disgust, brow pinching together in confusion. To his side, Barty scoffs like the answer is obvious.

“It’s Tribulus,” answers Barty, hoisting himself up onto the counter. “Pretty nice, isn’t it?”

Regulus’ gaze shoots towards Barty, nothing but disdain in his eyes. Frankly, Barty looks far too smug right now, and Regulus is two seconds from ripping the plant to shreds and shoving it straight into Barty’s mouth to get him to shut the fuck up.

“Barty, listen,” Regulus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’ve loved your assistance on these trips, I have, but so help me—”

“Oh, come on! It’s something new! Something fun!” Barty exclaims with a toothy grin.

“I asked for fucking tarragon, you shithead,” Regulus hisses, shoving Barty’s shoulder.

It only makes the other man laugh, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Just another antic that makes Regulus roll his eyes so far to the back of his head that they roll out of skull.

“Well, sweetheart,” Barty says, drumming his fingertips along the countertop, “tarragon isn’t really going to lengthen,” Barty exaggerates with a suggestive eyebrow, “the night the same way as this bad boy right here.”

“Fuck your Trivulus!” Regulus shouts, two seconds from smashing his perfectly respectable bottle of botanist’s gin over Barty’s head.

“Tribulus, love,” Barty sighs dreamily.

“Does it look like I care?” Regulus gives Barty a pointed look.

“I mean—”

“Oh, God,” Regulus groans, burying his face in his hands.

Yes, Regulus is supposed to be experimenting with a new tarragon infused gin with floral melon. He’s got less than two weeks to perfect the cocktail menus for Pandora’s wedding. And yeah, maybe everybody and their brother would be happy with a case of beer and some cheap wine from the shop, but this is Regulus’ thing. He’s going to make it shine.

Pandora doesn’t deserve that. And Regulus sure as hell isn’t going to subject her to that either.

Upon returning to London, Regulus was in desperate need of an intelligent mind to provide him with the most respectable and appreciated of herbs and botanicals. He had been fortunate to work with the best of the best during his time in Paris, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro. So when Barty was suggested as the man for the job, of course Regulus immediately sought him out.

That may have been the worst decision he has ever made in his life.

The first couple months were manageable, Barty proving to be extremely knowledgeable and quick in obtaining exactly what Regulus needed. However, all that started to change when Barty started showing up with odd little bits and bobs, stupid grins on his face.

Sure, the first time it was just a little funny, Barty trying to run Regulus’ show or something like that. That was until it became a continuous problem—one that Regulus had to investigate on his own.

Much to his dismay (or so he says), all results pointed in the direction of each and every herb Barty was bringing him happened to be an fucking aphrodisiac.

“Reg?” Barty prods, gently wrapping a hand around Regulus’ wrist.

Regulus inhales sharply, dropping his hands from his face. Exasperated, Regulus asks, “Yes, Barty?”

“Look, I know it’s probably annoying—”

“No shit,” Regulus cuts in, gaze flickering down to where Barty’s hand is still wrapped around his wrist. He’s pretty sure if Barty doesn’t move his hand soon, he will feel Regulus’ pulse skyrocket. And that’s the last thing Regulus needs to be worrying about right now.

Barty licks his lips. “Like I said, it’s annoying, but—I just—you’rereallyfuckinggreatandIwouldliketotakeyouout.”

Regulus blinks, palms going clammy. “You what?”

“Oh!” Barty chuckles nervously, thumb pressing deliciously against Regulus’ pulse point. There’s no turning back now.

Regulus softens, surprisingly, shifting until he’s situated himself between Barty’s parted legs. “Tell me.”

“It was a mistake,” Barty offers, shaking his head, but Regulus can see the slight build up of tension in his shoulders, the desperation in his eyes.

It’s not something Regulus is unfamiliar with. He’s had his fair share of borderline scandalous love affairs and devoted admirers. It all sounds a bit unbecoming for Regulus to recognize this, but it’s just the truth. It’s how he’s lived his life up until this point.

What Regulus also realizes is that he hasn’t been this thrilled by such annoying antics in his life. Okay, maybe it has something to do with the person doing said antics, not the antics themselves, but that’s a whole other can of worms Regulus doesn’t know if he’s ready to open.

Or, maybe he is. He just has to bolster up the courage.

“Look,” Regulus sighs, carding a hand through his loose curls, “you’re not…sly. Or maybe I’m just reading into things here.”

Barty’s gaze is insistent, following each of Regulus’ movements. His hands grip at the edge of the counter, knuckles white and straining. It’s like he wants to touch, but he knows better than to do that.

Barty hums, finally meeting Regulus’ eye. “Probably not.”

“So…the aphrodisiacs?”

“Aphrodisiacs,” Barty confirms with a nod.

“And what was the intent?” Regulus questions with a raised brow.

“Date,” Barty says dumbly, blinking.

“Date as in—”

Barty lets out a strangled noise. “You’re really fucking great, and I would like to take you out. On a date.”

The corner of Regulus’ mouth turns up, all smug, and wraps a hand around the back of Barty’s neck. Christ Almighty, Regulus has no fucking idea what he is doing, but it feels disgustingly natural. Barty’s skin is warm, soft.

And the look on Barty’s face is of pure surprise, eyes wide and upper lip twitching.

Regulus lets another beat of silence pass, taking his time to stroke his thumb down the curve of Barty’s spine. He takes the time in relishing in the feel, watching for the slight changes in Barty’s facial expression. The usually vibrant man, full of wit and piss poor humor. Maybe a little pathetic—very pathetic actually, is stunned, blinking at Regulus like he’s waiting on the whole damn world to change.

And when Regulus does speak, it’s a whisper, soft and almost sweet, “Get me my tarragon, and you can take me on as many dates as you want.”

#bartylus #barty crouch jr #regulus black #barty x regulus #bartylus microfic #mack’s microfics

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