Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/982606.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Moran/Severin_Moran
  Character:
      Severin_Moran, Sebastian_Moran, Sebastian_Moran's_Father
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Twincest, Underage_Sex, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Hand_Jobs,
      Frottage, Violence
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-27 Words: 7527
****** And In Their Triumph, Die ******
by 221brosiewilde
Summary
     They are six, and their parents are fighting. They are eight, and
     they are kings of the playground. They are thirteen and touching.
     Suddenly, they are older and there is a chasm. A look at the Moran
     twins growing up.
Notes
     This was a fic written for the Mortastic Fic Exchange for the prompt:
     Sebastian and Severin are teens or older given to me by the lovely
     MarbleAide.
They are six, and their parents are fighting. It happens often. It’ll start
with something seemingly innocuous; their mother’s laugh, a book dropping to
the floor, a sudden intake of breath. Then the hushed words come, usually from
their father first, followed by their mother, then the shouting. Doors
slamming.
It’s on one such night that Severin finds himself awake, listening to them
curse at each other and argue. He wishes he’d grow used to it, or at least be
able to tune it out, but he always keeps his eyes open. He listens to the slap,
the sound of flesh hitting flesh violently, until everything goes silent. He
can rest.
"Rin?" Sebastian’s hushed voice comes from the other side of the room. Severin
looks over to see his twin’s eyes peeking out from under his blanket. "You
awake?"
Severin nods, and Sebastian pads over to his bed on expert, silent feet. If
either of them make too much noise it'll turn their father's attention on them,
and then no one in the house will get any sleep. Sebastian folds back the
blankets and cuddles in next to his Severin. He wraps an arm around Severin’s
waist and turns to him; their little faces pressing together like mirror
images. Blue eyes meet blue eyes. Honey brown hair nuzzles into honey brown
hair. Scabbed and bruised knees from too much roughhousing touch under the
comforter as they curl up together, taking comfort from the storm.
"You scared, Bas?" Severin asks after a particularly loud yell from their
father. Sebastian shakes his head, nudging Severin’s nose with his own.
"No," he whispers. "You?" Severin shakes his head. In the hall, something
scatters to the floor, and Sebastian buries his head in Severin's neck.
"Why do they have to be so loud?" he asks. Sebastian doesn't have an answer,
but whining feels good - a small comfort.
"Don’t winge," Sebastian says, using the same tone their mother always does. He
wiggles back and looks at Severin's face. He smiles in reassurance, and pokes
his cheek. "It’ll be over soon. They never fight for long."
There’s a scream from their mother, a loud crack, then everything goes silent.
Severin goes tense, then, slowly, shudders into quiet tears. Sebastian holds
him tight against his chest, simultaneously trying to comfort him and silence
him so their father doesn’t hear.
"It’s okay, Rin," he murmurs, drawing soothing circles up and down his back. He
plants small, comforting kisses on his face, on the smattering of freckles they
both share. "I’ve got you."
-
They are eight, and they are a unit.
No one can hurt them on the playground. Sebastian is fierce and competitive,
even at so young an age. He’s fast, and protective, and nearly breaks the arm
of the first child who pushes Severin down.
Severin is smart. He knows all the right buttons to press on the teachers, and
somehow manages to get his brother out of trouble. He’s charming with his big
blue eyes, and easy smile. He manages to mask the intensity on his little face
in a way that Sebastian can’t. People tend to warm to him faster.
They are the Moran twins. By second grade, they are alone on the playground.
-
The first time they touch each other, they are thirteen, and don’t have a clue
what they’re doing.
It starts the same way it always does. Their parents are fighting. Their mother
has cancer, their father drinks himself into a rage almost every night, and
neither one of them has any friends except each other.
And Sebastian is making soft noises in his bed across the room. As if Severin
wasn’t sleeping already, he sits up, trying to make out his brother’s shape in
the dark. There isn’t enough light for him to see what he’s doing, but the
noises end up sounding more and more frustrated, and he can’t help but think
something’s wrong. Severin sighs quietly and walks over to Sebastian's bed,
laying against him like they have a thousand times before.
"Bas?" he whispers, noticing the way Sebastian tenses when he touches him. His
hand stops moving. "You okay?"
Sebastian turns to look at him, and Severin can see how flushed his cheeks are
even in the darkness, the way his breathing hitches. “I’m fine,” he says, his
voice more breathless than usual. “Go away. I’m just…”
Severin follows Sebastian’s eyes to where his hand is, and exhales softly.
“Oh,” he breathes, blinking. “Are you…?”
"I just woke up like this!" Sebastian tells him in a hissed whisper. "I don’t
know what happened. So I tried… I was just touching… and it felt good, and…" He
makes a pathetic noise, and buries his face in his pillow. His voice is muffled
when he speaks. "It won’t go away."
Severin pets Sebastian's side soothingly, the same way they always have
whenever the other is distressed, and presses a kiss to his cheek. He hates
seeing him like this - all flushed and nervous. It isn't normal for him.
Sebastian is usually the first one eager to do something new, the first one
skinning his elbows and falling, but up the next minute ready to try again.
Uncertainty isn't a good look for him. But he’d always been there for Severin,
so this time Severin would be there for him. “Well,” he says after a minute.
“Do you want me to help?”
Sebastian tenses, and though Severin can’t see his face with his back turned
towards him, he can tell that he’s deliberating. “I dunno if this is the kind
of thing brothers help each other with,” he says after a moment. Severin sighs
impatiently against the back of his neck. He slides his hand along Sebastian’s
thigh, and under the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
"We’re twins," he murmurs, holding Sebastian’s wrist back when he tries to stop
his hand. "It’s different."
"Rin, I don’t-" Sebastian’s breath hitches into a gasp when Severin wraps his
fingers around him, then slowly leans back against Severin's chest. He closes
his eyes. "Oh."
Severin grins at the effect he has. He brushes his thumb over the head, feeling
out the different texture. Sebastian's cock is harder than his own usually is,
and warmer. Bigger too. He rubs his finger over the slight bead of moisture at
the tip, then trails his fingers down to slide his thumb under the ridge.
Sebastian groans and Severin takes that as encouragement. He travels all the
way down to the root, and then back up again in one smooth stroke.
"Good?" he asks after a few minutes of letting his hand travel up and down
slowly, trying to map out all the places that make Sebastian make the most
noise, hushing him when he’s a little too loud.
"Yeah." Sebastian nods, biting his lip hard. He pushes back against Severin’s
hips, then forward into his hand. The movement stirs something in Severin, a
low heat pooling in his abdomen. His hips twitch to move against his brother’s
backside, grinding against him slowly. Sebastian whimpers, but doesn't stop
him. "I need…faster. Please, Rin."
Severin nods and picks up the pace. He can't help but moan along with his
brother when he presses his hips up in a particularly hard thrust, feeling like
he’s going to blackout from the friction. He’s never felt anything like this
before, and now that he’s started he doesn’t want to stop.
"Again," Sebastian demands, his voice a low growl. Severin bites the back of
his neck to keep from crying out. He’s not sure why, but the sound of his
brother asking for him, needing him to move against him, does something to him.
Of course he has to oblige. He moves his hips against Sebastian hard, keeping
up the movement of his hand, stroking his palm over his cock. Soon, Sebastian
is practically mewling against him, gasping his name over and over. Something
is building between them, something heated and vast, and before Severin wants
it to end, Sebastian’s gasps in surprise, and Severin's hand is being covered
in something hot and slick. Severin stills his hips, but Sebastian pushes back.
He rolls his arse against the bulge in Severin’s pajamas, and suddenly he’s
coming, sparks firing behind his eyes, making him cry out in surprise and
relief.
They breathe hard against each other for a while, then Severin moves and wipes
his hand on the sheet. He rolls onto his back. He glances at Sebastian,
surprised when he meets his eyes. They both smile - laughing at what they’d
just done, laughing from the sheer absurdity of it all - and Severin curls up
next to his brother, resting his head on his shoulder.
"We should change our pants," Sebastian murmurs, though he makes no move to get
up and do so. Severin shakes his head.
"Later."
Sebastian nods. His breathing slows and he looks away, staring at the ceiling
in concentration.
The next night, Severin crawls into Sebastian’s bed only to be pushed out. It
leaves him bruised, mentally and physically. From then on, their parents fight
at night, and they don’t look at each other.
It’s the crack that starts a chasm.
-
Sebastian Moran is fourteen the first time he tastes blood in his mouth.
He’d had the nerve to snap at his father, at Augustus, after getting screamed
at for his less than desirable grades. He had a C. He’d gotten one C in
algebra, and apparently that warranted a reaming out worse than the time he’d
been caught drinking with Severin. But then again…punishments were usually
easier if Severin was involved. It was hard to get mad at someone with a
crooked smile, and such a charming way about them, and it seemed that Severin’s
charm grew exponentially the drunker he was. Bastard.
They’d ended up being grounded for a week; a punishment that could have been
much worse if Sebastian hadn’t been cut off by his brother, smoothing the story
along as if it'd been his idea from the start.
And Augustus could never stay mad at Severin for long.
So drinking was fine; not understanding algebra was not, apparently.
"Unacceptable," Augustus says, shaking his head as he looks at the report card
again, tossing it onto his desk with disgust. "Absolutely unacceptable,
Sebastian. Oxford probably won’t even look at you now. Do you realize that? Do
you realize how you’ve failed?"
Sebastian stares at the report card, the red C glaring at him from under his
father’s desk lamp. He’s standing at attention in his father’s office, and he
feels small. He always does when he’s talked at like this. Augustus isn’t even
yelling. He’s in the stage of finding out about something Sebastian’s done
where his voice is low and dangerous. The yelling will come later but already
Sebastian wants to sink into the floor, hoping that maybe this time the thick
Persian rug will pull through and swallow him up.
It doesn’t.
"Yes, sir."
"Yes sir, what?” comes the sharp reply, and Sebastian snaps to attention,
looking at his father’s face.
"I do realize how I’ve failed."
If he tries hard enough he can pretend that he can go to his mother’s room
after this is over. He can lean on her for support, and tell her everything. He
can rail about how unfair it all is to her and she’ll listen and wrap him
tightly in her arms and her arms won’t feel weak with chemo and she’ll get her
cards out and they’ll play poker and maybe this time he’ll actually win against
her and… and…and
He blinks hard.
Mother’s dead.
Instead, he’s left with Augustus nodding at him, looking angry and disappointed
and unwilling to listen.
"Good," he says after a moment. A beat, then, "Are you going to explain
yourself?"
Sebastian opens his mouth to reply, but he doesn’t know what to say to make
Augustus listen. He takes a deep breath, deciding it might as well be worth a
try. “I do try,” he starts, hazarding a quick look at his father before letting
the words spill out. “You see me. You have to. I’m always working. I’m at the
top of my class. I knew I wasn’t doing well in algebra, and…I even got a tutor!
I’m lucky I passed to be honest. You should be happy for me!”
"I won’t be happy about failure, Sebas-"
"But I didn’t fail!" He says, sharper than he’d meant to. "I worked so I
wouldn’t fail and now when I’ve done well you’re giving me shit about it!
Severin never-“
"Leave your brother out of this."
"-always slacking off, and you don’t say a thing-"
"Sebastian, I said stop."
"-can’t help that he’s just naturally better, but when I actually study, and do
the work-"
"Shut your-"
"I don’t hear a hear thing from you!" Sebastian yells. A part of his brain is
telling him that he should stop now that his father’s getting out of his chair,
and stalking towards him, but he can’t seem to turn his mouth off now that he’s
started. "He’s failed more classes than I ever will, and you let him go because
he reminds you of mum. You feel guilty because she’s dead and you didn’t give a
shit about her when she was alive!"
The slap that comes isn’t a surprise, and it effectively brings Sebastian back
to the present. He’s almost grateful for it.
The next hit takes him off guard, though. Augustus’ ring catches his lip, and
breaks the skin. Sebastian barely has time to lick the blood away, and recover
before the next hit comes. Then the next. And the next.
He falls, and his skull hits the floor with a bounce, making his vision white
out for a moment, and his ears ring. It hurts, and he struggles to get up. But
the kick to his abdomen keeps him down. He curls into himself, figuring that he
can just wait until it stops. There’s no point in fighting it anyway. It would
just make everything hurt more.
When the next kick comes, he feels something crack, and he can’t help but cry
out, half in fear and half in pain. Everything freezes then. The earth seems to
tilt on its axis as he retreats inside of himself, staring at the space under
his father’s desk. All that’s left is the sound of Augustus’ harsh breathing,
and the sense that something, something once whole and tender and beautiful
inside of Sebastian is tearing at the seams, splitting down the middle like the
temple veil being torn in two. His heartbeat slows, and his eyes focus on the
dust bunny the maid must have missed when she’d come in earlier.
It’s the most peaceful he’s felt in months.
"Don’t speak of your mother ever again," Augustus says finally, once his
breathing has calmed down. "Go clean yourself up."
Sebastian doesn’t bother nodding. He stands up on steady feet, back straight
despite the way his ribs scream in protest, and turns on his heel, shutting the
door behind him with a soft click.
The bathroom sink is stained red when he rinses his mouth out, and he finds
that he misses the tangy taste of iron in his mouth, and the peace that comes
with it.
-
Severin Moran is fifteen the first time he makes something explode.
For once, he’s not trying to cause chaos. Well…maybe a little. He’d seen on tv
how putting vinegar and baking soda into a bottle would make it react, but he
hadn’t actually believed it. Most things on tv were rubbish anyway, and he
doubted that this was any different.
Although in hindsight he maybe shouldn’t have dropped the entire box of baking
soda into the bottle.
But the resulting explosion had just been too good to resist.
The bottle had jettisoned out of the sink, spraying nearly everything in the
kitchen with a geyser of vinegar, including Severin, but he couldn’t bring
himself to care. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and the fact
that he’d made it happen, that he’d been able to cause so much destruction just
by putting a few simple ingredients together was amazing. He could do this
forever. There was money in making explosions. Bigger ones. And maybe his
father would get off his back if he started to get serious about something he
liked.
If anything, it was a means to an end.
It was something to control in a world where it seemed nothing could be
controlled; not their mother’s death, or the secrets Sebastian was keeping from
him, or his father’s raging temper. Explosions could be fast, and deadly, and
usually had a lot of casualties who ended up being blown to bits. But pieces of
a person were preferable to the whole. Whole people were…complicated.
The lock on the kitchen door turns, and he runs, slipping in vinegar on the
way. He falls hard, but gets back up quickly, running out of the kitchen, and
up the huge staircase to his room, slamming the door behind him and sagging
against it in relief. Home safe.
"What did you do?"
Severin jumps at the voice, meeting his brother’s narrowed eyes with wide,
surprised ones. He sighs, and starts getting undressed. Hide the evidence.
"Nothing. Why, do I look like I did something?"
"You smell-"
"Like cigarettes. Damn. You caught me. I was smoking."
"You smelldisgusting and I’m pretty sure I just heard the cleaning lady scream,
so I doubt it was cigarettes,” Sebastian says, not turning his eyes away from
his book. Severin frowns at his twin, not saying anything. He looks at the cast
on his brother’s wrist, and raises an eyebrow.
"That wasn’t there yesterday."
Sebastian’s eyes stop moving on the page, and he presses his lips tight
together. “Rugby accident.”
"You don’t have to lie to me, Seb," Severin snorts, pulling a clean shirt on
and tossing the old one in the hamper. "I’m your brother for chrissakes."
"My little brother."
"By seven minutes."
"It makes a difference."
"No it doesn’t."
"It makes one to him."
"It doesn’t make one to me."
"Well he seems to think it should. I have to set an example, you know."
"No tutor today?"
Sebastian’s mouth opens in surprise at the sudden change of subject and then
closes, his jaw cracking with tension, eyes downcast. “No.”
"Hm," Severin hums, flopping down on his bed and turning to look at his twin,
studying him while he pretends to read. It was truly amazing how closely they
resembled each other. They both had the same light brown hair, the same icy
blue eyes, the same nose, though Sebastian’s had already been broken a few
times, and the same mouth, though Severin’s tended to look more playful than
his brother’s. The differences were there in how they carried themselves, and
in how they spoke. Most people just didn’t look hard enough.
"I liked him," Severin declares when he sees some of the tension leave
Sebastian’s jaw. "Your tutor, I mean. Matt." It’s back again in a second
though, and Severin treads carefully. He’d learned long ago that the secret to
getting his brother to open up was nonchalance. He was hesitant in saying that
it was one of those freaky twin things, being able to read someone so closely,
but really it was simple. Sebastian wore every emotion on his face, and it was
usually what got him in trouble.
Severin waits for a moment, and then gets up to get his backpack, figuring he
might as well start on homework, or at least give the pretense of doing it. He
doesn’t expect Sebastian to answer, and is already halfway through reading one
of the chapters assigned for the next day when Sebastian speaks.
"Me too."
Severin looks up, and sees Sebastian looking at his book, still on the same
page he’d been on twenty minutes ago. “What-“
"I liked him too," Sebastian clarifies, not turning to meet his brother’s eyes.
Severin nods, figuring that it wouldn’t take a genius to piece together what
had happened. They’d gotten caught, and not by anyone, but by Augustus no less.
Severin nods, keeping in mind how secretive his brother had been lately,  how
he’d come home hours after rugby practice was supposed to end, looking flushed,
and for the first time in a long time, happy. He remembers the days when Matt
would come over and Sebastian would race down the stairs, and smile wide when
he’d open the front door, then race back up the stairs with Matt in tow. He
remembers the laughter that he’d hear coming from their room, though he’d only
gone inside once, and then he’d felt like he was intruding. They’d been so
casual with each other, touching and talking like they’d known each other for
years, books spread across the bed haphazardly.
Severin couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. Sebastian was never like that
around him, no matter how many times Severin invited him out, or to just go and
cause trouble. The air around them was always tense with things neither of them
talked about, and now they had one more thing stretching the gap between them.
But apparently Sebastian wouldn’t be seeing Matt anymore.
He itches to ask what had happened, if they’d done anything, what exactly
Augustus had caught them doing, but he knows that Sebastian would either leave
or ignore him, so he lets it be. He goes back to reading his chapter, feeling
the space between them widen another few miles.
-
Sebastian is seventeen, and he wants to hit everything.
Nothing is safe. His temper flares like a spark, bright, and hot in the
beginning, and then suddenly gone. Half the time he’s not even sure where it
comes from, but he knows that hitting things, watching someone else get hurt,
always helps.
And getting hit back brings the kind of clarification of mind that most people
get from meditation.
Rugby, he finds, is the best outlet. His coach bumps him up to captain after
seeing how brutal he is, and everyone wonders at how fearlessly he pushes into
the scrum, tackling people even when it’s likely that he’s going to get
severely hurt doing it. The team looks up to him, and he finds that he likes
leading them, likes making sure everyone’s in a position that fits their
abilities well. He likes that the coach actually treats him as if he knows what
he’s talking about because he does. The field is the best place for him, and he
doesn’t feel quite right unless he’s running and shouting orders behind him,
directing the play to the best of his ability. It’s refreshing to find
something he’s actually good at.
"Moran, isn’t that your brother?"
Sebastian catches the ball and tosses it back to Danvers before turning to look
behind him. Severin’s standing at the edge of the field, smoking and looking
incredibly out of place in his ripped jeans and an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt,
his stance nervous. It’s a stark contrast to how his brother normally looks.
Usually, he’s put together, at ease with wherever he happens to be, but not
now. Sebastian frowns, and turns back to Danvers just in time to catch the ball
that was being thrown back at him.
"Yeah, it is."
"He looks like he wants to talk to you, mate."
"Nah," Sebastian shrugs, tossing the ball back, purposely throwing it harder
than is necessary just to watch Danvers shake out the sting in his hands when
he catches it. "He can wait."
Danvers raises an eyebrow at him, and nods in Severin’s direction. “I don’t
think he’s gonna.”
Sebastian sighs, and turns around again, watching as Severin lopes towards him.
He throws the ball back to Danvers, and jogs over to meet his brother, anxiety
curling unpleasantly in his stomach.
"Hey," he says, meeting Severin in the middle of the field. It was almost dusk.
The sun was just barely setting, starting to leave a bite to the air like it
always did in autumn, and he shivers a bit, wishing he could get back to
running drills and doing something instead of standing in front of his brother
while he waited for him to speak. "What’s up?"
"Dad said you need to come home," Severin says in a rush, and Sebastian raises
his eyebrows at how straight forward his brother is being. Usually trying to
get something serious out of him is a fight in and of itself, and that he’s
being so forthcoming is making Sebastian uneasy.
"Okay," he blinks, trying to remember if he’d done anything that his father
would disapprove of. His grades had been pretty good lately, he was going to
make MVP for this season, and he’d already talked to the Oxford representative
about their law program. Everything was fine. "Why?"
Severin shrugs, looking at the ground, and Sebastian knows that he knows
exactly why. “Rin, don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?”
"It’s…I really don’t know," he says, and holds a hand up when Sebastian opens
his mouth to protest. "It could be something or it could be nothing. I came
home, and he was holding enlistment papers. He said he found them in your
room…"
Shit. Sebastian can feel all the blood drain from his face, and he puts a hand
on Severin’s shoulder, squeezing maybe a little harder than he should, but, to
his credit, Severin doesn’t flinch. They’ve always been very tactile with each
other, and they’d always acted as each others touchstones under stress. It was
a comfort to be near each other even though they played in different social
circles now.
"Rin, those aren’t anything," he says quickly. "Seriously. You know that they
just give them out to everyone. I don’t even want to enlist or anything.
That’s…that’s ridiculous."
“I know it’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t,” Severin replies, biting his lip as he
looks at his brother. “And that’s not everything.”
"What else is there?"
"He’s been drinking."
"Fuck." Sebastian runs a hand through his hair nervously, looking back at his
team mates waiting for him to come back. Then, "I don’t know what to do."
"You know that if you don’t come home now it’s just going to be worse," Severin
supplies unhelpfully, frowning like he knows it. "I’m sorry Bas."
Sebastian smiles ruefully at the use of his kid nickname, the one that only
Severin had called him when they were younger. “Thanks,” he says, not sure what
else could be said now anyway. “I’ll just…tell them there’s a family emergency
or something.”
"Do you want me to give you a ride?" Severin holds up his keys, and jingles
them a little, but Sebastian shakes his head.
"No. I’ll just walk. It’ll buy me some time anyway."
But time doesn’t help.
He barely takes a step into his father’s study before the smell of smoke and
alcohol hits him, making him itch for the field again, hating that he just has
to stand here at attention like the soldier his father was forbidding him to
be, like the soldier he never wanted to be in the first place. Sebastian shuts
the door behind him, and his father shifts in his seat.
"Sebastian," he says, his name slurred. "Come where I can see you."
He hates this. He absolutely hates being treated like a dog instead of like
someone’s son. It’s all he’s ever been, ever since his mother had died, and now
that the drinking had started up again, it was only going to be worse.
Sebastian walks over to stand in front of his father, regarding him coolly,
despite the nerves bubbling in his stomach. He waits a moment, watches his
father watching him, before opening his mouth. “I know-“
"I didn’t say you could speak!" Augustus yells, and Sebastian closes his mouth,
clenching his jaw as he prepares for what’s to come. Augustus looks at him, his
face red from the drink, and his fingers and teeth stained yellow from the
cigarettes he’d been undoubtedly chain smoking since earlier that afternoon. He
reaches over to the small table next to his chair, and holds up the army
brochures, waving them slightly in trembling hands. "You’ve been hiding
something from me?"
"No," Sebastian answers when he assumes it’s safe for him to speak. "They give
them out at school. Severin-"
Augustus is out of his chair and in his face so fast that Sebastian doesn’t
remember seeing him get up. He looks up at his father, jaw set tight in
defiance, tensing for the blow that he knows is coming. It’s only a matter of
time at this point anyway. “What did I tell you about bringing your brother
into arguments?”
"I’m just trying to explain."
"You’re trying to worm your way out of trouble-"
"If you’d let me talk for once-“
"You want to leave this family and abandon everything I’ve worked for so you
can find other men like you. Ever since I caught you and that boy together-"
Suddenly everything in Sebastian’s mind narrows down to the memory of his wrist
cracking under the force of his father’s shoe, to seeing Matt’s face in the
hallways at school now and the feeling of guilt and hatred and anger that comes
along with it. Time slows, he takes a deep breath, and before he can realize
what he’s doing, his father’s stumbling back, one hand cupped to the side of
his face, looking at Sebastian in shock.
Everything speeds up again. There’s a pain in his knuckles that tells him he
actually did hit his own father, that he wasn’t dreaming it for once. He’d
actually done it this time.
And it feels so good.
"You ungrateful-" Augustus recovers quickly, and storms towards him, but
Sebastian has sobriety and adolescent agility on his side. He dodges the hit
that comes his way, and aims a kick at his father’s groin, making him double
over. He shoves him back, following him when he stumbles, and hits him again,
watching with sick satisfaction as his head hits the wall, and the blood starts
running from his nose. Sebastian keeps hitting him, watching as Augustus’s face
goes red all over, and this time with his own blood. His knuckles are bloody,
and ripped to shreds by the time he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him
away, but he shrugs it off, too intent on making his father hurt the same way
he’s made him hurt for all these years. The hand is on his shoulder again, more
insistent now, the grip tighter, and Sebastian turns around, snarling at
whoever decided to interrupt him.
"Sebastian," Severin says softly, his face hard, strained, even though his
voice is calm. "Stop. Come away now."
Sebastian tries to jerk away from him, still too incensed to stop. He could
kill their father. He could kill him right now if he wanted to. They could make
it look like an accident. Severin was smart at covering things up. He could
make the whole house explode if he wanted to. He’d seen him do it with his
chemistry sets. And they could get their inheritance without dealing with
Augustus anymore. They could do it. The two of them. They could live together
without the constant fear hanging over them.
He tries to move out of Severin’s grip, but his brother holds on tight, pulling
him away from their father and closer to him. “Sebastian, that’s enough,” he
says, and he sounds so much like their mother in that moment that it makes
Sebastian yield finally, letting his brother pull him close and wrap his arms
around him. He’s aware that he’s sobbing. He must be because his shoulders are
shaking and his face is wet, but he doesn’t feel it. He just feels the peace
that comes with the adrenaline rush, and the exhaustion that comes with
exercising your demons.
-
Severin Moran is eighteen and he wants to fuck everyone.
Of course, he thinks, while slipping out of Katie Burgess’s bed after she’s
fallen asleep, he’s felt that way for a while. Teenage boys rarely went through
life without thinking about sex in some capacity, and he wasn’t any different.
None of his classmates were any different either. It was all they seemed to
talk about. Anything in a skirt seemed to be up for grabs, and though Severin
didn’t mind hearing about his friends’ conquests (mostly failed, but then
again, that’s what you got when you spent most of your time in the science
department), it was still not something he particularly felt comfortable
discussing.
That was, until he’d finally gotten the chance to do it. All at once.
Everything.
And it had been glorious. 
After that it had been hard not to try to have sex with anyone that looked
willing. And having sex apparently meant that you became a popular person.
Severin found himself invited to almost every party on the weekends. There was
drinking, drugs, and best of all, girls. Everywhere. And for some reason, they
all wanted to be around him.
Not that he minded, of course. Sex was great. He liked how soft girls were, how
their hair fell into their eyes, and sometimes onto his face. He liked the
noises they made when he did something right, either with his tongue or his
cock or his hands. He liked the smell of sex, and the way it felt to bury
himself deep inside of someone, or to tease them until they begged for it. It
was wonderful. It was the best.
Of course, slipping away after they fell asleep was never very fun, but the
girl who he’d lost it to the first time had acted like she didn’t want him
there after he’d woken up, so he’d figured that leaving was probably for the
best.
He’s able to slip out of Katie’s house as quietly as possible, thanking
whatever powers that be that her parents weren’t home. The last thing he needed
was to get caught by her father while sneaking out of the house. And Katie had
been loud, too…
He walks back home, still slightly drunk from the party, and fantasizing about
taking a nice, hot shower to take the smell of sex and alcohol off of him. It
hits him suddenly that he’d never be able to do this a year ago. Augustus would
have killed him for coming home so late, especially on a school night. Ever
since Sebastian had nearly beaten him to death he barely came out of his room
except to eat, work, and sometimes tell the two of them what to do, though now
there wasn’t any of the old bravado he used to have. He was basically powerless
over them now, and life had gotten so much easier.
Severin especially saw it in his brother. Sebastian seemed to change, not
obviously so, but enough that there was a marked difference from the boy who
was constantly walking on eggshells at home, to the man who now practically ran
the household. They spent time together now, both training for the army,
leaving thoughts of Oxford and law behind to be replaced with explosions, and
guns, and mile long runs in the hot sun. It was a welcome change, and it meant
that he could see his brother more, and spend more time together than they had
previously. They were close.
He heads into their room, climbing the stairs slowly, more listening for noises
than trying to be noiseless himself. If Sebastian had Matt over he really
didn’t want to interrupt whatever it was two men got up to when they were alone
together.
Severin stops just outside their door when the thought strikes him, and he
huffs out a laugh to himself.
What didtwo blokes do when they wanted to have sex? And not just touching
because, despite the hoodlum image Severin liked to portray, he wasn’t stupid,
and touching was pretty basic. But what about the good stuff? As in penetrative
stuff? He wrinkles his nose as he thinks the word, hating that it sounds so
clinical and abrasive. Then he remembers that he’s still pretty drunk, and
suddenly everything about it is funny, and he just has to know right this
minute.
He pushes his way into their room, stumbling over the rugby ball that Sebastian
had left there after practice the other day, and catches himself on the corner
of his brother’s bed, cursing. He hears Sebastian shift, and make a soft noise
from being startled awake. The lamp on the nightstand flickers on, casting the
room in an eerie light that showcases the dark a little more fully.
"Rin? What are you doing?" Sebastian asks, looking at the clock.
"Walking," Severing answers, standing in front of his brother’s bed, looking at
him, bare chested and sleepy. "I’m guessing Matt left then?"
"Yeah," Sebastian nods. One shoulder lifts in a shrug. "He had to go home. He
had a thing with his parents early tomorrow or something. How was the party?"
Severin hates that he can feel the old jealousy come back from when he hadn’t
liked Matt based on how much time he got close to his brother, and how they
were like him and Sebastian used to be; always together, always close, always
touching. Even though they spent plenty of time together now, it wasn’t
anything compared to what Matt got. The need to know burns at him suddenly, and
he hesitates, fidgeting nervously, not sure what to say. Luckily, Sebastian can
tell, though he’s always been able to. It was nice to know that he still could.
"Are you alright?" he asks, looking at him with concern in his blue eyes, eyes
that matched his own perfectly. "Did something happen?"
Severin pauses, and decides that he might as well just get it out. It was a
simple question, and Sebastian wouldn’t hate him for asking.
"Rin, just spit it-"
"What’s it like to kiss a guy?"
He can hear the words come out of his mouth, but it’s too late to stop them.
They’re already out there, hanging in the space between the two of them. It
hadn’t even been what he’d meant to ask. He’d only been planning on trying to
tease his brother while getting some kind of information out of him. Now things
were awkward. The look of surprise and bitten back shame on Sebastian’s face
was enough ridicule, and he hadn’t even been trying to make him feel bad.
"I didn’t mean-"
"Sev, I don’t-"
"Oh come off it already!" Severin can’t help but shout, turning his
embarrassment into amusing exasperation. "I’m not stupid. He’s over almost
every single night, and you’re practically shoving me out the door once he gets
here. I’m not judging you or anything but I want you to admit it for once. Just
to me. When did we start hiding things from each other?" It all comes out in a
rush, and he watches Sebastian’s face carefully as he speaks, seeing the
flicker of emotions and naming them one by one in his mind. Embarrassment.
Anger. Hurt. Resignation. Determination. There’s a moment of silence, a little
more than a beat, before Sebastian speaks finally.
"It…it’s rough," he says, as though he’s unsure. And to be fair, he’s never
talked about it before so describing it might be the first time he’s letting
himself acknowledge it. He sits up more fully, and Severin can see the way he’s
digging his nails into the palm of his hand, not to hurt himself, just to
dispel some nervous energy. "It’s rougher than kissing girls. Why are you even
asking?"
Severin shrugs, and starts shucking off his clothes when his brother’s done
speaking, putting on his pajamas so he can collapse right into bed when this is
all over. “Just…I’ve kissed a lot of girls. I’ve never seen you with any. I was
just wondering what was so special about guys. I guess.”
"Are you interested?"
"In what?"
"Men!"
"No!" Severin says, wrinkling his nose in disgust and plopping onto Sebastian’s
bed as he pulls a shirt over his head. "I just said I was curious. Pervert."
"Wanker."
"Cunt."
Sebastian thumps Severin with his pillow, and Severin loses his balance,
flopping down onto  his back and looking up at the ceiling, staying there for a
minute, too drunk to continue what would otherwise become a tussle.
"What else is different about it?" he asks after a moment, mostly to keep
Sebastian from turning off the light. He’d missed talking to him, and if this
was the only way to do it then he’d take it with the added bonus of getting his
curiosity sated.
"I dunno," Sebastian sighs, rubbing a hand over his face to dispel the last
dregs of sleepiness. "It’s just…nicer than girls I suppose. For me, anyway. I
always feel like I’m going to break a girl if I touch her. Men are just…harder
I guess."
"I hope that wasn’t a pun."
"Har bloody har. Why don’t you just go back to sleep?" Sebastian asks, rolling
his eyes.
"Because I still have questions!" Severin says, and sits up again, scooting
towards his brother so he can hear him if he speaks lower.
"Well you might as well get it out of your system now then."
"How do two blokes…you know?" Severin asks, trying to find a gesture with his
hands that won’t look ridiculous. Sebastian snorts and swats at his hands.
"You really can’t figure that one out for yourself?"
"Well I figured ya know…touching and things," he says, avoiding Sebastian’s
eyes studiously, willing himself not to remember the night that they’d touched
each other. "And I’m assuming blow jobs are an activity as well. I just
mean…Don’t you ever actually get to fuck?"
Sebastian snorts, and stares at his brother for a second, as if waiting for him
to deliver the rest of a joke. “Seriously?”
"Well…yeah."
"What else do you think Matt and I do? Crossword puzzles?"
"Well I knew you were doing things I just didn’t know to what extent."
"Well now you do," Sebastian says, reaching over Severin to turn the light off,
pausing with his hand on the switch. "Are you going to pass out here again?
Because if you are then let me know so I can move to the couch."
"So you fuck each other in the arse then?" Severin says quickly, figuring he
might as well get as specific as possible while effectively ignoring his
brother.
"When we’re not fucking each other’s mouths, yeah," Sebastian answers, sighing.
"Doesn’t that hurt though?" Severin pulls a face. "It’s all…dry there. Girls
get all wet, how…?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes, and pulls open his drawer in the nightstand, throwing
a bottle at his brother. “Lube works just as well.”
Severin catches it, and looks at the label, trying not to think about what this
bottle’s seen. “So it doesn’t hurt?”
"If it hurts do you really think I’d do it?"
"I don’t know," Severin shrugs. "You play rugby. You get in fights at school.
You do a lot of things that hurt you for fun."
Sebastian frowns, and looks down at his hand, picking at his cuticles. “I
guess,” he says finally, shrugging, and not for the first time Severin wishes
that he did have twin telepathy so he could figure out what Sebastian was
thinking about behind his stoic expressions, and deflection of questions
through toughness and smart ass comebacks. Unable to help himself, he turns off
the light, and pushes Sebastian back onto the bed, wrapping himself around him
the same way he used to when they were when they were kids, before everything
had changed. Briefly he remembers the hurt from being pushed out of his
brother’s bed, and the feeling of rejection that followed him for years after.
He half expects the same thing to happen this time, but soon enough Sebastian
relaxes against him, and he pulls the blankets on top of them, turning to face
him so they’re nose to nose. Freckles to freckles. Blue eyes to blue eyes.
It was a little different now. They weren’t little. Neither of them had scraped
up knees anymore; just scars and bruised knuckles. Their parents weren’t
fighting tonight. One of them was dead, and the other had been beaten into
submission, no longer the roaring beast of their nightmares. They were headed
to wherever the army sent them after basic training. They were going to be the
dynamic duo on the playground again. They’d give everyone hell. They’d
succeeded. They’d finally made it. Together. The thought makes Severin smile,
and he can feel Sebastian mirror it despite himself.
"Something funny?" he asks, and Severin shakes his head, unable to help the
grin on his face, or the way he leans in and kisses his brother.
"Not at all."
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