Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3100037.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Remus_Lupin/Regulus_Black
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Regulus_Black
  Additional Tags:
      Self-Harm, dub-con
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-01-03 Words: 1534
****** In The Bathroom ******
by iamisaac
Harry Potter: Remus/Regulus
Harry Potter
Remus/Regulus
NC17
1556 words
trigger warnings for self-harm and chan (15 year old)
It was the nearest bathroom to the Potions classroom, but the least used. Cold,
dank and usually dark, most students needed to be absolutely desperate in order
to go into it. But Remus had suffered privations much worse than this and
survived. He liked the room for its very desolate bleakness; somewhere he could
think in peace. He pushed open the door and went in.
Went in, and stumbled. There was someone already there, sitting on the floor –
and Remus had just fallen over him.
“I'm sor-” Remus began, as he looked down. Then he realised who and what he was
seeing. Regulus Black, Sirius's brother. Not just that, but... Regulus Black,
covered in blood. “Dear god,” he said, almost whispering in disbelief, “what's
happened to you?”
“Nothing.” The majority of the blood, Remus noticed (his mind still numb with
shock) was on Reg's arms. Reg put his hands across himself protectively, trying
to cover the cuts up.
“You need the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey. I'll just -”
“DON'T.” The word was almost yelled. Regulus was looking up at Remus with
large, pleading eyes. It was strange, Remus thought, the way that Reg looked so
similar to Sirius and yet had expressions which were so un-Sirius-like. Just as
now. Remus had known Sirius for over six years, but still couldn't imagine
seeing that particular look of fear and desperation in his face.
“Reg,” he said softly, “you're hurt. You need help.” He suddenly noticed the
knife, held loosely in one of Regulus's hands. Reg, seeing his gaze, dropped it
quickly, sliding it under his robes as if to hide it.
“I don't. I'm fine. Please – please, don't.” Regulus grasped at Remus's robes,
as if physically to hold him back from leaving.
“I have to. I'm a prefect.” Then, as Reg's eyes seemed to fill with tears,
Remus tried to soften his stance. The kid was a Slytherin and a Black - but he
was still only a kid. “I could just tell Sirius, maybe. Just your brother.”
“No. Please, please, please, no. Not him. Anyone but him. Anyway,” Reg added
shakily, “he's disowned me.”
Remus raised his eyebrows, remembering the circumstances in which Sirius had
become estranged from his family. Burned off the family tapestry, as he
recalled – and the fact that a family tapestry existed told more than one
needed to know about the Blacks and their pure-blood stance. “I rather thought
it was the other way around,” he murmured. But the point was irrelevant in the
circumstances. Regulus was not to blame for the pure-blood pride he'd had
driven into him. And he was hurting. “I must tell someone, Reg.” His voice was
gentle - as gentle as his gesture, as he took one of Regulus's hands and pulled
it away from the boy's body to look at the deep slashes incised down the
outside and inside of his arm. Self inflicted. Reg's shame and embarrassment
would have told him that even if it weren't obvious from the cuts themselves,
shallower on his dominant arm since his left hand was that much weaker. Remus
sighed. “I have to tell.”
“No!”
The tears fell from Regulus's eyes now, dripping down his cheeks almost in a
mirror of the blood which dripped down his arms. He clutched harder at Remus's
robes, his hand brushing accidentally against Remus's cock. Remus hated himself
for the way this inadvertent contact turned him on; he could feel himself
stiffening even with that slightest of touches.
“I can't keep this secret,” he said, looking down at Reg's dark head, at the
crimson blood-stains on the boy's arms, the rusty-wine stains they'd made on
the floor. “I can't not tell Sirius. He's my best friend. How can I keep
something like this from him?”
“He doesn't care. Remus, please.”
Remus knew more than anyone that this wasn't true. But Reg would never believe
him. And anyway, in the circumstances...
“I have to.” Remus bit his lip; it seemed cruel to insist on something which
made Regulus so unhappy, but he had no choice. Something was wrong. Something
was so, so wrong that would make a boy do this to himself. And Remus, though he
hated the knowledge, knew that he couldn't make it better. Not alone. Reg
needed help.
“I could... pay you,” Regulus said hesitantly, looking up at Remus from behind
hooded eyes.
Remus recoiled. “God, Regulus Black” - and the surname was an insult, all of
Sirius's comments about his family coming back to him - “I don't want your
money.”
“I didn't mean that.” Regulus was still clutching at Remus's robes. “I've seen
you looking at my broth... at Sirius. You want... but he doesn't know, doesn't
want you back. Not that way.” Remus felt the heat of shame rushing unexpectedly
to his cheeks. How did Regulus know about that? Was Remus really that obvious?
He'd thought his crush, lust, (call it what you wanted) was well hidden.
Private. Merlin, was the entire school laughing at his pathetic fantasies? “No
one knows,” Reg said hastily, reading Remus's expression accurately. “I've
never said anything, and no one else has seen. It's just...”
“I don't know what you mean,” Remus lied, instinctively.
“I know you want him,” Regulus said, wide eyes fixed on Remus. Remus would have
looked away, but somehow he couldn't. Not now. “And I look like him.” Regulus's
fingers brushed Remus's cock through his robes again, this time with clear
intent. “I could...”
“No. Merlin, no. I don't want...” But Regulus had started stroking Remus's cock
- slowly and carefully, fingers tentative but sure; and oh god Remus didn't
want him to stop. “Don't,” Remus said; but he didn't move away.
Regulus brought his other hand up, bloody fingers undoing the buttons on the
lower half of Remus's robes.
“Reg, don't,” Remus said again, weakly. “You don't need to do this.”
“I want to.”
And oh, he looked like Sirius. And oh, his hands were so good, so damn good
against Remus's body. And he had undone the buttons, and was sliding a hand
inside Remus's boxers, sliding it firm and sure around Remus's cock. And how
could something which felt so right be wrong?
“No,” Remus said again, pushing half-heartedly at Regulus's hands. “Really. You
mustn't.”
Regulus took no notice, instead leaning forward and – oh fuck, fuck, fuck -
taking the tip of Remus's cock into the warmth of his mouth, and there was no
way Remus could possibly move, could possibly do anything with Reg doing just
that. Regulus leaned further in, taking more of Remus inside him; sucking him
further and further in before moving back out and starting again. Remus's hands
and eyes were both clenched shut – if he didn't see, it wasn't happening; if he
didn't think, it really could be Sirius in front of him, Sirius with his mouth
around Remus's cock. Either way... God help him, there was nothing he could do,
no way he could protest against such a persuasively wanton argument. His
fingers, despite himself, loosened to tangle in Regulus's black hair (so like
Sirius's); he felt himself thrusting his hips towards the younger boy – and Reg
took, and took, and kept on taking everything Remus was giving.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh.”
Remus came, riding a wave he'd only ever found alone before. He came, and saw
Regulus, kneeling in front of him. Regulus, with a stream of semen sliding over
his chin. A stream of Remus's semen. Sirius's little brother, covered in
ejaculate where Remus had come on his face. Exiled from his family or not,
Sirius would murder Remus if he knew - and Remus wouldn't blame him.
Regulus's voice, small and pleading, said: “You won't tell? You won't tell on
me?” as if he were a naughty five year old.
A naughty five year old whose mouth Remus had just fucked.
“No,” Remus heard himself saying, his self-esteem hitting a rock-bottom it had
never before reached, “no, of course I won't.”
Regulus Black, covered in blood and semen. Regulus Black, kneeling at Remus's
feet. Do you really not deserve the disgust your condition gets you from other
people, Remus? When you'd sell your soul and your honour for a quick blow job
from a fifteen year old kid in a toilet?Remus didn't need anyone else to say it
aloud: the words were loud enough in his mind as it was.
“If you... if you ever want...” Regulus's voice trailed off, but his meaning
was clear.
“No,” said Remus hurriedly, tucking himself away, muttering a cleaning spell.
Later he'd wonder – had he known, even then, that he'd do it again? He'd like
to think that he hadn't... but then he'd like to think that the whole episode –
the whole affair – had never taken place. When Sirius had commented on the
blood-stains on his robe, what had Remus said? When he saw Regulus Black at the
Slytherin table, what had Remus remembered?
There were many people, many times, who told or showed Remus how much they
despised him. If only they'd known – no one, no one on earth, despised Remus
Lupin more than he did himself.
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