Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/985460.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Marvel_Ultimates
  Relationship:
      Tony_Stark/Gregory_Stark
  Character:
      Tony_Stark_(Ultimates), Gregory_Stark, Thor_(Ultimates)_-_Character,
      Steve_Rogers_(Ultimates)
  Additional Tags:
      Canonical_Character_Death, Alternate_Universe_-_Hogwarts
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-30 Words: 3587
****** a spell for letting go ******
by starkoholic
Summary
     The Stark brothers go to Hogwarts.
Notes
     happy birthday rian!!!!!! um. I hope this is acceptable
     also thank you thank you thank you to gi for looking over this at the
     last minute and not judging me uwu
I.
“Stark, Anthony.”
Tony steps forward, glancing over at his brother as the hat is lowered onto his
head. Greg’s staring off into the distance, that obnoxious expression he always
gets when he’s running calculations or ignoring Tony (or both) on his face.
Tony huffs in frustration, because why is Greg still ignoring him, what did he
do? Greg’s been like this ever since they got their acceptance letters, has
been ignoring him and refusing to talk about it and Tony’s sick of it.
He’s so focused on Greg that he jumps in surprise at the Sorting Hat’s voice in
his ear.
“Problems with the brother, eh?”
What?
“Oh, you’re not the first, you’re definitely not the first. They’re such
trouble, families, you know? The best and the worst, and twins, oh ho ho, twins
are even better.”
I don’t wanna talk about it, Tony grumbles in the privacy of his own mind. He
doesn’t want to think about Greg, but he can’t help it and the Hat’s not making
it easier.
“Of course, that’s not why we’re here after all. Right! Let’s get you sorted,
young Anthony. You, you’re an odd one. Clever, certainly, genius, I’d say.
Ravenclaw, perhaps? You’re certainly talented enough, but perhaps the pursuit
of knowledge for knowledge’s sake isn’t for you.
“Hmmm...Slytherin, now, Slytherin is what made your father, and you are a Stark
after all. I see greatness in you, you have what it takes to be a great wizard,
and Slytherin can help.”
No, Tony thinks, Not Slytherin,Gregcan have Slytherin—
“Well that’s a thought. Let him have the old house, let the eldest take on the
family legacy while you strike out on your own? You can, you know. You have
that independent streak, the courage to do so. And you have such a drive, a
drive to prove yourself, to help, don’t you?”
I want him to notice me, Tony thinks miserably, and how sad is that? It’s the
biggest moment of his life, he’s finally in Hogwarts, about to be sorted into
the house that will define him for the rest of his life and all he can think is
I want Greg to pay attention to me again—
“Yes,” the Hat’s voice is drawn out, almost a hiss, “Yes, you could do great
things in Slytherin but for you, perhaps the best choice is...
“GRYFFINDOR,” the shout rings out around the hall, and the restless murmur that
had started up dies down immediately. Tony looks over as the hat is lifted off
his head, and he doesn’t even register the surprised applause from the
Gryffindor table. All he can see are Greg’s eyes, identical to his own but wide
with shock and anger, staring directly at him.
Tony shoots him the most annoying smirk he can manage, and it morphs into a
brilliant grin as he watches his twin’s face gets redder and redder. He jumps
down from the platform and heads over to the Gryffindor table, knowing Greg’s
eyes are on him the whole way.
II.
There are distinct advantages to Tony’s recent promotion to captain of the
Gryffindor team. The main one being, of course, access to the fifth floor
Prefects’ bathroom. And while normally he’d have invited someone along to join
him, and he’d briefly considered sending a note to Romanoff, today he’s fine
with being alone.
The slosh of water echoes across marbled walls as Tony sinks down into the
bath, hissing as various bruises and cuts make themselves known. Thor, the
fucking maniac, had been slightly too enthusiastic during Quidditch practice,
knocking a Bludger in the wrong direction, which resulted in Tony getting
knocked off his fucking broom and into the stands. Luckily, Peter had been
quick with a cushioning charm, but it still hurt. Thor had more than made up
for it in the locker room afterwards, though, but while it had been fun at the
time it meant that Tony was even more sore now.
Tony smirks, remembering Rogers' expression after he and Thor had finally
exited the lockers. Steve always had that same look every time he caught Thor
and Tony together, something between constipated anger and arousal. Lately, the
looks Steve has been throwing at them have been more arousal and less
constipation and Tony is convinced that by this time next year he’ll have
persuaded Steve to join them.
A sharp throb from the back of his head distracts him, and he reaches up to rub
gingerly at the sore spot. He must have hit his head slightly harder than he’d
thought. Fuck, it better not be concussed, then he’d actually have to go to the
nurse.
He starts drifting off as he contemplates the upgrades he's planning for his
now damaged broomstick, lulled by the warmth of the bath and the play of light
through the stain glass windows. His aching body finally starts to relax when
he jerks awake, startled by a thump and the sound of muffled swearing outside
the bathroom door. He'd set the privacy spell so even if someone had this
week's password they would be locked out, but he recognizes that voice.
"Tony, I know you're in there," Tony sighs at the sound of that familiar
obnoxious tone. So much for his alone time.
"Sod off, Greg darling," he calls out, sinking further down into the water.
"I'm not really in the mood for your particular brand of dickishness today.”
There’s another muffled whump and Tony realizes too late that his lock charm
has been broken as Greg stumbles into the bathroom. His twin straightens
immediately, smoothing down his hair and tugging his embroidered bathrobe back
into place, trying to seem as if he had just waltzed easily into the room.
Tony curses the fact that his twin is the only wizard alive who can counter his
magic that easily. His life being the great cosmic joke that it is, if he had
anyone else for a twin, he’d have been grateful to have someone with whom his
magic was so compatible. As it is, he’s pretty sure Greg is going to use their
connection to kill him eventually.
Tony rolls his eyes as Greg resets the lock charm with a flick of his wrist and
turns to sneer down at him. So it’s going to be like that then. Alright. Tony
slouches down further into the water, spreading his legs under the water and
stretching his arms out behind him over the back of the pool, adopting a
relaxed pose. He watches as Greg’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyelids
going heavy as his gaze lingers on the bruises streaking Tony’s chest.
Greg notices him looking, and turns away quickly to start undressing, a slight
flush on his cheeks. Tony grins.
Greg clears his throat, but his voice is still slightly hoarse as he says "What
did you do this time, baby brother? Let a herd of centaurs fuck you?”
Tony raises an eyebrow. “Why Greg darling, it’s like you almost care.”
“Spare me. I just want to know if you’re damaged goods, because otherwise I
wasted time hunting you down—”
Greg’s mouth snaps shut, eyes darting to Tony’s as he realizes he just gave
away a bit too much. Tony widens his eyes and grins in delight, slipping away
from the edge of the tub and swimming over towards Greg. His twin stands at the
far side of the bath, eyes fixed on Tony’s chest as he slowly rises out of the
water, walking up the pool’s marble steps until he’s right in Greg’s space. He
reaches out with one dripping hand and grabs the edge of his brother’s robe,
using it to pull him in close.
“Why Greg, dearest brother, if you wanted me that badly all you had to do was
ask—”
He's cut off as Greg lets out an angry growl and kisses him, hard and fast and
crushing. Tony gasps in pain as Greg tightens his hands around his bruised
arms, and Greg takes the opportunity to push his tongue into his brother’s
mouth. His hands move over Tony’s naked body, running over his ribs and back,
pressing on various bruises and tracing the cuts along his left side where he
had taken the most damage. Tony lets out a whimper. He’s still too tender for
his twin’s typical roughness, and he tries to push back, get him to let up a
little.
It’s no use, and in retaliation Greg sucks Tony’s bottom lip into his mouth and
bites, the sadist, the bright pain of it going straight to Tony’s cock.
“Merlin’s ass, Greg, do you have to be such a—”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up—”
Greg wraps his hand around Tony’s cock, stroking it into full hardness, and
Tony can feel his twin (heh) erection pressing into his thigh through the thick
layer of fabric. Okay. So Greg's going to be like that then. Okay.
This isn’t the first time they’ve done this. No, that was during their third
year, when Tony had snuck down to the Slytherin dungeons for the first time
after their father’s death. Greg hadn’t put up his usual protests at finding
Tony in his bed, he’d just grunted and locked the door to the dormitory. Tony
hadn’t cried, because the last thing he’d ever do was cry over Howard Stark,
but he’d wanted something more from his brother that night. It had been tame,
by his standards now, but it had happened, and the significant thing was that
it had kept on happening. He doesn’t know what goes through his brother’s mind
most of the time, but he knows how to make him come.
It’s fucked up, but it’s a start at least.
Tony pushes at Greg, catching him off guard, until his back is against the cool
tiled wall. Greg glares at him opening his mouth to protest, but Tony surges
forward and kisses him to forestall any protests.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Tony mutters as he pulls back, and he makes
to undo the knot keeping the robe closed but his brother grabs his wrists
before he can get to the tie. Tony hisses as Greg squeezes a little too tightly
on the one he’s beginning to suspect is sprained. Greg raises an eyebrow at
that.
“So I suppose there’s a reason you haven’t gone to the hospital wing yet, idiot
baby brother of mine,” Tony jerks his head up at the unexpected softness of
Greg’s tone, but his brother’s face is impenetrable, betraying no emotion other
than contempt.
Tony shrugs. “Eh, they notice everything and I’m sick of getting the safe sex
lecture with too many wand metaphors.”
Greg’s eyes flick down Tony’s body, examining the finger-shaped bruises on his
hips. He purses his lips and reaches down to Tony’s ass, feeling where he’s
lose and still somewhat slick, despite the water having washed away most of the
evidence. Tony sucks in a breath at the intrusion and slaps his hand away. Greg
gives him a look.
“Slut.”
Coming from anyone else, it might have been said with affection, or insult.
Tony knows his brother is just stating a fact as he sees it.
Tony shrugs again. “I can still give you a blowjob, darling. Don’t be so
grumpy, just because you can’t fuck me.”
Greg just glares at him impatiently.
Tony smirks and sinks down to his knees, running his hands down Greg’s sides as
he does so, feeling his brother shiver slightly under his touch. As he gets eye
level to his crotch, he looks up, grinning at the sight that greets him. Greg’s
eyes are riveted on Tony’s face, his breath quickening. The hedonistic bastard
always did love to watch Tony suck his cock.
Tony reaches for the knot of the bathrobe again, and this time Greg doesn’t
stop him. The robe falls open, revealing pale skin and his hard cock straining
against his briefs. Greg slides his hands into Tony’s hair, who lets out a hum
of contentment, eyes fluttering shut. The gesture is unusually tender for his
brother, and he’ll take what he can get at this point.
Tony licks his lips as he pulls Greg’s cock out and takes it in hand. Greg lets
out a sharp breath, and he digs his hands into Tony’s hair and pulls. Tony
moans gracelessly at the electric pain prickling across his scalp. Greg tugs
again. Tony gets the memo, but can’t resist teasing his brother just a bit
more. He stills his hand and glances up at Greg through his lashes.
“Aren’t you worried about missing curfew, Mr. Prefect?”
“Tony just shut the hell up and—”
The rest of Greg’s retort is lost in a moan as Tony swallows his cock down,
taking all of him in before pulling back slightly to suck at the tip. Greg’s
hips give an abortive thrust, pushing his cock into Tony’s face, but Tony
reaches out and settles his hands on Greg’s hips, pressing them against the
wall. He’s not quite up for Greg fucking his face today, thank you very much,
not with his ribs in the state they’re in.
Instead, he starts moving his head, allowing the heavy weight of Greg’s cock to
slide along his tongue. His earlier resentment at his entitled bastard of a
brother fades as he loses himself in the pleasure of sucking his dick. He’ll
never admit it out loud but he really, really loves getting Greg off. Not
because the miserable bastard’s ever grateful, god no. But the way he looks at
Tony…It’s fucked up, he knows it’s fucked up, but the way his brother looks at
him when Tony’s getting him off actually reminds him of when they were younger,
before their magic ever showed up, before Greg became cold and distant and
resentful. And yeah, Tony knows just how pathetic he is for it.
Greg’s starting to thrust into his mouth again, and Tony grunts in displeasure
before grabbing his hips and shoving them a bit more forcefully this time.
Greg’s fingers tighten in his hair but he stills as Tony moves to lap at his
balls, using one hand to continue stroking his saliva-slicked cock. He thumbs
at the leaking head, and feels Greg’s cock jump in his hand.
Tony moves his mouth back to Greg’s dick, licking at the precome beading at the
head. To his shock, his brother lets out a small groan as Tony tongues the
slit, more than he ever gives away normally. Tony glances up at his face as he
licks a long, slow stripe up the underside of Greg’s dick. Greg’s eyes are
riveted on him, pupils huge and dark. The sight is absolutely addicting.
Tony hollows his cheeks and smoothly takes Greg’s dick all the way down again,
feeling the  the pulse on his tongue as the head almost bumps the back of his
throat. He starts bobbing his head again, making sloppy wet noises and groaning
occasionally as Greg’s hands wander down to cup his jaw and to trace the
outline of his dick through Tony’s cheek. Tony turns his head slightly into the
touch for a moment before settling back into the rhythm.
He reaches down to his own cock, his arousal almost forgotten in his focus on
Greg. He’s still hard, he can feel a building pressure that indicates he’s
almost close to coming just from sucking his brother’s dick. Yeah. It’s really
fucked up.
Greg reaches the edge far quicker than he was anticipating, there’s only a
sharp intake of breath and a hand clenching on his face to warn him as Greg’s
cock swells slightly in his mouth and he comes with another small groan. He
holds Tony’s face to his crotch, (as if Tony ever does anything but swallow),
Tony dutifully sucking down everything he can. Greg holds him there for a
minute longer as he empties down his twin’s throat and Tony strokes through his
own orgasm.
As Greg’s hands loosen on his head, he pulls back, already reaching up to work
his sore jaw. He slumps back on his calves as Greg moves away, his body and
head aching too much to ignore now. He hurts even more than he did before, and
there’s a weird buzzing in the back of his brain, and shit, if he actually did
get a concussion today he really can’t avoid the infirmary.
Tony’s startled out of his thoughts by a splashing sound, and turns around to
see Greg has shed his robe entirely and is entering the bath. Tony stands,
joints creaking in protest. He grabs his own towel and wipes himself off,
drying off the rest of his body and slipping into his own robe.
This is how it always is, afterwards, with Greg refusing to speak to him and
barely acknowledging his presence. It’ll be a few days, maybe a week, before
one of them corners the other in some unused classroom, or one of the secret
passages they’ve uncovered over the years, and it starts all over again.
Tony sighs, gathers up his things, and limps out the door to head to the
hospital wing.
III.
Tony is standing in the rubble of the Great Hall, gripping his wand tightly.
Ash is raining down around him, the smell of burning flesh is still hanging in
the air, and a soft, broken sobbing noise is echoing from somewhere closeby.
He kneels down in the middle of the hall, reaching out to trace the blackened
stone floor where Thor’s spell had—
Where Greg had—
Tony chokes just thinking about it.
The bodies have been cleared away, and most of the blood and magical residue
have been scrubbed from the castle, but the place is still a wreck. It’s
nowhere near as bad as the last time the castle was attacked, but Greg and his
cronies had made a fine effort of outdoing one of the worst events in Hogwarts’
history. Tony sighs. That would be his brother after all. Always had to be the
best.
Fuck him, damn him thrice and fuck him straight to hell, how dare he—
Tony clenches his jaw in frustration. The whole damn mess was his fault, after
all. If he had known what the hell his twin had been up to, had known about
Greg’s secret army, his plans of an uprising, his simultaneous attacks on the
ministry and the magical schools in Europe…
What the hell did you hope to accomplish, Greg, he thinks, standing up again
and wiping his fingers on his robe distractedly. What kind of game had Greg
been playing at? There had been no sustainable end goal here, even if his
brother had managed to take out England’s top magical institutions, he’d never
have been able to win the war. What thefuckwere you thinking, Greg? How was
this going to end in anything but your death?
He swallows, feeling the ash and blood catch in his throat. He blinks back
tears, frustrated with Greg and the damn Ministry and with himself and why did
no one stop him, how the hell did a seventeen year old kid manage to inflict
this much damage, how did it get to the point where Tony had been forced to
break Greg’s shield spell as only he could, allowing Thor to hit him with his
signature lightning spell—
Why was he forced to kill his twin brother?
God, he needs a drink. And not goddamn butterbeer.
“Tony?”
He’s so lost in his resentment that he almost misses the soft tone, only
startled out of his thoughts by the touch to his shoulder. He jerks away from
the touch, only to realize it’s just Thor, who raises his hands quickly in
appeasement.
“Relax, Anthony, it’s just me,” Thor’s voice is a soothing low rumble and Tony
sways towards him, nearly drunk with exhaust. He’s been up for nearly thirty
hours now, and the battle had taken the last of his strength. Thor catches him
with one hand as he sways dangerously again, and Tony nearly collapses against
his chest. Tony’s not exactly short, but Thor is practically part giant, so he
towers over everyone except Steve.
“How’re the others,” he manages to mumble into Thor’s pecs. “Sue? Barton? How’s
Steve?”
"Recuperating in the healing rooms,” Thor says, running a hand through Tony’s
hair. Tony sighs. He knows he doesn’t deserve that gesture of comfort. But that
isn’t enough to make him pull away. “Headmistress Chang ordered us all to
report there. And that includes you as well Anthony. There’s nothing you can do
here.”
“I know, Thor, I just wanted to see where he. Well. I just wanted to see.
Before they cleaned everything up.”
Thor pulls back, his eyes so full of empathy it hurts. Tony ducks his head,
unable to meet those kind eyes that know all too well what he’s going through.
He’s not the only one who lost a brother today, nor is he the only one
suffering from the vicious sting of betrayal.
Thor doesn’t have to say anything. He just stands with Tony as he memorizes
everything, the smell, the sounds, the sight of the blackened outline of his
brother’s body on the floor of the hall where they had both stood only seven
years ago, waiting to be sorted.
Maybe I should have chosen Slytherin after all.
Tony brushes the thought from his mind, and lets Thor lead him away.
 
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