Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/698719.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Regulus_Black/Sirius_Black, Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin, Regulus_Black/
      Original_Character(s)
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Sirius_Black, Regulus_Black, James_Potter, Fabian_Prewett,
      Gideon_Prewett, Andromeda_Black_Tonks, Nymphadora_Tonks, Severus_Snape,
      Kreacher_(Harry_Potter), Bartemius_Crouch_Jr.
  Additional Tags:
      Blackcest, Sibling_Incest, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Dubious
      Consent, Prostitution, Organized_Crime, Slave_Trade, Drug_Use, Minor
      Violence, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Underage_Sex, Kidnapping
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-24 Chapters: 18/18 Words: 52245
****** Paved With Good Intentions ******
by REwrites
Summary
     “I’m going to take care of us,” he says, and Regulus is unable to
     prevent a derisive scoff from escaping. He feels a warm hand grip his
     chin, forcing him to look in to steely grey eyes, so much like his
     own, full of earnest hope and determination. “I promise.” Sirius gets
     an unpleasant birthday gift and decides to take Regulus and run away.
     Non-magic AU feat. RB/SB.
Notes
     Special thanks to
     [http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=101.4]
m3535 who is an absolute darling and has more faith in me than I do in myself
half the time.
***** Chapter 1 *****
“Regulus…wake up!”
An urgent hand is shaking him from his sleep. He flings his arm wildly at the
nuisance, his eyes still closed, making connection and pushing the hand away
roughly.
“Go away, Sirius,” he says sleepily and burrows further into the warm embrace
of his pillow. Cold air assaults him as his blanket is pulled from the bed in
one grand gesture. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he screeches,
fully awake now and glaring at his older brother who is standing beside his
bed.
“Shhh, you’ll wake the whole house,” Sirius hisses, throwing a nervous glance
over his shoulder.
He notices, through his sleep fogged brain, that Sirius is dressed, not in
sleep clothes, but in jeans and a t-shirt. He is also wearing a jacket and an
anxious expression, a rucksack strapped to his back. Regulus’s own rucksack is
dangling from his hand.
“What’s going on?” he asks, sitting up and reaching for his watch on the
bedside table. It’s just after three in the morning. Sirius deposits the
rucksack into his lap and moves quickly over to the wardrobe and begins pulling
clothing out at random. “Sirius?”
“We have to get out of here, Reg,” he says, throwing shirts and various items
of clothing over his arm.
“What do you mean we have to get out of here?” Regulus asks, still sitting in
his bed. What the hell was Sirius going on about? Sirius dumps the armload of
clothes onto the bed and moves over to the writing desk by the window.
“Pack those clothes in the bag. Do you still keep your money in this drawer?”
he asks, pulling the second drawer from the top and lifting the small piece of
wood that replaced the bottom. He watches Sirius pocket a wad of cash.
“What are you doing?” he asks angrily, rising from the bed finally and moving
to stand beside his brother.
“Shut up!” Sirius whispers and Regulus is thrown at the look of fear in his
brother’s eyes.
True concern finally hits him. “Sirius, what’s going on? Why do we have to
leave?” he asks tremulously. He’s never seen his brother this agitated, it’s
late, and, if Regulus is putting two and two together, Sirius is talking about
running away.
Sirius runs a hand through his hair and places his hands on Regulus shoulders,
looking him directly in eye. “Reg, I promise I will explain but we have to
leave. Now. Get dressed, pack your bag and anything you think you might need.
We’re not coming back here, do you understand? We can’t ever come back.”
                                      oOo
Fifteen minutes later, Regulus is helping Sirius wheel his new motorbike up the
long drive to the street. “Don’t want them to hear,” Sirius explains when they
pull it from garage. They walk in silence, only the crunching sound of gravel
and the occasional owl making any noise in the night.
Regulus glances back behind him at the dark windows of the grand manor house.
Having never seen it at this hour, it looks surprisingly empty and menacing. Or
maybe he’s just a little too wound up. Sirius isn’t making much sense and,
though he would never let Sirius know it, he’s starting to feel a little
frightened.
They reach the street and Sirius hands his rucksack to his brother “Need you to
hold onto it for now,” Sirius says as he fits the only helmet onto Regulus’s
head and fastens the clutch under his chin. When he’s satisfied it is secure,
he throws a leg over the bike and helps Regulus onto the seat behind him,
wrapping his arms around his waist. “Hang on,” he says over his shoulder and
kicks the motor to life.
Regulus clutches his brother tightly as they speed off into the night. He
glances back again at the dark house growing smaller and smaller in distance.
The air is cold and stinging his cheeks and he buries his face in the fabric of
Sirius’s leather jacket. Anxiety is twisting in his gut but he trusts his
brother, so he hugs him tightly and puts his faith in the boy who is taking him
away.
                                      oOo
They drive for what feels like hours, stopping once to refuel and grab a quick
snack. Regulus still has no idea what they were running from or why. When the
sky begins to lighten, just as Regulus is beginning to nod off, Sirius pulls
off the road. He leads them into woods, just off the main road, deep enough so
they can no longer see beyond trees. They reached a small clearing and throw
their bags onto the ground. Sirius sits against the base of a tree, his elbows
on his knees, clutching at his hair. Regulus sits beside him and waits.
“I’m sorry, Reg,” he says finally. “I just couldn’t stay a moment longer. I
don’t know if bringing you with me was the right thing to do but I couldn’t
just leave you. Not when…”
“Not when what?”
Sirius shrugs out of his jacket and holds his arm out for Regulus to see. It is
bandaged but he can see dots of bright red blood seeping through the white
cotton. Carefully, Sirius unwraps the bandage until Regulus can see mutilated
flesh on his forearm. The wound looks angry, blistering in an interesting
pattern. It almost looked like…
“A skull. Burned into my skin,” Sirius says, his voice shaking with some
curious emotion Regulus can’t place. “They fucking burned me, Reg. Happy
birthday, Sirius. Here’s a motorbike oh and, by the way, we’re going to mark
you with this hot iron. Hope you don’t mind.”
“But why? Why would mum and dad do such a thing?” he asks, trying
unsuccessfully to look anywhere but the mark on his brother’s arm. The sight of
it is making him sick. Sirius is quiet as he wraps the bandage around his arm
once more and Regulus is grateful he can no longer see it.
“Mum and dad…they’re in some kind of cult,” Sirius begins. “Apparently,
seventeen is when they initiate you into their ranks. Remember after dinner? I
wanted to go out with some friends but they told me there was something special
they had planned and wouldn’t let me?”
Regulus nods, they’d left him behind and he’d been more than a little angry. So
what if it wasn’t his birthday. He hated being excluded.
“They took me to this secret room they have under the house. A bunch of people
were there wearing masks and robes, family and friends of the family. They kept
going on about purifying our blood and how it was my birthright. They gave me
something funny to drink. I told them I didn’t want it but they did it anyway.”
Sirius jumps to his feet suddenly, pacing the ground deliberately. He points at
Regulus with one accusing finger. “They would have done it to you too in two
years time! I couldn’t let that happen,” he says angrily.
As he absorbs this new information, Regulus does his best to remain level-
headed but the image of his mother and father, always so refined, so proper,
branding Sirius, making his brother scream and bleed, is turning his stomach.
He takes several deep breaths. “Okay,” he says finally, feeling a little
calmer. “Okay. What are we going to do now?”
“Dunno, haven’t gotten that far yet,” Sirius admits, flexing and testing the
fingers on his injured arm.
Regulus rolls his eyes. So typically Sirius. Always leaping into action without
thinking for one minute about where he is going to land. “Wonderful. Really,
Sirius, just splendid. I suppose we’ll just live in the forest for the rest of
our lives?”
Sirius brandishes his injured arm angrily once more. “I suppose you’d like to
go back to this then?”
“I’d like to live to see seventeen at all! Never mind what they’ll do to me
when the time comes,” he shoots back. He’s tired and cranky and though he’s
doing his best to remain calm, panic is bubbling beneath the surface. They are
alone. With nothing and no one but each other, and while Regulus loves his
brother and trusts him, he also has known Sirius to be impulsive and stubborn.
Worrisome qualities at the best of times, it makes him even more nervous that
Sirius does not have a plan.
And the sarcasm is not helping. “Aww, is wittle Reggie scared to be away from
home without his mummy?” Sirius says in a baby voice, pouting his lips.
He wants to make those lips bleed. “When the alternative is being in the care
of your oh so capable hands, yes!”
Sirius looks ready to throw another nasty taunt but, after another second, he
deflates, the anger leaving him in a long, tired sigh. He hunkers down beside
Regulus, and begins speaking in a much more sober tone.
“I’m going to take care of us,” he says, and Regulus is unable to prevent a
derisive scoff from escaping. He feels a warm hand grip his chin, forcing him
to look in to steely grey eyes, so much like his own, full of earnest hope and
determination. “I promise. You don’t have to be scared—”
“I’m not scared,” Regulus insists, knocking the hand away, and he hates how
whiney and petulant he sounds.
Sirius is snorting with amused laughter now. “Liar.”  He places an arm around
his neck bringing their foreheads together. “Don’t you worry your pretty little
head, Reg. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Not mum and dad. Not anyone.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
Sirius presses the button on the intercom next to the number four labeled
“Tonks” and waits. After a minute a girlish voice carries through the speaker.
“Password?” the voice asks, imperiously.
Behind him he hears Regulus chuckle. Sirius adopts a thoughtful expression.
“Password…let’s see…Hogwart?” he asks.
The little voice giggles. “Nope.”
“Hmm, how about Quidditch?”
“Uh huh.”
“Elvendork?”
“Nymphadora!” a woman’s voice says. “What have I’ve told you about answering
when people call?”
“Sorry, mama.”
“Hello? I’m so sorry! Who is this?”
“Only your most favorite—not to mention best-looking—cousin.”
Regulus tugs smartly on his hair and he smiles. He knows Regulus hates it when
people comment how he is the handsomer of the two brothers. He also enjoys
reminding him of that fact at every opportunity.
There is a long silence followed by an amused sigh. “I thought I might be
seeing your sorry arse soon.”
The door buzzes and clicks. Sirius ushers his brother through and gives the
street a hasty once over to make sure no one has seen them. He glances across
the street where his bike is hidden behind a dumpster and breathes a sigh of
relief. If he can’t see it, than neither can anyone else. Since their close
call earlier that morning, Sirius is feeling just a little tense.
At the top of the stairs is a tall woman with auburn hair and a wicked smile.
She arches one delicate brow when her eyes land on Regulus. “Little Reggie too?
This is a surprise.”
Sirius suppresses a snigger as Regulus bristles. “Don’t call me little Reggie.”
“My apologies, young master Black.” She gestures the two boys into the flat.
“Come on, I’ll put a kettle on.”
                                      oOo
“Want some honest advice?” asks Andromeda as she places a steaming cup in front
of Sirius. Sirius nods. “Put him on a bus and send him home,” she says her eyes
fixed on Regulus who is sitting in the next room and grimacing as his hair is
being braided by Nymphadora.
“No,” he says automatically. “No way. I’m not sending him back there! The
things they talked about. The things they expected me to do. You have no idea—”
Andromeda silences him with a finger and rolls up the sleeve of her jumper. On
her forearm is the black ink of a tattoo with the word “Dora” written in
elegant script and a birth date. Beneath the writing Sirius can make out a
faded mark, very similar to his own, long since healed.
“I know,” she says, gravely. “I was in for a year before I got pregnant. They
wanted me to give her up. Said she wasn’t worthy of our blood.” She rolls her
sleeve back over her wrist. “The women have it easier. Not as much is expected
of us except to marry well. They were even willing to overlook my affair with
Ted so long as I “took care” of the problem I’d created.”
Sirius stares at the cup cradled in his hands. He feels a twinge of guilt.
“Sorry…I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m still feeling edgy I guess. We ran
into road block on the way. My parents must have reported us missing.”
“You’re surprised?”
“Of course not. I know it was stupid to bring him, but Regulus…” he trails off
frowning at his brother. Dora is pouting and trying to disentangle black hair
from around her small fingers. “He would do what ever they tell him. Without
question.”
He hates the sympathetic smile she is giving him. He’s always liked Andromeda.
She is funny and clever and has always treated him like an adult. An equal. Not
like her sisters who were snide and called him names until he cried—shameful
though it is to admit. The pity in her eyes is almost too much to bear, makes
him feel childish and stupid, and sets his teeth on edge.
“It’s noble of you to want to protect him, Sirius, but nobility doesn’t feed
him or put a roof over his head,” she says, her blue eyes pleading with him to
be reasonable. “He’s got a few years before they try to initiate him—”
“I said no.”
She changes her tactics faster than blinking. “Your parents aren’t going to
just give him up. They’ll keep looking for you. He’s only going to slow you
down and when they find him—and they will, Sirius—you’ll probably be arrested
for kidnapping. They’ll be willing to let one of you go but not both.”
Hot tea spills over fingers as he slams his cup onto the counter. “So I should
just throw him to the wolves? Let him take the fall for me?”
Their little argument has not gone unnoticed. He can see Regulus watching them
surreptitiously under dark lashes as Dora continues to make a bird’s nest of
his hair.
“Thank you for your honesty, Andy, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m not sending
him back there,” says Sirius with finality.
“Okay,” says Andromeda, holding up her hands in surrender. “It was just a
suggestion. You’ll do what you think is best.”
She places a plate of store-bought biscuits on a tray and pours another cup.
Sirius dabs his burning fingers with a rag as awkward silence continues to
stretch between them.
Andromeda tastes her tea and then says, “You realize you can’t stay here, I
hope.”
Sirius had anticipated this, but he is no less unhappy to hear it. Certainly he
hadn’t expected that he and Regulus could live with her, but he didn’t think
she’d be talking about getting rid of them quite so soon. He pops a biscuit in
his mouth to do something with his hands.
“Don’t worry; we’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“Speaking of hair.” Andromeda hands Sirius the tray and nods towards Regulus.
“Let’s rescue little Reggie before Dora gets the pink ribbons.”
                                      oOo
Later that night, Sirius is lying beside his brother on the pullout bed in
Ted’s office feeling uncharacteristically anxious. He has never been more
exhausted and his body aches from the long trek on his bike. He wants nothing
more than to sleep but thoughts are chasing round in his head making him dizzy
and nervous.
“Stop it.” Regulus’s command carries over his boney shoulder from the other
side of the bed.
Sirius lets loose a sigh. “Stop what?”
“You’re thinking so loudly I can’t get to sleep.” Regulus turns to face him,
hitting him with a silver, penetrating gaze. “Bit late in the game to start
using your head now, isn’t it?”
“Do you want to go home?” Sirius asks abruptly.
 “Sick of me already?” Regulus asks, red lips forming into a pout.
“I just…” he hesitates. He doesn’t want to let Regulus know how terrified he
is. How doubt has begun creeping into his head making him second guess himself.
“If you wanted, that is. I’d take you home. It’s not going to be easy, Reg.
Being on our own.”
Regulus drops the play-acting and chews his lip thoughtfully. “Would you come
home with me?” he asks after a moment, and Sirius hears the plea behind the
words. You won’t leave me alone, will you?
He swallows around the lump in his throat. “No. I couldn’t. Not after this,” he
says as he waves his injured arm distractedly. “But I want to know what you
want.”
Regulus runs idle fingers across his freshly bandaged arm, his brow furrowed in
thought. He watches his brother’s face closely for any hint he is lying. He
knows all of Regulus’s tricks, having taught him a good many of them.
“I know I want to make my own decisions,” Regulus begins tentatively. “If I go
back there, I won’t be able to. I guess you’re stuck with me.”
Sirius takes his brother’s hands in his, a mad grin forming on his face. “We’ll
look out for each other, yeah? Just me and you!”
“Me and you,” Regulus agrees and gives an exasperated huff when Sirius embraces
him tightly and places a kiss atop his head. “My God, you can be such a girl
sometimes.”
There is wetness in his eyes but Regulus does not tease him for it. He kneels
up on the bed, his arms wide and expressive, like they can take on the world
with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and nerve in their hearts.
“We’ll be brilliant, Reg! Just you wait and see.”
His brother’s response is to hit him with a pillow. “Just go to sleep you soppy
git,” Regulus says before pulling the blankets up to his chin and snuggling
comfortably into his pillow once more.
But it is a long time before Sirius can sleep. He watches Regulus as his
features soften to a relaxed sleep and the worry, newly seeded in his gut,
begins gnawing at him once more.
It seemed so easy at first. Taking Regulus and leaving. The fear and adrenaline
from the ritual coupled with his mad desire to run had spurred him into action.
He can’t afford to look back now and regret his choice though. He has to push
forward. Regulus needs him to be strong.
He laces his fingers with his brother’s once more and feels the hand twitch as
Regulus passes into a deeper slumber. His eyelids begin to droop and he
whispers a hushed, “Good night, Reg” before finally succumbing to sleep
himself.
***** Chapter 3 *****
There is a warmth pulsing through Regulus’s body. Thin ribbons of pleasure
unfurling in his abdomen and wrapping around the base of his spine making his
hips jut forward into the mattress. He lets loose a groan when his cock rubs
wetly against the fabric of his boxers. Somewhere between sleeping and waking,
he slips a hand past the elastic waistband until it’s wrapped firmly around
heated skin, chasing the remnants of the dream he was having only moments
before with another soft groan and thrust of his hips.
“Reg?” a laughing voice asks in his ear.
“Yeah,” he says, pushing slowly into the tight circle of his fingers.
Consciousness surfacing and arousal peaking, Regulus blinks his eyes open,
meeting the amused gaze of his brother sitting only a few feet from him on the
bed. “Sirius!”
Before he can even consider stopping, he is coming hotly over his hand and
boxer shorts. Heat fills his cheeks and he buries his face into his pillow with
another groan, this time of embarrassment.
“Bacon?” Sirius asks, holding a plate out to him.
Regulus lifts his head, irritated with his brother. “What the hell are you
doing?”
“Came to wake you for breakfast but you seemed”—he waves a soggy piece of toast
in the air as he gropes for the right word—“preoccupied,” he decides. “Have a
nice dream did you?”
He shoots a glare that could wilt flowers at his brother and extracts himself
from the bed with as much dignity as a boy of fifteen who has just come in his
pants can, deciding to make a shower his first priority
“If you’re heading for the shower, don’t let Andromeda see,” Sirius advises, as
if reading his mind. “I walked in with half a stiffy and she nearly chucked the
frying pan at my head.”
Regulus swipes a piece of bacon from Sirius’s plate. “You probably shouldn’t
have called her a pervert for ogling your bits.”
Sirius smirks but adopts a mightier-than-thou expression. “Actually, I merely
said that young men such as ourselves could not help it and she ought to be
grateful for a chance to lay eyes on such a fine specimen of man.”
“Yes,” Regulus agrees, licking grease from his fingers, “much better that.”
“Actually it might have been because Dora kept asking me what was wrong with my
vagina,” Sirius muses around a mouthful of toast. He gives Regulus another
broad smile. “Still, I’d very much like to hear you explain what’s wrong with
yours in that state.”
 Regulus rolls his eyes and gathers his clothes, heading for the door and away
from his brother’s infuriating smile.
                                      oOo
Two days with Andromeda and her family and Regulus is beginning to feel
restless. Sirius spends a lot of time deep in thought and Andromeda continues
to give him suspicious looks whenever she catches his eye.
Andromeda, he decides, does not trust him.
He is not too fussed. He doesn’t trust her either. Though Andromeda left the
family years ago full of self-righteous indignation, Regulus knows her real
family comes first. Bloody hypocrite.
He overhears a conversation between her and Sirius the second morning after
they arrive.
“Reggie, why are we—”
“Dora! Shhh!” Regulus places a finger to his lips. “You must be quiet if you
want to play spies with me.”
Dora nods and mimes zipping her lips closed and throwing the key over her
shoulder.
“Good girl.”
Regulus turns his ear back to the conversation taking place in the next room.
“I guess he thought you’d do a runner like me.”
“He guessed right.”
“Pity. I was hoping to use that money for Dora’s schooling.”
“Alphard didn’t put an account aside for Reg I suppose?”
Silence.
“Fuck.”
“I called in a favor for you. Here.”
“What kind of name is Dung?”
Dora giggles, earning a sharp glare from Regulus, and she schools her features
into a solemn expression once more
“Mundungus Fletcher. He’s a bit of a lowlife but he can get you things you’ll
need.”
Sirius and Andromeda disappear for the whole afternoon after that conversation,
Regulus still fuming over the argument about being left behind. Dora tries to
coerce him into playing with her dolls and Regulus only just manages to keep a
civil tongue in his head when he tells her to go away, if only because crying
children annoy him to no end, but mostly because Ted is around and has rather
large biceps.
When Sirius returns, a thin package tucked under his arm, Regulus practically
drags him back into Ted’s office and begins demanding answers. Sirius, for
once, does not put up any resistance. Merely flops onto the pullout and throws
the package to Regulus. Regulus wastes no time tearing it open.
“Stubby Boardman?” Regulus says with a laugh as he reads the details on the
fake ID card now bearing his brother’s new identity. “What sort of name is
Stubby?”
Sirius digs through the package for a moment and holds another card out to him.
“Shut it, Reginald.”
Regulus frowns but is not too bothered by the name change. “At least Reginald
is a normal sounding name. Honestly, Stubby. What sort of parents would name
their child Stubby?”
Sirius gives him a meaningful look. Right. He gestures to the remaining bits of
paper in the file. “What’s the rest of this?”
“Basic runaway package apparently. Everything we’ll need to lead our new lives.
Oh, I’m your official guardian now by the way. Mum and dad died tragically just
after my eighteenth birthday six months ago and I’ve been raising you ever
since.”
“Did this cost much?”
“Don’t worry about it, Reg.”
But he is curious. “How much money did Alphard leave you?” Surprise colors
Sirius face and it is Regulus’s turn to give him the look.
Rolling his eyes, Sirius says, “Not much, honestly. Enough to get us on our
feet. He left me a house too.”
“Really?”
“Yep,” Sirius says, scrutinizing the face only slightly resembling his own on
the plastic card. “Apparently he kept a place for his mistress but she left him
when she found out she wasn’t getting any of his money.”
The first twinge of excitement fizzles low in Regulus’s belly. They have a
place to stay. Maybe this really was going to work. “Well, where is it?” he
asks impatiently when Sirius lapses into thoughtful silence.
Sirius bites the card like a coin collector inspecting a piece of bullion and
then tosses it back on the bed beside the open package. “East London.”
Regulus makes a face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Don’t be such a brat. It’s a place to stay and it won’t cost us anything
except utilities.”
“But, Sirius—”
The sound of the intercom buzzing in the next room cuts him off.  He hears the
door down the hall fly open and then Dora’s breathy voice asking “Password.”
“Nymphadora!”
“Am I speaking with Mrs. Andromeda Tonks?” a deep voice asks. Sirius places a
finger to his lips and moves to crack the door open a bit more so they can
better hear.
“Yes.”
“Ma’am I am Inspector Kingsley Shacklebolt. My partner and I would like a few
moments of your time.”
“Fuck,” Sirius swears and shoots Regulus a nervous look before throwing the
door open. Regulus follows quickly behind him. Andromeda is standing beside the
intercom, holding her hand over Dora’s mouth who is struggling to remove her
mother’s fingers.
“I’m sorry, what’s this about?” she asks, much more calmly than Regulus feels.
“Ma’am I’d prefer not to have this conversation over the intercom. There is a
motorbike parked across the street belonging to a missing teenager. We’d just
like to ask you a few questions.”
***** Chapter 4 *****
It is only through Ted’s quick thinking and Andromeda’s superb lying ability
that they are not discovered. Grabbing them both by the scruff, Ted hauls
Sirius and Regulus into the bathroom and shoves them behind the shower curtain.
He does not need to tell them to keep quiet.
Sirius hears the sound of the door opening and muffled conversation over the
pounding in his ears. Regulus’s hand finds his and he squeezes it tightly,
willing his nerves to remain calm.
The man from the intercom, Shacklebolt, has a deep voice that carries through
the door. “Thank you for inviting us into your home, Mrs. Tonks. This is my
partner Dawlish.”
“Of course, Inspector. Please sit. Would either of you like some tea?”
Pleases and thank yous are exchanged. Across the hall, they hear Ted talking to
Nymphadora in a low, indistinguishable voice. He hopes one of them thought to
hide their packs.
Tea is served and Shacklebolt wastes no time getting to the point of their
visit. “Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, we are here because two boys were reported missing
by their parents three days ago. Sirius and Regulus Black. Your cousins, Mrs.
Tonks.”
“Former cousins,” Andromeda clarifies. “I left the family years ago and was
disinherited.”
“Then can you please explain why Sirius Black’s motorbike is parked across the
street from your flat?”
“He and Regulus were here.”
“What the fuck is she doing?” Regulus hisses low, gripping Sirius’s hand
painfully.
“Shut up,” Sirius whispers back.
“She’s going to give us away—”
Sirius clamps his free and across Regulus’s mouth and leans close. “You’ll give
us away if you don’t shut up.”
Regulus glares but he is silent when Sirius removes his hand.
“You said they were here. You mean they aren’t any more.”
“That is correct. They showed up yesterday morning. I fed them, I gave them
money for the train, and I told them to go home. Whether or not they actually
did, I cannot tell you. Though I suppose you would not be here if they had.”
“Did you know their parents had reported them missing, ma’am?” a third voice
asks.
“No. I assumed they would, of course, but I wasn’t aware.”
“Didn’t it strike you as odd that two young members of your estranged family
showed up out of the blue?”
“It didn’t actually.”
“And why is that?”
“Gentlemen, there is a reason I left my family and all the money and privilege
that came with them and those two boys were smart enough to get out before it
was too late. I can’t say I blame them.”
“What do you mean?”
There was silence for a long moment. Sirius imagines Andromeda sipping her tea
thoughtfully, calculating blue eyes surveying the two inspectors over the rim
of her cup.
Finally she says, “The Black’s believe in blood purity.”
“I’m sorry…blood purity?”
Andromeda gives a throaty laugh. “Yes. They pride themselves on it actually.
Toujours Pur.”
Funny how Sirius never thought to question the phrase his entire life. He’d
only read it a million times on the tapestry in the drawing room as he and
Regulus memorized the names of their ancestors over the watchful eye of their
mother. Heard it said in triumph over raised glasses at dinner parties. His
stomach turns as he recalls the words being chanted like a spell—familiar faces
flashing at him beneath dark hoods as he is held and marked.
A soft hiss from Regulus draws his attention to their clasped hands; his
fingernails are digging into Regulus’s skin. He lets go, wincing at the bright
red crescents etched into his brother’s skin. He offers an apologetic grin that
feels more like a grimace and takes a deep, but quite, breath.
“It’s…difficult to explain,” Andromeda continues. “The Blacks are descended
from nobility. Our—their lineage can be traced far back to various noble men
and women. It is something they take great pride in, keeping the bloodlines
pure with good breeding.”
“A bit of an archaic idea, but why should that make your cousins leave home?”
“It’s not just a matter of making a good match with other proper “pureblooded”
families. You might think of it a cult or a secret society. Sirius was the
first male born in this generation. I think his parents expected a lot of him.
He was always spoiled rotten as child, always given everything, even by my
parents who’d only had girls. He was favored.”
Regulus’s impatient sigh echoes off the tiled walls of the bath. They both know
everything Andromeda is saying is true and Sirius almost feels guilty until he
remembers there is an angry wound still healing on his arm.
“The males are initiated into the Inner Circle at a young age. There are
rituals…some of them very unpleasant.”
Nausea sweeps through Sirius’s stomach making his head spin. His father’s voice
is whispering from nowhere. Things like “Your birthright” and “blood of the
enemy” echo in his ears. Sweat begins to break out on his brow.
The image of a young woman naked and weeping at his feet surfaces. A gift for
the young prince. Her virginity will make him strong. Sirius fails to see the
logic in this; two girls from his school have “lost it” to Sirius Black and
he’s never felt anything but humiliated that it took so long because he
couldn’t stay hard long enough to get off.
“Please! I want to go home! I want my mother!” she cries, imploring Sirius with
crystal blue eyes. Her cheeks are red and stained with tears, dark blond hair
clinging to her face where it is wet, bare chest heaving with the force of her
sobs.
Sirius thinks he has never been less aroused in his life. “I…I’m not…Father, I
can’t.”
The others laugh, catching his meaning, and Sirius is embarrassed but he is
spared for now. His father is not angry. Only tells him to go rest. They will
try again later. But later does not come because he and Regulus are speeding
off into the night mere hours afterwards. He wonders what became of the girl
and decides he does not want to know.
Regulus is eyeing him curiously and he shakes his head, not even feigning a
smile this time. Concern flashes through Regulus’s eyes but Shacklebolt is
speaking again and the moment passes.
“Mrs. Tonks, this is all very interesting but you’ve yet to tell my why Sirius
left his motorbike here? Someone might think they’re actually still here and
you are concealing them.”
“The last thing I want, Inspector, is that family haunting me after so many
years. The only reason they leave me alone is because I’m an embarrassment to
them. But if they think for one second I’m harboring their coveted prince then
my family is at risk. I left to save the life of my daughter and to protect the
man I love. Believe me, if they were here I would hand them over.”
“Then you won’t mind letting us search through your home.”
                                      oOo
Sirius is amazed that the mad beating of his heart cannot be heard as the men
enter each room. The door to the bath clicks open and the bottom drops out of
Sirius’s stomach. The shadow of a hand reaches for the curtain. He reaches for
Regulus’s hand again, squeezing tight, and tries to look reassuring when
terrified grey eyes meet his.
This is it, he thinks. Sirius is sure they’re going to be discovered when a
high pitched voice asks: “How come you’ve got no hair?”
The hand pulls back with a deep laugh. “You must be Nyphadora.”
“Uh huh! Mummy says you’re looking for Siri and Reggie.”
“I am.”
“When you find them, will you tell them I miss them?” the voice pouts.
The voices grow muffled again as the door closes behind them. “Of course I
will.”
After twenty of the most tense minutes Sirius has lived in his entire life, the
two men leave, dispensing many more thank yous. No one comes to collect them or
tells them it is okay to come out. But they do any way.
Ted is in the kitchen cleaning up the tea service, his jaw tight as he gently
wipes the delicate porcelain and Andy is holding Nyphadora tightly and kissing
her face repeatedly amidst tiny cries of “I did good, didn’t I, Mummy?”
Sirius and Regulus seclude themselves in Ted’s office once more.
“We should leave,” Regulus says quietly.
Sirius nods.
                                      oOo
They stay only for one more day. Sirius does not watch but can hear the truck
towing his bike away from across the street late in the evening. He doesn’t
care very much. It was something he’d wanted for as long as he could remember,
and he’d been impressed with his parents when it was presented to him as a
gift, but now it was only a reminder that he’d been bought.
His whole life. Praises and gifts bought his allegiance to his mother and
father. Never had he questioned it. He was the eldest son. Of course he should
be spoilt.
When they are certain Shaklebolt and Dawlish are no longer watching the flat,
Ted drives them to the train station. He leaves the two brothers in the car
while he purchases their tickets and hands Sirius a wad of cash.
“I’m sorry we can’t do more for you.”
“You’ve done enough already. Really.”
Ted nods. “Take care,” he says before he speeds off.
No one at the station pays them much mind as their tickets are taken and they
board the train but it is not until they are moving—landscape flying by in a
dizzy blur—that Sirius can breathe freely.
Silence stretches between them. They haven’t spoken much since their recent
brush with authority. Sirius thinks he should ask Regulus again if he wants to
go home, but he can’t bring himself to do so. He is too afraid Regulus will say
yes. Somehow it had not dawned on Sirius just how alone they were. If Regulus
leaves he’ll be totally and completely alone. The thought is unbearable.
So instead he asks, “Excited to see our new home?”
The look he receives for his efforts is almost comical. Regulus scoffs turns
back to the window. “Yes. I always pictured living in a nice cozy home in the
slums.”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” say Sirius with a grin, trying to maintain a voice
of optimism.
Regulus makes a dubious noise as he retrieves a sweater from his pack. He balls
it up and places it behind his head and closes his eyes for the rest of the
trip.
It ends up not being nearly as bad as he or Regulus feared. The area is not
exactly a slum though it is close enough to make any rational person the
tiniest bit nervous. It is certainly far below the standards they were
accustomed to in the fine Wiltshire manor house they came from. There is
graffiti on all of the signposts and sides of the buildings. The people move
quickly and don’t make eye contact as they pass and one group of young men with
their hoods up laugh and watch them as they walk the entire length of the
street.
“Which number is it?” Regulus asks quietly.
“Number twelve.”
They stop in front of a row of grimy town houses and Sirius fishes the key
Andromeda gave him from his pocket. He fits the key in the lock and the door
opens with a grudging squeal. It is dark inside, dust swirls in small eddies
through the dim light filtering through the dirty windows, and there is a musty
smell hanging in the air.
Sirius hits a nearby switch and sends a small blessing of thanks to Andromeda
for calling in the power that morning when the fixture overhead flickers to
life. But light, it turns out, does not improve the view. Cobwebs hang from the
light fixtures and frames and the wallpaper is peeling from the walls. It is
neat and filled with modest furniture but it is dark and incredibly filthy.
“Well…” Sirius says in what he hopes is a bracing manner, “could be worse.”
Regulus runs a hand across the dusty banister to the upper landing. His hand
knocks the carved knob at the end and it falls to the ground with a clatter.
“Yes,” Regulus agrees in a monotone, stooping and replacing the wooden end.
“Home sweet home.”
                                      oOo
Sirius watches as Regulus bites into a greasy chip and tries not to laugh at
the delighted little noises he makes.
They’d spent most of the afternoon clearing out the master bedroom and bath and
decided on venturing out for takeaway before it became dark. The house was in
shockingly good condition considering it had been empty for several years.
Other than extraordinary amounts of dust and a rather fierce infestation of
spiders, it was livable. The furniture is actually quite good, if a bit musty,
and the house did not appear to have been vandalized, which made both brothers
breathe a little easier.
Regulus hums quietly around another chip and Sirius smiles. Their parents
rarely let them eat anything so terribly bad for them. “You’ll pollute your
body with that rubbish,” their mother would say. Sirius has doubts he’ll ever
be able to look back on seemingly innocent moments of his life and not cringe
at their deeper meaning.
He dumps the rest of his chips onto Regulus’s plate with a defiant grin. As far
as he is concerned, Regulus can have whatever he wants. Perhaps he’ll take up
smoking again?
Regulus raises a brow but does not object. “Are you trying to fatten me up so
you can eat me when we’re destitute?”
“You forget we already are. And you are rather scrawny.”
“Hmph,” Regulus pokes Sirius in the soft part of his stomach. “You’re one to
talk. Really putting the pounds away lately, aren’t you? You’re like a pregnant
cow.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Sirius says, and drops his empty plate to the floor. He reaches
back over his shoulders, pulling his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion,
and tosses it at Regulus. He gives an exaggerated flex, displaying toned chest
and arm muscles earned from hours of rugby practice. “Pregnant cow my arse. I’m
sexy!”
Pink flashes across Regulus’s cheeks but he rolls his eyes and throws the shirt
back. “Yes, and vainer than a peacock. Quit preening you tosser. I’m loosing my
appetite.”
When they’re laughing and teasing each other like this, it is easy to forget
how hopeless their situation feels. The ever present somberness bleeds through
the dying laughter until there is stark silence once more.
“So what now?” Regulus asks and holds a piece of fried potato in front of his
eyes as if it holds the answer.
The fact that Sirius has no clue how to answer this question is not nearly as
terrifying as it might have been a few days ago. They have a place to stay
after all. No one knows where they are except Andromeda and Ted. They are the
very definition of free.
He offers a carefree grin; the sort that always graced his features with
astonishing ease slips past his uncertainty.
“Whatever we want,” he says as he picks his shirt of from the floor and knocks
one brave spider trying to burrow itself in the folds to the floor.
Surprisingly, Regulus smiles back, the first real smile Sirius has seen in ages
from his rather somber younger brother. His features brighten, turning the dark
shadows of his usual frown and disdainful sneer into something entirely lovely.
Sirius suspects Regulus might get nearly as many compliments and phone numbers
as himself if he smiled like that more often.
He leans across the sagging sofa they are occupying and places a kiss on
Regulus’s forehead, deciding in that very moment, no matter what happens, that
he will ensure Regulus smiles just like that every day.
***** Chapter 5 *****
The phone picks up after the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“James?”
“BLOODY HELL! SIRIUS?”
Sirius winces at the loud cry crackling with static interference. “Yeah, it’s
me.”
“Where the fucking hell are you? Do you know how crazy it’s been around here?”
A sigh escapes him before he can help it. He hadn’t really meant to call James.
He’d left the house long enough to get some groceries and cleaning supplies
(Christ, would the house ever be clean?) and saw the grimy telephone stall
outside the market. General uncleanliness be damned, Sirius wanted to hear his
best friend’s voice. Perhaps not quite so shrill, but what could he do?
“I imagine it’s absolute bedlam.”
There is the sound of clicking and muffled voices. A girl’s voice comes on the
line next. “Sirius, are you okay?”
He laughs. “I’m fine, Lily.”
God their voices are like an elixir. The last two weeks have been utter hell
and hearing two of his favorite people in the whole world is like a healing
balm on his wounds—some of them not quite so metaphorical.
“Where are you?” James asks.
“I’d rather not say…”
“Sirius, what happened? You and your brother just disappeared one night. People
thought you’d been…”
Sirius can imagine what people thought might have happened. Kidnapping? Sudden
inexplicable illness? He doubted any of them came close to the truth.
“Reg and I are okay.”
Or as okay as they can be at any rate, though he does not tell his friends
that. The area in which they live had been laid claim to by some rather boorish
thugs. Sirius found himself on the business end of their fists twice already
for his smart mouth. He knows he probably shouldn’t rise to the challenge when
he sees them, but the taunts they shout whenever he passes makes his blood
boil.
Regulus was furious with him for getting into fights. The last thing they
needed was to be on the bad side of the local gang. Luckily, Sirius had been
rescued by two rather burly red-heads called Gideon and Fabian during his
second encounter with his new neighbors.
“Keep your nose out, yeah?” one of the twins said after they’d chased off the
thugs. “Can’t be looking out for posh little bastards all the time.”
“Sirius, are you still there?”  
“Look…I’m okay. I just…I dunno, I wanted to say hi. I’ve only had Reg for
company for the last few weeks. It’s nice to talk to someone sane for a
change,” he jokes.
James does not laugh. “Why did you run away?”
Brilliant boy that James Potter. Sirius rubs his eyes, deciding this was a very
bad idea. “I can’t really talk about it right now. I’ll try to call again
later.”
“Wait! Sirius!”
But he is already hanging up the receiver. What good was it? Calling James. A
voice annoyingly like Regulus’s whispers ‘too dangerous’ in his ear, and for
once he agrees. He’d not only be putting himself and Regulus at risk. If James
knew where they were…if his parents found out they were keeping in contact.
The image of his father holding a chalice to his lips swims before his eyes.
“Blood of the enemy.”
No, he cannot call James again. It breaks his heart a little to make that
resolution but he knows it is for the best. He sighs deeply and adjusts the
paper sack in his arms before exiting the phone booth and heading home.
                                      oOo
Regulus is curled up on in an armchair, open book resting on his knees, when
Sirius steps inside. His eyes flicker up for only a moment before they’re back
on his book. “No bloody nose today, I see.”
“Those blokes seemed to have learned their lesson,” he says lightly, ignoring
the fact that he was not the one who’d done the teaching.
Regulus flips a page. “They’d leave you alone if you would just keep your mouth
shut.”
Sirius does not want to start another argument about this so he changes the
subject. “What are you reading?”
Eyes still on the book, Regulus holds it up long enough for Sirius to read the
title.
“Oliver Twist?” Sirius laughs.
“Seemed fitting.”
They’d discovered a rather well stocked study their second day. Regulus had at
least been pleased to find a room full of books and declared the house was “not
entirely hopeless.”
Sirius takes his cargo into the kitchen and begins unloading the few food items
he’s purchased.
It is a little amazing, he thinks, as he is packing away eggs and milk into the
now clean refrigerator, that the only thing James is probably worrying about
right now is footie and if Evans will dump him after their next row when he
himself is worrying about how he will keep Regulus fed and clothed.
That’s not true actually. James is worried about him. The concern in his voice
had been unmistakable. Maybe after things have settled down a bit more he can
try to contact James again. Maybe even invite him over for tea and biscuits.
For now, however, he tucks those hopeful musings away for later and turns his
thoughts back to the more pressing matter of what the hell to do next. They
have money enough to last them for a while, but not forever. Not only that but
he’s starting to feel a little stir-crazy and Regulus has been too absorbed in
reading lately.
They can’t keep on like this. The point of leaving had been so they could live
life on their own terms. Actually it had been to escape the bat-shit craziness
that his parents were involved in, he reasons with himself and gives his head a
little shake. He’s been spending far too much time stuck in his own head. He
needs to be doing something. That has always been his way.
The three letter word he hesitates to speak out loud for fear of making it real
could not be ignored any longer. Job. He most definitely needs to get a job.
He’s never had a job before. He has no earthly idea how one even goes about
procuring a job. His parents handed him everything before and he was hardly fit
for cleaning a dusty house let alone manual labor. He supposes he might have
pursued some sort of career after university. Until recently he’d not thought
farther into the future than the seaside trip after A-levels the next summer.
Fuck. He really ought to think about getting Regulus back in school. He knows
Regulus is smart. He could pass his exams, get into a good school. Maybe once
Regulus is sorted he can…what?  
“Fuck me,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“Not until you’ve bought me dinner at least,” Regulus says from his left. There
is a playful smile on his lips as he places his book on the kitchen table.
“Honestly, Sirius, don’t you know how to treat a bloke?”
He smiles. “Just dinner? Bit easy, aren’t you?”
“I’m a tart for a tart,” Regulus says, eyes sparkling with humor.
Sirius barks out a laugh. Regulus can be so silly sometimes. He prefers this
funny, playful Regulus to the quiet, moody one and much more than the petulant,
argumentative one. Teenagers, he thinks with a shake of his head.
“Well, my little strumpet, what shall we have?”
“Something that doesn’t make me want to vomit, if you please.”
“Hey my soup wasn’t so bad.”
“I think it grew legs and scampered off half way through eating it.”
Sirius scratches chef of his mental list of future career pursuits.
“You could always try cooking. I know you used to hang around the kitchen
staff…before.”
Before. It’s funny how they don’t talk about things except in vague allusions.
Sirius isn’t sure if they’re just trying to forget. He knows talk of their old
home has the potential to send Regulus into a fit of sullenness; he suspects
Regulus is actually a bit homesick and does his best to keep off such touchy
subjects.
“I didn’t actually cook, you know…but I could give it a go I suppose.”
                                      oOo
Regulus ends up making something approaching fantastic with nothing more than a
bit of pasta and the left over vegetables from Sirius’s failed soup experiment.
They’re sharing a quiet dinner, the clock on the wall ticking loudly towards
two o’clock when it’s really just past eight, neither of them having bothered
to fix it. For some reason, it just seems easier to add six hours to whatever
it’s currently displaying.
“I’ve been thinking,” Sirius begins.
“God help us.”
“Ha bloody ha. I’ve been thinking, and you should go back to school.”
Regulus is quiet for a long minute. The ticks passing steadily on. “I thought
we could do whatever we want? Who says I want to go back to school?”
This throws Sirius off just a bit. He hadn’t considered that Regulus might not
want to. He’d always done well in school. They both had. Regulus read like it
was going out of style and enjoyed meaningful conversations about art and
politics. Sirius privately thinks this is why Regulus had so few friends
before. He thinks, a bit shamefully, he probably wouldn’t have befriended
Regulus had they not been brothers.
“Well what do you want to do? Sit around here all day?”
“No, but…”
“You’ll need to pass your exams to get into university, you know.”
“University? Are you planning my whole future for me now?”
“Of course not. I’m only thinking of what’s best.”
“And did you stop to think I might like a say in this?” It sounds frustratingly
like the whiney ‘you’re not the boss of me’ Regulus used to shout when they
played as children.
It had been an innocent enough suggestion. Christ, his heart was in the right
place, wasn’t it? He sighs and resists the urge to throw the rest of his pasta
at Regulus’s face. “Sorry. I guess I just assumed.”
They’re quiet again for some time, the ticking filling the silence which has
grown tense. Eventually Sirius asks, “So what do you want to do?”
Regulus considers this question as he chews slowly. He takes a sip of water and
then says, “I think I should like to go back to school.”
The beginnings of a headache twinge behind Sirius’s eyes.
                                      oOo
The house feels, if possible, even more empty without Regulus around. Odd
considering he usually sits in one place for hours on end reading, but his
absence is felt nonetheless. The combination of nothing-to-do and the absolute
silence makes him feel restless.
The hunt for a stellar new job that pays fabulous sums of money for little to
no effort has, unsurprisingly, not been going well. His lack of experience,
despite his overwhelming intelligence, does not serve him well unfortunately.
Time and time again he is turned out. So he comes home every day feeling rather
dejected and waits for Regulus to get back and tell him about his day at
Godric’s School.
Getting Regulus in had been almost too easy, but Sirius is an excellent liar
when the occasion calls for it. He’d spun his tale about their parents dying
tragically some months ago, how he is struggling with the burden of caring for
his younger brother. They’d lied and said they’d been educated at home by their
parents and with their forged documents it was enough to secure Regulus a spot
in a classroom.
He’d been certain the administrators would see right through their lie once or
twice; the Headmistress in particular was sharp as a tack, but compassionate to
the two “parentless” boys.
“Mr. Boardman,” she’d said towards the end of their meeting, eyes calculating
behind horn-rimmed specs. “I expect things have been difficult for you, but we
will make sure your brother has a smooth transition.”
Sirius nods, sits straight in his chair like the good little adult he is
pretending to be and accepts her pity graciously.
“Only, I’m concerned that he will be very happy here. Your brother is
intelligent, Mr. Boardman, that much is clear from his tests. But, home
educated students often struggle when thrust into the classroom with others so
abruptly.”
Sirius assures her he will help in any way he can, that he only wants what’s
best for his brother, and it’s enough.
Godric’s is really not half bad. The staff are determined to educate their
students come hell or high water. From what he hears from his brother, it is
not entirely awful. A far cry from the private institution they’d attended
before, but not a complete wash.
Sirius sighs. He picks up Oliver Twist and fails to read a word of the poor
orphan’s tale as he waits for the click of Regulus’s key in the door. The sound
of voices arguing and stomping up the stoop rouses him from the light dozing
he’s slipped into as he waits.
“C’mon, almost there...”
The door handle rattles, there is more talking and then Sirius hears the key
click and the door swings open.
Sirius is on his feet in an instant. The sight that greets him sends all
rational thought from his head.
“What the fuck happened?”
Purple bruises have blossomed on Regulus’s cheek, making the pale blue-grey of
his eyes stand out in eerie contrast. His lip is swollen and bloody, smearing
red across his chin and dripping onto his collared shirt. The red-haired twins
from the other day are holding Regulus up from under his arms.
Regulus’s head falls against his chest once or twice, as if holding it up is
costing him the utmost effort.
“What happened?” he asks again, his voice dangerously quiet.
They deposit Regulus onto the sagging sofa, their faces grim.
“It’s those fucking kids,” one says. “Think they have the run this place.”
“Don’t worry,” the other assures, "little wildcat here gave back as good as he
got. But he was outnumbered.”
Sirius sees red.
“Hey! Where’re you going?”
“Sirius, don’t!”
But he is flying through the door before anyone can stop him, feet pounding on
the street as blood pounds in his ears. Those bastards. Those fucking bastards.
It doesn’t take long for Sirius to find them, huddled against a chain-link
fence. Three of them. One is sporting a bloodied lip and is dabbing it with the
cuff of his sleeve; another has several long gashes on his cheek. They hardly
register his presence—“Oi, look who’s back for more”—before his fists are
flying.
Bones crunch sickeningly against his knuckles as they collide with the
speaker’s jaw, his legs flying into the air as he is knocked to the ground with
the force of the blow. A hand descends on his fist as he rears back to throw
another punch and twists it hard. Sirius cries out as pain flairs through his
wrist and he kicks hard at the boy, connecting with his stomach.
“F-fuck!” The boy doubles over but righteous anger and adrenaline are still
coursing through Sirius at lightning speed and he is pummeling blows without
mercy or care for his own wellbeing. He ducks a punch that lands hard on his
shoulder instead and swings up, breaking the boy’s nose with a horrible,
muffled snap.
The third boy pushes Sirius away from his comrade. “Lay off already! You broke
his fucking nose!”
Before he can even start on this boy, large, freckled arms wrap around his
middle pulling him away from the raggedy group of thugs who are now looking
much worse for the wear. “Christ, calm down you maniac!”
Sirius kicks savagely at his captor. “Let me go!” he growls.
The red-haired twin not holding him nods and he is released. Identical blue
eyes watch him warily, but Sirius is done. Absently, he wipes his mouth with
the back of his hand, smearing sticky blood across his cheek. He isn’t sure who
it belongs to. His hands feel numb.
He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You touch my brother again,” he warns, voice
trembling with anger, “and I will kill you.”
                                      oOo
Regulus dabs ointment on Sirius’s knuckles, tutting softly at the broken skin.
He watches his brother’s face for any sign of pain but Sirius does not flinch.
Bloody noble idiot.
He wraps a bandage around Sirius’s hands and catches a glimpse of the skin on
the inside of his arm, nearly fully healed and pink with newly grown skin. He
lets his fingers linger a little too long on the inside of Sirius’s wrist.
Stupid, stupid noble idiot.
He opens his mouth, perhaps to tell Sirius this. That he is an idiot and far
too righteous for his own good but the words catch on his tongue. He really
ought to be furious at Sirius for behaving so recklessly, but he won’t pretend
he wasn’t terrified when the three boys jumped him after he’d disembarked the
bus that afternoon.
Instead he secures the bandage and whispers, “There. All better.”
Sirius nods, flexing his fingers around the bandage. He has not spoken much
since the Prewetts dropped him off except to say those “fucking bastards” would
not be bothering them any more.
It is only twelve by the clock in the kitchen. Early still, but he thinks it is
best they call it a night.
They’ve cleared out most of the house at this point. Only a few rooms they’ll
probably never use remain untouched but there are two perfectly serviceable
bedrooms and a bathroom at least. They wash up briefly in the sink and climb
into the large, king-sized bed of the master bedroom.
They fall asleep, Sirius’s arms wrapped firmly around his chest, bandaged hands
clutching him tightly. Regulus does not question this. Sirius seems to need the
contact and a part of him quite enjoys the closeness. The feeling of being
needed. He is taking as much comfort as he is giving. It’s a fair trade.
Because it’s not so lonely when Sirius touches him like this.
And he is lonely. Desperately so.
He’s made no friends at his new school, not the he ever had many to begin with,
and even if he was interested in the other students in his year, they’re rather
droll and don’t quite set his blood aflame the way Sirius does when they fight
or joke together.
He doesn’t tell Sirius this, of course. Sirius would feel guilty. Would insist
taking Regulus with him was a mistake. Regulus is terrified Sirius will send
him back to their mother and father. Not because he is afraid of his parents—he
is of course, but he also misses them more than he’s willing to admit— but
because the idea of never seeing his brother again makes his stomach ache.
No. Sirius is his best friend and it would kill Regulus to lose him. So he
remains silent.
He sighs and leans back into his brother’s broad chest feeling safe. He hears
an incomprehensible mumbling against his neck that might be his name but he is
not sure. His fingers find the puckered scars on Sirius’s inner arm. He traces
the pattern absentmindedly as he drifts off to sleep, content with the
knowledge that Sirius will do absolutely anything for him should the need
arise.
It’s not really manipulating Sirius. Really.
 
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     non-con warning goes here
"Sirius Orion Black."
The voice echoes off the stone walls. His head spins as he turns to look at his
father. What had been in that drink? What is he even doing here?
Almost as if he'd asked the question aloud, a voice responds.
"You are here, my son, to claim your birthright. To celebrate the continuation
of our line. Our heritage."
The words make no sense in his head. He catches a flash of silver. A hooded
figure draws a dagger. Someone is screaming. Blood from the knife drips into a
chalice and his father takes a drink. Sirius feels his stomach roll in protest
as the cup is placed to his lips.
"I don't—" but the heady liquid is forced past his lips and he swallows
automatically.
His father is talking again. Words like "honor" and "family" and "loyalty"
swirl over his head. He wants to leave. He is really not feeling very good.
"Do you accept this honor, Sirius?"
His eyes fall on the bloodied dagger.
"Yes, of course…" he babbles. Anything to get out of here.
Someone takes him by the shoulders and lowers him into an armed chair. His
wrists are bound. Panic begins filling his lungs.
"What-?"
"Shhhh." A hand cards through his hair, long fingernails scraping gently across
his scalp in a soothing gesture. The smell of his mother's perfume fills his
nostrils. "We're so proud, Sirius. It's almost over."
A piece of bundled cloth is placed between his teeth. From the fireplace, he
sees someone pulling a poker, glowing red hot. His arm is exposed.
"No!"
He struggles. He screams. Pleads for them to stop. He's changed his mind. He
doesn't accept. Does not want this, whatever it is. But the cloth muffles his
cries and the brand is placed to his arm and things turn black .
"Sirius!"
He jerks violently awake, drenched in sweat, and breathing heavily. Regulus's
face swims in front of his eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he pants, still coming down from the dream. "Yeah, I'm okay."
Regulus's eyes scan his face, frowning. "Fabian stopped by this morning. Their
sister is having a baby. He wanted you to open the shop."
Sirius nods. Watches Regulus adjust the bag on his shoulder and leave. The
front door opens and closes and he buries his face in his pillow.
He's sick of these dreams. It's been three months since that fateful January
night and suddenly he's begun having regular nightmares. It's almost
embarrassing when Regulus has to shake him awake and tell him to snap out of
it; more than once he's woken up sobbing in Regulus's arms.
Rubbing his eyes and stuffing his feet into slippers, he shuffles to the
shower. Ten minutes later he's feeling marginally better. He is not covered in
sweat anyway, even if he is still hearing chanting in his ears.
He eats the cold toast and drinks the cold tea Regulus left for him without
really tasting. He doesn't know what these dreams mean. He'd been sure he put
the whole experience behind him and moved on. He eyes the empty bottles of beer
on the counter a little guiltily. Then again, maybe not.
He tries to push all thoughts of the dreams away and retrieves his bicycle from
the hall closet, but even the short bike ride to the Prewetts' garage isn't
enough to clear his head.
Since their mutual punishing of the thugs in their neighborhood, Sirius had
struck up friendship with the two brothers. They were quite a bit older
(twenty-three), great for a laugh, and ran an auto repair shop.
Sirius wasn't sure if it was pity or what, but they'd offered Sirius a few
shifts a week at the shop doing basic tune-ups. It suited him perfectly
actually. He wasn't sure why he'd not thought of it sooner. He'd always enjoyed
taking things apart and putting them back together. Had done so all his life.
As a child, his toys (and sometimes Regulus's too) and, when he was older, the
beaten up motorbike he kept at the Potters'. He wondered if James would keep it
up.
Rounding the corner, he finds a thin, brown-haired young man peering into the
dark windows of the shop. Fucking brilliant. He's only a little late.
"Sorry," he shouts and pedals just past the young man who spins on his heel at
his call. He quickly chains his bike and fishes the key from his pocket.
"The proprietors are a bit busy this morning," he says as he unlocks the door
and gestures to the young man who follows him in. He hits the switch and the
florescent lights overhead flicker grudgingly to life.
"Are you the Ford?"
"Excuse me?"
"Er—sorry." He isn't really used to dealing with the customers. "Um…how can I
help you?"
The man, more boy than man still, really, pulls a slip of paper from his coat.
"I'm here to pick up."
Sirius scans the order quickly. Lupin. 1998 Ford—he huffs. Had he not
asked?—Beige. Faulty converter. He attempts a customer-friendly smile at the
man, Lupin. "Old girl gave us a bit of trouble. I'll bring her around. Er…make
yourself comfortable?" he says, gesturing to the brightly colored plastic
chairs.
Lupin's eyebrows rise in an amused gesture. "Not much of a 'people person' are
you…Stubby?" he asks, reading the name embroidered on his shirt below Prewett
Bros Auto.
"They keep me in the back mostly."
"With a face like that, I can see why," Lupin says solemnly, coaxing a bark of
laugher from Sirius.
Sirius shrugs and manages a genuine smile this time. He heaves a weary sigh.
"My burden to bear I suppose."
The moment lingers just a little too long and begins turning awkward. They both
look away quickly.
"I'll just—" Lupin stammers.
"Right, er, be right back with the car."
Sirius enters the main garage and hits the lights. He sees small scurrying
movements as a clan of cockroaches flees beneath dark surfaces. Grabbing the
key from the rack, he locates Lupin's battered Ford and drives it around.
"Your chariot, good sir," he says with a mock bow when Lupin comes out to meet
him.
Lupin shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips and takes the keys. "Thank
you. Tell Gideon and Fabian I said thank you as well."
"Will do." Sirius gives a salute and watches the car trundle out of the lot and
around the corner, his dream from earlier almost forgotten.
                                      oOo
"Isn't that your third?" Regulus says to Sirius over his book. He can
practically feel Sirius's glare.
"What's your point?" is Sirius's slurred retort.
Regulus bites his lip. It would be truly moronic to argue with someone who is
steadily on their way to becoming drunk. He focuses instead on his assignment
and ignores Sirius for the rest of the night.
                                      oOo
Later that night, Regulus is woken, once more, by Sirius thrashing beside him.
He should have just moved into the other bedroom when Sirius stumbled in around
two and collapsed, completely dressed, beside him.
Sirius is one of those people who constantly needs to be doing something. Idle
hands and all that. When Sirius was bored, he used to take it out on
others—what some might call boyish mischief was bullying in Regulus's eyes. But
there is no one but Regulus to torment these days, and Sirius doesn't dare for
isolating his one and only friend. He only works three or four shifts a week,
at most, at the Prewetts' shop, so when he is not there or pestering Regulus
about school, he is looking for something else to do at the bottom of a bottle.
Gritting his teeth, he sits up and reaches beside him, grasping Sirius's
shoulders and shaking him—a bit harder than necessary, but he's fucking tired,
okay? Sirius is mumbling incoherent phrases, "No, please…don't. Don't want
this."
"Wake up!" Regulus orders, and Sirius's grey eyes snap open, unseeing for the
moment.
"Reg?" he asks, focusing on Regulus's face looming above him.
Regulus nods and watches Sirius's chest rise and fall rapidly as he recovers
his breath. He thinks he ought to be compassionate. Ask Sirius about the dream.
If he's alright. He doesn't need two and two to put it together. Sirius had
been through an ordeal before they ran away. He has a pretty good idea what
they're about. And while he cares a great deal for his brother, and will offer
whatever comfort he needs, talking about their feelings is simply not on.
"Are you alright now?" Regulus asks when Sirius's breathing has slowed. Sirius
nods and rests his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. Alright is really
a matter of opinion. Regulus thinks Sirius is far from alright but he is not
going to cry tonight, so that's something.
Regulus runs a hand through Sirius's hair and waits for his breathing to even
out, indicating he is once more sleeping. Then gathers his blankets and heads
for the second bedroom. He has a test tomorrow and will not fail because Sirius
is hung up on things that happened months ago now.
                                      oOo
The first time is a complete mistake. An accident of sorts. Sirius is standing
outside in the alley behind the club, a cigarette dangling between his finger
tips. The club owner practically laughed in his face when he applied for the
open bouncer position.
"Scrawny thing like you?"
"He could dance on the bar. He's pretty enough," an obnoxious woman with red
talons for nails said.
The pounding from the bass inside is muffled, but he hears a flare of music and
voices for a moment as the door opens a closes quickly. Sirius ignores the
sound of someone walking up behind him until he feels an arm snake around his
torso and fingers delve boldly into the top of his jeans.
"How much?" a voice smelling of too much liquor asks in his ear.
"Fuck off," Sirius grunts, shoving an elbow into the man's belly.
The man doubles over and shoots Sirius a glare. "The hell you standing out here
with the rest of the whores then?"
Sirius glances around the ally and notices the few other people nearby. There's
a woman in a short skirt and spiked heels leading another man up a set of metal
stairs and through an open door, closing it behind them. One man, in the middle
of a negation is watching the byplay between Sirius and the presumptuous
stranger with an amused smile on his lips. His clothes are tight and he gives
Sirius a half-shrug and a wink. He can almost hear him saying, "Just do it,
love" before sauntering off with his own charge.
He doesn't need the money that badly. The bouncer gig would have given them a
little extra for spending and kept him occupied on weekends. He and Reg are
doing just fine.
Which is why he's completely surprised with himself when he hears his voice
tell the man, "Fifty to suck you off."
The man just laughs. "That's cute, kid. Go home."
He tosses his hair and gives the man a smirk. "If you don't want it…" He turns
and walks away but only makes it a few feet before he's being pulled and then
pushed against a rough brick wall. The man's mouth descends on his but Sirius
manages to turn his head in time, uttering a haughty, "Kissing is extra." He'd
heard that in a film once and nearly giggles though the situation is far from
funny. What is he doing?
Secluding themselves in a dark part of the ally, Sirius is pushed to his knees
by the other man who is already panting. The clicking of a belt buckle being
undone snaps some sense back into his brain.
"I want to see the money first," he says in a shaky voice.
The man grunts, digging in his pocket, and waves a bill at him. "Happy?" Sirius
makes a grab for the bill but the man pulls it out of his reach. "Make good on
your offer first."
He's never seen another man so up close and personal. The man's prick is hard
and red, leaking pearly white fluid from the mushroomed tip. It is much larger
than he expected.
Suddenly he doesn't want to do this anymore. Game over. He had his laugh and
now he really is ready to go home. But the choice is quickly removed.
Grabbing Sirius roughly by the hair, the man shoves his cock towards Sirius'
unwilling mouth. "Open up," the man sing-songs. Panicking, Sirius complies.
"That's a good boy."
It's horrid. The most vile thing he has ever put in his mouth and Sirius once
drank from a bottle of warm ale people had been using as an ashtray on a
drunken dare.
The man groans loudly as he pushes himself further past Sirius' lips until
Sirius feels it hit the back of his throat. His eyes water and he feels his
body trying to reject the obstruction but he breathes deeply through his nose
in effort to calm himself. There's no backing out now.
He begins to suck.
He has never done this before and has no idea if he is doing it right. The
notion of sucking another man's cock has never even crossed his mind in
passing. But his old girlfriend had gone down on him twice and remembering what
he liked from it seemed to be enough. The man certainly isn't complaining.
Tangy fluid rolls around his tongue and the man's groans are getting louder.
"Yeah," the man pants. "Take it. Pretty little slut."
It is odd that, of all things, this should turn Sirius on, but arousal burns
through him all the same. One hand hangs uncertainly over his crotch while the
other moves to cup the man's balls, rolling them slowly between his fingers. He
has not decided how his adventure into the world's oldest profession is going
to end before the man stills, pulling hard enough on his hair to part the
follicles from his scalp forever, and comes thickly down his throat.
Gasping through choking breaths, the man releases him, only to stoop and pull
Sirius into a plundering kiss. Sirius wipes his mouth as the man pulls away and
tucks himself back into his jeans.
"Worth it," the man says before dropping two fifties on the ground. They
flutter and settle beside Sirius' knees which are almost unbearably painful
after their continued contact with the hard pavement. The man turns and leaves
without another glance.
Absently, Sirius gathers the bills and tucks them into his pocket. He stands on
shaking legs and heads back the way he'd come. He does not make it far before
he is retching violently and the evidence of his previous activity and the
dinner he'd made for himself and Regulus is spilling behind an overflowing
rubbish bin.
"You get used to it," the man who smirked at him earlier says around a
smoldering cigarette. He offers one to Sirius but Sirius just shakes his head.
"What's your name?"
"Si—"
"Ah, ah. Not your real name, dearie. What should we call you?"
Sirius clears his throat. "Orion."
The smirking man laughs. "Well then, O," he says with a lewd wiggle of his
eyebrows. "See you around?"
Shrugging, Sirius turns to make his way to the bus stop. "Why do you do it?" he
asks the smirking man abruptly.
The man considers Sirius for a moment. "I like it," he says finally. "Why did
you?"
"Dunno," Sirius admits.
It isn't until later, after a thorough shower and less-than-truthful
conversation with his brother about his whereabouts, that Sirius realizes he
did it simply because he could.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     dub-con/non-con (depending on your interpretation) goes here
After the first time, it becomes extraordinarily easy. Sirius loiters outside
this club or that club. He’s picked up tips by watching the others. Learns how
to dress. How to act. What questions to ask and how to tease his charge just
right.
He starts making friends. Sort of. Most of the others welcome him into the fold
so long as he keeps his distance. Some of them even treat him to an early
breakfast after a long night.
The smirking man from the first night—Alexi he’s called—takes Sirius on as a
bit of a protégé. Offers Sirius advice and warnings. Helps him learn who is
safe to go off with and who he should avoid. Who will give them drinks or drugs
for little more than a snog and rub over the trousers.
He plays hard to get. Most men seem to like that. Like to think they’re some
how breaking Sirius’s resistance when he finally drops to his knees in front of
them. They like that he’s young. They try to talk him around to other things
but he won’t venture beyond hand and mouth stuff. One man had actually wanted
to suck him off.
It’s fun, in a way. A new sort of game. There is a kind of power in doing this.
The men who come to him are weak, helpless to their desires, and Sirius
swallows more than their spunk when they cry out their release. He likes it.
At least, while he is in the moment he likes it. When he’s home, he turns the
shower on as hot as he can get it and scrubs himself raw. He resists the urge
to curl up beside his brother because if Regulus knew…he hates to think of how
Regulus would react. He’d be repulsed. Disgusted. Sirius is disgusting.
So instead he sleeps fitfully, works a shift at the garage the next day, and
goes back to one of his now frequent hang-outs when the sun has set. He gets
drinks with Alexi, they find someone who’ll get them a little high for a quick
one in the alley, and then he starts the cycle over.
                                      oOo
Regulus knows something is up. Something has changed with Sirius. He goes out
nearly every night, or every other night at least. His clothes are tight, sheer
black shirts and ripped up jeans. He’s even seen a smear of dark eye make up
once or twice. He comes home late. Showers for nearly an hour and sleeps in the
second bedroom now.
When he asks, Sirius just gives him vague answers about working a shift at the
club. “You were the one who said I needed to find something to occupy my time,”
he says when he’s feeling particularly defensive.
Regulus gives up asking about it.
Late at night though, when he’s alone, he worries. Or pretends he’s not
worrying. Sirius is a big boy; he can take care of himself. What does Regulus
care?
Some nights, after he’s showered, Sirius visits Regulus. He flops onto the bed,
wet hair sticking to his neck, and asks Regulus about his day. Regulus gives
him a description of his day (ever so thrilling, as always), then tells him he
still reeks of cigarettes and to get his wet hair off his pillow.
Tonight is one of those nights. He hears the shower turn off and Sirius
rummaging about in the other room. A moment later the door is open and Sirius
sprints and bellyflops onto the bed beside him, pyjama pants and t-shirt dark
where they are clinging to his still wet body.
“Did you forget a towel?” he asks, closing his book and placing it on the
nightstand, thereby saving it from a soaking.
“Useless things, towels,” Sirius proclaims to the mattress. He leans up on his
elbows and gives Regulus a wide grin. Regulus wonders if Sirius has been
drinking tonight. His unfocussed eyes and giggling smile indicate he’s had
something intoxicating, to be sure.
A wet head of hair takes up residence in his lap. “What’d you do today?”
He wrinkles his nose as water seeps through the cotton of his pyjamas. “Oh, you
know...bus ride, boring lectures, told some girl I’d never date her in a
million years, bus ride, dinner, homework, wait for my idiotic brother to come
home after yet another night of revelry. The usual.”
“Some girl asked you for a date?”
“That’s what you choose to focus on?”
Sirius leans up a bit closer, his chin resting on Regulus’s boney hip. “Was she
pretty?”
Regulus shrugs. “She was alright.”
“Why’d you turn her away then?”
“She had the most grating laugh and she chewed her nails constantly.”
“So picky,” Sirius says, poking the soft part of Regulus’s belly.
“Excuse me if I have standards,” says Regulus, batting the hand away. “Unlike
some. Dog that you are I’m sure you give it up to anyone.” He taps Sirius on
the nose. “Slut.”
Sirius smiles broadly then crawls, cat-like, on his hands and knees up the
length of the bed. His chest brushes Regulus’s, pushing his t-shirt up,
exposing his stomach. and Sirius straddles his hips, tossing his hair a little
as he does so.
“That’s me, Reg,” he purrs, hovering above him, arms on either side of his
head. Regulus turns his head away from the suggestive look in his brother’s
eyes. “I’m a big old slut. A whore. Men pay me top dollar to get them off.”
“You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Regulus says, squirming a little at having
his brother so close. He feels cold water splashing on his neck. “And you’re
dripping on me!”
When he looks up into Sirius’s face again, the playful seductive look is gone.
Sirius looks on the verge of tears. His lip is trembling.
“I am, Reg. I am a…whore.”
The waver in Sirius’s voice gives him pause. This does not sound like a joke,
but a confession. He searches his brother’s face for any sign he is teasing.
“The club?” he asks tentatively.
Sirius shakes his head.
“Mother of fucking God, Sirius! Why?”
“I dunno!” Sirius wails. “It just sort of happened and…I dunno I kind of like
doing it sometimes.”
“That’s sick, Sirius.”
“I know! I know it is but…” Sirius trails off, his eyes anguished and searching
Regulus’s face for something. Another drop of water falls from Sirius’s hair
onto his cheek. A rough hand cups his face, thumb swiping at the drop.
Something shifts between them and in the next second Sirius lips are on his.
Shock is the first thing his brain registers, followed quickly by warm, and
then soft as Sirius’s tongue parts his lips. Sirius all but melts against him,
long, lean body sliding and draping across his so they are touching head to
toe. It isn’t until he feels the unmistakable jab of an erection against his
hip making Sirius groan and shudder that wrong joins shock, warm, and soft in
his brain.
He shoves hard at Sirius’s chest, pushing him away. “What are you doing?”
“I dunno. I just wanted to try it with someone I trust. Someone who isn’t
paying me. Fuck, I’ll settle for someone I know.
Sirius ducks his head, trying again for a kiss, but Regulus turns his head,
pushing against his brother. His efforts are for naught however; Sirius is
bigger and, though Regulus is loathe to admit it, stronger than him and he is
trapped beneath his broad chest.
“This is wrong. We shouldn’t,” he insists, the words hitching around a gasp as
Sirius sucks on a spot just below his ear, and his body begins betraying him.
Sirius’s mouth is hot, burning his skin every place it touches him.
“It’s okay, Reggie,” Sirius murmurs, hot breath tickling his neck and sending a
shiver across his skin. Regulus’s shirt is pushed further up his chest and cold
hands skirt across his abdomen. “No one has to know. It’s just me and you.”
Sirius kisses him before he can offer any further protests, mouth slanting over
his, sucking Regulus’s tongue into his mouth. He pushes again and this time,
Sirius relents, moving off him but only so he can slide further down, mouth and
tongue following the map laid by his fingers.
Regulus feels teeth graze a nipple and he moans. Suddenly he is having a hard
time remembering why they shouldn’t do this. On the surface he knows it is
wrong but Sirius’s mouth feels so nice and the pulsing in his groin is becoming
insistent.
The tips of Sirius’s fingers are in the elastic of his pyjamas, pulling slowing
downwards.
“Stop, Sirius…”
“Shhh, you'll like this, Reg. Promise.”
Sirius’s hands smooth down his thighs as he pulls the cotton clothing down to
his knees. Regulus squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the wet end of his
erection slap against his stomach, embarrassed that Sirius is seeing him like
this.
A warm hand cups his cheek again and he squints one eye open. Sirius is
hovering over him, grey eyes burning with something Regulus doesn’t quiet
recognize.
“Watch,” he says, and kisses Regulus softly on the mouth once more.
Slithering back down his chest, Sirius leaves a trail of searing kisses down
his abdomen until his head is level with Regulus’s cock. He watches half-
exhilarated and half-anxious over what is about to happen. 
Sirius laves his tongue over the tip, tasting him, and Regulus nearly loses it
right there.
He’s never done anything like this before. He’s kissed one girl in all of his
fifteen years and it had been a dare at a party and nothing much to write home
about. His hand is the most experience he has but this, oh, this is a million
times better.
Warm, wet heat surrounds his cock sending his senses into overdrive. His hips
lift automatically, seeking more of the sweet, velvety softness, and tiny
sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine when Sirius groans and takes him deeper.
Fuck, it’s heaven.
He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he settles for leaning up
on his elbows to watch himself disappearing in Sirius’s mouth over his own
heaving chest. One of Sirius’s hands cups his balls before a bold finger
presses firmly behind the tight sack and Regulus’s vision goes white.
“Sirius, I’m—I’m gonna—”
One more long suck and Regulus is spilling himself into his brother’s mouth as
his orgasm washes over him, mouth falling open as waves of pure ecstasy pulse
from him.
“Oh God, oh God, Sirius…” he moans.
Sirius gives him one final lick and almost immediately has straddled him once
more, kissing him, tongue eager and demanding entrance. Head still spinning
from the force of his orgasm, and thrown off at the sudden urgency, Regulus
kisses back. He tastes himself on Sirius’s tongue. He reckons he ought to be
disgusted by it but there is something about this wrongness that he is
beginning to like.
When they break apart, breathing heavily, Regulus sees Sirius has shucked his
own pyjamas down his thighs and is stroking himself steadily. His eyes are dark
and boring into Regulus’s hungrily and almost automatically, his hand reaches
out to touch Sirius.
Sirius slows, shuddering violently when Regulus’s fingers wrap around the
heated flesh. “Oh, fuck, Reg.”
He watches his hand, a bit dazed. He is touching Sirius. Touching. Sirius.
Somewhere in his mind he registers what a pretty picture Sirius makes. Dark
hair falling into his eyes, pupils blown wide with desire with just a small
ring of silver outlining, and mouth open and swollen red uttering gasping
breaths with each upward stroke.
God, he wants to hear that breathy moaning sound. Loves the way it fills his
belly with liquid heat. Sirius’s hand joins his, increasing the pace, and his
moaning grows louder.
“God, yes, so fucking good…” Sirius moans, rocking faster into his hand until
he stills suddenly. Regulus feels hot come coat his fingers and drip onto his
stomach as Sirius pulses into his hand.
“I’m sorry!” Sirius breaths suddenly, tearing his shirt off. He wipes Regulus’s
fingers and stomach with the shirt. “I’m sorry, Reg. I’m so fucking sorry. I
didn’t mean…”
Sirius tosses the soiled shirt to the floor and scrambles off him, leaning back
against the footboard to the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. Regulus sits
up, pulling his pyjamas back on as he does so, watching Sirius warily.
It is a very long time before either of them speaks.
“Is it just…the sex? Why you do it, I mean,” Regulus asks finally.
Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought it was but...maybe it’s just doing
something I know I’m not supposed to.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. Rebel without a cause; typical Sirius. “Was that why…”
he trails off gesturing to the space between them.
“Maybe…did you…like it?”
“It felt good,” Regulus admits, blushing and Sirius smiles.
Truthfully, he is utterly confused. He’s just had the most amazing orgasm of
his life and it was wrought by another boy. Not just any boy, but his brother.
He has no idea what to make of that.
What he does know is that Sirius needs him. So he reaches across the bed for
Sirius’s hand and tugs until Sirius moves and lies beside him.
Regulus shifts closer and kisses Sirius, boldly. Sirius tenses for a moment
then relaxes into the kiss and sighs. He runs a hand through Regulus’s hair and
down his back to rest on his hip.
“Stay with me?” Regulus asks when they break apart.
Sirius licks his lips tentatively then nods. “Yeah, okay.”
Regulus leans across Sirius to turn the lamp off and feels arms come around his
waist, fingers brushing the skin under his shirt gently. A small flare of
arousal licks at his belly. Sirius must have felt it too because he settles
himself closer, tangling their legs together and tracing his lips along
Regulus’s jaw.
Regulus allows the touch and begins to doze. It’s really quite nice, actually.
                                      oOo
The next night, Regulus catches Sirius getting ready to go out. He means to
tell Sirius off but becomes distracted by the shirt stretched tight over
Sirius’s abdomen, riding up just above low slung jeans. He has a hard time
tearing his eyes away from the dark curve of his hips peeking over the denim
material.
“Reg?” Sirius asks, looking over his shoulder in the mirror.
“You’re going out?” Regulus says, his tone angry and full of accusation.
Sirius’s eyes fall to the kohl pencil in his hands and he is quiet for a long
moment. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be very late. Don’t wait up.”
“As if I would,” he spits before stalking off and slamming his bedroom door. He
even locks it for good measure but Sirius does not come knocking. Instead he
hears quiet rustling through the wall, then footsteps on the stairs, and
finally, the click of the front door.
                                      oOo
Despite his promise, he is awake when Sirius arrives back at home just after
one in the morning. He listens to sounds of Sirius having his shower and does
well not to think of what, or indeed, who Sirius is washing off his body.
When he is done Regulus hears footsteps stopping outside his door. He can see a
shadow just under door on the floor.
“Do you hate me, Reg?”
Regulus says nothing. A soft thump sounds against the door and Regulus thinks
Sirius has just knocked his head against it.
“It’s…whatever I don’t know.
Several agonizing minutes later, Sirius shuffles away and into the other
bedroom, clicking off the hallway light.
                                      oOo
It is a full week before Sirius goes out again. Regulus wonders if Sirius has
been resisting for his benefit or if he truly feels ashamed. Not that Regulus
has made it easy for him.
They haven’t spoken much since. The money Sirius usually leaves him for lunch
is ignored and sits innocently on the counter top, not knowing the role it
plays in this conflict. Regulus continues to lock his door every night on
principle since Sirius makes no attempts to enter.
He catches Sirius on his way out and decides enough is enough.
“Sirius…don’t. You don’t have to keep doing this. It’s not like we’re hard up
for money, I know you pull decent wages at the garage, so just stop it!”
“It’s not about the money, Regulus.”
“Then what’s it about! Why are you doing it?”
“Because I—because…” Sirius struggles to explain, looking tired and anxious
Regulus makes a low growling noise in his throat, then hooks his fingers into
Sirius’s infuriatingly tight jeans, and pulls until they’re chest to chest,
flushed against one another.
Surprised, grey eyes meet his before Regulus leans up, only a little, they’re
almost the same height now, and kisses Sirius hard on the mouth. Sirius leans
into the kiss eagerly and nearly overbalances; they stumble until Regulus’s
back hits the doorjamb, Sirius’s hands scrambling for purchase as he tugs at
Regulus’s shirt.
“Oh, fuck, Reg,” Sirius mutters as they kiss, fingernails digging into
Regulus’s hips. Regulus arches up, wanting more, tangling Sirius’s tongue with
his.
Two sets of hands are pulling frantically at each other as they stumble back
into the bedroom. Sirius is cupping his jaw one hand, the other working the
drawstring on his pyjamas. They’re shirtless, Sirius’s jeans half-undone, when
they tumble onto the bed. Regulus groans loudly when their cocks rub together
through their clothing.
Sirius’s eyes are locked with his, watching hungrily as he circles his hips
against Regulus, eliciting more of that delicious friction. His legs part
shamelessly, giving Sirius better access, and it is Sirius’s turn to groan,
long and low, as they pick up a steady rhythm.
“Mmmm, God, you’re so pretty, Reg. Shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want you this
much…”
“It’s okay I…I want it too.”
And he does, kind of. It had been mind-blowing the last time, and he doesn’t
want Sirius selling himself anymore, so really this is no hardship.
It may not make much sense. It may be wrong, so very wrong, but if it is what
Sirius needs—if it will keep him home, keep him with Regulus. That’s all that
matters.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Hell was never a place Sirius contemplated much. He’d always seen it as a place
made up by others to scare you into being good, quite like pay raise
incentives, Santa Claus, and the government. But lately, hell seems like a very
real place he is likely to end up if he keeps things going with Regulus.
God, they’re brothers. Regulus is his brother. A gorgeous, wanton brother with
a mouth like a fucking angel.
“Fuck,” he swears and drops the tool he’s using into the engine. It makes a
loud clatter as it descends. “Bloody fucking, fuck!”
“Oi! Watch your mouth, Boardman.”
Sirius looks up from the blue Honda he’s working on and gives Gideon a half-
smile. “Sorry, Gid.”
He takes a deep breath and tries, in vain, to remove all thoughts of Regulus,
writhing and moaning beneath him, from his mind. It’s so very, very wrong, he
is an utter pervert, and yet he cannot stop fantasizing about what he wants to
do to his brother when he clocks out at five.
Perhaps there is something wrong with him. His parents were clearly unhinged.
Maybe because that madness did not have an outlet in their freaky little cult,
he turned to whoring himself and licking his little brother’s come off his
fingers.
“Do we taste the same, I wonder?” Regulus had asked, straddling Sirius, cocks
growing limp in their hands.
He held out his hand to Sirius who had given the most embarrassing noise as he
licked one finger and sucked it into his mouth before cleaning each digit with
his tongue. They hadn’t tasted the same, they mostly had just tasted like come,
but then that hadn’t really been the point.
They should stop. They really should stop. Except he never wanted to. The
nightmares has been less frequent when he’d been going out every night with
Alexi and meeting strange men outside clubs; they’re practically non-existent
now that his every thought is consumed by Regulus.
He finishes his work at 5:00 exactly, and rides his bike quickly (but safely)
home. Regulus is in the kitchen, books and paper spread out across the table,
with the newly purchased phone tucked against his shoulder.
“I know…right so tomorrow afternoon then? Alright then, bye.”
Regulus clicks the phone off and places it on the table, shuffling papers
neatly into folders and marking pages in his book. He looks up suddenly,
noticing Sirius standing in the doorway.
“Oh, hi. Didn’t hear you come in.”
“School stuff?” Sirius asks, gesturing to the phone.
Regulus nods. “Group project.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Oh yes, thrilling.”
Sirius crosses to the refrigerator and wrinkles his nose at its contents. Left-
overs from yesterday, expired milk, and not much else. He turns back to
Regulus. “What do you say we go out tonight?”
Taking his time stacking the books and folders into a neat pile, Regulus turns
and gives him a playful smile. Sirius’s knees go a bit weak. “Like a date?”
Hands stuffed into his pockets, Sirius offers his most winning grin. “If you
want. Dinner, maybe catch a film or something.”
Regulus gathers his books and saunters from the kitchen, speaking over his
shoulder as he goes. “I’ll go get ready then.”
                                      oOo
They end up having dinner at a small Italian place that they both agree has the
best breadsticks anywhere—an impressive feat considering the food they’d been
treated to in their former life. Sirius even let’s Regulus have a glass of wine
with their dinner.
Regulus tells Sirius about the idiots in his class and the project they’ve been
assigned and Sirius tells him about the various customers he gets at the shop.
They don’t talk about Sirius’s former night time excursions or the recent
change in their relationship.
Occasionally though, their eyes will meet, carrying a secret they’re too afraid
to speak with words; Regulus, in a bold move, runs the tip of his shoe along
Sirius’s leg after one such instance. Sirius drops his fork in surprise and
then, cheeks flushed, flicks a bit of tomato back at him.
Sirius wants to skip the film. He leans close, lips brushing Regulus’s ear,
telling him they’d probably have more fun if they headed home, but Regulus, who
is rather enjoying the slow building anticipation, declines and pushes Sirius
towards the ticket kiosk. “I want to see the really bloody one.”
It is a terrible film, full of too much gore and bad acting, but they alternate
making faces at each other during some of the more ridiculous parts, trying to
make the other laugh. Eventually, they reduce themselves to surreptitiously
throwing popcorn at the snogging couple a few rows in front, seeing who can get
the most into the boy’s rather ample amount of curls like they’re twelve and
away from their mother for the first time.
The bus ride back is sweet torture. Their thighs touch on the plastic seats,
warm through their clothing, and Sirius’s arm is draped casually over his
shoulders. Fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, occasionally
dipping into the collar of his shirt, making gooseflesh break out across his
skin. He bats his lashes in Sirius’s direction, teeth worrying his lower lip,
in retaliation, and he smirks when he hears Sirius’s breath hitch.
They’re on each other the second the door closes. Sirius’s hands pulling his
shirt from his trousers, Regulus’s hands buried in Sirius’s hair. Desire like
beating drums pounds through Regulus’s veins. They barely make it to the
bedroom before he is begging Sirius to finish him off. Sirius just chuckles in
his ear, calls him something filthy, and gives him what he needs.
God, it is a hundred different kinds of wrong, what they’re doing. He has
moments, tucked privately away in the bathroom, gasping for breath over the
sink as he waits for the urge to be sick to pass. If anyone knew. If they ever
found out how much he enjoys it.
Because he likes having Sirius’s attention. If he’s honest with himself, he
loves it. Sirius could always have anyone he wanted, and he wants Regulus now.
It is exhilarating.
Sirius had never ignored him before, but he’d never gone out of his way to make
Regulus feel welcome in his group of friends either. He was always “Sirius’s
kid brother” to anyone who knew them. Now he is something else. Something
Sirius cannot stand not to have. He’d be an idiot to give that up.
They lay on top of the sheets (because Regulus refuses to wash them three times
in one week), heart-rates gradually returning to normal, Sirius’s hands slowly
tracing the lines of his body. Forehead, jaw, collarbone. He taps a beat
against each of Regulus’s ribs and splays a hand across his stomach, watching
him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
He knocks the hand off his stomach impatiently. “We look the same you vain
bastard.”
Sirius runs the tip of his finger down Regulus’s nose, and then taps the cleft
on his chin. “No…similar maybe.”
He rolls his eyes and shifts out from beneath the other boy, heading for a
shower and post-coital panic attack, but secretly, he is pleased with the
compliment.
Regulus isn’t sure what they are any more. Brothers. Lovers. He knows why he
started this but can’t figure out why it’s still happening; then Sirius’s mouth
touches his, his hands find places on Regulus’s body that make him tremble, and
he remembers.
Right and wrong, Regulus decides, are a matter of opinion.
                                      oOo
“Stubs, we’re going to the pub after, want to come?”
Sirius nods as he washes up. He doesn’t go out with the twins often. Sometimes
they share a few drinks at the pub. Gid and Fabe proudly show off pictures of
their newest nephew to various ladies who appreciate their interest in family.
Often he declines, unwilling to leave Regulus alone—especially when he’d been
going out for all hours of the night. Now he has even less inclination to leave
Reg alone.
He uses the phone in the lobby to call Regulus, just to let him know he’ll be
late coming home.
“Hello?
“Hey, Reggie. I’m going for a few rounds with the twins. Might be home a little
later.”
“Oh…alright then.”
Silence
“Won’t be long.”
“I’m not your mother, Sirius. It’s good you called actually; I was going to
leave a note. That wanker Crouch wants to meet today instead of tomorrow so I’m
only picking up a few books and going over to his house to work on our project.
I might not be back till late either. His mum will bring me home.”
“Oh, yeah okay…Perfect then.”
Regulus’s soft chuckle puts a stupid smile on his face. “See you later.”
“Yeah, later.”
                                      oOo
“No, see now she is perfect,” Fabian insists, nodding to the blonde at the bar.
“Legs that go on forever. That’s where it’s at, my brother.”
Gideon shakes his head ruefully. “What do you think, Stubs? The blonde with the
stilts for legs or the brunette with the awesome rack?”
Sirius glances between the two women standing at opposite ends of the bar,
seemingly oblivious to the debate they’ve engendered. In truth, he doesn’t find
either very attractive, and that’s terribly worrisome. He should find the pale
cleavage poking out of that girl’s blouse sexy, should want to run his tongue
along the length of the other woman’s calf, but all he can think of is the way
Regulus’s navel dips into his stomach, the curve of his clavicle, the soft skin
on the small of his back.
He shrugs and takes drink from his glass. “Both.”
“Yeah, well, with a pretty face like yours you could pull them both, couldn’t
you?”
Sirius settles for a dignified sip of his lager and says nothing, but Gideon
and Fabian are laughing anyway. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Stubs, huh? I
bet you get offers all the time.”
“I know Mrs. Figg gave him the eye the last time she came in for a tune-up.”
They all give a collective shudder.
“She didn’t exactly get my engine revving,” Sirius admits.
“Maybe Stubby here is more for the lads, Gid.”
“When Mrs. Figg is your only prospect lately, you’d reconsider too,” Gideon
says, rescuing Sirius from what might have become a rather embarrassing
conversation.
“Say, I recognize those handsome bastards!” someone says loudly from behind
them.
They spin around on their stools. A curly, blonde-haired man is approaching,
grinning broadly.
“Benjy Fucking Fenwick!” the twins chorus. 
There is much hugging, backslapping, and “What the fuck have you been up tos”
as the friends reacquaint themselves. The man, Benjy, turns to Sirius.
“Who’s this?”
“Stubby Boardman. He works at the garage. Stubs this is Benjy. We went to
school together.”
Sirius shakes Benjy’s hand and does well not to cringe when he laughingly says,
“Lovely to meet you, Stubs.”
God he hates that name.
He begins tuning out their discussion about Benjy’s sister’s wedding and his
brief stay in town.
He wonders if Regulus is alright and if he’s being overly paranoid for worrying
so much. Almost five months on their own and this is the first time Sirius has
let Regulus out alone. So what if it’s a school project and he’s at some other
student’s house. It’s his job to be worried, isn’t it?
“We should get Frankie Fucking Longbottom and go out tonight. The four of us!
Just like old times,” Benjy is belching loudly over his pint. “You’re welcome
to come too, Stubby.”
Sirius shrugs, pleased he is, at least, not being called Stubby Fucking
Boardman, though that might actually be an improvement. “I dunno…”
“Oh, come on Stubby!” Fabian nudges him on the arm. “What’s waiting for you at
home, eh? You need to get out more!”
And isn’t that the truth? He used to be the life of any party. Had friends and
hangers-on following him around constantly. And Regulus is gone for the night.
He takes another long sip to give himself a moment to think than says, “Yeah,
sounds like fun.”
                                      oOo
“Hey, Reg, I guess you’re not back yet. I’m going to be out a little longer.
Might be kind of late actually. Don’t wait up.”
Regulus drops his school bag and replays Sirius’s message. He checks his watch.
11:31.
                                      oOo
At 2:42 Sirius stumbles home. Stumbles in the right word. He nearly falls to
the ground as he steps through the door. His keys make a loud clatter as they
hit the floor and Sirius gives an annoyed growl. “Stay there then. See if I
care.”
“Where have you been?”
He looks up at the sound of Regulus’s voice. He is seated in an armchair in the
room to his left, arms crossed over his chest, and scowl twisting his face.
Sirius stumbles over. “Din’t you get m’ message?”
“Are you drunk?” 
“A lil’ bit. Yeah.”
“What the fuck, Sirius? I thought you were done with all that!”
“I just went had fun with some mates, Reggie,” he says, trying to focus his
thoughts through the haze. “Don’t get your knick—knickers in a bunch.”
“Is that what they call it these days?” Regulus asks scathingly and rising from
his seat. “How many “mates” did you have fun with then? I swear, I turn my back
for one minute—”
“Hey, you were the one who said you weren’t my mum!” Sirius yells, anger
sobering him slightly. “I didn’t suck anyone’s cock in a dirty toilet or a back
alley, okay? Ask Gid and Fabe or Benjy Fucking Fenwick!”
Regulus says nothing.
“Where is this even coming from? Why are you so mad?”
A deep flush colors Regulus’s cheeks. “It’s—it’s disgusting! That’s all!”
“Right, because nothing we’ve done the last few weeks has been disgusting one
bit.” There is a deafening silence and it takes Sirius a moment to realize what
he’s said. “Reg…”
“You make me sick. Don’t ever touch me again.”
Regulus storms past him and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room shut.
He takes his time up the stairs and tries the door, unsurprised but
disappointed nevertheless to find it locked.
“Regulus, I didn’t mean it.” He wishes he had not had so much to drink. So
stupid to think he could keep up with those guys. “Please, Reg.”
Stony silence is all he receives.
                                      oOo
“No…” Sirius moans pitifully through the cloth between his teeth. He shakes his
head, dark hair falling into his eyes.
There is a brand at the end of the poker, glowing orange, and moving towards
his arm. He tries to scream but it comes out muffled.
He searches for his father’s face but the room is a dizzying swirl of color and
light. Heat is radiating from the brand. Won’t someone stop this?
White hot pain touches his arm, spreading like lightning up his arm and deep
into his bones. His stomach churns unpleasantly. His head grows light and his
vision darkens. Won’t someone stop this?
He wakes up struggling to catch his breath. His arm gropes automatically for
the warm body normally beside his but finds nothing but the soft cushioning
mattress. When he is calm enough, he rises and pads to the bathroom on shaking
legs. He splashes cold water onto his face, catching his reflection in the
mirror and grimacing at his haggard appearance.
Dark bruises under his eyes and beneath his cheekbones, the result of several
nights of interrupted sleep, stand out starkly on his pale skin. The nightmares
are worse, and more frequent than ever. He suffered them for a full week,
fruitlessly pleading with Regulus for forgiveness for his careless comment,
before he found himself loitering around some familiar clubs.
Alexi had been excited to see him at least. “O, baby, where have you been?”
Sirius had only shrugged and scoped the clientele.
But there was no more excitement or fun in doing this anymore. Mostly he was
just bored and disgusted with himself. No matter how drunk or high he gets, he
winds up at home, alone, and praying that his dreams will not torment him this
time and wishing Regulus would just talk to him.
He dries his face and exits the bathroom without looking in the mirror again.
                                      oOo
Sirius smiles shyly behind the rim of his glass, taking a long drink. He licks
a drop from his lip, watching the man’s eyes as they follow the path of his
tongue. God men are so easy.
An arm drapes across his shoulders, sending whiff of expensive cologne and
smoke in his direction, as the man beside him leans closer to speak in his ear.
“Have you ever been with two men before, O?”
Sirius fakes coyness, flutters his lashes, and smiles. He wonders where Alexi
has buggered off to but decides he can probably handle these two. “No, I
haven’t. I don’t suppose you know any who’d be willing.”
The two men share a laugh, fingers playing with his hair almost fondly. “Think
I might.”
“Excuse me, gents, but the proprietor asks that you pay your tab and take your
businesselsewhere.”
They look up at the sound of the voice. One of the bartenders has approached
their small, dark booth, a wash rag over his shoulder and a firm look in his
eye. Sirius recognizes him from somewhere.
The man across from his smirks. “If it isn’t little Lupin. How’s it going,
Remmy? Miss us?”
Ah. Lupin. Ford. Nice smile, if he recalls correctly. He is not smiling now,
however.
“Hardly.” Lupin collects their mostly empty glasses. “I’m not here to
reminisce, I’m afraid. Pay your tab and get out. Abs doesn’t want your lot
here.”
“Wormy had no problem serving us.”
“Wormy didn’t know any better. He does now. Don’t give me a hard time guys. I’d
hate to have to ask Hagrid to show you out.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would actually.”
“Hmph, the pup has fangs now, Scabe. What do you reckon?”
Scabior, the man with his arm draped across his shoulders, reaches into his
pocket and slides a few bills onto the table. “C’mon, this place is a dive any
way.”
The firm hand on his shoulder pulls Sirius from their booth and towards the
exit. Sirius glances around, catching Lupin’s eye as he is wiping down their
table. Lupin gives his new friends a significant look and shakes his head
curtly.
They make it as far as a dimly lit alley behind the bar--Scabior’s hands having
wandered to his hips, pulling him closer-- when Sirius decides he just wants to
go home. He stops when they arrive at a parked car. The uneasy feeling he’d
begun having when they left the bar solidifies in his stomach. Alarm bells are
ringing in his ears and he takes a step back.
“What’s the matter, O? Nervous?”
“No, of course not. I just remembered I—” he trails off, nervousness getting
the better of his quick thinking.
Laughter passes between the pair again. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll be gentle.
Don’t want to wreck that pretty face after all. Should fetch a good rate,
shouldn’t he?”
“Good rate?” he asks, but they ignore him.
A hand grips his chin, forcing him to look into Scabior’s face, dark eyes
passing critically over each of his features. A sinister smile twists his lips.
“He’s older than he looks, but not bad.”
“Really should give him a test run though,” says the other man, Sirius never
even learned his name, coming up beside him.
It is too late before Sirius realizes he’s probably in a lot of trouble. He
scans the alley but it is dark and there is no foot traffic coming through. He
can hear music pumping from the bar in the distance. He wonders if anyone would
hear him if he screamed.
“That we should.”
“Like hell,” he spits, wrenching himself from their grasp.
Sirius shoves them hard and bolts but they are faster. He doesn’t make it to
the end of the alley before he is on the ground, a knee digging painfully into
his spine, hands being pulled behind his back. He opens his mouth to scream but
the silver flash of a sharp blade in front of his eyes stops him.
“That’s right, love. There is only one thing you’ll be using that mouth for, so
keep it shut unless we tell you.”
Sirius swallows, eyeing the sharp blade warily. He nods.
“There’s a good lad. Get him up.”
***** Chapter 9 *****
Sirius is lifted and backed against a brick wall, the rough texture scraping
the palms of his hands. The tip of the blade presses firmly against his neck,
but not hard enough to break skin. Yet.
“Now for trying to run, I think a little punishment is in order. Can’t have you
thinking we’ll go easy on you if you disobey.” The blade is removed. “Pants
off, love, and turn around.”
Sirius panics. “I’ve got money. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just let me go.”
They laugh, loud and long, leaning on each other for support. The man who is
not Scabior wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Whatever you have in your pocket is nothing to what we’ll get selling you to
the DEs.”
He isn’t quite sure what they mean by that but knows it can’t be good. He eyes
the knife in Scabior’s hand. If he’s quick…if he lands a good punch. They seem
to read his mind because their smiles vanish.
“You’re worth more to us alive, love, but don’t think I won’t stick you if you
try anything. Now,” a hand cards gently through his hair, “pretty thing, you,
drop em’ and turn around, and don’t make me tell you again.”
But he can’t, even in the face of such obvious danger. He’s never been good at
doing what he’s told.
“Get the morsmordre,” Scabior orders. “He’s gonna obey whether he wants to or
not.”
Not-Scabior turns and opens the door to the car nearby, rummaging around for a
moment or two before returning with a thin needle full of clear liquid. He
uncaps it and moves closer to Sirius who tries to shift away from the dripping
needle.
“Don’t! I’ll do it,” he says quickly, unbuckling his belt. The men laugh,
Scabior nods, and the needle retreats.
Sirius turns, slowly, feet stumbling a little in nervousness. He hooks his
thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, taking a deep, steadying breath.
Someone shuffles up close behind him. He hears a low chuckle in his ear and
hands descend encouragingly on his hips.
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He squeezes his eyes shut and begins pushing
the fabric down, trying desperately to ignore the hiss in his ear.
“Hate to interrupt,” a voice says behind them.
They spin to look. Lupin is leaning against the building opposite, casual as
can be. He takes a drag from the cigarette between his fingers.
“Only I took the liberty of calling the police. They should be here soon.
Thought you ought to know is all.”
“You fucking snitch!”
Blue lights flash around the corner and relief floods Sirius’s veins. The men’s
attention is also drawn to the flashing and Sirius seizes his chance. He swings
his fist hard, catching Scabior in the temple. The larger man is knocked off
his feet, swearing loudly, but Sirius is not quick enough. A sharp pain flares
in his neck, followed by liquid heat blooming from the needle’s entry point,
and almost instantly he begins to swoon.
“Get him in the car!” someone shouts.
Sirius is pulled. He stumbles and falls. Then sees a blur of color as someone
cries out loudly in pain.
“Fuck it! Just go!”
The squealing sound of tires on the pavement rings in his ears and then things
begin growing dark.
And then hands are slapping his face gently but firmly. “Hey, c’mon, stay with
me.”
Shaking his head, Sirius tries to focus on the face looming above him. Dark
brown eyes are boring into his. “A-are they gone?”
“You’re alright now,” Lupin nods. Sirius follows the movement with his eyes,
bobbing his head, and grins sleepily. The edges of the world have gone
pleasantly fuzzy. Lupin chuckles and hauls him to his feet, grunting with the
effort.
They make their way around the alley towards the flashing lights, Sirius
leaning heavily on the other boy. When they round the corner the find another
boy standing beside what looks like a strobe light, his expression anxious.
“Turn that off,” Lupin says, nodding to the light.
“Did it work?” the other boy asks.
“Yeah, Pete, it did.”
“I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t know those blokes were no good. Hell of a first day
on the job.”
“It’s okay.”
“There’s no coppers then?” Sirius asks, bewildered.
“Eh, no,” Lupin says. “Bad for business, police hanging around. Had to think
quickly.”
Sirius claps Lupin on the shoulder, the movement sluggish and harder than he
might normally. “Fucking brilliant!”
Lupin smiles and ducks his head. “Yes, well, let’s just get you back inside.”
                                      oOo
Sirius is deposited onto a plastic crate in the back of the bar. Lupin tells
him to wait there and he does, partly because he has no idea what to do, but
mostly because whatever had been in that needle has made him very, very sleepy.
He leans his head back against the wall and almost immediately begins to doze.
Lupin is shaking his shoulder, who knows how much later. “Er…Stubby, was it? I
need you to wake up, mate.”
“Hmmmm, Reg?”
“Not quite.”
“M’ tired, Reg. So tired.”
“Who is Reg? Can I call him for you?”
He hears the question but he can’t summon the energy to respond. He is warm
from his head to his toes and yet not quite able to feel a thing. Who cares
anyway? He lets the stupor overtake him and sinks into blackness.
                                      oOo
The next time he wakes, it is to a blistering headache. He sits up, rubbing his
head gingerly, so it takes him a few moments to realize he has no clue where he
is.
He is on a sofa, wrapped in a warm flannel blanket, and still wearing his
clothes from the night before, though his jacket, shoes, and belt have been
thoughtfully removed. Glancing around the unfamiliar room, he spies a light on
through the hallway across from him and decides to follow it.
He ends up in a very small kitchen. A brown-haired boy is standing in front the
counter, sipping from a steaming cup, staring off into space. He looks up when
Sirius enters.
“Oh, hello,” he says, setting the cup down and running a hand through his
rather rumpled hair. “Feeling alright?”
“Where am I?” Sirius asks.
“You were pretty incoherent last night. I didn’t know where you lived so I
thought it best to just bring you home with me.”
Snatches of the previous evening flash through his brain. He remembers meeting
Alexi. They’d gone to a part of town they normally didn’t frequent to pick up
men for a change of scene. Some blokes had offered to buy him drinks. He
remembers going off with them. Things get pretty blurry from that point on, but
he remembers being scared and he remembers a pair of warm brown eyes telling
he’d be okay.
Lupin is watching him carefully. “Have a bit of headache?”
Sirius nods and then stops because that is not helping the pain. He watches as
Lupin retrieves a mug from the rack by the sink and pours another cup of tea,
handing it to him.
“I have something for the headache, if you like. Morsmordre is nasty stuff if
you’re not used to it.”
“Morsmordre?”
“Their drug of choice. Very dangerous and highly addictive.” Lupin rummages
about in a drawer for a moment and hands him a small, unlabeled bottle. Sirius
eyes it warily and Lupin gives a half-smile. “It’s nothing dangerous. You’ll
feel better. Trust me.”
And, surprisingly, he does. So he pops a small, white pill and swallows half of
his tea in one gulp, scalding his tongue in the process.
“When you feel up to it, I’ll take you home.”
Home. Oh, fuck. “Regulus.”
“Ah, the infamous Reg. Yes, you asked for him a lot last night. Is he your
friend?”
“My brother. I have to go. Now.” Sirius hurries back to the room he’d woken up
in, looking for his shoes. A hand comes down on his shoulder and he jumps at
the touch.
Lupin holds up his hands in a calming gesture. “Hey, calm down. I’ll take you
back. Just let me get changed. Your stuff is there,” he says, pointing to a
chewed up arm-chair.
It takes him all of three minutes to be ready, so he waits anxiously by the
front door for Lupin to return from his room. Regulus may not be speaking to
him at the moment but he doubts very much his absence for one whole night would
go unnoticed.
Seven agonizing minutes later, Lupin emerges, dressed in a dark blue jumper and
faded jeans. He retrieves a key from a hook by the door and smiles kindly at
Sirius. “Let’s go.”
                                      oOo
The front door slams open and Regulus is off the stool in the kitchen, where
he’d sat for the last several hours nursing a cold cup of tea and watching the
clock (still ticking towards the wrong hour) trying to decide when would be a
good time to phone the police, in an instant.
Sirius had never not come home before. When he woke that morning with no
recollection of hearing Sirius stumble home at some ridiculous time the night
before, he’d hurried to the second bedroom, silent treatment be damned, to find
it empty. Oh God, what if he’d been hurt? Or arrested? The sodding idiot.
He flies to the door, stomach in knots. Knee-shaking relief washes over him,
making him dizzy when he catches sight of his brother, looking like something
the cat dragged in, but undamaged and still fucking alive.
“Sirius!”
Sirius has the nerve to give him a tired smile and Regulus hasn’t decided if he
wants to hit the bastard or kiss him before he is flinging his arms around
broad shoulders and burying his face into the leather of Sirius’s jacket.
He feels a kiss on the top of his head as the embrace is returned. “Missed you
too, Reg.”
Regulus pulls back, leaning seriously towards hitting now when he hears the
door click shut and his eyes land on another boy. He steps out of the circle of
Sirius’s arms, scowling.
“Who is he?” he demands, glaring at the brown-haired boy. “Are you bringing
them home with you now? Fucking Christ, Sirius.”
Sirius shakes his head, eyes wide. “No! I don’t know who he is!”
“I’m Lupin,” the boy says, offering his hand. Regulus eyes it suspiciously and
it is withdrawn. “Remus Lupin. I helped your brother out last night. He had a
run in with a pair of Snatchers.”
“Snatchers?”
Lupin gestures to the sitting room across from them. “Perhaps we could sit down
and talk about this?”
They settle themselves on the sagging sofa, Regulus opting for the winged
armchair, still not having entirely forgiven Sirius, and glaring at Lupin as if
the whole matter is his fault. Lupin only smiles politely under the scrutiny.
“Well,” Regulus says, when no one offers any explanation. “What happened then?”
Sirius gives an infuriating shrug. “I’d like to know myself. Everything from
last night is kind of fuzzy.”
Lupin clears his throat. “I can’t account for what happened before you came
into the Hog’s Head of course, but I spotted you hanging around with one of the
most dangerous Snatchers the Death Eaters have to offer these days and one of
his lackeys by the look of it. I recognized you from the auto shop and I knew
you didn’t have a clue how dangerous those men were.”
“What are Snatchers and…Death Eaters?” Sirius asks.
“Snatchers. They…snatch people basically. Mostly people living on the streets
and especially the young ones.”
“Why? What for?”
“They work with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The DEs run a rather dangerous
crime ring. Drugs, prostitution, hits, kidnappings, your basic bad guy stuff.
Snatchers sell whoever they catch to the DEs for quite a lot of money
actually.”
“Do you mean like human trafficking?” Regulus asks.
Remus gives a grave nod. “Among other things.”
Sirius has gone very pale. Regulus spares him a glance, concern and anger
mixing in his heart over how close Sirius came to trouble, then narrows his
eyes back to Lupin. “How do you know so much about it?”
For the first time since he’d begun speaking, Lupin falters. “I—I was involved.
For a while. Pushing M mostly. I got out about a year ago.”
Regulus is getting a bit tired of receiving nothing but more questions than
answers. “M?”
“Morsemordre. Their special brand of narcotic. Wicked stuff. Er, I’m afraid
your brother got a dose of it last night when they tried to cart him off.”
“Bloody fucking hell, Sirius!” Regulus growls, anger trumping concern for the
moment. “What were you thinking? Oh, never mind, silly question. You weren’t
thinking! Were you?”
Pink colors the pale of Sirius’s cheeks. “It’s not like I wanted any of that to
happen! I didn’t know!”
Regulus gives a humorless laugh. “Well I suppose I could have put that on your
tombstone then? If your body had even been recovered, that is. What do you
think would have happened to you if Lupin hadn’t been there to save your sorry
arse? What do you suppose would have happened to me?”
He lets the question sink in and Sirius sags looking miserable. Regulus isn’t
quite done being angry with Sirius but the look in his eyes is enough to bring
Regulus back around to grateful he’s at least alive.
The sound of Lupin’s throat clearing reminds them both he is still in the room.
He carries on speaking as if the outburst had never occurred. “I would have
brought him home but he wasn’t in any state to tell me where he lived or your
number so I put him up on my sofa for the night.”
Sirius claps Lupin gently on the shoulder. “Thanks, mate. Really. You didn’t
have to do any of that for me.”
Lupin only smiles. “Of course I did. Think I could have lived with myself,
knowing what they were capable of?”
“I guess not,” Sirius says, removing his hand from Lupin’s shoulder. He glances
over at Regulus. “Sorry, Reg. I…”
Regulus isn’t sure he’s ready to forgive Sirius, but the pitiful look in his
eyes is enough to make him nod and say, “You’re alright, that’s what matters, I
suppose,” with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I’d better be going,” Lupin says, cutting through the awkward tension and
standing.
Sirius moves to stand also but Regulus beats him to it. “I’ll see you out.”
When they’re alone, Sirius having excused himself and disappeared up the
stairs, Regulus turns to Lupin. “Thank you for taking care of him. I—” he isn’t
sure what he means to say. I don’t know what I would have done. I wish he
wasn’t so bloody stupid sometimes. I need him.
He lets his words trail off and Lupin gives him a kind smile. “It was no
trouble. Take care, alright?”
Nodding, Regulus bids Lupin goodbye and closes the door firmly behind him.
                                      oOo
Regulus is making a fresh pot of tea and sandwiches when Sirius reappears,
dressed comfortably in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, toweling his
hair dry. He slides a cup of tea and plate of sandwiches onto the table as
Sirius flops gracelessly into a seat.
They are silent for a very long time. Regulus nibbles on a piece of crust and
watches Sirius who is leaning with his elbows on the table, clutching his wet
hair.
“You shouldn’t be the one taking care of me,” Sirius says quietly to his plate.
Regulus sips his tea, thoughtful for a moment, then says, “We said we’d take
care of each other. Remember?” Silver eyes meet his looking utterly miserable.
Regulus shrugs one shoulder. “Granted you’re not making it very easy on me. The
price I pay for having such an idiot for a brother, I suppose.”
Sirius actually smiles but it fades quickly. “You deserve better than me.”
The raw sincerity in that statement sends a rush of emotion through Regulus’s
heart. How he can love and hate Sirius with such equal intensity in the span of
only a few hours, he’ll never understand.
“Eat,” Regulus orders, hiding his blush behind his cup. “You look like hell.”
                                      oOo
Sirius manages to coax him into taking nap with him after lunch, not that
Regulus gave much protest. He kicks his jeans to the floor and curls up beside
Sirius under the sheets. Without preamble, Sirius’s arms come around his torso,
pulling him closer until they are laying face-to-face, arms and legs tangled
together.
“I didn’t mean it, you know,” Sirius murmurs sleepily against his jaw, placing
a soft kiss there. “I don’t think anything we do is disgusting. I love it,
touching you.”
Regulus lets his head fallback as Sirius continues to gently explore is throat,
desire unfurling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. “God, I’ve missed you,”
Sirius mutters and rocking his hips slowly and meeting Regulus’s building
arousal with his own.
Regulus’s fingers dig into Sirius’s hips, pulling him closer, tighter. He’s
missed this too. Missed Sirius wanting him. Needing him.
It takes mere minutes before Regulus shudders against his brother, muffling a
soft cry into Sirius’s chest. Sirius follows shortly thereafter with a cry of
his own, hands gently stroking Regulus’s back.
“Love you,” Sirius mumbles, kissing the top of his head.
“Git,” Regulus says fondly, and tucks his head under Sirius’s chin feeling safe
again for the first time in weeks.
***** Chapter 10 *****
After Sirius's run-in with the Snatchers and timely rescue, life almost returns
to normal for the two brothers. Terrifying though the experience undoubtedly
was for Sirius, it apparently had done some good. The changes Regulus sees in
his brother are tremendous.
Sirius begins throwing himself into work at the garage, picking up extra shifts
to stay busy. He joins a pub league the next time the Prewetts invite him along
for a Sunday footie match, and Regulus even goes to cheer him on. After dinner
every night, he helps Regulus study for his up-coming exams, and they fall
asleep in the same bed.
It sets Regulus's mind at ease to finally have Sirius doing the right thing.
Firm believer in positive reinforcement that he is, Regulus begins rewarding
Sirius, making sure there is always a small breakfast and warm tea waiting for
him in the morning, complimenting him on his form during league practices, and
offering up his body more freely and frequently than he ever had before.
And so things become wonderfully normal.
There is one change Regulus could do without, however; the number of times the
name Remus Lupin is spoken by Sirius has increased dramatically. Increases
daily, in fact.
Since his daring rescue, Lupin (and to a lesser extent, another boy by the name
of Pettigrew) has become a regular guest around their house. When he's not
taking up space on their sofa or at their dinner table, Sirius is either glued
to the phone with him or out for drinks at the pub.
Things like: "Remus says that place has the best curry," or "You have to hear
this band Remus likes," or "Listen to this joke Remus told me," begin falling
so easily from Sirius's lips that Regulus feels like he might tape Sirius's
mouth shut for a few minutes of respite.
Regulus tries to be happy Sirius has made a friend. A friend who, despite his
shady, secretive past, is more or less a decent human being. But lately he's
becoming a bit of a nuisance.
Because even if Sirius is blissfully ignorant, Regulus sees what is really
happening. There is no misreading the look in Lupin's eyes as he watches Sirius
talk. The way he touches Sirius, casually, but with lingering purpose. Regulus
feels something inside him roar every time he catches Lupin's hands on Sirius's
shoulder, his chest, toying with his hair.
That Sirius continues to moan Regulus's name at night is the only thing keeping
him from going completely mad with jealously. But after Sirius has fallen
asleep, Regulus watches him, and wonders if it's only a matter of time.
                                      oOo
Sirius eyeballs the small shot of amber liquid on the table in front of him and
glances back up at Remus who is wearing a mischievous smile.
It has been several weeks since he was nearly snatched. One how-about-I-buy-
you-dinner-just-to-say-thank-you later, and he and Remus have become nearly
inseparable. It had only taken six or so months but Sirius finally realized
what he'd been missing since he and Regulus ran away.
A friend.
Someone who gets him. Someone to talk to. Laugh with.
The Prewetts are fun and they include him from time to time, but outside of
work he doesn't see much of them. Alexi was…well that's over and done with and
Sirius doesn't think he needs friends of that sort anyway. And Regulus, fuck,
he's so confused over what Regulus is these days he doesn't even want to think
about it.
"The rules are simple," Remus says, interrupting his musings. "I ask a
question. You either answer the question truthfully, or take the shot, and you
can't ask the same question twice."
"How do we know who wins?"
A soft chuckle escapes Remus. "You don't win. You just get pissed or get some
interesting answers from the other person. C'mon you can go first."
"Alright," Sirius says, and clears his throat. "Remus, er, what is your
favorite color?"
The look Remus gives him is simultaneously amused and exasperated. "Blue. My
turn," he says, pushing the shot towards Sirius without spilling a drop. "Are
you a virgin?"
It is Sirius's turn to roll his eyes but privately he's a little unnerved.
Apparently Remus was not afraid to get personal. "You know what I was doing
nights before we met."
"Wait, you actually had sex with them? I thought it was just, you know…"
"No!" Sirius rushes to correct him. "I didn't. It was just, you know…but no,
I'm not a virgin."
"Who'd you lose it to? Anyone I know?"
"It's my turn! No cheating, Mr. Lupin." Remus shrugs and Sirius continues.
"Okay, what about you? Are you a lily-white maiden or a filthy little trollop?"
"Filthy trollop," Remus says, a touch proudly. The shot is back in front of
Sirius. "Why does your brother call you Sirius?"
Shit. He should have expected that one. Regulus had been far too careless.
Sirius chews his lip thoughtfully. He absolutely trusts Remus, surprisingly so,
given how long he's known him.
With one finger, he pushes the shot slowly back across the table to Remus. "He
calls me Sirius because that's my name. Sirius Black. Stubby is…just a cover."
"Sirius Black," Remus tests the name slowly, rolling it around in his mouth
like a candy, half a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. Sirius watches
Remus's tongue curl up on the L. "I have to say, I'm a bit relieved. I mean,
Stubby?"
Sticking his tongue out at Remus, Sirius says, "My turn." Using his finger, he
draws a line from his earlobe to his collarbone. "How did you get that scar?"
The half-smile becomes a frown and Sirius gives a small cheer. Remus runs a
hand along the faded scar briefly, then plucks the shot from the table and
downs it in one gulp. He is quiet as he refills the glass, and Sirius wonders
if he went too far.
He drops the shot in front of Sirius carefully then gives him a wicked grin,
all traces of the moment before gone. "Sirius Black," he says, clearly enjoying
the use of Sirius's given name, "do you think I'm cute?"
Not the first time Remus has flirted so blatantly with him. Sirius is not
stupid. He's been flirted with before. Has done his fair share of flirting. He
isn't sure though, if Remus is just the flirty type, or if there is meaning
behind it he's not picking up.
Certainly he's felt a spark or two (or maybe a hundred) of attraction to the
other boy. Interesting that even despite his former nighttime occupation, and
his current whatever the hell it is he's doing with Regulus, he still does not
think of himself as gay. He doesn't really think of himself as anything.
And Remus iscute. Tall and lean. Gorgeous, expressive eyes that are forever
hidden behind a wave of light brown fringe he is constantly pushing away with
long, clever fingers; Sirius has always had a thing for brunettes. And the most
adorable dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and this one on his
lip that looks like he has a bit of chocolate stuck to it, and if Sirius would
just run his tongue along it…
Sirius toasts Remus before sinking the shot quickly, and only wincing a little
at the burning trail now blazing down his throat. Remus pouts, but he is
smiling, for real, again.
The next shot is waiting patiently in front of Remus. Sirius considers for a
moment, and then asks, "Why won't you tell me about that scar?"
Remus's mouth falls open in indignation. "That's cheating!"
"It's a new question!" insists Sirius.
Remus crosses his arms, curling in on himself slightly. "It's personal,
St—Sirius."
"I thought that was the point of this game." Sirius comes around to the other
side of the table so they're sitting side by side. He places a hand on Remus's
shoulder tentatively, and is relieved when it is not knocked away. When he
speaks it is low and sincere. "I'm not going to tell anyone or think
differently of you. Christ, you practically caught me with my pants down. I'm
not in any position to judge."
The baleful look he gets from Remus is enough to make him reconsider. They
don't know each other this well. Enough to divulge deep, dark secrets. He
doesn't even know why he needs to know at all. Only that he does.
Remus reaches out and downs the second shot. Sirius bites back his
disappointment with every intention of letting the matter rest, when Remus
begins speaking in a quiet voice.
"When I was little…maybe five or six…I got really ill. My parents did
everything they could to make me well again. Took me to all these special
hospitals and doctors. They racked up a huge debt after a while. My dad asked
this man Greyback for a loan. When he couldn't pay him back…Greyback took me as
payment."
"Oh, fuck, Remus…" He doesn't know what else to say.
"When I was eleven I tried to escape. I didn't even make it to the train
station before he caught me. That's how I got this scar. It…isn't the only
one."
Sirius's mouth is hanging open in shock. That was not what he expected to hear.
At best he'd thought an "I wrecked my car one time," and at worst, possibly,
"Well, my dad used to drink a lot…" but this is just horrible.
"You obviously got away eventually," manages Sirius. "Did your parents find
you?"
Remus shakes his head. "No…no, they're dead. I don't know if Greyback killed
them or what."
"I'm so sorry." Sirius places a hand on Remus's knee.
One boney shoulder rises in a half-shrug. "I don't really remember them."
"You don't have to tell me any more. It's okay," Sirius says, earning him a
contemptuous snort.
"Knew I'd make you uncomfortable eventually."
"It's not that!" he insists. "I just…you don't have to. I don't want to bring
up painful memories or anything."
The look in Remus's eye softens. "It's alright, Sirius. I haven't told anyone
this before. Not even Pete knows the whole story and he's like my best mate.
It's…nice to get it out."
Sirius nods and gives his knee an encouraging squeeze. "So how'd you escape
then?"
"Greyback's syndicate was raided by DEs. My choices were death or service to
Voldemort. It could have been much worse. Some of the other kids Greyback had
were auctioned off. All I had to do was make M. I guess they thought I was
damaged goods or something."
"More like they realized you were too clever to waste."
Remus taps the side of his nose, still looking down at his knees. "Anyway, I
got picked up by the police with a fuck load of M in my pocket little over a
year ago now. The judge was lenient though. Sent me to a boy's school instead
of a correctional facility. Got me a job when I was done, working in his
brother's pub."
And so the mystery of Remus Lupin is revealed, Sirius thinks a bit sadly. He
likes Remus. A lot. Remus is such a genuinely good person. Nice, funny, brave.
Life had been so unfair to him.
Remus is quiet for a long moment then he pours another shot and hands it to
Sirius with a wry grin. "What's your favorite color?" he asks, as Sirius
blurts, "I ran away."
Sirius rolls up the sleeve of his jumper showing Remus the faded brand on his
arm. "It was my birthday…"
He tells Remus everything. About the ceremony. The blood and the burning pain.
How he'd fled in the dead of night with Regulus. How they'd dodged police and
come to live in their uncle's old house. About how much he missed his friends.
About the nightmares and the fights and how he'd fallen into selling himself.
About now utterly helpless he feels. How he feels like he's failed his brother,
though he does omit some details about his and Regulus's relationship.
Remus listens quietly, one sympathetic hand holding his, giving him the courage
to continue speaking.
"I should have never brought him with me, Remus."
"He cares about you."
"And I love him but…I don't know how to take care of him. I feel like I'm
ruining him. I think maybe I already have."
"No one has a normal life, do they?" Remus says softly when Sirius has finished
his tale. He touches the faded mark on Sirius's arm, sending a shiver across
his skin.
Shaking his head, Sirius rolls down his sleeve again. Their hands are still
clasped tightly. Surprisingly, it does not feel awkward. They know each knows
the other's secrets and no one is running away.
"Can I kiss you?" Remus asks suddenly, brown eyes meeting and holding his.
Sirius hesitates, surprised at how quickly they're moving. He's probably
thinking too long about it. Remus is starting to look worried and he's sliding
his hand out of Sirius's, and just when did it get so sweaty? He glances over
to the neglected shot on the table and swallows it quickly before saying, "Yes.
For the love of God, yes."
There is nothing shy or sweet about kissing Remus Lupin. Remus is bold. Parts
his lips without hesitation, tasting Sirius with his tongue. Sirius tastes
back. He feels hands on his jaw and in his hair and, God, he wants to touch
back, so he does, running fingers to cup the back of Remus's head, holding him
in place.
Sirius wants to be closer. They're snogging now and too far apart in separate
chairs for his liking. He shifts, preparing to straddle Remus's lap, when he
hears, "Oh…sorry," from the door.
Regulus is watching them, hair in disarray like he's just woken up, and wearing
a neutral expression. Fuck.
"I thought you were asleep," Sirius says, putting some distance between himself
and Remus.
"I was. I just came for a drink of water." Sirius thinks he might have caught a
spasm of hurt flit across Regulus's face before he turns. "I'll leave you two
alone."
And he is gone.
Remus clears his throat, running a hand across his reddened face. "He won't
um…he's not going to be angry with us or anything?"
"Why would he be angry?" Sirius asks sharply.
"Well…he's okay with you seeing men then?"
Oh. Sirius shrugs. "I dunno."
The mood is sufficiently ruined. Remus seems to sense this too because he
rises. "I should go."
Sirius sees him to the door and kisses him chastely. "I'll call you."
Remus smiles. "I hope so."
Once he is gone, Sirius almost immediately wishes Remus had not left, but the
longer he waits to go up to bed, the guiltier he'll seem. What does he have to
be guilty over anyway? It was a kiss. Regulus isn't his boyfriend. They
just…mess around. It's fun. Hot, sticky, glorious fun. They're not in love or
anything.
But he knows that's not entirely true. There is a small part of his heart that
flutters every time their eyes meet. That aches as he watches Regulus sleep.
That burns when their mouths meet. The same part of him that he thinks could
one day belong to Remus if he gave it a chance. It is decidedly un-brotherly,
and Sirius is sure it is not a good thing.
He does love Regulus. They're brothers, he reasons. He is obligated to love
him. But even if they weren't, he'd still love him. Regulus is clever and proud
but so very, very vulnerable. Sirius sees the utter terror in Regulus's eyes
when he lets his guard drop. God, Sirius just wants him to be happy.
He thinks about ending whatever strange relationship they've started but knows
if he does that, it will irreparably tear them apart. It has become too much a
part of who they are now. To end it would be disastrous. And though he knows
this, Sirius also knows that to continue will likely ruin them too. He is stuck
trying to think of an answer that will lead to the least amount of broken
hearts.
When he cannot find one, he does the only thing can think of, which is to tidy
up the remains of his game with Remus, and trudge up stairs to face the music.
                                      oOo
Regulus has a decision to make. Pretend to be asleep or let Sirius have it. He
is still not sure which option to take when Sirius quietly enters the room
after a brief fumbling about in the bathroom. The mattress dips when Sirius
slides beneath the sheets.
"I hope you don't expect to touch me after you've been slobbering all over that
drug dealer."
Well, there really hadn't been a choice, had there?
Sirius sighs. "He doesn't do that any more."
"And you believed him? God, you're so gullible, Sirius. And you're deliberately
missing the point."
"I'm sorry, Reg. It just happened. I…"
There is a very long silence. Regulus rolls over. Sirius is watching him with
guarded eyes. Rising onto all fours, Regulus crawls over the short distance and
straddles his brother, hands and knees on either side of his body. He leans
down, lips ghosting over Sirius's.
"He fancies you."
"I know."
"Do you fancy him?"
"Maybe…I don't know."
"But you fancy me more, don't you?" Regulus asks, and he lowers his hips
slowly, pressing Sirius into the mattress, both boys groaning as their clothed
erections connect. "You like this, right?" Sirius nods, eyes drifting shut,
rising up to meet Regulus's slow rolling thrusts.
Sirius is moaning, arching his neck to catch Regulus's lips in a kiss. He
growls a little when Regulus turns his head at the last second. "Please, Reg,"
he whines.
Regulus begins thrusting harder, faster. He balances himself on one hand, and
uses the other to shuck his pants down. Beneath him, Sirius does the same until
hot, wet flesh is sliding against hot, wet flesh.
"Say you only want me," Regulus pants, their lips sparse inches apart. "Only
me. Not him."
Sirius is keening. "God, yes, only you..."
And Regulus rewards him with a kiss, hot and hungry. Sirius's hand slides
between their bodies, wrapping around twin arousals. He pumps them in time with
Regulus's frantic thrusting and within seconds, they're both crying out loudly.
The momentum slowly peters out, and Regulus collapses into a sweaty heap on top
of Sirius's heaving, sticky chest. Sirius's arms are coming around him, holding
and stroking his hair.
"Just me and you," Sirius says, and Regulus is almost too tired to hear the
resigned note in his voice as he says it. Almost.
***** Chapter 11 *****
A week later, Regulus is accosted by Lucinda Selwyn, the nail-biting,
irritating-laugh girl in his year, as he's packing up his bag for the day.
"What do you want, Lucy?" he says, stuffing a notebook into his bag without
looking up.
"Don't be mean, Reggie. I was just wondering if you were going to Barty's party
tonight. His parents are going to be gone for the whole weekend."
Regulus is about to tell her no. He's already told everyone else who has asked
him he's not going. Regulus had not been nearly as popular at his old school.
He thinks a lot of it has to do with the fact he is new and quiet and brooding,
which inspires curiosity, but really he'd rather they just left him alone.
Lucy watches him closely. He hesitates. Sirius has not, as Regulus might have
hoped, severed all ties with the interfering Remus Lupin. He hasn't caught them
snogging since the first time, but they're still always on the phone or out
together. Although now, Sirius looks a lot guiltier than he had, which is in no
way reassuring.
Regulus doesn't ask and Sirius doesn't tell, but it hurts much more than
Regulus is willing to admit. It kills him to wonder if the same lips kissing
his stomach have been wrapped around Remus Lupin's cock. He wants to stop—he
can't bear the thought of being with Sirius when Sirius might have been with
someone else—but he can't. He wants Sirius too much. Has convinced himself
Sirius is choosing him when they go to bed at night, but it's starting to feel
like a lie.
And Lucy, for all her jagged nails and annoying laugh, is nice looking. Sharp
green eyes and long blonde hair. A bit too many freckles for his liking, but
they suit her.
Plenty of the other boys in his year have some sort of crush on her. Mostly
because she's pretty and \she doesn't just give it up to anyone drunk or stupid
enough to make a pass. Her sights had been set on Regulus the minute he stepped
into their classroom; and her pride had been stung rather hard at Regulus's
previous rejection. He had to hand it to her for trying again.
Mind made up, he gives her a slow smile. "Are you going?"
She tosses her hair. "Of course. Everyone is going."
In a bold move, he leans close, tilts her head up with one crooked finger
beneath her chin, and places a quick kiss on her cheek. "Maybe I'll see you
there then?"
Careful to remain cool, he brushes past her, and heads for his bus, leaving her
to goggle after him.
                                      oOo
"Where are you going?" demands Sirius as Regulus emerges from upstairs.
Regulus glances over, trying and failing to hide a smirk. Sirius's eyes travel
the length of his body. He's stolen a pair of Sirius's tightest jeans, and a
green button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If the way Sirius's
eyes darken is anything to go by, he looks just as fuckable as he'd hoped.
"Just to Barty's for a bit. He's having a party."
"And when were you going to tell me about this?"
Regulus's eyes dart to Lupin sitting beside Sirius on the sofa, then back to
this brother. "I didn't realize I needed your permission to see my friends. I
don't ask you questions when you run off to see yours."
Sirius glares. "Well you do."
"Fine," Regulus bites out, but secretly he is pleased at the reaction he's
getting. It is almost exactly what he'd hoped for. He adopts a sweet voice.
"Sirius, can I please go to my friends for a few hours?"
An uncomfortable look passes over Sirius's face and he falters for a moment and
looks away. "Yeah…sure."
"Thanks."
"Wait." Lupin is rising from his seat as Regulus makes for the door. "You're
not taking the bus are you?"
Regulus resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, I am."
"It's dark. You shouldn't take the bus alone. I'll drive you."
Damn Remus Lupin and his constant heroism. Regulus wants to tell him to quit
pretending. He already has Sirius wrapped around his finger, he can drop the
noble act. But it is dark.
He nods and forces a smile. "Thanks. That would be nice."
                                      oOo
"Call me when you're ready to come home," Sirius calls from the passenger
window.
Regulus waves his hand in affirmation and doesn't look back as he closes the
car door. Sirius watches as Regulus is greeted enthusiastically by two boys his
age who usher him inside, arms slung about shoulders.
He doesn't like this one bit. He knows what goes on at parties like that. At
one time he was the life and soul of such parties.
"Stop it," Remus says suddenly.
Sirius tears his eyes away from the house Regulus has disappeared into, growing
smaller in the distance. Remus is smiling.
"He'll be fine. Stop fretting."
"I'm not fretting!"
"No, you're not fretting. Just like you haven't been avoiding me this past
week."
"I haven't…"
Remus gives him a disbelieving look. "I'm not stupid, Sirius."
They say nothing for a long time. He hasn't been avoiding Remus. They still
chat on the phone and get lunch or drinks together. Same as before.
"Is it because of your brother?" Remus asks, breaking the awkward tension.
"Why would Regulus have anything to do with it?"
"Well…we kissed. He caught us out. Now you can't stand to be alone with me. We
go places where there are loads of other people and you've made excuses every
time I've tried to come over. You didn't even want to let me over tonight! What
am I supposed to think?"
Sirius is silent for a moment. It is absolutely true. Sirius has been careful
to keep Remus at arms length. It hasn't been easy. Remus is so tempting. Sirius
wants him so much. But he's promised Regulus.
"You don't understand. I'm…responsible for him. I can't just do whatever I want
anymore."
"It's good you're being responsible, Sirius, but…"
"But?"
"Don't just do it because you're trying to spare his feelings. He can't dictate
who you see or what you do. Oh, don't look so surprised," Remus laughs,
catching the look on his face. "I've seen the way he is around you. Treats me
like an intruder. He's…protective. Possessive even."
"He's not."
"He is. It's actually kind of sweet. He wants to take care of you too."
It is amazing how innocently Remus sees his relationship with Regulus. They
just seem like very close, very loyal brothers. If he only knew.
They're stopped at a red light. Remus is watching him closely. "I like you,
Sirius. I'm not asking for the moon. I just want a chance to see where this
goes. And I don't want to come between you and your family but I think, if he
truly cares about you, he'll want you to be happy."
Sirius quirks a brow and smiles. "And you think me being with you will make me
happy?"
Remus turns a bright pink, stammering, "I—I only meant…" before Sirius lets out
a burst of laughter. Remus glares.
"Bastard," he says, but it is lacking any real anger. Without another word, he
puts the car in park, leans across the seat, and kisses Sirius softly on the
lips.
Sirius, who is confused and frightened and more than half-way to being in love,
lets him.
                                      oOo
AC/DC blares from the speakers.
Thunder…
Regulus groans around his cup and forces himself to continue swallowing the
strong mixture of whiskey and cola. The others beside him laugh and cheer, some
of them giving an encouraging "You've got this, Reg!" as he steadily chugs the
remainder of his drink. He tries to focus on the lyrics to the song and not the
burning in his throat.
Broke all the rules…Played all the fools…
What stupid game. How'd they even talk him into this? He is never going to
another party like this again; he'll just have to find some other way to annoy
Sirius. How long is this bloody song anyway?
You've been…Thunderstruck!
He gasps after what felt like an eternity, trying to catch his breath as the
next person takes their turn. Someone hands him another cup full of liquid. He
watches the others chug their drinks as the song continues to play loudly in
the back.
Regulus marvels a little at how similar parties like this are. This is no
different from the other parties he'd gone to with Sirius, back before they ran
away. The same brainless guys and trampy girls, drinking far more than they
should. Dancing close. Laughing loudly. Breaking personal property.
Except instead of fading into the back, watching others make fools out of
themselves, he is the one thrust into the limelight. Everyone wants to have a
drink with him. Everyone wants to chat him up. Every girl wants to dance. He
wonders if this is what it's like to be Sirius, who made navigating social
gatherings like this look so easy. It isn't easy and he isn't sure he likes it.
Fate lands him with the last Thunderstruck in the song and he rolls his eyes at
the laughing group as he finishes his second drink in less than two minutes and
his fourth since he's arrived. He drops the empty cup on the table and stumbles
away before someone can suggest another round. The room is spinning slightly.
He shoves past a group of people crowding the hallway and up the stairs in
search of a bathroom. He tries the first door he comes to—blinking stupidly as
he realizes it is not a toilet but some sort of office. There is a desk and
shelves of books. Two pairs of eyes dart up when he enters. He recognizes Barty
and Thomas Avery, another boy from his year he's never spoken to but plays for
the school football team.
"Oh…sorry, thought this was a toilet."
"It's not!" Avery spits.
"Relax, Tommy, he's cool," Barty says and gestures Regulus over. "Come see what
I've got."
Regulus closes the door behind him and shuffles closer. Barty holds out a
plastic bag, half full with what looks like electric green pills. He can only
just make out an ornate letter M carved into each pill.
"Morsemordre?" he asks, surprised, and Barty gives Avery a smirk.
"I told you he was cool."
"Where did you get it?"
"Found it…in a manner of speaking. Idiots in my dad's office don't know how to
lock up evidence properly. I nicked it when I was bringing him lunch last
week." Barty sounds extraordinarily proud. As if he accomplished some heroic
feat. He continues. "I'm going to sell it. Tommy thinks they should go for
thirty or forty a piece."
"Oh." Regulus cannot think of anything else to say really.
"Here." Barty reaches into the bag and pulls out a single green pill. He holds
it out for Regulus to take. "First one is always free. You know where to get
more if you want it."
"Er…thanks." He drops the pill into his pocket and excuses himself. Barty gives
him a wink but Avery still looks suspicious.
He finds a bathroom, mercifully empty, and splashes cold water onto his face.
Why had he even come here? Sirius didn't care. He was probably at home shagging
Lupin at that very moment. Fuck, Regulus had practically given him a free pass.
He thinks of calling Sirius and asking to be brought home but the thought of
watching Sirius and Lupin make eyes at each other all night turns his stomach.
Then again that could be whiskey. How much had he drunk?
Swallowing some water straight from the tap, Regulus wipes his face with a hand
towel and exits, feeling marginally better but no less drunk. Things only spin
when he is moving. If he just stands still he should be fine.
Standing still, however, has its disadvantages. He is like easy prey and all
too quickly, someone latches onto his arm in a blur of blonde hair and pink eye
shadow.
"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Lucy sidles up close, linking her arm
with his. "C'mon, it's loud here. Let's go somewhere we can talk."
Regulus allows himself to be guided to an empty bedroom. The door closes and
the sound of music and laughter from downstairs becomes muted. He drops onto
the mattress, feeling incredibly sluggish and tired, when Lucy immediately
drapes herself across his lap and kisses him without any provocation.
Surprised, Regulus rears back, falling onto the mattress behind him with a soft
thump. Lucy giggles, her skirt hiking up her thighs as she straddles his hips,
and leans down to kiss him again. Her hair is tickling his nose.
"Thought you wanted to talk," he murmurs against her neck, kissing the silky
skin there. She smells nice. His hands move of their own accord up smooth, bare
thighs to cup the swell of her buttocks.
Clever green eyes lock onto his. "Don't be coy now," she says, plucking at the
buttons on his shirt. "Bet you thought you were so cool today with that line."
Regulus grins, squeezes malleable flesh with one hand, and buries the other in
her hair, pulling her closer. He likes the ways she moans when the tips of his
fingers find their way beneath the elastic of her panties and he kisses her
without hesitation. Hands moving to grip her waist, he flips them so he is
hovering over her now without breaking their lip-lock.
He smirks when she raises one eyebrow at him, blonde hair fanned across the bed
beneath them. "I am cool," he says, and he feels cool. Confident even. And for
the first time in weeks, he's not thinking of Sirius.
He doesn't think about Sirius as he's sliding his hands beneath her shirt.
Doesn't think about him when Lucy unbuckles his belt and he is leaving a nice
red welt on her neck. And when he's sliding into warm, wet heat for the first
time ever—jagged fingernails digging into his hips, pulling him closer,
deeper—Sirius is the last thing on his mind.
                                      oOo
Sirius finds Regulus in the sitting room. Empty cups are strewn across every
flat surface, and several people (children really) are dancing and laughing. He
is sprawled across a sofa, his lap full of a half-dressed, blonde girl.
Sirius feels his fists clench and he takes a deep breath, resisting the impulse
to push the vapid twat off his brother. This is good, he thinks, even if sends
a shard of pain through his heart. Regulus should be kissing girls at parties.
It's normal.
It is also perfectly normal for Sirius to take the piss at every opportune
moment. Swallowing around his raging jealously, he leans across the back of the
sofa, hoping he sounds as casual as he looks.
"Having fun?"
The girl attached to his brother's face jumps and tumbles backward off the
sofa, landing inelegantly on her bottom. Regulus's eyes, dazed and full of the
same dark lust Sirius has seen directed at him almost every night, meet his in
a glare. Sirius feels a shiver run down his spine.
"What're you doing 'ere?" Regulus demands, his voice thick with arousal and
probably too much alcohol.
"You called me, idiot," Sirius says, coming around the sofa to extend his hand
to the girl who is scrambling to button her shirt. He helps her to her feet and
she gives him a bashful smile. "About twenty minutes ago."
"Did I?"
Sirius rolls his eyes. "Sorry," he says to the girl and jerks his thumb towards
Regulus. "Older brother privileges, embarrassing him."
"Reggie never told me he had a brother," she says, smoothing her hair, and
Sirius does not miss the appreciative look she gives him.
Neither apparently does Regulus.
"C'mon, let's go," he growls, pulling Sirius rudely away from the girl. "See
you, Lucy."
Sirius stumbles after him, weaving through drunken teenagers with difficulty.
Suddenly Regulus stops, wobbling dangerously.
"Reg? Are you alright?"
"Um…" Regulus pales and then bolts through a door to his left.
He hears loud shrieking and follows. Two girls push past him out of the
bathroom, complaining loudly. Regulus is bent over the toilet, coughing with
each heave.
Sirius closes the door behind the retreating girls and places a hand between
Regulus's shaking shoulders, pushing hair away from his face.
"Alright?" he asks when the coughing subsides. Regulus makes a pitiful noise.
He locates a hand towel hanging from a rack by the sink and holds it under the
cold tap for a few seconds. "There you are," he says, cupping Regulus's chin
and wiping his face gently. "Feel better?"
"M' not a baby," Regulus slurs, but allows himself to be guided the sink.
"Of course you're not. Here rinse your mouth out. You smell like you've been
eating dead rats."
"Well they're not easy to eat live, are they?"
A bark of laughter escapes Sirius before he can help it. Regulus is grinning at
him in the mirror. Sirius throws the towel at him. "Hurry up and let's go.
Idiot."
                                      oOo
The car ride home is interesting, to say the least. Regulus, apparently, is a
very talkative drunk. His mouth is running almost non-stop as he sits in the
back seat with Sirius, poking and prodding him for emphasis.
He talks about the people from the party, tells Remus exactly why his car is an
utter piece of shit, and complains loudly that he is hungry. He also expounds,
in great detail, about Lucy Selwyn, the blonde he'd been caught with, who
apparently, "Is fucking in love with me, Sirius."
"Is she now?"
"Absolutely. I mean too many freckles, and when she laughs, God, I want to bang
my head against the wall but—"
"This is the girl who asked you out before? Is she your girlfriend now?"
Regulus makes a face and slaps Sirius's thigh. "Who said anything about
girlfriend? It's just sex. Honestly, Sirius…ooh, can we get chips?"
Remus catches his eye in the mirror, wry smile tugging at his lips. They pull
up to a shop and make short order of procuring chips, and Regulus is quiet for
the rest of the ride home.
                                      oOo
He is not sure how, but Regulus wakes up in his bed at home. It is still dark,
so it must not be much later. His head is still very fuzzy and he has not
changed out of the clothes he wore to Barty's.
He stumbles to the door to find Sirius and a glass of water because his mouth
tastes absolutely foul, and almost makes it to stairs when voices from below
make him stop.
"He's fifteen, Sirius. Sixteen in two months you said. Lighten up. How old were
you your first time?"
"It's different."
"Why?"
"Because…"
Regulus smirks. Is that jealousy he hears? Good. See how he likes it for a
change.
"You're just as bad as him," he hears Lupin say. "Let him have his fun. Just
make sure he's being safe and tell him not to break anyone's heart."
Sirius laughs. "We are Blacks, Remus. Other people's hearts are our
playthings."
"Was that a warning?"
There is a long pause, then a very quiet, "Maybe."
Regulus hears movement. He peeks over the banister, careful to remain silent,
but he cannot see more than their legs on the sofa. A pale hand reaches out to
rest on his brother's knee.
"Consider me warned then."
The unmistakable sounds of kissing carry up the landing. Sirius is whispering
too low for Regulus to hear. He takes a few more steps, wincing as the top
stair creaks, but they do not appear to hear him.
Lupin is in Sirius lap now, moaning quietly. Sirius hands are gripping Lupin's
hips. He can see their lips touching. A peek of tongue disappearing into the
other's mouth.
He sees Lupins's shirt torn from his shoulders and flutter to the ground. His
back is littered with pale, silvery scars. Sirius's hands are smoothing gently,
almost reverently over Lupin's chest. Regulus wonders how he got them and if
the front looks the same.
"Remus…"
"It's okay."
He leaves when Sirius's shirt joins Lupin's on the floor and he hears a low
murmur from his brother that sounds like, "You're gorgeous. You know that?"
Regulus crawls back into bed, feeling as if something has been ripped from his
body, leaving him helpless and scared and wondering if anyone had ever thought
to give Sirius a similar warning about breaking other people's hearts.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Notes
     non-con warning goes here
It is several moments the next morning before Regulus realizes why he feels so
wretched. His head aches and his stomach is rolling, though that could be
because his mouth tastes like he'd been licking wet garbage all night. He is
still tired, and his eyes feel puffy and raw.
Sirius is not asleep beside him, snuffling quietly, like he is every other
morning.
Right.
Everything comes back at once. The party. Drinking. Drinking a lot. Lucy
Selwyn. Sirius. Sirius and Lupin.
He rolls onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow, but the memory of
Sirius's hands on Lupin's body is burned into his mind's eye. Those perfect,
talented hands that Regulus had so unexpectedly fallen in love with. That mouth
that had made Regulus its slave. Sirius's eyes, his own eyes looking back at
him, making him feel wanted. Softly whispered words making him feel desired.
Loved. All belonged to Lupin now.
He'd been cast aside. Sirius had consumed him—owned him so completely—then
discarded him like so many childhood toys. Regulus remembers inheriting those
abandoned playthings. Never had he imagined he would become one of them.
There is a burning in his throat, a mouth-watering turn of his stomach, and
Regulus bolts from the bed and to the toilet, fast as lightning, where he is
violently sick. Unsteady legs collapse beneath him and he falls to the cold
floor. He hugs his knees to his chest, burying his face into the fabric of his
jeans.
It had been a mistake, letting Sirius use him. Thinking that by giving himself
to his brother, it would somehow keep him there. Regulus ought to have known
better. He'd known Sirius his whole life. Had seen how thoughtless he could be.
He takes a deep breath and wills the prickling in his eyes away. He refuses to
cry for even a second. He is not quite that pathetic.
When his breathing has returned to normal and his legs are willing to support
him once more, he hauls himself to his feet and begins undressing, deciding a
shower will do wonders for his mental and physical aches.
He turns out his pockets, placing random detritus from the night before onto
the countertop and tosses his jeans into the hamper. Wallet, several slips of
paper with phone numbers, and a tiny electric green pill. Frowning, he holds
the pill up to the light, catching the M carved into the center.
His sluggish memory pulls up the incident with Barty and Avery and the bag full
of Morsemordre. It looks harmless. Just a little green tablet. It almost looks
like a sweet. Of course he knows better now. He holds it over the toilet,
prepared to drop it and flush it along with the mess, but hesitates.
Tilting his head, he holds it between his thumb and forefinger, considering it
for another moment. The beginnings of an idea niggle at the back of his still
foggy brain. Could he do it though? He bites his lip, wavering uncertainly,
then places the pill beneath the cup that holds their toothbrushes.
The bathroom becomes full of steam. Regulus washes off all of the sweat and God
knows what else from his body, relaxing under the hot spray of water. He feels
marvelous, worlds better, when he is done, and leaves with plan almost fully in
place.
                                      oOo
He finds Lupin sipping tea at the table in the kitchen when he enters. His
shirt is rumpled and his hair is sticking up in the back. He is bent over a
newspaper but looks up when Regulus enters and smiles.
"Good morning. I made some tea," he says, nodding to the kettle on the stove
before returning to his paper.
Regulus scowls at Lupin's bowed head but helps himself to tea anyway and drops
two slices of bread into the toaster. He glances over at the clock, wondering
when Sirius will be up, and does a double-take. The time is wrong. Or rather it
is right, for once, but wrong since they've never taken it down and fixed it.
"What the hell?" he mutters, still watching the clock.
Lupin follows his gaze, frowning. "Oh, that was making me a bit mental, it
always being wrong. I didn't think you'd mind."
The mug makes a loud clatter when Regulus slams it onto the counter. Hot tea
sloshes onto his fingers but he ignores the burning. "Well I do! This isn't
your house, Lupin! Just because you're fucking my brother that doesn't mean you
can do whatever you please!"
"I'm sorry," Lupin says, looking surprised at Regulus's outburst. He recovers
quick enough, however, and gives Regulus a sympathetic look. "Look, Regulus, I
know you don't like me much—"
A contemptuous snort escapes Regulus before he can help it. "Understatement."
The look in Lupin's eye hardens. "But I'm not trying to take Sirius away from
you, so you can stop treating me like I've run over your puppy or something.
You're old enough to understand that he can have relationships and still be
your brother, I hope."
Regulus is seconds away from flying into a rage. Something he never does.
Sirius is the hot-tempered one. But Lupin is pushing it. He has no idea what
he's done. Sirius is all he has. He'll be damned if he is going to stand by and
let Lupin have him.
He takes several deep breaths. It won't do to start a fight with Lupin now. He
has a plan and it does not involve bringing the kettle down over Lupin's stupid
head.
The sound of loud yawning and shuffling feet draws their attention to Sirius,
who is stumbling into the kitchen, bare from the waist up. Regulus's eyes
immediately find a purple bruise just above his collarbone. He looks away
quickly and begins wiping up the spilled tea.
Sirius is oblivious to the tense atmosphere he's walked into. "Morning," he
says brightly. "Feeling alright, Reggie?"
Regulus nods. "Fine thanks."
Sirius ruffles his hair and moves past him, swiping a piece of toast and
fumbling with the jam jar. Regulus pours himself another cup. Lupin returns to
his paper.
"Did you fix the clock?" Sirius asks suddenly around a mouthful of toast.
Sirius is gazing at it, puzzled.
Regulus speaks without looking up from his tea. "Your boyfriend did actually."
A harsh cough rips from Sirius's throat, grey eyes wide, as he chokes briefly
on a bite of toast. He clears his throat loudly and awkward silence stretches
for several moments.
The paper ruffles loudly as Lupin turns a page, cutting through the silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would be a sore spot."
Sirius finishes his toast more carefully, dusting the crumbs from his hands. He
gives Regulus an unreadable look. "Of course it's not. It's just a clock.
Right, Reg?"
"Just a clock," Regulus says, watching Sirius take a seat beside Lupin at the
table. They share a smile that makes Regulus want to scream. Instead he takes
his remaining toast and tea up to his room to be alone.
                                      oOo
Sirius tries for a week to talk to Regulus and every time he loses his nerve.
He has been rehearsing this conversation in his head for a while now, but
whenever they're alone together every thought leaves his head except for how
badly he is going to hurt his brother. His brother who he promised to protect.
He never thought he would be the one Regulus needed protecting from.
So he hesitates.
Because even if being with Remus is amazing, even if he can easily see himself
loving the other boy, he loved Regulus first. Loved him longer. As a brother.
As a friend. His first friend.
From the second his parents had first placed Regulus in his arms Sirius loved
him. Their nanny used to tell him stories about it all the time. How he would
hover around anyone who held his infant brother like a watchful dog. How he
would glare at them when Regulus cried and yelled at them if they were doing it
wrong. How he would bring Regulus toys and treats he was far too small for.
Then they grew up. Sirius made new friends, but he never stopped caring about
his baby brother. Even when Regulus told him to, "Piss off! I don't need your
help!" whenever he tried to intervene because a bully had a smart mouth or
their parent's discipline became too much, Sirius was there to defend him.
And hadn't he, when serious threat of harm to his brother became apparent,
whisked him away in the dead of night?
Sirius adored his brother. Adores him still. But it's changed now. Regulus is
something else. Something between a brother and a lover. Completely
indefinable, horribly desirable, but no less loved by Sirius.
It's selfish, he knows, to want them both. Knows there is no option available
to him that will not leave him feeling guilty. And if it came down to it—if he
were forced to make a choice—Sirius knows he would choose Regulus.
Then there is Regulus who is so God damned unreadable lately. Sirius doesn't
know what to expect. He'd prefer Regulus just lay into him. Tell him off. Make
Sirius feel like the prick he is.
But Regulus is almost normal. He doesn't say anything about the change in his
relationship with Remus. Just carries on as if nothing has happened. Regulus
doesn't stay in the room long whenever Sirius and Remus are together, which is
the only hint at all Sirius gets that it is bothering him. Or maybe, the naïve
part of his brain thinks, he just wants to give them some privacy?
They're sharing a quiet dinner, just the two of them. Remus is working an extra
shift and won't be joining. It is the perfect moment. Sirius desperately wants
to bridge the gulf that has begun separating them from the moment he first
kissed Remus, but he doesn't know how. Doesn't know what to say that will make
everything better again.
So instead he finishes the meal Regulus has made for them in silence, except
for the occasional comment about the food. "This is really good, Regulus. Where
did we get the wine?"
Regulus sips from his own glass and shrugs. "Dunno. I thought you bought it."
                                      oOo
Nervousness twists Regulus's stomach into knots as he watches Sirius finish his
drink. There is a part of him, very small, that is disgusted with himself for
what he is about to do. But the larger part, the part that cannot bear to lose
Sirius to anyone, is speaking louder, more persuasively in his ear.
He isn't really sure what the Morsemordre is going to do to him. He just needs
Sirius to be a little more relaxed. Open to suggestion. This has to work.
Regulus finishes his own glass quickly. Though unlaced with anything sinister,
it still warms him from head to toe, making his limbs feel loose and calming
him slightly.
They are cleaning up the remains of their dinner when the first signs of the
drug taking effect hit Sirius. He stumbles and leans heavily on the counter,
brows furrowed. Regulus takes the stack of plates from him.
"Are you alright?" Regulus tentatively asks.
Sirius runs a hand over his face and gives a lopsided smile. "I'm…yeah, fine."
The dark of Sirius's pupils are wide and sparkling. Regulus steps closer, wraps
his fingers around Sirius's wrist, feeling the fluttering pulse there. "Too
much wine? Never took you for a lightweight."
"Am not," Sirius says and laughs, though no one has said anything very funny.
He pokes Regulus's tummy. "You're the lightweight, titchy thing."
He steps even closer, letting Sirius's wrist drop to his side. They are nose to
nose. "I'm near as tall as you now."
Sirius's hands find his waist, half-lidded eyes trained on Regulus's lips.
"Little Reggie is all grown up then."
"Yes," Regulus says, and presses his lips gently to Sirius's. "I am."
                                      oOo
Sirius is not sure how he went from agonizing over how to let Regulus down
gently to sticking his tongue down his throat, but he is pinning Regulus to the
counter, tugging at his clothes and kissing him for all he's worth. All the
reasons he why this shouldn't happen anymore are flying from his head until
there is only Regulus. Lovely, dark Regulus.
He moans when his hands smooth across bare skin and Regulus gasps, spreading
his legs enough for Sirius to wedge a knee between them. Fuck, he'd forgotten
how good this was. It hadn't even been more than a week but Sirius claims his
brother's mouth, devours him like it's been years.
His cock is hard and straining painfully against his jeans but he grinds
against the body beneath him, shuddering when he connects with Regulus's hip.
Regulus's fingers are digging into his arms, pulling him closer, as he meets
Sirius's rolling hips.
Maybe he is a lightweight, or maybe the wine is just affecting him more than
usual tonight, but he is hyper-aware of every little thing. The warmth of
Regulus's mouth. Soft lips. Smooth tongue. Skin like silk against the pads of
his fingers and warm. God, he is so warm and yet he can feel the tiny bumps of
gooseflesh where ever his hands touch.
Regulus is trailing kisses along his throat, whispering his name hotly against
his neck. "Sirius…"
The sound sends lust pounding through his veins like drums. He kisses every
available part of his brother he can find—eyes, lips, cheeks, his
hair—punctuating each press of lips with a husky, "Reg," and thrust of his
hips.
His tongue feels numb and lazy. He is so warm, languid, and everything
shimmers. Regulus's skin is practically glowing and the light is dancing in his
hair. Slate-grey eyes lock onto his, darkly inviting. "Bed?"
Sirius can do no more than nod.
                                      oOo
It had been much easier than he expected, Regulus reflects when his back
presses against the mattress of his bed. Their bed. Sirius is eager. Hands
everywhere. Lips locked with his. Not that Regulus is complaining.
They can't get out of their clothes fast enough. Sirius, whose movements are
just the tiniest bit slow, becomes tangled in his shirt as he pulls it over his
head. Regulus laughs and helps him, his fingers lingering on the smooth muscles
of his chest. He runs the pad of his thumb across one hardened nipple, making
Sirius gasp and flex his hips down, naked cock dragging deliciously across
Regulus's.
Regulus cannot stop a loud cry from escaping him when Sirius does it again, and
they quickly fall into a furious rhythm, writhing against each other, rutting
like animals. The bed groans in sympathy. Regulus's hands clutch at Sirius's
hips, trying to stop him but losing himself in mind-numbing pleasure that makes
heat twist in his belly.
"S-Sirius…wait…" Regulus pants and tries to focus. They'll both finish too soon
if they keep going and then risk ruining his plan. "Sirius, wait! I want—"
Sirius leans forward, hips slowing, and biting firmly on the skin below his
ear. "What do you want, Reggie?"
He buries his fingers into Sirius's dark locks and kisses him, greedily sucking
Sirius's tongue into his mouth. Breaking away, he places licking bites on
Sirius neck, and grins when he hears a low growl of approval. He tilts his head
back and whispers against Sirius's jaw. "I want you to fuck me."
Surprised grey eyes meet his. Sirius is watching him, swollen red mouth hanging
open slightly. He sees Sirius swallow and kisses him again before Sirius has
time to think about why they shouldn't.
He knows Sirius wants it. He's seen the look in Sirius's eye when his fingers
wandered a bit too far, when a careless thrust had brought him sliding between
Regulus's cheeks, pushing tentatively against his entrance. It had never been
spoken but they had a silent agreement: that was going too far.
But now it's necessary. He'll make Sirius want it. Make himself so irresistible
that Sirius will forget all about Lupin. Then it will just be the two of them.
Like it's supposed to be. Like Sirius promised.
He runs a flat palm along Sirius's length, squeezing the soft flesh gently.
Sirius's eyes drift shut and he bites down on his lip, moaning softly. Regulus
waits until his eyes are open and watching him again. "Fuck me, Sirius.
Please."
"Yes." Sirius pushes against Regulus's hand and bends to kiss him. "Yes,
Regulus."
Regulus smiles.
                                      oOo
Everything has gone fuzzy. The thought of resisting never even crosses his
mind. How can he when Regulus is naked and writhing and begging Sirius to fuck
him? When his cock is throbbing and Regulus's hands are touching him.
There is a reason, a very good reason why they shouldn't do this, but for the
life of him, he cannot think of what it is. All he sees is his brother, his
gorgeous brother, with his knees pulled up to his chest, blush pink cock
resting heavy against his navel, shamelessly exposing himself.
They fumble briefly with a bottle of lube. Where had Regulus even gotten it?
Regulus's hand smoothes the cool liquid over his heated flesh, guiding him
between his legs. "I'm ready. Just do it."
He has no idea what Regulus means, nor does he care, because in the next second
he is sliding to impossibly tight, velvety soft heat and his brain shuts down
completely. Regulus gasps, his eyes squeezing shut, and digs his fingers into
Sirius's hips.
All the air is sucked from his lungs as he pushes deeper, and he cannot breathe
until he slides completely home, his face pressed into Regulus's neck. Slowly,
Regulus wraps long, slender legs around his waist. There is broken whisper in
his ear of Siriusand he is lost.
Sirius drives out and in again at a steady pace, not too hard or too fast—he is
aware enough to be mindful of hurting Regulus—but Regulus is having none of it.
The heels of his feet dig into the small of Sirius's back, urging him forward,
and Sirius cannot resist the alluring pull of Regulus's body on every backward
thrust, slamming in faster and deeper each time.
It is slick and hot and messy and Regulus is utterly beautiful, dark hair
sticking to his face, chest heaving, begging Sirius for more. Harder. It is too
much. Too good. Sirius feels the thick, rapid pulse in his belly approaching
far too quickly and knows he is seconds away from release.
Regulus reaches between their bodies to touch himself, but Sirius knocks his
hand away, wrapping his fingers around the swollen flesh and tugging without
missing a stroke. He watches, dazed, when Regulus's back arches off the bed,
screaming, there, yes, Sirius, and Sirius kisses him to shut him up. He is only
just holding onto his control.
It goes on for only moments longer before Regulus's eyes squeeze shut. He bucks
wildly into Sirius's hand, catching Sirius's lip between his teeth as he gives
one final cry, and spills over Sirius's fingers and onto his belly. The warm
pulsing between his fingers and the tightening of Regulus's body around his
cock sends Sirius tumbling right over the edge with him.
                                      oOo
Hey, Sirius, sorry about last night. Pete's mum isn't well and someone needs to
cover his shifts and (a sigh) I could always use the extra money. I shouldn't
be too late tonight though. Let me take you to dinner to make it up? Call me.
Regulus sips from his cup, thoughtful for a moment, then presses the delete
button on the machine. He stretches, feeling a delightful pull on his taxed
muscles and grins. It's still early, for Sirius, but perhaps Regulus can coax
him into waking.
***** Chapter 13 *****
And just like that, Sirius is his. The power he holds over his brother is
intoxicating. With nothing more than a crook of his finger he can have Sirius
on his knees. It's exhilarating.
The sex is not at all awful like he expected either. Going into it, he expected
it to be repulsive, disgusting. Why anyone would want a cock there was
mindboggling. But Sirius is one of those infuriating people who are good at
everything without really trying, and the sex is nothing short of heavenly.
He tries not to let Sirius know how much he enjoys it and give up even a shred
of his coveted power, but he is sure he fails occasionally when he begs Sirius
for more. Harder. The tormented look in Sirius's eyes when he gives it to him
feels like winning.
Of course he hasn't completely won. Not yet anyway. But he will. He continues
to delete Lupin's messages. Regulus figures it's only a matter of time before
he just drops by unexpectedly, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.
For now he distracts Sirius as much and as often has he can.
They do not do it all the time. They may be teenagers but even Regulus knows
they have their limits. When they aren't fucking or working, in Sirius's
case—school has ended for Regulus and he has nothing much to do but hang around
the house—they go out. Regulus claims he is bored and begs Sirius to take him
places. Really he is just trying to occupy Sirius's time so there is no room
whatsoever for him to think about anything or anyone else.
Sometimes they go to dinner. They go to the cinema a few times. They even go
shopping, something both brothers realized they missed when they had a
seemingly endless amount of funds at their disposal. Sirius has put enough away
to allow them to splurge a little and they both enjoy trying on new clothes,
browsing for household items, and new books. Regulus has to practically drag
Sirius away when they come across a motorbike for sale outside repair shop.
"Did you see her, Reg?"
"I did."
"Bloody gorgeous. Fuck, I miss my bike."
At home, Regulus asks Sirius to read to him. He will sit with his head on
Sirius's shoulder or in his lap and let the smooth tenor of Sirius's voice and
the long fingers stroking his hair lull him to sleep. It is perfect. Nothing
has ever felt so right before, and for the first time in months—maybe even his
whole life—he is happy.
Sometimes he'll lie beside Sirius in the early hours of the morning, watching
him sleep, and think this must be what love feels like. He feels a strange
mixture of affection for his brother and shame at what he's done. He has
tricked, manipulated Sirius to get him here, and continues to hold him hostage.
How could he? He never used to do things like this. Then he remembers how much
it hurt to watch Sirius and Lupin together and his resolve hardens once more.
Sirius is his now. All that matters is that Sirius is his.
                                      oOo
Remus Lupin does, as Regulus imagined he would, drop by unannounced and most
unwelcome several days later. Sirius is thankfully asleep when the doorbell
rings so Regulus is the one to answer. Lupin looks equally unhappy to see him
but does a better job of hiding it.
"Hello, Regulus. Is Sirius around?"
"He's asleep."
"Do you mind waking him? I need to speak with him."
There isn't a good way to tell Lupin no without arousing suspicion, so Regulus
opens the door wider and lets him step inside.
"I'll go get him."
"Thank you," Lupin says, and shrugs out of his jacket, throwing it over an
armchair like he owns the place. This infuriates Regulus slightly but he does
not comment as he ascends the stairs to wake his brother.
Sirius is sprawled across the bed, clad only in boxers that are slipping
dangerously low on his hips. Kneeling beside him on the bed, Regulus runs his
fingers through the hair below Sirius's navel and kisses him lightly on the
lips.
"Nggf, Reg," Sirius mumbles.
"Eloquent as always," he mutters, tapping Sirius's chest. "Wake up you lazy
sod. You have a visitor."
Regulus grins when Sirius's arms wrap around him, pulling so he is lying atop
his brother. There is an erection jabbing into his hip and a lazy smile pressed
into his neck. "Mmmm, Reg. Love when you wake me up like this."
"Much as I would love to keep this up, Lupin is downstairs."
Sirius's voice is much more alert. "Remus?"
Regulus rolls off and reaches for a discarded pair of jeans and a shirt beside
the bed. Sirius accepts the garments, dressing quickly. There is something
tense about the set of his shoulders and Regulus wonders what exactly he is
going to say to Lupin.
Despite everything they've done, Regulus still can't help but worry a little.
He wants to ask Sirius. Just to confirm that they're still…together. He
doesn't. Just watches Sirius stand and walk out of the door feeling like his
heart is caught in a vice.
                                      oOo
"Hey."
Remus turns when he enters the room. It was too much to hope he would simply
smile and ask Sirius how he's been. There is a frown firmly in place and his
arms are crossed defensively over his chest.
He thinks it's best not to act as guilty as he feels, and reaches for Remus
anyway, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. Something flickers in the brown of
Remus's eyes for a moment and the guilt swimming in his stomach intensifies.
Remus does not hold him in suspense for long.
"What's been going on, Sirius?"
"Nothing."
Remus huffs impatiently. "Why have you been ignoring me then?"
"I haven't. I'm just…really busy."
"Busy with what? I know you don't work all the time. You never answer when I
call. I tried coming by last night and you weren't in."
Sirius rubs his face. "Look…I just woke up. C'mon, Reg probably made tea."
He leads Remus into the kitchen where sure enough, there is a warm kettle
waiting. Somehow Regulus always has tea waiting for him when he wakes. He's
thoughtful like that, Regulus. It touches a place in Sirius's heart that is
still very confused and he tries to ignore it as he pours Remus and himself a
cup.
"You look like shit," Remus says when they're seated at the table. "Have you
been ill?"
Sirius shakes his head then wishes he'd said yes because that would be a far
better than telling Remus he'd been buried balls deep inside his little brother
for the last week and a half.
"Did you get my messages at least?"
"I—" Messages? He hasn't seen any waiting on the machine and Regulus hasn't
given him any. Ah. Something clicks into place there. "Yeah, just haven't had
time to get—"
"Could you stop with that line? I don't buy it for a second."
"Oh, am I interrupting?" Regulus hesitates, looking uneasily between them.
Sirius glares. Regulus knows damn well he's interrupting something, but it is
Remus who speaks. "Yes, actually, you are. If you could please give us a few
minutes?"
Regulus backs out of the kitchen, hands up in mock surrender, but his eyes are
fixed on Sirius's.
"So that's it then? He asked you to stop seeing me and you—"
"No."
"What then?"
"It's…I've been thinking and…Reg and I are on our own, Remus. He needs me and I
can't be selfish anymore. I can't keep doing things without thinking about how
it affects him. It's just not the right time for me to be involved with anyone.
I'm sorry."
"I am too."
Sirius feels awful. Remus is wonderful. So understanding. Since his birthday,
Sirius has been floundering, making one stupid mistake after another. Being
with Remus felt like a step in the right direction.
But this is the right thing to do. Remus does not deserve to be caught in the
middle of this mess he's created. Better to send him away before things get
even more complicated. Or he finds out. Sirius somehow doubts Remus will be
understanding about the true nature of his relationship with Regulus.
"I'll go then." Remus rises, his tea completely untouched.
Sirius walks him to the door. He tries to think of something to say in the
thirty seconds it takes to reach the door but he comes up with nothing except,
"See you."
Remus hesitates. His fingers twitch like he might reach for Sirius, but all he
says is, "Goodbye, Sirius."
                                      oOo
The door closes and Regulus can breathe again. Lupin is gone. For good this
time. Regulus has won. A mad euphoria sends him into a fit of laughter and
releases all remaining tension from his body. He's won. He never wins anything.
Standing, he tries to suppress the grin splitting his face, and goes downstairs
to collect his prize.
                                      oOo
Sirius feels the sofa dip beside him and a hand on the small of his back. He
doesn't look up from his hunched position, elbows on his knees, hands fisted in
his hair.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine, Regulus."
"What did Lupin want?"
"What do you think?" Sirius growls, and the hand on his back is removed.
"Sirius…"
"Don't play innocent now, Reggie. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Sirius
stands, glaring down at his younger brother who has the nerve to look confused.
"What did you do? Did you delete the messages he left?"
Pink flashes across Regulus's cheeks but he does not look away from Sirius's
stony gaze.
"I can't believe I didn't see this sooner. You've been so needy lately. Wanting
me to take you places, constantly after my attention—"
Regulus launches to his feet, matching Sirius's anger. "You weren't exactly
complaining when you were fucking me through the mattress last night!"
"Don't worry," Sirius says harshly. "It won't be happening again."
Something like panic flits across Regulus's face. "Why?"
Sirius almost crumbles at the vulnerability he hears in the question. He takes
a deep breath, trying to release the anger coursing through his veins. "It's
over, Reg. We're done…doing that."
"But…" Regulus shakes his head, and Sirius can see tears forming in his eyes,
threatening to spill over. "You love me."
Never one to resist a crying Regulus, Sirius pulls him into a hug, pressing
Regulus's head into his shoulder. He places a kiss into his hair when he feels
Regulus's arms wrapping around his torso.
"Of course I love you, Reg. More than anything. That's exactly why this needs
to stop. Look at what it's done to you."
Regulus looks up, face splotchy and red. "What do you mean?"
"You're…possessive. Manipulative. Fuck, I can't even have a conversation with a
friend—"
"He was more than a friend!"
"And you're jealous!"
"Because you're mine!"
"Regulus…"
"I love you, Sirius, and I'm yours. That makes you mine too."
His shirt is balled in Regulus's fists and his lips are cold when they touch
his. Sirius knows he shouldn't but he can't stop from kissing him back. It's so
easy, slipping Regulus's shirt from his shoulders. Sucking until a bruise forms
on his neck. Pushing him back until they tumble onto the sofa. Pressing their
hips together.
Regulus is still crying. It is oddly beautiful. Sirius kisses his eyelids,
tasting salt as he tries to stem the flow. Fingers thread through his hair and
they're moving together and Sirius thinks, just this last time.
"Please, Sirius…please don't l—"
"What is going on here?"
Sirius's stomach plummets and he immediately pulls away from Regulus who sits
up, wiping his face on his sleeve and frantically doing up the buttons. Remus
is standing in the doorway watching them with wide eyes.
"Remus! What are you doing here?"
Of all the ways for Remus to catch them together, Regulus crying and pleading
with him is possibly the worst. At least they're mostly dressed.
Remus looks at Regulus who is still composing himself. "I left my
jacket…Regulus, are you alright?"
"Fine, thank you."
Sirius approaches Remus carefully. "I swear it's not what you think. Let me
explain…"
Surprise is quickly wearing off to be replaced by anger and disgust. Remus is
giving him a look of utmost loathing. "Explain what? That you're…he's a child,
for God's sake!"
"I'm not!" Regulus says, standing.
"Shut up, Regulus," Sirius hisses.
"Oh God, he's your brother."
"Remus…"
"All this time you were going on about taking care of him. Protecting him. This
is how you do it?"
"Please, Remus, listen…"
Remus waits expectantly but Sirius really can't think of anything to say. When
several moments go by in silence, Remus nods and turns to Regulus.
"Right. Regulus, go get your things. Some clothes and stuff. I'll take you—"
Regulus gives him an incredulous look. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"But…" Remus is glaring daggers at Sirius but speaks to Regulus in a much
softer tone. "You don't have to stay here. If he's…abusing you."
"He's not. Thank you for your concern, Lupin, but it's none of your business."
"Did he tell you he loves you?" Remus asks bitterly. "That you were special?
Regulus, please, I know what it's like to have someone take advantage of you
like that. Let me help you."
Shame, like he'd never felt before, fills Sirius until he thinks he might choke
on it. He isn't like that man who'd hurt Remus, is he? Regulus wanted it too.
He feels dirty just thinking it.
"Remus, I swear it's not like that. I know," he says, cutting of Remus's
objection. "I know this looks bad, but I'd never"—take advantage? Isn't that
what he'd done from day one? Did it matter if Regulus had been willing? He all
but pleads with Remus. "Look, this just happened one day. I never meant for it
to go this far. It's just messing around. I swear. I would die before I hurt
him. You have to believe me."
For the first time since he arrived, Remus falters. His mouth works wordlessly
for few seconds, glancing between the two brothers, and Sirius dares to hope he
can talk his way out of this when Regulus speaks.
"He's lying."
Sirius feels like someone has just signed his own death warrant. He stares at
his brother who looks the part of the victim perfectly. Rumbled shirt, tear
tracks staining his cheeks, hugging his arms to his chest—Sirius can almost see
the heartbreak in his eyes.
"He does hurt me. That's all he knows how to do," Regulus says before storming
past Remus and up the stairs.
"Regulus!"
The door slamming is an eloquent reply.
"I'm out of here," Remus says, collecting his jacket and turning to the door.
"Remus…"
Fuck, why can't he form a sentence all of a sudden?
Remus seems to have the answer, however. "There's nothing you can say, Sirius.
This is…there are no words for what this is. I had this idea about you. I
thought you were so great. Fuck, I almost fell for you and now…now I don't know
what to think."
"Remus, wait…"
"Goodbye."
Then Remus is gone and Sirius is left to wonder over what has happened and
wishes he'd never woken up if this is all the thanks he gets for it.
                                      oOo
Sirius steers clear of Regulus for as long as he possibly can. It's just
messing around. How could he have said that? Act as if Regulus was nothing but
a means for getting off. He's at a loss for what to do.
And Remus…
Would he go to the police? No one is banging on their door, which is a small
comfort for now. It's Remus's word against theirs anyway. Not that it makes him
feel better, knowing that. They don't need any attention from the police.
When he is through acting like a coward sometime around early evening, he slips
into the dark bedroom and pads quietly to the lump curled up beneath the
sheets.
"Regulus, are you awake?"
Regulus doesn't stir. Placing a hand on Regulus's shoulder, he gives it a shake
and gasps when it gives way to something soft and squashy. He rips the sheet
back to discover a stack of pillows and note written in Regulus's neat script.
                                    Sirius,
 I meant it when I said I love you. It is clear from your harsh words earlier
                     today that the feeling is not mutual.
                It would be best if you did not try to find me.
                            Regulus Arcturus Black
                                      oOo
Remus picks up the third time he calls.
"Sirius, I swear to God—"
"Remus, please, you've got to help me."
Something in his voice—desperation, fear, hysteria—seems to resonate because
Remus says quietly. "What's happened?"
"Regulus is gone."
***** Chapter 14 *****
This was a stupid idea. Where the hell was he going to go? What had possessed
him to up and run away like this? He's really been spending too much time with
Sirius. Impulsive behavior was never his style. Regulus hugs his bag and
watches the buildings flying past the window.
He could call his parents. They'd come get him, he's sure. Or send someone to
get him at the very least. But there is nothing back there for him except a
mark on his skin and a lifetime of memories with his brother. The idea is not
entirely appealing.
Sirius is such a bastard. It's just messing around. Honestly. Was it too much
to admit that they loved each other? That it meant more that a quick fuck? Then
again, Regulus considers, perhaps it only meant more to him.
He wonders if Sirius is worried. If Sirius will look for him. He feels suddenly
awful. Sirius is probably frantic. Regulus recalls the shattered noses and
blackened eyes of the thugs who'd dared to jump him after school that one day,
so long ago now. How quickly Sirius had rushed to defend him.
He should go back. Tell Sirius he didn't mean it. They could figure things out
together.
The bus stops and several people are getting off. Regulus actually takes in the
buildings outside his window. This area is familiar. Barty lives only a few
streets over. Regulus hurries towards the exit before the driver can take off
again.
                                      oOo
"Thank you, Remus."
"Stop thanking me. I'm not doing this for you."
There is nothing but the sound of other vehicles passing them and the gentle
whine of Remus's car as it turns a corner. What if they don't find him? Sirius
refuses to even think it.
He wishes Remus would look at him. Remus won't even meet his eye and when he
does, it is closed off. As if Remus can't even to be bothered to care. The
anger from earlier would be nice compared to this cold disregard.
It's not that he thinks Remus is wrong. Remus is entitled to feel how he feels.
But if he knew…
"I know you think I'm a monster, Remus," Sirius says quietly, clearing the
nervousness from his throat with a quick cough, "but it's really not as bad as
you think."
Remus says nothing and Sirius takes that as good sign.
"We…ever since we left home, Reg and I…we've become…closer. We were very close
when we were younger, you know. But here it's like, he's all I have and I'm all
he has."
He might as well not be talking for all that Remus acknowledges him but he
continues anyway.
"He's so funny, Remus. You have no idea. I know he's been a bastard to you—he
drives me up the wall sometimes too—but if you really knew him…"
Remus lights a cigarette when they hit a red light and cracks his window, still
seemingly deaf to Sirius's prattle.
"We played all the time when we were little. We built castles and slew dragons
and played pranks on the staff and our cousins. We were inseparable until I met
James. James is my best mate from home, did I ever tell you about him? James is
great. I think Reg hated him though."
"So it wasn't just me then," Remus says, taking another long drag. "He's
jealous of all your friends."
"Maybe…"
Exasperated, Remus hits the accelerator a little harder than necessary, jerking
the car forward. "You're such an idiot."
Sirius thinks it's very true. How did he miss it all this time? Reg had felt
like James was taking his place as Sirius's brother. Did he think Remus was
taking his place as…something more?
"This thing between me and him…it just happened one night, Remus. And then it
was like…we needed each other." Remus makes a disbelieving noise and Sirius
sighs. "I don't expect you to understand but you have to believe me, I'm not
forcing him. I would never. I…I…"
Remus's stony demeanor cracks just the tiniest bit and he spares Sirius an
uneasy glance. "Sirius, are you…in love with him?"
The question is much harder to answer than he expects. He shakes his head. "I
love him. Is there a difference?"
Something in Remus's eyes tells him that, yes, there is a difference. The car
stops before he has time to think on it further. Nerves still raw from his
earlier panic, Sirius lets Remus guide him inside the train station and to the
ticket desk.
The woman behind the counter smiles. "May I help you?"
"We're looking for someone."
 
                                      oOo
"Hey, Reg! What's up?"
Barty greets Regulus like they're old pals when he answers the door. Regulus
refrains from pointing out that one group project and a brief conversation at a
party hardly makes them friends, however, and gives his most winning smile.
Shrugging, he says, "Not much. I er…had a fight with my brother. I was looking
for place to crash until he cools off."
If this is in any way odd, Barty does not mention it. He gestures Regulus in
with a "Sure thing, mate," and Regulus follows Barty up the stairs.
They stop at a door and Barty turns. It's the first time he's seen the normally
overconfident boy look the least bit anxious. "Let me ask my dad. He has some
guys over from his office tonight, just a sec."
Barty knocks before opening the door. The sounds of serious conversation cut
off abruptly and a stern voice asks, "What is it, Barty? You know I'm busy this
evening."
"Sorry, sir. Is it alright if I have a friend stay over?"
There is a hardly a pause before the voice dismissively says, "You may. My
apologies, Kingsley."
The door is closing when a deep voice rumbles something in return and Regulus
feels his blood run cold. No. It couldn't be. But then, Kingsley can't be a
common name.
Mind racing, he follows Barty to his room and places his bag on the floor.
"So…" Barty says, flopping onto his bed and pulling a remote control from under
the bedding to flip the television set off. "Do you and your brother get into a
lot of fights?"
"No," Regulus says distractedly, his mind racing to think of an excuse to leave
that won't look odd or suspicious. Perhaps he can feign a phone call to Sirius?
Or really call Sirius.
Barty is frowning. "He seemed cross when he picked you up from the party that
one night."
"Did he?"
"Someone said he pushed Lucy. Has a temper does he?"
Regulus sighs. "Yeah, sometimes. He doesn't hit me or anything if that's what
you're suggesting. And he didn't push Lucy, she fell."
"Oh," is all Barty says.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to stay? Your dad didn't sound too happy."
Regulus decides if he can turn the conversation around he can get something
useful about the man speaking with Mr. Crouch.
Barty waves a hand. "He's never happy. You should have seen him when they found
out all that M went missing. Ballistic."
Going ballistic because a bag full of illicit substance went missing seems like
a fairly reasonable reaction, but Regulus doesn't say so. "So those guys were
in there about the M?"
"No, he's meeting with a new transfer from missing persons, hasn't shut up
about him for weeks actually. Anyway, forget about them, are you hungry?"
Just the opposite, Regulus feels like his stomach is full of ice, but he nods.
"Yeah, sure."
 
                                      oOo
It was a long shot anyway. No one had seen Regulus at the train station, or
they had been too busy to notice him if he had been there at all. Remus's
reassuring attitude keeps Sirius from falling into complete despair.
They even follow a few buses on the route Regulus normally takes to school to
question the drivers but they don't remember seeing Regulus either.
"We'll find him, Sirius. Let's go back to your place. He might have gone home.
A lot of times runaways do after they've calmed down."
"I didn't," he mutters but he hopes so anyway.
 
                                      oOo
Regulus and Barty spend a solid hour and a half getting pizza and wandering
around the shops near his house. Enough time, Regulus hopes, for Mr. Crouch to
finish his meeting. Barty isn't as much of a tosser as Regulus originally
thought, even if he did come off a little self-important, and Regulus manages
to have a decent time talking with him despite his nerves.
The sun has set completely when they head back. Barty suggests drinks and a
film in his room and Regulus agrees.
"I'll just call my brother and let him know I'm staying here."
Once Barty disappears into the kitchen, Regulus hurries upstairs to retrieve
his bag and make a break for it. He'll just tell Barty…fuck Regulus doesn't
have to explain anything. They aren't really friends.
He tiptoes past Mr. Crouch's office, listening for any sign of people stirring
but hears nothing. Perhaps the meeting is over and the coast is clear? Either
way, Regulus isn't taking his chances. He'll go straight home, tell Sirius, and
they'll figure it out from there.
He makes it to Barty's room and retrieves his bag, hurrying silently back down
the hall, when the door handle rattles and two men step out. A deep voice is
saying, "Yes, Mr. Crouch, thank you," and panics floods Regulus's veins, making
his legs wobble.
"Wonderful, Kingsley. Tomorrow we'll—oh,"
His foot catches on the rug as he turns to head back and he stumbles into Mr.
Crouch who catches him by the elbow.
"Sorry," Regulus says ducking his head. "I, er…"
"You must be Barty's friend," Mr. Crouch says.
Regulus nods. "Yes."
"Look at me when you're speaking, boy. What is your name?"
Regulus looks up, meeting the stern face of Mr. Crouch, and hears an intake of
breath from the man beside him.
"Regulus Black."
"Fuck," Regulus whispers and bolts passed the two men before they can stop him.
One of them catches his bag and tries to haul him back, but Regulus lets it
slide from his shoulder and keeps running, taking the stairs two and three at a
time.
"Whoa, what the hell?" Barty swears when Regulus knocks into him coming up the
stairs bearing drinks.
He hears glass breaking and Mr. Crouch shouting but ignores this as he makes it
to the door and flees from the house without looking back.
 
                                      oOo
"We should go to the police."
Sirius feels Remus's arms around his shoulder and leans into the other boy.
Regulus was not home when they arrived. It is then that the thought that Sirius
may never see Regulus again crosses his mind. It is unbearable.
"Remus…I have to find him. I can't…" Burning pain fills Sirius's throat and it
has become painful to even draw breath. "Oh God. What if—"
Hands cup his face, forcing him to look into sympathetic brown eyes, and,
slowly, the hysteria fades.
Remus's voice is soft when he speaks. "Don't, Sirius. You can't think like
that. We should go to the police."
"Our parents have to still be looking for us. If we go to the police—"
"It's a big city, Sirius."
"I know."
"The longer we wait the less likely—" Remus stops at Sirius's stricken look.
"Okay…alright but we can't do this alone. I have a few favors I can call in.
We'll keep looking."
 
                                      oOo
Regulus runs blindly for what feels like hours. Barty's house is ages away by
the time he stops, collapsing against the wall of a building. What a fucking
disaster. He has no idea where he is. Music is muffled and pounding from the
next building over. A club probably. Many of the people passing him on the
street are talking or laughing loudly, dressed in trendy outfits.
"You alright, love?" a man to his left asks. He is nothing more than a leather
jacket and a cloud of cigarette smoke leaning against the wall beside him.
"Fine, thanks," Regulus manages and pushes himself off the wall, walking away
from the man. He breaths easier when he glances back and sees the man hasn't
followed. Why is everyone in London so strange?
Yellow lights of taxicabs flash through the streets like angels from heaven as
far as Regulus is concerned. He's never hailed a cab before but it can't be
that difficult. In fact, he hardly waits for a minute before a car pulls up to
the curb and Regulus climbs inside.
It smells of cigarettes and there is a discolored patch of cloth on the seat
that Regulus has misgivings about, but it's a ride home. The man in the front
watches him through the rearview. "Where to?"
"Grimmauld Place? Number twelve."
The driver nods and the car is moving and Regulus can finally relax. It seems
like ages since he's seen Sirius. He can hardly wait to be home and in Sirius's
arms again. The argument from earlier seems so stupid now. He'd overreacted.
He is pulled from his brief reunion fantasy when the car pulls into an alley
and off the main road. Regulus sit ups. "Where are you going?"
He does not get an answer. Instead the car stops and the man in the leather
jacket from before steps out of the shadows. Regulus scrambles to the other
side when the man gets in and tugs on the door handle but it's locked.
"Let me out! I haven't got any money so just let me go!"
"Funny how they always think we want money, eh, Scabe?" the driver says.
The man beside him grins and shifts closer. Regulus's hand is flying before he
even realizes it, catching the man hard on the jaw. He kicks and punches,
scratches and bites, but the other man is bigger and stronger and pins him to
the cabin floor. He uncaps a needle with his teeth and sticks Regulus in the
neck before he can resist further and the world goes comfortably black.
 
                                      oOo
The sound of voices speaking from very far away slowly sinks into Regulus's
brain.
"Blimey he looks like that one what got away."
"They're all the same. Maybe it is him, maybe it isn't. Doesn't matter," a
second voice says. Regulus feels fingers threading through his hair. "Oh, but
he is pretty. Shame to give him up so soon. Might have been fun to keep around
for a while."
"You know they pay more when they're fresh."
He tries to sit up. "S-Sirius?"
"You bet your pretty little arse this is serious," says one of the voices,
shoving him back onto the cold, hard surface on which he is laying. "Here hand
me that gag."
A foul tasting cloth is shoved into Regulus's mouth making him retch, but this
is ignored. He tries to sit up again but his whole body feels heavy and
sluggish and his hands are bound at the wrist. He is also freezing cold and it
is a few moments before he realizes he is naked.
His eyes snap open. The ceiling is dark and grey and there is a bright light
hanging overhead radiating rings of light that make him dizzy, so he closes his
eyes again and tries to breathe, willing the sudden panic that is filling his
lungs away.
Where is he? How did he get here? The last thing he remembers is running from
Barty's house.
He jumps when he hears a door open and hands hoist him up and onto his feet.
Through his blurred vision he just makes out another man in all black,
surveying him critically. Cold hands feel the muscles of his arms and legs and
press into his abdomen. The gag is removed so the man can peer inside his
mouth, then quickly replaced, and then a light shines into his eyes.
Regulus whimpers. He shies away from this invasion of his privacy, terrified,
trying to curl in on himself, but someone grips his hair and pulls him up again
and he can do no more than stand and allow himself to be examined.
A cold stethoscope is pressed to his chest. The man gives a bored sigh. "Hmmm.
He's thin but healthy. And young. He'll go for a quite a bit I reckon, though
I'm not sure if it's for that pretty face or the pretty little heart beating in
his chest."
The person gripping his hair grunts. "Don't care what he's used for once he's
sold."
"Very well, you can put him in number three."
"With pleasure, Mr. Burke."
Regulus stumbles as he is pushed and dragged to an open area containing several
cages lined with bars. Most are full of people, naked, like him, and bound with
their hands suspended on a hook above their heads.
Oh God. This isn't happening. Regulus struggles, trying to free himself from
the firm grip around his bicep, but it is for naught. He is stuffed into a
cage, his bound hands secured to the hook above him, so high he has to stand on
tip-toe to touch the ground.
The woman in the cage beside him is sobbing quietly, strands of brown hair
sticking to her face. She slumps when someone with a needle comes by and
injects her with it. At the far end of the room a door opens and several people
are ushered in. The sounds on boots clicking on the stone floor makes Regulus's
stomach clench.
"This way, gentlemen. The floor will open for bidding shortly."
 
                                      oOo
Remus had not been kidding when he said he had some favors to call in. Almost a
dozen people show up at the Prewett's garage nearly an hour after Remus places
a few phone calls. Sirius doesn't know many of them.
He knows Gideon and Fabian of course, and he recognizes Peter from the few
nights out he and Sirius have spent with Remus, but aside from that, these
people are strangers. But they seem nice. Many of them greet each other like
old friends, hugging and kissing. It's almost like a family.
"Remus, what is this?" he asks, pulling Remus aside.
"Ah…well, Albus calls it The Order of the Phoenix."
Sirius would laugh if he still wasn't so desperately worried. "Order of the—"
"Phoenix. Yeah. It's a support group he started for the victims and survivors
of Death Eater terror. We meet twice a month usually."
Gideon's voice carries over the dim chatter of the others. "Alright, everyone
take a seat so Lupin can start explaining."
There is shuffling as people pull up plastic chairs or maneuver to sit on
counter tops and engine hoods. An uneasy mood sweeps the room as quiet settles.
A gaunt woman with short brown hair is tugging on the hem of her sleeve and
glancing towards the front door every few seconds and Sirius wonders what sort
of ordeal these people have been through to be involved in a group like this.
Remus clears his throat. "I apologize for calling you all so late but Sirius
and I need your help."
"You mean, Stubby?" Fabian asks curiously.
Several eyes dart towards him and Sirius offers his employers an apologetic
smile. "That's not actually my name. I…"
"It's okay," Remus says, giving him an encouraging smile. "You can trust them."
"I had to change it when I ran away...almost half a year ago now."
Sirius gives the truncated version of his tale, leaving out most of the more
graphic bits. Just that he took his brother and ran when threat of harm became
clear. That they'd been living under aliases for months while Sirius tried to
support them. And that Regulus had taken off earlier that day after an
argument.
He gets sympathetic looks from the others and does well not to cringe or look
too guilty. If they knew…really knew. Even Remus, who hours ago was giving him
looks that could kill, pulls him into a brief hug and whispers something
soothing in his ear.
"Keep it in your pants, Lupin," Gideon remarks loudly, breaking the tense
atmosphere with a smattering of chuckles. Remus is blushing when he pulls away,
putting a significant amount of distance between them; Sirius does not fail to
notice.
"Alright you lot," Fabian says, jumping to his feet. "Stubby's little brother
is missing and it's a fucking big city so let's get to work."
 
                                      oOo
They end up dividing into groups. People with cars take people without to scour
the city. Sirius has never seen anything like it. They mobilize so efficiently,
so quickly, like they've done this several times before, and Sirius realizes
with a pang that they probably have.
They don't even know him. Why should they help? What do they care if his
brother never comes home? They'd probably just as soon turn him over to the
police if they'd seen what Remus had only a few hours ago. A fresh wave of
guilt washes over him as he considers the boy walking beside him and all he's
done to help.
Remus hasn't told them where they're going. Only that there is one more person
who can help, but they have to go meet him. They slip unseen into an alley;
Remus guides him around the back of several distressed looking buildings until
they reach a door with the words THE DUNGEON written in sharp green letters.
"Remus, where are—?"
"Shh," Remus hisses softly and knocks.
The door opens almost immediately, flooding the alley with loud, angry music. A
sallow-faced boy glares back at them before leaning casually against the door,
crossing his arms over his chest. The hair on the back of Sirius's neck
prickles at this boy's intense scrutiny before his gaze switches back to Remus.
"Late, as usual, Lupin."
"Good evening, Severus. Always a pleasure."
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Notes
     warning: allusions to rape (nothing explicit) and sexual slavery
It takes all of ten minutes for Sirius to decide he truly hates Severus Snape.
Sirius doesn't doubt he could be useful, Remus certainly seems to think so
anyway, but Sirius could do without the cutting remarks and sarcasm. Remus's
restraining hand on his knee is the only thing keeping him from throttling the
greasy bastard.
"So that I understand, you're asking if I'll help you find some witless child
who has wandered off into the middle of London because his big brother made him
cry? Do I have that right?"
"Fuck you! He's not a witless child!" Sirius snaps, unable to keep quite.
"Oh, yes, with a temper like that it's a wonder he ran off at all."
"Relax, Sirius," Remus saying soothingly before turning back to Snape.
"Severus, he's only fifteen. He's clever but you and I both know the sort of
danger he could run into. All I'm asking is that you keep your eyes and ears
open and let me know if he comes through."
Snape's lips are pursed, his black eyes fixed on Remus's for several tense,
silent moments. Sirius has to hand it to Remus for not wilting under the
scrutiny. Finally he says, "It just so happens there is an auction being hosted
over at Knockturn tonight. The Snatchers have been ruthless these last few
days. I've never seen anything like it." His voice carries note of compassion
Sirius had not expected from the acerbic boy.
Remus frowns, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. "Would you be out of place
there?"
"I'm supposed to be there now, actually, but I was led to believe this was a
matter of utmost urgency."
"So you dropped everything for me? I'm touched, Sev."
"In the head, perhaps," Snape mutters. "I'll look for the brat. But we're even
after this, Lupin. Deal?"
Remus nods and they shake on it. Snape stands, giving them both one final
glare, and sweeps from the room without so much as a goodbye. Remus leads them
out and into the night once more.
They're quiet during the car ride back. Sirius helps himself to one of Remus's
cigarettes feeling like he might die from the anxiety in his heart until he
can't take it any longer. "Remus…could he really have been taken by those
maniacs?"
He wants Remus to tell him no. That Regulus will be fine and will be waiting
for them when they get home. But one of the reasons he fell for Remus in the
first place was his quiet honesty, and he does not disappoint now.
"It's possible. I called Severus as a precaution, but he was nervous about the
recent Snatchings which is enough to concern me." He reaches for Sirius's hand,
lacing their fingers together. "I'm sorry, I don't want to worry you, but a
fifteen-year-old boy on his own would be easy prey."
"What did he mean when he said you'd be even?"
A wry smile twists Remus's lips. "Ah, well, despite what you might think of
him, Severus is actually…well, I wouldn't call him nice. Honorable maybe. I
took the fall when he slipped up. They found out someone had been helping
Snatched children escape. I took the beating of a lifetime for him. He owes
me."
"You're lucky they didn't kill you."
"They almost did. But enough about my sordid past. Let's head back, maybe
someone has something useful."
Sirius traces small circles on the back of Remus's hand with his thumb. "I know
you said you weren't doing this for me, but thank you."
"You're welcome," Remus says, squeezing his hand gently.
                                      oOo
"Hey!"
Regulus bangs loudly on the door to his cell. The auction ended ages ago. The
second he was sold, he was dressed and carted quickly from the warehouse, where
he was being held, to a van, and then deposited into a small, windowless room.
There is nothing but a cot with one thin blanket and a pillow in the corner and
a small alcove with a toilet.
"Hey!" he shouts through the door, banging hard enough to make his hand sting.
"Is anyone there? Please! My parents have money! A fuck load of it! My name is
Regulus Black! My parents are Orion and Walburga Black! They'll pay to have me
returned! I promise you!"
Silence is the only answer he gets. He leans his head against the door, feeling
hot tears prickling his eyes. "Please," he begs to no one in particular.
"Please let me go."
He falls to the floor, exhausted and miserable and terrified about what will
happen to him. He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face into the
scratchy cotton clothing he was given to wear, sobbing with abandon. What are
they going to do to him? What if he never gets out of here? He'll never see
Sirius again. Sirius will never know what happened.
These thoughts chase around in his head until his crying wears him out
completely and he falls into a fitful sleep.
                                      oOo
Regulus is woken abruptly to the sound of metal scraping. The lock to the door
clicks and swings open, and a short, hunched man enters bearing a tray of food.
Regulus scrambles backward until his back hits the wall but the man seems
unperturbed. He places the tray on the cot and turns to Regulus beckoning him
over with wave of his hand.
Regulus flinches when he gets a better look at him. He is thin with tufts of
white hair atop his head. Half of his face sags below the rest, like a wax
figure that was left in the heat to melt. Heavy folds of skin hang off his face
in discolored pouches and one pale-blue eye is lopsided and overlarge.
"Come," the man says in a croaky voice. "Kreacher is bringing food for you to
eat."
"I'm—I'm not hungry."
"All prisoners must be eating and taking their medicine or they is being
punished," the man says automatically. "Come."
But Regulus does not move. The man waves his hands towards the tray. "Kreacher
is not wanting to have the guards come to punish the prisoner. Punishments is
nasty and Kreacher isn't wanting to clean up blood again. Come," he beckons for
a third time.
Slowly, Regulus rises and shuffles to the bed. He picks up a sandwich and bites
into it, forcing his mouth to chew and swallow. The man gives a lopsided smile,
baring crooked, yellow teeth. One gnarled finger points to something on the
tray.
"The prisoner must also take his medicine."
Regulus spies a familiar looking green pill beside a small glass of water. He
wonders what sort of punishment necessitated this man, Kreacher, to clean up
blood as he reluctantly places the pill on his tongue and swallows.
"Good!" Kreacher croaks happily. "You is a much better prisoner than some. They
is always nasty to Kreacher. Throwing things and screaming at him."
There is nothing Regulus can think to say to this, so he sits on the edge of
the cot and picks at the crust of his sandwich until a loud knock sounds on the
door. A man Regulus doesn't recognize enters.
"Did he take the pill?"
"Yes, sir," Kreacher replies.
"Good, take him to suite four."
"Yes, sir."
The man leaves and Kreacher takes the tray of uneaten food away. He hands
Regulus a silky black robe he hadn't noticed before. "Prisoners must undress
and wear robes before they is taken to the suites."
"Please..." Regulus slurs, feeling the pill take effect as his tongue grows
heavy in his mouth. "Please. I want to go home."
But his pleas fall on deaf ears. His clothing is gently removed by the other
man and the robe is pulled on. Regulus resists but it is slow and becomes
difficult to do much more than stand and breathe. After another few moments, as
he is led by the hand down the hall and up a flight of stairs, he stops caring.
                                      oOo
The shrill sound of the telephone ringing brings Sirius painfully back to
consciousness. Beneath him, Remus stirs and mumbles something in his sleep
before burrowing deeper into the sofa. Sirius pries himself from Remus's warmth
and hurries to the phone.
"Hello? Regulus?"
"No," Snape's voice answers. "Let me speak to Lupin."
"Did you hear anything about my brother?"
"Lupin, please."
A hand comes down on his shoulder. Remus runs his fingers through his mussed
hair and holds out his hand for the phone. "I've got it, Sirius."
Sirius hands it to him, leaning against the wall for support. None of the order
members had found anything in their search. Snape is their last hope.
"Severus, what did you find out?" Remus motions for a pen and Sirius hurries to
the kitchen and back with a notepad and pen, his heart in his throat. Remus's
hand is immediately flying across the paper when he takes it. "Fuck…Imperio?
You're sure? I know…Okay, thank you, Severus."
Remus hangs up the phone, still jotting notes that make no sense to Sirius.
"He was there, Sirius. At the auction."
"Oh God."
"I know, but we know where he is now."
"Where?"
"Imperio. It's a…nightclub of sorts. It caters to unusual tastes."
Sirius fingernails bite into his flesh. He doesn't need Remus to explain what
unusual tastes means. "How do we get him out?"
"The good thing is Severus knows the place well. We're going to meet him
tomorrow night—"
"Tomorrow? No, we need to go now!"
"We can't, Sirius. They're on high-alert right now with the new people they've
brought in. There is no getting in tonight."
"But, Remus—"
"I know, Sirius, but we can't rush this. It's dangerous. Severus has a plan to
get us in and out tomorrow night."
Waiting is one of the things Sirius hates more than anything. Waiting while his
brother is being held captive, while unspeakable thing are being done to him,
is the worst kind of torture. Remus pulls him by the hand back to the sofa.
"C'mon. Worrying isn't going to help any. Let's try to get some more sleep and
we'll focus on it tomorrow."
They settle back onto the sofa. Remus's arms wrap around Sirius's waist, and
their legs twine beneath the blankets. Sirius feels a press of lips against his
temple and he doesn't think he can sleep but Remus's arms feel safe so he asks
the question he's been dying to ask all night.
"Do you think I'm a monster?"
Remus hand smoothes back his hair. "No."
"Why?"
"Two reasons. One, it's obvious from everything I've seen from you tonight that
you'd do anything for your brother. I don't think you'd willingly hurt him.
That doesn't mean you didn't do so unintentionally, but that doesn't make you a
bad person."
"And the second?"
"Isn't that obvious?" He feels Remus's lips moving as they whisper to form the
words. "I love you."
                                      oOo
A warm, wet cloth is passed over Regulus's body, cleansing his skin where it
has been soiled. Kreacher dips the cloth in soapy water and cleans him quietly.
Regulus shudders and bites his lip when the burning pain that is pulsing down
his thighs twinges.
"What is your real name?" Regulus asks the man, trying to distract himself from
thinking about the last hour of his life.
Kreacher regards him curiously. "Kreacher is Kreacher's name."
"What did people call you before they called you Kreacher?"
The question seems to be beyond the simple man because he shakes his head.
"Prisoners are not asking such questions."
Regulus frowns. "Did you have a family? Friends?"
"Kreacher is alone."
"Why do you do this?"
"Prisoners are not asking such questions," he says more firmly.
There is quiet except for the sounds of water sloshing in the tub and the rough
sound of cloth on his skin.
"I don't blame you, Kreacher. Just…so you know. I know it's not your fault."
"You is clean," Kreacher says abruptly, pulling him up from his seat and giving
him fresh clothes. "Kreacher is taking you back to your cell now."
When he is returned to his cell, Regulus curls beneath the blankets, shivering,
even though the room is not very cold. He stifles a sob into his pillow. He
won't cry. He takes several deep breaths into his pillow, hyperventilating
himself until the burning in his throat passes. It is a long time before sleep
finds him.
                                      oOo
Sirius takes one final drag on his cigarette and flicks it. He is standing with
Remus in a dark part of the alley, trying to look for all the world like he
belongs outside a nightclub like Imperio. Not that one would know it was the
sort of place that deals in sexual slavery just by looking at it, and certainly
Sirius wouldn't be caught dead at a place like this, but he tries to blend in
all the same.
The building is completely nondescript, like many of the other buildings beside
it, with dubious looking patrons entering and exiting through a large metal
door, guarded by a bouncer who looks like troll. The ground floor is just a
regular club—dancing, flashing lights, and lots of alcohol—but it's the space
two stories beneath his feet he's most interest in.
There is a knock on the door beside them. The muscles in Sirius's stomach
clench as they wait for a minute, then Sirius follows Remus further down the
alley and around the back. They meet no one except one amorous couple hidden
half in the shadows until they stop in front of another door two buildings
away.
Remus knocks and the door creaks open, allowing them to slip inside where they
are greeted by Snape's patented glare. Sirius wonders if he ever smiles.
"You'll have one hour," he says, beckoning them through a damp, empty hallway.
"They don't know about this tunnel so make sure you aren't seen or I'll never
get another person out again."
Snape leads them to an open door at the end of the hall, unlocking the padlock
and ushering them through towards an ancient looking staircase. It's dark and
dank like the rest of the building and Sirius spies rats scurrying in the
corners. Everything in him is screaming that this is dangerous but all he can
think about is how scared Regulus must be and his resolve strengthens.
"Thank you, Snape," Sirius says, holding out his hand.
Snape eyes it distastefully but clasps his hand briefly before moving to close
the door. "Noble idiots, both of you. Try not to get yourselves killed," Snape
says and closes the door behind him.
"Ready?" Remus asks.
Sirius nods.
                                      oOo
Regulus watches from his curled position on the bed as Kreacher shuffles into
his room and places a tray on the end of his bed. He is far from hungry. He
thinks he may never be hungry again for the rest of his life—however long that
may end up being. But the deformed man is a distraction.
So far he has not been able to engage him into conversation that is not:
"Prisoners must be eating and not asking Kreacher questions."
But he prattles on to the man as if they're old friends, at least until the
green pills dull his senses. He tells Kreacher about running away. About
Sirius. About how he is afraid he'll die here. About how he almost hopes he
will.
Kreacher only goes about his duties but Regulus can tell he is listening.
"Thank you, Kreacher," he says as a silky black robe is placed beside the tray.
Kreacher turns to leave. "Kreacher only does what he is told. Prisoners must
wear fresh robes so Kreacher brings them."
"Right…" Regulus says, reaching for the robe. Something rolls out falls to the
floor with a soft clatter.
Reaching over the side of the bed, Regulus feels around until his hand lands on
something cylindrical and thin. His heart speeds up in his chest at the sight
of a syringe full of clear liquid. He pulls the cap off, flicking it like he's
seen people do on television and a drop of liquid falls from the pointed tip of
the needle.
The door opens again and Regulus quickly places the cap back on the needle
before stuffing it into the pocket of the robe. Kreacher hands him a glass of
water and a green pill.
"Come. Kreacher is taking the prisoner to suite eleven once he is dressed."
Regulus takes the pill obediently, and places it under his tongue when
Kreacher's attention is turned back toward the tray of uneaten food. He
undresses and slips the robe over his shoulders, feeling the small object in
the pocket bump reassuringly against his hip.
"Good," Kreacher says approvingly. "Come."
Regulus spits the pill into his palm once Kreacher's back is tuned and tosses
it to the ground.
"Thank you," Regulus whispers before he is led to the door labeled Suite 11.
Kreacher only unlocks the door and ushers Regulus inside. "Kreacher is only
bringing the prisoner to the suites. Kreacher is doing what he is told."
                                      oOo
There is a man lounging on the bed when Regulus enters, but he is off the bed
and in front of Regulus the instant he steps into the room.
"Perfect," the man mutters, running his hands up and down Regulus's arms. He
smells like smoke. "Bloody perfect."
The man's mouth is hovering over his, hands still roaming over Regulus's body.
He tries to remain calm. Just breathe. He tilts his head back a little, letting
the man's lips descend on his and kisses back half-heartedly.
The sash on the robe is pulled loose and Regulus is guided to the bed. Breathe.
He slides his hand into the pocket of the robe, uncapping it with his fingers,
as the man climbs atop him, still muttering, "Beautiful. Perfect."
His thighs are parted. Regulus cringes when a hand touches him between the legs
and sheer desire to escape mixes with humiliation and anger at being touched so
unwillingly. His hand flies, stabbing the man in the neck with the syringe and
plunging the depressor.
The man shrieks and pulls the needle from his neck. Blood spurts from the
needle's entry point but Regulus does not have time to consider what he's done
because in the next second, large hands are wrapped around his neck. "You
little fucking bastard! I'll kill you!"
"Let me go!" Regulus struggles, scratching at the man's arms, feeling warm
blood dripping onto his face, but the man only squeezes harder and soon the
edges of his vision begin going black. Fuck. He's going to die. This is it.
Suddenly the man's eyelids flutter and his hands go lax before he collapses
onto Regulus with a grunt. Regulus pushes him and scrambles off the bed,
coughing with the effort to breath. He rubs his neck and pokes the man but he
is unmoving. Oh God. Is he dead?
Panic begins prickling at the edge of his senses but Regulus takes a deep
breath. He cannot afford to be weak right now. Adrenaline coursing through his
veins, Regulus uses the sheets to wipe his face clean and ties his robe before
hurrying from the room to look for a way out.
                                      oOo
Sirius slides the panel on the door open and he and Remus slip into what looks
like a supply closet.
"Snape said he's in the last cell on the left," Remus whispers, sliding the
panel shut.
Easing the door open, Sirius peers down an empty hallway lined with doors. It
looks almost like a hospital—brightly lit and uncomfortably clean. He steps
into the hall, Remus close behind, and hurries quietly to the end.
The room is empty when they enter.
Sirius's heart sinks. "He's not here…"
"They might have taken him to one of the suites," Remus says, biting his lip.
"We have to go, Sirius. We can't stay here much longer."
"I'm not leaving until we find him," Sirius says, hurrying back into the hall.
He'll check all the rooms if he has to. Like hell he got this close just to
leave.
The sounds of people at the other end of the hall stop him dead in his tracks.
A group of people are hurrying across the hall, some dressed in robes, others
in white t-shirts and pants, some of them carrying small children. They stop
when they see him.
"Someone is here!" one of them shouts. "Run!"
"Wait..." a familiar voice says, "Sirius?"
And it becomes difficult to breathe as Sirius watches Regulus push past the
others. Sirius's legs carry him down the hall before he even made the decision
to move, flying towards his brother. Regulus. Reg. Reg. Reg. His arms wrap
around the other boy when Regulus slams into him, almost lifting him off his
feet.
"Regulus…oh God." Sirius showers kisses on his cheeks, his forehead,
everywhere, with complete abandon as Regulus clutches at his shoulders and sobs
openly. Sirius wipes the tears away with his fingers, kissing wet black lashes
and filling himself up on the sight of his brother.
"Sirius…"
"Shhh, stop, it's okay. I've got you.
"I thought I'd never see you again."
"I'm getting you out of here. C'mon, we have to go," Sirius says, but he
doesn't move to pull away, afraid if he lets Regulus go he will disappear
again.
Regulus wipes his face on Sirius's shirt, turning to look over his shoulders at
the others who are watching them uneasily. "We can't leave the others, Sirius."
"Stirred up a rebellion, did you?" Sirius says, laughing. There are at least
ten. He glances over his shoulder at Remus who nods decisively.
"Snape is probably going to kill me. We have to hurry."
                                      oOo
Over an hour later, they are in Remus's car driving home. Regulus is curled up
beside Sirius in the back seat, his arms wrapped tightly around Sirius's waist.
Snape, as Remus predicted, had been far from happy. He'd been positively livid
when they emerged from the tunnel with more than a dozen people in tow. Regulus
had matched his glare, telling him "I couldn't just leave them," and Snape
scowled but helped them get everyone to safety.
Sirius rests his cheek against the top of Regulus's head feeling the tension
from the last twenty-four hours leeching from his body the longer he holds his
brother.
"Are we going home now?" Regulus mumbles against his shoulder.
Sirius cards his fingers through Regulus's hair, kissing him once on the
forehead. "Yes, Reg. We're going home."
***** Chapter 16 *****
Sirius doesn't feel completely safe until the door is shut and locked. Regulus
is still clutching his shirt like a lifeline, his face hidden in Sirius's
shoulder, so tightly Sirius cannot pry him off without difficulty.
"Don't go, please…"
His fingers comb through soft, black locks. "It's alright, Reg. I'm still right
here."
Regulus nods, but he does not loosen his grip.
"Are you hungry?"
"No."
"Alright, c'mon, let's get you cleaned up and to bed."
They traipse up the stairs and to the bathroom where Sirius sits Regulus on the
toilet and runs a bath. He helps Regulus out of the robe, wincing when he
catches sight of dark bruises on Regulus's neck and wrists.
Touching the bruises lightly, Sirius feels a hot anger swoop through his belly.
He could kill them. Rip them to bloody pieces for hurting his brother. "Christ,
Reg. What the fuck did they do to you?"
His forehead touches Sirius's chest. "I just want to forget about it."
Sirius thinks he will never forget, neither of them will. How could they? But
he nods and helps Regulus into the bath.
"Are you getting in?" Regulus asks after a minute of dull silence
Needing no more permission than that, Sirius quickly strips and slides into the
tub behind Regulus, sloshing a generous amount of water onto the floor with a
wet slop. Regulus immediately leans back against his chest, issuing a long sigh
as Sirius lathers up a washcloth and runs it over his chest and arms.
He leans Regulus forward, scrubbing his neck and back, watching water trickle
over his boney shoulders, and then his stomach, but hesitates before going any
lower. He doesn't want to make Regulus feel uncomfortable. If he bids it,
Sirius will never touch him again. But Regulus wipes that worry away with a
flex of his hips and a softly whispered, "Please, Sirius."
So he dips his hand below the water, rubbing the cloth down jutting hips and
thighs to the knobs of Regulus's knees. Regulus's head tilts back, pressing
open-mouthed kisses to Sirius's jaw, wet fingers coming up to tangle in his
hair. Sirius chuckles when Regulus whimpers and calls him a tease as he
dutifully scrubs one leg clean, then the other, and suddenly it's easy to let
the cloth fall to the bottom of the tub and wrap his fingers around Regulus's
hard length.
"Yes…" Regulus hisses, bucking into Sirius's fist, and melting against Sirius's
chest.
Sirius nibbles gently on Regulus's neck, pumping at a languid pace, losing
himself in the rhythm as he thrusts awkwardly against Regulus's arse. Regulus
grinds back, his moans echoing off the tiled walls, louder and faster, sloshing
more water over the side, until Sirius can't take it any more. "Bed," he
orders. "Fuck, Reg, now."
They slip, dripping wet from the tub and to the bedroom, tumbling onto the
mattress in a damp heap. Sirius devours every inch of Regulus's skin, reveling
in the soft noises he makes when Sirius re-discovers some secret place. He
licks drops of water from Regulus's chest, feeling fingers plunge into his
hair.
"Need you," Regulus mutters, pulling Sirius up for a kiss, tongues delving into
the other's mouth.
Sirius could be happy with this, he thinks, even as he circles his hips,
seeking friction to relieve his now aching arousal. With each slid of lip and
tongue, Sirius feels the last of his fear evaporating until there is only
Regulus—warm, breathing, alive—pleading with him for more.
A cool, plastic tube is placed in his hand. Regulus watches him with heavy-
lidded eyes and Sirius nods. Anything you want, he thinks, thumbing the cap
open and pouring a generous amount of slick fluid into his palm. He kisses
Regulus deeply once more before leaning back and reaching between his own legs,
searching for a part of his body he knows is there but has rarely considered
until recently.
"Sirius, what—?"
"Shhh…want you this way," Sirius says and groans when one lubricated finger
slides in, sending burning pleasure-pain up his spine. Regulus is watching with
wide eyes as Sirius continues to fuck himself, first with one finger, then two,
gasping at the sensation of being stretched and filled.
He tosses the lube to Regulus, giving another long groan when his fingers find
something glorious inside of him, making his eyes flutter shut. God, why had he
never done this before? Regulus moans in sympathy, clutching at Sirius's legs,
fingernails biting into his skin.
"Get that on," Sirius moans, nodding to lube. "I'm not going to last long."
Regulus hastens to obey, pumping slick fingers in time with Sirius's thrusts
until Sirius can take it no longer. He knocks Regulus's hand away, straddling
his brother as he hovers over him. He swallows once, wets his lips, and kisses
Regulus softly.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Regulus shakes his head slowly, eyes locked with Sirius's as Sirius carefully
guides him inside. It burns like a son of a bitch and he slows, trying to
breathe and relax his body until he can take more. Regulus's face has gone lax.
The crinkle that had furrowed his brow since they'd been reunited is smooth
once more. The dull grey haunting his eyes has left, leaving them bright again,
sparkling silver with lust.
Sirius wonders if he can erase everything this way. Lay himself bare, give
himself over to his brother so completely that everything that has happened in
the last two days—the last six months even—will vanish until there is only the
two of them.
The pain becomes bearable as Sirius rocks his hips, slow at first, then faster
with each breath-hitching moan Regulus utters. Regulus is arching up to meet
him, thrusting deeper and harder, moaning Sirius's name softly. Like he's
afraid to speak it too loudly.
Sirius cups the side of his neck and leans down as much as his can while still
keeping a steady rhythm, his lips brushing Regulus's. "Let go. It's okay. I
want it. Want you to fuck me, Reg."
"Oh God," Regulus cries, gripping Sirius's hips and tipping them over the side
until Sirius's back hits the mattress, his legs coming up to wrap around
Regulus's hips.
Regulus plunges deep, fucking Sirius hard and without respite, sobbing his
pleasure into Sirius's neck and Sirius's brain goes white. He is gasping, open-
mouthed against Regulus forehead, feeling hot pleasure unfurling rapidly around
his spine, sending ribbons of lust to every extremity until he thinks he might
die from it.
It takes nothing more than a touch of Regulus's hand to send him careening into
orgasm, pulsing thick, hot ropes between their sweaty bodies.
"Oh, fuck, Regulus."
Regulus kisses him, thrillingly hard, and stills suddenly, his eyes wide and
focused on Sirius's. Sirius can feel him thicken and pulse inside of him and he
groans, his spent cock twitching half-heartedly in interest, as Regulus
collapses into a breathless heap atop him.
He whispers something quietly against Sirius's neck, almost too low to hear.
Sirius grins; stroking Regulus's back soothingly, he nuzzles his temple,
kissing damp hair, and whispers into his ear. "I love you too."
 
                                      oOo
Regulus lies beside his brother on the bed, clean after another quick wash up
in the tub, watching Sirius watching him. He's memorized this face a hundred
times before. He sees his own face in his brother's and yet it is somehow
uniquely Sirius's. Full, lush lips. Cheekbones that could cut if you dared to
touch. Elegantly sculpted brow. The same silver, fathomless eyes.
Two days and nothing has changed, and yet everything has. Regulus feels years
older. Sirius looks like he feels. There is a sadness lingering at the edges of
Sirius's eyes and lips that wasn't there before. That should never be there.
He links his fingers with Sirius's. "I'm sorry." he whispers. He's not sure
what for. For running away. For poisoning and tricking Sirius into being with
him. For wanting Sirius so much and wanting Sirius to want him just as badly.
Sirius frowns. "You don't have to be sorry. It's my fault. Everything that's
happened has been my fault. If I'd never taken you with me none of this would
have happened."
"I'm glad you did. If you hadn't, this"—he squeezes Sirius's hand—"wouldn't
have happened either. I wouldn't give this up for anything."
Regulus rolls closer, taking plumps lips between his own, kissing Sirius long
and slow. When he pulls away Sirius's eyes are still closed.
"I thought…" Sirius's voice breaks off around a sob before he brings it back
under control. When he opens his eyes they're bright and clear. "I don't know
what I would have done, Reg."
"Perished, I'm sure," he says, causing Sirius to stare. He smirks at his
brother, shifting closer to rest a knee between his thighs. "Who else are you
going to get to cook for you? Can't live off take-out forever."
A breath of laughter escapes Sirius before he pinches Regulus on the stomach,
eliciting a giggle. He wraps strong arms around Regulus's torso and pulls him
close. "Twat. I was being serious."
"You're always—"
"Don't! Idiot…"
Regulus smiles and rests his forehead against Sirius's and they soon fall into
a comfortable silence. It's nearly perfect. He could stay this way forever.
"Can we go away?" he asks quietly. "Please. Somewhere far…where no one knows
us."
"Reg…" Sirius begins to say, but Regulus heads him off.
"Remember that town in France we got stuck in? That time we went to visit
grandmother alone?"
"You mean when we missed our connection because you wandered off?"
"You fell asleep, you lump!"
"What about it?"
"It was nice. Small and quiet. And that bakery had the best cocoa and
croissants. Let's go there."
"So you can stuff yourself full of French pastries?"
"You ate loads more than me! Maybe I'll get a job in the bakery? I'll cook for
you every day and you'll get fat and serve you right," he pokes Sirius in the
stomach just to hear him laugh. "And we can get a small cottage. You'll get a
job in a shop or something. We can raise chickens and go for bike rides through
the countryside on the weekends and you can make love to me every night. Just
you and me. Like we said."
"You read far too much than is healthy. Raise chickens. Honestly. It sounds
nice though."
"Hmmm."
"Would you still love me if I was fat though?"
"Probably not."
"Bastard," Sirius mutters. "People would know, Reg. They'd be able to tell."
"No they wouldn't. They might suspect but they'd never know. We'd be careful.
And so what if they did? No one would care. It's France!"
"I doubt the French are more understanding of…this sort of thing."
Regulus meets his eyes. "Of what? People being in love?" Sirius doesn't seem to
have anything to say to that and Regulus feels his point has been made. "I
don't care where we go. I just want to forget about all this and start over."
"Okay," Sirius whispers and Regulus feels a calloused hand cup his jaw as
Sirius presses a kiss to his forehead. "But you'll have to help me with my
French."
"And here I thought you had a talented tongue. I must have been mistaken."
A challenge sparks behind Sirius's eyes as he quirks one brow and rolls Regulus
over, kissing his way down Regulus's neck and chest, tongue flat against one
nipple and then dipping into his navel before showing Regulus just how talented
it really is.
 
                                      oOo
The next morning is one of the rare occasions where Sirius is awake before
Regulus. Sirius figures he's still worn out from his ordeal over the last few
days and is catching up on some much needed sleep. He brushes his knuckles
across one smooth, pale cheek, his eyes lingering on the dark circles beneath
Regulus's eyes.
It will get better. Regulus will move past this. They'll start over some place
new. Just pack their bags and catch a train. Nothing is keeping them here. He
can phone Andromeda, tell her she can have the house if she wants it. And
except for Remus, no one will miss them.
Remus would worry if they just disappeared without a word. Sirius thinks of
calling him but dismisses the idea almost instantly. Remus deserves more than a
phone call. Sighing, Sirius gently goes about rousing his brother, kissing
forehead and giving his shoulder a shake.
"What?" Regulus mumbles, burying his face into his pillow.
"I'm going over to see Remus for a bit. Are you alright on your own?"
One grey eye considers him from the depths of the feather down. "Why are you
going to see him?"
Sirius doesn't want to admit it is to say goodbye. "He helped us. He'll want to
know you're alright."
Regulus nods after a moment and closes his eyes again. "Think I'll sleep a
little longer."
Tucking the blankets more securely around Regulus's shoulders, Sirius slips out
of bed and dresses quickly, trying not to think of how he'll tell Remus they're
leaving.
In the end he doesn't have to. Remus answers the door, wearing a bathrobe and
tired smile.
"So…how is he?" Remus asks, letting Sirius inside and leading him towards the
kitchen.
"He's…okay," Sirius says, leaning against the counter, watching Remus making a
quick breakfast. "Dealing with it, you know?"
Remus nods. "What about you? Are you okay?"
He tries for nonchalant, shrugging, but he knows Remus sees right through it
with one dubious look from those warm brown eyes. It is precisely why doing
this is so hard. Remus understands him better than he understands himself. And
he'll never get a chance to understand this boy the same way. What makes him
care so much? After all the shit life has dealt him, how can he still smile and
give?
"I'm all right," he admits after a moment "Just happy he's home and alive."
"And," Remus's hands, which are busy with making tea, still and fall to his
sides, "when are you leaving?"
"Leaving?"
Remus gives him another look, and Sirius spares a moment to consider what a
formidable father Remus might make one day with "looks" like that before
saying, "How do you know things like that, Remus Lupin?"
The corner of Remus's lips twitch briefly. "Magic."
"Soon," Sirius says, quietly. As if he saying it softly will lessen the blow,
though he is unsure who he is trying to spare. "The sooner the better actually.
We'll sort everything out and catch a train. This was the wrong place to come.
I thought we could hide in a big city. That no one would find us here."
"Is it selfish if I said I want you to stay?"
And for perhaps the first time, Sirius sees the vulnerable boy that Remus
really is looking back at him, lurking just beyond the guarded façade. He
thinks better of reaching out to touch Remus like he so desperately wants to.
"Maybe a little. But if anyone deserves to be selfish it's you. You saved us. I
would have lost him. I can't thank you enough."
"So this is goodbye, then?"
Sirius nods. "I'm sorry."
Remus hugs his arms around his chest. "I understand. I do. He means more to
you. He's your brother. He should. I never stood a chance."
He wants to tell Remus he stood every chance. That there had been a moment
where Sirius had been so sure. He doesn't. He's made his choice and he'll have
to live with the guilt.
"Don't suppose we'll see each other again," Remus says finally.
"Dunno. What does your crystal ball say?"
The smile he earns for that is lovely. He hopes he will never forget it. Remus
reaches out and pulls Sirius into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Just take
care."
 
                                      oOo
When Regulus wakes it is to the sound of sharp rapping on the door. He groans
and rolls over, shoving his head under the pillow, but the knocking persists.
He reaches across the bed to shove Sirius but remembers he is gone. Right.
Grumbling, he shuffles to the door, cursing Sirius for forgetting his key.
Bloody idiot. He throws the door open mid-knock, a scathing comment ready to
spring from his tongue, but the sight that greets him turns his blood to ice.
"Regulus!"
"Mum? Dad…"
 
                                      oOo
Sirius is pedaling his bike around the corner to the street, his mind miles
away, as he replays the conversation with Remus in his head, so he does not
notice the police car parked outside their door until he is practically in
front of it. Reg. Dropping his bike to the ground, he flies through the door,
his heart hammering.
"Reg?" he calls. "Regulus?"
"Sirius."
He stops dead at the chilly sound of his father's voice. He turns slowly until
his eyes find them. They're sitting there, on the sofa. His mother and father,
with Regulus between them, his head bowed. He can see a police officer in the
corner of his eye.
Licking his lips, he clears his throat once and says, "Mum. Dad. Long time no
see."
His mother pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing her eyes, clutching Regulus's
shoulder with blood-red nails.
His father stands, his face impassive. "I just want to know why, Sirius. We
were so good to you. Gave you everything."
"You hurt me. You would have hurt Regulus. I wasn't—"
"He's mad!" His mother wails loudly. "He took my baby! Just look at him!"
"He didn't!" Regulus says, wincing when his mother's nails dig into his
shoulder. "Inspector Shacklebolt, please, we ran away!"
The officer places a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Sirius Black?" he asks. Sirius
nods. "I'm placing you under arrest for the kidnapping of Regulus Black. You do
not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not…"
Sirius tunes out the deep voice as his hands are cuffed; his eyes remain locked
with his brother's as he is led from the house.
 
                                      oOo
"Black." Sirius glances up when the door opens, hugging his knees tighter to
his chest. The officer beckons him over. "Let's go, son. There's someone who
wants to have a talk with you."
He uncurls himself from the small bed in the corner and shuffles forward,
curious. He's already been questioned by the police and met with a solicitor; a
nice man named Arthur Weasley who'd heard about Sirius's arrest from Gid and
Fabe and who had also helped Remus when he'd been picked up by the police. What
else did they want?
The officer leads him down the hall and into another room directly beside the
one he'd been questioned in. Regulus turns immediately to face him, standing
beside the one-sided glass. Sirius only just keeps from launching himself at
his brother.
"Thank you," Regulus says with a pointed look at the door.
The officer only grumbles. "You get five minutes."
When the door swings shut, Sirius is immediately flying across the room,
scooping Regulus up into a tight hug and burying his face into Regulus's hair.
"Reg…"
Regulus pushes him away after moment and does not meet his gaze.
"What's wrong?" Sirius asks. There is an unreadable look on Regulus's face that
causes doubt to creep into Sirius's peripheral. "Regulus, what's happened?"
Regulus's voice is quiet when he speaks, his eyes trained on Sirius's lips.
"Mother and father are dropping the charges against you."
"Why?"
"They've even agreed to give you part of your inheritance as long as you
promise to never contact the family after today."
"Why?" Sirius demands, reaching out and shaking Regulus a little.
But he knows exactly what Regulus is going to say the second empty grey eyes
lock onto his. "I agreed to take the mark early if they'd let you go."
"No! Reg!"
"It was the only way."
"You can't!"
"They'd have forced me to do it later anyway. I'm sixteen in two more weeks. At
least this way I can help."
"I've got legal help! I told them my side of the story! They can't possibly—"
"Actually they can. They've already located two doctors who are willing to
testify to your…unstable mental condition. They're planning on telling the
court you were ill and on medications. That you marked your arm up yourself and
kidnapped me."
"That's impossible."
"They have enough money and power to persuade people, Sirius. What do you think
this is about?" he says, gesturing to Sirius's forearm. "You might not go to
jail but they'll find some mental hospital to lock you away in."
"Fuck!" Sirius curses, kicking a nearby chair. How did things unravel so
quickly? The last few days have been one nightmare after another. "How did they
even find us?"
Regulus bites his lip. "I was spotted by that Kingsley bloke. He recognized me.
I'm sorry, Sirius. I'd forgotten after…well after everything."
Sirius's anger leaves him in one long breath as he crosses the small space, and
wraps his arms once more around his brother. It wasn't fair. They were going to
start over. Sirius was going to spend the rest of his life making up for his
mistakes.
He cups Regulus's jaw, kissing his lips once and resting his forehead lightly
against his brother's. "You can't, Reggie. Please."
Soothing fingers trace the outline of his back. "This is the only way."
"I can't let you," Sirius manages, close to tears.
Regulus pulls away again, smiling sadly. "You don't have a choice. It's as good
as done."
"Regulus—"
"No, Sirius, this is it. I'm going home with them," Regulus says with finality.
"You're free to go. I…I called Lupin. I asked him to come get you."
"What am I supposed to do? Just walk out of here and pretend like nothing has
happened? I'll kidnap you for real this time if I have to, Reg. I mean it."
"Please don't." And for the first time since Sirius has entered the room,
Regulus sounds like the fifteen-year-old boy that he is. "I'm scared enough as
it is. I can't do this if I have to worry about you acting like a bloody hero
and getting yourself into more trouble. It's my turn to be the hero, so you
shut up and deal with it."
That coaxes a brief smile from Sirius, but it vanishes quickly. "I'm sorry,
Reg. I'm so s—"
Regulus holds up a hand. "Stop. Just come here and kiss me and tell me you love
me so I can leave with that. You always have to make things so difficult."
"Older brother privileges," Sirius replies, before hooking one arm around
Regulus's waist, pulling him close, and kissing him thoroughly.
Regulus moans, brushing Sirius's tongue with his as he tangles his hands in
Sirius's hair. Sirius wants to touch everywhere at once—Regulus's hair, his
face, his stomach—burn these places into the tips of his fingers so he never
forgets, but he settles for holding his brother tightly, hands resting at the
small of Regulus's back.
"I love you," Sirius says, pressing an urgent kiss to Regulus's forehead and
meeting his gaze. "More than anything. Don't ever forget it."
Something that is almost a moan or maybe a sob hitches in Regulus's throat as
he whispers it back, "Love you. So much."
Kissing Sirius once more on the lips, Regulus tears himself away. Quickly. Like
pulling off a band-aid.
Sirius watches as Regulus takes a moment to compose himself before he bangs
twice on the door and the same officer from before ushers him out without
another word and without looking back.
 
                                      oOo
Remus doesn't say much once Sirius joins him in the front seat of his car,
though part of Sirius wishes he would. Whatever wisdom Remus has, he wants to
hear it so the pain in his chest will subside, but he gets nothing more than a
polite, "Where do you want to go?"
Scrubbing his face, Sirius shrugs. "You don't speak French, do you?"
***** Chapter 17 *****
Winning Sirius is a hollow victory for Remus. Not in the least because he had
not really been playing to win anything, or playing in the first place, but
mostly because Sirius himself is hollow. Empty. All the life, the fire that
seemed to fill him up, has gone with the departure of his brother, and Remus is
left with only half of the person he fell in love with.
Not that Remus allows them to venture beyond more than very good friends, even
if they both want it. Remus may still love the other boy, despite everything
that has happened, but he refuses to be used. He deserves better than that.
Remus doesn't begrudge the bond Sirius shared with his brother. He supposes if
he had a brother, he too might care just as deeply, if not quite so intimately.
But just once, he wishes he could look into Sirius's eyes and see everything he
feels reflected back at him without the shadow of Regulus lurking behind them.
The blasted tattoo does nothing to help either. Three bolded letters inked onto
the skin of Sirius's forearm the night of Regulus's sixteenth birthday. It
covers the skull and snake brand entirely and becomes a tangible reminder that
a part of Sirius will never belong to him.
He tries to move past it. To accept that he and Sirius will never be more than
friends. But if there is one thing he has come to appreciate, it is why Regulus
fought so hard to keep Sirius's attention. He is almost impossible to get over.
But Remus tries. And for a while, things are alright. And then suddenly, things
are great. This has almost everything to do with the reappearance of James
Potter in Sirius's life, nearly six months after Sirius has tattooed his
brother's initials onto his arm.
Remus likes James, despite the fact he is everything Remus would love to hate.
James is the sort of person where things come so naturally and easily, it is
unfair to the point of annoyance. If it weren't for the fact there was a
kindness in him Remus rarely saw in such clever, charismatic young men, Remus
would probably despise him.
The conversations James and Sirius have during his week long stay at the flat
he and Sirius rent near the university where they're both studying, are
something Remus is not privy to. Remus isn't sure how much Sirius tells James
about what happened, but whatever is said (or not said) it works wonders.
Sirius is a new man.
Perhaps Sirius just needed a friend. Someone to confide in who is not a
confusing mixture of friend and lover. He laughs louder now. When he smiles, it
actually reaches his eyes. And the nightmares that leave him gasping and crying
out for his brother have stopped almost entirely.
The occasional bad day does send Sirius into a fit of melancholy that Remus has
learned to just accept as he waits for it to pass, but after that it becomes
easy to let Sirius in again. Remus stops pushing him away whenever his hand
lingers too long around Remus's waist. He lets himself get caught up in the
light shining in Sirius's eyes when he's happy. And the next time Sirius climbs
into his bed and tells Remus he is beautiful and that he loves him, Remus
believes him.
                                      oOo
The day Regulus dies, Remus is the first to be told. James calls him at work to
tell him before he catches a train to deliver the news to Sirius in person.
"How?" Remus asks quietly.
"There was a fire. The whole house. Everyone inside was killed. There has been
a lot of bad blood between some of the families around here lately. It…the
police think they were targeted directly."
Remus sighs, pushing the term-papers he'd been grading for his professor to the
side. "It's going to kill him, James."
"I know. That's why I thought you should know first. I didn't want it to be a
surprise."
"What am I supposed to do? Act like I don't know until you get here?"
"You're the one who's been living with him for five years, I'm sure you can
think of something. We'll be there tomorrow. Lily and Harry are coming. I want
him to know he still has a family, you know?"
"Yeah. Okay."
"Remus, are you alright? I know you didn't get on—"
"I'm fine, James. Have a safe trip. We'll see you tomorrow."
                                      oOo
Watching Sirius fall apart is one of the worst things Remus has seen his
twenty-four years life, which is saying something considering the horrors of
his childhood. Perhaps it is because he hates to see anyone he cares about
hurting. Sirius explodes with rage. He throws his chair across the room,
cursing his parents and the world at large as he punches a hole clear through
the kitchen wall before speeding off on his recently rebuilt motorbike. He
comes home hours later, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, pleading on his
knees with James.
"Please, Jamie," he begs, splotchy face buried in the fabric of James's jeans.
"Please tell me it's not true!"
"I'm sorry, Sirius. I wish it were."
A wretched sound tears out of Sirius's throat as he collapses into a heap in
the middle of their sitting room, shaking with the force of his sobs. Remus
helps him up, letting Sirius cling and cry freely against his shoulder until he
is drowsy with overexertion.
He and James are helping Sirius to bed when snatches of conversation from the
next room carry over.
"Mummy, why is Uncle Sirius sad?"
"Someone he cared about very much has died. Do you remember what that means?"
"Like Grandmum goin' to heaven?"
"That's right."
"He could have teddy. 'Case he get sad again later, okay?"
                                      oOo
For a while, Remus thinks that Sirius may never recover. He doesn't cry again
after that first night. Not even when they visit the place where Regulus is
buried, though he does tremble violently as he whispers a quiet goodbye to the
ground, clutching Remus's hand so tightly it hurts.
He sleeps a lot and eats almost never, except the few bites Remus can manage to
coax him into swallowing when he is around for meals—graduate work keeps Remus
busy, but not too busy to make sure Sirius is eating. The only thing Sirius
consumes regularly, and in great quantities, are cigarettes and bottles of
beer.
James and his family come around often. It is the only time Sirius seems to
pull himself together, but then little Harry has that effect on people. Rough-
housing with his godson is the only time Remus sees Sirius smile any more,
which hurts, even though Remus thinks it shouldn't bother him, but they've been
together for years now and suddenly Remus feels like an intruder in his own
relationship. If it weren't for the infrequent moments of lucidity where Sirius
tells him plainly how much he loves him, Remus might break down too.
He tries only once to snap some sense into Sirius, but it does little good.
"You need to stop blaming yourself for this, Sirius."
"It's my fault! I let him go! I let them take him! I should have gone back! I
promised him!"
"Stop it!" Remus orders, shaking Sirius's shoulders before he can work himself
up any further. "Regulus made his choice! It was a brave thing to do and you
dishonor his memory by blaming yourself!"
Sirius shoves him hard and takes off for two whole days to stay with James and
Lily after that. They make up eventually, but it does make Remus wonder if
Sirius will ever be the same again, and he despairs a little when months and
months go by and Sirius is still grieving.
Until one day.
Remus comes home to the sound of clicking filling the air, strung together in a
random melody. He follows the sound to the upstairs office to find Sirius
seated at the desk Remus normally uses for grading papers, its contents in a
jumbled mess on the floor beside his feet. He is bent over an old typewriter
salvaged from the student center ages ago, his fingers flying over the keys at
a frenetic pace.
He approaches cautiously, his hand outstretched. Sirius flinches when Remus's
hand makes contact with his shoulder, a low growling noise escaping him, like a
dog with bone warning others to keep back if they know what's good for them.
Remus registers a mad glint in Sirius's eyes that does not disappear entirely
when his face splits into a wide grin.
"Remus! Isn't it brilliant?" Sirius gestures to the typewriter and the mess of
papers covered with tiny printed letters. Remus reaches for the nearest paper,
his eyes on Sirius, who nods approvingly.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not
mother or father. Not anyone. I promise."
Sirius is still grinning manically when Remus looks up, his eyes bright with
excitement. It is perfect, and it sets Remus's heart at ease, perhaps for the
first time since Remus picked Sirius up from the police station all those years
ago. Sirius had been grieving for his brother long before he died. Remus can
see how badly Sirius needs this outlet for his pain.
Placing the paper carefully back onto the pile, Remus leans forward and kisses
Sirius's forehead. "Can I read it when you're finished?"
                                      oOo
Sirius smiles back at the crowd of people gathered inside the bookshop
currently promoting his story. He is still a little dazed at how much success
it has received since he reluctantly sent it to a publisher over a year ago.
Remus had encouraged him, telling him it was brilliant, but Sirius had his
misgivings.
He'd harbored no grand passion for writing before Little Stars. He'd just
needed to do something before the pain killed him, and from the second his
fingers touched the typewriter, it was like a dam had burst. Several feverish
weeks found him hunched over the typewriter, tearing through reams of paper as
he exorcised his demons.
It was frighteningly personal. It was his story. His and Regulus's. Of course
it was masked as a piece of fiction. A fantasy tale of two brothers, princes,
who'd run away after discovering the evil magic that had poisoned their kingdom
and corrupted their king and queen. It was about survival and trust and
forgiveness. It was about love conquering over evil. It was the ending he and
Regulus deserved.
Soon after its publication, letters and emails began pouring in. People were
writing to him, telling him how much they enjoyed his story. How touched they
were by the bravery and loyalty of the two brothers. Before Sirius knew it, it
was jumping to the top of best-seller lists and Sirius's agent was booking him
for signings and television appearances. Sometimes, he wished he could be one
of those misunderstood authors who never left their house. But it made people
happy, and it set him free of the burden of carrying it around inside him, so
he could not really complain.
And truthfully, he enjoyed the small tour of book signings he'd been doing so
far. Small shops and universities loved him because he was young and "up and
coming" and fit in well with their demographic. He'd met some interesting
people and was humbled time and again when "fans" gushed about how much they
loved his book. The question and answer sessions in particular were fun. Sirius
had always felt at home in a crowd though.
"Er, Mr. Boardman—"
"Stubby," Sirius corrected. He'd allowed himself this one privacy. No one but
his agent knew his real name.
"Stubby," the girl said in a rush, "what made you want to write Little Stars?
Did you ever think it would become so popular?"
"Ah, well no, I definitely didn't expect it to take off the way it did. It was
a…therapeutic exercise, writing this. I was going through something rather
difficult and this sort of spilled its way out of me."
"Do you ever resent that other people are sharing in something that is personal
to you?" another person asks.
Sirius shrugs. "I wasn't sure at first. I never really fancied myself as a
writer and Stars is personal, but I think that's why it's done well. I mean,
it's not just something someone wrote to make a buck."
"Is there any truth to the rumor that Little Stars will be made into a film?"
"I dunno, is Ben Barnes too old, do you think?"
There is a smattering of chuckles and skeptical glances shared between a few
people. Sirius and his agent were "in talks" for a screenplay but he had not
committed one way or another just yet about any film prospects.
A male voice towards the back speaks up. "Stubby, the relationship between Max
and Leon is incredibly intense. In fact, there are some people who think there
is subtext within the book that suggests their relationship was more than
brotherly. What do you think of that?"
Several people laugh, many groan, and a small group of voices from the back
give loud cheers. Sirius laughs along with them and shrugs one shoulder. "I
think I'll leave that to the fan fiction writers."
The promotion's manager shuffles over, waving his hands at the crowd, signaling
the end of the Q&A and directing people to line up off to the side. The actual
signing part is always a blur of pages and names scribbled with a flourish and
a smile. Some questions he's learned to answer by rote, he gets them so often.
Occasionally someone gives him a heartfelt confession about how he's inspired
them. He's learned to keep tissues discretely on hand.
Towards the end of his two hours, the crowd is winding down. Some people have
asked him for drinks at a pub nearby. He hasn't decided if he'll go or not.
Probably not. He'll just head back to his room at the hotel and call Remus and
sleep most likely. He wishes Remus could have come this round of signings but
the university needed him apparently.
Sirius bites back a sigh and glances up, unseeing, at the next person, flashing
a quick smile as he reaches automatically for the book and pulls it towards
him. The spine creaks and the cover is worn just a little, like it's been well-
loved and often read. Flipping it open, his eyes land on a room key for the
same hotel he is staying at. His pen halts over the page and he smiles to
himself. It actually isn't the first time he's received such a blatant
proposition, though usually it's just a slip of paper with a phone number.
He glances back up to deliver a smart comment to the brazen soul and feels his
heart shudder to a stop as he looks into the eyes of a face he only ever sees
in his dreams. Perfect, pink lips twist into an achingly familiar smirk. "You
can make it out to Regulus."
Jaw working wordlessly, Sirius can only stare. He stares for so long, Regulus
gives him a concerned look. "Are you quite alright, mate?"
"Reg…"
"Well if you must, you can make it out to Reg, I suppose."
"What…how—"
But Regulus discreetly slides the room key towards Sirius, holding his a finger
to his lips. "Shh. Just sign the book like a good boy. There you go, right
beneath my dedication. Little King, honestly, could you be any more of a
romantic?"
Sirius's hand flies across the page. He isn't sure it's legible, it's shaking
so badly, and it would probably help if he actually looked at the book instead
of his brother, but he can't tear his eyes away. Regulus doesn't seem to mind
though, watching Sirius with an amused smile.
He looks different. Boyish features have matured; the hollow of his cheeks
highlight the same cruel jaw Sirius knows he sports himself. Eyes the color of
broken glass, hidden behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses. Hair shorter than
he'd ever worn it when they were young. Regulus stares back, equally
fascinated, and Sirius wonders what changes he sees.
Someone clears their throat loudly, breaking the trance they've fallen into.
Regulus smiles. "Meet me in an hour?"
Sirius nods and watches his brother tuck the book under his arm and walk out of
the shop.
                                      oOo
It is the longest hour of his life. Sirius doesn't even pay very good attention
to his remaining fans, earning him a pinch from his agent telling him to be
nice. How can he sit here and smile and sign books when Regulus is…
Had he hallucinated? It wasn't possible, was it? He touches the plastic card in
his pocket, reminding himself it was real, and when the last fan leaves and
Sirius is finally free, he practically runs the few streets over to the hotel.
His heart hammers a mad beat against his ribs as he makes his way through the
lobby and to the lift. Every stop that isn't his floor makes Sirius want to
scream, but once he finally gets to his destination, he's reluctant to get out.
He hesitates, the door key poised to swipe. What if he's not there? The fear of
all the pain coming back, of losing Regulus all over again, is too much to
bear. It had almost destroyed him the last time. He couldn't take it again.
But if it's really him. Sirius wants his brother back more than anything. He
would kill for it. He'd almost died for want of it. He swipes the card and
pushes the door open. The room is nice. Nicer than his own—spacious and
handsomely decorated. Sitting casually on the edge of the bed, fingers rapidly
tapping his mobile phone, is Regulus. He looks up when Sirius enters, his face
splitting into a broad smile.
Sirius forgets how to breathe.
"Regulus?"
                                      oOo
Regulus expected the punch to the face. Truly he did. Sirius had always been
one to shoot first and ask questions later, and it was no less than he deserved
after what he did. He'd just hoped he was wrong.
He dabs at his bleeding lip, tongue rolling across his teeth, tasting the
coppery tang as he checks for further damage. He smiles again, feeling stinging
pain as his lip splits even further. "Lovely to see you too, brother."
"You're supposed to be dead," Sirius spits, his fists clenched at his sides.
Regulus arches one brow. "Sorry to disappoint."
Sirius glares at him, half furious, the other half scared shitless, if Regulus
had to guess. He makes the foolish mistake of trying to approach his brother
but Sirius tenses again, body ready to spring, and Regulus changes his mind. He
holds up his hands in surrender. "Let me explain."
"I mourned you," Sirius says in a trembling voice. "For years, Regulus."
"I know. Believe me, Sirius, if there had been another way…"
But there hadn't been.
After the falling out with the Malfoys and then the disastrous fire, he'd had
no choice but to go into hiding. With a generous bribe to the coroner he was
declared a dead man while some stranger was buried with his name. Of course,
not everyone had been convinced. He'd been seen fleeing the country, and
Malfoy's men tracked him across three continents before he hid himself away in
the blistering heat among the kangaroos.
He started over then. Left everything and everyone behind. It hadn't been easy.
Loneliness was his constant companion. He grieved for his parents. Funny,
because he was delighted to be free of them, but someone had to miss them,
didn't they?
He tried not to think about Sirius much in those early days, made easier by the
lack of news from his contact in England. He didn't need a report to know
Sirius was taking news of his death badly. He knew Sirius—knew how passionate
he could be. He loved with a fierce intensity that was borderline worrisome, so
it followed that his sorrow would be as equally severe. At least he had Lupin
to keep him company. But it pained Regulus nevertheless to get the occasional
letter from Andromeda, updating him on Sirius's well-being (or lack thereof).
But he couldn't go back, couldn't make contact, because they were watching
Sirius and waiting for Regulus to make a stupid move. Regulus was just grateful
the Potters' name still held worth among the old families or Sirius would have
been rounded up and held as bait faster than Regulus could blink.
Some days he tried to forget he had a brother. Tried to simply live a new life
among friendly people. Some days it worked. He found work on a fishing boat;
he'd made off with enough money to keep himself comfortable, but restlessness
would not let him sit idly by and the work was exhausting enough to allow him
to collapse at night into a dreamless sleep. He made friends with some of the
other crew who made laughing easy again.
He even met someone. Regulus had been smitten almost instantly as she deftly
tried to make off with his wallet, batting long blonde lashes at him, pressed
tightly together at a club. Aurora was clever and lively, had a wicked sense of
humor, and like himself was living with the memories of a past she just wanted
to forget. She eased the loneliness in his heart and in his bed—never
completely, but it was enough.
She was the reason he'd come back to England to find Sirius. After about his
millionth reread of Sirius's book, she'd had enough.
"You want to see him. We're going."
"I can't, Rory. They'll—"
"You said that business was done! Malfoy is in prison! Your cousin sent you the
news article. What's stopping you?"
Just because Malfoy had been arrested did not mean his cousins would not still
want his blood—he'd only singlehandedly exposed the family's dark dealings to
the public—but she was right. He ached for his brother. Had read Little Stars
cover to cover countless times because in those pages, they were together
again. Family rivalries be damned, he was on a plane that very week.
And now he's here and Sirius is looking at him like he can't trust his eyes, as
if Regulus might vanish into a puff of smoke at any second. Taking a chance
Regulus reaches out again, carefully, and this time Sirius doesn't pull away or
throw a punch.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. I wanted to tell you I was okay but it was too dangerous. I
know you'll hate hearing it, but it was for your own good. Forgive me?"
The apology seems to do the trick because Sirius sags. His hands unclench and
something fires behind his eyes. "God, it's really you."
When Regulus smiles this time, he sees Sirius's lips twitching, as if they're
trying to mimic the gesture but have forgotten how. Lacing the fingers of one
hand together, Regulus leans close. The hitching of Sirius's breath sends an
electrode down his spine. Their lips are scant inches apart. "It's me."
                                      oOo
They disregard the Employees Only sign and claim the small garden on the roof
of the hotel as their own for the evening. Sirius still can't wrap his head
around Regulus's story. If he weren't so damned happy Regulus was alive, Sirius
might want to kill him for being so reckless. Exposing one of most powerful
family's dirty dealings without a care for his own safety. Of all the times to
start take after his older brother…
"You wouldn't have stood by and watched, Sirius. I couldn't either. It was the
exact same thing as when I was Snatched. Except we were the ones profiting. The
Blacks, the Malfoys, the Lestranges…all the old families at the top of the
chain. It was sick. I'd had enough."
"Idiot," Sirius calls him, fondly, clasping his brother's hand tightly as they
watch the blue-black sky slowly begin to lighten. Long, delicate fingers reach
over to trace the outline of the R tattooed on his arm. "Like that, do you?"
Regulus lifts a brow, but Sirius sees the smug look in his eyes. Regulus has
always done smug very well. "Yes, actually. Bet Lupin loved it."
"It made things difficult for a while," Sirius admits, remembering the closed
off look in Remus's eyes those first several months together.
"I'm sure it did," Regulus says, taking a long drag on his cigarette and
blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. "Would you leave him?" he asks suddenly.
"We could run away together. Like we planned."
Sirius doesn't need to think about the answer. "No"
"I thought you'd do anything to make me happy," Regulus says, and the petulant
whine at the edges of his voice make Sirius chuckle.
"If me leaving and hurting a person I care about is what makes you happy,
you're not the person I thought you were." He meant for that to be more
lighthearted, but the words sober him as he realizes how true they are. If
Regulus wished for it, Sirius would take down the moon, but he would never hurt
Remus.
Regulus's expression is unreadable. "Really?"
"We're not good for each other, Reg," Sirius says with a sigh. He brushes his
knuckles over Regulus's cheek. "We hurt each other the last time. I don't want
that to happen again. Maybe that's why we were born as brothers. It…wasn't
meant to be."
A teasing smile twists the corners of Regulus's lips. "My, haven't you become
wise in your old age."
"Wanker. I'm not old," Sirius says, pinching Regulus for emphasis. "And what
about you? Would you leave that bird you found? After she flew you halfway
across the world just to see me again?"
The question lingers while Regulus lights another cigarette, red embers burning
as he takes a long pull. Sirius plucks it from his fingers, inhaling deeply
around the filter and waits. Finally, "No. She's great Rory…I think I love her
actually. I just wanted to see what you'd say. I might have lost respect for
you if you'd said yes."
Sirius kicks him. "Arse."
Regulus takes his cigarette back, considering it closely, as if reading a
message in the curling white smoke, and says, "Plus, she is carrying my bastard
child. Suppose I have to do the decent thing and marry her."
It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in before Sirius sits up, goggling
at his brother who is equal parts proud and amused. "I'm going to be an uncle?"
Nodding, Regulus stubs the half-finished cigarette out and Sirius cannot
contain the mile-wide smile from spreading across his face. "A baby, Reg?"
"A baby me," Regulus confirms, giving a grunt when Sirius tackles him in a hug.
"Get off, you oaf!"
But Sirius is delirious with joy. He squeezes Regulus tight and plants a kiss
in his hair, Regulus making only feeble attempts at removing him until he gives
in to Sirius's affection. "We'll be a proper family, Reg."
"Yeah." There is a nervous edge to Regulus's voice "You'll help me, right?"
"Promise. Don't be scared, Reggie—"
"I'm not scared."
"Liar." Sirius rests his forehead against Regulus's. Despite how not scared he
is, Regulus clutches his hand like he might never let go. "Don't you worry,
Reg. I'm here. I'm always going to be here for you. I promise."
Regulus lets out a shaky breath. "Me and you, yeah?"
"Always."
***** Epilogue *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sirius's isn't even done knocking when the door wrenches open revealing a
harried looking Regulus and a squalling, black-haired toddler.
"Oh, thank God, here," Regulus breaths, shoving the baby at Sirius.
Accepting his nephew with a wry grin, Sirius says, "Oh, I'm fine, thank you for
asking."
Regulus gives him a look that could melt steel and Sirius puts his sarcasm away
for now. "He's been tormenting Castor all night. I can't leave them in a room
together because he's making his brother mad and I can't separate them or they
cry for each other like they're being murdered."
Sirius considers his nephew's pink face and watery blue-grey eyes. "We're you
being a bad boy, Polly?" he asks, poking the baby in his belly until the
corners of his mouth turn up.
"Don't call him that," Regulus says wearily, glaring one final time before
marching away.
Sirius makes a face at Regulus's retreating back and leans the now giggling
child over his shoulder who gives a happy cry of "Seeus!" which Sirius has
accepted is baby-ish for his name. He follows Regulus down the hall and watches
as his brother scoops up Polly's twin, murmuring quietly and wiping his face.
Angry red welts dot his chubby little arms.
"What the fuck happened?" Sirius asks, gesturing to the marks.
"Language," Regulus reminds him and gives a pointed look at the child resting
on Sirius's shoulder. "Pollux has learned how to pinch."
As if on cue, tiny fingers dig into his cheek and pinch, much harder than
Sirius would expect from a fifteen-month-old. "Ouch! Bugger!"
"Sirius!"
"What? He's not going to say it."
"Buhbuh!" Pollux cries, pinching Sirius again and earning him another glare
from Regulus.
"I'm going to clean him up. Just"—Regulus waves vaguely at Sirius, hoisting
Castor onto his hip—"try not to kill him. Lord knows the thought has crossed my
mind more than once tonight."
Regulus disappears from the room and Sirius is left with a prodding, pinching
toddler. Untangling a lock of hair from one sticky fist, Sirius flops onto the
sofa and bounces his nephew on his knee.
"What are you making so much trouble for, hmm? Are you just mad that your dad
named you Pollux?"
Pollux claps his hands, smiling with pearly white teeth. "Seeus!"
"Yes, I know, it's much better name. Thank you." Sirius smoothes back the fine
hair on Polly's head before pulling him close again, until they are almost nose
to nose. Pollux giggles. "Now, I know it's fun, picking on your brother.
Believe me. Little brothers are nothing but trouble. Complete tossers. But they
look up to you."
If any of this makes sense to the squirming child in his arms, Sirius can't
tell, but he continues all the same. "It's not easy, Polly. He'll love you—want
to make you proud. And if you ever let him down, you'll hate yourself for ages.
So stop pinching, you little brat! That shit hurts!" he says, slapping Pollux
lightly on the hand as it digs into his chest.
A trembling pout dances on the edges of Pollux's lips that Sirius kisses away
quickly. "Save those tears, there is a hell of a lot more coming, kid," Sirius
says with sincerity.
Regulus's voice sounds to his right. "You're an idiot."
"What?" he asks innocently.
Regulus holds up a small baby monitor; Sirius spies its partner on the end
table beside him and grins sheepishly. Falling beside him on the sofa with a
heavy thump, Regulus yawns loudly, and wraps his arms around the dozing baby on
his chest. Sirius has to physically restrain Pollux who immediately reaches
with pinching fingers towards his brother. "You're not a bloody crab, for God's
sake, leave Cassie alone."
"Sirius, if I have to tell you one more time," Regulus warns sleepily, eyes
closed. "And I'm not a tosser."
"Are too."
"Hmmm. Castor, did I ever tell you how annoying older brothers can be? Think
they know everything, they do. Utter prats, that's all they are."
"Prats that come over at bollocks o'clock at night because the baby won't go to
sleep? Or come over when your wife needs a night off because you couldn't
handle two small children on your own? Yeah…I'm a real arse."
Regulus leans against his shoulder, head drooping. "Just utilizing my
resources."
He is asleep within seconds, snoring lightly and clutching Castor close. Sirius
wiggles one arm around his brother's shoulders, rocking his nephew in the other
until his attempts to wriggle free cease and his eyes grow heavy.
Hours or minutes later, Sirius is woken by a bright light flashing and a quiet
giggle. He opens one eye, peering at the offending source. Aurora is pointing
the camera end of her phone at him, clad in a tight dress and heels that scream
"fuck me" and not "married and mother of two". Sirius would never let his wife
out of the house like that. Not that he'd ever take a wife. He is sure Remus
would have a thing or two to say about it. If he didn't know how much she
adored his brother, Sirius would string her up by her hair.
"The hell, Rory? What was that for?" he asks with a groan.
A dark chuckle floats across the room as Aurora tucks her mobile away.
"Blackmail," she says, heels clicking down the hall.
Regulus mumbles something incomprehensible and Sirius smiles. His left arm is
dead with the weight of a well-fed toddler and Regulus is still passed out
against his shoulder, Castor sandwiched between them. Trapped for the time
being, Sirius yawns once and leans his head atop Regulus's as he begins
drifting back off to sleep, knowing that, despite the late nights and panicked
phone calls, there isn't anywhere else he'd rather be.
Chapter End Notes
     My lovely m3535 mentioned something I was already secretly hoping for
     and I decided to beg shamelessly. If anyone wants to draw the picture
     Aurora took in this last scene (or any art work for that matter)
     please feel free. It would make my life and I'd love you forever.
     update: SOMEONE DID! Check_it_out!
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