Fire-to-Fire
Title: Fire-to-Fire
Pairing: implied Sirius/Regulus; implied Sirius/Remus
Prompt: absent
Words: 457
Rating: PG13 for innuendo & language
Warnings: Implied incest. Language.
Notes: This marks my triumphant return (*snort*) to sortinghatdrabs, where the challenge was Regulus/Marauder. C'mon... I had to! And let me tell you -- all of the drabbles were so good this time around! Go read! (PS: Banners aren't up yet, thankyouverymuch! *wink*)
"You weren't at breakfast."
Cross-legged on the ground, Sirius gazes up at his brother and blows a ring of smoke in a perfect, empty, echoing O. Then he shrugs.
Regulus - as quick-tempered as Sirius but with none of his lazy grace - leans down to whip the fag from Sirius's mouth. He crushes it beneath his polished heel. "Why not?"
Their gazes meet, and Regulus immediately knows why not. He reads Sirius with the precision of a seer, or maybe it's just an intimate ease - lips too red, eyes lit up like that cherry he just ground into the dirt, collar pulled too high - and he wants to break Sirius's smirk in half with his fist.
Sirius shrugs again, and Regulus toes at the ground like a bull, making neat little divots in the charmed-perfect grass. "I said why not?"
"And I didn't say a word."
"You don't have to. I know everything. It's that filthy fucking half-breed…"
And then there it is; there Sirius is -he's on his feet so fast that Regulus doesn’t even see him get there, and he doesn't even draw his wand. Typical. It's like he forgot it exists. He just grabs his brother by his starchy-white collar and drags him up the six centimetres that separate them in height; drags him up until they are eye-to-eye, grey-to-grey, fire-to-fire: just the way Regulus wants it. Regulus's anger snuffs out like a candle, but its heat hasn't left.
"If you say one more fucking word, I'm going to make you swallow your fucking teeth. Do you hear me?"
"Loud. And. Clear." His mouth says it, but his eyes don't.
Their faces are so close that their lashes are brushing, and their noses, and Regulus runs his tongue over his bottom lip and it skims against his brother's as it parts the seam of his mouth.
Sirius drops him like he's hexed. Regulus hits the ground and stumbles, crashing against Sirius's chest. Sirius shoves him back in horror, and this time he draws his wand. It's shaking.
"Get the fuck away from me."
Regulus straightens up and stares, his expression calm and careful. He doesn't move.
"I said get out!"
"I am out," Regulus answers, quirking one eyebrow. He lifts his chin to gesture at the sky, clear and blue and somehow more threatening for it. Perfect.
"Get away from me."
Regulus tugs pointedly at the waist of his trousers and slips two fingers underneath. "What's the problem, Sirius? Trouble looking at me face-on? You're used to seeing me from behind, is that it?"
Sirius's wand is drawn, but the magic comes from somewhere else - his clenched fist, his tightened neck, his shallow-breathing-heaving chest - and the grass at Regulus's feet bursts into flames.
Regulus smiles.
Pairing: implied Sirius/Regulus; implied Sirius/Remus
Prompt: absent
Words: 457
Rating: PG13 for innuendo & language
Warnings: Implied incest. Language.
Notes: This marks my triumphant return (*snort*) to sortinghatdrabs, where the challenge was Regulus/Marauder. C'mon... I had to! And let me tell you -- all of the drabbles were so good this time around! Go read! (PS: Banners aren't up yet, thankyouverymuch! *wink*)
"You weren't at breakfast."
Cross-legged on the ground, Sirius gazes up at his brother and blows a ring of smoke in a perfect, empty, echoing O. Then he shrugs.
Regulus - as quick-tempered as Sirius but with none of his lazy grace - leans down to whip the fag from Sirius's mouth. He crushes it beneath his polished heel. "Why not?"
Their gazes meet, and Regulus immediately knows why not. He reads Sirius with the precision of a seer, or maybe it's just an intimate ease - lips too red, eyes lit up like that cherry he just ground into the dirt, collar pulled too high - and he wants to break Sirius's smirk in half with his fist.
Sirius shrugs again, and Regulus toes at the ground like a bull, making neat little divots in the charmed-perfect grass. "I said why not?"
"And I didn't say a word."
"You don't have to. I know everything. It's that filthy fucking half-breed…"
And then there it is; there Sirius is -he's on his feet so fast that Regulus doesn’t even see him get there, and he doesn't even draw his wand. Typical. It's like he forgot it exists. He just grabs his brother by his starchy-white collar and drags him up the six centimetres that separate them in height; drags him up until they are eye-to-eye, grey-to-grey, fire-to-fire: just the way Regulus wants it. Regulus's anger snuffs out like a candle, but its heat hasn't left.
"If you say one more fucking word, I'm going to make you swallow your fucking teeth. Do you hear me?"
"Loud. And. Clear." His mouth says it, but his eyes don't.
Their faces are so close that their lashes are brushing, and their noses, and Regulus runs his tongue over his bottom lip and it skims against his brother's as it parts the seam of his mouth.
Sirius drops him like he's hexed. Regulus hits the ground and stumbles, crashing against Sirius's chest. Sirius shoves him back in horror, and this time he draws his wand. It's shaking.
"Get the fuck away from me."
Regulus straightens up and stares, his expression calm and careful. He doesn't move.
"I said get out!"
"I am out," Regulus answers, quirking one eyebrow. He lifts his chin to gesture at the sky, clear and blue and somehow more threatening for it. Perfect.
"Get away from me."
Regulus tugs pointedly at the waist of his trousers and slips two fingers underneath. "What's the problem, Sirius? Trouble looking at me face-on? You're used to seeing me from behind, is that it?"
Sirius's wand is drawn, but the magic comes from somewhere else - his clenched fist, his tightened neck, his shallow-breathing-heaving chest - and the grass at Regulus's feet bursts into flames.
Regulus smiles.