(no subject)
Title: A Game For Equals
Rating: Barely PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way shape or form
This is a drabble I wrote for ivan_desinger. It's the first Sirius/Regulus fic I've ever written and the title is tragic, I know.
“Do you think you can hide up here forever?” Sirius asked from the top of the stairs.
From the attic window, Regulus glared back at his older brother, resentful of the intrusion.
Sirius grinned in response, and Regulus’s resentment deepened to a dull throb that beat to the same rhythm of his heart. Was it not bad enough that Sirius garnered all of their parent’s attention, despite the fact that he was in Gryffindor and a general blood traitor? Did he have to encroach upon Regulus’s privacy as well?
‘It’s not fair,’ Regulus thought angrily. ‘It’s not fair that I should always have to be second best to him.’
‘Oh, kitten,’ a voice sounding suspiciously like his mother’s purred. ‘Whoever breathed the notion of fairness into your pretty little head?’
Regulus gave Sirius another sharp glare, determined to ignore him. It was always futile, for Sirius was not one to be ignored.
“What’re you doing up here, Reggie?” Sirius asked devilishly, crossing the attic floor so that he stood next to Regulus. “So far from Mommy’s reach and so alone,” the last word was breathed, feather soft against the skin of Regulus’s neck. So that was why he was here.
Regulus could not say that he was not pleased, for he was, deeply. Sirius’s desire bestowed a level of equality that Regulus had never had with Sirius before he came into his room one night, panting, whispering rough words and practically pleading. Regulus reveled, as he always did when Sirius presented this game to him, in the power Sirius was granting him. The power of secrecy between the two of them and the power to share space with Sirius in which he was not inferior.
“Want something?” Regulus teased, arching into the hand Sirius had placed into his thigh.
“Don’t be coy,” Sirius said, but he was smiling into Regulus’s neck, his hand delving into Regulus’s robes and prying apart his thighs.
Regulus sighed a soft, “Yes,” glanced at the lit candle next to the windowsill, the only light in the entire attic. “Turn off the light,” Regulus told Sirius and was delighted when Sirius obediently did so.
It was, as it had been since they began this affair, easier in the dark. Sensations were heightened without the cumbersome burden of sight; it was easy to forget how much they looked alike, for they felt so different under each other’s hands. In the darkness, every worry was smoothed away leaving only pleasure.
It was only fitting. After all, they were the Black brothers, darkness ran in their blood.
Rating: Barely PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way shape or form
This is a drabble I wrote for ivan_desinger. It's the first Sirius/Regulus fic I've ever written and the title is tragic, I know.
“Do you think you can hide up here forever?” Sirius asked from the top of the stairs.
From the attic window, Regulus glared back at his older brother, resentful of the intrusion.
Sirius grinned in response, and Regulus’s resentment deepened to a dull throb that beat to the same rhythm of his heart. Was it not bad enough that Sirius garnered all of their parent’s attention, despite the fact that he was in Gryffindor and a general blood traitor? Did he have to encroach upon Regulus’s privacy as well?
‘It’s not fair,’ Regulus thought angrily. ‘It’s not fair that I should always have to be second best to him.’
‘Oh, kitten,’ a voice sounding suspiciously like his mother’s purred. ‘Whoever breathed the notion of fairness into your pretty little head?’
Regulus gave Sirius another sharp glare, determined to ignore him. It was always futile, for Sirius was not one to be ignored.
“What’re you doing up here, Reggie?” Sirius asked devilishly, crossing the attic floor so that he stood next to Regulus. “So far from Mommy’s reach and so alone,” the last word was breathed, feather soft against the skin of Regulus’s neck. So that was why he was here.
Regulus could not say that he was not pleased, for he was, deeply. Sirius’s desire bestowed a level of equality that Regulus had never had with Sirius before he came into his room one night, panting, whispering rough words and practically pleading. Regulus reveled, as he always did when Sirius presented this game to him, in the power Sirius was granting him. The power of secrecy between the two of them and the power to share space with Sirius in which he was not inferior.
“Want something?” Regulus teased, arching into the hand Sirius had placed into his thigh.
“Don’t be coy,” Sirius said, but he was smiling into Regulus’s neck, his hand delving into Regulus’s robes and prying apart his thighs.
Regulus sighed a soft, “Yes,” glanced at the lit candle next to the windowsill, the only light in the entire attic. “Turn off the light,” Regulus told Sirius and was delighted when Sirius obediently did so.
It was, as it had been since they began this affair, easier in the dark. Sensations were heightened without the cumbersome burden of sight; it was easy to forget how much they looked alike, for they felt so different under each other’s hands. In the darkness, every worry was smoothed away leaving only pleasure.
It was only fitting. After all, they were the Black brothers, darkness ran in their blood.