fic: Never Forget
Title: Never Forget
Rating: R
Word Count: 530
Pairing(s): Sirius/Regulus
Warnings: underage thoughts (unrequited 11/10 with no actual sexual acts)
Summary: Regulus has his mother's eyes and his father's temper.
Never Forget
Regulus has his mother's eyes and his father's temper. When things do not go his way, he throws a fit to rival a prince. But that is his name. The Little Prince. Sirius knows now why Regulus gets whatever he wants-he was bred like a stallion to do the same. But looking at him, at the small boy who turns ten in the morning, Sirius wants to smother him.
"Mummy, what is a Mudblood?" Regulus asks at dinner that evening.
Sirius snaps his fork to his plate. The air is stale and cold, bitterly unloved.
"A filthy mixed creature with Muggle blood," says mother.
Sirius grits his knife through two potatoes, scraping the fine china.
"Disgusting beasts not meant for procreation," says father. "It would be best to chop their bits off before they have the means to breed."
That is the final straw; Sirius stands up, chair scooting inelegantly across the floor. "May I be excused?" But he does not wait for an answer-they are not listening anyway, have not listened for years, except tonight they will, if he has to choke the life out of their little prince to make them.
Sirius waits in the shadows of his brother's bedroom until Regulus has already drawn down his pants and is about to crawl into his bed. With a grand leap, Sirius pins Regulus to the sheets from behind and presses his face into the pillows until Regulus' screams are so muffled it's nearly pathetic, like wringing the life out of the runt of a litter.
And Regulus is a runt-petite, inarticulate, sleek. Like a little bird that doesn't understand why it has wings.
"Don't scream," Sirius growls. He feels his brother's head shake yes, and he lets up, watches Regulus gasp and heave for breath as he scrambles away. Sirius doesn't let him get far, presses his naked little brother to the headboard, chest-to-chest.
"You've come to lecture me again, haven't you?" Regulus breathes. He is trembling. Sirius finds it beautiful-he knows it means Regulus isn't like them: he feels. "I don't care what you say. I believe mum and dad. I love them."
"And you don't think I love you?" Sirius asks seriously, hand at Regulus' pale, slim throat that could snap in onetwothree seconds if he wanted it to.
"I think you have to love me, because I'm your brother."
Sirius wants to slap him in the mouth until he bleeds understanding. It is getting harder to protect and shield him, almost impossible now. He relents, because when his fingers squeeze, Regulus' eyes look just like mum's.
"Good night," Sirius says, slipping off the bed and back to his own room for a long, guilty wank.
Regulus lays awake for some time, touching all the places Sirius has left marks on his skin-the throat, the stomach, the hips, the thighs. Little marks, indiscernible to the naked eye. Regulus never forgets them, not even six years later, when he looks up into the eyes of the Dark Lord and holds out his arm and lets his Aunt Bellatrix whisper dark promises in his ears.
She rips Sirius away, but Regulus never forgets.
Rating: R
Word Count: 530
Pairing(s): Sirius/Regulus
Warnings: underage thoughts (unrequited 11/10 with no actual sexual acts)
Summary: Regulus has his mother's eyes and his father's temper.
Never Forget
Regulus has his mother's eyes and his father's temper. When things do not go his way, he throws a fit to rival a prince. But that is his name. The Little Prince. Sirius knows now why Regulus gets whatever he wants-he was bred like a stallion to do the same. But looking at him, at the small boy who turns ten in the morning, Sirius wants to smother him.
"Mummy, what is a Mudblood?" Regulus asks at dinner that evening.
Sirius snaps his fork to his plate. The air is stale and cold, bitterly unloved.
"A filthy mixed creature with Muggle blood," says mother.
Sirius grits his knife through two potatoes, scraping the fine china.
"Disgusting beasts not meant for procreation," says father. "It would be best to chop their bits off before they have the means to breed."
That is the final straw; Sirius stands up, chair scooting inelegantly across the floor. "May I be excused?" But he does not wait for an answer-they are not listening anyway, have not listened for years, except tonight they will, if he has to choke the life out of their little prince to make them.
Sirius waits in the shadows of his brother's bedroom until Regulus has already drawn down his pants and is about to crawl into his bed. With a grand leap, Sirius pins Regulus to the sheets from behind and presses his face into the pillows until Regulus' screams are so muffled it's nearly pathetic, like wringing the life out of the runt of a litter.
And Regulus is a runt-petite, inarticulate, sleek. Like a little bird that doesn't understand why it has wings.
"Don't scream," Sirius growls. He feels his brother's head shake yes, and he lets up, watches Regulus gasp and heave for breath as he scrambles away. Sirius doesn't let him get far, presses his naked little brother to the headboard, chest-to-chest.
"You've come to lecture me again, haven't you?" Regulus breathes. He is trembling. Sirius finds it beautiful-he knows it means Regulus isn't like them: he feels. "I don't care what you say. I believe mum and dad. I love them."
"And you don't think I love you?" Sirius asks seriously, hand at Regulus' pale, slim throat that could snap in onetwothree seconds if he wanted it to.
"I think you have to love me, because I'm your brother."
Sirius wants to slap him in the mouth until he bleeds understanding. It is getting harder to protect and shield him, almost impossible now. He relents, because when his fingers squeeze, Regulus' eyes look just like mum's.
"Good night," Sirius says, slipping off the bed and back to his own room for a long, guilty wank.
Regulus lays awake for some time, touching all the places Sirius has left marks on his skin-the throat, the stomach, the hips, the thighs. Little marks, indiscernible to the naked eye. Regulus never forgets them, not even six years later, when he looks up into the eyes of the Dark Lord and holds out his arm and lets his Aunt Bellatrix whisper dark promises in his ears.
She rips Sirius away, but Regulus never forgets.