(no subject)
Title: Blood
Pairing: Sirius/Regulus
Word Count: 323
Rating: PG-13
A/N: So, I wanted to write for dogdaysofsummer but I also felt like doing some twincest (Weasley variety). By these powers combined, I offer you...my first foray into the world of Blackcest!
When it happened (for it only happened once, freezing warmth and unsettlingly isolated) neither of them had anything for it; it was a fight that shouldn’t have been, a collision that landed wrong. I hate you hissed Sirius, meaning it, and Regulus swatted at him with a force only a brother could muster.
And then…then Regulus meant to hiss blood traitor, and to hiss it better then Sirius had hissed his hate, because he was a Slytherin and they knew how to hiss, damn it, but instead he faltered and just whispered blood. Blood, Regulus heard, falling from his own lips, blood, blood, and he wasn’t so surprised when the ire faded from Sirius’s eyes, because he knew it was fading from his own.
Blood, Sirius agreed, and when he lifted fingers to brush his brother’s cheek Regulus didn’t stop him, just breathed heavily through his nose and closed his eyes. He could feel hands larger then his own (but with the same shape, fingers long and aristocratic, tapered at the ends) cupping his face, moving to explore the crevices of his neck, the soft familiar hair. Blood, Regulus heard Sirius whisper, again, and he wished in vain both that they’d never started and that they’d never stop.
When their lips met, soft and well treated to chapped and ignored, there were harsh moans and rough breaths and Regulus saw stars behind eyelids he refused to open. Sirius, he whimpered, guttural, in the back of his throat, and listened to his brother laugh into his mouth.
Five moments seconds years more and they were pulling back, and Regulus was hissing traitor and Sirius was hissing bastard and dragging his trunk out of the open front door. Later, Regulus tried to contain himself to imagining only the departure, his hissing (better then his brother’s)-but his brain was against him, moaning a cadence of blood, blood as he made a valiant effort to sleep.
Pairing: Sirius/Regulus
Word Count: 323
Rating: PG-13
A/N: So, I wanted to write for dogdaysofsummer but I also felt like doing some twincest (Weasley variety). By these powers combined, I offer you...my first foray into the world of Blackcest!
When it happened (for it only happened once, freezing warmth and unsettlingly isolated) neither of them had anything for it; it was a fight that shouldn’t have been, a collision that landed wrong. I hate you hissed Sirius, meaning it, and Regulus swatted at him with a force only a brother could muster.
And then…then Regulus meant to hiss blood traitor, and to hiss it better then Sirius had hissed his hate, because he was a Slytherin and they knew how to hiss, damn it, but instead he faltered and just whispered blood. Blood, Regulus heard, falling from his own lips, blood, blood, and he wasn’t so surprised when the ire faded from Sirius’s eyes, because he knew it was fading from his own.
Blood, Sirius agreed, and when he lifted fingers to brush his brother’s cheek Regulus didn’t stop him, just breathed heavily through his nose and closed his eyes. He could feel hands larger then his own (but with the same shape, fingers long and aristocratic, tapered at the ends) cupping his face, moving to explore the crevices of his neck, the soft familiar hair. Blood, Regulus heard Sirius whisper, again, and he wished in vain both that they’d never started and that they’d never stop.
When their lips met, soft and well treated to chapped and ignored, there were harsh moans and rough breaths and Regulus saw stars behind eyelids he refused to open. Sirius, he whimpered, guttural, in the back of his throat, and listened to his brother laugh into his mouth.
Five moments seconds years more and they were pulling back, and Regulus was hissing traitor and Sirius was hissing bastard and dragging his trunk out of the open front door. Later, Regulus tried to contain himself to imagining only the departure, his hissing (better then his brother’s)-but his brain was against him, moaning a cadence of blood, blood as he made a valiant effort to sleep.