Smut
Title: Spiced.
Rating: NC-17.
Summery: A day alone proves rather eventful. PWP.
Warnings: Incest, slight non-con, cross-dressing.
Pairing: Regulus/Sirius.
Regulus was missing. Sirius honestly didn’t care but the house was big and no-one else was home and if he hadn’t been forced to come home early from James’ house early he wouldn’t have been interested.
He’d checked the drawing room, the kitchen, much to the House Elves horror, the dinning room, the library, his fathers bedroom, the nursery, the bathroom, all the guestrooms - even the attic but Regulus hadn’t been in any of them.
There was only one room he hadn’t checked.
Sirius hadn’t been in his mother’s bedroom since he was a little child. His mother had still been well then, before her first born son’s rejection broke her heart and her sanity. He remembered it like a dream, obscured by hatred and the years, pink covered by clouds of white powder and the soft caress of the silk she wore. His mother’ cheek, warm to his touch when she picked him up. The opulent smell of the perfume she sprayed herself with - dark, exotic spices from far away lands that cost half the world.
Sometimes, although he’d long since convinced himself it was a dream, he remembered her kiss.
He pushed the door open slowly.
His brother was there - facing away from Sirius, standing in front of their mother’s large, ornate dressing table, bent over to pick up one of the many iridescent pieces of silk strewn on the floor.
Sirius blinked, not believing his eyes.
Regulus was half-naked with nothing to cover his modesty save for a small black skirt that Sirius vaguely remembered belonging to their mother but it had never seemed that tight before, nor that short. Regulus must have altered it, tailored it with magic to fit.
There was something about the skirt, the way a swish of Regulus’ hips sent it up and let Sirius catch a good glimpse of his arse, pert and untouched, that made him instantly hard.
“Shouldn’t be playing with mother’s things, Regulus.” He chided.
The boy spun round, dropping the piece of pink silk in his hands, staring at Sirius in horror. His face was painted - lips red and full, opening to let out his shocked gasp, eyes lined with kohl - widened with fright, cheeks flushed with shame. If it wasn’t for his flat, boyish chest he would have made a beautiful girl.
“Sirius!” he squeaked fearfully, trying to cover himself - blushing bright red.
Sirius advanced upon the boy, grinning wickedly. Regulus backed away, hitting the dressing table, trembling.
“I…I know what this must look like…” he began but Sirius reached out and caught him around the waist, pressed against him and kissed him.
“What? What are you doing?” Regulus gasped, trying to shove him away, struggling in fear. Sirius growled, shoving him round and down onto the dressing table, the mirror reflecting the image back on him.
“Quiet now, Regulus.” He whispered, working the skirt up and stroking his fingers gently over Regulus’ arse, feeling him shiver under the touch.
“Don’t…” Regulus whimpered.
Sirius ignored him, hunting the table for anything that would ease his way. He found a small pot of cream, uncapped it and slicked his fingers. He rubbed them over Regulus’s opening, feeling the boy tense beneath him and then pushed one finger in. Regulus’ gasped, clenching down tightly on the intrusion.
“Wanted this, didn’t you?” Sirius murmured, thrusting his finger deeper - sliding in another two, laughing at the way Regulus gasped and squirmed and bucked against them; his hips rubbing against the cold oak of the dressing table - cock hard despite his protests.
Sirius worked his fingers deeper, enjoying the throaty half-ashamed moans that issued from his brother. Regulus gasped, eyes wide, rocking erratically back on to them.
“No more, Sirius. Please!”
Sirius reached one arm around, stroking Regulus’ cherry red lips and then shoved two fingers into his mouth and Regulus’ bit down instinctively, whimpering around them. Sirius cried out, pulling away from Regulus, rubbing his hand and then pulled up his robe, reaching back for the cream, spreading it over his cock and then guided himself into Regulus. The boy hissed, gritting his teeth and dug his fingers into the table.
“Sirius.” He moaned, looking back over his shoulder, mouth open as he rolled his hips back to take his brother deeper. Sirius leant forward, pressing against him, the material of the skit, pushed up around Regulus’s waist rubbing against him, and kissed him softly.
Regulus sighed in pleasure, tuning back and gazing at himself in the mirror from dark, lidded eyes - the picture of dishevelment - his brother’s cock in his arse. he groaned eyes wide and came hard over the table, clenching tightly around Sirius. Sirius for his part moaned, thrusting faster, harder as Regulus thrashed, knocking pots and jars and bottles onto the floor.
The perfume bottle smashed, soaking the carpet and opulent spice filled the air, enveloping and coating the rutting, animalistic boys, and with one spiced kiss Sirius came.
Rating: NC-17.
Summery: A day alone proves rather eventful. PWP.
Warnings: Incest, slight non-con, cross-dressing.
Pairing: Regulus/Sirius.
Regulus was missing. Sirius honestly didn’t care but the house was big and no-one else was home and if he hadn’t been forced to come home early from James’ house early he wouldn’t have been interested.
He’d checked the drawing room, the kitchen, much to the House Elves horror, the dinning room, the library, his fathers bedroom, the nursery, the bathroom, all the guestrooms - even the attic but Regulus hadn’t been in any of them.
There was only one room he hadn’t checked.
Sirius hadn’t been in his mother’s bedroom since he was a little child. His mother had still been well then, before her first born son’s rejection broke her heart and her sanity. He remembered it like a dream, obscured by hatred and the years, pink covered by clouds of white powder and the soft caress of the silk she wore. His mother’ cheek, warm to his touch when she picked him up. The opulent smell of the perfume she sprayed herself with - dark, exotic spices from far away lands that cost half the world.
Sometimes, although he’d long since convinced himself it was a dream, he remembered her kiss.
He pushed the door open slowly.
His brother was there - facing away from Sirius, standing in front of their mother’s large, ornate dressing table, bent over to pick up one of the many iridescent pieces of silk strewn on the floor.
Sirius blinked, not believing his eyes.
Regulus was half-naked with nothing to cover his modesty save for a small black skirt that Sirius vaguely remembered belonging to their mother but it had never seemed that tight before, nor that short. Regulus must have altered it, tailored it with magic to fit.
There was something about the skirt, the way a swish of Regulus’ hips sent it up and let Sirius catch a good glimpse of his arse, pert and untouched, that made him instantly hard.
“Shouldn’t be playing with mother’s things, Regulus.” He chided.
The boy spun round, dropping the piece of pink silk in his hands, staring at Sirius in horror. His face was painted - lips red and full, opening to let out his shocked gasp, eyes lined with kohl - widened with fright, cheeks flushed with shame. If it wasn’t for his flat, boyish chest he would have made a beautiful girl.
“Sirius!” he squeaked fearfully, trying to cover himself - blushing bright red.
Sirius advanced upon the boy, grinning wickedly. Regulus backed away, hitting the dressing table, trembling.
“I…I know what this must look like…” he began but Sirius reached out and caught him around the waist, pressed against him and kissed him.
“What? What are you doing?” Regulus gasped, trying to shove him away, struggling in fear. Sirius growled, shoving him round and down onto the dressing table, the mirror reflecting the image back on him.
“Quiet now, Regulus.” He whispered, working the skirt up and stroking his fingers gently over Regulus’ arse, feeling him shiver under the touch.
“Don’t…” Regulus whimpered.
Sirius ignored him, hunting the table for anything that would ease his way. He found a small pot of cream, uncapped it and slicked his fingers. He rubbed them over Regulus’s opening, feeling the boy tense beneath him and then pushed one finger in. Regulus’ gasped, clenching down tightly on the intrusion.
“Wanted this, didn’t you?” Sirius murmured, thrusting his finger deeper - sliding in another two, laughing at the way Regulus gasped and squirmed and bucked against them; his hips rubbing against the cold oak of the dressing table - cock hard despite his protests.
Sirius worked his fingers deeper, enjoying the throaty half-ashamed moans that issued from his brother. Regulus gasped, eyes wide, rocking erratically back on to them.
“No more, Sirius. Please!”
Sirius reached one arm around, stroking Regulus’ cherry red lips and then shoved two fingers into his mouth and Regulus’ bit down instinctively, whimpering around them. Sirius cried out, pulling away from Regulus, rubbing his hand and then pulled up his robe, reaching back for the cream, spreading it over his cock and then guided himself into Regulus. The boy hissed, gritting his teeth and dug his fingers into the table.
“Sirius.” He moaned, looking back over his shoulder, mouth open as he rolled his hips back to take his brother deeper. Sirius leant forward, pressing against him, the material of the skit, pushed up around Regulus’s waist rubbing against him, and kissed him softly.
Regulus sighed in pleasure, tuning back and gazing at himself in the mirror from dark, lidded eyes - the picture of dishevelment - his brother’s cock in his arse. he groaned eyes wide and came hard over the table, clenching tightly around Sirius. Sirius for his part moaned, thrusting faster, harder as Regulus thrashed, knocking pots and jars and bottles onto the floor.
The perfume bottle smashed, soaking the carpet and opulent spice filled the air, enveloping and coating the rutting, animalistic boys, and with one spiced kiss Sirius came.