Author: Mosh Title: Rival Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
The moment Regulus Black fell to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, Severus knew he'd be a favourite. Such grace, such poise. The way his silk-black hair fell water-like over his narrow, set shoulders made it look like he was submerged in deep shadows. It set off the alabaster of his skin and the rose pink of his mouth; the pout that was unintentional, yet no less alluring. As much as Severus hated to admit it, the Black family was exceptionally beautiful. To his astonishment, the Dark Lord had leaned forward and brushed his fingers through Regulus's hair, tilting his face up. It was a very uncharacteristic gesture; the Dark Lord didn't usually put on public shows of affection like that, especially not at meetings or initiations. And especially not with fledglings. Beneath his black hood, Severus felt smothered. Regulus managed to meet Severus's eyes - a show of strength, as not many were able to focus straight after undergoing Legilimency with Lord Voldemort - though he was obviously trying to hide his pain. They had never been friends, but they had a mutual dislike for Sirius so there was common ground, at least. Still, Severus tasted something bitter in his mouth as he watched the pretty boy closely, felt something unpleasant curling in his gut. "Black." "All right, Snape." Regulus's voice wavered and he nodded once in greeting, then winced and bit his lip. The headaches were normal; they would pass, but Severus wasn't about to tell him that. He could see that one of the sleeves of Regulus's black robes was hanging differently from the other. The right one. It stuck to his skin in places, and looked heavier than the other side. It was wet. Severus knew exactly what it was wet with. "Everything's in order?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his tone neutral. Regulus nodded again. He was paler than usual and swayed for a moment on his feet. His grey eyes were slightly dazed, except when he moved and they burned clear with discomfort. "I'd best be off now," Regulus said quietly, his voice a hoarse, sore sound. "Mother and Father will want to know..." He swallowed thickly and looked away, faint spots of colour rising in his cheeks. Even the watermarks of his pain were attractive. Severus stepped aside for him, stiffly. He didn't miss the way Regulus limped out into the hall, walking very slowly and carefully. Four hours, Severus thought bitterly. His initiation had only taken one and a half. He had never felt so inadequate, so ugly as he did right then. "Enter," came the voice, deep and silky. "My Lord." Severus bowed at the threshold, and kept his head lowered. "Come forward, Severus," said Voldemort, patting the arm of his chair as if inviting a child to climb up for stories. Severus edged into the room, unsure of what to say or do. It had been stupid knocking - he should have just left, gone back to Spinner's End to work on his Dark Arts studies and put Regulus Black out of his mind. "Look at me." Severus obediently looked up, his gaze coming to rest in the soothing light of Voldemort's eyes, the prismatic colours overwhelming him. He moved closer, but wasn't aware of his steps anymore. Before he knew it he was standing directly in front of Voldemort, who pulled him down onto his lap and rested one hand on the base of Severus's spine. Severus did not break eye contact; he had completely forgotten why he was there in the first place... something had been bothering him, though he couldn't remember what it was. In fact, it seemed inconsequential compared to the calming waves, the pleasant tingle beneath his scalp. He was a child again, innocent and learning the ways of the world, hungry for knowledge. Everything would be all right. "There's no need to be jealous of the new boy," Voldemort said softly, stroking slow, rhythmic circles over Severus's back. The touch was timeless and Severus found himself arching into it. When Voldemort finally blinked Severus came back to himself, coughed quietly, looked down at his lap, mortally embarrassed. He should've known he'd be found out. He wondered if he'd be punished for not practicing his Occlumency as often as he was supposed to, to become the perfect solider and, if necessary, the perfect spy for his Lord. But instead of chiding him, Voldemort drew Severus down for a kiss, light and promising. Severus's whole body jumped as a cool hand snaked up under his robes, running up over the freckled curve of his knee, then further, up the inside of his thigh, the fingers long and delicate but thrumming with magic, with power. Severus moaned, his cock rising to hardness. Voldemort drew out the kiss until Severus was breathless, and only then did he break away to whisper, "You're to treat him like your brother, Severus. There's no need to fret, dear child. I love you. I expect you to come to love him very soon." Severus wanted more kisses but dared not push. He nodded. "Yes, my Lord." He didn't think he would ever be able to love a Black, but he would have to try. "Go now." Severus rose, and as he did the haziness fell away like a veil slipping from his face. He blinked, felt infinitely better about things, then turned and offered one last, deep bow before taking his leave. "And don't think I will tolerate you skimping on your Occlumency practice, Severus," Voldemort called after him. "You never know when it'll come in handy." ~Fin~ |
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