Author: Mosh Title: The Calling Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
"I got your owl. What's so important that you wanted me to come all the way here while mother and father are away?" Sirius hovered in the doorway of his old room - the room he had once shared with his brother when they had been very young. He waited for the other boy to turn. But he didn't. Sirius sauntered in a little way, looking around at the familiar furniture and the empty bed adjacent to Regulus's that he had once occupied. That had been before he'd been allowed his own bedroom, the day he'd turned eleven years old. He had Regulus to thank for that. It was he who had insisted that Sirius take the larger bedroom on the east facing side of the house, and, as most favourites do, Regulus had got his own way. It had also been the last kind thing he'd done for Sirius, shortly before the elder had gone off to Hogwarts and been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin. It had sealed his fate as outcast at the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, that was for sure. That name was quite renowned at school, but Sirius silently cursed it. He never told James, Remus or Peter that, not because he didn't think they'd understand - James had a fair idea of what Sirius's family were like - but because of the shame he felt for even bearing the title. He remembered an old saying suddenly - a silly saying that he'd heard thrown around many times before. You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family. Wasn't that the truth. He stared out of the window briefly, hating even being back here. Such a long time had passed, and he'd had the chance to almost disassociate himself from his old life, before he'd left home and eventually got himself a small house for himself on his Uncle Alphard's money. But the smell of Grimmauld Place, the almost thick, heavy air within it, brought back all manner of sour feelings in Sirius, but he tried not to think about it. He approached the figure that was stooped over the bed, apparently fiddling with something. "What was so urgent?" Sirius contemplated not bothering, but eventually added, "Are you all right?" He moved closer and frowned when he spotted an open suitcase lying on the bed. Regulus was poised over it, his hair now quite long and falling forwards, obscuring his face. He didn't look up, only continued to fold a shirt of his, before placing it in the case along with other items of clothing and a few trinkets. "Regulus? What the fuck?" "I'm leaving." "Leaving?" "Good to see you still have your hearing, brother." Regulus pressed his hands down on the pile of clothes in the suitcase, as if trying to make room for more. Sirius wetted his lips, wondering where- "Oh, I see," he said quietly, realising. He shook his head slowly. "So, you're still planning to run off and join Voldemort then, are you? Idiot. Honestly, you're so soft, believing everything mother and father tell you about him and his cause." He sighed. "You'll only end up getting yourself caught and put in prison. Or killed-" Regulus' body stiffened. When he spoke his voice was low and he seemed to be forcing a steady tone. "I asked you here to give you the chance to re-think your position. One last chance, if you will." He turned to Sirius, his face masked, blank. "If you had any sense you'd cast aside those imbeciles you call friends and come with me." Raising his chin slightly, arrogantly, Regulus surveyed his brother, contempt slowly spreading across his face. "Then again, you probably wouldn't last a night." Sirius shot him a warning look. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that. The three of them are worth all of yours put together." He folded his arms across his chest and glared. Regulus took a couple of measured steps forward, until Sirius found himself eye-to-eye with his younger sibling, surprised at how much Regulus had filled out and caught him up in height. Now Sirius was no longer a resident at Grimmauld Place, and since they avoided each other at school, they hardly ever came into close contact. Sirius didn't care that much, although, he blamed his parents for the rift, since he was sure that under different circumstances he and Regulus probably would have got on quite well. Sirius raised an eyebrow impatiently, refusing to be intimidated. But Regulus didn't move, only remained a short distance away, arms at his sides, face shrouded by thick black hair, features shadowed. Sirius thought he looked tired, or perhaps nervous. Well, if he really was going where Sirius thought he was going, he had every reason to be. "For fuck's sake Reg, what do you want? Do you think I'm going to suddenly realise this insane blood-cleansing mania that's taken hold of this poor excuse for a family is a brilliant idea? You want me to follow you into Voldemorts service? Do you have any idea how stupid you are? How stupid the lot of you are-" Regulus snapped his hand out, striking Sirius across the face hard and knocking him back a little way. Sirius felt the burn of his brother's hand dancing across his cheek, stinging. He turned back, anger boiling and rising quickly. "Oh, so you want a send-off fight, do you?" He started forwards, but Regulus dodged to the right and buried his fist into Sirius's stomach, bending him double with a choked grunt. Regulus leant down and pressed his face into Sirius's hair. "You cunt. You know I'm stronger than you are, and here was I about to offer you the chance to re-think your Gryffindor sentimentalities. Your chance to do this family proud and rid yourself of the half-blood filth you hang around with - probably fuck too, you dirty bastard. But now I don't think I'll bother. Your mind's tainted. There's no hope for you." The image of Remus flashed through Sirius's mind. Smiling Remus. Quiet, contemplative Remus. He was probably the furthest from filth that was humanly possible. Sirius twisted around, pushing Regulus away, then dived on him, sending both of them to the floor in a brutal tangle of fists and barred teeth. It never took very long for things to end up this way, especially when they were left alone in a room together. Regulus hated Sirius for his unprejudiced opinions on blood-lines, not to mention the company he kept at school. And Sirius hated Regulus for completely the opposite reason - there had been no doubt about Regulus's intentions after the night the younger had stumbled into the house with a bloody and bruised face, clutching his left arm tightly to his body. He had lashed out at Sirius for trying to help him in a moment of genuine concern. Well, Sirius would never make that mistake again. Not now it was all too clear about his own flesh and blood's philosophy - Voldemort's philosophy. Although there was a deep, nagging ache at the bottom of his stomach, and he couldn't deny that it was worry. He wondered whether Regulus truly knew what he was getting himself into, yet felt somewhat supercilious at the fact that he would never stroll blindly into a dark, psychotic wizard's service like that. A knee suddenly struck Sirius in the groin. He yelled, reflexively trying to curl up, giving Regulus the advantage. He rolled Sirius over and spread himself out across his body, emitting a low, triumphant laugh. Sirius couldn't open his eyes, but he could feel tears running down the sides of his face towards his ears. And the pain, oh the fucking pain. "Reg! You f-fucker!" He felt Regulus squirm on top of him, pushing his legs against Sirius's to pin them to the floor. He then took hold of Sirius's wrists, pulling his hands away from where they were desperately trying to get in between their bodies to nurse his aching groin. Sirius opened his eyes, panting furiously. "I could never follow you, Death Eater whore." Even before he'd said it, Sirius knew he'd pay dearly for that one. The Death Eater movement had never been openly discussed at home, though he knew his parents and brother kept a close eye on the rumours and any reported Death Eater activity. He still hadn't forgotten the tone of his mother's voice when she had read aloud from a Daily Prophet article over breakfast one morning, waving her hand dismissively: "Oh, another Mudblood murder. A family this time, and look, when the Aurors arrived they found the Dark Mark scorched into the grass on their front lawn." Sirius had risen from the table and left the kitchen after seeing a hooded light flash in his brother's eyes from across the table. It had been something akin to triumph. Regulus smacked Sirius's hands down on the floorboards, holding him fast. "Whore, you say?" He ducked his head, crushing his mouth against Sirius's hard, then broke away, dragging his tongue all the way up over Sirius's cheek leaving a cooling trail of moisture on is skin. Sirius tried to fight him off, cursing as loud as he could to deter him. The pain in his groin had dulled to a violent throb, but that wasn't being helped by the weight of his brother's body pressing down against him. Regulus went in for another kiss, but Sirius turned his head to the side. "Accio wand! Accio fucking wand!" He knew bloody well it wouldn't work, but he was damned if he wasn't going to try anyway. "Regulus, fuck off! Get off!" Regulus laughed again and pressed his hips harder against Sirius. "Ah-no! I'll yell." But Sirius knew that their mother wasn't home - nobody was there to break them up. He struggled again, and was rewarded with a painful nip on the neck, followed by the horrifying sensation of his brother's cock digging into his crotch through their clothes. "Get off of me you shit!" But the body above seemed to be growing heavier as Sirius's strength dwindled - he couldn't even free his hands to fight back. Regulus returned his attentions to trying to capture Sirius's mouth. "Numph," was the only thing that the elder could manage, finding himself pinned from head to foot, hot lips pushing angrily down on to his own. Regulus tasted bitter. The tight grip around Sirius's wrists was scorching his skin, but all he could do was curl and uncurl his fingers in a vain attempt to do something to stop this. Regulus finally released Sirius's mouth and pulled one of his hands up into the air, but before Sirius could bend his elbow to twist free from the restraint, it was smacked down against the floorboards. A bolt of pain streaked up his arm, knuckles cracking on the impact. "Nooo!" he howled. His hand was released, but Sirius couldn't move it - he was sure something had broken. He yelled again, feeling Regulus's fast breaths on his face, then a rustling. "Do you want a taste of what you could have had? What you should have had?" The younger pressed his forearm down across Sirius's mouth, covering it with the ominous black tattoo. "We could have stuck together! As brothers! Does that mean nothing to you?" "Mmph!" The Dark Mark tasted metallic, coppery - like blood. Sirius gagged, years worth of guilt for not fitting in at home burning through him. That unrelenting feeling of comfort for fitting in at school - where he wanted to be - seemed a million miles away from where he was now - trapped beneath his brother's heavy body, being smothered by the signature of all he hated in the world. He didn't want this. Not ever. "Who's the whore now, huh?" Regulus rotated his hips, grinding his erection down against Sirius's groin. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" He continued rubbing himself against Sirius's body, forcing himself to climax. When he finally shuddered with a low moan, coming in his trousers from the friction, Sirius seized the opportunity, pushing himself up by his legs and elbows. He managed to flip the pressing weight of Regulus onto the floor beside him, finally free to move. Regulus's eyes widened as Sirius crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. One broken hand was clutched against Sirius's chest, but the other, balled up into a fist, came hurtling down towards Regulus's face with white-fury. A sickening crunch sounded, and Regulus screamed. Sirius drew his fist back again and then stilled it, poised above his brother's face, ready for another blow. Regulus gazed up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, blood trickling out of both nostrils and a little at the corner of his mouth. "Sirius?" he choked. Something flashed in those dark grey eyes for the briefest of moments. Recognition? Remorse? Sirius wasn't sure, but it was gone so suddenly that he was left wondering whether he'd imagined it. Sirius barked out a sob, hating this, his face dripping with sweat and frustrated tears. The pain that he knew was there pulsing in his hand and groin seemed oddly disconnected from his senses at that moment. He sucked in a breath, still tasting his brother's mark against his lips, on his tongue. "I'm not the one who's disgraced this family," he said, his own voice sounding distant and broken in his ears. He clambered to his feet. "Sirius?" Sirius rushed out of the room, heading towards the bathroom to throw up or pass out, he didn't know yet. But when he finally surfaced a half an hour later, Regulus had gone. As had his suitcase. ~Fin~ |
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