By: DursleyFamily
The dim light filtering through the curtains was the only witness to the aftermath of their intense encounter. It cast a soft, golden glow over the room, highlighting the disarray they had left in their wake. This room thankfully had no pictures on the wall, nothing to witness their moment.
Regulus lay sprawled on the bed, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, trying to come to terms with the storm that had just swept through him. Sirius was next to him, his head resting on the pillow, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts tangled up in the same chaos that had just erupted between them.
For a few minutes, neither of them moved. The silence was thick and uncomfortable, filled with the echoes of their recent passion and the heavy weight of unspoken words. It was as if they were both waiting for the other to break the silence, to address the enormity of what had just happened.
Regulus turned his head slowly, stealing a glance at Sirius. The sight of his older brother, his hair tousled and his face flushed, made him wince inwardly. The memory of their frantic coupling was still fresh, but it now felt like a distant dream, one that left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. It had been years since they had shared such an intimate space, and not since they were children had they been so close, so openly raw with one another.
The younger man rubbed a hand over his face, trying to erase the traces of the intense emotions he had just experienced. The closeness, the rawness of their bodies pressed together, was disorienting. He had never had intimacy that could feel so simultaneously exhilarating and uncomfortable as he had with his brother.
Sirius finally turned his head, his eyes meeting Regulus' with a mixture of uncertainty and regret. "That was…" he started, his voice trailing off. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. "I didn't think..."
Regulus cut him off, his voice hoarse and rough. "Neither did I. It was... intense. More than I expected."
The admission hung in the air between them, awkward and heavy. Regulus rubbed a hand over his shoulder, his fingers brushing against the remnants of their earlier fervor. "We haven't... done anything like that since we were kids," he said finally, his tone almost wistful. "Back when we used to play at pretending... things were different."
Sirius sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of his own conflicted emotions. "Yeah. It feels like we just crossed a line we can't uncross." He looked down at his hands, as if they held the answers he was searching for. "I didn't want it to be like this."
Regulus nodded, his expression a mix of confusion and resignation. "I know. Me neither. It was just... everything got out of control. I didn't expect it to be so..."
He struggled to find the right word, his mind racing to process what had happened. He was never the one for speeches like his brother. His brother always knew the wrong to say and when in just the right way. Regulus, on the other hand, found himself often stumbling through his words.
Sirius turned on his side, facing his brother fully, his eyes searching his face for some sign of understanding, of shared feelings. "I'm sorry. For everything. For pushing you... for..."
Regulus held up a hand, his own eyes reflecting the same tumultuous emotions Sirius was grappling with. He couldn't bear to have his older brother apologize to him. It hurt too much in his heart. That part of him that still wanted the reckless man to be something more than reckless. The part that wanted him as his brother again. The part that wanted him to be the boy who held him in his arms after their father had finished a round of cruciatus curses on them. "You don't have to apologize. We both knew this was a possibility. It was bound to happen again eventually, given everything we've been through."
The silence between them grew more profound. It made a knot form in Regulus's throat he couldn't swallow around. "What do we do now?" he asked quietly, the question hanging in the air, unspoken but felt deeply by both of them.
Sirius shrugged, a gesture that seemed to convey his own uncertainty. "I don't know. I guess we just... figure it out."
The admission hung in the air between them, awkward and heavy. Regulus took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he sat up, pulling the tangled sheets around him. He couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness, a sharp contrast to the raw intensity that had just enveloped them.
Sirius shifted next to him, running a hand through his tousled hair, trying to collect his thoughts. The golden light from the curtains made the room feel oddly serene, but it only highlighted the stark contrast between their current state and the chaotic passion they had just shared.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Sirius finally said, his voice breaking the silence. "I mean, we were just..."
"Yeah," Regulus interrupted, his tone slightly defensive, though he didn't really know why. "It was like... I don't know, a dream. One minute we were fighting, and the next—"
"—and the next we were... here," Sirius finished, his gaze dropping to the sheets, as if trying to find some meaning in the disarray.
Regulus sighed, feeling the tension in the air. He reached for a discarded pillow, clutching it against his chest for a moment before tossing it aside. "We were always better at this part than really talking," he said, his voice tinged with a wry smile.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, the smirk returning to his lips as he leaned closer. "Yeah, I guess we were. But now that we've got that out of the way," Sirius said, his voice sterner now. A change came over him in an instant from brotherly fondness to Order of the Phoenix rogue. "I still need to know what those idiots are doing. You know, for the Order. The information I came for."
Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Right now? Seriously?"
Sirius shrugged, his eyes gleaming with mischief even when his face held nothing but seriousness. "Well, unless you'd rather keep me busy with something else. I mean, if you don't feel like talking, I could always come up with a few other ways to... occupy my time."
His tone was playful, but there was an underlying edge of seriousness.
Regulus raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "You're insufferable, you know that? You can't just barge in here, have your way with me, and then expect me to drop everything for you."
Sirius leaned in closer, his expression becoming more earnest. "I'm not asking for much. Just some answers. You know, the stuff that could really help the Order. We both know what's at stake here."
Regulus frowned, pushing back against Sirius' relentless pursuit. He was beginning to feel used in that dirty way that Sirius made him before he had run away from home. It was the same feeling that he hadn't been able to wash off as he heard his mother and father screeching from downstairs. The same feeling when he had last let himself cry over his brother's betrayals.
"You think you can just waltz in here, get me all worked up, and then expect me to spill everything like a good little informant?" He shifted, trying to create some space between them. "Just because you had me panting like a dog two seconds ago doesn't mean I'm going to give you what you want."
Sirius' smirk faltered slightly, his brow furrowing as he met Regulus' defiant gaze. "I'm not trying to manipulate you, Reg. This isn't about what happened between us. It's about the safety of everyone that I care about. You know that."
Regulus shook his head, the hint of a scowl forming on his lips. "Oh, so now it's about who you care for? It's not like you really care about what's really important. About legacy, family, me-"
"About you," Sirius cut in, his voice sharp but desperate. "You think I don't care about you. Like I am not keeping away from the fights that I know you are in."
"Like I need your help. Fenwick took my curse nicely enou-"
The sound of fist meeting soft flesh rang across the room a second before Sirius's body was on top of his younger brother. The shift in Sirius' demeanor was immediate, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and desperation.
"Listen to me, little Death Eater bastard," Sirius said, his voice low and intense, the usual lightness gone. He had known Benjy Fenwick. He had dranken with him on numerous occasions at headquarters. Sirius had known he was dead. Maybe not by his little brother's wand, but he had known that he wasn't coming back after two weeks of being missing. "I'm not here to play games. I'm here because I need you to tell me what you Death Eater scum are planning for my friends. There's no time for this." He leaned in, his face inches from Regulus', his breath warm against his brother's skin. "I need to get out there and protect everyone we both care about. You know how dangerous this is."
Regulus struggled slightly against Sirius' grip, but the forceful hold only seemed to reinforce Sirius' point. His defiant glare softened just a fraction, though the tension between them remained palpable. "I told you before, I'm not just going to hand over information because you had me... distracted."
Sirius' grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Damn it, Regulus! You don't have time for this. If Cousin Bellatrix's spies find out I am here, if they find out what we've done—" He cut himself off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. "We're both at risk. So I suggest instead of you playing these games, you turn over that information because right now it's your life."
The younger Black brother's mouth opened but no words came out. He looked up at his brother, the stark realization hitting him with a force he hadn't anticipated. It felt like he was seeing Sirius for the first time in a long time. "You played me…" he finally said, his voice trembling slightly.
Sirius' expression hardened, but there was an undercurrent of pain in his eyes. "I wasn't going to let any more of my friends die," he said, his tone rough. "You think I wanted to be here like this? I'm doing what I have to, and I need you to do the same."
Regulus' eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "You used me. You came here, got me to lower my guard, and then knew I'd have to give in to your demands for information or you'd call…" He hesitated, the weight of the unspoken threat hanging heavily in the room. The house-elves—an ever-present danger if their secret meeting was discovered.
Sirius' eyes softened for a fleeting moment, a flicker of regret passing through them. "Regulus, I didn't want to force your hand like this. But we're running out of time. If you have any shred of loyalty left, to me or to what we once were, you need to help."
Regulus clenched his jaw, the internal struggle clear on his face. He exhaled sharply, his anger slowly morphing into reluctant resolve. "Fine. But don't think this changes anything between us. I'm giving you this because I have to, not because you've somehow redeemed yourself."
Sirius released his grip, stepping back with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Thank you," he said quietly, though his eyes remained fixed on Regulus, waiting for the information he needed.
Regulus took a deep breath, his expression hardening as he prepared to divulge the crucial details. "They're planning an attack on the Order's safe house," he began, his voice steady but tinged with a reluctant urgency. "The target is within the next two days. You need to get the warning out before it's too late."
Sirius nodded, absorbing the information with a nod of understanding. "I'll make sure the warning gets through. I appreciate this, Regulus."
Regulus watched as Sirius turned to leave, the weight of their confrontation still heavy in the room. "Just get out of here before someone finds you," Regulus said, his voice firm. "And don't make me regret this."
Sirius gave him one last look, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes, before slipping out of the room. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Regulus alone with the remnants of their heated encounter and the unresolved tension that lingered between them.
The room fell silent once more, the dim light casting long shadows across the disarray, and Regulus was left to grapple with the aftermath of their confrontation, the burden of their shared past, and the uncertain future that lay ahead.