Pairing: Severus Snape/Regulus Black
Summary: 1979- Regulus is 18, Snape is 20. Their first time together, Snape's first time.
Word Count: 1040
Warnings: Slash, angst, weird Death Eater sex, references to rape.
Authors Notes:This story was created for the lj community 7spells. Prompt set 4:7 "sleepwalk"
This is a stand alone story but it does refer to events explored in other Severus/Regulus stories I've written (click here to visit my archive).
Thanks to Nzomniac for Beta-reading this story.
It can’t work for us. Regulus Black is to pleasure as I am to pain. He loses himself in it. He lives in it. He comes to life beneath my touch. When he touches me, I die.
Regulus is on top of me, kissing me. He unbuttons my shirt, moves downward. He sucks my ugly bones where they poke out. He kisses the deep hollow at the base of my throat as if it were a gaping mouth. As he teases my nipples to hardness, I tighten my fingers in his soft hair. I want him, more than anything I want to surrender to this. I want us to consume each other.
My pants are around my knees now and Regulus kneels between my legs, takes me into his mouth. Its warm closeness enfolds me, moving up and down, sucking me. I sink my fingernails deep into the palms of my hands. I bite my knuckles trying to keep silent.
His hand kneads the flesh of my buttocks, then moves between the cheeks caressingly. Slowly, carefully, a single finger penetrates me as his mouth continues its work. I can’t fight it any longer. I cover my face and I scream. I jerk away from him and curl myself into a ball and scream and scream. After the first few minutes, there is no sound. He’s had the presence of mind to cast a Silencing Charm. I don’t know how long it goes on.
“Severus, it’s me,” he is saying. “It’s Reggie. You’re in my flat. You’re safe. Can you hear me, Severus?” I nod my head. “I’m holding your hand. Can you feel me holding your hand?”
I focus on him, on his hand, his voice, his face. It draws me back from wherever I had gone. He is so beautiful, leaning over me. His voice is sweet, whispering my name.
I must be hideous… half-naked, sniveling and bleeding (but I’m not bleeding, not this time).
When I am better, when I am calm again, he removes the Silencing Charm so that I can speak. He brings me a glass of wine. I drink it and it seems to help, though I have already noticed that Regulus can always find a reason to break out the alcohol. I also suspect alcohol is among the milder of the substances he imbibes. Sometimes his eyes look like violet petals broken only by the smallest dot of black.
“What happened, Severus?” he asks me softly. “Was I hurting you? Was I going too fast?” So solicitous, he’s a geisha boy. Trained to serve the heir apparent, except, in his case, the heir abdicated. His big brother went the way of the Blood Traitor, so the geisha is the king.
The weight of Regulus’ arm around my shoulders, the warmth of it makes me want to kiss him, start the whole wretched scene up all over again. I should put my clothes back on and leave while I still have some dignity. Instead, I cover my face with my hair and draw my knees tight to my chest.
“Nothing happened,” I tell him. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he says. “You were terrified, you weren’t responding. I don’t think you could hear me. Your eyes were rolled up into the back of your head. You’re not fine.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” I tell him. “Having anyone so close makes it hard for me to breathe and the way you make me feel, it’s too much. I think I’m going to die. I lose control…”
“Have you ever been with anyone before, Severus?” he asks.
“Yes. No. Not like this. Not where I had a choice.”
“Someone forced you…”
“I can’t talk about it, Regulus,” I mutter. “Please don’t ask me to. And don’t ask me who it was.”
“I won’t, Severus,” his hand on mine, those beautiful lips I want on my lips. “I won’t make you do anything you’re not ready to do.”
“You’ll be the first then,” I snarl. I am angry, but not with him… but with myself for my pathetic weakness, for letting myself be so damaged by the things that were done to me. They were bodily assaults, no more. The bruises and tears they left have healed. That should be the end of it.
“It’s not fair,” I whisper like a stupid, stupid little child who still thinks things ought to be fair. “It’s not fair that they ruined it for us.”
He holds me close, stroking my hair.
“Nothing has been ruined,” he whispers. “Nothing has to be ruined. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Severus, I promise.”
“But I want to, more than anything. I should be able to do this. I need to master these old memories. I need to take control of myself.”
“You shouldn’t push yourself.”
“I have to,” I insist.
I think he’s going to protest, but instead he says quietly, “Let me help you.”
He brings me my mask, the mask I wear with the Death Eaters.
“You covered your face,” he says. “I think this will make it easier for you.”
He has incredible instincts, my geisha king. I put on the mask and I am outside myself. I watch the scene unfold; my body is separate from me. He touches me, but it is not me he is touching and this time I can bear his hands, his mouth, the closeness of his body. He pulls me to him, guides me into him, his legs around my shoulders. I am far enough away from the delirium of passion that it does not overwhelm me, even at the climax.
It wasn’t quite what I had hoped for. I would have liked to be less of a sleepwalker in my own life. I would have liked to feel more, but to feel more deeply would mean feeling a pain I cannot handle.
As we lie entwined, he takes the mask from my face, kissing me. I will discard the mask before long. I will learn to make a mask of my own face.
I hold Regulus and can’t help but wonder if he has helped me or brought me further into darkness.