Author's Notes: Written for Weekly Quick Fic #02 for writerverse on LiveJournal, with the prompt "Still in love", and dedicated to my darling Couture Girl, for her enthusiasm for all things Lestrangecestuous.
)O(
Rabastan used to believe that his brother would never love him the way he loved his brother. He used to think that he would spend the rest of his life alone and pining after someone who would never return his feelings. He believed wholeheartedly that the fates were aligned against him and he would never get to experience the touch he desired most – his brother's touch, his brother's hands on him, arms around him, lips against him.
Rabastan was wrong.
When Rodolphus slipped into his bed at night, there was a thrill that ran through Rabastan's body and a momentary belief that this couldn't be real; that this was too good to be real. It left him trembling with excitement, but also shaking with fear that it was too good to be true and sooner or later he would wake up and find that it had been a dream.
It took Rodolphus's touch, his kiss – harsh and burning hot – to convince Rabastan that it wasn't a dream.
Rodolphus kissed him like Andromeda never could: with force, with purpose. No fluttery little brushes of mouth against mouth – no, Rodolphus slammed Rabastan down into the bed so hard that he feared he would break, and he kissed him until his mouth ached, and then his hands would begin to roam.
Even after all the time that they had spent together, Rabastan still felt self-conscious when his brother dragged his fingers over his stomach, where every rib was prominent. He still wondered, when Rodolphus's hands rested on his bone-thin legs and began to push them apart, what could possibly be attractive enough to him that Rodolphus would want to touch him.
But then Rodolphus slid down between his legs, his heated kisses travelling away from Rabastan's mouth and down his chest and stomach, and Rabastan ceased to care, only to be grateful.
Rodolphus eased Rabastan's trousers off with care that always came as a surprise – were Rabastan the stronger one, he would have torn his brother's clothes off with abandon, anything to speed the process. But Rodolphus was delicate, almost reverent, when it came to removing his brother's clothes.
He took Rabastan's cock in his hand, and Rabastan let out a soft moan – take care to be quiet, or Mother and Father might hear. His thumb drew tiny circles along the underside; miniscule, teasing movements that made Rabastan ache with want.
"Now, Rodolphus!"
Rodolphus glanced up at him and smiled, running his tongue slowly around his lips.
"I love what I can do to you, you know, Rab," he murmured. He cupped Rabastan's balls gently in one hand and used the other to stroke steadily along his length. "I love the way you moan for me…"
Rabastan moaned immediately in response, and Rodolphus rewarded him by leaning down and letting the tip of his tongue flick against Rabastan's foreskin.
"More," Rabastan begged, but he knew better than to believe he could rush his brother. Rodolphus was careful. Rodolphus was steady. Rodolphus took his time when he wanted to.
His tongue withdrew – eliciting a gasp of protest from Rabastan – but then he leaned in closer and Rabastan threw his head back and arched with delight when he felt his brother's lips close around his cock.
Rodolphus took him deep into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip of his erection, then dragging along the underside. He sucked in slowly, and Rabastan trembled at the sensation.
"More, Rodolphus!"
Rodolphus took Rabastan's hand and placed it on the back of his head, and Rabastan felt a little thrill of power. He was controlling what Rodolphus was doing now – that was more power than he was ever given in his day-to-day life. He pushed down gently and Rodolphus's teeth scraped slightly across his skin – enough to make him jump, enough to hurt, but not enough to make him want to stop.
"Harder."
Rodolphus gagged when Rabastan forced his head down on his cock, but Rabastan was past the point of caring. He wanted release, wanted to feel the frustration that built up whenever he saw his brother and escalated a thousand fold when they were in bed together break. He closed his eyes and gripped Rodolphus's hair to hold him in place and bucked up – once, twice, thrice, again, again – until he felt his brother's lips brush against the base of his cock and heard a whimper from Rodolphus.
Making his brother weaker than him – making him submit – was the ultimate pleasure for Rabastan.
His body jolted and he felt his seed spurting into Rodolphus's mouth. Rodolphus swallowed around his cock – oh, what a feeling that was – and when he lifted his head, a drop of thick, pale liquid spilled over his lip.
Rabastan leaned forward, breathless, and licked it off.
"You taste lovely," Rodolphus whispered and Rabastan sank back onto the pillows and let his brother collapse into his arms before he whispered back, "I know."
Then he took Rodolphus in his hand, felt him aching and throbbing, sensed his urgency when he thrust against his touch. He stroked him slowly and steadily and Rodolphus buried his face in Rabastan's shoulder and moaned. Unlike Rabastan, who struggled to keep his voice quiet, Rodolphus groaned and panted like an animal and only muffled the sounds by biting a pillow, or biting Rabastan.
"Fuck, Rab, you know me so well…" he mumbled when Rabastan dragged one fingernail lightly along the underside of his cock, and Rabastan smiled. He did know his brother well – better than anyone else, and better than anyone knew him.
Rodolphus swore quietly when he came into his brother's hand, and Rabastan lifted it and licked his fingers slowly, sensually, putting on a show for his brother. He could see Rodolphus's eyes hazing over with fresh desire.
"So wrong," Rodolphus murmured when Rabastan had finished cleaning his hand. He pulled his brother close and rubbed his back slowly. "This is so wrong."
"But we're not going to stop, are we?" Rabastan whispered, and Rodolphus shook his head.
"No."
)O(
Fin