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Written for; Sink That Ship, round 3 - Brave.
Marked
It hurts and he whimpers. The crowds of masked people around him jeer and laugh as he tries and fails to stop the tears falling from his eyes. He refuses to scream though. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of seeing him beg for mercy. One of the men in the crowd won't be laughing and he holds on to that knowledge.
He watches him, his heart pained when he see's the tears falling down the beautiful face. Rabastan knows that this is necessary; they've all been through it, they all carry the mark on their arms. He knows and yet he hates to see the man he loves crying in pain. He hates it, but he cannot do anything about it, and that, he thinks, is the thing he hates.
When it's over, he's made to kiss the hem of his Lord's robe before he can back away. Cradling the still throbbing limb to his chest, Regulus moves into the crowd, taking his place. He already knows that the others who are being marked this evening are jealous of the place he's been given, but he does not care about them. He can feel proud eyes on him, and he knows that his lover is watching on, pleased as Regulus hides his face behind a silver mask.
It's a ridiculous turn on, watching Regulus' gorgeous face disappear behind the gleaming mask, but this has been a long time coming. Rabastan has been waiting for this moment for months, waiting until he could claim his little love for good. That the time if finally here, Rabastan finds himself impatient for the meeting to be over. For the first time since he got his own mark, he is impatient to get out of his Lord's presence.
He struggles to concentrate on the Dark Lord as he speaks. His mind if thoroughly distracted by Rabastan, knowing exactly how much the older man had been waiting for this moment. He's almost trembling with anticipation for the moment they are alone, for the moment that Rabastan can lay full claim on him.
It's perfect, just as he'd known it would be. Regulus feels so good, and Rabastan can hardly contain himself. It's hard to take it slow, but he really doesn't want to damage his most precious prize. It's painstakingly slow, and he aches with need and want, but finally, finally, it's time. It's perfect. Rabastan bites Regulus' shoulder as his orgasm hits. The Dark Lord might have marked Regulus as a Death Eater, but Rabastan would forever take great joy in marking his own ownership, causing pleasure instead of pain.
Regulus is sore and thrilled when Rabastan wraps his arms around him and holds him close.
"You were so brave, Reg. You made me so proud."
The warmth in his chest from those words lulls him to sleep, the pain in his arm forgotten.