A/N: And this, fangirls and gentlemen, would be my Valentine's Day fic. Minus fluff, heart-warming romance and all other things associated with this Saint's Day. Well, what did you expect? At least i got February in there... Also, my first shot at drabbles. Title from Tennyson.
Warnings: Slash and incest. And once more we will pretend we can't count and thus are not aware of Reggie's age. Hem.
Because the burning touch of ice hurts almost as much as his brother's sharp kisses.
Dark House, By Which Once More I Stand
i. 1976
February there is frost. Sirius follows Regulus shifting through the cold house, a flitting ghost of dark eyes and low laughter. He stands in the doorway of Regulus' room, a figure born of shadow, and watches the slow curve of his brother's smile gleam white in the dark. Sirius presses heavy against Regulus, pushing him down hard into the mattress, and drags rough kisses spiked with teeth over his brother's mouth. Regulus hisses, twisting his hands in Sirius' hair, and then he yields to the push of their bodies and he laughs again, rough and breathless in the still dark.
ii. 1977
February there is frost, sheets of ice lining the windows of Hogwarts. Sirius corners Regulus in shadowed corridors and breathes hoarse against his throat. Up close Regulus smells of the cold and something dark but his mouth is hot when his lips drag over Sirius' jaw and his long fingers twist fiercely in the heavy fabric of his brother's robes. Sirius thrusts Regulus back against the wall and when they kiss, he deliberately scrapes his knuckles along the rough stone above Regulus' head and the sting of blood hurts almost as much as the burn of his brother's sharp kisses.
iii. 1978
February there is frost, the ice blue-white like the transparent skin of Regulus' wrist, faint blue veins beating beneath. Regulus' arm thrusts from his cuff, awkward and brash, and Sirius slaps a shock of crimson against Regulus' cheek before kissing him violently, biting his lip hard enough to taste the copper sweetness of blood. Sirius pulls Regulus down onto the threadbare carpet of the flat and smiles callously when he swears and cries out; they are harsh and quick and when he comes, Sirius closes his eyes, though all he can see is that smear of black claiming his brother.
iv. 1996
February there is frost. The house is cold and Sirius can feel ice in his tired bones. He searches for his brother in the dark corners of the house and is rewarded with the glimmer of shifting shadows. In the stark white days he hears Regulus' quiet breathing, always just behind him, and at night he can feel the soft brush of his brother's lips on the back of his neck. These faint whispers are his secrets, his trophies, and he holds them tight in his fist like dark things kept in glass bottles and lined upon a dusty shelf.
Peractio