Regulus reached for the buttons on Severus's trousers, and to his disturbing lack of surprise, yet another would-be tender moment turned into a farce. The sudden inhalation, Regulus could mistake for excitement for a second, but the tense shoulder suggested something else, as did Severus's horrified expression and the way he touched his knees to his bare chest. This was not the unbridled lust Regulus had hoped for.

Regulus already knew to expect the worst and then some when it came to Severus's stories, and his many unfathomable terrors always came with a secret, whether self-imposed or forced. This time, however, Regulus had a theory about what had caused this, yet he could not help but to feel, and to show, his frustration and his exasperation.

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered. "It's not you!"

"I want you so bad, it's… don't you want to?"

This is so easy for you, with your perfect body and the way it just does you tell it to, Severus thought. The way you fly, the way nothing scares you.

There were pleasures in life that came for free, and Severus could never appreciate them while he had them, caught up, as he was, in things like clothes that were not his mother's hand-me-downs, and broomsticks and cauldrons and school books from this decade. But James Potter had made sure to take those pleasures away too - the safety Hogwarts promised, walking around freely, not worrying about an attack, not owing one's life to a fiend (a more distasteful creditor, Severus could not imagine), Lily.

Some of them barely counted as pleasures, but James had nevertheless made sure to teach Severus a lesson about their value as well - like brushing his teeth. The sensation of foam in his mouth invariably made him gag, each and every morning, each and every night, since the day James had decided to have that particular bit of fun with him, until he had learned to firmly fix his mind on something else while doing it. Another one was nudity, or rather - the choice of who will see. Before Regulus, Severus knew for near fact that his preferred option was "no one", at least until he could get his hands on something to heal his blasted scars... But James Potter had his own ideas. It was only thanks to the fact that it was at the end of their 5th year that people had had enough time to forget about… that. But Severus did not, could not - every shower had been an ordeal. He had only recently started to get over it.

Shit. Regulus asked you something, remember, dunderhead? He looked at Regulus, who was full of anticipation, almost as innocent as it was lustful… how I wish I could never think of Potter again.

"I do, I really do!" Severus swore,and he did. He desperately wanted to be free, and to touch Regulus like he knew he deserved to be touched, and to be touched by him like he suspected he might deserve to be touched, too, and to feel like everybody else did, and he knew Regulus was a treasure, and that no one else he knew even approached his curiosity, his courage and compassion - not when it comes to you, anyway, Snivelly - he wanted him to be the first to see, but it was already too late before they'd ever noticed one another.

Potter probably never thought about it again after, and here you are, still letting it infect everything. Pathetic.

"What is it, then?" Regulus asked him. Severus told himself: He learned legilimency for you. He believed you. He never hurt you on purpose.

"You'll laugh at me," Severus answered, and it sounded so shamefully childish when he'd said it out loud. And yet, was he wrong? They all had, they'd all laughed. They'd witnessed his torment and thought it was funny. Surely, he was not like them, he was not human.

"I have never laughed at you and I know too much to assume whatever you've got to say is going to be amusing," a weary Regulus informed him.

Why would somebody like him want to be near me?

"I can't believe you're still here, Reg," Severus said without thinking. "I want… I want you, it's only… it's… hard."

Regulus smiled despite himself. "I should hope so, you know…" he said.

"Oh, ha ha. You're a real gentleman, you know that?"

"Oh, I am? What else am I?" He teased.

"Thick-headed. Obviously insane. Not that great a flier. Unhealthily attached to your elf. Inbred. An entitled hothead. Have I mentioned that you are thick-headed?"

Regulus smiled from ear to ear. Whatever Severus was feeling, it could not be so bad if he had the presence of mind to mock him.

"Not as thick as you," he retorted. "And even you couldn't make a spell to make a decent flier out of you."

"Were you there, Reg?" Severus asked him, and he looked away before Regulus could answer… a buzzing filled his ears as if he had cast Muffliato on himself somehow, and he felt his temples pounding. He could not remember if Regulus had been there or not. The laughing faces had all become melded in his mind, they merged into a single being with many heads… he was not sure what he wanted the answer to be. If he was there when they'd done this to me, and he laughed, how could I look at him? If he wasn't, then he doesn't know… he doesn't know what I am, he will realize, he will leave.

Regulus sighed.

"No, but I heard what had happened."

Severus made a swallowing sound, though his mouth was dry. He picked at a piece of parchment on the floor. He felt Regulus looking at him, and he wanted to disappear.

"I don't know what I would have done. I didn't know you then. But I generally don't find Sirius amusing, or Potter. I don't know if I'd have stopped them, Severus, but I wouldn't have laughed at you."

Severus said nothing. His head was buried in the crook of his arm.

As Regulus tried to touch him, he actually began to hyperventilate, and even as he lost all control of himself, his mind told him to stop faking, to be a man, that he was only acting this way for attention… and Regulus was scared and confused.

"Do you remember the first time I came here?" He asked Severus.

Severus could not say that he did, nor understand why it was relevant.

"No, why?" He managed to ask.

"I saw you crying, remember? And you flinched. And I told you I'm not my brother and there's no need to flinch away from me."

Severus looked up. It was true, that did happen. Of course, how could he forget? But he had just lost Lily that day, and Regulus was nothing to him then, just another Black...

"I only heard what happened after that. I thought you've been crying because you've failed your tests. But you beat Sirius at every test, I know this for a fact. He was in a fit about it when we had the examiners over at our house. Even after what they did to you."

A pause followed. Severus's body relaxed a little…

"My point is I never found him funny. I find him pathetic. And Potter. I didn't need to know you to know what they are."

There was the crooked closed-mouth smile that Regulus adored. There was that rare look of someone whose agony had been lifted.

They would have to get through this one day. One day… but not today . That day, they only sat in their dungeon, Regulus leaning against the wall and Severus leaning on him, and each read his respective book, and occasionally kissed the other, occasionally even more than that. Both of them remembered - there used to be a time when a bare chest was unthinkable - now it was obvious. It will be okay, Regulus thought. One day, you'll manage it, Severus told himself. If only Reg will wait long enough… but he will. He must.

The hurt had been strong, sometimes engulfing, overpowering, omnipresent. But beneath the hurt, there was something else - finally, something else - not even James Potter could take away Severus Snape's ability to love. No one could. To do that, they'd have to kill him, and he was not falling for any of their tricks again. He was alive, despite Sirius, despite himself, and just because he owed his life to Potter did not mean Potter could dictate whom he'll love and how, forever. He knew, with time, he'll be able to fight against the hurt, to love and be loved. He did not know how, but for the first time he knew for certain that he would.