Everything was dark.
Someone had drawn the curtains that covered Rabastan's bedroom windows and he could see only the faintest crack of sunlight beneath the heavy drapes. For that, he was grateful – the sun would have given him a terrible headache.
Rabastan's last memory had been of searing heat inside him, burning up his body from the core before he collapsed. And now he was pleasantly cool, lying wrapped in a thin, soft sheet that brushed comfortingly against his bare skin when he moved.
Someone had taken the time to undress him, then.
He lifted his hand to touch his brow and his arm felt heavy. His skin was clammy and cold, and his hand trembled violently.
What happened?
Rabastan had been out on the moors with Andromeda, he remembered that. He had been tired, climbing about after her, but it had all been all right, until she had said something, and he had run away, and then he must have fainted…
What had she said?
He couldn't remember – his mind was a blurry mess.
"You've been out for hours, Rab."
Rabastan sat up quickly. His head spun and he sank back down onto the pillows with a soft groan.
"Rodolphus?"
"Yes…" Rabastan felt his brother's warm, familiar hand close around his, and the bed shifted slightly as Rodolphus sat down. Rabastan's vision had begun to clear, and he could see his brother's silhouette now.
"What happened?" he asked in a small, tremulous voice. "I think I was outside with Andromeda… and…"
"I saw you out the window," Rodolphus told him. "You came running down the hill and threw yourself over the wall and then–" It might have been Rabastan's imagination, but he thought he heard his brother's voice tremble with emotion. "You could have given yourself a heart attack for God's sake, Rab! What came over you?"
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't apologize. Just tell me what happened."
Rabastan's throat tightened. I will not cry! he ordered himself, but he was finding it very difficult to stop himself from sounding hysterical as he tried to explain himself.
"I got angry at Andromeda," he said, the pitch of his voice rising with every word. "I didn't mean to, but she- she said something- I can't remember…" I don't want to remember, "and I just wanted to get away from her… and I ran away, and when I got over the wall, I just…" He trailed off helplessly.
"You fainted," Rodolphus supplied. "I saw that much."
"Weren't you busy with Bellatrix?" Rabastan asked, not bothering to stop himself from sounding bitter.
"Busy with– We were just talking, Rab!" Rodolphus sounded taken aback. "What did you think we were doing?"
Rabastan didn't say anything.
Oh, I'm sure you were just talking.
He turned over, frowning and avoiding looking at his brother. He heard Rodolphus sigh and then stiffened as his brother laid his hand upon his leg.
"Rabastan," Rodolphus said seriously, "you didn't think that we were… you know… doing anything, did you?"
"Yes." Rabastan's voice cracked, rising in pitch and giving away how close to tears he was. He bit his tongue, disgusted with himself. "Yes, of course I thought you were doing something. What did you expect me to think?"
"Not that."
There was a pause, in which Rabastan did not dare to speak for fear of tears, then Rodolphus said, "You know that she isn't replacing you, don't you?"
"What?" Rabastan turned over so that he was facing his brother, and his heart pounded. "Why would I think that? You said yourself – you love your brother differently than you love her…"
"Yes," said Rodolphus slowly, "but… but Rabastan, you know…" He fell silent and there was a long moment of silent tension, then shook his head. "Never mind. Rab… Andromeda came back a few minutes after you did, all concerned about what she said to offend you…"
"What did she say?" Rabastan asked weakly. "I… I can't remember…"
"She said…" Rodolphus sounded a bit grim. "Or… she said that she said that you can't expect me to know how you feel. Is that right?"
Rabastan clenched his hands into tight fists beneath the sheets, digging his nails into his palms until he felt the skin break. "Yes… she said that."
"For God's sake, Rabastan, why would you go running off because of that?" Rabastan had never heard his brother sound so confused or impatient. "That's- that's not even an insult, for God's sake! And you know you aren't strong enough to run! You know you'll make yourself sick! And of course I don't know how you feel – if I did, I wouldn't be so bloody confused by you all the time!"
"I'm sorry, Rod…" he whispered
"Don't apologize to me – explain what was going through your head!"
Rabastan swallowed, scratching his nails back and forth across his palms. The pain gave him something to focus on besides his shame at being so very weak. "I… I don't know, Rod…"
"That isn't an answer!" Rodolphus broke off, then sighed, and lowered his voice. "Listen to me, Rab. Andromeda's right – I have no idea what goes on in your mind and I'm not going to work it out until you tell me."
"I don't… like… talking about it," Rabastan said through gritted teeth.
"Well, that's obvious! If you don't want me to understand, then fine." Rodolphus stood up, and even in the dark, Rabastan could tell that his brother was glaring at him. "But don't expect to not tell me, and then expect me to be able to do anything to help you."
Rabastan almost opened his mouth to beg his brother to stay, but he couldn't bring himself to say it, because he knew that if he did, Rodolphus would just keep asking him, and how could he respond? How was he supposed to explain to his brother what he felt – and what had upset him so much – when he didn't even understand it himself? He watched his brother turn away, head towards the door, and finally turn back and look at him again.
"Do you want me to stay?" Rodolphus asked, with a resigned sigh, and Rabastan nodded, grateful that he didn't need to ask for it.
"Fine…"
Rodolphus turned back from the door, and returned to Rabastan's bedside – a relief, until he kicked off his shoes and lay down upon the bed beside his brother. Rabastan felt his heartbeat quicken and his whole body go stiff – he was suddenly very acutely aware of the fact that he was not wearing anything beneath the sheets.
"Rod?"
"You don't mind, do you?" asked Rodolphus. His voice – such an infuriatingly soft, warm murmur – made it all but impossible for Rabastan to speak, much less say Yes, yes I mind, get out of my bed.
He lay stiffly on his back, staring at his brother, mentally begging him not to get any closer.
Of course, he did.
Rodolphus shifted in the bed, and before Rabastan could protest (not that he was sure that he wanted to…), Rodolphus's arms were around him.
"Rod?" he whispered, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.
"Is something wrong?" Rodolphus murmured in his ear.
Yes. Yes, something is very wrong. You aren't supposed to touch me this way – you're supposed to touch Bellatrix this way, maybe, but not me…
"No," he squeaked.
And I'm certainly not supposed to feel this way about you touching me…
Rabastan was old enough – experienced enough – to recognize that creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach, and the even more worrying tingle slightly lower down, and he thanked God for the sheets protecting his body from Rodolphus's. His heart was pounding quickly, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Rodolphus…" he whispered, using his brother's full name for once. "Rodolphus, I'm…"
"Mmm?" murmured Rodolphus. He sounded tired.
Rabastan couldn't speak. He felt dizzy, and so painfully confused, and Rodolphus's arms felt so good around him, and…
Think about something else, for God's sake, Rab!
He was trying so hard not to melt back into his brother's arms, to stay stiff and not to show how very much he was enjoying Rodolphus's embrace, but it was painfully difficult, and there was a familiar, disconcertingly pleasant tingling in the pit of his stomach…
Rabastan moved very slowly, careful not to disturb his brother, who, by the sound of the heavy, steady breathing in Rabastan's ear, had already drifted to sleep.
It's nothing to do with him…
Rabastan let out a soft sigh, managing to get his hand between his legs without moving enough to wake Rodolphus. Even a slight touch came as a relief to him, and his whole body shivered very slightly as he wrapped his fingers around his cock.
Nothing to do with Rodolphus…
Moving very slowly, very carefully, trying hard not to dislodge his brother, Rabastan stroked himself with a shaking hand. He fought to keep his breath steady, fought to keep himself from letting out even the tiniest of moans that might awaken Rodolphus. He shut his eyes, trying to conjure images that would speed up the process so that he would finish and be able to go to sleep as soon as possible.
He pictured Andromeda – pretty Andromeda, with her sensual, curvy body, lying upon his bed with her legs spread open invitingly. Fantasizing about the woman who would eventually be his wife – that was good, that was right, that…
That did nothing for him. If anything, he softened slightly in his hand.
Bellatrix replaced her sister in his mind, half-dressed, skirts up around her hips and blouse unbuttoned enough to show off her breasts, dark hair dishevelled, a wicked smile upon her lips. Any man would kill to have her, and Rabastan stroked himself harder. Perhaps it was not so good to fantasize about one's soon-to-be wife's sister, but it was at least reasonable…
He chewed on the insides of his lips to keep moans back, all but yanking on himself, no longer much caring if he woke Rodolphus–
Rodolphus.
Rodolphus, on the bed where Andromeda and Bellatrix had been. Rodolphus, naked, chest heaving, hair all dishevelled and face flushed, with his hand around his cock, and his lips were moving, his whole body arching as he whispered, Oh, Rab…
Seed spurted over Rabastan's hand, and his body jolted.
"Rab…"
He stiffened. Of course, he should have expected that he would wake his brother, but…
God, but he had never been so humiliated. He trembled, wiping his come slowly off his hand, and as he twisted around, terrified of having to look into his brother's eyes, he felt something hard brush against his backside.
It's all right, Rodolphus doesn't know – he can't know – he can't know what you were thinking…
Nevertheless, his face flushed crimson with shame and he looked at his brother only for a second before turning away again.
"Get out of my bed, Rod," he said in a tiny, shaking voice.
Rodolphus did not protest. He unwrapped his arms from around his little brother, pulling himself out of bed, then backing away, towards the door. Rabastan felt as though he was about to be ill.
God, I can't believe…
Rodolphus opened the door, and in the second in which light from the hall flooded the room before Rodolphus darted out and pulled the door shut behind him, Rabastan was quite sure that he could see a bulge in the front of his brother's trousers.
It was only once he was alone that Rabastan allowed what he had just done – what had just happened – to sink in.
Mother and Father would have fits if they knew about this. Tears stung in the backs of Rabastan's eyes – Mother would wail about the gossip that would be spread if anyone ever found out that he, Rabastan, had come over the thought of his brother…
Come over the thought of his brother.
Oh, dear God.
Come over the thought of his brother, and not over his future wife or the most beautiful girl that Rabastan had ever known.
No, over his brother.
If it had been any other man – well, that would have been bad enough. It could have made him unmarriageable, a terrible fate for the child of any proper, Pureblood family. But at least – at least it wouldn't have been quite so wrong…
His brother.
Incest wasn't a foreign concept to Rabastan – he knew perfectly well that it was acceptable to marry anyone as close as a cousin to keep bloodlines pure. But he also knew – from listening in to more conversations than he ever should have – that sex between siblings was dreadfully wrong, because a baby produced between siblings was sickly.
He could recall – just barely – a whispered conversation between his mother and Druella, and Druella saying, in a worried voice that had quite clearly conveyed that she did not for a minute believe what she was saying…
But between two sisters – surely there isn't anything wrong with that, because there can't be a child born…
But it is unhealthy, Maria had said, all scorn and superiority. It is unhealthy and impure. You should know that, Druella.
Unhealthy and impure.
And if it was unhealthy and impure between two sisters, then surely it was just as terrible between two brothers…
"Stop," Rabastan whispered out loud, trying to bite back panicked tears.
This wasn't enough for him to say that he lusted after his brother – or even that he lusted after men. It was just one moment, it meant nothing…
Oh, but it meant so very, very much.
Rabastan had never been so painfully, desperately aroused as he had been when he was thinking of his brother, and that had to mean something…
He didn't like to think of it as being in love – that sounded stupid and childish to him, an oversimplification of what he felt. The very thought of being in love drew to mind girls who simpered over fairy tales, and that bore no resemblance to what Rabastan felt. Fairy tales' version of being in love never talked about the twisting sense of wrongness, never talked about shame…
Never involved the princes falling in love with each other instead of with the princesses…
So Rabastan didn't let himself think that he might be in love with his brother.
He didn't let himself think it, but he could feel that it was true.