Rabastan was shaking from something like shock. Rodolphus put his arm firmly around his shoulders and half-led, half-dragged him up the stairs, and Rabastan could practically feel his brother's anger radiating off of him.

"Rod?" he spoke up quietly.

Rodolphus shook his head, not even meeting Rabastan's eyes. He didn't look at him until he had pulled him into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.

Rabastan could only assume that his brother shared this bedroom with Bellatrix, because there was a distinct femininity around it (cosmetics on a dressing table and a hint of perfume in the air). It felt rather good for Rabastan to be let in – like Rodolphus was purposefully violating what was supposed to be a sanctuary for a man and his wife. Like he didn't care enough about Bellatrix to keep their bedroom pure.

Good.

"So," Rodolphus said quietly and Rabastan looked up at him hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"What was it like?"

Rabastan flushed and looked down. "What… being with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, being with the Dark Lord." Rodolphus sank down onto the bed and indicated for Rabastan to join him. "How did it happen? And… what happened?"

Rabastan's tongue felt heavy and slow in his mouth. He couldn't think how to express what had happened – there were no words for how he had felt when he was in the Dark Lord's arms. There were words for what the Dark Lord had done to him – not words that suited the experience exactly, but at least words that expressed the mechanics of what had happened. But Rabastan couldn't make them come to his mouth.

"He… we…" he stammered, face red.

Rodolphus waited, watching him patiently while he searched for some way to express his thoughts.

"He… invited me to his flat," he managed at last. Better to start from the beginning. "We had a drink, and then he… we were talking and he… he put his hand on my leg…" Oh, so difficult to explain. How could Rabastan possibly tell Rodolphus what it was like to feel that kind of touch, and to understand that the intention behind it was exactly what Rabastan wanted it to be…

"And then?" Rodolphus asked quietly, and Rabastan blushed. This would have been difficult enough with anyone, but with Rodolphus, Rabastan had to bite his lips to stop himself from telling his brother to let him demonstrate… leaning forward and kissing Rodolphus as the Dark Lord had kissed him…

"And then he kissed me," Rabastan whispered. "He put his hand… here…" He gestured between his legs, a flush rising on his cheeks as the memories came back more strongly. He felt himself twitch beneath his trousers as he thought about the Dark Lord's hand resting there. "And then he… he undressed…"

Rodolphus was watching with an almost hungry expression on his face. "And then?"

"I- I don't know if I want to tell you," Rabastan said quietly. He shifted on the bed. "It's… private."

But no. The problem wasn't that he felt that what had happened between him and the Dark Lord was too private. He had never had qualms about sharing anything with his brother before. They were so close – Rabastan had taken it for granted that every aspect of their lives was something that they could share. Even what happened between Rodolphus and Maria wasn't completely off-limits – Rabastan would only avoid mentioning it because he could see how it hurt his brother and he never wanted to do that. Rabastan was the one person that Rodolphus could confide in, and vice versa…

But he didn't want to tell Rodolphus about how the Dark Lord had touched him and kissed him and taken him. He didn't want to sit there and explain how it had happened, how it had felt.

Because he didn't think that he could stand it. Because he was sure that if he tried to talk about the experience with Rodolphus, something would slip out – something about how Rabastan felt for his brother – something that he wouldn't be able to take back once it was said…

"Was it like being with Andromeda?" Rodolphus asked tentatively, and Rabastan shook his head wildly.

"No. Not at all. Not even a bit."

He could answer that with certainty, at least. Labouring over Andromeda, knowing that it was hurting her, unable to become aroused by her and only managing to keep going by thinking about his brother – that had been an agonizing experience. He felt a little twinge of anger at his brother for even thinking that it could be anything like being taken by the Dark Lord.

"How was it different?"

"I don't know how to explain, Rodolphus!" Rabastan snapped. His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. "It just was. I mean- it felt all different… because we… I wasn't… I didn't… you know… do the same thing that I did with Andromeda…" His face burned and he even saw Rodolphus blush a little. "But it's not just that it… felt different physically… you know?"

Rodolphus nodded slowly. "I think I do…"

"I felt so much stronger with him," Rabastan said quietly. "When I was with Andromeda, it was all so… so awkward… I couldn't… I felt like such a child with her, Rodolphus," he muttered, humiliated that he was even saying it. "But with the Dark Lord, he was so much better and- I felt- I didn't feel so… useless with him…"

"I understand," Rodolphus said softly.

"Do you? But- but you and Bellatrix…"

"It's awful with Bellatrix, Rab," Rodolphus said bluntly, and Rabastan reeled from that statement. It went against everything he had believed about his brother and Bellatrix – he had thought that, if anything, sex was the saving grace in a relationship that he was sure wasn't at all good in other ways. Rodolphus and Bellatrix were different in too many ways to make a proper couple in any way except sex, surely…

"Why- why is it awful?" he asked at last. He could feel a little twinge of some emotion in his chest – satisfaction? Satisfaction that his brother's relationship with Bellatrix was so clearly not going well?

"I swear that she likes making me feel weak," Rodolphus muttered. He clenched his fists. "The way she talks and acts… I think she gets off on seeing me upset."

"What does she do to you, Rod?" Rabastan asked, lowering his voice to a quiet, sympathetic murmur. He shifted close to his brother and put his hand on his shoulder. "What's happened?"

Rodolphus sighed. "She- she talks about the Dark Lord all the time."

Rabastan bristled. "What does she say about him?"

"All sorts of things – I don't think she really knows him, but- but she reads the Daily Prophet and every time he comes up, she's absolutely ecstatic… won't shut up about it all day…" Rodolphus ran a hand through his hair.

"She has no right!" Rabastan said sharply. "He- he doesn't even know about her! Her father was the reason that he sent for me, and he didn't say anything about her!"

"I know that she doesn't really have anything to do with him, all right?" Rodolphus snapped. "But she talks as if she's- as if she…"

"She'd be mad to fancy him more than you," Rabastan said quietly.

Rodolphus looked at him and arched one eyebrow slowly. "It's a bit funny of you to say that – you're the one who slept with him… surely, if anyone would know why she'd fancy him, it would be you… I mean, he must have a lot of good qualities, mustn't he?"

"Not as many as you," Rabastan said quietly, firmly. He couldn't stop the words from coming out, and despite the protests of part of his mind, he didn't entirely want to stop them from coming out.

"He must – don't you think he's good? You fancy him, don't you?"

"Well… yes…" Rabastan's heart was racing and he felt a little dizzy, maybe even a little sick. "Yes, I fancy him, but…"

Rabastan trailed off and met his brother's eyes, searching them. Rodolphus looked confused, slightly concerned, and so, so incredibly beautiful…

Really, what did Rabastan have to lose?

Rabastan all but threw himself forward, and he saw surprise on Rodolphus's face for a split second before he smashed his lips down against his brother's.

He felt Rodolphus jerk away almost instinctively, but Rabastan clung on, knotting his fingers in Rodolphus's hair and deepening the kiss. He pushed his tongue between Rodolphus's lips and flattened his torso against his brother's, pressing him down onto the bed with more strength than he thought he had. Rodolphus struggled at first, but the longer the kiss went on, the more Rodolphus seemed to hesitate. And when his hands moved to rest on Rabastan's waist and Rabastan felt his lips begin to move, felt him returning the kiss, he could have fainted from sheer happiness.

Rodolphus's body was stronger, harder, more muscular than either the Dark Lord's or Rabastan's own – but Rabastan had already known that. He was familiar with Rodolphus from years of lying curled against him in bed. But that familiarity only increased the pleasure of running his hand down his chest, feeling his body arch up against his, feeling him react in these new and different ways that Rabastan had formerly believed he would never have a chance to experience.

Rodolphus's legs parted slightly and a soft noise of pleasure escaped Rabastan's lips automatically. He moved in between them, pressing the whole length of his body down against Rodolphus's, and a thrill went through him when he felt his brother's arousal press against his thigh.

"Oh… Rod," he whispered between kisses, and Rodolphus responded by uttering a low moan and then pressing his hand to the back of Rabastan's leg, pushing it against himself.

Rabastan rocked quickly against his brother, rubbing his thigh against Rodolphus's erection. He wanted to pull away from the kiss so that he could undo his trousers, take him in his hand and feel him properly, but he didn't dare pause for fear that Rodolphus would lose his nerve. And besides, it felt damned good to be rubbing against him…

A ragged groan tore itself from Rodolphus's throat, and Rabastan couldn't have thought of any more arousing sound. His own trousers felt tight and strained in the crotch, and he pressed himself against his brother's stomach while he ground at him with his leg. Rodolphus's hands were knotted in his hair, his kissing becoming deeper, rougher, more desperate, his teeth catching Rabastan's lips and tongue and quiet groans and gasps escaping him with every motion that Rabastan made.

Then Rodolphus shuddered. Rabastan, pressed so close that he could feel every muscle tighten in his brother's body, could feel a spasm running through him, feel him clench his stomach and thighs and thrust up against Rabastan's leg once more, and he felt the vibrations of his moan against his lips.

And then there was wetness.

Wetness on his thigh, warm, slowly spreading through the thin fabric of his trousers.

Rodolphus let go of Rabastan and fell back on the bed, face flushed and arms spread wide. Rabastan sat up slowly, aching between his legs but unwilling to try to relieve it. Little shudders were running through Rodolphus's body, and Rabastan felt a thrill of satisfaction as he watched the small, damp stain spread across his brother's crotch.

"Rab…" Rodolphus whispered at last. His voice was strained and tense and he looked up at his brother with eyes that betrayed fear. "Oh, Rab, what have we done?"