A/N: This is very experimental. And very weird. I prompted myself to write a fic based on "blue flower petals in the hair" and... this happened.

As much as I'm all for Blackcest being a terribly forbidden and hidden affair, I always thought it'd be interesting to explore what would happen if the family made the best of it and used Regulus to control Sirius where they failed. So here we are.

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Blue flowers

As soon as they stepped back into the parlour, all the conversations stilled, the eyes turned to them, gauging, judging, gleefully awaiting the latest chapter in the macabre spectacle of a family tearing itself apart.

It was only then that Sirius noticed the blue petals stuck in Regulus' hair. His heart skipped a beat.

That was not to say that Regulus didn't look quite charming, a streak of dirt on his flushed cheek, blue flowers in his tousled hair, his lips swollen and red from stolen kisses.

No one would be able to jump to the wrong conclusions about what they had been up to in the garden.

Aunt Druella's sharp, piercing eyes met Sirius' and narrowed at him.

Sirius felt his face heat up, which was quite funny for he would have expected himself to go pale and break out into cold sweat, which was more along the lines of what he was feeling like.

At his side, Regulus cleared his throat. He broke whatever spell Aunt Druella had had on Sirius. His gaze was drawn to his brother, as it always was.

"We're back," Regulus said in what amounted to a cheerful tone, coming from him. Sombre, but that was him. Sirius found it endearing on their better days. He had learned to gauge all the shades of aristocratic posturing Regulus employed and thus, it wasn't hard at all for Sirius to recognize what Regulus was doing there. He read the way he tilted his chin just a tad, the manner in which his shoulders straightened. It reminded Sirius of the fake bravado behind which he would hide behind when they fought, which was often, but it wasn't the same. It was more real. Pride?

Regulus ran a hand through his hair and blue petals fell, scattered on the black of his robe like obscene incriminating blobs of colour. Then that very same hand of his reached out, his fingers intertwined with Sirius'. Funny, Sirius hadn't even noticed that his hands had been trembling.

Aunt Druella was still glaring. He didn't even dare look at his parents.

Regulus squeezed his hand and dragged him fully into the room, he didn't stop until he had Sirius sitting next to him on the tiny little delicate couch they had sat on before. It had been at a far more respectable distance then, before Sirius had informed his family that he intended to spend the rest of the summer vacation at the Potters', his parents had yelled and he had yelled back until Regulus had dragged him away with the announcement that he would take care of this. "Sirius and I have talked," Regulus announced.

Uncle Alphard was speaking for everyone when he snorted.

Sirius stared at the faded Persian rug beneath his feet. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him.

"I have asked him to stay." Regulus looked at him, one eyebrow expectantly arched.

If he hadn't been bright red already, Sirius would have been so now, for he felt everyone's eyes on him once more. Only on him, this time, which made it both better and worse. He was used to their disapproval for being a blood traitor, after all, it was just the perverse abomination part that was new. "Yes, so," he scratched the back of his head and gave an awkward little shrug, "I reckon I'm staying…"

It seemed to have been the right answer, for the tension first left Regulus, then it seemed to seep out of the adults as well.

Narcissa started commenting on Parisian fashion and the ice was broken.

Regulus didn't let go of him all evening, he only released his hand once, to place his possessively on Sirius' thigh.

He began to understand then what his brother had been trying to show him all along.

He could have Regulus in the light of day, at least for a few more years until they were expected to marry and sire the next generation of purebloods. It would be his reward for good behaviour and Regulus the ever dutiful son for managing to put him on a leash where neither kindness nor cruelty had succeeded.

But the price?

Nothing short of his soul, he fancied, or what was left of it after the sin he had committed.

Sirius plucked a blue petal from Regulus' shoulder and rubbed it to dust between his fingertips.

That was when he knew that one day rather sooner than later, Regulus' embrace would start feeling like a cage.

"I love you" would sound just like "I own you" to his ears and the hand holding his would turn into a leash.

Sirius caught his mother's eyes watching them. He read disquiet in her gaze, maybe even disgust, but there could be no doubt about the triumph shining in it. He knew the exact moment she knew that he knew, for her lips, painted a garish blood red for the festive occasion, twitched into a smile he would have called pitying if he thought her capable of any such emotion. He tensed and opened his mouth to throw down a gauntlet, he had been quiescent for far too long.

Then there was Regulus shifting at his side, brushing his shoulder against Sirius' in a gesture that could have been casual if Regulus ever did anything casually. Sirius' attention shifted immediately to the boy at his side. Regulus' brows furrowed just the tiniest bit, a quiet plea to cause no trouble on an evening that meant so much to Regulus. He delighted in the very same family gatherings Sirius loathed. He had been looking forward to this evening for weeks.

Sirius' shoulders slumped and though he didn't dare look at his mother again, he could have sworn he felt quiet smugness emanate from her.

Blue would be the color of his defeat.

The end