For Sophy, as part of the Ultimate Fic Exchange.

I.

"They say you're dangerous," Barty whispers.

Regulus raises his brows, a crooked smile on his lips. "And who's 'they?' he laughs. "Your father? Idle gossips?"

He doesn't answer. Regulus moves closer. "Have you ever once in your life thought for yourself, Crouch?" he presses, relishing the uncomfortable way Barty squirms.

Really, he doesn't care for the answer. He doesn't care for Crouch at all, if he's honest. But he's grown fond of the way the Ravenclaw watches him, the clear hunger in his eyes. Regulus has grown to crave the attention.

"I- I just- I-"

Regulus tangles his fingers in Barty's hair, leaning in close. "What do you think?" he asks. "Do you think I'm dangerous?"

"Yes," Barty admits, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

"And yet you don't run away from me."

"You're grabbing me the hair, so that's not an easy task."

"Smartass Ravenclaw," Regulus snorts before releasing him, his grin broadening when Barty stays firmly in place. "And yet you're still here. I rest my case."

II.

"Have you lost your bloody mind?" Barty demands, shaking his head, his eyes wide in disbelief. "What you're asking me to do is- It's ridiculous!"

"What's so ridiculous about it?" Regulus asks innocently.

He knows that what he's asking is too much. But he also knows that Barty cannot resist him, and he will follow Regulus like a lost puppy.

"I don't share your prejudices," Barty says dryly.

"No, perhaps not," Regulus agrees. "But I've seen the fire in you. You hate your father. You hate living in his shadow, being molded into his clone."

Barty is silent. He stares pointedly at his feet, refusing to meet Regulus' gaze.

"This is your chance to prove that you're nothing like him," Regulus says, moving close, trailing his fingers down Barty's arm. "This is your chance to prove that you want me."

"You're asking me to burn with you."

"I don't want to do this alone."

"You have your cousin."

Regulus snorts. "Bellatrix can hardly warm my bed at night, can she?" he asks, pressing his lips against Barty's shoulder. "But you can. I need you, Barty."

Another stretch of silence. Regulus resists the urge to laugh. It's almost pathetic the way Barty melts for him.

"Okay," he says at last. "I'll join you."

III.

Barty stares at his Dark Mark, half fascination, half fear on his face. "I did it," he says in disbelief. "I did it."

Regulus pulls him closer, grinning. "Now we can be together," he murmurs.

And the way Barty presses into his touch, the way he shivers against Regulus is almost enough to drive him mad.

Regulus presses a hard, bruising kiss to his lips, laughing. "You're free, Barty. You're free," he says, tugging at Barty's shirt.

It's cute how devoted Barty is, how eagerly he obeys. He lifts the shirt over his head, staring at Regulus with expectant eyes, silently begging for more.

Regulus kisses him again, guiding him down onto the bed.

…

IV.

"Where are you going?" Regulus asks, frowning as Barty approaches the door, his cloak's hood obscuring his face. "I need you."

"The Dark Lord needs me more," Barty says dryly.

Regulus is surprised by the sudden pang of jealousy in his chest. His fingers curl into his palms, forming fists. Perhaps Barty is not as devoted as he had believed. Or perhaps his loyalties have simply changed.

"I need you more."

He doesn't know why it bothers him so much. He enjoys Barty's company. Maybe he has even grown to care for him. But it shouldn't matter to him like this.

Barty hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turns to Regulus, allowing his hood to drop.

The jealousy fades, giving way to elation. His word is enough to make Barty pause. He holds more power over Barty than their master does.

Regulus crosses the room in a few easy strides, grabbing Barty by the hair and pulling him in for kiss. A shiver of delight runs down his spine as Barty releases the doorknob, his arms wrapping around Regulus.

"The Dark Lord can wait," Regulus murmurs.

"The Dark Lord can wait," Barty agrees with a tremble in his voice.

…

V.

Regulus sits in bed, his fingers absently stroking Barty's hair. He hates himself a little bit. He had promised himself that Barty would mean nothing to him, that he would always be little more than an adoring boy who would bow at his feet.

As Barty's soft snores fills the room, Regulus wonders exactly when things had changed. When had Barty become so close that Regulus can feel him in his blood?

A sudden pop pulls him out of his thoughts as Kreacher appears. "Master Regulus has told Kreacher that it must be tonight."

Regulus feels his heart sink at those words. He tries to convince himself that it isn't a suicide mission. But he knows that even if he survives that horrors that Kreacher has described to him, defying the Dark Lord will still cost him his life.

He turns his attention back to Barty. What will happen to him when Regulus is gone? He had followed Regulus so blindly, so obediently. Will he still stay?

Guilt sours his stomach. Of course Barty will stay. He's nearly as faithful to the Dark Lord as he is to Regulus. And with Regulus gone, who will he have left?

Anything that happens to him will be Regulus' fault.

Regulus leans down, kissing Barty's cheek, grateful that he doesn't wake. "I'm sorry," he whispers, blinking back tears. "I hope one day you'll understand."

"Master Regulus, we must be going," Kreacher urges.

Regulus opens his mouth to speak, but the words stick to the back of his throat. He's never dared say them before, but, since he won't live much longer, it only feels right. "I love you," he manages before climbing to his feet.

Barty stirs and rolls onto his side, clinging to the pillow as though it's a lover. "Reg," he mumbles, but his eyes do not open.

Regulus forces his gaze away before taking the elf by the hand. "Let us begin."