Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Thank you to Amber for inspiring this.

Written for Sarah. Happy Birthday, Babe!

No Substitute

The night air was cool around him as he polluted it with smoke, the nicotine calming his wrecked nerves. His hand was still shaking as he lifted the cigarette to his lips, but he ignored it in favour of another drag. His fellow death eaters sneered at his vice, a filthy muggle habit, yet he couldn't, wouldn't give up. If he did, he feared his mind would be a mess in no time.

"You realise that's a terrible habit, I hope?"

Regulus shrugged carelessly, though he made sure not to dislodge the hands that had just sneaked up onto his shoulders, squeezing lightly. He leant back into the firm body behind him, letting his head rest against a solid shoulder. Seconds later, and his hand was steady as he lifted the cigarette to his lips once more.

"It's an addiction I don't particularly want to fight," Regulus admitted after a moment.

Lips pressed to his neck briefly as the hands on his shoulders trailed his arms to rest instead at his hips, holding him in place.

"Hmm. You're my addiction," Rabastan replied, his nose buried against Reg's skin, inhaling deeply. "And I'm quite sure I don't want to fight my addiction either."

Throwing the cigarette on the floor and turning into Rabastan's embrace, Reg smiled, pressing their lips together. "Then we'll be addicted together."

Their skin cooling in the aftermath, Rabastan wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of the smoke but said nothing as they lay side by side, their legs entangled.

"That was fantastic," Regulus grinned lazily, turning his head to look at his lover, appreciating the sight of him basking in the moonlight. "You were particularly inspired this evening."

"I'm always inspired when it comes to you," Rabastan replied, a wicked smile on his face. "I love the sounds you make when I take you, I love you biting into my skin, I love you -"

"Keep that up and I'll expect you to fuck me again, you know?" Regulus warned.

"Who said that wasn't the plan all along?"

"Are you alright?"

"Regulus?"

"Regulus?"

"I know that was harsh, I know you don't like it when it's kids..."

"Please don't ignore me."

Rabastan sighed against the door, only the slight tang of smoke in the air telling him that Regulus was even inside and still breathing. The meeting had been awful for his younger partner, and the Dark Lord had been feeling particularly vindictive.

The door opened with a quiet click and he entered, unsurprised to find Reg sitting by the window.

"What do you need, Reg?"

"You. Just you. Make me forget," Regulus whispered, putting the cigarette out, half smoked. Rabastan nodded, a small smile on his face. Perhaps, finally, he would manage to substitute Reg's addiction for his own.

Rabastan was sleeping soundly in their bed, his face cleared of the usual lines. He looked younger, Regulus thought, and he took a moment to commit the sight to memory.

With a sigh, he shook his head at himself. Procrastinating like this wasn't helping him. Putting his packet of cigarettes on his pillow along with the note he'd only minutes before written, he bent to kiss the corner of Rabastan's mouth.

"I'm sorry."

When Rabastan woke, it wasn't to find Regulus wrapped around him like usual. It wasn't to smell the familiar scents of leather and smoke and apples. It was to a letter and a half empty cigarette packet.

I'm sorry for making you go cold turkey. I thought you could substitute your addiction with mine. I'll see you again, Rabastan... one day. I love you. Reg.

The familiar smell of smoke entered the room as Rabastan inhaled deeply. It didn't help. It never did. Nicotine could never measure up to the feeling of Regulus in his arms. It never would.