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The headboard hits the wall at the same speed as Regulus’s rapid heartbeat.
Father fucks him with no concern for Regulus’s fragile body. His only intention is to come in his sweet boy, and Regulus loves it. He loves his face being shoved into the mattress, he blushes from the filthy words Father spits at him, and he relishes the ache of being split in half. It’s his father’s right to treat him however he wants and Regulus will take it all with a smile.
He's on his back now, his knees held to the mattress—the stretch brutal enough to hurt and the pain only making him leak more—as Father sinks into him over and over, his hole clamping around his shaft like it can’t bear to be empty. He always feels blessed to be in this position. It allows him to lie like a girl and be bred, to watch his father as he takes what's his. Take and take and take until there's nothing left.
"My beautiful child," his father croons, slowing down. He grasps Regulus’s genitals and for a second he feels a flicker of fear; Father has threatened to remove them before. "Your poor clit is so swollen. Is it painful, my darling?"
Oh, it's this game. Regulus is more than happy to play along.
"Yes, Father," he squeaks. He makes his voice young and high, his face teary.
It's part of his role, but it's more than that, for Regulus loves to feel little and cared for under his father's benevolent hand. As much as he loves to hurt, he craves these softer moments more.
"My poor dove. Tell me, why is it so swollen? Why does my darling lamb hurt?"
"You—you—"
"Is it because I'm fucking your pretty pussy, sweetheart? Making it all red and sore?" His father waits for his nod, his hips rocking leisurely. "Yes, I thought so. I'm stretching you over my thick cock and it makes you ache so wonderfully, doesn’t it, pet?"
It's not an actual question, Father expects no response, but Regulus agrees anyway.
"I thought of you in bed. Of you… of your c-cock switching between my—my holes and it made me so wet and drippy. I wanted to touch, but I didn't! I swear, Father. It's only for you to touch."
"What is?"
"But…"
His father leans over him, bending his legs even further as he settles his face over his son's.
"Say it. Say what belongs to me."
Regulus squirms under his gaze, wishing he would start moving again. He hates the attention but craves it too, and his cock leaks from the unwavering scrutiny.
"My c-cunt. It's yours, Father. Please, I'm so empty, please keep moving—"
Father cuts him off with a hand over his mouth.
"Hush." He pulls back and gradually restarts his pace, his cock dragging against Regulus's tight hole. "You do not demand ; you take what you are given. Just look at what became of your brother after all his selfishness—greedy since he was a suckling. He followed the blood traitor’s cock and now the guards will give him all the prick he desires. Is that what you want too, Regulus? A different stranger's cock down your pretty throat each day? Something thick and dirty to plug up your holes?"
"No, Father!" he gasps, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. Losing his identity, being nothing but a wet toy to be used, his hole permanently gaped and painted white like a ruined toy. "Just you, only you."
Father worries Regulus will leave him, too. Sirius's abandonment hit him harder than anyone expected and he's become crueller and even more withdrawn, like the betrayal has broken something unfixable. He's shortened Regulus's leash so that he can't leave the house, sometimes not even his room. Regulus doesn't mind—his thoughts are clouded with pleasing his father, just as they always are.
"You swear, my angel?"
He looks at his father. Really looks at him. He is so much older than Regulus remembers and so much frailer. The openness in his face reveals a heartbroken man, one longing for a son that will never come home.
Regulus cannot fill that gap, but he can try.
"I swear, Father." He reaches up and cups his father's cheek, his chest aching when he leans into Regulus's touch. "You are all I think of."
Maybe it's the vulnerability or a sudden realisation of which son he’s lying with, but his father jerks back. There's disgust twisting with anger in his expression and Regulus fears he's done something wrong.
"Stop," he says, blown away by his sudden nerve. He sits up, his legs still splayed open, but his posture is confident. He looks like the man he sometimes forgets he is. "Is that all you've got? Come on, finish what you started, old man."
He hopes his voice is accurately low and arrogant; he hopes his fear doesn't show. If this risk doesn't work, he's in for a world of pain—true pain, not the kind muddled with a plugged arse or a raw throat.
"You thought I could stay gone for long? James's prick was fine, but I couldn't stop imagining it was your cock I was gagging on." He pulls his stunned father closer by his shirt collar. "After having you, it was all I could think of. I was so stupid to think another man would satisfy me."
"Sirius?"
Regulus nods, an unfamiliar smirk playing on his lips. His hands shake, but Father doesn't seem to notice.
"I've missed you, Father. My pussy missed that fat cock of yours, too." He presses their foreheads together, jealousy surging through him at how casually Sirius can behave around their father. "It's so wet, Daddy, and so hungry."
Father forces their mouths together, kissing Regulus brutally, viciously, in a way he never has before. He's furious, but filled with relief—Sirius always had a knack for coercing conflicting feelings. He pulls his hair and scratches his skin, treating him in a way reserved for his most righteous anger, and Regulus can only bask in awe at the difference. While Regulus was getting pampered with frilly clothes, spread along a four-poster bed, stretched with expensive lube that made his hole glisten, Sirius was being fucked. Mercilessly, but he gave as good as he got. He was treated with respect, like he was a worthy opponent. Treated like a man.
His father tires of his mouth and manhandles Regulus onto his front, keeping his chest to the mattress and dragging his hips up high. Regulus's legs spread on instinct and he hopes Sirius was as much of a whore for their father as he is. There's only so much of his brother he can fake.
"You stupid bitch," his father hisses. For a moment, Regulus thinks he's in trouble until his father continues. "You thought you could leave this family? You thought anyone else would accept you once they learnt what a cockslut you are? Was muggle cunt worth life imprisonment, you dumb slut?"
"No, Daddy!"
His eyes roll up when Father re-enters him. It doesn't matter what game they're playing, his father's cock will always make him shudder and squirt. It's so big and it fills him just right. His pucker strains around it as he's drawn over Father's shaft, his walls clenching and milking him without even needing to think. How Sirius could ever leave this, he'll never understand.
"Hold your sloppy hole open." He grabs Regulus's arms and yanks them back, placing his hands on his cheeks and having him spread them. "It's so loose. Mudblood prick wasn't enough for you, was it? You had to fuck your own fist to feel anything, didn't you?"
Regulus moans at the image. His tight entrance stretched around his father's wrist, closing over the thick meat of his hand. He grinds against his father's cock, pretending it's a fist instead.
"That's what I thought, my little cocktease. No one else can satisfy you like I can." Father spanks his rump and leaves a stinging handprint in his wake. "But don't you worry, pet. Daddy's here now."
And then he begins to move. The pace is even rougher than earlier; he isn't concerned about damaging his rebellious prodigal son like he is his pretty doll. Sirius can take it, Regulus cannot.
His father's big cock pounds into him, his balls slapping against Regulus’s skin, and he digs his fingers into the soft, girlish flesh of his son's hips. Later, when his father has left, he'll overlap his fingers with the bruises on his bones, admiring how much smaller his hand is. Feminine and pathetic, Father would say, but Regulus knows he loves watching them move over his broad cock.
He tries to hold back his high pitch squeals, his shameless cries for more because he can't imagine Sirius ever begging, even when fucked so perfectly. Instead, Father presses his face into the pillow, not caring that it's a struggle to breathe. His lungs burn from limited oxygen, but it's not for him to say when he needs air. Father will tell him.
"Your pretty, pink cunt opens so beautifully for me. It knows its owner." His thumb brushes Regulus's stretched hole. "It's hungry for my seed. It wants me to pump it full of babies, doesn't it? A new, perfect heir. After your tainted soul and Regulus's pitiful talent, we need a proper Black to lead the family."
It stings, and Regulus wishes it was only part of the act, but he knows it isn't. Father has said similar things to him many times before. His childish frame, his weak magic, his cunt and cock hungry brain—they've all lost the worst of their bite. Now they're nothing more than compliments. Why does Regulus need to think when he has his branded arm and his father's cock?
"—keep you leaking with my come until it's taken. Watch you grow heavy with my son. You won't be going anywhere then, will you?" Father's cock presses against his soft walls, the pressure making his own prick throb with the need to come. "Those little tits of yours will feed our child, that cunt will house his cock once he's old enough. Doesn't that make you happy?"
"Yes, Daddy," he gurgles. He can't touch himself, but he aches. His hips are in the air and he can't even rub against the bed—he must wait to come untouched or not come at all.
His father yanks his head up, arching his back harshly. "Stick your tongue out for our son's cock. That's a good boy."
Regulus licks the air, imagining a thick shaft fucking his mouth. Drool leaks from his mouth and down his chest and he wishes he could be gagging on a real, fat cock. Sirius used to fuck his face—he'd sit above Regulus's prone form and hump his prick down his throat, but he'd always look so sad afterwards. Regulus would do anything to have him here now, using him again. Maybe Father would be happier then.
"I'm going to come in you, sweet boy." He releases Regulus's hair to thrust in earnest. "Are you going to squirt with me, whore? Come on and gush around your daddy's cock like a good girl."
It's the permission that allows him to let go. He trembles where he kneels, his vision going fuzzy as his cock spurts a watery rush of come onto the bed sheets below him. He can feel his dick and balls twitch in time to his clenching hole and knows that his father is being suckled by his wet, fleshy insides. Even when he's lost in ecstasy, when he can’t remember if he's Sirius or Regulus, he's pleased he can serve his father like he was made to.
His hole squelches each time Father bottoms out, the sound like a cunt about to orgasm, and Regulus giggles at the comparison. His giggles evolve into laughs and he reburies his face in the pillow to muffle them. He's always come-drunk and stupid after his father plays with him, like he's high off of his father's love. His father ignores him; he's used to his strange behaviour. He knows if he tries to beat it out of him, his odd boy will just laugh harder.
The only thing that shuts him up is his father's come. Those heavy balls throb against him, and then the wet stream of seed begins to fill him. It's thick and potent, and Regulus arches further to make certain he's as sheathed as he can be, for he wants every drop as deep as possible. His father groans appreciatively. Regulus flutters his hole throughout, knowing Father needs his son's pussy to suck him dry and keep his spunk safe.
When he’s spent, his father's hand rubs along his side, surprisingly tender. He kisses his shoulder blade and his stubble hurts pleasantly.
"I'm so glad you're back, Sirius."