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He's so stupid.
It's what Father says, it's what Sirius says. He's too dumb and cockhungry to function alone. It's easy to make someone else come, but his brain stops working when it's his turn. His little cock aches and he doesn't know how to help it, so he has to go to his father or brother to soothe it or risk writhing on the sheets for hours, squishing his genitals against the mattress, hoping it'll be enough. It isn't his fault that he's always hard; they've trained him too well.
But this will show them.
He adjusts the teddy bear between his thighs. Its pale, creamy fur brushes against his foreskin, as soft as cat's fur. His dick sits perfectly in the cradle of its arms and chest, and he already knows that this is going to work.
His bed is awash with cuddly toys, paired sweetly with lacy clothes and white, silken sheets, but this one has always been his favourite. It has no eyes. He tugged them out when he was too young to understand why, hiding the beads under the floorboards as his own little secret. Poor teddy, but it kept it pure and unspoiled. It hasn't seen what's happened in this room.
It embraces him now, blind but comforting. Its fur grows damp as Regulus grinds into it, matting it with pre-cum but making a slick channel for him to thrust into. He presses it to the mattress, kneeling over its limp, lifeless body like so many have done to him, and fucks into its cushiony stomach. His girly hips rock back and forth, too wide to make him a proper man but too barren to make him a woman.
It feels good to be touched. Loved. His eyes roll back each time the head of his cock bumps the teddy's nose and his mouth drops open when his balls rub against the fluffy fur. He sticks his tongue out like a dog, unable to resist falling into his baser instincts. Dumb cunt, stupid whore. He thinks of his father's words as he humps his little cock against his childhood toy. Drool spills over his lips because he's too lost to stop it, and no one minds when he makes himself a wet, sloppy mess.
"Well, what a pleasant surprise."
Regulus opens his blurry eyes to see his brother by the door, smirking and arrogant, the perfect Black heir. He's a real man; tall and strong, with a thick cock and potent come. He makes the family so proud.
"Sirius?" Regulus reaches for him like a child. He wants his brother close, always. His hips haven't stilled; he doesn't think he could stop their twitches if he tried.
"Who said you could touch yourself, huh? Pretty sure that's against the rules, baby brother." His tone is light, humorous. He's not angry. If anything, he seems pleased at Regulus's daring. "Though I admire your creativity."
"It just—I yearned so much. It hurt, Sirius—"
He's hushed into silence. Sirius leans against the doorframe, dark eyes locked on his naked form. "Keep going. I won't tell father."
Sirius is so merciful. He'll lift this family back to greatness, unlike Regulus who can't even resist defiling himself, whose only use is his wet, little holes.
He restarts his movements, admiring nothing but Sirius's confident frame. His hole is achingly empty, and he wishes his teddy had a bulge he could bounce on or that Sirius would walk over and shove his prick into his needy little brother. Instead, he slides two fingers inside himself—he's always wet, lest someone need him. Father takes great joy in surprising him; demanding he warm his cock at the dinner table or out at parties, anywhere Regulus might be caught unprepared. He never is. This was what he was made to do.
Between the velvety weight around his cock and the fingers up his arse, he comes embarrassingly quickly, too stupid to resist his body's needs. Come spurts over his teddy and bedsheets like milky formula. His balls pump it all out of him, each useless squirt, and he collapses face-forward onto the bed, shuddering as his cock dribbles in tiny pulses.
"What a pretty sight you are," Sirius says, sounding too much like their father.
He climbs up on the bed and disappears behind Regulus. The metal of his belt rattles, and then he feels the nudge of his cockhead against his rim. He lets his fingers slip out and Sirius's thick prick replaces the void before he can feel empty. With his hand still behind him, he brushes Sirius's cock as it enters him, feeling the unyielding length sink inside. He marvels at its size, mouth salivating.
The sheets muffled his cries as Sirius pounds his hole, his pace instantly savage. Why should he care about hurting Regulus? He was born for this.
Sirius holds him still with a palm against his naked back, the heat of it making him whine. It matches the stream of come that fills him, the white spunk that coats his walls and has him grinding back down on his forgotten teddy, and it all melds together into a hazy blur of good warm happy whole. He can't figure out how to make his cock come with just his hands, so he rubs and rubs against the tacky fur of his toy, clenching around Sirius's heavy prick as it pumps its load into him.
"Good boy," Sirius hums and he must mean it because a moment later his softening cock is in his face and Regulus has the honour of cleaning it up.
The weight of it against his tongue sends him over the edge again, drooling even more spend onto his ruined bear, the tacky fluid covering his balls in a dribbly, white mess.
He doesn't try to be untidy, but it's so hard to stop himself when he's been waiting all day. He's not smart enough to resist. That's why he has his family; people wiser than him to show him his place. They always know just what he needs.