He knew it. He had known it. What he was seeing shouldn't have been a surprise. But it was. He could feel his stomach threatening to crawl up his esophagus and flee through his open mouth. He could hear his own heart yelling at him, each beat ordering him to around and run away as fast as he could before he was caught. But he ignored it. His feet refused to move. His mouth refused to close. His eyes refused to look away. How could he look away when he was witnessing such an act of pure passion, of pure love? The way their naked bodies, glistening with a fresh layer of sweat, danced together on the desktop. The way the light of the waxing moon crept into the room through the small window, lighting up their pale flesh and illuminating the lustful looks in their eyes. The way he could hear the soft moans and whimpers of unequivocal passion escape with each thrust. It was enough to hold him there, eyes fixed on the scene before him.
But he knew it was wrong. They were boys. Boys didn't love other boys. They didn't exchange longing glances in the Great Hall or gentle touches in the hallways. They didn't make love in an empty classroom. These boys, they were poofs. Queers. Faggots. They were disgraces. But that was obvious. One was a filthy half-breed. A werewolf. A dark creature that only deserved to be slaughtered. The other…the other was a blood traitor. A piece of shit. He had turned his back on wealth, power, and his family all for that repulsive thing that was fucking him. He had turned his back on his brother.
Regulus knew it hadn't always been this way. There was once a time when Sirius had come home bragging about all of the girls he had shagged. He would talk about how so-and-so would scream his name in ecstasy as she clutched the bed sheets, or how such-and-such would drag her nails down his back just to elicit a low, guttural groan. There was once a time when he would tell Regulus almost everything. But then the werewolf came along. That faggot werewolf. He ruined everything. He took away Regulus's Sirius. He took him away from his home, his family, his respectable name…his brother. Yes, the werewolf took him away from Regulus. He took him away when he was needed most, when Walburga was getting worse.
Now the bitch didn't just hit or withhold food. She would hex. She wouldn't hesitate to use the Cruciatus Curse for a 'wrongful look' or a 'defiant tone.' That was Sirius's fault. Sirius and the werewolf. Sirius had always been there. He was there to hold Regulus after a beating, to kiss him and make him feel better in a way that only Sirius could. He was there to whisper words of comfort as he ran his long, gentle fingers through his brother's hair. He had always been there when Regulus needed him. But that was all before the werewolf fag stole him away.
Regulus should have seen this coming. He had recognized the look in his brother's piercing grey eyes whenever they rested on the half-breed. He had noticed the lingering touches beneath the table during mealtimes. He had seen the way a casually flung arm around the shoulders in the hallway was laden with just a little too much care. But Regulus had ignored it all. He had hoped that, maybe, Sirius would come to his senses. That, just maybe, Sirius would come home and be with him again. That wasn't happening now. Sirius was infatuated. He was infatuated with a faggot. He was a faggot. A dirty, ignoble, abandoning faggot.
Regulus could handle that, though, if it had been anyone other than the werewolf. The werewolf who was fucking his brother like an animal right before his eyes. The werewolf took away everything. When Sirius left him for the half-breed, Regulus had nothing. Sirius was his everything. Now he was the werewolf's everything. He was the werewolf's fuck-toy. Regulus didn't matter to him anymore. Regulus didn't matter to anyone anymore. No one cared for him like Sirius used to. No one was there to hold him or kiss everything better. It was just him. All alone. While the werewolf fucked Sirius.
He knew it. He had known it. What he was seeing shouldn't have been a surprise. But as Sirius arched into the werewolf, crying out for that filthy animal, Regulus couldn't look away. He could only feel something inside of him shatter as he longed for his brother.