Disclaimer: The characters and locations portrayed herein belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic/Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.

Notes: This is unbeta'd, so my apologies for any mistakes.

The first time was an accident.

Lorcan had gone to look for his brother after all the other team members had returned from quidditch practice without him, which was unusual as Lysander was almost always right in the middle of whatever was going on.

When Lorcan had realised Lysander wasn't amongst the loud, joking throng of quidditch players, he had immediately made his way to the changing room to see what was taking Lysander so long. Lorcan had long ago taken the role of protector where his brother was concerned, for Lysander was open and kind and funny; and Lorcan was aware of how easily people would take advantage of that.

Upon entering the changing rooms, Lorcan was immediately enveloped in the steam that was creeping slowly from the shower room. As he made his way over, he noted Lysander's clothes on a bench, and knew that Lysander was taking one of his long showers, as was his habit every now and again.

Coming closer, Lorcan heard a whimper, and sped up immediately, visions of Lysander being hurt or tormented swimming in his mind. Lysander had been bullied when the twins had first come to Hogwarts. Bullied for his sweet gentle personality and his lack of self censorship. Lorcan had stopped it almost immediately, with a vicious hex he had learned from Uncle Harry. Everyone had learned that Lorcan Scamander was a bad tempered sod, and that attacks on his brother would be met with pain, lots of pain.

When Lorcan rounded the corner, just about to step into the shower room and start throwing curses, the sight that met him caused him the stop in his tracks, frozen from shock.

Lysander was wanking; running his hand gently up and down his erect cock, finger teasing the slit at the top. One hand was on the tiled wall, arm bracing and carrying Lysander's weight. His head was lowered, water pouring down his neck and back, over his pert, rounded arse. His eyes, those blue eyes that were the match of Lorcan's were almost closed, mere slits of blue fire; his mouth open slightly, allowing his breath to leave in little pants that seemed to go straight to Lorcan's cock.

Lysander was beautiful, and although Lorcan knew it was wrong, terribly wrong to see his brother like this and..and want him, he couldn't help himself. His cock was straining against his trousers, and he couldn't hold himself in check any longer. He moved back to a shadowed corner near the shower room entrance, a place that afforded him a perfect view of Lysander, but allowed him to hide and ensure Lysander couldn't see him.

Lowering his zip and releasing his straining cock, already wet at the tip with pre come, he bit down hard on his lip and began to stroke himself, matching his timing with Lysander. When Lysander swiped his thumb over the slit, so did Lorcan. When Lysander's fingers left his cock for a moment to ghost gently over his balls, Lorcan's fingers copied the action on his own balls.

Lysander's moans and whimpers served to make Lorcan's fingers move faster over himself, losing his rhythm and feeling his orgasm approaching with fire trailing trough his veins and star bursts behind his eyelids. As Lysander moaned a final time, low and guttural, Lorcan felt his balls tighten and couldn't hold off any more. Head falling back against the cold stone wall, he fell over the edge, come covering his hand and falling onto the floor below him.

Lorcan didn't allow himself time to think on what had happened. He shoved his softening cock back into his trousers and snuck out while Lysander finished off his shower, desperate not to get caught. He had gone back to his dorm, sat on his bed with the curtains closed and a silencing charm erected, and cried. Cried because he had just betrayed his beloved brother's trust. Cried because he had become an utterly perverted bastard. Cried because he knew that no matter how wrong it was, how perverted it was, he knew he'd watch again.

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And so it went. When Lysander took his long showers, Lorcan stood in shadows waiting for the moment when Lysander would take his cock in hand and start wanking. When Lysander closed the curtains around his bed, Lorcan knew what he was doing, and the knowledge was enough for Lorcan to close his eyes and imagine he was watching Lysander again.

Lysander knew something was wrong. Every time Lorcan flinched from an innocent touch of Lysander's hand, every time he saw Lorcan watching him from lowered eyelids, tracking his movements.

Lorcan knew he was becoming obsessed. Lysander only had to smile at him and he was hard, causing him to run off and wank, knowing that he was calling Lysander's name when he came. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was caught, as he nearly had been last week.

Seeing Lysander push two fingers roughly into his own arse and start pumping them in and out in time with his hand on his cock had driven Lorcan to the edge of his self control and the resulting moan was louder than Lysander's. It was only due to Lysander's utter absorption in his own pleasure that Lorcan was not caught.

Lorcan had become even more bad tempered, snapping at everyone who tried to speak to him, other than Lysander, cursing anyone who actually dared to touch him, like Fenella Davies had; dragging her finger slowly up his arm and pushing her large breasts against his shoulder.

It had taken Madam Pomfrey two days to find the counter curse and remove the tentacles from Fenella's stomach. She had come to Lorcan after her release from the hospital wing and asked him to teach her the curse, blushing and mumbling something about not needing a bloke when Lorcan had found his voice and asked her why she wanted to know it.

Lorcan felt slightly better at finding out this admittedly weird new kink of Fenella's. At least he wasn't the only sexual freak at Hogwarts. That didn't mean, however, that what he was doing was okay. It wasn't. Lysander would never forgive him if he ever found out, so Lorcan had to stop.

As he watched Lysander leave the dorm, muttering about going for a shower, Lorcan stood, promising himself that this would be the last time.

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Lysander was under the shower, hand stroking his cock hard and fast, three finger pumping in and out of his arse roughly, his moans and pants falling harshly from mouth and echoing in the tiled room. The loud moan that didn't come from his mouth almost stopped him in his tracks, but he realised that he knew that voice, although he'd never heard it moan like that before.

Opening his eyes slightly, he turned his head slowly and by tiny increments in the direction of the moan, and saw his brother in the shadowed corner, fisting his cock and biting his lip so hard that blood was flowing down his chin.

Making no sign that he had seen Lorcan, Lysander forced another finger roughly inside his arse, the knowledge that Lorcan was watching spurring him on. As he felt his balls tighten, he threw his head back and screamed, wordless and low.

Once his orgasm was over, and he relaxed under the hot water pouring down, soothing his taut muscles and rinsing away any evidence of his pleasure, Lysander thought about Lorcan/ Now it all made sense, the possessive looks, the temper getting even worse. He just didn't know what to do about it.

Knowing Lorcan had been watching him, had been wanking over him had turned him on more than any fantasies he'd had about other boys, and the thought of Lorcan touching him was even more exciting. It was wrong, it was definitely unacceptable by society's standards, but Lysander didn't care.

He had to talk to Lorcan.