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It's a strange sensation to walk through the corridors of Malfoy Manor when under invitation rather than skulking in the shadows for a bit of mischief or to visit his cousin Cissy. Meda is his favorite cousin, but Cissy had always been there for him in her own way. She'd eased his wounds and helped him recover from his mother's nasty curses and hexes in a way that would never implicate either of them. She'd fed him life-saving intel without betraying her husband. In return, he'd watched out for her the best he could as well, and had made sure Lucius knew what would come to him if he ever harmed her.
It has been a long few years since he has been here. Five months or so since the end of the war, and Lily and James safely situated back in their home again to raise his precious godson; Bellatrix, the barmy nutter, locked away with the rest of the convicted Death Eaters. Lucius had been acquitted with evidence of being forced to take the Dark Mark against his will at the behest of his sadistic father Abraxas, as well as evidence of use of the Imperius Curse and Cruciatus; the man still gets shaky from the nerve damage. Sirius is surprised not only to receive the invitation, but also to see how much brighter the place is. Malfoy Manor had always been done in varying shades of gleaming white, had been all the colder for it. Now, as he walks through the corridors, resisting the urge to skulk in shadows, he can see touches of color that can only be Narcissa, insisting on creating a more welcoming atmosphere for her child, a month older than little Harry, without the Darkl Lord Snakeface Voldiepants breathing down her neck, or Abraxas there glaring and judging every move she makes.
It feels far less forbidding, less suffocating. Sirius can actually breathe here.
It helps that the House Elves aren't eyeing him like he's diseased, pretending not to see the Mistress' cousin while also watching out for the safety of family heirlooms. It seems they can't care less now.
“Good evening, Sirius,” Narcissa's soft, cultured voice greets warmly, a lightness to her face he hasn't seen in a long time. Eight-month-old Draco is a cradled in a swaddle wrapped around her torso, and Sirius is careful to curve himself so he doesn't jostle the sleeping babe when he bends to air-kiss her cheeks.
They must look an odd pair, Narcissa in designer robes and gown, and Sirius every bit the bad boy in ripped jeans, ripped shirt with a low-cut V-neck, chains and buckles, leather biker's jacket, heavy boots spelled clean so they don't track mud in her pristine home, piercings through his ears and his left eyebrow, beads and braids through his hair and tattoos on his arms and chest. Even his eyes are lined in black
“Hello, Cissy, you're looking lovely this evening,” he tells her sincerely. He leans back, letting a soft smile curve his mouth. “Really good, actually. I can't remember the last time I saw you look relaxed and happy.”
“A lot has changed. I'm allowed to be happy,” Narcissa agrees, reaching up to tuck a piece of Sirius' wavy black hair behind a pierced ear. She rubs over one of the obsidian beads piercing Sirius' cartilage, then the black crow's feather dangling from his lobe—a piece he'd had made from a feather Regulus had plucked from his own Animagus form.
Sirius frowns briefly, staring at her with concern. “I had hoped you were not entirely miserable, Cissy.”
“It was not all bad, cousin, of course not, and I have my sweet Draco as a result, so I have less to regret,” Narcissa assures with a truly sappy, soft smile for her infant. “Our marriage was arranged, and Lucius has been an adequate lover and provider, despite our circumstances. He did his best to shield me, and then Draco, from the decisions his father forced him to make before the man passed.”
“Bloody old codger,” Sirius mutters darkly. Unable to help himself, he reaches out to touch Draco's downy blond wisps. The baby's brows crinkle, but he remains blessedly asleep.
“Quite.” Narcissa's cool blue eyes sparkle with hidden mischief, and a giddy feeling flutters in his chest briefly. Memories of a few carefree times in their shared childhood flash in his mind's eye. Narcissa had never been the prankster he was and still is, but she had a mind for revenge and pettiness that often complemented his own nature. “Without his meddling and the dark shadow of the Dark Lord encroaching upon us, Lucius and I have been able to revist our arrangements, our expected duties, and our relationship as a whole.” Narcissa turns to stand beside him, arm linked through his, and leads the way down a hallway.
“And what does that have to do with me, lovely cousin?” Sirius inquires, trying to follow along with her storyline.
“Our marriage contract is more or less fulfilled, as I have borne an heir, a healthy one who clearly carries the beauty standards ancestral Malfoys valued,” Narcissa tells him, and he thinks perhaps she'll ignore his question for now. “Unfortunately, the type of bond we were required to undertake at our wedding prevents divorce. Divorce is considered a disgrace to the Malfoy family. He could kill me, or disown me. To disown me would leave me in disgrace, destitute, and unable to raise or see my child by the laws of magic. Neither of us are willing to go through with either option, as we are quite fond of each other.”
“No love?” Siruis frowns, watching her more than where they are going.
“I love him,” Narcissa replies after a quiet moment. “But not as a wife loves her husband. I love him as a dear friend, as two people who have weathered shared hardships, and as the father of my child. I love him, likely always will, but I am and never have been in love with him. Lucius has admitted the same for me.”
Narcissa is kind enough to allow Sirius some time to process. His world view is rapidly shifting, and emotions he has long ignored and repressed are clamoring for his attention now. Narcissa is married to an attractive man who has treated her nobly and gently, but they do not love each other romantically. Narcissa has asked him here after a conversation with her husband about the future of their continued existences together.
“How did your discussion go?” Sirius finally asks.
“I believe rather well.” A sly smile flashes across her face for the blink of a second. Her expression smooths into something more mild immediately after. “Quite a few truths come out. We are more alike than we originally thought, in any event.”
“Oh? Do tell, Cissy; how you love to keep me on tenterhooks. The Muggles have a saying 'like pulling teeth', and I feel a bit like it waiting for you to spill the tea!”
“Well, we are both comfortable in our current living arrangements. We have always retained separate rooms for the sake of privacy and respecting boundaries. As it turns out, we both also enjoy dalliances with members of the same sex.” Her grin is downright devilish now as she gazes at her cousin, who feels thoroughly flabbergasted. “I believe the term for my personal identity is bisexual, as I do not deny I loved laying with my husband when we tried for a baby, or had to consummate our marriage. Lucius, however, prefers men exclusively. He admitted to taking aphrodisiacs prior to our encounters in order to be able to perform without insulting me or making me feel inadequate.”
“Lucius is gay?” Sirius repeats, amazed. He never would have guessed. It opens a whole new world view, and his brain runs through the many instances he's observed Lucius, social situations, incidents where he'd rebuffed female attention. The lack of public displays of affection between the two of them, even years after betrothal and marriage, despite apparent affection between them.
Lucius was gay, is gay, and trapped in a marriage with a woman for social status and to produce an heir for the Malfoy line.
Lucius likes men. And Sirius, who had privately lusted after the seemingly arrogant prick for years, had only ever told Narcissa once while heavily drunk and lamenting a failed relationship with a different blond bloke before graduating Hogwarts. He had always assumed Narcissa forgot or simply didn't care, as she never brought it up, used it for blackmail, or avoided him thereafter.
Apparently she was keeping it in her pocket for a special occasion.
“We intend to stay married, of course,” his cousin continues. “No possibility of divorce, we care too much for each other to murder or disgrace each other, and we have a child to raise now. However, we have both agreed that as long as we are honest about who we are with and are respectful of the rest of our marriage and each other, we can see other lovers that appeal to us. As such, I have been seeing Kalena Nott for the past three months. We are very happy, and she treats Lucius like a friend so that no one has any hard feelings. She adores Draco, and he and little Theo get along quite well.”
“Well who could not adore him? He's precious.”
The proud mother beams, squeezing Sirius' arm. She presses a kiss to her sleeping child's head, and the baby makes an adorable sleepy coo. Sirius uses immense restraint in not pinching a pale, chubby cheek.
“A week or so ago, Lucius overindulged in some forty-year-old whiskey he found hidden in his father's rooms,” Narcissa says. “And he confessed a few certain truths. Things I never would have guessed but swore I wouldn't abuse. He has placed a trust in me this evening to make something very good happen for him.” Her eyes, clear and honest and hopeful in their sparkling blue, turn to meet Sirius' blue-gray. “Something good for both of you.”
They're stopped in front of a closed door that hums with the strength of its privacy charms, Sirius realizes. They are in a part of the house he has never explored before. He blinks, a little lost for words, unsure of what he's about to walk into but also secretly thrilled. Excitement crawls under his skin and heats his blood. He stares at the door and can only imagine what it protects beyond.
“Cissy...”
Her smile is soft, gentler than he's seen in a long time. “Everything has been arranged with a lot of thought and consent, at least on my and Lucius' end. You are not obligated to follow through with anything from here on out. I only request that you open the door and consider it for a moment before you decide to leave.” She lifts up to kiss his cheek. Then she steps back.
Sirius remains still, staring at her for long seconds. Eyes like a sky turning to storm go back to the door, but he can't sense any form of deception or ill-intentions. Narcissa would never put herself or Draco—especially Draco—at risk to play a prank or ambush Sirius, and it doesn't fit the conversation they've just had in any event.
So he takes a steadying breath and silently turns the knob, pushing the door open, all silent due to the heavy magics.
His breath catches in his lungs, eyes flying wide open. His heart thumps hard once, then jumps into a rapid pace. A rare flush crosses his cheeks at the sight in front of him.
Lucius stands in the middle of the room, stark naked except for a few notable items of jewelry and bondage gear. His hair is loose and flowing around his shoulders, back, and torso. There is a silver and sapphire amulet that he knows Narcissa gifted him when she announced her successful conception, to honor him as a future father. The pendant rests between his pecs, which are adorned with sparkling, bejeweled barbell nipple piercings—something Sirius would never have expected a Pureblood like Lucius to submit to. A blindfold wraps around his head, and a spider ring-gag holds Lucius' plush, pink lips open wide. He can see saliva pooling around his tongue.
He's standing with his legs forcibly spread by a metal bar attached by leather padded cuffs to his ankles. A set of neck-and-wrist spreader bars holds his wrists aloft at level with his throat, a foot or so out from the elegant column of flesh, padded with leather to prevent injury. A chain from the ceiling connects to the back of the locked leather collar part of the neck-and-wrist bonds, keeping the man upright and straight-backed, unable to slouch. His body hair appears to have been removed; not even a pube or underarm hair remains, skin smooth and glowing.
Lucius' toned thighs tremble minutely, and the movement draws Sirius' attention to his manhood. It's a lovely cock, which is a strange thing to think, but it truly is. Pale like the rest of him, a little larger than average—a size perfectly capable of pleasing any lover—with a few prominent veins. Hard as it is now, it's a fetching shade of pink, testicles swollen below. There's a cock ring around the base, plumping up the scrotum and keeping anything but a few beads of pearly precum from escaping. Upon closer inspection, he sees the ring is made of a rubber material with two silver snake heads, with a bit of curved neck to ensure the viewer can tell the species, at the top biting a tiny circle where the clasp is located.
The distinguished blond is gorgeous this way. Naked and vulnerable and waiting, offered up on a silver platter for anyone who is willing to snatch him up.
Sirius knows he's been staring at the sight before him for long minutes, stunned and unable to help but fully appreciate it in all its glory. As soon as the realization hits him, that he's the one being offered this delectable morsel, he shoots a quick glance back at Narcissa watching from the hallway. A flick of his fingers and a short burst of magic has the door silently shutting without so much as the click of the lock activating behind him.
Arousal throbs low and hot in his belly. Without a word, Sirius steps forward, yet to make a sound. Lucius hasn't seemed to realize he is no longer alone, and Sirius briefly wonders if the blindfold is charmed to muffle sound as well, as the blond doesn't react to the soft thuds of Sirius' boots on the floor. The raven-haired man takes off his leather jacket and fingerless gloves, and they disappear into the ether thanks to whatever magic is in the room before they can hit the floor.
Unable to resist, Sirius inserts his index and middle fingers inside Lucius' open mouth, pressing down on his slick tongue. Lucius twitches, startled, and lets out a soft grunt of surprise at the contact. The pooled saliva drools messily out of open lips, down his chin, dribbling onto his sculpted chest and amulet. Lucius may not have an Auror's build, but he's toned and muscular all the same, and if Sirius is to make him squish his arms to his sides, his pecs would make a lovely masculine cleavage in which for him to indulge.
Lucius moans softly, and dare he say a little needily, while Sirius' fingers play with his tongue. Calloused pads rub and press along it, and blunt fingernails, freshly painted with black polish, briefly scrape the soft, sensitive flesh. Drool continues to ooze out of his mouth, and it only serves to make Sirius' cock plump and twitch in the confines of his black, torn jeans.
“What a lovely sight you make, my dove,” Sirius murmurs finally, eyes heated with lust and darkening with desire deeper than he's ever felt before. Lucius moans a little louder in response and leans forward toward the sound of his voice. Ah, it appears he can hear still. Perhaps the muffling is proximity based, which allows any occupants in the room to go unnoticed until they are close to their trussed-up victim. There are so many ideas he can use this for, but maybe later. Sirius grins. “Is this all for me, my pet? Have you wanted a different Black this whole time?”
Lucius whines, a noise most undignified of a Pureblood of the Malfoys' caliber, and nods three times. His breath quickens the slightest bit from its previous measured rhythm, excitement apparent. Sirius thinks he can see his plush lips twitching, as if in an attempt to close around the digits. Perhaps he'd already be sucking them otherwise.
He reaches around the back of the shorter man to find and unhook the clasp of the chain hanging from the ceiling. Then of course he can't help but run fingers through all of that silken silvery-blond hair, thick and long and fragrant. Lucius seems to hang on every bit of contact, arching forward and making soft little needy noises.
Who would have guessed Lucius Malfoy is such a blatant, needy Sub?
Sirius bunches up the platinum blond tresses in his hand and uses it to slowly direct Lucius down to his knees, careful not to knock him down. Lucius naturally tilts his head up and strives to keep Sirius' fingers in his mouth. By now, Sirius' erection is rock hard and straining. He releases Lucius' hair to fumble at his belt and fly, which urges Lucius to awkwardly shuffle on his spread knees to get closer.
It feels natural as anything to take out his heavy, throbbing cock—nearly double Lucius' size, he's smug to see, with a hefty girth that he has been told creates a delicious burn when he uses it on his lovers—and rest its weight along Lucius' cheek. Allowing the man to feel its massive size and heaviness, to get a scent for the clean musk and smell of man. He sees pale nostrils flare, and the deep moan vibrates around his fingers.
“There are so many things I want to do to you, my dove,” Sirius tells him, thumb tracing along a plump lower lip. His fingers delve a little further back into his mouth, and Lucius licks clumsily. “So many fantasies I've had of you. I wonder what all you'd let me do. Pretty thing like you, raised to be proper and respectable, trussed up and at my mercy. How deep is your depravity?”
Lucius, of course, can't give a proper answer, gagged as he is. He makes a soft noise and rubs his cheek, devoid of stubble and smooth with no doubt a precise skin regimen, carefully along Sirius' pulsing erection. A shiver ripples over porcelain skin, and it has nothing to do with the cold. He whines in protest when Sirius removes his fingers, but soon it's muffled and cut off as Sirius tucks the head of his cock between the spread-open lips. Eagerly, the blond puts his tongue to work, licking and stroking the mushroom tip and sensitive glans, wherever the pink organ can reach. Sirius groans, holding his cock steady, tilting his head back as he settles to just enjoy the hot, slick attentions of his eager new lover.
Lucius seems to give his all as best as he can without the use of his hands, unable to close his lips around the turgid flesh, and balancing on his knees precariously. He bobs his head to try to get more of Sirius' shaft, drooling messily while working and swirling his tongue. It's the sloppiest blowjob Sirius has ever had, but it's easily the best as well.
While his lover is distracted with his task, Sirius strips out of his shirt, ties his hair back in a low pony with a tattered elastic from around his wrist, and shoves his tight jeans down his thighs a little further. He pulls his cock from Lucius' mouth, only to shift his hips and stuff in one of his fat balls in its place. The blond adjusts easily, and sloppy saliva coats the raven's scrotum within seconds. His wrists twist and fingers flex where they're restrained, restless and desperate to please.
Sirius lifts one foot and presses the smooth top of his boot carefully to Lucius' bound, swollen balls. Lucius moans around his mouthful, and Sirius groans and shudders as the noise vibrates and tingles along his groin. He carefully grinds the leather against his helpless prey, watching sensuous hips sway and roll. Then he adjusts the angle to press the rougher tread of the boot along the dripping, hard shaft. The noise Lucius makes then sounds almost wounded, and his hips jutter, but his tongue hastens in its ministrations, and he strains to take more of Sirius' balls into his mouth.
“What a desperate little cockslut,” Sirius remarks almost breathlessly. He licks his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from such a gorgeous, salacious display. “Would you do anything for me, Lucius, as long as I promised you my cock in the end?”
Slurping lewdly, at first it seems he didn't hear. Then Lucius nods, making a noise that can only be described as a wordless plea. He humps his hips forward, almost losing his balance, to rub his cock against the rough tread of Sirius' boot.
“Really? How interesting. How far does that go, hm? I want to claim you, Lucius. Make you my own so I can keep you forever. I've wanted to fuck you uptight ass since Hogwarts, even when you acted like we were all beneath you. Like we were so much scum under your shoe. Here you are wanting to be the one to be stepped on.” He put a little more pressure on Lucius' groin, grinding, watching his body hunch even as he leans closer, further into the painful attention.
Sirius backs off and crouches down. His flesh is dappled with sweat, lust and pleasure like flames under his skin. Lucius' tongue pokes out from the ring-gag, waiting for the next thing to happen, willing to accept whatever Sirius dishes out. Without a second thought, the darker wizard spits a wad of saliva directly into the open cavern. Lucius squeaks, startled, and Sirius' fingers delve quickly into silken hair to jerk his head up and back.
“Swallow,” he commands gruffly, blue-gray eyes glinting. It takes Lucius mere seconds to obey, and he mewls as his throat accepts Sirius' spit. “Yes. Yes, what a good, obedient bitch.” He lifts himself above his kneeling victim, letting a long, slow ooze of drool to drop from his mouth into Lucius'. The blond gladly accepts, tongue squirming and lapping upwards to take in more, and he doesn't swallow until Sirius commands it. Sirius ends it with a quick lick at his tongue. Lucius whimpers and shudders at the almost-kiss.
Black-nailed fingers dig through platinum tresses until they're curled around fabric and pulled it free. Silver eyes, glazed with pleasure and need, blink up at him in surprise. Sirius smirks, then presses his lips to the corners of those eyes to sip up the overwhelmed tears beading there. Lucius pants softly against his throat, holding still. Pale lashes flutter and tickle his lips. His salty tears are like candy on Sirius' tongue.
“Precious dove,” he croons, grinning when Lucius makes a soft coo in response. “I can hardly decide what to do with you. There are so many things I have imagined. And you are turning out to be such a good submissive, a perfect boy, aren't you?” At Lucius' hesitant nod, eyes a little wary but no less attentive and eager, body leaning close for more contact, Sirius drops a kiss to the tip of his perfect, straight nose. “What would you allow me to do? Anything I wanted?”
Lucius nods, eyes bright and eager.
“What if it's humiliating? Something Purebloods like you would consider depraved? Something that would have dear old dad rolling in his grave. Even then?”
Again, the blond nods, swallowing. It could be nervousness, or it could be desire. His silver eyes keep flitting between Sirius' eyes and his smirking lips. Sirius' cock throbs, and he feels precum dribble down the straining shaft, sliding down over his balls, too. He's half-tempted to cease the games and sink into the delightful, willing heat of Lucius' backside.
But he's having such fun now. He's loathe to give it up now. Sirius has never been known to leave well enough alone, after all.
“What if I decide to claim you like an animal?” Sirius demands, grinning sharply, holding Lucius' head to keep him steady, to maintain eye contact. “What if I piss all over you like the dog I am, hm?” Silver eyes widen, astonished, and Sirius laughs. “I'd cover you in it, rub it in so you smell like me, like mine. Force my cock down your throat and piss there, too, make you drink it, so I'm claiming you from the inside—”
Lucius lets out a high-pitched cry and practically convulses in Sirius' grip, cutting the raven off. A quick glance down shows that the blond's thighs are twitching and trembling, hips gyrating a little, and more precum has dribbled from his tip despite the decorative cock ring binding him up. The tip of his pretty phallus is darkening, reddening. It looks deliciously painful. Sirius licks his lips, eyes shooting back up to Lucius' flushed and slightly embarrassed face, arousal etched into his every beautiful feature.
“You filthy little slag,” Sirius accuses, delighted. “You actually like the idea, don't you? You want the black sheep of the Ancient and Noble House of Black to piss all over you, in you, and claim you like so much territory.” He laughs, eyes sparkling, giddy. “I really can do anything I want, can't I?”
Inspired with new vigor, Sirius bounces to his feet and strips the rest of his clothes and his boots off. Lucius blatantly stares, panting where he continues to kneel. Sirius knows he's attractive, muscular and tall with dark hair and tattoos and blue-gray eyes that his previous ex-lovers told him are piercing and hot in the best of ways. The bad boy look in leather always makes his targets swoon. It strokes his ego for someone as ethereally and classically beautiful as Lucius to desire him so completely. He is a gorgeous gift, and Sirius no longer wishes to waste time. Why keep talking and pondering when he can simply take what's offered?
Sirius steps around Lucius and pauses at the sight there. Long sleek back muscles curve and flow down to the swell of a truly gorgeous ass. The robes Lucius wears do not do him justice, hiding a plump set of globes that he is delighted to see is not all toned and hard muscle. There is fat to it, enough to grasp and squeeze, enough to bounce and jiggle when spanked and to cushion a pelvis pounding against them. His mouth waters, and he nearly chokes on his own spit at the divine sight.
He shakes himself back into action, crouching to uncuff Lucius' ankles. Then he hooks his arms around Lucius' lean body and lifts, bringing him up from his knees to his feet with a smooth motion of pure physical strength. Oh yes, he could definitely pick the shorter, lighter man up and toss him around. Hold him up and fuck him against a wall without so much as a Feather-light charm. By the sound of Lucius' needy little moan, he's realized it too, and it excites him.
Holding Lucius upright and tight against his chest, he grinds his hips forward, sliding the steely rod of his cock between the plush curves of his ass. Lucius groans and pants, yelping when one hand reaches up to twist and pluck a pink, pierced nipple, making it rosy and hard and oh-so-sensitive. The other hand bunches in white-gold hair and jerks his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his throat to nipping teeth and suckling lips.
“I'm going to take you, claim you, fuck this gorgeous ass until you can't walk for a week,” Sirius growls lustfully, lifting his mouth from the spectacular bruise he's created. Lucius' ass arches back against his hips, and he grinds roughly between his cheeks again. “Oh you like that, love? You're going to be such a good boy, aren't you? Taking whatever you're given and begging for more?”
Across the room is a tall bench with a wide, padded seat. Sirius nudges Lucius and marches him forward to bend him over it. “Oh now that's a lovely sight,” he says, admittedly a bit like a perv. Lucius doesn't seem to mind, however, as he arches his back and wiggles his ass a little, legs spread. Unable to resist, Sirius reaches out and grabs both asscheeks, squeezing and molding the squishable flesh in his greedy hands. The sight and the feel is everything. Sirius can easily see himself becoming a dirty old groper. He needs this ass in his hands, pressed against his body, frequently.
He spreads Lucius' cheeks after long minutes groping and squeezing, and gazes upon the dusky-pink opening hidden there. Saliva floods his mouth. He brushes a thumb over the tight little furl, watching it flex at the stimulation. A quiet noise of need shudders from Lucius, and he presses further back into Sirius' touch. Below and between his legs, his dangling cock drips steadily with his arousal. His lovely pale skin is flushed and sweaty, the perfect picture of delicious sin.
Sirius crouches down and puts his tongue to that pretty pink hold without so much as a warning. Lucius flinches in surprise, which devolves into a wail of pleasure, panting audibly. Sirius groans against him, licking and prodding at his lover's rectum, plying teeth and lips as well to suck, lick, and outright molest the entrance, working it to soften and melt until his stiffened and pointed tongue can thrust inside. The noises Lucius makes are desperate, needy, pleading for more with wanton abandon. They're like music to Sirius' ears, and he has to reach a hand down to squeeze the base of his own cock so he doesn't come too soon.
Then he's adding fingers. Swirling his tongue and delving deeper with fingers, the raven-haired wizard works on stretching his lover open. He loves to do this the physical, manual way rather than using spells and charms. It's great if it's for a fast and dirty quickie, but when he's taking his time? There's little he likes more than taking his partner apart until they're a crying, sweating, whimpering mess.
And Lucius is so pretty as he cries and mewls.
Tongue pushed all the way in and licking his walls, three fingers spreading him wide and thrusting in and out, Sirius' other hand drops down to curl around Lucius' weeping prick. A high-pitched keening erupts from the blond's throat, and his hips can't seem to decide whether to continue rolling back into Sirius' mouth or squirm away from the hand stroking his cock. This time, Sirius can distinctly hear the word he's trying to say: “Nooooooo.”
Sirius lifts his head, though his fingers stay buried inside, using his spit as slick to thrust in and out steadily. He stands and leans over Lucius' back so he can breathe into his flushed-red ear. He has to adjust the position of the other arm to around his waist so he can still stroke the hard, wet phallus. “No? Did my dove say no?” He nips sharply at the shell of Lucius' ear while the smaller man whines. “Do you really want me to stop, dove? Take my fingers out and leave you here dripping and unsatisfied? No cock in your ass or mouth, no tongue tasting your flesh, no chances of coming for the rest of the evening...”
“No no no no no,” Lucius denies, pressing back into the fingers frantically with little whimpering noises and a shake of his head. He pants, legs trembling where Sirius' thighs press to the backs of them. He doesn't try to run from the hand on his cock again, enduring it mindlessly.
“No? You want me to stay?” he croons, teasing.
Lucius nods, panting.
“You want me to stay the night, pretty dove?”
More nodding, and he tries to lift himself to press closer to Sirius' chest, seeking contact and warmth.
Sirius grins and presses a kiss to Lucius' neck. He inhales the sent of his sweat and the tang of his expensive bodywash, the soft fragrance of his hair. Lifting his face further, Sirius licks his lips and hesitates only for a moment before he asks, “Want me to stay forever?”
Lucius' reaction is emphatic this time, body desperate to get as close as possible. He nods so hard, his sweat-damp hair flies haphazardly, and the amulet around his neck jingles.
Sirius' hands leave Lucius' body in a flash. Before the blond can utter protest, he flips Lucius around and jerks him up so he's perched on his ass on the bench. Standing between spread thighs, groins only inches away from grinding, Sirius reaches around the blond head to unbuckle the gag. As soon as the metal prongs have been pried from Lucius' spit-sloppy mouth, Sirius claims swollen lips in a deep kiss. His tongue delves in to rub along Lucius', lips massaging and sucking his, teeth nibbling but carefully avoiding uncomfortably clacking against the other's. He swallows every sweet moan and mewl, one hand buried in loose, thick tresses, tugging at the scalp gently, while he curves his other arm around Lucius' torso.
It's so easy to lose themselves in impassioned kisses, eyes closed and heads tilted, bodies pressed close. Their tongues slide in an erotic, languid dance, exploring each other's mouths, heated and needy, breaths panted and stuttered through their noses. Sirius feeds him a little more spit, grinning against pale lips when he obediently swallows it down without needing to be asked.
“Wonderful, my dove,” Sirius murmurs, caressing through long locks. “So sweet for me. I think you've earned a reward. I'm about to fuck you, Lucius. Do you want it on your knees, bent over the bench, or just like this, facing me?” His hands drop to tease cute cherried nipples, tormenting the hardened nubs.
“Facing you, please,” Lucius breathes immediately, silver eyes hazy with lust, pupils dilated. “Please, Da—Sirius, can I hold you, touch you? I've wanted to for so long...” He twists his wrists in their cuffs, fingers flexing as if to emphasize his need for tactile contact. It honestly is pretty cute, despite the sexual charge in the room.
Sirius catches the slip-up immediately with a wicked grin. “Oh I think that can be arranged...but only if you tell me what you were about to call me just now.” Lucius' face goes deep red with embarrassment, and he tries to duck his head to hide, but Sirius is quick to cup his jaw, keeping his face tilted up. “Ah ah, pretty dove, no hiding. What were you going to call me?”
The normally arrogant, prideful Pureblood tries to resist the cooing and cajoling, the first sign of any type of defiance since they'd started their little erotic games. Sirius takes joy in watching, amused to the max. He lays sharp little smacks to the insides of his thighs to make Lucius jump and yelp. He pinches and twists those pretty nipples, toying with the sparkling barbells, and Lucius cries out and arches with a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.
“Daddy!” the blond blurts out after several long minutes of delicious torment. “I tried to call you Daddy! Please, Siri, please fuck me!”
Sirius barks out a triumphant laugh even as he captures Lucius' lips in a rough kiss again. “Good boy, Lucius, very good boy. Let Daddy take care of you, hm?”
“Yes, Daddy, please, Daddy,” Lucius gasps between kisses, his cock twitching and nearly purple with arousal. Clearly, he's lost his ability to resist, small as it was to begin with. He's not in control, and likely Sirius refraining from mocking him for his Daddy kink, instead indulging it with a smooth and natural application of the term, has comforted him and encouraged him to just give in, let loose, entrust Sirius with everything they want and need to sate themselves mutually.
It's a beautiful thing to watch, and were they not in the middle of something, Sirius would take more time to admire it all unfold with leisure.
Sirius leans in to kiss and suck along the faded mark on Lucius' arm, the one that no longer holds a distinct shape or outline with the death of the Dark Lord his father had forced him to pledge to. Now it's like a gray bruise, a faded tattoo, and Sirius wonders if his lover would acquiesce to getting a design of Sirius' choosing to cover and erase the bad memory, the tormented reminder, with something good.
Definitely a conversation for later, he thinks as he bites hickeys into the flesh instead. It seems far more sensitive here, and Lucius' voice breaks as he moans.
Sirius backs off eventually and undoes one cuff, then the next, from Lucius' wrists. He detaches the bars from the leather collar, leaving it around the slender, pretty throat for the aesthetic of it. He tosses the metal bars to the side, uncaring of where they land. Lucius lurches forward, arms wrapping almost desperately around Sirius' broad shoulders and strong neck, making needy little noises as he goes in for a hard, deep kiss. Sirius easily takes control back, biting his lips and swallowing down any other lovely noises greedily.
“Wanton slut,” he gruffs, pressing their bodies tight together, their cocks sliding and grinding against each other. “Horny little tart. Gonna fuck your greedy cunt till you pass out. Till you're so full of my cum, your belly will bulge with it. Maybe I'll knock you up, make you carry an heir of my own, fuck you full while you grow heavy with my child.”
“Yes, yes. Anything you want, Daddy,” Lucius mumbles mindlessly, thighs clamping around Sirius' narrow hips, heels digging into the meat at the back of Sirius' muscular thighs. “Fuck me please. I need you so bad, Daddy.”
“You're so pretty when you beg.” With a flick of his fingers, he casts a wandless spell that slicks his cock and fills Lucius' asshole with warm lube. He's played long enough, and Lucius has been so good. Time to focus on getting them both where they want.
The first thrust in has his large, throbbing cock halfway buried. He'd worked Lucius open so well and lubed them so thoroughly that there is hardly any resistance at all up until that point. He groans, feeling all that tight, hot flesh clasping around him like a velvety glove. “Fucking hell, love,” he gasps, hips rolling in shallow little thrusts, just to luxuriate in the feel of his boy's perfect ass.
“So good, Daddy,” Lucius mewls, his hips rolling in little circles as he tries to match Sirius, like something out of a Muggle porn. “So big...”
Sharp white teeth flash in a smug, devilish grin. “That's only half, darlin',” he confesses in a low, deep, smooth voice. He chuckles at Lucius' wide, astonished eyes and mouth hanging agape. “You're in for a real ride, beautiful.”
With that, Sirius hooks Lucius' knees in the crooks of his elbows, making them lift, hands gripping the meat of toned thighs for stability. Lucius' arms and hands grapple broad shoulders to cling and hold on. His swollen, purpled cock smears precum all over Sirius' abdomen. The new position changes the angle of where his cock spears into warm depths, and he slides deeper into Lucius' body. Lucius arches with a weak cry. Sirius firms up his grip and thrusts.
Sinking in to the hilt, balls pressed to Lucius' fat ass, is euphoric. Sirius doesn't think he's come even close to this feeling with previous lovers. If he hadn't already made the decision, this right here would have cemented his desire to keep Lucius for his own. No other ass will do; no other lover, no matter their lineage or personality or looks, could compare to what he has right now.
When he glances down, pride and ego roll through him like a wave of heat as he sees the slightest little bump in Lucius' lower abdomen. Sirius' cock is so big and buried so deep, Lucius' belly had bowed out to accommodate it.
“Beautiful, Lucius. You take me so well.” The praise makes Lucius gasp, and his hole flutters around the phallus spearing him. Sirius can't hold back after that. He fucks deep and fast into Lucius' willing, eager body. The lube makes the going smooth, and the angle reaches deep into Lucius' guts, stroking every last nerve ending he has inside. If he looks down, he can see the movement of his cock under pale flesh, reaching deep and then receding in time to his pelvis' thrusts. In no time, he has the blond aristocrat moaning and mewling like the sluttiest whore in Knockturn Alley.
The room rings with the sound of a strong pelvis smacking roughly against plump flesh, grunts and groans, and slutty moans and whimpers. Sirius leans forward into Lucius' space, breathing the same air and tasting reddened, swollen lips when he has the concentration or breath for it. The heels of Lucius' bobbing feet bump rhythmically against his flanks. The bench thuds and scrapes with the power of their lovemaking, adding a counterbeat.
Lucius does his best to roll his hips, fucking himself onto Sirius' ramrod-like dick, although he has very little leverage. Sirius has to concentrate on not dropping his lover when he adjusts his grip, or knocking over the bench that rocks beneath them, but it turns out for the best. The minute difference in angle puts them in the perfect position for Sirius to stimulate and prod at Lucius' prostate. The blond flings his head back, hair flying, and he chokes on a scream of euphoric bliss. His body convulses, and if not for that gorgeous cockring binding his testicles and prick, Sirius has no doubt that he'd have come from that first touch.
That bared neck is too tempting to ignore. Sirius braces to make sure he doesn't lose that perfect position, then leans forward to bite and suck a truly marvelous lovebite into all that pale flesh. The vibration of Lucius' voice tingles over his lips and tongue. It takes a moment for him to focus through the haze, but he soon realizes that his boy is begging, pleading for release as his most sensitive spot is pummeled by his lover's thick, long dick.
He sounds desperate. He sounds wrecked. He sounds divine. It's absolutely beautiful.
“That's right, baby,” he growls, biting sharply and leaving red teeth marks. His hips are losing rhythm, abdomen coiled tight and almost painful, balls drawn up and swollen with the load churning inside them. “Beg me for it. You sound so pretty, Lucius. Tell me what you need.”
“Please, please, Daddy, please let me come,” Lucius babbles, clinging desperately, nails digging in light furrows where his hands slip on Sirius' sweaty skin. “I need it so bad, Daddy please! I've been good, waited so long, please let me come!”
“Merlin, there's no resisting a boy like you,” Sirius groans, affected more than he thought he could be. He'd wanted to drag it out more, wanted to tease and torment until Lucius cried and babbled senselessly. Honestly though? He's about to blow, too. He has no intentions of stopping with one round anyway. His hips pound into Lucius with reckless abandon, driving harder and faster toward that precipice like a rocketing phoenix in an inferno. Just before that spiral, before he erupts into flame and oblivion, he whips off Lucius' cockring and watches Lucius absolutely fly apart.
He's utterly stunning. He cries out in ecstasy at the apex of his pleasure, thighs shaking and flexing in Sirius' hands. His hole clamps down around the phallus drilling into him, and his back and neck arch at an almost impossible angle. Pearly semen spurts with surprising force and distance, rope after rope shooting all the way up his torso to the base of his throat in an impressive quantity.
Lucius goes limp, but his fluttering, clenching hole is all Sirius needs to achieve his own orgasm. It's the most intense orgasm he's ever had; it feels like his soul is being ripped from him through his dick but in the best of ways. He even blacks out, which has never happened, not even as a teen.
When he phases back into awareness, only minutes after, if that, he's slumped over Lucius, knees weak, fists barely braced on the bench on either side of him to keep from utterly crushing his lover. Lucius is completely limp, sweaty and gasping, but there's a blissful glow about him, even as his shoulders and head hang upside down off the edge of the padded seat. Sirius bends to lick some of the sweat and spunk pooled between pale pecs, cleaning it away from the amulet resting warm there. Lucius moans and twitches weakly, oversensitive, hands fluttering up to comb through Sirius' dark strands that have fallen free of their elastic.
Eventually, strength and feeling come back to his limbs, and he braces his feet, locking his knees to life himself up. Out of the corner of his eyes, just as he's acknowledging his parched throat, he sees a small table with a pitcher of ice water and two glasses appear. Curious. That reminds him of Hogwarts' Room of Requirement. Testing out the theory, he concentrates on a few items he'd like to use on Lucius. Moments later, they too appear on the little table. Sirius grins, pleased.
Leaning to the side, Sirius grabs the table and drags it closer carefully. He pours a glass of water and downs it quickly, then pours some into the other glass. Scooping carefully under Lucius' back, he tenderly pulls him up to sit, despite his adorable mewls of protest. “Come now, my dove, let's get some water into you,” he coos, pressing the glass to wrecked lips. He tips it, coaxing sips down the blond's throat until Lucius has enough presence to take the glass and finish it under his own power. “There's a good boy, my lovely.”
“How are you still hard?” Lucius asks, incredulous, as his sensitive pucker involuntarily clenches and becomes aware of the schlong still impaling it.
A wicked grin stretches his lips. “Because I have fantastic stamina,” he confesses, kissing Lucius' nose. “It will take me no less than three orgasms before I get soft.” Blue-gray eyes flash to find Lucius is almost completely soft, marks indenting where the cockring had been but fading. “And I don't mind if you're soft as long as I can still play with your gorgeous body.” He cups his hand around the softened penis, squeezing gently, fondling affectionately, releasing only when Lucius tries to close his thighs to ward him off, still too sensitive.
Sirius straightens and starts drawing out, reaching to the side for one of the items the room graciously provided. Lucius protests, scrabbling for Sirius' hips to try to keep him in, and he nearly wails when the fat head pops free. Before more than a drop or two can escape, Sirius presses the white crystal buttplug up into the gaping entrance, pressing until it's locked in place. He rubs a thumb over the base, which is stamped with the Black family insignia. It moves the tiniest bit as Lucius' body instinctively clenches on the new intrusion.
“How lovely,” Sirius praises, squeezing Lucius' asscheeks playfully, jiggling them so he squeaks when the plug caresses his used and abused insides.
“Why?” Lucius gasps, dazed. His silver eyes have gone a little hazy, slipping back into a mild subspace with the stimulation.
“I told you, my pretty dove,” he scoops the few drops that had dripped out with his finger and pushes them into Lucius' mouth, rubbing them clean on his tongue, “that I plan on fucking you until your belly is swollen with my cum.” Blue-grays watch silver flutter closed briefly as Lucius savors the flavor of his Dom's semen. He presses close, cuddling Lucius to his chest and kissing every bit of flesh he can. His cock pulses hot and insistent against Lucius' belly. “I can't do that if you're leaking, can I? We don't want to waste it, do we, baby?”
Lucius shakes his head, then dips in for a kiss. Sirius is happy to oblige. Unlike their previous, this one is slow and lazy, an almost tender melding of lips and tongue. They take their time, no longer in a rush for their first time or chasing an intensity they've craved apparently mutually for so long. Lucius is surprisingly clingy and cuddly, curled around what he can of his broader partner, and Sirius has no intentions of letting go.
“Did you mean it?” Lucius asks quietly when the kiss comes to its natural end. He seems shy now, and it's a little like whiplash when compared to his public persona.
“Did I mean what, lovely?” Sirius asks, hands soothingly moving up and down his lover's sides.
“Did you mean it when...when you said you wanted to stay forever?” Lucius replies, seemingly forcing the words out. Like he's afraid to hope. “That you want to keep me.”
Sirius feels his features soften with affection, and warmth not associated with lust or arousal wells in his chest. He leans in for a short, sweet kiss. “I have wanted you for a very long time, Lucius, longer than is likely healthy,” he admits gravely, voice quiet but sure. There is no trace of amusement or trademark mischief to detract from the sincerity in his voice. “All of my previous lovers, apart from my year-long relationship with Remus, have borne a resemblance to you in some way or another. I'm obsessed with you. Given the opportunity, I know I could fall in love with you, head over heels. If not for the gods' cursed marriage contract between you and my lovely cousin, I would demand a divorce between you and spirit you away.”
Silver eyes stare at him with a heartbreaking sheen of hope shining in their depths. He licks his lips, fingers flexing where they cling to Sirius' burly biceps. His legs tighten around where he's hooked them over Sirius' waist during their glorious little snog. “So we're not done after this,” he murmurs finally. “You would want to continue this, even after this night.”
“I very much want that,” Sirius agrees without a second's hesitation. “I could never be satisfied with just a taste of you. We clearly are very compatible in the bedroom. I would like a chance to see if we can function in a more personal relationship. Narcissa has already given her approval. She said she wants us both to be happy, just like she and Kalena are. My question is, what do you want? We have talked only about what I want, but what about you?”
“Whatever I can get. Whatever you will allow me to have.”
“Dove...surely there's more than that,” Sirius says, a little concerned with the stark reply. “Come on, sweet. Tell me what you want.” He lifts his hands to cup Lucius' face, rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks.
The blond's eyes drop from his, and he bites his lip. Pale, thin brows furrow in thought. He looks so vulnerable, unsure, and Sirius gets the distinct impression that his lover has never actually been asked what he wants. Not when it matters. Not where it counts. Controlled all his life, forced into the box his father wanted, extorted into unwilling subjugation to a man who had no care for him as an individual and only as a means to an end. From what he's seen, Lucius has only ever made sure Narcissa's needs are met in their marriage while his own desires take a back seat. Now that Sirius is asking, Lucius flounders uncertainly under his watchful gaze.
“I want you,” Lucius whispers, as if afraid he'll ruin his chances of it happening if he confesses too loudly. “I want your attention, your time, your...your dominance. I want you to take control and make decisions for me because I know you'll do it in my best interests or because you think it'll make me feel good. I want you to listen to what I want and need, even if I don't know exactly how to ask for it. I want you to be my partner as well as my—my Daddy.”
Something quivers inside Sirius. He can't believe what he's just heard. He had never dared to dream of such utter devotion, of such a heartfelt request from a beautiful Sub, let alone from Lucius. It had always seemed too much to ask, too farfetched, and Sirius had never felt like he deserved it after a few past transgressions he's still striving to pay and make up for.
But oh how he wants. Lucius is offering fulfillment of his deepest desires, nervous and so ready for rejection, with shaking hands, bitten lips, and shining hopeful eyes. Sirius wants nothing more than to accept and dig in with teeth and claws and never let go.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Sirius promises breathlessly, pressing closer and bringing Lucius' precious face for kisses across his cheeks and nose. “I'm all for it. I would like nothing more than all of that. Merlin, you're perfect for me, Lucius. How are you so bloody perfect, hm?” He pecks a rough yet playful kiss on his lips, causing Lucius to giggle involuntarily, his tense muscles relaxing. “You're mind for good, Lucius. No take-backs. Unless your lovely wife offs me.”
“She would never,” Lucius swears, smiling with relief and joy, soft with ease.
“Well I am her favorite cousin, so I would hope not, but you never know with women. They're unpredictable and ruthless, you know.” His eyes twinkle with humor, but they both know he's not entirely wrong.
“You're ridiculous,” Lucius mutters fondly, hands lifting to remove Sirius' hairband and run fingers through the messy black tresses, playing with the beads with interest.
“No no, I'm Sirius!” He practically chirps the age-old joke he's told a million times, grin bright and playful. It quickly turns lascivious, and he nips Lucius' plump lower lip. “But you can call me Daddy.”
“Yes Daddy,” Lucius replies breathlessly, pupils dilating. His thighs flex around Sirius' hips, and he tilts his head, baring his collared throat in a submissive gesture to his new official Dom.
Sirius dips his head and lays a careful, clean bite to the side of his neck that will bruise just as clearly as the hickeys already blooming across pale skin. It is an unmistakable claim, a declaration of ownership, and very much not the mark of a woman's daintier mouth. Against his abdomen and still-throbbing erection, he feels Lucius' cock twitch, hardening swiftly from the act of possessiveness.
“Now,” Sirius intones in a low voice as he pulls back from the blond's neck, eyeing the perfect indentations of his teeth, “I believe I promised to fuck you until you can't walk. I'm very much ready to resume. We have all night, after all.”
“Yes Daddy.”