Muggle Ministry Relations (or Lucius Gets Fucked)

Chapter two

Author\'s note - all same spoiler, rating, pairing tags apply, although there is mention of Molly and Snape. *shrugs*

chapter summary - Yeah, Arthur and Lucius have feelings for each other, but they got a lot

to work through - naturally!

warnings - there is some het at the very beginning (a little smidgeon) and also a little *GASP* Snape thrown in - for good measure. *laughs*

That said, enjoy!




Arthur reclines back on the lumpy bed, wearing only boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt, not pondering the reason why Lucius Malfoy hasn’t spoken more than two words to him in as much as a week or why his wife keeps giving him strange glances, but instead, focusing rather intently on the Game Boy (the twins deduced this is what its called in muggle world) and ignoring the strange longing in his soul. Yeah, he dearly misses Lucius and would love very much to speak with him, but alas, there are more pressing matters – like why Molly keeps staring at him like he has a second head.

“Yes dear?” He inquires, not glancing up from level five, thumbs aching but seemingly possessed by the need to win.

“Oh, nothing really…” She speaks in a distracted voice, very softly, as if trying not to wake him.

“Then why do you keep looking at me?” Arthur prods, actually somewhat curious as to what her response might be. Could he need a shave?

She hesitates before resting a gentle hand on his bare shoulder, patting and rubbing as if smoothing the freckles.
“I don’t know, dear. Are you quite well?”

Finally, he tears his gaze away from the game. “Beg pardon?”

She shrugs, still patting, smoothing, rubbing. “Are you feeling well, dear? You seem …off colour.”

Arthur smirks and turns his attention back to the game. “I’m rather well, actually. Thanks.”

Now, Molly Weasley snatches the game from her husband’s fingers and glares at him.

“Where did you get this…this…contraption?”

Arthur shrugs, hoping not to blush. “Oh…um…some ministry thing. It was found by some kids, and I was the lucky wizard sent to investigate…”

“Don’t you bloody lie to me, Arthur Weasley, I know deception when I see it – and furthermore…”

“Oh, Molly…” Arthur hates when she gets started, but there’s really nothing more to do than to let her have her say. Otherwise she’ll be making his life hell the weeklong…and possibly beyond.

While she vents, however, Arthur lets his mind wander back to his encounter with Lucius, the soft velvet of his skin, the fullness of all that platinum blond hair, spilling everywhere, his naked torso, so long and pale, his voice, his clear eyes, glaring into his heart – and that tortured soul, shining through that rough exterior, betraying the cold façade… Arthur could almost swear he saw something more than contempt in those blue eyes… something almost real.

And Arthur can’t forget the sex. Merlin, who forget something like that? The almost painful tightness that comes from being enveloped in something so small and sweet, the blind fury of fucking seemingly for your life, the soft moans and whimpers of another man – a hot sexy man, a beautiful man like Lucius Malfoy… Arthur thinks he could get an erection just thinking about it.

“- And what the bloody hell are you smiling about!?” Molly’s voice cuts into his thoughts like a rusty nail, and Arthur wipes the grin off his face.

“Oh. I’m sorry dear.” He says quietly, feigning guilt.

“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? Or are you too busy thinking about your blasted muggle trinket!?” And with that, she tosses the thing against the wall where it breaks upon impact, cracking the little screen.

Arthur gapes at her, too horrified for words.

“Oh dear…” she says with faux remorse. “…Have I broken it?”

Arthur slides out of bed and goes to where it sits on the floor, damaged and silent, no longer playing the cute little melody of addictive game play.

“How could you?” He inquires, not looking up at her. “It was a harmless piece of muggle machinery, built only to bring joy into the lives of others – not incite riots.”

Molly throws up her arms in exasperation. “You need to sort out your priorities, Arthur Weasley. Perhaps you spend too much time in muggle dealings. I think you need to take a leave from the ministry!”

He glances up at her, thunderstruck. “I could never do that. I’m needed at the ministry.”

She snorts. “Oh, sure, Arthur, needed as a kicking post for Lucius Malfoy maybe.”

Ouch. Arthur turns to her, wishing she would never mention his name and torn between wanting to defend him but not wanting to land himself in the dog house, indefinitely. Besides, what would he say? ‘Well, honey, yeah, Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater and a pretty rotten wizard, but he gives terrific head. No lie!’

“Ah, sweetums, you’re absolutely right.” He smiles broadly and goes to where his wife is gaping at him, baffled. “Perhaps I should put in for a nice vacation from the office. I could sure use more time with you and the boys. No telling what kind of mischief they get into when I’m not readily available – during the holiday and all…”

Molly isn’t sure how to respond, but crosses her arms in defiance, searching her brain for some other topic to debate. Truth is, she loves to yell and hates when she wins easy battles. Arthur never usually succumbs so quickly. In fact, she doesn’t remember the last time they’ve had a row at all.

Currently, though, he is climbing up the bed, grinning at her, folding her in his warm arms and nuzzling her neck, something she loves – but there is a sense of detachment about him, a wall between them. She can’t put her finger on it, but its there, and it doesn’t make her feel any better when he starts to unbutton her bodice, almost in a perfunctory way – as if this is his duty – but she doesn’t dare protest, for if she did, that would suggest some abnormality on her own part – and she doesn’t wish for him to know that she knows anything is different. Even though, she can sense that it undoubtedly is. Something has most certainly changed, and she won’t rest ‘til she finds out what. For now, though, she simply goes along with this clumsy seduction and prays it’s just a mid-life crisis.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Malfoy manor is ridiculously large. In fact, it takes up a rather formidable section of upper crust wizard township, and Lucius is sitting in his office, pretending to be busy, lest he be bothered with griping Narcissa and her constant need for more.
When she comes into the room, Lucius can’t help but to glance up at her slender elegant frame, long, flowing blond hair swept up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, chilling glare in her blue eyes, thin nose, constantly turned upward and a down-turned mouth, a morph between a half-sneer and a grimace. If she weren’t such a bitch, she’d be amazingly beautiful, Lucius deduces as she comes closer, carrying a handbag made of the finest silks and undoubted filled with several thousand galleons worth in cheques.

“I’m sending for Draco.” She simply says. “I’m lonely and I need someone to take shopping.”

Lucius furrows his eyebrows. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Why pull him from school?”

She snorts. “Because I’m bored, and you do nothing in the way of entertaining me.”

“I don’t have time for entertaining – and what do you expect me to do? Stand on my head? I should say not. Get one of the house elves to go with you.”

“I don’t like the elves…” she makes a face. “…they make my skin crawl.”

Lucius wishes she would leave. “Well, do what you want. I’m busy.”

“Why can’t I send for him? It’s nearly holiday.”

“Do what you will.” He sounds exasperated. “I don’t care.”

She continues to stand in the center of the room, regarding him. “Where are your thoughts, my husband?”

It is delivered in such a soft voice; Lucius snaps his head up to look at her. “What did you say?”

She comes closer, narrowing twighlight blue eyes at him. “You seem…distracted. Have you been in contact with the dark lord?”

He feels suffocated with her here. “No. I haven’t and I resent your asking.” After a brief silence, he glares at her. “I need space, Narcissa. Leave me in peace. Go shopping, go send for Draco, join the bloody Hogsmead circus for all I care – just LEAVE me with my thoughts. Now or I shall send you away.”

For just an instant, she hesitates, as if she might challenge him, but instead she half grins, pivots and exits the room. Lucius watches her go and within moments, he hears the loud crack of her Apparating. Good riddance! He thinks as he slumps in his chair. Now, he is free with his thoughts, free to think of his own internal struggles…free to think of Arthur.
He can’t honestly say that Arthur is the man of his dreams, the hottest, sexiest wizard he has ever laid eyes on, no. But, it’s so much more than that, this strange need to want to please him, to see him smile, to feel his warmth and love. He has never known that with another partner…not even with the mother of his child – and he regrets that.

With Arthur, it’s a deep and intricate matter of great complexity. When he is near Arthur or when he thinks of Arthur, its as if he can hear ice shattering around his heart, melting him in ways he has never known, slipping through his defenses – and he likes not knowing where it will lead, but he HATES having to hide it, and worse than that, he hates hiding it from Arthur. He has never been direct with matters like this, and he isn’t sure how to start now. It would seem…unnatural.

The soft knock on his office door startles him and he furrows his eyebrows in irrational anger at having been disturbed.

“What?!” He shouts, and a moment later, a wrinkled, terrified little house elf pushes open the huge oak door and peers into the threshold.

“S-sir…Mr. Malfoy,” the house elf is absolutely beside himself with fear. “…a P-Professor S-S-Severus S-Snape to s-s-s-see you.”

Malfoy closes his eyes briefly, for strength, before opening them again and sitting up straighter in his high-backed chair.

“Send him in, you blithering twit.”

The elf bows low, as if thankful to be dismissed. “Y-yes s-sir.”

A moment later, Snape sweeps mysteriously into the room, black traveling cloak grazing the floor. He stands in the center of the room, facing Malfoy as the door shuts with a click behind him. For several seconds, both men stare back and forth at one another as Lucius finally decides to look away.

“Are you quite well?” He asks Snape, fraternally.

“Rather well, indeed.” Snape replies in his sonorous voice, black eyes focused on the other man. “Yourself?”

Lucius musters a small grin. “Oh. I’m fine. I wasn’t expecting you, but I am happily surprised.”

“Good.” Snape says, emotionless. “I wouldn’t want to…impose.”

Now Lucius meets his gaze again, hiding nothing, wishing for Snape to see into his thoughts. Incidentally, though, Snape stays firmly within his own boundaries, hands at his sides, expressive fingers flexing absently.

“Ah…could this be considered a social call? Or…is there business to discuss?”

Snape looks almost pained before replying slowly. “Currently, no, there is no…business.” By business, both men are referring to the dark lord, and both men are happy there is nothing new on this front as neither likes actually dealing with him – only carrying out whatever plans may be implemented and such.

At this, Lucius slides back his chair and stands, pushing his hair over one shoulder and approaching the Potions Master. They stand inches apart, regarding one another, comfortable and not comfortable, companionable and yet not. Not exactly. Both men are cold and closed off, but somehow, they always meet in the middle to form their uncertain bond.

“How is Hogwarts?” Lucius asks offhandedly, taking Snape rather off guard.

“It’s…fine. Why do you ask?” Snape is suddenly suspicious of the other man’s motives. Lucius never asks about Hogwarts.

Lucius shrugs, mind drifting suddenly to Arthur and the fact that he has five children there. “Oh. No reason. Is Draco well?”

Now Snape is very very suspicious. Lucius never inquires about Draco. “I believe so. Yes.”

Lucius nods. “Good. Glad to hear it. And what about you, Severus?”

Now, Snape exhales. “Is there…something you wish to ask me, Malfoy?”

Lucius shrugs. “Um. No. Not at all.”

With that, Lucius comes forward and pulls Snape to him, crushing his lips to the other man’s. At first Snape doesn’t respond, then parts his mouth and twines his fingers into the long pale hair, tugging gently. They embrace like this for several seconds, making out until Snape pushes Lucius away, putting several feet between them.

“There’s… something else.” He says, face slightly flushed, lips bruised.

Lucius shakes his head. “No, Severus, nothing else.”

“There’s a change in you.”

Lucius grimaces, shutting his eyes. “Merlin, Snape, you’re here ten minutes and already you’re accusing me! You’re worse than Narcissa!”

“You’re hiding something.” Snape says in his cold sardonic voice.

“Are you going to fuck me or not? If not, then you can Diaapparate the hell out of here, just the way you came!”

Snape fixes an indifferent expression on his face, straightens his robe, smoothes his hair and turns to leave when Malfoy stops him.

“Wait. Snape. I…” he pauses, waiting for Snape to face him again. “…I’m out of sorts. Don’t leave. Come to me, please.”

After what seems like an eternity, Snape takes a step closer and stops. Lucius comes to him and wraps his arms around the cold, stoic wizard, dragging fingers through his black hair. His lips brush against the half-inch or so of Snape’s exposed neck.

“We behave as if we don’t have secrets, but…we all have secrets, Severus…even me.Especially me…”

Snape allows this, allows Lucius to coax him as he does in that soft voice, heat caressing his cold skin. Eventually, he brings his hands up to slide through the endless locks of platinum blond hair, pushing Lucius back until they are against the wall, and Snape has the other wizard where he wants him.

His mouth claims Lucius’, desperately, tongue probing deep, teeth crashing and then Snape pulls back long enough to capture his chin, forcing the clear blue eyes to meet his. Black eyes burrow deep, past pale irises and dark pupils and deep into the tangled thoughts Lucius no longer hides from him…the ones he doesn’t place into his pensieve…Lucius vulnerable and out of sorts, Lucius naked from the waist down, Lucius moaning in agony, Lucius getting fucked by…by…no. Arthur Weasley? Snape pulls himself out of those thoughts so fast, it gives them both a headache, and Lucius actually feels a strong wave of nausea…

“What the hell was that?” Snape asks in a quiet deadly voice. “Are these real memories?”

Lucius doesn’t bother to reply. Snape knows he isn’t capable of falsifying his own memories…he’s far too lazy for that. Instead, he rests his hands against Snape’s broad chest, massaging the pecs beneath layers and layers of heavy black fabric.

“Answer me, you insolent prat!” Snape demands, slapping Lucius’ hands away and Lucius sighs.

“Yes, Snape, it’s real. It happened…I had sex with Arthur Weasley…” His lips quirk upward at the corners. “…you’re the only person who knows, and let me just say – it was incredible.”

Without warning, Snape raises his hand and cracks Lucius hard across the face, hard enough to draw blood from the corner of his mouth. His head actually snaps to the side, flinging his white hair into his eyes.

Laughing sardonically, Lucius grins. “I like when you manhandle me, Snape. Tell me, does it bother you more that I fucked or that I didn’t fuck you?”

Now, Snape forces Lucius against the wall and glares daggers at him. “I’ll damn well show you what bothers me…if you can handle it…”

“Oh, I can handle it, Snape…you know I can…”

With one swipe, Severus snatches Lucius’ robe apart, exposing his pale hard chest, heaving with excitement.
“Callow, detestable, loathsome, platinum git…” Snape is digging teeth into Lucius skin as he cries out.

“Ughn… Snape…” Lucius moves his hips against Snape’s, desperate to feel but coming up short every time, nowhere near close to feeling what he would if he were with Arthur – instead, wallowing in blind fury, feeding off his hatred of Snape and Snape’s hatred of him, a horrible twisted marriage of convenience almost like that of which he has with his wife.

Snape’s hands are marring his pale chest, squeezing hard the pale nipples, making Lucius wince in pain, arching against the black robes.

“Grab my cock, you greasy son-of-a-bitch!” Lucius barks, “Don’t make me wait!”

“Patience, my dear…” Snape gyrates his pelvis slowly against Lucius. “…You get nothing for being the deceptive little beast you’ve been…lucky I’m granting you this much…”

Lucius shuts his eyes, licking his lips and waiting for Snape – whatever he’s willing to deliver, whatever he’s planning on doing with those large talented hands. Merlin, how long can he wait? And why, after all this tangled mess he goes through with Severus, should he feel so empty and longing…not even for sex, really, but for love…

Finally, Snape’s hand reaches beneath the barrier of Lucius’ pants and grabs his erect prick in a tight fist. Lucius cries out, and Snape is relentless, tugging it brutally and milking the orgasm violently from Lucius as his groans reverberate off the walls.

“Merlin…Snape…Ahh…God…”

When Lucius is completely flaccid, Snape tucks him back into his pants and moves away from him, spelling his hands clean. Malfoy shuts his eyes tight and gets his breathing in order before he speaks in a whispery breath.

“Take out your prick, Snape. I want to eat it.”

Snape glares at Malfoy and shakes his head, as if disgusted. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

Lucius opens his eyes to glare at Snape. “I don’t care what you want, Severus. You belong to me.”

Snape smirks, twisting his lips horribly. “That might’ve worked in the past, Lucius, but I assure you, we’ve moved beyond that.”

Moving towards, Snape, Lucius ignores the other wizard’s protests and starts to reach for Snape’s robes, but Snape shoves the blond against the wall with so much force, it knocks the wind out of him simultaneously palming his wand, as if in warning.

With a grin, Lucius ignores the physical and emotional pain of not being wanted. “Severus…”

“I said don’t touch me, Lucius or you will regret it. I’ll hurt you, and I won’t hold back. You know I won’t.”

Lucius stands there, wounded, as Snape straightens himself, and Lucius is torn between wanting to run over there and plead with Snape to fuck him or to simply let him go. Deep down, he knows this isn’t what he needs. He doesn’t know what he needs.

“This isn’t the end of this.” Lucius says in a feeble voice as Snape starts for the door.

At the threshold, he turns to grin at the other wizard. “No, I suppose not.”

Lucius watches as Snape exits and winces in pain when the loud crack comes from Snape Disapparating. He then opens his eyes, spells away his bruises and scratches and repairs the torn robes. Before Narcissa returns, he is cleaned and sitting in the same place she left him but now she is in a good mood, having been shopping for several hours. She doesn’t even notice that there’s nothing on his desk but a roll of blank parchment. And anyway, what difference would it make to her?

The next few days at the office, Lucius comes in quietly and goes straight to his office. Technically, he doesn’t actually do anything. He comes in and sits at his desk, gets showered with praise by Fudge off and on for several hours and goes home again. Today, though, he goes in and strides straight in to Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department and finds Arthur Weasley slouched behind a huge stack of books and papers, playing the little game he gave him.

Lucius smiles before clearing his throat, nearly scaring the poor redhead to death.
“Keeping busy?” He asks in a silky, deceptively evil voice.

“Lucius.” Arthur picks the game up and places it on what little space there is left on the desk. “Hello.”

“I need to speak with you – someplace…uh…not so public.”

Arthur nods. “Sure. Of course. But where?”

“Follow me and try not to look too comfortable in my presence.” He says in a low voice. “We wouldn’t want anyone to grow…suspicious.”

Arthur nods and follows Lucius into the corridor and down the hall to where they Apparated from nearly two weeks ago. Once the door is shut, Lucius closes his eyes for strength, unsure how to proceed. When he turns to look at Arthur, he notices the redhead is wearing an expression of concern.

“Yes? What is it, Lucius?”

The blond closes his eyes again, then opens them, chewing his lip. “I…don’t know what to say. I wanted to talk to you before now, but…”

“It’s alright, really. I haven’t been sure what to say either, but…”

“Truth is, Arthur…I’ve been…well…I have thought of…you.”

Arthur looks happily surprised. “You have?”

Lucius nods his blond head. “Well. Yes. Of course. I’ve been hoping we could…perhaps…”

“Right, well…that’s the thing, Lucius, see Molly was getting wise, I think – and she noticed my game the other day and tossed the bloody thing against the wall – and I spent the entire night trying to fix it and…well…anyway…the thing is… I think she has inkling…and…I wanted to see you, but quite frankly…”

“What?” Malfoy asks, softly.

“Well, quite frankly, Lucius, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, so I chalked it up as a loss.”

Lucius looks disappointed. “Well…not a loss, exactly…it was me simply needing time…”

Arthur nods, slowly. “Right.”

Lucius feels his heart breaking as he stands there at a loss for words. A heart he didn’t even know he had prior to his encounter with Arthur. After dealing with this turbulent storm of emotions raging inside of him and the rubbish with Snape and his ridiculously oblivious wife, Lucius feels empty of fight, as if he could simply melt into the floor and seep into the pipes.

Arthur, an intuitive wizard, especially after having been married so long and raising seven children can sense the ache and discontent inside of Lucius and approaches him cautiously.

“Are you alright?”

Lucius swallows and musters a good-natured smile. “Yes. Thank you.”

Arthur isn’t buying it. “I don’t believe you.”

Lucius shuts his eyes and says very softly but with slight contempt. “Merlin, Weasley…what do you know about it?”

Arthur comes even closer and folds the other man into his arms, holding him close, and Lucius rests his head involuntarily against his shoulder. There is only the sound of breathing as Lucius wraps his arms around the other man, taking in the clean, warm scent of eight other Weasleys, hearth and home. His jacket almost smells like oatmeal, and Lucius loves how foreign it all feels, how odd it feels to not be afraid.

“I want to go someplace.” Lucius finally murmurs against the soft freckled neck.

Arthur stiffens, wary of such an idea. “You mean leave work? Right now?” Without disentangling himself from Lucius, he glances at his watch. “But we still have at least three more hours...”

Lucius pulls back to look into the other man’s eyes. “I really want to leave. I want to spend time with you alone – and I don’t give a damn about three more hours.”

Arthur smiles at his lover’s defiance. “Perhaps we could spend time after work. I was working on a terribly important artifact…one found in the deepest muggle desert…”

“I want to make love with you Arthur.”

Arthur clears his throat. “As I was saying, I’m sure we could finish any loose ends tomorrow…It’s nothing terribly important afterall – and I certainly wouldn’t want to overwork myself…”

“Good.” Lucius grins, devilishly. “It’s settled then.”

Arthur snuggles into the embrace, smiling at the blond. “Where shall we go, then?”

Without words, Lucius glances at the Portkey on the table, and Arthur quickly gets the idea.


Within moments, they are standing inside the muggle flat, this time, wearing their wizard robes. Arthur glances shyly at Lucius who comes near and drags his nails lightly through Arthur’s short red hair. Arthur shivers and smirks, dimples deepening his face.

“That’s nice.” He says to the blond wizard, shutting his eyes. “I suppose next you’ll want me to bludgeon your nipples.”

Lucius snorts a laugh. “Good one, Weasley.” He lets his hands slide from Arthur’s scalp and down to his shoulders where he pulls him so close, their lips are barely an inch apart. “Actually no. No bludgeoning of nipples. I want something different this time. Something you may not like.”

Arthur quirks an eyebrow. “Hm. I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

Lucius keeps a straight face, but stares intently into Arthur’s eyes. “I want you to make love to me as if I were your wife.”

Arthur feels a weird tightening in his soul. Yes, he must admit, it’s a strange request. “Like I would my wife?”

“Yes.” Lucius says, removing his outer robe. “I would assume you do it to her slowly, gently, lovingly…that’s what I want, Arthur. No games and no roughness. I want you to make love to me – as if you really loved me.”

Now Arthur reaches up to cup Lucius’ face in his warm palm, stroking the cheek with his thumb. “But Lucius, how do you know I don’t?”

Lucius averts his eyes and sheds his robe. He doesn’t even stop to consider what the words might mean. Years ago when he was still a boy, he learned that you can never trust what seems real. Especially in a world where magic and illusion is a normal way of life.

Arthur comes close and begins to unbutton Lucius’ long dark velvety coat and vest and then he begins on the buttons until the pale chest is visible to him and the pink nipples stand out erect. Instead of tugging them or biting them or hurting them, he simply bends his head to kiss them, each in turn, letting the tip of his tongue come out to lick them gently. Lucius holds onto Arthur’s head, caressing the scalp, breathing unevenly. It’s so gentle that it almost tickles – but mostly, it feels amazing.

After thoroughly laving each nipple, Arthur stands, face to face with Lucius and presses his mouth to his, gently, kissing him as if he were his first, a tentative, teenage kiss. Lucius’ hair curtains their faces as they hide together inside it and peck each other repeatedly, time after time until Lucius cups Arthur’s face and deepens it, parting his mouth for Arthur and splitting Arthur’s mouth with his tongue.

Arthur takes the lead and begins to suck Lucius’ tongue, suckling it as if it were candy, and Lucius starts to remove Arthur’s robe and top until his freckled torso is completely exposed, and Lucius smiles fondly, tracing a line from each freckle to the next.
“I shall memorize each one of these, Weasley, as if they were stars in the sky.”

Completely shocked by such a bold and open statement, Arthur blushes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, I think.”

Lucius half-smiles, as he leans forward and licks each of Arthur’s nipples, swirling them lazily with his tongue while resting his hands on Arthur’s waist. Arthur, for his part, buries his fingers in Lucius’ endless flowing hair, playing in it, twirling it around his fingers, letting it slide across his hands like Ivory silk.

When Lucius faces Arthur again, he grins. “Like my hair, do you?”

Arthur nods. “Yes, very much.” He glances around the room. “I hate to break the mood, but what if the muggles return?”

Lucius waves a dismissing hand. “There won’t be any muggles. This house is empty. Its been planted here by the ministry, to better spy on muggles.”

Arthur understands. “Ah… but what about the old lady? She thought we were…”

Lucius shrugs. “That woman was demented…” He makes a pained face. “…Now, are we going to talk about the muggles all evening or…”

“Oh.” Arthur grins. “Sorry about that. I just…got off track…do you think we could…find the bedroom?”

Lucius nods. “Yes. Of course. Lets.”
Lucius walks ahead of Arthur, but when they get to the threshold, Arthur pulls him into an embrace and kisses him passionately, standing in the hallway. Lucius holds on tight as they rock together, side to side, almost swaying – or dancing, and Lucius feels himself swell with emotion with every beat of Arthur’s heart.

“Merlin…” he whispers in a raspy breath as Arthur kisses his tear stained cheek. “…what am I doing?”

Arthur licks away the tears. “Letting yourself feel.”

The hall is dark and Lucius presses himself into Arthur, feeling the beginnings of pure arousal stir at the apex of his thighs. Something about this closeness and intimacy has that effect on him. Who knew?

“Want you so badly…need this, Arthur…”

“I know, dear.” Arthur whispers, backing Lucius into the bedroom. “I know.”

When they get to the bed, Arthur lowers Lucius down and kisses his tummy and up his chest until he gets to his neck and sucks on the soft flesh there where shoulder meets throat. “Oh…Arthur…”

“Yes…” Arthur murmurs against the angular jaw. “…you’re so beautiful, Lucius…”

Lucius reaches down to unbutton Arthur’s slacks, caressing his hand over the hard outline of his erection.

“You feel incredible, Arthur…” Lucius whispers. “…I want to feel you…inside me…”

Arthur chuckles softly. “Soon enough…just wait…a little longer…not done appreciating you…”

Lucius laughs. “I don’t know what I was getting myself into, then…”

Arthur nips his ear, lightly. “Not hardly.”

Soon, though, Lucius has his hand snaked inside Arthur’s boxers, fondling him gently, tickling along the shaft with light touches and caresses. Arthur smiles into Lucius’ hair, drowning in the clean scent of it and the silkiness of it. But soon, Arthur is moving lower on the bed, forcing Lucius to release his light grip on that granite-hard cock in his pants.

Lucius watches as Arthur slides down his body, planting butterfly kisses along his torso and down his belly and lower, tugging down those dark slacks over slender hips until Lucius is naked beneath him and so painfully erect that it makes Arthur’s mouth water looking at him.

Having never performed oral sex on another man, Arthur worries he may not have the skill needed, but he keeps in mind that he is not taking a test, not competing, not trying to prove anything – simply making love. Suddenly, the pieces start to fit into place.

Arthur’s lips brush Lucius’ cock and those pale hips rise off the bed before Arthur rests gentle but firm hands on those slim flanks to keep Lucius in place. Then, he’s kissing the shaft lightly, up and down it, along the dark pink veins and to the head where the tip is leaking.

“Weasley…” Lucius moans. “…God…”

Arthur then takes the head into his mouth and suckles it gently, licking the slit and all around the tip as Lucius drapes his arm over his eyes, mouth parted and panting quietly. Arthur’s tongue is lavishing that lovely cock with attention, paying homage to it, honoring it, showering it with love and affection as Lucius starts to move his hips a little. Finally, Arthur is letting it slide deep into his mouth, lowering his head on it and taking it as far back as it’ll go – until he can take no more, then pulling out again, over and over until Lucius is groaning and burying his hands in Arthur’s hair.

“I’m so close, Arthur…” Lucius is moaning. “…so close…so close…I’m going to…”

Arthur heeds the warning but continues to suck, deep and shallow, reaching up to slide a wet finger into Lucius’ entrance, making the dark wizard shudder beneath him and spill his milky essence down Arthur’s throat. And Arthur takes it all, milking the bittersweet climax until Lucius is clawing his shoulders.

When Lucius goes flaccid in his mouth, Arthur releases him and climbs up the bed, resting next to him and tracing fingers across his orgasm sensitive body, watching the little chill bumps rise up along his skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Lucius.” Arthur says quietly. “The most beautiful creature I have ever come across.”

Lucius reaches over and kisses him deeply, tasting his seed, before pulling back and regarding him. “Now, come here, you.”

Arthur does as told, shedding his pants completely and resting between Lucius’ spread thighs. His erection is so hard, its tender and swollen. They lay there, face to face, staring into each others eyes before Arthur gets self-conscious.

“Am I too heavy?” He raises himself up on elbows. “I’ll move…”

“No.” Lucius protests, holding Arthur where he is. “Nonsense. You’re fine! Don’t you dare move.”

There is only a small trace of the evil wizard he used to be in his voice, and Arthur smiles slowly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Lucius.”

“And you won’t.” He says. “Accio…” and a small bottle of oil comes to land in his outstretched hand. As Arthur shifts upward a bit, Lucius coats his cock with the oil and pours some onto himself, rubbing it into his cleft and further down, motioning for Arthur to lie back down on top of him.

With the bottle discarded, and Arthur lying between his legs, Lucius feels absolutely needy for him and tells him so.

“Now, Arthur.” He whispers, kissing the man’s lips. “Do it now.”

Arthur positions himself and sinks down slowly into Lucius, adjusting, again, to the tight walls of his ass wrapped around his sensitive prick. His eyes shut as he begins to rock in and out at a careful pace, loving the feel of the man beneath him, adoring the sight of the pale, sweat-soaked hair sticking to his face as he rides him steadily, losing himself in the heat and eroticism of fucking so slowly and so cautiously, mindful of the fragile emotions involved and also, very much aware that he, himself, may be falling in love.

“Oh, Merlin, that’s so good, Lucius…too good…”

Lucius is panting, wrapping his legs around the other man, meeting each thrust, measure for measure. “Oh, Weasley…Oh yes…don’t stop…deeper, please…”

Arthur slides in further, using his knees for leverage and nudging that sweet spot inside of Lucius, making him cry out. Between them, his prick has already started to harden again and it is getting more engorged by the moment, a direct result of the friction between their bellies.

“Lucius…” Arthur fucks that asshole so gently, it’s excruciatingly good, and when he finally comes, what seems like an eternity later, it takes over his entire being, starting in his cock and spreading to all his nerve endings, lighting him on fire as he spills his hot come inside the other man. “…Lucius…Oh yes…Oh God…”

Arthur feels his belly coat with warm wetness a moment later and realizes that Lucius is panting and groaning as well, his body trembling beneath him. And they stay this way, glued together, bodies joined, for several minutes, enjoying the heat, staying enveloped in it.

Finally, Arthur rolls off Lucius and kisses his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him, uncaring of the sweat mingled with come that coats their bodies. Apparently, Lucius doesn’t care either because he sinks into the embrace, latching onto Arthur’s mouth with his own.

When they part, both men chuckle softly. “Arthur, I think I love… doing that with you…”

Arthur nods, eyes already slipping shut, positioning himself so his stomach is pressed against Lucius’ back, lips grazing his neck as he speaks. “Yes…I think I feel the same way.”

And they drift off towards their first untroubled sleep in a very long while, arms tight round each other, neither man voicing the unspoken truth that cocoons them in this predicament together, that they’re both undeniably, tragically in love.