A Romeo\'s Nemesis

Chapter 8
Bawling to Black and Completion
Standing, frigid now in her mould encrusted and generally soiled robes (which she was becoming more and more appalled at with
every second that ticked by), Narcissa couldn\'t help but notice the smell. With several irate sniffs, she could feel herself become overly frazzled for someone ready to beg for any remains of moral decency; her request wasn\'t all that ludicrous in entirety, she was, after all, still a Black no matter how much she detested one cousin who was presently the one living inhabitant of the gods forsaken hellhole. As the door slowly creaked open and practically unhinged itself with the effort, Narcissa keened with fury and seeing the portrait gallery on the far wall all covered and muted, obviously charmed with an irrefutable timer on them for eight hours... was he asleep? Expecting someone? Already with company?

Narcissa nearly gagged at her own inner display of concern and stepped into the dwelling imperiously before uncustomary toeing off her shoes and crossing her arms nervously. Unsure of what to do next as there was no one to physically greet her, Narcissa lazily sauntered over to the mantle where a picture of the Black Patriarchs had been taken what seemed like eons ago by their dress. Playfully regressing to her childhood (and with no one supervising), she scrunched up her face and none too delicately stuck out her tongue at the burly fops who immediately shuck their fists at her simultaneously while she gave a mildly tozzled giggle.

\"What in the history of magic are you doing here?\" Sirius barely whispered coming up from behind Narcissa, thoroughly creeping her out and causing the accumulated snot from her nose to tremble with the rest of her frame. Narcissa flipped around and plastered on her best battered wife routine while forcing her gullet to remain in its place.

Squeezing her eyes into the tiny slits that nearly always won her dominance with Lucius, she practically asphyxiated herself with the gasps and hiccups, the picture of childhood’s impudence.

Sirius grabbed her by the arm and flung her to the couch where he act temporarily faltered and she gawked up at him curiously before resorting to the foetal position to gain eminence. Sirius however, unlike Lucius, was not in any way bound to her and her wailings and smacked her briskly across the face with a startled scream to verify the frequency of the occurrence at home.

\"Answer me, you spoiled shit!\" Sirius bellowed, raking the mangled form that lay sprawled in front of him who was trembling more in shock than in pain. Narcissa quickly regained decorum and strove to follow plan B: the fucking truth.

\"Well, dearest cousin,\" she presented flatly, smoothing the frock on her lap beyond redemption, \"my husband has taken to bedding our son and while I may try to hamper his proceedings, he seems to be rather hell-bent on having his way.\"
Sirius merely stood there and quirkily, landed on the opposite sofa, his face bursting into maddened jubilance. Once mildly settled, Sirius considered Narcissa briefly before extricating his inner musings from their bonds.

\"And you want refuge then?\" Narcissa\'s jaw dropped and she visually winced at the nonchalant reaction she received from her frank declaration of sin in her own household.

Flustered and ready to lash out if it weren\'t for the matter of finding shelter, she stuttered, \"Please!\" and left it at that. Sirius seemed to ponder this as identically as he was turning over a piece of orange between his fingers, obviously eating in the kitchen before she arrived. While the silence imbued a sort of unseemly calm between them, Narcissa took the time to observe her outcasted cousin for a bit before she defiled him further in her mind. He was far more meatier than Lucius, that was clear; a man used to hard labour was he. Narcissa prattled around the recesses of her mind, screeching at the top of her mental lungs why that statement was wrong on so many levels. He was slightly shorter, but striking in the way his dark hair framed the grizzled, unkempt remains of a botched shaving job and Narcissa again mentally scolded herself for considering sidling on up next to the asshole and rubbing her own cheek against the gruff.

The night hadn\'t been as successful as planned, and she\'d realised before long that she could\'ve been as cumbersome and annoyingly deleterious as that Tonks woman Severus was going with and still not have turned any heads. Stupid little multi-colour-headed chit cost her one of the most reliable shags in over three years.

Whilst still inwardly griping, the usual diminutive scrawl of distaste becoming apparent on her sullen face, Sirius jabbed her in the shoulder form across the coffee table and she couldn\'t help but admire the sleek upper casings of the nightshirt he was wearing. He was rabbitting on about something that had to do with \"paying dues\" and \"obligations\" hardly worth the attention span of a gnat and Narcissa occasionally nodded her concurrence and grumbled derogatory comments, slightly sexual in nature, under her breath.

Without hearing his instructions at all, Narcissa rose to her feet and followed her reluctant host through to what she assumed was to be her room. She had only stayed at the place twice before when she was a girl, around thirteen, and could recall feeling distinctly out of place, even with the overpowering shadow of Sirius skulking around the halls as though he would rather be anywhere but there.

A demented camaraderie between them building, Narcissa sojourned in his chambers one night after swearing she could hear a Bogart at three thirty in the morning. She could remember the sleep ridden blue eyes and scraggly black mop that greeted her and barely a complaint as she wedged herself into his bed, wondering what was poking her in the back. Narcissa smiled at her recollection and decided that perhaps tonight was an appropriate time to regress and to prove, for her own peace of mind, that she was still somewhat desirable with all the attentions she\'d been bestowed with as of late.

\"Sirius,\" she mumbled before he was completely out the door. Sirius silently halted and waited, the outline of his ribcage heaving against the gossamer night shirt.

\"Sirius, does it not surprise you in the least that my own husband... his father could do such a thing?\" for once, Narcissa\'s voice didn\'t teem with the supplementary sweet tinklings of falsity and instead ushered an equally honest response.

\"To tell you the truth, no. I always thought he was completely capable of it. It was your fucked up decision to marry him and you bought the shit about pureblood relations...\" Sirius paused, placing his hand on the doorframe, stroking the pine absently with his
thumb, \"that is why you chose him wasn\'t it?\"

Narcissa could hardly breathe; did he want a full account of why she married the sick fuck she did; the banalities of life were so energy depleting at times that she often tossed them around her head like spare used tennis balls, not really good enough for a game, but satisfying in smashing against a thick cement wall of resentment.

\"I - I,\" Narcissa\'s face flushed red as she sunk down on the bed, as ratty and torn as she felt, \"I married him because he was primarily rich, famous and... and available. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?\"

Sirius shrugged, still facing the opposite direction resolutely, \"You\'re in my house, I\'d like to know how you came to be in it.\"
And with that, Sirius stalked out of the dimly lit, plushly lined cell to leave Narcissa to stew a bit more on her state of being.

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\"Look at me,\" Draco whispered as his father propped his bum upon a nearby pillow whilst nursing his flushed, albeit slightly diminutive erection with his laving tongue. Lucius’ eyes flicked up briefly and it was enough to see the slate depths reverberate all the degrees of confidence, passion and want that Draco needed to be affirmed with. Draco keened at the feel of his father\'s tongue, torturously exploring his velvet clad length reverently in pulling the peppermint stick firmly between his lips before releasing it to the room\'s frigid air by comparison.

When Draco opened his eyes, Lucius was hovering above him with the most avaricious smile known to man etched upon his shadowed face. Draco blushed and slowly spread his thighs apart on some intrinsic inkling and was rewarded by a lascivious growl and gentle smack to his vulnerable winking hole.

Draco groaned at the violently unexpected contact and muttered his encouragement, no matter how raspy with lust it echoed along the ornate panelling of the bed chambers. Lucius bent down lower to Draco\'s mouth and kissed him deeply once more, quickly prying his lips apart before Draco could sink his inexperienced yet strategically seeking claws into him. Checking for any last minute reticence, Lucius grasped Draco\'s hand and placed it on his turgidly demanding member.

Introducing a viciously slippery substance between their interlocked fingers, all the while boring into his son\'s soul, Lucius aided Draco in coating himself until he moved away to circle the virgin innocence he would soon be claiming. Breathing rather unsteadily for a man who was about to take on a teen, Lucius tentatively pressed the tip of his length against the boy\'s orifice and watched dumbly as Draco\'s arms and legs encircled his own taut back and waist until they were so closely intertwined, it was all Lucius could do to not swallow his permanent catamite. Again, a normally unbuttoned smile reeked from Lucius\' lips as he ran a lock of hair through his fingers and pressed more insistently before recieving a slight gasp and decrease of resistance. Draco hummed tunelessly at the mild invasion and jutted his fragile hips out in automatic glee while burying his face against Lucius\' clavicle.

Persistently slow, Lucius barred his own way past the tight, hot love canal that was his progeny and groaned in satisfaction once buried completely; he looked down at Draco\'s face to see a stunned, wide-eyed ten year old off to his first year of Hogwarts, trying to be brave and pragmatically pompous for the trip as he was a Malfoy, yet failing miserably.
Groaning slightly as the precious heat readjusted itself while he changed angles, he felt Draco shudder and watched the edges of his mouth turn upward in realization.

Lucius absently nuzzled the boy\'s face below him and began to push a bit further in before retreating part way and back again; Draco made the sound of a cat being skinned alive and Lucius\' head jutted back into his neck but was quickly relieved to see a very happy Draco grinning broadly with several tears of strain accumulated around his cheeks. Lucius bent down and whispered, \"All right then\" before ploughing onward.

\"Uggh - yes,\" Draco mewled before his body was raked with supernatural frissons of unearthly wanton desire, dying for the expulsion he\'d never denied himself so fervently in the shower.

\"Oh no, my sweet,\" Lucius breathed and plunged ferociously inside the cavern of delight, \"I want you to scream as you do when you kill yourself in Act V, love.\"

Draco rasped incoherently against the column of Lucius\' neck and nearly shrieked as both of them picked up the rhythm, sensing the other\'s need while deep rivulets of sweat flew off of their bodies and onto the black silken sheets.

Panting, Lucius, hiked Draco\'s calves over his shoulders and whinnied at Draco\'s rebuke-filled clenching action, causing him to involuntarily and prematurely shudder with barely enough time to catch himself, pressing against his balls protectively and looking daggers at his son. Draco smiled wickedly yet was quickly overcome by the need to be fucked steadily as Lucius withdrew and remained immobile for a few minutes.

Loosing his self-imposed repose, Draco whined and cried out at the top of his pretty little rich boy voice, \"Oooh, Daddy, make me take it!\" And with that, Lucius could take no more and pummelled his son with all the sternness and mandatory precision a father should implement in the upbringing of one particularly raucous little brat; watching appreciatively as his partner exploded beneath his hand and actually cried out as he came fluidly, still pumping in and out as the last remains of his orgasm swept through him.

Draco immediately fell asleep and Lucius nearly chuckled at the trite irony of it all, of everything that had inevitably conspired between them in the last few days and reminded himself he had a few errands of his own to run on the morrow. Happy he would be to accomplish them solo, but not all together put out with a little blonde company.

Leering at his sleeping possession, now fully conquered and his for the rest of his life as far he was concerned, Lucius rolled behind his boy and closed his eyes, whispering, \"Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast. / Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.\"