The Farmer\'s Market

AN: as always, the characters are not mine... blame stellamaru and floraheart for this. I got a bunny and I\'m sorry :(
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They met, as they were wont to meet, at the Farmer’s Market. It was the contrast, that appealed to the older man, the sharp angles which he was used to, as opposed to the bounteous curves of this blonde cherub. For the younger, it was the sense of wealth and dignity of the older man, the calm complacency of his contemplation of the wares on offer – as his father’s son, he sidled up as close to wealth as he could get.

At first it was a glance across the aisles, a glimpse between the tattered stalls. Lucius loved this time of the morning – no one would have believed that the indolent Malfoys would rise before noon, or stoop to attending a simple muggle vegetable market in the middle of Surrey’sh csh countryside themselves. It pleased him to note this, to believe that he was pulling one over on the wizard world. The scent of the fresh produce, the earth and the sun falling off them, ripe as a whimpering virgin beneath his touch. The sexual had always appealed to Lucius.

Dudley first noticed the older man as he was caressing a watermelon. The way that the translucent hands shone through the sun’s rays, the glint of untarnished silver on his fingers, the way that the cornsilk hair created a waterfall of sunlight, a halo, as he bent forward to question the stallholder. The sly grin on his face when flicked his eyes up and noticed the young boy staring at him mouth agape.

From that day forward Petunia was shocked by the change in her son. He became an early riser, a model son, always willing to attend the early morning markets in order to help his mother. If he always dressed in his finest clothes, always took extra care in smoothing down his mousy-blonde hair, what of it? She believed in pride of appearance, and hence there was nothing to criticise. Maybe he had even found a young country lass there. The thought made her smile – not good enough for company perhaps, but her Dudley was a growing boy. He seemed to be blooming, out of that Potter’s influence.

Lucius lent casually against a stall, grey slits observing the surrounds under hooded eyes. He pondered why he expended such effort on his attire prior to these early morning meetings, but put it down to yet another of the Malfoy credos on dress sense. And the cherub – where was that corpulent bundle of shy, quaking child today? He hoped that he had not come in vain.

His mind wandered onto the contrast between Narcissa and the boy. Even as a young man Lucius had found little of appeal in the Black daughter, her sharp protrusions and angular features had definitely helped the Malfoy line keep its characteristic grace, but to be perfectly honest with himself, his son looked like a ferret. In truth, when he realised that Barty Crouch had fully realised his son’s potential in this regard, he had to repair to his study, and bite hard on his fist to prevent his cackles of laughter reaching the houselves and hence Narcissa. He would hate to have to go through the expense of a messy divorce. The scandal with Pettigrew at his stag night had been a close enough call.

Dudley was meandering down the isthe the shabby pathway overrun with vegetable wares, but his mind was dreaming about the elegant blonde, hoping against hope that he would meet him, and finally have an opportunity to talk to him. Unfortunately, due to his lack of concentration, he stumbled and lurched face first towards the ground.
Lucius’ reverie was abruptly broken by the sight of someone tumbling towards him with little grace and great momentum. He reached a hand out to steady this person, and was quite delighteen ien it sunk into the silky softness of the flesh which he had so longed to touch.

Dudley looked up, turning scarlet as he did so. He could not think of a less graceful way in which he could inveigle himself into his fantasy’s psyche. However, being Petunia’s well reared child, he knew that it would be churlish not to acknowledge the fact that this Adonis had helped him. It would be too much to hope that they would converse, that the man could have any interest in someone like himself. No…he better get this over with, and move on his way home – his mother could come shopping for vegetables herself from now on.

“Thank you very much sir”, Dudley finally managed to stammer out.

Lucius let a smirk grace his features, he knew the affect which it had upon male and female alike. “It was no trouble, I assure you. Lucius Malfoy.” He reached out to shake Dudley’s hand.

Dudley had let the dulcet tones wash over him, they spoke of money and breeding, everything which Dudley had been brought up to admire, and yet never been able to approach. “Dudley Dursely” he managed to squeak.

“Well Mr. Dursely, may I call you Dudley? Would you care to attend to your purchases, and then repair to a café? I would so like to know what thoughts graced your face with that smile prior to your near accident.”

“But, Mr. Malfoy..”

“Lord Malfoy actually”, said Lucius, raising an eyebrow, “services in the War, you know. But please, do call me Lucius”. He kept a poker face, but inwardly he was grinning from ear to ear. This was progressing even better than he had expected.

Dudley drew up his jaw with great effort. ‘Lord Malfoy – as in titled wealth’ he thought ‘wants to have coffee with me. But no, I better make my excuses, not get my hopes up.’

“Lucius”, he could not suppress a sigh “I would be honoured but..”

“No buts Dursley..”, the inner smirk increases – no butts indeed, “I insist. It is not every day I get to converse with such a personable young man”.

Dudley stammered his thanks, and randomly grabbed chubby fistfuls of vegetables. Lucius wondered what his.. mother? Fiancée? Wife? would do with two pounds of radishes, four new potatoes, eight watermelon, and half a stone of spinach. However his was not to reason why, it merely reinforced his anti-muggle prejudice. He glanced at his antique fob, a gesture not lost on Dudley, for he wrapped up his purchases quickly.
The time spent at the café seemed to pass in a blur – Dudley remembered eating far more than he usually would for breakfast, the aristocrat did not take no for an answer, and also selecting a series of pastries to be wrapped and taken away. He vaguely recollected that Lucius, such a delectable name, had moved closer and closer to him during the course of his aperitif. When Lucius asked if they could briefly return to his house to collect some papers and deposit hircharchases, Dudley agreed. A quick apparition and an obvliate later - and Dudley was gaping in awe at the splendour of Malfoy Manor.

It did not take long for Lucius to drag the befuddled boy towards his study. The opulence of the chaise lounge where Lucius laid the pastries beckoned to the boy, and he eased himself down onto it. Lucius sat down next to him, ostensibly shuffling through a sheaf of papers to find his required documents. He had noticed the hitch in Dudley’s breathing as he pressed against him, thigh to thigh. It was time for the second phase.

He opened the box from the patisserie, and brought out a cream filled brioche. Advertising his delight more than would normally be the case, he groaned as he bit into it. Well, he surmised, he would soon work off the added calories. Dudley’s jaw went lax, and he started to salivate. He could not decide which was more tempting, the other half of the confection, or Lucius’ rosebud lips.

However, his mind was quickly made up for him, as Lucius stretched across him and stuffed the pastry into his already chubby cheeks, one hand resting on his opulent stomach. Dudley sighed, this was heavenly.

He was taken by surprise however as Lucius bent forward further, and placed a chaste kiss upon his mouth. Startled, he stiffened up, but soon under the ministrations of Lucius’s talented finger and lips he began to relax.

The silken feel of the boy beneath his hand had led Lucius to forsake all control. He captured the perfect cherubs pout between his own lips, and ran his hands up and down the boy’s body. Slowly the boy relaxed, and opened his mouth.

The velvet tongue duelling with his was the first thing to elicit a moan from Lucius since his marriage to Narcissa. Even in his choice of whores he had to be circumspect and bow to fashion and tradition, his proclivity for the more earthy voluptuous ones had to be reigned in, due to the ease with which gossip spread through their ranks. He sighed, this level of pleasure was to be savoured, but damned if he had the patience for it now. Now he would just…damn, the door creaked open. He just prayed to Merlin that it was not that woman he was tied too.

No, it was worse.

“Daddy”, said Draco walking in to the room “would it be possible if Harry… oh. Fuck. Daddy, why are you kissing Harry’s cousin?”

Lucius groaned. This was going to take a lot of justification.

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AN: Liked it? Hated it? Think I should be locked away (I do too!)... please review