In the Library

The dark-haired man ran his pale fingers reverently over the leather spines of his treasured books, every single one carefully lined up at the edge of the shelves, perfect vertical alignment for every tome. He extended one white, but curiously stained, index finger as he quickly scanned the titles, searching for that certain one; the one with the answers he so desperately needed at the moment.

The door opened silently. The blond aristocrat glided over the Persian wool carpet, ignoring the peeved glance he had received over the black wool draped shoulder of the Potions Master.

Suddenly, like a snake striking, Lucius had Severus trapped between his arm and the silver head of his cane. The brunet yielded, leaning his head back so that his lanky hair brushed against Lucius’ neck. Snape inhaled deeply, smelling the chill air that still clung to Malfoy, the scent of late autumn blending with the promise of snow.

Lucius wormed his black leather-clad hand between the buttons of Snape’s waistcoat, lovingly pressing the cold silver of his cane against Severus’ cheek.

“I saw what you did,” he hissed sotto voce.

“Mmmmm, and?” Snape murmured, his eyes drooping closed as the wintry touch of leather skimmed over his desire-hardened nipple.

“You were magnificent,” Lucius praised him; his lips barely brushing against Snape's sallow cheek. The whisper of his breath was warm against the dungeon-cooled skin of his long-time friend.

“Then prove it,” Snape challenged, his face and jaw as slack as the remainder of his body against the strength and power Lucius provided as a backrest.

“And, I will,” asserted the aristocrat. “I will.”

Lucius smiled greasily, definite promise gleaming in his gray eyes. "And many times over."

"Less talk, Lucius," grumbled Snape as he canted his head to the side to have his lips captured in a searing kiss from those thin, pale, noble-born lips.

Languidly, thin lips moved against thinner lips, claiming, praising, as mouths opened and tongues mingled. The kiss became more urgent, more violent. Snape nipped at Lucius’ lip, forcing him to retreat. Slowly, Lucius moved around to pin Severus against the shelves, sliding down to his knees to peer up with adoring eyes. He laid his cane on the carpet and then his leather-clad hands eased up the length of Snape’s legs. Lucius’ gloved fingers moved to the buckle on Severus’ belt, plying it open and sliding the tail free. The aristocrat dispatched with button zipper and trousers easing the wool past Severus’ hips. Leaning forward, Lucius buried his face in Snape’s silk-covered crotch, breathing in sharply. With that rush of air, Snape threw his head back, knocking all of the books askew.

“Lucius?” he moaned the question throatily.

“Yes?” The blond murmured against Snape’s crotch.

“Shall we adjourn somewhere less – exposed?”

“No.” As he answered, Lucius lipped the hard length of Severus’ cock through the silk, using his nose to nudge open the placket in front. Gently, Lucius’ hands skimmed higher up Severus’ thighs, sneaking into the loose leg holes of his boxers, higher still until he could hook his fingers into the elastic waistband. Sharply, he yanked the silk down, over Snape’s protuberant penis, and allowed them to pool on top of Severus’ black wool trousers caught around his ankles.

Chuckling softly, Lucius rocked back onto his heels to study his handiwork: a nearly slack-jawed Snape whose head lolled on the edge of the shelf; still dressed from the waist up; gloriously naked from the waist down – pale white skin in sharp contrast to the black wool he favored so; fists tightly clenching a sharp-cornered wooden shelf; proud penis protruding perpendicular to his pelvis. Groaning with need, Lucius roughly grasped Severus’ heavy balls, rolling them together as he sucked the tip of Snape’s penis into his hot mouth.

“Yes,” moaned the dark-haired man lustily.

Lucius smiled around his mouthful, pressing his tongue to the underneath of Snape’s head. His hand abandoned its cause to steady himself against the counter pressure of Snape’s taut thighs. Again, Lucius smiled at the sharp contrast of his black leather covered hands pressed tightly against the white skin of Snape’s legs. He sucked harder, as if trying to draw Snape’s very life essence through that small opening. He slipped more of Snape’s shaft into his mouth, moving his hands to finger the smooth space behind his balls. Increasing the pressure with his tongue, Lucius drew a long breath through his nose, then sucked, long and hard, matching pressure with his fingers. Snape’s ejaculate pulsed through the channel, exploding into the warmth of Lucius’ mouth.

Now smiling like a cat over a bowl of cream, Lucius pulled Snape’s boxers back up, following with his trousers as the dark-haired man recuperated.

“Whatever would your lovely wife say?” Severus purred contentedly at the man still on his knees at his feet.

“She is not home, and won’t be.”

He grinned maniacally, rising gracefully to his feet. Locking eyes with the other man, Lucius slowly tugged off his gloves, one long finger at a time. “Care to join me – upstairs?”

"Upstairs?" Snape asked as he re-shelved his beloved tomes with caring hands.

Lucius doffed his robes, draping them over a convenient leather chair.

"Upstairs," he reiterated with a gleam in his eye. "Where the beds are?"

"I am really not tired yet, Lucius." Snape smiled secretly to the leather spines of his books.

"I should hope not," Lucius drawled in reply, his eyebrow arching as he watched the pale hand of the Potions master straightening the dark leather books. "I had further plans for -- you."

Snape's lip curled in delighted anticipation as he quickly finished righting all of the books.

"Plans?" he asked as innocently as a Death Eater could possibly ask any question.

"You were magnficent," Lucius repeated himself softly. He enjoyed the slight shiver that coursed through the other man's body at his words.