Comfort and Conquer

(A/N: Written for Lucius-centric drabble/ficlet challence at the deatheaterdrabs community at Livejournal. The maximum word count was 750. I used the prompt "Men shrink less from offending one who inspires love than one who inspires fear." from Macchiavelli's "The Prince" ...and Lucius decided to give it a little twist. Epic thanks to my lovely beta Luci. p.s. I WON!)

Comfort and Conquer


"I... I can't stand this any more."

Regulus' fingers thread into Lucius' moon-pale hair. In his fear he grows childlike before Lucius' eyes -maybe that is all he is to his aristocratic lover. A pretty child.

"Is it so? Then I shouldn't have introduced you to the ranks of the Death Eaters and for that, I apologize."

Lucius' smooth drawl soothes Regulus' burning nerve endings -burning from fear, hatred, desire, love...

"I thought I was stronger."
"You are, my dear. You have your own reasons, don't you?"
"It's all that needless killing of Pureblood wizards, Voldemort's power-madness and..."

The boy has secrets that our Lord has not considered me worthy of knowing.

There is never such sarcasm in Lucius' voice when Voldemort's title flows from his lips -but his death-white mask is not the only perfectly fake face that Lucius wears. His patrician features melt into warmth and compassion. This is Lucius that Regulus has learned to love. To trust.

"He had a treasure, Salazar Slytherin's locket. I... I stole it when I had the chance. I hid it at my home and now I am as good as dead."

Lucius' fingers caress Regulus' jawline and move down his slender body. The younger man relaxes under his skilled touches.

"I won't try you to make change your mind. You are better than that, more than his minion, my love. Still... I am afraid that I cannot save you. My powers are no match to the Dark Lord..."
"I know. I just... don't want it to be that filthy Half-blood."
"I understand. But me?"

The young black-haired man smiles indulgently, his death-fear changing into lust, into need, as he feels the tick-tick-tick of his heartbeat counting moments towards his death. Regulus' laugh is tainted silver and he arches his hardened cock against Lucius' thigh.

You are so beautiful now, a true work of art. In some ways even more precious than Voldemort's ...other Horcrux. -The last thought almost makes Lucius shudder.- But sometimes you have to destroy beauty to make it perfect. Sometimes it is necessary.

"I guess your decadence has rubbed off on me more than you thought. I just... ahh... want a last time."

Lucius flashes a smirk like daggers and honey, thrusting two lubricant-slick fingers inside Regulus' arse.

"May death be kind to you as I will not."

The pain and the pleasure merge together and everything left in Regulus' world is Lucius in his coldly burning divinity, in his perfect control. Lucius, breaching him, making him beg for more. Oh, he does.

Regulus is adorable, eyes half-lidded, squirming around Lucius' cock as the silvery-blond Death Eater fucks him deep and hard. Lucius Accios a razor-sharp dagger and slides its blade gently along that pale skin, each movement like a part of an infinitely complicated dance.

The debauched ecstasy of closeness of death draws Lucius over the edge. The last time... Everything blurs in this haze of lust and completion, everything but Regulus' eyes shining like black stars.

Lucius wraps his fingers around Regulus' painfully hard cock and leans down, his hair like silver rain caressing the man's chest as he whispers into Regulus' ear.

"Come for me."
"Yesss... Lucius..."
"Die for me."

Regulus climaxes around Lucius' death-pale hand while he slits his throat with one delicate movement. A river of crimson flows over their bodies, the sweet smell of blood like an incense lit for their final merging, their final parting.

Regulus' face is strangely peaceful but it doesn't seem strange to Lucius. He inhales deeply the perfume of blood, of Regulus' death, until reluctantly casting Scourgify on their bodies. The burning summoning comes merely hours after.

The Dark Lord sits on his throne, his red eyes like fiery depths of inferno.

"Regulus Black has turned traitor. He is to die, either by my hands or yours, my loyal servants."

There is a sharp glance at Bellatrix who seethes with rage; her cousin has failed the ideals of the Death Eaters -and something more sinister towards Lucius. Voldemort was aware of their relationship, after all. Lucius' lips curl into a cold smile as he steps forwards and drops Regulus' corpse, charmed to invisibility, before the throne.

"Thy will is done, my Lord. Finite Incantatem."

It takes only a second for Lord Voldemort to hide his surprise at the sight of his prey already caught and Lucius takes care to not let Voldemort know that he saw it. His façade betrays no emotions.

Fools. Both of them, fools.