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Whispers of the Frost	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Lucius Views: 3319 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Whispers of the Frost
- 1
Written
for the_lady_zombie's birthday!

Title:
Whispers
of the Frost
Pairing:
Lucius/Severus
Rating:
R
Warnings:
Angst,
mention of very minor character deaths, coercion, some elements of
dub-con, adultery.
Word
Count: ~3,355
Notes:
Set
in 1979, Severus is 19, Lucius is older (and married). I wanted to
play with the idea of the coercion theme... normally it's assumed
that Severus joined out of anger and hatred, so I wanted to have a go
at another idea.
Prompts:
The
cocktail name 'Whispers of the Frost' and a piece of art called
Gloaming by MARikaArt on DeviantArt
(http://marikaart.deviantart.com/art/Gloaming-76495484)

“Everything
about you is quiet,” Lucius observed, as he stepped through the
door which Severus held open for him.

The elegant bar was
empty, making them the only patrons as Severus followed him in and
closed the door, cutting off the icy draft which whipped about their
ankles.

“I do so detest Muggle clothing,” Lucius
sighed, and Severus watched him strip off the expensive leather
gloves which protected his fingers. “Never warm enough.”

A
silent waitress appeared from nowhere and held her arm out for their
coats.

“The usual,” Lucius nodded in her
direction, and she turned without another word.

Severus had
never been inside the bar to which Lucius had led him that evening.
It was dark, lit by flickering candles in red glass orbs, which
drenched the cream coloured walls in bloody hue. Large leaved plants
stood against supporting pillars, and one side of the room was oddly
partitioned with a trellis of wood. A border of skulls and greenery
ran around the perimeter.

“Here,” Lucius guided
him with a light touch to his elbow and lead him to the table in
front of the trellis. “Sit there,” he gestured to a
low-slung armchair.
“Wouldn't the table be more-”
“Just
sit, Severus,” Lucius gave him a tight smile and seated himself
at the table, turning the chair so that he faced him. One elbow
rested on the table whilst his other hand reached forward and skimmed
Severus' knee.

Severus looked sharply around the room for
anyone to see Lucius' surprisingly brazen move.

“Nobody
else is here,” Lucius' tone was firm with quiet confidence.
“Ah, and here are our drinks.”

A tray floated over
to them and settled down next to his elbow. Lucius reached for one of
the glasses and held it out.

“What is it?” Severus
looked into the depths, trying to ascertain the contents from the
colour. He raised it to his nose and sniffed, finding that the
overwhelming fumes of spirit sent moisture to his eyes. Lucius
laughed.
“The drink is called 'Whispers of the Frost'.”
“And
contains?”
“Merlin, Severus, it doesn't contain any
poison, if that's what you're asking?” A flash of annoyance
marred Lucius' perfect face, but it melted in a second. “It
consists of whiskey, sherry and port.”
“Muggle?”
Severus couldn't hide his surprise.

Lucius' eyes flicked away
and Severus smiled, partly due to Lucius' discomfort at the
suggestion that he might enjoy something Muggle, but mostly due to
the reddened flush he noticed lingering from the cold at the end of
his patrician nose. With the country gripped in the throes of winter,
Severus had been disinclined to agree to their meeting, if he was
being perfectly honest, but a gentle thrum of desire perked in his
belly at the sight of the nicely normal
wind chap.

“What are you smirking at?” Lucius
arched an eyebrow and picked up his own glass. “Drink, it'll
warm you from the inside.”

Severus followed his
instructions and tried not to choke as the liquid stripped his throat
of skin. He coughed ungracefully and smothered his lips with his
fingers.

“An acquired taste,” Lucius let out a
gentle sigh, his own admission to the strength of the drink, letting
the glass dangle from his fingers. “But much needed on a night
like this.”
“Why is it so empty?” Severus
asked.
“It is empty when I pay for it to be.”

Severus
simply let one eyebrow lift in response. He was under no illusions of
Lucius' generosity; if the bar was empty, it was because Lucius had
been instructed that it should be. Severus was no fool, and though it
was the first time in his life that anybody had chosen to woo him, to
lavish money upon the task of trying to impress him, he had instantly
recognised it.

Lucius' Muggle dress had been the blinking neon
sign above the whole outing.

“Your suit is extremely
well made,” Severus announced dryly, gesturing to it with his
drink. “I wouldn't have thought a Pureblood such as yourself
would own such a finely made example of Muggle clothing.”
“Needs
must,” Lucius stared down his nose at his own knees. “And
you, Severus, are a need that really
must.”
“Are those your words, Lucius, or his?”

There
was silence as Lucius pretended to consider his answer, and Severus
let the act keep up, waiting for the curtain fall when they could
simply stop pretending, when the make up came off and the costumes
were removed. Later that night, when Lucius hovered nude above him,
that was when the honesty would come. He could wait for it.

“Must
you second-guess me so?” grey eyes rolled and Lucius crossed
one leg over the other.
“Have you ever given me a reason not
to?” Severus took another mouthful and felt it all the way down
into his stomach.
“I suppose not.”
“Dinner
was very nice, thank you,” Severus looked down at his
black-clad thighs and knew that his gratitude was crucial to massage
Lucius' ego.
“It was nothing, Severus. I do so like to help
those who are... less fortunate, shall we say, than myself... as long
as they are worthy of the gift.”
“And do you deem me
worthy?” Severus looked up warily. “I think there was a
time when that was not the case.”
“I merely doubted
your sincerity,” the blond smoothed over the points of
distrust.
“Yet if you had only asked my reasoning, you would
have found it.”

Lucius stared at him. “One should
not have to dig to find allegiance, Severus.”
“Well
you're an intelligent wizard,” Severus looked away from his
intense gaze. “You should have known I was unable to give you
what you needed immediately... my father... and my mother...”

He
closed his eyes, desperate to hide the fact that the subject of the
both them -one loved and the other not- was still to raw to broach
with a man who had little sympathy for it.

It surprised him
when a light touched pressed to his knee again.

“Family
issues are difficult,” Lucius' voice was low, velvety. Severus
knew it was meant to entice him. “If you agree, then you step
into the bond of another type of family, Severus, and I will
personally make sure that you are well looked after.”
“And
yet, after nineteen years with an oppressive father, all I want is to
stand alone for the first time in my life.”

The answer
slipped from his tongue before Severus could reign it back.

“I
know you feel that this may not give you the chance to do so, but
think about it,” Lucius shrugged. “Your expertise in
Potions will be of great use... your personal acclaim will soar, and
when we are successful... simply think of the rewards you will
reap.”

Severus had heard it all before. He simply nodded
and sipped at his drink, taking a larger mouthful than he had
intended. He spluttered on it, and his face flamed to life.

“Careful
now,” Lucius took the tumbler out of his fingers and set it
down. “Perhaps this conversation is too strong for the drink.
Or maybe the other way round.”
“Either way they
represent the same thing,” Severus muttered bitterly, wiping
his lips free of residue. “Whispers of the Frost.”
“My,
my, Severus,” Lucius laughed. “How poetic you are. I
never knew.”
“Most wouldn't take it as the compliment
that I know you have,” Severus straightened in his seat, wiping
his damp palms on his trousers.
“Implying that I'm cold?”
Lucius sipped from his glass.
“Implying would be a waste of
breath, nothing but the truth is called for where you're
concerned.”
“You wound me so.”

Severus
shook his head and looked away, letting his fingers have a final
swipe at his lips before he rested his elbow on the edge of the
armchair and let his wrist flop backwards. Slipping down on the
leather of the seat, his knee seemed to slide perfectly into Lucius'
palm.

“Sir?”

Even Lucius jumped as the
feminine voice cut through the intensity of the moment, and although
the blond swivelled in his chair to look at the speaker, his hand
remained on Severus' knee.

“Madam, I think you'll find
that-”
“I know, Sir, but I have a message for you that
I've been instructed to pass on...”
“Very well,”
Lucius sighed, dropping his foot to the floor and rising. “Severus,
excuse me for a moment.”

Extending his long fingers as a
sign of his permission, which they both knew didn't matter at all,
Severus settled in to wait and enjoyed the calm, unquestioning
silence. Lucius disappeared completely from view. With his insides
burning from the insidious cocktail he'd consumed, Severus looked at
the door. Walking away would never have been easier -there would be
only one way that Lucius could interpret his sudden absence. Severus
had nobody to go to, nobody to need his assistance.

Only
yourself.

The
burn slowly spread, eating through his muscles, organs and flesh
alike, and though he know it was only a trick of his mind, as he rose
to his feet he felt sure that the flames were actually licking at the
heels of the only boots he'd had to wear out for the evening. He
looked down at them, at the overly-liberal coating of polish he'd
daubed on them in desperation. They shone like the falsity of his
interest in the cause.

Dark
arts, yes. This madman...

“Severus,
where are you going?”

Lucius' voice was whip-sharp
through the bar and he froze, one hand extended for the door handle.
He said nothing and simply waited. Lucius' fingers curled over his
shoulder and clamped down tight. His whisper, Severus had to hold
back his ironic smile, was frostier than he had ever heard it.

“Do
not leave this bar,” Lucius instructed. “It will be the
last thing you ever do, Severus. Do you understand me?”
“And
so what is the point of a façade about choice, Lucius?”
“Needs
must,” Lucius muttered. “Needs must and we have severe
need of you. Walking away is not an option, not now, and not ever. Do
you understand me?”
“If I try?”
“Perhaps
you'll be reunited with your Father sooner than you expected,”
the hiss made him shiver. “And if I know one thing about you,
then it is how that thought will make you sick to your
stomach.”

Beleaguered and wan, Severus let out a breath
he hadn't realised he had been holding.

“And if you are
so insistent on leaving, then I will be by your side.”

Severus
managed not to jump when warm lips caressed beneath his ear and
kissed.

“Don't be foolish, Severus... your mind is far
too brilliant to waste in walking away. Trust me.”
“I
don't trust you as far as I could throw you,” Severus muttered
over his shoulder.
“And that is how I know you are the most
intelligent wizard I could ever recruit,” tight arms wrapped
around his waist.

***
Intelligence, however, did not
prevent Severus from finding himself naked and on his back, with
Lucius' long hair scraping back and forth across his shoulders as the
blond kissed him.

As he lay there, his penis throbbed with the
remnants of recent completion, and the skin between his legs was damp
with the older wizard's seed. His joints ached from the way he had
held his ankles up on Lucius' shoulders for as long as he had, whilst
the man plunged in and out of him, taking his own pleasure and
delivering it in droves. Severus shivered, clenched the muscles in
his backside and enjoyed the sensation of stickiness inside of
him.

The bed beneath his body was soft, far too luxurious for
the pitiful skin that lay upon it. Even though he knew that it was
his imagination, Severus felt as though every scar which littered his
flesh was new and painful, catching on the smooth cotton as Lucius
commanded him into it. Fingers were curled into the hair at his
temples, pulling gently, keeping his face steady as Lucius plundered
his mouth.

They both tasted of the cocktail from the
bar.

“Now that I think on it,” Lucius pulled up,
his lips somehow retaining an air of refinery despite their swollen,
blushed state, “Leaving the bar was a suitable idea... I don't
think I could have kept my hands to myself for much longer.
“Not
that you did anyway,” Severus remembered all the obvious
touches to his knee and the preventative hold before they'd stepped
out into the cold again.
“Mm, control when it comes to the
things I want is not my strong point, as my wife will tell you.”

The
truth, when it reared, was still enough to rip the breath from his
lungs.

“Don't,” Lucius warned, kissing him again
and sucking on his lower lip. “Not now...”

His
hips rolled with pointed intent, pressing his rejuvenated cock into
Severus' hip.

“Does she know?” Severus looked past
the man's face up at the ceiling.
“Of course not,”
Lucius snapped. “She is a good wife, Severus, but she's from a
good bloodline and I won't dirty my name with scandal.”
“With
a filthy half-blood like me?”

Cold grey eyes stared down
at him, but there was no forthcoming answer. Severus swallowed the
bile which rose in his throat, thinking of how much heavier the toned
man suddenly felt resting on his skinny bones. It was no matter, for
in the next second the weight was gone and Lucius climbed from the
bed, dragging a robe from a chair nearby and throwing it around his
body. He didn't bother to belt it, Severus noticed.

“Drink?”
Lucius asked over his shoulder.
“No,” Severus slipped
from between the sheets and reached for his clothes.
“Where
are you going?”
“I thought that...”
“Because
the flames were dampened now doesn't mean they won't be rekindled
later, Severus,” Lucius laughed, shaking his head and causing
his hair to shake down his back.

What possessed him to reach
out and touch it, Severus wasn't sure, but as his fingers sank into
the platinum silk, Lucius' shoulders stiffened. Combing through the
tresses, Severus fell into a pattern and enjoyed the cool sensation
slipping between his fingers. It surprised him that the intimate move
was permitted, but what shocked him more was the way that Lucius'
head tipped backwards, into the palm of Severus' hand, and a sound
akin to a purr rumbled out of his lips.

Unable to resist
pushing his luck, Severus stepped in front of the wizard, looking at
his firm chest and stomach, and the hanging, half-interested cock
surrounded by pale blond curls and soft balls beyond it. They took
his attention and held it; they were, perhaps, the only blemish on a
perfect body, purely because of their generic sagginess.

“I
will never understand you, Severus,” Lucius spoke softly then,
lowering his chin so that their lips were only millimetres apart.
“You claim to love a woman, and yet you look upon me so
reverently that I can't help but question your sexuality.”
“Enjoying
both sexes is a possibility,” Severus looked ashamedly
away.
“Especially in our world,” the backs of Lucius'
knuckles brushed across his right cheek.
“I suppose,”
Severus closed his eyes to the carpet.

When the kiss came, it
was as gentle as the wizard's tone, which Severus would have been the
first to admit surprised him. Lucius Malfoy screamed power, wealth
and class, and yet, in moments such as the one they currently shared,
his tenderness reigned supreme.

“Severus,” the
whisper filtered into his subconscious, and so wrapped up in thoughts
of the blond in front of him, he could only give a non-committal hum
as his reply. “Severus, look at me.”

Forcing his
eyelids to rise, Severus found a soft expression awaiting him.

“I
want you to listen to me, because I am only going to say this once.
Do you understand me?”
“I'm not a child, Lucius, nor
an imbecile-”
“Just... listen,” the tip of one
cool index finger settled over his lips and held them together.

“I
will protect you where I can, but what's inside of you, Severus, is
too soft for the Dark Lord.”
“What are you implying?”
Severus bristled.
“I am not
judging you,” Lucius' voice was a whisper. “But never
show him your yearning for affection, Severus. Never let him see that
you crave love. He considers it a man's biggest weakness.”
“And
you and your wife?” Severus stared.

He had seen Lucius
and Narcissa together at the very few social occasions he had been
invited to. The blonde woman hung off Lucius' arm and sent simpering
smiles and demure little kisses when she could. To Lucius' credit, he
was an attentive husband, and returned the kisses, and his hand never
left the small of Narcissa's back.

“We are committed,”
Lucius said simply. “Committed to each other and bound by magic
and our families. You, however, are alone and... despite what you
might think of me, I would not like to see you hurt by his
hand.”
“And yet you willingly trap me into his
service.”
“You still have a choice...”
“Die
or work for the Dark Lord. Tell me, where in either of those options
is there a safe option for me?”
“I will keep you
safe,” Lucius dismissed his protest.
“As long as I
keep opening my legs for you?” Severus challenged.

He
knew he had found his mark as a slight tinge of pink developed on
Lucius' cheeks.

“So that you can keep telling yourself
that your wife gives you everything you need,” Severus found
himself unable to shut up, “But really you need more on the
side to sate yourself? That you do it with me, a filthy half-blood
whom you think of no real worth, is a secret you hope to take with
you to the grave?”

When Severus stumbled, he realised
too late it was because Lucius had shoved him hard on the shoulders.
He landed with an ungainly bounce on the bed and felt all at once
brazen and abused. Lucius covered him in seconds, hair dangling and
silken robe caressing his flesh, but the sneer on his lips was
horrifically unpleasant.

“The answer to your question is
yes,” Lucius said simply, before wrapping his fingers around
Severus' cock and tugging. “And if you know what's good for
you, Snape, you'll keep your filthy mouth shut or you'll go the same
way as your Mother.”
“What-”

Lucius
stared down at him, his eyes threatening, daring Severus to
ask.

“Desperate times,” Lucius lowered his head
until he was able to mutter into Severus' lips, “Call for
desperate measures. Your mother was a desperate measure, Severus, and
further more, you are mine.”

Shaking with fury, Severus
writhed and tried to fight his way free, but his wrists were pinned
into the bed, and his body trapped beneath Lucius' stronger one. They
tussled until Severus found his fight had withered away, and Lucius
smirked smugly down at him.

“That's it,” he
softened the tight line of his lips to press a kiss to Severus' brow.
“Too easily angered, too easily hurt... too expendable to the
Dark Lord, and... after your mother's sacrifice...”

The
unsaid words floated in an ugly miasma between them, and Severus
closed his eyes.

“Trust me,” Lucius whispered,
repeating his words from the bar, and Severus couldn't help his
shudder.
- 1
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Whispers of the Frost