Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Home From the Hill	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 5713 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Home From the Hill
- 2-Part Two
- 1
- 2
Thank you for all the reviews!
            “Thank you again for being so cooperative.”
            “You need not leave so soon, Mr. Potter. I am happy to host you for dinner.”
            Harry blinked at Lucius, who gave him a bland smile and rested a hand casually near Harry’s head on the back of the chair. “I wasn’t aware that people coming out of house arrest hosted their questioning Aurors on a regular basis,” Harry said cautiously.
            “I don’t know what most people coming out of house arrest do on a regular basis.” Lucius sounded polite and mildly curious the way he so often did. “I don’t often associate with them. But I know what I like to do.”
            Harry met and held Lucius’s gaze until he realized that Lucius wouldn’t back away, and then he began to smile helplessly. “Yes. All right.” He shook his head a little. “I’d be happy to stay for dinner, if the quality of your elves’ cooking is anywhere near the quality of the tea you’re always serving me.”
            “And here I thought the quality of my company would be the main temptation.”
            Harry caught his breath. There was a glint of mischief in Lucius’s eyes before he turned and walked in the direction of what Harry assumed was the dining room. It was an expression Harry had never seen before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it portended.
            Harry followed, shaking his head. He’d come here to discuss the end of Lucius’s house arrest, and what kind of scrutiny he would still be under (including a yearly Auror visit to make sure that he wasn’t accumulating Dark artifacts). He’d thought he would explain and leave to start writing up his report.
            Instead, it seemed he was going to sit at a large table spread with a white cloth, in front of a fireplace mantel carved with long, slinky hounds, and be invited, with the same perfect courtesy that Lucius always had, to take pieces of candied orange peel from a bowl in the center of the table.
            Harry ate them and watched Lucius in silence. Lucius had changed over the last eight months since Harry had first visited him. He no longer kept the cane with him as often; Harry wasn’t sure if it was that he needed it less or that he’d never needed it and was putting it aside with Harry as a sign of trust.
            Then again, there were a lot of things he was less than sure of with Lucius.
            “One thing that strikes me,” said Lucius, looking up, “is that you never talk about yourself when you’re here, Auror Potter.”
            Harry blinked and pulled back his hand, which had been reaching towards the bowl. “What do you mean? I did tell you more about the torture that I went through when Draco’s kidnappers caught me than anyone else knows. Even the Healers at St. Mungo’s.” He had only told the Healers the extent of his wounds, not what he had felt like while receiving them.
            “You honor me with your confidence, Auror Potter.”
            Harry rolled his eyes a little. “And you are the only person I know who gets more formal instead of less with increasing intimacy.”
            “Were we discussing intimacy?” Lucius’s eyes met and held his. “I wasn’t aware.”
            Harry glanced down at his hands and focused on the color and shape of his nails until his breathing evened out. “You’re disconcerting,” he said, glancing up with a faint smile. And I shouldn’t be as attracted to you as I am.
            “I meant to be, that time.” Lucius studied him. “You have helped me, and accepted my help. And Apparated here because you thought my home was the safest place in the world. But you still hold yourself back from me in far more than the titles you use, Auror Potter.”
            “I don’t really know what you mean, Lucius. You’ve seen me at my most vulnerable—”
            “Forced vulnerability. Because you had no choice about showing that to me; you were beaten down and couldn’t choose how you reacted. Perhaps you would have said much the same to anyone who gave you a warm bed and a bath.”
            “But not everyone would have stayed with me the way you did, and—touched me the way you did.”
            It took Harry a lot of courage to say that, with his face burning so hard that he wished he had cool water around to soothe it. But Lucius’s response was extraordinary, and justified the risk.
            Lucius’s eyes burned, his head twisted, the hand that had been resting on the edge of the table rose a little. None of those would have meant much to someone who didn’t know Lucius. But Harry did.
            He knew what they all meant. For once, he picked up a piece of candied orange peel and chewed on it with complete satisfaction.
            The food appeared on the table then, and even the steam entering his nostrils made Harry feel like he was eating a full meal. He picked up his spoon and dived into the soup, deliberately not looking at Lucius.
            Lucius touched Harry’s hand with one long finger. Harry had to look up.
            “I am pleased,” Lucius said, his voice barely more than a breath. “Shall I show you how pleased?”
            “That would be nice,” Harry said, and his own voice was breathy and aroused; he couldn’t believe how much.
            Lucius stood and rounded the table. Harry stood up to meet him, reluctantly leaving the delicious food behind.
            But Lucius’s hand on his shoulder and tongue in his mouth were better.
*
            “I wish that you would spend the night.”
            Lucius spoke the words without really looking at Harry. In fact, he was mostly looking at the fire. His mouth was soft and thoughtful.
            But Harry knew what the request meant. For the past three months, he’d departed Malfoy Manor after dinner on the days he came to visit Lucius. They hadn’t spent the night together, curled in the same bed. And neither had they gone much past jerking each other off and languid kisses. Not that those weren’t wonderful in their own right.
            Harry knew what Lucius was asking him now.
            “Yes.”
            Lucius turned. As though a mask had fallen away, Harry knew he didn’t have to look for subtle reactions this time. The broad, blatant ones were all over Lucius’s face, and he stretched out a hand and then tried to pull it back as if he thought Harry would reject him on principle.
            Harry laid his hand in Lucius’s, and then he was drawn into the whirlwind.
            The moments that lingered were the ones that Lucius made most real for him, the moments that weren’t simply heat and pleasure—although those were certainly nice. Instead, Harry remembered how he had stumbled against the doorframe when Lucius took him to his bedroom, and how Lucius drew Harry’s robe away from his shoulder and kissed it.
            The smoothness of the sheets on Lucius’s bed almost stung Harry’s skin as he lay down. He stretched his arms back and forth, moving them up and down, and Lucius looked at him with calm, joyful eyes and asked, “Do you need a moment alone with my bed?”
            Lucius undressed for the first time on his own, shaking his head when Harry would have sat up to help. His limbs were long and loose and as pale as the sheets.
            Harry did undress with Lucius’s help, because that was the way Lucius wanted it. Somehow, Harry had thought he would be reluctant to touch Harry’s Auror robes. Aurors were the reason that Lucius had stayed under house arrest so long. They were the reason for his separation from his family. He never mentioned it, but Harry knew that the owls he had sometimes talked about sending to Narcissa and never getting back spoke volumes. Narcissa had moved on, and she wouldn’t come back.
            I don’t know why that is.
            Then again, Harry didn’t think it was something he particularly needed to know.
            Lucius’s hands were as cool as the sheets, too, against his shoulders and throat. Harry lay there and let Lucius touch him for a moment as if he would strangle him. Then Lucius looked down and smiled, and his hair, which had grown out again over the last months, fell down around them.
            Harry touched the faint, fine hairs on Lucius’s arms, like dandelion fluff, letting them rise to his touch. Lucius lay there and watched only him, as if Harry’s eyes were somehow more real than his hands.
            “I am going to use a lot of lube,” Lucius said, and instead of feeling upset or annoyed by that, Harry squirmed and lifted his arse.
            He didn’t retain every moment, later, of the time during which Lucius played with him, but he knew that part of it was the only time Lucius looked away from Harry’s eyes all night. It seemed utterly important to him that none of his fingers hurt Harry.
            When Lucius’s cock came towards him, gleaming, then Harry arched to meet it, and surprised a soft breath out of Lucius.

            “I’ve thought about this before, you know,” Harry said, tilting his head back and letting Lucius stare at the bob of his throat.
            Lucius made a sound that could have been surprise or intrigue or pure pleasure as he slid into Harry. Harry didn’t think he particularly needed to know the nature of that sound, either. He hooked his ankles together behind Lucius’s knees and held on.
            Lucius moved inside him with eyes half-closed. Harry sometimes thought they were completely closed. Then he would catch a glimpse of grey beneath his lids, and that grey was always burning into him with intensity that Harry hadn’t seen anywhere else.
            Lucius whispered his name to him twice. Once when he reached down and traced a scar on Harry’s chest that he had almost forgotten about, the one where Slytherin’s locket had burned him. And once when he came, on a high, lilting breath that filled Harry’s chest with immense confidence.
            He came himself balanced on the softening edge of Lucius’s cock and his brilliant eyes.
            Any thought he might have had of getting up and leaving, or making things awkward, was stolen away by the way that Lucius curled around him and settled into him. His skin was cool, unexpectedly, with the drying sweat. Harry stroked Lucius’s hair, letting it splay over his fingers, and felt something inside him settle, too.
*
            “Hello.”
            Harry leaned out the door of his flat to kiss Lucius. Lucius kept him in the door, of course, holding him still with one finger in his hair and one finger on his chin as they kissed. Harry saw at least one gaping neighbor. He chose to ignore them.
            “Welcome home,” he added, and pulled Lucius into the drawing room. He knew he beamed at him like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was often an idiot around Lucius, just a better class of idiot than he used to be. “How did it go?”
            “Draco took the news better than I thought he would,” Lucius replied, and sat down next to him on the couch. His fingers strayed softly across the side of Harry’s neck and down to his shoulder. Harry sighed and tilted his head, closing his eyes. “Only a bit of shouting, and a bit more threatening to tell his mother about it.”
            “And you told him she already knew?”
            “I did, indeed. And that I had her blessing.”
            Lucius’s voice was soft, reserved. Harry knew why. The owl he’d got back from Narcissa telling him that, as far as she was concerned, their marriage was over and Lucius could do what he wanted with anyone else, was the first one he’d received from her since the war.
            “Well, that’s something, at least,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t give you up if I didn’t have her blessing, but I wouldn’t much care about it, either.”
            “That is the most romantic thing you have ever said to me.”
            Harry grinned. “Then I need to practice on saying romantic things more often.” He leaned up and kissed Lucius, and Lucius entwined lazy fingers in Harry’s hair and kissed him back.
            “What about your friends?” Lucius added, when the kiss had ended and Harry was trying to concentrate on finishing the conversation, instead of simply telling Lucius they should go to bed right now. The hand on his thigh, tracing lazy, loose figures that resembled large eights or infinity signs, didn’t help.
            “They weren’t that happy that I was dating you,” Harry admitted. “But we’ve changed since the war. They don’t think they need to protect me from myself anymore, and they know that I’m not going to insist they call you by your first name and get you Christmas gifts any time soon.”
            “I should hope not,” said Lucius, and shuddered a little. “One of the jumpers that Weasley’s mother makes might be acceptable, but not some of the books that Miss Granger thinks you need.”
            Harry stared at him with his mouth open, and knew he probably looked ridiculous. Lucius smiled back at him, the kind of faint smile that meant he was enjoying the expression on Harry’s face. “What? The jumpers are warm and practical.”
            “But not beautiful,” said Harry, because it was the only thing he could come up with. “Not elegant.”
            “Do you think I need that around me at all times?” Lucius asked quietly, and, while Harry was still scrambling for an answer, he touched the side of Harry’s neck again. “Not to mention that I have it as long as you are with me.”
            Harry looked up at him and had nothing to say. But he had plenty to do, including touching Lucius’s jaw and eyelids and hair with his own shaking fingers. Lucius let him do it, smiling all the time.
            They didn’t make it to Harry’s bedroom—their room, really, as it became more and more frequently now—that time, and Harry had the chance to think this wasn’t beautiful or elegant. But when he watched the curve of Lucius’s neck as he arched his head back against the wall, he decided that, actually, it probably was.
And when Lucius smiled at him, he decided that he didn’t need to think.
            The End.
*
Severus1snape: Sorry I couldn’t do that! But here’s the rest.
Anon: Thank you.
staar: Thanks, I appreciate it.
            autumngold: Thank you. Harry sort of puzzled himself with that Apparition, but at least he’s safe now.
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