Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 37407 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-CH8
- 9-CH9
- 10-CH10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Three
Harry wasn't sure what Draco was going to do to him, but it was going to hurt and would likely be loud. Draco was definitely a yeller. Not to Vernon's level, but in its own way spectacular and just as impressive for someone so small. The boy was also a hitter—Also not to Vernon's level. Harry tried not to compare anyone to Vernon in that regard.
The three of them were standing right outside the door to the house, as if waiting for Harry to come outside but not willing to go in and get him. Harry deliberately kept his hands down, just in case Draco was in a punching mood and saw defense as means to attack. Pushing the door open slowly, Harry stepped out, using it partially as a shield.
“Potter!” Draco shouted, wand in hand.
Harry flinched, keeping his hands down and open, and stepping out onto the patio, the door swinging shut behind. “I didn't do a thing. I didn't even know.”
“Bullshit! You—you... He's my father!” Draco snarled, not really sure what Harry had done, but knowing somehow it had to be the boy's fault.
“I am well aware,” Harry replied evenly. “That is why I'm just as confused. He's straight. We all know he's straight.”
Blaise whistled softly. “Is he? I mean, consider his generation. They were all in the closet back then... Hell, he could be Bi, and it just never came up before our pretty Harry here. I'm straight and things still come up for Harry,” Blaise added with a wicked smile and wink.
Harry rolled his eyes, Blaise's theory that Harry could turn any straight man gay not helping. Especially with the way Draco was glaring at him. “I did not turn him gay. I've barely said two words to him since I got here. And all he's bothered to say to me was to complain about my clothes, and how I get hurt, oh, and messing up the house, and eating everything—Shit, Draco, he fucking hates me.”
Pansy huffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Geez, I wish he'd hate me like that. I thought he was going to make you deep throat his wand—”
“That is not helping, Pans!” Harry snapped, stepping back when Draco snarled and brandished his wand again. “I was just sitting there—You saw me! I had my eyes closed. I didn't even know the spell was done until... until...”
“Until you were sucking on his fucking wand,” Draco growled, and Harry knew that this was definitely a hitting mood.
Sighing, Harry held his hands out wide. “Fine, whatever, blame me for everything. I wanted to leave and go move into a motel, but the two of you insisted I stay. I was just minding my own business—”
“Oh, don't pretend you didn't love it,” Pansy interrupted with a wide grin. “Your face was bloody red.”
Harry glanced worriedly at Draco, shrugging helplessly. Harry was a terrible liar and they all knew it. “He's... Damn it, just because he's hot doesn't mean I was chasing him, Draco. Stop pointing your wand at me.”
“Or he might suck it,” Blaise snickered, Pansy cackling with him.
Harry hated them both at that moment. “You aren't helping!”
“There is no helping this, so might as well just sit back and enjoy,” Pansy said simply.
“Alright, the two of you go away. I need to talk to him without your weird shit.” Harry waved his hands at Blaise and Pansy, but Draco stopped them before they could go.
“What the hell is there to say?” Draco threw his arms up in exasperation. “He... Gah, he likes you? This is fucking gay—Damn it, literally. This is messed up. Did you—Shit, is this why mother left?”
Harry held his hands up, eyes wide. “Whoa, don't blame that on me, Draco. I never came over here before then. You said it yourself—Your mom started hanging with your Aunt and got sucked up in her shit.”
“Yeah, but maybe she was going out more because Father was, well, gay?” Draco didn't look sure about anything, his face pinched with worry.
“Don't... You shouldn't just assume, okay? Relationships are complicated, especially the longer they go. Just talk to your dad and, you know, please leave me out of it.”
Draco shook his head. “There is no way I'm talking to my father about this. He was totally going to... Right, kiss my best friend, and that's fucked up and I'm not talking to him about any of it.”
“It's not fucked up,” Pansy disagreed sharply. “He's not ancient. He's not dead, and your mom is out of the picture.”
“Pansy...” Harry warned, but the girl would not be silenced.
“I'm tired of it. He's a damn person, not just your dad. You shouldn't judge him like that.”
“Listen, I've ignored your crush on him for ages, 'cus seriously, you never stood a damn chance,” Draco growled, Harry sighing and shaking his head with Blaise frowning worriedly. “You don't know a damn thing about my father, and you never will, so mind your own bloody business.”
Pansy did not start crying like Blaise and Harry had feared. Instead the girl stood taller and laughed. “You really don't know a thing about people, Draco. Maybe once you reach his age you'll understand. Being happy is damn difficult sometimes, and why should you fight against the things that make you happy? Even your mother, as messed up and sad as it is, went off and did something she found fulfilling. Do you expect your dad to wait around for her to change her mind, like everything is just going to go back to how it was?”
Harry wasn't sure if Draco was going to yell or breakdown, neither option desired. “Draco, I'll leave. Right now. No anger, no bitterness—It's fine. I don't want to mess up your situation anymore than it already is.”
Draco pulled his glare away from Pansy for a second to turn to Harry. “Shut up, you're not going anywhere. Pansy, I'm not waiting for my mom to come back, but god, have a little fucking respect. Shit, at least Harry isn't following him around the house trying to get him alone.”
Pansy shrugged, not sorry for any of it. “Hey, not like you get a lot of opportunities with Lucius Malfoy.”
This was all just getting way too awkward for Harry. “Listen, I'm going to go throw some of my things together and get lost for a bit. I need to think, and this—” He waved his hand at the the world around him, “Isn't helping.” Before Draco could turn and try and convince Harry otherwise, Harry slipped into the house and shut the door behind him.

Lucius had tried to calm himself by pacing his room, but to no success. The little brat was haunting him, glowing green eyes stuck in his memory as if he were right there in the room with him. That Lucius desired the boy be there was even worse. Surely Potter would clash with everything he owned.
Not the boy, but his wardrobe. Lucius was starting to make the distinction. Every time he was repulsed by the terror of clashing colors, torn worn fabric, and ill fitted sizes, he was being drawn to what was underneath it all. The glimpses of golden skin, toned, lithe form and those ever tantalizing red lips would go with anything. The attributes had even made the cacophony of mess that Potter called clothing bearable. Lucius was certain that without said clothing, the boy would be well suited for his house, never mind bedroom.
Harry had made the barest of noises, soft, uninhibited gasps of pleasure when Lucius had pressed his fingers to those firm, ripe lips. For all Potter's skittering looks and mumbled apologies, underneath was a fire raging, just needing the right touch to release it. Lucius knew he could do it—The idea of even attempting was exhilarating.
But Lucius had stopped himself. Harry's eyes blinking open, just ready to go wide and innocent like they always seemed to do, had reminded Lucius that the boy had no one. No parent, no relative, no caretaker. Lucius had too much power, owning the house and deciding if the boy could dwell within it. It was not the right balance, even for something as delicious and tawdry as a fuck in his study.
A walk was in order. Something to get him out of the house and far away from the wild boy and his many annoying quirks. Perhaps an outing by the lake... Decided, Lucius threw his bedroom door open, stepping into the hall and tripping over the bloody nuisance of a boy he had been hoping to avoid.
“Damn it—Sorry, Mr. Malfoy.” Blinking owlishly at the man who had just knocked him halfway across the hall, Harry got to his feet, muttering as he checked his glasses. They were broken, and he growled softly. Nothing was going right that day. He glanced warily at Lucius, the man looking at him as if Harry had intentionally placed himself in his path instead of having been on his way out the door. Harry would fix the glasses later, when not being glared at.
Harry picked up the duffel bag he had dropped, slinging it back over his shoulder. Glasses clutched carefully in his hand, he continued his walk towards the stairs.
“Glasses, Potter,” Lucius ordered, Harry stiffening and stopping mid step.
He really should just go. The man was probably just looking to insult him. “What about them?” Harry asked, shaking his head at his own stupidity. He just couldn't let it go, could he?
“I was offering to repair them,” Lucius said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.
“Oh... Fine, if you want.” Harry shrugged, dropping his bag and turning to hand his glasses over. Lucius's fingers brushed his and Harry stared down, feeling a jolt from the contact. It really was ridiculous just how mad Lucius made him feel.
To think Draco was downstairs certain Lucius was lusting over Harry, when up here it just seemed like the man could still barely stand to be near him. Harry knew it hadn't been a dream, very well remembering Lucius and his wand... and fingers... But it seemed very far away, Lucius now ordered and proper, and nothing like what Harry remembered in the study.
“Er... Sir, I'm going to need those back,” Harry called when Lucius suddenly turned, walking through the door he had just exited with Harry's glasses in hand. Sighing, Harry waited a moment but Lucius didn't return. Tapping his foot, he decided being rude and intruding was likely better than never getting his glasses back.
Being nearsighted, Harry got more of an impression of Lucius's bedroom than anything of much detail. The smell was the most impacting, very much full of the expensive cologne the man wore. He could make out dark rich woods mixed with white linens, light blinding in from the open drapes. And Lucius, standing in front of a large mirrored dresser, chanting steadily as he spelled Harry's glasses back together.
Harry stepped closer than he normally would, wishing to make sure the man was repairing his glasses and not cursing them in some fit of revenge for Harry's many terrible clothes. Harry would not put it past Lucius. “If you're done, I really need to get going,” he said impatiently, trying to ignore the funny way his stomach was tripping to be in Lucius's bedroom. It was the man's inner sanctum, very much seductive and sensual. A dangerous place to be after the confusing incident of early.
“Oh, and where are you going in such a hurry?” Lucius asked, pulling a soft cloth out from one of his drawers to carefully clean Harry's glasses.
Harry shrugged, really not wanting to get into it. “Out.”
“With a bag full of clothes.”
“Yeah, so? It's not like I live here or anything. I figured things were getting too weird, and I should start looking elsewhere.”
Lucius raised a perfectly manicured brow, humming softly. “I thought you liked weird things, Potter. You don't seem to know much of normal.”
Harry gritted his teeth, not sure exactly what the insult was, but knowing it was another damn insult on top of a really fucked up day. Hadn't Lucius just been sticking his wand down Harry's throat? Now the man was going to call him weird? “You know what, Lucius? You are a bloody neurotic, rude, absolute pain in my ass. I have done everything to be pleasant to you from the very beginning—Hell, I wanted to be pleasant. You did a really nice thing for me, letting me stay here. It should have been really easy to like you. But you managed to make it impossible.”
“Potter, you have been wearing the most atrocious clothes since the day I picked you up from your relatives,” Lucius said, as if that explained everything.
“So? Who the hell cares? Why does it matter what I wear? More importantly, why does it matter to you?” Harry was almost shouting and he didn't care. The man was infuriating and messed up, and shouting was much easier than thinking of the other things he'd very much rather be doing with his mouth in that moment.
“Potter,” Lucius growled, wrapping Harry's glasses in the soft cloth and placing them on the bureau. “You have been taunting me since the very first moment. Wearing such terrible clothes, holes all over the place, one pair of pants I was certain were see through, they had been worn so much. Do you think I'm naïve?”
Harry had no idea what Lucius was talking about. “Naïve? Lucius I have told you, those are the only clothes I own.”
“I am aware.” Lucius flicked his wand, Harry's duffel bag soaring in from the hallway and landing at their feet, the door snapping shut behind it. “May I?”
“What, go through all my things and tell me how terrible they look? Knock yourself out, you bloody psycho,” Harry grumbled angrily. And naturally, Lucius did exactly that. The man pulled nearly every article of clothing Harry owned out of the bag—surprisingly not that many, for all the horror Lucius remembered of the clothing—and verbally described each piece in such scathing detail Harry was actually impressed with the man's extensive vocabulary.
“Are you done?”
Eyes narrowing as the bag was found to be empty, Lucius turned his piercing glare to Harry. “No. Those jeans you're wearing. Those enormous, disgusting, hideous, thread worn, low-class, shapeless...” Harry tuned the man out, watching as Lucius gasped for air while continuing his rant on the pants Harry was wearing. “...Potter, give them to me.”
“Huh?” Harry blinked, something changing enough in the long chain of insults for Harry to realize Lucius had said something different.
“Give me your jeans,” Lucius demanded, his hand held out expectantly.
Harry took a step back, grinning crookedly as heat rushed to his face. “Er... No. That would definitely be a no.” Lucius was out of his mind if he thought Harry would be handing over his pants.
Lucius ignored the answer, striding forward and grabbing Harry by the hem of his shirt. “This too. This oversized, ugly thing. Look at the holes in it—This is not the way to dress.”
“Malfoy—I don't care. It's mine and I'll wear what I want!” Harry yelled, struggling against the hands trying to pull his shirt up and over his head. Pausing, Lucius gave Harry an accessing look. Then, with an elegant shrug of his wide shoulders, Lucius grabbed Harry's shirt by the collar and tore the material in half with one harsh wrench.
“Holy crap... You're a crazy person... Out of your fucking mind crazy...” Harry mumbled, staring down at the rip in his shirt and the flesh it revealed.
Lucius had been considering this, seeing as he couldn't stop thinking about the hideously dressed brat. But he was also staring at the long patch of revealed skin, and was already understanding that he had been very right. Slowly and gently he pushed the scraps of fabrics off of Harry's shoulders, watching in relief and anticipation as more of the boy's golden skin was revealed. “This is better... Much better...”
Harry blinked up, blushing when he found the man leaning very close and staring at his body. “Mr. Malfoy...”
“Lucius.”
“Er... Lucius... Are you feeling okay?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned for the man's sanity. Draco's mom had gone crazy and it looked like his dad was on his way. His breath caught, Lucius close enough that even without his glasses Harry could see his sharp gray eyes as they rose to meet his. And as Harry's shirt fell away, so did a lot of the anger in Lucius's expression. Apparently the man really hated his clothes.
“You have been taunting me, Harry,” Lucius murmured, hands lighting down Harry's sides.
“I-I have?” Harry did not remember taunting the man. He had been as polite as humanly possible while living with the jerk.
Lucius just nodded, mouth descending to Harry's collarbone and pressing a long, open-mouth kiss. “Every day... covering yourself in horrible...”
“Oh hell... They're all I have...”
“Atrocious... hideous clothing... not worthy of your beautiful flesh.”
“I am not—Oh god, why are you kneeling?”
“You are extremely beautiful,” Lucius muffled into Harry's stomach, tongue reaching out to lick a wet path. “Even with those terrible clothes... It is mind-boggling just how beautiful you are... Because these are horrible, horrible clothes...”
Harry just nodded dumbly, holding onto the man's shoulders to keep from falling. His knees were shaking and heat had completely flooded him, and Lucius was really close to finding out just how much Harry was enjoying the man's mouth moving over his skin.
“Oh, please don't,” Harry moaned, Lucius's hands now on his waistband and seeking out the front to his belt. Draco was going to kill him.
Lucius skillfully unclasped Harry's belt, slipping the leather from the loops and throwing it to the floor. He took his mouth from the boy's flat stomach, resting his forehead while staring down at Harry's fly as he slowly pulled it down.
“Stop—Shit, your son is going to kill me!” Harry tried to push Lucius away, shoving at his shoulders, but the man was like a damn mountain and didn't budge.
“Draco doesn't care,” Lucius said simply, glancing up at the very red-faced, absolutely stunning boy. Eyes catching, Lucius moved a hand up, pressing his thumb to Harry's nipple and then twisted slowly.
“Oh god... oh... oh...” Harry, eyes squeezed shut and mouth gaping, completely forgot what he was saying.
“It's not like he's in competition,” Lucius continued, gently pulling the little bud and watching as Harry jerked from each touch. “And really, it wouldn't be much of a competition, Harry. The things I can do to you... The depths of ecstasy I can bring you to... Hell, just the extra reach I have to twist you into any position...” He smiled into Harry's stomach, both hands again at the boy's hips as he began to pull the hideous jeans off.
There were too many thoughts swirling in Harry's mind from what Lucius had just said, many of them very hot and full of inappropriate ways to test those theories out. But... didn't Lucius have a wife...? “Mr. Malfoy—L-Lucius, he does care... He's angry... acting like I've been... Oh god, seducing you...”
“Seducing... that does seem like what you've been doing...” Lucius snagged his fingers under the waist of the boy's boxers, pulling the band forward as well, careful to move around Harry's prominent erection. And then the ugly clothes were at the boy's ankles and Lucius could finally see all of Harry, smooth skin, hard muscle and red flush. “You are beautiful.”
Harry refused to open his eyes, panting loudly and trying to will himself into some state of invisible camouflage like a lizard. This was insane—He was naked in front of Lucius Malfoy. He was naked, and the man wasn't insulting every inch of him. No, he had saved that for all of Harry's clothes. Harry himself was apparently beautiful to the man—Which only made Lucius that more crazy.
Lucius's hands were at his ankles and Harry mindlessly lifted each foot when urged, the man pulling off his shoes and socks, sneakers clattering on the floor some ways off. Then Lucius shifted, shirt ruffling as he stood and pulled Harry to his hot—Lucius was very fucking hot—body and began rubbing his palms over Harry's back.
“Open your eyes, Harry. I want to see you.”
Harry whimpered, turning his head and refusing. There was no way in hell he was going to face whatever disdain was on Lucius's face, no matter how pretty his words were at the moment.
Lucius sighed into his hair, moving his lips down and kissing Harry's ear, cheek and jaw. He gently caught the boy, fingers wrapped around his chin, and turned his face so Lucius could kiss him, slowly, headily, until Harry couldn't help but part his lips and let the man's questing tongue in.
Dear god, he was naked... and kissing Lucius Malfoy... while in his bedroom. Harry shuddered hotly, Lucius making an approving noise right before moving his hands lower and squeezing Harry's bare ass. “Oh god—Oh!” Harry gaped, Lucius pulling him even closer, his sensitive flesh assaulted by Lucius's clothing, his hard cock jolting into the man's thigh. He was naked and hard in Lucius's bedroom... And Lucius was... woah... He was big.
Harry hesitantly opened his eyes, gaze drifting down to the hot, hard bulge pressing into his lower stomach. He moved his shoulder's back while Lucius nipped at his jaw, squinted down, wishing he had his damn glasses. But he didn't, so Harry did the next—or maybe just better—thing, and slipped his hand down between the press of their bodies. His fingers cautiously traced the man's length through his pants, eyes widening as he realized just what Lucius was working with.
“Do you approve?” Lucius rumbled into Harry's ear, Harry nodding dumbly, blushing, if possible, even more. Harry could not seem to stop himself, and he pressed his palm firmly into Lucius's hard dick, gasping when the man growled and nipped his neck in response. Suddenly Lucius was lifting him, large hands on his thighs, pulling him up against his body and bringing them face to face as if he weighed nothing at all.
Harry stared, breathing shallowly, thighs stinging raw against the man's pants as he gripped Lucius's hips with his legs. Lucius was looking particularly predatory as he ran his startling pale eyes over his face. It was not five o'clock just yet, but Lucius was already stubbly with bristle, and Harry ran fingers cautiously over the rough flesh. It felt particularly nice, and Harry found himself leaning forward, tongue flicking out to taste the bristle like he had been wanting to since he had first stumbled across Lucius in the kitchen after a particularly bad nightmare.
Lucius hissed lowly from the touch. The sound made Harry dizzy, and he twisted his hand into Lucius's very silky hair, holding the man tight so that he could run his tongue flat over his jaw in long swipes. Harry soon followed with his teeth, moving to the sharp edge to nip, and then down, rough bristle scraping his smooth cheek as he bit and sucked down Lucius's throat. He was vaguely aware that they were moving, Lucius's hands holding him more securely, and then bright light flooded his eyes when Harry's head fell back against soft sheets, Lucius sitting back to stare and work at the buttons of his shirt.
Harry watched, biting his lip. He stared fuzzily at the dusting of blond hair on the man's broad chest, pale, smooth muscles and tight hard abs. He swallowed hard, Lucius tossing his shirt aside and moving forward, palms caressing over Harry's legs, squeezing the muscles of his calves and rubbing his knees. Then he was moving up, dragging rough fingers across Harry's flesh and digging into his outer thighs, pulling a surprised groan from Harry.
Piercing eyes caught him again, a question in them that Harry could not quite decipher. Harry was lying in Lucius's bed, naked, the man very much breathing on his knee without even a shirt between them. Harry was having a difficult time thinking in general.
“Holy shit!” Harry yelped in surprise, Lucius suddenly gripping his hips and pulling him down the bed with a smooth motion, forcing his knees up and thighs spread wide. Harry had the amazing privilege of feeling the man's bristle against his inner thigh, prickling him into small, choked gasps as Lucius ran wet, hot kisses down one thigh and then up the next. Harry let his head fall back, eyes squeezed shut, not sure if he was going to die from embarrassment that Lucius's mouth was inches from his hard dick, or just die if the man didn't at least show an interest in sucking him off.
Breathing heavily into Harry's soft, firm flesh, Lucius gently sunk his teeth into his thigh, feeling the boy jerk and cry out. Harry was exquisite—Definitely made to be nude all the time. Even if Lucius dressed him in the finest clothes, nothing would enhance Harry better than fresh air, light, and Lucius's hands touching the boy. Lucius moved himself up slowly, pressing a chaste kiss to where Harry's thigh met his groin. And then ran his tongue out, moving through tight curls of hair to find the boys nestled, straining cock.
“Oh god... Oh my god...” Harry mumbled incoherently, hands flying to Lucius's head, fingers twisting in the man's long hair that kept brushing over his thighs and hips. Lucius continued to move his wet lips and tongue over Harry's length, teasing, taunting, and absolutely maddening. Harry whimpered, thrusting his hips up when Lucius breathed hot air right at the tip of his cock, but the man held him in place, keeping Harry from getting the contact he desperately needed.
“Slowly, Harry... I want to savor someone as beautiful as you...” Lucius purred, tongue swiping a path from his balls all the way to his tip. Harry just gave an exasperated bark of laughter, fairly certain that he was losing his mind.
“Savor me later... Suck me now,” Harry pleaded, groaning when Lucius chuckled and ran another wet trail, deliberately scraping teeth ever so lightly against his sensitive length. Harry threw his head back, body arching as Lucius again breathed scalding heat on his tip and then slipped his tongue out, lapping at his slit. “Hell!”
Stretching, Lucius pulled himself from between the boy's strong thighs, moving up Harry's body and finding the flushed face and near frantic eyes of the enchanting brat. Tipping the boy's chin, Lucius kissed him again, Harry giving a soft moan and relenting. “I'm going to burn all of your clothes,” Lucius murmured between long, deep kisses.
“Mister—Damn it... Lucius... that is not... Oh god... Oh, please...”
“I'm going to burn them... and you are going to have nothing to wear...” Lucius promised, settling his knees on either side of the boy's long, slender legs.
“You're... crazy...” Harry gasped, head falling back, only to be followed by Lucius's persistent mouth and tongue.
Lucius shrugged. He figured after all these years he could afford himself some eccentricities. “If you could see just how stunning you are... How fucking sexy...” Harry gave a little gasp, eyes widening when Lucius swore, the sound very foreign and arousing on the man's lips. “Clothing just hides you away... and that, Harry, is a crime.”
Lucius was a very convincing man, even if he was clearly out of his mind. Harry stared into the demanding gaze, a thrill tingling down his spine. “What... you uh, expect me to walk around naked?”
“Oh, you're going to be too tired for walking, I think...” Lucius growled, hands moving up Harry's sides possessively.
Eyes widening at the implication, Harry gaped silently. The man was... well... hot. Crazy and fucking hot... “So... er... Why would I, um, be so tired?” Harry whispered, gulping at the wicked grin Lucius gave in reply.
Hands moving down to Harry's hips, Lucius pressed his thumbs into the sharp protrusion of bone and rubbed slowly. “Because when you look as you do, especially without clothes, you have to expect that I am going to fuck you. Repeatedly. Until you can no longer walk.” Lucius tilted his head, eyes teasing. “It's only to be expected.”
“I see...” Harry's arms began to shake and he lowered them to the mattress. Repeatedly... He had said repeatedly... “And, uh, do I get any say in this?”
“Oh... I suppose...” Lucius let his hands move down, cupping Harry's ass and running his fingertips down his crack. “You get to say how hard... Oh, and how long...” Lucius bent forward, nipping Harry's lips while the boy whimpered. “How much more...”
“More...” Harry echoed, eyes fluttering shut and hips rocking up towards the man above him.
“Yes, just like that,” Lucius agreed, pressing a finger against Harry's tight hole. “Whatever you want...”
“Oh fuck,” Harry gasped, pressing down, urging the finger inside.
Lucius hissed, nipping Harry's bottom red lip again, holding it between his teeth and releasing it with a wet pop. “That was the plan.”
Since finding Harry sitting on his trunk, next to the ugly metal car and wearing clothing a troll would have discarded, Lucius had been planning on having the boy. He just hadn't fully realized it, very much distracted by foolish things like morals, propriety, and hideous clothes. Just as much as the boy was made to be nude, he was also made to be spread beneath Lucius, gasping those sweet, desperate cries in his ear.
Lucius called his wand from his bureau, flipping the surprised boy with a quick roll. He paused, hissing softly, noticing when Harry stiffened and did not relax this time.
The boy's back was littered with scars, long white lines and shorter bright flecks of pain highlighted even brighter with the way Harry's skin was quickly turning red. Eyes transfixed on the bizarre crosshatch that had no right to be there on the boy's beautiful skin, it took Lucius a moment to realize Harry was gasping for air.
Moving off Harry and to the side of the bed, Lucius turned the boy onto his side, raising Harry's face so he could breathe and Lucius could read whatever the hell was going on in his mind.
Having caught sight of those piercing eyes, Harry shut his own quickly, trying very hard to focus on breathing and not the terror and all encompassing shame that was filling him. Lucius was tracing his jaw, almost gentle, and had yet to say anything horrible or otherwise. Harry wanted to disappear into the mattress, wishing he hadn't forgotten why he always wore a shirt, the heat Lucius had filled him with completely stealing his sanity.
“I sh-should—”
“Be quiet,” Lucius ordered, his voice low and soft. “I want you to breathe deep, calm down, and be very quiet.”
Swallowing, Harry nodded, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on breathing.
Lucius bent over Harry's gasping form, fingers resting on the boy's arm. Carefully, as if they were raw wounds and not old scars, he began to trace the lines on Harry's back. Most were from a belt, a distinct buckle that's edge had hit the boy's back repeatedly. The bright flecks were from the sharp pin that kept the belt in place, having dug into his smooth skin on numerous occasions.
Lucius knew it was none of his business, but that wasn't knowledge enough to stop him from asking. “When?”
Harry jolted as if struck, taking a moment to answer. “S-Summers... Mostly last...”
Last summer Draco had asked his parents if he could have a friend over for a few weeks before school started. Narcissa had become enraged when realizing the friend had been muggle raised and only halfblood. Harry's name had never even made it into the graceless conversation.
Brooding silently, Lucius spread his fingers, pressing his palms into the boy's back and slowly massaging his tight shoulders and muscles. Harry stiffened under his touch but slowly, bit by bit, minute by minute, the boy unwound, relaxing and turning onto his stomach to give Lucius more room to work.
His breathing was slower, nearly normal, and Lucius pressed his face to Harry's neck so he would hear his quiet replies. “Do you have many panic attacks?”
“Only the last year...” Harry sighed under Lucius's strong hands, lashes fluttering. “The nightmares, and now... I can't be without a shirt...”
“You choose not to charm them hidden.”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “I know there are spells, just... I'll always know that they're there. I don't know if I want to pretend otherwise.”
Lucius sighed into Harry's neck, sending a shiver down the boy's spine. “I would like to show you something.”
Harry sat up hesitantly after Lucius pulled away. It was hard to meet the man's eyes, but he made an effort. There was no pity in the sharp gaze, no cruelty or taunts. Harry relaxed, idly combing his messy hair into some sort of order. He froze, watching as Lucius picked up his wand and waved it over the front of his broad, bare chest.
“Holy crap...” Harry swallowed, eyes caught on the deep long scars that ran across the man's ribs. There were two and Harry was fairly certain, although having never seen the end result before, that they were done by a whip. Lucius turned slowly, and there were many more on his back, varying degrees of intensity, some so deep looking it was a wonder that bone wasn't peeking through. “Who...wh-why?” Harry stuttered, hand inadvertently reaching out to touch the small of Lucius's back where a particularly deep pit slashed white.
Lucius turned, grasping Harry's hand and staring down at his fingers. “I was young. Younger than you are now... My father did not approve of my choice of lovers. He caught me... I was able to protect the young man I was with, but I was not so lucky.”
“Your own father did this to you?” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “That's insane.”
Lucius smirked without warmth. “Yes, well that describes my father well. He never let me out of his sight after that. Took me out of school, arranged for Narcissa to marry me and then, some years later, introduced me to You-Know-Who. My father was very determined that I make something proper of myself.”
Eyes moving over Harry's face, Lucius bent down to where he was sitting on the bed and kissed the boy softly. Pulling away, he reached across the sheets, wrapping his dress shirt over Harry's shoulders and covering his back. “Perhaps you should go for now. I've put myself in a mood, and don't wish to upset you further.”
Pulling the soft shirt securely around him, Harry's eyes kept glancing to Lucius's scared chest. “Oh... if that's what you want...” He stood, fingers again brushing lightly over the white puckered marks. Lucius gently trapped his hand, raising it to his mouth and kissing his fingertips. Harry swayed, blushing and feeling very hot. Only to gasp, eyes flying to behind the man where Lucius was pointing his wand.
“You're bloody mad!” Harry yelped, watching his clothes become consumed by purple flames.
“I told you I was going to burn them,” Lucius said simply, cupping Harry's face and kissing him again.
Harry moaned, trying to pull away from the hot mouth plundering him. “Yes... and you were mad then, too... Now I have nothing... to wear...”
“Such a shame,” Lucius purred, pulling from Harry's mouth to kiss his forehead firmly. “Looks like you're going to have to stay a while longer.”
Harry gaped disbelieving at the man. He continued to gape as Lucius returned from the dresser to hand Harry his glasses and then disappear out the bedroom door.
The... the fucker had burned all his clothes!
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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy