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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
- 4
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- 6
Chapter Five
“I can't believe you, you neurotic, psychotic, mother fucking tease!” Harry snarled even while Lucius held his rolled up tube of toothpaste and shoved it under Harry's nose like it was the crime of the century. Harry pulled his shirt down fitfully, reaching then for his pants and carefully pulling them up around his aching hard on. Being exposed in front of a pissed off Lucius did not do anything for Harry. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong, you rude, ill-mannered, uncoordinated little hell-spawn, is that guests do not go into a person's house and use their things without permission!” Lucius said lowly and with barely controlled anger.
“You don't even use toothpaste! That tube is in the same place I leave it every freaking time! No one else has used it the entire month I have been here—Nor any of the toothpaste in the other bathrooms!”
Lucius narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring. “You've used all of them? You systematically went through every bathroom in this house and used my favorite brand of toothpaste? You inconsiderate—Do you even understand how germs spread?”
Harry spluttered, fairly certain he was going to do something extremely painful to Lucius if the idiot didn't stop saying such stupid shit. Instead, Harry grabbed the man by the sides of the face, roughly licked him from chin to forehead, and then shoved him away. “How's that for germs, you goddamn psycho?”
Lucius, apparently, did not like that. Sneering like a wet cat, he grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in tight. He then stepped forward, forcing Harry back until he was trapped between Lucius and the sink. Harry probably should have been frightened, but it was Lucius and for some reason he just couldn't imagine the man hurting him. As if to prove the bizarre thought running through Harry's mind in that moment with the blond towering over him, Lucius growled and returned the offensive gesture. He used so much force, Harry's glasses went clattering to the ground when the man's tongue reached them. Harry fought the urge to laugh, still upset with the ass.
“You damn obnoxious, tormenting demon...” Lucius rasped hoarsely, grinding his cock into Harry's hip.
“Don't you dare start, you bastard,” Harry panted, head falling back to rest against the mirror while he clung to the sink behind him. “There's no way I'm letting you—Oh... Oh hell...” Lucius licked up his neck next, his hands tearing under Harry's shirt. He quickly pulled the boy's pants back down and off, wrenching Harry's narrow hips and crashing the two of them together.
“You are going to pay, Potter. On your knees. Bent over every surface I can think of...”
“Oh hell... Shut up, you son of a bitch,” Harry groaned, his hands coming forward to clutch at Lucius's shirt. “You are so... fucked in the head...”
“I am going to fuck you in the head,” Lucius hissed against Harry's neck, hands clenching his ass tightly and lifting the boy up on tiptoes so that Harry was moving with every aching thrust as their cocks rubbed together.
Harry snorted. “Who says that... Oh god... oh... Okay...” Hands falling down, Harry gripped at Lucius's hips. Fingers trembling only a little, Harry reached between them, touching Lucius's silken length and pressing his palm to the hot, hard flesh so that it would rub against his own even more. He had never felt another's dick, certainly not a grown man's and in a state where it was ready to come. He'd always assumed he'd like it, seeing as he liked guys in general. Harry didn't expect just how much he would want to suck that hard flesh, now that Lucius had put the idea in his head.
Harry did not get an opportunity, Lucius growling fiercely and lifting him up so that Harry was sitting on the sink, cold porcelain against his heated flesh making him gasp. Then Lucius was pressing the head of his cock between Harry's spread thighs. He groaned softly in the boy's ear as he wrapped his hand around Harry's exploring fingers. Then he jerked them together over his large length with long, firm strokes. Harry stared down, transfixed, knowing what was going to happen and full of anticipation to see.
“Yes...” Lucius hissed through gritted teeth, hips jolting with his release, covering Harry with wet streams of cum. Each touch of hot fluid felt like electricity to Harry, moans falling uncontrollably from his lips while he watched his red length, tight sack and trembling thighs become coated with Lucius's seed. “Come on, Potter... you're there...”
Lucius grabbed Harry's face, holding him still and forcing him to meet his blazing silver gaze. And then the man's hand was wrapping around Harry's cum covered cock, every muscle in the boy's body tight and shaking with raw need. Lucius was staring, fixated on Harry's mouth. Vaguely Harry remembered what Lucius had said about wanting to see his mouth when he came. That Lucius had meant it was just too much on top of everything else. Harry gaped nearly silent, a small, choked cry slipping free from his red lips when his orgasm hit, feeling the intense fire tear through him and then out.
Harry blearily felt his cum scald his stomach, Lucius even then guiding to ensure he got everything he wanted from the boy's body. Shudder after shudder rocketed Harry, his eyes closing as he realized he had just cum, with Lucius Malfoy, in the bathroom. He had never done... Had never even thought to do something like that...
Holy fuck. Lucius had covered him with cum and then... and then...
“Oh... wow...” Harry whimpered, his body collapsing from the magnitude of it all. Lucius held him steady, pulling Harry's face closer so he could kiss him. It was a hard kiss, sloppy and scented with sex, alcohol, and toothpaste that the man never ever used, but Harry did, every day and night. Lucius kissed him deep, tongue stealing each of Harry's gasps. The man didn't seem tired the way Harry felt, but wilder, more desperate to touch him, as if something had been unleashed with their mutual completion.
The mirror gave a sudden creak behind Harry and then fell, shattering on the tiled floor around them. Lucius growled lowly into Harry's mouth.
Harry groaned, turning his head slightly so he could drag air in from around Lucius's lips, saliva running from the corners of his mouth. “Potter, stop destroying my house,” Lucius panted against his cheek, fingers tangling into his dark hair so he could pull Harry in for another needy kiss.
Moaning, Harry opened his mouth wider, tongue tasting tongue and delving deep, before finally freeing his lips. Exhausted, sated, and very much confused as to just how safe he felt with Lucius resting against him, holding him tight in the goddamn bathroom of all places, Harry glared at the infuriating ass that kept assuming everything he did was fully intended to piss Lucius Malfoy off. “Make me.”

Mr. Adler was an older gentleman, just starting to stoop with age. His immaculately groomed form was topped with a salting of gray through dark hair. He merely tutted once when seeing Harry's scars for the first time, and they didn't speak a word of them afterwards. Although they were indicated vaguely when discussing what style of shirts Harry would like to wear. Mr. Adler was a tailor, Lucius's preferred choice for casual wear when the older wizard bothered to be casual.
“I know, but I would really just like some jeans, underwear and a few shirt,” Harry grumbled after Adler listed off another supposed fifty things required of a 'proper' wardrobe. Harry was not a proper person, and didn't care about owning a million things. “Do you guys have t-shirts? Like with pictures on them and stuff? I don't want to be wearing collars for the rest of the the school year.” And probably eternity, seeing as Harry could not bring himself to walk into a clothing store and buy things for himself. Shit, when had things gotten so out of hand?
“Mr. Potter, I understand some eccentricities are to be expected with someone of your fame and standing—”
“What!” Harry squawked, his face going bright red. “I'm not being crazy here.”
“You need a proper wardrobe, not just muggle styled rebellion,” Mr. Adler continued smoothly, his dark eyes steely but not unkind. “You're coming into your graduating year, and it is important to look the part when seeking employment.”
Harry shrugged, not really concerned about any of that. Maybe he should be. Maybe there was something wrong with him for not caring about what every other person was supposedly caring about. But he couldn't force himself to. He could only compromise.
“How about you put whatever you want in there—as long as it's not white—and just add a good dozen jeans and twice as many t-shirts, so I don't feel like a complete prat?” Harry asked, his tone of annoyance kept back to a minimum. Stripping had been difficult, even with Adler a professional and uncaring of his scars. Harry was grouchy, not having slept well and agitated by the idea of Lucius buying him clothing. The bastard should after burning all of Harry's. But Harry was not happy about anything at the moment.
“I think that is a reasonable solution.” Mr. Adler began jotting down in his notebook. “The layered look is very popular these days with young people. I think it would suit you fine.”
“Whatever,” Harry muttered, sitting with a sigh while the man continued to write away. Draco wouldn't be up for at least another hour, the boy a complete wreck in the mornings until around ten and full of caffeine. Harry really wondered how his friend thought he was doing any chaperoning at all, considering Harry usually ran across Lucius during the early hours of the day before the man went to work. Draco sure as hell had been useless last night.
Last night had been... Harry suppressed a shudder, his body tingling all over just thinking about it. He had never thought he would want something like that. Harry had known he had liked guys for a long time, but he had never really thought he would want them. Harry hardly considered himself sexual. His body seemed to not be connected to the rest of him, even less so since last summer. Since Vernon. But Lucius, a taller, stronger, and by all accounts, more powerful man, could slam Harry up against a sink and Harry wasn't afraid. Not even for a moment. With his shirt off and scars exposed. Even when Lucius had smelled of alcohol. No, Harry had been so turned on, he had wondered if he was going to faint.
That boy in the mirror—Hell, he had been a sexual creature. When Harry got lost in Lucius, he was that boy. Unafraid. Wanton. Beautiful. There was something about the man that made Harry feel safe. And when Harry was safe, he was something so much more than what he had ever been before. Harry wanted to be that boy more. Maybe always.
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. Nothing good could come of any of this. Lucius was married—To a crazy woman, at that. He had a son—Harry's freaking best friend. And the man was an arrogant jerk that thought buying Harry a wardrobe made it okay to completely ruin everything he owned. Yes, it had all been ugly and full of holes, but it had belonged to Harry as much as anything ever had. When you owned so little, not even a room to truly call your own, the things that were yours suddenly became extra important.
“Alright, Mr. Potter. You should expect the first of your clothing within three days, the rest by the end of two weeks.” Mr. Adler summoned up a duplicate of his list of articles, handing the sheet of parchment to Harry. “I will speak with your benefactor on the settling of the bill. If you have any questions, my shop's floo coordinates are listed, along with my assistants' names.”
Harry's mind reeled, staring dumbly at the page while Mr. Adler bid farewell. Benefactor? Why would the man have phrased it like that? Was Harry some sort of charity case that Lucius was taking pity on because of his homelessness and scars? Or was it more insidious than that...?
Did Adler think Lucius was buying clothes for Harry in some fucked up trade for sex?
Did Lucius think that?
Harry got unsteadily to his feet, the paper crumpling loudly as he crushed it without thinking. Harry was not a prostitute. He did not need Lucius Malfoy to buy him clothes like some whoring boy toy that chased older men to be taken care of. Harry didn't need anything from anyone, especially not from an arrogant ass like Lucius.
So what if the man was hot? So what if Harry got weak in the knees and goddamn hard every time the bastard walked in the room? That didn't give Lucius the right to anything. Not to being rude, not to burning his clothes, and not to touching him. And so what if that had felt goddamn amazing beyond belief? Fuck Lucius Malfoy, the neurotic piece of shit.
This was just another way for the man to piss Harry off, and control him at the same time. Dressing him like some child's doll—Ridiculous! Growling, Harry took off for the bedrooms, stomping up the stairs, striding down the hall and throwing Draco's door open.
“Draco, wake up!” Harry growled, moving through the door and pulling the curtains open wide. Draco gave a grumble from the bed, face quickly hidden beneath covers.
“Go away... Sleeping,” Draco said with a yawn, only to snarl, Harry pulling the blankets off of him in one move. “Potter! What the hell!”
“Did your dad mention any of this to you?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco's indignant glare.
“What?” Draco blinked at the paper Harry was crinkling at him, his eyes catching the company name at the top. “Ooh, I love these guys. They once made me—What? Why are you growling like that?” Draco asked, shimmying up the bed to get away from Harry's angry expression.
“Is he buying me off?” Harry said ferociously. “Is he trying to get into my pants by buying me fucking pants!”
“What... Father? You think he's...?” Draco trailed off, Harry watching his friend calculate like the Slytherin he was. “He could be. I wouldn't put it past him,” Draco said finally, Harry scowling at the answer.
“Do I have slut written on my forehead or something? Why would he think I'd—?”
Draco raised his hand in a pacifying gesture. “Harry, not in that way. He's just used to being able to do pretty much anything. That he bought you clothes to replace the old ones was just selfishness on his part. Likely because he wants to... Well, you know...” Draco trailed off with a frown. “He's probably motivated by wanting in your pants, but I doubt he just assumes you're going to feel obligated to screw him for the clothes. He knows you have your own money.”
Something tense and sick feeling inside of Harry loosened at the words and he sat heavily on Draco's bed. It had hurt. Not just embarrassment, but outright hurt to think Lucius would think of him in such a way. “You're sure?”
“Pretty sure. I mean, he's been very different lately... but Father just has too much class to extort you for sex.” Draco gave Harry a long side glance, Harry catching it and blushing while looking away. Harry really didn't need to be extorted for Lucius to get into his pants.
Clearing his throat, Draco sat up fully, handing the paper back to Harry. “So, there was one thing he did say to me that I thought you should know. Just so you don't... I dunno, get your hopes up, or something...”
Again that flutter in Harry's stomach, twisting painful in a way he just couldn't fully understand. “Yeah?” He asked, his mouth feeling dry.
Draco tilted his head side to side for a moment, trying to think of a delicate way to phrase things. “He's been seeing someone... Maybe more than one... He said it wasn't 'dating' per se, so...”
“Ah.” Harry fell quiet, that uncomfortable feeling in his stomach growing to unbearable as the silence stretched between them. Of course Lucius was off having sex whenever he could. Why wouldn't he? He was a grown man, extremely attractive, and no longer tied to his wife. What had Harry honestly thought? That Lucius actually had a thing for him? That the man might actually care? Lucius had proven time and time again that he could barely stand Harry's presence.
“I, uh, didn't know if I should tell you,” Draco said softly, hesitantly touching Harry's shoulder. “You kept saying you didn't like him and...”
“I don't,” Harry said abruptly, jerking away. “He's an arrogant ass that thinks he can manipulate me into different clothes just by burning mine and buying me new ones. He's been mean and vindictive from the beginning, and I can't stand him.” Harry wished his voice didn't sound so hollow in his ears. “Fuck him,” he snapped, getting up and walking out of Draco's room.
The next time Harry saw Lucius, he'd refuse the clothes. Whatever Lucius's intentions, Harry could not handle the idea that the man might think he could win control over Harry in this way. Lucius was his host, and had been a damn terrible one, just maliciously assuming Harry knew all the rules while never explaining them. Harry should not want Lucius to care about him. That was just insane. There was already enough crazy going around Malfoy Manor without Harry succumbing to lunacy as well.

Lucius did not come back that evening, called away to a conference. Or so Draco said, looking at Harry with something akin to sympathy. Harry wondered if the man was off getting laid, fucking someone closer to his own age, or maybe closer to Harry's instead. He hated every thought, and Lucius for making him think it at all. The bastard. Driving Harry crazy, poking at him, taunting him—Hell, touching him until Harry felt on fire. And then just walking away. Just to prove that he could. Because Lucius didn't give a fuck about Harry.
The next morning Lucius still wasn't home. In a fit of childish revenge, Harry went through the cupboards in the kitchen and took down all the boxes of tea. He carefully opened up every single packet of Lucius's favorite tea, slipping the teabags out and replacing them with the mint that Harry had bought weeks ago before he had found the other tea to taste so good. And then he hid Lucius's away in Harry's box, knowing the man would never dare touch a brand so low class.
If Lucius thought what Harry did by accident was so terrible, just wait till the man had to deal with what Harry did on purpose.
By the afternoon, Harry was trailing mud through the kitchen. Blaise and Pansy were over again to swim, but Harry was stuck in pajama pants and unhappily dry. Draco raised a brow at Harry's deliberate attempts to wipe his bare feet off on the inside of the kitchen door, but didn't say a word. It wasn't like it would be difficult for Lucius to clean. But difficulty didn't seem to equate to the level of annoyance Lucius always seemed to reach when faced with Harry's messes.
By dinner, Harry had ignored a healthy, deliciously cooked meal prepared by the house elves, for a bowl of cereal. He put the empty box next to the rest of the full ones, left the milk out on the table missing its top—which he had honestly accidentally lost—and left his dirty bowl and spoon in the place setting Lucius always sat. It remained there a day, accumulating two orange peels, three empty mugs of tea and a stack of three more bowls that had once contained cereal and ice cream, depending on Harry's mood at the time.
The third morning when Harry woke up from a nightmare, he cast a sleeping spell so that he wouldn't feel compelled to see if Lucius was back yet. His anger had left him feeling gritty inside, raw and bitter with the world. Harry didn't want to feel that way anymore. He didn't want to feel a goddamn thing at all when he thought about Lucius, and sleep was much easier than anything else.
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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy