Title: And The Rain
Author:Al
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings and plot points belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and others. I am in no way earning money or other profit from this fanfic.
Pairing: Arthur Weasley/Lucius Malfoy
Rating: R
Spoilers: None
Warnings: This is a slash fic. Male/Male relationship. A/N: Written for the LiveJournal community 100 Quills. Reviews and concrit are welcomed. Flames will be ignored.

The sheets were damp with sweat and crinkled under his exhausted body. The inn was just outside and to the east of a small Muggle town he'd never heard of and would never remember. He wasn't even sure if he was still in England.

Rain beat against the solitary window in angry knocks, wanting to break in and soak them to the core. But despite the rain there was an unrelenting heat that cooling charms cast by Merlin himself couldn't phase.

Their bodies stick together in the bed that smells of age of must of their sex and he pushes himself up and into jeans, careful not to wake the other.

He swings open the door, holding a finger to his lips as it gives a tired groan, and steps barefoot out onto the burning concrete of the parking lot. The rain immediately drenches his hair, turning it the hottest red of a flame and he closes his eyes to face the sky. It's a welcome release from the stale air of the room and he shivers as gooseflesh crosses his chest.

There are no thoughts of war of forbidden of wrongness in this place. It is just them just kisses just whimpers, just God and please and more.

And then the other is behind him, dry from a charm and their fingers entwine as the other wraps his arms around his waist. It isn't long before they are back inside and the other dries his body with his lips, kissing away the drops on his lashes, tracing the Mark in the rivoluts that drip down his arm.

Long, nimble fingers work at the button of his jeans as the silver-blonde hair of the other mixes with the rain that has pooled in the curve of his belly, turning it the hottest white of a flame.
There are no thoughts of war of forbidden of wrongness in this place. It is just Arthur just Lucius just the heat and the rain as it beats a song of longing and loneliness for them both, wanting to get in and cleanse them to the core.