A/N: Things are shitty and I'm sad right now so I wanted Bella and Roddy to be a happy little assassin couple. Also have some head canon Vietnamese!Bellatrix. So please, read, let me procrastinate on studying for exams. I'm pretty happy with this actually and I thought we could all use something to warm our cold, deadened hearts in this bitter weather. I'm as insecure as always so if you want to drop me a review, I won't object.
Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable.
Heat clouded him, surrounding him in a cocoon. The gaps in the thick velvet curtains shone with the yellow rays of sickening warmth and dust floated and danced in the light, a visual reminder of just how stuffy the air was. Heavy red furs and thick duvets had been all but thrown to the end of the bed and now only thin white sheets lay over him. Over him, under him. They surrounded him completely at this point and the sweat pouring from him was sticking the sheets to his skin, tangling the sheets between limbs.
August had never been so warm, Rodolphus thought. The passing weeks had been stifling. He almost never wore a cloak any more and his pension for wearing dark colours was becoming problematic. Every Death Eater meeting in the last few weeks was spent casting cooling charms and sitting in cool leather chairs for movement was far too exhausting in the heat. He sighed, and rubbed a hand over his sweating forehead, plastering the red hair back to his head where it was falling out of a bun.
He supposed the great lengths of thick, dark red hair that spent its days lay down to his hips in a thick braid didn't help matters, but his hair had not been cut since he was a boy and he liked to look like his father. The hair was symbol of the Lestranges. He sighed and blinked the last remnants of fatigue from his eyes. Yes he was awake; awake and warm.
He stretched his naked limbs and flicked and kicked at the light sheets until they too were of the heap that lay at the end of the bed. Now clad in only black boxers, he rolled onto his side to face the curved back of his wife.
She had also kicked the sheets off herself at some point in the night. Her near translucent skin was covered by the silk of her short, black nightgown which had also ridden up in her midnight thrashing to reveal half of her round, bare arse. Rodolphus smiled to himself and shifted closer to her, despite the dizzying warmth of her body. He reached his hand out and very gently slipped the material further up her back to reveal the rest of her round, pert bum. He grinned again and shifted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, spooning her curled up frame from behind.
Spitting her hair out of the way of his mouth, he swept the mass of black curls out of the way of her neck to kiss the skin beneath her jaw. Her brows furrowed and she shifted uncomfortably in her sleep. He continued to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and jaw, keeping an eye on her face to make sure she wasn't awake enough to kick him.
She raised her hand to softly bat him away in her sleep as she shifted away from him, but he only tightened his grip on her lithe body, pulling her flush against his chest. Her gentle batting became sharp slaps as she awoke. "Go away, Rod." She mumbled, her voice croaky.
"I can't." He whispered in her ear. "It's so warm. I might die." He said earnestly.
She turned her head back to look up at him. "That'd be a shame." She said, an eyebrow raised. "Finding a new duelling partner'd be awful." She whispered back softly.
He kissed her neck again before burying his nose in the sharp, rosy scent of her skin and taking a long inhale through his nose. "You'd miss me." He whispered on his exhale. She yawned and stretched the sleep from her muscles, her arms extending toward the head board and her back arching against his body. She smiled upon feeling the half-erect bulge rubbing against her bare arse.
She turned to look at him again. "You're right."
"You'd miss me?" His voice perked up.
"It's far too warm." She said, correcting him and rolling over to face him completely. She lifted her hand to his face and gently raked her fingers through his thickening beard, her nails leaving a satisfying scratch against the scruff. "I think we need to trim this." She whispered to him softly.
He smiled indulgently at the feel of her hands on his face. "I think we need a bath." He whispered back.
She nodded at him in agreement and rolled back over, away from him. He cursed himself for giving her a reason to move away. He sat up as she got out of bed, the nightie shifting back over her body to the the middle of her thigh, and watched as she started in the direction of the en-suite.
His mind was slow and lazy. He felt a content daze wash over him as the heat claimed his acute senses, leaving him with only a warm serenity settling in his bones. He followed her slowly, letting his eyes slowly drift closed and open again with every blink. His bare feet found the obsidian tiles of the bathroom and the smell of his body wash meandered over to his nose.
"Bath should be ready in a moment." She said, slowly moving around the room to retrieve the shaving foam. She pulled out a large leather pouch, untying the wraps and unfolding the pleats until he could see the glinting silver of two straight razors, each laden with a swirling, blackened pattern.
She moved back toward the bath and turned off the taps, the sudden lack of glugging water leaving a calm stillness in its quiet wake. He turned to the bath and let his arm dangle through the water, testing the coolness. Stripping himself of his boxers, he stepped over the edge of the claw footed tub and settled his back against the edge, the water immediately cooling the boiling of his august-heated blood.
Bella brought a bowl of water over to him and placed it on the wide rim of the bath. Settling herself on the bath's edge, she took the shave brush in her hand and coated the bristles in the thick white cream. "C'mere." She said, softly. Gesturing for him to turn his head in her direction. She moved the brush over his jaw, painting his face and neck with foamy, white soap.
Replacing the brush and picking up the straight edge, she moved closer to him, holding his chin still.
"Wait." He said softly as she brought the razor inches from his cheek.
She sighed, eyebrows furrowed lightly. "What?"
He reached his arm up to her, winding it around her waist and tugging on her nightie slightly. "C'mere." He said softly, mimicking her words from moments before and carefully pulling her down from the edge of the bath until she slipped into his lap with a light splash of water. Her nightie hung around her, the lacy edges floating in the cool water, a heavy wetness bleeding half way up the satin.
He moved his hands toward the fabric that sat just under the surface of the water and pulled upwards, taking it clean off her, now naked, body and throwing it away without a glance in its direction. "Better." He said, his voice somewhere between a soft spoken sound and a whisper.
She pursed her lips, concentrated on the task at hand. Taking the straight razor back from the edge of the bath, she razed the blade to his cheek once again and took hold of his chin to keep him steady.
She stroked the razor across his cheek, the foamy soap gathering the bristly hairs of his beard with ease. His eyes rolled back in his head, closing, and he sat further into the curve of the tub, the water swirling and cooling his naked skin.
She continued in languid strokes over his cheeks, the blade gliding against his skin, smoothing it down. She watched with concentration and narrowed eyes as she kept to the intricate pattern of the beard, the trim of the hair curling in elegant waves against his cheek, the coppery russet of the hair glinting in the light and giving a fiery impression.
He opened his eyes slowly again, and brought his hand up to rest on her hip, moving his thumb back and forth across wear her body curved into a muscular waist. His eyes traced the contours of her body, falling along the deep terracettes of her abdominal muscles. Her pale skin was arranged in contours of muscle; her torso dipping in an impressive six pack, a light 'V' drawing downward from her hips. A mixture of intense Knights of Walpurgis induction training and Bella's own desire to embody an impressive power stuck to her form like a second skin; she was a spectacle. A naked spectacle. His eyes travelled higher and settled on the rising and falling of her chest, every inhale raising her large breasts, sitting on top of the hardness of her pectorals. Between her breasts, across her sternum lay the tattooed head of a viper. The tattoo stretched from her chest and over one shoulder, the thick body of the serpent, twisting and snaking down her back and around her right leg until it reached the tip of a tail at her ankle. The viper hissed contentedly at him and Rodolphus knew that Bellatrix was feeling the pleasant calm. He felt heat behind his eyes as he watched her taught nipples in the stuffy August air and he licked his lips unconsciously. His gaze continued to roam over the form of the impressive biceps in her poised arms, the muscle dipping beneath the skin to make way for the large deltoids. He watched her strong arms - the left coloured black with their Lord's mark - and was reminded of the power in them, of how they had thrown colours of death from her wand and drawn knives across innocent throats. She was a powerful and muscular woman and he thought of how easily she could slip and nick his skin right now.
The raw power of her lithe body managed to penetrate the fogginess of the heat and awoke something within him, making him all the more aware of how his naked wife sat straddling his equally naked lap. He tried not to smirk against the blade on his cheek. His gaze continued to roam her face, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline gave way to soft skin and hollow cheeks. Her eyes, currently a soft grey, were narrowed in concentration, making their wide, heavily lidded shape all the more exquisite. Long, silken, black curls brushed his fingertips at her waist and he watched her soft pout and furrowed brow as she continued to scratch the razor across his chin.
Rodolphus recognised the full lips on her face to belong to Druella Black, but her eyes were those of her father, Cygnus. Heavily lidded and smoky grey, tracing back to a long line of noble Vietnamese heritage. Those eyes were replicated in every Black he had met but only Bella's creased like that; only Bella's could scorn and smirk and storm like they did.
She brought a cloth to the blade from the edge of the bath, wiping away the soap and beard, only to continue once again. Shave, wipe, repeat.
This didn't happen often for them. Nightly muggle raids and daily meetings and weekly work reports made this tranquillity, this calm, a complete and utter rarity for them. His hands squeezed her hips in an attempt to convince himself that they were here, that this was real.
She wriggled slightly against his grasp and he could feel himself harden again beneath her. She looked down at him, scorning him with a look but the corner of her mouth was upturned in a delicious smirk. Her delicate fingers found his jaw once again and she moved the razor over his top lip, using short, sharp strokes to work away at the delicate line of hair.
Her nails, claws painted black, scratched over his cheek, ridding his face of any excess hair. She took his chin again and tilted his head up. Picking up the razor, she brought it to his neck. This was the point he held his breath. Tensing his chest and contracting his stomach, he kept as still as possible so as not to anger the beast upon him, the beast that had the almighty power to slip and take his life just like that, to make the incision and watch the crimson treacle leak from his throat.
He felt the sharpness against his throat and closed his eyes tightly. And then he realised that the sharp sting was only cold metal. He exhaled shakily, slowly, as Bellatrix continued to drag the blade leisurely up his neck, stopping only to wipe the razor and continue. Her deft fingers turned his head each way to expose the last of the offending hair to her knife.
Finally finishing, she exhaled softly and dropped the blade into the large bowl on the edge of the tub, she looked back at him. "There. I can actually see your face now."
He smirked. "I'm glad." He said, rubbing his hand over his jaw, feeling the raw skin. "Thank you."
She leant toward the edge of the bath once again and sat straight up with a bottled potion. Uncorking it, she spilt some of it onto her hands. She replaced the bottle and starting rubbing the oily potion onto his cheeks, his face scrunching against the pain of aftershave. She looked up at him. "Oh shush, you baby."
"I didn't even say anything." He said, offended.
She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "You didn't need to."
"It hurts." He said softly in defence. She laughed at him with a throaty chuckle, her eyes soft. She brought her hands up to his thick red hair, running her fingers through it and tugging at the bun at the back of his head until it came loose and she smiled, bringing great sheets of red hair to the front to lay on his chest.
A satisfied smile graced her face and she looked like a child playing with a new toy. He moved his hands over her hips and reached around to grab her arse with one hand, the other hand moving up her back pushing between her shoulder blades, pulling her body against his chest. "You are so sexy, did I tell you that?" He whispered with a smirk, his lips inches from her face.
She chuckled again. "You did, yes. But I'd rather you show me." She whispered back.
He could feel the heat of her breath against his mouth. "Pleasure." He said, the word all but swallowed as he brought her closer to kiss her soundly on the lips.
A fever built between them, their own heat seeping out into the air around them, becoming one with the summer. Wrinkles worked into their skin and ringlets tightened in their hair as they spent hours touching and caressing and moaning in the water, working their way to exhaustion in the thick August heat.