A/N: I don't own, but wish I did.
This is an AU, where Severus and Lucius had sexual affairs while Lucius was still and school, and married once graduated. They stayed friends, despite their love for one another.
Also neither is a death eater until later, moy later. C: AU. DO IT.
--.--
It was a dark night in Spinners End. Inside one of the thin, old houses, rested a man surrounded by his books. His hair hung over his shoulders in black sheets, and eyes of equal ebony reflected his fire brightly, almost comically, seeing as whom it was those eyes belonged. He reclined quite easily in a large, over-stuffed red wing-backed chair, ankles crossed out in front of him on the floor. He pleased himself with the soft burn of fire whiskey, once again letting the glass of the glorious liquid splash across his tongue and down this throat. A hum rattled low in his throat, and his ebony eyes slipped closed.
Outside, in the rain, drifted quite the ominous sight. A figure, tall in fact, glided almost unnaturally quickly down the sidewalks, a rhythmical 'click' matching footsteps. This figure was clad in a heavy traveling cloak, hood pulled up completely to nearly encompass his entire head, ends whipping angrily at his heels. The rain spilled off the gentle black fabric like it was made of rubber, leaving it to look almost completely dry.
This figure rounded the corner, at Spinners End, feet coming finally to a halt in front of a modest wooden door. A soft shuffle of cloth, and a long, pale hand rested it's palm against the door. Behind him, there was a flash and crack of lightly, eyes the color of the storm above him glittered for a moment, staring down at his manicured nails. Again his face fell to darkness, and the figure remained silent and still for some long amount of time. He was young, he was married, his son was only days old. The fingers curled against the wood, trembling. He shouldn't be here. He promised, he knew, but he shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't be here.
He knocked anyway.
And that's how it began. Two years after Severus had graduated, eight years after Lucius had been married, their sexual affairs again were re-ignited that night. And that was all it had planned to be. They had decided, years and years ago, that Lucius loved Narcissa. But he didn't. They had established they were just friends. But they weren't. When Severus invited Lucius in, it was a silent conversation. Severus had lowered Lucius' hood, and they merely stayed like that. Their eyes met, and the decision was made. In a whirlwind of clothing, awkward, off-memory touches, and broken whiskey bottles, Lucius and Severus became one body again. They moved with familiar ease, bodies shifting, rolling and sliding against one another. Their love making was a silent affair, both terrified that a sound may wake them, returning them to their own beds, one solitary, one unfitted. And so, their joining went on without sound, eyes never closing, never leaving the other pair. It was painful, for both, physically and mentally. So long, and so rough. They had to make it feel, to make marks, leave scars on the other. It was hard, brutal, but gentle as their hearts go. They no longer felt like themselves, there was no Severus Snape, no Lucius Malfoy. They were a tangle of limbs, fast heartbeats and sweat.
Lucius left the same way; silent, reserved and daunting, pulling his cloak over his head. Severus, as stone-faced as he ever was, watched his evening lover vanish into the dark as he blended in magnificently. As he stared into the still evening, the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. He shut the door gently, returning to his chair as if nothing had happened.
He had a faint limp for three days.