Author Notes: Hello everyone, and Happy New Year!

Here's the next update after almost a year, and for that, Vine and I offer our deepest apologies. It's been a struggle trying to get the last part of this chapter ready due to RL issues. In fact, it's still incomplete so we've decided to go ahead and post what is ready. Hopefully, the next part won't take as long.

A quick recap on the timelines - the removal of the Dark Mark ritual started at midnight on Saturday. Lucius suffered from severe withdrawal symptoms on Sunday and most of Monday before finally accepting Aventine's help on Monday evening before falling asleep. This chapter starts with him waking on Tuesday morning. Enjoy :)

Appreciation: Thank you as always to Vine Verrine for hanging in there with me even though it's been one heck of a long, long ride!

- Chapter Start -

It felt like ants. Ants under his skin and through his veins, marching on tiny feet and making him want to scratch all over his body until his skin broke and he bled. Then the itchiness turned to needles of pain, and the agony started all over again.

Lucius ground his teeth, fingers clenched hard in the sheets as the very last bit of numbness from Aventine's bite faded, leaving him defenseless against the mind rending pain of his Dark Mark withdrawal. In minutes, he was floating in a sea of excruciating agony. His body burned from the inside, from his eyeballs down to his toes while a chorus of hammers attacked his skull with unrelenting enthusiasm.

The part of his mind that could still function under such torment was still determined to think ill of Aventine; was convinced he had been betrayed, and that there was some adverse side effect Aventine had neglected to mention last night. As he lay on the bed, limbs twitching and sweat running down his body, Lucius cursed himself for overturning decades of caution and self preservation to gain a few hours of respite.

Never mind that said respite had been gloriously, blissfully pain-free.

But time wore down everything, even his righteous anger. As the seconds crawled by, slowly turning to minutes and then to hours, his anger boiled and bubbled and simmered, until at length, it cooled, dissipating into weary despair, conquered by the sheer weight of his suffering.

By sunset, when the blazing afternoon sun mellowed to softer rays, slanting in through the lace curtains and gilding the yellow furnishings with soft gold, Lucius had changed his mind again. If all Aventine could offer was twelve pain free hours with his bite then Lucius would grab it and be damned with the consequences.

All he had to do was ask.

He had suffered enough being the Dark Lord's follower. He would suffer no longer, not when there was a readily available way out of this hell.

- o -

A few minutes after his faithful elves popped in to light the candles, spell his sweat away and change his soaked nightshirt and sheets, a quiet knock sounded on the door.

Lucius' heart skipped a beat, tired gaze riveted on the door as it opened and Aventine entered.

"Good evening, Lord Malfoy."

Lucius swallowed with an effort.

"Aventine," he croaked, that single word making him cough.

Aventine was at his bedside in the blink of an eye, a pale hand hovering over the jug on the nightstand.

"Water?"

Lucius shook his head, wincing as the tiny movement increased the tempo of the incessant pounding in his poor head.

"I trust you slept well last night?"

A lifetime ago. Lucius nodded and winced again.

"I have... a request."

Aventine lowered himself into the chair, red eyes fixed on Lucius.

"As long as it is within my power," he promised.

Lucius licked at his cracked lips, aware that the promises made to himself this morning were nothing but dust once more.

"I want you to bite me," he rasped, "every twelve hours until my symptoms become bearable."

Aventine's red eyes widened in surprise, and he looked for once, at a loss for words.

"Lord Malfoy, I am honoured by your trust, but there is... a risk... involved with every bite."

Lucius' heart lurched at that, old prejudices rearing up in an instant.

"You promised not to change me!"

Aventine shook his head.

"You need have no fear on that score. It isn't that," he said and hesitated, gaze sliding away for an instant. "But a vampire's bite brings other... side effects."

Lucius frowned. It was almost impossible to think past the hammers making merry inside his head, one particularly evil one between his eyes.

"Effects?"

Lucius could swear it was merely due to the wavering candlelight that Aventine looked almost... self conscious.

"If my master Hawa showed you the place where they feed from the villagers, I am sure you know what I mean," he said.

Unbidden, that same memory arose again in Lucius' mind, of what he had glimpsed between those curtains. Amidst the monotonous pounding in his head, the rhythmic motions of the female vampire's hand and the echo of her donor's moans took on a more earthy, sensual aspect.

It was part of the agreement with their village, Hawa had said. Lucius couldn't deny that the man didn't appear forced in any way, quite the opposite in fact. Then again, was he in the right mind to protest anything while he was being fed on and pleasured?

The part of Lucius' beleaguered mind that was fixated on getting rid of his pain insisted it was a small enough price to pay - forgoing his dignity to escape his suffering - while another part wondered if he was getting in over his head.

"I accept," he said. The sudden flash in Aventine's eyes prompted him to hastily add, "I trust you would not take advantage of the situation?"

"Not unless you wish me to," the vampire lord promised with a smile, fangs gleaming in the candlelight. It was meant to reassure, but it sounded more like a warning.

- o -

Twelve hours later...

Pale lips parted on a sigh as their owner slowly surfaced from deep slumber. Heavy eyelids fluttered, lifting just enough to catch a glimpse of bright red before closing.

Lucius' eyes snapped open again a heartbeat later, heart lurching in his chest. That splash of crimson was a silk shirt half unbuttoned, revealing an expanse of alabaster skin and a pink, half hidden nipple. His gaze traveled up a long white neck until he was staring in bafflement at the sleeping face of Aventine just a foot away, black tresses spread on the pillow next to his.

When the cadence of Aventine's deep breathing changed, Lucius hurriedly closed his eyes, feeling exceedingly dim right after for pretending to be asleep, knowing that Aventine could hear the change in his heartbeat. Still, he persisted, eyes shut tight and heart hammering against his ribcage.

Moments later, he heard the rustle of silk followed by an indrawn breath. The mattress shifted as if Aventine had sat up, and Lucius peeked through half closed eyelids. In a flash, he thought to reproach Aventine for his presumptuousness, for having dared to sleep in his bed. Yet no words came out.

A white hand pushed back a lock of ebony hair before Aventine looked down at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Good morning, Lord Malfoy."

Lucius had no choice but to open his eyes.

"Aventine," he acknowledged, still feeling disconcerted. He had lost count of the number of times he had woken beside a stunning brunette (although his preference ran to blonds), but this was a first on more than one account; Aventine was a male, and a vampire.

Strange bedfellows indeed.

"I trust you slept well?"

"Yes." Already Lucius could feel the return of those bothersome twinges that signaled another twelve, precious, pain free hours were coming to an end. Accompanying it was the sudden urge to cover himself, a feeling so very alien not only to this situation but his very nature.

"I'm glad to hear that," Aventine replied with his usual courtesy. He looked at the window behind Lucius, red eyes narrowed against the soft morning light.

Lucius watched him with wary eyes.

When Aventine bit him two nights ago, he hadn't felt anything but unmitigated, profound relief before sinking into deep slumber almost immediately. But last night, after his suffering vanished, he had felt the stirrings of something he had not felt in a while. It was as sudden and disturbing as it was breathtaking and prickly.

Pinned to the mattress by Aventine's weight on his chest, and his fangs in his neck, Lucius had kept his eyes shut, jaw tightly clenched and hands fisted in the sheets. He was thankful for the heavy duvet that covered his lower half, and for the session ending soon after. He continued to keep his eyes closed when those long fangs left his neck and a solicitous tongue closed his wounds, offering only a nod when a low voice bid him goodnight. He had fallen asleep soon after, not realising that Aventine never left his side.

"Lord Malfoy, do you wish to have your breakfast before we proceed?"

"Yes," Lucius answered, "thank you."

Aventine just nodded and turned away to put on his boots before standing up. He reached for his cloak at the foot of the bed and casually swung it over his shoulders. The heavy black velvet looked incongruous against his rumpled hair and wrinkled, half buttoned shirt, like a half-hearted attempt at concealing a night of debauchery.

"I will be back in one hour," he promised, fangs flashing in a small smile.

- o -

Lucius made good use of the time to take a much needed hot bath and a light breakfast. He ignored the house elves' curiosity at his apparent recovery, save to order them not to speak of it to anyone, not even Narcissa, and that he was not to be disturbed for the rest of the day.

When Aventine entered the room exactly sixty minutes later, Lucius was ready for him, dressed in a clean nightshirt and sitting up against the pillows. The withdrawal symptoms were back in full force, and as abhorrent as the idea may have been mere days ago, he could hardly wait for Aventine's bite now. He felt outside himself, and would surely balk were he to see what he looked like now; covers gripped in his fists, a not so becoming flush on his skin, feverish for a vampire's offered reprieve.

Was this what he would lower himself to, he asked himself feebly, trembling and sweaty. So unlike his usual demeanour and poise, so unlike how anyone had ever seen him.

"Shall I proceed?" Aventine enquired as he approached the bed. "I can see you are already in some discomfort."

An understatement, but Lucius just nodded, eyes half lidded, barely noting that the crimson shirt had been replaced by a pristine white one.

Aventine sat on the bed facing him and reached out a hand, cold fingers on Lucius' chin tipping his head to the left, exposing the right side of his neck. Lucius took a deep breath, taking in Aventine's wintry scent mixed with some herbal shampoo, feeling that part of his neck tingle in dreaded anticipation. Not only that, the points where Aventine touched his face with his fingertips were also tingling. Maybe because they were cold.

He only closed his eyes when Aventine bent his head to nuzzle into his neck, damp, freshly washed hair brushing his cheek.

The warm caress of a tongue was soon followed by the familiar sting of fangs piercing his flesh. Lucius stiffened and then relaxed, breathing out as soon as the pain subsided, submerging himself in the blissful void that followed. He relished those moments, feeling himself becoming sleepy, body now relaxed. He rode the tranquil wave, as if he was laying in the sand at the beach; soft waves lapping at his arms, legs and toes until the water turned warmer.

Red eyes flashed inside his mind's eye and the waves kept caressing him, except they now felt like hands. Fingertips, cold and spidery, touching the inner side of his knees, his inner thighs, his ribs and the swell of his buttocks.

He came back to himself, snapping his eyes open to the sight of the canopy above him, tensing when another, equally familiar sensation arose. The pain had been so acute, so disarming, he had thought relief was the only thing forthcoming, but alas...

Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore the stirring between his thighs, but without anything else to do or focus on, it was all he could think about. It was torture, but of another kind, mingled with the jarring thoughts that crashed inside his mind like a thunderstorm, telling him that this was disgusting and below himself. Decades of prejudice poised against the warm waves of pleasure inundating his senses, fighting a losing battle.

Time slowed down, measured not in seconds, but in the slow, insistent throb of his flesh as it swelled and filled until he was hard enough to wonder if he dared to address it with Aventine still latched onto his neck. As if reading his thoughts, Aventine shifted, lying more completely over his upper half.

To his dismay, Lucius found his arms pinned in place by his sides. Worse still, his unexpected helplessness, instead of providing a welcome distraction, brought equally powerful but contradictory reactions.

Pride surged up within him - how dare Aventine pin him down like this! But his hips gave an involuntary jerk, like an echo of that other feeling, refuting his words, mocking him for it almost, for the spark of pleasure that erupted from that alone blinded him for a moment.

He lay there like a virginal sacrifice, in the clutches of a supernatural being, aware that were he to struggle with intent, his efforts would be futile. Aventine could do all sorts of things to him, and Lucius would not be able to stop him.

That knowledge, that feeling, was not unknown to him. It felt familiar; the quiet seduction of submission. The promise of pleasures unknown and lands unconquered.

He opened his mouth in a silent moan, his body desperate for... something, anything to ease that throbbing, tingly urge.

Then it was over, throwing him off a cliff into confusion.

Distracted, focused in the eye of the storm inside his head, he tried to regain control, gripping the sheets even harder until his knuckles showed white, clenching his jaw hard enough to crack his teeth; anything to weather the feelings settling just behind his skin, begging to come out and be caressed. He had never been one to deny himself anything, least of all that which pleased or pleasured him, but something broken and dying, maybe his pride, demanded that he ignored this. That splash of reality brought forth some common sense.

Those long fangs slid out and a tongue licked at his punctured flesh, but Lucius remained hyper focused on himself, tense and strung up, so far away that he missed the point when the wounds were closed, yet Aventine continued to lick and kiss his neck, as if yearning not to pierce, but to worship.

When the weight lifted off completely, Lucius opened his eyes to see the tip of Aventine's tongue flicking out to catch a tiny crimson smear at the corner of his lips. Aventine's white skin held a rosy tint that wasn't apparent before.

"Lord Malfoy, how do you feel now?"

"I'm fine," Lucius bit out. In his present state, Aventine's unfailing courtesy, coupled with radiant skin and luminous eyes, grated on his nerves right there and then. He fumed.

"I trust you are no longer in pain?"

"I'm not," Lucius replied, hard pressed not to order him to leave.

"Thank you," he ground out, breathing deeply in through his nose and trying to disentangle his cramped fingers from the bedsheets.

The tilt of Aventine's lips seemed to hold a trace of amusement, but Lucius didn't drop his gaze, determined not to betray the insistent throbbing of his body, hidden beneath the duvet.

"I am sure you wish to be alone now. I will see you again this evening."

After the door closed behind Aventine, Lucius waited, unmoving for what seemed another hour of torture. But after the mind-numbing pain of withdrawal, this was a horse he could ride with no problem.

- o -

The day passed like a light, cold breeze. It was pain free, and quiet, for which Lucius was grateful. But it was ripe with something else, a promise or a threat, he wasn't sure. He felt it all day, hiding under the sheets of his bed and the shadows behind the curtains; at the other end of the dining room, the prominent dark spaces behind the hearth of his room, and all the other rooms he roamed without aim.

He heard whispers, enquiries that he knew came from within him. And yet he ignored those, for a while.

He indulged in bed for a few hours, demanding for several books to read, growing piles on the bed and beside the nightstand. He ended up discarding them all, pushing the pile nearest to him away, and not one bit satisfied when he heard the thump, thump of them falling on the carpeted floor. Then he grimaced at his own childish behaviour.

With a snap of spindly fingers from the house elves, the books were banished.

Lucius yearned for that. For the thoughts poking out from behind a feeble wall he had managed to erect with Occlumency to disappear in a puff of smoke, somewhere else where they would not drill away at his resolve, at his being.

This was so unlike him. To cower from a thought, from possibilities. His behaviour since returning from Egypt was nothing short of ghastly; weak, and so far away from the Malfoy etiquette and poise.

Were his father to be alive still, he would recommend, in no light terms, a good dose of physical punishment with a pinch of his favorite spells, for a poetic touch, as he used to say with fondness. And then Lucius would surely forget his horrid withdrawals symptoms. Nothing like a bout of good suffering to remember his physical body and his mortality.

Outside, walking aimlessly on the rocky pathway of the garden, he sought sanctuary between the flowers, laying down on a flower bed. Surrounding him, swaying with the wind, moonflowers caressed his body, ruffled his hair, and brushed his fingers.

During these moments, when he should be looking to compensate his leave of senses, he only felt oddly maudlin.

He had always prided himself on many things and being self-aware was one of them. He liked to think he knew who he was, his very few virtues, and his many misdeeds. He didn't see himself as flawed; for anything he did, he did with purpose and conviction, with a strategic, well thought out plan in mind.

He prided himself in his subterfuge, and the charisma he had in spades to get his way. He had always felt satisfaction in indulging in activities that people didn't utter in polite company, whether they be the Dark Arts or the flesh of stunning young cohorts.

But that conviction, that lasted decades, cemented and growing roots inside his mind, was so horridly ripped from him when, at last, the insurmountable pain that came after he was unable to answer The Calling shook his world like a proverbial earthquake, rattling his convictions, his potential, his being. The desperation, which made him shiver and break out in a cold sweat even when he was pain free, stared at him still.

He had hit a wall, a contradictory one, for it was this one thing that would prove to be substantially dark and pleasurable, which felt oddly familiar too, as the inherent darkness in Aventine felt much similar to the pull and seduction of Lord Voldemort. And that had been his failing before.

Not only that, it was the one thing he grew up thinking was below himself. An idea so abhorrent only animals and lowly beings would indulge in.

He had wanted to believe he could adapt his principles accordingly in dire times, but they were the ones beaten into him as a child that proved to be the most difficult. Even after entering his Path of Destiny, he had had to struggle through a lot of self-introspection just to adjust his beliefs.

Was he falling into another trap yet again? Borne of his own proclivities, forever doomed to repeat them?

Deep inside his own mind, he could hear the crack of his resolve, and vowed to patch those ragged lines much later, when his emotional and physical state were not in shambles.

The barrier continued to crack, the rumbling of his thoughts raising goosebumps on his skin.

- o -

After dinner, and much to his own mortification, confusion and a wide assortment of mixed feelings, Lucius was once again ready for Aventine's visit. His pain, which was acute and poignant, felt the tiniest bit muted from the times before. He didn't know if it was because the withdrawal symptoms were finally starting to abate, or, because from behind that crumbling wall, a tingly touch of anticipation was seeping in, caressing him softly.

He mentally prepared himself for his body's reaction. Or tried to. He opted to sit in an armless, straight backed chair placed by the desk, deciding that the lesser the amount of body contact between them, the better he could control his libido.

If Aventine was surprised not to find him in bed when he entered the room, he didn't show it, but apologised for being almost an hour late as he had just finished a meeting with clan members before rushing over.

"That is fine," Lucius replied with a tight smile, his body already wracked with familiar pain, coupled with the uncomfortable position.

"I hope this is alright," he added, nodding at the chair he sat in. He was exerting what little strength he had just to keep sitting upright, and his back was already drenched in sweat.

Aventine nodded as he glided over, unclasping his cloak and letting it fall carelessly on a nearby loveseat.

"Please do not concern yourself with my comfort, Lord Malfoy. I am entirely at your disposal."

Lucius waited as Aventine went to stand behind him, cold fingertips tilting his head to the left as before. He felt the soft brush of hair against his cheek and braced himself, only to have the vampire lord straighten up and walk around to face him again.

"It appears I spoke too soon." Aventine's expression and voice were rueful. "My back would be more comfortable if we retained our previous positions."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, tempted to comment something sarcastic about not being aware that vampires were prone to trifling ailments like backache.

"But I am tired of lying on the bed," he countered with just enough regret to colour his voice, which he tried to keep steady.

Aventine regarded him with narrowed eyes, a long finger tapping his chin, and then he nodded.

"In that case, may I propose a compromise?"

Lucius gave a gracious nod only to jerk back in alarm as Aventine stepped close to him, so close he was straddling Lucius' legs, a flat stomach right in front of his face.

"What-" was all Lucius could manage before two strong hands clasped his shoulders. He felt a brief tingle of magic and then Aventine was settling on his thighs, knees on either side of his hips, his weight now negligible enough to ignore.

"I believe this position will allow us to achieve both our objectives."

Lucius stared wide eyed at Aventine, catching a glint in those red eyes as alarm bells clanged through his head, exacerbating his headache. By the time he thought to voice a protest, Aventine had already buried his face in his neck and pierced him with his fangs.

This time, the blissful void of a pain-free body was short lived, much too short lived. Lucius didn't know if it had been at least a few minutes, but to him it felt like mere seconds before his body stirred. He bit back a groan, now wishing he had sat in the velvet armchair by the bed, which would have prevented this present... fiasco.

As it was, he had nothing to hold onto other than the vampire lord, or the seat of his chair. He opted for the latter, elbows locked and fingers pressed against the underside of his seat, his breathing increasingly shallow.

Once again, time slowed down as his body tightened with need. It seemed like Aventine was taking his own sweet time to impart his saliva into his bloodstream.

Lucius heard the last resonating fall of his walls with a resounding gust of wind, and he stared inside his mind's eye, as if it was Fate, at the last standing rock, lonely and pulsing red with an image printed in the deepest black.

He saw it once. And once was enough.

Enough to emit a sound that came from the centre of his body, beyond desperate. With shaking hands, he grabbed onto Aventine's hips, trying to tug him forward. This dislodged Aventine's mouth from his neck, and a spurt of blood colored his neck and nightshirt before Aventine placed a cold hand at the wounds, raising his head, blood red lips and fangs near his own to whisper, "Hold still."

Lucius stared at him, almost cross eyed at the proximity, too far gone to be affected by the sight or smell of his own blood.

"I... I can't," he panted. "I need this."

"Lord Malfoy. Lucius," Aventine said, commanding, almost like reprimanding a child. Meanwhile, his hips were now right above Lucius', and he pressed forward a slow torturous inch, like he was accommodating only himself. Lucius wouldn't have believed it, if he had the concentration to think, but he was otherwise occupied, trembling fingertips digging into lean hips.

"I would not wish to break my promise to you," Aventine whispered, tilting his head forward, as if telling a secret, lips grazing, barely, Lucius' own. It was the merest touch, so light it felt like a sigh on Lucius' skin, were it not for the new smear of red on his bottom lip.

"Promise be damned," Lucius snarled weakly, earning himself another stain, this time on his upper lip.

"I need relief now," he uttered. Voice broken.

Crimson eyes widened in mock surprise and Aventine looked both self conscious and intrigued, as if the idea was new to him, never considered before. Lucius was so desperate he didn't notice how Aventine was almost playing with him, and took his words at face value. Out of his mind indeed, if he was so unobservant.

"If that is your wish then I am at your disposal, Lucius. Do as you will with me."

Aventine leaned forward to nuzzle into Lucius' neck again, a crimson hand pressing against the middle of his back, pinky finger the lowest. As he started suckling, Lucius groaned and yanked him forward, using his body to create friction over his throbbing flesh, so into his pleasure, into the new feelings evoked from the hard male body above his, to the power of those thighs and the prominent bulge digging into his lower belly, that he missed the moment Aventine pulled away and licked at his wounds, kissing them open mouthed, wet noises and pants the only sounds in the room.

When Aventine pulled away completely, Lucius was too sedated and light headed from the building pleasure in his groin to manage more than a faint protest when the enticing weight on his arousal disappeared.

A strong arm was shoved into the underside of his knees and another arm pushed him forward until he was lifted and carried bridal style towards the bed. He barely had the strength to utter, "How dare you carry me like this again?" in an urgent whisper.

"You are not an object, Lord Malfoy. I wouldn't presume to carry you with a levitation charm. Most barbaric."

Thinking was impossible right now so Lucius put aside his reply for later, not that he knew what was the appropriate reply to that. He expected Aventine to place him on the bed and lie over him like before, but Aventine's arms tightened around him before he lay down on the bed himself, boots and all, head resting on the pillow. Then Lucius was arranged atop him with precise moves, until they were perfectly aligned; chest to chest, and hip to hip.

With an effort, Lucius raised his head a few inches and looked down into those glowing eyes, utterly confused.

"What... "

"I told you, Lucius. I am yours. Do with me as you will."

"B-but-" Lucius broke off, horrified to find himself stuttering, something he had never been able to abide, whether in himself or in others.

Two strong hands clamped onto his hips this time and yanked him forward. The sudden rub of their groins brought a sharp spike of pleasure to both, forcing a shuddering gasp from Lucius and an answering grunt from Aventine.

That was all the impetus Lucius needed. Looking down into those burning eyes, he gripped Aventine's upper arms with shaking hands and began rocking back and forth, intent on pursuing his release. His limbs were weaker than a baby's, but sheer desperation lent him strength, knees bent, bare toes digging into the mattress on either side of Aventine's knees to anchor himself.

Mindless with pleasure; dignity, poise and beliefs all shattered and scattered to the four winds, he rutted against the hard form beneath his, pleasured sounds escaping both of them with each thrust until at long, long last - or so it seemed - Lucius tumbled into his release. He snarled as his body convulsed in bliss, lips drawing back as he rocked back and forth, eyes squeezed shut, milking his orgasm for as long as he could, heedless of the slippery warmth spreading between them.

Finally, he collapsed on top of Aventine, face buried against a cool neck, hot breath leaving his mouth in loud harsh pants. His body was shaking so much, he was barely conscious of a deep, breathless chuckle beside his ear.

Silence reigned for a minute, or perhaps ten. Lucius floated in a sea of well being, mind adrift as he enjoyed the the tiny ripples still making their way through his sated body, unwilling to think. Then Aventine stirred beneath him and Lucius felt gentle fingers combing through his hair.

"Forgive me, Lord Malfoy. I warned you that this could happen."

The chastisement, mild as it was, splintered the bubble Lucius was in, bringing him crashing back to earth. Embarrassment returned, bringing with it the prickling heat of shame and anger which gave him the tiniest bit of strength to raise himself on shaking arms.

The sight of Aventine's radiant face and contrite expression was unbearable, especially when paired with the still hard erection beneath his own softening one.

"Then why in Merlin's name didn't you do something about it yourself?" Lucius demanded. He only realised what he had said when Aventine's eyes widened in shock. Then the vampire lord smiled, the sight of those long fangs making Lucius' stomach twist not unpleasantly. His spent flesh gave a single throb that both of them felt.

"Why, Lucius, it would be my absolute pleasure."

While Lucius stared down at him, horrified at what he had blurted out, and the purring reply he had gotten, Aventine murmured 'Evanesco', vanishing the sweat, blood and sticky warmth from both their bodies. He then sat up in one smooth motion, cradling Lucius against his chest with a strong arm around his shoulders.

A soft 'Accio vial' was followed by the sound of a stopper pulled free and then something cool pressed to Lucius' lips.

"A standard Blood Replenisher. Drink. I will not have you fainting on me."

Still reeling at what he had said, Lucius drank it down after only a cursory sniff, perched on Aventine's lap and unaware of how far his nightshirt had ridden up, and the red eyes lazily perusing the view. Then he was lowered onto the bed with his head on the pillow this time and arranged with care, cold fingers tugging his nightshirt straight and tucking him under the duvet.

"Rest now, Lucius. Do not trouble yourself with anything. I will take care of you."

Eyes already closing, body comfortable and at peace, Lucius yawned and made no protest when something cold lightly brushed his forehead and a weight settled down beside him.

- o -

It was another first for Lucius Malfoy, waking up the next morning, not to the simpering smiles and naked curves of one of his mistresses, but the watchful gaze of a vampire lord, lying on his side beside him, head propped on one fist, and white shirt unbuttoned.

"Good morning, Lucius. I trust you slept well?"

"I - yes. Thank you." Lucius' fingers tightened on the duvet. He was on the verge of demanding why did Aventine think it necessary to share his bed - again - when he recalled his rash words from last night, and the words died in his throat. Conversely, another part of him stirred to life at the very same thought.

Aventine glanced at the windows, red eyes half lidded, before looking back at him.

"It is early still and you have an hour or so before your symptoms return. I will leave you for now as I have matters to attend to."

Sitting up, Aventine stretched with graceful movements, rolling his head from side to side and combing back tumbling dark locks with a white hand. The shirt slipped down his right shoulder, the flash of colour on his shoulder blade making Lucius' eyes narrow. Then Aventine got down from the bed and turned around, pulling his shirt back up and buttoning it.

He was not staring at him, Lucius told himself firmly after the door closed behind a smiling Aventine whose entire being seemed to glow with health and vitality. And he was not looking forward to this evening's session either.

- Chapter End -

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please put a smile on our faces via a review, even if it's just a few words. It would be much, much appreciated :)