A/N: Hey y'all! This is the product of writer's block, so… sorry if it's terrible. RemusLucius. And we're pretending that the Yule Ball happened in their school years and that Remus is only a year younger than Lucius. :P
Word Count: 655
Enjoy!
Bored to death of the Yule Ball already, Remus reached out for the bowl of punch on one of the side tables. He was sure someone had slipped something into it long ago—was sure that one of his friends was the culprit, in fact—but found that in his current state of isolation, he didn't much care.
"I wouldn't drink that if I were you."
Evidently, someone else did. Remus turned slowly, lifting a tawny brow as he looked at the owner of the voice. His lips thinned when he realized who it was.
"Malfoy," he said curtly. "I'm not sure why you care what I drink, but know that your warning has been heard." He proceeded to pour the punch into a cup, his amber eyes falling away from the older boy's.
"And ignored, I see." A large, gloved hand covered Remus' and guided the ladle back to the bowl. "No need to be so hostile, Lupin. I only want to speak with you."
For a moment, Remus debated dumping the drink over Lucius' head and making a break for it. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to threats concerning his friends' behavior, or hear about what a disgusting half-blood he was, or any other of the usual conversations he usually had with Lucius. But then, he really wasn't in the mood for a detention, either.
Remus set his cup on the edge of the table with a sigh. "All right, then," he said dully, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"
No taunts or complaints came. Instead, something unnameable flickered across Lucius' face, but it was gone in an instant. After another moment, Lucius cleared his throat and said, "Did you come with anyone tonight, Lupin?"
Remus flinched involuntarily, reminded of the past week. James, Sirius, and Peter had all managed to find someone to go to the Yule Ball with them—and couldn't seem to shut up about it, either—but no one in the castle seemed willing to see past the scars on Remus' face.
Not wanting to seem embarrassed by the fact, Remus shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Why do you want to know?" he asked tiredly.
To his great surprise, Lucius held out a hand. "Dance with me," the Slytherin murmured, confidence coloring his voice. "I want you to dance with me."
Remus stared at the gloved appendage, heat rushing to his face. As handsome as Lucius was, this was out of the ordinary for them both. "Are you mad?" he hissed. "Everyone will see!"
Lucius chuckled, the sound reverberating from his chest. "They won't question me."
And that was just the problem. Remus ran a scarred hand through his tawny curls and bit his lip. "Malfoy…"
"I want you to dance with me," Lucius said again, and damn him, because Remus always seemed to fall for the confident boys with nothing to lose.
"Why?" Remus whispered. His resolve was beginning to slip; the desire to be wanted was so overwhelming, it almost didn't matter who wanted him. "Why me?"
Lucius' blue eyes gave nothing away. "Do you need that answered now, Lupin?" Then Lucius licked his lips and grinned just widely enough to expose the tiniest sliver of pearly white teeth. "Dance with me, Remus."
Without another word of protest, Remus let Lucius take his hand and guide him to the middle of the Great Hall. The pair attracted whispers, but Lucius drew Remus' attention away from that easily enough. The Slytherin traced a finger along one of the scars on Remus' jaw.
"Dangerous, are you?" Those blue eyes glinted with what could only be desire, and Remus hated his heart for leaping. "I like that."
Remus inhaled slowly, trying to ground himself, but he could feel his hopes begin to soar. "Shut up, Lucius. Just dance."
So Lucius guided them in a surprisingly graceful waltz, and for once, Remus just let himself fall.