Title: Jaded Amber 5/9
Pairing(s):Lucius/Remus
Word Count: 32,705
Rating: NC-17
Language: British English
Warning(s):Prostitution, OC Character death, hurt/comfort, dubious-con, switching, . Er... there's a six year age difference between Remus and Lucius (courtesy of HP Lexicon)
**See chapter 1 for full Disclaimer and Author Notes**
Summary: Lucius never would have thought that such an impulsive act of rebellion – spurred by Rabastan, of all people – would change his life so profoundly. Remus never would have thought that accepting one unlikely client would have such a profound effect on his outlook.
***
Jaded Amber 5`
Appropriately, the rain was falling. Lucius couldn't see much, for all the rain. In a way, he was glad for it. There had been a lot of chatter before; an annoying buzzing in the background that Lucius wished could be shut off. With the torrent of rain, people couldn't hear themselves think, let alone talk. There was no one beside him. His father had been cleared of charges yesterday, due to the fact that the aurors had taken down his wards and entered their home without warning. He'd defended himself, not knowing they were there for official ministry business and, therefore, had not thought to ask for a warrant before asking them to leave.
It was ridiculous, but that's what their solicitor was paid for.
Abraxas had left him to speak to a group of men by a tree. Likely the same group of men who'd sparked the need for a raid in the first place. Lucius didn't know who they were, didn't care either. One of them, standing in the middle of them it seemed, was staring at him. The rain fell around them and his dark hair and eyes stood out on his pale skin. Lucius disregarded him, though he could tell the man still stared. He was soaked through, having forgotten to cast his own weather-shield charm. No one approached him, though, or tried to cast it for him. Not even Narcissa, who'd come out of duty to her future family, stood by him anymore. He didn't blame her, their betrothal was not finalised and his expression displayed – quite clearly – that he wished to be left alone. So he stood, soaked from head to toe, in his black funeral robes, his hair half swept up in a ribbon, like his mother always asked of him; to appease his father. She never asked for much from him, so unlike others he had in his life. If it was the least he could do to make her happy, he would keep it that way.
A sharp pang hit his chest, something he'd never felt before. He looked up and around, convinced he'd been hit by a hex or curse of some sort. No one looked any different. Even the strange man who'd been staring at him wasn't there anymore. The group had dispersed and his father was walking back toward him. His hand rose to massage his chest. Watching his father, he could already see the harassment coming. His mother wouldn't be there as a buffer anymore. What was he going to do, now?
Another sharp pang hit his chest, this time closer to his heart.
There were pin prickle stabs behind his eyes and sudden, searing warmth encased his face and chest. His clothes felt too tight and his skin was hot and flushed. He felt overwhelmed. She wasn't going to be here anymore to help him, to laugh with him, to share secrets behind his father's back. His father, who was closer now, was frowning at him – probably at his expression – as he approached. Lucius' breathing sped up as he stared at the grave before him. The cold, white, stone coffin blocked his view. I'm never going to see her again.
He had to leave.
One halted step to the side, then another and Lucius was steadily walking away and ignoring his father's calls. His hand was still on his chest, absently pressing hard and rubbing it as he tried to get his mother's mischievous laughter out of his head. He needed it to stop, he needed it to go away, and he needed to see her saucy wink and grin disappear before he completely broke down in front of this large group of strangers. The last time he'd seen her wink like that had been in the Manor kitchens. Her hair had been out, with her long curls dispersed around her shoulders. She'd been leaning on the counter as a house elf made her some breakfast behind them on the stove.
Why was I in the kitchen?
Her light scandalous laughter echoed in his mind, even as her hand reached out to shake someone's hand behind him. She looked up at him."I like him."
A deep breath forced its way into his lungs as he gasped. In his mind, his mother's smile became radiant.
Lucius stopped walking. Remus.
His father's hand closed on air as, suddenly, Lucius found himself apparating away from the Malfoy Manor Cemetery to a plush green hillside overlooking a forested area.
It wasn't raining in Edinstowe.
Remus smiled at the weather report on the television before he switched it off. The sun, though not bright, was still around behind the clouds somewhere, but it was definitely not raining. The small house was empty now, since his aunt took her minibus the day before to camp out at Glastonbury Fayre. She'd told him to be good and not eat anyone who wasn't breaking in. He'd smiled because he knew she was only being herself. Unapologetic and frank. He loved her for it and the fact that she always gave him space, even though this was her house. She was a muggleborn, like his father, but seemed to have a more relaxed version of John Lupin's childrearing guide. She'd left with her friends, exclaiming about someone called Peter Gabriel, and disappeared, saying she'd be back on the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth.
He shook his head as he stood at the sink to wash out his plate, his eyes momentarily distracted by the vial of Wolfsbane Potion on the kitchen counter. Padfoot had been by earlier to drop it off. He tried to convince Remus to let him stay, but Remus would have none of it. It didn't matter if his wolf behaved better with other animals around. He'd have to get used to being on his own eventually. He'd come up here to 'find himself', so he could hardly do that if his friends were there to distract him. Letting go of those thoughts, he focused again on the plate he'd been washing for a couple of minutes and ruefully rinsed it. He'd promised himself he was going to keep the place clean. If his aunt came home to a clean home, it was more likely she'd let him stay another time. At least he'd managed to pay all the house bills in advance before he'd left. He didn't know if he'd be able to stay for so long if he hadn't.
Remus looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and worry, when he heard the unmistakeable crack of apparition. His head turned to the kitchen window. He looked outside to see who would be calling at his aunt's house. All her friends were with her at the festival, as far as he knew. Something gripped his chest as he stared at a head of platinum blond falling on plain, black robes. What on earth? he thought to himself as he absently dried his hands and walked to the front door to go outside.
He was just standing there, but as Remus came closer, he could hear the heavy breathing – as if he'd just been running. Remus frowned. Lucius Malfoy didn't run. Then, he noticed something else. The man's hair was soaking wet, half of it tied up with a simple, short, black ribbon and plastered to his head and robes, which were dripping rivulets of water onto the green grass. He looked so out of place, as if he'd come from somewhere wet and dreary, to stand on a plush green hillside. A very sudden shock of remembrance overcame Remus as he stood behind the man that was heaving heavy breaths outside his aunt's home. A small section in the Daily Prophet. An obituary. His eyes traversed the length of black robes before him.
Funeral robes.
Remus sighed quietly, a heartbreaking sensation of sympathy. His curiosity demanded he find out what led Lucius to him, of all people, especially after their last encounter a month ago, but, right now, he knew the man just needed some peace. He remembered when his grandfather died a couple of years ago. His funeral had been on the morning of the full moon. Remus had been angry and geared for a fight the whole day. Grief hadn't helped. His aunt had dragged him to her cottage with a phial of Wolfsbane and let him run in the woods all night. His eyes cast out on the scenery surrounding Sarah Lupin's home. He loved it here; the emptiness of his heart had been soothed by the quiet calm nature of Sherwood. He'd returned solemn, but at peace, after a full night's run. His anger had bled out into the rich dark soil as he'd howled at the moon. It always amazed him that his wolf could handle anger better than his human side.
Lucius looked as if he'd literally been drowning in his grief. He'd probably apparated before anyone had a chance to see it. Actually, it looked like he was hyperventilating. "Lucius?" he said quietly, his hand stretched out to touch his arm. It sounded like the breath got stuck in his throat. Lucius turned, grey-blue eyes pinning him in place. A swift summer breeze blew by and, though it was warm, it made the blond shiver. Remus held out his hand. "Come on. We need to get you warm." Foolishly, he'd left his wand indoors and he wasn't going to ask Lucius for his. He obviously hadn't cast a weather-shield charm, wherever he'd been, and Remus didn't know how he would take a half-blood asking him for his wand, anyway.
His hand was freezing, and Remus put him in front of the fire, bypassing the kitchen completely and moving directly to the living room. No one needed reminders of days better forgotten right now. He came back downstairs, after getting his wand, to see Lucius in the exact same position. What now? he thought in the silent room. When he was caught out in the rain, he always cast a drying and warming charm before going to take a long hot shower. Somehow, the charms just weren't enough, like how casting a cleaning charm just wasn't the same as a good long scrub. It must be the muggle in him. Thinking quickly, he pulled the man up, ignoring his passive acceptance and led him upstairs to the bathroom.
With the water running hot, it became obvious that Lucius was incapable of much more than standing still and staring at him. The material was waterlogged and, as he began unbuttoning the multitude of small buttons that went down the front, water seeped out every time he pressed and tugged. His mind couldn't help but wonder if there was a spell to undo these. He couldn't see Lucius taking a half hour out of his day standing up in front of a mirror doing this. Deep beneath the grief, he imagined Lucius found him doing it manually amusing. The look in his eyes as Remus pushed his robe off, as if he were waking up a little, made Remus feel better. The robe fell heavily to the floor in a sodden heap after he pushed it off Lucius' shoulders. The shirt and pants were easier. He had to get the blond to sit on the edge of the tub so he could tug off his boots. When that was done, he directed him towards the spray, pausing only a moment to undo the small ribbon in his hair. Remus wondered if that was the right thing to do after seeing the look in Lucius' eyes when they followed the ribbon to the counter.
As the blond silently moved into the shower, Remus picked up his clothes and carried them downstairs to the laundry room around the back. Despite them being around the same height, he wasn't sure how Lucius would respond to Remus offering him some spare clothing. He could dry the clothes in his hands, but... did Lucius really want to put them back on? Remus dried them anyway and, using a hanger, he hung them up on the line above the washing machine to keep the shape of the fine wool and cotton. As he passed through the kitchen to the stairs, Remus wondered if the man had eaten anything.
Though the hot water had done some good, Lucius still felt a chill in his bones as he stepped out of the shower. He was still wet, since he'd left his wand in his robe trousers. If his father could witness this, he'd go red with anger. But his father was not here. Exiting the bathroom he looked up and down the short corridor. There was nothing on the left, since that only had a window overlooking some trees. He walked to the right instead. The walls were painted white, probably to get the maximum of light into the cottage. It was small. Very small compared to what he was used to, but the closeness of the walls, instead of making him feel trapped, felt... pleasant. It was warm in here and, most likely, the atmosphere Sabine went for on her annual decoration stints.
He almost laughed to himself, until he realised those things wouldn't happen anymore. He'd probably never set foot in the 'Spring Room' again. He found Remus sitting in his room, watching a piece of the furniture with moving pictures that was making noise. It sounded like talking. Next to him, there was a plate with a sandwich and a cup filled with a steaming brown liquid. When Remus spotted him in the doorway, he waved him inside and pointed to a very soft and worn in pair of pants. They had a fleece lining and felt very soft and warm against his legs. After putting them on, he accepted the invitation to sit. He knew the food was for him, but he couldn't stomach to look at it, let alone eat it. He turned it away, but Remus didn't look upset by that. In fact, he looked like he understood.
In the dead silence, Remus had no idea what to say. Normally, he wouldn't need to say anything. Normally, they'd already be too busy to say anything. But now it was awkward. With what happened to Lucius' mother and what happened last month, Remus would think he'd be the last person Lucius would come to. He was very confused. He looked down to his comforter, his hands running softly and aimlessly over the material. He recognised it. His mother bought it for his aunt a couple of years ago. Pushing that thought aside, he noticed the point of Lucius' wand on his nightstand and picked it up. He turned to Lucius to see he was still staring at nothing and placed a hand on his naked shoulder to get his attention. The blond stared at the wand in his hand.
"Your hair is still wet." Lucius continued to stare for a moment. Without saying a word, he ran his hands through his hair, now past his shoulders, and Remus watched as the strands dried instantly. He looked down at the wand again and then replaced it on the nightstand. It obviously wasn't needed. "I didn't know you knew wandless magic." Though, he supposed, if anyone could do it, it would be a Malfoy. When he received no answer, Remus touched Lucius' shoulder again. "Come on, you need to rest." He tugged down the quilt they were sitting on as he pulled the man down. Lucius collapsed sideways and lifted his hips to allow the quilt to be moved to cover him.
Lucius' thoughts were still a jumbled mess that he didn't have the energy to sort through. He pushed some of his hair back behind his ear and tried to bury his face into the pillow. He could feel a hand on the small of his back, making circles there to calm him down, and another in his hair. It was working. He was so tired. His eyes shut, and when they opened later, the hands had stilled, but rested where he'd left them. He was still dead tired, but the setting sun was making patterns in the trees that danced on the walls. That empty space was still there. He knew if he were to scream into it, the sound of grief would only echo. He needed to drown it out, because he knew he couldn't mend it.
Remus shifted behind him. The heat of him moved behind Lucius' back and gave him a moment of pause. The common material of his shirt was soft and, as it shifted and slid along the nerve endings of his back, it made his skin tingle. It was odd. The arm on his waist was heavy and, though Remus was still obviously asleep, his hand moved up once and then further down than it had been before. Lucius shut his eyes and scooted backward a bit. The unmistakeable feel of an erection making him pause one more time. This was dangerous ground he was crossing. When Remus then sighed in his sleep, a long puff of hot air danced over his neck. He shivered, it was sensitive and it made him have to turn his head inward to avoid waking Remus up. He did, however shift backward again, which gave him a shock of surprise.
He was wriggling. It was embarrassing. To add to it, Remus seemed to have woken a little as his hand was now consciously stroking up and down his outer thigh. Do it, please, he thought to himself. He wouldn't dare say that aloud. He couldn't. Instead, he took Remus' hand and pulled it around him, pushing it down into the pyjama pants he'd been given earlier in the day. He needed to feel something – anything– different to how he felt at the moment. When he breathed out again, he could still feel the tangible hole in his chest, like there wasn't anything there. He knew he couldn't fix it.
But he could damn near try to ignore it.
As the hand around his cock tightened and began to stroke him, Lucius reached to the waistband of the pyjama pants and pushed them down. He felt Remus pause, but placed his own hand over the brunet's to stop him from pulling away. He couldn't stop, not now, and Remus had to understand that. He heard a sigh and knew Remus did understand when he told him he needed to get on his knees.
The last time– the last time had hurt; Remus had been close to turning, as it was the full moon. His anger hadn't helped, and nor had Lucius' words of contempt. He never thought he would want to feel that pain again. All he could think now, as he rose to all fours, was that he'd give anything to just not feel the way he did now. His movements were empty of want or need, though he knew he was trembling a little. The spell Remus used made him jump, especially when a cold layer of gel entered him. He'd not been expecting it so soon, or the finger that pushed its way in shortly after. Lucius groaned as it began to pump in and out and a small distracting kiss was delivered to the middle of his shoulders. Well, this was different. His breathing sped up and when a second finger was added, it momentarily stopped as he arched upward to the sharp intense sensation they delivered when they grazed against the small bundle of nerves inside him. Yes, very different.
It wasn't hurting him the way it had last month. Actually, it felt so good that he instantly wanted more, and that surprised him. His mouth hung open as the blunt head of Remus' cock entered him and he navigated his hand around Remus thigh to pull him in, so he was fully immersed in his body. They paused for a moment and as Remus held himself there, he put his hands on either side of Lucius' where they rested on the bed for leverage and gently kissed his shoulder again, kiss after kiss after kiss, soft, warm, but intense. Lucius could feel Remus' hard cock fully lodged inside his body, joining them together. His own cock hung between his legs, pulsing urgently, to his surprise. Very slowly, he moved his hips forward and back again, testing his limits. Remus soon joined him, pulling out and gliding back in again. The movement was smooth and controlled, and Lucius could feel an intense heat filling him from the pit of his stomach, spreading out across his abdomen and back to the base of his spine. It made him tingle.
Under his lips, Remus could feel the smoothness of Lucius' skin, the softness of his hair dancing over and tickling his hands when Lucius dipped his head down to push back against him. This was different, miles away from their usual sessions, last month aside. Before, he could tell Lucius usually went for pleasure, his own more than anything else, but not this time. There was urgency to his movements, a quiet desperation. Lucius was seeking something... else. A distraction. All that mattered was the heat, and the friction, and the feel of Remus' body aligned with his own, because it was taking it all away, it was removing Lucius from the pain he'd been feeling for days. Remus reached for the blond's cock again to find a hand already wrapped tightly around it. Instead of leaving Lucius to it, he entwined their fingers and worked with him to bring Lucius to the edge.
When Lucius came, Remus saw a creature he'd never witnessed before. Lucius actually keened, his body tightening and bowing. He could see, over his shoulder, his hand tightening into a fist in the pillow. His arse squeezed so tightly around him that Remus had no choice but to follow him over. He came, hard, and caught himself just before he collapsed totally.
Lucius focused on the pillow he had his fist clenched in. The dead empty feeling was back, not even minutes after he'd come. He realised then that nothing he did would make it go away, nothing short of his mother coming back.
Remus saw Lucius' head dip down after he came and his hair fall forward to obstruct his face even more. A heated forehead rested on his hand just moments before something hot and decidedly wet hit his wrist. Remus leaned forward a little to see, but didn't need to when he felt the man beneath him shake. He stroked a hand down his back and turned his head inwards to rest his nose in the juncture between Lucius' neck and shoulder just as a sob wracked his frame.
"She's gone, Remus." Short of groans and gasps, Remus hadn't heard him speak. His voice was hoarse and ragged. He felt a heavy hand clench his heart.
Remus nodded, not moving his head from where it rested. He circled the blond's waist with his free hand. "I know. I'm sorry."
Lucius' shook his head as another sob escaped him. "She's not coming back. She's gone."
Tugging a little on his waist, he tried to get the man to lie down. "Shh," he murmured into his neck and then his ear as Lucius lay down on his side. "Get some rest." His hand trapped under Lucius' body now, he broke free of the entwined grip Lucius had on his left hand and pulled the quilt back up over them. Now all he could see of the blond was a head of blond hair and the tip of a flushed pink ear that stood out in the middle of it. He pulled the blond strands back and finally rested his hand back where it had been before.
"There's nothing I can do, Remus, nothing. She's gone." The voice was devoid of hope, and Remus felt horrible for it. He could see the last of dusk falling. Moonrise had already begun and he hated even more that he would have to leave the man alone in a couple of hours.
tbc...