Warning: slash! Antonin/Maelor in this chapter! You've been warned, if you don't like then don't read!

x-x

"My Lord."

Antonin Dolohov stepped into the library at the house of the Dark Lord. He was scared. He had been out of Azkaban, the place he had been imprisoned for fourteen years, for less than twelve hours. He had seen the Dark Lord a couple of hours ago and knew what he now looked like. And now, he was about to see the Dark Lord alone.

"Come here, Dolohov," a voice replied. It was much colder than the previous voice, although Antonin knew only too well how quickly the Dark Lord could turn on the cold voice if something displeased him enough before.

Swallowing nervously, Antonin stepped further into the room. It was very dark, apart from the fire crackling in the hearth. Even that was slowly dying. It was bright enough to illuminate the Dark Lord's face though, and that was terrifying. As he approached, Antonin knelt. He didn't want to stare and he didn't think he could help himself if he continued looking.

"You have served me well," Voldemort said, after a moment.

"Thank you, my Lord," Antonin responded; surprised his voice had come out so strong. He really didn't feel strong. "My apologies, my Lord… I have come to you with a… a domestic problem and I am sorry to trouble you with it…"

There was silence, but Antonin didn't dare to look up. Then Voldemort spoke. "You may stay here, Dolohov, for as long as you require. I am aware that you have lost your house, with no one to guard your assets whilst you served me in Azkaban."

Antonin bowed his head further, aware that his hands were shaking. "T-thank you, my Lord," he mumbled. "I would do it all again to serve you."

x-x

Antonin felt incredibly insignificant to Maelor Yaxley. He had been in no way a high-ranking Death Eater, in fact he was surprised that he was even granted the dark mark in the first place. He had spent fourteen years of his life in Azkaban not because he knew secrets of the Dark Lord's and would rather give up his life than to tell them, but because he did not have any secrets to tell. He didn't have enough money to bribe the correct Ministry officials, or enough influence to plead the Imperius Curse.

He was lucky to be broken out of Azkaban. He knew it was only because of the mark he bore on his arm, and he knew he had only ended up in the Dark Lord's circle of trust because of the mistakes of others. He knew this, and he accepted it. He knew that he was lucky that the Dark Lord was feeling generous to those that had suffered for him, for so many years. If it wasn't for the Dark Lord offering him sanctuary in his home, he knew he would be back in Azkaban for good. The first trip to Azkaban had lost him everything, and he was homeless and penniless.

But things went wrong quickly after the Dark Lord had granted him a home and he became friends with Bellatrix. He'd been unfortunate enough to end up on the wrong side of the battle at the Department of Mysteries and went back to prison. Sharing a cell for a couple of weeks with Maelor, after the Prophecy incident, had been extremely awkward to begin with. Antonin knew where he stood.

One night, he'd been asleep on his side of the cell and he'd been woken up by the sound of crying. He sat up, realising that it was Maelor that was crying in his sleep. Antonin had scrambled over to him, holding the man in his arms and gently rocking him to sooth his crying. He'd soon fallen asleep.

As the sun shone into their cell the next morning, they had woken up. Maelor was shocked to find himself in the arms of Antonin, but their eyes had met and suddenly they both knew. They had stayed close for a few more minutes, but when their food arrived that was their priority and they separated. Antonin hadn't made another move after that, and their had Maelor. But Antonin knew that Maelor was interested.

He remembered the day that Maelor was moved to his own cell. Antonin had cried himself to sleep every night for a week, until they were released. Then Maelor had moved back to the world of the Ministry, and Antonin had moved back to his life of mostly solitude at the Dark Lord's house, broken up by the troubled friendship that Bellatrix offered him.

When he found out that Bellatrix was in fact the Dark Lord's wife – not the widow of Rodolphus Lestrange – Antonin found a new role for himself. Bellatrix's story was so tragic, and she herself so unpredictable, Antonin felt that he should protect her. He'd witnessed some crazy attempts to get the Dark Lord's attention. He didn't want his new friend to die. So he tried to distract her when she was angry and cuddle her when she was sad. By the sounds of things, she had every right to be angry and sad. But he was the Dark Lord, unpredictable and cold. He didn't expect things ever to be the same.

And then they won the battle. By some miracle, they won.

Antonin was thrilled that Maelor had been promoted at the Ministry. The man hadn't looked at him since that night in Azkaban. Antonin didn't think that Maelor would ever look at him again, assuming embarrassment. Antonin had extended the invitation to those highest to return to Voldemort's rooms with Bellatrix to celebrate on the evening of their victory. He knew Maelor would come in order to be with the Dark Lord.

Maelor bid everyone goodnight. As he walked past Antonin, he stopped, looking at him right in the eyes. "Come home with me," is all Maelor had said. They were the first words that Maelor had spoken to him. He sounded urgent.

Antonin said goodbye to Bellatrix before he turned and followed Maelor from the room. The man grabbed his wrist, looking into his eyes as he disapparated them.

Maelor's house was small, but it was well protected. As Antonin entered the house, he could see how well maintained it was. "Would you like a drink?" Maelor asked, shutting the front door and locking it. Antonin nodded. "I don't have any of that fancy stuff the Dark Lord keeps."

Antonin smiled, slightly nervously, following Maelor into the kitchen. "I don't really like the fancy stuff," he replied, hoping his voice wasn't trembling.

Maelor smirked up at him, and Antonin couldn't help but stare. He found Maelor so attractive, with his long blond hair and rugged face. He accepted the drink that was handed to him, realising it was firewhiskey. "To the Dark Lord and Lady," Maelor said, raising his glass. Antonin raised his glass back, before taking a sip. "Let's go and sit." Antonin nervously followed Maelor into the lounge, sitting down on one end of the double sofa. Maelor sat on the other end. "I had no idea they were married."

Antonin shook his head. "She told me, by accident, a few months ago. I could hardly believe it. But they seem so close tonight."

"You seem very friendly with Bellatrix," Maelor said after a moment.

"We've both been lonely," Antonin responded after a moment. "We both needed a friend."

Maelor looked at him, carefully. "I should have approached you sooner… After… That night."

Antonin shrugged. "You've been busy," he murmured.

"It's not that," Maelor responded. "I didn't know how I felt about you. You're all I've been thinking about, for the last year… I didn't understand, I didn't know what to do about it…"

Antonin reached out and pressed his hand against Maelor's. "I've been thinking about you, too."

"You've seen something that no one else has seen," Maelor replied, looking over at him with a frown on his features. "I am never vulnerable."

"Of course you are," Antonin responded. "You're human. We all are. We need each other."

"Is that what you want?" Maelor asked. "Us to be…"

"If that's what you want," Antonin replied, looking down at his glass. He felt Maelor shift, and as he looked up he realised that Maelor was right next to him and that their lips were closing in on each other. Antonin closed his eyes as they touched, groaning slightly at the contact.

Maelor pulled back, looking at him in concern. "Are you alright?" Antonin nodded, moving back in to continue kissing. Maelor's lips were so soft, and this felt so right. They finally parted, gasping for breath. "You've suffered enough," Maelor murmured, putting his arm around Antonin's shoulders. "I'd like to ensure you don't suffer again, if you'll let me?"

Antonin smiled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I'd like that." He looked up at Maelor. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Maelor replied, his voice slightly gruff.

"That… night…" Maelor flinched slightly. Antonin swallowed, but decided to carry on. "What were you dreaming about?"

Maelor shook his head. "It's… Ridiculous, seeing how you spent fourteen years there with Dementors." He looked back to Antonin. "I was dreaming that they took you away."

"We'd never spoken much before," Antonin responded, feeling confused.

"I know," Maelor said, shrugging. "I never knew what to say. I've never admitted my sexuality to anyone. I can barely admit it to myself. How could I have told you that I…"

"You kind of did tonight?" Antonin said, smiling slightly.

"You already knew," Maelor replied.

Antonin couldn't argue with that. He turned back to his drink, emptying the glass. "I should go back," he said, after a moment. "It's getting light."

"Stay the night," Maelor said, and Antonin could tell he'd just blurted the words out. They looked into each other's eyes. "I don't want anything from you right now, apart from your company."

Antonin nodded. "I'll stay," he said, feeling nervous again. Maelor took Antonin's glass and set it on the table, before standing up and holding his hand out. Antonin took it, smiling as Maelor pulled him close and kissed him again. He followed him upstairs, noticing a small bathroom and spare bedroom on the way.

"There's an en suite through here," Maelor murmured as they reached his bedroom. Antonin nodded, stepping into the bathroom to use the toilet. As he emerged, he realised Maelor was taking his clothes off. Antonin swallowed, doing the same and undressing down to his underwear. Maelor averted his gaze as he went into the en suite, leaving Antonin to hastily get into bed and pull the covers around himself.

Maelor came out of the en suite, shutting the bedroom door before getting into bed next to Antonin. The bed was quite small for a double, so they were close to each other. Then Maelor flicked his wand and extinguished the lights. "I am hoping that the First Secretary to the Minister of Magic gets paid better than I do currently," he said after a moment.

Antonin chuckled. "I'm pretty sure the job comes with a nice mansion," he replied.

"Has the Dark Lord offered you a position yet?"

"Not as such," Antonin responded after a pause. "He said I could have whatever position I wanted."

"What do you want? I could find you a great position at the Ministry."

Antonin was enjoying the sound of Maelor's deep, gravelly voice in the darkness of the bedroom. He smiled to himself. "I'm not sure I want you to be my boss."

Maelor laughed, shifting closer to Antonin and pressing his hand onto Antonin's arm. "I'd let you get away with all kinds of mischief," he replied, running his fingers up and down Antonin's forearm. "I'd let you be late for work and leave early."

"Anything else?" Antonin asked, smirking.

Maelor pressed a kiss against his cheek. "I'd let you come into my office and hide under my desk."

Antonin tilted his head, feeling Maelor's breath on his face. "Why would I do that, First Secretary Yaxley?" he asked, grinning now.

"You can use your imagination," Maelor responded, laughing softly. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Antonin snorted. "We are in bed together, Maelor," he responded, fully aware that this was the first time he'd used Maelor's first name in front of him. His breath hitched slightly as Maelor's hand moved over and rested on his stomach.

"I am aware," Maelor said, moving his hand in small circles. "Do you prefer to top or bottom?"

Shifting slightly closer, Antonin smiled to himself. "Bottom."

"Ah." Antonin could hear the happiness in Maelor's voice at that thought. "We are well suited."

Antonin rested his hand lightly on Maelor's thigh. "I am assuming you prefer to top?"

Maelor nodded slightly. "Yes," he said shortly. "Although I have lived as a single man for many, many years. I am out of practice."

"Don't worry, so am I," Antonin said, grinning to himself. Maelor was perfect. He felt the man sit up slightly, before bending over and kissing him on the lips.

"Goodnight, Antonin," he murmured.

Antonin shivered at the sound of his name coming from the mouth of Maelor. It was such a wonderful feeling. "Goodnight, Maelor," he replied. He shut his eyes, falling asleep with a smile on his face. Maelor was his.