Fic post!!!!!
Getting my writing chops in shape for my very special movie visit tomorrow!!! HP7.2 biatches!
A special treat for
ms_anthropy . Happiest of birthdays, my fellow Slytherin!Title: Hidden and Sought
Author:
feanix Pairing: Draco/Lucius
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco gets distracted in his quest to find Pansy Parkinson in a game of hide-and-seek
Disclaimer: JKR is God....I wish these were my characters, but they're not. It makes me sad.
Warnings: Much incest. Sexual business with a minor. I know you all love it.
It was an unseasonably warm day at Malfoy Manor and Narcissa Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson’s mother were lunching, enjoying what was probably too much French wine and gossiping together. Draco had gotten tired of pushing his food around and listening to the women haughtily chirping to one another and had begun to sigh noisily and irritatingly.
Narcissa glared neatly at her son and gave him an excuse to leave, “Draco, if you don’t wish to sit still and be quiet, take Pansy and play in the garden.”
Without replying to his mother, Draco pushed himself up from the table and began to walk away. Pansy followed him wordlessly and without invitation.
‘The garden,’ as Narcissa so flippantly called it, was not quite so common as that. Malfoy Manor was an old and large estate which was seated in sprawling grounds, surrounded by well-established garden beds which were full to the brim of perfect, rare and deadly beauties.
Stalking away from his mother and Pansy’s incessant prattle, Draco Malfoy was struck by a wicked idea. He stopped in his tracks and it took a moment for the dark-haired girl to realise that her companion, such as he was, was no longer beside her.
“What?” she asked impatiently, eager to continue her one sided-conversation.
“Hide-and-seek,” Draco replied slyly.
“OK, you hide.”
“No, you hide,” Draco purred, “and nothing is out of bounds.”
Pansy beamed and ran off in the direction of the house, shouting over her shoulder, “Count to a hundred,” as she went.
Draco began the slow walk to the shady space between the two ancient weeping willows at the bottom of the grounds. It was the boy’s favourite outdoor spot and he smiled to himself when he sat down on the cool grass beneath the long fronds of the huge and creaking trees. He figured he’d wait half an hour or so before making a half hearted attempt at maybe looking in one or two obvious places for Pansy. The blonde boy dozed lightly in the shade and enjoyed the vivid images of Pansy Parkinson running through the Manor afraid of the shadows and portraits of long dead Malfoy ancestors.
Time oozed away slowly and Draco supposed he ought to make some effort to find Pansy, though he hoped that if he waited long enough she’d just starve to death. Or get bored and leave.
He couldn’t find her in the few places he lazily checked in the gardens; she wasn’t in the clutch of oleanders in which Draco used to hide when he was little, and she wasn’t sitting in the boughs of the curious and creepy tall dead tree one could see from every corner of the property. The slim boy decided to head up to the Manor proper hoping, in part, to find the annoying Pansy Parkinson to get the game over with, but hoping more to have to opportunity to stop by his favourite indoor place -- his father’s study.
Once he was inside the house and away from his mother who would scold him if she could see him, Draco kicked off his shoes and padded through to the cavernous kitchen. He loved the way the worn grey flagstones felt on the soles of his feet. Draco grabbed a large, dark red apple from the bowl on one of the expansive granite countertops and continued his walk through the house. He took a few bites through the shiny red skin and into the pale flesh before throwing the fruit over his shoulder with some force. He smiled naughtily when he heard the pop of a House Elf apparating to catch and dispose of the apple.
The young Malfoy proceeded through the house and came to the long, dark hallway which housed the busy portraits. When he was a little boy, Draco was very afraid of the corridor and was intimidated by the proud-looking Malfoys he had never met. When he was with his mother, he would cling to her legs and grip her hand as tightly as he could, avoiding the looks of the ancient Malfoys in their imposing frames. When Draco was with his father, however, Lucius would hold his son high in his arms and walk him down the corridor to look carefully at each portrait. This way he learned to face his fear and got a full family history.
Draco looked over the portraits until he got halfway down the long hall where he bumped, quite literally, into his father who was also observing his relatives. Some of them were missing from their frames and Lucius had been speculating as to their whereabouts.
“You know, Draco,” Lucius drawled, not yet looking at his son, “you really do have my father’s cheekbones.”
The boy blushed. He was very well aware of how much Lucius admired his father. He had been an incredibly attractive man and Draco was pleased that Lucius thought that he was in the same league. Draco felt his father’s long, silver-ringed fingers on the nape of his neck, drawing the boy closer to him.
“Don’t you have company?”
“Mother wanted me to play with Pansy Parkinson,” Draco answered with a wrinkled nose.
“And are you playing with her?” Lucius queried, his eyebrow raised.
“She’s hiding. I’m supposed to be looking for her.”
“Supposed to be?”
“It’s a big house, father, it might take some time.”
Lucius laughed at his son’s cheeky tone, “Well then, my little dragon, would you like to come to my study?”
Draco’s eyes lit up. He knew what his father was asking and he was, as usual, very happy to comply. Besides, it would kill some time.
The boy pushed some of his silver blonde hair away from his face and slipped his narrow palm into his father’s broader one and they began to walk to the senior Malfoy’s study. On the way, they passed a set of widely opened windows through which they heard Narcissa speaking about her genetically gifted, pureblood son. Pansy’s mother spoke enthusiastically about how she’d love to be more closely affiliated with the Malfoy family’s strong and good name. They were starting to make a match for their children.
Lucius scowled, scooped his son’s lithe body into his arms and kissed him on his angled jaw. The man nuzzled his face into Draco’s neck and smiled sinfully, “Not bloody likely.”
Lucius carried his heir to the imposing doors of his inner sanctum and leaned down to open them. He set Draco down on the dark green carpet just beyond the threshold and quietly locked the doors. Lucius leaned against the heavy oak doors and watched his son for a moment; Draco’s hands were in the pockets of his trousers and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his smooth chest. The boy was scrunching his toes in the thick pile of the rug and Lucius smiled. He was perfectly aware of how sensitive to touch his boy was.
Draco felt his father approach and enclose him in his arms. He loved the feeling of being pulled to his father’s chest and loved, just as much, the feel and sight of Lucius’ hands on his body. The boy turned in the man’s arms and reached a slim hand to the long, platinum hair cascading over Lucius’ shoulders. Draco loved his father’s hair, too. He especially liked the way it felt dancing across his bare flesh when the man leaned down over him.
“My darling boy,” Lucius murmured into Draco’s hair, “it’s been so long. Too long.”
Lucius was right. The pair had been unable to spend as much time as they wanted together -- Lucius had been working long hours for the Ministry and even harder in his other position with the Death Eaters, and Draco had been busy with school and with shopping trips spent with his mother.
“I’ve missed you, Daddy,” Draco whispered, tumbling the special, casual name for his father from his lips.
A swift crackle of green and black passed between them, cutting the tension, and Lucius pulled his son into a strong but tender embrace. Draco kissed the man’s mouth, suckling at his lower lip in the way he knew would make his father crazy. Lucius again lifted the boy into his arms and kissed him back, hard.
“Naughty boy,” Lucius husked.
Draco shook his head and threaded his fingers through his father’s hair, sweeping if back off his face, “I’m a good boy, Daddy.”
Lucius made a noise in the back of his throat that may have been a growl and bent to nip at the place just beneath Draco’s ear, making the boy hiss and arch in his father’s arms.
Draco squirmed loose and pulled Lucius onto the plush green carpet underfoot. It was not the most dignified thing for a Malfoy to be on the floor, but Lucius was sure that right at this moment it really didn’t matter. He slipped a hand into his son’s shirt and played his fingers across the boy’s chest. With his other hand, he deftly undid the buttons and rested his large palm on Draco’s torso, making him hiss at the contact of Lucius’ heavy silver rings. The man laughed at his son’s expression and bowed his head to bite at one of Draco’s pink nipples.
“I wish I could keep you with me always,” Lucius mumbled against Draco’s chest. He could feel the boy’s heart bump against his mouth.
“Me too.”
Draco lifted his father’s head and caught his mouth in a burning kiss. Lucius was always amazed by Draco’s kisses -- no matter the tone of the moment, be it tender or sexual, there was always heat in them. There was always a neediness in those kisses that Lucius couldn’t help but respond to.
The man cradled his boy’s face in his hands as they kissed deeply and leaned him back onto the thick carpet. Lucius pulled away and sat back to slide his hands over Draco’s taut stomach and bare chest. He pushed the shirt off his son’s body and moved to undo his trousers. Draco rose up to remove the shirt completely and pushed it away. He lifted his hips as Lucius slipped his pants down past his backside and off his legs.
“No underwear?”
“I hoped I’d run into you today,” the svelte boy crooned.
Draco sat up and quickly unbuttoned his father’s linen shirt and helped him to unbuckle his belt. Lucius pulled the belt from its loops and doubled it over. He cracked it hard and relished the look on Draco’s face. The man winked and tossed the belt aside, bending to kiss the boy whose hands were already on the buttons of his pants. With a little bit of work Draco pushed Lucius’ trousers over the smooth, hard muscles of his arse to mid thigh. Lucius groaned at his erection being freed.
Once all clothing was finally removed, Draco lay on his back on the plush rug and his father beside him on his right side. Before moving to touch his boy, Lucius just looked at Draco. Just took him in. Laying there on the floor in an incredibly undignified and rather wanton way was the Malfoy heir. The boy looked exquisite, his lithe body pale against the moss green of the thick shag rug. His dark and aching penis arched up toward his belly button, not quite reaching it. Lucius was, as ever, pleased that Draco was, and always would be, only his -- never mind whatever Narcissa wanted for the boy.
“Please touch me,” Draco whined, unable to wait any longer.
Lucius took to gently running a palm over as much of his son’s body as he could comfortably reach, paying more than a little attention to Draco’s very hard cock. Draco squirmed under his father’s touch and tried to buck up into his hand to get some friction but Lucius knew what the boy was playing at. He rolled Draco onto his side and moved in flush with the boy’s back. He held Draco close with one arm, giving him a bicep to rest his head on, and with his other he reached for his wand which had fallen from his clothing in their rush to get undressed.
“Is this enough touch, my Prince?” Lucius asked cheekily.
Draco arched his back and ground his arse against Lucius’ hardness. “No,” he pouted.
Without another word, Lucius slid the tip of his wand betwixt his son’s thighs and chuckled at the boy’s response to the cold wood. He muttered the lubrication charm he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts and Draco shifted experimentally, feeling the slippery warmth between his thighs.
“Ready, my love?”
Draco nodded hurriedly, “Daddy, please.”
Lucius slipped his desperately leaking erection between Draco’s legs and groaned deeply at the contact. He ran his fingers up Draco’s side, careful not to tickle him, and into his hair. Lucius kissed and suckled at the boy’s neck before skimming his hand back down the length of Draco’s body to grip both of their hardnesses. Lucius knew it wouldn’t take long, he’d been yearning to spend any kind of time with Draco, but it had been an especially long time since they’d done this.
The elder Malfoy matched his slow, even thrusts with similar strokes and he could feel Draco’s hips already bucking. Draco used one hand to grip at Lucius’ fingers and the other to reach back and hold his father closer to him, wishing Lucius was inside of him. That was an act they had not yet graduated to, but Draco was sure he knew what he was missing.
Lucius leaned to his son’s ear, clearly knowing what he wanted, “Patience, dragon. One day.”
He picked up the pace and his thrusts became more erratic. Knowing how badly his heir wanted him was pushing him rather closer to the precipice than he wanted to be. Lucius tightened his grip on his and Draco’s cocks and began to pump them both in earnest, racing them towards what were going to be powerful orgasms.
“I need...I have to...” Draco mewled amid the keening noises he had begun to make.
Draco was thrusting with some force into his father’s hand and his fingers held fast to the soft, deep pile of the rug. The boy came hard and without much warning, his dry orgasm shot through him like a bolt of lightning. Lucius felt his orgasm roiling low and heavy in the pit of his stomach and couldn’t prepare himself when it tore itself through his body. Hearing his boy’s deep and desperate moan pushed Lucius over the edge and his slick, hot seed coated his hand and his son’s oversensitive penis.
Father and son lay entwined on the floor, breathing heavily. Lucius’ hair hung over Draco’s shoulder which the boy twirled mindlessly through his fingers as his father pressed tired kisses to the spot behind his boy’s ear. The pair were sheened with a glitter of sweat and Draco’s thighs and a generous area of the floor were streaked with Lucius’ silvery semen. The contrast between that and the dark green rug was lost on neither Slytherin.
It took them a few sluggish moments, but the two Malfoys needed to dress and continue their afternoon. Lucius took up his wand again and handed it to his son. For the familiar spell he wanted Draco to use, he knew the wand would give him no trouble.
“You know what to do, my love.”
Draco nodded. “Scourgify.”
Lucius moved to help his son dress. He buttoned Draco’s shirt and smiled warmly as the boy slithered almost bonelessly back into his trousers. Lucius rose, fixed his hair and dressed himself while Draco waited for feeling to return to his extremities.
“Are you alright?”
“Merlin’s beard!”
“What’s the matter, Draco?” Lucius asked, worried that he may have hurt the boy.
“I have to find Pansy!”
Lucius laughed heartily and followed his son out of the study as the boy raced through the house to find the girl.
Half a minute passed and one of the doors to Lucius’ large oak armoire creaked slowly open, revealing the blushing face and mussed raven hair of Pansy Parkinson. The usually serious-looking girl extricated herself from Lucius’ robes and stole quickly out of the wizard’s study to rejoin her mother and Narcissa.
On her way through the house she didn’t notice the portraits of snickering Malfoy ancestors or the prominent portrait of the smug and angular Abraxas Malfoy in his sizeable gilt frame. Pansy made a note to inform her mother that she didn’t feel that Draco was an appropriate match.