Author: Rhysenn
Genre: General
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lucius expects more than Draco can give, and nothing hurts more than your own flesh and blood.
E-mail: magical_intrigue@bigfoot.com
Homepage: http://rhysenn.morethanart.org
Ff.n page: Rhysenn
"Awfully friendly with the Potter boy, aren't you?"
Lucius slammed Draco against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Draco gasped, wincing in pain as the back of his head struck the solid concrete behind him, sending a bold of raging crimson pain through his head, splintering his mind.
"Don't you even think about it, Draco." Lucius hissed fiercly in Draco's ear, and he shoved Draco harder against the wall, crushing his slender frame with his own body. "So? Is he screwing you?"
Draco's body was quivering slightly, dominated by a paralysing fear. He didn't struggle, just went limp against the wall, his knees softening under him, a familiar, detached terror icing through his veins, laced with bleak helplessness.
"No, Father." He closed his eyes, biting down hard on his lower lip. He'd asked if Harry's screwing him. Not him taking Harry. Always been this way. Never the one to be in control; always passive, submissive...
Sharp tension sturng the silence that hung between them, interspersed only by the soft sounds of Draco's ragged, uneven breathing. Lucius' eyes narrowed as he eyed Draco critically, his eyes sliding appraisingly over the lenght of his lithe body, his pale skin moist with an invisible sheen of sweat. Lucius leaned closer, the stinging sweet smell of heat mingled on youthful flesh rising to his nostrils, invoking a twisted fire that burst into flames within him once again.
His hands raked down the sides of Draco's body, feeling the smooth contours of his torso leading down to his waist, widening sensually along the firmness of his hips as his fingers trailed further down and settled against the curve of his ass. He felt Draco's body go rigid against his, frozen and tensed; but Draco didn't move, just remained completely still.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?" Lucius whispered cruelly, allowing his hands to tighten on the warm flesh beneath his palms, feeling a shiver course through Draco's body pressed against him. "It's been way too long." His fingers moved to the waistband of Draco's jeans, tugging insistently, pulling out the shirt tails tucked into it.
Draco kept his eyes closed, his breathing quickening as fear chilled his blood, the familiar disbelieving horror awaking within him like a dormant nightmare coming to life once again...
No, please. Not again.
The words slipped from his lips before he could bite it back -
"Please." A hitch in a slowly drawn breath; his voice shuddered with suppressed emotion. "Please don't."
Lucius' hands abruptly stopped in mid-movement. "What did you say?"
The tone of steel in his father's voice arrested Draco's tentative bravery, and his protests faltered on his tounge as he felt the wetness of Lucius' tongue flicker out against the bare skin of his neck, followed by a sharp nipping pain as teeth harshly tested tender flesh.
Draco knew better than to answer, although he also knew he had already gone too far.
Flaring with rage, Lucius seized Draco by the shoulder, roughly twisting him around and pushing him face-first against the wall. His hands tore at Draco's clothes, undressing him deftly from waist down, kicking slim legs apart as the seed of his desire was laid bare.
Draco said nothing, just braced himself against the wall, his face pressed against the smooth, painted surface of the wall, cool against his cheek. He felt Lucius' hands roving over his body, his manner ungentle, devoid of love.
Please get it over with, he implored fervently, keeping his eyes screwed shut, unwilling to see any more than he already felt. Please finish this quickly.
"Don't you dare defy me again, Draco." Lucius spoke harshly, his mouth resting next to Draco's ear, his lips brushing against Draco's earlobe. "You'll have to understand that, no matter how I have to punish it into you. You - obey - me."
"Yes, Father." Draco whispered automatically, desperation evident in his tight voice, almost choked off with fear.
"Yes Father, what?"
"Yes Father, I will not defy you."
Lucius removed his own pants, leaving them on the floor as he moved closer to Draco, nudging his tights apart with his knee. "You'll do well to remember that, Draco." His voice was pitiless. "You will do everything I say, without another word from you. Is that clear?"
Whispered, very softly. "Yes."
Lucius' long fingers caressed the entrance to Draco's body, stretched beneath him, his knee wedged between Draco's legs, holding his tights apart. One finger slid inside, followed by another; Draco's body flinched reflexively, although he fought valiantly to hold perfectly still. Lucius took his time, flexing his fingers inside, working the tightness from the muscles as they gradually slackened. Draco clenched his fists, shamefully finding himself get hard as Lucius' other hand slipped around his waist to stroke him.
The steady movement of Lucius' fingers inside of him burned alternately with pain and pleasure, and Draco closed his eyes, his temples throbbing, his breath becoming shallow stabs. He tried to concentrate on the twisted enjoyment, but it was scarce, overshadowed by sharp pain and bitter embarrassment.
Lucius suddenly stopped moving; Draco cringed as he felt teeth biting down on his earlobe.
"What's the matter with you, Draco?" Lucius' voice was sharp and unyielding, hoarse with passion. "I never raised you to be a slut."
"I'm not a slut." Draco's voice trempled with an almost plaintive tone, as if holding fast to his dignity as his innocence was wrenched away from him. "I'm not sleeping with Harry, I swear."
Lucius allowed a meaningful pause before he spoke again.
"And yet you call him Harry." Lucius voice was soft, sliced with venom so cold that it made Draco's blood chill, and fear rose inexorably within him as he realised his slip too late.
Lucius shook his head in disgust. "You've always been a hopeless liar, Draco."
Without warning, he grabbed Draco by the shoulders, jerked him forward and threw him forcefully against the wall again; Draco's hands darted out a heartbeat too late, and he let out a stifled cry of pain as his left cheekbone struck the wall with a dull crack, and he tasted the coppery tang of blood on his upper lip, filling his mouth with its metallic bitterness.
Lucius' hands clamped down on Draco's arms in a grip of steel, holding him against the wall, finding no resistance in the quivering body entirely at his mercy. The slender legs stood apart, shamefully inviting, evoking the dark tide of twisted desire once again, wave upon wave of perverse pleasure admist inflicted pain, drowning thought and conscience in a flood of undiluted passion, acid on the soul, ecstasy in the flesh.
Draco was his, Lucius thought fiercely as he claimed the rightfull possession, thrusting viciously into the youthful body laid open in front of him, each searing stroke eliciting a choked sob from Draco, a humbled acknowledgement of his subordination, a muted acceptance of grotesque patrimony.
Draco closed his eyes, his fingers digging into the hard concrete wall, grasping for support availed, slipping into the darkness within. The pain was hot and vivid like fire in his veins, the forced intrusion into his body painted in the color of anguish. Tears stung his closed eyelids, and he forced himself not to cry, not to show weakness, like his father had always taught him... but the resolve broke, and the tears came, dissolving into helpless, pleading sobs, and he rode the dark red agony like a chariot of fire as his consciousness wavered, then came into sharp focus again.
When it was finally over, Draco let himself slide to the floor as the grip on his arms loosened; he sank to his knees, a forlorn huddle on the clod floor, nursing colder agony still. The pain still throbbed dully as the bruises closed in on themselves, desperately trying to heal - to survive.
Lucius stood over him, watching impassively as Draco struggled to catch his breath, the sobs getting in the way. He said nothing, just waited for the tearful gasps to subside; Draco didn't look up at him, just buried his face in his hands, keeping the rest of the world shielded away.
When Lucius finally spoke, his voice was glazed with distant iciness, sharp as a blade.
"You are a Malfoy, Draco - behave as one. And if I ever, ever find out you've disgraced me, or defiled yourself with such filth as the Potter boy again, you will be punished, and you will be sorry." Lucius paused, letting the threat hang ominously in the air, and Draco shivered, wrapping his arms around himself for elusive warmth. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes." A broken voice, hopeless, despairing.
"Good. Never forget that."
With that, Lucius turned and walked out of the study, leaving Draco slumped on the floor, utterly alone, with nothing but the freshly scorched memories of what should never have happened.
And it will never be forgotten; a father's sin and a son's sacrifice, a legacy unspoken, engraved in a travesty of blood and bruised flesh.
