The Impression of PromiseAuthor:
Regulus Black/Lucius Malfoy/Rabastan LeStrangeRating:
For EOINA: dark wizards/witches, and magical charmsOther Warnings:
Underage (16 years old) participant in threesome; dub-conWord Count:
In which Regulus shows great promise, and his father leaves him to impress their guests of his potential.Author's Notes:
Many thanks to the mods for allowing me this later posting date. This fic began as a Lucius/Regulus story, but once I had the idea for this threesome it was game over. I would count this as my very modest tribute to all those fun "Death Eaters get up to all kinds of wicked sexy things together" stories out there.
"-- then you well understand how the boy thirsts for an admirable influence such as yours."
Regulus backed away from the approaching voices, and two seconds later flattened himself against the last bookcase in the rows at the rear of Grimmauld Place's library. Holding his breath, he strained to overhear his father's words while at the same time avoiding discovery.
"I certainly have noticed his potential, young though he is," a smooth voice murmured.
Lucius Malfoy, then. Regulus's heart beat faster at the recognition. That silky tone was one Regulus remembered, though he'd only heard it during stilted chat at staid social events. Just an hour ago when he'd seen a group of young men, acquaintances of his elder cousins, arriving to call upon his father, he thought he might have spotted Narcissa's fiancé among them. The mere possibility brought the rich lilt of that compelling voice to his ears.
They had all either been seventh years or already gone from Hogwarts when Regulus became a first year, Lucius Malfoy and his mates. He'd always wished he could think of something clever to say or do to make them take notice whenever he spotted them wearing fine robes and arrogant smirks, carrying purses heavy with galleons. If he had friends like them, instead of the stupid boys he knew in Slytherin, people would look at him as someone who mattered, someone a wizard shouldn't cross.
So when he had heard his father conversing with one of the group in an undertone and realized they must have been headed for the library to exchange confidences, he rushed ahead to hide himself and listen. The fact that those privately traded words focused on him made his eyes widen.
"That is precisely what I wished to speak to you about, the promise he shows. After all, he's nearly of age." His father paused. Then Regulus heard the creak of his father sitting in the leather chair behind the enormous desk, a clear signal of him scrutinizing whoever stood on the opposite side.
Risking movement during the lull in the conversation, Regulus slipped quietly into a row of bookcases several lengths closer to his father and their guest. Perhaps sneaking and spying didn't say much for his so-called potential. But he was dead bored, in the middle of a seemingly never-ending break from Hogwarts, aching to do something besides accompany his mother to Diagon Alley or study the dry dark magic books his father thrust in his hands.
He raised himself on tiptoe to peer out over the shelf of books obscuring his view of the scene. Pausing only for a second on his father's stooped and grim figure, Regulus shifted his full attention to Malfoy. Their guest stood tall, head cocked as he regarded his host, respectful regard writ in his expression. While his father leaned back in his chair with narrowed eyes, a tactic designed to test his conversational partner for nervousness, Malfoy only glanced at the books stacked on the table next to him with a wry smile. Even at this distance, Regulus caught the glint of light from the window turning the crown of Malfoy's white-blond hair golden.
"He has potential; that is not in doubt," Regulus's father finally continued. "Our worry is he'll not understand precisely with whom he might best further our -- his interests. So far his choices have upheld the principles we share; for that, we are grateful. We well perceive, however, the critical importance of carefully chosen alliances in these troubled times."
"No doubt his early maturity stems from an admirable disdain for his brother Sirius's actions. Most unfortunate, his rash desertion of your esteemed family --"
Regulus's father made a sound too strangled to count as a cough. "We no longer speak that name in this house."
A pause. "But of course. I merely meant to continue by saying the promise Regulus displays, all the good I have heard tell of him as well as what I myself have witnessed, would more than persuade me to take him in hand and guide him even without your most welcome prompting."
"Good, good; that is precisely what I wish, for you to advise him, to lead him to the best associates."
"Your suggestion of other associates, yes." Lucius tapped his lower lip with his slim forefinger in consideration. "I have already thought of key wizards whose acquaintance Regulus must make to secure the rich future nearly in his grasp."
Someone snorted. There was a third person in the room, Regulus realized with some confusion; he had assumed his father and Lucius Malfoy spoke only to one another.
As Regulus leaned forward to hear better, his elbow jabbed and toppled some of the closest volumes off their shelf. Though he quickly grabbed for them and caught one of the smaller books, a large tome fell to the floor with a resounding bang.
He froze. There was a muffled cough (perhaps a disguised laugh) from Malfoy, and his father gave a disapproving grunt.
Regulus cleared his throat and forced himself to take the steps that would expose him to the company.
"Imagine my displeasure, Regulus," his father said softly, "at finding you here eavesdropping --"
"Apologies, Father, but this so absorbed my attention, I did not realize until a moment ago that anyone had entered the room." Regulus clutched the book he had grabbed from the shelves at random. At his father's outstretched hand and forbidding look, Regulus swallowed and handed it over to him.
"Curious Curses and Helpful Hexes: Hard to Detect Spells for Covert Circumstances
," Regulus's father read aloud. "Well." He opened the tome and slowly turned a few pages before closing it. "It is gratifying to witness you continuing the studies I have encouraged." He extended it back to Regulus.
Regulus glanced at him as he took the text again, and tried not to flinch when his gaze unexpectedly caught a first view of the fourth person in the room.
Rabastan Lestrange leaned against the wall next to the door, the edges of his mouth curling up slightly; whether in wicked amusement or gleeful mockery, Regulus could not tell. His position placed him behind Regulus's father. As Regulus stared, trying to figure out this newcomer's role in matters, Rabastan grinned outright before running his tongue just under his top row of teeth.
Regulus flushed and looked away, only at that moment realizing he had missed a further exchange between his father and Lucius Malfoy.
"I understand completely," his father finished in reply to whatever Lucius had murmured. He turned again to his son. "Regulus, what these men have to convey to you is of the utmost importance. As a consequence, I wish you to give them your full attention. I will see to it that no one disturbs you."
"Most kind," Lucius Malfoy said, inclining his head. He looked to Rabastan, who arched an eyebrow but did not otherwise respond.
Regulus barely heard the sound of the library door closing behind his father over the thump-thumping of his own heart. Two men he had longed to meet, to impress, had remained with the sole purpose of better acquainting themselves with him. And now as they turned to look at him, Lucius's expression keenly intent, Rabastan's wryly assessing, it seemed to Regulus the very air around them crackled with possibility.
How fitting his father had banished the mention of Sirius before these two men! Regulus felt the rightness of it as a potion spreading rapidly through his system. This moment would become a way to strike out Sirius and the way he'd abandoned Regulus, erase from importance the way Sirius had flaunted adventures and friends and independence while Regulus shouldered forward, lonely and kept too close by their watchful parents. Here in this same room where moments before Regulus had hidden, he would cultivate his own advantageous connections, would lay the groundwork for his own bold future. He shivered with anticipation, half-expecting to hear the hissing of his blood rushing through his veins.
"May I?" Lucius asked softly.
Regulus nodded, unsure as to what he had agreed even as Lucius stepped closer.
Lucius's smile spread across his face slowly, and Regulus felt his lips part as he looked up to meet his gaze.
Then Lucius reached out to take the book Regulus still held, fingertips brushing against Regulus's chest.
Part of Regulus wanted to exhale noisily, whether in relief or disappointment. But it was the stretch of Lucius's finely-boned wrist that distracted him from that sort of reaction. It attracted Regulus's eye, the way the rich fabric of Lucius's robe slipped back to reveal the startling contrast past those elegant hands: milky smooth skin emblazoned with intricate, bold black marking.
He couldn't help himself. Lucius had barely drawn his hand back, the book in his grasp, when Regulus reached out to trace a fingertip along that striking dark curve he could still glimpse past Lucius's cuff.
"You --" Regulus whispered wonderingly, unsure how best to continue. He knew what it meant, of course, that snake, that skull; had heard tales of how the most elite of the Dark Lord's followers wore it hidden as a badge of honor, as a mark of their admittance to the most clandestine of rituals and rulings.
Lucius continued to smile, continued to appear interested and amused. But at the same time his hand clasped Regulus's, halting progress beyond Lucius's cuff with a grip that promised pain should it continue beyond a moment.
"Quite promising," Lucius murmured. "Perhaps too far ahead of the proper order of things, taking such liberties with men who hold power of which you can only dream. But daring, yes, that cannot be denied. Admirable, really, such bravery in a young man with your particular background. I suppose it should be no surprise to encounter this boldness, considering the...rashness for which your family has become known of late."
Regulus felt his breath stuttering past his lips as he tried ineffectually to keep from panting. Despite the thinly veiled threat in Lucius's words, despite the nearly overt reference to Sirius's betrayal of Pureblood ideals -- somehow he felt fear only in small proportion compared to the rising excitement that thrummed through him.
As he stood only a wand-length away from Lucius, Regulus found himself so immersed in the intensity of the encounter that he didn't realize Rabastan had stepped behind him, until he felt the other man's breath on his neck.
"Boldness, now, that we have use for. I think if the lad's got spirit and curiosity, he ought to be rewarded."
Regulus could feel the heat from Rabastan's body, from Lucius's as well. Dimly he detected the sheen of sweat beginning on his forehead.
"Rewarded how, precisely?" Lucius asked, his tone uninterested but his eyes piercing.
"Here, now," Rabastan offered, thrusting his left arm in against Regulus's side. He'd angled it so it stretched between him and Lucius, dividing the little air between them almost as if prepared to fit it around Regulus's torso and draw him away from the man standing opposite.
"Look your fill," Rabastan continued, his voice low. He'd rolled his sleeve up at some point, and his lower arm was fully exposed. Unlike the coy glimpse Regulus spotted of Lucius's mark, Rabastan's thick-lined sign of his membership in the Dark Lord's inner-circle appeared audacious, completely bared as it was. "Touch it if you like," Rabastan added, his lips brushing the lobe of Regulus's ear.
Lucius still held his right hand fast; Regulus comprehended this in the back of his mind. But in the main, his body recognized only lifting his trembling left hand so he could grasp Rabastan's muscular arm, cradling it in his fingers. When he stroked his thumb along the strong black path of the image, he found himself leaning against Rabastan's chest. "Oh," he breathed out, shivering as he imagined the imprinting of this defiant sign.
"Too far ahead of the proper order of things by far." Lucius lamented. His deliberate slipping off of his outer robes flashed in the periphery of Regulus's vision. "Yet perhaps there is some justification for the expediency, given the pressing matter of Regulus's future allegiances."
Regulus looked up from the riveting image of Rabastan's mark in a daze, dizzy with the heat of both of them so close. Even in his excitement of actually stroking the very mark the Dark Lord had made on Rabastan's arm he realized that he had recklessly continued where Malfoy would have held him back.
He couldn't spare a thought to regret that he might have ruined his chance for an alliance with Malfoy, however, for Lucius released Regulus's right hand clutched in his left. Regulus had only a moment to realize Lucius's open shirt cuffs allowed the fabric to expose his own forcefully compelling mark when Lucius grasped his chin with no little force, and wrenched him forward to take his lips in a possessive kiss.
Regulus surged forward, a cry at the assault muffled by Lucius's mouth. He might have stumbled back were it not for Rabastan pressing forward, a low laugh in his throat. The movement brought Regulus flush against Lucius and enabled Rabastan's cock, stiff and thick even through the fabric of his trousers, to press against Rabastan's lower back.
By the time Lucius had thrust his tongue inside Regulus's welcoming mouth, Lucius had grown hard as well, his prick rubbing against Regulus's belly.
"Our little protégé, so eager already for our instruction," Lucius mused as Regulus, his lips released, gasped for breath. "To think we planned only to sway him with pretty speeches and suggestions at the start."
As Lucius spoke, Rabastan slipped his right hand to cover Regulus's groin, squeezing as he caught Regulus's ear in his teeth. "Plenty of time for words later," Rabastan muttered. "There are other ways to work out terms, aren't there, Regulus?" He bent his knees and rolled his hips forward, sliding his cock against the cleft of Regulus's arse.
Regulus felt his fingers clutch air as Rabastan clamped that left arm, that tangible medium expressing the Dark Lord's approval, against Regulus's chest to keep him upright. And nothing could have caused it that he could tell -- no spells had been uttered, no wands deployed -- but in his overheated state Regulus swore he felt the mark heat his skin, a flash of sharp warmth blazing through the thin fabric of his shirt.
The rush of sensation sent his head lolling back on Rabastan's shoulder. He barely had a moment to whimper with need when the heel of Rabastan's right palm rubbed over his stiff length. Only a second later, Rabastan traced his swollen lips with teasing fingers before slipping two of the digits inside Regulus's mouth.
Regulus moaned, rasping his tongue against those thrusting fingers, sucking as Rabastan groaned encouragement. When Lucius slid his palms up Regulus's chest to tweak at Regulus's nipples, Regulus bucked forward, drawing his breath in sharply at how the motion drove his groin into Rabastan's cupped hand, how the lurch forward had pressed Lucius's searing erection against his belly.
Who undid his trousers, and who stripped his shirt from his body, Regulus couldn't say. But his left arm had seemingly on its own slung itself around Lucius's neck, his right hand moved by some force to grasp back at Rabastan's hip. He could feel heat everywhere: in Lucius's punishing kisses, Rabastan's possessive hold, in the way he himself shimmied and twisted against the men who held him in thrall between them.
As he came (with Rabastan's hand jerking his prick and Lucius twisting his hips in tight little circles against him), Regulus felt a noise torn from him that the fingers in his mouth instantly muffled; the stifled cry died out as the tremors finished working their way through his body.
For a moment or two, the men held him between them, Rabastan whispering things in his ear that seemed incomprehensible in Regulus's dazed state, Lucius with a faint smile playing on his lips but with a growing impatience in his eyes.
Then Regulus stumbled, bewildered when the fingers that had muted his outcry all at once slipped out to press down on his shoulders. He went to his knees, still stunned from the exhilaration singeing through his system. When he looked up, elegant fingers coaxed his pliant mouth open, and Lucius Malfoy's cock slid inside.
He choked before he got the rhythm of it, overwhelmed by the scent and the heavy thickness. When Rabastan knelt behind him, thrusting his erection in the valley between Regulus's buttocks with increasing speed, he was only further thrown off balance. Dizziness swept through him, and the grunts and heavy breathing of the other two as they jerked their hips forward threatened to overwhelm his senses entirely, and pull him down further into some unknowing state.
It was the sharp pain of Lucius's fingers yanking at his hair that called him back to the present. Grasping at Lucius's slim hips with both hands for leverage so Rabastan's increasingly fervid thrusts wouldn't knock him over, Regulus tightened his lips around one cock, clenched his arse around the other, and felt a wash of excitement as he let them use him. If it had happened any other way; had they been any other men -- but no, the flashes in his vision of dark curling lines, of signs blazed into skin, those precious prized marks -- those blurred glimpses grounded him to his task and purpose.
His back bowed with the splash of hot fluid; his throat constricted before swallowing the rush of release flooding his mouth.
The sting of cleaning charms, the staggering confusion of being hauled to his feet and briskly re-dressed -- it was all Regulus could do to keep his wits about him as the other men adjusted their garments with practiced ease.
"A great deal of potential, indeed," Lucius Malfoy declared, clapping his hand on Regulus's shoulder as though they had just finished exchanging pleasantries. "Yes, this seems to me an association that will benefit all involved."
Rabastan laughed outright as this, at which point Lucius paused to give him a stern look.
"You will of course continue to meet others of our circle," Lucius added, his lips pursed in thoughtful consideration. "But I trust they will soon recognize the promise and talents you possess." As he finished, he reached out and stroked a knuckle along Regulus's cheek.
Regulus opened his mouth, unsure of the proper response, when Rabastan shoved something at him. When he blinked and looked down at the object in his hand, he realized it was the book, the one he had held as he emerged from among the shelves to greet his father's guests.
Lucius smiled. "Ah, yes, the theoretical study; most important. Remember this, however, as you strive to win over others of our cohort, and cultivate the interest and trust of our powerful Lord: practical application may have an even greater role in securing your advancement."
"I'll remember," Regulus found himself responding.
Lucius gave a small proper bow, then tsk-ed as Rabastan tugged Regulus to him and, with a wicked grin, licked a stripe along the side of his neck.
At last they stepped into the corridor beyond, and the door closed behind them.
Regulus slumped against his father's desk. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he stood in the vast room alone.
Then he extended his left arm, pressing his thumb from the top of his inner arm to his wrist, down along the stretch of skin where the dark mark would burn. He swept his thumb back up, eyelashes fluttering as he repeated the motion, bearing down even harder along the path of the sign he might one day bear. He shivered, and did it again. *~* the end *~*