"Do you miss it, Severus?" Lucius murmured into my ear. His whiskey-soaked breath was unpleasantly warm against my neck.
"Miss what?" I asked, distracted by the play of sunlight on Harry's greying hair; the flex of shoulder muscles under the thin, almost sheer, summer robe; the occasional bright flash when he turned his head and the sun hit his glasses just so.
"The meetings, the violence, the release, the absolute fucking high of being in control, of being out of control, of being a Death Eater."
Quotes a chunk of your story back at you :D This, in my opinion, completely and totally sums up Lucius. It completely blew me away. I now have a terrible urge to write fic about Lucius, for which I blame you entirely! *grins*
There's something really grim and tawdry about this fic (er, in a good way!). I think it's the complete and total contrast between the passion in the Harry/Snape scene – which is bone-deep and entirely believable – and the horror of the drug-taking scene. My heart was thumping uncomfortably when Snape was with Patrick – I had a sudden awful feeling that he was a prostitute, but the drug taking (such an original idea) was almost worse. Severus is so delusional – addicted to his own darkness, almost – that he seeks the out-of-control rush of the drug, even though he has his own source of happiness waiting for him at home.
I'm not sure whether I enjoyed your fic very much – it's too painful, I think, and taps into too many real-life, hurt-y places (not personal ones, especially, but there's just something very real and awful about Severus' situation and the way he feels) – but it's really impressive. I've read it several times already, it's just so compelling.