The Propriety of Passion
Title: The Propriety of Passion Author: Shirahime Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Draco/Lucius Warnings: incest, somnophilia Word Count: 3,005 Rating: NC-17 Summary: What a Malfoy wants, a Malfoy gets, and Draco sets out upon the task.
Panting for breath, Draco lay on his back in his bed at Malfoy Manor, his chest heaving. Releasing his softening erection, he laid a hand on his belly, swirling the pearly fluid spilled there with a finger. It was getting such that his own hand couldn’t please him anymore. It would be so much better if it were someone else, long deft fingers stroking him in all the right places, a knowing smirk and laughing grey eyes sparkling at him. A lean, strong body raising itself to sink down onto his cock. Groaning, Draco threw an arm over his eyes, as if that would put a halt to the images of his own father dancing behind his eyelids, doing things that were anything but paternal.
Malfoys were never wizards known to delay gratification for long, and Draco was as much a Malfoy in this as any other, perhaps more so. He often had a distinct lack of patience, and this quality of his was his undoing when it came to matters of the flesh. It would be perfectly fine and acceptable if the focus of his lust and devotion had been a girl, or even another boy. But the fact that his waking thoughts were consumed with erotic visions of his father, made worse by teenaged hormones, was something that couldn’t be considered proper at all. It was a maddening desire that almost certainly would remain unfulfilled.
Despite the fact that his father had to be lonely for companionship, his mother away for the summer without the two of them as was her habit, Draco knew there was no way of talking the man into any sort of a tryst. This kind of thing just wasn’t done by normal wizards. Incest was something so taboo that there was no way that his father would agree. Draco frowned, considering. But what if his father felt similarly? He wanted to believe that the pointed looks and sly glances his father gave him on occasion were something more than just paternal interest, but there was no way to be certain of it. He bit his lip. If he were wrong, the price would be high. Draco could almost picture the elder Malfoy with a look of barely disguised disgust flitting across his elegant face. No. There was no way that he could allow his father to discover his feelings.
Draco groaned, clutching at his soiled bed linen. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d go mad. Shifting about in bed, he stared absently at the ceiling before a thought passed through his mind, fleeting at first, but then gaining import as it returned to haunt him, slithering about his mind like a serpent, tempting him. Well, it’s not like the man would find out, if Draco did this right. And so the blonde formulated a plan that would involve a trip to Knockturn Alley while his father was at the Ministry in the coming hours.
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Draco eyed the small vial sitting before him on the table, a clear substance in an amber colored container. There was no reason to worry, he supposed. He’d been assured of its safety by Mr. Poundstone himself. The owner of Poundstone’s Potion Emporium, a place known for concoctions that tread the line between Light and Dark magic, could hardly be called one who made an honest living, but he had a reputation to uphold in darker circles. Honor among thieves, after a fashion. There had never been tale of his often barely legal potions causing any effects other than those he advertised. The man was no potions master, but he was as good as Draco would get. Godfather or no, Snape would definitely refuse to brew a potion the likes of which Draco had bought in Knockturn Alley, not without interrogating him at the very least.
Draco shivered at the memory of how the man had leered at him, telling him of the potion’s effects. “Oh yes, your little lady friend will relax nicely. A few drops in her drink, and she’ll be sleeping so deeply that not even You Know Who parading through with an army of Death Eaters would wake her before you’re done. Even if she remembers a bit, she’ll just think everything was a naughty little dream she had. Hell, it might even make her more receptive later, if you catch my meaning,” the man had finished with a nudge from his elbow and a wicked grin.
The teen stared at the vial for a moment more, his palms sweaty. The elder Malfoy would be home soon, and he’d miss his chance. Indecision would get him nowhere. The question was if he was Slytherin enough to go through with it. Huffing and unclenching his fist, Draco grasped the bottle and purposefully strode out of his room, down the stairs, and into his father’s study. Walking in, Draco made a beeline for the low table containing the liquors his father kept in the room. Reaching out, Draco uncorked the flask of his father’s favorite liquor, the one he usual chose in his ritual of relaxation after coming home from work. He measured out the suggested amount of potion to do the trick before heading upstairs to wait.
Draco thought that he’d wear a hole in the rug with the way he was pacing his room so much, until the clock struck five. Any moment now, his father should be home. Draco neared the head of the stairs, hearing activity below. Sure enough, his father strode in from the foyer, a scowl on his face. Draco tried to hide his excitement. The man looked like he’d need a great deal of relaxation. Gathering his courage, Draco descended the stairs, trying to look as natural as possible, and not the bundle of nerves that he really was. Just relax, you’re doing fine, he told himself to boost his confidence.
“Good evening, Father,” Draco greeted when he was at the bottom of the stairs. Distracted by his thoughts, it took Lucius Malfoy a moment to turn around. When he did, though, he gave his son a smile that made the boy worry that he might go weak in the knees. It wasn’t a broad smile, but the intensity of it and that of his grey eyes made the boy’s gut clench.
“Good evening, Draco,” the older blonde drawled. “You are certainly a welcome sight after what I’ve had to deal with today.”
After a few moments, the elder Malfoy retired to his study. His son trailed behind, uncertain if he should leave his father for a while, but wanting to observe the effects of the potion. True to form, Lucius grasped his favorite bottle of liquor, pouring a copious amount into a glass. Draco watched Lucius from the doorway, his eyes following his father’s hand as he raised the short tumbler of amber liquid to his lips. Feeling eyes on his form, Lucius looked up at the boy, frowning at how his son seemed to be hovering at the entrance, expectant.
“Is there something you wanted to ask me, Draco?”
So caught up in watching the man’s movements, Draco almost didn’t realize that the man was addressing him directly. Shoving aside his nervousness as much as he could, Draco tried to sound casual. “I was just wondering how work was today, Father. You seem very tense.” The blonde was pleased that his voice was steady. Draco made a point not to look at the glass that his father kept sipping from, fearing that he’d give something away.
“I’m just a little tired, Draco,” Lucius answered his face a mask of disdain. “Arthur as usual.” Draco had heard his father rant about the other wizard so often that the blonde didn’t need to explain further. He watched his father take a seat on one end of the leather couch, still nursing his drink.
It wasn’t long before Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose, his lids heavy. He was very tired, more so than usual. He was barely able to suppress a yawn. Glancing up, he noticed Draco trying to hide the smile forming on his lips.
“Perhaps you should lie down for a moment, Father,” Draco suggested, hoping that his voice didn’t sound too eager as he approached the couch.
“A good suggestion, it seems,” the elder Malfoy agreed as he swung his legs up onto the couch. He thought it strange that his limbs felt so heavy. The man could hardly keep his eyes open. He cracked his eyes, smiling slightly as he watched Draco remove his shoes for him. Such a helpful boy, Lucius thought as he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Draco stood watching his father for a few moments, his heart hammering in his chest. He noted how his father’s breath evened out as he succumbed to the potions effects.
“Father?” Draco asked, to test the man’s wakefulness. Gathering his courage, he shook the man, gently at first, then more firmly. Draco grinned when the man gave no signs of waking up. Taking a few deep breaths, Draco attempted to calm himself. He had to make this last, since he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance.
Draco took in his father’s appearance, how his head was turned to the side against the arm of the couch, long pale locks obscuring his face slightly. Draco pushed them away with a hand that moved to trail across the man’s cheek. Lucius’ faintly pink lips were parted slightly. Unable to resist, Draco leaned in for a kiss. His father’s lips were soft and warm. Draco delved inside, a tongue sweeping the elder Malfoy’s mouth as Draco fisted a hand in platinum hair. So nice. He could taste the echo of the liquor the man had consumed and imagined that underlying this was something distinctly Lucius. It would have been better if his father could respond to his press of lips and swipe of tongue, but the pliancy of the normally dominant man had Draco’s trousers feeling extraordinarily tight nevertheless.
Pulling back, slightly trembling hands moved to the buttons of Lucius’ shirt. Draco eyes shifted to his father’s placid face, lips reddened and slightly swollen from his kisses and nibbling. Then his gaze dropped to the creamy flesh bared as he spread his father’s crisp white shirt, exposing a muscled chest with a faint dusting of platinum hairs. Pinkish nipples stood proudly, as if the elder Malfoy had been affected by Draco’s previous attentions. Perhaps he had, Draco thought as he remembered the shopkeeper’s words.
Draco leaned in to lap at one nubbin then drew it into his mouth, suckling it as his hands roved over his father’s chest and stomach. The boy drew back in surprise when he heard Lucius utter a low sound in his throat. He stared at his father nervously before realizing that the man was moaning in his sleep. Draco bit his lip as his cock throbbed at the knowledge. His free hand slid down to caress his own groin, easing some of the pressure, while the other one toyed with a pert nipple. Draco suckled on it again briefly before his hands slid down to his father’s belt. The sound of leather whistling against cloth seemed so loud in the room as Draco drew the belt from its loops. His heart leaping from his chest, Draco unfastened the elder Malfoy’s trousers, reaching inside to draw out his smooth soft flesh.
His father’s organ didn’t stay that way for long in Draco’s gently pumping hand. He soon stroked the man to hardness, licking his lips as the older blonde moaned softly as he slept. Draco wondered who he was dreaming of. Was it his mother’s hand his father imagined himself feeling? A lover? Or was it Draco’s, a twisted fantasy that couldn’t be allowed to see the light of day indulged in the realm of dreams. The teen watched as pearly fluid beaded at the tip of Lucius’ erection, smoothing it across the head with his thumb.
Unable to resist anymore, Draco freed his own erection, stroking it in time with the hand that worked on his father’s hardness. Frowning as he bit his lip, Draco tried to resist the tempting thought that had been assaulting him since he began this endeavor. He tried to push it away. If he gave in, surely his father would realize what had happened in the morning. Perhaps not, though, since Draco was aware of a healing charm or two that worked for soreness. After a brief struggle, his libido won out. Draco moved to divest his father of trousers and underwear, folding them to put on a nearby chair. His palms sweating, he reached into his pocket to retrieve a small vial that he had placed there in case he worked up the nerve.
Swallowing almost audibly, Draco approached the couch, moving to part the other blonde’s thighs. He was hard as a rock as he first toyed with the older man’s testicles before wetting a finger to slide against his puckered entrance. Glancing upward, Draco nearly came as he watched a pink tongue lap at lips sleepily, leaving them glistening with wetness. Draco moved to claim Lucius’ mouth again, murmuring endearments before returning to his position between his thighs. Moistening his fingers with the lubricant, Draco swirled his index finger around his father’s entrance before slowly pressing inside, watching as puckered flesh yielded to swallow the digit. Draco stroked in and out several times before adding another slick digit, probing and scissoring. Swiping against a certain spot within had Lucius shifting slightly in his sleep, groaning softly as he murmured. Draco couldn’t help but run a tongue along the elder Malfoy’s length, standing proudly with its glistening tip. He suckled it as he stroked that spot within his father repeatedly, Lucius shifting and arching his back in response.
Watching his father writhe due to his ministrations was too much for Draco. He quickly slicked his length with glistening lubricant. Raising a lean muscled leg over one shoulder, Draco positioned himself at the entrance to his father’s body. The teen knelt on the couch frozen for a moment as he gazed at the man’s body, a light sheen of perspiration on creamy skin, pink lips parted with small moans escaping, and his long hair, usually immaculate, now tousled from his movements. Perfect, Draco thought, just perfect. With murmured words of affection that the elder Malfoy couldn’t hear, Draco began to slowly push home.
Draco’s groans overpowered the sound of Lucius’ softer ones as he sheathed himself in his father’s heat. The teen had to stop several times for fear of coming to quickly. The elder Malfoy was deliciously tight around Draco. The thought occurred to him that perhaps the man had never been in this position before, causing a grin to spread across the teen’s face. Finally buried in the other blonde to the hilt, Draco gave himself a few moments rest to collect himself before giving a series of shallow thrusts that had the most delicious soft sounds escaping Lucius’ throat. Unable to contain himself, Draco grasped his father’s thighs more firmly, picking up the pace and thrusting deep. He knew there was no way that he would last long, not with Lucius’ whimpered moans and tight heat clenching around him.
Draco growled as his father suddenly keened softly, his back arching slightly. He watched as ropes of pearly fluid painted his father’s belly. Grunting, he thrust raggedly into his father’s spasming passage before he plunged in deep, clutching at his father’s thighs as he emptied warmly inside of him. Panting, Draco stayed as he was for a moment before disengaging to slump against the arm of the couch behind him, feeling completely spent. When he recovered, Draco wrinkled his nose at the mess he’d made of his father and the couch. A few cleaning spells later, Draco began to dress the thoroughly shagged elder Malfoy. He accioed a coverlet to drape over the man, planting a kiss on his lips before moving to exit the room. Gasping at almost having forgotten, Draco cast a quick healing charm. He had been a little rougher than he thought he’d be. Almost reluctantly, the teen left the room, leaving Lucius to whatever dreams his mind had conjured up.
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The following morning, Draco was greeted by a slightly dazed looking Malfoy senior who had made his way sluggishly down to breakfast after freshening up upstairs. He slid into the chair at the head of the table after a muttered greeting to Draco, not meeting the boy’s eyes.
Draco was more than a little worried about his father’s behavior. Did he remember anything about what had happened the night before? “You look a little sluggish this morning, Father,” the boy remarked in what he hoped was a conversational tone. “Did you not sleep well?”
At the question, Lucius seemed to flush slightly, pink rising to stain his cheeks. After a moment, he seemed to make a point of looking Draco in the eye, as if proving something to himself. “No, I slept very well, thank you,” he answered. Draco wouldn’t have thought anything was off if not for his father’s blush. “Just a few strange dreams. I seem to have slept on the couch all night, but I don’t feel much worse for it.”
“Um, yes, I noticed,” Draco stammered for a moment before answering, “I mean, I was going to wake you, but you looked so comfortable like that that I didn’t have the heart to.”
Lucius smiled despite himself. What a sweet boy Draco could be. “No matter, Draco. I appreciate your consideration.” The smile that his son gave him made him flush more deeply, remembering his dream from last night. Lucius found his usual poise lacking this morning. The mind was such a strange thing. He didn’t want to address what it said of him that he would dream about his son doing such shameful things to him.