Title: His Perfect Image
Author: ldybastet
Characters: Lucius/Draco
Rating: Hard R - Mild NC-17
Warnings: Incest, adult/minor
Kinks chosen: Narcissism
Word Count: 916
Summary: If Narcissus had been able to get what he most desired, he wouldn't have pined away.
Author's notes: Beta-read by viverra_libro and lysa1.

His Perfect Image

Lucius liked his mirror. It never lied to him or tried to deceive him. If he had had a bad day, trying to placate the Dark Lord with clever words and the suffering under his use of the Cruciatus curse, the mirror wouldn't hide the dark rings under his eyes or the bruises of strained muscle tissue. By the same token, it never hid his beauty either; never downplayed it, never brushed it away, but showed it clearly to him, radiant in its perfection. And Lucius enjoyed admiring it.

Lucius undressed slowly, eyes locked on the image in front of him as the rich, dark green velvet was gradually revealing his pale, flawless skin. As always, he found it impossible not to touch it, to explore it with light touches, and his fingertips moved downwards as the fabric was parted.

'Yes,' he whispered when the robe fell to the floor, pulled down as if by invisible hands, and he stood naked before himself, his fingers curling around his hard cock.

~*~

The boy had never looked more perfect, Lucius thought as he let his gaze caress the naked form of his son. Draco was lying in his bed, and the moon reached through the window to paint him in silver. Lucius knew that his son was watching him in turn through half-closed eyes, knew that he was awake, but he didn't say anything. Draco hadn't moved when Lucius carefully folded back the duvet, and didn't move now either, letting his father satisfy his craving for his young beauty.

Lucius recognised the shape of leg, the curve of the neck, the silken hair - pale blond tresses a little shorter than his own though - that fanned out over the pillow... So much like himself.

His son, his flesh and blood. Draco was a part of him, an extension; he was Lucius and yet a separate being. He was both Lucius and Lucius'. And Lucius desired him for this. Because he could touch this part of himself and still be surprised at the reactions his hands and mouth could produce, at the sounds he could coax from this young image of himself. He could touch and caress and make love to this lovely boy, the way he could not make love to himself.

Under Lucius' cunning hands, Draco could no longer lie still and impassive. His breathing was heavier and small moans found their way over his lips as Lucius caressed his slender body, and when Lucius' mouth closed around his straining member, Draco could no longer hold back the word that had fought for freedom ever since Lucius entered his bedroom.

'Please!' Draco was both begging and demanding at the same time.

Music to Lucius' ears, and encouraging his teasing tongue and embracing lips to seduce more sounds and more words from Draco, until the boy writhed ceaselessly under him, bucking up and screaming his pleasure for the entire Mansion to hear. Lucius swallowed him down, licking every drop from his cock, and then moved to kiss him deeply.

Draco wrapped his arms around Lucius' more massive frame and sighed contentedly, pressing against his father's engorged cock. His tongue slowly circled Lucius', playing and dancing together with it for a while, until Lucius broke the kiss to turn his attention to Draco's body once more.

Lucius burned with desire. He needed to feel and taste the pale skin, needed to devour and possess the young boy in an attempt to slake a lust that he feared would never be completely satisfied. He kissed and licked his way over Draco's body, ignoring the little details that set them apart. They annoyed him and filled him with frustration at times; he would banish them, mould Draco into an even more perfect copy of himself, if he knew it wouldn't be discovered and perhaps questioned. So for now, he overlooked them until such a time that Draco could be all his and no one else would see him naked apart from Lucius... And the rest, he worshipped with the same reverence that was otherwise reserved for Lucius himself when he was alone in his own bedroom.

With slick fingers, Lucius penetrated his son, little by little, to prepare him, to relax and arouse him, to make him ready for Lucius to share his lust with. It was not until Draco was gasping, his eyes glazed with desire and an almost animal need for his father to fill him, that Lucius had mercy on his son. Hooking Draco's legs over his shoulders, Lucius entered him slowly, savouring every little sensation, every sound and twitch of the body under him. He enjoyed feeling the tightness that gradually gave way to him, opened up to receive him, and the way that Draco arched up against him - unashamedly, wanton, needing his father, needing more pleasure.

It was sheer beauty to see Draco's flushed face with its look of slight awe as Lucius sank deep into him. It was art to watch the slim body undulate and try so hard to communicate its need for more, more, more...

Lucius fucked his son, but in reality it was an image of himself that he was ravishing, night after night. And when they lay together, side by side, relaxed and sated, and the only caresses bestowed were those of the moon, he asked, 'Who are you?'

'I'm you,' Draco replied in a hushed whisper. 'I'm yours.' And Lucius smiled and pulled him into his arms.