Title: I Was Just Pretending
Author: regarde
Characters: Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape
Rating: R
Warnings: Nothing out of the usual here.
Themes/kinks chosen: Public sex (or, at least, semi-public!)
Word Count: ~2200
Summary: Lucius is determined to instruct Severus, the newest Death Eater.
Author's notes: Sorry this is late. I'm sure it's still the 8th somewhere.


"Congratulations, Severus," says Lucius Malfoy, leaning back in his chair. "You've made the right decision." He glanced not so subtly at Severus' left arm, eyebrows raised.

Severus says nothing, lips set in a grim line. He raises his glass of wine in a toast to himself, but does not drink. Instead, he looks brazenly at Lucius; his eyes are calculating, his brain spins figures and numbers and probabilities.

Lucius pushes on, oblivious to Severus' silence. "You'll be working with me, at first," he says. He barely looks at his young protégé; instead, his attention is on himself: his fingernails, a stray thread on the sleeve of his robes, the way his leather boots shine just so when he kicks them out from under the table. "I don't usually work with the new initiates, you know, but I've chosen to make an exception. For you." He makes an exception in where his gaze falls, too; steel grey eyes meet Severus' own. Clearly, he wants an answer from the young man before him.

"I'm flattered," Severus drawls, though his thin fingers twitch lightly around the stem of the wine glass. "Truly."

Lucius is fooled by the weak admission; he only hears, only sees, what he wants to see, and today, he sees a young man who worships him, a young man who will bend to his will and his alone. "As well you should be," he agreed, tipping his own glass at Severus. "And we shall start today."

Severus arches one eyebrow in question. "Today? I've hardly—"

"Do not question me," Lucius says coldly, dropping a few coins on the table to cover the price of their drinks. "That is your first lesson."

Severus merely scowls and stands up, sliding his cloak back over his shoulders. "Right." He folds his arms over his chest and waits for Lucius to complete the long process of standing, rearranging his clothes, counting his money, brushing his hair back over his shoulder. He is young and full of himself, more so than Severus, who has more intelligence, more cunning than this blonde aristocrat who simply thinks the world should bend before him because it is what he desires.

"Come along," Lucius says, tapping his pretentious cane against the floor.

"Of course," Severus says, venom dripping from even the simplest of syllables.

***

Lucius leads his charge into the back of the restaurant, stopping in front of the door to the loo. "In," he says simply, pointing at the door with the head of his cane.

"I don't have—"

"In," he repeats, planting his hand in between Severus' shoulders and pushing him bodily through the door.

Severus stumbles into the room, biting down on the self-righteous string of curses that he already feels like flinging at his mentor.

"What are you playing at, Lucius?" he asks, planting his feet wide, vowing to turn himself into an immovable object.

"Your first lesson," Lucius says, propping his cane up against the sink, elegant fingers going to his collar, loosening his necktie. "Always listen to your superiors, particularly in dangerous situations. Turn around." He gestures at the wall briefly, before raising his hands back to his collar.

"Always listen to my superiors, or simply always listen to you?" Severus is not playing this game. He may be marked, he may be one of them, but he is not playing this game.

"It does not matter," Lucius says, slipping his tie free and draping it over his arm. He looks around the small loo in disgust; there is nowhere clean enough that he feels he can put any of his belongings. "I am your superior; thus, you must listen to me." It is that simple to Lucius; for him, there is an order to all things; only he is at the top of every list and hierarchy, even those he does not deserve to top. "Now turn around." He wiggles his finger in the air, motioning for Severus to turn. "Face the wall."

"I will not—"

Lucius cuts him off, going to Severus and bodily turning him around, leaning on him heavily to pin him to the wall.

"It does not matter," he repeats again, anger colouring his words this time. "This is an exercise in trust, Severus," Lucius purrs. "If you trust me, then we shall have no issues."

"Ah," Severus says, forehead pressing against the cool tile wall. "All you had to do was ask, you know," he adds, turning his head to glance back over his shoulder. "Rather than this." He shrugs feebly.

"That ruins the lesson, Severus," Lucius says, planting one hand on the wall, bracing himself, while the other rests at Severus' hip. "As I said, an exercise in trust. At any time, this door could open. Maybe someone is hiding in the stall right now, terrified to come out." He presses himself up against Severus, lips hovering just at the other man's ear. "We could be found out. Ruined."

"You would be," Severus said mildly. "What would Narcissa think?" He laughs bitterly, cheek pressed to the wall. "But I have nothing to ruin, nothing to lose." His eyelids fall shut and a small smile crosses his face; he is somewhere else, in his mind, to make it right, to make it okay.

"You do not play my game very well, Severus," Lucius scolds. "Regardless, we shall play it. Perhaps we shall open the door, then, if you are so unconcerned about sullying your reputation." Lucius reaches one arm around Severus' body, reaching for the pocket Severus keeps his wand tucked away in. "Shall we?" he asks, slipping the wand free and pointing it lazily at the door.

"If you so desire," Severus responds. He is already tired of the game.

Lucius smiles and shakes the wand at the door. It takes a few tries to see results; Severus' wand is as stubborn as its owner, and Lucius is more skilled at mental manipulation than he is at foolish wand-waving. When the door swings open, more than enough for an enterprising soul to see more than he bargained on, Lucius tucks the wand back into Severus' robes. "See?" he says, fingers travelling down Severus' torso. "Now it will be much more exciting."

"Mmph." Severus shrugs noncommittally. He compiles lists in his mind, a shopping list for the apothecary, a list of books he needs to rebind back in his flat, a hundred-and-one things he would like to say to Lucius but never will. Behind him, he hears the rustle of fabric, the sound of silk and linen and leather and wool, and he is not surprised when he feels Lucius' warmth much more keenly when the older man presses against him again. He is also not surprised when Lucius begins to hike up Severus' robes.

"You don't have to pin me here, you know," Severus says, tugging up his own robes. "I'm not going to run away."

"Fabulous," Lucius says, sliding his hand down the front of Severus' trousers. The younger man, quite against his resolve, bucked his hips forward, pushing up into Lucius' hand. "Eager?"

"Following orders," he responds, pushing his trousers down over his hips, letting them slither down his thin legs to pool at the floor.

"Ah." Lucius drops his other hand down, grasping his own erection, pressing himself up against Severus.

"Will you just—"

"In my own time." Lucius squeezes Severus's own cock, and the younger man shudders.

"I have another appointment; I can't be late."

"Nothing is more important than me," Lucius says, punctuating his words with another squeeze. Severus bites back a moan.

"Of course." Both men hear footsteps pause, then hustle past the ajar door; Severus flushes despite his lack of concern of being caught. Lucius chuckles lowly, letting go of his own cock, instead trailing his fingers across Severus' arse, one blunt finger probing at his entrance.

Severus whimpers, pushing his face into the wall.

"Charming," Lucius says, and he reaches forward once more to search out Severus' wand. He flicks it again, and Severus immediately feels warmed from the inside out. Severus has a thousand witty retorts to Lucius' spellwork, but they all fall away when Lucius plunges two fingers inside of the younger man without warning. He crooks his fingers just so, and Severus can hardly stop his reflexes, can hardly keep his body from pushing backwards, pushing the fingers deeper inside, searching to be stretched and filled and taken by this man who doesn't even like him, but then again, that's how it always is for Severus, just another person trying to get past revulsion and get it over with.

"Will you just—," he grunts through clenched teeth, "get on with it?"

"I give the orders," Lucius says, but he withdraws his fingers anyway, instead positioning the head of his cock at Severus' entrance.

Severus does not have the patience that Lucius requires of him, and perhaps that is the lesson he is meant to learn today. Regardless, he does not wait for Lucius to move; instead, he thrusts backwards, impaling himself, filling himself, taking Lucius in as far as he can.

"Eager," Lucius whispers, though his voice is unnerved, rough with something, lust or passion or desire, or maybe none of the above.

"Yes," Severus responds, and he begins to move, pushing his hips forward and back. If Lucius will not speed this along, Severus will, and he will make sure that at least he enjoys himself. He drops one hand down to his cock and fists it in time with his own movements. He would like for Lucius to touch him, to do something other than use him to teach a lesson to, but he knows that he cannot ask for the sun and the moon and the stars just yet.

Lucius groans as Severus bucks back, and he presses his fingers into Severus' hips, pressing hard enough to leave bruises on the sallow, sickly skin, though neither man cares. There are more footsteps at the door, and Severus dimly wonders whether this happens all the time, whether this upscale establishment is used to men fucking in the loo like they just couldn't wait to get back to the inn, or to the dark alleyway, or anywhere else but on the damn premises.

"You know," Lucius says, tipping his head forward to press his cheek into Severus', "I always knew you would come easily to me." Severus laughs bitterly, knowing there were few things that would drive him into this man's hands, but sometimes if you want to get ahead, you have to play by someone else's rules.

"Come, already," Severus says, fingers twisting around his cock, just wanting to be finished, to go back to his flat and drown himself with scotch and cigarettes and wonder what the hell he ever did to find himself rutting with Lucius Malfoy in a loo of all places.

"Thought you'd never ask," Lucius says, a bitter smile crossing his lips as he takes control, slamming forward, bent on appeasing his lust for pleasure, for dominance. Severus knows he will be ignored and is surprisingly okay with this; his fingers, after all, know what he likes more than Lucius ever will. The older man's breathing speeds up and Severus knows it is almost over. Lucius' breath hitches once, twice, three times, and then halts altogether as he buries himself inside of Severus and comes, a silent gasp freeing itself from his mouth. Severus sighs and pulls on his cock, eyes shut and envisioning that it's not his hand catching the come that spills from him, imagining that it's someone else, someone he lost a long time ago.

They are both silent for a while, and Severus is glad that he doesn't have to make conversation. Eventually, though, Lucius' weight pressed against his back is too much, and he sighs, shaking the mess from his hand. Severus twists and cranes his neck to look at Lucius. "Are you done?" he asks, nudging back with his shoulder.

"Mm." Lucius pushes off of Severus, eyeing the other man carefully before turning around, pulling his own wand from its sheath in his cane. He waves it once, removing all evidence of their little indiscretion, then waves it at his own trousers, which shoot up his legs and refasten, all in its proper place. Severus, fumbling with his own trousers, snorts at Lucius' display of sloth, of laziness, of opulence, perhaps.

"Are we through?" he asks dispassionately, reaching for his own wand. Lucius' cleaning spell is as shoddy as the rest of his spellwork, and Severus still feels unclean.

"Of course," Lucius replies, clothing already back in place, everything about him looking impeccable. "Do you understand your first lesson?"

"Of course, my lord," Severus says, tone bitter and spiteful and full of subtleties that Lucius will never understand, not in a thousand years.

"Then I have nothing more for you today." Lucius waves at the door, still ajar.

Severus takes his leave, then, somewhat reluctant to turn his back on Lucius, but not interested in spending one more minute in that cramped little room.

On his way out of the restaurant, he feels as though all eyes are on him, and he wonders if it's just his own paranoia, or if this is what Lucius wanted him to feel.