Bring me the nastiest colours known to humanity (blpaintchart) wrote in luciusfqf, @ 2008-02-08 12:22:00 |
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Title: Nimble Hands. (Part 1 of 2)
Author: blpaintchart
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: Lucius/Regulus
Summary: Lucius has been sent to recruit gifted student Regulus Black into the Death Eaters. However, those aren’t Potions magazines that the young wizard is studying in his room.
Warnings: It’s slashy and sweary, but not spectacularly smutty. Sorry.
Prompt: After a wardrobe malfunction, someone discovers Lucius' love of corsetry. They reach a mutually beneficial agreement.
Notes: The best Slytherin kisses go to westernredcedar for being my lovely beta, and trying her very best to sort me out (a thankless bloody task at the best of times!)
“I trust I’m not interrupting anything?”
“What?... Oh!... Mr Malfoy!”
“Oh, come now. I refuse to stand on such formalities. Mr Malfoy indeed! You’ll make me feel ancient.”
“Sorry. I... erm... I didn’t hear you knock.”
“Please, call me Lucius. Or ‘cousin’, perhaps. Yes, that has a nice familiar ring, wouldn’t you say?”
“I... I... Mother didn’t say you were coming.”
“No. Well it would appear that your mother is not necessarily an accurate judge of who is coming, hmmm?”
“Er... I...”
“Or when...”
“Oh, shit! No, that’s not...”
“Or indeed over what.”
“Shit, no! I haven’t been doing that! If that’s what you’re thinking. I...er...”
“Now now, there’s no need to explain, Regulus.”
“Oh, fuck! It’s not what it looks like.”
“Don’t worry yourself. We’ve all been young at some point. Yes, even me, ancient figure that I am now, apparently.”
“I didn’t mean that. Sorry.”
“Oh, do stop apologising. We expect a little less humility and a little more pride from our purebloods.”
“Oh fuck. How embarrassing.”
“Not at all! What else would a healthy sixteen year old boy find to occupy himself with?”
“I’m nearly eighteen.”
“Of course, how foolish of me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Indeed? Well then are you going to show me what you have there?”
“I... pardon?”
“The magazine you appear to have on your bed. Why, what on earth did you think I was asking to examine?”
“I... er... it’s not very interesting.”
“No? It seemed to be capturing your full attention a moment ago. Your very full attention.”
“I just meant... er... I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Oh.”
“I can explain.”
“Oh dear. How terribly disappointing.”
“It’s not even my magazine! I nicked it from my dickhead brother.”
“I’d expected better taste from you, Mr Black. You are rumoured to be the next bright young thing. Indeed, I am here on the Dark Lord's orders, to assess your...potential."
“But I thought they’d be pictures of girls! I didn’t know that my stupid brother’s queer.”
“So you didn’t mean to be looking at pictures of naked men, Regulus?”
“Of course not!”
“And you certainly didn’t mean to find the pictures stimulating?”
“Fuck, no! I’m not a pervert.”
“Pity.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.”
“So, Mr... I mean, Lucius. Why are you...”
“Oh dear me, but I’m forgetting my manners! I’m sure you’d care to know why I’m here, no?”
“You said something about the Dark Lord.”
“Very astute, Mr Black. So you do keep a brain in this head also, hmm? Rumour has it you excel in your studies.”
“Well, I’ve come top in my year for Arithmancy, Potions, and Transfig.”
“Very good. But what of Dark Arts? Or, as I suppose we must now call them, the ‘Defence Against Thes’?”
“I passed the OWLs, but to be honest, it’s not really my favourite subject.”
“I’m sure it soon will be.”
“Sorry?”
“Oh, nothing. As I was saying, it has come to our attention that your particular talents could be of some interest to the Dark Lord.”
“That’s erm... nice?”
“It’s more than nice, you foolish boy! Do you have any idea what an honour it is to be noticed by the Dark Lord?”
“No. Yes. It’s very...erm... very... cool.”
“Cool? What do you mean, cool? I was under the impression that you were of Noble and Ancient descent, not a thrice-damned American muggle! The Dark Lord has expressed interest in you! You ought to feel flattered, excited, alive with possibility. Not slightly chilled.”
“Sorry. It is flattering. I’m just not sure what...”
“Yes?”
“What would he want with me?”
“The Dark Lord is always eager to better acquaint himself with young people who show exceptional promise.”
“When you say promise...”
“He takes delight in surrounding himself with those who are equipped with quick minds and nimble fingers. And if they also have an aesthetic appeal... such as yourself... mmm... well let’s just say I am certain he will be best pleased with you.”
“You mean he wants me as a shag-piece?”
“A shag-piece? Good heavens, where do you get these charming terms from?”
“Same place as I get my jazz mags from, actually.”
“Indeed? And tell me, would you enjoy serving my Master in that intimate capacity?”
“Fuck, no!”
“No? Why not?”
“I prefer my men to be equipped with hair and eyelashes... and noses.”
“That’s a fair point. Although I notice you said ‘men’, hmm?”
“No I didn’t!”
“Oh, I think you’ll find you did. You seem to have incriminated yourself, young Mr Black!”
“Bugger.”
“Well, perhaps later. After all, patience is a virtue, is it not? Now, as I was saying...”
“I won’t do it! And you can’t make me!”
“Hmm? Now now, what are you talking about? I was about to ask if I may sit next to you. Keeping one’s guest standing is the very height of bad manners.”
“But I wouldn’t really call you a guest. I don’t remember inviting you in.”
“So you are as sharp as they say. Perhaps we should start again. Shall I sit down, and explain a few things, hmm?”
“Alright. But I’m not having that mad snakey bastard getting his hands on me.”
“Very well. Although I would urge caution with your choice of words.”
“Nothing you can say will change my mind, understand?”
“You make yourself quite plain.”
“I couldn’t do it with him. Eurgh!”
“Then it is fortunate that my Master does not require intimate physical contact from his acolytes.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Dark Lord doesn’t recruit youngsters to be his fuck-toys.”
“Oh, I see. But you said he wanted pretty people...”
“Indeed he does.”
“Well, if it’s not for shagging and whatnot...”
“Certainly not! Between you and me, he has quite a horror of carnal matters.”
“Then why does he want young people with clever fingers?”
“To fashion handicrafts.”
“Now I know you’re taking the piss!”
“Not at all.”
“But everyone knows that the Death Eaters spend their time in wild orgies, indulging in every perverted pleasure known to wizard kind!”
“Oh dear. Have you been talking to Severus?”
“Erm... perhaps.”
“It didn’t occur to you that he might have been having a tiny joke at your expense?”
“Well, it sounded like he’d seen loads of things. You know; sex things. Weird things.”
“All untrue, I’m afraid. He has quite the flair for the dramatic, does our Severus.”
“Bugger.”
“Yes, that too. I hate to disappoint, but you see the Dark Lord plans to rule the wizarding world through judicious use of his arts and crafts skills. Therefore those with nimble hands are eagerly sought.”
“Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting at all. What an anti-climax! I preferred Severus’ version; the sex sounded bloody brilliant. Anyway, how would you know whether I have nimble hands?”
“After the little display I just interrupted? I am in no doubt of it.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Tell me, Mr Black... Regulus. What do you propose we do?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“It would appear that a small dilemma has, for want of a better term, landed in our laps, has it not?”
“Er...”
“It is clear that you have, shall we say, a consuming interest in the pleasures of the flesh.”
“Well, I’m a teenage boy! What do you expect?”
“Naturally. However, as I believe I’ve already mentioned, my Master has no delight in such business.”
“So?”
“In fact, he finds the very thought of physical intimacy rather repulsive.”
“Well, that’s not my problem.”
“Although he does reserve a very particular abhorrence for those who, shall we say, bat for the wrong team.”
“What..?”
“After all, a young man, if he cannot fill his head full of thoughts of noble crafts and artistic pursuits, ought at least to be filling it with thoughts of young ladies. Ought he not?”
“Ah. I see.”
“Indeed. If the Dark Lord were to become aware of your penchant, he could make things very awkward for you.”
“What do you want, Malfoy?”
“Call me Lucius, please. Well now, let’s see. Perhaps we could help each other out.”
“Meaning?”
“Dear me, but what a long time we’ve spent in intimate discussion. Sitting on this bed is really rather uncomfortable. I feel quite... stiff.”
“Are you trying it on with me?”
“So blunt! Of course, as an impeccable host, I’m sure you’d desire to do anything in your power to ease my tension.”
“You’re queer, too?”
“Certainly not! I’m a Malfoy, and therefore merely require a little pampering, possibly from those skilful hands of yours. Or maybe from that pretty mouth.”
“You want me to suck you off?”
“Your charming mastery of the English language never fails to astonish.”
“Ha bloody ha. What if I say no?”
“No matter. Although it would be such a pity for the Dark Lord to discover your embarrassing secret.”
“Damn. Alright then.”