Title: Degenerate Sons
Fandoms: Harry Potter/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Pairing: Lucius Malfoy/Ethan Rayne
Feedback: Yay! To firstname.lastname@example.org Archive: List archives yes, otherwise want, ask, take, have Site: http://athenaion.populli.net
Disclaimer: Oh, what fun I could have if Lucius and Ethan were mine. Sadly this is not the case. Ethan belongs to Joss Whedon (and possibly Giles). Lucius belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling; I have a feeling this is not what she invented him for. A/N: What? Did you say gratuitous crossover? Don't be ridiculous... ahem. Summary: Lucius really couldn't care less how much of a disgrace Ethan is to wizardry
Lucius disapproves of associations with such people, naturally, and normally would forbid them outright. But he was reluctantly persuaded that Ethan Rayne could be useful, and so it is that he has become a regular sight at Malfoy Manor. As it is, Lucius looks upon him with disdain, limiting his visits, and it is always with a mild distaste that he considers him. Not to mention irritation. But as the man must be here, it would be a shame to let him go to waste; and Lucius has no intention of foregoing the opportunities so fortuitously laid before him. A little dalliance with the lower orders never hurt anyone. Indeed, he has often found it effective in weakening resolve and quickening submission. Though so far Ethan has proved remarkably unsubmissive.
He's not an easy man to ignore; he has a presence. Perhaps a little crude, but certainly compelling. He's dark, and Lucius enjoys the aestheticism, his contrast with the white-pale of the Malfoys. Mostly, of course, he enjoys the darkness contrasted with himself. Ethan seems to be surrounded by dark grey-brown smoke, with heat always lurking just below the surface. Almost sultry. And he has a palpable air of power, which Lucius is unused to; generally, guests at his manor are nervous and subservient - for good reason. It makes an amusing change to watch this man who strides about as if he owns the place, with an utter lack of respect. Of course, it would be less amusing if Lucius didn't know that he could snap his fingers and have Ethan subjected to a variety of ingenious tortures for the rest of his artificially extended lifespan. In essence, the man's appeal lies in the sex which is tangible around him, dark and coiling. And Lucius has developed an appreciation for Muggle clothing, which although strangely dull, clings to Ethan like an extension of his skin. The way he moves, most of all, languid, cat-like, almost too thin, parting the air with his body. Leaving his indelible mark and giving Lucius the sudden feeling that he has Ethan's entire body is wrapped around him at that precise moment. And also the extreme desire to be wrapped around Ethan's entire body at that precise moment.
They're in an out-of-the-way room down a rarely-visited corridor. It isn't that Narcissa would particularly mind - come to think of it, it's entirely possible that she's fucking Ethan herself. No, it's just that they've an unspoken don't-ask-don't-tell agreement when it comes to extra-marital alliances. Not that Lucius is thinking of Narcissa right now, as Ethan has him pressed up against the wall in a hard kiss, his tongue flicking in and around Lucius' mouth, Lucius' shirt and cloak seem to have been lost, and his dragonhide pants are feeling suddenly constraining. Ethan's hands are in Lucius' hair as his tongue trails up, flickering on his jaw, and Lucius is a little obsessed with Ethan's tongue (well, with his whole mouth really); it's almost obscenely long and shaped and snake-like. He can feel the line left by his mouth, glistening, burning hot in gold. Ethan's hard against his leg, which is still frustratingly clothed. Lucius inhales as Ethan's tongue lingers below his ear, and every sensitive nerve there is screaming out, and then he bites just a little on the ear and Lucius is incoherent.
Then the mouth's gone from his ear and it's going down his body instead, taking innumerable detours, sucking and licking and hot. The trails sparking, glittering, seeming pierced into Lucius' skin. His breathing is too fast, racing out of control, his heartbeat loud and insistent. He can barely tell where Ethan's tongue is any more, until it just oh-so-lightly touches the Mark on his arm, and a burning-ice shiver rocks through him, and he tenses, gasps.
"My," Ethan murmurs, amused, "this is an erogenous zone."
"Indeed," Lucius just about manages before all thought disappears and all he feels is the fireworks shooting straight up into his mind. Then nothing, and Ethan is looking up at him.
"I wonder if your Lord of All Evil knows about this function..." Still gasping a little, Lucius says,
"I'm assured he's quite well aware."
"He might not approve, though..." Ethan gives it a brief such and Lucius shudders again "...of it being corrupted by the likes of me." He smirks, delectable mouth curling up.
"I'm sure he'd forgive me... we all have our little rolls in the dirt now and then." Ethan draws away a little, pretends to look aggrieved.
"Now, Lucius... are you sure you should be saying things like that now?"
"Get on with it," Lucius growls, and Ethan shrugs, and then Lucius' body is aflame again. Ethan's tongue is everywhere at once, and all the time his fingers are drawing up and down Lucius' back, nails scratching lightly like spiders and then hard. He's filmed in sweat, everything steamy and hazy, his legs don't really feel like they can hold him up much longer, and then fucking finally the zipper's undone and the dragonhide's gone. Ethan's long, long slim fingers are almost touching, barely perceptibly running up and down his cock, the light touches crackling with blue sparks, and he's so tight, stretched taut. Then suddenly the fingers are gone and the hands are back to running over his hip bones, and Ethan's mouth is over his cock, burning, burning, lips and tongue and teeth scraping the tiniest bit and then just a little too much. Then nothing, and he looks down shocked at Ethan's wicked smile.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks angrily and out of breath.
"Aren't you going to say please?" Ethan inquires, more calm than Lucius could comprehend.
"No," he states, voice low and deep in his throat, and Ethan smiles indulgently. Appears to be considering, keeps him breathless and then
"Ah, well," he says, and his mouth is on him again, unbearably hot. Lucius' head is thrust back, he glances down and the dark red-black-blue aura round Ethan is stronger than ever. He's almost sure he really does see sparks, light and shadow rushing into Ethan and into himself, chaos-power surging and crackling round them. His breath is out of control, the sounds he's making don't seem to belong to him, and then there's just a blinding flash of white heat and he's melted, shuddering.
"Filth?" Ethan asks a moment later, Lucius' heart still running at triple speed, and he looks at him with amusement and contempt.
"Oh, yes." Ethan comes up, runs his tongue along Lucius' jaw, and breath hot in his ear, whispers,
"I'm the best you've ever had." Lucius smiles at him.
"I never claimed the two were mutually exclusive."
Draco comes home for Christmas, full of tedious anecdotes about the Potter boy and bursting with a ridiculously eager desire to please. Lucius notices that on the days Ethan is around, Draco's hair is sleeker, his pants tighter, and he strides through the corridors with more pride and disdain, perfecting that swish of the cloak. Lucius smiles inwardly; he's certainly his father's son. It's a day or two longer before he realises that Ethan is relishing the family resemblance a little too much, eyes lingering on his son's not unattractive form, and they seem often to be in heated discussion.
"You ought to stay away from my son," he says, not bothering with a threat because Ethan is well aware of what could happen, and Lucius is above detailed descriptions of torture. Ethan pouts a little.
"But he's such fun... so gloriously young and malleable."
"Precisely," he says coldly. Ethan looks amused.
"He might not appreciate you warning me off him. He seems to be rather enjoying my company - and let's face it, who can blame him?" He raises his eyebrows, leans back in his chair and looks at Lucius suggestively.
"I will not allow you to seduce my son." Ethan stares in mock-shock.
"I'd never even considered the idea. Now that you mention it, though..." he smiles "... what an excellent plan." Lucius just stares stonily at him, and he laughs.
"Oh, Lucius... surely you wouldn't deny your son the pleasures you've sampled?" Lucius smiles slowly, and drops his voice a little.
"It's all I ever do, Ethan."
He can't tell whether Ethan heeds his advice, but he assumes he does. Certainly Draco's looks of lust seem to have more envy than previously, and he is unusually sullen towards his father. Lucius makes a point of ordering him out of rooms in order that he and Ethan be left alone.
Nevertheless he's glad when Draco leaves (after New Year, and a party where he struts like a true Malfoy, in full knowledge of his beauty and using it to pick the cream of the crop to enjoy once and then discard, more maliciously than is strictly necessary). He fears Ethan's influence may catalyse an already overdue adolescent rebellion. He has an inkling that Ethan could take Draco far along the path on his never-ending quest to be Lucius, but better. Which would never do.
"That son of yours has quite the fascination with Harry Potter," Ethan drawls, reclining half-naked on an over-embroidered couch.
"He'll grow out of it," Lucius snaps; he is somewhat tired of Ethan's references to his family.
"It must be a bit embarrassing."
"We manage to keep it in the family. It's purely a rather juvenile infatuation. I can see the appeal - he's upstanding, heroic, passionate in his defence of virtue." Lucius sneers.
"Corruptible..." Ethan suggests, and Lucius chuckles.
"It could be a useful tool... get Draco to seduce Potter, deliver him into your master's waiting hands... well, if he has hands, I'm not totally clear... he would be pleased with you," Ethan says, mocking him and his loudly-advertised though slightly false loyalty.
"Or he would kill Draco and myself for daring to debase ourselves in such a way." Ethan waves his hand dismissively.
"Oh, collateral damage... it would be worth it, to go out with honour. Sacrifice your lives, for such a noble cause," he intones, looking incongruously grace and devoted. He breaks into a grin, seeing the hint of derision at this ridiculous idea that Lucius can barely hide. Ethan's cynicism makes him worryingly sceptical about Lucius' motives.
"I'm confident we will obtain Potter through more... traditional means," Lucius says acidly. Ethan rolls his eyes.
"Honestly... you're all so bloody limited. Steeped in centuries of outdated tradition and pointless ritual. You're as bad as the Muggles... it's really very boring."
"We have standards to maintain," Lucius snaps coldly, "which, of course, you would know nothing about." He sneers. Ethan leans his head back and smiles.
"Why, you're absolutely right."
"You really are a disgrace to wizardry," Lucius says casually, disparagingly, and Ethan laughs and glitters.
"And proud of it." He rises up from the couch, feline and radiating seduction. He comes over to where Lucius is sitting, and as he straddles him and Lucius feels that delicious tongue trailing sparks over his neck, he really couldn't care less how much of a disgrace Ethan is to wizardry. He is intensely annoying, of course; and a low form of life; and something of a danger to his own high status in the ranks of the Dark Lord. And very possibly, Lucius will have him killed... soon.
But not quite yet.
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