Author: Mosh Title: Not So Lonely Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
He stormed aimlessly through the beating rain, his hair plastered to his face, his smart black suit utterly drenched, and his jaw set tight. Then the limousine pulled up. It rolled beside him along the grubby curb, like a sleek, prowling beast. Sirius glanced sideways at it with a scowl. It was slow, quiet; even the windscreen wipers weren't moving. A black-tinted window slid down a fraction, raindrops bouncing furiously off the glass, shining in the streetlamp light like crystals. "Get in," said a smooth, familiar voice. "Fuck off," said Sirius, shivering. He tried to ignore the force of the cold rain as it pounded down upon him. He soldiered along the pavement angrily. The car purred loudly, catching him up again. The voice didn't sound offended. "Enjoy the wedding, Black? Happy, are they?" Sirius gritted his teeth and kept walking. Water was seeping into his shoes, his feet frozen. Ignore it. Keep moving. He wouldn't have even been wearing these stupid shoes and this stupid suit had it been any other stupid day. Had it not been James's wedding day. He carried on moving - and the car carried on following - until he reached the end of the pavement and he found himself standing at an unfamiliar junction of an unfamiliar road. He looked left and right, but couldn't see any signs - why the fuck weren't there any signs? There were always signs - this was London, for Christ's sake. The street was dark, empty, alien, and for a moment Sirius stared sourly at the dripping drainpipes and bursting dustbins, hopelessly lost, soaked to the skin, angry, hurting, and not at all in the mood for this shit. He turned to the limo, eyeing it suspiciously. "In," said the voice, the door opening with a very faint creak. A few heartbeats, a few frustrated seconds, and Sirius, at a loss and without any other choice, splashed through the puddle in the gutter and slid into the back seat. The door closed behind him. "Drive on," said Lucius. "Head west." The car revved and continued down the street. The inside was as immaculate as the outside; spacious, light-grey coloured seats. It was far wider than it looked on outward appearances and it smelt strongly of brand new leather, mildly of expensive aftershave, and faintly of alcohol. The front seats were closed off by a sheet of dark tinted glass, so Sirius had no idea who was driving. If there was anyone driving at all; it may have been enchanted to do as Lucius bid it. That would explain the stationary windscreen wipers; no one would be able to navigate in this weather without them. "What's with the Muggle transport?" Sirius muttered, trying to keep the cold-induced tremor out of his voice. His damp trousers squeaked against the upholstery as he shifted. "I have no intention of getting wet. I like fine things. This vehicle serves both purposes nicely." Lucius leaned towards Sirius, his plain black shirt stretching across his shoulders distractingly. His eyes roved over the soggy young man with mild distaste. "You're a wreck," he simply stated after a moment or two. "You look like a drowned, wretched dog." Sirius didn't answer. He turned away and stared defiantly out of the window at the grey London streets as they whizzed past. Shadowed shop doorways failed to hide the black figures of the homeless. They crouched under porches to keep out of the violent rain. "Planning to catch your death, were you?" Lucius continued, determined to get Sirius to talk. "On a path of destruction," he mused. "Did you think that maybe Potter would take pity on you if you caught pneumonia? Maybe even take you into the happy home, allow you to skirt around the marriage bed-" "Shut it," Sirius warned. Lucius shrugged and then smiled condescendingly. "Tell me... did she look lovely - the Mudblood bride?" Sirius bit the inside of his cheek, but didn't retort. For once, he couldn't retort - he was in no mood to talk about the events of the day, especially the wedding itself. He swallowed and stared down at his lap. Lucius closed in on him momentarily, brushing the wet strands of his hair away from his face and whispering low into his ear. He felt warm, deceptively warm, and Sirius didn't push him away. "You could do so much better, Sirius. So much." A thumb brushed Sirius's chin, turning his face. Lucius's eyes were very large up this close, icy blue, his eyebrows thin flicks of gold above them. "Potter clearly has no class," he added, a small curl to his lips. "I doubt he realises what he's given up by choosing the Muggle-born over you." "How do you- What's it to you, anyway?" Sirius asked. Lucius had the cheek to look slightly affronted. "We're going to be family soon. What kind of cousin would I be if I didn't take an interest in my own family?" "Interest? Yeah, right. What would 'Cissa say about this kind of interest, then? I bet she doesn't even know you're here, does she?" He still didn't push Lucius away, hung up on the sudden closeness of him, the sharpness of his face, the poisoned compliments and the wicked thrill he got from hearing James and Lily insulted. There was a tight ball of guilt at the pit of his stomach, heavy and ripe, but he chose to ignore it. He was too drained to care right now, too unhappy. "Narcissa and I aren't married yet. We have an... understanding." Lucius, closer than ever and his expression so self-assured, smiled. "Of course, you'd know all about that sort of thing." He smoothed his hand down over Sirius's throat, fingers spidering out to stroke the column of flesh and Sirius suppressed a shiver. "And," Lucius added quietly, "what makes you think she doesn't already know I came out to find you tonight?" Sirius huffed, but he couldn't put much force into it. He was tired of giving a damn. He just wanted to stop feeling like crap about the wedding and the bleak-looking future. No more heady nights out with James, no more stumbling into Sirius's flat in the early hours to kiss and laugh and frot and fuck, because James was married now, and the deal had been that the sex stopped after the wedding. Yeah, he knew all about those kinds of 'understandings'. "Sirius." Lucius wasn't even bothering to be subtle, his breath hot against Sirius's neck, his hand slipping down over Sirius's chest, toying with the buttons of his suit jacket. Sirius wasn't stupid; although he thought he might enjoy Lucius, he knew it wouldn't make a difference in the long run. But then, he wasn't ready to face the long run just yet. "You deserve," Lucius said again, softly, his breath whispering through Sirius's hair, "so much more." With that, he released Sirius and leaned back in the leather seat, severing all contact. He sat, arm draped across the back of the seat, a smug, expectant look on his face. Sirius blinked at him, breathing hard. The limo shuddered violently as it crossed a speed grill in the road. Sirius suddenly felt a fierce jolt, and then they were rising, the car tilting upwards towards the sky. Lucius was still, sitting back leisurely, staring at him, not at all fazed by the sudden change in direction or gravity. He didn't bother to cover the hard rise at his groin, pushing up against the material of his trousers. In fact, it rather looked like he was deliberately displaying himself. Sirius made his decision quickly. He moved across the seat to straddle Lucius's lap, hands pressing against Lucius's shoulders, leaning down to kiss Lucius hungrily, quite sure he shouldn't be doing it but not caring a whit. Lucius anticipated this, moving his hands around to cup Sirius's arse and pull him flush against him. Sirius groaned into Lucius's mouth, rocking on his lap to brush their cocks together, squirming for more friction. He didn't think about James. In fact, he didn't think about anything other than how Lucius's hands were pulling at their belts and slipping inside the fabric of their trousers to free them both. How Lucius's hot, sultry breath washed over his mouth, as he muttered a charm. How Lucius's fingers became pleasantly slick against his cock. How the silver rings Lucius wore grazed smoothly up his length. How Lucius was really fucking good at this. How, if Lucius didn't slow down, he was going to finish embarrassingly fast, all over both of them. Sirius broke away to breathe, thrusting his hips forward, their hard cocks sliding together, circled in a web of steady fingers. Briefly, his eyes fell on the back window past Lucius's shoulder, and he noticed that there were no more grey shapes beyond the glass, beyond the world of the limo. The car was speeding now, soaring over the city - it had taken off; the lights were far below like dull glow-worms in the darkness beneath the shifting 4am storm clouds. Sirius could feel the pull of motion in his bones, the ascent; feel the force of it thrilling in his stomach. It was almost like flying on his motorbike, weightless, mindless, but without the wind in his hair, without the ice-cold atmosphere or the chill air freezing his fingers to the handlebars. Here, in this car, the only thing in his hands was Lucius Malfoy's soft hair. Instead of the icy breath of night, there was Lucius Malfoy's lips on his throat, a tongue tracing a wet line up to his jaw, a steady pull on his cock, a solid, measured heat smoothing up and down. The kisses turned to bites and Sirius pressed closer, catching Lucius's hands in his own and uttering a helpless "Fuck". As Lucius bit down harder on his neck he couldn't hold back the flood, spurting over their joined fingers. He drew in what breath he could and kept pumping his hips, feeling utterly free and cursing "Fuck" again. Slumping forward, he lay against Lucius's body, groaning, letting it wash out of his system, letting it all go. The limo sped through the sky, steering them like a ship riding a sea of stars. And Lucius, somehow still navigating the waves of the storm, was now thrusting up against him. And when he came his milk-white skin stretched across his sharp cheekbones, his eyes fell shut and his whole expression grew vulnerable for those few seconds of orgasm, his mouth quivering. He let out the longest, deepest breath, and yet more heat spread over their clothes and hands. A deeply satisfied smile dusted over Lucius's mouth as he released himself and Sirius. He looked up into the face of his cousin-to-be. "There," he simply said. Sirius slid back onto the seat beside Lucius. He knew he was still being watched carefully, so he closed his eyes and, after a while, he felt the car slowly descending. He disliked the feeling of sinking, knowing his worries lay waiting for him somewhere below, inescapable. The sky was growing indigo in the distance as the morning edged towards them. The wait for the crunch of tire against gravel seemed to take forever - Sirius's unease grew, every downward metre an anxious heartbeat - down, down, down. At one point, before they landed, he heard a very quiet, sibilant: "Scourgify." He found the limo - and, strangely, Lucius's presence - comfortable, set apart from his normal life. He was almost dry, and suddenly he didn't want to leave the quiet humming of the car, very reluctant to let go of this unexpected, compact world he'd escaped to after such a terrible day. The rain had eased to an exhausted drizzle when Sirius was finally dropped off, right in front of his flat building. As he got out Lucius called to him smoothly, "Look at it this way, Black. At least you're not feeling quite so lonely any more." Sirius didn't say anything. He bit his lip and stepped away from the curb. "See you soon." Lucius issued him one last lazy smile, his eyes bright in the streetlamp light. Then the window rolled up and the limo drove off down the road, rounding the corner at the end and out of sight. Sirius went indoors, his body still pleasantly sated and mind blissfully distracted by the memory of Lucius's words and touch. He had been right; Sirius didn't feel so lonely now. Though he couldn't help but wonder how long it would last. ~Fin~ |
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