It Was Enough

by Skye

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape/Lucius Malfoy

Rating: NC-17

Summary: It wasn't love. It was enough.

It Was Enough

by Skye

Severus apparated to the edge of Malfoy Manor, walking slowly up the ice slicked path. The wind that whipped his hair into his face was bitterly cold, stinging his eyes and brining a flush to his normally sallow complexion. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, head down as he made his way carefully up the steep front stairs.

He sighed as he knocked and waited for the house to admit him--or not. He also shivered and cursed under his breath, hands encased in leather fisted and holding the heavy woolen cloak closed.

The door swung open more quickly than he'd expected and he walked into the familiar hall. He could almost hear Draco's laugher, and before that the chatter of two boys playing games together. One fair and elegant, the other dark and awkward, but none-the-less together.

Circumstance, family, necessity and Houses.

He and Lucius Malfoy had been thrust together time and again over the years. Fate never letting them separate by far. Playmates in their youth, lovers as adults. Severus had followed Lucius, in all but his allegiances. Lucius had followed Voldemort, and he had kept the pretense of obedience while choosing Dumbledore.

They had fought about it, of course. Screamed and yelled and called one another names. Words flying almost too quickly to hear, angers soaring and temperatures rising. Neither had been willing to budge on the issue. Each had been certain in the end the other would be the one dead.

In the end they had both survived, though not without scars, and not without cost. Personal and public, emotional and physical, tangible and vaporous. Severus had been Dumbledore's tame death-eater, Lucius Voldemort's pet. They'd been used, both of them and each hated it with a passion and intensity no other would have understood.
None except themselves, at least.

They knew. A sharp glance, or terse word, was all it took for the state of the other to be readily apparent, as easily readable as if were written in large block letters on clean blank parchment. The anger, the rage, the jealousy and resentment.

Boot heels echoing on marble as he climbed the stairs, going by route to Lucius, without so much as even conscious awareness. There was no question of his coming. He had been in Azkaban, though very briefly during the first war. Lucius had been there for months while his minions and connived and schemed, manipulated and bribed.

There was no question of innocence. Lucius was guilty. Of everything he'd been accused of and more. It didn't' matter. So was he. He didn't care who had gone in his place, didn't care that the mechanizations had cost Draco his mother. Narcissa had never been more than a pawn and brood mare anyway. Lucius, Lucius was the one person he had ever been loyal to. Lucius was family.

He pushed the door open with one black gloved hand and strode through confidently and the figure seated at the desk looked up slowly. Eyes dimmer, face paler and with shadows, but with the same unmistakable arrogance presence as he stood. A king holding court, for all that he was battered he was no less regal. Tarnished he still shone brightly.

"Severus. What a pleasant--" urbane voice, completely steady, though the hands resting on the desk trembled slightly. And why not? Azkaban would shake even the strongest of men. And for all Lucius' pride and arrogance he was... more brittle than some might see.

"You are not surprised," Severus said flatly, "You knew I would come."

"Yes. I knew. Would you care for a drink?"

"No," Snape replied quietly, sighing and looking at Lucius with something like pity.

"Mm. Of course not. What do you want?"

Snape crossed the room in long strides, and Lucius circled from behind the desk. They met in front of it. Severus pulling off his gloves with his teeth as Lucius watched with what was a mockery of his normal impassivity.

As a cold hand slid into his hair, Lucius' eyes closed briefly and when they opened they were clear, cold and gray. A pale, long fingered hand twined itself into his hair, pulling roughly. Snape regarded him levelly as Lucius pushed him backward, over the desk, hard wood digging into his hips and kissed him roughly. Teeth biting, tongue moving quickly remapping familiar terrain.

Hands dug into his thighs, scratching roughly as the brutal kiss continued, then tearing off his cloak and burrowing closer. Lucius was cold. He had always been cold. So cold he seemed to leach the heat out of Severus, but Snape's hands came up to grasp him, pull him closer, submitting to the cold and the ferocity. Welcoming it, craving it, needing it.

Hands tore together, working to remove their clothes, short nails and teeth drawing blood that seeped hot against their pale bodies. Falling to the floor, bruising, crushing. Bodies slick and moving together, the sharp burning pain of being entered unprepared. Sweat falling into his eyes as he stared up, mesmerized by those beautiful, chilling eyes.

He could feel Lucius warming, see him flushing and he watched with amazement as his skin took on the soft sheen of sweat reflecting in tourch light. Coming alive under his hands. He could feel Lucius' heart begin to race, his breath against his face as he panted, and finally the almost scalding hot liquid that bathed his irritated flesh as much as his raw and bleeding soul.

He spent the night at the Manor. One of the guest rooms, Lucius asleep, Lucius' hair spread out across his chest as Severus stroked it slowly, awake and watching. Lucius felt warmer to him now. Still cool, but... filled with life. There'd been no romantic declarations of undying love, no words of profound gratitude, and certainly no tearful confessions.

There'd been very few words at all. Neither needed them. They both knew. Lucius had needed him. Severus had come. It was enough.

END