Lucius/Harry, as requested by Alysbowie
SHERDS
Lucius has a wicked sense of humour. Harry laughs quietly to himself, taking notes, balanced on the corner of the couch.
What a perfect person to find after the end. His flabbergasted expressions when Harry does things like grab his full head of hair to pull him down.
How he never comes undone.
Harry has been trying to work on this assignment all night. It seemed the thing to do, after he single-handedly destroyed the Wizarding World: University. Right now it’s an analysis of some play or another, some mad King or another, and Harry throws aside the notebook to tackle Lucius in the shower.
The sex is brutal, but Lucius always stops it before it gets too rough. Lucius, despite all first impressions, doesn’t care for pain. Or perhaps he doesn’t care for Harry. Harry doesn’t care.
It’s the way he straightens himself afterwards, sneers at Harry’s flat without looking at Harry, sneers at Harry’s yellow-brown salvage shop décor.
It’s the way he always comes back.
Harry doesn’t know where he goes. He imagines it’s to some utterly mundane muggle job, selling lady’s formal dress. Some way for him to afford those expensive suits. There are no galleons anymore, no way to reach the goblins, no manor, no Narcissa on his arm.
There is no Draco to pin the future on.
Lucius laughs through the ice in his eyes. Lucius smiles with hatred so bright it burns. Lucius doesn’t speak but to insult him, and Lucius doesn’t allow Harry to speak.
It is so fine that Harry does not need to become a Dark Lord to have this power over him.
XXXXX
(((i swear to god, harry gets more deranged every time i write him....)))
Lucius has a wicked sense of humour. Harry laughs quietly to himself, taking notes, balanced on the corner of the couch.
What a perfect person to find after the end. His flabbergasted expressions when Harry does things like grab his full head of hair to pull him down.
How he never comes undone.
Harry has been trying to work on this assignment all night. It seemed the thing to do, after he single-handedly destroyed the Wizarding World: University. Right now it’s an analysis of some play or another, some mad King or another, and Harry throws aside the notebook to tackle Lucius in the shower.
The sex is brutal, but Lucius always stops it before it gets too rough. Lucius, despite all first impressions, doesn’t care for pain. Or perhaps he doesn’t care for Harry. Harry doesn’t care.
It’s the way he straightens himself afterwards, sneers at Harry’s flat without looking at Harry, sneers at Harry’s yellow-brown salvage shop décor.
It’s the way he always comes back.
Harry doesn’t know where he goes. He imagines it’s to some utterly mundane muggle job, selling lady’s formal dress. Some way for him to afford those expensive suits. There are no galleons anymore, no way to reach the goblins, no manor, no Narcissa on his arm.
There is no Draco to pin the future on.
Lucius laughs through the ice in his eyes. Lucius smiles with hatred so bright it burns. Lucius doesn’t speak but to insult him, and Lucius doesn’t allow Harry to speak.
It is so fine that Harry does not need to become a Dark Lord to have this power over him.
XXXXX
(((i swear to god, harry gets more deranged every time i write him....)))