Corpus Delicti

Author: Khirsah
Website (for sequels and lots of good stories ^^):

Pairing: a sordid mix of Lucius/Severus/James,
Severus/James, Lucius/James, Lucius/Severus, and
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Go ahead, just let me know
Feedback: anything, anywhere, any kind. Flames, even--
I’m a big girl now.

Disclaimer: I don’t even pretend to own them.

Summary: There is no such thing as a victimless crime.

Notes/Warnings: This is *messed* *up*. My Lucius here is *INSANE*. No, this this not pretty and this is not happy and this isn’t the fun, sweet James/Lucius that I had intended to write. It’s dirty and dark and just *messed* *up*. Lucius is insane, Snape is a little mad himself, and everything is dark and bloody and messy, and it only promises to get *worse* as I go along. So if blood sport and criminal obsession and fetishist fantasies squick you silly, **PLEASE** don’t start reading this.

If, however, you can deal with blood and strange, acid-trip descriptions of anatomy and death and lots of pain, then I hope you enjoy it. This comes from a darker place than I knew I had inside of me.


“I will burn for you
feel pain for you
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart
I’ll tear it apart

I will lie for you
I can steal for you
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see...
you’re just like me.

Violate all the love that I’m missing
throw away all the pain that I’m living
you will believe in me
and I can never be ignored”

-- Garbage ‘#1 Crush’





At the start of his obsession, it had nothing to do with lust. It was not about the warm, crooked smile or the sparkling blue eyes. It was not about the pale, smooth skin or the slender, athletic build. It wasn’t about the wild, untamed hair, no matter that he longed to grip the ruffled black curls within his fingers and pull that sinfully pink mouth down to taste his cock. No matter that he wanted to yank and pull and taste and prod and *bite*, spilling blood and come across their austere school robes...

The rich, lilting voice had no thrall over him. The smooth, magnetic tones didn’t have the power to tug at his soul or skate silkenly over his body, by turns heating and freezing him.

It wasn’t about the lust. Not then. Not at the beginning.

It was something so much *more* than lust.

Lucius Malfoy rarely spoke to the object of his focused fascination. Instead he would watch from his distant perch and devour with his eyes the unintentional, innocent little tilt of that head. Sunlight would stream in through the windows to catch on James’ round, foolish glasses, shattering the shadows with an incandescent burst of *gold*. It was a halo that flashed about him, whispering innocence in the artless arching of his pale neck and the tender curve of his wet, virgin lips.

It was the innocence that fascinated Lucius so. The untouched brilliance of his smiles and the child-like lack of knowledge in his achingly blue eyes. James would sit and listen to the bawdy jokes of his friends, laughing at all the right moments, winking lewdly at the others, but the telling blush would always stain past those ears, creeping down from behind the delicately curved shells to blossom pink and delicious across his cheeks. Lucius wanted to peel away the soft, pale skin so he could see the subtle transformation, could watch the blood slide through the delicate tracery of vessels, pushing the hollow tubes up and out with the force of the magic heat sliding below the surface. Oh, Lucius so wanted to pull away at that skin, that hair, those eyes, tugging away the extraneous layers to touch the pulsing core of innocence and gently stroke the beating heart. He wanted to crack open the beautiful skull and cup that brilliant golden brain within his hands to feel the weight and gently rim the corded crease with the very tip of his tongue, coming away wet and slick and *knowing*, silvery strands of connective membrane hanging in glistening trails from his teeth.

The innocence. He lusted after breaking that gentle shell open more than the rest of the entire school watered for Sirius Black, first-class whore and prick, all black hair and swaggering ass. Lucius didn’t want that-- he didn’t want the vicious fight and the quick, easy tumble. He didn’t want a masterful lover in his bed, slipping dominance over him like a muffling pillow. He wanted flesh to pink and prick and bite and kiss, opening up the heat to a new world of possibility.

He wanted James Potter. Wanted him almost as much as *I* wanted Lucius Malfoy. Almost as much as I wanted to lay him down and kiss his parted lips and lick at the gentle corner of his mouth that sometimes trembled when he was mad. Almost as much as I wanted to hold him and card my hands through his silver-magic hair and press him against my body and worship him. I’d let him to do anything to me just to have him, and he knew it. He knew it. I could read the knowledge in his fever-blue eyes, shining and jewel-like and almost mad.

He knew how much I wanted him. He let me know how much he needed James.

And I...

Fuck it all. I...

Lucius Malfoy always got what he needed.






“I wonder what it would taste like?” Lucius wondered aloud, leaning back into the soft darkness of the bed, arms curled around the black pillow and chin resting delicately against the even stitching of the hem. “Something marvelous, I’d imagine.”

“It’d taste like blood,” Severus sighed, hands moving inelegantly over an old potions bottle as he wiped away the last traces of seccharia poison. He’d been working on the potion for a long time, neck and back aching as he hunched over his small cauldron in the Slytherin common room in the depths of the night, muscles screaming as he stirred and stirred and stirred, black eyes going glassy and glazed with sleep and hope. It had been intended as a present for Lucius-- a potent, deadly gift to prove his trust and love and loyalty as he attempted to prove it every night, with every kiss he did not force onto the curved coral mouth.

At first, Lucius had been delighted with the present, blue eyes sparkling cold and bright as he threw his arms around the thin neck, hands clutching into the lanky hair and mouth curving up as he kissed Severus’ trembling lips, tongue pink and delicious as he lapped carefully along the bottom curve of his mouth. Then, with a vicious bite and a smile, he had pulled away to admire the newest deadly poison which he would use to taunt his friends with later, threatening them with kisses and smiles and silky, threading arms.

His pleasure at a new play toy never lasted long, however, and Severus knew he’d have to think of something else soon to keep the other boy’s attention, something to keep him willing to focus on *him*.

“What else could blood taste like?”

“That’s ridiculous,” the silver-haired boy snapped, glaring up at his friend with dangerously sparkling eyes.

“How can blood taste like anything other than blood?” Snape asked wearily, turning his head to look at the angel splayed wantonly across his bed. ~Not yours not yours not yours~ his mind chanted, even as his heart constricted at the achingly vulnerable beauty. What his eye saw his hand wanted to touch and touch and *touch*, stroking love through his fingertips. Stroking divine adoration. “Even if it *is* Potter’s.”

“You’re so common,” Lucius snarled, hand snaking out in a blinding flash to knock the old bottle out of Snape’s light grasp. Severus watched in resigned disinterest as it sailed from his fingers, spinning glass sides shooting a rainbow of color across the floor as the encroaching light from the window span through, then shattered in a tinkling of glass as fractured shards slithered across the floor.

~I’d better clean that up~ he thought dully, but he didn’t move from the bed.

Lucius continued as if nothing had happened. “James Potter has *magic* running through his veins-- I can smell it when he walks by, spicy and hot and sweet and begging to be lapped at. I wonder if he’d let me,” he continued, rising to his knees, hands curving into claws against the black velvet throw as he slid his lower body down into a seductive crouch, robe pulling aside to expose the smooth line of his pale thighs. “Let me bite him open and sip from the arteries, nipping them in two with my teeth...” He met Severus’ stare with one of his own, eyes sparkling and dilated. “I’ve never tasted *any* blood before, you know,” he whispered, voice sending shivers of arousal through the other boy. “Not even my own.”

“I...” he tried to begin, but his words caught tight in his throat, constricted by fear and awe and love and loathing as Lucius slid across the intervening space, eyes flashing and mouth descending, wanton and cruel, to press warm against his neck. Snape sighed and let his head fall back as clever fingers pinched his nipples and small, white teeth tugged at the tendons attaching his shoulder.

“I wonder if I could taste *yours*, Sevvie.” Malfoy’s hot tongue darted across his adam’s apple and slithered across the arches of his collar bone. His breath blew hot across Snape’s skin as he cupped his cheeks in his palms and looked into his eyes, lids dropping so his lashes fluttered mesmerically against his skin. “Would you let me taste you?” he breathed against the parted lips, body twining until he was in Severus’ lap, knees braced on either side of him. “Would you do that for me?”

“Yesssssss,” Severus hissed, black eyes squeezing shut as Lucius lightly ground against him, brushing his ass against his painfully hard erection, nails raking maddening furrows against his nipples. “Ooh yess.”

“Wonderful!” Lucius breathed, hands bracing against Snape’s chest to push him back onto the bed. Severus squirmed up into a better position, thighs falling apart wantonly as he leaned back onto his arms, hair falling about his face as he watched with pounding interest as Lucius coiled off of the bed and crouched down amongst the glittering shards, hands ghosting over the floor, eyes locked with Severus’ as he reached for a large, long shard, turning it delicately in his hands. He stood in one long, seductively graceful arch, lashes flickering. The light from the window gleamed on the wicked, pointed tip, shattering light across the pale face.


“Now then,” Lucius said, tapping the pointed end against his lips as he looked at his ever-willing friend. “Where do I most want to taste...?”

“Lucius,” Severus moaned, teeth biting down hard on his lips to force back the pleading cries. Begging merely fueled the teasing, making it last for hours sometimes as the silver-haired boy promised the world... and delivered nothing.

Elusive as smoke and mirrors and ever so addictive.

“I think...” Lucius’ voice purred across him as the other boy leaned forward, one hand touching his knee, making him jump reflexively at the contact, pushing his robe up past his thigh. “I think *here*.” His wet tongue followed on the heels of his gentle caress, and Severus tossed back his head into a groan, body arching up towards the teasing, light lapping. “Oooh, good Sevvie,” Lucius whispered against his skin, nipping at the delicate crease between thigh and hip, running the very tip of his tongue down the heated, secret crevice. “Sooo good...”

“Lucius,” he gasped, hands gripping into the dark bed sheets to keep himself from grasping at the pale hair bobbing so close to where he wanted him, *needed* him to be. “Lucius...”

“Yes, you want it.” Talented fingers ghosted across his straining erection as Lucius pushed his robe up over his hips, and Severus bucked helplessly into the touch, cock jerking reflexively. Lucius’ index finger trailed lightly over the very tip of his erection, coming away wet and gleaming with pre-come before lightly tracing the stickiness against the pale, vulnerable skin of Snape’s thigh. “There,” Lucius whispered, kissing the spot gently, almost tenderly, ignoring Severus’ low, pitiful moans. “There. Right there.”


His tongue lapped over the skin once, then twice, long maddening swipes that swirled deliciously across his skin and teased him into dark, desperate moans. Severus sighed, then screamed when the sharp, jagged edge of the glass cut into his thigh, biting down into his skin in a flash of blindingly sharp pain. “*Lucius*!”

“Oh, here we are,” Malfoy sighed, watching avidly as blood welled up from the deeply-embedded shard, leaking down Snape’s jerking thigh like rainwater down a windowpane, but red, so achingly red against the pale lily-white. “Oh, it’s lovely, Severus. Lovely.” He lightly gripped the end of the shard and pulled it out slowly, letting it cant to the side to cut just a little more of that deliciously abused flesh. Snape sigh-screamed again, body shuddering violently against the sharp thrusts of pain and desire as Lucius tossed the bloody glass away, hands reaching forward the frame the deep cut.

“So lovely. Oh, yes, so very, very lovely,” he sighed, leaning forwards to lap at the edges, licking up the blood and sighing as it cooled on his tongue. It ran red and steaming across his fingers, dying them pink, and he imagined what this would be like if it were James beneath him, James bleeding so beautifully for him, James sighing and arching up into his touch... He snarled and bit at the edges of the wound, tongue probing into the hot darkness in a sudden, violent rape of skin, and Severus screamed above him, body arching up even as he tried to pull away, torn by the conflicting needles of want and shame.

“James,” Lucius sighed, mouth covering the deep cut as he sucked in the welling blood, filling his mouth with it, filling his body with it, filling to bursting with the magic taste of JamesJamesJames. He leaned up on his elbow, cheeks distended, and took the bobbing erection into his mouth, eyes open and staring in fascination as the blood leaked from his mouth and washed down the purpled cock, swimming into the black pubic hair and flowing down the tender sac.

Severus was thrashing against the bedclothes, totally lost, eyes screwed shut and mouth opened on silent, shuddering gasps as he was consumed by heat and pain and *Lucius*, cutting like shiver-shards across his brain, blinding with arousal and fear and aching, desperate, pathetic longing. He moaned helplessly as his own blood leaked down his thigh from the painful cut-- proof that this was real, proof that he wasn’t dreaming!-- and across his pelvis from Lucius’ bobbing, beautiful mouth. It tickled his skin as it caressed the small expanse of tender skin below his cock and lazily trailed down between his ass cheeks, trickling across the puckered skin in a maddeningly light touch. “Please,” he gasped, hands ripping the sheets beneath him as he fought to keep his hips from arching into that mouth. “pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...”

Pain so good that it was pleasure; pleasure so dark that it was *fear*.


He should have known better than to beg. Should have known better than to give away that much power.

He should. have. known.

Severus sobbed when Lucius bobbed his head up, teeth raking sharply against his erection, then pulled his mouth away. “No,” he moaned, knowing that it was coming, knowing that Lucius was *never* that kind, but desperately disappointed nonetheless. “No...”

“Look at me, Severus.” Snape shook his head, wanting to keep his eyes shut, wanting to keep the fever-dream, but Lucius dug his fingers sharply into his hips, painfully cutting into the flesh and forcing his eyes to open. Black eyes met icy blue, locked in shivering pain and disgust and need and want and *fire*. A battle of wills and wants.

Severus looked away first, eyes dropping helplessly to the open mouth, smeared with blood and come, delicate tongue darting out to tease away the cooling mixture. “Was it good for you?” Lucius whispered, crawling up Snape’s body in lithe, undulating waves. The other boy moaned, still desperately hanging onto the precipine, body aching for closure, for completion, shivering on the edge of orgasm... and frozen there. Helpless.

“It was so very, very good for *me*, Sevvie,” Lucius sighed as he curled up into the taut arms, face pressing up into his neck and leaving sticky-sweet trails of blood against his skin. “So very, very good...” He licked across the column of his throat one last time, contentedly lapping at the salty skin, then flickered his eyes closed, mouth curving up into a delicate, happy smile. “And so much better if it’d been James...”

Severus kept his body so very still as Lucius slowly sank into sleep, heart pounding within his breast and erection aching, sending sharp flashes of pain through his body. Blood continued to flow down his thigh, welling up from the edges of the deep gash, soaking into the bed sheets as his eyes slowly flickered closed, lips pressed together to bite back his desperate moan.



“Damn you,” he whispered to the ceiling, entire body a shuddering, aching wound. “Damn you, damn you, *damn you*...”

Lucius sighed and smiled in his sleep. Tears leaked hot and wet down Severus’ cheeks. Blood made silent tracks down his shivering skin. And his heart clenched in pain and wounded hatred.

“Damn you.”





“I would die for you...
I would kill for you...
I will steal for you...
I’d do time for you...
I will wait for you...
I’d make room for you..
I’d sail ships for you
to be close to you
to be part of you
because I believe in you
I believe in you.
I would die for you...”






“You woke up screaming aloud
A prayer from your secret god
You feed off our fears
And hold back your tears
Give us a tantrum
And a know it all grin
Just when we need one
When the evening's thin

Oh you're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine”

-- Sarah McLachlan “Building a Mystery”






It was hard for him, sometimes, living in the world with so many Mundanians. That’s what he calls them-- *Mundanians*. Commoners. Silly, stupid people living out their silly, stupid lives without the inner world of light and miracles. I asked him once if he meant the Muggles, and he just laughed at me. He laughed at me with that cold, mocking, freezing laugh that makes you shrivel inside from the pain. The kind that makes you want to grip his beautiful face and reach down and pull out that silver, magical throat, just so the cold, ringing notes would stop rising from his lips. Just so you don’t have to hear the mocking sound anymore. Yeah. That kind of laugh.

That kind of pain.

Mundanians, he’d say, were anyone who lived each moment without the fire burning holes within their hearts. They were vile, common, despicable creatures that slithered along on their bellies and never looked up into the sky, never dreamed of something better because their imaginations were *squashed* like bugs upon a stone, splattered and disgusting and vile.

He wasn’t a Mundanian, of course. He couldn’t be. And James wasn’t either. Not beautiful, perfect, wonderful James. Not James with the magic blood and the fucking magic eyes that would taste like sunlight, only better, only brighter.

Asking how anyone could know what sunlight tasted like could only receive a sharp, cruel slap. Asking how eyes-- James’ or otherwise-- could taste like *anything* other than the sticky fluids and sacs that contained them obviously deserved a vicious bite.

And cold eyes. And colder words. “They’re all Mundanians, Severus. All of them. Only James and I are magic-- only James and I understand. The rest of them should *burn*.”

Never ask “What about me?” Never beg those frozen blue eyes. All you’ll get is a stare and a raised brow. All you’ll get is telling silence.


I long to tell him how I feel-- I want him to know how much I think about him, dream about him, silver and perfect and smiling down at me, hair falling soft and silken about his face as his hands gently brush across my shoulders. In my secret nights, he slips into my bed, so pale against the gathered darkness, glowing bright as if someone has lit a candle within him, a smile playing across those perfect coral lips. His hands would tangle in my hair, pulling my face in for a kiss, and our lips would meet, soft and warm and gentle, the absence of cruel bites telling in the way he falls across me, sprawling over my shivering body.

Heat would spring between us, warm and coiling from that dark, secret spot just beneath our spines, spreading out with each shared breath and liquid tangle of tongues. There would be no cold, no frozen stares or mocking laughs, no nail marks or dark, bruised patches of skin where his teeth latched on just a little too hard. I’d no longer have to push my covers up behind me and pretend that it was *him* curled up into me, a warm weight so close, so very, very close... I wouldn’t have to kiss my pillow and imagine curving wet lips that gave gently below me.

I wouldn’t have this dark, cold, unwashed hatred seething within me, shattering out from my core every time I saw Lucius staring at him. Every time I saw him watching him, chin propped in his hands and lips curved into a wondering smile as he watched *James* fucking *Potter* across the room. I wouldn’t have the urge to rip and shred and curse and tear, reaching in to pluck out those blue eyes and offer them up on a fucking *platter* for Lucius to taste. Offer them up for him to munch and sip and slurp so delicately, watching as they splattered juicy and thick between his small white teeth.

Taste like sunlight, love? Taste so *good*?


It’s a burning need that won’t go away. It’s a rage that builds maddeningly with every casual toss of his pale hair and every secretive, hidden sigh and smile. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I wish I could read those thoughts as they passed through his head, lovely and perfect and deceitful and uncaring.

He hasn’t smiled at me in three days. Hasn’t touched me except to punish my flesh. I’m worried about the pallor of his skin, more pronounced than usual, as he looks at James. James.


I see him in my dreams, sometimes, too. James. I see him hurt and begging and pleading and *crying*, ridiculous and shattered and so very low.

Is this beauty? Is this perfection? It bleeds, it aches, it cracks open just like the rest of us, love. It mars and pains and cries just like us all.

Just like us Mundanians.

Just like me.






Severus Snape slouched back into his chair, dark eyes fixed malevolently on the blue-eyed, smiling boy across the library. James was laughing at something Sirius Black had said, head shaking slowly as his bawdy friend placed a hand dramatically over his heart, the other flourishing into the air in a grand gesture.

~Fools,~ Snape thought darkly, mouth twisting down into a scowl. ~Every single one of them.~

He watched as James reached up to touch his friend’s shoulder, cataloguing each movement as if he were recording the mechanics of muscles and skin and hair for future reference, for deep study in the darkness of night. Why James Potter? Why him? What made the innocent tilt of that head so exotic, so drawing for someone like Lucius Malfoy?

“He’d eat you alive, boy,” Severus whispered, hands clenching into fists as James ran his fingers through his curly hair, disheveling it. “He’d tear off your flesh and lick on your bones, and you wouldn’t even know enough to understand it. You wouldn’t even care enough to *enjoy* it.”

Wouldn’t appreciate being the center of such a focused adoration.

Peter suddenly leaned in and whispered into Sirius’ ear, hands twisting nervously. Snape watched with growing interest as Sirius’ black brows drew sharply together, his face twisting in anger as he turned to glare at Severus, eyes snapping fire as he stood.

“And what’s this, my pretty Peter?” he muttered, cutting his eyes to the pale-faced boy. “You switch sides again? You buddies with Black again? Lucius won’t like that a bit...”

“Snape,” Sirius growled, stalking towards his solitary table, hair flowing behind him and face twisted like some fucked up avenging angel. “What are you playing at?”

Severus looked up, lips twitching into an insolent smile. “What do you mean, Black?”

Sirius wasn’t buying it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Peter said you were glowering over at our table, fit to kill with a look.” He brought his hands down onto the table and leaned in, voice going low and husky and threatening. “You want trouble, Snape? I suggest you come to me for it-- I’m more than *happy* to give it to you.”

Snape leaned back in his chair, a dark brow raising as he watched color suffuse Sirius’ face. ~It’s all about knowing which buttons to push,~ he thought, lips twitching. ~Black plays it cool when you yell or act sullen, but if it looks like you’re actually *laughing* at him...~

Sirius stepped around the table with a growl, hand fisting into the collar of Snape’s robes, yanking him to his feet. His goody-goody friends were raising a fuss, rushing to stop him from rearranging Severus’ face.

~Fucking losers~ Snape thought irritably, eyes narrowing as he met Black’s. Sirius he could understand-- there was potential for fire within those eyes, dark and threatening, raging and demonic. If Black didn’t hold himself back so much, didn’t try to conform to what the others, to what little *Remus*, thought he should...

~He’d be a bad mother-fucker... Wonder what it’d take to make him snap?~ “Overcompensating a bit, aren’t we Black?” he hissed low in his throat, ignoring the hands that tried to pull them apart, tried to end the fight before it began. Peter was practically mewling, James was saying something about ‘this can’t end up anywhere good’ and Remus was watching with wide, horrified eyes, hands clasped together.

Or was that horror? Was that fear? ~You getting off on this, Remus-child?~

“What do you fucking mean by *that*, Snape?” He shook him, hard, not holding back.

“Playing it up a bit? Trying to impress the herd? Trying to impress innocent little Remus?” Sirius’ eyes narrowed dangerously, but Severus barreled on, high on power and the soft, almost-erotic amount of *control* he had. He could make this boy snap like a twig... “But it’s a little too late for *that*, don’t you think?” he whispered, voice pitched low for Sirius alone. “It’s a bit late to impress poor, innocent little Remus with big shows of bravery, because poor, innocent Remus isn’t so innocent anymore.”

Sirius growled darkly and Snape smiled, feeling strange and tingling and light-headed as the larger boy shook him, ignoring the concerned cries of his friends.

“No, not so innocent. Lucius took care of that quite a while ago... He let me watch, you know. He let me watch as he went down on little Remmie, sucking his cock into his mouth and fingering him oh so roughly. And Remus *screamed*, Black. He screamed so *hard* for more. He fucking *loved* it-- loved the rough mouth and the slaps, loved the fact that *I* was there, watching, jerking off as he was sucked off...”

“Shut *up*, Snape. Shut up.”

“It was so *good* for him, much better than you could give him, much rougher and wilder than you’ve even dared to try. You fucking pussy. Have you even *kissed* him without his permission? Have you even *considered* that he may want you to shove him up against something and ride him *hard*, fucking into him just like Lucius did, smiling as he screamed for more and more and more...”

“Shut the FUCK UP!” Sirius snarled, face contorted in rage as he shook Snape, making the dark hair fly about his face, making his head jerk on the thin stalk of his neck. Snape laughed delightedly as James cried out and Sirius growled, fist slamming hard into his stomach and making him double over with pain.

“Again,” he breathed, forcing his lips into a cocky grin. ~Taste the darkness, taste the fury, let it drown you Black, drown you, you’re so close to drowning, let it come...~

Sirius gripped his throat tightly, shrugging off James’ staying hands, other fist slamming repeatedly into his stomach, his face, pounding time and time again as he howled into the fury and the rage, taking those steps closer and closer to the darkness. To the madness.

Finally, spent, Sirius dropped Severus to the library floor, panting and wild and still filled with the pissed off energy. Severus groaned lightly and turned onto his side, hands scrabbling at the softly carpeted floor, coughing a stream of blood as he watched Sirius growl above him, dark and frightening and erotically *powerful*.

“Sirius,” Remus began, but Black whirled on him with a snarl and the pale boy stopped, eyes wide and frightened and increasingly aroused as Sirius gripped his wrist, grinding the fragile bones together and leaned in close, too close. Severus watched, almost amused as Sirius pressed his face in near the other boy’s and *sniffed*, nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of arousal and blood and sweat filling the air, making it heavy with sex and pain. Then, with a wordless snarl, he leaned in and *viciously* kissed him, tearing at the tender mouth with a violence that was almost animal, fingers gripping and pulling and *punishing*. Remus gasped and shoved against him, struggling to pull away, then went limp, giving in. Loving it.

~Just like with Lucius. The little slut.~

Then, pulling away, Sirius looked down at the pale, swaying boy and snarl-sighed, hands gripping either side of his face before moving away, towards the door, pulling an unresisting Remus behind him.

~And look. Another happy, fucked-up couple courtesy of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.~ He winced and touched the corner of his mouth, fingers coming away wet with blood. Peter and James had scampered away, leaving him alone in his pain. ~Well, fuck them. Fuck them all.~ He shook his head, shoulders moving in painful, silent laughter. ~Oh, wait, Lucius already *has*...~

He shifted, then groaned. “Ooooh, fuck,” he sighed, pain shuddering through him. When he lost it, Black was almost as violent as Lucius, hard and unforgiving and *brutal*. ~They’re fucking meant for each other.~ He rolled onto his back, gasping in a desperate breath, blood oozing down his mouth and nose. ~I think the fucker *broke* me. Shit. He *broke* *me*. Not even Lucius has managed that yet.~ He began to laugh at the thought, stomach clenching painfully as he chuckled, perversely amused at that thought that Sirius Black, one of the *good* *guys*, had finally lost it and had beaten the shit out of him, only to prance off moments later to fuck his whoring boyfriend through the floor. “What fools these mortals be...”

“You know, only *you* would be stupid enough to do that.”

Severus jerked up at the voice, wincing as pain shiver-stirred through him. James Potter looked down at him from where he stood, then crouched down, one hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Snape winced away, flesh crawling at the touch, not wanting James to push his fingers against him, into his skin, down through his complicated map of flesh and muscles and connective tissue to press against his heart. ~hateyouhateyouhateyouhateyou...~

“What do you want, Potter? A chance to take some shots at me while I’m down?” He bared his teeth, eyes glittering like two flat jewels. “Well, I’m down. Take your best fucking blow.”

James brushed his hands across Severus’ forehead, pushing back the lanky black hair, lips pressed together into a frown. “Did he hurt you too badly?”

Snape laughed, then choked, blood bubbling past his lips as he moaned. “Fuck. You have to ask?”

“Here.” His hands were cool and soft as he gently helped Snape up to his feet, moving one of Snape’s long arms around his shoulders, one hand braced on the small of his back and the other pressing against his chest. It felt so... gentle. Tender. Ridiculously, unbelievably loving. “Lemme help you to the Infirmary.”

“No. *No*.” Snape shook his head and tried to pull away, shivering from the contact. ~What is he playing at?~

“Ok.” James wrapped his arms tighter around him, straightening him when he almost doubled over from the pain. “No infirmary, but I’d better help you down to your room. I don’t know if you’d make it otherwise.” He gently prodded Snape into moving, fingers warm and electric and solid against his back.

“Why are you doing this?” Severus growled, half-excited and half-afraid. Take him up to his room? Up to his and *Lucius’* room? Did he even *understand* what a bad idea that was?

~He’d be just begging to be splayed out, a present for Lucius... Fuck, Potter, what are you doing? You have to know what you’re getting into here. No one’s that innocent. No one’s that clueless.~

“Why? You’re bruised and bleeding and something may very well be broken. I couldn’t just leave you there, now could I?”

Snape sneered. “Why do you always have to pretend to be such a hero?”

“Why do *you* always have to pretend to be such a villain? You’re not like him, Severus.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.”

“Listen,” he snarled, half-leaning into the warmth as James helped him down the hall. “You don’t know *shit* about me. So don’t you fucking *dare* try to pass your sanctimonious bull-shit down on me, because you don’t know a single thing about how I feel and what I think and why I do what I do. You don’t know *anything*.”

James sighed and shook his head, not mad, not reacting at all like Severus thought he should. ~Why doesn’t he react?~

“No, maybe I don’t, but I do know that you’re not quite the bastard that you pretend to be. I do know that there’s more to you than that.”

“Do you now?” Severus’ voice was very low and very silky and very, very dangerous. They were in the dungeons, very close to the entrance to the Slytherin rooms. Very close to something he would try not to regret. “Do you know me so well?”

“I. I think I might.”

“Now, isn’t *that* lovely,” he whispered, one hand moving to caress James’ lower back. The other boy jumped in his arms, startled, wide eyes meeting his as he tried to slither away.


“Isn’t that so very fucking lovely. Such trust in me... such lovely, innocent trust that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, to hurt anyone. That I’m just this *bleeding*, *hurting* heart deep inside, hidden amongst all the anger.” His face was very close to James’, breath gusting across the other boy’s lips, eyes fixed on James’ wide blue gaze. It was as if James were frozen in place, mesmerized by the dark, spitting fire within Severus’ eyes. Trapped. Even when Snape raised his wand and tapped it against the side of his face, darting in for a hard kiss, he didn’t move. Didn’t protest.

Merely sank to the floor as Severus murmured the curse, puddling bonelessly at the other boy’s feet.

Innocent and beautiful and serene in drugged almost-sleep.

“I hate you,” Severus reminded the unconscious boy, reminded himself, as he slowly pulled him up to his feet. His entire body ached, but then, he was *used* to pain. It was nothing. “I *hate* you.” He slung James’ arm over his shoulder and limped towards the entrance to the Slytherin common room, eyes dark and mouth set into a firm, bloodied, desperate line.

“Hate you so much.”






Lucius was right-- it should never be about feelings or people or humanity or sorrow or shame. It should never be about anything weak like emotions. It was about what he could get from people. It was about what he could *gain*.

It was about James Potter, drugged to the gills and tied up on the bed, helpless. It was about Lucius Malfoy walking through the door, hair silver and bright and sharp face beautiful.”

“Lucius... I have a little surprise for you...”

It was about the glad gasp and the delighted squeal. It was about the sharp, happy kisses pressed across his face as the boy he loved thanked him with more passion than he had shown in weeks.

In months.


It wasn’t about tender skin and innocence. It wasn’t about shame. It wasn’t.

It wasn’t...


“Oh you're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine

'Cause you're working
Building a mystery
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working
Building a mystery
And choosing so carefully”


“Bleeding now I'm
Crying out I'm
Falling down and I'm
Feeling nothing like
Laughing now I'm
Stopping now I'm
Reaching out and I'm
Feeling nothing

Yeah, you have created a rift within me
Now there have been several complications
That have left me feeling nothing
I might say, you were wrong to take it from me
Left me feeling nothing”

-- “Numb” Disturbed


I should’ve known better than to. to do *that* to James Potter. No matter how much I hated him, no matter how much just the *thought* of him filled me with helpless, blinding *fury*... I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have cursed him and drugged him with one of my many experimental potions. I shouldn’t have lain him out on my bed and stripped him naked as a present for my mad, demented lover. I shouldn’t have.

I shouldn’t have carefully pulled off his glasses and lain them aside on the bedside table and touched his curly black hair, which, really, is much softer than it has a right to be.

I shouldn’t have let myself feel guilty. Shouldn’t have let myself feel *sorry*.

James Potter didn’t deserve Lucius. He didn’t deserve what Malfoy would *do* to him, in him, against him... He didn’t deserve that particular brand of perverted pleasure and love, didn’t need to be pulled into the mire and have it rubbed around within him.

He. God.

He was too *pure* for that. Too clean. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin... each of them had fallen by turn to the focused insanity of Lucius, and James was like the last hope, the last chance for something to escape those ice-blue eyes unscathed. James was the last feeble attempt at innocence.

And I helped to crush that. I helped to destroy him.

I. I should feel some kind of victory. I should feel like I *won*. Because I did win. I did. Lucius and I won together.

So why do I feel so dirty? Why do I feel so impossibly unclean?

So sorry?






“He’s exquisite,” Lucius sighed, hands clasping as he looked down at the sprawled, naked James Potter, so pale and delicate against the black velvet coverlet. His skin was smooth and peach-toned, small scars light tracings against his skin.

It was strange, Snape thought distractedly, nails digging unconsciously into the soft flesh of his palms. It was strange how he could be so imperfect, so unlike Lucius, and still be so beautiful lying there, all debauched innocence and deflowered virginity.

Well... not quite yet. But soon. So soon.

“I’ve never had a better present, Sevvie.” Lucius turned and tossed a bright smile at the dark boy, blue eyes sparkling brightly like two polished jewels left out to catch the sunlight. Within his chest, Snape’s heart twisted. “It’s so lovely of you to think of me...” He stepped forward and twined his arms around Severus’ neck, bringing his face up almost unbearably close, breath hot and sweet against his cheeks. “So very, very lovely...”

Severus could feel the familiar arousal spark deep within him, coiling from the base of his stomach and spreading out through his body, shivering and jittery as Lucius pressed baby-soft kisses across his face and chin, teeth nipping delicately on his skin. His large hands settled almost awkwardly on the thin hips, rubbing gently against the thickness of the black robe, feeling Lucius arching up into him like a sinfully erotic cat, all lithe grace and sharp teeth.

“Take off my clothes?” Lucius whispered, lashes dropping down to brush his pale cheeks.

The breath caught in Severus’ chest at the low, almost purring voice, and he nodded, fingers moving to undo the buttons and buckles, trembling slightly as he glanced over at James on the bed. Perhaps he could distract Lucius from James, turn all of that bright fire onto himself...

But no. No, that wouldn’t happen. ~He’ll have James tonight, and touch him and use him, and then that will be that. He’ll have him and move on, like with Peter, like with Sirius, like with Remus, like with Narcissa, like with Keller, like with Helen... James will just be another memory in his search for more madness.

At least. At least I’m different. At least he lets me stay.~

His fingers brushed delicately against the smooth, pale skin as he parted the black robe, exposing Lucius’ chest. Smooth, coral nipples shivered in the cool air, hardening beautifully as the cloth slid from his thin shoulders, puddling in a muted whoosh at his feet. Lucius smiled and stepped aside, naked and beautiful in the pale moonlight that was shining through the dark drapes, splashing silver-white against his skin, mottled by the smooth gray of shadow. He leaned in towards Snape, body pressing hot and tight against him, and Severus moaned, palms running up and down the silky back, worshipping the smooth skin as Lucius leaned in for a deep kiss, tongue snaking into his mouth. Severus opened his mouth as far as it would go, almost cracking his jaws in an attempt to open himself up for the other boy, eyes flickering shut and tongue sliding smoothly against Lucius’. He bucked his hips up once, but then stilled, forcing himself into iron control as Lucius slipped out of his arms, pink tongue darting over his lips before he turned away.

He stepped over to the bed, then crawled in, each movement fluid and graceful and *preditorial* as he curled around the unconscious boy, face nuzzling into his neck and hands running possessively over his chest.

“Such a lovely, lovely, lovely present,” he whispered, lips pressing against the soft expanse of flesh below James’ ear, fingers ghosting over his nipples. He looked up and met Severus’ gaze, lips curving up into a delicious smile. “Wake him, pretty? Wake him for me?”

Severus nodded wordlessly, heart aching and body on fire as he reached for a small vial and unstoppered it, allowing the thick, bitter smell to fill the room. His erection swayed as he stepped up to the bed and leaned over the unconscious boy, one arm going around James’ shoulders to pull him up, the other pressing the vial against his lips. Lucius sat up, legs crossing and delicate hands reaching down to brush across the head of his own erection as he watched Snape almost tenderly make James drink, his dark hair falling across his sharp-boned face.

“You almost look beautiful, holding him,” Lucius murmured, smiling at the way Severus’ body jerked at the compliment. He licked his lips and leaned forwards, blue gaze skating over the slack features of the unconscious boy. “But, then,” he breathed, touching the soft, gentle face with the tips of his fingers, “he would make anyone beautiful.”

Severus focused his attention on James, moving to sit on the bed and half-pull* the other boy into his lap, letting most of James’ upper body weight settle against his chest. Slowly, he pulled the vial away and set it on the small table, then turned to wrap both his arms around the still body, feeling the warmth seeping from the light skin as he shifted in his arms.

“You can kiss him,” Malfoy whispered, moving to his knees, watching the flickering lashes greedily. “You can kiss him and let me watch.”

He nodded, hand running gently up the smooth side, moving across James’ chest and up the slender column of his neck to cup his chin and turn his face towards him. He looked up through his lashes, eyes meeting Lucius’ in a long, hard, hot stare as he touched his lips to James’, gently at first, then with more fire, tongue flickering across the slack lips, teasing the corners before forcing his way inside.

James stirred and moaned within his arms as Severus pushed his tongue against his hard palate, flickering across the smooth barrier of his teeth as he rubbed the pad of his finger across his cheek.

“Wha...?” James began, objection swallowed by the ever-deepening kiss, eyes opening in surprise, then closing in sensual pleasure as his arms reached up to twine around Severus’ neck, warm and willing and sweet. Their tongues stroked together wetly, and Snape’s eyes never left Lucius’ as he sucked James’ tongue deep into his mouth, teeth scraping roughly against it as he reached down to pinch the dusty rose nipples.

“Ooooh,” James sighed, squirming, trying to turn his body to press his growing erection against Severus’ thigh. Lucius was panting, hands flickering across his skin in light, caressing touches, mimicking Snape’s soft stroking. James pulled away slightly and looked up at Severus, blue eyes fuzzy and dilated, blinking rapidly. “Sirius?” He turned his head to squint at Lucius, brows drawing together in a look of complete bafflement. “Remus? What...?”

“Oh, *perfect*! He thinks we’re *them*!” Lucius exclaimed, hands clasping together delightedly as he laughed. He slithered across the coverlet to lean across James, hands reaching out to grasp Severus’ lanky hair and pull his head down for a searing, biting kiss, body undulating against James as he kissed the other boy, teeth pulling roughly against Snape’s bottom lip as he pulled away, eyes dark and smoky. “Yum,” he whispered, leaning down to the confused James, carefully lapping the tip of his tongue across the crease of his lips. James struggled to sit up, confused, but Severus held him tight, forcing him to remain in place as Lucius slid into his lap, arms twining around him as he slid his ass against James’ erection, swallowing the low groan that rose from the virgin throat.

Snape leaned back against the ornate headboard, watching as Lucius pushed against the now-unresisting James, body moving slow and deep and seductive. It had been the same with Remus, he remembered-- the first, timid objections swallowed by the silky mouth and leading to the eager, panting, wanton begging. Snape wondered if later, after this tryst was finished, James would watch him the way that Remus did, as if he were on the verge of asking for more, for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. Or would James be more like Sirius? Sirius had been so drunk that he didn’t remember anything that had happened between them-- or so he pretended. And Peter...?

Lucius devoured the greatest joy from watching Peter beg for more and denying him it.

Silver head lifting briefly, Lucius looked up through his lashes and smiled at Severus, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “I think *Sirius* should strip, don’t you, James?” he whispered into James’ throat, fingers massaging light circles against his belly. His hand flickered down to brush the base of the red, throbbing erection, causing James to stiffen and cry out, before darting away, never giving enough pleasure in one place for long enough. “I think he should take off all his clothes while we watch. I think Sirius should put on a show for us.”

Severus looked down at his hands to keep from glaring at Lucius, stomach twisting darkly. This felt so *wrong*, so very, very *wrong*. ~Damn me, why can’t I just say no?~

He stood, sliding from beneath James, hands moving automatically for the straps of his robe.

“Make it a *show*, Sirius,” Lucius commanded, scooting back and pulling James into his lap, hands ghosting over the other boy’s body, lightly teasing, teeth tugging on the soft skin of his neck. “We want to see you *dance*.”

Severus closed his eyes tight, shame flooding through him in a wash of red as he slowly began to move his hips to the music in his head, body moving almost fluidly as his fingers flew over the buttons and buckles, undoing them one by one. James licked his lips and shifted up into Lucius’ caress, eyes glued on Severus as he slowly parted his robe, moving it from his naked body-- a *real* wizard, Lucius always said, never wore clothes beneath his robe-- and let it fall to the floor. His hands moved over his sharp hip-bones, mapping out his flesh as he let his head fall back, black hair swinging behind him as he swayed, one hand curling around his erection and tugging at it sharply.

“Oh, God!” James gasped, face flushed red as Lucius viciously yanked his cock in counterpoint to Severus’ thrusts, long fingers curling too-tight around his leaking shaft. He arched up into the caress, eyes huge as he watched Snape touch himself, breath panting through his body as he arched and moaned and sighed against Lucius. “Shit. Shitshitshit.”

“Like that, huh?” Lucius purred against his throat, yanking hard, making his hips almost come off of the bed with his deep groan. “Want more?”

“Please,” James sighed, lashes flickering and hands moving desperately around to grasp Lucius’ thighs, leaving long pink marks where his nails raked down the delicate flesh. “*Please*.”

“Like to hear you beg,” Lucius whispered, sliding out from under James and turning him against the pillows, face buried in the darkness of the thick velvet as Lucius slid above him. Snape slowed, then stopped, hands settling down useless at his sides, compulsively opening and closing as he watched Lucius smooth his hands over the quivering flanks. “So nice, so nice,” Lucius sighed, thumbs pressing against the crease of James’ ass, opening the two halves with a happy little moan. James groaned and thrust helplessly into the bed, body twisting at the assault of new sensation, mewling when Lucius raked the very tip of his nail along the puckered opening.

“Lucius,” Severus whispered softly, knowing deep inside what was coming next. Lucius had been playing too nice for too long-- there was something bad coming, something that he realized that he couldn’t stop even as he discovered that he wanted to. “Lucius stop.”

“Nice and tight, mmm,” Lucius sighed, running his finger along the crease gently, lips pursed into a happy coo as James twisted below him. He pressed the tip of his finger inside, tugging at the ring of tight muscles, and James muffled a low scream into the pillow, body thrashing helplessly. “So nice and so very, very tight.”

Snape took a step back, head shaking as Lucius rose up over James, beautiful and perfect and almost angelic in the pale light, hard cock gleaming and wet as he brushed his hand over the quivering flank. He wanted to step forward and do something, divert Lucius’ malevolent attention away from the gentle body below him, but he bit into his lip and clenched his hands, trying to draw as much of the pain from his recent beating into his mind, trying to ignore the sudden, arching screams that ripped whole from James’ throat as Lucius thrust hard into him, mostly-dry and without the aid of preparation.

“Fuck, you feel good, tight and hot, feel me split you open, hear it, shrick, like a swollen melon, so ripe, so ready,” Lucius hissed, tearing through the arching body with a brilliant smile, nails digging sharp furrows into the pale skin, ripping away shreds of pinkly-pretty flesh as he rose higher and higher, drunk on the smell of blood and fear.

“Innocent, lost, gone, smashed in glittering pieces, *FUCK* you feel good, so slick, so ready...” His cock slid in and out, smacking wetly against James’ ass as he gripped the writhing hips tight, blood making a feeble lubricant as he snarled and sighed above him.

James thrashed in helpless pain as Lucius thrust in and out of him, moving in wide, circular arches, pushing and punishing. Lucius leaned down and bit at his shoulder, teeth clamping hard on his flesh and leaving a patch of bruised and bleeding skin as his hands reached around to grasp James’ fading erection, using the tips of his fingers to force him back onto the painful peak of orgasm.

Snape shook his head, horrified, breath coming in gasping breaths as he watched Lucius brutalize the other boy, bruises trailing down the pale flesh wherever Lucius’ hands played, leaving the skin mottled and dark and horrible. Blood stained the valley of flesh where their skin met, slick and hot, making a suction as they moved together and apart, Lucius’ eyes laughing and flashing.

Too bright. A low noise rose between them, strange and echoing and lilting, and suddenly, suddenly Snape realized what the noise was. Suddenly he knew and wished he didn’t.

As Lucius Malfoy raped James Potter... he was singing. Low. Sweet. Almost pretty.

“One for sorrow Two for joy; Three for girls and four for boys; Five for silver Six for gold and; Seven for a secret never to be told,” he sang, voice moving light and singsong as he reached around and *yanked* at James’ cock, pulling it and twisting it within his delicate, lovely hands.

“I want you to scream,” he hissed as he pounded down into the virgin flesh, face twisted and ugly. “I want you to scream as you come.” He raked his nails down the trembling sides, drawing blood with each low sigh. “Scream.”

Snape couldn’t turn his head away, no matter that he couldn’t bear to watch. This was so, so terribly *wrong*-- seeing James splayed out and cracked open, crying hard and deep into the pillows, body shuddering as he finally screamed, voice catching on the loud, desperate and pained cry as he came in a brilliant, violent shudder.

Slowly, his body stilled except for the fine shivers that ran across his exposed flesh. Lucius thrust in once, twice, three times more, then pulled out, still hard, cock coated in pink blood and leaking precome. He moved back onto his haunches, one hand reaching out to leisurely stroke himself as he looked down at the sobbing boy, brows raised as if in surprise. Then, slowly, he turned his head to look at Snape.

~No,~ Severus thought, eyes widening. ~No, please.~

“Come on, Sevvie,” Lucius smiled, eyes gleaming bright and blue. “It’s your turn now.”

“I...” He couldn’t think of anything to say as Lucius motioned him closer. His body moved, almost against his own will, and he winced as he crawled onto the bed, hands reaching out automatically for the shivering body as Lucius settled at the footboard.

“No, please. Sirius, no,” James whispered, trying to pull away, and Severus gently began whispering soft, meaningless words as he drew him into his arms, lying down so they were pressed together, flesh against flesh. James resisted for a moment longer, body shaking, then suddenly turned and almost *burrowed* into him, arms wrapping tight around his middle as he pressed his face into Severus’ neck, leaving hot, wet streaks where his tears moved down his cheeks and dripped onto the other boy’s collar bone. “It hurt,” he whispered.

“Shh, it’s ok,” Snape whispered, hands making soothing patterns against his skin. “It’s ok.”

“It *hurt*. Remus hurt me...”

“I know. I know. Oh, love, yes, I know...” He looked up and met Lucius’ eyes, wincing inside at the cold, delighted smile that curved those coral lips as Lucius slowly, delicately licked his bloody palm.

~Monsters. Monsters, the both of us.~

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he sighed into the delicate curve of James’ ear, lips moving against the soft lobe. “I’m not going to hurt you...”

James lifted his head to meet his eyes, and Severus felt inexplicably trapped by the dark blue, so very unlike glittering jewels. This was more like looking into the darkness of a spring of water, just barely catching the impression of depth, his reflection shivering before him, lost and small. He choked in a sigh as James leaned forward and very gently, very deliberately kissed him, lips soft and gentle and beautiful against his. He gasped and allowed the kiss to deepen, feeling the strange lightning-fire shudder through him as James stroked his tongue over his own, making a soft, sweet, strange rhythm.

They lay in one another’s arms for a long time, searching and seeking, kisses wet and warm as they pressed together, comforting one another with the tender strokes, oblivious to Lucius watching them with glittering eyes and lowering brows. Oblivious to the furious, thin press of the pale lips.

Finally, Snape pulled away, panting and aching, heart thudding hard and insistent within his chest. James curled within his arms, lips pursing as he kissed his chest, pads of his fingers ghosting delicately over his skin. Severus looked up and met Lucius’ eyes, noting with detached fear the flush of anger staining his flesh and the cold *fury* sparking within those eyes.

“Come on, *Sirius*,” he hissed, voice low and serpentine as he crouched at the end of the bed like a great, pale spider. “I want a show.”

“Lucius,” he whispered, voice hoarse and ill-used. “I don’t think...”


His eyes flickered shut for a moment as his heart clutched within his chest. His arms moved around the boy curled so trustingly up against him as he tried to force back the insistent screaming of his conscience as he had done so many times before.

~It’s only James Potter. *James* *Potter*. You *hate* him. Raping him... how’s that not a good thing? Make him feel pain, make him feel shame. Soil him good, Sevvie. Soil him good.~ He sighed and nodded, rising to his knees. The cold was creeping in, seeping from ice-chip eyes as he forced himself to concentrate on the body below as merely that... a body. Not James. Not innocent eyes.

~Do it. Take it. *Fuck*. *Him*.~

But he couldn’t. He simply... couldn’t. Not this boy. Not this time.

Sighing, he sank down, not even bothering to look at Lucius as he gently kissed the slope of James’ lower back, tongue darting over the skin, making the boy moan lightly. He couldn’t rape him, but there were other things that he could do, things that would placate Lucius just a little... and he’d pay the price for it later.

“Open up,” he whispered, voice husky as he gently slid his hands between the globes of his ass, parting them. James moaned in pain and Severus lightly licked his lips, appalled by the blood trickling down from where Lucius had thrust into him.

“Oh, yes, very good Sevvie,” Lucius murmured behind him, hands moving over his erection as he watched Snape’s tongue dip down and lightly trace over the abused flesh, tickling across the bleeding opening. James turned his head into the pillow and moaned, hips wriggling back as he accustomed himself to the light, pleasurable swipes wet and searing against him. It was a blinding, spiraling pleasure, so different from the burning pain of before, and slowly he began to loosen, gasping and growling in encouragement as Snape licked away the traces of blood and semen, taking them into himself as a form of penitence.

“Please,” James begged, sighing and arching, thrusting against the mattress with long, hard strokes. Lucius murmured appreciatively from behind them as he spread his legs, corners of his lips curving into a smile as Snape reached around and grasped James’ erection, fingers toying at the tip and pulling down hard as he thrust his tongue deep into the dark entrance, pushing him and caressing him towards some kind of completion, so very aware of eyes upon his back, watching him. Cold. Shrewd. Alien in their intensity.

He couldn’t stand those blue eyes watching him. He couldn’t stand the disjointed stream of thoughts that he could almost hear rushing madly through Lucius’ brain.

He sighed, relived when James screamed and came again, body pulsing. Snape gently stroked the fading erection, eyes squeezing shut when Lucius hissed and came as well, semen spurting across his thighs and back, scalding his skin and making him feel sticky... dirty.

Sad. So very sad.

Sighing, Severus rolled away, head shaking. His erection had faded a long time ago, dimmed by the clenching in his heart and stomach, chased away by two pairs of very blue eyes.

Lucius sprawled back against the footboard, eyes half-lidded and lips curved up into a smile. “That was lovely, Sevvie,” he sighed, touching his pale throat lightly. “So lovely.”

“What about James?” He slid off of the bed and reached for his robe, ignoring the sticky, unpleasantly chilled pull of semen across his body as he pulled on his clothes, closing himself off from the piercing gaze.

“Oh, him.” Lucius flickered his fingers dismissively, pale hair swinging around his face. “Take him somewhere. I don’t care.” Then, stretching out languidly, like a sleek white cat after a very fulfilling feast, he turned his face away and closed his eyes, cutting them both out.

Turning them away.

Nodding silently, never expecting anything else, Severus quietly gathered up James’ clothes and lifted him up, curling the long body into his arms almost protectively, tucking the face against his chest. James was unconscious again, either asleep or passed out from the tax on his drugged, disoriented system, Severus wasn’t sure.

~Does it matter?~

He made his way out of the room, leaving Lucius to himself, leaving it all behind, locking the moment up into a little glass vial within his mind and tossing it in with all of the rest of the memories he would rather make himself forget.

That he would rather never remember.

~Monsters. Both of us. Monsters.~






I left him on the Quidditch field, draped in his clothes, sprawled out onto the grass and dew like the lovers in a Shakespearian play. It was strangely difficult for me to leave him-- it never has been before, with all of the others-- as if I were tied to his drugged, sluggish body by silver cords...

I can imagine how he felt, waking up with the dawn, alone and shivering and frightened, time missing from his memories as he slowly pulled on his clothes. Did he think it all a strange waking dream? Did he remember anything of cruel touches and laughter, of hot kisses and blood seeping thick and dark?

I hope not. I hope he never remembers.

And yet, a part of me wishes that he would. A part of me wishes...

Wishes I didn’t have to do this so very alone. Wishes I wouldn’t let Lucius control me simply because he was the first and only to notice or seem to care. Wishes it could have been some other way.

Just. Simply...






“Crawling now I'm
Beaten down I'm
Tortured now and I'm
Feeling nothing like
Hunting now I'm
Stalking now I'm
Reaching out and I'm
Killing nothing
I can feel you ripping and teaching
Feeding and growing inside of me
I want this, more than you know
I need this, give it back to me”






“The rope that's wrapped around me
is cutting my skin
And the doubts that have surrounded me
Are finding their way in
I keep it close to me
Like a holy man prays
In my desperate hour
It's better that way

So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be such a very good friend
Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been

Angels never came down
There's no one here they want
to hang around
But if they knew
If they knew you at all
Then one by one the angels
Angels would fall”

-- Melissa Ethridge “Angels Would






In the beginning, it was about love. It really was. He was so beautiful and so perfect, all silver hair and large blue eyes, thin face intense and focused on something none of the rest of us could ever see. Focused on some other world, some other reality that was beyond our comprehension. He was *magic*, much more so than all the rest of the students at Hogwarts, and his rare, timid smiles and even rarer laughs kept me alive in some of my darker moments. Kept me willing to keep searching for more.

He used to cry at night. Early on, in our first years, he would begin to softly sigh into the darkness, muffling his breaths against his pillow, making low, pathetic noises in the back of his throat. I think he assumed that no-one could hear him-- all the others were dead asleep, snoring loudly and tossing in their beds, but I have never been able to sleep more then a few hours at a time, so I heard him. I heard him and hurt with him for so many hours, my heart aching as he cried. I know what he felt like-- unloved, unwanted, hated within his own home... Even though we had never really talked about it, even though, logically, I realized that I was shoving off my own problems onto him, I knew then that we had a deep kinship, running like molten gold between us.

I dared, once, in the middle of the night, to roll off of my bed and crawl into his, drawn by the low sniffles and sad, broken sighs. At first, he had turned away, but slowly, by inches, he had allowed me to hold him and stroke back his silver-light hair, allowed me to kiss his smooth cheeks and whisper into his ear.

Allowed me to love him.

He was truly the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen, and the worlds that he created for us in those early days were worlds of hope and joy and light. Gone were the dark, oppressive memories of home. Gone were the cold looks and even colder words. We would hold hands and banish them all away, chasing them from our minds with the images that he spun with words.

All that ended of course. I suppose it had to. He came back our fourth year, changed. Warped. I. I was almost *frightened* of him and what he had become. He didn’t laugh anymore. He didn’t dream anymore. He didn’t cry into his pillow and let me hold him close. It was as if something else had come in and taken over my friend, my Lucius, and twisted him darkly. It was as if he wasn’t the same person at all anymore.

I still love him, of course. I’d do anything-- *have* *done* anything-- to make him happy. To give him what he wants on the chance that the boy I had known would one day come back. But he hasn’t come back. He hasn’t shown his face for three years, and in those three years I have seen and done things that I never imagined that I could. I turned myself to stone to match his ice and let the darkness swallow me, let the hatred swallow me, never once feeling the deep, aching pangs of conscience. Never once feeling regret.

Until now. Until James Potter.






Severus Snape leaned back in his seat, hands resting on the book laying open on the desk before him, eyes scanning over the large classroom. His shoulder-length black hair fell into his face like a veil, shifting against his cheekbones, and he reached up to push a long strand back, flicking it behind his ear. He glanced at the professor, then shifted his eyes away, not interested. History of Magic had never been his favorite class, and besides, there were far more interesting things to see.

He watched as Remus Lupin scrawled something on his parchment and slowly shifted the paper over for Sirius Black to see. The dark boy’s lips lifted into a small smile as he wrote a response, glancing at his lover from the corners of his eyes.

~How cute~ Snape sneered, thin lips twisting into a grimace. Black and Lupin had been disgustingly inseparable ever since they had finally been pushed into each other’s arms over a week ago. Lucius was practically livid, but, as he calmly told Severus, fingers plucking at a flower, carefully shredding the petals, it was only a matter of time before they realized that every other word they said to one another was a lie.

It was only a matter of time before they shivered apart like halves of a rotten fruit.

Severus almost felt sorry for them-- for Remus, at least. Remus Lupin was a sweet, quiet boy. He didn’t deserve the things that were done to him, didn’t deserve the things that would *happen* to him in the future. “Tug out a thread and the tapestry unravels” Sirius breathed, watching the light gleam in those brown-gold eyes. Remus was slowly falling apart, threads leaking from his heart and mind, snarled and tied about small silver fingers that loved nothing more than to tug and jerk and tear.

Shaking his head, Severus glanced at Sirius Black, then quickly away. Sirius always seemed to know when he was being watched, as if he could feel eyes on him like caressing fingertips, moving across his olive-toned skin. Sometimes Snape would play with that, letting his eyes move across the lithely muscled back and then away, just enough to make Black uneasy. But not today. Today there was something else he wanted to watch.

He licked his lips as he glanced over at James Potter, cutting his eyes to the side and hoping that Lucius was too involved in his own daydreams to notice.

~Hello, James,~ he whispered within his mind, eyes fastened on the tilt of the chin. His neck was pale and white, the angry, violent bite marks hidden beneath the folds of his robe. James had obviously not told Sirius or Remus or even Peter about his bruised, abused body, for even though there was no way he could *remember* the events of that night, if he had told, then Sirius Black would have automatically placed blame on Lucius and Severus and would have come after their blood.

Lucius, Severus knew, was quite disappointed that James hadn’t told. Sirius was such a fun little toy...

~Can you hear me? Would you hear me? I’m watching you.~ James looked down at his notes and began scribbling, black curls falling across his forehead and round lenses catching the light. ~I like the way you move, as if you were translating poetry with the arch of your fingers, flickering neatly over your quill. I like the way you smile, lips curving up at the ends and then pulling across your face, finally opening up into a grin.~ James’ hands paused over the parchment, then continued scribbling. ~So graceful, those hands...~

Severus stroked the fingers of his right hand over the knuckles of his left, moving across the hills and valleys, dipping down between his fingers intimately. His hands were cold, but he imagined them warm, like heated skin writhing beneath him, heated moans moving around him, beautiful and shivery and pure.

~Would you hate me, James Potter? Would you hate me as I’ve always hated you? Do you even know what hate is?~ Those eyes would be piercing and beautiful as lashes flickered down, lips opened on wet gasps as he kissed and licked and *learned*, feeling the welcoming warmth heavy and beautiful in his arms. ~Are you lonely, James Potter? Do you shiver alone in your bed at night? Do you listen half-despairing and half-enthralled to the tinkle of your love’s mad laughter and wonder what it would be like to have someone curl around you through the night, wishing away the fears?~

The curve of the back, clothed in black school robes, a starburst of emotion.

~Do you have nightmares, James? Do you have terrible dreams of hands shoving you down, of lips and teeth drowning you in a sea of shame, beating away that light in your eyes? Do you see hair silver and black, two sides of a tainted coin, circling around you?~ Tired shadows beneath eyes, lashes flickering down then up again. ~Are you afraid to go to sleep, James-love? Are you afraid to close your eyes, to give in to the darkness all around you as Remus and Sirius whisper lies to each other in the night? Are you ashamed?~

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, lips moving around the words as he stared at the other boy. “I’m so sorry.”

James’ head tilted as if in response, curls mused and falling messily over his ears and forehead as he slowly turned his head, lips pressing together at the edges as his blue eyes met Snape’s black, making a connection.

“Sorry,” Snape whispered. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t push the words back. James blinked, then shook his head, as if he were shaking out silkily threading cobwebs, lips falling open as he drew in a breath. Snape watched hungrily, trapped and unable to look away, hands clenching together. He felt as if he were on the edge of something, frozen upon discovery and ready to topple over, the droning lecture washing over his head as he stared at James Potter and James Potter stared back at him, caught in a connection, a revelation, a...

His entire body jerked at the sudden jabbing pain slicing into his hand, shattering the silent thread that had connected him to the other boy. His eyes flew up to meet Lucius’, wide and pained, then flickered down to his hand, tongue darting out to lick his lips at the sight of Lucius’ quill-tip buried in his flesh. Blood and black ink welled from the cut, mingling together as they dribbled down his wrist, tickling the pale flesh.

He looked up and met Lucius’ cold, gleaming gaze as he slowly pulled at the shaft of the quill, tugging it from his skin. A sharp, throbbing pain shivered through his hand and arm as he dropped the pen to the desk, hand cradled to his stomach as he stood. Lucius leaned back in his chair and smiled as Snape left the room, shoulders hunched and aware of eyes upon him as he slipped out into the hall, leaving a sticky trail of red-black on the door.

Ashamed and so weary.

“I’m so very sorry.”






Severus sighed as he let the water run over his hand, staining the white porcelain of the sink red. The cut was small but deep, the edges dyed black by the ink from the quill, fanning from the brilliant red center like a inverted sunburst.

“Stupid,” he said, scrubbing at his hand. It hurt, but he was used to the pain by now-- he’d had three years to become numb to it. “Stupid stupid *stupid*.” His hand shook as he cut off the steady stream of water, shaking the droplets from his fingers as he looked up into the mirror and grimaced. He looked so very pale and gaunt in the weak lighting, as if he had lived his life within a grave, barely scratching the surface to breathe. Never seeing the sunlight.

~Not too far from the truth.~ He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, eyes shutting against the tightness that gathered behind them. He felt the hot press of tears, but he wouldn’t let them fall. It was almost a game at times, in the dark, feeling the wild, desperate sobs fighting to break free and swallowing them back, cutting off each lonely sigh as it was born.

“I hate you,” he whispered roughly, hands pressed against the mirror, hair tangling around his face as he shook his head, glass cool against his warm skin. “Hate you.” His shoulders shook in a mix of pain and laughter as he gasped in a deep breathe. The look in Lucius’ eyes... It was even colder than usual. Distant. As if he were looking at Severus through the unwholesomely distilled glass of a scope.

It was a game. Severus was one of the pieces.

“No,” he said. Potter and Black and Lupin and Pettigrew were game pieces... he was one of the players, sitting next to Lucius, a dark, silent spectator waiting to be told what to do, dripping poison from his lips...

“I hate you.”


Severus jerked away from the mirror, eyes wide as he whirled to face James Potter. ~Of *course* James Potter, who the fuck *else* would be fucking stupid enough to follow you?~

“What’re you doing here, Potter?” he sneered, eyes narrowing dangerously. James merely raised a brow and stepped further into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him.

“I’ve come to see if you were all right,” he said.

Severus crossed his arms over his skinny chest and arched a brow insolently. ~Scare him away.~ “Oh?” he said, recovering himself and stepping close to James, too close, moving steadily into his personal space. James’ bright eyes flew open wide, but he didn’t step back. He merely looked up at Severus, meeting his challenge silently. “You’re not afraid to be alone with me?” he whispered, leaning down so his breath brushed against the tender curve on an ear, making James shiver. ~He smells so sweet.~ “You’re not afraid of what I may do to you?”


“You don’t sound sure, Jamesy. You don’t sound sure at all.” He was so close he could feel the heat radiating off of James’ body, could hear the frantic skip of his heartbeat as it thundered within his chest. Snape pressed a hand against the other boy’s chest, fingers pressing against the front of the robe, feeling the thudding of that heart speed faster as he swayed closer. “You sound frightened...”

“I’m not.” He faltered for a moment, then shook his head, as if pushing away the encroaching fears. He looked up and met his eyes, gaze clear and impossibly blue, gleaming from behind his glasses. “I’m not scared of what’s between us.”

“There’s nothing between us.”

“You’re lying-- you know there is.”

“That’s... It’s impossible.”

James touched his cheek. “I dreamed of you.”

He knew what was coming, and he couldn’t take it. But he had to. ~He remembers. Oh, God. He *remembers*.~ “Dreamed of me raping you?” Snape snarled, jerking his face away from the tender touch. “Dreamed of me shoving you down and letting Lucius take you?”

James shook his head slowly, eyes never leaving his. “No,” he whispered. “No... I dreamed of you kissing me and holding me. I dreamed that you touched me. You were so gentle.”


“Tell me it was a dream,” James pressed on, eyes glinting brightly, almost feverishly. “Tell me it was a dream and I’ll believe you.”

Severus opened his mouth to sneer and lie and tear at tender memories... but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be that selfless. He was silent.

James nodded. “No, I’m not scared of you.”

Snape stepped back. “You should be,” he said, turning away. James reached out and caught his wrist, hand wrapping gently around his pale flesh. Snape froze. “Let. Go,” he snarled, but James shook his head and tugged him back close again, his other arm wrapping around his waist. “Let me the fuck *go*, Potter.”

James smiled and tugged him closer into his heat, face pressing close to his. They were so close they were sharing breaths, and Severus sucked in a deep lungful of air, tasting their breaths mingled together like kisses. “No,” James said, thumb making tingling circles on the inside flesh of his wrist. “No, I don’t want to let you go.”


“James. And I want to tell you about a dream I had.”

“Potter, let *go*.” But he was too weak to pull away-- not when all he wanted to do was crawl into the other boy’s arms and never let go. “I’m *warning* you.”

“It’s *James*, Severus. *James*. Not Potter.” He met Severus’ eyes, expression serious. “And I’m going to kiss you now.”

“I--” His protest was cut off by soft lips on his, gentle and slowly moving, as if in a dream. He shivered and swayed forward, mouth opening onto a groan as James’ tongue trailed over his bottom lip, licking it’s way into his mouth. “James,” he sighed, suddenly giving in, arms wrapping around the other boy, eyes closing against the full, heavy excitement and almost-tenderness that soaked through his chest, tugging hard at his heart. “James, I...”

“Shhh,” James breathed against his lips, then slowly pulled away, eyes lidded and dark as he lifted up Severus’ hand and kissed then licked the darkened bit of skin. “We need to talk. But not here.”

“No,” Severus said, swaying forwards, lost. “No, not here.”

The corners of James’ mouth turned up into a small smile as he slowly stepped back, tugging Severus after him. “Come on,” he said, fingers threading through the other boy’s as he led them out of the bathroom. “We can go up to my room... the others won’t get in for a while yet.”

Severus knew he should protest, should pull away, should do something, anything other than follow James Potter through the empty halls and towards Gryffindor tower, fingers intertwined and heart skipping madly within his chest. He should turn and run back to the dungeon, back to Lucius and silent nights and cold touches and...


“All right,” he said, damning himself. James grinned at him over his shoulder and Severus almost-smiled back, lips curving up tentatively. “All right.”






I baptized you. I licked away your skin. I kissed the demons that haunted your child-like sleep and seduced them into quiet.

I was your soul. I was your heart. I was your purpose; your *destination*. And you betrayed me.

Kiss him, my Judas. Lick at his skin and know the pleasures of his flesh, my Brutus. Adulturate your soul with sugar-spun fancies of *him* *him* **him** and drown in his night-blue eyes. It doesn’t upset me. I know secrets that he doesn’t.

I know such delicious secrets. Such heady, rich, delightful truths. They curl, dark as His Mark on my forearm, promising the world.

Steal this moment from his lips. Steal this unquiet. Sink into his shore, dark as blood and half yet as sweet.

I own you. I love you. I worship you.

No one escapes for long. Not even you, Severus.

Not. Even. You.

Enjoy his breath while it lasts.





“I've crept into your temple
I have slept upon your pew
I've dreamed of the divinity
Inside and out of you
I want it more than truth
I can taste it on my breath
I would give my life just for a little death

So I'll come by and see you again
I'll be just a very good friend
I will not look upon your face
I will not touch upon your grace
Your ecclesiastic skin

I'll come by and see you again
I'll have to be a very good friend
If I whisper they will know
I'll just turn around and go
You will never know my sin”






“I know how to hurt
I know how to heal
I know what to show
And what to conceal
I know when to talk
And I know when to touch
No-one ever died from wanting too much

People like us
Know how to survive
There's no point in living
If you can't feel the life
We know when to kiss
And we know when to kill
If we can't have it all
Then nobody will.”

-- Garbage “The World is not












“I know how to hurt
I know how to heal
I know what to show
And what to conceal
I know when to talk
And I know when to touch
No-one ever die from wanting to much

The world is not enough
But it is such a perfect place to love
And if you're strong enough
Together we can take the world love”