Archive: Reversathon community, this journal. Anywhere else, please ask permission.
Warnings: Look at the characters, darlings. If you think that everything is on the up and up with this particular trio, you've another thing coming to you. Slash and het content, dubious consent, and mild bondage.
Pairings: Severus Snape/Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy, and various permutations of the aforementioned.
Disclaimer: These wonderful people are not mine; they belong to JK Rowling and Scholastic and loads of other people with more money than I. Please don't sue, I don't have any money anyway.
Summary: Lucius plans a bit of a surprise for his wife.
Notes: Written for gmth for the 2006 reversathon. Thanks to fluffyllama and corvidae9 for their hard work in keeping these unruly writers in line. Hope you enjoy. Request is reprinted in full at the end of the story. The quote at the beginning of the story is from the song "Firefly," by Over the Rhine. Originally posted here
One satellite with a lazy eye
Caught me by surprise
With an ache in my belly
And a taste in my mouth for fire
If there was one thing Lucius Malfoy loved, it was creating the opportunity to show off. It didn't matter what he was showing off, precisely: his lovely wife, his lovely child, his lovely mansion, his lovely millions of galleons, his lovely and truly terrifying devotion to the Dark Lord. If he had the opportunity to let the rest of high society know exactly who Lucius Malfoy was and what he was made of, he would seize the opportunity.
It was, after all, only right that he do so.
So it was to pass that Lucius was planning an extravaganza.
Not just any extravaganza, though. This one was to be a surprise, for Narcissa. She was a good wife: loyal and true and oh so lovely. She deserved to be honoured with something, Lucius decided, and this would be it.
The affair was quickly planned; Lucius handled most of the details himself, with only minor consultations to others. Overall, he was unusually secretive about the entire thing, pussyfooting around his wife, hiding any and all owl post he received, and being generally dodgy about his plans.
Narcissa had better things to worry about than whatever Lucius' plans entailed. It was Lucius. If he wasn't being devious or underhanded or manipulative, then the world was probably ending, or someone had used polyjuice to take her husband's place. And she would know if the situation was the latter; polyjuice only went so far as appearance, and Lucius had oh-so-many interesting traits that couldn't ever quite be duplicated.
Regardless, Lucius wanted a grand gala, and Lucius was going to have a grand gala. He didn't even need a publicized reason for the gathering; he deemed it would happen, and that was all there was to the entire discussion. No further questions. Extravagant invitations went out to the closest friends and associates of the Malfoys, sent via private owl courier service. Arrangements were made for Draco to be sent off to toddle and play with "the Parkinson girl," as Lucius would most often refer to her as.
Everything was set.
"I'm not coming."
"Severus." Lucius' tone was scolding, almost as if he were speaking to his toddler son. "What do you mean, you're not coming? You have to come." Lucius rapped his cane angrily against the floor; the clatter echoed off of cold stone walls.
"I'm busy," the younger man shot back. He slipped past Lucius, a stack of books floating neatly along behind him. Severus paused in front of an empty shelf and began putting the books into their rightful places. "Unlike certain people, I actually have a job that requires me to work."
"It's summer, Severus," Lucius said. Severus didn't need to be looking at him to know that his words were punctuated with a very dramatic eye roll. "The children are gone."
"And I need to put all the equipment to rights that they destroyed. I need to revise curricula, I need to do inventory, I need to--"
"Just come to the sodding dinner party, Severus," Lucius said.
Severus sighed and shoved a few more books into their places. "What's in it for me? Aside from your scintillating dinner conversation and dealing with Walden's snide remarks and crude sense of humour the entire evening?"
"Your usual reward for behaving like a proper, upstanding member of society rather than a filthy half-breed," the older man shot back.
"So you choose to blackmail me into attending? I assure you that won't make me the most pleasant of dinner guests. Need I remind you I have sufficient… ammunition with which to return fire, if needs be?" Severus glanced over his shoulder at Lucius before turning his attention back to the books. He rearranged a few more, putting a text by Millifory, Agatha in its rightful spot, right before Millifory, Amos. Honestly, he couldn't even alphabetise properly when he was this distracted.
"You know she never cared," Lucius said, exasperated. "If she well and truly cared, she wouldn't even allow me to invite you, and we all know that Narcissa has final say over that, and would you just stop rearranging the books?" Lucius unsheathed his wand and muttered a spell at the stack of books, which promptly sorted themselves in alphabetical order and then slid into place on the shelves.
"I prefer to sort them by hand," Severus retorted, sparing a frustrated glare at Lucius before turning back to the shelf and switching the positions of two of the books. Magic wasn't always infallible. "I'm not coming."
"You're coming. This isn't something you can refuse."
"Why are you so adamant that I be there? You've little right to order me around." Severus finished with the books and stalked back across the room, dropping down to sit in a battered armchair.
"Everyone will be there, Severus. Those of us who are free, at least. Your absence would not go unnoticed." He followed Severus across the room, brushing up against the back of the armchair and leaning his face close to Severus' own. "And I want you there. Is that not enough?"
Severus slowly turned his head to face Lucius, brows arched in an expression of perpetual questioning. "Not anymore, Lucius."
Lucius sighed and straightened up, pushing away from the chair and approaching the doorway. "You'll be there," he said, shaking a finger at Severus. "You'll be there."
Severus attended the dinner party, of course. No matter how much he wished to deny it, it was near impossible to actually refuse an invitation from Lucius Malfoy and come out of the entire scenario with your reputation still in tact.
The entire affair went off precisely as Severus had imagined it would. Lucius, for as much as he relished the chance to impress his guests with his wealth and his superb event-organizing skills, was never exactly the most original or creative of men. (Except, of course, in his service to the Dark Lord, but that was a different matter altogether.)
The house elf du jour greeted Severus at the door, one tiny little hand extended to take his cloak, the other holding a goblet of wine. "Master wishes you drink his wine, Mister Snape," the creature said, trying to stand still and failing miserably.
Severus shrugged out of his cloak and dropped it into the house elf's arms, swiftly snatching up the goblet. Lucius always did have a strong penchant for pushing the finest liquors on his guests; it wasn't too poor of an idea, most of the guests were dreadfully dull conversationalists without the additional help.
He looked down at the contents of the goblet after taking a sip, long after the house elf had toddled away before Severus could ask any questions of the creature. The liquid was dark, blood red, and smelled faintly of pomegranate. Severus shrugged, swirling the liquid around in the goblet, and began walking off in the direction of the dining room.
It seemed as though it was an awfully long walk.
Lucius sat at the head of the long table, Narcissa at his right hand and an empty chair and place setting at his left. Severus himself was sandwiched midway down the table between Avery (boring, alcoholic pillock) and someone whose name he couldn't quite recall (slightly less boring; could at least carry on a brief conversation).
"A toast," Lucius declared abruptly once all of the guests had been seated. He waved his wand sharply and muttered a spell; the guests' goblets all filled with wine -- the same pomegranate-scented concoction as before -- at his command. "A toast to the gathering of these most loyal friends of mine."
The guests raised their goblets, saluting themselves. Severus rolled his eyes and sullenly hoisted his goblet with the rest of them; the day that more than five others in that room were loyal to anything other than money and their own hides was the day he'd give up the entire spy act and instead become a circus performer.
"A toast to my wife," Lucius said next, dropping his hand to rest lightly on Narcissa's pale shoulder. "This gathering is for her, in honour of her steadfast loyalty to all I -- to all we stand for." Narcissa's cheeks flushed high with colour, and she glanced at her husband, who chuckled lowly. He smiled warmly, a rare sight indeed, then inclined his goblet at her; the guests responded in kind.
"And a toast to our fallen brothers and sisters," Lucius continued solemnly, inclining his goblet toward the empty place setting. How symbolic, Severus thought; how symbolic and utterly vapid. Severus sighed and raised his glass again.
"To our friends and comrades, dead before their time, to those gone mad, to those imprisoned in Azkaban." A collective shudder went though the room; they'd all had their brushes with Azkaban, and none were particularly keen to dwell too much on their time there, brief as it may have been. "To the Dark Lord and His loyal servants," Lucius said in closing, holding his goblet high.
"To the Dark Lord," the guests replied in unison, goblets rising and clinking rims. Everyone drank deeply, oohed and aahed in surprise as the food appeared on their plates with nary a house elf in site, and dinner conversation began in earnest.
"They say you've been teaching at Hogwarts, Snape," muttered Avery through a mouthful of food.
Snape glared at the man. "Yes," he responded, "and I hear you've been visiting the Hog's Head with a woman who is most certainly not your wife." He raised his eyebrows inquisitively and peered at Avery from over the rim of his goblet.
Avery scowled and turned away, choosing instead to strike up conversation with someone who wouldn't destroy him.
One potential conversation avoided, about seventeen more to go.
Dessert had been served, and the wine seemed to flow endlessly into the guests' goblets. Severus sat near motionless, goblet clasped between both hands. He barely listened to Lucius' long-winded post-dinner speech on the nature of friendship and loyalty and all sorts of other things that the older man likely only understood as vague concepts rather than principles to live by.
After a while, the relative stupidity and annoyance caused by the other dinner guests began to dissipate; Severus began to lounge in his chair rather than perch on the edge like a great hulking bird ready to take flight. With a last shred of logic, he realised the alcohol was affecting him much more quickly than usual, and he made a mental note to ask Lucius precisely where he'd gotten this particular brand of wine.
Severus stabbed idly at his dessert with his fork; if he paid attention to the jiggling flan creation before him, he didn't have to listen to Avery natter on about politics and robe-buying and that fine bird he bedded himself last weekend, you know she said was twenty but looked younger and had just the sweetest little figure ever, and why don't you ever talk about the ladies, Snape?
Severus closed his eyes for a second, just a second, resting the goblet against his tightly-closed lips, and when he opened his eyes again, the plates had been cleared from the table, and the infernal dinner guests had left the room. It was dark, incredibly dark, and Severus strained to see. He squinted into the dim room, setting the goblet gently on the table with unsteady hands, before pulling out his wand. "Lumos," he whispered, holding the wand aloft; he frowned at it in consternation when the spell seemed to have little effect.
"Severus," called a silky smooth voice -- Lucius, as always -- from the doorway. "Put down your wand, old friend."
Severus turned toward the direction of Lucius' voice, which was difficult to discern over the throbbing of his temples and the pounding of his heart. "I'll do no such thing," he said, squinting harder still and barely making out two pale faces and long blonde manes. Lucius and Narcissa, or was he just seeing double? He didn't know.
"Come with me," the voice -- now androgynous, both Lucius and Narcissa, man and woman, human and creature -- demanded. "Come with me." A pale hand, two pale hands extended, beckoning to him; a whole slew of hands grappled at his shirtcuffs and coattails and at the hem of his robes, and he stumbled forward, into the hands, and into the dark.
He awoke and found that he could not move, no matter how hard he tried. His head throbbed and his tongue felt rough in his mouth, but at least he was clothed and still alive. Those were both important aspects to keep in mind.
Slowly, Severus opened his eyes and found that he could see, the surreal darkness of time prior now a thing of the past. And what he saw was a familiar sight -- the arched white ceiling of Lucius' bedroom. He couldn't move because his wrists and ankles were bound to the bedposts.
How predictable, Lucius, he thought, and he sighed and craned his neck to look at what bound him to the bed, rotating and wiggling his wrists experimentally.
The knots were quite good, and Severus wondered why he hadn't known that Lucius could tie knots like that.
No matter how he squirmed, though, he couldn't get free of his bonds, so he would just have to wait.
And Severus could be very, very patient.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on feeling the magic coursing through him. If he could dredge up enough power for a wandless, soundless accio wand, perhaps he could get out of this situation mostly unscathed.
"You'll not find your wand that way," whispered a voice -- Lucius, of course -- directly to Severus' ear, startling him. Severus twitched, eyelids flying open, and he glared harshly at Lucius.
"What did you do to me?" he said -- or, more appropriately, tried to say, as no sound escaped his lips. His eyes opened wider than before, aghast; Severus tried again to speak, to no avail.
"Nothing permanent," Lucius said, pulling his wand from the folds of his robes. He flicked it at the bonds holding Severus' wrists and ankles, and the ropes slithered away, coiling back around the bedposts. "Just my own little surprise, is all." Lucius slid his wand back into his robes, and then slid onto the bed next to Severus.
Severus, of course, scowled and moved to get up -- voice or no, he wasn't putting himself in this situation. He'd been well quit of Lucius for ages now, what with the wife and the small child and the general maniacal tendencies, and he wasn't going to lose all the progress he made. Not now. Not like this.
"Ah, ah," Lucius scolded, hand shooting up and grasping Severus' wrist, dragging him back to the bed. "I can't have the surprise if you leave, Severus. Don't make me tie you down again." He leered at the younger man, making it very clear that he, at least, would probably actually enjoy that very much.
"Let me go," Severus mouthed, pulling his arm back to his chest.
"No," Lucius said, reaching for his wand again, which he pointed lazily at Severus. "With just a flick of my wand, I can make you a mute forever. You know this. I suggest you just sit still." Lucius twirled his wand about between his fingers, his steely gaze locked on Severus' as the younger man glared at him suspiciously.
"All set to stay for a while, then, yes?"
Severus merely glowered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Good." Lucius toed off his shoes, letting them fall with a thud at the edge of the bed, before clambering up fully on the bed. "Now strip."
Severus' eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. "Narcissa," he mouthed, jerking his head toward the door that led to her dressing room.
Lucius smiled broadly then, hands rising to begin working at the buttons of Severus' frockcoat. "She'll be joining us shortly, not to worry."
With that, Lucius proceeded to unfasten Severus' many rows of buttons, slipping the coat from the shoulders of the still silently-sputtering man. "Get a hold of yourself, Severus," he chided, working now at the buttons of Severus' crisp white shirt. "It's a shining opportunity in a sea of darkness, if I must say so myself." The shirt was unbuttoned now and slid from Severus' shoulders, joining the frockcoat to hand limply at his wrists. "You'd be a fool to pass it up, a dead fool." The double entendre was, of course, fully intentional.
Lucius quickly closed the gap between himself and Severus, crushing his lips to the other man's. "Just like old times," he murmured as he pulled away for a second, before biting at Severus' lips, his neck, his ears, at anything he could reach.
"Lucius," Severus mouthed, shaking his wrists free of his clothing, hands open now to grasp at the front of Lucius' robes. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to push the older man away, or if he wanted to pull him closer.
"You know," Lucius said as his fingers efficiently unfastened Severus' belt and the closure of his trousers, "I really enjoy this much better when you can't speak." He flicked his pale eyes up to meet Severus' gaze for an instant before turning his attention back to Severus' trousers. "Though this would be much easier if you bothered to obey instructions. Insolent as always." He sighed heavily as he pushed Severus' trousers down over his hips. "I thought I told you to strip, and here I am doing all the hard work."
It took some jostling, but eventually Severus was divested of his clothing; he reclined, naked and very wary, at the centre of the bed. Lucius removed his own coat, leaving him in shirtsleeves and trousers, which he was currently working on unfastening. His growing erection was clearly outlined in his trousers, and despite Severus' best efforts, he found himself responding to the situation without even being touched. He silently cursed his traitorous body, cheeks flushing for just a moment when he realised Lucius was staring intently at him.
"Never were easy on the eyes," Lucius sighed, pushing his own trousers over his hips. He let them slide to the floor, forgotten for now, then moved to crawl up Severus' body. "Suck me," he commanded, knees on either side of Severus' head.
The younger man shot a steely glare at Lucius -- how dare you order me around, it said -- then adjusted his position slightly. If he had to do it, he might as well be comfortable, at least.
And he had to do it. There was no saying no to Lucius; Severus learned that very early on.
He raised himself up a bit on his elbows, then tentatively licked along the underside of Lucius' cock, which bobbed and swayed at Severus' lips. Lucius sighed, a long release of air that said, to Severus, that it had been too long since Lucius' cock had been between anyone's lips.
Severus mapped the surface of Lucius' erection with his tongue, reacquainting himself with its feel. It occurred to him that perhaps he was the last person to touch Lucius like this, and he couldn't help but smile. No matter how badly Lucius wished to get rid of him, he knew that he always would have at least one purpose, no matter how debasing of a purpose it could be at times.
He closed his lips over Lucius' cock then, slight pressure and a flick of the tongue and just so. Lucius squirmed, pushing his hips forward, burying himself fully in Severus' mouth. The younger man sighed -- soundlessly, of course -- and began moving his lips up and down, very slowly, over Lucius.
The older man tangled his fingers in Severus' hair, tightly holding his head in place. Lucius groaned as he fucked Severus' mouth, the younger man writhing beneath him. "Fuck," he hissed, thrusting faster.
He built up a steady rhythm, hips jutting forward, Severus moving forward to take him in completely.
Lucius didn't even pause, didn't even blink, when he heard the door to the dressing room open. "Darling," called out a very impatient female voice, "are you ready yet?"
Severus pulled off of Lucius immediately, squirming to get free, to escape, to at least cover his nakedness. Lucius laughed. "Just about so, Narcissa," he responded, turning his head to look at his wife, who leaned lazily against the doorframe.
Lucius pushed Severus back to the bed. "You can't go anywhere. This is the best part of the surprise, Severus," Lucius whispered, leaning in to kiss Severus before climbing off of the bed and advancing to meet his wife.
"Lucius, I can't--"
Her words were cut off as Lucius grabbed her about the waist and pushed her against the wall, straddling her legs with his own, kissing her fiercely. She was still fully dressed in her finest clothes from the dinner party, but she could clearly feel Lucius' erection nudging her through her skirts.
"Oh," she moaned, letting her hands roam her husband's body, finally settling to tangle in his long blonde hair.
"This is the best of surprises," he whispered into her ear, ducking to nip at the pale flesh of her neck.
"I want to see my surprise, Lucius," Narcissa responded quickly. She let her hands drop for a moment, seizing his hands and placing them on her own body -- one at her hip, the other at her breast. "I want to see you, Lucius."
"All in good time." Lucius smiled against her skin, letting his hands go where she directed them. He pinched her nipple roughly, eliciting a most undignified moan, and then backed away from her. "Come with me." Lucius grabbed her hands and led her to the bed.
He turned her about so that her back was pressed to his chest, and they were both facing the bed, and consequently, Severus himself. "Tell me what you see," he whispered to her, eyes locked on Severus' own.
"I see nothing," she responded. "Nothing but black."
Suddenly everything made sense to Severus. The wine, the strange visions he'd had after all the guests had left. Distantly, part of Severus' mind wondered if there'd ever even been a party in the first place.
A lover who cannot speak, a wife who cannot see. Narcissa would know nothing of his existence unless Lucius chose to inform her.
It was sadistic, and it was perfect.
"Wonderful," Lucius murmured, and he broke gaze with Severus to stare down at his wife's clothes, which he had begun to remove.
Her many layers of skirts, of stays and chemises and scarves, petticoats and hosiery, took much longer to remove than Severus' own garments with their many buttons, which were simple by comparison. Lucius made quite the show of it as well, dropping to his knees to finish the job of sliding her skirts to the ground. She was left in a simple white cotton shift, and Lucius nodded, satisfied, as he stood up, letting his fingers trail up her legs, edging underneath the shift and between her legs. She was wet and ready already, and Lucius smiled. His wife always was more interesting than she let on in polite company.
"Come to bed, Narcissa," he whispered, guiding her to the bed.
She blindly complied, following where Lucius took her. He guided her to sit on the edge of the bed, then swung her legs up over the side so that she could recline fully. Lucius glanced at Severus again, then clambered on top of his wife, wasting no time in hiking up the cotton shift and positioning himself between her legs.
"So beautiful," he murmured, pushing inside her without preamble. She groaned, hips rising up to meet his. The groan turned to a whimper, though, as Lucius quickly withdrew.
"Lucius," she moaned, reaching out with her hands to try to guide him back to her.
"The surprise, darling," he said, grinning. "We can't forget the surprise."
Silently, Lucius turned his gaze to Severus, who had backed up to the far side of the mattress, little interest in watching Lucius and his wife together. The older man moved from atop Narcissa, grabbing Severus by the arm and pulling him closer.
He positioned himself behind Severus, letting one hand drop to the younger man's erection, the other hand spreading Severus' arse, fingers probing his entrance none too delicately. "You're going to fuck her," he whispered, nodding at his wife, "while I fuck you."
Severus whipped his head around to stare, wide-eyed at Lucius. In that moment, he wasn't a self-assured young man; he was a scared boy trapped in an adult's body, and he wanted no part of this. It wasn't him. He didn't want this.
"You'll do it," Lucius said, voice taking on a harder edge, and Severus knew he had no choice.
With a last lingering glance at Lucius, Severus slowly moved from his position on the bed to straddle Narcissa, much as Lucius had done just moments before.
"Lucius?" she asked tentatively, hands reaching out and touching much colder, much softer flesh than her husband's.
"All part of the surprise," he said, tone reassuring and even, though his eyes were wild and his breath was more laboured than before.
"Hmph," she sighed, and she spread her legs further, inviting the unseen Severus closer.
He glanced over his shoulder at Lucius one more time, eyes imploring for permission. The older man rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively at Severus. "Get on with it," he admonished, and he pushed Severus into place. Lucius himself fell into place behind Severus shortly thereafter.
With a slightly tremble, Severus brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them, then lowered them to Narcissa. He let his fingers run lightly up the inside of her thigh, watching as she shuddered, then up to rub gently at her clitoris, and she shuddered again, her moan more urgent now.
"Please," she whispered, grasping Severus' fingers with her own. She repositioned him, letting his fingers slip inside of her. Narcissa's hips bucked up as he pushed in, and she smiled, and Lucius smiled, and Severus let his crooked frown relax for just a fraction of a second.
Lucius, meanwhile, sat back on his haunches and waited, lazily stroking at his own erection. His time would arrive soon enough.
"Please," Narcissa whispered again, and she blindly reached forward, shoving Severus' hand away and tugging at his hips. "Please."
Severus took a deep breath, then dropped one hand to Narcissa's hip to steady himself. The other hand grasped his erection, which he positioned at her entrance. She felt the head of his cock nudge her, and she wasted no time, pushing up to take him completely inside of her.
They both groaned, she loudly, he silently, and Severus paused, waiting to get accustomed to the feeling.
Before long, he began to move again, with slow, long strokes, burying himself to the hilt the entire while. He let his hands roam her body, his sallow, potion-stained hands in sharp contrast to her perfect, ivory skin. He didn't know what Lucius was playing at, with this surprise, and now was certainly not the time to give it much thought.
Severus was so concentrated on Narcissa that he hardly noticed when Lucius' fingers, slippery and warm, began probing at his entrance. He breathed in sharply, only losing a fraction of a beat as he thrust into Narcissa, when Lucius pushed his fingers inside.
Lucius never was much of a believer in foreplay, it had come to be known.
Severus drew his lower lip between his teeth as he felt Lucius' fingers brush against his prostate. He closed his eyes, trying to simply concentrate on the simple in and out, the rocking of his hips forward and back, the brush of a finger against a nipple, the cupping of a breast.
Lucius pulled his fingers back, and Severus squeezed his eyes shut even more tightly, knowing what was coming next. "Keep fucking her," Lucius whispered into Severus ear as he slowly pushed his cock inside of the younger man. Severus in turn reared back, then bucked forward to meet Narcissa's hips, which drew up to meet him.
It didn’t take too long for the three to move in tandem, pushing and pulling and existing all as one, just for a moment in time. Severus slumped forward, burying his head in the crook of Narcissa's neck, as he felt a familiar heat soar through his body, and he knew it was almost over. His lips found the skin of her neck and he kissed and sucked at her savagely.
"Oh," she moaned, and her back arched. Narcissa pushed her hips up insistently, head thrown back and cheeks flushed. Lucius sped up his own thrusting, angling up so that he repeatedly brushed Severus' prostate. The younger man writhed between Lucius and Malfoy, impaled, stuck, and utterly lost in pleasure. Lucius smiled, not a cruel grin, but one of genuine satisfaction, as he reached around Severus to drag his fingers across his wife's body, stopping to rub gently at her clitoris while Severus frantically thrust against her.
In the end, Severus was the first to go.
Lucius felt the younger man's back stiffen underneath him, noticed his fingers clutch tightly in Narcissa's hair, felt his other hand swing back to twine in Lucius' own hair, linking the three together as Severus pushed forward one last, desperate time, spending himself.
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he came to climax, face pressed into Narcissa's hot skin. She was next, her head thrown back, her moan silent on her lips as her own orgasm came. Severus' eyes widened as she contracted around his slowly softening cock, and she stayed arched off of the bed until sound finally returned, and her silent moan turned into a low sigh as all of the tension fled her body.
Lucius, of course, was last, if only because he forced himself to hold true to the old adage of save the best for last.
It only took a few hard thrusts to bring himself off -- he had been so close for so long, and watching his wife's body arch and sag with pleasure was all he needed in the end. Severus moaned as he felt Lucius' last thrust, skin slapping angrily against skin, as he felt Lucius reach his own orgasm.
The most notable thing, really, was that Severus' moan was actually audible.
He hadn't even noticed, truth be told. But Narcissa did.
"Lucius?" she said softly. "Who else is here?"
Lucius grunted, slipping out of Severus' body and moving back a bit so that Severus could detangle his gangly limbs from the whole mess.
"It's all part of the surprise, darling," he said, voice taking on a hard edge.
Severus glanced back at Lucius. "What--"
"Severus?" Narcissa's eyes widened, and her hand shot up to grab Severus' chin, forcing him to look at her.
"Lucius, what--" Severus stared at Narcissa, their faces matching examples of shock and confusion.
"All part of the surprise," Lucius said with a shrug, pushing off from the bed. He ducked between Severus and Narcissa to plant a kiss on his wife's cheek. "All part of the surprise."
Request: I'd love to see a Lucius/Snape/Narcissa threesome. It would be especially fun if somehow Snape is fucking Narcissa while Narcissa is giving Lucius a blowjob or something, and Lucius doesn't know Snape is there (magic? blindfolds? up to you). Or even better, if Snape and Lucius are going at it and Narcissa doesn't realize Snape is there. Ooh, yeah, that second one sounds even more fun, so if you can manage that I'd prefer it, but either scenario will be petted and loved. All three characters should be involved in the smut, though, even if one isn't aware the third person is there. Angsty mindgames as the root of all this nonsense would be lovely, as would a twisted ending where the game is discovered and the characters react.