May 2016


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Fic: Return to Me - LM/DM - pre DH canon

Title: Return to Me
Author: [info]elfflame
Characters: Lucius/Draco, mention of Lucius/Severus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, rough first-time sex
Word Count: 3521
Summary: Lucius’s time in Azkaban has caused him to withdraw from his son. Draco wants to know why.
Author's notes: For the pre-DH [info]daily_deviant Farewell FQF for prompt 42. Lucius/Draco - after Azkaban, Lucius needs love and seeks it from the one person he is sure loves him - incest, dub-con, first time. I didn’t quite manage to get the dub-con in there, but I hope the inclusion of a certain other pairing will help. Betaed by the lovely [info]ceria_taliesin, whose help is incomparable. :D

Lucius still wasn’t eating. Draco had checked after every meal. First in the kitchen, then later, at seeing the untouched trays time and time again, he had insisted upon retrieving them himself to see that Lucius had eaten. But every plate, every bowl, every glass…they all remained untouched. Something would have to be done.

Knocking on Lucius’s door to let him know he was entering, Draco turned the handle and stepped into the room. Lucius was lying on his bed, turned away from the door, as he had been every time Draco had come to try to see him. His form was half-obscured by the covers. Draco hoped that he’d moved at least, since the last time he’d been in several hours before around breakfast time, but he had the sinking feeling he had not.

He refused to lose them both.


The voice was a rasp, little of the proud, strong man remaining in it. “Go away.”

“I can’t. You’re in pain. How can I help you, father?”

“You can’t. Now go away.”

“That’s not going to happen. Not until I’ve seen you move. Seen you eat something. She wouldn’t have wanted this, father. Please…”

He knew his parents had cared for each other. It hadn’t been a conventional marriage by any means, but it had been loving. No matter how many lovers either had taken, both had been discreet in their liaisons, and they had always returned home to each other. Draco could only imagine what her death must be doing to his father.

He moved to settle at the edge of the bed, then reached out to touch his father’s arm. Lucius jerked away. Eyes that should have been a pale silvery blue, but were now near black with just an edge of silver–from being in this darkened room–glowered out at him from the bedclothes.

“Don’t touch me,” Lucius growled.


“No!” The man sat up, dragging himself to the further corner of the bed, then glowered at his son once more. “You can’t help me, Draco.”

“Please, father. Let me try,” Draco pleaded. A Malfoy never begged, but then the Malfoys had never been this close to losing everything, and Draco refused to lose his father. Not like this.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Lucius turned away, the bedclothes hiding him once more.

Sighing, Draco reached across the bed to pull the covers from his father’s face, and jumped when a hand clasped at his wrist. Lucius was glowering at him once more. “I don’t want to hurt you. I refuse,” he said. Draco could hear that he was clenching his teeth. “However, if you do not leave my room this instant, I will not be held responsible for what happens, Draco.”

Lucius wasn’t a violent man. Not with his family. The fact that he was so on edge that he would threaten his son and heir… Draco pulled away, relieved when his father released his wrist.

“Please…I can’t lose you father. Don’t do this.”

Lucius didn’t bother responding again. He just curled up tighter in his cocoon of blankets.

Draco sighed, then stood. Obviously, he would have to try again another time. Maybe once he’d talked to their guest. Perhaps Severus might have some insight in how to get through to him. After all, they’d known each other for almost thirty years.

He blinked when he stepped out of the room, not able to see for a moment from the wash of light from the hall windows. One would never know it was day inside his father’s rooms. Had Azkaban really affected him so badly that now that he was free he would just waste away because his wife had died? There had to be something to save him.

After the war, Draco had offered Severus a suite of rooms at the Manor. He’d already been a close family friend before the war, and his actions in saving Draco’s life, and in helping him get Lucius released after the war was over had made him family as far as Draco was concerned. He had hoped having Severus here might help his father adjust, but apparently Lucius’s old lover being nearby didn’t seem to be enough to revive him.

Still, Severus seemed content to stay here with them. Draco hoped that eventually one or the other of them would get through to his father. Preferably sooner rather than later. But perhaps it was time to join forces? At the very least, there had to be something Severus could tell him as far as how to reach his father.

Reaching Severus’s rooms, Draco knocked at the door, this time waiting until he heard the silky, “Come in,” before turning the handle.

“Severus,” he greeted. Just seeing his former professor helped calm the roil of emotions that was threatening to overwhelm him. “Did you have a good lunch?”

“Lovely as always, Draco. But then your mother always knew how to organize house-elves better than anyone I have ever met.”

Draco nodded. It still hurt that she wasn’t here any longer, but it twinged just a bit less each time he thought of her. “Yes. Mother was good at a lot of things.”

“Including getting your father out of his snits?” Severus asked, one sharp black eyebrow raised.

Just hearing the words from his former professor helped to loosen Draco’s tongue. “Something like that. He’s still not eating, Severus. He won’t last much longer like this. I don’t know what to do. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

“He needs time, Draco. If it makes you feel better, he has taken a nutrient potion a day since returning here. I have only visited him a few times, but I do not think Lucius Malfoy would allow himself to simply fade away.”

“Nutrient potions will only extend how long it will take him to fade away, Severus. You know that better than I do. I can’t lose him. But he refuses to even talk to me. I just don’t understand why.” He hated that he sounded as though he were whining, but right now, he couldn’t let himself worry about such trivialities. He’d known this man since he was small. Severus had seen him in far worse moods. “Help me find a way to reach him, Severus. Please.”

Severus sat back, looking at Draco for a long time before he answered. “Azkaban does not fade easily, Draco. Even when nothing has changed outside. And when there are large changes, it is even worse.”

“I know it must be difficult to adjust—”

“Not just difficult, Draco. Even with no Dementors at the prison, their effect lingers. One gets lost in the dark memories, and sometimes the memory one clings to in order to ward off the darkness is shattered by the reality one returns to.”

“What do you mean?”

Severus sighed. “Your father was there for three years, Draco. His memories are of a different world. One where he was married. One where he had a young son who took his word as gospel. The adjustment for him…”

“Are you saying…I’m the reason he can’t adjust?”

“I am saying that this will take more than you simply griping at him and worrying about him all the time, Draco,” Severus returned disapprovingly.

“Then what should I do, Severus?”

“You have to decide if you are willing to do anything he needs, Draco. Anything he asks. Are you?”

What sort of inane question was that? “Of course I would! What on Earth…”

“Even if it is something you might not want yourself?”

Draco was taken aback. “If it would bring him back to me? Yes.”

It was a long time before Severus spoke again. “Your father… He spent most of his time in Azkaban worrying about you, Draco. The few times he was allowed to write, he wrote to me to learn how you were doing. His first question when the guards came to release him was if you would be waiting.”

“But…then why won’t he talk to me? Why does he yell at me to leave him alone?”

“Sometimes, Draco, we shut ourselves off from others to keep from hurting them.”

“But he loves me. Father would never hurt me.”

“He would not wish to, no. But right now, he is uncertain of his own reactions. Worried that he might. That he wants something he should not have. Do you understand?”

The reasoning made no sense to Draco. His father could never hurt him. Would never want to. So why did he believe Draco would ever turn him away? “I…” Draco sighed. “No. I suppose I should go think about all this.” He stood. “Thank you, Severus.”

Severus nodded, and Draco could see a small, sad smile flicker around the corners of his mouth. “He is lucky to have a son like you.”

“I am lucky to have a father like him,” Draco said in response. Then, without another word, and not giving Severus a chance to respond, he left, returning to his own rooms to think.

It was a long afternoon, full of thoughts Draco had never let himself consider before. He needed his father. No matter what. What he didn’t quite understand was what Severus thought his father needed from him. He seemed to imply that he had become the center of his father’s world. But if that were true, then why push him away? Why threaten him with violence?

It wasn’t until the last few minutes before he went down for his father’s tray that another thought occurred to him. Could Severus mean that Lucius was pushing him away because he wanted him? Because he wanted something other than a simple familial relationship?

The thought of it left Draco stunned. Was that what his father wanted? And if so, was he willing to offer himself to his father? But no matter how he worked it in his mind, the only answer Draco could come up with was yes. He loved his father more than any other living being. Could he really deny him the one thing he needed to recover? The answer to that had to be no. He needed his father too much.

And, somewhere deep down inside, he realized there was some part of him that had wondered what it might be like.

When he entered his father’s room that evening, he felt strong in a way he had only once before. He’d been certain he was doing the right thing to save his family then, too. But this time, he knew he would. He wasn’t about to let go. No matter what.

When he opened his father’s door, his heart was beating quite fast. Fear and hope battled inside him. What if this wasn’t enough? What if it were something else that Lucius needed? What if this wasn’t what he wanted?

Lucius’s rasp of a voice woke him from his reverie. “Either stay or go, but close the door.”

“Yes, father,” Draco said, grateful for the distraction. He stepped into the room, then set down the tray before going to his father’s bedside. “How are you feeling? The house-elves have served duck tonight. Your favorite.”

“I don’t want it. Take it back.”

Draco settled next to him. “I will. But first, tell me how to help you, father. Please. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Lucius avoided his gaze, turning towards the far window. “There are some things no one should be asked, Draco.” His voice was so low, Draco wasn’t sure he’d heard right, though he felt his heart constrict in his chest.

“I don’t care. If…if it would bring you back to me…I’d do anything, father.”

Turning back to look at him, Lucius scowled. “Do not say such things, Draco. People might misunderstand. Surely I have taught you better?”

“I’m not a child, father. I know what I want. What I need. And if…there is any way…please, father. Let me help you.”

With a snarl, Lucius grabbed his wrist once more and pulled him closer. Close enough for Draco to feel his breath on his cheek. “You cannot possibly understand, Draco,” he growled, and Draco shivered, then licked his lips, meeting his father’s eyes.

“You think so? Do you truly think so little of me? That I have no clue as to what you might want? Why you keep pushing me away?” He reached out and cupped Lucius’s cheek. “I love you. And I would do anything for you, father. I have already. I have done things…I would never have expected to save you from that place. Killed. Helped Potter. All so I could have you back. But…some things are…far less of a task than others.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across his father’s. “And some are no task at all.”

Within a second, he found himself on his back, Lucius looming over him. “You don’t know,” his father said again. “You can’t possibly…”

“And why not? We are Malfoys, father. We make our own rules.” He swallowed. “Tell me. Is this what you want?” It felt like his heart was beating in his throat as he waited for the answer.

“You can’t possibly want this,” Lucius whispered.

Draco’s response was immediate and confident. “I do.”

Lucius seemed uncertain for only a second, then there were strong lips covering Draco’s and he found his fingers twining in lank hair, unable to hold back the moan caused by his father’s hungry kiss. Lucius didn't pull away until Draco had begun to feel as though he might never remember what it was like to kiss anyone else. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Just with girls,” Draco said as he licked his lips and tried not to blush. He’d known that Lucius preferred men over women, but he’d never felt the inclination himself. Mostly because no one could ever possibly match up to the image of his father, and wasn’t that a surprise when he thought about it now? He’d always simply assumed that he would get married someday and have an heir like his father had before him, and that would make his father proud. Now he found that what he had truly wanted was to be whatever his father wished most of him. And apparently, Azkaban had changed that.

“I can’t be gentle,” Lucius said, and Draco could feel him pulling away again, and tugged him back.

“I don’t care.” He pulled Lucius into another kiss, and felt his father’s groan as he surrendered to his own need, his hands tightening on Draco’s shoulders as their bodies pressed together.

Lucius’s movements were jerky. Just on the accidental side of violence—not intended, but needy and just a touch overeager, which took Draco’s breath in a way his hungry kisses did not. He helped remove his own robe, glad he’d felt the need to be traditional this morning, and that he wore little underneath. There were lips everywhere, it felt like, and Draco could never recall feeling this out of control during sex. Nor such willingness to give up control to another. But then, his father wasn’t just anyone else.

It was easy enough to dispose of the little clothing Lucius had on, and soon the two of them were pressed skin to skin, and Draco thought he might explode. He had to admit, now that this was really about to happen, that he couldn’t help but feel a thread of fear go through him. He’d heard somewhere once that a lot of preparation would be needed, and his father didn’t look like he had the patience. What if Lucius hurt him? Would he stop if Draco asked? “Father?”

Strong lips caught his in another kiss, even as he felt somehow slick fingers press between his legs and against the entrance there. “Take deep breaths and relax, Draco,” Lucius whispered. And then there was something inside him, and Draco arched from the bed. Too much, too big… Lucius caught his chin. “Breathe,” he growled, and Draco shuddered, trying to obey the command. Soon the pain faded, and all that was left was a burn, but before he could grow accustomed to it, the fingers were being pulled away. “On your knees, Draco.”

It was instinct to obey Lucius, and there was also something inside him needing more. Needing to be filled. Now that the fingers had gone, he felt so empty. He rolled to his front, then pulled his knees up to his chest, raising up a bit, and shivering when he felt his father’s hands close around his waist. Then there were lips sucking at his neck, and something far larger than fingers was pressing against him. “Oh…” He couldn’t help but brace himself, and then—ohgod…Lucius was too big. It was going to tear him apart.

“Breathe, damn you, boy,” Lucius growled again. “If you don’t relax, you’ll hurt us both!”

Easier said than done. All he wanted was to pull away and tell his father this had been a horrible mistake. And then Lucius shifted just so inside him, and he let out a gasp as his body exploded with pleasure. “Oh…fuck!” He pressed back against him, wanting to feel that again. It still stung, but right now he couldn’t care. Apparently, that had been all Lucius was waiting for, as he thrust into Draco again, this time with far more force, and Draco howled as his father pressed into him with greater and greater force.

Lucius was muttering things under his breath, obviously still unused to others nearby after years of being alone. It took a few minutes before Draco realized what his father was saying. “Yes…perfect. Just the way I knew he would be. Tight…my beautiful boy. Draco…” Each word was interspersed with a lick or a kiss, and soon, Draco was rocking back into each thrust, enflamed by every word, every press of skin, only coming out of his need-filled trance for a moment when strong fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Ah! Father?” he gasped.

“Come for me, Draco,” Lucius whispered as he stroked him.

It didn’t take much more than that. With a shudder and a cry, Draco pressed into his father’s hand, and felt his climax wash over him. It was so much more intense than anything he’d ever done with a girl, and as Lucius climaxed inside of him, he knew that he’d never be able to give up this feeling. As he sank into the bed, Lucius pulling away just enough so as not to crush him, Draco realized that he had no clue if his father felt feel the same.

Once Lucius regained his breath, they shifted, and he pulled Draco into a tight embrace. “Do you regret it?” he asked softly.

Draco shook his head. “Never,” he said, meeting his father’s eyes. “I could never do that.”

The answer brought a smile to Lucius’s face. The first Draco had seen since his release. “Good.” He was silent for a long moment, his fingers tracing Draco’s face. When Draco shifted uncomfortably, he scowled, though obviously more at himself than Draco. “Did I hurt you?”


“I can heal you, if you’d like.”

The truth was, even though it hurt a bit, Draco didn’t just want this to all go away, and be forgotten. So instead, he asked a question of his own. “Now you’ll go back to him and forget me, won’t you?”

Lucius barely repressed a snort. “And why would I do that, Draco?”

“Because I know you care for him. And he cares for you.”

“Tell me, Draco…this flash of insight you had. I don’t suppose he had a hand in it?”

Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to admit he’d needed help from Severus to understand his own father, but he finally nodded. “Yes.”

“And you think he would have sent you to me, knowing I’d be willing to give you up? Does that sound like me, Draco?”

It was difficult to ignore the hope blooming in his chest, but Draco concealed it the best he could before answering. “I assumed he would expect me to bow out once you were better.” He was silent for a moment. “Are you better, father?” he asked.

A smirk spread across Lucius’s face. “Oh, no. I am afraid I will need a great deal more healing before I am better, Draco.” Before Draco could respond, Lucius pulled him into a kiss, and Draco felt himself arch against him once more, his body craving more, even through the aches from their first round.

“And Severus?” Draco asked breathlessly once he pulled away.

“I don’t see why he can’t join us. Unless you have a problem with that?”

Draco tried to school his expression, but it was all he could do not to throw his arms around his father’s neck and cling to him. “No,” he whispered, pressing against his father. “I love you, father.”

“And I love you, my beautiful boy,” Lucius said, pulling him closer, his arms tightening in a way Draco knew meant that he would never truly let go again. Nor did Draco want him to.