Work Text:
"You are so messy again," Lucius murmured, brushing Harry's hair out of his face. He trailed lower, fixing the collar before sliding his finger under the leather band around Harry's throat. "The buttons undone. You need my help with getting ready for the ball, don't you?" He enjoyed the colour spreading on Harry's cheeks and how Harry avoided his eyes, looking meekly down at their feet. "I asked a question." He gripped the collar, tightening it.
"Yes, Sir," Harry choked, looking finally up. Lucius smiled at him before dropping a small peck on the corner of his mouth.
"Good boy," he whispered, letting go of the collar. He stepped back, admiring the way the flush continued under Harry's shirt. "You will look dashing in green, darling." He fixed the last two buttons until the shirt collar sat snugly around Harry's throat. It was such a shame he had to hide the leather collar, the collar of ownership for the ball, but he didn't want to use the event for explaining what it was. That he wasn't making the Boy-Who-Lived his slave—at least, not without his consent.
Harry stood in place while Lucius fetched his trousers. The dark green, so dark it looked black, shimmered under the lights, and it would be accented by lighter dress robes.
Lucius kneeled at Harry's feet and tapped his ankle.
"Lift up," he said, gathering the fabric in his hands. It was easy to slip the trousers onto Harry's legs. "You are so good for me."
"Thank you, Sir," Harry said, his tone making Lucius lift his eyes. Oh.
He knew the effect he had on Harry whenever he took all control, but every time he saw the proof of that, it was heady. The bulge in front of Harry's underpants, the white fabric darkened around the tip of his cock.
"Didn't I tell you to change to black underwear?" he asked and watched as Harry struggled with the answer. His eyes were glassy, and it was probably a record time for his drop into the subspace.
"Yes, Sir."
Lucius stood, leaving the trousers at Harry's feet. He could always let Harry wear the white underpants, but he didn't want to encourage him not to follow his commands, especially regarding the clothes.
"Strip."
Harry's movements were slow when he pushed the waistband down, the pants dropping onto the floor after the light swell of the hips wasn't holding them up. His cock bounced against the hem of his shirt, and Lucius had half mind to scold Harry for it, but the knowledge of his precome on his shirt was actually hot, and Lucius didn't want him to change the shirt.
When Harry tried to reach for his cock, Lucius gripped his wrist, stopping him.
"No, you're not allowed to touch yourself or come until I tell you otherwise," Lucius commanded, the hitch of Harry's breath telling him how he loved the idea—the humiliation. When Harry tugged his hand back, Lucius let it go and summoned the underpants. Since Harry hadn't done as he was told, he would wear something else.
Harry recognised the item flying in Lucius's hand, and his whimper was delicious.
"Yes, when you don't follow my command, you are punished," Lucius said, handing the pants to Harry. He watched closely him pulling them on, and the black lace didn't do good to Lucius's patience, his own cock straining against the front of his trousers. "Hands behind your back."
It was a shame Harry had the shirt on already, the buttons done to the top, because he would have been a sight with the flush travelling all the way down to his navel.
Lucius shook his head and went back on his knees, gathering Harry's trousers from the floor. No matter how much he wanted to stay in his quarters for the evening, the annual Yule Ball at the Ministry was an important event, and it would do no good if both he and Harry missed it. No, it would start rumours Lucius didn't want to sort out.
Harry stood without moving while Lucius closed his trousers and buckled the belt, his eyes clearing as he came down from the subspace gently.
"You are so good for me," Lucius praised when there wasn't the usual drop, either because the subspace hadn't been deep enough or Harry knew they didn't have time for a proper aftercare. Whatever it was, Lucius was proud of him. "We're almost ready."
"Thank you, love," Harry murmured, his voice hoarse. Lucius tied Harry's shoes before standing up and cradling his face in his hands. He couldn't fight the temptation to kiss Harry, but he did his best to keep it light, not to lose himself in it when they were expected to arrive in a few minutes.
"You're welcome. Here, let's get you into your robes." Lucius held the fine dress robes in his arms, helping them on Harry. He fixed the buttons and walked behind him. He loved the laces at the back of the robes and how it was possible to highlight Harry's waist properly with tightening them, though they made the robes impossible for Harry to put on alone without his help.
Harry grunted when Lucius started pulling the laces, tightening them as tight as possible. Lucius chuckled, knowing how it felt after a break. He had taught Harry to wear a corset, but it had been months since the last time. The body forgot how the pressure around the ribs felt like, so it was something akin to a new feeling.
His fingers made a bow before he tucked the extra lace in a small pouch meant exactly for that. Lucius took a few steps back and admired the view and how it lifted Harry's arse too, not only his waist.
"Turn around for me." His eyes roamed Harry's body as he followed the command and turned around slowly, his hips almost mesmerising. "You look incredible," Lucius praised. He took Harry's hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it before pulling Harry against himself.
"Sir?"
"We need to get going, but allow me to hold you just for a moment longer," Lucius whispered. He pressed his mouth against the side of Harry's neck, smelling his cologne. It was such a shame how it hid Harry's own scent almost completely, but Lucius was a possessive man; he didn't want to just anyone smell it when it was reserved only for Lucius.
The only answer to his words was Harry's arms rising from his sides and wrapping loosely around Lucius, mindful of the fancy clothes they were wearing. They would leave for the ball in a minute. After they had had their fill of the hug, of the physical closeness, first.
Lucius apparated them into his quarters at the Malfoy Manor, his blood rushing in his veins. He was very tempted to lock Harry into a cage and leave him there for 24 hours, but he couldn't—not without negotiating it first.
"Sir—" Harry started, but Lucius interrupted him by slamming him against the wall and crushing his lips with his own. He pulled back before Harry had time to answer properly, pulling a whine from him.
"You devious boy," Lucius growled. "I will never understand how you weren't a Slytherin." He pressed their foreheads together, trying to calm down as he inhaled and exhaled. The memory came to him unbidden. "You knew exactly what you were doing to me." He sneered. He knew it was only play for Harry, but those men didn't know that. They had taken his flirting for truth, had stared at him like he was a delicious piece of meat on the table.
"Ple—"
"Do not. A slut like you does not have a right to beg," Lucius said, his voice cold and sharp. He conjured a gag and strapped it around Harry's head, stopping him from talking. A muffled sound, probably an objection, was the only thing Lucius could hear, but Harry's eyes were expressive enough to tell exactly how turned on he was.
Lucius vanished Harry's clothes, leaving him standing on his lace panties, and finally, finally, he could see the flush spreading on Harry's chest and stomach. His nipples were hard nubs, begging to be pinched, but Lucius didn't want to give them any attention.
"On your knees."
When Harry didn't move, only looked at him with defiance, Lucius grabbed his collar and pulled, forcing his legs to bend until his knees gave up.
"Do you know why you deserve a punishment? Why do you deserve more than just a regular punishment?"
Harry shook and nodded his head, giving mixed signals, and Lucius sighed. It would be a long evening for Harry, an enjoyable evening for him.
"Hands behind your back."
As soon as Harry did as he was told, Lucius spelled a rope around them, holding them securely. He took slow steps, walking around Harry, knowing the exact effect of the sound of his heels against the floor. He could see it on Harry's skin, on the goosebumps and shivers.
"Should I start from the beginning? Or from the most severe offense?"
He stopped behind Harry's back and kneeled, his robes almost brushing against Harry's feet.
"Was the entire purpose of this ball to humiliate me?"
Harry shook his head. Lucius hummed and gripped his hair, wrapping his other hand around Harry's throat. It would have been so easy to snap his neck and kill him with bare hands, the trust Harry showed him so heady he could become drunk from it with no alcohol. He forced Harry's head back, feeling his swallow under his palm. He squeezed quickly, warning him against acting out, before letting go altogether.
He stood up and circled in front of Harry. Oh, how exquisite he looked, almost naked on his knees, his pupils blown wide. His cock was straining against the black lace, the dark colour of his erection peeking through the thin fabric.
"Are you so cock-hungry that you do not realise how your behaviour affects me?"
He nudged Harry's cock with his shoe-clad foot, pulling away immediately when Harry's hips twitched.
"You have not deserved to come, not even by humping against something, even less against my leg."
The blush on Harry's skin darkened, and Lucius craved to make it more prominent. A good spanking—or whipping—was never a bad idea, even if Harry enjoyed it sometimes way too much. Knowing that, he conjured a ring between his fingers and held it in front of Harry.
"You know what this means," he murmured, his eyes roaming over all the bare skin. He bent down and lowered the pants just enough to slip the ring on Harry's cock, and it slid in place above the balls. Harry's hips twitched again, a frustrated whine coming from behind the gag. Lucius walked behind Harry before pushing him roughly. "Stay. Such a good boy."
Harry looked good, his cheek pressed against the floor and ass in the air, almost like offering it to Lucius. He told as much, enjoying how Harry shuddered. It couldn't be a comfortable position, his shoulders straining against the bonds around his wrists, holding them behind his back, but Harry didn't express any discomfort or tap out, so Lucius didn't give any attention to it.
His cane was leaning against the wall, but it didn't feel like a good choice, not for tonight.
"You do deserve a good whipping after the show you made tonight," Lucius murmured, almost on his own, but he knew Harry heard him. He conjured a whip—dark green leather, the handle matching the tails—and hit the air once, satisfied by the sound it made. Harry jolted, like he had been hit, and Lucius leaned down. He trailed his fingers from the back of Harry's neck all the way between his buttocks, building the anticipation. He knew that Harry knew that the first hit was coming at any second.
And the second one following closely behind, because the first hit was always weak, almost hesitant. No matter how much and often Lucius used the whip on his darling boy, he always needed two hits to get the strength and speed right.
Harry shook, his screams muffled into his gag as Lucius dragged the tip of the handle on Harry's back after the second hit. The skin was turning red from the places where the tails had hit, and Lucius wanted to get more of it.
"I would make you tell your offenses, but you will need to keep that gag on as long as I deem it necessary. A slut like you doesn't deserve words." He pulled the whip back, pondering where to start. He could see it in his mind; how Harry had leaned towards the people he talked with, holding their arm while laughing in a way Lucius knew to be fake. "You undid my hard work when you opened your shirt buttons, much lower than what is acceptable."
The sound of leather hitting Harry's skin was satisfying, the red lines forming across his lower back. Even more gratifying was the way Harry jolted, the sounds he made muffling into his gag. How he almost lost his position, and Lucius knew he wanted to get there, to make him lose it, so he would have a reason to tie Harry.
"You licked your lips like you wanted to go down on them," he growled, the actual anger rising in his chest. He stopped and took a deep breath, pushing the emotion behind his Occlumency walls. He never wanted to punish Harry if he was genuinely angry. It did no good to their dynamics if that happened. Only after he had calmed down, his heartbeat slowing to the normal level, he lifted the whip and aimed Harry's left arse cheek.
"You ate those pastries messily, just to lick your fingers clean afterwards. You should have seen how some guests looked at you… I bet you did it on purpose."
"You spread your legs wide, like you were inviting someone to come between them, while sitting."
"You touched other men."
"You flirted with other men."
"You… flirted with my son."
"You danced with my son."
Lucius stopped, breathing hard. His emotions were getting the better of him again, and he didn't like it. He needed to get a grip on himself if he wanted to continue, but the hurt was too strong to be ignored.
"Symphony," he forced out, knowing that it was the wisest thing to do. He cancelled every spell holding Harry and vanished the gag and the cock ring before summoning a morning gown, which he wrapped around Harry's shoulders. He kneeled next to him, waiting for him to return back to himself while petting his hair and scratching his scalp. No matter how hurt, angry or furious he was, he couldn't leave Harry on his own when he had gone so deep into the subspace first.
He called for a house-elf and ordered her to bring some water because Harry would be thirsty when he came up.
The increasing shivering told him that the moment was coming closer, and he wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him against his chest. He knew from experience how much more shocking it was to interrupt the scene, how much more comfort Harry needed before they could talk about anything. And since it usually happened when Harry used the safe word, it was probably even more shocking when Lucius had used it.
The silence was deep, and Lucius waited patiently, rubbing Harry's back and just holding him, knowing that it was what Harry would need. Harry's eyelashes fluttered, and Lucius brushed his thumb underneath Harry's eye.
"You have been so good, darling," Lucius murmured and kissed Harry's other cheek. Harry's jaw clenched, his teeth gritting together. "I love you." Lucius didn't say it often, and he kind of regretted saying it now, when Harry couldn't form a proper answer, but he couldn't not say it, either.
Harry's hands clenched on Lucius's robes, a soft whimper leaving him. It gripped Lucius's heart almost painfully, and he moved his arm around Harry's waist, securing him on his lap.
"Everything is alright," Lucius said, moving his hand from Harry's cheek into his hair, threading them between his fingers. Harry's eyes fluttered again, enough to show his green eyes for a second before they closed again. "I must apologise."
Harry made a sound, like he tried to say something, but wasn't functional yet to form the words. Lucius pressed his head against his shoulder, keeping him there as he shushed him.
"'m ok'y." Harry's voice was raspy, and Lucius wanted to cradle the adorable thing in blankets and keep him on the bed until everything was really okay.
"Darling…" He sighed, not knowing how to continue. He knew they needed to talk, that he needed to say aloud what he was feeling and for what, so Harry would know, so he wouldn't push his boundaries similarly again.
Harry pulled back slightly, and Lucius let his hand drop from Harry's hair. Their eyes met as Harry opened his eyes, his lips tightening into a frown.
"I am okay."
"It's… I am not," Lucius admitted. He wanted to look away, to unsee the confused wrinkle between Harry's eyebrows.
"You said 'symphony'," Harry said quietly, and Lucius forced himself to nod. He had never done that, while Harry had done it a few times. He almost flinched when Harry lifted his hands to his cheeks, cradling his face. It felt wrong, to be taken care of by his very submissive partner. "Love, talk to me."
"I was—am angry." Lucius swallowed and tried to pry his face away from Harry's hands, but he tightened his hold, almost painfully so. "I got jealous." The words tasted like ash in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see Harry's expression. "And I should never carry on a scene when I feel real anger or jealousy."
Harry kissed his cheek, and Lucius blinked his eyes open. He had been sure Harry would pull away, that he would look at Lucius in disgust. He met Harry's unbearable soft gaze, feeling it in his core.
"You didn't hurt me—at least in a way I didn't want to. You didn't go too far. You stopped in time." Lucius didn't feel like it, but he knew the trust had to go both ways. Harry trusted him to take care of him when he was deep in the scene and subspace, trusted him to make sure everything was well enough, that he followed Harry's limits both within the scene and outside of it.
Lucius had to trust that Harry told him if he went too far, if he did something wrong.
"It's not ideal. That the scene even started that way, but we can always learn from this," Harry continued, bringing his fingers into Lucius's hair. It felt… nice. He relaxed on the touch as he got used to sitting on the floor, not even thinking about casting a cushioning charm. "Tell me, what did I do?"
"I…" Lucius hesitated. He didn't know how to say it in a way that wouldn't be too much accusing. "Draco is my son." He tried to form his thoughts, his feelings into a more coherent form, but it was difficult. "And—"
"I get it," Harry interrupted him, and he was relieved by it. Harry had more in him to talk about emotions; he was braver. "I flirted and toyed with your son. I get it. And I won't do it again, not with him."
Lucius opened his mouth, but Harry lifted a finger to his lips, shushing him.
"I get it. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be. I apologise for doing that, and I know better in the future."
"I—I love you," Lucius struggled out, but the radiating smile on Harry's lips was worth it.
"And I love you, and I would never take your son over you. I'm yours. You take care of me, and you, love, have my heart."