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Notes: On the night of his initiation as a Death Eater, Severus Snape has an epiphany. Somewhat AU. For the Sexual Healing challenge on Pornish Pixies, and hence limited to 1000 words.

Severus stumbled away from him the moment they Apparated to the manor, his face drawn with pain and terror, clutching his arm to himself like a wounded child.

'You... you didn't tell me,' Severus gasped. 'How it would be. Lucius--'

'How what would be, Severus?'

'The Marking, you, you--Fuck you!'

Lucius winced at the foul language. 'Now, Severus, no need to be impolite.'

'You told me--you said I'd--that I'd only--swear an oath, and hold my arm forward, and... complete a test.'

Lucius raised his eyebrows. 'And isn't that exactly what you did? You swore an oath. You held out your arm. And you passed a test.'

Severus turned away as though sickened. 'You never said that I'd have to--that I'd have to--'

'Kill? Don't be a fool, Severus. You knew what we would ask of you. Did you think that all those meetings I took you to were play? That we just talked about eliminating Muggles for the jest of it; that we'd never carry through on our promises?'

Severus sank into the sofa by the fire, body shaking as if in shock. His sallow skin seemed to have been drained of all color altogether. 'She was... she was only a child...'

Lucius sighed. So that was it. He should have expected it; Muggle children looked so much like Wizarding children, after all, and since most young wizards and witches didn't develop their magic by that age, Muggle children felt the same as well. 'It was just a Muggle, Severus,' Lucius soothed. 'She would only have added to the filth had she grown older--spawned more Muggles like herself. You did the right thing.'

'Right thing,' Severus echoed, eyes glassy as though unseeing. 'Cleansing.'

'That's right.' Now that was what Lucius wanted to hear. From his young prodigy. His Potions genius; this clever, vicious, seventeen-year-old viper he'd taken as a lover--only six years younger than himself, with fierce black eyes and a merciless wit, and a body so sinuous that it rivalled a snake's.

Severus was still clutching his arm, face tight with pain.

'Hurts, does it?' Lucius asked gently. 'It's only natural. Take off your cloak and shirt; I'll get some ointment.'

He fetched the usual ointment--brewed by Severus himself, actually--from the little box just under his wine cabinet. When he walked back to the sofa he saw Severus shirtless, chest pale and gleaming in the firelight, smooth as silk. The Mark looked lovely there, on that slender arm, black as night on that moon-white skin.

Severus hissed when Lucius rubbed the ointment over his Mark. Lucius wasn't surprised to see Severus hardening under his trousers--it was quite a normal reaction to having one's Mark touched, and Severus was only seventeen, after all.

It didn't take much coaxing, after that, to help Severus to his bed--to lay him down on it, black hair as silken as the sheets themselves. Skin even softer. Severus' eyes were still unseeing, feverish, and his body hadn't quite stopped shaking--and Lucius could almost pretend, as he slipped off Severus' trousers and then his own, that he was comforting a child. Of course, he'd never comforted his own child, but Severus was just...

'So smooth,' he whispered, running ointment-slick hands over Severus' chest and thighs--watching Severus tremble, like a new-strung harp, dark eyes wide and frightened. Why was Severus frightened? They had done this many times before. 'It's all right,' he murmured, as if to a horse, easing it for the ride. 'It's all right...' He took Severus' cock in hand, long and slender and glistening, and began to pump it slowly.

'Ah,' said Severus, turning his face away--another new thing, because Severus always looked at him during sex. Well, best not to let it disturb him too much. Severus was still in shock. Lucius slowed his pace, gentled it, murmuring in Severus' ear all the while--licking languidly over Severus throat, his shoulder, settling behind him and letting Severus' warm, smooth back press against his chest. Wonderful. He wedged his leg carefully between Severus' thighs, easing them apart--feeling his own erection press into the crease of Severus' buttocks, moist with sweat and heat.

'Yes,' he heard himself sigh when he worked a finger in, newly dipped in ointment and cool--and then two, thrusting in and out slowly, enjoying the jerk of Severus' cock when he found Severus' prostate.

It was so good, then, to finally slide in himself--encased in tight and almost painful heat, cooled strangely by the ointment, making it slicker than either of them were used to, easier. It was good to wrap two arms around Severus' chest, burying his face in that sleek, dark hair--moving gently, in and out, in and out, in and out, until Severus himself started pushing back to hasten the pace. Oh, Severus wanted this--how he worked with Lucius, against him, in the best of ways--his body moving as if to finely conducted music, mouth panting and letting lose those little, helpless sounds.

It was good to come, pulsing slowly and hotly inside Severus not long after Severus himself had climaxed--his muscles tightening inside and out, throat arched and bared as if for Lucius' teeth, mouth open on a quiet, startled sob.

Lucius reached for his wand and spelled them clean, afterwards--and settled behind Severus again, warm, damp skin against warm, damp skin. Severus turned to face him for a moment, eyes strangely blank.

'You wanted to talk to Dumbledore tomorrow, didn't you?' asked Lucius, running a hand along Severus' long, pale chest. 'About that Potions job he's been talking about? Honestly, I could set you up somewhere much better after graduation, but since you want to teach...'

Severus was silent; his heart beating slow and heavy against Lucius' palm.

'Severus?'

A rustle of the sheets--and Severus said, in a voice as blank as his eyes had been: 'Yes. Yes. I'll talk to Dumbledore.'