Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Implied Arthur/Lucius/Walden
Summary: 340-word drabble; Walden has an unlikely secret fascination…
Warnings: M/M slash, threesome, implied violence, horror themes, AU
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K Rowling. None of this ever happened, but it would be interesting if it did.
Walden Macnair enjoyed being with both his lovers, but this new fascination he had developed was a pleasure he could share only with Arthur. Lucius spurned and despised all things Muggle, after all…
The executioner found himself spending many Friday evenings in crowded Muggle cinemas, scents of buttered popcorn heavy in the air and the strange taste of a fizzing beverage more sickly-sweet than Butterbeer on his tongue, staring upwards at a flat, wide screen where frightening images moved and flickered incessantly.
Arthur would cover his eyes at the gory bits, but Walden loved the tension and bloodshed being enacted before him. Scenes that drew gasps of shock from the faint of heart around him were to him a source of strange delight. The black humour of Freddy Krueger and the silent malevolence of Michael Myers were compelling, to be sure, but it was the Friday the 13th series of films that Walden warmed to most of all. The tragic tale of a little boy drowned in a lake, and his mother’s quest to avenge him. The hulking figure of Jason Voorhees, his face shielded by the chilling blankness of a mask, machete ominously raised, relentlessly slaughtering victims in the name of the beloved mother who had pursued a bloody vengeance for his sake…
After the movie, Walden and Arthur would join Lucius for dinner, and the aristocratic Malfoy would feign boredom and disinterest in his lovers’ recounting of the film. He would be more enthusiastic at the merging of all three men’s bodies in his huge four-poster bed later that night, of course.
The lovemaking was always exquisite on these nights, but for hours afterwards Walden would lie awake and replay the killing scenes in his mind. And when he at last returned home, he would go to his arsenal of weapons and take up the machete he had been given as a gift for his tenth birthday, honing the blade and polishing the handle till it glistened.
And missing his own late, lamented mother with all his heart.
Love & Serpents' Kisses,