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He knew it was wrong. Knew it with every fibre of his being. Knew that every time he weakened, he was losing a bit more of his sanity.

But he couldn't stop.

As soon as he caught sight of those icy eyes, he longed to see the passion that burned in them when they touched.

As soon as he saw the flowing platinum hair, he itched to bury his hands in it once again as that wicked mouth worked its magic.

As soon as he saw those elegant robes he shook with need to rip them off, to pin the man beneath to the wall, the bed, the floor, it mattered not where, and lose himself in lust.

And Lucius was eager; they never spoke of the war or beliefs or anything but what they wanted, needed to do to each other. Icy cool in public, burning with blazing heat when they were alone... Lucius Malfoy and Sirius Black; no one would ever believe they were secret lovers.

What Lucius wanted with him he never knew; he just knew that one day they'd met in a dark alley and instead of hexing each other, they'd rutted against each other like animals in the shadows, not even removing their clothes, rubbing against each other to climax. Both men seemingly shocked by their antagonism turned to desire, neither would say stop.

Sirius was addicted.

Now, he walked silently up a dank stairway, trying to ignore the stains on the walls and the threadbare carpet. It didn't matter where they met, as long as they were alone. Once they'd dared to meet at Malfoy Manor itself; Lucius snuck him in right under the nose of his frigid wife and the nosy house-elves, and they'd had quick, brutal sex right in Narcissa's own bed. They had to be quick, and silent, but the utter depravity of it made it certain that neither of them lasted long anyway.

They'd never done it in Sirius' home that he shared with Remus; Lucius had never suggested it and the wards upon the house would never have let in someone who bore the dark mark.

But Sirius didn't want to dwell on that; he knew Lucius awaited him, just beyond the door marked 2B, and his cock hardened further until the brush of his jeans against it maddened him.

As he approached, the door swung open on its own and he walked in. They'd never met here before; they tried to never use the same place twice. Not even sparing a glance for his surroundings, Sirius' eyes swept the room for Lucius.

There he stood, leaning almost casually against the wall, and Sirius felt himself flush with need. So cool, so contained, so utterly aloof, Lucius looked down his snake cane at the world. Time after time he'd escaped blame, no doubt bribing his freedom, and Sirius knew that he should hate him but he didn't.

Cool and collected as he was, Sirius knew the man was a complete hedonist, addicted to the intense lust they shared and just as much a slave to whatever it was they had as he was.

Eyes locked with Lucius, Sirius shut the door. He took a step closer to the other man, and Lucius began to unfasten his robe.

Sirius was dressed in Muggle clothes, and he shrugged off his leather jacket as he watched Lucius.

Now the blond was shaking back his magnificent hair so as to better unbutton his high-necked shirt. The shirt was pristinely white as always, contrasting sharply with the black velvety trousers it was tucked into. Lucius never looked less than elegant.

At least before they began.

Sirius ran a hand through his own hair, just as long as Lucius' but nothing alike. Sirius' jet-black hair fell haphazard and wavy over his shoulders, and Lucius' pale straight hair was always just so.

Until they began.

Then, their hair would entwine, sweat-damp and tangled, mirroring their bodies until platinum mixed with ebony on the pillow, starkly.

If there was a pillow.

Indeed, many times they didn't even make it to a bed, their urgent coupling too tempting to wait even another minute.

They hardly ever spoke, never discussing their differences or anything else.

Until it started.

Then, there were groans and moans and entreaties for more, one or the other begging, crying, screaming... it was the only time they ever called each other by their given names.

The tension in the room grew to epic proportions as they stripped, watching each other intently. Sirius as always reveled in watching Lucius' pale sleek body as it was revealed. Less muscled than his, skin porcelain perfect, the blond's body was a work of art he hungered to desecrate.

Finally, they were both naked, and the wait was too much. Striding across the room toward Lucius, Sirius pushed him against the wall and crushed their mouths together. Their bodies, hot and hard and desperate, lined up perfectly. Lucius moaned faintly into his mouth and opened to him, their tongues moving together as Sirius fucked Lucius' mouth.

Sirius had been shocked that, despite Lucius' commanding air of power, he was the submissive one in this relationship. Lucius had told him in a rare moment of candor that Sirius was one of the few men he'd ever let take him. Sirius had asked why, and the blond had just shrugged, saying he supposed it was the animal that lay within Sirius that he was responding to.

That thought always intoxicated him.

No matter the reason, Lucius always wanted Sirius to fuck him, the harder the better. Sirius was happy to comply; the powerful man begging to be fucked was impossible to resist. In fact, he felt like an animal when they were together; instinct, possession, sheer unadulterated lust was all that mattered.

So different from Remus, Sirius reflected in unguarded moments. Remus also wanted Sirius to take him, but he called it making love. Soft, slow, unhurried; his husband couldn't take the rough thrusts that Lucius begged for. Remus' monthly transformations left him weak much of the time, especially when Sirius couldn't get the Wolfsbane Potion for him.

He loved Remus, but he craved Lucius; so much so that he risked his marriage and perhaps even his life, trysting with a Dark Wizard.

It was time to stop thinking.

With a growl, Sirius took hold of Lucius' shoulders and spun him around, hard; no grace here, he kicked apart Lucius' legs with his foot quickly. Lucius moaned and bent over slightly, offering his ass to Sirius in a way that drove him mad.

Sometimes they transfigured a bed, but sometimes Sirius liked it this way, Lucius pinned against the wall, taking every thrust and begging for more. That was what he wanted now, and he hastily summoned the lubricant he'd left in his trousers.

Slicking his arousal liberally, Sirius grabbed a handful of Lucius' hair and told him to get ready.

Lucius did, spreading himself open for Sirius and shamelessly asking to be fucked. At first, Sirius had tried to prepare Lucius, but the blond would have none of it. He told Sirius in no uncertain terms to take him hard, unprepared, to make him scream from the sheer agony of being fucked.

So when Sirius drove his cock into Lucius, it was almost painful how the man's body gripped him, trying to keep him out. But he kept pushing, biting his lip against the agonizing tightness, Lucius pushing back against him for more.

Almost frantically, Sirius pumped into Lucius; they both needed, craved, demanded it this way, taking from the other something that no one else could give.

Hard and fast and graceless they coupled, Sirius' fingers digging into pale skin leaving bruises that surely Lucius charmed away later. Sometimes Lucius clawed his back, and several times Sirius had almost forgotten to heal himself before apparating home.

When Sirius was inside Lucius, nothing else mattered; blind need overcame any conscience that might have survived Azkaban. All that mattered was here, and now, and the tight hot pull of Lucius' body.

Blazing, his climax approached, and Sirius reached around to stroke and bring Lucius with him. Together they screamed their release, bodies as one, pleasure paramount.

Nothing else mattered.

Later, lying next to a sleeping Remus, Sirius sometimes felt guilt.

Or sometimes he dreamed of long blond hair and pale scarless skin and eyes that froze his soul.