Title: We're Blacks, Darling
Author: Sapphire Smoke
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Narcissa/Bellatrix, Narcissa/Draco
Rating: M
Length: 742 words
Summary: Fucking each other is just what they do.
Warning: incest, unbeta'd

It was disgusting. It was mesmerizing. It was alluring. It was horrifying.

It angered him so; infuriated him as he watched the perfect picture of womanhood and beauty be treated like nothing more than a wanton slave. Draco's eyes burned black as he witnessed his mother degrading herself, humiliate herself, for that… that sick bitch. On her knees and bound, Narcissa looked up at her mistress as she greedily devoured her release like she was lucky to be worthy enough for a taste. The shame for her burned deep inside Draco, sickening him to the core, yet the crotch of his jeans tightened almost immediately.

She was so magnificent, so beautiful; a Queen amongst the unworthy. The dips in her hips and the curve of her breasts made his cock twitch in excitement to finally be able to see what he only dreamed of when he closed his eyes at night. But she was accompanied by her – the most vile creature on this earth – and it made Draco want to scream because he couldn't believe his mother would stoop so low as to find comfort in that psychotic whore.

He stepped away, not bearing to watch it any longer. He could hear the cackling of his aunt as she ordered his mother to spread her legs. Draco wanted to look, just for a moment, just to see what she looked like down there; he always imagined a blossoming flower. But it was her voice; her disgusting, unworthy voice that made him fall back, disappearing into the darkness, hoping that his mother's cries of ecstasy wouldn't be heard while in his bedroom.

"You fuck her."

Narcissa's eyes snapped up to meet his across the dining room table. His eyes are burning with hatred and jealousy, and it worsens when she barely even flinches at the accusation. Her face as poised as ever she merely tells him, "Don't use that word, Draco; it makes you sound uneducated."

She rises from the table, clearing away their plates. Draco resents her for not having shame, even when confronted by her own son. "You don't deny it?" he asked, angry and disbelieving. She glances over at him before setting the dirty dishes onto the counter.

"Lucius is gone," she tells him, like that's some kind of proper answer. It makes Draco's blood boil; not because she was unfaithful to his father – he was a useless man who never knew how to properly treat the magnificent creature that was his mother – but because when she needed someone she ran to her deranged sister for some twisted sense of comfort. She ran to her… instead of him.

"But she's disgusting!" Draco exclaimed fiercely, not understanding the appeal of Bellatrix in the slightest. He was silenced instantly with a slap however; leaving his cheek stinging and his eyes watering. His mother never took blatant disrespect lightly and the slap was sure to leave a mark upon his pale skin.

"She is your aunt!" Narcissa shouted, commanding unwavering obedience from her son. But Draco was no longer a child; he was the man of the house now and thus was allowed to voice his opinion, despite what his mother tried to instill in him.

"And she is your sister!" Draco responded with every intention of making her feel dirty and shameful for servicing her kin like some kind of cheap, incestuous prostitute. Not that he didn't understand the appeal from Bellatrix's point of view though, so he was likely being ridiculously hypocritical. But he didn't care: he was angry, jealous, and just wanted to lash out at his mother for choosing her over him; him who loved her unconditionally, him who would willingly treat her like a true Queen, him who would never humiliate her or abuse her.

To his astonishment, Narcissa lightly chuckled in amusement. "Do not pretend that you can't possibly understand, Draco. I've seen the worn photograph you keep in your pillowcase," she told him, a tone indicating she knew exactly what he did with the old photograph of his mother.

Draco flushed, both in anger and in embarrassment.

Narcissa took a step forward, leaning down to place an understanding kiss on the top of his head. "We're Blacks, darling," she told him softly, reminding him of his lineage. As she stepped away from him and began to walk out the door, her voice carried as she explained simply, "Fucking each other is what we do."

- FIN -