capricornbookworm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
capricornbookworm) wrote2017-11-04 08:12 pm
capricornbookworm) wrote2017-11-04 08:12 pm
FIC: Love Gone Wrong [Draco Malfoy/Albus Severus, NC-17]
Title: Love Gone Wrong
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,800
Summary:The door opened and Draco was greeted, not by Potter, but instead by Potter’s youngest son.
It started on a Thursday.
Draco had tried contacting Potter six bloody times throughout the day, and he was fed up. He wasn’t the kind to pester people, but Draco had important information regarding the McCallister case. The muggle, who supposedly caught Mildretta McCallister charming her cat so it could float around her flat, was actually an undocumented muggle who already knew about the wizarding community. This was going to benefit Ms. McCallister, although action still needed to be taken. The hearing still needed to occur, just on different terms. Considering the fact that the hearing was scheduled promptly for 10:05 the following morning, Draco felt it was necessary to touch base with Potter immediately.
However, Potter couldn’t seem to be bothered with Draco today.
Six flying memos later, and Draco had not heard a single word from the bespectacled idiot.
So, here Draco was, outside the abysmally designed “Burrow” which looked only moments away from toppling over, trudging up the muddy pathway toward the door. Draco glanced down as he tried to step gingerly through the mud, scoffing at the state of his dragonhide boots. He had just sent these boots away for cleaning on Monday. Such a shame. The knee high boots made his legs look exceptionally long, and the color of the dragonhide was just a deep enough shade of green that it could only be differentiated from black in certain lights.
As he made it to the door, he tried to glance in through one of the odd shaped windows flanking the door on either side. The left one was partially obscured by a plant that seemed to have far overgrown it’s small mosaic pot. Surely it was a gift from Longbottom, as the thing seemed to be sprouting tiny Snitch-shaped flowers.
Draco shifted and tried to peer through the window on the right. The window was smudged with fingerprints, probably from one of Potter’s rowdy children. Draco squinted, his keen eyes catching a glimpse of messy black hair peeking over the top of a lumpy maroon couch.
Aha!
Caught him.
Draco smirked to himself, straightening his robes and brushing a stray blonde hair out of his face as he rapped his knuckles against the old wooden door.
Draco tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his lean arms over his chest and putting on his best possible look of disgust, ready to give Potter a piece of his mind.
What Draco saw when the door swung open made him quite thankful that no one had any piece of his mind.
The door opened and Draco was greeted, not by Potter, but instead by Potter’s youngest son.
Potter’s youngest son who was standing in the doorway wearing absolutely nothing but a long dark green sweater with a large silver “A” embroidered on the front.
Draco sucked in a breath. He felt as though every inch of skin he saw, as his eyes ran over the boy, only further tightened the hand around his throat. Draco’s dark gray trousers also seemed to grow tighter as his eyes traveled south.
His gaze slid down from the freckles decorating Albus’ tanned face, to the way the oversized sweater was hanging off of the boy’s right shoulder, revealing a jutting collarbone and long neck. The sweater covered the remainder of Albus’ chest, but it just barely skimmed the top of his lightly muscled thighs. Draco knew without needing to see a rear view that the sweater likely grazed the sensitive skin just under the boy’s arse, leaving very little to the imagination.
Draco’s own imagination was currently running wild in a way that it hadn’t done since he was a teenager.
Silver eyes reached a pair of slim ankles and bare feet before they shot back up. Silver met a brilliant green. Draco couldn’t help but notice how the green seemed to grow darker the longer they locked eyes, emerald green bleeding into a color so reminiscent of Draco’s special dragonhide that it made his breath stumble out over his lips.
At the sound of Draco’s stuttering breath, Albus blinked rapidly and seemed to wake up from a daze. He let his own eyes travel over the taller man’s body.
Draco shivered, the boy’s gaze feeling like hands running delicately over his skin. The touch was featherlight, but teasing enough to make him grow even harder.
Albus’ eyes met Draco’s before glancing back down once more, pointedly staring at the obvious bulge in Draco’s trousers.
Albus seemed to have made up his mind about something, turning his back to Draco and sauntering over towards the living area, the swing of his small hips hiking the sweater up just far enough that Draco could see the boy was not wearing anything underneath.
Draco licked his lips, his mouth watering at the sight before him. His mind was so clouded with arousal that he didn’t even close the front door behind him. He just followed the young Potter boy over towards the sea of mismatched couches and armchairs, and didn’t look back.
Albus stopped in front of a large armchair. It was a deep purple and made of velvet. There were small tufts decorating the seat and back of the chair.
Draco didn’t need to be asked, he simply unclasped his outer robe, throwing it carelessly over the arm of the maroon couch he had seen earlier. Draco then lowered himself into the armchair and watched with bated breath as Potter’s son climbed up onto the chair with ease. Two bare legs settled on either side of Draco’s fully clothed ones, the knobbly knees tucking neatly on either side of his thighs. Draco felt the boy settle weight back onto his legs.
Albus ran his fingers over the hem of his green sweater, pulling it down a bit so as not to expose himself. Not quite yet at least. The reality of the situation seemed to have stolen the boldness he had a few seconds before.
A moment passed where Albus readjusted his position on Draco’s lap, but the movement unintentionally gave the teenager a dose of much needed friction and suddenly his plush lips parted in a gasp.
Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely consumed with the young man in his lap. He watched as Albus began to grind his hips into the space just below Draco’s own length. The head of messy black hair was tilted back, neck stretched taut, mouth open, while the large sweater was falling further down a skinny shoulder.
Albus let out a whine and suddenly Draco couldn’t take it anymore.
“C’mere,” Draco’s voice sounded off in his own ears. It was like hearing someone talk in a distant place. His words came across as faint, rough, and far more desperate than he intended. This all felt so out of Draco’s control.
Bare legs shuffled forward further until the tanned knees were touching the back of the armchair. In the process of shuffling, the handmade sweater had ridden up, just the head of Albus’ cock peeking out from under the knitted material.
Draco wet his lips and moved his hand toward the swollen head, hesitating before making any further movement.
Silver eyes met a green so dark they were nearly black. Draco’s eyes searched the boy’s face, not about to touch him if he didn’t want it. Draco needn’t hesitate. The boy nodded frantically when the older man paused for consent.
Draco ran one long finger over the head of Albus’ cock, petting it gently, and getting rewarded with a litany of delicious noises from the boy seated in his lap.
While one pale hand continued it’s gentle assault on the head of the young man’s cock, Draco’s other hand reached forward to push up the sweater a bit. The rest of the Albus’ cock was revealed, along with a light smattering of black hair that decorated the base. As he held the shirt out of the way, Draco stroked his thumb over the sensitive skin of the boy’s lower belly.
The teasing seemed to be getting too much for Albus.
Albus began to try and rut his hips forward, attempting to push his hard cock more fully into Draco’s grip, seeking out a sensation Draco was holding back from him.
Although Draco loved the way the boy looked as he rolled his hips forward, the older man intended to get Albus off on his own terms.
Draco swallowed roughly before speaking, “Stop moving if you want me to continue touching you.”
Albus quivered to a halt, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead and bare shoulder. Drops of sweat glistened as they rolled gently down the column of Albus’ throat, and Draco suddenly had the absurd urge to lean forward and catch the drops with his tongue.
It took significant effort, but Albus stopped searching for friction.
Draco hesitated before returning to his task. If any part of his resolve had built back up again, if any part of him began to question what exactly he was doing... the word that soon tumbled out over Albus’ lips all but crushed Draco’s resolve into a fine powder.
The boy’s breathing was broken as he reached out with trembling hands to steady himself on Draco’s chest, “P-please.”
Draco bit back a groan, and reached forward to circle his long fingers around Albus’ cock. It had been a while, and Draco forgot how much he loved the feel of someone else in his hand. He loved the weight of it, the silky skin of the cockhead, the feel of the precum as he teased the slit.
There was something about this boy in particular though.
There was something about the way his nose scrunched up and his eyelids fluttered when Draco’s movements felt especially good. Something about the way his fingers clenched onto the front of Draco’s pressed white shirt, wrinkling it ever so terribly. Something about the naked want in his beautiful eyes...Something about how responsive and obedient the young man was.
All of these things made Draco wonder how they ever would be able to act normal around one another again. Being that Albus was Potter’s son, he often attended Ministry events with the rest of the Potter clan. Draco suddenly couldn't decide if this fact horrified or delighted him. This...whatever this was… it would have to be a one time thing. Yet, if Albus wanted to do this again, and if they were already attending the same event…
No.
He couldn’t.
This was wrong.
He could enjoy it this one time, but then it had to end.
The older man shook his head a little, eyes refocusing only to notice that Albus seemed to be getting closer to the edge. Draco’s hand had not stopped moving during the his brief period of lapse attention.
Draco berated himself for overthinking everything, disappointed that he had missed even a moment of the boy’s reactions to being pleasured.
As Draco’s attention refocused fully onto the boy in front of him, Albus began to shake in earnest. The fingers already clenched into Draco’s dress shirt tightened their hold, and Albus gasped for breath when Draco twisted his wrist just slightly to the left on an upstroke.
Unable to help himself, Draco repeated the motion and watched as the boy’s face scrunched up, body collapsing forward until his sweaty forehead rested against Draco’s own.
Suddenly they were breathing the same air. The sensation somehow felt even more intimate than kissing, and Draco couldn’t help but reach up one of his hands to brush his thumb over Albus’ dark eyebrows. Draco’s movement seemed to loosen a thread of tension, and the boy’s body suddenly curled in even further toward the older man. Albus pushed his hips forward just once, a single push reminding Draco that he had a teenager sitting in his lap, and in particular, a teenager who had likely never had anyone touch him like this before.
Draco sped up the hand that was still on the boy’s cock, and brought his other hand around to slide up under the hem of the oversized sweater, gently caressing the skin of Albus’ arse.
Albus panted into Draco’s cheek, his warm breath filling in the small space remaining between them. As Draco tried to remember to breathe himself, he took in a deep breath and swore he could feel the warm breath from the young man filling his own lungs. Draco felt warm.
He felt oddly whole.
Draco continued his movements, spurred on by the small whines and moans he was drawing from the boy with each twist of his wrist.
Albus crowded impossibly closer to older man, breathing heavily and sliding his hands up to Draco’s shoulders for better purchase.
Draco hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until he blinked them open. All he could see was long, dark eyelashes, the freckles that danced across Albus’ slim nose, and an absolutely delectable mouth.
For many years, Draco had always maintained a rule against kissing. He didn’t believe in it. Sex was purposeful. Sex made sense in Draco’s mind. Sex had an end goal which could be reached in a vast number of ways. On the other hand, kissing lacked a goal. It lacked a purpose. Draco had simply never seen the use for it.
Yet, everything about this boy sitting in Draco’s lap was rearranging his priorities and making him question what he really believed.
As Draco tightened his grip on Albus’ cock and stroked his thumb gently over the head in order to collect the precum there, he suddenly felt himself stretching up to reach the boy’s lips.
For a moment, time seemed to slow down. Draco had a sea of thoughts, questions, and concerns spinning in circles in his head, but even as their lips brushed faintly together, the racing thoughts seemed to stop. Temporarily immobilized. Draco was able to pay attention to nothing but the boy sitting in his lap.
In this odd state of limbo, every sensation felt heightened. Every brush of lips felt like a spark from a match.
After a few moments of simply brushing their lips against one another, Albus grew bold. He clumsily licked his lips before kissing Draco more firmly on the mouth. The instant their lips began to move so silkily together, Draco forgot all reasoning against kissing and suddenly couldn’t get enough of the boy’s mouth.
Their kisses became deeper, each of them opening up to the other. Draco had certainly kissed people before, but it had been years. It wouldn’t surprise Draco if Albus had barely kissed anyone at all. The two of them spent their time exploring, letting the other explore, and simply testing their limits.
Kissing this young man was doing strange things to Draco. He felt addicted. He felt drunk on these sensations. He didn’t want this to end, yet he so desperately needed to see what Albus looked like when he came.
Albus was clearly enjoying everything so far, but Draco wanted to make it even better. It required something from the boy though. So, he paused his ministrations, and felt Albus whine into his mouth, pulling back to stare with a puzzled look at the older man.
Draco simply reached a hand up, holding out his fingers to the boy’s mouth. Albus’ dark green eyes widened for a moment before he took a shaky breath and opened his mouth, allowing Draco to place his fingers inside. Albus closed his eyes, licking around the older man’s fingers and causing a cascade of fire to pool deep in Draco’s stomach at both the sight and the sensation.
When his fingers were thoroughly wet with the boy’s own saliva, Draco reached down and curled the fingers back around Albus’ cock slowly, one by one.
Albus keened and bit his lower lip, pulling the plump flesh into his mouth. As Draco began to drag his hand up and down the shaft once more, the younger man’s mouth opened with the force of a gasping breath. His lips were swollen and red, from both the kissing and biting.
He looked-
Well, he looked like nothing Draco had ever seen.
The slickness seemed to be just what the boy needed and Albus started making noises uncontrollably. His face displayed a constant stream of emotions. His body showed the visible signs of being on the verge of an orgasm.
Draco kept up his efforts, determined to see the boy through to the end. Determined to make it good for him.
The two of them began to kiss once again. The combination of the kissing and the slick hand moving over his cock, caused Albus to feel like he was about to explode with pleasure.
Draco only doubled his efforts as he watched Albus begin to fall apart. He put everything he had into the kiss, he twisted his hand just slightly to the left, and he used his free hand to roam all over the boy’s body.
“Fuck.”
Albus tucked his head into the crook of Draco’s neck as he came. He cried out, thighs trembling as they clenched around Draco’s slim hips.
Draco muttered a wordless spell, cleaning up the come and then sort of resting his chin atop of the head of messy black hair. The younger boy nuzzled a little bit into the older man’s neck and Draco felt himself reaching out to rest his hands on Albus’ thighs.
They both looked up in surprise as a ticking sound broke them out of their reverie. Glancing over at the wizarding clock that hung on a wall in the kitchen, they could see that the hand for “Harry Potter” had shifted onto “Traveling.”
Albus gasped in alarm, eyes widening as he frantically glanced around the room.
Draco watched as the boy’s eyes darted in a hundred directions, seeming to be searching for an escape route.
An engine could be heard outside the house and they they both felt paralyzed for a moment. Though Harry was a fully capable wizard, he had come to enjoy driving muggle vehicles, so he would ride in the flying car Mr. Weasley had gifted him as a wedding present, and then drive on the roads once he got close enough to home.
Although Draco was sitting there thinking about how he didn’t want the boy to leave his lap, the sound of a door slamming shut brought the older man to his senses. He patted Albus’ hip twice, waiting for the boy to scramble out of his lap before he got up himself. Draco reached over and began to put his robe back on. Before he could finish, a pair of nimble fingers came into his line of vision and neatly re-did the clasp on his robes. The clasp was a pair of silver dragon heads, complete with two small emeralds for the eyes.
Albus ran his fingers over the dragons and then looked up at Draco. As both of them opened their mouths to say something, they heard the unmistakable sound of feet stepping through mud.
Draco gained awareness enough to realize that he needed to leave the house as soon as possible. He looked down into Albus’ eyes. His mind prepared him the phrase, “We cannot do this again.”
Yet, as Draco looked down at the boy, he found himself asking a question instead.
“Next Thursday?”
Albus looked surprised, but nodded quickly.
Suddenly, a voice Draco knew all too well was coming from just outside the house, and Draco launched into instinct. He turned to pick up a ceramic bowl that was resting on a coffee table in the middle of the seating area, gave Albus a final once-over, and then dropped the bowl onto the ground as he Disapparated out of the Burrow.
****
The sound of something smashing greeted Harry as he entered into his house. He found Albus standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the pile of broken ceramic pieces with a small smile on his face.
“Erm… is there any particular reason you decided to smash the bowl that your mother made?”
Albus appeared a little flustered for a moment before he looked up at Harry and said, “Oh, I didn’t break it purposefully. I just knocked into it… erm… when I thought my owl had arrived.”
Harry looked confused. He dropped his briefcase onto the kitchen table and unraveled his scarf as he cocked his head to the side, looking inquisitively at his youngest son, “Didn’t you loan Chutney to James so that he could have an owl to use while he was visiting Charlie?”
“Ah… right you are, Dad! I completely forgot...I should probably go write him a letter or something… You know, to see how he’s doing,” Albus stated awkwardly, trying to move away from Harry and towards the staircase. As he stepped backwards, he tried to pull down his sweater, hoping that his father would be so distracted by his ridiculous lie that that he wouldn’t even notice his son’s outfit.
Before Albus could make it much further, his father looked over at the front door suspiciously and made a strange noise. Considering his reputation in the wizarding world, he was actually rather clueless a lot of the time, but this time he didn’t miss anything, “Albus, might I ask why the front door was wide open….in the middle of December?”
Albus blanked for a moment, entirely unsure of how to explain that.
“...It was stuffy in here?” the young man provided hesitantly.
Harry just sort of shrugged his shoulders and resumed unpacking messy stacks of papers from his briefcase.
When Albus finally reached the stairs, Harry spoke once more.
“Oh, and Al?”
Albus paused, “Yes?”
“I know you hate attending those Ministry events, but there’s a Christmas reception coming up this Saturday and I’m supposed to bring at least one family member with me. Your mother can’t make it because there’s a Quidditch match she has to referee that evening. James is out of the country, and Lily is attending a party that night… So, will you help me out?”
Albus glanced down for a moment, coughing a little and trying to hide the smile forming on his lips.
“Yeah, I suppose so….Do you think we could get something new for me to wear to the party? I mean, I know I was your last resort anyways, but you could at least try to bribe me.”
Harry laughed and agreed.
As Albus headed up the staircase and out of his father’s line of sight, he let a full grin spread over his face.
Looks like he won’t even need to wait until next Thursday.
****
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,800
Summary:The door opened and Draco was greeted, not by Potter, but instead by Potter’s youngest son.
It started on a Thursday.
Draco had tried contacting Potter six bloody times throughout the day, and he was fed up. He wasn’t the kind to pester people, but Draco had important information regarding the McCallister case. The muggle, who supposedly caught Mildretta McCallister charming her cat so it could float around her flat, was actually an undocumented muggle who already knew about the wizarding community. This was going to benefit Ms. McCallister, although action still needed to be taken. The hearing still needed to occur, just on different terms. Considering the fact that the hearing was scheduled promptly for 10:05 the following morning, Draco felt it was necessary to touch base with Potter immediately.
However, Potter couldn’t seem to be bothered with Draco today.
Six flying memos later, and Draco had not heard a single word from the bespectacled idiot.
So, here Draco was, outside the abysmally designed “Burrow” which looked only moments away from toppling over, trudging up the muddy pathway toward the door. Draco glanced down as he tried to step gingerly through the mud, scoffing at the state of his dragonhide boots. He had just sent these boots away for cleaning on Monday. Such a shame. The knee high boots made his legs look exceptionally long, and the color of the dragonhide was just a deep enough shade of green that it could only be differentiated from black in certain lights.
As he made it to the door, he tried to glance in through one of the odd shaped windows flanking the door on either side. The left one was partially obscured by a plant that seemed to have far overgrown it’s small mosaic pot. Surely it was a gift from Longbottom, as the thing seemed to be sprouting tiny Snitch-shaped flowers.
Draco shifted and tried to peer through the window on the right. The window was smudged with fingerprints, probably from one of Potter’s rowdy children. Draco squinted, his keen eyes catching a glimpse of messy black hair peeking over the top of a lumpy maroon couch.
Aha!
Caught him.
Draco smirked to himself, straightening his robes and brushing a stray blonde hair out of his face as he rapped his knuckles against the old wooden door.
Draco tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his lean arms over his chest and putting on his best possible look of disgust, ready to give Potter a piece of his mind.
What Draco saw when the door swung open made him quite thankful that no one had any piece of his mind.
The door opened and Draco was greeted, not by Potter, but instead by Potter’s youngest son.
Potter’s youngest son who was standing in the doorway wearing absolutely nothing but a long dark green sweater with a large silver “A” embroidered on the front.
Draco sucked in a breath. He felt as though every inch of skin he saw, as his eyes ran over the boy, only further tightened the hand around his throat. Draco’s dark gray trousers also seemed to grow tighter as his eyes traveled south.
His gaze slid down from the freckles decorating Albus’ tanned face, to the way the oversized sweater was hanging off of the boy’s right shoulder, revealing a jutting collarbone and long neck. The sweater covered the remainder of Albus’ chest, but it just barely skimmed the top of his lightly muscled thighs. Draco knew without needing to see a rear view that the sweater likely grazed the sensitive skin just under the boy’s arse, leaving very little to the imagination.
Draco’s own imagination was currently running wild in a way that it hadn’t done since he was a teenager.
Silver eyes reached a pair of slim ankles and bare feet before they shot back up. Silver met a brilliant green. Draco couldn’t help but notice how the green seemed to grow darker the longer they locked eyes, emerald green bleeding into a color so reminiscent of Draco’s special dragonhide that it made his breath stumble out over his lips.
At the sound of Draco’s stuttering breath, Albus blinked rapidly and seemed to wake up from a daze. He let his own eyes travel over the taller man’s body.
Draco shivered, the boy’s gaze feeling like hands running delicately over his skin. The touch was featherlight, but teasing enough to make him grow even harder.
Albus’ eyes met Draco’s before glancing back down once more, pointedly staring at the obvious bulge in Draco’s trousers.
Albus seemed to have made up his mind about something, turning his back to Draco and sauntering over towards the living area, the swing of his small hips hiking the sweater up just far enough that Draco could see the boy was not wearing anything underneath.
Draco licked his lips, his mouth watering at the sight before him. His mind was so clouded with arousal that he didn’t even close the front door behind him. He just followed the young Potter boy over towards the sea of mismatched couches and armchairs, and didn’t look back.
Albus stopped in front of a large armchair. It was a deep purple and made of velvet. There were small tufts decorating the seat and back of the chair.
Draco didn’t need to be asked, he simply unclasped his outer robe, throwing it carelessly over the arm of the maroon couch he had seen earlier. Draco then lowered himself into the armchair and watched with bated breath as Potter’s son climbed up onto the chair with ease. Two bare legs settled on either side of Draco’s fully clothed ones, the knobbly knees tucking neatly on either side of his thighs. Draco felt the boy settle weight back onto his legs.
Albus ran his fingers over the hem of his green sweater, pulling it down a bit so as not to expose himself. Not quite yet at least. The reality of the situation seemed to have stolen the boldness he had a few seconds before.
A moment passed where Albus readjusted his position on Draco’s lap, but the movement unintentionally gave the teenager a dose of much needed friction and suddenly his plush lips parted in a gasp.
Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely consumed with the young man in his lap. He watched as Albus began to grind his hips into the space just below Draco’s own length. The head of messy black hair was tilted back, neck stretched taut, mouth open, while the large sweater was falling further down a skinny shoulder.
Albus let out a whine and suddenly Draco couldn’t take it anymore.
“C’mere,” Draco’s voice sounded off in his own ears. It was like hearing someone talk in a distant place. His words came across as faint, rough, and far more desperate than he intended. This all felt so out of Draco’s control.
Bare legs shuffled forward further until the tanned knees were touching the back of the armchair. In the process of shuffling, the handmade sweater had ridden up, just the head of Albus’ cock peeking out from under the knitted material.
Draco wet his lips and moved his hand toward the swollen head, hesitating before making any further movement.
Silver eyes met a green so dark they were nearly black. Draco’s eyes searched the boy’s face, not about to touch him if he didn’t want it. Draco needn’t hesitate. The boy nodded frantically when the older man paused for consent.
Draco ran one long finger over the head of Albus’ cock, petting it gently, and getting rewarded with a litany of delicious noises from the boy seated in his lap.
While one pale hand continued it’s gentle assault on the head of the young man’s cock, Draco’s other hand reached forward to push up the sweater a bit. The rest of the Albus’ cock was revealed, along with a light smattering of black hair that decorated the base. As he held the shirt out of the way, Draco stroked his thumb over the sensitive skin of the boy’s lower belly.
The teasing seemed to be getting too much for Albus.
Albus began to try and rut his hips forward, attempting to push his hard cock more fully into Draco’s grip, seeking out a sensation Draco was holding back from him.
Although Draco loved the way the boy looked as he rolled his hips forward, the older man intended to get Albus off on his own terms.
Draco swallowed roughly before speaking, “Stop moving if you want me to continue touching you.”
Albus quivered to a halt, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead and bare shoulder. Drops of sweat glistened as they rolled gently down the column of Albus’ throat, and Draco suddenly had the absurd urge to lean forward and catch the drops with his tongue.
It took significant effort, but Albus stopped searching for friction.
Draco hesitated before returning to his task. If any part of his resolve had built back up again, if any part of him began to question what exactly he was doing... the word that soon tumbled out over Albus’ lips all but crushed Draco’s resolve into a fine powder.
The boy’s breathing was broken as he reached out with trembling hands to steady himself on Draco’s chest, “P-please.”
Draco bit back a groan, and reached forward to circle his long fingers around Albus’ cock. It had been a while, and Draco forgot how much he loved the feel of someone else in his hand. He loved the weight of it, the silky skin of the cockhead, the feel of the precum as he teased the slit.
There was something about this boy in particular though.
There was something about the way his nose scrunched up and his eyelids fluttered when Draco’s movements felt especially good. Something about the way his fingers clenched onto the front of Draco’s pressed white shirt, wrinkling it ever so terribly. Something about the naked want in his beautiful eyes...Something about how responsive and obedient the young man was.
All of these things made Draco wonder how they ever would be able to act normal around one another again. Being that Albus was Potter’s son, he often attended Ministry events with the rest of the Potter clan. Draco suddenly couldn't decide if this fact horrified or delighted him. This...whatever this was… it would have to be a one time thing. Yet, if Albus wanted to do this again, and if they were already attending the same event…
No.
He couldn’t.
This was wrong.
He could enjoy it this one time, but then it had to end.
The older man shook his head a little, eyes refocusing only to notice that Albus seemed to be getting closer to the edge. Draco’s hand had not stopped moving during the his brief period of lapse attention.
Draco berated himself for overthinking everything, disappointed that he had missed even a moment of the boy’s reactions to being pleasured.
As Draco’s attention refocused fully onto the boy in front of him, Albus began to shake in earnest. The fingers already clenched into Draco’s dress shirt tightened their hold, and Albus gasped for breath when Draco twisted his wrist just slightly to the left on an upstroke.
Unable to help himself, Draco repeated the motion and watched as the boy’s face scrunched up, body collapsing forward until his sweaty forehead rested against Draco’s own.
Suddenly they were breathing the same air. The sensation somehow felt even more intimate than kissing, and Draco couldn’t help but reach up one of his hands to brush his thumb over Albus’ dark eyebrows. Draco’s movement seemed to loosen a thread of tension, and the boy’s body suddenly curled in even further toward the older man. Albus pushed his hips forward just once, a single push reminding Draco that he had a teenager sitting in his lap, and in particular, a teenager who had likely never had anyone touch him like this before.
Draco sped up the hand that was still on the boy’s cock, and brought his other hand around to slide up under the hem of the oversized sweater, gently caressing the skin of Albus’ arse.
Albus panted into Draco’s cheek, his warm breath filling in the small space remaining between them. As Draco tried to remember to breathe himself, he took in a deep breath and swore he could feel the warm breath from the young man filling his own lungs. Draco felt warm.
He felt oddly whole.
Draco continued his movements, spurred on by the small whines and moans he was drawing from the boy with each twist of his wrist.
Albus crowded impossibly closer to older man, breathing heavily and sliding his hands up to Draco’s shoulders for better purchase.
Draco hadn’t realized his eyes were closed until he blinked them open. All he could see was long, dark eyelashes, the freckles that danced across Albus’ slim nose, and an absolutely delectable mouth.
For many years, Draco had always maintained a rule against kissing. He didn’t believe in it. Sex was purposeful. Sex made sense in Draco’s mind. Sex had an end goal which could be reached in a vast number of ways. On the other hand, kissing lacked a goal. It lacked a purpose. Draco had simply never seen the use for it.
Yet, everything about this boy sitting in Draco’s lap was rearranging his priorities and making him question what he really believed.
As Draco tightened his grip on Albus’ cock and stroked his thumb gently over the head in order to collect the precum there, he suddenly felt himself stretching up to reach the boy’s lips.
For a moment, time seemed to slow down. Draco had a sea of thoughts, questions, and concerns spinning in circles in his head, but even as their lips brushed faintly together, the racing thoughts seemed to stop. Temporarily immobilized. Draco was able to pay attention to nothing but the boy sitting in his lap.
In this odd state of limbo, every sensation felt heightened. Every brush of lips felt like a spark from a match.
After a few moments of simply brushing their lips against one another, Albus grew bold. He clumsily licked his lips before kissing Draco more firmly on the mouth. The instant their lips began to move so silkily together, Draco forgot all reasoning against kissing and suddenly couldn’t get enough of the boy’s mouth.
Their kisses became deeper, each of them opening up to the other. Draco had certainly kissed people before, but it had been years. It wouldn’t surprise Draco if Albus had barely kissed anyone at all. The two of them spent their time exploring, letting the other explore, and simply testing their limits.
Kissing this young man was doing strange things to Draco. He felt addicted. He felt drunk on these sensations. He didn’t want this to end, yet he so desperately needed to see what Albus looked like when he came.
Albus was clearly enjoying everything so far, but Draco wanted to make it even better. It required something from the boy though. So, he paused his ministrations, and felt Albus whine into his mouth, pulling back to stare with a puzzled look at the older man.
Draco simply reached a hand up, holding out his fingers to the boy’s mouth. Albus’ dark green eyes widened for a moment before he took a shaky breath and opened his mouth, allowing Draco to place his fingers inside. Albus closed his eyes, licking around the older man’s fingers and causing a cascade of fire to pool deep in Draco’s stomach at both the sight and the sensation.
When his fingers were thoroughly wet with the boy’s own saliva, Draco reached down and curled the fingers back around Albus’ cock slowly, one by one.
Albus keened and bit his lower lip, pulling the plump flesh into his mouth. As Draco began to drag his hand up and down the shaft once more, the younger man’s mouth opened with the force of a gasping breath. His lips were swollen and red, from both the kissing and biting.
He looked-
Well, he looked like nothing Draco had ever seen.
The slickness seemed to be just what the boy needed and Albus started making noises uncontrollably. His face displayed a constant stream of emotions. His body showed the visible signs of being on the verge of an orgasm.
Draco kept up his efforts, determined to see the boy through to the end. Determined to make it good for him.
The two of them began to kiss once again. The combination of the kissing and the slick hand moving over his cock, caused Albus to feel like he was about to explode with pleasure.
Draco only doubled his efforts as he watched Albus begin to fall apart. He put everything he had into the kiss, he twisted his hand just slightly to the left, and he used his free hand to roam all over the boy’s body.
“Fuck.”
Albus tucked his head into the crook of Draco’s neck as he came. He cried out, thighs trembling as they clenched around Draco’s slim hips.
Draco muttered a wordless spell, cleaning up the come and then sort of resting his chin atop of the head of messy black hair. The younger boy nuzzled a little bit into the older man’s neck and Draco felt himself reaching out to rest his hands on Albus’ thighs.
They both looked up in surprise as a ticking sound broke them out of their reverie. Glancing over at the wizarding clock that hung on a wall in the kitchen, they could see that the hand for “Harry Potter” had shifted onto “Traveling.”
Albus gasped in alarm, eyes widening as he frantically glanced around the room.
Draco watched as the boy’s eyes darted in a hundred directions, seeming to be searching for an escape route.
An engine could be heard outside the house and they they both felt paralyzed for a moment. Though Harry was a fully capable wizard, he had come to enjoy driving muggle vehicles, so he would ride in the flying car Mr. Weasley had gifted him as a wedding present, and then drive on the roads once he got close enough to home.
Although Draco was sitting there thinking about how he didn’t want the boy to leave his lap, the sound of a door slamming shut brought the older man to his senses. He patted Albus’ hip twice, waiting for the boy to scramble out of his lap before he got up himself. Draco reached over and began to put his robe back on. Before he could finish, a pair of nimble fingers came into his line of vision and neatly re-did the clasp on his robes. The clasp was a pair of silver dragon heads, complete with two small emeralds for the eyes.
Albus ran his fingers over the dragons and then looked up at Draco. As both of them opened their mouths to say something, they heard the unmistakable sound of feet stepping through mud.
Draco gained awareness enough to realize that he needed to leave the house as soon as possible. He looked down into Albus’ eyes. His mind prepared him the phrase, “We cannot do this again.”
Yet, as Draco looked down at the boy, he found himself asking a question instead.
“Next Thursday?”
Albus looked surprised, but nodded quickly.
Suddenly, a voice Draco knew all too well was coming from just outside the house, and Draco launched into instinct. He turned to pick up a ceramic bowl that was resting on a coffee table in the middle of the seating area, gave Albus a final once-over, and then dropped the bowl onto the ground as he Disapparated out of the Burrow.
The sound of something smashing greeted Harry as he entered into his house. He found Albus standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the pile of broken ceramic pieces with a small smile on his face.
“Erm… is there any particular reason you decided to smash the bowl that your mother made?”
Albus appeared a little flustered for a moment before he looked up at Harry and said, “Oh, I didn’t break it purposefully. I just knocked into it… erm… when I thought my owl had arrived.”
Harry looked confused. He dropped his briefcase onto the kitchen table and unraveled his scarf as he cocked his head to the side, looking inquisitively at his youngest son, “Didn’t you loan Chutney to James so that he could have an owl to use while he was visiting Charlie?”
“Ah… right you are, Dad! I completely forgot...I should probably go write him a letter or something… You know, to see how he’s doing,” Albus stated awkwardly, trying to move away from Harry and towards the staircase. As he stepped backwards, he tried to pull down his sweater, hoping that his father would be so distracted by his ridiculous lie that that he wouldn’t even notice his son’s outfit.
Before Albus could make it much further, his father looked over at the front door suspiciously and made a strange noise. Considering his reputation in the wizarding world, he was actually rather clueless a lot of the time, but this time he didn’t miss anything, “Albus, might I ask why the front door was wide open….in the middle of December?”
Albus blanked for a moment, entirely unsure of how to explain that.
“...It was stuffy in here?” the young man provided hesitantly.
Harry just sort of shrugged his shoulders and resumed unpacking messy stacks of papers from his briefcase.
When Albus finally reached the stairs, Harry spoke once more.
“Oh, and Al?”
Albus paused, “Yes?”
“I know you hate attending those Ministry events, but there’s a Christmas reception coming up this Saturday and I’m supposed to bring at least one family member with me. Your mother can’t make it because there’s a Quidditch match she has to referee that evening. James is out of the country, and Lily is attending a party that night… So, will you help me out?”
Albus glanced down for a moment, coughing a little and trying to hide the smile forming on his lips.
“Yeah, I suppose so….Do you think we could get something new for me to wear to the party? I mean, I know I was your last resort anyways, but you could at least try to bribe me.”
Harry laughed and agreed.
As Albus headed up the staircase and out of his father’s line of sight, he let a full grin spread over his face.
Looks like he won’t even need to wait until next Thursday.