Title: The Dragon’s
Author: Kiarene
Pairings: Draco/Severus, of course
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7512
Warnings: Unbetaed… Entirely my fault because I was trying to rush this out by the dateline. Rushed ending. Sorry.

This story is for Anise, who said, "I would like: Post-Hogwarts, first-time, NC17, really want smut, but would like at least a bit of plot. No death story, but angst is fine, as long as there is a happy ending. No dark fic, no non-con. Oh, and rimming would be nice."

My sincere apologies to frogslayr, who had kindly agreed to beta for me. Sorry; I had thought the deadline to be later!

The Dragon’s

Severus resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently or fidget as he waited for his goods. It had been a very long day for him — a frustrating experience at the British customs because of post-war paranoia, a trans-Alantic floo that left him nauseous for the better part of an hour, and then another frustrating experience at the China customs because translation spells could never be as accurate as the real thing, and to cap it off, he took *ages* to find the shops that he wanted.

After the war, there was a dearth of many wizarding products in
Britain. Those whose trade were in charms and spell-casting were perhaps not as worse off, but Severus had the hardest time even procuring even the simplest potion ingredients! Finally, after much wrangling and bribing, he managed to obtain a permit to buy the supplies he required from Asia. Severus frowned, crossing his arms even more tightly. He may have been acknowledged as a war-hero and awarded an Order of Merlin — First Class, no less — but he was still treated with suspicion and dislike.

The return of the shopkeeper interrupted his dour thoughts. The round-faced Chinese wizard smiled happily at him as he emerged from the back of the shop, arms laden with the supplies he wanted. "It is most lucky for you that I carry the items you ask for. Many of these are very rare in
Asia because we don't use Western ingredients."

"Then how did you come by these?" Severus raised a bored brow and he picked up each glass jar, examining the contents closely for quality. He normally *wouldn't* trust just any supplier, but he was, admittedly, quite desperate at the moment. He just hoped that the possibly inferior ingredients wouldn't literally blow up in his face!

"New company. DragonCorp," the shopkeeper explained, laying out the jars and packages. Carefully, he opened each package to show the herbs, dried and neatly bound, before wrapping it up again. "They started off by selling us Western potions and ingredients."

"That is certainly ...innovative." Severus wondered where such a company got their supplies from.

"Yes. The boss is very young but very smart. And willing to work hard," the shopkeeper beamed. "He is also writing a book now, a simple book about Western potions for the Chinese wizard."

Perhaps he should look into that as a career, Severus mused. Writing potions texts. It certainly sounded much, much better than teaching ungrateful brats! He thought about it briefly — did he have any reason to rush back to Hogwarts?

Not really. In fact, why shouldn't he spend a few more days here? Enjoy himself in
Asia — it would certainly be a refreshing change. People gave him second looks here but there were usually glances of casual curiosity because he was a foreigner, and not stares of hostility or fear because of his background.

"Do you have an address for ...” Severus paused, reaching into a deep pocket to take out his purse. “DragonCorp?"

The shopkeeper bent down and rummaged under the counter for a while. Finally, he emerged holding a dark green namecard, edged in silver. "They have a small office nearby, just a few streets down."

Severus fingered the card, which was slightly dusty and herb-y smelling. The name "Dragon Corporation" was printed in flowing, silver script, both English and Chinese, and below, the address. A small stylized dragon writhed in the bottom right-hand corner and roared tinnily at him. "How shall I address the owner?"

"Dra-co Mal-foy," the shopkeeper pronounced the unfamiliar syllables carefully. Severus visibly started in shock.

"He is more commonly known as Jin Long, because Draco means dragon right? And long is dragon in Chinese." The shopkeeper smiled. "And he has the brightest hair, just like gold, or jin."

Oh. Well. Severus was *definitely* going to look up this owner of DragonCorp all right. "Thank you for your help," he said dazedly and pulled open the warded strings on his purse. "How much for everything?"

After a bit of haggling, he paid for the goods and arranged to have to sent back to Hogwarts. Severus soon found himself walking down the narrow streets with a sprightly spring to his step. Catching sight of himself in a reflective shop window, he paused to straighten his robes. After a moment's thought, he cast a few neatening and freshening spells on himself as well. He was a trifle dusty after all that traveling...

...and who was he fooling? He sighed and pocketed his wand with a slight flush of embarrassment. He *was* primping. And it was all because it was a certain blond Slytherin. A *gorgeous*, young wizard whom he had watched grow up over the years, and he would have to admit, the fondness he had for Draco wasn't all that platonic either!

But he was an old fool — Draco was too young, too good looking for him. Why would he even bother with a sour old wizard?

Severus scolded himself as he made his way down the narrow streets of Shenzhen's wizarding district. He found the office easily — it was located at the junction between two narrow lanes. The location was good; it faced a row of small eateries and was flanked by a bookshop and grocer. Many of the people eating at the tables that lined the pavement were young and Chinese, and Severus guessed that there was probably a school — or university, given the age of the students — nearby.

A musical chime announced his entry in the shop. A pretty young witch with lily-pale skin and dark almond eyes at the front desk looked him suspiciously, questioning him closely and subjecting him to a scrutiny spell, before finally waving him up the narrow stairs. For a moment, Severus felt a bite of jealousy before he pushed it down — Draco had been openly bisexual back in Hogwarts.

Severus knocked on the solid wooden door, noting the wards that lined the building and office with approval. When Draco had fled
England after refusing to join Voldemort, he had been worried that Draco would not know how to protect himself. But it seemed that the young Slytherin had been doing well for himself.

"Come in!"

Severus pushed open the door, a sudden tension in his belly at the sound of that clear tenor. Draco's voice had matured, slightly deeper and more confident, but the unmistakable cultured drawl was still there.

The blond was seated in a corner, facing the door, and scribbling away on a parchment. Tottering columns of books and parchments covered a generously-sized desk, and more books were stacked on the floor beside him as well.

"Meiyi, could you ask..." Draco trailed off when he looked up and caught sight of his visitor.

"Draco," Severus said, inclining his head in a nod. He looked around, tearing his eyes away reluctantly from the blond. A small window at the corner of the office overlooked the street below, and more small windows, placed above the height of the average wizard, provided ventilation to the high-ceilinged room. The room was cool and a bit dim, and with the thick stone walls and flagstone floor, it was very reminiscent of the dungeons back in Hogwarts, even down to the dark green rugs that covered the floor.

"Merlin..." Draco breathed, eyes and smile widening in delight. "Severus! What are you doing here?" He stood up and moved towards the couch and armchairs in front of the fireplace eagerly. "Have a seat."

"Buying potion supplies," Severus replied, resisting the urge to join Draco on the couch and seated himself on one of the armchairs instead. Draco was nattily dressed in a well-made and obviously dear black robes with small green dragon motifs. The silky material clung to his lithe frame and caught the light in rippling waves as he moved. Severus knew he was staring but was unable to tear his eyes away. "I see you've adapted quite well to the local customs. Have you been keeping up with the news in

Draco nodded. "War's over and
Britain's wizarding communities are still in chaos." He grinned. "Good for business though."

Severus gave a bark of laughter. "I never knew you had such acumen for business."

"I am a Slytherin," Draco said loftily. He drew out his wand and waved. A silver tray with cups of steaming tea and plates of biscuits appeared on the table between them. "And, I am a Malfoy. How do you think we got so rich?"

Severus raised a brow and settled back comfortably. "Truthfully? I've always thought the Malfoys were old money. I knew you own a lot of land." He smirked. "I've never actually seen Lucius manage money."

"Oh, trust me. Father had a very shrewd head for business too. It runs in the family. But appearances are important and he'd rather he be known first as 'old money' than a businessman. That's so... plebeian." Draco grimaced and picked up a cup, taking a dainty sip.

"And what you're doing now...?" Severus asked pointedly.

Draco snorted. "I’d rather be not working my arse off like this. But when I left
England, I didn't have access to the Malfoy vaults, only my personal account—"

"—which could probably pay for Hogwarts' upkeep for a year or two, including all our salaries," Severus added dryly.

"Exactly. It's pittance!" Draco whined, oblivious to that bit of sarcasm.

Severus bit back his retort. Yet, while such careless wealth would usually irritate him, it was oddly amusing, even endearing, when flaunted by Draco. He remembered Draco's first night at Hogwarts: the boy had came banging on the door to his personal quarters, complaining that the standard issue cotton sheets provided by Hogwarts were too rough on his delicate skin. If it was any other student, Severus would have chewed them out and then sent them for detention for disturbing him with such trivialities. To his own surprise, he found Draco's pout rather ...cute. He had listened to Draco's whining, placated him with a chocolate frog — confiscated from a Hufflepuff first-year just a few hours earlier — and advised him to write to his mother for sheets of a higher threadcount.

Severus mentally shook his head. From that incident onwards, he *knew* he had a weak spot for the spoilt brat. And yet, he admitted to himself, he enjoyed it. Malfoys, with their angelically-pale looks, were *born* to be spoilt and coddled. He had done so for Lucius throughout school and was well-trained by the time Draco started school. A flutter of those pale lashes, a slight widening of those blue-gray eyes, a downward turn and tremble of those shell-pink lips, and Severus was lost.

"But I managed," Draco continued brightly. "I invested half of my money. I bought potion ingredients from Jiggler's and re-sold them here at two times what I paid for because they are not found in this part of the world."

Severus almost choked on his tea. "Two times!" He cleared his throat. "Who would buy?"

"It’s all a matter of demand and supply, and right now, there *is* quite a demand. Mainly, it’s the European wizards and witches who had moved here, but I do get quite a fair bit of business from the potion researchers at the Chinese University Nanjing. That's why when I decided it was time to set up a proper office, I chose this location; the university's just down the road." Draco smirked. "I know all of them well and I give them special rates. In return, they've been teaching me about Chinese potions."

Severus eyed his former pupil enviously and sipped his tea as a cover. “Would you ever go back to

“Maybe. Perhaps when I feel that being viewed as a respectable member of the community is boring,” Draco replied flippantly but his fingers tightened briefly on his tea cup. “What about you?”

“What *about* me?”

"Why don't you?" Draco placed his empty cup down. He leaned back and crossed his legs, still smirking. "Stay here that is. War's over — why do you have to stay on at Hogwarts? You can stay with me; that isn't a problem. You can indulge in your research; there’s no pesky brats to teach… Or you can help me write this text…" He waved at the mess of parchments and books on his desk with a grimace.

Severus wondered if he was so transparent. Wasn't he supposed to be a top-notch double spy? He was so, so tempted. And how could he simply drop everything? Yet...

He took another sip of the tea — a delicate jasmine blend, and another sweet flower he couldn't identify readily. *That* unknown taste decided it for him, oddly enough. He prided himself on knowing every useful — and some not so useful — herb and plant in
England, as well as the commonly imported varieties. And to have this unknown ...herb? ..in something he was ingesting rankled at his professional pride.

"Why not? Maybe for a while..." Severus mused. Surprisingly, it was easy to think about leaving. He supposed it was because he didn't have very much of a life back in
England anyway. "But I cannot stay with you—"

"Yes you can," Draco injected firmly. "None of that stiff-necked pride, Severus. I can very well afford it and my house is too big anyway." He gave his most charming smile. "And I want you to."

"How can I resist such a gracious invitation?" Severus said teasingly, lightly. His stomach was coiled in tension, but not of the unpleasant sort. Staying with Draco... would present a host of different problems. Like keeping his hands off the luscious young man.

"But are you sure it isn't an imposition?" At Draco's quizzical look, Severus regretted his careless question but he fumbled on. "I mean... Wouldn't it be difficult to bring a ...date home?"

Draco gave a wry smile. "Not a problem. I'm not seeing anybody and the occasional shag, well, the morning after is so awkward that I consider the loss of that no loss at all."

"I'm surprised." Severus raised a brow, trying hard to hide the hope that sprung up at that revelation that Draco was still *unattached*.

"What's so surprisingly?" Draco said lightly, but there was a faint undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. "Six years in Slytherin thought me caution, and being on Voldermort's hit list for traitors refined that to paranoia."

"So there's nobody—?" Severus fished, without trying to seem like he was.

"Nobody I am attracted to *and* can really trust enough to think about a long-term relationship with," Draco murmured. He stood up, smoothing his robes straight and started to walk away. His face was turned away, but silvery eyes darted back to glance almost coyly as he admitted very softly, "Well, none save you."

Severus almost spilled his tea in his hurry to put his cup down. Did Draco just say...

"Well, come on. It's getting late and I'm sure you're tired," Draco continued brightly, as if he hadn't said what Severus thought he said. He wasn't facing Severus and he stepped quickly to his desk to pack some papers into a satchel. "We can take the floo back to my place, actually the wizards here don't use the floo — they have little rune-portals, quite convenient — and it took me ages to set up this floo. My place is called Dragon’s Keep, yes you may laugh. Of course if you want to try a rune-portal..."

Severus stepped up stealthily behind Draco and smirked. One hand reached up to trail lightly along Draco's shoulder. "You're babbling."

Draco jumped slightly and tensed. "...Severus."

Severus smiled. “Me too.” Reaching into the small metal jar on the mantle, he threw in a pinchful and said clearly, “Dragon’s Keep.” The fire flared green and just before Severus stepped through, he turned, paused, and leaned in quickly to kiss Draco on the lips. Draco’s utterly stunned face — in a delighted sort of stunned, he was glad to note — was the last thing he saw before he stepped in the flames.


Draco raised a hand, touching his lips in confused wonder. Me too, *what*? He racked his brains for what he said, then realized he’d been standing like an idiot for minutes when Severus was waiting for him. At home.

A wide smile splitting his face, Draco reached for the floo powder.


Draco showed Severus around his home proudly and Severus was impressed.

Dragon’s Keep was a series of rooms built deep into a mountain. The room they floo-ed into was the living room, a wide, airy room tiled in sandstone that offered a panoramic view of a forest. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with bright light and cream voile drapes screened out the harshness of sunlight without making it seem unnatural. Severus raised an eye at the pure white couch, matching armchairs and white fur rug. A low glass table held a beautifully wrought crystal sculpture that caught the light and refracted tiny rainbows.

“Too bright for you?” Draco asked cheekily, stepping towards a doorway that obviously led to the other rooms. Severus held his tongue, a faintly amused smile on his lips.

Surprisingly, what transpired between them — Draco’s admission and Severus’ kiss — didn’t make things too awkward for them. Instead, it lent a delicious tension. Both were Slytherins; there was no need for brash announcements. Subtle hints; coy looks and flirtatious banter and touches that lingered just a bit, were far more elegant. Both knew that the other was interested.

The deeper rooms were in the heart of the mountain and windowless. “Most people were uncomfortable with it, but I loved it at first sight,” Draco said as he led Severus down another winding corridor. “It reminded me of the dungeons.”

“I like it as well,” Severus admitted, looking around him in satisfaction. There were advantages to living in the dungeons: the thick stones did a marvelous job of regulating the temperatures, it was never too hot in summer nor too cold in winter, and it *felt* secure. Charms easily kept the air well-ventilated and fresh-smelling.

Draco stopped in front of one of the doors and opened it. The guest bedroom was spacious and well-appointed. Dark blue fabrics and sturdy wooden furniture gave it a masculine identity; a large four-poster bed was tucked in the wall furthest from the door. Severus looked around the room approvingly. It was bare of other decorations but it was comfortable and functional.

“Thank you.” Severus pulled out his shrunken trunks and spelled them to their regular size. He spotted a tall rack beside the door and took off his heavy traveling robes and hung them up. Underneath them, he wore a black suit. The collars and cuffs of his white undershirt, which *had* been crisp when he left in the morning but was looking a little rumpled now, peeked out from under his shirt. Turning around, he noticed that Draco was still standing by the doorway.

“Enjoying the show?” Severus drawled as he unbuttoned his tunic, long fingers slowly unpopping each small pearl button.

“Very.” Draco grinned. “Do you want to see my bedroom? It’s just across yours.”

“I’m sure it’s extravagant and decadent.” Severus followed Draco out, his black shirt now hanging loose over the thin linen undershirt. He remembered the spoilt little rich boy’s bedroom back in the manor. It was probably as big as the Weasleys’ Burrow and crammed with all the toys a boy could want. Draco had one house-elf whose only job was to clean his room.

“Utterly.” Draco smirked. The touch of his hand on the ornate handle relaxed the wards around the bedroom and the door swung open silently.

It was a cathedral of a room, with high arched ceilings and sweeping cornices where sweetly trilling songbirds and jewel-bright dragonets could rest on. It was huge yet cozy, dark yet glittery, and utterly decadent; a dragon’s cavern indeed. Nooks and alcoves around the room were filled with fantastical treasures — shelves crammed with books and baskets of parchments and careless piles of glittering galleons and winking crystals, moving tapestries and mirrors that showed a verdant meadow or a howling canyon of ice and snow, tables that groaned under softly bubbling cauldrons and half-constructed charmed objects and magical curios and yet more books.

Severus gaped in surprised delight. Behind them, the door snicked shut, defensive wards snapping back into place with a slight silvering of the air.

As they stepped in, a fire leapt to life in the fireplace, cheerful flames dancing merrily. A tiny bird, golden and shiny as a galleon, alighted on a beam near the door and raised its head to sing. The sound of a river, babbling and tumbling and cascading over worn rocks filled the room.

The centerpiece of the room, surely, was the huge, round bed in the middle of the room. Lush and sensualistic, with jewel-bright multi-colored pillows thrown carelessly across silky black sheets and gauzy veils that hung from the ceiling and cocooned it, it wasn’t merely a bed for sleeping. It was for self-indulging and lolling about lazily. It was for *sex*.

Severus felt a hot wave of jealously and looked away towards the rest of the room, anywhere but that bed. Oh, the images that bed conjured! Why would Draco have such a bed in his room unless… unless he used it in such a manner!

“Mmm…” Unaware of Severus’ thoughts, Draco purred as he quickly shrugged off his robes and toed off his boots, leaving the expensive fabrics puddled carelessly on the floor. He padded across the room to drop onto a low couch. Thick rugs covered the floor, tawny fur shot with black. Draco looked up at Severus coyly. “What do you think of my room?”

Taking the cue from his host, Severus bent down to unlace his boots as well. “It’s… lovely, Draco.” He stood up and laughed ruefully as he looked again greedily at the books and *stuff* . “If it were mine, I may never leave.”

“True true,” Draco agreed happily as he wriggled his toes in the thick fur rugs with a shiver of delight. “This room is my indulgence; all my favorite stuff is in here, all my precious books and pretty baubles. If it weren’t for my business, I could spend *days* in here.”

“By yourself?” Severus asked in disbelief.

Draco noticed the slight tension in the older wizard’s tone and looked up again. “Yes I do. I mean, look at all the valuables here — some are even forbidden objects. Who would… *could* I let in here?”

“I’m here,” Severus pointed out.

“Well yes, you’re… you’re you.” Draco shrugged. A faint pink chased across his cheeks. “I trust you.”

Severus felt some of the tension he hadn’t known that was tightening his shoulders fade. “..thank you Draco.”

“Why?” Draco leaned back in the couch and stretched out on his side. Under his robes, he was wearing a pair of white pants, and a billowy poet’s shirt with laces and delicate embroidery. He looked fey; he exuded pampered aristocracy and obvious breeding, yet Draco could never be considered tame or bland.

Severus walked over to the couch and sat down daringly close to the young wizard. So close he could smell Draco’s scent, sweet and dark-spice. A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t an awkward one. Rather, as Severus looked at Draco and found his gaze returned with equal intensity, it was the calm before the storm, when the air was charged and pregnant.

Severus’ hand reached up and pushed back a lock of white-blond hair that had fallen loose from the hair ribbon, tucking it casually behind an ear in a easy movement as if he did that everyday. Draco’s eyes widened fractionally.

“You grew out your hair,” Severus stated as he leaned back against back of the couch. His heart was beating surprisingly fast; he cannot believe he just did that. Still, it felt …right. And Draco looked flustered. Severus felt smug, suddenly.

Breathing evenly and trying to calm his thoughts, he considered the long blond hair, which fell midway down Draco’s back. “It looks good on you… and surprisingly, not like Lucius.”

Draco patted back another stray lock self-consciously, head tilted in curiosity. “It doesn’t?”

Severus chuckled. “His hair was better behaved.” It was an apt description. Draco had let his hair grow, but instead of the heavy, golden mass Lucius had, the younger Malfoy’s hair remained silvery-blond and flyaway. While Lucius’s mane fell straight and neat, Draco’s wasn’t so obliging. Back in Hogwarts, Severus remembered seeing Draco when his hair wasn’t gelled back — the fine strands fluffed around his head and he looked like a dandelion.

“Did you grow it out because of Lucius?” Severus asked curiously. He knew Draco loved his father, in spite of what Lucius had done.

Draco laughed ruefully. “No, not really. After I fled
England, it was hard to find a hairstylist, and Mom only knew charms for long hair. It was simply easier to let it grow out and tie it back.” He pulled the ribbon loose, shaking out his hair, and deftly gathered the fine strands into a neat tail again.

Severus could imagine the fine mass, silvery and silken, spread out on that black silk bed. He shifted, stifling a groan, and his voice dropped unintentionally to a purr. “You look good.”

“Thank you.” Draco smiled, pleased. He ducked his head, hands unnecessarily smoothing down the front of his shirt in a nervous movement, glanced at the timepiece on his wrist and then rocked to his feet. “Oh, look at the time. What would you like for dinner?”

Severus blinked.

The blond wizard padded to the door and slipped into a pair of house slippers. “I’ll just tell Dinky — that’s my house-elf — to prepare dinner for two. How does fish sound?”

“It sounds very good.” Comprehension dawned. Severus smiled, a wicked, slow curl of lips. He took a deep breath to center himself, suddenly feeling very pleased… and eager.

He stood up and stretched, a cracking unfurling of his lanky limbs and tensing of other muscles, eyes alight in anticipation. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed Draco’s sudden flush, and he hid a smirk. This was one of the very best parts — the subtle fencing of wit and wicked gestures. Who is unaffected and who *squirms*.

Draco might have an advantage simply because he’s *gorgeous* — Severus can very well attest to that…

But he has been in the game longer.


Severus glared down at the parchment. He’s been writing and rewriting this section on the nine uses of horned toad’s blood for the past two days, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he was just tired. Or he had the so-called writers’ block.


It was all a matter of discipline, Severus knew. He had just been distracted by…

He arrested that thought with a frown and placed his quill down, leaned back and gazed around his room. It had been a tastefully decorated room, but it lacked character, identity — an occupant. Bit by bit, even though he had merely been staying for a month, he had already left little distinctive touches of his own all over the room; from the way he liked to have a high-backed chair beside the wardrobe to drape his clothes — he never really got the hang of a clothes rack — to the opened bottles of potion ingredients that lined a shelf. Over the years, he had gotten used to the smell of his potions laboratory; of course, some things like chimera’ bile he would *never* get used to, but he enjoyed the bitter tang of herbs or the acrid smell of minerals.

It had been a good month. He had quit Hogwarts with a sneer and satisfying flourish, and now, when he was not systematically going through the Chinese University’s library selection of potions texts or working on experimental potions, he was working on ‘British Potions for the Chinese Wizard’ with Draco. There are already plans for ‘Chinese Potions for the British Wizard’.

He gradually lost the sullen listlessness he found himself afflicted with after the war ended, and his eyes regained their sharp glint. He re-discovered just why he had chosen Potions as a profession and he even caught himself mixing a frivolous potion the other day, a simple if irritating one that caused one to burb soap bubbles. Severus thought that if he could combine it with a charm that detects curse words, he could make a killing marketing it to mothers and even teachers.

It had been a very good month indeed, but…

Severus leaned back and blew his breath out. He closed his eyes, and he saw blond hair. He saw silky gold that should be released from the confining ribbon, he thought about pouty lips that begged to be nipped and kissed, he fantasized about creamy skin that called to be licked and sucked and marked …


Severus jerked upright. Draco came in through the door, arms laden with books and fresh parchment and quills. Draco’s hair was still slightly damp, curling slightly at the ends. Fresh and sweet from a recent shower, a healthy rosy glow to his cheeks, he looked edible. Lickable.

“I got some more books. It was very generous of Professor Yang to lend me books from his personal collection. Where shall I place them?”

“On the side table, thanks.” Severus remembered Professor Yang sourly — and most of the
Chinese University faculty. But in particular Yang, who was around Draco’s age and good-looking. In a slanty-eyed sort of way.

Draco was very popular here; unencumbered by the Malfoy name, he had rapidly charmed over the wizards with his wit and exotic blond looks. With his dark looks, Severus fitted in easily, but Draco — *he* glowed like a white lily whenever he entered a room. His fair looks drew admiring stares wherever he went.

As Draco placed his load on the wooden table, an ornate sturdy one in dark rosewood, some of the parchment slid off the pile and dropped to the floor. Huffing in annoyance, Draco leaned down to gather the fallen papers. Severus could make out the scent of the mint and lime soap that was Draco’s favorite at the moment, and a sweet musk that was just Draco. Draco’s robes, a deep lapis blue silk, shifted around a slender waist and *clung* to the curve of a firm, high ass as the younger wizard bent down.

Draco straightened up again. Placing the papers neatly on the stack, he turned around slowly, an odd look on his face. “Sev… There’s a new movie out at the cinemas. Some Chinese swordfighting show. Would you like to come watch it with me tonight?”

Severus frowned dismissively. “You know I’m not really interested in watching those Muggle movies.”

Draco’s lips thinned and he turned away. “Fine. I’ll ask Zhiyuan if he is free then.”

“Zhiyuan?” Severus bit off the name jealously. He started to rise out of his seat, hands fisting. His eyes fell on Draco’s robes; they looked smart and new. Did Draco plan to go out? Who was he dressing up for?

“Yang Zhiyuan,” Draco replied casually. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ears. “He also enjoys…”

Severus saw red. At first he had been sure that Draco *was* interested in him, but lately, all he kept hearing about was Professor Yang this and Professor Yang that. And now, it was *Zhiyuan*?

Later, Severus would swear he *didn’t* know how his hands ended up on Draco’s hips, or how his lips found the bit of exposed skin just above the collar of Draco’s robe, which had slipped down slightly.

Draco gave a short squeak of surprise and stiffened, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Instead, his arm shot out, bracing himself against the edge of the table. “Sev…?”

In an egoistic way, Severus had wanted Draco to admit that he wanted *him*. That he wanted a bitter, older wizard who didn’t have much to offer by way of looks or money. He had taken the first step when he pecked Draco on the lips, but that was on the first day! Since then, Draco seemed to be blowing hot and cold, slyly inviting at times and uninterested at others, and absolutely *nothing* has happened.

Severus couldn’t take it anymore. Draco was young and desirable; Severus wasn’t blind to the hungry looks directed at Draco and he wanted to stake his claim on the blond in the most primitive way. Draco was *his*.

If he could just come up with the balls to say so.

Mind filled with horrid visions of losing Draco, Severus honestly couldn’t remember why he had been holding back. He wanted Draco and he knew Draco wanted him. It was that simple.

To Severus, it wasn’t a game anymore. He had thought he was too jaded, too cynical. He thought he knew about lust and so-called love; he thought he wanted Draco. But somehow, this feisty, spoilt, brilliant boy managed to rattle his defenses on that topic and redefine it daily. Draco was like his namesake, a dangerous creature that scorched and incinerated everything in it’s relentless path and yet remained breathtakingly, hauntingly beautiful. He knew he would get burnt, consumed, but he was still drawn like a moth to a flame.


“Don’t …what?” Draco said softly. He held himself still and taut, like a wire rope.

“Don’t …go with Yang,” Severus admitted, breathing against the nape of Draco’s neck. The blond gave a shiver. “I’ll go with you.”


Severus scowled. Why was the brat making it so difficult? He didn’t answer; instead, he gave another lick. His hands moved; one to push back Draco’s ponytail so he could reach more of the pale skin, and the other ran slowly down Draco’s thigh. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Draco reacted immediately.

“Do you want this?” Severus asked slowly. He continued stroking the side of Draco’s thigh, running up and down that lean flank, and then up to circle over the camber of a slim hip. His other arm moved down to clasp possessively over the younger wizard’s chest.

Draco turned his head sideways, lips curving up in a small smile, but one that was as radiant as the sun. “Yes.”

“Good.” Severus nuzzled the soft skin under his cheek. Still crouched in a bent position, he inhaled Draco’s scent, a sweet, musky ambrosia. “Because I’ve no intention of stopping.”

Draco wriggled and purred, a throaty vibration that resonated between them. The blond man recovered quickly. “I’ve no intention of letting you stop.”

“Brat.” Severus gave an affectionate nip and tightened his hold insistently. “My brat.”

“Sev… Shouldn’t we move to somewhere more comfortable?” Draco gave a light laugh and wriggled again. Severus frowned at the lack of a …declaration? Was that what he was looking for in return? But Draco seemed accepting so far…

“Mmm…No.” Severus stood up, one arm still wrapped around his lithe captive. The other shot out and swept the books and parchments off the table, clearing the surface. Urgently, yet carefully, he pushed Draco against the edge of the table. He buried his nose against the back of Draco’s nape, and pulled off the blue ribbon that held back the pale yellow hair with his teeth.

“This table is quite expensive,” Draco said breathlessly.

“So?” Severus found the row of small decorative clasps that held Draco’s robe together and deft fingers began undoing them. “It’s sturdy. It’s convenient.” His words were punctuated with nibbling kisses and licks as Draco’s robe fell from his shoulders, and Severus worked his way methodically down Draco’s spine, trailing butter-soft kisses.

Draco arched, tiny whimpers falling from his lips as each of the sensitive knobs along his spine were mouthed in turn. Shifting, he laid his upper body down more comfortably on top of the table. His robes fell to the floor and the light silk trousers he wore were unknotted and pushed down as well. Hands and mouth continued to stroke and worship his bared skin, hesitantly at first but the touches gradually became firmer, until he was a melted puddle of warmed muscle and blond hair, endorphins thrumming through his veins.

Severus reached the base of Draco’s spine, where he spent an inordinate amount of time of a little, utterly sexy dimple there. Draco was completely pliant under him, occasionally moaning happily. Raising his head and admiring the reddish bite marks on the blond’s pale back in satisfaction, Severus smirked. He didn’t just want pleased little moans…

Falling to his knees, Severus placed his palms on the firm globes of Draco’s arse, and what a magnificent *arse* it was. It was high and tight, sculpted and fully deserving of worshipful appreciation. Draco still kept himself in shape playing the local variant of quidditch with the
Chinese University’s team, which was played not on brooms but on young Chinese dragons that were specially bred for size and speed.

He cupped and squeezed it lightly, thumbs rubbing into the hollows at the sides of the muscled flesh before he moved to the shadowy cleft. Severus gently spread the blond’s cheeks, revealing a dusky pink rosette. Leaning forward, he gave a lick.

Draco moaned again, a low sweet sound. A breathless hitch. “Ohh… Are you going to.. But…” Uncertainty and disbelief wavered in his voice, but his legs parted wider despite his apprehension.

“Yes I am,” Severus purred. It was just one of the many, many things he had thought about doing to the young Malfoy. He enjoyed rimming if his partners were clean, and Draco was especially clean and fresh. “Have you ever…?” And he gave a wicked swipe of tongue up along the crack, from the downy balls to circle around the wrinkled hole.

“Oh, never, no… oh, oHH!” Draco’s hips canted up a little and his head shook wildly, spilling silvery-blond hair all over. His hands clutched white-knuckled at the edge of the desk — it was something stable admidst the roiling storm of sensations that were threatening to engulf him. It felt hot and softer than fingers, utterly dirty and yet so very good. Mewing cries tripped from his throat and he arched up on his toes as if to move away and pushed back his hips so as to get *more*. So slick, so wet, he could feel a thin trail of saliva running down one thigh and he could hear and *feel* the slurping as Severus licked and sucked mercilessly at his hole and oh—

Severus would have grinned if he could, with his tongue embedded within the quivering hole. Draco tasted and smelled intoxicating, a heady dark-spice of salty sweat and musky arousal and just *sex*. He pushed Draco’s cheeks further apart and began to move his tongue in and out. Draco’s sweet noises became louder as he writhed wantonly. The young wizard’s hips began rocking rhythmically, rubbing his stiff cock against the polished surface of the table until abruptly, he stiffened with a loud cry, spilling creamy strands all over the expensive table.

“Oh. Damn.” Draco lay limply, his head turned to one side as he caught his breath. Tiny shudders still rippled through his body and he gave a lusty sigh.

Severus stood up, wincing a little at the twinge in his knees. A reminder of his advanced years. “It was my pleasure.”

“Give me a moment to recover,” Draco said tiredly with an entirely pleased, dreamy smile. He gave a deliciously enticing wriggle and his eyes were half-lidded as he gazed up at the older wizard. “Sev, that was brilliant. Mind-blowing. I swear I saw *sparks*.”

“No, just stay like this.” Severus nodded, stripping off his robes. Even though the weather was warm, unlike Draco, under his black robes he still wore a stiff shirt that was buttoned all the way and heavy pants. He looked down at the disheveled blond as he removed his clothes, for once uncaring of the wrinkles as he dropped them to the floor, smirking. “Gods. You look gorgeous, all sweaty and mussed and laid out for me like that.”

“Oh? Why?” Draco asked, pale lashes dipping coyly as he turned to give a feline stretch, a lazy lengthening and rippling of lean muscles. The sticky, pearlescent mess smeared over his pale belly looked utterly sinful and sexy; the blond aristocrat was a study in elegant debauchery. Draco’s soft cock twitched and stirred; the wonderful stamina of youth.

“Because you always looked so poised, so well-put together. So proper,” Severus breathed, bending down and blanketing the slimmer blond. His lips found Draco’s in a kiss, and he marveled that it was only at this point that they shared their *first* kiss. Eyelids slid close as sweet tastes were exchanged and savored. Leisurely, they explored each other, hot tongues stroking and tangling and searing, slick lips smooth and warm.

“Beautiful.” And he meant both Draco and their kiss.

“I’m a Malfoy,” Draco said archly when they broke apart, eyes hooded and bright as he licked his lips absently. And then he abruptly blushed. “You taste…”

“Of you.” Severus grinned. “And now, Malfoy mine—“

Severus stood up and flipped the slim wizard onto his front, pulling him back slightly such that only Draco’s forearms rested on the table. He nudged the head of his cock — so hard and so heavy it felt like an iron wand! — against that small entrance, and rocked back and forth, teasing cruelly. His hands slid down to palm firm buttocks, spreading and squeezing. “I’m going to fuck you *now*. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for *days*. Every time you walk, every single time you *sit* down…”

“Oh, oh yes!” Soft cries spilled from Draco, his eyes closing and head falling forwards as the fat head continued its steady press and popped through the first tight ring of muscle. He was well-slicked and relaxed from his earlier orgasm, but it still hurt! Severus paused, one heartbeat and then two, and then he surged forward again.

The shriek that broke loose from Draco was raw and felt the hot prick of tears as Severus sank in deep. His fingers scrabbled at the edge of the table. It burned but it was— “Perfect… so good…“ he cooed, shaking uncontrollably. ”Ahh… *God*!”

Severus groaned as he sank into that tight, silken heat, hands gripping tightly at Draco’s narrow hips. He would leave bruises on that delicate skin, he knew. He didn’t *mean* to, but he cannot deny the satisfaction he felt, knowing that the marks on the pale, lovely skin were caused by him, knowing that the blond would move delicately for a couple of days at least because of *him*.

“Mine,” he heard himself growl as he bounced the smaller wizard hard; the ring of muscle was so tight and hot, it hurt, but that flash of pain quickly receded as he settled into a pounding rhythm. His hands slipped on sweat-slicked skin and his fingers tightened yet further.

The tension and friction of hot, slick flesh against flesh felt so wonderfully good — he could feel that familiar coil of tension within him rapidly tightening, each stroke bringing him all too quickly to the edge. The dulcet moans and whimpering curses from the supple body that twisted and undulated in his arms were driving him mad, driving him beyond his limits. Shattering the fiery tension within him, fracturing his vision into a dazzling kaleidoscope of swirling colors.


“I loved and hated this bed when I first saw it, you know,” Severus confessed as they lay panting on Draco’s huge bed, recovering from a particularly innovative game involving some ice, mint oil and a feature boa.

“Why?” Draco asked incredulously, and rolled over. “It’s a gorgeous bed! It’s a bed made for sybaritism and sex. We have great fun in it!”

“Precisely that.” A wry twist of lips. “I kept thinking that there was no way you would have such a bed if it wasn’t for sex.”

Draco blinked, suddenly embarrassed as his gaze slid away. “Well, you’re the first lover I’d ever shown this bed, not that I had that many lovers…”

Severus raised a brow in disbelief. “Not even that Yang guy with the shifty eyes?”

“Oh no.” Draco shook his head with a light laugh. “I’ve never slept with him; I’ve never wanted him. Sev — I knew him for at least a couple of years, ever since I moved here. Don’t you think we would be together if I was really interested in him?”

Severus sat up, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “So you’re telling me, you made all that innuendoes up and *lied* to make me jealous?”

“Yes.” An impudent grin.

“Why you imp—!”

Draco tossed his head. “But it worked, didn’t it?” He gave an insolent wink, and then lowered his head, pale lashes dipping coyly. “You caved first.”

~*~ End ~*~



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