Crown of Rope, part III
Sep. 29th, 2007 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneContinued from here
Back at Ron's flat, Ron headed for the bathroom while Draco poured himself a small helping of the schnapps. It was tasty, though he wouldn't be getting into the habit of drinking every night, as he suspected Ron did. Not that Ron had any kind of gut on him from doing so; he was in admirable shape. They were both in their sexual prime, too, a thought which made Draco very pleased as he drank the liqueur and waited for Rom to reappear, which he did mere moments later. He cast a knowing look at Draco's glass before standing directly behind him, wrapping his arms around Draco's midsection.
"D'you mind if we go straight to the bedroom?" Weasley asked, his now-minty breath tingling against Draco's temple.
"Thought you'd never ask," Draco drawled.
"Your voice," Ron moaned, his hands fanning downwards to seek out Draco's cock, only just thickening due to Ron's proximity. "Good thing you didn't sound so much like sex on toast in school or I'd've been a mess."
"Would've been?" Draco said snarkily as Ron growled into his scalp.
"C'mon. I actually have a gift for you, too," Ron said, suddenly sheepish.
He tugged Draco down the corridor, back to his bedroom. It had a bit more personality than the rest of his flat; more pictures, for one thing, the expected coterie of Gryffindors and family. On his tidily made bed there was a surprisingly high quality royal blue quilted bedspread, and two plants hanging from hooks in the ceiling, their scarlet trailing tendrils waving sinuously without a breeze. Against the far wall were two small bookcases at whose titles Draco could only glance furtively. The bed itself was large and roomy, modern-looking with a metal olive frame. There were curved stanchions at the base of the frame, and the headboard had elegant, abstract cutouts. Draco absorbed the startlingly modern style as Ron went over to an olive painted table and picked up a small box covered in black wrapping paper. He glanced around the room before looking back at Draco.
"It's not much—"
"I've no doubt it suits you. The only context I've had thinking about you in bed was Hogwarts. I'm glad you've outgrown Gryffindor maroon or whatever colour that was."
"Yeah. I like blue. It's soothing," Ron said, tapping his thumb nervously on the box.
Draco's attentions went to it before his gaze flickered back up to Ron's cobalt eyes. "So this is for me?" he asked, curious at what on earth Weasley might have been inspired to purchase after last weekend— aside from Draco's cologne, evidently.
"Yeah." With a slightly trembling hand, he gave it to Draco, who began unwrapping it immediately. "I'm not even sure why I got it, but after you said you'd come to the match, and I couldn't stop thinking about last weekend, and I'd never even been into a shop like this before…"
Draco took a sharp breath through his nose. His eyes lit up at the small strap of red leather with snaps. He lifted it out, turning it around before fixing a feral smile on Ron. "A cock restraint? Very interesting."
Weasley looked relieved, but also apologetic, which ruined the effect. "If you don't want to wear it—"
"Weasley. Ron," Draco said, emphasising the use of his first name. "If you're going to be at all dominant, do it. Don't be a nancy."
"Would you like that? I mean, you've talked some about kinky stuff, but I didn't know if you were just taking the piss."
Ron's consternation was deflating Draco's libido. He wasn't in the mood to teach Weasley how to be domineering in bed. Ron had been wild and possessive before, and Draco had loved that. Now Ron was being docile. It frustrated him, dampening the fire that had been kindling in his groin. Draco was annoyed, but he decided it was worth it to spell things out, this once.
"What I want is for you to be unable to keep your hands off of me," Draco said in a low voice, rubbing the leather between his fingers and staring Ron down. "I want you to want to see me spread out for you, not to beg me, but to demand because I do things for you no-one else does, and you can't stand for my answer to be no. Unless you've betrayed my trust, at which point there would be no sex anyway."
He stood his ground, thin icicles of fear that he'd put too much on the table at once sliding into his gut and making him clench his jaw. Ron seemed to be paralysed, but after a few moments a change came over his face.
"I've never wanted anyone like I do you. I don't want to play-act, though." His bushy eyebrows knit together.
"I'm not saying we should get leather and a crozier and act out the Biker and the Shepherdess," Draco said, his voice raised but not angry. Why did this have to be so hard? Ron looked more uncomfortable than before, making Draco wish they'd just started kissing and taking off their clothes instead of talking. This was the problem; Weasley wouldn't get it, he wouldn't be able to fathom Draco and his desires. He let out a strained breath through his nose.
"This is all really simple," he went on. "I like your cock, you like mine. You obviously like my arse, and I'm looking forward to spending quality time pleasuring yours if you'll let me."
Weasley nodded vigorously. That was small comfort, but it was something.
"There are times when I like my lover to be in control. You putting this lovely restraint on me is a start. But do it because you're driven to, because you want to ravage me and not let me come until you've decided I can. At times, I'll want to feel that my body belongs to you and you'll take it to the limits of what pleasure I can bear—"
"Strip for me."
A fierce look blazed in Ron's eyes, sending a molten throb to pulse in Draco's cock. Weasley didn't seem to be putting on airs— he understood. On some level, anyway, Draco had said something that had clicked in Ron's more primal, untamed sense of self. Instead of pacing, the feline lust in Draco's marrow now purred, feeling Ron's words like sensual hands, making him ache for Ron's literal touch.
"Strip and lie on your back on the bed, arms and legs out. I don't want you going anywhere."
Draco's shaft leapt against the confines of his slacks at Ron's comment. He stepped closer to return the cock ring to Ron, who'd obviously noticed the flush of arousal radiating from Draco's skin. He ran his fingers behind Draco's neck and kissed him deeply, their tongues sliding in an increasingly familiar dance until he pulled away. Ron's demeanour had wholly transformed: he was intense and hungry, though a phantom uncertainty flickered across his face before vanishing. He leaned in until their foreheads touched, his baritone rumbling in his chest.
"I know this is new, you and me not hexing or trying to kill each other, but you've got to believe me when I say I want you. With your body, and our sex, I only want you to think of me. I want to earn that."
"You're off to a fucking good start," Draco murmured.
He licked a wet path across Ron's bottom lip before stepping back and making short work of getting undressed. Draco lay on his back, arms and legs reaching out for the bedposts. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Ron's face, at the expression of power, and the tension brewing in his dilated eyes. Ron thought for a moment, then cast binding spells on Draco's wrists. When he felt the ironwisp of satin cord, Draco arched into the restraints. His body was zinging with exhilaration, his desire purring ferociously like a panther after a kill.
"Fuck, Draco, I really didn't think you could be any sexier than last weekend."
Draco arched an eyebrow in response, taking smug pleasure at the craving suffused on Ron's face. Ron pulled his rugby shirt over his head, toeing off his trainers so he could get out of the rest of his clothes. Draco's cock danced in jerks from his groin, watching avidly as Ron stripped down. At last he stood, wanking himself slowly and devouring Draco with his gaze.
"I'm not the most experienced guy around, but you won't be forgetting tonight for a long time, I promise."
Ron absently lit a few candles in the room and cast a Nox on the main light. "Oh. Need something that's pretty important," he said, his predatory smile a slow burn on his lips before he left the room.
As Draco watched him go, admiring the lush smattering of freckles on his arse, he felt that his skin was too tight; the blood pounded in his head and cock. He was greedy, he knew it; he was melting under Ron's visual attentions, but he needed to be touched. No doubt Ron would make the most of this, which warmed Draco's spirit in a manner totally separate from the carnal pyres Ron had lit in him. Ron reappeared, a tube of lubricant in his hand. Draco didn't recognise the brand, and he looked questioningly at Ron.
"Got it from Charlie. Has some sage in it. It's something they use at the dragon reserve. And no, fuck, I didn't get it from him because he and I needed it!" Ron exclaimed as Draco laughed, from deep in his belly. Ron's indignation at where Draco's mind had jokingly wandered was priceless.
"I thought you were a tight-knit family, but that would've been unexpected, to say the least," Draco said as Ron mock glowered at him, unscrewing the cap and waving it under Draco's nose.
"Very funny. It smells good, see?"
Draco nodded. The faint herbal, exotic scent only added to his overall pleasure, especially when Ron tossed the lube aside and straddled Draco's thighs, fastening the strap on Draco's hard shaft with care.
"You'll be begging me to let this off of you," Ron said in a low voice, combing his fingers through Draco's trimmed hair.
"We'll see about that."
Draco couldn't help his reply, even though Ron was probably right. He tested the bindings at his wrists, lifting up his neck a few inches before sinking luxuriantly down against the soft coverlet.
"You will. You—" Ron's fingers had ventured further down, discovering the shaved skin on Draco's bollocks. He looked up at Draco, an almost childlike delight in his face before he scooted down, poising his mouth over Draco's straining prick. "You shaved for me." His tongue lapped around the rosy dome and Draco groaned at the touch.
"I did. It's something I indulge in on occasion. Glad you like it," Draco rasped.
Ron began sucking on his cock in earnest, his head bobbing up and down as saliva seeped from his mouth, slowly trickling into Draco's pubic hair. "Fuck, Ron, feels so good. Gods, I fucking want you in me, on me…" his words transformed into inarticulate whines and gasps until Ron stopped and sat back on his heels. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his own shaft jutting up with a curve toward his abdomen.
"There's another part of you I want to taste," he said, his meaty fingers massaging Draco's inner thighs. Draco clenched his arsecheeks, the anticipation of Ron's intent showering a rush of heat down his spine.
"Oh fuck, yes," Draco moaned, planting his feet on the bed and splaying his legs wide, no longer caring how eager and desperate he seemed. He was. "Fuck, I want you in me from the inside out, everywhere—"
Ron's expression was one of a starving man settling down to a feast. A flush clouded his features as he circled Draco's puckered skin, and he asked, "Should I cast—"
"There's no need. I was quite thorough in my preparations for tonight."
Relief chased away the twinge of embarrassment on Ron's face and his enthusiasm returned. He frowned at the angle of Draco's positioning and looked up at him. "I'm taking a couple of those pillows."
Moments later, Draco's arse was raised up, and with a last scorching look, Ron buried his face between Draco's spread legs. Draco chanted a litany of moans and whimpers as Ron licked and jabbed into his channel with his clever tongue. He even hummed a bit, and pushed in a finger to nudge alongside his tongue while Draco pressed against him, wanting him as deep as possible. After a time, Ron sat up, his lips slightly swollen and purpose written on his face. Draco met the challenge in his eyes, wordlessly daring Ron to fuck him for all he was worth.
"Accio lube," Ron said throatily, squeezing a generous dollop into his palm. He slicked his cock until it glistened in the dim light.
"Fuck, yes, now, ohfuck," Draco murmured as Ron pushed into him, deep and steady. Draco encircled Ron's waist with his legs, crossing his ankles while Ron started thrusting. He set a forceful pace, his hands planted alongside Draco's chest. The room seemed warmer now, and with the sharp, organic scent of the lubricant, Draco was suddenly reminded of an ancient Shinto shrine he'd visited one day, deep in a forest during one of his long walks. The memory was incongruous with the current environment: Ron's bollocks swinging against his arse with slapping, moist sounds and the grunts they both made. And yet, as Draco's arse was pummeled and he grasped at the black cording that tethered him to Ron's bed, jerking at the fast tattoo of Ron's thrusts, he thought of how appropriately erotic and earthy they smelled.
Ron paused for a moment, and muttered, "Put your legs on my shoulders."
Draco did, bent nearly in half as Ron leaned in, kissing roughly against his mouth. Ron's cock slid in and out, the initial burn long having changed to the aching fullness Draco loved feeling in his tight muscle.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Ron panted, raising up and changing his angle so he was impossibly deep as he rammed into Draco's arse. Draco cried out at the intensity of it, wanting everything Ron had and more. For the blink of an eye he imagined having Ron's cock and a dildo at the same time, and clenched around the shaft so intimately joining them.
"Gonna— come—" Ron said before he let out a low moan that rolled over Draco. Ron's face was a grimace, his eyes squinched shut, a tear of sweat traipsing through an auburn eyebrow.
Draco's arse burned; his cock was in misery. A string of sticky pre-come joined the crown to his belly where it had been bouncing as Ron had pounded into him.
"You're— fuck," Ron gasped, shaking his head and causing a few drops of sweat to splatter on Draco's face. "Bet you're dying for me to take that thing off. Don't you want to come, to just explode all over?" he rumbled, regaining his breath and nosing gently at Draco's eyelids.
"Yes, fucking hell, so close," Draco whined, trying to get some friction against his steely prick.
"I could leave you here, like this," Ron taunted with no conviction.
Draco nearly rolled his eyes, but his body was desperate. "Let me come, Ron," he pleaded as Ron eased out of him, leaving Draco feeling bereft and a bit sore. The ghostly imprint of Ron's shaft in his hole lingered, and Draco wriggled his arse at the loss.
"Beg me," Ron said, drawing circles on Draco's quivering abdomen. All at once he grabbed Draco's tender sacs so that Draco shouted.
"Fuck! Please, Ron, need to come, wanted to come with you still in me," he said, his whole body tense and in near agony at the tension battering against the tight strip of leather.
"Well, since you asked so nicely…"
Ron gazed at him, heavy-lidded and sated. He dragged his fingers through the sweaty curls between Draco's legs until they reached the strap. He toyed with it and Draco groaned, arching his hips. He was going to fucking explode— it wouldn't take much of anything for Draco's release to be let loose. The band was unsnapped and Draco made an anguished sigh, begging Ron with his eyes to do something.
With surprising tenderness, Ron ghosted his fingers over the sensitive vein from base to tip, drawing a circle at the ridged foreskin. Draco yelled as his orgasm thundered through him, thick gouts of fluid spilling onto his stomach as he writhed and bucked until the aftershocks subsided. His whole body quivered. He felt as boneless and jelly-like as he had after a relatively mild earthquake had passed through Osaka. It had shaken him to his knees. At last his breathing slowed and he was able to focus on Ron, who looked exceedingly proud of himself.
"I wonder how Scorpius reacted to that," he said, amused, glancing down between Draco's arsecheeks.
"Probably belched fire," Draco replied, only half-joking. The truth was, he wasn't certain. He did love the tattoo and what it symbolised to him, but it was rather an odd choice for someone as enigmatic as he was. He was dependent on a partner to tell him what the dragon did, though he'd watched it some with mirrors while self-pleasuring. Scorpius tended to appear only at another person's touch, or thought, however.
"I may have to get one," Ron mused, undoing the binding spell on Draco's wrists and lying beside him. "Though I don't know about getting a lion or whatever with its tail curled around my bits or something."
"How dare you call those gorgeous balls bits," Draco scolded, rubbing at his biceps in slow circles while Ron laughed, low and warn.
"You're not at all how I would've imagined in bed, or out of it," Ron said, shifting his heavy but quiescent cock against Draco's thigh while getting more comfortable. "I could really get used to this."
Draco gave him a wan smile. "This? Shagging on weekends?"
Indignant hurt bruised itself on Ron's features. He really did seem incapable of keeping his feelings shuttered off, as Draco did without a second thought.
"No," Ron said, his voice frayed with frustration. "Not just that, and you know that's what I meant. Bloody hell. You put up a bloody thick wall, but don't forget you already have a crack in it. You've told me you thought about me while you were in Japan."
"I did," Draco acknowledged with a tiny nod. Still, he couldn't believe they'd simply fall into some peaceful routine, not this quickly, no matter how astonishing the sex. It wasn't like they had any friends in common, or hobbies, or anything else, for Merlin's sake.
"And here we are," Ron insisted, draping an arm over him. "We're great together."
"We have nothing in common, your family loathes me, and I don't date."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Fine. We won't date. Surely you're not so busy that we can't keep seeing each other? I'm a pretty interesting guy, myself. I've done some traveling and have tales to tell, too."
Draco knew he was surrendering to the inevitable when he was taken in by the endearing furrow on Ron's forehead. "I suppose—"
The sound of his jangling mobile cut into the relative hush of their conversation.
"What the fuck?!" Ron was on his feet, wand in hand with a practised ease and speed. That, combined with his candor impressed Draco enough to entrust a bit more of himself to Ron's caring, despite the emotional risk.
"It's my mobile," Draco said, rolling nonchalantly onto his back and patting the space next to him. "At this hour it's probably my cousin Cassandra. She lives in New York."
Ron's eyebrows raised as his body slowly relaxed and he sat back down on the bed.
"Or it's Blaise, and he's drunk, or bored. Or both," Draco said dismissively. "I'll turn the ringer off. Didn't know I'd left it on."
Ron seemed to be absorbing and catalogueing those bits of personal information about Draco. He leaned over, one hand anchored to the bed, and kissed Draco on the cheek.
"Will you stay the night? I'd really rather you didn't rush off, but I'll understand if that's what you want. I know you and I are used to being solo, but I quite liked waking up with you last week. I make pretty decent tea and toast, too," he said, smiling hopefully.
Ron's bed was quite comfortable, and in his sated afterglow, Draco agreed. "Yes, though I hadn't planned to stay." Throwing even more caution to the wind, he continued, "I'm glad you asked. But I'll need to borrow a toothbrush, or transfigure one."
"I bought you one, just in case."
A low thrum of pleasure nestled in Draco's chest at Ron's gratitude, almost palpable in its concentration. It would take time, but perhaps he could find a way to get used to it.
* * * * *
An instructor from the Slade School of Art rang Draco the following Saturday afternoon while he and Ron had sought shelter from the pouring rain in a small pub. He agreed to go by the administration office on Monday in order to fill out some necessary paperwork, and even to stay and pose for a four o'clock figure drawing class. As he snapped the phone closed, Ron looked at him in disbelief.
Keeping his voice low, Ron leaned in over his pint and said, "I just can't believe how Muggle-ish you've become."
Draco sat ramrod straight, his gaze hard and his anger steaming.
"Just because I choose to use some of their gadgets and am quite content to earn their money and have it converted at Gringott's doesn't make me any less a wizard," he said, the words sharp in their attack. "I can't help it that my name isn't going to help me out in our world. It's not like I had a choice in doing some of the things I did that were… permanent." He paused, glancing down at his forearms before glancing at Ron again. "I'll never be anything but a wizard, Weasley, and a powerful one at that." He sat against the booth, picking up his tea and trying to calm himself down.
"Didn't mean to hit a nerve, Draco," Ron said, the guilt in his timbre encouraging Draco to believe him. "I just thought my dad would love to see your mobile. I wouldn't let him do anything other than hold it, though. His enthusiasm has broken more than a few things he's been taken with."
Draco scowled before forcing a more impassive look on his face. "You seem awfully keen on having me around your family. Need I remind you—"
"Merlin! I'm not suggesting we Apparate to the Burrow this afternoon, I'm not saying anything daft like that," Ron said, flustered. "But you're the first person I've actually wanted to do things with, share things."
"Don't you already have plenty of friends?" Draco asked, genuinely curious. He'd never seen Weasley do anything by himself, except that night when he'd cornered Draco after the banquet. He'd assaulted Draco completely of his own volition. Well, he was choosing to pursue him now without any outside support that Draco knew of. "I'd have thought Potter and Granger and your Gryffindor cronies would keep you with an active social life."
"They do, but what's wrong with wanting to add you to that?" Ron's expression was so full of entreaty that Draco admired his tenacity, if nothing else.
"Nothing, but I'm Draco Malfoy. That's probably wrong enough for them."
"Don't be a prick."
"It comes with the territory."
In the ensuing stalemate, Ron took a long pull of his ale. Draco flipped open his cigarette case, took one out and lit it. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar heat in his lungs before letting out the smoke, relaxing as he did.
"Look, Draco, I know we have a past," Ron said, invoking no small amount of understatement. "I'd like to think that this thing we've just started could be really fucking good for both of us. Surely there's some reason why we kissed that first time, and why I couldn't get you out of my head."
Draco commiserated with him, though he found his memories taking him back to the places of quiet he'd discovered amid the bustle of Muggle Japanese life. He'd done some reading on Shinto and Zen, and had found himself resonating to some of the concepts, especially to do with the push and pull of conflicting or opposite desires.
"I'm sure there is some reason." Draco paused, trying to figure out how to express his thoughts. Malfoys strategised and dictated; being all touchy-feely was decidedly not a part of his upbringing, and he was atrocious at it.
"I don't do this well, Ron," he said, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. "But I'll try. You're compelling, and you've become quite good-looking. You've managed to get under my skin in ways my other lovers haven't."
"Did you want them to?"
"No," Draco answered immediately. "They weren't bad blokes or anything, but our liaisons had only one purpose, and it didn't exist outside of Haitokukan."
Ron didn't recognise the meaning of the word, of course, so Draco elaborated. "It was a particular type of club. The name translates to 'House of Immortality.' I didn't meet up with any of them for dinner, or have relationships."
"You don't like…" Ron's expression again harboured a collection of emotions all at once, a feat which Draco found astonishing up close.
"Being pissed on? Having a fist up my arse? Being flogged? No."
Ron's relief was almost tangible.
"Though I find I do like your company," Draco said, the very words feeling comfortable and savoury on his tongue.
"I hope that's not half as scary to you as the things you just mentioned to me," Ron said with a smirk.
"I'm getting used to it."
"Good. Does that mean I can entice you to come over again tonight? And we're taking Teddy to London Zoo tomorrow. I'm sure he'd like to see you again, since you're related and everything," Ron enthused, ordering another pint.
"I'm not a babysitter," Draco said pointedly, lighting another cigarette off the one he'd nearly finished. "And aren't you even the slightest bit worried that you'll get sick of me if we spend so much time together? Ah— more tea, thanks." He addressed the last sentence to their server, who nodded brusquely.
"No. Well, I've spent loads of time with Harry and we're still best mates."
"You weren't sleeping with him," Draco pointed out.
Ron looked a bit discomfited. Draco was certain he'd at least thought about it in his imagination, but he decided not to force the point.
"No, I wasn't. Say, why are you going to be getting your kit off at a Muggle art school?" Ron asked, quickly changing the subject. "That's…" he fumbled for appropriate words as Draco accepted the new cup of tea.
"Unlikely. Bizarre. Laughable. Yes, all of those things. I was just out for a walk, and saw signs. Literally. It's something to do, they don't know me from the Bloody Baron, and it won't interfere with my golf."
"You play golf?"
Draco was succeeding famously in making Ron utterly gobsmacked. He quite enjoyed it, the way Ron blinked and furrowed his brow before shrugging and muttering something inarticulate into his ale.
"Yes. Do you play?"
"No, but I know you hit a small ball around a vast lawn. And it's Muggle." He continued to work on his pint, evaluating Draco as he sipped his tea and finished his smoke.
"Well, maybe you'll play a round with me at some point in the future," Draco said at last, feeling awkward and wishing he didn't. "I'll come over later today, but I'll pass on the trip to the zoo. It's just a bit too domestic."
"No, that's fine, I understand," Ron said eagerly. Apparently he was happy enough that they could plan on another night of passionate fucking and cosying up afterwards. Draco wouldn't mind that at all, though he did want to spend some time in the quiet of his flat.
"I do want to spend this afternoon at my place, but I'll plan to come over at seven, if that suits. Shall I bring dinner?" Draco put a couple of pound notes on the table, readying to leave.
"Yeah, okay. I'll eat just about anything. There's a great fish and chips place a couple of blocks from my flat on Dulaman Street if you wanted to pick us up something from there. And Draco," Ron paused as a burly pair of men eased by, giving Draco a look of disgust as they passed.
Draco glared contemptuously at their backs. "What?" he snapped.
"Well, um, I'd like you to stay over again. I won't be sick of you, I promise."
Draco focussed his attentions back on Ron, at the shaggy waves of hair pulled behind his ears, and the inviting curve of his bottom lip. He couldn't think of a time since childhood when he'd been desired so much, just for being himself. It couldn't possibly last, but Draco decided he'd take advantage while it was there for the offering.
"All right. I'll get some coffee, too, then."
"Brilliant."
When Ron beamed happily at him, Draco couldn't help but smile in return.
* * * * *
They finally roused themselves out of bed around 11:30 the next Sunday. Draco had brought a small phial of pain potion he'd brewed, figuring if they were as athletic in their shagging as they'd been in the past, he'd probably need it. To his pleasure, he was right. They showered together and then Ron made a large pan of eggs, cheese and vegetables that wasn't an omelet, but Draco didn't know what else to call it. While Ron was cooking, Draco wandered over to Ron's collection of Muggle musical disks, looking at the strange names while blowing on his coffee.
"I'm not the only one who has more than a toe in the Muggle world," he said toward the kitchen. "You could open a music shop with all of these."
"I like music!" Ron called back, defensively. "There just aren't that many wizarding bands. C'mere and sit down. Breakfast's ready."
A rack of toast, mickleberry preserves, butter and a carafe of orange juice floated to his small table. Draco joined them, and then Ron. Draco's olfactory senses were in overload, between all of the comforting smells of breakfast, as well as the piquant crispness of cedar from Ron's soap and dash of aftershave. He'd been surprised to see that Ron preferred to shave with an actual razor, but didn't question it. Draco had found himself getting hard just watching Ron cut away the red-golden stubble with practised ease, drawing the blade down and across his jaw and up his succulent neck.
"Not bad," Draco said after his third or fourth forkful.
"Thanks." Ron had a large dollop of tomato sauce on the side of his plate and offered Draco the bottle, but he demurred. "Say, I really don't mean to pressure you, but I'm supposed to meet Harry and Teddy at one o'clock. Are you sure you don't want to come along? When's the last time you've been to a zoo?"
Draco carefully spread preserves on a piece of toast. "I've never been to a zoo. Why would I want to go and look at a bunch of animals trapped in cages?"
"You've never been? Draco, you've got to come." Ron's pleading was a shadow's breath away from a whine.
"No, frankly, I don't. But if it means you'll stop badgering me about it, and you don't get it into your head that I'm going to be a part of your babysitting partnership with Potter, I'll go. This once."
"Excellent."
Had Draco had other plans, he would have stuck to his principles and said absolutely not, but he didn't. His cousin Cassandra was going to be visiting in a few weeks, and he'd set up an appointment with a golfing instructor for the following Wednesday. Aside from going to the art school to model, a fact he still hadn't quite accepted to himself except to laugh at how surreal it was, he didn't have a packed schedule. Plus, he had a devilish anticipatory pleasure in seeing Potter's face when he showed up with Weasley. All of a sudden, he wondered if Potter's wife would be there, too. He really didn't want to spend the afternoon with her around.
"Ron, your sister won't be there too, will she?"
"No, just Harry and Teddy. Why?" he asked, pouring himself a large glass of juice and doing the same for Draco.
"I'd rather be out with just you and Potter. My instincts tell me she's going to have choice words for you, whenever you decide to tell her you're shagging a Malfoy on a regular basis."
"It's more than that!" Ron said vehemently.
"Even more reason for me to keep my distance. I might not even be able to recognise you after the hexes she could well cast on you if you tell her you're actually head over heels and infatuated with a Death Eater's son and former sworn enemy."
"Maybe I can think for my bloody self!" Ron's face was turning scarlet under his freckles, and Draco suddenly wondered whether or not Ron had ever experienced uncontrolled, wild magic in his life. "I'm not embarrassed or ashamed that I fancy men, and they can all just fucking piss off if they don't like the fact that I really like you. A lot." His anger tapered off at that comment, and Draco slowly nodded, taking a deep swallow of coffee.
"You don't really date either, do you?" Draco asked carefully. "Since the end of the War, and once you realised you weren't going off into the sunset with Granger, once you knew you were different and your sex life would be full of cocks and arse, not jiggly curves?"
Ron slowly shook his head, pushing a triangle of toast through the eggs and tomato sauce. "I didn't really know until you. And I kept trying, some, with girls. And guys. But that's what got me off."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Draco reminded him.
"I know. That's what I'm saying," Ron agreed, through a mouthful of food. "But I don't know many other wizards like us. I've had some sex, obviously, but there wasn't anybody I wanted to settle down with." He let out a low, rueful laugh. "There was a Muggle bloke who was pretty cool, and we were together for a couple of months, but I wasn't being myself. I couldn't even tell him what I did for a living, and I'm really proud that I'm an Auror."
Draco munched on his toast and gave himself another helping of the egg mixture, which made Ron's demeanour brighten. "Well, this wasn't at all what I expected when I came back, but I can't say that I'm sorry." He tapped the salt shaker in a small circle above his eggs. "The wizarding world isn't some fairy land, though. People hold grudges. Not you," he said quickly, as Ron had opened his mouth, no doubt to defend himself unnecessarily. "I just think that it's probably for the best not to make any grand pronouncements to your family. My history with Potter goes back as far as mine with yours, and a couple of hours at the zoo with him around will probably be fine. I just see no need to rush anything."
Ron mulled over Draco's commentary and let out a deep breath. "Yeah, you're probably right. And don't worry about Harry; I know he's bloody curious about what you've been up to, and like I said, he can seem overly interested in my sex life. I told him I wasn't telling him anything about us, not about that topic."
"Good. It's not his bloody business," Draco said, spearing the last of his eggs. "The last thing I want is him thinking about my arse. That's for you alone."
A predatory look settled onto Ron's features. "Yes, it is. I wonder if we have enough time…" He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "Fuck! No. No time. Are you finished?"
Draco smirked. "Yes. Do we need to go?"
"Yeah. Bloody hell, I wonder where my umbrella is. Can't believe it's still bloody raining," Ron said hurriedly, pushing away from the table and taking his wand off the table to levitate the dishes into an orderly phalanx into his sink where they began washing themselves.
"I brought one. I'll be right back."
Draco went and used the bathroom and found Ron standing at his front door, looking agitated.
"Ron. We'll be there in just a couple of minutes."
"You're right. I just—"
Draco shut him up with a deep kiss, waiting for Ron to relax a bit so he could slide in his tongue, tasting the sweet tea and tang of the preserves still in his mouth. Seconds later Draco was pinned against the wall, Ron's weight pressing insistently against him. Ron drew back after a moment, his expression apologetic.
"We've got to go. But maybe we can continue that later."
"Hope so."
Draco's large umbrella in tow, they left Ron's apartment, Ron casting a locking spell and taking the spiral staircase nearly at a run. They Apparated to a point not far from the zoo and saw Harry and Teddy standing at the entrance, looking in their direction. Harry waved, and Ron started to jog down the path. Draco believed running was only appropriate when being pursued, so he opened the wide umbrella against the drizzle and walked at his own pace over to the small group.
"Malfoy! Ron said you might join us. Glad to see you again."
Draco had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything impolite, and shook Potter's hand. He looked down at his first cousin, once removed, this child of a werewolf and a family outcast, wearing a bright orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt under a bright yellow rain slicker.
"Hi Teddy. I'm Draco. Do you remember me from the park last week?"
The boy nodded, his brown hair a riot of unbrushed curls around his face.
"I guess I shouldn't even ask where his shirt came from," he said sardonically, looking at Ron.
Ron grinned. "Nope."
Draco turned to look back at Teddy. "I think you and I should have a talk about Quidditch and what teams to support."
"Cannons!" he said brightly.
Draco groaned. "For Merlin's sake."
"Harpies!" he shouted, a bit louder and Harry laughed.
"That's my godson," he said proudly. "C'mon. Let's go in. Teddy's been looking forward to this for days."
Ron draped his arm around Draco's back for a moment, and spoke quietly in his ear. "Thanks again for doing this."
"Trust me, you'll be making it up to me later," Draco said, arching an eyebrow.
Feeling Potter's inquisitive gaze on them, Draco nudged Ron gently away, though he'd quite liked feeling Ron's arm curled comfortably around him. The zoo didn't have many other people in attendance, and the drizzle turned to a steady, slow rain. While wandering around, Ron and Potter talked a bit about some of their recent Auror assignments, and Potter let slip that Ron had recently been awarded some kind of honour for work done with kelpies in Scotland. He seemed genuinely embarrassed, but proud as well, and Draco wished irrationally that somehow they'd crossed paths weeks before so he could have been in attendance.
The animals for the most part looked displeased or bored in their cages, and Draco couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Teddy was particularly taken with the penguins, which seemed to be having a smashing day, and then the bats in the area for nocturnal animals. After an hour or so they stopped and had something hot to drink, then headed to the children's zoo, but the petting paddock was closed. Teddy began sniffling, so Potter said he'd show him something special in the reptile house. Ron got a queer gleam in his eye at that, which made Draco wonder they were in for.
Potter had been holding Teddy on his back, but he let him down as they looked at the glass cages, moving them along until they got to the cases with large snakes. He stopped in front of one that supposedly housed a Burmese python, but it was nowhere to be seen. Potter glanced about and saw that they were alone, turned to the cage next to it where a cobra was sleeping in a thick bundle of coils, which caused an erotic thrill in Draco. He let the feeling pass. After looking at the cobra for a moment, Potter turned back to the python cage and began speaking in an inhuman sound of hisses and undeniably sexy sibilants.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Draco asked tersely.
"He's a parselmouth," Ron said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you remember? From that duel in second year? I can do it, too, but not very well at all. It comes naturally to him. He wasn't sure whether or not he'd still be able to talk to snakes after killing You Know Who, but he can."
Teddy was mesmerised, demanding that Ron pick him up so he could see as the vast snake slithered up to the glass of the window, tongue flickering out and in. Draco was still trying to absorb what Ron had told him.
"You can make those sounds, too? How?"
"Well, I did, once. Hermione and I went down to the Chamber of Secrets in the middle of the fight in the Great Hall before Harry…" he paused, obviously not wanting to say too much in front of the child in his arms. "I'll tell you later."
"It's a big snake!" Teddy said delightedly.
The stream of s-sounds had stopped coming out of Potter's mouth and he looked over at Draco, his expression cheery. "The python is bored. He'd like to be let free, of course, but I told him I really shouldn't."
"No, I wouldn't imagine the zoo staff would be particularly pleased about that."
Potter seemed caught up in a memory and absentmindedly rubbed at his forehead, shaking his head as a wistful look settled on his face. "No. I doubt they would."
Potter summoning the python for Teddy to look at proved to be the highlight for the young boy— Draco, too, though he was a bit displeased that he'd found hearing anything out of Potter's mouth erotic. After Teddy tired of the snake and not being able to touch it, he started getting cranky, so they made their way to the exit. Teddy had to be carried again as he was half-asleep. When Potter mentioned going back to Andromeda's for a nap, however, he threw a small tantrum.
"I think we'd best head off," Potter said, letting the child sit on the ground and cry, splashing his hands in a puddle. "I enjoyed your company, Malfoy. I'd like to hear more about your adventures in Japan sometime. See you at the Burrow for dinner?" he asked Ron, purposefully looking over at Draco and then back.
"I'll be there," Ron said, resignation in his tone. "I haven't missed any Sunday dinners unless I've been out of the country."
"D'you have obligations like that?" Potter asked Draco before tugging Teddy up from the ground, now wailing because he was cold and wet.
"Now that I'm back in England, yes, I'm certain I'll be expected to visit my parents regularly. But we don't have a schedule like the Weasleys apparently do."
"Hmmmmm."
Draco could only imagine both Ron and Potter's thoughts about the Manor, since their only experience of it would have been the awful events when he'd nearly wet himself trying not to give them away, and then Bellatrix torturing the Granger girl.
"I don't live at the Manor," Draco said pointedly. "I have my own flat."
"Can't say that I blame you. Having your own place to live really is priceless. Well, I've got to get Master Lupin home. Ron, I'll see you around six, then?"
"Yeah. Bye, Teddy. Give me a hug."
Pouting and wiping the snot under his nose with his hand, Teddy finally walked over the few steps to where Ron had crouched down. With a thunk, he dropped his head on Ron's shoulder. It was a surprisingly endearing moment, and Draco couldn't suppress the smile that unfurled from somewhere in his chest.
"Say good-bye to Draco, too," Ron prodded gently.
"Bye," came the muffled voice spoken into Ron's jumper.
Teddy went back to Potter's side. Ron stood up and waved Potter and his godson along. He yawned widely and Draco looked askance at him.
"Am I boring you?"
"No, you know you're not," Ron murmured, standing close but not actually touching. Draco wasn't sure how Ron felt about public displays of affection, but Draco thought it wasn't worth the stares and attention.
"I think I'll take a nap before the family dinner, though. Care to join me?" Ron asked, letting his hand rest on Draco's hip.
It wasn't at all an unpleasant invitation, and Draco very nearly surrendered to the promise sheltered in Ron's eyes. His own bed called to him, though, and he really did need to catch up with Blaise and Pansy and just spend some quiet time alone.
"Thank you very much for the offer, but my own flat calls." He continued to hold his umbrella over them, lowering it so they had a bit of privacy, not that there was a lot of footpath traffic. "I'll owl you later on this week."
He leaned upwards just a bit to kiss Ron chastely on the lips, the low fire kindling quickly when Ron's hand slid to the middle of Draco's back. Ron mouthed tiny nipped kisses on Draco's lips without deepening the intensity before stepping away.
"Please do. I'd like to meet you for lunch one day," he said quietly, putting his hands in his corduroy jacket pockets. "And show you my office. If you don't think that's too much."
"The Ministry isn't exactly a place where I'd like to spend a lot of time."
Ron nodded, knowing Draco had had to spend several days being interviewed and cross-examined about his role in the War before he was allowed his rights and privileges again. Potter had even returned his wand to him, thankfully without Rita Skeeter and a media circus. "Owl me the details. Any day but Monday. Or Wednesday."
"All right." Ron hesitated, and Draco feared their parting would go on all afternoon if he didn't just go ahead and leave.
"Bye, Ron. I'm taking the umbrella. Were you going to Apparate?"
"Yeah. Do you mind walking me over there to those trees?"
Away from any passers-by, Ron Apparated back to his flat, presumably. Draco did as well, casting a drying spell on the umbrella and putting on water to boil for his tea once he was at home. It felt strange to realise that except for a couple of hours the day before, he'd been gone since Friday late afternoon. He'd spent nearly the entirety of his weekend with Ron, and the time had flown by. It was astonishing.
Once made, he took his tea outside under the overhang on his porch and drank it while having a cigarette. It occurred to him that he should check up on his owl, Gabriel, at the owlery at the Manor. He found himself yawning, the late nights of conversation and sex catching up with him. He put up a set of low-grade wards and locked his flat, made certain the ringer on his mobile was off, and crawled contentedly into his bed for a nap. He drifted off in minutes.
* * * * *
On to part four
Back at Ron's flat, Ron headed for the bathroom while Draco poured himself a small helping of the schnapps. It was tasty, though he wouldn't be getting into the habit of drinking every night, as he suspected Ron did. Not that Ron had any kind of gut on him from doing so; he was in admirable shape. They were both in their sexual prime, too, a thought which made Draco very pleased as he drank the liqueur and waited for Rom to reappear, which he did mere moments later. He cast a knowing look at Draco's glass before standing directly behind him, wrapping his arms around Draco's midsection.
"D'you mind if we go straight to the bedroom?" Weasley asked, his now-minty breath tingling against Draco's temple.
"Thought you'd never ask," Draco drawled.
"Your voice," Ron moaned, his hands fanning downwards to seek out Draco's cock, only just thickening due to Ron's proximity. "Good thing you didn't sound so much like sex on toast in school or I'd've been a mess."
"Would've been?" Draco said snarkily as Ron growled into his scalp.
"C'mon. I actually have a gift for you, too," Ron said, suddenly sheepish.
He tugged Draco down the corridor, back to his bedroom. It had a bit more personality than the rest of his flat; more pictures, for one thing, the expected coterie of Gryffindors and family. On his tidily made bed there was a surprisingly high quality royal blue quilted bedspread, and two plants hanging from hooks in the ceiling, their scarlet trailing tendrils waving sinuously without a breeze. Against the far wall were two small bookcases at whose titles Draco could only glance furtively. The bed itself was large and roomy, modern-looking with a metal olive frame. There were curved stanchions at the base of the frame, and the headboard had elegant, abstract cutouts. Draco absorbed the startlingly modern style as Ron went over to an olive painted table and picked up a small box covered in black wrapping paper. He glanced around the room before looking back at Draco.
"It's not much—"
"I've no doubt it suits you. The only context I've had thinking about you in bed was Hogwarts. I'm glad you've outgrown Gryffindor maroon or whatever colour that was."
"Yeah. I like blue. It's soothing," Ron said, tapping his thumb nervously on the box.
Draco's attentions went to it before his gaze flickered back up to Ron's cobalt eyes. "So this is for me?" he asked, curious at what on earth Weasley might have been inspired to purchase after last weekend— aside from Draco's cologne, evidently.
"Yeah." With a slightly trembling hand, he gave it to Draco, who began unwrapping it immediately. "I'm not even sure why I got it, but after you said you'd come to the match, and I couldn't stop thinking about last weekend, and I'd never even been into a shop like this before…"
Draco took a sharp breath through his nose. His eyes lit up at the small strap of red leather with snaps. He lifted it out, turning it around before fixing a feral smile on Ron. "A cock restraint? Very interesting."
Weasley looked relieved, but also apologetic, which ruined the effect. "If you don't want to wear it—"
"Weasley. Ron," Draco said, emphasising the use of his first name. "If you're going to be at all dominant, do it. Don't be a nancy."
"Would you like that? I mean, you've talked some about kinky stuff, but I didn't know if you were just taking the piss."
Ron's consternation was deflating Draco's libido. He wasn't in the mood to teach Weasley how to be domineering in bed. Ron had been wild and possessive before, and Draco had loved that. Now Ron was being docile. It frustrated him, dampening the fire that had been kindling in his groin. Draco was annoyed, but he decided it was worth it to spell things out, this once.
"What I want is for you to be unable to keep your hands off of me," Draco said in a low voice, rubbing the leather between his fingers and staring Ron down. "I want you to want to see me spread out for you, not to beg me, but to demand because I do things for you no-one else does, and you can't stand for my answer to be no. Unless you've betrayed my trust, at which point there would be no sex anyway."
He stood his ground, thin icicles of fear that he'd put too much on the table at once sliding into his gut and making him clench his jaw. Ron seemed to be paralysed, but after a few moments a change came over his face.
"I've never wanted anyone like I do you. I don't want to play-act, though." His bushy eyebrows knit together.
"I'm not saying we should get leather and a crozier and act out the Biker and the Shepherdess," Draco said, his voice raised but not angry. Why did this have to be so hard? Ron looked more uncomfortable than before, making Draco wish they'd just started kissing and taking off their clothes instead of talking. This was the problem; Weasley wouldn't get it, he wouldn't be able to fathom Draco and his desires. He let out a strained breath through his nose.
"This is all really simple," he went on. "I like your cock, you like mine. You obviously like my arse, and I'm looking forward to spending quality time pleasuring yours if you'll let me."
Weasley nodded vigorously. That was small comfort, but it was something.
"There are times when I like my lover to be in control. You putting this lovely restraint on me is a start. But do it because you're driven to, because you want to ravage me and not let me come until you've decided I can. At times, I'll want to feel that my body belongs to you and you'll take it to the limits of what pleasure I can bear—"
"Strip for me."
A fierce look blazed in Ron's eyes, sending a molten throb to pulse in Draco's cock. Weasley didn't seem to be putting on airs— he understood. On some level, anyway, Draco had said something that had clicked in Ron's more primal, untamed sense of self. Instead of pacing, the feline lust in Draco's marrow now purred, feeling Ron's words like sensual hands, making him ache for Ron's literal touch.
"Strip and lie on your back on the bed, arms and legs out. I don't want you going anywhere."
Draco's shaft leapt against the confines of his slacks at Ron's comment. He stepped closer to return the cock ring to Ron, who'd obviously noticed the flush of arousal radiating from Draco's skin. He ran his fingers behind Draco's neck and kissed him deeply, their tongues sliding in an increasingly familiar dance until he pulled away. Ron's demeanour had wholly transformed: he was intense and hungry, though a phantom uncertainty flickered across his face before vanishing. He leaned in until their foreheads touched, his baritone rumbling in his chest.
"I know this is new, you and me not hexing or trying to kill each other, but you've got to believe me when I say I want you. With your body, and our sex, I only want you to think of me. I want to earn that."
"You're off to a fucking good start," Draco murmured.
He licked a wet path across Ron's bottom lip before stepping back and making short work of getting undressed. Draco lay on his back, arms and legs reaching out for the bedposts. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Ron's face, at the expression of power, and the tension brewing in his dilated eyes. Ron thought for a moment, then cast binding spells on Draco's wrists. When he felt the ironwisp of satin cord, Draco arched into the restraints. His body was zinging with exhilaration, his desire purring ferociously like a panther after a kill.
"Fuck, Draco, I really didn't think you could be any sexier than last weekend."
Draco arched an eyebrow in response, taking smug pleasure at the craving suffused on Ron's face. Ron pulled his rugby shirt over his head, toeing off his trainers so he could get out of the rest of his clothes. Draco's cock danced in jerks from his groin, watching avidly as Ron stripped down. At last he stood, wanking himself slowly and devouring Draco with his gaze.
"I'm not the most experienced guy around, but you won't be forgetting tonight for a long time, I promise."
Ron absently lit a few candles in the room and cast a Nox on the main light. "Oh. Need something that's pretty important," he said, his predatory smile a slow burn on his lips before he left the room.
As Draco watched him go, admiring the lush smattering of freckles on his arse, he felt that his skin was too tight; the blood pounded in his head and cock. He was greedy, he knew it; he was melting under Ron's visual attentions, but he needed to be touched. No doubt Ron would make the most of this, which warmed Draco's spirit in a manner totally separate from the carnal pyres Ron had lit in him. Ron reappeared, a tube of lubricant in his hand. Draco didn't recognise the brand, and he looked questioningly at Ron.
"Got it from Charlie. Has some sage in it. It's something they use at the dragon reserve. And no, fuck, I didn't get it from him because he and I needed it!" Ron exclaimed as Draco laughed, from deep in his belly. Ron's indignation at where Draco's mind had jokingly wandered was priceless.
"I thought you were a tight-knit family, but that would've been unexpected, to say the least," Draco said as Ron mock glowered at him, unscrewing the cap and waving it under Draco's nose.
"Very funny. It smells good, see?"
Draco nodded. The faint herbal, exotic scent only added to his overall pleasure, especially when Ron tossed the lube aside and straddled Draco's thighs, fastening the strap on Draco's hard shaft with care.
"You'll be begging me to let this off of you," Ron said in a low voice, combing his fingers through Draco's trimmed hair.
"We'll see about that."
Draco couldn't help his reply, even though Ron was probably right. He tested the bindings at his wrists, lifting up his neck a few inches before sinking luxuriantly down against the soft coverlet.
"You will. You—" Ron's fingers had ventured further down, discovering the shaved skin on Draco's bollocks. He looked up at Draco, an almost childlike delight in his face before he scooted down, poising his mouth over Draco's straining prick. "You shaved for me." His tongue lapped around the rosy dome and Draco groaned at the touch.
"I did. It's something I indulge in on occasion. Glad you like it," Draco rasped.
Ron began sucking on his cock in earnest, his head bobbing up and down as saliva seeped from his mouth, slowly trickling into Draco's pubic hair. "Fuck, Ron, feels so good. Gods, I fucking want you in me, on me…" his words transformed into inarticulate whines and gasps until Ron stopped and sat back on his heels. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his own shaft jutting up with a curve toward his abdomen.
"There's another part of you I want to taste," he said, his meaty fingers massaging Draco's inner thighs. Draco clenched his arsecheeks, the anticipation of Ron's intent showering a rush of heat down his spine.
"Oh fuck, yes," Draco moaned, planting his feet on the bed and splaying his legs wide, no longer caring how eager and desperate he seemed. He was. "Fuck, I want you in me from the inside out, everywhere—"
Ron's expression was one of a starving man settling down to a feast. A flush clouded his features as he circled Draco's puckered skin, and he asked, "Should I cast—"
"There's no need. I was quite thorough in my preparations for tonight."
Relief chased away the twinge of embarrassment on Ron's face and his enthusiasm returned. He frowned at the angle of Draco's positioning and looked up at him. "I'm taking a couple of those pillows."
Moments later, Draco's arse was raised up, and with a last scorching look, Ron buried his face between Draco's spread legs. Draco chanted a litany of moans and whimpers as Ron licked and jabbed into his channel with his clever tongue. He even hummed a bit, and pushed in a finger to nudge alongside his tongue while Draco pressed against him, wanting him as deep as possible. After a time, Ron sat up, his lips slightly swollen and purpose written on his face. Draco met the challenge in his eyes, wordlessly daring Ron to fuck him for all he was worth.
"Accio lube," Ron said throatily, squeezing a generous dollop into his palm. He slicked his cock until it glistened in the dim light.
"Fuck, yes, now, ohfuck," Draco murmured as Ron pushed into him, deep and steady. Draco encircled Ron's waist with his legs, crossing his ankles while Ron started thrusting. He set a forceful pace, his hands planted alongside Draco's chest. The room seemed warmer now, and with the sharp, organic scent of the lubricant, Draco was suddenly reminded of an ancient Shinto shrine he'd visited one day, deep in a forest during one of his long walks. The memory was incongruous with the current environment: Ron's bollocks swinging against his arse with slapping, moist sounds and the grunts they both made. And yet, as Draco's arse was pummeled and he grasped at the black cording that tethered him to Ron's bed, jerking at the fast tattoo of Ron's thrusts, he thought of how appropriately erotic and earthy they smelled.
Ron paused for a moment, and muttered, "Put your legs on my shoulders."
Draco did, bent nearly in half as Ron leaned in, kissing roughly against his mouth. Ron's cock slid in and out, the initial burn long having changed to the aching fullness Draco loved feeling in his tight muscle.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Ron panted, raising up and changing his angle so he was impossibly deep as he rammed into Draco's arse. Draco cried out at the intensity of it, wanting everything Ron had and more. For the blink of an eye he imagined having Ron's cock and a dildo at the same time, and clenched around the shaft so intimately joining them.
"Gonna— come—" Ron said before he let out a low moan that rolled over Draco. Ron's face was a grimace, his eyes squinched shut, a tear of sweat traipsing through an auburn eyebrow.
Draco's arse burned; his cock was in misery. A string of sticky pre-come joined the crown to his belly where it had been bouncing as Ron had pounded into him.
"You're— fuck," Ron gasped, shaking his head and causing a few drops of sweat to splatter on Draco's face. "Bet you're dying for me to take that thing off. Don't you want to come, to just explode all over?" he rumbled, regaining his breath and nosing gently at Draco's eyelids.
"Yes, fucking hell, so close," Draco whined, trying to get some friction against his steely prick.
"I could leave you here, like this," Ron taunted with no conviction.
Draco nearly rolled his eyes, but his body was desperate. "Let me come, Ron," he pleaded as Ron eased out of him, leaving Draco feeling bereft and a bit sore. The ghostly imprint of Ron's shaft in his hole lingered, and Draco wriggled his arse at the loss.
"Beg me," Ron said, drawing circles on Draco's quivering abdomen. All at once he grabbed Draco's tender sacs so that Draco shouted.
"Fuck! Please, Ron, need to come, wanted to come with you still in me," he said, his whole body tense and in near agony at the tension battering against the tight strip of leather.
"Well, since you asked so nicely…"
Ron gazed at him, heavy-lidded and sated. He dragged his fingers through the sweaty curls between Draco's legs until they reached the strap. He toyed with it and Draco groaned, arching his hips. He was going to fucking explode— it wouldn't take much of anything for Draco's release to be let loose. The band was unsnapped and Draco made an anguished sigh, begging Ron with his eyes to do something.
With surprising tenderness, Ron ghosted his fingers over the sensitive vein from base to tip, drawing a circle at the ridged foreskin. Draco yelled as his orgasm thundered through him, thick gouts of fluid spilling onto his stomach as he writhed and bucked until the aftershocks subsided. His whole body quivered. He felt as boneless and jelly-like as he had after a relatively mild earthquake had passed through Osaka. It had shaken him to his knees. At last his breathing slowed and he was able to focus on Ron, who looked exceedingly proud of himself.
"I wonder how Scorpius reacted to that," he said, amused, glancing down between Draco's arsecheeks.
"Probably belched fire," Draco replied, only half-joking. The truth was, he wasn't certain. He did love the tattoo and what it symbolised to him, but it was rather an odd choice for someone as enigmatic as he was. He was dependent on a partner to tell him what the dragon did, though he'd watched it some with mirrors while self-pleasuring. Scorpius tended to appear only at another person's touch, or thought, however.
"I may have to get one," Ron mused, undoing the binding spell on Draco's wrists and lying beside him. "Though I don't know about getting a lion or whatever with its tail curled around my bits or something."
"How dare you call those gorgeous balls bits," Draco scolded, rubbing at his biceps in slow circles while Ron laughed, low and warn.
"You're not at all how I would've imagined in bed, or out of it," Ron said, shifting his heavy but quiescent cock against Draco's thigh while getting more comfortable. "I could really get used to this."
Draco gave him a wan smile. "This? Shagging on weekends?"
Indignant hurt bruised itself on Ron's features. He really did seem incapable of keeping his feelings shuttered off, as Draco did without a second thought.
"No," Ron said, his voice frayed with frustration. "Not just that, and you know that's what I meant. Bloody hell. You put up a bloody thick wall, but don't forget you already have a crack in it. You've told me you thought about me while you were in Japan."
"I did," Draco acknowledged with a tiny nod. Still, he couldn't believe they'd simply fall into some peaceful routine, not this quickly, no matter how astonishing the sex. It wasn't like they had any friends in common, or hobbies, or anything else, for Merlin's sake.
"And here we are," Ron insisted, draping an arm over him. "We're great together."
"We have nothing in common, your family loathes me, and I don't date."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Fine. We won't date. Surely you're not so busy that we can't keep seeing each other? I'm a pretty interesting guy, myself. I've done some traveling and have tales to tell, too."
Draco knew he was surrendering to the inevitable when he was taken in by the endearing furrow on Ron's forehead. "I suppose—"
The sound of his jangling mobile cut into the relative hush of their conversation.
"What the fuck?!" Ron was on his feet, wand in hand with a practised ease and speed. That, combined with his candor impressed Draco enough to entrust a bit more of himself to Ron's caring, despite the emotional risk.
"It's my mobile," Draco said, rolling nonchalantly onto his back and patting the space next to him. "At this hour it's probably my cousin Cassandra. She lives in New York."
Ron's eyebrows raised as his body slowly relaxed and he sat back down on the bed.
"Or it's Blaise, and he's drunk, or bored. Or both," Draco said dismissively. "I'll turn the ringer off. Didn't know I'd left it on."
Ron seemed to be absorbing and catalogueing those bits of personal information about Draco. He leaned over, one hand anchored to the bed, and kissed Draco on the cheek.
"Will you stay the night? I'd really rather you didn't rush off, but I'll understand if that's what you want. I know you and I are used to being solo, but I quite liked waking up with you last week. I make pretty decent tea and toast, too," he said, smiling hopefully.
Ron's bed was quite comfortable, and in his sated afterglow, Draco agreed. "Yes, though I hadn't planned to stay." Throwing even more caution to the wind, he continued, "I'm glad you asked. But I'll need to borrow a toothbrush, or transfigure one."
"I bought you one, just in case."
A low thrum of pleasure nestled in Draco's chest at Ron's gratitude, almost palpable in its concentration. It would take time, but perhaps he could find a way to get used to it.
* * * * *
An instructor from the Slade School of Art rang Draco the following Saturday afternoon while he and Ron had sought shelter from the pouring rain in a small pub. He agreed to go by the administration office on Monday in order to fill out some necessary paperwork, and even to stay and pose for a four o'clock figure drawing class. As he snapped the phone closed, Ron looked at him in disbelief.
Keeping his voice low, Ron leaned in over his pint and said, "I just can't believe how Muggle-ish you've become."
Draco sat ramrod straight, his gaze hard and his anger steaming.
"Just because I choose to use some of their gadgets and am quite content to earn their money and have it converted at Gringott's doesn't make me any less a wizard," he said, the words sharp in their attack. "I can't help it that my name isn't going to help me out in our world. It's not like I had a choice in doing some of the things I did that were… permanent." He paused, glancing down at his forearms before glancing at Ron again. "I'll never be anything but a wizard, Weasley, and a powerful one at that." He sat against the booth, picking up his tea and trying to calm himself down.
"Didn't mean to hit a nerve, Draco," Ron said, the guilt in his timbre encouraging Draco to believe him. "I just thought my dad would love to see your mobile. I wouldn't let him do anything other than hold it, though. His enthusiasm has broken more than a few things he's been taken with."
Draco scowled before forcing a more impassive look on his face. "You seem awfully keen on having me around your family. Need I remind you—"
"Merlin! I'm not suggesting we Apparate to the Burrow this afternoon, I'm not saying anything daft like that," Ron said, flustered. "But you're the first person I've actually wanted to do things with, share things."
"Don't you already have plenty of friends?" Draco asked, genuinely curious. He'd never seen Weasley do anything by himself, except that night when he'd cornered Draco after the banquet. He'd assaulted Draco completely of his own volition. Well, he was choosing to pursue him now without any outside support that Draco knew of. "I'd have thought Potter and Granger and your Gryffindor cronies would keep you with an active social life."
"They do, but what's wrong with wanting to add you to that?" Ron's expression was so full of entreaty that Draco admired his tenacity, if nothing else.
"Nothing, but I'm Draco Malfoy. That's probably wrong enough for them."
"Don't be a prick."
"It comes with the territory."
In the ensuing stalemate, Ron took a long pull of his ale. Draco flipped open his cigarette case, took one out and lit it. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar heat in his lungs before letting out the smoke, relaxing as he did.
"Look, Draco, I know we have a past," Ron said, invoking no small amount of understatement. "I'd like to think that this thing we've just started could be really fucking good for both of us. Surely there's some reason why we kissed that first time, and why I couldn't get you out of my head."
Draco commiserated with him, though he found his memories taking him back to the places of quiet he'd discovered amid the bustle of Muggle Japanese life. He'd done some reading on Shinto and Zen, and had found himself resonating to some of the concepts, especially to do with the push and pull of conflicting or opposite desires.
"I'm sure there is some reason." Draco paused, trying to figure out how to express his thoughts. Malfoys strategised and dictated; being all touchy-feely was decidedly not a part of his upbringing, and he was atrocious at it.
"I don't do this well, Ron," he said, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. "But I'll try. You're compelling, and you've become quite good-looking. You've managed to get under my skin in ways my other lovers haven't."
"Did you want them to?"
"No," Draco answered immediately. "They weren't bad blokes or anything, but our liaisons had only one purpose, and it didn't exist outside of Haitokukan."
Ron didn't recognise the meaning of the word, of course, so Draco elaborated. "It was a particular type of club. The name translates to 'House of Immortality.' I didn't meet up with any of them for dinner, or have relationships."
"You don't like…" Ron's expression again harboured a collection of emotions all at once, a feat which Draco found astonishing up close.
"Being pissed on? Having a fist up my arse? Being flogged? No."
Ron's relief was almost tangible.
"Though I find I do like your company," Draco said, the very words feeling comfortable and savoury on his tongue.
"I hope that's not half as scary to you as the things you just mentioned to me," Ron said with a smirk.
"I'm getting used to it."
"Good. Does that mean I can entice you to come over again tonight? And we're taking Teddy to London Zoo tomorrow. I'm sure he'd like to see you again, since you're related and everything," Ron enthused, ordering another pint.
"I'm not a babysitter," Draco said pointedly, lighting another cigarette off the one he'd nearly finished. "And aren't you even the slightest bit worried that you'll get sick of me if we spend so much time together? Ah— more tea, thanks." He addressed the last sentence to their server, who nodded brusquely.
"No. Well, I've spent loads of time with Harry and we're still best mates."
"You weren't sleeping with him," Draco pointed out.
Ron looked a bit discomfited. Draco was certain he'd at least thought about it in his imagination, but he decided not to force the point.
"No, I wasn't. Say, why are you going to be getting your kit off at a Muggle art school?" Ron asked, quickly changing the subject. "That's…" he fumbled for appropriate words as Draco accepted the new cup of tea.
"Unlikely. Bizarre. Laughable. Yes, all of those things. I was just out for a walk, and saw signs. Literally. It's something to do, they don't know me from the Bloody Baron, and it won't interfere with my golf."
"You play golf?"
Draco was succeeding famously in making Ron utterly gobsmacked. He quite enjoyed it, the way Ron blinked and furrowed his brow before shrugging and muttering something inarticulate into his ale.
"Yes. Do you play?"
"No, but I know you hit a small ball around a vast lawn. And it's Muggle." He continued to work on his pint, evaluating Draco as he sipped his tea and finished his smoke.
"Well, maybe you'll play a round with me at some point in the future," Draco said at last, feeling awkward and wishing he didn't. "I'll come over later today, but I'll pass on the trip to the zoo. It's just a bit too domestic."
"No, that's fine, I understand," Ron said eagerly. Apparently he was happy enough that they could plan on another night of passionate fucking and cosying up afterwards. Draco wouldn't mind that at all, though he did want to spend some time in the quiet of his flat.
"I do want to spend this afternoon at my place, but I'll plan to come over at seven, if that suits. Shall I bring dinner?" Draco put a couple of pound notes on the table, readying to leave.
"Yeah, okay. I'll eat just about anything. There's a great fish and chips place a couple of blocks from my flat on Dulaman Street if you wanted to pick us up something from there. And Draco," Ron paused as a burly pair of men eased by, giving Draco a look of disgust as they passed.
Draco glared contemptuously at their backs. "What?" he snapped.
"Well, um, I'd like you to stay over again. I won't be sick of you, I promise."
Draco focussed his attentions back on Ron, at the shaggy waves of hair pulled behind his ears, and the inviting curve of his bottom lip. He couldn't think of a time since childhood when he'd been desired so much, just for being himself. It couldn't possibly last, but Draco decided he'd take advantage while it was there for the offering.
"All right. I'll get some coffee, too, then."
"Brilliant."
When Ron beamed happily at him, Draco couldn't help but smile in return.
* * * * *
They finally roused themselves out of bed around 11:30 the next Sunday. Draco had brought a small phial of pain potion he'd brewed, figuring if they were as athletic in their shagging as they'd been in the past, he'd probably need it. To his pleasure, he was right. They showered together and then Ron made a large pan of eggs, cheese and vegetables that wasn't an omelet, but Draco didn't know what else to call it. While Ron was cooking, Draco wandered over to Ron's collection of Muggle musical disks, looking at the strange names while blowing on his coffee.
"I'm not the only one who has more than a toe in the Muggle world," he said toward the kitchen. "You could open a music shop with all of these."
"I like music!" Ron called back, defensively. "There just aren't that many wizarding bands. C'mere and sit down. Breakfast's ready."
A rack of toast, mickleberry preserves, butter and a carafe of orange juice floated to his small table. Draco joined them, and then Ron. Draco's olfactory senses were in overload, between all of the comforting smells of breakfast, as well as the piquant crispness of cedar from Ron's soap and dash of aftershave. He'd been surprised to see that Ron preferred to shave with an actual razor, but didn't question it. Draco had found himself getting hard just watching Ron cut away the red-golden stubble with practised ease, drawing the blade down and across his jaw and up his succulent neck.
"Not bad," Draco said after his third or fourth forkful.
"Thanks." Ron had a large dollop of tomato sauce on the side of his plate and offered Draco the bottle, but he demurred. "Say, I really don't mean to pressure you, but I'm supposed to meet Harry and Teddy at one o'clock. Are you sure you don't want to come along? When's the last time you've been to a zoo?"
Draco carefully spread preserves on a piece of toast. "I've never been to a zoo. Why would I want to go and look at a bunch of animals trapped in cages?"
"You've never been? Draco, you've got to come." Ron's pleading was a shadow's breath away from a whine.
"No, frankly, I don't. But if it means you'll stop badgering me about it, and you don't get it into your head that I'm going to be a part of your babysitting partnership with Potter, I'll go. This once."
"Excellent."
Had Draco had other plans, he would have stuck to his principles and said absolutely not, but he didn't. His cousin Cassandra was going to be visiting in a few weeks, and he'd set up an appointment with a golfing instructor for the following Wednesday. Aside from going to the art school to model, a fact he still hadn't quite accepted to himself except to laugh at how surreal it was, he didn't have a packed schedule. Plus, he had a devilish anticipatory pleasure in seeing Potter's face when he showed up with Weasley. All of a sudden, he wondered if Potter's wife would be there, too. He really didn't want to spend the afternoon with her around.
"Ron, your sister won't be there too, will she?"
"No, just Harry and Teddy. Why?" he asked, pouring himself a large glass of juice and doing the same for Draco.
"I'd rather be out with just you and Potter. My instincts tell me she's going to have choice words for you, whenever you decide to tell her you're shagging a Malfoy on a regular basis."
"It's more than that!" Ron said vehemently.
"Even more reason for me to keep my distance. I might not even be able to recognise you after the hexes she could well cast on you if you tell her you're actually head over heels and infatuated with a Death Eater's son and former sworn enemy."
"Maybe I can think for my bloody self!" Ron's face was turning scarlet under his freckles, and Draco suddenly wondered whether or not Ron had ever experienced uncontrolled, wild magic in his life. "I'm not embarrassed or ashamed that I fancy men, and they can all just fucking piss off if they don't like the fact that I really like you. A lot." His anger tapered off at that comment, and Draco slowly nodded, taking a deep swallow of coffee.
"You don't really date either, do you?" Draco asked carefully. "Since the end of the War, and once you realised you weren't going off into the sunset with Granger, once you knew you were different and your sex life would be full of cocks and arse, not jiggly curves?"
Ron slowly shook his head, pushing a triangle of toast through the eggs and tomato sauce. "I didn't really know until you. And I kept trying, some, with girls. And guys. But that's what got me off."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Draco reminded him.
"I know. That's what I'm saying," Ron agreed, through a mouthful of food. "But I don't know many other wizards like us. I've had some sex, obviously, but there wasn't anybody I wanted to settle down with." He let out a low, rueful laugh. "There was a Muggle bloke who was pretty cool, and we were together for a couple of months, but I wasn't being myself. I couldn't even tell him what I did for a living, and I'm really proud that I'm an Auror."
Draco munched on his toast and gave himself another helping of the egg mixture, which made Ron's demeanour brighten. "Well, this wasn't at all what I expected when I came back, but I can't say that I'm sorry." He tapped the salt shaker in a small circle above his eggs. "The wizarding world isn't some fairy land, though. People hold grudges. Not you," he said quickly, as Ron had opened his mouth, no doubt to defend himself unnecessarily. "I just think that it's probably for the best not to make any grand pronouncements to your family. My history with Potter goes back as far as mine with yours, and a couple of hours at the zoo with him around will probably be fine. I just see no need to rush anything."
Ron mulled over Draco's commentary and let out a deep breath. "Yeah, you're probably right. And don't worry about Harry; I know he's bloody curious about what you've been up to, and like I said, he can seem overly interested in my sex life. I told him I wasn't telling him anything about us, not about that topic."
"Good. It's not his bloody business," Draco said, spearing the last of his eggs. "The last thing I want is him thinking about my arse. That's for you alone."
A predatory look settled onto Ron's features. "Yes, it is. I wonder if we have enough time…" He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "Fuck! No. No time. Are you finished?"
Draco smirked. "Yes. Do we need to go?"
"Yeah. Bloody hell, I wonder where my umbrella is. Can't believe it's still bloody raining," Ron said hurriedly, pushing away from the table and taking his wand off the table to levitate the dishes into an orderly phalanx into his sink where they began washing themselves.
"I brought one. I'll be right back."
Draco went and used the bathroom and found Ron standing at his front door, looking agitated.
"Ron. We'll be there in just a couple of minutes."
"You're right. I just—"
Draco shut him up with a deep kiss, waiting for Ron to relax a bit so he could slide in his tongue, tasting the sweet tea and tang of the preserves still in his mouth. Seconds later Draco was pinned against the wall, Ron's weight pressing insistently against him. Ron drew back after a moment, his expression apologetic.
"We've got to go. But maybe we can continue that later."
"Hope so."
Draco's large umbrella in tow, they left Ron's apartment, Ron casting a locking spell and taking the spiral staircase nearly at a run. They Apparated to a point not far from the zoo and saw Harry and Teddy standing at the entrance, looking in their direction. Harry waved, and Ron started to jog down the path. Draco believed running was only appropriate when being pursued, so he opened the wide umbrella against the drizzle and walked at his own pace over to the small group.
"Malfoy! Ron said you might join us. Glad to see you again."
Draco had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything impolite, and shook Potter's hand. He looked down at his first cousin, once removed, this child of a werewolf and a family outcast, wearing a bright orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt under a bright yellow rain slicker.
"Hi Teddy. I'm Draco. Do you remember me from the park last week?"
The boy nodded, his brown hair a riot of unbrushed curls around his face.
"I guess I shouldn't even ask where his shirt came from," he said sardonically, looking at Ron.
Ron grinned. "Nope."
Draco turned to look back at Teddy. "I think you and I should have a talk about Quidditch and what teams to support."
"Cannons!" he said brightly.
Draco groaned. "For Merlin's sake."
"Harpies!" he shouted, a bit louder and Harry laughed.
"That's my godson," he said proudly. "C'mon. Let's go in. Teddy's been looking forward to this for days."
Ron draped his arm around Draco's back for a moment, and spoke quietly in his ear. "Thanks again for doing this."
"Trust me, you'll be making it up to me later," Draco said, arching an eyebrow.
Feeling Potter's inquisitive gaze on them, Draco nudged Ron gently away, though he'd quite liked feeling Ron's arm curled comfortably around him. The zoo didn't have many other people in attendance, and the drizzle turned to a steady, slow rain. While wandering around, Ron and Potter talked a bit about some of their recent Auror assignments, and Potter let slip that Ron had recently been awarded some kind of honour for work done with kelpies in Scotland. He seemed genuinely embarrassed, but proud as well, and Draco wished irrationally that somehow they'd crossed paths weeks before so he could have been in attendance.
The animals for the most part looked displeased or bored in their cages, and Draco couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Teddy was particularly taken with the penguins, which seemed to be having a smashing day, and then the bats in the area for nocturnal animals. After an hour or so they stopped and had something hot to drink, then headed to the children's zoo, but the petting paddock was closed. Teddy began sniffling, so Potter said he'd show him something special in the reptile house. Ron got a queer gleam in his eye at that, which made Draco wonder they were in for.
Potter had been holding Teddy on his back, but he let him down as they looked at the glass cages, moving them along until they got to the cases with large snakes. He stopped in front of one that supposedly housed a Burmese python, but it was nowhere to be seen. Potter glanced about and saw that they were alone, turned to the cage next to it where a cobra was sleeping in a thick bundle of coils, which caused an erotic thrill in Draco. He let the feeling pass. After looking at the cobra for a moment, Potter turned back to the python cage and began speaking in an inhuman sound of hisses and undeniably sexy sibilants.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Draco asked tersely.
"He's a parselmouth," Ron said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you remember? From that duel in second year? I can do it, too, but not very well at all. It comes naturally to him. He wasn't sure whether or not he'd still be able to talk to snakes after killing You Know Who, but he can."
Teddy was mesmerised, demanding that Ron pick him up so he could see as the vast snake slithered up to the glass of the window, tongue flickering out and in. Draco was still trying to absorb what Ron had told him.
"You can make those sounds, too? How?"
"Well, I did, once. Hermione and I went down to the Chamber of Secrets in the middle of the fight in the Great Hall before Harry…" he paused, obviously not wanting to say too much in front of the child in his arms. "I'll tell you later."
"It's a big snake!" Teddy said delightedly.
The stream of s-sounds had stopped coming out of Potter's mouth and he looked over at Draco, his expression cheery. "The python is bored. He'd like to be let free, of course, but I told him I really shouldn't."
"No, I wouldn't imagine the zoo staff would be particularly pleased about that."
Potter seemed caught up in a memory and absentmindedly rubbed at his forehead, shaking his head as a wistful look settled on his face. "No. I doubt they would."
Potter summoning the python for Teddy to look at proved to be the highlight for the young boy— Draco, too, though he was a bit displeased that he'd found hearing anything out of Potter's mouth erotic. After Teddy tired of the snake and not being able to touch it, he started getting cranky, so they made their way to the exit. Teddy had to be carried again as he was half-asleep. When Potter mentioned going back to Andromeda's for a nap, however, he threw a small tantrum.
"I think we'd best head off," Potter said, letting the child sit on the ground and cry, splashing his hands in a puddle. "I enjoyed your company, Malfoy. I'd like to hear more about your adventures in Japan sometime. See you at the Burrow for dinner?" he asked Ron, purposefully looking over at Draco and then back.
"I'll be there," Ron said, resignation in his tone. "I haven't missed any Sunday dinners unless I've been out of the country."
"D'you have obligations like that?" Potter asked Draco before tugging Teddy up from the ground, now wailing because he was cold and wet.
"Now that I'm back in England, yes, I'm certain I'll be expected to visit my parents regularly. But we don't have a schedule like the Weasleys apparently do."
"Hmmmmm."
Draco could only imagine both Ron and Potter's thoughts about the Manor, since their only experience of it would have been the awful events when he'd nearly wet himself trying not to give them away, and then Bellatrix torturing the Granger girl.
"I don't live at the Manor," Draco said pointedly. "I have my own flat."
"Can't say that I blame you. Having your own place to live really is priceless. Well, I've got to get Master Lupin home. Ron, I'll see you around six, then?"
"Yeah. Bye, Teddy. Give me a hug."
Pouting and wiping the snot under his nose with his hand, Teddy finally walked over the few steps to where Ron had crouched down. With a thunk, he dropped his head on Ron's shoulder. It was a surprisingly endearing moment, and Draco couldn't suppress the smile that unfurled from somewhere in his chest.
"Say good-bye to Draco, too," Ron prodded gently.
"Bye," came the muffled voice spoken into Ron's jumper.
Teddy went back to Potter's side. Ron stood up and waved Potter and his godson along. He yawned widely and Draco looked askance at him.
"Am I boring you?"
"No, you know you're not," Ron murmured, standing close but not actually touching. Draco wasn't sure how Ron felt about public displays of affection, but Draco thought it wasn't worth the stares and attention.
"I think I'll take a nap before the family dinner, though. Care to join me?" Ron asked, letting his hand rest on Draco's hip.
It wasn't at all an unpleasant invitation, and Draco very nearly surrendered to the promise sheltered in Ron's eyes. His own bed called to him, though, and he really did need to catch up with Blaise and Pansy and just spend some quiet time alone.
"Thank you very much for the offer, but my own flat calls." He continued to hold his umbrella over them, lowering it so they had a bit of privacy, not that there was a lot of footpath traffic. "I'll owl you later on this week."
He leaned upwards just a bit to kiss Ron chastely on the lips, the low fire kindling quickly when Ron's hand slid to the middle of Draco's back. Ron mouthed tiny nipped kisses on Draco's lips without deepening the intensity before stepping away.
"Please do. I'd like to meet you for lunch one day," he said quietly, putting his hands in his corduroy jacket pockets. "And show you my office. If you don't think that's too much."
"The Ministry isn't exactly a place where I'd like to spend a lot of time."
Ron nodded, knowing Draco had had to spend several days being interviewed and cross-examined about his role in the War before he was allowed his rights and privileges again. Potter had even returned his wand to him, thankfully without Rita Skeeter and a media circus. "Owl me the details. Any day but Monday. Or Wednesday."
"All right." Ron hesitated, and Draco feared their parting would go on all afternoon if he didn't just go ahead and leave.
"Bye, Ron. I'm taking the umbrella. Were you going to Apparate?"
"Yeah. Do you mind walking me over there to those trees?"
Away from any passers-by, Ron Apparated back to his flat, presumably. Draco did as well, casting a drying spell on the umbrella and putting on water to boil for his tea once he was at home. It felt strange to realise that except for a couple of hours the day before, he'd been gone since Friday late afternoon. He'd spent nearly the entirety of his weekend with Ron, and the time had flown by. It was astonishing.
Once made, he took his tea outside under the overhang on his porch and drank it while having a cigarette. It occurred to him that he should check up on his owl, Gabriel, at the owlery at the Manor. He found himself yawning, the late nights of conversation and sex catching up with him. He put up a set of low-grade wards and locked his flat, made certain the ringer on his mobile was off, and crawled contentedly into his bed for a nap. He drifted off in minutes.
* * * * *
On to part four
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-09-30 02:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-30 04:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-26 07:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-26 10:57 pm (UTC)an embarrassing amounta goodly number of R/D stories over several years. I'm thrilled that you're either rereading them or newly discovering them! Enthusiastic readers are welcome at any time. :D(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-26 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-26 06:10 pm (UTC)