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sexyscholarSo for the last dra(w)bble duel over at the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ficadron, I wrote six drabbles. SIX. I doubt we'll win, we were 15 points behind, but still. Never let it be said that I didn't fight for my team. :p The prompt for all of these was "Trick or Treat."
Title: Blurring Party Lines
Rating: PG
Word Count: 498
Draco spotted the hero's quartet: Potter and the Weasley girl standing with Granger and a swarthy bloke that obviously wasn't Ron Weasley. The absence of the ginger piqued his impish curiosity, and Draco decided to poke his nose where he knew it didn't belong.
A waiter dressed as a sultan passed by, balancing a tray of exotic looking cocktails, and Draco snagged one of them. He took a swallow of the drink and made his way to the group.
"Potter," he said as he drew closer. Granger and the Weaslette both rolled their heavily made up eyes while the mousy-haired man gave him a strained but polite, "Malfoy."
"How are things?"
"Things are...well," Harry answered, looking rather bemused.
Draco nodded, not really interested in the answer. "Nice to see that you've taken time from your busy hero schedule to mingle with common wizarding folk."
"No one is above anyone else here, Malfoy," Ginny broke in.
"Of course not," Draco seethed. "I see you're one member short -- where's the Weasel King?"
"Why do you care?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't. I just found it interesting that he wasn't crowding around the lot of you. Once upon a time, you were joined at each other's hip."
"Look, Malfoy, we're...uh...we'll see you around, yeah?" Harry took his girl by the hand and issued a curt nod. Granger and the rest seemed only too relieved to follow his lead, and they all left, disappearing into the crowd.
Draco chuckled to himself. "Was it something I said?" he asked aloud.
"No, they just don't like the smell of ferrets."
He turned on his heel at the familiar voice to find a very tall and very grown Ron Weasley standing behind him, and his stomach lurched.
"Weasel...I was just asking after you." His voice sounded higher than it should've.
Ron arched an eyebrow. "What are you up to, Malfoy?"
"Why do you automatically assume that I'm drumming up trouble? Is it impossible that I simply wanted to exchange pleasantries?"
"Yes, considering that you're a wholly unpleasant person."
Ron was dressed as some sort of Asian figure, wearing a bright red cheongsam embroidered with a carefully detailed crane at its side in white and gold thread. The top was sleeveless, showing off his scarred and muscled arms. Draco had to concede, the redhead looked good. There was a sudden overflow of saliva in his mouth, and he had to swallow it down hard.
"I'm just trying to have a bit of fun. This is a party, right?"
The other man folded his arms and eyed him warily. "Well, I suppose there's enough high-profile people here that you'll behave yourself."
"Come on, Weasley. This is Halloween, and it's not necessarily all about tricks." He took a hefty sip of his drink. "There can be some treats too." Draco felt his face grow red at that -- it sounded like a pick-up line, and he certainly hadn't meant it that way.
Had he?
Title: Trick, My Treat
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 498
March 1st.
Draco notes the date on the calendar and a smile curls at the corner of his mouth that he can't quite surpress. He knows he shouldn't expect him, but the hope dawns in him nevertheless, and he proceeds to get ready.
He begins with a bath, frothy with scented bubbles and almost too hot, leaving a flush all over his normally pale skin. Draco rests his head against the back of the tub and thinks of him: the way he watches him as though he's the only man in the room and the way Draco's skin tingles when he does.
The memory transmits a direct signal to Draco's latent arousal, and his cock begins to harden. He immediately sets to stroking it, sending shivers all over his body despite the steam billowing around him. Draco thinks of his eyes, blue and intense, and he arcs, his hips pushing up into his tightening fist.
"God," he whimpers as he turns his face into his shoulder. "Wish this was you."
As good as it feels, Draco doesn't want to come now, just in case, and grudgingly opens his hand. Once he's reasonably calm again, he pulls himself out of the tub and dries off.
Draco starts to dress. The knickers come first, along with the garter belt. The slide of satin against his skin stirs his prick again, and he takes special care to tuck it inside. The corset is next, and Draco wraps it around his torso, casting a spell on the lacings to tie themselves, pulling it snug. He sits at his dressing table and rolls black silk stockings up each leg, fastening them to the small clips hanging from the belt and then slides into his heeled leather boots. The last piece is a thin leather collar: this is his favorite part and Draco gets a second little shudder as he pins it around his neck.
~*~*~
He steps out into the main room. As usual, all eyes go to him, even if only for a moment. Draco notices but doesn't care -- he's too busy searching the room for him.
He doesn't see him immediately, and he walks to the bar with the hope that he's made a reservation when the door opens, bringing in a little of March's blustery wind. He turns and sees Ron standing in the alcove, his red hair wild and wet from rain.
Draco smiles and moves over to him - his heart knocking hard in his chest - and wraps his arms about his neck, kissing him on the mouth. There are a few gasps around them: staff isn't permitted to kiss their clients...but this is a special night, and Draco doesn't care.
Ron's eyes widen, but he doesn't pull away. He envelopes Draco in his arms and kisses him back.
"Oh my," Ron says, tucking a finger under Draco's collar. "How much will that cost me?"
"Nothing," Draco purrs, leading him up the staircase to his quarters. "My treat."
All mine.
Title: Wager
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 497
"You couldn't've come up with something a little more dignified?" Draco whined.
Ron covered his mouth and coughed.
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing," Ron said, not quite suppressing a laugh. "I'm just surprised, is all."
Draco was seething. "We had a bet."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually honour it!"
"I didn't think I'd lose. Who could know that after a million bloody years, the Cannons would actually win a match?!" He stamped his feet, tugging at the short, pleated skirt he'd been forced to wear, and then frowned at the tassles that bobbed on his clean, white trainers.
"I don't think it's going to get any longer, Malfoy."
Draco scowled and turned to look at himself in the mirror. To his surprise - and a little dismay - he found that the cheerleader's kit was rather fetching on him. He shimmied his narrow hips and felt the sway of cool cotton against his thighs. Ron was peering over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot.
He narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Ron folded his arms over his rugby jersey. "In more ways than one," he said.
"Pervert."
Ron set his hands on Draco's bare waist and spun him around. "And proud of it." Without another word, the redhead was on his knees, nuzzling his face against the smooth nylon knickers Draco was wearing. He poked out his tongue and licked a hot stripe over the material and Draco cried out.
The other man looked up. "You know, you've got the pom-poms," Ron suggested, rolling Draco's underwear down his thighs. "Cheer me on." He licked the head of Draco's cock once before opening his mouth around it, easing down to its base and giving his lover a blowjob that gods would envy.
~*~*~
The next day, Draco was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of strong, black coffee when a large grey owl dropped off the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. As he read a column on the front page, the smile etched on his face from the superior shagging he'd received the night before slowly morphed into incredulous anger.
"RON!"
The redhead shuffled into the room, his hair sticking out at odd points, with new scratches running along both of his shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? What is the meaning of this?" Draco held up the paper and jerked a finger at the column titled, 'Coach says Cannons Won't Pack It in After Last Night's Loss.'
"Oh. That."
"But the p-paper yesterday--!"
An impish grin lit up his face. "Was a little something I asked George to whip up for me after you made that bet."
Draco was flabbergasted. His Ron, his Gryffindor, had flat-out lied. He was mad, sure, but he'd be lying if he denied that he was also a little impressed. "You tricked me," he said, his tone softening a little. "You lost."
"Well," Ron replied, stroking Draco's cheek. "Judging by the broken state of our bed, I'd say we're both winners."
Title: Spirit of the Season
Rating: G
Word Count: 499
Warning: Extremely sweet fluff could make your teeth rot.
The three children bounded up the walk to the first house on the street. Rose and Scorpius were hand in hand and thicker than thieves. Hugo, who refused to hold Ron's hand, ran behind them on stubby toddler legs.
"Now," Ron said to them as they approached the door, "you remember what to say, right?"
Rose lifted her eye patch and nodded, her unruly red curls bouncing around her heart-shaped face. "Of course, Daddy! You ready, Scorpius?"
The other boy nodded back. His hair, normally as blond as his father's, had been glamoured a rich black, completing his vampire costume.
"Trick or treat, smell my feet," they began in sing-song voices.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco mumbled, a few steps behind. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Hugo stopped running, his bright blue eyes brimming with hurt tears. "Way fo' me!" he cried out. He began to run again, almost stumbling over the tail of his lizard costume. Draco reached down and caught him.
"Don't worry, they'll wait," he soothed, pulling a crisp handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping the boy's eyes. "Won't you?" he said loudly, looking at the older two.
Whines of 'Aww, Dad!' and 'Uncle Draco!' rang into the brisk air, but Draco gave them a look that Ron knew all too well.
"Just wait for your brother, alright?" he said. "Despite what you think, it won't hurt you. On the other hand, though, Draco might."
Scorpius and Rose exchanged a quick glance. "Come on, Hugo," the girl called, holding out her hand for her brother. "Good and loud, okay?"
All three children took deep breaths and began the Hallowe'en chant at full volume. "Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don't, we don't care -- we'll pull down your underwear!"
Draco sidled up to Ron. "Do they have to say that? The foot-smelling part is awful enough, but really, pulling down underwear?"
The door opened and an elderly woman holding a large wicker basket of various sweets smiled, told the children how lovely their costumes were, and proceeded to dispense an obscene amount of candy into their proffered cloth sacks.
"I hope we've got plenty of potions to cure stomachaches -- they're going to eat themselves sick," Draco said.
"Oh, come on. Where's your Hallowe'en spirit, Malfoy?"
"Hallowe'en spirit? It's in a bottle of pumpkin wine that I've instructed Milly to keep chilled until I get home." Draco didn't move any closer, but he slowly reached out and touched the back of Ron's hand with his finger. "Join me later?"
Ron tilted his head. "I don't think Hermione would appreciate me just dropping off her sugar-crazed children and then slinking off."
"They can sleep at the Manor," Draco said. "Scorpius would love that."
"You've got room for all of them?"
Draco watched the three children as they peeked into each other's sacks and chittered excitedly. He smiled. "I'm sure I can fit them in," he replied.
Title: Sweets for the Sweet
Rating: R
Word Count: 497
A/N: A sequel to "Spirit of the Season"
Draco relaxed in the study, fully stretched out on his overstuffed couch. He was nursing his second goblet of pumpkin wine while he waited for Ron to finish tucking in the children. When he finally came downstairs, he had all three candy sacks in tow. "I had to take them away," he explained. "I'm officially their least favourite person."
"Nice to know that they've bonded over a common enemy."
Ron eased down on the couch, lifting Draco's legs and resting them back on his lap. He gestured to the goblet of wine with a tilt of his head. "Any of that for me?"
The blond sat up, holding the cup out for Ron, and watched as the other man pressed his lips to the glass. The angle from which he drank was awkward, and as a result, a little of the wine spilled from the glass and trailed down Ron's throat. Draco followed the rivulet with his eyes as it moved over his bobbing Adam's apple. Watching him drink sent prickles of heat through his chest, and he felt his nipples draw tight under his shirt.
"Mmm," Ron said as he pulled away, licking his lips. "Thanks."
Draco, who had suddenly lost his voice, simply nodded in response.
"Tonight was fun, don't you think?" Ron didn't seem to be looking for an answer: his hand was moving on its own path along the length of Draco's leg.
"It was," Draco answered, his body growing warmer as heat spread through his veins. He laid his head back against the arm of the sofa and flexed into Ron's welcome touch.
"You were so good with Rose and Hugo...you deserve your own treat." Ron gently pulled Draco's legs apart and manouvered himself between them. He laid down against the blond and kissed him on his jaw and neck. "Got an idea," he said suddenly, and pulled back. He reached into one of the sacks and pulled out a chocolate cupcake.
"Wassat?" Draco asked, his voice slightly slurred.
The other man bit into the sweet and showed it to Draco. There was a dollop of thick white creme inside. "Marshmallow." He squeezed the cake and some of the goop squirted out onto his fingers. He rubbed it on Draco's neck and then licked it off.
Draco groaned and dropped the goblet -- the leftover drink gurgled out onto the carpet, soaking it. He wrapped his arms around Ron's waist and wrenched his shirt out of his trousers, scrabbling to touch his skin.
Ron canted his hips downward and Draco keened at the feeling of their erections against each other. "Upstairs?" he asked breathlessly.
The ginger shook his head. "Gonna have you right here, all splayed out...then we'll head upstairs."
Draco's mind reeled at the image that formed in his mind, of his naked legs spread wide and dangling while Ron fucked him into the couch.
"If it earns me more nights like this," he moaned, "I'll build the kids an amusement park."
Title: Behind the Mask
Rating: PG-13?
Word Count: 157
A/N: My personal favorite. I tried a very different style (for me) on this one, and I really liked the way it came out.
I watch you.
I hide in plain sight, behind my mask.
People sway and waltz between us, and I see nothing but you.
I need you.
You stand alone. And you stand apart.
My fiery king. If you only knew how...
...how my heart twists with want for you.
In my mind, fantasy takes form and you see my truth.
You stand before me. Against me.
I crave you.
Your fingertips on my skin. They melt me, lick away the ice like fire.
We kiss. Worlds collide and shatter, break and burn.
I hold on, lest my knees betray me.
I greet your fire with my own, dormant until now.
I want you.
You push, I pull. We moan and shake and sigh.
And I am born again.
Tears roll down my cheek, and they bring back the roar of reality.
I wipe them away from behind my mask, so you will never know.
I love you.
Concrit is ♥♥♥♥♥
ficadron, I wrote six drabbles. SIX. I doubt we'll win, we were 15 points behind, but still. Never let it be said that I didn't fight for my team. :p The prompt for all of these was "Trick or Treat."Title: Blurring Party Lines
Rating: PG
Word Count: 498
Draco spotted the hero's quartet: Potter and the Weasley girl standing with Granger and a swarthy bloke that obviously wasn't Ron Weasley. The absence of the ginger piqued his impish curiosity, and Draco decided to poke his nose where he knew it didn't belong.
A waiter dressed as a sultan passed by, balancing a tray of exotic looking cocktails, and Draco snagged one of them. He took a swallow of the drink and made his way to the group.
"Potter," he said as he drew closer. Granger and the Weaslette both rolled their heavily made up eyes while the mousy-haired man gave him a strained but polite, "Malfoy."
"How are things?"
"Things are...well," Harry answered, looking rather bemused.
Draco nodded, not really interested in the answer. "Nice to see that you've taken time from your busy hero schedule to mingle with common wizarding folk."
"No one is above anyone else here, Malfoy," Ginny broke in.
"Of course not," Draco seethed. "I see you're one member short -- where's the Weasel King?"
"Why do you care?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't. I just found it interesting that he wasn't crowding around the lot of you. Once upon a time, you were joined at each other's hip."
"Look, Malfoy, we're...uh...we'll see you around, yeah?" Harry took his girl by the hand and issued a curt nod. Granger and the rest seemed only too relieved to follow his lead, and they all left, disappearing into the crowd.
Draco chuckled to himself. "Was it something I said?" he asked aloud.
"No, they just don't like the smell of ferrets."
He turned on his heel at the familiar voice to find a very tall and very grown Ron Weasley standing behind him, and his stomach lurched.
"Weasel...I was just asking after you." His voice sounded higher than it should've.
Ron arched an eyebrow. "What are you up to, Malfoy?"
"Why do you automatically assume that I'm drumming up trouble? Is it impossible that I simply wanted to exchange pleasantries?"
"Yes, considering that you're a wholly unpleasant person."
Ron was dressed as some sort of Asian figure, wearing a bright red cheongsam embroidered with a carefully detailed crane at its side in white and gold thread. The top was sleeveless, showing off his scarred and muscled arms. Draco had to concede, the redhead looked good. There was a sudden overflow of saliva in his mouth, and he had to swallow it down hard.
"I'm just trying to have a bit of fun. This is a party, right?"
The other man folded his arms and eyed him warily. "Well, I suppose there's enough high-profile people here that you'll behave yourself."
"Come on, Weasley. This is Halloween, and it's not necessarily all about tricks." He took a hefty sip of his drink. "There can be some treats too." Draco felt his face grow red at that -- it sounded like a pick-up line, and he certainly hadn't meant it that way.
Had he?
Title: Trick, My Treat
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 498
March 1st.
Draco notes the date on the calendar and a smile curls at the corner of his mouth that he can't quite surpress. He knows he shouldn't expect him, but the hope dawns in him nevertheless, and he proceeds to get ready.
He begins with a bath, frothy with scented bubbles and almost too hot, leaving a flush all over his normally pale skin. Draco rests his head against the back of the tub and thinks of him: the way he watches him as though he's the only man in the room and the way Draco's skin tingles when he does.
The memory transmits a direct signal to Draco's latent arousal, and his cock begins to harden. He immediately sets to stroking it, sending shivers all over his body despite the steam billowing around him. Draco thinks of his eyes, blue and intense, and he arcs, his hips pushing up into his tightening fist.
"God," he whimpers as he turns his face into his shoulder. "Wish this was you."
As good as it feels, Draco doesn't want to come now, just in case, and grudgingly opens his hand. Once he's reasonably calm again, he pulls himself out of the tub and dries off.
Draco starts to dress. The knickers come first, along with the garter belt. The slide of satin against his skin stirs his prick again, and he takes special care to tuck it inside. The corset is next, and Draco wraps it around his torso, casting a spell on the lacings to tie themselves, pulling it snug. He sits at his dressing table and rolls black silk stockings up each leg, fastening them to the small clips hanging from the belt and then slides into his heeled leather boots. The last piece is a thin leather collar: this is his favorite part and Draco gets a second little shudder as he pins it around his neck.
~*~*~
He steps out into the main room. As usual, all eyes go to him, even if only for a moment. Draco notices but doesn't care -- he's too busy searching the room for him.
He doesn't see him immediately, and he walks to the bar with the hope that he's made a reservation when the door opens, bringing in a little of March's blustery wind. He turns and sees Ron standing in the alcove, his red hair wild and wet from rain.
Draco smiles and moves over to him - his heart knocking hard in his chest - and wraps his arms about his neck, kissing him on the mouth. There are a few gasps around them: staff isn't permitted to kiss their clients...but this is a special night, and Draco doesn't care.
Ron's eyes widen, but he doesn't pull away. He envelopes Draco in his arms and kisses him back.
"Oh my," Ron says, tucking a finger under Draco's collar. "How much will that cost me?"
"Nothing," Draco purrs, leading him up the staircase to his quarters. "My treat."
All mine.
Title: Wager
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 497
"You couldn't've come up with something a little more dignified?" Draco whined.
Ron covered his mouth and coughed.
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing," Ron said, not quite suppressing a laugh. "I'm just surprised, is all."
Draco was seething. "We had a bet."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually honour it!"
"I didn't think I'd lose. Who could know that after a million bloody years, the Cannons would actually win a match?!" He stamped his feet, tugging at the short, pleated skirt he'd been forced to wear, and then frowned at the tassles that bobbed on his clean, white trainers.
"I don't think it's going to get any longer, Malfoy."
Draco scowled and turned to look at himself in the mirror. To his surprise - and a little dismay - he found that the cheerleader's kit was rather fetching on him. He shimmied his narrow hips and felt the sway of cool cotton against his thighs. Ron was peering over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot.
He narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Ron folded his arms over his rugby jersey. "In more ways than one," he said.
"Pervert."
Ron set his hands on Draco's bare waist and spun him around. "And proud of it." Without another word, the redhead was on his knees, nuzzling his face against the smooth nylon knickers Draco was wearing. He poked out his tongue and licked a hot stripe over the material and Draco cried out.
The other man looked up. "You know, you've got the pom-poms," Ron suggested, rolling Draco's underwear down his thighs. "Cheer me on." He licked the head of Draco's cock once before opening his mouth around it, easing down to its base and giving his lover a blowjob that gods would envy.
~*~*~
The next day, Draco was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of strong, black coffee when a large grey owl dropped off the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. As he read a column on the front page, the smile etched on his face from the superior shagging he'd received the night before slowly morphed into incredulous anger.
"RON!"
The redhead shuffled into the room, his hair sticking out at odd points, with new scratches running along both of his shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? What is the meaning of this?" Draco held up the paper and jerked a finger at the column titled, 'Coach says Cannons Won't Pack It in After Last Night's Loss.'
"Oh. That."
"But the p-paper yesterday--!"
An impish grin lit up his face. "Was a little something I asked George to whip up for me after you made that bet."
Draco was flabbergasted. His Ron, his Gryffindor, had flat-out lied. He was mad, sure, but he'd be lying if he denied that he was also a little impressed. "You tricked me," he said, his tone softening a little. "You lost."
"Well," Ron replied, stroking Draco's cheek. "Judging by the broken state of our bed, I'd say we're both winners."
Title: Spirit of the Season
Rating: G
Word Count: 499
Warning: Extremely sweet fluff could make your teeth rot.
The three children bounded up the walk to the first house on the street. Rose and Scorpius were hand in hand and thicker than thieves. Hugo, who refused to hold Ron's hand, ran behind them on stubby toddler legs.
"Now," Ron said to them as they approached the door, "you remember what to say, right?"
Rose lifted her eye patch and nodded, her unruly red curls bouncing around her heart-shaped face. "Of course, Daddy! You ready, Scorpius?"
The other boy nodded back. His hair, normally as blond as his father's, had been glamoured a rich black, completing his vampire costume.
"Trick or treat, smell my feet," they began in sing-song voices.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco mumbled, a few steps behind. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Hugo stopped running, his bright blue eyes brimming with hurt tears. "Way fo' me!" he cried out. He began to run again, almost stumbling over the tail of his lizard costume. Draco reached down and caught him.
"Don't worry, they'll wait," he soothed, pulling a crisp handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping the boy's eyes. "Won't you?" he said loudly, looking at the older two.
Whines of 'Aww, Dad!' and 'Uncle Draco!' rang into the brisk air, but Draco gave them a look that Ron knew all too well.
"Just wait for your brother, alright?" he said. "Despite what you think, it won't hurt you. On the other hand, though, Draco might."
Scorpius and Rose exchanged a quick glance. "Come on, Hugo," the girl called, holding out her hand for her brother. "Good and loud, okay?"
All three children took deep breaths and began the Hallowe'en chant at full volume. "Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don't, we don't care -- we'll pull down your underwear!"
Draco sidled up to Ron. "Do they have to say that? The foot-smelling part is awful enough, but really, pulling down underwear?"
The door opened and an elderly woman holding a large wicker basket of various sweets smiled, told the children how lovely their costumes were, and proceeded to dispense an obscene amount of candy into their proffered cloth sacks.
"I hope we've got plenty of potions to cure stomachaches -- they're going to eat themselves sick," Draco said.
"Oh, come on. Where's your Hallowe'en spirit, Malfoy?"
"Hallowe'en spirit? It's in a bottle of pumpkin wine that I've instructed Milly to keep chilled until I get home." Draco didn't move any closer, but he slowly reached out and touched the back of Ron's hand with his finger. "Join me later?"
Ron tilted his head. "I don't think Hermione would appreciate me just dropping off her sugar-crazed children and then slinking off."
"They can sleep at the Manor," Draco said. "Scorpius would love that."
"You've got room for all of them?"
Draco watched the three children as they peeked into each other's sacks and chittered excitedly. He smiled. "I'm sure I can fit them in," he replied.
Title: Sweets for the Sweet
Rating: R
Word Count: 497
A/N: A sequel to "Spirit of the Season"
Draco relaxed in the study, fully stretched out on his overstuffed couch. He was nursing his second goblet of pumpkin wine while he waited for Ron to finish tucking in the children. When he finally came downstairs, he had all three candy sacks in tow. "I had to take them away," he explained. "I'm officially their least favourite person."
"Nice to know that they've bonded over a common enemy."
Ron eased down on the couch, lifting Draco's legs and resting them back on his lap. He gestured to the goblet of wine with a tilt of his head. "Any of that for me?"
The blond sat up, holding the cup out for Ron, and watched as the other man pressed his lips to the glass. The angle from which he drank was awkward, and as a result, a little of the wine spilled from the glass and trailed down Ron's throat. Draco followed the rivulet with his eyes as it moved over his bobbing Adam's apple. Watching him drink sent prickles of heat through his chest, and he felt his nipples draw tight under his shirt.
"Mmm," Ron said as he pulled away, licking his lips. "Thanks."
Draco, who had suddenly lost his voice, simply nodded in response.
"Tonight was fun, don't you think?" Ron didn't seem to be looking for an answer: his hand was moving on its own path along the length of Draco's leg.
"It was," Draco answered, his body growing warmer as heat spread through his veins. He laid his head back against the arm of the sofa and flexed into Ron's welcome touch.
"You were so good with Rose and Hugo...you deserve your own treat." Ron gently pulled Draco's legs apart and manouvered himself between them. He laid down against the blond and kissed him on his jaw and neck. "Got an idea," he said suddenly, and pulled back. He reached into one of the sacks and pulled out a chocolate cupcake.
"Wassat?" Draco asked, his voice slightly slurred.
The other man bit into the sweet and showed it to Draco. There was a dollop of thick white creme inside. "Marshmallow." He squeezed the cake and some of the goop squirted out onto his fingers. He rubbed it on Draco's neck and then licked it off.
Draco groaned and dropped the goblet -- the leftover drink gurgled out onto the carpet, soaking it. He wrapped his arms around Ron's waist and wrenched his shirt out of his trousers, scrabbling to touch his skin.
Ron canted his hips downward and Draco keened at the feeling of their erections against each other. "Upstairs?" he asked breathlessly.
The ginger shook his head. "Gonna have you right here, all splayed out...then we'll head upstairs."
Draco's mind reeled at the image that formed in his mind, of his naked legs spread wide and dangling while Ron fucked him into the couch.
"If it earns me more nights like this," he moaned, "I'll build the kids an amusement park."
Title: Behind the Mask
Rating: PG-13?
Word Count: 157
A/N: My personal favorite. I tried a very different style (for me) on this one, and I really liked the way it came out.
I watch you.
I hide in plain sight, behind my mask.
People sway and waltz between us, and I see nothing but you.
I need you.
You stand alone. And you stand apart.
My fiery king. If you only knew how...
...how my heart twists with want for you.
In my mind, fantasy takes form and you see my truth.
You stand before me. Against me.
I crave you.
Your fingertips on my skin. They melt me, lick away the ice like fire.
We kiss. Worlds collide and shatter, break and burn.
I hold on, lest my knees betray me.
I greet your fire with my own, dormant until now.
I want you.
You push, I pull. We moan and shake and sigh.
And I am born again.
Tears roll down my cheek, and they bring back the roar of reality.
I wipe them away from behind my mask, so you will never know.
I love you.
Concrit is ♥♥♥♥♥
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 08:10 am (UTC)Also add the tears... I've been crying off and on for the last two days and just when I thought I was done... THIS! Worth it though...
no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 10:52 pm (UTC)And you are AMAZING. You came up with this whole idea, remember? ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 02:00 pm (UTC)Also! It will definitely be late because I have much to do, but would you like to prompt me for a birthday fic?
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Date: 2009-10-25 02:59 pm (UTC)Birthday fic by you? For me? safdslkjl
Um. I. Gosh. Well, lately I've developed a thing for Draco in knickers, so something that involved that would be hot smex. XD
Or you know. Whatever tickles your fancy. Because your stuff is AMAZING.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-25 03:59 pm (UTC)