Title: A Dragon’s Calculations
Author: elfflame
Characters: Severus/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: m/m sex and a bit of fluff? :P
Kinks chosen: Brothels
Word Count: 2938
Summary: Severus comes to “rescue” Draco after the war is over.
Author's notes: inspired by a conversation with nishizono after reading her May D_D. Because there’s just not enough Snaco in the Fandom. Thank you to ceria_taliesin for the betaing and bunnying help. :D



“Dai, Liselle wants to see you.”

Draco looked up from the book he was reading. “Did she say what about?” he asked May, who was already moving past him to head for the bar. They hadn’t opened yet, so this was their only downtime before customers started appearing to actually relax before they were required to put themselves on display.

“Nope. Just that she needed a quick chat with you about something.” May said, pouring herself a drink before settling down at the bar to sip at it.

Draco sighed. Having been here for over a year, he’d generally made peace with the girls who came to work here. Most of them wouldn’t have been of interest to his clients, anyway. But there were still some who felt he stole their thunder, and he was used to Liselle calling him to her office to deal with the latest grudge. Didn’t mean he liked it, but her way of dealing with it was better than it blowing up in his face because he couldn’t be bothered to handle it.

He closed his book and set it on the shelf, then made his way to the Madam’s office. Hopefully this time it would be an easy fix. He really needed the distraction of something different—something new—today. Things had been rather routine of late, and being barred from taking a new client today would definitely leave him feeling the need to pace like a caged tiger. Maybe it was time to put his plans of starting his own House into motion?

He knocked at the door, and heard Liselle call out, “Enter.”

“You wanted to see me?” Draco asked when he’d closed the door behind him.

“Dai. Good. I’m glad you didn’t waste time,” Liselle said, standing up from behind her desk. “I’ve had a request for someone who matches your description. He’s not your normal type, but…well, I thought I’d see if you were interested, at least.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, but internally, he was prepared for flight. He might have managed more than a year here in Vienna with no one from England the wiser, but that didn’t mean that the Death Eaters and the Aurors had given up looking. “Oh?”

“Mmm. An older man? Slender and dark. Not particularly attractive. Are you willing to give him a look, at least?”

Biting back his panic, Draco nodded. The description could fit plenty of people. It probably wasn’t anyone he knew. Liselle had a viewing window that meant the patron wouldn’t even get a glimpse of him, and he could decide without danger to himself whether or not it was time to run again.

She pulled open the curtain that covered the one-way window into the waiting-room she kept for special requests and off-hour visitors. Draco stepped forward, and upon seeing the man standing stiffly in the centre of the room, his panic faded to be replaced with a shiver of excitement. Severus Snape.

The man seemed barely older than he’d looked when he’d sent Draco through the Floo to France. Then again, the man had looked older than his father ever since he could remember. In fact, now, he almost looked younger than he recalled.

But his affect on Draco was the same as it had always been. Even now, he could feel his body tightening and his cock shifting with interest. Draco might have been able to have anyone he wanted, but there was only one person he’d ever wanted: Severus Snape.

He turned to Liselle, who was watching him, and managed to swallow the amused smirk that was trying to bloom on his face. “What exactly did he ask for?”

“He said he was looking for someone. Young, blond, and pale. Beyond that, he didn’t say much. Says he wants to talk,” she added with an amused twist to her lips. ‘Talking’ was usually the more distinguished clients’ way of saying they wanted a boy but didn’t want to be known to be interested in them. There was no way for Liselle to know that for once, their client might actually mean it.

“I’ll see him. Give me twenty?”

“Of course. I’ll have one of the girls bring him some refreshments, then send him up.”

“Perfect.” Draco hurried to his room, then began to prepare. He had to look his absolute best this time. Severus might not know it yet, but he was going to get just what Liselle had assumed he’d come for. Draco had waited too long for it not to happen.

Now he just had to convince Severus of that fact.

The nice thing about being part of a House was that you had a safe place to store your things, and could save up for better clothing to attract the customers. Of course, Draco had started out with a very important asset. His paleness. Even in Austria, he stood out. Of course, there were blonds here, but no one near his coloring, with his milk-white skin without a blemish (well, except for one, which he kept magically hidden from his clients), his cornsilk hair and icy blue eyes. Even on the street, he’d gotten attention. Here in the House, it had meant the pick of the clientele that came for boys—usually older, rich men who had wives and families at home, and who couldn’t bear the thought of giving up the lifestyle they were accustomed to.

It was a surprisingly good life, for being a whore. Not what he’d been raised to be, though the manners and breeding from being born and raised a Malfoy seemed to translate amazingly well.

Now he pulled out an outfit that never failed to garner attention, though few would see the colors for what they were. He couldn’t wait to see Severus’s reaction to it. The trousers were of a dark Slytherin green silk, the waistline low around his hips and trimmed in silver. The top was barely even enough to be called a vest. Soft nearly-black green velvet embroidered with silver serpents across it. His hair, which had grown to his shoulders, he pulled back in a ponytail after brushing it enough to make it glisten.

His skin was powdered with a concoction he’d made himself that contained a slight vanilla scent and gave his skin a bit of sparkle. Then he highlighted his eyes with a bit of kohl, and settled on his side on his bed, facing the door, so that he could see Severus’s reaction when he entered.

Unfortunately, Severus was as good as ever at hiding his reaction. The door opened a moment later, and it was only after closing it behind him and taking a quick magical scan of the room did he turn to Draco. “Get dressed. The Dark Lord is gone. It’s time to come home.”

Draco scowled. This was hardly the reaction he’d wanted. Severus made it sound as though Draco had just been playing with friends and outstayed his welcome. “Excuse me?” he asked, sitting up.

“You heard me, Draco. Pack anything you need to take. I promised I’d bring you back.”

“Promised who?” Draco asked, half alarmed, half annoyed. “Father and mother have already paid for my crimes. Who else is there to need me?”

“We can discuss that once we get on the train, Draco, now start packing, and put on warm clothes. Those look as though you’ll freeze in them the moment you step outside.”

Well, at least that showed he’d actually looked, but Draco still wasn’t pleased with this rushing about.

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on, Severus. I’ve already dropped my life once before because of the war. I don’t intend to do it a second time if I can help it.” If his life was in danger he would, of course, but anything else would need to be negotiated.

The glower Severus turned on him was one he had always reserved exclusively for particularly annoying Hufflepuffs and any sort of Gryffindors back when Draco had been in school. But he wasn’t in school any longer, and he wasn’t going to let the man push him around.

“Draco, you can’t possibly tell me you like making a living this way,” he said, his glower becoming a sneer as he looked around the room. “Being a plaything for others?”

“As opposed to being a pawn in a war so that I can be sacrificed? Oh, yes.” He stood up and moved to stand in front of Severus. “I do good business here, Severus. And I’m surprisingly happy. I can afford almost everything I want, and soon I’ll even be able to afford my own House. Why should I leave?”

Obviously, Severus hadn’t expected him to want to stay. “Draco….”

“No. Tell me,” Draco said, almost urgently now. “Why should I bother going back? There’s nothing left for me there. Is the Manor even still standing? And exactly how long would I last before Ministry had me sentenced to be kissed? Hm?”

Severus scowled again. “I gave your mother my word that I would see you safely home once Potter won, Draco. And you know I do not break my vows lightly. You have a duty to your family to return and begin again.”

“You mean a duty to be sent to Azkaban for the rest of my life? No thank you. I’m comfortable here. I have a new life. I don’t need my old one any longer. There’s nothing left to draw me back.” He desperately wanted Severus to put himself forward now. To say that he wanted Draco to come back. To be with him. There might be no one else in England to draw Draco back, but if Severus asked as a favour for himself, Draco knew he would go. And not simply because he owed the man.

“Nothing?” Severus seemed to read the very slight hesitation in Draco’s words. “Surely there must be something you miss? Blaise? Pansy? Both made it through the war. Surely you would like to see them?”

“For the five minutes before I was sent to Azkaban? No thank you. I’d rather be Dai Jones for the rest of my life, thank you very much. At least here, I know what to expect, and how to respond. Should I show you the skills I learned? How I can make grown men grovel at my feet, if I want?”

He pressed a hand to Severus’s chest, then let it slide down, cupping his groin through the thick wool trousers he wore. “The first night on the street here, I found out just how talented I was. Men pay good money just to watch me.” He squeezed gently, feeling gratified at the physical reaction he was getting, even if Severus looked as though he’d just bitten into a lemon.

“Draco…”

“No. You’re here. If you don’t want it, then leave. I’ll find another client tonight who does. But I’m not leaving.” He was amazed that his voice hadn’t started to shake, yet. So close. And yet so far.

Severus caught his hand, though Draco was pleased to note that he didn’t pull it away. “You hardly need to pretend for me, Draco. I don’t need to be impressed. I’ve already paid for a night with you. I’m not a client you need to seduce. The money is yours regardless.”

Draco laughed. “Always so noble. Tell me, why didn’t you get sorted into Gryffindor yourself? You always seemed to have that streak of righteousness they all possess,” he said with a sneer.

“There is no need to insult me, Draco.” This time, he stepped back, his hand pulling Draco’s from his body. But Draco’d felt the reaction. However calm the man might appear to be, he wanted this.

“No? Never mind that you won’t take what you want? What you paid for? Perhaps I should just…give you a show, then?” He stepped back, settling on the bed once more, and lowered his trousers. Leaning back on one hand, he began to stroke himself. He’d done this enough with other clients. Men who hadn’t quite reached the point where they felt they could take what they wanted. “What do you think, Severus? Am I as beautiful as you always pictured?”

At first Severus stared in fascinated horror, then he turned away. “Draco… Stop this.”

“No. I felt your reaction. You want this. Me. Why won’t you take it?” Draco had never pushed his clients before, but this time was different from the others. He’d never wanted them.

“No. You are my friend’s son, and my pupil—”

“I haven’t been your student for more than a year, Severus—”

“And you are too young to truly understand—”

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think I’ve lived here in a brothel and stayed innocent? Not that I ever was to begin with…”

“You are still young, Draco…”

Draco stood, stepping out of his trousers, then advancing on the other man. “I haven’t been young since I took the Mark, Severus. I know what I want. Do you?”

Severus backed away now, but Draco followed. “Stop this, Draco. I have no wish to force you into anything.”

“No one in this room is forcing anyone, Severus. I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember. Do you recall how I used to crawl into your lap when you visited? Of course, then I just wanted to own you. I didn’t know the difference between a plaything and a person. Didn’t know what two men could do together.” He closed on the older man, his hands going to the buttons of his coat. “Who do you think I think of when they take me? You’re what has kept me going, Severus. I want you. Just you,” he whispered. “Please.” He’d never so much as thought the word before, but this time, it slipped from his lips so easily. And if it helped…

Apparently something he’d said had finally convinced Severus. Whether it was the plea or the rest of his needy speech, suddenly Severus’s lips were covering his own, and he moaned as the other man helped him tear off his clothes. “Yes,” Severus growled, pushing them both back towards the bed.

In a matter of seconds, all their clothes were discarded, and Draco found himself under Severus on the bed. It was better than he’d ever imagined. The long, thin fingers pressing into him, stretching him open, the thin, hungry lips devouring his lips, jaw and neck, and the hot, thick cock that filled him, causing them both to groan as they finally pressed together.

When Severus stilled Draco clawed at his back. “Fuck me, damn it!” Severus smashed their lips together again, then pulled back, thrusting in roughly this time, and swallowing the cry his thrust dragged from Draco.

The feelings were too much and not enough, all at the same time, and Draco’s hands slid down the sweat-soaked skin to press against Severus’s arse, pulling him as close as he could, trying to get him to thrust faster. “More, please!”

Up until this point, aside from the one growled word, Severus had been utterly silent beyond his groans. But at the admonition, he nipped at Draco’s collarbone, making him writhe and gasp under him. “Spoiled to the core. Impatient as ever. Brat.”

Draco pulled his face up and kissed him hungrily. “Yes. Your brat. Please don’t ever stop. Need you, Severus.”

The words pulled a shudder and another loud groan from Severus, and his thrusts moved faster now, kissing Draco desperately as he thrust, grinding deep into him with every other thrust. Those long fingers that Draco had always dreamed about wrapped around his cock and he cried out, bucking into Severus’s hand. “Ohgod, yes! Severus…please…” He didn’t care that he was saying that word constantly now. He just wanted to press himself against Severus; to have Severus press into him, until their bodies merged so that they’d never have to be apart again.

But no matter how much he wished it, there was no way the need building between them could last forever. Within a moment, Severus’s hand was tightening around him, and Draco couldn’t hold back any longer. He screamed out something approximating Severus’s name as he came, painting them both with his come, then gasped as he felt Severus give a few last thrusts into him before coming with a groan and sagging on top of him.

Usually, as soon as a client had finished, Draco tried to find a way to gracefully extricate himself from underneath them. Often, he even chose positions to make that easier. Not this time. This time, he curled around Severus, trying to keep him as close as possible. Trying to reassure himself that it all hadn’t been some fabulous dream. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered, once he’d caught his breath.

Severus snorted. “I should think that would be obvious, Draco. Otherwise, why should I have attacked you in such a way?”

“You didn’t attack me. I practically had to bash you over the head and do everything myself. Tell me.”

Pulling back to meet Draco’s eyes, Severus gazed at him balefully. “I want you, you insufferable brat. Now, are you coming home, or do I have to… ‘Bash you over the head and do everything myself?’”

Draco’s face broke into a grin, and he pulled the other man into a drawn-out kiss. “Yes,” he said softly. “I’ll come home with you.” After all, he could always start his House in England, now that he was going to retire.