Title: Fairest One of All
Author: gypsyflame
Characters/Pairings: Draco/voyeur!Snape; implied Draco/Blaise
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Mirrors, exhibitionism
Other Warnings: Voyeurism; object insertion; Malfoy-level self-obsession
Word Count: ~2000
Summary/Description: Spinner’s End is boring. Draco has to find some way to entertain himself.
Author's Notes: Thanks to carolinelamb and bella526 for the beta work!



The mirror in Draco’s room – or rather, the room at Snape’s house that he’d come to think of as his own – had been cracked and dusty and in poor repair when he’d moved in. If there was one thing Draco couldn’t live without, it was a quality mirror, and once he’d recovered from his terror of the Dark Lord’s wrath and his subsequent relief when Aunt Bellatrix and the Carrows had been punished instead of himself, fixing it had been his first order of business.

Now it shone, a flawless pane of glass in a polished mahogany frame. It usually hung above the bureau, but once a day, Draco moved it to the foot of the bed.

He lay half-reclined on a pile of pillows, watching his reflection as he unbuttoned his shirt. Each button slipped from its hole as slowly as he could make himself go.

Draco had never wanked more in his life than he had that summer – not because he was particularly aroused, but because he was so fucking bored. His mother had insisted he stay with Snape. Draco wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that there was nothing for him to do at Spinner’s End. Snape barely spoke to him, engrossed as he was in whatever tasks the Dark Lord had set for him, and Draco had quickly learned to stay out of his way.

Having it off three times a day was the only way to combat the tedium.

Draco spread the panels of his shirt and examined himself critically. One of his greatest assets was his skin, as smooth and flawless as freshly poured cream, and his slenderness was also something to be admired.

But was he perhaps too thin? He traced his fingers over his flat stomach and up the ladder of his clearly visible ribs to the jut of his prominent collarbone. He knew bulky muscles would look ridiculous on his fine-boned frame, but sometimes he wished he looked more like Blaise: taut and toned.

In a movement honed by countless hours of practice in front of this very mirror, Draco arched his back and slid out of his shirt without sitting up, appreciating the sinuous grace of his reflection. His first time with the mirror had been a lark, a simple amusement, until he’d realised the potential value of being able to watch himself wank. He was able to see what flattered him and what didn’t, which actions were arousing and which were just ridiculous, what his expression looked like when he was touched in particular places. It was invaluable preparation for the next time he had the opportunity to fuck someone besides himself.

His nipples were already hard, little pink nubs that created a pleasing contrast to his pale skin. He brushed his thumbs against them, watching them get even harder as the stimulation made his cock fill. Draco had always enjoyed having his nipples played with, though there was less excitement in doing it to himself. Blaise liked to bite them…

Draco’s cheeks flushed at the memory. He watched, fascinated, as the color swept across his face and down his neck. Pale skin was a blessing and a curse – a blush could be shameful, betraying one’s embarrassment or anger at the worst moment, but in lust it was nothing short of beautiful. Draco’s blushes were never blotchy like a Weasley’s; the color spread evenly, starting with the palest rose and progressing through ever-deepening shades of pink as his arousal grew more intense.

He pinched one of his nipples, knowing that a lover would like the way that made his body jerk. His fingers were long and graceful, and they looked good skimming over his skin, dipping into his navel. Draco had always been drawn to beautiful hands. He let his eyes fall shut for a moment, giving in to the sense memory of Blaise running his hands up Draco’s sides, over his stomach.

Then the dark fingers in his mind’s eye became pale and stained and even thinner. Draco’s eyes popped open. Gods, not again.

Draco stared at himself in the mirror, frustrated. These fantasies of Snape had been occurring more and more frequently of late, and he didn’t understand them. Draco appreciated beauty – in himself and in others. Snape was ugly. He had sallow skin and a huge nose and greasy hair and an imposing presence and impossibly clever hands and dark eyes that pinned Draco with their intensity when he deigned to look at Draco at all –

Draco let out helpless moan. Being shut up in this house was driving him mad if it was making him want Snape. No doubt Snape was a cruel lover; he would torture Draco’s nipples mercilessly, tugging and pinching and flicking…

“Fuck,” Draco muttered, unbuttoning his trousers with one hand. He lowered the zip and traced his fingertips across the soft skin of his lower abdomen, teasing over his sharp hipbones, dipping inside to caress his erection through his silk pants. He regarded the mirror as he would a lover, eyes hot and lidded, breathing heavy.

Draco lifted his hips and shimmied out of his trousers with fluid ease. His pants were already damp. He cupped his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze before lowering the waistband to lie between shaft and balls, enjoying the slight discomfort of his trapped cock almost as much as the intensely arousing sight of it.

His cock wasn’t as thick as he would have liked, though its length and exquisite shape were things Draco prided himself on. He tormented himself for a few moments, dragging his fingers up and down the shaft, toying with the head, watching the way his cock twitched and strained and dripped precome onto his stomach.

Draco brought his wet fingers to his lips and sucked on them. This was something that had looked beyond silly the first time he’d tried it, and it had taken a long time for him to hit that perfect note of sensual abandon that made it erotic instead of awkward. He sighed softly as he licked his own precome from his skin, his other hand slowly stroking his cock.

His lips were shiny when he released his fingers and pushed his pants down his legs and off the end of the bed. Draco examined his naked reflection with eyes both analytical and approving. His legs were pleasingly long, his pubic hair neatly groomed down to a small patch of blond curls at the base of his cock. The rest of it had been removed, even from his balls and arse; doing so made Draco feel cleaner and more desirable.

Unbidden, the question of whether Snape would like it crossed Draco’s mind. The man certainly didn’t go to any great lengths with his own personal hygiene, but Draco had seen how obsessively spotless and organized he kept his laboratory. Would he appreciate the same attention to cleanliness in a different kind of workspace?

Draco shook his head. Enough was enough.

He reached beside him for the bottle of lube he’d managed to smuggle out of the Manor before being exiled here. Fortunately for him, it was self-refilling, or else he would have run through it weeks ago.

The lube was spelled to stay warm, and Draco wasted no time in pouring a generous amount directly onto his cock. Clear oil slid down his shaft in lazy rivulets. He stroked himself, spreading it equally from base to tip until his entire cock gleamed. Draco lubed his other hand and reached between his legs to roll and massage his balls, heart beating faster as he watched.

Releasing his cock, Draco bent his legs so that his thighs were spread wide and his feet were flat on the mattress. He held his balls out of the way while his fingers circled the tight, pink skin of his arsehole.

More than anything else, Draco loved how he looked when he had something inside him. It made his eyes darken and his skin glow, compelled his body to twist and move in the most alluring ways. He couldn’t even touch his cock when he watched himself finger his own arse, as doing so guaranteed an immediate orgasm.

Eyes intent on his reflection, Draco slid his middle finger inside. It only took a few seconds for him to feel wet and relaxed enough to add another, moaning as he watched his hole stretch around his fingers. He pumped them in and out, then found his prostate and rubbed it, body squirming as pleasure shot through his veins and prickled over his skin.

He was gorgeous. His skin, pink from head to toe, glistened with a fine sheen of sweat; his neglected cock stood straight up, wet with lube and precome, throbbing in its need. His fingers opened up his hole, sometimes plunging in deep to the third knuckle, other times pulling out completely so that Draco could see himself loose and empty and hungry. His chest heaved with his panting breaths.

A soft sound broke Draco’s concentration, and his eyes flicked up to the corner of the mirror. His breath caught.

Snape was watching him.

The door – which had certainly been shut when Draco had started – was open just a crack, but it was enough for him to see Snape standing there. His eyes were pinned to Draco’s reflection rather than Draco himself, his mouth open slightly. There was a minor yet unmistakable flush on his cheeks.

When Draco went still in shock, Snape’s eyes moved to meet his own in the mirror. Draco saw no censure in them, no disgust – only surprise and, he was sure, arousal.

Draco closed his eyes and pushed a third finger into his arse.

He could hear Snape’s sudden, startled breath, but he didn’t hear footsteps. He knew Snape was watching him finger himself, and he wasn’t ashamed. No, he was so fucking turned on that his ears rang and his body shuddered.

Draco withdrew his fingers too fast and searched blindly beside himself until he found what he was looking for: the candle he had stolen from Snape’s sitting room during his first week at Spinner’s End. It was long and thick, and a couple of simple spells had rounded the end and given it a nice flexibility. The perfect makeshift dildo.

Draco shoved it inside himself with desperate need. Snape groaned, groaned, and Draco couldn’t help but open his eyes so that he could look at Snape’s face again, look at Snape watching him act like such a slut and getting turned on by it and…

…wanking. Fuck, Snape was touching himself. Draco could see his hand moving under his robes, hear the rustling and his harsh panting breaths.

Draco moaned out loud. He lifted his knees to his chest, feet dangling in mid-air, so that they would both have an unobstructed view of the candle working his arse. His free hand fisted in the coverlet.

Draco’s hole looked obscene stretched around the big candle. He alternated deep, hard thrusts with short, shallow ones that teased his prostate and curled his toes. He watched Snape more than he watched himself, savouring the man’s desire, the validation of all his hard work, and he didn’t hold back.

Snape didn’t look away until he came, head falling against the door with a low grunt. Draco finally let himself grab his own cock and only got in two brisk pumps before he was coming as well, candle buried deep inside and feet falling back to the bed to slide against the coverlet in uncontrollable spasms. Come spattered his stomach and chest, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open against the onslaught of fierce, wild pleasure that flooded him.

Gasping, Draco sagged against the mattress. His right arm ached from his exertions; his pulse pounded so hard it felt it might break through his skin.

Only when Draco had caught his breath did he dare to look in the mirror again. Snape was gone, but the door was still open.

Snape’s appearance in his room hadn’t been an accident. He never sought Draco out unless it was to tell him something. Assuming he had opened Draco’s door with the intention of delivering a message, it stood to reason that he still had something to say. Draco ought to go look for him.

Perhaps he would give Draco something more satisfying than a transfigured candle.