Title: Saving Baby Dragons
Author: alisanne
Characters: Charlie Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Themes/kinks chosen: Sex Magic. :)
Word Count: ~2500
Summary: They only accept volunteers. Good thing Draco likes to volunteer.
Author's notes: Thanks to sevfan for the beta read.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.


~

Saving Baby Dragons

~

“Another wild egg came in today.”

Draco looked up from his cauldron. “Oh?”

“Mmhm.” Charlie Weasley, who was leaning against the doorframe, smiled. “You know what that means.”

Draco’s heart sped up but, feigning disinterest, he said, “What’s that?”

“We’ll need to siphon off as much magic from the egg as we can.” Straightening up, Charlie stalked towards him. “And, as you also know, nothing does that as well as sex magic.”

Draco pursed his lips, pretending to think. “Oh, is it our turn? Again?”

Growling, Charlie reached for him, hauling him into his arms. “You know it is,” he murmured, nuzzling Draco’s neck. “And don’t pretend that you didn’t love it last time.”

Draco tilted his head in wordless encouragement. “It was...all right I suppose,” he breathed.

Charlie laughed softly, his hand reaching around to cup Draco’s arse. “It was a lot better than all right and you know it. You want to feel that again. I know I do.”

Draco shivered, closing his eyes as he recalled how it had all started...

“Draco Malfoy.” After stepping from the Floo, Draco offered his hand, waiting to see if this Weasley look-alike would reject him.

The redhead smiled. “Charlie Weasley. Welcome to the Romanian Reserve.”

Draco sighed. And he actually is a Weasley. Of course. In the distance there was a roar and he winced, glancing out the door of the large cabin where he’d arrived. “Was that--?”

“A dragon, yes.” Weasley’s smile deepened. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them.” Turning on his heel, he tossed over his shoulder, “This way to your quarters.”

The walk was brisk and by the time he arrived at a fairly nondescript cottage, Draco was out of breath. “Is this were I’m to work?” he asked, eyeing the building.

Weasley laughed. “Nope. This is where you’ll live. You’ll work in the compound. It’s further down the path.” He looked pointedly at the trunks floating behind Draco. “If you leave that stuff here, I’ll show you your lab.”

The potions laboratory, which, as Weasley had indicated, was in the centre of the reserve complex, was adequate, although it was missing some elements. As Draco looked around, inspecting the supplies, Weasley said, “If you need to requisition anything just let me know. We’re a bit off the beaten path here, and we carefully control deliveries so as to minimise problems.”

Draco turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “What sort of problems?”

“Dragons are very sensitive to magic,” Weasley explained. “Since we keep wild ones here, we’re careful with the amount of magic to which they get exposed.”

“Which is why I couldn’t directly Portkey or Apparate here,” Draco said thoughtfully. “I’d wondered.”

“That’s why.” Weasley nodded. “Floos exude some magic, but it’s minimal as long as they remain mostly closed, and we keep the number of incoming Floos down to one a day.”

Draco smiled faintly. “And I was today’s delivery. Lucky you.”

Weasley looked him up and down slowly. “You know,” he finally said. “I would have to agree.”

To his chagrin, Draco blushed at the blatant sexual invitation in Weasley’s gaze before looking away. I’m here to work, not to have a fling, he reminded himself. “I really should start right away. How soon can I requisition some potion supplies?” He rested his hands against the worktable.

“Write a list and I’ll take care of it.” Weasley became all business. “Or, if you’re not comfortable with me, I can have one of the other handlers, er, handle it.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Who says I’m not comfortable with you?”

Weasley moved closer. “It seemed as if my flirting was bothering you.” He leaned against the work table, tilting his head to look directly into Draco’s face. “Was I wrong?”

“Oh, is that what that was?” Draco asked, tone light. “Flirting?” He smirked. “I couldn’t tell.”

Weasley laughed. “Ouch! You’ll fit in very well here.” He shook his head. “The others are always trying to take me down a peg, too. Still--” his gaze was frankly admiring, “--I’m happy to go down on anything when it comes to you.”

Draco shivered. Weasley was a bit too close for his comfort, but to move away would admit he felt something. “You’re very...blatant, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm.” Reaching out, Weasley had the temerity to tuck a lock of Draco’s hair behind his ear. His hand lingered on Draco’s skin for a few seconds. “I’m a dragon keeper. You’ll find we’re not much for beating around the bush. I guess that comes from our jobs. When a dragon could trample you or fry you to a crisp any day of the week, you learn that every day should be lived as if it’s your last, because it could be.”

Draco’s mouth went dry at the intent expression on Weasley’s face. “I suppose that makes some sense,” he whispered.

“Glad you agree.” Smiling, Weasley pushed away from the table. “I’ll be back to pick you up at seven.”

Draco exhaled. He’d been sure Weasley was going to kiss him. Ignoring the stab of what felt like disappointment, he said, “Pick me up?”

“For dinner.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m sure I can manage on my own--” Draco gasped as he was spun around, pulled into muscled arms, and snogged. Afterward he would deny that he’d melted against Weasley, arched to get closer, but in that moment it was exactly what he did.

Far too soon, Weasley raised his head, licking his lips. “I’m sure you could manage on your own, too,” he said, tone husky. “But you shan’t have to. Some things are better...with company. Be ready at seven.”

Dinner had been at seven, and by nine, Draco had been in Weasley’s bed, arse in the air as he’d been treated to the most expert rimming and rogering of his life. And that was when Draco had fallen hard for Charlie, and had vowed never to tell him.

“What are you thinking about?” Charlie asked, nipping at the sensitive lobe of Draco’s ear and bringing him back to the present.

“I’m recalling the way you seduced me within minutes of my arrival,” Draco said, trying to sound stern.

Charlie laughed softly. “You know, that may have been a record for me. I usually give someone at least a day to get acclimatised before I proposition them.” His arms tightened around Draco as he tried to move away. “Stop. You know I’m joking.”

Do I? Keeping his tone light, Draco said, “Of course. So when will you require my...presence?”

Charlie pulled back, staring searchingly into Draco’s eyes. “I enjoy your presence whenever you want to visit, you know that. I’ve told you that.”

Draco swallowed hard, fighting down the panic that always engulfed him when Charlie got too serious. It’s just a fling. “Yes, but I meant for the purposes of wild dragon preservation--”

“I know what you meant.” Charlie sighed, resting his forehead against Draco’s. “How about eight? It’ll give us time to eat and prepare. And at least you know what to expect this time.”

Prepare. Draco nodded, although he wasn’t sure anything could prepare him for dragon fuelled sex. The last time had almost killed him, although what a way to go...

Draco hadn’t even seen the egg at first. It was the colour of sand and, buried as it was in, well, sand, it made it difficult to spot. “Where is it?”

Charlie pointed. “Right there.”

Draco squinted, frowning. “And what are we supposed to do?”

Charlie hauled him close. “We’re supposed to have sex in as close proximity as we can manage.”

“Why?” Draco asked, trying not to blush. He turned his head, glaring suspiciously at Charlie. “This isn’t some trick you play on all the newbies, is it?”

“No.” Charlie slid his hand under Draco’s shirt, caressing his skin. “We all have to take turns doing it when an abandoned, wild dragon egg is found. Normally the mother will do it just by virtue of her ability to suck magic away from the egg, but when there is no mother--”

“You have to do it.” Draco shook his head. “How?”

Tossing a handkerchief onto the sand next to the egg, Charlie Transfigured it into a blanket. “We fuck,” he said baldly. “Right here in the dragon birthing pen, as close as possible to the egg. And, while we’re doing it, we absorb the excess magical energy.”

“I take it there’s a spell?” Draco asked.

Charlie nodded. “I’ll cast it as soon as we’re...ready.”

“Why me?” Draco blurted.

Charlie smiled. “Because I love fucking you. And you seem to enjoy it, too.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“They won’t. I put up a barrier. Plus, everyone knows what’s going on.” Charlie’s expression turned speculative. “Unless you want someone to watch--”

“No thanks!” Draco crossed his arms. “So who does this usually?”

“We all take turns.”

Draco frowned. “What do the unpartnered people do?”

Charlie smirked. “I suppose they could just...wank. Most people manage to find someone to pair up with for the evening when they wish, though.”

Draco licked his lips. “Seems a bit much to ask.”

“We don’t force people. That’s why there’s a voluntary rotation. It just so happens that we all...volunteer.”

Draco desperately wanted to know who the last person Charlie had done this with was, but he was damned if he was going to ask. “So it’s mostly random couples who participate?”

“Yes, but we seem to get the best results when somewhat...committed couples do it.” Charlie looked away. “Something about the emotional connection seems to absorb a lot of magical energy.”

Draco’s hands clenched into fists. This is just a fling! “So where do you want me?” he asked.

Charlie looked back at him, gaze heated. “On the blanket,” he finally said. “Hands and knees. Naked.”

Somehow Draco’s hands were steady as he undid his robes and tossed them onto the hot sand. They were followed by his shirt, trousers and pants, until he was naked, his cock already half hard. Gracefully, he knelt on the blanket. “All right?” he asked.

Charlie murmured something indistinct, a warmth enveloped Draco, and a moment later Charlie was pressed against him, his hands caressing him, his mouth trailing kisses along his spine, down to his arse.

Draco closed his eyes. Charlie seemed to have a strange fascination with his arse; he was always staring at it, and when they did shag, which was far more often than probably healthy, Charlie was always fondling it, licking it, sucking it.

By the time Charlie’s tongue began circling his hole, alongside his thumb, which was nudging inside, Draco was trembling, panting. He’d thought he would be cold shagging out in the open dragon pen, but he was warm. Very warm. And the warmth was growing, spreading throughout his body.

“Can you feel it?” Charlie whispered against Draco’s skin, his thumb thrusting rhythmically into Draco’s spit-loosened hole. “Can you feel the magic?”

Draco nodded, groaning as Charlie used both his thumbs to spread Draco open. “Yes! Fuck--”

“Working on it,” Charlie said. A moment later Draco was slick and oiled as the tingle of a Lubrication Spell washed over him.

Normally, Draco loved the slow burn of being opened with fingers and tongue, but there was something about the magic flooding his system that was making him need Charlie hard and fast. And now. “Come on,” he growled, tilting up his arse in invitation. “I’m ready! Hurry up--”

“God you’re gorgeous,” Charlie said. “Spread your legs.”

When Charlie’s cock nudged his hole, Draco could only moan and obey. Charlie took his time, penetrating Draco slowly but sinking deep with one firm push. “Yes,” Draco gasped, his breath coming in fast pants. “Now move!”

Chuckling, Charlie grasped Draco’s hips and began to thrust hard. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Draco whimpered under the onslaught. About every third thrust, Charlie’s cock slid over Draco’s prostate, sending sparks cascading up his spine. Sex with Charlie was always intense but the added element of the magic that was coming off the egg was pushing Draco even higher than normal, the sheer power making him sob. His orgasm, when it came, seemed to well up from his toes. “Charlie!” he cried, clenching his muscles around Charlie's cock as his body spasmed.

As Draco convulsed, Charlie’s rhythm began to falter. He ground himself against Draco, growling as he, too, came, spilling into Draco with a shout.

They collapsed, Draco struggling to catch his breath. Turning his head, he looked at the egg, which was glowing. “Is it supposed to do that?”

“That’s normal,” Charlie whispered, curling an arm round Draco. “It means what we did worked. All the magic that baby dragons exude dulls their shells. That’s what they’re supposed to look like.” He ran his nose along Draco’s jaw.

Draco closed his eyes. “So we’re done?”

“Mmhm. For now.” Charlie shifted. “Although I suspect we may need to drain some more of that magic in a few minutes.”

Draco smiled. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

“Well,” Charlie murmured, rolling Draco onto his back. “We seem to be exceptional at this. It’s pretty interesting how well we work together.”

Draco stared up at him, recalling his earlier words about how the magical draining worked best with people who had an emotional connection. “I can’t imagine why,” he lied.

Charlie started caressing him again. “Do you really care?”

Draco arched up against him. “No. Not really.”

“--unless you don’t want to do it,” Charlie said, pulling away.

Draco blinked, returning to the present. “What? Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“You seem reluctant.” Raising a hand, Charlie cupped Draco’s face, running his thumb along Draco’s bottom lip. He sighed. “We haven’t talked about it, but you should know that this, what we’re doing, isn’t just a fling for me.”

Draco froze. “What?”

“It may have been when you first got here, but now--” Charlie swallowed hard and bared his soul, “--now I just want to build a life with you. If you’ll agree to have a brash, loud dragon keeper in your life.”

Every vow Draco had made to keep his feelings secret flew out the window in that moment. “I think I could put up with that,” he said, pouring his every emotion into his eyes. “After all, someone has to save the baby dragons. And we do seem to be the best at it.”

Charlie’s eyes widened and, beaming, he leaned in to kiss Draco. When they broke for air a minute later, he whispered against Draco’s lips, “You’re right. We really do.”

~