Title: Tropical Tornado
Author: alisanne
Characters: George Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Semi-public sex, outdoor sex.
Themes/kinks chosen: Aquaphilia, Public nudity, Salophilia.
Word Count: 2390
Summary: A forced vacation allows George to see his future more clearly.
Author's notes: Thanks to sevfan and emynn for their assistance.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.


~

Tropical Tornado

~

“‘You need a holiday’, they said. ‘It will be relaxing’, they said. Idiots.” George stalked through the lobby of the tropical hotel, uncaring of the concerned looks coming from the other guests. “What utter bollocks.”

And Granger had been the worst of them, taking him aside and being all intellectual about it. “Fred’s gone,” she’d said. “And you need to accept that and deal with it.”

“As if I haven’t?” muttered George. “As if I don’t miss him every day? Of course I know he’s gone, I’m not an idiot.”

Then why do you still talk to me as if I’m still here? came a distant voice.

“It helps me think, helps me create--” George stopped so abruptly that a woman with two small children almost bumped into him. “Sorry.”

The woman pursed her lips and, clutching her kids’ hands tightly, gave him a wide berth as she scooted past.

George sighed. “Bloody hell. Maybe they’re right, eh, Freddie? Maybe I am losing my marbles.” Making an about turn, he started back towards the hotel’s lifts thinking maybe he should just go home and forget this.

Just before he got there, however, he saw signs for the hotel pub. A drink would be good about now, said that soft voice in his head.

George hummed. “Fine, so what if I’m mad and I’m still hearing my dead brother’s advice? It’s good advice.” And, sighing, he made a beeline for it.

It was decorated with fake palm trees and twinkling Christmas lights and there was only one bloke there. When George walked in, he got up and left. George assumed it would get busier as the day wore on, but the emptiness suited him just then.

The bartender’s back was turned, so George sat on a stool and waited to place an order. While he waited, he spent a moment admiring the man’s trim waist and pert arse before he picked up the drink menu and started thumbing through it.

“Something to drink?”

George looked up, and the words froze on his tongue. He blinked. “Malfoy?”

Draco Malfoy, whose shocked expression probably mirrored George’s own, was staring at him. “Weasley,” he finally said. “What are you doing here?”

George took a moment to collect himself. “I was about to ask you the same thing, actually.”

Draco sighed. “Well I’m working. Obviously.”

“Well, right.” George gestured around them. “But this is a Muggle hotel. Last I heard you’d dropped out of sight and were holed up in Malfoy Manor. How’d you get here?”

Draco’s mouth tightened. Swiping the top of the bar with his rag, he said, “Look, I’m not supposed to fraternise with guests, so if you’re not going to order I’m going to have to ask you to--”

“Fine.” George pointed to the first thing on the drink menu. “I’ll have that.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “A tropical tornado? You’re sure?”

“Why, is it not good?” George scanned the ingredients. “Looks good to me.”

“Of course it’s good, I’m making it. It’s just that it’s rather...potent.” Draco shrugged. “But if that’s what you want--”

Potent sounded perfect. “It is.”

Draco looked him up and down before finally nodding. “All right, I think you can handle it.” He started reaching for ingredients, and as George watched, he expertly mixed his drink as only a master brewer could. George sighed. Fred had always been the brewer in their business.

The drink had about five or six sorts of alcohol in it, in addition to several fruit juices, and when Draco placed it in front of him, it looked like an impressionist painting with its swirling colours. “There you go.”

George sipped, his eyes widening. “This is very good.”

“Thanks.” The set of Draco’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “So you’re on holiday?”

George sighed. “An enforced one, yes.” He hummed. “Thought you weren’t supposed to talk to me?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. This is fine. Bartenders, as I’ve discovered, are rather a lot like counsellors. We hear all sorts of things. The management just doesn’t want us chatting with customers who aren’t paying.”

“So as long as I keep drinking--”

“We can continue talking.” Draco smiled. “And, as you’re my only customer in here right now, you have my undivided attention. Now, tell me what’s going on, Weasley.”

It was tempting, especially since he would probably never see Draco again. What can it hurt? George took a long sip of his drink and started talking.

About halfway through, George started to feel better, and, when his drink ran out, Draco didn’t even ask, he just made him another. And another. He was also by far the most receptive listener George had encountered. He didn’t interrupt the way that bloody counsellor Hermione had recommended had, and he didn’t try to tell George that everything would be fine, the way his entire family did.

“--and that’s it. I just...miss him so much--” George blinked into his empty glass, unsure of how many he’d had. “Glass’ empty.”

“That it is.” Draco took the glass and handed him some water. “You don’t need more alcohol; you need water and a nap.”

“A nap?” Snorting, George looked up at Draco. “I haven’t slept in ages.”

“Ah, yes, as you said.” Draco pursed his lips and looked around. “Right. If you keep it quiet, I bet I can fix that.”

George blinked. “How?”

Placing a finger against his lips to mime silence, Draco moved to the other end of the bar and picked up a phone. Within moments, a girl appeared at the door. “End of shift, Derrick?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah, Melinda. I just need to cash this bloke out and then it’s all yours.”

“Is he staying?” Melinda asked, eyeing George.

“Afraid not.” Draco hummed. “He said something about wanting to go to the beach, so I said I’d take him.”

“All right.”

Within minutes, Draco was steering George out the hotel pub and out onto the large patio that ran the length of the hotel. “Where’re you taking me?” slurred George, wincing at the bright sunlight.

Draco hummed and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out some sunglasses. “Here, these should help,” he said. “And I’m taking you to the beach. Everyone can sleep at the beach.”

The beach was crowded. George, who was slightly more sober, looked around. “Doesn’t look like there’s anyplace to sleep to me--”

“We’re not staying here,” said Draco, pulling him along. “This is the hotel beach. There’s a better one around the corner that no one knows about.”

George glanced behind them. “I think we’re being followed.”

Draco smirked. “Let them try,” he murmured and sped up. After a few more minutes of walking, he helped George navigate some rocks and pulled him through some bushes. George felt a tingle and then they stumbled into a small cove. It was empty but for them.

Behind them George could hear the Muggles who had been following saying, “Where did they go?”

He turned to Draco. “You put up wards?”

“No, actually.” Draco shrugged. “I discovered this place when I first got here and, incredibly, no one had found it. Later I realised someone else had put wards on it. They were neglected, so I suspect that person’s long gone now. Anyway, I strengthened them, and now this is my private refuge when I need to swim and relax.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bag. Unshrinking it, he withdrew a blanket, some towels, and a couple of bottles of water. “Drink this. Then rest.”

George almost snorted. “Rest?”

Draco smiled. “Trust me, you will. The ocean has that effect on people.”

Shaking his head, George nevertheless did as Draco said, and as he reclined on the towel and the sun shone on him, he could feel his eyes getting heavy. A tingle tickled his skin and he blinked at Draco.

“Sunscreen charm,” he said. “You won’t thank me if you’re a lobster when you wake up.”

George hummed, and as drowsiness overtook him, he muttered, “Why’re you being so nice?”

Draco sighed. “Because I know what its like to lose someone. And I’ve had my share of insomnia. Now rest.”

George closed his eyes, sure that he’d be up in a minute or two. When he opened them again, however, the sun had moved across the sky and he was alone. Sitting up, he squinted to see someone in the distance in the ocean.

He quickly realised it was Draco swimming, and, as he watched, he saw him emerge from the water, streams of it cascading down his lithe, naked body as he walked towards him. George swallowed hard as he took in the sight of his muscles and his lovely cock. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Finally awake, I see,” Draco said as he got closer. He seemed entirely comfortable with his own nudity. “Good nap?”

George looked away from him, willing his own body to behave. “That’s the most I’ve slept in weeks.” He narrowed his eyes and stared up at Draco as something occurred to him. “Did you slip something in my drinks?”

Draco laughed. “Merlin, no. It’s just the effect of the sun and the waves. Although it didn’t hurt that you were drunk.”

George sighed. “Well I can’t get drunk on tropical tornadoes every day and then sleep on the beach.”

“You can while you’re on holiday.” Draco reached out a hand. “Come on. You should come for a swim. The water’s fabulous.”

George licked his lips. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Draco smirked. “And I do? Come on.”

After a brief hesitation, George nodded, and as he let Draco help him up, he ended up in his arms. The scent of him, fruit mingled with salt and something undefinable, went straight to George’s core. Arousal coiled through him and his cock throbbed. “Maybe I should go back to the hotel,” he said.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?” He deliberately slid his naked leg between George’s thighs. Slowly, he smiled. “Oh. I see.”

Damn. George looked away. “Sorry--”

Draco made a frustrated sound and, hauling George even closer, murmured, “Are you thick, Weasley? Get naked now before I rip these clothes off.”

George’s eyes widened. “You mean you--?” He glanced down. “But you’re not hard.”

Draco whispered something before rolling his hips against George. “I am hard,” he panted. “But I couldn’t show you that, could I?”

“Glamour?” asked George, his hand sliding around Draco’s length to stroke him.

Draco hummed. “Glamour. Now, if you want me to just hump you like this, keep doing that. Or you can ditch the clothes and join me in the water.” He nipped at George’s mouth. “You’ll love it. Promise.”

George grinned. “Well you haven’t steered me wrong yet--”

He undressed in mere seconds and within a minute they were immersed in the water. It was warm, the waves lapping around them, caressing them. George sighed as Draco’s arms surrounded him. “Ever shagged in the ocean?” he whispered.

George shook his head.

Draco smiled. “You’ll adore this, then.”

It was fantastic. The water supported them as they moved, and as Draco grasped George’s hips and parted his legs to wrap them around his waist, Draco’s skin felt like silk sliding along George’s. They were face to face at first, Draco’s eyes turning a stormy grey with flecks of ocean blue in their depths. As his fingers probed at George’s hole, George closed his eyes, his breath hitching.

“The only problem is that we have to be careful with the Lubrication Spell,” murmured Draco.

George felt slickness fill him and he moaned. “Why?”

Draco slipped his fingers out and, spinning George abruptly so that he was facing away from him, quickly replaced them with his cock. “If it’s not done...correctly...it will dissipate in the water,” he whispered.

“Oh, fuck,” gasped George as Draco filled him and then started to slide in and out.

Draco tucked his face into the curve of George’s neck as he moved, his teeth scraping the cords of George’s neck. “Trying,” he muttered.

George’s head fell forward as he tried to arch back into the thrusts. Draco’s feet were braced on the sand but his weren’t. He felt entirely at Draco’s mercy and it was...glorious. His eyes fluttered open and the water was so clear that he saw their writhing shadows’ reflection against the bottom of the ocean.

Draco growled, speeding up, and as he did so he licked the back of George’s neck as if tasting him, savouring him. “Fuck, but you’re delicious.”

George was on the edge, teetering, when Draco slipped an arm around him, grasping his cock and stroking firmly. That was it. With a bellow, George came, his cock pulsing several times as his come shot from him to dissipate into the ocean.

Draco sucked kisses into George’s skin as his thrusts sped up until, with a shout, he, too, came, his hips trembling against George’s as he poured his seed into him.

“Wow,” whispered George as Draco caught his breath.

Draco laughed softly. “Yeah, there’s nothing like fucking in the ocean.” He drew back, pulling out, his hands remaining on George’s waist to steady him. “So, shall I take you back to your hotel now?”

George bit his lip. “I suppose.”

Draco spun him around. “I don’t have to. We can stay here a while longer if you like. My next shift isn’t for a few more hours.”

George nodded. “Brilliant.” And as they made their way back to the shore, he said, “Have you considered returning to the Wizarding world?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “To do that I’d need a job. Who’d want to hire me?”

The business needs a brewer. He’d do fine. Was Fred’s voice getting softer?

George hummed. “Oh, I know of a few places who could use someone with your brewing skills.”

“Do you?” Slowly, Draco smiled. “And what’s the application process like?”

Pulling him down with him onto the blanket, George mentally thanked his Freddie for steering him right. Again. “Oh, nothing you’re not prepared to handle.”

~