Entry tags:

2008, character: draco malfoy, character: neville longbottom, fic, pairing: neville/draco

Fic: A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement... (Neville/Draco, NC-17) for lotus_lizzy
Author: rickey_a
Recipient: lotus_lizzy
Title: A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement Between Two Former Childhood Enemies of Pureblood Status
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Neville/Draco
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Summary: It may be Harry's bachelor party, but it's Neville who's getting a night of pleasure under strange circumstances.
Warnings: A little bit of kink. Porn, Porn, Porn! And not much else.
Word Count: ~5100
Author's Notes: lotus_lizzy wanted Pr0n and Draco in tights. That was pretty much it. I endeavor to please. Beta thanks TBD after the reveal. Betas rule my world.

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It wasn't that he didn't like breasts. Neville didn't mind breasts at all. Being gay didn't mean that he hated women and certainly not breasts. He could appreciate firm perky breasts. He didn't even mind full voluminous breasts. However, gelatinous, spell-induced, gargantuan breasts were a bit off putting, especially when smothering the entirety of Ron Weasley's large head. But it was Harry's bachelor party, and despite it being one the most mind-boggling traditions, there wasn't much Neville wouldn't do for Harry.

A little over three years ago, Neville had defied Voldemort and withstood being set on fire in order to kill the bastard's evil snake. Harry had said to kill the snake, and so Neville did. Only Neville didn't like to think about those times. Some might think of them as glory days, but in fact they were terrifying memories. In Neville's mind, anyone thinking of the Battle of Hogwarts as glorious needed a room in St. Mungo's Mind-Healing Ward. He had merely done what had to be done.

Nowadays, he enjoyed the quiet life of working for Phillida Spore's Green Emporium. Occasionally he had the pleasure of traveling on an expedition to scout for rare plants and herbs. He had his friends and his social life and, despite the all too frequent drought in sexual partners, was rather content with the status quo.

Tonight's festivities were pushing the boundaries of what strange hetero customs he wanted to witness.

They had moved from the main stage room of The Den to one of the private side rooms rentable by the hour. The room was completely filled by a large round table. The twenty-three men filled the seats surrounding it. All of Harry's male friends from Gryffindor and Dumbledore's army, as well as the Weasleys, were in attendance. There were also a few young Aurors that had become close friends of Harry and Ron's over the past few years.

They had all congregated to spend Harry's last night of bachelorhood in pathetic adolescent wet dream debauchery. They spent much of the evening drinking and watching the live show. The private performance by the dancer (although Neville felt odd calling her that) was extra. After the she had finished attacking Ron's face with her bosom of doom, she knelt in the center of the table and tapped at a circular painted symbol. A small chest appeared. She opened it and then explained that the level of her performance would be determined by the amount of money that they tossed into the lid of the chest.

Seamus tossed a few sickles into the chest. She fixed him with a determined stare and pulled out what had to be the world's smallest dildo. It was about the size of his pinky finger.

Dean chuckled and slapped Seamus on the back. "That looks about right."

Everyone laughed and began to toss galleons into the chest. The dancer pulled out larger and larger toys accordingly. After several passes around the table, she had worked up to an extremely large and lifelike dildo about the length and girth of a forearm. She set it on the table and positioned herself over the tip.

Neville had seen enough. He caught Harry's attention and signaled that he'd be waiting outside. At least Harry had the good sense to look embarrassed. George, Lee, and Terry were whooping and hollering like it was the Quidditch World Cup – well, if it was played by naked Amazons with breasts the size of watermelons. Neville spared a glance for Charlie across the room. Charlie, the only other gay man in attendance, shrugged his shoulders and looked apologetic.

When Neville exited the room, he felt someone follow him. He turned to find a smiling Charlie.

"Sorry 'bout that," Charlie said.

"No worries, but I definitely need another drink."

"You should go next door. I don't think Harry'd mind if you took off. I'd say you put in more than a fair appearance."

"Next door?" Neville didn't know what Charlie was talking about.

"Wizards Only," Charlie clarified.

Neville still was at a loss.

"You've really never been?" Charlie asked.

"Umm, no, I guess not."

"Oh. Come on. I'll show you."

Neville followed Charlie down the back hallway towards the restrooms. Charlie opened a door that Neville hadn't noticed. "Is it spelled?"

"It's sort of like a Fidelius, but far less restrictive. Anyone who's ever been here before can show it to you, but you won't see it on your own," Charlie explained, and led them down a long dark hallway.

Straight ahead there was dimly lit bar and dance floor. Charlie motioned to a hallway to the right just before entering the bar. "Down that way is the back room."

"Huh? Oh." Neville caught Charlie's meaning.

They headed for the bar. There were probably around a hundred wizards in the club. About half of them were on the small crowded dance floor.

Charlie ordered two beers. "On me," he said with a friendly smile.

Neville had always found Charlie attractive, but didn't see him as anything more than a handsome older brother of one of his closest friends. As he watched Charlie's eyes scan the room, he was glad to feel that there was no confusion on that count. The crowd was a mix of young and middle-aged wizards. The music on the dance floor seemed loud but there must have been a great sound dampening type of charm on the bar that kept the level down so that people could talk.

"This is a fantastic place," Neville said. "I can't believe I've never been here."

"Where do you usually go?"

"Alchemy."

"I think I'm getting a tad too old for there," Charlie said with a soft smile and took a pull of his beer.

Alchemy was a very young crowd, nearly all under twenty-five. The nice thing about it was Neville could hang out with his friends in addition to a small contingency of other young gay wizards. Although Neville didn't have one night stands that often, occasionally the urge would arise and there was usually someone interested in sucking the cock of man who had wielded the Sword of Gryffindor in battle. Neville wasn't entirely comfortable using his fame to get laid, but needs must and all that.

"So do you come here a lot?" Neville asked.

"The occasional Saturday night."

Neville took in the crowd, looking for someone recognizable. There were a few younger wizards that he was fairly certain he had seen at Alchemy once or twice. Then someone in the center of the dance floor caught his eye. He was tall with long blond hair that fell across his shoulders. More striking were the black robes that were cut impossibly tight at the waist and over his perfect arse. He was dancing with a tall dark haired man, who there was something a little off about, but Neville couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Neville was without a doubt an arse man. He watched the blond dance and couldn't help feeling that there was something vaguely familiar. Just before the man turned around and Neville saw his face, he realized that it was Malfoy. It had been several years since he had laid eyes on Draco Malfoy. He knew that Malfoy was on a restrictive probation, but truly never gave the young man another thought. Neville had put those difficult times at Hogwarts and his childhood behind him.

The front of Malfoy's robes were as tightly tailored as the back, but Neville finally noticed the long slit up the left leg that was allowing Malfoy to move. Silver or perhaps platinum buttons lined the front. Malfoy's attire and provocative dancing attracted stares from a large majority of the patrons. His face wasn't exactly classically handsome, yet it was attractive, but certainly it was the whole package that was enticing.

"Malfoy," Charlie said gruffly. "He's here all the time."

Neville turned his attention back to Charlie. "You ever—?"

"Nah. Evil rich spoiled bastard ex-Death Eaters aren't my type."

Neville choked on the sip of beer he had just taken, so Charlie clapped him hard on the back.

"Still," Charlie added with a licentious smile, "an arse like that is tempting."

"That it is," Neville replied, looking over at Malfoy once again. This time he noticed Malfoy's legs revealed by the slit in his robes as he danced. The man wasn't wearing any trousers. No wonder his robes could be cut so tight. Instead, he wore knee-high black boots and tights – witch's sheer black tights. Neville's groin stirred with interest and he wondered just what else Malfoy had on under his robes.

"Well," Charlie said, stirring Neville out of his obsessing over Malfoy's state of dress. "I'm going to head back to the bachelor party."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I promised Dad I'd look out for the younger ones. Bill was supposed to help me, but as you know, he's drunk out of his mind. I thought marriage was supposed to make you more responsible. You stay here. "

"You sure?"

"No reason both of us should have to endure the grand finale of bachelordom."

Neville laughed. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Have fun. And…" Charlie tilted his head towards the dance floor, "I know he looks good, but I'm not sure he's worth the hassle."

"Ha! That'd be a laugh. I was only admiring the view."

Charlie smiled as if he didn't quite believe him. "Good night."

"Night."

Neville watched as Charlie made his way to the exit. When he turned his attention back to the dance floor, he noticed Malfoy pushing away the man he had been dancing with. The man then quickly pulled Malfoy's hands behind his back and forced him towards the back hallway.

Neville looked around to see if anyone else had noticed what had happened on the dark and crowded dance floor. As the man forced Malfoy towards the back room, Neville got up from his barstool to follow them.

He found them a minute later. The back room was empty except for them. Only a soft blue light filled the small and narrow room. The man had Malfoy's back pressed against the wall and his wrists pinned helplessly, one on either side of his head.

"Big words for someone who's not allowed to carry a wand," the man said.

"Fuck off!"

Neville watched Malfoy struggle as the other man transferred the grip of Malfoy's wrists to one hand.

By the time the man had the first button on his robes undone, Neville had his wand pressed to his throat. "You want a wand? Here's mine."

"Piss off," the man said gruffly. "This ain't your concern."

"I suggest you take your leave now while you have the chance," Neville said coolly. "I'm pretty good with my wand and there are rumors that I'm fairly handy with a sword too."

The man turned and met Neville's eyes. There was instant recognition.

"Fine," the man spat, and backed away from Malfoy. "Though what you'd want with this Death Eater scum is beyond me." The man stormed off down the hall and pushed the back alley exit door open. It slammed against the outer brick wall with a loud bang.

When the door had shut, Neville turned his attention to Malfoy. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck you," Malfoy snarled while rubbing his wrists.

"Thanks would have sufficed." Neville couldn't fathom Malfoy's reaction.

"I didn't need your help. What is it with you Gryffindors? Always need to play the great hero."

Malfoy stormed past him and back into the club. Curiosity getting the better of him, Neville followed him back to the bar.

"Firewhiskey. Double," Malfoy ordered.

"I'll take one, too," Neville said, taking the barstool next to Malfoy's. "And they're both on me."

"Fuck you. I may not have my wand, but I have my money, and plenty of it. I could buy and sell you ten times over, Longbottom."

"Fine. You buy the drinks."

Malfoy stared at him in complete surprise. It was in that moment that Neville realized that they were the equivalent of complete strangers. He hadn't seen Malfoy since the end of the war, not counting the trials anyway, and for all their years at Hogwarts together they had never had a conversation. Well, not one that didn't include Malfoy flinging some insults and Goyle crushing Neville into a wall. Truly, they didn't know each other at all.

"Why did you bother to help me?" Malfoy asked.

"You looked like you were in trouble. I would have done it for anyone."

"So fucking noble."

"Not so noble, really. Just two minutes before he manhandled you into the back, I was ogling your arse."

Malfoy looked bewildered.

Neville smiled at him, and pondered why he was enjoying himself so much. He took it to be a clue that he found himself admiring the long smooth curve of Malfoy's neck and what it might be like to suck on it.

The bartender set down the drinks. Malfoy's hand shook as he raised the glass, and he set it back down taking a deep breath. Looking straight ahead he said, "I’m not permitted to carry a wand outside of Malfoy property, but I'm not defenseless. I carry Stun-Pellets and an emergency Portkey. He grabbed my hands before I could reach them."

"Who was that guy?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. He was wearing a Glamour of some sort. I didn't notice it when we first started dancing. When I realized, I told him that I wasn't interested in anyone who had to hide. He didn't like being told no." Malfoy tried again to lift his glass and this time managed to guide it to his mouth. He drank it down in one gulp. "He caught me off guard," he added.

"Of course." Neville tossed back his shot as well.

"He did. How else do you explain how I've survived these past three years? What was I supposed to do? Never leave the Manor grounds for four years?" Malfoy signaled the bartender. "Two more."

"You're almost done then?"

"Seven more months." Malfoy turned to look Neville in the eye. "I'm sure you think I got off easy."

"No, not really. I think the war was hard on everyone."

The bartender came over and refilled their glasses. They each drank down the second shot.

"You've changed," Malfoy stated.

"You haven't changed since the war?"

"Yes, I've changed." Malfoy said solemnly. "But you, you had changed even before. Sometime sixth year. Certainly, in seventh. You look the same, but I don't even recognize you."

"We didn't know each other, not really."

"After everything I ever did to you, that the Death Eaters did to you…" Malfoy shook his head. "I think I drank too much."

Neville chuckled. "You look sober enough to me."

"I've never seen you in here before."

"First time. I was next door in the strip club."

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Harry's bachelor party," Neville clarified. "Charlie took pity on me and showed me the passageway."

"Now, Charlie Weasley I've seen in here."

"He mentioned that you're here all the time."

"I like to dance," Malfoy said with a hint of challenge to his tone.

"Do you want to?"

"What?"

"Now? Would you like to dance?" Neville gestured to the still crowded dance floor.

"This is the strangest evening," Malfoy said, shaking his head.

"Undoubtedly." Neville hopped off the barstool and held out his hand. "Come on."

Neville could see the wheels turning in Malfoy's head. Slowly, gracefully, he slid from the barstool and allowed Neville to lead him to the dance floor.

As they crossed the perimeter of the dance floor, the music volume increased dramatically. Neville could feel the thumping of the bass vibrating in his soles of his shoes. His gaze kept drifting down to the slit in Malfoy's robes and the minute teases of a patch of Malfoy's thigh clad in women's tights. It was sheer insanity to contemplate trying to pull Malfoy, but then again, Neville had never been known for having an astute sense of judgment. Neville turned his attention to Malfoy's face— milky skin, piercing gray eyes, and pouty lips were the obvious focal points, but Malfoy also had a general aesthetic that Neville liked. Despite the sharpness of his chin, cheekbones, and nose, there was a contemplative brow and gentle articulacy to his features. It was this subtlety of Malfoy's expression that Neville found attractive. The way Malfoy's body fluidly moved in perfect time with music didn't hurt either. Neville didn't have much rhythm and he often admired those who had such wonderful control over their bodies. Perhaps it wasn't control at all, but letting go.

"You're staring," Malfoy shouted above the pounding music.

"I like what I see."

Even under the dim multicolored lights of the dance floor, Neville could see Malfoy's blush. For Neville, it wasn't so much that he had grown confident, as much as he realized that he had very little to lose by attempting to get what he wanted, and in that moment, he wanted Malfoy.

Neville wrapped an arm around Malfoy's lower back, and gently pulled him closer. When Malfoy didn't resist, Neville reached his other hand around Malfoy's neck and pulled him down the inch or two so that their lips met. It was an awkward kiss to say the least. What else could be expected between two purebloods wizards with generations of actively pursuing opposing ideologies? On the other hand, they were young, gay wizards alone on a Saturday night. Neville put extra effort into the kiss and slid his hand down Malfoy's back and over his extremely fit arse.

"Fuck, Longbottom, if I had known…" Malfoy didn't finish his thought. He simply stared at Neville as if truly seeing him for the first time.

Neville appreciated the fact that Malfoy didn't bother to make anything up. They both knew without doubt that there was nothing either of them could have known that would have altered their choices in the past.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Malfoy asked.

"I live with my Gran," Neville replied sheepishly.

"My place then," Malfoy stated, and took Neville by the hand toward the back of the club.

"The Manor?" Neville asked nervously. He had never been, yet the thought of going there began to sour his enthusiasm.

"No. I moved out of the main house a few months after the war."

Feeling relieved, Neville continued to follow Malfoy through the back corridor. Instead of out the exit, he led him up a stairwell that Neville hadn't noticed there before. He decided that it probably had a similar enchantment on it like the club itself. Turning to the left at the top of the staircase, they entered a small office with a fireplace.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder from a tin on the mantle, Draco said, "I pay the owner monthly for use of the Floo."

Neville realized that Malfoy probably had various logistical difficulties getting around without the use of his wand to Apparate.

"Malfoy Gatehouse," Malfoy said loud and clear before being engulfed in flames.

Stepping into the fireplace, Neville repeated Malfoy's address. He stumbled forward out of the fireplace to the sight of Malfoy's wand pointed straight at him. For the briefest moment he cursed his stupidity for being so trusting, but Malfoy simply uttered a cleaning spell and stowed his wand.

Malfoy must have noticed Neville's reaction. He said, "I keep it on the hearth in case I need it in a hurry."

"I can imagine."

Malfoy looked straight into Neville's eyes. "You may be the first person that I've allowed in my home that I didn't think would try to hex me, yet you're the first person to actually have a legitimate reason to do so."

"You're right. I don't want to hex you, but I would like to fuck you," Neville said in a husky voice as he moved toward Malfoy. "I want to see what's under those robes. I didn't notice any trousers."

Neville backed Malfoy against the wall and insinuated a knee through the slit of Malfoy's robes. He reached a hand down and stroked the silky fabric over the top of Malfoy's thigh while sucking gently on Malfoy's neck.

"Ahhh," Malfoy breathed heavily. "So you like them. You're a little pervert, aren't you?"

"You have no idea." Neville ran his hand up Malfoy's leg and found the end of the tights. He traced the edge around with his index finger. "They're fucking crotchless," Neville gasped in surprise. "Now who's the perv?"

"Me," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Now what are you going to do about it?"

Neville cupped Malfoy's bollocks, which were enclosed in the thinnest barely there thong. "I'm going to bend you over and lick your arse until you beg me to fuck you, and then, yes, I'm going to fuck you in those tights, Malfoy."

"That's why I wear them, but they'll be no begging. Malfoys don't beg." Malfoy struggled to speak as Neville savagely ripped the sheer thong off of his body.

"Oh, I think you'll beg. You'll beg and you'll like it." Neville took Malfoy's hard cock in his hand and gave it a few insistent tugs.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," Malfoy suggested and gestured down the hall.

Neville followed him, and the moment they crossed the threshold they were kissing while clawing at the buttons of each other's robes. In between feverish gropes and attempts to remove clothing, Malfoy managed to aim his wand and light a half a dozen candles that were scattered about the modest bedroom. Robes, shirts, along with Neville's trousers and shoes hit the floor, and then with wands in hands, their bodies fell to the four-poster bed. Malfoy scratched Neville's back while they kissed and rolled across the bed, each in a frenzied attempt to show their own strength.

Neville flipped Malfoy onto his stomach and murmured a cleansing spell. He gently pulled Malfoy, still wearing his tights and boots, to his knees.

"You are such a slut, Malfoy," Neville whispered as he positioned himself behind Malfoy's arse.

"I heard rumors about you in seventh year. Something about you inside the Room of Requirement with just about everyone."

"That was for the war, stupid. Now shut your mouth. You're spoiling the mood." Neville parted Malfoy's creamy white cheeks.

"Color me surprised—"

But Malfoy was rendered incapacitated to finish his sentence. He gasped as Neville's tongue laved over his arsehole. Neville started with several long, slow licks using the full width of his tongue before niggling the tip at Malfoy's entrance. Never in his life did he expect to be eating Malfoy's arse, and he certainly couldn't have imagined that Malfoy would be enjoying it so much. Neville found perverse pleasure in knowing that the gentlest flicks of his tongue were making his former childhood enemy moan and writhe like a wanton whore.

The instant Neville's tongue breached the inside of the tiny pucker, there was indeed begging.

"Oh fuck. Fuck. Merlin, that's… fuck me. Please, fuck me."

Neville spit on two fingers and slipped them into Malfoy's hole.

"You fucking… oh yeah. Right THERE!"

Neville ran one hand over Malfoy's tight clad thighs, enjoying the feel of the thin fabric under his fingertips while continuing to thrust two fingers in and out of Malfoy's arse. "You like that?"

"Yeah," Malfoy panted. "Yeah."

"You want my cock?"

"Yeah."

"I thought Malfoys didn't beg," Neville said with a soft chuckle. This was so much more fun than Harry's bachelor party.

"Fuck you."

Neville stilled his fingers. "Tsk, tsk, that's not what you were saying a moment ago."

"Fine. Please," Malfoy said without much conviction.

Neville pumped his fingers and began to play with Malfoy's pendulous bollocks. They were a darling pair, swinging so nicely between his skinny legs, framed by the crotchless tights that hugged the outside of Malfoy's arse and thighs.

"Fuck, pleeeeease," Malfoy moaned, begging in earnest.

Neville cast a lubrication spell and worked in a third finger.

"Stop playing and fuck me already!"

"Well, since you insist." Neville positioned his cock at Malfoy's hole and slowly, taking every ounce of will power and restraint, pushed inside. Neville stroked down the curve of Malfoy's spine as he panted and gradually rocked against him. "All right?" Neville asked.

"Yes. Fine. Go."

Neville drank in the intoxicating sight of Malfoy's cheeks spread before him as he began to slide in and out. The pressure on his cock was sublime, but the satisfaction of fucking Draco Malfoy shot sparks of pleasure through his body. Neville fucked Malfoy hard, pumping his hips faster and faster. Still he held back a bit, determined to savor this encounter for as long as humanly possible.

Reluctantly Neville pulled out. "Turn over."

Malfoy complied, looking up at Neville with lust filled eyes. His cock was red, swollen, and dripping pre-come.

"I want to tie your arms," Neville said softly. For a brief moment, Malfoy's eyes filled with panic. "You can keep your wand in your hand," Neville clarified. "That okay?"

Malfoy nodded.

Neville Summoned his socks and Transfigured them into two long black silk scarves. Carefully he tied Malfoy's wrists to the two posts at the head of the bed. Malfoy kept a firm grip on his wand.

"I've never…" Malfoy muttered.

"Shhh. I imagine you wouldn't have. Trust me, okay?"

"All right," Malfoy said nervously.

Neville took the other man's flagging erection in his hand and stroked it back to full hardness. "I want this to feel good for both of us. That I promise you."

Neville grabbed Malfoy's tight clad thighs and spread them wide. He knelt low and pulled Malfoy's arse up to meet his dick. With one hand, Neville guided the tip back inside and grinned as Malfoy stretched his legs even wider.

"You look so fine, lying there, spread for me."

"Who would've guessed? Neville Longbottom, sexual hedonist."

Neville pushed forward with one long, brutal thrust causing Malfoy to stop talking and simply moan with pleasure. The fucking became rough and frenetic. Neville braced his hands under the backs of Malfoy's knees and pounded as hard and as fast as he could. The sounds of moaning, panting, and the slapping of skin filled the small candlelit bedroom. Neville watched Malfoy's face contort with pleasure. At some point Malfoy released his death grip on his wand and it dropped to the bed. The idea of Malfoy helplessly tied up beneath him, submitting wholly and completely, sent Neville over the precipice. He pumped furiously into Malfoy's arse and came with a wild groan.

Neville closed his eyes and took several steadying breaths. When he opened them, he saw Malfoy staring up at him— hard, desperate, and wanting. He reached for Malfoy's cock and stroked it leisurely with a firm grip while his own softening cock slipped out from Malfoy's arse. Neville slid down to lie on his side so that he could playfully nip and lick at Malfoy's bollocks. Malfoy pulled at his restraints and moaned loudly.

"Would you like me to suck your cock?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Malfoy begged. "Yes. Please."

"It's a lovely cock. And look, the carpet matches the drapes. I have a thing for natural blonds."

"Stop teasing me. Please," Malfoy begged again as he struggled against his bindings. His hips canted off the bed in a desperate attempt to force his cock through Neville's grip.

"Oh, I like you this way, Malfoy," Neville said with a snicker, and then swallowed Malfoy's cock down to the root.

Malfoy attempted to pump into Neville's mouth, but Neville pressed his hips to the mattress. Malfoy continued to writhe and fight against the restraints as Neville hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck. Sweet Merlin. Fuck." Malfoy moaned a continuous litany of curses and expletives. It was music to Neville's ears. He worked two fingers into Malfoy's loose, wet hole and fucked him as he sucked his cock. Malfoy came with a ferocious roar and Neville swallowed.

Without being asked, Neville removed Malfoy's boots and then slowly pulled off the tights. After tossing them to the floor, he untied the scarves and tenderly massaged Malfoy's wrists. "You were brilliant," he said as he handed Malfoy's wand back to him.

Malfoy blew out a long deep breath and collapsed back against the pillows. Neville lay on his side running the tips of his fingers through the wispy blond hair on Malfoy's flat stomach. They lay there silently in the candlelight, taking in the post-coital view of each other, exploring one another's bodies with light caresses and guarded emotions.

"There's a Confundus Potion that can be reduced and dried into a powder. I like to make it to carry around with me. For protection. I haven't been able to brew it recently because I need Timera root. It's rather hard to come by." Malfoy said all this staring at the ceiling as if he was making idle pillow talk.

Neville couldn't stop the smile from forming on his lips. "I'm quite certain that it's been published in the The Prophet that I'm employed by Phillida Spore."

"Really?" Malfoy turned to face Neville.

"No need to play coy, I had my dick in your arse not ten minutes ago. If you want something, you only have to ask."

"I'm a Slytherin. I'm not much for the straightforward approach."

"I'm a head on type of guy. You'll know where you stand with me."

"Gryffindor."

"You know I used to think that perhaps the Sorting Hat got it mixed up, that I should've been in Hufflepuff."

Malfoy chuckled. "I think most of our year had that exact thought."

"It's nice to be proven wrong. I used to think there was nothing good about you."

"Ah, now there's my arse."

Neville leaned in close to Malfoy's face. "Among other things." He kissed Malfoy slow and certain while draping his leg over Malfoy's. "I wouldn't mind seeing you again. I can bring the Timera root with me next time."

"Hmmm, trying to negotiate an exchange of plants for sex, perhaps you should have been in Slytherin."

"Perhaps, but right now I'm knackered. Do you mind if I sleep here? The wedding isn't until the late afternoon."

Malfoy stared at him and Neville could sense him working the situation out in his head.

"You think entirely too much," Neville said, and then placed a quick kiss to Malfoy's shoulder. "Good night." Turning over, he maneuvered his way under the bedclothes and went to sleep thinking that they just might be able to chisel out quite the mutually beneficial arrangement.


*La Fin*


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