Title: Midnight Delights
Author: tryslora
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Draco/Theodore Nott, Draco/Pansy/Theodore
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Happy Birthday again! (a prequel this time)
Other Warnings: prostitution, pegging, oral sex
Word Count: ~6k
Summary/Description: Sixteen months, two days, and eighteen hours after he is granted parole and absolved from all wrong-doing by the Wizengamot, Draco Malfoy still has no idea what to do with his life. Blaise, however, has an idea...
Author's Notes: Happy birthday again to Daily Deviant! Back when I first wrote Simple Gifts Make For Complicated Nights, folks (I don’t recall specifically who, I’m sorry!) wondered aloud what Draco’s story was prior to that—how he came to be the man that Luna hired for Neville. So I decided to step backwards in time and take a look. Hope you enjoy! And of course, I do not own the world or characters of Harry Potter; I just like to play with them.


Sixteen months, two days, and eighteen hours after he is granted parole and absolved from all wrong-doing by the Wizengamot, Draco Malfoy still has no idea what to do with his life. He sits outside a cafe two streets over from Diagon Alley, watching people hurry by and idly noting that the three tables closest to him are empty, while every other table is packed full. Someone steps out of the cafe, drink and pastry in hand, and instead of choosing an empty table, they beg permission to join the couple already sitting at one farther away from Draco.

He sees the glance that darts his way, and he smirks in response. It is still cool in the spring air, but he pushes his sleeves up anyway, baring pale skin and the darkness of the ink on the inside of his forearm, and the stranger quickly looks away.

They are afraid of him. Even though he has been declared innocent, even though Harry Potter himself vouched for Draco on the witness stand, the people of the wizarding world are still wary. He smiles thinly and gathers his things, tossing them in the bin nearby. As he moves through the gate and out onto the sidewalk, there is motion and by the time he looks back, three out of the four empty tables are filled; only the one he just vacated remains empty, as if it has been polluted it by his very presence.

He feels sick in the wake of their dark regard.

During his job interview that morning he was reminded—once more—that there is no one looking to hire a dark wizard. Five positions have deigned to interview him so far, but he has also received three notices of rejection rather than be granted an interview, and one letter claiming that he ought to pay for a position rather than be paid, because of course, the Malfoy coffers are flush with gold.

But the Malfoy coffers are not flush with gold. What money there is has been provisioned to the Ministry in reparations, being paid out to ensure there are repairs to Hogwarts and to help those families injured by the Malfoys in particular. Draco has a small income allowed, and his mother has her own allowance, but it is a pittance compared to what he is used to. They still have the Manor after a fashion, given to his mother in thanks for her aid in saving Potter’s life; it is now Black property, no longer Malfoy Manor. His father is in Azkaban, and will remain there for another dozen years, at the least.

Draco could live at home, but he cannot bear to see the way his mother languishes.

So he tries to find something to do with his life, some way to move forward and leave the war behind. But at every turn he is reminded of who he was and therefore, who the wizarding world believes he is.

He has no control over his life, and after sixteen months, two days, and now nineteen hours, he cannot figure out what to do.

#

“You like sex.” Blaise drops into the other chair at the table in their small kitchen, one hand raised in question as he stretches out his legs.

“Of course.” Draco’s tone is dry because it’s a lie. He has certainly had sex, but the past year has not been a merry one for him. Sex is a means to an end, a way to lose himself in the five seconds that his mind flies loose from his body during climax. “Who doesn’t enjoy a decent orgasm?” He arches one eyebrow. “Is there a point to this conversation, Blaise?”

“I enjoy sex.” Blaise intertwines his fingers, hands against his stomach. “And I happen to be good at pleasing my partners. From what I understand, you also are reasonably skilled in bed. Pansy had only compliments, after all, and she is not easy to please.”

“She preferred tongue to prick, but yes.” Draco shrugs one shoulder. “Again, do you have a point?”

Blaise flicks his hand, producing a business card. “We are officially Midnight Delights.”

Draco takes the card, turning it over to see his name emblazoned with Blaise’s, proclaiming that everyone’s deepest desires are best served in the dark. “Are you proposing that we sell our services?”

The answering grin is sharp and bright. “I am. We are both flexible, talented, and we need work. I’ve already taken the liberty of assuming your participation and have placed an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. All we need to do now is wait for clients to respond.”

“And when they realize that they’ve contracted with a dark wizard to provide them pleasure?” Draco asks dryly, both eyebrows raised. “What makes you think they’ll choose to pay or fuck at that point?”

“The simple fact that we will already know that they are willing to pay for sex,” Blaise says, a small smirk twisting his lips. “Imagine if someone from the Wizengamot were to contact you… you could expose them, or they could simply take their pleasure and pay you in exchange for your silence. You gain money, they gain what they wish with no damage to their reputation.”

“I’d rather not think about pleasuring most members of the Wizengamot.” Draco shudders.

“Our rates are not low.” Blaise brings out a neatly rolled parchment. “I’ve taken it upon myself to draw up a rate sheet. I think you’ll find that our offer is quite exclusive, designed to appeal to those who prefer only the best.”

“And those who believe that the more you pay, the better the service.” Draco glances down the line of prices. There’s nothing on the list that he hasn’t done, although there are several things listed that he doesn’t want to do with strangers. “I refuse to play the submissive for someone I do not know.”

“There will be safeguards, for us and for them.” Blaise lays out another parchment. “Our standard contract, thoroughly revised and approved by Theodore Nott, who has agreed to act as our legal counsel.”

“He’s not a solicitor.”

“Not yet, but he will be, as he has somehow remained untainted by his father’s involvement in the war.” Blaise leans back. “This isn’t some passing thought, Draco. It has been more than a year since we were fully cleared, and neither of us is working. Neither of us has any prospects, and we have little money, and I am sick of this flat. Did you know that our neighbor yodels when he comes?”

“His girlfriend occasionally bleats like a goat.”

Blaise shudders. “I have heard that as well. Sound carries well through the walls, and I should like to have the wherewithal to procure a place with some privacy. As close as we are, I do not want to hear when you wank at night.” He raises one hand, fingers open. “So?”

It isn’t as if sex means anything. It hasn’t for a very long time, and Draco doubts that it ever will again. He shrugs one shoulder. “I see no other options for the time being, so why not. At the least, it should be entertaining.”

After sixteen months, three days, and two hours, Draco Malfoy is finally gainfully employed.

#

He arrives at the location for his first assignment with five minutes to spare, apparating in to a space just down the street and walking up to the door. Draco has no idea who it is, only that Blaise reviewed the contract and the signatures, and has assured him that all safeguards have been met. The case file states that it is a couple, requesting assistance to help spice up their marriage, and Draco has come supplied with a variety of possible options, all purchased from the best outlets at a price that was far steeper than he had hoped to spend.

He is two days into this new job, and he has already spent his allowance for the month on supplies. He can only hope that everything goes as planned and money changes hands tonight. If even a small amount of his options are selected, it will likely pay for the supplies and a decent breakfast in the morning after all is said and done.

It is easy to see why Blaise chose this option; if it works, he and Draco will be set for life.

He touches the side of his robes, feeling where his case lies shrunk and tucked into a pocket. Then he raps upon the door and waits.

When it opens, it takes everything he has not to take a step back in surprise. “Pansy.”

“Draco.” She reaches out and grips his wrist tightly, tugging him inside and closing the door. “Don’t linger on the doorstep. Didn’t Blaise teach you anything about subtlety? You always were completely daft about it. As if we couldn’t tell you were up to your eyeballs in something horrible during sixth year.” Her words are chiding even as she brushes imaginary dust from his robes, her small hands flitting over him as if she looks for wounds or damage.

He captures her hands, bringing them up so that he can kiss her fingertips. “Pansy,” he repeats, waiting until she looks at him. “What are you doing here? This isn’t your home.”

“Well, of course it isn’t. Do you think we’d entertain a whore at our house?” Her mouth twists into a moue of apology. “I’m sorry, Draco, I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“Why not? It’s what I am.” He understands now, his mind connecting the dots swiftly. Blaise knows about Draco’s past with both Theo and Pansy and would assume this is an easy assignment. Blaise also knows that Pansy does not know about Draco’s past with Theo and likely finds amusement in the idea of her finding out. And of course they are having trouble; Theo is dry as dust and prefers to be fucked, and while Pansy enjoys being in charge in her life, she wants to be taken apart in the bedroom, preferably without a prick involved. And it is not as if either would bother to actually explain their preferences. Draco sighs. “Should I just undress here, or does this place have a furnished bedroom?”

Pansy puts her hand in his, curling their fingers together. “A bedroom, of course. We are not savages, darling. Besides, I have been telling Theodore how absolutely marvelous you are at cunnilingus and he has promised to pay close attention. I want you to teach him all your tricks. If I can’t come twice before he puts his prick in me, then he isn’t doing his job properly, and darling…” She leans up on her toes, tugging him down so she can whisper loudly, “He’s lucky most nights if he can even get me to come at all.”

Draco waits on his response, holding for the two beats it takes for Pansy to push open the door they’ve stopped at. He can see Theo sitting on the bed, his robes discarded, pants loose around his flaccid prick. He smiles thinly. “That’s because Theo is gay, my dear,” he tells her. “But don’t worry, I have exactly the thing to help you entice him to give you a good tonguing, and it can be yours to take home for only a small additional cost.”

Her eyes go wide. “But we’re your friends.”

“And my first clients.” Draco brings out the contract, unrolling it as he lays it on the table, the options he has brought magically lit. “As I’m certain Theo will explain, I can hardly expect to begin my business by giving discounts and exceptions. You do understand. Quality is something you have to pay for.”

She stops where she is, hand slipping from his hand to his arm, lightly touching him. “Of course.” There is a shift in her voice, and he feels her pull away from him. She is still his friend, but in this moment, she has become a client as well, and it makes a change to their relationship that will never change back.

He could have done this for free, had she asked. Had either of them ever thought to ask his help, he would have spoken to them. But now it is business, and Draco refuses to back down. Instead, he gestures to the parchment. “As has already been stated, we will be indulging in oral sex. I happen to have brought a prick for Pansy—I didn’t know it was for you, my dear, but I thought it might be an option for any couple looking for a change—which can be yours to keep for an additional price. Initial here.” He hands the quill to Theo, who is quick to place his signature in the places that Draco indicates—oral sex, instruction, pegging (with additional equipment and lubrication costs), and of course, buggering. He offers options for length of time, nudging Theodore towards signing for the more expensive four hour option while fully intending to fuck them into oblivion well before then.

“Strip,” Draco orders, as soon as the funds are signed over and the parchment is rolled and tucked into a tube which sends it safely to Blaise. He undoes his robes and lets them slide from his shoulders, noting the way that Pansy’s gaze lingers over his chest, while Theo’s gaze drops immediately to his crotch. Draco arches one eyebrow. “Do you want to touch?”

He wears no pants, no obstruction to their fingertips as they both crowd in close. Pansy’s fingers skate over his chest, tipping over his nubbed nipples before moving to his shoulder, then his back. “You have new scars, darling,” she murmurs.

Draco’s breath is a soft hiss as Theo wraps his hand around his prick, stroking quickly and rolling over the head, the way Theo knows Draco likes it. “There was a war,” he manages to reply. “Do you want to talk scars, or do you want me to make you scream with only the use of my tongue?”

Theo goes to his knees, silent as he sucks the tip of Draco’s prick into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head. Pansy stands behind Draco, her chin on his shoulder as she leans up to peer at Theo. “I never knew,” she muses. “I suppose it explains a lot.”

“I spent a good part of seventh year buggering him in a closet when we needed to escape from the insanity,” Draco mutters. “I will teach you how to please him, and I am more than certain that he will happily please you in return. Theo has always done whatever needs to be done in order to get what he desires. Isn’t that true?” His hips shift as he tangles his hand in Theo’s hair, fucking into his mouth. It’s tempting to just let Theo do what he loves to do, but he has a job here, and this is not a part of it. With a sigh, he pulls back and reaches for Theo, pulling him to standing. “Isn’t that true, Theo?”

“Anything you want if you’ll fuck me, Pansy.” The word drops harshly from Theo’s lips, at odds with the crisp tightness of his manner of speaking.

“All you had to do was ask,” she replies, and Draco can hear the smile in her voice. “I trust you’ll show me how?”

“Pansy, my dear, I will show you how to fuck Theo into the mattress until he’s begging for you to let him finish. I will show you how to open him up and make him cry he wants you so much,” Draco murmurs. “Let’s start with preparing him. Theo, on the bed with your arse in the air.”

Draco summons the tiny vial of lubricant that he had purchased. He has used this particular brand before and he knows exactly how well it works, despite its entirely unassuming appearance. He waits for Theo to situate himself on the bed before he brings Pansy over. “Hold out your hand,” he tells her, and as soon as she does, he spills two drops of fluid onto her fingertip. “Rub them together; feel the way it changes.”

He does the same for himself; those four drops are more than enough to open Theo and ready him for a good fuck. The particular toy he chose is slender, since he had expected a husband with no experience, and his entire plan was to show the wife how to stimulate the prostate and work up to the freeing sensation of a good fuck. Finding out that Theo is the intended recipient is an unexpected providence.

“Obviously, you’ll begin here.” Draco nudges Theo’s cheeks apart, baring his puckered hole. “This particular lubricant is specially made, intended for this exact purpose. It reacts with the skin to create a very slick slip and slide, similar to the fluids you produce naturally. You’ll find that the magical properties of this particular formulation ensure that the slick sensation increases with more friction.”

“Pedantic explanations have never been arousing,” Theo mutters.

Draco swats his arse, leaving a reddened hand print behind. “I beg to differ. I seem to remember fucking you while you memorized equations for arithmancy, and keeping you hard until you had completed the entire chapter. You spilled all over my hand while still chanting the answers, and your Quick Quotes Quill recorded your groans as a part of your assignment.”

Pansy reaches out, closing her hand around Theo’s prick, stroking him. “I have to agree with Draco; you are quite hard, Theodore. Can you make him whimper, Draco? I’ve never quite managed that.”

“Again, Pansy, he’s gay. He’s not likely to sigh with pleasure over your twat, nor is he going to do more than he has to while fucking you. Although I’d imagine he rather likes to shove his prick down your throat.” Draco gives her a small smile. “You were always good at sucking cock.”

“And I still am,” she agrees with a smirk. “So you think you can supply me with a prick of my own?”

“I know I can, but you can’t just shove it in, dear. Men don’t lubricate on their own.” Draco strokes the pad of his thumb around the opening. “You need to prepare him. Open him. Now, you’ll learn your own techniques, and in time you might decide to use your tongue, but for tonight, we’ll be using fingers, then a small toy to keep him open and well-aware of our future plans while he takes care of you. Put your finger here.”

He helps her move her finger, gently circling until Theo pushes back and Pansy exhales roughly when the tip of her finger pushes into him. “Exactly,” Draco murmurs. “Do it again. Like this.” He lets his own finger slip through the crack of her ass, nudging inside of her. She is tight, and the sound she makes is surprised, but she doesn’t disagree. “Is that comfortable?”

“Tight,” Pansy says.

“Good,” Theo replies. “You can go harder.”

Pansy smacks him, adding her own small handprint next to Draco’s. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted this? Everything would have been much simpler.” She blinks when he whines. “Oh bloody hell, you like that, too? Draco, are lessons on beating my husband until he orgasms from that alone included in tonight’s entertainment?”

“Not tonight, but if you care to contract with Midnight Delights for another evening, I’m certain we could draw up something to help you learn the ins and outs of safe bondage and sadism.” He nudges a second finger into her carefully, and she does the same to Theo without him needing to tell her. “And yes, Theo likes it rough. Did you honestly think the Death Eaters gave him all those bruises?”

“You were a Death Eater,” Theo points out. “It wasn’t a lie.”

“Quiet.” Draco slaps his flank this time for a fresh handprint. “Pansy, add a third finger and twist slightly, like this. I’d show you what you’re looking for, but unfortunately, women simply aren’t equipped the same way. Stroke and you’ll know when you’ve found the right spot. You might have to search around for a bit, and don’t be afraid to push into him hard. He’s getting ready for you, and if I know Theo, he’ll want you to take him as hard as you like soon.”

Pansy’s lips are pursed as she twists and turns her hand, Theo rocking back against her every thrust. She closes her eyes as she tries different angles, and stops dead the moment Theo whimpers. “What was that?” she asks, and strokes again, rewarded by another whine. Her eyes fly open, bright and wide and she repeats it one more time, pushing harder until he cries out, rocking back into her and pleading.

“Could you come from this?” she asks, and when he nods, her smile widens. “Oh, this is lovely.”

“But,” Draco says, wrapping his fingers tight about her wrist to stop her from moving, “we are not done yet, and I think that in the interest of fun for all, we should make Theo wait for his own pleasure until he has ensured that everyone else is taken care of. In your case: twice. Yes?”

She withdraws her fingers slowly, wiping the sticky fluid off on the sheets. “Yes.”

Draco summons the plug from his bag and places it in her hands. “We’re going to use this to ensure he doesn’t forget exactly what he’s working towards. Just push it in carefully until the thickest part is inside; it’ll hold itself there even when he moves around.”

She does it slowly, stopping every time Theo whines, waiting until he stills before she starts up again. By the time it is seated, Theo is panting, breath shuddering, and Draco suspects that he is on the edge of orgasm. He pulls Pansy away, her back flush against his front, and he strokes his fingers over her nipples. She likes it hard, too, sometimes, so he pinches one nipple sharply, twisting it until she moans.

“Sit down, Theo, and do not touch yourself. Watch me with Pansy.” Draco lets his prick slide into the crack of her ass, where the fluid is still slick, giving him something he can thrust into without actually penetrating her. He shifts slightly, just enough to give her that bit of friction, teasing at her lips while his hands stroke over her breasts. He kisses her neck, tonguing at her skin, then nipping. “Foreplay,” he murmurs. “But what our Pansy likes most is a tongue on her fanny. She wants you to lick her until she’s screaming—and she will scream—and you can fuck her with your fingers. If you do everything right, Theo, you’ll never have to put your cock inside of her. She’ll come on your tongue, then she’ll fuck you. It’ll be the perfect sex life for the two of you, I believe.”

He slowly moves back to the bed, sitting and bringing Pansy onto his lap. Theo’s gaze drops to where Draco’s cock peeks out through Pansy’s lips, and Draco can’t resist stroking it, just once, and observing the way Theo’s pupils go wide and dark. “Watch,” he says quietly, and Theo’s attention remains riveted as Draco slides one slender finger along Pansy’s slit, opening her up. “There is a time to be rough, but this is not it. Ensure that your finger or tongue is slick… the more slippery it is, the better you can tease her clitoris.” Draco spreads her lips, showing Theo the hard nub where it peeks out from under its hood. “The reason she prefers a tongue to fingers is that it is wet, slippery, and yet produces pressure where she wants without uncomfortable or painful friction.”

“Draco has a talented tongue,” Pansy murmurs.

“So you’ve said,” Theo replies dryly. “Often.”

“He should apply it.” Pansy twists to look at him. “Now, darling.”

Draco picks her up, rotating to lay her back on the bed, pushing her legs up and spreading her wide. “Watch,” he reminds Theo. “I shan’t be able to talk, so you’ll be expected to repeat the process on your own shortly.”

She is already slick and loose, so he doesn’t bother with trying to prepare her more. Instead he simply pushes two fingers into her, filling her with them and setting up a slow stroke for her to push against before he sets to work. He exaggerates the motions as he pushes her legs wide, holds her open and exposed. He starts at the bottom and licks up through her slick lips, teasing around his fingers and all around her clit before he rolls his tongue over the nub. When she whines and pushes up against him, he gives her more pressure, losing himself in the salty taste and the give and take of controlling her every move. It is easy to forget that Theo is watching, as Pansy twists beneath his tongue and Draco reads the motion of her body, following where she tries to lead. He curls his fingers, fucking her slowly and gently while he rolls his tongue over her nub, then goes just below it, licking back up and around it. There’s a moment when he can tell she’s close, and he knows exactly how to get her to go over, sucking at her clit while his fingers push even harder into her. She arches up under him and cries out, a burst of wet covering his chin and hand in her orgasm.

“I have missed that so much, darling,” she murmurs, carding her fingers through his hair.

He sits back on his knees, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Theo paid close attention the entire time,” Draco tells her with a smile. He has no idea if Theo did or he didn’t, but he knows Theo will at least try, in order to gain his reward. “And now it is his turn to get you off, while I fuck him.” He sees her moue of disappointment, and hastens to assure her, “Only enough to whet his appetite. I assure you, he will not reach his completion until you have had your chance.”

He slides out of the way, guiding Theo into position, his head down over Pansy’s twat and his arse in the air. He presses in close, prick sliding between Theo’s thighs where the drip of lubrication has made them slick. He leans over, whispering in Theo’s ear, “I am only going to fuck you when she cries out. Make her happy, and I will bugger your arse so hard you’ll be begging to come.”

Draco needs another drop of lubricant that spreads quickly over his prick, readying himself. He keeps his hands on Theo’s arse, cheeks spread and his thumbs pressed against his hole. “Start at the bottom and don’t forget your fingers,” he instructs gently. “Pay close attention to her clit when it peeks out again, but give it time. Right now she’ll want it a bit deeper until she recovers from her first orgasm.”

At Pansy’s first whimper, he pushes one thumb into Theo all the way to the knuckle, twisting it a bit, just a slow, shallow fuck to encourage him to continue. “Go with what she tells you. Even though she’s not talking, you can read her body,” Draco tells him softly. “Follow her. Listen to her.”

When Pansy reaches out, grips Theo’s hair to guide him, Draco finally presses into him and fucks him slowly. It feels good to be inside another human being again. The heat, the warmth… he could lose himself here as much as he did in Pansy. He could lose control and simply let Theo take everything Draco can give, but he can’t, not when he’s here to be paid.

It’s only sex, after all. He’ll have his orgasm and five seconds of bliss in the end.

He times his thrusts to Theo’s strokes, speeding up when Pansy’s whimpers and whines are louder, slowing down when he hears the distinct note of frustration from her.

“Do it,” Theo begs. “Draco, fuck me. Just… fuck me.”

“If you get Pansy off, I will fuck you until you’re screaming, but you will not come,” Draco orders. “Do you understand?”

Theo nods, and Draco starts to push him harder, hips snapping as he fucks into him, waiting for that moment when Pansy arches with a thin cry, and collapses back on the bed. He dimly hears Theo begging him again as he lets go, losing himself for the moment in the sensation of fucking, of the tight squeeze of Theo’s arse, the way it clenches around him, and the low building whine in his throat. Draco’s fingers dig into Theo’s hips, mapping familiar planes as he grips hard, likely leaving bruises behind. He couldn’t stop now if he tried, burying himself as deep as he can until the orgasm bubbles up and bursts out, filling Theo’s arse with thick, sticky jism.

He rests in that moment when he feels like he’s flying, when the world means nothing at all.

It snaps back into focus with Pansy’s voice saying his name, and Theo’s whine begging please.

Draco pulls out even as he raises one hand, summoning the double-ended dildo he had purchased. “Come here, Pansy,” he orders, his voice thick and hoarse. “This end goes inside of you, and when you activate it, you will feel the other end as if it is your own.” He helps her slide the thick ball between her slick lips and get it seated inside her, holding it so it can’t slip free before she activates it.

She sighs at the feel of it, strokes her hand over it. “Merlin. That feels good. I’m going to enjoy this.”

Theo whines softly, and she gently pats his flank. “You will too, my dear one. I promise,” she tells him. “I am going to make you feel so good. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Please, Pansy.” Theo looks up at her, reaching out. His palm falls flat against her cheek and she leans into it, kissing his hand gently.

Draco looks away, unable to watch their expressions. He may have fucked them both in the past—he may have had sex with them now—but he is not a part of that relationship. No matter their sexuality, they love each other, that much is clearly evident. He gives them a moment before he clears his throat. “You’ll need another drop of lubricant for your prick, Pansy,” he says quietly.

They move apart slowly, Theo’s head bowing as Pansy moves behind him. Draco comes in close and helps guide her into him, teaching her how to read the tension in his body, to know when it burns and she needs to slow down and to know when he is begging for more, for her to simply let go and fuck.

She starts so slowly and gently that he can still feel the emotion between them. He sees the moment when the feedback begins, when Pansy feels the squeeze around the cock she wears, when she finds that spot inside of Theo and he shivers and shakes.

They don’t need him anymore after that, and he finds a place in the high-backed chair near the bed, sitting quietly and waiting for them to be done. It is almost painful to watch, more lovemaking than sex, and Draco cannot relate to it. It is supposed to be quick and complete, and he lets his mind drift so he doesn’t have to see it.

They finish in a flurry of squelching, squishy noises accompanied by soft words and loud cries. The bed squeaks as they collapse onto it in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Draco returns his attention to them and one eyebrow arches.

“I take it you are well pleased with my services?”

“Go into marriage counseling,” Pansy murmurs, her head pillowed on Theo’s chest. “You are well suited for it. Help couples find themselves in the bedroom.”

“You’ve only been married six months,” Draco scoffs. “How could you have truly lost yourselves yet? You would have found your way without this. I’ve only been able to give you a hard nudge. It’s sex. It’s hardly complicated.”

“Not everyone is as at ease with sex as you or Blaise,” Theo points out. “I think Midnight Delights will be a success.”

“I intend to recommend it to my friends,” Pansy says. “Not that any would admit to desiring such services. And not that I would admit to using such.”

“Of course,” Draco says dryly. “I’ll be pleased to have you recommend me as the whore you never had.”

They are curled together, eyes heavily lidded and limbs limp with pleasure. He shifts uncomfortably in the chair, uncertain now how to either end this or go on with the evening, when they are so obviously done.

“Oh, darling, just do up your robes and go.” Pansy’s fingers flick in the air. “I know we paid for longer, but I think we can take it from here on our own. Right, Theodore?”

“Very much so.”

“Very well then.” Draco stands and bows, the move prim and proper despite his nudity. He retrieves his robes and what is left of the supplies that he brought with him. “Pansy, do enjoy your prick, and Theo, do not forget that if you do not please her, she will not please you. Marriage is a two way street, or so I’ve been told.” He smiles thinly. “Good evening, and I shall see myself out.”

#

Blaise is waiting when he returns to the flat, sitting on the sofa, feet up and a glass of fire whiskey in one hand. Draco arches one eyebrow. “Did your appointment go short?”

“Did yours?” Blaise counters. “The money is still good, no matter how long it does or doesn’t take. I assure you, we will be well recommended by my client tonight.”

“And by mine. Although I need to invest in a bag of tricks to leave behind.” Draco falls back onto the sofa, reaching for the fresh glass Blaise pours for him. “Perhaps we should have a package deal so that clients may select a particular bag of toys that they prefer for us to bring, and the option to keep them at the end of the night.”

“Polyjuice,” Blaise muses. “We need to have that in stock as well, and the ability to obtain the hair or certain well-known personages. Tonight I was asked if there was any possibility that I could be Harry Potter in the future.”

Draco snorts. “Because everyone wants the Golden Boy Who Refuses To Die.”

“Exactly.”

Draco takes a long gulp from his glass, feeling the burn all the way down. He holds it aside and tilts his head back agains the sofa, eyes closed. “It wasn’t a bad evening, all told, and the money is good. I think perhaps you’ve done well with this idea.”

“We’ll be brilliant at it, you know. Acclaimed artists of sexual perversion.”

Draco tilts his head, his eyebrow arching once more. “Please do not put that on our business cards.”

Blaise smirks. “I’ll wait until you become more accustomed to the concept. It’s a compliment, I assure you.”

So this is his life now. Sixteen months, five days, and seven hours after being granted his freedom, not to mention well before his twentieth birthday, and apparently he plans to become one of the most well-known and sought after whores of London. Draco sighs and lifts his glass again, holding it between them. “To Midnight Delights,” he says.

Blaise touches glass to glass with a clink, and they both drink, swallowing the burn.

The deal is made and their course is set. There is no going back.