Al has a secret. It’s something he’s not shared with anyone, especially not his Housemates, who would tease the fuck out of him for it. Oh no, he’s careful to keep quiet about it. But there are times he can’t help himself, because Draco Malfoy is sex on legs.
He knows Scorpius would be a more appropriate choice, but there’s just something about the way his dad walks, holds himself, smirks…fuck, everything the man does is dead sexy. Even his bloody voice, which can take Al from half hard to fully erect in about a sentence.
And the first time he sees the man smoke, Al knows he’s doomed.
Mr Malfoy’s slow, deliberate movements as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with the glowing tip of his wand make something inside Al burn with lust, and despite the public setting, and the presence of his entire sodding family, Al trembles with the desire to walk over to the man and offer himself up.
The Ministry reception is in full swing by the time Al manages to extricate himself from his family and follow Mr Malfoy out onto one of the conjured balconies that ring the ballroom.
Whoever’s done the charms work is a bloody genius. There’s even a cool breeze when Al steps onto the balcony, and the roar of the gathered crowd dims.
Mr Malfoy is gazing out at the scene, a moonlit field. The smoke from his cigarette is curling into the air. He says nothing as Al hesitantly steps up beside him.
Al clears his throat and Mr Malfoy finally turns to face him, his expression polite. “Albus.”
“Hello, Mr Malfoy.”
Mr Malfoy takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into Al’s face. Unable to help himself, Al closes his eyes and inhales.
When he opens his eyes, Mr Malfoy is looking at him with amusement and…speculation? “Would you like a cigarette?” he murmurs.
Al, tempted, glances towards the ballroom, but no one is looking. “I don’t think—”
Mr Malfoy’s mouth curves upwards. “Ah. Of course. Your family wouldn’t approve.”
Al, sure they wouldn’t approve of what he really wants to do with Mr Malfoy, licks his lips and tries to seem sophisticated. “I’m not worried about them.”
“No?” Mr Malfoy hums, then pulls the cigarette from his mouth and offers it. “How about a trial…suck, then?”
Biting back a moan, Al accepts the cigarette, sliding it into his mouth. He takes a pull and immediately begins coughing. He coughs so hard the fag falls out of his mouth and onto the ground.
Humiliated, Al wipes tears from is eyes. “Sorry—” he gasps between coughs.
Mr Malfoy tuts. “No need to apologise. It takes some getting used to.” He offers Al a handkerchief, which Al gratefully accepts.
Once he’s collected himself, Al tried to hand him back his kerchief. Mr Malfoy eyes it, shaking his head. “Keep it. Consider it a gift.”
Al blinks. Of course the man wouldn’t take a filthy handkerchief. He clears is throat. “I’ll return it when it’s clean,” he promises, shoving it in his pocket.
Mr Malfoy’s smile is sharp. “As you wish. Although the thought of you having something of mine is…pleasing.” Pulling another cigarette from his pocket, he lights it, then begins to turn away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“I…can I try again?”
Mr Malfoy pauses. “Try…another cigarette, you mean?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Um…” Al swallows hard, but steps closer. “Maybe if I practise sucking something else first?” he whispers, dropping his eyes. He can feel his face burning, but if this is how only chance, he doesn’t want to miss it.
Al’s Secret
~
Al has a secret. It’s something he’s not shared with anyone, especially not his Housemates, who would tease the fuck out of him for it. Oh no, he’s careful to keep quiet about it. But there are times he can’t help himself, because Draco Malfoy is sex on legs.
He knows Scorpius would be a more appropriate choice, but there’s just something about the way his dad walks, holds himself, smirks…fuck, everything the man does is dead sexy. Even his bloody voice, which can take Al from half hard to fully erect in about a sentence.
And the first time he sees the man smoke, Al knows he’s doomed.
Mr Malfoy’s slow, deliberate movements as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with the glowing tip of his wand make something inside Al burn with lust, and despite the public setting, and the presence of his entire sodding family, Al trembles with the desire to walk over to the man and offer himself up.
The Ministry reception is in full swing by the time Al manages to extricate himself from his family and follow Mr Malfoy out onto one of the conjured balconies that ring the ballroom.
Whoever’s done the charms work is a bloody genius. There’s even a cool breeze when Al steps onto the balcony, and the roar of the gathered crowd dims.
Mr Malfoy is gazing out at the scene, a moonlit field. The smoke from his cigarette is curling into the air. He says nothing as Al hesitantly steps up beside him.
Al clears his throat and Mr Malfoy finally turns to face him, his expression polite. “Albus.”
“Hello, Mr Malfoy.”
Mr Malfoy takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into Al’s face. Unable to help himself, Al closes his eyes and inhales.
When he opens his eyes, Mr Malfoy is looking at him with amusement and…speculation? “Would you like a cigarette?” he murmurs.
Al, tempted, glances towards the ballroom, but no one is looking. “I don’t think—”
Mr Malfoy’s mouth curves upwards. “Ah. Of course. Your family wouldn’t approve.”
Al, sure they wouldn’t approve of what he really wants to do with Mr Malfoy, licks his lips and tries to seem sophisticated. “I’m not worried about them.”
“No?” Mr Malfoy hums, then pulls the cigarette from his mouth and offers it. “How about a trial…suck, then?”
Biting back a moan, Al accepts the cigarette, sliding it into his mouth. He takes a pull and immediately begins coughing. He coughs so hard the fag falls out of his mouth and onto the ground.
Humiliated, Al wipes tears from is eyes. “Sorry—” he gasps between coughs.
Mr Malfoy tuts. “No need to apologise. It takes some getting used to.” He offers Al a handkerchief, which Al gratefully accepts.
Once he’s collected himself, Al tried to hand him back his kerchief. Mr Malfoy eyes it, shaking his head. “Keep it. Consider it a gift.”
Al blinks. Of course the man wouldn’t take a filthy handkerchief. He clears is throat. “I’ll return it when it’s clean,” he promises, shoving it in his pocket.
Mr Malfoy’s smile is sharp. “As you wish. Although the thought of you having something of mine is…pleasing.” Pulling another cigarette from his pocket, he lights it, then begins to turn away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“I…can I try again?”
Mr Malfoy pauses. “Try…another cigarette, you mean?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Um…” Al swallows hard, but steps closer. “Maybe if I practise sucking something else first?” he whispers, dropping his eyes. He can feel his face burning, but if this is how only chance, he doesn’t want to miss it.