He'd watched for far longer than was appropriate, watched until Draco finally gave in and wrapped a hand around his cock, barely lasting another minute before he'd shot all over his stomach and chest. The sight made Theo's own cock throb painfully, and when Draco started fumbling for his wand—no doubt to end the spell that still had the vibrator thrusting in and out of his slick arse—Theo finally came to his sensed and bolted. He didn't think Draco would be all that understanding if he realised just how much of him Theo had just seen.
That had been nearly a week ago now, and ever since, Draco was all Theo could think about. It was as if seeing Draco wanking had opened the floodgates, and now Theo was drowning in Draco, Draco, Draco. It was bloody infuriating and distracting, especially considering the fact that they lived together and there was no escaping him. How had Theo never realised how much his life revolved around Draco? Tea together in the morning and takeaway on the sofa at night and Draco's scent in his nose, surrounding him like the most delicious smelling blanket. God, Theo just wanted to bury his face in Draco's neck, wanted to press him against the wall of their flat and see if he could get him to make more of those lovely noises he'd heard on Friday.
Theo groaned, his fist flying over his prick as scalding water beat down upon him from above. Just the merest thought of Draco these days was enough to set him off like a rocket and this was no exception. He'd barely been thinking of him for a minute and already his orgasm was almost upon him. With a twist of his wrist and one final thought of Draco looking up at him with lust-blown eyes, Theo came, emptying himself against the shower wall. He rested his forehead against the cool tile, panting as he watched his release swirl down the shower drain. Contentment oozed through him, sticky and sweet, his muscles soft and languid in the aftermath of his truly spectacular wank. Fuck, he'd always looked forward to his evening wanks, but this was getting out of hand. He couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard, and this was just to the thought of Draco. Theo could only imagine how good it would be to have the real thing.
No, Theo thought. No more imagining. If the war had taught him anything, it was that life was too short to let other people dictate your life or to live in fear. Theo had always discounted Draco as a potential partner—ostensibly because he thought they might not be sexually compatible, but if he was really being honest with himself, mostly because he cared for Draco more than he wanted to admit, and he was terrified of fucking things up. But if Theo did let himself think about it, then he'd have to acknowledge that Draco had made it clear, in his own Slytherin way, that Theo's feelings weren't exactly one-sided. They'd both been pretending everything had always been strictly platonic between the two of them, but there had always been an undercurrent of something more, a kind of potential that they'd both been content to ignore.
Until now.
Theo stepped out of the shower and grabbed his wand, drying himself down with a quick spell before pulling on his pyjamas. He couldn't help but think of Draco, Draco, who was in his bedroom right now, probably reading up on the latest potion's journal. His brow would be pinched in concentration as he read, his nose wrinkling in distaste whenever one of the featured potioneers said something idiotic. Theo felt a sweet fondness bloom in his chest, and he rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror. Yes, it was definitely time to confront these feelings before the force of his pining turned him into some kind of simpering Hufflepuff.
He thought about charging into the room and boldly declaring his feelings, but quickly discounted the option. Theo was far from a reckless Gryffindor and he had a feeling Draco wouldn't appreciate something so...gauche. No, this was a problem that required a bit more subtlety and finesse. Lucking, as a Slytherin pure-blood, Theo had practically been raised on the finer arts of cunning stratagem.
Smiling, Theo went to his bedroom and began to plot.
That had been nearly a week ago now, and ever since, Draco was all Theo could think about. It was as if seeing Draco wanking had opened the floodgates, and now Theo was drowning in Draco, Draco, Draco. It was bloody infuriating and distracting, especially considering the fact that they lived together and there was no escaping him. How had Theo never realised how much his life revolved around Draco? Tea together in the morning and takeaway on the sofa at night and Draco's scent in his nose, surrounding him like the most delicious smelling blanket. God, Theo just wanted to bury his face in Draco's neck, wanted to press him against the wall of their flat and see if he could get him to make more of those lovely noises he'd heard on Friday.
Theo groaned, his fist flying over his prick as scalding water beat down upon him from above. Just the merest thought of Draco these days was enough to set him off like a rocket and this was no exception. He'd barely been thinking of him for a minute and already his orgasm was almost upon him. With a twist of his wrist and one final thought of Draco looking up at him with lust-blown eyes, Theo came, emptying himself against the shower wall. He rested his forehead against the cool tile, panting as he watched his release swirl down the shower drain. Contentment oozed through him, sticky and sweet, his muscles soft and languid in the aftermath of his truly spectacular wank. Fuck, he'd always looked forward to his evening wanks, but this was getting out of hand. He couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard, and this was just to the thought of Draco. Theo could only imagine how good it would be to have the real thing.
No, Theo thought. No more imagining. If the war had taught him anything, it was that life was too short to let other people dictate your life or to live in fear. Theo had always discounted Draco as a potential partner—ostensibly because he thought they might not be sexually compatible, but if he was really being honest with himself, mostly because he cared for Draco more than he wanted to admit, and he was terrified of fucking things up. But if Theo did let himself think about it, then he'd have to acknowledge that Draco had made it clear, in his own Slytherin way, that Theo's feelings weren't exactly one-sided. They'd both been pretending everything had always been strictly platonic between the two of them, but there had always been an undercurrent of something more, a kind of potential that they'd both been content to ignore.
Until now.
Theo stepped out of the shower and grabbed his wand, drying himself down with a quick spell before pulling on his pyjamas. He couldn't help but think of Draco, Draco, who was in his bedroom right now, probably reading up on the latest potion's journal. His brow would be pinched in concentration as he read, his nose wrinkling in distaste whenever one of the featured potioneers said something idiotic. Theo felt a sweet fondness bloom in his chest, and he rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror. Yes, it was definitely time to confront these feelings before the force of his pining turned him into some kind of simpering Hufflepuff.
He thought about charging into the room and boldly declaring his feelings, but quickly discounted the option. Theo was far from a reckless Gryffindor and he had a feeling Draco wouldn't appreciate something so...gauche. No, this was a problem that required a bit more subtlety and finesse. Lucking, as a Slytherin pure-blood, Theo had practically been raised on the finer arts of cunning stratagem.
Smiling, Theo went to his bedroom and began to plot.