Malfoy smirked and raised an eyebrow and Ron knew he wasn’t imagining it, Draco really was fucking with him. He glared back, but he was incapable of doing anything about it. Still, he sighed when Draco scooped up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his lips. There was absolutely nothing erotic about porridge.

Or so Ron had supposed.

But watching as Draco licked the underside of the spoon, before taking it in his mouth and sucking the contents from it, with his eyes closed and looking blissed, Ron reconsidered and palmed his crotch again. The ache to touch himself was making him reckless and wild eyed.

It was a snowball. The more wild eyed and desperate he became, the more Draco fed on it and worked his mouth obscenely across the room, almost like an invitation, but to what, Ron didn’t want to contemplate. He just wanted to be able to get up from the table and turn off his mind. If he could just release this tension than he could stop thinking of what else that mouth could do.

Draco again brought his newly filled glass to his lips and drank. Ron used this moment where Draco’s eyes were closed to make his move. Scanning the room and seeing no one would be watching, he used his left hand to hold the cuff of his right sleeve and slid his hand out. He kept holding his sleeve so that it might possible look from across the room that his arm was still there and not sliding between his skin and pants, gently and slowly grasping his rigid cock.

He cried out and fought the overwhelming urge to continue his boisterous exaltation, keening and swearing, pounding his hand against the table with each exuberant thrust of his fist’s pumping up and down his cock in vigorous strokes. Instead, he bit his lip and forced his body to remain rigid, the only movement the imperceptible slide up, thumb over his tip and back down. He was also determined to not look away from Malfoy, not now. He’d already conceded his horrifying discovery that he was powerless against Draco’s oddly precise game of seduction, he was damned if he was going to let Draco see just how much he was getting under his skin.

Oh buggery, fuckitty fuck, Ron cursed, biting harder on his lower lip. Draco had another sausage, this time held delicately with his fingers. He wrapped his lips around the end of the sausage and sucked loud slurps before baring his teeth and piercing the flesh, juices running down his chin.

He slammed his eyes closed to escape the image, but it was worse in his head. In his head it wasn’t the sausage that Draco’s lips were devouring. It wasn’t grease running down his chin.

“Fuuuuuuuck!” he growled through his teeth, squeezing his cock painully hard and stroking in earnest. Fuck it, he thought. I’ll just Oblivate the entire room if I need to.

It didn’t take him long to come. It did take him a long time to stop gasping and dare to open his eyes again, and even longer than that to look up. He was terrified anyone would be looking at him, but horrified at the smirk bound to be on Draco’s lips now. Before he raised his head, he used his wand first to clean himself up and then he raised it, ready to Oblivate everyone in the room--just incase.

There was no one there.

No one.

A few House Elves popped in and out, but none of them seemed to even register that there was anyone still in the room. He sighed, but still felt anxious that Draco was out there somewhere with this knowledge of him and what would he do with this information? How would he torture him further?

He looked down at his plate. There was a half eaten sausage he hadn’t remembered eating and on each side of it, tangerines. He groaned.

Under the phallic food he found a folded note.

W--

Enjoyed sharing a meal with you.

M.