[FIC] A Simple Matter of Trust : Draco/Blaise :: gift for mr_mercutio Title: A Simple Matter of Trust Author: Recipient:mr_mercutio Pairing: Draco/Blaise Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 6,285 Warnings: (if Any) Rimming, atypical openness from Slytherins, semi-public sex. Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: Draco resorted to honesty when his relationship with Blaise hit rocky waters. Now neither knows if their romance will ever recover. Author's Notes: Many thanks to L and T for the beta and the encouragement.
“What did you just say?”
Frowning, Draco glanced at Blaise’s reflection in their bedroom mirror. Try as he might, Draco could not read his stiff-backed, blank-faced lover, but he could sense the sudden strain in the atmosphere. It worried him. The same awful tension had been rearing its unwelcome head ever since he moved in with Blaise and nothing Draco did seemed to prevent it from recurring. He wondered if they would fight tonight or if Blaise would leave without a word.
Tearing his gaze from Blaise’s, Draco turned his attention back to rubbing lotion into his hands. His parents had drilled the importance of a good skin care routine into him and he found his nightly routine relaxing. Turning his thoughts to the matter at hand, he tried to think of the best way to navigate the situation—complete honesty was the only approach he hadn’t tried yet. He could use it now—lay all his cards out on the table, as it were, and hope it didn’t backfire on him. “Harry joked that I should take him to bed.”
Silence followed his murmured statement. Draco chanced another peek at Blaise in the mirror and glimpsed the same impassive expression as before. Draco almost thought Blaise hadn’t heard him but then noticed the tick in his jaw.
“What did you tell him?” Blaise asked, his voice disturbingly quiet.
“What do you mean, what did I tell him?” Exasperated, Draco finally turned and faced his lover. “I told him that would only ever happen in his dreams and laughed it off. What else would I tell him? I have a boyfriend, remember?”
“Do you regret that?”
“What?” Shock and indignation coursed through Draco’s voice. He knew they’d been having problems lately but he couldn’t believe Blaise would ask him such a thing. “Of course not.”
“I see,” Blaise said.
“Surely you don’t believe I’m lusting after Harry.”
Blaise didn’t respond. Dark, fathomless eyes stared back at him, a surprising undercurrent of doubt swimming through them.
Draco gaped at Blaise. Though they’d been together for two years now, he was no closer to understanding the enigma that was Blaise Zabini. Usually he found that wonderful and exciting, an indication that Blaise would never bore him. At the moment, however, Draco couldn’t help wishing the man were a little less inscrutable. “Blaise.”
“What?”
“I’m not.”
“All right.”
“I swear it. I am not lusting after him.”
“Then why tell me about it?” Blaise countered.
“I was just making conversation. I didn’t expect you to take it so seriously.” Draco sighed as he crossed the room and sat beside his boyfriend on the bed. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’m not interested in Harry. I’m…in love with you, Blaise. You make me happy. As maddening as you are, my life is better with you in it. Merlin help me, I hate the thought of it being any other way and one day you’re going to believe that. You’re going to accept that. But you won’t if you believe I’m keeping things from you. So, I told you about a ridiculous conversation I had at work today. It was just a lark. It didn’t mean anything.”
Silence surrounded them for several long moments. Finally, Blaise cleared his throat. “Prove it.”
Draco blinked, a bit confused. He’d just delivered the most nauseatingly sincere spiel he’d ever uttered. How was that an appropriate response to his declaration of love? “Did you hear what I just s…”
“Yes, I did, but that can be dealt with later,” Blaise snapped brusquely.
“Excuse me?”
“You say you’re not lusting after Potter. Prove it.”
“What are you talking about? Why should I have to prove anything?” Draco asked, bewildered by the turn in the conversation. “I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me and you’re acting like I’m some sort of Potter-obsessed whore.”
Blaise shot off the bed and began to pace the length of the bedroom, hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, Draco allowed himself to be distracted by the taut pull of dark gold robes across broad shoulders and the long, swaggering stride that emphasized Blaise’s powerful legs. Even though he’d grown up with Blaise, had been exposed to that flawless skin and graceful stride and those glorious eyes for years, Draco often found himself caught off-guard by Blaise’s beauty. It was shallow, he knew, and not at all appropriate but Draco itched to touch him, wished this ludicrous row would end before one of them said something they’d both regret. He wished they could just forget the whole thing and shag like they used to before he’d moved in.
“I went to school with you,” Blaise said, his voice cutting through Draco’s reverie and drawing his attention back to the quarrel. “I remember your hysterical rants about him.”
“I loathed him in school,” Draco protested.
“The entire House was convinced you were in love with him, Draco!” Blaise bellowed.
They both paused, blinking into the ringing silence. Blaise was usually preternaturally calm. He never raised his voice. For him to shout about this immaterial thing with Potter meant it really bothered him.
“Do you know what it has been like watching you develop a relationship with him?” Blaise asked, his voice a raw whisper. “Watching a rapport grow? Listening as Potter’s romance with the Weasley girl imploded? Waiting to see if you’d seize your opportunity to have a go with him? Have you any idea how difficult, how utterly disheartening, it is to wonder if the man you’re involved with is merely biding his time until his true love is available?”
Yes, he did. He knew exactly what it was like to feel insecure about the depth of someone’s love for him. He knew how it felt to wonder if someone he loved and respected felt the same about him. He knew what it was to hope that one day he’d measure up to someone else’s expectations only to fail. The thought that he had done anything to make Blaise feel like that disturbed Draco. He rose from the bed and stood directly in front of his boyfriend. “You don’t have to doubt me,” Draco reassured, laying a hand on Blaise’s cheek. “I don’t want Harry.”
“But you felt you had to bring it up.”
“I told you—I was just making conversation, telling you about a stupid joke. It’s not serious.”
“It’s serious to me,” Blaise retorted. “If Potter’s trying to get in your pants, it’s serious to me.”
“Fair enough,” Draco conceded as he toyed with one of the clasps on Blaise’s robe. It slipped free. “But you need to start trusting me, love.”
“Draco…” Blaise began, his hands coming to a rest on Draco’s hips, seemingly of their own accord.
“You’re going to have to trust that my mad obsession with Harry in school was not, in fact, love,” Draco continued as he freed a few more clasps. “You need to believe that I’m happy with you.”
Just as Draco freed the last clasp on his robe, Blaise brushed his hands away and stepped back, chest heaving. His previous blankness had been replaced with haunted anguish. “No,” Blaise spat.
Draco stepped forward, his hand reaching out to him. Blaise shook his head and backed away, a fine tremor running through his body. “I know you, Draco. I know what you like, what you want: money, status, power. Potter can give you those things even better than I can. How much longer am I supposed to expect you to resist?”
Draco dropped his hand. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Is that what you think of me?” he murmured. “That I’m a social-climbing whore? You think that I’d like nothing better than for Harry to suddenly realize that I’m what he’s been missing all his life. Is that it? I’ve just been wasting my time with you for two bloody years all the while waiting for Harry to decide he’d like a piece of my arse. Is that it? Is that what you think of me?” Draco was shaking. Why hadn’t he realized this? How had he missed this? How could Blaise think this of him?
Blaise lifted his chin, suddenly defiant. “What am I supposed to think, Draco? You work all the time—with him. I barely see you anymore.”
“Don’t you dare,” Draco snapped. “You’re just as busy as I am, busier in fact, and unlike me, you don’t always make it home at night.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I make it a point to come home, to spend time with you, only you aren’t guaranteed to be here. If anyone is likely to have an affair in this relationship, it’s you!”
“I have never cheated on you, Draco, and I never will. Besides, I’m not the one who wants someone else!”
“Fuck you, Blaise. I’m the one who asked you out. I’m the one who made the first move. I’m the one who suggested we move in together. I’m the one who disappointed his family to be with you. I’m the one who, for the sake of keeping the peace, hasn’t made a fuss while you spend all of your free time with Theodore instead me. I am not the one spending all of my time with someone else.”
“Not yet, perhaps,” Blaise shot back. He didn’t resemble the Blaise Draco had always known—the rational, quiet-spoken man with the dry sense of humor. This Blaise was feral and loud, radiating confused emotions faster than Draco could decipher them. “Don’t forget I know all about your relationship with Pansy. You led her on for years because she was your willing slave before you broke her heart. Well, I’m nobody’s slave and I’ll be damned before I let you do to me what you did to her.”
“I never asked you be my slave!” Draco cried. “I’ve never asked you to serve me. In fact, I’ve only ever asked you to trust me. I didn’t think I had to ask you to love me, too.”
“Love you?” Blaise exclaimed incredulously.
Draco hadn’t thought it possible, but he could swear his heart stopped at Blaise’s words. Loss, deep and aching, reverberated through him. “Obviously, I asked too much of you. How foolish of me to think that the respectable Blaise Zabini could possibly love a manipulative slut like me.” He shoved his feet into his shoes and snatched a cloak from the closet.
“We are not done.”
“Oh, I think we are,” Draco snarled as he stalked out of their bedroom.
He hadn’t even made it down the hall before Blaise shoved him against the wall and glared down at him. “Are you going to him?”
“Why do you care?” Draco demanded, pushing Blaise away from him. “I’ll have proven you right. After all, I’m nothing but a shallow, self-centered bastard who’ll spread his legs for anyone with a flush bank account and the right social credentials. I should go fuck Harry and the entire Weasley clan with a side of the Minister, right? Isn’t that what you expect of me? Isn’t that who you think I am?”
Blaise stepped into Draco again. “You aren’t fucking anyone else,” he growled harshly. “Don’t you get it? You are mine. Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine!”
“Don’t you get it?” Draco snapped back. “I know that already. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You just refuse to listen.”
“I’m not the one who wants someone else!”
Draco just stared at Blaise, his entire relationship crumbling before his eyes. How had he been so blind? How had he not realized that his big romance didn’t really exist? “After all this time, it should be so easy for you to believe me,” Draco said sadly, “but apparently you’re incapable of that. I can’t be with someone who won’t trust me, Blaise. Goodbye.”
He Apparated before Blaise could try to stop him.
~*~
“And then he was gone and I don’t know where he is or if he’s all right or how he’s getting on or…if he’s with him. I don’t know if he’s coming back. What if he never comes back?”
Blaise knocked back the last of his scotch and gazed, forlorn, at the bottom of the glass. Six days had passed since the Fight. He hadn’t seen or heard from Draco and neither had anyone he’d asked. Or so they said. Blaise suspected that Draco’s colleagues knew where he was but they weren’t telling him. Pansy probably knew, too, if the evil glare she’d given him when he asked was any indication. Draco would never go to Theo. Aside from the fact that Theo had just got back from a business trip to Germany, Draco had always been openly jealous of Blaise and Theo’s friendship though there was absolutely no reason for him to be. The only person he hadn’t asked was Potter. He didn’t think he could stomach asking that smug bastard anything.
The Fight, the fruitless search, and the constant agony of not knowing—anything, really—had led Blaise to seek solace in his wildest night club, heartsick and miserable, with only Theo and a bottle of the club’s finest scotch to keep him company. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this—immersed himself in anonymous chaos and brooded about the state of his relationship. It was easier than going home and figuring out just what he was supposed to do with Draco.
For a normal person, this wouldn’t have even been a question. You spent time with your significant other—talked and laughed and made love—you built a life. Draco had been right to accuse Blaise of not coming home and being with him. Unfortunately for Draco, he’d chosen a man who didn’t have the slightest idea how one went about creating a life with someone else. For years, Blaise’s world had consisted of temporary attachments—first, the ever-revolving merry-go-round of stepfathers, which was followed by a never-ending slew of paramours and one-offs. The only true constants in his life had been his mother, Theo, and his work and Blaise trusted wholly in his three sacred institutions. Then Draco had come along, all grown up and mature, and they’d clicked. Before he knew it, he and Draco were an item and he was happy and falling much harder than he ever had and, after they’d moved in together a year and a half into the relationship, paranoia had set in. He would lose Draco just like he’d lost everyone else; Blaise did not doubt that. Blaise hadn’t known how he would survive this particular heartbreak and, if his current drunken and desolate state was any indication, he wouldn’t.
“Oh, God, Theo,” Blaise moaned as he signaled the bartender to refill his glass. “I fucked up. I’ve fucked up and I think I’ve lost him forever.”
Theo laid his hand over the top of Blaise’s glass and shook his head at the bartender. “Coffee, Byron, strong, black, and enhanced, if you please.”
“Scotch,” Blaise insisted with a glare, “or you’ll be looking for another job tomorrow.”
“Coffee,” Theo repeated before turning to Blaise with a much more fearsome glare, “and don’t you dare contradict me. You are well and truly pissed if you’re threatening to dismiss a brilliant bartender like Byron.”
“Has it occurred to you that, perhaps, I prefer my state of deep inebriation?” Blaise slurred, anger and gratitude coloring his tone. “After all, I fucked up. You can’t expect me to handle that sober.”
“Well, you’re right. You fucked up. Royally.”
Blaise took the coffee cup Byron handed him and toasted Theo. “Thank you for your recognition of my stunning achievement.”
“It wasn’t a solitary effort, my friend,” Theo said, amusement teasing the corners of his mouth. “I told Malfoy you were an emotional wreck better left alone…”
“You what?!” Blaise spluttered into his cup, just barely managing not to choke himself.
Theo shrugged. “I love you like a brother. You know that. But you are.”
“Some help you are.”
“Indeed, I am,” Theo replied. “Malfoy completely disregarded my warning. Of course, he thinks I’m masochistic enough to want you for myself, which, I must say, is beyond laughable. But it does prove he cared enough about you to brave your murky, issue-laden depths. If nothing else, Malfoy is persistent. He’ll come back.”
“Do you really think so?” Blaise asked before taking another sip.
“I do. He’ll punish you first, but he will come back.” Theo smiled. “Then there’s the fact that I’m helping you get sober.”
“With coffee?”
“When have you ever been able to take Sobering Potion straight without sicking up on everything in sight?”
Blaise groaned as he realized what “enhanced” meant. He’d have picked up on that earlier if he’d been sober. At least that explained why everything was so much clearer and the music so much louder. “I’d so much rather be pissed,” he groaned, resting his forehead on the sticky bar.
“Unfortunately, that’s not in your current best interest,” Theo said, gently for once.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s time for your punishment.”
“What?” Blaise shot upright, cursing as his head took a few moments to stop spinning. “Draco’s here?”
Theo tipped his head toward the dance floor.
Blaise looked at the dance floor. He only saw a writhing swarm of dancers. Frowning, he unsteadily gained his feet and peered over the dancers’ heads. There, in the center of the crowd, was Draco. He looked fine, good even. Wherever he’d been, he’d been well taken care of. A seductive smirk pulled at Draco’s lips and he leaned into…
In the instant before Draco’s date’s identity registered, Blaise’s stomach dropped. Draco had found someone else. But who…Potter! Fury unlike any Blaise had ever felt replaced the cold numbness of the past six days and, before he realized he was moving, Blaise plowed through the dancers toward his errant lover.
Draco snaked nimble fingers into the wild abyss of Potter’s hair. His lips, moist and inviting, were frighteningly close to Potter’s lips. His slim hips gyrated far too close to Potter’s for Blaise’s comfort. The awed, hooded look in Potter’s eyes infuriated Blaise even further. Draco was not his to enjoy.
Blaise’s hand shot out and curled around Draco’s bicep, jerking him away from the mop-haired usurper.
No one said anything as Draco gracelessly stumbled into Blaise’s arms. “Not for him,” Blaise growled as Draco turned sharp, grey eyes up to his face.
Regaining his balance, Draco shoved at Blaise’s chest. “Piss off, Blaise.”
“You will not leave me for him,” Blaise reiterated. “I won’t allow it.”
“He doesn’t want…” Potter began just to be shocked into silence as Blaise thrust his wand into his face.
“You can’t have him.” Pulling Draco into his arms, Blaise sent a final glare Potter’s way before Apparating off the dance floor.
~*~
Draco tore out of Blaise’s arms the moment they reappeared in Blaise’s office. He stalked over to the bank of slanted windows overlooking the club. Harry stood exactly where they’d left him, wide-eyed and gaping at the spot they’d just vacated, Theodore beside him. Draco whirled on Blaise with a disgusted scowl. “You are mad!”
Blaise didn’t respond. Gaze locked on Draco, he stalked towards him, the tightly gripped wand in his hand clearly forgotten.
“Are you even thinking?” Draco demanded, not the least bit intimidated. He folded his arms across his chest and fearlessly met Blaise’s burning gaze. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? Potter is an Auror! He’ll…”
“I don’t want to hear another word about Potter,” Blaise breathed, his voice surprisingly steady despite the fact that he was visibly shaking.
“I don’t care what you want,” Draco retorted. “You’re acting like an idiot. You pulled your wand on an Auror without provocation!”
Draco ignored his outburst. “You could be brought before the Wizengamot for the stunt you just pulled. You could be thrown into Azkaban.”
“It can’t be any worse than the past six days have been,” Blaise said. “What were you thinking? How could you just disappear like that?”
“Oh, were you worried?” Draco mocked.
“Of course, I was worried,” Blaise snapped.
“Why?” Draco asked, his voice hard and angry. “Because you were afraid I was shagging Potter?”
“No, you arse! Because I didn’t know where you were or if you were all right. Anything could have happened and I wouldn’t have been able to get to you if it had. I couldn’t find you and no one would tell me where you were. I…I was worried.”
“What a pretty speech,” Draco drawled, a dangerous edge to his voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am an adult, Blaise—an Auror. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know that,” Blaise said, coming close enough to touch. “I still worry—always have.”
“Hmm.” The heat of Blaise’s body enveloped Draco with heady familiarity. His traitorous body swayed toward Blaise before Draco remembered himself and stepped back toward the windows. “One would almost think you cared,” he croaked to cover his momentary lapse.
Blaise reared back as if Draco had struck him. “You think I don’t?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Draco admitted with a little toss of his hands. He began to pace. “I was certain of your feelings until a few months ago. Then you just abandoned me in favor of work and Theodore and I don’t know why. It’s got to the point where I only see you when you come home—late. Usually, you’re too tired to do anything but sleep. Sometimes, you’ve just enough energy for some emotionless sex after which you go directly to sleep. You don’t need to care about me to have that sort of relationship, Blaise. You don’t even have to know me.”
“Oh.” All of the bristling energy that had filled Blaise seconds before seemed to evaporate. Blaise hunched forward and slipped his wand into his pocket. He wouldn’t meet Draco’s eyes. “I didn’t realize,” he murmured, the newness of this revelation evident in his voice.
“I don’t know what happened,” Draco said, rather taken aback by the sudden change in Blaise’s demeanor. He wondered if he should be worried. “I…I thought we were happy.”
Blaise sighed and Draco steeled himself for whatever Blaise was about to throw at him. “We were happy.”
“Then what changed?” Draco asked cautiously.
A bitter laugh escaped Blaise, surprising and slightly terrifying Draco. “I realized how long we’d been happy. Once I realized a year and a half had past, I figured it was just a matter of time until it would be over. Somehow fate would take you away from me, just like everyone else. You’d either be killed on the job or…”
“I’d leave you for someone else.”
“For Potter,” Blaise corrected. “You’d leave me for Potter.”
“Obviously, you’re the one obsessed, not me,” Draco quipped softly. “Why are you so convinced I’ll leave you for him?”
Blaise shrugged. “You’ve always had such strong feelings where he was concerned. With the two of you working together and the theory in school that you loved him, well, if you left me for anyone, I thought it would be for him.”
Draco was stunned, speechless. Blaise had been weaving horrible scenarios of their future and he’d had no idea. Finally, he said, “You’ve been hiding from me.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been saying good-bye to me.”
Blaise met Draco’s gaze, a heart-breaking look of regret and vulnerability in his eyes. “Yes.”
It took Draco a long moment before he could compose himself enough to speak. “Do you even want me, Blaise?”
“Obviously.”
“Is it? You didn’t fight for me.”
“How does one fight fate, Draco?” Blaise asked, the appalling cast of defeat still surrounding him. “I’ve tried. The outcome is always the same: I lose.”
“Do you love me?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Actually, no, I don’t. You see, you’ve never said. For months now, I’ve been choosing to believe you do but I don’t know for certain. After everything that’s happened, I’m even more confused now. What do you really think of me? How do you truly feel about me? What do want from me?” Draco took a breath and willed himself to stop babbling and get to his point. “I need to know. I need to hear you say it.”
Nodding, Blaise took a deep breath and gradually closed the distance between them. “I think that you have defied all of my expectations,” he confessed softly. “I never thought that the whiny, self-important Brat Prince of Slytherin would become…you. It never occurred to me that the boy you were would be able to do what you’ve done.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve reinvented yourself,” Blaise said with a proud smile. “The last two years of school took everything from you: your pride, your self-esteem, your status. The Draco Malfoy who left Hogwarts was not the same one who entered it. You had to start over; you could have just given up. It’s not like you had an easy time of it after the war. So few people treated you well. But you didn’t. You showed everyone that you’re smart and determined and…someone to be reckoned with. The scared, desperate boy who was clearly in over his head has evolved into a self-possessed man who chooses his own path.
“Draco,” Blaise sighed, “I am so proud of you. I don’t think you’re a whore; I respect you too much to think that.”
“You do?”
“I do. It gets worse. I’m in love with you. I’m terrified of losing you because I’ve never felt so much for someone else and I…it’s unsettling sometimes. I’ve never had a relationship this long before and I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to love you and trust that you love me enough to stay. Why do think I’ve been so moody lately?”
Had he been a Hufflepuff, Draco would have bawled, overcome by the wondrous romance of it all. As it was, he was a proud Slytherin and not only would he not cry but he’d only just barely show how very much Blaise’s declaration meant to him. He shrugged. “I don’t pretend to understand you, Blaise,” he said softly.
“I can say the same about you,” he murmured.
“I don’t see how,” Draco protested, giving Blaise an innocent look. “Compared to you, I am an open book.”
“Right.”
“I am,” Draco insisted. “I am lovely, even-tempered, and easy to live with. It is not my fault you’re too neurotic to recognize that.”
“Is that so?” Blaise asked.
“It is.”
“Then I beg your pardon. I must make amends for failing to recognize such admirable qualities.” Blaise cupped Draco’s cheek in his hand and claimed his mouth in a slow, searching kiss.
“Mmm,” Draco moaned as he melted into the kiss. It had been far too long since Blaise had held him like this, like he was the single most precious part of Blaise’s life. He smiled as Blaise’s tongue carefully teased the seam of his lips as if asking Draco’s permission. Shivering in anticipation, Draco slipped his arms around Blaise’s neck as he eagerly parted his lips and let Blaise in. Draco groaned as Blaise sucked and stroked his tongue, the feel of Blaise’s smirk against his lips making his toes curl. Content to take his time, Draco reacquainted himself with the contours of Blaise’s mouth as he shifted to fit into the familiar lines of Blaise’s body.
The world faded away as they devoured each other—hands roaming over each other’s bodies, tugging clothes open and off. They reveled in the exquisite pleasure of skin meeting skin. Blaise’s lips had drifted down to the sweet spot at the base of his neck when Draco stumbled in the process of toeing off his shoes. He fell backward, landing with an alarmed “oof” on the surprisingly sturdy window, his open robe spreading out around him.
Draco gaped at Blaise as he regained his breath. He’d completely forgotten that they were in Blaise’s office, directly in front of a bank of windows. They were visible to the entire club who, even now, could be watching every move they made. “We should take this back to the flat,” Draco said, his voice shaky with need and the relief of not falling through the glass to embarrassment and injury.
“Why?”
“I’m sorry?”
Blaise leaned over Draco and kissed his shoulder. “You’re already naked and reclining and beautiful. So beautiful.” He kissed the other shoulder. “Perfect. Why leave?”
“You want to do this here?” Draco gasped. “Where everyone can see?”
“Do you care?”
Draco stared up into Blaise’s eyes, aroused by the intense heat of desire and need he saw in them. Could he really shag Blaise in front of an entire club full of strangers? Did he really want Blaise that much?
“Well?” Blaise prompted, his face mere inches away from his. “Do you?”
“No.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that.”
Blaise stretched out over Draco, pressing their bodies together, and they both moaned. Draco wrapped his legs around Blaise’s waist, their erections sliding against each other as they resumed their kissing. It felt so good, so right to hold Blaise like this, their bodies straining towards each other, their tongues engaging in the delirious, almost forgotten dance of push and pull.
Still, Draco couldn’t get close enough—couldn’t touch, taste, feel enough fast enough and it was making him crazy. He mouthed a trail of biting kisses down Blaise’s neck, hands gliding hungrily over Blaise’s chest. He’d just leaned forward to suck a taut, dusky nipple into his mouth when Blaise grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the glass over his head. “What are you doing?” Draco protested, struggling to free his hands. “Need to touch you.”
Blaise held Draco’s wrists with one hand while he skimmed the other along Draco’s arm. Draco shuddered when the delicate touch passed over his armpit. “I want to show you how much I want you.”
“But…”
Blaise kissed Draco hard and demanding enough to drive all thoughts of dissent out of Draco’s mind. “Just close your eyes and hold still.”
Though every fiber of his being demanded he attempt to make contact with every inch of Blaise’s, Draco did as requested and forced himself to relax against the glass.
Soft, full lips fluttered over the pulse pounding at the base of his throat. Head tipped back, Draco stretched to present Blaise greater access even as the pressure became firmer. The sharp, subtle edge of teeth seizing the flesh above his pulse startled Draco and he couldn’t stifle his half-pant, half-moan. Blaise suckled hard enough to leave a bruise before trailing a moist, pointed tongue along his collarbone. A series of nips and kisses led to Draco’s hard, aching nipples, which were bypassed as the kisses continued over his ribs. Draco couldn’t quite restrain him, bucking beneath Blaise’s leisurely thrusting hips. The slide of hard, slick flesh against flesh drew a needy whimper from Draco and, with a decidedly smug chuckle, Blaise drew his neat nails over Draco’s quivering stomach and cupped his bollocks in his palm.
The onslaught persisted—each nipple found itself rolled and nipped between Blaise’s teeth. His tongue skimmed over Draco’s hot, silken skin. Blaise’s hands never stayed anywhere for long—they teased and toyed with Draco, dancing over each of his sensitive spots and reducing him to a mindless, sweating jumble of need. He trembled as Blaise suckled the flesh where his inner thigh began, his nose brushing enticingly against his bollocks. Blaise’s fingers traced the juncture of hip and groin, flirting with but never quite touching Draco’s throbbing erection. “Please,” Draco whispered, unable to keep silent. “Please.”
Blaise pushed Draco’s legs toward his chest. “All in good time,” Blaise murmured before sucking the stretch of skin between Draco’s thighs. He eased his way downward—little, light kisses in quick succession as his fingers slithered down the backs of Draco’s thighs. He was completely exposed to Blaise and waited with baited breath to see what Blaise would do next.
“Hold your legs,” Blaise commanded as he nibbled the curve of Draco’s arse.
Draco did as he was told. He bit back a shout of pleasure as Blaise slid his thumbs between the cheeks of his arse and separated them. The tip of his tongue swirled lovingly over the tight, pink hole before easing in. Unable to hold back any longer, Draco released his legs and writhed beneath Blaise’s tender exploration. He scrabbled at the glass, hips twisting and thrusting as he tried to take Blaise’s tongue deeper. Rarely one to rush, Blaise captured Draco’s restless legs and caressed the backs of his knees with his thumbs. Draco tensed—the backs of his knees were so sensitive—and pushed determinedly against Blaise’s mouth, silently demanding more. Blaise obliged, pressing one finger, then a second into Draco.
It was too much, too good, and he would not last long. Draco wanted Blaise inside of him when he came. He wanted him now. “Stop teasing and fuck me,” he exclaimed, his voice reedy with impatience and arousal. “Please. I need you inside me.”
Without a word, Blaise dug his wand out of the pile of clothes at his feet and inched up Draco’s body. Not wanting to waste any more time, Draco pulled Blaise to him and wrapped his long legs around his lover’s body. “Say the bloody spell.”
Smirking, Blaise whispered the spell and Draco felt the lube fill him. Blaise followed, sinking in inch by inch. “Blaise,” Draco whispered.
“Yes.” Blaise slid his hands along Draco’s arms and twined their fingers together. Then he began to move, long, leisurely thrusts as if the mere feel of Draco surrounding his cock were pure bliss. It was for Draco. He arched beneath Blaise, panting wantonly as Blaise found the perfect angle. Draco was intensely aware of Blaise, of the way their bodies seemed to twist and glide in perfect unison. It had never been quite like this before.
It wasn’t long before slow thrusts gave way to frantic pounding. The squeak of Draco’s robe against the glass joined the symphony of gasping cries and the sweet slap of skin against skin. Pleasure swelled inside him—rising, twisting, pulsing through him and he writhed, screaming, with the force of his orgasm. One, two, three thrusts later and Blaise followed him, his roar of completion matching Draco’s astounding climax.
Resting his forehead against his lover’s, Blaise slumped against Draco and struggled to catch his breath. It tickled Draco’s skin and he wondered idly if his breath felt the same on Blaise.
Eventually, Draco frowned and said, “Your forehead’s sticky.”
Laughing, Blaise kissed him. “I know.”
“So...”
“So.” Blaise pulled back just enough to stare down into Draco’s eyes. “We’re lovers again. You’ve come back to me.”
“Answer one question first.”
“What?”
Draco narrowed his eyes and gave Blaise a serious look. “Do you think I slept with Harry?”
Blaise stared back, brushing the back of his fingers over Draco’s cheek. Finally, he said, “No. No, you love me. You...you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Blaise answered, nodding. “I have to trust you if we’re going to work. You didn’t sleep with Potter.”
A relieved smile tugged at a corner of Draco’s lips. “About bloody time.”
Blaise chuckled and gathered Draco in his arms, pulling him to his feet. “Shall we go home?”
“By all means.”
~*~
Harry sat at the bar nursing a butterbeer and fuming. “I cannot believe I allowed myself to get caught up in this stupid drama.”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” Theo said, sipping a lovely elf-made wine. “Blaise and Malfoy have always leaned towards the dramatic.”
“Come on to Draco, you said,” Harry continued, blatantly ignoring Theo and continuing his rant. “Let him stay with you, you said. Zabini’ll never look for him with you. Convince him to go out with you, you said.” Suddenly, Harry gulped the rest of his butterbeer and shot an enraged glare at Theodore. “What the bloody hell possessed me to listen to you?”
Theodore smirked and slid off his stool. He slipped his arm around Harry’s waist and nuzzled the side of neck, snickering when Harry tipped his head to the side with a groan. “I believe it was the prospect of finally having sex.”
“You would be best mates with a needy bloke like Zabini,” Harry groused even as he turned into Theo’s arms and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“Because you, Granger, and Weasley aren’t at all disturbingly codependent,” Theo returned. He stepped between Harry’s legs and gave him a very thorough, very satisfying kiss. “This whole charade was necessary. Blaise and Malfoy would never have gotten over their issues without a little push. And now you and I are free to indulge in some long-overdue alone time.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Harry tried to look annoyed and reluctant but he couldn’t help smiling at Theo’s self-satisfied expression.
“Of course, I am.”
“Could have done without the show, though.”
Theo inclined his head in agreement. “Why are we still here?”
“Very good question.”
Theo dropped some coins in Byron’s hands with an admonition not to tell Blaise about him and Harry.
Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Ashamed of me?”
“Hardly,” Theo said, taking Harry’s hand and tugging him to the door. “I just want the pleasure of telling him myself. Now, don’t we have better things to do?”