Log: none but ourselves Who: Theodore and Draco What: A weekend in Turkey When: Friday evening Where: Turkey Rating: NC-17 Status: Complete
"What do you think?" Theodore asked, glancing at Draco after they entered their hotel room. It had been an easy enough Confundus spell, and they'd gotten a full week to themselves as a result. Theodore had talked to the hotel ahead of time, picked out the room, prepared the champagne chilling in the corner. "You, me, and all of this for a week."
Draco gazed at the gilded mirrors, the high arched windows - the trappings of wealth that far surpassed the collective Galleons of the Malfoy and Nott empires before their respective collapses. He knew at once that Theodore wasn’t paying for this vacation, but he didn’t care one whit. They both deserved a rest. Rather than respond with words, Draco took Theodore’s hand and kissed his clothed shoulder, his cheek resting there for a long moment.
"You like it?" Theodore asked, wrapping his arm around Draco's waist and slipping his hand into Draco's.
Draco nodded. It was what he’d craved for months - a distant land, a moment of peace and respite. A facade of the opulence they’d both known intimately, once. Draco wanted to collapse on the chaise lounge and never leave. To live like he mattered again, for however brief a time they were permitted.
Theodore smiled. "I'm glad," he said, tugging him over toward the plush couch that bordered a corner of the room. "You wanna explore?"
"No," Draco replied. He sat on the sofa, its purple as rich as sweet, bursting grapes, the lifting breeze of an ocean slipping in through an open window. He just wanted to rest.
- - -
"More chocolate, please," Theodore requested, stretching his legs in front of him before he leaned towards Draco, lips parted expectantly. The sun was low on the horizon, casting all of Turkey in a warm purple-orange haze, the creeping summer heat slightly sticky on their skins.
“Isn’t this my birthday celebration?” Draco asked Theodore with an arched eyebrow. “You should be feeding me.” Still, he lifted a date and pistachio confection to Theodore’s full mouth.
"I could feed you," Theodore offered, taking the treat from Draco's fingers and kissing the tip of his fingers in thanks. "Caramel filling?"
Draco brushed the pad of his thumb over Theodore’s lower lip, then leaned in to kiss him, unhurriedly. The Turkish heat was heavy enough that Theodore’s throat was sheened with sweat, and Draco bent his head to drag his tongue over its hollow.
Theodore's eyes fluttered closed, a low moan from his lips. He leaned toward Draco, his fingers twisting in the fabric of Draco's clothes.
“You promised me a caramel,” Draco reminded Theodore, his voice low and rich.
"Right here," Theodore said, lifting the caramel to Draco's lips and following it with his own.
Draco twisted his fingers into Theodore’s hair, the heat of his palm against the nape of Theodore’s neck. There were few things in this life that surpassed caramel enrobed in chocolate, but Theodore’s mouth was one of them.
Theodore smiled against the kiss, moving so that he was straddling Draco's lap, the caramel sweet between their mouths.
Draco sighed in pleasure. He pulled at the drawstring on Theodore’s pajama pants, urging his husband to rid himself of the thin material.
"Mm, I know," Theodore murmured, standing up to undo his pants and shrugging them off haphazardly. "You're still wearing pants though."
“I know,” Draco echoed. He coaxed Theodore to his lap once more, his fingers strong and agile where they stroked the heft of Theodore’s cock to full hardness.
"Not fair," Theodore murmured, groaning as he thrust toward Draco's hand.
Draco kissed the back of Theodore’s neck. The very tips of his fingers skimmed Theodore’s testicles before he pressed one shallowly inside his husband, Draco’s other hand nudging Theodore’s thighs wider.
Theodore hummed, pressing toward Draco's finger. "More," he gasped. "Please."
Draco cast a lubrication charm before he stretched Theodore with two fingers, his mouth hot against Theodore’s shoulder. “Better?” he asked.
"More," Theodore pleaded, squirming against Draco. "Want your cock."
Theodore’s body offered no resistance as Draco pressed inside, and Draco groaned. “Gods,” he gasped, sheathed by heat and tight muscle.
"Fuck," Theodore groaned, gasping as he lifted his hips against Draco and pushing down on him again. "Draco--"
Draco took Theodore by the hips and drew him down as he thrust up, the better to seat Theodore on his cock.
Theodore gasped, his fingers digging against Draco's arms as he rode his husband, each thrust drawing a moan from his lips.
Draco pulled Theodore’s hair, hard, to expose his throat. As he pushed inside Theodore, he sucked a bruise into the fragile skin there.
"Gods, Draco, yes," Theodore groaned, his cock straining against his stomach, between the two of them. "Please--"
Draco wrapped sure fingers around Theodore's cock. He jerked him with a steady hand, carefully undoing Theodore with cock and hand and mouth. He'd always liked reducing his cool, sarcastic husband to breathless gasps, even if their tangles had been less regular lately than they should have been. Draco would fix that; he wouldn't dwell on Quidditch any longer.
Theodore let out a keening moan, coming in hot spurts against Draco's stomach, his husband's name on his lips. He clenched his muscles around Draco's cock once he came down from the high, stroking his cheeks and kissing him tenderly. "I love you," he murmured.
“I love you too,” Draco told Theodore. He licked his fingers clean, then slid his cupped palms to Theodore’s slender hips again. He was still hard, but he was in no rush to come or to slide from beneath Theodore’s body.
Theodore smiled, kissing him on the lips while he moved up and down Draco's shaft, the pace leisurely. They had time.
Draco moaned against Theodore’s mouth. With both hands, he squeezed Theodore’s arse with a gasped, “Gods, you’re tight.”
"All for you," Theodore whispered, worrying at his bottom lip and pushing back against Draco.
“Aren’t I lucky?” Draco said, his voice strained. He lifted Theodore off his hips, then allowed gravity to bring their bodies together again. “Ride me,” he commanded, reclining backward in his chair.
"With pleasure," Theodore said with a smirk, lifting himself off Draco before he sank back down with a gasp. "Gods--"
Draco came with a low moan, his hands tightening on Theodore’s wrists as he did.
- - -
"We should hit up the market tomorrow," Theodore said, the water warm and oiled and sweet smelling. He leaned back on the tub, Draco lying on his chest though not for lack of space. "I hear they've got plenty of interesting items for sale."
Draco absently slid slick fingers down Theodore’s leg, from knee to thigh. “Is it a wizarding market?” he asked, curious about the potions supplies that he might find. Or the chocolates.
"No, it's Muggle," he said. "They've got trinkets, food, things like that. Chocolates."
“And dates,” Draco surmised. He turned in Theodore’s arms to kiss his mouth. “You like dates.”
"And dates," Theodore agreed, smiling into the kiss. "They should have those too."
Draco kissed Theodore a second time, his hand cupping Theodore’s cheek. “The market, then. Let’s.”