The Blond Invasion
Aug. 24th, 2012 08:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokifanTitle: The Blond Invasion
Word count: ~3200
Characters/pairings: Sirius/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Post-HBP AU. If Draco’s going to invade Sirius Black’s home, Sirius will conquer him right back.
Warnings: Seventeen-year-old Draco doing naughty things with an older man.
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written fordeathlydragon’s birthday; she requested Sirius invading Draco's personal bubble of space.. Happy birthday! I’ve finally managed to write you this pairing, and I even got it porny :D
“I will not have him here!”
Draco stopped walking, and Shacklebolt glanced down at him. “That’s just Sirius’ way,” he said. “He’ll calm down soon enough. He’s got to realise it’s better for us to have you here where we can keep an eye on you.”
Draco nodded and gave a sickly smile. The house smelled musty, and there were Gryffindor scarves slung over the stairs. There was a portrait of a woman, comfortingly pale and hawk-nosed like Draco’s grandfather, but she seemed to have been frozen somehow: her eyes were open, but she wasn’t moving. And someone had attached a sparkly, purple cardboard moustache to her.
“I do not want to see him! Stop talking to me like I’m a child having a tantrum, Moony! You don’t have the faintest idea what my family’s capable of, not really. Cissy is more of a threat than Bellatrix could dream of being - well, Voldemort knew that, it’s why he got rid of her. And you should hear what Harry’s said about this kid.”
A murmur in response. Draco thought Sirius Black was upstairs, from the direction of his angry voice. He stood by the door and wished he could shrink until no one looked at him any more. All his years of doing impressions and dreaming of being someone important, someone people looked at -
“No, I will not. He’s not a victim, he’s not stupid - you knew him when he was thirteen and dressing up as a Dementor, he’s not like that any more! Draco Malfoy did something no one’s done in a thousand years - he brought invaders into Hogwarts. And now he’s invading my home. So much for an Englishman’s home being his bloody castle!”
Shacklebolt said, “stay here,” and vanished downstairs. Draco stood, his hand cramping around the little valise he’d managed to grab when he ran, and wondered if there was anyone else here. Would he have to talk to Weasleys?
Quick footsteps were coming along an upstairs corridor. Draco swallowed. He wished Shacklebolt hadn’t taken his wand.
“You want me to accept him here? I’m going to check him over myself. He could be a Trojan horse, just ready to bring in the hordes after him.”
More murmuring; the male voice was familiar.
“Taking his wand’s not enough, scanning him for black magic’s not enough. The Blacks have a line in Muggle poisons that would shame the Borgias, not to speak of knives. I’m searching him myself. I’ll go over every inch of his - ”
Sirius Black slammed to the top of the stairs and froze, his yells trailing off as he saw Draco. Draco flinched back against the front door as he met the narrowed grey eyes. Sirius Black didn’t look much like the Wanted posters Draco remembered, but the long black hair and the sense of power - it wasn’t unlike Aunt Bellatrix.
Sirius came clattering down the stairs. Draco went still, like a cornered animal, wishing for a way to fight back. This man was vital, energy sparking in every movement, and Draco didn’t know how to placate him. There was suspicion in his face, hostility, but something else, too. Sirius stopped in front of him, sweeping his black hair out of his eyes in order to see him more clearly. Sirius was taller than him; that had stopped happening to Draco much in the last year.
“Hmm,” Sirius said. “Well, you don’t look too dangerous. But Remus Lupin doesn’t look dangerous either, and he’s...” His face was expressive.
Draco had heard they were friends. He tried not to let his feelings about werewolves show in his face.
“All right.” Sirius pointed his wand at Draco, then stopped. “Hey, don’t look so frightened. I’m just gonna search you.”
“Shacklebolt already did that.”
“And I’m gonna do it again.”
Sirius did the spell. Draco cringed in anticipation, but it wasn’t too bad; Sirius’ magic prickled over him, but it didn’t scrape like Shacklebolt’s had. And he knew there was nothing for Sirius to find.
“Okay then. Lucky you, now we get to do it physically.”
“Do what?”
“Search you. I’m not having you bring any surprises in here, not even if you think you need it for protection. We won’t hurt you if you don’t hide anything.”
Draco swallowed. He might be sincere in his desire to join the Order, but he didn’t relish the idea of telling them all he’d done for the Dark Lord.
“Come on. Drop the luggage and stand face-first against the wall.”
Draco’s mouth twisted a little in his anxiety. Sirius stared at him implacably. Draco dropped his valise and put his nose against the wall. His shoulders tensed as he heard Sirius stand behind him.
Sirius started with his hair: large hands cupped his skull, fingertips massaging through his hair. Draco couldn’t imagine what he could be hiding in his hair, but Sirius was thorough, running fingertips along the shell of his ears and checking every inch of his scalp. It was slow, and felt sort of nice, really. Sirius moved to his neck, and Draco felt goosebumps prickle down his spine.
Sirius’ hands were at the back of his neck, and unease rose up again: Draco was so vulnerable at this angle.
The hands smoothed over his shoulders, and Draco gave a little sigh of relief. It was short-lived; as the large, warm hands ran over his back, mapping every inch of his skin, Draco’s sense of invasion grew. This stranger was touching him everywhere, not hesitating as he ran his hands up Draco’s sides. Draco gave a sharp intake of breath, lifting his arms out of the way automatically.
Sirius rubbed his way over the muscles of Draco’s arms. Draco’s muscles tensed under the touch; he felt invaded, but his skin was waking up with every touch from this man.
Now Sirius went over his ankles, fingers exploring every nub of bone, before they stroked up his calves. Draco flushed, embarrassed, as Sirius’ hands travelled further up. They nudged his thighs apart, explored his inner thighs. Then Sirius was checking his arse.
“W-what d’you think you’ll find there?” Draco said, his voice a humiliating mix of too sharp and breathy from surprise.
Sirius snorted softly, but moved on. “Arms up and spread.” Draco obeyed. Sirius came in close, his long lean body against Draco’s, and Draco felt an undeniable shock of attraction. Ridiculous and humiliating, undoubtedly a product of adrenaline and fear and hormones, but undeniable. Sirius rubbed over his chest, looking for weapons, and Draco couldn’t quite stop himself from arching into the touch like a cat.
He wasn’t so much invaded, as conquered.
Then Draco felt Sirius’ hands on him turn rough: Sirius spun him round and glared into his face. “What was that? What, your mum tell you to try sex appeal? Fucking cheap trick, but then I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. D’you think I’ll give you your wand back if you bat your eyelashes?”
Draco went hot and nauseous, mortified. He dropped his eyes - he couldn’t bear to keep looking at Sirius, not even if it made him look guilty. “I didn’t - I wasn’t - I didn’t mean - ” He choked on the words, going silent. Sirius’ breathing was slowing again. Draco wished Shacklebolt would come back; maybe then he’d get locked in some damp room and be alone for a while.
“Draco,” Sirius said finally. Draco glanced up at the sound of his name on Sirius’ lips. “All right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that - it’s not like you’re my usual type.”
Draco blinked at him, then hurriedly stopped - he didn’t want to flutter his eyelashes.
“Okay, we’re nearly finished with the search. Just got - ” Sirius gestured at Draco’s crotch.
Draco’s eyes widened. “But - no!”
“I’m not going to molest you, but I need to - ”
“Someone else,” Draco said desperately. “Please.”
Sirius’ eyebrows drew together. “Okay, but listen. I want you to trust me too, if you’re going to be staying here. If you don’t want me to finish the search because you think I’ll - ” Sirius paused, and his nose twitched. Suddenly he looked stunned. “You don’t - it’s because you - oh.”
Draco shut his eyes. Against all reason, his body was still humming from Sirius’ touch, even as his cheeks scorched from humiliation. He’d never felt chemistry like this, this instant want, but he couldn’t bear to see Sirius looking at him and knowing and -
Sirius kissed him. Warm and unambiguous and playful and take-no-prisoners, pushing his way into every space Draco left, a master of strategy. Draco crumbled before him.
His arms came up to pull Sirius to him, and he melted as he felt Sirius’ fingers in his hair. Sirius Black was kissing him against the wall in Grimmauld Place, they might get caught any second and then all hell would break loose, but that didn’t matter half as much as Sirius’ hot mouth on his.
Sirius drew back for a moment, and grinned at the sound of Draco’s small, bereft sound. His eyes were bright; he looked high on adrenaline. “Want to go upstairs and let me finish that search?”
Draco felt dizzy with amazement. But then, on a day when he’d managed to escape the Dark Lord and fly to London and be found by the Order and given safe haven, anything might happen. Anything was possible. He followed Sirius up the stairs and down a dim corridor into a bedroom.
“I warned Moony,” Sirius muttered, moving his mouth to Draco’s neck. Draco’s whole body arched against Sirius as lust thumped through him. Sirius chuckled against Draco’s sensitive skin. “I said it, I told him you were here to conquer me.”
He manoeuvred Draco to the bed. It was a Victorian metal frame, piled with blankets; Sirius sprawled down on it and drew Draco with him. Draco followed Sirius’ hands, straddling his lap. Draco’s ears felt hot; they were suddenly pressed very intimately against each other, and Sirius could definitely tell he was hard, and - oh - Sirius was too. Draco stared at the bulge and licked his lips instinctively.
“See? Minx,” said Sirius. He was teasing a little, Draco could tell. He had probably guessed that Draco was new to all this. His hands were rubbing over Draco’s back and neck, working him up even through his clothes.
Still, Draco shouldn’t let him have it all his own way. He smoothed a hand over Sirius’ wild hair, and said, “hmph. I think you want to conquer me back.”
His words cut off with a gasp as Sirius’ hands reached his arse and squeezed. Draco pushed back against them, embarrassingly breathless at Sirius’ groping.
Sirius laughed against Draco’s throat, then tipped him onto his back. Draco hit the mattress and stared up at Sirius’ grinning face, his black hair brushing over Draco’s chest. Sirius wriggled his way between Draco’s legs, pressing Draco against the mattress.
“Well then,” Sirius said, and started unbuttoning Draco’s robes. “I guess this is where you lie back and think of England.”
Draco laughed. “You know the Malfoys came over here with William the Conquerer?”
“I do, actually.” Sirius seemed pleased to open Draco’s robes and find his nipples peaked, his cock hard, his body already aching for Sirius’ touch.
“We tend to do well out of other people’s conquering.”
“Really?” Sirius grinned, eyes dark, and pressed his palms against Draco’s inner thighs. Draco moved easily, his mind full of Sirius’ hands on his soft skin, until his thighs ached from being spread so far apart. He caught Sirius’ lecherous grin and went hot with shame at being so exposed. Sirius wasn’t even undressed, his eyes travelling over Draco’s bare body, his tongue showing as he eyed Draco’s cock, the shadow between his cheeks. “I guess you’ll enjoy this, then.”
Sirius dove between his legs. Draco uttered a humiliating squeak as he felt Sirius’ tongue, long and hot and clever, against his cock. His thoughts melted, overwhelmed by teasing and licking and sucking. He bucked up against Sirius’ hands, but Sirius held him down. Draco made a protesting sound and half sat up. At the sight of Sirius smirking up at Draco through his black hair while he sucked Draco’s cock, Draco collapsed back down and shut his eyes, trembling and overwhelmed.
Sirius made noises all the time, he never shut up: enthusiastic moans as he sucked, little snorts and chuckles when he got Draco to twitch or cry out or spread his legs without thinking about it. Sirius kept changing what he was doing, mischievous, enjoying himself. He thrummed his fingertips gently over Draco’s balls and Draco gave a cry, then stopped, chastened. “People will hear.”
“Let ’em,” Sirius said, and reached for a little pot on the bedside table. “I haven’t had this much fun in weeks.”
“I’m not your toy,” Draco said, feeling he should.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, his smile turning wolfish. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”
Draco never had a chance. Sirius played with him, gentle fingers teasing over his hole, making their way in, shocking Draco with the intensity of the sensation. And all the time he was sucking Draco’s cock, blinding him with hot and wet, licking and teasing so that Draco couldn’t keep up with what was happening, what Sirius’ tongue and throat and fingers were doing to reduce him to this writhing pile of need. He could only hold on.
Or try to - he tried to hold on, to keep some control. But he was seventeen and he’d had a stressful sort of day and he’d never know sensation like this. Sirius was stretching him further and further, three fingers filling him up, and he had his tongue pressed against Draco’s slit and his mouth full of Draco’s cock. Sirius was moaning, appreciative, around Draco, and rubbing himself against the bed, and Draco couldn’t think any more, he couldn’t hold on any more -
His mind whited out, and Draco came in one long, helpless, blissful shudder, sucked and fingered and fucked into submission.
Draco began to come down, but he kept his eyes closed. He’d come before Sirius could even - “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing.
There was a silence. He peeked.
Sirius was staring at him, his thin, handsome face intent, his grey eyes dark. “Don’t be sorry. Believe me, I am going to make you do that again.”
“Oh.” Draco felt a glow in his chest, like his heart had become a small star.
“And again. Then again. I’ll need to see it from a lot of different angles...” Sirius withdrew his fingers, drawing a last shiver of sensation out of Draco.
“All right, kid,” Sirius said. “Indulge me. Hands and knees.”
“Marvellous,” Draco muttered. He felt like his body had liquified, but he turned over and levered himself onto hands and knees. He was sure Sirius was looking at his arse again. “Like dogs.”
Sirius snickered. “Does that make you the bitch?”
“Hey!” Draco straightened, still on his knees, glaring over his shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself. If you’re going to make the dog crack...” Sirius plastered himself against Draco’s body and Draco gasped a little at the shock of it: all that warm skin and muscle and bone pressed against him, and now a practiced, teasing hand cradling his cock. His head tipped back against Sirius’ shoulder, and Sirius took advantage. Draco moaned at Sirius’ mouth, sucking and lightly biting his neck, sending sensation prickling over his skin.
Sirius was rubbing his cock against Draco. It should have embarrassed Draco or brought his hackles up defensively; it was another shock of this experienced, shameless man and his sexuality all aimed at Draco. But it sent heat flushing through Draco.
He went back down on his knees. Sirius murmured, pleased. “Knees further apart for me, Draco.” Draco shifted obediently and felt Sirius move against him, felt Sirius’ large hands spreading his arsecheeks. Draco took a deep breath and then let it go, the air punched out of him, as Sirius pushed inside.
Sirius’ cock stretched him, slow and steady, rubbing over skin that felt new; he’d never known this feeling before. His body was yielding to Sirius’ demands, opening in a new way, nerves singing as they learnt this new language. Draco arched his back, seeking more, and Sirius made a stomach-punched sound of pleasure. Draco grinned wickedly at the Black family crest above the bed: he wasn’t the only one who could be helpless before this feeling.
Then Sirius found his prostate, and Draco abruptly stopped caring about one-up-manship.
He cried out, fully impaled on Sirius’ cock, and shifted, pushing his arse against Sirius’ hipbones, desperately looking for more of that feeling. “That’s it,” Sirius grunted against his ear. He licked Draco’s earlobe, a gentle gesture of victory, then went to town. His cock hit Draco’s prostate on every stroke, relentlessly battering at Draco’s self-control. He wasn’t even sure what sounds he was making any more. Sirius was groaning.
Draco reached for coherent thought, only to find his mind scattered by every thrust. Pleasure went in bolts up his spine and twisted in his stomach. Draco felt he might shake himself apart. Sirius panted like a bellows, his body slick with sweat against Draco’s, his nose buried in Draco’s neck. Sirius mouthed his neck and Draco moaned.
The intensity was overwhelming him, his every breath sounded like coming up for air. His orgasm would be harder this time, Draco could feel it. His arms trembled, barely able to keep him up. Sirius was going at him steady and ferocious. “Come on, Draco. Maybe I’m an old man but I can still make you scream - ”
His hand wrapped round Draco’s cock and Draco thought he screamed. He didn’t know any more, his whole mind and body taken up with the sensations of being fucked by Sirius Black. He couldn’t stop arching his back and hunching his hips, pushing forward and back, desperately following the rhythm Sirius set and yet seeking more sensation. Sirius was growling, his voice hoarser and deeper now, and he was losing his own rhythm. He was going to come for Draco, Draco was going to do that to him, and the thought wound Draco up further. He was gasping for breath, his ears full of their cries and the squeak of bedsprings, and surely he needed to keep control of himself, he couldn’t -
Then Sirius began to come, shaking against Draco, loud and unashamed.
Draco shut his eyes and surrendered.
Word count: ~3200
Characters/pairings: Sirius/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Post-HBP AU. If Draco’s going to invade Sirius Black’s home, Sirius will conquer him right back.
Warnings: Seventeen-year-old Draco doing naughty things with an older man.
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for
deathlydragon’s birthday; she requested Sirius invading Draco's personal bubble of space.. Happy birthday! I’ve finally managed to write you this pairing, and I even got it porny :D“I will not have him here!”
Draco stopped walking, and Shacklebolt glanced down at him. “That’s just Sirius’ way,” he said. “He’ll calm down soon enough. He’s got to realise it’s better for us to have you here where we can keep an eye on you.”
Draco nodded and gave a sickly smile. The house smelled musty, and there were Gryffindor scarves slung over the stairs. There was a portrait of a woman, comfortingly pale and hawk-nosed like Draco’s grandfather, but she seemed to have been frozen somehow: her eyes were open, but she wasn’t moving. And someone had attached a sparkly, purple cardboard moustache to her.
“I do not want to see him! Stop talking to me like I’m a child having a tantrum, Moony! You don’t have the faintest idea what my family’s capable of, not really. Cissy is more of a threat than Bellatrix could dream of being - well, Voldemort knew that, it’s why he got rid of her. And you should hear what Harry’s said about this kid.”
A murmur in response. Draco thought Sirius Black was upstairs, from the direction of his angry voice. He stood by the door and wished he could shrink until no one looked at him any more. All his years of doing impressions and dreaming of being someone important, someone people looked at -
“No, I will not. He’s not a victim, he’s not stupid - you knew him when he was thirteen and dressing up as a Dementor, he’s not like that any more! Draco Malfoy did something no one’s done in a thousand years - he brought invaders into Hogwarts. And now he’s invading my home. So much for an Englishman’s home being his bloody castle!”
Shacklebolt said, “stay here,” and vanished downstairs. Draco stood, his hand cramping around the little valise he’d managed to grab when he ran, and wondered if there was anyone else here. Would he have to talk to Weasleys?
Quick footsteps were coming along an upstairs corridor. Draco swallowed. He wished Shacklebolt hadn’t taken his wand.
“You want me to accept him here? I’m going to check him over myself. He could be a Trojan horse, just ready to bring in the hordes after him.”
More murmuring; the male voice was familiar.
“Taking his wand’s not enough, scanning him for black magic’s not enough. The Blacks have a line in Muggle poisons that would shame the Borgias, not to speak of knives. I’m searching him myself. I’ll go over every inch of his - ”
Sirius Black slammed to the top of the stairs and froze, his yells trailing off as he saw Draco. Draco flinched back against the front door as he met the narrowed grey eyes. Sirius Black didn’t look much like the Wanted posters Draco remembered, but the long black hair and the sense of power - it wasn’t unlike Aunt Bellatrix.
Sirius came clattering down the stairs. Draco went still, like a cornered animal, wishing for a way to fight back. This man was vital, energy sparking in every movement, and Draco didn’t know how to placate him. There was suspicion in his face, hostility, but something else, too. Sirius stopped in front of him, sweeping his black hair out of his eyes in order to see him more clearly. Sirius was taller than him; that had stopped happening to Draco much in the last year.
“Hmm,” Sirius said. “Well, you don’t look too dangerous. But Remus Lupin doesn’t look dangerous either, and he’s...” His face was expressive.
Draco had heard they were friends. He tried not to let his feelings about werewolves show in his face.
“All right.” Sirius pointed his wand at Draco, then stopped. “Hey, don’t look so frightened. I’m just gonna search you.”
“Shacklebolt already did that.”
“And I’m gonna do it again.”
Sirius did the spell. Draco cringed in anticipation, but it wasn’t too bad; Sirius’ magic prickled over him, but it didn’t scrape like Shacklebolt’s had. And he knew there was nothing for Sirius to find.
“Okay then. Lucky you, now we get to do it physically.”
“Do what?”
“Search you. I’m not having you bring any surprises in here, not even if you think you need it for protection. We won’t hurt you if you don’t hide anything.”
Draco swallowed. He might be sincere in his desire to join the Order, but he didn’t relish the idea of telling them all he’d done for the Dark Lord.
“Come on. Drop the luggage and stand face-first against the wall.”
Draco’s mouth twisted a little in his anxiety. Sirius stared at him implacably. Draco dropped his valise and put his nose against the wall. His shoulders tensed as he heard Sirius stand behind him.
Sirius started with his hair: large hands cupped his skull, fingertips massaging through his hair. Draco couldn’t imagine what he could be hiding in his hair, but Sirius was thorough, running fingertips along the shell of his ears and checking every inch of his scalp. It was slow, and felt sort of nice, really. Sirius moved to his neck, and Draco felt goosebumps prickle down his spine.
Sirius’ hands were at the back of his neck, and unease rose up again: Draco was so vulnerable at this angle.
The hands smoothed over his shoulders, and Draco gave a little sigh of relief. It was short-lived; as the large, warm hands ran over his back, mapping every inch of his skin, Draco’s sense of invasion grew. This stranger was touching him everywhere, not hesitating as he ran his hands up Draco’s sides. Draco gave a sharp intake of breath, lifting his arms out of the way automatically.
Sirius rubbed his way over the muscles of Draco’s arms. Draco’s muscles tensed under the touch; he felt invaded, but his skin was waking up with every touch from this man.
Now Sirius went over his ankles, fingers exploring every nub of bone, before they stroked up his calves. Draco flushed, embarrassed, as Sirius’ hands travelled further up. They nudged his thighs apart, explored his inner thighs. Then Sirius was checking his arse.
“W-what d’you think you’ll find there?” Draco said, his voice a humiliating mix of too sharp and breathy from surprise.
Sirius snorted softly, but moved on. “Arms up and spread.” Draco obeyed. Sirius came in close, his long lean body against Draco’s, and Draco felt an undeniable shock of attraction. Ridiculous and humiliating, undoubtedly a product of adrenaline and fear and hormones, but undeniable. Sirius rubbed over his chest, looking for weapons, and Draco couldn’t quite stop himself from arching into the touch like a cat.
He wasn’t so much invaded, as conquered.
Then Draco felt Sirius’ hands on him turn rough: Sirius spun him round and glared into his face. “What was that? What, your mum tell you to try sex appeal? Fucking cheap trick, but then I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. D’you think I’ll give you your wand back if you bat your eyelashes?”
Draco went hot and nauseous, mortified. He dropped his eyes - he couldn’t bear to keep looking at Sirius, not even if it made him look guilty. “I didn’t - I wasn’t - I didn’t mean - ” He choked on the words, going silent. Sirius’ breathing was slowing again. Draco wished Shacklebolt would come back; maybe then he’d get locked in some damp room and be alone for a while.
“Draco,” Sirius said finally. Draco glanced up at the sound of his name on Sirius’ lips. “All right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that - it’s not like you’re my usual type.”
Draco blinked at him, then hurriedly stopped - he didn’t want to flutter his eyelashes.
“Okay, we’re nearly finished with the search. Just got - ” Sirius gestured at Draco’s crotch.
Draco’s eyes widened. “But - no!”
“I’m not going to molest you, but I need to - ”
“Someone else,” Draco said desperately. “Please.”
Sirius’ eyebrows drew together. “Okay, but listen. I want you to trust me too, if you’re going to be staying here. If you don’t want me to finish the search because you think I’ll - ” Sirius paused, and his nose twitched. Suddenly he looked stunned. “You don’t - it’s because you - oh.”
Draco shut his eyes. Against all reason, his body was still humming from Sirius’ touch, even as his cheeks scorched from humiliation. He’d never felt chemistry like this, this instant want, but he couldn’t bear to see Sirius looking at him and knowing and -
Sirius kissed him. Warm and unambiguous and playful and take-no-prisoners, pushing his way into every space Draco left, a master of strategy. Draco crumbled before him.
His arms came up to pull Sirius to him, and he melted as he felt Sirius’ fingers in his hair. Sirius Black was kissing him against the wall in Grimmauld Place, they might get caught any second and then all hell would break loose, but that didn’t matter half as much as Sirius’ hot mouth on his.
Sirius drew back for a moment, and grinned at the sound of Draco’s small, bereft sound. His eyes were bright; he looked high on adrenaline. “Want to go upstairs and let me finish that search?”
Draco felt dizzy with amazement. But then, on a day when he’d managed to escape the Dark Lord and fly to London and be found by the Order and given safe haven, anything might happen. Anything was possible. He followed Sirius up the stairs and down a dim corridor into a bedroom.
“I warned Moony,” Sirius muttered, moving his mouth to Draco’s neck. Draco’s whole body arched against Sirius as lust thumped through him. Sirius chuckled against Draco’s sensitive skin. “I said it, I told him you were here to conquer me.”
He manoeuvred Draco to the bed. It was a Victorian metal frame, piled with blankets; Sirius sprawled down on it and drew Draco with him. Draco followed Sirius’ hands, straddling his lap. Draco’s ears felt hot; they were suddenly pressed very intimately against each other, and Sirius could definitely tell he was hard, and - oh - Sirius was too. Draco stared at the bulge and licked his lips instinctively.
“See? Minx,” said Sirius. He was teasing a little, Draco could tell. He had probably guessed that Draco was new to all this. His hands were rubbing over Draco’s back and neck, working him up even through his clothes.
Still, Draco shouldn’t let him have it all his own way. He smoothed a hand over Sirius’ wild hair, and said, “hmph. I think you want to conquer me back.”
His words cut off with a gasp as Sirius’ hands reached his arse and squeezed. Draco pushed back against them, embarrassingly breathless at Sirius’ groping.
Sirius laughed against Draco’s throat, then tipped him onto his back. Draco hit the mattress and stared up at Sirius’ grinning face, his black hair brushing over Draco’s chest. Sirius wriggled his way between Draco’s legs, pressing Draco against the mattress.
“Well then,” Sirius said, and started unbuttoning Draco’s robes. “I guess this is where you lie back and think of England.”
Draco laughed. “You know the Malfoys came over here with William the Conquerer?”
“I do, actually.” Sirius seemed pleased to open Draco’s robes and find his nipples peaked, his cock hard, his body already aching for Sirius’ touch.
“We tend to do well out of other people’s conquering.”
“Really?” Sirius grinned, eyes dark, and pressed his palms against Draco’s inner thighs. Draco moved easily, his mind full of Sirius’ hands on his soft skin, until his thighs ached from being spread so far apart. He caught Sirius’ lecherous grin and went hot with shame at being so exposed. Sirius wasn’t even undressed, his eyes travelling over Draco’s bare body, his tongue showing as he eyed Draco’s cock, the shadow between his cheeks. “I guess you’ll enjoy this, then.”
Sirius dove between his legs. Draco uttered a humiliating squeak as he felt Sirius’ tongue, long and hot and clever, against his cock. His thoughts melted, overwhelmed by teasing and licking and sucking. He bucked up against Sirius’ hands, but Sirius held him down. Draco made a protesting sound and half sat up. At the sight of Sirius smirking up at Draco through his black hair while he sucked Draco’s cock, Draco collapsed back down and shut his eyes, trembling and overwhelmed.
Sirius made noises all the time, he never shut up: enthusiastic moans as he sucked, little snorts and chuckles when he got Draco to twitch or cry out or spread his legs without thinking about it. Sirius kept changing what he was doing, mischievous, enjoying himself. He thrummed his fingertips gently over Draco’s balls and Draco gave a cry, then stopped, chastened. “People will hear.”
“Let ’em,” Sirius said, and reached for a little pot on the bedside table. “I haven’t had this much fun in weeks.”
“I’m not your toy,” Draco said, feeling he should.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, his smile turning wolfish. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”
Draco never had a chance. Sirius played with him, gentle fingers teasing over his hole, making their way in, shocking Draco with the intensity of the sensation. And all the time he was sucking Draco’s cock, blinding him with hot and wet, licking and teasing so that Draco couldn’t keep up with what was happening, what Sirius’ tongue and throat and fingers were doing to reduce him to this writhing pile of need. He could only hold on.
Or try to - he tried to hold on, to keep some control. But he was seventeen and he’d had a stressful sort of day and he’d never know sensation like this. Sirius was stretching him further and further, three fingers filling him up, and he had his tongue pressed against Draco’s slit and his mouth full of Draco’s cock. Sirius was moaning, appreciative, around Draco, and rubbing himself against the bed, and Draco couldn’t think any more, he couldn’t hold on any more -
His mind whited out, and Draco came in one long, helpless, blissful shudder, sucked and fingered and fucked into submission.
Draco began to come down, but he kept his eyes closed. He’d come before Sirius could even - “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing.
There was a silence. He peeked.
Sirius was staring at him, his thin, handsome face intent, his grey eyes dark. “Don’t be sorry. Believe me, I am going to make you do that again.”
“Oh.” Draco felt a glow in his chest, like his heart had become a small star.
“And again. Then again. I’ll need to see it from a lot of different angles...” Sirius withdrew his fingers, drawing a last shiver of sensation out of Draco.
“All right, kid,” Sirius said. “Indulge me. Hands and knees.”
“Marvellous,” Draco muttered. He felt like his body had liquified, but he turned over and levered himself onto hands and knees. He was sure Sirius was looking at his arse again. “Like dogs.”
Sirius snickered. “Does that make you the bitch?”
“Hey!” Draco straightened, still on his knees, glaring over his shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself. If you’re going to make the dog crack...” Sirius plastered himself against Draco’s body and Draco gasped a little at the shock of it: all that warm skin and muscle and bone pressed against him, and now a practiced, teasing hand cradling his cock. His head tipped back against Sirius’ shoulder, and Sirius took advantage. Draco moaned at Sirius’ mouth, sucking and lightly biting his neck, sending sensation prickling over his skin.
Sirius was rubbing his cock against Draco. It should have embarrassed Draco or brought his hackles up defensively; it was another shock of this experienced, shameless man and his sexuality all aimed at Draco. But it sent heat flushing through Draco.
He went back down on his knees. Sirius murmured, pleased. “Knees further apart for me, Draco.” Draco shifted obediently and felt Sirius move against him, felt Sirius’ large hands spreading his arsecheeks. Draco took a deep breath and then let it go, the air punched out of him, as Sirius pushed inside.
Sirius’ cock stretched him, slow and steady, rubbing over skin that felt new; he’d never known this feeling before. His body was yielding to Sirius’ demands, opening in a new way, nerves singing as they learnt this new language. Draco arched his back, seeking more, and Sirius made a stomach-punched sound of pleasure. Draco grinned wickedly at the Black family crest above the bed: he wasn’t the only one who could be helpless before this feeling.
Then Sirius found his prostate, and Draco abruptly stopped caring about one-up-manship.
He cried out, fully impaled on Sirius’ cock, and shifted, pushing his arse against Sirius’ hipbones, desperately looking for more of that feeling. “That’s it,” Sirius grunted against his ear. He licked Draco’s earlobe, a gentle gesture of victory, then went to town. His cock hit Draco’s prostate on every stroke, relentlessly battering at Draco’s self-control. He wasn’t even sure what sounds he was making any more. Sirius was groaning.
Draco reached for coherent thought, only to find his mind scattered by every thrust. Pleasure went in bolts up his spine and twisted in his stomach. Draco felt he might shake himself apart. Sirius panted like a bellows, his body slick with sweat against Draco’s, his nose buried in Draco’s neck. Sirius mouthed his neck and Draco moaned.
The intensity was overwhelming him, his every breath sounded like coming up for air. His orgasm would be harder this time, Draco could feel it. His arms trembled, barely able to keep him up. Sirius was going at him steady and ferocious. “Come on, Draco. Maybe I’m an old man but I can still make you scream - ”
His hand wrapped round Draco’s cock and Draco thought he screamed. He didn’t know any more, his whole mind and body taken up with the sensations of being fucked by Sirius Black. He couldn’t stop arching his back and hunching his hips, pushing forward and back, desperately following the rhythm Sirius set and yet seeking more sensation. Sirius was growling, his voice hoarser and deeper now, and he was losing his own rhythm. He was going to come for Draco, Draco was going to do that to him, and the thought wound Draco up further. He was gasping for breath, his ears full of their cries and the squeak of bedsprings, and surely he needed to keep control of himself, he couldn’t -
Then Sirius began to come, shaking against Draco, loud and unashamed.
Draco shut his eyes and surrendered.
