Draco Malfoy had entered the room to see exactly what he didn't want to see.
Ever since his father had come to spend Christmas at their manor, he had seen how the man watched Scorpius. His eyes were always searching the room for them, gleaming like those of a predator whenever the ten year old would enter a room, burning with a heightened desire whenever the child's arms would wrap around his neck. Yes, it was a look that Draco was all-too familiar with.
He remembered those eyes from when he was a child.
Draco knew precisely what Lucius' intentions were. He knew what these intentions were and he did not like or approve of them at all, by any means. So perhaps, as a teenager, he had been involved with… relations with his father. Perhaps he was by no means forced. He wasn't the initiator, but when he saw those lust-filled, stormy eyes of his father, his own mirrored the emotions.
Perhaps he had spent four of his years at Hogwarts in a relationship with his father. During breaks, the place to find him was his father's bed. And yes, there wasn't much more that Lucius loved than walking in his room at seeing Draco, thin and pale, a spitting image of himself, sprawled out naked upon the bed. Just that once glance would make his cock twitch. Draco would crack an eye open, smirk, and what would ensue next…
Well, lets just say that the House Elves got their fill of hearing Draco's screams for his father to go harder and deeper, of Lucius' groans and words that would make the Dark Lord himself blush.
Draco had decided, however, that when Scorpius was born, it wouldn't be the same. No, he wouldn't have that kind of relationship with his son. It just wasn't right, wasn't right at all, and it wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't touch him and he would be damned if his father was.
So as Draco walked into his father's room, seeing his son with a blindfold over his eyes and his father with one hand rubbing himself through his pants, perhaps he did fly into a rage.
Poor little Scorpius didn't know what to do as he took off his blindfold, peeking out to see his father throwing Grandpa Lucius to the floor, hissing something he couldn't quite make out.
"F-Father?"
"Go to your room, Scorpius."
"B-but, Grandpa Lucius and I were going to play-"
"I said go!"
Poor little Scorpius was shaking as he left the room, peeking in through the crack in the door. He watched as his father shoved his grandfather against the wall. Grandpa Lucius was grinning, grinning as if he knew some sort of secret. Draco looked the angriest Scorpius had ever seen him.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on my son."
"What, you mean you haven't already gotten to him?"
"He and I aren't the way you and I are, father." That last word was spit at Lucius as if it were a bitter poison.
"You say that now, but let me tell you something that my father taught me, son…"
Scorpius didn't hear what Grandpa Lucius told his father next, as he leaned forward and whispered it in his ear. He just knew that his daddy wasn't happy with it, shoving him aside and storming out of the room. He stayed in his office for almost the rest of the night after that.
"It's in the Malfoy way to fall in love with yourself."
Act II: Shiver
Draco Malfoy was a man that was losing his mind.
As much as he'd resisted his temptations throughout the years, it was becoming hard to resist these new urges that burned within him. As much as he hated to admit it, his father was right. As the years progressed, Draco did desire his son. He wanted to possess him in every way. He wanted to take him, press him against the bed, and make the boy scream and feel things that he would think unimaginable.
It was another beautiful Christmas. Snow covered the grounds of the Malfoy Manor, making it impossible to see the few albino peacocks he had. Yes, Draco kept peacocks. Just like his father did, just like his Grandfather Abraxas did, and he was sure that his son would as well. Merlin, that was the last thing he needed to think about. His thirteen year-old son, with that beautiful white blonde hair that matched his own, just slightly longer than his own at that age. Scorpius, with those same stormy gray as that were a trait of the Malfoy family. The boy was just like him. The boy did everything to please his father. Oh Gods, if he could just do those things to please his father…
Draco was bundled up in his dark clothing and robes as he trudged through the snow. The bitter snow had to relieve these thoughts that weighed heavy on his mind and heart. Seeing the remains of flowers that had been obliterated by the snow had to distract him from this. Even if he were to dwell on bad memories, this had to stop. He had to stop thinking about his son kneeled before him, sucking him desperately and swallowing every last drop. He had to stifle his craving to bend the boy across his desk and fuck him deep, agonizingly slow, making him scream and beg for more.
These thoughts had to pass. They needed to be saved for the bedroom, when he had to perform his 'nightly duty' with his dreadful wife.
He quickly shoved thoughts of Astoria away. He didn't even like being in the same room with her, much less wasting his precious thoughts on her. He was a Malfoy, after all. His time and effort was much more precious than the average man's.
And maybe it was fate that Draco just happened to look up to Scorpius' window, where he saw the boy with those alabaster-pale thighs of his bare, parted, and a hand slipped between them. His back was arched in ecstasy and the look upon his face was one that could even bring the most devout of men to his knees. Yes, as worthless as Astoria was, she had done precisely what she was supposed to do. She had given Draco the perfect heir, the perfect son. He had the beauty of a god and Draco longed to have him, have him in the snow, with only their body heat to keep them warm in the frigid cold. He wanted to have him in the springtime, amongst blue skies with the scent of blooming flowers in the air. In the summer, on a hot day, where the lazy heat forced them to be slow and tantric. In the autumn against a tree, the auburn sky fading into the background as the dead leaves fell around them. No, he didn't want him that way, he needed him that way.
Draco couldn't help the shiver that coursed its way down his spine at just the mere thought of these things.
He watched as pale cheeks flushed pink. He watched as those fingers worked themselves up and down. He could tell as Scorpius' breathing got heavy, his chest heaving. Why, the only think that Draco didn't notice was that his own had had slipped inside of his trousers, stroking himself slowly. This was too good of a show to pass up. This was an opportunity that he might never get again. He had to take advantage of it now.
It was over too soon. The boy was young, he hadn't yet built up his stamina through the years like Draco had, but seeing the other open his mouth in a moan, and it almost threw Draco the edge as well. He fell back against one of the huge, dying trees in the garden, eyes closing as the hand inside his trousers worked itself up and down quickly, ever so quickly, becoming desperate for release. He needed to finish, needed this now. It had been years since he had been this desperate to come (other than fucking Astoria) that he could barely remember the last time he had enjoyed himself, even if it was by his own hand. No, he needed release now, and moments later a groan spilled from the man's lips as his seed spilled into his hand. He panted softly to catch his breath, pulling his hand free and wiping it clean against the snow, scowling softly as his fantasies of making love to his son gave way to the bleak December skies.
What he had missed on Scorpius' end, however, was that right as he released, he gave one whisper as he slumped against the bed, just moments before his eyes fell shut and he drifted off to sleep.
"Father…"Act III: Moan
Draco Malfoy was a lost soul.
The man couldn't take it anymore. His Scorpius, his beautiful, fourteen year old son, was irresistible. The sexual tension between the two was undeniable. It may have gone unseen by Draco's stupid wife, but it was very apparent between the two.
Take the dinner table, for example.
The two sat across from other at opposite ends.
"How was your day, Scorpius?"
"Just wonderful, mother. And your own?"
Neither men were listening as Astoria began to ramble on about what the had done with her day. Draco's piercing gray eyes met those of Scorpius'. They burned with that untold desire, the same one that his father had for him. Matching stormy eyes mirrored exactly what Draco's did, just as Draco's did for his father. Draco lifted his goblet to his lips to sip his wine. Scorpius lifted his fork to his lips, a chocolate dipped strawberry on the end, lapping the chocolate off of the tip of the strawberry before slowly, seductively, sucking it clean. Draco tightened his grip on the stem of this goblet, downing the entire glass in one gulp. Scorpius smirked. Draco didn't smirk, but his eyes said it all. His eyes told the story of a man that would have no mercy.
Scorpius was getting his laughs in now, but he would be the one who would be screaming tonight.
The wait for dinner to be over was unbearable, even if they were having dessert. A dessert that Scorpius made agonizing for Draco. Tonight would be the night, however. The night that Draco had dreamed about for years. Tonight their breathing would match and become a harmony. Draco would make him beg to be touched, beg for more, have him coming back for more. Draco would make him scream in a pleasure that Scorpius would never find, or never be allowed to find, anywhere else.
The two went their separate ways as dinner ended. Scorpius said he would be getting a bath and going to bed, Draco merely retired to his study without a word. The two didn't see each other until late that night, when Draco heard a faint tapping on his bedroom door. He and Astoria shared separate rooms, on Draco's request, and a night like tonight was the reason why. Draco glanced over as he heard the door creak open and saw his son's face peeking in at him.
"Why are you still awake, Scorpius?"
"I'm sorry, father," he whispered, slipping in and closing the door behind him, "But I had a bad dream. May I sleep with you tonight, daddy?"
Draco couldn't say no. Not with that tone, not with that childish name. He knew exactly where this was leading.
"You shouldn't have to ask. If you're ever afraid, you know I'm hear to take care of you."
Both Malfoys were smirking. Scorpius slipped underneath the sheets with his father, pressing close against his chest. The younger boy buried his face in his father's chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne and the natural smell that was Draco, purring softly as strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight.
"You know I'll always protect you, don't you, Scorpius?"
"Of course I do, daddy."
Draco stifled a shudder as he heard this, eyes falling close. He slid his fingers into the boy's hair, running it through the damp locks with a gentleness that one would think Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly possess. Words didn't have to be said as they leaned in and locked lips, gently at first, though it quickly became passionate, a battle for dominance that Scorpius gave up without a fight. He didn't complain in the slightest as his father pinned him to the bed beneath him. Draco made quick work of the boy's clothing, tearing it off with a desperation that had come from pining after something for too long, lips moving down his neck, teeth marring the pale flesh with vicious caresses, tongue swiping over the marks to gently tease. Soft moans filled the room, causing Draco to jerk away, followed by a whimper from his son. He whipped out his wand quickly, holding it out and mumbling a quick, "Muffleato." They now had nothing to worry about. Draco would deny himself the screams of his son no longer.
Just from these trivial touches, Scorpius was already hard and desperate for more. Draco didn't hesitate for even a moment before crashing his lips onto those of his son once more, dragging his nails across the boy's thigh. Scorpius parted his thighs, just as Draco had intended, giving the boy a few quick strokes. No, Draco had become much too needy to tease him for long. Maybe another day, when this was about want, not need, could they go slow. Then they could tease, make each other beg. They could taste and touch, and…
This would not just be a one-time thing.
Draco flicked his wand once more, muttering another spell to coat his fingers, giving his son no warning before pushing one in. Scorpius cried out in surprise, Draco groaned at how tight the boy beneath him was. God, if he had to fuck Astoria every day for the rest of his life, just to have this, he would do it. As much as the thought sickened him, aroused him, anything and everything in between, there was nothing he wouldn't do to have Scorpius.
One finger quickly became two, became three. He stretched his son without hesitation, barely giving the boy enough time to adjust to the feeling. It reminded him too much of his first time with his father, but he would apologize for that later. He now knew why his father was so quick, so rough with him. There was desperation beyond need, something he had never felt before. This was what his father mean when he said that he would fall in love with himself. Perhaps later he would contemplate these words and try and understand their deeper meaning, but right now, he was preoccupied.
Scorpius gave a scream, a mix of pain and surprise, as his father suddenly thrust into him. A low, drawn-out groan left his lips, giving Scorpius and himself a moment to adjust before setting a slow, steady pace. He had to force himself to stay slow, giving himself enough pleasure to somewhat tide him over and let his son relax, adapt to the feeling of being stretched. Before too long, Scorpius' whimpers of pain had replaced with soft moans of pleasure, eager moans that grew louder, to screams and cries of ecstasy. This was an act of sheer desperation, of need. Draco's movements were quick and rough, quickly sending Scorpius over the edge. Neither of them lasted very long, but that was alright. Now that this longing had been satiated, this would become an act not of need, but on want. Now things between them would be slow and lusty, full of deep desires and hunger.
"Father…" Scorpius was whispering up to his father above him, reaching up to cup his cheek. Draco was panting to catch his breath, staring down at the beautiful boy beneath him, dripping with sweat, cheeks flushed from their passion.
"What does this mean?"
Draco wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He took a moment, a long moment, considering what was just asked of him, pulling his son close against his chest.
"I guess this means that I've fallen in love."
The answer was what Scorpius wanted to hear. Draco was still mulling the words over in his head as his son fell asleep in his arms.
Draco wasn't quite sure whom it was he'd fallen in love yet, with his son or with himself, but he didn't think it really mattered.
He was a Malfoy and Malfoys always got what they wanted.
-fin-