A/N: This is written for the One Hour Challenge with Tom/Orion and "never again". This is also for the Pairing Divesting Boot Camp with the prompt 'picture perfect', the Character Diversity Boot Camp with the prompt book, the Favourite Era Boot Camp with the prompt lick and the Favourite House Boot Camp with the prompt common room. Also, just because this isn't for enough things, it is also for the Kink Challenge with the prompt 'erotic drawings'.
Again please note the rating. I'm also very excited to report that this is my first smutty slash fic and my first Voldemort slash fic! For that reason, if anything is not quite right please be kind and let me know.
)o(
The Slytherin Common Room had always suited Orion's tastes. It was grand, filled with antiques and, above all, it was dark and quiet. It might be a strange point to admire, but Orion had always enjoyed allowing the darkness to settle around him so he could disappear into a niche in the walls. He could watch and judge others without being seen.
Orion might have been the heir to the Black line, but it did not mean he needed to be showy. His name alone gave him status. He hardly needed to gain more for himself. Besides, it would have been torturous to tolerate others whose bloodline was not as prestigious or who could say nothing else, but pure dribble.
Instead he liked his solitude.
At present, he was finding it particularly desirable.
Having dragged one of the low backed leather armchairs into a corner, he rested and specifically placed various thick textbooks so the yellowing pages stared up at him and were positioned perfectly for him to observe.
He did not. Even the one resting at a strategic angle at his lap, did not attract his gaze. Instead, his stare flicked slowly from the notepad hidden in the book to the boys arranged on armchairs by the fire.
Despite being a year or two younger them some, his heritage would have allowed him to join them with ease. Instead he remained at a distance allowing his stony eyes to fixate on the picture perfect figure in the centre.
Sitting on a single leather armchair, his frame was tall and straight like a ruler was behind it, his hair was inky black and appeared so soft, his eyes were a lovely midnight blue and his face was like it was made of marble; a flawless pale sheen, sculptured cheekbones and delicate pink lips.
Orion had long ago abandoned denying how much Tom Riddle drew him in. He enchanted everyone, but, as a man, it was improper to think about him as anything more than a confidant or partner. His Black name would have saved him from prison for acting on those desires, but not from social disgrace.
Despite that he had accepted because he was confident in the safety of his mind. There were enormous volumes hidden thoughts within and, as long as they remained locked, it would not be an issue.
After all, he could merely sit and watch such a lovely specimen. His eyes traced over every features engraving them into his mind so he could reinvigorate them when he was alone in bed and his cock was in his hand. His gaze was concentrated in order to ensure that the picture perfect figure was translated into his quill.
Glancing down at the parchment, Orion scratched with his quill, his tongue extended slightly as he shaded in the iris. He concentrated on the gleam in Tom's eye which must have been produced by explaining something important to the group, but, in his picture, his stare was caused by something completely different.
Orion never drew in public like this. Drawing and art was something of his guilty pleasure that he utilised when he had moments of blessed solitude. It was perhaps too feminine for something he would want the whole world to know about, but it was something his acquaintances were aware of. However, this was something more than drawing. The topic and focus was completely inappropriate to be seen of in public.
Lifting his quill from Tom's eyes, he returned to the figure of himself in the drawing. He was reclining in a bed without a trace of clothing covering his body. His eyes were truly alive and jubilant and his cock was hard and flush.
The artist Orion found his trousers growing tight and expertly adjusted the position of his textbook to hide any trace that anything was amiss. It was the sacrifice he had made when he started his art work in public, but he knew it was worth it when his focus of his artwork was so close and it made his work so much more authentic. It would be so much more pleasing when he started at the picture later under the light from his wand and could thrust into his hand.
Orion kept his quill moving focusing on Tom's lips as he spoke to ensure they were accurate. He was reasonably sure they were as he lightly sketched out the drawing Tom, his tongue lightly extended to brush against the underside of Orion's cock.
Inside his trousers, he knew he was growing harder, but he could not help himself he had to go on. With every trace of his quill his vision was coming to life before him. He could now so easily see Tom's tongue running along his stomach, circling his balls until finally his whole mouth would wrap around him.
The desire to take care of the ache within his balls grew, but he held out. No, he would finish this. He swore he would. He needed to. For some reason something inside of his screamed for him to keep drawing and he did.
For nearly another half an hour, he worked on his masterpiece. His longing never diminished. It only grew and intensified until finally he could stare down at his work and truly smile at what he had before him.
The picture Orion had his mouth open in a moan and was leaning up to picture Tom's lips who slowly teased and licked him. Tom was flawless. Even more picture perfect than the reality who still held court with his associates.
Holding the textbook still at its strategic position, Orion stood watching Tom from the corner of his eye as he headed for his dormitory and the relief he desperately needed.
He knew he was being foolish and ridiculous, but he imagined those soft lips opening. "Don't worry Orion," Tom would say his voice silkily and flawless. "You have me now. Never again do you need your drawings."
Even though the vision was altogether foolish, it and the drawing before him were on Orion's mind when he finally got the hangings around his bed closed and stuffed his hand into his trousers.
