Title: Lunacy.
Author: BelleCat.
Rating: M
Pairing: Draco/FILCH!
Summary: The first day of summer, 1996, was the day that made up for the rest of Argus Filch's abysmal life.
Disclaimer: If I owned HP, Draco and Harry would have hot gay sex in every book multiple times. Clearly (and unfortunately) I don't.
Warning: To anyone who finds either character OOC, I apologize but honestly, if Draco was not OOC at all he wouldn't even be talking to Filch.
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The first day of summer, 1996, was the day that made up for the rest of Argus Filch's abysmal life.
That morning, it didn't matter that he was a squib, or that he was hunchbacked and rheumatic. It didn't matter that his hair was falling out constantly, that his eyes bulged out of their sockets and his jowls quivered, or that he only possessed filthy, aged, moth eaten clothes. It didn't even matter that his only ally in life for the last 45 years had been a mangy cat. No, the only thing that mattered on May 2nd, 1996 at precisely 12:24pm was that Draco Malfoy, Poster Boy of Slytherin, wanted his attention.
"Filch," he had drawled, in that same drawl Malfoy Senior used but instead somehow it was rather becoming on the younger boy, "Could I have a word?"
Filch blinked, watercolor eyes widened in shock. Over the years he had become a wallflower, simply part of the stone and wood that made Hogwarts and really, after their first year, the students would forget about 'that moody old git' and that would be the end of that. He had come to know the kids these days as three things; obnoxious, rude, and in need of a good caning. Yet here, standing in front of his decrepit old body, was a boy who had noticed his existence. He was young and perhaps more importantly he was beautiful, standing straight and tall with perfect, taut skin so white it rivaled his clean, starched shirt and cool eyes that glistened like frost and platinum, silken hair hanging in them. His face, all pouty lips and high cheekbones and strong jaw, was totally devoid of emotion and the older man couldn't tell if this beauty before him was being serious or taking the piss.
"I'm busy, boy-"
"Please!" It was urgent, an outburst laced with panic that shocked both men. After a few moments the boy continued in a level voice, "I must talk to you privately. Immediately."
Filch sighed, rising to his feet slowly but as quickly as his aching muscles would allow. The blond before him murmured something which sounded a lot like 'Thank you.' but couldn't possibly be and turned on his heel before walking briskly up the staircase that led to the heavy, oak doors that made up the entrance to Hogwarts and slid through the gap between them and away from the sun that made his skin seem to glow. Filch thought this was a shame but kept the thought to himself, instead hastening to catch up with the pretty sixth year and his long legs. By the time they reached their destination on the Fourth Floor, the sparsely-haired man was wheezing and a thin film of sweat shone in the flickering candlelight on his forehead.
"In here," Draco whispered, and in the dim light when his eyes met the Caretaker's they were smoldering. With long fingers pressed firmly against the door, the Slytherin pushed it open and Filch was greeted with the sight of an empty storeroom, empty par a large, rectangular object in the middle of the room that he couldn't make out due to the thick dust that had settled in the air and bad eyesight from old age. Malfoy, who Filch had seen so proud and haughty before, nose up in the air and every bit like his father in the way he looked down at other people from it, seemed nervous. He gave the older man a nervous glance before taking a deep, shuddering breath, and took out his wand. Filch flinched, disgusted he could have fallen into this trap, but instead of hexing him the youngest Malfoy simply flicked his wrist and locked the door, before returning the wand back to it's original place. The Caretaker was confused as to why he had felt betrayed in that moment but he had little time to contemplate this before Malfoy spoke up.
"Filch, I want you to-" His voice caught in his throat and he looked embarrassed, "I want you to... fuck me."
Now that he thought about it, sensibly, Argus Filch should have laughed. He would have. It was an entirely preposterous situation and whoever had put the young Malfoy up to it certainly had a lot of balls - of course Draco Malfoy, Slytherin God and Hogwarts Most Lusted After wouldn't have gone into this willingly. He didn't think Irma Pince would have freely offered her body to him, let alone someone as dangerously gorgeous as the pureblood blond. He should have kept that in mind, remembered to warn Dumbledore that one of the students was practicing Unforgivables and Malfoy was surely Imperiused.
Instead, he had agreed.
Perhaps it was the utter hopelessness and desperation on Draco Malfoy's face that had made him say yes, but it was more likely the fact he hadn't been with anyone in longer than he cared (or could) remember. Whatever it was, as soon as he nodded, the sixteen year old boy before him had crossed the distance between them and tentatively pressed his rose petal lips to Filch's old, weathered mouth. It was at that moment that Filch decided he didn't care - because God knew what made a young boy give himself to an old has-been like him - but he definitely wasn't going to give up a once in a lifetime opportunity. Carding stubby, dirty fingers through immaculate hair and running a bold tongue along the student's bottom lip, making him moan quietly, Filch realized that the thought of sullying this precious creature made a unfamiliar feeling return to his netheregions; a feeling he remembered last experiencing when he was around the boy's age.
The hours that followed in the stuffy little room with no windows where the Mirror of Erised had been kept five years prior turned out to be the best in all of Argus Filch's miserable existence. In all honesty he had no idea how he managed to stay erect for so long; he suspected that he had a little help from a spell Draco had cast but when said beautiful boy's perfect, pink mouth was around his impossibly hard member doing the most incredible things to it, Filch decided magic possibly wasn't so pesky after all. And when he had Draco, sprawled naked on the mattress on the floor, buried deep inside him and his name by cried over and over from those amazing lips, Filch decided magic was positively wonderful.
When they were done and Filch could give no more, he pulled out and lay down on the small mattress next the angel who turned out, whilst high on an orgasm, had a very dirty mouth. Hesistantly, in a rough voice weathered by age and hardship, he asked the question that had been plaguing his mind, simultaneously cringing at what the answer could be. In response, Draco Malfoy laughed lightly.
"Why?" He looked at the old man and the grin on his face made him absoloutely breathtaking, "Sheer lunacy."