"I'm cold."
Draco's voice cut across the crackle of the firewood. "You're a fucking limpet, is what you are."
Charlie snorted, squeezing Draco around the middle as he curled himself against Draco's back. His nose tickled into the ashy blond hair at the nape of Draco's neck, causing Draco to arch against him, long legs tangling with his as they sprawled on the Persian rug. Their skin flickered orange and red from the light of the fire and the Christmas tree in the corner.
Draco's place was quite a change to the huts in the dragon reserve, lavish and comfortable. The air was still cool, however; not even magic could shield them from the harsh winters of the Carpați Mountains. Draco had bought a chalet in Romania—the rich, beautiful bastard. He'd bought it six months into his time at the reserve so he could have a vacation home, not even sure if he'd be returning the next year to work as the resident potioneer. Charlie had laughed at his impulsivity at the time, but now, lying with said impulsive man in the living room of his home... He was starting to see the appeal.
Charlie fanned his hand against Draco's chest, observing the rise and fall of his pale ribs under Charlie's tanned, freckled, tattooed skin.
"I could be persuaded to warm you up," he said, turning his head and searching out Charlie's mouth. They kissed lazily, Charlie's hands sneaking up the front of Draco's button-down.
Yes, Charlie was really starting to see the appeal.
"What can I do to persuade you, hmm?" Charlie asked.
Draco watched Charlie for a moment before turning around completely to press him into the carpet. "Let me fuck you."
Charlie smiled at the note of uncertainty in Draco's voice. "Deal. Although you needn't barter for that. You could have me anytime you wanted." Charlie craned his neck to kiss Draco again. "You know that, right?"
"I was just being a gentleman," Draco lied, sneeringly. He leaned down and nipped at Charlie's lip.
Charlie's laugh was muffled when Draco's bites gave way to laving kisses.
"Let's go somewhere more comfortable," Draco began, but became distracted as Charlie wrapped his legs around his waist.
"No," moaned Charlie. "This is perfect."
"Such a Gryffindor," Draco murmured.
"You love it." Charlie arched against Draco, groaning softly when his arms were pinned above his head.
"I do," Draco said, and proceeded to show him just how much.
When Charlie was satisfactorily warm and pliant and shining, Draco sent a nudge of magic into the hearth, and smiled smugly as he spooned Charlie to his chest.