A/N: I'm sorry for being late with posting this chapter. Winter has struck… Yes, that dreadful time of year is upon us again and the grey sky and rain are the best things to quash one's inspiration.
What Draco missed in the end of Dumbledore's speech is that professor Grubly-Plank was to take over for Hagrid while he's in Berlin and that the first and second year would have a library hour instead of flying lessons. The next couple Captains meeting are cancelled and training will go as usual.
..oo00oo..
Draco
I stormed my way up and down the corridors until I reached my destiny. The Ravenclaw tower. I knocked on the portrait hole, trying to ignore the hideous painting, is it just me or does the guards of the common rooms in this place are selected purely based on their ugliness?
The portrait swung to reveal a little girl; she took one look at me and cowered in fear. While this would have inflated my ego any other day, right now it was annoying.
"I need to speak to Michael." I said and the girl just stared at me, I crossed my arms on my chest and gave her a stern look, "Did you hear what I said?" she nodded, still not moving. Gods, who ever said that Ravenclaws are the smart lot? I was already mad and this attitude wasn't doing much to improve my temper. "Is there anyone here above the age of 12?" I demanded in my most menacing voice and that finally brought some reaction from the silly girl, only not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, she bristled like a little cat,
"I'm not 12, I'm 13!" she nearly growled. I contemplated whether I should hex her of simply punch her in the face when someone approached the portrait hole,
"What is it Stacy?" I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath, Mandy Brocklehurst. Just great, not only did I have to endure her attitude in captains meetings, I had to face her now as well. "Malfoy." She said coldly when she spotted me,
"Brocklehurst."
"What do you want?" Her voice was cold and hard and in one swift mental motion I was back into my old tactics of manipulation and cold-heartedness. And suddenly it dawned on me that ever since this year began I haven't been this cold to others. Well, what do you know; Oliver was actually being a good influence on me…
"I need to see Michael." I said and she looked like she would love nothing better than to slam the portrait in my face and leave me on their door step. At length she turned to the little girl and said in an exasperated voice, "Stacy, go get Michael." The girl disappeared and Brocklehurst and I were left to glare at each other. Thankfully it didn't take Michael long to come, when he saw me his face immediately broke into a huge smile,
"Draco, what are you doing here?"
"I thought we could, hmm, go somewhere and talk." I said casually and hoped that Brocklehurst didn't catch the emphasis on the last word. She did, at least that what her glare said. Ravenclaws might not be as smart as people think, but they are a little too attentive.
"Sure," Michael on the other hand was desperately trying to sound casual and failing quite abysmally which didn't really help me look better in the eyes of Brocklehurst. "Let me just go get my bag." With that he disappeared again and I was left with a very suspicious and angry Quidditch captain.
"I know what you're up to, Draco." Her voice was dripping with malice, "and you better watch your arse, because if you harm him, you'll have the entire Ravenclaw house to answer to."
"Oh, really?" my voice was bored and unaffected, if only to vex her further, "I'm so scared."
"As you should be." She said darkly and at that precise point Michael chose to appear. Weather he heard our spout or not he didn't show it. He lightly kissed Brocklehurst's cheek and then grabbed my arm and dragged me after him away from the tower.
"So. Where are we going?" he asked as we rounded another corner. I have no idea… I didn't actually go as far as planning where we're actually going. But we were descending towards the fifth floor and that gave me an idea,
"You'll see." I said and started to lead the way towards a defined destination rather than wondering aimlessly. We soon made it there and I stood in front of the door that was left to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, Michael looked around curiously, I whispered the password and the door cracked open. Once we were inside Michael was nothing short of gob smacked with awe. Or dare I say- Bewildered
"Where the hell are we?" He asked in a hushed whisper that rang from the wall nonetheless.
"The Prefects' Bathroom." I announced proudly and narrowly resisted the temptation to add "Tah- dah" because that would be really stupid.
"Wow." He breathed softly and dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud and went to explore the room.
I stood and watched him, because it was fun and he was so cute, the way he walked around looking at everything and murmuring to himself.
"Gods," he turned to me and announced happily, "This place is amazing! I mean, the lighting, the décor. Perfect." I smiled at him and tried to think of something sophisticated enough to say in response- because I never noticed the lighting and most defiantly never looked at the décor. I come here for the bubbles.
Before I could come up with something Michael was standing in front of me. He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me deep. When he pulled back he whispered,
"Strip." I looked up a little shocked, how did we end up talking about striping? We were somewhere between décor and light.
"Excuse me?"
"Remember I said I wanted to draw you? I still do. Now strip." He breathed in my ear and I realized I just lost my dominancy over the situation. I was the one who was suppose to woo him, seduce him and all and now the tables are turned and I'm the one being seduced. How did all the years of self-control practice go? Was I waiting too long to enter the whole sex game that I don't even know the rules? In a space of two weeks I had a lover that probably shagged his way through half the gay community in London- wizard and muggle alike, and another would-be lover whose eyes confirmed that he was more than eager to learn and teach new things. I believe that right now I have very few options.
I pulled myself free from Michael's grasp and shrugged out of my robes. Michael's face broke into a huge grin and he crossed his arms on his chest, expecting. I undid my tie and threw it at him. Suddenly I missed Oliver's infernos music machine, but I had to do without. I started to unbutton my shirt and then turned around and walked over towards the huge bath. I pulled out my wand and tapped the taps while continuing to unbutton myself, one handed. When the shirt was open I shrugged it off my shoulders while sending a seductive smile behind me. Michael wasn't looking at me, which was a bit of a disappointment. He was busy rummaging through his bag in pursuit of an elusive pencil, drawing pad already in hand. I was especially pleased to note that his shirt was un-tucked and his tie missing. Well, looks like I won't be the only one stripped for much longer.
While the bath was merrily filling up I turned to face Michael again. He perched himself on the edge of one long bench waiting for me. I walked over to the big pile of fluffy white towels that was piled near the wall and took one. I could feel Michael's eyes following me in each turn, I wasn't entirely sure he wasn't already sketching me in his mind's eye before I even posed for him, but it still felt good to have someone appreciate your looks. I grabbed a few more of the towels and went back to the bench, towing my shoes and socks off in the process and managing to do so without falling flat on my face- a success in my book.
When it was time to shed my trousers I suddenly felt a little self-conscious and I blame it all to Michael intent scrutiny on me. It felt weird to be the only one naked; after all, the last time I got this close to someone we were both naked at that point. I therefore wrapped a towel firmly around my waist and then dropped my trousers and pants to the floor, kicking them aside. Michael looked at me with something that resembled disappointment in his eyes.
"Your turn." I told him and he raised his eyebrows at me, "I refuse to be the only one naked around here," I explained, "Strip!" he smiled as his own words came back to haunt him and rose from his seat. Before long we were both sitting on the bench, facing each other and wearing nothing but white towels. I wasn't sure how to proceed from here but as it turned out Michael was dead set in his idea of drawing me, he leaned towards me and whispered,
"Lie back." I did as he bid and he stuffed a free towel under my head, and then began arranging my features for his comfort. I soon ended up lying on my back with one arm tucked under my head while the other was resting on my stomach. My legs were spread on both sides of the bench and the white towel was hanging open, one corner of it covering my "bits and pieces". I decided against a full nude picture, not because I was particularly embarrassed with my body but because I didn't really felt like having a nude picture of me circulating the school if worst came to worst. Michael was humming a tuneless tune while was working and I stared at the point where the wall connected with the ceiling.
Ok, this is a rather strange position to find yourself in, isn't it? I mean, I could just about guess what was to come next, hell I was counting on it! But then again, what the hell was I suppose to do? Would I take charge and coax Michael into yielding charge to me? Do I even want that? On the one hand, he'd never had sex with a guy before, so I assume the logical step would be for me- the experienced one (I feel like a real dolt just thinking of myself as "experience" when all I ever did was…) anyway, I could do it and go seme on him. But then again, I was kind of fond of the uke part… doesn't really sit down with my control-freak nature but I do. I love it when Oliver is over me, around me, inside me. Shit! Where did that come from? I meant someone. I love it when someone is over me, around me, inside me. Right! Someone, anyone really.
"Draco. Stop fidgeting." Michael instructed with a clipped tone and didn't even bother to lift his eyes from his drawing pad. I relaxed back into my position and tried to calm myself. Of course I thought about Oliver- he was the only one who ever done any of this to me before. I should stop getting my knickers in a twist, especially when I don't have them on me at the moment. And I should stop thinking what is about to happen next. I should just relax and let things take their course. Only… I was lying here on the bench, feeling very uncomfortable and could do absolutely nothing but think. The ceiling could hold only this much interest, décor or no.
"Are you going to finish soon?" I asked in a rather bored voice, just to let Michael know that while modelling had its prestige or whatever- it was too damn difficult for me. As much as my position had originally been comfortable, the bench most defiantly wasn't. It was digging in my back and my bum felt completely numb.
"Yes. You want to have a look?" I immediately rose to a sitting position, feeling every muscle and bone in my back cracking in protest. Michael handed me the pad with a sheepish smile, not meeting my eyes. I took it from him and looked at myself. Merlin! I had absolutely no idea I looked this good.
"Michael, it's…" I was sieving through my entire vocabulary to come up with something adequate and not too corny to express my views of the drawing, but before I could say anything Michael started to babble nervously,
"It's not very good, I usually take longer to put the finishing touches and all that, and…" At that point I mercifully silenced him with a kiss. It seemed more personal and less insulting than putting my hand on his mouth, plus it gave me a very good way of expressing how much I liked his drawing.
I pulled closer and closer to him, pushing him backwards on the bench. And soon he was trapped under me; I paused only once to grab a towel from the floor and stuck it under his head.
"I love your drawing." I purred in his ear, though the actual work of art was currently thrown carelessly on the floor but neither of us really cared. I started running my hands and lips on his body, purposely going south. Michael's physique was as different from Oliver's as they come. While Michael was lithe and lightly toned, thin and long limbed, Oliver was big, muscular and strong. His muscles were almost sketched, with firm lines and contours- he was all man, whereas Michael was slightly childlike still almost feminine, more like me. And why in the name of all that is holly am I thinking that right now? Focus Draco!
When I reached his naval I decided to abandon all pretence of games and just go for it, before this whole Oliver vs. Michael thing will drive me nuts.
"Allow me to… Thank you." I lifted my eyes at him, to see his reaction. Did I expect Michael to flinch, the way I did the first time Oliver made that kind of offer to me? Would I feel better if he did? Because he didn't, not in the least, in fact he looked rather eager- dropping his head back; eyes rolling backwards as I finally took him in my mouth. But I couldn't concentrate completely on my task, and I couldn't help but ask the question that was buzzing in my skull,
"Did the Weasley girl ever do this for you?"
"Oh, yeah… and much more." I opened my eyes wide and glared at Michael; my glare was completely lost on him since he was far busier with the fact that practically all the blood left his brain.
"Care to elaborate?" I don't know why I was so jealous of the stupid, slut of a Weasley. But there it was I was jealous of a Weasley. I sank to a whole new low. If I wasn't in the middle of giving someone a blowjob I might have tried drowning myself in the swimming pool size tub.
"Hmm, no, not right now." Michael replied and lifted his head, I gave him the best smile I could summon under the circumstances and he gestured towards his neglected erection, his eyes so clouded with lust he didn't really see my smile at all. Which I suppose was for the best because to me it felt more like a grimace than a smile. "If you please." His head dropped backwards again and I couldn't help but grin, the way he was pleadingly bossing me around was quite remarkable. I bent down again to resume my previous action, and soon all thoughts of the Weasley girl fled from my head.
I would never go as far as saying that I have any sort of experience in this matter, but I did do it at least twice before and I was royally pissed at the unfair and uncalled for competition with any Weasley so I felt rather adventurous right now. I was inspired to do things I never thought I'd do before like grabbing Michael's balls in my palm and roll them gently. Or like biting the soft skin of his inner thigh, hard enough to elicit a pleased moan, but not too hard as to leave a mark. I didn't dare to try deep throating though, Oliver could do it, and very beautifully at that but I wasn't sure how to go about doing that. I didn't really fancy ending up suffocating. But even the little experience I had allowed me to pinpoint the moment that Michael reached his peak and thus I could remove my mouth just in time. There was no excuse for ending up gagging and splattering after your first time.
I cleaned Michael with the corner of the towel, carefully and softly. I looked up at him to see that he was still breathing hard and his head was still tilted back, eyes closed. He looked so beautiful, even more than he usually does (which is somewhat hard because he's defiantly one of the prettiest boys I've ever seen). When he finally opened his eyes and looked at me I smiled at him. He returned the smile and rose on his elbows, and then slowly to a sitting position, I bet his back was also killing him right now. This is most defiantly the sort of things that should take place in a soft bed rather than a hard bench.
I watch him as he slowly return from the edge and open his eyes slowly.
"Wow. If I knew that this would be the payoff for drawing you, I would have done it long ago." I can't help the smile from creeping on my face, not the little jolt and bust of pride.
We kissed again, softly and tenderly, driving each other mad with passion again. At least driving me mad because I'm really hard and I need fucking release, "Well, it hardly seem fair that I would be the only one around with a goofy smile on his face, now isn't it? On your back, Mister." I lower myself back without braking eye contact with him, my tongue moistening my lips and my eyes give him the most predatory look. My wanton seduction was somewhat spoiled by the fact that I didn't really calculated the distance to the bench and my head ended up hitting the hard wooden surface with a loud "bonk".
A rather undignified "Ouch!" escapes my lips and I can see Michael is working hard not to laugh. Instead he readjusts the towel under my head and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips to make me forget the pain.
Now it was my turn to lie back on the bench and let Michael figure out things, as a matter of fact he was better at this than me, I guess that receiving a blowjob ultimately gives you some knowledge of how it should be given. So all I could do was to relax back and enjoy. And enjoy I did. Michael wasn't half as experienced as Oliver, naturally but… shit! I am not starting this one up again! Michael is not Oliver!
"What did you say?" the delicious friction was gone and for a few seconds I was completely taken back by that to actually hear what I was being asked,
"Hmm?" I finally managed, slowly opening my eyes. Michael's face suddenly loomed and filled my vision, and he did not look happy.
"Did you just cry out "Oliver"?" I'm not sure, I might, I was thinking about him. Or rather trying to tell myself I wasn't.
"M-Michael…" it was too little and too late, and he knew it and now so do I. Michael fisted me angrily and started stroking me, not too gently. My head rolled back- no matter how bad I was feeling for making such a terrible mistake, this was fucking good! It didn't take me long to come under that treatment and I ended up breathing hard and biting my bottom lip. I knew I should say something, try to make things right but I couldn't think, I couldn't move. I felt Michael tossing his towel on me and then his presence was gone and I was suddenly cold.
I opened my eyes and looked around me. I could still see the drawing pad on the floor and that was a relief- I didn't want Michael to bolt before I got the chance to explain. Not that I had any idea what I could say but at least I had a chance to say something. I rose from the bench and cleaned myself. I could see Michael inside the tub, his head back to me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what is about to come and move to the tub. A painful hiss escapes my lips as the hot water touches my ultra-sensitive skin and it takes me a couple of seconds to adjust. Michael is stubbornly looking ahead and refuses to acknowledge me, I can hardly blame him. I'd probably hex his genitals into Flabberworm if he cried out the Weasllette name.
"Michael," well it's a good start… at least he knows I haven't forgotten his name completely.
"Oliver. As in Oliver Wood?" he still doesn't look at me and therefore I have to say it rather than nod it. "Not bad." He concluded and I can't help but chuckle. This gets Michael to look at me,
"I'm sorry." I chew on my lip trying to find the right words, but there are none really.
"Don't be. Hell, if I had Wood in my mouth, I'd shout it for the world to know." My eyes open so wide I fear for a moment they will fall out. I do not get this guy! This is bordering in frustration. Whenever I think I had him pegged he goes around and does something like this. "So, I take it you're speaking from experience?"
"You could say that." I answer quietly, not too keen to have this conversation right now.
"I can't do it, Draco. I can't be a replacement again. I can't be the one you go to when things don't work out for you with Wood." He sounds so sad and I just can't help myself. I reach out for him and hug him tight. He doesn't recoil but doesn't lean in either.
"I know and I'm really sorry. I never meant for things to go this way." Slowly he lowers his head and rests it on my shoulder while his arms snick around me. We stand like that in silence for a while, just holding each other, "Why are you here?" I pull back a little to look Michael in the eye,
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you here with me and not somewhere with Oliver?" Well, isn't this the Million galleons question…
"He doesn't want me." It's so simple to say, but so hard to comprehend. And I expect more consideration for my misery, not a snort of laughter!
"Oh, come on. Are you taking the mickey with me? So I suppose the glare he gave didn't in fact mean "Stay away from my guy, you arse"?"
"What glare?" Are Michael and Oliver secretly rendezvousing to fight over me? Interesting thought, untrue as it may be.
"That day when we met him on the stairs, after we first kissed," Michael is giving me a look that clearly says- how could you forget. Well, as a matter of fact I didn't, but I was having a really difficult time controlling my own emotions so I didn't really pay much attention to what was going on with Michael. "I swear, if someone could cast an 'Avada Kedavra' with his eyes only you'd be attending my funeral right now." I gave a wistful little smile at that, the words felt really good to hear but were they really true? Could I bring myself as far as believing them?
"You should really go after him." Michael concluded, well easier said than done, right?
"I can't."
"Why not?" Now he sounds almost desperate. I will not let the fact that we are standing inside a tub full of colourful bubbles, stark naked and holding each other to distract Michael from his train of thought, or would I?
"Well, for one thing, he's going to bloody Berlin tomorrow."
"He's going to come back in about two weeks."
"What if he doesn't?" yes, I can actually amerce myself in self-pity like you wouldn't believe, "What if he finds a husky young German guy to warm him up at nights?" Gods, I can just see it happening… Obviously Michael can't, or maybe he can and it amuses him greatly, in which case- he's being very cruel.
"Ok, quite your whining and promise me something."
"What?" I still try to pout cutely, but now I don't really feel too bad about things. It's hard to mop for too long around Michael.
"That you would go for Oliver, as soon as he comes back from Berlin. And you're going to make it work." I found myself nodding before I even had time to thought about it, and then it was too late to back up. Michael smiled at me and I suddenly felt much better with the decision made for me. I captured Michael's lips with mine and felt him melt into the kiss just as I melted too. When we broke apart I was feeling better than I had in the past couple of weeks. I felt sort of, how I should put it- resulted, maybe even complete. Now it was time to ask Michael about his strange earlier statement,
"What do you mean when you say again?" Michael tilts his head back to look at me and I can't help but catch the wicked little gleam that passes his eyes,
"Well, usually it means that you are repeating whatever it is you did before." He says with a smug voice and I fight the urge to sink him. Instead- I glare, and he chuckles softly at his own joke before sobering up. "It's Ginny."
"The Weasley girl?" I just need to make sure; I can't be buggered to remember the name of a Weasley, now can I? Michael nodded,
"She never really wanted me; she just went out with me to get someone else jealous."
"The little bitch!" I exclaim loudly. Michael cocks an eyebrow at me, well, she is. It's nothing like what I did! Nothing! I thought it was the real thing.
"I don't know. I guess it's a little ironic that we both used to fantasise about the same guy while having sex." It is? I wouldn't really know.
"Who is it?" I can't help it, I love gossip, I need it to fuel my plots and schemes. Right now, I was just burning up with curiosity. Michael eyes were downcast and he muttered something under his breath, "Excuse me? I must be having troubles hearing, did you just say Harry Potter?" he bites his lip holding back a small smile and I know it's true. "Fuck, Michael, I expected more from you." I say gravely,
"Why? What's wrong with Potter?"
"Hmm, where should I begin?" I was only half-joking, actually I wasn't joking at all but if Michael has the hots for the "Golden Boy" I can't really sneer at him, not after what happened before. "He's a goody-goody, has a hero-complex, absolutely no fucking fashion sense, he's a four-eyed git!" I declare, and that's just the start.
"He's dead sexy and cute and his got a mouth on him you just know can do things. He's a walking sex god!" Michael declares firmly and now it's my turn to hide a smile.
"Nah. I wouldn't touch Potter with a bloody ten foot poll!"
"Good!" we stare at each other for a couple of seconds and then burst out laughing. With a swooping motion Michael is capturing my face with his hands and his lips are on mine again. The kiss seems to last forever, neither of us care that we are getting all pruny by the water. We swirl around in our embrace deeper and deeper into the bubbles, surrounded by little colourful rainbows.
"What are we doing?" I ask breathlessly once we pull apart.
"Making out." Michael answers firmly. "We have one night to indulge ourselves in acting like friends with benefits."
"So as of tomorrow we no longer have benefits? Or are we no longer friends?" I asked amused, Michael's hand is rising to push me playfully and I retaliate by throwing a big pink bubble at him. Well, I might have lost a new lover but I gained a new friend and I have a feeling this would prove to be a whole lot better.
A/N: Draco is a prefect, that why he has the password. No dirty tricks here.
Hey, it's not my fault that he's reading all this YAOI manga and then takes ideas from it!
BTW- Seme is the one who's topping and Uke is the one bottoming.
Goodness, that was a total bitch to write, and I don't even know why, I've been practically dreaming about this episode for the last couple of weeks (very nice… oh, yes indeed) but when the time came to put it down in words, I totally froze. Two bloody weeks!!! TWO! Un-fucking-believable!
Next time on "Nothing As It Seems" – Oliver in Berlin. I didn't forget about him, don't worry.
