Rated R: for adult content, adult themes, adult language, nudity, sexual content, lemony goodness, and male/male action. No one under seventeen permitted without a parent.(Just Kidding)

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters...but if I did, who knows what kind of naughty things I'd make him do...tee-hee!

"Five minutes, Dragon!" a voice called from outside the dressing room door. Draco stood in front of his full-length mirror, not showing any sign of having heard the time notice. His heart pounded in his chest as he examined himself in his outfit. He had been dancing at Club Venom for six weeks, now, but he still got extremely nervous before he got on stage.

He studied himself carefully, making sure every part of his leather ensemble was just right, from the leather pants he wore just low enough on his hips to give everyone a peek at the black thong he wore under them to the enchanted rhinestones shining across his bare chest, in the shape of his favorite dragon, the Indian Sky Serpent. He grabbed the leather vest and mask hanging over the top of the mirror and put them both on. Perfect, he thought to himself, looking at the finished image. And now for the final touch. He walked to his large chestnut dresser and picked up the wand that sat atop it. Then, pointing it to his head, he muttered, "Capillus Inficere." A light tingle engulfed the entire top of his head as his hair darkened and began to shrink back into his head. When the tingling lifted, his hair was short, black, and spiky.

"You're on in one minute, Dragon," called the same voice. After a quick second glance in his mirror, he pulled his dressing room door open and walked out into the backstage area. His friend, who also happened to be the club announcer, Geoffrey Tolk, immediately greeted him.

"Lot's of fine men out there tonight," he said with a broad grin. "Are you ready Draco- I mean, Dragon?" Unable to speak, Draco simply nodded. "Don't worry," Geoffrey said, tuning in to Draco's anxiety, "you're going to blow them away."

"If you say so, Geoffrey" Draco said, finding his voice.

With a quick pat on the back, Geoffrey left him. Draco took his place behind the red curtain. "GENTLEMEN," he heard Geoffrey's magnified voice say, "THE MOMENT YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR HAS ARRIVED! PLEASE, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR...THE DRAGON!"

As soon as he the curtain rose, all feelings of doubt and anxiety left him. His eyes skimmed over some of the faces in the crowd. Geoffrey was right; there were some very handsome men out there. But none of them were the one he was looking for. There was only one person he wanted and that person wasn't there. He heard the opening notes of his song, "I'm Yours" by Celestina Warbeck, and his troubles left him. The spotlight hit him and the dragon within him was released. At once, he closed his eyes and his body began to move.

It started with his hips. He moved them very slowly at first,- as the song began slowly- mimicking the graceful movements of the Sky Serpent. As the music began to pick up speed, his dancing followed. His hands traveled up and down his body, as the image of the one he wanted to be there- the one he wanted to be watching him- came into his mind. Oh, how he wished it were his body his hands were running over, instead of his own; his clothes he were stripping off.

Completely lost in thoughts of the one he loved, Draco allowed his dance moves to become more explicit. He touched himself more liberally, letting his fingers linger over certain tender spots, reveling in the pleasure his hands brought him. As he peeled the last article of clothing off of his body, he pictured his love doing it instead. Suddenly, he became rather aware of the appendage hanging between his legs. Luckily, the music ended and he was able to stop himself, before he went over the edge right there on the stage.

After the song had died, his senses returned and he realized he was being showered with applause. He picked his clothes up off of the stage floor and took a bow before he went backstage.

One of the stagehands was waiting for him, behind the curtain, with a long, black, silk robe. He took it, put it on, and walked to his dressing room. Geoffrey caught up with him and followed him in.

"Oh my God, Draco!" he exclaimed as Draco sank into his armchair, "You are unbelievable! The crowd loves you!" Draco smiled, halfheartedly. "I don't know what goes through your mind when you're out there, but whatever it is, it works."

"Thanks," Draco said, quietly.

"I mean, when you're on stage," Geoffrey went on, "you get this look. You're so focused...so...passionate. Look, I have to get going. I have to announce another set but, I'll catch up with you afterward and we'll catch a late dinner." He glanced at his watch. "A really late dinner."

Draco nodded. "Yeah." Without another word, Geoffrey left the dressing room, closing the door behind him. Draco took the mask off and ran his fingers through his hair. "God," he whispered, "the things you do to me, Potter."

AN: So there it was, the prologue to my first slash fic. If you like it, leave a review. If you didn't...leave one anyway.