A/N: Hello Blackians! I'm back with another chapter! So, just as a trigger warning, as you all know, there have been some M/M moments. The beginning of this chapter is no different. Skip past it if you must and don't say I didn't warn you. Because I did. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I own no rights to the Harry Potter universe, nor the characters. I just like to play around in it.

XoXo,

Elle.

Chapter 14

George drifted into awareness before Draco did. His first cognitive thought was of someone in his arms. A strong and masculine scent, one that he recognized, washed over him. As his hazel eyes slid open just a sliver, his sight was met with a shock of white blond hair. Suddenly, George remembered what had transpired a few hours earlier: Scorpius going missing in the massive manor house, Draco going mad looking for him, and George kissing the blond to turn Draco's mind off, to push his reset button.

It amazed George how alike Draco and Hermione were in that way. They both went into a mania over things, and the only way to pull them free of the spiral was to shock them in some way. Today, for Hermione, it seemed to be Scorpius' surprise visit. For Draco, it had been a searing kiss.

George sighed heavily. He knew it didn't change anything for Draco. That wizard was too afraid of what society would think, still. Even though Lucius had been gone for years, the impressions he'd made on his son persisted. The Malfoy name was important to Draco. Even though wizarding society as a whole were fine with homosexuality, Lucius would have seen it as a stain on the Malfoy legacy.

He shifted his hips away from Draco's backside, not wanting to put Draco in an awkward position when he woke. But the wizard just followed George's movements, causing a groan to pull from George's chest. "Dammit, Draco," George muttered under his breath. He was going to have to get out of the bed if Draco kept this up. He was just about to do so when Draco moved his hips again, but Draco whipped his hand around so fast, his fingers digging into George's hip that George stilled.

"Don't move, George," Draco's voice was all rasp, as if he'd been chewing on gravel for hours. The command in that deep voice had George frozen in place, his hand resting on Draco's ribbed stomach, the other gripping the sheets. Draco's grip loosened on George's hip, his hand beginning to move along the ridge of bone, following it inward. George couldn't help but suck in a breath as his erection jerked in anticipation.

Draco's fingers drifted along, the tips bumping into his hard cock, causing George to bite his lip to stifle a groan. George could feel that Draco's breathing had accelerated and was a little erratic. It was hard not to hear as Draco gulped, his fingers lifted and his hand moved to rest and curl over George's shaft. George swallowed thickly himself as he tried to keep his hips still. He knew that this was hard for Draco and wanted to give him the lead.

After a minute of stillness, Draco began moving his hand at an awkward angle, stroking George through the soft cotton sleep trousers he had on. George tilted his head forward resting his face in the curve of Draco's exposed neck and attempted to keep quiet, but there was only so quiet he could stay. He hadn't been touched like this since Draco, and the feeling of someone else's hand on him was almost too much.

In an effort to stifle the sounds of his pleasure, he started placing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of Draco's neck, taking care not to suck too hard on the delicate skin. George remembered all too well how easily his lover's pale flesh marked.

XxX

Draco's mind was at war. One half was yelling at him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't right. Not to get himself attached again or lead George on. But the other half was right in the moment and wanted to turn around so he could look George in those hazel eyes. Only two things were stopping him from doing that: Draco really enjoyed what George was doing to his neck right now, and it would be too emotional to connect gazes with the red-head.

Instead, he slid his free hand up over his head and into George's hair, fingers curling into the shaggy tresses. His other hand was tracing the thick cock hidden beneath the pajamas George had on. Draco was re-learning every vein and ridge through his touch as best he could, but he was prohibited by the fabric. He bent his elbow up and worked his fingers under the waistband, brushing bare skin and curly red hair, earning a deep groan from the wizard behind him.

The sound sent a shiver down his spine, straight into the head of his own cock. Draco let his fingers trail through the curls as he slowly trekked his way down. It only took a couple of moments for his middle and index finger to make contact with the thick base of George's shaft, nestled within the bed of those dark red curls Draco remembered so well. Draco could feel the heat radiating from George's cock and swallowed thickly. He was practically salivating in excitement already.

Draco wrapped his fingers around the thickness and stroked up once, causing both men to emit a sound of pleasure. "Fuck it," Draco growled and flipped his grip, turning over in the bed, pushing George onto his back in the process. George chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling with arousal, as he lifted his hips to help Draco take the trousers down. Draco all but ripped them off George's legs, his eyes zeroed in on George's erection bouncing free of its confines.

"Like what you see, Draco?" George asked, the challenge clear in his voice, and Draco couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face.

A glance at the watch on his wrist told him that Scorpius would be asleep for a while longer. "I don't know. I'm going to have to inspect it and see."

Draco wrapped his hand fore- and middle fingers around the base, the others splayed out on George's abdomen. He leaned in and opened his mouth, allowing a line of spit to trail from his lips, dropping on George's swollen head. George sucked in on a hiss, and Draco smirked as he brought his hand up George's cock, spreading the lubrication around.

George's eyes were locked on him, Draco could feel that hazel stare burning into him. As he swiped his thumb over George's head, spreading the drop of precum that had gathered there, he glanced up, intending to return his gaze back to what he'd been doing. But those eyes drew him in, just as he'd known they would.

George adjusted himself up onto an elbow and brought his free arm up to thread his fingers through Draco's hair, dragging them down to his neck. Then Draco was allowing himself to be pulled in for a searing kiss, their lips moving against each other feverishly at a bruising pace. Draco began to pump his hand in earnest, following the movements of George's tongue in his mouth.

Draco broke away, panting heavily, cock aching with a beat of its own, and looked down at George with wide eyes. Even in the heat of this moment, he was scared. His hand was still pumping on George's cock, twisting as he moved up and down, but there was the fear in the back of his mind and no doubt in his eyes, especially when George's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss Draco again, softer this time.

A whimper left Draco's lips as he leaned into George's chest, his hand slowing, and before he knew it, the dynamic changed from hot, heavy and about George to about Draco. George rolled Draco over easily, his hand falling from George's cock as George kissed him. He could feel fingers lifting the hem of his shirt, and he raised his torso, allowing George to rid him of the garment.

Draco watched as George then removed his own shirt and pressed his body against Draco's. The only thing separating them were Draco's slacks and Draco didn't know if he wanted them off or not. "Draco?"

"Hmm?" Draco looked up at George, and he knew his mind wasn't in the moment any more, his body was, but his mind wasn't.

"You let yourself over think again," George replied, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his elbow.

Draco sighed, beating his head against the pillow, his hand coming up to try and scrub his face off. "I know. I know."

He felt George move beside him, felt the covers settle over the both of them, covering George's nakedness. "What's in that mind of yours? Talk to me."

If he said what was on his mind, he would hate himself, George would likely hate him. "I don't know what I'm doing George. I don't know what I want. I'm floundering around trying to find the shallow end and only going deeper. But I know that the only thing that makes sense—my beacon, my lighthouse—is Scorpius. I should be focused on him and instead, I have you and Granger all in my head, twisting everything up. And I don't know what to do about it." Draco slid from the bed and began pacing. "I know what you're probably thinking, that I'm scared of what society would say or what my father would say if you and I were to be in an open relationship. But the thing is, I'm not. I could not give a damn about what anyone would say."

George's sigh drew Draco's gaze. "Then what has you so hung up, Draco? Why is it so hard to be with me now, versus six months ago?"

That was the question of the year, wasn't it? Draco ran his hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "I loved our time together, George. Don't ever think that I didn't. We both helped each other in ways that therapy never would have touched. But I just— fuck, this is going to sound fucking terrible. I just don't see myself with a guy long term. I hate how that fucking sounds."

Draco raised his eyes to George's and wished he hadn't. The hurt in those hazel eyes of his was paramount. It made Draco want to crawl into a dark hole and die. "Right. Well, I suppose I should probably get dressed. And I need to go check on the shop, check in with my mum."

"I'll give you some privacy, then. I'm going to check on Hermione and Scorpius." Draco spoke quietly, unable to get his voice above a whisper. He left the room quickly, shutting the door behind him. His stomach was bubbling like a cauldron, and he felt as if he could vomit.

The further away from the bedroom he got, the more the feeling intensified, until he found himself running into Hermione's room and darting into the bathroom. Draco was curled around the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach when he felt a hand on his back. "Draco? Are you okay?"

Draco sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching up and flushing the toilet, disposing of the sick. "No, not in the slightest. Is Scorpius still asleep?"

"Yes, I was awake when you came storming in. I laid him down and came to see about you. What happened? Are you sick?" Hermione asked him, putting her wrist to his forehead, feeling for a fever.

"Not in that sense, no. Just made myself sick by breaking someone's heart is all." Draco groaned, leaning his head against the wall, the nausea returning as he thought about the devastation on George's face. "On that note, George might not be back tonight."

Draco could feel Hermione's confusion as she looked at him, her hand brushing the hair from his eyes. "He wanted something you couldn't give, didn't he?"

She'd hit the nail on the head with that question. Draco had felt it, over the last week; George trying to push things in the direction he'd wanted them to go. Not that George was doing it out of malice or spite. He was just a man who knew what he wanted. Draco hadn't thought about it that way, and it took away some of the sickness he felt. "Yes."

"He's good at that. He means well when he does it, but he just doesn't understand that not everyone can give what they don't have. I guess that came with being a twin. Always having someone there to give you what you needed." Hermione gave him a sad smile. "And I'm sure it's truer now than when we dated. He's lost that side of himself and he's searching for it in someone else."

Draco's eyes slid shut as he considered Hermione's words. She'd uncovered yet another thing he hadn't seen himself about George. "I'm not a very good mind healer," He said, his voice defeated.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice coming from farther away. Draco heard the sink turn on and opened an eye to see Hermione wetting a washcloth. He closed his eye once more as she turned to come back to him.

"Because you've noticed things I should have as his mind healer." Draco sighed softly in defeat.

The warmth of the damp cloth against his lips startled him, and he jumped when Hermione wiped his mouth. "Sorry. Yes, I may have noticed those things, Draco, but it comes with years of knowing him. Being as close as family with someone and then dating them, being intimate with them, it gives you a perspective on them that no one else has." Hermione lifted the cloth from Draco's lips and brought it around his temple. The feeling of being taken care of brought him a sense of comfort. "But you also let yourself cross that professional line with him. You both took things personal by starting a relationship, and that tends to lead to blind spots. We don't want to see the things that could be detrimental to what we have going, what could be a good thing. While you loved him, it's best for you to be apart. You are not meant to be with George. I could see the chemistry when I woke up, but I could also see that it isn't meant to be. He needs someone who can give him exactly what he needs. Someone who doesn't have the history you or I do…"

Hermione's voice broke at that point, her eyes turning glassy, and she began to shake. Draco felt his heart clench in his chest as his own thoughts turned to Astoria and Scorpius. "He deserves to be happy. We all do." Draco whispered quietly, catching Hermione's hand, pulling the now cold washcloth from her quaking fingers. Once the fabric was free from her hold, she collapsed against his chest, and Draco wrapped his arms around her. He would never wish this kind of pain on anyone, much less the witch in his arms. This was a special kind of pain. To have the love of your life leave you in such a traumatic way, leaving you behind with a tiny life to look after on your own? It was the worst pain imaginable. And he'd be damned if he let her go through it alone.