Today was a snow day for me! Meaning, no work AND I was able to finish this chapter. **happy dance**
I hope you enjoy this chapter...it was immensely fun to write ;)
Cuddle up and stay warm, loves! xx
Blaise took the steps two at a time, hurrying up the stairwell to the small flat the Ministry had provided him and Draco two weeks prior.
It was not what either of them had grown up with, the studio was about the size of the in-suite bathrooms they had as children. But, it was theirs.
And it was cozier than the damp cell he'd lived in the past year.
He opened the flat door and was overcome by the aroma of burnt toast.
"Are you trying to cook again, darling?" Blaise called, kicking off his boots. "I thought we decided I was the chef in this relationship."
He entered the small kitchen where Draco was bent over an aged cookbook, squinting at the tiny font, his wand tucked behind his ear.
A mysterious, unidentified liquid was boiling in a pot on the stove. Tendrils of smoke wafted from the toaster where two slices of bread were burning to crisps.
"Giving orders to hired help doesn't make you a chef, dearest," Draco drawled, lifting his gaze from the recipe.
Blaise smirked. "But I'm so good at bossing people around."
He stalked to the stormy-eyed wizard, lifting the book from his hands and tossing it on the marble counter.
"See? I'm ordering you to stop trying to burn the house down." With a wave of his hand, the boiling pot settled to a simmer and the charred crusts of bread vanished.
Blaise cupped Draco's chin, rubbing a thumb against his jaw. "I missed you."
"You were gone for three hours," Draco huffed as Blaise plucked the wand from behind the blonde's ear and set it gently beside the recipe book.
"It felt like an eternity," Blaise murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against Draco's mouth.
It was true. He despised being away from the other man. Something inside him, something small and raw and vulnerable, shivered.
The last nine months had been torture. Not because of the soul-sucking guards or the less-than-edible meal supplements. No, the cruelest form of punishment the Ministry could have sentenced him was erecting an impenetrable stone wall between himself and Draco. A single barrier had never been more isolating. He had existed knowing he was mere feet from Draco, yet he wasn't able to see him, touch him, hear his voice.
Except his screams.
Blaise deepened the kiss, dragging his hand to the nape of Draco's neck, weaving his fingers through white-blonde hair. Draco responded with a groan, closing the distance between them, kissing him back with long sweeps of his tongue. Blaise's body heated, all of his clothes suddenly felt extraneous.
"I was attempting to make us a romantic dinner," Draco mumbled against his mouth.
"I'm not hungry for food," Blaise replied, nipping at his lip.
He knew there were matters to be discussed, one of them being the curly-haired viper who had mauled him just half an hour previous, but Draco was here. Warm-blooded and alive in his arms. He would sooner fall onto Hermione Granger's knife than extinguish the yearning in his bones for this man, his man.
And it had been a long nine months.
"You say that now," Draco moaned, tipping his head back. Blaise latched himself onto the outstretched neck, licking and biting at the vein pulsing to the beat of his racing heart.
"But," Draco's breath hitched. "You're an awful git when you're hungry, I'm trying to diffuse the situation."
"We'll order something later," Blaise deflected, lifting Draco's shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.
Blaise dropped to his knees and unbuckled the belt before him. With a swift pull, he yanked Draco's jeans down to his ankles.
Draco's was a body that was meant to be seen, venerated, idolized. He was a god, carved from stone, created for worship.
From his position on the floor, Blaise looked up at the man before him, at the scars and lines of lean muscle, the silver trail of hair leading down into black boxer briefs. Blaise hooked a finger into the elastic waistband and gently pulled the material down to Draco's thighs.
A thick, pink cock sprang to life, bouncing before his gaze.
Blaise's mouth watered.
He was burning, his skin hot and tight with arousal. The bulge in his jeans pushed against his zipper, begging to be unleashed.
Even when they had been in that awkward stage between boyhood and maturity, Draco had the ability to make Blaise lose his grip on reality. With a single lift of his brow or tilt of the lips, Draco made every drop of blood in Blaise's body rush to his groin.
"I need you," he rasped, licking his lips. "I need to taste you. I need you in my mouth."
Draco's eyes burned beneath hooded lids. He nodded soundlessly, giving Blaise's shaved head a gentle caress."Take me."
Blaise pressed a kiss to the puckered scar carved against Draco's abdomen, then licked down to his belly button, dipping his tongue into the shallow crevice. Reverently, he grabbed Draco's cock in his palm, giving it a long stroke and placing an open-mouth kissed on its weeping head.
"You're so beautiful," Draco murmured, cradling Blaise's head, his eyes black with lust as he watched him lick and suck on his throbbing erection.
Blaise hummed against him, fingers moving to cup his balls.
Draco lurched, arching his cock deeper into Blaise's throat. He gripped the counter, knuckles white.
He relaxed his throat and took him deeper, saliva dripping from his lips and lubricating Draco's thickening length.
An inch and then another. Blaise opened his mouth wider. Merlin, this man was huge.
And he was his.
He wanted to unravel him, destroy him, take him to the edge and throw him over, then jump in after him.
Draco groaned as he relaxed his throat, his lips brushing against his pelvis. He held himself there, Draco's hands on his head, holding him tenderly.
When he pulled back, Draco's glistening cock left his lips with a hollowed pop. Suddenly, he was pushed to his back on the tiled floor beneath them, Draco falling to his knees before him.
His eyes burned with intent as he deftly removed the briefs from his thighs and made his way up Blaise's body. His fingers moved to Blaise's waist, unfastening his jeans and pulling them from his legs. When they were off, Draco ran his hands up and behind Blaise's thighs, tucking his hands beneath his briefs and cupping his bare ass. Draco kneaded into his flesh.
"I'm going to bury myself inside you," he vowed, his voice husky with lust.
Blaise swallowed thickly, nodding his head. Yes.
He pulled his underwear off, unveiling his arousal. It bobbed, falling hard against his abdomen. Draco licked his lips, lifting Blaise's legs up and over his shoulders. He bent down and a flare of pleasure shot through his core as Draco tasted him, running his tongue over his asshole.
Blaise groaned, his head falling against the tiled floor as Draco laved at him. When he slipped a finger inside him, a fire ignited in his lower belly, spreading hot and fast through his veins.
Blaise reached for Draco, his fingers clutching at his silky hair.
"Fuck me. Right now."
Draco smiled between his legs. "So bossy."
His breath was hot against him.
Another sweep of his tongue and a second finger entered him.
Blaise clenched, crying out. His cock twitched against his stomach.
"You fucking snake," he hissed. Draco responded with a flick of his tongue.
"I just want to make sure you can take me," he whispered, nipping at his buttocks. "It's been awhile."
"You know I can take it," he bit out, yanking on the other man's hair.
If he wasn't desperate for the wanker to shut up and fuck him, he would have been insulted.
Draco slipped his fingers out of him and released his knees.
He crawled up his body, kissing and licking his way up to his mouth.
"You're really here," Draco whispered against his lips, resting his hands on Blaise knees, spreading him wider.
"So are you," he replied, brushing their noses together. He kissed him, their tongues dancing in hot strokes.
Draco reached between them, rubbing his width against Blaise's rim. Draco felt impossibly large against. He shivered in anticipation.
He lifted Blaise's knees and with a thrust, entered him. He moaned, reaching his hands around their entwined bodies to dig his nails into Draco's ass.
Storm-cloud eyes found his. Draco stilled inside him.
Are you okay?
Blaise suppressed an eye-roll. "Deeper, you oaf. I can take it."
Draco breathed a laugh, pressing a kiss against his neck as he rocked into him fully, to the hilt.
His vision went white.
There weren't words to describe how full he felt.
Draco pulled and pushed, slow at first, then fast and steady. His hands gripped Blaise's knees to keep himself balanced as he crashed into him like a cresting wave.
"Fuck," Draco moaned, his hair falling into his eyes. "I've missed this."
Blaise's mouth opened in a silent cry, craving something-anything- between his lips, on his tongue. As if reading his mind, Draco slipped his calloused thumb into Blaise's mouth and he bit down.
He couldn't speak, couldn't think. All he could feel was the fullness of Draco's cock inside him, pushing him towards the plummet. He was so close to falling.
"You're so fucking tight," Draco groaned, a sheen of sweat covering his muscled chest.
Blaise wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking himself in time to Draco's thrusts. His balls tightened, a pressure building inside him, rising into his throat.
"I'm going to come," Blaise breathed.
Draco leaned forward, lowering his face and body to place both hands on either side of his shoulders. Blaise shifted, wrapping his legs around Draco's glutes. The position stretched him even further. He choked on a moan.
Draco continued his pace, rutting him hard and fast. Blaise squeezed his cock, staring up into Draco's face.
He fell apart, exploding at the seams in bursts of hot seed.
Draco cried out and with a final thrust, buried himself to the hilt inside him, releasing his essence. Blaise clung to him, running his hands up his back and into his hair.
When their breathing finally slowed, Draco gently lifted off of him and fell to the tile with a soft grunt.
Semen sparkled against Blaise's abdomen, twinkling in the low light of the kitchen. Draco scooped a drop onto his finger, lazily sucking the cream into his mouth.
A low rumble echoed through the space: Blaise's stomach betraying him.
Draco chuckled. "Hungry?" He purred.
Blaise smirked, summoning a delivery menu from the fridge.
"Wanker," he muttered.
Later, they lay in bed surrounded by empty take-out containers. Blaise sat bare-chested, a pillow perched behind his back, chewing on an egg-roll.
Draco slurped a noodle into his mouth. "So," he began. "How'd it go with Granger?"
He swallowed down the last bite and licked his fingers. "Let's just say the lioness has claws. The witch came at me with a knife."
Draco sat up, dropping the container of cold chow-mien. He grabbed Blaise's arm, scanning the four jagged scratches carved there.
"She did this?" He growled, eyes searching Blaise's bare chest, looking for other marks.
When his gaze found the scab on his neck where Granger had held her knife to him, Draco's face clouded over with a simmering rage.
"She's harmless," he appeased, sitting up in bed.
"Obviously not," Draco snarled. He loosened his grip, carefully rubbing his thumb beneath the marks. A warmth emanated from his palm. "Let me heal you."
"It's okay," Blaise said, reaching for Draco's hand and halting the process.
With a furrowed brow, Draco dropped his hands to his lap. "You want to keep them. Why?"
He struggled with his answer.
There was a small part of him that liked what Granger had done; he wanted to wear the marks she'd left on him to remind himself of who she was, lest he forget: a hellion.
When he and Draco had discussed their first move, they had decided Blaise would be the first one to approach her. For multiple reasons, the biggest one being that she and Draco had a strained relationship, to say the least, while she and Blaise barely knew each other. They just wanted a sense of who she was, her routine and habits.
Over the last week they had been finding out little bits about her: where she lived- she still had the wretched feline- what she did during the day. And the night. She was enrolled in university, they had learned. And she dated. A lot.
This surprised him. Although, he hadn't had much interaction with Granger when they were students, save for the times she and Draco had spat at one another like cats. What Blaise knew of her was limited to the stories spun by his two-faced bigoted peers, who despised her for her intelligence and blood status, the Daily Prophet, but even he knew the journalists weren't reliable and the memories Draco held of her. Most of which were tainted by Lucius' insistence that Draco best the muggle-born in each of their classes.
After seeing how Granger had responded to him, a near stranger, he was glad he had approached her first. He shivered to think what she would have done to Draco.
The woman was small and fierce. Dangerous.
"She intrigues me," he finally murmured. "When I saw her tonight I was tempted to knock her out, throw her over my shoulder and toss her at Shacklebolt's feet."
Blaise paused, lightly tugging at the small hoop in his left ear. "But, there's something going on there, Draco. I put my hand to her throat and she didn't even flinch. She refuses to use magic even to protect herself." He thought of the way her eyes had burned bright with unbridled ire as she dug her nails into his flesh. His magic had flared, sensing the roar of power rushing through her blood.
"I think she's going to have another blow-out soon. I could feel the magic inside her. It aches for release."
Draco nodded, deep in thought. "We need to move quickly then. We need to find a way for her to trust us."
It was the only way to meet the terms the Ministry and laid before them.
Hermione Granger could not be coerced, manipulated or physically removed from her current residence in the muggle world. Meaning, they couldn't hit her with a Stunning charm and leave her on the Ministry's doorstep.
No harm must come to her. She must return to the Wizarding World of her own volition.
Somehow, impossible as it seemed, he and Draco needed to make Hermione want to return to magic, choose to.
He thought again of the fire in her eyes, the feel of the knife at his throat and the softness of her body beneath him.
"What if we can't bring her back?" he paused. "We need to think of other options, like what we're going to do if we can't complete this task."
Draco's eyes shuttered, his storm-grey gaze becoming distant and guarded.
"That's not an option."
A flare of panic lodged itself in his throat.
Blaise had seen this expression before: Draco's ability to throw up an impenetrable mental shield to protect his innermost thoughts. It was what kept the most secret and cherished parts of him alive in Azkaban.
He had seen that look directed towards his parents, towards his aunt and the other Death Eaters.
He'd seen him direct it towards Voldemort.
But, never him.
Draco wasn't afraid, he was never afraid. And although the prospect of returning to Azkaban wasn't exactly thrilling, they had survived the first nine months.
They could survive it again.
Right?
He looked at Draco, the silver of his hair glinting in the low light. He had chosen to keep it long after they were released, opting to have the sides near his ears shaved close to his scalp. It was incredibly sexy.
He lifted his hand to Draco's face, lightly brushing the hair off his forehead.
"What are you thinking about?" He whispered.
Draco's eyes softened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "See for yourself."
Blaise fingers stilled against his brow. As a skilled Legilimens, he was careful not to intrude into Draco's mind. After all these years, he didn't need his gift to tell him what Draco was thinking. He knew the man's thoughts as well as he knew his own.
He looked into his eyes and with a single breath slipped into Draco's thoughts, letting him lead the way.
A flash of their time in the kitchen came to him: Blaise laid out on the floor, Draco pushing in and out as Blaise he his head against the tile. His cock twitched at the memory.
They pulled out of the sequence and Draco led him to a blueprint of an emerging thought; before his eyes, strings were being connected, strategies drawn.
A plan. Their next move.
Blaise smirked.
Hermione Granger, he thought, we're coming for you.