Chapter 1 – two years later
Draco's slender hand moves lightly over the sheet of paper, careful not to smudge the pencil and ruin the sketch he's been working on for the past hour and a half, a sketch born from months of scrupulous and painstakingly thorough research. It will be the first of many, but Draco is a perfectionist, and even early mistakes are best avoided. Early mistakes knock the whole procedure off kilter, and threaten discord in a company in which harmony has come to depend on Draco getting his way.
It's beginning to get dark outside. The shadows lengthen as the late autumn sun dips low in a sky heavy with clouds the colour of lead on pale fingers. The street lights blink a few times, and then start to emit a steady, dim glow. The trees begin to sway in the wind, which brings with it a storm of dry, orange leaves, browning at the edges.
Draco's head remains bowed as he works in the pool of light spilling from his desk lamp.
He hears faint footsteps in the corridor about thirty seconds before the door to his office swings open. Draco turns his head and hides a grimace as he sees Jason Walker leaning against the doorframe, his mouth curling upwards in a cocky smile he undoubtedly thinks is charming.
"Hey man, can I come in?" He's already closing the door behind him. Draco forces himself to smile apologetically.
"I'm actually quite busy right now."
"Yeah, I heard they put you in charge of the winter collection." There's a hint of resentment in his voice, which gives Draco a childish thrill. The proud little monster inside him stores it away for later enjoyment. It can feel the envy radiating from the arrogant little prick in the expensive suit, and it giggles quietly to itself.
Draco knows that Jason wants his job, wants it so much that he's willing to grovel and manipulate and betray. Wants it so much that Draco knows to watch his back.
Draco also knows that that's not all Jason Walker wants from him.
Jason perches on the edge of Draco's desk. One long leg dangles over the edge, and he places his other foot on Draco's chair, the side of his shoe pressing casually against Draco's thigh. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair and flashes that smile again, all straight white teeth and insincerity. Draco doesn't say anything, just looks at him with an expression he hopes is mild and resists the urge to cover his work with his arm, like a schoolboy.
"Well, congratulations. You deserve it."
I know I do, Draco thinks. His references and qualifications may have been faked, but his work over the past two years hasn't been, and he knows he shows more promise than anyone else in the business.
"Although I still don't know why you decided to be a designer. You know, you could be a model."
Draco laughs shortly, and Jamie mistakes his disdain for the tacky chat-up line as self-deprecation. He uses the foot on Draco's chair to swing him round so they're facing one another.
"Seriously! I mean, I don't know if you realise, but you're hot!"
Draco raises an eyebrow, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I know I am. But I don't want to be a model."
Jamie looks surprised for a moment, presumably expecting some attempt at fake modesty, before his smile resurfaces.
"You should at least give it a go. I mean, look at you! Can you imagine the photos? Christ, Alex…" He gives a short, breathless laugh and lowers his voice to a near whisper, leaning a little closer. His eyes rake the length of Draco's body, and Draco feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "I know I'd want to see them."
Suddenly, Draco needs this man out of his office and as far away from him as possible. He's a little more grown up now, and feeling strangers' eyes creep over his body, hearing their honeyed voices drip transparent flatteries, makes him feel more ill than elated. He doesn't care for Jamie Walker's shark smile, with all those white teeth, or for his bright, smug blue eyes, or for the overly familiar foot pressed against his thigh. His false congratulations and the American drawl others seem to find charming, in a dashing sort of way, are starting to grate.
Jamie reaches out a strong hand to touch Draco's cheek, and Draco pulls away from him.
"Jamie, it's getting late, and I really do have a lot to do."
Jamie laughs and slides off the desk, walking behind Draco's chair. Draco stands up and turns to face him.
"You know, all work and no play…Come on, let me take you for a drink."
"I can't. I really should be getting home, anyway. Peter'll be wondering where I've gotten to."
"Oh God, Alex. You're not still dating that jerk, are you?"
Draco glares. He thinks his patience has reached its limit. Jamie sighs.
"Okay, I get it. You're with someone, and we all know what the gossip's like in this place. But, hey, I won't tell if you won't."
"What?" Draco stares at him in disbelief.
"I'm just saying, no one needs to know." He takes a step closer. Draco can smell aftershave and peppermint, and the faintest trace of the cocktail he had with lunch. His voice is a whisper again. "Come on, baby. It'll be our little secret." He places a hand on the back of Draco's neck and starts to pull him forward, and Draco has finally had enough. He's done playing nice. Without meaning to, he feels magic flood his veins, and Jamie flies the short distance to the wall and hits it with a muffled thump.
Jamie leans heavily against the wall, trying to stop himself from falling and looking slightly dazed. He hadn't felt Draco push him, but he must have, and with a force the slight man doesn't look like he has in him.
"Don't touch me."
Jamie opens his mouth to interrupt and Draco cuts him off.
"And don't call me baby. It's Alexander, and one day it'll probably be sir, but it will never be baby. You think the reason I'm turning you down is that I'm worried my partner will find out?" He laughs scornfully. "Even if I were single, you wouldn't stand a chance with me, okay? Because the thought of touching you makes me feel physically sick. Now get out of my office."
Jamie isn't smiling anymore. He's managed to right himself, and has the good grace to look embarrassed.
"Okay, maybe I came on a little strong, but I don't deserve that."
Draco sneers.
"I said get out. Go find one of your sycophant interns and take him to bed, because I don't want you anywhere near me."
Jamie's nostrils flare and he straightens his jacket, shaking with indignation and anger.
"Fine." He opens the door with a flourish and slams it behind him, the noise puncturing the silence of the evening.
Draco sits back down, his hands trembling against his knees.
bdbdbd
Draco pulls into the drive, turns off the headlights and listens to the soothing hum of the engine. He closes his eyes and allows himself time to sit in his own little world and think. His heart is hammering in his chest and there's a knot of panic throbbing hotly in the pit of his stomach. He needs a few minutes to collect himself.
When he opens his eyes, he sees the charcoal smudge of a shadow crossing behind the living room curtains. The light from inside is soft and inviting, and with a deep breath he turns the key in the ignition and steps out of the car.
He hangs his coat in the small entrance and calls Severus' name. Severus appears from the kitchen. He's still wearing the plain white shirt and black trousers he wore to work that day, but he has removed his tie and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. Draco notices his bare feet and grins, feeling reassured now he's back in his own home, where he doesn't have to live the lie he and Severus concocted together, fashioning a life around themselves like a protective shell.
Severus takes in Draco's pale skin and wide eyes with the sharp perceptiveness most people find unnerving, but Draco finds comforting. "What's wrong?"
"I used magic, Sev." He whispers, not trusting his voice not to crack.
"What happened?" Severus brow has creased and his dark eyes bore into Draco's. Draco squirms beneath the intensity of that stare. Severus puts his hands on Draco's shoulders, and the weight Draco has been carrying around since he left work falls away as he realises Severus isn't angry, and that he's going to look after him.
"I don't know, really. I was at work and this guy was being a jerk, and I sort of…pushed him." Draco misreads the look on Severus' face. "I didn't hurt him or anything! And he didn't realise what was happening."
"What guy? What did he do?" Severus feels the first stirrings of anger, and warns himself not to take it out on Draco. For the past two years he has kept his promise not to hit him, and he has no intention of breaking that promise now.
Draco looks slightly confused. Severus seemed to have missed the point.
"Just someone I work with. He…" Draco falters, and breaks their gaze for a moment. "He tried to kiss me, and so I pushed him. I didn't mean to, it just sort of…happened."
"Is it that prick from the Christmas party? The American?"
Draco starts.
"Yes. How did you..?"
"The cocky little bastard couldn't keep his eyes off you, then he tried to follow you when you went to get our coats." He pauses. "We had words."
Draco tries for a look of indignation and disapproval, and doesn't quite manage. Secretly, he likes the jealousy. He likes when they're out together and someone looks at him, and Severus hand tightens around his waist.
"And it looks like we're going to have to have another chat."
"Severus, no. I told him in no uncertain terms where he stood with me. I don't need you to fight my battles, and certainly not if you're going to endanger my career in the process."
Severus looks away, his jaw clenched tightly. Neither of them speaks for a moment.
"What are we going to do, then?"
Severus runs a hand through Draco's hair.
"I don't think we need to worry about it."
"But you said they would be able to trace our magic."
"Yes, but I doubt they can from something so fleeting. And if they do, we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it. Besides, it's been two years, they're probably not even searching that thoroughly anymore."
Draco nods, and offers Severus a small, weary smile.
"Come here." Severus pulls Draco into a hug, moving one of his hands in circles on the small of his back. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I will."
He feels Draco nod against his chest and holds him closer, taking possession of his boy.
He knows he can trust Draco. He knows that the entire time they've been together, no other man has touched him. He knows that he is the only man Draco has ever loved. But still, the jealously unfurling inside him refuses to roll over and go back to sleep. So that night he takes Draco to bed, and he entwines their fingers together and pins his hands down. He fucks him harder than he has done in a long time, leaving bites and kisses which will be bruises by the morning.
The wind whistles outside, and the rain patters softly against the windowpane.
Severus reminds Draco who he belongs to.
bdbdbd
In the dead of night, a man with unruly dark hair and eyes the colour of jade sits bolt upright in his bed. A feeling like electricity jolts through his veins.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stumbles to the fireplace, where he starts to fumble with wood and matches, his wand lying forgotten on the bedside table.
He's wide awake. As the flames roar into being, he laughs aloud to himself. It's a laugh of relief and incredulity and sudden, unexpected joy.
He's found them. After two years if searching, he's finally found them.