Chapter 2
JUNE 2003
The large windows that overlooked the city skyline were tinted so dark that you could fuck against them and no one walking on the road down below would even see you. Theo had the place looking like a derelict old auto repair shop on the outside as much as possible. Downstairs was an operating automotive shop, but Theo had added a lot of security upgrades on the interior of the building including his private entrance. The upstairs apartment had stylish furnishings to suit his lover, as Cedric was super posh, as Narcissa would have said had she ever met him.
Now, Death had taken the closest person to a mother Theo had ever had on this earth. His own mother had run away when he was eight, leaving him behind with a father who preferred to cause pain. Narcissa, however, had been there for him with an ear all his life, not a shoulder to cry on though - she would have been appalled.
He already missed her. Fuck cancer.
Theo wished that she'd been killed by someone in particular so he could go put a bullet in their guts and then slowly peel the skin off their body. But cancer? Who the fuck was Theo supposed to kill? The CEOs of all the major polluters in Southern California? He wasn't going to lie to himself, he had considered it.
He could still do it. There was nothing but time in the future - until there wasn't.
Cedric's back muscles flexed as he played the piano on the other side of their loft. Well, it was Theo's secret love nest, and he had never brought anyone there but Cedric. Cedric, whose biceps looked delicious as he played a piece he didn't recognize, probably by some 19th century gay French composer. That was the kind of subtlety that was Cedric Diggory's main business - playboy, future politician, son of the Mayor, gay lover of a mob boss.
Cedric kept his private life… private. Theo knew he saw other people, but the society pages presented only an unrepentant bachelor with eyes on no one in particular. He always said, "I'll know when I have met the right person, until then, I am a free agent."
Theo wanted to lick the sweat that was starting to darken Cedric's hair as he played. They had already gone three rounds - with Cedric insisting on cockrings and stimulants, and Theo giving in as he always had. It had gone on for hours, and Theo was sore in muscles that he didn't know existed except for after romps with Cedric.
Cedric had a few bruises that Theo had sucked into his skin all round his cock. As he did so, he realized that he was marking his territory, that anyone else that Cedric was fucking would see and know that someone else had been there, kissing that soft, tanned skin. Cedric didn't have any tattoos, but Theo had managed to mark him tonight, leaving the traces of his mouth on Cedric's perfect skin. Cedric had looked very pleased by it.
It had been another perfect interlude, according to Cedric. He had always wanted to get high first, but the route to being high could be circuitous and the results wildly variable. Once Cedric was feeling a bit altered, only then he was ready to be fucked and filled like the kinky slut he was. Theo liked to pretend to have alot of sexual experience, but it was Cedric who had taught him all his naughty tricks.
Cedric stopped playing and closed the cover over the keys. Theo was a bit sad that his impromptu concert was over, but he feigned indifference as his hooded eyes traced his lover's body.
Theo watched from the bed as Cedric got dressed back into the blue Italian three-piece that matched his eyes. Cedric was Theo's favorite piece of eye candy and the cocky bastard knew it, making sure to give Theo a little show as he dressed.
"So, you want to meet here Saturday night after the funeral?" Cedric asked.
"It's sure to be emotional. I'd like to work out my feelings by spanking your ass red and then filling it up, if that's okay with you." Theo pretended to examine his nails, but was actually admiring said perfect ass as Cedric slowly pulled his pants up.
Turning back around as he pulled on his vest, Cedric agreed, "Sounds perfect. I'll bring some party favors. Keep your suit on until I get here, so I can hold your tie while I call you daddy and ride your cock."
Heading towards the door, Cedric threw one more sultry smile on his way out.
"Fuck," Theo breathed into the empty room. That man was going to be the death of him.
Cedric and he had been friends with benefits for years, neither of them entirely out, and neither interested in feelings and cuddles: it was a perfect arrangement between the two of them. They both got a good hot fuck, and Cedric's public image as the hot bachelor son of a local politician remained pristine.
After Cedric left, Theo dressed and went to his bar. The old dive bar that had once belonged to his father was now a thriving hip club, even on a Sunday night. He parked his Corvette out back, and headed for the front entrance.
The alley behind the club was the one thing that had stayed grimy and unsafe even as the indoors became black, sleek, and sexy. Theo was armed, and walked with the confidence of someone who knew that the scariest thing in the dark was himself.
He clapped Greg on the shoulder as he headed inside, "The suit looks good, Greg."
Greg smiled, "You know you miss the Hawaiian shirts."
Theo patted one of his oldest friends on his broad chest and smiled, "Not in the fucking slightest, my friend. I classed up the place; now you have to be classy too."
"I miss being cheap," Greg muttered, uncomfortably smoothing his suit jacket .
"I promise I'll go get you some truly garish vintage shirts next week and I will even let you wear one to my house."
Theo smiled at Greg, and had to smother laughter. Something about Greg Goyle made him feel sixteen again in a wholesome way. It was utterly incongruous to what their actual relationship was like - the kinds of work he put Greg to, the blood and grime of their true day to day.
"You are a real friend, Nott, truly."
Theo snorted and walked into the bar, discovering Adrian and Blaise sitting at one of the front tables in the VIP section so that they had a bird's eye view of all the girls that came into the club. Blaise was more on the prowl than Adrian, as had been the case since his engagement had gone south the year before last. Blaise had been sure Anahit was the one, but she'd run off with an older man with more money than Blaise. .
Theo wanted to find Blaise a new girl with ties to the family that would understand his work and be a supportive, loyal wife. He had a particular one in mind, but he'd see if there were any sparks at the funeral on Saturday. She was expecting him to arrange something for her future as she was finishing graduate school in a few months, and they had talked about it the last time she'd been out. She had only one request: that the husband he would pick for her wouldn't hit her. Promising her that was easy. Theo would kill Blaise or any other man if they hit a woman under his care.
"Zabini, Pucey, am I paying you to stare at the girls that come in the club?" Theo asked, nodding to Pansy who was already pouring him a glass of his favorite bourbon.
"Nott," Pucey raised his shot glass, "Are you here to drink with us?"
"No," Theo replied, "I'm here to dance the fucking polka."
Blaise snorted, "There's actually a lack of hot pussy here tonight."
Pansy had come around the bar and put Theo's drink in his hand. "You two shouldn't be so picky about what pair of lips you slide your dicks between."
"Pansy, I'm not picky. I just know what I like." Blaise toasted in her direction and knocked back his shot. His black suit had the slightest hint of midnight blue playing off the darkness of his skin.
He was always dressed to impress, even more now since everything had happened.
Looking good was the best revenge, Fleur had told him. Blaise had taken the French woman's advice to heart.
Blaise ran a manicured hand over his face and smiled. "Oh, damn, now there is a piece of ass to chase."
Adrian turned to look, "Damn that hair, curls for fucking days. And look at how tiny her waist is… But not so fast."
"What," Blaise asked, confused, tossing back another shot from the tray in front of him.
"Looks like she came equipped with a date," Pucey replied.
Turning, Theo saw Draco Malfoy walk past Greg, who was looking at him like he had seen a ghost. Draco was accompanied by a beautiful brunette that had to have been the one that Adrian and Blaise were ogling .
He just watched them for a minute. He was surprised they were walking into the Dungeon, but not because Narcissa's funeral was on Saturday. It just seemed like an incredible bit of synchronicity that Draco would show up there. Had he perhaps remembered that their fathers had once owned this bar together once upon a time?
Theo realized that Draco must have known, had to have come here on purpose. Of course Theo knew Draco would be returning for the funeral. In fact, his lawyers had probably told him that Draco had been sent plane tickets, as the confirmation numbers were in his blackberry. He knew Draco would be back, but that he was here, at his bar. That was a surprise. And now he was a man, not the little boy that Theo'd sent to school in the middle of nowhere. His sleeves were rolled up and his skin was pristine, not a mark on that porcelain. Theo's own hands and forearms were covered in ink, while Draco's were well made; he looked fit in his white button down. Sleek Glasses? Those were new - not the thick, and nerdy ones he had been wearing when Theo and Narcissa had put him on a plane to leave LA and Theo's life.
It was like a magnetic pull, so overhelming that Theo didn't even realize he had started to walk across the bar until Draco was close enough to touch. That impossibly white hair was still there, and as Theo drew closer, he saw Draco still had those gray irises he'd thought about over the years.
He'd been twelve when you sent him away, bastard, he was not a baby. Twelve year olds don't change eye color. Although at twelve he might as well have been a baby then. He sure as fuck wasn't a baby or even a kid now. He had Lucius' strong jaw, cheekbones sharp as knives, and that aristocratic nose. He looked like a damn romance novel cover, especially with his hair a little too long falling into his face. And those shoulders... he'd have loved to shove those shoulders down onto his desk, and–
"Oh my God, Theo!" Draco grabbed his hands and then pulled him into a hug. When was the last time someone had dared to hug him? Theo thought he heard one of the girls break a glass behind the bar, and Zabini laughed.
"I haven't seen you in years, are you well? You look great, I've missed you. Oh shite, let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Theodore Nott, we've been friends our whole lives. Hermione and I met at school in Scotland." Draco was grinning, and Theo saw the boy in him, the innocence, the whole reason he sent him to fucking Scotland in the first place. And now he had a fucking accent. It's been eleven years… of course he would have a fucking accent.
Theo had only been willing to pay for Narcissa to visit Draco in Scotland, or London, or for Christmas visits in Paris or Barcelona. Draco was never to come back here.
And yet, here he fucking was. Looking like something Theo would love to completely fucking ruin. Sounding like it, too. He'd love to hear that lovely lilting accent whispering filthy things in his ear.
Theo laughed, "It's good to see you too, Draco. I'm… I'm so sorry about your mom," he added, his throat tight with emotion. "And a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Granger," Theo said, finally giving the petite brunette next to Draco his full attention. When he did that, he thought he was going to stop breathing. Her eyes were like pools of honey, and her brown curls were a little wild, but they just made him want to take them in his fist and force her to look at him the way he'd just seen her looking at Draco.
Shit. Women didn't usually get him fucking wound up like this, but there was something about her that captivated him. God, he wanted to tie them both to his bed and fuck them 'til they forgot their names.
Instead of voicing his desires, Theo gave Draco's girlfriend his most charming smile.
"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances," he commented, straightening his tie and sitting his empty tumbler on the bar. Fleur immediately grabbed it and within seconds put a new neat bourbon back in his hand .
It paid to be the boss.
Theo noticed Draco's girl watching his hands, she surveyed his ink as if she were reading his story, and from the narrowed gaze she gave him, perhaps she was. The bloody black roses often drew attention, but he knew that the FUCK NOTT tattoo on his knuckles was the one that usually got the raised eyebrows. However, her eyes lingered on the crown on his ring finger, and on the evil eye markings, as if she knew the meaning of each one and was cataloging them.
The smile she gave him in return did not reach her eyes. "It's so nice to meet one of Draco's friends. I've heard quite a bit about you."
"Probably all lies," Theo grinned, taking a sip of his drink. "But where are my manners? Pansy, can you get Draco a drink? And, Hermione, right?"
"Malfoy," Pansy beckoned him as she leaned over the bar, her boobs almost spilling out of her black corset top. "It's been a long time, do you remember me?"
"Pans, I said to get the man a drink, not flirt with him." Theo narrowed his eyes at Pansy, who snorted in his direction.
"Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?" Draco leaned against the bar and smiled in earnest surprise. "My god, it's been forever. How are you?"
"Well enough, still following around this fucker. What will it be?" Pansy laughed, putting her chin in her hand and rolling her eyes at Theo.
"Do you have dark beer? Guinness, maybe?"
Draco was a sweet creature, Theo realized, as he stared at the young man who was Lucius and Narcissa mixed together, and yet not the deadly monster that either of his parents had been.
"I do. And what about you Hermione, what can I get you?" Pansy gave the curly haired brunette a once over that would have made Theo blush, if he had been a lesser man.
"Scotch and water, please." Hermione looked self conscious as she glanced at the bartender. She bit her lip, and Theo wanted so badly to do it for her.
"So, did you two ever get married?" Draco asked curiously, "I remember it being discussed before everything, when I went away to school."
Theo choked on his drink, "No, no, we never got married."
"Oh, I'm sorry… is it a sore subject?"
"Not at all, pumpkin," Pansy said, passing Hermione her drink, "the Guinness has to settle so it will be a couple."
"What do I owe you?" Draco started to ask, but Theo quickly interrupted him
"Your money's no good here," he said. "Pansy, make sure Draco and Hermione get whatever they want from the bar. Excuse me, I'm going to go have a smoke."
Theo felt as though electricity was coursing through his veins - perhaps it was just the remains of whatever the pills had been that Cedric had brought over.
Draco was inside his bar. His Draco. Fuck.
Theo took a long pull off the cigarette, and then blew smoke rings to distract himself from the incessant beating of his heart. He felt like he was burning up.
He'd wanted Draco so badly when they were younger, and now Draco was back. He had convinced himself all those years ago that letting Draco go was the right thing to do. It was probably the only good deed that he had ever done.
Theo didn't think he could let him slip through his fingers a second time.
Theo headed up to his office, avoiding the temptation that Draco and his pretty little girlfriend made downstairs. He couldn't move too fast. He needed to set things up, weave his web, and make sure everything fell perfectly into place. If he rushed things, it could all blow up in his face, and he couldn't allow that to happen.
He poured himself another double of bourbon and sat down at his desk. The surveillance camera screens shone brightly in the dim light, and he watched Draco and his girl as they drank. Draco's mood sank several times over the evening, but the pretty little brunette would pull him out of his brooding by dragging him onto the dance floor, making him do a shot with her or simply sitting on his lap and kissing him with the sweetness of adoration.
Theo liked her very much. He especially appreciated the way she treated Draco, her obvious devotion and sensitivity to his moods. And if he could manipulate everything to finally have Draco, why shouldn't he have them both?
Half past two, as the club was being shut down, Theo sat at that bar, nursing yet another bourbon. He ought to be in his office counting the money and dealing with the business bullshit, but he couldn't focus on anything.
Theo looked seriously at Fleur and Pansy, busy tidying up the bar, "I want you to befriend Hermione, and sing my praises. She's from London, so take her around LA, show her a good time."
"You want us to fuck her?" Pansy asked, licking her lips in anticipation. Fleur, her wife of five years, rolled her eyes.
"No Pansy," Fleur kissed her wife on the temple as she put some glasses into one of the multiple dishwashers under the bar, "Theo wants to fuck her. Isn't that right, boss?"
"It is." Theo couldn't get the pair of them out of his brain. He had fucked Cedric only this afternoon, and now he was desperate for complete strangers. "You got her number, didn't you Fleur?"
The French girl smiled knowingly, "Of course I did. I saw the way you were looking at her. I'm not slow on my feet."
Theo nodded, appreciating having minions with initiative. The next job he gave them he'd have to make sure they had a proper outlet for their little blood kink.
"You don't usually go for pussy, is something wrong?" Pansy inquired, sipping her own shot glass, "Are you sick?"
Theo drained his glass staring into the distance. "No."
"Well, this was an illuminating conversation," Pansy snorted and then took the shot, wincing a little at the burn.
"I don't pay you to be illuminated, Pansy; I pay you to kill people and whatever else I think up."
"Fair enough." The raven haired beauty smiled, "You do pay exceptionally well."
