It's just past 10 when I wake up the next day. Apparently, I still needed to catch up. The bed next to me is empty, but still warm, and I can hear the shower running in the bathroom. I'm out of bed and stalking towards the sound before I have even opened my eyes properly.

From the doorway, I watch him standing under the water. He hasn't noticed me, so I get the opportunity to observe him completely relax. He has his hands splayed against the wall in front of him, the water running over his hair, down his back and dripping from his arse. The lines of his body, the way the muscle moves under that pale skin as he shifts, is hypnotic.

As I watch, he raises one hand and it snakes down his front. His head tips back a little and he lets out a breathy sigh as he loosely grasps his stiff shaft. The sight of him touching himself is too much, and I quickly cross the room and pull the door open. He gasps, his hand flying away from himself as he turns towards me.

'Oh, please,' I say as I step in and close the door behind me. 'Don't stop on my account.'

'I - '

'I said, don't stop.' My tone is suddenly commanding, my voice dark, husky. His eyes are fixed on mine, challenging, but he obeys, his fingers wrapping around his length once more. I look down to watch him stroke himself, and when I lift my eyes again he whimpers quietly at whatever he sees in my gaze. I see him shiver as I murmur, 'Good boy.'

His hand starts moving faster, but it's almost too fast, like he's purposefully trying to be done quickly. I tut, and reach down to knock his hand away.

'That won't do at all.' I back him up against the stone tiles, and my fingers replace his. He gasps as I grip him, his knees already trembling as I hold his gaze while I slowly work him. 'Merlin, I want to do all manner of filthy things to you. Just look at what you do to me.'

His eyes drop to my hips, and he bites into his lower lip as he takes in my prominent erection. I begin to stroke him faster, then step forward and press my cock to his. My hand is big enough that I can take a comfortable grasp on both of our shafts, and he hisses as I squeeze them together, bending my knees slightly so that our wet heads rub against one another as I pump us at the same time. My empty hand comes up to slam against the wall next to his head, and he looks up at me again, wide eyed. Doe-eyed. Fuck.

'You're fucking intoxicating,' I breathe, my eyes fixed on his as I rub us faster. 'You look so innocent. But you're not, are you?' He just stares at me, and I stop moving my hand. He whimpers and tries to thrust against me, but I move just far enough away without letting go to stop it having any effect. 'I asked you a question, Love.'

'No! Fuck, no, I'm not innocent at all!' The words tumble from him, tinged with desperation, and he lets out a delicious little cry as I begin to move again, my calluses scraping against the soft skin of his cock. He scrabbles at the wall, as if trying to hold himself up. 'Please ... '

I let out a dark chuckle at his obvious need, and increase the pace again, holding us tighter together. 'You're just a desperate little slut for my cock, aren't you?'

'Oh my Gods, yes. Weasley, please, I need to cum, please let me cum.' His gaze is a little glazed now, and I feel myself throb against him at that look. He whimpers at the sensation, his silver eyes rolling back into his head, his legs shaking.

'Now who's get the dirty mouth?' I chastise, but it's getting harder to tease him. With each twitch of his body, each time he makes eye contact, it's driving me closer to the edge. The water falling down on us is making my hand slick around us, and the feeling is almost too much to bear. 'You cum with me, OK?' He nods, and reaches out to grasp my hips, pulling me closer. My knuckles graze his stomach as I pump my fist hard and fast, and he rolls against me, his eyes locked on mine. I feel the band of my release tighten, heat floods my body, and I growl, 'Say my name when you cum, Draco. Show me the good boy you are. Cum for me, Love.'

He lets out a strangled grunt that is definitely tangled around my first name as he spills over my hand, up my stomach, onto his chest. The sight of his head falling back in ecstacy, the sound of my name on his lips in this moment, finishes my. The tether snaps, and I'm cumming, spurting against his abdomen again and again.

A snarl rips from my chest as I continue my motions, until I can't see straight and may genuinely collapse if I don't stop. I release us and fall forward, leaning against him, against the wall. He's trembling in my arms, and I'm worried that I've upset him again. But before I can pull away, he's nipping at my shoulder, and I can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them against my throat.

'Gods, I could have you do that all day,' he breathes, and I laugh as I straighten up to look down at him. He grins, and the sight is so charming that I immediately duck my head and press my lips to his. The kiss begins slow and sweet, but the lust boils in me when he pulls my hips against his once more. I sink into him, my tongue prying open his lips, and he meets me there for a moment before he gently pushes me away, smirking.

'Don't get too carried away, Weasley. We've got to be leaving for Rita's soon.'

'But you just said - '

'Oh, I know what I said, Love,' he drawls, and I feel my body respond to the first affectionate moniker I've heard from him. 'But we can't let the girl down. Besides,' he grins, stretching up on tiptoe to nip at my lower lip before breaking away to stand under the shower stream, pulling me with him. 'If I wear you out now, you'll get bored of me.'

'Never,' I growl, and bite into his shoulder as he starts to soap down my chest.

We just about make it out of the shower without further distractions, and dress quickly to avoid the lure of falling back into bed for the afternoon. I follow him from his flat, and we step out onto the street together, keeping a carefully measured distance between us as we walk, side by side, towards Rita's Cafe. My hand in my pocket itches fiercely to reach out and grasp his, twine his fingers through mine, and in that moment I'm willing to stare down anyone who would dare look at us twice, if it just means that I could touch him.

But I don't. I have people who need to hear this from me, first, and I owe myself that. And him. It would be unfair to put him in that situation, knowing that he's out and I'm not. If the thought makes me nervous, I can only imagine what it would do to him. No, better to wait, better to feel confident in our position before I risk ruining it all for a selfish desire.

We make it to Rita's on time, and she grins and winks at us, indicating that she'll be right over. We find our usual table, and I lower myself into the chair across from his. I coo at Rita as she sweeps past, depositing a pot of tea and two mugs between us, but before I can move he's pouring, adding sugar and milk and pushing my cup towards me.

'Thanks.' I slump in my chair a little and stretch my long legs either side of his, mug in hand, groaning softly as the little-used muscles in my back and pelvis ache slightly. When I look up again, I find that he's eyeing my carefully, considering. 'What?'

'I think you're dominant.' I nearly spit out my tea. I stare around us, wide eyed, trying to decide if anyone is listening. It doesn't appear that way, but I'm still bristling as I round on him. His bloody self-satisfied smirk doesn't help my temper.

'You can't say things like that in public, Draco,' I hiss, leaning across the table and frowning at him.

'Oh, no-ones listening,' he sighs exasperatedly, but he leans forward and lowers his voice. 'Honestly, for some of the filth that's come out of your mouth in the last week or so, I can't believe you're such a prude.'

'It's just not poilte, OK?' I growl through clenched teeth, glowering at him. He rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort, but Rita interrupts us.

'And what are you two whispering about?' We lean back to let her slide our plates onto the table, and I hold his gaze as I lift my mug to my mouth again.

'We were just discussing whether Ronald here is dominant in the bedroom.'

I do choke on my tea this time, so hard that it comes out of my nose. I'm coughing and spluttering as Rita cackles, and she hands me a tea towel to wipe myself down with.

'He's a bit clumsy for that kind of control, don't you think?' I gape at her words, my ears burning. I can't believe they're actually discussing this, discussing me, just casually, out in the open like this.

'Maybe so, but look at his hands, his shoulders. The potential power there ... '

'Ooh, you know, you might be right!' They're both oggling me like schoolgirls over a crush, and I huff at them as I hand Rita her towel back. They both laugh, and she bustles off again. I lean towards him once more as he picks up his food.

'You'll pay for that one, Malfoy,' I snarl.

'Oh, I intend to,' he replies happily, and bites into his pasty.

Over the next couple of weeks we see each other as often as we can, but we're on close shift changes and we only get an hour, maybe two together on each occasion. It's enough time to make sure he's well and truly fucked, and that when I leave him he's walking a little sideways and dazed. On every occasion I make sure that we both finish, that we're both satisfied, but I'm craving more. I don't get the time I want, to just enjoy his body, to show him how much I'm enjoying it.

We still have lunch at Rita's every Monday, which is a nice way to break up my week as most of it is just catching up on paperwork at the moment. But it also serves as a bloody infuriating tease.

Watching him across the table as he puts food, cutlery, even his mug between those lips, or the way he shifts slightly in his chair to get more comfortable, like he's avoiding certain positions, just reminds me of the things I've done to his body, the things he's done to me with that body, and by the time we get up to leave I'm always about ready to leap across the table and tear his clothes off right there.

But I don't. Instead, I tease back, delighting in the way his eyes darken as I lick my own lips, or when I stretch my back and shoulders as if I'm aching from recent exercise. He glowers at me when I chew my lip, and has to look away when I place my large, freckled hands between us on the table. Almost as though he's trying not to remember how my fingers feel on him, in him.

So we're both itching and on edge by the time the next available Saturday comes. I plan to stay with him the whole weekend, as finally our shifts have alligned to allow it. During the day I play in the next round of the Quidditch Cup. We win, of course, but I make my excuses to the team, telling them I can't join them for drinks as I've still got an awful lot of paperwork to catch up on. Not exactly a lie, but certainly not how I'm planning to spend my evening.

My family had also come to see us, as promised, and they all head back to the Burrow afterwards. They also accept my excuses well enough, but I know that if we continue to win then it'll get harder to dodge them. It might mean introducing everyone soon, a slightly scary prospect as it also means I'll have to come out to my family. But for right now, I don't want to worry about that. I just want to enjoy the rest of the weekend with him.

I Apparate straight from the Quidditch grounds to the Ministry and use the Phone Box entrance to put me out as close to his as possible. I march through the streets and practically run up the stairs to his flat, all tiredness from the match forgotten. I pause outside his door to catch my breath, running my fingers through my red hair, then as I've started to do over the last week or so I let myself in with the spell he taught me for his front door. The door clicks shut behind me, and I walk into the front room.

Empty.

'Draco?'

'In the bedroom,' he calls, and I grin as I head down the hallway, excited that he's just as eager, as in need as I am. When I get to the doorway, though, I falter.

He's standing by the bed, completely naked. His white hair is a little damp from a recent shower, and falls across his silver eyes, which are already flashing with lust. But there's that usual smirk on his lips, and he has one eyebrow raised as he watches me taking him in. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and I can't stop my eyes from dipping lower. He's already rock hard. I swallow thickly, and force myself to look back at his face.

'Like what you see?' His voice is a little husky, and I can hear that he's struggling to control himself.

'Very much so,' I rumble from deep in my chest, stepping forward and wrapping a hand around his hip. He steps closer, too, and snakes his arms around my waist, looking up at me.

'Then do what you want to me.'

'I thought that's what we had been doing?' I lower my head to his neck and kiss his throat, and the little sound he makes causes me to pull him tighter against me.

'Yes, but this time, I want you to tie me up.' I lift my head and blink down at him. He grins, and gestures towards the bed with his head. I look over his shoulder and notice a pair of black, satin straps have been tied to either side of the headboard. I meet his eyes again, knowing he can feel my body responding to the idea.

'Are you sure?'

'Oh yes, Weasley, I'm sure. It's something I've wanted to try for a while, as well. I've just never had a partner that I could ask to do this with me before.' My anger flares again at his words, at more insight into how his other lovers treated him, but his slender fingers cup my jaw, and I push it away, bringing my focus back to him. I can right that wrong, I can give him what he needs.

'I'm worried that I'll be a little ... rough. I don't know how to control myself in this situation.' His expression softens, and he raises one hand to rest on my arm, tracing the scars and divets that remain from my fight with the brains in the Department of Mysteries. It's a habit he's picked up, something he now does automatically whenever one of us shares a concern. We both seem to find it soothing.

'I trust you,' he murmurs. 'You'll know if you need to stop. But I'll tell you, if I need to.' His grip on my arm tightens, and his eyes darken. 'You said you'd make me pay, Weasley. So, make me pay.'