(no subject)
You know, I'm finding this to be a bit not fair. It's my birthday, and you're all getting the fic. Ah, well. Maybe you'll like it? *shrugs*
Title: Mending the Break
Author: Krissie
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Pairing: Seamus/Draco
Word count: 4256
Disclaimer: Yeah. So not mine. I don't own the Olympics, either. Or even a pair of skates.
Warnings: Um...hospital sex? There's lots of 'em in here. Let's play "Spot the Fetish!"
A/N: I killed three birds with one fic here, I did. First, it's for jadarene, after her S/D limericks got her hooked on my pairing. XD The Skater!Draco is for orionnoire, because I mentioned it and she told me to write it or die. Not really, but you know. And then, it's for the work fetish thing over at hp_fetish that technically ended like a month ago, but I'm slow and went through a crapload of beta on this to make it presentable. On that note...thank you to shan_chan, orionnoire, and persekore for the beta jobs. Oh, and, as usual, the title sucks horribly.
Also! In response, jadarene limerick'd this! Check it out here!!
-----
Draco smiled to himself as he sped effortlessly around the ice rink, preparing to land his third quad axel of the night. Sure, this was only the warm up for the long program, but it mattered that he land them all tonight. He was skating in the European Championships tonight, and he was favoured to take the gold.
That made him proud. He'd made a name for himself in this world, and not even his own. Nobody in this world knew him past the name he adopted after the war, the name he had taken to avoid his past: Donovan Mabon. He turned, ready to make the jump, when he heard someone call his name. No, not his, not anymore--
"Malfoy! Draco!" the vaguely familiar voice called, somehow heard over the din from the rest of the crowd. It threw the man, though, and he lost his concentration, falling to the ice, a sharp pain shooting up his leg.
"Fuck!" He screamed, not caring who heard. "Shit!" Somehow, he managed to hobble to his feet--okay, make that foot. He knew his ankle was broken. Nothing else could hurt this much.
"Fuck," he said again, this time resigned. There was no way he could skate today, not without outing himself as a wizard. The medics were on the ice, trying to pull him over to the kiss and cry to get the skate off his already swelling ankle. Draco looked around, trying to see who had yelled for him. Most of the faces were unknown to him, just fans of the sport, nameless smiles and signs...but there. In the front row, near the judges booth. He knew that face.
"Come on, then, Donny. We're going to see what's wrong," his coach said softly, squeezing his hand.
"I know what's wrong. My bloody ankle's broke. We're out of the running," he snapped at the man, wincing as his skate was roughly pulled off.
"Maybe it's just sprained. We'll get you a painkiller. Think if you had to skate you could?"
Draco gave the man a look, one that conveyed just how stupid that idea sounded. "My bones are smashed enough already. Nothing could make me cut my career shorter than it already is by skating on this foot, Greg."
"What were you thinking out there? You had it set, and then you just collapsed," Greg chided, Draco's coach before anything else.
"I...I saw someone I used to know. It startled me," he answered softly, hissing when a particularly careless medic twisted his ankle while splinting it.
"Who? I'll get security to bring them here. I'm owed an explanation as to why my star skater's going to spend his shining moment in the ER." The medics had brought in a wheelchair for Draco, but he waved them off, getting to his feet shakily and hobbling to the rink edge.
He was still there. Draco knew that sandy hair. "There," he said, pointing. The man was still there, and Draco placed him now. "Finnigan."
"Finnigan?"
"Bloke I...went to school with." Draco ignored the medics, then carefully stepped onto the ice, seeing how badly his leg hurt, if there was any way he could skate. He cursed loudly, falling on his arse.
There wasn't a way.
Draco watched as security took hold of Seamus, bringing him over to where Greg stood, and smiled slightly as his coach gave the Irishman hell. Slowly, he slid back to the edge of the rink, shaking his head. "Painkillers. Now," he managed to say. "Hospital after."
In an instant, he had been set in the wheelchair, eyes closed, hands tight on the armrests. He could've made it to the Olympics. He could've won the gold. And now, because he had to come back...
"Drac-- Donovan, I'm sorry. Didn't think you'd recognise me," Seamus said softly, hurrying alongside the wheelchair.
"You couldn't have waited until I'd finished the jump?" Draco snapped in return, still not looking at the boy he used to know so well. "Bloody stupid Mick." He knew they were loading him into the ambulance, but he just didn't care. He couldn't skate, what's the worst that could happen now?
"Okay, I deserved that--hey, I'm coming with him!"
Draco made a mental note to never wonder if things could get worse. "You deserve worse for this." The blond finally met Seamus's eyes, his loathing obvious. "I fucking had it, Finnigan! I could have won! You destroyed my chances!"
"I'm sorry, okay?" Seamus sounded like he truly was sorry, but Draco wasn't taking chances.
"So why the hell did you yell for me? And by my name, no less?"
"Because I'd heard rumours. And I missed you."
"Missed me? You're the one who ran off to Ireland and forgot about me!" Draco growled, kicking his uninjured leg at Seamus's shin. "And now you've come back to ruin what I've made for myself. Thank you, Finnigan, ever so fucking much."
"Mr. Mabon, please stay still. Don't jar that break," the paramedic said, placing a hand on his arm.
"I can't do much worse to it," Draco replied, looking down at his leg. "I'll be off the ice for months." He shot a glare at Seamus. "I'm out of the Olympics, and it'll be another season before I'm able to compete again, and even then I'll be less likely to win, because of this fucking break!" He screamed that last part, wanting to cry because everything he'd worked for was gone.
"I told you, I'm sorry, Dra-- Donovan! What more can I do?"
"Get the fuck out of my life again! You didn't have to come back!" I'd just gotten over you.
"I did have to, and you know it as well as I. There's too much..." Seamus waved his arm between them, shrugging. "...too much bad between us. And we're going to talk."
"Not until this leg stops hurting, we're not." And Draco shut his eyes again, refusing to acknowledge the others in the ambulance until they reached the hospital. His mind was racing. He hadn't seen Seamus since just after graduation. That's when the Irishman went back home to his mum, and left Draco behind, not giving a shit that it nearly broke the blond! Draco had been so hurt he'd run to the Muggle world, finding a passion for figure skating. He'd changed his name, cut off all ties to his past life, and he was happy. He was the best.
Two hours later, four more painkillers had finally dulled the aching in his body, and he was propped up in bed, hands pressed against his face as he tried to stop shaking. So close. So close. He had it locked up.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he sighed. "Enter," he said softly, knowing it was Seamus on the other side before the handle turned. "Haven't you done enough to fuck up my life already?"
"That's why I came back. To fix it."
Draco glanced at the 'Call Nurse' button beside his hand. At least he could get some privacy in a hurry if he really wanted Seamus out. "Fix it? How? By breaking my heart again?" The blond fell silent for a moment, shaking his head. "I don't know if I can deal with that."
"So you think you're the only one I hurt?" Seamus scoffed. "You always were a drama whore." The Irishman closed the door and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of Draco's bed. "You don't know how much it hurt me to leave you, Draco."
"I rather think I do know how much it hurt you!" Draco snapped, crossing his arms across his chest.
"How much then?"
"Obviously, not much!"
"You're wrong! It killed me to leave you, Draco! Felt like I'd ripped my heart out!"
"Why did you, then? Why fuck up everything we had going for us by...by just leaving?"
"Because my family needed me. It was an emergency. My father...he was sick. I didn't have time for niceties, beyond telling you why I was going home, and by the time I came back, you'd already left and nobody knew where you'd gone."
"I needed to get away. I couldn't bear to see the...I hated it. I hated how everyone was so fucking happy and I wasn't, okay? I'd already lost everything to my name, and then I lost you. I couldn't stand it."
"So you went Muggle? And not even into obscurity, if you were so bent on not being found..."
Draco shrugged, running his fingers over the edge of his cast. All the way to his knee. He's be in physical therapy for months before he got his leg back to skating form. "You know me. Never could settle for second best."
Seamus was silent for a minute, then stilled Draco's hand with his own. "I'm not second best, you know."
"Gods, how many movies did you watch to come up with that cliché?" the skater said, stifling a laugh.
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy. It's true, and you damn well know that."
Draco nodded. "I know. That's what hurt."
"That you lost the best?"
"That I'd lost you."
Seamus looked over at the door, as if expecting someone to walk in and ruin this moment, then back at Draco. "I didn't want to lose you. But I did. And then, there you were, staring out from the telly, and I had to find you. To apologise for everything." He smiled weakly. "Didn't plan to break your leg in the process."
"Just a lucky bonus?"
The door opened, and a giggling, blushing young nurse stuck her head in. "Mr. Mabon, do you need anything? Something to eat, or another aspirin?" She stopped, looking at the closeness between the two men sitting on the bed, narrowing her eyes, as though she had claim to the injured star. "Or this gentleman to leave you alone?"
"I'd like to have some privacy," Draco growled. "I've had a shitty day, and this man's the reason. He's going to fix it, if he knows what's good for him, and tell the rest of your staff to leave us be, or you can be sure to hear from my lawyer." Then, he smiled slightly at Seamus. "Being famous has its perks," he explained as the nurse hurried to shut the door behind her.
"You don't need to be famous to command that sort of respect. I remember how you could make the entire Order cower in fear when you wanted to," Seamus recalled fondly, squeezing Draco's hand. "But stop changing the subject, will you? I'm trying to win you back."
"Not so hard to do that, Seamus. All you had to do was ask." Draco leaned forward, grunting with the effort of moving his leg out of the way without knocking into Seamus, wrapping his arms around the boy and sighing. "I never could say no to you. Bloody pathetic weakness, it is."
"Blame the Irish charm. It's what everyone else does." Draco laughed slightly.
"Don't think this lets you off for ruining my Olympic dream," he said softly, pressing his lips to the man's neck.
"Think a quick shag would help my case?"
"Subtle, Finnigan, really subtle."
"Does that mean no?"
"It means I'd better be topping, and that I can't move this leg very far until the plaster finishes drying, so you'd better plan on straddling me." Seamus grinned, turning his head to meet Draco's lips softly.
"You so set against our ways I can't cast a charm or two to make sure we're left alone?"
Draco shook his head, smiling wide. "Let them come. Everyone assumes figure skaters are gay anyway, why not prove them right?"
Seamus looked around the small white room, seeing no cameras, only one window, but being on the second floor made that safe, and only the buzzer to alert the staff to any problems..."Oh, what the hell?" he muttered, and pushed Draco back to the bed, kissing him deeply.
Draco lost himself in the kiss, holding tight to Seamus's shoulders. "Tell me how you found me," he asked softly, nipping the tip of the other man's nose. "Tell me why it took you eight years to come back to me."
"Well, originally, it was my family. My father...he died, you know that, and I had to take care of the arrangements and make sure my mother was alright. Nasty legal battles, there... And without him there to work, I had to bring in the money." Seamus stopped, running a hand through Draco's hair, remembering a time when he was the only person who could get away with that. "Odd jobs didn't do it for me; I could barely put enough food on the table to feed us, never mind paying the other bills. Didn't have time for anything else.
"So I started working in the Muggle world. Paid a bit more, and it was easy, with a bit of magic. But I knew I could bring in more than that." Soft fingers touched Seamus's face, and Draco pulled him closer for a hug.
"How'd you do it?"
"Started stealing. It wasn't hard; did enough of it during the war that it's second nature anyway, and you wouldn't believe the money people will pay to have me nick something from a family member." Seamus grinned, pleased with himself and the niche he'd made for himself. "Got really good at it, too. You know, I've even sold things to museums. Nobody questions, and if they did, there's always Obliviate. Never gave up my magic like you. Made it bloody hard to find you."
"Then how did you? Come on, Finnigan, I need to know why you're back."
"Because I never wanted to leave you, I told you! And one night, I saw you on the news, you’d won some competition or other, and I knew it was you. Different name, but I’d know you anywhere. Your hair, your eyes, your arse..." The Irishman let his hands fall to Draco’s trousers, toying with the button as he spoke. "Found out when and where you’d be skating next, and spent far more than I probably should have on the ticket for what amounted to a back row seat. Tried again, and again, and again to get closer, but I never got close enough, not until today, and, well, you know the rest."
"A broken ankle and a snog on a hospital bed," Draco answered, pressing his hips up to meet Seamus's hands, moaning softly. "Hurry it up, would you?"
"Patience is a virtue," Seamus singsonged, and Draco groaned.
"Fucking tease..."
"That's why you love me," Seamus replied cheekily.
Draco paused, looking up at Seamus. "Do you still love me?" Seamus shrugged, and Draco had his answer. "The feeling's returned," he whispered, smiling slightly. "But I might change my mind if you don't do something--anything."
Seamus chuckled, pressing his hand against the bulge in Draco's trousers and rubbing roughly. "There's something," he said amiably, leaning down for another deep kiss.
"What, do I need to give you step-by-step instructions?"
"Might be helpful. It has been a few years, after all," Seamus shot back, grinning madly at Draco's obvious frustration.
"Damn you. Unbutton my trousers, prick." Seamus did so, fingers slipping further under the fabric to tease the wiry hair under the man's briefs. "The zip, too. Gods, you're slow on the uptake."
"Making you work for it, Malfoy. Nothing good was ever easy, you know." Down went Draco's zipper, and so did Seamus's fingers, barely brushing Draco's cock.
"You'd better be worth it. Down with them."
"How far down?" Seamus pulled his trousers down just past his thighs, enough that he had access to the lovely body before him. "That good?" He'd always rather liked fucking with his clothes on. Bit of a kink.
"It's good, Seamus, but please, hurry it up? I'll start begging, and I'm in no mood to beg today," Draco threatened, knowing his words were lost to the Irishman. "Look, get those trousers off, and get ready to be fucked. Easy enough to understand, or should I use smaller words?"
"I understood you perfectly, Malfoy. Sure hope you know what you're getting into." Seamus grinned, sliding down the bed until he was face to face with Draco's underwear, and he mouthed the hard erection pulling the fabric taut, purring softly. "Get those things off while I strip, or you won't be getting my arse anytime soon."
Draco moaned softly, arching against Seamus's mouth desperately...until that hot mouth moved away. "Stop distracting me, and I will," he growled, struggling to free his erection without moving his leg too much. This would be interesting, he decided. He'd never had to keep his legs still without being tied down before. But he really didn't need to hurt his leg further. The sooner it healed, the sooner he could do this again.
Oh, and skate. The sooner he could start skating again, and he'd win the next Olympics, and he'd have the gold, and--
Seamus's trousers were off, and he was stroking himself lightly. Draco remembered the last time he'd been in this position, face to face with the Irishman's groin. It was the night before Seamus had left him. But it had been bittersweet, much unlike this feeling now, this feeling of pure desire and desperation. Unfortunately, Draco was in no mood to see if he tasted the same. He needed Seamus, right now.
"Our way, or the Muggle way?" Seamus asked breathlessly, already reaching for his wand.
"Just do it, Finnigan," Draco growled, and Seamus whispered the same spell he'd always used, sliding two fingers into himself to prepare himself for Draco. "No, no, no. That's my job," the injured man added, gripping Seamus's hips as he pulled him closer, sliding his own fingers inside his opening, leaning up for a kiss.
This was familiar territory; Seamus tasted the same as he always did, with maybe just a hint of alcohol that hadn't been there before. He must have had a drink recently, Draco decided, tongue searching out the deepest parts of the man's mouth.
Seamus moaned, and Draco added another finger. He couldn't wait much longer, and judging by the sounds Seamus was making, he couldn't wait, either. So he pulled his fingers out, ready for more, if Seamus was.
"Ready for me?" he asked, and the Irishman nodded, legs spread, arse hovering above Draco's cock for just a moment before he sank down slowly, adjusting to the feeling of being so full. "Oh, fuck," Draco swore softly, sliding his hands under Seamus's shirt, touching the hard muscles almost reverently.
"That would be the general idea," Seamus teased him, beginning to rock his hips slowly.
Draco’s hands gripped the man’s waist, setting a faster pace for their movements. "General idea a little bit harder," he ordered, "Before I do it myself."
"And we can’t have the ice prince working hard for anything, can we?"
"Do you really want me to shove you off the bed?"
"Want me to fall for you like you did for me out on the ice, then?"
Draco scowled slightly. "Prick."
"Oh, shut it and let’s get on with it." Seamus sat up slightly, forcing Draco deeper inside his arse, moaning softly. "I'm going to regret those eight years apart, aren't I?" he breathed, leaning back. His hand bumped something hard: Draco's cast. He'd almost forgotten. He began to move a little slower, wary of hurting the man in any way.
"You'd better regret it, and spend the next eight repenting," Draco shot back, his words slightly garbled by a moan. Seamus was hot and tight, and so familiar. He gripped the man's erection tightly, matching each stroke over his own cock with a twist of his hand on Seamus's.
The two men moved together slowly, desperately, needily, remembering so much and learning each other all over again. Words of love were whispered softly, gentle hands warm on sweat-soaked skin.
Draco came first; the emotions of the day filling him up before he spilled inside Seamus, gasping his name. Seamus followed soon after, covering Draco's hand with semen, and no doubt dripping on his shirt.
For a moment, it was awkward; Seamus was sure he wanted to curl up in Draco's arms, but what if Draco had just wanted the sex and nothing more? Or pushed him away? Seamus didn't want that rejection.
His worries were put to rest, however, when Draco pulled him close, cheek to cheek, as they caught their breath.
"Great," Draco said, once he could speak again, Seamus laying on top of him, nuzzling his neck. "Now my hand and my leg itch. Damn cast."
"At least you had fun making one of those itch," the Irishman rationalised, and Draco snorted.
"Don't be such a twat. Both of them are your fault."
"I'll make it better. Just tell me how." Seamus looked up, brushing Draco's hair from his forehead.
Draco smiled slightly. "I'll think of a proper punishment later. Right now, you'd best clean us up before Greg comes back to check on me. They must've picked the team by now..."
"I really didn't mean it, you know. I'd've been so proud if you'd made it in."
"If?" Draco scoffed. "You hold so little faith in me."
"Right, right, when you'd made the team," Seamus agreed, rolling his eyes. "Egotistical brat."
"But every word of it's true. I'd have been the best shot for gold if I weren't here right now." Draco sighed, looking melancholy. He really had wanted to win.
"Hey, none of that. There's always next time." Seamus pressed a soft kiss to Draco's forehead, then whispered the spell to clean them both. "I'm not sure I'd have been willing to let you go so soon anyway. I've just got you back."
"Oh, I'll be making it to the next Olympics, don't doubt that. And I'll take the gold, too. Should my scores not be as high as they might be, I expect you to lodge formal complaints by way of making the judges score me higher." Draco grinned, and Seamus smiled weakly.
"Slytherin to the core still, aren't you? Wanting me to cheat if you happen to do less than perfect..."
Draco swatted the man's arm lightly. "Shut it. I only meant that should I not get brilliant scores I expect you to make it so. It's not cheating, it's tweaking the results to where they should be. Now put your trousers back on before someone decides to come in. Gods know that little nurse is probably standing outside the door, listening to what we're getting up to as it is." The sudden thump from the other side of the door seemed to support his point, and Seamus laughed softly, kissing Draco deeply once again before pulling away to begin dressing himself.
"That mean you want me to go? So you and...what's his name, Greg? So you and he can talk?"
Draco paused a moment, then struggled to pull his pants up and make himself look presentable again. "Stay. We're...well, we're together now, aren't we?" Or did I just misread sympathy?
Seamus broke out in a huge smile, then moved in close for a deep, relieved kiss. "I think we could be together. Though it wasn't exactly my intention for it to work out this way. Really, I just wanted to clear the air and then let you live your life."
"I'd rather live it with you than without. Now, do I look decent?" Draco ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down, though it still looked mussed.
"A Greek God, you are," Seamus said, bowing low. "Were I but worthy to stand in your presence."
"Prick." Draco simply said, and he opened his mouth to continue, but the door opened then, and Greg walked in.
"Well, you would've beat everyone else, hands down, Don," he said, barely glancing at Seamus as he walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed, "But Lyall took your spot." Greg stopped, looking at the Irishman, who had inched his way toward the door. "What are you still doing here? Donny, you want him out?"
"Greg, stop. We...worked out our differences." Draco smiled at Seamus, whose expression softened in response.
Greg looked between the two, understanding dawning. "Oh. Oh." An awkward silence followed. "Right, then. Should I leave you two...?"
"That won't be necessary. Dra--ah, sorry, Donovan, I'll just leave my number? So you can call me when you've got a free moment. No doubt you and your coach are waiting for me to leave so you can curse my name, right?" Seamus smiled winningly, backing out of the room slowly.
"Hey--I love you, yeah?"
Seamus paused, then nodded. "Feeling's mutual. Call me when you're feeling a bit better."
And with that, he left, Draco smiling after him.
"Love him?" Greg's words cut through Draco's thoughts, and the man in question nodded.
"Never stopped. You okay with it?"
"Just don't let it get in the way of your recovery or career. And next season, if you miss so much as one practice, so help me I'll make sure you regret it."
Draco laughed. "Seamus won't let me miss. He'll be too proud when I beat the pants off the competition." He sat up straighter, looking at his coach intently. He was ready for Seamus to begin pampering him. "So, uh...I'm feeling better. Did you want to curse Seamus's name a while more, or can I call him now?"
Title: Mending the Break
Author: Krissie
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Pairing: Seamus/Draco
Word count: 4256
Disclaimer: Yeah. So not mine. I don't own the Olympics, either. Or even a pair of skates.
Warnings: Um...hospital sex? There's lots of 'em in here. Let's play "Spot the Fetish!"
A/N: I killed three birds with one fic here, I did. First, it's for jadarene, after her S/D limericks got her hooked on my pairing. XD The Skater!Draco is for orionnoire, because I mentioned it and she told me to write it or die. Not really, but you know. And then, it's for the work fetish thing over at hp_fetish that technically ended like a month ago, but I'm slow and went through a crapload of beta on this to make it presentable. On that note...thank you to shan_chan, orionnoire, and persekore for the beta jobs. Oh, and, as usual, the title sucks horribly.
Also! In response, jadarene limerick'd this! Check it out here!!
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Draco smiled to himself as he sped effortlessly around the ice rink, preparing to land his third quad axel of the night. Sure, this was only the warm up for the long program, but it mattered that he land them all tonight. He was skating in the European Championships tonight, and he was favoured to take the gold.
That made him proud. He'd made a name for himself in this world, and not even his own. Nobody in this world knew him past the name he adopted after the war, the name he had taken to avoid his past: Donovan Mabon. He turned, ready to make the jump, when he heard someone call his name. No, not his, not anymore--
"Malfoy! Draco!" the vaguely familiar voice called, somehow heard over the din from the rest of the crowd. It threw the man, though, and he lost his concentration, falling to the ice, a sharp pain shooting up his leg.
"Fuck!" He screamed, not caring who heard. "Shit!" Somehow, he managed to hobble to his feet--okay, make that foot. He knew his ankle was broken. Nothing else could hurt this much.
"Fuck," he said again, this time resigned. There was no way he could skate today, not without outing himself as a wizard. The medics were on the ice, trying to pull him over to the kiss and cry to get the skate off his already swelling ankle. Draco looked around, trying to see who had yelled for him. Most of the faces were unknown to him, just fans of the sport, nameless smiles and signs...but there. In the front row, near the judges booth. He knew that face.
"Come on, then, Donny. We're going to see what's wrong," his coach said softly, squeezing his hand.
"I know what's wrong. My bloody ankle's broke. We're out of the running," he snapped at the man, wincing as his skate was roughly pulled off.
"Maybe it's just sprained. We'll get you a painkiller. Think if you had to skate you could?"
Draco gave the man a look, one that conveyed just how stupid that idea sounded. "My bones are smashed enough already. Nothing could make me cut my career shorter than it already is by skating on this foot, Greg."
"What were you thinking out there? You had it set, and then you just collapsed," Greg chided, Draco's coach before anything else.
"I...I saw someone I used to know. It startled me," he answered softly, hissing when a particularly careless medic twisted his ankle while splinting it.
"Who? I'll get security to bring them here. I'm owed an explanation as to why my star skater's going to spend his shining moment in the ER." The medics had brought in a wheelchair for Draco, but he waved them off, getting to his feet shakily and hobbling to the rink edge.
He was still there. Draco knew that sandy hair. "There," he said, pointing. The man was still there, and Draco placed him now. "Finnigan."
"Finnigan?"
"Bloke I...went to school with." Draco ignored the medics, then carefully stepped onto the ice, seeing how badly his leg hurt, if there was any way he could skate. He cursed loudly, falling on his arse.
There wasn't a way.
Draco watched as security took hold of Seamus, bringing him over to where Greg stood, and smiled slightly as his coach gave the Irishman hell. Slowly, he slid back to the edge of the rink, shaking his head. "Painkillers. Now," he managed to say. "Hospital after."
In an instant, he had been set in the wheelchair, eyes closed, hands tight on the armrests. He could've made it to the Olympics. He could've won the gold. And now, because he had to come back...
"Drac-- Donovan, I'm sorry. Didn't think you'd recognise me," Seamus said softly, hurrying alongside the wheelchair.
"You couldn't have waited until I'd finished the jump?" Draco snapped in return, still not looking at the boy he used to know so well. "Bloody stupid Mick." He knew they were loading him into the ambulance, but he just didn't care. He couldn't skate, what's the worst that could happen now?
"Okay, I deserved that--hey, I'm coming with him!"
Draco made a mental note to never wonder if things could get worse. "You deserve worse for this." The blond finally met Seamus's eyes, his loathing obvious. "I fucking had it, Finnigan! I could have won! You destroyed my chances!"
"I'm sorry, okay?" Seamus sounded like he truly was sorry, but Draco wasn't taking chances.
"So why the hell did you yell for me? And by my name, no less?"
"Because I'd heard rumours. And I missed you."
"Missed me? You're the one who ran off to Ireland and forgot about me!" Draco growled, kicking his uninjured leg at Seamus's shin. "And now you've come back to ruin what I've made for myself. Thank you, Finnigan, ever so fucking much."
"Mr. Mabon, please stay still. Don't jar that break," the paramedic said, placing a hand on his arm.
"I can't do much worse to it," Draco replied, looking down at his leg. "I'll be off the ice for months." He shot a glare at Seamus. "I'm out of the Olympics, and it'll be another season before I'm able to compete again, and even then I'll be less likely to win, because of this fucking break!" He screamed that last part, wanting to cry because everything he'd worked for was gone.
"I told you, I'm sorry, Dra-- Donovan! What more can I do?"
"Get the fuck out of my life again! You didn't have to come back!" I'd just gotten over you.
"I did have to, and you know it as well as I. There's too much..." Seamus waved his arm between them, shrugging. "...too much bad between us. And we're going to talk."
"Not until this leg stops hurting, we're not." And Draco shut his eyes again, refusing to acknowledge the others in the ambulance until they reached the hospital. His mind was racing. He hadn't seen Seamus since just after graduation. That's when the Irishman went back home to his mum, and left Draco behind, not giving a shit that it nearly broke the blond! Draco had been so hurt he'd run to the Muggle world, finding a passion for figure skating. He'd changed his name, cut off all ties to his past life, and he was happy. He was the best.
Two hours later, four more painkillers had finally dulled the aching in his body, and he was propped up in bed, hands pressed against his face as he tried to stop shaking. So close. So close. He had it locked up.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he sighed. "Enter," he said softly, knowing it was Seamus on the other side before the handle turned. "Haven't you done enough to fuck up my life already?"
"That's why I came back. To fix it."
Draco glanced at the 'Call Nurse' button beside his hand. At least he could get some privacy in a hurry if he really wanted Seamus out. "Fix it? How? By breaking my heart again?" The blond fell silent for a moment, shaking his head. "I don't know if I can deal with that."
"So you think you're the only one I hurt?" Seamus scoffed. "You always were a drama whore." The Irishman closed the door and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of Draco's bed. "You don't know how much it hurt me to leave you, Draco."
"I rather think I do know how much it hurt you!" Draco snapped, crossing his arms across his chest.
"How much then?"
"Obviously, not much!"
"You're wrong! It killed me to leave you, Draco! Felt like I'd ripped my heart out!"
"Why did you, then? Why fuck up everything we had going for us by...by just leaving?"
"Because my family needed me. It was an emergency. My father...he was sick. I didn't have time for niceties, beyond telling you why I was going home, and by the time I came back, you'd already left and nobody knew where you'd gone."
"I needed to get away. I couldn't bear to see the...I hated it. I hated how everyone was so fucking happy and I wasn't, okay? I'd already lost everything to my name, and then I lost you. I couldn't stand it."
"So you went Muggle? And not even into obscurity, if you were so bent on not being found..."
Draco shrugged, running his fingers over the edge of his cast. All the way to his knee. He's be in physical therapy for months before he got his leg back to skating form. "You know me. Never could settle for second best."
Seamus was silent for a minute, then stilled Draco's hand with his own. "I'm not second best, you know."
"Gods, how many movies did you watch to come up with that cliché?" the skater said, stifling a laugh.
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy. It's true, and you damn well know that."
Draco nodded. "I know. That's what hurt."
"That you lost the best?"
"That I'd lost you."
Seamus looked over at the door, as if expecting someone to walk in and ruin this moment, then back at Draco. "I didn't want to lose you. But I did. And then, there you were, staring out from the telly, and I had to find you. To apologise for everything." He smiled weakly. "Didn't plan to break your leg in the process."
"Just a lucky bonus?"
The door opened, and a giggling, blushing young nurse stuck her head in. "Mr. Mabon, do you need anything? Something to eat, or another aspirin?" She stopped, looking at the closeness between the two men sitting on the bed, narrowing her eyes, as though she had claim to the injured star. "Or this gentleman to leave you alone?"
"I'd like to have some privacy," Draco growled. "I've had a shitty day, and this man's the reason. He's going to fix it, if he knows what's good for him, and tell the rest of your staff to leave us be, or you can be sure to hear from my lawyer." Then, he smiled slightly at Seamus. "Being famous has its perks," he explained as the nurse hurried to shut the door behind her.
"You don't need to be famous to command that sort of respect. I remember how you could make the entire Order cower in fear when you wanted to," Seamus recalled fondly, squeezing Draco's hand. "But stop changing the subject, will you? I'm trying to win you back."
"Not so hard to do that, Seamus. All you had to do was ask." Draco leaned forward, grunting with the effort of moving his leg out of the way without knocking into Seamus, wrapping his arms around the boy and sighing. "I never could say no to you. Bloody pathetic weakness, it is."
"Blame the Irish charm. It's what everyone else does." Draco laughed slightly.
"Don't think this lets you off for ruining my Olympic dream," he said softly, pressing his lips to the man's neck.
"Think a quick shag would help my case?"
"Subtle, Finnigan, really subtle."
"Does that mean no?"
"It means I'd better be topping, and that I can't move this leg very far until the plaster finishes drying, so you'd better plan on straddling me." Seamus grinned, turning his head to meet Draco's lips softly.
"You so set against our ways I can't cast a charm or two to make sure we're left alone?"
Draco shook his head, smiling wide. "Let them come. Everyone assumes figure skaters are gay anyway, why not prove them right?"
Seamus looked around the small white room, seeing no cameras, only one window, but being on the second floor made that safe, and only the buzzer to alert the staff to any problems..."Oh, what the hell?" he muttered, and pushed Draco back to the bed, kissing him deeply.
Draco lost himself in the kiss, holding tight to Seamus's shoulders. "Tell me how you found me," he asked softly, nipping the tip of the other man's nose. "Tell me why it took you eight years to come back to me."
"Well, originally, it was my family. My father...he died, you know that, and I had to take care of the arrangements and make sure my mother was alright. Nasty legal battles, there... And without him there to work, I had to bring in the money." Seamus stopped, running a hand through Draco's hair, remembering a time when he was the only person who could get away with that. "Odd jobs didn't do it for me; I could barely put enough food on the table to feed us, never mind paying the other bills. Didn't have time for anything else.
"So I started working in the Muggle world. Paid a bit more, and it was easy, with a bit of magic. But I knew I could bring in more than that." Soft fingers touched Seamus's face, and Draco pulled him closer for a hug.
"How'd you do it?"
"Started stealing. It wasn't hard; did enough of it during the war that it's second nature anyway, and you wouldn't believe the money people will pay to have me nick something from a family member." Seamus grinned, pleased with himself and the niche he'd made for himself. "Got really good at it, too. You know, I've even sold things to museums. Nobody questions, and if they did, there's always Obliviate. Never gave up my magic like you. Made it bloody hard to find you."
"Then how did you? Come on, Finnigan, I need to know why you're back."
"Because I never wanted to leave you, I told you! And one night, I saw you on the news, you’d won some competition or other, and I knew it was you. Different name, but I’d know you anywhere. Your hair, your eyes, your arse..." The Irishman let his hands fall to Draco’s trousers, toying with the button as he spoke. "Found out when and where you’d be skating next, and spent far more than I probably should have on the ticket for what amounted to a back row seat. Tried again, and again, and again to get closer, but I never got close enough, not until today, and, well, you know the rest."
"A broken ankle and a snog on a hospital bed," Draco answered, pressing his hips up to meet Seamus's hands, moaning softly. "Hurry it up, would you?"
"Patience is a virtue," Seamus singsonged, and Draco groaned.
"Fucking tease..."
"That's why you love me," Seamus replied cheekily.
Draco paused, looking up at Seamus. "Do you still love me?" Seamus shrugged, and Draco had his answer. "The feeling's returned," he whispered, smiling slightly. "But I might change my mind if you don't do something--anything."
Seamus chuckled, pressing his hand against the bulge in Draco's trousers and rubbing roughly. "There's something," he said amiably, leaning down for another deep kiss.
"What, do I need to give you step-by-step instructions?"
"Might be helpful. It has been a few years, after all," Seamus shot back, grinning madly at Draco's obvious frustration.
"Damn you. Unbutton my trousers, prick." Seamus did so, fingers slipping further under the fabric to tease the wiry hair under the man's briefs. "The zip, too. Gods, you're slow on the uptake."
"Making you work for it, Malfoy. Nothing good was ever easy, you know." Down went Draco's zipper, and so did Seamus's fingers, barely brushing Draco's cock.
"You'd better be worth it. Down with them."
"How far down?" Seamus pulled his trousers down just past his thighs, enough that he had access to the lovely body before him. "That good?" He'd always rather liked fucking with his clothes on. Bit of a kink.
"It's good, Seamus, but please, hurry it up? I'll start begging, and I'm in no mood to beg today," Draco threatened, knowing his words were lost to the Irishman. "Look, get those trousers off, and get ready to be fucked. Easy enough to understand, or should I use smaller words?"
"I understood you perfectly, Malfoy. Sure hope you know what you're getting into." Seamus grinned, sliding down the bed until he was face to face with Draco's underwear, and he mouthed the hard erection pulling the fabric taut, purring softly. "Get those things off while I strip, or you won't be getting my arse anytime soon."
Draco moaned softly, arching against Seamus's mouth desperately...until that hot mouth moved away. "Stop distracting me, and I will," he growled, struggling to free his erection without moving his leg too much. This would be interesting, he decided. He'd never had to keep his legs still without being tied down before. But he really didn't need to hurt his leg further. The sooner it healed, the sooner he could do this again.
Oh, and skate. The sooner he could start skating again, and he'd win the next Olympics, and he'd have the gold, and--
Seamus's trousers were off, and he was stroking himself lightly. Draco remembered the last time he'd been in this position, face to face with the Irishman's groin. It was the night before Seamus had left him. But it had been bittersweet, much unlike this feeling now, this feeling of pure desire and desperation. Unfortunately, Draco was in no mood to see if he tasted the same. He needed Seamus, right now.
"Our way, or the Muggle way?" Seamus asked breathlessly, already reaching for his wand.
"Just do it, Finnigan," Draco growled, and Seamus whispered the same spell he'd always used, sliding two fingers into himself to prepare himself for Draco. "No, no, no. That's my job," the injured man added, gripping Seamus's hips as he pulled him closer, sliding his own fingers inside his opening, leaning up for a kiss.
This was familiar territory; Seamus tasted the same as he always did, with maybe just a hint of alcohol that hadn't been there before. He must have had a drink recently, Draco decided, tongue searching out the deepest parts of the man's mouth.
Seamus moaned, and Draco added another finger. He couldn't wait much longer, and judging by the sounds Seamus was making, he couldn't wait, either. So he pulled his fingers out, ready for more, if Seamus was.
"Ready for me?" he asked, and the Irishman nodded, legs spread, arse hovering above Draco's cock for just a moment before he sank down slowly, adjusting to the feeling of being so full. "Oh, fuck," Draco swore softly, sliding his hands under Seamus's shirt, touching the hard muscles almost reverently.
"That would be the general idea," Seamus teased him, beginning to rock his hips slowly.
Draco’s hands gripped the man’s waist, setting a faster pace for their movements. "General idea a little bit harder," he ordered, "Before I do it myself."
"And we can’t have the ice prince working hard for anything, can we?"
"Do you really want me to shove you off the bed?"
"Want me to fall for you like you did for me out on the ice, then?"
Draco scowled slightly. "Prick."
"Oh, shut it and let’s get on with it." Seamus sat up slightly, forcing Draco deeper inside his arse, moaning softly. "I'm going to regret those eight years apart, aren't I?" he breathed, leaning back. His hand bumped something hard: Draco's cast. He'd almost forgotten. He began to move a little slower, wary of hurting the man in any way.
"You'd better regret it, and spend the next eight repenting," Draco shot back, his words slightly garbled by a moan. Seamus was hot and tight, and so familiar. He gripped the man's erection tightly, matching each stroke over his own cock with a twist of his hand on Seamus's.
The two men moved together slowly, desperately, needily, remembering so much and learning each other all over again. Words of love were whispered softly, gentle hands warm on sweat-soaked skin.
Draco came first; the emotions of the day filling him up before he spilled inside Seamus, gasping his name. Seamus followed soon after, covering Draco's hand with semen, and no doubt dripping on his shirt.
For a moment, it was awkward; Seamus was sure he wanted to curl up in Draco's arms, but what if Draco had just wanted the sex and nothing more? Or pushed him away? Seamus didn't want that rejection.
His worries were put to rest, however, when Draco pulled him close, cheek to cheek, as they caught their breath.
"Great," Draco said, once he could speak again, Seamus laying on top of him, nuzzling his neck. "Now my hand and my leg itch. Damn cast."
"At least you had fun making one of those itch," the Irishman rationalised, and Draco snorted.
"Don't be such a twat. Both of them are your fault."
"I'll make it better. Just tell me how." Seamus looked up, brushing Draco's hair from his forehead.
Draco smiled slightly. "I'll think of a proper punishment later. Right now, you'd best clean us up before Greg comes back to check on me. They must've picked the team by now..."
"I really didn't mean it, you know. I'd've been so proud if you'd made it in."
"If?" Draco scoffed. "You hold so little faith in me."
"Right, right, when you'd made the team," Seamus agreed, rolling his eyes. "Egotistical brat."
"But every word of it's true. I'd have been the best shot for gold if I weren't here right now." Draco sighed, looking melancholy. He really had wanted to win.
"Hey, none of that. There's always next time." Seamus pressed a soft kiss to Draco's forehead, then whispered the spell to clean them both. "I'm not sure I'd have been willing to let you go so soon anyway. I've just got you back."
"Oh, I'll be making it to the next Olympics, don't doubt that. And I'll take the gold, too. Should my scores not be as high as they might be, I expect you to lodge formal complaints by way of making the judges score me higher." Draco grinned, and Seamus smiled weakly.
"Slytherin to the core still, aren't you? Wanting me to cheat if you happen to do less than perfect..."
Draco swatted the man's arm lightly. "Shut it. I only meant that should I not get brilliant scores I expect you to make it so. It's not cheating, it's tweaking the results to where they should be. Now put your trousers back on before someone decides to come in. Gods know that little nurse is probably standing outside the door, listening to what we're getting up to as it is." The sudden thump from the other side of the door seemed to support his point, and Seamus laughed softly, kissing Draco deeply once again before pulling away to begin dressing himself.
"That mean you want me to go? So you and...what's his name, Greg? So you and he can talk?"
Draco paused a moment, then struggled to pull his pants up and make himself look presentable again. "Stay. We're...well, we're together now, aren't we?" Or did I just misread sympathy?
Seamus broke out in a huge smile, then moved in close for a deep, relieved kiss. "I think we could be together. Though it wasn't exactly my intention for it to work out this way. Really, I just wanted to clear the air and then let you live your life."
"I'd rather live it with you than without. Now, do I look decent?" Draco ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down, though it still looked mussed.
"A Greek God, you are," Seamus said, bowing low. "Were I but worthy to stand in your presence."
"Prick." Draco simply said, and he opened his mouth to continue, but the door opened then, and Greg walked in.
"Well, you would've beat everyone else, hands down, Don," he said, barely glancing at Seamus as he walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed, "But Lyall took your spot." Greg stopped, looking at the Irishman, who had inched his way toward the door. "What are you still doing here? Donny, you want him out?"
"Greg, stop. We...worked out our differences." Draco smiled at Seamus, whose expression softened in response.
Greg looked between the two, understanding dawning. "Oh. Oh." An awkward silence followed. "Right, then. Should I leave you two...?"
"That won't be necessary. Dra--ah, sorry, Donovan, I'll just leave my number? So you can call me when you've got a free moment. No doubt you and your coach are waiting for me to leave so you can curse my name, right?" Seamus smiled winningly, backing out of the room slowly.
"Hey--I love you, yeah?"
Seamus paused, then nodded. "Feeling's mutual. Call me when you're feeling a bit better."
And with that, he left, Draco smiling after him.
"Love him?" Greg's words cut through Draco's thoughts, and the man in question nodded.
"Never stopped. You okay with it?"
"Just don't let it get in the way of your recovery or career. And next season, if you miss so much as one practice, so help me I'll make sure you regret it."
Draco laughed. "Seamus won't let me miss. He'll be too proud when I beat the pants off the competition." He sat up straighter, looking at his coach intently. He was ready for Seamus to begin pampering him. "So, uh...I'm feeling better. Did you want to curse Seamus's name a while more, or can I call him now?"