Hello, and FIC: This Old Man, Moody/Draco, chan, R
I'd just like to say how honoured I am at being invited to join this community, and am taking the opportunity to thank you by posting a little something!
Title: This Old Man
Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody/Draco; Lucius/Draco (implied)
Summary: Draco is lost in the Muggle world. He ends up getting help from an unlikely source...
Rating: R for mature themes
Warnings: M/M slash, implied chanslash, implied
incest, extreme age difference, seduction, manipulation, AU.
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K. Rowling. This is just another of my crazy flights of fantasy.
Growing up to be a man is a very important task for a small boy, and growing up to be a powerful, pure-blooded Malfoy man is what absorbs little Draco's mind for the most part. He adores his father, worships Lucius Malfoy's dignity and sensual grace, demands replicas of Lucius' stylish clothes and wears them with what he hopes is an emulation of the older Malfoy's regal arrogance.
Draco wants to please his father more than anything, and not merely by moulding himself in Lucius' image. He wants Lucius to smile upon him with pride and tenderness; he desires the sultry lips of Lucius to softly press against his own, aches for the light brushing of Lucius' fingertips against his skin. Sometimes Lucius bathes his little son, and Draco arches and coos and lifts himself towards his father's careful hands, his delicate pink nipples prominent and hardened amidst a frost of rainbow and alabaster bubbles, his damp platinum hair with the texture of frayed silk, his cherry-sweet mouth hot and open and needing. Draco knows that his father likes little boys - he has sometimes peeked through the keyhole and seen them stripped bare in Lucius' chambers on days when Draco's mother is not at home. Lucius kisses them all over their bodies, lithe, supple young bodies of boys in their first or second year at Hogwarts, the school Draco will probably attend in a few years. But when Draco flutters his eyelashes at Lucius in the bathtub, the older Malfoy merely smiles in regretful amusement and sighs, "Alas, too young..."
Draco wishes that growing did not take so long.
Being with Lucius is the most important thing in the world to Draco, so when father and son venture out on trips or errands together, these journeys are a special bliss all their own. Sometimes Lucius even takes Draco out into the Muggle world with him, usually to show the child how much inferior Muggles are to wizards, with their pathetic, cumbersome devices used in lieu of magic, their paintings and photographs that do not move, and their toys without the fascination of enchantment. Mostly, Draco agrees with his father's assessment of Muggles. They seem dispiritedly dull, their moods and demeanour bland compared to those of wizards and witches. But Draco is a child, and he is curious. Particularly about the Muggle modes of transportation, so much larger and more unwieldy than broomsticks, with their multiplicity of colours and shapes and sounds. Sometimes, as Lucius and Draco walk the crowded Muggle streets, the boy actually finds himself more rapt with the blur and cacophony of the traffic than with Lucius' voice or Lucius' hand in his own. Draco is not sure that he likes these sights and smells and noises, but they are ever new and they intrigue him.
On one such visit into Muggle London, Draco's attention is led astray by a large vehicle carrying children dressed in some kind of uniform - that of a Muggle school, perhaps. It stops nearby to where a large group of boys and girls dressed in identical uniforms are waiting to board the contraption; as its door swings open, Draco hears a snatch of song from inside:
"This old man, he played one..."
Draco does not notice until too late that he has let go of his father's hand; Lucius has vanished amongst the milling crowds of people, and Draco realises with a slow dawning of cold dread that he is lost.
Draco knows that he should face his predicament with the cool poise befitting a noble Malfoy, but he is a child and he is frightened, alone amongst strangers, and Muggle strangers at that. His heart is thumping and his eyes prickle with tears; everything seems to blur as he struggles through the swarms of people, searching vainly for a glimpse of Lucius. He stumbles and falls to the pavement, grazing his soft skin and letting out a forlorn whimper.
But then a wiry, slim-fingered hand with a firm grip is lifting Draco to his feet. Draco stares into the face of an old man with flowing grey hair, leaning on some kind of staff or walking stick, draped in a long dark coat with a bowler hat pulled down over one eye. The man's voice is growling and gruff, but his words are kind, asking if Draco is lost, if he is all right. Draco does not know why, but somehow he feels that this old man is a wizard, and can be trusted.
This old man has rented rooms not far away, to which he takes Draco and anoints his bruises with a healing balm, and consoles him with delicious little cakes that taste of cinnamon and leave sticky crystals of sugar clinging to Draco's rosy lips. With a strange and twisted smile, this old man asks if he can kiss these away; Draco knows deep down that he should not let him, but this old man is so kindly and gentle and unthreatening that Draco willingly climbs onto this old man's lap and touches his lips to those of this old man, their tongues fluttering and dancing against each other.
Draco does not mind the fact that this old man's warm, skilled hands are scarred, or that this old man has a wooden leg, or that when this old man removes his hat he has one dark eye and a weird round blue eye that constantly rolls and stares. It makes Draco giggle to see the blue eye spin and whiz in all directions. This old man says the eye is magical and can see through anything. Draco is impressed.
This old man is so good to Draco, especially when those gnarled but slender fingers slip under Draco's clothes and stroke him everywhere, sliding all over Draco's tingling, pliant flesh until the child is wriggling and gasping and panting with sheer wild, forbidden delight, and this old man is moving his hips against his precious burden and moaning. As their hearts slow finally and their breathing grows less rapid, this old man bends to bury his face in Draco's platinum hair; he inhales its pure and peerless fragrance and whispers, "I know it's wrong, so wrong, I shouldn't do this, but Gods it's been forever, and you're just too sweet, too perfect..."
This old man uses his enchanted eye to scan the crowd as he and Draco walk back into the street, locating Lucius at last. Draco is relieved to see that his father is not furious with him, merely pale and shaken with worry, though he feels guilty for putting that haunted look in Lucius' eyes and crestfallen at the stern words about doing what he is told and staying close to Lucius next time. And he must suffer the punishment of not being able to go on the next few trips and errands with Lucius... that makes Draco unhappy, but not unendurably so. For he can always send an owl to this old man...
Lucius had addressed this old man as Auror Moody, and this old man had told Draco that he could call him Alastor when there were no other grown-ups present, but Draco prefers to think of him as "this old man". It reminds him of the odd little children's song that keeps swirling around in his head, and that day of being lost in the Muggle world, with all that strangeness and pleasure and confusion.
No matter now that Draco has to wait to grow a little older to be taken to Lucius' bed, no longer does he have to spy on Lucius with other boys and imagine that he is in their place. He can get all the caresses he wants from this old man; there is a secluded gazebo in Malfoy Manor's grounds where the wards guarding the estate can be weakened for a while, and it is here that Draco and this old man have their clandestine trysts. On warm nights Draco can disrobe for this old man, feel his expert hands and delectably wicked mouth on every aching, aroused part of his flawless little body. With this old man, Draco need not resort to the coy, almost girlish flirtation and lowering of eyelids he had once employed in order to garner Lucius' attentions. This old man cares not if Draco is grass-stained from a broomstick tumble or mussed from play - to this old man, Draco will always taste of innocent childishness and be scented like summer sunshine.
Sometimes this old man brings with him a vial of cooling, lubricating gel; Draco has seen his father use this potion with his boy paramours before. This old man uses the lubricant so that Draco can feel those heavenly, skilful fingers of his somewhere that makes Draco writhe and melt with delicious heat. Draco will not let this old man use that lubricant for anything else, however - that is an ecstasy that Draco feels he is not yet ready for, and which he is reserving for Lucius alone. And that is perfectly fine with this old man.
Draco likes this old man a lot - perhaps even loves him a little. This old man says that he loves Draco, but he is not Lucius. And Draco knows that when he is old enough to be taken into Lucius' bed, he will have to end what he has with this old man. For Draco is a child, and there are certain things that children must outgrow.
~ Fin.
Love & Serpents' Kisses,
Anath.
Title: This Old Man
Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody/Draco; Lucius/Draco (implied)
Summary: Draco is lost in the Muggle world. He ends up getting help from an unlikely source...
Rating: R for mature themes
Warnings: M/M slash, implied chanslash, implied
incest, extreme age difference, seduction, manipulation, AU.
Possible Spoilers: Books 1-5
Disclaimer: All characters and profits belong to J.K. Rowling. This is just another of my crazy flights of fantasy.
Growing up to be a man is a very important task for a small boy, and growing up to be a powerful, pure-blooded Malfoy man is what absorbs little Draco's mind for the most part. He adores his father, worships Lucius Malfoy's dignity and sensual grace, demands replicas of Lucius' stylish clothes and wears them with what he hopes is an emulation of the older Malfoy's regal arrogance.
Draco wants to please his father more than anything, and not merely by moulding himself in Lucius' image. He wants Lucius to smile upon him with pride and tenderness; he desires the sultry lips of Lucius to softly press against his own, aches for the light brushing of Lucius' fingertips against his skin. Sometimes Lucius bathes his little son, and Draco arches and coos and lifts himself towards his father's careful hands, his delicate pink nipples prominent and hardened amidst a frost of rainbow and alabaster bubbles, his damp platinum hair with the texture of frayed silk, his cherry-sweet mouth hot and open and needing. Draco knows that his father likes little boys - he has sometimes peeked through the keyhole and seen them stripped bare in Lucius' chambers on days when Draco's mother is not at home. Lucius kisses them all over their bodies, lithe, supple young bodies of boys in their first or second year at Hogwarts, the school Draco will probably attend in a few years. But when Draco flutters his eyelashes at Lucius in the bathtub, the older Malfoy merely smiles in regretful amusement and sighs, "Alas, too young..."
Draco wishes that growing did not take so long.
Being with Lucius is the most important thing in the world to Draco, so when father and son venture out on trips or errands together, these journeys are a special bliss all their own. Sometimes Lucius even takes Draco out into the Muggle world with him, usually to show the child how much inferior Muggles are to wizards, with their pathetic, cumbersome devices used in lieu of magic, their paintings and photographs that do not move, and their toys without the fascination of enchantment. Mostly, Draco agrees with his father's assessment of Muggles. They seem dispiritedly dull, their moods and demeanour bland compared to those of wizards and witches. But Draco is a child, and he is curious. Particularly about the Muggle modes of transportation, so much larger and more unwieldy than broomsticks, with their multiplicity of colours and shapes and sounds. Sometimes, as Lucius and Draco walk the crowded Muggle streets, the boy actually finds himself more rapt with the blur and cacophony of the traffic than with Lucius' voice or Lucius' hand in his own. Draco is not sure that he likes these sights and smells and noises, but they are ever new and they intrigue him.
On one such visit into Muggle London, Draco's attention is led astray by a large vehicle carrying children dressed in some kind of uniform - that of a Muggle school, perhaps. It stops nearby to where a large group of boys and girls dressed in identical uniforms are waiting to board the contraption; as its door swings open, Draco hears a snatch of song from inside:
"This old man, he played one..."
Draco does not notice until too late that he has let go of his father's hand; Lucius has vanished amongst the milling crowds of people, and Draco realises with a slow dawning of cold dread that he is lost.
Draco knows that he should face his predicament with the cool poise befitting a noble Malfoy, but he is a child and he is frightened, alone amongst strangers, and Muggle strangers at that. His heart is thumping and his eyes prickle with tears; everything seems to blur as he struggles through the swarms of people, searching vainly for a glimpse of Lucius. He stumbles and falls to the pavement, grazing his soft skin and letting out a forlorn whimper.
But then a wiry, slim-fingered hand with a firm grip is lifting Draco to his feet. Draco stares into the face of an old man with flowing grey hair, leaning on some kind of staff or walking stick, draped in a long dark coat with a bowler hat pulled down over one eye. The man's voice is growling and gruff, but his words are kind, asking if Draco is lost, if he is all right. Draco does not know why, but somehow he feels that this old man is a wizard, and can be trusted.
This old man has rented rooms not far away, to which he takes Draco and anoints his bruises with a healing balm, and consoles him with delicious little cakes that taste of cinnamon and leave sticky crystals of sugar clinging to Draco's rosy lips. With a strange and twisted smile, this old man asks if he can kiss these away; Draco knows deep down that he should not let him, but this old man is so kindly and gentle and unthreatening that Draco willingly climbs onto this old man's lap and touches his lips to those of this old man, their tongues fluttering and dancing against each other.
Draco does not mind the fact that this old man's warm, skilled hands are scarred, or that this old man has a wooden leg, or that when this old man removes his hat he has one dark eye and a weird round blue eye that constantly rolls and stares. It makes Draco giggle to see the blue eye spin and whiz in all directions. This old man says the eye is magical and can see through anything. Draco is impressed.
This old man is so good to Draco, especially when those gnarled but slender fingers slip under Draco's clothes and stroke him everywhere, sliding all over Draco's tingling, pliant flesh until the child is wriggling and gasping and panting with sheer wild, forbidden delight, and this old man is moving his hips against his precious burden and moaning. As their hearts slow finally and their breathing grows less rapid, this old man bends to bury his face in Draco's platinum hair; he inhales its pure and peerless fragrance and whispers, "I know it's wrong, so wrong, I shouldn't do this, but Gods it's been forever, and you're just too sweet, too perfect..."
This old man uses his enchanted eye to scan the crowd as he and Draco walk back into the street, locating Lucius at last. Draco is relieved to see that his father is not furious with him, merely pale and shaken with worry, though he feels guilty for putting that haunted look in Lucius' eyes and crestfallen at the stern words about doing what he is told and staying close to Lucius next time. And he must suffer the punishment of not being able to go on the next few trips and errands with Lucius... that makes Draco unhappy, but not unendurably so. For he can always send an owl to this old man...
Lucius had addressed this old man as Auror Moody, and this old man had told Draco that he could call him Alastor when there were no other grown-ups present, but Draco prefers to think of him as "this old man". It reminds him of the odd little children's song that keeps swirling around in his head, and that day of being lost in the Muggle world, with all that strangeness and pleasure and confusion.
No matter now that Draco has to wait to grow a little older to be taken to Lucius' bed, no longer does he have to spy on Lucius with other boys and imagine that he is in their place. He can get all the caresses he wants from this old man; there is a secluded gazebo in Malfoy Manor's grounds where the wards guarding the estate can be weakened for a while, and it is here that Draco and this old man have their clandestine trysts. On warm nights Draco can disrobe for this old man, feel his expert hands and delectably wicked mouth on every aching, aroused part of his flawless little body. With this old man, Draco need not resort to the coy, almost girlish flirtation and lowering of eyelids he had once employed in order to garner Lucius' attentions. This old man cares not if Draco is grass-stained from a broomstick tumble or mussed from play - to this old man, Draco will always taste of innocent childishness and be scented like summer sunshine.
Sometimes this old man brings with him a vial of cooling, lubricating gel; Draco has seen his father use this potion with his boy paramours before. This old man uses the lubricant so that Draco can feel those heavenly, skilful fingers of his somewhere that makes Draco writhe and melt with delicious heat. Draco will not let this old man use that lubricant for anything else, however - that is an ecstasy that Draco feels he is not yet ready for, and which he is reserving for Lucius alone. And that is perfectly fine with this old man.
Draco likes this old man a lot - perhaps even loves him a little. This old man says that he loves Draco, but he is not Lucius. And Draco knows that when he is old enough to be taken into Lucius' bed, he will have to end what he has with this old man. For Draco is a child, and there are certain things that children must outgrow.
~ Fin.
Love & Serpents' Kisses,
Anath.