Round 16 - Poison/Family - Team A - "A Taste of Paradise"
Title: A Taste of Paradise
LJ username: Anonymous
Team: Anonymous
Prompt: Poison
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Notes: AU, takes place several years after the War. Thank you so much to my betas! :)
Word count: 4,278
Disclaimer: All sexual activity portrayed in this fic is between two consenting adults who are at least 18 years of age. I do not own any of the characters.
A Taste of Paradise
Doing several things at the same time had never been a strong point of Draco, especially not, when he was in a hurry. Draco had thought he would manage it to get inside before it started to rain but apparently he had thought wrong. The pelting rain had already destroyed his hairstyle, but he could fix that again once he was in the Apothecary - what he might not be able to save were the files he had just picked up at the Ministry. If the release of his father from Azkaban was destroyed by something like rain, Draco would never forgive himself. After all, his father had nobody else who would take care of this legal stuff, let alone had Draco someone who would help him to understand the paragraphs.
All Draco had left after the War was a faded tattoo on his left forearm. After he had already lost all of his friends, he would not risk never seeing the last blood relative he cared about again.
Draco slid around a corner and promptly bumped into another man, dropping all of his files and disgracing himself with slumping down on his backside directly into a puddle of mud. Groaning, he quickly tried to save his parchments from being soaked completely and silently prayed that he would be able to dry the wet papers while he let the man, who knelt down beside him, verbally pay for getting him into this mess.
“Are you blind, for Merlin’s sake?!” Draco shoved the pale, freckled hand away before it could touch his parchments. Sniffling because of the cold and rain, Draco pressed the drenched files against his chest and looked into the face of the man for the first time, whereupon his eyes widened in surprise.
“Polite as ever, Malfoy,” muttered Ronald Weasley, shaking his head disapprovingly, which made Draco snort. Wiping his face dry with his sleeve, Draco straightened up and held the files protectively under his cloak as he looked at Ron. His red hair was so wet from the rain that it had become an ordinary brown colour causing Draco not to recognise him immediately. However, the piercing blue eyes were unmistakable and made Draco quickly shift his gaze away.
“Sorry,” Draco answered reluctantly because he could still imagine better things than being too kind to the Weasel. However, he could not afford to risk Ron saying anything bad about him at the Ministry - because he knew Ron would certainly love doing that. “I was in a hurry. My opening hours always overlap exactly with the appointments that I get from the Ministry.” He gave Ron an irritated look, biting back a comment that Ron would never have become an Auror without Potter’s help and then he could not show off like that.
“And I thought I had to wait this long because you were standing in front of the mirror, Malfoy,” Ron said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and following Draco, who walked straight to the only shop in Diagon Alley that was still closed but Ron was the only one waiting outside in the tumultuous rain. “You have dirt on your butt.”
Draco whirled around. “Oh, I didn’t notice! How unlikely after you fall into a puddle of mud,” he admitted full of sarcasm but with a sweet smile, which apparently amused Ron. “Thanks, Weasley, but you don’t need an excuse to stare at my arse.” He turned around again before Ron was even able to raise his eyebrows. Draco’s chilly manner sadly did not make Ron leave.
“So, you already heard it?” Ron asked, receiving a puzzled look from Draco who had not a single clue what Ron was talking about. Still, Ron did not seem to think that it was necessary to make it clearer what he wanted from Draco and just followed him on the doorstep of the Apothecary. The rain was dashing on Draco’s pale face and ran straight into his collar as he bent down to search for his wand in his pocket.
“That you always try to make excuses whenever you’re staring at my arse?” Draco frowned distractedly at Ron, just looking away as Ron’s ears had turned scarlet. “You did that constantly in school, but I can’t blame you for it.”
“Always the same old story,” Ron sighed, zealous to stay calm, although it was obvious that he clenched his hands into fists. The Weasel was Draco’s only remaining victim from past days, but sometimes he found it anything but funny that Ron seemed to literally chase him just to hear some insults for which Draco was simply not in the right mood. Maybe it was nostalgia, perhaps even the opportunity to see Draco’s miserable life and give him back what he had done to Ron during their years in Hogwarts.
“If you, for a change, want something that I can actually give you, then say it straight out,” Draco said, pushing the door open and turning the open sign around before he put his files on the counter in the back of the Apothecary. Underneath him the carpet became slowly soaking wet, but Draco put his whole attention on the files first and dried them magically, while Ron looked around in the small room, frowning now and then whenever he discovered a few potions, which he disliked - either because of their effect or ingredients.
“You’re dripping,” Ron said finally, after he had sneaked behind the counter to glance over Draco’s shoulder. He simply ignored that he was soaked to the bone, too, eyes stubbornly focused on Draco, who thought in a haze of confusion that Ron looked rather like a hungry lion. Draco was not sure if he wanted to be his prey. “Shall I rub you warm or do you want me to think about a different method to make you stop freezing?”
“I prefer anything to being rubbed by you,” Draco hissed, trying to suppress a shiver as Ron dried him with his wand. It felt better, much warmer, and the heat of the body at his back was a pleasant feeling, but Draco did not want the Weasel to know that and muttered coldly: “Thanks.”
“Too bad, as I’m single again,” Ron whispered close to Draco’s ear, causing goose bumps to blossom over his entire body. “You really haven’t heard it yet, Malfoy? And I’ve been wondering why you still haven’t made fun of the fact that Hermione has finally realised that we don’t fit together.”
Draco took a deep breath and swallowed his heart again, which had jumped so high that he could feel it pondering in his throat. “Apparently you haven’t realised that she left you yet,” said Draco coldly and put his wand away, turning to face Ron, who, on closer inspection, looked as though he had not slept well for a long time. But that was not Draco’s problem. Draco’s problem was that he had an affectionate Weasel, who could not realise that life went on. People changed, or adapted themselves to new circumstances, in the case of Draco, but they did not regret bygone times. Ron should follow that example.
“Is that so clear?” Ron asked, rubbing his weary eyes which made Draco chuckle. He had seen the dark circles often lately, but never paid them much attention. Ron and his Mudblood had always fought, hurting each other with words, getting personal and bringing up long-dead issues. The final fight had been unavoidable, and Draco could not deny that a small part hoped that Ron finally realised that not making up again would be so much easier, but a bigger part told him that he did not care - that he should not care…
“Of course it’s clear. It’s written in your face and you aren’t even standing more than two inches away from me; Weasley, I can count your freckles,” Draco said and gently shoved Ron away from him, moving purposefully towards a shelf in the right corner of the shop.
“That’s an impossible task, believe me,” said Ron in an amused tone.
“Yes, because I don’t even want to search your whole body for those things,” Draco said, grinning at Ron who stepped beside him with a snort.
“I just wanted to…” Ron paused as Draco pressed a phial into his hand.
“Something so that you can sleep better? From the circles under your eyes I could guess that,” Draco said, enjoying that Ron seemed annoyed and that for once Draco was the one again who was dealing out blows. “I get…”
“A few tips regarding your Daddy?” Ron interrupted, pointing to the documents on the counter while Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Stay out of my business, Weasel. You’re only searching for a way to put my father behind bars for life,” Draco hissed angrily, pushing Ron out of his way and trying to step back behind the counter, but long fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back.
“He’s going to receive a life sentence anyway. There’s nothing you can do about it,” muttered Ron right into Draco’s ear, so that Draco could only catch his breath. “If you’re interested, the Wizengamot already knows exactly how they’ll get him.”
Draco slowly turned his head over his shoulder and lowered his eyes when he nearly got Ron’s nose into his face. “Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to discourage me, or are you giving me a hint?” he asked in a hoarse voice and half-heartedly tried to get his arm out of Ron’s grip but the warm fingers only tightened their hold. Draco tensed as Ron whirled him around so that they stood chest to chest, which he probably only did to humiliate Draco with forcing him to look up. The size difference between them made Draco always feel like a girl, and Ron’s way to treat him did not change that at all, even though Draco felt more like a toy.
“You appear to forget that my ex-girlfriend is working closely together with the Wizengamot. If she wants to forget important documents in my apartment, I certainly won’t send them to her,” Ron said between clenched teeth. The glowing flames of anger in the blue irises made Draco’s heart beat unusually fast, even though the dogged expression was not one that suited Ron well. These slight thoughts of revenge made Ron somehow attractive. Draco had not dared to think that Ron visited him for other reasons than nostalgia, but now it was clearly revenge and Draco liked that. Revenge would not make them friends, but they might become more than… than whatever they were at the moment.
“When did you change into a Slytherin, Weasley?” Draco smirked, watching sceptically as Ron put the phial Draco had given him to the nearest shelf. “You want… You seriously want to help me, because your girlfriend left you? After all, it was clear that this would happen sooner or later.”
“And when did you change into a bloody Hufflepuff that you don’t take advantage of that opportunity?” Ron wanted to know, placing his free hand on Draco’s hip. Surprised, Draco’s eyes darted down to the slightly shaking hand on his body. Whatever Ron was doing there, he did not seem to feel utterly comfortable in doing so.
“I still only do what’s the best for me. And after the War, it’s best that nobody notice me anymore,” said Draco, once again trying to free his hand from Ron’s grip, but instead he was only dragged closer against the other chest. Draco gasped and moved his head away as Ron leaned over, so that he not only touched Ron’s nose this time but also his lips. “Weasley, you don’t want to make your girlfriend pay with starting something with the guy that she cannot stand, right?”
Ron’s ears turned bright red again, but his calm voice did not give a single hint whether he was embarrassed or not. “Am I so easy to see through?” It was harder to read Ron now, to provoke a fight, because Granger had tried to turn him into a perfect man, not noticing that he was unable to fit into her little bookworm-world. Draco could only snort whenever he saw the two of them together, walking hand in hand in their daily happy ending after they just nearly broke up because of a bagatelle. They did not fit together. It made Draco so incredibly angry that Ron was too stupid to notice that.
“Are you a Weasel, or not? Of course you are easy to see through.” Draco pressed his free hand against Ron’s chest in defence. “Stop this nonsense. I have to work.”
“It’s raining cats and dogs; nobody will come anyway,” Ron said, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the deserted streets.
“Especially when it rains more people will come, because they caught a cold,” Draco replied, still feeling the bitter cold of the rain in his bones. Actually, he had nothing against a bit of physical warmth now, but basically he was already much closer to Ron Weasley than he could normally allow himself.
“They might come tomorrow, because they still need to catch their cold today. And it rains so often in England that everybody’s inured anyway,” Ron said, looking Draco directly into the eyes. “You’re trembling like a leaf, so you’ll probably catch a cold yourself… or are you trembling for other reasons?”
“No,” Draco said coldly. “By the way, have you been drinking?”
“No, but I’ve read a book about seduction a few years ago,” Ron said, grinning. Apparently, he was really able to ignore his burning red ears, while Draco found them utterly amusing.
“That was a bad book,” Draco chuckled, but he slowly stopped his attempts to dislodge Ron.
“It’s taught me that you have to make less efforts the more desperate the subject is,” Ron said, proving that he was still the personification of insensitivity.
“I’m not desperate - especially not in this respect!” Draco snorted and shoved Ron brusquely away. “Get out now, Weasley. You don’t need to pay…”
“Who assures me that this isn’t poison?” Ron’s approaching footsteps made Draco whirl on the spot, fearlessly facing the look of the blue eyes. In contrast to Draco himself, Ron was still pretty soaked, and with the slightly flushed cheeks he almost looked like a lost dog that waited outside in the rain for its owner to let him in again. Nevertheless, Draco could not believe that Ron wanted something other than distraction for a change. He was always annoying Draco when he had trouble at work or with his girlfriend, and Draco had learned to deal with Ron’s frustration, although he had absolutely no idea why. What he knew for sure was that he did not want to end up as Ron’s friend and then someday would have to attend the wedding, giving a speech and eventually snogging Ron’s gay dragon keeper brother under the table in sheer desperation.
“The poison is over there,” Draco said, pointing to the locked shelf, which was also protected by various protection spells against people on a tight budget - because the Ministry thought that would prevent people from killing each other. “If you’d rather kill yourself, instead of playing games with me.”
“I am not playing games with you, Malfoy!” Ron burst out. Draco slightly winced. “I offered my help, I’m attempting to be nice to you and you think I’m playing games? If you haven’t noticed, I have also grown up, eventually.”
“It’s very grown-up to suddenly try to hit on me, just because your girlfriend left you,” Draco muttered, turning around to take shelter behind his counter, but Ron followed him, planting himself opposite to Draco and slamming his clenched fists forcefully right next to Draco’s files.
“Suddenly?” Ron splashed Draco accidentally as he vigorously shook his head, but Draco’s disgusted look did not keep Ron from making a fool out of himself. “I’ve been chasing after you for months, and the way you respond to me - well, I’ve thought you’d noticed it! Or do you ask every person constantly if he stares at your bloody arse?”
Draco blinked in surprise and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t mean that seriously. Still… You must be joking, Weasel.” He laughed hoarsely and abruptly fell silent as Ron grabbed his collar. Before Draco could do more than catch his breath, Ron had pulled him over the counter and into a hard kiss.
Draco clung helplessly to Ron’s biceps as he tried to keep the other tongue out of his mouth. However, it felt too good to finally feel other lips on his again, so that Draco could not resist any longer and finally opened his mouth slightly. Ron entangled his hands in Draco’s hair and pulled him even closer, almost pulling him over the entire counter as he tried to deepen the kiss. Draco’s muffled protest caused him to stop and eventually step back.
Draco licked his kiss-bruised lips and looked into Ron’s sparkling eyes, letting his gaze slowly wander over the flushed face downwards where Ron’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Goose bumps spread over Draco’s heated skin as Ron ran his hands over his shoulders and gently pushed him to the side.
“Come here,” Ron whispered, and Draco moved around the corner of the counter, slowly approaching Ron. He could feel Ron’s erratic breath skating over his skin as he was pressed against the wood at his back. For a moment Ron just looked at Draco and seemed to wait for some reaction, but Draco could do no more than enjoy the warmth spreading through his entire body and increasing the longer he felt Ron so close to him.
Ron licked his lips before he pressed them against Draco’s mouth again; this time very carefully trying to savour every touch. Draco clung to Ron’s shoulders, digging his fingers deeper with each second their kiss lasted, until he thought he could feel not just the tensed muscles but Ron’s bones through the thick layer of clothes. Draco really noticed the true magnitude of Ron’s hands for the first time as he felt them on his back, sliding deeper until they grabbed his arse.
Gasping, Draco wrapped his arms around Ron’s neck and tightened his grip as he was lifted up. Realising that any minute somebody could enter the Apothecary, Draco turned his head to the side in protest, but that could not prevent Ron from spreading Draco’s legs so he could step between them to reduce the distance between them even more.
“That’s…” Ron was not interested in Draco’s words at all and rather kissed his neck instead of listening to him, leaving red bruises that Draco felt prickling so intensely that he thought he would never get rid of the marks. “Ronald…”
“Draco?” Ron looked at him, his hands already sliding under Draco’s shirt. “You give me a potion so that I can sleep better, but nothing to make me feel warmer again? Don’t you think that’s rude?”
“Don’t you think it’s rude to just take it, then?” Draco muttered and immediately regretted his words, because shortly afterwards Ron pulled his hands away. He already missed the warmth and the feeling of security, missed all the things he could never have.
“I’m doing you a favour,” Ron said, leaning closer to Draco and brushing strands of white-blond hair out of his face. “How long has it been since you had a day off? I’ll give you one…”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You cannot afford that at all.”
“Really?” Ron grabbed Draco’s chin, while his other hand tenderly stroked over Draco’s thigh and moved far too high, but was still lingering too low. “I thought it would be a reasonable price.”
“Do you want to play whore, Weasley?” Draco snorted and pushed Ron away, though it was incredibly hard. He had still a part of his dignity and would not be defiled on a counter only because his body was longing for human touch. “Go away…” Draco tried to slide off the counter but Ron stopped him, his blue eyes focused on him so stubbornly that Draco wanted to shift his gaze away.
“Do you want the documents of the Wizengamot, or not?” Ron asked and sounded strangely cold, which did not suit him at all.
Draco frowned at him, wishing that he could cross his legs instead of presenting himself so vulnerably. “So you want me to play the whore, Weasley? Are you insane?” Draco asked indignantly. “Why are you doing that?”
“Because I want you,” Ron said as if it was crystal clear.
Draco blushed and looked down at Ron’s quickly heaving chest. He took a deep breath to capture every nuance of alcohol that might be in the air but there was nothing else than the smell of rain. He could not deny that it had sometimes been very close to flirting when he had spoken to Ron, but that Ron could really want him was something Draco had never considered - just as little as he had thought about wanting Ron.
“Anything else?” Draco looked up to Ron’s suddenly perplexed face again. “Ronald, spit it out. What do you really want? Don’t try to play with me. I’m still a Slytherin, and -”
“And that’s why you’re thinking too much,” Ron blurted out. “It’s… like chess. You’re thinking three steps ahead, although I’m here now! And… if you really want to know…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not good at these things. I thought it would be different. I thought I could come and tell you that I and Hermione broke up. When I mentioned that she’d forgotten something that might help your father, you wouldn’t think that I wanted to take revenge on her by giving you those documents. You would’ve slowly started to trust me… to like me… But…” Ron sighed heavily while Draco was staring at him out of big eyes. “You looked so… incredibly beautiful that I couldn’t think of anything else than kissing you. I forgot my whole plan!”
Draco felt heat rising in his cheeks, and he quickly looked away before Ron could humiliate him with a knowing grin. “Half of that I could guess,” Draco said, embarrassed. He blinked hastily as Ron bent closer again. “But the last part… surprised me.” Draco turned his head again and immediately felt Ron’s mouth on his lips, hungrily kissing him.
The kiss tasted like paradise, like everything Draco believed he would not find after the War. It was difficult for him to pull away from Ron’s mouth, which made him feel better than Felix Felicis could ever do.
“I can’t do this,” Draco breathed, gulping hard as he met Ron’s puzzled gaze. “I might have… if it had been one time, but…”
“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand,” Ron said. “Why do you think am I here after my girlfriend broke up with me?”
“I’m not stupid, but that doesn’t change anything. Please leave,” Draco said, pressing his hands hard against Ron’s chest. “And don’t forget your potion…”
“You just kissed me,” Ron said, shaking his head as if he could not believe anything Draco said. “What’s wrong with you? This is not just a mood thing!”
“Yes, and that’s the reason why you have to leave,” Draco said, slipping off the counter. Ron stumbled backwards and away from Draco, who walked casually behind the counter and started to sort his files. He focused his eyes on the parchments, trying not to give into the urge to look back at Ron, who made a strange noise somewhere between chuckling and gurgling.
“I… I’ll come back tomorrow,” Ron said, determined, but as Draco looked up his ears had become as red as his hair.
“It will be a busy day for me. A lot of customers with a cold,” Draco said and flashed Ron a short smile. “I would appreciate those documents, Ronald. Thank you.”
Ron stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then turned on the spot and disappeared in swirl of robes. It seemed like he wanted nothing more than running outside and let the rain cool his blush, and Draco wanted nothing more than to beg Ron to return to him and finish what he started.
But it would be a waste of time to start something he could not enjoy…
Draco sighed and looked at his left forearm, slowly rolling up his sleeve. The Dark Mark was barely visible and with each day it faded more, but the dark colour would never disappear, instead it painted Draco’s veins pitch-black and slowly moved through his body. The black poison was the Dark Lord’s revenge and it would drag all Death Eaters into death.
Draco could feel the poison burning his inside. He could feel it moving higher, already reaching his elbow and climbing up his arm, slashing its way through until it would finally get to his heart. And his heart was going to break when he started a serious relationship now that could only last a few months, maybe years if he was lucky. But during that time he had a full plate, including Lucius’ release from Azkaban and maybe research in terms of the mysterious black poison that did not just try to kill him, it also destroyed his life.
Draco tried to shake off the warmth of Ron’s body he could still feel, but the memories of his touch lingered the whole day on his mind. The taste of Ron’s kiss made his situation even harder to take, because it made him happy again.
Finis
LJ username: Anonymous
Team: Anonymous
Prompt: Poison
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Notes: AU, takes place several years after the War. Thank you so much to my betas! :)
Word count: 4,278
Disclaimer: All sexual activity portrayed in this fic is between two consenting adults who are at least 18 years of age. I do not own any of the characters.
A Taste of Paradise
Doing several things at the same time had never been a strong point of Draco, especially not, when he was in a hurry. Draco had thought he would manage it to get inside before it started to rain but apparently he had thought wrong. The pelting rain had already destroyed his hairstyle, but he could fix that again once he was in the Apothecary - what he might not be able to save were the files he had just picked up at the Ministry. If the release of his father from Azkaban was destroyed by something like rain, Draco would never forgive himself. After all, his father had nobody else who would take care of this legal stuff, let alone had Draco someone who would help him to understand the paragraphs.
All Draco had left after the War was a faded tattoo on his left forearm. After he had already lost all of his friends, he would not risk never seeing the last blood relative he cared about again.
Draco slid around a corner and promptly bumped into another man, dropping all of his files and disgracing himself with slumping down on his backside directly into a puddle of mud. Groaning, he quickly tried to save his parchments from being soaked completely and silently prayed that he would be able to dry the wet papers while he let the man, who knelt down beside him, verbally pay for getting him into this mess.
“Are you blind, for Merlin’s sake?!” Draco shoved the pale, freckled hand away before it could touch his parchments. Sniffling because of the cold and rain, Draco pressed the drenched files against his chest and looked into the face of the man for the first time, whereupon his eyes widened in surprise.
“Polite as ever, Malfoy,” muttered Ronald Weasley, shaking his head disapprovingly, which made Draco snort. Wiping his face dry with his sleeve, Draco straightened up and held the files protectively under his cloak as he looked at Ron. His red hair was so wet from the rain that it had become an ordinary brown colour causing Draco not to recognise him immediately. However, the piercing blue eyes were unmistakable and made Draco quickly shift his gaze away.
“Sorry,” Draco answered reluctantly because he could still imagine better things than being too kind to the Weasel. However, he could not afford to risk Ron saying anything bad about him at the Ministry - because he knew Ron would certainly love doing that. “I was in a hurry. My opening hours always overlap exactly with the appointments that I get from the Ministry.” He gave Ron an irritated look, biting back a comment that Ron would never have become an Auror without Potter’s help and then he could not show off like that.
“And I thought I had to wait this long because you were standing in front of the mirror, Malfoy,” Ron said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and following Draco, who walked straight to the only shop in Diagon Alley that was still closed but Ron was the only one waiting outside in the tumultuous rain. “You have dirt on your butt.”
Draco whirled around. “Oh, I didn’t notice! How unlikely after you fall into a puddle of mud,” he admitted full of sarcasm but with a sweet smile, which apparently amused Ron. “Thanks, Weasley, but you don’t need an excuse to stare at my arse.” He turned around again before Ron was even able to raise his eyebrows. Draco’s chilly manner sadly did not make Ron leave.
“So, you already heard it?” Ron asked, receiving a puzzled look from Draco who had not a single clue what Ron was talking about. Still, Ron did not seem to think that it was necessary to make it clearer what he wanted from Draco and just followed him on the doorstep of the Apothecary. The rain was dashing on Draco’s pale face and ran straight into his collar as he bent down to search for his wand in his pocket.
“That you always try to make excuses whenever you’re staring at my arse?” Draco frowned distractedly at Ron, just looking away as Ron’s ears had turned scarlet. “You did that constantly in school, but I can’t blame you for it.”
“Always the same old story,” Ron sighed, zealous to stay calm, although it was obvious that he clenched his hands into fists. The Weasel was Draco’s only remaining victim from past days, but sometimes he found it anything but funny that Ron seemed to literally chase him just to hear some insults for which Draco was simply not in the right mood. Maybe it was nostalgia, perhaps even the opportunity to see Draco’s miserable life and give him back what he had done to Ron during their years in Hogwarts.
“If you, for a change, want something that I can actually give you, then say it straight out,” Draco said, pushing the door open and turning the open sign around before he put his files on the counter in the back of the Apothecary. Underneath him the carpet became slowly soaking wet, but Draco put his whole attention on the files first and dried them magically, while Ron looked around in the small room, frowning now and then whenever he discovered a few potions, which he disliked - either because of their effect or ingredients.
“You’re dripping,” Ron said finally, after he had sneaked behind the counter to glance over Draco’s shoulder. He simply ignored that he was soaked to the bone, too, eyes stubbornly focused on Draco, who thought in a haze of confusion that Ron looked rather like a hungry lion. Draco was not sure if he wanted to be his prey. “Shall I rub you warm or do you want me to think about a different method to make you stop freezing?”
“I prefer anything to being rubbed by you,” Draco hissed, trying to suppress a shiver as Ron dried him with his wand. It felt better, much warmer, and the heat of the body at his back was a pleasant feeling, but Draco did not want the Weasel to know that and muttered coldly: “Thanks.”
“Too bad, as I’m single again,” Ron whispered close to Draco’s ear, causing goose bumps to blossom over his entire body. “You really haven’t heard it yet, Malfoy? And I’ve been wondering why you still haven’t made fun of the fact that Hermione has finally realised that we don’t fit together.”
Draco took a deep breath and swallowed his heart again, which had jumped so high that he could feel it pondering in his throat. “Apparently you haven’t realised that she left you yet,” said Draco coldly and put his wand away, turning to face Ron, who, on closer inspection, looked as though he had not slept well for a long time. But that was not Draco’s problem. Draco’s problem was that he had an affectionate Weasel, who could not realise that life went on. People changed, or adapted themselves to new circumstances, in the case of Draco, but they did not regret bygone times. Ron should follow that example.
“Is that so clear?” Ron asked, rubbing his weary eyes which made Draco chuckle. He had seen the dark circles often lately, but never paid them much attention. Ron and his Mudblood had always fought, hurting each other with words, getting personal and bringing up long-dead issues. The final fight had been unavoidable, and Draco could not deny that a small part hoped that Ron finally realised that not making up again would be so much easier, but a bigger part told him that he did not care - that he should not care…
“Of course it’s clear. It’s written in your face and you aren’t even standing more than two inches away from me; Weasley, I can count your freckles,” Draco said and gently shoved Ron away from him, moving purposefully towards a shelf in the right corner of the shop.
“That’s an impossible task, believe me,” said Ron in an amused tone.
“Yes, because I don’t even want to search your whole body for those things,” Draco said, grinning at Ron who stepped beside him with a snort.
“I just wanted to…” Ron paused as Draco pressed a phial into his hand.
“Something so that you can sleep better? From the circles under your eyes I could guess that,” Draco said, enjoying that Ron seemed annoyed and that for once Draco was the one again who was dealing out blows. “I get…”
“A few tips regarding your Daddy?” Ron interrupted, pointing to the documents on the counter while Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Stay out of my business, Weasel. You’re only searching for a way to put my father behind bars for life,” Draco hissed angrily, pushing Ron out of his way and trying to step back behind the counter, but long fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back.
“He’s going to receive a life sentence anyway. There’s nothing you can do about it,” muttered Ron right into Draco’s ear, so that Draco could only catch his breath. “If you’re interested, the Wizengamot already knows exactly how they’ll get him.”
Draco slowly turned his head over his shoulder and lowered his eyes when he nearly got Ron’s nose into his face. “Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to discourage me, or are you giving me a hint?” he asked in a hoarse voice and half-heartedly tried to get his arm out of Ron’s grip but the warm fingers only tightened their hold. Draco tensed as Ron whirled him around so that they stood chest to chest, which he probably only did to humiliate Draco with forcing him to look up. The size difference between them made Draco always feel like a girl, and Ron’s way to treat him did not change that at all, even though Draco felt more like a toy.
“You appear to forget that my ex-girlfriend is working closely together with the Wizengamot. If she wants to forget important documents in my apartment, I certainly won’t send them to her,” Ron said between clenched teeth. The glowing flames of anger in the blue irises made Draco’s heart beat unusually fast, even though the dogged expression was not one that suited Ron well. These slight thoughts of revenge made Ron somehow attractive. Draco had not dared to think that Ron visited him for other reasons than nostalgia, but now it was clearly revenge and Draco liked that. Revenge would not make them friends, but they might become more than… than whatever they were at the moment.
“When did you change into a Slytherin, Weasley?” Draco smirked, watching sceptically as Ron put the phial Draco had given him to the nearest shelf. “You want… You seriously want to help me, because your girlfriend left you? After all, it was clear that this would happen sooner or later.”
“And when did you change into a bloody Hufflepuff that you don’t take advantage of that opportunity?” Ron wanted to know, placing his free hand on Draco’s hip. Surprised, Draco’s eyes darted down to the slightly shaking hand on his body. Whatever Ron was doing there, he did not seem to feel utterly comfortable in doing so.
“I still only do what’s the best for me. And after the War, it’s best that nobody notice me anymore,” said Draco, once again trying to free his hand from Ron’s grip, but instead he was only dragged closer against the other chest. Draco gasped and moved his head away as Ron leaned over, so that he not only touched Ron’s nose this time but also his lips. “Weasley, you don’t want to make your girlfriend pay with starting something with the guy that she cannot stand, right?”
Ron’s ears turned bright red again, but his calm voice did not give a single hint whether he was embarrassed or not. “Am I so easy to see through?” It was harder to read Ron now, to provoke a fight, because Granger had tried to turn him into a perfect man, not noticing that he was unable to fit into her little bookworm-world. Draco could only snort whenever he saw the two of them together, walking hand in hand in their daily happy ending after they just nearly broke up because of a bagatelle. They did not fit together. It made Draco so incredibly angry that Ron was too stupid to notice that.
“Are you a Weasel, or not? Of course you are easy to see through.” Draco pressed his free hand against Ron’s chest in defence. “Stop this nonsense. I have to work.”
“It’s raining cats and dogs; nobody will come anyway,” Ron said, throwing a glance over his shoulder to the deserted streets.
“Especially when it rains more people will come, because they caught a cold,” Draco replied, still feeling the bitter cold of the rain in his bones. Actually, he had nothing against a bit of physical warmth now, but basically he was already much closer to Ron Weasley than he could normally allow himself.
“They might come tomorrow, because they still need to catch their cold today. And it rains so often in England that everybody’s inured anyway,” Ron said, looking Draco directly into the eyes. “You’re trembling like a leaf, so you’ll probably catch a cold yourself… or are you trembling for other reasons?”
“No,” Draco said coldly. “By the way, have you been drinking?”
“No, but I’ve read a book about seduction a few years ago,” Ron said, grinning. Apparently, he was really able to ignore his burning red ears, while Draco found them utterly amusing.
“That was a bad book,” Draco chuckled, but he slowly stopped his attempts to dislodge Ron.
“It’s taught me that you have to make less efforts the more desperate the subject is,” Ron said, proving that he was still the personification of insensitivity.
“I’m not desperate - especially not in this respect!” Draco snorted and shoved Ron brusquely away. “Get out now, Weasley. You don’t need to pay…”
“Who assures me that this isn’t poison?” Ron’s approaching footsteps made Draco whirl on the spot, fearlessly facing the look of the blue eyes. In contrast to Draco himself, Ron was still pretty soaked, and with the slightly flushed cheeks he almost looked like a lost dog that waited outside in the rain for its owner to let him in again. Nevertheless, Draco could not believe that Ron wanted something other than distraction for a change. He was always annoying Draco when he had trouble at work or with his girlfriend, and Draco had learned to deal with Ron’s frustration, although he had absolutely no idea why. What he knew for sure was that he did not want to end up as Ron’s friend and then someday would have to attend the wedding, giving a speech and eventually snogging Ron’s gay dragon keeper brother under the table in sheer desperation.
“The poison is over there,” Draco said, pointing to the locked shelf, which was also protected by various protection spells against people on a tight budget - because the Ministry thought that would prevent people from killing each other. “If you’d rather kill yourself, instead of playing games with me.”
“I am not playing games with you, Malfoy!” Ron burst out. Draco slightly winced. “I offered my help, I’m attempting to be nice to you and you think I’m playing games? If you haven’t noticed, I have also grown up, eventually.”
“It’s very grown-up to suddenly try to hit on me, just because your girlfriend left you,” Draco muttered, turning around to take shelter behind his counter, but Ron followed him, planting himself opposite to Draco and slamming his clenched fists forcefully right next to Draco’s files.
“Suddenly?” Ron splashed Draco accidentally as he vigorously shook his head, but Draco’s disgusted look did not keep Ron from making a fool out of himself. “I’ve been chasing after you for months, and the way you respond to me - well, I’ve thought you’d noticed it! Or do you ask every person constantly if he stares at your bloody arse?”
Draco blinked in surprise and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t mean that seriously. Still… You must be joking, Weasel.” He laughed hoarsely and abruptly fell silent as Ron grabbed his collar. Before Draco could do more than catch his breath, Ron had pulled him over the counter and into a hard kiss.
Draco clung helplessly to Ron’s biceps as he tried to keep the other tongue out of his mouth. However, it felt too good to finally feel other lips on his again, so that Draco could not resist any longer and finally opened his mouth slightly. Ron entangled his hands in Draco’s hair and pulled him even closer, almost pulling him over the entire counter as he tried to deepen the kiss. Draco’s muffled protest caused him to stop and eventually step back.
Draco licked his kiss-bruised lips and looked into Ron’s sparkling eyes, letting his gaze slowly wander over the flushed face downwards where Ron’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Goose bumps spread over Draco’s heated skin as Ron ran his hands over his shoulders and gently pushed him to the side.
“Come here,” Ron whispered, and Draco moved around the corner of the counter, slowly approaching Ron. He could feel Ron’s erratic breath skating over his skin as he was pressed against the wood at his back. For a moment Ron just looked at Draco and seemed to wait for some reaction, but Draco could do no more than enjoy the warmth spreading through his entire body and increasing the longer he felt Ron so close to him.
Ron licked his lips before he pressed them against Draco’s mouth again; this time very carefully trying to savour every touch. Draco clung to Ron’s shoulders, digging his fingers deeper with each second their kiss lasted, until he thought he could feel not just the tensed muscles but Ron’s bones through the thick layer of clothes. Draco really noticed the true magnitude of Ron’s hands for the first time as he felt them on his back, sliding deeper until they grabbed his arse.
Gasping, Draco wrapped his arms around Ron’s neck and tightened his grip as he was lifted up. Realising that any minute somebody could enter the Apothecary, Draco turned his head to the side in protest, but that could not prevent Ron from spreading Draco’s legs so he could step between them to reduce the distance between them even more.
“That’s…” Ron was not interested in Draco’s words at all and rather kissed his neck instead of listening to him, leaving red bruises that Draco felt prickling so intensely that he thought he would never get rid of the marks. “Ronald…”
“Draco?” Ron looked at him, his hands already sliding under Draco’s shirt. “You give me a potion so that I can sleep better, but nothing to make me feel warmer again? Don’t you think that’s rude?”
“Don’t you think it’s rude to just take it, then?” Draco muttered and immediately regretted his words, because shortly afterwards Ron pulled his hands away. He already missed the warmth and the feeling of security, missed all the things he could never have.
“I’m doing you a favour,” Ron said, leaning closer to Draco and brushing strands of white-blond hair out of his face. “How long has it been since you had a day off? I’ll give you one…”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You cannot afford that at all.”
“Really?” Ron grabbed Draco’s chin, while his other hand tenderly stroked over Draco’s thigh and moved far too high, but was still lingering too low. “I thought it would be a reasonable price.”
“Do you want to play whore, Weasley?” Draco snorted and pushed Ron away, though it was incredibly hard. He had still a part of his dignity and would not be defiled on a counter only because his body was longing for human touch. “Go away…” Draco tried to slide off the counter but Ron stopped him, his blue eyes focused on him so stubbornly that Draco wanted to shift his gaze away.
“Do you want the documents of the Wizengamot, or not?” Ron asked and sounded strangely cold, which did not suit him at all.
Draco frowned at him, wishing that he could cross his legs instead of presenting himself so vulnerably. “So you want me to play the whore, Weasley? Are you insane?” Draco asked indignantly. “Why are you doing that?”
“Because I want you,” Ron said as if it was crystal clear.
Draco blushed and looked down at Ron’s quickly heaving chest. He took a deep breath to capture every nuance of alcohol that might be in the air but there was nothing else than the smell of rain. He could not deny that it had sometimes been very close to flirting when he had spoken to Ron, but that Ron could really want him was something Draco had never considered - just as little as he had thought about wanting Ron.
“Anything else?” Draco looked up to Ron’s suddenly perplexed face again. “Ronald, spit it out. What do you really want? Don’t try to play with me. I’m still a Slytherin, and -”
“And that’s why you’re thinking too much,” Ron blurted out. “It’s… like chess. You’re thinking three steps ahead, although I’m here now! And… if you really want to know…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not good at these things. I thought it would be different. I thought I could come and tell you that I and Hermione broke up. When I mentioned that she’d forgotten something that might help your father, you wouldn’t think that I wanted to take revenge on her by giving you those documents. You would’ve slowly started to trust me… to like me… But…” Ron sighed heavily while Draco was staring at him out of big eyes. “You looked so… incredibly beautiful that I couldn’t think of anything else than kissing you. I forgot my whole plan!”
Draco felt heat rising in his cheeks, and he quickly looked away before Ron could humiliate him with a knowing grin. “Half of that I could guess,” Draco said, embarrassed. He blinked hastily as Ron bent closer again. “But the last part… surprised me.” Draco turned his head again and immediately felt Ron’s mouth on his lips, hungrily kissing him.
The kiss tasted like paradise, like everything Draco believed he would not find after the War. It was difficult for him to pull away from Ron’s mouth, which made him feel better than Felix Felicis could ever do.
“I can’t do this,” Draco breathed, gulping hard as he met Ron’s puzzled gaze. “I might have… if it had been one time, but…”
“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand,” Ron said. “Why do you think am I here after my girlfriend broke up with me?”
“I’m not stupid, but that doesn’t change anything. Please leave,” Draco said, pressing his hands hard against Ron’s chest. “And don’t forget your potion…”
“You just kissed me,” Ron said, shaking his head as if he could not believe anything Draco said. “What’s wrong with you? This is not just a mood thing!”
“Yes, and that’s the reason why you have to leave,” Draco said, slipping off the counter. Ron stumbled backwards and away from Draco, who walked casually behind the counter and started to sort his files. He focused his eyes on the parchments, trying not to give into the urge to look back at Ron, who made a strange noise somewhere between chuckling and gurgling.
“I… I’ll come back tomorrow,” Ron said, determined, but as Draco looked up his ears had become as red as his hair.
“It will be a busy day for me. A lot of customers with a cold,” Draco said and flashed Ron a short smile. “I would appreciate those documents, Ronald. Thank you.”
Ron stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then turned on the spot and disappeared in swirl of robes. It seemed like he wanted nothing more than running outside and let the rain cool his blush, and Draco wanted nothing more than to beg Ron to return to him and finish what he started.
But it would be a waste of time to start something he could not enjoy…
Draco sighed and looked at his left forearm, slowly rolling up his sleeve. The Dark Mark was barely visible and with each day it faded more, but the dark colour would never disappear, instead it painted Draco’s veins pitch-black and slowly moved through his body. The black poison was the Dark Lord’s revenge and it would drag all Death Eaters into death.
Draco could feel the poison burning his inside. He could feel it moving higher, already reaching his elbow and climbing up his arm, slashing its way through until it would finally get to his heart. And his heart was going to break when he started a serious relationship now that could only last a few months, maybe years if he was lucky. But during that time he had a full plate, including Lucius’ release from Azkaban and maybe research in terms of the mysterious black poison that did not just try to kill him, it also destroyed his life.
Draco tried to shake off the warmth of Ron’s body he could still feel, but the memories of his touch lingered the whole day on his mind. The taste of Ron’s kiss made his situation even harder to take, because it made him happy again.
Finis