Happy Belated Birthday marguerite_26!
Title: Everybody Get Dangerous
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: aislinntlc
Pairing: Draco/Teddy
Length: ~1,100
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings/Kinks: Club!Fic, Vampire!Fic, Cross!Gen, Smexing, and slightly dubious morals :D
Summary: But really, Teddy knew what Draco was and had continued throwing himself at Draco given half a chance, so Draco reckoned he was safe taking what he wanted.
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #21 Dangerous from my 100quills Next Generation Table. The title is a Weezer song.
Happy Belated Birthday marguerite_26!
Even if he hadn't been able to smell the night's target across the club, Draco could never have missed him. The bright blue Mohican made sure Teddy stood out, a beacon of light in the mass of writing dancers.
Draco hated the clubs; the thumping base was amplified by his advanced hearing, and he heard every single note as though the speakers were pressed to his ears. And the smell of all that blood, pumping and rushing through youthful veins, was almost enough to make him lose control. He had to swallow compulsively to keep from drooling down his chin; all this food in such a confined space was almost cruel in its temptation.
Sliding easily through the dancers, Draco rested his hand on Teddy's arm. "Interesting hair style."
"Draco! You came!" Teddy was yelling to be heard over the music, clearly forgetting that he could whisper, and Draco would hear every word.
An unfortunate accident according to the Ministry - Draco called it sabotage - infected blood had found its way into his morning coffee two years ago, turning him into the mythical creature of the night. At least it guaranteed the Ministry could never fire him, or refuse his demands for a raise - if it got out that they'd let someone poison a man found innocent in the post-war trials, there'd be hell to pay. But Draco had needs, and his latest intern had spent so much time flinging himself at Draco that Draco felt it would be rude not to take what he wanted from Teddy.
"I love this club, don't you?"
"Oh, absolutely." Draco held back on rolling his eyes when his sarcasm was missed, and Teddy just grinned at him. The poor boy had clearly inherited the idiocy that had seen his parents killed scant seconds after he'd popped into the world. Draco supposed he should feel sympathy, but he was a vampire, he had no soul. And even if he did have a soul, he was a Malfoy. He wouldn't know how to use it, and its associated conscience.
Teddy was making a motion at him, and Draco nodded, more to get them away from the speakers before his head exploded than because he had any idea what Teddy was suggesting. But Teddy let him to the bar, and Draco pulled a few galleons from his pocket, tossing them on the bar and motioning for two firewhiskys. Flashing money was always a winner with Draco's preferred courses; at twenty they were just starting to earn some money, and were entranced by it, and anyone who possessed it in quantities.
Not that Draco couldn't just focus his mind, retreat into his senses, and let his enticing thrall envelop them and draw them closer to him. But that always seemed so lazy. Draco liked the chase; it made the success taste much sweeter.
Teddy had already downed his whisky, so Draco followed suit. Tipping his head towards a secluded corner, Draco led Teddy into the shadows, backing Teddy against the wall so that Draco's body shielded them from view. In the shadows, Teddy's hair didn't stand out, didn't draw attention to them. Before Draco could properly assess the situation, Teddy had flung himself forwards and crushed his lips against Draco's. Fighting the urge to recoil from the sudden attack, Draco brought his hands up and cupped Teddy's face, making the touch feel tender even as he used it to control Teddy and make the kiss slightly more enjoyable for himself.
It would never stop surprising him, how a little mystery, a little dark affliction, could make boys and girls from twelve to twenty-five flock to him like bees to honey. Perhaps it was hormonal, tied into puberty, and the teenage need to rebel from what was good and proper. The same reason scores of witches and wizards his son's age wore black eyeliner and wrote poems about death.
As Teddy pulled back for air, Draco paused a moment to reconsider his options. He tended to gravitate to witches and wizards he didn't know; Teddy was a high-profile conquest. But really, Teddy knew what Draco was and had continued throwing himself at Draco given half a chance, so Draco reckoned he was safe taking what he wanted. He still had all the filthy notes Teddy had left on his desk, just in case he needed to defend himself. Teddy was asking for it.
"Do you want to come back to mine?"
Shaking his head, Draco grabbed Teddy's shoulders and turned him around, pressing him against the wall. "What's wrong with right here?"
Teddy tensed, but Draco wasn't stopping now. He could feel the lust rising in his body, making his head fuzzy and his mouth dry. He wanted, and Teddy smelt so sweet it was killing him. Reaching his hand around, Draco deftly undid Teddy's jeans and slipped his hand into Teddy's pants. He wasn't surprised to find Teddy hard - Draco tended to have that effect on people - and as he curled his fingers around Teddy's shaft and started stroking up and down slowly, he lamented his inability to get aroused anymore. This would be much more fun on a large bed, driving into Teddy's arse before he took what he wanted. But no heartbeat meant no blood flow, which wasn't exactly conducive to an erection.
"Your hand's so warm," Teddy muttered, his head pressed against the wall and his arse pressing back against Draco.
Draco smirked; just once he'd tried to do this without putting a warming charm over his skin, and had ruined the moment when the poor boy jolted away from him, eyes watering and lips jabbering about ice and cold. Another unfortunate side effect of having no pulse.
Resting his cheek against the back of Teddy's neck, Draco closed his eyes and zoned the rest of the club out, focusing just on Teddy's heartbeat, tantalisingly close. He listened to each beat, waited as they got quicker and harder, speeding up his hand to match pace. Teddy would thank him in the morning; Draco was going to make this an orgasm the young man would never forget.
He felt the moment Teddy reached the edge almost as though it were his own, and with a low moan Draco opened his mouth, drawing his lips back and forcing his fangs down. His stomach rumbled, his head swan with need, and as he felt the first ribbon of come on his fingertips, Draco sank his teeth into Teddy's neck and swallowed fast.
Bliss.
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: aislinntlc
Pairing: Draco/Teddy
Length: ~1,100
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings/Kinks: Club!Fic, Vampire!Fic, Cross!Gen, Smexing, and slightly dubious morals :D
Summary: But really, Teddy knew what Draco was and had continued throwing himself at Draco given half a chance, so Draco reckoned he was safe taking what he wanted.
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #21 Dangerous from my 100quills Next Generation Table. The title is a Weezer song.
Happy Belated Birthday marguerite_26!
Even if he hadn't been able to smell the night's target across the club, Draco could never have missed him. The bright blue Mohican made sure Teddy stood out, a beacon of light in the mass of writing dancers.
Draco hated the clubs; the thumping base was amplified by his advanced hearing, and he heard every single note as though the speakers were pressed to his ears. And the smell of all that blood, pumping and rushing through youthful veins, was almost enough to make him lose control. He had to swallow compulsively to keep from drooling down his chin; all this food in such a confined space was almost cruel in its temptation.
Sliding easily through the dancers, Draco rested his hand on Teddy's arm. "Interesting hair style."
"Draco! You came!" Teddy was yelling to be heard over the music, clearly forgetting that he could whisper, and Draco would hear every word.
An unfortunate accident according to the Ministry - Draco called it sabotage - infected blood had found its way into his morning coffee two years ago, turning him into the mythical creature of the night. At least it guaranteed the Ministry could never fire him, or refuse his demands for a raise - if it got out that they'd let someone poison a man found innocent in the post-war trials, there'd be hell to pay. But Draco had needs, and his latest intern had spent so much time flinging himself at Draco that Draco felt it would be rude not to take what he wanted from Teddy.
"I love this club, don't you?"
"Oh, absolutely." Draco held back on rolling his eyes when his sarcasm was missed, and Teddy just grinned at him. The poor boy had clearly inherited the idiocy that had seen his parents killed scant seconds after he'd popped into the world. Draco supposed he should feel sympathy, but he was a vampire, he had no soul. And even if he did have a soul, he was a Malfoy. He wouldn't know how to use it, and its associated conscience.
Teddy was making a motion at him, and Draco nodded, more to get them away from the speakers before his head exploded than because he had any idea what Teddy was suggesting. But Teddy let him to the bar, and Draco pulled a few galleons from his pocket, tossing them on the bar and motioning for two firewhiskys. Flashing money was always a winner with Draco's preferred courses; at twenty they were just starting to earn some money, and were entranced by it, and anyone who possessed it in quantities.
Not that Draco couldn't just focus his mind, retreat into his senses, and let his enticing thrall envelop them and draw them closer to him. But that always seemed so lazy. Draco liked the chase; it made the success taste much sweeter.
Teddy had already downed his whisky, so Draco followed suit. Tipping his head towards a secluded corner, Draco led Teddy into the shadows, backing Teddy against the wall so that Draco's body shielded them from view. In the shadows, Teddy's hair didn't stand out, didn't draw attention to them. Before Draco could properly assess the situation, Teddy had flung himself forwards and crushed his lips against Draco's. Fighting the urge to recoil from the sudden attack, Draco brought his hands up and cupped Teddy's face, making the touch feel tender even as he used it to control Teddy and make the kiss slightly more enjoyable for himself.
It would never stop surprising him, how a little mystery, a little dark affliction, could make boys and girls from twelve to twenty-five flock to him like bees to honey. Perhaps it was hormonal, tied into puberty, and the teenage need to rebel from what was good and proper. The same reason scores of witches and wizards his son's age wore black eyeliner and wrote poems about death.
As Teddy pulled back for air, Draco paused a moment to reconsider his options. He tended to gravitate to witches and wizards he didn't know; Teddy was a high-profile conquest. But really, Teddy knew what Draco was and had continued throwing himself at Draco given half a chance, so Draco reckoned he was safe taking what he wanted. He still had all the filthy notes Teddy had left on his desk, just in case he needed to defend himself. Teddy was asking for it.
"Do you want to come back to mine?"
Shaking his head, Draco grabbed Teddy's shoulders and turned him around, pressing him against the wall. "What's wrong with right here?"
Teddy tensed, but Draco wasn't stopping now. He could feel the lust rising in his body, making his head fuzzy and his mouth dry. He wanted, and Teddy smelt so sweet it was killing him. Reaching his hand around, Draco deftly undid Teddy's jeans and slipped his hand into Teddy's pants. He wasn't surprised to find Teddy hard - Draco tended to have that effect on people - and as he curled his fingers around Teddy's shaft and started stroking up and down slowly, he lamented his inability to get aroused anymore. This would be much more fun on a large bed, driving into Teddy's arse before he took what he wanted. But no heartbeat meant no blood flow, which wasn't exactly conducive to an erection.
"Your hand's so warm," Teddy muttered, his head pressed against the wall and his arse pressing back against Draco.
Draco smirked; just once he'd tried to do this without putting a warming charm over his skin, and had ruined the moment when the poor boy jolted away from him, eyes watering and lips jabbering about ice and cold. Another unfortunate side effect of having no pulse.
Resting his cheek against the back of Teddy's neck, Draco closed his eyes and zoned the rest of the club out, focusing just on Teddy's heartbeat, tantalisingly close. He listened to each beat, waited as they got quicker and harder, speeding up his hand to match pace. Teddy would thank him in the morning; Draco was going to make this an orgasm the young man would never forget.
He felt the moment Teddy reached the edge almost as though it were his own, and with a low moan Draco opened his mouth, drawing his lips back and forcing his fangs down. His stomach rumbled, his head swan with need, and as he felt the first ribbon of come on his fingertips, Draco sank his teeth into Teddy's neck and swallowed fast.
Bliss.