
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10041062.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Other(s), Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Slash_sex, Sexual_Content, Spoilers, Plot_What_Plot/
      Porn_Without_Plot
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-03-22 Words: 3824
****** Our Lips are Bleeding ******
by faynia
Summary
     When Draco allowed Scorpius to have Albus Severus spend the night,
     this wasn't what he meant.
     Pairings: Albus Severus/Scorpius, Draco/Albus Severus, Future implied
     Harry/Draco
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
Disclaimer: I am not the owner of the sandbox, nor do I ever want to be, so, I
am making no money from using JKR's characters.
A/N: Written for creative_khaos's birthday.
===============================================================================
Albus looked just like his father.
Draco swallowed thickly as Albus Severus Potter came through the Floo, toppled
onto the floor rug and then rolled into Scorpius' arms. All the while Albus
laughed in a self-deprecating manner, raking fingers through shaggy black hair,
rubbing soot off his pale skin as he beamed away.
"You're late, you moron." Scorpius cuffed the back of Albus' head. He kept the
other boy at arm's length as Albus made a passing swipe at Scorpius' clean face
with his dirty hand. "Now it won't work."
"Course it will," Albus shook like a wet dog, spraying bursts of soot onto the
carpet. "Merlin, stop being such a flaming queen. It's not even six yet. You
know those things work better late at night. I haven't ruined anything, yet.
Come here."
Scorpius shoved Albus backwards as Albus leaned forward. Draco scowled behind
his book. A knot tightened in his chest as Albus advanced forward with a
determined smirk, and falsely fluttering eye lashes.
"Cori, don't be such a prick. Come here."
"You're filthy!"
"And you're blond!" Albus snagged Scorpius' shoulder and tugged him back
against his chest. Scorpius rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, but didn't
resist the motion. Draco rustled the pages to remind them he was still in the
room with them. If they were going to snog, they could go do it elsewhere.
"Oh, come on Mr. M, it's just one kiss," Albus muttered, nuzzling his nose
against Scorpius' neck. Draco watched his son turn a disturbingly flushed red,
but even that couldn't distract him from the darkening green of Albus' eyes.
"One little kiss. I can give you one next, if you'd like."
"Al, that's disgusting. Don't promise him that."
"Jealous?" Albus teased, his gaze never leaving Draco's face.
"Insanely, come on, let's go up."
"Dinner's in ten minutes." Draco stared at them, before going back to his book.
The words blurred and wiggled in front of him, as indistinguishable as they had
been since Albus had appeared. "Your mother's home, Scorpius. She wants to see
you."
"Is she here for good?"
Draco sighed. Casting the book aside, he shook his head. "She's Flooing out
again tonight."
"Cunt," Scorpius spat, making both Albus and Draco flinch.
An ache began to take up residence in the back of Draco's skull. He should have
told her to stay away from them, but she was his wife, and this was her home
even if her job took her away from them for weeks, sometimes months on end.
"Come on, Al," Scorpius said.
"Dinner in ten minutes," Draco said again. You're not making me eat alone with
her.
"Fine." Scorpius scowled, snitching his wand off the high polished table and
storming from the room. Albus lingered for a moment, his eyes darting between
Scorpius' retreating back and Draco's pale face. Draco stayed still, waiting to
hear what Albus' thoughts were on their family dynamics. The boy should have
been here enough to know by now how things worked for them, but he'd never been
around on a night when Astoria joined them for dinner.
When Albus moved, it wasn't towards the door like Draco had expected. His heart
beat raced as he stared at the way the fire illuminated Albus' thighs, and he
had to look away before he could think on why this made his mouth run dry. Soft
fingers feathered across Draco's neck.
"He'll be there. Don't you worry about a thing, Mr. M." And, as if it were the
most natural course of action in the world, Albus bent forward and dusted a
kiss across Draco's dry lips. "Wouldn't want to miss the fireworks, now would
we?"
Then he was gone, leaping over the center table and out the door after Draco's
son.
 
Astoria's laugh grated along Draco's skin. There had been a time, once, when
they were young and free to do as they pleased, that he'd loved her
wholeheartedly. She was everything he was supposed to look for in a marriage
match, and she knew how to deal with his parents' politics. On top of that, she
also knew him, almost too well. Hiding things from her had become a chore after
their second year of marriage, and by the time Scorpius was born, Draco had
given up on hiding secrets from her.
Except this one. Draco reached with a trembling hand towards his wine glass,
needing something to distract his mind from the hand casually stroking his
inner thigh. He took a hearty sip, trying to mask the flush of his face as
alcohol induced and not what it really was.
What irritated him was the innocent expression on the perpetrator's face.
"Mr. M?"
Draco swallowed deliberately as he tried to pull his mind back to the present.
"Yes?"
"Doxies?" Albus grinned. "Are they still in the guest bedroom curtains?"
"We've doxies in our curtains?" Astoria's eyes widened in shock.
"We do," Draco answered smoothly, setting down his wine goblet to turn and face
Albus fully. The hand fell away like he hoped it would, "because someone put
them there."
"I had nothing to do with it," Scorpius hurried to assure everyone. Draco knew
that full well, but Astoria had turned her attention away from the real
culprit, who seemed to find the entire affair amusing. Albus' eyes danced with
merriment as he took a smaller sip of his own wine. His intent gaze never left
Scorpius for a moment. It was almost as if Draco had imagined the hand. Of
course, then he'd have to work out a new theory as to why he was sitting at the
head of his old family table, painfully and unpleasantly hard.
Albus' polite question sliced easily through Astoria and Scorpius' squabbling
before it could turn into an all out name war. "Would anyone like some more
potatoes?"
 
He should have known better. Albus never asked an innocent question. NO
Slytherin asked innocent questions; they always had motives, namely self-
serving motives, but Albus was an odd Slytherin. He vacillated between
upstanding citizen with high morals and the need to please others, and being a
smug little twat with cunning plans.
Draco's eyes narrowed as he drank in the sight playing out before him. It
wasn't very often he came into his bedroom to find someone else lying on his
bed after all, and even less often for that person to be naked and staring
straight at him. He watched with mild amusement as Albus arched into his own
hand, mouth parted in an inaudible moan.
"You're shameless," Draco murmured, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. He
wouldn't ask what Albus was doing there. The answer would be nothing but pure
sarcasm, something he had not picked up from his father. "Your father needs to
lock you up."
Albus' grinned and reached out with his free hand. Draco could see it glisten
in the low lighting of the room. "Join me?"
"If I don't?" Draco cocked an eyebrow at the young man. Seventeen years old and
he could still pout like a child. The knot tightened in Draco's stomach. This
was wrong, so utterly wrong, and he was well within his rights to refuse the
blatant invitation. But he wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't, and part of him felt
sick at the very notion of it.
"But you will." Where had that certainty come from? Draco tried to remember a
time when he'd felt that assured at Albus' age, but he couldn't. A slick
popping noise had Draco's eyes focused downwards on Albus' body, to a part of
the boy's anatomy he was fairly sure he was never meant to see. Trapped in a
dizzy rush, blood flowing too fast away from his brain, he could only observe
the way Albus slid one of his fingers into himself. "Won't you?"
He couldn't do this. "Your shoes are still on."
"So?"
"You're dirtying my bed sheets with the filth of the outdoors, Albus."
"Al. Call me, Al, Mr. M. Gods, just--fine."
With a single fluid motion, Albus righted himself and grabbed at his ankles. He
deftly unlaced the trainers and sent them flying across the room to land with a
loud thunk. Draco tilted his head to the side in wonder at the position. It had
been a while since he'd seen anybody quite that flexible. It had been a while,
period, but he wasn't about to hop in bed with his son's boyfriend. He had some
standards left after all.
"Please?" Albus begged.
Draco folded his arms across his chest, leaning casually against his doorframe.
He let his robes fall shut to hide his interest. If 'Al' thought he would cave
so easily, he had another think coming. That was, if he caved at all, which he
wouldn't. Potter would skin him, barbeque his muscles, and then crunch up his
bones to add as garnish. There was no way in hell that Draco would do it. Not
even if—
"What are you doing?" he asked quickly, eyes widening as Al pulled out two of
Draco's own ties from beneath his pillow.
Albus smirked, reaching back behind him, wrapping one of the silk ties loosely
around his wrist. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like you're going to have to purchase me a few new ties."
He took a few steps closer to the bed, taking the second tie out of Albus'
hands. The younger man—for Merlin's sake, no boy did this—gazed at him with
large green eyes as he securely knotted the second tie to the bedpost.
Age issues aside, Draco couldn't pass up an opportunity so blatantly given to
him. It didn't hurt that he was randy as hell too, and all of this was Albus'
fault. Draco had a limit, and Albus had breeched it.
"Give me your hand."
Albus obeyed without question, stretching out his free hand for Draco to take.
The trust in the action nearly overwhelmed him, as much as it destroyed him. He
couldn't believe he was even contemplating taking what was being so freely
given to him. Of course, he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy, and what they wanted
they took, and Albus certainly was not objecting as Draco slowly sucked the
black haired boy's middle finger into his mouth.
He watched as Albus' eyelids slid down over glazed eyes. Ignoring the whine of
protest, Draco nipped the tip of the finger, snagged the second tie and
stretched Al's arm behind his head.
"You want this?"
Albus nodded, pressing his head back against the pillow so he could see. "Yes."
"Perfect." Draco tugged on the wayward arm until he could tie it tightly to the
bedpost. He wrapped the silver tie around Albus' wrist before looping it off,
and knotting it. He pulled on it a few times and let Albus try the same before
kneeling on the edge of the bed, and adjusting the slipshod job Albus had done
on his left hand. Albus arched beneath him. Draco smirked. "Behave, Albus, or
I'm leaving you here."
Albus stopped all movement, giving Draco the chance to bind his feet with
invisible cords to the bed. The expression on Albus' face was priceless as
Draco slipped off to admire his handiwork.
"Mr. M, what—?"
Draco silenced the boy with two fingers and a cocky grin. Albus really had no
idea what he was asking from him, but Draco was sure he would know by the time
the night was out. He would make sure of it.
Levering himself up onto the bed, Draco swung his leg over Albus' so he was
straddling him. He rested against Albus' upper thighs, close but not close
enough to the reddened cock to give Albus any pleasure at all.
He took Albus' length in his hand with a disgusted 'hmph'. "Is this supposed to
be impressive, Al?" Draco stroked slowly from base to tip, enjoying the soft
gasp it earned him.
"No?"
Draco pursed his lips to hide the smirk that threatened to demean the
seriousness of the situation. He couldn't have Albus thinking he found his
insecurity hilarious, which he did completely, but only for the irony in it.
Without giving Albus any notice, he bent forward, swirling his tongue over the
head before pulling back.
"Very unimpressive."
Albus disgruntled expression was priceless. "No one else has a problem with
it."
"They don't know better."
Albus groaned, head falling back against the pillows once more. His hands
formed fists as he struggled against the ties once more. Draco arched a brow,
trailing one finger through the coarse hair leading from Albus' naval
downwards.
The night was his. Albus would soon learn that fact. No amount of struggling
would get him released faster, or find him faster release. If Albus wanted to
play this game, he would play it by Draco's rules and no others.
"'Course not, cause you know all."
"I do," Draco answered simply. He stretched forward, not quite laying on top of
Albus, and braced himself on both elbows. It took him a few moments to adjust
to the awkward position, but when he did, he found himself nose to neck. Draco
sucked gently on the tanned skin he found there, his thumb playing Albus' ribs
like a harp. "I am older and therefore far wiser than you can ever hope to be."
"Says you," Albus muttered breathlessly. Draco hummed against the seventeen-
year-old's neck, licking a path up to his jaw.
"Your skin hasn't felt a razor," Draco whispered, partially horrified by his
own words, but he'd gone too far to back away. His body didn't seem to mind
Albus' young age, and soon Draco wouldn't be thinking on it either. He needed
to distract himself. "Don’t talk about supposed knowledge."
"I'm a late bloomer. Or genetically defective."
Draco snorted before kissing the unmarred skin of Albus' chin. "You're not
defective as far as I can see," and determined not to let Albus protest, sealed
Albus' mouth with his own. He drew one hand through Albus' sweaty hair,
enjoying the way the slick strands slid through his fingers uncontested. Draco
forced every ounce of his unanswered passion into the kiss, nose bashing
against the black haired boy's, teeth clashing, lips bruising. He couldn't stop
if he wanted to.
Draco pulled back, breathing harshly through his nose. Arousal flared along his
nerves as his gaze feasted on Albus' flushed skin and puffed lips. His skin
gleamed, sweaty and sticky, and Draco found his resolve to torment Albus the
entire night weakening, if it had ever been there before.
"What do you want from me?" he breathed against lips that silently invited him
back. "Tell me?"
Albus met his challenge with a defiant stare. His lips tugged into a coy smile.
"Fuck me."
The last of his breath left him in an inaudible rush. Draco felt like his
birthday had come early, or late. What month was it now? It mattered very
little in the course of things, and he undid the clasp of his evening robes,
shrugging them off his bare shoulders. He cast the heavy garment aside, basking
in the glow of admiration as Albus' eyes raked down his form, pausing at his
underwear.
"Take them off," Albus urged in a rush, biting his lower lip in frustration.
Draco didn't hesitate. He stripped off his knickers with a flourish, body
humming in anticipation. A certain part of his body was doing far more than
humming, and was fortunately stealing all of Albus' attention.
"Tell me you still want this," Draco murmured, kissing a wet trail down Albus'
neck to his chest. "Tell me you want me."
"I want you," Albus responded with a cocky smirk. Draco shuddered, letting the
words roll down his back straight to his cock. "I want you. Please. I-"
Albus gave a choked moan as Draco shifted his weight, brushing against Albus'
erection. A mutinous expression flashed across Albus' freckled face, and Draco
smirked. Albus Severus was not the only cock tease in Malfoy Manor, and Draco
had the experience of age to back it up.
"How badly?" Draco's tongue flicked out to taste the sweat beading beneath the
boy's chin. "Would you beg me, Al? Would you get down on your knees and beg me
to fuck you?"
"Yes." Green eyes widened in shock. A noticeable tremor rushed the length of
Albus' body. Draco grasped Albus' wrist in hand and brought his lips to it.
Meeting glassy eyes, he kissed the vein, sucking on it hard.
Albus' mouth parted and he bucked beneath him, rubbing his cock along Draco's
thigh. "Fuck, Mr. M, please. Please! I'll do anything, just please! Please!"
Draco chuckled and shook his head. Pulling back, he took a moment to take in
the flushed skin, warm to the touch and salty to taste. He wouldn't last much
longer, but he wasn't about to let Albus know, of course.
It was much more fun to watch the youth squirm in frustration.
"How long had you been waiting?" He trailed a finger over the underside of
Albus' cock, enjoying the way Albus' Adam's apple bobbed at the light touch.
"An hour? A few minutes? Stroking yourself on my bed like a wanton whore. I
could have been away hours. What then?"
Albus' breathing came in heavy pants as he strained against Draco's teasing
glances. "Would have waited."
"Would you have?"
"Yes," Albus gasped, flinging his head back as Draco palmed his cock. "Yes."
"I find that hard to believe."
The mutinous expression was back again, more definite than before and meant to
be seen. "Why are you doing this?"
"Revenge," Draco growled, squeezing Albus' erection and then releasing it.
"Don't ever think I forgot your little performance at dinner tonight."
"Sorry! I thought." Albus cut off and glared. "You enjoyed it!"
"Of course I did, I'm not dead, you know?"
"Then why," Albus whined. "Why aren't you doing anything!"
Draco's smirk widened into a smile. "I am doing something. Don't tell you
you're not enjoying this."
The gaping mouth was worth it, and he took that silence as a gift, reaching for
his bedside table. He lifted his wand and cast a near silent summoning charm.
Draco extended his hand and looked over his shoulder towards his personal
bathroom expectantly. Soon enough a small bottle came sailing from the other
room and smacked into his palm.
"Finally." Albus slumped backwards onto the bed to gaze at the ceiling.
"Christ, Mr. M, for a second there I thought—"
"Foolishness," Draco chided, squeezing some lube onto his finger tips. He
massaged the fluid between his fingers, and reached down between Albus' legs.
"Last chance, Albus."
"Do it." Albus' eyes sparkled as he said it, causing Draco to pause in
confusion. He soon found out why though. His finger slid in easily,
surprisingly easy. He slowly eased it out again and then back in, wreaking
havoc on his own body.
"You were impatient," he commented, delighted and annoyed at the presumption.
"You were taking forever," Albus muttered.
Draco shrugged one shoulder and added a second finger. Albus arched his back
into each thrust, trying to take in Draco's fingers further faster, but Draco
was having none of that. He withdrew his fingers completely, wiping them along
Albus' hip.
Albus cried out, struggling against the ties. "What are you do-"
"Quiet."
Draco slicked up his own cock, and repositioned himself above Albus. He braced
his arms on either side of Albus' head, and leaned down, sealing his lips over
the green-eyed tease. He guided his own cock slowly to Albus' entrance, pausing
only a breath before thrusting in fully.
With Albus effectively silenced, Draco found his rhythm came easily, and began
the slow descent to completion. It wouldn't last long for either of them. Draco
had been half-hard all evening thanks in part to the boy writhing beneath him,
and Albus had been close from the moment Draco had opened his bedroom door.
He snapped his hips forward again and again. Sweat beaded on his forehead,
trickling down his nose, mixing with the slickness of Albus' skin. Draco
grasped Albus' neglected cock in hand and tugged with each thrust. Warmth
spread through his skin and any negative thoughts fled as they hurtled closer
to completion.
Albus broke the kiss abruptly, head tossing to the side as his hips surged
upwards into Draco's grasp. He bit Draco's pillow to muffle a shout as he
toppled over the edge, shooting thick strands of semen between them. Draco's
moan was strangled as he followed shortly after with another twisting thrust.
Harsh breathing filled the silence, and Draco collapsed on top of the younger
man in a sweaty heap. He pressed his forehead against the smooth shoulder
beneath him before looking up and going about untying Albus from the bed posts.
"Fuck," Albus muttered, rubbing his wrists weakly. Draco drew them to his lips
and kissed them both gently. They were slightly redder than normal, but no
actual damage had been done.
"That's been done already," he pointed out, "You still haven't explained why."
Albus didn't answer right away, and Draco pulled back from him. "Albus," he
warned. All his earlier uncertainties came back at once, and he tugged the boy
into a sitting position. "I didn't—"
"You didn't hurt me, Mr. M. Honest. I swear." Albus raked his fingers through
damp black hair and grinned crookedly. "Just thinking how I'm going to convince
my dad that you're the best possible shag ever without giving this away."
Draco's mouth dropped open in shock. "Your father what?"
Albus' tongue poked between gleaming white teeth and he shook his head. "My
dad, he's single now, you know? Mum ran off with some random French bloke who,
let's be frank, much better looking than my dad. But that means he's single and
lonely. And I reckon, you're single and lonely, but I needed to be sure you'd
treat him right."
Draco couldn't speak. His brain had clicked off somewhere after the word
single.
"Oh," Albus said a few seconds later as he grabbed a robe Draco hadn't noticed
earlier off the floor. "Cori knows about this as well. So, no worries there
either. You didn't break us."
Apparently, Draco wasn't allowed to answer because, before he could formulate
an appropriate response, Albus had vanished out the door.
Draco scowled down at his rumpled bed sheets, one hand fingering the silk ties
still attached to his bed post. A slow smirk curled along his lips as he
removed one to wrap around his own wrist. Draco cast a quick glance at the
doorway, before leaping off the bed and moving to his lit fire.
He had a Potter to call.
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