elfflame

May 2016

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Fic: Claimed by a Malfoy - NC-17

Title: Claimed by a Malfoy
Author: [info]elfflame
Pairing: Um…don’t want to say, but if you don’t like Cest, don’t read.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: see above
Word Count: 2905
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: A piece that fell into my brain when I came across this layout of Jeremy Dufour at [info]maleeditorials (need a membership at the comm to see the pictures). The idea comes from the fact that Kit uses him for her PB for one of the characters in this piece, and I couldn’t resist playing with the idea of a Masque and unknown identities. So…I hope people like. Written for Kit, who knows why. :D



This was the first masque Draco had been to in years, and the crowd of people in their colorful costumes was a bit overwhelming to face on his own. He had stopped attending most gatherings after his wife Astoria had fallen ill. She'd insisted that he go anyway, but his heart simply hadn't been in it. Now, five years later, he couldn't help wondering if she had been right to insist. He no longer felt in step with this sort of crowd, even disguised as he was.

He smoothed down his green and gold robes, letting the feel of the silk calm him, then put on his other mask—the one he had always worn in society. He felt it slide into place with what felt like an almost-audible click, then turned to make his way down the stairs. He was going to enjoy himself tonight, whatever it took.

What it took was several dances, and several glasses of the champagne punch that was being served. But after an hour or two had passed, Draco was feeling far more himself. He had flirted with most of his partners as he'd danced, and even subtly with a few of the men who had caught his eye. He truly was inclined more toward male companionship than female, especially after the loss of his wife, and hoped he might find someone not only interested but willing to come home with him tonight.

No one knew he was here this evening. His father and mother were off with some of their remaining friends having a quiet New Year's celebration, and Scorpius was celebrating his first free of Hogwarts with his friends somewhere, so Draco knew there was little chance he and whoever he brought home would be interrupted.

There was one person in particular who had caught his eyes. A young man who was wearing what seemed to be a new take on the usual harlequin outfit. The mask was the usual half-black, half-white, but instead of the usual sleek lines of the domino mask, it was two sets of slashes, like a scribble on paper, except that it had been made into a mask. It was an intriguing effect. Far more so than the usual domino would have been. The outfit continued this scribble motif, with the dark scribbles leaking onto the light side of the skin-tight costume and the light onto the dark, lending the young man a wild look. Even his hair had been striped in such a way that Draco wasn't quite certain if his hair was a pale blond, or nearly black.

The young man was intriguing to say the least, and Draco decided that he would be his target tonight. If he wasn't interested, there would still be plenty of time to find someone else.

It took the better part of an hour for the boy to notice him, but Draco was certain he saw the moment he did. Draco had been dancing with an older woman--it was one of his old tricks from before his marriage, a way of avoiding those he wasn't interested in, and had always pleased the ladies themselves, who often only danced with a husband, brother or son, then spent the rest of the evening sitting and gossiping with their friends and wishing they were younger. The woman had been giggling in his ear about how she was old enough to be his mother when the boy, who had a similar partner, turned so that suddenly his eyes met Draco's. There was a shock of something like recognition in the boy's startled gaze, then he smiled and nodded to him, spinning his partner and dipping her, then gracing her with a roguish grin just as the music ended.

Draco bowed to his own partner to hide his smirk at the boy's flourish, then escorted her to the refreshment table, only half-listening as the woman droned on about her daughter, who had just finished her training as a healer, apparently. He got a cup of the punch for each of them, then excused himself to the side of the room to see what the young man would do.

When Draco caught sight of him, the young man was escorting his dance partner back to her chair, and Draco watched, amused, as he turned toward the refreshment table, his shoulders drooping after a scan of the people standing near it.

Draco couldn't help himself. He circled around the outside of the dance floor, slipping behind the young man. "Looking for someone?" he asked in a low voice, smirking when the boy jumped ever so slightly, then turned to look at him with wide eyes for just a moment before his dignified grace returned.

"I might have been," he said softly, meeting Draco's eyes. The voice might have been familiar, but it was pitched so low, and the crowd was so noisy that it was hard to tell for sure.

"Anyone I can help you find?" Draco asked, sipping from his glass as he watched the boy stumble for a response. He'd forgotten how much he loved the pursuit. Even with a willing victim.

The boy swallowed. "I...seem to have found him," he finally admitted.

Too easy. Draco smirked. "And your friends?" He waved towards the group he'd seen the boy with earlier.

"I told them I might go home with someone. They know not to wait for me."

The forwardness took Draco aback. "Indeed? No one at home to worry if you don't come home directly?"

The boy shook his head and smiled. "Everyone else is out for the night as well. I'm free to do as I like."

For a moment, Draco wondered if this might be too easy, but then the boy stepped closer, and Draco gripped his hands tight around his glass to keep from reaching out to pull him flush against him. "Aren't you afraid of fire?" he asked, sure he was imagining feeling the heat of the young man through his robes.

"My father taught me never to be afraid of anything, sir," he said with a soft smirk.

Draco knew he would have to move away now, or take the boy over the nearest table in front of the whole ballroom. "Meet me by the cloak room," he said stiffly, straining to prevent the growl he felt from emerging. "Ten minutes." He stepped away from the boy, then put his glass on a table, and made his way across the room and outside into the cool winter air for a moment to calm his raging hormones. Had it really been so long since he'd been with someone for the boy to affect him this way?

After a few minutes of fresh air, Draco made his way to the cloak room, arriving with a minute to spare. He found the boy, already draped in a short cloak, waiting for him. He couldn't help wishing the cloak were a bit longer, as his eyes kept tracing down what was still revealed of the boy's slim lines. Tearing his eyes from the boy's legs, he nodded to him, then held out his arm. "I will Apparate us."

A single step, and the boy was practically curled around him, and Draco couldn't help but dig his fingers into the boy's hip to draw him even closer. Once the boy was flush against him, he spun on the spot and Apparated them away.

They reappeared in Draco's bedroom. It wasn't his usual habit to bring his partners home, but no one was here, and so long as he let the boy Apparate home in the morning, no one would ever be the wiser.

Stepping back, Draco tilted his head to the side, watching the boy and waiting for the usual astonishment he saw in everyone who he allowed to grace his bedroom. The room had belonged to generations of Malfoys, and the furniture was exquisite and lavish. And drew absolutely no reaction from the boy, whose eyes were still focused only on him. A bit nonplussed by this, Draco turned away to remove his robe, revealing the tight breeches and golden white shirt he'd worn underneath. "Do make yourself comfortable. I could have the house elves bring something, if you like," he said as he reached up to remove the mask.

But other fingers were there before his. "Please don't," the boy whispered.

Draco turned to look at him. His mask was far more complicated than the boy's domino, as it was shaped to give the illusion of a beak and a mane, and it would make kissing awkward at best. "You don't wish to see my face?" He wasn't entirely sure whether he should be offended or not.

"It's not that. I...know...who you are. Your voice is rather unmistakable," the boy said, a blush staining his cheeks a pale pink. "I just...I'm not ready to let go of the illusion just yet."

An odd request, but after a moment, Draco nodded. "Very well. But I will warn you, I don't know how long my patience will hold..."

The boy smirked wickedly. "There are other things we can do..." He stepped in front of Draco, undoing the buttons of his shirt, then leaned in to kiss and suck at the flesh at the base of his neck. Draco let his head fall to the side with a sigh, his hands moving to the boy's back, tracing down the line of his spine, and settling on his arse, drawing him closer.

"You are a delicious, wicked, tempting boy," he murmured. "And whoever has been keeping you from me will pay dearly for this..." It was an empty promise, but Draco wanted the boy to know how much he wanted him right at this moment.

So he was rather shocked when the boy's eyes rose to meet his. "And if the one who did so was in this room right now? What would you do to him?"

Raising an eyebrow at the question, Draco thought for a moment, then smirked. "I would make him watch while I teased you until you came. And then I would take you. Are you certain you are ready to be claimed by a Malfoy?" he asked in a low purr.

While he had been expecting the boy to moan at his statement, he had not expected the boy to pull away and walk toward his bed before turning back to look at him. "Should I show you that I am? Just how much I am?" He didn't wait for a response, though, and began to undo his shirt, letting it slide off his shoulders and onto the floor before he pushed down the tight leggings he was wearing.

Draco watched every movement, his mouth dry, as inch after inch of pale, young flesh was revealed, and, between the boy's legs, a long but slender pink cock stood proudly nestled in a bed of golden curls. He took a step toward the boy to take exactly what he wanted, but the boy put up a hand. "No. Watch." He settled on the bed, spreading his long legs, then began to stroke himself with one hand, his eyes watching Draco's reaction. After a few strokes, his other hand moved behind his leg to reach up and stroke over the entrance half hidden behind his balls.

It was the moan that did it. Draco was unable to hold back any more. He tore off his mask, then stormed towards the bed, his clothes dropping to the floor even as he moved. He caught the boy in a hungry kiss, his hands stilling the boy's, then pushing them over his head. "No more. You want this?" he asked, his voice a hair's breath from a growl, grinding his cock against the boy's.

The boy let out a whimper and another groan, nodding, and Draco was barely able to remember to whisper the spells that would stretch and slick the boy to keep himself from hurting him before he pressed inside the tight, welcoming heat, his feet braced against the floor to give himself leverage. The boy would have cried out, but Draco's mouth covered his at the same moment, and he drank down the feeling of the boy's wail as he pressed inside him.

It was difficult to keep himself from moving immediately, and he let only the barest moment pass before he began to thrust, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed as his need took over. His lips roamed the boy's face, neck and shoulders, stopping at a spot that made the boy throw back his head with a gasp, and sucked at the spot until he made a mark.

He must have let go of the boy's hands at some point, though he only realized it when he felt them clawing at his back, but it was a pleasurable pain, and Draco encouraged it, biting and nipping at the mark he'd made on the boy's neck as he continued to move inside him.

When he took that smooth pink cock in his hands, it only took two strokes before the boy had coated them both with his come, letting out a hoarse, incomprehensible scream. With another few thrusts, Draco followed him over the edge, then collapsed against the boy, panting and aware of little more than the feeling of soft skin against his own.

After a moment, the boy moaned again. "Heavy."

Draco sighed, then rolled to his back, scooting back so that his legs no longer dangled over the edge of the bed. It was only a moment before the boy had curled up against his side. "Better than I ever dreamed," he breathed.

It was still difficult for Draco to form words, but the statement garnered enough surprise in him to make them necessary. "You dreamed...of me?" He still had no clue who this boy was, and while the Malfoy family was well-known, he had no illusion that he was the source of many wank fantasies in the Wizarding world the way Potter was.

The boy sat up to meet his gaze, another flush staining his cheeks. "Yes." He seemed to debate with himself, then looked down and pulled off his mask.

Draco gaped as he saw his own son's face revealed. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius nodded. "I..." He licked his lips. "Please don't turn me away, father."

"Why? Why would you do this? Why would you want it?"

"I...don't know. I just...always have. You're the only one I ever had dreams about, father. Just you."

Draco sat up, horrified, and looked away from his son. From the lips and neck he'd just been ravishing, the long legs that had felt so good wrapped around his waist. "No... Scorpius...you...no!" He couldn't believe he'd let himself do that with his own son--to his own son!

"Please, father..."

Draco whirled to look at his son, feeling his heart give a lurch in his chest. He'd promised Astoria he'd take care of their boy. Instead...he'd taken advantage of him. "No. We can't...you..." He stood up to grab his robe, but Scorpius caught his arm.

"You didn't hurt me. I've done this before with others. I know what I want. I can be discreet, father. Please...don't turn me away?"

It was wrong. They were father and son. And Draco knew he shouldn't even look back at Scorpius. Not until they were both dressed. But even now, he knew that would not help. Even in the ballroom, he'd wanted this boy, not knowing who he was. He turned slowly. "Was it a spell?"

Scorpius blinked at him. "No. I would never do that to you, father. Besides, I...wanted you to want me, I didn't want to force you. If you hadn't come to me..." He looked down at the floor. "I would never hurt you that way. You mean too much to me."

Draco sighed, the last bit of his resistance falling away--for the moment, at least. He pulled Scorpius into his arms. "Apparently when I called you wicked, I wasn't far wrong," he said softly.

Scorpius clung to him, and he could feel some of the tension drain out of him as he chuckled softly. "You also said once, that Malfoys always get what they want." He looked up into Draco's eyes, and Draco could see the steel determination there. "I only want you," the boy told him firmly.

Draco knew this wasn't something that would be easily dealt with. The shame of what he'd done welled in him even now. But at the same time came the need. This boy was his. Scorpius wanted him. And he was of age. He did have the right to choose his own bedmates. For now, Draco would content himself with holding his son--lover?--in his arms while he slept. The rest he would deal with in the days to come.

"Come back to bed," he said softly, and the joy in Scorpius's face at the words made his own heart leap a bit. They curled up under the duvet together, Draco trying to shake the image of holding Scorpius like this on nights where his nightmares had woken him as a boy. The confusing jumble of son and lover he now held in his arms might never be truly sorted. But he knew, whatever else, when one was claimed by a Malfoy, there was no turning back.

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