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Here With You (Wanting More)

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I'm sitting at a table in the corner of the club, surrounded by a group of friends from the wizarding radio station I work at and wishing I had something a little more satisfying to suck on than my watered-down gin and tonic, when I see him across the dance floor.

Draco Malfoy.

My heart skips a beat and my stomach feels all wobbly as I stare, wondering if I'm hallucinating or if it really is him scanning the room with his keen gaze. My mates and I are at this club just about every week and I've never seen him here before—he doesn't exactly seem like the clubbing type, but he looks just as comfortable and confident here as he does whenever Gran and I visit him and Narcissa at the Manor. He appears to be alone as he heads leisurely towards the bar, and I wonder if he's meeting somebody, or if he's here hoping to pull.

I'd happily volunteer as tribute.

See, I've had a massive crush on Draco since I was about fourteen years old, and it's only got worse the older I've become. Draco's even fitter now than he was six years ago when I first realised what that squirmy feeling in my stomach meant every time he smiled at me. He's the true definition of a silver fox, his platinum hair streaked through with the faintest trace of silvery-grey that's only noticeable in the right light if you're staring really hard, which I pretty much always am. I've always had a thing for older blokes—something about a man with experience just really does it for me. I was eyeing up the leather daddy in the corner as a potential shag, but now that Draco's here he's got my full attention.

Is this a sign? Should I finally make my move?

I guess we're technically related, but it's not close enough to matter and it's not like we'd be procreating anyway. There's the age difference, of course, but that's honestly a plus in my book, and I have a feeling Draco wouldn't be at this particular club right now if he had a problem with fucking somebody half his age. I watch his eyes wander around the dance floor, lingering on the pretty young things eagerly batting their lashes at him for a bit of attention. If I do want to make my move, I need to do it soon before the vultures sink their claws into him. He's fresh meat and prime Daddy material; the twinks are salivating and circling, looking for an opening.

I could always morph myself into somebody else, but the thought sits heavy on my chest and I discard it as I finish off my gin and tonic. I want Draco too much to pretend to be anyone other than me. I'd rather be turned down as myself than accepted as somebody else. Maybe then I can start working on getting over this ridiculous crush.

That's it, I'm doing it. It's not like I've been pining or anything (at least not too badly) but unrequited like is a real bummer, and I see him around often enough that it's starting to wear. It's the uncertainty more than anything that kills me, because sometimes I think Draco looks at me with something more than familial appreciation, and it only adds fuel to the fire of my desire. At this point a rejection would be (almost) as welcome as him saying yes—either way, at least I'll have an answer.

But to get an answer, I have to ask the question.

"I'm getting a refill," I announce to the table of my friends; they're only half-paying attention, most of them either involved in conversation or scoping out the club for a partner for the night. Vic's the only one who really seems to hear me and she looks towards the bar, smirking when she catches sight of Draco, looking devastatingly hot as he sips on some amber liquid—scotch, if he's ordered his usual.

"Feeling thirsty, Ted?" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She's one of the few people who knows about my little crush and she's been egging me on for ages, telling me to go for it. She had dinner with us last year when Draco and his mum had been visiting, and she was convinced he'd been staring at my arse when I'd bent down to check the cakes in the oven. I wanked over that possibility for weeks, dreaming of what might have happened if we'd been alone, but I'd chickened out of making my move. What if Vic had been wrong?

I'm not losing my nerve again.

"Always," I reply, winking at her as I push out of my seat. She gives me two thumbs up as I make my way to the bar, wiping my sweaty palms on my skin-tight trousers. At least I've dressed the part tonight. I was hoping to pull and I look pretty fucking hot if I do say so myself. Hopefully Draco will think so too.

"Fancy seeing you here," I say as I settle in next to him at the bar.

Draco looks surprised but not unhappy to see me, his lips spreading into a grin. He gives me a quick once over that slows down appreciatively when he realises the tight clubbing getup I'm in. He wets his lips, his gaze seeming a bit darker than it was just a moment before when he meets my eyes. My heart leaps. I feel drunk even though I've only had the one drink.

"Hello, Teddy, it's good to see you."

"Likewise," I reply with a bat of my lashes. "I come here pretty often with my friends but I've never seen you around before."

Draco smiles slightly. "Blaise prefers a different bar—Leviosa—so we usually end up there, but he's out of town this week and I thought I'd try something different."

"Oh?" I ask, leaning in just a little too close, feeling hungry and reckless as I continue flirtatiously, "Well if it's different you're after, I'd be happy to help you out."

Draco's eyebrows rise, but he doesn't look horrified or disgusted by my innuendo. Intrigued, maybe. Interested, I hope.

He takes a long sip of his drink, mulling over his response. Or perhaps it's just to tease me, knowing how breathlessly I'm waiting for his reply.

"Shouldn't you be off finding somebody your own age to flirt with? I can't imagine you came to this club to chat with an old man like me."

I smirk, hoping he can't tell it's all bravado. "Actually, that's exactly why I came here. I like a man with a bit of… experience. Somebody who knows what they want and isn't afraid to go after it." I bite my lip, hoping it looks sexy and suggestive and not totally daft. Judging by the flare of heat in Draco's eyes, I've nailed it. I lean in even closer, feeling intoxicated as I breath in a deep lungful of his familiar cologne. "Do you know what you want, Draco? Or should I chat up the leather daddy in the corner instead?"

Draco swallows, and I swear I can hear it even over the din of the club. I hold my breath as he looks me over, and I'm not imagining it, that is desire sparking in his eyes. He hesitates though, and I barely suppress a growl. I'm so close to getting what I've been wanting for years; I'm not letting anybody stand in my way, not even him.

"If you're going to say something daft about my age again, don't bother," I say before he can offer up some excuse about how I'm too young. "I've been watching you since you got here, and don't think I didn't notice who you were ogling. If the boy in the hotpants was old enough for you to eyefuck, then you shouldn't have a problem with how old I am. And don't pretend you've not noticed the crush I've had on you for years—this isn't some spur-of-the-moment thing and you know it."

Draco smirks, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he tips his glass towards me in silent salute.

"Fair enough." He takes a drink, looking at me speculatively over the rim of his glass. "You say I'm a man who knows what he wants: what about you, Teddy? What do you want?"

I'm suddenly, blindingly hard, so turned on I can barely think. Fuck, it's really happening.

"Right now," I say breathlessly, "I really want you to take me somewhere a little more private where I can show you exactly what else I want."

Draco drains the rest of his glass in one easy swallow and slams it down on the bartop, his gaze so heated I wonder if it'll sear right through me. He tugs me close and I let him, melting against his body as he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me for all he's worth. For all the times I've wanked to the thought of this moment, it's somehow even better than I pictured. I never imagined the slight rasp of his day-old stubble against my cheeks, the sour-scotch taste of his tongue. Those little details make it all the more real and I mewl hungrily into his mouth as I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. When he breaks away I whine with disappointment, but he flashes me a wickedly reassuring smile.

"You said you wanted to go somewhere more private?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I nod eagerly, and he begins to drag me towards the club's exit. I turn to see if any of my friends noticed the silver fox I bagged and meet Victoire's gaze. She's grinning wildly—she may be almost as pleased as I am that I finally pulled the man I've been pining over for ages. I wink at her and she laughs, and then Draco and I are out of the club and he's guiding me down a deserted alleyway.

He presses me up against a cool brick wall, like he can't wait another moment before getting his hands all over me, and fuck, do I know how that feels. I briefly wonder if he's planning to Apparate us somewhere else, but the way he's devouring my mouth makes me think he's perfectly content with us getting off right here in this grotty alley. The thought of it is surprisingly hot, the contrast of posh, put-together Draco fucking me not twenty feet from an overflowing skip that's, thankfully, downwind. I'm as up for alley sex as the next bloke, but nothing wilts a hard-on like the smell of rotting rubbish.

I can't pretend there hasn't been a tiny part of me that worried if I ever did hook up with Draco that the reality would pale in comparison to his god-like abilities in my dreams, but Merlin is he living up to every one of my hopes and expectations. He's the best kisser I've ever had the pleasure of snogging, and the way he angles my head just so and dominates the kiss with ease makes me weak in the knees. Maybe that's why I suddenly find myself on the ground, blinking up at Draco from where I'm kneeling at his feet.

Or maybe it's because I just really, really want to suck his cock.

I still can't believe this is really happening, that this isn't just another one of my wank fantasies. But fuck my heart is beating a million miles an hour, and I know this is far too real to be all in my head. The frantic thrum of my heart makes my chest feel tight, and I'm a bit lightheaded with all the blood and adrenaline it's pumping through my veins, so it's a good thing I'm on the ground. I reach out to steady myself on Draco's knees, and the expensive fabric of his trousers is ridiculously soft beneath my fingers.

Draco just stands there while I drive myself crazy. Calm. Patient. Looking down at me with those placid, cloud-grey eyes and his head cocked like he's not quite sure what I'll do next. What does he think I'm down here for?

"You gonna give it to me or what?" I ask. It's a little bratty, I know, but I want him involved. Part of what gets me so hot about him being older is the fact that he's bound to know exactly what he likes, and I want him to tell me how to please him.

I want to be good for him.

Draco cocks his head. "Do you need instruction?"

He means it to be sarcastic, slightly mocking, but that's exactly what I want.

"Yeah," I breathe, licking my lips and morphing my eyes just a little larger to give the proper doe-eyed effect. He's not immune, his own eyes darkening with arousal and his cock twitching in his trousers.

"Ah yes, of course. Go on and pull me out then," he instructs, and I hasten to obey, desperate to finally get a look at the cock I've been dreaming about for years.

He's gratifyingly hard, popping right out at me the moment I undo his trousers and tug them down along with his pants. The head of his cock is shiny with precome, and I can't help but reach out with my tongue and give it a little lick, shuddering at the sharp burst of flavour in my mouth. Draco makes a small sound of encouragement and I look up at him, already panting with want.

We're close enough to the mouth of the alley to be partially lit by the glow of the streetlamp. The light catches those tiny threads of silver in Draco's hair that I love so much, making them gleam in the dark. His face is a study in contrast, the harsh light emphasising the sharp cut of his jaw and the long line of his nose. I know he's not all that much bigger than me but he looks massive right now in the dark, looming over me while I kneel at his feet. There's no mistaking him for anything other than the man he is, an entirely different class from the blokes my own age. They seem like boys in comparison; is it any wonder I prefer older men?

"Come on now, Teddy," Draco says, his voice a cascade of silk sliding over me. "Be a good lad and open wide for me."

My cock twitches in my skin-tight trousers and I give myself a massage with one hand while I open my mouth as instructed. He smiles, radiating satisfaction, and runs his fingers through my hair.

"A little longer?" he suggests, and I concentrate until my hair lengthens in his hand, just enough for him to get a good grip on it. I've never had a partner so casually accepting of my abilities, one who understands what an intrinsic part of me they are. It makes my insides feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Draco breathes, so much wonder and awe in his voice I'm certain I must be dreaming again. He rubs the head of his cock against my lips, across my tongue, and it takes everything I have to sit still and not choke myself on his dick like I so desperately want. He smirks a little, like he knows exactly how much I'm gagging for it.

"All right, then," he says. "Show me what you've got."

I take that as permission and don't hesitate before sinking my mouth down on him, swallowing until he's buried all the way in my throat. I've always had a thing for sucking cock and it didn't take me long to master the art of deep throating. I'm not sure if I'm just a natural or if it's because of my Metamorphmagus abilities instinctively altering my body to be more accommodating. Truthfully, I don't really care about the hows, I just care that I can, that I'm able to take all of Draco's cock over and over as I bob up and down his shaft. I'm drooling a little, the slide wet and a bit messy as I keep my lips tight and run my tongue against him. Draco doesn't seem to mind, his hands clenching in my hair, his mouth open as he lets out these sexy growls of pleasure. I'm pretty sure he's close already if the way he's suddenly started humping into my mouth is any indication.

He's not the only one. I've kept one hand in my lap maintaining a nice rhythmic squeeze of my aching cock this whole time, too focused on getting Draco off to peel down my skin tight jeans so I can take proper hold. It doesn't seem to matter; apparently getting off with the bloke I've been wanking to for six years is enough to give me a hair trigger. A part of me thinks I should hold off, drag this out—who knows if I'll get to have this again?—but it feels too fucking good to stop now, and I've never had stellar impulse control at the best of times.

Draco's hands twine even tighter around the strands of my hair, enough to still my head as he grinds in deep. He swears, low and dirty, and then he's coming down my throat, his cock pulsing on my tongue. I look at his face as he climaxes, watch the raw pleasure flickering over his features, and he's so bloody hot it pushes me over the edge myself. I whimper around his cock as I spill in my pants, my entire body shuddering.

Draco strokes my face as I lick him clean, wanting to prolong this moment for as long as I can, unsure of what will happen once I get up off my knees. But I can't stay down here forever, as lovely as that sounds, and eventually I take Draco's hand and let him haul me to my feet. I make a face as the movement jostles my junk and reminds me that I just came in my pants, and I reach for my wand.

"Allow me," Draco murmurs. He's already done up his trousers and his wand is in hand. When I nod, he casts the gentlest Cleaning Charm I've ever felt.

"So, how did I stack up?" Draco asks. There's something slightly off in his voice and I finally look at him, frowning at the faintest trace of bitterness lurking beneath his wry smile.

"Stack up?"

"Well, this was a fantasy of yours, wasn't it? Did it live up to your expectations."

"It was better than anything I ever imagined," I tell him truthfully, pressing close, just wanting to be near him. "But you're not just something I wanted to check off my list." I bite my lip, playing with the collar of his shirt and feeling painfully earnest. "I'd like a whole lot more, if you're up for it."

Draco doesn't do anything so gauche as grin, but his smile seems to brighten somewhat before turning wicked.

"Well I'm not sure how much I'll be up for just yet—we're not all twenty years old—but if you'd like to come back to mine, I'm sure we can figure out a way to pass the time."

I'm nowhere near as sophisticated as Draco so I let myself beam at him as I throw my arms around his shoulders. His smile turns indulgent as his gaze flicks up towards my hair, which is probably doing that psychedelic thing it does when I'm particularly happy.

"I'd love to go back to yours," I say with relish. This has been one of the best nights of my life. I don't want it to end.

"In that case," Draco says, gathering me into his arms. "Hold on tight."