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A Proud Tradition

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Draco flinched forward, his arse bouncing under Charlie's firm hand. He was breathing loudly, and gave a breathy sound of pain as Charlie stroked and rubbed his pinkening arse.

"Bastard," Draco muttered into the arm of the chair. "It's my birthday." Charlie laughed, sitting back into the armchair, smiling down at the naked man bent over his knees.

"I know it's your birthday. I'm just trying to do the thing properly."

"By spanking me?"

"Absolutely," Charlie agreed blithely. He wasn't spanking Draco right now - instead, one hand was on the small of Draco's back to hold him in place while Charlie rubbed fingers over Draco's hole. "Birthday spankings are a proud tradition. We should've done this during your party, really. The other dragon-tending apprentices would've loved it."

Draco raised his head, glaring and flushed. "We should not - " He squeaked as Charlie spanked him again. And again. Draco kept breathlessly trying to talk, interrupted by little ah sounds and whimpers and the smack of Charlie's hand on his arse. Desire tingled through Charlie at the sound of Draco trying to whine, the sound of him helpless on Charlie's lap.

Charlie kept going, feeling Draco shift and flinch and rub his hard cock against Charlie's thigh, listening to him cry out as Charlie left flushed handprints on his round arse. Possessive lust roared through Charlie at the sight: it said hands off, to everyone but him.

Draco gave a low whimper. "Charlie - ah, Charlie stop!"

"Wanna ask me politely, trainee?"

"Like you're ever polite - "

Charlie gave him three good wallops, using all the considerable strength of his arm, and Draco gave an unmistakably lustful cry and gave in. "Please, just fuck me now - "

"That's more like it." Charlie used both strong hands - one smarting with warmth now - to draw Draco up into straddling him. Draco's bright hair was stuck to his face, his face was bright pink, his eyes were alight. He wasn't half the icy statue he'd tried to be when he'd first arrived at the reservation - he was warm and alive and gorgeous, and naked in Charlie's arms, all his lust and fire aimed at Charlie.

Draco, impatient, grabbed at the lube himself. Charlie made an indignant sound - "you know I like prepping you!" - and stole it back, before Draco spread his thighs with unmistakable smugness.

"I do know," he agreed, and then his eyes shut and his mouth opened as Charlie pushed a finger inside.

Draco moaned, low and hoarse, and every sound wound Charlie up further. He stared, fascinated by the play of emotion across Draco's face, the warmth of him inside. The way Charlie could make Draco roll his hips, shift and ride just by playing his fingers inside him, stretching him further.

Draco's head dropped forward between his shoulders as Charlie finger-fucked him. Draco was holding himself up with his arms by now, and his arms were beginning to shake as Charlie worked him.

Draco's eyes popped open - his blown pupils surrounded by a thin ring of pale, intense grey. "Fuck me, now. You promised!"

The petulant edge in his voice made Charlie grin as he removed his fingers, and quickly lubed his cock before holding it steady. "Then climb aboard, princess."

Draco didn't even snort at him - he was too intent on sinking down. And suddenly Charlie was helpless, surrounded by Draco's heat. They moaned as they finally came together, slotting into place. For a moment Charlie stared into Draco's eyes and felt quite breathless. It was like the moment when a dragon stole all the oxygen, in the moment before the firebreathing roar.

Then Draco started to move. Charlie held on and tried not to wonder about how much he sought danger in his personal life, too.

But then Dracos, unlike dragons, were at least temporarily tameable. Charlie spanked Draco again, and he cried out, flinching, tightening round Charlie's cock. He was unselfconscious, shifting and moving beautifully atop Charlie, lost in his own desire as he chased orgasm.

Charlie kept going, spanking Draco as they fucked, forcing more speed and sensation and working Draco's cock with his other hand until Draco was crying out and losing his rhythm and losing himself, coming, shaking in Charlie's arms.

Draco shuddered and went still, his hot face pushed into Charlie's neck, his whole body quivering as he panted. Charlie rubbed his back, listening to Draco's breathing slow.

"Good?" Charlie asked.

"Good," Draco said.

"Excellent." Charlie ran his hands down Draco's back and squeezed his arse hard. Draco yelped and flinched, unable to move away from Charlie's hands. "Then you can finish what you started, trainee."

Draco bit him. Charlie cried out, outrage and pain and lust, and spanked him in retaliation. Draco hastily gave little cat-licks to sooth the bite, and Charlie felt like purring.

Now Draco was back in the game, riding Charlie's cock, sleepy-eyed and flushed and warm. Charlie grinned, lust and fierce pride welling up inside, watching Draco move his gorgeous pale body for Charlie's satisfaction. He spanked Draco again, and lust and danger lit Draco's eyes together.

Charlie came like jumping off a waterfall.