The afternoon was warm and bright, mirroring the glow in Draco's chest as he made his way to Albus's flat. He felt like a smitten teenager, though maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Merlin knows Draco had bigger things on his mind as a teenager than the first blush of young love. There were worse things one could do to reclaim their youth.
Truth be told, Draco could still hardly believe his luck. It had been nearly two weeks since he and Albus had shared their first real kiss—followed quickly by Draco dropping to his knees right there in his office. It was quite unlike him, getting off like that in his place of business, but Albus had a way of making him lose his head.
These past two weeks had been like a wonderful dream, one Draco hoped wouldn't come to an end. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so...happy. When he was with Albus, he felt ten, fifteen years younger, like the entire world was his to command. Albus was so lovely and vibrant, so sweetly passionate. Now that he was allowed to touch, it was all Draco could do to keep his hands to himself. Their dates out in London—eating lunch or walking through one of the many museums Albus adored—had been a lesson in exquisite torture, and he only just managed to restrain himself from debauching Albus in front of any number of historic landmarks. Of course, all bets were off once they'd returned to Albus's flat.
Draco passed through the front door of Albus's building, the wards tugging at him for a moment before allowing him through. He could have Apparated straight into Albus's flat, but it was a lovely day and the walk was good for him, as was the brief climb up the stairs to Albus's third floor flat. His heart raced at the thought of seeing Albus's pretty face again, and Draco didn't even mind how ridiculous that made him seem. Draco had been conducting his yearly review of his businesses with his various general managers, and he'd been busy for the past several days. He loved what he did, but for the first time, he found himself a little resentful of his work and what—or rather who—it was keeping him from. Nevertheless, he'd persisted, taking his time to do things right the first time, lest he miss something in his haste and have to come back and redo everything all over again. Thankfully, Draco had finished late last night, and he'd immediately sent off an owl to Albus, letting him know that he'd be dropping by this afternoon. Albus had sent back an enthusiastic—and quite graphic—reply soon after that had Draco wishing he was less tired and more able to collect on those promises right then and there.
Draco knocked briskly on the heavy wooden door, but received no answer. He wasn't concerned. It was early afternoon, but Albus was a night owl and he slept like the dead. The thought of surprising a warm and drowsy Albus made Draco's stomach clench, and he quietly eased open the door.
Draco shut the door softly behind him, turned to face the loft, and froze. Albus wasn't still in bed.
He was working in his "studio", the small section of his loft he'd dedicated to sketching and sculpting and whatever other artistic pursuit caught his fancy. Right now it was painting, and Draco's breath caught in his throat at the arresting sight.
Bright afternoon light filtered in through the large windows in a lovely, hazy glow of pale yellow, catching on swirling dust motes floating through the air. A large canvas stretched in front of Albus, clearly in the early stages of production. Draco couldn't make anything out in the splashes of vibrant colour, but he was sure it would be brilliant and striking, just like the painter himself. Albus was the picture of concentration, his brow creased and his gorgeous green eyes completely focussed on his palette and brush. He was oblivious to his surroundings, completely lost in his craft.
He was beautiful.
His pale skin, messy black hair, and ratty clothing were all covered with flecks and streaks of paint: a smattering of electric blue dotting the curve of his throat, a smear of goldenrod along the bridge of his nose, a drip of chartreuse sliding down a loose curl. Draco had never wanted him more. He felt it in the very marrow of his bones, a kinetic want shaking through him as his eyes traced the perfect curve of Albus's arse beneath grey joggers and the lovely sweep of his shoulder blades pressing against his tight white shirt.
Draco wanted to tumble him on the bed and finally take him, the way he'd promised Albus he would that first time together. They'd been far from celibate these past few weeks, but they'd yet to take that final step. Draco had wanted them both to be sure, wanted to give them a chance to date and get to know one another. It had been a good decision, but he didn't want to wait anymore, and he knew that Albus was equally eager. Draco thought about stepping up behind him and wrapping his arms around Albus's slender frame. He'd press his hardening prick up against that tantalising backside and whisper all the dirty thoughts that were bouncing around in his head. As tempting as it was, Draco resisted. Albus was working, completely at ease in a passion that had only just begun to return to him. Draco would not take that away from him now.
He settled onto the sofa behind Albus and picked up that morning's Prophet from the side table. Draco flicked through to the Business section, only half paying attention to the articles. The rest of his focus was on Albus, absorbed and magnetic as his brush caressed the canvas, completely unaware of Draco's presence.
Draco wasn't sure how long he sat there, half-reading and half watching. Long enough for the quality of light to change, for the bright sunlight filtering in through the windows to deepen into a rich gold. Something about the changing light must have broken Albus's focus, and Draco watched him come out of his creative trance as if waking from a particularly pleasant dream.
He sent his supplies to their shelves with a flick of his wand, stepping back to look at his work with a contemplative hum. Finally, Albus turned, and Draco couldn't stop his smile at Albus's little jolt of surprise at seeing Draco sitting on his sofa.
"Draco! How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to appreciate how beautiful you are when you're working."
A self-conscious blush dusted Albus's cheeks, and he looked so utterly edible that Draco couldn't resist. He was out of his seat and pressing his mouth to Albus's in an instant, and Albus seemed to melt against him as their lips met.
"Hi," Albus whispered, when they finally parted. He looked a little dazed and Draco felt a primal pulse of satisfaction.
"Hello, my dear."
"I missed you."
Draco's hands slid over Albus's sides, moving to caress his round backside. He squeezed and pulled Albus more firmly against him. "I missed you, too. You have no idea how difficult it was not to tear you away from your painting and have my way with you right there on the floor."
Albus's eyes flared dark and hot. "Why didn't you? I wouldn't have minded."
"I didn't want to distract you." Draco ran his knuckles over the curve of Albus's cheek, swiping fondly at the dried smear of paint on his nose. "You looked so peaceful, happy. I could wait."
Albus pressed up on his tiptoes, pressing close until his eyes were level with Draco's and his mouth was just a hairsbreadth away. "You don't have to wait anymore."
Draco hadn't really been conscious of how much he'd been holding back until Albus whispered those words against his lips and the dam of his desire broke. Undiluted lust poured through him as he took Albus's lips in a rough and passionate kiss. Albus gave back as good as he got, pulling Draco back with him as he stumbled towards his bed across the loft, their clothes melting off onto the floor like water against a window pane.
They collapsed onto Albus's large bed—the one that he'd let Draco help him pick out. It was big, but Albus had the space for it in his large, airy loft. Besides, Draco had refused to spend the night with his lover on a cramped mattress on the floor like some starving artists just out of Hogwarts. He may be dating somebody young enough to be his son (and to have dated his son, though that was something he tried not to think about), but he didn't need to sleep like it. Luckily, Albus was more than fine with purchasing a new bed for his new flat, and he'd been adorably pleased when Draco had offered to help him pick one out. They'd chosen well, and the mattress felt like a dream beneath Draco, though it wasn't half as nice as the naked body writhing on top of him.
Albus was always so full of energy and excitement, so eager to please both in and out of bed. He began to kiss down Draco's sternum, and Draco groaned. There was little in the world sweeter than the feeling of Albus's hot, talented mouth wrapped around his prick, and he knew that if Albus managed to latch onto him, he'd be coming down Albus's throat in no time at all. It was far from an unpleasant way to go, but Draco didn't have as many orgasms in him as his young lover, and he had other plans for the evening. Over the past few weeks he and Albus had been no stranger to passion, but there was something they had yet to do. Draco thought it was finally time for him to make good on the promises he'd made to Albus their first time together in his office.
"Albus, stop." Albus looked up at him in lust-dazed confusion, his mouth hovering over Draco's belly button. "Come back up here."
Albus's lips pulled into a pout, but he obeyed, straddling one of Draco's thighs and draping his body across Draco's chest. "Don't you want my mouth?"
"I always want your mouth," Draco murmured, before ghosting a kiss over Albus's lips. "But I have something different in mind."
Draco nodded, petting up Albus's arms before rubbing down his back and grabbing the globes of his arse. He squeezed, pressing them together before pulling them apart. Salazar, Albus's arse felt so good in his hands, and Draco felt a deep pull in his gut as he thought about how it was going to feel to press inside.
Albus seemed to realise where his thoughts were headed, because his eyes widened and his cock twitched against Draco thigh before Draco even managed to get the words out.
"I want to fuck you."
Draco chuckled, and the feeling of it vibrated right through him, tingling against Albus's skin. Albus spread his fingers across Draco's broad chest, reveling in the smooth strength of his muscles. He wasn't huge by any means, but he was undeniably solid in a way that seemed, in Albus's opinion, to only come with age. It was part of what drew him to older partners after...after Scorpius. Older men had a tangibility about them that younger men seemed to lack, as if there was a kind of subtle mass gained with age. Albus knew it was mostly in his head, but Draco's solid presence was a comfort. He could lay deep roots to ground himself against coming storms, emerge from the darkness standing proud and tall as an oak tree. Draco wouldn't blow away at the first sign of trouble, like some sapling in a stiff breeze. Draco knew who he was and what he was about, and something about that called out to Albus like a siren's song.
Draco's hands squeezed his arse again, and this time Albus moaned, arching like a kneazle into the press/pull of Draco's palms. It had been months and months since Albus had last been fucked, even longer since he'd been fucked while sober, and he was eager to get started. He wanted to feel Draco inside of him, wanted to share this experience with the man who'd brought him back to life.
He rolled onto his stomach at Draco's urging. His cock was already hard and leaking, and he humped against the bed as Draco settled in behind him. Draco gripped his hips and tugged, pulling his arse up just enough that his prick was no longer pressed against the mattress.
"None of that now," Draco said, his voice like hot chocolate, rich and sweet. He dug his thumbs into the crease of Albus's arse, exposing him fully. Albus's skin heated. He knew Draco was looking at him, was seeing his arse on display and imagining what it would feel like to bury himself inside. Albus's entire body clenched in pleasure at the thought, and Draco's breath escaped him in a whoosh of air.
He didn't move or make another sound, and just when it was becoming unbearable, when Albus thought he'd die if Draco didn't get a move on, something warm and wet slid up his crease and circled his rim.
Albus yelped, and then moaned when Draco chuckled against the wet skin of his arse. Draco was licking at him, laving his arse with wet, messy strokes before teasing over his rim with light, kitten licks. It was maddening, exhilarating, and white-fire slid up his spine and shot down to the tips of his toes as nerve endings he'd forgotten he had came to life. It wasn't the first time somebody had rimmed him, but it hadn't really done much for Scorpius, and it wasn't usually something Albus engaged in with his one-offs. It had been a long damn while since he'd felt this particular pleasure, and never with a partner so obviously skilled and enthusiastic. By the time Draco slipped a lube-slick finger inside of Albus, his tongue still teasing at Albus's rim, Albus was as loose and relaxed as he'd ever been.
Draco's fingers prepared Albus with ease, Albus's body opening up for them like Draco was meant to be there. He pressed back against them, eager for more, desperate for the main event. He wanted Draco to stretch him to his limits, wanted to feel that burning ache that twisted into savage pleasure.
"Draco," he whimpered. His need was obvious, in his tone and the arch of his back, in his wide-spread thighs and his shifting hips.
"Yes, sweetheart, I've got you." Draco's voice had the faintest of tremors, and it made Albus's heart soar to hear how affected he was. His fingers slipped out of Albus's slick arse, and Albus's pulse began to pound. Blood rushed through his head as he felt the undeniable pressure of Draco's thick erection prod between his cheeks.
The tip of Draco's cock kissed his entrance, and a strange cry escaped Albus's throat, a desperate sobbing sound full of desperation and anticipation. Draco's palm stroked up and down his spine before settling hot and steady on the small of Albus's back. With his other hand, Draco gripped his cock, holding himself steady as he began to press inside.
Albus groaned, his mouth falling open and his eyes screwing shut as his body opened up for Draco's cock. Merlin, he'd never felt so full before, so completely taken. Strictly speaking, he knew that this wasn't the biggest prick he'd been fucked with, but those blokes had just been fucking a pretty face and a tight body. With Draco, Albus wasn't some anonymous hole to be used for pleasure. Draco was fucking him, rocking inside of Albus as his mouth brushed soft, reverent kisses along his shoulder and the nape of his neck. It was indescribably good, overwhelming, but Albus wanted more. He wanted everything.
"You can…uh...harder. If you want."
A low rumble built in Draco's chest, plastered all along Albus's back, and strong arms braced themselves on either side of Albus's head. Draco's nose nuzzled into Albus's hair, before sliding down to brush against his ear.
"You want it harder?" Draco asked, his words landing hot and damp against the shell of Albus's ear. Draco's hips continued to rock gently, his cock rubbing pleasurably inside him. Albus nodded.
Draco granted his request, pulling out before fucking in hard, causing bright lights of pure pleasure to pop behind Albus's eyelids. Draco thrust hard and deep, his rhythm perfectly devastating as he lay waste to the last of Albus's rational thought. Albus was pure need and desire, a raw bundle of nerves capable only of giving and receiving pleasure. He could sense his orgasm fast approaching, and he rocked back into Draco, eager for the promise of a spectacular finish.
When it came, it did not disappoint. Draco's hand wrapped around Albus's prick, and the friction, combined with the cock in his arse rubbing up against his prostate, was too much for Albus to handle. He came onto the bedspread with a shout, his arse rippling along the thick length inside him as he trembled through the head-spinning rush of his climax.
Draco's teeth scraped along his shoulder blade, as if he wanted to bite down, but was holding himself back. He thrust a few more times into Albus's over-sensitive body, before pulling out and wanking himself over Albus's prone form. With the last of his energy, Albus managed to look back over his shoulder at Draco. He was a gorgeous mess, blond hair sticking up, sweat dripping down his brow, and his hand flying over his reddened cock. Albus thought he'd never looked sexier, and even as exhausted as he was, he felt a glimmer of annoyance that he couldn't take Draco again right there, that his fat cock was no longer inside of Albus.
"Come on me, Draco," Albus said, when their gazes finally caught. Draco let out a choked off moan, and then he was coming in thick white ropes all over Albus's arse and thighs. His come landed on Albus's skin in hot streaks and spatters, making Albus think bizarrely of paint on a canvas—art was always on his mind these days it seemed, even after spectacular sex.
Draco collapsed down onto the bed next to Albus, and Albus wasted no time before crawling over him, craving skin to skin contact after such an intense experience. Draco's eyes were lidded and dark, his expression lax and content the way Albus had come to learned it always went after he came. Albus loved that he was learning these things about Draco, those tiny details that only the people closest to him knew.
The more he got to know Draco, the more he couldn't believe he'd ever thought Draco and Scorpius were the same. He shook the thoughts off. Best not to go down that road, not now. Every day he lost a little more of his hurt and anger towards Scorpius, but Albus was still working on forgiving him for everything that had happened. Albus was still carrying around that baggage, and it wasn't realistic to expect it not to affect his relationship with Draco—he was Scorpius's father for fuck's sake!—but he didn't want to involve Scorpius any more than was absolutely necessary. Albus had just had some truly incredible sex with a fit, smart, amazing bloke who cared for Albus just as he was. That was what Albus wanted to focus on.
"Lost in thought?" Draco murmured, running his fingers through Albus's sweaty fringe.
"Just thinking about how I can't wait to do that again."
Draco's smile was pleased and a little proud. "I wouldn't say no to a repeat performance."
"But next time, I want to do it face to face." He wanted to see what Draco looked like when he was inside of Albus, wanted to be able to hold onto him as they lost themselves in one another.
Draco's smile widened, the sunlight made him glow like some kind of debauched angel. Merlin, Albus couldn't believe it was only late afternoon. He hadn't had sex during the day in ages, and it felt decadent and absolutely perfect. A thrill went through him at the knowledge that he still had the rest of the night with Draco. With any luck, he'd have a whole lot longer than that.
Draco's fingertips traced the edges of Albus's face, pulling a latent blush from deep within Albus's skin as Draco murmured, "Of course, sweetheart. We can do whatever you like."