Addicted

Although Theodore and Draco worked on the same floor of the Ministry of Magic and saw each other nearly every day nothing happened between them for over three months. By this time Draco's plans were firmly laid and quite unassailable. He knew not only the precise detail of how he would win but also the exact request he would make of Theodore when he did. Draco suspected that Theodore had been biding his time, waiting, just as Draco was, for the perfect opportunity to put a plan in motion. Pansy had been away for three weeks on a holiday with several of the other women who had once been Slytherin girls. She had been scheduled to return but had sent an owl that they had decided to extend their visit in order to attend a fashion show in Milan. Draco had been waiting for Theodore to start his advances since the day Pansy had left, but the weeks had passed uneventfully. He had considered making his own move, hoping it would unbalance Theodore to be caught off guard. He had eventually decided that his reward would be all the sweeter if he waited for it, let Nott fail.







Draco was sitting at his desk after reading Pansy's owl. He wasn't sure whether he ought to be happy or sad. It meant he could have his own life for himself for a little while longer but, no matter how little he actually cared for her he did find himself missing his wife sometimes. Just then, Draco heard steps approaching his office.



“Malfoy. I've just had my lunch plans cancelled. I was wondering if you'd care to have lunch with me. I have reservations for the restaurant in the Savoy that I would rather not waste.” Draco wouldn't fault Theodore for his taste, although he felt the ploy was a little obvious. Still, it wouldn't hurt to let him have his fun and it would be interesting to find out exactly how Theodore was planning on seducing him in a busy restaurant.



“Certainly. What a generous invitation. Let me just finish this owl.” He scrawled a note to Pansy, attached it to his owl and then stood up. “Shall we?” He let his hip brush lazily against Theodore's on his way out. He hoped it made Nott's insides twist as much as it did his own. He didn't want to weaken himself if it wasn't also weakening Nott. He knew he couldn't risk looking into Theodore's face, not if he didn't want Nott to suspect ulterior motives. Nonetheless, he could feel his pulse in his thumbs as he and Theo stepped outside into the wet February afternoon.



“Horrible weather. Would you like to share my umbrella, Mr Malfoy?” Draco said nothing, wondering how to sidestep this clever device. Theodore's smooth voice broke into his plotting. “Unless you would rather get wet.” The emphasis Nott placed on this last word was slight but very powerful, leaving Draco wondering what images might be forming in his friend's mind. He gave in, convinced he could control himself even when in such close proximity to Theodore.







Draco was relieved when they reached the door of the hotel. It allowed him to step away from the body he remembered in painfully sensual detail. The first thing he did on reaching the hotel lobby was to take a deep breath of the scentless hotel air. It couldn't quite clear his lungs of the clean, warm smell that could only ever mean Theodore to him. Draco wasn't sure if he was imagining a slight undertone of musk.



“Alright, Malfoy? You're looking a little flushed.” Theodore had followed him into the hotel and Draco had the unpleasant sensation that Nott might be able to translate his body language into thought with unfailing accuracy.



“Let's just go and eat, shall we?” Draco's tone was emotionless.



“Are we in a hurry?” Draco could feel Nott's eyes on his back as a sweeping warmth. He remembered a time when he'd enjoyed Theodore's ability to find a sexual undertone to everything. However, even Nott couldn't find anything in silence. “All right then, let's go.” Theodore led the way into a darkened restaurant, red blinds pulled down to protect the clientèle from the sight of the rain sliding down the windows. They had to weave their way through tables of couples to reach a table in the corner, only visible to two other tables. Draco noticed with some admiration that both of these were empty.



“I see the Ministry is still paying you well.” Draco slid into his seat, assessing the blind opposite. “Red and gold? How very Gryffindor.” Theodore's head disrupted Draco's view.



“It's a muggle restaurant, Malfoy, they know nothing about Gryffindor. I think they have some idea it's meant to be romantic.” Draco's eyebrow was still arched when a waiter appeared at their table, asking if they would like to order drinks. Nott asked for two glasses of white wine and the waiter was gone before Draco could say anything.



“I don't normally drink wine with lunch.”



“Then this will be a nice exception.”







The silence between them remained unbroken until the waiter returned, tray in one hand and menus in the other.



“Here we are gentlemen. Our specials for this lunch time are a Stilton and Watercress Soup, Figs with Prosciutto and Roquefort and Thai-style Beef and Mango Salad. I'll be back shortly when you're ready to order.”



“How long is your lunch break?” Draco tried not to hear a hint of suggestion in Nott's voice. Failing that, he tried not to respond to it.



“Long enough for three courses.”



“Excellent.” Draco opened his menu, pretending the silence didn't exist. Draco noticed Theodore's menu fall back to the table and was surprised by the waiter's voice close to his ear.



“Are the gentleman ready to order?”



“I certainly am.” Draco wondered how Theodore could sound as if he knew the waiter personally. “I will start with the Sizzling Prawns, then have the Coriander-rubbed lamb. I will finish with Passion Fruit Soufflé which will be accompanied by a black Coffee.” Draco knew Theodore hated Soufflés of any kind and wondered if it had been chosen for it's name or because Nott didn't expect them to be staying until the third course.



“I'll start with the Marinated Feta, then the Crab and Cucumber Wrap and finally the Kulfi.” Draco wasn't sure what a Kulfi was, he'd only picked it to prove that he had noticed Theodore's mistake with the Soufflé. The look on Theodore's face once the waiter's back was turned was one of barely suppressed laughter. When it became obvious that Nott wasn't going to share the joke Draco started meticulously unfolding his napkin.







The service was fast and the waiter was back before Draco had started to worry about what was going on in Theodore's head. The pool of oil around Draco's feta cheese expanded when Draco tried to spear it with his fork. In his mouth it felt like rubber and tasted like lemon curd. Judging by the curl of Theodore's lip Draco guessed he was having a similar experience with his shrimp. Draco watched him swallow, before doing so himself.



“Waiter!” Draco recognized the tone of Theodore's voice. It was the one he used when he was going to demand respect of give an order. He was glad he wasn't the waiter.



“Yes, sir?”



“This food is unacceptable.” Draco wondered how Nott managed to look so respectable even when he was angry.



“I am very sorry, gentlemen. Our new chef...”



“I do not care about your chef. I refuse to eat this food and I refuse to pay for this food. My friend and I will be leaving. Immediately.” Draco couldn't argue with that voice. He stood up and before he knew what was happening he was standing outside, under an umbrella with Theodore.



“I apologise for that. Let me make it up to you.” Draco was really starting to question whether it was his mind or Nott's that was coming up with the sexual subtext.



“How?”



“I can cook, come around to my house next week. I promise the food will be better than it was in there.”



“You can cook?” Draco tried not to sound too incredulous. “I never would have thought...”



“Are you suggesting you don't believe me? Come to my house and I'll prove it to you.”



“How can I say no to that?”



“You can't.” The wicked gleam in Theodore's eye haunted Draco well into the next week.