Miscalculations

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 A/N: Thanks for your Reviews!

Thanks to Anon for your correction, we have changed it.

Miscalculations

By JanusEris

Translated by Lex

Betaed by Beth

Chapter 2

Ferret in a cage


"Do you want something to eat?" Potter asked. "You have to be starving."

He was right. The food in Azkaban had been inedible, even after Draco
had been so hungry that he'd choked it

down. It was a terrible place. Draco could understand why his father
had preferred death to going back there.

Draco nodded and hesitantly rose.

Potter contemplated him thoughtfully. "You can eat here," he finally
said. "At least this time. But only if you want

to. Of course we can go to the living room, but then you'll have to act
submissive."

"I'd rather eat here." Draco replied softly. He caught himself avoiding
Potter's gaze and cursed himself silently.

Potter just nodded and snapped his fingers. The strangest house elf
that Draco had ever seen appeared. He wore a

knitted jumper, two mismatched, gaudy socks and three crocheted hats,
stacked over each other. Apparently, he

was a FREE house elf. He stared at Draco with big eyes. Draco returned
his look with distaste. He'd never liked

house elves. A free house elf was a thousand times worse than normal
elves. And, this particular house elf

amazingly reminded him of the most incapable house elf his family had
ever possessed. Debby, Dolly, or

something like that. He had just disappeared one day. He assumed his
father had killed him after he had let his

meal burn once too often.

"What Dobby can do for Harry Potter?" the elf asked. If he had been
more exited, he would have bounced up to

the ceiling.

"Please bring two trays with food for me and my slave, Dobby."

Dobby glanced at Draco. He grinned. Draco would have sworn it was a
malicious grin. He shook his head. It was

just an elf. He must be hallucinating.

"Of course, right away, Harry Potter." The elf vanished.

"You've got a free house elf, Potter?" Draco asked derisively.

Potter smiled with amusement, like there was a joke, he didn't get. "Oh
yes. I even pay him. Dobby is a very loyal

servant, I can reassure you."

"I always knew that you were nuts, Potter. Has to be you being raised
by Muggles."

Potter laughed but his gaze darkened. "You don't know what you are
talking about, Draco."

Draco took the hint and left the issue alone. Draco took the hint and
left the issue alone as the trays with food

appeared.  There was tea, fruit and different sandwiches. His
stomach growled when he smelled the food.

Potter waved his hand at him and started to eat. "Help yourself."

He didn't have to tell him twice.

They ate in silence. When they were finished, Draco felt remarkably
better. Potter went to the closet, came back

and handed him two vials. Draco eyed them with distrust.

"What is it?"

Potter rolled his eyes. "Healing potions. You apparently need them."

Reluctantly Draco took them. "Wouldn't it be suspicious when you heal
me?"

Potter shrugged. "There's nothing that says I can't heal you.
Certainly, when it's me preferring your undamaged

body … or to leave my own marks."

Draco winced and cursed his touchiness, but he swallowed the potions.
His cuts and bruises healed with a tingling

sensation.

Potter watched him with satisfaction. "Better. Much better."

"Thanks." he replied with a confidence he didn't feel. Potter's gaze
was unnerving. "I've always appreciated

admirers."

Potter grinned, pushed the tray aside and crawled over to Draco on all
fours.  Draco retreated until his back hit the

headboard. Potter propped his arms on both sides of him and leaned in
until Draco could feel his hot breath against

his neck. He shuddered and lifted his hands to push Potter away. The
other man was closer than was comfortable

to him.

"Ah, Draco." Potter whispered in his ear. "You can bet your cute arse
that I admire your body." He dragged his

tongue from Draco's ear over his throat down to his collarbone,
breathing in deep. Then he laughed and let himself

be pushed away.

Draco had closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Not only, because
Potter's proximity made him uncomfortable but

because he pulled an unmistakable reaction from his body that he didn't
welcome at all. When he opened his eyes,

he met Potter's worried gaze.

"You alright?"

"What do you care?" Draco spat. To his anger, he could feel himself
breathing harder. "I'm just your slave. A thing

you can use as you like."

Potter leaned back, increasing the distance between them. "I'm sorry. I
didn't think. You're irresistible when

you're talking like that. Fuck, you're irresistible just lying there."

Draco shivered from the unveiled desire in Potter's look. He tried to
pull up the blanket, but couldn't because

Potter still knelt on it. Finally, he curled up into himself and hugged
his knees.

"Please, get it over with or leave me alone, but stop it …
please."

Potter recoiled and instantly got out of the bed. "Sorry." he said
again, more honest this time. "I didn't think."

Draco saw the mild shock on Potter's face and bitterly pursed his lips.
"Of course. You never do."

Potter clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "It might be hard to
believe but I hate this situation as much as

you do."

"But you are not the slave, are you?" Draco hissed angrily. "You are
not the one who's at another's mercy, no

matter what."

Potter's eyes glittered in anger. "Be as it may. None of us can change
it, for now. I know, it doesn't make it easier

that I desire you, but don't you fucking pretend that's the end of the
world."

"I don't." he countered icily. "I just think you shouldn't ask me to
act as if I'd wanted it, when we both know that

I've got no choice, at all."

Potter quivered with annoyance. At last, he briskly turned and went to
the closet to dress. When he dropped the

bathrobe Draco got a good look at his well-defined body and tight arse.
Draco caught himself staring at Potter,

even though just a minute before he'd denied his attraction vehemently.
Mad at himself he turned his head.

Finally, Potter smoothed down his robe and went to the door. "Leave
this room and you'll give me a wonderful

outlet for my anger," he said. Then he slammed the door closed.

Draco flinched and clawed the blanket with his fingers.

***

For some time, Draco waited for Potter to return, but he stayed away.
Finally, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he

fell asleep. He woke when the door opened.

Potter entered. He carried a duffel bag that he dropped on the bed in
front of Draco.

Draco sat up and eyed him uncertainly. Apparently, Potter had calmed
down, at least he didn't look mad any

longer.

He examined Draco. "Go and brush your hair."

For a moment, Draco wanted to protest, but then he rose and obeyed.
When he came back from the bathroom

Potter had emptied the content of the bag onto the bed. There were
books and a number of obviously shrunken

packages. Potter was currently enlarging one of them, opened it, took
out a piece of cloth and threw it at Draco. He

caught it slightly confused.

"Put it on." Potter said expressionless. "Time for dinner."

Draco gazed at the fabric he held, still confused. Pale blue silk, nice
so far. But the robe was sleeveless and open

from the bellybutton upwards. The lower hem ended just above his knees.
"I refuse to wear something like this,"

he said with aversion.

Potter just coldly looked at him.

Draco stared at the robe – if you could call it that.
Apparently, his master wanted to humiliate him. Fine. Angrily

he turned around, took off the bathrobe and slipped into the robe. The
fabric was so soft and thin he almost felt

naked. He expected Potter to gloat at his victory but Potter hardly
looked at him.

"Come on."

Eyes downcast Draco followed Potter out of the room. Wasn't he a good
little slave, already? Irritated he pressed

his lips into a thin line. He wasn't too keen on experiencing the
Cruciatus-curse again. Maybe he was a coward.

Who cared? He wasn't a fucking Gryffindor.

Downstairs they entered the biggest room he'd seen in this house until
now, even though to him it still was tiny.

On one side sat a couch and cupboards containing some mysterious Muggle
devices. Opposite, where Potter were

heading, there was a table and six chairs. Potter took the place on the
head of the table, where already a plate and

silverware sat. He pointed at the floor to his right. "Kneel."

Draco clenched his teeth and got down on his knees. Potter waved his
wand and a low table appeared in front of

him. For a moment, Draco closed his eyes to keep calm. At least he'd
get some food.

Potter clapped his hands and a bowl with rice and a pair of chopsticks
appeared. Luckily, Draco knew how to use

them. A delicious smell drifted to his nose and he involuntarily looked
up at Potter. Aside from rice, there was a

platter with sweet-and-sour chicken and a bowl of vegetables before
him. Hastily he looked away and at his own

rice-bowl. Apparently, the meat and vegetables weren't meant for him.

"You can eat now." Potter said, filling his plate.

Draco nodded and took his rice-bowl. He was hungry again and even pure
rice had to be better than the food in

Azkaban.

All of a sudden, Potter's hand was in hair and gently pulling his head
back, urging him to look up. His other hand

held a lump of meat with his chopsticks.

"You want some of it, slave?"

Draco struggled with himself. It had been such a long time since he'd
something decent to eat. "If you permit, Sir."

he finally got out.

Potter smiled. "Open up."

Draco obeyed and let Potter put the meat into his mouth. It was
delicious. He closed his eyes involuntarily to enjoy

the taste. "Thank you … Sir," he hastily added.

"You are welcome." Potter replied amused.

Later he gave Draco some of the vegetables. Draco caught himself
looking at Potter expecting to be fed by him.

Like a dog, he thought with derision at himself. But he didn't refuse
the next bite offered to him.

At last they'd finished and the silverware disappeared. The small table
didn't, though. Potter waved at him. When

Draco got on his feet, his knees ached from kneeling on the hard floor.
He tried not to show it and followed Potter

back into the bedroom.

Potter sat on the bed and motioned Draco to follow his example. "We
have to discuss some things."

"Do we?" Draco replied, but not harshly for once. He felt oddly
resigned. When he thought back at his old life he

just wanted to scream and pound on something, but what was the point in
fighting the inevitable? It was

surprisingly easy to submit if he just focused on the present. He
regarded Potter for a moment, and then he sat at

the other side of the bed.

Potter handed him one of the books. Reluctantly, Draco took it and
looked at the cover. "Slavery in the Wizarding

World?" he asked. "What's with it?"

"We have to lay down some ground rules for our relationship." Potter
answered calmly. "I want you to work with

me here, to find some compromise you can live with. Dinner right now
wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No." Draco agreed softly. Unwillingly he opened the book. "What
exactly will be the compromise about?"

Potter leaned back against the headboard. "Slavery was abolished two
hundred years ago, but before then there

were detailed rules for dealing with slaves. I think it's something we
can work with. If you'll always behave like

earlier, we surely wont have any problems. But we should be certain.
Let's start with the clothing. You didn't like

my choices, obviously. So, please choose something else. The book has
some pictures of appropriate clothes for

slaves. Though … what you wear should reflect your
… duty.

Draco almost drowned in a wave of rage but suppressed it with a deep
breath. "Yes, Sir."

Surprised, Potter stared at him. "I thought you knew that you don't
have to call me that in here, Draco?"

Draco's hand clenched the blanked. "It's easier for me, Sir. I prefer
to know what I am to you."

"I … see." Potter replied, but watched him with concern.

Draco avoided his gaze and opened the book. Most of the clothing he
despised on sight. There were a few decent

ones, but he knew Potter wouldn't let him wear them. They didn't mirror
his duty appropriately. He grimaced. At

last, he decided on pants and a sleeveless shirt. It was still more
revealing than a robe could ever be, but at least it

covered most of his body.

Potter nodded when he showed him the picture. "Madame Malkin still has
your measures, I presume?" he asked.

"You'll let Malkin sew it?" Draco asked horrified. That was a sure way
to let the whole Wizarding World know

about his shame.

"Yes." Potter said calmly. "Do you know any other option?"

Dejected Draco shook his head. He knew other tailors but they didn't
have his measures. He would have to go to

them, in public, the way he was now. The humiliation would be far
worse. "Yes, she's got my measures."

"Well." Potter copied the picture onto a piece of parchment, wrote
something on it and ordered the house elf to

send it to Malkin. "Next point. Your punishment."

Draco froze. "What?"

Potter moved in his direction but stopped when Draco backed away. "Even
if you're always submissive, there will

be occasions when I'll have to punish you. I'd rather not use the
Cruciatus. What should I do?"

Draco swallowed. "You want me to decide on my punishment? But
… I can't. I have no experience with

something like that. The Cruciatus is terrible, but what should I say?
I'd like to be whipped? That sounds equally

as bad. I can't …" He lowered his head. "I'll accept
whatever you choose, Sir."

Potter grabbed his shoulders. "Stop that. That's not you! I didn't buy
you to let you become like that!"

Draco angrily seized Potters wrists and looked up. "What do you want,
Potter? That I act like a Malfoy? As it is

my right, after all? Just to permanently remind me of what's been
stolen from me? I could tell you how much I

despise you. Do you have the slightest idea what I was? My birth alone
outclassed you. You, you ordinary half-

blood, with your muggle-loving, mudblood friends! You're living in this
… hovel and you probably think it's

great. How could you have the slightest inkling what it means to be a
Malfoy? What I have lost? Here I am, your

slave. You want me to act like myself? You stupid … arrogant
… fool!"

Draco was so furious he forgot his fear of Potter. He pushed the dark
haired man down on the bed that was still

littered with books. They had to be stabbing painfully into his back,
though Potter didn't let on. The thought filled

Draco with some amount of malicious glee. He locked Potters wrists
above his head and bent down to him.

"If the Dark Lord had been the victor, if it had been reversed, do you
think I'd have taken pity on you? If I'd

wanted you, like you want me, I wouldn't have hesitated for a second.
At this moment, you would cry my name.

You would beg for mercy.  Do you think I'd give it to you?"

Potter looked up at him, his face unreadable. "No, you wouldn't. Is
that the reason you're so scared of me?

Because you expect to be treated like you would treat me?"

Draco stared down on him and tightened the hold on his wrists. Then he
let go of him, abruptly. "Damn you,

Potter!"

Potter was right and that was the crux. The Gryffindor had changed. He
wasn't the do-gooder anymore, not like he

was when they were still at school. Draco didn't know how to deal with
that. "What guaranty do I have that you're

not just playing with me? If you rape me, it'll hurt more if I've
started to trust you, beforehand. You hate me, just

like I hate you. That's one of the few constants in my life. I'd rather
be your obedient slave than your … what?

Friend?" He spat the word like something obscene. "Then, at least, I
can keep hating you in peace."

Potter slowly straightened without averting his eyes. "I see." He
crawled up to him and roughly grabbed his hair.

Then he ungentle kissed him on his mouth. "That what you want?"

When Draco didn't react Potter pressed him down, gripped his arms and
forced his legs apart. "Is that it, Draco?

Answer me!"

Draco put all the hate he was capable of in his glare. "Fuck you!"

Potter lowered himself slightly. "I'd rather fuck you, Draco. But I am
not like you." He released him and sat up.

"Nor will I ever be."

Draco stayed laying flat for a moment, willing his thumping heart to
slow down. When he sat up, too, Potter

leaned against the headboard as if nothing had happened.

"Did your father never use corporal punishment?"

Draco bristled. "It might be difficult to imagine, for a little orphan
like you, Potter, but my father actually loved

me. No, he never raised a hand at me. If it weren't for my psycho aunt
Bella, I wouldn't even know what Cruciatus

feels like. Funny, she and her bunch of demented buddies incidentally
are the reason that I stayed neutral. Now

look, what good it did me."

Potter eyed him thoughtfully. "Whip." he said. "I'll find one that
isn't too painful. However, I guess I'll quite

enjoy myself when I whip you."

"I bet." Draco hatefully spat.

He couldn't quite comprehend Potter's smile. The desire in his gaze,
though, was unmistakable. Why Potter

desired him more the more he hated him, was a mystery. It didn't seem
to be the case when he behaved amendable

and submissive.

"It's late." Potter said after a tense moment. "I have to work
tomorrow. Time to get some sleep."

"You work?" Draco mocked. "I should have known. If there's something
ordinary, you'd certainly do it."

Potter laughed. "Thanks Draco. That's what I've been waiting for my
whole life: To be called ordinary. I'll be in

the bathroom."

He rose and closed the door behind him.

When he returned Draco took his turn. Potter, to his surprise, had
bought him shampoo and a few other products

he generally used for his personal hygiene. On the other hand, maybe he
shouldn't be surprised. Draco filled the

tub and soaked in the warm water until it started to get cold.

Upon entering the bedroom, he saw that Potter had cleared the bed and
already lay beneath the blanket. At the foot

of the bed sat a mattress and a blanket. The width of the bed meant
that he would have enough space even if once

there had been times when Draco had slept more comfortable. There lay a
collar on the mattress, fastened with a

chain to one of the rear bedposts.

"Choose." Potter said. "You can sleep in the bed or there."

Draco knew, the true issue was what he wanted to be to him, slave or
… whatever. He went over to the mattress

and knelt on it. "Good night, Sir."

"Strip and put the collar on."

Draco obeyed and pulled the blanked to his chin.

"Good night, slave." Potter said. There was a hint of disappointment in
his voice and something else. Was it

sadness?

When the light went out Draco curled into himself and closed his
fingers around the chain that locked him to the

bed. It seemed to be fitting. He might have to pay Potter some respect,
if only for his sense of irony.

***

The next day Draco's clothes from Madame Malkin were delivered. They
were made solely of silk and in Draco's

favorite colors. He admittedly liked them as long as he forgot that
they marked him as a slave.

In the morning, Potter just unlocked the chain so Draco still wore the
collar. He easily could have taken it off but

had decided against it. It was made of dark leather with Potter's crest
in front. There was a ring attached at the

back where the chain would be locked. In Draco's eyes, it was the
ultimate sign of his slavery and most likely the

reason for his decision to keep on wearing it. Potter didn't comment on
it but Draco could see that it bothered him.

If his submitting irritated Potter than that was what he would do. It
was all the power he had left.

Things went this way for a few days.  Draco took his morning
and evening meals with Potter down in the living

room. Potter worked the rest of the day – Draco hadn't found
out what exactly, yet – and Draco spent the time up

in the bedroom being bored. He even read the ridiculous books on
slavery that Potter had dragged there. All they

gave him was more frustration. At night, he slept chained at the foot
of the bed. He got used to it much more

quickly than he would have liked.

One week later, out of boredom, he started a fight with Potter at
breakfast. That led to his first whipping. The lash

hurt but not as much as the Cruciatus. Still, Potter refused to heal
the welts. For the next few days, Draco regretted

his stupidity. Luckily, Potter, too, had learned something from that
and one day brought a muggle device called

television or TV to set up in the bedroom. Now Draco spent his day
watching stupid muggles and moving pictures.

He learned that muggles spent a big part of their day doing exactly the
same, which explained to him why they

were so stupid. But at least it wasn't so boring anymore.

Draco had just started to get used to this kind of life when Potter
came home in a bad mood. He carelessly fed him

his dinner and when Draco came out of the bathroom, he motioned for him
to come to the bed.

Draco stayed put and stared at Potter.

"Come here, Draco." Potter said with a hint of tiredness in his voice.
"Don't make it harder than it has to be."

Draco didn't move until Potter pointed his wand at him.

"So you changed your mind after all, Sir?" he asked venomously when he
sat on the bed. He was naked. After a

few days, he hadn't bothered to put on clothes before leaving the
bathroom. Potter, too, slept naked and would

demand that he stripped anyway, so what was the point?

"The ministry wants to subject you to a physical exam." Potter said.
"They want to make sure that your health isn't

endangered." He sounded ironic. It was obvious that that was not the
true reason behind the order.

Draco felt sick. "When?" he choked.

"One week." Potter replied. "You know, that means …"

"I know what that means!" Draco snapped, interrupting Potter. When they
examined him they would know that he

hadn't slept with Potter. The solution was simple. He rolled on his
back and stared at the ceiling. "Get it over

with."

"Not that way!" Potter hissed.

Draco sat up and coldly glared. "Oh, does poor little Potty want to be
loved?" he mocked with his best baby voice.

To his surprise and satisfaction, red blotches appeared on Potters
cheeks. "Too bad, Potter."

Potter clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "You will have sex
with me as if you were my lover." he finally

said. "You will be attentive and loving and act as if you enjoy it.
Otherwise, you'll be punished."

Draco stared at him, incredulous. Then hot rage welled up, because
despite everything he'd started to trust Potter.

He'd trusted that he would keep his promise. He turned on his belly.
"Punish me."

"As you wish." coldly Potter replied. "On your knees and put your hands
up."

Draco did as ordered by his master. Cuffs closed around his wrists and
locked his hands to the ceiling above him.

Potter pulled Draco's head back by his hair. "When it gets too much and
you change your mind, call me Master

and I will stop."

Draco didn't bother with an answer. He closed his eyes and winced when
he heard the crack of the whip behind

him. When he was hit, he cried out. It was a different whip than last
time. It hurt much more. Oh, how it hurt.

After only a few strokes, tears ran down his face and he begged Potter
to stop. Still, he refused to call him Master

und his torture continued. At one point it became too much and Draco
blacked out.

***

When Draco came to his whole body was in pain. He tried to move. His
back felt as if it would tear apart. Futilely

he tried to suppress a yelp.

"I see you're awake." Potter said from somewhere above him.

Draco realized that he lay on his mattress. Apparently, he'd been
unconscious the whole night, because Potter was

dressed again. He knelt at Draco's side and rubbed something between
his hands.

"No, please …" Draco whimpered when he realized what Potter
was about to do. Potter paid him no heed. He

massaged whatever was on his hands into Draco's wounds. Draco buried
his head in his pillow and let out

unrestrained sobs. After a while, the pain lessened and was replaced by
a dull feeling of numbness.

Potter rose and cleaned his hands on a towel. "Wash up, dress and come
down to breakfast."

"Yes, Sir." Draco forced out. With difficulty he managed to get up and
do what Potter had ordered.

Some time after breakfast the numbness started to lessen and the pain
returned. Draco had assumed that Potter had

healed his wounds. He obviously hadn't. It got worse with every passing
hour. A dull pounding behind his

forehead made it impossible to watch TV. When Dobby brought lunch, the
smell made him sick and he sent him

away. He buried himself beneath the blanket because he felt icy cold.
Not long after he pushed the blanket away

because he felt too hot and sweat ran in rivulets down his body. Every
movement hurt. When Potter returned

Draco drifted in a frightening dream world without knowing how he came
to be there. He didn't even realize that

Potter was real and not a figment of his imagination.

Potter made him drink a potion that cleared Draco's head. Then he
rubbed in more of the salve he'd already used

that morning, so Draco was able to go down to dinner. He hardly had an
appetite. A dish with rice was served

again. He ate a small amount of rice but everything else offered by
Potter just turned his stomach. Potter looked at

him with concern but didn't say a word.

"You've got the same options like yesterday." Potter said, when he left
the bathroom.

Draco felt himself shivering. The numbness started to fade again. He
felt so nauseous; he feared he would throw

up every moment. Nevertheless, he still crawled onto the bed and knelt
like the day before. He painfully lifted his

hands above his head. He couldn't prevent a sob when he felt the cuffs
lock around his wrists.

Someone gently stroked his hair back. "Draco … look at me."

Draco lifted his gaze and looked into Potter's green eyes. "Give up,
please."

Draco clenched his teeth and tightly closed his eyes.

Potter sighed.

One moment later, the whip hit Draco. Horrible pain seized his body and
caused him to yell loudly. He almost

fainted. Not even the Cruciatus felt that bad. Draco's stomach rebelled
and he threw up. Bitter bile burned his

mouth and made him even sicker. One of Potter's spells let the mess
disappear, even the bad taste in his mouth.

Then the next blow hit and he just barely stayed conscious. That was
when he gave up. "Master." he sobbed.

"Stop. I'll do everything you want. Everything you want. Everything.
Master. Master." He repeated the last word

until it became just an indistinct mumble.

His bounds disappeared and arms caught him and lowered him gently on
the bed.

"Shush …" Potter calmed him. "It's all right. Everything
will be okay."

Draco just sobbed.

Potter gave Draco a vial that he drank without objection. Then another
and another. Slowly the pain ebbed. This

time Draco felt it was healing and not just a numbing potion. The dull
fog behind his forehead gradually lifted.

Something moist stroked his back. He opened his eyes and saw that
Potter had wet a cloth and used it to clean his

back. The water in the bowl beside him was already turning red.

"Your wounds were inflamed." Potter told him. He tried to sound calm
but his voice shook. "The healing potions

luckily remedied that." He let the bowl disappear and carefully dried
Draco's back. Afterwards he rubbed in a

salve again. But this time Draco didn't feel a numbing effect but the
rest of the pain fading. After a while, it even

felt kind of good.

"Better?" Potter finally asked.

Draco mutely nodded.

"Well." Potter opened another vial and the sweet scent of cinnamon and
lavender rose into his nose. The healing

motions gradually became a massage that helped Draco relax his cramping
muscles. Draco involuntarily sighed

and wished this moment would last forever. Of course, it didn't.

Potter bent down and kissed his shoulder. Draco involuntarily stiffened.

"Shush …" Potter said again. "Relax. Try to think of me as
someone else, if that makes it easier. Just focus on my

touch. Now that I think about it …"

Potter flicked his fingers and a dark cloth materialized in his hand.
"Close your eyes."

Draco did and Potter tied the blindfold around his head. It was made of
silk and felt pleasant on his skin. Draco

tried to follow Potters advice and pretend he was with one of his
former lovers. The blindfold didn't unsettle him;

it was a game he'd played before. He'd even enjoyed it …
then.

Potter turned him to lie on his back and started to massage Draco's
chest. Then he kissed him and actually

destroyed every illusion Draco might have had. Potter kissed different
than all his former lovers. He tasted

different … like cinnamon, surprisingly. The kiss was
practiced, skilled and Draco found himself reciprocating

willingly. The feeling of Potter's sinuous body on his own made it
impossible to pretend he was someone else. He

knew this body even blindfolded. With his hands trailing over Potters
chest, he felt every muscle, every scar he'd

committed to his memory over the last few days. Potter slept naked and
Draco had looked at him, if only secretly.

To Draco it felt like he knew the shape of this body as he knew his
own. No, he couldn't pretend Potter was

someone else. But he could pretend this man was something else
– not his master, not someone he hated. He could

act as if he did this voluntarily. It shouldn't be too difficult, as
long as he concentrated only on Potter's body.

Whatever else Potter might be, his body was wonderful. Draco didn't
have to pretend that he liked it. The body,

not Potter.

Potter finished kissing him and licked his way down over Draco's chest.
He made a detour to his nipples caressing

them with his tongue. He circled them with the tip and lightly bit
them. That elicited a slight moan from Draco.

Yeah, Potter certainly wasn't inexperienced. His warm, moist mouth put
kisses on Draco's belly. His tongue licked

Draco's navel. Then he slid lower, his hands caressing Draco's thighs
and stroking down his legs. Draco felt hands

on his feet and finally a wet tongue licking over the soles. It tickled
and Draco suppressed a giggle. The tongue

continued to lave his feet. Then a mouth started to suckle Draco's toes
only to kiss a way up the inside of his legs.

Draco's breaths came faster and he buried his fingers in the sheets.
Potter's hands followed the way of his mouth,

then took over and stroked his scrotum. He was indisputable aroused
now, the more as now Potter's pert tongue

slid over his glans and started to circle his penis.

"Oh, yeah …" Draco moaned. "Like that …"

Without thinking, he buried his fingers in Potter's hair. "More
… faster … yes … take me in your mouth
…"

Draco groaned when Potter did exactly that and swallowed his whole
length. Were did he learn that? Draco arched

his back and tightened his hold on Potter's hair. He used that
wonderful, hot mouth however he wanted and Potter

let him. Draco felt the tip of Potters tongue at the underside of his
cock as he slid in and out of him. Finally, he

thrust as deep as he could into the warm cavity and still Potter didn't
gag. He only groaned softly when Draco

pulled harder at his hair. That pushed Draco over the edge and he came
forcefully in Potter's mouth. Potter, to his

surprise, swallowed every last drop.

"Ah …" Draco slumped on the bed and took a deep breath.
"Awesome …"

Potter laughed softly and stroked the inside of his thighs. "Nice to
surpass your expectations."

His hands slid beneath Draco's butt and slightly lifted it. Then he
gently but insistently pushed Draco's hip to turn

him around. Draco crossed his arms and rested his head on them. Then he
spread his legs, knowing what was to

come. Potter kissed his cheeks, then parted them gently and allowed his
tongue to lap at his entrance. Draco's

breath was deep and even. His orgasm had left him loose and exhausted
and he planned to hold onto that feeling. If

he thought about what was to happen it would only make it harder. Draco
was experienced enough to know that it

would hurt more if he was tense.

An oily finger slipped into him and turned inside him. Draco couldn't
prevent a slight tensing at the unknown

feeling. Potter's free hand stroked his back to calm him. "Relax." He
licked the inside of his thighs again. "You're

very tight."

Draco laughed without humor but relaxed when Potter continued. "I'll
have to admit you give great head, Harry,

but your plan with being lovers is faulty … with my lovers I
always top."

Potter paused shortly, then continued. A second finger joined the first
and then a third. Draco sharply sucked in a

breath when a finger brushed his prostate.

"I'll be gentle." Potter whispered stroking the side of his thighs.
Draco's smile was bitter. But of course, Potter

couldn't see that. His resistance waned when Potter's fingers kept
moving inside of him. As soon as Potter knew

where his prostate was located, he concentrated his movements there.
Draco's breath accelerated and he welcomed

the waves of lust it sent through his body. It kept him from thinking.
At last, he sensed Potters member at his

opening. He heard Potter taking a breath before he slowly thrust into
him. Draco groaned when he felt himself

being stretched. Potter was careful, but when he really started to fuck
Draco, it still hurt. Draco buried his fingers

in the sheets and waited until Potter had found the right angle to
arouse him. Then it was bearable. Draco wasn't a

natural bottom and never would be … but he could force
himself to enjoy it … to some extent. He pushed back

against Potter and moaned when he came inside of him. It was an odd
feeling. He was aroused again but nowhere

near coming. Potter pulled out. Then, breathing hard, he fell down on
the mattress next to Draco.

Draco pulled the blindfold off and watched the man he just had sex
with. Potter's face was red and he was sweaty.

He didn't wear his glasses, which made his eyes look greener than they
already were. Giving into a sudden

impulse, Draco leaned over and kissed him. Potter threw his arms around
him and pulled him on top of him.

"My precious, wonderful Dragon." he whispered. "I'm sorry, so, so
sorry."

Draco shivered and kissed him once more. "Shush …"

Potter's legs clasped around his hips and his hands stroked his back.
"Take me, Draco."

Draco stared down at him. "What?"

Potter leaned back and tightened his legs around him. His green eyes
gazed with something like desperation at

him. "I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard. Hurt me."

Draco stroked Potters chest. Why would the man want that? He slightly
shook his head and put his fingers at

Potters mouth. "Suck my fingers, Harry."

Potter smiled and obeyed, bathing Draco's fingers in salvia. Draco
pushed Potters legs apart and used the wet

fingers to prepare Potter. Potter groaned when Draco hit his prostate.
Draco grinned fleetingly, then lifted Potter's

legs and thrust into him. Potter was incredibly tight and Draco took a
moment to enjoy the feeling before he started

to move. Draco had closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Potter
clenching his fingers in the sheets over

his head. His eyes were tightly closed and his lips pressed into a thin
line.

"Look at me!" Draco ordered.

Potter obeyed and Draco saw the pain within the emerald eyes. Tears
flowed over his face but he kept his gaze

locked at Draco's until he came.

Draco slumped down on Potter and stayed on his chest for a moment. He
could hear Potter's heart beat. It raced

like a fleeing horse. Potter's fingers stroked Draco's hair. They
stayed in this position until Draco heard Harry's

heartbeat return to normal.

"I wasn't on the receiving end of this kind of sex, ever before."
Potter said without pausing his caressing of

Draco's hair.

Draco laughed dryly and pushed himself up to lie beside him. "Then you
better keep doing what you're used to."

Potter – Harry – stared at Draco and Draco smiled
at him. He felt strangely exhilarated as if he'd drunk strong

alcohol on an empty stomach. "If I have learned anything tonight,
Harry, it's that I don't know you. I don't know

you, at all. Maybe I've never known you. Maybe everything I knew was an
illusion I just wanted to believe in. I

wish I could know you better. Until then, there are worse things then
being your catamite, I guess."

Potter met his gaze thoughtfully, then, reluctantly, he returned his
smile. "I, too, would be glad to get to know you

better, my Dragon."