Persistence

“Persistence”

By Stacy Galore

A/N: The previous chapters hardly warranted the Adult+ rating.  This chapter does. 

Chapter 5: Culmination

Theodore’s flat was a large loft studio with vaulted ceilings.  Most of the other tenants in the building were artists that lived and worked in the open, bright spaces.  Theodore felt it was important to patronize his neighbors, as was evident by the paintings and photographs adorning his walls.  There were shelves displaying sculptures, decorative items, and artifacts, some acquired from the neighborhood, but most collected from Theodore’s varied travels around the world. His flat was a reflection of the diversity of his adventures. A rustic, hand-carved, wooden idol from a tiny Philippine mountain village sat beside an antique, Art Deco, Lalique bud vase from Alsace.  One week he’d find himself hiking on remote wilderness trails with hardcore back-packers and the next week, he’d be rubbing elbows with the social elite at a swanky party in a bustling metropolis. 

He’d been everywhere from Mumbai to Melbourne, from Cape Town to Capri, all in the name of self-discovery.  Along the way, he traveled with, and encountered, a wide assortment of personalities - some he connected with deeply, others left hardly a blip on his memory.  After the adventures would end, more often than not, so would the association.  Theodore had difficulty sustaining relationships, both of the romantic sort and of the friendly type.  He never trusted anyone to get close enough to form a lasting bond. 

This was akin to the defense mechanism he learned as a boy through fencing.  Never let your opponent get close enough to hurt you.  But it didn’t always work, as was evident by the scar that remained.

“It’s still there,” said Draco, a slight smile curving his lips, as his slender finger skimmed along the pale line marring Theodore’s torso.

Theodore’s usual defense tactic, in addition to any protective measures, had been abandoned.  A trail of his wet clothing lined the floor from the front door to his bed, where he now sat, reclining against the headboard, allowing Draco to pull up his rain-soaked tee shirt.

“Scars fade, but never go away,” replied Theodore, watching Draco’s finger trace his scar, feeling his skin tingle at the slight touch. “Especially the scars one cannot see on the surface.”  He lifted his gaze just as Draco glanced up and their eyes locked in mutual understanding for several silent seconds.

Draco’s eyes fell again as he began to speak, his words coming forth in hesitant spurts like a confession.  “My whole life I’ve been nothing but ineffectual, trying to leave some sort of lasting mark on the world,  to no avail.”  He looked up to regard Theodore with his penetrative stare.  “Then I read your book, and I realized I have made an impact somewhere.”  Then Draco said, nearly whispering, “I’ve never been able to affect anybody as much as I have affected you, Theodore.”

Theodore should have known there was a malicious, selfish, ulterior motive behind Draco’s advances. “And you’re proud of this?  Leaving an irreparable mark on me?” asked Theodore, his tone tinged with hurt.

Draco shook his head slowly and murmured.  “No.  I’m incredibly touched.”

“That’s fantastic, Malfoy,” said Theodore sarcastically, as he straightened his posture and pulled his shirt down.  “I’m glad you feel moved by your ability to hurt me so much.”

Draco shook his head more emphatically.  “Do you honestly believe I was able to walk away from what happened between us completely unaffected?”

Theodore bristled, his brow furrowed.  “You sure acted like it.”

Draco sighed somberly and leaned forward to press his forehead against Theodore’s, raking his fingers through his hair.  “Theodore, what did you expect?”

Theodore withdrew, growing wearier by the second.

Draco explained as Theodore refused to look at him.  “At the time, what we wanted was impossible, and you bloody well know it.   I may have called you a coward.  But in reality, I was the one too afraid to pursue my true desire.  And when I discovered, after all this time, it affected you as much as it did me, I knew I had to find you.”

Theodore gave a resigned, hopeless sigh.  “What good will it do to rehash the past?  We’re different people now.  We’ve moved on.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything right now,” said Draco, reaching out a hand to rest on Theodore’s chest, his eyes boring into him again. 

Theodore shrugged reticently and averted his gaze.

“Please don’t,” Draco implored weakly.  Theodore could tell it pained the other man greatly to open himself up this much. Draco’s voice was desperate and wavering. “Maybe you don’t need closure.  But I do.” He slid his hand up to gently grasp the side of Theodore’s neck and closed the distance between their lips. 

Unlike the feverishly passionate kisses they’d shared moments ago, this kiss was different.  It was gentle and intimately affectionate.  Theodore thought a kiss like this was impossible, coming from Draco.  He thought the other man’s commanding touch had been disarming, but the sincerity of emotion conveyed in this kiss obliterated his defenses. 

Theodore whispered against Draco’s lips.  “How?”

Draco’s answer was a both a desperate plea and a wanton command.  “We finish what we started ten years ago.” 

Theodore didn’t need to verbalize his agreement.  His kiss was an ardent declaration of consent. 

Draco managed to disengage their lips long enough to execute his earlier intention of ridding Theodore of his shirt.  Now he was down to just his black underwear, while Draco remained mostly clothed, with his necktie discarded and his white shirt unbuttoned.  Theodore found this imbalance of power unsettling, but Draco’s hands put him at ease as they traveled slowly down his chest with his lips following close behind, lingering at Theodore’s neck. Theodore shuddered from the fulfillment of an ancient yearning to feel Draco’s touch upon his bare skin, unencumbered by clothing.  Draco had set Theodore’s nerve-endings ablaze with an overwhelming palate of sensations, both familiar and novel.  The crispness of Draco’s clean scent brought back a sharp memory of lying beneath the stars together as young teenagers.  A distinctly masculine aroma, acquired with maturity, now supplemented this enticing smell, fueling Theodore’s desire.

Draco’s mouth burned a trail of hungry, biting kisses down Theodore’s chest, searing his way to the scar on his side.  The heat of his breath sent an electric thrill up Theodore’s spine as Draco’s lips brushed along the pallid line, retracing the path that his sabre excavated ten years ago.  The pain emerged anew, welling up from a place deeper than the flesh below the mark.  It was a pleasurable agony, representing every year of suppressed, unfulfilled desire.  Theodore bit the corner of his bottom lip to stifle a blissful whimper.

He composed himself enough to confess, “You’ve marked me, Draco.  For eternity.”

Draco was beyond the point of modesty and shamelessly moaned, his lips still close enough to brush against sensitive skin, “Fucking hell, Theodore.  You’ve no idea how that makes me feel.”  He drew his tongue along Theodore’s scar before closing his mouth wetly upon it.

Theodore could ascertain from the way Draco was reverently kissing his scar that he ultimately did not regret what he’d done.  By marking Theodore, Draco had unknowingly claimed him, both body and soul.  He always belonged to Draco, regardless of how detached they were in space and time.  Only now did Theodore recognize the magic that Draco had unwittingly imbued into his skin when he wounded him, not out of hatred, but out of purest desire.  From the moment Draco cut him (and perhaps even earlier) a love was born of blood and unfulfilled yearning – a love they both suppressed so diligently that it was never realized.  As a boy, Theodore had been blinded by the hatred that came more naturally.  It was easier to hate Draco than to justify falling in love with somebody so arrogant and cruel.

Theodore responded with a sharp intake of breath, crumpling a handful of the back of the other man’s shirt in his fist, prompting its swift removal.  He flinched slightly at the sight of The Dark Mark marring the otherwise flawless skin of Draco’s left arm.  It reminded Theodore exactly where he’d come from – a world so different from the one in which he now resided - and how his roots were deeply embedded with and connected to Draco’s. 

Before Theodore could help him out of his undershirt, Draco’s mouth descended to the unblemished skin below the scar.  He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of Theodore’s underwear and pulled it down slowly, kissing each new expanse of flesh revealed, from his hipbone to his thigh.  Theodore’s burgeoning cock brushed against Draco’s flushed cheek, causing Theodore to recoil slightly, afraid that this had been an unintentional trespass.  This was quite the contrary. 

Draco turned his face to graze Theodore’s growing need with his parted lips, moving agonizingly slow from the base to the tip.  He curled his long fingers around it and began to stroke it leisurely, his mouth poised over the head teasingly.  Theodore watched avidly, his hands clenched around the bed sheets beneath him in tense anticipation.  It was clear, from Draco’s deliberate motions that he was not a novice at this.  Theodore drank in the unbelievable sight of his hardened length sliding easily between Draco’s perfect lips.  He dared not close his eyes, fearful that this would all dematerialize as a dream when he opened them again.  He brushed back Draco’s blond fringe with his fingers to unveil the man’s face as he ardently worshiped Theodore’s cock with his beautiful mouth.

When the sight became too much to bear, Theodore’s eyes reluctantly closed as he tilted his head back and moaned rapturously.  “Oh gods, Draco.  This can’t possibly be real.”

How was this possible?  How could the man, who had routinely berated him as a boy, really be taking every engorged inch of his cock so fervently, with no reservation or spite?  How could someone, who had so cruelly rejected him in the past, readily accept the physical embodiment of his desire as if it were the elixir of life – enthusiastically and with an insatiable thirst?  It had to be Malfoy haunting him in another lucid dream; a dream prompted by his mysterious return into Theodore’s life.

Draco affirmed the reality of it all by increasing his pace, his blond head now bowing repeatedly in silent prayer over Theodore’s lap.  No dream could make Theodore feel this way – overwhelmed with pleasure, aching with lust.  In the absence of sight, Theodore could sense every nuance of Draco’s mouth as it enveloped him in moist warmth – the way his tongue seemed to cradle his shaft as it traveled upwards, the way his wet lips gripped every ridge.  He gasped with delight as the other man’s teeth gently grazed his hardness.  No man or woman had ever made Theodore feel this good.  Perhaps it was the bitterness of their history that made this moment so sweet.  Theodore’s release was precariously close, but he didn’t want it to end.  He clenched his hand into Draco’s hair and whispered breathily between gasps, “Stop… I can’t. . . Don’t want to. . .”

Draco disengaged his mouth from Theodore, his hand still grasping the base of his erection, and looked up, smirking.  “You don’t really want me to stop.”  He gave his cock a few slow, teasing jerks.  “What are you afraid of, Theodore?”

“The end,” Theodore answered, his voice rough with desire.

The blond man raised an eyebrow.  “The end?”  He gave a low chuckle, his smirk turning deviously sexy. “This is just the beginning.”

Draco released Theodore’s cock, letting him heave a sigh of relief as the tension waned just slightly enough for Theodore to catch his breath.  Draco repositioned himself above Theodore, moving gracefully nimble like a predatory creature. He was now on his knees, straddling Theodore at the hips.  Theodore marveled at Draco as he crossed his arms over his torso, curled his fingers around the hem of his undershirt, and pulled it up slowly to reveal the perfectly toned body beneath.  Draco was fit, but not overtly muscular, his abdomen gently sculpted – exactly how Theodore preferred his men. He was Theodore’s first desire, to which he measured everyone else that followed.  Nobody ever compared.

Draco knew he was beautiful.  But there was something endearing about how he felt it necessary to make a spectacle of undressing, as if Theodore needed to be tempted – Draco’s close proximity alone had been enough to give him an erection.  He had to credit the man for bothering to make an effort.  So even though it went without saying, Theodore confessed, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” as he ran his hands up Draco’s bared torso, their eyes locked in mutual desire.

Theodore craned his neck to kiss the smile spreading across Draco’s lips, his perfectly aligned teeth bared. Draco mused, “That’s saying a lot, if your book is any indication of your real-life conquests.”

Theodore giggled and nipped playfully at Draco’s bottom lip. “What are you implying, Malfoy?”

Draco drawled, still with a teasing tone, “For someone who had once swore he was intellectually above the need for sex, you’ve had an awful lot of it.  And to say I’m the most beautiful of your lovers is a great compliment, considering how many you’ve had.”

Amused, Theodore quirked his eyebrow. “Are you calling me a slut?”

Draco cocked his head to the side.  “Perhaps.”  The corner of Draco’s charming smile bent into a lascivious smirk.  “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

Their lips met again in breathless passion, tongues meticulously exploring each other’s mouths, fingers tangling into rustled hair.  Soon they had worked themselves into another frenzy, both fumbling with the closures of Draco’s trousers in a desperate attempt to unleash the throbbing desire within.  With his trousers pushed down to his knees, Draco stopped, kneeling above Theodore, his head inclined slightly in a cocky stance.  He regarded Theodore with his ravenous stare as his fingers traced the outline of his cock, which was stretching his underwear taut, a blotch of pre-come bleeding through the heather grey cotton.

“Tell me what you want,” said Theodore as he looked up at him with devotion and lust.

“I want to inspire you, the same way I did when I was fifteen.”  Draco’s silver eyes were ablaze with a desperate need.

These eyes alone could inspire composers to create sonatas, painters to produce masterpieces, armies to slaughter thousands, all in Draco’s name.  In Theodore, they aroused unparalleled passion and devastating sorrow; such was the depth of Draco’s stare.  Some would describe his grey eyes as cold, but an astute observer could read them, and thus the soul that lay beneath.  Theodore thought he was adept at reading Draco’s eyes, but it was evident that Draco had always been a master of deception, never revealing his hidden desires.

Kneeling there, half naked, his cock barely restrained behind tight cloth, Draco could incite riots.  He could make angels forsake Heaven for the taste of his flesh. Draco hooked his thumbs into the top of his underwear and pulled it down, allowing just the reddened head of his cock to peek through.   Theodore was fit to burst, quite literally, all over his chest.  He slid down the headboard to rest his back on the bed, his head propped up by a pile of pillows, watching Draco’s maddeningly unhurried strip tease, as his hand wandered down to his own aching erection. 

“You inspire me more than ever,” said Theodore as he took Draco by the hip with his free hand and guided him forward.

He let his parted lips glide over the head of Draco’s cock, his tongue slipping out to lap at the glistening dollop weeping from the slit.  The taste of his come was enough to spark a raging inferno.  He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the lids fell.  Then he wrenched Draco’s underwear down, freeing his raging hard-on.  He guided it with a firm grasp towards his mouth and enveloped it vehemently, sucking it slowly with an almost violent intensity, savoring every inch until his lips were red and his jaw ached.  Draco mirrored Theodore’s enthusiasm by taking him resolutely by the back of the head and fucking his mouth, slowly rocking his hips forward.

Intoxicated by Draco’s distinctive scent and flavor, Theodore lost himself in servitude, becoming dizzy from the slight asphyxiation of having his mouth utterly occupied.  Addicted to the inexplicable sensation, high on the idea of Draco Malfoy’s cock in his mouth, Theodore urged the other man impossibly deeper.  He pulled Draco’s hips towards him until the fine tuft of his hair brushed the tip of his nose. Theodore yearned for more intimacy, for Draco to plunge so deep that he became a part of him, and he a part of Draco.

Surely, Draco sensed Theodore’s desperation.  It was clear that this elation was mutual, as indicated by Draco’s wanton moans and delighted gasps, as well as the eager thrusts of his hips.  In perhaps a cruel demonstration of his power and control over Theodore, Draco withdrew from his mouth, leaving him feeling empty and even more desperate for closeness.  Draco sat upon him, bringing their erections together, as he arched against him and took Theodore’s face with his hands in a possessive kiss.  Though Theodore was still breathless, panting into Draco’s mouth, he wrapped his lanky arms around the other man’s lithe body and pulled him so close that his lungs barely had room to expand.  Yet Theodore would rather pass out from oxygen deprivation than let go of Draco or stop him from devouring his already-chaffed lips. 

Draco paused to growl softly in Theodore’s ear, “Do you want me, Theodore?”  It was both an inquiry and a provocation.

Theodore would not have hesitated to say yes, had it not been for the persistent fear of rejection tugging at his gut – that instinctual reflex to run before an imprint could be left on his heart. 

So he parried with another question, expressing his reluctance. “What if I do?”

Draco replied, his fluidly sensual voice both imploring and seductive, “I assure you, it won’t be like last time.  Just tell me, Theodore.”  He forced the issue further, pressing his cock into Theodore’s lap.  “Do you want me?”

Theodore’s body arched up, yearning for friction between their erections.  His answer was a shuddering, affirmative sigh.  “Yes.”

Draco sat up, lifting off Theodore, leaving him cold and wanting.  He reached down to grasp Theodore’s cock and commanded, with both his silver eyes and persuasive voice, “Tell me.”

Theodore thrust gently into Draco’s hand like a needy whore, panting, digging his fingers into Draco’s thighs.  “I want you, Draco.  I have always wanted you.”

He didn’t know if this was the consent that Draco needed to take things further.  He also didn’t quite know exactly what he was consenting to.  It really didn’t matter to Theodore, so long as their bodies were attached in some way.  This is not to say that Theodore was unscrupulous or indiscriminate – He was simply so desperate to have him that Theodore would take Draco in any way he could.

Still, Theodore did not expect what Draco said next and was quite taken aback.

“Fuck me, Theodore.” 

It wasn’t a question.  It wasn’t a plea.  It was a directive that left no room for disobedience.

Theodore was so stunned that he stopped.  Did Draco Malfoy actually tell Theodore to fuck him?  Draco’s abrasively domineering personality did not lead one to assume he’d bottom for anybody.  He shook his head with disbelief.  “Excuse me, did I hear you correctly?”

Draco rested a hand on his hip, tilted his head to the side, and drawled, “Are you going deaf, Nott, or are you losing your nerve?” 

He looked almost exactly the way he did that one time Draco beat him at fencing – “That, my friend, was most definitely a valid touch.”

He bent down and purred against Theodore’s lips, lapping at them between phrases.  “I clearly… told you… to fuck me.”  Draco righted himself, licked his thumb, then fisted Theodore’s cock, swirling the wetness over the head.  “Don’t you bloody tease me, Theodore.”  He inched his body forward slightly so that their bodies were perfectly aligned for penetration.  Draco reached behind himself to reclaim Theodore’s cock, stroking it enticingly.

Theodore shook his head as he uttered plaintively, “I want to, but I couldn’t take it again if things ended the way they did back then.”

Then Draco’s arrogance melted away.  He pulled Theodore’s face to his chest and held him in an embrace – a gesture of compassion just as unlikely as Draco wanting Theodore to top him.  “It won’t,” He assured him as he rested his cheek on the top of Theodore’s head.  “We won’t hurt each other anymore.”

Theodore could hear Draco’s heartbeat racing despite his collected exterior.  Convinced that the other man truly had no intention of deceiving him in this moment, he placed his hands on the back of Draco’s thighs and slid them upwards to rest on his rear.

“Get me ready for you,” Draco instructed softly, nuzzling his face into Theodore’s hair, his arms draped over his shoulders.

The bedside table drawer opened with a wordless spell and out floated a little bottle of lubricant.  Theodore tipped a generous amount of the clear fluid onto the tips of his fingers.  He reached between Draco’s legs and then gently traced the furrow of Draco’s buttocks, allowing the oil to infuse. With another coating of oil, Theodore swirled the pad of his middle finger around Draco’s entrance, eliciting a moan.  Then he eased his fingertip into the tight hole.  Theodore could feel Draco flinch and his muscles tighten.  He kissed Draco’s chest lovingly to reassure him as he serviced Draco’s cock with his free hand.  As Theodore inched his finger in deeper, the muscles yielding to his touch, Draco’s breathing became slow and rhythmic, indicating his relaxed state. 

Draco looked down at Theodore, expression warm and body pliant.  “Now,” he whispered, as he caressed Theodore’s face.

Theodore slicked his erection with the lubricant on his palm, never breaking the stare that he and Draco shared at this moment, ice-blue eyes locked upon silvery grey.  He rested his hands on Draco’s hips and guided him gently down to his cock. 

Just prior to entry, a thought crossed Theodore’s mind.  “You’ve done this before, right?”

Draco bit his bottom lip with a hint of coyness and shook his head slowly.  But before Theodore could have any reservations, Draco impaled himself upon his rigid length. Theodore watched the ecstasy spread over Draco’s expression as he entered him. Draco’s feather-light eyelashes fluttered as he let his eyelids fall.  The other man seemed to melt around him, becoming supple while somehow remaining impossibly tight.

Theodore was overcome with emotion.  He was extremely moved that Draco wanted to share this sacred gift with him, and had possibly reserved it specifically for Theodore.  It took a great deal of restraint to keep from coming before Draco was even fully seated.  He gazed up at him adoringly as Draco gyrated atop him, allowing Theodore’s cock to venture deeper with each downward motion, to take unclaimed, virgin territory as his own.  It amazed Theodore how Draco could remain ascendant while being taken this way, his command over Theodore’s body and control over his own never wavering.

Draco’s fingertips ghosted over Theodore’s chest, stimulating him beyond what he could handle.  He had to stop him, hands clamped around wrists, eyes screwed shut, to keep his release at bay.  Theodore couldn’t even look at Draco anymore.  He was too bloody hot, and the sight of this Adonis riding his cock was enough to make him lose it.  Just the thought of fucking Draco Bloody Malfoy threatened his undoing. 

He was so lost in the swirl of sensations and emotions that Theodore didn’t even realize Draco was fervently pummeling his own cock to completion until he was moaning, “Oh god, Theodore, I’m going to come.”

That was all it took to make Theodore spill over the edge as soon as the first stream of Draco’s hot come splashed across his chest in a thick, white ribbon.  Theodore’s cock shuddered with involuntary contractions inside of Draco, their rapturous moans uniting in a chorus of ecstasy as their bodies coalesced.

Theodore felt faint, as if he’d just pumped the entirety of his physical and spiritual existence into Draco’s body.  Draco collapsed in a spent heap on top of Theodore - their bodies sodden with semen and sweat.  They lay together, chests heaving, panting in perfect rhythm with each other, Draco exhaling as Theodore inhaled, until their breaths quieted.

Theodore felt a slight pang of loss as Draco rolled off of him.  They lay beside each other, staring at the ceiling.

Theodore asked softly, “You alright?”

Draco chuckled. “Brilliant. You?”

Theodore laughed softly in return. “Fan-bloody-tastic.”

It couldn’t get any better than this.  But Draco astonished Theodore once more by curling his body against him in a post-coital embrace.  Theodore mused inwardly, “Who would have guessed Draco Malfoy liked to cuddle after sex?”  Truth be told, Theodore wasn’t one to linger after the deed had been done – another expression of his defense mechanism.  Yet Theodore found himself wanting nothing more than to stay there in Draco’s arms.

For the first time in his life, Theodore Nott felt complete.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment with words.  Instead, he let his body convey what he felt inside.  He wrapped his arms around Draco and kissed him softly until the blond man fell asleep.  Before Theodore followed Draco into Dream, he promised himself that he’d tell Draco that he loved him if he remained in the morning.  And if he weren’t there when Theodore woke up, he’d know that they truly were not fated to be together.  He would resign to the fact that this had just been a final act of closure, ending a very long and arduous chapter in his life.