Wicked Game

“A shattered heart can tear a world apart.”
-The Atrocity, Return of the Goddess

Draco sat on his bed, his knees brought close to his chest in an illusional comfort. Bruises blossomed on his fair skin. His face was streaked with dried tears. He didn’t know why he was rebelling so much lately. He understood it when he was with Blaise. He understood why his heart went against his father’s morals, but why was he doing such things with Dominic? He couldn’t possibly love him, could he? No, his heart felt nothing, but the lust that drove him toward the creature would most likely destroy him. Why was he doing all of this simply for lust? Suddenly, the -answer? problem?- entered the room, and even in those short seconds, Draco felt his muscles tense with the pulling desire. The red highlights shimmered in the glow of the lamp, and a pair of black jeans covered his lower half. The incubus no longer wore a shirt, and his feet were as bare as he stalked across th floor toward Draco. The latter watched him, trying to act as if nothing was the matter, when he stated,

“This is my private quarters, you know. Most have the decency to at least knock.”

“My apologies,” he replied, closing the door behind him. Next, his azure eyes swept over the Malfoy before continuing. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” Draco said, shifting his weight in a slightly nervous manner. “Nothing you can fix anyway.”

“Tell me anyway,” he purred, and he started to run a hand along the boy’s back, sending shiver down it. Malfoy’s eyes shut in peace as he took in every touch of the man’s body, and before he knew it, he had opened his mouth and started to speak.

“I was just thinking about everything that had happened before you appeared. You see, a piece of me is feeling extremely guilty about sleeping with you yet it was so enjoyable, and, I don’t know, it feels as if I can thrust you for some reason, but I barely met you. It makes no sense. Anyway, I guess I feel guilty, because the day before you, er, took me, my boyfriend and I broke up. It was because of Father. He hates the fact that I like men. He hates it, and he beat me the day he found us together. I remember the hot blood running down my back, slowly cooling in the night air. Bruises larger than I have now sprouted over my body in a painful essence. He took him away from me. He took my Blaise. I still wonder what he did with him that day. God, I wish Blaise was here right now. I miss him so much. I love him, or I think I do, but ever since I’ve been with you, I have been wondering that. I mean, if I loved him, how could I have discarded him so quickly? Why did you have that effect on me? Why do you have that effect on me?” Then, Draco place his face into his hands and began to sob, and the other wrapped his muscled arms around the boy, “comforting” him.

“Don’t cry, my dragon. It will be all right. I’m sure your father will let you have him back now that he has his Damion.”

“Damion? But what does he have to do with any of this, and who is he anyway?”

“You didn’t know? Damion was your father’s old lover.”

“What?!” Draco gasped.” But that can’t be! Father would never look at a man that way!” but Draco knew that wasn’t true. It had only happened once, but Draco had seen that gleam in his father’s eyes, and the battle went on behind it, every time he glanced Desir’s way.

“He loved him,” Desir continued. “But he learned that love does not conquer all.”

“What happened?” asked Malfoy, but Desir only kept his mouth shut, and he knew the incubus wasn’t going to utter another word.



Draco Malfoy slipped down the stairs the next morning, the smell of sizzling bangers greeting him. He turned the corner to enter the kitchen when he was met with a surprise. A man in about his late thirties, early forties, was sitting at the table, finishing off the last couple bites of his food. His long hair was in tangles around his face, black as the night sky, and it framed his cadaverous face, and his eyes. Draco’s own eyes widened as they took in the wonderful colour, or colours. The man looked up from his meal and stated,

“You must be Lucius’s son. I’m Damion Flieder. Forgive me for trespassing, but Lucius and I had some old business ve had to finish.”

“I figured as much. Someone mentioned you to me.”

“Really? And what did this someone say about me?”

“Nothing really,” the boy replied as he stacked piles of food upon his plate. He sat down across the man. Draco remembered what Desir had said. He had said Damion was his father’s past time lover, but if that was true, why was he so upset about Blaise? If he had loved him so much, why did his love end? How did it end? Draco watched the other as he thought his thoughts until he could no longer take it. “He told me you were lovers, you and my . . .”

“Father. Yes, Lucius had a, er, relationship ven ve vere young, but vie vould you care about voo your father bedded?”

“No particular reason,” Draco answered, clearing his plate with a flick of his wand. Then, he started back upstairs, not sure if the confirmed news should make him joyous or not. Why did his father hate men so much? What did Flieder do, if anything? Or perhaps the elder was still in denial of his sexuality after all these years? It seemed unlikely, but it was still a possibility. Maybe, he should go back to Dom and see if he could get any more information, but no, Desir wasn’t going to tell him anything else. Malfoy sighed, flinging himself on his bed in annoyance, and he knew that if he wanted the information, he would have to talk to his father or this Damion Flieder.



A few days had passed, and Draco Malfoy still hadn’t brought up the courage to confront the German. I mean, how would he feel if some snotty little kid started digging through his personal life? But it was the only way he could conjure up more hope to be with Blaise. He stood outside of the door and knocked on it.

“Er . . .Mister Flieder, may I have a word with you?” The door opened, and Draco was met with a pair of lavender eyes. The German wore a pair of black sleep pants, and that was it really. His hair had been hastily put up in a ponytail, and he replied with,

“Come in.” The German stalked back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, and Malfoy followed, closing the door behind him. He pulled up a chair, sitting in it in an uncomfortable manner.

“Mr. Flieder, I want to know about you and Father. I want to know what happened in your past. I want to know what caused you two to split.”

“Lucius . . . I remember ven I first met him. He vos sixteen, and it vos one of those moments vair it just sparked. It vos a vile until ve had gotten together for he vos still in denial, but he finally succumbed to his temptations. Vell, after a vile, ve started to haff problems, or a problem. Dominic vos getting jealous, mostly because I had taken his goal from him, but he started to mess vith us. He tried to seduce your father, and he vould haff succeeded had I not haff walked in on them, but that day had planted doubt in my heart, and Dominic knew it so he gave up on haffing Lucius in his bed, and tried for me. Let’s just say he succeeded. I hate that I fell in his clutches. I still feel so guilty about it. Vell, your father found out, and ve ended up going our separate vays. I guess, Lucius had given up on men after that.” Then, after a few moments of silence, Draco finally asked,

“So Dominic Desir ruined what you had? He destroyed your love?”

“Nein. He destroyed our relationship, but our love is still there. The fire is just burning embers now, that’s all,” and Draco, somehow, he understood what the male foreigner meant.