Forbidden Union

Characters and world not mine... not making any money.



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London and the train station were incredibly difficult for Draco. He’d had several weeks to get used to his new awareness and learn what it meant to be a vampire, but that was in the relatively quiet grounds of the manor. The press of people, their strange emotions and the overpowering quantity of life around him were threatening to return him to the state of absolute contemplation he had been trapped in during the initial 3 days of his adjustment. Finally stepping through the barrier to platform 9 ¾ was a relief, and glowering around as if daring anyone to speak to him Draco found his way onto the train and to the carriage he would share with Crabbe and Goyle and various other Slytherins.



Four faces turned to him as he entered, Blaise and Nott noticed the look on his face and simply nodded hello before returning to their conversation. Apparently his scowl was too subtle for Crabbe and Goyle, and they continued to stare as he sat down.



“Well? Did you do it? Do you feel any different?” Goyle whispered, aware that no one but the three of them must know of the change. Turning his stare directly on Goyle he found himself studying him, sensing the greed and hunger for power that drove him, sensing also his deep seated jealousy of Draco, who had the money and charm he would never have, and now had been made a Death Eater and a Vampire. Goyle quailed under the study, sinking deep into his seat and Draco grinned suddenly and shockingly as he smelled the boy’s quickly rising fear in the sudden rankness of his sweat and felt it in his quickening heartbeat. Crabbe sat silent, content to let others do his thinking for him. For the first time Draco wondered why these two had become his best friends. Objectively he remembered at how a younger Draco had lapped up their worship and their unswerving loyalty, and wondered if he had ever truly been aware of their dense unintuitive baseness. They were not truly evil; just cruel and selfish and lacking in any redeeming qualities.



His new insight both depressed and amazed him and he turned his attention to the other two Slytherins occupying the carriage. Blaise- tall, dark skinned, with jet black hair and flashing eyes, he was sensuality; he lived to feel. Devastatingly intelligent and cunning, he manipulated those around him and respected nobody and nothing. Nott was small and ugly, and his mind suited his looks perfectly. Draco recalled stories of torture that both the father and son participated in at their home.



Without a word to his fellow Slytherin’s Draco rose and left the carriage, wandering aimlessly down the train. Behind each door he could feel pulses of life and emotion, Strong and primal as only a teenager can feel. Sex was everywhere, he could feel the lust, smell the awareness each teenager had for the other hormone charged bodies around them. It affected him deliciously and he remembered Carla’s smooth slender body that first night, the way he had slid into her, the feel of her small perfect breasts against his chest. He had been a virgin, and with his increased intuition he knew she had been too, and that she had hoped against hope for something special he had been unable to provide. He could have provided it now, but since the change she had not looked at him, much less let him touch her.



The carriage door next to him opened and Pansy Parkinson stepped out, seeing him she smiled in a way he suddenly knew was meant to be seductive. “Did you have a nice holiday Draco?” She purred and he smelled her desire for him. Obviously news of his marriage had not cooled her ardour. A younger Slytherin boy followed her out of the carriage and grabbed her hand, glaring at Draco, Pansy looked at him, clearly irritated but allowed him to lead her away. Draco smiled at the scene but the smell of sex lingered in the air and he turned and continued back down to the carriage he had come from.



Stepping back inside his eyes met those of Blaise, who smiled at him and raised one eyebrow. Draco nodded and Blaise rose and followed him from the carriage. They stepped into one of the toilet carriages and Blaise pushed him against the wall, pressing against him so both could feel the others erection. Blaise kissed him slowly, his tongue barely brushing against Draco’s own. The sensation was unlike anything Draco had felt, the soft rasping of tongues, the hard press of the body against his, the smell of arousal, the silky feel of Blaise’s long hair under his hand, under his other hand the round taut swell of buttocks, and under it all the fast thumping of Blaise’s heart, the blood filled with hormones pounding through his veins, filling his erection. The multitude of sensations pushed against Draco, each demanding to be noticed, and his expanded consciousness accepted and analysed them all. Blaise drew back a little and his hand snaked between them, drawing aside his robes with a practised flick and finding his hard pulsing erection. Gently he squeezed the head and with a slow stroke measured the length and breadth of him. With a strange double awareness he felt both his own reaction to the touch, and Blaise’s enthusiastic approval of him. Without knowing quite how it happened he realised that both of their robes were swept aside and their naked erections were exposed. Blaise was looking down at him, and he returned the attention. Blaise’s cock was smaller then his, dark and uncircumcised in a bed of black tightly curled pubic hair. He touched the head and then put his hand around it. He could feel the thudding pulse beneath his hand, filling the organ with blood. Idly he wondered what it would feel like to have it in his mouth, then wondered if he dared, the temptation to bite, to taste that blood might be too much, and he felt an overwhelming curiosity what blood would taste like when filled with hormones and lust. Blaise leaned closer and the heads of their cocks bounced together with a jolt like being hit by a stunning curse, then he stepped closer still and their lengths stood together, undersides rubbing with each panted breath. Blaise’s long slender fingers encircled them both and gently stroked up and down their lengths, the softness of his hand and the ribbed hardness of his penis forming an exciting contrast. Their breaths mingled between them through open lips as Blaise increased the pace. They both leaned into a hungry kiss at the same time, all teeth and thrusting tongues and panting breaths. Draco’s hands found Blaise’s taut bum and squeezed, his fingers digging into the flexed muscles. Blaise moaned into his mouth, and bit down on his lip, at the same time his hand squeezed tightly around them and he thrust against him. Draco felt hot fluid hit him in the stomach, and Blaise’s hand, suddenly slick, rubbed faster up and down his length until he found himself pumping uncontrollably until he too came, grunting and sweating, legs barely holding him up against the unyielding wall.



For about 30 seconds they stood, breathing returning to normal. Then Blaise pulled out his wand and performed a quick cleaning spell. Putting his wand away he softly ran his hand down the side of Draco’s face, making him open his eyes and look up at the taller boy, softly he kissed his lips, then gave him a small smile before stepping out of the small room.



Alone Draco stood contemplating. Thoughts of sexuality had never before entered his mind, he had known without a doubt he was straight, would one day marry and continue the Malfoy line. Now he found he simply didn’t care. Sex had been exciting and sensual, without the awkwardness and guilt that had always been present with Carla, back when she would actually sleep with him at all. Who cared about pointless questions of sexuality? He’d wanted something, and he had taken it; as was his right as a Malfoy, and as a living creature. His new clarity gave him confidence and a belief of his place in the world. Maybe being a vampire wasn’t so bad after all.