Sea Lover

Author’s Note: Written for the bottom!draco FQF. This fic is AU, and uses elements from both Harry Potter and Pirates of the Caribbean, and also some from the writer’s own mind. Here, Voldemort isn’t the snake-man he transformed into in the HP series, but is a more mature Tom Riddle—had he grown up normally. As for how old Draco is in this fic… I’m not telling exactly. But he’s young, he’s very young.

Babydraco’s challenge: The Pirate challenge. Voldemort is a pirate who has just raided a ship. Everyone on board is killed, except for the captain\'s beautiful son Draco, who is found by Voldemort. The new captain gives Draco a choice. Become his lover and submit to him completely, or be handed over to the crew.



Sea Lover

By Passo



Draco cowered fearfully in the dark. He had been hiding here, beneath the stairs in the ship’s lower levels, for around three hours. But he didn’t realize the time, and to him, it had been merely a few minutes ago when the Pirates struck his father’s ship. His father himself had hidden him here, with orders not to come out no matter what. Draco had tearfully clutched at Lucius’ sleeves but still, his father left, shielding his son from view with one of the wine barrels in the cellar.

“Is everyone gone?” Draco shivered upon hearing the deep voice. Was this their Captain—the leader of the legendary cursed men of The Black Pearl?

“Yes, Captain.”

“Clean the deck. I don’t want any corpses littering my new beauty.”

The blond felt a spark of animosity at the words. Whoever the Captain was, this wasn’t his ship! The Medea belonged to his father, Commodore Lucius Malfoy, and she was the pride of the whole fleet with her speed, beauty, and the fierce firearms stored inside her innocent belly. But in the end, the Medea proved to be an easy prey for The Black Pearl. Draco tried not to imagine about what his father might think about the Captain’s words, as Lucius might not even be alive right now.

“Throw them overboard!” The yell came from one of the pirates. Draco covered his ears. He imagined he could hear the sound of the bodies dropping to sea—the blood and saltwater mixing with their hair, drowning their open, dead eyes. He tried to shut himself from the sounds. He knew these people, his father’s men. Knew their families and friends on the islands. He would rather remember them alive than see them dead in his mind.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

Draco opened his eyes in surprise. The barrel covering him was gone, fully revealing the hiding boy to the tall pirate standing before him. Or, more correctly, the Captain of The Black Pearl. The man tapped his foot, waiting for Draco to respond.

“I… I…” Wide grey eyes were stark with fear, and Draco lost whatever he planned to say. All that crossed his mind right now were the words: I’m going to die.

“It seems that the ship isn’t the only prize I was meant to have.” The Captain grabbed his wrist and forced Draco to stand, examining the boy from head to toe. The narrowed green eyes glittered, as they stared right into Draco’s. “I found you just in time. I had been feeling a lack of serious entertainment during the past years.”

Draco’s mouth opened to scream. But the mix of fear, stress, and anxiety of the last three hours got to him, and he fainted—right into the arms of the Pirate Captain.

***

He regained consciousness not knowing where he was, or who he was. The memory of the day’s events came back to him in a flash, and he could barely suppress the sob that threatened to come out as he thought about his father. Lucius would never be there to play with him anymore, or tuck him to bed as the ship swayed in her salty cradle. No, those days ended with the coming of the pirates.

He opened his eyes slowly. He was in his father’s quarters, the Captains room. All the familiar things were here, unscathed, except for the one thing he wanted most to see. Draco willed himself not to think of Lucius at the moment as the sadness threatened to overwhelm him once more. He could give in to it and die, or he could try to escape. He was sure Lucius would have wanted him to do the latter.

The Captain of The Black Pearl was standing across him. He was facing the table, reading the maps spread on its surface by the faint light of the lamp. From his point of view, Draco could see him clearly: the high, proud forehead, the black hair winged with grey at the sides, and a strong, aquiline nose at the center of his thin face. At some other place, maybe, he wouldn’t have been scared of him—he reminded Draco of a dark version of his father. However, he knew who this man was and what he was capable of.

“Have you finished watching me?”

Draco started. He was sure that the Captain had never laid his eyes on him, or saw him staring. He had to admire his sharpness. Surely, the years at sea had taught him to sense more than what he could see.

“Come here, I want to show you something,” he stretched out his hand, calling Draco to come to his side. Draco stood stiffly, noticing that he had been bathed and cleaned while he was asleep. His hair was still damp and he was covered with one of his father’s robes. He must have been really unconscious to sleep through the whole episode.

He walked towards the table, barefoot. The light of the oil lamp suffused the whole room with a pale yellow glow, leaving the ers ers swathed in darkness. The green eyes called to him, unsmiling.

“My name is Voldemort, Captain Voldemort.”

“I am quite aware of that, Captain,” Draco answered quietly. He kept his eyes trained on the maps, refusing to look straight at the man.

“And what is your name?” Voldemort continued. “Surely, someone so beautiful would have a name.”

Beautiful? “Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

“I must be luckier than I thought,” Voldemort mused. “I have managed to catch a very worthy prize—the Captain’s son, himself.”

Tears of anger stung Draco’s eyes as he turned to look at him. “I am not a prize! Why do you insist on playing these games and keeping me alive? Just kill me right now and get on with it!”

Voldemort’s eyes widened in surprise. “Kill you? Why would I do such a thing?” He touched Draco’s hair with his slender fingers, chuckling softly when the boy angrily slapped his hand away. “You weren’t so averse to my touch when I bathed you earlier. I have better plans for you than leaving you to die.”

Draco laughed bitterly, “You mean to torture me.”

“No. I’m sure the crew would appreciate having such a plaything to share among their beds.”

Draco’s eyes widened as the words sunk to his brains. Plaything? He, Draco, was going to be a sex slave to the dirty, uncouth barbarians who killed his father and his men? Just the thought of their hands on his skin was enough to make him hurl, and he knew that he would rather end his life and jump overboard than succumb to their wishes.

“I would rather die,” he said defiantly.

Voldemort laughed, touching Draco’s shoulder with one hand. \"But wait! I haven’t finished.” He bent low and whispered to Draco’s ear, “Or… you could choose to be mine.” His lips touched the pale shell of the boy’s ear, teasing him with its warmth. “Completely.”

Draco shivered as the Captain’s hot breath touched his cheek. Completely. He had lived a charmed life, and knew he was luckier than most. His father had strived to give him everything a child would have dreamed of, and sheltered him from the pain the outside world had to offer. It was time to pay for his blessings.

His choice was already made even before he spoke. “Yes,” he whispered, a tear running down his cheek. “I will be yours.”

“A wise choice, dear boy.” He stood behind Draco, peeling the robe from the bare, bone-white shoulders. “I have been hungry for far too long.”

The grey eyes closed, blinking off the tears left unshed. He dreaded the days that were to come and could only hope that an opportunity would cfor for him to escape.

Draco felt the Captain’s warm lips on his skin—it touched his shoulder, gently kissing him all the way to his neck. “You smell good, like flowers.” A tongue suddenly licked his ear, it traveled inside, hot, and wet. Draco shuddered as Voldemort bit his right lobe gently. He placed his hand on the table, finding the sensation to be quite pleasant. No, more than pleasant.

“Do you like what I’m doing?”

“No,” Draco gasped. Hands slipped through the slit in his robe, searching for evidence around the boy’s naked thighs.

“Liar,” Voldemort teased. He touched the small penis, felt it hardening beneath his fingers as he stroked, massaging the pliant skin on Draco’s groin. There was barely any hair at the base, but what was present was soft, curly, and oh so lovely to touch. He unknotted the robe, letting it fall to the floor, pooled around Draco’s feet, revealing the body he craved so much. He pinched Draco’s hardened nipples, while trailing a line of wet kisses down his back. “Tell me you want this.”

Draco felt a wave of shame as he let his body respond to Voldemort’s caresses. He watched the strong, tanned hands that covered his skin. They were rough with years of seafaring, and they pressed down, rubbing him in places no one has ever touched—and he knew that he wanted it, he wanted this. He wanted the Captain to touch him in other places of pleasure—in places that would hurt.

Voldemort turned him until they faced each other. “Why don’t you look at me, d?” d?”

“I…” He decided to tell the truth. “I am ashamed.”

“Ashamed that I could make you want me?” Voldemort touched his chin, forcing Draco to look at him. At that moment, Draco became aware of his unclothed state, and he blushed, his cheeks stained with embarrassment. Voldemort smiled indulgently, “Don’t be ashamed, Draco. I am merely letting you feel what we’re all meant to feel: desire. Wanting me to touch you is no sin, and I am privileged to be the first to do this to you.”

He kissed Draco’s lips chastely, surprising the boy with its gentleness. “Perhaps I have moved too fast.” Draco shook his head, unable to answer.

The Captain took that as a sign and kissed him again, melding the young body against his own, hard, his arms vise-like around Draco. He forced open Draco’s lips with his tongue, sucking the pink lips ‘til they bled… he licked them, the red drops, savoring the taste of the morsel that was Draco.

Draco moaned against his mouth and pushed his hips against Voldemort. The fabric of the Captain’s pants felt sinfully good against the sensitive skin of his bare cock. He put his arm around the Captain, wanting to rub the full length of his naked body against him.

Voldemort lifted him, placing him atop mapsmaps on the table. He pushed Draco on his back, the boy’s feet braced on the edge as he stood between his bent legs. “So impatient, my pet,” he smiled. He wanted to taste him, see if he tasted as good as he smelled. He spread Draco’s legs even further and took the cock in his mouth. He sucked at the tip, licking off the shiny pre-come that glistened in drops as Draco moaned and stretched before him. The view of this boy drowning in pleasure was almost as good as he tasted. Voldemort licked the shaft fully, slowly, his hands kneading the boy’s bottom.

Draco whimpered as Voldemort licked the soft pink pucker of his hole, bathing the sensitive part thoroughly with his saliva. He wanted something he could not describe, and he felt frustrated about not knowing enough to tell the Captain what he wanted.

“I want…” he gasped.

“What is it?” Voldemort licked the opening again, delighting in seeing it contract below his lips. He licked his finger thoroughly before inserting it inside Draco’s hole, his own erection hardening further at the sound of Draco howling with want, as the boy scratched the surface of the maps beneath him. “Do you want this?” He moved his finger around, hitting the prostate teasingly as he watched him.

Draco closed his eyes, sobbing openly. Yes, he wanted that, and more! He raised his hips, his limbs shuddering with each wave of intense pleasure brought to him. “Yes!” he screamed. He was beyond thinking now, beyond shame, and all he could think of was his body’s desire, and the Pirate Captain who played it so wonderfully.

Voldemort could hold himself no longer. He unzipped his trousers, releasing the enlarged erection that was throbbing with desire for the blond boy that was spread so wantonly amongst his papers. He hurriedly reached for the bottle of fragrant oil, spreading it liberally on his cock. He had delayed penetration, worried that the young one might not be able to take his size, and he was wary of hurting his beautiful captive. But both of them had reached their limits, and all thoughts of g cag careful left his mind as he raised Draco’s hips and plunged straight into his heat.

He moved slowly at first, thrusting with gritted teeth into the wonderful tightness that sheathed his cock. Draco pushed his hips further, dancing with the rhythm of their sex, until they moved faster, thrusting… the sound of balls slapping against skin mixeth tth their cries in the silent lonely room of the ship.

Voldemort came with a yell, emptying himself fully within Draco. He stroked faster on the boy’s own erection, tightening his hold slightly until Draco came soon afterwards, yelling the name of the god his father had taught him to pray to every night. He lay there, panting beside the lamp, as Voldemort licked the come thaaineained the skin around his groin.

He giggled softly some minutes later. “That tickles.”

The Captain grinned, looking up from between Draco’s legs. “I can’t help it.” He licked the limp penis, laughing as it twitched with his touch. He hugged Draco’s hips, laying his face on the boy’s flat belly. He didn’t need to ask him if it was good for him. It was printed all over Draco’s flushed skin as they rested.

Draco felt his eyelids close. He was getting sleepy, and his comfortable position didn’t help. Just before he lost consciousness once more, he felt the Captain wrap him in his robe, and lift him up in his arms.

That’s when he thought that maybe… captivity wouldn’t be so bad after all.



FIN

(December 2003)

Note: Thanks for reading. ^_^ For more Passo-fics, go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/arcane_sins