Shouldn\'t

Disclaimer: As if Rowling would actually pair Draco with Marcus. Really now. I\'m not Rowling, I don\'t own Harry Potter or any of the characters, and I\'m not making any money with this fic.

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Was it so odd? So odd to be so familiar with the sensation of that large, hard hand wrapping around his throat and pinning him up against the wall? Should he not want this? Should he be worried that he did want it? Draco didn’t even know anymore.

He struggled weakly, though he knew just as well as Marcus did that he wasn’t serious. He didn’t want to escape, and even if he did he was hardly strong enough to get away. Marcus had been able to overpower him back when they were at Hogwarts together, and now that he’d been a professional Quidditch player for so long… well, he could likely break Draco’s neck with a small twist of his wrist at this point.

That shouldn’t be as exciting as it is…

Draco’s head smashed back against the wall again, bringing things back into focus.

“Eyes front, cocksucker. Can’t ignore me like that.”

I wasn’t really ignoring you…

The fingers at his neck tightened and Draco found himself struggling to breathe. At the same time, Marcus’ other hand slipped into Draco’s trousers and found his cock. His fingers were rough and calloused, making the skin harder than his own. The sensation of it running over his erection sent shudders up and down Draco’s spine. This combined with his dwindling air supply made Draco’s head begin to spin and his eyesight blur.

He was on his toes now, weakly arching against Marcus as his hand tugged hurriedly at his cock. It hurt a bit, but Draco was a long way from caring at this point. From beneath half-lidded eyes he watched Marcus watching him; that big, crooked-toothed snarl of a grin took up almost his entire face. A flash of memory from the last time they’d met flew through his head, and his shoulder tingled from where Marcus had bitten him then.

Draco was an inch from orgasm and even closer to passing out when Marcus released him. Draco’s knees struck the wooden floor, leaving an ache there as he bent forward, coughing and gasping for air. He was given time to catch his breath before the same hand that had been at his neck moved to the back of Draco’s skull to grab his longish blond hair in a fist. He found himself directed to the now open fly of Marcus’ pants, the familiar smell of skin, sweat, and musk filling his nostrils. When Draco hesitated, Marcus yanked harshly on his hair until Draco opened his mouth.

He’d always had a bit of trouble with this part, but Draco obediently let Marcus thrust into him, the hinges of his jaw already beginning to hurt. Concentrating on keeping his teeth away and his tongue in the proper place while holding back his gag reflex, Draco closed his eyes and let Marcus proceed to fuck his mouth. His head was still spinning from being choked earlier, and the rapid back and forth movement of his head did little to help him reestablish his bearings. The fingers in his hair tightened as Marcus got closer, but Draco knew what that meant. Sure enough, a moment later Draco’s head was shoved down towards the ground.

“You’re no fun tonight, Draco. Didn’t think it was possible for you to be any more of a pussy, but I guess I was wrong. What happened in these last few months? You and Potter run off to get married or some other bloody wanking nonsense like that?”

Draco bristled, pushing himself up off the floor. He knew this game. Marcus was provoking him because he preferred a good fight. And why shouldn’t he fight? He was Draco Malfoy, not some cheap whore. Why did he let Marcus do this to him? Shouldn’t he have stopped this by now? After all these years, shouldn’t he have just stopped visiting him? Shouldn’t he…

Draco made a run for the door. It should have been serious, but Draco knew he wasn’t moving as fast as he could. He knew that if he’d dodged around the other side of that chair, he’d have made it to the door before Marcus. He knew that if he’d thrown a shoulder in the way, he could have squeezed out the door as Marcus shoved it closed. But he didn’t. The door closed in front of him just as he reached it, with Marcus’ arm blocking his way.

“That’s almost more like it, Malfoy…”

The same leer, the same mixture of fear and arousal. Draco took a few steps backwards, a hand behind him to feel for the table he knew was there. It fumbled, groping around the surface as subtly as he could while backing away, Marcus in slow but steady pursuit. Finding the gilded base of the decorative lamp, Draco grasped it firmly and swung it towards Marcus’ head. He shouldn’t have cared about whether or not it would hurt him, shouldn’t have taken the time to moderate the speed of his swing, shouldn’t have made sure that if the blow did connect, it wouldn’t do any real damage…

Predictably, Marcus grabbed Draco’s wrist before the lamp even came close to him, twisting Draco’s hand backwards painfully so that he dropped his weapon. The metal clattered against the wood and the bulb broke with a loud popping sound, followed by the crunch of the pieces under Marcus’ heavy boots.

“There we go… much better… don’t give up on me now, cocksucker. Fucking impress me, why don’t you?”

Marcus still held Draco by his right wrist, so Draco swung his left hand around, balled into a fist, managing to bring it up under Marcus’ chin. Draco was sure the attack hurt his own hand more than it hurt Marcus, but it still left the other man dazed enough for Draco to pull away and stumble further back into the room. Rough, gravelly laughter bubbled up from Marcus as he recovered, resuming his slow stalking of Draco.

Draco’s hand still hurt. He’d never even tried to punch Marcus before, figuring that he’d only regret it, but it seemed now that perhaps he was wrong. Marcus seemed more amused than anything else. Draco’s legs hit the baseboard of the bed, halting his retreat. A moment later Marcus was looming over him again, standing a good foot or so taller and wider than Draco did.

Draco’s heart quickened. This was where Marcus would push him back onto the bed, flip him over, and take him. All of this struggling and fighting, it was all just foreplay for Marcus. Draco’s erection still throbbed inside his opened pants, and he found himself squirming under Marcus’ stare.

The fist that connected with the side of Draco’s face was unexpected and quite painful. The following knee to his gut knocked the air out of him, leaving him stunned and breathless before he finally fell back onto the bed. The weight that settled against his hips was familiar and comforting, but the stinging slap across his left cheek wasn’t. This game had never gone this far. Draco worried in the back of his mind that he might have a bruise the next morning.

There was a rip and a shower of buttons as Marcus tore away Draco’s fine silk shirt. Stars flickered in front of his eyes still as both rough hands splayed across his pale chest, scraping across the skin before dragging down to leave deep red trails from fingernails. Draco shrugged off the remaining fabric as best he could, though his arms got stuck in the sleeves from the way the clothing was pulled and pinned beneath their bodies.

“Hah! You did it! I can’t bloody believe you actually did it!”

At first Draco was confused, blinking his sight back as he craned his neck to look up at Marcus. It had been over a month since he’d had it done, and he certainly hadn’t shown anyone it and indeed had nearly forgotten all about it. But as the cold in the room pricked at his skin, the cold metal against his skin made him realize what Marcus was talking about.

“Guess you liked that suggestion after all, didn’t you?” Marcus tugged at the silver hoop that pierced through Draco’s right nipple, cruelly pulling the skin upwards before letting it go. Draco hissed beneath him, his torso twisting under the other man’s weight. The piercing had been an impulse after his last meeting with Marcus. He should have been regretting it around now. He wasn’t.

More nails raked their way down Draco’s side as Marcus descended on the tiny silver hoop. His mouth fastened around the piercing, pushing it this way and that with his tongue before his teeth caught it and pulled. Draco’s body bent upwards like a bow, a long cry tearing itself from his throat. His arousal only increased as he rocked against Marcus’ weight. Vibrations danced over the tortured bit of flesh as Marcus laughed at him, but he didn’t stop. The tugging grew more insistent and more painful. Draco put his hands on Marcus’ shoulders to try to push him away, only to find both wrists promptly pinned above his head.

“Ah-ah-ah, Malfoy. Take some bloody responsibility for your actions, would you? I told you last time what I’d do if you ever got one of these.”

Right. Torture me until I come. But I should still struggle, shouldn’t I?

He squirmed and fought against Marcus’ grip a few more minutes before stopping, a cry of pain filling the room as Marcus’ teeth bit down on more than just the silver hoop. Tears sprung to Draco’s eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. Marcus was holding both his wrists in just one of his hands now, the other teasing his unpierced nipple leaving Draco with nothing to do but moan and thrust desperately against Marcus’ leg that had since settled between his own.

It seemed like forever but still not long enough before Draco finally managed to orgasm from the torment. His body grew stiff and arched off the bed, and a scream he’d never known to be in him made his ears ring as he came. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Marcus was smirking triumphantly down at him. A moment later he was flipped unceremoniously onto his stomach and his trousers were pulled down to his ankles.

Positioning Draco on his knees with his head lying flat on the mattress, Marcus moved behind him and pulled his cock out of his own trousers. There was no preparation, no warning, just the painful dry friction as Draco was entered. His body protested the sudden invasion, clenching up and trying to expel the cock from inside him, but Marcus wouldn’t have it. He groaned loudly instead and began thrusting. The ring of muscles tensing around Marcus burned as they were forced to stretch.

Marcus was as loud as ever as he fucked Draco, all but drowning out Draco’s pained sobs. A few coherent words made their way to Draco’s ears, but he could barely hear them.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t let this happen. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. I shouldn’t have come back.

The bed creaked and groaned as the metal springs moved and the wood shifted back and forth with each violent thrust. The wet slap of skin on skin mixed with the sobbing and the groaning to make the oddly familiar song that would come back to Draco every night after each encounter. Through all this, Draco’s erection had come back in full force and now hung alone, untouched beneath him as he was fucked. Draco’s hands curled into fists, clutching desperately at the sheets just trying to hold on. The hands on his hips gripped him tight enough to leave bruises. It hurt, it burned, and it wasn’t right at all.

With a sound that could best be described as a cockney roar, Marcus came deep inside him, the hot liquid filling Draco and finally allowing his muscles to relax. There were a few more shallow thrusts as Marcus finished before he pulled out, letting Draco collapse to the bed gasping and still painfully aroused. Calloused hands pushed Draco to roll over onto his back before the larger body of Marcus Flint settled down along side him with a contented sigh.

Whimpering softly, Draco turned his head to watch Marcus who was carelessly wiping himself off on the fine hotel sheets. Their eyes met and Draco’s look read as clearly as any begging that he shouldn’t do. Marcus gave a patient sigh, as if he’d been nagged into doing some unwanted chore. His hand found Draco’s cock, wrapping as firmly around it. Perhaps the situation seemed to normal or too loving for Marcus, because soon his other hand was back at Draco’s throat, tightening as much as the hand on his cock had.

Draco found himself short of breath but not quite choking as Marcus worked his erection. He gasped while rocking helplessly against the hand, arching up off the bed as his muscles tightened. It wouldn’t take much at this point. A few more thrusts, a tightening grip around his throat, and Draco came harder than he had before. His body flopped limply back against the bed as Marcus wiped his hand clean on Draco’s stomach before turning over to go to sleep.

Draco shouldn’t have been in that room. He shouldn’t have been all but naked, covered in sweat and semen and small traces of blood. He shouldn’t have allowed any of it to happen. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep, thinking of when he could next find time to visit Marcus again. And he shouldn’t have loved him.