The Kiss

Word Count: 3269
Beta-reader:: miraba
Warnings M/M/F threesome.
Disclaimer: I wrote this fanfic for completely non-commercial enjoyment. All characters are not mine and are copyrighted and trademarked by their owners/publishers.


The Kiss
by Ravenna C. Tan

I made my way to the Black Tabard Inn--the one just outside Glasgow, not the one in Wiltshire--on a misty evening, with my misgivings and my curiosity still battling over whether I should be there at all. From under the eves of the inn, the female gargoyle there winked at me, which I took as a good sign.

I was there to meet two gentlemen wizards, which was not in and of itself unusual. Plenty of moneyed wizards in power enjoy a good threesome with a chum. The fact that I had never met them before, and yet that they had known how to contact me, that was unusual. Though I look perpetually twenty-three, it had been decades since I had met a new client by any means other than an ironclad referral or personal introduction. So I was wary. I had instructed them to each wear a purple flower pinned to his robes. That way I could get a look at them before I decided whether to meet with them or not. And though my magic is not as obvious as theirs, I have my ways.

I saw them immediately, two young wizards in their mid-twenties, sitting at a corner table, looking pensive. They were wearing identical purple roses, either very rare or bespelled. Roses. Now I was intrigued for more than one reason. Why would two handsome specimens of wizardhood such as these contact me? One blond, one black-haired, they were sweet enough to look at and far too young to need my services. If not for the roses, my best guess would have been that one of them hoped to cure the other of his homosexual tendencies.

You see, roses mean love.

If, for example, one had been wearing a foxglove and the other periwinkle, I would know I was in for a rather energetic evening, perhaps one with a touch of competitiveness. A showy flower like a delphinium meant a brash lover, a sprig of lilac, a tender one. Wizards know nothing of this, which is why this form of divination works.

That they wore matching flowers also told me that one of the two of them had chosen for them both. They were together, a partnership or couple of some sort. They were wearing light glamours, not enough to hide their appearances completely, but just enough to make recognition difficult. Still, I doubted I had met them before.

But now I wanted to. The maitre d' brought me to their table, pulled out my chair for me, and I sat with a rustle of my violet skirts and robes. "Gentlemen," I said, with a nod.

"Miz Dotterel," said the blond, and he thanked me for coming. "You'll be wondering how we came to contact you."

I arranged my hands, still in lilac-colored gloves, across my lap. "Why yes, I had hoped you would enlighten me."

He nodded with a half-smile. "My father knew you, I believe." In the Biblical sense, he thought to himself--a thought I couldn't help catching--and I smiled. "He... he has passed on, I'm afraid."

Hmm. The blond was probably the horny one, the other being dragged along for the ride. "Came upon my card in his study, did you?" I accepted a crystal goblet of water from the waiter, never taking my eyes from the two men.

The blond colored slightly. "Something like that, yes. We... have a need for discretion."

"Of course you do, or you wouldn't be bothering with me." I sipped and looked at them. They were probably Death Eaters--well, former ones, though they must have been among the last of You-Know-Who's recruits as they were definitely no older than twenty-five. Perhaps they were looking for a taste of what they were missing. Couldn't very well go about bragging in Wizarding society about what great orgies they'd had, could they?

In my younger days I had been to a few of those Death Eater orgies. They had been diverting, to say the least, though I could have done without the blood. In some ways a bunch of power-drunk Death Eaters were better than my typical clientele (heads of state in need of blow jobs during treaty negotiations and the like). They were certainly more fun. Nothing personal for those into that sort of thing, but regardless of my heritage, it's just never been to my taste.

"Are you old school chums?" I asked.

"Yes," said the dark-haired one, the first time he'd spoken, and my opinion of them changed. In that one word, I knew the blond was not in charge. I could read none of this one's thoughts, but I could feel the authority ripple from his voice in waves.

"You are familiar with my terms?" I addressed this to the blond, who nodded. Hmm, I had been right about one thing--he was the needy one. The tension between them was strung taut and he fairly thrummed with anticipation.

The dark-haired one spoke again. "We won't hurt you."

It was the most important of all the terms to me, but not usually the one paramount to my clients. "Nor I you," I replied. "Now, Mr. Plover," thus I christened the one with the golden hair, "and Mr. Bittern," to the other, "shall we dine, or shall we commence with the festivities?"

Plover opened his mouth, but hesitated.

"We dine," said Bittern, who looked at me curiously. "I would enjoy a fine meal in the company of a lady."

His blond companion nodded and signaled for the waiter.

We dined on pheasant, with wild ducks' eggs poached in greens, and I don't recall what else. I learned very little of them in the course of the meal, as expected, though I observed more of the strange tension between them.

It was often like this, with twosomes. Perhaps one was a reluctant partner and the other would only oblige him if a woman was present? As I said before, if they were just two young, rich, horny wizards looking for a threesome, I was hardly the easiest choice.

After the meal, we left the Tabard and walked a few blocks away to Disapparate. Mr. Bittern went first, and then Mr. Plover held tight to me to take me along, crushing the rose on his chest against me.

"Just do as he says," he whispered to me, just before we disappeared in a cloud of rose scent.

The bedroom they brought me to was large and the furniture ornate, but sparse. A guest bedroom in a manor house, I surmised, probably somewhere in the British Isles, though France was also a possibility. Mr. Plover released me and I stepped back with a swish of my violet skirts.

Mr. Bittern was sitting on the edge of the bed, in just his shirt and trousers, his bare feet swinging like a little boy's. I looked up into Mr. Plover's grey eyes for a cue.

"Allow me," he said, gesturing to my robes. He slid my outer robe from my shoulders and began to work at the buttons closing the bodice of my dress in front.

As my shoulders were bared, Bittern whispered "Touch her."

Plover ran his hands from my face down my neck, over my shoulders and then slid them under my breasts, uncupping them from the supporting fabric inside the dress and freeing them. He ran his thumbs over my nipples and I arched into him. He ran his hands down my back then, pressing my bare flesh against his robes and letting his hands work their way around the curve of my buttocks.

Mr. Bittern had his wand in his hand, and in the next instant, Plover's bare skin touched mine. His skin was fine and soft like a woman's, as golden as the rest of him and nearly hairless, and it felt lovely to be pressed against him, his hunger evident in his moan and the way his hands slid further into my dress.

"Put her up here," Bittern said, and Plover lifted me up, skirts and all, and sat me in Bittern's lap. I could feel his erection through his trousers against my bum, and Plover stood between my legs, his hands now cupping my face as he leaned down for a kiss.

Bittern's hands circled me from behind, tweaking my nipples as his partner took my mouth. They had definitely done this before and I wondered with whom. My cry of pleasure escaped when Plover took a deep breath, and I could feel his cock against my stomach as he arched his back.

Bittern slid his hands down my stomach and into my panties, one finger seeking out how wet I was. Sopping, he found, and smeared my clit with the thick juices, making me moan harder.

His voice was soft. "She's ready, Draco."

His wand never left his hand, as he was the conductor of our little trio, and he Vanished his own clothes and clambered backwards onto the bed. Draco, that had to be an old Wizarding name, a Pureblood sort of name. My impression that they were former Death Eaters deepened. Now that I knew his name, I couldn't make the one I had given him stick. Draco helped me out of the rest of my things, peeling the stockings from my legs and slipping the garters off, then encouraged me to slide back between Mr. Bittern's legs.

I could feel Bittern's erection against my spine and he played with my nipples again as Draco climbed onto the bed toward us, looking delectable. It isn't often in my profession that I get to enjoy such a morsel. His cock jutted red and eager from his body, bobbing as he crawled toward me.

I spread my legs and Mr. Bittern helped, heaving me up onto him and holding my right leg under the crook of my knee.

Draco used his hand to adjust his angle, dragging the head of his cock back and forth through the juices, coating it and teasing me at the same time. I whimpered. Then he sank into me, and I drew a deep and pleasurable breath as he did so.

Now I could see more clearly into his feelings. His desire to please his partner was much more intense than his own need for pleasure or release, though that was strong as well. Curious. When he established a rhythm, he said, very close to my ear "Is this all right?" but I knew it was not me he was talking to.

"Yes," Bittern replied. His hands roamed over my stomach and bosom and Draco bit his lip hungrily. Every thrust pushed my backbone against Bittern's erection and they both began to pant. They had magic in spades, these two, and as their magic rose up like steam and tangled with my power, I could feel the knot of something tangled between them.

"Shallow," he then whispered to his companion, who obliged, fucking me with short strokes as Bittern's fingers slipped over my clit.

"Yes," Draco hissed, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, as they worked in tandem, Bittern's fingers matching his rhythm.

They fucked me that way, with Bittern under me and Draco on top. Sandwiched between them as I was, there was little I could do to add to the experience. I reached back to tousle Mr. Bittern's hair and the sound that escaped his throat as I did was a whimper of pure innocence.

"Kiss him," I said to Draco. "He needs it."

Draco made a choking sound and looked questioningly at his partner. The knot of magic tightened like a noose.

Hmm. I let my power unfurl fully. "It's all right," I said. "I've got you," as if they were walking a tightrope and I held the net. "Kiss him."

Under me Bittern tensed as he craned his neck upward to accept the kiss.

When their lips met, over my right shoulder, I felt the power spark in my belly, like when hot and cold air meet and make a thunderclap. The love between these two was deep and abiding, and I thought perhaps Bittern had begun to cry. But the crackle had a dark edge to it, even as the kiss broke and Draco nearly slipped out of me. I still didn't know why they needed me between them, but they clearly did.

"Harry..." Draco breathed, pleading with his mouth still pressed against his partner's cheek, secrecy forgotten.

"Faster," Harry said, and Draco picked up his rhythm again, nodding.

And so we fucked for a time longer, as they worked me, Draco with his cock, Harry with his hands.

By now I knew who they were, of course, though I wanted to doubt my ears. So the rumors about Harry Potter and his pet Death Eater were true, at least in part. Potter had disappeared so thoroughly from Wizarding society after the war that most thought he had moved to India or America or somewhere. Draco then must be Draco Malfoy, and yes, I did remember his father. And his father's father. Neither of them had been so sweet to taste, though.

They were intent on making me come. Harry's fingers were quick and sure, and I could sense him doing something magical, his wand in his hand. My guess was it was a spell to keep Draco from coming. Draco was keening, nearly sobbing on every thrust now, his face contorted.

"Slow down," Harry told him. "She's a little over-stimulated."

He was right; though I was enjoying the sensory overload, I was not close. With the hand that was at my groin, he used his fingers to spread me wide and just gently tweak my clit with his middle finger.

"Yes," I hissed, my hips bucking up to meet Draco's thrust.

The blond dipped his head and sucked on one of my nipples. Oh, they were being sweet to me. I let my power flow over them and I heard Harry gasp under me. Yes. Feel it, feel the swirl of his tongue over the nub of flesh. Feel the hard length of him slide into your body. There are many things I can do your average witch cannot.

I felt Harry's chest heave under me. He was crying. Even as his middle finger brought me closer and closer to orgasm, he cried.

I turned my attention to Draco, feeding him the sensation of Harry's breath on the back of my neck, the hot wetness of his tears as he pressed against me. There was such longing in both of them, I fed hungrily at it--so much more satisfying than the petty, guilty lusts I was used to.

I could not tell you who came first. Whatever charm Harry had been using, he released, and he, and Draco, and I, all began to spasm. My power hit its peak, which meant we all came not once, but three times, as I dragged them along with me.

"Kiss again," I said, too breathless to explain why. "Kiss again."

This time Draco did not hesitate as he leaned over me, his mouth connecting with Harry's, and the jolt of power brought me to climax again, one last time, blurring my vision and turning my limbs to jelly.

When my vision cleared, Draco was curled up with me under the coverlet and Harry was no longer there.

"Is it a curse?" I asked.

"What?" He lifted his head and I saw him now entirely without the glamour. So, the grey eyes were his true color.

I kissed him on the cheek. "I'm not part-succubus for nothing, Draco," I said. "What keeps you apart? There's a reason you needed me in the middle."

Those grey eyes were wide with apprehension.

"Did you think you could keep secrets from me, Draco Malfoy? I know who he is, too. You have nothing to fear from me." I sat up, tucking the coverlet around my waist. "Isn't that why you came to me?"

"I hoped..." He could not look up at me. "That's the first time I've kissed him in years."

That much had been obvious. "Why?"

"It is a curse. Or very much like one." For a moment I thought he meant it was some kind of Muggle affliction, like homophonia or whatever they call it, but he elaborated. "Normally, whenever we touch each other, it makes us... turn on each other. The more intimate the touch, the worse the backlash."

"And you've been unable to reverse it?"

He shook his head miserably.

"You-Know-Who?"

"Of course. For my betrayal." He looked up at the sound of water running and I realized his partner must be in the en suite washroom.

"Is it only you who is afflicted? Or is it both of you?"

"Only with each other," he said. "And yet he's stayed with me all these years."

"And you with him."

He blushed.

"And you make do, with masturbation, and telling each other stories, and once in a while you hire someone like me so that you can at least feel connected to each other." I could read it in his face. "Most couples under a Sundering Malediction would have done much worse."

Harry suddenly stuck his head into the room, holding the washroom door partly ajar. "What did you call it?" He had obviously heard every word.

"The Sundering Malediction. You-Know-Who must have had the help of an incubus or a minor demon."

Draco was sitting up next to me now, my hands in his. "And that's why the curse didn't lift when he was killed."

Harry climbed onto the bed, looking at Draco with an accusing look in his eye, but his voice was mild when he said: "You didn't tell me she was a succubus." He carded his fingers through my hair as he said it.

"Excuse me, part-succubus," I said, turning my head to accept a kiss from him.

"I wasn't sure," Draco admitted, nuzzling my neck as he spoke. "I only knew the rumors."

Their tongues were now loose in more ways than one. It was a pleasant surprise how drunk on my power they were, as they lay me down between them and kissed and petted me while they took turns describing to me how they had met and become lovers while fighting You-Know-Who.

"If I were an actual succubus," I said, as they each sucked on a nipple, "I might be able to undo the curse. As it stands, I'm not sure it can be done."

They were suddenly both looking into my eyes. My gaze darted from one to the other.

Draco spoke first. "But you think there's a chance."

Harry, though, as usual, spoke with the voice of authority. "Let's not get our hopes up. For now, I'll settle for this." And he reached across me and kissed his lover again.

I felt sure that with some practice, I would soon be able to let them do much more than that. As long as my power was fed. And as long as these two desired each other, I would never go hungry.

=fin=


[If you enjoyed this fic, I have written a lot more H/D, some of which is archived here, but only some of it. All of it is found at my LiveJournal: http://ravenna-c-tan.livejournal.com. Friend me to see everything new as it comes out!]