Catching Birds

Apparently, this bird was a bit harder to catch. Draco had plotted and

made brilliant plans but, somehow, he would always forget them when

Potter actually appeared. Wednesday after Wednesday, Draco had been

caught and manhandled from his broom and then buggered senseless

high in the night air. It wasn't a bad, horrible fate, but the whole

situation was beginning to get on Draco's nerves. Potter used his veela

charms excessively, and ensnared Draco during their meetings to the

point of absolute embarrassment. That just had to stop.

So Draco

decided on a different approach this Wednesday.

He was sitting on the sofa and staring at the wall, going through his

plan, making sure he didn't miss anything. He had spent the entire

week reading up on veelas and had reached some conclusions regarding

Harry Potter's behaviour. Obviously, Draco had thought of ways to

exploit his newfound knowledge.

"It's Wednesday, and you know what that means." Pansy's voice broke

through Draco's thoughts.

"What?" he asked, aware he had lost the thread of the conversation.

Possibly a few hours ago.

Pansy sighed, and rolled her eyes. "You asked me whether I'd leave

soon. And I said 'Yes, you rude bastard!'" Pansy crossed her arms over

her chest. "It's Wednesday. It's fantasy night. Theo gets the most

amazing ideas on Wednesdays! I have to be home for that," she said

delightedly while Draco's eyes widened in horror. Oh, no! Pansy

was clearly in her let's-share-our-experiences mood. Her face lit up and

she smiled gleefully as she continued. "This one time —"

"Pansy!" Draco yelled, standing up.

"— he carved up a pumpkin —"

Draco covered his ears, wishing someone would save him. After a few moments, he moved his hands away, and listened to see if it was over.

"— and stuck two dildos — can you imagine? — right in —"

Draco covered his ears again. "Pansy, please. I don't want to

hear it!" Oh the mental images! Pansy was still talking so

Draco pressed his hands over his ears harder. Suddenly, Pansy's mouth

closed, and after a moment, Draco lowered his hands carefully.

Pansy grinned victoriously. "It was like a little orange pony!" she

squealed, clearly delighted with Draco's misery.

Draco glared. "Are you done?"

"Yes," Pansy sniffed. "You are very rude. First you ask for my help, and

now you don't even want to share stories."

"You don't hear me telling you what I'm planning to do with the chains. Some things

shouldn't be shared," Draco declared decidedly.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "You're no fun," she accused.

Draco threw his head back in exasperation. "Pansy ..."

"Fine. I'm leaving." She waved her hand impatiently and moved to the

door. Draco sighed in relief, following her. "Have fun tying up your

bloke, then," Pansy said, stepping through the doorway and turning

around, casting her gaze this way and that way, all over the hallway as

though expecting Draco had someone hidden in there.

"It's a bird, actually." Draco grinned.

Pansy blinked. "Sorry? You're gay," she informed him. "You told me you

were gay!"

"Hurry home. It's fantasy night, remember? Maybe Theo will get a real

pony this time." Draco smirked and closed the door even though Pansy had opened her mouth to say something else.

Honestly, what had he been thinking? Asking Pansy for favours. She'd been

in his home for the last three hours, and Draco's ears were ringing. Not

to mention it was pretty late, and Draco had things to do.

He rushed upstairs to his bedroom and unwrapped the package that

Pansy had brought for him. He took out the beautiful silver chains, and after

admiring them for a moment, went to the balcony, and set to work.

After many carefully cast charms, Draco grinned in satisfaction and

decided on his next course of action.

He left the balcony doors open, pulling the curtains apart, and lit many

candles around the room, making sure that there was enough light.

Then he took a special potion, he had designed and brewed himself —

something he was very proud of — and after a quick cold shower that

did little to quell his arousal, found himself lying on top of silk sheets on

his four-poster bed.

This was the first Wednesday in a long time that Draco hadn't gone

flying. He had no wish to be caught again. If Potter wanted him, he

would have to come here and get him.

Draco stretched luxuriously and ran his fingers over his chest and

stomach, a small thrill coursing through him. He knew very well that

with the balcony doors open and curtains pulled apart, the candlelight

made sure that Draco's every action was visible to anyone who might

fly by his house.

Draco took a tube from beneath his pillow and squeezed some lube into his hand. He spread his legs and reached down, smearing the silky

substance over his cock. He caressed the hard flesh teasingly, dragging

a finger over the vein on the underside, and then circled his thumb over

the head. He was in no rush — this was not how he planned to come

tonight.

There was a rustle outside so Draco quickly closed his eyes. He stopped teasing himself and grabbed his cock firmly, arching his body and thrusting his pelvis upwards, enjoying the long, slow strokes.

Through a haze of pleasure, he heard a thud, a gasp, the clicking of chains, and finally a long string of loud curses.

Smirking, Draco opened his eyes. The expected sight appeared before

him, though Draco's breath hitched nonetheless. He had forgotten what

a forceful presence the veela was. Potter stood glaring in the doorway,

tied firmly on the spot as the result of Draco's charms. The thin chains

were wrapped around his wrists, making him hold his hands high above

his head. Potter struggled fruitlessly, flapping his wings and yanking on

the silver binds.

Draco stood up gracefully and approached the struggling veela, though

he decided to stay a safe distance away.

"Fancy meeting you here," Draco echoed Potter's greeting of some

weeks ago, with a smirk.

"Untie me!" Potter growled in a way that made Draco's cock twitch.

Draco shook his head, trying to appear unperturbed and exasperated.

"I tied you up for a reason, Potter."

Potter growled again, tugging on the chains so hard Draco jumped, worried for a second that Potter would, not only free himself,

but tear down the house as well. However, the chains didn't budge, and Potter

could do little but fume in agitation.

"This is what you get for being a voyeur." Draco smiled, appraising his

prey and licking his lips.

Potter's fury was palpable, not to mention frightening as he stared at

Draco through the messy locks of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

"Come here," Potter whispered.

Draco blinked as weakness spread through his body and suddenly he

felt compelled to obey, but he had some trouble moving his feet.

"Come. Here," Potter repeated, and Draco moved at once,

finding himself standing right in front of Potter within seconds. "Good,"

Potter praised, his voice smooth and silky. Draco was entranced by

Potter's full lips, and he stared longingly as they parted and Potter

murmured, "Untie me."

That sounded like a reasonable request now that Draco thought about

it. Why on earth shouldn't he untie Potter? Draco raised his hand but

then caught the angry look in Potter's eyes. Draco frowned, trying to

work through his confusion and quite suddenly, the fog lifted from his

mind as Draco came to his senses, and realized what had happened.

"You — stop that!" he scolded. "Your veela charms won't work

on me. I took a potion that heightens one's power to counter

mind-control. So don't even try it." Draco could only hope that Potter

would listen to this. He had indeed taken the potion, but apparently,

Potter's charms were stronger than anticipated.

Potter snarled and pulled on the binds madly, looking so terrifying

Draco jumped backwards in fear. Honestly, this would be harder than

Draco imagined.

"What do you want?" Potter asked through clenched teeth.

"Well first," Draco walked over to his night-cabinet and retrieved his

wand, "I'd like to make sure you don’t free yourself from these chains

with your special powers." After a flick of Draco's wrist, a wand

sprang from Potter's sleeve and flew into Draco's outstretched hand. "Or

not so special." Draco smirked. In all those books he had read this

week, there was nothing to indicted veelas had any special gift for

wandless magic. Obviously, Potter just used his charms to confuse and

then cast spells just like everybody else, but secretly, with his wand

tucked in his sleeve.

Potter levelled a furious glare at Draco, one that could surely freeze

Fiendfyre. The veela licked his lips, and his jaw twitched as he repeated,

"What do you want?"

Draco came closer with ridiculously careful steps, still unsure whether

Potter would demonstrate some secret abilities and attack.

Draco's gaze flickered toward the black wings. "An endless supply of

quills?" he suggested.

Potter didn't look amused, instead, he said in a hushed voice,

"Whatever it is just get on with it. You don't want me turning

impatient."

Draco would have liked to disagree. Scary or not, Potter looked quite

enticing when angry. Which, perhaps, explained why Potter looked

enticing all the time. "What do you think I want?" Draco asked

with just a touch of sarcasm. Honestly, was it really that hard to guess?

Potter didn't answer, but just kept his rigid stance, standing so still he

looked like he was sculptured from marble. Rather immaculately

sculptured, in Draco's opinion.

Draco gathered his courage and walked over, coming dangerously close

to the furious veela. He raised his wand and grinned. After a murmured

incantation and a twist of his wrist, Potter's clothes disappeared.

Potter didn't even blink, but Draco could hear him gnashing his teeth.

Draco tried to smirk, but couldn't quite manage to make his muscles

move. Well, something did move on its own accord and Draco's mouth

went dry at the sight of Potter standing naked before him. The flawless

pale skin was stretched taut over toned muscles, and Draco's gaze

travelled hungrily over flat stomach and strong, lean legs. He tried not

to stare too blatantly at the long, hard cock that jutted proudly out of

the dark patch of hair.

"Had your fill?" Potter asked in a scratchy voice.

Draco's gazed snapped up, towards glowering green eyes. "Not really,"

Draco blurted. "I think I could happily stare some more."

"What do you want?" Potter asked for the third time this evening, and

Draco had begun to worry that the man was daft.

Draco came closer and tentatively raised his hand, touching the warm

skin of Potter's chest with his fingertips. He trailed them slowly in a soft

caress, pleased when Potter shivered almost imperceptibly. "What do

you think?" Draco repeated his own words, this time without sarcasm

but with clear desire in his tone.

Potter swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, making Draco consider

licking it. "You said my veela charms don't work on you," Potter

whispered, apparently having trouble with breathing properly.

Draco frowned and met Potter's gaze, surprised that Potter actually

looked confused. "Well, they don't. What does that have to do with me

wanting to fuck you six ways from Sunday?" Draco blinked. "Actually, a

lot more times and on lot more ways to and from Sunday."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "You plan to keep me here?"

Draco smiled, his hand still tracing hard angles and soft skin, now on

Potter's stomach. The muscles there shied away from his touch and

Draco absentmindedly stored the information of Potter's ticklishness for

future reference. "I plan to convince you to stay."

"Why would you — why would I want to stay?"

"Well, because I could drop down on my knees, swallow your cock, and

suck you off so hard you would scream your lungs out before blacking

out. And then I could repeat that on daily basis."

Draco bit his lip as Potter flushed, the look in his eyes assuring Draco

that it wasn't from embarrassment but arousal. "There are other

reasons, of course. Should I describe them to you? Or perhaps —"

Draco's hands flew behind Potter and grabbed the hard mounds of

Potter's arse in a firm grip. Potter breathed in sharply as Draco pressed

him to his body, their arousals touching none too gently. "Perhaps,

you'd like me to show you?"

Potter's wings fluttered, and Draco wondered whether that was some

subconscious reaction that Potter had no control over.

"Oh, I see," Potter panted out. "You want your own personal toy

around?"

"Toy? I'm partial to the word lover, but if you want to be my toy ..."

"Lover?" Potter questioned, emphasizing the love segment of

the word in a way that made Draco's cheeks heat up with sudden

embarrassment.

Embarrassed for his outspokenness or not, Draco wasn't planning on

being deterred. "Yes, Potter. Lover? Relationship? Dating? Any of these

words mean something to you?"

Potter laughed, the noise jarring to Draco's ears as the bitterness was

evident in the harsh sound. Green eyes looked at Draco scathingly, and

Draco was forced to conclude that Potter didn't look at all beautiful in

that moment, but rather bird-like and unappealing. "You want to go on

a date with me?" Potter sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's what couples do," Draco said a bit defensively. "There's more to it

than Wednesdays' midair fucks."

Potter stopped laughing and he stared at Draco with a pitying

expression. Draco bristled at the condescending look that Potter was

giving him, but then the veela whispered angrily, "I can't make them

disappear, you know."

Draco failed to make any sense of that statement. "Make what

disappear?"

"The wings," Potter hissed. "They're always there. I should be

able to make them go away, but I can't! Still want to go out with me?

Maybe we could visit the circus?" Potter spat, almost shaking with fury. Or

maybe the shaking was the result of Draco teasingly circling a finger

over the furrowed skin of Potter's entrance.

Draco bit down the first question that came to his mind, which was,

'What in the name of Merlin is a circus?' and instead he tried to

remember the things he had read about veelas. "I thought veelas could

retract their wings on will? Except when they're angry." Draco frowned

at Potter's furious expression. "Have you tried not being angry

all the time?"

Potter was breathing heavily, his face so close to Draco he could feel

the veela's hot breath as Potter snarled, "Do you know I can't even

sleep? One wrong move and I hurt the blasted things and I wake up.

They're so sensitive ..." Potter sounded almost desperate, and Draco's heart clenched.

"Really?" Draco removed one hand from Potter's arse and reached to

touch one black wing. He trailed his fingers gently over the glossy black

feathers, but the minute he gripped one warm bone beneath them,

Potter closed his eyes and whispered, "Don't."

Draco lowered his hand, bringing it back to the lovely place it was

situated on before. "We'll think of something," Draco said soothingly.

Potter opened his eyes and stared. "This was a mistake. Untie me. I'm

leaving. Find yourself a different lover."

"I don't want to. I want you."

"Well, you can't have me."

"Potter, you're being an arse. You're the one who started this —"

"Untie me!" Potter yelled, glaring hotly again.

"This not-getting-angry thing really isn't working for you ...”

Potter growled, and quite unexpectedly, jumped on the spot and

wrapped his long legs around Draco's waist so firmly that Draco lost his

ability to breathe.

"I bet I could break your spine," Potter threatened darkly.

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to take that bet," Draco gasped out,

struggling for air.

Getting dizzy and increasingly worried, and not knowing what else to do

since his wand was on the floor and he had no weapon to defend

himself with, Draco moved one hand and after some fumbling and

probing, he managed to shove two fingers up Potter's arse rather

cruelly.

Potter yelled out, bucking, and loosening his grip on Draco's waist.

"Fuck!" Potter shuddered, and threw his head back, his wings flapping

wildly, at times hitting each side of the doorway, making Potter wince

and start thrashing all over again.

"Calm down," Draco soothed, moving his other hand to caress Potter's

stomach. Potter gripped the chains and arched his spine, his legs still

wrapped around Draco's waist as he clenched around the fingers inside

him.

Draco didn't dare move his fingers further in or away. He had probably

hurt Potter already, so not doing anything seemed like a reasonable

thing to do. Potter had different plans though. Instead of trying to get

away from Draco's intrusion, he moaned and moved his hips, pulling the

fingers deeper into his body. Draco shuddered at the tightness and the

heat, feeling irrationally jealous of his own fingers.

"Let me get my wand and cast a Lubrication Charm," Draco panted,

trying to free himself in vain.

"Forget it. It doesn't matter." Potter moaned and raised his head to look

at Draco with dark eyes and flushed cheeks. "This is what you wanted.

Quit stalling and hurry up." Potter emphasised his request with another

twitch of his hips. Draco stared at him for a moment, feeling captivated

by the image. Potter was hanging there, clutching the chains and

apparently unable to keep his head up, because he threw it back again

as though in surrender. He looked completely trapped but uncaring and

resigned.

Draco briefly considered suggesting to untie him, but with Potter

offering himself so blatantly, it was difficult to think of anything but

burying his cock in the heat in which his fingers were currently trapped.

Draco pulled his hand away carefully, grabbed his fortunately still slick

cock in one hand, and trailed the crease of Potter's arse with the

leaking head of his aching arousal. Potter rolled his hips, adjusting his

body helpfully, and within seconds, Draco felt the tight ring of muscle

open and give in to the intrusion. With a long, deep moan, Potter slid

onto him in one slow move, curving his spine in an impossibly perfect arc,

his wings folding beneath him as though in contentment.

Draco shivered, wondering whether he would still be standing upright if

Potter wasn’t gripping him so firmly. Potter was unloosened and

unprepared, and the tightness was overwhelming, nearly painful for

Draco, surely, it had to be excruciating for Potter. Draco was frozen on

the spot, wanting to move but not sure if he could or should — he was

gripped too tightly and he most certainly didn't want to hurt Potter.

But Potter jerked and pulled away with a groan and then

slammed back, impaling himself harshly. Draco nearly screamed,

grabbing Potter's hips and holding them for dear life.

As Potter continued to move relentlessly, Draco couldn't tear his eyes

away from the fascinating play of muscles beneath the skin of Potter's

stomach. The muscles stretched and convulsed continuously and a

sheen of sweat and candlelight gave the skin a soft, golden hue.

Dazedly, Draco reached for the hard cock that bobbed with Potter's

every move. He was rewarded with a moan, almost a purr, which sent a

jolt of pleasure straight to Draco's cock. Potter began to move even

faster, crying out with every thrust as the chains rattled and the

feathers rustled.

Draco could only hope he wouldn't pass out as a wave of pleasure hit

him, rushing through him and leaving him breathless. Soon enough, a

long string of pearly, white liquid shot out from the cock in his hand and

splayed over Potter's chest and stomach. Someone was screaming but

Draco wasn't sure whether it was him or Potter.

Minutes seemed to drag by as they swayed, regaining their

breaths. Eventually, Potter released Draco from his death grip and

lowered his legs to the floor. Draco found himself feeling jealous of the

fact that Potter could support his weight by gripping the chains above

him.

"Untie me," Potter breathed.

Had he been able, Draco would have sighed, but instead he looked

around, and then, fighting dizziness, bent down to pick up his wand

from the floor. After a wave and a murmured incantation, the chains

tumbled to the floor. Impressively, Potter managed not to fall down

with them. Instead, he stood straight and looked Draco in the eye.

"My clothes?"

Draco anxiously clutched his wand. This was it — if he let Potter go, the

veela would never return. Draco had blown it all. Even the Wednesday

midair fucks. It would have been nice to have Potter just to himself

every day, but now that that seemed impossible, Draco wanted

the Wednesdays back.

A desperate plan formed in his head. He was almost positive that he

was right in thinking that Potter wanted more as well, but was just too

scared to admit it.

"Come on. Let me show you something first." Draco extended his hand toward Potter.

Potter looked at the proffered hand and frowned. "More chains?"

"I do have more. Not so shiny or with a self-locking mechanism, but

well, if you wish ..." Draco grinned, but anger returned to Potter's

eyes so Draco quickly schooled his features into a serious expression.

"No, not chains. Just come on. It will take a minute."

Glaring suspiciously, Potter came closer and took Draco's hand, wincing

as his wings scraped the doorway.

It was only then that Draco truly appreciated how very large

Potter was. The wings were enormous, and they seemed to take up half the room. Trying not to let Potter's intimidating presence bother him,

Draco gripped the veela's warm hand, guiding him towards the bed.

Potter followed, looking at Draco in disbelief as Draco lay down on the

sheets, and pulled on Potter's hand, inviting him to lie down on top of

him.

"You said it would take a minute," Potter said, clearly confused.

"You'll decide on that. It will take me a minute to show you something.

Lie down."

Judging by the dubious expression on Potter's face, Draco was sure that

Potter would refuse. But apparently Potter's curiosity won. Slowly and awkwardly, he lowered his body beside Draco's.

Draco pulled him closer so that Potter's hands fell on either side of Draco's chest.

"I'll suffocate you," Potter said quietly, looking mortified.

It was true, really. Draco found himself trapped beneath a huge

feathered tent that loomed over him, threatening to block out the air

supply. Potter's green eyes shone worriedly above him.

"You won't," Draco said, not really believing his words. But Potter

believed him apparently, because he carefully lowered his upper-body

weight onto Draco's chest, not removing his gaze from Draco's face as he

did so.

Cautiously, Draco reached out and encircled Potter's waist, burying his hands beneath

the wings and pressing Potter closer, telling himself that breathing was

overrated.

Finally having Potter positioned almost comfortably on top of him, Draco

murmured, "Can you sleep like this? I'll hold you tight, and I won't let

you move and hurt your wings."

Potter didn't say a word he just continued to stare at Draco, candlelight

reflecting in his eyes and on his face. "I'm heavy," he proclaimed

eventually.

"I can take it," Draco assured. He could. Really. Breathing be damned!

Potter made no move, showing no intention of either lowering his head

to sleep or standing up and walking away. Draco lifted his head with

some difficulty and pressed a soft kiss on Potter's lips. Mercifully, Potter

responded, pressing Draco back down on the pillow and deepening the

kiss. Draco sighed contentedly, rubbing soothing circles on the small of

Potter's back.

Potter moved his mouth away and pressed his forehead to Draco's,

staring into his eyes and breathing heavily.

"Draco. You're — it's not fair to you. You don't have to deal with this."

Draco licked his lips, savouring the sweet taste that lingered on them.

"I expect compensation, of course," he said seriously. "I'll deal with

your problems if you'll deal with mine. I have loads of problems, to be

honest. You're the one that might end up wanting to run away."

"I doubt that," Potter murmured.

"Stick around and find out."

Smiling just a little, looking almost hopeful, Potter bit his lip, closed his

eyes, and then after another chaste kiss moved downwards, lowering

his head in the crook of Draco's neck.

His face breaking into a happy smile, Draco carefully extracted one

hand from beneath Potter's wings and placed it on Potter's head, at the

same time pressing the warm body closer with his other hand.

He ran his fingers through the dark hair, caressing soothingly, and, after

awhile, Potter relaxed. Soon, the veela's breathing deepened, indicating

that he was asleep. Draco did not stop his gentle ministrations,

continuing to rub Potter's back and his head, determined not to fall

asleep himself.

After a long time, Potter's wings twitched, and then shuddered

as they stretched wide. Slowly, the black feathers dissolved into a

glimmering mass that swirled above them for a moment and then shot

down, disappearing into Potter's back.

Draco took a gulp of air, amazed by the sudden free space around

him. His own room looked quite big to him now.

He looked down at the head of the sleeping man in his arms, noting

how much smaller Potter looked without his wings, how very ordinary. Kissing the top of

Potter's head, Draco smiled, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction

run through him.

They still had matters to resolve, and, of course, Potter would have to

learn how to control this. Losing the wings in his sleep was progress,

but Draco doubted that this was over. No, this was just a tentative

beginning. However, feeling light-headed with happiness and

excitement, Draco allowed himself to hope that he had managed to catch

this bird after all. And maybe, he would actually be allowed to keep it.