Flickers and Flames

Word count: 1889

(A/N: This fic is humbly dedicated to Feanix who kindly let me to play with some ideas I consider very lovely. Epic thanks! The verse that Draco sings is snatched from Death in June's song with the same title. Absolute thanks for Arabwel from quick and competent betaing, not to mention her awesomeness in general. All the remaining mistakes are mine. Oh, and while being obvious, all kind of feedback is kindly asked for.)


Flickers and Flames


I love to walk in the gardens of the Malfoy Manor at night. Illuminated by moonlight, their beauty takes a surreal quality. It feels like they are a whole, another world. But tonight offers something even more delicious to my eyes.

Draco is practising Incendio on nocturnal butterflies in the garden. It's almost midnight and if Narcissa knew about this, she would fly off the wall. She is nice and I love her in in my own way but by Salazar, her over-protectiveness is sometimes just too irritating to bear.

I don't care myself, actually my reaction is quite the opposite My beautiful son's movements are fluid-like, he is a serpent. A true Slytherin, I have no doubts in where my little demon is going to be Sorted.

His aim is almost flawless. Of course he has had plenty of practise - a Malfoy deserves better than to be allowed a wand at the age of eleven. That is probably suitable for the common folk...

The insects catch fire and fall down, dying during their final flight. I can imagine the victorious smile laced with cruelty on my drakeling's lips. Lips like petals of pale roses, begging to be kissed. His tongue that darts wickedly, licking his lips with a seductive allure that belies his age. My cock hardens just from the image in my mind.

I hear my precious son sing and his voice is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Draco is ten and there is a childlike tone of mock innocence in his voice but there is nothing innocent in the words.

"Until the living flesh is burned. Until the living flesh is burned..."

It is the same verse again and again, every time a butterfly catches fire and dies on mid-air. But I don't tire of it. I couldn't tire of anything my demon-child does. Even while so young, he is a true Malfoy. His movements so graceful, it looks like Draco is dancing while he kills. He is dressed as if for a formal ball in his grey silk robe embroidered with silver snakes.

The robe is a bit too small, quite unlike of Draco, and it outlines his perfect little arse. I wonder if he has chosen it on purpose? What if he knows that I am watching? It would be a perfect explanation for why my darling never turns this way, to give me this little show. I slip my hand inside my velvet robes, slowly stroking my almost achingly hard cock.

I know that Draco desires my touch very unlike than what would be normal filial affection. It mirrors my own lust. When we bathe together, he rubs his hard cock against my body and reaches his pale, flawless hands towards my own erection. It takes all my willpower to move his hands elsewhere. My little dark angel is still so young. What if he doesn't realize the difference between the incestuous union I yearn for, and the usual love between a father and a son?

I do desire young, innocent flesh to defile but his is different. He is my precious son. He is... Draco. It is as simple as that. I could never live with myself if I seduced him if he did not know what sex is. That it is not love in itself even while I can feel that my little silver dragon will come to me when he understands, when he is ready for the decadent pleasure that I wish to share with him.

I thought that I could never feel true, unconditional love until Draco was born. Until I saw the silvery grey in his eyes, the way they mirrored my own. When he tangled his little fingers in my hair and whispered "Daddy". His first word.

Draco is a cunning little snake and an actor by heart. I have taught him to lie as soon as he learned to speak and he loves it. The joy that my silver drakeling gets from learning the basics of the Dark Arts. How proud Draco is when he learns a new curse or a magical structure.
When I tell him how well he has done, his eyes shine silver with pride and malicious delight. Draco thanks me properly, minding his manners while I can see his heart leaping with joy. My little dragon knows by heart that I don't give idle praise.

Draco continues dancing to a tune that only he himself and I can hear. The silent song changes - his movements grow even more seductive, like he is performing a complicated strip-tease. He does know that I am watching. Draco turns around in one smooth twirl. The effortless grace; my precious moves like he is mercury.

I barely have time to cast a wordless Veto Emitis -an orgasm denial spell- on myself and remove my hand from my cock. Every fibre of my body protests against what I am doing but this moment is for my fallen cherub and for him alone.

"Good evening, Daddy."

Draco's eyes are sparkling with mischievous lust that belies his age - he knows exactly what he's doing and he flashes an impish smirk. He runs towards me and leaps into my arms. I wrap my arms around him. My lips curl into a Cheshire Cat smile and I know that it reaches into my eyes. It rarely does but during the time I spend with my son, I feel true happiness.

"That was inappropriate for a Malfoy, Draco. You need to be punished."
"Do I get a spanking?"

My little dragon feigns a pout and rubs his lithe body against mine. He knows that his voice is far too eager but he can't help it - in the very same way I can't help my love laced with incestuous lust showing in my expression. In every movement I make.

"Oh yes. But since you are not going to be punished from only your lack of manners but also from being such a naughty little cock-tease, it will not happen tomorrow. My little incubus, you shall wait until I feel like it."

Draco's pout is not feigned now and there is disappointment in his eyes - such a lovely, spoiled, decadent boy. Still, my sinful son knows better than to whine and wheedle. He has learned enough of the fine skill of manipulation to not ask directly for things I shall not allow him yet.

I lose myself into that delicious vision for awhile. How adorable Draco is going to look on my lap when his moon-pale skin turns to red from just a few strokes on his arse. The way he will shamelessly arch his erection against mine. My little dark angel has already found the debauched connection between pleasure and pain, all by himself.

Draco tilts his head upwards and I finally claim those lips that open for me so willingly. He rubs his rock hard cock against me in utter abandon, with no shame whatsoever, while I probe his sweet mouth. He answers like a little imp, entwining his tongue with mine in a complicated dance that is ours - and ours alone.

I sneak my hand under my fey-like son's robes and find that he isn't wearing anything under them. My cunning little serpent, Draco rarely misses any details. Sometimes I wonder if he has ever been innocent. I caress gently his hairless balls and wrap my hand around his cock. He is so hard that it must hurt. Draco moans something into my mouth that sounds very much like "More, Daddy! Please!" It needs only a few, firm strokes and my precious, sinful son comes undone, shaking and clutching on my robes in the throes of his dry climax.

I carry Draco into his bedroom. He falls asleep almost instantly after a good night kiss. In my study I contemplate a little test to test my wicked son's wits. I take my Pensieve and drop carefully chosen memories for my imp to watch. With a wordless spell, I float the black marble bowl into a little hallway, hidden by a secret door. When my clever, little devil finds it, he will love the images.

Then walk into the Master Bedroom, missing my son but still content in my blessed loneliness. While I desire that incestuous bliss, all the things I can share with my little incubus, I am able to wait. It is good to be alone; Narcissa has her own bedroom in the west wing of the Manor. I forget her and let the images of Draco to full my mind.

My brain becomes a whirlwind of thoughts, of decadent desires we shall share. I wonder if Draco's nipples are as sensitive as my own. How it is going to feel to have his flawless hands wrapped around my cock.

The way Draco tastes inside my mouth when I suck his little cock, lave his sac and his puckered entrance with teasing licks of my tongue, making him half-delirious with need. How I will revel in how my drakeling begs for more.

To see and feel Draco's sweet lips wrapped around my cock, my semen dripping down his chin. The feeling, and the sight of his tongue when he licks my cock clean. I will not force him into anything, ever, but I know my drakeling. He has already showed that he has inherited the Malfoy debauchery.

How impossibly tight he is going to feel around my finger when I slowly insert it inside his arse, reaching his prostate. My precious. In my heart I already know that he will feel like hot silk, so flawless and inviting. How he is going to arch his little arse against my hand, with no shame whatsoever, only immersed in pleasure.

It will take some years until I can allow myself to fuck that delicious, pert arse - I swear I will never hurt Draco in ways he doesn't want to- but waiting for that will make the first time even sweeter.

Laying naked in my bed, I finally remove the Veto Emitis charm - as much as I want to come, I desired to savour those thoughts even more. I climax all over the black silk sheets, so hard that my eyesight blurs - and through that haze I can see Draco, eager for my touch, already knowing that only a Malfoy is good enough for a Malfoy.