Bloom

“I didn’t mean that,” Draco finally said quickly, “I…it slipped out.”

“Then you meant it,” Blaise replied, still in shock, “You weren’t even thinking. You meant it, you really meant it.”

“Yeah, well,” Draco muttered, “I’m not telling him. Not yet.”

“Draco,” Blaise said quietly, “You just said…you said we? We all? As in me, too, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to maintain some coolness, but still looking adorably hopeful.

“You too,” Draco confirmed, smiling despite his anxiety. “Of course you too.” He let out a slow breath, and then added, “We can’t tell him, yet.”

“Why not? Didn’t you two agree? Your game thing?”

“I didn’t tell him ‘I love you.’” Draco felt relieved about this, despite himself. “So, technically, I don’t have to tell him what I said.” He kept feeling the corners of his mouth trying to twitch into a smile.

“Well you should,” Blaise said with a chuckle, “And…soon, probably. He’s out there upset with you.”

“He’s just thinking,” Draco replied, suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss Blaise. He always did when he was in a good mood. Blaise’s lips were like a pheromone to him. He grabbed him and pulled him close. “Besides, I want to win.” He captured Blaise’s mouth with his own, sucking on his bottom lip hungrily.

Blaise pulled away and bit Draco’s back with a short laugh. “Is it really that important when you both know?”

“Yes.”

The next day went by very slowly as Draco waited for detention to start. Especially having to endure Ron seeming to not want to look in his direction at all. Thankfully, he could tell that Ron was just pouting, and did not seem overwhelmingly upset. Draco agreed to let Blaise tag along to detention that night, as long as he promised not to say anything about Draco’s slip-up.

So when evening finally came, and eight o clock rolled around, he and Draco made their way to Professor McGonagall’s office. Blaise continued around the corner to wait until the professor decided to leave, as she typically did. When Draco entered the room, he saw that Ron was already there, sitting at a table to the left of the room, with his homework spread out in front of him.

“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said with her naturally frosty inflection, “There will be no cleaning for you two tonight. You may use this time to finish your homework. Please take a seat.”

You have got to be joking.

Bristling, Draco stuck his nose in the air, and strode over to Ron, sitting in the chair right next to him. Ron glanced over for a fraction of a second, looking startled at his daring. Draco blatantly ignored him. They both began to start their homework assignments, or at least pretended to. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the clock ticking loudly behind Professor McGonagall, and the scratching of all their quills.

About ten minutes in, Draco was thinking about how annoyed Blaise must be, waiting for Professor McGonagall to leave when it was likely that she was not going to. However, he was snapped out of this thought by Ron suddenly stretching his arms above his head. When he dropped them, he brushed his fingers along Draco’s thigh, the corner of his mouth turned up into a sly smile.  

Draco felt a lustful amusement rising inside of him. Then he stood, under the impression of taking off his cloak. When he had, he draped it over the table, the front half of it cascaded over the edge of the table in front of them, blocking their legs underneath. When he plopped down, he immediately grasped Ron’s thigh with one hand, and picked up his quill with his other, going back to scribbling down notes for his upcoming potions placement exam that he was retaking under strict order from his godfather.

He felt Ron go tense, and he slid his hand higher. His fingers now grazed between Ron’s legs. He ran his hand back down, then back up, repeating this motion slowly, over and over, until his fingers were brushing along a curious hardness in Ron’s pants.

The Gryffindor shifted in his seat, spreading his legs a bit wider as he leaned forward onto one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand. Draco put more pressure on his motions, massaging the bulge in the redhead’s pants. He heard Ron’s breathing start to get ragged. Draco smirked to himself, continuing his movements. Ron inhaled sharply. His hand was shaking instead of writing, now, the peacock feather of his quill quivering.

Draco looked up at Professor McGonagall, who was still focused on whatever she was doing at her desk. Then he looked over at Ron, who was pink in the face, and biting his lip as he stared down at his herbology textbook.

“Go ahead,” Draco murmured under his breath, “I know you need to cum.”

Ron lowered his head slightly, letting out a faint whimper. His whole body was trembling now. Draco continued massaging Ron’s erection through his pants, knowing he couldn’t hold back much longer. And moments later, Ron had ducked his head with another whimper, and a groan under his breath. He continued to whine under his breath, jerking his hips away, trying to avoid Draco’s touch. Draco chuckled as he pulled his hand away, listening to Ron try to quietly catch his breath.

“That’s my good boy,” Draco cooed quietly, and tilted his head to look at him boldly, “Now come sit in my lap and ride my cock.”

Ron turned bright red, still trying to hid his gaze from Draco. In that same moment, Professor McGonagall stood from her desk. Draco and Ron both went back to pretending to do their work.

“I will return at half past nine,” the Gryffindor head of house informed them as she walked through the rows of desks, and out the door.

The second the door closed behind her, Draco stood so abruptly his chair toppled over. He instantly stood behind Ron, grabbed his upper arms, and forcefully pushed up down, yanking his chair away to force him to stand bent over the table. Ron’s hands curled over the edge, and he breathed heavily.

“Draco,” he whimpered desperately.

“After,” Draco growled, too heated to be patient.

“The door,” Ron whined, sounding just as impatient.

“I got it,” a voice interjected as Blaise entered the room. He shut the door behind him and locked it. “Oh…” he looked at the scene in front of him, and a pleased expression settled on his face, “Now this looks fun.”

Ron groaned, resting his head forward on the grainy wood of the table. Draco chuckled and reached his hands around Ron’s waist to unbutton his pants and then slid them down his hips. “Don’t act like you haven’t been dying to get used by both of us,” he teased, “Haven’t you?”

Already standing in front of the trembling Gryffindor, Blaise smiled, and reached down to tuck a finger under Ron’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Precious,” Blaise murmured. He fell silent as he looked into Ron’s eyes, then he brought his gaze to Draco, “Merlin, he’s already switching for it.”

“Of course he is,” Draco replied, “Because he is perfect. Aren’t you?” He squeezed Ron’s hips before releasing one hand to unbutton his own pants. “My perfect little plaything. Will you be good to Blaise like you are to me?”

Distracted by Blaise releasing his hardened cock in front of his face, Ron did not respond. Draco’s heart was pounding wildly at the sight in front of him. He had imagined it numerous times, of course, but the sight of Blaise’s cock slipping into Ron’s mouth was almost enough to make Draco cum, especially when Blaise groaned in approval.

“So good,” he murmured, already breathless, “Fuck, Ron…” he ran a hand through their lover’s silky soft hair, “That’s right…fuck that’s a good boy…” he could not stop spewing all the praise and swear words that came to mind. And in response, Ron moaned around his cock, enjoying every moment of it.  

Draco glanced over his shoulder very briefly before leaning over Ron’s body to pull Blaise into a kiss. His best friend groaned and panted into his mouth, before having to part to keep his breathing steady. Draco began stroking his own cock as he pulled away, then smirked at Blaise.

“Having fun?” he asked in a teasing tone, which threw Blaise off just enough for Draco to reach a hand to his mouth and slide two fingers into it, all the way to the back of his throat, making him gag unexpectedly. Draco withdrew his fingers with a grin, watching him sputter for a moment, and try to regain composure. Draco moved his now-wet fingers to Ron’s backside, down to his hot, clenched hole. “Relax,” Draco growled impatiently, circling a finger around the entrance before pushing it inside, his jaw clenching when he felt the familiar heat and tightness. He slid a second finger in when he met Blaise’s eyes. His best friend looked completely lusted over, his eyes dazed and cheeks flushed, he couldn’t seem to decide to look at Ron, or at Draco. Draco allowed him a few moments of this confusion as he busied himself pushing the swollen head of his cock where his fingers had just been. In one swift movement he buried himself hard and deep into the Gryffindor between them. Ron pulled off Blaise’s cock to cry out, gulping deep breaths of air. Draco grabbed his hips with a deathly grip, pulling him back until his perfectly curved ass was touching his waist. “Naughty boy,” he chided sharply, “Who said you could stop sucking his cock?”

“Oh, no one,” Blaise agreed, gripping Ron’s hair and yanking his face back up, and onto his saliva-soaked member, pushing his head down to force it down the back of the red heads throat until his was choking, “Well, baby, that’s what you get when he misbehave. You don’t need to breathe that bad, do you?”

Damn, Blaise.

While Blaise was busy assaulting Ron’s top half, Draco began to thrust erratically, keeping his eye on the clock.

They had nineteen minutes.

“You’re doing so well, love,” Draco purred as he repeatedly slammed into his favorite baby sub. “You keep taking it just like this.” He chuckled when Blaise eased up, releasing the back of Ron’s head just enough to where he could breathe but not quite have control of his own mouth. They could hear him choking out moans from around Blaise’s cock, and the sound was intoxicating.

“Fuck,” Blaise groaned, closing his eyes.

“Look at me,” Draco growled in a deep, husky voice, he needed Blaise’s eyes. And when he had them, he smirked. Blaise was lost. Biting his lip. His eyes were glazed. “Don’t you forget you’re my slut, too.” Blaise’s lips parted but he did not speak. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Blaise replied instantly, and Draco was almost positive there had been no thought behind this. Purely response.

The idea made his cock twitch inside of Ron, who was still moaning and choking around Blaise’s cock. “Say it,” Draco demanded.

“I’m your slut, too,” Blaise breathed.

“That’s right,” Draco sneered at him, “You two can fuck each other all you want. But you are both. Mine.”

“Draco…” Blaise whispered, or rather whimpered.

Between them, Ron very suddenly pulled off Blaise’s cock with a cry, and a loud hoarse moan. His fingers grappled at the tabletop, and his body shook uncontrollably. His sudden orgasm was all it took for Draco and Blaise. With a sharp swear, Blaise pulled Ron’s mouth back over his cock, holding him there. Draco’s own release washed over him, and he had to keep a very strong hold on Ron’s hips to keep himself steady.

They remained in place for several seconds, aside from Blaise and Draco stepping back from Ron, letting him collapse on the table. He buried his head in his arms, coughing, sputtering, and gasping for air. He continued to shake. Draco pulled Ron’s pants up before fixing his own, and quickly looked at the clock.

Eleven minutes.

“Fucking hell,” Blaise gasped, yanking up his zipper, “Fuck…” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, and rubbed Ron’s back, “Ron…love…” he knelt down near Ron’s head, stroking his damp hair. Ron kept his face buried in his arms, still coughing, and still gasping. “Ron…slow down.” Ron did not acknowledge him. “Ron…”

“Just give him a minute,” Blaise suggested, “That was a lot.”

Draco continued to rub Ron’s back as he watched the clock. But Ron never seemed to stop breathing heavily, even when he stopped coughing. Finally, he did move, but only to lower to his knees, still keeping his face buried in his arms on the table. He let out a noise that sounded like a sob.

Now Blaise seemed concerned. He rounded the table, and he and Draco both lowered to the floor as well. Draco was now concerned. Deeply. Maybe it had been too much. And they hadn’t exactly given him an opportunity to speak.

“Baby,” Blaise said in a breathless, yet concerned tone, “Please say something. Please. Are you okay?” He put a hand on Ron’s back next to Draco’s. “Did we hurt you? Did…was…”

“Blaise,” Draco said, looking at the clock again, “McGonagall…she’ll be here soon.”

They both whispered to Ron again. But he simply continued to shake, and refused to move himself from the table yet. Exchanging a worried glance, Blaise looked over at the door and nodded. “I’ll go distract her.” He quickly got to his feet and rushed into the hallway.

“Ron,” Draco said, now desperate, “Ron, please. Please tell me you’re okay. Come on, baby. Look at me.”

Finally, he grabbed Ron around the waist, and pulled him back. He had expected a fight. Some resistance. But the moment Draco’s arms were around him, Ron instantly turned around, and melted into his arms, burying his face into his shoulder. Draco held him tightly, still rubbing his back. He rested his chin on top of Ron’s head, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, “I’m sorry, Ron. That was too much. We shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” Ron finally whispered, his voice raspy and quiet. “You didn’t hurt me.” He sounded wobbly, like he was full of emotion.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked, squeezing him even tighter, “You can tell me. Please tell me. We just…I thought…we…”

“I’m really okay,” Ron replied, his tone timid, “I…I’m sorry…I’m overwhelmed.” His fingers dug into Draco’s back, and he nuzzled his face against his shoulder. “I just couldn’t come out of it for a minute.”

“Thank God,” Draco whispered, rocking him for a moment, “My precious boy. I never want to hurt you.” And then…there it was. The sudden desire to just give in. To stop caring about who lost or who won. Because Blaise was right. Draco and Ron both felt it. They both knew it. They were just being dramatic and stubborn about the whole thing.

“Ron,” Draco murmured, trailing his fingers up and down his spine.

“Mm?” Ron replied into his shoulder.

Draco gave a tiny sigh. And squeezed him one more time. His heart did backflips, and his skin tingled.

“I love you.”