Chapter 7
It wasn’t a mistake, kissing him. Draco leaned against the broader man, feeling the lion’s warmth against his chest, his hips, his thighs. It lit something in Draco. Their lips opened naturally, tongues slipping into each other's mouths to explore each other’s taste. The king cupped Draco’s face in his hands and tilted his head to make the kiss deeper and Draco just clung to him and let it happen.
None of that was a mistake. What was a masquerade ball for if not for stealing secret kisses while your hidden identity kept you safe? Brief romance to blush over the memory of.
Only it didn’t end with a kiss. Draco went when the king pulled him by the hips, their lips hardly parting as they climbed back up the entry stairs and slipped back into the manor. Draco was lightheaded but didn’t make space to breathe. He clung to the older man, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other inside the other’s suit jacket, grazing fingers over firm muscles with only the barest fabric between them. The man gasped each time Draco caressed him. He moaned into their kisses.
The king led them down a hallway and tried door handles until one opened and suddenly they were alone in a room with the king locking the door between them and everyone else.
The king’s hands were on him, fumbling with buttons and the leather ties holding Draco’s clothing together while his lips kissed Draco’s mouth, chin, neck.
It wasn’t what Draco wanted, some fumbling encounter in a dark room where a man who didn’t know he loathed Draco had his way with him.
Draco grabbed the king’s hands, yanking them away from his clothing. He braced his entire body against the king’s and maneuvered the larger man backwards, twisting their places and shoving the king backwards further with his weight, until the king was forced to back up into the furniture behind him, landing hard on a wide desk. Draco kicked gently at one of the king’s legs, nudging it to the side so he could step into the space he created and grind his hips down onto the king. The king’s head fell backwards and he groaned, his body lifting up against Draco’s, eager for the sensation.
Draco kissed him again, rougher. Gone were the gentle caresses, replaced with a thrusting tongue and teeth that nipped at swollen lips. It drove the king wild. Draco had the upper ground, but the older man was strong and found leverage to thrust his hips against Draco, grinding their lengths against one another until Draco was nearly incoherent with lust. The king matched Draco’s eagerness. The older man gripped at Draco. One hand carded through Draco’s hair, causing a brief pause as the king laughed at the feeling of soot and grease that Draco used to disguise his while-silver hair. The feeling didn’t deter the king. His fingers slipped further, winding under the string holding Draco’s mask onto his face.
Draco grabbed the King’s hand. He yanked it away from his mask, twisting it and shoving it onto the desk, trapping the king under him in the process. “Masks stay on,” Draco growled.
The king licked his lips, his eyes glossy and his breathing harsh. “Yeah, good,” he said, either about the masks or Draco having taken charge once again.
This was what Draco wanted. The chance to live as he ought, so powerful that the king submitted to him and yearned for more. Draco still held him down to the desk when he kissed him again. Soft and sweet, just to hear the king groan against him.
Draco released the king so Draco’s hands could be free to unbutton the king’s shirt. Draco captured every patch of freshly revealed skin in his mouth, sucking love bites as he went until the shirt was mostly open. Then, Draco returned to the king’s shoulder to bite and lick at his collar bone until the buttons were completely undone.
That was when the king put something into Draco’s hands. He glanced down at the items, his mind blanking on what they could be.
“Does the big bad wolf want to top?” The king huffed in his ear, the mockery belied by his clear desire for it to happen.
Draco flexed his hands around what the king had handed him. Lubricant and a condom. He’d seen these before, when he and his boyhood friends first discovered what it was to be very, very horny. He vaguely knew what they were for. Draco’s eyes flickered to the king’s. He was waiting for Draco’s answer.
It would ruin everything if Draco were to tell him the truth, that he hadn’t thought this far and absolutely did not know what he was doing.
So he stalled by kissing the king again, one hand fisting the back of his hair to hold the king exactly how he wanted him. The other dropped the items on the desk to pull at the king’s trousers, managing to open the unfamiliar clothing by feel alone. Then he pulled back so he could flip the older man over. The king huffed out another laugh. It drove Draco wild that he liked this. This strange, anonymous sex where a younger man took what he wanted. It made Draco want to take more, and in such a way that the king went wild, too.
It was… awkward, but Draco knew how to stretch a man out. He’d tried it on himself, when he was younger and first realized he would quite like to fuck a man. He used a generous amount of lube and started slow until the king made an encouraging noise and Draco eased the finger in quicker. It had to sting, but the king did not complain, so Draco started pumping it, watching as the tight velvety hole swallowed his finger with every thrust. Gorgeous. He added more lube and another finger, then as soon as he could a third.
“Ready,” the king insisted, rocking against Draco’s fingers as they thrust into him.
Draco’s throat was dry as he watched. “Yeah, okay,” he said, voice unsteady. He saw the king’s lips quirk in amusement.
No, that wouldn’t do. That wasn’t what Draco wanted.
Draco pulled his fingers out, choosing to wipe them off on the king’s shirt just to leave the mess behind on something of the king’s. He took half a step back to untie his own breeches, which had been uncomfortably tight for far too long but Draco had not been mentally prepared for this inevitability. His hands were shaky as he opened the condom and slid it over his throbbing cock. He squeezed the base of his penis, trying to calm himself for a moment. He rubbed lube on with the other hand. He needed to be mentally prepared now. This wouldn’t be worth it if it couldn’t be exactly as he wanted.
Draco took a moment to close his eyes, breathing deep and centering himself. He was here, at the equinox ball, and even seduced the king. Also, he had a raging hard on and was about to have sex for the first time. This was his night. It was magic. He could do anything.
Draco felt taller and stronger when he opened his eyes. He let a smirk curled over his lips. He stepped back up to the king, his hands running over his rump and squeezing, pulling the cheeks apart. Draco lined his cock up to the opening, then pushed.
Oh god it felt so good. Draco gripped the king’s hips and thrust with abandon, pistoning his hips hard and fast in and out of the body in front of him. He shifted angles to thrust harder, and underneath him the king moaned. Draco gripped his hips harder and tried to repeat the motion. He was desperate to pull more noises from the man beneath him.
And Draco did. Over and over, his thrusts pulled filthy sounds from the king. The king’s head rested on his arms on the desk, leveraging his body so he could arch his back and thrust up to meet Draco. He was on the bottom but knew how to guide Draco to doing exactly what he wanted, hitting all the right spots. Draco would have ignored his suggestions but it felt good. So fucking good. Draco’s body was on fire. He felt tight, close to bursting.
It was too soon. Draco didn’t want to end so soon. He especially didn’t want to end before the king.
Decisively, Draco reached around the king’s body to grab his cock. It forced Draco to slow, but after a moment he found a new rhythm that was just as good. He ground down, his hand rocking in tandem, rebuilding momentum for both men. Draco tried to use all the tricks he knew to make himself feel good when jacking off, hoping it would translate. In truth, his focus wasn’t there. He didn’t know if it had any effect. He only knew how good it felt when the hole he was fucking clinched tight, an exquisite squeeze to thrust into once, twice, three times, until he did burst. He growled as the organism ripped out of him.
Draco’s hand was sticky. The king had cum, too.
With a groan, Draco slumped forward onto the king’s back. He clung to him for just a moment, relishing the warmth while his head swam. He kissed the back of the king’s neck. His tongue flicked out and tasted sweat. It was good. Too good. Draco wiped his hand on the king’s shirt again then pushed himself up and off.
Draco pulled off the condom, disposing of it in a rubbish bin near the door. He tugged up his pants, but left the trousers untied. Then he turned back.
The king had rolled over and lay upon the desk, entirely debauched. His shirt was still wide open, allowing Draco to admire the sculpted chest fully, then the sculpted abs, then the trail of hair that ran down to his still exposed genitalia. The king was grinning, not hiding his pleasure at watching Draco admiring his body. The king stretched, like a cat in the sun.
“You did well, wolf,” he declared. Somehow he spread himself further, putting more of his body on display. “Should we find a bed and go again?”
Never in his life had Draco been so tempted. Yet, not trusting his voice, he closed his eyes and shook his head.
The king made a disappointed noise. “You said you’d make the other wolf howl. I’d quite like it if you tried that on me.”
He couldn’t help it, Draco opened his eyes back up to look. The king was as beautiful as ever, and was now running a hand slowly down his chest to draw Draco’s eyes where he knew Draco found him appealing. Draco stared on hungrily, not caring that the tables had turned and he was the one yearning now.
“It’s too late, I’m already going to be dead on my feet tomorrow,” Draco said.
The king smirked. “I’ll write a letter to excuse your labor,” he joked.
This rankled Draco, pulling him out of his lustful stupor. Of course the king would think Draco had nothing better to do than fuck him. Draco snapped, “Yes, I’ll just tell them I couldn’t be bothered because a straw lion needed a good fucking.”
Surprise flashed across the king’s face. Draco looked away before his own emotions could give him a way. A part of Draco wanted to say something cutting, but it was better for him if the king misread the situation and thought Draco didn’t know who he was.
Draco clinched his eyes shut. This had been a mistake.
Rapidly he pulled at the cords to close his trousers up even as he walked towards the door.
“Wait. If you must leave, take my carriage,” the king offered.
Draco scoffed. “I brought a horse,” he half lied.
The king was on his feet, trying to pull his clothes back on as well. “How will I find you?”
Draco gave him a derisive look, brutally honest enough to be dangerous for his own well being. “You can’t. That’s the point.” Then he yanked the door so hard it banged against the wall, and he stormed off before the king could get in another word.