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rarepair_shortsAuthor: maraudersaffair
Recipient:smirkingcat
Title: Naughty
Pairing: Percy Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Request/Prompt Used: Percy/Draco
Rating: Teen
Word Count/Art Medium: 1100
Summary: Percy wants Draco to know he's very naughty.
Notes: The prompt was simply the pairing, but it was enough for me! I didn't realize I needed Percy/Draco in my life until I wrote this. Unbeta'ed. Thanks for reading! This can also be found on AO3.
Percy was naughty. Very naughty. Most didn’t know that about him. They only saw his spectacles, his bookworm habits.
He was fantastic in bed; all he needed was the opportunity.
He wanted to say this to Malfoy a week into sharing an office with him. They were publicists for Minister Shacklebolt, with Malfoy focusing on the tabloids and Percy focusing on hard news. The Minister wanted to get ahead of any story, no matter where it was published.
It was torture sharing an office with Malfoy. He was always chatting to people over the Floo. He laughed too loudly at the wireless. He smelled so fucking sexy that it gave Percy the beginnings of a stiffy.
The worst thing: Malfoy smiled at Percy. He chuckled at his jokes. He listened intently whenever he spoke. If there was one thing that made Percy’s knees go weak, it was a good listener.
“Want to grab lunch?” Malfoy said once he ended yet another Floo conversation.
“Sure.”
They took the lift up to ground level. Outside on the street, they paused at the kerb, contemplating their best options.
Malfoy’s hair glinted white. His nose was already taking on a little color. Percy squinted, knowing he was nothing but mirror spectacles and blotchy freckles in the sun.
“Hamburgers are always good,” Percy said.
Malfoy shuddered. “My stomach can’t handle another greasy meal. I need veg and high protein grains.”
“I know a place that makes the best barley soup. Fresh herbs. You can get it vegetarian if you want, but I don’t suggest it. Their beef was incredibly tender.”
“You’re making me salivate.” He laughed.
“Do you mind the Tube? We might get lost if I try to Apparate us.”
“Lead the way, Weasley.”
The Tube was congested and smelled like spoiled fish and chips. They had to crowd together, and Percy bumped Malfoy on the hard stops.
“Bloody Muggle contraptions,” Malfoy muttered, not moving away.
“The Midnight Bus is worse.” Percy angled his head so he could smell Malfoy’s hair, his neck.
“At least I can use my wand openly on there.”
“Yeah,” Percy said, not thinking about wands at all.
In the caff, they grabbed a table in the back. The waitress took their orders.
“You should play Quidditch with me tomorrow,” Malfoy said.
Percy laughed and shook his head. “You obviously don’t know me.”
“Of course I know you. You’re a Weasley.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m a Weasley by name only.”
Malfoy touched the back of his freckled hand. “I don’t believe that.”
Percy stared at the table, his ears growing warm. “Do you like that I’m a Weasley?”
“I like that you’re blushing right now.”
“Two beef barleys,” the waitress said, dropping off their soups. For a few minutes, Percy focused on eating. The heat steamed up his glasses, but he was too nervous to take them off to clean them.
“I never thought you’d be a publicist,” Malfoy said.
Percy shrugged. “The Minister offered me the position, so I took it.”
“Don’t you want to be in politics?”
“Maybe. I used to . . . but the war was . . . difficult and it might’ve changed my mind.”
“I see.” Malfoy’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl as he finished. “You were right. This was delicious.”
Percy finally looked up and smiled. Malfoy stared at him, his gaze warm but also calculating.
“Please come to Quidditch tomorrow. I’ll help you ride a broom.”
“Ah . . .” Percy laughed, his eyes fluttering. He knew he was being awkward, but it was always hard keeping his cool when fit men talked about helping him ride things.
“Come on, now. Show some of that Gryffindor bravery.” Malfoy smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing to him.
Percy gulped. “All right.”
*
The next day, Percy Apparated to Malfoy Manor. He startled when the beautiful estate opened for him. He’d always been so hungry to be this rich and powerful. His family were purebloods, but they were nowhere near this influential.
Malfoy met him in the garden, his hair blowing in the light breeze. He smiled and his cool gaze was suddenly warm. He held two brooms.
“I picked my slowest broom for you.”
“Thanks,” Percy grumbled.
Malfoy gave him the broom. “Do you know how to get off the ground?”
“Yeah . . . I think so.” He grimaced, imagining himself face-planting from the sky.
“Okay, so we need to go slower. Drop your broom.”
Percy did so, then frowned.
“Come here. Get on the back of mine.”
“Are you sure?” His heart thumped.
“Yes. Get over here.”
Percy scrambled over. There was something about Malfoy that made him eager to please.
“Straddle it and hold me tight.”
Percy, biting his lip, complied. He held Malfoy closely, his nose once again brushing his hair, his neck. “Ready?” Malfoy asked, and he nodded.
They pushed off the ground. It wasn’t exhilarating or calming. Percy felt his insides liquify.
“All right?” Malfoy called over the breeze.
“Yes,” Percy said, but he buried his face in Malfoy’s shoulder, not caring if he clutched him like a damsel in distress.
Malfoy turned the broom slowly. He touched Percy’s hand. “Look.”
Percy glanced down and caught his breath. The estate was dazzling from this height; he saw the snaking river and the muddy ponds; the rolling, quiet hills and the swaying, dark forest. The peacocks dotted the garden like white petals floating on water.
“It’s beautiful,” Percy whispered, not sure if Malfoy would hear him.
“It’s everything I love. If you ever have doubts about my character, my life choices, think of this view.”
“I will.” Percy pulled him closer, his stomach fluttering. He fancied Malfoy so, so much.
They dropped back down to the ground. Percy slipped from the broom, his legs weak.
“Are you all right? Do you need a sit?” Malfoy said.
“No, no.” Percy clutched at him, his hands fisting the soft fabric of his robes. They stared at each other.
“I like your glasses,” Malfoy said. “They make you look clever.”
“I am clever.” He sucked in a breath. “We barely know each other.”
“I want to get to know you.”
Percy couldn’t answer, his throat tightening. Come on, courage, he thought.
Malfoy, looking for some sign in Percy’s expression, moved closer. He kissed Percy, and his lips were a bit chapped.
Moaning, Percy wrapped his arms around him, deepening the kiss. Their mouths moved together gently, exploring, until Percy pulled away.
“Fuck, I want you.”
Malfoy arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can handle me?”
“You have no idea how naughty I can be. All I need is a chance.”
Malfoy blushed. “Let’s go inside.”
maraudersaffairRecipient:
smirkingcatTitle: Naughty
Pairing: Percy Weasley/Draco Malfoy
Request/Prompt Used: Percy/Draco
Rating: Teen
Word Count/Art Medium: 1100
Summary: Percy wants Draco to know he's very naughty.
Notes: The prompt was simply the pairing, but it was enough for me! I didn't realize I needed Percy/Draco in my life until I wrote this. Unbeta'ed. Thanks for reading! This can also be found on AO3.
Percy was naughty. Very naughty. Most didn’t know that about him. They only saw his spectacles, his bookworm habits.
He was fantastic in bed; all he needed was the opportunity.
He wanted to say this to Malfoy a week into sharing an office with him. They were publicists for Minister Shacklebolt, with Malfoy focusing on the tabloids and Percy focusing on hard news. The Minister wanted to get ahead of any story, no matter where it was published.
It was torture sharing an office with Malfoy. He was always chatting to people over the Floo. He laughed too loudly at the wireless. He smelled so fucking sexy that it gave Percy the beginnings of a stiffy.
The worst thing: Malfoy smiled at Percy. He chuckled at his jokes. He listened intently whenever he spoke. If there was one thing that made Percy’s knees go weak, it was a good listener.
“Want to grab lunch?” Malfoy said once he ended yet another Floo conversation.
“Sure.”
They took the lift up to ground level. Outside on the street, they paused at the kerb, contemplating their best options.
Malfoy’s hair glinted white. His nose was already taking on a little color. Percy squinted, knowing he was nothing but mirror spectacles and blotchy freckles in the sun.
“Hamburgers are always good,” Percy said.
Malfoy shuddered. “My stomach can’t handle another greasy meal. I need veg and high protein grains.”
“I know a place that makes the best barley soup. Fresh herbs. You can get it vegetarian if you want, but I don’t suggest it. Their beef was incredibly tender.”
“You’re making me salivate.” He laughed.
“Do you mind the Tube? We might get lost if I try to Apparate us.”
“Lead the way, Weasley.”
The Tube was congested and smelled like spoiled fish and chips. They had to crowd together, and Percy bumped Malfoy on the hard stops.
“Bloody Muggle contraptions,” Malfoy muttered, not moving away.
“The Midnight Bus is worse.” Percy angled his head so he could smell Malfoy’s hair, his neck.
“At least I can use my wand openly on there.”
“Yeah,” Percy said, not thinking about wands at all.
In the caff, they grabbed a table in the back. The waitress took their orders.
“You should play Quidditch with me tomorrow,” Malfoy said.
Percy laughed and shook his head. “You obviously don’t know me.”
“Of course I know you. You’re a Weasley.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m a Weasley by name only.”
Malfoy touched the back of his freckled hand. “I don’t believe that.”
Percy stared at the table, his ears growing warm. “Do you like that I’m a Weasley?”
“I like that you’re blushing right now.”
“Two beef barleys,” the waitress said, dropping off their soups. For a few minutes, Percy focused on eating. The heat steamed up his glasses, but he was too nervous to take them off to clean them.
“I never thought you’d be a publicist,” Malfoy said.
Percy shrugged. “The Minister offered me the position, so I took it.”
“Don’t you want to be in politics?”
“Maybe. I used to . . . but the war was . . . difficult and it might’ve changed my mind.”
“I see.” Malfoy’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl as he finished. “You were right. This was delicious.”
Percy finally looked up and smiled. Malfoy stared at him, his gaze warm but also calculating.
“Please come to Quidditch tomorrow. I’ll help you ride a broom.”
“Ah . . .” Percy laughed, his eyes fluttering. He knew he was being awkward, but it was always hard keeping his cool when fit men talked about helping him ride things.
“Come on, now. Show some of that Gryffindor bravery.” Malfoy smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing to him.
Percy gulped. “All right.”
The next day, Percy Apparated to Malfoy Manor. He startled when the beautiful estate opened for him. He’d always been so hungry to be this rich and powerful. His family were purebloods, but they were nowhere near this influential.
Malfoy met him in the garden, his hair blowing in the light breeze. He smiled and his cool gaze was suddenly warm. He held two brooms.
“I picked my slowest broom for you.”
“Thanks,” Percy grumbled.
Malfoy gave him the broom. “Do you know how to get off the ground?”
“Yeah . . . I think so.” He grimaced, imagining himself face-planting from the sky.
“Okay, so we need to go slower. Drop your broom.”
Percy did so, then frowned.
“Come here. Get on the back of mine.”
“Are you sure?” His heart thumped.
“Yes. Get over here.”
Percy scrambled over. There was something about Malfoy that made him eager to please.
“Straddle it and hold me tight.”
Percy, biting his lip, complied. He held Malfoy closely, his nose once again brushing his hair, his neck. “Ready?” Malfoy asked, and he nodded.
They pushed off the ground. It wasn’t exhilarating or calming. Percy felt his insides liquify.
“All right?” Malfoy called over the breeze.
“Yes,” Percy said, but he buried his face in Malfoy’s shoulder, not caring if he clutched him like a damsel in distress.
Malfoy turned the broom slowly. He touched Percy’s hand. “Look.”
Percy glanced down and caught his breath. The estate was dazzling from this height; he saw the snaking river and the muddy ponds; the rolling, quiet hills and the swaying, dark forest. The peacocks dotted the garden like white petals floating on water.
“It’s beautiful,” Percy whispered, not sure if Malfoy would hear him.
“It’s everything I love. If you ever have doubts about my character, my life choices, think of this view.”
“I will.” Percy pulled him closer, his stomach fluttering. He fancied Malfoy so, so much.
They dropped back down to the ground. Percy slipped from the broom, his legs weak.
“Are you all right? Do you need a sit?” Malfoy said.
“No, no.” Percy clutched at him, his hands fisting the soft fabric of his robes. They stared at each other.
“I like your glasses,” Malfoy said. “They make you look clever.”
“I am clever.” He sucked in a breath. “We barely know each other.”
“I want to get to know you.”
Percy couldn’t answer, his throat tightening. Come on, courage, he thought.
Malfoy, looking for some sign in Percy’s expression, moved closer. He kissed Percy, and his lips were a bit chapped.
Moaning, Percy wrapped his arms around him, deepening the kiss. Their mouths moved together gently, exploring, until Percy pulled away.
“Fuck, I want you.”
Malfoy arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can handle me?”
“You have no idea how naughty I can be. All I need is a chance.”
Malfoy blushed. “Let’s go inside.”
