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Title: Chaser, part 3 and COMPLETE
Author:
birdsofshore
Pairing: Draco / Albus Severus
Word count: 3 x 100 (total 8 x 100)
Rating: R? NC-17? Not sure?
Content / warnings: Age disparity, mild angst
Author’s Notes: Dear
shiftylinguini, I never meant to keep you hanging on like this for the ending but a vomity child situation developed here and things have been slightly fraught. APOLOGIES. I will now post this in haste. ENJOY, you delightful creature! This is the end of the story - I hope it gives you a fraction of the pleasure that your friendship, talent and enthusiasm have given me since we met. ♥
lumosed_quill helped loads, though she is denying it!
Part 1
Part 2
He’s on his stomach, sunlight streaming in across his flawless skin.
“Why’d you have to finally – mmm – notice me now?” He’s breathless, arching backwards into every driving thrust. “Just when I’m going away.”
Something cold and unexpected trickles into my stomach. “Away?” My rhythm falters.
“Didn’t you know? I’m playing Chaser for Romania. Three year contract.”
So there it is. I’m glad he can’t see my face. I rally quickly though, fuck him some more: harder, faster, deeper.
When it’s over, I feel hollow, as if I poured a part of myself into it that I couldn’t afford to lose.
7)
I see him in the Prophet occasionally: Al Potter, Quidditch’s rising star.
He’s filled out a little, judging by the photos – especially around the shoulders – and his hair is shorter, less wild. It suits him. Not that I pay much attention.
Life is good. Everything’s fine. It’s just middle-age catching up with me. I feel weary, some evenings, and… sometimes I feel I’m getting past it. I found a few more grey hairs at my temples last month before I hastily charmed them away.
I suppose he was simply one last undignified fling. Something to look back on. That’s all.
8)
It’s him. Right here. On my doorstep. Taller, broader, so much more real than I would have expected.
There’s an edge to him now. His jaw’s firmer, stubble-rough. But his eyes are still soft. Still wide and astonished.
“Draco,” he breathes.
I swallow. “It’s been a while.”
“It’s been forever.”
“How was it?” I try to keep my voice light.
“Good. I learned lots.”
“Such as…?”
“What I want.” His words catch in his throat. “Still want you.”
“Albus—”
“It’s always been you.”
His mouth is hot, his kisses hungry. Inside me, a dying fire is blazing back to life.
Author:

Pairing: Draco / Albus Severus
Word count: 3 x 100 (total 8 x 100)
Rating: R? NC-17? Not sure?
Content / warnings: Age disparity, mild angst
Author’s Notes: Dear
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Part 1
Part 2
*
6)He’s on his stomach, sunlight streaming in across his flawless skin.
“Why’d you have to finally – mmm – notice me now?” He’s breathless, arching backwards into every driving thrust. “Just when I’m going away.”
Something cold and unexpected trickles into my stomach. “Away?” My rhythm falters.
“Didn’t you know? I’m playing Chaser for Romania. Three year contract.”
So there it is. I’m glad he can’t see my face. I rally quickly though, fuck him some more: harder, faster, deeper.
When it’s over, I feel hollow, as if I poured a part of myself into it that I couldn’t afford to lose.
7)
I see him in the Prophet occasionally: Al Potter, Quidditch’s rising star.
He’s filled out a little, judging by the photos – especially around the shoulders – and his hair is shorter, less wild. It suits him. Not that I pay much attention.
Life is good. Everything’s fine. It’s just middle-age catching up with me. I feel weary, some evenings, and… sometimes I feel I’m getting past it. I found a few more grey hairs at my temples last month before I hastily charmed them away.
I suppose he was simply one last undignified fling. Something to look back on. That’s all.
8)
It’s him. Right here. On my doorstep. Taller, broader, so much more real than I would have expected.
There’s an edge to him now. His jaw’s firmer, stubble-rough. But his eyes are still soft. Still wide and astonished.
“Draco,” he breathes.
I swallow. “It’s been a while.”
“It’s been forever.”
“How was it?” I try to keep my voice light.
“Good. I learned lots.”
“Such as…?”
“What I want.” His words catch in his throat. “Still want you.”
“Albus—”
“It’s always been you.”
His mouth is hot, his kisses hungry. Inside me, a dying fire is blazing back to life.