Chapter Text
Draco came to, naked, sprawled across the pentagram on the worn floorboards of the inn’s rented room. He lifted his head. His body had smeared the chalk and the salt on re-entry.
His tailbone hurt.
His head hurt.
He was thirsty.
Draco slowly pushed up to sitting. His wand was in his hand. His whole spine hurt. Something grazed his leg—his head whipped around, making the headache flare. A mouse? A rat? This room was disgusting.
No—
Hold on—
Draco twisted to look behind him.
FUCK.
He had a tail.
Everyone knew not to make a deal with the devil. And everyone knew not to treat with the fae. But sometimes shit happened in the field.
Sometimes you had to cast a spell to find out where it led.
Sometimes you had to take a chance to get home.
It had been an old, intricate spell, the provenance of which he’d been investigating for months.
The provenance was Hell. He knew that now.
He was a bit fuzzy on what had happened there. But he knew imps were not to be trusted.
And neither was Theodore Nott.
But Theo was here now, easing open the door to Draco’s manor suite, and Draco was relieved. Finally, some goddamn help.
Theo—tall, lanky, a bit of a twat—was fighting a grin as he slipped inside and Draco strode toward him, past the horsehair sofas, across the green Persian rug. “Are you wagging your tail at me?”
“What? No—”
“Aw, mate—you are! Are you happy to see me?”
“Not anymore!” snapped Draco, glaring at the tufted tip snaking from the bottom of his robe.
Theo was laughing, his eyes sparkling. “C’mon, let me see it—”
“No, fuck off—”
“C’mon, I’m here to help—”
“No, I’ll do it myself—”
“No, you won’t—c’mon.”
Draco heaved a sigh and turned for his bedroom. There was no one to see him here in the antechamber but this felt too private. He needed the comfort of his own dark walls and crackling fire and heavily draped bed, steeped in his own personal magic, before he bared this embarrassment.
Theo was on his heels. Draco turned to see him throw his suitcoat over the back of an armchair by the fireplace, pocket a cufflink, and begin to roll up a sleeve.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s get into it,” said Theo. “What have you tried?”
“Everything obvious—but it’s all unfocused. I can’t cast on my own back.”
Theo was rolling up his other sleeve. “Was there a riddle? Or a bargain? Does it go away once you’ve completed some task—made a trade? What did Pomphrey use on Pansy’s antlers?”
“Probably chocolate,” said Draco dryly. “And I don’t remember. I think this may have been the cost of the trip back. The trade’s been made.”
“Hm,” said Theo, mouth twisting. He twirled his finger. “C’mon, let’s see it.”
Draco rolled his eyes but he was untying the sash. He turned his back to Theo and dropped the robe. He was naked.
“Huh,” said Theo.
Draco wasn’t sure he liked that tone.
He could sense Theo moving closer. He knew what Theo was seeing. The tail was long and whiplike, sprouting from a discreet bulge over Draco’s tailbone and covered in a thin layer of the same white-blond hair that topped Draco’s head, tapering to a ridiculous little tuft at the end. He’d come home from the inn with it wound around one leg.
“Can I pet it?” asked Theo.
“No,” snapped Draco—but it was too late. He felt Theo’s finger stroke the base of the tail and a shudder rippled through him.
“Huuuh,” said Theo.
“Shut up,” said Draco. The tail had swayed at Theo’s touch. It was muscle and bone—he could feel it.
Theo stroked it again, and Draco swatted at him, catching his hip.
“Try a finite—”
“All right, all right.”
Draco stood and stared at his bed while Theo cast finite and reparifors and reparifarge and offero and reverte. Theo was good—if anything would work, it should work for him.
But it wasn’t working. Draco rolled his neck and shifted his weight as Theo tried one spell after another. He could feel the tail snapping back and forth.
“All right, mate—calm down.” Theo stroked the tail, and Draco turned to smack at him. Theo batted away his hand, and now they were face to face. The tail whipped and Theo batted it away too. Draco could smell him—whiskey and sandalwood.
“What do you want to do?” asked Theo.
“You’re going to have to cut it off,” said Draco.
“You want me to dock your tail? No, mate—” He was shaking his head. “I’m not doing that.”
“Just lop it off—”
“I can’t dismember you—”
“That’s not my member, that’s spell blowback—”
“It’s attached to you—”
“Until you lop it off!”
“Turn around—” Theo’s hand was warm on his bare hip. “Let me get a better look.”
Draco turned around. Theo stepped back and then leaned down—Draco could sense him moving behind him. Then Theo took hold of the tail at the base—
And Draco’s shoulder jumped to his ear as he squirmed. “What’re you—”
“I gotta see what I’m working with here.” Theo was lifting the tail, his hand gripped round it. “How am I—I don’t know, mate.”
His hand was moving on the tail as he shifted it. Draco was trying not to shiver—
“It’s not a clean cut. You’re going to have a stub.”
It felt good—not like a wank but not not like a wank. The tail was all fine hair over skin, the base sensitive. Theo had it lifted, exposing Draco’s arse.
Theo’s hand slid along the tail.
“Look, mate—”
Draco knew he didn’t like that tone.
Theo straightened. “You gotta let me hit it.”
“What.” Draco looked over his shoulder, but Theo had hold of the tail and now his other hand was squeezing Draco’s hip.
“When else am I going to fuck someone with a tail!” Theo had leaned in to make his case. “C’mon—you gotta let me. It’s once in a lifetime—”
“We’re not in school anymore—that was once in a lifetime—”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t,” said Theo.
“Cause we were fifteen and randy—”
“I’m randy now,” said Theo. “C’mon, this is hot.”
“It’s not—” But Theo squeezed the base and Draco squirmed.
“Ah! C’mon, lover.” Theo’s voice had gone low. “Don’t you want to try fucking while someone touches it?”
“No, stop it—”
But Draco made a noise—a little huff in the back of his throat—as Theo stroked the base and the tail curled toward him. Draco faced forward and didn’t say anything as Theo’s hand smoothed over his hip.
A shiver went down his spine.
“One time,” said Theo.
“No,” said Draco.
“C’mon,” said Theo. His hand moved on Draco.
Draco’s heart was beating harder. He could feel the heat of Theo’s body, close. Theo’s hand on the tail, Theo’s hand on his hip, the blood flowing to his cock—
“Whatever,” he said.
Theo hummed. “Can we do kissing?” he asked. “I like kissing. It’s weird without it.”
Draco sighed. He liked kissing too. Women—he liked kissing women. But that hadn’t happened in a while.
Theo’s hand trailed up his side.
As long as it’d been since he’d had sex, it’d been longer since he’d been fucked. Theo hadn’t tried it since they were kids. Until now. Until the tail.
It was Theo.
The tail swayed.
“Yeah, we can do kissing,” muttered Draco.
He moved to face Theo, Theo’s hands releasing and turning him as he did.
Theo smiled at him. He had plush lips and long eyelashes and dark hair with a wave that would turn into curls—saved from being too pretty by a square jaw and thick eyebrows. His smile was wide and delighted. Like they were friends, doing something stupid because why not? It was just Theo.
Draco cocked his chin, and Theo leaned in—his hand warm on Draco’s side—and kissed him. It was muscle memory—Draco tilted his head as his lips parted. And then Theo’s tongue was in his mouth—he tasted like whiskey—and Draco’s eyes had fallen closed and Theo’s fingertips were pressing in. Draco could feel the tail waving back and forth as his tongue moved with Theo’s and his cock got hard.
Draco did like kissing. He’d missed this.
Theo broke the kiss and grinned at him as he toed off his pointy dragonskin shoes. “Why’d we stop doing that?”
“Cause I don’t like men and I can’t stand you,” said Draco as Theo began to unbutton his shirt.
“That’s right,” said Theo, eyes lowered to Draco’s erection. “And my girlfriend said I couldn’t.”
“You told Pans?” Draco’s eyebrows had shot up, the tail whipping behind him.
“Wait, was I seeing Pans then?” Theo squinted as he unbuckled his belt. “I thought that was you. Hey—”
He caught Draco’s jaw and kissed him, harder this time. And Draco gave up. He kissed back, hard and hungry, and let the tail wag while Theo held his face.
Then Theo was dropping his shirt, shucking off his trousers and pants, pulling off his socks, and Draco was throwing back the coverlet, not letting himself think about what he was doing. He was climbing onto the high, curtained bed and Theo was following him. He was sitting back on his heels while Theo crouched on his knees and kissed him, Theo’s hand reaching for the tail as it waved toward him. Draco’s fingers were on Theo’s thigh and Theo was running his hand up a length of the tail and Draco was trying not to shiver and groan.
Theo’s hand at his shoulder, Theo’s hand on the tail, the wet heat of Theo’s mouth—it was overwhelming. Theo kissed his jaw and lowered his mouth to Draco’s neck and Draco’s head fell back and he might have groaned then. It felt like—like more than whatever. More than something stupid. It felt like Theo wanted him and that wasn’t fair—Draco was just out of practice and now everything felt like love.
Theo kissed his throat and started to suck and Draco should have stopped him but he didn’t. Theo lifted his head and kissed his mouth again and Draco could feel the air hit Theo’s saliva on his neck. Draco could feel everything.
“How do you want to—I want to see your tail,” murmured Theo.
“Don’t say it like that. We’re going to cut it off—”
“Mm-hm,” said Theo. He kissed Draco some more.
Then Theo was moving behind him. “C’mon—let me see it.”
Draco rolled his eyes but then he was on his hands and knees and Theo was messing with the tail—stroking the very top of the base so that it lifted—
“Nice,” said Theo.
Then Draco sucked in a breath as Theo took hold of the tail and palmed one side of Draco’s arse and lowered his head and licked his arsehole. Draco let his head drop down. His eyes fell closed as sensation flooded him. Theo worked the base of the tail and licked and licked and licked, his tongue circling and prodding.
Draco felt the heels of his hands pushing into the mattress and remembered being fifteen, Theo talking him into it. “I’ll fuck you and then you’ll fuck me and we’ll both get off that way—it’s genius.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco had said.
But the girls weren’t offering and Draco had been randy as hell and—all right—he’d been curious. The older boys were always grabbing arse and taking the piss, saying it didn’t count if it was just to get off—acting like it was the worst thing you could do but then talking about it all the time.
Draco had said, “Why do you get to go first?”
And Theo had said, “‘Cause it’s my idea.”
“That’s why it should be your arsehole. You’re the one who wants to do this—”
“We’ll flip for it, then.”
And then Draco had lost the coin toss.
They’d been pissed after a party and tried it. Too fast. Goddamn it had hurt—Draco had punched Theo before they’d got anywhere. What the fuck, mate? I’m doing that to you next time. But, the next time, Theo had said, C’mon, I’ll be careful, and Draco, hammered after a match he hadn’t caught the snitch in, had said, Whatever. And Theo had gone slower, with a lot more lube, and Draco had been so hard he’d had to touch himself and then he’d nutted harder than he’d ever nutted before and Theo had come in him and Draco had said, What the fuck, you knob. That’s disgusting. And then he’d wanked off a lot thinking about it. He hadn’t known you could come from being fucked—he’d thought you waited your turn. The next time was meant to be his turn but he’d kept remembering how hard he’d come and he’d said, Whatever. Just do it. It was disgusting but it was hot—being out of control, doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.
But Theo hadn’t used his mouth back then. He’d barely used his fingers.
Now Theo was diligently rimming and the tail was waving overhead and Draco couldn’t touch his cock or he’d come immediately.
Theo pulled away and Draco’s eyes blinked open and he felt the cool wash of the lubrication charm—a twist of delicious shame in his chest. There was something so nasty about letting someone else lubricate you (though Draco hadn’t felt that way when he’d been the one doing it to a girl). (All right, maybe he had.) Theo’s thumb was moving on Draco’s arsehole. “God, you’re going to be so tight—”
“Yeah, fuckwad, because I don’t do this.”
“Mm,” hummed Theo. “You’re going to do it for me.”
A twist in Draco’s chest. “Not if you keep talking—”
“I’m going to fuck this tight little arse—”
“You are such an arsehole,” said Draco, but the tail waved and he took a breath as Theo pushed the tip of his finger into him.
“Hmm,” hummed Theo, and Draco exhaled, the warmth seeping through him. “Mm, look at you—”
“Yeah,” sighed Draco, “I’m a freak—”
“No, it looks good.” Theo had hold of the tail. He was pushing his finger further into Draco. “It’s hot. Great placement. More people should have tails.”
Draco hung his head and concentrated on breathing, on the sensation of Theo fingerfucking him and stroking the tail.
“Touch your cock for me, lover.”
“Shut up,” said Draco, but he was doing it—braced on one hand while his other moved to his cock. Theo fingerfucked him for a while and then—the cool wash of the lubrication charm—pushed in a second finger.
Draco was breathing harder. His heart pounding. He’d tensed and then relaxed, let it happen. Let Theo do this to him while Theo made little appreciative noises and murmured, “That’s it.”
Theo pulled his hand. Draco could feel Theo’s cockhead bumping against him as he lined himself up. The charm again.
Draco tensed.
“Shhh,” said Theo. “It’s just me.”
And then he was wedging the head of his cock into Draco. It hurt and Draco tensed and then breathed out, told himself to relax. He did relax and Theo pushed the head in—goddamn—and then stopped and stroked Draco’s hip. “Shh,” he murmured. “Don’t move. Just wait.”
Theo’s hand roamed over him and Draco breathed out and got used to it and Theo slowly, gradually, with little thrusts and more lube, pushed all the way in. “That’s it,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well.”
“Shut up,” said Draco.
“Aw, sweetheart. You’re doing so well. You’re such a good boy. Look at you—”
“Goddammit, Nott—”
“You can swear at me all you like, lover. Your tail’s wagging.”
Draco sucked in a breath because it was true—he could feel the tail grazing Theo’s chest as it moved. Theo was right up against him.
And then Theo rolled his hips, pulling back part-way and stroking back in, and then Theo was fucking him and Draco groaned and lowered his forehead to his forearm, braced on the bed.
“That’s it,” said Theo, fucking him with a firm grip on his tail. “You’re going to make me come so fast with this tight little arse squeezing on me—”
“Do you always yap the whole time—”
“Just for you, lover. I gotta tell you how good you are.”
Draco sighed as pleasure rolled through him—Theo’s hand at his tail, the stretch of Theo in him, Theo hitting everything just right. The odd satisfaction of hearing you’re going to make me come, like Draco was the one doing it to him.
Theo held onto him and fucked him, murmuring, “Such a good boy.”
And “Yes, you are.”
And “You’re being so good for me right now.”
Theo was laying it on thick and Draco wanted to scoff at him taking the piss but—
“You’re going to make me come, lover—fuck, you’re so good.”
But, goddammit, it was working. Theo sounded riled up. Breathy. Like he was about to come undone. Draco had the power to do that to another person—make them get out of their head, make them want it. He hadn’t felt that way in forever.
“Fuck, this tail is hot.”
Theo was fucking him hard now. Draco was wincing, fisting himself. “As soon as I come . . .” said Draco, panting. “I’m kicking you out.”
“I’m not going,” said Theo, breathing hard. “If you don’t hold me, I’ll feel used.”
Then Theo was slamming into him, fucking him fast, and Draco was gasping a little, fisting himself fast too. Everything building and tightening—
And then Draco was coming all over his sheets—the tail whipping against Theo—and Theo was coming in him and Draco groaned. Fuck.
They stayed there for a moment, just breathing.
Then Theo pulled out—they both made a noise—and Draco felt the scourgify and the episkey. Good for Nott—good manners—but Draco was still going to feel it.
Theo scourgified the sheets and Draco flopped onto his back and then rolled onto his side—the tail—and Theo threw himself down and turned to Draco and kissed him. “All right, that was fun.”
Draco scoffed but he let Theo kiss him and lean his head against his and pat his thigh.
They breathed together for a while. Theo’s fingertips traced over Draco’s leg. Draco’s tail flicked lazily.
“I like the tail,” said Theo. “I think you should keep it.”
“Goddammit—”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to be helping—”
“And then you showed me your slutty little arse and your slutty little tail. What did you think was going to happen?”
Draco huffed. “I’m cutting it off.”
“Well, I’m not helping. You’ll have to mutilate yourself yourself—”
“That’s not me.”
Theo ran his fingertip up Draco’s hip and the tail flicked as the goosebumps prickled. Theo laughed. “Yeah, it is.”
Draco sighed. “I can’t walk around with a tail.”
“You can still walk?” said Theo. “I didn’t fuck you hard enough—”
“Oh, shut up,” said Draco.
“I did come loads,” said Theo, off-hand. “You’re going to be shitting come for a week—”
“God—” Draco jerked his head back while Theo laughed.
“Oh, don’t be cross!” Theo was grabbing his hip, grabbing his arse, while Draco fended him off. Draco pulled away and Theo rolled with him—and then Draco was on his back and Theo was leaning over him, smiling. Close, like they were going to kiss.
“Stop,” said Draco. “You’re going to confuse me.”
Theo pulled back a little.
Draco closed his eyes—fuck, he hadn’t meant to say that. He looked up at Theo. “It was a one-time thing. For your bucket list.”
“Right,” said Theo carefully. “Shag blond bloke with tail. Check.”
Draco looked up at him.
Theo watched his face.
“Shouldn’t you get back to Daph?” said Draco.
“Yeah,” said Theo. He didn’t move.
“Don’t tell her,” said Draco.
Theo’s eyebrows shot up.
“About the tail,” said Draco.
Theo wetted his lips—the tip of his tongue, his lower lip sucked into his mouth. “It’s just between us,” he said. His thumb moved on Draco. “Just, uh—” His eyes dropped down. He wasn’t meeting Draco’s gaze. “Don’t do anything rash.”
His eyes flicked up to Draco’s.
Draco watched his face.
“About the tail,” said Theo.
He’d known Theo his whole life.
Theo said, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
That familiar mouth. Those familiar eyes. That little mole by his eyebrow.
Theo said, “Trying to get rid of it.”
“Uh huh,” said Draco.
Theo tilted his head, exasperated. “Just don’t do any more spells you find in books bound in human skin—”
Draco snorted. “That’s my entire job, Theo.”
Theo was shaking his head. But then he leaned in—quick—and pecked Draco on the mouth. He climbed out of the bed. “It was good for me too,” he said.
He bent and tossed Draco’s robe onto the bed, and Draco watched while Theo put on his clothes and left.
Draco’s eyes lingered on the doorway. Then he made himself look away. The dark green damask wallpaper, the silk-upholstered armchairs, the black marble fireplace—he idly took it all in. It’d been the same since he’d been a schoolboy.
The tail was lying limp beside him on the wrinkled sheets.
Draco caught it up and ran it through his hands. It was soothing. The tip twitched back and forth. He’d been bluffing the last time he’d said he’d cut it off. It was flesh and bone and muscle. It was part of him now.
If he could reverse the spell, he would.
But he couldn’t cut it off.