Empty Spaces

Chapter 9

The following days passed in a confusing mix of elation and loneliness, hope and fear. To Andor, Draco wasn't a Malfoy. He was just Draco, and it was probably the best feeling he had ever experienced in his entire life. Whether it was love or happiness, he really couldn't say, but it was certainly a feeling of freedom that he'd never known before. On the other hand, the guilt was crushing-- was he doing this because he really wanted it or was he doing it just because he could? And the constant dread in the back of his mind... What would Lucius do if he found out? And then there was the fear of Andor's reaction when he uncovered the truth about who Draco really was... His schoolwork was now suffering too, although Draco maintained that he would be able to catch up once things calmed down.

"Would you be interested in coming to London with me this weekend?" Andor asked one evening in late September, "The publisher is having a big gala, lots of drinks, good food... We're allowed a plus one. I should warn you, though, it's a Muggle event, I publish for both magical and non-magical audiences, under a pseudonym of course–"

But Andor was interrupted by Draco's mouth crashing into his. Hell yea, I am going to this event with you as your plus-one. Part of him wasn't sure whether the appeal was Andor himself or simply the thought of sticking it to his father, but for now, in this moment, nothing was hotter than the man in front of him who represented so many things Lucius hated.

Andor's response to Draco's advance was glorious, and Draco could tell this was a man who knew what he was doing in many aspects of life, including loving. Saturday night rolled around, and they apparated into Muggle London, entering a hotel that rivaled any Magical one with its gigantic twinkling chandeliers and ornate decor. Born and bred for society events, Draco allowed himself to be escorted around at Andor's side, making toasts and small talk and smiling a lot. It was perfect– he was perfect, his date was perfect, the drinks were more than perfect. So why couldn't he just enjoy the damn night? He was reminded uncomfortably of his mother the whole time, accompanying his father at similar functions as if she were a human piece of jewelry, serving no purpose other than to smile and make other people feel good about themselves.

"You're doing wonderfully, liebling, just stay by my side and let me do the talking," Andor whispered in his ear at some point. Draco knew they were meant to be words of reassurance, but all he felt was annoyed. Still, he was at a Muggle event with a handsome date– up yours, Lucius.

The hours ticked by, the crowd began to thin, and Andor finally leaned over and whispered into Draco's ear.

"Shall we find our room, then, liebling?"

Draco shivered in anticipation, a combination of nerves and excitement. Am I here because I want to be here? Or just because I know my father would shit himself if knew? Or is it because of something else?

"Lead the way," Draco settled for saying. They barely made it into the elevator before their lips crashed, hearts racing as their hands searched for forbidden things just out of reach. It was dangerous and exciting and dammit who knew these things could be so thrilling. Draco's brain vaguely managed to register that they made it out of the elevator, past a few rooms, into a suite, and straight onto the bed.

"No, wait– I–" Draco found himself saying as Andor's hands finished unbuttoning his shirt. It hadn't occurred to him that what they were about to do involved revealing himself... his scars... his past... Andor looked at him with unbiased eyes. Draco couldn't bear the thought of how that look would change upon seeing...

"It's alright, liebling," Andor reassured, removing his hands and holding them up. "I know who you are. I may not be from here, but even on the continent, the Malfoy name is a formidable one." His eyes dropped to Draco's left arm. So he does know.

"Is it now?" Draco said. It came out sounding colder than he'd intended.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met, though" Andor continued, propping himself up on his elbow, stroking back Draco's hair, "You can toast with the stuffiest of them all, yet somehow none of that scheiße has gone to your head..."

Draco scoffed. His one redeeming quality was that he somehow managed to not be a complete idiot despite his upbringing as a society boy? Lovely. Andor, however, seemed unfazed.

"You know you don't have to tell me anything about your past that you're not comfortable sharing," Andor whispered in his ear, kissing the tip and then working his way down Draco's neck. "Or do anything you're not comfortable doing tonight. Alright?"

"Alright," Draco felt childish again, despite knowing full well what he was getting into when he accepted this invitation. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his wand, flicking it up at the lights, dimming them.

What does Draco Malfoy want? This. Whatever "this" is. Up yours, Lucius.

Draco set his wand down and peeled back his shirt, feeling Andor's eyes taking in the sight of him. Warm hands lifted off his undershirt, and there it was for all the world to see... his past, his scars... but Andor simply took his face in his hands, caressing his cheek and kissing him with fervor, sending shivers down his spine.

"Be my lover tonight... I don't need to know your past. I only need to know you now..."

Draco found himself powerless to resist and– while he didn't say yes – he definitely didn't say no , either. He drifted off to sleep afterwards in his lover's arms, feeling a confusing mixture of guilt and elation and a million things he couldn't name. He didn't dislike what they'd done, actually, he'd probably happily do it again. Is this what love feels like? He realized that night he wasn't really sure.

"Guten morgen, liebling," Andor rolled over in bed the next morning. "As-tu bien dormi?"

"Show off," Draco muttered, burying his face in his lover's chest and away from the morning sunlight. "Good morning to you too, and I slept just fine, thank you very much."

"German and French," Andor sounded impressed while Draco prickled with irritation, "You are full of surprises, liebling."

"Oh, verpiss dich," Draco shot back.

"With pleasure. Care to join?"

Everything about the whole situation screamed yes. Andor was such a perfect man– cultured, intelligent... So what was it??? Deciding that giving a shit was just way too damn difficult, Draco simply said yes.