1  How Draco Malfoy Joined the Mile High Club

All things considered, Draco thought, he clearly shouldn't have done this. It was just a bit silly. Flying on your broomstick in the middle of a storm did sound like a bad idea. Therefore, Draco couldn't fathom what possessed him to go flying on a night like this. It served him right, really. Of course lightning had struck his broomstick, and of course Draco fell, and of course, in a couple of moments, he would literally have to say goodbye to his brain.

Draco braced himself — it would hurt just for a second, he told himself soothingly.

His body hit something solid and Draco wanted to cry out in pain, except ... there was no pain. He tried to open his eyes just as air made a whooshing sound and nearly rendered Draco deaf. Bewildered, he realized he was rising upwards instead of falling down.

Not sure whether to feel panicked or relieved, Draco opened his eyes and decided that panicking would be a reasonable course of action. He had been grabbed by a giant bird whose huge black wings flapped madly about while a pair of strong hands gripped Draco's waist almost painfully.

Oh, Merlin, it was a hippogriff!

Except, the hippogriff looked very human-like — with black hair, pale skin and green eyes.

Draco screamed in alarm.

It wasn't a hippogriff — it was something much, much worse. He had just been grabbed by Harry Potter!

Abruptly, all movement stopped and the ringing in Draco's ears went quiet. All he could hear was the rapid beating of his heart and feel the light swaying motion as they paused in midair. Draco gathered his, figuratively, scattered brain and tried to make sense out of this situation.

He had been flying, he fell, and now Harry Potter, who had randomly flown by, caught him. Right. Draco stared at amused green eyes in terror.

"Fancy meeting you here." Potter grinned, acting like he had just met Draco in a bloody bar. As if he wasn't some vicious beast who had snatched Draco from midair, surely planning to eat him for dinner. Well, a midnight snack. Because Potter, last Draco heard, was a veela and veelas ate people.

In fairytales.

That was what Draco's father had told him. Draco thought about it some more. It was possible that that was a lie.

Potter's hands were wrapped around Draco's back, pressing him so close that Draco could feel Potter's hot breath caressing his face. The night wasn't chilly any more. It was quite warm all of a sudden. Dizzyingly so.

"Put me down!" Draco ordered with all the authority that he could muster in this predicament. It wasn't much, judging by Potter's evil smirk. Draco replayed his words in his head. "No. I mean, land, put me down, and then let me go!" he corrected himself quickly, grabbing Potter's shoulders more firmly lest Potter preferred the first erroneous instruction instead.

Potter's smirk turned into a positively sinful smile. "I think you're the one that needs to let go."

Draco frowned but then blushed, realizing what Potter meant. Apparently, Draco's disobedient legs had wrapped themselves firmly around Potter's waist. That was just pure survival instinct!

"I mean it," Draco snapped. "Just put me back on the ground!"

"Back? Oh, I'm sorry, I found you in the air. Finders keepers." Potter emphasized his point by lowering one of his hands down Draco's back and cupping Draco's arse firmly. Draco gasped, just because the rain had started to drizzle, not because Potter's hand felt good or anything.

"I ..." Draco found it hard to concentrate. Potter was working some mad veela charms on him. He must have been, because otherwise Draco wouldn't have found himself staring at Potter's lips, wishing that they would kiss him.

"Yes?" Potter inquired politely. And calmly, as though he didn't look like an avenging angel — with wild hair, dark clothes and huge glossy wings that swayed gently around them. Potter's face almost glowed in the dark; that part of him looked pale and ethereal against the blackness. His green eyes burned with what Draco easily recognized as desire.

Oh, Draco had heard about this. Potter's sexual appetites were famous. Since it had been discovered he was a veela, the press had followed him even more closely than before, if possible. Not a day went by without the Prophet reporting yet another charmed individual left breathless and sated after being thoroughly fucked by Harry Potter, the Amazing Horny Veela. Admittedly, the Prophet's vocabulary was less crude. They had called it 'intense veela encounters.'

Draco was completely disgusted with that whole business. The way women and men just threw themselves into Potter's arms. Potter's warm, strong, possessive arms. Oh, Merlin no! Draco was falling for this — he could feel it. What a way to end the lovely, if nearly deadly, night — caught and buggered in midair by a bloody veela. How utterly humiliating.

One of Potter's hands grabbed Draco's hair and tugged, making him tip his head back a little. Green eyes were even closer now and Draco shivered at their intensity. Potter loomed over him, his wings blocking out the light and taking away precious air. Or maybe Draco just forgot to breathe.

Not taking his hot gaze from Draco's eyes, Potter stuck out his tongue and trailed it slowly over Draco's bottom lip. It was hard not to shiver at that, harder still when Potter caught the flesh between his teeth, nibbling and sucking, making Draco's whole body tingle.

Potter smiled as though he knew exactly what his ministrations did to Draco. He whispered, "Are you sure you want me to put you down?" Potter's eyes twinkled. He knew, the bastard, Draco thought with dismay. He knew that there was no denying him when he spoke in that deep, rumbling voice that promised pleasures beyond imagining. "If I put you down — I won't take you back up." Potter emphasized his point by licking Draco's lip again and squeezing his arse for good measure.

Draco bucked and squirmed, inadvertently rubbing his cock against the hardness in Potter's pants. Damn. Suddenly it felt silly to insist to be put down when Draco was doing just fine where he was. Potter's lips hovered over Draco's — a tantalising promise were Draco to say yes.

Stupid Potter. Couldn't he just kiss him already?

"Well? What will it be, Draco? Will you stay?" Potter pushed one hand past the waistband of Draco's pants, trailing a finger over the sensitive flesh of Draco's lower back and then dipping gently into the crevice, making Draco moan and clench his arse on instinct.

"Fine!" Draco snapped. "But drop me and I'll rip your feathers off!"

Draco meant to complain and threaten some more but Potter's lips lowered onto his neck and Draco gasped in pleasure as Potter bit his collarbone harshly. Potter soothed the bite with a swipe of his tongue and then moved on, nibbling and sucking the tender skin.

"Nnngh," Draco managed and Potter laughed against his skin, the resulting vibrations sending bolts of pleasure through Draco's body.

Taken though he was with Potter's dedicated mauling of his neck, Draco still felt a sudden rush of magic, and then the unexpected bite of the cold air. Perplexed and horrified, he realized that his clothes had vanished.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Draco gasped.

Potter didn't answer but instead brought his lips to press them gently on Draco's. "I plan to ram my cock inside you and fuck you until you think you can fly. How am I supposed to do that with your clothes on?" Potter murmured, his hot breath scorching Draco's mouth.

Draco forgot his complaints instantly, his mind coming to a screeching halt at the ram my cock inside you part. No recovery for his brain was forthcoming because all of Draco's blood rushed south when Potter plunged his tongue into Draco's mouth.

There was no other way to describe Potter's kiss than possessive. The dark veela kissed like he was trying to claim Draco for all eternity and Draco had to admit that he was succeeding. Potter's tongue wrapped itself around Draco's, licking and sucking until Draco's toes curled and his hips moved, making his cock rub against the harsh material of Potter's pants.

Fingers caressed Draco's cleft and then two slick digits slid inside Draco's hole. Draco would have cried out in pleasure if he wasn't busy with the very important task of sucking on Potter's tongue. Draco's legs clenched around Potter even harder as Potter tore his mouth away and pushed his fingers inside Draco more insistently. This time Draco did cry out, dismayed at the fact that Potter found that amusing, because he smiled at Draco wickedly and sped up the movement of his hand, thrusting his fingers upwards almost brutally.

Not that Draco was complaining. He gripped Potter's shoulders harder and pushed down with his hips taking the fingers deeper and just at the right angle. He shuddered and clenched in pleasure as the fingers hit his prostate. But Potter cruelly moved his hand away and for a second Draco panicked until he realized that Potter was still supporting some of his weight with one hand placed on his arse.

Potter kissed him again, with a series of wet, sloppy kisses that made Draco hum and moan as he tasted the sweet flavour of Potter's mouth. The kisses were intoxicating and Draco thought that he could never get enough.

Something hot and big pressed on Draco's opening and he gasped and almost whimpered in anticipation. He opened his eyes and met intense green irises nearly swallowed by dilated pupils.

"Go on," Potter whispered hoarsely.

Draco took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. He slowly pressed down and took Potter's length inside him, inch by slow inch, not because he was worried that it would hurt otherwise, but because he liked being filled slowly, feeling his body stretch to accommodate the hot hardness.

Potter closed his eyes and groaned, throwing his head back and exposing the tender skin of his neck. Draco was just about to lick the delectable offering when Potter jerked and pressed Draco's hips, pulling him firmly down, and sheathing himself fully in Draco's body.

Draco gasped and lost his grip on Potter's shoulders and, to his horror, found himself falling backwards. His bare back hit something solid and Draco realized that Potter had placed his hands beneath him, preventing his fall.

Draco's legs were still firmly wrapped around Potter's waist but with his hands flailing about he felt like he could fall any second. He grabbed Potter's biceps — oh! — hard biceps — and looked at the grinning veela looming over him.

Potter looked terrifying in his beauty. The silky black feathers of his huge wings shimmered in the dark while his face glowed and gaze devoured the sight before him, and Draco concluded that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be the meal in this instance.

With a flap of his wings and a twitch of his hips, Potter suddenly moved and Draco screamed as the cock inside him was pulled away and then slammed back in with the force that shook the clouds above or maybe just made Draco dizzy.

A thousand sharp, cold needles pierced Draco's bare chest and Draco gasped in panic but then realized that rain had begun to fall in earnest. Cold drops of water were falling down on his unprotected skin, the chill almost welcome as it cooled the burning heat building steadily inside him, consuming his whole body.

Potter's rhythm was fast and brutal and Draco struggled to keep up. He dug his fingers into Potter's muscles and welcomed every stab of the hard cock that plundered his arse without mercy. With each thrust, Potter's wings fanned a rush of cold air against Draco's heated skin and a giddy part of Draco's mind realized that Potter was almost flying into him!

As Draco threw his head back and arched his body, moaning, he vaguely wondered how this must look, if anyone was in the position to see. Draco Malfoy, completely naked in the air in the middle of a downpour, letting an unearthly-looking dark man fuck him silly.

There was little time to worry about that as pleasure hummed lightly through Draco's body and then intensified, building within him, and finally burst out as Draco screamed and convulsed, clamping down on the cock inside him.

Draco moaned and shuddered with aftershocks that seemed to last forever. Potter was still pounding into him but Draco couldn't help him reach his completion because he was too dazed and overwhelmed with this unexpected experience. He stared at the sky, wondering why the clouds were so close.

Potter moaned loudly and feathers rustled as he shuddered violently and warm wetness filled Draco's arse.

Draco felt like he was falling. The whooshing sounds of air and rain assaulted his ears, and through his haze Draco noticed that the clouds were moving upwards. How very odd.

With a gasp and a panicked jerk of his body, Draco suddenly realized what was going on.

"Potter! You overgrown bat! We're falling! Fly, damn you!"

Green eyes snapped open and Draco had only a little time to panic further. After a flap of wings and rustle of feathers they landed on the ground with a loud thump.

After a dreadful moment, Draco dared to open his eyes and sighed in relief, realizing that he was alive if a little winded. Potter was beneath him, groaning and grimacing as he rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Draco would have aww-ed at the fact that Potter had flipped them so that Draco's fall would be cushioned by Harry's body, but he was too pissed that they had fallen in the first place. He reached for one glossy feather and stroked the silky thing for a fascinated moment before plucking it away. Potter winced and opened his eyes to glare.

"That's for making us fall," Draco declared, lifting up to straddle the fallen veela.

Potter frowned. "That never happened to me before."

"That's because you never had my arse before," Draco said smugly. "It was just too spectacular for you, obviously."

Potter grinned and shook his head, but didn't deny the statement.

Draco got up, wincing a little and trying to make the world stop spinning and his legs to support him. With some effort, he managed to stand upright, trying not to grumble at the sudden chill that passed through him. After all, he was naked and it was raining.

Potter was splayed on the ground, his wings spread beneath him and his hair wet and wild around his pale face.

He was wretchedly beautiful, even sprawled in the mud, and Draco thought he would very much like to keep him.

"Look at you. You look like a fallen angel." Draco grinned, licking his lips. Potter threw him an annoyed look while he struggled to get up. Apparently, it was difficult to do that with wings attached to you. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers." Draco smirked.

"Are you quite finished with the lame jokes?" Potter grumbled, finally standing up straight.

"For now." Draco nodded solemnly. "My clothes?" he asked in a polite tone, trying not to sound too worried.

It was Potter's turn to smirk. Slowly stretching his wings, he walked over to Draco and carefully, as though he wasn't sure if Draco would allow it, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Draco's lips.

Draco was having none of that so he grabbed the veela's hair and kissed him firmly, devouring the delicious mouth. Potter responded eagerly by sliding his tongue along Draco's, humming in contentment as he did so.

After they had separated, both breathing shallowly, Draco found himself fully dressed.

"Your kisses are magical," Draco murmured, a smile tugging on his lips.

Potter smiled brilliantly in return, lighting up the night as well as Draco's quivering insides.

"I have to go." Potter spread his wings, stepping away.

Draco tried not to pout but, judging by Potter's indulgent expression, he might have stuck out his bottom lip after all.

"I'll see you around," Potter said in a tingling voice, rising up in the air.

"I always fly here on Wednesdays!" Draco yelled out a little desperately.

Potter laughed, already high in the air now. "I know!" he shouted back and then swiftly flew away.

Draco sighed, hoping that his expression wasn't as soppy as he feared it was. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze form the sky and turned to walk back to his house, plotting his next move. This was one veela Draco would have liked to catch and keep around permanently. Hopefully, Potter's last declaration was a promise that he would be back next Wednesday. But then, Draco would be ready.

After all, if there was one thing that Draco knew — although he never needed it until now — it was how to catch birds.

2 Catching Birds

Apparently, this bird was a bit harder to catch. Draco had plotted and made brilliant plans but, somehow, he would always forget them when Potter actually appeared. Wednesday after Wednesday, Draco had been caught and manhandled from his broom and then buggered senseless high in the night air. It wasn't a bad, horrible fate, but the whole situation was beginning to get on Draco's nerves. Potter used his veela charms excessively, and ensnared Draco during their meetings to the point of absolute embarrassment. That just had to stop.

So Draco decided on a different approach this Wednesday.

He was sitting on the sofa and staring at the wall, going through his plan, making sure he didn't miss anything. He had spent the entire week reading up on veelas and had reached some conclusions regarding Harry Potter's behaviour. Obviously, Draco had thought of ways to exploit his newfound knowledge.

"It's Wednesday, and you know what that means." Pansy's voice broke through Draco's thoughts.

"What?" he asked, aware he had lost the thread of the conversation. Possibly a few hours ago.

Pansy sighed, and rolled her eyes. "You asked me whether I'd leave soon. And I said 'Yes, you rude bastard!'" Pansy crossed her arms over her chest. "It's Wednesday. It's fantasy night. Theo gets the most amazing ideas on Wednesdays! I have to be home for that," she said delightedly while Draco's eyes widened in horror. Oh, no! Pansy was clearly in her let's-share-our-experiences mood. Her face lit up and she smiled gleefully as she continued. "This one time —"

"Pansy!" Draco yelled, standing up.

"— he carved up a pumpkin —"

Draco covered his ears, wishing someone would save him. After a few moments, he moved his hands away, and listened to see if it was over.

"— and stuck two dildos — can you imagine? — right in —"

Draco covered his ears again. "Pansy, please. I don't want to hear it!" Oh the mental images! Pansy was still talking so Draco pressed his hands over his ears harder. Suddenly, Pansy's mouth closed, and after a moment, Draco lowered his hands carefully.

Pansy grinned victoriously. "It was like a little orange pony!" she squealed, clearly delighted with Draco's misery.

Draco glared. "Are you done?"

"Yes," Pansy sniffed. "You are very rude. First you ask for my help, and now you don't even want to share stories."

"You don't hear me telling you what I'm planning to do with the chains. Some things shouldn't be shared," Draco declared decidedly.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "You're no fun," she accused.

Draco threw his head back in exasperation. "Pansy ..."

"Fine. I'm leaving." She waved her hand impatiently and moved to the door. Draco sighed in relief, following her. "Have fun tying up your bloke, then," Pansy said, stepping through the doorway and turning around, casting her gaze this way and that way, all over the hallway as though expecting Draco had someone hidden in there.

"It's a bird, actually." Draco grinned.

Pansy blinked. "Sorry? You're gay," she informed him. "You told me you were gay!"

"Hurry home. It's fantasy night, remember? Maybe Theo will get a real pony this time." Draco smirked and closed the door even though Pansy had opened her mouth to say something else.

Honestly, what had he been thinking? Asking Pansy for favours. She'd been in his home for the last three hours, and Draco's ears were ringing. Not to mention it was pretty late, and Draco had things to do.

He rushed upstairs to his bedroom and unwrapped the package that Pansy had brought for him. He took out the beautiful silver chains, and after admiring them for a moment, went to the balcony, and set to work. After many carefully cast charms, Draco grinned in satisfaction and decided on his next course of action.

He left the balcony doors open, pulling the curtains apart, and lit many candles around the room, making sure that there was enough light. Then he took a special potion, he had designed and brewed himself — something he was very proud of — and after a quick cold shower that did little to quell his arousal, found himself lying on top of silk sheets on his four-poster bed.

This was the first Wednesday in a long time that Draco hadn't gone flying. He had no wish to be caught again. If Potter wanted him, he would have to come here and get him.

Draco stretched luxuriously and ran his fingers over his chest and stomach, a small thrill coursing through him. He knew very well that with the balcony doors open and curtains pulled apart, the candlelight made sure that Draco's every action was visible to anyone who might fly by his house.

Draco took a tube from beneath his pillow and squeezed some lube into his hand. He spread his legs and reached down, smearing the silky substance over his cock. He caressed the hard flesh teasingly, dragging a finger over the vein on the underside, and then circled his thumb over the head. He was in no rush — this was not how he planned to come tonight.

There was a rustle outside so Draco quickly closed his eyes. He stopped teasing himself and grabbed his cock firmly, arching his body and thrusting his pelvis upwards, enjoying the long, slow strokes.

Through a haze of pleasure, he heard a thud, a gasp, the clicking of chains, and finally a long string of loud curses.

Smirking, Draco opened his eyes. The expected sight appeared before him, though Draco's breath hitched nonetheless. He had forgotten what a forceful presence the veela was. Potter stood glaring in the doorway, tied firmly on the spot as the result of Draco's charms. The thin chains were wrapped around his wrists, making him hold his hands high above his head. Potter struggled fruitlessly, flapping his wings and yanking on the silver binds.

Draco stood up gracefully and approached the struggling veela, though he decided to stay a safe distance away.

"Fancy meeting you here," Draco echoed Potter's greeting of some weeks ago, with a smirk.

"Untie me!" Potter growled in a way that made Draco's cock twitch.

Draco shook his head, trying to appear unperturbed and exasperated. "I tied you up for a reason, Potter."

Potter growled again, tugging on the chains so hard Draco jumped, worried for a second that Potter would, not only free himself, but tear down the house as well. However, the chains didn't budge, and Potter could do little but fume in agitation.

"This is what you get for being a voyeur." Draco smiled, appraising his prey and licking his lips.

Potter's fury was palpable, not to mention frightening as he stared at Draco through the messy locks of hair that had fallen over his eyes. "Come here," Potter whispered.

Draco blinked as weakness spread through his body and suddenly he felt compelled to obey, but he had some trouble moving his feet.

"Come. Here," Potter repeated, and Draco moved at once, finding himself standing right in front of Potter within seconds. "Good," Potter praised, his voice smooth and silky. Draco was entranced by Potter's full lips, and he stared longingly as they parted and Potter murmured, "Untie me."

That sounded like a reasonable request now that Draco thought about it. Why on earth shouldn't he untie Potter? Draco raised his hand but then caught the angry look in Potter's eyes. Draco frowned, trying to work through his confusion and quite suddenly, the fog lifted from his mind as Draco came to his senses, and realized what had happened.

"You — stop that!" he scolded. "Your veela charms won't work on me. I took a potion that heightens one's power to counter mind-control. So don't even try it." Draco could only hope that Potter would listen to this. He had indeed taken the potion, but apparently, Potter's charms were stronger than anticipated.

Potter snarled and pulled on the binds madly, looking so terrifying Draco jumped backwards in fear. Honestly, this would be harder than Draco imagined.

"What do you want?" Potter asked through clenched teeth.

"Well first," Draco walked over to his night-cabinet and retrieved his wand, "I'd like to make sure you don't free yourself from these chains with your special powers." After a flick of Draco's wrist, a wand sprang from Potter's sleeve and flew into Draco's outstretched hand. "Or not so special." Draco smirked. In all those books he had read this week, there was nothing to indicted veelas had any special gift for wandless magic. Obviously, Potter just used his charms to confuse and then cast spells just like everybody else, but secretly, with his wand tucked in his sleeve.

Potter levelled a furious glare at Draco, one that could surely freeze Fiendfyre. The veela licked his lips, and his jaw twitched as he repeated, "What do you want?"

Draco came closer with ridiculously careful steps, still unsure whether Potter would demonstrate some secret abilities and attack. Draco's gaze flickered toward the black wings. "An endless supply of quills?" he suggested.

Potter didn't look amused, instead, he said in a hushed voice, "Whatever it is just get on with it. You don't want me turning impatient."

Draco would have liked to disagree. Scary or not, Potter looked quite enticing when angry. Which, perhaps, explained why Potter looked enticing all the time. "What do you think I want?" Draco asked with just a touch of sarcasm. Honestly, was it really that hard to guess?

Potter didn't answer, but just kept his rigid stance, standing so still he looked like he was sculptured from marble. Rather immaculately sculptured, in Draco's opinion.

Draco gathered his courage and walked over, coming dangerously close to the furious veela. He raised his wand and grinned. After a murmured incantation and a twist of his wrist, Potter's clothes disappeared.

Potter didn't even blink, but Draco could hear him gnashing his teeth. Draco tried to smirk, but couldn't quite manage to make his muscles move. Well, something did move on its own accord and Draco's mouth went dry at the sight of Potter standing naked before him. The flawless pale skin was stretched taut over toned muscles, and Draco's gaze travelled hungrily over flat stomach and strong, lean legs. He tried not to stare too blatantly at the long, hard cock that jutted proudly out of the dark patch of hair.

"Had your fill?" Potter asked in a scratchy voice.

Draco's gazed snapped up, towards glowering green eyes. "Not really," Draco blurted. "I think I could happily stare some more."

"What do you want?" Potter asked for the third time this evening, and Draco had begun to worry that the man was daft.

Draco came closer and tentatively raised his hand, touching the warm skin of Potter's chest with his fingertips. He trailed them slowly in a soft caress, pleased when Potter shivered almost imperceptibly. "What do you think?" Draco repeated his own words, this time without sarcasm but with clear desire in his tone.

Potter swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, making Draco consider licking it. "You said my veela charms don't work on you," Potter whispered, apparently having trouble with breathing properly.

Draco frowned and met Potter's gaze, surprised that Potter actually looked confused. "Well, they don't. What does that have to do with me wanting to fuck you six ways from Sunday?" Draco blinked. "Actually, a lot more times and on lot more ways to and from Sunday."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "You plan to keep me here?"

Draco smiled, his hand still tracing hard angles and soft skin, now on Potter's stomach. The muscles there shied away from his touch and Draco absentmindedly stored the information of Potter's ticklishness for future reference. "I plan to convince you to stay."

"Why would you — why would I want to stay?"

"Well, because I could drop down on my knees, swallow your cock, and suck you off so hard you would scream your lungs out before blacking out. And then I could repeat that on daily basis." Draco bit his lip as Potter flushed, the look in his eyes assuring Draco that it wasn't from embarrassment but arousal. "There are other reasons, of course. Should I describe them to you? Or perhaps —" Draco's hands flew behind Potter and grabbed the hard mounds of Potter's arse in a firm grip. Potter breathed in sharply as Draco pressed him to his body, their arousals touching none too gently. "Perhaps, you'd like me to show you?"

Potter's wings fluttered, and Draco wondered whether that was some subconscious reaction that Potter had no control over.

"Oh, I see," Potter panted out. "You want your own personal toy around?"

"Toy? I'm partial to the word lover, but if you want to be my toy ..."

"Lover?" Potter questioned, emphasizing the love segment of the word in a way that made Draco's cheeks heat up with sudden embarrassment.

Embarrassed for his outspokenness or not, Draco wasn't planning on being deterred. "Yes, Potter. Lover? Relationship? Dating? Any of these words mean something to you?"

Potter laughed, the noise jarring to Draco's ears as the bitterness was evident in the harsh sound. Green eyes looked at Draco scathingly, and Draco was forced to conclude that Potter didn't look at all beautiful in that moment, but rather bird-like and unappealing. "You want to go on a date with me?" Potter sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's what couples do," Draco said a bit defensively. "There's more to it than Wednesdays' midair fucks."

Potter stopped laughing and he stared at Draco with a pitying expression. Draco bristled at the condescending look that Potter was giving him, but then the veela whispered angrily, "I can't make them disappear, you know."

Draco failed to make any sense of that statement. "Make what disappear?"

"The wings," Potter hissed. "They're always there. I should be able to make them go away, but I can't! Still want to go out with me? Maybe we could visit the circus?" Potter spat, almost shaking with fury. Or maybe the shaking was the result of Draco teasingly circling a finger over the furrowed skin of Potter's entrance.

Draco bit down the first question that came to his mind, which was, 'What in the name of Merlin is a circus?' and instead he tried to remember the things he had read about veelas. "I thought veelas could retract their wings on will? Except when they're angry." Draco frowned at Potter's furious expression. "Have you tried not being angry all the time?"

Potter was breathing heavily, his face so close to Draco he could feel the veela's hot breath as Potter snarled, "Do you know I can't even sleep? One wrong move and I hurt the blasted things and I wake up. They're so sensitive ..." Potter sounded almost desperate, and Draco's heart clenched.

"Really?" Draco removed one hand from Potter's arse and reached to touch one black wing. He trailed his fingers gently over the glossy black feathers, but the minute he gripped one warm bone beneath them, Potter closed his eyes and whispered, "Don't."

Draco lowered his hand, bringing it back to the lovely place it was situated on before. "We'll think of something," Draco said soothingly.

Potter opened his eyes and stared. "This was a mistake. Untie me. I'm leaving. Find yourself a different lover."

"I don't want to. I want you."

"Well, you can't have me."

"Potter, you're being an arse. You're the one who started this —"

"Untie me!" Potter yelled, glaring hotly again.

"This not-getting-angry thing really isn't working for you ..."

Potter growled, and quite unexpectedly, jumped on the spot and wrapped his long legs around Draco's waist so firmly that Draco lost his ability to breathe.

"I bet I could break your spine," Potter threatened darkly.

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to take that bet," Draco gasped out, struggling for air.

Getting dizzy and increasingly worried, and not knowing what else to do since his wand was on the floor and he had no weapon to defend himself with, Draco moved one hand and after some fumbling and probing, he managed to shove two fingers up Potter's arse rather cruelly.

Potter yelled out, bucking, and loosening his grip on Draco's waist.

"Fuck!" Potter shuddered, and threw his head back, his wings flapping wildly, at times hitting each side of the doorway, making Potter wince and start thrashing all over again.

"Calm down," Draco soothed, moving his other hand to caress Potter's stomach. Potter gripped the chains and arched his spine, his legs still wrapped around Draco's waist as he clenched around the fingers inside him.

Draco didn't dare move his fingers further in or away. He had probably hurt Potter already, so not doing anything seemed like a reasonable thing to do. Potter had different plans though. Instead of trying to get away from Draco's intrusion, he moaned and moved his hips, pulling the fingers deeper into his body. Draco shuddered at the tightness and the heat, feeling irrationally jealous of his own fingers.

"Let me get my wand and cast a Lubrication Charm," Draco panted, trying to free himself in vain.

"Forget it. It doesn't matter." Potter moaned and raised his head to look at Draco with dark eyes and flushed cheeks. "This is what you wanted. Quit stalling and hurry up." Potter emphasised his request with another twitch of his hips. Draco stared at him for a moment, feeling captivated by the image. Potter was hanging there, clutching the chains and apparently unable to keep his head up, because he threw it back again as though in surrender. He looked completely trapped but uncaring and resigned.

Draco briefly considered suggesting to untie him, but with Potter offering himself so blatantly, it was difficult to think of anything but burying his cock in the heat in which his fingers were currently trapped.

Draco pulled his hand away carefully, grabbed his fortunately still slick cock in one hand, and trailed the crease of Potter's arse with the leaking head of his aching arousal. Potter rolled his hips, adjusting his body helpfully, and within seconds, Draco felt the tight ring of muscle open and give in to the intrusion. With a long, deep moan, Potter slid onto him in one slow move, curving his spine in an impossibly perfect arc, his wings folding beneath him as though in contentment.

Draco shivered, wondering whether he would still be standing upright if Potter wasn't gripping him so firmly. Potter was unloosened and unprepared, and the tightness was overwhelming, nearly painful for Draco, surely, it had to be excruciating for Potter. Draco was frozen on the spot, wanting to move but not sure if he could or should — he was gripped too tightly and he most certainly didn't want to hurt Potter.

But Potter jerked and pulled away with a groan and then slammed back, impaling himself harshly. Draco nearly screamed, grabbing Potter's hips and holding them for dear life.

As Potter continued to move relentlessly, Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from the fascinating play of muscles beneath the skin of Potter's stomach. The muscles stretched and convulsed continuously and a sheen of sweat and candlelight gave the skin a soft, golden hue. Dazedly, Draco reached for the hard cock that bobbed with Potter's every move. He was rewarded with a moan, almost a purr, which sent a jolt of pleasure straight to Draco's cock. Potter began to move even faster, crying out with every thrust as the chains rattled and the feathers rustled.

Draco could only hope he wouldn't pass out as a wave of pleasure hit him, rushing through him and leaving him breathless. Soon enough, a long string of pearly, white liquid shot out from the cock in his hand and splayed over Potter's chest and stomach. Someone was screaming but Draco wasn't sure whether it was him or Potter.

Minutes seemed to drag by as they swayed, regaining their breaths. Eventually, Potter released Draco from his death grip and lowered his legs to the floor. Draco found himself feeling jealous of the fact that Potter could support his weight by gripping the chains above him.

"Untie me," Potter breathed.

Had he been able, Draco would have sighed, but instead he looked around, and then, fighting dizziness, bent down to pick up his wand from the floor. After a wave and a murmured incantation, the chains tumbled to the floor. Impressively, Potter managed not to fall down with them. Instead, he stood straight and looked Draco in the eye.

"My clothes?"

Draco anxiously clutched his wand. This was it — if he let Potter go, the veela would never return. Draco had blown it all. Even the Wednesday midair fucks. It would have been nice to have Potter just to himself every day, but now that that seemed impossible, Draco wanted the Wednesdays back.

A desperate plan formed in his head. He was almost positive that he was right in thinking that Potter wanted more as well, but was just too scared to admit it.

"Come on. Let me show you something first." Draco extended his hand toward Potter.

Potter looked at the proffered hand and frowned. "More chains?"

"I do have more. Not so shiny or with a self-locking mechanism, but well, if you wish ..." Draco grinned, but anger returned to Potter's eyes so Draco quickly schooled his features into a serious expression. "No, not chains. Just come on. It will take a minute."

Glaring suspiciously, Potter came closer and took Draco's hand, wincing as his wings scraped the doorway.

It was only then that Draco truly appreciated how very large Potter was. The wings were enormous, and they seemed to take up half the room. Trying not to let Potter's intimidating presence bother him, Draco gripped the veela's warm hand, guiding him towards the bed.

Potter followed, looking at Draco in disbelief as Draco lay down on the sheets, and pulled on Potter's hand, inviting him to lie down on top of him.

"You said it would take a minute," Potter said, clearly confused.

"You'll decide on that. It will take me a minute to show you something. Lie down."

Judging by the dubious expression on Potter's face, Draco was sure that Potter would refuse. But apparently Potter's curiosity won. Slowly and awkwardly, he lowered his body beside Draco's.

Draco pulled him closer so that Potter's hands fell on either side of Draco's chest.

"I'll suffocate you," Potter said quietly, looking mortified.

It was true, really. Draco found himself trapped beneath a huge feathered tent that loomed over him, threatening to block out the air supply. Potter's green eyes shone worriedly above him.

"You won't," Draco said, not really believing his words. But Potter believed him apparently, because he carefully lowered his upper-body weight onto Draco's chest, not removing his gaze from Draco's face as he did so.

Cautiously, Draco reached out and encircled Potter's waist, burying his hands beneath the wings and pressing Potter closer, telling himself that breathing was overrated.

Finally having Potter positioned almost comfortably on top of him, Draco murmured, "Can you sleep like this? I'll hold you tight, and I won't let you move and hurt your wings."

Potter didn't say a word he just continued to stare at Draco, candlelight reflecting in his eyes and on his face. "I'm heavy," he proclaimed eventually.

"I can take it," Draco assured. He could. Really. Breathing be damned!

Potter made no move, showing no intention of either lowering his head to sleep or standing up and walking away. Draco lifted his head with some difficulty and pressed a soft kiss on Potter's lips. Mercifully, Potter responded, pressing Draco back down on the pillow and deepening the kiss. Draco sighed contentedly, rubbing soothing circles on the small of Potter's back.

Potter moved his mouth away and pressed his forehead to Draco's, staring into his eyes and breathing heavily.

"Draco. You're — it's not fair to you. You don't have to deal with this."

Draco licked his lips, savouring the sweet taste that lingered on them. "I expect compensation, of course," he said seriously. "I'll deal with your problems if you'll deal with mine. I have loads of problems, to be honest. You're the one that might end up wanting to run away."

"I doubt that," Potter murmured.

"Stick around and find out."

Smiling just a little, looking almost hopeful, Potter bit his lip, closed his eyes, and then after another chaste kiss moved downwards, lowering his head in the crook of Draco's neck.

His face breaking into a happy smile, Draco carefully extracted one hand from beneath Potter's wings and placed it on Potter's head, at the same time pressing the warm body closer with his other hand.

He ran his fingers through the dark hair, caressing soothingly, and, after awhile, Potter relaxed. Soon, the veela's breathing deepened, indicating that he was asleep. Draco did not stop his gentle ministrations, continuing to rub Potter's back and his head, determined not to fall asleep himself.

After a long time, Potter's wings twitched, and then shuddered as they stretched wide. Slowly, the black feathers dissolved into a glimmering mass that swirled above them for a moment and then shot down, disappearing into Potter's back.

Draco took a gulp of air, amazed by the sudden free space around him. His own room looked quite big to him now.

He looked down at the head of the sleeping man in his arms, noting how much smaller Potter looked without his wings, how very ordinary. Kissing the top of Potter's head, Draco smiled, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction run through him.

They still had matters to resolve, and, of course, Potter would have to learn how to control this. Losing the wings in his sleep was progress, but Draco doubted that this was over. No, this was just a tentative beginning. However, feeling light-headed with happiness and excitement, Draco allowed himself to hope that he had managed to catch this bird after all. And maybe, he would actually be allowed to keep it.

Fin