Never Again, Again

Kelsey Potter

Story Summary:
The last time. I swear to Merlin this is the last time...tonight I’ve got to say it, got to tell the truth. We can't keep doing this.

Chapter Summary:
The last time. I swear to Merlin this is the last time...tonight I’ve got to say it, got to tell the truth. We can't keep doing this.
Posted:
05/01/2008
Hits:
251


The last time. I swear to Merlin this is the last time. The man slipped silently out of the back door of his mansion and retreated to a dense forest behind the grounds. He didn't need to leave his house, as his wife, like him, was a pureblood--quite properly too--but he didn't want her to know he was leaving. She was sleeping, having turned in early, aided by a simple Sleeping Potion slipped into her evening wine--odourless, tasteless, and sending her to sleep almost immediately. His daughter, barely two years old, had gone to sleep much earlier in the evening. His son was already at Hogwarts.

Once he was safely out of sight of the house, he took a deep breath and turned once on the spot, disappearing with a quiet, dignified pop. He reappeared in another thicket and emerged from it to find a small hunting chalet. Rarely was it used for actual hunting--or what he told his wife was actual hunting, but in reality was exactly the same thing he was using it for tonight.

As he crossed the grounds, he thought firmly to himself, Tonight I've got to say it, got to tell the truth. This has to be the last time.

His resolve was strong.

Just like it always was.

Just like it had been the last six hundred times he had come up this path, sneaked away from his wife to his hunting chalet. It was like a drug--he couldn't quit--couldn't stay away--couldn't even manage to keep his resolve in the face of his addiction.

And if he was truly honest with himself, he didn't want to.

Quietly, carefully, he unlocked the back door of his chalet, to which only two people had a key. He stepped into the room, locked the door carefully behind him, then stepped quietly down the hall to the bedroom. The chalet was isolated, in the middle of the country, no neighbours around for hundreds of kilometres, but this was part of the game, part of the "hunt" the chalet had been designed for.

He opened the door to the bedroom, startling the occupant slightly. "It's me."

"I didn't even hear you." His lover stretched out a hand towards him, speaking his name low and soft, like a caress. "Draco."

Draco smiled warmly, feeling his resolve slip away, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

About an hour later they lay together on the bed, Draco absently tangling his fingers in his lover's flaxen hair. "How's your family?" he asked finally.

"Huh?" His lover shook off a slight stupor. "Oh, they're fine. Just fine. Although Mother's starting to wonder where I keep going...how's your family?"

"They're doing all right." Draco paused. "Scorpius left for Hogwarts yesterday."

"September already? How time does fly. Remember the night we met on the train?"

"I do." Draco rolled over and smiled. "We would have been wonderful friends if it hadn't been for the very minor point of your father, and your eventual Sorting into Gryffindor."

"Or your father, and your eventual Sorting into Slytherin."

"Very true. You know, I still don't know if I left that day because of your father or mine."

"And that night we met again...what was it, second year? After the Duelling Club?"

"That's right. I was so relieved you hadn't been attacked," Draco confessed in a low voice.

"I still don't believe Dean never suspected a thing."

"I still don't believe Dean didn't love you like that. I was so sure he did before he started dating that Weasley girl."

"That doesn't mean he didn't love me."

"But he dated three other girls, and he finally married one..."

"So did you. That doesn't mean we don't love each other." A brief pause. "Does it?"

"Of course not." Draco caught his lover's lips briefly, but passionately, then leaned back and smiled. "You know, Seamus, I think I've loved you from the beginning."

Seamus caressed Draco's chest lightly. "I think I have, too," he said honestly. "Even if you were a pompous jerk sometimes, I loved you for it."

Draco kissed Seamus deeply, his tongue probing his lover's mouth. After a moment, he had rolled Seamus onto his back and was straddling him, stroking him in sensitive places only he knew about. Seamus moaned with delight and desire, and then Draco was inside him.

And he never did say to Seamus that it had to end.