“Soundsintriguing.”
Draotriedtofightdowntheheathefeltonhisheeks.WasPotter…Washeflirtingwithhim?No,itouldn’tbe.
“Ithinkwe’devenmakeabettermaththanOliverandIdid,”Potterontinued.Draoalmosthoked.“OliverandI,wenevertalkedlikethis.Sometimes,itfeltlikeitwasjustaboutsex.Forhim,atleast.”
Thistime,Draohokedforrealandstartedtobeathishestrepeatedlywithhisfist.Heputdownhisgssandleanedhisheadagainstthesofa.HowheandPotterhadendedupsittingonthefloorwasaompletemystery.AswaswhytheyhadstartedtalkingaboutPotter’sretionships.Itwasn’tlikeDraohadaskedhimaboutit.Orhadhe?Hereallyouldn’tremember.
“Whatwashelike?”Draomurmured,furrowinghisbrowsathownumbhislipsfelt.
“Inbed?”Potterasked,ughing.
“Yeah.”No,wait,that’snotwhathehadwantedtosay.
“Well,thefewtimesweatuallydiditinabed—”Oh,forMerlin’ssake!“—werequitenie.”
Nie?Wasthatodeforawful?
“Heouldbe…gentleifhewantedto.Mostofthetime,hewasprettyaggressive,though.Goodaggressive,”headdedwhenDraoopenedhismouth.
“Howisaggressivegood?”heasked.Hehadwantedittosounddisapproving;instead,hesoundedintrigued.
Potterstudiedhisgss,asmallsmilefonhislips.“Hewasalwayssoimpatient.Herippedadozenofmyjumpersandnearlyallofmytrousers.”Hehukled.“Andhealwaysleftlovebitesallovermybody.”
Draogulped.
“He’dalsograbmyhairwhenhefukedmefrombehind.”
SweetSazar!TheimagesinDrao’smindwerenothelping.
“Onetime,weweredoingitintheshowerandIneededtogotoStMungo’s,beauseIdisloatedmyshoulder.”
Draoinwardlygroaned.ThethoughtofPotter,wet,pushedagainstthetiles,moaningandbeggingformore…
“Thatsoundshorrible,”Draosaid,hastily,bendinghiskneestohidethesuddenbulgeinhistrousers.Hequiklyemptiedhisgss,thefirewhiskeyburninghisthroat.“Isthathowyoulikeit?”heblurted.
“Youmeanbeingrough?Ormetakingaokupmyarse?”Potterughed.Mesmerisedbythesound,Draosimplynodded.ThatmadePotterughevenmore.“Sure,Ilikeitroughsometimes.Bothreallydependonthesituation,though.”HisfaeturnedmoreseriouswhenhiseyesfoundDrao’s.“OrthepersonI’mwith.”
OverwhelmedwasakindwaytodesribehowthosewordsmadeDraofeel.Heouldn’tbreathe,ouldn’tthink.Withoutknowingwhathewasdoing,heinhedlosertoPotter,untiltheirshouldersweretouhing.Bad,verybadidea.
Potter’slipspartedandheletoutashakybreath.Hisgazewasintense.Toointense.Andyet,Draoouldn’tlookaway.Heatwasoilinginthepitofhisstomah,makinghimsquirm.ItonlygotworsewhenPotterpressedhisshouldermorefirmlyagainstDrao’s.Ohno.Theyweredrunk.Surely,Potterhadnoideawhathewasdoing.Ifhedid,hewouldn’tbesittingthislosetoDrao,staring—Sazar’sballs!—staringathismouth.AllthattalkabouthavingsexwithWoodhadprobablyturnedhimonenoughtoshutdownhisbrain.Draoneededtothinkofsomething.Now.