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Draco Malfoy thought he was a rebel.
Sirius had a similar phase, though he was a few years older than Draco was now when he started sneaking out of his ancestral home. Unlike Draco, he was actually meeting up with boys his age. Slipping in through their bedroom windows, loitering in the abandoned potions room, or rough-housing on an empty Quidditch pitch. Not alone in the woods with his estranged cousin over double his age. Tah-may-to, Tah-mah-to.
Padfoot had been curled up in a small clearing of forest, just outside the borders of the Malfoy Manor, when Draco found him again. The kid was smiling widely, wrapped up tightly in his winter robes despite it only being August. Damn, he'd have to leave to go to school soon. The thought almost upset Sirius.
"Hiya." He was all too giddy for Sirius's liking. He did his best to raise a brow, though he wasn't sure what emotion Padfoot was conveying. Draco seemed to find it easier to talk to Pads. He'd never asked outright for Sirius to transform (Can you imagine? Hey Sirius, I much prefer a dog to you so can you get?) but he could tell that Draco was still tense around him. Maybe it was his prison-picked appearance. Sunken in eyes, black teeth, boney and scruffy. That kind of look was more suited for a Grim, anyway. Sirius had started to cut the formalities and take Padfoots form prior their playdates.
"Look," Draco knelt down on the grass and pulled out a tube of leather cloth, unrolling it on the grass to show a line of dark black sticks. Great. The kid knew he wasn't actually a dog, right?
As if Draco heard his thoughts, he shooed his snout away, "Not for fetching. Mutt. You chew on them and they make you feel strange. Supposedly. They're my dads."
Pads was a large dog, even now, Pads had about 2 heads of height over the kids hunched over form. He peered over Draco's shoulder, sniffing at the sticks.
Oh. Yeah. These were not normal.
The aroma was nostalgic, almost. It reminded him of long, sweaty nights in the Gryffindor dorms, too much skin and muscle. They had smoked that stuff constantly back then with a few other herbs. Sirius had never had more than a fingertip of the powder in his possession at a time, and it hadn't smelled nearly this pungent.
This wasn't some common stimulant to get you high. Sirius grinned to himself, Lucius must host some wild orgies to need the pure wood in his possession. Even the powder was pretty difficult for Sirius to get his hands on as a teen, and he was very persuasive. If he had to guess, Lucius would probably use one stick, hell, half a stick, burn it in a fireplace in the dungeons. Go for 3 nights straight, probably. Mmm... definitely not just a nice weekend with the wife... this kind of potency was meant to be used on a much larger scale. What kind of leather bindings and metal contraptions Lucius liked to use, Sirius had a few guesses.
Maybe it was Padfoots snout, but the rich vapors the bark was emitting felt suffocating. Like a thick tar-liquid was taking residence in the bottom of his lungs. A rough whine vibrated out of Pads long throat that Sirius didn't intend on letting out and Draco huffed, amused.
"Good find, yeah?"
Yeah, something like that.
"Mmmhhm..." Draco broke off into a light chuckle, threading his fingers through Pads scruff, pulling out the thin tangles along his throat. He had a very cute smile. The way his snaggletooth caught on his lip when he was really excited about something. He hoped Lucius would never charm his new adult teeth straight.
Draco's thin fingers found one of the sticks, bringing it up between Pads muzzle and his pointy nose, languidly waving it back and forth. As much as Sirius liked the thought of Draco overdosing on this shit, there is a twinge of paternal madness that swells inside of him, watching the boy. He's only Harry's age, after all.
Sirius allows himself to take his own form again, his chin is hooked over Draco's shoulder and he can feel Draco jolt when he starts talking,
"I only tell you this because I don't want to be blamed for your possible demise, though, how fun. Despite all your blood leaking out your nose and mouth I'm sure your peppercorn heart would try it's best to redirect it to your prick till your last breath. To the point though, that's quite a large dosage."
Draco rolls his eyes, "I know you don't care."
"About your prick exploding? Not particularly. We could spell that wound into a makeshift cunt, then maybe this would be fun for once. No, I'm more worried about your daddy finding your body in the woods covered in my seed and dog hair."
Draco shivers under his chin, and Sirius swears he can feel his hips jerk back against him a little, "Yeah?"
The kid is crazy.
"Mhm, what would daddy think, his dead little boy with his arse leaking seed? Wouldn't have to be just mine. Could let some other animals here have their way with you. Maybe we could find a Hippogriff. Under the influence of that, you'd be begging for it."
"You," Draco swallows and Sirius can hear the saliva rush down his throat, his little Adams apple bobbing beside his cheek, "You know I wouldn't mind... sober."
"Mmhm... You always had such an affinity for animals. I would know. You always know just how to... rile them up."
Sirius plucks the stick from Draco's loose grip, sliding it along the side of his tongue. He closes his eyes in anticipation but already it's hot under his suit. He can feel himself getting woozy in that same way he used to love as a teen. Head heavy, hands not quite closing around Draco's narrow shoulders as he finds balance. Suddenly, he finds himself wondering why he felt any need for caution to begin with.
"You should..." He pinches his eyes shut, a pleasant wave of heat rolling through him as he leans forward onto Draco's back, "I think," He hiccups, "I think chewin' on half of one is good fer you..."
His hand can't close around the stick anymore and it drops down beside Draco's knees. He groans, letting his weight fall back onto Draco, humping against the kids back. His erection hurts as it swells against his dress pants, only further crushed as he pushes himself into Draco's spine.
Draco grabs the stick, still damp from Sirius's saliva and brings it to his lips, shivering when Sirius mouths at the side of his neck, dragging his teeth along his skin.
With one perfect bite, the stick between his molars, snapping it in half, he chews down on it. The taste is bitter, acrid, but before he can grimace his body is already flaring. Heat gushes through his chest, down his arms, his thighs, pooling mercilessly in his cock. Like all the blood in his body was draining, condensing into a single point right in his dick. He jerks forward with a broken gasp, legs twitching, saliva thickening under his tongue. His trousers feel unbearable, tight and wet, his prick swelling too quickly for him to breathe properly.
“F–fuck,” he whines, and it’s humiliating because he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. Sirius hasn’t even touched him properly, but he's already letting out these god awful high pitched wheezes, rutting his hips into the air just to feel the friction against his fly because he feels desperate. Every drag of air scorches down his throat. Every brush of Sirius’s teeth at his neck has his body shuddering.
Draco tries to undo the buttons at the collar of his robe but his hands shake and his forehead thuds against the ground as he falls forward. He groans, not so much because of the pain but because it feels like his brain is melting and dripping out of his ears.
His cheek is soaked with saliva and dirt before he notices it's all coming from him, drooling like some common mutt but he can't stop it, the thick saliva running down his face and he can't swallow it down.
Sirius humps against his arse properly now, his clothed erection pressing so good against him, and Draco lets out a broken, humiliating sob. His thighs twitch and his hips jerk without rhythm, rutting against nothing. He feels wetness spreading inside his trousers and for a sick second he doesn’t know if it’s precome or piss. Maybe both.
“N–no—no, I—fuck—” he babbles, but the words die in a high, needy whine as Sirius’s teeth catch his neck again. Every scrape of fabric across his cock feels like being skinned alive, raw and unbearable. His whole body is one nerve-ending, pulsing heat, and still it isn’t enough. He pushes back harder, throat raw from panting, dribble sliding freely from his slack mouth.
Sirius’s hips slap into him roughly, his erection hitting Draco right where his testicles have swelled and trapped themselves in his tight boxer briefs, and Draco breaks with a scream as his prick jerks again, spilling hot against his stomach. His feet kick weakly in the dirt, nails digging into the soil and his thighs tremble and twitch like he’s being electrocuted.
“Already? Haven’t even touched you yet,” Sirius laughs, and Draco whimpers, a thin sound cracking in his throat. His cock jumps helplessly as Sirius cups the soaked crotch of his trousers, palm spreading the wet through fabric until Draco sobs, rutting down into the heat like an animal.
“Please—please—please—” the word tumbles out of him without thought, lips slack, drool running into the soil, and he doesn't even know what he's begging for. His hands can’t grip, just flail and scrabble as Sirius tears open the seams of his trousers. The cold air hits the flushed, sweaty skin along the small of his back and his arse, and he sobs harder, shame burning hotter than the drug. His swollen prick and testicles are painfully caught between the tight folds of his half-pushed-down trousers. He wants to beg for any kind of touch, but all that comes out is a keening whine as he pushes his arse back, desperate for more.
Sirius lines up against him and barely nudges forward before Draco is already shoving himself back, the stretch burning white-hot. His vision blurs with black spots, but his body doesn’t care, greedy and reckless, forcing Sirius deeper.
The sound that rips out of him is humiliating—high, raw, like he’s being torn open. He is being torn open. He can feel it, burning as the thickest part of Sirius's dick drives into him. His cock jerks against his tight trousers spurting weakly again, and he doesn’t even know if it’s a second orgasm or the same one dragging on.
Sirius grips his hips hard, still laughing low. A glob of saliva lands in Draco's hair and he's thankful for how cool it feels when it slides down his neck “Merlin, you’re wet," Sirius groans, "Didn’t—Didn't even touch yer prick and yer slick as a cunt.”
Draco sobs, pushing back harder, the sharp stretch turning into a molten ache that can’t be soothed. His voice is gone, all that spills out of him are desperate whines, animal noises, babbled pleas for Sirius not to stop, not to pull out.
Sirius thrusts deeper, and Draco’s whole body bows. The stretch feels like it’s tearing him apart, and yet his body shoves back like it’s not enough. He claws uselessly at the soil, nails filling with dirt, cheek dragging wet through the mud.
“Look a' you,” Sirius's voice is slurring now, fingers digging into Draco's protruding pelvis. “Can’teven hold yerself up. Little bitch...”
Draco’s answer is a wrecked, garbled exhale, his cock spurting weakly again into his ruined trousers. His body trembles, twitching for more even as black spots eat away his vision. It feels so good. Too good. He'd never be able to have sex sober ever again.
"Ohh, daddy, m—more..." and Draco doesn't even realize what he's moaned before Sirius is grinning.
"Daddy?” Sirius's hips drive forward and his hand attempting to press against Draco's temple, only to slip from the obscene amount of sweat coating Draco head to toe. His fist, roughly, grips Draco's fringe, slamming his head down into the dirt.
"Fuckin' Figures. Bet you’ve been spreading your legs since you were in nappies, yeah?"
Draco lets out a strangled sob, trying to squirm out of his grip, but Sirius pulls at his white roots, forcing his cheek to smear against the mud-dribble mixture beneath them.
"Like that, don't you?" Sirius lets out a choked gurgle, his knuckles pressing into Draco's temple, "Used to it, yeah? Daddy and his big dick in yer mouth before you were even off yer mums tit."
Draco moans, low and needy, “He…he only—only sometimes—” before clapping a hand over his mouth and Sirius barks out a laugh, his breath hot against Draco's neck.
"Sometimes? Who plugged yer cunt durin' ministry meetings then? Daddy's friends?" and Draco keens, his hips jerking to rut against the earth.
"No wonder. Too used for their blood by your tenth birthday so you came running to desperate cousin Sirius with yer kickers in a bunch, huh?"
Draco's hand scrambles to find his erection, pressing his palm against the cooled, damp front of his trousers, shivering at the pressure.
"Bet they let anyone have their way with you.” Sirius drives into him, quicker, his own voice getting higher, breathier in his throat, "The house-elves, the dogs, the horses," and with the way Sirius is holding his head down with his bodyweight, Draco's vision goes blank, blinking roughly in an attempt to bat out the sweat and tears.
"Stop—please—don't say—" and Draco's words disintegrate into a moan as Sirius's hips paused against him. Draco clenched around him tightly, his body pushing back and forth for any kind of friction.
"Ahh, that's it," Sirius groans low in Draco's ear, "Beg me to stop while your used little cunt begs for more, yeah? Want me out or do you want me deeper like how daddy did it?"
Draco's breaths coming in shallowly, whistling like he's hyperventilating.
"Don' don't leave me da—" He hiccups, "Daddyyy" and Sirius only sneers. “Don’t worry, pup. You'll still have the animals in the forest when I'm done with you."
Draco claws at the dirt, groaning as another wave of heat overtook him.
"I could leave you here. Tie your hands behind your back, knees to your shoulders and let the animals come to mount you whenever they please." and Draco is cumming dry in his pants, hands spasming into the ground.
"Oh fuck—Daddy—" is all Draco can manage to get out before his throat is closing up and his chest is constricting.
Draco’s arms gave out beneath him, his ribs rattling with panicked sobs as Sirius drove deep one last time. A low groan escaping his throat as he came, spurting in thick bursts of seed into the kid in time with his shallow thrusts. Draco's too far gone to register it properly, his breath scraping thin in his chest.
Sirius stays there until he's flaccid, watching Draco thrust back weakly, his puffed rim fluttering over his softening penis, “Look at you... still going...” He trails a finger down Draco’s spine, making the boy flinch.
Draco moans, voice broken, barely able to gasp out words. “I... I can’t... stop—”
Sirius pulls out, fisting a hand into his hair to wrench his head back just enough to shove the forgotten half of the stick between his teeth. Draco gags weakly around it, chest heaving, eyes wild and wet.
“Mm. Perfect,” Sirius mutters, dragging his wand lazily across the boy’s pert arse. A muttered charm, and Draco’s trembling body stiffens, frozen on his knees with his bum high in the air, mouth stretched obscenely around the bark.
Sirius stands, tucking himself into his trousers, and lets out a bark of laughter at the sight. “Just like Daddy would've wanted, isn't that right, pup? Don't worry, I'll tell him where we had our little playdate. He'll pick you up... In a few days...”
He leaves Draco there in the clearing, drooling around the wood, weakly spurting into his trousers, again.