“Let me tell you about Lyra,” Draco said, in the quiet moments after they’d rescued the prisoners, when they’d made their camp and set up their watches and still no one was quite willing to separate and take to sleep. At least none of the prisoners, and Draco had found Ryder, had invited him to his tent.
Ryder leaned against Draco and ran his hand through his hair. “I would like that,” he said. “More than I can say.”
“She was the best thing I ever knew,” Draco said.
Ryder smiled at him, a complicated expression that was tinged with sadness and understanding. “I saw her.” With his memories restored he knew why he’d found her so magnificent, but he’d always felt it down to his bones. He hadn’t known that she was connected to Draco, but it also made some sense. “Tell me everything, my little dragon,” Ryder said, and they stayed awake for many more hours, Ryder asking after everything he could think of, to enhance the memory he had of Lyra.
Eventually Draco and Ryder did drift off to sleep, slumped against each other and drifting sentence by sentence closer to relaxation.
—
Back in Irkalla, on the road to Emorr, there was an urgency to their steps, to the way they moved during the day. There was an urgency too, to the nights, to the way everyone scrambled to pitch their tents and get out of the cold.
Ryder slipped into Draco’s tent with the familiarity of habit, but this time he didn’t ask about Lyra, or Harry, or Draco’s home. This time Ryder drew Draco down onto the bedroll with him.
“You deserve a chance to relax,” Ryder said. “Just lay down.” Ryder ran his hands over Draco’s back until he eased the tension in him, and when Draco drifted off to sleep Ryder settled down next to him.
—
“We’re going out,” Ryder said, one night.
Draco stared at him, uncomprehending. They were in the middle of nowhere, and there was no where to go.
“I saw a cave, in our travels today.”
A moment longer, and then Draco sprang to his feet, was grabbing Ryder’s hand and pulling him out of the tent, urging them back towards the pass.
When they freed the servitor, it was Draco who cradled him, who nurtured him with his magic. It was Ryder who wrapped Draco’s wounds, and who kissed Draco fierce and bright with the rush of joy, of success.
—
The new servitor curled on the bed in the form of a small dragon, fast asleep, while Ryder and Draco watched with the besotted expression of new parents. They couldn’t say who kissed whom first, just that all of a sudden Ryder and Draco were tangled together, Draco’s hand in Ryder’s hair holding him while Draco swept his tongue into Ryder’s mouth.
“Let me,” Ryder said, kissing Draco again, hands pulling at his clothing.
“No,” Draco said. “I will.”
Draco peeled Ryder’s clothing back, and then sunk to his knees, his lips trailing down Ryder’s stomach.
Ryder combed his fingers through Draco’s hair, as Draco pressed his lips against the tip of Ryder’s cock. “Draco, gods, keep doing that.” It had been too long since Ryder had had any sort of intimacy, and this had been a long time in coming.
Draco grinned up at him, then parted his lips and started to slide over Ryder. He kept going until Ryder’s gasps echoed through the tent and until Ryder’s legs grew shaky, and then Draco held him in place and swallowed the taste of Ryder’s satisfaction.
Ryder licked the taste of himself from Draco’s mouth while his hand pumped the other man. Both of them knew that they’d be more comfortable in the bed, and yet the idea of disturbing their new charge wasn’t even the sort of thing they’d speak of, as they found new pleasure in each other.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Draco/Ryder, good end, dragons
Ryder leaned against Draco and ran his hand through his hair. “I would like that,” he said. “More than I can say.”
“She was the best thing I ever knew,” Draco said.
Ryder smiled at him, a complicated expression that was tinged with sadness and understanding. “I saw her.” With his memories restored he knew why he’d found her so magnificent, but he’d always felt it down to his bones. He hadn’t known that she was connected to Draco, but it also made some sense. “Tell me everything, my little dragon,” Ryder said, and they stayed awake for many more hours, Ryder asking after everything he could think of, to enhance the memory he had of Lyra.
Eventually Draco and Ryder did drift off to sleep, slumped against each other and drifting sentence by sentence closer to relaxation.
—
Back in Irkalla, on the road to Emorr, there was an urgency to their steps, to the way they moved during the day. There was an urgency too, to the nights, to the way everyone scrambled to pitch their tents and get out of the cold.
Ryder slipped into Draco’s tent with the familiarity of habit, but this time he didn’t ask about Lyra, or Harry, or Draco’s home. This time Ryder drew Draco down onto the bedroll with him.
“You deserve a chance to relax,” Ryder said. “Just lay down.” Ryder ran his hands over Draco’s back until he eased the tension in him, and when Draco drifted off to sleep Ryder settled down next to him.
—
“We’re going out,” Ryder said, one night.
Draco stared at him, uncomprehending. They were in the middle of nowhere, and there was no where to go.
“I saw a cave, in our travels today.”
A moment longer, and then Draco sprang to his feet, was grabbing Ryder’s hand and pulling him out of the tent, urging them back towards the pass.
When they freed the servitor, it was Draco who cradled him, who nurtured him with his magic. It was Ryder who wrapped Draco’s wounds, and who kissed Draco fierce and bright with the rush of joy, of success.
—
The new servitor curled on the bed in the form of a small dragon, fast asleep, while Ryder and Draco watched with the besotted expression of new parents. They couldn’t say who kissed whom first, just that all of a sudden Ryder and Draco were tangled together, Draco’s hand in Ryder’s hair holding him while Draco swept his tongue into Ryder’s mouth.
“Let me,” Ryder said, kissing Draco again, hands pulling at his clothing.
“No,” Draco said. “I will.”
Draco peeled Ryder’s clothing back, and then sunk to his knees, his lips trailing down Ryder’s stomach.
Ryder combed his fingers through Draco’s hair, as Draco pressed his lips against the tip of Ryder’s cock. “Draco, gods, keep doing that.” It had been too long since Ryder had had any sort of intimacy, and this had been a long time in coming.
Draco grinned up at him, then parted his lips and started to slide over Ryder. He kept going until Ryder’s gasps echoed through the tent and until Ryder’s legs grew shaky, and then Draco held him in place and swallowed the taste of Ryder’s satisfaction.
Ryder licked the taste of himself from Draco’s mouth while his hand pumped the other man. Both of them knew that they’d be more comfortable in the bed, and yet the idea of disturbing their new charge wasn’t even the sort of thing they’d speak of, as they found new pleasure in each other.