Birthday fic for Tboy

[icarus]

Boy. Do I feel out of shape writing-wise. tboy, this is for you. I didn't do that Percy/Draco from 'Beg Me For It,' but this came up instead. Yes, wildernessguru helped me with some... research.

Forgive me, it is a completely unbeta'd rough draft. Now beta'd. Thank you, Adred.



Zen Taxi
by Icarus



Lights flashed in a freeze-frame as loud music pounded and made the tumblers buzz on the bar. He pushed his glasses up his nose, an elbow wet from something he'd leaned on, and glanced around at the writhing, shadowy figures caught in sharp light. Percy bobbed his head somewhat in time with the music -- he was not much of a dancer -- as he bumped his way across the room with mumbled apologies.

It was hard to keep track of anyone in the crush. But fortunately, white blond hair glowed like a will-o'the-wisp.

Young Malfoy bounced and gyrated wildly, his surcoat spun and those tight trousers were... my, Percy's eyebrows raised as he climbed a level and settled into a discreet corner table to watch. If one had to work nights, it was nice that the scenery was at least appealing. Draco had huddled with a potions dealer earlier, and was less graceful now than usual. From his stumbling he had definitely taken something.

Percy shook his head and took a little sip of his drink. Daddy certainly won't be happy with you when he hears of this.

Draco staggered off the dance floor, knocking into a table. Several people squealed, grabbed their glasses and Percy sat up as a young man stood, his lips moving angrily, though what he said melted into the music. But his companion grabbed the man's arm, his manner urgent as he pulled him back.

Good. They knew who Draco was. There would be no trouble tonight.

Draco plowed several more tables before dangling off the railing between the one level of the bar and the next. Then he heaved himself forward a few steps towards the upper corner of the bar...

Percy drew back in the shadows as Draco looked in his direction. But he kept moving forward, his eyes bleary but fixated on Percy's table.

Oh, hell.

Percy pretended to glance around, and then stood and turned his back to Malfoy, picking up his coat as if calling it a night. With any luck, he was aimed towards someone else.

"'Lo..."

Percy closed his eyes at the familiar slurred voice behind him. Shit. He turned casually and gave Draco a disdainful look up and down, the brush off. Was there anyone he didn't hit on? "I beg your pardon. Do I know you?"

Draco squinted at him. "Y'wha -? You're fuckin' watching me."

"I assure you, I've no idea what you mean. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Percy made to leave.

Draco's lurched into Percy. "Buy me a drink."

Well, Draco could pronounce that at least. But it was not within the terms of his agreement with Lucius -- he was not even to be spotted. Moving away from home had cost more than Percy's meagre salary could manage on its own.

"Young man, I don't -"

"Buy me a drink. Don' my father pay you enough for that?"

Oh…

Percy opened his mouth and shut it, his clever answer died on his lips at Draco's all-too-sharp-eyed stare, nowhere near as drunk as he'd seemed -- the stumbling had to have been from some potion. Blue eyes bore into him. And there just wasn't any point, was there? He quietly kissed his flat goodbye as he sank to his chair.

"All right. But don't you think you've had enough?"

Draco dragged over another chair with a scraping squeak that made Percy wince, and slumped into it. "I'll say when it's enough, and not my father."

"I'm not your father."

"Y'might as well be," Draco muttered. He picked up Percy's drink and downed it in a swallow. Percy didn't care. He’d only bought it to have something to do with his hands.

The hollow sound of another song throbbed for the tattered crowd, a typical Wednesday night. And it was not his sort of place. It would be nice to have his nights free again, he supposed. Perhaps he could move in with some of the chaps at the office -? But he had told everyone about his flat; still, maybe if he could find another night-project… oh, this was a fiasco.

"He'll fire you, you know that?" Draco's voice interrupted his spinning plans.

"Oh really?" Percy's voice was edged with sarcasm. He could advertise for a lodger perhaps….

"But he doesn't have to." Draco toyed with the glass, tipping the beveled edge along table. Click, click. "Fire you, I mean."

If he had enough saved to carry him through next month's rent it wouldn't take too many spells to put in a loft -- "I beg your pardon?"

"He doesn't need to know." He glanced up meaningfully.

"I'm not going to lie for you, Mister Malfoy." Saving his flat was one thing, but there were principles at stake here. Keeping an eye on young Draco was no different than, say, watching his little brothers. If somewhat more entertaining.

"Call me Draco. And you won't have to lie," Draco said, "Just, hmmm, edit. A little."

"What sort of editing?"

"I tell you what to leave in, to keep my father happy, and then… I'll have a little privacy."

He tipped the empty glass to his lips, and then frowned at it petulantly when nothing came out.

Pathetic.

Percy didn't deign to dignify this 'plan' with an answer. But he couldn't countenance leaving Draco here in this state either. "Come on. I'll take you home, all right?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm not Flooing anywhere," he blinked slowly, "not 'less you want to wear my lunch. B'sides, the party's just begun." He waved at the bar. It was two am and the place was emptying.

"We'll take Muggle motorpelation." He had a feeling Draco might enjoy slumming in Muggle primitivism. He'd done it once. Well. Seen it done. It was just like calling the Knight Bus.

"Oh, really?" he brightened, and took the bait, predictably; all the young pure-bloods loved Muggle things. "You mean a taxi?"

"You've heard of them?" Percy was mildly surprised.

"I took a taxi in Venice once, but it turned out to be just a boat and a pole. The man wouldn't go any faster when I told him to."

"Well, I 'taxi' all the time." It was just a little white lie; there was something about Malfoys that made one want to impress them. But Draco snorted doubtfully. "What -? You don't believe me?"

Draco didn't answer but pawed at the chair with a puzzled expression, then staggered as he stood. "Damn it… where's my -?"

"Your coat's over where you put the young lady's -- that girl you came in with?" he said to Draco's blank look. "Someone rifled through her jacket but wisely left yours alone." He couldn't wait to be out of there. They threaded and bumped through scattered chairs, and Percy picked up the coat and draped it over his arm. "You do need looking after, don't you?"

Draco wrinkled his nose and looked Percy up and down. "Are you always such an arrogant prig?" He struggled shakily with a cigarette.

Percy huffed a sigh, reached over and held his hand steady. Malfoy gave him a quick, sharp little smile as he finally lit it and took a drag, "Did I come in with a girl?"

"Your 'lady' friend -- and I use the term loosely -- is long gone, or at least she went to the ladies room with a male 'companion' and they haven't returned. One can only assume what they're doing in there." Percy handed him the coat. It was long and soft.

"Then fuck her. Whoever she is." Draco drew the coat over his shoulder, and rumpled in it for the armhole and missed, his arm sweeping down the length.

Tsk. Percy held it for him, and said dryly, "That's the spirit."

~*~*~

Draco stared in fascination at the Muggle 'water-wipers' as he gingerly ducked into the motorcar. The wipers weren't very effective Percy noted, as he shut the door and walked around to the other side, shoes padding though the gentle rain. It seemed dangerous and he was tempted to put a water repulsion-spell on the window just for safety's sake, though there were at least six Ministry regulations against that. Inside the taxi smelled like wet cigarettes.

"One Malfoy Industries Lane, please." There was a set portkey from Lucius' Muggle holdings Draco could use.

"What? We can't go straight there together --" Draco squawked "-- he'll know! It'll ruin our deal."

"There's no deal. I haven't agreed to anything."

Draco rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and then squinted at Percy. "Oh. Haven't I asked yet? I was getting to that bit I think, but I'm drunk, so that complicates things." He peered over the seat to the driver and commanded the man like he was a house-elf, "Take us to Hogsmeade Station."

The grizzled Muggle looked confused, as well he might.

"Kinnear and Ashmeade. By the old Fox Theatre," Percy corrected.

"T'ain't open," the Muggle warned.

"That's all right. Where we're going is near there."

The driver gave him a 'whatever' look as he spun the wheel, and Draco jolted back as the motorcar jerked forward. He shot the Muggle an irritated look, then dismissed the driver as being of no import. He watched out the window, then sank to the seat with a sniff, clearly bored with the show already. True, it really wasn't much different from Dumbledore's horseless carriages, was it? The light of shopfronts whisked by in flashes across his face. His eyes looked dark, then clear, then dark again.

He finally spoke in a diffident tone, "So. How much does he pay you, Weasley?"

"That's none of your business."

"I could pay you more," Draco offered casually.

"I'm not for sale."

"But you were for my father," he pointed out. His eyebrows raised as if he'd scored a point.

"There were other considerations." The politics of which were also none of his business.

The motorcar paused at an intersection, waiting there for a long time, although there were no other cars about. Muggles were so strange. Both Percy and Draco peered at the driver, and Malfoy's eyes flashed with annoyance. Percy leaned forward for a word with their Muggle, when the man glanced up at a sudden green light and the motorcar trundled forward again. The wet pavement hissed under them.

Draco was quietly thoughtful for a moment. "My father's a tightwad. I'm sure I could double it. I mean, you had to be cheap: having a flaming redhead follow me is just stupid."

"I was discreet," Percy shot him an irritated look.

"Yeah, discreet. And in a place like that, you were the only one. Pretty poor work your first week on the job, Weasley."

Percy froze and felt his eyes widen. He quickly brought down his best poker face.

"I'll have to do better next time I imagine," he said carefully. In truth, it had been two months. He knew just when Draco caught him, too. Perhaps these things had a natural time limit anyway.

Draco gazed at him consideringly, an elbow leaned on the arm of the door. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll triple whatever he's paying -- but only if I get to see your reports first." He wagged a finger at Percy. "And that's my final offer."

Percy made a helpless gesture. "I'm sorry. There are moral considerations."

"Gryffindors," Draco snorted. "If you have such 'moral considerations' why are you spying on me in the first place?" The fabric of his coat whispered as he leaned back against the car door and studied Percy under half-lidded eyes. They rolled through a puddle that washed up the underside of the car. The strange sound of the wipers beat steadily.

Percy lifted his chin. He didn't owe him an answer.

Blond eyebrows raised. "You can't be bought then? Really?" Draco nodded as if to himself. "Not so bad after all, father. Some people buy loyalty; others have a knack for just finding it."

The wipers swiped, back, forth, like a heartbeat.

"I'm not loyal to him."

Draco sniffed doubtfully; but there was a hint of a smile on his face now as he slouched in the corner of the door and the seat. The coat spread around him in a black fall. His eyes narrowed.

"What does he pay you to do exactly?"

Percy licked his lips. There was no harm in telling him, as he was fired after all. It might even be reassuring. "Just to watch. Nothing more than that."

Draco's smile spread and turned lascivious. "To watch… what?"

Percy hid a slight cringe.

"Everything?" Draco was almost laughing.

Percy refused to answer, though he felt his face heat. He had never been quite sure, but Lucius had said he wanted a complete report and he was always thorough, possibly even hand-picked for his thoroughness.

But Draco eyed him carefully, tipping his head in idle curiosity as he read Percy's face. His eyes lit up and he snickered, "So you like to watch, eh? Oh, that's pretty sleazy, Weasley."

"And what you do isn't?!" And it wasn't sleazy, it was his job. He lost the battle with his blush however. That time was when he was caught, he was almost certain. Thup-thup, went the wipers.

Draco's tongue traced the inside of his very-white teeth revealed in a slight, fierce smile. So white. He lounged even further into the seat and huffed an amused sigh. "So. Moral considerations." He chuckled and his hands moved, and Percy heard the clink of a belt buckle.

"What are you -- what are you doing?"

"You like to watch," he smiled. There was the slow rasp of a zipper. Draco grinned evilly.

"What -?" Percy's heart raced. "Stop! You can't do that here!"

His white, manicured hands parted dark trousers, pushed them down and revealed a small, very hard cock, vivid white against the fabric. So smooth and silky-looking. Draco grasped himself with a firm stroke, his half-lidded eyes glimmered and didn't leave Percy’s face… Percy slowly shut his eyes with an inward moan.

"Call it a going away present."

"Dammit, Draco…" His jaw worked over something between 'god' and 'you'd better hurry, we're almost there!' but nothing came out but a little whimper.

Draco chuckled, eyes steady as he tipped his chin up, his lips parted. Percy glanced furtively at the driver and caught shocked eyes in the little mirror before the Muggle looked resolutely at the road. He was going to have a tale to tell. Shadows of street lamps flickered, flashing across along Percy's face as they swung over and past them. Draco's hand stroked, and he turned towards him slightly, eyes glittering as his chest rose and fell.

Percy stared.

The wipers beat, thub-thub, in time with his breath, and he couldn't see out the windows. They were fogged over.

Draco pressed his shoulders into the seat -- hard -- and breathed a little heavier, deeper, his hand a pale flash as he arched his hips a bit. He pulled his trousers down a little further, revealed glimmery curly blond hair. His other hand reached and cupped his balls and he bit his lip with a moan, massaging them luxuriously as he stroked.

That little sigh was himself, Percy realised distantly. The wet hiss of the tires mixed with the heave of their breathing. Percy watched under half-lidded eyes.

Draco flexed his chest and his eyes finally shut. A catch of a smothered gasp as his hand sped up, forcing it a little -- his chin tipped up -- and his hair slid from his face.

Beautiful….

His eyes squeezed shut, and he squashed a moan, his hand jerking fast now as he grunted louder this time and he came, his head rolling back, his mouth a little pink 'oh.' Light arched across his face. His hands were slick, shiney-wet and he melted against the seat, as boneless as Percy felt.

His lashes fluttered open. Beautiful.

Then Draco smirked at him. Percy realised he was slumped in the corner of the taxi. He swallowed.

The wipers beat, rhythmically. The hiss of pavement had fallen silent.

Draco made a small peremptory gesture with his free hand as he stroked slowly, milking the last of it. Which puzzled Percy, until he understood that, of course, he needed to clean up. "Oh," he said aloud, his voice cracked and hoarse. He fumbled in his breast-pocket -- no -- lifted up from the seat for his back pocket and -- ah.

He handed over his handkerchief, which Draco used stroke himself clean. Blue cotton on pale white… slowly moving up and down, his slightly purplish head peeking out over his thumb. Then it disappeared in the swipe of the handkerchief entirely. His curls were dark blond. Percy consciously closed his mouth. Draco's balls jiggled slightly, drawn up from the cold.

Was it cold in here? Percy was in a cold sweat.

His cock was revealed one last time as he wiped off, then Draco raised his hips and pulled his trousers up in a rustle of breath and fabric, and tucked himself away. Buttoned up. Handed Percy the handkerchief, who crumpled it in his hand. The cab smelled of him now; expensive cologne, sweat and alcohol. Draco opened the door and Percy finally noticed that they were there; they had stopped. Some time ago in fact. The driver drummed his fingers on the wheel, and glanced back in the mirror with the stony look of someone who wanted them gone but wouldn't risk the fare.

Draco stepped out, still staggering somewhat, and leaned on the door.

"Put that in your report to my father."

Percy simply blinked up at him, dumbfounded. Then Draco took a couple steps as if to leave, and glanced back at him with a bright smile.

"See you tomorrow night," he said, as he shut the door.

Percy put his hand to his forehead and sat there a long moment in numb shock. He almost even forgot to tell the driver where to go next.

As the motorcar pulled away from the curb, he quietly decided that perhaps an edited version of the night's events might be in order after all. And he realised that, yes, he was going to see Draco Malfoy the following night.

Someone had to look out for him. Of course.



Finis.

Comments

[essayel.livejournal.com]

Lovely story though the Americanisms threw me a time or two. (But in a fandom dominated by Americans Brit-picking is pretty pointless isn't it.)
I loved some of the description and the characterisation was spot on.
Thank you.

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I changed that five and dime thing. That's unusual even in the US. Hopefully that takes care of it. The new beta'd version is up, thanks to Adred (tell me what you think!).

Icarus

[essayel.livejournal.com]

Good beta. There's only one other Brit-picky thing I'd quibble at and that's 'intersection' where we would use 'junction'. However, as a little snapshot of a situation it is a really excellent fic. I tend to 'see' fics projected on the inside of my forehead like a film and that works very well with this one. It would make a brilliant black and white comic - Frank Miller style!