Draco sat in a chair in his father’s study. Lucius had asked him here after supper. He really wished he hadn’t though because there were more important issues, like finishing his summer work.

Lucius was pacing around the room in thought. "Draco... there comes a time in a young wizard’s life when..." He seemed to vanish back into his own head.

Draco didn’t have time for this; he had all of summers reading to do. "Yes, Father?" he tried to sound encouraging.

"I'm thinking, boy, shut up," Lucius snapped back.

Draco understood this was a talk only Lucius would be taking part in. His job was to sit and listen.

Lucius sighed greatly before talking again, "when you go back to school this fall you'll find some of your classmates to have changed...” He paused again, thought some more and continued, “Draco, I will not leave this discovery to chance, you should know before you leave what certain... things will be expected of you, being as popular as you are."

The teen was a little lost but still attempting to follow his father’s thoughts.

"I'm asking you not to engage in whims. I will not be known as the father of a boy who was caught in a broom cupboard with his hands up a girl’s dress robes..." Lucius stated.

Draco’s eyes went wide. It was this conversation! Not to mention his father had come up with that example rather quickly…

"I'm not stupid. You are fifteen, your friends have probably shared and joked about what goes where... and if not then just ask a nice girl to show you," Lucius went on.

The way he said girl scared Draco. Was there another choice? Did Draco seem the type to not take a girl anyway? Certainly not! So why was his father worried? Draco Malfoy liked lasses!

Right…? He couldn’t think of any too appealing… Oh no... what if… "Father," Draco started, "what if...-"

"No, there is no what if. That is that," Lucius said firmly.

Against his better judgment Draco pressed on, “but what if I don’t like girls?”

"Give it time, Draco, you will," his father reasoned.

"But-"

"YOU WILL!" Lucius ordered.

Draco looked down at his lap, “yes, Father.” He had no other option and that was clear. But what would his other option be?

His father hadn’t elaborated. He merely told him the way things are to be. His father should have known better. Because in the back of every teenager’s mind is the urge to do what is not allowed. In the back of every teenager’s mind is the wanting to piss off their parents.

So perhaps if Lucius had never of had this conversation with his son Draco would be fine. He would be locked in that broom cupboard with a nice lass, one who was willing to let him be guided through the awkwardness of his first time. But no. That’s not the way it had turned out.

Instead his back was crushed against the storage shelves. His hands finding purchase in the wood under the dust. A snarl was etched on his face, as it turned to the side.

One strong hand was above his shoulder, gripping the shelf; another was at his side doing the same. A face was buried in his neck, breathing harshly against his skin.

He groaned as he was pushed farther into. It hurt. It felt like he was being ripped apart. They seemed to notice and stop. His head rolled back again so he would be looking over his shoulder if his eyes were open.

He felt their body move against his. Withdrawing slowly before pushing back in. Draco’s grip tightened on the shelves, his head fell back as he released a pitiful sob.

“Shh… Draco, someone will hear,” they whispered into his neck.

The blonde had many comebacks, “well, let’s shove something up your arse and see if you keep quiet about it,” or he could state the reason why they wouldn’t be caught, “there’s a quidditch match! No one’s in the castle!” or he could just say the truth, he didn’t care.

His father had said he wouldn’t have Draco being caught on a whim. This wasn’t a whim; he had been stalking his prey for a good long time now. He said he didn’t want Draco found with his hands up a girl’s robes. This was no girl and their robes were on the floor.

He moved again and Draco groaned. “Merlin! Stop it!” he gasped.

“I’m sorry but you’re arse is too tight!” he hissed. “You said you weren’t a virgin!”

“I lied!” A sudden shaky breath left him. “So stop moving!”

There was a growl against his throat, “you promised a good quick fuck!”

Draco groaned through gritted teeth, “I lied!” He gasped as he was thrust hard into, it made his whole body jump in pain.

“Yeah, well, fuck you!” They spat, “oh wait… I am.” More harsh unforgiving pain.

Draco sobbed and whimpered, “stop…”

His muscles got tired of protesting and gave in. The visitor moved easier as a result, Draco felt the pain becoming tolerable, numb, then fading to pleasure. “Oh… gods…” he moaned before mentally slapping himself.

He would not be the type to cry out. He refused to accept that the silent moans and gasps were coming from him. The other person was only grunting and groaning as though it was a big task to grind his hips into the other body.

Draco scoffed; he was the one going trough the pain for this. He was the one that deserved to make labored sounds. Not the oaf getting purely pleasure, right? Or did it hurt for him too…?

“O-ohsweetMerlin,” Draco’s words collided through loose lips as his arms failed to hold his weight anymore and he sunk down the shelves a little before strong arms caught him. All that sounded through the small room was rough breathing for a long moment. “What was that?!” Draco demanded.

There was a chuckle into his hair, “this?” And it was hit again.

Draco’s back arched as he held back a scream of pure ecstasy. His eyes were wide in surprise. His breathing was hard as he settled again. “Hit… it… again,” he ordered.

They obeyed, earning the same response. “Harder…” Draco insisted. His hips snapped forward hard and fast and the blondes moved to match. “Oh… gods… keep going…” moans and other sounds used his voice as by means of being heard. “Stop… it’s too much… no…” he face turned from side to side as the rocking got faster. “I’m… ah… so… unn- stop!” A loud moan cut himself off, his hips slowing by a great amount. “Oh… Ron…” the small moan left him and a sigh joined it.

He realized somewhere in his spell the redhead had gone through the same ordeal and now they were calming again. He shivered as he felt him leave his body. He braced his legs back on the floor and winced as he felt needles stinging into him from staying in one place for too long.

They found there clothes and started getting dressed in the small area. “So… um…-”

“Listen, weasel, this doesn’t get out, okay?” Draco sneered.

Ron nodded.

“You got some dirt on your face,” he stated harshly.

“You’ve got some cum in your ass,” Ron spat back.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest with a glare, “be here again tonight.”

Ron thought about it. He could use Harry’s map and cloak. “What time?”

“Eleven,” Draco ordered.

The redhead sighed, “fine.”

“Good,” Draco smirked.

“What do you have in mind?” Ron questioned.

“Something a little less messy…” Draco shared.

Ron snorted, “Slytherins should be good with their tongues.”

“And Gryffindors will make you roar,” Draco retorted.

They were getting closer without noticing.

“Prat,” Ron sneered.

“Git,” Draco shot back.

“Ferret.”

“Weasel.”

Draco was on the tips of his toes.

“Fag.”

“Poof.”

They could feel the other’s breath against their lips. Draco was staring at Ron’s he wanted to feel them against his own. Those soft, pink lips… “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Ron leaned down slowly, reluctantly, almost nervously. But he let his lips meet Malfoy’s. Their eyes still staring into the pair in front of them half-lidedly. Ron pulled away again, just as slowly and reluctantly. There was a gentle sound of parting lips in the silence of the cupboard.

Draco settled back down to the flats of his feet but their eyes never broke. They could feel it. The sudden change to their relationship.

Draco’s eyes fell again. He thought of how those lips had felt against his and started leaning in again when the door opened. He changed his expression quickly and balled his hands into fists, “bloody weasel!”

“Shut up, ferret!” Ron shouted back for show.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, what’s going on here?” the professor demanded.

They both looked to her for the first time. Draco started explaining knowing Ron would be hardly capable, “Professor Snape sent me to get,” he looked at the shelves found a jar that would work and pulled it off, “some mirnkwood for his next Potions class. When Weasley here saw me going into the cupboard and assumed I was stealing, so naturally I was defending myself.”

McGongall eyed him suspiciously, “alright then, Mr. Malfoy, go back to your task and, Mr. Weasley, please go watch the remainder of the match or go back to Gryffindor tower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both agreed and went their separate ways. Draco planned on putting back the jar that night after curfew.

And all this happend because his father tried to give him The Talk.

Should this be a chapter story or leave it as a one-shot? Reviews are wonderful.