Is It the Knickers?
Draco had always been more fascinated by his mother's wardrobe than his father's, sneaking in to play with the elegant creations of silk and lace, slipping into the long gowns and parading in front of the mirror, and later nicking her lingerie and blaming it on the house elves.
It was just his luck that he'd get caught by his cousin Sirius, tossing off in the loo while wearing his favourite knickers. Sirius' eyes locked onto the prick in Draco's hand, roaming over the pyjama trousers around his thighs and the stretchy lace tucked under his balls; there'd been no way to cover up. "Sirius, I..." he began, trying not to think of what his father would do to him once Sirius told his dirty little secret.
"Need a hand?" Sirius asked, shutting the door behind him with that charmingly wicked grin that Draco had secretly admired nearly as much as his mother's silk corsets.
Draco's let his hand drop, baring himself to the gaze that flicked back and forth from his face to his cock in a way Draco would call hungry if he thought Sirius would ever see him as someone worth hungering for. His jaw worked for a moment before any sound came out and he managed to stammer, "I... y-yes, cousin."
Sirius' grin widened and he made sure the door was properly locked. "Have I ever told you," he said, turning back and stepping in so close Draco could feel the heat of his body, "that you've got the loveliest skin?"
The compliment was nearly as shocking as the hand that caressed not his cock but his cheek, cupping it almost affectionately. Draco's eyes went wide, all arrogance stolen away by Sirius' desire and the inexorable slide of his trousers down his thighs, inch by mortifying inch; he shook his head.
"Such soft lips," Sirius murmured, moving in for a kiss Draco could only think of as possessive, tongue flicking out and slipping its way into Draco's half-open mouth as if staking a claim. Sirius' hands moved from Draco's face to his shirt, keeping the kiss going the whole while so that it seemed to Draco as though he'd been stripped in mere seconds, or perhaps an eternity.
Another such kiss and only the knickers were left, his pyjama bottoms lost to Sirius' intent and arms somehow twined around Sirius' neck. Those wicked hands were cupping his arse while Sirius' eyes searched his own, fingers teasing so very near the centre of him. "Please," said Draco softly, hating the soft hitch in his voice.
"Yes, cousin," Sirius replied just as quietly, his tone making it a shared secret rather than the mockery Draco kept expecting.
When Sirius' body plastered itself against his own, Draco felt just how mutual the desire was. This new confidence allowed him to relax into Sirius' embrace and twine his fingers into the soft hair he'd been longing to touch, to make their third kiss into a different thing altogether from the first two. Not possession or exploration but invitation, lips opening the way his body wanted to, inviting Sirius' tongue inside and chasing it back with his own, twining himself around Sirius' tall, lean form. "Is it me," he heard himself ask in a playful tone, rubbing his prick against Sirius' cloth-covered erection, "or is it the knickers?"
Sirius smiled against his lips, slow and sensual, and slid his hands under the lace to trace the patterns it left on Draco's skin, one fingertip sneaking inward teasingly. His voice was rough and warm as he answered, "It's always been you."
Title: Is It the Knickers?