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Hermione rushed in through the hotel door, already unbuttoning her shirt, breath short from hurrying down the corridor. “All right,” she said. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Draco was waiting by the desk, grey eyes softening at her entrance. His jacket was draped over the chair, tie looped loose in his hands as he rolled it neatly between his fingers. As she passed him, he leaned in briefly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I have three hours before my portkey back to France.”
“Then we should be efficient,” Theo drawled, emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, running a hand through his damp hair as he crossed the room.
“My meeting ran long,” Hermione apologized, kicking off her shoes and tugging down her trousers. She glanced pointedly at Draco. “Why are you still so dressed?”
“Why don’t you both just move to France with me?” Draco whined, though he dutifully picked up the pace.
“I need to live in London if I want—” Hermione began.
“To be Minister by forty,” Theo and Draco chorused, smirking at her glare.
“Then stop asking questions you already know the answer to,” she muttered, shrugging out of her shirt and bra in quick succession.
“And I refuse to live anywhere people recognize the name Nott,” Theo added, tossing the towel aside and stretching out naked in the middle of the hotel bed. “America is the move. I’m hotter in America.”
Hermione let out a soft, amused laugh.
Draco groaned, working on the buttons of his shirt. “Why do you get the middle?”
“Because this is my hotel room and my idea,” Theo said smugly, muscles flexing as he tucked a hand behind his head. “Valentine’s is romantic.”
“Valentine’s is a Tuesday,” Hermione corrected, stepping out of her knickers and planting her hands on her hips. “Do you know how many meetings I had to rearrange for this?”
“And we’re eternally grateful,” Theo said lightly. Then he frowned. “Why are you both still over there?”
Hermione crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, lying back beside Theo with a small, tired huff. “I’m still too in my head,” she admitted. “Maybe if you play with my tits first?”
Theo turned toward her, one arm slipping around her middle, blue eyes bright with obvious delight. “With pleasure.”
He cupped her gently, thumbs brushing her nipples, and a breathy sigh slipped out of her before she could stop it. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.” She tipped her head back slightly, shuddering as he continued. “Draco, what are you doing?”
“The bloody button’s stuck,” Draco muttered, still wrestling with his trousers. “I can’t get it out.”
Hermione sat up with another sigh, swatted Theo’s hands away, and focused.
The button popped free and bounced softly onto the carpet.
Both men stared.
“Brightest witch of our age,” Theo said in awe and disbelief.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well?” she prompted Draco.
“Right,” he said, stripping off the rest of his clothes. “Let’s do this.” He paused at the edge of the bed. “What are the chances one of you wants to suck my cock?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Theo said, winking.
“Wait, can we all snuggle first?” Hermione asked. “I just—” She hesitated, then added, “I’ve missed you both.”
“But I’m so hard,” Draco complained, even as he climbed onto the bed and settled at her other side, letting her curl into him anyway.
Almost immediately, Theo’s hand returned to her breasts. Hermione tucked herself between them, trading kisses while Draco nuzzled her neck, his hand drifting lower to find Theo’s cock.
Theo groaned at the first touch. “Bloody hell, Draco. Merlin. No one handles me like you do.”
Draco stilled and lifted his head. “Wait. Other people are handling your cock?”
Theo blinked. He gave one of Hermione’s nipples a distracted tweak, then froze. “Er—yes? We aren’t exclusive, are we?”
“I thought we were,” Draco said, a shudder running through him as Hermione kissed along his jaw. “Hermione, love, have you been sleeping with other people?”
She looked up at him. “Of course not.” She pressed one last soft kiss to his neck before turning to Theo. “I barely have time for you two. I definitely don’t have time for anyone else.”
Theo frowned, thinking. “Wait, are we all exclusive?”
Hermione and Draco exchanged a look.
“Yes,” Hermione said finally, gentle but certain. “I think we are.”
Theo stared at them for a heartbeat, then nodded. “Fuck it, then. I’ll move back to London.” He reached over and pinched Draco’s thigh.
“Ow, you prat, what was that for?”
“You should move back too, tosser. If we’re actually doing this, we need to support our witch.”
Hermione felt tears prick her eyes. “You’d both move back?”
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” Draco said primly.
“For Merlin’s sake,” Theo said. “Just tell Narcissa your lovers live in England. You know all she really wants is grandchildren.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” Hermione echoed, but her voice wobbled with panic.
“Then clearly I need to convince you both,” Theo said decisively. “Draco—over there.” He pointed to one side of the bed, shifting himself so they’d align. “Darling, would you like to ride me?”
“Oi,” Draco said lightly. “You’re a lot nicer when you talk to her.”
“That’s because she’s prettier than you,” Theo teased. “And besides, didn’t you say you wanted me to suck your cock?”
“Fuck, yes, sir,” Draco said, moving immediately where he’d been told.
“I still can’t believe you’re both moving back,” Hermione said softly. She waited until Theo had settled at the edge of the bed, his shoulders braced and his head tipping back, before climbing onto him. Her hands skimmed down his bare chest, then closed around his hardened, weeping cock.
“If I’d known there was even a chance we could be serious,” Theo said, craning his neck to meet her eyes despite the awkward angle. “I would’ve moved back five years ago.” His eyes slipped shut with a shaky exhale. “Merlin, Hermione, if you keep doing that, darling, you’re going to wreck me. I want to come inside you.”
Draco’s hand moved slowly down his own rigid length, stroking in soft, tender pulls. “All I could think about, stuck in that miserable portkey office, was your mouth around my cock.”
Theo let his head fall fully back over the edge of the bed, throat exposed. “Then by all means, love,” he said, voice already rough. “Fuck my face.”
Draco groaned and did, easing his cock into Theo’s waiting mouth.
Not to be outdone, Hermione finally sank down fully onto Theo, a broken sound escaping her before she started to move—slow at first and then steadier, letting the sensation build.
Theo groaned around Draco, the vibration spurring him on, Draco’s thrusts growing more vigorous. “I’m going to come,” Draco warned.
“Predictable,” Hermione teased breathlessly, her rhythm faltering as her clit rubbed perfectly against Theo’s pubic bone.
“I’ve been thinking about this for hours,” Draco panted defensively, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
Hermione could have watched Draco orgasm for the rest of her life. The way his head fell back, the tendons in his neck standing out as he pressed his hips forward desperately, Theo swallowing him down without hesitation. The sight dragged her closer to the edge, a moan slipping free as she slid a hand lower, circling her clit while her pleasure spiraled in his wake.
Theo’s hips stuttered in response, juddering against her as he came. Hermione shattered with him, the feel of his release inside her and Draco’s intent gaze tipping her over completely. “Theo—Draco—fuck.”
Afterward, they lay on the bed together, limbs tangled, Theo pressed warm and solid between them. The room was quiet except for the steadying of their breath.
“All right,” Draco said at last, voice low in the stillness. “I’ll move back to London.”
Theo and Hermione exchanged a soft, pleased look.
“But,” Hermione added, after a few heartbeats, “neither of you is getting me pregnant. At least not yet.”
Theo snorted. “Hear that, Draco? Sounds like we’ve got some convincing yet to do.”
“Just as long as we can manage it before my portkey,” Draco said dryly.
Hermione smiled, cuddling closer. “Do your worst, gentlemen.”
She closed her eyes, contentment sinking in at last. “Happy Valentine’s Day to us.”