Disclaimer: Look! Look! points gleefully It's the official document saying that I own them all! Look, it's right there! That pig with wings has it in his mouth!

Warnings: More Jonas …

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Smoke & Mirrors.

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Part Nine. Nowhere To Hide.

"Don't forget to wash them carefully."

"No, Jonas."

"Tools are no good if they are ruined."

"No, Jonas."

"Are you even hearing my words?"

"Yes, Jonas." Draco jumped when he felt fingers close around the tops of his arms.

"You don't seem to be paying attention."

Draco smiled nervously as he felt warm breath on the back of his neck. "I am, just thinking as well."

"About what?"

He shrugged as much as he could with the hands on his arms. "Just stuff."

"Do you ever think about me?"

"Sometimes."

"When? When you lie awake at night?"

"Sometimes." Draco titled his head to the side as Jonas rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Do you touch yourself when you think about me?"

"Sometimes." It was barely a whisper.

"And what do you think about when you aren't thinking about me?"

"Lots of things."

"Like?"

"The war, my parents, Severus, Dumbledore, Pansy." He left one name unsaid.

"Do you think of Voldemort?"

"Not very often."

"What do you think will happen with the war?"

"Voldemort will lose."

"You can't know that."

"He doesn't have a very good track record."

"That doesn't mean he will fail this time. Things change."

"His so called army is disorganised and spends too much time bickering amongst each other. He has no true skill for leadership, he fritters away valuable opportunities simply because he wants something else at the time, he is arrogant even though it has cost him in the past, he rarely listens to advice, he won't see reason, and he wastes most of his time devising ridiculous ways in which to kill a seventeen year old boy." Draco took a breath. "Oh, and he's dog ugly."

Jonas chuckled. "And his looks matter?"

"How can you respect or fear someone when the first instinct is too laugh in his face?"

"He is powerful."

"He abuses his power, his position and his former status. A status he has not lived up to this time around."

"You think you could do a better job?"

"If I had half his knowledge or influence I could have won this war already. Instead he seems intent on all out attacks without enough strategy or squandering prospects by focusing on cute little gadgets he may be able to get his hands on."

"You're so pretty when you get frustrated at other people."

"I don't want him to win, but honestly, the man's useless. It's insulting to think he was in Slytherin. Where is this infamous 'cunning' everyone always says he has?"

"Perhaps he's doing things that you don't know about?"

"I doubt it. I know every other spy in this damn war, no matter which side they're on. From all accounts, Voldemort's barely holding on to his own sanity, let alone being capable of organising the tactics needed to win this war."

"The other spies tell you things?"

"Yes, they're all very fond of me, even the ones that aren't a relation."

"It's because you look so breakable. It's a real gift you have, darling."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Don't call me that."

"You look so trustworthy. And fragile, as if we could snap you." Jonas tightened his fingers, smiling as Draco squirmed some more. "People look at you and think you can be relied upon. It makes me quite jealous, really."

"It does?" Draco's hand wandered down to adjust his trousers as his erection strained against it. He just wanted Jonas to let him go and take a few steps back.

"People can feel that I'm not to be trusted. No one would dare turn their back on me. No one but you, anyhow."

"You wouldn't kill me."

"You sound so sure?"

"You want me."

"Yes, I do. I've never tried to conceal that. Not even in front of your parents. What do they think of me?"

"They hate the way you look at me."

"Do they hate the way I touch you?"

"I …I've never told them."

"Ashamed of me, Draco?" The tone was a warning of sorts.

"None of their business."

"And do you tell your dear, precious Severus? Or Dumbledore, perhaps?"

"They know some things."

"Like?"

"They know what you are. I have to put it in my reports."

"What do you say about me?"

"The truth. I didn't think you'd mind much."

"You're right, I don't. They can think what they like." Jonas placed a gentle kiss on Draco's neck. "What do you think of me?"

"I think you're beautiful."

"Is that all?" Another kiss, to the other side of Draco's neck.

"Vain, arrogant … dangerous." Draco shuddered as Jonas' left hand moved to undo one of the buttons of his shirt. He stood a little straighter when the hand slipped inside to rest on his stomach.

"Arrogant?"

"You're going to deny it?"

"Perhaps not." Jonas nudged Draco's shirt to the side with his face, placing a sucking bite to the pale skin on the blonde's shoulder.

"Stop that. It'll leave a mark." He felt his hand twitch and forced it to remain still.

"So?"

Draco's mind raced along, trying to think of a good reason to get out of his grasp. "People might get suspicious."

"And who will see it there?"

Draco closed his eyes, knowing he had walked right into that one. "No one."

"Then it doesn't matter." Jonas straightened up, regarding the blonde's tense posture. "Or maybe you're lying to me."

Draco's heart really sped along at this. He didn't like where the conversation was going. "Why would I lie?"

"Excellent question." Jonas removed his hand from under Draco's shirt and put it back on the boy's arm, squeezing very tightly this time.

"Jonas, stop it. That hurts."

"You like pain, my little, blonde protégé." He squeezed harder.

"Stop it!" Draco tried to wrench himself away but was not the strongest of the two.

"Who would see it if I left a mark?"

"No one." Draco spat the lie out this time.

"Then why even say it?"

"I don't know. I just don't want you touching me."

"That's not true, we both know it."

"I won't beg you, I won't ever."

"I know, I know, your damnable pride." Jonas pushed Draco, overbalancing and watched him fall to the floor.

Draco hated himself for it, but cringed anyway when the man took a step towards him.

Jonas reached down, grabbing him by his hair and sharply pulling it back, forcing Draco tilt his head backwards. "I hope you're not lying to me, Draco, I truly do. It would be such a waste to lose something as pretty as you."

"I'm not. I wish you'd learn to control your temper."

"Don't," he accentuated it with tugging harder on the blonde hair, "tell me what to do. It works the other way in this little relationship of ours. I tell you what to do, and you follow my orders. Remember?"

Draco didn't answer and received a sudden slap across his face.

"Remember?"

"Yes … yes, Jonas."

"Is there something you should be telling me? Something that perhaps involves a certain raven-haired boy you talk so much about?"

"No. And I only talk about him because you keep asking. I don't have anything to tell you about him."

Jonas' eyes narrowed and the hand holding Draco's head flicked back and released, allowing the boy to crack the back of his head on the stone floor. "You're lying to me Draco, I can feel it."

Draco lay gasping on the floor, unable to move as his vision blurred from the pain.

"I think perhaps it's time you had a little try of the TORCH."

"No, Jonas, please, I swear to you, I'm not lying. There's nothing going on between me and Harry. I don't know why you keep thinking there is."

"You swear it?"

"I swear it."

"On what?"

"Tell me what to swear it on."

"Swear it on his life."

"I swear on his life, on Harry Potter's life, there's nothing going on." Draco moved to sit up, meaning to reach for Jonas' leg and really play the submissive. He let out a choked sob and arched his back as a dragon skin boot slammed into his spine.

"I didn't tell you to grovel at me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Qevjivod tmav." The man muttered under his breath. He knelt down and lifted Draco's head to look him in the eye. "One day, I just won't bother waiting for you to beg me, waiting for you to give in to the inevitable. I'll get tired of this little game, tired of you. Your pretty face won't save you forever." He let the head drop back down and looked to the doorway. "Lie there and don't move."

When Jonas left the room, Draco did as he was told, mostly. He lay there, but had to move his hand to readjust his trousers. A small tear, caused by the agony in his skull, slid out even though he clenched his eyes tightly.

"Hello Laurie."

He heard Jonas' voice greet someone in the other room, but couldn't hear anymore of the murmurs. His brain absently told him he should be investigating the people Jonas talked to, but he hurt too much right now. He just wished the pain would ease his erection, instead of worsening it. He really hated how Jonas could do that to him.

A few more minutes of lying on the cold stone and then he jumped when warm hands gently pulled him to his feet, cradling him to a chest covered by a sweet smelling white shirt. "Gushowi no."

"I'm okay." He answered back weakly.

"I know I have a temper, Draco. I sometimes don't mean the things I do to you."

"I know."

"Is your head okay?"

"Hurts, and my visions stuffed. Every thing is warped." Draco didn't flinch away when warm lips brushed his forehead.

"I'll get you a potion for that later."

"Thank you."

"What about your back? Can you walk?"

"I can barely breath. Walking is not really an issue right now." Draco forced some humour into his voice, rewarded by a gentle caress on his shoulders.

"Would you like me to kiss it better?"

Part of him really wanted that, but it was pushed aside. "I just need to sit, before I fall."

Jonas picked him up off the ground completely and carried him over to the nearest chair. Settling down, he placed Draco in his lap and just held him there.

Draco rested his head on Jonas' chest, listening to the steady heartbeat, feeling comforted by it. But he didn't let himself relax too much. This was when he was a true danger to himself, when he let Jonas' sweet side gain some ground. A gentle hand started to brush over his spine, trying to ease the pain from where he had been kicked.

"You think Voldemort will lose?"

Draco was sure he had a mild concussion at least, as he had to fight to remember what they had been talking about. "Yes."

"And what of us? You're covered, Draco, being a spy for Dumbledore. But me, well, I doubt I'd receive any medals for what I do."

"It does look unlikely." He closed his eyes, if only to stop the room from swaying.

"What about me, Draco? What would I do, where would I go? Sometimes I can't bear the thought of being away from you."

"Really?"

"Of course. You've always been special. Everyone can see it."

Draco tightened his hold on the warm body. "I'm sure you'd find somewhere. You had places to go before the war."

"Hmm, I suppose. But away from you?"

"What else is there?"

"You could hide me, keep me safe."

"It's possible, I suppose. The Ministry have been deceived before."

"You would do that for me, wouldn't you? You would keep me safe?"

Draco raised his head and felt with his fingers for Jonas' lips. He placed a gentle kiss on them once he was confident enough to lean forward without overbalancing. "Of course. I need you, Jonas. I'd keep you safe."

Jonas kissed him back. "Of course you would." He moved his lips to sit right next to Draco's left ear. "N'jiesv ot 'uast."

Draco forced his eyes open and looked around. His bedroom at his country house. His breathing slightly erratic, he audibly cursed himself when he realised he was still hard from the dream. 'Not a dream, memory', was how he corrected it in his head. He sat up and then groaned, one hand coming to clutch at his head, the other trying to reach his spine. He could think of only one thing that would have done this.

He staggered to his wardrobe, picking up a hand held mirror from his dresser and moved to stand in front of his full length mirror, his back to it. Angling the other mirror to see the reflection of his back, he saw the three inch wide bruise that was still forming. He didn't actually have to look harder to know that if he did, he would be able to distinguish the tread of the shoe that had kicked him.

Suddenly angry, he walked unsteadily back to his bed and searched it for the pendant. Finding it, he threw it across the room, spitting a variety of insults after it. He carefully lowered himself back on to the bed and sighed, wishing for the sudden death of the thumping pain that was loitering behind his eyes.

He didn't even really care when his hand moved back to his groin, meaning to take care of the one problem he could fix without a healer or a very strong potion.

To Be Continued.