That entirely depends on the attractiveness of the young man in question. :)
Having just posted a very silly (but fun) meme, allow me to post some dark!Percy/Draco fic. Cutting this to the required wordcount killed
Draco’s in Azkaban. Percy likes to feel powerful. Warnings:
implied non-con, dark!PercyDisclaimer:
The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
This was written for a sortinghatdrabs
’ competition; the pairing was ‘Percy Weasley/Death Eater’ and the prompt was ‘piercing’.
Percy re-entered the Ministry after Voldemort’s defeat, sick of sitting in the Burrow and listening to the others give watery laughs at memories of Fred he didn’t share. He was a bad brother, but he was a brilliant administrator; and in the chaos of a post-Voldemort Ministry, Percy’s skills made him worth his weight in gold.
Percy requested a transfer to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after Ron failed the Auror entrance exams. There was nothing like the moment when he announced it. His family’s congratulations were all the sweeter for being insincere.
The best part was meeting his father’s eyes over the fuzz of Mum’s hair as she hugged him. His father was forced to recognise being an ombudsman as an honourable, Gryffindor job he should respect. It was like his, only better-paid. His expression said quite clearly that he knew what Percy was doing.
In that moment, Percy stopped needing the praise of his superiors. He cherished this new idea that there was a bigger rush than the praise: knowing you’d won. It didn’t matter if only your victim knew it.
It was a matter of timing, ultimately. Two weeks after Percy’s epiphany, he was told to inspect Azkaban. He would be making regular inspections, to ensure the humane treatment of prisoners.
Draco Malfoy shared his cell with the Lestrange brothers and Gerard Newett, another former Death Eater. All three were in the communal area when Percy came to visit; Percy wasn’t bothered. Malfoy lay huddled in the corner of his bottom bunk, a rumpled, dark little mass like abandoned laundry.
“Malfoy. I’m here to help you.”
“I need to know if anyone’s been treating you badly.”
A snort, but no other response. The frustrated humiliation of the way this boy had refused to obey him back at Hogwarts – even though he was a prefect
-- came back, and Percy’s lips tightened.
He nodded at the guards. “Stand him up and strip him.”
A cry from Malfoy, high and desperate. He moved now, scrabbling to get away. He was fast, but there was nowhere for him to run. A guard held him still, arms wrapped round the slim body like hoops round a barrel, as the other aimed his wand.
Malfoy went limp, with a long, low groan, when he was stripped. Percy stood, frozen, as he saw: the fingerprint bruises on the slim hips, the bitemark on his collarbone. The nipple rings, shining a piercing silver in the mucky gloom.
He reached out and tugged one piercing, unable to help himself. Malfoy groaned through his teeth and squirmed, his thighs shifting to hide the start of an erection.
Percy grinned at him. “I’m having you moved immediately to a single cell, you poor thing.” Another tug on the piercing defiling that aristocratic body, watching the arch of the slim back, the growing, humiliated flush. “It will all be fine. I’ll keep an eye on you.”