BLIND SIGHT - drarry

Ch. twelve

One month into Draco's tenure at Hale Kokua he'd been kicked, tripped, doused with paint, and thrown up on. All but the vomit he counted as intentional. When taking care of children he'd learned that being thrown up on wasn't so much intention as inevitability.

Being doused with paint didn't bother him too much either. Few people knew that even before he lost his sight, Draco was clumsy. At an early age he learned stain removal and prevention charms to prevent the worst of the catastrophes he had gotten himself into, and when he lost his sight, he'd broadened the charm to cover every article of fabric in his apartment, from clothes to carpets to each piece of upholstery.

The other incidents, however, were disturbing and dangerous, and most of them stemmed from the two rude boys he'd met on his first visit. Peter, the one who though he looked like a girl, and Harry.

Draco had expected some pranks suited to substitute teachers, or unwanted baby sitters, but tripping a blind man in the midst of a crowded playroom was a malicious act. Having turned over a new leaf, Draco didn't want to run to Deacon and tattle, but the boys meant to cause harm and even though Draco had charms he'd used to protect himself from most physical accidents, he knew there were other patients, other children, who didn't have his magical advantage.

As it was, only a quick wandless spell saved him from disaster, making it look like he only stumbled slightly and it took him a solid day to decide Deacon had to be informed.

He knocked softly on Deacon's door, then harder when he received no response. He heard papers rustling around inside, so he knew the man was in.

"Deacon? I know you're there. I'm coming in, so you'd better be decent or who knows what I'll see." Smiling, Draco pushed open the door. "Deacon? I wanted to talk to you about Harry."

Draco heard a gasp from the man and stepped into the small office, closing the door behind him.

"I know he's a child, but I think this time he's gone too far. Someone could have been hurt."

Draco heard Deacon clear his throat roughly, then nothing.

"Deacon, do you have your bloody headphones on again?" Draco had grown very tired very quickly of his boss's habit of listening to rock music in the office. He never knew if the man could hear him or not and once spent fifteen minutes talking to an empty desk.

Draco walked slowly towards the desk, one hand out. Deacon was tall, so seated his head came up to Draco's chest. Draco held his hand out, expecting his fingers to encounter the slick plastic of the headphones, but instead he felt warm, soft hair against his fingertips.

Draco felt the warmth of a blush on his face, "I- I'm sorry, Deacon. I though you had your 'phones on. I didn't mean to—"

Draco was cut off as his hand was taken in a firm grip and his knuckles were lightly kissed. The gesture seemed familiar, but he was too shocked to remember where he had felt it before. He snatched his hand away and backed up a few steps, until he felt the doorknob press against his spine.

"Deacon, I'm not sure what you think is going on, but I'm not interested. That is to say- You're very nice, and I'm sure you're quite handsome, but I don't want a relatio—"

The warm lips pressed against his own stunned him into silence. It had been six months since his last kiss, and all he wanted to do was run away and cry. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Harry was the only one who could kiss him, hold him.

Draco could feel his heart beat faster, and Deacon seemed to be encouraged as warm hands settled on his hips and slid around his waist. Biting down hard on the thick bottom lip, Draco broke free.

"Let me go! Dammit, Deacon, let me go!"

Behind him Draco heard someone pounding on the door so, dropping his cane on the floor, he shoved Deacon away as far as he could. Thrown off balance, Draco fell as well; knocking his head against the corner of the heavy desk. The last thing he heard as he blacked out was a sharp CRACK.