Serenity

Of Fields and Thestrals

2015-08-25T19:23:46Z

Title: Of Fields and Thestrals
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Of all the things Harry thought he’d see today this certainly featured nowhere on his list.
Warnings: Extreme randomness
Length: Short (sorry, no exact word count due to my new computer not yet having Office installed)
Author's Notes: So this is just a really silly fic that came to me whilst driving through the countryside back in Spring. Huge thank you to my beta avrildulac who pointed out that not everyone is familiar with animal biology (and who probably thinks I'm a bit crazy for writing this!)

Of Fields and Thestrals

Of all the things Harry thought he’d see today, Draco Malfoy with his hand up a Thestral’s arse was not one of them.

All the same, the situation couldn’t be denied. Harry was standing right here at the edge of a field and in front of him was Draco Malfoy.

With his hand up a Thestral’s arse.

“What are you doing?” he blurted out before he could think about the wisdom of drawing attention to his presence.

Draco glanced up, and a flicker of surprise passed over his features before he schooled them back to neutrality. He did not look pants-wetttingly embarrassed, which is how Harry was sure he would look if their positions were reversed and he’d been the one caught with his hand up a Thestral’s arse.

“I’ve got my hand up this Thesral’s arse,” said Draco slowly and carefully, as if the fact that he was almost shoulder deep inside the thing might be a detail Harry had somehow overlooked.

Harry blinked. He had thought that coming to investigate the breeding zoo for magical animals that was located on the edge of the village where his new house was situated would be an interesting and relaxing way to spend the day. That was when he’d thought it would contain 100% less Draco Malfoy than it actually did.

At least the visit was proving interesting.

“Why?” he said, after he’d spent long enough gawping that Draco had turned away and started rummaging around inside the Thestral again in what Harry considered to be a rather disturbing way.

“To find out if it’s pregnant.”

“Oh.” Harry gave this some thought and then said, "If you're trying to find out if it's pregnant shouldn't you be sticking your hand um... somewhere else?"

Draco gave a long suffering sigh and a look that suggested Harry was lucky he was deigning to answer such mundane questions.

"Do you honestly think, Potter, that I've gone to the trouble of sticking my hand in here without first checking it's the right place?" He wriggled his hand a little and scrunched his nose up in a expression of displeasure. "The easiest way to feel the uterus is through the rectal wall, hence the hand up the arse. Actually there are several ways to tell if a Thestral’s pregnant, but none of them are more effective than sticking your hand in and finding out.”

“Oh.” Harry supposed that was the best explanation he was going to get and tried to think of something relevant to say. “Is it?”

“Pregnant?” Draco frowned, adjusted his angle and rummaged some more. “Hard to tell. Maybe.”

He pulled his hand out and started washing it in a nearby bucket of water as the Thestral trotted away. Harry wondered distractedly why he wasn’t just using his wand to vanish away the horrible mess, but in the end decided it was probably for exactly the same reason that most witches and wizards still took showers. It was hard to feel fully clean when there was no water involved.

Draco did however take out his wand and vanish the dirty water afterwards, taking a moment to refill the bucket with fresh before he clicked his tongue and a new Thestral came trotting over.

“What was the point of washing if you’re just going to ah… to…” He floundered.

“Stick my hand back up a Thestral’s arse?” Draco supplied, as he did exactly that.

“Yeah.” Harry wasn’t sure why he was the one who had turned an unpleasant crimson colour. Draco was the one with his had in the less than savoury place.

“Cross contamination, Potter. Surely even you can work that one out.” There was less malice in his voice than there might have been and a moment later his face lit up with a smile that made Harry’s heart jump into his throat.

“She’s pregnant,” he said softly, flexing his arm slightly to feel a new angle. “About three months I’d say.”

“Oh.” Harry felt something else might be expected of him. “Great.” He knew he didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic, but then he wasn’t really enthusiastic about a baby Thestral. They weren’t exactly cute. In fact, he’d only wandered over to their field out of the sort of curiosity he suspected compelled certain people to go and watch horror films that they knew would scare the pants off them. Really, he didn’t want to see Thestrals at all. He was only still here because… well because the sight of Draco with his hand up at Thestral’s arse was not the sort of sight you could just walk away from.

“So why are you doing this?”

Draco grunted as he probed inside the Thestral a little deeper.

“It's the sort of job you give to the least experienced member of the team,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, “No one really wants to stick their hand up an arse do they?”

Harry supposed he was right.

“Does it hurt?” he asked

“Who? Me or the Thestral?”

”The Thestral!“

Draco smirked in a way Harry felt was highly unfair, considering the situation. ”Does it hurt when someone sticks their fingers up your arse?”

”Um, well,” Harry could feel his cheeks heating rapidly and wished he’d never brought the whole thing up. Probably it would have been a lot better had he just ignored the fact that Draco had his hand in a Thestral’s arse and moved on with his life. “That's a finger not a whole arm,” he pointed out somewhat lamely.

Draco’s smirk grew wider. ”The Thestral’s bigger than you.”

Harry really did blush then, even as a rather horrific thought crossed his mind. ”Are you saying...?” he blurted out, stopping only when he realised the ridiculousness of what he was about to say.

There was a pause whilst Draco’s face creased into a puzzled frown and Harry felt his stomach sink as he waited for the penny to drop.

“Merlin, Potter! Don't be disgusting!” Draco face had creased into a look of abject horror, though at least horror was one up from anger. “What do you take me for? Some kind of weird, kinky pervert? This is not in anyway a sexual experience for anyone concerned.”

Harry pouted defensively. “You're the one who compared it to my arse,” he complained, and then realised that this was not entirely what he'd meant to say.

”Who said I have sexual thoughts about your arse, Potter? Maybe I was referring to a medical examination.”

Harry felt slightly ill at the thought. He also knew he was still bright red and felt it best not to say anything else. Draco seemed to sense his discomfort for he grinned suddenly and Harry’s heart decided it would be much more at home in his throat. Draco had the sort of grin that should probably be illegal. It was joyful and wicked and suggested that the owner was thinking terribly deviant thoughts that may or may not involve their companion. Harry wondered briefly if Draco had grinned like that at school and then realised that actually he'd never seen Draco grin in such a genuine way at school.

“So, why are you here Potter?” Draco said, when he’d changed Thestrals and enough time had passed that Harry was beginning to realise they were standing in awkward silence.

“I live over there, in the village.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I wanted to get away, you know. Fed up of the staring. I just wanted to be left alone for once. Get away from all the people who think they know me.”

“Oh. That’s… unfortunate.”

“What? Why?”

“I live in the village too.”

“So?” Harry failed to see the relevance of this to his situation, even if it was something of a surprise.

“Well, I know you.”

“You’re not exactly my biggest fan, Malfoy,” he pointed out.

Draco shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t occupied with the Thestral’s arse and resumed his rummaging.

“What are you doing here anyway? I mean apart from…”

“The Thestral thing?” Draco’s eyes gleamed with what might actually have been amusement. “My service to the community apparently.”

“Oh.” Harry had heard about this, though most of those who had been handed community service had served it doing menial cleaning or filing jobs in the Ministry. How the hell had Draco ended up out here?

“I asked to be transferred out here. You’re not the only one who hates being stared at. All anyone ever sees when they look at me is this.”

His arm was out and suddenly Harry found himself looking at the fading scar where the Dark Mark had once been through a rather unpleasant layer of slime. He recoiled and Draco gave him a pointed look, before he plunged his arm back into the bucket of water.

“Honestly, Malfoy, I really did not need to see the insides of a Thestral smeared all over your arm, thank you. And surely people have got over that by now?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“But it was half a lifetime ago!”

“A third actually.”

“What?”

“A third, Potter. Basic maths. We’re 27 now and we were nearly 18 back then. It’s a third of our lifetimes.”

“I’m still 26.”

“Whatever, it’s still not half.”

Harry found himself smiling. Draco stuck his hand up another arse.

“How did you imagine your life would turn out, Potter?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, when the War ended, what did you think you’d do with your life?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I guess I thought I’d be married to Ginny, with a child on the way. How about you?”

There was a shrug again, Draco became very interested in the feet of the Thestral he was manhandling. “I thought I was going to Azkaban, Potter. I was hardly planning for a future.”

“Why on earth would you have been sent to Azkaban?”

Draco gave him a baleful look, and Harry snapped his mouth shut. There was a long pause, during which Draco seemed to forget exactly what he was doing judging by the stillness of his hand.

“Thank you, by the way.”

Harry had been distractedly staring at a nearby tree, trying to think of a way out of this awkward conversation. He jerked and turned his eyes back to Draco’s face.

“What for?”

“You’re the reason I’m not in Azkaban.”

Harry felt things were getting a bit heavy for what was supposed to be a relaxing day out and attempted a change of subject.

“That was a long time ago. Did you decide to work with animals straight away or is this a recent thing?”

Draco let out a laugh that was very nearly a snort. “No, I thought the same as you.” He chewed his lips thoughtfully for a second, then seemed to come back to himself, for the gleam of amusement returned and he resumed his rummaging. “Not Ginny, obviously. Some other woman though, someone my parents approved of.”

“Things didn’t work out the way you planned?”

“When do they ever?”

“Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you married?”

“I’m gay.”

The rummaging stopped. Then there was a shocked burst of laughter. “You’re gay?”

“Why is that funny?”

Draco sobered up. “It’s not, not really. It’s just…”

“I suppose it is funny really. The Great Harry Potter can’t even find a boyfriend. I’m destined to be gay and lonely forever.”

“Maybe we can do something about that?”

“About what? Being gay?” Harry blinked in confusion, wondering for one brief, insane moment if Draco was going to suggest some sort of potion to cure his ‘gayness’. He’d heard some Muggles believed it was just a disease, but he’d never heard anyone in the magical community express that belief. Surely Draco didn't think it was something that needed to be cured?

“This one’s pregnant too,” Draco announced at random, then pulled his arm out and starting the washing procedure all over again. “I meant about the lonely part, actually, Potter. Believe it or not I know how you feel.”

“I guess this is a pretty lonely place to live. I only came here for some peace and quiet.”

“Well, there’s certainly a lot of that, but what I meant was,” he paused to take a deep breath, “I’m gay too.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked and then said, “Oh,” again in a much louder voice.

Draco emptied his bucket, refilled it and then began washing all over again. Harry wondered if he was so distracted by the conversation that he’d forgotten to do the whole sticking his hand up a Thestral’s arse in between.

He tried to lighten the mood. “Well, at least now I know I’m not the only gay in the village.”

“What?”

“Never mind; it’s a Muggle joke.”

Draco gave him a look that suggested Harry was lucky Draco wasn’t carting him off to St Mungo’s to have his head examined and turned back to the bucket.

“My parents weren’t happy when they found out,” he continued, scrubbing at his nails with a brush that he’d conjured, “That’s another reason I came here, to get away from them and their incessant disappointment.”

A Thestral wandered over and attempted to put its nose into Draco’s washing water. He gave it a friendly push, and grinned.

“This is why I work with animals, Potter. They don’t care whether you’re gay or even if you were a bit of an idiot as a teenager. They like you all the same.”

“You were more than a bit of an idiot, Malfoy.” Harry paused, and then added, “Though you seem to have improved since.”

“I’ve had a lot of practise.” He straightened up, dried his hands on a conjured towel and rolled his sleeve back down to his elbow. Apparently he’d finished with the Thestrals for now. Harry could see them all watching warily from a distance, except for the one who tried to stick its head in the bucket again. Draco glanced at it and waved his wand, filling it with fresh water that the Thestral immediately plunged its face into.

“It’s true that this is the first time you've ever said a civil word to me,” Harry mused, watching the Thestral as it drank greedily.

There was a pause, and Harry looked up to find Draco regarding him with an odd look in his eyes. ”I could say the same about you,” he said defiantly, “And actually I seem to recall saying several civil words to you when I first introduced myself. You were the one who rebuffed me.”

Harry bristled at the memory and felt the need to defend himself. ”Yes, because you introduced yourself by insulting the first friend I ever had.”

Draco arched an elegant eyebrow, apparently deciding to ignore Harry’s bristliness. ”The first? Surely not?”

”Yes, the very first,” said Harry with such finality that Draco snapped his mouth shut. He frowned for a second and then his face softened.

“All right, but I've changed since then.”

Harry felt his own stance soften at those words. ”I think we both have.”

To his surprise Draco sniggered, breaking the oddly melancholy air that seemed to have settled over them both. ”Yes, your hair seems to have improved for one thing.”

Harry surprised himself by laughing and ran a hand though his mop of black hair, which immediately disproved Draco’s statement by sticking up at several odd angles. Draco watched the gesture and then glanced away, gazing thoughtfully across the field. There was silence, during which Draco watched the Thestrals and Harry watched Draco. Eventually he seemed to come to some sort of decision and turned back to Harry, pale grey eyes meeting Harry’s own.

“Look,” he said, “We lived in close proximately for six years and apparently never said a civil word to each other. We seem to be doing better this time, so I think we should do this properly, don’t you?”

Harry gave a jerk of his head that might have been a nod. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to nod; it was more that he wasn’t sure what response Draco was expecting. He hoped it was a nod. He hoped Draco realised that he was happy to go along with whatever he was planning.

It seemed he did.

Draco stuck out his hand, which was happily not the one that had been in any arses.

“Hello, my name’s Draco Malfoy. I’d quite like to settle down and find someone who knows about my past and accepts me for who I am now. I’d also like to train to be a magizoologist because I like animals.”

“Hello, I’m Harry Potter. I’m a trained Auror.” He searched around for some appropriate words. Draco had been startlingly open in his introduction and Harry felt he needed to return the favour. “I’d like to meet someone who loves me for being me, not someone who hero worships me.”

Draco smiled. A genuine, heart-breaking smile. He released Harry’s hand and turned to look out over the field, the soft afternoon sun glinting off his hair and making his eyes shine with a warmth that Harry had never thought possible.

“You know what, Harry?” he said quietly, “I have a feeling we’re both going to find what we’re looking for.”

More Randomness

2015-05-15T21:17:27Z

So it's the 15th May already - only two weeks until my birthday - and it's making me feel depressingly old. Also so much to do and not enough time to do it in; where is the time going?

The house is still a complete mess from when we found mice living in the loft a couple of weeks ago. We emptied the whole thing, but I have yet to find the motivation to put everything back. Maybe this weekend it will finally get done!

In happier news I have just been introduced to the wonderful world of Johnlock fanfiction, thanks to avrildulac. This prompted me to actually watch an episode of Sherlock when it was on BBC3 last Monday; the first one I've ever seen. My mind has now been blown away by the sheer awesomeness of the whole thing and all I can say is - how have I not seen this before?!

Actually it's because I really love the original books, and the much earlier TV series and I got totally excited about the film that came out a few years back, only to give up about 20 minutes into the film when it turned out to be completely horrible and awful and just everything Sherlock isn't. I didn't dare watch the TV series in case it was equally as awful, but it seems my fears were completely unfounded. Benedict Cumberbach is completely wonderful, as is Martin Freeman, and now I desperately need to sit down and watch the other 8 episodes back to back (the fact that there's only 8 is killing me, how has anyone watching it from the beginning survived this complete lack of material to drool over?) Also apparently I watched the worst episode according to this so clearly there is much more wonderfulness to come.

So that's it really, I just wanted to share my happiness at this wonderful revelation! I shall now go back to feeling old and despairing at the fact that I can't get into my spare room. :)

Writing (or lack thereof)

2015-04-20T19:45:19Z

I really need to get some writing done, like my entry for smoochfest, but I lack motivation at the moment so instead I've just cross-posted my 'That Picture' Flash Fest entry so I've got all my fics in one place. It's terrible procrastination. Next I may go read some fics instead of actually writing one.

On another note I'm very much looking forward to being able to reply to the comments on my dracotops_harry entry. It makes me feel terribly guilty seeing people taking the time to comment and not being able to reply. Roll on the end of April! (Although not too fast because, you know, smoochfest deadline and all that.)

Fic - Harry Potter and the Mysterious Portrait Painter

2015-04-20T19:38:36Z

Title: Harry Potter and the Mysterious Portrait Painter (or How Harry Came To Realise Draco Has A Magnificent Arse)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Summary: No one had much minded when the pictures first started appearing; even Draco only greeted them with a raised eyebrow. Now it seemed Harry really should have given them more thought.
Word Count: 1,614
Disclaimer: 'That Picture' is a work of and belongs to alekina. The general non-profit, fair-use disclaimer for Harry Potter fanfiction and fanart applies.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my beta avrildulac who convinced me that I should leave this as it is. This fic was written for the 'That Picture' Flash Fest over at hd_remix. Thank you to the mods for running such a wonderful fest and thank you to birdsofshore, who submitted the prompt that inspired this piece.

Harry Potter and the Mysterious Portrait Painter (or How Harry Came To Realise Draco Has A Magnificent Arse)

No one had much minded when the pictures started appearing. Of course there’d been a bit of a stir at the very first one, with speculation rife about who had painted it and more than one comment on the artist’s technique and their ability to capture a likeness in their portraits, but with a new one appearing every week in different parts of the castle, fresher interests had pushed them to the back of most people’s minds. Even Draco only greeted them with a raised eyebrow and that twisted half smile that seemed to be his default expression since returning to Hogwarts.

Apart from a brief snigger with Ron when the one of Draco wearing an earring had appeared outside the potions classroom Harry had mostly ignored the paintings. There seemed to be no malicious intent in them – indeed Harry thought that if anything the portraits were excessively flattering – and his only concern was to worry about the mental health of whoever was so deeply obsessed with a former Death Eater that they’d cover the castle in his likeness.

Since the answer didn’t seem to be forthcoming, Harry all but forgot about the images and just got on with working to pass his NEWTs.

At least that’s what he’d been trying to do.

Now there was this picture.

Harry couldn’t actually identify the subject because it was currently being waved in his face by an enraged looking Draco Malfoy. Harry’s first thought was that it made a nice change to see something other than the raised eyebrow and half smile, and his second thought was that there was something shiny in Draco’s ear.

“Malfoy, are you wearing an earring?”

The question seemed to surprise Draco enough that he ceased the shouting and the picture waving, opting instead to preen a little as if he expected Harry to admire his new accessory, rather than laugh in his face.

Actually Harry was alarmed to find that he had no desire to laugh in Draco’s face. The diamond stud, which had seemed so amusing just a week ago, now looked exactly right, and Draco seemed to have done something to his hair to make it look a little more like it had in that particular painting. The look, in real life, was alarmingly attractive and Harry felt his cheeks redden.

“Why, yes Potter, it is,” Malfoy said, touching his earlobe with one long, pale finger. Harry found his eyes tracking the movement and he forced himself to bring them back to Malfoy’s face, which was flushed from the shouting, but now wore a very familiar smirk. “Like it?”

“I uh…” Harry cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. “Very… nice.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you think of a better adjective, Potter? You might try dashing, or daring, or even devastatingly attractive. Nice is an adjective you might just achieve if you ever deigned to brush your hair.”

“I do brush my hair!” Harry exclaimed, and then realised it was entirely pointless, and rather embarrassing, to be having any sort of argument about his grooming habits with Draco Malfoy of all people. “Anyway,” he added hoping the lie didn’t show on his face, “an earring does not make you devastatingly attractive.”

“I beg to differ.” Draco dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand and then gave Harry a penetrating look that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“What were you yelling about anyway?” Harry muttered, shifting a little and trying to will the blood away from his cheeks, which he was pretty sure were scarlet by now.

“This, Potter, I was yelling about this.”

A painting was thrust in his face. A painting that… contained Draco’s arse.

Harry suddenly very much wished he’d let the blood stay in his cheeks, on the basis that it was preferable to other parts of his anatomy that suddenly seemed very keen to be filled instead.

“What are you doing to my arm, Potter?” Draco asked, which at least had the advantage of drawing Harry’s attention away from that arse… (sweet Merlin, did it look like that in real life?) and towards the rest of the painting, which mostly contained Harry, scowling in concentration and waving his wand at Draco’s Dark Mark.

He blinked once or twice, cleared his throat, blinked again and then shuffled awkwardly against the wall, suddenly uncomfortably aware that Draco had stepped up close to him when he’d started yelling and hadn’t stepped away again.

“How am I supposed to know?” he countered eventually, realising that he had to say something and that Draco was giving him that look again, “I didn’t paint it.”

The look hardened and Draco’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he scrutinised Harry’s face, apparently looking for any sign he might be lying. Since he wasn’t, Harry could only put his uncomfortable feeling down to the fact that an image of Draco’s arse was emblazoned on his mind and the little niggling thought that if only Draco would turn around and walk away he’d get to see whether the artist had captured his arse as perfectly as they seemed to be able to capture his face.

“There’s a snake, Potter,” said Draco eventually, his tone suggesting he thought he was speaking to a very small child – or possibly just that he thought Harry was stupid. “And I appear to be wearing a waistcoat. And you are messing up my hair.”

“It’s not real,” Harry pointed out, slightly unsure what direction Draco was going in with this.

“Yes,” said Draco testily, as if this was simply a minor inconvenience, “but what are you doing?”

“I don’t…” Harry stopped, frowned and then glared at Draco, feeling that somehow he was being made a fool of. “Is this some sort of joke, Malfoy? How the hell am I supposed to know what’s going on? Go find whoever painted it and ask them.”

“Maybe you’re removing the Mark,” Draco speculated, apparently deciding to ignore Harry’s suggestion and fixing his gaze on the picture instead. “Or maybe it came to life somehow. Or maybe…”

“You really aren’t getting this are you?” Harry snapped, exasperated beyond belief that Draco was perusing the point when he had no answers. “Listen very carefully, Draco. I. Didn’t. Paint. It.”

That snapped Draco out of his reverie and he glanced up, subjecting Harry another of those penetrating looks. “Well, done, “ he murmured, “You learned my name.” He scrutinised the picture again, giving Harry no time to object before he added, “You know, whoever this is they’ve done a very good job on my arse. Very lifelike, don’t you think?”

Harry’s face caught fire. At least, he was pretty sure it must have done, since there was no way it could actually have got so hot without spontaneously combusting.

“I um…” He cleared his throat for a third time and tried to pull himself together enough to snap, “I wouldn’t know, Malfoy. I don’t spend my spare time staring at your arse.”

“No?” Draco gave him a look that could only be described as sympathetic. “Oh well, your loss, Potter. I have a magnificent arse. You really should check it out sometime.”

Harry gaped. Draco had not just invited him to check out his arse, had he? He replayed the last few seconds of conversation. Oh bollocks, he had. The blood in Harry’s cheeks found somewhere else to be.

“Unfortunately they’ve also captured your hair rather well,” Draco continued, apparently unaware of Harry’s reaction as he returned to the picture. “Honestly, Potter, have you never heard of a brush? I could lend you one if you like.”

The sympathetic look returned and Harry gave a strangled gasp at the idea of using Draco’s hairbrush. “Look I just have excitable hair, okay?” he spluttered, “It’s not my fault.”

Draco gave Harry’s hair a final doubtful glance and shook his head in a way that suggested he wouldn’t be seen dead with hair like that. Harry was rather glad he didn’t personally share the sentiment – he rather liked being alive.

“Whatever, Potter,” he said dismissively. “I think it’s about time we found out who it is that’s painting these things.”

“We?” Harry echoed faintly, wondering whether Draco was actually suggesting they worked together, or whether it was just a slip of the tongue.

“Yes, we, Potter. You’re involved now too. I refuse to allow someone to go around painting you doing unspeakable things to my arm without finding out who they are and doing unspeakable things to them in return.”

“What do you mean?” Harry felt he was rapidly losing the thread of this conversation. “What are you going to do to them?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Draco said airily, “I know a few choice hexes. But on the other hand…” He peered knowingly at Harry for a long moment, forcing him to shift uncomfortably against the wall again.

“Um…” Harry cleared his throat once more and then realised he’d done it so often in the last few minutes that it was starting to hurt. He swallowed quickly and tried, “So, uh, what are we going to do?”

The look Draco gave him this time could only be described as one of pure satisfaction. He smirked and patted Harry on the arm in what might have been mistaken for affection, but which Harry correctly interpreted as patronising.

“I’ll be in touch, Harry,” he said smoothly, and before Harry could react with a sarcastic, I see you learnt my name too, he’d turned and walked away.

Really Harry should have shouted it after him, but somehow the words got lost on the way to his lips.

Draco really did have a magnificent arse.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 17: Reparation

2015-03-14T18:39:21Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Apologies! Firstly because it has been so long since I updated this and secondly because this chapter is nothing if not completely random. There were a few things they both needed to get out in the open before they could move on :)

Chapter 1 here
Chapter 16 here, just in case you've forgotten what happened last time!

Chapter 17: Reparation

“So how does it feel?”

They were sat in Harry’s library again, the flames from the fire providing the only light in the darkened room. Since coming back from St Mungo’s earlier Draco had stayed mostly in his room, only coming down to sit with Harry after dinner. The earlier elation had worn off, now he had only a strange sense of melancholy. Strange because he didn’t know why he was feeling it at all.

He had got what he wanted, the feeling was coming back to his hands; soon he’d be able to do everything that he could do before. He would have his life back; he could move out; he could move on; he could put this whole sorry episode behind him. He could forget he’d ever fucked Harry. Harry could forget he’d ever fucked him.

He didn’t know why that thought filled him with despair.

“Fucking wonderful,” he muttered in reply to Harry’s question, raising his arms to try and press his fingers into his eyes. He couldn’t quite manage it properly yet and the pressure was only light, not the deep relieving press he needed to try and force his thoughts from his head. And it made his arm muscles burn. He swore again and dropped his hands, glancing over to see Harry looking at him in confusion.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, giving him that look again. I’m here and I care. Except soon he wouldn’t be here and he wouldn’t care. Maybe he never cared.

“Come on, Draco,” Harry said, in a blatantly obvious attempt to cheer him up, “I know it’s hard right now because your arms don’t feel like before, but it won’t take long before you get back to normal. And you heard what the Healer said, you can be back to work in a week. Before you know it you’ll be independent again. No more having to put up with me. You’ll be able to go back to living your life.”

So he didn’t care. All he was worried about was getting Draco out of here as soon as possible. It was the last straw. Draco jumped to his feet and made for the door, ignoring Potter’s call behind him until he felt the other man’s hand close around his wrist and yank him backwards.

“Draco, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh I don’t know, Potter, you tell me since you seem to know so much about my life and my feelings,” he snapped, rounding suddenly on the other man and rejoicing internally when the hand he shoved against Potter’s chest actually drove the other man into the wall. “Maybe I’m just fed up with all this fucking shit. Maybe I’m fed up of this whole degrading experience. Have you any idea how humiliating it’s been to have everything done for me? Have you any idea what it’s been like? I bet you’ve been loving this haven’t you? Draco Malfoy fallen from grace, helpless as a child, having to rely on his schoolboy rival for everything. Everything. “

He was being unfair, he knew, but right now he was too worked up to care. “And it’s not even over. Bloody hell, Potter, four months ago I’d have died rather than let you see me naked and now look what’s happened. You fucked me and the worse part is, I let you. What’s one more fucking humiliation on top of everything else that’s happened? What the hell were you thinking? I was vulnerable and desperate and you took advantage.”

Potter’s mouth was hanging open in abject horror now, something that Draco noted with grim satisfaction. He looked as if he might be about to say something so Draco plunged onwards.

“I bet you’ll be having a good laugh about that when I’m gone won’t you? The great and glorious saviour of the wizarding world, so fucking fantastic he even manages to get Draco Malfoy to bottom for him. Well you know what Potter? Fuck your games. I’m done!”

“Draco!” If Draco was breathing hard it was absolutely nothing to the way Potter was breathing, fast and ragged as if he might collapse any moment. Draco had the brief passing thought that Potter might be about to start hyperventilating, but he dismissed it, because why the hell did he care if Potter collapsed? It was no less than he deserved.

“Draco, please!” he gasped, when Draco made no move to say anything else. “Where has this come from? It’s not like that at all… I didn’t… You wanted… I mean… Didn’t you…?”

“Oh yes, Potter, I really enjoy being humiliated,” he snapped, fixing the man with the best glare he could muster.

“No, I mean... I didn’t think it was like that at all.” Potter looked suddenly anguished, as if he were about to faint from sheer distress, but Draco was not inclined to cut him any slack.

“I seem to remember telling you very clearly not to do it,” he spat, shoving the other man in the chest again for good measure, and giving a satisfied grimace when he heard Potter’s head bounce of the wall.

“Ow… fuck, Draco!” The impact at least seemed to have calmed his breathing down, now he was rubbing his head, glaring daggers at Draco and when he spoke again, the words were so childish Draco very nearly laughed. “You told me to do it!”

“Yeah right, Potter.” Just because he had very nearly laughed, didn’t mean he was any less angry. “Only when I had no other choice. You knew what you were doing. You manipulated me for your own selfish pleasure. You wanted to stick your cock up my arse and you made damn sure you got your own way. Would you have even stopped if I had said no?”

“Of course I would!” Harry’s eyes widened to the point where Draco thought they couldn’t possibly get any wider. Beneath his angry flush the other man now looked paler even than Draco did, as if all the blood had fled from his face. “Draco, what are you saying?”

And Draco had to relent slightly, because he realised suddenly what he was implying, and that wasn’t really fair. It hadn’t been like that. He was humiliated about it now, but it hadn’t been like that.

“Look, Potter, I’m not some little plaything that you can fuck around with and then throw away when you’re not interested anymore. No one treats me like that and gets away with it. You know what, I’m done.”

He turned and went for the door, stopped again by Potter’s hand on his wrist.

“Draco, please. Stop! Where’s this come from, Draco? I don’t understand.” Potter’s gaze was pleading, begging him to stay and say something more. Draco felt his heart softening, but then he dropped his gaze to the hand on his wrist, controlling him, manipulating him, letting Potter make all the decisions.

“Go fuck yourself, Potter,” he said quietly, and yanked his wrist away from the suddenly unresisting grip, not even bothering to look at the expression on Potter’s face as he summoned Kreacher to escort him upstairs and get him ready for bed.

If he cried himself to sleep later it was only because he was so angry with Potter.

********************

He woke the next morning to the sensation of a hand running through his hair. He’d given a murmur of pleasure and turned into the gesture before he realised that Potter was the only one in the house and that he was angry at Potter.

“Molesting me in my sleep now, Potter?” he snapped, some of the forcefulness dulled by drowsiness. He did manage to jerk his head away though, even as Potter did the same with his hand.

“It’s your birthday, Draco.”

The words were said so softly that Draco nearly missed them, but he didn’t and the realisation made him jerk his eyes open and force away the last of the sleep.

“What?”

“First of June, Draco. Your birthday.”

Draco let his head fall back onto the pillow and his eyes drift closed. He’d rather lost track of the days since he’d been off work and although at first he’d been carefully counting down to the end of the three months he’d ceased to do so somewhere around the fourth week when he’d decided it was just too depressing. He hadn’t even known what date it was today.

“Great, Potter,” he grumbled, rolling over in the bed so he was facing away from Potter, “You woke me up to tell me that? Big deal. No one’s going to have remembered except my parents. I’m sure your friends shower you with presents on your birthday, but mine certainly don’t.”

“I got you something.”

“What?” He rolled back and peered askance at Potter through half shut eyes. “Why would you get me something?”

Potter shrugged. “Because it’s your birthday. And well…” He seemed to be fighting some internal battle. “What you said last night. You were right and I’m sorry. You can consider it an apology present as well as a birthday present. It’s not much, but there aren’t any decent ones in the wizarding world so I thought you might appreciate them.”

Draco, who had no idea what Potter might be referring to, decided that he’d deal better with this whole situation whilst sitting up, which was thankfully a task he could accomplish by himself now he had some movement back in his arms.

“I’ll just leave it here for you.”

By the time he’d managed to sit up, still feeling like this situation was one of the most bizarre he’d ever faced in the entire time he’d been here, Potter had stood up and placed a large package, wrapped in plain blue paper on the bed.

Draco looked at it with as much suspicion as he had looked at Potter earlier and opened his mouth to say something, but Potter had already left.

With nothing else to do he glared resentfully at the wrapped package until he managed to summon the coordination and strength to unwrap it. It wasn’t a particularly easy job, since he had absolutely no grip in his fingers and not very much movement either, but eventually he managed it, though afterwards he would never have admitted that the feat had employed his knees, teeth and even his chin.

Still, it was done now and he was left with a plain brown box with a flip up lid, which thankfully was a lot easier to open than wrapping paper had been. He opened it without much sense of anticipation, because what on earth did Potter know about his tastes?

“Oh, Harry.” He’d breathed the words before he’d even realised it. Inside the box was a pair of running shoes. An obviously expensive muggle pair of running shoes. This is what Harry had been talking about when he’d said it was hard to get decent ones in the wizarding world. It was. Wizards as a rule did not run. Draco had always figured it was probably the propensity towards wearing robes.

“Oh Merlin,” he muttered when he realised that Harry had given him a present even though he’d been a total bastard to him the night before. Not just any present as well. A present that suggested he’d taken his time to think about what Draco might really need and want. The stripe down the side of the shoes was even in Draco’s favourite colour.

The whole thing made him feel completely shit and completely wonderful both at the same time, which was a conflict bad enough to make his insides twist horribly. In the light of day he could admit now that he’d only said the things he had last night because he’d convinced himself that Harry didn’t care; the problem was that in the face of concrete evidence that Harry did care his words seemed both stupid and unnecessarily cruel. Yes, there had been a point when he could have said them and actually meant them, probably after the first time they’d ever had sex, but that point seemed so far in the past that bringing it up now seemed entirely meaningless. He’d lashed out with those words last night simply to hurt Harry; to try and humiliate him, because he felt slighted.

And Harry had reacted by giving him a present.

“Oh fuck,” he said, and then decided that he’d spent enough time sitting in bed muttering to himself and stood up. The shoes were reverently moved to the chair by the dresser and then Draco made his way down the stairs.

He realised halfway down that his heart was beating so hard he could hear the blood rushing through his ears, and he was pretty sure he was blushing, though why he didn’t know. What he did know was that his hands were shaking and it was an effort to just walk, an effort that became too much the moment he entered the kitchen and Harry turned towards him with a look that was full of hope. Draco gave up, ran towards him, flung his arms around him and mashed their lips together. The kiss was sloppy and wet and completely lacking in finesse, but Harry was returning it and that was all that mattered.

At least it was all that mattered until Harry pushed him away, peered at him with eyes that were still shiny with hope and said, “Do you like them?”

“No, Potter, I hate them.” Draco rolled his eyes, putting enough sarcasm into the words that even thick-headed Harry couldn’t fail to notice it. Stupid Harry. Wonderful Harry. Draco took one look at the pleased smile creeping across Harry’s face and mashed their lips together again.

The kiss was no less sloppy than before but it settled down after a few seconds and Draco was rather enjoying it until Harry pushed him away for a second time.

“Draco, what are you doing?” he asked, and his look of surprise was enough to stop Draco’s reply of kissing you, you idiot, falling automatically from his lips. “I thought we agreed no more kissing?”

“No, you said no more kissing,” Draco said, rolling his eyes and wondering how anyone could be quite so stubborn as Harry, “I never agreed to anything. And since it’s my birthday I think it’s my turn to get what I want for once and that means kissing. Right now.” He raised an eyebrow in invitation, sighing when Harry just looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Come on, Potter, you can’t give me a present like that and then go around acting all coy. You’ve had your cock up my arse so now you can damn well kiss me.”

“Yeah, about that…” His words seemed to have had the opposite effect to what he’d hoped. Instead of kissing him Harry was actually drawing back, letting his arms drop away from where they’d entwined themselves in Draco’s hair and stepping out of the embrace. “I really am sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t know.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Harry, I didn’t mean what I said.” If he was honest Draco would have been willing to say anything right now to get Harry to do what he wanted.

Just for a second Harry looked hopeful, but then he gave Draco a single, hard look and his own face tightened. “Yes, you did,” he said firmly, “You meant it. You’re just saying you didn’t now because you’re in a good mood. I humiliated you and I didn’t need to. All I can say is that I didn’t realise I was doing it, or at least not how much I was doing it and I’m sorry.”

He turned away and sat down at the kitchen table, playing with the handle of a cup and refusing to meet Draco’s eyes.

“Harry.” He knew that sounded whiny. He didn’t really care. At least not until Harry shot him another look and he realised he was going to actually have to face what he’d said if he wanted Harry to move past it. “Look, Harry,” he said, trying again in a more normal tone of voice, “You’re right, I was humiliated, the whole situation was humiliating, but that isn’t your fault. Last night I was just…” a sudden burst of inspiration struck him, “emotional. I’d had a hard day, I said things I didn’t mean.”

“You did mean them,” Harry insisted, “Otherwise you would never have said them.” He dropped his head into his hands so Draco could no longer even see the profile of his face. “I feel like a terrible person.”

“Oh Merlin, Harry.” Draco shuffled his feet and looked up at the ceiling. Who would have thought The Saviour of the Wizarding World could be so damn sensitive? “You aren’t a terrible person and I didn’t mean most of what I said. Yes, you were a bit of a shit to me at the start and yes, you did humiliate me a bit but I can’t honestly say I’d have been any nicer if the roles were reversed.” He paused and then conceded, “Actually I’d probably have been even worse. You’ve more than made up for anything bad you did. If those things were ever true, they certainly aren’t now.” He paused again and looked at Harry, who was now regarding him with a slight frown. “Oh come on, Potter, you aren’t going to make me apologise are you?”

There was a snort of laughter at that, which Draco was at least relieved enough to hear that it made him grin back without really meaning to. He wasn’t entirely pleased that he’d had to go so far along the way to admitting he was wrong. It wasn’t at all a state of affairs he was used to.

Harry’s laughter died away quickly though and he regarded Draco more seriously. “But you said… you said…” Whatever Draco had said seemed to be causing Harry difficulty because he licked his lips and cast his eyes back down to the table. “You said… you implied, that I’d forced myself on you.” The eyes lifted long enough to give Draco a single, desperate look and then were hidden again behind Harry’s hands.

“Oh come on, Potter,” Draco said, more exasperated than anything now, “You do realise that if you force me to admit I like you fucking me I’ll feel even more humiliated?”

The hands dropped away and when Harry turned to look at him his jaw had dropped open too.

“”So you did like it?” he said, with rather more amazement than Draco thought necessary.

“Oh fuck off, Potter.” There was no malice behind the words but Draco did roll his eyes again as Harry stood up and pulled him into his arms again, regarding him seriously.

“Even if you do like it I shouldn’t have started doing it in the first place,” he said, “You did tell me you didn’t want me to.”

“Oh for goodness sake, Potter, I said that once, maybe twice. And when the hell do you listen to anything I say anyway?” Draco eyed his lips, wondering if it was safe to kiss them again now. Really he didn’t give a shit about this conversation or Potter’s odd little issues. He had been in a heightened emotional state last night and he had said some things he didn’t mean and even if some of them had a slight truth to them he really didn’t think any of it was worth making into a big issue. At least not anymore. “Can we please move on now?” he asked, deciding it was safer than just leaning forwards, which was what he really wanted to do.

“You mean to kissing?” Harry asked, his eyes starting to gleam in a way that let Draco know he’d won.

“Yes, to kissing,” he said, sighing to himself and realising he was going to have to wait this one out.

“When do I listen to anything you say, Draco?”

“Right now,” Draco said firmly, “Kiss me.”

And he did. Their lips met and their tongues twisted together and Draco found himself suddenly very aware of Harry’s taste on his lips and Harry’s scent in his nostrils and the way Harry’s hand felt hot as flame as it hooked around the back of his neck, holding his head in place.

They kissed until Draco was dizzy with the sheer intensity of it, until he forgot that he was kissing his old rival, forgot that this was not going to make the top ten list of most sensible things he’d ever done. He was drowning in sensation and he wasn’t sure how he’d carry on living after this kiss, because nothing else would ever sustain him like this. No one else would ever kiss him the way Harry was kissing him right now.

Of course it had to end though. When Draco’s arms, wrapped securely round Harry’s back, started to tremble with the effort of keeping them there he was forced to drop them, first to Harry’s waist and then to his sides. As he did so the kiss slowed, until Harry pulled away, dropping one last closed mouth kiss on his lips.

“Better?” Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow as Draco lent his forehead against his.

“Shut up, Potter,” he grumbled. It was one thing to get his own way, it was quite another to have Harry think he was in control again. He manoeuvred his arm up to Harry’s chest and pushed the other man against the wall, crowding him with his body so he couldn’t move. “Just so you know, Potter,” he hissed, bending forwards so his lips were against Harry’s ear, “When my arms are properly better I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never want to stick your cock up anyone’s arse ever again.”

To his surprise Harry actually shuddered, and Draco smirked against his skin. “You like that idea, Potter,” he murmured, “I always knew I was right about you.”

“Right about what?” Harry asked, though Draco thought his voice sounded hazy, as if he were speaking from a long way away.

“Your insatiable need for sex,” Draco purred, allowing himself another thin smirk against Harry’s neck before he nipped lightly at the skin. “Who would have thought it?”

“Whatever, Draco.” Apparently his teeth had quite an effect on Harry for he whimpered and dropped his head to one side, giving Draco better access to his neck. Draco continued his attentions for a few moments and then stopped. Almost immediately Harry opened his eyes and looked at him speculatively.

“What are you doing, Draco?” he asked, still sounding a little dazed. Draco shrugged, because he hadn’t really got an answer for that one. The urge to touch Harry, to kiss him, to hold him and never let him go was almost overwhelming, and the worst part was he had no idea where it was coming from. Harry was… he was… What was he? They’d long since crossed the line from acquaintances who tolerated each other into something much more, but how much more? And how much more did he really want?

Draco sighed and let his eyes drop closed, unwilling to really face an answer to that question right now.

Luckily Harry didn’t seem inclined to press the point.

“I should do your cream for you,” he said, after a moment where he simply looked at Draco thoughtfully, “I didn’t suggest it this morning because I thought you’d refuse, but we really should do it.”

Yes, Draco though, he would have refused Harry in a heartbeat this morning because he couldn’t let a man who didn’t care about him touch him, but a man who’d bought him one of the most thoughtful gifts he’d ever received? Well he thought he could probably let a man like that massage him, even if he had no idea what said man was supposed to be to him.

Various Random Ramblings

2015-03-07T22:45:15Z

I sent the final fic for a prompt that I've claimed to my beta today so I'm feeling quite accomplished. Now I just have to decide what to do about That Picture. I desperately want to write a fic for it but none of the prompts are really calling out to me. I love elements of a lot of them but none of them seem to want to form a proper story in my head. I'm thinking I might just self prompt and my prompt will literally be "That Picture and the caption it was originally given."

It's such an amazing picture that the moment I saw it I started writing the text to go with it in my head, even before the fest was announced. There isn't much back story to what I want to write, or indeed much follow on story, but the words for that scene just want to be written. Is that too boring? Is it too much like what's already there? I have no idea, but I might just write it anyway and see if what comes out is worth working with.

In completely separate news I read Draco Malfoy: Toilet Supremo by who_la_hoop the other day and I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at a fanfic in my life. It's completely hilarious, fantastically well written and just altogether completely wonderful. I know it's several months old and I'm extremely late to the party, but I just couldn't let it pass without a mention.

Finally to complete the randomness I was tidying up my LJ today and remembered that last time I delved into writing fanfic, which was several years ago, I wasn't actually completely useless at writing one-shots. I managed to produce Memories, which despite recent success with one-shots still holds the title of the shortest thing I've ever written. My mission now is to best that. I feel a fic coming on...

The Sounds of Sibilance

2015-02-27T22:10:07Z

Title: The Sounds of Sibilance
Author: create_serenity
Prompt Number: 22 submitted by candamira
Kink Showcased: Parseltongue
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco really wished he’d never suggested buying that bloody snake.
Warnings/Content Notes: None really.
Word Count: 5786
Author's Notes: This is my second entry to hp_kinkfest.
Once again thank you to my beta avrildulac who came up with another amazing title for my fic.
Thank you to candamira for the prompt as well, I’ve been wanting to write a Parseltongue fic for a while. I’m sorry for the parts of the prompt I’ve missed out, there was honestly a plan when I started writing this, but somewhere along the line it got completely lost and the fic ended up more like my other entry than I wanted it too. I hope you still enjoy it!
Available on AO3 here: The Sounds of Sibilance

The Sounds of Sibilance

Draco really wished he’d never suggested buying that bloody snake.

It had all started when he and Harry had carried out the raid on a small group who’d been illegally breeding and selling magical creatures. There had been several rare snakes in the collection and Harry had used his gift at Parseltongue to find out all the snakes could tell him about the smuggling ring before the Aurors had launched their attack. They’d burst into the back room, wands drawn, curses ready on their lips as they took out the gang in one of the most perfectly coordinated attacks the Ministry had ever seen.

After that, Draco had made the rather brilliant suggestion that they should actually buy a small snake of their own and use it to case out locations where criminals were hiding out prior to their raids. It was brilliant because he and Harry now had a huge advantage over the other Auror partners and, as such, were more successful in their cases.

Unfortunately, there had been certain, unexpected consequences. Consequences like the fact that Harry seemed to have really taken a liking to the snake, wearing it round his neck or letting it twine around his arm when they went out on missions, which Draco found made him look even more rakishly attractive than usual. Draco knew Harry wasn’t trying, but with his pale skin, startling green eyes that were no longer hidden behind glasses, half undone robes, and messy, slightly too long, black hair, Harry looked every inch the handsome, bad-boy Auror about to unleash his power on an unsuspecting criminal underworld. And now he had a fucking snake on his arm, just to complete the picture.

It really wasn’t fair. Draco had floppy hair too; it wasn’t his fault if he looked all soft and well-groomed, and he had a much better sense of style than the Boy Who Lived and he was a former Death Eater, with a scar on his left arm to prove it, even if he wasn’t exactly proud of the fact. Why then, since he’d taken up Auror work after the war, did the whole world seem determined to treat him with a sort of cautious courtesy, as if he wasn’t really interesting enough to warrant anything else? Why did Harry get to be the bad boy?

Draco sighed and removed his reading glasses as Harry approached the glass tank where the snake lived when they were in the office. Harry had laughed the first time he’d worn his glasses and gone on about the wonders of Muggle contact lenses, but Draco found the idea of sticking small bits of plastic into his eyes so utterly horrifying that Harry had just laughed at him some more and then thankfully dropped the whole topic.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose as Harry started conversing with the snake. Draco had no idea what all those sibilant sounds meant, but he had quickly discovered that this was another huge disadvantage to having the snake in the office. Harry speaking Parseltongue was one of the hottest things Draco had ever heard. So hot, that he could never quite bring himself to do the sensible thing and flee from the office when it happened.

If he’d known it would turn him on like this he’d never have suggested getting the snake in the first place. He absolutely had not known just how hot it would be to hear Harry hissing away at the thing. Absolutely not. He definitely hadn’t taken part in the most perfectly coordinated raid the Ministry had ever seen whilst sporting a rather large erection.

********************

It was fairly obvious to Harry that Draco found something quite fascinating about his ability to speak Parseltongue. It hadn’t escaped his notice just how eager Draco was for them to get the snake in the first place, nor how he always suggested Harry bring it along on missions, even when there could be no conceivable reason to bother.

Not that Harry minded. The snake, who called himself Birm, was small enough to twine around Harry’s arm, and never seemed fazed by flying curses or loud noises.

Draco was certainly fazed by Harry’s gift at Parseltongue though, and Harry was beginning to strongly suspect that the fascination was sexual in nature. Draco Malfoy undoubtedly had a kink for Parseltongue. Harry’s new favourite way of winding him up was to converse with Birm at inopportune moments, like right now, when they had a meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt in five minutes and Draco would need to hide the rather large problem Harry was helping to create.

He hissed amiably with Birm; the conversation was nothing interesting, just pleasantries and small talk, but since Draco couldn’t actually understand, it didn’t really matter. Harry could say whatever he liked.

Actually there was something in that thought. Harry had considered pushing things just a little further before, wondering just how much he could get away with, and today the look on Draco’s face was too much for him to resist.

A single glance towards his usually well-groomed and unflappable partner had revealed flushed cheeks and ruffled hair, as well as wide, horrified grey eyes. How was Harry supposed to resist? He liked Draco, they worked well together as partners and he was fairly sure Draco liked him, but that didn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t take every opportunity to annoy the hell out of each other, and causing Draco to lose his composure was the ultimate victory for Harry.

He exchanged a final few words with Birm, and then began to address Draco, though he kept his eyes firmly on the wall just behind Birm’s tank, in a way he knew would drive Draco mad with wondering exactly who he was talking to.

“This is interesting isn’t it Draco? I could say whatever the hell I wanted right now and you’d never know. I could call you a prat, or a wanker, or anything else I could come up with. I’m not going to because you aren’t really a wanker anymore, but I know what I am going to do. Let’s talk about all those weird little things you do that you think no one else notices. I notice, Draco. I don’t say anything but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice.

“I’ve seen how you always write your reports with your left hand when a mission’s gone well, and your right hand if it’s gone badly.

“I’ve seen you spend longer than any sane person would do arranging your files in some weird, quirky filing system that no one else in the world would ever understand.

“I watch how you always twirl that one lock of hair through your fingers when you’re thinking and how you always try to pretend you aren’t doing it whenever anyone looks your way.

“I’ve even seen you eat the sugar cubes straight out the jar in the kitchen when you think no one’s looking. Sugar cubes, Draco. Who the hell eats sugar cubes? And now I know something else, Draco.”

Harry could hear Draco’s breathing, fast and ragged behind him, and it was too much to resist. He turned, striding towards Draco’s desk and leaning over, planting his hands either side of the report Draco was supposed to be writing and bringing their faces into close proximity.

“You love it when I speak Parseltongue. It turns you on. It makes you hard, doesn’t it, Draco?”

Draco let out a moan then, one so needy and desperate and just plain filthy that Harry felt his own cock suddenly become very interested.

Merlin, he needed to stop this right now before he went too far. Teasing Draco was one thing, getting a full on erection in front of him at work was quite another. He jerked back suddenly, blinking a little.

“Hurry up with that report, Draco,” he said, as if he’d merely accidentally used Parseltongue out of habit, “We’re due in Kingsley’s office in two minutes.”

His eyes lingered on Draco just long enough to see the other man blink and come back to himself. Then Harry turned abruptly and hurried back to his own desk, sinking gratefully into his seat and deciding that Kingsley would just have to wait until he managed to drag his thoughts away from that moan long enough for his erection to subside.

********************

Merlin, this had to be the most bloody boring mission on the face of the earth. Why had they been sent on this one? The only interesting thing that had happened so far had been when Harry had walked into the coffee table in the dark and seriously bruised his shin. That had kept Draco entertained for a good five minutes whilst Harry had hopped and cursed and generally been a complete baby about the whole thing.

That had been an hour ago and it had been only slightly longer than that since Harry had released their snake into the air vents of the hotel with instructions to locate the room where the miscreants were supposedly staying. The problem was it was a big hotel and no one was entirely sure this even was the base of operations anyway. It was entirely possible they could be here all night and nothing would come of it.

“I’m bored,” Draco whined when he realised he’d exhausted all other options for entertainment. They’d finally managed to locate the Muggle light switch, which meant they were no longer stumbling around in the dark and Harry was unlikely to have any more accidents.

“We could watch television,” Harry suggested, gesturing to an odd looking black screen on the wall that seemed to show nothing of interest. Draco shot him a look of contempt and was rather alarmed when Harry gave him a rather wicked smirk in return. The fact that it suited his accidental bad-boy look perfectly did nothing for Draco’s imagination. Nothing.

“I could entertain you,” Harry purred – actually purred. It was almost as erotic as the hissing.

“Unless you’re planning on falling over again, I highly doubt you could,” Draco sniffed, looking away and trying to push all thoughts of Harry speaking Parseltongue out of his mind. Unfortunately the effort was completely wasted when a moment later Harry started his sibilant whispers again.

He whipped his head towards Harry so fast that he winced at the pain in his neck, which at least distracted him from the way his heart rate had ramped up and the way his cock was already paying much more attention to the situation.

“Honestly, Potter, I have no idea why you think I’d be at all entertained by you hissing gibberish at me,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest and trying to look nonchalant. He thought he’d managed it until Harry switched back to English.

“I was just saying, we did pose as a gay couple on honeymoon in order to get this lovely hotel suite,” he made a sweeping gesture to indicate what Draco had to admit was a very well appointed set of rooms. “We may need to do certain things in order to keep up the charade.”

If Draco had been drinking he’d have almost certainly choked, as it was he made a very undignified spluttering noise and clutched onto the back of a chair for support.

“I have no idea what your depraved ideas of entertainment involve, Potter, but I’m certainly not going to partake in them.”

Harry regarded him mildly with brilliant green eyes until Draco felt himself reddening for no particular reason. “Shame,” Harry said, and turned away as if Draco had merely refused an offer of tea.

Draco was almost relieved when Birm returned a few minutes later, though really, he should have known better than to greet the snake’s arrival with relief. Snakes meant Parseltongue and Parseltongue meant that Draco was forced to sit down very quickly and wish that this wasn’t a Muggle hotel because Muggle clothes were completely useless for hiding certain problems.

His only comfort was that Harry informed him Birm was cold and hungry and had immediately disappeared into the dining area of the suite of rooms, presumably to cast warming charms and feed Birm whatever the hell it was that he ate. Draco had resolutely refused to take any notice of such things after Harry’s initial hints that it might involve small mammals.

Comforting as it was that Harry couldn’t see him at the current moment, it was hardly comforting to realise that he could still hear Harry hissing away to the snake in the other room, and that it sounded like the most seductive noise Draco had ever heard in his life. The hissing travelled through his body like fingers trailing down his spine, until he was aware of nothing but lust and the sultry sound of sibilants that seemed to slip from Harry’s tongue straight to his senses.

He moaned involuntarily and let a hand just brush over his crotch, trying to subtly rearrange himself so that when Harry inevitably came back the evidence would be somewhat less visible. Beyond the swirl of arousal was the vague thought that running off to the bathroom whilst Harry was otherwise occupied might be a good idea. Getting some relief for his little problem might at least stop it reoccurring for a few hours.

The only flaw to that plan was that he’d be wanking with Harry right there in the next room and that was not something Draco ever wanted to indulge in. The idea of Harry somehow overhearing or even just working out what he was doing was so abhorrent that it very nearly undid the effects of the Parseltongue.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to the fact that Harry was returning and he shifted his leg, trying to ensure that his crotch definitely was not visible. Luckily Harry seemed more interested in messing with the thing he called a television and when Harry said Birm would need a couple of hours rest before exploring the rest of the hotel, Draco consented to watch it with him, which actually turned out to be a lot more interesting than he’d initially thought.

********************

Three hours later Draco was in agony. The snake had appeared again, crawling up Harry’s leg so it could twine around his arm, apparently refreshed and in a very chatty mood, judging by the amount Harry was hissing at it. The whole thing was torture: sweet, agonising torture.

Draco gritted his teeth and clenched his hands, determined that he would not, under any circumstances, groan, or close his eyes, or do anything to show exactly what affect this was having on him. It really wasn’t helping that Harry had glanced up at him a few seconds ago, hair falling in his eyes in an utterly charming way and given him a grin of such playful wickedness that Draco was almost convinced Harry knew anyway.

The hissing continued, and Draco kept his eyes fixed firmly on the Muggle television, where figures moved soundlessly now Harry had somehow silenced the thing. He would not look at Harry. He would not react to those wickedly tantalising sounds coming from his mouth. He was Draco Malfoy. He was an Auror. He was in control.

He realised his eyes had dropped closed and forced them open again, hoping that the wet patch he could feel inside his boxers would not seep through to his trousers.

Stupid Muggle clothes. Stupid bloody snake.

“Come on, Malfoy, get up.”

Merlin! He’d closed his eyes again and now Harry was standing right by his chair looking down on him with Birm hanging off his wrist as if this was perfectly normal. Draco flushed, and tried to rotate his legs to keep his crotch out of Potter’s eye line.

“Why?” he asked, his voice raspier than he would have liked. He cleared his throat and then tried to pretend he hadn’t.

“Time to put Birm back in the vents,” Harry informed him.

Draco scowled, “What do you need me for?”

“Come on, Draco, take a little interest in the mission, won’t you? The snake was your idea. Unless you think we should get rid of him?”

Damn it. Harry always got him with that one. He was pretty sure Harry was calling his bluff, but his subconscious would never allow him to test the theory. He shot to his feet and followed Harry into the bedroom, hoping that by some miracle the other man wouldn’t notice the very obvious tent in his trousers.

Once he’d made it to the bedroom where the vent was situated, he immediately sat down on the bed whilst Harry fussed about positioning the chair he’d climbed on earlier back under the vent. Only when Draco realised that sitting on the bed might look more suggestive than he intended, did he jump to his feet and instead position himself so he was standing well out of Harry’s view.

“Hold the chair, Draco?” Harry had inflected it like a question, but it wasn’t really and refusing would only lead to an argument. Figuring that Harry’s attention was distracted enough by the snake and the vent and the act of climbing, Draco moved forwards and held the chair. It was only slightly unfortunate that it put Harry’s crotch right in his eye line, though it was more unfortunate when Draco accidentally glanced in that direction and realised that he wasn’t the only one around here with a problem. Judging by the bulge in Harry’s pants he was either half hard or just had a really tiny, fully erect penis. For a moment Draco hoped it was the former, because the latter would really spoil some of his favourite fantasies, then he remembered that he didn’t have any fantasies about Harry and firmly told himself that the latter was a much more preferable explanation. At least he’d be able to laugh at him for that.

Unfortunately, Harry chose that moment to look down and shoot him a grin of such utter depravity that Draco was left under no illusion that Harry was suffering from any problems in the size department.

Damn it, Harry had caught him looking and didn’t even seem to care. Draco felt his cock twitch, and then start to throb as Harry hissed a final few words at the snake and sent it on its way.

********************

Harry watched Birm’s progress down the air vent for longer than he really needed to, hoping that his nerves weren’t showing. Draco had been acting oddly for hours now, he’d even consented to watch the television without so much as a cursory protest, and that definitely was not normal.

There was only one conclusion Harry could come to, and that was that Parseltongue had a much greater affect on Draco than he’d ever anticipated.

Now he was standing here, half aroused and half horrified, not only by the very obvious tent in Draco’s trousers, but by his own rather lewd behaviour. What had he been thinking letting Draco see what was going on in his own trousers? And where the hell had that grin come from? Why the hell was he so turned on by the idea of Draco getting turned on?

Actually that was a ridiculous question; of course he knew the answer – Draco was bloody gorgeous and apparently rather kinky. It was not a combination that Harry had any defences against. By the time he’d climbed down from the chair he had made a decision. This was too good a chance to pass up.

“Now what?” asked Draco, before Harry could put any sort of plan into action. He was scowling in a way that was obviously meant to distract Harry from other things about him but it was rather too late for that.

“Television?” Harry suggested, raising his eyebrows and not really meaning it.

“I’m bored of your stupid Muggle entertainment, Potter. This is the most boring case we’ve ever been on.” Draco had folded his arms and was pouting now. It was too good to resist.

“I’ve told you I’ll entertain you in other ways,” Harry said, shooting Draco his best smirk before he reached out, grabbed his arm and pushed his chest against the wall, briefly reflecting that this was the best use he’d ever put his Auror training to in all the years since he’d passed the tests.

“What the fuck, Potter?” Draco squeaked, but though Harry knew he’d had Auror training too and was well aware of how to get out of the hold, he seemed less inclined to put that training to use. Harry lost no time in pressing his chest up against Draco’s back and pressing home the advantage.

“We’re on our honeymoon, remember?” he whispered straight into his ear, “And I can think of a few ways we can keep each other entertained.”

“Honestly, Potter, I’ve told you: I’m not interested in your depraved forms of entertainment.”

“And yet you aren’t trying to escape,” Harry whispered triumphantly, bracing himself when, as he knew it would, that statement resulted in Draco suddenly shoving backwards away from the wall.

“I don’t think so, Draco,” he hissed, and was more than a little pleased when Draco froze in place, “Shirts off I think.”

It was easy enough to wave his wand, vanishing the cheap Muggle shirts the Auror Department had issued to them as disguises, and then after a moment’s thought he tossed the wand onto the bed, deciding that he probably wouldn’t need it so long as he kept speaking Parseltongue.

“What are you doing, Harry?” Draco’s voice brought him back to the moment, and Harry was surprised by the sudden vulnerability in it. On instinct he pushed Draco forwards again, forcing him to raise his hands and brace against the wall, whilst he curved his arms around Draco’s chest and brought their bare skin together.

The hiss Draco let out had Harry wondering vaguely whether he could actually speak Parseltongue as well, but then he realised it was nonsense and instead concentrated on running his hands over Draco’s skin and relishing the heat he could feel emanating from the pale body in front of him.

“So perfect, Draco,” he hissed, planting soft kisses down the side of Draco’s neck. He arched in response and whimpered softly. “You’re so beautiful, Draco, so perfect. Look how pale and perfect you are.” He let the fingers of one hand trail lightly up Draco’s side to his shoulder, then dance up his neck until he could bury them in that tantalisingly soft hair and tip Draco’s head backwards. “So soft, so bloody perfect,” he hissed quietly, knowing Draco had no idea what he was saying, “You make me feel like a walking catastrophe. How can you be so bloody perfect?”

Without really meaning to he pressed forwards again, pushing his rapidly filling cock against Draco’s arse. Even through the material of their trousers the action made him hiss in a way that was nothing to do with Parseltongue, and only the slight whimper from Draco made him feel better about the loss of control.

He resumed his kisses, trailing them across the back of Draco’s neck and on to his shoulder blades, before moving back up and around to his ear.

“Merlin, I want to kiss you properly,” he hissed, “How would you react to that, Draco? Would it break the spell if I did it? I want to know how you taste. I want to know what it’s like to kiss those pale, pink lips of yours.” His arm was back around Draco’s chest, holding him firmly, but the other hand had crept up, tracing the line of Draco’s jaw, working towards those lips, until finally he was able to just brush his fingertips across them. Draco whimpered and then reacted before Harry could snatch his hand away, sucking one of the fingers into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it as if it had been his plan all along.

“Merlin, Draco!” Harry had used English without thinking about it, but Draco hummed contentedly anyway and swirled his tongue some more, leaving Harry to frantically work at the fastenings of both their trousers with one hand and wish he hadn’t tossed his wand away quite so flippantly.

He managed it eventually, and took a moment to gaze admiringly at Draco’s cock, hard and already leaking, looking almost painfully aroused as it stood proud against his stomach. Draco gave his finger one last lick and released it

“I thought you were going to entertain me?” he said, in a way that made Harry think he was going for nonchalant but which actually missed it by several miles.

“Oh, I can entertain you,” he hissed, forcing Draco closer to the wall. He rubbed his finger, now slippery with Draco’s own saliva, briefly against Draco’s hole, and then, when Draco thrust back, asking for more, moved it away, instead pushing Draco’s arse cheeks apart and pressing his cock between them.

The sensation was almost too much. Draco’s arse was soft and warm and hugged his cock perfectly. “You have a beautiful arse, Draco,” Harry hissed and flexed his hips so that his cock slid between the cheeks, painting his pre-come over Draco’s tight hole.

“Feels good doesn’t it,” he murmured as Draco whimpered and clenched his fingers against the flat wall, as if he wanted something to grab hold of. “I could come just fucking your arse like this, Draco, if it wasn’t for the fact that it’d feel much better with me inside you.”

Merlin, the way Draco was whimpering with every hiss and every thrust was really driving Harry to distraction. A small part of his brain was questioning how the hell he had the confidence to act like this, but the rest of him was so caught up in the moment, and felt so safe behind the disguise of Parseltongue that he really couldn’t be bothered listening to it.

He flexed a few more times, rubbing his cock between Draco’s arse, savouring the warmth and the soft glide of flesh until Draco took matters into his own hands and clamped his muscles around Harry’s cock just as he thrust and Harry realised that if he didn’t stop right now he was going to come all over Draco’s back.

He pulled away reluctantly and cast a wandless lubrication charm on his fingers, immediately replacing his cock with them, coating Draco’s hole in lube, rubbing and pushing until he was relaxed enough to allow first one, and then two fingers inside.

Harry pushed and twisted until a silent jerk from Draco let him know he’d found his prostate.

“Does that feel good, Draco?” he hissed, and was rewarded with a moan and another jerk of Draco’s hips. He grinned to himself and moulded his body against Draco’s, working his fingers in and out of Draco’s arse, pushing against his prostate each time and starting to kiss his way along Draco’s shoulders again. Kisses turned into licks, which turned into bites, and then when Draco moaned, Harry latched onto his pulse point and sucked until Draco was writhing uncontrollably and his skin was covered in purple bruises.

“Fuck, Potter, get your fingers out my arse right now,” Draco growled, and Harry obeyed when he realised that his own cock was throbbing painfully, and that if he didn’t get it inside Draco soon he might explode.

Another wandless lubrication charm and then he was pushing inside, unable to pause to give Draco time to adjust, completely consumed by the heat and the tightness and the sheer astonishing feeling of being buried inside Draco’s arse. Draco. His Auror partner.

“I’m fucking my Auror partner, in a hotel room, whilst we’re on a mission,” he muttered against the back of Draco’s neck, forced to pause by the bizarreness of the situation.

“No you aren’t, Potter,” Draco gasped harshly, “You’re standing there with your cock up my arse doing fuck all when you should be pounding me into the wall. Move. And talk to me damn it.”

It took Harry a moment to work out that last part, but then he grinned and pulled his cock nearly all the way out before slamming it all the way back in, eliciting a grunt of pleasure from both of them. He repeated the movement, adjusting his angle until he found the spot that made Draco not just grunt but actually yell in pleasure.

They found a rhythm quickly after that, with Draco braced against the wall and Harry’s hands on his hips, both pushing and shoving and thrusting, the room filled with their moans and gasps, until Harry remembered that there was something else he could do and leaned forwards.

“You have the perfect arse Draco, so tight, so hot. Feels fucking amazing,” he hissed, earning him a whimper from Draco.

“Fuck, Harry, harder. More,” he gasped, and reached for his own cock. Harry let him get his fingers wrapped around the shaft before he knocked the hand aside and grabbed onto the wrist, pinning Draco’s hand against the wall.

“None of that, Draco,” he hissed against his ear, adjusting his rhythm as the new angle made it harder to thrust. “One day I might let you stick that magnificent cock up my arse, but right now you’re going to come without either of us touching it.”

Draco whimpered again and glanced at him over his shoulder, an action which made Harry completely lose his rhythm. Draco’s usually perfect hair was a mess, his pale skin was flushed and his eyes had a wild glint that Harry had never seen before, even in the midst of their most tense assignments. Harry groaned, released the wrist and pulled Draco flush against him, even as he pushed them so close to the wall that Draco had to turn his head and press his cheek to the plaster.

“So fucking beautiful, Draco. So perfect,” he hissed into his ear, altering his thrusts again and snaking one hand up to grab at Draco’s hair and yank his head backwards, exposing the unmarked side of his pale neck. He kissed it wildly, the skin feeling like fire beneath his lips, and he thrust and thrust, his arm locked in place as Draco squirmed and writhed against the wall. “I want you to come for me, Draco. Come for me and scream my name.”

Draco made a noise that sounded almost pained, and Harry felt his whole body go tense.

“That’s right, come for me, Draco,” he hissed and Draco made the noise again and came hard, painting the wall with his come, gasping and moaning and Harry picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking Draco through his orgasm, seeking his own release.

“Oh fuck, yes, Harry, fuck!” Draco’s hips jerked so hard Harry almost lost his grip, but he managed to thrust once more into the delicious tightness of Draco’s arse and felt himself fall over the edge, his own climax ripping through his body. He had no idea whether he was speaking in English or Parseltongue but he babbled Draco’s name and clutched at him hard enough to bruise until the high faded and left him trembling and weak, unable to support his own weight.

Draco wasn’t much help, he staggered, tried to catch himself on the wall, and then fell back against Harry, causing them both to stumble and fall gracelessly to the floor. Even as they fell, and Harry felt their bodies part in a gush of sticky fluid, he had the presence of mind to pull Draco into his arms so that he landed flat on his back with Draco clutched to his chest.

“Fuck!” he swore as his head hit the carpet a little harder than he would have liked. He was still half dazed by pleasure, but the impact brought back a burst of reality and forced the words, what the fuck have I just done? to the forefront of his mind.

He blinked and gazed up at Draco. The man looked thoroughly debauched, with flushed skin and glazed eyes, and platinum blond hair that made him look like some sort of perfect fallen angel. Harry suspected that next to him he simply looked like a horrible sweaty mess. Trust Draco to still look fantastic after being fucked against a wall.

********************

The best thing to do, Draco thought, would be to pretend that he hadn’t completely lost his mind just because Harry had hissed into his ear. He would pretend that he was in control, that he knew what was going on, that he hadn’t just let Harry fuck him in such a depraved and uncouth manner up against the wall of a hotel room.

“Really, Potter,” he said, trying to sound as haughty as possible, though he was sure he didn’t look it. “If I’d known you were that desperate to fuck me I’m sure I could have relieved you some time ago.”

He wasn’t precisely sure his words had the effect he was hoping for. Harry just looked at him as if he’d gone mental, which really wasn’t helping his state of mind. Harry looked thoroughly and completely fucked, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes practically glowing, his skin coated with a sheen of sweat that made him look like some sort of fucking sex god. It really wasn’t fair. Draco was pretty sure he just looked a complete mess.

All the more reason to take back the advantage the only way he knew how.

“How long do you think we’ve got until Birm comes back?” he asked.

“An hour,” said Harry, after a brief pause in which he seemed to be staring at Draco’s lips and his eyes looked a bit unfocused.

“An hour?” Draco said thoughtfully. ”That’s quite a long time.”

He dipped his head towards Harry so they were only inches apart and the other man gazed at him warily.

“I can think of plenty of ways to fill an hour,” Draco murmured. Harry gave him another of those looks that suggested he’d gone completely mental and Draco frowned. He needed to wipe that look off Harry’s face as soon as possible, and there was only one way he could think of to do it.

He lunged forwards and slammed his lips against Harry’s, plundering his mouth with his tongue and not even caring when their teeth clacked together. He simply tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

“This time, I’m going to be the one fucking you,” he hissed when he finally pulled away and since Harry raised no objection, he did.

THIS ART

2015-02-22T13:13:04Z

I don't like H/D art. I never really have. This, however, goes way beyond the word 'like' and into the realm of something so incredible that it defies explanation.

Link.

Seriously, go spend the rest of your day staring at it (and then prompt/enter the fest). There can be no other reaction to such mind-blowing awesomeness.

Time line
21st February - Fest opens for Prompting
25th February - Fest opens for Sign-ups
5th April - Submissions Due
9th - 15th April - All Submissions Posted at hd_remix.

Kinkfest Entry: Worth The Risk

2015-02-10T20:02:58Z

Title: Worth The Risk
Author: create_serenity
Prompt Number: 24 submitted by birdsofshore
Kink Showcased: Nearly getting caught
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco has developed an addiction to risky wanking and he particularly likes to indulge at work. Harry really needs to know what’s going on.
Warnings/Content Notes: Well, you’re expecting filthy smut, right? Slightly dub-con I guess, for a very short amount of time. I don’t think any other warnings really apply.
Word Count: 5919
Author's Notes: Thanks to my amazing beta avrildulac who ironed out all the problems and restored my faith in what I had written. This is my first ever entry into any sort of fest and my first one that includes any sort of kink. I hope I’ve done the prompt at least a little bit of justice.
Available on AO3 here (optional): Worth The Risk

Worth The Risk

The prat was up to something again. Harry could tell. He had that look in his eyes and that smirk on his lips.

Something was going on. Harry was determined to find out what.

********************

Draco was starting to feel seriously fucked up. Why the hell had he started this? Why didn’t he stop?

Fuck it, he knew the answer to the last question. It felt too damn good.

There was no orgasm like the orgasm you weren’t supposed to be having. There was no thrill like the thrill of being caught.

Of course he didn’t want to be caught; that wasn’t the point. The thrill was all in the fact that he could be caught. That someone might walk in any moment and see him with his cock in his hand, wanking himself hard and fast, pre-come glistening under his fingers, eyes closed, breath coming in heaving pants as he sought out the heady heights of orgasm.

Sometimes he wondered if it was worth the risk. Then he’d come and in that moment he couldn’t really care less.

He was addicted. He couldn’t stop.

********************

Whatever it was he was doing, he was doing it now. Harry knew it. Draco had slipped out supposedly to get the meeting room ready for the afternoon briefing that Head Auror Yardley held every Wednesday, but Harry wasn’t fooled. The room already contained a table and chairs. Nothing else was needed. There was nothing to get ready.

Harry rose to his feet to go after him, nearly colliding with Yardley on the way through the door.

“Ah, Harry, just the person. If I could have a quick word…?”

There went Harry’s chance of finding out what Draco was up to. He cast one desperate glance at the corridor outside and then resigned himself to listening to some mindless, pre-meeting drivel.

********************

Fuck!

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, focusing his mind on muscular chests, lean backs and firm arses as his hand moved faster over his cock. He had just minutes until the other Aurors arrived for the meeting and if one of them was early…

The thought sent him over the edge and he came, body jerking, ropes of come splattering over the desk and the files on top of it as he bit down on his lip to muffle his cry of pleasure.

His cock was still twitching as he reached for his wand to clean up the mess. He managed to do so just as he heard the sound of the door handle turning and he hurriedly shoved his chair right up to the table to hide the fact that he hadn’t yet managed to refasten his pants.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

Great. Potter. It would have to be him, wouldn’t it?

Luckily he had managed to bring his ragged breathing under control and he was sure the flush on his cheeks probably wasn’t too noticeable.

“I’m waiting for the meeting to start, Potter, what does it look like?” he drawled, folding his arms across his chest and subjecting Potter to his best glare.

There was a pause whilst Potter almost seemed to consider answering the rhetorical question, but then he frowned, shook his head and stepped into the room.

Draco felt his heartbeat ramp up just a little higher. Fuck, if Potter came into the room and sat down he’d be forced to go through the entire meeting with his cock still hanging out for anyone who happened to look under the table to see. Not that there was any reason for anyone to look under the table, but still, the risk was there. Anyone might see.

Draco felt his cock twitch in interest at that thought and decided that he was screwed.

At least he would have been if Potter wasn’t such a thick-headed fool.

“Forgotten something, Potter?” he said, as the other man went to sit down, “Like all your case files for example?”

Potter went a rather fetching shade of red, growled something low in his throat and shot out the room as if Draco had just declared there was a werewolf in the building on a murderous rampage.

Satisfied, he made short work of tucking his cock away, rearranging his clothes and double checking that he’d got rid of all signs of what he’d been doing a few minutes before.

********************

Bloody fucking Malfoy!

Well at least now he knew what he’d been doing, or at least what he strongly suspected he’d been doing.

Malfoy hadn’t quite managed to control his breathing and there had been an unmistakeable flush to his cheeks and if that wasn’t enough the room had reeked of sex. Draco Malfoy had been having a wank.

Unless he’d been fucking someone who was hidden under the table, or under a disillusionment charm. Harry hadn’t actually checked that closely once he’d realised what had been happening and it really didn’t bear thinking about anyway.

Merlin, what the hell was Malfoy thinking? If Harry had been just a few seconds earlier he’d have walked in on him and then…

Then what?

Harry’s cock gave a twitch, which made him blush even though there was no one to witness it. He’d started to get hard the moment the suspicion had formed in his mind and in the end he’d been forced to sit down to hide the bulge, although that had also been partly because leaving at that point would have looked stupid.

Much as he hated humiliating himself in front of Malfoy he was half relieved that he’d forgotten his files in his haste to catch Malfoy out and had been given a very good excuse to leave.

He gathered the files, spent a few minutes visualising the unsexiest image he could conjure up and then headed back to the meeting room. Malfoy might be willing to risk getting caught wanking in the office, but Harry certainly wasn’t.

To his relief when he arrived back in the room it no longer smelt of sex. He didn’t think he’d be able to take that. As it was, he had to avoid looking at Malfoy for the rest of the meeting just to keep his suddenly raging libido under control.

********************

Nearly getting caught by Potter had been a fairly interesting experience, one that had given Draco some excellent wanking material that evening.

What would have happened if Potter had been a few seconds earlier?

Oh, Malfoy knew what would probably have happened: expressions of disgust and revulsion, Potter going bright red and running away, possibly even hexes and some sort of fight. Not in his imagination though. In his imagination everything was a possibility, including the possibility that Potter might just have helped him out.

Not that he liked Potter. In fact he bloody hated the pretentious little git, swanning around the Auror Department as if he ran the place rather than Yardley; lording it over Draco just because Draco owed him his position on the team; constantly giving those condescending little interviews to the Prophet that no one believed where he insisted that it was a team effort, that he wasn’t the great and glorious Harry bloody Potter who could single-handedly stop all crime.

Nope, Malfoy hated Potter with all his heart, which is why it would be gratifying to have him on his knees sucking his cock.

He came to the thought of that.

********************

Nearly catching Malfoy wanking was enough to drive Harry crazy. He’d gone home, wanked himself into a frenzy at the very thought and then stumbled around the office half the next morning in a daze.

He’d been so intent on watching out for Malfoy giving a repeat performance that he’d very nearly forgotten why he was in the office at all. He only remembered he was there to work when Yardley had nearly chewed his ear off about some overdue report and he’d decided that he really needed to concentrate.

Besides, his cock was starting to take too much interest in the whole thing and he absolutely was not going to wank at work. Ever.

********************

Draco stood under the shower, letting the water cascade around him, listening to the sound of the showers in the adjoining cubicles. He hated the Auror showers. There were no doors on the cubicles, not even a curtain, just three sided alcoves, covered in clinical white tiles, where any passer-by could get a good look at the arse of whoever was showering.

There was always a fight for the cubicle at the end of the row where no one would walk past and Draco usually won, but this time he had been delayed by the stupidity of one of the trainees and had been forced to use the cubicle nearest the door. Everyone was going to see him once they finished their own showers and headed out.

No privacy.

Merlin he needed to wank.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to tell himself no. Just imagine what would happen if he got caught wanking by his colleagues. Any moment now they’d be heading back to the office, walking past his cubicle and getting an eyeful of him with his hand wrapped around his cock. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Fuck.

Without his brain’s permission he’d started palming his cock, tugging slowly and smoothly at the shaft, shuddering at the pleasure stirring in his groin. Already he was turned on just at the thought of how near his colleagues were. Already he could feel the thrill of the risk humming through his veins, making him feel alive and aroused, coursing the adrenalin through his blood as his heart rate ramped up a notch.

This was the thrill he was after.

He pumped his hand harder and stifled a moan of pleasure, twisting his hand over the head of his cock with every upward stroke. Fuck it was good.

Somewhere along the row a shower went off. Draco knew he had a minute at most before the person deemed themselves dry enough to make the walk back to the locker room and the thought sent a new surge of blood throbbing through his cock. He gritted his teeth and increased his pace, feeling his balls tighten suddenly before he came hard, come lashing over the walls of the cubicle as his cock pulsed and twitched in his hand.

He hadn’t quite been able to muffle his groan this time, and he could only hope the noise of the water had drowned out the sound.

A moment later Thompson strolled past, nodding to Draco, who had turned his body to hide the mess on the wall behind him and tried to give the other man an impassive stare as he went past.

He smirked as Thompson nodded and didn’t stop, then set about trying to clean up the mess he’d made, cursing the fact that he’d left his wand in his locker.

********************

Draco had arrived back in the office after his shower and Harry wasn’t at all convinced the flush on his cheeks was completely due to the hot water. His treacherous cock gave an interested little twitch at that thought and Harry was forced to bite down on his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

What the hell did the git think he was playing at? Wanking in the office was not okay!

Hot though, his equally treacherous brain supplied.

Annoyed that he seemed to have so little control over various parts of his body Harry slammed down his bottle of ink just a little harder than he’d intended, sending ink splattering across his desk.

“Problem, Potter?”

Yes, you and your kinky masturbation habits. He obviously couldn’t say that so he settled for snapping, “None of your business, Malfoy,” and concentrated on clearing up the mess with his wand.

Damn it, he really needed to get a grip.

Unfortunately what he mostly got a grip on was his cock that night when he was at home whilst images of Malfoy wanking in the shower seemed determined to take over his brain.

Annoying little git was even fucking up his sex life now; Harry was determined not to let him get away with it. He would catch Malfoy out and make him pay.

********************

Potter was watching him again. He was trying to act like he wasn’t, but Draco could see that he was only pretending to read the parchment in front of him. What he was actually doing was examining Draco from under lowered eyelashes with an expression that suggested he was trying to catch him out.

Draco couldn’t imagine what he was trying to catch him doing.

He shifted a little in his chair and bit back a whimper as his cock rubbed against his trousers. Potter had been watching him for an hour now. He’d been hard for fifty-nine minutes.

It wasn’t because it was Potter. No, definitely not. It was nothing to do with those startling green eyes and the way Potter kept biting his lip in what was a ridiculously seductive way. No, it was definitely not Potter. It was just the fact that he kept watching.

Draco was so hard it hurt and if he didn’t do something about it soon he thought he might explode.

“Problem, Potter?” he snapped, his default beginning to most conversations with his schoolboy rival. It earned him a glare and a tightening of Potter’s admittedly rather luscious pink lips, but no answer. At least Potter genuinely seemed to be looking at the parchment rather than him now.

Draco returned to his own report and let his left hand slip under the desk and into his robes to rub at the bulge in his trousers. There was no way he could get up and walk through the office with this little problem, but he was so hard and he could already feel the pre-come that had soaked through his trousers and who was going to see him when the desk had a solid back to it?

A little thrill shot down his spine and his cock throbbed in response. He pressed it more firmly with his hand and allowed himself a little shudder of anticipation. Fucking hell, he really needed to stop doing this.

He didn’t. Instead he cleared his throat to cover up the noise of his zipper and plunged his hand into his boxers, releasing his aching cock from the confines of the material.

Usually he’d have wrapped his hand around it without hesitation but in the quiet office he knew his usual style, hard and frantic – chasing down his orgasm in the same way he would an escaping criminal – would make too much noise. No, this time he was going to have to take it slow.

If anything the thought of that only increased his sense of anticipation. More chance then that someone would catch him, more chance that Potter would work out exactly what he was doing under the desk. Of course he didn’t want him to, but the thought was more than erotic enough to set his heart pounding just a little harder.

Slowly he rubbed his thumb over the slit, spreading the pre-come there as he tugged his foreskin down, giving himself more access to the sensitive head beneath. He teased himself for a while, only stopping when he became aware that his breathing was getting just a little too loud, switching instead to cupping his balls, letting them roll around his hand as he tried to get himself back under control.

He made a renewed effort to focus on his report when he realised Potter was once again watching him from under his eyelashes. One sentence later he was distracted again by the throbbing of his cock and realised that his ideas about taking this slow weren’t exactly going to work out as planned. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and set a gentle rhythm, keeping his movements slow enough that there was no telltale sound of skin slicking together.

Fuck that was good. He upped the pace without meaning to and only realised his eyes had dropped closed when Potter’s voice broke through the haze of pleasure.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

His eyes shot open. Those green eyes were fixed on him properly now.

“Nothing.” He managed to force the word out between gritted teeth, but he’d slowed his hand down again and that helped a little, though it did nothing to appease the now painful ache in his groin.

“Really?” Potter was looking at him askance; a look Malfoy thought might just force him over the edge if he wasn’t careful. He slowed his hand down further. “You look a little flushed, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, Potter, just contemplating my report. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with it.” It was hard to drawl when he was this close to an orgasm, but Draco thought he’d done a pretty good approximation. Potter obviously thought so too for he went quiet and dropped his eyes to his own parchment again, a faint flush creeping over his cheeks.

Draco wanted to swear out loud. This was too much; he was too close. He should be gasping and moaning and telling the world how fucking good it felt to have his hand on his cock right now, but Potter was right there and all he could do was bite down on his tongue and do his best not to pant.

He shifted slightly so he could get a better grip and increased his pace again, cursing the fact that he was having to use his non-dominant hand for this and therefore wasn’t doing it quite so skilfully as usual. Not that he really minded. He could feel the heat coiling in his belly, spreading through his body like wild fire. He was going to come… he was going to…

The force of his orgasm caught even him by surprise. He choked and pitched forwards slightly, definitely attracting Potter’s attention which meant that he had to let go a lot sooner than he would have really liked. His cock was still pulsing, dribbling out the last sticky remnants of his orgasm as he forced himself to straighten up and reach with his right hand for his glass of water.

“Just some dust in my throat,” he said pleasantly in response to Potter’s admittedly rather horrified gaze. For a moment a flicker of panic stirred in Draco’s chest. Did Potter know what was going on? The man was thickheaded to the extreme, but Draco thought he’d probably been rather obvious at the end there.

No. To his relief Potter just nodded and then returned to his work, seeming to lose interest in Draco altogether. He put the flush on Potter’s cheeks down to the fact that the room was rather warm.

********************

Fucking hell. This really was too much. Malfoy had just had a wank whilst he was less that ten feet away, separated from him only by two wooden desks. It wasn’t enough. Harry felt violated.

Unfortunately he also felt ridiculously worked up and incredibly horny.

When Malfoy had made that noise, the one that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan, Harry had looked up to see him with his eyes closed, one hand very obviously moving under the desk and he’d been horrified. Mostly horrified about the fact that just the sight of Malfoy in that position had almost made him come right then and there.

And that had only been the half of it. When Malfoy had actually orgasmed Harry had very nearly fallen off his chair.

It really was too much. He managed to hold back for all of two minutes after Malfoy’s climax and then jumped to his feet, grabbed a sheaf of parchment to hide the bulge in his robes and headed straight for the toilets.

Screw no wanking at work, if he didn’t do something about this right now he thought he might actually faint from lack of blood to the head.

At least he had the decency to do it somewhere private.

********************

Oh Merlin, the office was nearly empty. Too empty. Weasley was on holiday, Peterson had taken the trainee out on some field work, so now there was only Potter again, sitting at the desk across from him in their little room which usually held five people.

The problem with this was that since he’d got away with it two days ago he was desperate to do it again. Just the idea of wanking under the desk was setting his blood pounding in his ears. It was filthy and terribly crass, but of course that was the appeal of the whole thing.

Besides writing reports was dreadfully boring and if he’d got away with it once he could surely get away with it again.

He resisted for a bit longer, until the twitching of his cock became too much to ignore any longer. He had to do this. He needed to.

He wet his lips and slipped his left hand under the desk, shifting slightly and glancing surreptitiously at Potter to check he wasn’t looking. The other man seemed to be engrossed in his paperwork and paying absolutely no attention. If he glanced up now…

Draco shifted, pressing his hand against the swell of his erection and suppressing a groan at the friction of cloth against his sensitised flesh. He rubbed again, forcing his eyes open when they tried to flutter shut, and increased the pressure as he felt himself growing to full hardness.

Fuck that was good. He was moving his hand more urgently now, pressing his hips forwards into his touch until he could stand it no longer and scrabbled at the fastenings on his trousers, barely remembering to disguise the noise with a cough.

The moment his cock was free he wrapped his hand around it and started stroking gently, desperately trying to hold back the noises that threatened to escape. It was half a minute before he remembered to glance up and check what Potter was doing.

He was watching.

Those green eyes were fixed unblinkingly on him and the look on Potter’s face suggested he very much knew what was going on. Draco stopped, placed his hand on top of the desk and tried to get himself back under control.

Of course Potter didn’t know. How could he know? Draco glared and Potter flushed before he looked away. Draco took the opportunity to slip his hand back under the desk and resume his activities, this time keeping his eyes fixed very firmly on Potter’s head.

The interruption had done nothing to reduce Draco’s erection, or his burning need to come. He could feel the heat spiralling through his body now, coiling in his stomach, growing and pulsing as he neared his climax. His hand sped up, just a few more strokes and he’d…

Fuck! In his urgency he’d let his concentration waver and now Potter was looking at him again, a faint, rather attractive flush, gracing his pale cheeks. Draco forced his hand to stop, though he couldn’t bring himself to remove it from his cock entirely this time.

Stupid nosey git. Why couldn’t he just concentrate on his report? Why did he have to keep looking up?

Draco dipped his head and scrawled a sentence on his parchment, his hand shaking slightly from the raw need coursing through his body. The sooner Potter lost interest and he could carry on, the better.

A noise made him look up. Potter was actually leaving! Thank Merlin for that. Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could have held back. Why the hell had he ever thought it would be a good idea to do this again?

Potter made some vague comment about going to see someone and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor beyond. To Draco’s displeasure he didn’t immediately shut it. Instead he had apparently been waylaid because Draco could hear Potter’s half of the conversation drifting back through the open door. He groaned under his breath, squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, forcing his hand to remain still until finally Potter shut the door and was gone.

With another groan, this one louder than he’d intended, he started to move his hand in earnest, letting his head loll back against the chair as he worked his hand faster over his erection, finally free to do this the way he really wanted to.

“Wanking in the office is an extremely bad habit, Malfoy,” said a voice by his ear.

********************

Oh, that reaction had been priceless. Harry wished he owned a Pensive so he could enjoy it all over again.

He’d obviously done a very good job of pretending to have a conversation outside the room whilst actually pulling on his invisibility cloak and then slipping back through the open door before actually shutting it from the inside. Draco hadn’t bothered to hide what he was doing when he thought he was alone and the opportunity had been too good to pass up.

When he’d spoken Draco had almost fallen off the chair. And now his hand had stilled, his jaw had dropped and a beautiful flush was creeping up his neck, turning his pale skin an interesting shade of pink.

Harry pressed his advantage, still completely invisible as he leaned in towards Malfoy’s ear and inhaled his scent. Cinnamon, spice and just a faint hint of sex, warm and inviting. Harry couldn’t resist flicking his tongue over the shell of Malfoy’s ear.

“Are you going to carry on, or do you want some help with that?” he asked, emboldened by the fact that Malfoy couldn’t actually see him. He obviously knew where he was though and Harry kept a sharp eye on Malfoy’s hands, just in case he came to his senses enough to reach for his wand.

At the moment though he seemed frozen to the spot, his gazed fixed rigidly ahead. “Fuck off, Potter!” he snapped, suddenly coming to life and trying to refasten his pants.

Harry couldn’t allow that to happen. He reached out, plucked Malfoy’s wand from his robes and tossed it across the room before Malfoy could react. Then he knocked Malfoy’s hand aside and wrapped his own hand around Malfoy’s still mostly hard cock.

“Oh no, Malfoy, I don’t think so,” he murmured, shifting his position to get a better grip, “If you want to wank in the office you need to face the consequences.”

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy said breathily, his entire body still rigid and his hands dangling by his side as he made absolutely no effort to stop Harry’s hand moving over his cock.

“Teaching you the consequences. You think you can just go around wanking in front of me and get away with it?”

The noise Malfoy made was somewhere between a squeak and a whimper, which Harry decided meant his hand was doing a very good job indeed. Malfoy would never have made a noise like that voluntarily.

It was the work of a second to aim his wand at the door, firing off a locking and silencing charm to ensure their privacy, before he started working at the fastenings of his own pants. He was definitely not going to let this opportunity pass up.

********************

Fucking hell!

He’d just made the most ridiculous noise imaginable and Potter had his hand on his cock. The situation was so bizarre that Draco entertained the thought that he was really having some sort of depraved dream.

That lasted until he hear d heard the unmistakeable sound of Potter removing his trousers and that brought him back to reality, in spite of the continued attention to his cock.

“Potter,” he gasped. He’d meant it to come out as a warning, but he was rather afraid it had just sounded needy. He cursed his treacherous body – which was very definitely telling him that being given a handjob by an invisible man was erotic – even when his rational brain knew that person was Harry Potter.

“Fuck, Potter!” he said as he felt the other man shift and then felt the very definite weight of someone sitting in his lap, pinning him to the chair. “What the fuck are you doing?”

It was definitely the time for action. He snapped himself upright and tried to push the other man away, but damn it Potter was heavy, and Malfoy was already panting and weakened with arousal and the only effect he had was that Potter let go of his cock to pin down his hands instead.

He slumped back in the chair, wishing his cock wasn’t leaking quite so obviously and biting his lip to try and hold back the desperate urge to demand Potter put his hand back there right now.

“I think fucking is better than wanking, don’t you?”

Merlin! Since when was Potter’s voice quite so seductive? And why the hell had that sentence sent a thrill of anticipation down his spine rather than a shudder of disgust?

He was not going to fuck Potter. He was not going to fuck Potter. He was not going to…

But Potter had other ideas and that hand was back on his cock covered now in something cool and slick and Draco had a strong suspicion that Harry had shoved his own fingers in his arse, which was the only way to explain the movements that he could feel, even if he couldn’t actually see anything.

“Merlin, Potter,” he breathed, almost without meaning to.

He could practically hear the smirk and then… well. then he didn’t really care, because Potter had leant on his shoulders for leverage and lifted himself onto his cock and now it was breaching that tight ring of muscle, sinking deep into the heat that was Potter’s body.

“Fuck!” He hadn’t meant to make that exclamation either, and he certainly hadn’t meant to jerk the way he had. His hands scrambled desperately to grip at hips his eyes couldn’t see and he let his body slide forwards, adjusting the angle so he could bury himself more deeply in that delicious heat.

He groaned and became aware that Potter’s head was leaning on his shoulder, filling his nostrils with the scent of his hair. It smelt of shampoo, clean and fresh, and not at all how Draco had imagined such a shocking hairstyle would smell. He was glad then that Potter was under the cloak because he knew he would have been tempted to bury his fingers in that hair had it not been covered by the invisible material.

“Mmm, Draco.” Harry rolled his hips, sending a spike of pleasure through Draco’s groin and then he started moving in earnest, grinding and lifting and slamming back down, letting out sexy little grunts of pleasure on every downward stroke that had Draco grabbing the chair and thrusting upwards, desperate to feel more of that perfect friction.

There was another shift and a stilling of Potter’s hips that had Draco writhing in a way he was pretty sure was going to embarrass him later. Then there was a hand closing around his wrist and he felt his arm being drawn forwards under the folds of the invisibility cloak. He watched in fascination as it disappeared from view and then let out a whimper of arousal as he felt his fingers brush the hard, hot swell of Harry’s erection.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, even as his fingers automatically curled around it and his eyes dropped closed in anticipation, “Oh fuck, Potter.”

“Might as well put your talents at wanking to good use,” Potter hissed in his ear. There was a snarky retort for that Draco was sure, but it was lost in a haze of pleasure as Potter lifted his hips again and began to bounce on Draco’s cock with renewed enthusiasm. Draco gave a strangled gasp, and began moving his wrist, relishing the feel of Potter’s cock under his fingers.

It was iron-hard, and Draco was vaguely aware that Potter was close, vaguely aware that the other man had started to lose control now. He was babbling, pouring a perfect little stream of obscenities and half formed pleas into his ear. Fuck Draco, right there Draco, so fucking good Draco.

Draco reached up with one hand and made a wild grab for what he hoped was the edge of the cloak. It slipped off, revealing Harry’s head and shoulders, his eyes flying open as he realised what Draco had done. Their eyes met. Harry bit his lip, flung his head back and came hard. His muscles clenched around Draco’s cock and Draco gave a strangled cry as his orgasm ripped through his body. He thrust again and again through his orgasm, his body twitching and convulsing, pulsing his come into Harry’s hole until Draco thought there couldn’t possibly be anything left to give.

Harry squeezed, Draco’s cock twitched and he cursed under his breath as he realised Potter had clenched his muscles deliberately. It was more than he could take and he let himself slump bonelessly against the back of the chair, breathing fast.

“Wasn’t that better than wanking?” Potter asked, sounding far too amused for Draco’s liking.

“Fuck off, Potter,” he growled, not even bothering to pry his eyes open as he felt the other man start to squirm in his lap.

“Seriously though, wanking in the office? What were you thinking, Draco?”

That was worth opening his eyes for. He snapped them open in time to see Potter looking at him speculatively. Draco subjected him to his most condescending glare.

“That’s a stupid question, Potter,” he snapped, “Obviously I was thinking I was going to get away with it and not have to explain it to anyone. What the fuck do you want me to say?”

The smug smirk on Potter’s face almost made Draco punch the little git. He held himself back only when he realised Potter was now holding his wand and that his own was somewhere on the other side of the office. Instead he pushed at Potter’s hips, wincing as their bodies parted and sticky fluid dribbled onto his thighs.

At least Potter had the good sense to clean them up with a languid wave of his wand. Draco thought he was probably enjoying this a bit too much and settled for concentrating on doing up his own trousers as soon as Potter clambered off his lap and began adjusting his own clothes under the cloak.

“Personally, I thought it was much better than wanking,” Potter said conversationally as he made his way back to his own desk, pulling off the invisibility cloak and bending down to retrieve Draco’s wand. “Next time you get the urge I’d be happy to assist. Just let me know.”

Draco scoffed as he caught the wand Potter threw in his direction, or at least he tried to scoff. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way he half choked at the look on Potter’s face. When the hell had Potter started throwing around looks like that?

Potter gave him another of those looks, eyes half narrowed and added, “Whenever that might be.”

Draco cursed silently as he let his hand slip under the table to cup the bulge already growing in his trousers.

At this rate it wouldn’t be long at all before he was taking Potter up on that offer.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 16: Recovery

2015-02-05T22:21:47Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: This is probably the chapter you've all been waiting for since the very beginning! Also I just wanted to say sorry I'm not updating as regularly recently. I've entered quite a few fests so I've got a few other fics I'm having to work on in time to meet the deadlines. The next few chapters of this are already written but I'm thinking of rewriting chapter 17 completely. Don't worry I'm not losing interest in it or anything, updates will just be a little slower for a while :)

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 16: Recovery

The rest of the evening passed in pleasant harmony between the two of them. They played chess again, though in the end Draco resorted to actually giving Harry tips on how to play better. He had a tendency to sacrifice his pieces too often when there were other options available. If he hadn’t known that Weasley was actually very good at chess Draco might have put it down to some stupid Gryffindor trait, but as it was he decided that it was actually just Harry’s refusal to think things through properly. He was surprisingly good at taking instruction though and by the end of the evening Draco thought he might actually turn into a competent player if only he practised a bit more.

It was inevitable of course that he would end up in Harry’s bed again that night and the night after as well. Draco craved his company too much to bother resisting now, and it seemed Harry didn’t mind him being there. He accepted it just like he accepted everything else that seemed to be going on right now.

By the time Friday came around Draco knew he was walking around in a sort of daze. One where his feet didn’t seem to touch the floor and his head seemed to spin whenever he tried to think too much about things and life just seemed to be utterly brilliant in a way he couldn’t describe.

He drifted about his room humming, only moving because in this frame of mind he was too jittery to keep still. Harry was downstairs taking a Floo Call, but Draco knew he’d be finished soon and then his attention would be all on Draco again, intense and focussed, making him feel like the centre of the universe.

Draco’s wanderings took him over to the mirror and he looked at himself critically. Harry was probably right, he was thinner than he had been three months ago, the lack of physical activity meant he wasn’t eating as much and that in turn had cause the weight to drop off him. He sighed and raised his arms up to his head so that his useless lower arms dangled down his back. There was a thin smile on his face as he regarded the reflection in the mirror. Even his arms couldn’t bother him now as much as they used to.

Then it happened. Draco didn’t know how it happened, or even why, but there was one great heavy beat from his heart that he could feel reverberating through his whole body and then the blood seemed to rush through his veins and down his arms bringing them back to life.

He cried out and dropped them back to his sides, shaking them frantically as they tingled unpleasantly and the muscles twitched and convulsed of their own accord. By the time they had stopped he had dropped to his knees and was whimpering, partly in relief and partly in agony.

The sensations stopped as suddenly as they had come. Draco risked an attempt to wriggle his fingers only when it was clear they weren’t going to come back. The muscles felt stiff, and the movement felt unnatural, as if he was having to instruct every individual muscle as to what to do, when before such a gesture would have been automatic, but his fingers did twitch, and then when he made another experiment his whole arm moved.

“Oh yes,” he hissed and tried the other arm.

Harry had been right. He could feel that the muscles were weak, he certainly couldn’t clench his hand into a fist and he didn’t think he’d be able to do very much at all right now, but the feeling was back. He could feel his arms, he could feel his clothes against his arms and he could move.

He stared some more and then scrambled to his feet and flung himself down the stairs, not stopping running until he burst through the sitting room door.

“Harry!” he yelled, completely ignoring Granger’s head hanging in the Floo. “Harry!” He had to repeat it when the other man didn’t immediately turn round from where he was kneeling in front of the fire.

He did then, simply because Granger had stopped whatever she was saying and turned to look at Draco. Harry did so too and his face was creased into a frown that usually would have made Draco scowl in annoyance, but today he was too elated to care.

“I’m talking, Draco, you can wait five bloody minutes,” he snapped, and immediately turned back to the fire.

“Harry!” he knew his voice was an oddly delighted whine, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even care that Granger could hear him. “Pay attention to me!” He closed the distance between them and whacked Harry around the head with one hand.

“Ouch!” Harry whirled around again and glared up at him, “Don’t hit me, Draco you…. You hit me!” His eyes widened as realisation struck and he scrambled to his feet. “You hit me!” he repeated as if Draco might not be aware of it.

Draco just stared back at him, his expression locked in an elated grin that he thought was never going to fade.

“The curse has gone!” Harry’s face split into a grin that could rival Draco’s and then he flung his arms out at the same time as Draco and they fell into each other’s embrace, laughing and holding on as tightly as they could.

They carried on hugging, rocking slightly in each other’s arms, Draco ignoring the burn in his underused muscles as he forced them to carry on giving Harry the embrace he had been waiting so long to give, until a cough from the fireplace startled them and they jumped apart suddenly.

“Well, that’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” Granger said in amusement as Harry knelt down again looking sheepish, the colour flooding to his cheeks.

Draco on the other hand was far too elated to be embarrassed right now. He flung himself down in front of the fire, leaning so close that Granger actually reared her head back slightly. “Are you kidding, Granger?” he gasped, “I’d even hug you right now I’m so happy.”

To his surprise Granger actually chuckled at that, although there was no nastiness in the sound, just amusement. He blinked in surprise and drew back a little. It was true he hadn’t actually had any interaction with Granger since his trial several years ago, but even so he was surprised by the lack of animosity she was displaying towards him. In fact, he was surprised by the lack of animosity he felt towards her, although of course that might just be due to his current buoyant mood.

“I’m flattered, Malfoy,” she said finally, “But I think I’ll pass. Harry, you’d better take him to St Mungo’s; just because the curse is gone doesn’t mean there won’t be side effects.”

“Side effects?” Draco cut in, before Harry could speak.

Granger turned and regarded him with an expression he would almost have called compassionate. Almost. “Your muscles will have atrophied from lack of use. You need to see a Healer about what to do next.”

Draco relaxed. When she’d said side effects he’d been thinking of something much worse, but this he could cope with. Harry had already warned him about the muscle weakness he would experience, and right now not even the fact that he was suffering from it could undo his good mood. The end of the road was in sight and a weight he didn’t know he’d been carrying had been lifted from his shoulders: the fear that the Healers had been wrong and that the curse would never wear off had gone.

“All right,” Harry was saying when he paid attention again, “We’ll go now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok?”

There was a final goodbye, during which even Draco consented to offer Granger a wave of his hand in farewell, before she disappeared from the fireplace. The moment she did Harry turned around and punched him lightly in the shoulder.

“So how does it feel?”

Instead of replying Draco simply grinned and flung himself onto the other man, knocking him to the floor before smacking him on the shoulder as hard as his muscles would allow. He managed to do it twice before a protesting Harry grabbed his arms and rolled them over, panting.

“What the fuck, Draco?” he gasped, apparently confused by the fact that Draco was still grinning at him like a loon.

“That was revenge for all the times you’ve been a prat over the last few months,” Draco said, as if this was obvious, “And it’s lucky for you I can’t hit any harder at the moment.”

Harry gaped at him but Draco simply licked his lips and gazed up at the other man suddenly feeling quite vulnerable in spite of his renewed independence. Harry was holding him down too easily for him to feel any other way.

“Are you going to beat me up now?” he asked, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. He didn’t know why; he didn’t really think Harry would actually beat him up. Why then was he feeling nervous? Why could he feel his heart pounding in his chest?

“No, I don’t think I will,” Harry said gently, seeming not to know what was going on himself. He released Draco’s arms and though Draco desperately wanted to wrap them around Harry he settled for leaning his elbows on the floor and letting just his hands rest either side of Harry’s ribcage.

There was one heavy moment of silence and then Draco realised he was doing it again. His head was tilted towards Harry, his lips were parted invitingly and he wanted the other man to kiss him.

Damn it. He went to turn away, but before his muscles could obey Harry was suddenly there, his mouth pressed gently against Draco’s, lips gliding and tongue probing lightly. There was one instant moment of pure dazzling surrender and then Draco rolled them over, pressing his lips down harder, forcing Harry to submit to his will as he kissed and licked and sucked at his lips so hard he thought he might actually draw blood, especially as Harry was responding with nips and licks of his own.

The kisses lasted until Draco realised he couldn’t keep himself balanced any longer. His arms were still too weak and his stomach muscles were trembling with the effort of holding himself up. He gave Harry one last forceful, closed mouth kiss and then dropped his head and weight onto Harry’s chest with a groan.

Somewhere above his hair Harry laughed. “We really have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what? Draco grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to flex his fingers and feeling annoyed at just how stiff they felt.

“Kissing.”

That was sufficiently odd that Draco ceased in his efforts and made a renewed attempt to raise himself up. When that failed he rolled off Harry’s chest and settled for lying on his side next to him so he could look over at him. “Why?” he asked, when Harry turned his head towards him.

“It’s just very… very…” Merlin, Harry had started blushing again. What the hell was wrong with him now? “Intimate,” he finished, which Draco thought was somewhat lame. Of course kissing was intimate, surely that was the point?

He blinked. Bloody hell. It was not ok to be intimate with Harry Potter. Was it?

“Right,” he said, trying to keep the strain out of his voice as his mind whirled. He scrambled to his feet. “Are we going to St Mungo’s then?”

Harry nodded and stood, heading out the room, Draco suspected that out of habit he’d gone to get their coats and he left him to it simply because it gave him a moment to think.

Harry was right, damn him. They really shouldn’t be kissing. Fucking was all very well, he needed some sort of release at the moment and Harry was the only convenient person available to do that with, but he certainly didn’t need to be kissing him. He didn’t even kiss Blaise. Hell, he only kissed the other blokes he slept with if they were really insistent about it. He didn’t even really like kissing that much. Sharing spit was disgusting as far as he was concerned. Kissing Harry Potter of all people should make him feel so repulsed he’d need a mouth full of cleaning charms just to get rid of the sensation. Instead he just found that his lips were tingling and his body kept begging for more without his permission.

Shit.

This curse had obviously fucked him up in more ways than one. He really needed to get a grip.

*************

Not too long later Draco found himself in a private room at St Mungo’s being attended to by one of their top specialists in muscle weakness and rehabilitation. Having The Chosen One with him certainly did have some advantages, Draco realised, as the woman fussed around him and was generally a lot more attentive and thorough than she would have been had Draco been alone.

“Now remember Mr Malfoy, you must do the exercise at least once a day, preferably twice a day,” she was saying. Draco checked her name badge again. It said Luella and Draco was having trouble working out if this was a first name or a surname. “Now lie on the bed please.”

Draco blinked at her in surprise, his musing about her name well and truly interrupted. “What?”

“The bed, Mr Malfoy. I need you to lie down. You’ll need to apply this cream first thing in the morning and last thing at night, I’ll do the first application now so you won’t have to do it until tomorrow. Of course you’ll probably have to find someone to do it for you, since you can’t reach.”

“Oh, right.” Draco tried desperately not to glance at Harry, though in the end he didn’t quite manage it. Harry was looking at the view out the window and didn’t seem to be listening. Draco wondered for the first time whether he really was going to keep his word about continuing to look after him now the curse had worn off. Since he had at least partial use of his hands was he now expecting Draco to move out and perhaps get one of his friends to take over?

Draco climbed onto the bed with a heavy heart. Three months ago he’d been dreading the idea of staying at Harry’s at all. Now he found he was dreading the thought of leaving even more.

Since his shirt was already off the woman immediately scooped a large blob of the cream onto her hands and then set about rubbing it into the top of his chest and shoulders before working her way down his arms all the way to his fingers. Once that was done she ordered him to turn over and repeated the process on his back. In this new position Draco had his head turned to the side and he could see that now Harry was paying very close attention, as if he was trying to memorise what the woman was doing. Draco felt his heart give a hopeful little jump. If Harry was that interested, did it mean he was expecting to have to do this?

“Now,” said the woman as her fingers worked busily, kneading and pressing at the muscles of Draco’s shoulders and upper arms, “You have a lot of tension here and your muscles are going to be stiff. This cream will help relieve that stiffness as well as a lot of the aches and pains you’re going to experience. I would think you’ll have to keep this up for about a week. You need to get whoever applies the cream to massage it deep into your muscles so that it can do its job.”

Draco nodded, deciding that it was rather a good job that the Healer was a middle aged woman, because a handsome young male Healer would definitely have caused him a bit of a problem right now.

After what seemed like a long time she finally seemed satisfied and allowed him to get up. His arms were tingling unpleasantly, but the Healer was right, his muscles did feel considerably less stiff.

“Your strength will come back gradually as your muscles grow again. I’m giving you some muscle-replenishing potion to help the process. One dose a day for the next week. Everything else will have to be by your own hard work, Mr Malfoy.”

“How long do you think it will take?” Harry had spoken, almost for the first time since they’d entered the room. The Healer looked at him, as if surprised he was taking an interest, but then seemed to come to a realisation.

“It will be a few weeks before full strength returns, but you should notice a significant difference by the end of this week with the treatments I’ve suggested. He’ll be able to return to work then so long as he only does desk duty. It will probably take longer than that for his fine motor grip to return so any writing will have to be done with a Quotation Quill.” She turned back to Draco and regarded him suspiciously. “In the meantime I suggest you don’t try to pick up anything delicate.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” said Draco dryly, thinking that right now he’d just settle for being able to pick up his wand.

“Thank you, Healer Luella,” Harry said, inclining his head slightly and accepting the box full of potions and creams that she was holding out for Draco to take, “I’ll just take these shall I?” he said with a smile that Draco thought was full of knives, “They probably count as something delicate.”

“Oh, um… yes of course.” The Healer seemed embarrassed at her own mistake, or possibly at the silent reprimand that was in Harry’s eyes. The one that suggested he was ashamed of her for not treating Draco better and for expecting Draco to do something that right now was impossible. Draco felt his heart thump just a little harder at that.

His heart thumped even harder when Harry turned and gave him a smile that seemed to reach out and wrap him in warmth and something else Draco couldn’t quite identify. It was almost acceptance, but Draco hadn’t been accepted by anyone in so long that he’d forgotten what that felt like.

Silently he followed Harry back through the corridors of St Mungo’s and let him Apparate them home.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 15: Return

2015-02-01T00:27:22Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: I managed to get this chapter up a bit quicker :) Not long now before Draco recovers!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 15: Return

“You’re an idiot, you know that right?”

Draco fought his way back up through the darkness and tried to open his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again when he finally managed it and found that the light was painfully bright.

“What’s going on?” he muttered, before memory came rushing back and he snapped his eyes open, trying to scramble to his feet. A firm hand stopped him and he was forced to subside more because a sudden wave of dizziness overtook him than because he was willing.

“You hit your head, Draco, you need to take this potion before you go anywhere.” A goblet was held out in front of him, Draco blinked and then managed to scowl up at Potter who was the one holding it.

“Fuck off, Potter, I don’t need your charity.”

There was a sigh and the potion goblet was put down. Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Please don’t you start, Draco,” he said, which was so completely not something Draco was expecting him to say that he just blinked stupidly for a moment.

“What?” he asked finally, when he found his voice again.

“Acting like I’m some wonderful person who always does the right thing and acts so selflessly all the time.”

Draco snorted, in spite of the pain in his head. “You’re not a wonderful person, Potter.”

“No, exactly, so don’t act like it,” he said shortly.

“I’m not acting like it.”

“Yes, you are, you’ve got some stupid idea in your head that I hate you and I’m only spending time with you because I feel sorry for you. Only a pretty selfless and wonderful person would do something like that.”

Draco tried to work that one out, but his head hurt too much, especially when he jerked his neck to try and stop Potter dabbing at his forehead with a wet cloth.

“Draco I need to clean the blood off you, I healed the cut but you need cleaning.”

“Tergeo.”

“What?”

“Honestly Potter call yourself an Auror? Tergeo. It’s the spell to clean up blood.”

“Oh right.” Potter took the hint and picked up his wand instead of the cloth, muttering the spell under his breath. At least the git could actually perform the thing properly. Draco could feel the blood being cleaned away.

“There, are you going to stop being stupid now?” Harry asked wryly, putting down his wand again and picking up the potion goblet instead.

“You told Weasley…” Draco began and then trailed off, realising he had just admitted to eavesdropping on a private conversation. When Harry simply sighed though he frowned and decided that obviously he didn’t care whether Potter knew he’d been eavesdropping. Why did he care about what Potter thought?

“I told Ron what?” said Harry shortly, and yet without any anger in his voice. “That you’re an insufferable prat? You know that, I tell you all the time.”

“I don’t care what you think about me, Potter,” Draco said stiffly, trying to sit up a little straighter and subject Potter to his best glare, “I’m not some charity case for you to look after and fawn over. I don’t need you putting yourself out for me.”

Harry gave a short laugh, though it was one without malice. “You really are mental, Draco,” he said, eyeing him as if this was merely a point of interest about him and not an insult. “You think I’d invite you to a Quidditch match if I hated you? We’ve just established I’m not perfect, and I’m certainly not so unselfish as to subject myself to a day of torture.”

Draco furrowed his brow, opened and shut his mouth and then simply looked at Potter with widened eyes.

“Look, Draco,” Harry caught his face gently between his hands and held his head in place even when Draco trembled slightly and tried to pull away. “Me feeling ever so slightly guilty? That gets you a place to stay and a house-elf to look after you. Me feeling sorry for you? That gets you a bit more. Me actually finding your company tolerable and not nearly so bad as I expected? That’s what gets you everything else. You are an insufferable git sometimes, but most of the time I can put up with that. I wouldn’t spend time with you if I didn’t want to. Like I said, I’m not the wonderful, giving person some people would set me up to be. Now are you going to stop being stupid and actually come with me to the match? I would like you to.”

Draco swallowed once and then again for good measure. Those words had been so sincere and so heartfelt that Draco thought for a moment he was going to cry. No one ever said they actually wanted to spend time with him like that before. No one actually wanted to make friends with him. The few he had were there simply because they had a shared past that bound them together and they found each other tolerable company, not because there was any great mutual affection between them. That Harry of all people, the boy whose life he taken every opportunity to make a misery, had suddenly decided he was worth bothering about made his heart feel like it would burst in his chest.

Eventually when he’d got himself a bit more under control he swallowed one last time and drawled, “Well, since you seem so eager for my company, who am I to deny it to you?” lifting his head so he could look disdainfully down at Harry, who was still kneeling at his feet like some sort of slave. A second later his expression faltered and his eyes widened because Harry had smiled at those words, and his smile had been like the sun.

“Good, now drink your potion,” he said after a minute of smiling and bathing Draco in a light he hadn’t realised actually existed before this moment. Draco did, because to refuse to do anything for a smile like that would actually have caused his own heart to break. Afterwards Harry put his shoes on for him and then stood up as Draco shuffled forwards to the edge of the chair.

Just for a moment Harry gazed down at him and automatically Draco tilted his head towards him and ran his tongue over his lips. It took him a split second to realise what he was doing and then he whipped his head around and tried to pretend he was very interested in checking that Harry had done his shoes up properly.

“I’ll get our coats,” Harry muttered and departed, leaving Draco to flop back in the chair and curse inwardly. Draco never asked for kisses, if he wanted to kiss someone he just did it, he did not tilt his head back like that and submit himself to another’s will. And what’s more, he absolutely did not want to kiss Harry Potter.

Merlin, he was going mad. It must have been the bang to the head he decided as he stood up and let Harry put his coat on.

Yes, that was definitely it. If it happened again, when Harry apparated them back from the Quidditch match and had to catch Draco when he stumbled then that must be the head injury too.

Draco slept in his own bed that night. He felt it was safer that way.

**************

Sunday passed pleasantly. Harry woke him up the next morning with breakfast and an insistence that he repeated the exercises from the day before, as well as some new ones that involved Draco swinging his arms around and reaching for the ceiling. The latter felt strange, since only really his shoulders reached for the ceiling, whilst his lower arms dangled uselessly down his back in a way Draco was sure he should have found humiliating, but which was made slightly less so by Harry’s amused smile. Why being laughed at by Harry made it better Draco couldn’t quite work out, but he supposed it was better than pity, which Draco found more demeaning than anything.

After that Harry did consent to showering him and dressing him and then, bizarrely insisted on dragging Draco out to a muggle market being held in the local park. Draco had no idea what the hell was going on for most of the morning, but Harry held his hand as if he might otherwise get lost, dragged him from stall to stall ogling things that Draco didn’t recognise and then finally bought and ate an ice cream in what Draco considered a completely unnecessary way.

The little episode resulted in Draco insisting Harry did exactly the same thing to his cock once they finally got home.

After that things settled down, Harry seemed content to read and play wizarding chess for the rest of the day, and by the time bedtime came around Draco had manage to convincingly beat him four games to one, something which he spent a good deal of time gloating about as Harry undressed him and shoved him onto the bed in revenge.

“You’re such a bad loser, Harry,” he grumbled, when he managed to turn himself over and start trying to work his way under the blankets.

“No,” said Harry, grabbing hold of them and pulling them up properly around Draco’s shoulders, “You’re just a bad winner.” He was grinning, so Draco just huffed at him and stuck his tongue out, wondering when he’d become quite so childish.

“Goodnight, Draco,” Harry said firmly before he could say anything else. The lights went out and the door clicked closer. Draco fell asleep feeing strangely content with life.

**************

The feeling of contentment stayed with him all the next day, and the next. That he was feeling happier than he had most of the time he wasn’t cursed was something that disturbed him slightly, but only enough that he kept well away from Harry’s bed and didn’t allow him anywhere near his cock. He had got used to not getting off everyday now so it wasn’t particularly hard to do and it helped that Harry was still insistent upon feeding him and making him do exercises and generally behaving like Draco was the single most important thing that had his attention right now.

For the first time Draco thought he knew what it was like to be the centre of someone’s world. The sheer intensity of the experience was almost dizzying.

Of course it couldn’t last.

On Wednesday morning, only two hours after Harry had left for work Draco heard the Floo activate and he padded into sitting room barefooted to see who had arrived. Harry was standing on the hearth looking harassed, though his mouth dropped open the second he saw Draco.

Draco grinned smugly, suspecting the reaction was something to do with his appearance. He had been hot so he had got Kreacher to roll up his sleeves and undo the top buttons on his shirt and then he had allowed the house-elf to cut his hair. It had taken a long time, with endless, slightly impatient instructions from Draco, but Harry had been right, the disaster that he called hair was not Kreacher’s fault. He’d done an extremely good job of Draco’s and now it hung properly again, barely grazing his eyes and making him look a whole lot better than he’d looked in weeks.

“What are you doing?” he asked, when it seemed Harry was simply going to continue staring with his mouth slightly agape.

Harry blinked. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“Full marks for observation Harry, now what are you doing home?” He paused and a sudden thought occurred, causing him to add, “Are you ill?” with slightly more concern evident in his voice than he’d intended.

That at least seemed to jerk Harry back to reality. He sighed and stated to make his way to the door, brushing past Draco and now apparently refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ve got to go away again,” he said, in a tone that suggested to Draco he was trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

“Oh.” Draco couldn’t think what to say. He felt his heart thumping dully in his chest as his stomach lurched so hard he thought he might be sick. “When till?”

“Only till Friday.”

Harry was at the door now, he left the room, presumably to pack a suitcase, and Draco didn’t bother to follow him, instead he sank down into a chair and wished he could drop his head into his hands.

What the hell was he supposed to do without Harry for three days? And why did he even care?

“Look it really is only till Friday.” Harry was back, when Draco glanced over at him he was standing gripping his suitcase so tightly Draco was surprised the handle didn’t break. “You’ll be fine until then.”

“How do you know?”

Harry looked surprised at those words and if he was honest with himself Draco was equally surprised. Where the fuck had that come from?

“Draco,” said Harry warningly, though what he was warning him about Merlin only knew.

“Fine, Potter, whatever. Off you go. See you Friday.”

He was dismissing him again, and just like last time Harry sighed, shook his head and the next moment had disappeared through the Floo. The second he was gone Draco sank back into the chair and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, willing himself not to embarrass himself by crying. It was only till Friday. He could last until Friday. The fact that he was more bothered about going without Harry’s company than anything else only made him want to cry even more.

************

Draco didn’t know how long he’d been sat in front of the fire. The hours seemed to have blurred together until Draco wasn’t sure if it was one, or ten. He was hungry, but he’d refused Kreacher’s offer of lunch and Kreacher hadn’t yet tried to feed him dinner, so Draco supposed it was somewhere between the two meals. He really couldn’t be bothered to care.

The Floo flared. Draco blinked at it but didn’t stir. It was probably going to be Peterson, sent by Harry to check on him. It was unlikely he’d ask Ron to do it after what had happened on the Floo call.

“Stop sulking Draco it doesn’t suit you.”

“Harry!” Draco jumped to his feet and took one hopeful step towards Harry before he realised that actually the man had probably only returned because he’d forgotten something. He subsided, and knew his cheeks were colouring as he looked down at the floor.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, Draco,” Harry said quietly, his tone determined. Draco heard the thud of something hitting the floor and then Harry was in front of him, so close Draco could practically feel the warmth coming from his body. “I came back ok?”

Draco said nothing. What the fuck was Potter on about now?

“I came back because I couldn’t bloody stand the way you looked at me when I left,” Harry’s voice sounded high and unnatural, like he was on the verge of laughing, or quite possibly crying. Draco looked up in confusion. “You know what that means, right? It means I’m the one who’s bloody mental here and you better be bloody grateful because I had to call in every favour Robins owes me to get me off that case when we’re so short staffed. But I did it and I came back so don’t you dare give me that fucking look, Draco.”

“What look? What are you on about Potter?” The man was right, he was mental. Draco quirked a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Don’t you bloody Potter me, Draco. My name’s Harry.”

“Fine, Harry,” Draco said, his voice heavy, “I don’t remember asking you not to go.”

“No, of course you didn’t, that’s the bloody problem isn’t it?” Harry ran his hand through his hair clearly frustrated. “Too proud to tell me you can’t stand the thought of spending three days alone so instead you just torture yourself for no reason when all you had to do was fucking ask me not to go.”

“You wouldn’t have stayed just because I asked you to,” Draco pointed out, his mind whirling at the thought of that possibility.

“Yes, I fucking would.”

There was an odd second where they stared into each other’s eyes, and then Harry was on him, kissing him frantically, shoving against him so hard that they tumbled down onto the couch even as Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s back and pulled him close.

“Fuck you, Draco Malfoy,” he mumbled between the kisses, before starting on Draco’s neck and licking and sucking a trail down the pale skin until he reached the shirt collar and settled for biting at whatever flesh he could reach.

“Fuck, Harry!” Draco gasped, wishing harder than he’d ever wished before that he could do something. Run his hands through Harry’s hair, or wrap his arms around him too, or just reach up and rip his Auror issue robes from his back so that he could access the skin beneath.

Almost as if he could read his mind, Harry sat up with a frustrated growl, tugged off his boots and then yanked off his robes before lying back down on top of Draco wearing only his trousers and a thin t-shirt. Immediately his hands were in Draco’s hair and his tongue was back in Draco’s mouth and Draco groaned into the kisses, not really caring hot they’d got to this point.

At some point Harry rolled them over so that Draco was on top and though he wasn’t sure how he’d got there, just as he wasn’t sure about a lot of things right now, Draco used the opportunity to sink his own teeth into Harry’s neck causing him to gasp and pant and buck his hips upwards into Draco’s. Draco grinned and repeated the action again and again as he felt Harry wriggling and squirming, trying to achieve goodness knows what with his wand.

A moment later he knew. There was a tearing sound and then cool, lubricated fingers slipping over his arsehole.

“What the fuck? Did you just tear my trousers, Harry?” he said, using his shoulders to flex himself up a little and stare down at Harry incredulously.

“I’ll repair them later,” Harry mumbled distractedly, and then successful distracted Draco too by shoving two fingers inside his arse at once.

“Fuck, what happened to starting slowly?”

“Can’t,” Harry panted, now desperately using his other hand to tug at the fastenings on his own trousers, “Need to fuck you now.”

“Bloody hell.” If he hadn’t been fully hard before, he definitely was at those words. Draco let Harry line him up and then lower him far too quickly onto his cock. “Merlin, Harry,” he breathed, pain flooding through his mostly unprepared muscles. Harry hesitated for a second and then reached up, pulling Draco down into a sloppy, heated kiss. Draco hadn’t even realised he’d relaxed until he felt Harry start to thrust with his hips and he broke the kiss in favour of trying to maintain his balance.

It was difficult with him on top like this, but Harry gripped his hip with one hand and braced his shoulder with the other and Draco’s knees were firmly wedged against the cushions so that he could help set the rhythm, and somehow it all worked. Somehow it felt amazing.

The only problem was that the shallowness of Harry’s thrusts meant he wasn’t hitting Draco’s prostate most of the time. Or maybe it isn’t a problem, Draco thought vaguely as he surrendered himself to the sensation of being stretched and filled and fucked. He was enjoying this just because of those things, just because this was Harry and Harry felt wonderful inside him anyway.

It was clear Harry wasn’t going to last long though and Draco’s cock was throbbing painfully in his trousers, begging to be released. There was nothing he could do about that, but he gasped, “Harry, please,” and Harry snapped his eyes back into focus and reached out with trembling hands to undo the fastenings on his pants.

He managed to at last and Draco gave a groan of relief as his cock sprang free and Harry immediately grabbed it with a hand that was a lot more steady now, pumping in hard, rough strokes that had Draco moaning and writhing and losing his rhythm in seconds.

It wasn’t long before Draco felt the heat build and rise and explode in his groin, shooting long ribbons of come all over Harry’s chest. Harry pushed and thrust through his orgasm until he came too, his eyes widening and his neck arching in a way Draco refused to tear his gaze away from until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer and a spasm in his stomach muscles sent him tumbling down onto Harry’s chest.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and Draco realised he was well and truly fucked in more ways than one.

****************

It was a few moments before either of them spoke or moved. Harry was the first to do so; he touched Draco’s cheek with fingers so gentle Draco wondered if he thought he might break.

“Are you ok?”

Draco sighed. Something had changed and he wasn’t altogether sure he liked it. The way Harry was looking at him was enough for him to know that. Or maybe not, Draco thought when he’d studied him silently for a bit longer. Maybe that subtle light in Harry’s eyes had always been there, he’d just never troubled to notice it before. I’m here and I care, it seemed to say. It made Draco’s insides glow in a way he’d never expected.

“Am I ok?” he repeated, putting the drawl into his voice, because whatever else had changed he was still Draco Malfoy and this was still Potter asking the question. “I can’t move my arms and you’ve damaged my favourite pair of trousers and I’m sticky. Oh yes, everything’s perfect.”

There was a chuckle from underneath him and he felt Harry wriggle. A moment later the stickiness disappeared and there was a fairly decent Reparo charm performed on his trousers.

“Better?” Harry asked casually.

“I suppose two out of three isn’t bad,” Draco conceded. There was a pause. “Actually I’ve thought of another problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t get up unless you help me.” He was sprawled out over Harry’s chest, only managing to look at the other man at all because he was half propped up on a cushion that had wedged itself against Harry’s side.

Harry really did laugh then, and though it wasn’t malicious there was certainly a good deal of amusement behind it. Draco thought perhaps some things hadn’t changed after all as Harry gripped his shoulders, set him upright and then attended to his own trousers.

“Time for dinner, I think,” he announced the moment he had smoothed down his clothes,” I’ll let Kreacher know.” He picked up his suitcase before he left the room, leaving Draco to sit on the sofa and contemplated exactly how pleased he was that Harry hadn’t gone away after all.

He gave it up in the end. It was something he just couldn’t put into words.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 14: Conversation

2015-01-29T20:29:21Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this. To make up for it this is a very long chapter!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 14: Conversation

“Have you been in bed all day?”

“Maybe, yes.”

Draco rolled onto his stomach and kicked his feet into the air, regarding Harry from behind the hair that swung in front of his eyes.

“Have you even got up at all?” Draco frowned and thought about it. Harry probably wasn’t going to count using the bathroom, so he shook his head. “Have you eaten?” Another shake of the head. “Have you done anything?” Another shake. “Merlin Draco, you lazy little git.”

“My arse hurts.”

Harry gave a shout of laughter that made Draco grin, and then he lent forwards and pushed the hair back from Draco’s eyes. “Poor little baby,” he muttered teasingly, which meant Draco went for the only possible retaliation and tried to bite his fingers. That earned him a playful slap to the shoulder.

“Ouch. Don’t make my shoulder hurt too,” he grumbled, “Where’s your magic salve? I want some.”

“You could have had something morning if you hadn’t been such a lazy git.”

It was true. When Harry had left for work this morning he’d tried to make Draco get up and get dressed, but Draco had been comfortable and he didn’t actually think he’d have been able to walk after last night so he’d refused and had gone back to sleep before Harry had even left the house. That was mostly what he’d done all day actually. Slept and grumbled to himself about being an idiot every time Harry stuck his cock up his arse. Next time he was going to be the one fucking Harry, or at least making Harry ride him.

“Be nice Harry,” he grumbled, “It’s your fault my arse hurts so much.”

There was a sigh and then Harry stood up. When Draco peered up at him he had his hands on his hips. “Fine, I’ll get you some, but you’re going to wash and dress and eat something and then we’re going for a walk. If you don’t do some physical exercise you are never going to sleep tonight.”

Draco wrinkled his nose. A walk did not sound like the sort of thing he wanted to do right now, but the promise of the salve was too alluring so he nodded and gave Harry his most charming smile when the man produced the tub.

Harry blinked in shock at the expression, which made Draco feel rather smug. At least he could still surprise him with some things.

**************************

Some time later after Harry had given him a shower and helped him dress and fed them both dinner, he had practically manhandled a protesting Draco into his coat and herded him out the door for a walk. It was only once they were outside, on the dark, quiet streets that Draco realised this was the first time in three months that he’d been outside at night.

The realisation hit him like a thunderbolt and he turned his head to the sky, straining to see the stars that were washed out by the street lamps.

Harry seemed to realise too, for he didn’t say anything, but after a few minutes of letting Draco just stare he turned and led the way through the streets taking a path Draco had never gone down in any of his walks before. It led, eventually, to a river, where it was darker than ever and Draco had some trouble seeing the path in front of him as they walked along, Harry setting a brisk pace, as if he wanted to wear Draco out in the hope that he would sleep later.

Draco kept up because he couldn’t bear to be outstripped by Potter, but inevitably his pride caused him to stumble and it was only Harry’s quick reflexes that prevented him from falling flat on his face, since there was no chance of catching himself on his useless hands.

“Are you ok?” Harry’s voice was full of concern, and Draco could see him peering into his face in the darkness, as if he needed to see the truth in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, thankful when there was no tremble in his voice. In truth the fall, something which he’d managed to avoid doing up to this point, had shaken him quite a lot. Not being able to thrust your hands out to catch hold of anything or make any move to prevent your face coming into very sudden and painful contact with the ground was more frightening than Draco had thought possible. The sense of being out of control was overwhelming, and he felt it more completely now than he had since the first week this had started.

His heart was still thudding painfully in his chest when he felt Harry take hold of his hand and grip tightly, starting off along the path again as if this was completely normal.

“What are you doing Potter?” he asked, following simply because to not follow would have pitched him forwards onto his face for certain.

“You scared the shit out of me Draco. What if I don’t catch you next time?” Harry sounded grim and determined. Draco couldn’t risk a dig.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you dragged me down a pitch black path.”

“It’s a nice walk.”

“I’m sure it’s nicer when you can see where you’re going.”

“It’ll be worth it, trust me.”

Draco lapsed into silence then. Harry had said those words before and been right, he really didn’t feel like arguing with them right now. Besides he was concentrating very hard on checking exactly where he was putting his feet and the sound of the river next to them was a lot more soothing than the sound of him and Harry having an argument about exactly why they were holding hands.

Two hours later the river eventually opened up into a lake, and Draco realised they’d walked right out into the countryside, leaving the lights of the town far behind them. Tired and annoyed at Potter for dragging him so far in the first place Draco had opened his mouth to grumble when Harry had reached out and tilted his chin to the sky.

The complaints died on Draco’s lips. High above him hung a canopy of stars, far more beautiful than anything he had seen since his time at Hogwarts when he’d been too young and too annoyed about having to learn the names of them to really appreciate their beauty.

He gasped, and practically heard Harry grinning next to him.

“You know, you really don’t need to be holding my hand now we aren’t walking,” he pointed out, just to give the smug git something to feel embarrassed about. They’d come to a halt on a small jetty that reached out over the lake and Harry was still gripping tightly onto his hand.

There was a chuckle, which surprised him, but he didn’t bother to turn his head to look at Harry. “Are you kidding? You’ll probably fall in the water the second I let you go just so that I’m forced to jump in and rescue you.”

“Not a bad idea Potter,” Draco drawled, “But it’ll probably mess up my hair so I think you’re safe.”

Another laugh, this time he grinned too and they both stood and looked at the stars for more time than Draco cared to reckon. Harry didn’t let go of his hand.

Afterwards Harry apparated them home straight to his bedroom and there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about in that. Draco didn’t worry about it either when he tumbled into Harry’s arms, kissed him passionately and let Harry ride his cock until they both reached the dizzy heights of orgasm.

He stayed in Harry’s bed again that night and decided that Harry had been right. It was worth it in the end.

***********************

When he woke he was thankful to realise he was on his side of the bed and Harry was very firmly on his, something which was only partially spoilt when Harry reached out and poked him in the shoulder.

“Draco are you awake?”

“No,” he mumbled, rolling himself more firmly into the pillows and resolving not to get up quite yet.

“Yes you are, I’m horny.”

“Fucking hell Potter I fucked you last night how can you be horny again?”

Says Mr I-Wank-Everyday.”

“There’s your solution then, have a wank.”

“Draco you’re right here in the bed, I’m not having a wank now.”

“So now you go all prudish? Seriously?” That was too good to pass up, Draco turned and gave him a scathing look, opening his mouth to add another snarky comment when sadly he was interrupted by a tapping at the window.

“Oh, owl post,” Harry said helpfully, as if Draco might not have recognised the noise. With a wave of his wand the window slid open and not one, but three owls entered, flapping around the room and finally settling on the bed hooting softly.

Draco grumbled as one of the owls landed on his stomach, and carried on grumbling until Harry sat up, relieved the owls of their packages and paid them their money. Once they’d gone Harry immediately settled back on the pillows and opened the Daily Prophet he’d just received, seeming to have completely forgotten about his earlier fussing about sex.

Draco struggled to sit up as well, managing it when Harry grabbed his shoulders and hauled on him, before arranging the pillows for him with a shake of his head and a grin.

“You really have to stop sleeping in my bed Draco,” he muttered amusedly as he went back to his paper. There was probably a snarky retort for that Draco thought vaguely, but his eye had been caught by one of the magazines the owl post had brought. There was The Quibbler, which Draco could at least explain as loyalty to Loopy Luna, but the other he couldn’t actually believe.

“Potter, why have you got a subscription to Witch Weekly?”

“Hmm?” Harry was absorbed in the paper and didn’t reply for a second, but then his eyes flicked dismissively to the magazine and he grinned. “Oh that, I just like to check they haven’t printed anything about me.”

“I didn’t have you down as someone who worried about the lies they print in that rag.”

That got him a snort of laughter. “I don’t, but it gets quite embarrassing when reporters ask you questions and you haven’t got the foggiest idea what they’re talking about. Not to mention the fact that I at least like to know why I’m being stared at in the corridors at work.”

Draco sniggered at that. “Makes sense I guess.”

“A couple of months ago they printed a kiss and tell story from some girl called Mandy who claimed I’d been in a secret relationship with her for a year.”

Draco raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “You’re gay.”

“I’m well aware that I’m gay thank you.” Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco thought he’d rather missed the point. “Apparently this girl thought she was so amazing she’d managed to change my sexuality. Personally I don’t think she exists at all, but I had a lot of angry Weasley’s on my hands after that one.”

“You mean they believed it?” Draco was incredulous. He knew the Weasley’s were stupid, but surely not that stupid?

“Well I don’t think so really, but me coming out as gay was probably the only acceptable excuse for breaking Ginny’s heart. The idea that I might not be caused a bit of friction.”

“They believed you in the end though, right?”

“Of course they did. Actually it was Ginny who convinced them I was telling the truth. I guess she knew better than anyone, since she was the one who was there when I decided I was gay.”

“What do you mean, when you decided you were gay? You don’t decide to be gay Potter, you either are or you aren’t!”

“All right, maybe decided is the wrong word. Realised maybe. I guess I knew I was for a while before I came out, but I’d been trying to ignore it. Then one morning I just woke up, looked at Ginny and knew I couldn’t deny it anymore.”

“So you just woke up one day and said, “Good morning, Ginny, by the way I’m gay”?” Draco blinked at him stupidly, but seriously, who the hell did that?

Harry shrugged. “Pretty much. It came as a bit of a shock to her. When she got over it she told me she knew things were over between us before that but she never expected it to be for that reason.”

“Merlin, Harry, who the hell wakes up one day and just announces that they’re gay?”

“Well when did you realise you were gay?”

That was an easy one. Draco had never been ashamed of his sexuality. “When I was in fifth year at Hogwarts and I snogged Blaise in the potions cupboard,” he said promptly.

“I didn’t know Blaise was gay!”

Draco rolled his eyes and grinned. “Actually I think Blaise is pretty much anyone-that-will-have-him, which yes, happens to include males when it comes to me.”

Harry’s jaw dropped open, Draco resisted the urge to tell him he looked like a rather stupid fish. “You’re… I mean… you and Blaise…?” He trailed off, apparently unable to contemplate the awfulness of the thoughts. Draco frowned at him for a moment, wondering what was so disgusting about the idea of him and Blaise having sex and then realised what stupid, idiotic Harry was actually thinking.

“Merlin Harry, we fuck, he isn’t my boyfriend.” The look of relief on Harry’s face showed that Draco had been right in his assumption at least. “Do you think I’d have done anything with you if he was?” He shook his head, feeling inexplicably mortified by Harry’s opinion of him, “I know you think I’m a pretty awful person Potter but I’d like to think I have a bit more decency than that.”

Harry blushed and mumbled something that might have been an apology. Draco blew a strand of hair from his own eyes and pursed his lips.

“Besides I don’t do relationships but if I did then I’d like to think whoever I was with would love me enough to look after me in this state, rather than palming me off on my worst enemy.” It was true. Draco didn’t do relationships. He didn’t like soppiness, or romance, or even letting people too close, but even he could admit in his heart of hearts that the idea of having someone care for him that much was not without its merits. He did want to be loved, but he’d long ago concluded that no one would ever love him in the way he needed, which even he suspected was rather selfish.

“I’m your worst enemy?” Harry said, chuckling, “I’m flattered, Draco.”

Draco frowned. “All right fine, my worst enemies are the little shits who think it’s all right to try and kill me, but you come pretty close.”

It was total nonsense of course, Harry was about as far away from being his worst enemy right now as it was possible to get, but Draco wasn’t about to let him know that. In the end Draco thought he might know anyway judging by the way he grinned.

“Since you have no boyfriend and you’re stuck with me, what do you want to do today?” he asked, “Do you want to come to Quidditch again?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going out?” he asked, because apart from last weekend that’s what Harry always did. Draco had assumed things would be back to normal now.

“Well no.” Harry rubbed his hand through his hair and actually looked a little embarrassed. Draco was intrigued and peered at him closer, wondering if there was something wrong. “I thought you might like to do something today.”

Merlin, the man was blushing. It was actually quite sweet. Draco grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Harry’s sudden torrent of words. “Look I realise you aren’t my friend or anything, but I also realise I’ve been a bit unfair on you. I mean I’ve been looking after you sure, but I haven’t actually done anything to make your life pleasant have I? You obviously don’t want to contact your friends and I’m guessing that’s from some leftover Slytherin nonsense about not wanting to show weakness, and that’s fine, you don’t have to, but that means I’m all you’ve got and I’ve just left you with nothing to do and no one to talk to half the time. That’s not fair.”

Draco stiffened. “I don’t need your charity, Potter,” he said, trying to look down his nose at Potter in spite of his too long hair that was getting in his eyes.

“It’s not charity, Draco.” Harry sounded frustrated and he rubbed at his hair again, making it stick up even more than usual. “It’s just…” He stopped and held out his hand in a gesture of surrender, palm upwards, letting his shoulders relax and his expression soften. “Look I know the offer isn’t great, coming from your second worst enemy, but come on, give me a break here. I’m trying.”

He grinned hopefully, and it was that rather than his words which made Draco roll his eyes and cave in. “All right, fine. If it makes you feel any better I’ll come to Quidditch with you.”

“Good.” Harry grinned again and picked up the paper, resuming his reading with an expression that looked suspiciously to Draco like he was trying not to laugh. He huffed quietly under his breath and tried to adjust his position against the pillows.

“Shit!” He’d leant to far and had tipped, ending up slumped sideways against Harry’s shoulder. There was an actual genuine giggle and then a hand pushing him upright, rearranging the pillows and making sure he was settled comfortably.

“It’s not funny, Potter,” he muttered, when the hand withdrew and the laughter continued.

“No not at all.” There was more quiet laughter, Draco looked sidelong at him, trying to pretend that he wasn’t looking at all. To all intents and purposes Harry appeared to be absorbed in the paper. He leaned over, a little more carefully this time, trying to read some of the articles.

“Wait your turn,” Harry said, trying to push him away.

“Harry,” he whined, “Don’t you know it’s rude to read in bed?”

Harry turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve just completely made that up Draco.”

Of course he’d made it up, but he wanted Harry to pay attention to him damn it. He licked his lips and tilted his head up slightly looking at Harry expectantly. It was only after a second that he realised exactly what the gesture probably looked like, never mind what the hell it had actually been and he jerked his head away so fast he winced in pain. When he risked a look back Harry was staring at him with a slightly glazed expression, which cleared when he realised Draco was looking.

“Stop it, Draco,” he said vaguely, in a tone that made Draco think he didn’t really know why he was saying it, or even what he was saying. He turned back to the paper and Draco let him, looking down at his hands resting on the bedcovers and feeling very confused.

“There’s a bit here about you,” Harry said eventually, after a few moments of reading in silence. “Listen.” He started reading. “Where is Auror Malfoy?” That was apparently the title, for Harry gave a slight pause and then went on. “Three months and thirteen days have passed since Auror Malfoy was hit by the curse that apparently rendered him unfit for duty. At the time a Ministry Official stated that he would be back in action at the end of the three months, however the time has elapsed and he has failed to return to work, or even appear in public at all since February. Where then is Auror Malfoy?"

“You know, I can actually read myself, Potter There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”

“Merlin, Draco!” Harry huffed, but did stop and hold out the paper where Draco could see the article. He scanned the words, reading them to himself much faster than Harry had read them aloud.

There has been no word from the Ministry on Malfoy’s situation, the article continued, Edward Robins, Head of the Auror Department has refused to comment on when, if at all, Malfoy will be returning to his duties. When asked where Auror Malfoy is staying during his recovery period Robins simply replied that Malfoy was being cared for at home. This reporter can exclusively reveal that this is in fact a cover up. Malfoy’s home has now been empty, showing no signs of being lived in, since his disappearance from public duty back in February. What exactly are the Ministry covering up? Is Malfoy really recovering after being hit by a curse in the line of duty or is this all some elaborate ruse to cover up the fact that Malfoy is actually now a rogue agent on the run from the forces of the law? Everyone in the wizarding world is well aware of his family’s history, and although it looked like the handsome heir to the Malfoy fortune was making amends tongues will surely start wagging if he doesn’t return to duty soon.

Draco snorted derisively and shook his head as he finished reading. “Utter crap,” he said loftily, “Apart from the bit about me being handsome of course.”

“Of course,” Harry scoffed, though his grin was one of amusement as he snatched the paper away. Draco went quiet as something else the article had said hit home.

“You know, I didn’t realise it had already been over three months,” he said quietly when he was unable to keep the thought to himself any longer.

The paper was neatly folded and then Harry gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Did you expect your hands to magically start working after exactly three months?” he asked gently.

“Well, no.” Draco wriggled uncomfortably under that gaze. He hadn’t, not really, not in his rational mind, but in his heart he had hoped.

“You know even when the feeling comes back it’s not going to be instantly better.”

“I know, you already told me.” The gentle tone in Harry’s voice actually made Draco want to cry. No one ever spoke to him like that. He stared up at the wooden canopy above him and blinked slowly.

“Maybe you should start doing some exercises now, it might help the feeling come back faster.”

“I really don’t see how, Potter.” Draco kept his eyes firmly on the canopy. He really didn’t think he’d be able to stand seeing the expression on Harry’s face right now.

“Well, you can still feel your shoulders right? You can still use the muscles there?” He paused and Draco forced himself to nod. “Sometimes you act like you can’t. If you want to be able to do anything when the curse wears off you need to start making sure you’re doing something with them. You need to stop holding them so tense all the time,”

“If your arms felt like mine, you’d hold your shoulders tense too,” Draco said bitterly, still not bothering to turn his head in Harry’s direction.

“You can’t feel your arms,” Harry pointed out.

“You know what I mean.”

There was a sigh and Harry started shifting around. “Kneel up a minute,” he instructed, and then at Draco’s puzzled frown grabbed him and started twisting him until Draco caved in and helped Harry to arrange him so he was kneeling facing away from the other man.

“What’s all this about?” he asked, once he was fully settled, “I’m not sure I trust you back there.”

There was a snigger from Harry at that and then his hands were suddenly on Draco’s shoulders. Draco flinched away and the hands gripped tighter, pulling him back upright. “Relax Draco, I’m just going to help you do some exercises. You’re far too tense. Now – roll your shoulders forwards.”

Draco did so if only for the sake of getting this over with as soon as possible. Harry’s hands on his skin did funny things to his brain.

“Ok good, now do it ten times forwards and ten times backwards.”

“Really, Potter…”

“Don’t whine Draco, just do it.”

Draco huffed. “Fine but I really don’t see the point.”

He did by the time he’d finished the ten rotations each way that Harry had required. His muscles were stiff and now they ached unpleasantly.

“Good. See what I mean now?” Harry’s grip moved down to just below his elbows. “Now, we’re going to lift your arms out to the sides and you’re going to hold them there for thirty seconds. Go on.”

“This is ridiculous.” Draco felt like a complete fool kneeling here naked with Harry behind him, poking and prodding and issuing orders as if he was some sort of Healer who actually knew what he was talking about.

“Just get on with it Draco. Merlin, I swear you’re like a whiny little child sometimes.”

“Shut it Potter,” he snapped, but the insult probably had the desired effect because Draco did lift his arms and did hold them up whilst Potter counted. His lower arms and hands felt like dead weights, despite Harry supporting them slightly, and by the time the count was up Draco felt like his muscles were on fire.

“Now out in front.” Harry said, the moment his arms dropped.

“Seriously, Potter, give me a break.”

“No,” said Harry, and this time he sounded quite cross. “I should have made you do this ages ago. Your muscles that you can use have weakened, we shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much Potter.” Draco tried to make it sound like a drawl, but he didn’t quite manage it. Harry was angry with himself Draco realised. Angry because he felt guilty for not helping Draco enough. It was a completely new idea that anyone would want to help him at all even this much, yet alone actually feel bad for not helping enough.

“Don’t flatter yourself Draco, it’s only that you don’t look good when you’re this skinny.”

“I’m not skinny!” At least the words had stopped the fluttering in Draco’s stomach and replaced it with a quick flare of annoyance instead.

“Yes, you are.”

Merlin, what was Harry trying to do to him? The fluttering came back as Harry slipped his arms underneath Draco’s and trailed them up his sides.

“See I can feel all your ribs now,” he said conversationally, as if running his hands over Draco’s naked body was something completely normal, “You don’t eat enough.” The hands swept down and around to his back, before they slipped away and instead a finger jabbed at his arse. “Even your arse has gone skinny,” Harry said teasingly.

“I do not have a skinny arse!”

“Well not normally this skinny,” Harry conceded, “But it is a bit since you stopped running.”

Draco stiffened. “What are you talking about, Potter?”

There was a momentary pause behind him. Draco heard Harry let out a long, slow breath before he said, “It’s hardly a secret is it? You like running. You’re always on the treadmill in the gym at the office.”

It was true that he liked running, but Draco put that aside for a moment in favour of saying, “In the what?”

“I mean the physical training room. You’re always running.”

Draco was not about to let that slip-up go. “Why did you call the room Jim?”

There was another pause; Draco could almost hear Harry’s frown of confusion behind him. After a moment though there was a snigger as if Harry had just worked something out. “Not Jim as in the name, gym as in short for gymnasium. It’s a muggle word for an exercise room.”

“Oh.” Draco stiffened again. “How stupid.”

“Anyway you’re always on that damn treadmill and you don’t even activate your personal recorders half the time. The rest of us do the minimum required of us each month and make sure we record every damn second to our files so we don’t have to do it again. You run all the time, more than you need to. It’s not hard to work out that you like it, though if you wanted that to stay a secret you should have run somewhere other than in the Auror Training Room.”

“It’s not a secret Potter, I just didn’t think anyone had noticed. No one’s ever mentioned it.”

He twisted round now and looked at Harry curiously, noticing that the man seemed to be blushing, though why he couldn’t imagine. There was a shrug. “I noticed.”

That needed a few seconds of thought and then Draco realised that Harry Potter of all people had been paying close attention to his habits, not to mention his personal appearance.

“Yes, so you did. Apparently you noticed my arse too,” he said, giving Harry his most winning smile.

Another shrug, though the blush was still there. “So? You have a nice arse.”

“I though you said it was skinny?” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed harder.

“Fine Draco,” he said in the end with a sigh and a yielding lift of his hands, “What do you want me to say? You have a nice arse and I just happened to notice. It isn’t a crime is it? I am gay you know.”

Draco lifted his chin smugly. “I knew it.”

“What?”

“You think I’m attractive,” he said triumphantly, tilting his head to the side and regarding Harry coyly from under his eyelashes. “At least you have good taste I suppose.”

“Seriously, Draco? I say you’ve got a nice arse and suddenly I’m your number one fan? You’re a skinny little git. I do not find you attractive.”

Draco yelped as Harry reached out and shoved him over, causing him to fall onto the mattress in an ungainly sprawl. He rolled onto his back immediately and then tried to use his legs to stop Harry from jumping on top of him. It completely failed.

“What are you doing, Potter?”

“You might be an insufferable skinny little git,” Harry said, using his advantage to straddle Draco’s thighs and then pin him to the bed with his body. “But I am horny.”

“Potter you are not using me for your sexual gratification!” Draco yelped, trying to kick out at Harry’s legs. It really wasn’t helping that he could feel the other man’s erection pressing into his stomach. “You can use your hands, you can wank.”

“I don’t want to wank, this is much better,” said Harry smugly, capturing Draco’s hands and pinning them to the bed above his head. Draco resisted the urge to tell him that the gesture was entirely pointless since he couldn’t use his hands anyway because actually it felt good to have the firm pressure of Harry’s weight resting there. “Think of it as payment for all the times I’ve assisted you.”

“Potter!” He was cut off by a thrust of Harry’s hips, which changed any words coming from his throat into a moan of pleasure. “Fuck you Potter, I am not your sex toy.”

“I know you aren’t,” Harry suddenly sounded serious, but when Draco met his eye he could see the amused glint there, “But you’re enjoying this all the same.”

“Fuck off, Potter I’m not enjoying… umpf!” Harry had thrust again and this time managed to rub their cocks together properly. The noise that escaped Draco rather made a mockery of his claim to not be enjoying this.

“Your body says otherwise,” Harry hissed, his eyes still gleaming as he dipped his head and licked a long stripe up Draco’s neck.

“Don’t lick me, Potter! I’m not a lollipop,” he snapped crossly, trying to twist his head out the way as Harry did it again.

There was another lick, but Harry’s hips had gone still and then he propped himself up so he could look properly into Draco’s eyes. “Fine,” he said, mischievously, “I’ll just stop then shall I and get off? I’m sure your little problem will go away eventually.” He did actually go to climb off then. Draco yelped and tried to follow him with his hips.

“Don’t you dare, Potter, you can’t leave me here like this.”

“I thought you didn’t want this?” came the teasing reply.

“Fuck you, Potter!” There was a quirked eyebrow from Harry and then he settled back down again and ground their hips together, locking his hands around Draco’s again. “What the hell do you like doing this so much for anyway?” Draco managed to say through gritted teeth as he attempted not to cry out in pleasure.

“Haven’t you come like this before we did it?” Harry asked, with a good deal more curiosity than Draco really appreciated given that the man was supposed to be so turned on.

“Not really,” he grunted, pushing his hips up towards Harry’s and throwing his head back as he felt the hardness of Harry’s length rubbing against his own. “There are other ways I’d rather be coming.”

“Really?” Harry had stilled his hips again and Draco thought he was going insane, trying to buck and grind upwards to get more of that wonderful friction.

Fuck. “No, not really,” he gasped, “Not right now.” And he meant it, because actually fucking someone’s arse was amazing, but this right here was wonderful in a whole different way. Something about having Harry’s cock so close to his, eliciting such glorious sensations through his body, felt so right. He supposed it would feel like this with any other man’s cock as well, but right now it was Harry’s that was here and Draco really didn’t want to think about anyone else’s.

“Harry,” he moaned, lifting his legs and locking them around Harry’s hips to try and increase the friction.

“Fuck, Draco!” His head dropped into Draco’s shoulder and finally he started moving, grinding and thrusting and grinding until the air was filled with breathless gasps and lustful moans and cries of fuck yes and harder until neither of them could stand it anymore and Harry released one of Draco’s hands to grab their cocks and stroke them both together in time with their thrusting. The other hand buried itself in Draco’s hair and tugged hard.

With a cry half of pleasure half of surprise Draco came, shooting his come over their chests and stomachs. Harry didn’t let up with his hand and by the time he came too a few moments later Draco was babbling incoherently, his stomach muscles convulsing with each stroke of Harry’s hand.

“Fuck, Harry, stop,” he panted desperately, unable to take anymore. Harry eyed him blearily, still in his own haze of pleasure, then released their cocks and instead dipped his head to lick another line up Draco’s neck all the way to his ear.

“Hmm,” he hummed and Draco could feel him smiling against his ear. This time he didn’t really feel inclined to tell Harry off for licking him, as far as he was concerned right now the man could lick him all day, so long as he got round to licking some body parts other than his neck.

“I guess we should have breakfast,” Harry said eventually, rolling off them and reaching for his wand from the bedside table.

They did have breakfast, this time it was porridge, which Draco consented to allow Harry to feed him and Harry achieved by just sharing the bowl with him, taking alternate bites, much like they did at dinner. Halfway through the second bowl Draco refused anymore and Harry finished it off, giving him a look and muttering under his breath about how Draco really was too skinny for his own good.

Draco was in too good a mood to argue. He let Harry wash him in a shared shower and dress him afterwards without complaint before Harry went off to answer a Floo call. With him gone Draco let Kreacher brush his teeth, something which he still refused to let Harry do and then made his way downstairs to see if Harry was done.

“He is not getting in my head Ron, I’m perfectly capable of dealing with Draco without having some sort of mental breakdown,” Harry was saying when Draco arrived at the door to the sitting room. He hesitated just as he was about to push it open, coming to a standstill instead and pressing his ear to the crack in the door.

“Look mate, I’m just saying this is Malfoy we’re talking about. He won’t be even a tiny bit grateful once this is over.” Draco could picture Weasley’s head in the flames of the fireplace, probably with his usual stupid expression on his face.

“I’m not after his gratitude Ron, I’m just trying to make his life a bit more pleasant.”

“He wouldn’t do it for you,” Ron replied darkly. Draco could almost picture the scowl on his face.

“So?” Harry said, and Draco could hear the note of exasperation creeping into his voice now, “Don’t you think of me as a better person than Malfoy?”

Outside the door Draco scowled, both at the sudden, jarring use of his last name and the words themselves.

“But this is Malfoy Harry. He’s jumped up little git who thinks he’s the only person in the world who matters.”

Harry muttered something which Draco could swear sounded like, “Well someone has to think that about him.”

“Harry you’re acting like you actually care about him,” Ron said, sounding incredulous now. Draco felt his stomach give an inexplicable little flutter until Harry spoke again, his voice louder again now.

“Look, Ron, he’s an insufferable prat most of the time, but he didn’t ask to be cursed.” Draco’s stomach seemed to disappear into the floor.

“I know that. I just don’t see why you’d choose to hang out with him instead of with us.”

“It’s not a matter of choosing him over you Ron, you know I’d love to come round, but you know this is the right thing to do. It’s partly our fault he’s in this mess in the first place. If we hadn’t hung back to check on the dragons in that raid he probably wouldn’t have been hit by that curse.”

That was it. Draco couldn’t stand this any longer. He completely refused to be some charity case for Potter to give his time to just because he felt sorry for him. He didn’t need Potter’s sympathy and he didn’t need his company.

He shoved the door open with his foot, causing it to bounce off the wall and strode into the room.

“Well, well,” he said, bending down so he could see into the fire whilst Harry jumped and practically gawped up at him from where he was sitting on the floor. “Look who it is, the Weasel himself. Don’t worry little Weasel, you’re welcome to Potter’s company if you want it, Merlin knows I don’t need him polluting my airspace.

Ron’s face turned that interesting shade of red that Draco thought rather blurred the boundary between his skin and hair, as it so often did when Draco wound him up. “Fuck off Malfoy! I’d think you’d show a little more gratitude in your situation.”

“Oh yes, I’m so fucking grateful that you and Potter spent your time fussing over a bunch of dragons whilst I was getting cursed by a desperate criminal,” he spat, genuinely wound up to the point where he thought he might kick Ron’s face if he tried to make any more smart comments, “I’m really fucking grateful that I’m stuck here with only Potter for company whilst you’re out there getting on with your life. So sorry I didn’t make my gratitude clear.”

Had his muscles been working he was sure his hands would have been shaking with anger right now but they weren’t and all he could do was grind his teeth together and turn away, noticing Potter shooting Ron a look that clearly said, “Leave it,” before Ron yelled,

“Fucking ferrety git, let me through Harry, he’s not getting away with that one,” and Draco kicked one of the side tables so hard the leg snapped and the whole thing collapsed.

“Ron, I’ll call you later,” Harry said firmly, and whatever Ron was going to say in reply to that was cut off as Harry snapped his Floo connection closed. Draco didn’t wait to hear what he had to say, he ran from the room and made for the stairs, ignoring Harry’s shouts of, “Draco wait!” and hitting the stairs running.

Of course running up the stairs was not a good thing to do when you can’t use your arms. Draco knew that, it was why he’d never done it till now, and now, half blinded by anger and hurt and disappointment he couldn’t explain, was not a good time to start. He tripped on the fifth step, managed to fling his arms out only enough that they bounced uselessly off the stairs first and completely failed to prevent his forehead from coming down hard on the edge of the wooden step with a sickening crack.

Darkness descended and Draco felt himself sliding before everything went black.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 13: Date

2015-01-24T21:38:11Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Please don't hate me for this! I promise it will all be fine!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 13: Date

“Hello!”

Draco looked up from the book Kreacher was holding up for him to read and tried to pretend that it was coincidence he was in here when Harry arrived home from work that evening.

“You’re early,” he said, just to add to the idea.

“No I’m not, it’s the usual time.” Harry had practically bounced across the room and was now handing Kreacher his cloak to put away.

“Oh.” Draco had planned to act surprised at that, but Harry’s jubilant mood had thrown him off slightly. “What are you so happy about anyway?”

Harry actually looked slightly less buoyant at that and settled down slightly, trailing through to the study, forcing Draco to follow him if he wanted to hear the answer.

“I’m going on a date,” he said finally, sounding slightly guilty. At least Draco thought he sounded guilty but that might just have been his imagination.

“Oh.” For a moment Draco felt his heart sink and then he shook himself, because why on earth would his heart be sinking at that? What did he care if Potter had a date? “Who with?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light and casual. If he didn’t at least show some interest Potter would probably get suspicious.

“Martin.”

“Who’s Martin?” Draco asked, when no more information seemed to be forthcoming.

Potter waved a dismissive hand. “You won’t know him. He works in Broomstick Regulation.”

Draco snorted at that and muttered, “Poor guy,” when Potter shot him a questioning look.

“What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously, “Are you saying a date with me would be terrible?”

Draco blinked at him for a second. Potter looked violently angry all of a sudden, which was made all the more strange by the fact that he’d so completely misinterpreted Draco’s words that Draco almost wanted to laugh. Almost. The look on Potter’s face was too venomous for that.

“What I meant Potter,” Draco said slowly and carefully as if speaking too fast might make Potter explode, “Was that Broomstick Regulation is an incredibly boring department to work in.”

“Oh.” Potter deflated instantly, looking almost disappointed. Had he actually wanted a fight?

“So when is this date then?” Draco snapped, feeling slightly miffed by Potter’s odd behaviour.

“Thursday.”

“Right.”

There didn’t really seem to be anything else to say so Draco turned and left the room, pretending he didn’t hear when Potter called his name after him.

********************

The next three days felt like something akin to torture to Draco. With the knowledge that Potter was going on a date in his head Draco felt the polite thing to do was to try and control himself enough that Potter didn’t have to do anything about the fact that his sex drive seemed to have gone into overdrive. He wanted someone to kiss, to fuck, to touch him, to fuck him so hard he couldn’t think straight. He wanted Potter. But that of course was because Potter was the only person here.

Instead what he had was nothing. Even the easy banter he had shared with Potter in between the times he was mad at him for something seemed to have disappeared. Potter dressed him and undressed him. It was the only interaction they had, and on Wednesday when Potter offered to give him a bath Draco resolutely shook his head and turned his back on the other man. It didn’t feel right. It felt like someone else was in the room now watching them, intruding on the private little bubble Draco had set up around them in his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d done it until it had been popped.

By the time Thursday rolled around Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. It didn’t help that Potter seemed to feel the need to visit him in his room and tell him he was about to leave.

“I’m going,” he said, whilst Draco’s brain was far too busy noticing that Potter actually looked incredibly attractive in his green dress robes to pay attention. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Fine,” Draco said. Potter sighed and turned to go, and Draco realised it was now or never. “Why are you going on a date anyway?”

Potter turned and gave Draco a look of such puzzlement that Draco wished he could wave his hand in a dismissive gesture. Instead he settled for darting his gaze to the corners of the room and licking his lips. “What I mean is, why are you going on a date now? I work with you, everyone knows you haven’t been on a date for years.”

At least Potter seemed to understand what he was asking now judging by the look of comprehension that stole across his face. “I just figured it was time,” he said lightly, “Hermione’s been on at me for ages to find someone to settle down with, but I never felt it was the right time. People don’t see me for who I am usually and you can’t settle down with someone like that but I figured enough time has passed by now and I realised I do want someone to share my life with. That means I have to go on dates.”

“Oh. Right.” The blazing look in Potter’s eyes as he’d said he wanted someone to share his life with made Draco’s heart beat just a tiny bit faster. He felt, inexplicably, like it might have something to do with him.

“Will you be ok by yourself?” Why was Potter asking him that? He realised he had his head down, staring at the carpet and snapped it up again, giving Potter the most imperious gaze he could.

“Of course I will Potter. I spend all day by myself. Why wouldn’t I be? Off you go.”

It was a definite dismissal. Not even thick-headed Potter could fail to notice that. He left without another word and Draco immediately regretted saying it. Unfortunately by the time he regretted it enough to follow Potter downstairs and try to say something more, the other man had already disappeared through the Floo.

Disheartened and upset for reasons he couldn’t describe Draco flung himself down on the couch and buried his face in a cushion.

****************

“Draco.”

“Draco!”

“Wake up Draco. What are you doing here?”

Draco groaned and rolled on the couch, blinking until the man above him came into focus.

Oh Merlin it was Potter, apparently back from his date, which must mean it was quite late. Either late or the next morning. Draco let his eyes drift to the windows, saw the darkness outside and felt a knot of tension release in his stomach. It was definitely still evening. Harry hadn’t stayed the night with his date and Draco didn’t think he’d be the type to sleep with someone and leave before morning.

Actually that was a good point, what if he’d brought the man back here and now they were both looking at him lying on the couch like an idiot? He struggled to sit up and managed to glance around the room behind Harry.

When his eyes finally landed on Harry’s face the man gave him such a deep look with those intense, gleaming green eyes that Draco bizarrely felt his cock twitch interestedly in his pants.

“There’s no one else here Draco, just me,” said Harry pointedly.

“Oh.” Draco glared his throat and tried to think of something sensible to say. “How was your date?”

“Ok I suppose.”

“Oh.” He searched for another question, still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes and thoughts and went with. “I must have dropped off. What time is it?”

“About nine.” Harry’s tone was light and he let his gaze drift off to the side wall, but as Draco peered at him with a frown he could see he was trying not to let his lips twitch into a smile.

“Nine?” he echoed, when he decided that no, Potter wasn’t lying. He’d only been gone an hour and a half.

“Is Broomstick Regulation that boring?” He felt jubilant now for no apparent reason and most definitely in the mood to tease Potter about his crap date.

To his surprise Potter didn’t actually seem to mind. He pulled off his dress robes, revealing his bare chest and trousers underneath and sat down on the sofa by Draco’s feet.

“Turns out it really is that boring,” he confirmed, seemingly not about to act like stripping off in front of Draco was anything less than normal, “He was a nice guy, but he was too nice. Do you know what I mean?”

He looked at Draco as if expecting that he really would know, although Draco was too busy trying not to stare at Harry’s chest and desperately trying to hide his growing problem to do anything other than nod. Harry seemed content with that though and looked back towards the fireplace.

“He probably thought he had to be perfect for the Chosen One,” Draco suddenly blurted out after a moment of pensive silence. He was surprised at his own words and Harry seemed equally surprised.

“Maybe,” he said looking at Draco speculatively.

“Either that or he really was the most boring man ever to walk the earth,” Draco added, sniggering at his own insult. To his amazement, rather than defending his date, Harry gave a snort of laughter and a joking slap on the leg.

“He was boring,” he whined suddenly, “He was boring and nice and proper and I don’t think he’d ever even heard of the word sex, let alone had it. I can’t date someone like that.”

It was Draco’s turn now to laugh. “I see,” he said nodding wisely, “Now we get to the real problem. Harry Potter’s insatiable need for sex.”

“I’m not insatiable Draco,” said Harry crossly, then paused, seemed to consider things for a second and added, “I am horny though.”

The yelp Draco gave as Harry flung himself on top of him and bore him down onto his back was most undignified. So was the moan he gave when their hips met and their erections rubbed together through their trousers.

“Harry, what the fuck are you doing?” he managed to stutter as Harry dropped his head against his shoulder and gave a grunt as he started to grind their bodies together.

“Are you fucking kidding me Draco?” he muttered, “I need to come right now.”

Since Draco rather thought he was feeling the same way he couldn’t really object. He bucked his hips upwards and arched his neck, inviting Harry to suck at the skin there. It was an invitation Harry accepted with such enthusiasm that for a while all else was forgotten.

It was only when Draco shifted and realised that his cock was so hard it was in danger of ripping through his trousers that he remembered he needed something more. He whimpered and Harry thrust, sending a spike of pleasure through his body.

“Fuck Harry,” he gasped, “I haven’t come in four days. I’m going to fucking explode if you don’t make me come right now.”

Another jerk of Harry’s hips, rubbing their straining cocks together through far too many layers of clothing. Draco’s cock was throbbing almost painfully and he didn’t think he’d ever needed a release more than he did right now.

Luckily Harry seemed to feel the same because he grabbed at Draco’s hips, continuing to thrust until Draco was a writhing, whimpering mess and he knew he was embarrassing himself, but this just felt too good, and he was too hard, and he needed Harry so badly.

“Fuck Harry, please,” he whimpered, “Harder.” And Harry obliged, repositioning himself so there was more of that perfect friction and pouring out obscenities into Draco’s ear as he rubbed their hips together frantically.

“Harry, oh fuck Harry I’m-“ was all Draco managed to choke out before Harry himself let out a groan that let Draco know he was coming and Draco joined him, grinding desperately against the other man as he spilled white hot fluid inside his pants, gasping with the sheer relief of his release.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he came down and realised that he was still horny and Harry was still grinding their hips together.

“I’m taking you upstairs right now Draco and I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Harry growled and then before Draco could object he found himself snatched up off the couch and carried up the stairs.

“I can walk Harry,” he grumbled as the other man pushed open the door to his bedroom, rather than Draco’s.

“Not for long,” came the reply in a voice far too guttural for Draco’s lust filled mind to take. He thought if he hadn’t just come he might have seriously embarrassed himself right then and there.

A few minutes later he was definitely seriously embarrassing himself and he found that he really didn’t care. Harry was fucking him with slow, shallow strokes, just brushing the very edge of his prostate with each thrust, sending him completely mindless with desire and breaking down every inhibition he’d ever had.

“Fuck Harry, come on, give me more,” he panted, trying to hitch his knees up higher to encourage Harry deeper, “Come on, fuck me properly Harry. Fuck me hard. I want you to pound me into this mattress till I beg you to stop and then I want you to fuck me harder.”

“Fuck.” The result was not what Draco wanted, Harry stopped moving entirely and looked down on him with a wicked smirk. “You have such a filthy mouth Draco Malfoy, you need to hear yourself.”

“Harry!” He was whining now, and then in one glorious moment he realised that actually he didn’t need his hands right now. Not with Harry on that angle, not when he was gripping him like that and leaning just so. He wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist and pulled forwards so suddenly that Harry didn’t have time to stop the motion. Draco moaned as Harry’s cock was driven more completely inside him and pushed harder against his prostate.

“Fucking yes,” he groaned and used the leverage he had now to grind his arse against Harry’s cock as hard as he could, relishing the pleasure that exploded through his body. “That’s it, right there. So fucking good Harry.” He rolled and ground until Harry growled and snatched at his hips and pulled himself out a little way.

“That’s it, fuck me properly Harry,” he panted, throwing his head back with a half choked moan as Harry surged forwards and hit that spot deep inside him. “Again.” Merlin, Harry was going so slowly, and yet it felt so damn good Draco didn’t know whether he wanted him to get on with it or draw it out for as long as possible.

He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his head to the side, letting out soft grunts of approval every time Harry thrust into him. It went on for a long time, so long that Draco lost track of everything else, his whole world just the feel of Harry’s cock sliding in and out, and the sounds of Harry’s own grunts of pleasure, and the vision of lights that danced before his eyes.

“Fuck Draco, I can’t take this anymore.”

Draco snapped his eyes open and then yelped as Harry grabbed his legs and forced them up and over his shoulders, leaning forwards and almost bending him in half as he reached for the headboard behind him.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he breathed as he started to thrust in this new position, “So fucking good.”

Merlin he was so deep. Too deep. Draco’s prostate screamed in protest and then gave up, giving itself over to indescribable waves of ecstasy that had Draco’s every nerve burning with white hot pleasure. If he’d thought he needed to come earlier it was nothing to how he felt now.

“Fuck! Fuck!” It was all he could say for a minute, and then he suddenly found his words. “Yes, right there. Fuck me harder. Come on Harry, harder. Faster. Harder. Fuck harder!” And Merlin it was possible to get harder because Harry was gripping the headboard and his hips were snapping forwards so fast Draco thought it should probably hurt and he knew he was going to be sore in the morning and he knew they’d both probably regret this, but right now the only important thing was that Harry had to do this harder. He needed to be fucked. He needed to hurt.

“Yes, yes. So close. Harder Harry. Fuck me!”

Draco dropped his eyes closed, feeling his climax snapping and curling inside him, threatening to release, not quite there yet.

“Look at me Draco.” Harry’s order, given in breathless pants was enough for Draco to snap his eyes back open. Harry was panting and gasping a sheen of sweat covering his skin as he drove his hips forwards, his green eyes brighter than Draco had ever seen them before. “So fucking good Draco. I want to hear you scream. Come for me Draco. Scream for me.”

“I need to come.” Draco knew he was babbling, but there was no way to stop the words. “I need to come. Fuck Harry. Fuck!” And Draco came. His orgasm hit so suddenly that every muscle in his body convulsed and his vision darkened even though he kept his eyes open and he needed to touch his cock so badly he was almost surprised the curse didn’t break under the sheer force of that need. He felt Harry’s hand close around the shaft, even as he continued fucking his arse and Draco really did scream then, a sharp, guttural cry as more come shot out over his stomach and he felt Harry emptying himself inside him.

“Oh shit.”

That was Harry, spent and utterly exhausted. Draco let his legs drop down from his shoulders and Harry flopped down on top of him. Wishing he could wrap his arms around him was entirely pointless so he settled instead for nuzzling at the other man’s hair until it earned him a chuckle and the embrace he so desperately wanted and couldn’t return.

“Draco Malfoy, why the hell do you want to cuddle?” Harry was still chuckling, even as he rolled onto his side and pulled Draco firmly into his chest.

“I don’t,” Draco muttered, despite the fact that he was nuzzling his cheek against Harry’s chest to find a comfortable spot to lie, “I just thought you might need one after your terrible date.”

“I think the sex just made up for the terrible date.” There was more chuckling, this time Draco joined in with a snigger of his own. Harry seemed to have decided to run his fingers over Draco’s shoulders, which was sending little shivers through his exhausted body.

“Well I guess you don’t need a cuddle then,” Draco said after a minute of this, trying to sound casual. He wasn’t sure if he’d managed it, but the next moment Harry did actually move, pushing him down onto his back and reaching for his wand. Draco tried not to look disappointed, which was surprisingly easy when he felt the mixture of lube and come trickling from his arse and ended up wrinkling his nose which luckily wiped away every other expression.

The mess disappeared and Harry settled down next to him with a sigh, pulling up the covers around them. “It’s never going to go away is it?” he asked.

“What isn’t?”

“People thinking I’m something I’m not. People thinking that I’m special just because I killed Voldemort. They’re always going to act weird around me aren’t they? Like they have to be extra perfect or extra polite or not talk about the War because I might be traumatised by it.”

“Are you traumatised by it?” Draco couldn’t resist asking.

There was a snort. “Shit happens Draco. A lot of shit happened to me. By the time the War came I was kind of used to it.” There was a pause and then he added, “Not that I’m not sad about it. Too many people died Draco. I was upset about that for a long time. I wish I could have saved them, but I’m not special Draco, I couldn’t save everybody. Now I just try to live my life. They didn’t die so the rest of us could mope around wishing for them back.”

Draco had never really thought about it like that before, but then his experience of the War had been very different from Harry’s.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t expect me to be perfect in return. I knocked over a glass of water when I was on a date once. The man I was with practically had a fit. Apparently I’m supposed to be too perfect to knock over a glass by accident.”

Draco sniggered, “I guess they don’t know what a clumsy git you really are then do they?”

To his surprise Harry laughed too, not seeming to be at all offended. “Exactly. I’m not perfect. I wish people didn’t think I was.”

“I don’t think your perfect Potter. In fact, you’re an insufferable little git most of the time.”

“Just most of the time?” There was still laughter in Harry’s voice.

“You have your moments,” Draco conceded generously. He hadn’t really meant it anyway, at least not the second part. Harry was actually lot more tolerable than he’d ever expected or given him credit for. He was probably only an insufferable git occasionally now.

To his surprise Harry reached out and took his hand, turning it over and then starting to play with his fingers one by one. “Has anymore feeling come back?” he asked, when Draco looked at him curiously, wondering what he was doing. Draco sighed and shook his head. Nothing had changed at all since that one sudden moment a few days ago when some of the nerves had come back to life. He hadn’t lost it again, but no more feeling had returned

There was a matching sigh from Harry and his hand was carefully replaced back where it had been.

“Night Draco,” he murmured and Draco heard him roll over.

He didn’t reply, but he didn’t question the fact that they were sleeping in the same bed again either. He didn’t even bother to think about the ridiculous way he’d acted whilst Potter was fucking him. He just rolled over and went to sleep, surprised to find that his hand was still tingling where Potter had touched it.

**********************

“Draco.”

”Draco!”

Draco woke and gave a sleepy murmur to show he was awake. The room was still dark and he was nice and warm. He was also lying on something.

“You’re on my side of the bed again Draco.”

“Oh.” The something he was lying on was Harry. He rolled away automatically and gave a hiss of disapproval as he was surrounded by the cold sheets that hadn’t been warmed by any body heat. “’S’cold,” he grumbled, and wriggled in frustration when he realised the blankets had come off his shoulders.

There was a sigh that sounded half frustrated, half resigned and then Harry dragged him back across to his side of the bed. He arranged the covers around them and then laid himself down again. Draco murmured happily. Harry’s back was pressed against his and everything was nice and warm again.

He drifted back off to sleep.

A To Do List (And A Request)

2015-01-23T12:58:41Z

So I really need to write myself a list of all the things I need to write, in the hopes that it will motivate me to actually write some of them and not keep starting new things! I have fest entries coming up that I really need to get written so procrastinating really isn't a good thing.

So, the list:

1. Finish 'What Can I Do?' There's so much of this written that I'm definitely not short of material to post, but I really need to write the ending (it's all there in my head, it just needs to come out)

2. Decide whether the fic I've already written for dracotops_harry is the one I'm going to use or whether I'm going to write another one. If not decide whether to just submit it now and snag myself another prompt, the problem being that the other prompt I want to claim is pure smut and my smut muse has vanished at the moment!

3. Finish my entries for hp_kinkfest and do_me_veela. Actually working out how on earth I'm going to get half the prompt into my Veela story would be a really good start!

4. Finish 'Perfect Clarity' and 'The Four Times Harry Lied' in as few words as possible. I'm trying to write shorter stories! I've only ever managed one story under 10k up to now, I'm determined to come up with another one.

5. Redo 'We'll Always Have Paris' and sequels to make them seventh book compliant. I've always wanted to do this, especially because I'm quite proud of at least the first part of that story.

6. I'm thinking of writing one of those like/dislike posts because I love reading them, especially when I'm doing a prompt someone's posted. Maybe no one else is interested, but I think I'll do one all the same.

Finally, if anyone's reading this I'm desperately in need of a beta reader(s) as I have a lot of short stories that need reading. 'What Can I Do?' is un-beta'd and will probably stay that way but most fests insist on work being beta read. I could probably get away with it, but I would far rather my work was beta'd! I'm British so I don't need Brit-pick, just SPaG and someone to tell me when I've gone way OOC or steered my plot into the realms of insanity! :) Please let me know if you're interested and can work fairly quickly as the deadlines are all coming up soon :/

What Can I Do? - Chapter 12: Companionship

2015-01-22T20:10:19Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Oh I really love this chapter! I hope you do too :)

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 12: Companionship

“Draco what are you doing on my side of the bed?”

Draco surfaced from sleep at the sound of Harry’s voice, but didn’t bother to open his eyes, “I think you’ll find it’s my side Potter.”

“No, it’s definitely my side.”

He sounded so certain that Draco opened his eyes and realised that yes, Potter was actually right. He was on Harry’s side of the bed and what’s more he seemed to have crammed himself against Harry’s shoulder in some sort of ridiculous attempt to actually crawl inside the other man. At least, that’s pretty much what it seemed like from the way he was laying.

He groaned and rolled over, back to the other side of the bed.

“S’cold over here,” he mumbled, not quite fully awake yet, “And I’ll have you know Potter that you were over here practically crushing me in the night.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“Tried. Not my fault you sleep like a flobberworm.”

“A flobberworm? What the fuck Draco?” Harry sounded far too amused for Draco’s pride to take. He ran his last sentence through his head again, realised what he’d said and tried to make it sound slightly less weird.

“Unresponsive. Floppy. Like a flobberworm.”

“You really are mental Draco.” There was affection in his voice this time, which inexplicably warmed Draco’s insides, in spite of the cold bed. He chuckled slightly and let himself doze off despite the light coming through the curtains.

“Sit up and eat your breakfast Draco.”

Merlin, couldn’t Potter leave him alone? He couldn’t have been dozing for more than five minutes. He rolled over onto his back and blinked up at Harry, who immediately grabbed him and dragged him into a sitting position despite Draco’s yelp of protest. It also didn’t escape his notice that they were sitting so close their bare shoulders were touching. And their arms.

Actually that was pretty amazing. Draco tensed the muscles in his shoulders and pressed his entire arm against Harry’s side.

“What are you doing?” Harry was looking at him incredulously, and Draco realised that he was practically molesting the other man, whilst they were naked in bed together no less.

“Uh…” He was pretty sure he was blushing, but then to his surprise a look of understanding dawned on Harry’s face and he grabbed at Draco’s hand in excitement.

“I forgot. You can feel!” For some inexplicable reason he seemed to decide that Draco might really want to feel Harry’s cheek and shoved his palm against it. “Can you feel that?”

“It feels warm.” He shrugged and tried to tug his hand away, which was difficult when the only working muscles were the ones in his shoulders. Luckily Harry got the hint and instead held his hand out in front of him for examination.

“Can you move your fingers? Try!” Draco really did try, mostly because he wanted to know himself, but just as always there was no response from his muscles. In fact he couldn’t even really feel that his hands were even there. It was only when something pressed against the nerves that he gained any sensation at all.

“It’ll probably come back soon,” Harry said reassuringly when Draco shook his head and shrugged again, “In the meantime, eat your toast.”

He held out a slice for Draco to bite, feeding himself with his other hand. Draco sighed, he’d done this before he supposed so there was little point in complaining now. They ate in companionable silence and Draco had to admit that having Harry feed him wasn’t quite so embarrassing as he’d thought it might be, probably because most of the time Harry seemed to be paying more attention to his own toast than to feeding Draco, which made Draco feel a lot less degraded by the whole experience. At least Harry wasn’t watching him being helpless.

“Here, drink this.” Harry was holding out a cup of tea and clearly expecting that Draco was going to drink it. So much for him not making Draco feel degraded. He jerked away in horror.

“You’re not giving me a drink Potter!”

“What? Why not? You need to drink.”

“You’re just not ok. It’s… it’s…” He was going to have to say it. “Humiliating.”

Harry stared at him as if he couldn’t actually believe what Draco was saying. “Draco you are naked in bed with me. We’ve had sex. I’ve had your cock in my mouth. Now you want to be all prissy about me giving you a drink? You’re even more mental than I thought.”

“I am not mental Potter. I’ll thank you to stop calling me that.” He turned away a little and tried to look haughtily at Harry out of the corner of his eyes.

“And I’ll thank you to stop being such an idiot.” Somehow Harry had managed to keep all the liquid in the cup whilst rising from the bed like a phoenix rising from the ashes and planting himself on top of Draco so he was straddling his lap. For once Draco gave no thought to his cock, beyond the somewhat relieving observation that Harry actually had his boxers on.

“What are you doing Potter?”

“You’re going to drink this Draco, I’m not giving up till you do.”

“You can’t force me to drink Potter!”

“Yes I can actually, but I’d rather you stopped acting like an idiot and did it yourself. What’s the problem anyway?”

He looked as if he really wanted to know, but all Draco could do was close his eyes and tilt his head back in exasperation. How did he explain the burning humiliation he felt whenever anyone had to do anything for him? He’d got used to being dressed by Harry; he’d got used to the sex because Harry got something out of that too. This was a step too far towards complete and utter dependence on another human being, and Draco didn’t like being dependant on anybody.

“Look I just don’t like it,” he mumbled eventually, cracking his eyes open when Harry’s only response was to grab hold of the back of his neck and press their foreheads together. When he managed to focus on Harry’s face he saw he was grinning.

“Maybe I should get you a straw,” he said teasingly.

Draco frowned and tried to jerk his head away, but Harry’s hand was firm behind his neck. Hopefully the cup of tea was just as secure in his other hand.

“I’m not a child Potter.”

“You’re acting like one.”

“Fuck off.”

“Drink the tea Draco.” The cup suddenly appeared between their mouths. There was only just enough room for it since Harry was still pressing their foreheads together. Harry cocked an eyebrow and took a sip himself.

“See easy,” he said, “Now drink it or I’ll tip it in your lap.”

“What?” Draco jerked again, only stopping when he noticed the liquid slopping dangerously in the cup, “You can’t tip scalding hot tea into my lap Potter! Not even you would go that far.”

“Oh I so would Draco, you aren’t the only one that’s mental you know.”

For some reason Draco wanted desperately to laugh at that. Harry looked so sincere, his eyes bright with his own amusement that Draco found he suddenly wasn’t cross anymore. Instead he found that he wanted to laugh and brush that stupid cup aside so he could pull Harry into a passionate kiss that he was pretty sure would feel amazing.

Since he couldn’t do the last two he ended up doing the first. Laughter bubbled out of him before he could stop it and after a moment of surprise Harry pulled away and laughed too.

“Fine Potter,” he said when they had both stopped laughing, “If it shuts you up I’ll drink the damn tea.”

“Good.” Harry looked far too triumphant as he brought the cup back towards Draco’s lips.

It wasn’t too bad Draco reflected as the liquid entered his mouth. Harry seemed to be concentrating very hard on getting just the right amount of tea to flow from the cup towards his lips and to Draco’s surprise he didn’t spill any. When he’d drunk half the cup Harry removed it.

“There see, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

He was grinning. Draco licked his lips and shook his head.

“I guess not,” he said, and then bobbed his head from side to side to get Harry’s attention because the other man seemed to be staring at his lips in a slightly distracted way. Draco really hoped he didn’t have anything embarrassing on them.

“Right,” Harry said, when he’d blinked and looked away, “Let’s have a shower.”

So they did, and if Draco had surprised Harry by mashing their lips together when Harry decided to wrap both of their hands around both of their cocks and bring them to a mutual orgasm, well that was just because he was happy he could feel things again.

After that little session in the shower Harry had dried them both, dressed them and was now brushing Draco’s hair, another first for which Draco was incredibly grateful. He was sitting in a chair trying to suppress the little shudders of pleasure that the attention was sending down his spine.

“Your hair is very soft, you know,” Harry said thoughtfully, when he’d brushed all the tangles out and Draco suspected he was only continuing because he liked how it felt, “Although it’s got a bit long. You need it cutting.”

“You’re not cutting my hair Potter.”

“No, I’m definitely not cutting your hair. Kreacher does mine, you should get him to do yours.”

The brushing stopped and Harry appeared in front of him, brushing his own hair.

“And end up with my hair looking like yours? No thanks,” Draco said, though he knew there was humour rather than spite in his voice.

“This isn’t Kreacher’s fault. My hair’s always looked like this.” Harry grinned, put the brush down and then ruffled a hand through his hair, making it look more like a bird’s nest than ever. Draco shook his head and declined to comment. The idea of Kreacher going anywhere near his hair with a pair of scissors was not something he wanted to contemplate right now.

“Do you want to come to the Quidditch match with me?”

“What?” Draco blinked. He was pretty sure he’d misheard that. Sure it was Saturday, but Harry usually disappeared off at the weekends to his friends, he certainly didn’t hang around with Draco, or invite him to Quidditch matches.

“I can’t go out in public like this Potter,” he said, when it seemed that Harry was serious.

“It’s not public, I’ve got a private box. We can apparate straight there and straight back if you like. No one would even need to see you.”

Draco looked at Harry askance. “Why are you inviting me to Quidditch?”

Harry shrugged as if this wasn’t particularly important. “I thought you might want to go. I usually take Teddy, or the Weasley’s, but they’re all busy this weekend. I’ve just realised you must be pretty bored stuck here all the time so I thought you might want to come.”

“I’ve been here nearly three months and you’ve only just realised I might be bored?” Draco rolled his eyes at the sheer stupidity of Potter.

“All right fine. I knew you were bored, but I didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me.”

Well that was interesting. “And you think I want to now because…?”

Another shrug. “Well, I figured you’re probably bored enough to accept by now.”

Draco laughed. It was pretty close to the truth if he thought about it. The idea of a Quidditch match with Harry would have been intolerable three months ago, now he was almost excited about the prospect.

“Fine,” he said, trying not to let that excitement show, “I guess I’ll come to the Quidditch match with you.”

It wasn’t half bad Draco realised sometime later when he was safely ensconced in Harry’s private box watching the Falcons playing the Magpies in what was actually a pretty exciting game. Harry wasn’t bad company either. Draco slid his eyes across to the other man for probably the hundredth time in the hour or so they’d been here and was surprised this time to see Harry looking at him.

“What?” he asked, embarrassed to have been caught looking.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged and turned away, leaving Draco to roll his eyes and decide that Harry was right in his earlier assessment of himself. He really was mental.

Whether it was because of the Quidditch match, or because he was actually enjoying being around Harry Draco didn’t know, but somehow Harry persuaded him that it was a good idea to have dinner in the dining room with him for once and an even better idea to let Harry actually feed him.

It was an odd experience, one that Draco wasn’t sure whether he was enjoying or just finding uncomfortable. It had taken some time for Harry to decide that the best thing to do was to transfigure a couple of chairs into a bench, very like the ones they’d sat on in Hogwarts for meals, and now he was sitting very close to Draco and holding a plate in his hand on which was a lot of cut up food, which they were actually sharing.

Harry would take a bite himself and then whilst he was chewing would spear another piece of food and feed it to Draco. Then whilst he was chewing the process would start over again. It was quite efficient Draco had to admit and the fact that Harry was doing it without any of the fuss that Kreacher usually made about the whole experience was quite refreshing.

They ate until Draco shook his head and refused anymore and Harry put the plate down. He stood up and Draco went to slide off the bench as well but Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and when Draco looked up at him Harry ducked his head and kissed him.

There was no chance for complaints. Harry’s lips glided smoothly over his and his hands ran smoothly over his shoulders and then Harry was lowering himself down onto the bench again, this time straddling Draco with one leg either side of his thighs.

He murmured something, but Draco didn’t hear it and didn’t really care what it had been. Harry’s hands slid into his hair, raking through the soft strands and then gripping and pulling lightly until Draco moaned into his mouth and Harry silenced him by slipping his tongue inside.

They sat like that just kissing, Harry caressing Draco softly, over his head and torso, eventually undoing his shirt buttons to get at the skin beneath until Draco couldn’t imagine doing anything else ever. Surely they could just sit here and kiss like this till the end of time?

There was a whimper from Harry as he pressed closer and Draco felt a familiar hardness bump against his own. That was when he realised that of course they couldn’t kiss forever because there was a much more urgent desire building inside him, one that made his blood fizz and his skin flush and he groaned into Harry’s mouth, wriggling his hips a little to try and show Harry what he needed.

The kiss stalled just for a second whilst Harry shifted and moved his hands down to grip Draco’s arse and then it resumed, just as gentle and measured as before as they both started rocking their his together in unison.

“Mmm so good,” Draco whispered into Harry’s mouth, earning him a growl of appreciation and a slight increase in the pressure. Not much though, it seemed neither of them were in too much of a hurry for this to be over. They were still kissing and still rocking and Draco was lost in an entirely different world of pleasure to usual.

“Draco.” Harry had pulled back slightly from the kiss, just enough to mutter Draco’s name. For a moment Draco thought he was going to say something else, but there was nothing and instead he captured the other man’s lips again, urging him back into the kiss.

It was apparently what Harry had been waiting for. He surged forwards, nearly knocking Draco off the bench, kissing him with more passion and desperation than before, one hand moving back up to tangle and tug at his hair, whilst the other forced their hips together with more urgency than before.

They rocked and kissed and plundered each other’s mouths with their tongues until Draco felt the surge of pleasure coiling in his belly and knew he couldn’t hold it any longer. He broke the kiss and completely on instinct dipped his head and sank his teeth hard into the side of Harry’s neck.

Harry cried out and Draco knew he was coming and that thought alone sent him over the edge, spurting wetness into his pants and almost collapsing in relief at the release.

He removed his teeth from Harry’s flesh and instead dropped his head onto the other man’s shoulder.

“What the hell was that about Harry?” he muttered, when he’d finally got his breath back. Apparently though whatever it had been about Harry wasn’t prepared to talk about it because he simply shrugged, spelled them both clean and then got up from the table, padding out the room and leaving Draco sitting there feeling very confused.

He didn’t see Harry again that evening, and if he had he would have pretended he wasn’t looking for him, even though he was. He padded from room to room downstairs and eventually decided Harry had gone to his bedroom, which despite everything was the one place Draco felt he really shouldn’t follow right now and gave up.

Later that night Harry got him ready for bed in silence. Then the next day he dressed him again and went out. He didn’t feed him, or try to force drinks down his throat, or do anything at all that wasn’t ‘normal’ for their strange situation.

Things weren’t normal though. Draco could sense it. He suspected Harry could sense it too. By the time the other man left for work on Monday Draco would happily have agreed with him on one point at least. He was going mental.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 11: Experience

2015-01-19T20:42:20Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Posting this now since the last chapter was so devoid of plot and this one is quite short. I'm not entirely sure about the scene in this one, but stick with me here, there's a nice ending!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 11: Experience

“Missing that, Potter?”

Draco hadn’t missed the look Potter had given his cock right before he’d pulled up his boxers. In fact the idea that Potter might find seeing him naked a form of torture was the only reason Draco was still letting the other man dress and undress him. He wasn’t actually speaking to him, in fact he realised, those three words were the first he’d spoken to him in four days, despite Potter’s lame attempts to lure him into conversation.

“Look, Draco, I’m sorry all right. It’s not my fault. I didn’t tell you earlier because I knew you’d act like it was.”

Draco stepped into the trousers Potter was holding out and looked down his nose at him.

“You aren’t sorry, you’re just sorry I stopped letting you fuck me.”

He enjoyed Potter’s flinch at that, even though unlike him Potter could actually wank. He on the other hand had started to resort to thoughts of Millicent again and it was only the fact that he was angry with Potter that was keeping his resolve not to ask him to render any assistance strong.

“I have other ways of getting sexual gratification, Draco. I don’t need you.” Harry had said that casually enough that it actually caught Draco’s interest. He quirked an eyebrow and considered asking him what other ways he had when he caught himself and instead bit his lip and looked towards the window, trying to appear uninterested.

“Good for you,” he muttered and spent the rest of the time Potter was in the room speculating internally on whether it was going to rain or not.

******************

It didn’t rain in the end and Draco went for his usual walk whilst Potter was at work. He spent quite a lot of it wondering exactly what Potter had meant by getting sexual gratification elsewhere. He had very much got the impression the man wasn’t talking about wanking and he was certainly spending every evening at home with only Draco in the house so there wasn’t another bloke involved. Not unless Potter was getting it on at the office.

Draco dismissed that idea pretty quickly, Potter was definitely not the sort of person who would be doing something like that, even if he had confessed to wanking in the staff toilets a couple of weeks ago.

The question intrigued Draco to the point where he actually got out of bed five minutes after he heard the door to Harry’s room close and made his way down the landing so he could press an ear to the wood. There were no silencing charms, their rooms were too far apart to really need one, and besides through the thick wood Draco could only just make out the quiet pants and grunts that suggested to him Potter was wanking. Well either that or doing whatever else it was that he’d been referring to.

Draco hesitated briefly. He could just walk away, but then he’d never know and the pants were getting just a little bit louder now and they’d been accompanied by a whimper and Draco’s cock was definitely interested in that.

Actually that was a problem. He wasn’t here to get turned on by Potter, he was here to solve a mystery. That decided him. He pressed the thing he used to open the door and stepped inside.

“What the fuck?”

Potter was kneeling in the middle of the bed, one hand on his cock, working his hips up and down on… well on something that was cock shaped and very definitely sticking into his arse. He’s opened his eyes briefly at Draco’s muttered exclamation but then had apparently decided he wasn’t worth bothering about because he resumed his movements and let his eyes drop closed.

“What the fuck is that, Potter?” He’d come too far to back away without answers now.

“It’s a sex toy, Draco, what does it look like?” Potter’s voice sounded hoarse and unfortunately Draco noticed he was delightfully flushed, which did nothing for his cock, which was twitching more interestedly than ever.

As if pulled by invisible strings he found his legs propelling him forwards across the room to the bed where he bent down to look between Potter’s legs.

“Bloody hell, Potter.” The thing looked huge and Potter was riding it like an expert, up and down, groaning every time it went in and pumping his cock with his other hand in time with the rhythm. It was a few moments before Draco realised that the persistent mechanical noise was coming from the thing and was not inside his head at all. He looked closer and realised it was pulsating and moving as it went in and out of Potter’s arse.

“Enjoying the view, Draco?” Potter didn’t sound annoyed, he might as well have been asking about the view from the window.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Draco shot back dryly, wondering why Potter wasn’t more annoyed at the interruption and why he hadn’t bothered to stop. Actually Draco really wished he would stop. His cock was straining against his trousers and the sight of that thing going in and out only served to remind him exactly how good it felt to have his cock in there.

“I’ve had my cock in your arse, Draco, I’m hardly going to be embarrassed about you seeing this am I? If you want to watch, feel free.”

“Is it better than my cock?” He didn’t know where the question had come from, but he really had to know and he tried to suppress the little flutter of anxiety that started in his stomach. If Potter said yes he’d never live it down.

To his surprise Potter actually stopped moving and turned to him with a gleam in his eyes. “No actually, your cock is a lot better.”

“Fuck.” Draco wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t the worse of the two answers because his cock was leaking now and he scrabbled desperately at his pants, using his feet and the edge of the bed to force his pyjamas down to his ankles where he could kick them off. Potter had resumed moving by the time he scrambled onto the bed, fighting to stay upright against the uselessness of his arms.

“Clever,” Potter muttered, when he cracked one eye open and realised what Draco had managed to do. He was moving faster now Draco noticed, his breath coming in little gasps and Draco realised he was matching them with some of his own.

“If my cock’s better why don’t you take that thing out?” he gasped, trying to wriggle forwards to get nearer. He nearly overbalanced, but Potter’s spare hand shot out and caught him as he shook his head.

“Too far gone, Draco. Fuck, come here.” He’d removed his hand from his cock now, using both arms to pull Draco closer so their bodies were touching and their cocks rubbed together as Harry continued to fuck himself on the sex toy. “Oh Merlin, Draco, I need… Fuck.”

Their bodies parted again because Harry had buried the toy as far as it would go into his arse and the look of complete ecstasy on his face as the thing pulsed inside him nearly had Draco coming right then and there.

“Fuck, Draco, that feels good. Fuck, where’s your hand? I need it. Fuck!”

Maybe Draco really should have objected to the fact that Harry had grabbed his hand and wrapped the fingers of it around his cock, but he found he really couldn’t because very suddenly the nerves in his hand had come back to life. He couldn’t feel everything, but there was heat and pressure and the fact that he knew it was Harry’s cock he was holding – feeling, for the first time made him cry out and tip forwards so that his face was buried in Harry’s shoulder and if Harry wondered what the hell was going on he didn’t say anything because he was pumping his cock with his hand over Draco’s so hard Draco was sure it must actually be painful and then he was coming with a yell that definitely hurt Draco’s ear.

He waited until Harry released his hand and dropped his head onto Draco’s before he spoke.

“I could feel that.” He wondered whether Harry could hear him because his face was mostly buried in Harry’s neck, but he had apparently heard something because he pushed them both upright and said,

“What?”

“I could feel it, Harry. In my hand. I could feel your cock in my hand.”

A look of wonder suffused Harry’s features, one so bright and full of hope that Draco had an almost irresistible urge to kiss him. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, feeling his own face breaking into a grin, “I can’t move it yet and I couldn’t feel it properly but there was definitely something. I could definitely feel it.”

“Can you feel this then?” Harry grabbed his hand and rubbed it in his hair, which Draco supposed was because it the only texture that was to hand right now that was vaguely interesting. He could feel it, soft and silkier than he’d been expecting given how much of a mess it always looked, and he grinned in approval.

Harry grinned back still with that same astonishing look of wonder and Draco really did kiss him then. He surged forward and slammed his lips into Harry’s, groaning into his mouth and then whimpering in delight as Harry kissed back and he realised that even though they’d done this before it had just been once and Harry’s taste was still new enough to be thrilling. Harry released his hand, grabbed him and tumbled them back onto the bed, twisting so Draco was pinned beneath him and kissing him as if he could never get enough.

Draco knew how he felt. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of this. Harry’s lips were warm and soft and his tongue was doing wicked things inside his mouth and Draco’s cock throbbed against his stomach.

“Harry,” he managed to gasp eventually when that ache in his cock became too much to bear and he needed something more. Harry pulled away and then let out a sharp gasp of surprise and arousal that had Draco frowning in puzzlement, until he realised he could still hear that noise from before.

“You’ve still got that damn toy in your arse haven’t you, Potter?” he drawled, rolling his eyes upwards as Harry squirmed on top of him, “Don’t tell me you’re getting hard again already. Would it really work more than once?”

“If I turned it up,” Harry muttered, squirming again and causing Draco to groan as his erection rubbed against Harry’s semi-hard cock.

“It turns up?”

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“High enough to get me off again.”

“Bloody hell, Potter.” He couldn’t help laughing, even though his cock was throbbing even more in response to just the idea of Harry coming again. “Who would have guessed that the boy-who-lived was so insatiable in bed?”

“I’m not insatiable, Draco.” He frowned and somewhat undid his statement by wriggling again. Draco groaned at the friction.

“Want to replace that thing with my cock?”

There was a pause and then Harry muttered, “Fuck yes,” so quietly Draco almost missed it. He grinned.

“See. Insatiable,” he drawled, “Fine, you can if you do me one favour first.”

“What’s that?”

“Turn that thing up. I want to see how high it goes.”

“Fucking hell, Draco.” He had actually expected Potter to refuse, but to his surprise he knelt up so he was straddling Draco’s thighs and reached around. A moment later the noise increased and Harry dropped his head forwards with a quiet groan.

“Does it go higher?” Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow when Harry looked up at him, his eyes bright with lust.

“Yes.” The noise increased again. “Fuck.”

Draco let out his own quiet gasp as Harry started to roll his hips in response to the increased stimulation. He could see the other man’s cock coming back to life before his eyes and the sight was so erotic he knew the only thing holding him back was the fact that he couldn’t physically move his arms.

“More,” he gasped quietly.

Harry reached around, turned the thing up and managed to choke out, “That’s it,” before he fell forwards onto one hand and started panting hard. Draco could see the other hand was still behind him working the thing in and out as it pulsed.

“Fuck, Harry,” he groaned, his own cock aching, “If you want my cock in your arse you’d better put it in now before I explode just from watching you do that.”

He wasn’t actually sure if Harry had heard him since he looked so lost in his own pleasure, but a moment later he gave a groan of frustration and the noise ceased before Harry tossed the toy aside and positioned himself over Draco’s cock.

The toy had stretched him already and it was all Draco could do not to scream when Harry pushed down and then kept on pushing, not stopping until Draco was completely buried inside him.

“Bloody hell,” he swore again, bucking his hips up as Harry settled down. Harry gave him a single, long look, all gleaming eyes and mischievous grins and then he started moving lacing one hand into Draco’s as he fucked himself on his cock.

“Merlin, Potter, you should see yourself right now,” he mumbled, turning his head just to try and drag his eyes away from the sight of Harry bouncing wantonly on his hips, obviously enjoying him just as much as he’d enjoyed his toy judging by the way he groaned and gasped and grabbed his own cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts.

“You should see your face,” he whispered in response, leaning down and changing the angle of his thrusts to something that made him whimper in pleasure. Draco didn’t feel particularly inclined to worry about what his face looked like right now, he could feel his own orgasm building between his hips and his only concern was whether he was going to last long enough for Harry to come again.

“Fuck, Draco, you feel so good.” One hand was on Draco’s shoulder, practically pinning him to the mattress as Harry used his body as leverage for his thrusts. It meant that Draco was held still enough that he could thrust back, bucking his hips, thrusting and lifting, and pushing so hard Harry was nearly lifted off the bed as he slammed their hips together over and over. “Fuck, Draco, I’m going to come,” he gasped.

Already? Was what Draco really wanted to say, but all that came out was an incoherent noise and he felt his muscles contract and his cock start to pulse as he fell over the edge and came so hard that his vision went white.

“Fuck, Draco!”

Harry’s muscles clenched around his cock, increasing the pleasure and making Draco cry out desperately as he frantically fucked Harry’s arse again and again, shoving into the mess of lube and come and feeling like he never wanted this to end.

It did of course. Eventually Draco stopped and Harry collapsed on his chest, completely spent, breathing hard.

“Wow,” he mumbled after a while, rolling off Draco, who took the opportunity to inhale deeply with the weight removed from his chest. He heard Harry chuckle next to him and then felt the tingle of a cleaning charm passing over his skin.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, when Harry started to draw the covers around them both.

“You can go back to your room if you want, but I’m not coming to help you with the covers,” was the muttered reply. Draco sighed. He could summon Kreacher to help, but he was naked again and he hated it when the house-elf had to look at him naked.

“Is this going to happen every time I fuck your ass, Potter?” he asked, though there was no malice behind his words this time.

“Does that mean you’re going to let me do it again?” Harry sounded too hopeful for his liking.

“Maybe.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Draco sighed heavily. “Maybe,” he repeated, “I will at least concede that it isn’t your fault, but you should have told me sooner.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Fine.” He shrugged, though Harry had already put the lamps out and probably couldn’t see it. “At least move over and give me some room.”

There was another chuckle and he felt the mattress shift as Harry moved away.

“Night, Draco.” Another movement and then a hand squeezing his.

“I felt that, Potter,” he drawled sleepily, “Keep your hands to yourself.”

It earned him another chuckle, but Draco had already fallen asleep.

*********************

Draco woke up in the middle of the night with something tickling his nose and a heavy weight resting on his arm, which he was rather delighted to realise he could feel, right down to the tips of his fingers. Unfortunately the heavy weight was Harry’s body and Draco didn’t have enough movement in his arm to push him off.

“Bloody hell, Potter, what are you doing?” he muttered, trying to roll out from under the other man who from his deep, even breathing was quite obviously asleep. “Potter? Harry? Great.” There was no response. Why did Harry choose now to suddenly become the world’s deepest sleeper when he’d woken up so easily every time Draco had an erotic dream?

Whatever the reason Draco resigned himself to wriggling his shoulders and his hips until he’d finally managed to free himself from underneath Harry. He rolled so his back was to Harry, unable to go any further because of the edge of the bed.

“Great,” he muttered again, to no one in particular. Behind him Harry mumbled in his sleep and moved, throwing an arm around Draco’s waist and pulling him securely against Harry’s chest.

Oh Merlin, what the hell was Potter playing at now? It really wasn’t helping that it was warm and comfortable and that Harry’s firm chest was comforting against his back. It also didn’t help that Draco had nowhere to go, short of climbing out of the bed altogether, and if he did that he wouldn’t actually be able to get back under the covers without help.

Merlin, Potter was going to be the death of him. Draco didn’t sleep with people. He never shared his bed, let alone actually snuggled into someone’s arms whilst he slept, it just wasn’t a very Draco thing to do. It was unfortunate that it turned out to be something Draco couldn’t help liking very much.

He gave up. He could wake Harry up, but then he probably wouldn’t be so warm or comfortable and he really wanted to be warm and comfortable right now. He let his eyes fall closed and dropped back off to sleep.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 10: Switching

2015-01-19T20:34:47Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: So this chapter is basically just filthy smut (hence the title), I can't believe I wrote it, but it's here so it's staying! I think this was the part I was writing when I originally started posting this fic (probably why I called it PWP, this bit actually is!)
There's plenty of other interaction coming up though. They just need to realise it's about more than sex ;) (Either that or I just really needed to get my mind out of the gutter!)

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 10: Switching

“It’s becoming a bad habit of yours to pass out after sex.” There was teasing voice on the edge of his consciousness. Draco cracked an eye open and saw that Harry was grinning down at him from the edge of the bed.

He tried to say something coherent, but it got lost on the way to his mouth and came out as a stupid mumble. For some reason Harry moaned in the same way he had done when Draco had licked his cock and Draco found his eyes flicking down to the man’s crotch, wondering vaguely if he was wanking.

Of course he wasn’t. Draco flicked his eyes back up to Harry’s face again and frowned in puzzlement.

“Does that mean I can do it again sometime?” Harry asked, not looking in the slightest bit like he’d just let out a moan of arousal at nothing. Draco wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Fuck yes,” he mumbled, still slightly confused and trying to put his thoughts back in order. Harry had had his cock up his arse and it had been so good he’d actually passed out? Well fuck, Draco thought, he’d have laughed at anyone who’d suggested that would ever happen a few months ago. Now it most definitely had.

“Merlin, if it’s that good with you imagine how good it’ll be with someone I actually want to sleep with,” he muttered, fixing his eyes on the ceiling and trying not to see Harry’s vaguely disappointed look. He wondered why Harry would be disappointed, and then decided that his arse was probably the best Harry had ever had. Of course he’d be disappointed that it was going to go away soon.

“Well, you’ve got to put up with me for a while yet.” Harry had rallied quite well, Draco could give him that. “Think you can cope?”

He could be generous as well. After all, the man had introduced him to the joys of a whole new type of sex. “I think I can cope, so long as you do that again sometime soon.”

There was a chuckle and Draco risked a look this time. Harry’s eyes were sparkling in a way that was actually quite attractive. “You might not be saying that when you wake up sore tomorrow,” he said lightly, “See you in the morning.”

He was gone before Draco had time to ask exactly how sore he was going to be, and Draco decided that it was a problem that could wait until tomorrow. Sleep came easily and he didn’t wake up till morning.

*******************

He was sore the next day, Harry was right, but Harry also had some salve that Draco eventually consented to let him apply which as Harry had said immediately soothed away most of the soreness. With that gone Draco decided that there was a lot to be said for being the bottom in a relationship. Not that he ever would be. His arse was definitely not for just anyone to play with, he was still going to be picky about who he let in there.

The fact that he’d almost certainly let Harry have another go was an ok thought he decided because Harry was the only option right now. Once there were other options he wouldn’t be letting the Chosen One anywhere near his arse ever again.

That was to worry about later though. What he needed to worry about right now was the fact that he was naked in the shower and Harry was standing behind him washing his back, wearing only his boxers and trying not to actually step too far under the water. Draco supposed this was to try and make it seem less like they were in the shower together, but frankly Draco was past caring about that if it meant he got to stand under the water and feel properly clean again.

What he hadn’t counted on though was Harry working his way slowly and methodically around his body until he was kneeling in front of him, rinsing the soap from his legs. At least he had been doing, now he was instead looking with interest at Draco’s cock, which unfortunately was already hard.

“Look, Potter, before you say anything we’ve been through this before. I’m gay, you’ve got your hands all over me, of course I’m going to react like this.”

There was a chuckle. “Actually, Draco, I was just going to say that you really do have a magnificent cock.”

It was an odd compliment, but Draco was only too pleased to accept it. Of course it was magnificent; everything about him was magnificent. He tossed his head back haughtily and closed his eyes, which unfortunately meant he yelped in surprise when a moment later he felt Harry’s tongue lick quickly up the length of his cock.

“What the fuck, Potter?” he spluttered, jumping back in alarm and then looking rather foolish when he almost slipped on the wet tiles. Harry was on his feet and had caught him before he could hit the shower wall and very probably slide down it to an ungainly sprawl on the floor, but unfortunately that meant that Harry now had his arms around him and was pulling him flush against his body.

“I want that cock up my arse, Draco,” he hissed into his ear, and Draco wondered vaguely how he’d failed to notice the huge bulge in Harry’s boxers until it was pressed against him. Harry ground against him, forcing his back into the cold tiles of the wall which made him growl in annoyance.

“That’s cold, Potter!” he hissed, trying to shove back, but actually only succeeding in thrusting their crotches together again. Luckily Harry wasn’t the all-sacrificing Chosen One for nothing. He flipped them around, putting his own back against the wall and gripped Draco’s arse tightly as he ground their crotches together, working his own hips hard against Draco’s. He couldn’t help but groan then, the perfect friction created by the wet material of Harry’s boxers was sending shudders of pleasure through his body.

“You’re so hard, Draco.” Harry’s voice was hissing in his ear again, his hot breath contrasting with the cooling water on his skin. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Fucking hell. All Draco could do was groan stupidly into Harry’s hair and hope that the other man was willing to follow through on his words.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Merlin, he wasn’t supposed to be reacting to Harry this way, but the way Harry looked at him, when he pulled back, those liquid green eyes burning with intensity and desire, Draco decided that no one could help reacting the way he was. He allowed himself to be pulled from the shower, spelled dry and dragged to the bed without too much in the way of complaining. There was no point complaining anyway, because when he did Harry just looked at him with an indulgent gaze that made Draco feel as if he was Harry’s favourite pet, and that was a feeling he didn’t like at all.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Harry hissed, when Draco found that he was flat on his back on the bed with Harry straddling his legs and leaning down so far Draco was surprised he hadn’t snapped in two. There was a moment of hot breath on his skin and then Harry sucked the head of his cock into his mouth and Draco bucked his hips and whimpered before he managed to get his reactions under control.

Oh Merlin he was good at this. Too good. Draco wondered exactly how many people the Chosen One must have sucked off to get this good at it and then decided that he really didn’t want to think about that whilst Harry had his mouth on his cock. His tongue swirled around the tip and then his head dipped and the tongue was gliding down the shaft, eliciting a moan of appreciation from Draco.

He licked the whole thing thoroughly as if it was some sort of fucking lollipop and then when Draco thought he probably couldn’t take any more of this teasing wrapped his lips around the end and swallowed most of his length in one, smooth motion.

“Fuck, Potter!” Draco hadn’t been able to help the jerk of his hips and though Harry had gagged, sending stars dancing in front of Draco’s eyes, he hadn’t let go and now he was sucking so hard Draco knew he wasn’t going to last. “Fuck, Potter. Stop. Harry, stop! Fuck!” Harry finally pulled away and gave Draco a look which suggested he knew exactly what he’d been doing. “I thought you wanted my cock in your arse, Potter,” he managed to say eventually, when he thought he’d calmed down enough to actually speak.

“Oh, I do,” Harry replied, reaching for his wand and casting a lubrication spell both on Draco’s cock and on his own fingers. A moment later Draco found himself licking his suddenly dry lips as he watched Harry push two fingers into his own arsehole, not even bothering to mess about with one.

He watched and watched, unable to tear his eyes away, completely transfixed by the sight of Harry, eyes closed, pushing his fingers into his arse with one hand and slowly stroking his cock with the other. Only when it became too much and he groaned, shifting impatiently, did Harry open his eyes and look at him.

“Feels good, Draco,” he groaned, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself over Draco’s painful, leaking erection. “This is gonna feel better.”

“Fuck! Fuck!” It seemed to be all Draco was capable of saying as Harry lowered himself down, wriggling slightly to help his muscles relax as he swallowed Draco’s cock with his arse. “FUCK!”

It had been too long since he’d had his cock in someone’s arse for Draco to react any other way. There was heat and tightness – Harry’s arse was gripping him so hard he half wondered how he was going to fit all the way in and for a moment when Harry stopped he feared he wouldn’t, but then Harry grunted, shifted and suddenly Draco was completely buried inside him, wishing he could twist his hands in the sheets and instead settling for turning his head to the side and arching his neck, letting his mouth fall open in a soundless groan.

“Merlin Draco, you’re so big.”

The sheer surprise in Harry’s voice made Draco snap his mouth shut and turn to look at him in wonder, just in time to see Harry close his eyes and start to ride him, working his hips slowly up and down, easing Draco’s cock in and out of his hole in a steady rhythm.

“Wow, Draco.”

Draco wished he could respond with some witty comment about how he was probably the best Harry had ever had, but quite frankly he was putting all his effort into not exploding. He was not going to embarrass himself by coming the second his cock was in Harry’s arse.

Harry shifted position and pushed down again a little harder, this time letting out a quiet yelp of satisfaction. “Yes, right there,” he hissed, almost as if it was Draco who had initiated the change, rather than it being self-induced. “Fuck, Draco.”

He was moving faster and harder now, at least as fast and hard as he could when he was balanced so precariously, and Draco really thought he was going to embarrass himself in a minute if Harry didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck!” This was really not good. “Fuck, Harry!”

And Harry stopped, leaving Draco to thrash his legs and twist his head and curse under his breath because he had been so close and mostly he had just wanted Harry to carry on. When he finally opened his eyes Harry’s grin was far too knowing for his liking and a second later Harry twisted a little and then there was a pressure on the base of his cock and another hand tugging lightly at his balls, easing him just a little further away from the edge.

“I’m not done with you yet, Draco.”

Fucking hell, why was he always letting Potter take control like this? The whole curse thing was obviously affecting him more than he realised.

“Move, Potter, come on. Ride me.” Yep, it was definitely the curse making him act this way. He’d never begged anyone for anything during sex before. Draco did not beg.

Harry grinned, and reached for his wand. He muttered something Draco couldn’t hear and then bizarrely a bar appeared above his head, firmly attached to the wooden canopy of the bed above. Harry tossed his wand aside then reached up to grab at the bar and Draco understood. Without Draco’s hands to steady his hips and help his rhythm he needed something else and this was the solution he’d gone for.

A fucking good solution Draco thought as Harry raised himself up using the bar and then slammed his arse back down onto Draco’s hips.

“Shit!” Draco bucked his hips up to meet the thrust and for a split second thought he was going to pass out with sheer pleasure even before he’d climaxed. This was too fucking good to be real.

“Oh yes, Draco,” Harry hissed, repeating the action and causing Draco to see stars. “Fucking, yes.”

He was off then, riding Draco’s cock like he’d been doing it all his life and Draco found that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of Harry’s muscles rippling under his pale skin as he lifted and pushed and bounced and shoved, writhing and moaning as he fucked himself wantonly on Draco’s cock.

“Harder. Harder!” Draco needed more of this. He was so close again already, but he didn’t care right now. Harry felt amazing. Harry was amazing. The heat in his groin was very nearly pain and if he didn’t come soon he thought he might actually lose his mind. “Harry, fuck, Harry. I need more… More. Fuck!”

Harry’s movement became more erratic as he grabbed his own cock and started pumping his hand in time with his thrusts, a sheen of sweat covering his skin as he grunted from effort and pleasure and the finally let out a roar of pleasure as he came.

“Fuck, yes. Fuck, yes. Oh fuck, YES!” Draco came and kept on coming, his cock pulsing out so much come he thought vaguely that there couldn’t possibly be room in Harry’s arse to take it all. His hips were snapping up, fucking himself in Harry’s tight hole until he realised that he was chanting Harry’s name and arching his neck so far it hurt and he subsided back onto the bed, knowing that there was a flush creeping up his neck to his face.

Harry was looking at him, wordless and astonished as if he had been completely robbed of all reaction. Then his hand slipped from the bar and he collapsed boneless on top of Draco as if he were the one who had lost the use of his arms.

“Do you have any idea how hot you looked right then, Draco?”

“Fuck off, Potter.” His voice was weak, too weak for Harry to take him seriously. Not that he particularly wanted him to right now. Harry’s weight was heavy on top of him, but somehow very real and Draco relished it, in spite of the layer of come sandwiched between their chests that definitely didn’t belong to Draco. It seemed Harry was inclined to move either so they stay there like that for a long minute, the room filled with their pants and gasps as they both tried to remover.

Only when Draco’s cock softened and slipped out naturally did Harry move and reach for his wand to cast the cleaning spell. Draco felt the tingle of magic over his skin and then Harry rolled over and began to pull up the covers over both of them.

“What are you doing, Potter?”

“Going to sleep,” came the mumbled reply as Harry buried his face in a pillow, “Can’t walk right now.”

“You’re sleeping here? In my bed?”

“Technically it’s my bed, Draco, remember?” Harry had freed his face a bit now and was looking over at Draco with a smile Draco didn’t altogether like. “By the way that was pretty amazing, we should definitely do it again sometime before you leave,” he added casually as he fussed about with the cover again. There was something about that sentence that Draco didn’t really like so he simply grunted in response and rolled over away from Harry, drifting off to sleep before he’d managed to work out which part he hadn’t really liked.

*****************

“Stop messing about, Harry!”

He was lying on the bed with Harry above him, lube dripping from his fingers and his cock, looking too damn hot for words, and yet hesitating.

“Aren’t you sore? You’ll regret this in the morning.”

“Shut up, Harry, just do it!” It was true that when Harry finally got on with it would be the fifth time they’d done this in six days, but Harry’s magical salve soothed away any pain so well that Draco had decided the pleasure more than made up for it. “Come on, Harry!” He bucked his hips and arched his neck in the way he knew Harry found difficult to resist. Sure enough just as happened every time Harry caved in and a moment later he felt him grab his hips and force his way past that tight ring of muscle into his arse.

“Move, Harry,” he demanded, long past caring whether he sounded demanding or whiny or both. The way he was going to feel in a minute was too damn good to worry about that.

“Give me a minute, Draco, you’re too damn tight you know.” Harry had his eyes squeezed shut, the way he always did

“Fuck.” He knew Harry would make him wait and he made sure he whined about it every time.

“Impatient little brat aren’t you, Draco?” This was new; Harry was bending down, his lips very near Draco’s ear, before he shoved. Somehow, even on this angle, he was still rubbing against that spot, just in an entirely different way. One that made Draco’s muscles clench and his toes curl.

“Fuck, Harry.” He sounded rather choked and he heard Harry hum in satisfaction and thrust again.

“Does that feel good, Draco?”

“Fuck yes.” He still sounded choked. He tried to swallow and decided it hadn’t really worked. A moment later he yelped as Harry sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh on his neck.

He hissed as Harry pulled back a little and arched his neck, silently asking for more. Harry grinned, licked his lips and then thrust and bit at the same time making Draco’s whole body jerk in pleasure.

“More. Again,” he panted, turning his head so that Harry could run his tongue up the curve of his neck and settle on his pulse point. He started to suck, Draco writhed again and Harry thrust in response, somehow managing to do both things at once as Draco convulsed and jerked and generally turned into a complete mess underneath him.

“You’re so tight, Draco,” Harry muttered against his neck in between teasing darts with his tongue and sharp nips with his teeth, “Have you any idea how good it feels to have my cock inside you like this? Have you any idea what you look like lying underneath me begging me to make you come? Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

Oh fuck. Draco thought he really should worry about those words, but right now all they were doing was making his cock twitch and amplifying the pleasure from every thrust of Harry’s hips until Draco could hardly stand it.

“Fuck, Harry,” he gasped, “More.” Harry’s idea of more was apparently to sit up and tweak on his nipple hard enough that it almost hurt. Draco arched off the bed, which earned him a moan of desire and another tweak. “Yes fuck, Harry. More. Come on. I need to come.”

He was doing his best to buck his hips upwards and he decided Harry wasn’t quite desperate enough just yet. He clenched the muscles of his arse and felt a smug satisfaction as Harry groaned and increased the pace of his thrusts, hitting Draco’s prostate even harder.

“Fuck so good. Fuck. Harder Harry. Fuck!” Harry leaned forwards again, tugging harder on Draco’s nipple, thrusting his hips in an erratic rhythm which Draco could do nothing to correct. Not that he cared. There was pleasure deep inside his arse and Harry’s fingers were working magic on his nipples and his cock was caught between their stomachs causing pleasurable friction there too and it was all too fucking good. When Harry sank his teeth hard into the side of his neck he gave a strangled cry and came, spiralling off into white hot oblivion that engulfed his every sense.

Above him Harry pushed and thrust and panted and only when Draco was completely spent did he let his own release overtake him, coming hard into Draco’s arse so that when he finally softened and slipped out there was a mess of lube and come trickling from Draco’s hole that he vaguely thought he should be embarrassed about, but which he actually thought was quite satisfying.

“Fuck, Harry, that was…” he muttered as Harry collapsed on his chest and Draco let some vague thoughts about how disappointing it was that he couldn’t stroke his hair form in his mind and then slip away unhindered.

“Incredible?” Harry mumbled into his neck. Draco gave a grunt of agreement and tried to recapture the thought he’d just have so he could examine it in more detail.

Before he managed it Harry sat up and grabbed his wand to clean them.

“You know we really should stop doing this.” He didn’t particularly look like he meant it, but the way he’d run his hand through his hair, just how he did when something was really bothering him made Draco look at him in concern.

“Why?”

“Because, Draco,” he said it like it was an explanation. Draco raised an eyebrow and he plunged on. “You’re Draco Malfoy. You hate me. We have to work together when this is all over. Things have to go back to normal. This isn’t normal.”

Draco examined that sentence and then went with. “I don’t hate you, Harry. I mean, look, I even managed to start calling you Harry.” He gave him an encouraging smile, though what he was trying to encourage he really couldn’t say.

Harry looked at him for a moment and then started climbing off him and pulling his boxers back on. “All right fine. You don’t hate me anymore. I don’t hate you either if it comes to it, but we’re not even friends, Draco, and we keep fucking each other. It’s not right.”

“Actually you mostly fuck me,” Draco pointed out for the sake of accuracy, and because he could think of nothing better.

Harry laughed at that at least, though he quickly stopped and looked more serious, casting his eyes towards the ceiling. “Fucking hell, I’m fucking Draco Malfoy,” he muttered, as if there was someone up there he needed to tell.

“Potter, there’s at least three weeks until there’s any chance of this curse wearing off. Are you telling me we’re just going to stop this and you’re going to leave me hanging for three weeks?”

“Well…”

“Merlin, I hate not being able to wank!” If he was honest there were other things that annoyed him more, like not being able to use the toilet on his own, but right now this seemed more important. “The second I get the use of my muscles back I’m going home and I’m going to wank until I pass out.”

“Actually…” Harry’s slightly pensive tone got his attention and he looked over at him to find him chewing his lip and looking at the ceiling again.

“What is it, Potter?” He didn’t like that look at all, nor did he much like the sigh Harry gave afterwards.

“The thing is, Draco, even when the curse wears off you aren’t going to be able to wank or do anything much at all really.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Potter?” Merlin, he sounded so serious. Was there something he hadn’t told him about the curse? Was there going to be damage no one had told him about? What was he hiding?

“I mean you will eventually,“ Potter said quickly, as if he’d suddenly realised how it sounded, “But not straight away. You won’t have used your muscles for three months. They’re going to be weak. You’ll probably have to do exercises to get them back to full strength. I don’t know how long it’ll take, probably not too long, maybe a month or so, and I mean… you can stay here as long as you need, but I just thought you should know. It’s not going to be easy.”

“Right.” Draco let out a breath and looked at the ceiling. He hadn’t thought of that. Damn this stupid curse. He’d thought there were only a few more weeks of torture to go. Now he found out it might be another month after that before he was fully functioning again. Maybe even longer. The thought made him very nearly want to cry.

“When did the Healers tell you this, Potter?” he spat bitterly, wondering how long Potter had been sitting on this little piece of news.

“They didn’t tell me, I just worked it out.”

“Oh.” Fuck, now even Potter was more intelligent than him. “When did you work it out then?”

“Um.” He heard Potter shift uncomfortably, but he didn’t bother to look round. “That night I examined your arms.”

“When you were drunk?” Fuck this was getting worse.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Right well, thanks for telling me I guess, Potter.” He rolled over so Potter couldn’t see his face and didn’t react when Potter sighed and pulled the covers up over him.

“I am sorry, Draco,” he said softly and Draco waited until he heard the door shut behind him before he let himself collapse into sobs.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 9: Experiment

2015-01-17T17:50:40Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: I imagine Draco's feeling quite vulnerable and not at all himself at the moment (since he's so reliant on everyone else to do things for him) but he'll bounce back eventually don't worry! :)
Also I've just divided up the next part of the story, which is already written, into chapters and there's some fluff coming up very soon. Who doesn't love fluff right?

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 9: Experiment

“Fuck, Draco. I can’t do this.”

Draco frowned in puzzlement as Potter sat down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. He’d been dressing Draco as usual and had been about to put on Draco’s shirt when he’d cast it aside and made that puzzling exclamation. Draco stared at the shirt for a moment as if it might be the reason for his mysterious behaviour and then decided that no, it was just a normal shirt. Same as all the others he so often wore. It couldn’t possibly be the explanation for Potter’s bizarre behaviour.

“Do what, Potter?”

“Dress you.” Draco jerked in surprise. What the hell was Potter’s problem now? They’d been doing this for weeks without it being too much of an issue. Why had he suddenly decided to make it one now?

“Why not?” It didn’t bear thinking about really. If Potter wouldn’t dress him then Kreacher would have to do it again and Draco thought that might drive him insane. He still hadn’t really got used to Kreacher’s attitude towards the things he still had to do for him.

“Because, Draco. Seeing you naked. I can’t bloody stand it.”

Draco stiffened. “I didn’t realise you found me that repulsive, Potter,” he spat, drawing himself up to his full height and trying to look as haughty as possible.

“Repulsive? Repulsive?” Potter sounded angry. Draco sagged and looked at him in confusion. He was pretty sure he was missing something here. Potter’s hands scrabbled at the fastenings on his own pants and a second later his trousers were round his ankles and Draco found himself looking at the man’s swollen cock.

“I’ve had my damn fingers up your arse, Draco. I don’t find you repulsive, in fact I find you the opposite. I can’t stop wanking over you.”

“Oh.” Draco gave Potter’s cock another glance. It looked red and angry, leaking pre-come already and above all it looked so hard Draco thought it must surely be painful. “How many times have you wanked exactly?”

“I don’t know.” Merlin, apparently he was going to do it again because his eyes were closed and his hand was on his cock already, rubbing slowly up and down in a way that made Draco wet his lips without meaning to.

“Come on, Potter, three times four times?”

“A day.”

“What? Fuck, Potter! You wanked four times in one day?”

There was a groan and Potter’s hand squeezed his cock more firmly. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe not, but I even wanked in the toilets at work yesterday.”

“Fuck, Potter, you need to stop doing that.” It was actually making him cringe watching Potter wank right now, when his cock looked so swollen and far too dry. It was also indescribably hot watching Potter lose control like this and Draco’s own cock was already straining painfully at his trousers.

He glanced down at it and when he looked up Potter had opened his eyes and was staring at it as well. “Do you want me to...?” he said, and he was already reaching for Draco’s trousers, his eyes flashing greedily in a way that just made Draco’s cock twitch even more. His eyes were fixed on Harry’s cock as he felt him work the fastenings on his trousers open with one hand and pull his cock out through the split in his boxers.

“You have an amazing cock, Draco.” Harry had let his eyes drift shut again and his hand was already running gently up and down Draco’s hardened length and Draco was pretty sure that he was out of his mind if he was saying things like that to his face, never mind admitting that he’d wanked over him.

Shit. He licked his lips again and then wondered why he’d done it.

He stepped forwards so he was between Potter’s legs and Harry purred in delight as he gripped his cock tighter.

“Let go.” Potter’s eyes popped open in surprise at the instruction, but he did it immediately, apparently not so far gone that he’d try to touch Draco completely against his will. Before he could change his own mind about this Draco dropped to his knees, wincing painfully when they hit the floor hard because he couldn’t catch himself on his hands. Potter was still wanking, looking at him as if he didn’t know what the hell Draco was doing kneeling on the floor in front of him, but apparently not letting that put him off.

“You’re so damn sexy, Draco,” he moaned, which was what finally sent Draco over the edge.

He dipped his head and waited until Potter got to the top of his stroke then ran his tongue up the length of Potter’s penis. The moan it earned him made it more than worth it. So did the fact that Potter finally left his cock alone, dropping his hand somewhere off to the side so that Draco had better access.

“What the hell has got into you, Draco?” Potter muttered as Draco took the head of his cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the end, coating it in what he hoped was a soothing layer of saliva. He tried to say, “Your cock,” because it was too good a joke to pass up, but it came out as a sort of mumble and the vibration was probably what made Potter buck his hips and force a lot more of his cock down Draco’s throat.

He nearly overbalanced then, because he didn’t have his hands to steady himself, but Potter was at least aware enough to grab his shoulders and hold him firmly in place so that Draco could concentrate on pulling back and then having another go at swallowing as much as he could take in a more controlled fashion.

“Fuck,” Potter hissed as Draco glided down his cock and opened his throat and knew he was taking in more than Potter had been expecting. He was good at this, he’d been complimented on his skill enough times to know that it wasn’t simply his ego talking, although he thought he probably wouldn’t be quite as good without the use of his hands. Probably better than anything Potter’s ever had before though, he thought smugly, before he put all thoughts aside and concentrated on sucking and licking and teasing until Potter was writhing and bucking beneath him and Draco was having a hard time not choking after all.

He’d have been annoyed if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

“Oh fuck, Draco, I’m going to…” Well at least he’d given him some warning Draco reflected as he sucked harder and let Potter come down his throat, drinking down every last drop and relishing the moans the other man gave as he sucked until it became too much and he felt Potter’s hands in his hair tugging him backwards.

“Shit, Potter, that was hot,” he muttered as he flopped backwards onto the floor and hoped that Potter had come down enough to notice that he was still sporting a very obvious problem of his own. Apparently he did, Potter was on him in seconds, swallowing his cock greedily and sucking so hard that Draco yelped and arched and came so suddenly he actually couldn’t believe it had happened.

Pleasure swirled through his already fuzzy brain and when he finally managed to open his eyes it was to see a very smug looking Potter wiping his mouth and casting a cleaning charm on them both.

“Stop wanking so much, Potter,” he muttered, as the other man pulled up his trousers and grinned down at him, “I know I’m hot but that’s completely ridiculous.”

“Fine. After that I don’t think I need to wank for at least a week anyway.” Draco snorted, but didn’t bother with a snarky retort, especially since Potter was redoing his trousers and his hands were far too near Draco’s cock for him to want to risk it. “Are you going to come talk to me this evening?”

Draco blinked. That was another unexpected declaration from Potter. Since they’d stopped researching a cure Draco hadn’t bothered to go down as much in the evenings anymore. Certainly he hadn’t done it since Harry had got back from Bulgaria. All the same, he was starting to feel lonely and Potter was looking at him with such a pitiful expression that Draco actually couldn’t stand it.

“Fine,” he said, trying to sound as if it was more of a chore than it really was, “I’ll come down this evening.”

“Good.” Potter nodded as if Draco had said something highly important. “I told you it’s not good for you to stay up here by yourself.”

It was unfortunate that he was probably right, Draco reflected, as he let Potter dress him without his usual complaints.

**********************

He did go down that evening, and the next one, and the next. They mostly played wizarding chess, with Potter moving the pieces according to his instructions, and it also turned out Potter it turned out wasn’t completely terrible to talk to. Draco hadn’t though conversations about the Weasley’s could be so entertaining, but actually some of the things they did had made Draco laugh so hard he’d nearly cried. The story about Potter’s muggle relatives and the ton-tongue toffees has been particularly entertaining and after Potter had told that story it had occurred to Draco that for him to tell it at all Potter must really have trusted that he’d changed his views about the world. He’d known Draco would laugh at it because it was funny, not because it resembled the muggle-baiting they both knew his father had taken part in.

The thought warmed Draco’s heart more than it really should have done. He’d been accepted onto the Auror program because Potter had spoken up for him and he’d proved himself more times than he could count, but most people in the Ministry still treated him with suspicion and a sort of detached politeness, as if they didn’t trust that he had really changed. It had never occurred to him before, despite his actions on his behalf, that Potter might actually be the one person who truly believed he belonged there.

It was probably why he didn’t really mind that right now Potter was half drunk on firewhisky despite the fact that he hadn’t drunk anything himself because he refused to be degraded to the level of having Potter hold a glass to his lips, or even having Kreacher do it in front of Potter. The idea didn’t bear thinking about. Besides, it was quite funny to watch Potter get slightly squiffy whilst remaining completely in control of his own faculties.

“So what’s it like?”

“What?” Draco started in his seat, he’d been so lost in thought that Potter’s question had startled him.

“Not being able to use your arms, what’s it like?”

“Annoying as hell, Potter,” he grumbled, shifting slightly, “How do you think it feels?”

“I dunno, it’s never happened to me. Except maybe when I’ve lain on my arm in bed too long and it’s gone to sleep.” Potter peered at him, looking as if he needed the glasses he no longer wore, even though Draco knew he didn’t. “Is that what it’s like?”

Draco shrugged. At least he could still do that since his shoulders weren’t numb. “I don’t know. I’ve never done that.”

“You’ve never lain on your arm and had it go numb on you?”

“No, why would I do that? I’m not some great heavy lump like you.”

Potter only grinned good-naturedly at the insult. “Just cause I’m not a skinny git like you,” he said, his words sounding distinctly slurred, “So you really can’t feel anything?”

“No, Potter,” Draco sighed in frustration wondering how many times he was going to have to repeat that this evening, “Nothing.”

“So if I do this…?” Draco didn’t have time to get out the way as Potter suddenly leaned over and pinched the skin on his lower arm. Draco suspected he’d done it quite hard since it had left a red mark, but he couldn’t actually feel anything.

“No, Potter, I can’t feel that,” he said with a sigh, trying to shift away slightly in his chair, “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cover my arm in red marks for your own gratification, I can’t even punch you in the face in retaliation right now.”

“Hmpf.” That was a strange noise, Draco thought, but at least Potter desisted and instead picked up his arm, seemingly fascinated by the way Draco’s hand dangled limply from the end. He poked at it once or twice and Draco turned away. It was just too weird to see that being done to him when he couldn’t actually feel it. It was like his hand wasn’t really his own.

He only looked back when he realised that Potter wasn’t putting his arm down. When he turned back Potter’s face was very near, too near really and he was looking in fascination at the thin white scar that ran the length of Draco’s forearm, running one long finger over it as if to confirm it actually existed.

“Don’t, Potter,” That got a questioning look though Potter’s grip on his arm was too tight for his attempts to pull away using his shoulder to be successful. “I know you’re touching me, but I can’t actually feel it. It’s too strange,” he said by way of explanation, though really at this point it was more the fact that he didn’t like the reminder of why he had that particular scar.

To his relief Potter nodded and instead started poking his finger above the elbow. Draco thought he knew where he was going with this and let him work his way up, poking at the skin until he found where Draco could feel it again.

“There!” he said, jerking his shoulder as Potter hit the point where his nerves were working and his gentle touch set them instantly on fire. “Happy now, Potter?”

“Not really. I feel sorry for you.” At least he’d let go of his arm, even if he was leaning well into Draco’s personal space and peering now at his face as if he couldn’t quite see it properly. Draco wondered if he was so drunk he was having trouble focusing.

“You’re drunk, Potter,” he said, shuffling himself sideways on the seat, away from Potter’s stare, “And in my current state I can’t carry you up the stairs if you collapse down here.”

This was apparently a hilarious joke to Potter who immediately fell back into his chair and started laughing. Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to at least maintain his own dignity, but Potter’s laugh was so rich and deep and real that eventually Draco couldn’t help the quiet burst of laughter that bubbled up from his own throat. That seemed to startle Potter into silence.

“Right,” he said and stood up. Draco had to admire the easy grace he seemed to possess, even whilst horribly drunk. The next moment Potter’s hands were taking a firm hold of his wrists and he yelped as Potter yanked him to his feet.

With no arms to balance him he collided with Potter’s chest, thankful at least that the other man wasn’t so drunk that they overbalanced and ended up on the floor.

“Steady,” Potter whispered into his ear and released the grip on his wrists in favour of wrapping his arms around him and pressing their bodies together.

“What are you doing, Potter?” He’d meant to snap it at him, but he was rather afraid it had come out as more of a gasp.

“We’re going to go upstairs, Malfoy and I’m going to strip us naked and then I’m going to make us both come,” Potter explained, as if this was nothing more unusual than making a cup of tea.

“Oh.” Draco thought he should probably say something more, but Potter’s words had rather taken his breath away.

“I might even stick my fingers up your arse again if you ask nicely.”

“Oh.” Fuck. He sounded like a right moron. He tried to gather his wits and make some sort of objection, but Potter released him and tugged on his wrist, dragging him out of the room before he could form any coherent thoughts.

He still hadn’t managed to form one five minutes later when he was lying on the bed, having already been expertly stripped naked, watching Potter settle himself between his thighs.

“What are you going to do, Potter?” His voice sounded thick. He tried to swallow, but he wasn’t sure it made things any better, especially when Potter was giving him that look. All raised eyebrows and wicked smirks, as if he was the one in control here.

Oh Merlin, who was Draco kidding? Potter was definitely the one in control right now. What had happened to him being drunk?

“That depends, Draco, what do you want me to do?” Okay so he was back to Draco again now was he? Well, he could probably cope with that, especially since Potter had cast that damn spell again and was rubbing his fingers over Draco's arse in what he thought was an excessively tantalising way. His cock twitched. Draco wondered vaguely when it had started getting hard. It wasn’t fully there yet, but if Potter kept this up it definitely would be soon.

“Whatever, Potter.” Oh good, he’d managed to make that sound sufficiently like he didn’t care, even if he did sound hoarser than usual.

“Whatever, Draco?” Those fingers were still teasing his arsehole and now the other hand was running ever so lightly over his cock, teasing him to full hardness. Merlin, how on earth was he supposed to maintain control when Potter insisted on doing this to him? It wasn’t fair. It was too damn good. It was…

“Fuck!” Potter had slipped the tip of a finger inside him, just for a second, and Draco nearly pulled a muscle snapping his hips down to try and follow it as it glided away.

“Do you want that, Draco?”

Oh Merlin, the finger was back. In, then out. His will-power snapped.

“Potter, please…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck, Potter, stick your fingers in my damn arse. Come on!” He snapped his hips down again and this time Potter’s finger was there, slipping easily inside and immediately starting to twist and wriggle. It wasn’t quite so uncomfortable as last time and the fact that he hadn’t quite found that spot yet only added to Draco’s frantic desperation. He drew his knees up in anticipation and groaned as Potter added a second finger.

They scissored and twisted and the hand over his cock was moving a bit more firmly until Potter suddenly found that spot and Draco bucked his hips. The hand left his cock then, pressing firmly on his hips to keep him still as Potter grinned in delight and began working at the spot with his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Harry, that’s it. Right there.” As if Harry hadn’t already noticed that he was writhing like an idiot and panting and throwing his head back and wishing he could use his hands to pull his knees just a little bit higher so that Potter could get in deeper and hit that spot all the harder.

“Yes, fuck. I can’t… oh Merlin.” The heat was pooling, coiling and writhing between his hips and already he was so close. Too close. “I need to come. Fuck, Harry. I need your hand on my cock. Fuck!”

“No.” What the hell? He wasn’t going to come just from this. “This’ll work.” Merlin, could Harry actually read his mind?

“Fuck, Harry. Touch me!”

“No. Trust me.”

Draco groaned in frustration and threw his head back, his feet scrabbling desperately at the covers as he tried to get some leverage to push back against Harry’s fingers. In response Harry grabbed one leg, pushed it towards his chest and drove his fingers in harder than ever.

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh my… fuck, Harry! Fuck!” The orgasm almost came as a surprise to him. It wasn’t the same as usual, it felt deeper, less immediate, more of a soft uncurling in his groin that grew and grew until the entire world was only pleasure and warmth and he was only vaguely aware that his cock was twitching and sending stream of come shooting high over his chest. “Fuck!”

He panted and gasped and Harry worked his fingers against that spot and when Draco managed to prise his eyes open the look on Harry’s face sent another wave of pleasure flooding through his body. He whimpered and Harry withdrew his fingers and instead crawled over him, coming to rest with his face just inches from Draco’s.

“I told you.”

“Fuck, Harry.” Those seemed to be the only words he was capable of forming right now. He groaned again and let his head fall back on the pillow. Harry chuckled somewhere above him and lowered his hips until Draco could feel Harry’s erection trapped between their stomachs. It was the other man’s turn to groan now and he rolled his hips in a way that caused Draco’s cock to twitch in interest. Harry stopped and raised an eyebrow

“No one gets hard again that fast, Draco.”

“Fuck, Harry.” No one except him apparently. His cock twitched again and Harry buried him face in Draco’s neck. That really didn’t help. There was another twitch.

“Seriously, Draco?”

“Harry,” he moaned and jerked his hips upwards, causing him to give a whimper. His cock was over-sensitised still, but it was very definitely well on its way to being hard again already. Draco wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Harry had given him an orgasm without really touching it.

There was another chuckle. “You know what, Draco, I can’t even reach your prostate properly with my fingers, think how good it would feel to have someone’s cock in your arse.”

“It never felt like that,” Draco mumbled vaguely, trying to work out whether he wanted to thrust his hips again or whether his cock was the wrong side of painful right now.

“Trust me.” Harry was giving him that look again, the one he’d been giving him earlier when he’d said he could make Draco come without touching him. Draco hadn’t believed him and then look what had happened.

“Fuck,” he said quietly and really did thrust then because he just couldn’t help it. He did it again, deciding that yes, it was the right side of painful, oversensitive but pleasurable enough to be well worth it. Harry groaned into his neck again and Draco realised that the other man hadn’t actually come yet.

“Do it,” he whispered.

“What?” Harry’s head had snapped up so fast Draco winced, worried for his neck muscles.

“Stick your cock in my arse, Harry, and do it before I change my mind.”

There was a moment when Harry gave him a single heavy look and then he apparently decided that he was going to take him up on the offer. From the speed at which he cast the lubrication charm and lined himself up Draco thought Harry was rather afraid that he would change his mind.

“Do it,” he said again, nodding around gritted teeth when Harry hesitated and looked at him again. He had no intention of changing his mind now he’d said it he was going to see this through.

There was an odd, uncomfortable moment when Harry was trying to push past the tight ring of muscle and then he was in, gliding forwards slowly, his eyes squeezed shut in a way that suggested to Draco he was trying not to come just from this. Draco knew the feeling. It happened to him sometimes when someone was particularly tight. It made him feel unutterably smug that Harry was getting the same feeling from his arse.

“Fuck, Draco, you’re so tight.” He’d come to a stop, panting hard, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead and making his hair hang damply in his eyes. Draco cursed internally because really he should be able to reach up and push that aside so that he could see those liquid green eyes and watch how they changed as Harry slid inside him. He couldn’t though, all he could do was nod and grit his teeth more firmly because Harry’s cock was a lot bigger than his fingers and this wasn’t exactly comfortable yet, even if it didn’t really hurt.

“Come on, Harry,” he muttered, figuring that the sooner Harry moved the sooner he could find out if this was as good as Harry had said it would be.

There was a nod and then Harry pulled out a little before grasping his hips and pushing himself forwards again until he was nestled all the way inside. Fuck, he was big. Draco hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d done this a couple of times before, but he didn’t remember ever feeling this filled up before.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re big,” he muttered and then bit his lip because that was too much like a compliment and he hadn’t really meant to give him one.

Harry opened one eye and looked at him in concern. “Does it hurt?”

Draco bit his lip harder and shook his head because it didn’t really. It just felt strange.

“Ok.” Harry started to move again, his thrusts slow and short until he hit something that ripped a strangled cry from Draco’s throat and made his muscles spasm and his whole body arch off the bed.

“Fuck, do that again!” he yelped when Harry showed no sign of doing so, but simply looked at him speculatively. He obliged and this time Draco controlled himself enough that he simply let out a deep groan and squeezed his eyes shut as the lights exploded behind his eyelids.

“Oh, yes,” Harry hissed from somewhere on top of him, and Draco felt the grip on his hips shift. Then Harry was moving, grunting and panting and hitting that spot with nearly every thrust so that Draco was an incoherent mess after only a few strokes and he felt like the only thing anchoring him to reality was Harry’s fingers digging into his flesh and the ridiculous noises he could hear the other man making.

“Oh fuck, Draco, you feel so good. So tight. Do you even… Have you… Oh fuck.”

His knees were grabbed and forced up to his chest and then Harry was pounding into him harder than ever and he’d been right about that spot. He’d been barely touching it before. Now though he was hitting it over and over and Draco knew he was going to come again before long.

“Fuck, Harry. Harder.” He couldn’t help it. It was probably too hard already, but he needed more. More of Harry. More of this. “Fuck. More. Please. More!”

“Draco, I’m going to… Oh fuck, Draco!” Harry’s hand was on his cock now, rubbing him with those rough, fast strokes that could send Draco over the edge in seconds, even without a cock in his arse doing ridiculously wonderful things to his body. He vaguely registered that Harry was coming, pulsing his come inside Draco so that it hit his prostate too and the sensation sent Draco over the edge, yelling so hard he thought his throat would be ripped in two, but not even caring right then because his whole body was alight with the most amazing orgasm he’d ever experienced.

The room spun, his ears rang and he let the pleasure engulf him.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 8: Desperation

2015-01-15T23:24:42Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: This is a much longer chapter this time, since the last two were so short. Thank you again to everyone who has left a comment!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 8: Desperation

“What the hell, Potter?!”

It was the middle of the night. Potter had only been back three days and Draco had managed to successfully ignore him for most of that time. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Potter seemed to be having more trouble ignoring him. The very obvious bulges that had started appearing in Potter’s pants every time Draco was naked had been evidence enough.

Apparently though Potter was sick of playing games because he was on top of Draco right now, very much naked and apparently he’d managed to get Draco’s pants down as well before he’d woken up.

“Look, Malfoy, I don’t know what your game is, but I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sorry I left you for so long. If you must know it wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for me either. I have wanked myself stupid over you. Do you realise that?”

Well, this was interesting. Potter was leaning over him, green eyes mere inches from his own, glaring at him with a fierce intensity that threatened to take Draco’s breath away. It didn’t help that he was having to bite back a whimper of longing every time their cocks rubbed together. He was already hard.

“You’re in my fucking head, Malfoy. You and your cock and the way you beg me to make you come. Do you even realise how hot you are, Malfoy? What the fuck am I supposed to do? I’ve missed you.”

His voice had softened on those last words and Draco finally let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I’ve missed you, Draco, and I’m going to kiss you unless you object right now.”

Draco couldn’t protest. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath and his heart was pounding in his ears and his throat was so tight he thought he might never speak again. Harry lowered his lips until they were just touching his own.

“Last chance,” he whispered. Draco found that he didn’t really want to object now, even if he had been able to. Harry’s lips met his and Draco tilted his head, moaning into Harry’s mouth and feeling a thrill of delight as Harry moaned back and kissed him gently.

His lips were soft, softer than Draco had been expecting, far warmer than Draco’s own as well. And Merlin the man knew how to kiss. Draco vaguely wondered how much practise he’d had and then decided he really didn’t care. Harry’s tongue swiped along his lower lip and without even thinking about it Draco allowed him entry. Their tongues swirled and danced and Draco groaned and thrust his hips upwards trying to encourage Harry to start moving.

“Fuck, Draco.” Harry had pulled away and Draco very nearly whimpered again at the loss of his lips, but he caught himself just in time and instead managed to look up at him steadily and thrust again. “I’ve missed you, Draco. I’ve missed this.”

He was kissing him again then, so hard it almost hurt and there was heat and wetness and Harry’s tongue in his mouth and Draco couldn’t catch his breath again but he didn’t really care about that. Who needed to breathe anyway? Harry was moving his hips, grinding their erections together and for once Draco didn’t need to tell him to do it harder or faster because it already was hard and fast and frantic and there was so much fucking friction that Draco though he was going to explode.

With a strangled cry Harry pulled away from his mouth and somehow one hand had found its way into Draco’s hair, tugging on the silky strands just hard enough to feel good. The other hand was gripping his arse now, pulling it closer, holding him steady as they both worked their hips and panted into each other’s mouths until with another strangled cry Harry came and the look in his eyes sent Draco crashing over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his veins and he kept grinding, pushing his cock through the mess of come that was coving their stomachs, eking out his orgasm for just that little bit longer.

Only when Potter collapsed against his chest completely spent did Draco stop and try to blink away the lights flashing in front of his eyes.

“Fucking hell.” Potter muttered. He seemed to be trying to get up, but Draco found he really didn’t mind him lying on his chest so much this time.

“So eloquent,” he drawled, although there was no malice behind his words this time. “Going to tell me what that was all about then, Potter?”

“Sex.”

“Obviously.”

Potter had managed to struggle back upright and his cleaning charm was very welcome.

“What I mean, Malfoy, is that this is about sex. You need me and the idea that you need me is hot. It turns me on. You’re an annoying git, but you’re hot as hell, so we’re going to do this. You’re going to stop playing games and we’re just going to do this until things go back to normal. Ok?”

“Oh.” Well that was unexpected. Draco wasn’t actually entirely sure what he was expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “Right.” Well it made sense he supposed. He’d probably be turned on if he had someone as hot as him needing his help like this. Of course Potter was going to find him attractive. Of course he wanted to use Draco’s body for his own pleasure. Poor git had probably never had anyone as attractive as Draco to lust over before.

“Fine,” he said in the end, “We’ll do this then. But only when I’m horny. I don’t need you jumping me every five seconds Potter. It’s not my fault you can’t get sex elsewhere.”

That was definitely worth it. Just to see the way Potter stood there opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish. “Fuck you, Malfoy, I can get plenty of sex!”

“Oh yes, sorry I forgot. You’re the Chosen One. I bet people are just lining up to have sex with you.”

Apparently that was quite close to the truth, at least judging by the way Potter reddened and looked at the floor.

“Hero worship, Malfoy” he muttered, spitting the words out as if they tasted bad, “I’m not into casual sex with people who don’t even know me.”

Draco couldn’t help arching an eyebrow at that. “What’s this if it isn’t casual sex, Potter?”

Merlin, how could one person blush that much? It was actually quite endearing. “It is, but it’s different, Malfoy, and you know it, you need me and at least you know who I really am.”

“Yep, an annoying little git who can’t keep his cock in his pants.” Well, Potter had walked right into that one, it would almost have been a crime not to follow up on it. “And I’m certainly not about to start hero worshiping you, Potter.”

For some reason that made the little git grin and rub his hand through his hair as if he was quite pleased despite the insult. “Most of the time,” he said cryptically and pulled up the covers over Draco and left the room before he could even ask what the hell Potter was talking about now.

************************

It was almost pitiful the way Potter was giving him such petulant looks whenever he came into his room in the morning and Draco wasn’t hard. In four days he’d only had one mutual wanking session with Potter and Draco was actually quite proud. Genuinely proud this time because he had started to see some value in what Potter had said a few weeks ago. He did have better orgasms when he didn’t have one everyday.

It was a shame Potter didn’t actually seem to be enjoying taking his own advice.

Last night Potter had given him a shower. Not a bath this time, an actual proper shower, which had been more blissful than Draco could ever have imagined. He hadn’t realised quite how much he missed showers until he’d stood under one with the water running over his body, feeling as if it was washing away a layer of grime he hadn’t been aware of and which was probably only there in his imagination.

It had been so good in fact that even when Potter had stripped to his boxers and got in with him and given him a proper wash from head to toe he hadn’t had too much of reaction. It had simply felt too good to be properly scrubbed with soap rather than cleaning charms for him to even contemplate anything sexual in the situation.

Potter obviously hadn’t had that distraction though and afterwards Draco had pretended he hadn’t noticed the ridiculously large tent Potter had been sporting in his boxers.

“You know you’re a little git, right?”

Merlin, what the hell was Potter doing in his room so early? Draco’s eyes flew open and the first thing they saw was said boxers with a very obvious erection straining to get out. That made his already hard cock twitch more than it really should when he was well aware that the cock belonged to Potter of all people. He slid his eyes up to the man’s face, just to make sure, and yep… definitely Potter. He looked pissed. Pissed and horny.

“Do you have any idea just how much giving you a shower turned me on, Malfoy?” he groaned, already clambering onto the bed and starting to remove Draco’s trousers, “And you didn’t even react. You little git.”

Draco was finding it hard to protest at Potter’s behaviour right now because the man had already wrapped his hand around his cock and was wanking him slowly and teasingly. It was all Draco could do not to whimper with need. Merlin, he couldn’t wait until this was over and he could stop acting like some sex-starved idiot around Potter. One good fuck with someone else and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t ever want to feel Potter’s hand on his cock again. The fact that he wanted it right now was completely irrelevant.

“You’ve got a very nice cock, Malfoy.” Draco’s hips bucked slightly at that. Potter was running his thumb, over the head and looking at it speculatively, watching the little beads of pre-come form at the tip. “Do you know what I’d like to do to you, Malfoy?”

He’d released Draco’s cock and suddenly he was there, leaning over Draco so far that he could no longer see his face. Their bodies weren’t pressed together yet, but they very nearly were and Draco could feel Potter’s warm breath ghosting over his ear.

“I bet you’re good to fuck, Malfoy.” Potter’s voice was low and throaty and because he had full use of his arms he’d somehow managed to balance himself on one elbow and the other hand was running up the side of Draco’s body, tracing a shuddering trail of warmth from his hip to his shoulder.

Draco shivered and then tried to pretend he hadn’t. “I don’t bottom, Potter.”

“Really?” Merlin, the git sounded more intrigued than anything now. The husky tone had been replaced by one of curiosity. “Why not?”

“None of your business, Potter!” At least the change in tone had meant he’d managed to get himself more under control. What the hell was Potter playing at asking him such intimate questions anyway?

“Maybe not, but I’d still like to know.” He’d accompanied the words with a roll of his hips that sent a spike of pleasure up Draco’s spine. He suppressed a groan.

“I just don’t, Potter, okay?” Merlin, the man was doing that thing with his hips again and Draco was having to bite his tongue to stop himself from begging him to just get on with it. The tongue Potter was flicking over his ear really wasn’t helping.

“Tell me why you don’t like it and I’ll make you come, Draco.” That husky tone was back again. It really wasn’t helping Draco’s state of mind.

“Fuck off, Potter!”

“Fine.”

Merlin the man was actually climbing off his lap and for once Draco was glad his arms weren’t working, because if they were he’d definitely have made a fool of himself by dragging Potter back and making himself look far too needy for words. Instead he swirled his tongue around his mouth trying to work up enough moisture to actually get some words out and said, “Why don’t you like it?”

At least it stopped Potter getting off. He settled back down on Draco’s thighs and gave him an odd look. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

“You just said you wanted to fuck me, Potter,” Draco said desperately, “That implies you don’t want to bottom either.”

Potter chuckled. The git was laughing at him! He was also lowering himself back down though and his lips were next to Draco’s ear again. He could feel the little huffs of air tickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

“I would like to fuck you, Malfoy, but I’ve no objection to being a bottom with the right person. Why don’t you like it?”

“I just don’t, Potter! Why does there have to be a reason?” He was squirming now, trying to find some way to thrust his hips upwards into Potter’s because he could damn well feel the other man’s cock rubbing lightly against his and it was driving him bloody crazy. How was Potter holding back?

“It’s uncomfortable if you must know,” he blurted out finally, when it was clear his efforts were failing and he strongly suspected that Potter was grinning in amusement against his ear, “I have no idea why anyone would want a cock up their arse. There’s nothing nice about it!”

“Hmm.” Merlin, since when had Potter turned into a bloody therapist? “But surely other men like having your cock in their arse? They obviously find it pleasant. There must be something nice about it.”

“That’s because I’m good at sex, Potter.” At least he could be smug about that. He knew it was true. Blaise kept coming back for more, and some of the other men he’d fucked did too, at least when he deemed them good enough to be allowed back.

“How many times have you tried it?”

Okay this was getting really annoying now. Potter had actually sat up, apparently not at all bothered about the fact that his cock was still erect and leaking pre-come, now apparently he was much more interested in Draco’s sexual habits.

Why?

Draco actually thought about that for a moment and then came to what he realised was a very obvious conclusion. Potter didn’t have anyone else to talk about this with. That had to be it. Draco mentally ran through a list of Potter’s friends and realised that none of them were gay. No straight man was going to want to talk about this to him and Draco suspected Potter found the idea of talking about sex with Granger as off-putting as Draco did, if for slightly different reasons. Nope, Draco was Potter’s only option.

The idea made him feel better and he decided he might as well indulge him.

“Maybe twice,” he said, tilting his head to one side as Potter frowned down at him.

“Twice is hardly a fair trial, Draco.”

“It was quite enough for me thank you. I didn’t like it.”

“Don’t you ever stick your own finger up your arse when you’re… you know.”

Oh Merlin, now even Potter was looking embarrassed about this. The only consolation was that if Potter was embarrassed then somehow that made Draco feel better. He resisted the urge to blush, tilted his head back slightly so he was looking down his nose at Potter and said, “My masturbation habits are none of your business, Potter, but if you really must know then I have once or twice. Just not very far.”

“So what your problem really is, is that no one’s ever found your prostate.”

“If you say so, Potter.”

“I do say so.” Draco wasn’t at all sure he liked the way Potter’s eyes flashed as he said that, nor the way he tipped himself down so that he was once again hanging over Draco. What he did like however was the way Potter started thrusting slowly with his hips, rubbing their naked cocks together in a way that sent little spirals of pleasure racing through his body.

“If someone had found your prostate, Malfoy, then you wouldn’t be so dismissive about having a cock up your arse.”

There wasn’t really anything to say to that Draco thought, so he simply shrugged and let his eyes drop closed, enjoying the sensations building in his groin that would eventually lead to his release. It seemed Potter was happy to do the same, because he grunted and dropped down onto his elbows, increasing the pressure and the rhythm, eliciting little moans of pleasure from them both.

“Fuck, Draco, you feel so good.”

If he felt that good then why the fuck was Potter stopping and sitting up and looking at him with that expression on his face?

Potter…” It sounded whiny, but seriously, Draco was not happy about being left hanging.

“You aren’t the only one who’s good at sex, Malfoy.” Potter was reaching for his wand and Draco couldn’t really imagine why. He wriggled his hips impatiently and squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m going to find your prostate now.”

What?!

Draco’s eyes flew open. “You’re not touching my arse, Potter!” Thank Merlin his legs were still working, he clamped his thighs together and glared at Potter, who seemed to have cast some sort of lubrication spell judging by the way his fingers were glistening in the dim light of the lamps.

“Yes I am, Draco, come on.” The hand that was free of lube was trying to prise his thighs open, but Draco clamped harder and shook his head. Potter ceased his efforts and instead regarded him with a half amused look, head tilted to one side. “Scared, Malfoy?”

“Fuck off, Potter!”

“You are scared. Scared to have a little finger up your arse. Who would have thought you’d be scared of something like that?”

“I’m not scared, Potter,” he spat, annoyed that Potter had managed to find the one argument that would probably make him give in. Annoyed and half impressed. Since when had Potter been so manipulative?

“Prove it.”

Draco sighed. “Fine, Potter, but I’m not going to enjoy it.”

“Fine, if it hurts you can tell me to stop.”

Reluctantly Draco let his legs fall open, narrowing his eyes at Potter in a glare he was sure would let the other man know exactly what he thought of this. He was certainly not going to enjoy this.

Not that it hurt. Potter worked his finger gently over his hole, stroking his penis lightly with the other hand until Draco couldn’t help but relax and allow Potter to push past the tight ring of muscle to get inside. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but once Potter was in Draco realised it wasn’t exactly terrible either. It was pretty much like the times he’d done this with his own finger, except that Potter could obviously get his further.

He was doing that now, pushing in so far that Draco gasped and Potter stopped, eyeing him in concern.

“Ok?” he asked, and Draco nodded, because he wasn’t going to have Potter thinking he couldn’t cope with something so basic as having a single finger inside him. Potter nodded and resumed pushing, until his entire finger was buried inside and he started wriggling it around, a speculative look on his face as if he was expecting to find something hidden in there.

Draco wrinkled his nose at that thought and almost missed it when Potter said, “Knees up, Malfoy.” It was probably that lack of attention which made him obey before he’d even thought about the fact that this was Potter he was obeying without even bothering to ask him why he’d given the instruction in the first place.

More wriggling and then the finger withdrew part way and Draco sighed with relief, thinking that Potter was giving up, right up until the point when he realised that no, actually, Potter wasn’t giving up because this was Potter and he was nothing if not stubborn and what he was actually doing was adding a second finger and shoving – hard and deep.

“What the hell are you playing at…? Fuck!” Draco’s hips bucked involuntarily and Potter pushed again, setting off the explosion of pleasure as he touched something inside that Draco hadn’t even known was there. “Fuck, Potter!”

Oh Merlin, he hated that smug, self-satisfied grin on Potter’s face, but he really couldn’t hate what Potter was doing with his fingers and the only solution to that was to shut his eyes and pretend that it wasn’t Potter doing this. It wasn’t Potter making his body writhe and lights dance before his eyes.

“Fuck,” he whimpered as Potter hit the spot again. Merlin, this was better than anything he had ever imagined. How had no one done this to him before?

“I told you, Malfoy.” Potter’s voice had gone husky again and Draco whimpered again, this time because the fingers had abandoned his arse and wrapped around his cock instead, which was good, but not as good. “I’m not doing that again until you ask me to, Malfoy,” he growled, lowering his lips back to Draco’s ear and removing his hand from Draco’s cock so he could thrust their hips together again.

“Fuck, Potter!” With the pleasure still coursing through his veins Draco really couldn’t have cared less right now what Potter did to get him off, but the tiny part of his sanity that remained refused to allow him to beg Potter to put his fingers back, which was what he really wanted right now.

“Well, Malfoy? What do you want?” Damn that husky growl, which very nearly pushed him over the edge. He wasn’t going to beg for that, but he wasn’t above begging for something else right now.

“Shut it, Potter. Make me come already.”

“Like this?” Another thrust of the hips. Draco was too far gone now to really care.

“Fuck yes. Harder.” There was a grunt, which might have been frustration or might have been pleasure and then Potter really did start moving, thrusting and grinding and pushing until Draco was nearly mindless with sheer ecstasy and he was vaguely aware that those fingers up his arse had made this even better than usual.

“Fuck, Potter. I need to come. Like that. Yes. So good, Potter.” He wasn’t even aware of what he was saying anymore. There was heat pooling in his groin and the satisfying hardness of Harry’s cock rubbing against his and it was all too fucking good. “Oh fuck! Harry, fuck!”

Whether it was his use of Harry’s first name, or whether it was just because it was time Harry came with a surprised yell that registered vaguely in Draco’s brain as it being the former and that thought sent him over the edge as well, swearing and writhing and loving the fact that Harry kept grinding through his own orgasm making it last long enough that Draco thought he was losing his mind.

“Fucking hell, Draco.” Harry dropped down onto his chest, head buried in his shoulder and breath coming in quick little pants that made Draco wonder if the man was actually hyperventilating when he came down from his own pleasure enough to have a coherent thought.

“I meant what I said you know.” Ok so he wasn’t hyperventilating, but he was still pressed against Draco’s chest and he thought he really should be more bothered that this meant there was a horrible layer of come spread across their chests and stomachs, but right now Draco really couldn’t bring himself to worry about that at all.

“What about?” he said vaguely, wishing that he could run a hand through that ridiculously scruffy mop Harry called his hair.

Harry sat up, something which disappointed Draco and left him feeling distinctly colder than before. About sticking my fingers up your arse. I know you enjoyed it and I’m not doing it again until you beg me for it.”

“Fuck off, Potter!”

The smugly satisfied grin on the git’s face really irritated Draco and he scowled darkly. Yes, he’d enjoyed it, but really it hadn’t been that good had it? His treacherous sub-conscious said that yes, it had, but luckily the curse hadn’t damaged his sanity and Draco vowed that he was going to wait until he had a much more suitable sexual partner than Potter to explore that any further.

He scowled again as he felt the cleaning charm take effect and then found himself looking at Potter curiously as the other man sighed and then rubbed his face with his hands.

“Look, Malfoy, I’m sorry ok? I’d have thought you’d have been happy about the fact that I so obviously can’t resist you.”

“You thought I’d be happy that I was having to fuck a bloke I don’t even like?” Incredulousness had replaced annoyance now. How the hell did Potter’s friends cope with all these sudden changes in mood? Draco realised he had a newfound respect for Granger and the Weasel – they’d have to be pretty patient to put up with shit like this.

Another sigh. “All right, wrong word. Not happy, smug, I guess.”

He couldn’t help the snort of laughter he gave at that, though he tried to look like he hadn’t done it afterwards. “Well, it’s only to be expected, Potter, I am irresistible after all,” he drawled, feeling much better about the situation now he was back in control, “Now are you going to get me dressed?”

He was and he did. Draco was somewhat relieved.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 7: Loneliness

2015-01-13T22:18:36Z

What Can I Do? - Chapter 6: Abstinence

2015-01-11T22:02:22Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has left a comment and to everyone who is reading along in the background. Hope you're all still enjoying it!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 6: Abstinence

The look on Potter’s face was almost one of disappointment. Almost Draco decided. From the shake of his head it was definitely more of a, ‘I know you’re going to wake me up in the night again if you keep insisting on doing this’ look. Draco tilted his head back and regarded him coolly from where he was seated on the side of the bed, firmly back in control of his body for the fourth day on the run and very definitely not about to go running into Potter’s room in the middle of the night again.

The man had even given him a bath last night and Draco suspected it had been to try and stave off any middle of the night rude awakenings, but Draco had remained strong this time. He was far too embarrassed about what had happened last time – especially about the crying – to risk a repeat of it again. He’d resorted to Millicent cavorting naked with Hagrid to get rid of that problem, but at least it had very much worked.

Long walks in the day whilst Potter was at work seemed to be helping as well.

Seemed to be. It was always his sub-conscious mind that let him down. He was dreaming now, he knew he was. There was the man with the green eyes and black hair, teasing is cock, tweaking his nipples just the way Potter had the day before. He was giving that laugh as well each time Draco’s hips jerked. That throaty laugh that Potter had given last time he’d had his hand on his cock and it was that more than anything that was driving Draco crazy. Fuck, he wanted to come already. The man lowered his mouth to his cock, practically swallowed the entire thing and then gazed up at him with those liquid green eyes.

“Fuck!” Draco wasn’t even awake yet, but he was pretty sure he’d said that out loud even in real life. The man in his dream started moving his mouth and Draco swore again. It was good, so good. He just needed to stay asleep for a little bit longer. His orgasm was so close...

“Shit!” He’d woken up again. Something was different though this time. There was a weight on his legs and a coolness around his thighs that suggested he was already naked. He prised his eyes open and saw a pair of real green eyes hovering just a few inches away from his.

“Fuck, Potter. Do something. I need to come.” He hadn’t really meant to say the words, but there was a hiss of indrawn breath and the eyes disappeared from his line of vision and then there was a hand around his cock, except it was stroking with those firm, slow strokes that just weren’t enough and weren’t right.

“Potter!” He didn’t care if he sounded whiny. His back arched and his legs scrabbled at nothing and he was fucking desperate. “Harder, Potter. Harder. Come on. Fuck. I can’t… please. Fuck.”

“I love it when you beg, Malfoy.” Shit he couldn’t even latch onto a coherent thought about how wrong it was that Potter was half growling those words to him, or how he really shouldn’t be letting the other man sit back on his heels slightly and free his own cock, which he started stroking in the same slow way as he was doing to Draco’s, clearly teasing himself.

“Come on, Malfoy, tell me what you want,” he growled, “You wake me up in the middle of the night because you’ve got some weird ideas about your own fucked up pride so you can damn well tell me what you want.”

Oh fuck. There was nothing else he could do right now.

“Oh come on, Potter.” There was that whiny tone back again, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You know how I want it.”

“Like this?” Shit. There it was. Fucking expert Potter.

“Fuck, yes. Fuck! Don’t stop!” The heat was pooling in his groin, he could feel his climax approaching. He was going to fall over the edge hard and fast and…

“Fuck!”

Potter had fucking stopped. Draco’s eyes flew open as Potter leant over him and now his right hand, the one that should have been on Draco’s cock was on his own and he was leaning over him on his left hand, leaving Draco hanging.

“Fuck, Draco, what have you done to me?”

“I don’t fucking care, just get your hand back on my cock right now!”

“Shit!”

He had no idea what Potter was thinking, or even how he’d done it but the next second it was bloody obvious that he’d pressed their cocks together and was wanking them both at the same time with the same hand and what was even more obvious was that it felt too bloody amazing for anything.

“Oh fuck, Potter. Yes. Like that. Fuck. So fucking good. Fuck!”

He came, vaguely aware that Potter was coming too, but so completely consumed by the fire burning through his veins that everything else was just a distraction. Potter was still moving his hand and his body convulsed and shuddered and his hips thrust forwards without his permission and his orgasm didn’t seem to be stopping. The world darkened and his ears rang and he lost himself completely in all consuming pleasure.

“Shit.” Potter’s voice brought him back down to reality with a bump, especially when a moment later Potter’s arm seemed to give out and he collapsed down on top of Draco in a mess of sticky fluids that felt completely disgusting sandwiched between their chests.

“Ugh, Potter, get off me.” Of course he had no way to shove him off, and without the leverage of his arms Potter was too heavy for Draco to roll him off, so he was forced to lay there as Potter panted and sweated on top of him and the whole thing was generally disgusting. “What the hell was all that about anyway?”

“Fuck, Draco.” Since when did Potter call him Draco? “Look I’m sorry, but you’ve got to stop waking me in the night if you don’t want things like this to happen. You’re too damn hot when you’re like this.”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault you can’t control yourself?”

“Yes!” Potter shot upright at that, much to Draco’s relief and a moment later that relief increased as he felt the cleaning spell take effect. “Look, Draco. Everything was fine when you just gave into your urges like a normal person. If you don’t want me jumping on top of you like this just let’s go back to doing it in the mornings. There’s nothing wrong with it. I don’t know why you’ve suddenly got it into your head that it’s a bad thing.”

“I thought maybe everyday was a bit too often.” Draco tried his best to look superior as he said that, but he wasn’t sure he did a very good job.

“Yes.” Potter actually bit his lip once he’d said that. “I mean, only because you seem to have better orgasms when you don’t do it everyday,” he said, making Draco gape at him in what he knew was a very stupid way, “I wank all the damn time. Too much. Especially since you started doing this.”

“Doing what?” It was something of a revelation that Potter was admitting to wanking too much. It was something he was definitely going to have to think about later.

“This!” He gestured as if it made things obvious. “Waking me up in the night and begging me for relief. It’s hot, Draco. I keep telling you. I might not particularly like you and to be honest I think you’re a bit mental but you’re sexy as hell when you do this, Draco. You need to stop it.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Draco wasn’t sure why this little speech was upsetting him, but it was. “We’ll just do it in the morning then, if I’m hard.”

“Fine. Good.” To his relief Potter was climbing off him and pulling the covers up around him. He wanted to cry again and that really was ridiculous. He lasted until Potter had left the room and then caved in again, crying himself to sleep and not even really knowing why he was doing it.

**********

He had to keep his word, if only because Potter glared at him fiercely on the mornings when he tried to control his body and he wasn’t hard. Not that Potter was doing it everyday anyway. Every other day seemed to be his limit. Draco wasn’t exactly happy, but it kept his body sated and he didn’t have any more dreams about the man with green eyes.

He didn’t go down and speak to Potter in the evenings anymore either. He didn’t particularly want to speak to someone who thought he was a bit mental. Loneliness started to eat away at him. There wasn’t even research to distract him. Everyone seemed to have given up. He was halfway through the time the Healers had said it would take for the curse to wear off and even Draco had to concede there was little point anymore.

Life was shit.

Also Potter was home early.

“I’m going away.”

Unable to contain his curiosity Draco had gone to Potter’s room to find him throwing clothes into a suitcase without even bothering to fold them. If he could have felt them Draco was sure his hands would be itching with the urge to take them out and pack them properly. As it was he could only watch in dismay as Potter carried on regardless.

“How long for?” he asked dully, when it was clear more information wasn’t forthcoming.

“Just until Friday. There’s a case we’re working on. We’ll be in Bulgaria.”

“Who’s going to look after me?” The thought occurred to Draco that with Potter gone there would be no one except Kreacher to dress him.

“Kreacher of course.”

“What about…?” he left that one hanging and Potter raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve gone five days before,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Draco resisted the urge to say that since Potter hadn’t done anything to him this morning it would actually be six days, but felt that might sound a bit too needy.

“Who will I talk to?” Well if he’d been going for not needy that had definitely blown it.

“Malfoy, you’ve barely spoken to me for nearly two weeks,” Potter said, straightening out to glare at him, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“You said I was mental.” It had come out as a mumble. He hadn’t really meant to say it at all.

“What?” Potter looked frankly horrified, though whether it was at Draco or at the situation Draco had no idea.

He attempted to straighten himself up and fix Potter with an imperious gaze. “You said I was mental. I assumed you didn’t want to speak to me.”

“Bloody hell, Malfoy.”

Suddenly Potter was very close. So close that Draco found himself forced to back up until he hit the wall, just to stop Potter invading his personal space. It didn’t work. Potter was peering into his eyes as if he was expecting to actually see things written there in tiny writing that he had to get up close to read.

“You are a bit mental, Malfoy,” he said, as if this were obvious, “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to speak to you.”

“You said you didn’t like me!” If his voice was high and frantic sounding, it was hardly his fault. Potter was being a bloody git again with these ridiculous games.

“I don’t dislike you either, Malfoy. And I’ve had my hand on your cock, talking to you is hardly going to be a problem is it?”

Draco just stared at him. This was just too weird to be happening.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy.”

“You said that once already. What are you doing!?” The last bit was because Potter was suddenly working at the fastenings on his trousers and his treacherous cock, which hadn’t had any relief this morning, was already responding with interested little twitches.

“I’m giving you something to help you last until I get back.”

“What?!” Merlin he was squeaking again and Potter raised an eyebrow as he knelt down in front of him. This really was too weird to be happening. He was still only half hard when Potter suddenly wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked him in to his mouth.

“Fuck!”

He could feel his cock growing inside Potter’s warm, wet mouth until it really was too big to fit and Potter was forced to pull his lips away with a soft hum of contentment and resort to licking and caressing it to full hardness.

Draco felt he really should be raising some sort of objection to the fact that Potter seemed to think it was perfectly fine to put his mouth all over his cock, but he found that he really couldn’t come up with anything coherent so instead he leant his head back on the wall and wished his hands weren’t so bloody useless because they’d look really good right now in Potter’s hair.

“Fuck.”

Potter had swallowed his cock down as far as he could get it and Draco looked down to see liquid green eyes staring up at him. Bloody hell. He’d been dreaming about Potter giving him a blowjob like this for weeks. It was only now it was actually happening that he could admit to himself that the green-eyed man wasn’t just like Potter, he was Potter. This was his dream. Except this was better than his dream.

“Fuck, Potter,” he said quietly and let his head tip back against the wall as Potter started working his mouth up and down his cock, slowly at first and then harder and faster, holding Draco hips against the wall with strong hands until Draco knew he couldn’t possibly take anymore and he came into Potter’s mouth. He probably should have warned him, but it seemed Potter didn’t care because he drank it down and sucked and licked until Draco whimpered and he let go.

It was only when Potter let out his own whimper that Draco bothered to open his eyes and look down, just in time to see Potter tugging hard on his own cock which almost immediately let out a stream of sticky white fluid as Potter gave a strangled cry of pleasure.

Draco waited a few moments before he felt able to drawl, “You can’t say that was because I was begging for anything.”

Potter groaned and tipped forward until his head was resting on Draco’s stomach. He shook his head and pulled out his wand to spell them both clean before he pulled up their trousers. He obviously didn’t want Draco to say anything else about it and Draco felt inclined to oblige. It had been a very good blowjob after all.

“Look, Draco, just look after yourself until I get back, ok? Ron or Peterson will come and check on you each day.” Potter was on his feet now, spelling his suitcase closed and refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

There was a split second where Draco was pretty sure Potter was about to kiss him, but then the moment passed and Potter was gone.

Draco couldn’t help the vague feeling of disappointment as he went through to his bedroom and lay down on the bed. It was going to be a long five days.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 5: Dependence

2015-01-10T22:46:22Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has left a comment and to everyone who is reading along in the background. Hope you're all still enjoying it!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 5: Dependence

They did try everyday for the next week and a new routine developed. Potter would arrive at his bedroom in the morning, sit on Draco’s legs and wank him steadily until Draco came then cast enough cleaning charms that Draco felt refreshed before he dressed him and then left the rest to Kreacher. It seemed to work. Draco hadn’t had anymore of the dreams – or at least none that he remembered come morning.

It had all been going so well. Why did his body have to choose tonight to ruin it all? It wasn’t even like Potter had given him a bath today. That had been the day before and it hadn’t affected him in the slightest. Why did his body have to rebel tonight?

Those might have been the thoughts in his head when he woke up screaming an obscenity at his bedroom ceiling, but there were no thoughts in his head other than kicking off the covers and grinding his teeth and desperately needing Potter’s hand on his cock right now because he thought he was going to go a little bit insane without it.

That green-eyed idiot had been in his dream again and Draco had been burying his hands in the man’s luscious black hair whilst his cock had been firmly down the man’s throat and he’d been so close he was amazed to wake up and find he hadn’t actually come yet. He needed to so badly that he almost cried with relief when Potter came flying into the room, lit the lamps and practically jumped on top of him, ripping his pants down so fast that Draco actually let out a cry of pain, which turned into a moan of relief when Potter’s hand wrapped around him a second later.

“Fuck Potter.” It annoyed him immeasurably that Potter had gone back to his usual technique when he did this in the mornings, as if he thought that not giving Draco exactly what he wanted somehow made it more tolerable. Draco didn’t know who or what it was more tolerable for, but he completely refused degrade himself by begging. It was bad enough Potter was having to do this at all.

Unfortunately much like last time this had happened the willpower deserted him at times like these. “Harder Potter. Come on. Faster. Yes, like that! Fuck!” His back arched as Potter responded to his entreaties, shifting on his legs and speeding up his hand, setting off those spikes of pleasure that drove straight into his mind and set off explosions behind his eyelids. He writhed against the mattress and threw his head back. “Fuck Potter. Harder. Make me come.”

“Fuck Malfoy!” The hand stopped and Draco let out a growl of frustration, his eyes flying open, fully prepared to curse Potter to Azkaban and back until he saw the way the other man was hanging over him, slick with sweat and panting as breathlessly as he was. “What the fuck are you doing Malfoy? Have you any idea how hot you look right now?”

Frankly the only sensible reaction to that was to gawp at Potter like an idiot until his words sank in and he managed to drag his eyes down to Potter’s crotch. He was only wearing boxers and the tent in them was not something the other man was ever going to be able to hide. Draco raised an eyebrow. His size was impressive, he’d give him that.

“Do something about it then,” he gasped, he’d been going for a drawl, but it hadn’t quite worked out, “I don’t care Potter, just do something.”

There was a split second hesitation and then Potter let out a quiet “fuck,” and pulled himself free of his boxers. He had quite a nice cock, Draco thought, before Potter’s left hand closed around his own and his right hand was back on Draco’s and there were no more thoughts, just Draco watching in fascination as Potter wanked them both at the same time, until the sensations became too much and he collapsed back on the bed with his eyes closed.

“Oh fuck yes Potter,” he muttered, “Fuck yes.” He came with a strangled cry just as hard and as long as he had done last time, spiralling away into white hot oblivion and only returning when he heard Potter’s groan and managed to force his eyes open just in time to see the ropes of pearly white come splashing across their stomachs. He really couldn’t help it if the sight made his own cock twitch in Potter’s hand.

“Fuck Malfoy.” Bloody hell. Potter was actually collapsing next to him, which meant they were lying in bed together and there was nothing Draco could do about it. Well actually there was. He kicked out at him with a leg, ignoring his groan in favour of doing it again.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy I can’t move.”

“Not my problem. Get out of my bed.”

“Technically it’s my bed you know.”

“You do realise you just wanked over me right? I am never going to let you forget that.”

“Shut up, Malfoy, I’ve had my hand on your cock and made you come more times than I can count. You have no right to say anything at this point.”

“That was necessity,” Draco pointed out smugly, “Not choice. You chose to wank over me. I win.”

“You win?” Potter actually snorted at him disdainfully, which Draco thought didn’t really suit him, “It’s not a competition. And I defy anyone not to need a wank after listening to you beg for it.”

“I did not beg for it,” Draco said sniffily, knowing full well that he had, but vaguely hoping Potter didn’t actually remember.

“You so did and you woke me up again in the night with your incessant demands for orgasms. Next time I’ll just leave you to it shall I?”

Merlin. That didn’t bear thinking about. Draco pursed his lips and tried to pretend nothing was happening as Potter finally decided to sit up and cast the necessary cleaning charms to get rid of the sticky fluids.

“Go back to sleep Draco.” He sounded tired Draco realised and feeling suddenly guilty for some inexplicable reason he rolled over so he was facing away from Potter and didn’t bother to say anything even when he felt him pulling the covers back over his naked body.

****************

By the next morning Draco had decided that the best way to deal with the fact that Potter had basically wanked them both off at the same time was to pretend that it hadn’t actually happened. Maybe if he did then the image of Potter’s cock wouldn’t be burned into the back of his eyeballs and he wouldn’t keep thinking about how attractive that part of Potter actually was. It was one thing to decide Potter had beautiful eyes – they were after all an unusually startling shade of green, but it was quite another to find such an intimate part of his body attractive.

It seemed that Potter was dealing with it the same way as well, though he did raise an eyebrow when he entered the room and found Draco without his usual morning erection. Draco was extremely glad he’d woken up early enough to replace the image of Potter with an image of Milicent and get himself back under control in time.

He was only thinking about Potter because Potter was the only person he’d seen in over five weeks either naked or dressed. What he needed was to get out of the house.

He’d only ventured as far as the back garden previously, once Potter had begun insisting that he needed some fresh air and telling him he looked ill. It was the idea that his appearance was being affected that had driven him out into the sunshine in the end, though he suspected that had been Potter’s plan all along when he thought about it.

Today though he actually went out of the front door after Potter had left for work and took a brisk walk around some of the nearby streets, trying to look as natural as he could when his arms were dangling limply by his sides. Luckily it seemed that wherever Grimmauld Place – the road name on the sign at the end of Harry’s street, was the neighbourhood was pretty deserted during the day. He came across a few people, mostly old ladies, and no one seemed to be looking at his arms as if there was anything odd about them.

He stayed out an hour, realising in the same way that he’d realised he needed company, that he’d missed being outside and that the four walls of the house had been affecting him more than he’d cared to admit. He resolved to go out more often and when he arrived back threw himself into his research with renewed vigour.

Granger had sent some books that she’d thought might help and though he wasn’t exactly hopeful anymore it at least gave him a goal, something to aim for in what would otherwise be rather aimless reading.

Potter arrived back at the usual time and that night there were no dreams to wake either of them up.

****************

Potter stopped giving him a hand job everyday. It seemed that since he’d obviously decided that one everyday hadn’t stopped the dreams there was absolutely no point making the effort. Besides Draco was doing his best to try and get his body back under his control and he was managing it more and more often. By the end of the second week he’d managed to go four days without Potter touching his cock, which was something he was really quite proud of.

It was a shame Potter had managed to ruin all that by choosing tonight to give him a bath. He’d been doing so well. He’d even managed to keep himself under control all throughout the bath itself. It was only now, afterwards, when he was lying in bed and images of Potter on top of him rose unbidden to the front of his mind and the memory of how good Potter’s hands felt when they massaged his scalp sent tingles down his spine that the problem came back in full force.

He wriggled uncomfortably for a while and then, as the images turned into Potter with one hand on his own cock and one on Draco’s he rolled over and let the friction from the mattress send trickles of pleasure coursing through his groin.

It was only after a few minutes of this that he came to his senses and realised that not only was he teasing himself to images of Potter of all people, But that there was absolutely nothing he could do to follow up n the teasing.

“Shit.” He rolled over and cursed at the ceiling, realising that his cock was throbbing and leaking pre-come into his pants and that there was absolutely no way images of Millicent were going to do it this time.

“Fuck.” The solution was obvious. Lie here and really really try very hard to get rid of his erection or give in and go find Potter. He chose the latter, though why having Potter know he was weak and pathetic and couldn’t live without wanking was any better than the former option really didn’t bear thinking about. He also didn’t understand why he even cared if Potter thought he was weak and pathetic or why it had suddenly occurred to him that this was the real reason he hadn’t been making Potter touch him as often. He didn’t like the way that Potter had looked at him when he’d admitted he wanked everyday, or when he woke up in the middle of the night unable to control his urges. It made him feel dirty and disgusting and completely degraded.

Also guilty. He was forcing Potter to do something that Potter probably didn’t want to do at all. Even if he had wanked over him, Draco knew that the reason was exactly what Potter had said it was. It would be difficult for any gay man not to wank over someone begging them the way he had done to Potter that night. All Potter had done was respond naturally to him behaving like a complete slut. It was time to stop.

That really didn’t explain why he was outside Potter’s bedroom now, silently thanking Kreacher for the fact that he’d fitted one of those foot devices to this door as well and that he was able to push it open and step inside without any problems.

He stopped by Potter’s bed and looked down at him. The man was already asleep and he looked so peaceful, so unlike the way Potter looked when he was awake, when he burned with intensity and life, that Draco very nearly turned and walked away. He felt guilty enough about this already, and even though guilt apparently wasn’t enough to drive away his erection it should really have been enough for him to just walk away right now.

“Draco! What are you doing?”

Of course the man was the fucking Chosen One and that meant he could feel someone watching him whilst he slept. Obviously. That was the only explanation as to why he’d woken up right now, just as Draco had decided he was going to leave.

They both blinked at each other stupidly as Potter reached for his wand and lit the lamps in the room, then Draco registered the fact that Potter had actually called him Draco, just as Potter glanced down at his crotch and noticed the tent there.

“For fuck’s sake, Malfoy.”

“Look I’m sorry all right. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just seeing if you were awake. I’ll just go.” Merlin, he was babbling and his cheeks were almost certainly bright red and all he could do was turn and walk away right now because he was so damn embarrassed and what the hell had he been thinking?

“No wait!”

The arm that caught him around the waist and dragged him backwards pulled him completely off balance because he didn’t have his arms to steady himself and he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed with Potter shifting around behind him. Merlin, at what point whilst he was stumbling backwards had Potter actually managed to get his pants down without him noticing?

Then there was a hand around his cock and Draco groaned and let his eyes flutter shut as Potter started teasing. Actually teasing. Again. And Merlin, wasn’t he just brilliant at it?

“Potter.” Shit his voice sounded guttural and far too husky for his own liking. “Don’t tease Potter.” He hissed through his teeth as a hand skated down his chest and tweaked at a nipple. Merlin, how long had it been since someone had touched his nipples? He spent half his life with them far too sore from doing this to himself or from having someone bite them, but they hadn’t even been touched for weeks and Draco vowed silently that even when this was over he was going to leave them alone more often because it felt even better when they weren’t sore to start with.

Potter tweaked again and the noise Draco made he hadn’t even known he was capable of. He didn’t even know how to describe it, but he made it again as Potter moved across to the other nipple and rubbed a thumb over the end of his cock causing it to twitch under his hand.

“Merlin, Potter,” he breathed, jerking his hips forwards and nearly falling off the bed in the process. There was a husky laugh behind him which Draco would have sworn couldn’t possibly have come from Potter’s throat if he hadn’t been the only person in the room, and then an arm wound around his waist and pulled him securely back onto the bed where his arse ended up resting snugly against a very obvious erection.

There was a gasp and Potter moved back slightly. He obviously hadn’t intended to do that and Draco didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed to find that Potter hadn’t been trying to hump his arse. At this point he hadn’t had sex in long enough that he couldn’t bring himself to care that it was Potter, at least not whilst Potter’s hand was expertly working over his cock the way it was.

“Harder, Potter.” He’d had enough of teasing and he was relieved when it seemed Potter had too because the man immediately increased his ministrations so they were just how Draco liked them. He certainly was a quick learner, Draco at least had to give him credit for that. “Fuck.”

“Malfoy, you’re doing it again.”

“What? Fuck, Potter, don’t stop!” He had no clue what Potter was talking about. He didn’t even care what Potter was talking about. He just needed that hand back on his cock as soon as possible.

There was some shifting around behind him and then Potter’s forehead seemed to be resting on his shoulder. He would have asked why, but Potter’s hand was back and he found that he really didn’t care what Potter did with the rest of his body so long as that hand stayed where it was.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He wasn’t sure if the words were coming from him, or whether actually they were Potter, or whether by this point they were both swearing. All he knew was that he was racing towards his climax and that when it hit it ripped a cry from his throat that was so loud he could swear he tasted blood.

“Fuck!” His cock pulsed and throbbed in Potter’s hand and his entire body convulsed over and over until he felt completely and utterly spent. Then there was a muffled noise from his shoulder and something hit his back and he realised Potter was coming too and that sent another shudder of pleasure through his body when he felt there couldn’t possibly be anymore.

“Shit.” That was Potter. He’d managed not to collapse this time it seemed, which Draco was glad for because it meant that when he started to slide forwards and off the bed, Potter’s arm was wrapped around him tightly enough that he was able to pull him back before he spelled both of them clean.

“Think you might actually sleep now?” Potter’s voice still sounded husky Draco realised. He let out a breath and nodded slowly, climbing to his feet and immediately heading for the door. It was only he reached the door to his room that he realised Potter was following him. He turned, frowned and was about to ask why when he realised that not only did Potter have his abandoned pyjama bottoms in his hand, but also that he wouldn’t actually be able to get into bed without Potter’s help.

“Merlin, I hate this shit,” he muttered and went to lie on the bed. He was thankful when Potter just chose to abandon the pyjamas on the floor and pulled the covers up around him instead. Draco felt oddly vulnerable in that moment and he forced himself to turn his back to Potter, even though the horrible and irrational urge to just collapse sobbing into his arms seemed to have taken over every facet of his mind.

He could never give in to something like that so he kept his back firmly turned as Potter sighed and padded out, shutting the door behind him. It was only then that Draco allowed himself to cry until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 4: Dreams

2015-01-10T00:14:58Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Please note the warning! If you don't like smut, don't read. This isn't very romantic, although in later chapters it gets a bit fluffier.

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 4: Dreams

Two days later Draco realised that he’d been wrong. He really wasn’t going to work something out. He’d tried unsuccessfully to hump the mattress again when he’d woken up, but had quickly come to the conclusion that whilst it felt nice it was never going to get him off. He was too used to rough sex and his own hand for something like that to bring him to orgasm, especially when he had absolutely no leverage with his useless arms. No, he was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.

He was getting sick of imagining Millicent naked, but at least it had worked for now. It was going to stop working pretty soon though if Potter carried on the way he was going.

“Potter please don’t do that.”

“What?” Potter was looking at him in surprise, which was no surprise at all to Draco because the man was only doing what he always did, which was kneel in front of him whilst he help him step into his boxers.

Unfortunately having those green eyes look at him from that position was only making things worse. Draco could feel his cock rapidly hardening and his cheeks reddening and he really wasn’t sure at this point which was worse.

Actually he was. It was definitely his cock. Potter was looking at it with pursed lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Seriously?”

“Potter I’ve had nothing for three weeks. One hand job two days ago is not going to make the problem go away. Not when you’re kneeling in front of me like that.”

“I didn’t know you found me that attractive.” Merlin, since when did Potter get so confident and so teasing? Draco would have expected him to go all red and mumbly at his words, but instead he was shooting him a flirty grin and making Draco’s problem ten times worse.

“Like I said, it’s not you Potter.” It was hard to talk through gritted teeth, but Draco was trying it anyway in the hope that it might help the problem go away. “I’m sexually frustrated. Anyone would turn me on right now.”

There was a derisive snort from below. “Good job you aren’t staying with Ron then.”

Well, that image had certainly helped his problem, at least a little. “Maybe not Weasley,” he conceded, just because the idea was so horrifying it needed an outright denial.

“So I see.” Why did Potter feel the need to examine his cock so thoroughly? Anyone would think he’d never seen one before and the look on his face was undoing the good work Weasley had just done. “Oh for fuck’s sake Malfoy!”

His hand was on Draco’s cock again before Draco could object and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, determined to pretend that it was someone else doing this. Someone who wasn’t Potter. His strokes were firm but gentle, not at all what Draco, who liked it fast and rough if he wasn’t being teased, would normally have gone for, but he was determined that he was not going to give the man instructions because any words uttered now beyond the occasional “fuck,” might indicate that he was enjoying this more than he really should. He was letting Potter do this because he needed it to be done, not because he wanted Potter to do it. Nothing he said or did was going to suggest otherwise.

He came eventually and if he was honest it wasn’t quite as satisfying as the last time, but it was enough for his legs to give way and for him to be forced to stumble sideways enough that he fell onto the edge of the bed and slipped boneless to the floor whilst Harry watched, helpless to steady him because he seemed to have caught most of Draco’s come in his hands.

“Ok,” he said, extracting his wand carefully and casting a cleaning charm, “Now can I get you dressed.”

“Fine Potter, I didn’t ask you to do that,” Draco spat, scrambling to his feet with the aid of the bed to support him, “I’ve told you I’ll work something out.”

“Well until then we’re both stuck with this as a solution so I suggest you get used to it.”

The words were no comfort to Draco, who waited in stony silence until Potter had finished dressing him and left the room.

*********************

By the end of another week Draco had been forced to let Potter ‘help’ him out twice more and unlike Kreacher’s assistance, which he still hadn’t quite got used to, he was getting used to this. It was odd, since it was a lot more intimate, but perhaps it was the oddly clinical way Potter seemed to approach the whole thing, as if it were no more unusual than helping him put a shirt on, that at least made it more bearable.

It also helped that getting some relief had lowered his libido back to a more manageable levels and that in turn had made it much easier to fall back into the routine of exchanging casual insults with Potter when they went through their daily ritual of dressing and research in each other’s company. The less horny he was the less inclined he was to see Potter as attractive, although now he’d had the thought it was rather like an annoying fly in the back of his consciousness that just wouldn’t go away. The best he could do was keep it trapped under a glass and hope that it died from lack of food sooner rather than later.

“I should give you another bath.”

Potter was looking at him speculatively from his chair on the other side of the library. This time Draco didn’t flinch away from the words, but merely met his eyes and felt enough in control of himself to say calmly, “If you want.”

“I’m not sure want would be the right word Malfoy,” Potter said briskly, with one eyebrow raised, “But it’s probably a good idea. I’m not sure being constantly cleaned by magic alone is healthy.”

Draco resisted the urge to point out that there was absolutely nothing wrong with using cleaning charms indefinitely, because he really did want that bath and he didn’t want to put Potter off the idea. He was certain he had his body enough under control now that there would be no more embarrassing incidents.

There weren’t.

He scolded Potter for getting the shampoo in his eyes, and despite the fact that the man had once again stripped off his shirt, completely ignoring Draco’s suggestion that he could just use magic to dry his clothes if they got wet, Draco felt he kept himself under control very well. Considering it had been three days since he’d last let Potter touch him down there he felt rather proud of himself.

Unfortunately control only lasted whilst he was conscious and that night he dreamt. It was the man with green eyes again and this time Blaise wasn’t there. The man was perfect – everything Draco had ever wanted. Passionate and sensual and teasing him in just the right way until Draco thought he couldn’t take anymore. That was when the man wrapped his lips around his cock and looked at him with those liquid green eyes and started sucking hard enough to make lights dance before his eyes.

It was hot and wet and fucking amazing and… Draco woke up.

“FUCK!”

His back arched and his feet scrabbled against the covers because he was so hard and so desperate and if he’d had the use of his hands he’d have grabbed himself and probably brought himself off within seconds. Instead all he could do was swear frantically under his breath and writhe in a way that only caused painfully pleasurable friction of cloth against over sensitised skin that would bring no relief at all.

“What the hell's going on Malfoy?”

Potter. Of course he’d woken up at Draco’s initial shout. He was an Auror. There was no way he was going to sleep through something like that. The gas lamps in the room flared at a quick spell from Potter and Draco knew his problem was obvious and he didn’t even care right now.

“Fuck Potter just… fuck.” He managed to kick the covers down so that the tent in his trousers was more obvious and he saw a look of comprehension dawn on Potter’s face as he looked down at it.

“Bloody hell Malfoy, what were you dreaming about?”

“Fuck Potter, don’t ask stupid questions!”

To Potter’s eternal credit that did shut him up and to Draco’s relief he actually scrambled onto the bed, settled himself so he was straddling Draco’s thighs and eased his pants over his painfully throbbing erection.

“Fuck!” Somewhere in the back of his brain Draco knew he was acting like a mindless idiot but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If Potter didn’t get his hands on his cock right now he thought he might actually lose it. He arched desperately, using Potter’s weight as leverage and wondered vaguely what the man was even doing in that position in the first place.

Thankfully Potter got the idea and wrapped his fingers around the base starting that stroke he always used, the one that eventually brought Draco to a less than satisfying orgasm, but which he hadn’t bothered to tell him to change because he’d been coping. Coping. He really couldn’t cope with this right now.

“Fuck Potter harder!” he demanded, almost whimpering with relief as he felt the hand on his cock speed up a little. He had closed his eyes, simply because his sub conscious couldn’t bear to watch Potter whilst he begged him to do something that he’d really rather not have Potter doing at all.

“Harder Potter!” His voice sounded harsh and rough even to his ears, but right now he didn’t care. “Faster. Come on Potter.” Oh Merlin, since when was Potter a bloody expert at this? There had been an odd moment where Draco was sure Harry had grunted and he’d definitely felt him shift position and then suddenly the hand on his cock was everything Draco wanted it to be and more.

“Fuck yes, like that. Fuck. Yes!” Potter had twisted his hand just so and Draco came harder than he’d ever done in his entire life, swearing stupidly and arching his back so far he was pretty sure he’d actually damaged his muscles and when he came down from the high, panting and gasping and not even particularly sure what his bloody name was right now Potter was leaning over him, arms either side of his chest, breathing hard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked it like that?” he almost gasped, “No one likes it like that.”

Well that was an interesting statement. Interesting enough to let Draco put his thoughts back in order at any rate. If no one liked it like that how had he got so good at it? He raised an eyebrow and Potter suddenly looked embarrassed, as if he’d given away something that was supposed to be secret. He sat back and reached for his wand, giving Draco a view of something that confirmed his suspicion.

“Do you like it like that?” he asked as Potter muttered the cleaning spell.

“Um...”

Draco shot a very obvious glance at the bulge in Potter’s pyjama bottoms and the man coloured visibly.

“I’m gay Malfoy,” he said, as if this explained everything, “I’m not going to apologise for the fact that watching an attractive man writhe beneath me turns me on a bit, even when that man is a stuck up git.”

Draco ignored the insult in favour of raising his other eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. I do like it like that.” Potter rolled his eyes and climbed off his legs and Draco thought about asking him why he’d been there in the first place when usually the only part of his body touching Draco’s was his hand, but he was feeling smug enough about the other revelations to let it slide for now.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely not morning. Go back to sleep Malfoy.”

It was only slightly embarrassing that when he lay back down Potter had to tuck the covers back over him before he left the room.

*******************

When he next woke up the light coming through the curtains told him it was definitely morning and the naked feeling around his legs reminded him that he hadn’t actually pulled his pants back up after his little problem in the night. It seemed he’d kicked them off completely in his sleep as well because when he managed to swing himself round and sit up on the edge of the bed he was completely naked and sporting a very large erection.

He groaned quietly to himself and was just trying to conjure up a mental image of Pansy naked – because surely that would be enough after a mind blowing orgasm in the middle of the night, when the door opened and Potter walked in.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he spat, despite the fact that he was already well aware that Potter never knocked.

“Fucking hell Malfoy.” Potter’s eyebrows had got lost somewhere under his mop of hair and Draco decided that merely raising his eyebrows back as if nothing unusual was going on was probably the best way to deal with the situation.

“How often do you wank?”

“What!?” Draco spluttered indignantly, because who the hell asked a question like that of anyone, let alone someone that they didn’t even like.

“I asked how often you wanked.“ The little git didn’t even seem to realise his question was entirely inappropriate judging by the serene look on his face. “You know I read somewhere that the average man wanks two and a half times a week.”

“What?” That had caught Draco’s attention in spite of himself. “How the hell do you have half a wank?” Potter just shrugged, but Draco thought he might as well press the point since he was the one who’d quoted the stupid statistic in the first place. “And who the hell would be having half a wank anyway? What do they do get themselves half way off on Friday and then finish off on Monday?”

“It’s not literal Malfoy.” Yep, he was rolling his eyes again when Draco checked. “They aren’t really having half a wank, it’s just an average.”

“You’d have thought they’d have rounded it to something sensible. Like three. I could believe an average of three.”

“So you wank three times a week do you?” Potter looked triumphant, which made it rather a joy to let him down.

“I wank more than three times a week Potter. Come on. Who wanks that little?” He really wished he could fold his arms right now, but as always they were hanging uselessly by his side and he was forced instead to settle for raising his eyebrows and enjoying the blush that spread across Potter’s cheeks. “Are you telling me you only wank three times a week?”

“No I wank more than that too.” Unlike him Potter could actually fold his arms, “And this is a stupid conversation Malfoy.”

“You brought it up,” Draco grumbled and shifted his legs, “And talking about it really isn’t helping my problem you know.”

“I could help with that.” There was a gleam in Potter’s eyes that Draco wasn’t sure he entirely liked, but when the other man pushed him back onto the bed, and crawled over him and actually hauled him along the mattress so he was lying on it properly there wasn’t a whole lot Draco could do about it without the use of his arms. If he’d had the use of his arms he definitely would have pushed him off. Definitely. As it was he couldn’t really protest because his mouth had gone dry and he wasn’t going to do anything so undignified as try to talk when it would only result in a coughing fit.

Besides Potter had already settled on top of his thighs again and his hand was already wrapped around the head of his cock and his thumb was already spreading the pre-come there over the tip and it would really be a shame to stop him now.

Draco caught one glimpse of Potter’s wicked grin, decided he was enjoying this a bit too much and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. He really was not going to watch Potter’s expressions whilst he gave him a hand job.

“Fuck Potter.” It seemed the man knew how to tease as well as how to give a proper wank when he was in the right mood. His hand stroked lightly up and down, fingers tracing over the thick vein until he reached his balls. He knew what he was doing with those too, tugging lightly, massaging gently, moving back to his cock and rubbing his thumb around the head until Draco knew he was canting his hips upwards, trying to encourage Potter to do more, but damn it the man was an expert tease and he kept on going until Draco was all but writhing beneath him before he caved in and brought Draco off in a few quick, practised strokes that had Draco swearing in surprise at the suddenness of his orgasm.

It took him a while to come down and when he did finally open his eyes he closed them again quickly, not at all liking the self-satisfied expression on Potter’s face.

“Everyday,” he said finally, when he thought he trusted his voice to work and he’d managed to work some of the tightness out of his throat.

“What?” The confusion in Potter’s voice made him open his eyes. Had the man forgotten his question already?

“You asked how often I wank. Everyday, unless I happen to have had sex, which was actually quite often if you really must know.”

“Oh.” Potter looked surprised for a moment, though he quickly schooled his expression into one of neutral thoughtfulness in a gesture that Draco had to admit was impressive. He hadn’t realised Potter had gained such control over himself since school.

“So if I do this everyday you probably aren’t going to wake me up in the middle of the night again? I do need my sleep you know. Some of us still have to work.”

Draco felt his temper flare and didn’t bother to check it. “Well I’m terribly sorry Potter. Some of us aren’t staying at home through choice you know.”

At least Potter did look slightly guilty about that. He mumbled something that might have been sorry, but then again might not.

“And again if you really must know the answer is I don’t know. I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like that in the night before, but then like I said usually I have more sex than this. Who knows? You can try it if you want.”

“It’s not a case of want Malfoy. Do you think I like doing this to you?” Potter was frowning now and Draco matched him with a glare of his own.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who just suggested you do it everyday.”

“I need sleep Malfoy! Don’t start reading anything into it.” At least Potter had spelled him clean, which meant that he could sit up as soon as the other man got off his legs and pretend that Potter hadn’t just given him two amazing orgasms in the space of a few hours. Anyone could have done it, he told himself. Anyone. The fact that no one, not even Blaise had ever made them quite that good, was probably just down to the fact that he usually had sex more often.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 3: Assistance

2015-01-08T19:33:23Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: So this is chapter 3, in which Harry learns the real problem of not being able to use your hands. Smut starts here, you have been warned!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 3: Assistance

It had become routine now after nearly two more weeks. Potter would dress him in the morning then leave for work and Draco would throw himself into research, aided by Kreacher. Potter would come home, Draco would retire to his room until after dinner and then eventually make an appearance in the library where he would sometimes research and sometimes exchange summaries of what they had each read with Potter. Their exchanges were short and business like, and if not exactly friendly at least not hostile. Then Harry would help him change into his pyjamas and Draco would go to bed. The one evening Potter had gone out to visit his friends had been more tortuous than Draco liked to admit. If even Potter’s company was better than his own he really thought he must have hit a new low in his life.

At least he was here tonight though and they were sitting in the library again with the fire going and Draco supposedly reading a book but actually feeling rather drowsy. He hadn’t requested for Kreacher to turn the page in at least five minutes.

“Do you want me to give you a bath?”

Draco jerked his head up at Potter’s words, all trace of drowsiness gone as he blinked at him stupidly.

“What?”

“A bath,” he repeated, as if this might be the part that Draco hadn’t understood, “You know, to wash you.”

“I know what a bath is Potter,” he snapped, more out of embarrassment than anything, “Are you telling me I appear to be unclean?”

Potter huffed at that, but at least had the grace to look contrite. “You’re perfectly clean Malfoy, but I’m aware Kreacher is cleaning you with magic. I just thought you might actually prefer to wash with water for a change. I’ve seen you naked already, it’s not like it’s a big deal is it?”

It was, Draco thought, but if Potter didn’t think so then it would make him look rather a fool if he made it into one. It was that thought more than the desire for a bath that made him nod and agree. That was how he found himself upstairs five minutes later being expertly stripped by Potter and helped into a steaming tub of water.

“I’ll let you relax for a bit and then come wash your hair,” Potter informed him, retreating from the room before Draco could object. He snapped his mouth shut and lay back in the water, closing his eyes in relief. Potter was right, it was nice to feel water on his skin again, he already felt cleaner than any number of cleaning charms could make him. The only problem was that with no feeling in his arms they were tending to float on top of the water. He clenched the muscles in his shoulders to push them down a little, thankful that he had at least that much control and then let his eyes drift closed.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he awoke to find himself slipping down under the water with no way to prevent it. The bath was big and square, so big that his legs didn’t reach the other side to steady himself. He yelped just before his head went under the water and flailed around ineffectually for a few panicked moments trying to push himself to the surface. Only when he calmed down did he manage to twist and wedge his knee and shoulder against the bottom, using them to push himself upwards. His head broke the surface and he took a huge gasping breath.

“Shit!” Water was pouring down his face and with no way to wipe it away he was forced to keep his eyes firmly closed as his hair dripped into them.

“Are you ok?” He hadn’t heard Potter come in, but then it was difficult to hear anything above his own ragged breathing. A hand slicked his hair back, and another swiped the water from his face and he prised one eye open to look at Potter who was actually gazing at him in concern.

Draco would have replied, something scathing seemed to be in order, but Potter had inexplicably turned up with no shirt on and for some reason the sight of Potter’s body, lean and muscular, seemed to rob him of the power of speech. Damn it, it really had been too long since he’d had sex if he was even finding Potter attractive.

In the end all he did was grunt and allow Potter to move him back into a sitting position. He tucked his knees up to his chest and tried not to think about why Potter was half naked.

“Maybe I shouldn’t leave you in the bath unsupervised in future.” Potter sounded amused and Draco risked a sideways glance at him, hoping that the look let Potter know exactly how unamused he was at being as helpless as a child. It seemed it worked because a moment later Potter started washing his hair and Draco was forced to close his eyes.

Merlin that felt amazing. Draco had never had his hair washed by anyone before – at least not since he was a very small child, and he hadn’t realised quite how wonderful it could feel to have someone massaging your scalp and running their hands over your hair and pouring warm water over your head. He hadn’t expected the trickles of pleasure that poured down his spine, or the heat that had nothing to do with the hot water that pooled in his stomach and made his body react in ways he definitely didn’t want it reacting to Potter.

Shit.

This was definitely an emergency. He groaned and summoned Millicent to mind, shifting his legs slightly to try and hide his little problem from Potter. The hands on his head, now busily applying conditioner went still and Draco was forced to open his eyes because not knowing why Potter had stopped was worse than knowing.

The raised eyebrow and bemused grin told Draco that he hadn’t quite managed to hide his problem as effectively at he’d hoped. He fell back on the only thing that could save him now and went straight for sarcasm.

“Don’t flatter yourself Potter,” he scoffed, “I haven’t had sex for nearly three weeks, at this point I’d probably get hard if Kreacher washed my hair.”

The hair washing resumed, which at least meant Potter wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. “Please don’t put that image in my head Malfoy. That’s not something I want to think about.”

Draco couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out, which seemed to surprise Potter, though Draco was just more relieved that said image had actually got rid of a lot of his problem.

“Why are you half naked Potter?” He just had to ask, even if he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“I didn’t want to get my shirt wet.” Merlin, there was a teasing note to that voice. Draco really should have been better prepared for what came next. “Why? Do you like what you see?”

“Merlin Potter,” He had to squeeze his eyes shut at that because his problem was rapidly coming back. “You know I’m gay and you’re half naked and admittedly easier on the eye than I expected. Like I said it’s been nearly three weeks. I can’t even wank. At this point my brain has no control over what my body does.”

The hair washing had stopped again. Draco risked a curious look, only to find Potter staring blankly at the wall with his hands dangling in the water as if he’d forgotten why they were there.

“I didn’t think of that,” he said dully.

“What?”

“Not being able to wank. Merlin Malfoy, three weeks? Now I really do feel sorry for you.”

“Can we please stop discussing masturbation?” He was really trying to think of Millicent naked now. The problem was she kept turning into Potter who inexplicably had exactly the sort of body that Draco liked in his partners. Lean and hard with just that hint of muscular strength and those bright green eyes were quite beautiful now he came to think about it, and he really needed to stop thinking about it.

“Right sorry.” Potter went back to washing his hair and by the time he’d finished Draco had managed to wrestle his thoughts back under control enough that his problem had gone away again.

*******************

It was inevitable Draco thought that after that he was going to wake up with a problem even more embarrassing than a morning erection. The problem with orgasms in his sleep was just that. He was asleep. He couldn’t even remember what the damn dream had been about. There was nothing enjoyable about it, just a horrible wet patch on the bed and on his pyjamas.

He scrambled up and managed to get his pyjama pants down. He’d worked out how to do this by now using one foot and his toes to yank them down. When he got them off he yelled for Kreacher.

“Yes Master Draco.”

Merlin, he wished the thing wouldn’t bow to him quite so ostentatiously. Potter had told him it was because he was of the Black bloodline, but in his current state Draco just found it embarrassing.

“Clean the bed Kreacher, and these pyjamas,” he said wearily, biting his tongue so as not to actually blurt out an insult. He stalked out the door to the bathroom, not caring that he was naked because at this point Potter had seen him naked more times than Draco really cared to count. It was easy enough to piss by himself when he was naked as well, so long as he did it sitting down, and when he made his way back to the bedroom Potter was already there waiting to dress him.

Today was one of the mornings when they went through the routine in relative silence and for once Draco was glad for it. He was even more relived when it was over, because now just the feel of Potter’s hands brushing against his skin seemed to be making his whole body tingle. It wasn’t because it was Potter, he knew that, it was just because he was sexually frustrated and this was the nearest thing to anything he’d had in nearly three weeks.

Merlin, if Potter was doing this to him, he dreaded to think what someone he was actually attracted to would do.

********************

Four more days. No more wet dreams, but no relief either. Draco thought he was very probably going mad. Even Millicent wasn’t really working anymore.

Especially not this morning. This morning he’d woken up from a dream so erotic that even Draco was surprised at himself. He’d been having a threesome – something he’d never done and actually never particularly wanted to do. This one had been with Blaise and an unidentifiable man who unfortunately had eyes very much like Potters and their attention had all been on him. It was just a shame he’d woken up before either of them had made him come.

Draco groaned and pulled his knees up to his chest. There was no way he could get up. His cock was leaking and so hard it actually hurt. He rolled over and whimpered as his cock was trapped between the mattress and his body. There was something in that he though and tried to circle his hips to get enough friction make himself come. It didn’t work. Without the use of his arms all he succeeded in doing was making himself even more desperate.

Shit.

He rolled back over. This was getting fucking ridiculous. No, he thought bitterly, he wasn’t fucking anything. That was the problem.

“Draco, are you up?”

“Shit!”

Potter had just walked in without knocking, which wasn’t unusual for the morning since he was hardly going to catch Draco naked, but Draco thought that this was probably more embarrassing. His rolling around had made the covers come off and now he was lying on his back with a very obvious tent in his pants. Potter’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline and Draco groaned, rolling over onto his side so that his back was to the other man in the hope that he would go away.

“You really need to do something about that Draco.”

Brilliant. He wasn’t going away. He was going to offer stupid, uncalled for advice.

“What exactly do you propose I do about it?” he said, letting all the bitterness he felt about this entire fucked up situation come through in his voice.

“Well obviously, you’re going to have to let me help.”

“What?!” Draco yelped and tried to sit up, but unfortunately with his arms just flapping rather uselessly against his body there was absolutely nothing he could do when Potter rolled him onto his back and carefully eased his trousers down past his aching cock.

“Potter you can’t do this!” he said frantically, his feet scrambling uselessly against the bed, especially now that his trousers were caught around his knees. If he could free them enough, he could probably kick Potter, who was now examining his cock with an evaluative gaze that for some reason was only making Draco harder.

Actually he didn’t think it was possible for him to be any harder than he was now.

“Don’t you dare touch me Potter!” he yelped as the other man reached a tentative hand towards him. It did at least make him pause, though his hand fluttered to rest on Draco’s hip and Draco wasn’t entirely sure if that made it worse or better because he wanted, needed someone to touch him there right now and Potter was the only person available, but he was Potter and the idea of Potter touching him there just didn’t bear thinking about.

“Look Malfoy.” It seemed to be a favourite phrase of his. Draco tried to look anywhere except those suddenly penetrating green eyes. “You cannot go on like this for another two months. I’m the only one here and I’ve already seen you naked. It’s really not a problem for me. You know I’m gay, I have done this to other blokes before you know.”

“I know you’re gay. Everyone knows you’re gay Potter.” He wasn’t sure why he’d latched on to that thought, but the front page of the Prophet when Potter had finally come out as gay over a year ago suddenly swam before his eyes. His cock twitched in response to the image, though for the life of him Draco didn’t know why.

Potter had obviously seen it to because with a movement so quick Draco didn’t have time to object he’d suddenly wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and started moving.

Merlin it felt incredible.

“Fuck Potter! Fuck!” He’d intended to object, but the words seemed to have got lost on the way to his mouth and his back was arching and heat was pooling rapidly in his groin and stars were already exploding in front of his eyes.

“Fuck!” White hot pleasure seared through his body as his cock practically exploded, covering his chest and stomach in streams of creamy fluid as his back arched further and his vision darkened and for a moment he was convinced he was going to pass out, especially because Potter’s hand was still moving and his orgasm was still going and fuck he hadn’t felt anything this good in a long time.

Eventually Potter stopped and the darkness retreated and Draco found himself lying on the bed slick with sweat with come dripping down the sides of his body.

“Better?” Potter seemed almost amused by the spectacle and Draco could already feel the blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Yes,” he managed to gasp, simply because to lie at this point would have been utterly ridiculous. The man had just given him a hand job for Merlin’s sake. Admitting he felt better for it was pretty low on the list of humiliating things that could happen right now.

“Good.”

Draco only realised Potter had actually reached for his wand and was casting cleaning charms when he felt the mess disappear from his chest. He nodded his thanks and managed to struggle into a sitting position as Potter tucked his wand away.

“You know I’m going to have to do that again at some point don’t you?”

Fuck, Draco hadn’t actually thought of that. His cheeks burned hotter. “Shut up Potter, or I might actually think you enjoyed it.”

Merlin the way Potter tilted his head in that rather flirty manner was really not helping Draco’s sanity. “It wasn’t exactly unpleasant for me you know,” he drawled, “It’s not exactly a chore to give a decent looking bloke a hand job.”

“Are you saying you find me attractive Potter?” Merlin, his cock was actually twitching in interest again at that idea. He really was sex starved if flirting with Potter could get him going.

“Malfoy you don’t need me making your ego any bigger. You’re a smug little prat who knows he’s the most attractive bloke in the office. Don’t flatter yourself too much, the way you preen sometimes makes me sick.”

Well at least the insults had stopped his cock being interested, though Draco felt a little curl of disappointment in his stomach that he really couldn’t account for.

“Well I’m sorry you’ve had to wank a man who make you so nauseated,” he said dryly, swinging his legs out of bed, “Please don’t feel you need to do it again, I’m sure I can work something out.”

Potter only sighed at that and helped him to dress in silence. Draco was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the slightly guilty look on the git’s face, though of course it might just have been his usual stupid expression.

What Can I Do? - Chapter 2: Research

2015-01-07T12:29:39Z

Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Ok so I said in my last post that this didn't have much plot, I guess the first couple of chapters contain quite a bit, it's after that it gets a bit lost. I'm writing the end at the moment though and more plot has reared its ugly head. Maybe not PWP after all!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Research

Operating door handles was tricky when you hadn’t got the use of your arms or hands, but Draco had instructed Kreacher in the making of a device that meant he could now open the door to his own room and to the bathroom with his foot. He discovered now, when he went downstairs for the first time in a week that Kreacher had gone one step further and put the devices on every door in the house. At least every door downstairs anyway. Draco wondered vaguely what Potter thought of that and whether it had been his idea in the first place or whether he’d just given permission.

He found Potter reading in the library, his head bend over a book, one hand in his hair as if he’d pushed it back from his eyes and then got distracted and never bothered to finish the gesture. Even from the doorway Draco could see the slight frown that marred his features, especially since Harry had long ago got rid of the glasses that had hidden his eyes back when they were at school. Draco was one of the few people who hadn’t been surprised the first day Potter had turned up at the office without them. Glasses and Auror work did not go well together, he only wondered why it had taken the git so long to realise that.

Since Potter obviously hadn’t heard him come in Draco stepped forward and cleared his throat to attract his attention. He’d come to say something and he needed to say it as soon as possible before his courage completely failed him. It didn’t help when Potter dropped the book and practically leapt out of his chair at the sight of him.

“Malfoy!” he exclaimed, as if he’d actually forgotten that Draco was living in the house, “Is everything ok?”

“No Potter. I need you to undress me.”

Oh shit. He really hadn’t meant it to sound like that. That was not the carefully rehearsed speech he’d had in his head. Why the hell had the sight of Potter taken all his words away? How did the git always manage to make him look stupid just by being there? His only consolation was that Potter looked equally stupid, standing there gawping like a fish.

“What I mean is,” Draco said carefully, trying to make sure his next words didn’t make the situation worse, “Kreacher is all very well but I really can’t tell you how awful it is being dressed and undressed by a house-elf. It’s so… so…” He wasn’t going to say demeaning. Somehow saying that out loud in front of Potter would make it worse. “Well, his hands are cold, and they feel weird, and it’s just not very nice.” It was a lame ending, but it was the best he could come up with right now. At least Potter had stopped gawping, though his expression, midway between amusement and disbelief wasn’t much of an improvement.

“So let me get this straight Malfoy,” he said slowly, “You want me to dress you because my house-elf’s hands irritate your sensitive skin?” The expression was definitely more amusement now Draco decided and he stuck his nose in the air, trying his best to maintain a sense of dignity. He’d lost too much to give up what little was left.

“I didn’t say that Potter. Have you ever been dressed by a house-elf? Have you even looked at their hands? Of course if it’s too much trouble don’t bother.”

He certainly wasn’t going to wait for a reply to that. Malfoys did not hang around hopefully at the mercy of other people. Malfoys always took control of the situation. It was one of the few of his parent’s lessons that had actually been worth keeping hold of after the War.

“Wait Malfoy.” Potter was actually coming after him as he made his way down the hall to the stairs. He stopped and turned, one eyebrow raised, trying desperately to give the impression that he was stopping as a favour to Potter, not because he was hopeful that he wouldn’t have to face another night of Kreacher flapping around him, fussing and bowing and apologising for the inconvenience whilst he was semi-naked.

“I’ll help you get undressed ok?” Potter was giving him a look now that Draco had sometimes seen him use when he was trying to bargain with a suspect. “But if there’s any more whining than strictly necessary you can forget it. Deal?”

Draco regarded him sniffily for a moment, wondering what he meant by ‘more than strictly necessary’. Draco didn’t whine. Not much anyway. He could certainly stop if it meant not having to suffer from a house-elf undressing again.

In the end he nodded and resumed his journey upstairs with Potter following.

**************

“Ouch Potter! Can’t you be more careful? I value those particular parts of my anatomy quite highly you know.”

Potter snorted derisively, which Draco had to admit was better than Kreacher’s reaction to his complaints which was to bow and scrape and apologise until Draco was completely sick of hearing it.

“And do you have to kneel in front of me whilst you do that? It’s a bit…”

Another snort. Harry stopped undoing the front of his trousers and looked up at his face, which Draco thought was probably only making his cheeks flush more. Why the hell had he even brought that up?

“Where do you suggest I kneel? Behind you?”

“I don’t need you looking at my arse Potter.” Draco thought he’d rallied quite well, even if his cheeks were still a bit hot. “I know it’s delightful but it isn’t for your eyes.”

“Too late, I already walked up the stairs behind you and I have to tell you you’ve got a skinny arse.”

Draco spluttered ineffectually as Potter resumed working at the fastenings on his trousers.

“I do not have a skinny arse!” he managed to get out eventually as Potter slid down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Undressing you.” Potter actually looked confused at that, but Draco hadn’t missed the speculative look that he’d given a very specific area of his body as it had come into view. Not that Draco was embarrassed. He had no idea what Potter was keeping in his pants, but Draco knew he certainly wasn’t lacking in that area and had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Whatever Potter, I saw you looking.” He moved towards the bed and sat himself down on the edge, raising his legs in the air so that Potter could fully remove his pants. “Like what you see?”

“Shut up Malfoy.” If Potter grabbed his pants and yanked them off a little harder than necessary it was well worth it to see the stain of red creeping over his cheeks. Draco let him put his pyjama bottoms on in silence, refused the offer of the pyjama top and then induced a look of relief on Potter’s face by saying that he was fine with Kreacher helping him with the rest of his before bed routine.

“Thanks Potter,” he called, as the other man opened the door to leave. He froze with his hand on the handle and turned slowly, his jaws hanging open slightly as he looked at Draco.

“What was that?” Really Potter looked incredibly stupid, because even after he’d spoken he continued to look as if his jaw was going to hit the floor any moment.

“I said thank you Potter, is something wrong with your hearing?”

“No, it’s just…” Potter shook his head and seemed to rally, “You’re welcome Malfoy.”

He left, leaving Draco to grin smugly as the door closed behind him. Yes, he had been right. Having Potter dress him was definitely better than having Kreacher do it.

**************

The very worse thing about not being able to use his arms was that it meant spending the first few minutes of the day desperately thinking the unsexiest thoughts he possibly could in order to get rid of the problem he was waking up with every morning.

Actually that wasn’t the worst thing. The very worst thing was the lack of sex. Draco really really liked sex. He had it a lot, mostly with any bloke that was half decent who would have him, although he and Blaise had a very convenient little arrangement that meant he got it regularly even when he couldn’t find anyone else. Every other night was usually his absolute minimum. A week without sex was horrible. Draco was beginning to suspect three months without it would probably kill him.

It was also getting harder to get rid of his morning problem and as he shifted awkwardly under the blankets Draco realised he really shouldn’t have thought of the word harder given the circumstances.

He groaned and tried to imagine Pansy naked, which pretty much always usually worked. When that didn’t there was always Millicent naked to fall back on, though since that particular image also made him slightly nauseous he tried not to use it except in an emergency. Luckily Pansy was enough this morning and when he felt more in control he rolled out of bed and summoned Kreacher to the bathroom.

After the first disastrous shower the house-elf had taken to cleaning him by magic, which didn’t exactly give him the refreshed feel of a shower, but was a lot less awkward. He let the elf brush his hair and clean his teeth before he traipsed back to the bedroom and asked Kreacher to get Potter.

To his credit Potter did actually respond to the summons and appeared a few minutes later. He dressed him without fuss and today Draco found that he was more interested in following Potter’s quick, graceful movements than he was in teasing him. It was fairly astonishing to realise that Potter did everything the way he played Quidditch, quickly and gracefully and with an odd sort of intensity.

He only realised he was lost in thought when Potter cleared his throat and Draco blinked to find Harry staring up at him from where he was kneeling on the floor.

“This kneeling in front of me is really becoming a habit Potter,” he drawled to hide his embarrassment at effectively being caught staring at Potter, even if his mind had been elsewhere.

“Sit down Malfoy, I need to put your socks on.”

Potter didn’t look anywhere near as graceful when he was scowling Draco realised and he sat down with a slight huff of frustration that Potter hadn’t risen to his bait this time. What had happened to the embarrassed flush from last night?

He let Potter put his socks on, refused the shoes, since he wasn’t planning to go outside and then thanked Potter again as he went out the room. At least this time Potter didn’t attempt to catch flies with his face, he simply raised an eyebrow and nodded in acknowledgement before he left. An improvement Draco thought, though what it was an improvement on he didn’t really know.

**************

He ate the breakfast Kreacher fed to him without complaining, feeling a little better about the fact that the house-elf wasn’t doing everything for him now. Why he felt better about Potter doing something for him he couldn’t really explain, because Potter was actually the last person he’d have wanted to do anything for him a few weeks ago. His only explanation, which at least sounded plausible in his head, was that Potter made a change and since he was helping only reluctantly Draco didn’t feel quite so guilty about being rude to him.

After breakfast, and after making sure Potter had left for work, Draco did actually venture downstairs and explore the rest of the house. He settled eventually in what seemed to be the sitting room with a book. At least he sat down and Kreacher carefully held the book at the right height for reading and dutifully turned the page whenever Draco instructed him to. It wasn’t ideal and when he had to leave to make lunch, and then later dinner, Draco realised just how boring it had been to sit in his room for a week doing nothing except thinking his own rather morbid thoughts. This at least was a step up from that, though Draco didn’t really think it would keep him entertained for a whole three months. He was going to have to find something else at some point.

He made sure he had gone back to his room before Potter got home from work and left him alone until after dinner. He hadn’t really intended to speak to him until it was time for him to get undressed, but a week of isolation had made him realise just how much he valued company. He’d always thought he was happy on his own, he’d never been one for getting close to people and usually the company of his colleagues in the Auror office, such as it was, was enough. Now though he had realised that whilst it was enough it was also necessary. He did need people and right now the only person available was Potter.

“What are you doing?”

He’d located Potter in the library again, his head buried in yet another book so that when Draco had spoken he had very nearly thrown the book across the room in shock.

“Looking for a cure,” he said, when he’d recovered.

“For what?” Draco sat himself down primly in a chair just across from where Potter was sitting and looked at the titles of the books he had piled on the table next to him.

“For you.”

Well that was surprising. Draco hissed a breath through his teeth and frowned in confusion.

“Why?” That just got him a shrug, so he pressed on with, “I thought you agreed with the Healer that there was no cure. You made me leave her alone.”

“You were upset Malfoy, I wasn’t going to let you start yelling at the poor woman. She was doing her best.” Merlin, was Potter actually rolling his eyes at him? “I went back to check anyway and ask the questions you would have asked if you hadn’t been so upset. There isn’t a known cure, but that doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.” Draco wasn’t sure what to say to that. Why on earth was Potter bothering to research a cure for someone he didn’t even like?

“Don’t flatter yourself Malfoy. I quite liked having my house to myself you know.”

“Oh.” Of course that was it. Potter wanted him out of the way. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “I suppose I should help.”

“If you want.”

Why wouldn’t he want? This was the most hopeful he’d felt in a week. Why hadn’t he thought of trying to find a cure earlier? That would have been the sensible thing to do. Now he was indebted to Potter for yet another thing.

He only realised he was frowning when Potter cleared his throat. “These are the books I’ve found so far that might be useful.” He waved a hand at the pile next to him and waited for Draco’s nod of acknowledgement before he turned back to his own book. Draco summoned Kreacher and began the process of trying to research whilst giving instructions to a house-elf about exactly when to turn the page and which chapters to show him. Only the newfound hope that he held prevented him from losing his patience entirely.

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Final Notes: Comments will be much loved. I haven't written anything in a while so I'm open to suggestions for improvements (or you could just tell me you love it :P)