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Title: Love Me Right
Author:
sdk
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: ~3K
Content/Warning(s): Hand Jobs, Rimming, Anal sex, background Scorpius/Lily Luna
Summary/Prompt: P39 - They're far too old to be mucking about with secret relationships, but neither of them feel like dealing with their families reactions, and frankly, the sneaking around is kind of hot.
A/N: Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, L! This fic is far better because of her insightful notes and input. This strayed a bit from the original prompt and went a little differently than I'd first intended. I hope you enjoy it!
Read at AO3 or below:
Harry closes his eyes and enjoys the delicious smooth slide of Draco's hand around his cock. Draco's warm against his back; Harry can feel him hardening against his buttocks as he slowly, gently rocks his hips in time with the stroke of his fist. Harry's hands are still damp from washing them and they slip along the edge of the sink. The loo upstairs is tight, both of them barely fitting between the vanity and the door. It isn't an ideal condition, but they really shouldn't be doing this here in the first place.
"You're taking too long," Draco complains against his neck. His breath sends shivers down Harry's spine, all the way to his cock.
"You know I take awhile, especially from this."
"I'm not getting on my knees. This floor is too hard."
"Hey--I didn't ask."
"They'll notice if we're gone too long."
"Who followed whom into the bathroom?"
Draco twists his wrist at the end of his stroke making Harry's breath hitch. "You know I can't resist you in those jeans."
"These old trousers?" Harry teases. He does know. He wore them for this very reason. Wore them because he knew he'd see Draco today and it's been too long. He thought maybe they could sneak away later--after dinner--maybe to the shed in the back garden. Though it likely wouldn't have been any more comfortable than right here, and filled with Arthur's Muggle trinkets to trip over.
But considering Arthur barely makes it through Sunday dinner now without dropping off into a snooze, and no one else is interested in that dusty old shed…well, at least they likely wouldn't have been caught. Here, in only one of three toilets with all the kids gathered at the Burrow--it's just a matter of time.
Draco speeds up his strokes and Harry falls into his rhythm, pumping his hips. Warm arousal courses through him. He'll never tire of Draco touching him. He knows they need to be quick, but he just feels so damn good.
"Fine. Cast a cushioning charm, and I'll suck you off."
"There isn't room," Harry breathes. He braces himself against the counter and pushes back into Draco's hard cock.
"If you sit on the toilet, I can squeeze in."
"You want it that bad?"
"Oh, sod off."
The truth is, as much as Harry loves Draco's mouth, he doesn't want to stop, even with Draco whining and complaining into the crook of his neck. He loves the feel of Draco draped over him, chest pressed to his back, the slide of his cock against his buttocks. If anything, he'd love to shove down his jeans and his pants and feel Draco hard, right up against his cheeks, just sliding through the crevice, smearing pre-come into his skin.
But he also loves Draco's tight strokes, the stretch of his pants over Draco's knuckles. He looks down and sees them, four little bumps stretching the front of the green boxer briefs. The head of his cock peeks up over the elastic. Pre-come dribbles out of the slit and Draco smears it with his thumb. Harry groans. His stomach tightens. If he was 18, he'd already be coming--twice over maybe. But at his age, it takes longer. There are perks to that, he's learned, as pleasure radiates out through his body with each stroke. There are benefits to making it last.
"Merlin, I wish you were inside me," Harry breathes. He feels Draco pulse against him, hard and hot, and Harry hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his loosened jeans and starts to shove them down right then and there, when--
"Dad? Are you in here?"
Draco freezes. Harry feels Draco's heartbeat against his back thumping faster.
"Shit," Draco mutters under his breath; thankfully the sound is muffled into Harry's neck.
"Lily? I'll be out in a minute--do you need the loo?"
"No, Dad, Gram's brought out the pudding, and…Scorpius and I--well, just come down all right?"
Harry tenses; Draco's grip of Harry's hip tightens painfully and Harry slaps his hand until he lets go, swallowing back a painful yelp.
"I'll be right there," he manages instead.
"And if you see Mr Malfoy, tell him to come back to the table too?"
"All right."
Harry and Draco both stay still until the sound of her footsteps fades away. Harry breathes out a long sigh. Draco carefully unwraps his hand from Harry's rapidly deflating cock. He's quiet--too quiet.
"Draco?"
"I'll Disapparate to the garden," he mutters.
"Can we--later?" Harry turns in Draco arms in time to see conflict in his eyes, but before Harry can work out what it means, he just nods and in a blink of an eye, he's gone.
Harry straightens himself up, missing the warmth at his back. He makes it down the stairs in time to see Draco coming in from the back garden. Harry gives him a small smile, but Draco either doesn't see or pretends not to as he passes by and heads to the kitchen. Harry sighs and follows… and the first thing he sees is the glittering diamond ring on his daughter's finger.
"Surprise!" she says. Scorpius slides an arm around her waist and squeezes her. "We're getting married!"
~
Harry's wards chime at half past eleven. He's surprised--Draco didn't talk to him at all over dessert at the Burrow, barely even looked at him, and in between the myriad of congratulations to the happy couple (even Arthur woke up for a toast before dropping back into a snooze at the head of the table), Draco must have slipped away--gone home. Without even a goodbye.
But here he is, rain-soaked, on Harry's front stoop.
"Can I come in?" he asks after Harry stares at him awhile, blinking.
"Yeah--Al's here, just--"
"Should I go, then?"
"No--No. He's asleep in his old room."
"Problems with Sally? She wasn't at the Burrow." Draco passes by him at the door, his fingers trailing a path along Harry's hip as he goes. "Can you dry me off?" Draco Vanishes the raindrops he's left on Harry's floors, but he waits patiently for Harry to draw his wand and spell him dry. Harry adds a Warming charm for good measure and Draco closes his eyes for a moment, lets out a shallow breath. "Thanks."
"You know Al. He doesn't tell me much. Do you want a drink?"
"No," Draco says. He turns and heads straight to Harry's bedroom.
He knows the way.
Harry follows Draco into the room and shuts the door. The wards flash briefly, locking a privacy spell in place, a special feature Harry added once Draco started coming 'round more often. There's usually someone else here--Al, most recently, but James and Lily…even Teddy, sometimes drop by unannounced and end up crashing in their old rooms. Harry loves it, of course. His family means everything to him. But sometimes he needs privacy. Like tonight.
"We should probably talk."
"No," Draco says again. He turns and pushes Harry against the door. He slides his hands into Harry's hair, scrunches it up into messy fists and angles his head until their lips meet. "No talking," he whispers.
They kiss. Draco's tongue slides into Harry's mouth, and a thrumming starts in Harry's blood, coursing with renewed desire not met earlier. Harry grasps Draco's waist, pulls his shirt out of his trousers and slides beneath it, palms meeting smooth, warm skin. Harry slides his hands everywhere, over his back, his shoulder blades, down his spine, to the small of his back. Draco groans into his mouth, his cock stiffening, pressing against Harry's thigh.
"What do you want?" Harry says, voice rough. Draco pulls away just enough that Harry can see the piercing grey of his eyes. He kisses Harry again, softer, once, twice. He mouths down Harry's jaw, kisses up to his ear and breathes, "Didn't you say you wanted me inside you?"
Harry tries to say "Yes"-- his whole body hums with it--but what comes out is a wordless groan instead. Draco backs away and starts undoing his shirt buttons revealing his pale chest, barely-there wisps of dark blond hair around his pink nipples, the slight roundness of his abdomen. Harry reaches out to touch the newly revealed skin but Draco gently but firmly slaps his hand away.
"Strip," he says. "And get on the bed. On your stomach, Potter."
Harry shivers with the name. Draco hardly ever calls him that--not since they started fucking--and something about it always lights a fire inside his belly, always makes his blood run faster, his skin heat up. Draco unbuckles his belt and Harry watches him slide it free from the loops in one smooth motion. He raises an eyebrow and Harry quickly strips off his t-shirt and shoves down his trousers. His pants are next--he pushes those down slower and watches Draco lick his lower lip when his cock bobs free.
Draco drops his own trousers, then cocks his head over to the bed as Harry's just standing there, waiting for Draco to free himself of the rest of his clothes. But he isn't going to get the pleasure of seeing Draco nude this time. He goes to the bed, crawls on top and lies flat on his stomach, as requested--commanded. He hears, rather than sees, Draco remove his pants and kick them free.
He feels the bed dip. Two hands come to his knees, slide up his thighs and rest just below his buttocks. Draco pushes his legs open, just a hair more, then his hands slide up over Harry's hips, along the sides of his torso and round up over his shoulders.
"Salazar," Draco breathes into Harry's neck. His lips drag across Harry's skin, kissing down between his shoulder blades, hands raking along Harry's sides. Harry buries his head into the pillows, gripping the sheet in two fists as he feels Draco hard against him. Harry cants his hips as Draco drags his cock along the cleft of his ass, teasing him with a long gentle stroke, but he lifts up and Harry groans into the pillow.
"You bloody tease."
Draco laughs--almost snorts--at this, but his lips are back, warm and wet against Harry's back. Harry feels Draco slide down; he grabs Harry's butt cheeks and squeezes, thumbs sliding along his curves, prying him open. Harry feels hot breath against him, the tickle of Draco's nose against his cleft, and then Draco darts his tongue out and licks along Harry's rim, setting all of his nerves on fire. He pushes his hips up, but Draco smacks his ass, then holds him down with a bruising grip. And then he's licking Harry open, tongue fluttering around the rim, licking inside. Harry rocks as much as he can within Draco's grip, dragging his cock against the sheets; his whole body feels flush and hot, all of his senses focused on where Draco's tongue delves inside him.
A whine bubbles up in Harry's throat as Draco withdraws, scraping his teeth along the edge of one cheek on his way. He dips down, curls his tongue briefly around Harry's balls, and then all Harry can feel is his hands, squeezing, massaging, holding him open. He urges Harry up to his knees with another squeeze, then leans over, hands sliding up the planes of Harry's back.
"Is this all right, Harry?" His voice is barely above a whisper. His cock rests between Harry's cheeks. Harry feels him throb; he throbs along with him.
Gooseflesh runs up and down Harry's arms as he braces himself. He nods, manages a raspy, "Yes… Draco, please--"
He expects a pithy retort; he expects to be teased for begging, for Draco to elicit more before he'll move. But instead he feels Draco shudder as Draco rests his forehead between Harry's shoulders. The blunt tip of his cock pushes between Harry's cheeks, and slowly--so slowly it nearly makes Harry cry--Draco pushes inside.
Inch by inch, Draco slides in; inch by inch, Harry opens for him, stretches around him, pulls him inside. When he's fully seated, he stills, and Harry feels Draco's heartbeat inside him, against him, all around him. He shifts his weight and reaches back, grasping whatever of Draco he can reach--his hip, slipping down his thigh. Draco wraps an arm around Harry's chest and his palm comes to rest over Harry's heart.
Draco lets out a trembling breath. "Harry," he says so faintly that Harry's not sure if it's just his imagination or if it's real. It only lasts a moment, one bare moment of stillness, then Draco rears up, grips Harry's hips, rocks out until Harry's nearly empty, then pumps back in a rush. Harry drops his hand and holds on as best as he can as Draco starts to thrust, over and over. He sinks to his forearms--Draco's grip on his hips so tight he'll have bruises in the morning, but it feels so good, he doesn't want to stop--he'd beg Draco not to stop. His cock throbs, dribbling with pre-come, a pleading, needy mess. Draco wraps an arm around Harry's body and fists his cock.
"Fuck, Potter," Draco groans raggedly. "You're so fucking--bloody fuck--" Draco babbles incoherently. His balls slap against Harry's arse. Harry flexes his thighs--heat flashes over them and suddenly his orgasm tears through him, and he spills himself over Draco's fingers and onto the bed below.
He pushes back into Draco for as long as he can, but soon he's just hanging onto the bedding, every thrust sending aftershocks throughout his body. Draco slams inside once more and jerks perfectly still. Harry uses the rest of his lagging energy to squeeze as tightly as he can, then with a gasp, and another, Draco comes inside him, throbbing and shuddering, falling down over Harry with one last groan.
Harry lands in the wet spot, but he doesn't much mind--he's barely aware of it, barely aware of anything besides Draco's slowing heartbeat, the warmth of his body…his softening cock slowly slipping out.
After a while--Harry's not sure how long--Draco rolls over and sinks down into the bed beside him. Harry closes his eyes--his body feels limber, relaxed--younger than it has in ages. Laughter bubbles up inside him. He catches a frown from Draco out of the corner of his eye.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing--" Harry says. His laughter fades, but he can't stop smiling. "That was just--" Fantastic. Bloody brilliant. The best it's ever… But Draco's frowning deeper and the words die on Harry's lips. "Wasn't it? For you?"
"It was the last time," Draco says quietly.
"What?" His once languid muscles tense with a jolt of panic. Harry rolls to his side and watches Draco swallow hard as he stares at the ceiling. "What do you mean, the last time?"
"You were at dinner, were you not? Our kids are getting married--" He wrinkles his nose as he looks over at Harry. "You're a mess."
"What are you talking about?"
"You've got drying come all over you--" Draco summons his wand and swishes Harry clean. The sharp prickle of his Scorgify barely registers.
"No--the last time. What does that mean?"
"Scorpius and Lily," Draco says, as if that's supposed to explain everything.
"Yes--they've been together this whole time, yeah?"
"It's different now. Or do you want to make them brother and sister?" Draco snorts.
"Who said I was gonna marry you?" The joke falls flat--he can see the pain of it in Draco's face before he even finishes the words. Draco sits up and Harry quickly leverages himself up on an arm after him. "Sorry--sorry! I didn't mean to make light, it's just--"
"It's just what, Potter?"
This time, that name stings rather than thrills, and Harry's taken aback by it. But Harry's known Draco for forty years now; he can see his hurt behind the mask. "We both know this isn't just…messing about. Sneaking around. Having a bit of fun. Right?"
"It isn't?" Draco's eyes slant; Harry reaches over and grabs his hand, heartened by the fact that he doesn't pull away.
"It started that way, but it's not for me. Not anymore." Harry lets out a breath, finally voicing these feelings he's been too scared to name, to really pay attention to. "Not for a long time."
Draco's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. His eyes flicker downward to his lap, but after a breath, he raises his gaze. "One good shag and you're in love, is that it?"
"Hey, it was more than good."
Draco cracks a smile. His eyes sparkle and warmth blooms in Harry's chest. "It was bloody brilliant."
"Yeah. All of it."
"I suppose we have to tell them," Draco says. "No more sneaking around."
"All right," Harry agrees. He can't help the tiny bit of fear at Draco's words. This is going to change. Everything. But as he looks into Draco's eyes, he realizes it's worth it. "We'll figure it out. Together."
"Together," Draco echoes. He squeezes Harry's hand and starts to slide free, but in the blink of an eye, he's leaning in and he presses a quick, firm kiss to Harry's lips. Harry smiles against his mouth, reaches up to touch Draco's cheek and pulls him in for another. Draco groans softly and pulls away. He swings his legs off the bed and bends down, grabbing at the tangle of his clothes.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks.
"Dressing? I've never liked Apparating starkers, you know that."
"You're going?"
"Shouldn't I? Al's here."
Harry shrugs. He feels lighter than air. "We can start with him. Call it a dry run before we tell the rest of the family. Besides, I make a mean fry-up in the mornings." Harry tugs at Draco's arm and Draco flops back into the bed, smiling. Harry leans over him. "You've never stuck around for that."
Draco reaches up and fingers Harry's fringe before smoothing his thumb along the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "You Gryffindors don't waste time, do you?"
"Not when we figure out what we want…no."
Draco's smile goes soft. It looks good on him, Harry thinks.
"I can live with that," he says.
"Good," Harry murmurs. He snuggles back down into bed and Draco curls into him. It's been a long time since he's shared his bed, but well…he can live with that too.
Author:
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Word Count: ~3K
Content/Warning(s): Hand Jobs, Rimming, Anal sex, background Scorpius/Lily Luna
Summary/Prompt: P39 - They're far too old to be mucking about with secret relationships, but neither of them feel like dealing with their families reactions, and frankly, the sneaking around is kind of hot.
A/N: Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, L! This fic is far better because of her insightful notes and input. This strayed a bit from the original prompt and went a little differently than I'd first intended. I hope you enjoy it!
Read at AO3 or below:
Harry closes his eyes and enjoys the delicious smooth slide of Draco's hand around his cock. Draco's warm against his back; Harry can feel him hardening against his buttocks as he slowly, gently rocks his hips in time with the stroke of his fist. Harry's hands are still damp from washing them and they slip along the edge of the sink. The loo upstairs is tight, both of them barely fitting between the vanity and the door. It isn't an ideal condition, but they really shouldn't be doing this here in the first place.
"You're taking too long," Draco complains against his neck. His breath sends shivers down Harry's spine, all the way to his cock.
"You know I take awhile, especially from this."
"I'm not getting on my knees. This floor is too hard."
"Hey--I didn't ask."
"They'll notice if we're gone too long."
"Who followed whom into the bathroom?"
Draco twists his wrist at the end of his stroke making Harry's breath hitch. "You know I can't resist you in those jeans."
"These old trousers?" Harry teases. He does know. He wore them for this very reason. Wore them because he knew he'd see Draco today and it's been too long. He thought maybe they could sneak away later--after dinner--maybe to the shed in the back garden. Though it likely wouldn't have been any more comfortable than right here, and filled with Arthur's Muggle trinkets to trip over.
But considering Arthur barely makes it through Sunday dinner now without dropping off into a snooze, and no one else is interested in that dusty old shed…well, at least they likely wouldn't have been caught. Here, in only one of three toilets with all the kids gathered at the Burrow--it's just a matter of time.
Draco speeds up his strokes and Harry falls into his rhythm, pumping his hips. Warm arousal courses through him. He'll never tire of Draco touching him. He knows they need to be quick, but he just feels so damn good.
"Fine. Cast a cushioning charm, and I'll suck you off."
"There isn't room," Harry breathes. He braces himself against the counter and pushes back into Draco's hard cock.
"If you sit on the toilet, I can squeeze in."
"You want it that bad?"
"Oh, sod off."
The truth is, as much as Harry loves Draco's mouth, he doesn't want to stop, even with Draco whining and complaining into the crook of his neck. He loves the feel of Draco draped over him, chest pressed to his back, the slide of his cock against his buttocks. If anything, he'd love to shove down his jeans and his pants and feel Draco hard, right up against his cheeks, just sliding through the crevice, smearing pre-come into his skin.
But he also loves Draco's tight strokes, the stretch of his pants over Draco's knuckles. He looks down and sees them, four little bumps stretching the front of the green boxer briefs. The head of his cock peeks up over the elastic. Pre-come dribbles out of the slit and Draco smears it with his thumb. Harry groans. His stomach tightens. If he was 18, he'd already be coming--twice over maybe. But at his age, it takes longer. There are perks to that, he's learned, as pleasure radiates out through his body with each stroke. There are benefits to making it last.
"Merlin, I wish you were inside me," Harry breathes. He feels Draco pulse against him, hard and hot, and Harry hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his loosened jeans and starts to shove them down right then and there, when--
"Dad? Are you in here?"
Draco freezes. Harry feels Draco's heartbeat against his back thumping faster.
"Shit," Draco mutters under his breath; thankfully the sound is muffled into Harry's neck.
"Lily? I'll be out in a minute--do you need the loo?"
"No, Dad, Gram's brought out the pudding, and…Scorpius and I--well, just come down all right?"
Harry tenses; Draco's grip of Harry's hip tightens painfully and Harry slaps his hand until he lets go, swallowing back a painful yelp.
"I'll be right there," he manages instead.
"And if you see Mr Malfoy, tell him to come back to the table too?"
"All right."
Harry and Draco both stay still until the sound of her footsteps fades away. Harry breathes out a long sigh. Draco carefully unwraps his hand from Harry's rapidly deflating cock. He's quiet--too quiet.
"Draco?"
"I'll Disapparate to the garden," he mutters.
"Can we--later?" Harry turns in Draco arms in time to see conflict in his eyes, but before Harry can work out what it means, he just nods and in a blink of an eye, he's gone.
Harry straightens himself up, missing the warmth at his back. He makes it down the stairs in time to see Draco coming in from the back garden. Harry gives him a small smile, but Draco either doesn't see or pretends not to as he passes by and heads to the kitchen. Harry sighs and follows… and the first thing he sees is the glittering diamond ring on his daughter's finger.
"Surprise!" she says. Scorpius slides an arm around her waist and squeezes her. "We're getting married!"
~
Harry's wards chime at half past eleven. He's surprised--Draco didn't talk to him at all over dessert at the Burrow, barely even looked at him, and in between the myriad of congratulations to the happy couple (even Arthur woke up for a toast before dropping back into a snooze at the head of the table), Draco must have slipped away--gone home. Without even a goodbye.
But here he is, rain-soaked, on Harry's front stoop.
"Can I come in?" he asks after Harry stares at him awhile, blinking.
"Yeah--Al's here, just--"
"Should I go, then?"
"No--No. He's asleep in his old room."
"Problems with Sally? She wasn't at the Burrow." Draco passes by him at the door, his fingers trailing a path along Harry's hip as he goes. "Can you dry me off?" Draco Vanishes the raindrops he's left on Harry's floors, but he waits patiently for Harry to draw his wand and spell him dry. Harry adds a Warming charm for good measure and Draco closes his eyes for a moment, lets out a shallow breath. "Thanks."
"You know Al. He doesn't tell me much. Do you want a drink?"
"No," Draco says. He turns and heads straight to Harry's bedroom.
He knows the way.
Harry follows Draco into the room and shuts the door. The wards flash briefly, locking a privacy spell in place, a special feature Harry added once Draco started coming 'round more often. There's usually someone else here--Al, most recently, but James and Lily…even Teddy, sometimes drop by unannounced and end up crashing in their old rooms. Harry loves it, of course. His family means everything to him. But sometimes he needs privacy. Like tonight.
"We should probably talk."
"No," Draco says again. He turns and pushes Harry against the door. He slides his hands into Harry's hair, scrunches it up into messy fists and angles his head until their lips meet. "No talking," he whispers.
They kiss. Draco's tongue slides into Harry's mouth, and a thrumming starts in Harry's blood, coursing with renewed desire not met earlier. Harry grasps Draco's waist, pulls his shirt out of his trousers and slides beneath it, palms meeting smooth, warm skin. Harry slides his hands everywhere, over his back, his shoulder blades, down his spine, to the small of his back. Draco groans into his mouth, his cock stiffening, pressing against Harry's thigh.
"What do you want?" Harry says, voice rough. Draco pulls away just enough that Harry can see the piercing grey of his eyes. He kisses Harry again, softer, once, twice. He mouths down Harry's jaw, kisses up to his ear and breathes, "Didn't you say you wanted me inside you?"
Harry tries to say "Yes"-- his whole body hums with it--but what comes out is a wordless groan instead. Draco backs away and starts undoing his shirt buttons revealing his pale chest, barely-there wisps of dark blond hair around his pink nipples, the slight roundness of his abdomen. Harry reaches out to touch the newly revealed skin but Draco gently but firmly slaps his hand away.
"Strip," he says. "And get on the bed. On your stomach, Potter."
Harry shivers with the name. Draco hardly ever calls him that--not since they started fucking--and something about it always lights a fire inside his belly, always makes his blood run faster, his skin heat up. Draco unbuckles his belt and Harry watches him slide it free from the loops in one smooth motion. He raises an eyebrow and Harry quickly strips off his t-shirt and shoves down his trousers. His pants are next--he pushes those down slower and watches Draco lick his lower lip when his cock bobs free.
Draco drops his own trousers, then cocks his head over to the bed as Harry's just standing there, waiting for Draco to free himself of the rest of his clothes. But he isn't going to get the pleasure of seeing Draco nude this time. He goes to the bed, crawls on top and lies flat on his stomach, as requested--commanded. He hears, rather than sees, Draco remove his pants and kick them free.
He feels the bed dip. Two hands come to his knees, slide up his thighs and rest just below his buttocks. Draco pushes his legs open, just a hair more, then his hands slide up over Harry's hips, along the sides of his torso and round up over his shoulders.
"Salazar," Draco breathes into Harry's neck. His lips drag across Harry's skin, kissing down between his shoulder blades, hands raking along Harry's sides. Harry buries his head into the pillows, gripping the sheet in two fists as he feels Draco hard against him. Harry cants his hips as Draco drags his cock along the cleft of his ass, teasing him with a long gentle stroke, but he lifts up and Harry groans into the pillow.
"You bloody tease."
Draco laughs--almost snorts--at this, but his lips are back, warm and wet against Harry's back. Harry feels Draco slide down; he grabs Harry's butt cheeks and squeezes, thumbs sliding along his curves, prying him open. Harry feels hot breath against him, the tickle of Draco's nose against his cleft, and then Draco darts his tongue out and licks along Harry's rim, setting all of his nerves on fire. He pushes his hips up, but Draco smacks his ass, then holds him down with a bruising grip. And then he's licking Harry open, tongue fluttering around the rim, licking inside. Harry rocks as much as he can within Draco's grip, dragging his cock against the sheets; his whole body feels flush and hot, all of his senses focused on where Draco's tongue delves inside him.
A whine bubbles up in Harry's throat as Draco withdraws, scraping his teeth along the edge of one cheek on his way. He dips down, curls his tongue briefly around Harry's balls, and then all Harry can feel is his hands, squeezing, massaging, holding him open. He urges Harry up to his knees with another squeeze, then leans over, hands sliding up the planes of Harry's back.
"Is this all right, Harry?" His voice is barely above a whisper. His cock rests between Harry's cheeks. Harry feels him throb; he throbs along with him.
Gooseflesh runs up and down Harry's arms as he braces himself. He nods, manages a raspy, "Yes… Draco, please--"
He expects a pithy retort; he expects to be teased for begging, for Draco to elicit more before he'll move. But instead he feels Draco shudder as Draco rests his forehead between Harry's shoulders. The blunt tip of his cock pushes between Harry's cheeks, and slowly--so slowly it nearly makes Harry cry--Draco pushes inside.
Inch by inch, Draco slides in; inch by inch, Harry opens for him, stretches around him, pulls him inside. When he's fully seated, he stills, and Harry feels Draco's heartbeat inside him, against him, all around him. He shifts his weight and reaches back, grasping whatever of Draco he can reach--his hip, slipping down his thigh. Draco wraps an arm around Harry's chest and his palm comes to rest over Harry's heart.
Draco lets out a trembling breath. "Harry," he says so faintly that Harry's not sure if it's just his imagination or if it's real. It only lasts a moment, one bare moment of stillness, then Draco rears up, grips Harry's hips, rocks out until Harry's nearly empty, then pumps back in a rush. Harry drops his hand and holds on as best as he can as Draco starts to thrust, over and over. He sinks to his forearms--Draco's grip on his hips so tight he'll have bruises in the morning, but it feels so good, he doesn't want to stop--he'd beg Draco not to stop. His cock throbs, dribbling with pre-come, a pleading, needy mess. Draco wraps an arm around Harry's body and fists his cock.
"Fuck, Potter," Draco groans raggedly. "You're so fucking--bloody fuck--" Draco babbles incoherently. His balls slap against Harry's arse. Harry flexes his thighs--heat flashes over them and suddenly his orgasm tears through him, and he spills himself over Draco's fingers and onto the bed below.
He pushes back into Draco for as long as he can, but soon he's just hanging onto the bedding, every thrust sending aftershocks throughout his body. Draco slams inside once more and jerks perfectly still. Harry uses the rest of his lagging energy to squeeze as tightly as he can, then with a gasp, and another, Draco comes inside him, throbbing and shuddering, falling down over Harry with one last groan.
Harry lands in the wet spot, but he doesn't much mind--he's barely aware of it, barely aware of anything besides Draco's slowing heartbeat, the warmth of his body…his softening cock slowly slipping out.
After a while--Harry's not sure how long--Draco rolls over and sinks down into the bed beside him. Harry closes his eyes--his body feels limber, relaxed--younger than it has in ages. Laughter bubbles up inside him. He catches a frown from Draco out of the corner of his eye.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing--" Harry says. His laughter fades, but he can't stop smiling. "That was just--" Fantastic. Bloody brilliant. The best it's ever… But Draco's frowning deeper and the words die on Harry's lips. "Wasn't it? For you?"
"It was the last time," Draco says quietly.
"What?" His once languid muscles tense with a jolt of panic. Harry rolls to his side and watches Draco swallow hard as he stares at the ceiling. "What do you mean, the last time?"
"You were at dinner, were you not? Our kids are getting married--" He wrinkles his nose as he looks over at Harry. "You're a mess."
"What are you talking about?"
"You've got drying come all over you--" Draco summons his wand and swishes Harry clean. The sharp prickle of his Scorgify barely registers.
"No--the last time. What does that mean?"
"Scorpius and Lily," Draco says, as if that's supposed to explain everything.
"Yes--they've been together this whole time, yeah?"
"It's different now. Or do you want to make them brother and sister?" Draco snorts.
"Who said I was gonna marry you?" The joke falls flat--he can see the pain of it in Draco's face before he even finishes the words. Draco sits up and Harry quickly leverages himself up on an arm after him. "Sorry--sorry! I didn't mean to make light, it's just--"
"It's just what, Potter?"
This time, that name stings rather than thrills, and Harry's taken aback by it. But Harry's known Draco for forty years now; he can see his hurt behind the mask. "We both know this isn't just…messing about. Sneaking around. Having a bit of fun. Right?"
"It isn't?" Draco's eyes slant; Harry reaches over and grabs his hand, heartened by the fact that he doesn't pull away.
"It started that way, but it's not for me. Not anymore." Harry lets out a breath, finally voicing these feelings he's been too scared to name, to really pay attention to. "Not for a long time."
Draco's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. His eyes flicker downward to his lap, but after a breath, he raises his gaze. "One good shag and you're in love, is that it?"
"Hey, it was more than good."
Draco cracks a smile. His eyes sparkle and warmth blooms in Harry's chest. "It was bloody brilliant."
"Yeah. All of it."
"I suppose we have to tell them," Draco says. "No more sneaking around."
"All right," Harry agrees. He can't help the tiny bit of fear at Draco's words. This is going to change. Everything. But as he looks into Draco's eyes, he realizes it's worth it. "We'll figure it out. Together."
"Together," Draco echoes. He squeezes Harry's hand and starts to slide free, but in the blink of an eye, he's leaning in and he presses a quick, firm kiss to Harry's lips. Harry smiles against his mouth, reaches up to touch Draco's cheek and pulls him in for another. Draco groans softly and pulls away. He swings his legs off the bed and bends down, grabbing at the tangle of his clothes.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks.
"Dressing? I've never liked Apparating starkers, you know that."
"You're going?"
"Shouldn't I? Al's here."
Harry shrugs. He feels lighter than air. "We can start with him. Call it a dry run before we tell the rest of the family. Besides, I make a mean fry-up in the mornings." Harry tugs at Draco's arm and Draco flops back into the bed, smiling. Harry leans over him. "You've never stuck around for that."
Draco reaches up and fingers Harry's fringe before smoothing his thumb along the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "You Gryffindors don't waste time, do you?"
"Not when we figure out what we want…no."
Draco's smile goes soft. It looks good on him, Harry thinks.
"I can live with that," he says.
"Good," Harry murmurs. He snuggles back down into bed and Draco curls into him. It's been a long time since he's shared his bed, but well…he can live with that too.
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Date: 2018-03-07 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-22 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-11 08:13 pm (UTC)Love and families are complicated, aren't they? *sigh*
At least Harry's got a good head on his shoulders, though, and wasn't about to let Draco do anything silly. Like call the relationship off. :P
After sex like that I don't blame Harry one bit, either.
GUH! So hot.
Something tells me it all works out.
Well done!
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Date: 2018-03-22 05:54 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for the lovely comment! So happy you enjoyed it, Ali! <3