Here I stand, victorious
The only man who made you come
Robbie Williams
“Ghosts”
~oO^Oo~
Many thanks to my darling lady_aubrey, who has provided me with a quick but thorough beta once again (and again, and again...), and to my friend Solvej for her support that made me get on with it, and - last but not least - to niobe87 for providing me with some very nice ideas...^^ Love ya all!
Übersetzung ist in Arbeit!^^
~ooO*o*Ooo~
“What do you mean, you’re not coming? Of course you are!”
Draco stood in the doorway, his arms folded, staring at Harry incredulously. Harry was seated on Draco’s bed, next to the blond’s packed trunk, fidgeting uneasily with a loose sock that had somehow fallen out of the trunk before Draco had managed to stuff his various possessions inside.
“I still think it would be for the best, Dray.”
Draco stared him down. “Well, I think it’s complete bollocks!”
“I have a bad feeling about the whole thing, Draco. Really.” Harry looked up for the first time since the start of their conversation and Draco was stunned to see the unfamiliar uncertainty in Harry’s usually so self-assured eyes.
He went over and dropped down next to Harry, causing the coil springs to give an outraged squeak. “What’s wrong?” he asked, examining Harry closely. “You not feeling well?”
Harry shook his head and seemed to fidget even more with Draco’s abandoned sock. “It’s not that… it’s just…”
Draco gently plucked the sock out of Harry’s nervous fingers and threw it aside in a careless manner. “What is it, love?” He leaned in and gently brushed his lips over Harry’s hair line. The boy jerked back as if he’d been burned and Draco quizzically lifted an eyebrow at that.
“You want to know what’s wrong with me?” Harry asked, rubbing his flushing cheek. “This. This… thing between us, Dray. That’s the problem.”
Draco blinked. Then blinked again. Then blinked again and said, “Come again?”
Harry sighed and got to his feet. “You know that I’m not gay,” he said, and started to pace restlessly around the room.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, I’m not discussing this with you again. Fine, so you don’t like blokes in general, but you’ve got the hots for me and that is all I care about.”
Frankly, Draco didn’t believe Harry’s repeated oaths of heterosexuality for a second. He’d seen the way Harry looked at the other boys in the shower; and, apart from making him very, very jealous, this also reassured Draco that Harry was by far not as straight as he would like to be.
Actually, Draco doubted that Harry was even aware of the way he had been checking out, say, Zabini the day before. But checked him out he had; there wasn’t even the shadow of a doubt about that. It was unconscious, Draco mused, some subliminal attraction to males that Harry still had to fully discover. And accept.
Well. Even though this was rather strange, Draco didn’t mind much. Usually, he was fully content with being the only bloke Harry consciously fancied. But at times like this, really, Draco wished Harry would just pull that stick out of his arse and finally get his head around the fact he was not fully straight. That he might even be bi-sexual. So what if he was? Draco, for instance, happened to be very proud of being gay.
But that was beside the point.
“I still don’t see why your not being gay would hinder you from coming to the manor with me over Christmas. That totally doesn’t make sense, you know.”
Harry sighed. “This is not about me being gay or not,” he said, causing Draco to look at him in bemusement.
“No? Silly me, expecting this to be the goal of a discussion started by the words ‘I’m not gay, you know.’ I shouldn’t have interpreted too much into it then, I guess.”
Harry stopped his pacing – which Draco was rather thankful for since he found the restless back and forth to be rather annoying – and took a moment to scowl at his friend. “Look, Draco, could you just forget for a moment that you are a total asshole and listen to me?”
Draco, for a brief moment, considered feeling offended. But then he merely shrugged and settled for hearing Harry out. He could still take the piss afterwards, right? “Go on,” he nodded, motioning for Harry to continue.
“Right.” Harry stood and stared and finally picked up the sock Draco had only recently tossed on the floor to fumble with it again.
Draco just sat and perked up. If he had to quit being a prick, he might as well do it properly.
“You know, I really like your parents,” Harry suddenly blurted, rather unexpectedly.
Draco nodded, not knowing where this was getting them. “Yeah. You do. And?”
Harry’s busy fingers tied a knot into the sock, then untied it again. “What I mean is, they’re just like family to me.”
Draco nodded again, confusion only growing. Harry liked his parents, he thought of them as his family – so why didn’t he want to accompany him to the Manor for Christmas? It still didn’t make any more sense to him.
Harry swallowed hard and gazed down at his hands wringing Draco’s poor sock like some wet piece of rag. “I’m just not ready for that, understand?”
Draco frowned, then shook his head. “Ready for what, Harry? You’ve been to the Manor before, actually, you sort of live there, in case you forgot!”
Harry sat down on the bed again and dropped on his back. “I know. That’s the problem.”
“How’s that the problem? For fuck’s sake, Harry, do you always have to be so bloody cryptic about everything? Just spit it out already!”
Harry popped up on his elbows and stared directly at Draco. “Fine. No more breaking it gently to you.”
Draco gulped. There was something about Harry’s voice that he didn’t like at all. It made all hair on his neck stand up in anticipation.
“I don’t want us to be like that. When we get there, I mean. Either we stop this” – he waved his hand between them, indicating that ‘this’ meant each and every bit of intimacy they had shared over the last two weeks – “altogether for the time we’re with your folks, or I’m not going there at all.”
All blood left Draco’s face and for a split second, he thought he had misheard something. Lord, he just hoped he had!
“Excuse me?” he blurted when he finally had his voice back. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”
“You heard me,” Harry said, and his eyes left no room for doubts. “I’m not ready to tell your father about this. Us.”
There was a short moment of silence. One of the most awkward moments the two boys had experienced around each other yet.
“You’re serious about this,” Draco finally said, and it was a statement rather than a question.
Harry nodded. Draco blinked and then stood up rather abruptly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower now. See you later.”
He quickly crossed the room and yanked the door open.
“Draco...” Harry called after him half-heartedly, but when Draco didn’t react to that, he fell silent.
The door opened and closed and then Draco was gone.
~ooOoo~
Harry lay on his bed and thoughtfully chewed on his bottom lip. He’d known that Draco wouldn’t take too well to this. But hell, what else could he do? He wasn’t ready to confess to Lucius Malfoy, whom he indeed regarded as some kind of foster father, that not only was he developing a rather unsettling attraction to blokes – but that in addition, of all people to be fancied, he fancied Draco. Had gotten him off several times. And had been gotten off in return. No. He really couldn’t put up with an enraged stepfather and all yet, when he didn’t even know for sure whether he was really gay at all. For all he knew, it could be just a phase. A rather confusing and distracting period of time during which he was tempted to believe he liked boys.
It had happened to other people before, right? And they’d still come out straight afterwards. There was no need to worry.
And Draco… well. Draco was special. He really was extremely handsome and Harry cared deeply for him; perhaps it was just normal that he… well, what exactly? There was no point in trying to pretend he was not feeling overprotective for the blond, that he did not get jealous when Draco laughed about other people’s jokes or complimented someone on their abs. Or their ass. Or looks in general. Whatever.
And there was even less point in denying that merely thinking about the boy’s fit, slim body had Harry all hot and bothered; not to mention what the real thing did to him. As had been spectacularly proven in that one, fateful night two weeks ago, when the mere vision of Draco’s come-face had provoked Harry to instantly come in his trousers.
God, the embarrassment of it all still hadn’t quite worn off yet. But just remembering the whole scene, Harry caught his hand lightly caressing the growing bulge in his jeans. He yanked his hand away, ashamed and angry, and slapped a pillow on his face in utter annoyance with himself.
~ooOoo~
Draco stood under the hot shower and rested his head on the cool tiles. He could not quite decipher the emotions whirling in his system, but it seemed to be some interesting blend of anger with Harry and himself, rejection, fear, love, and desperation. He just didn’t know what to make of this.
He’d always thought that everything would be alright once he got his hands on Harry. Never had he imagined it to be like this, this stirring and unsettling. Things were so simple on his side. He was gay, he’d always secretly nurtured a crush on his best friend, and now that he knew he might even have a chance with him, that crush had quickly moved on into something different, something more powerful. More love-like.
Draco groaned and backed off a little just to let his forehead fall against the tiles again with a numb thud.
It was getting so frustrating. Why, oh why did Harry have to be such a wanker? He really kept Draco on tenterhooks. First, he ambushed him with this rather unexpected outburst of feelings for him, even participated eagerly in the coupling-discussion – Hell, Draco had been the one who hadn’t believed in relationships before! – and then, come morning, Harry would have loved nothing more than to just shrug it all off, pretending it had never happened.
Draco had only just started to believe that Harry was a bloody prick and that he had just been drunk that night (like he had always feared in the first place), when Harry – completely sober this time – had crawled into bed with him and the whole scenario had repeated itself. Only this time, Draco had been the one to end up with a mouthful of sperm.
Meanwhile, the whole school seemed to enjoy the entertainment that Harry’s eternal and rather obvious struggle apparently was to them, and Draco started to feel like a giant fool for putting up with all his shit. It was as if he were some stupid little school girl, desperately clinging to a long-time crush that she could never get.
But whenever he made up his mind to tell Harry to go and fuck himself, the boy suddenly started acting all amorous, sometimes even held his hand, and all resolution fled Draco’s love-foolish mind.
It was degrading. Unfitting. Undignified. And still he couldn’t stop himself from running after Harry like some smitten puppy.
Furiously shampooing his hair, Draco swore to himself that he would put a stop to this. He was most certainly not going to spend two weeks at his parents’ house, pretending he was not in love with Harry. They were either going there as a couple and staying that way, or not going and splitting up altogether.
Anything else was not acceptable and would do neither of them any good.
When something started prickling in the corners of his eyes, Draco hastily turned on the water again and told himself that some of the conditioner had gotten into them.
~ooOoo~
Draco didn’t sleep particularly well that night. When he woke in the morning, his head hurt like a bitch and he felt strangely empty inside. Harry was already gone, probably down in the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco took his time in the bathroom; he’d overslept and had the entire bathroom to himself. He leisurely cleaned his teeth, observing his pale reflection in the mirror over the sink, thinking about how to handle the whole situation from now on. Harry never left without him in the morning; clearly he was very angry. Even though Draco hadn’t a clue why Harry would be angry. He was the one spoiling their holiday plans and making such a mess out of everything, wasn’t he?
But still, spitting into the sink and finally rinsing his mouth, Draco felt some entirely unpleasant sensation rippling in his guts. He wasn’t sure whether this was because of guilt or fear – he merely knew that it was strongly related to the thoughts about Harry.
When Draco finally made it down into the Hall too, Harry was still seated at his place at the Slytherin table. After some mental debating with himself about his choice of place, Draco decided to sit down next to the boy, pretending that nothing was wrong. Of course, the side glances Harry tossed him when feeling unobserved did nothing to ease the situation; neither did the curious whispering and stupid jokes about a lovers’ fight, that became louder by the second.
Draco stared into his bowl of cereal and tried to vanish it by sheer will-power – but to no avail. The soaked cornflakes remained awfully present, and Draco, who didn’t feel like eating in the least, stuffed them into his mouth, trying to gulp them down and get done with it. Unfortunately, his digestive system had turned into mush at the sight of Harry, and fiercely refused to get ballasted with the pulp. So the cereal remained in his mouth and macerated, until they formed a massive sort of dumpling that was impossible to be gulped down and only triggered Draco’s gag reflex. So he finally got up and got rid of the cereal-dumpling in the toilet.
When he got back to the dorm, Harry was already in there, silently unpacking his trunk. Draco’s heart clenched viciously at that sight and the feeling of a lump in his throat was back immediately, even though this time, there was nothing in his mouth.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, struggling to keep his voice steady and banish the first hints of panic plucking at his vocal cords.
Harry didn’t look at him as he carefully took one of his favourite t-shirts out of the trunk and carried it to his cupboard like it was something terribly fragile instead of some piece of clothing.
“What does it look like?” he replied in his usual, snottish voice. “I’m preparing to stay here for the holidays.”
The words broke Draco’s heart and were his undoing. A sharp, thin wire cut right through his chest and every good sense he’d had was forgotten. He could not stand the thought of Harry staying at Hogwarts all by himself, and even worse was the vision of him sitting at the Manor without Harry by his side to shield his father’s teasing. No way he could handle that.
Draco knew he shouldn’t say what he was about to say; he fucking knew it wouldn’t do to let Harry get away with everything again, to let him have things his way once more – but he couldn’t help it. He was no good at hiding what he felt, and even more so since Harry had started to play with his feelings like a guitarist of the Weird Sisters would do with the strings of his instrument.
He just wore his heart on his sleeve these days. And no biting through his tongue would ever keep the words from spilling over his lips.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not letting you stay here on your own, Harry,” he said softly and with just the tiniest little tremor to his voice. “I’ll do anything you want me to, I swear I will. Just please, come with me. Don’t make me spend Christmas without you.”
Harry cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “No shit? We’re not telling your parents anything?”
Draco shook his head, inwardly already cursing himself for his weakness all over again. But really, any other arrangement was completely out of the question, wasn’t it?
The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched. “C’mere,” he said, and opened his arms invitingly. Draco was in them before he even knew he had moved, burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, breathing in the soothing scent of Harry’s skin that he had so badly missed in the few hours their argument had lasted.
Merlin, he had it bad for that boy. A fiery wave of something pulsed from Draco’s chest right to his brain and he wanted nothing more than to tell Harry about how he felt and how badly he thought he was in love with him. He wanted to whisper the words against Harry’s wonderful neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin, and Harry would smile and kiss him and say…
But Harry didn’t say anything. He just held his arms loosely wrapped around Draco’s narrow waist, and Draco, not willing to spoil their reconciliation by saying something he would regret all too soon, bit back the words swelling in his throat and merely nuzzled the fine hair on Harry’s neck instead.
Harry gave some odd sort of grunted sigh, and it was only then Draco noticed the lump of Harry’s growing erection poking into his thigh. Draco smiled and pulled back a little, just enough so he could look at Harry. Harry’s eyes were wide with annoyed disbelief that IT was happening AGAIN and Draco might have been hurt if it hadn’t been for that glimpse of outright want shining through the resistance in Harry’s beautiful green eyes.
But there it was, and it only made Draco more eager to refresh Harry’s memory as to exactly why his body reacted to Draco’s presence in this particular way.
He didn’t take his eyes off Harry’s face while he gently rocked his hips, circled them against Harry’s groin, massaged the boy’s erection with his own. Harry breathed heavily through his nose and his hands tightened their grip on Draco’s back as he steadied his hips against the assault – perhaps even pushing back a little, albeit somewhat reluctantly – eyes half closing at the sensation.
Draco’s hands wandered down until they came to rest on Harry’s firm buttocks – as usual, clad in the most perfectly fitting pair of jeans – and slowly started kneading them. Harry made a low, moaning noise in the back of his throat that spoke of defeat and arousal, and Draco, feeling all dizzy and light-headed, guided them both back until Harry came to rest against a wall for stability, and then he started frotting against him in earnest.
“Oh fuck, Draco,” Harry growled and shoved his hips forward. “Do it properly, damn it!”
And Draco, too excited and horny to even complain about the way he was bossed around, fumbled the front of Harry’s jeans open, tugged them down and pushed his hand inside, where it immediately found the hot and silken hardness that was Harry’s cock. God, Draco just loved the feeling of it in his palm; it was one of the most perfect sensations ever. He worked his hand up and down, enjoying the way the foreskin slid over the moist head, not to mention the needy little gasps the action forced out of Harry, and it wasn’t long before he tucked his left hand into his own shorts to caress his own erection since Harry obviously was too busy enjoying being wanked to bother with Draco’s needs as well.
Thankfully, Draco was ambidextrous. He’d learned masturbating with his left hand when he was fourteen, because that had been when Goyle had had this rather unfortunate, eh, handicap because of… well, because someone had hexed him with this particularly nasty curse for plundering someone’s precious chocolate stock, causing his wank-hand to go all limp and lame whenever he was in the right mood for jerking off. Goyle hadn’t had it in him to go to Madam Pomfrey because of this and so it had been two weeks until the curse had worn off. And even though Draco had very much enjoyed the whole thing back then, he still dreaded it might some day get back to him and he figured it couldn’t hurt to be prepared.
They came almost simultaneously, and staring into Harry’s face, Draco hoped that perhaps now, in post-orgasmic haze, Harry might just say something similar to how Draco felt about him.
“Draco,” Harry breathed and Draco perked up. “I only let you do this because it will be the last time for at least two weeks, understand?”
Draco was deflated. Trust Harry to ruin anything that could’ve been at least the slightest bit romantic by being such a prick all of the time. No stereotypically whispered ‘I love you’ during or shortly after the mind-blowing cum-shot for Harry Potter, oh no. Hell, he couldn’t even admit how much he’d enjoyed it!
Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry…” He wanted to yell at him how ridiculous he was being, how much of a fool he made out of him, how stupid and annoying and childish and immature and self-deceiving his behaviour was – but then he remembered that he wanted Harry to come with him, and that insulting him would not be the best way to achieve his goal. So he held his tongue and only said, “Sure” instead.
Harry nodded and cast a cleaning charm on himself – only himself, which Draco registered with a disapproving frown – and then went back to repacking his trunk. Draco, having cleaned himself up too, dropped on his bed and watched Harry moving around the dorm. This was so sick. Trying hard to appear all cool and indifferent on the outside, Draco really wanted to cry and shout and kick something. Or someone. Preferably Harry.
Why did he have to fall for Harry Potter of all people? The Boy Who Lived To Make Things So Fucking Complicated? He was a Malfoy, he was ridiculously rich, extraordinarily handsome, remarkably witty and charming – he could have anyone! Why did it have to be Harry he wanted?
Something hit his head and he looked up, distracted from his mulling. “What?” he asked irritably and tossed the single Bertie Bott’s Bean Harry had no doubt found in one of his drawers back at the boy.
“Stop the pouting,” Harry said, moving aside to evade the bean. “I’m coming with you, aren’t I?”
“I’m not pouting,” Draco pouted and folded his arms. Honestly. Did that bloke even know what he was doing to him?
“Good. Now come here and sit on my trunk so I can get it closed.”
“Like I’m that much of a heavy weight,” Draco murmured, but got up nonetheless. Obediently, he climbed atop Harry’s bed and sat down on the trunk. “What do you have in there, anyway? Looks like you plan on leaving the country or something. We’re only staying at the Manor for about two weeks, you know.”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry said, struggling to get the lid closed. “Like you didn’t haul all of your possessions along as well.”
Draco wrinkled his nose. “Actually, I don’t. There’s only a tiny little fraction of my wardrobe in there,” he said, nodding at the enormous trunk standing at the door.
Harry snorted. “Still it’s enough to keep an entire army warm.” There was a clicking noise when the lock snapped shut and Harry straightened up to face Draco. “Honestly, you’re not telling me you’re going to need all of those clothes, are you?”
Draco sighed. “Of course not. But it’s always good to come prepared.” He stared at Harry provokingly. “But it’s not like you understand the necessity of a decent wardrobe anyway, do you? After all,” he made a significant pause, “you’re not gay.”
Harry leaned in and their faces were close, so close that Draco’s breath hitched in his throat. Was Harry going to… was he really going to kiss him? Draco gulped, and there was something in Harry’s eyes, something inexplicable, something… Then Harry brought one hand up and pushed Draco off the trunk.
“Your services as lid-sitter are no longer required,” he said, and hauled his trunk off the bed.
~ooOoo~
The trip back to the manor was an entirely unpleasant one. It had started to rain, and fat drops were messily running down the planes of the elegant black limousine (no more uncomfortable rides on the Hogwarts Express for Hogwarts’ Hero and companion!) that took them there.
Draco and Harry were seated at the backseats, both staring out at the pouring rain, listening to the sound of it pattering on the roof. They hadn’t really spoken much since they’d gotten into the car, and Draco was fine with it; he was once more lost in thoughts about how everything had gotten like this.
Harry glared at the dull reflection of his face in the pane and wondered what was wrong with him. His life had been perfect up to now, in literally every imaginable way. And then the annoying little brat next to him had had to go and blow it all. Or rather, he had somehow made Harry blow him, which again had blown everything. Harry sighed inwardly.
He could’ve lived with one gay encounter in his life, really. What he could not quite handle was the rather shocking intensity of it all. It was just that it was too good to be true. It made images pop up in his head, visions of Draco spread out on his back for him, or of Draco on all fours, good and ready to get fucked, and – worst of all – of him taking that beautiful body under him, sliding his cock home between the firm buttocks until they were both moaning in ecstasy. It made him want to say and do things he’d never even considered possible before, and that really scared the shit out of him.
When the limousine finally rolled in on the gritted driveway to the manor, Narcissa was already at the door, watching the boys get out. House-elves hurried by to help with the trunks and Draco went right over to his mother. Narcissa hugged and kissed him and told him over and over again how good he looked until Draco was getting sick of it and fled her embrace.
Narcissa, not bothered at all, didn’t hesitate for a second to turn all her attention towards Harry instead. Harry endured her affections somewhat stoically, not really knowing how to react to her motherly behaviour. Even though she’d been like this towards him almost from the start, Harry had never really gotten used to it.
When Narcissa finally let go of “her boys,” they were greeted by Lucius as well. He pulled Draco into a brief, one-armed hug, and when they backed off, he frowned. “An earring?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted questioningly. Draco shrugged unapologetically.
“Yeah. I thought it was kinda cool.”
Lucius’ frown deepened and he opened his mouth to reply – when he caught a warning glance from Narcissa. So he merely sighed dramatically. “Whatever, son, whatever.”
Harry, observing the whole scene with tight-lipped interest, wondered just what Lucius would have to say if he ever came to see what else Draco had thought was kinda cool. Luckily, the tattooed snake was covered by the boy’s grey cashmere jumper – as was the piercing, of course – but from the look on Draco’s face, Harry could tell the boy was having the same thoughts. Not that he would mind if his father should get another fit of hurt father’s pride – but well, he clearly wasn’t too keen on going through the whole thing again.
Harry shuddered inwardly, once more congratulating himself on his decision to keep IT a secret.
“All right now, boys,” Narcissa said with an unusually cheerful voice. “Go upstairs and get ready. We’re having guests today!”
Draco frowned at her. “Guests? Who?”
“The Mackenzies,” Lucius said. “You remember them, Draco?”
Draco nodded and his frown only deepened. Then he grabbed Harry’s sleeve and, muttering “I fucking don’t believe this!” dragged him inside and up the stairs.
~ooOoo~
“What’s all this about?” Harry said, once they had passed the door to Draco’s room (Harry had one of his own, of course. After all, it wasn’t like Malfoy Manor hadn’t enough spare rooms to give host to half of the Empire) and yanked his arm away. “What’s gotten your balls into a knot?”
“Don’t you understand a bloody thing?” Draco pressed through clenched teeth.
Harry, now genuinely confused, shook his head. “Actually, no I don’t. Who are the Mackenzies? And what’s so bad about them being here?”
Draco sighed. “They’re acquaintances of my parents. They’re not that bad actually – but it’s not about them, anyway. It’s about who’s probably going to be with them.”
Harry blinked. “I’m not so sure I get your point, Dray.”
Draco folded his arms. “Well. They do have a daughter. Serena Louise. Beautiful girl, long blond hair and as thick as two short planks, as far as I know. Approximately our age, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Well? I still don’t see…”
“For fuck’s sake, Harry! I told you about the codex pure-blood families follow, didn’t I? Remember, what duties every heir has to fulfil if they want to be able to receive their inheritance?”
Harry screwed up his face, trying to remember what Draco had taught him. “Uh… marry and raise successors?”
“Exactly.”
“…oh.”
Draco snorted. “Yeah, Harry. Oh. Oh is a good way to put it.”
“So you really think they want you to… hell, Dray, they know you’re gay, don’t they? How can they assume you would still agree to marry a girl?”
Draco shook his head. “Actually, Harry, I think they gave up all hope of successfully marrying me long ago.”
There was a pause. Then Harry narrowed his eyes and suspiciously said,
“What are you hinting?”
“Isn’t that obvious? It’s you, you daft prick! They want to marry her to you!”
Harry, eyes wide with disbelief, opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to his mind.
“But – I’m not even seventeen! How can I already get married to some girl I don’t even know?”
Draco snorted. “Think that’s early, do you? Remember Theo Nott? He’s been engaged since he turned fourteen. Pansy Parkinson? Engaged even before she was born!” He paused. “Don’t you notice anything?”
Harry shot him a glance. “I was busy over the last years, in case you hadn’t noticed!”
Draco merely huffed and Harry’s mind went back to the more important matters at hand. “We’re not even related! How can they even think about marrying me off?”
The blond shrugged. “What do I know? I take it they originally wanted to marry me off, but when they noticed I’d never be happy with her, they probably decided to give it a try with you.”
“So you think they’re not actually going to force one of us to get married? They’re just suggesting it?”
Again, Draco snorted. “Please, Harry! You know my parents! Think they’d ever force us to do something we’re not comfortable with? Well, knowing my father he might just try, but my mother’s like a dragon protecting her young. He’d never get through with it.”
“But the codex… You said…”
Draco waved him off dismissively. “They try to follow it as much as possible. But they’re no fiends, you know? They try their best within reason. I don’t think my mother’s marriage with my father was an imposed one, either.”
Harry relaxed visibly. “Oh, good. Then the whole thing might even be fun.”
Draco frowned. “What do you mean, fun?”
Harry shrugged. “You said she’s pretty. Let’s find out about it. Perhaps her and I can have some fun together. It’s been ages since I’ve been with a girl.”
Before Draco could even express his extreme disapproval of Harry’s words, the boy had already whirled around to check on his appearance in the XXL-mirror at the wall. “I guess I’ll get changed before we attend your parents’ guests. See you in a moment!”
With that he rushed out of the door, leaving a stunned and very displeased Draco behind.
The blond dropped flat onto his bed on his stomach and buried his face into his pillow before uttering a muffled cry of frustration. This was entirely unbelievable! Stupid, stupid, stupid parents and stupid, stupid, stupid Mackenzies! Who did they think they were, simply trying to marry their stupid, stupid, stupid daughter to his stupid, stupid, stupid Harry? He may be a stupid prat, but he was his stupid prat; it didn’t matter that Harry himself wasn’t admitting that yet, Draco knew and that’s all it took. But now, Harry would, by all means, try to impress that stupid broad – if only to keep up appearances and annoy Draco. That much could be considered certain.
Worse was, however, that Draco didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it. Of course, he could tell everyone the truth (namely, that Harry was some kind of a closet case, desperately trying to deny his attraction towards blokes) – but if he did that, Harry would never as much as look at him ever again, and Draco was not willing to put that at risk.
He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. How fucked up was that?
~ooOoo~
They walked down the stairs a couple of minutes later, Draco extraordinarily grumpy and still wearing the same clothes, Harry extraordinarily cheerful (and if it was just a mask he’d put up, Draco thought, then Harry was a damn good actor!), wearing his favourite pair of jeans and a black shirt. He looked so good that Draco thought he could feel his mouth watering. But then he remembered that Harry had only dressed up to impress Serena stupid Mackenzie, and that thought quickly stopped the production of saliva.
They entered the living room where Draco’s parents were already chatting with two elder wizards and two children, approximately their age. The young girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, looked up first and flashed them a charming smile that Harry – to Draco’s immense displeasure – returned immediately.
“Draco, Harry,” Narcissa said pleasantly. “Please meet the Mackenzies. This is their daughter Serena Louise. She’s attending school at Beauxbatons. Draco, I think you already know each other, don’t you?”
Serena nodded, not taking her eyes – that were of a warm brown – off Harry. “You must be the amazing Boy Who Lived, aren’t you? I’m so glad we meet at last!” She brought one hand up to elegantly flip her long blond locks over her shoulder.
“Eh… my pleasure,” Harry said, grinning impishly.
I’m so glad we meet at last,, Draco inwardly aped her. Stupid cunt!
“Oh, Draco,” Lucius’ words broke into his thoughts. “I don’t believe you’ve met their son Seth yet? He’s at Durmstrang in his final year.”
And he stepped aside, revealing one of the most stunning young men Draco had ever seen. The boy was tall and tanned, his hair was dirty blond and his eyes were of an impossible blue. He smiled at Draco and displayed a row of perfect white teeth.
Draco gulped and almost shyly took the hand Seth was offering him.
“Uh…nice to meet you,” he said around the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m Draco.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Seth smiled. “Draco. You’re even prettier than my mother said you were.”
At that, Draco as well as Mrs Mackenzie flushed a charming shade of pink and even Harry snatched his eyes momentarily off Serena. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy exchanged content smiles with each other and both of the Mackenzies.
And then it dawned on Draco. This wasn’t about marrying Harry to Serena. This was about marrying him to Seth!
~ooOoo~
The law about male/male marriages in the Wizarding World was a relatively new one and not very established yet. There were only a few gay couples that had made use of the law so far. Draco had known about it, of course he had, but since he hadn’t considered getting married yet (and no doubt he had counted on his parents to not take up on that possibility!), he certainly hadn’t given the law and its impacts on his life much thought yet.
But there he was, staring at one of the most handsome blokes ever, thinking about whether he was ready to call this man his husband. Well. The answer, clearly, was no. First, he didn’t want to marry yet. Hell, he wasn’t even seventeen, and despite the things he’d told Harry earlier, he didn’t think it normal to get engaged when you weren’t even old enough to be allowed to buy Firewhisky. And second – even though Seth was good looking as hell and Draco would have loved to shag the living daylights out of him – he would never settle for spending his life with some bloke he hardly knew. He was in love with Harry, goddamn, and he wasn’t going to marry some hot boy from Durmstrang! Not even when said hot boy from Durmstrang was staring at him like that, with a look that made Draco all itchy and sweaty, causing in him the fierce desire to find out exactly what Seth’s earlobe tasted like… But no; no, he was with Harry and he would not do this to him. Them.
Draco had already opened his mouth to make things clear, when he caught a threatening glance from Harry. Draco was absolutely outraged. There he was, having to fight off some imposed husband with all the ethical integrity he could muster, and all Harry could think about was his reputation! Alright, he could have that. Draco swore to himself that by the end of the day, Harry would beg to get him back. After all, Draco could fight dirty, too.
Narcissa suggested that Harry and Draco take the two Mackenzie offspring out for a tour around the Manor. “Why don’t you show them the stables?” she offered. “I bet Seth and Serena Louise don’t get to see horses that often. And you haven’t seen them in quite a while either.”
Draco, who really didn’t care what they were doing since the entire afternoon promised to be immensely fucked up, nodded his carefree assent and watched with hurt pride how Harry led a cheerily chattering Serena out the door. But he bit back the remark that was on his tongue and grabbed Seth’s hand instead.
“Come on,” he said with false joy. “Let’s show you around.” And the two of them hurried to catch up with Harry and Serena.
~ooOoo~
Serena was a nuisance. She really was beautiful with her short black dress and the long, flaxen locks, and she had a rather cute way of cocking her head – but that didn’t change the fact that she was a constantly babbling chatterbox. She was talking his head off and it wasn’t long before Harry started to get annoyed with the monotonously falling cascade of meaningless words.
He tossed Draco a pleading look for help – but Draco was momentarily occupied with Seth, who was trying to put some straw under Draco’s shirt. The two boys were giggling and laughing like school girls, as Draco tried to flee and get back at Seth by ruffling his hair with hay. Watching them lay devastation to the Malfoy Stables, Harry felt he’d lost. Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry observed the way Seth pulled Draco into the straw with him, both still giggling and faces all flushed. They both looked distinctively as if they were just short of taking it to the next step, right then and there.
Harry did not like that.
Serena nudged him and Harry looked at her, frowning, which the girl entirely missed since she, too, was looking at her brother and Draco.
“Seth has it bad for Draco, I can tell,” she whispered in amusement, causing the hair on Harry’s neck to stand up. “He’s blond and slim, totally his type. You should see his room at home. I swear most of the boys on the posters in there look just like Draco. He must be delirious with joy our parents are going to marry them! He could have it worse, there’s no doubt.”
Harry’s jaw dropped open. “Did… did you just say…? They want to marry them?”
Serena giggled. “Of course, dummy. What did you think?”
“I…eh,” Harry stammered, feeling stupid. “I thought they… eh… wanted to marry you and Draco?” He didn’t want to admit that he’d thought he was the one who should be married.
Serena giggled even harder. “You thought so, did you? Please Harry, Draco’s gay as blazes and my parents always suspected that, even before he came out. Besides, he’s hardly my type.”
“Oh.” Harry looked back at the two bickering boys in the straw with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Draco married to that blond prat? That wannabe surfer dude? How entirely not cool!
He bit his lips, telling his heart to stop the pointless pounding in his chest. He was not jealous. Why would he be? The not-telling-anyone-bit had been his idea in the first place, right? It was good how it was. That way, nobody suspected him and Draco of being… But did that Seth bloke have to have his paws all over him?
Serena watched him closely. “Jealous, Harry?”
Harry whirled around. “What? No! Of course not! Why would I…? That’s…”
The girl only giggled harder. “I thought so. Then why don’t you come to the horses with me to prove your point? Let’s leave the boys here to have some fun.” She winked at him, and Harry, not willing to admit anything yet, allowed her to lead him away. Even though he glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Seth breathlessly kissing Draco’s ear and cheek and jaw, all up to his lips. And Draco, the traitorous little rat, obviously enjoyed himself immensely, rolling about in the straw with Mr Universe.
But of course, Harry wouldn’t know. Because OF COURSE, Harry was NOT LOOKING.
When he and Serena had just approached the horses with a bag of carrots, Harry heard Draco moan out so loud he broke the carrot he’d just meant to feed to Princess, Narcissa’s stunning white mare.
So fucking not cool.
It went on like this forever. Seth and Draco were all over each other while Harry was stuck with Serena. And he couldn’t quite shake the thought that he was not playing his role all too well since the girl kept tossing him suspicious looks from time to time. But he couldn’t help staring at the boys; their making out was too striking to not be noticed. And Harry noticed two emotions fighting in him, both desperately trying to claw their way to the surface.
For one, he was feeling angrily jealous. He really didn’t like the way Draco cooed and fussed over Seth. He wasn’t supposed to do that. He damn well knew Harry was only a few feet away, how dare the little slut allow Seth to touch and kiss him?!
Second, no matter how much Harry disliked the way his supposed-to-be-boyfriend was making out with young Mackenzie – the sight of rather hot boy on boy action (even though they had done nothing but kiss and grope) had him all bothered, and he couldn’t help noticing how uncomfortably tight his favourite jeans had become all of a sudden. An awareness that was absolutely truculent to Harry’s theory concerning his heterosexuality, and in return did nothing to lighten his mood, quite the contrary.
The afternoon went by, and Harry became more and more tight-lipped. He only waited for Seth to yank down Draco’s trousers and fuck him right in front of his very eyes. And judging by the starved look in Draco’s eyes, Harry wasn’t sure the blond would fight the other boy off if he really tried to do so.
Draco really had it coming, Harry thought. He’d so tell the blond where to get off as soon as Seth sodding Mackenzie had left the Manor! Harry didn’t care that he didn’t have a clue what to say, since he was the one insisting that they didn’t have a real relationship, that he’d even started the whole thing by planning to have fun with Serena (some plan, by the way - he’d entirely forgotten about her!)… all he cared about was Draco snogging Seth, which was entirely intolerable and had to be punished.
The thin thread of Harry’s patience broke sometime over dinner. It was probably due to the influence of several glasses of rich red wine, but when Seth started to spoon feed his tiramisu to Draco, who licked the sugary mass of the spoon in a way that was entirely too sensual for Harry’s liking, Harry gripped the handle of his glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t burst at once. Then Seth leaned in and whispered something into Draco’s ear, causing the boy to blush in the sweetest way and it really wasn’t hard to imagine what Seth might have said. And that was it. Harry jumped to his feet so fiercely the wine in most of the glasses on the table swashed over the rim, staining the expensive tablecloth.
“That DOES it!” he growled. “Take your filthy hands off my boyfriend and do it NOW!”
All eyes were on him in no time. “Harry…” Narcissa said warningly, but Harry merely glared at her.
“What?” he asked furiously. “You expect me to just sit there and watch this bloody jerk devour my man? Not bloody likely!”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then Draco pushed Seth off him and stood up as well.
“How DARE you speak to my mother like that! That we’re in this situation at all is only your fault to begin with, so don’t you take it out on anybody else, you uptight closet case!”
“I AM NOT A CLOSET CASE!” Harry yelled, glaring daggers at Draco.
“DAMN RIGHT YOU ARE! If you want me then fucking admit it already and stop acting like you’ve got something shoved up your arse! Stop pretending you’re straight and stop jerking me around, you stupid prick! I’m sick and tired of that!”
“JUST BECAUSE I HAVE SOME ISSUES, THAT DOESN’T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO FUCK AROUND ON ME!” Harry shouted, cheeks slowly and painfully reddening.
“Oh, so NOW we’re an item? All of a sudden? I’ll tell you what, Potter, go FUCK YOURSELF! I’m fed up with your shit! If you want someone to take your moods out on, go find somebody else!”
Harry blinked. “You can’t just dump me, I’m the Boy Who Lived!”
Draco snorted. “Yeah, like I care! You’re the Boy Who Got Dumped For Being An Arsehole, that’s who you are!”
They stood and stared at each other over the table, completely unaware that they were not the only people in the universe. It was only when Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat that they remembered the presence of six other people in the room.
“I suggest you two leave this room. Now,” Lucius said with the unmistakable Malfoy calmness that spoke of great emotions – namely: anger – hidden beneath the surface.
Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He stormed out of the door, followed by Harry. They stomped up the stairs, and when they reached the second floor, Harry grabbed Draco by the sleeve and slammed him up against the wall.
“Don’t even think about touching me, Potter!” Draco spat, his eyes sparkling with rage. “I’m through with you!”
“No you’re not!” Harry breathed unevenly. “I’m not going to let you get away with this!”
“This is not about you letting me do anything!” Draco said coolly. “I’ve fucking had enough of your games, Potter! I’m not a toy, you know!”
Harry had Draco’s lean arms in a vice and was slowly moving his body against Draco’s. “You’re mine,” he panted against Draco’s ear. “No one touches what belongs to me!”
“You really are fucked up, do you know that?” Draco murmured, cursing himself for giving in so easily again, but unable to do anything about it either. Fuck it. He wanted Harry; he wanted him with every fibre of his being.
“Mmmh, I guess I am,” Harry breathed into Draco’s hair, seemingly not at all bothered by the truth to this statement. “Merlin, I want you, Dray. I want you so badly!”
Draco gulped. “I… I can see that,” he whispered, referring to the hardness in Harry’s jeans poking into his hip.
Harry groaned and circled his groin. “You’re going to get it tonight. Oh fuck, you’re SO going to get it!”
A hot ball of fire manifested in Draco’s guts at the words and he found himself groaning and jerking his hips against Harry’s. “Oh Harry, yeah, I…” Then he suddenly stopped and tensed up. “Hang on. What do you mean, I’M going to get it?”
“Going to fuck you,” Harry panted, unaware of Draco’s sudden unease and frotting his crotch over Draco’s. “I’m going to fuck you all night long, good and hard and proper!”
Draco gathered all the strength he could muster and pushed Harry off. “No way!”
It took a while before Harry’s arousal-mashed brain had digested the information. “Huh? What do you mean, no way?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “What do you think I mean? No! You’re not going to fuck me!”
Harry blinked. “Why not? You said you wanted it!”
Draco glared at him. “I said I wanted us to have sex. I never said anything about me being the bottom!”
Harry looked so confused that Draco was forced to conclude this thought had never so much as crossed Harry’s mind before. He’d always just assumed it would be him getting on top. Well, as far as Draco was concerned, this was not going to happen!
He folded his arms. “Merlin knows I love you to the point of stupidity – which I probably shouldn’t, given the way you treat me – but I’m not a bottom, Potter.”
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth. Then, without further ado, he pushed Draco through the door to his room and spelled it shut behind them.
“We’ll see about that, Dray.”
~ooOoo~
The next few minutes – or was it hours? Seconds? Draco couldn’t tell – were pure bliss.
Harry pushed him down on his king-sized bed and Draco, who’d never known he was one to take to being manhandled like this, found himself groan in eagerness at Harry’s rather possessive behaviour. It was just so good to see his man that jealous. He didn’t even really mind Harry had simply taken him for a nelly bottom – he’d mind the day after, probably, but right now, all that mattered to Draco was Harry all over him. Because that was what he was doing; Harry kissed and slurped messily over every inch of Draco’s skin, licking and biting him for all he was worth, and Draco, who’d been so furious only minutes ago, let it all happen. Hell, he even participated in his own devouring, and rather willingly so. That is, as much as Harry let him, anyway. The boy was not very determined on co-operation once he’d made up his mind.
When Harry ripped Draco’s shirt open to hotly bite down on the pink nipples, Draco sensed he could no longer win this fight for dominance. His whole body was shaking with anticipation, begging for more attention to his lower regions.
“Oh Harry,” he moaned breathlessly as his hips came off the sheets to press against Harry’s, creating the most delicate friction by doing so. “Oh God, yes! More! Please…”
“Told you you were a bottom,” Harry panted and roughly shoved one hand down to rub over the twitching hardness in Draco’s pants. “You like this, don’t you, my greedy little slut?”
Draco’s mind told him weakly to protest against the choice of words, but Harry’s lips crashed down on his and cut him off, so Draco decided to leave the chiding for later and settle for a hungry, “Mmmmmmh” instead.
“Fuck,” Harry said against Draco’s lips, “you had this coming all day. You really asked for it, making out with that arsehole so shamelessly! You fucking knew it would drive me crazy, didn’t you?”
His right hand never stopped kneading Draco’s cock and balls as he spoke, which hindered Draco’s reply. Draco’s brain had turned to mush and all he could think about was how much he wanted this, wanted Harry, and so he whimpered desperately against Harry’s mouth, pleading for more in a wordless litany.
Harry had moved a little so that he was now frotting his crotch against Draco’s right leg like a ruttish puppy. Draco took up on the idea and steadied his leg, pressing his knee against the hardness of Harry’s erection. The look on Harry’s face was priceless. Shocked arousal, mixed with sheer bliss and a good quantity of exertion.
“Shit, Dray,” he pressed, face all screwed up. “You’re… gonna get me off like this. I’m so fucking close already!”
Draco hastily pulled his leg away. “Don’t you dare come yet!” he growled. “I thought you wanted to come inside of me?” He hadn’t got a clue where the words had come from, but out they were, and once spoken, he couldn’t – and more important: didn’t want to – take them back. Not if they did to Harry what they obviously did. The boy jerked so fiercely, Draco almost feared he’d come prematurely again and somehow this gave him some of his self-assurance back.
“What is it, Harry?” he teased, provokingly lolling on his bed like an expensive concubine might do. “Can’t stand the thought of shoving your cock into my tight arse, can you? I bet that merely thinking about me wriggling beneath you, begging you to give it to me harder, faster, deeper” – he especially emphasised the last three words – “pushes you over the edge, doesn’t it? And you tell me you’re the top?”
Harry groaned and pushed a hand down to grab his dick, probably to prevent himself from coming by Draco’s words alone. “Fuck…” he whimpered.
Well, well. Who’d known that things would change that easily? Draco immensely enjoyed himself. He was hard as a rock, too – but he knew he wouldn’t manage to smut-talk himself to orgasm. With Harry, he wasn’t so sure.
“You know what I’d do with you if it was me getting on top?” he asked, seductively lowering his voice.
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, his right hand still pressing down on his crotch. He must be so damn close, Draco thought and gulped almost unnoticeably. If Harry really did let go, he wasn’t so sure if he himself would still be able to hold back then. But that remained to be seen.
“I’d tell you to get on your hands and knees,” Draco whispered. “And I’d pull down your jeans and boxers. I’d do it slowly so you could feel how the air caresses your hot, naked skin…”
A low whine from Harry at that.
“… then I’d kneel behind you. And then – do you know what I’d do then, Harry?”
“You… you’d fuck me,” Harry breathed, hardly audible.
Draco smiled. “Oh no, love, not right then. Right then I’d bend down and kiss the soft skin on your lower back. And from there I’d work my way down between your buttocks…”
A tortured growl from Harry.
“…and then I’d kiss you. There. Do you know what a damn sensitive spot of your body this is? Hell, I’d do it slowly, my tongue teasing your nerve endings until you’d think you’re on fire, and…”
Harry’s hand (the one not occupied with pressing his dick) shot forward and grabbed Draco’s wrist.
“Do it!” he rasped, startling Draco out of his wicked fantasies.
“What?”
“DO. IT.” Harry’s voice was urgent and strained. He moved around and got on all fours, stunning Draco into silence. But only for a very short moment. Then, a wide grin spread on his face as he settled behind Harry, deliberately undoing the boy’s trousers slowly.
Fucking hell, Harry was hard! He breathed heavily through his nose while Draco slid down his boxers, and his dick jumped up against his belly, immediately connecting the gland to his skin with a glistening thread of pre-cum. Draco bit back a moan. He loved Harry’s dick. It wasn’t particularly big, but it wasn’t small either, and to Draco it was just perfect. He hadn’t had close-ups to that many cocks up to that point in his life, but still enough to be safe to say that in his opinion, Harry’s was one of the prettier ones, if not the prettiest par excellence. It was straight with just the tiniest bow towards Harry’s stomach, and the width fit the length just perfectly.
The urge to touch, stroke and suck it was almost overwhelming, but Draco didn’t give in to temptation. He knew for a fact that if he did, Harry wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer, and he didn’t want that to happen. After all, he’d made some promises that he was determined to keep.
Kneeling behind Harry, Draco vaguely wondered whether he was overextended with the task he’d set for himself. He’d never before given (nor received!) a rim-job and he wasn’t at all sure whether he knew how to do it properly. But when Harry impatiently wiggled his bum at him, urging him to go ahead and fucking do it already, Draco decided that learning by doing was probably the best he could do in that situation.
So he leaned in, albeit a bit hesitantly, and placed a small, almost timid kiss on Harry’s tailbone. The boy moaned and buried his face into the cushions, reassuring Draco that even though he hadn’t a clue what exactly he was doing, he was still doing it all right. Draco couldn’t help grinning as he moved further down, his tongue lapping teasingly at Harry’s cleft. Harry groaned and his hips jerked forward before pushing back against Draco’s face. Most people would probably consider it a rude and very impolite thing to have a bum shoved into your face – but curiously, Draco didn’t mind at all. Not if it was Harry’s arse on his lips, anyway.
He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent that was so very Harry, and then slowly dragged his tongue over the puckered opening. Harry moaned out so loud at the small action that, once more, Draco thought he’d come. But miraculously, he hadn’t, and Draco continued his ministrations. He found it hard to access the small hole between the firm buttocks and so he used his hands – namely his thumbs – to spread them further apart. Then he closed his eyes again, trying to think not too hard about what exactly he was doing to that certain part of Harry’s anatomy, and started to lick and suck at the sensitive flesh in earnest.
Harry thought he’d died and woken in heaven. No one had ever touched him in the place where Draco currently stuck his tongue, and he hadn’t even considered this kind of activity before – but when Draco had started talking about it, Harry had found it so enthralling that he suddenly wanted nothing more than to actually experience the real thing. He knew that he was moaning and panting and twitching in a most degrading way by now, but Merlin knew, he didn’t care.
He wanted so badly to wank himself, to wrap his sweaty hand around his aching dick and stroke from tip to base – at least once, he wouldn’t last much longer anyway – but he needed all leverage he could get to steady his body against the assaults of Draco’s sinfully skilled tongue against a place of his body that he had never before been so aware of like he was now.
Bloody, fucking hell.
Draco made throaty little noises while snogging his hole and Harry groaned in response, pushing back even more to get more of Draco’s tongue, to get it deeper in if possible. There was an entirely new desire forming in him, one that told him it would be really, really good if the intrusion wasn’t only caused by the slippery tip of Draco’s tongue, but by something more… massive instead. Harry held his breath, realising that this probably meant he wanted to be fucked.
He gasped when he also came to the conclusion that the thought of being fucked was really appealing to him. He’d never wanted get fucked before! He had wanted to fuck – he’d wanted to fuck Draco, damn right he had – but he’d never thought about it the other way. It was just that Draco had always seemed the natural bottom to him; not that he was too effeminate or anything, but still Harry felt more…masculine. And now it turned out he was the one getting it done. It simply didn’t seem right. On the other hand, however, it also seemed like a very good alternative to just waiting for his dick to explode on its own, which would be the case if Draco kept eating him out like this.
And so, Harry did the unthinkable. He turned his head, well aware of how flushed and positively shagged he already looked, and mouthed, “Fuck me!” to Draco. The flickering tongue came to an abrupt halt and Draco’s face – slightly shiny with saliva – appeared over Harry’s lower back.
“What?” His voice was unsteady, uncertain. Clearly this was something he hadn’t expected. At least not yet. Harry was pleased to learn that even though Draco had turned the table, he was still able to get the better of him.
He licked his lips. If he was going to plead, he might as well make a good show out of it.
“Fuck me, Draco,” he repeated, louder and more urgent this time. “Please! I want you in me.”
Now it was Draco’s turn to gasp in shocked arousal. “Are you… are you sure about this?”
Harry nodded frantically. “I am! Just hurry up before I make a mess of myself just like this!”
Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand (no, he hadn’t really put it to use before, but it was always good to come prepared), then yanked his trousers down, revealing his own, no less urgent, erection.
Harry glanced over his shoulder, watching as Draco thoroughly slicked his shaft, and gulped. Draco was big. Nothing worth an entry in the sight-seeing guides to England, and of course he’d seen it before, but still – thinking about fitting it into his body put matters into an entirely new perspective.
“Have you, uhm, ever done this before?” Harry asked, feeling a dragging sensation into his stomach, that was not unpleasant but not really pleasant either, as he kept staring transfixedly at Draco’s cock.
Draco shook his head. “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “But I’ve read a book about it. I know how it’s done.”
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Great. He’s read a book about it! What, The Art Of Deflowering Harry Potter?
Draco seemed to sense his unease. He leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Harry’s temple. “It’ll be alright, love. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You can take your gentleness and shove it up your arse! I’M the one who’s going to get THAT THING shoved up MY ARSE; and I bet you a bloody fortune it’s going to HURT LIKE HELL.
Harry bit his lips. He was not going to admit he was scared. He had defeated Voldemort and survived the Killing Curse; he was sure he could deal with a bit of anal penetration!
Draco had started slicking Harry’s entrance, too, and it wasn’t long before Harry felt a finger being pushed inside. He tensed at the intrusion, his muscles squeezing down on Draco’s digit.
“Fuck,” Draco breathed. “If you do this once I’m in you, I’m gonna come at once, do you know that?”
Harry gasped and realised in astonishment how his dick jumped at the words. The thought of Draco inside him was a real turn on, he had to admit that!
Draco leaned over him and his left hand sneaked around his waist, slowly starting to stroke Harry’s pulsing shaft. Harry moaned and felt himself relaxing a little, allowing for Draco to move his finger in and out, circling a bit as he did so. It didn’t feel that bad, Harry decided after a moment. Not bad at all.
Especially when Draco inserted a second finger and carefully scissored them, hitting some spot somewhere around his bladder that caused a hot wave of pleasure to pulse through Harry’s body.
“Shit!” he groaned as his pulse rate sped up. “What was that?”
“Did that feel good, baby?” Draco breathed into his ear and Harry nodded frantically. “Then it must have been your prostate, love.”
“I don’t really care what it was, just do it again!”
Harry had squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation, waiting for Draco to brush his fingers over the sweet spot again. Merlin, he was pretty sure he could come like this if Draco pushed his button often enough. Why had nobody ever told him that having something up your arse felt so bloody great?
The hand left his penis and Harry heard the slick smacking noises indicating that Draco had squeezed some more lube on his own dick, probably preparing for finally entering him. Harry shuddered.
“Now,” Draco said breathlessly and slowly removed his fingers from Harry’s anus to grip his hips instead. “Try to relax, love. Or better yet, try to push out.”
“Push….out?” Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat, concentrating on the feeling of Draco’s glans nudging against his sphincter.
“You know… like you do on the loo. It will make it easier.”
“If you say so…” Harry replied uncertainly and did as he was told. Draco pushed forward and miraculously, the head of his erection slid past the tight ring of muscles.
“Fuck!” the blond groaned, his fingers painfully digging into Harry’s hip. “That feels…. absolutely incredible!”
Harry hissed as Draco slid another inch in. It was painful, but not as bad as he’d anticipated. Draco was almost all the way in him now, and then the worst part would be over soon. Besides, it was really good to hear Draco’s constant exclamations of growing arousal behind him.
“Oh GOD, Harry,” Draco growled next to his ear and bit down on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re so tight, you’re so fucking tight!”
He started to slowly pump his hips and after a minute or so, Harry felt the pain subsiding. He became aware of the way Draco’s balls smacked against his perineum each time Draco pushed in, and that was good; he started to realise how sensitive the skin of his sphincter was, and that was better; he also noticed the way Draco’s cock brushed over his prostate from time to time, and that was best.
“Touch yourself,” Draco panted. “I want to feel your muscles tensing when you come!”
Harry crooked his left arm and rested his forehead against it, so he wouldn’t keel over when he took his right arm away to stroke his erection, and wrapped his hand around his hot prick. Fuck. He could get used to that, Harry thought while moving his hand up and down his hard length in a quick, hard rhythm. He bit his lips and gave a strangled grunt.
Draco had both hands on Harry’s hips now, steadying him against his thrusts as he fucked him harder and faster by the minute. Harry let go of his lip, moaning out loud at the sensation when Draco’s cock rubbed over his prostate again and again, eliciting hot waves of pleasure that quickly spread all over him.
Harry wasn’t going to last. The feeling of his own hand on his penis, combined with the feeling of Draco pummelling into his body, groaning in ecstasy all of the time, dragged Harry to the edge with breath-taking rapidness.
“Draco,” he gasped. “Oh Merlin, Draco, I’m gonna…”
“Fuck, YES, Harry, me too… Oh God… Oh GOD…”
Harry pulled his prick so hard he thought it might bruise, and then came in long, hot spurts all over his hand, the sheets, and some even made it up to his chest. The force of orgasm knocked the breath out of him and it took at least a minute, or so it seemed to Harry, before he could exhale again. Only Draco’s hands on him kept him from collapsing altogether while his man was still in him, riding out the last tremors of his own climax.
Then they fell together in a heap of heated, sweaty bodies, too spent to even bother with willingly disconnecting; they simply waited until Draco’s dick had softened and slipped out of Harry on its own.
Harry rolled on his back, lazily stretching his limbs. Draco, not caring that they were still sticky with cum and lube and sweat, cuddled up to him, resting his head on Harry’s cum-splattered chest.
They lay like this for some minutes, giving their hearts and bodies time to calm down, and Harry had even started to absent-mindedly stroke Draco’s fair hair, when Draco cleared his throat.
“You do realise of course, that this now makes you officially mine, don’t you?”
Harry slowly turned his head to frown at the boy. Draco glared back, his stern expression belying the way his index finger was leisurely drawing patterns in the cum on Harry’s stomach.
“I’m not joking, Harry. I’m not taking any more shit from you. Either you are my boyfriend and stand by it, or I’ll kick you out for good and hit it off with Seth. He’s a fit bloke, after all, and I could certainly have it worse.” He shrugged. “Your choice.”
It was the reminder of Seth that did it for Harry. His eyes narrowed and he immediately wrapped his arms around Draco in a possessive manner. “You really think I’d let you run off with that dickhead?”
Draco’s heart gave an enthusiastic thump. “So… no shit, Harry? You really are my boyfriend now? You’re not just saying that in post-orgasmic haze again and will forget about it as soon as we get out of bed?”
Harry snorted. “What choice do I have? I can hardly sit by and let you fool around with every bloke that happens to cross your way, now can I? Merlin knows what could happen to you! No, you’re best off with me, don’t you think so?”
Draco, trying hard not to grin too broadly, shrugged. “Only if you stop fucking with my brain before I finally go round the bend.”
Harry pulled him close and nuzzled the flaxen hair. “Oh, I’ll stop fucking with your brain alright,” he said, breathing in Draco’s delicious scent. “There are other parts of your body, however, that I very much intend to fuck in the near future...”
Draco closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. “All talk, talk, talk,” he said teasingly and bent his neck to give Harry better access; an offer Harry gladly took him up on.
~ooOoo~
Downstairs at the Manor, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were seated on the black leather sofa in the spacious living room. Narcissa sipped on a glass of champagne while Lucius was thoughtfully swaying a glass of cognac.
The enormous clock on the wall was mercilessly ticking away.
“You think they’re quite done yet?” Narcissa finally asked, throwing said clock an impatient glance. “They’ve been upstairs for an eternity. What if something has happened?”
Lucius chuckled. “What, like they’re stuck in each other?”
Narcissa rolled her eyes and her husband shrugged. “They’re still young, Narcissa. They’re probably done once, but I’m sure they’re just about to give it another go. Nothing to worry about, love.”
Narcissa sighed and inattentively leafed through the issue of Witch Weekly lying in her lap before putting it away, her hands nervously fingering the handle to her glass.
“You think the Mackenzies were upset? They left so quickly afterwards!”
Lucius took a sip of his cognac. “I don’t think they were particularly pleased.” He smiled. “And I’m sure Seth was absolutely devastated. He certainly looked like he had it bad for our Draco.”
“Yes, well,” Narcissa agreed contemplatively. “You think we should’ve told them before?”
Lucius snorted and got up to refill his glass. “What, that we’re going to use them because our son is madly in love with his best friend and we need some poof to trick said best friend into making a move on him?” He put the cognac bottle away and turned to his wife with a wry smirk playing on his lips. “Hardly.”
Narcissa smiled back admiringly. “You know, Lucius, your sneakiness never ceases to amaze me.”
Lucius grinned and dropped onto the couch next to his wife, placing an affectionate hand on her knee. “What can I say? I’m a Slytherin from a long succession of Slytherins.”
Snickering, Narcissa stroked her husband’s hand with her fingertips. “And I’m so glad you’ve finally accepted that Draco is homosexual, and in love with Harry. Who’s – apparently – homosexual, too.”
Lucius sighed dramatically. “Well, what can we do? If it makes them happy, it can’t be that bad. Or so I figure.” He paused for a second and frowned. “Even though it is still slightly unsettling to see Draco with another boy. You think it’s too late to chain him up in the wine cellar and try to reverse him by force?”
Narcissa let out a peal of laughter. “Oh come off it. No matter how hard you try to keep up your appearance as a cold-hearted fiend – I know for a fact that deep inside you’re a warm, affectionate man, who loves his son more than anything else and would do anything to make him happy.”
Lucius huffed and took another sip of cognac. “Whatever gave you that idea? I’m evil to the roots, and once I’ve found out how to impregnate a man, our dear boys upstairs will think so, too. Draco can fuck whom he wants, but I’m not letting him fuck with our rituals and traditions.”
Narcissa, taking the words for the empty threat they were, smiled and leaned in to place a loving kiss to her man’s temple. “Sure. Now why don’t you come with me, my Dark Wizard, and show me exactly how evil and devilish you can be?”
Lucius emptied his glass in one quick draught, picked his snickering wife up in his arms and carried her towards their bedchambers.
~ooOoo~
Harry and Draco, however, would never know this conversation had ever taken place. They were fast asleep in each other’s arms, not yet caring about how they would explain everything to Draco’s parents, or how things would go on from now on. They had each other. What more could matter?
At least… for the moment.
~~~~~~~~
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