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“Draco” Harry moaned. ‘Draco, Draco… stop.’
He shuddered as Draco groaned loudly into his ear, raising his head from where he’d been mouthing along the straining tendons in Harry’s neck to press his forehead against Harry’s, breathing hard.
‘Why?’ Draco’s tongue licked along Harry’s parted lips, into his open mouth. ‘Why do I have to stop?’
‘Because if you don’t,’ Harry gasped. ‘I’ll come.’
Harry knew instantly this had been the wrong thing to say because, instead of stopping, Draco merely gripped the cheeks of his arse tighter, rolling his hips against Harry’s in a devastating rhythm, the friction of their hard cocks grinding through their trousers the most exquisite form of torture Harry had ever endured.
Draco looked slightly unhinged with it too, his lips pink and swollen, his hair wild from where Harry had been tangling his fingers through it, forcing Draco’s head back so he could nip at his jaw.
They’d said goodbye to Hermione and Apparated away from the flat, full of good intentions, but within seconds, that desperate, powerful need that seemed to overtake them whenever they were together had proven too much. Draco had dragged Harry by the collar, pulling him into an alleyway and shoving him up against the wall. The alley was grimy, and the bricks behind Harry’s back were damp and cold, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t care about anything, other than Draco Malfoy, the feeling of Draco’s hands all over him, his tongue in Harry’s mouth, his dizzying scent, and his cock rubbing deliciously against Harry’s straining erection through his jeans.
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he was about to come. Harry felt it gathering in the base of his spine, the muscles in his stomach and thighs contracting as his balls drew up high and tight, heat sparking in his lower belly.
‘No,’ he forced the word out of his mouth, putting both hands on Draco’s hips and using an inhuman amount of restraint in order to gently push Draco’s body away from his. He was panting raggedly, trembling with how close he’d gotten. ‘Not like this,’ Harry gritted out. ‘Not here.’
Draco’s grey eyes were hurt, brimming with disappointment at the rejection. He peered up at Harry under his lashes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pressed a hand to the wall next to Harry’s head.
‘Harry.’ His name came out anguished, a plea.
Harry shook his head. ‘I want you so much, Draco.’ He said, his voice rough. ‘I can’t tell you how badly I want you.’ He began dotting small kisses onto Draco’s swollen lips as he spoke ‘But after waiting for so long, I don’t want to come with you for the first time in a dirty alleyway. I want our first time to be special. I want to be able to see you. All of you.’
Draco moaned softly, needily, at that, and Harry had to stop for a moment, his eyes falling closed as a blistering wave of arousal seared through him, threatening to destroy his self-control.
‘The first time I make you come,’ he whispered. ‘I want you to make you come so hard that you scream my name. I want to make it so good that after this, any time you come, it’s my face you think about.’
Harry could feel Draco’s cock throbbing as it pressed against his lower belly, his own cock straining in return, trapped painfully under his jeans, desperate to find some release.
‘Harry,’ Draco breathed, stepping back. ‘I’ve been thinking about your face when I come since I was sixteen.’
Somehow, they managed to drag themselves out of the alley, both of them tucking raging hard-ons into their waistbands as they smoothed down their rumpled clothes. Draco ran his fingers through his hair, doing up the buttons at the bottom of his shirt that Harry always tried to get undone during his frantic explorations of Draco’s body. Harry looked at the disappearing triangle of bare, pale skin and swallowed, his fingers twitching, desperate to touch.
He felt unsteady on his feet as he took Draco’s hand again and they began making their way reluctantly towards the restaurant. He was lightheaded, all his blood still concentrated between his legs, pulsing insistently and making him clumsy.
But this was what Draco did to him.
Harry felt like he’d been living in an almost constant state of arousal, ever since he’d fallen for Hermione’s transparent attempt at matchmaking and accepted the invitation to join Draco and Blaise for dinner at the Penthouse.
He had arrived at Draco’s door already buzzing with anticipation, finally ready to discover if the fantasies he’d been harbouring since he was a teenager really had any chance of coming true.
Because the moment Hermione had dropped Draco’s name into their conversation about Blaise back in November, Harry had felt it all come rushing back.
His secret infatuation with Draco Malfoy had taken up a large part of Harry’s school days, something he would never have admitted to back then, but that had been the perfect distraction for all the other horrible things going on in Harry’s life at the time.
Harry hadn’t exactly known he was gay whilst he was at Hogwarts, or hadn’t accepted it openly, at least. But Draco was open - proud and utterly unapologetic about his sexuality despite knowing he’d be forced to marry a Pureblood witch at some point in the future. It was almost as though Draco intended to make the very most of his freedom while he could. He flirted shamelessly with any male in a five-mile radius, laughing and smiling and draping himself all over them.
Harry didn’t want to look at Draco all the time, but it was almost impossible not to. Everything about him was so bright and enticing that, gradually, Harry found himself growing almost as obsessed with Draco Malfoy as he was in sixth year.
But where sixth year Malfoy was scowling and suspicious, constantly trying to escape Harry’s notice, Adult Draco was the opposite. He was loud and attention-seeking and also, horribly, horribly attractive, especially as he got older and his shoulders got broader and his jaw squarer and he kept smirking at Harry with those grey grey eyes, his mouth soft and inviting in a way that made Harry’s cock ache.
Harry remembered lingering looks during lessons, covert observations in the showers after Quidditch practice and hours and hours of fantasising replacing his usual hours of worrying.
Harry had once watched Draco eat a slice of watermelon in the great hall during a heatwave, half-hard and sweating under his robes as rivulets of pale pink juice dripped off Draco’s chin and slid down his throat, dampening the collar of his white shirt. Harry had wanted nothing more than to stride across the cavernous room and run his tongue along the prominent ridge of Draco’s Adam’s apple before dropping to his knees to suck him off with the taste of the watermelon still on his tongue, his lips sticky with juice.
Harry had told Draco about the watermelon fantasy that first night after leaving the Penthouse, whispering it hoarsely down the phone in the dead of night, long after Hermione had gone to bed.
He’d heard Draco’s fantasies in return, his hand on his dick as Draco’s honeyed voice poured into his ear through the phone, confirming to Harry that he’d known he was watching him that day and that he’d eaten the watermelon solely for Harry’s benefit.
He’d told Harry that he’d gone straight back to his dorm and wanked too, imagining his sticky sweet hand was Harry’s mouth. Harry had shivered as they whispered in the dark, so turned on by the thought that he and Draco had been wanking over each other simultaneously all those years ago that he’d immediately needed for them to do it again. They had done it again, frantically, both of them moaning through the phone until Harry came so hard that he almost blacked out.
The more he and Draco had talked, the more apparent it had become that both of them had spent their formative years dreaming about licking, sucking and fucking each other. Draco had gotten hard several times the next day as he recalled Draco’s description of a fantasy he’d had where Harry fucked him in the Gryffindor common room late at night, Harry’s hand pressed over his mouth to muffle his moans as he held him down and rode him hard. Harry had sent Draco a photo to emphasise how badly he still wanted to hold Draco down and ride him hard. Draco had liked that photo so much that he sent him one back, and thus, they found a new way to make each other come without even being in the same room.
From the moment he’d stood at the Penthouse door with Hermione for the first time, Harry had known his obsession with Draco Malfoy was nowhere near over. At thirty, Draco had grown into his boyish good looks, his grey eyes still twinkled with mirthful intelligence, as though he always knew something everyone else didn’t. He was tall, just over an inch taller than Harry , his skin a pale shade, soft and smooth, like caramel. Gods, Harry wanted to taste him. He wanted to taste every inch of him until Draco was a trembling, begging mess.
‘Harry? Hello?’
Harry jolted back to the present, realising that he’d gotten himself so aroused by thoughts of Draco Malfoy that the man himself had now stopped in the street, looking at him curiously as Harry tried to talk himself back from a ledge.
‘You alright there?’
Harry swallowed hard, scrubbing a hand over his face. ‘I-I’m not sure if I can do this, Draco.’ He admitted roughly.
Draco blinked, his hand loosening in Harry’s grip.
‘Really?’ His voice was bitter, although concerningly, not particularly surprised.
‘Wait. I don’t mean me and you.’ Harry clarified, panic racing through him. He squeezed Draco’s hand tighter, lacing their fingers together. Draco remained wary, waiting for him to continue. ‘I just mean, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t think I can sit through an entire meal, looking at you, thinking about you, but not being able to touch you the way I want. I’m so gone for you.’
Draco finally grinned, a wicked glint replacing the doubt in his eyes as he registered Harry’s meaning. His lips curled upwards as he leaned forward and trailed a finger down the placket of Harry’s shirt, stopping just above his belt.
‘You promised to take me out for dinner, Auror Potter.’ He said haughtily, his expression smug. ‘Where’s your self-control?’
Harry groaned, so needy he could hardly stand it. ‘You were the one who was so horny you threatened to defile me in front of my best friend.’ He attempted to growl, although it came out as more of a petulant whine. ‘I was trying to be a gentleman, I want to take you to dinner, Draco. But you do something to me. You turn my brain to mush and my dick to stone. I don’t know how to control myself around you.’
Draco’s cock twitched against Harry’s hip, even as the wicked grin spread wider, his delight obvious.
Harry felt a sinking sensation in his gut (although unfortunately it didn’t quite reach his cock, which still strained eagerly in his jeans, hopeful for Draco’s attention.)
‘We’re going to go for dinner.’ Draco said, cupping Harry’s jaw and kissing him languidly. ‘We’re going to go, and we’re going to actually eat food. And whilst we eat, you’re going to tell me all the things you want to do to me, and I’m going to tell you how I picture our night going, and, if you’re a good boy and you manage to get through dinner without coming in your jeans, I’ll take you back to the penthouse so we can live out my Gryffindor tower fantasy for real.’
Harry’s groan was loud, far too obvious for a public place. How did Draco know exactly what to say every time? Harry had never wanted someone so desperately.
Given who Harry was, from the moment he’d put himself out there on the gay circuit, he’d been inundated with male attention. Harry knew he could have almost anyone he wanted, whenever he wanted. He only needed to smile in a wizard’s direction, and he had them hooked. Everyone wanted the chance to say they’d fucked the Boy Who Lived. He’d lost count of the number of men who’d begged him to let them lick his lightning bolt scar, who got turned on by the knowledge that Harry had died and come back to life.
Harry loved sex. He was good at it, and he had a lot of it. But he’d never viewed it as something to be anticipated or something to be savoured. He had methods, ways to ensure whoever he was with had a great time, whilst keeping things simple and impersonal. Harry had one goal and that was to make his partner come and then to come himself in as short a timeframe as possible, so that he could go about his day - a happy ending all round.
But Draco… Harry wanted to make him come, yes. Harry needed to watch Draco come. But Harry wanted more than that. He wanted to take his time with him, wanted to keep Draco in his bed for hours, days, exploring all the things that Draco liked. He wanted to make Draco breakfast, and then lunch and then he wanted to make him come again. He wanted to get to know him-
‘Harry, hello? You’ve gone again.’
Harry returned back into his body, breathing hard. Scrubbing a frustrated hand over his face, he took a deep breath, hoping that the additional oxygen would allow his brain synapses to begin firing properly again.
‘You’re right.’ He said, clearing his throat. ‘We should… go to dinner. Uhh, lead the way, Malfoy.’
‘Harry,’ Draco said, smirking. ‘You chose the restaurant.’
Ten minutes later, they sat opposite each other in the place Harry had chosen for dinner. La Cocina was one of Harry’s favourite Tapas restaurants, relatively high-end with delicious food and even better cocktails. The barman, Joe, always made the drinks extra strong, and Harry had never once left there sober.
‘I’ve never been here before,’ Draco said, taking a sip of his Old Fashioned and looking around. ‘It’s nice.’
‘It’s probably not as posh as you’re used to,’ Harry grinned. ‘I hope you don’t mind slumming it with me.’
‘Oi,’ Draco kicked him lightly under the table. ‘I’m not a complete ponce, you know. I don’t always eat out at fancy restaurants.’ Harry cringed, immediately contrite. ‘Usually my elves cook for me.’ Draco grinned, and it took a second for Harry to realise he was joking.
‘Hermione told me you don’t have elves at the Penthouse,’ he said, taking a sip of his own cocktail. ‘But you still have them at the manor, right?’
‘Right.’ Draco said, ‘Except they’re only there because they refused to leave. I set all the manor elves free after my father died, but they’d been with me since I was a baby, and they wanted to stay to look after me. They won’t go, even now I can’t bring myself to go back there. They just appear randomly at the Penthouse to fill the fridge with all my favourite foods and fawn over Lyra.’
‘Oh,’ Harry said. ‘Must be nice to be so well looked after.’
Draco snorted. ‘Someone has to do it.’ He said. ‘That’s always been my job, especially after my father topped himself and my mother-‘ Draco cut himself off, suddenly looking sad. ‘I’ve had the weight of the world on my shoulders since I was a kid. Forever trying to fix things that couldn’t be fixed and ended up just getting myself broken in the process.’
Harry swallowed, unprepared for the heavy direction the conversation had taken, but running with it now they were already on the topic. ‘I worry about you Malfoy,’ he said quietly. I worry about you and me.’
Draco looked at Harry sharply. ‘What do you mean? I’d never do anything to hurt you.’
‘No, no. I don’t think you would.’ Harry replied. ‘It’s just… I don’t know. We’re so intense around each other. I’m always drawn towards people who look like they need help. Hermione sees the way I look at you, the way I want to spend all my time with you. I worry that I’m getting too attached. I think that you are subconsciously using me to fill the void Astoria left behind. You said you and Astoria were more like friends than husband and wife, have you just slotted me into that role because you don’t want to be alone?’
Draco’s face was doing something strange. Harry knew what he was saying could easily be taken the wrong way. But, he had to say it. As much as he liked Draco, he loved himself, and his happiness meant everything to him.
He held Draco’s eye and watched as Draco appeared to be formulating a response. Nervous, Harry took a large sip of his drink.
‘I understand why you could think that.’ Draco said slowly. ‘We are very attached.’ He shrugged. ‘But, firstly, I'm not alone. I’ll never be alone, because I have Theo, Pansy and Blaise. And secondly, with you Harry, you’re nothing like I was with Astoria.’
Harry thought back to what he could remember of Malfoy and Astoria at school. Malfoy had been like a pitbull around her. Walking her to lessons even though they were in different years, guiding her to her seat in the great hall and hovering, snarling at anyone who’d gone too near, or been too rough in her presence. He’d been aggressively protective. Like Astoria was made of glass, and he was the shield between her and the rest of the world.
‘What was she like?’ He asked. ‘Astoria?’
‘She was wonderful.’ Draco replied. ‘Kind and sweet and gentle.’ Harry smiled at him, reaching for his hand across the table. He could see Draco was becoming upset. ‘But she was also quiet, shy, nervous about a lot of things. Her parents were fucking horrible, of course, and since we were kids, I felt this sort of responsibility for her, even before we were betrothed. We got married about six months after I got out of Azkaban, as soon as I could cope with being in a room bigger than my cell. But it wasn’t really a happy day, Lucius had just died, and Narcissa was in a bad place.’ Draco shook his head. He sat back and drained his cocktail. ‘Astoria and I were close,’ he said. ‘We told each other everything, understood each other in a way none of the rest of us did. But, Draco's eyes flashed, and Harry saw guilt there too. ‘Astoria never wanted to leave the manor, so we barely saw anyone after we got married, and when we did, we were always quiet, subdued. Personally, I always looked at our marriage like a prison, one I only just managed to escape. Because the thing is, even though both me and Astoria chose to love their jailer rather than resent them, it still didn’t make either of us any more free.’
Harry felt the power of Draco’s words like a bludger. Malfoy hadn’t chosen his marriage. It was an incredibly sad way to live.
Draco chewed the inside of his lip thoughtfully as he continued. ‘When I’m around you, I'm different.’
‘In what way?’
‘I smile.’ Draco said. ‘And I laugh. Even though I'm grieving and I'm scared, I'm the most myself I’ve been in years. Harry you’re so smart and independent, so strong in your own right, I can let you take the lead and just enjoy your company. I’m in awe of you.’
‘I know I am strong.’ Harry agreed. ‘And I am independent, but sometimes it’s too much. I don’t always look after myself because I’m too busy looking after everyone else.’
‘Well then, we’re similar in that regard, aren’t we?’ Draco said. ‘Both of us want to protect, both of us feel the need to be strong. Maybe that’s what it is - we’ve found an equal. I mean, that’s why I keep the scars you gave me, isn’t it? To show you that I could do something for you too.’ Draco smiled wryly. ‘Bit of a dramatic way to do it, of course, but that’s me for you.’
Harry was silent for a moment as he processed what Draco had said. He thought about Malfoy’s skilled magic, his stubbornness, his strength of character. Clearly, he was going through hell, but in a lot of ways, he was more similar to Harry than Harry had ever realised.
‘Maybe you’re right.’ He said, looking up at Draco.
Suddenly the waitress arrived with their meals, placing down small bowls of Patatas Bravas, Calamari, Olives and Cheese, the delicious scent of roasted garlic and tomatoes distracting Harry from thoughts of Draco’s sadness and bringing his focus back to his date with Draco.
‘This looks good.’ Draco grinned, reaching for an olive and sucking it slowly into his mouth, somehow managing to make the action suggestive. Harry grinned back and did the same. They began spooning various items onto their plates, and as the waiters continued bringing more dishes, the conversation soon turned to less controversial topics - their jobs, their hobbies, favourite sports teams and so on.
‘Tell me about being an Auror,’ Draco said, spearing a lemon-soaked prawn. ‘Do you risk life and limb every day, wearing only your chest holster and red robes while you pin bad guys down and use your sexy wandless magic to subdue them?’
‘Er… no.’ Harry replied, thinking about the hours of paperwork he filled in, mountains of it for every case he worked on. ‘Not every day at least.’
‘I’m going to pretend you said yes,’ Draco grinned. ‘I’ve been getting off on that image for months.’
Harry laughed, feeling himself begin to relax, his nerves dissolving even as the reasons for his worries grew. Draco was everything Harry had thought he was, witty, intelligent and painfully sexy.
As they talked, Harry discovered that Draco was incredibly good at arithmancy, blown away by Draco’s demonstration of his ability to add and subtract ridiculous numbers in his head as Harry checked his answers on his phone.
Harry’s trousers grew tight as he watched Draco laugh at a crappy joke he’d made, his head tipped back, showing off that long line of throat that Harry had marked earlier, the sight of his own teethmarks relighting the embers of his simmering desire, his mouth watering to do it again.
Draco had clearly noticed the expression on Harry’s face, and he stopped laughing, his own eyes darkening as he bit the edge of his lip.
‘Shall we put it to the test, then?’
‘Put what to the test? Not my bloody arithmancy, please.’
Draco smiled wolfishly. ‘Your self-control, Harry.’
Harry held Draco’s gaze across the table. ‘Oh yeah?’ He raised an eyebrow, never one to back away from a challenge. His blood began to heat as they smirked at each other, Draco’s eyes glinting with wicked intent.
‘Are you hard right now, Draco?’ He asked, his voice low so the other diners couldn’t hear them.
Draco swallowed the last of his cocktail, nodding slowly as he licked the sweetness from his lips. ‘I’ve been hard practically this entire meal.’ He touched the tip of his tongue to a pointed incisor. ‘Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about?’
There was nothing Harry had ever wanted to know more. He nodded, his eyes never leaving Draco’s.
‘I’ve been imagining how you’d react if I went to the bathroom and disillusioned myself.’ Draco said, his voice a low purr. Harry leaned forward so he could hear him over the buzz of the restaurant. ‘Then came back to the table without you realising and crawled underneath. I’ve been wondering what you’d do if you felt my fingers suddenly sliding up the insides of those thick thighs, pushing your legs apart.’
Harry swallowed hard. ‘I’d let you.’
‘I’d put my mouth on you. Slide my tongue over your cock through your trousers until it got hard and wet, working you up until you were gripping onto the table for dear life.’
Harry was already panting slightly, the thought of Draco’s mouth on his cock so enticing he could practically feel the ghost of it happening as Draco spoke.
‘Wh-what would you do next?’ He asked huskily.
Draco looked up at him from under his lashes, his pupils blown wide. ‘Then,’ he breathed. ‘When your cock was straining your zipper, and you were sitting there, squirming with how much you want me, I’d undo your button and pull your trousers open just wide enough that I could slide my hand inside and pull your cock out, painfully hard for me, wet and sticky.’
Harry’s cock was responding to Draco’s words as though he was commanding it, his zip did feel ready to burst open, precum steadily dripping down his aching shaft. He let out an unsteady breath. ‘You’re killing me, Draco.’ He murmured, his hands flexing on the table with the effort it took not to reach down and press a comforting hand to his erection.
‘I’d spit on you.’ Draco said, and Harry’s eyes practically rolled back in his head. ‘I’d let my spit drip down your cock, so warm and slick that when I wrapped my hand around it and started to wank you, you’d be able to hear it, all juicy and wet.’
Harry groaned down at his empty plate, his cock throbbing, his muscles tensing. It took everything he had to slide his gaze back up to Draco’s face.
‘Eventually,‘ Draco said, grey eyes alight as he watched the effect his words were having on Harry. ‘When I had you shaking all over, when everyone in the restaurant was watching Auror Harry Potter, sitting alone, a trembling, sweaty mess, I’d slide the head of your cock between my lips and let my tongue gently lick over the tip to taste all that come I’ve been missing out on for all these years.’
‘Draco,’ Harry panted.
‘Then, I’d hollow my cheeks-‘
‘Draco.’
‘And I’d swallow you down so deep that-‘
‘Draco, I’m going to fucking come-‘
Suddenly, Harry jolted as two fresh cocktails were placed onto the table, the liquid slopping a little over the sides.
‘Thought you were looking a bit thirsty there, Harry.’
Harry looked up to find Joe, the barman, grinning down at him, a knowing look in his eyes.
‘I noticed your drinks were empty,’ he said. ‘And we can’t have that now, can we?’
Harry’s brain wasn’t working properly. His cock was twitching in his jeans, the stemming fingers he currently had pressed over his erection the only thing between him and the hair trigger it would take for him to come all over himself. Across the table, Draco was watching the interaction with narrowed eyes, clearly pissed off at being interrupted.
‘Thanks, Joe,’ Harry said, hoping to get rid of him quickly. ‘Just stick them on the tab.’
Joe raised his eyebrows, his eyes roving over Harry’s flushed face, his slightly shaking hands.
He turned to look at Draco for the first time, appraising him slowly, before turning back to Harry. ‘It’s like that, is it?’ He said. ‘Doesn’t your friend like to share?’ His brown eyes widened suggestively. ‘They don’t usually mind.’
Harry felt himself grow hot as he watched Draco’s expression grow mutinous. He said nothing.
‘Oh,’ Joe said, humming a soft sound of surprise. ‘It is like that. Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose, Harry. He’s pretty, I can see why he might think he can hold your attention. But, when you’re bored later, you know where I am.’
‘Fuck off, Joe.’ Harry snapped. His earlier arousal quickly transmuting to annoyance. ‘You’re interrupting my date.’
Joe held up his hands. ‘Alright, alright. No need to be touchy. Like I said, he’s pretty.’ He turned to Draco. ‘I can give you my number if you like, for when Golden Boy bins you off after a solitary shag.’
Draco had risen from his chair, and Harry immediately did the same, concerned by the look in his eyes.
For a moment, he wondered if Draco was going to swing for Joe, or maybe even pull out his wand and hex him. But Draco did neither of those things. Instead, he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder and smiled seductively, leaning in close to whisper something in his ear.
Even though he had no right to, Harry felt a swell of jealousy in his chest at the sight of Draco’s mouth brushing over Joe’s cheek, the way his lean body pressed against his back. Was he giving Joe his number? Was he telling him he would meet him later? Harry suddenly realised that he had no idea what Draco wanted from him. Maybe it was all just a bit of fun for Draco after all.
However, as Draco continued whispering, Joe’s smug expression changed. The smarmy, self-satisfied grin on his face dropped, replaced with a slow-growing sort of horror. Draco gripped Joe tightly by the shoulder, preventing any attempt at escape, his own expression remaining mildly amused, his demeanour calm and easy, despite the hue of Joe’s face steadily oscillating from red, to white to green. When Draco finally stepped away, Joe turned back to Harry woodenly, his eyes wide.
‘I-I’ll see you around, Harry.’ He stammered. ‘Have a good date.’ He practically ran back towards the bar, not turning around again.
‘What did you say to him?’ Harry asked, concerned but also, unsurprisingly, turned on by Draco’s quiet display of possessiveness.
Draco sat back down, pretty grey eyes wide and innocent.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, officer.’ He drawled, batting long lashes and flashing a salacious grin. ‘I don’t mind if you want to take me in for questioning, though? Maybe a strip search is in order.’ Draco stepped closer. ‘I think I might be carrying a deadly weapon.’
Harry’s surprised laugh turned into a low groan as Draco pressed their hips flush. He bent his head to nose beneath Draco’s ear. ‘Can we please get out of here?’ He muttered, intentionally dropping his voice an octave just to feel Draco shudder. ‘I need to be alone with you.’
Draco picked up the cocktail Joe had put down and necked it, handing Harry the other so he could do the same. ‘Fuck,’ he said as they slammed their empty glasses down. ‘Yes. Take me home, Harry.’
After fetching their coats, Harry put down the full amount for the bill at the table along with a generous tip. He scowled as Draco threw his own thick wad of Galleons onto the pile, at least as much as Harry had put down, if not more. ‘Draco, what the f-‘ he began but was immediately distracted from the rest of his sentence by the introduction of Draco’s tongue into his mouth, two firm hands cupping his arse. Two seconds later, they were twisting, Apparating away from the restaurant to appear back outside Hebridean Heights, landing smoothly with a joint crack.
‘Good evening, sirs.’
Simon the doorman was waiting for them, pushing open the doors as Draco gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder.
‘Hello Simon, mate.’ Draco murmured, unable to answer Simon’s enquiries as Draco yanked him into the building, dragging him through the lobby with the air of a man who is had finally run out of patience.
Within seconds he found himself slammed up against the glass wall of the lift, glad that Simon had his back to them down in the lobby as Draco grabbed him by the throat and kissed him ravenously, reigniting every bit of arousal Harry had felt in the restaurant as he reached his other hand down to run a finger along the hard line of Harry’s erection.
‘I can’t wait to feel this inside me.’ Draco murmured, his breath hot in Harry’s ear. Harry groaned, the knowledge of what was about to happen making him almost feral.
He suddenly found himself grabbing hold of Draco’s shirt to spin them around, so that Draco’s face was pressed against the glass instead, their fingers threaded together, palms flat.
Harry steadied himself behind Draco as the lift began to rise, grinding his erection into Draco’s arse as he whispered roughly into his hair. ‘I can’t stand it any longer, Draco. I need you, now.’
‘Thirty seconds,’ Draco panted, his breath fogging the glass. ‘We only need to wait thirty more-‘
The lift dinged, and they were out and kissing in the hallway, falling into the Penthouse without disconnecting their mouths. As the door swung open, Draco stumbled back so that Harry landed on top of him heavily, both of them losing all their air in a puffed ‘oof.’ Harry’s hands and knees hit the ground hard, but he barely gave them a second thought. Draco was gasping beneath him, his hands fisted in Harry’s hair, his tongue licking over his teeth. Harry planted his knees wide and rolled his hips, tasting the sound Draco made into his mouth as their erections brushed together.
Harry moved his hand down, fumbling with the clasp on Draco’s stupid posh trousers. ‘Off… get these…off.’ He muttered, incapable of coherent speech.
‘Oh, H-Harry.. wait, wait.’ Draco inexplicably began pushing at Harry’s chest even as he locked his legs around Harry’s waist, thrusting up from underneath.
‘Let’s go to my bedroom.’
Harry growled his frustration, his desperate desire almost superseding his ability to process words. He pinned Draco beneath him for a second longer until he thought about how Blaise might react if he were to walk in on them. Deciding that he’d quite like to keep his dick if possible, Harry backed off, letting his head drop onto Draco’s shoulder as he sighed and nodded, allowing Draco to wriggle out from under him and lead him to the bedroom.
Draco’s bedroom was ridiculously huge, the bed at least three times as wide as Harry’s, with a thick white duvet and countless pillows that seemed to serve no purpose at all. Draco cast a locking charm on the door and then turned to pull Harry gently towards the bed.
Harry suddenly felt dizzy again, a steady pulse of arousal pumping its way around his veins in time with his heartbeat.
Draco brought a hand up to cup Harry’s jaw, his touch tender now, almost reverent, unhurried. Harry closed his eyes, on the verge of becoming overwhelmed. This was the moment. Everything he and Draco had been building up to for months, maybe even years, all of their desire, yearning, fantasising - It was about to become a reality.
‘Harry,’ Draco breathed. ‘Look at me.’ Harry opened his eyes, his breath catching in his throat at the wide blueish grey gaze that met his, so close he could see every facet of sapphire glinting in the low light.
‘You’re so beautiful, Draco,’ he murmured as Draco gently used his other hand to slip Harry’s glasses off his face and throw them onto the bed. ‘I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.’
Draco smiled indulgently, humming a pleased sound as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting briefly over Harry’s kiss-bruised mouth, just the barest contact of swollen lips against swollen lips. ‘I'm here.’ He whispered. ‘I’m yours to have.’
Harry moaned quietly, his hands slipping around Draco’s waist and pulling him closer so their hips were flush. Draco tilted his head to deepen the kiss, still soft but also somehow, incredibly erotic, filled with aching desire, the slow slide of Draco’s tongue along Harry’s feeling like a precursor for what was promised to come, Harry’s cock throbbed in time with the sensation, oozing with precum.
After several agonisingly slow seconds, Draco pulled away, his pupils dilated so that the grey was now just a thin line around the black. ‘Strip.’ His voice was husky. ‘Let me see you, Harry.’
Harry exhaled shakily, reaching towards the top button at his collar and gradually working his shirt open before pulling it off his arms, his skin prickling under the heat of Draco’s gaze. Draco’s eyes widened when he saw the scar that marred Harry’s chest, his eyes moving over the thick ridges of scar tissue radiating out from the burn mark above his heart. Slowly, Harry ran his fingertips lightly over it, mapping the curse wounds, tracing each individual line with the lightest touch, showing Draco exactly how he liked to be handled. He circled his sensitive nipples, gasping with pleasure, the sensation twice as potent whilst being studied so devoutly.
Draco’s lids were heavy, top teeth pressed into the pillow of his lower lip. Slowly, he reached out, his own fingers following the pattern Harry had shown him, his touch featherlight, sparks of desire trailing in their wake. Harry groaned, certain he could come from just Draco’s touch, from the feel of his eyes on him. His cock flexed hard, his breath growing shivery as Draco’s fingernail ran lightly down the divot that bisected Harry’s abs, brushing over the ridges of his hips and stroking along the line of his boxers.
‘Take these off.’ He murmured, tugging gently at the buckle of Harry’s belt. Harry complied immediately, pulling the leather through with a crack before slowly undoing his button and lowering his zipper. His cock bounced free of his jeans, tenting his cotton boxers and smearing a wet patch over the soft grey material.
‘Fuck.’ Draco swallowed. ‘Those too.’
His tone was soft but commanding, Harry was helpless but to comply. He lifted his waistband away and pulled his boxers down his thighs and stepped out of them, almost painfully turned on by the vulnerability of being completely naked while Draco was still fully dressed.
He looked down at his own cock as it came into view, swollen and leaking, pointing straight up at his belly to leave a smear of precum over the taut skin of his abdomen. ‘Jesus,’ Draco groaned miserably, sinking to his knees. ‘Oh, Harry, just look at you.’ He wrapped one hand around Harry’s throbbing shaft, sliding his hand up and down once. ‘So big and so pretty. So fucking hard for me.’
‘Draco, I’m already close.’ Harry gasped, his cock throbbing as Draco’s breath ghosted over the wet, swollen head.
‘Such a needy boy.’ Draco crooned, his tongue darting out to flick gently over the tip, so that Harry jerked forwards.
‘Please, Draco…Don’t. I’ll come all over your face.’
Draco moaned softly. ‘Come in my mouth, instead.’ He breathed, wanking Harry slowly as he looked up at him from his knees, grey eyes hazy with lust. Harry’s breath hitched, thighs flexing. Draco watched his cock twitch, his eyes honing in on the droplet of precum beading at the head. He licked his lips. ‘That’s where I want it. In my mouth.’
Harry’s legs nearly gave way when Draco finally bent his head, his warm, wet tongue licking a long stripe from the root of Harry’s cock to the tip. His head dropped back to thunk against the wall as he gasped, powerless to hold back the loud, desperate sounds that were ripped from his chest as Draco did it again, then again, tonguing gently into the slit before dipping his head to swallow Harry all the way down his throat. Draco moaned his own low sound of pleasure as Harry’s hips jerked involuntarily, the vibration searing through Harry’s body, pulling every muscle tight.
‘Holyfuckingshit,’ he gasped. ‘Oh fuck, Draco. You feel so good… so fucking-‘ Harry knew he was babbling mindlessly, but he couldn’t stop. Draco pulled off slowly to take in a breath before going down again, gliding his fist slowly up and down Harry’s shaft in time with his sucks, slick with precum and saliva, the wet sounds further auditory stimuli for Harry’s already overwhelmed brain. He felt his orgasm barrelling towards him, the backs of his thighs burning, pleasure coiling in his lower belly as heat sparked everywhere Draco touched, and Harry felt it build in a perfect, uncontrollable rush.
‘Oh my god,’ his fingers found themselves in Draco’s silky hair, pulling tightly. Draco moaned louder and Harry cried out, his eyes squeezed shut. ‘Shitshitshit. I’m - I’m ahh, I’m coming, Draco, I-‘ his words cut off as he lost his battle, the first pulse of come bursting from his cock suddenly and forcefully. Draco began swallowing, his throat contracting tightly around Harry’s cock as his balls pulled up painfully and he emptied years’ worth of pent-up desire straight into Draco’s welcoming, wet mouth, his cock pulsing over and over again.
The world greyed out as Harry’s cock finally stopped twitching. He looked down to see Draco pull off, planting a gentle kiss on the head of Harry’s cock and swiping at his tear-streaked cheeks. He looked utterly debauched, his eyes unfocused, his hair wild, a world away from the sleek, elegant man Harry had welcomed to the flat a few hours before.
‘Come here.’ Harry panted, and Draco rose to stand so Harry could kiss him, the taste of himself in Draco’s mouth sending a fresh pulse of desire through him.
Draco’s own cock pushed hard against Harry’s lower belly, his hips rolling as Draco breathed shakily into the kiss.
‘What do you want?’ Harry asked. ‘How can I make you feel good?’
‘Fuck me,’ Draco murmured, his voice hoarse. ‘I want you to fill me up, Harry. I need it.’
His cock already filling again at the thought, Harry nodded, calling his magic to hand so he could vanish Draco’s clothes, unable to wait a second longer to see him naked. Draco gasped as suddenly bare skin met bare skin, and Draco’s grinding hips pushed his erection against Harry’s own. ‘Fucking Salazar.’ He groaned. ‘You can’t keep doing that, you sexy bastard.’
Harry smirked. ‘I will, and you love it. Now lie down.’ Draco huffed but immediately complied, shuffling back on the bed so that he was propped up on a mountain of white pillows. Harry took a moment to just admire him, letting his eyes take in every long line of pale, lean muscle, honed to perfection. Draco’s cock was wet where it rested on his taut stomach, flushed and dark, the most beautiful cock Harry had ever seen.
It was suddenly imperative that Harry put his mouth on it, on every inch of smooth pale skin that he could reach.
He crawled up so that he was leaning over Draco on his hands and knees, stopping to kiss him languidly for a moment before dipping his head and making his way reverently over Draco’s beautiful body.
He kissed down his neck and along his chest, lifting his arms to kiss his biceps, making Draco laugh softly and squirm away. He kissed the bones of his ankles, his knees, his inner thighs, breathing in Draco’s crisp, expensive scent and tasting clean sweat, salt and testosterone, the flavour utterly addictive. His kisses slowly grew wetter, more open-mouthed as he pressed his tongue into the divots on either side of Draco’s hips and licked his way lower.
Draco started to whimper needily, his cock twitching, precum leaking down his shaft, thrusting up into the air as Harry continued building him into a frenzy, nosing into the clean, warm skin at the crease of his thigh. He put his hands on Draco’s knees to gently push them up and apart, and Draco let him, dropping his legs open wide, hands fisted into the bedclothes.
Harry looked down, thoroughly unsurprised to find that this hidden part of Draco was also beautiful - hairless and pink, tightly furled beneath the heavy weight of his balls.
His own cock was leaking again, his hips grinding into the duvet as he used two hands to pull Draco up and onto his face, his thighs resting on Harry’s shoulders, the muscles of his arse flexing in his grip.
The first swipe of his tongue over Draco’s hole had him jolting, crying out and the sound was like an electric current straight to Harry’s balls, his cock aching as he licked Draco again, making his tongue flat and wet so he could swirl it over Draco’s rim, drinking in the sounds of Draco’s pleasure as he writhed onto his face, swearing in between little sobbing breaths.
Harry got lost in the moment, closing his eyes and pointing his tongue, using it to fuck Draco open gently, everything getting wet and sloppy and loose. He licked and sucked, his chin dripping with saliva as he pressed hot, wet kisses to Draco’s rim, loving every second of it.
‘H-Harry,’ Draco’s voice broke through the haze, ragged and desperate. ‘Stop. I’ll come before you even get inside me.’
Harry raised his head to look at Draco. He was panting, one hand squeezing hard around the base of his cock, his chest heaving and flushed, his face beautifully pink.
‘Please fuck me, now.’ He moaned. ‘I can’t wait any more.’
Harry’s cock told him this was a wonderful idea, and he immediately crawled up Draco’s body, insinuating himself between his thighs so he could kiss him, pushing Draco’s taste into his own mouth.
Draco’s return kisses were hot, breathless, his fingers wrapped tightly in Harry’s hair.
‘I’m going to cast now,’ Harry told him, panting. ‘Get you wet on the inside too. Do you want my fingers first?’
Draco shook his head. ‘I don’t need them. I need your cock, Harry. Fucking do it, please-‘
Closing his eyes to cut off at least one of the stimuli threatening to push him over the edge, Harry cast wandlessly, his magic slicking Draco’s arse, getting him ready for him, for Harry. Harry heard Draco swear, his back arching upwards.
Harry kissed him again, thumbing himself into position and pressing the blunt head of his cock lightly against Draco’s rim.
‘Are you ready for me?’ He asked, pumping himself slowly to spread the slickness in his hand down his shaft.
Draco nodded, his eyes never leaving Harry’s face. ‘I’ve been ready for you for ten years, Harry.’
With Draco’s words ringing in his ears, Harry bit his lip as he slowly pushed the head of his cock inside, everything in the entire universe suddenly narrowing to the feeling of his cock sliding into Draco Malfoy’s tight, perfect body, the knowledge that he was finally doing it, that this was Draco and all his boyhood fantasies were finally about to come true.
Harry bent to kiss him, but it was just their mouths held open against the other as Draco tilted his hips and Harry slid in and in, all the way to the hilt. He groaned deeply, watching Draco’s eyes roll back in his head. Pleasure shivered through him, every inch of his cock encased in Draco’s gorgeous, beautiful heat, squeezing him so tight, like Draco had been made for Harry and Harry alone.
‘Move, please.’ Draco gritted out, wrapping his thighs around Harry’s hips and his arms around his neck.
Gasping, Harry watched himself pull out then smoothly slide back in, bliss sparking over every inch of his skin, fire roaring through him at how perfect it felt, how much he was ready to come already, every cell in his body suffused with sensation.
‘Faster,’ Draco begged. ‘Fuck me properly.’
With a moan, Harry did as he asked, pulling out and re-angling his hips. He knew immediately that he’d found the right spot as Draco suddenly cried out, his fingers spasming in Harry’s hair.
‘Ah, fuck, Harry. Just like that. Please. Don’t stop.’
Losing himself to the sensations all around him, Harry hiked Draco’s leg higher, wrapping a hand under his thigh as he pressed his knees to the mattress so he could put his back into it, fucking Draco like he deserved, his other hand coming up to hold him by the throat as they kissed fiercely.
Draco keened into his mouth, huffing out little ‘ah, ahh, ahh’s’ of ecstasy as Harry fucked the air out of his lungs, his hips pumping in a steady rhythm. Sweat began to slick the way between their bodies, dripping off Harry’s hair onto Draco’s chest, the thick weight of Draco’s hard cock throbbing as it pressed against Harry’s belly between them.
‘Fuck,’ the word was almost a sob as Draco’s grey eyes suddenly squeezed shut. ‘Harry, I’m going to come.’ Groaning, Harry took Draco’s cock in his hand, wrapping his fist around and pumping in time with his thrusts.
‘You’re incredible, Draco.’ He panted. ‘Never felt anything like it, so good. So perfect. I uhh never want-’
Harry felt it the moment Draco began to come, his whole body convulsing around Harry’s cock as the first hot splash of his come shot up to hit Harry’s chest, under his jaw, dripping down his stomach. Draco’s arse clenched rhythmically around Harry’s cock and Harry was powerless against the rush of undulating euphoria, letting go himself and pushing his cock as deep as it would reach, feeling his cock pulse and pulse as he filled Draco’s arse with his come and his mouth with his tongue and he broke away to pant in Draco’s ear and tell him all the ways he was the most perfect man Harry had ever met.
Afterwards, they lay panting, Harry collapsed heavily onto Draco’s heaving chest.
Draco’s fingers loosened in Harry’s hair, the tight grip replaced with soft strokes as he kissed Harry’s sweaty forehead and Harry buried his face in Draco’s neck. Harry felt himself beginning to drift away.
‘Harry?’
He stirred. ‘Mmm?’
‘That was incredible, truly. But you weigh an absolute ton. Get off.’
Groaning, Harry hefted himself off, both of them gasping as his cock slipped free and a rush of white dripped down Draco’s thighs. His cock twitched again at the sight of it. Harry moved onto his side, watching as Draco rolled over to pick up his wand from the floor and clean them both up.
‘Shall we sleep for a bit?’ Draco asked, pulling back the fluffy duvet. Harry nodded sleepily, and Draco grinned, guiding Harry underneath and pulling the blanket up over them both. Harry snuggled down into the bed, smiling with satisfaction as Draco slid in close behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and planting soft kisses along his neck. Usually, Harry left straight after sex with a kiss and a false promise to call, but he’d never wanted to do anything less. He wanted to stay in this warm, soft bed with Draco Malfoy as long as he’d let him. Harry pushed back onto Draco, feeling his cock thicken against his lower back.
‘Your turn next,’ he murmured. ‘After we’ve recharged our batteries. I want to see what that perfect cock can do to me.’
Draco made a soft sound of pleased surprise. ‘You’re staying here then?’ He asked, his hands running over Harry’s chest, his cock now noticeably hard as he ground his hips into Harry’s arse, seemingly unaware he was even doing it.
‘Is that okay?’ Harry asked, suddenly uncertain. ‘I thought I’d stay here tonight, and then maybe we could try out the jacuzzi tomorrow, as promised.’
Draco had gone still behind him. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Harry continued. ‘Then maybe after that I could take you out again the next day, and then the next -‘ he felt Draco smile against his neck, a slow curve of his soft lips along Harry’s skin.
‘You mean, like dating? Do you want to be my boyfriend, Harry?’
Harry held his breath. He’d never had a real boyfriend before, had no idea how to ask someone, or even how to do it, all he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to spend every second he could with Draco Malfoy, both in bed and out of it.
‘If you’ll have me.’ He whispered. ‘If that’s something you might want?’
‘Harry,’ Draco breathed, his hips moving again now as his hand snaked around to slide down Harry’s belly to grasp his hard cock. ‘You’re so cute. I could just eat you up.’
Harry laughed, his breath hitching as Draco’s cock slipped between his cheeks, and he bit Harry’s earlobe gently.
‘It’s called cuteness aggression.’ He said, arching his back as Draco cast a gentle lubrication spell. ‘It’s- ah- it’s a real thing, apparently.’
‘Mmm,’ Draco made a soft sound of agreement. ‘I think you’re right.’ He kissed Harry’s neck again as he began to push gently inside. ‘This all feels very, very real.’