(no subject)
Wow, it's certainly been awhile :)
An Accidental Observation
A soft breeze blew in through the open window Draco Malfoy stood by, watching a dark-haired boy make his way out of the liquor store across the street. The boy, clutching a brown paper bag in one hand and a duffel bag in the other, promptly tripped over a poodle belonging to a thin, obviously wealthy woman, dropping the duffel bag as his arm shot out to steady himself against the brick wall of the liquor store.
“Fucking watch where you’re going!” Draco heard the woman shout as he watched her tug on her precious poodle’s diamond-studded leash, while the dog snarled its own reprimand. The poor boy knelt down and picked up his bag, and after mumbling his apology, hurried towards Draco’s apartment building.
Draco moved away from the window, lighting a cigarette and smiling to himself. Still a dork. He continued smoking as he walked restlessly around the lavishly decorated living room, counting down the seconds. Forty-five, forty-four, forty-three...
The contents of the room had been reorganized, replaced, vacuumed, dusted, air-freshened, fluffed, watered, and everything else possible that could have been done. The kitchen, to the left of the living room, had been mopped and every single surface had been wiped down. The hallway, on the right, led to the remainder of the apartment: a guest room, laundry room, large linen closet, two bathrooms, and, of course, Draco’s room. All of which, as per usual, was spotless, perfect, and extravagantly decorated. The upkeep of the spacious apartment required hard work, and Draco was devoted to maintaining its cleanliness and flawlessness. Well, actually, Draco’s new house elf, Luna, was, but still. No one really expected Draco to actually pick up a cleaning utensil, did they?
Four. Three. Two. One.
A knock at the door.
Draco grinned. God, he was good. “Come on in, it’s open.” Realizing a moment later that the boy’s hands were full, he stubbed out his cigarette in a mother-of-pearl ashtray and strode towards the door, opening it to reveal his dark-haired visitor.
“Harry.”
Harry Potter smiled. “Draco. It’s been awhile since I last saw you. You look... you look great.”
A fucking gorgeous dork. “Yeah, um...Thanks. You, uh.. You too. Come inside.” Draco moved aside, allowing Harry to walk past him, then shut the door and joined him in the living room. “Sorry, it’s a bit warm in here, hate the heat in July...”
“It’s alright.” Harry turned around to face Draco. “Really nice place. When did you get it?”
“End of last year, during December. Remember, I told you at the Christmas party at Shacklebolt’s.”
“Oh, did you?”
Draco smirked. “Yes, but I guess you were too drunk to remember anything anyone said.”
Harry laughed, blushing. “Oh yes.. Tonks was bartending, remember? She kept asking me to try all the new drinks she kept coming up with all night.” His smile faded away slowly and he nudged his duffel bag that he had set on the floor with his toe. “Hey, um... Thanks for having me here, especially since I only let you know this morning. You know, Ron and Hermione really needed their privacy, the baby was only born last night, and I didn’t know if you were available and -”
Draco waved away his babbles. “No problem. It’s just for a week anyway, not a big deal. It gets pretty lonely here sometimes, so it’ll be nice to...” He looked away, then cleared his throat, nodding toward the paper bag that Harry had placed on the coffee table. “That for me?”
“For us,” corrected Harry, pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Nothing expensive. Didn’t know what else to bring, so... Shall we have some?”
“Sure, why not?” Draco took the bottle from him and walked over to the kitchen, peering into some of the cabinets. “...Shit. I’ve got nothing to mix it with. Luna’s been gone for the weekend and I suppose she’ll be gone for the rest of the week too, off to visit another elf or something, I’m sure. She’s the one that makes me my drinks most of the time and I guess she forgot to restock.” He turned and rummaged through the fridge. “Will orange juice work?”
“Anything’ll work. I just need some alcohol.” Harry plopped down on the soft, overstuffed couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I’ve been helping Ron and Hermione shop for the baby for the past couple of weeks. And then hearing them bicker all through the night about this and that... I’m just so tired. I’m gonna need to get my own place soon but I can’t imagine mustering up the energy to actually go look for one.”
Draco sat beside him on the couch, handing Harry his drink before taking a sip of his own. “The great Harry Potter, searching for a place to live?” he teased. “You’ve got enough in your vault at Gringotts to buy my entire apartment building. So do I, don’t get me wrong, but my cozy little abode is quite enough for me.” He proceeded to gulp down a third of his drink.
“You’re still the vain git you’ve always been, Malfoy,” said Harry, rolling his eyes and smiling.
“And you love it, Potter,” retorted Draco, grinning back lazily.
The boys continued to drink, chat, and tease until everything became fuzzy around the edges, the alcohol loosening them up so there was more laughter than dialogue, more sexual innuendos than witty jokes, more exposed skin than confining clothing.
“Hey, it’s getting pretty late. D’you...” Draco paused to giggle for no apparent reason. “Okay. No. Seriously. D’you want a quick smoke before turning in, Harry?”
“Turn in? With you?” Harry winked suggestively and laughed.
“Oh, don’t you wish.” Draco, dressed in only black boxers at this point, stood up, swaying a bit, then disappeared to his bedroom in search of something to smoke. He reappeared a moment later to see that Harry, too, had taken off his shirt, leaving him clad in only dark green boxers. He was stretching his tanned arms above his head, groaning. God, he looked good. No. Not now. Draco had successfully managed to keep his eyes off of Harry’s partially naked body most of the night, and he wasn’t about to let himself cave to temptation now.
The following month would be the start of his fifth year working at the auror headquarters with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Harry, along with several others from the Hogwarts days: Finch-Fletchley, Finnigan, and various others he hadn’t known too well. He’d admitted to himself that he had feelings for Harry - didn’t actually hate him, but wanted him - by the end of his first year there. And when he and Harry had been paired up to work on a case together, Draco’d been ecstatic. But it had been obvious right from the start that Harry simply didn’t have those kind of feelings for Draco - he was always too busy with his other friends to spend time with Draco outside of work. Still, their chemistry had been amazing and they’d been partnered up for the following two years. Last year, however, Harry had had to take a newbie under his wing and the only times Draco got to see him were at the big events of the year: Ron and Hermione’s wedding, Blaise’s Thanksgiving party, and of course, Shacklebolt’s blowout Christmas party. All in all, he had been able to keep his relationship with Harry strictly professional for the past few years - not that it had proven to be anything too difficult, as Harry himself hadn’t displayed any signs of interest - and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself now.
“Out of cigarettes. I’ve got some weed, though. That fine with you?” Draco held up a fat joint.
Harry stopped stretching and looked up, nodding somewhat eagerly. “Yeah, sure. Haven’t had one of those smokes in awhile.” He stood up and headed over to the still-open window, almost falling flat on his face when he tripped over his duffel bag. “Damn, my second time today.” He laughed at himself, then jerked around when the lights suddenly turned off. “What the hell?”
Draco stood by the front door, his hand still on the light switch. “If we’re gonna be smoking by the window, I don’t want anyone to see us.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good idea. See, I always knew you were pretty smart...” Harry laughed.
“Shut the fuck up, Potter.”
Draco crossed the room and picked up the lighter he’d left on the window sill, then lit the joint and took a deep drag before passing it to Harry. They’d smoked the entire reefer in near silence - besides the occasional bouts of coughing - before Draco moved away to lean back against the wall beside the window. He closed his eyes, slightly dizzy yet feeling wonderful at the same time.
“Feeling okay?”
Draco’s eyes flew open. Harry was standing in front of him, gazing at him concernedly, dragging a hand absently through his disheveled hair.
No. Why was he standing so damn close?
Suddenly, the hand Harry had been running through his hair - which looked incredibly sexy at that moment, by the way - slammed against the wall beside Draco’s head as Harry steadied himself. “Sorry,” he mumbled, grinning lopsidedly. “Almost fell over. Second time I’ve done that today too... Feeling a bit high. Or drunk. Or both.”
Draco didn’t smile back. Couldn’t smile back. He’d taken in Harry’s dark eyes, his pupils dilated so much that only a thin ribbon of green was visible, and his enticing mouth, with its full, promising lips, and his goddamn close proximity, and had stood rooted to the spot, unable to move except for his rapidly swelling cock. Jesus Christ.
Harry had been licking his lips slowly when he noticed Draco’s eyes following the movement raptly. Even through his inebriated and stoned state of being, Harry was able to realize that Draco wanted to kiss him. Draco Malfoy wanted him, and it had taken him a bottle of vodka, a marijuana joint, and an accidental observation in a darkened room to figure it out. God, he was fucking stupid.
“I do wish,” Harry whispered, quickly making up his mind about the situation, placing a hand on Draco’s waist and leaning in closer.
“W-what? What are you talking about?” Draco stuttered, his eyes widening when he realized Harry’s hand was on him.
“I do wish to - ah, what was it? - turn in with you tonight.” With that, Harry closed the distance between their lips, kissing Draco softly.
It took Draco, dizzy now from the alcohol, the weed, and the added lust, only a moment to realize what was happening before he opened his mouth beneath Harry’s, kissing him back hungrily. His tongue slid into his mouth, exploring the wet warmth fervently as he pulled the other boy closer, making a sound in the back of his throat. Harry’s tongue collided with Draco’s as they kissed passionately, Harry pressing Draco up against the wall, their bodies flush, erections rubbing together through thin layers of silk fabric, both groaning at the contact. Oh, God.
“Jesus, I’ve wanted this for so long,” whispered Draco as Harry’s mouth moved to his neck, kissing and sucking and biting and licking until he was satisfied he’d left enough marks.
“Me too,” murmured Harry, nipping at Draco’s ear before moving back to look at the boy properly.
Draco’s eyes, dark grey with desire, shot open, filling with surprise. “What?”
“You heard me, Malfoy,” replied Harry, kissing Draco lightly.
“You...”
Harry rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “Yes. You were just too blind to notice.”
It took Draco a moment to collect his thoughts, get over the shock. “As were you, Potter,” he finally sneered back, flipping their positions so that Harry was the one against the wall - he wasn’t going to be the submissive one here.
“Oh, yeah?” teased Harry. “What are you going to do about it now?”
“At the Christmas party, I overheard you telling Tonks that you’ve got... a neck thing, I believe?” responded Draco, smirking slightly. He proceeded to ravish Harry’s arched neck the way Harry’d done to him earlier.
“Oh, yes, yes I do...Oh, Draco...”
Draco’s hands trailed down Harry’s toned chest and stomach, and his mouth soon followed suit, planting feather light kisses on the way. Sinking down to his knees, Draco pulled Harry’s boxers off, exposing his fully erect cock. Without a word, he took Harry into his mouth, all that he could, sucking and licking, lightly at first, then harder as he slowly took in the rest.
Panting, Harry wound his fingers into Draco’s hair, struggling not to thrust into the boy’s hot, wet mouth. Draco, his head bobbing back and forth, reached a hand down to jack himself off, following the rhythm he’d established with Harry.
After a few moments of grunting and gasping, Harry’s grip in Draco’s hair tightened as he grunted breathlessly, “D-Draco... I’m, I’m going to...”
To Harry’s dismay, Draco stopped everything, backed off, and stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry’d expected Draco to nod and finish what he started.
Instead, Draco simply said, “Turn around.”
Harry, realizing Draco was going to finish what he started, obeyed gleefully, bracing himself with both hands against the wall.
“Oh, I’m going to need... Accio lube!”
A jar floated into Draco’s outstretched hand and, shaking slightly, he twisted it open and dipped in two fingers. He placed the jar on the windowsill then carefully inserted his lube-coated fingers into Harry, leaning forward to kiss him reassuringly on the curve of his neck.
“Are you...”
“Yes. Keep going.”
Draco slid his fingers out, then back in, making scissoring motions, soon adding his third and fourth digits.
“Do it, Draco, hurry up.”
Taking his throbbing cock in hand and slathering a copious amount of lube on it, Draco positioned himself behind Harry and slowly pushed his length inside Harry’s arse. God, yes. He pulled out halfway then thrust back in, increasing the speed in a matter of seconds as Harry began to buck his hips, pushing his arse back against Draco as he tried to sheath as much cock in him as possible. Just like a dirty, little slut.
“Yes, oh Jesus, again, right there,” moaned Harry when Draco brushed that spot inside him.
Draco reached forward and wrapped his right hand around Harry’s leaking cock, his grasp tight, tugging on it incessantly, while his left hand gripped Harry’s hip hard enough to leave bruises. As he continued to pound into the whimpering boy, he leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “You like that, Potter?”
“Unghh, I... ahh -”
“If only you knew how fucking hot you sound right now...”
“G-God, Draco.. I’m, ah, I’m not gonna l-last much longer,” panted Harry, reaching back to clutch desperately at Draco’s arse, pulling him even closer.
With a couple of final brushes against Harry’s sweet spot and a tight squeeze of the hand on his cock, the dark-haired boy shuddered and came, biting down on his lower lip to keep from crying out, hot spurts of slippery come coating the wall and dribbling through Draco’s fingers onto the carpet - Luna could take care of that.
It was within a matter of seconds that Draco, too, with his knees trembling and a quietly breathed, “Fuuuuck,” against Harry’s neck, shot his seed, buried deep inside Harry. Draco leaned against him, breathing heavily, as he savored the waves of pleasure as they washed over him. Thank God they’d smoked the weed - it had made his orgasm that much better.
Draco pulled out of Harry with a wet pop, smiling slightly when Harry turned around to face him. “You look absolutely delectable after getting fucked,” he said, then leaned down to kiss his soft, plump lips, snaking his arms around his waist.
When they finally broke off for air, Harry grinned and asked with an impish gleam in his eyes, “Does that mean you’re ready for another go?” He dropped his gaze to Draco’s crotch then glanced back up, wriggling his eyebrows meaningfully.
Draco laughed. “Absolutely.”
“Then come on - it’s my turn this time.”
Harry pushed him off, grabbed the jar of lube, and made for the bedroom, Draco at his heels.
Oh, yes - this was going to be one hell of a week.
End