Demons: A Harry/Draco fanfic - 4/4
Title: Demons 4/4
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters, places and names used in the story are property of JK Rowling and the publishers who contain full rights to monetary gain. No money or fame is garnered from writing this story.
Summary: After a brutal war that no adults let alone children should have to fight, I'm almost happy. Almost. Malfoy isn't. But he won't talk about it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I'm writing a Harry/Draco fanfic (I'm actually writing three of them). Harry/Draco is what pulled me into the world of fanfics in the first place. I hope you all like it!
A/N: This fic is dedicated to hoshiko_malfoy because I love her.
Part 4:
This part starts about two months after they finished at Hogwarts.
“I’m going to be the first one to say that this feels weird.”
I tilt my head up and look at Draco. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he says, eyes on the fire. “I just never thought I’d see myself lounging in front of a fire with a glass of Cabernet Franc in my hand, in a steady relationship, and cuddling with my boyfriend and partner Harry Potter.”
I grin and burrow back into his body. “You love it.”
He hums in agreement and sips on his wine. I stare at the fire, watching the flames flicker innocently in the hearth. Sometimes staring into a fire brings back memories I don’t want.
He shivers, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. He points his wand to the fire and douses it, shadowing the sitting room of Grimmauld place in tones of gray and darkness. It’s almost as bad as the fire.
He downs the rest of his wine, and then pushes me away. I sit up, not going far. He puts his hands in his face and sighs. I rub his back, fingers reveling in the soft cashmere of his sweater. He flinches before slowly leaning into me.
“Do you think we’ll ever get over it?”
“No.”
Nodding, Draco stands up. He holds out his hand and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. I follow his lead, up to the top floor of the house.
We are sharing the same room we shared during the war, the one that used to be Sirius’s old room. It was Draco’s choice, and part of me thought it was easier to live in the master suite with its sitting room and bathroom and closets, but Draco said he felt more comfortable here.
He bypasses our bedroom though and we enter the bathroom. Over the course of the school year, and through the end of the war, Grimmauld place was cleaned and reconstructed. As soon as Draco came to live here, we were able to get that horrible Walburga Black portrait out of the entrance hall. And with its destruction, the evil dark obscuring the house slowly lifted. It is now a place I’m proud to call home.
I hope Draco feels the same way, but we don’t discuss is.
We don’t discuss a lot of things.
Draco points his wand at the sunken tub (almost like a pool) and it slowly fills with steaming water. A few of the taps release oils and bubbles into it.
I stand still as Draco undresses me. Usually he wouldn’t bother and just Banish my clothes to get me naked.
His body is almost touching mine as his fingers unbutton my shirt. His hands shake, sliding up to my shoulders and the shirt drops to the tiled floor. He bites his lower lip, looks down and steadily unbuttons my jeans. His fingertips unconsciously tease the bends of my hips, and I shiver, cock twitching under the attention. He smirks, still not looking at me as he finishes undressing me.
Our eyes meet, and his are this dark gray, a sadness, like an overhanging storm cloud. He smiles, presses a kiss to my lips and jerks his head to the tub.
I climb in, moaning as the hot water immediately relaxes my muscles. I float on my back, and a moment later, Draco joins me. His arms wrap around my waist and our lips meet. We move around until my back hits the edge of the tub. Draco settles between my legs, hands running up and down my thighs.
His mouth opens, and our tongues tangle as the sweet kiss turns desperate. He cups my ass, yanking me forward. A moment later, his hand grips both of our erections. He strokes firmly. There’s a bit of a slide from the oils in the water, but it’s mostly friction. I gasp, head smacking the edge. His lips move down my throat, teeth nipping at skin.
“D-draco,” I stammer.
“Huh?” he asks, breath hot against my collarbone.
“Fuck.”
Draco chuckles. He lavishes more attention on my collarbones, shoulders and chest - everything that is out of the water. The strokes speed up on our cocks, and my head is spinning from the pleasure. His tongue touches my ear, and then his voice is whispering. I have to really concentrate to hear it.
“-like this, Harry-love? I love turning you into mush, but what are thinking about? Are you thinking about slipping your fingers into my body, pumping them in and out of me while I have my legs up and spread, open for your feasting?”
I whimper as the image fills my brain.
“Or are you the one begging for it? Are you open for me, gripping your ass and begging me to fuck you with my cock?”
“Fuck, Draco!”
“Or are you straddling my hips, hands on my chest while you ride me, your cock bouncing and spurting come all over both of us.”
My eyes shut. Pleasure shoots through me and I’m shuddering my orgasm into the water in heavy spurts of come.
Draco chuckles and slows his strokes. “Merlin, I don’t even need the Weasleys’ instant orgasm cream.”
I shake my head slowly, mouth open. Just the image of fucking Draco is intense enough to get me to come. He’s done this before: filled my head with images and then done nothing more than stroke or suck me off. I keep telling him I’ll wait for him, but I’m getting impatient. He knows I am, but he also knows it’s his fault because he keeps teasing me.
I slip my hand in the water, get a finger on his erection before he pulls away.
“Bed, Potter.”
“Wanna lie on your back?”
“Yes.”
I grin. Our lips meet in one more kiss and then Draco washes me, head to toe, fingers firm and aching at the same time. I’m so fucking relaxed by the time he declares our bath over that I don’t want to get out of water.
I hear him climb out.
“You have five seconds and then I’m turning that water into ice.”
I sigh. “Fine, fine.” I turn around and haul myself from the tub. A blast of cold air hits me and I curse. You’d think I’d be used to Draco’s tactics in drying me off.
“Fucker,” I mutter, teeth chattering.
He smirks, unrepentant. “I’d feel bad, but I know how to heat you up.” He cups his erection and turns away. “Are you coming to bed?”
I scramble to my feet and chase after him. “Arrogant snake.”
He laughs. I brush past him and climb into our bed, shivering until Draco casts a warming charm on our blankets.
Draco climbs in after me, and his warm skin presses against mine. I curl into his body.
“Do we have to have a party here tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply. “Lots of things to celebrate.”
Draco sighs. “I don’t need to celebrate them.”
“Draco, come on. We graduated from Hogwarts. You’re starting your Potions Mastery in a week, Ron is off to play Quidditch for the Cannons, Ginny and Oliver are getting married-”
“You’re the boy who killed the madman a year ago,” Draco adds.
“And you’re the boy who helped me.”
Draco sighs again. “I just feel like I’m finally comfortable, and tomorrow everything is going to ruin that.”
I press a kiss to his chest and trail my hand around his stomach. It’s very rare that Draco is honest about something without being a total prat about it. “Tell me, and I’ll cancel it. We can have it at the Burrow and you can stay home.”
He shakes his head. “No, Harry. Sorry. I know this is important for you and everyone else.”
I turn his head and make him look at me. “What is really bothering you, love?”
Draco swallows. “N-nothing.”
He sees my disbelieving look and rolls his eyes dramatically. “You’re so smart, Potter.”
“Stop calling me that. You only call me that when you feel insecure.”
“I …”
Draco shakes his head and turns away, curling up on his side. I frown at his back and slide next to him. I never force Draco to talk to me. Part of me wishes I do, for moments like this. His body is shuddering. I wrap my arm around his waist, press a kiss to his spine between his shoulder blades.
“I wish I knew what to say to make everything better, for you, for us, for … everything.”
He sighs, body sagging against mine.
“I love you,” I say, lips against his neck now.
He turns his head and our lips meet briefly. “You have no idea how hearing you say that makes everything better.”
I smile into the next kiss. “It’s true. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Harry.”
--
The party is huge, and there are more people in Grimmauld place than there were even at the height of the war. Draco is his usual self. I can tell that he’s fighting some internal battles, and so can Pansy and Hermione to an extent, but no one else realizes anything. He’s just as sarcastic and arrogant as he always is. To my surprise, he spends most of the night in the company of the Weasley Twins. They’re talking business whenever I come near them, but by the way Fred and George’s eyes are glinting, I have a feeling they’re talking about the new products in the Weasley Adult Line.
Near the middle of the party, Hermione decides to gather everyone in the main dining room for a round of toasts for all the things we are celebrating. The table has been moved, leaving the area looking more like a ballroom. The house-elves have enlarged it to fit all our guests. Hermione picks a perfect time for it, since most of us are already partially drunk, and if we wait much longer, we’ll be totally sloshed.
Everyone stands in a circle, Never-Emptying cups full of Ogden’s Finest. Their eyes all look at me, and I swallow. I hate being under scrutiny. Draco saves me. Even though he rolls his eyes.
“What Harry should be saying,” Draco starts, “is thank you all for coming, and please don’t get drunk and destroy the place now that it’s all pretty and renovated and free of the Dark Arts.”
“Aw, man,” Fred says.
“Better leave the experimental exploding things in our pants,” George adds.
Fred opens his mouth to make a sexual joke, and Molly shoots a curse at him. He yelps and rubs his arm. “Um, Sorry, Ferret. Continue.”
Draco grins at them and continues, “So a series of toasts. First, Ginny and Oliver, congratulations. May you have many red-headed children that do not fall off broomsticks as much as Harry does.”
The crowd laughs and raises their glasses to Ginny and Oliver.
“Next, Weasel.” Draco tips his glass to Ron. He smiles, and then in a low voice starts singing “Weasley is our King.” Again the crowd laughs and half way through, they join in with the song, though Fred and George sing the not-so-nice lyrics. “Congratulations on making Keeper for the Cannons,” Draco says.
“Thanks, Ferret,” Ron says.
“And,” Draco says, looking at Pansy.
“Don’t you dare, Dra-“
“Congratulations to both of you for adding another Weasley to the world. I hope the child gets its looks from Pansy and doesn’t end up looking like a Weasel.”
Everything is silent and wide-eyed looks of shock are pointed at the blushing couple.
“What?” I shriek and it’s echoed by half the revelers.
Ron glares at Draco, and then at Pansy. “Thanks, Pans. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”
“He promised me he wouldn’t tell!” Pansy says, glaring at Draco.
It makes more sense to me why Pansy requested a glass of water at the beginning of the party.
Hermione breaks the circle and hugs Pansy tightly. “Congratulations.”
“T-thanks,” she says, hugging back. As others start to go to hug her too, Draco calls everyone to order.
“Hugs after the toasts,” Draco says. He turns to Little Teddy, who is practically asleep in Molly Weasley’s arms. “Happy Birthday to our youngest war veteran.”
Teddy doesn’t know what that means, but he beams and says, “Thank you, Uncca Draco.”
Draco smiles, and then moves to Hermione. “The brightest witch of our time, right?” he drawls.
Hermione rolls her eyes and makes an obscene gesture that has everyone laughing.
“Congratulations on your acceptance into the Charms Mastery and Arithmancy Mastery. May you never sleep again.”
“Hear, hear!” Ron says, raising his glass.
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t get that one up the duff?” Fred says, and earns another curse from Molly.
Ron and Hermione smile at each other.
Draco turns to the Weasley Twins as the laughter fades. “A new store in Hogsmeade is always worth a drink. Congratulations, and let me know when you need more money to make more sex toys. I’ll give you Harry’s account number.”
“We already have it, mate,” Fred says with a wink.
“What?” I demand.
Fred and George laugh along with everyone else.
Draco takes a deep breath. “Okay, so that’s it, I …”
More than one of us, me included, shout a denial.
“What? Who did I forget?”
“You,” I say. I raise my glass. “To Draco, for starting his Potions Mastery, the first step on his way to teaching at Hogwarts and scaring the shite out of first years for the rest of his life.”
“Hear! Hear!”
Draco smiles at me and we both drink.
After a moment, Draco sobers and then looks at the gathered friends again. “I think Harry should say this next part.”
I look at him, and then look at everyone else. It is fitting for me to make this speech, but I still hate it. I pause and think of how to start.
“Across town, the Ministry is holding a banquet in memory of the war. It is full of dignitaries, officials, and those who did not fight on the front lines. I guess most of our invitations were lost in the owl post, right?”
There were snickers all around us. I received an invitation, but Draco had not, nor had Pansy, nor the Weasleys.
“Many lives were lost in the war.”
The room quiets as we remember our friends.
“But here, at this place, they are remembered in the way they should be remembered, with a glass of rum and laughter from those who knew them best. If we took a drink for each of our friends that died in the war, we’d be drunk in only a few minutes, so please raise your glasses, join me in a moment of silence as we remember those that gave their lives for us to be free.”
Draco takes my hand and nods his approval at my short speech. It is quiet for a long time, and then I clear my throat. Voice choked, I say, “To them and to us.”
Everyone drinks. Everything is quiet for another moment and then slowly people start talking and breaking off into pairs. The women gather around Pansy, and the Twins rescue Ron from their raging mother.
“Can we disappear?” Draco whispers.
I look around the room and shrug. “You’re the party expert. Isn’t that a social faux pas to disappear at a party you’re hosting?”
“Yes. Let’s do it anyway.”
“Okay.”
We set our drinks on one of the trays charmed to take it to the kitchen and we leave the dining room. We pass a few people in the halls. Once on the stairs, Draco takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom.
Draco removes his tie and sits on the bed. I watch from the door as he roughly unbuttons his shirt. A couple of the buttons snap under the treatment. I undo a few buttons on my shirt and pull it over my head. Before going to the bed, I throw up a silencing spell, five locking charms and add a Confundus charm for good measure.
“Over kill,” Draco says and he lies back on the bed, feet still on the floor.
“Maybe,” I reply.
He flings an arm over his face, and doesn’t protest when I unclasp his slacks and take off the rest of his clothes. I run my hands over his thighs and hips, up his stomach to his chest. My fingertips brush over his nipples and he inhales.
“Harry?”
“Hm?” I lean over him and press a line of kisses on his breastbone.
“Make love to me.”
I freeze and then kiss his neck. “Okay.”
He grips my hair and pulls me to his mouth. I kneel on the edge of the bed, straddling his waist as our lips meet in a heavy kiss. His body is shaking, his lips are shaking.
I want to ask if he’s sure, if he’s ready, if he really wants this. But I know Draco and it will upset him, because if he didn’t want it, he would not have asked for it.
My cock is hard in my pants.
I undo the button and lower the zipper of my trousers. He pushes his hand into my pants and we both pull them off.
He sighs, eyes shut. Our kiss ends. He pushes his upper body off the bed and slides toward the middle. He rolls over, spread eagle, naked and gorgeous. I lick my lips. A wandless spell calls the lube from the bathroom where we last used it.
I crawl over him, kissing his feet and ankles, sliding my tongue up the smooth skin of his knee and the back of his thigh.
This isn’t the exact day the war ended. But this is the day when we destroyed Voldemort. We were both captured, because we were young and stupid. And Draco … Draco was more or less taken like nothing changed. He fought back with fists and nails, and they laughed at him as they threw Cruciatus Curses at him. Over and over until he was so weak.
I can’t remember ever being so angry at the Death Eaters. I’d seen them kill my friends, rip apart my family and destroy most of Hogwarts, but that is what set me off.
I’d been practicing wandless magic for months before this, and over and over, my instructors said I had to “FEEL” what I wanted.
It didn’t make sense until then. I wanted them to burn, I wanted them all to burn. And I felt it, on my skin, in my body, and with my blurry eyes turned on Draco’s tormentors, I shouted the spell for Fiendfyre. It ripped through the room, and only a few of them escaped. Draco and I barely managed to get out of that room. And when we tumbled outdoors, the war was all around us. I summoned our wands to us. Being so full of magic was odd, and Draco felt the aftereffect for weeks. It was a combination of the two our of magical signatures that produced a slashing curse effective enough for us to disable Voldemort and then Ron had been there with the Sword of Gryffindor.
I try not to relive hacking Voldemort to pieces.
“Harry?”
“Yes, love?”
“The only reason I don’t have that day permanently Obliviated from my mind is because of you.”
I smile and kiss the dip in his spine at his lower back. “Same here.”
He props up on his elbows. “I know you’re worried about me, love,” he says. “But I … I want this day to have a good memory, too. A happy one, one that will shine in comparison to that day.”
“Wow. Talk about pressure to perform.”
Draco laughs and rolls over. I crawl up him to his lips for a kiss. “Anything you can do to me will be better than that day.”
“Now that’s the truth.”
I settle over him. Our kiss deepens. His legs wrap around me. We both shudder as our erections slide together. We’ve been this way so many times, but this is different. It’s almost like since we’re going to be doing more, there’s less need to rush, less desperation between us. And yet, we’re both shaking so much that I don’t know who is more nervous.
Weeks or years or hours or moments later, I pull away from his lips. Our forehead press together and our breaths mingle as our hips slowly rock together. I turn my attention to his skin. His soft, pampered, aristocratic skin. I always feel a little unworthy when Draco lets me worship him.
I close my mouth around a pink nipple, sucking slightly and flicking the nub with my tongue.
“Hm, Harry?”
“Huh?” I ask as I move to the other nipple.
“Feels good.”
I smile and let my tongue run down his stomach, over twitching abs. I pause and lick at the scars decorating his chest. He hates it when I do this, but I ignore his protest and continue until each scar has been rectified and forgiven.
I caress the sharp edge of his hip bone and lick at the dip over and over until he’s squirming and almost laughing. This is how I love Draco the most, when he’s dropped his walls and he’s more or less normal. I won’t say this out loud, because he throws his walls back up when I do.
I lightly grip his cock and pull it away from his body. I lick his stomach first, where the head had rested. The tang of precome fills my mouth. I moan and close my mouth around the tip of his erection. He moans, trying to thrust up into my mouth. I tighten my hold with my hand and lick at the crown, over and around, tonguing the slit until Draco is begging me to do something.
I smirk and suck a few inches into my mouth. With my other hand, I trace the curves of his ass.
“Bloody fuck, Harry,” he practically shouts.
I let his cock fall back to his body with a smack. I smile up at him, fingers still at his ass. With my other hand, I open the bottle of lube and coat my fingers with it. Our eyes meet, and Draco’s gaze is bordering on panic. I won’t mind if he changes his mind. I kiss his knee, hoping he knows that.
His eyes shut and he lifts his legs, gripping behind his knees.
I stare at his body for a moment, lick my lips as his entrance clenches in anticipation. I slide my slick finger to the puckered skin, just touching and not pressing, not yet. I lean forward and lick his balls. My other hand grabs his cock again and the three sensations have him screaming my name again.
“Finger me, Harry,” he gasps, “Please.”
I push my finger into him; he cries out again. I rise up enough to put his cock into my mouth and cup his balls with my other hand. I finger him slowly, twisting and crooking my finger until the spasming stops and Draco begs for more. I add more lube.
We never use the spells for stretching and lubing automatically. Draco said once in an offhand conversation that it was so impersonal. I took the hint, knowing that it had to do with his experiences at the hands of the Death Eaters.
I wait until he’s more or less relaxed and then press in a second finger. This is as far as we’ve ever gone. It seems silly to stop right here, but at this point, I’m used to sucking Draco off and then either jerking off while Draco watches or getting a blow job in return.
I pull my mouth away from his cock, because I don’t want him to come until I’m inside him, and I want him to like it. I’m so worried that he’s going to go soft as soon as I push inside him. I kiss around his cock though, and continue playing with his balls as I spread and twist my fingers. A third pushes into him and his cock pulses, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to come anyway.
“Hurry, please, Harry, please,” he whispers.
I remove my fingers from his body and lean over him so I can kiss him. His chest is rising and falling fast.
“I want you to go at your own pace, so I’m going to be lazy and just lay back and let you ride me.”
Draco smirks, but there is a thankful look in his eyes.
I roll away and stretch. He’s kissing me a moment later, lips against my chest.
“I love you,” he says into my skin.
I run my fingers through his hair and tell him I love him.
He grabs the bottle of lube and dumps the cool liquid on my cock. His hand follows, and my eyes shut as he strokes me.
“Would you be terribly angry if I changed my mind?” Draco whispers.
I frown but shake my head. “No. Because you’ll get me off anyway.”
“Yeah.” He keeps stroking me. His other hand finds mine and our fingers entwine and squeeze.
Our lips meet, and my eyes open, locking with Draco’s gray eyes. He sighs and then smiles as he climbs over me, knees at my hips. Our hands lock together. We kiss again. He lowers his body and rocks against my body. We both moan.
Draco lies completely on top of me. I release one of his hands and put my arm around his body.
“I’m scared, Harry.”
“I know.”
“It’s like … I want you so much, but I don’t want to hate it.”
I smile and kiss his cheek, down his neck. He sighs and thrusts against my body. His hard cock slides over my stomach. He rises up enough to grip both of our erections.
I moan, eyes shutting tightly as he strokes slowly.
“I know you’d be happy with just this,” he says, lips against my chest now. “But I wouldn’t be. I want you. I want to be comfortable. We’re nineteen for Merlin’s sake and we have the lamest sex lives of any nineteen-year-old. I know that doesn’t matter,” he says when I open my mouth to say that, “It’s just … it’s one of those just jump in sort of things. I know I won’t hate it, I know every moment with you will be amazing, but … I …”
“I know, love,” I say and touch his face.
He leans into it and then turns his head to kiss my hand. “I think I need to get it over with. Get rid of the anticipation.”
I grip his hips and he lets me slide him back. He moans and suddenly pushes up, hands on my chest. My cock catches on his body and then slips back, between his cheeks. He gasps and rocks, and the slide is insane from all the lube.
“I-I’m about to come all over your ass,” I say, trying to think past my rising pleasure.
“Did you use the instant orgasm lube again?” he says, a drawl in his voice.
I smile and shake my head. “You’re just that fucking sexy.”
He smiles back and stops. He lowers his head, eyes shut and then reaches behind him. His fingers curl around my cock, lifting it, and his hips rise. He slides my cock up and down his cleft, and we both moan again while he teases us both. With a firm grip, he holds me steady against his entrance. My vision swims at the tight clench around my cock, and I hear his whimpers only though the haze as he slowly sits, taking most of me all the same time. He’s so tight and my fragile hold on my orgasm snaps and with only a single thrust into him, I’m coming hard and shouting his name.
He falls over me with a laugh and kisses my moans away. I try to recover, but he’s moving, riding me slow and the sensations on my sensitive cock are too much. I grab his hips, wanting to push him away. But he grabs my hands and our fingers entwine and he pins my hands above my head.
“You’ve had your pleasure, Potter. Now it’s my turn.”
I groan and lift my head for a kiss. He obliges and then moves faster, slamming his body down over and over. Part of me is worried about hurting him, after so long without sex, but his hard cock is bouncing while he rides me and his normally pale skin is pink with pleasure and need. His thighs shake, and his arms tremble.
I pull a hand away from his and wrap it around his body. Carefully, I lower him to the bed, to his back, and kneel between his legs. He whines and spreads his legs for me. I hold him with a hand behind his knee and push back into his body. His hands go above his head, fisting the blanket in a white-knuckled grip. He thrashes back and forth, whining my name as I thrust into him harder.
The squelch of my cock in his body is obscene, almost dirty. His cock is pulsing precome all over his stomach. I wrap my hand around him and stroke, eyes on his face. I am looking for discomfort, but all I see is desperation and pleasure.
“H-harder,” he gasps, “harder!”
I shiver and slam into him harder. He throws his head back, crying out my name, and pumps heavy white strands of come all over his chest and stomach.
I gasp, almost collapsing as his entrance clenches around me. I slow, only enough to make sure that he’s all right.
He shakes his head. “No, no, more. Keep … more …”
I smile and press a kiss to his open mouth. “How much more?”
“Lots. A lot more.”
“I have no problem with that.”
“Sex fiend.”
“Yeah, pretty much. May I continue?”
“Gods, yes.”
I speed back up, capture his moans in a long series of kisses. It doesn’t take much longer for another orgasm to crash through us, but Draco is rarely satisfied so easily, and in my orgasmic daze, he pushes me over and I land on my back and he’s riding me again. I stare unabashedly at him, at his crazy hair, and the drops of sweat mixing with come and lube between us. I don’t think I’ll ever get to see him this unkempt and I smile, but he scowls at me like he knows what I’m thinking and I pull him down to me and kiss him hard, needy and full of love.
I lose track of how often our positions change, of how often he begs for more or cries out my name. I’m pretty sure I come five times, but even that is all in a blur of kisses and sweat and moans. Even as Draco’s body is spent beneath me, his tired eyes are asking for me to continue. I think I promise him more in the morning, but it is morning and the sky is gray with dawn.
“Sleep, Draco,” I whisper and kiss him softly. “Just sleep.”
“Can’t … don’t … more, please.”
I gather him against me, his back to my chest, my cock still buried in his body. He sags against me, arm reaching behind to hold me. I know he’ll be asleep in a moment, and when we wake up, I’m pretty sure he’ll deny begging me like he did.
I whisper an, “I love you,” into his neck, and his lips flutter in a smile. He’s too far asleep to return it, but I don’t need him to say it out loud all the time. His smile is enough. His smile is worth it all.
Part 3: Grateful Moments
Part 2: Painful Moments
Part 1: Awkward Moments
.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters, places and names used in the story are property of JK Rowling and the publishers who contain full rights to monetary gain. No money or fame is garnered from writing this story.
Summary: After a brutal war that no adults let alone children should have to fight, I'm almost happy. Almost. Malfoy isn't. But he won't talk about it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I'm writing a Harry/Draco fanfic (I'm actually writing three of them). Harry/Draco is what pulled me into the world of fanfics in the first place. I hope you all like it!
A/N: This fic is dedicated to hoshiko_malfoy because I love her.
Part 4:
This part starts about two months after they finished at Hogwarts.
“I’m going to be the first one to say that this feels weird.”
I tilt my head up and look at Draco. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he says, eyes on the fire. “I just never thought I’d see myself lounging in front of a fire with a glass of Cabernet Franc in my hand, in a steady relationship, and cuddling with my boyfriend and partner Harry Potter.”
I grin and burrow back into his body. “You love it.”
He hums in agreement and sips on his wine. I stare at the fire, watching the flames flicker innocently in the hearth. Sometimes staring into a fire brings back memories I don’t want.
He shivers, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. He points his wand to the fire and douses it, shadowing the sitting room of Grimmauld place in tones of gray and darkness. It’s almost as bad as the fire.
He downs the rest of his wine, and then pushes me away. I sit up, not going far. He puts his hands in his face and sighs. I rub his back, fingers reveling in the soft cashmere of his sweater. He flinches before slowly leaning into me.
“Do you think we’ll ever get over it?”
“No.”
Nodding, Draco stands up. He holds out his hand and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. I follow his lead, up to the top floor of the house.
We are sharing the same room we shared during the war, the one that used to be Sirius’s old room. It was Draco’s choice, and part of me thought it was easier to live in the master suite with its sitting room and bathroom and closets, but Draco said he felt more comfortable here.
He bypasses our bedroom though and we enter the bathroom. Over the course of the school year, and through the end of the war, Grimmauld place was cleaned and reconstructed. As soon as Draco came to live here, we were able to get that horrible Walburga Black portrait out of the entrance hall. And with its destruction, the evil dark obscuring the house slowly lifted. It is now a place I’m proud to call home.
I hope Draco feels the same way, but we don’t discuss is.
We don’t discuss a lot of things.
Draco points his wand at the sunken tub (almost like a pool) and it slowly fills with steaming water. A few of the taps release oils and bubbles into it.
I stand still as Draco undresses me. Usually he wouldn’t bother and just Banish my clothes to get me naked.
His body is almost touching mine as his fingers unbutton my shirt. His hands shake, sliding up to my shoulders and the shirt drops to the tiled floor. He bites his lower lip, looks down and steadily unbuttons my jeans. His fingertips unconsciously tease the bends of my hips, and I shiver, cock twitching under the attention. He smirks, still not looking at me as he finishes undressing me.
Our eyes meet, and his are this dark gray, a sadness, like an overhanging storm cloud. He smiles, presses a kiss to my lips and jerks his head to the tub.
I climb in, moaning as the hot water immediately relaxes my muscles. I float on my back, and a moment later, Draco joins me. His arms wrap around my waist and our lips meet. We move around until my back hits the edge of the tub. Draco settles between my legs, hands running up and down my thighs.
His mouth opens, and our tongues tangle as the sweet kiss turns desperate. He cups my ass, yanking me forward. A moment later, his hand grips both of our erections. He strokes firmly. There’s a bit of a slide from the oils in the water, but it’s mostly friction. I gasp, head smacking the edge. His lips move down my throat, teeth nipping at skin.
“D-draco,” I stammer.
“Huh?” he asks, breath hot against my collarbone.
“Fuck.”
Draco chuckles. He lavishes more attention on my collarbones, shoulders and chest - everything that is out of the water. The strokes speed up on our cocks, and my head is spinning from the pleasure. His tongue touches my ear, and then his voice is whispering. I have to really concentrate to hear it.
“-like this, Harry-love? I love turning you into mush, but what are thinking about? Are you thinking about slipping your fingers into my body, pumping them in and out of me while I have my legs up and spread, open for your feasting?”
I whimper as the image fills my brain.
“Or are you the one begging for it? Are you open for me, gripping your ass and begging me to fuck you with my cock?”
“Fuck, Draco!”
“Or are you straddling my hips, hands on my chest while you ride me, your cock bouncing and spurting come all over both of us.”
My eyes shut. Pleasure shoots through me and I’m shuddering my orgasm into the water in heavy spurts of come.
Draco chuckles and slows his strokes. “Merlin, I don’t even need the Weasleys’ instant orgasm cream.”
I shake my head slowly, mouth open. Just the image of fucking Draco is intense enough to get me to come. He’s done this before: filled my head with images and then done nothing more than stroke or suck me off. I keep telling him I’ll wait for him, but I’m getting impatient. He knows I am, but he also knows it’s his fault because he keeps teasing me.
I slip my hand in the water, get a finger on his erection before he pulls away.
“Bed, Potter.”
“Wanna lie on your back?”
“Yes.”
I grin. Our lips meet in one more kiss and then Draco washes me, head to toe, fingers firm and aching at the same time. I’m so fucking relaxed by the time he declares our bath over that I don’t want to get out of water.
I hear him climb out.
“You have five seconds and then I’m turning that water into ice.”
I sigh. “Fine, fine.” I turn around and haul myself from the tub. A blast of cold air hits me and I curse. You’d think I’d be used to Draco’s tactics in drying me off.
“Fucker,” I mutter, teeth chattering.
He smirks, unrepentant. “I’d feel bad, but I know how to heat you up.” He cups his erection and turns away. “Are you coming to bed?”
I scramble to my feet and chase after him. “Arrogant snake.”
He laughs. I brush past him and climb into our bed, shivering until Draco casts a warming charm on our blankets.
Draco climbs in after me, and his warm skin presses against mine. I curl into his body.
“Do we have to have a party here tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply. “Lots of things to celebrate.”
Draco sighs. “I don’t need to celebrate them.”
“Draco, come on. We graduated from Hogwarts. You’re starting your Potions Mastery in a week, Ron is off to play Quidditch for the Cannons, Ginny and Oliver are getting married-”
“You’re the boy who killed the madman a year ago,” Draco adds.
“And you’re the boy who helped me.”
Draco sighs again. “I just feel like I’m finally comfortable, and tomorrow everything is going to ruin that.”
I press a kiss to his chest and trail my hand around his stomach. It’s very rare that Draco is honest about something without being a total prat about it. “Tell me, and I’ll cancel it. We can have it at the Burrow and you can stay home.”
He shakes his head. “No, Harry. Sorry. I know this is important for you and everyone else.”
I turn his head and make him look at me. “What is really bothering you, love?”
Draco swallows. “N-nothing.”
He sees my disbelieving look and rolls his eyes dramatically. “You’re so smart, Potter.”
“Stop calling me that. You only call me that when you feel insecure.”
“I …”
Draco shakes his head and turns away, curling up on his side. I frown at his back and slide next to him. I never force Draco to talk to me. Part of me wishes I do, for moments like this. His body is shuddering. I wrap my arm around his waist, press a kiss to his spine between his shoulder blades.
“I wish I knew what to say to make everything better, for you, for us, for … everything.”
He sighs, body sagging against mine.
“I love you,” I say, lips against his neck now.
He turns his head and our lips meet briefly. “You have no idea how hearing you say that makes everything better.”
I smile into the next kiss. “It’s true. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Harry.”
--
The party is huge, and there are more people in Grimmauld place than there were even at the height of the war. Draco is his usual self. I can tell that he’s fighting some internal battles, and so can Pansy and Hermione to an extent, but no one else realizes anything. He’s just as sarcastic and arrogant as he always is. To my surprise, he spends most of the night in the company of the Weasley Twins. They’re talking business whenever I come near them, but by the way Fred and George’s eyes are glinting, I have a feeling they’re talking about the new products in the Weasley Adult Line.
Near the middle of the party, Hermione decides to gather everyone in the main dining room for a round of toasts for all the things we are celebrating. The table has been moved, leaving the area looking more like a ballroom. The house-elves have enlarged it to fit all our guests. Hermione picks a perfect time for it, since most of us are already partially drunk, and if we wait much longer, we’ll be totally sloshed.
Everyone stands in a circle, Never-Emptying cups full of Ogden’s Finest. Their eyes all look at me, and I swallow. I hate being under scrutiny. Draco saves me. Even though he rolls his eyes.
“What Harry should be saying,” Draco starts, “is thank you all for coming, and please don’t get drunk and destroy the place now that it’s all pretty and renovated and free of the Dark Arts.”
“Aw, man,” Fred says.
“Better leave the experimental exploding things in our pants,” George adds.
Fred opens his mouth to make a sexual joke, and Molly shoots a curse at him. He yelps and rubs his arm. “Um, Sorry, Ferret. Continue.”
Draco grins at them and continues, “So a series of toasts. First, Ginny and Oliver, congratulations. May you have many red-headed children that do not fall off broomsticks as much as Harry does.”
The crowd laughs and raises their glasses to Ginny and Oliver.
“Next, Weasel.” Draco tips his glass to Ron. He smiles, and then in a low voice starts singing “Weasley is our King.” Again the crowd laughs and half way through, they join in with the song, though Fred and George sing the not-so-nice lyrics. “Congratulations on making Keeper for the Cannons,” Draco says.
“Thanks, Ferret,” Ron says.
“And,” Draco says, looking at Pansy.
“Don’t you dare, Dra-“
“Congratulations to both of you for adding another Weasley to the world. I hope the child gets its looks from Pansy and doesn’t end up looking like a Weasel.”
Everything is silent and wide-eyed looks of shock are pointed at the blushing couple.
“What?” I shriek and it’s echoed by half the revelers.
Ron glares at Draco, and then at Pansy. “Thanks, Pans. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”
“He promised me he wouldn’t tell!” Pansy says, glaring at Draco.
It makes more sense to me why Pansy requested a glass of water at the beginning of the party.
Hermione breaks the circle and hugs Pansy tightly. “Congratulations.”
“T-thanks,” she says, hugging back. As others start to go to hug her too, Draco calls everyone to order.
“Hugs after the toasts,” Draco says. He turns to Little Teddy, who is practically asleep in Molly Weasley’s arms. “Happy Birthday to our youngest war veteran.”
Teddy doesn’t know what that means, but he beams and says, “Thank you, Uncca Draco.”
Draco smiles, and then moves to Hermione. “The brightest witch of our time, right?” he drawls.
Hermione rolls her eyes and makes an obscene gesture that has everyone laughing.
“Congratulations on your acceptance into the Charms Mastery and Arithmancy Mastery. May you never sleep again.”
“Hear, hear!” Ron says, raising his glass.
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t get that one up the duff?” Fred says, and earns another curse from Molly.
Ron and Hermione smile at each other.
Draco turns to the Weasley Twins as the laughter fades. “A new store in Hogsmeade is always worth a drink. Congratulations, and let me know when you need more money to make more sex toys. I’ll give you Harry’s account number.”
“We already have it, mate,” Fred says with a wink.
“What?” I demand.
Fred and George laugh along with everyone else.
Draco takes a deep breath. “Okay, so that’s it, I …”
More than one of us, me included, shout a denial.
“What? Who did I forget?”
“You,” I say. I raise my glass. “To Draco, for starting his Potions Mastery, the first step on his way to teaching at Hogwarts and scaring the shite out of first years for the rest of his life.”
“Hear! Hear!”
Draco smiles at me and we both drink.
After a moment, Draco sobers and then looks at the gathered friends again. “I think Harry should say this next part.”
I look at him, and then look at everyone else. It is fitting for me to make this speech, but I still hate it. I pause and think of how to start.
“Across town, the Ministry is holding a banquet in memory of the war. It is full of dignitaries, officials, and those who did not fight on the front lines. I guess most of our invitations were lost in the owl post, right?”
There were snickers all around us. I received an invitation, but Draco had not, nor had Pansy, nor the Weasleys.
“Many lives were lost in the war.”
The room quiets as we remember our friends.
“But here, at this place, they are remembered in the way they should be remembered, with a glass of rum and laughter from those who knew them best. If we took a drink for each of our friends that died in the war, we’d be drunk in only a few minutes, so please raise your glasses, join me in a moment of silence as we remember those that gave their lives for us to be free.”
Draco takes my hand and nods his approval at my short speech. It is quiet for a long time, and then I clear my throat. Voice choked, I say, “To them and to us.”
Everyone drinks. Everything is quiet for another moment and then slowly people start talking and breaking off into pairs. The women gather around Pansy, and the Twins rescue Ron from their raging mother.
“Can we disappear?” Draco whispers.
I look around the room and shrug. “You’re the party expert. Isn’t that a social faux pas to disappear at a party you’re hosting?”
“Yes. Let’s do it anyway.”
“Okay.”
We set our drinks on one of the trays charmed to take it to the kitchen and we leave the dining room. We pass a few people in the halls. Once on the stairs, Draco takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom.
Draco removes his tie and sits on the bed. I watch from the door as he roughly unbuttons his shirt. A couple of the buttons snap under the treatment. I undo a few buttons on my shirt and pull it over my head. Before going to the bed, I throw up a silencing spell, five locking charms and add a Confundus charm for good measure.
“Over kill,” Draco says and he lies back on the bed, feet still on the floor.
“Maybe,” I reply.
He flings an arm over his face, and doesn’t protest when I unclasp his slacks and take off the rest of his clothes. I run my hands over his thighs and hips, up his stomach to his chest. My fingertips brush over his nipples and he inhales.
“Harry?”
“Hm?” I lean over him and press a line of kisses on his breastbone.
“Make love to me.”
I freeze and then kiss his neck. “Okay.”
He grips my hair and pulls me to his mouth. I kneel on the edge of the bed, straddling his waist as our lips meet in a heavy kiss. His body is shaking, his lips are shaking.
I want to ask if he’s sure, if he’s ready, if he really wants this. But I know Draco and it will upset him, because if he didn’t want it, he would not have asked for it.
My cock is hard in my pants.
I undo the button and lower the zipper of my trousers. He pushes his hand into my pants and we both pull them off.
He sighs, eyes shut. Our kiss ends. He pushes his upper body off the bed and slides toward the middle. He rolls over, spread eagle, naked and gorgeous. I lick my lips. A wandless spell calls the lube from the bathroom where we last used it.
I crawl over him, kissing his feet and ankles, sliding my tongue up the smooth skin of his knee and the back of his thigh.
This isn’t the exact day the war ended. But this is the day when we destroyed Voldemort. We were both captured, because we were young and stupid. And Draco … Draco was more or less taken like nothing changed. He fought back with fists and nails, and they laughed at him as they threw Cruciatus Curses at him. Over and over until he was so weak.
I can’t remember ever being so angry at the Death Eaters. I’d seen them kill my friends, rip apart my family and destroy most of Hogwarts, but that is what set me off.
I’d been practicing wandless magic for months before this, and over and over, my instructors said I had to “FEEL” what I wanted.
It didn’t make sense until then. I wanted them to burn, I wanted them all to burn. And I felt it, on my skin, in my body, and with my blurry eyes turned on Draco’s tormentors, I shouted the spell for Fiendfyre. It ripped through the room, and only a few of them escaped. Draco and I barely managed to get out of that room. And when we tumbled outdoors, the war was all around us. I summoned our wands to us. Being so full of magic was odd, and Draco felt the aftereffect for weeks. It was a combination of the two our of magical signatures that produced a slashing curse effective enough for us to disable Voldemort and then Ron had been there with the Sword of Gryffindor.
I try not to relive hacking Voldemort to pieces.
“Harry?”
“Yes, love?”
“The only reason I don’t have that day permanently Obliviated from my mind is because of you.”
I smile and kiss the dip in his spine at his lower back. “Same here.”
He props up on his elbows. “I know you’re worried about me, love,” he says. “But I … I want this day to have a good memory, too. A happy one, one that will shine in comparison to that day.”
“Wow. Talk about pressure to perform.”
Draco laughs and rolls over. I crawl up him to his lips for a kiss. “Anything you can do to me will be better than that day.”
“Now that’s the truth.”
I settle over him. Our kiss deepens. His legs wrap around me. We both shudder as our erections slide together. We’ve been this way so many times, but this is different. It’s almost like since we’re going to be doing more, there’s less need to rush, less desperation between us. And yet, we’re both shaking so much that I don’t know who is more nervous.
Weeks or years or hours or moments later, I pull away from his lips. Our forehead press together and our breaths mingle as our hips slowly rock together. I turn my attention to his skin. His soft, pampered, aristocratic skin. I always feel a little unworthy when Draco lets me worship him.
I close my mouth around a pink nipple, sucking slightly and flicking the nub with my tongue.
“Hm, Harry?”
“Huh?” I ask as I move to the other nipple.
“Feels good.”
I smile and let my tongue run down his stomach, over twitching abs. I pause and lick at the scars decorating his chest. He hates it when I do this, but I ignore his protest and continue until each scar has been rectified and forgiven.
I caress the sharp edge of his hip bone and lick at the dip over and over until he’s squirming and almost laughing. This is how I love Draco the most, when he’s dropped his walls and he’s more or less normal. I won’t say this out loud, because he throws his walls back up when I do.
I lightly grip his cock and pull it away from his body. I lick his stomach first, where the head had rested. The tang of precome fills my mouth. I moan and close my mouth around the tip of his erection. He moans, trying to thrust up into my mouth. I tighten my hold with my hand and lick at the crown, over and around, tonguing the slit until Draco is begging me to do something.
I smirk and suck a few inches into my mouth. With my other hand, I trace the curves of his ass.
“Bloody fuck, Harry,” he practically shouts.
I let his cock fall back to his body with a smack. I smile up at him, fingers still at his ass. With my other hand, I open the bottle of lube and coat my fingers with it. Our eyes meet, and Draco’s gaze is bordering on panic. I won’t mind if he changes his mind. I kiss his knee, hoping he knows that.
His eyes shut and he lifts his legs, gripping behind his knees.
I stare at his body for a moment, lick my lips as his entrance clenches in anticipation. I slide my slick finger to the puckered skin, just touching and not pressing, not yet. I lean forward and lick his balls. My other hand grabs his cock again and the three sensations have him screaming my name again.
“Finger me, Harry,” he gasps, “Please.”
I push my finger into him; he cries out again. I rise up enough to put his cock into my mouth and cup his balls with my other hand. I finger him slowly, twisting and crooking my finger until the spasming stops and Draco begs for more. I add more lube.
We never use the spells for stretching and lubing automatically. Draco said once in an offhand conversation that it was so impersonal. I took the hint, knowing that it had to do with his experiences at the hands of the Death Eaters.
I wait until he’s more or less relaxed and then press in a second finger. This is as far as we’ve ever gone. It seems silly to stop right here, but at this point, I’m used to sucking Draco off and then either jerking off while Draco watches or getting a blow job in return.
I pull my mouth away from his cock, because I don’t want him to come until I’m inside him, and I want him to like it. I’m so worried that he’s going to go soft as soon as I push inside him. I kiss around his cock though, and continue playing with his balls as I spread and twist my fingers. A third pushes into him and his cock pulses, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to come anyway.
“Hurry, please, Harry, please,” he whispers.
I remove my fingers from his body and lean over him so I can kiss him. His chest is rising and falling fast.
“I want you to go at your own pace, so I’m going to be lazy and just lay back and let you ride me.”
Draco smirks, but there is a thankful look in his eyes.
I roll away and stretch. He’s kissing me a moment later, lips against my chest.
“I love you,” he says into my skin.
I run my fingers through his hair and tell him I love him.
He grabs the bottle of lube and dumps the cool liquid on my cock. His hand follows, and my eyes shut as he strokes me.
“Would you be terribly angry if I changed my mind?” Draco whispers.
I frown but shake my head. “No. Because you’ll get me off anyway.”
“Yeah.” He keeps stroking me. His other hand finds mine and our fingers entwine and squeeze.
Our lips meet, and my eyes open, locking with Draco’s gray eyes. He sighs and then smiles as he climbs over me, knees at my hips. Our hands lock together. We kiss again. He lowers his body and rocks against my body. We both moan.
Draco lies completely on top of me. I release one of his hands and put my arm around his body.
“I’m scared, Harry.”
“I know.”
“It’s like … I want you so much, but I don’t want to hate it.”
I smile and kiss his cheek, down his neck. He sighs and thrusts against my body. His hard cock slides over my stomach. He rises up enough to grip both of our erections.
I moan, eyes shutting tightly as he strokes slowly.
“I know you’d be happy with just this,” he says, lips against my chest now. “But I wouldn’t be. I want you. I want to be comfortable. We’re nineteen for Merlin’s sake and we have the lamest sex lives of any nineteen-year-old. I know that doesn’t matter,” he says when I open my mouth to say that, “It’s just … it’s one of those just jump in sort of things. I know I won’t hate it, I know every moment with you will be amazing, but … I …”
“I know, love,” I say and touch his face.
He leans into it and then turns his head to kiss my hand. “I think I need to get it over with. Get rid of the anticipation.”
I grip his hips and he lets me slide him back. He moans and suddenly pushes up, hands on my chest. My cock catches on his body and then slips back, between his cheeks. He gasps and rocks, and the slide is insane from all the lube.
“I-I’m about to come all over your ass,” I say, trying to think past my rising pleasure.
“Did you use the instant orgasm lube again?” he says, a drawl in his voice.
I smile and shake my head. “You’re just that fucking sexy.”
He smiles back and stops. He lowers his head, eyes shut and then reaches behind him. His fingers curl around my cock, lifting it, and his hips rise. He slides my cock up and down his cleft, and we both moan again while he teases us both. With a firm grip, he holds me steady against his entrance. My vision swims at the tight clench around my cock, and I hear his whimpers only though the haze as he slowly sits, taking most of me all the same time. He’s so tight and my fragile hold on my orgasm snaps and with only a single thrust into him, I’m coming hard and shouting his name.
He falls over me with a laugh and kisses my moans away. I try to recover, but he’s moving, riding me slow and the sensations on my sensitive cock are too much. I grab his hips, wanting to push him away. But he grabs my hands and our fingers entwine and he pins my hands above my head.
“You’ve had your pleasure, Potter. Now it’s my turn.”
I groan and lift my head for a kiss. He obliges and then moves faster, slamming his body down over and over. Part of me is worried about hurting him, after so long without sex, but his hard cock is bouncing while he rides me and his normally pale skin is pink with pleasure and need. His thighs shake, and his arms tremble.
I pull a hand away from his and wrap it around his body. Carefully, I lower him to the bed, to his back, and kneel between his legs. He whines and spreads his legs for me. I hold him with a hand behind his knee and push back into his body. His hands go above his head, fisting the blanket in a white-knuckled grip. He thrashes back and forth, whining my name as I thrust into him harder.
The squelch of my cock in his body is obscene, almost dirty. His cock is pulsing precome all over his stomach. I wrap my hand around him and stroke, eyes on his face. I am looking for discomfort, but all I see is desperation and pleasure.
“H-harder,” he gasps, “harder!”
I shiver and slam into him harder. He throws his head back, crying out my name, and pumps heavy white strands of come all over his chest and stomach.
I gasp, almost collapsing as his entrance clenches around me. I slow, only enough to make sure that he’s all right.
He shakes his head. “No, no, more. Keep … more …”
I smile and press a kiss to his open mouth. “How much more?”
“Lots. A lot more.”
“I have no problem with that.”
“Sex fiend.”
“Yeah, pretty much. May I continue?”
“Gods, yes.”
I speed back up, capture his moans in a long series of kisses. It doesn’t take much longer for another orgasm to crash through us, but Draco is rarely satisfied so easily, and in my orgasmic daze, he pushes me over and I land on my back and he’s riding me again. I stare unabashedly at him, at his crazy hair, and the drops of sweat mixing with come and lube between us. I don’t think I’ll ever get to see him this unkempt and I smile, but he scowls at me like he knows what I’m thinking and I pull him down to me and kiss him hard, needy and full of love.
I lose track of how often our positions change, of how often he begs for more or cries out my name. I’m pretty sure I come five times, but even that is all in a blur of kisses and sweat and moans. Even as Draco’s body is spent beneath me, his tired eyes are asking for me to continue. I think I promise him more in the morning, but it is morning and the sky is gray with dawn.
“Sleep, Draco,” I whisper and kiss him softly. “Just sleep.”
“Can’t … don’t … more, please.”
I gather him against me, his back to my chest, my cock still buried in his body. He sags against me, arm reaching behind to hold me. I know he’ll be asleep in a moment, and when we wake up, I’m pretty sure he’ll deny begging me like he did.
I whisper an, “I love you,” into his neck, and his lips flutter in a smile. He’s too far asleep to return it, but I don’t need him to say it out loud all the time. His smile is enough. His smile is worth it all.
Part 3: Grateful Moments
Part 2: Painful Moments
Part 1: Awkward Moments
.