What Time Can't Erase 4/7
Title: What Time Can't Erase 4/7
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These definitely aren't mine. Characters and the plots of the Harry Potter series are property of JK Rowling.
Summary: Harry Potter is an average New York City cop. A not-so-average blond man and a frustrating case have Harry questioning everything. This fic is not AU, even if the summary makes it sound like it. It falls under the Harry Potter fanfic classification of EWE (epilogue, what epilogue?)
A/N: I have no idea how long ago I started writing it. But well, now it's finished, so ... enjoy.
Part 4:
Without more words, Draco gestured Harry to sit. Harry did, and then his eyes shut as those long fingers explored his face, tracing along his lightning scar and a few others. He made a small sound of protest when soft lips followed the fingers, but he couldn’t move. He waited, breath gasping in the silence as Draco kissed his face. The kisses continued along his jaw and down his neck. The nimble fingers danced under the collar of the jacket, moving toward shoulder and down his arms. Harry shrugged out of it as Draco’s mouth licked up the shell of his ear.
Did Harry want this? He scoffed internally. Duh. But like this? So gentle, so hesitant. It was almost like Draco was just waiting for him to realize that he hated Draco, and then bolt. But he didn’t hate Draco. He didn’t know Draco well enough to hate him. There was something there that definitely wasn’t lust or affection. A bit of annoyance perhaps, but nothing as strong as hate.
Draco demanded a kiss that broke Harry’s thoughts. The soft fingers turned to groping hands and Harry’s sweater was removed. Draco pushed Harry back onto the bed. And then the softness came back. Harry, with his feet still on the floor, spread his legs as Draco slithered down his body and ended up kneeling. Those pale fingers lightly teased his nipples, while those soft lips and tongue explored his chest and stomach. Harry groaned a protest.
Malfoy on his knees. Harry didn’t think it was possible.
“Fuck, Draco.”
“Ah, I see I’m doing my job right if you’re already cursing my name.”
Draco moved his fingers to Harry’s pants. “I love these trousers, Harry,” he said as his fingers unclasped them. “They’re even tailored to fit you properly.”
“What’s the line?” Harry gasped. “They’ll look better on your floor?”
Draco laughed. “Let’s see about that.”
His socks and shoes were removed and then he lifted up a bit so Draco could remove his pants.
Draco clicked his tongue. “You’re right. They do look better there. Although, it’s missing something. Ah ha!” Rough hands grabbed the band of his boxer briefs and Harry was suddenly naked.
“Perfect,” Draco crooned. “Now the pants and trousers can canoodle happily on the floor while I have my way with you on the bed.”
Harry laughed and scooted up on the bed. “I can’t believe you just said canoodle.”
“Yeah, a bit out of character for me,” Draco said and followed after him, kneeling between his spread legs, “What can I say? I’m picking up your plebian ways.”
Harry’s laughter turned to a quiet moan as Draco blew gently on his exposed erection. “Oh, fuck.”
Draco’s lips just barely pressed against the warm skin of Harry’s cock. The tip of his tongue barely touched him. Harry arched up into with a loud moan, but Draco pulled away. He settled fingers on his thighs and stroked loose circles, up to each side of his cock and then further along his stomach. Again, his soft lips followed, first up one side and then the other. Harry thought he was going to come right then.
“Oh, God, Draco.”
“I haven’t even started yet,” he breathed and then ran his tongue up Harry’s cock.
Harry arched up with a ragged moan. “Then fucking start, more, god, please more.”
His tongue wrapped around the pliant head and then his mouth followed, sucking lightly while his hand stroked the length. Harry keened. His knees bent, toes clenching the overly expensive sheets. Draco only teased for a few seconds, and then he pulled away, Harry took a deep breath of relief. His orgasm cooled enough that he wouldn’t embarrass himself. Draco laid his body on top of Harry’s and their lips met. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and lowered him to his back.
Draco smiled and said, “Don’t you wish there was a way that just banish my clothes so I could be naked already?”
“I could tear them off,” Harry said, reaching for the shirt. “That’ll be quicker.”
Draco caught his wrists. “Don’t you dare ruin my shirt, Potter.”
Harry laughed. “Then take it off.”
Draco rolled his eyes and shoved Harry away from him. Harry laughed and fell to his side, head propped up on his elbows. Draco sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry enjoyed the revelation of all the pale skin. There were a few places on his back and chest and arms that were even lighter than the others. Scars. Harry knew what they looked like because of the ones that riddled his body. Their first round of sex hadn’t included a slow exploration of bodies. Unable to help himself, he traced a very thin scar that ran along Draco’s lower back.
“Bad childhood, huh?”
Draco’s pale eyes held his for a moment and he nodded. “It is never a good idea to infuriate my father.”
“Men like that deserve to be in prison.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Potter,” Draco said while shucking off his pants and boxers. “I’d really rather not discuss my father when you’re lying naked in my bed.”
Harry chuckled. “Sorry. What did you call it, a hero complex?”
“Well, you’ve already saved me, so really, can you give me an orgasm now?”
Harry frowned. “Saved you?”
Draco smirked and crawled over to Harry and kissed him. “Yes, you did. Weasley, the daft bugger, was well on his way to cornering me into a meeting I didn’t want to go to. Luckily for me,” Draco ran his finger up Harry’s chest and pressed him to the bed, “I had something planned.”
Harry continued to frown, thinking of the man straddling his waist, but as a child, just a boy being bent to his father’s ways. It was too easy to picture the arrogance, the slick back blond hair. The permanent smirk on his face. But it wasn’t right to have to be like that at such a young age.
Draco kissed him, and Harry pulled away after only a press of lips. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the prominent scar across Draco’s chest. “I would have saved you then, if I could.”
Draco stared at him intensely.
Harry met his eyes.
“That particular scar,” Draco said, “was not given to me by my father, but a fellow classmate intent on seeing me dead.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Fuck, Draco, what kind of place is England? Lawless and full of barbarians?”
“Dueling is hardly barbaric. Unless you count this particular round of dueling.” Draco reached behind him and grabbed Harry’s dick.
Harry shut his eyes and moaned.
“Are you going to top tonight, Potter?”
“Are you going to call me Harry, Malfoy?”
“So I’m topping, then. Right. Flip over.”
Harry laughed and yanked Draco down to his lips for a kiss. Harry gave up control of the kiss right away. A large part of him still questioned the judgment in that, but it’d turned out pretty damn well the last time they fucked.
Draco pulled away. “Come on. I want to be inside you.”
Harry propped up on his elbows and twisted his waist. Draco moved far enough away that Harry could turn over. To his left, a drawer opened, and then shut, a bit quickly and Harry hadn’t even felt Draco move. Harry turned his head, and looked at Draco, and Draco only smirked back, covering his fingers in lube.
Harry figured Draco was just as eager as he was and spread his legs a bit.
Two fingers pressed into his body and unlike last time, they didn’t quiver or shake. Draco was in utter control of himself and Harry shut his eyes and felt it. This was more like it. Draco pumping his fingers in and out of Harry, stretched oh so slowly while Draco leaned over his body and chewed on the muscles of his back. Harry was certain he’d have a fair scattering of marks tomorrow.
Draco’s marks. Possessed and taken by Malfoy.
A tingle of caution coursed up his spine, and then Draco’s fingers twisted and a third joined the play and Harry moaned, and told his brain to shut up and enjoy the attention. Harry lifted his hips from the bed. Draco massaged his ass and spread his fingers.
“Just fuck me, Draco,” Harry begged into the bed. “Please.”
Draco chuckled. “Fine, although you’re taking this in control from the bottom thing a bit far.”
“As if you don’t want to be fucking my ass right now.”
“Point.”
Draco slid his slick erection up and down the cleft of Harry’s ass. Harry mewled and bent his knees, drawing them under his body. Draco gripped his hip with one hand and used the other to position his cock. He pressed in slowly, pausing with just the head inside the tight ring of muscles. Harry moaned and thrust back, taking him further.
Draco cursed, gripped both of Harry’s ass cheeks and finished burying himself inside Harry.
Harry moaned, shifting his knees for a more comfortable position. “Move, you bloody wanker.”
Draco spanked him once, tearing a whimper from Harry’s throat, and then Draco moved, in and out, rolling his hips on the pull out and slamming back in roughly. Harry clawed at the pillow with one hand and his other curled around his cock and he stroked himself to the same tempo that Draco set. His ass clenched around Draco’s cock, and Draco muttered a litany of more curses, fighting not to speed up. Harry lost the fight and stroked his cock as fast as he could. His release teased him, ebbing and flowing with the motions.
“Damn it, Potter,” Draco snapped. “You’re ruining my finesse.”
“Fuck your finesse,” Harry replied and then moaned loud. “Harder, fuck me harder, Draco, please.”
Draco snorted and Harry almost collapsed to the bed as his orgasm shot from him and covered the highly expensive linens in white. Draco sped up and pumped in and out him for just a couple more minutes before shuddering through his own release.
Harry took a deep breath, smile on his face and didn’t mind when Draco leaned over his back for a kiss. His hips jerked, cock moving in a slow drag in and out of his body.
“You’re not much of a foreplay kind of a guy, are you?” Draco asked.
Harry smiled and turned. Draco slipped from his body and he moaned. “Impatient.”
“Typical of your sort, I guess.”
“My sort?”
“Randy, horny, and roars like a lion when you come.”
Harry laughed and easily found a warm spot against Draco’s body. Draco ran his hands up and down Harry’s arm, pulling him close. “In a few minutes, you can foreplay me all you want. The first round it always too frantic.”
Draco smiled and their lips met in a short kiss. Harry buried his face in Draco’s neck and lay there. His breathing slowed and his skin stopped twitching.
“Potter?”
“Huh?”
“Do you ever pass judgment on someone, and then later realize that the person is nothing like you thought they’d be and you’re almost disappointed?”
Harry didn’t bother opening his eyes, but he tightened his hold around Draco’s waist. “And what did you expect me to be?”
Draco didn’t answer for a long time. Maybe it had been a hypothetical question.
“Broken,” Draco finally whispered. “I thought you’d be broken.”
“And yet you approached me anyway.”
“I have very poor judgment.”
“So getting involved with me was a mistake?”
“You have a horrible habit of putting words into people’s mouths, Potter.”
“You have a horrible habit of thinking you’re better than everyone else.”
Draco smirked. “I concede that, but no, it was not a mistake. My colleagues and hell, even my father, probably think it is, but I’m honestly happy.”
Harry tilted his head to the side. None of this made sense at all. But Harry needed to learn not to over analyze everything anyway. He pressed a kiss to the curve of Draco’s jaw. “I’m happy, too.”
“Lucky. You’re lucky.”
“I am.”
“You ready for round two?”
Harry laughed and pushed Draco to the bed. He straddled his lap, put his hands on his chest and said, “Is that a challenge?”
“Always.”
--/--
Harry was alarmed again at how easy it was to fall asleep next to Draco.
Scattered dreams plagued him through the night. Blond hair. Lots of blond hair. Blood and a deep wound across a pale chest. Fire and wind. Again. Arms around his waist. Blinding pain tore through his forehead, in the dream, he thought, until he woke up and it was still there
“Potter.”
Harry turned his head and glared at Draco.
“Wow, what is that look for?”
Harry didn’t know. Hate, loathing, things that he shouldn’t feel when he was sharing a bed with a man. He rubbed his eyes.
“Nightmare,” Harry finally said. He flinched when Draco touched his back.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I’m not five. It was just a nightmare.”
Draco tugged on his arm. “Lay back down.”
Harry sighed and shook his head. “I’m going to go home.”
“Potter, it’s four in the morning.”
“And I won’t get back to sleep, and I have to be in the station at six.”
“On Saturday?”
“Criminals don’t catch themselves.”
“The stupid ones do.”
Harry smiled. “True.” He stood up and turned on the lamp on the bed stand.
“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually complaining.”
“What?”
Harry didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He felt like he hated Draco, hated him with a boiling fury and only stopped himself from killing him because it was against the law. He had no reason to hate Draco, none at all, but it was there. He couldn’t even look at the man without wanting to gouge his eyes out.
He had to get away from him and alone and try to figure out his thoughts.
“Don’t make plans tomorrow,” Draco said. “I’ll pick you up for coffee.”
Harry sighed and slipped on his pants. “I can’t, Draco. I have to solve this case.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “She’s dead, you know.”
“I know. We need to find evidence to prove it.”
“You need to come back to bed and sleep in.”
“You need to let me do my job!”
Draco stared at him.
Harry muttered an apology for shouting.
“You don’t like me,” Draco said.
Harry looked away. “I don’t know you.”
“You know enough, and you don’t want to know more.”
“I’m really stressed out right now.” Harry found his sweater on the floor and pulled it on. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “I can’t … this is why I don’t get involved when I’m in the middle of a case. I get stressed out and take it out on people who are close to me. You don’t deserve it.”
“Neither do you.”
Cool fingers slipped under his shirt and along the top of his pants. Harry flinched. His emotions were so conflicted. The thought of Draco touching him disgusted him. But he craved it, and his smiles, and his stupid snarky British-ness.
“Nothing makes sense when it comes to you,” Harry said. “Just … let me work on this case, and I’ll call you.”
Draco snorted. “That’s a horrible way to tell someone to fuck off, Potter.”
Harry turned and stood up, and Draco’s hand fell to the bed. The blanket was barely covering his hips. His hair was a mess and in his face, and part of Harry wanted nothing more than to climb back in bed and turn those pale lips a deep red with kisses. Instead, he picked up his sport coat, slipped it on and headed for the door.
Draco huffed behind him and Harry heard him collapse on the bed, but Draco didn’t call him back. Harry made his way through Draco’s ostentatious apartment and left. He barely noticed the trickling sensation down his back when stepping through the foyer. In the elevator, he shut his eyes, trying to figure out his emotions toward Draco. Resentment and hatred? Those didn’t make sense. Harry didn’t know him well enough to hate him. But the more he got to know him, the stronger this hate grew. But it didn’t feel right. It felt superficial and habitual, sort of like how someone just hates a certain food. Or mosquitoes. Annoying pesky mosquitoes that you don’t mind swatting at when they land on you.
That sinking feeling of maybe actually knowing Draco came back. All the things he said that made it seem like they knew one another, all tossed away with a casual remark.
Harry didn’t think he’d forget someone like Draco. Even as a one night stand.
“Good morning, Mister. Potter,” the doorman said.
“Good morning, um sorry.”
“Davis.”
“Right. Good morning, Davis.”
“Do you need a cab?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to walk.”
“Have a nice walk, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Davis hit the buzzer and opened the door for Harry to exit.
It was a long walk, but Harry didn’t care. It also unfortunately didn’t clear his head at all and he was even more confused when he finally stumbled into his apartment. He showered and shaved and dressed for work. He grabbed his regular cup of coffee from the vendor on the corner and then lost himself in the case.
“What’s wrong, Harry?” Kat asked a few hours after lunch.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. Then I’ll guess. Malfoy?”
Harry said nothing, but his mouth tightened.
“Date not go well?”
“The date went fine.”
“Oh, and?”
“And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You come too soon?”
Harry glared up at her smile. “No.”
“Talk, Potter.”
Harry sighed and threw his pen onto his desk. “I can’t shake this feeling that I know him. It’s making me anxious and I feel like he’s lying to me. I’ve always been a good judge of character, but he’s playing me and I hate it.”
“That is a lot of feelings all mixed together.”
“Yeah. And I keep having dreams about flying and fire and blood. I know those are work related, but Draco keeps popping up in them. But not this Draco but a younger Draco, like a teenaged Draco.”
Kat raised an eyebrow.
“Please don’t make a perverted remark about that.”
Her lips quirked. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Liar. It was almost like he was supposed to be there when all these dreams happened.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to solve this case so I can figure out what’s going on with Draco.”
“Do you know what I think, Harry?”
“What?”
“I think you’re afraid to let yourself like this guy. You’ve always been worried about having people close to you get hurt or afraid you’ll neglect someone because of your job. And now that you have someone that you really, really like, you’re making up excuses on why you shouldn’t be with him.”
Harry scowled and went back to the list of places that they had already searched for more information on Barnes, cross checking it with the list of purchases made on his credit card over the last year.
“No defense.”
“No. That’s definitely part of it, but the rest of it … Draco irritates me beyond all reason, and he hasn’t done anything to irritate me. I’m just confused.”
“Don’t discount your feelings, Harry. You are an excellent judge of character.”
Kat gripped his shoulder and then left him alone. Harry went back to work. Even if he was stressed and even if this case was frustrating, Harry knew better than to stick around the station for more than twelve hours a day. He knew better, but that didn’t mean he went home at a decent time. It was almost nine when he walked up the stairs to his apartment.
And froze.
His door was open, forming a strand of light in the slightly darkened hallway. Harry pulled out his gun from under his jacket and disabled the safety. With a loose grip, he went down the hall on silent feet. His skin shivered, like he’d stepped through water. It was the same feeling when he’d been in Malfoy’s apartment.
Harry stopped, listening, waiting.
Nothing.
He moved to the edge of the door and stuck his head barely around the frame.
A noise. In the kitchen.
He pushed the door open. Senses on high alert, he went into his apartment, and movement to his left had him spinning and aiming his gun.
“Fuck, Potter.”
“Fuck, Malfoy,” Harry said and immediately pulled the gun up. He put the safety on. “How the hell did you get into my house?”
Draco rolled his eyes and said, “Your lock is horrible.”
“I have one of the best locks in the industry.”
“Did the locksmith tell you that?” he asked with that usual smirk and disdain.
“What are you doing here?”
Draco waved a hand over his shoulder, to where he’d moved Harry’s kitchen table. It was decorated with a tablecloth that Harry didn’t own, two candles and two plates of dinner.
Harry waited to feel excited, but all he felt was annoyance. Okay, and it was pretty sweet, but honestly.
“You don’t go breaking into people’s houses to make them dinner.”
“I don’t. I’ve only broken into your house to make your dinner.”
“Look, I appreciate it, really, but-”
“Bugger off, I get it.”
“This is … just … very … I don’t know. It’s not you, I know that.”
“How do you know that?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know. I just do! Why the hell-”
Draco held up a hand. “Do you want to eat first, or shower first? You’ve had a long day. Unproductive, too I warrant.”
“Yeah. I’m really too stressed out for this. I’m sorry.”
Draco smiled and moved into Harry’s space. He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed when Draco’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and he pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Go shower. I’ll be gone when you get out, I promise.”
Harry quickly hugged him. “No, I’m sorry. Don’t go.”
“You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Potter. I know where I’m not wanted.”
Harry pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, and then said, “Please stay. You went to all this effort and I truly appreciate it. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
“Just enough time to finish things up.”
Harry let him go and headed to the bathroom.
It was pretty sweet. He’d never had someone make him dinner for when he got home from work. He was still pissed at finding his home invaded, but he was even more pissed that it wasn’t Barnes or someone out for revenge. He needed something to happen. Something soon. He was getting more anxious and irritable as the days went by without a break in the case.
The light was off in his bathroom, and instead there were two lamps, one by the sink the other on the back of the toilet. The light was dim, but enough to see what he needed to see. A brand new, soft bathmat was on the floor and matching towels hung on the rack. A deep red bathrobe was hanging from a hook on the back of the door.
There was a note on the counter, written on thick, fancy paper, like what they would use in the time of castles and dungeons. The writing was, of course, in perfect, flowing script.
Potter Darling---
Harry snorted.
I took the liberty of replacing the shit you use to wash your hair and body. Consider it a gift if you must, but really, it’s more of a necessity. You don’t have to thank me, although, to show your gratitude, I would accept the chance of running my hands through that unmanageable mop of hair after it has been conditioned properly.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy
“Ponce,” Harry said affectionately.
With the dim lights, and the warm water, and the new soap and the new towels and the bathrobe, Harry felt more relaxed than he ever had after he’d taken a shower. He left the bathroom in nothing but the bathrobe and found Draco at the table sipping on a glass of wine. Harry did not have wine in his apartment.
Harry took the glass of wine from his fingers and downed the rest of it. He set the glass on the table, ignoring Draco’s noise of disdain and mutter about savoring something so pure. And whatever else he said was lost in a kiss and Draco’s clothes were discarded somewhere between the chair and the floor, and Harry’s new robe was soft on his back, a comfortable barrier between his skin and the carpet.
And Harry let Draco take his time. Let Draco play and tease, until Harry was breathless, his knee hooked on Draco’s shoulder, body arching into each of his gentle thrusts while he covered his chest in come.
Part 5: A Soul of Confusion
Part 3: A Night of Questions
Part 2: A Reoccurence of Dreams
Part 1: A Meeting of Equals
.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These definitely aren't mine. Characters and the plots of the Harry Potter series are property of JK Rowling.
Summary: Harry Potter is an average New York City cop. A not-so-average blond man and a frustrating case have Harry questioning everything. This fic is not AU, even if the summary makes it sound like it. It falls under the Harry Potter fanfic classification of EWE (epilogue, what epilogue?)
A/N: I have no idea how long ago I started writing it. But well, now it's finished, so ... enjoy.
Part 4:
Without more words, Draco gestured Harry to sit. Harry did, and then his eyes shut as those long fingers explored his face, tracing along his lightning scar and a few others. He made a small sound of protest when soft lips followed the fingers, but he couldn’t move. He waited, breath gasping in the silence as Draco kissed his face. The kisses continued along his jaw and down his neck. The nimble fingers danced under the collar of the jacket, moving toward shoulder and down his arms. Harry shrugged out of it as Draco’s mouth licked up the shell of his ear.
Did Harry want this? He scoffed internally. Duh. But like this? So gentle, so hesitant. It was almost like Draco was just waiting for him to realize that he hated Draco, and then bolt. But he didn’t hate Draco. He didn’t know Draco well enough to hate him. There was something there that definitely wasn’t lust or affection. A bit of annoyance perhaps, but nothing as strong as hate.
Draco demanded a kiss that broke Harry’s thoughts. The soft fingers turned to groping hands and Harry’s sweater was removed. Draco pushed Harry back onto the bed. And then the softness came back. Harry, with his feet still on the floor, spread his legs as Draco slithered down his body and ended up kneeling. Those pale fingers lightly teased his nipples, while those soft lips and tongue explored his chest and stomach. Harry groaned a protest.
Malfoy on his knees. Harry didn’t think it was possible.
“Fuck, Draco.”
“Ah, I see I’m doing my job right if you’re already cursing my name.”
Draco moved his fingers to Harry’s pants. “I love these trousers, Harry,” he said as his fingers unclasped them. “They’re even tailored to fit you properly.”
“What’s the line?” Harry gasped. “They’ll look better on your floor?”
Draco laughed. “Let’s see about that.”
His socks and shoes were removed and then he lifted up a bit so Draco could remove his pants.
Draco clicked his tongue. “You’re right. They do look better there. Although, it’s missing something. Ah ha!” Rough hands grabbed the band of his boxer briefs and Harry was suddenly naked.
“Perfect,” Draco crooned. “Now the pants and trousers can canoodle happily on the floor while I have my way with you on the bed.”
Harry laughed and scooted up on the bed. “I can’t believe you just said canoodle.”
“Yeah, a bit out of character for me,” Draco said and followed after him, kneeling between his spread legs, “What can I say? I’m picking up your plebian ways.”
Harry’s laughter turned to a quiet moan as Draco blew gently on his exposed erection. “Oh, fuck.”
Draco’s lips just barely pressed against the warm skin of Harry’s cock. The tip of his tongue barely touched him. Harry arched up into with a loud moan, but Draco pulled away. He settled fingers on his thighs and stroked loose circles, up to each side of his cock and then further along his stomach. Again, his soft lips followed, first up one side and then the other. Harry thought he was going to come right then.
“Oh, God, Draco.”
“I haven’t even started yet,” he breathed and then ran his tongue up Harry’s cock.
Harry arched up with a ragged moan. “Then fucking start, more, god, please more.”
His tongue wrapped around the pliant head and then his mouth followed, sucking lightly while his hand stroked the length. Harry keened. His knees bent, toes clenching the overly expensive sheets. Draco only teased for a few seconds, and then he pulled away, Harry took a deep breath of relief. His orgasm cooled enough that he wouldn’t embarrass himself. Draco laid his body on top of Harry’s and their lips met. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and lowered him to his back.
Draco smiled and said, “Don’t you wish there was a way that just banish my clothes so I could be naked already?”
“I could tear them off,” Harry said, reaching for the shirt. “That’ll be quicker.”
Draco caught his wrists. “Don’t you dare ruin my shirt, Potter.”
Harry laughed. “Then take it off.”
Draco rolled his eyes and shoved Harry away from him. Harry laughed and fell to his side, head propped up on his elbows. Draco sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry enjoyed the revelation of all the pale skin. There were a few places on his back and chest and arms that were even lighter than the others. Scars. Harry knew what they looked like because of the ones that riddled his body. Their first round of sex hadn’t included a slow exploration of bodies. Unable to help himself, he traced a very thin scar that ran along Draco’s lower back.
“Bad childhood, huh?”
Draco’s pale eyes held his for a moment and he nodded. “It is never a good idea to infuriate my father.”
“Men like that deserve to be in prison.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Potter,” Draco said while shucking off his pants and boxers. “I’d really rather not discuss my father when you’re lying naked in my bed.”
Harry chuckled. “Sorry. What did you call it, a hero complex?”
“Well, you’ve already saved me, so really, can you give me an orgasm now?”
Harry frowned. “Saved you?”
Draco smirked and crawled over to Harry and kissed him. “Yes, you did. Weasley, the daft bugger, was well on his way to cornering me into a meeting I didn’t want to go to. Luckily for me,” Draco ran his finger up Harry’s chest and pressed him to the bed, “I had something planned.”
Harry continued to frown, thinking of the man straddling his waist, but as a child, just a boy being bent to his father’s ways. It was too easy to picture the arrogance, the slick back blond hair. The permanent smirk on his face. But it wasn’t right to have to be like that at such a young age.
Draco kissed him, and Harry pulled away after only a press of lips. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the prominent scar across Draco’s chest. “I would have saved you then, if I could.”
Draco stared at him intensely.
Harry met his eyes.
“That particular scar,” Draco said, “was not given to me by my father, but a fellow classmate intent on seeing me dead.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Fuck, Draco, what kind of place is England? Lawless and full of barbarians?”
“Dueling is hardly barbaric. Unless you count this particular round of dueling.” Draco reached behind him and grabbed Harry’s dick.
Harry shut his eyes and moaned.
“Are you going to top tonight, Potter?”
“Are you going to call me Harry, Malfoy?”
“So I’m topping, then. Right. Flip over.”
Harry laughed and yanked Draco down to his lips for a kiss. Harry gave up control of the kiss right away. A large part of him still questioned the judgment in that, but it’d turned out pretty damn well the last time they fucked.
Draco pulled away. “Come on. I want to be inside you.”
Harry propped up on his elbows and twisted his waist. Draco moved far enough away that Harry could turn over. To his left, a drawer opened, and then shut, a bit quickly and Harry hadn’t even felt Draco move. Harry turned his head, and looked at Draco, and Draco only smirked back, covering his fingers in lube.
Harry figured Draco was just as eager as he was and spread his legs a bit.
Two fingers pressed into his body and unlike last time, they didn’t quiver or shake. Draco was in utter control of himself and Harry shut his eyes and felt it. This was more like it. Draco pumping his fingers in and out of Harry, stretched oh so slowly while Draco leaned over his body and chewed on the muscles of his back. Harry was certain he’d have a fair scattering of marks tomorrow.
Draco’s marks. Possessed and taken by Malfoy.
A tingle of caution coursed up his spine, and then Draco’s fingers twisted and a third joined the play and Harry moaned, and told his brain to shut up and enjoy the attention. Harry lifted his hips from the bed. Draco massaged his ass and spread his fingers.
“Just fuck me, Draco,” Harry begged into the bed. “Please.”
Draco chuckled. “Fine, although you’re taking this in control from the bottom thing a bit far.”
“As if you don’t want to be fucking my ass right now.”
“Point.”
Draco slid his slick erection up and down the cleft of Harry’s ass. Harry mewled and bent his knees, drawing them under his body. Draco gripped his hip with one hand and used the other to position his cock. He pressed in slowly, pausing with just the head inside the tight ring of muscles. Harry moaned and thrust back, taking him further.
Draco cursed, gripped both of Harry’s ass cheeks and finished burying himself inside Harry.
Harry moaned, shifting his knees for a more comfortable position. “Move, you bloody wanker.”
Draco spanked him once, tearing a whimper from Harry’s throat, and then Draco moved, in and out, rolling his hips on the pull out and slamming back in roughly. Harry clawed at the pillow with one hand and his other curled around his cock and he stroked himself to the same tempo that Draco set. His ass clenched around Draco’s cock, and Draco muttered a litany of more curses, fighting not to speed up. Harry lost the fight and stroked his cock as fast as he could. His release teased him, ebbing and flowing with the motions.
“Damn it, Potter,” Draco snapped. “You’re ruining my finesse.”
“Fuck your finesse,” Harry replied and then moaned loud. “Harder, fuck me harder, Draco, please.”
Draco snorted and Harry almost collapsed to the bed as his orgasm shot from him and covered the highly expensive linens in white. Draco sped up and pumped in and out him for just a couple more minutes before shuddering through his own release.
Harry took a deep breath, smile on his face and didn’t mind when Draco leaned over his back for a kiss. His hips jerked, cock moving in a slow drag in and out of his body.
“You’re not much of a foreplay kind of a guy, are you?” Draco asked.
Harry smiled and turned. Draco slipped from his body and he moaned. “Impatient.”
“Typical of your sort, I guess.”
“My sort?”
“Randy, horny, and roars like a lion when you come.”
Harry laughed and easily found a warm spot against Draco’s body. Draco ran his hands up and down Harry’s arm, pulling him close. “In a few minutes, you can foreplay me all you want. The first round it always too frantic.”
Draco smiled and their lips met in a short kiss. Harry buried his face in Draco’s neck and lay there. His breathing slowed and his skin stopped twitching.
“Potter?”
“Huh?”
“Do you ever pass judgment on someone, and then later realize that the person is nothing like you thought they’d be and you’re almost disappointed?”
Harry didn’t bother opening his eyes, but he tightened his hold around Draco’s waist. “And what did you expect me to be?”
Draco didn’t answer for a long time. Maybe it had been a hypothetical question.
“Broken,” Draco finally whispered. “I thought you’d be broken.”
“And yet you approached me anyway.”
“I have very poor judgment.”
“So getting involved with me was a mistake?”
“You have a horrible habit of putting words into people’s mouths, Potter.”
“You have a horrible habit of thinking you’re better than everyone else.”
Draco smirked. “I concede that, but no, it was not a mistake. My colleagues and hell, even my father, probably think it is, but I’m honestly happy.”
Harry tilted his head to the side. None of this made sense at all. But Harry needed to learn not to over analyze everything anyway. He pressed a kiss to the curve of Draco’s jaw. “I’m happy, too.”
“Lucky. You’re lucky.”
“I am.”
“You ready for round two?”
Harry laughed and pushed Draco to the bed. He straddled his lap, put his hands on his chest and said, “Is that a challenge?”
“Always.”
--/--
Harry was alarmed again at how easy it was to fall asleep next to Draco.
Scattered dreams plagued him through the night. Blond hair. Lots of blond hair. Blood and a deep wound across a pale chest. Fire and wind. Again. Arms around his waist. Blinding pain tore through his forehead, in the dream, he thought, until he woke up and it was still there
“Potter.”
Harry turned his head and glared at Draco.
“Wow, what is that look for?”
Harry didn’t know. Hate, loathing, things that he shouldn’t feel when he was sharing a bed with a man. He rubbed his eyes.
“Nightmare,” Harry finally said. He flinched when Draco touched his back.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I’m not five. It was just a nightmare.”
Draco tugged on his arm. “Lay back down.”
Harry sighed and shook his head. “I’m going to go home.”
“Potter, it’s four in the morning.”
“And I won’t get back to sleep, and I have to be in the station at six.”
“On Saturday?”
“Criminals don’t catch themselves.”
“The stupid ones do.”
Harry smiled. “True.” He stood up and turned on the lamp on the bed stand.
“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually complaining.”
“What?”
Harry didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He felt like he hated Draco, hated him with a boiling fury and only stopped himself from killing him because it was against the law. He had no reason to hate Draco, none at all, but it was there. He couldn’t even look at the man without wanting to gouge his eyes out.
He had to get away from him and alone and try to figure out his thoughts.
“Don’t make plans tomorrow,” Draco said. “I’ll pick you up for coffee.”
Harry sighed and slipped on his pants. “I can’t, Draco. I have to solve this case.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “She’s dead, you know.”
“I know. We need to find evidence to prove it.”
“You need to come back to bed and sleep in.”
“You need to let me do my job!”
Draco stared at him.
Harry muttered an apology for shouting.
“You don’t like me,” Draco said.
Harry looked away. “I don’t know you.”
“You know enough, and you don’t want to know more.”
“I’m really stressed out right now.” Harry found his sweater on the floor and pulled it on. He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. “I can’t … this is why I don’t get involved when I’m in the middle of a case. I get stressed out and take it out on people who are close to me. You don’t deserve it.”
“Neither do you.”
Cool fingers slipped under his shirt and along the top of his pants. Harry flinched. His emotions were so conflicted. The thought of Draco touching him disgusted him. But he craved it, and his smiles, and his stupid snarky British-ness.
“Nothing makes sense when it comes to you,” Harry said. “Just … let me work on this case, and I’ll call you.”
Draco snorted. “That’s a horrible way to tell someone to fuck off, Potter.”
Harry turned and stood up, and Draco’s hand fell to the bed. The blanket was barely covering his hips. His hair was a mess and in his face, and part of Harry wanted nothing more than to climb back in bed and turn those pale lips a deep red with kisses. Instead, he picked up his sport coat, slipped it on and headed for the door.
Draco huffed behind him and Harry heard him collapse on the bed, but Draco didn’t call him back. Harry made his way through Draco’s ostentatious apartment and left. He barely noticed the trickling sensation down his back when stepping through the foyer. In the elevator, he shut his eyes, trying to figure out his emotions toward Draco. Resentment and hatred? Those didn’t make sense. Harry didn’t know him well enough to hate him. But the more he got to know him, the stronger this hate grew. But it didn’t feel right. It felt superficial and habitual, sort of like how someone just hates a certain food. Or mosquitoes. Annoying pesky mosquitoes that you don’t mind swatting at when they land on you.
That sinking feeling of maybe actually knowing Draco came back. All the things he said that made it seem like they knew one another, all tossed away with a casual remark.
Harry didn’t think he’d forget someone like Draco. Even as a one night stand.
“Good morning, Mister. Potter,” the doorman said.
“Good morning, um sorry.”
“Davis.”
“Right. Good morning, Davis.”
“Do you need a cab?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to walk.”
“Have a nice walk, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Davis hit the buzzer and opened the door for Harry to exit.
It was a long walk, but Harry didn’t care. It also unfortunately didn’t clear his head at all and he was even more confused when he finally stumbled into his apartment. He showered and shaved and dressed for work. He grabbed his regular cup of coffee from the vendor on the corner and then lost himself in the case.
“What’s wrong, Harry?” Kat asked a few hours after lunch.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. Then I’ll guess. Malfoy?”
Harry said nothing, but his mouth tightened.
“Date not go well?”
“The date went fine.”
“Oh, and?”
“And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You come too soon?”
Harry glared up at her smile. “No.”
“Talk, Potter.”
Harry sighed and threw his pen onto his desk. “I can’t shake this feeling that I know him. It’s making me anxious and I feel like he’s lying to me. I’ve always been a good judge of character, but he’s playing me and I hate it.”
“That is a lot of feelings all mixed together.”
“Yeah. And I keep having dreams about flying and fire and blood. I know those are work related, but Draco keeps popping up in them. But not this Draco but a younger Draco, like a teenaged Draco.”
Kat raised an eyebrow.
“Please don’t make a perverted remark about that.”
Her lips quirked. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Liar. It was almost like he was supposed to be there when all these dreams happened.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to solve this case so I can figure out what’s going on with Draco.”
“Do you know what I think, Harry?”
“What?”
“I think you’re afraid to let yourself like this guy. You’ve always been worried about having people close to you get hurt or afraid you’ll neglect someone because of your job. And now that you have someone that you really, really like, you’re making up excuses on why you shouldn’t be with him.”
Harry scowled and went back to the list of places that they had already searched for more information on Barnes, cross checking it with the list of purchases made on his credit card over the last year.
“No defense.”
“No. That’s definitely part of it, but the rest of it … Draco irritates me beyond all reason, and he hasn’t done anything to irritate me. I’m just confused.”
“Don’t discount your feelings, Harry. You are an excellent judge of character.”
Kat gripped his shoulder and then left him alone. Harry went back to work. Even if he was stressed and even if this case was frustrating, Harry knew better than to stick around the station for more than twelve hours a day. He knew better, but that didn’t mean he went home at a decent time. It was almost nine when he walked up the stairs to his apartment.
And froze.
His door was open, forming a strand of light in the slightly darkened hallway. Harry pulled out his gun from under his jacket and disabled the safety. With a loose grip, he went down the hall on silent feet. His skin shivered, like he’d stepped through water. It was the same feeling when he’d been in Malfoy’s apartment.
Harry stopped, listening, waiting.
Nothing.
He moved to the edge of the door and stuck his head barely around the frame.
A noise. In the kitchen.
He pushed the door open. Senses on high alert, he went into his apartment, and movement to his left had him spinning and aiming his gun.
“Fuck, Potter.”
“Fuck, Malfoy,” Harry said and immediately pulled the gun up. He put the safety on. “How the hell did you get into my house?”
Draco rolled his eyes and said, “Your lock is horrible.”
“I have one of the best locks in the industry.”
“Did the locksmith tell you that?” he asked with that usual smirk and disdain.
“What are you doing here?”
Draco waved a hand over his shoulder, to where he’d moved Harry’s kitchen table. It was decorated with a tablecloth that Harry didn’t own, two candles and two plates of dinner.
Harry waited to feel excited, but all he felt was annoyance. Okay, and it was pretty sweet, but honestly.
“You don’t go breaking into people’s houses to make them dinner.”
“I don’t. I’ve only broken into your house to make your dinner.”
“Look, I appreciate it, really, but-”
“Bugger off, I get it.”
“This is … just … very … I don’t know. It’s not you, I know that.”
“How do you know that?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know. I just do! Why the hell-”
Draco held up a hand. “Do you want to eat first, or shower first? You’ve had a long day. Unproductive, too I warrant.”
“Yeah. I’m really too stressed out for this. I’m sorry.”
Draco smiled and moved into Harry’s space. He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed when Draco’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and he pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Go shower. I’ll be gone when you get out, I promise.”
Harry quickly hugged him. “No, I’m sorry. Don’t go.”
“You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Potter. I know where I’m not wanted.”
Harry pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, and then said, “Please stay. You went to all this effort and I truly appreciate it. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
“Just enough time to finish things up.”
Harry let him go and headed to the bathroom.
It was pretty sweet. He’d never had someone make him dinner for when he got home from work. He was still pissed at finding his home invaded, but he was even more pissed that it wasn’t Barnes or someone out for revenge. He needed something to happen. Something soon. He was getting more anxious and irritable as the days went by without a break in the case.
The light was off in his bathroom, and instead there were two lamps, one by the sink the other on the back of the toilet. The light was dim, but enough to see what he needed to see. A brand new, soft bathmat was on the floor and matching towels hung on the rack. A deep red bathrobe was hanging from a hook on the back of the door.
There was a note on the counter, written on thick, fancy paper, like what they would use in the time of castles and dungeons. The writing was, of course, in perfect, flowing script.
Potter Darling---
Harry snorted.
I took the liberty of replacing the shit you use to wash your hair and body. Consider it a gift if you must, but really, it’s more of a necessity. You don’t have to thank me, although, to show your gratitude, I would accept the chance of running my hands through that unmanageable mop of hair after it has been conditioned properly.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy
“Ponce,” Harry said affectionately.
With the dim lights, and the warm water, and the new soap and the new towels and the bathrobe, Harry felt more relaxed than he ever had after he’d taken a shower. He left the bathroom in nothing but the bathrobe and found Draco at the table sipping on a glass of wine. Harry did not have wine in his apartment.
Harry took the glass of wine from his fingers and downed the rest of it. He set the glass on the table, ignoring Draco’s noise of disdain and mutter about savoring something so pure. And whatever else he said was lost in a kiss and Draco’s clothes were discarded somewhere between the chair and the floor, and Harry’s new robe was soft on his back, a comfortable barrier between his skin and the carpet.
And Harry let Draco take his time. Let Draco play and tease, until Harry was breathless, his knee hooked on Draco’s shoulder, body arching into each of his gentle thrusts while he covered his chest in come.
Part 5: A Soul of Confusion
Part 3: A Night of Questions
Part 2: A Reoccurence of Dreams
Part 1: A Meeting of Equals
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