My Kink N Squick Fic is Finally Up!
Title: To Watch Him Sleep
Author: dracogotgame
Prompt: 49: How he loved to watch him sleeping, relaxed, yielding to his caresses and responding so beautifully even in his sleep.
Kink/squick: Somnophilia
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1,838
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: This is not a fluffy fic. Themes of dub-con and non-con. Proceed with Caution.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to dragontara for this amazing prompt. Beta-ed by the amazing digthewriter
Summary: Where Malfoy is concerned, Harry has always been a little touched in the head.
Harry is willing to admit that there is something seriously wrong with him. Considering that he is at this moment, crouched in an alcove under his Invisibility Cloak while Mrs Norris finishes her customary night stalk; he supposes the point is rather moot. The question is not whether something is wrong with him or not. It’s really more of a how much than a what at this point. So just how fucked up is Harry James Potter? He can’t put an exact measure on it but that’s all right.
The important thing to know is that where Malfoy is concerned, Harry has always been a little touched in the head.
A little too quick. A little too angry. A little too eager to push and shove and land punches and engage in any - literally any - physical altercation whatsoever.
As he creeps down the now familiar stairway and into the dungeons, he wonders why it’s always Malfoy who drives him to this state, makes him push for just a little more.
The answer comes too easily for his liking.
Malfoy responds. He sneers and fights back. His eyes spark with anger as he fires hexes and hurls insults. His lips pull back in a near snarl and his pale skin flushes an angry red as he throws down the wand and tackles Harry, taking him down in a flurry of punches and kicks. He tries to grind Harry into the floor and even when he’s the one on his back, he rears and fights some more. When their housemates finally show up to pull them apart, to cart them off to their respective Common Rooms, Malfoy is still shouting, still swearing he’ll get him the next time and that Harry should watch his back.
That’s what it all came down to, really. Those fleeting moments when he can penetrate that cool, collected façade and make Draco lose control. When he can take the one thing Draco Malfoy would never give willingly to anyone, anywhere, ever.
Honesty.
But that’s changed. Malfoy seems more cautious now. The War is over and he’s wary. He’s taking cover. Avoiding Harry and hiding behind a blank mask whenever they cross paths. He won’t respond to taunts or challenges. He holds his head high and ignores Harry’s barrage of insults. He has nothing to say to Harry anymore.
He just won’t respond. And that’s something Harry can’t deal with. Not anymore.
Draco owes him this and Harry’s going to take it and some things are just that simple.
The Slytherin password is ridiculously dated (Pureblood, honestly) but the good news is this allows him to get in and out of the Common Room without much difficulty. There’s hardly anyone around. Most of the students have gone home for the Christmas holidays, which makes Harry’s job easier. After the Common Room, it’s only a matter of taking the familiar route down the last passage to the dormitory. It’s all just too easy and Harry absently wonders if the Slytherins shouldn’t be just a bit warier.
The only light in the room comes from the depths of the lake encasing the lowest levels- a dim green that flickers and casts shadows against the walls. There’s no other movement, save from Zabini who groans and turns over in his sleep. Harry freezes until the boy turns over with a mumble, and then he creeps in.
Draco’s bed is to the far right of the room. Goyle’s empty bed lies between him and the rest of the room, seemingly barricading him from his dorm mates. Harry wonders if Draco planned it that way and realises that he probably did. Draco seems intent on keeping out of sight this year. Perhaps he believes that sticking himself in a corner will make him less conspicuous. It’s ridiculous, but Harry’s not complaining.
This way, he has Draco all to himself. Just the way he wants it.
He’s fast asleep, as he always is when Harry makes these visits. He sleeps on his side, clutching his pillow in his fists. His brow is furrowed and his lips are pursed. Even in his sleep, he’s defensive. Wary against attack. Harry chuckles slightly. Malfoy was never one to make things easy for him. He’s always had to work for it with this one.
But damn if it isn’t worth every bit of it.
Harry starts slowly. His touches are feather light as he brushes Draco’s hair back. Slowly. Carefully. He lets his fingers run through fine, blond strands and he keeps his touch gentle and soothing. Draco hedges away with a huff of complaint. Harry tightens his grip slightly to keep him in place and Draco most certainly doesn’t like it. He scowls and his brow furrows. He mumbles something about being tired and his fists clench against the pillow.
“Go to sleep then,” Harry whispers softly. “It’s all right. I’ve got you. Go to sleep, pretty one.”
That works. Draco’s lashes flutter slightly but he sighs and settles down again. He’s more receptive to being touched now that he’s calm and slowly Harry is able to coax him on his back. A hiss of appreciation escapes him as Draco turns and throws an arm out, unconsciously opening himself to Harry. He’s gorgeous, really. His hair fans around the pillow and his lips are slightly parted. He looks so relaxed, so open.
So responsive.
Harry’s hands work their way under Draco’s thin shirt. It’s a coarse cotton garment and he’s certainly seen it before but it always catches him by surprise. The Draco in his head always wears silk, for some reason. Harry is starting to think that maybe he doesn’t know Draco as well as he should, and as his hands slip further under the shirt and trace smooth, soft skin he thinks that maybe he should change that.
Draco moans softly and arches into his hands. His lips part again and it’s an invitation Harry can’t resist. He leans over and kisses him softly, echoing Draco’s moan as those plump soft lips move beneath his own. Draco is never passive. Even in his sleep, he’s reacting to Harry’s attentions. His mouth moves so beautifully under Harry’s direction and every now and then small breathy gasps escape him. His fists clench the pillow and he hums in approval and every sound is going straight to Harry’s cock. It makes him want to do more and take more from Draco. He’s so willing and perfect like this and Harry wants him so much…
Draco turns to one side and bares his neck. Harry takes the invitation gladly. His teeth bite down gently on tantalising flesh, wanting, needing to mark that pale skin. If he could he’d mark Draco all over. Let everyone know that he’s Harry’s and no one is allowed to see him like this…
“Mine,” he whispers harshly and Draco’s answering moan is almost an agreement.
His hands are moving on their own now. One traces Draco’s pale chest and gently pinches a pert nipple. Draco arches beautifully and parts his legs, kicking the blankets away. Harry is only too happy to help get rid of them. The other strokes idly at Draco’s hipbones before plucking at the draw-string of his pyjamas. His hand slips in and Harry hisses as his fingers wrap around hard, warm flesh.
No boxers. Nothing underneath. If possible, Harry just got even harder. Draco’s length twitches against his too light grip. He frowns and whines in complaint, completely unaware of just what he’s asking for but wanting it, needing it just as badly as Harry does. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Harry leans in for another kiss, just because. Draco smiles and hums against his mouth and Harry’s hand tightens on his cock. Draco’s gasp is a prize all in itself. Harry rewards him with a firm stroke even as he palms himself roughly through his trousers with his free hand. It’s awkward and difficult, mostly because his attention is all on Draco. But he’d be damned if he stopped now. He teases Draco’s leaking slit with his thumb and twists his wrist again. Draco whimpers slightly and Harry’s motions are getting faster and rougher. He can barely keep his own moans from spilling out.
Draco gasps and twists as if he can’t decide if he wants to escape Harry or urge him on. Harry makes up his mind for him. He speeds up his motions and flicks his wrist. Draco cries out and rises in a splendid arch, spilling himself over Harry’s fingers. Harry follows a split second and he grits his teeth against his own pleasure, willing himself not to make a sound. A gasp escapes him anyway and he freezes on the spot, one hand still in his damp trousers and the other around Draco’s softening cock. It takes all of his shredded self control to withdraw himself from Draco and move away.
And thank Merlin for it because not one second later, Draco’s eyes snap open and he bolts up with a gasp. Harry backs away at once as Draco looks around, eyes wild and terrified. He fumbles for his wand, casting a Lumos. Harry holds his breath and pins himself against the wall, wrapping the Cloak tight around him and keeping perfectly still. His eyes still rove Draco though, hungry for every last bit of his reaction. Draco sags slightly and his breathing slows. He runs a hand through his tousled hair, making his way down his neck and chest. Belatedly, Harry is thankful he didn’t leave a mark after all.
Draco’s hand disappears into the vee of his thighs and his cheeks flush. He swallows and looks around furtively. He shoulders slump and he sighs with relief as he realizes his dorm-mates are still asleep.
“Dream,” he whispers. “Just a dream…” He shakes his head again. Harry frowns thoughtfully. Draco almost looks disappointed. He watches as the blond settles down with a series of petulant mumbles.
“Stupid dreams about stupid Potter…can’t even get a good night’s rest…bloody prat…”
Harry has to physically bite back a laugh. The sullen mutterings continue until Draco tires himself out. By the time Harry approaches him again, he’s fast asleep. Tucked on his side and strangling his pillow again. But he looks peaceful, content. Harry leans over and brushes a soft kiss against his temple.
“Until next time, pretty one.”
He steals another kiss before finally forcing himself to leave. It’s almost dawn, after all.
Although, he muses as he steals out of the dungeons, perhaps it was time for a direct approach after all. It won’t be easy, but then when had Draco ever made things easy for him? Harry grins to himself and shrugs the Cloak off as he makes his way to the Gryffindor Tower. He won’t be needing it anymore.
Yes, Harry has made up his mind.
The next time he watches Draco sleep, it will be in his bed. There’s no question of how he’s going to go about it. He’ll figure it out.
It’s really more of when than a how at this point.
**cross-posted at kink_n_squick here**