Fic: Slytherin Seduction
Title: Slytherin Seduction
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: D/H
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Snark, sex, slash, smut
Word count: 6000
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for snottygrrl, whose request was Draco, who hasn't seen Harry in years, running into him at a gay bar and being surprised by how sexy he dances. I tweaked it up a bit, in that it's only been months since they've been together. I began this on time, really I did, but it got out of control. *grins*
Summary: After a chance encounter with his former lover at a club, Draco realizes one thing: He wants Harry back.
Draco took a sip of his drink and looked around from his vantage point at the bar. From there, he had a good view of the dance floor, and he was able to check out the other guys in the place, trying to decide if any of them was worthy of his time. Draco found his gaze drawn to the enticing wiggle of one bloke's backside in particular. Something about his artfully mussed hair reminded Draco of Harry, but Harry had never been one to get out and dance. It was just one of many things they used to argue about during their two year relationship. They'd argued a lot at the end, but he still found himself missing the git.
No sooner had he thought that, than the dancer whirled around, and Draco was confronted with a pair of hauntingly familiar green eyes. He nearly choked on his drink. Harry smiled and waved, then excused himself from the guy he'd been dancing with and approached Draco. "Fancy meeting you here," he grinned.
"Do I know you?" Draco asked archly. "You look like my ex, but he could never dance," he teased. Harry laughed and tugged on a lock of Draco's hair, just like he used to, and Draco felt a familiar wave of desire uncurl low in his stomach.
"Would you care to dance?" Harry asked, his voice husky with smoke.
"Why not?" Draco murmured by way of reply. He set his drink down and allowed Harry to lead him onto the dance floor. The music was fast, but Harry pulled Draco close and began a slow grind against him. Draco's knees nearly gave way, but he doggedly picked up Harry's rhythm and began to move with him. It was obvious he wasn't the only one affected by the slow undulation of their bodies together. "You've learned how to dance," remarked Draco, voice hoarse with need.
"You always said it was just like sex," Harry purred in his ear, his breath ruffling Draco's hair.
The comment was like ice water on Draco's libido. "You've been practicing, I take it?" he asked peevishly.
"As a matter of fact, yes," grinned Harry, not picking up on Draco's abrupt mood swing.
Draco shoved Harry away from him. "Fuck you, Potter!" he snapped, before storming off the dance floor.
~*~
Harry stared after his retreating ex in stunned disbelief. Things had been going swimmingly. He'd asked around and learned the name of the club where Draco was frequently seen, he had succeeded in snagging Draco's attention, and the dancing lessons that Dean and Seamus had indulged him in had been paying off. He'd had Draco in his arms again and was rejoicing in the sure knowledge that his former lover wanted to be there. Then suddenly, everything had gone pear-shaped, and Draco had been pushing out of his arms and stomping away, nearly knocking Seamus over in the process.
Harry was still standing on the dance floor when Seamus reached him and led him away. Settling his friend at a table, Seamus winced in sympathy when Harry buried his head on his forearms. "What happened, mate?" he asked.
Harry raised his head and sighed. "Draco Malfoy is a cruel, sadistic git, and I don't know what I ever saw in him in the first place," he mumbled.
Dean arrived and slid a drink in front of Harry, then sat next to his boyfriend. "What's going on?" he asked Seamus.
Seamus shrugged. "Malfoy is a prat and not worth Harry's time," he sighed.
Harry took a few gulps, then set his unfinished drink on the table between them. "I'm going home," he said dispiritedly. Sensing his need to be alone, his friends let him go.
Once Harry had left, Dean turned to his boyfriend and said, "Now what?"
"Now we go find Malfoy and beat the snot out of him," Seamus declared, cracking his knuckles.
~*~
Draco had gone to the bar and ordered a fresh drink. By a stroke of luck, he had managed to get a small table in the corner, and he sat there by himself, nursing his scotch and his pique. He shouldn't have blown up at Harry. Logically, he knew he had no right to be angry. He and Harry had broken up months ago, and Harry's personal life was no longer his business. However, he had been Harry's first lover, and the thought of him in someone else's bed had caused Draco to overreact. Shaking his head ruefully, he told himself that it was unfair of him to imagine Harry wouldn't replace him in the bedroom. After all, once Harry got over his initial shyness, he'd been bold and demanding and virtually tireless in bed. He probably hadn't waited long before taking a new lover.
Draco flinched when his glass shattered in his hand. Cursing, he plucked a shard from his palm, then performed quick healing and cleaning charms to rid the mess he'd made. He was still scowling furiously when an equally furious-looking Finnegan marched up to his table and declared, "Malfoy, you're a sodding prick, you are, and I hope you're happy."
"What are you on about?" demanded Draco. His temper needed an outlet, and arguing with Finnegan seemed the ticket.
"You've managed to upset Harry...again," snarled Finnegan. "What he ever saw in you, or still sees in you, I have no idea..."
"What do you mean, what he still sees in me?" interrupted Draco, intrigued despite Finnegan's posturing.
"Harry wanted to come to this club tonight to see you, and you were a complete arse to him!" seethed the former Gryffindor.
"Did he run out of available bed mates so soon?" sneered Draco. If it had occurred to him that Finnegan might take a swing, he might have been able to duck. As it was, Draco was caught by surprise and cleaned off his chair by the other's fist when it connected with his jaw.
Just as quickly, Finnegan had a handful of Draco's shirt and was hauling him to his feet. "How dare you?" hissed Harry's temperamental friend, giving Draco a shake for good measure. "Harry hasn't been sleeping around since you broke up with him, unlike you no doubt have, you Slytherin slut!"
Draco was so stunned by this revelation that he didn't even try to escape Finnegan's clutches. It wasn't until Thomas showed up and pried the other's hands free that Draco was released. "Go get our cloaks," Thomas hissed at his boyfriend. With one last sneer directed at Draco, Finnegan left to do as told.
Thomas turned to Draco and said stiffly, "I'd apologize for Seamus' behavior, but I suspect you had that coming."
Rather than address that remark, Draco instead asked, "Is it true that Harry hasn't been, er, playing the field much since we broke up?"
Thomas stared at him for a long time, as if taking his measure. Finally, he seemed satisfied that Draco was sincere, and he answered truthfully, "Harry has never been much of a player. He was devastated when you two called it quits, and it wasn't until recently that he let Seamus and I talk him into going out at all." He paused momentarily, then continued with a grin, "Even then, he refused to go clubbing with us unless we taught him to dance. I probably shouldn't tell you this, Malfoy, but he insisted on practicing until he got good enough to impress you, should you happen to meet again."
Draco felt his heart plummet, but he was spared having to make a response when Finnegan arrived with his and Thomas' cloaks draped over his arm. They left without a word, although Thomas spared him a glance and a nod before turning away. Draco sat down heavily once more, still stunned at what Thomas had revealed.
In the past few months, Draco had regretted the end of his relationship with Harry. There had been times when he had been tempted to contact his former lover to see if they could reconcile. However, he had always thought Harry was happier without him. Now, Draco knew that Harry missed him, as well, but then he'd gone and bollocksed it up by all but accusing him of sleeping around since their break up. Harry would never forgive him for that insult. "Oh, god, what have I done?" he moaned.
~*~
Over the next couple days, Draco had plenty of time to think about what had transpired at the club. He supposed it had occurred to him on some level that when he and Harry had ended their relationship that Harry would take another lover to his bed, but being confronted by that very real possibility had affected him more than he could have anticipated. He found himself seething with jealousy at the thought of another man kissing, caressing and pleasuring his Harry!
Only, he's not your Harry any longer, an insidious voice in his head insisted.
"We'll see about that," Draco snarled out loud. He missed Harry, and he was now determined to win his lover back...
~*~
Four days after the humiliating scene in the club, Harry returned to his flat, bone weary. He'd been working out extensively since then, in an effort to be able to sleep at night. It was either that, or drink himself into oblivion, and he wasn't that desperate...yet. He had finally admitted to himself that things were truly over between him and Draco, and that it was time to move on. Harry hung up his cloak and dropped his keys on the table just inside the door. Trudging into the kitchen, he stopped short at the sight that met his eyes.
Draco Malfoy was sitting at the table, as if he had every right to be there.
Harry shook his head to clear it, but Draco was still there when he looked again. "How did you get in here?" he demanded quietly.
Draco shrugged. "Your wards were still set to allow me to enter."
"Fuck," Harry muttered beneath his breath, crossing the kitchen to grab a butterbeer from the fridge.
Draco's shoulders tensed visibly. "Would you prefer it if I left?" he asked, steeling himself for the answer.
"No...yes...I don't know," Harry wavered. Sighing, he handed the bottle to Draco, then opened the fridge and helped himself to another.
They drank in silence for several moments, then Draco set his butterbeer down and said, "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."
Harry shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of beer. "I reckon you left something behind and came to retrieve it."
Draco's face broke into a smug grin as he replied, "You could say that."
Harry scowled. Sodding Slytherin prick, he thought. Aloud, he said, "Then finish your drink, get what you came for, and get out."
Draco's smile slid off his face. Stubborn damn Gryffindor, he mused to himself. Sitting back, he remarked, "I'm afraid it won't be as easy as that."
Harry slammed his bottle down with a bang, causing Draco to jump in alarm. "You had better not tell me you think I owe you money for anything," he snapped.
"No, of course not," Draco sniped back. Then, realizing that being baited into an argument was getting him nowhere fast, he leaned forward and took a deep breath, catching and holding Harry's eyes as he announced, "You are what I came back for."
Harry stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Do you think that's funny, or are you deliberately being cruel?"
"I'm being truthful," Draco said tightly, striving to keep his cool.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "So, let me get this straight," he began, as if speaking to a child. "We agreed to break up, because we could no longer tolerate one another's company. Then, several months later, we meet at a club, whereupon you all but accuse me of acting the whore, and now you want me back?"
Harry's voice had risen at the end, and Draco inwardly cringed. "Look, I apologize for how I reacted at the club," he began, "but I really would like to try again."
"Maybe I don't want to," huffed Harry.
Draco felt a momentary panic. "That's not what Thomas told me," he blurted.
Harry bristled immediately. "Dean was wrong," he sneered. "Now, get out."
"Harry, please just give me, give us, another chance," Draco tried, as close to pleading as he'd ever come.
Both bottles of beer shattered, spilling the remainder of their contents across the table. Harry's voice, however, was calm as he repeated, "Get out."
Draco knew when a strategic retreat was in order. He pushed his chair back and stood, heading out of the kitchen. Harry trailed after him, presumably to make sure he was really leaving. Draco opened the door, then paused in the doorway. "At least promise me you'll think about it," he requested softly, walking out without waiting for a response.
Harry closed the door quietly behind his former lover, then slumped against it, his forehead pressed to the cool wood.
~*~
Back at his own flat later that evening, Draco was in a full-blown sulk. He couldn't believe how badly his meeting with Harry had gone. He had presumed that Harry, with his Gryffindor nature, would appreciate the direct approach, but it was now obvious that the situation called for some more subtle Slytherin finesse on his part.
His mind made up, Draco finally fell to sleep, but his dreams were tormented by images of Harry having sex with faceless men.
~*~
Harry was at his desk the following morning when the flowers were delivered. He had a fair idea who had sent them, but he opened the card anyway, curious as to what the message may be. The enclosed note read simply:
Thinking of you.
~DM~
Well, that was...unexpected. Harry had rather thought Draco would have penned a note of apology, or a request for a date; not just a simple thinking of you. Unbidden, a small smile quirked his lips. If only Draco knew how often Harry had thought of him in the months since their break up. At first, Harry had felt a sense of freedom when the relationship ended. Suddenly, he could eat snacks in bed, and he didn't have to comb his hair on a Saturday if he didn't feel like it. But after about a week of being Draco-free, Harry had found himself missing his blond lover, and not just in his bed. He missed Draco's cooking and organizational abilities, he missed seeing Draco's toiletries in the bathroom, and he even missed Draco's snarky comments and short temper and the way he made fun of him for his lack of dancing ability. In short, he missed Draco.
Harry had spent several weeks brooding and refusing to leave his flat except to go to his job at the Ministry and to run necessary errands. His friends had tried to coax him out of his protective shell, most notably Ron and Hermione, and Dean and Seamus. The only problem was, they were couples, and Harry was...just Harry now. Hermione and Ron had finally conceded to his wishes to be left alone, but Dean and Seamus continued to badger him and threaten to take him clubbing. Harry had relented at last, but only if they would teach him to dance. He told them it was so he wouldn't make a fool of himself, but then he admitted he hoped he would encounter Draco sometime and be able to impress him with his new found ability.
That had been a spectacular flop. At first, Harry hadn't understood Draco's violent reaction on the dance floor to the announcement that he had been practicing dancing. It was only later, after speaking to Dean, that he realized Draco had jumped to the conclusion that what Harry had been practicing at was sex. He had been insulted and infuriated. Draco had been his first male lover, and Harry was not the type to bed hop. The fact that Draco believed he'd been promiscuous since their break up had left him cold. And now Draco had the gall to show up at his flat, saying he wanted him back. Harry snorted. As if he planned to make it that easy for the blond git.
On a whim, Harry picked up his vase full of flowers and presented them to the matronly receptionist in his department. She blushed prettily and thanked him, leaning forward to sniff the blooms appreciatively.
~*~
In retrospect, Harry should have known better than to go to his favorite bistro for lunch. He'd barely been seated when Draco slid into the chair across the table from him, saying, "Mind if I join you?"
As Draco didn't look to be leaving any time soon, Harry merely shrugged and returned to perusing the menu. Finally, as if unable to help himself, Draco asked, "Did you enjoy the flowers I sent?"
"Not as much as our receptionist is enjoying them," quipped Harry without even bothering to look up.
Draco frowned sullenly. It was obvious Harry was set on being difficult, so perhaps flowers hadn't been the best strategy. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to give up so easily. Taking a moment to calm himself, he finally inquired, "What are you having?"
"I'm having a hard time believing you're still here," snapped Harry, his eyes lifting to glare at Draco.
Draco straightened indignantly, but he maintained his composure. "There's no need to be rude, Harry," he said stiffly.
Harry was momentarily chagrined. He was acting a right prat, and in public no less. Striving to be civil, he tried to return the polite small talk. "I'm thinking of the soup and sandwich special," he said, answering Draco's previous question. "And you?" Two could play at this game.
Draco gave a noncommittal shrug. "I think perhaps I'll only have an ice cream."
Harry's entire body tightened at the mention of ice cream. When they had been together, Draco would often indulge in the treat, turning the eating of an ice cream cone into a sensuous oral seduction...one Harry had never been able to resist. More often than not, Draco would end up finishing his ice cream by lapping it off of Harry's body in bed, which inevitably led to fantastic sex. Draco, it seemed, was pulling out all the stops today, the sneaky Slytherin bastard.
The waiter appeared at that moment to take their order, but the interruption did nothing to diffuse the tension between the former lovers. Draco ordered a chocolate ice cream cone, knowing full well that Harry loved chocolate. For his part, Harry retaliated by ordering his sandwich with extra onions and a side order of French onion soup. That should keep Malfoy safely on the far side of the table!
Lunch was pure torture for Harry. Despite Draco's accusations at the club, he hadn't had sex with anyone but his right hand since they had broken up. Oh, he'd been on a couple dates, but neither guy Harry had gone out with had been able to hold his interest. Now he was stuck sitting across a table from his former lover and trying his damnedest to ignore the way Draco's talented tongue was swiping and lapping at his chocolate ice cream. It was on the verge of obscene, and it was causing an obscene reaction in Harry's trousers. He choked down part of his soup and sandwich without tasting any of it. When Draco bit the end off the bottom of his cone and began to suck the ice cream out of it, Harry had had enough. Standing abruptly, he tossed enough money on the table to cover the entire bill, generous tip included. As he turned to walk away, he heard Draco chirp, "Wanks!"
Harry spun around. "I beg your pardon?" he demanded.
"I said, 'Thanks'," Draco replied with an innocent shrug. One that was belied by the devil in his eyes.
~*~
Harry may have become immune to my charm, but at least he's still vulnerable to a subversive seduction, Draco mused to himself that evening. After his completely indecent devouring of his ice cream, he couldn't help but notice the bulge in Harry's trousers when he had stood to leave. Now that the heat is on, I need to keep fanning the flames until he cracks...
Draco indulged in a healthy wank and fell to sleep with a smile on his face.
~*~
Over the next few days, Harry learned what it was to be doggedly pursued. Not a day went by that Draco didn't send some gift to him at home or the office. Most of them were intended to remind him of the scorching sex that had dominated their relationship: ribbed condoms, cherry-flavored lube and a pair of handcuffs were just a few of the items he'd received. It was obvious Draco was all but daring him to give these gifts to his receptionist. Beulah would have a heart attack if he did. Harry himself nearly had a heart attack when he opened the package containing the cuffs. That had been a spectacular weekend, indeed.
~*~
"He's trying to wear me down, Hermione, and I just don't get it," Harry lamented at lunch on Saturday with his friend.
"What's not to get?" Hermione asked tartly. "Malfoy has stated he wants you back, and he's attempting to win you over. End of story." She took a sip of her tea, then continued, "The real question here is, why are you fighting it so much?"
"Huh?" Harry asked eloquently.
"Harry, you just haven't been the same since you and Malfoy broke up. There's no...sparkle in your eyes anymore. Much as I hate to say it, I think he was good for you."
Harry snorted. "He may have been good for me, but he wasn't always good to me, and there were times he gave the impression that he was too good for me."
Interesting, Hermione mused. She tried a different tact. "Well, then, if you don't plan to get back together with Malfoy, allow me to take this opportunity to tell you that I think he's a sneaky, good-for-nothing prat, and I'm glad you kicked him to the curb!"
"That's not true!" Harry exploded, heedless of the looks sent his way by the other diners in the restaurant.
"You didn't kick him to the curb, then?" Hermione prompted, hiding her grin. "He must have dumped you then--all the more reason to despise him," she shrugged.
"Draco did not dump me," hissed Harry. "We agreed, mutually I might add, to part company."
"Why?" asked Hermione, genuinely curious. Harry had refused to discuss the matter previously.
"I...we...I don't know!" cried Harry in frustration. He and Draco had had their share of differences and arguments, but what couple didn't? Why had they split up? Couldn't they have tried a little harder to work on things? They had been happy together, the sex was brilliant, and they shared many interests. It just seemed that the little things they'd argued about had taken over and made them forget the bigger things. "Oh god, what will I do?" he moaned.
~*~
It had been Seamus and Dean's idea to take Harry out that night to get his mind off things. Harry would have refused, had he known they were taking him to the same club where he'd had his unfortunate reunion with Draco exactly two weeks prior. His friends were unable to coax him out to the floor to dance, so they gave up and went themselves, leaving Harry to sit at their table and drink by himself. Seamus had bought a bottle of fine Irish whiskey, and Harry lost track of how many he had poured for himself. Was it three or four? He normally didn't drink much, and now he felt a bit muzzy.
"Drinking alone, Harry? One would think you're missing someone."
It was Draco. Of course, it was. No one else haunted Harry quite like his lover...er, his former lover.
Draco sidled into the booth opposite Harry and asked, "Did you enjoy the gifts I sent you?"
"Yes," Harry replied truthfully, cursing his inability to lie when he'd had more than two drinks.
The upbeat music in the club ended just then, and a slow ballad took its place. "They're playing our song," Draco remarked, extending his hand across the table. "Would you care to dance?"
Harry looked at him in confusion. "We never had a song," he said slowly.
"Then consider this it," Draco shrugged. His hand was still outstretched, and Harry finally took it, allowing himself to be led from the table and onto the dance floor. He stood stiffly for a moment, until Draco enfolded him in his arms, and then Harry sighed and melted into the other's embrace. They weren't dancing so much as swaying to the music, their shuffling feet taking them on a slow circuit of the floor.
Draco carded a hand through Harry's hair, marveling at how right Harry felt in his arms. How had he ever let this man out of his life? Taking heart from the brunet's relaxed posture, Draco gathered his courage and ventured to ask, "Do you think you could ever love me again, Harry?"
"I never stopped loving you," Harry admitted, blushing a little.
Draco felt a grateful lump form in his throat. "Why did we ever break up?" he whispered, the words barely audible over the strains of music.
"Because you're a prick," Harry muttered, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder and reaching up to tug a lock of blond hair.
Draco gave a snort of surprised laughter. "I suppose I deserved that," he said.
Harry leaned back to look at him thoughtfully. "I might have been a bit of a prick, too," he conceded.
Draco tried for a solemn expression when he questioned, "Whatever should two pricks like us do about our situation?"
Harry appeared to give the matter some serious thought. "I think whenever two pricks are together, there should be sex involved," he declared finally, nodding for emphasis.
"I think that's a brilliant idea," Draco agreed, "but first you'll have to sober up a bit." Taking Harry's hand, he began to lead him from the dance floor. They hadn't gotten far when they were accosted by Finnegan and Thomas.
"Where are you going with Harry, Malfoy?" demanded Finnegan, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"I'm taking him home," Draco replied calmly.
"We're going to have sex," Harry chirped with a bright smile.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dean asked him, obviously concerned.
Harry nodded so vigorously he nearly lurched into Draco. "He's a right prick, but I love him," he stated proudly.
"And what of you?" Seamus challenged Draco.
"I am a right prick," Draco stated, "but I love Harry, and I am taking him home with me."
Finnegan looked as though he would challenge Draco's assertion, but a whispered word from Thomas caused him to relent and back down. He stepped out of the way, allowing Draco to pass with Harry in tow. "Be careful, Harry," he muttered to his friend.
Harry grinned and gave him a wave as he willingly followed Draco out of the club.
~*~
Draco Apparated them to his flat and settled Harry in the kitchen with a cup of strong tea laced with a potion to sober him up. Draco sat across from him, sipping at his own cup of tea. Harry dutifully drank his, grimacing at the bitter flavor the potion added to it. Once finished, he sat back and licked his lips, eyeing his lover with interest.
Inexplicably, Draco felt suddenly nervous. "We have a lot to talk about," he hedged.
Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms casually on the table. "You've spent the past several days ruthlessly seducing me with those sexy gifts, and now all you want to do is talk?" he teased.
"I-well, we're going to have to talk at some point," Draco pointed out, although his protest was feeble at best.
"We can talk in the morning," Harry declared, rising to his feet. "Now, as I recall, you have a large, comfortable bed in this flat, and I'd like to get reacquainted with it...and with you."
Draco grinned in relief and moved to join his lover. Hand in hand, they made their way to the bedroom. Once they crossed the threshold, Harry dropped Draco's hand and with a whoop, he bounded across the room and flopped onto the bed, laughing as he bounced on the springy mattress. He toed his shoes off while his legs were still dangling over the edge, then he sat up and tugged his jumper over his head. "Come here," he growled softly.
Draco shivered. "My, you've gotten demanding," he murmured, working on the buttons of his own shirt.
"Several months of celibacy will do that to you."
Draco's head snapped up. "You...you haven't had sex with anyone since...since we broke up?" he asked incredulously, hopefully.
Harry flushed and shook his head. "What about you?" he dared to ask, already dreading the answer.
Draco swallowed heavily. He had said they needed to talk, and this was one of the things that had to be discussed. May as well put it out there and get it over with, he thought ruefully. Clearing his throat, he confessed, "There were a couple times, at different clubs, when I was dancing with some random bloke, and, well, things got intense, and I...Icameonthedancefloor," he finished in a rush.
Harry had felt sick when he realized Draco was about to admit to taking other lovers during their separation. He had steeled himself for the worst, and it took a moment for what Draco had admitted to to sink in. "You frotted on the dance floor?" he asked slowly. Draco nodded, not meeting his eyes. "But you didn't actually have sex with anyone?" Harry persisted.
"Not...not exactly, I guess...unless you count wanking" Draco said hesitantly, daring to look at his lover.
Harry was smiling at him gently. "Come here," he repeated. "Seems like we both have a lot of shagging to catch up on."
Draco felt giddy with relief, and he quickly kicked off his shoes and shucked his trousers before joining Harry in bed. His boxers did little to conceal his throbbing erection, and Harry's eyes seemed riveted to the sight. "Trousers off," Draco husked, and Harry scrambled to comply, undoing his black denims and tugging them off his hips before dropping them carelessly to the floor. His hands moved to his lover eagerly, but Draco sat back, out of reach, and said, "Just...just let me look at you a moment."
Harry reluctantly reclined back against the pillows, but the look of awe on Draco's face made the additional wait worthwhile. They reached for each other at the same moment, as if they could no longer bear not to touch one another. Suddenly, they were kissing and caressing, relearning the hard planes and sharp angles they'd once been so familiar with. Draco began stringing a series of tiny nipping kisses down Harry's chest and stomach, nuzzling his lover's groin through his boxers when he got that far. Sitting up, he drew Harry's boxers over his hips and off his legs, dropping them, and then his own, to join the other clothing on the floor.
Harry's legs opened, and Draco dropped between them, grasping Harry's cock and lapping at the head. Harry moaned and clenched his hands in the pillow behind his head to keep from grabbing and pulling Draco's hair. The blond went from licking to sucking in an instant, and Harry keened in response, his back bowing at the incredible sensation. Draco released his cock long enough to reach past Harry's head for the jar of lubricant he kept on top of his headboard. Opening the lid, he scooped out a liberal amount and slithered back down, taking Harry in his mouth once more. As he sucked his lover's cock, Draco reached beneath Harry's balls and located the tightly furled entrance to his body. Pressing one slick finger inside, he groaned at how tight Harry was, the vibrations of his vocalization tingling through the brunet's prick and drawing an answering gasp from Harry. Draco teased Harry's hole with the first finger, then added a second and began to work them in and out, preparing his lover to take his cock.
"Draco, please," Harry whined, writhing beneath the dual sensations of the blond's mouth around his shaft and his fingers up his arse, brushing against his prostate. When Draco ignored him, he finally grabbed two fistfuls of silky hair and tugged.
Draco released Harry's cock with a small hiss of pain. "Alright, alright," he relented, withdrawing his fingers and spreading the remaining lube on his own prick. Trembling with excitement, he scooted higher up between Harry's thighs and shifted into position, one hand maneuvering his cock head against Harry's opening. His lover's eyes were on him, wide and trusting, and Draco pressed home slowly, savoring the snug heat that enveloped his cock and the flush that spread from Harry's throat and into his face.
Harry grew impatient and arched up, flinching as he impaled himself on Draco's thick length.
"Are you okay?" Draco asked anxiously, shaking with the effort not to give in to his urge to thrust and thrust and thrust into the hot clasp of Harry's body.
Harry bit his lip, but nodded. "Yes," he sighed. "Now fuck me already."
Draco started out slowly, in an effort to be careful, but as Harry's knees drew up and he gripped Draco's hips with his legs, Draco was lost. He gave into Harry's demands and those of his own body and began to surge powerfully between his lover's thighs, his hips pumping steadily, driving his aching cock deep into Harry's slick heat over and over.
Harry nudged a hand between their bodies, grasping his own cock and tugging it roughly, panting in pleasure. The sex was hot and frenzied and too intense to last. Harry came first, shouting Draco's name hoarsely and painting the blond's belly with his release.
Draco's breath caught at the sensation of Harry's arse clamping down on him, and his thrusts came harder and faster until his own cock erupted in pulsing waves of pleasure. His head dropped to Harry's shoulder as he shuddered in climax, and when it was finished, he lipped Harry's throat lightly.
Harry draped one leg possessively across Draco's, wanting to hold his lover there and never let him go again. Draco stirred eventually, smiling as Harry's leg tightened over him. "I have to move," he teased quietly. "Let me catch my breath, and I'll give you another seeing-to in a bit."
"Promise?" Harry asked sulkily.
"Absolutely," Draco declared, disentangling them carefully. "After all, we have a lot of making up to do."
~fin~
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: D/H
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Snark, sex, slash, smut
Word count: 6000
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for snottygrrl, whose request was Draco, who hasn't seen Harry in years, running into him at a gay bar and being surprised by how sexy he dances. I tweaked it up a bit, in that it's only been months since they've been together. I began this on time, really I did, but it got out of control. *grins*
Summary: After a chance encounter with his former lover at a club, Draco realizes one thing: He wants Harry back.
Draco took a sip of his drink and looked around from his vantage point at the bar. From there, he had a good view of the dance floor, and he was able to check out the other guys in the place, trying to decide if any of them was worthy of his time. Draco found his gaze drawn to the enticing wiggle of one bloke's backside in particular. Something about his artfully mussed hair reminded Draco of Harry, but Harry had never been one to get out and dance. It was just one of many things they used to argue about during their two year relationship. They'd argued a lot at the end, but he still found himself missing the git.
No sooner had he thought that, than the dancer whirled around, and Draco was confronted with a pair of hauntingly familiar green eyes. He nearly choked on his drink. Harry smiled and waved, then excused himself from the guy he'd been dancing with and approached Draco. "Fancy meeting you here," he grinned.
"Do I know you?" Draco asked archly. "You look like my ex, but he could never dance," he teased. Harry laughed and tugged on a lock of Draco's hair, just like he used to, and Draco felt a familiar wave of desire uncurl low in his stomach.
"Would you care to dance?" Harry asked, his voice husky with smoke.
"Why not?" Draco murmured by way of reply. He set his drink down and allowed Harry to lead him onto the dance floor. The music was fast, but Harry pulled Draco close and began a slow grind against him. Draco's knees nearly gave way, but he doggedly picked up Harry's rhythm and began to move with him. It was obvious he wasn't the only one affected by the slow undulation of their bodies together. "You've learned how to dance," remarked Draco, voice hoarse with need.
"You always said it was just like sex," Harry purred in his ear, his breath ruffling Draco's hair.
The comment was like ice water on Draco's libido. "You've been practicing, I take it?" he asked peevishly.
"As a matter of fact, yes," grinned Harry, not picking up on Draco's abrupt mood swing.
Draco shoved Harry away from him. "Fuck you, Potter!" he snapped, before storming off the dance floor.
~*~
Harry stared after his retreating ex in stunned disbelief. Things had been going swimmingly. He'd asked around and learned the name of the club where Draco was frequently seen, he had succeeded in snagging Draco's attention, and the dancing lessons that Dean and Seamus had indulged him in had been paying off. He'd had Draco in his arms again and was rejoicing in the sure knowledge that his former lover wanted to be there. Then suddenly, everything had gone pear-shaped, and Draco had been pushing out of his arms and stomping away, nearly knocking Seamus over in the process.
Harry was still standing on the dance floor when Seamus reached him and led him away. Settling his friend at a table, Seamus winced in sympathy when Harry buried his head on his forearms. "What happened, mate?" he asked.
Harry raised his head and sighed. "Draco Malfoy is a cruel, sadistic git, and I don't know what I ever saw in him in the first place," he mumbled.
Dean arrived and slid a drink in front of Harry, then sat next to his boyfriend. "What's going on?" he asked Seamus.
Seamus shrugged. "Malfoy is a prat and not worth Harry's time," he sighed.
Harry took a few gulps, then set his unfinished drink on the table between them. "I'm going home," he said dispiritedly. Sensing his need to be alone, his friends let him go.
Once Harry had left, Dean turned to his boyfriend and said, "Now what?"
"Now we go find Malfoy and beat the snot out of him," Seamus declared, cracking his knuckles.
~*~
Draco had gone to the bar and ordered a fresh drink. By a stroke of luck, he had managed to get a small table in the corner, and he sat there by himself, nursing his scotch and his pique. He shouldn't have blown up at Harry. Logically, he knew he had no right to be angry. He and Harry had broken up months ago, and Harry's personal life was no longer his business. However, he had been Harry's first lover, and the thought of him in someone else's bed had caused Draco to overreact. Shaking his head ruefully, he told himself that it was unfair of him to imagine Harry wouldn't replace him in the bedroom. After all, once Harry got over his initial shyness, he'd been bold and demanding and virtually tireless in bed. He probably hadn't waited long before taking a new lover.
Draco flinched when his glass shattered in his hand. Cursing, he plucked a shard from his palm, then performed quick healing and cleaning charms to rid the mess he'd made. He was still scowling furiously when an equally furious-looking Finnegan marched up to his table and declared, "Malfoy, you're a sodding prick, you are, and I hope you're happy."
"What are you on about?" demanded Draco. His temper needed an outlet, and arguing with Finnegan seemed the ticket.
"You've managed to upset Harry...again," snarled Finnegan. "What he ever saw in you, or still sees in you, I have no idea..."
"What do you mean, what he still sees in me?" interrupted Draco, intrigued despite Finnegan's posturing.
"Harry wanted to come to this club tonight to see you, and you were a complete arse to him!" seethed the former Gryffindor.
"Did he run out of available bed mates so soon?" sneered Draco. If it had occurred to him that Finnegan might take a swing, he might have been able to duck. As it was, Draco was caught by surprise and cleaned off his chair by the other's fist when it connected with his jaw.
Just as quickly, Finnegan had a handful of Draco's shirt and was hauling him to his feet. "How dare you?" hissed Harry's temperamental friend, giving Draco a shake for good measure. "Harry hasn't been sleeping around since you broke up with him, unlike you no doubt have, you Slytherin slut!"
Draco was so stunned by this revelation that he didn't even try to escape Finnegan's clutches. It wasn't until Thomas showed up and pried the other's hands free that Draco was released. "Go get our cloaks," Thomas hissed at his boyfriend. With one last sneer directed at Draco, Finnegan left to do as told.
Thomas turned to Draco and said stiffly, "I'd apologize for Seamus' behavior, but I suspect you had that coming."
Rather than address that remark, Draco instead asked, "Is it true that Harry hasn't been, er, playing the field much since we broke up?"
Thomas stared at him for a long time, as if taking his measure. Finally, he seemed satisfied that Draco was sincere, and he answered truthfully, "Harry has never been much of a player. He was devastated when you two called it quits, and it wasn't until recently that he let Seamus and I talk him into going out at all." He paused momentarily, then continued with a grin, "Even then, he refused to go clubbing with us unless we taught him to dance. I probably shouldn't tell you this, Malfoy, but he insisted on practicing until he got good enough to impress you, should you happen to meet again."
Draco felt his heart plummet, but he was spared having to make a response when Finnegan arrived with his and Thomas' cloaks draped over his arm. They left without a word, although Thomas spared him a glance and a nod before turning away. Draco sat down heavily once more, still stunned at what Thomas had revealed.
In the past few months, Draco had regretted the end of his relationship with Harry. There had been times when he had been tempted to contact his former lover to see if they could reconcile. However, he had always thought Harry was happier without him. Now, Draco knew that Harry missed him, as well, but then he'd gone and bollocksed it up by all but accusing him of sleeping around since their break up. Harry would never forgive him for that insult. "Oh, god, what have I done?" he moaned.
~*~
Over the next couple days, Draco had plenty of time to think about what had transpired at the club. He supposed it had occurred to him on some level that when he and Harry had ended their relationship that Harry would take another lover to his bed, but being confronted by that very real possibility had affected him more than he could have anticipated. He found himself seething with jealousy at the thought of another man kissing, caressing and pleasuring his Harry!
Only, he's not your Harry any longer, an insidious voice in his head insisted.
"We'll see about that," Draco snarled out loud. He missed Harry, and he was now determined to win his lover back...
~*~
Four days after the humiliating scene in the club, Harry returned to his flat, bone weary. He'd been working out extensively since then, in an effort to be able to sleep at night. It was either that, or drink himself into oblivion, and he wasn't that desperate...yet. He had finally admitted to himself that things were truly over between him and Draco, and that it was time to move on. Harry hung up his cloak and dropped his keys on the table just inside the door. Trudging into the kitchen, he stopped short at the sight that met his eyes.
Draco Malfoy was sitting at the table, as if he had every right to be there.
Harry shook his head to clear it, but Draco was still there when he looked again. "How did you get in here?" he demanded quietly.
Draco shrugged. "Your wards were still set to allow me to enter."
"Fuck," Harry muttered beneath his breath, crossing the kitchen to grab a butterbeer from the fridge.
Draco's shoulders tensed visibly. "Would you prefer it if I left?" he asked, steeling himself for the answer.
"No...yes...I don't know," Harry wavered. Sighing, he handed the bottle to Draco, then opened the fridge and helped himself to another.
They drank in silence for several moments, then Draco set his butterbeer down and said, "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."
Harry shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of beer. "I reckon you left something behind and came to retrieve it."
Draco's face broke into a smug grin as he replied, "You could say that."
Harry scowled. Sodding Slytherin prick, he thought. Aloud, he said, "Then finish your drink, get what you came for, and get out."
Draco's smile slid off his face. Stubborn damn Gryffindor, he mused to himself. Sitting back, he remarked, "I'm afraid it won't be as easy as that."
Harry slammed his bottle down with a bang, causing Draco to jump in alarm. "You had better not tell me you think I owe you money for anything," he snapped.
"No, of course not," Draco sniped back. Then, realizing that being baited into an argument was getting him nowhere fast, he leaned forward and took a deep breath, catching and holding Harry's eyes as he announced, "You are what I came back for."
Harry stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Do you think that's funny, or are you deliberately being cruel?"
"I'm being truthful," Draco said tightly, striving to keep his cool.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "So, let me get this straight," he began, as if speaking to a child. "We agreed to break up, because we could no longer tolerate one another's company. Then, several months later, we meet at a club, whereupon you all but accuse me of acting the whore, and now you want me back?"
Harry's voice had risen at the end, and Draco inwardly cringed. "Look, I apologize for how I reacted at the club," he began, "but I really would like to try again."
"Maybe I don't want to," huffed Harry.
Draco felt a momentary panic. "That's not what Thomas told me," he blurted.
Harry bristled immediately. "Dean was wrong," he sneered. "Now, get out."
"Harry, please just give me, give us, another chance," Draco tried, as close to pleading as he'd ever come.
Both bottles of beer shattered, spilling the remainder of their contents across the table. Harry's voice, however, was calm as he repeated, "Get out."
Draco knew when a strategic retreat was in order. He pushed his chair back and stood, heading out of the kitchen. Harry trailed after him, presumably to make sure he was really leaving. Draco opened the door, then paused in the doorway. "At least promise me you'll think about it," he requested softly, walking out without waiting for a response.
Harry closed the door quietly behind his former lover, then slumped against it, his forehead pressed to the cool wood.
~*~
Back at his own flat later that evening, Draco was in a full-blown sulk. He couldn't believe how badly his meeting with Harry had gone. He had presumed that Harry, with his Gryffindor nature, would appreciate the direct approach, but it was now obvious that the situation called for some more subtle Slytherin finesse on his part.
His mind made up, Draco finally fell to sleep, but his dreams were tormented by images of Harry having sex with faceless men.
~*~
Harry was at his desk the following morning when the flowers were delivered. He had a fair idea who had sent them, but he opened the card anyway, curious as to what the message may be. The enclosed note read simply:
Thinking of you.
~DM~
Well, that was...unexpected. Harry had rather thought Draco would have penned a note of apology, or a request for a date; not just a simple thinking of you. Unbidden, a small smile quirked his lips. If only Draco knew how often Harry had thought of him in the months since their break up. At first, Harry had felt a sense of freedom when the relationship ended. Suddenly, he could eat snacks in bed, and he didn't have to comb his hair on a Saturday if he didn't feel like it. But after about a week of being Draco-free, Harry had found himself missing his blond lover, and not just in his bed. He missed Draco's cooking and organizational abilities, he missed seeing Draco's toiletries in the bathroom, and he even missed Draco's snarky comments and short temper and the way he made fun of him for his lack of dancing ability. In short, he missed Draco.
Harry had spent several weeks brooding and refusing to leave his flat except to go to his job at the Ministry and to run necessary errands. His friends had tried to coax him out of his protective shell, most notably Ron and Hermione, and Dean and Seamus. The only problem was, they were couples, and Harry was...just Harry now. Hermione and Ron had finally conceded to his wishes to be left alone, but Dean and Seamus continued to badger him and threaten to take him clubbing. Harry had relented at last, but only if they would teach him to dance. He told them it was so he wouldn't make a fool of himself, but then he admitted he hoped he would encounter Draco sometime and be able to impress him with his new found ability.
That had been a spectacular flop. At first, Harry hadn't understood Draco's violent reaction on the dance floor to the announcement that he had been practicing dancing. It was only later, after speaking to Dean, that he realized Draco had jumped to the conclusion that what Harry had been practicing at was sex. He had been insulted and infuriated. Draco had been his first male lover, and Harry was not the type to bed hop. The fact that Draco believed he'd been promiscuous since their break up had left him cold. And now Draco had the gall to show up at his flat, saying he wanted him back. Harry snorted. As if he planned to make it that easy for the blond git.
On a whim, Harry picked up his vase full of flowers and presented them to the matronly receptionist in his department. She blushed prettily and thanked him, leaning forward to sniff the blooms appreciatively.
~*~
In retrospect, Harry should have known better than to go to his favorite bistro for lunch. He'd barely been seated when Draco slid into the chair across the table from him, saying, "Mind if I join you?"
As Draco didn't look to be leaving any time soon, Harry merely shrugged and returned to perusing the menu. Finally, as if unable to help himself, Draco asked, "Did you enjoy the flowers I sent?"
"Not as much as our receptionist is enjoying them," quipped Harry without even bothering to look up.
Draco frowned sullenly. It was obvious Harry was set on being difficult, so perhaps flowers hadn't been the best strategy. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to give up so easily. Taking a moment to calm himself, he finally inquired, "What are you having?"
"I'm having a hard time believing you're still here," snapped Harry, his eyes lifting to glare at Draco.
Draco straightened indignantly, but he maintained his composure. "There's no need to be rude, Harry," he said stiffly.
Harry was momentarily chagrined. He was acting a right prat, and in public no less. Striving to be civil, he tried to return the polite small talk. "I'm thinking of the soup and sandwich special," he said, answering Draco's previous question. "And you?" Two could play at this game.
Draco gave a noncommittal shrug. "I think perhaps I'll only have an ice cream."
Harry's entire body tightened at the mention of ice cream. When they had been together, Draco would often indulge in the treat, turning the eating of an ice cream cone into a sensuous oral seduction...one Harry had never been able to resist. More often than not, Draco would end up finishing his ice cream by lapping it off of Harry's body in bed, which inevitably led to fantastic sex. Draco, it seemed, was pulling out all the stops today, the sneaky Slytherin bastard.
The waiter appeared at that moment to take their order, but the interruption did nothing to diffuse the tension between the former lovers. Draco ordered a chocolate ice cream cone, knowing full well that Harry loved chocolate. For his part, Harry retaliated by ordering his sandwich with extra onions and a side order of French onion soup. That should keep Malfoy safely on the far side of the table!
Lunch was pure torture for Harry. Despite Draco's accusations at the club, he hadn't had sex with anyone but his right hand since they had broken up. Oh, he'd been on a couple dates, but neither guy Harry had gone out with had been able to hold his interest. Now he was stuck sitting across a table from his former lover and trying his damnedest to ignore the way Draco's talented tongue was swiping and lapping at his chocolate ice cream. It was on the verge of obscene, and it was causing an obscene reaction in Harry's trousers. He choked down part of his soup and sandwich without tasting any of it. When Draco bit the end off the bottom of his cone and began to suck the ice cream out of it, Harry had had enough. Standing abruptly, he tossed enough money on the table to cover the entire bill, generous tip included. As he turned to walk away, he heard Draco chirp, "Wanks!"
Harry spun around. "I beg your pardon?" he demanded.
"I said, 'Thanks'," Draco replied with an innocent shrug. One that was belied by the devil in his eyes.
~*~
Harry may have become immune to my charm, but at least he's still vulnerable to a subversive seduction, Draco mused to himself that evening. After his completely indecent devouring of his ice cream, he couldn't help but notice the bulge in Harry's trousers when he had stood to leave. Now that the heat is on, I need to keep fanning the flames until he cracks...
Draco indulged in a healthy wank and fell to sleep with a smile on his face.
~*~
Over the next few days, Harry learned what it was to be doggedly pursued. Not a day went by that Draco didn't send some gift to him at home or the office. Most of them were intended to remind him of the scorching sex that had dominated their relationship: ribbed condoms, cherry-flavored lube and a pair of handcuffs were just a few of the items he'd received. It was obvious Draco was all but daring him to give these gifts to his receptionist. Beulah would have a heart attack if he did. Harry himself nearly had a heart attack when he opened the package containing the cuffs. That had been a spectacular weekend, indeed.
~*~
"He's trying to wear me down, Hermione, and I just don't get it," Harry lamented at lunch on Saturday with his friend.
"What's not to get?" Hermione asked tartly. "Malfoy has stated he wants you back, and he's attempting to win you over. End of story." She took a sip of her tea, then continued, "The real question here is, why are you fighting it so much?"
"Huh?" Harry asked eloquently.
"Harry, you just haven't been the same since you and Malfoy broke up. There's no...sparkle in your eyes anymore. Much as I hate to say it, I think he was good for you."
Harry snorted. "He may have been good for me, but he wasn't always good to me, and there were times he gave the impression that he was too good for me."
Interesting, Hermione mused. She tried a different tact. "Well, then, if you don't plan to get back together with Malfoy, allow me to take this opportunity to tell you that I think he's a sneaky, good-for-nothing prat, and I'm glad you kicked him to the curb!"
"That's not true!" Harry exploded, heedless of the looks sent his way by the other diners in the restaurant.
"You didn't kick him to the curb, then?" Hermione prompted, hiding her grin. "He must have dumped you then--all the more reason to despise him," she shrugged.
"Draco did not dump me," hissed Harry. "We agreed, mutually I might add, to part company."
"Why?" asked Hermione, genuinely curious. Harry had refused to discuss the matter previously.
"I...we...I don't know!" cried Harry in frustration. He and Draco had had their share of differences and arguments, but what couple didn't? Why had they split up? Couldn't they have tried a little harder to work on things? They had been happy together, the sex was brilliant, and they shared many interests. It just seemed that the little things they'd argued about had taken over and made them forget the bigger things. "Oh god, what will I do?" he moaned.
~*~
It had been Seamus and Dean's idea to take Harry out that night to get his mind off things. Harry would have refused, had he known they were taking him to the same club where he'd had his unfortunate reunion with Draco exactly two weeks prior. His friends were unable to coax him out to the floor to dance, so they gave up and went themselves, leaving Harry to sit at their table and drink by himself. Seamus had bought a bottle of fine Irish whiskey, and Harry lost track of how many he had poured for himself. Was it three or four? He normally didn't drink much, and now he felt a bit muzzy.
"Drinking alone, Harry? One would think you're missing someone."
It was Draco. Of course, it was. No one else haunted Harry quite like his lover...er, his former lover.
Draco sidled into the booth opposite Harry and asked, "Did you enjoy the gifts I sent you?"
"Yes," Harry replied truthfully, cursing his inability to lie when he'd had more than two drinks.
The upbeat music in the club ended just then, and a slow ballad took its place. "They're playing our song," Draco remarked, extending his hand across the table. "Would you care to dance?"
Harry looked at him in confusion. "We never had a song," he said slowly.
"Then consider this it," Draco shrugged. His hand was still outstretched, and Harry finally took it, allowing himself to be led from the table and onto the dance floor. He stood stiffly for a moment, until Draco enfolded him in his arms, and then Harry sighed and melted into the other's embrace. They weren't dancing so much as swaying to the music, their shuffling feet taking them on a slow circuit of the floor.
Draco carded a hand through Harry's hair, marveling at how right Harry felt in his arms. How had he ever let this man out of his life? Taking heart from the brunet's relaxed posture, Draco gathered his courage and ventured to ask, "Do you think you could ever love me again, Harry?"
"I never stopped loving you," Harry admitted, blushing a little.
Draco felt a grateful lump form in his throat. "Why did we ever break up?" he whispered, the words barely audible over the strains of music.
"Because you're a prick," Harry muttered, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder and reaching up to tug a lock of blond hair.
Draco gave a snort of surprised laughter. "I suppose I deserved that," he said.
Harry leaned back to look at him thoughtfully. "I might have been a bit of a prick, too," he conceded.
Draco tried for a solemn expression when he questioned, "Whatever should two pricks like us do about our situation?"
Harry appeared to give the matter some serious thought. "I think whenever two pricks are together, there should be sex involved," he declared finally, nodding for emphasis.
"I think that's a brilliant idea," Draco agreed, "but first you'll have to sober up a bit." Taking Harry's hand, he began to lead him from the dance floor. They hadn't gotten far when they were accosted by Finnegan and Thomas.
"Where are you going with Harry, Malfoy?" demanded Finnegan, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"I'm taking him home," Draco replied calmly.
"We're going to have sex," Harry chirped with a bright smile.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dean asked him, obviously concerned.
Harry nodded so vigorously he nearly lurched into Draco. "He's a right prick, but I love him," he stated proudly.
"And what of you?" Seamus challenged Draco.
"I am a right prick," Draco stated, "but I love Harry, and I am taking him home with me."
Finnegan looked as though he would challenge Draco's assertion, but a whispered word from Thomas caused him to relent and back down. He stepped out of the way, allowing Draco to pass with Harry in tow. "Be careful, Harry," he muttered to his friend.
Harry grinned and gave him a wave as he willingly followed Draco out of the club.
~*~
Draco Apparated them to his flat and settled Harry in the kitchen with a cup of strong tea laced with a potion to sober him up. Draco sat across from him, sipping at his own cup of tea. Harry dutifully drank his, grimacing at the bitter flavor the potion added to it. Once finished, he sat back and licked his lips, eyeing his lover with interest.
Inexplicably, Draco felt suddenly nervous. "We have a lot to talk about," he hedged.
Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms casually on the table. "You've spent the past several days ruthlessly seducing me with those sexy gifts, and now all you want to do is talk?" he teased.
"I-well, we're going to have to talk at some point," Draco pointed out, although his protest was feeble at best.
"We can talk in the morning," Harry declared, rising to his feet. "Now, as I recall, you have a large, comfortable bed in this flat, and I'd like to get reacquainted with it...and with you."
Draco grinned in relief and moved to join his lover. Hand in hand, they made their way to the bedroom. Once they crossed the threshold, Harry dropped Draco's hand and with a whoop, he bounded across the room and flopped onto the bed, laughing as he bounced on the springy mattress. He toed his shoes off while his legs were still dangling over the edge, then he sat up and tugged his jumper over his head. "Come here," he growled softly.
Draco shivered. "My, you've gotten demanding," he murmured, working on the buttons of his own shirt.
"Several months of celibacy will do that to you."
Draco's head snapped up. "You...you haven't had sex with anyone since...since we broke up?" he asked incredulously, hopefully.
Harry flushed and shook his head. "What about you?" he dared to ask, already dreading the answer.
Draco swallowed heavily. He had said they needed to talk, and this was one of the things that had to be discussed. May as well put it out there and get it over with, he thought ruefully. Clearing his throat, he confessed, "There were a couple times, at different clubs, when I was dancing with some random bloke, and, well, things got intense, and I...Icameonthedancefloor," he finished in a rush.
Harry had felt sick when he realized Draco was about to admit to taking other lovers during their separation. He had steeled himself for the worst, and it took a moment for what Draco had admitted to to sink in. "You frotted on the dance floor?" he asked slowly. Draco nodded, not meeting his eyes. "But you didn't actually have sex with anyone?" Harry persisted.
"Not...not exactly, I guess...unless you count wanking" Draco said hesitantly, daring to look at his lover.
Harry was smiling at him gently. "Come here," he repeated. "Seems like we both have a lot of shagging to catch up on."
Draco felt giddy with relief, and he quickly kicked off his shoes and shucked his trousers before joining Harry in bed. His boxers did little to conceal his throbbing erection, and Harry's eyes seemed riveted to the sight. "Trousers off," Draco husked, and Harry scrambled to comply, undoing his black denims and tugging them off his hips before dropping them carelessly to the floor. His hands moved to his lover eagerly, but Draco sat back, out of reach, and said, "Just...just let me look at you a moment."
Harry reluctantly reclined back against the pillows, but the look of awe on Draco's face made the additional wait worthwhile. They reached for each other at the same moment, as if they could no longer bear not to touch one another. Suddenly, they were kissing and caressing, relearning the hard planes and sharp angles they'd once been so familiar with. Draco began stringing a series of tiny nipping kisses down Harry's chest and stomach, nuzzling his lover's groin through his boxers when he got that far. Sitting up, he drew Harry's boxers over his hips and off his legs, dropping them, and then his own, to join the other clothing on the floor.
Harry's legs opened, and Draco dropped between them, grasping Harry's cock and lapping at the head. Harry moaned and clenched his hands in the pillow behind his head to keep from grabbing and pulling Draco's hair. The blond went from licking to sucking in an instant, and Harry keened in response, his back bowing at the incredible sensation. Draco released his cock long enough to reach past Harry's head for the jar of lubricant he kept on top of his headboard. Opening the lid, he scooped out a liberal amount and slithered back down, taking Harry in his mouth once more. As he sucked his lover's cock, Draco reached beneath Harry's balls and located the tightly furled entrance to his body. Pressing one slick finger inside, he groaned at how tight Harry was, the vibrations of his vocalization tingling through the brunet's prick and drawing an answering gasp from Harry. Draco teased Harry's hole with the first finger, then added a second and began to work them in and out, preparing his lover to take his cock.
"Draco, please," Harry whined, writhing beneath the dual sensations of the blond's mouth around his shaft and his fingers up his arse, brushing against his prostate. When Draco ignored him, he finally grabbed two fistfuls of silky hair and tugged.
Draco released Harry's cock with a small hiss of pain. "Alright, alright," he relented, withdrawing his fingers and spreading the remaining lube on his own prick. Trembling with excitement, he scooted higher up between Harry's thighs and shifted into position, one hand maneuvering his cock head against Harry's opening. His lover's eyes were on him, wide and trusting, and Draco pressed home slowly, savoring the snug heat that enveloped his cock and the flush that spread from Harry's throat and into his face.
Harry grew impatient and arched up, flinching as he impaled himself on Draco's thick length.
"Are you okay?" Draco asked anxiously, shaking with the effort not to give in to his urge to thrust and thrust and thrust into the hot clasp of Harry's body.
Harry bit his lip, but nodded. "Yes," he sighed. "Now fuck me already."
Draco started out slowly, in an effort to be careful, but as Harry's knees drew up and he gripped Draco's hips with his legs, Draco was lost. He gave into Harry's demands and those of his own body and began to surge powerfully between his lover's thighs, his hips pumping steadily, driving his aching cock deep into Harry's slick heat over and over.
Harry nudged a hand between their bodies, grasping his own cock and tugging it roughly, panting in pleasure. The sex was hot and frenzied and too intense to last. Harry came first, shouting Draco's name hoarsely and painting the blond's belly with his release.
Draco's breath caught at the sensation of Harry's arse clamping down on him, and his thrusts came harder and faster until his own cock erupted in pulsing waves of pleasure. His head dropped to Harry's shoulder as he shuddered in climax, and when it was finished, he lipped Harry's throat lightly.
Harry draped one leg possessively across Draco's, wanting to hold his lover there and never let him go again. Draco stirred eventually, smiling as Harry's leg tightened over him. "I have to move," he teased quietly. "Let me catch my breath, and I'll give you another seeing-to in a bit."
"Promise?" Harry asked sulkily.
"Absolutely," Draco declared, disentangling them carefully. "After all, we have a lot of making up to do."
~fin~