FIC: There Is No Resurrection of the Dead (5/7)

[gypsyflame]

Title: There Is No Resurrection of the Dead

Author: Xandra ( gypsyflame)

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Snape/Draco, Snape/Harry/Draco, slight Draco/OMCs

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: About 35,400

Warnings: EWE, drug abuse, self-harm, non-explicit masochism, voyeurism

Summary: Auror Harry Potter is hopelessly in love with his partner, Draco Malfoy. But just when it seems like they might take their relationship to the next level, Draco’s old lover reappears. Apparently, rumours of his death have been greatly exaggerated…

A/N 1: Betaed by fbowden. Flic, I cannot express how much I appreciate all the time and effort you put into this fic with me. Your sharp eye, your keen insights, your emotional support…I’m not exaggerating when I say this would never have been finished without you. Thank you.

A/N 2: Story title comes from 1 Corinthians 15:12- “Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead?” Quote at the end of the fic comes from the same passage. Also, despite the opening scene, this is not a self-cutting, emo!Draco story, so please don’t let that deter you.

This fic is completed, but in the interest of not spamming people’s f-lists, I’ll be posting the chapters two a day, until the final chapter is posted on Thursday.



An hour later, Harry was slumped in front of the television with a beer, feeling sorry for himself one minute and like a maudlin fool the next. So Draco hadn’t reacted well. Harry had been through worse. He had died, for God’s sake! But he couldn’t remember having ever felt more depressed than he did right now, not even during those weeks Ron had left him and Hermione alone in the woods.

This was ridiculous. He was sitting alone in the dark, on his fourth beer in half an hour, staring at a telly that wasn’t even on, all because Draco had needed some time to think. Harry was disgusted with himself. He had never been prone to sulking, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

Thus resolved, Harry turned on the lights, Banished all the beer bottles, and then nearly had a heart attack when the Floo unexpectedly flared green.

“Potter?”

Any hopes Harry had that it was Draco calling were dashed by the sight of Blaise Zabini’s stupid gorgeous face in the fire. Still, if Zabini was calling, it was probably about Draco. Harry knelt by the fireplace.

“Zabini. Is Draco-”

“He’s here. And he’s fine. Physically, at least. What the fuck happened?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Not really. Although I heard enough to gather that it involved you, Snape, and something that sounded suspiciously like ‘pissing contest’.”

Harry sighed. Of course Draco had jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

“Potter.” Zabini’s face was serious. “Did you tell him?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, not even bothering to feign surprise. What was the point?

“Excellent timing.”

“Oh, not you, too,” Harry snapped.

Zabini laughed. “I’m serious. If you were ever going to tell Draco how you feel, now was the right time to do it.” He hesitated, as if unsure of his next words. “I don’t trust Snape. I mean, I trust him as a person, if you understand that, but I don’t trust him with Draco. I don’t trust that he won’t pull another stunt like this. And if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’d never hurt Draco.”

Harry’s head was spinning. Blaise Zabini- the consummate Slytherin- trusted Harry Potter more than his old Head of House? “You’d rather Draco chose me?” he asked uncertainly, just to make sure.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation this time.

Harry fought the urge to smile, knowing Zabini would take it the wrong way. “Er, thanks.”

“You didn’t hear this from me, Potter, but you might actually have a shot,” Zabini said. “Don’t fuck it up.”

***

Harry couldn’t sleep. It was one o’clock in the morning, and he was still staring up at his bedroom ceiling, turning Zabini’s words over in his head again and again. You might actually have a shot. What exactly did that mean? Did Zabini know something Harry didn’t?

He eventually fell into a fitful doze, only to startle awake at a soft noise from the hallway. Footsteps. There was somebody in the house, and they were heading for Harry.

Harry sat up and reached for his wand, leaving the lights off so as not to alert the intruder. There was enough light coming in from the window for him to see the door, and he aimed his wand at it, a Stunning Spell on his lips. He wondered how the person had gotten in. All the wards were still up, and the Floo alarm hadn’t sounded. It would take an extremely powerful witch or wizard to bypass Grimmauld Place’s defenses.

The door swung open.

“Stupe-”

Harry registered the glint of Draco’s hair just in time. He cut off the hex so abruptly that he bit his tongue. Draco, eyes wide, threw his hands up in surrender.

“Merlin, Potter,” he said. “Paranoid much?”

Harry turned on the lights and dropped his wand on the bed. “Draco, what the hell were you thinking? I almost Stunned you!”

“Why? Who else would be in your house at this time of night?”

“Maybe one of the dozens of people who still want me dead?”

“Oh, please,” Draco scoffed. “This place is like a fortress. If you were under attack, the whole neighborhood would know.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. Harry suddenly realized that Draco was in his bedroom. Draco. In his bedroom. He wondered if he might still be asleep.

He cleared his throat. “Er, what are you doing here, anyway?”

“Right.” Draco fidgeted, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “I…I have to ask you something.”

“And it couldn’t have waited until morning?”

Draco glared at him. Harry immediately felt better; this was much more familiar.

“Okay,” Harry relented. “Do you want to sit down or something?”

“No!” Draco looked almost panicked. “No,” he said more calmly. “I’m fine here.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but decided not to comment. “So what did you want to ask me that was so incredibly urgent?”

“I want to know why.”

Harry waited, but apparently that was all Draco was going to say. “I’m going to need you to be more specific than that,” he said.

“Why now? Why tell me now?” At Harry’s blank look, Draco said, “We’ve been partners for five years and you never said a word. Then Severus comes back and all of a sudden you’re in love with me? You’ll understand if I find that a little suspicious.”

Actually, it had never occurred to Harry that Draco might interpret his actions that way, although it probably should have. “I was waiting for you. I was waiting for you to finish grieving him, to get past all your guilt. Then Snape was alive again and it looked like I was going to lose you, and I just knew that if I didn’t say something I would always regret it.” Seeing that Draco looked unconvinced, Harry added, “It had nothing to do with him and me, or our past. This isn’t a…a territory thing, or revenge. I was just trying to be honest.”

“Of course you were,” Draco mumbled to himself. Then, to Harry, “What if I had never gotten over him? What if I had never gotten past it?”

Harry didn’t even have to think about it. “I would have waited forever.”

Draco looked away, swallowing hard. “I don’t understand.”

Harry frowned, honestly confused.

“You’re Harry Potter, and I’m…” Draco shook his head. “I understand you wanting me, but I don’t understand the other.”

“What do you mean, I’m Harry Potter? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, come on. You’re this paragon of goodness and light-”

“Paragon of goodness and light?” Harry repeated incredulously.

“-and I…you know what I’ve done, you can’t possibly-”

“What you’ve done? You mean repeatedly saved my life?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“No, Draco,” Harry said. “What I know is that you hate yourself so much that you can’t imagine why anybody would ever care about you.” He paused. “Except Snape, for whatever reason.”

“He’s made worse mistakes than I have,” Draco said defensively.

“And you still love him.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It is the same!”

“I was a Death Eater!” Draco hissed, like he expected Harry to be appalled. “I tortured people, I tried to kill Dumbledore, I almost killed your best friend-”

Harry wasn’t about to sit through a listing of all Draco’s wrongdoings. “You didn’t do any of that willingly. You were trying to save your parents. I understand that.”

“Stop making excuses for me!”

Harry stared at him, shocked into silence.

“You always do this,” Draco said. “You try to assign these noble motives to what I did, because it makes you feel better. But the truth is that everything I did, I did because I was afraid. I was afraid, and I was too weak to make the right decisions.”

“You’ve changed.”

“I haven’t.”

“You have,” Harry insisted. “You were strong enough to pick up the pieces of your old life and build a new one. You were strong enough to reject your father’s brainwashing and make friends with Hermione. But most of all, you were able to admit that what you did was wrong, and that means more to me than anything else.”

It seemed like Draco might argue, but then he just shook his head, defeated. “You shouldn’t love me,” he said softly.

“I can’t imagine loving anyone else.” Harry pushed the covers aside and stood up, moving towards Draco slowly, as if he were a skittish horse. “It’s not like I’m blind to your faults. You can be vain, spiteful, arrogant, petty-”

“Okay!” Draco interrupted. “I get it.”

Harry stopped an arm’s length away. “The point is that all of those things just make me love you more. So don’t insult me by insinuating that I don’t know the real you.” He closed the gap and tilted Draco’s chin up, forcing him to look Harry in the eyes. “I know exactly who you are. You’re Draco Malfoy, and I love you.”

He could see Draco’s natural cynicism warring with his desperate desire to believe Harry. Moving his thumb to trace along Draco’s cheekbone, Harry leaned in and kissed him gently, putting all of the love he felt into that gentle press of lips against lips.

Draco let out a little sigh and kissed him back. Harry thought it would be okay with him if this kiss went on forever, even though they weren’t really touching; their lips and Harry’s hand on Draco’s face were their only points of contact. But Draco’s mouth was achingly sweet and soft under his, and when he felt the hesitant flicker of a tongue, Harry couldn’t help but moan.

Draco pulled away. “Stop,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “We shouldn’t…I can’t promise you anything.”

Harry pulled him back, resting his hands on Draco’s shoulders. “Just tonight. Just give me tonight. I swear I won’t expect anything else.”

He could tell Draco’s resolve was weakening and pressed his advantage, threading his fingers through Draco’s hair and pulling him into a kiss that was nothing like the last. Harry took Draco’s mouth with bruising force, nipping at his lower lip and thrusting his tongue inside to slide against Draco’s own. Draco melted against him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pressing their bodies together, making them both moan.

They stumbled toward the bed until Harry felt the edge hit the back of his thighs. He sat down, pulling Draco onto his lap without breaking their kiss. Draco smelled dizzyingly good, like expensive soap and whisky, and Harry let his hands roam all over Draco’s body as he kissed his way across Draco’s face and down his neck. Draco practically purred, arching his neck to give Harry better access.

Struck by a sudden need to make sure Draco really wanted this, Harry pulled back to look at him. He wasn’t disappointed. Draco’s eyes were glazed and his skin flushed, and he made a protesting noise when Harry stopped kissing him. This was the Draco of two nights ago, the Draco of his fantasies, not the emotionless automaton from yesterday.

Harry attacked the buttons on Draco’s shirt, popping a few of them off as he struggled to undo them with trembling hands. Draco pulled off the shirt and tossed it carelessly on the floor, then tugged on the hem of the T-shirt Harry was wearing. Harry helped Draco strip it off. They kissed again, pressing their bare chests together, revelling in the feel of skin on skin.

Harry slid his hands over Draco’s arse, not missing the way Draco jerked against him when he squeezed it. He stood, lifting Draco just long enough to turn around and drop him gently onto the bed. Draco stretched out, catlike, and Harry moved to cover that long, lean body with his own.

They kissed for what felt like years, lost in the exploration of each other’s mouths and skin. Harry hadn’t done this since he was a teenager- just kissed someone for this long. Their hips, still separated by layers of cloth, rocked together in a lazy rhythm, and their soft sighs and occasional moans were the only sounds that broke the silence.

All too soon, though, Harry felt the familiar urge to move faster, to get more friction against his aching cock. But he didn’t want to come this way. If this was going to be his only time with Draco, he wanted to make it count. He wanted it to last.

He drew back, sitting up so that he was straddling Draco’s hips. Draco reached up as if to pull him back down, but Harry caught his wrists gently, lowering them to the bed above Draco’s head. Draco inhaled sharply at that, and when Harry let go, he kept his arms there- as Harry had known he would.

“Let me take care of you,” Harry said.

Draco nodded, eyes wide. Harry used his wand to dim the lights and then returned his attention to Draco’s throat, kissing his way down the pale, graceful column, only pausing to suck at the pulse point. He moved further down, scattering kisses over Draco’s collarbone and chest, learning the taste and feel of Draco’s skin. To his great delight, he quickly discovered that Draco’s nipples were extremely sensitive, and he spent an inordinate amount of time teasing them with his tongue and fingers.

Draco arched under Harry, hips moving restlessly as he made soft, gasping moans. But he kept his arms exactly where Harry had put them. The thought made Harry even harder, and he had to pause for a moment, resting his head on Draco’s chest as he fought the impulse to rub himself off on Draco’s leg.

When he felt sufficiently in control of himself again, he moved on, kissing Draco’s stomach, letting his tongue swirl around and into the navel in a mimicry of fucking. He moved down further and bestowed one hot, open-mouthed kiss on Draco’s cock through his trousers before pulling away completely. Harry smirked at Draco’s disappointed groan.

He quickly divested Draco of his shoes and socks, dropping them on the floor without care for the fine leather and cashmere. Draco lifted his hips to help Harry slide his trousers and pants off, and then he was gloriously nude, practically preening at Harry’s hungry gaze.

In the soft glow of the muted lamps, Draco seemed otherworldly. His hair shone like platinum, his skin like moonlight, and he obviously delighted in Harry’s admiration.

“Beautiful,” Harry whispered.

Draco smiled- a real smile, not a smirk or a sneer. The sight was so rare and precious that Harry’s breath caught.

His eyes were drawn inexorably to Draco’s fully-erect cock, already glistening with precome. He unconsciously licked his lips in anticipation, and Draco moaned.

This was new for Harry. He had been with other men before; after Ginny had broken up with him, he had realized that if he ever did get a chance with Draco, he didn’t want to be a bumbling incompetent. So he had slept with several men- all Muggles, all strangers. But even though he had enjoyed the sex, it had never felt like this before, this burning, all-consuming need. He’d never actually been eager to have another man’s cock in his mouth. Until now.

He settled himself comfortably between Draco’s slightly-spread legs and took his cock in one hand, kissing the head before drawing his tongue up the underside in one broad stroke. Draco made a kind of sobbing noise and tried to push his hips up, but Harry hastily used his free hand to restrain him. Starting at the base, he worked his way up Draco’s cock with his tongue, treating it rather like he would an ice cream cone. After swirling his tongue around the head, Harry took pity on Draco and swallowed it whole, taking as much of it as he could and sucking hard.

Draco finally moved his hands, bringing them down from above his head and tangling them in Harry’s hair. Harry had to use both hands to hold Draco’s hips down, and he stroked the hipbones lightly with his thumbs as he worked Draco’s cock. He rubbed his own cock against the bed, aroused beyond belief by the sounds Draco was making- breathy gasps and moans and pleas. He’d never had such a vocal partner before, and he thought he could get used to it.

But he wanted more. Without ceasing his attentions to Draco, Harry Summoned the jar of lubricant from the bedside table both wandlessly and silently. Another silent spell had the jar unscrewing itself. He chanced letting go of Draco’s restive hips with one hand to coat his index finger in the slippery liquid, then rubbed the finger teasingly over Draco’s hole.

Draco let out an emphatic, heartfelt “Yes” and pushed against Harry’s finger. Harry obliged him by pushing the digit in slowly, working it in and out of Draco’s arse in time with the movements of his mouth on Draco’s cock. Draco became incoherent, and his hips couldn’t decide if they wanted to push forward into Harry’s hand or up into his mouth.

Harry crooked his finger, searching for…ah. Draco yelped as his hips lifted right off the bed. He tugged on Harry’s hair.

“Potter, I’m going to-”

Harry pressed against Draco’s prostate again and gave his cock a particularly hard suck. Seconds later, Draco cried out wordlessly and came, arching into Harry’s mouth, his arse clamping down around Harry’s finger. Harry didn’t move his mouth away until he had swallowed all Draco had to give.

He withdrew his finger and sat back on his heels, feeling a swell of pride as he regarded the man he had just brought such pleasure to. Draco’s eyes were closed, his skin dewy with sweat and his cheeks pink as he tried to catch his breath. He looked completely boneless and sated. And Harry had made him feel that way.

Of course, Harry wasn’t done with him yet. Not by a long shot.

He stripped off his own pajama bottoms, then reached over and grabbed the pillow from the opposite side of the bed, the one Draco’s head wasn’t resting on. He squeezed Draco’s thigh encouragingly. “Lift up.”

Draco lifted his hips without opening his eyes, and Harry pushed the pillow underneath him so that his arse was at a more accessible angle.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Draco’s eyes flew open and his cock jerked, starting to grow hard once more even though he had just come. His eyes met Harry’s and his breathing sped up again. After a long, charged moment, he slowly spread his legs open, giving Harry an unobstructed view.

Harry’s hands fisted in the bedclothes, trying to keep ahold of himself. Draco’s submission was breathtaking. He lunged forward, capturing Draco’s mouth in a quick, harsh kiss. He bit Draco’s lower lip gently before resuming his position by that gorgeous arse. Harry wanted to see Draco’s face while he did this.

He dipped two fingers into the jar, scooping up a generous dollop of lube. He traced just the rim of Draco’s hole.

“Potter,” Draco said warningly.

Harry slipped his fingers inside, just to the second knuckle, and moved them in and out slowly.

“Potter.”

Harry smiled and abruptly buried both his fingers in Draco’s arse, picking up the pace considerably. “Like that?”

“Yes,” Draco gasped. “Merlin.” He pushed his hips against Harry’s fingers as they stretched him. “More.”

Harry added a third finger, watching the way Draco bit his lip and threw his head back, the way his hands scrabbled against the blankets for something to hold on to. He found Draco’s prostate again and rubbed it, drinking in the sounds that produced.

“Please,” Draco said, his head moving restlessly on his pillow. “I need-”

“I know what you need,” Harry said. The words sounded oddly familiar to him, but he had more important things on his mind.

He withdrew his fingers and slathered some more lube on his cock. Then he knelt between Draco’s legs and lifted them around his own hips. Draco automatically crossed his ankles as Harry lined his cock up with his hole. But there was something…

“Open your eyes.”

Draco did, with some reluctance. Harry held his gaze as he sank slowly into his arse. Draco took a shaky breath and raised his hands to rest them on Harry’s shoulders.

God, Draco was tight and hot and perfect. Harry started to move, rolling his hips smoothly as he thrust, taking his time. He stroked Draco’s hair, not breaking eye contact. Draco soon grew uncomfortable, though, and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry leaned down and kissed him.

They moved like that for an eternity- Harry thrusting slowly and steadily, showering Draco’s face and neck with kisses, trying to make it last as long as he could. Draco was soft and warm under him and around him, and Harry never wanted it to end. But nothing could last forever, and Harry’s cock, which had been denied for too long, was screaming for release. Harry slipped his arms under Draco’s back and wrapped his hands around Draco’s shoulders from behind, steadying himself. He sped up his thrusts.

Draco responded beautifully, canting his hips up to meet Harry’s every movement, clutching Harry’s shoulders almost painfully as his moans grew louder and more frequent. Harry tried a couple of different angles before getting the right one, wringing a cry from Draco as he hit his prostate.

“Yes, right there, oh Merlin, Potter-”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said, his breath coming in short pants. “Don’t call me that when I’m inside you.”

Startled, Draco opened his eyes. “Harry,” he said tentatively, like he was testing it out. Then, as if he couldn’t stop himself, “Harry, Harry, Harry…”

Harry moaned at the sound of his name spilling from those lips like prayer. He gripped Draco’s hips and drove into him faster, harder- so hard that Draco had to brace himself against the headboard. He was hitting Draco’s prostate with nearly every stroke, and Draco cried out sharply each time he did so.

“Touch me, Harry, please-”

Without slowing his relentless pace, Harry wrapped his fingers around the silky length and stroked firmly.

“Look at me.”

Draco shook his head, eyes shut tight. Harry rubbed his thumb over the head of Draco’s cock.

“Look at me.”

Helpless against Harry’s commanding tone, Draco did as he said.

“I love you,” Harry said, trying to communicate it with every thrust of his hips, every stroke of his hand. “I love you.”

Draco came, screaming.

Harry milked Draco’s cock all the way through his orgasm, then let go and leaned forward again, burying his head in Draco’s neck as he fucked him, all sense of rhythm lost. He could feel his climax approaching, and he had the sudden urge to mark Draco, to make him his own. He bit Draco’s neck, right at the base by his collarbone. Draco gasped and stiffened, and his arse got impossibly tighter around Harry’s cock. Harry muffled his shout against Draco’s shoulder as he came.

He slumped onto Draco’s body, feeling like he’d just run a marathon. Underneath him, Draco was breathing just as heavily, and Harry could feel his heart racing. Harry realized he should probably get off of Draco before he crushed him. He withdrew carefully and rolled to the side.

He took a second to just look at Draco, to marvel at the beautiful, amazing creature who had given him the best sex of his entire life. Draco was already half-asleep; he didn’t resist when Harry pulled him close and turned him on his side, spooning up behind him.

Harry kissed Draco’s hair, breathing in his scent. He didn’t even bother cleaning them up before he dropped off to sleep.

***

When Harry woke up a little after noon, Draco was gone.

Chapter Six

Back to Chapter Four