FIC: Give My Heart 3/5
There was an Order meeting the next afternoon, during which Potter locked Draco in his room - literally. Draco understood the need for it, but knowing that Severus was in the same house yet being unable to see him drove Draco mad. Ever since last night, Draco hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him; even now, his cock was pressing uncomfortably against the placket of Potter’s denims. He knew Severus would come upstairs eventually, to “check up on him”, but every minute he had to wait felt like an eternity.
Draco was sitting on his bed, tense and edgy, when he felt Severus removing the spells on the door. He leapt to his feet, but he didn’t trust himself to move any closer. Jumping on Severus in an open doorway would not be a good idea.
Severus entered and quickly shut the door behind him, setting the standard privacy wards. Draco waited, trembling with repressed anticipation, until Severus had holstered his wand and looked across the room at him. From his posture, Draco could tell that Severus was just as on edge as he was himself.
“Draco,” he said in a low voice.
Draco fairly threw himself across the room and into Severus’ arms, pulling Severus’ head down for a fierce kiss. He gripped Severus’ hair as he bit at his lip, Severus’ tongue thrusting into his mouth and twining with his own. The taste of Severus, so long denied him, only served to make Draco more frantic in his need. He pressed his hips against Severus’ and moaned into his mouth.
Severus used his hold on Draco’s hips to turn them around, pushing Draco up against the door none too gently, tearing his mouth away from Draco’s only to bite his neck. Draco let go of Severus’ hair and jerked at the buttons of his robe.
“Need you,” he said.
Severus muttered the spell that undid the many buttons - they would have been there all day, otherwise - and cast the robe aside. He returned his mouth to Draco’s throat, licking and sucking, while he yanked open Draco’s trousers. He groaned when he found that Draco wasn’t wearing pants.
Draco wasn’t wearing shoes or socks, either, so it was the work of seconds to push the too-large denims down his legs and kick them away. Severus’ hand closed around his cock and started stroking it roughly.
“Yes,” Draco hissed, back arching, but he immediately followed that with, “No,” pushing Severus’ hand aside so he could concentrate on opening Severus’ trousers. “Fuck me. Now.”
Severus drew his wand from his shirtsleeve. “Shall I -”
“Just use the spell. I don’t care.”
Draco wasn’t referring to the spell that conjured lube, but to a different spell that they very rarely used. Its purpose was to instantly prepare the body for penetration, foregoing the need for foreplay. A useful spell, in theory, but in practice it was extremely uncomfortable. Both Draco and Severus preferred the non-magical method of preparation, but Draco couldn’t wait. He needed Severus inside him now.
Severus tapped the tip of his wand against Draco’s hip and cast the spell. Draco winced at the discomfort of his arse being stretched too quickly and slicked with cold lubricant, but the feel of Severus’ magic running through him took the edge off somewhat. Severus dropped his wand on the floor and lifted Draco off his feet, his cock sliding inside with one smooth thrust.
Draco’s head fell back against the door with a painful thud, but he barely felt it next to the pleasure of finally being filled with Severus’ cock. He wrapped his legs around Severus’ waist and gripped his shoulders as Severus fucked him in short, shallow strokes. Severus’ hands were strong and secure on his arse, holding him up effortlessly, and Draco had no fear of being dropped.
“Severus, oh, yes -”
Severus pressed his face against Draco’s neck, his breath harsh and heavy against Draco’s skin. His hips snapped faster and faster, turning Draco’s words into incoherent moans.
“I can’t get deep enough,” Severus said. “Hold on to me.”
Draco clung tightly with his arms and legs as Severus stepped back from the wall, lowering them both to the ground until Draco was lying flat on his back with Severus on top of him and still buried in his arse. Severus resumed thrusting, much deeper now, and Draco gasped. His hands fell from Severus’ shoulders, one clutching at the carpet and the other fisting his cock.
Severus leaned forward a bit, his angle just right, and Draco climaxed powerfully, writhing beneath Severus and coming all over both their shirts. He lifted his head and bit down on Severus’ throat, right where Severus liked it best. Severus let out a deep-throated groan, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled himself deep inside Draco.
As always, Severus’ orgasm was accompanied by a rush of pure magic - sex had a power of its own. Draco welcomed it, letting it flow through his body, warm and strong and protective.
Severus collapsed on top of him, panting. “God,” he muttered.
Draco hummed in agreement, letting his legs drop from Severus’ waist. His thighs ached horribly, but it had been well worth it. Severus kissed his shoulder, then pulled out and rolled off to the side. He put his hand on Draco’s stomach and stroked softly as they recovered.
Severus was the first to break the comfortable silence. “Loathe as I am to say this, we should review your memories.”
Draco nodded with a sigh, sitting up and reaching for his trousers.
Once they were both dressed - which hardly took any time at all, considering that they hadn’t really undressed in the first place - Draco extracted the appropriate memories and placed them in the Pensieve.
He sat on the bed while Severus reviewed them. It took longer than it had last time, and Draco quickly grew restless and bored. He wondered if he could talk Severus into having another go when he was done.
Draco stripped off his clothes and slid beneath the covers, stroking himself to hardness again. It gave him a strange thrill to do it while Severus stood nearby but unaware - as if he were doing something illicit.
Severus finally lifted his head from the Pensieve and began transferring the memories to the vial. “The nightmare was well done,” he said without turning around. “Though I must say that your little speech about hating the Dark Lord skirts dangerously close to the truth.”
“Do you think he’ll see through it?”
“No. He is far too arrogant. Duplicato.” Severus waited until the second vial had been filled before disconnecting the tube. He finally turned around, raising his eyebrows when he saw Draco in the bed.
“How long before you have to go back?” Draco asked.
“I could spare another hour, perhaps.” Severus stepped closer to the bed. “Did you have something in mind?”
Draco pulled the covers back to show that he was naked and hard beneath them. “I thought I might suck your cock until you’re ready to fuck me again,” he said, proud when he managed to get the entire sentence out without stammering or even blushing.
Severus’ eyes darkened as he moved to join Draco on the bed, and there were no more words.
***
Over the following week, Draco and Potter acted out a series of carefully planned encounters intended to demonstrate their developing “relationship”, their conversations gradually becoming friendlier and more personal as the days went by. Draco added to that by accidentally-on-purpose touching and brushing up against Potter whenever possible. He took particular pride in being able to catch the git off-guard, as if that made up for his own unsettling reaction to Potter’s magic. He even went so far as to pull the old and clichéd trick of dropping something and bending over in front of Potter to show off his arse.
Potter took it all in stride, although he did sometimes get satisfyingly flustered. For the Dark Lord’s benefit, he had to act as if he was starting to find Draco attractive, but Draco could tell that it wasn’t all acting.
He wasn’t sure if he was pleased about that or not.
They had decided to cap off the week with another one of Draco’s nightmares, since that seemed like a good way to show how well things had progressed between them. Draco was settling into bed in preparation when a sudden impulse prompted him to remove his pajama top and stash it under the bed. They’d see how well Potter dealt with that.
Just like last time, Potter rushed into the room at the sound of Draco’s screams, sitting on the bed beside him and talking him down. Potter faltered for a moment when he touched the bare skin of Draco’s shoulders, but he quickly regained his composure and ignored Draco’s shirtless state in favour of attempting to calm him.
Instead of pushing Potter away or breaking down like he had before, Draco sat up and took a few deep breaths as if trying to shake off the dream. Potter let go of him but continued to watch him closely.
“Maybe you should start putting a Silencing Spell on my room,” Draco said ruefully.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
After a moment of silence, Draco asked, “Do they ever stop?”
“I’m probably not the best person to answer that. I have nightmares all the time.”
“I’ve never heard you.”
Potter gave him a lopsided half-smile. “That’s because there is a Silencing Spell on my room.”
Draco wondered if that were true. It probably was. He felt a sudden stab of sympathy for Potter.
To distract himself from the unwelcome emotion, Draco let the covers, which he had been clutching to his chest, fall casually to his waist. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Er, that’s okay,” said Potter, his eyes travelling over Draco’s bared skin. “Don’t worry about it.”
Draco looked down as if he’d just remembered his shirtless state. “Oh. I - the pajama top you gave me is so big that it’s uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“You’re not cold?” Potter reached out and ran his hand up Draco’s arm to his shoulder.
Draco hadn’t been expecting Potter to touch him, and he took a sharp breath at the feeling of warm, calloused skin against his own.
Potter snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to…I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” said Draco.
“I should let you get back to sleep.” Potter practically jumped off the bed, seeming quite disconcerted. His cheeks were tinged a bit red. “You’ll be okay now, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Good. That’s good,” Potter said as he backed away towards the door. “Er, see you tomorrow, yeah?” He was gone before Draco could respond.
Draco waited for Potter to come back in, but after a good ten minutes he realized that wasn’t going to happen. It probably wasn’t important, because nothing had gone wrong that would prevent Draco from showing the Dark Lord this memory, but it was still odd. This time Potter didn’t even have the potential excuse of thinking Draco had fallen asleep.
Draco shook his head and decided to put it out of his mind. Potter was a strange bloke, and that was all there was to it.
***
Severus came the next day to collect Draco’s memories. They managed to keep their hands to themselves until they’d finished, and the sex was nothing short of delicious.
Afterwards, though, as they lay panting in Draco’s ruined bed, an uncomfortable silence descended. Draco knew that Severus was thinking the same thing that he was himself, but he also knew that Severus wouldn’t talk about it unless Draco forced him to.
Draco rolled over to face Severus and waited until he had the man’s full attention. He couldn’t think of any delicate way to put the reality of the situation, so he decided to just state it baldly. “The next time I see you, I’ll have had sex with Potter,” he said.
Severus’ nostrils flared with displeasure. Draco could actually see him struggling not to let his anger and jealousy show on his face.
“I know that,” was his clipped reply.
“You know I don’t want to.”
Severus scowled and sat up. “Are you blaming me for our situation?”
“What? No, of course not.” Merlin, Severus could be so touchy sometimes. Draco sat up as well, so that he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. “I just want to make sure you know that if I had a choice, I would stay faithful to you.”
“And I am forcing you to prostitute yourself to Potter.”
“Severus, stop it,” Draco snapped. He knew what Severus was doing - becoming defensive and insulting in an attempt to conceal his emotions. It was a strategy Draco had employed himself countless times, but he wasn’t going to stand for it now. “Nobody’s forcing me to do anything, least of all you. If sleeping with Potter a few times is the key to ending the war - well, even I’m not selfish enough to refuse that. But I don’t want to. I don’t want him. I only want you.”
“Potter is a far better match for you than I am,” Severus said, his voice tense.
“Don’t be an idiot.” Draco returned Severus’ ensuing glare with equal fierceness. “There is no better match for me than you.”
Severus just scoffed and looked away. Time for more drastic measures.
“Do you know what bothers me the most about sleeping with him?” Draco asked. Severus didn’t answer, but Draco hadn’t expected him to. “It’s that he’s taking something that belongs to you - something that’s only ever belonged to you.” Draco put his hand on Severus’ face and gently turned him so they were eye to eye. “There was a time I thought that you would be the only man I ever had inside me. That’s what I wanted. It’s what I still want. Potter’s going to take that away, and there’s a part of me that hates him for it.”
“Draco,” Severus said, his eyes softening considerably. He ran his thumb over Draco’s lips. “You are a very foolish boy.”
“Perhaps. But I’m yours. Whatever happens with Potter won’t change that.”
As Severus leaned in to kiss Draco, he whispered, “I believe you.”
***
The next few days passed without incident as Draco and Potter continued to build their fake relationship, but there was a mounting tension between them that was impossible to ignore. The closer they got to the planned date of their tryst, the more difficult it became to pretend that it wasn’t going to happen. Draco had never felt more awkward in his life.
He had been concerned that they might be rushing things, moving too fast, because it was imperative that the Order find and destroy Hufflepuff’s cup before the Dark Lord planned his ambush. But they had gotten a strong lead on the Horcrux’s whereabouts - Potter was convinced it was somewhere in Gringotts. Draco felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment at the news. It would have been nice to have an excuse to delay things.
The Day arrived far too soon, and Draco found himself in the Grimmauld Place library with Potter, trying to talk Weasley into helping them.
“I’m not going to lie, Harry, I mostly agreed to this because Hermione did,” Weasley was saying. “I never thought it was a great idea, to be honest.”
“It’s working so far,” said Potter. “Snape says that Vol…You-Know-Who is happier than he’s ever seen him. He’s falling for it.”
Weasley remained skeptical. “I don’t know…”
“Look, Weasley,” Draco interrupted. “What skin is it off your nose if this doesn’t work? If the Dark Lord figures it out, the only person he’ll be able to reach to punish is Severus. But if he doesn’t figure it out, if it does work, then you’ll benefit from it as much as everyone else. It’s pretty much a win-win situation for you.”
“You two are completely nutters.” Weasley shook his head in incredulity. “I can’t believe you’re actually willing to sleep with each other on the off chance that You-Know-Who isn’t a complete idiot and won’t be able to tell that the whole thing’s a sham.”
“Hey, I think we’re pretty good actors,” Potter said. “Or Malfoy is, at least. And even I can’t be that bad.”
He actually looked to Draco for agreement on that one, like a puppy waiting to be petted. Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re perfectly adequate, Potter.”
“I don’t care if you’re the best actors the world has ever seen,” said Weasley. “There are some things that just can’t be faked, and this is one of them.”
Draco smirked. “Perhaps we should ask Granger if she’s of the same opinion.” Weasley glared at him, opening his mouth to retort, but Draco cut him off. “I already told you that it doesn’t matter if you agree with what we’re doing. Now, there’s no love lost between you and me, but you’re supposed to be Potter’s best friend. Are you going to help us or not?”
“I don’t see why Hermione can’t do it,” Weasley grumbled.
“Because Granger is a mature adult with a relatively even temperament. We need someone who’s the opposite of that.”
“Malfoy,” Potter said, sounding exasperated. “Not helping.”
“Fine,” Draco sighed. To Weasley, he said, “You get to hit me in the face.”
Weasley brightened. “For real?”
“Yes. But not the nose.”
“I’m in,” said Weasley.
***
After briefly coaching Weasley on what he needed to say and do, Draco sent him out of the library with instructions to come back in five minutes. He and Potter set themselves up on one of the couches, sitting close but not touching, and they pretended to read in companionable silence.
Weasley came barrelling into the library exactly as he’d been told, breathless and agitated. “Harry, I need to -” He stopped short as his eyes fell on Draco. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Something wrong, Ron?” Potter asked.
“You could say that. What are you thinking, letting him in here? He could see things -”
“Like what?”
“Like things he shouldn’t be seeing!” Weasley hissed. Continuing to speak as if Draco weren’t in the room, he added, “You don’t know he’s not a spy.”
“Yes, I do,” said Potter, setting his book aside and standing up. “And even if he was, how would he be able to tell anyone anything? He can’t leave, he doesn’t have a wand or an owl -”
“You two do realize that I’m sitting right here.”
At Draco’s words, Weasley and Potter turned from each other to look at him, the former’s frown intensifying while the latter’s softened. Draco was pleased to see that it provided a lovely and quite telling contrast.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Weasley said. “You may have brainwashed Harry somehow - and don’t think I won’t figure it out - but you’re still Death Eater scum to me. I’m just sorry You-Know-Who didn’t get you when he got your parents.”
“Ron!” Potter shouted, sounding horrified and angry at once, but Draco jumped out of his seat and pushed Potter out of the way to confront Weasley himself.
“How dare you,” he snarled. “My parents were worth ten of yours. At least they never had to crawl about Diagon Alley begging for handouts -”
Draco knew he wasn’t supposed to brace himself for the punch, that it would hurt more if he was stiff and resistant, but he couldn’t help it. As Weasley’s fist connected painfully with his cheek, making him stagger backwards, Draco could only hope he hadn’t made it obvious that he’d been expecting it.
His hand flew instinctively to his face. Although he felt slightly dizzy from the blow, Draco focused on Potter, who had jumped between him and Weasley and drawn his wand.
“Get. Out.” Potter’s voice was tight and thrumming with rage.
Weasley’s jaw fell. “You’re not really going to defend him?”
“Hurt him again, and you’ll find out.”
“Merlin, what’s happened to you, Harry?” Weasley said with disgust. “I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Then there’s nothing keeping you here, is there? Get out.”
There was a tense, drawn-out moment in which it seemed like Weasley might try to press his case, but then he turned and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Potter relaxed, lowering his wand, and turned back to Draco.
“Are you okay?”
“Why did you do that?” Draco asked, ignoring Potter’s question and letting disbelief seep into his voice.
“Do what?” Potter tugged Draco’s hand away from his face. “Let me see.”
“Stop him. You didn’t have to - ow, Potter, don’t!” Draco didn’t have to fake his flinch or his annoyance when Potter pressed a thumb against the bruise on his cheekbone.
“Sorry. He got you pretty good. And I did have to stop him. He was way out of line.” Potter gave him a stern look. “Although you shouldn’t have said that thing about his parents.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Draco muttered.
“I know. Do you want me to heal that for you?”
It was on the tip of Draco’s tongue to say yes, as they had planned, when something occurred to him that he should have considered much earlier. Potter needed to heal him, both so that he could feel like a hero and so that Draco didn’t have to deal with a bruised face. But, as Draco was now realizing, that meant that Potter was going to cast a spell on him, not just near him. And healing spells were much more powerful than levitation spells.
Considering the effects even that minor spell had had on Draco, there was no telling how he would react to this.
It was too late to back out, though. Potter was waiting. “All right,” Draco said. He closed his eyes.
Potter gently placed the tip of his wand against Draco’s face and murmured the spell. Draco gasped, eyes flying open as the magic shot through him, warming him from the inside out - like drinking hot chocolate on a cold day. Every cell in his body seemed to expand with warmth as all of the tension melted from his muscles. It was exceedingly pleasant.
“Better?” Potter asked as he sheathed his wand.
Draco nodded wordlessly. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in years.
Potter took hold of Draco’s chin and tilted his head up to examine his handiwork. “Good as new,” he pronounced, running his thumb over Draco’s now pain-free cheekbone.
Draco met Potter’s eyes with his own, feeling a curious lack of anxiety. He knew Potter was going to kiss him, but he wasn’t worried about it. In fact, his breath picked up a little at the thought. He just felt so good.
Potter looked back at him, still stroking his face lightly. His gaze dropped to Draco’s mouth. He leaned in ever so slowly, hand moving around to the back of Draco’s head, and then his lips brushed against Draco’s.
Leaning into the soft, tentative kiss, Draco let instinct guide him as he kissed Potter back. The warmth in his veins and the floatiness in his head urged him to move slowly, even delicately, his hands coming to rest on Potter’s hips as Potter’s hands cradled his face. He flicked his tongue against Potter’s lower lip.
Potter groaned, and the tempo of the kiss changed suddenly as he slipped his tongue into Draco’s mouth, stepping closer to press his body against Draco’s. The kiss became deeper and more urgent, warm and wet and lovely, and Draco moaned into it.
He had prepared himself for the worst, expecting Potter to be a horrid kisser with an overeager tongue, but nothing could be further from the truth. Potter’s kisses were enthusiastic, yes, but they had an edge of hesitancy that was strangely thrilling. Draco had never experienced anything like it, and though it felt odd to be kissing someone the same height as him and to feel glasses against his face, it was also undeniably pleasurable.
Draco had no idea how long they had been kissing before Potter shifted, his erection pressing insistently against Draco’s thigh. With a start, Draco realized that he was just as hard himself. And there was no way Potter couldn’t feel it.
Just like that, the fuzzy, pleasant warmth that had been suffusing his body dissipated, leaving Draco ice-cold. He remembered who he was, who Potter was, and precisely why he shouldn’t be enjoying this kiss nearly as much as he was.
Draco jerked away from him in horror, breaking the kiss. Potter made a noise of protest and tried to follow him until Draco shoved his chest, forcing him to back up a bit. Potter opened his eyes, frowning in displeasure, and then suddenly froze.
They stared at each other, and Draco knew his own eyes had to be at least as wide as Potter’s. For a few long moments, they both just stood motionless in shock. Draco finally remembered what he was supposed to do next, and fortunately, it was exactly what his instincts were screaming at him to do.
He fled.
***
Draco shut his bedroom door and leaned against it, heart racing and head whirling. Of the seemingly millions of thoughts racing through this mind - including Merlin where did Potter learn to kiss like that and How could I let myself get so carried away - one in particular repeated itself over and over:
I don’t want Severus to see that.
Though he had worried about what might happen once Severus saw the memories of him having sex with Potter, Draco had reassured himself with the thought that at least Severus would be able to tell when his participation was enthusiastic and when it was simply perfunctory. And of course, Draco had never imagined that for him, sex with Potter would be anything but perfunctory. The thought that had once comforted him now did exactly the opposite - because Draco had honestly enjoyed that kiss, and Severus would know. After all, he had kissed Draco enough times to know what it looked like when Draco was enjoying himself.
Draco slid down to sit on the floor, his back still against the door. It’s not your fault, he told himself firmly. You never would have reacted like that if it weren’t for Potter’s magic. Severus will understand.
Yes, Severus would understand. But that didn’t mean he would be understanding. Severus was one of the most logical men Draco knew, yet at the same time he was capable of acting completely irrationally - especially where Draco was concerned. Severus was possessive and jealous, and worse, he was insecure about Draco’s commitment to him. Seeing Draco rubbing himself all over Potter like a cat in heat would do nothing to assuage his doubts - and that had just been a kiss.
Draco forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He was getting far too worked up, and he couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now. Potter would be up in half an hour to see the rest of the scene through; Draco had to be in complete control of himself by then.
He would just have to make absolutely sure that Potter didn’t cast any more spells. The magic of the sex itself might affect Draco a little, but it wouldn’t be until near the end, when it wouldn’t matter as much. If he didn’t have to deal with Potter’s magic, Draco could remain appropriately detached. That would make up for the ridiculous kiss.
He hoped.
***
By the time Potter knocked on the door, Draco had calmed himself considerably. He had decided that he had probably overreacted; the kiss hadn’t been that intense. He just wasn’t thinking clearly because he was nervous. Everything was going to be fine.
“Malfoy?” Potter said uncertainly.
“Go away.”
“We should talk.”
“No.”
“Please, we need to…Can I come in?”
“No.”
There was the sound of a heavy sigh. “I’m coming in anyway.”
Draco scrambled off the bed. “Don’t you dare -” He stopped short as Potter stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Are you deaf?” Draco snapped. “I said no.”
“Sorry, I just…I think we need to talk about what happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
Potter frowned. “We kissed.”
“We did nothing. You kissed me.”
“You kissed me back!”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Draco said stiffly. Inwardly, he was pleased with how things were progressing. He was still calm and in control, Potter was doing a good job of looking both indignant and confused, and everything was going according to plan. So far, so good.
“Yes, you did,” said Potter, a bit of irritation colouring his tone. “I’ll admit that I may have started it, but you sure as hell didn’t push me away.”
“You caught me off guard.”
Potter clenched his jaw. “You’re such a coward.”
“What?”
“What I can’t figure out is if you’re just lying to me, or if you really believe your own bullshit.” Potter shook his head. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of what this might mean, you know. But you are the only one running away from it.”
“I’m not running from anything, Potter, because it meant nothing,” Draco spat.
The anger that crossed Potter’s face made Draco draw back a little, even though he knew it wasn’t real. Potter was so earnest and even innocent at times that it was easy to forget that he was not only a powerful wizard, but a toughened soldier. This wasn’t one of those times.
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
“Believe what you want, Potter. It doesn’t change anything. Now get out.”
Potter gave him a hard look. Then, rather than turning towards the door, he began walking swiftly towards Draco, who immediately started backing up.
“Potter, what are you -”
Draco’s back hit the wall, and less than a second later, Potter’s mouth was on his, urgent and demanding. Draco lifted his hands to Potter’s shoulders as if to push him away, but instead his hands fisted in the fabric of Potter’s shirt and pulled him closer.
This kiss was nothing like the first. Potter was no longer hesitant; he seemed intent on proving something. He pressed Draco against the wall, hands tight on Draco’s hips, and kissed him hard. Draco gave back as good as he got, refusing to let Potter take control of the kiss. He was relieved to note that without the influence of Potter’s magic, he wasn’t tempted to lose himself in the man’s embrace.
Although Potter was still an excellent kisser, damn him.
Potter broke the kiss without moving away. “Still want to tell me you’re not kissing me back?”
Draco pushed at his shoulders. Potter looked taken aback for a second before he realized that Draco wasn’t pushing him towards the door, but towards the bed. Then he grinned.
Draco kept backing Potter up until his legs hit the mattress and he sat down hard, never taking his eyes from Draco, who straddled his lap and leaned in to kiss him again. The battle for dominance resumed, surprisingly invigorating.
With Severus, there was never a question of dominance. Severus was in charge in the bedroom, and they both wanted it that way. Even when Draco got aggressive - which was rare - Severus was still in control. Draco liked it; it made him feel safe, and it turned him on like nothing else.
But Draco would marry a Hufflepuff before he let Potter dominate him. Just because he had to let the man inside his body didn’t mean he had to submit to him. Draco had learned that from his mother.
So he did his best to take charge of the kiss, and it was…fun. It wasn’t as arousing as submitting to Severus, but that was probably a good thing. Fighting with Potter, challenging him and being challenged himself, just felt right.
Potter didn’t object. He placed a line of biting kisses down Draco’s neck, which distracted Draco just long enough for Potter to grab him round the waist and roll him over so that they were lying flat on the bed with Draco on the bottom. Potter moved his mouth back to Draco’s, swallowing his protests.
Draco slipped his hands under Potter’s shirt and dragged them up his back, digging his nails into the skin. Potter hissed. Draco grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it upwards as if to take it off, but he stopped once Potter’s head was free, trapping his arms in the material. He took advantage of Potter’s limited mobility by pressing his weight against Potter’s hip and throwing himself over so their positions were reversed.
Potter’s arms were stretched over his head, bound by the shirt. Draco grabbed his wrists and held them against the bed so he couldn’t take it off.
“You tricky bastard,” Potter said with a laugh.
Draco felt a smile tugging at his mouth, but he tamped it down. He’d never had the urge to laugh during sex before.
He released Potter’s wrists and settled himself more comfortably on Potter’s hips; an unmistakable erection pressed against his arse through their denims. Draco’s own cock was more than half-hard and swelling rapidly. He had the niggling feeling that he shouldn’t be getting so hard so quickly, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Potter kept his arms in place as he watched Draco strip off his jumper, eyes watching Draco’s every move in a hungry way that Draco found flattering even though he knew it was just for show. Draco leaned forward for another rough kiss, raking his nails down Potter’s chest this time.
Groaning, Potter finally rid himself of his shirt, tossing it carelessly aside without breaking the kiss. He sucked Draco’s lower lip into his mouth and bit, his hands running over Draco’s arms and back.
For a moment, Draco was thrown by the unfamiliar touch. Potter’s hands were larger than Severus’, and they were calloused where Severus’ weren’t. They felt odd against his bare skin - not bad, exactly, just different.
Perhaps sensing Draco’s sudden uncertainty, Potter flipped them again. He kissed the hollow of Draco’s throat as one of his hands traced the skin just above Draco’s waistband. “Is this okay?” he asked breathlessly.
Draco nodded, then moaned when Potter’s hand cupped him through his trousers - cautiously at first, then more firmly. It was obvious that Potter had never touched another man’s cock before. Draco had thought he would find that annoying, but it was actually exciting. He’d never been with a virgin of any kind. His only lover had had decades of sexual experience by the time Draco had slept with him.
Potter popped the button and eased the zip down before sliding his hand inside. “God,” he said when he encountered Draco’s bare cock, “you really don’t wear pants.”
It took Draco a moment to figure out what Potter meant. Then he remembered his first day here, when he had gone to Potter’s room dressed only in a towel and demanded clothes. Either Potter really had believed Draco when he’d said he didn’t wear pants, or he was a better actor than Draco gave him credit for, because his voice held a mix of surprise and arousal.
Potter freed Draco’s cock from his trousers, and Draco was suddenly, absurdly embarrassed. Potter was looking at his cock. Potter was going to see him naked. It was ridiculous - Potter was going to be seeing and doing a lot more than he was right now - but for some reason, it was the simple act of Potter looking at his cock for the first time that brought home to Draco just how awkward the whole situation was, flustering him and making him blush.
He could feel the control of the situation slipping away from him. To even the scales, Draco reached for Potter’s trousers. But the tricky angle, combined with the experimental movements of Potter’s hand on his cock, made it impossible for Draco to do more than unzip them. “Off,” he said impatiently, tugging at the material.
Potter obediently rolled off of him and shucked the rest of his clothing while Draco did the same. Once Potter had set his glasses on the nightstand, they turned back to each other. Draco’s eyes were immediately drawn to Potter’s cock. Though he had been determined not to spend the entire time comparing Potter to Severus, the evaluation was automatic: Potter’s cock was shorter but also thicker, curved upwards very slightly, and was altogether quite pleasant to look at. Draco couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed.
To Draco’s annoyance, Potter didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. He eagerly resumed their kiss, moving as if to lay atop Draco again. Draco nipped that thought in the bud, swinging his leg over Potter’s hip to keep them both on their sides. Because they were the same height - also a new experience for Draco - the position made it possible for them to kiss and rub their cocks together at the same time, without either of them being dominant.
It also gave Draco a chance to collect himself. Just because kissing and rubbing against Potter felt good didn’t mean he could forget why they were doing it in the first place. He couldn’t afford to lose himself like he had earlier, particularly since it seemed that Potter - unsurprisingly - was unable to think straight when he was turned on.
Potter was sucking at the juncture of Draco’s neck and shoulder and frotting enthusiastically against him. Draco didn’t know what kind of stamina Potter had, but odds were it wasn’t much. It was crucial that Potter fuck him - the Dark Lord wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less. If Potter came like this, they’d have to start again from the beginning.
Draco urged Potter’s mouth back to his own, gentling the kiss in an attempt to slow things down. He stroked a hand down Potter’s side and rested it on his arse. Hopefully that wasn’t too subtle a reminder.
Fortunately, Potter took the hint. He let his hand slide up Draco’s thigh and cupped an arsecheek, squeezing it lightly. Draco did his best to ignore the flare of lust deep in his belly.
“Malfoy,” Potter whispered against his neck. “I want to…” He paused and licked his lips nervously. “Can I - can I fuck you?”
Draco drew back a bit to look at him. “Have you ever done this before?”
“Not with a man. Have you?”
“Yes. If you’re sure…” Draco let the last word trail off with a bit of hesitation.
“I’m sure.”
“All right. We just need - ” Draco practically bit his tongue to keep back the fatal words that had almost spilled out. He had been about to tell Potter to cast the lubrication spell, as he wasn’t used to being the one to do it. But of course he couldn’t let Potter cast it. There was absolutely no way he was going to let Potter do magic with them naked in bed together. “Hang on.”
Draco rolled to the side to retrieve his wand and an empty water glass from the nightstand. He used the glass to catch the conjured lubricant, pleased when it came out nicely slippery instead of sticky. He turned onto his back and handed the glass to Potter.
“Use your fingers first,” he said.
Potter nodded, lying on his side next to Draco and gathering up some lube with his fingers. Draco spread his legs to allow Potter access, fighting the blush that was working its way over his body. Potter’s hand ran teasingly over his balls and perineum before the pad of his index finger pressed gently at Draco’s hole.
Draco relaxed his muscles, letting Potter’s finger slide inside him. Potter moved it cautiously and very slowly - frustratingly slowly. At this rate, it was going to take them hours to finish.
Draco arched his back as if he were enjoying it and rubbed Potter’s shoulder, forcing a smile onto his face. “That’s good. I can take another. And you don’t have to be so careful. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
Ugh. Draco was revising his opinion on sex with a virgin not being annoying. He wondered if Severus had been this frustrated during their first time - although there were several mitigating factors that made Draco sure he hadn’t been.
He grunted at the addition of a second finger - they were thicker than he was used to. Potter immediately stilled. Draco closed his eyes so Potter couldn’t see him rolling them. “I’m fine,” he said; it took serious effort to keep his voice soft and reassuring. “You’re not hurting me. Keep going.”
Potter started moving his fingers again. Even at his slow, careful pace, the stretch felt good, and Draco hummed in pleasure. He pushed his arse against Potter’s fingers to try to encourage him to move a little faster.
Thinking about how thick Potter’s cock was, Draco said, “One more.” Better to be safe than sorry.
Potter pushed in a third finger. Draco sighed at the pleasant feeling of fullness. He was about to open his mouth to tell Potter he was ready, when Potter’s fingers accidentally brushed against his prostate. Draco couldn’t stop the low moan that escaped him, nor could he keep his body from seizing up with pleasure.
He opened his eyes to find Potter looking back at him with much of the same surprise he felt himself.
“Er…prostate?” Potter asked, as if he wasn’t certain that was the right word.
Draco could only nod. Potter rubbed his fingers against the spot more deliberately, making Draco gasp. His fingers tightened on Potter’s shoulder as he gripped at the sheets with his other hand, unconsciously spreading his legs wider and grinding down on Potter’s hand.
“Fuck,” Potter breathed.
That brought Draco rudely back to himself. He tried to slow his panting breaths as he reached between his legs, pushing Potter’s hand away. “Stop,” he said, then, mindful of Potter’s insecurity, he added, “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”
Potter looked a little too pleased with himself for Draco’s taste. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Put some more lube on your cock first.”
While Potter followed his instructions, Draco took a few deep breaths and wished - for the first time in his life - that he weren’t so intensely responsive to prostate stimulation. He purposely hadn’t shown Potter how to find his prostate because he’d known how he would react. It had never occurred to him that Potter might find it himself.
Potter moved to kneel in front of Draco. “Like this?”
Draco nodded, draping his legs on either side of Potter’s hips and using one hand to help guide Potter’s cock to his hole. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the side as Potter pressed slowly inside him, fighting the suddenly powerful urge to shove the man away. He didn’t want this.
Potter doesn’t want it either, Draco reminded himself. This is just one more thing to hate the Dark Lord for.
Potter stopped when he was only halfway in. “God,” he said, muscles trembling with the strain of holding himself back. “Oh, fuck. It’s so tight.”
If Potter came now, Draco would kill him. He ran his fingers through Potter’s hair in a manner he hoped came across as soothing rather than threatening. “Take a minute.”
He was startled when Potter leaned down and kissed him. It seemed appropriate, though, so he allowed it. Soon Potter was moving again, pushing forward until he was fully seated in Draco’s arse and then thrusting in slow, rocking movements.
It felt good - not as deep as Draco was used to, but the greater width of Potter’s cock made up the difference. He ran his hands mindlessly over Potter’s back and shoulders while Potter kissed his neck. Keeping his eyes closed made everything easier, though Draco quickly realized that it was going to be impossible for him to imagine he was with Severus. Potter and Severus were simply too different, both in the way they felt and the way they fucked.
Potter started thrusting faster and with more force, biting down on Draco’s shoulder surprisingly hard. Draco cried out in a mix of indignation and unwelcome arousal, prompting Potter to lick the bite apologetically.
“God, Malfoy - Draco,” Potter muttered against Draco’s neck. “Feels so good…wanted you for so long…”
Draco raised his eyebrows at Potter’s ad-libbing. He didn’t object to it - the Dark Lord would eat it up - but he was a little surprised. Potter had always been uncomfortable with improvisation before, wanting Draco to tell him exactly what to say and do and then following his directions to the letter.
“Potter -”
Potter lifted his head to look at Draco, his pupils dilated and eyes intense without his glasses. “Harry.”
“What?”
“Call me Harry. Please.”
“Er…all right,” Draco said, confused. They hadn’t talked about this, although in retrospect, he really should have thought of it himself. If Potter was being successfully seduced, of course he would want Draco to call him by his first name. Experimentally, Draco said, “Harry.” The name felt strange in his mouth.
Potter groaned, his head dropping back down to Draco’s neck as his hips snapped even faster. Draco gripped his shoulders and tightened his legs around Potter’s waist, enjoying the more forceful fucking despite himself.
Panting, Potter said, “I want to make you feel good. Tell me what to do.”
Draco hesitated. He needed to come to make this look realistic, but he didn’t really need Potter to do anything more than he was doing right now - with a little assistance from his own hand, he would be able to make it over the edge, even if it wasn’t exactly satisfying. But it would look strange to the Dark Lord if he denied Potter’s request.
It would be easier if he knew how to fake powerful sexual pleasure, but he’d never had reason to learn to do that, and he wasn’t confident enough in his abilities to risk it. That decided him, though he’d certainly be having words with Potter later.
“Lean back a little,” he told Potter, considering the easiest way to get his prostate from this position. “On your knees.” Draco drew his own knees up to his chest, settling his feet on Potter’s shoulders. “Good. Now angle…up.” He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it.
It took Potter a few tries, but on his fourth or fifth thrust, he managed to bring the full weight of his cock against Draco’s prostate. Draco moaned, digging his fingers into Potter’s thighs as he pushed his hips up in search of more. Potter gave it to him, much more confident now that he knew the right angle, his hands holding Draco’s legs so tightly that they were probably going to bruise.
Draco didn’t care; all of his attention was on the thick cock sliding in and out of him, battering his prostate in a way that made him breathless. He had to put one hand above his head and brace it against the headboard to keep Potter’s enthusiastic thrusts from driving him into it. The pleasure spiralling outwards from deep in his arse made his toes curl and his back twist. Why had he thought this was a bad idea?
“Yes,” he sighed. “Oh, P - Harry, that’s so…don’t stop.”
“Feel good?”
“Mmm.”
Draco let go of Potter’s thigh to grasp his own cock and wank it roughly. He pushed aside the thoughts of Severus that tried to intrude - there was enough time for guilt later. He’d never be able to come if he started thinking about it now.
“Harder,” Draco said, needing the physical pleasure he was feeling to overwhelm his emotional ambivalence.
Potter obliged. The cock pounding his arse and the hand tugging on his own cock finally managed to bring Draco to orgasm, and he bit his lip to keep from making too much noise as he stroked himself through his climax.
It seemed that Potter hadn’t been expecting the powerful contractions of Draco’s arse around his cock, because he shouted in surprise and lust before falling forward over Draco’s body and slamming his cock in once, twice more and coming hard himself.
Draco shrieked when Potter’s magic rushed into him, racing through his body and setting every nerve on fire. He writhed beneath Potter as his body shook with aftershocks, his spent cock twitching. It was so good that it was actually painful, and even though it only lasted a few seconds, it left Draco limp and drained. He felt like Potter had fucked him for hours instead of minutes.
Potter didn’t notice anything amiss, slumped on top of Draco and breathing hard. The urge to sleep, even though Potter was still inside of him, was almost irresistible. It was a struggle for Draco just to keep his eyes open.
He summoned what strength he had left. “Potter.”
A grunt was his only reply.
“Potter.” Draco lifted his hand - it felt like all the bones in his arm had turned to lead - and pushed feebly at Potter’s shoulder. “We’re done. Get off.”
“Right, yeah,” said Potter, a little dazedly. He pulled out slowly, making them both hiss at the sensation, and then sat up. “I’ll go back to my room, just give me a second - ”
“You have to stay.”
“Why?”
“The Dark Lord has to see us waking up together. That’s a memory I can’t fake. So you have to stay here.” Draco closed his eyes, exhausted even from that short speech.
“Oh. Okay.” Potter lay back down, pulling the covers over them both. “Do you want me to…er, clean up?”
Draco’s eyes flew open. “No!” There was no telling what would happen to his body if he had to endure more of Potter’s magic. “Don’t bother. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“All right,” Potter said slowly. “Good night, then.”
Draco barely mumbled in response. He rolled onto his side, facing away from Potter, and immediately fell asleep.
***
When Draco woke the next morning, it was in the exact position he had fallen asleep in, and his neck was killing him. Actually, his entire body was sore, although most of it was the satisfying kind of soreness that came from being well-fucked.
The thought made Draco’s stomach clench unpleasantly as he remembered what had happened last night. Potter had fucked him. He had enjoyed it. Those were two thoughts should never accompany each other.
A loud snore interrupted his brooding. Draco scowled and turned onto his other side to look at Potter, who was sprawled on his back with his mouth open. The sooner Draco woke him up and acted out the last memory they needed, the sooner he could kick the git out of his room.
He nudged Potter’s shoulder, remembering at the very last second to use his first name. “Harry.”
Potter didn’t stir. Draco rolled his eyes and gave him a shake.
“Harry. Wake up.”
“No,” Potter muttered, his eyes still closed.
Draco’s irritation increased. He had neither the patience nor the willingness to let Potter have a lie-in when he himself was itching to get this over with. Accordingly, he leaned over Potter and pressed their lips together.
Potter tensed in surprise and confusion, tentatively returning the chaste kiss that had woken him. Draco drew back.
“Good morning,” he said with a small smile.
Potter just blinked at him. Draco started worrying that Potter had forgotten what he was doing here. If the idiot fucked this up by breaking character -
Potter’s bewildered expression cleared, replaced by a smile that was much less restrained than Draco’s. “Hey.”
Thank Merlin. Draco lay back on his side and said, “You should probably get back to your room before anyone realizes you didn’t sleep there.”
“I don’t care who knows.” Potter reached out to push a strand of Draco’s hair behind his ear. “Do you?”
“Only in the sense that I’d rather not have Weasley beat me to death.”
“That’s not going to happen,” said Potter. “I won’t let him touch you again.” Diffidently, he added, “Er…last night…”
Draco lifted an eyebrow expectantly.
“Was it good?” Potter’s cheeks flushed a little. “I mean, for you. I know it was good for me.”
This hadn’t been in the script, either. Draco wondered what had happened to make Potter so much more confident with improvisation. “It was very good,” he said. “In fact, if you bring me breakfast in bed, I might be convinced to let you do it again.”
Potter laughed and kissed the tip of Draco’s nose - much to Draco’s consternation - before grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, rolling out of bed, and searching for his clothes. He seemed completely unselfconscious about his nudity. “Eggs and bacon okay?”
“Perfect.” Draco made himself stop watching Potter get dressed. Yes, Potter was attractive, objectively speaking, but Draco had no business ogling him. The very fact that he wanted to watch Potter walk around naked was a sign that there was something seriously wrong with the universe.
Potter zipped up his denims and pulled on his T-shirt, not bothering with socks or shoes. He came around to Draco’s side of the bed and leaned down to kiss him again - on the mouth, this time. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Potter left the room, only to open the door again less than ten seconds later. He hovered in the doorway. “So,” he said, his uncertainty a sharp contrast to his cheerful demeanor of a few seconds earlier. “Did everything go okay?”
“Fine,” Draco said, glad that he no longer had to pretend to be happy. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
And there wasn’t - not for Potter, at least. Everything had gone quite smoothly. If Draco hadn’t had Severus’ reaction to consider, he would have felt quite relieved himself.
“Good. Do…er, do you really want me to bring you breakfast?”
Draco was about to say no, when he considered the fact that going down to the kitchen to eat would require spending more time with Potter. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“Thank you.”
Potter bit his lip, then blurted out, “Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I just - I know this must be hard for you -”
Draco suddenly realized that he was still naked, and worse, he still had Potter’s come inside him and his own come on his stomach. He pulled the covers up higher, trying to ignore the itch and desperate to make Potter leave so that he could clean himself up. “It isn’t hard for you?”
Potter looked taken aback. “Well, yeah, I guess. But you have Snape, and I don’t…have someone like that.”
“Severus and I will be fine.” Draco hardened his tone to disinvite further discussion.
“Okay,” Potter said, lifting his hands. “I’ll be back with breakfast.”
He left, for real this time. Draco grabbed his wand and cast a few cleaning spells, his own words echoing through his head.
Severus and I will be fine.
But would they?
Part Two
Part Four