HP Fanfic: "Promises Made" (Harry/Draco) (R)
Title: Promises Made
Author: khasael
Beta: groolover
Rating: R that wants to drift to NC-17
Word Count: ~1650
Disclaimer:All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry's always hated Valentine's Day. But perhaps things are looking up.
Author's/Artist's Note: Written for the Lip-Locked Valentine's exchange at hd_seasons.
It was pouring rain, and the weather did nothing for Harry's mood.
Also not helping was the fact that his buzz was losing some of its lustre. Whereas an hour ago he had felt like he was floating pleasantly along, now he just felt off-kilter. And everyone else he knew seemed to have someone to go home with tonight. The longer he stayed at the pub, the more he began to realise how wretchedly lonely he was. Virtually everyone else was either flirting like mad or had progressed to drunkenly trying to devour their partner for the evening. He had no one. No comfortable relationship to go home to, no new acquaintance to spend the evening with, no prospect of going home with anyone.
He hated Valentine's Day.
Well, he had thought to himself as he paid his tab, at least it's better than that date at Madam Puddifoot's with Cho.
He was slogging his way down the street in the rain, cursing himself for being too damned drunk to Apparate home, when he spotted something that caught his eye. The something was actually a someone, and as Harry watched the figure stumble out the door of a nearby club, he raised his eyebrows.
"What're you staring at?" the figure called out.
Harry started. Even drunk, and even though the other person's words were slightly slurred, he knew that voice. He heard it quite often at the Ministry. Usually, it was pompous and rude. "Malfoy?"
The figure, who, yes, was blond, though his hair was darkening as the rain soaked it, stood up a little straighter. "Potter? What are you doing here? Going to arrest me for public intoxication?" He approached, still seemingly sure on his feet, though the slightly unfocussed gaze and slurred speech said he was already three sheets to the wind.
He came right up to Harry and poked him in the chest. Hard. "Just go ahead and try it. Splash my name all over the papers again. At least people know I'm interesting."
Malfoy's breath smelt of scotch. Harry thought he might be less drunk than he appeared, but he wasn't willing to bet money on that. "Can hardly arrest you for the offence when I'm just as guilty as you are," he said with a roll of the eyes.
Smirking, Malfoy let out a little laugh. "You, drunk? I suppose you're not quite as boring as I thought, then. I had you pegged for the very epitome of restrained and lawful."
Harry snorted. "Then you really are a clueless git. I don't know who you've been talking to, but no one would ever call me 'restrained'." He had the reprimands to prove it.
"Oh, is that so? Passionate, forceful, and wild, are you?" Malfoy pressed closer, and Harry wondered briefly exactly how they had got so close and why he had not shoved the other man away. He no longer hated the very sight of him, as the war and its aftermath had altered his perspective on a lot of things. But the little contact they had at the Ministry hadn't exactly made Harry want to go and seek out the other man for company, either. Malfoy may not be evil the way Harry had once thought, but he wasn't sunshine and bunny rabbits, either.
"I might be," he said, the words coming out in a surprisingly sure tone, cocky in a way that rivalled most of Malfoy's own casually sarcastic comments. Malfoy still had his fingertips pressed into Harry's sternum. Their faces were only centimetres apart. And why hadn't either of them pulled away yet? Harry could feel tension-Merlin help him if it was something else-between them, nearly palpable. It seemed to call to him, asking him to come closer, promising not to bite (at least, not any harder than he wanted).
"Yeah?" Malfoy said, cocking his head slightly to the side. "Prove it, Potter. Do something interesting. Shock me." He shook his head and muttered to himself. "As if you could."
Resisting challenges had never been Harry's strength. He did the most shocking thing he could think of: he grabbed Malfoy by the biceps, swung them both around so Malfoy was the one pressed up against the brick wall, and leaned his face in close. If one of them so much as twitched, their noses would touch. "There. That shocking enough for you?"
Malfoy looked at him wide-eyed for a split second before his eyes narrowed. "It's a start, I suppose. I thought you might be onto something, but I was wrong. Disappointing showing, overall, Potter."
Harry felt irritation flood through him. "Disappointing? What did you have in mind?"
Malfoy shrugged as much as Harry's grip would allow him. "For a brief moment, I thought you might try to satisfy some sexual urge. Truth be told, Potter, I wasn't certain whether I'd let you get away with it."
Harry thought about the way Malfoy had put up no actual resistance to being grabbed, the way he had not fought back when pressed against the wall, and made up his mind. Between the blood surging through him and the alcohol clouding his thinking, action was the only thing he felt he could rely upon.
Reaching up, Harry slid his fingers through the wet hair at the back of Malfoy's head and pulled roughly. Malfoy made a startled sound and his eyes went wide as Harry forced the man's chin upwards and exposed his neck. Harry pressed his mouth against the chilled flesh there and ran his tongue over the pulse point. The skin tasted sweet and clean, either from the rain or the soap Malfoy had used before going out for the evening.
Malfoy shoved at Harry, squirming desperately beneath him, but Harry wasn't done. The prat wanted shocking? He was going to get shocking. Harry pressed himself against Malfoy, pinning him to the brick as he bit at the hollow of the man's throat, licking, sucking, nipping. Malfoy's resistance increased for a brief moment, and then his movement took on a completely different feel. Fists twisted themselves in Harry's heavy, wet robes as Malfoy panted in his ear. A low moan escaped Malfoy. Harry felt the hot breath on his ear, heard the sound that seemed to tug at something deep within his belly, and felt the vibration of Malfoy's throat as he licked the spot just above Malfoy's collarbone. Harry shuddered.
Pulling back, Harry smirked. "Shocking eno-"
His taunt was cut off when Malfoy lunged at him, smashing his lips against Harry's and plunging his tongue into Harry's mouth. This time it was Harry who was startled. He made a move to disentangle himself, but Malfoy had a solid grip on Harry's robes, and there was no going anywhere. Malfoy spread his legs apart and Harry fell even further against him, pressed together hips to chest.
Anything resembling rational thought ceased. All Harry was aware of was the scent of Malfoy, the feel, the taste of him. He ground his hips into Malfoy's, and when he plunged a hand into the depths of Malfoy's robes and finally found contact with cold, clammy skin, Malfoy moaned into his mouth. Harry tugged at the drenched material, not caring about whether or not he ripped it. Malfoy could always buy new robes.
He did not have any idea what Malfoy might be thinking or feeling, but for Harry, this was a much-needed release. He had known he was lonely, was aware it had been a while since he had been with anyone intimately, but he had not known how desperately he had needed this. For many people, tonight was about romance, about soppy sentiments and roses and chocolates and expensive dinners. Harry had none of that, and he no longer wanted it. He wanted passion, eagerness, force. He wanted to strip Malfoy down and see what he could get away with.
Slowly, Harry worked his hand down Malfoy's torso until his fingertips were resting on the waistband of Malfoy's trousers. He pressed his palm lightly into the bulge just below the band and Malfoy bucked his hips. Harry shuddered. He wanted the man trapped between him and the brick wall. Merlin help him, he wanted him badly. There was no good reason in the world he should, but that did not change a thing. And when Malfoy untangled his hand from Harry's robes, deftly undid the zip on Harry's jeans, and slipped his long fingers inside Harry's boxer briefs, Harry got the vague impression the feeling was mutual.
"Fuck public intoxication," Malfoy whispered into his ear a moment later. "We're going to be arrested for lewd behaviour."
Harry shook his head and found his voice, which felt rough. "No one else is stupid enough to be out in this rain. We could do this all evening and not get caught."
Malfoy's eyes glazed over. "All evening?"
With a smile, Harry nodded. "Yeah. All night."
"You really plan to go that long?" Malfoy asked, sliding his thumb up Harry's shaft, apparently looking for a reaction.
Harry gritted his teeth. "Malfoy, I plan to go as long as you can handle."
"Promises, promises," Malfoy muttered, face flushed and hair a mess. The sight made Harry's knees feel weak, but it strengthened his desire, his resolve, and his nerve.
"You want a promise?" Harry asked, voice dark. He let go of any inhibitions that lingered. There weren't many left, and he had a feeling it had little to do with the alcohol still in his system. "I promise you you'll never forget tonight. I promise that by the end, you'll be begging for what you want, and I promise I'll deliver. And I promise that by the time we're done, you will never think of me as 'restrained' again."
As Malfoy shuddered beneath him and kissed Harry again deeply, Harry Apparated them both away.
He always kept his promises.
Author: khasael
Beta: groolover
Rating: R that wants to drift to NC-17
Word Count: ~1650
Disclaimer:All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Harry's always hated Valentine's Day. But perhaps things are looking up.
Author's/Artist's Note: Written for the Lip-Locked Valentine's exchange at hd_seasons.
It was pouring rain, and the weather did nothing for Harry's mood.
Also not helping was the fact that his buzz was losing some of its lustre. Whereas an hour ago he had felt like he was floating pleasantly along, now he just felt off-kilter. And everyone else he knew seemed to have someone to go home with tonight. The longer he stayed at the pub, the more he began to realise how wretchedly lonely he was. Virtually everyone else was either flirting like mad or had progressed to drunkenly trying to devour their partner for the evening. He had no one. No comfortable relationship to go home to, no new acquaintance to spend the evening with, no prospect of going home with anyone.
He hated Valentine's Day.
Well, he had thought to himself as he paid his tab, at least it's better than that date at Madam Puddifoot's with Cho.
He was slogging his way down the street in the rain, cursing himself for being too damned drunk to Apparate home, when he spotted something that caught his eye. The something was actually a someone, and as Harry watched the figure stumble out the door of a nearby club, he raised his eyebrows.
"What're you staring at?" the figure called out.
Harry started. Even drunk, and even though the other person's words were slightly slurred, he knew that voice. He heard it quite often at the Ministry. Usually, it was pompous and rude. "Malfoy?"
The figure, who, yes, was blond, though his hair was darkening as the rain soaked it, stood up a little straighter. "Potter? What are you doing here? Going to arrest me for public intoxication?" He approached, still seemingly sure on his feet, though the slightly unfocussed gaze and slurred speech said he was already three sheets to the wind.
He came right up to Harry and poked him in the chest. Hard. "Just go ahead and try it. Splash my name all over the papers again. At least people know I'm interesting."
Malfoy's breath smelt of scotch. Harry thought he might be less drunk than he appeared, but he wasn't willing to bet money on that. "Can hardly arrest you for the offence when I'm just as guilty as you are," he said with a roll of the eyes.
Smirking, Malfoy let out a little laugh. "You, drunk? I suppose you're not quite as boring as I thought, then. I had you pegged for the very epitome of restrained and lawful."
Harry snorted. "Then you really are a clueless git. I don't know who you've been talking to, but no one would ever call me 'restrained'." He had the reprimands to prove it.
"Oh, is that so? Passionate, forceful, and wild, are you?" Malfoy pressed closer, and Harry wondered briefly exactly how they had got so close and why he had not shoved the other man away. He no longer hated the very sight of him, as the war and its aftermath had altered his perspective on a lot of things. But the little contact they had at the Ministry hadn't exactly made Harry want to go and seek out the other man for company, either. Malfoy may not be evil the way Harry had once thought, but he wasn't sunshine and bunny rabbits, either.
"I might be," he said, the words coming out in a surprisingly sure tone, cocky in a way that rivalled most of Malfoy's own casually sarcastic comments. Malfoy still had his fingertips pressed into Harry's sternum. Their faces were only centimetres apart. And why hadn't either of them pulled away yet? Harry could feel tension-Merlin help him if it was something else-between them, nearly palpable. It seemed to call to him, asking him to come closer, promising not to bite (at least, not any harder than he wanted).
"Yeah?" Malfoy said, cocking his head slightly to the side. "Prove it, Potter. Do something interesting. Shock me." He shook his head and muttered to himself. "As if you could."
Resisting challenges had never been Harry's strength. He did the most shocking thing he could think of: he grabbed Malfoy by the biceps, swung them both around so Malfoy was the one pressed up against the brick wall, and leaned his face in close. If one of them so much as twitched, their noses would touch. "There. That shocking enough for you?"
Malfoy looked at him wide-eyed for a split second before his eyes narrowed. "It's a start, I suppose. I thought you might be onto something, but I was wrong. Disappointing showing, overall, Potter."
Harry felt irritation flood through him. "Disappointing? What did you have in mind?"
Malfoy shrugged as much as Harry's grip would allow him. "For a brief moment, I thought you might try to satisfy some sexual urge. Truth be told, Potter, I wasn't certain whether I'd let you get away with it."
Harry thought about the way Malfoy had put up no actual resistance to being grabbed, the way he had not fought back when pressed against the wall, and made up his mind. Between the blood surging through him and the alcohol clouding his thinking, action was the only thing he felt he could rely upon.
Reaching up, Harry slid his fingers through the wet hair at the back of Malfoy's head and pulled roughly. Malfoy made a startled sound and his eyes went wide as Harry forced the man's chin upwards and exposed his neck. Harry pressed his mouth against the chilled flesh there and ran his tongue over the pulse point. The skin tasted sweet and clean, either from the rain or the soap Malfoy had used before going out for the evening.
Malfoy shoved at Harry, squirming desperately beneath him, but Harry wasn't done. The prat wanted shocking? He was going to get shocking. Harry pressed himself against Malfoy, pinning him to the brick as he bit at the hollow of the man's throat, licking, sucking, nipping. Malfoy's resistance increased for a brief moment, and then his movement took on a completely different feel. Fists twisted themselves in Harry's heavy, wet robes as Malfoy panted in his ear. A low moan escaped Malfoy. Harry felt the hot breath on his ear, heard the sound that seemed to tug at something deep within his belly, and felt the vibration of Malfoy's throat as he licked the spot just above Malfoy's collarbone. Harry shuddered.
Pulling back, Harry smirked. "Shocking eno-"
His taunt was cut off when Malfoy lunged at him, smashing his lips against Harry's and plunging his tongue into Harry's mouth. This time it was Harry who was startled. He made a move to disentangle himself, but Malfoy had a solid grip on Harry's robes, and there was no going anywhere. Malfoy spread his legs apart and Harry fell even further against him, pressed together hips to chest.
Anything resembling rational thought ceased. All Harry was aware of was the scent of Malfoy, the feel, the taste of him. He ground his hips into Malfoy's, and when he plunged a hand into the depths of Malfoy's robes and finally found contact with cold, clammy skin, Malfoy moaned into his mouth. Harry tugged at the drenched material, not caring about whether or not he ripped it. Malfoy could always buy new robes.
He did not have any idea what Malfoy might be thinking or feeling, but for Harry, this was a much-needed release. He had known he was lonely, was aware it had been a while since he had been with anyone intimately, but he had not known how desperately he had needed this. For many people, tonight was about romance, about soppy sentiments and roses and chocolates and expensive dinners. Harry had none of that, and he no longer wanted it. He wanted passion, eagerness, force. He wanted to strip Malfoy down and see what he could get away with.
Slowly, Harry worked his hand down Malfoy's torso until his fingertips were resting on the waistband of Malfoy's trousers. He pressed his palm lightly into the bulge just below the band and Malfoy bucked his hips. Harry shuddered. He wanted the man trapped between him and the brick wall. Merlin help him, he wanted him badly. There was no good reason in the world he should, but that did not change a thing. And when Malfoy untangled his hand from Harry's robes, deftly undid the zip on Harry's jeans, and slipped his long fingers inside Harry's boxer briefs, Harry got the vague impression the feeling was mutual.
"Fuck public intoxication," Malfoy whispered into his ear a moment later. "We're going to be arrested for lewd behaviour."
Harry shook his head and found his voice, which felt rough. "No one else is stupid enough to be out in this rain. We could do this all evening and not get caught."
Malfoy's eyes glazed over. "All evening?"
With a smile, Harry nodded. "Yeah. All night."
"You really plan to go that long?" Malfoy asked, sliding his thumb up Harry's shaft, apparently looking for a reaction.
Harry gritted his teeth. "Malfoy, I plan to go as long as you can handle."
"Promises, promises," Malfoy muttered, face flushed and hair a mess. The sight made Harry's knees feel weak, but it strengthened his desire, his resolve, and his nerve.
"You want a promise?" Harry asked, voice dark. He let go of any inhibitions that lingered. There weren't many left, and he had a feeling it had little to do with the alcohol still in his system. "I promise you you'll never forget tonight. I promise that by the end, you'll be begging for what you want, and I promise I'll deliver. And I promise that by the time we're done, you will never think of me as 'restrained' again."
As Malfoy shuddered beneath him and kissed Harry again deeply, Harry Apparated them both away.
He always kept his promises.