Finis est - Rentboy!Draco series
Title: No More Muffins
Rating: NC17
Beta(s): I use them both shamelessly!
mytailorisrich and
aurora_1301
Warnings: Don’t look at these, they ruin the plot! Character death, breathplay, bondage, mentions infantilism, unintentional necrophilia, Language, graphic sex, implied cross-dressing…I think that’s about it.
Disclaimer: one short series in the world of HP and I am already crazy, I certainly do not, and don’t want to own all 7 books. It’s all yours JK! TAKE IT!
Characters: Mind the cat, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Regular Joe, mention of Mildred, Marius, Harry Potter and Rentboy!Draco Malfoy
Summary: Harry and Draco enjoy domestic bliss together
**
The coffee table creaked loudly under his weight and his legs ached from the wide angle they were being spread at. Harry had his ankles grasped in either hand, holding him open and exposed as he pounded him with unforgivable force It wasn’t the vulnerable position that was making Draco slightly anxious, it was the way they were in full view of his neighbours if they so wished to peek across from their balcony into his French windows.
“Oh god…Draco…” Harry dug his nails in deeper into the bony ankles, knowing that they shared his kink for a little bit of violence in their sex. Draco looked like a fallen angel, the way his hair haloed around his head with static and how he seemed to float on the translucent glass table.
Harry peered down to watch the length of his cock slide in and out of Draco’s slick passage and the way his erection bobbed with the beat of his thrusts, a string of precum threatening to snap from where it was joined at the angry crimson head and the pale hair’s coming down from Draco’s bellybutton. Feeling the pressure building up in his abdomen, Harry retracted his nails and encouraged Draco to hook his legs around his hips. The grip around his cock tightened at the shift of position and Harry wiggled his hands between their limbs to pull open the pale buttocks, allowing himself better access.
Draco’s hips sockets were protesting loudly but he focused on clenching his muscles at the same time Potter dragged his dick out of his arse, clenching to create a nice tight sensation that had him moaning like a wounded hippogriff.
“So close…” sighed Harry, leaning down a bit to bring their faces closer together.
Draco, daring devil that he was, unfurled his hands from the edge of the table and brought them up around Harry’s torso, attempting to leave scored nail-trails for days. Harry movements suddenly became frantic and Draco dug his nails in even deeper if only to keep from sliding off the glass. Staring determinedly into Draco’s eyes, Harry’s whole body shuddered as he gave those last few thrusts to completion, yelling out what numbly equated to Draco’s name, then collapsed.
Draco was sure the table would break with both their weight and he hated to imagine what his bum looked like squashed from the other side of the glass top. Harry shifted on top of him and said sensuously into his ear, “I love you.”
Draco tensed a little, such words sent him into a hot dazed feeling, but he managed to murmur out his own devotions. “I love you too, Harry.” Draco could feel the smile against his neck and chose to remain silent for the rest of that day.
**
“Harry!” whined Draco, kicking Harry’s outstretched foot. “HARRY...Haaaaaarrreee!!”
Harry put his book down in his lap and looked at Draco for the first time in half an hour. He was standing there naked. “What is it?”
“I’m bored,” pouted Draco, moving to Harry with a predatory smirk on his face.
“Well what do you do when you’re normally bored?”
“I fuck.”
“You nymphomaniac! We’ve only just done it!” said Harry, quickly standing up and trying to get out of Draco’s pouncing range. Draco just kept stepping forward with a mad gleam in his eyes.
“I am -erm, was a rentboy! I was having sex every day all day - need sex. So stop inching away and take it like a man!” Draco jumped and Harry screamed like a girl, running to the other side of the living room.
“Away you frisky fiend!” yelled Harry, picking up the nearest thing to be used as a weapon. Mind didn’t look happy being used as a tool of defence and decided to claw Harry instead of his advancing master. Dropping the cat in pain and watching it flee; Harry looked back up into grey eyes a couple of centimeters away.
“Do you like silk Harry?” grinned Draco, waggling his eyebrows and presenting a black silk sash from goodness knows where.
“I am sure I could…but in a little while? I don’t think I can get it up right now, you exhausted me.”
“Oh don’t worry,” smiled Draco, already captured Harry’s wrists and winding the soft ties around them, “I am sure I can help you out there.”
**
By the amount of banging and thudding coming from the down the doorway, Harry could summarize from his position on the bed that Draco was in a bad mood. “Draco?” he called, lifting his head up from the pillow at an uncomfortable angle.
“Ah, right where I left you,” said Draco, storming into the room. He pointed accusingly at Harry’s spread-eagle body. “This is your fault! Your entire fault.”
“What is?”
“Mildred! She won’t serve me!” cried Draco, he held up the coffee and little bagged muffin in his other hand, waving them about, “I actually had to pay for this myself!”
“Why didn’t she serve you?” asked Harry.
“She had just got a big bonus, enough for a quick tongue session and she was upset when I told her I was retired. So now no coffee for me, and I blame you! Why can’t you share?! Then I would have coffee!”
“Draco, you're rich and that coffee costs four pounds, the muffin about two pounds. What’s the problem?”
Draco was either gasping because he was affronted or he couldn’t think of a reason, but finally he said “It doesn’t taste the same as free stuff! Dingbat.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’ve got your coffee, now do you mind untying me?”
Draco laughed. “Nope.” And with that he stood up and walked out of the bedroom, sipping his suddenly better-tasting coffee.
“Draco! Come back here! Untie me! Draco...please?”
**
Draco hated this day out of all the other days of the year. Valentines day. Pink hearts bred like bunnies and his clients always used to develop infantilism fetishes for the day, dressing him up in a fluffy nappy and wings.
Standing in Clintons now, looking for the perfect card to say ‘I don’t know why I love you because I think you are an annoying prat’, Draco’s only thought was at least shopping for cards didn’t give him a rash. After asking an assistant, he was forced to settle on something a little more traditional. Now all he had to do was buy a present. I’m in hell.
**
“I’ve never really celebrated a Valentines day before…” said Draco, letting Harry test his new unbreakable, magically enforced, gold plated handcuffs. They bit into his wrists a little, but he ignored it. “So…my other present…is that I am going to throw away my diary.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open and his eyes flickered to the little black book sitting on the nightstand. Draco had been very adamant that he would not get rid of his date-diary even after he swore off his other clients. To him that little black book belonged there between the lamp and clutter of crap, and what would sit there if not that? It was like a comfort blanket that was there to contrast brightly against his new life with Harry.
“Are you sure?” asked Harry, hiding his glee badly. Draco nodded.
“Yes. I’m shite at present shopping and I know handcuffs don’t scream romantic…but…I know how you feel about the diary…so…throw it away. Now, while I can’t stop you,” said Draco, clinking an imprisoned wrist against the barred headboard. Harry gave him the widest smile every, leaping off the bed and snatching the diary up.
Draco watched him disappear from the room, already regretting this decision. A loud clunk signalled the book’s demise at the hands of Harry, another small thud as the lid of the bin closed and Harry came trundling back in.
He climbed on the bed, straddling Draco and kissed him soundly. Kissing was almost as unnatural as the empty spot on the nightstand. Draco hadn’t kissed anyone on the mouth properly for a good four or five years, and the way Harry’s tongue invaded his mouth felt like violation. Harry liked kissing though and the name of the game is to please the cl - boyfriend.
“Enough with all this mushiness, it’s time Potter! I’ve let you tie me up, now it’s your turn to keep your end of the bargain. The skirt is in the bottom drawer.”
Harry groaned and looked to the chest of drawers behind the door, the bottom drawer threatening him with its abundance of toys, costumes and outfits.
**
“Nice legs.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Must say, my tie looks good on you too.”
“Draco, what did I say?! Shut. Up.”
**
Draco was rudely woken the next morning by Harry kissing him slowly. “Hmm…what time is it?”
“Little after eight. I have got to go to work. Hermione and Ron want us to go around for dinner next week, okay?”
“Yeah. Whatever,” shrugged Draco, snuggling against Harry’s shoulder and planning to go back to sleep. A few kisses where peppered on his face and then Harry was leaving for work.
“See you later, I’ll try to come home an hour earlier or something.”
“Hmm. ‘Kay. Have a nice day.”
“Love you.”
“Love you,” repeated Draco, clutching his pillow back over his head and plunging his world into darkness. The door to the apartment banged shut and Draco lay there, attempting to get back to sleep. It didn’t work, fucking Potter had woken him and there was no way he was going to be able to go back into slumber-land again.
Groggily getting up, and heading to the en suit, Draco wondered what it was that Harry actually did for a living. He decided the fact unimportant in comparison to his discovery that he had run out of his favourite vanilla body wash. Damn you, using my wash stuff. Might as take away my… Draco couldn’t think of something more heinous than using his expensive French body wash…he drew a blank, other than his date-diary, which was no more, there wasn’t much.
Wait. Draco dashed from the bathroom, leaving the shower running and went to the kitchen at full speed. Fucking luck! Thought Draco, glad Harry had left him to empty the bins today. He opened the lid and looked inside. Eww. Looking around, he spotted the washing up gloves in the sink. Perfect.
Draco often wondered why these gloves where always yellow, and now it made perfect sense. To match the tikka masala in the bin that he was rooting around it. After a couple of minutes of truly revolted digging, and Draco’s strengthened resolve to recycle more, he pulled out his beloved little black diary. He would have kissed the cover in to flex his dramatic appreciation, but the curry and questionable white powder on its leather was reframing him. Going back into the bedroom, he collected his wand and cast three cleansing charms, just in case.
The gloves, now being licked by Mind, were abandoned on the floor as Draco flipped through his diary. He hadn’t touched it since Harry moved in and to feel its pages again was better than an orgasm. The best thing about this diary was it was magical, so if he forgot to write in an appointment after arranging it, the lovely mind-reading diary would do it for him. Sometimes Draco had to admire how truly lazy he was.
Looking at the last time he had written in the book, he saw that his regular appointments stopped after a Thursday block with the word ‘dinner’ written underneath ‘Joe’. This must have been the day Harry and Draco admitted their love to one another…Draco must have gotten drunk that night because he never remembered the dinner or the declarations, but the way he had said ‘I love you’ the next morning was testament to their new relationship.
Still…the diary should have booked Harry in for every day of their relationship because it could not distinguish between clients and boyfriends. Draco frowned and flipped to the back of the book, curiously. The sound of water pounding against the porcelain floor of the shower came rushing back into his ears as he read the back page. Under the heading Blacklisted was a new name at the bottom.
Harry Potter. Draco blinked.
**
His first day in the advanced Obliviating program was as boring as he suspected it would be when he was told to bring writing equipment with him. Instead of writing notes on the theory of obliviation, he drew little cartoon dragons and DMs all over his parchment. Doodling was a much more preferable option that listening to things like ‘…is a barrier to the truth…’ that created a wave of uncomfortable guilt in his stomach.
“…barriers can be broken if something triggers. Triggering the memory may cause the same unresponsiveness that occurs when Obliviate is first cast. Can anyone tell me why? Mister Potter?”
Harry jerked his head up at his name and looking at the impatient lecturing Obliviator. “Erm…” When Harry couldn’t come up with an answer, the teacher just answered the question himself.
“When the memory is being recalled they go into a daydream like state…” You’re putting me into a ‘daydream like state’, you mouldy old sac, mused Harry, returning lovingly to his crude artwork.
**
“Hi Joe. I’m back in business, wondered if you still wanted that house-call?...when will Madge and the kiddies be gone?”
**
“Draco! Stop fussing with your hair I’m sure you look okay. Let’s go!” yelled Harry. He had been waiting by the front door.
“What do you mean ‘okay’?! I’ll have you know I look devastatingly handsome,” said Draco, coming down the hallway in his baggy flash-the-world-your-pubes jeans and a simple black shirt that brought out the contrast of his skin and hair.
“Can’t you put boxers on?” asked Harry.
“I could, but then I’d miss out on Weasley attempting to divert his eyes.” Laughed Draco, slinging one arm around Harry’s waist and pushing them out the door before Harry demanded him into the constriction of underwear.
Harry didn’t notice the way Draco was scrutinizing him on the doorstep as they waited for someone to let them in. In fact, he hadn’t noticed the odd, studious looks he was getting through most of the week, too caught up in the smiles and touches that were granted to him when he did look at Draco.
When the door opened, Draco plastered on a smile and looked up into the face of a taller, older Hermione Granger. She didn’t look particularly pleased to see he had managed to come as invited, she wore the same type of smile he was wearing. Fake.
“So glad you could make it. Come on in, Ron’s dishing up in the kitchen.” Hermione said lovingly to Harry, she then turned her eyes to Draco and run her eyes over him in disgust. When she noticed what his trousers did not cover, she blushed something terrible. Draco smirked.
They moved into the kitchen-cum-dining room and sat down at the table while Hermione went and fetched some wine for them. “This is nice,” sighed Harry, looking around the kitchen to see if it had changed in his short absence.
“So Harry, any interesting cases at work?” asked Hermione, coming back with a red store-bought wine and four glasses. As Harry went on to explain about a muggle and his frisky bed sheets, the only thing that Draco could think of was how boring this night was going to be.
**
“We’ve got an announcement,” announced Hermione to Harry. She clutched Ron’s hand tightly. “We’re getting married.”
Harry dropped his roll in his soup with surprise. “Really? Oh that’s fantastic! God, you took your time Ron! How did you propose?”
“Erm…I didn’t,” flushed Ron, turning red and sending a glare at Draco as if daring him to mock. Draco wasn’t interested however; he was still trying to pull out the little brown herbs out of his soup.
“I asked,” said Hermione, “It is a leap year and I was tired of waiting. I still made him get on one knee when I asked him. The man has to be the one on his knees.”
Here, here! Cried Draco into his soup. “She kicked my shin until I was on my knee. I’ve still got the bruise!” complained Ron.
“Aww, poor Ronniekins!” cooed Harry. The conversation of the wedding continued for a good twenty minutes until it took an unpleasant turn towards Draco and Harry’s relationship. The soup should have been cold by all rights but the heating charm kept the dubious concoction floating around in Draco’s bowl.
“So how are you two?” asked Hermione politely, Draco doubted Harry could hear the bitterness.
“Fantastic,” responded Harry immediately, “Never been happier, have we?”
“Hmm. No, never happier,” agreed Draco, nodding banefully at his soup.
“What made you decide to give up whoring?” asked Hermione.
“Hermione!” cried Harry, horrified at her callousness.
“No Harry, it’s a decent question,” said Ron, sneering at Draco. Finally looking up from his bowl, Draco just glared at the couple.
“I don’t think it is any of your business frankly,” said Draco coolly, his fingers itching for his wand.
“Oh but I wanted to know why you suddenly decided to finally go out with Harry like a normal, decent person,” said Hermione.
Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off…
“What did you just say?” asked Draco hollowly. Hermione repeated herself and then started arguing with Harry who had jumped to his defence when Draco’s whole face went pale.
Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off…
The three friends where arguing loudly at each other while Draco just sat there, eyes out of focus and dreadfully dizzy for a couple of minutes.
Either go out with him like a normal, decent person would, or fuck off…
I love you…
He’s obsessed with you. Addicted…
You don’t want a rentboy, or to bend a Malfoy. You want me…
You can’t fuck me anymore, its rape…
Obliviate! Obliviate! OBLIVIATE!
“Just because that’s how he started out, it doesn’t mean he’s a bad person -”
“It’s not like he needs the money Harry! He’s not a victim of unfortunate circumstances or whatever romantic crap you’ve brained up!” snapped Hermione. None of them noticed Draco’s sharpened glare and the way he was practically vibrating in his seat.
“He’s only with you for your money Harry, and he’s already got most of it!” said Ron, shaking his head and muttering something like ‘four years’ under his breath.
“Look!” snapped Harry, throwing down his napkin out of his lap, “I love Draco. Isn’t that enough? And he loves me so why don’t you just -”
And he loves me…
Say it. Say ‘I love you’…
“I love you…” echoed Draco, dully to his memory. Harry turned and smiled serenely at him then turned back to his friends.
“See, he loves me. He said it.”
Draco had had enough. Standing up sharply, he grabbed his soup and upended it straight into Harry’s lap who screamed in agony, wafting his hands uselessly to move the steam. Draco glanced at Weasley and Granger, both of them staring in shock. Picking up his glass of wine, he poured that onto a yelping Harry too.
“There, hope it helps!” And with that, Draco Apparated home.
**
Ring. Ring. Ring - “Hello? Oh, yes, come round at about twelve. Okay…okay bye.”
**
Draco had a plan. An evil plan and if he was a book character, he would have given that stereotypical evil laugh that all the masterminds did. Mhaw ha ha...hmm, maybe not, I sound psychotic.
When Harry arrived at the apartment forty minutes, a large stain on his shirt and beige trousers, he found Draco waiting for him wearing nothing but his Slytherin tie. Walking slowly over to his boyfriend and stopping very close so their skin almost touched, he looked up into Harry’s stony face.
“I’m really sorry about that, I just went crazy with all the arguing. I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Draco bit his lip and looked up through his lashes at Harry’s softening face. “Let me make it up to you, please.”
“O-okay.”
Draco guided Harry to the bedroom were candles floating near the ceiling, letting off a flickered glow and the bed sheets appeared extra comfortable somehow and Harry was looking around in wonder. “I should let you apologize more often,” said Harry in awe.
Draco grinned impishly and slowly began to strip him, taking off the soup-stained clothes off and flinging them away while he trailed hot kisses along Harry’s collar bone and chest. Harry ran his hands through what he considered to be the prettiest hair ever and wallowed in the feeling of those agile fingers feeling the contours of his spine while his bellybutton got a tonguing of its life.
“Suck -” began Harry.
“No,” said Draco, standing up straight again and coercing Harry to the bed, “Lie down. Please.” Harry gave into the desperate expression on his boyfriend’s face and laid down.
“Like this?” Draco climbed onto the mattress with him and nudged his arms up over his head, and before Harry knew what was happening, a loud click echoed through their bedroom and his wrist felt a cold pressure. Looking up at one wrist in shock, he turned back to Draco. “What are you doing?”
“Wouldn’t want you wriggling - I have plans for you, love.” Draco roped the handcuff around two bars of the headboard and then clicked Harry other hand into the cuff. He leaned down and placed a brief kiss at the edge of Harry’s lips, whispering, “Don’t worry. This is all for you tonight.”
Harry relaxed back into the mattress and watched Draco with keen eye. Draco moved back to frenching Harry’s bellybutton, his hands going over his own body, preparing himself. He didn’t want to draw the wait out because even though it would be fun to tease, he was extremely impatient.
“I’m sorry about Ron and Hermione,” said Harry softly. Draco bit and sucked hard, leaving a red ring around the depression in Harry’s stomach.
“It's okay, I don’t like them and they don’t have to like me.” Draco was up to two fingers now, scissoring them quickly inside himself while he slid himself carefully down Harry’s body until his head rested on one of his thighs.
“You do know I love you, right?” asked Harry, wishing to touch Draco’s face in reassurance.
“Of course I know,” nodded Draco, licked Harry’s inner thigh. “And I you.”
Draco rolled the flesh between his blunt teeth, sucking and clenching his jaw to hear the pain filled gasps and groans as Harry squirmed about in his restraints. Adding a third finger, finding the stretch a little uncomfortable, Draco kept his concentration on Harry’s cock. It had been half erect but now was filling with blood until it was thick and heavy. Once Draco deemed that Harry was in working order, he pulled his fingers from himself and hoisted himself to kneeling over the prone figure.
Fumbling with his wand and a quick incantation left Harry’s penis shiny and slick with lubrication. Draco reached for it and levered himself above it before sending a wink to Harry, then sitting down into the cradle of Harry’s hips.
Harry moaned his name loudly as the tight, hot grip clenched at his cock, and he bucked his hips up urgently, trying to get Draco to move in time with him.
Draco splayed his hands on Harry’s chest to give himself balance and began to raise up and down, Harry’s cock slipping out until only the head was breaching him, then sitting back down heavily till he felt Harry’s balls under his buttocks.
Balls-deep in the tight arse, Harry could already feel himself building up to an orgasm, and in the recess of his mind that wasn’t screaming ‘oh yes!’, he hoped Draco would forgive him for coming in such a short time.
Watching Harry’s erratic breathing and feeling the way he fruitlessly tried to take control of the rhythm of their fucking, Draco decided it was time.
“Harry? Can I try something?” asked Draco, slowing down his pace. Harry groaned.
“Try w-what?” Anything, just keep moving!
“Something someone else once did this to me - its wonderful Harry, makes orgasms like…a hundred times more intense! Please. Trust me, it’s good.”
“Okay.” Just fucking MOVE! Goddamnit!
“Say you trust me, that you love me,” pleaded Draco as he pulled his tie over his head.
“I trust you…love you. Loved you forever. I love you.” Panted Harry, trying with mad desperation to get Draco to pick up the pace. And suddenly he was.
Draco began riding Harry again with sweet efficiency, getting Harry writhing in his chains, hoping that it would provide enough distraction as he undid his tie and circled it lovingly around Harry’s neck. “There. A proper Slytherin,” admired Draco, tilting his head and looking at the green and silver stripes against tanned skin.
Crossing the tapered ends around Harry’s throat, Draco rode the cock inside him more feverishly and then began to pull at the material in his clutches, using them for leverage as well.
Harry’s eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open with surprise, and pain. “D-d-“
“Blacklisted Potter. This is what you get,” said Draco sweetly, yanking the tie-ends again, “when you try to fuck me over.” Yank. Tug, gag. Gasp. The handcuffs were clinking loudly as Harry tried to reach for his own neck.
As his lips were started to turn blue, Draco was feeling a malicious sort of glee. “It's considered the ultimate invasion when you Obliviate someone. Tisk, tisk Harry, taking my memories away all because you were feeling selfish.”
Harry’s heels kicked at the mattress and his breathing became labored and rattled around in his chest. His eyelids began to droop and Draco lent down, licking the side of his face to grab him back from unconsciousness. Don’t pass out on me.
Harry eyes rolled around and then slid into focus, pain evident in his face as he looked at Draco.
“Love me now?” hissed Draco, pulling the ends of the tie even tighter. Harry mouthed something and Draco leaned closer, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s.
“What did you say?”
“L-lo-Love y-y-“ A last puff of air blew into Draco’s ear as he felt the body underneath his convulse and finally still.
Draco sat up and studied Harry’s body, then scrambled out of his lap quickly before he got infected or something! Stepping away from the bed, Draco observed the macabre scene with a sense of awe. It was horrible.
The doorbell rang and Draco’s eyes darted to the digital clock that sat in prized place of his date-diary. 12:04.
**
Draco answered the door, leaning against the threshold with a smile, “Hi Marius. Let me just go get my skirt and tie. Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Fin
**
AUTHOR NOTE: So now that you all hate me…hope you enjoyed the series!
Alternative titles for this part of the series suggested by my betas:
- Harry is transfigured into a table lamp to hide the evidence that he was killed by Draco under the pretence of auto-erotic asphyxiation
- I’ll wash my bloody hands and we'll have a new life
- If only Harry had burnt the book
Other parts of series:
Part one: Tatty Ties and Frenching Thighs
Part Two: Mastercard
Part Three: Addicted
**