Just Another Recollection, part three
Title: Just Another Recollection (part 3)
Author: Nepenthe (si_ta)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Genre: Drama (little bit of everything)
Format: WIP?
Rating: NC-17 Sex be here
Warnings: Some swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't even own the idea to this one. XD
Summary: Based on 50 First Dates and insane conversations with freaky_zero on MSN. Draco’s long-term memory is destroyed from Harry’s dueling spell, causing him to wake up every morning like it’s just the next day. When, in fact, it has been three years. We come in on the morning that Draco wakes up early and finds a Mister Harry Potter in his bed...
Please Read This: Special thanks to rurounihime for beta’ing. I’m debating about one more chapter, the next morning. Your feedback on the issue will be appreciated. Second, there is sex in this chapter, so you’ve been warned. Have fun and thank you for reading!
[Part One] | [Part Two]
It was a couple hours later when someone finally dared to tread back into...Harry and Draco's bedroom. Draco didn't bother to roll over to see who it was; he was too comfortable to move. There was the tinkle of glass smacking each other and the smell of warm food gently wafted over to him, causing his empty stomach to growl. Draco realized he hadn't eaten all day. Sighing into his pillow, the blonde man stretched and rolled over, mouth open to greet the unknown presence. Instead, air came out and he snapped his jaw shut.
Harry slowly unfolded a napkin, eyes downcast at first, before lifting them as he handed the white cloth to him. Draco took it mutely, sitting up to allow Harry to put the tray of food over his lap. Harry's nervous hands fluttered over the utensils, straightening them, before they gave in and sank into his own black hair, raking it back.
"Um, dinner," he said lamely, trying to break the silence.
"Very perspective of you, Potter," Draco drawled, staring down at the steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. After his stomach growled again, Draco picked up his fork and knife uncomfortably and began slicing into the tender meat.
"Mind if I sit down?" Harry asked, hovering over the bed.
"It's your room too," Draco pointed out haughtily, stabbing a piece of meat furiously and popping it in his mouth. He moved his stretched out legs, however, and Harry immediately sat down where they had been. He was staring at him, causing Draco to shift uncomfortably. When the gaze started to get a little too intimate for his tastes, Draco dropped the utensils down loudly and jerked his eyes up to stare back at Potter. He half expected Potter to look away, but when he didn't after a couple of seconds, Draco's tense hands slowly relaxed.
"Something I can help you with, Potter?" Draco asked. He felt strangely unemotional, considering he should be flaming pissed with the man in front of him. But he was not; just bitter acceptance washed over him and he thought crying had a lot to do with a lot of this emptiness.
"I thought we could talk," requested Harry, folding his legs in and leaning his elbows on his knees.
"Hm," Draco replied, picking up the fork and knife again. "Why don't you talk and I listen. I'm rather too hungry to really discuss anything."
"Okay," Harry said, smiling a little. Draco refrained from twitching his lips upward, knowing he was completely hopeless like all the pictures showed. He put more food in his mouth quickly.
"The guys told me that you didn't look into the pensieves at all," Harry started slowly, cupping his chin in his folded hands. "That's how you usually start your day, by the way. I get up early, you wake up, and read a little note I leave you, and you go look into the pensieve I leave by your bed."
"Three years are a lot of memories to look through," Draco broke in, feeling discontent that Harry was telling him how he usually started his day, rather than knowing for himself. "What happens in ten years? Twenty? At that rate, by the time I know what I've done with my life, it will be time for me to go back to bed."
"We thought about that," Harry said, nodding and pushing up his glasses. "Not every day is extraordinary...I mean, we have it at hand, but instead, Ron and I mix up the memories that help you the most into one pensieve for you to look at everyday. So, it's like watching a movie and we are slowly explaining what's...happened to you."
"What about the world?" Draco demanded suddenly, curious. "Is Voldemort dead?"
Harry nodded, his brow furrowed a bit and rubbed unconsciously at his scar. The word endearing bubbled up so suddenly in Draco's head that it made it nearly made him choke. He squashed it down frantically and filled his mouth with potatoes.
"Yes," Harry continued. "About two years ago. You helped, you know."
Draco raised an eyebrow and bit back a sarcastic, bitter remark. Harry smiled knowingly.
"Nothing like spying," Harry said. "We let you know what was happening and you helped, uh..."
"Doing what?" Draco asked, unable to contain himself. "Licking envelopes? Cooking for the brave warriors?"
Harry laughed.
"I did, didn't I?" Draco choked, shuddering, eyes wide. "I cooked?"
"You're rather good at it," Harry chuckled, his eyes sparking with mirth and...well, Draco didn't want to acknowledge that second emotion quite yet.
"So.." Draco said uncomfortably, chasing a pea into the steak sauce and watching it drown. "I cooked, you waved your mighty sword-er-wand, and people danced in the streets. That the gist of it, Potter?" The word 'Harry' nearly dribbled out of his mouth. He sucked it in almost too late. He was trying to make Harry angry, see if he still had the knack for it after three years. Of course, he completely failed. Harry did nothing but smile softly, his eyes a little distant in memory and sparked with something other than anger - fondness. Draco felt his insides twist. He didn't want to wonder why Harry did that to him; the reaction of it alone was enough to make Draco want to scream.
"They sang too," Harry added, his white teeth disappearing behind an even gentler smile.
"You suck, Potter," Draco said childishly, crossing his arms and licking away at his fork. He was not busying himself enough to ignore Harry's downward glance and the quirk of eyebrow and lip in a most innocent-but-definitely-not manner.
"Pervert."
"Yes," Harry said, rather huskily and failing to hide it. "Yes, I am."
"Away," Draco told him, waving the fork in the man's face.
Harry laughed, tilting his head back to avoid a swipe. "No."
"I want you to go away," Draco said, as if to clarify the situation. The look Harry was giving him and to certain parts of his person was making him very jittery.
"And I fail to comply," Harry replied, smirking. "So sorry."
"You'll regret it," Draco warned, his voice hardening a bit.
"Yes," Harry laughed. "I probably will."
Shoving the food away angrily, Draco got up and strode across the room. Harry's eyes were trained on him every step of the way, especially when he threw open the doors to a large chest. Draco found, instead of clothes, shelves were stacked inside the armoire, and each shelf held a large stone filled with quivering water. The pensieves. The things that held Draco's memories now, since his brain was incapable of storing them now. The things that were his life, his very existence; the only things that knew what he was doing, where he was staying, when it all happened, and who he was sleeping with. Who he was sleeping with! If it caused feelings like this, Draco did not want to know about it. Ever. He grabbed one of the pensieves angrily, jerking it off the shelf, and brought it up over his head. Harry was there in an instant, grabbing one of his wrists, the other clutching onto the cold rock.
"Draco, don't," Harry begged, shocking Draco into looking at him. "Please don't, don't do this."
Draco stopped struggling at the sound of Harry's voice, caked with emotion and crumbling at the edges. His face was open in a plea, desperation tearing up his eyes and panic crinkling his face. Draco's hold threatened to weaken, causing Harry to take most of the weight and help Draco hold it up over their heads.
"I don't want it," Draco whispered, letting himself feel broken and his voice leaked the truth.
"You don't want me," Harry whispered back, his face so, so close. "You just want yourself."
"I want me back," he choked out, closing his eyes to block out the green that was making his mind shatter.
"You can't," Harry said, his voice hard. "You can't ever have Draco if you destroy this."
Draco's fingers gave away and Harry immediately took hold of the pensieve, bringing it down and clutching it to his chest.
"You can't have him back," Harry spat, his voice harder than the rock Draco had just held. He opened his eyes slowly. "You can't have him back, Draco, because he's mine."
Draco's broken hands slowly curled into fists.
"He's in there, with me, Draco," Harry said, looking down at the swirling water before putting the pensieve away. "You can never have him - that piece of you - back, Draco."
The piece of me.
"Because you gave it to me. You can never get that back."
I gave it all away to him, Draco thought, his eyes stinging and his head thundering.
"Do you understand that, Draco? Do you understand that it belongs to me now?"
"Give it back to me," Draco ordered, first going for the doors. Harry easily slammed them shut and turned to confront him, guarding with a face that was hard in determination.
"No," Harry growled, causing Draco's anger to pitch and refocus on a new target.
"Give it back to me, Harry!" Draco shouted, coming at him with his fists raised.
"I can't!" Harry yelled back, his body bracing for the hit. "I can't stop you from loving me!"
They met hard, first in fists and angry chests. They growled heatedly at each other, sparing a few stinging words. Harry's hands were hard on Draco's body, squeezing skin when a punch made him stumble or grabbing hair when a hit hurt too much. But soon fists uncurled, flattening out onto bare skin and grasping onto similar but opposite hands. Angry chests only brushed now for quick takes of breath, pressing in a caress that was devoid of rage. Legs that once stretched in attack now tangled for a foothold. Draco opened his mouth wide for Harry's rough treatment, to allow the taller man to press closer and go in deeper. They froze for that moment, clinging onto each other, and allowing Draco to realize it was their first kiss...that he could remember. Then Harry suddenly burst into motion and Draco allowed himself to be washed over, pressing back. The bed was found in no time and he was shoved onto it with Harry's hot body, following and smothering him into the blanket confines. The kiss was heated, rough, and expertly given; Harry knew when to swipe, when to dig, and when to retreat leaving Draco inwardly screaming and outwardly hissing. Before he knew it, his jeans were at his knees and Harry's fingers underneath him, pressing into his entrance through his underwear. They didn't stop kissing; Draco thought that if they did, he might protest at the pace they were going. Instead, it only stopped when Harry ripped off his shirt, only to descend again before Draco could catch a proper breath. Both of their jeans gone, Harry was working on the underwear, and Draco found himself mewling helplessly. His shirt was riding up and he felt Harry's skin on him and shuddered.
"Harry-" fresh air, Harry's mouth was gone and instead he had shoved up his shirt properly, mouth working frantically on his nipple and - dear Merlin. Draco bucked and hissed underneath the older man.
"Shit, Harry, wa-" Harry's hand slapped over his lips, screwing his jaw shut, and Draco could only think smart boy. Harry's tongue was working lovingly on his stomach, sucking hard enough to leave bruises but never staying in one place too long. It was a weird sensation to Draco, not because it felt…good. But Harry knew exactly how hard to suck and where to do it. Meanwhile, Harry was busy tearing off Draco's underwear. He could only groan a protest, because - Merlin - weren’t they going too fast? But then the thought was gone, just like Harry’s hand, and he was back; kissing him wildly, kissing him hard, and making him ache so badly that he had no problem with Harry grabbing his ankles and spreading him wide.
"That's it," Harry hissed, his voice deeper in urgency and hunger. It was so powerful, a squeak nearly passed Draco's throat and made him tremble violently. He was going to be fucked, holy shit, how did that happen, going to be fucked INto the mattress and DEAR MERLIN.
Harry's fingers were in him, working hard and fast, causing Draco to buck in surprise. There was no pausing, no waiting with bated breath; it was just fast and immediate. Draco knew he should be fighting it; should be pleading Harry to slow down, to just wait a moment for him to catch up with him because he couldn’t, it was just washing over him and...
And that was when Draco had his thought; it bubbled up so suddenly and then stuck on ragged rocks, holding against the waves of emotion.
Harry was going fast...because he liked it this way.
"Do you like that, Draco?" Harry's voice growled beyond the haze in Draco's eyes. His fingers were thrusting into his body now, doing a very good imitation of what was bound to come, what Draco wanted to happen NOW, and it did little to scare him.
"Erm hm, that's nice," Draco hiccupped out, gasping, and finding himself raising his hips, begging for harder, pleading for faster.
"Just-like-this?" Harry punctuated with each inward thrust of his fingers, letting them spread on the last word. Draco felt his eyes roll backwards.
"Yes," he mewed - MEWED, dear Merlin, he wouldn't hear the end of that one. Particularly, he didn't care at the given moment.
"Fuck me, Harry. For fuck's sake, fuck me."
Fingers gone, something bigger along the way with just the small push of hips, and Draco cried out. Harry was hiking Draco's legs up, making him wrap them around his waist, which Draco could only acknowledge half-heartedly. Harry was half way inside of him and not moving.
"You all right-"
"Fuck me, Harry, damn mother fucker-" And Harry was in all the way, pushing hard to shut Draco up. Draco tilted his head back, groaning; Harry didn't wait for him to adjust. He started thrusting into him frantically, short, hard thrusts that broke Draco's moan into little hiccups of passion. Hard ones that made his hips sometimes leave the bed and make him open wide for Harry's cock to fill. It was the best feeling in the world.
"Yes, oh Merlin, yes - fuck me, Harry, fuck me, fuck me-" Draco gasped out, his head rocking on the sheets. Harry's forehead was resting on his cheekas he concentrated on his own pleasure and pivoting his hips into Draco in short, fast strokes. The bed was creaking underneath them in well use and sometimes Harry would lower his head to wipe the sweat building on his forehead on the crumpled shirt Draco was still wearing around his upper body. Draco didn't know what to do with his legs; one moment they were braced onto the mattress, heels digging in, and spreading. Sometimes, only one leg would find itself around Harry's waist and other times, both. Every position was wonderful, fast and hard, just like every event of this stupid day.
"Fuck me...Harry, fuck me..." It had just become a mantra now, a small plea for it not to stop between each small gasp. His hands was stroking and grabbing onto Harry's bare back, spreading the sweat that was building there and loving it; loving the wet feel, the way Harry felt inside of him, and the way that sometimes Harry would try to look at him but couldn't keep eye contact for long.
Draco groaned helplessly, grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and dragged his head up to crush their lips together. He felt his lover's arms tremble as they braced and pushed his bodyweight up a bit, eliciting a new position and - Draco hissed and stopped seeing all together.
"FUCK-" he barked out when he found, like it was some new thing, that he had a voice and could say the word. Harry's hips were still moving, one hand now gripping a hip to keep the new height and grunting as he forced himself hard into Draco with a tight expression on his face. Then he hit the spot again and Draco withered on the bed.
"-fuck, fuck, fuck-" Forget the 'me's. Forget Harry. Forget everything, Draco couldn't think anymore, he was gone, gone, gone, and FUCK, oh Merlin, oh fucking fuck, fuck, fuck -
He had to be coming now, because he was falling, his mind was out of the room and outside, far beyond the stars, and no longer in this dimension and it was so good, so good he didn't want to move, he couldn't if he wanted to, Harry, Harry, Harry, come to the stars with me.
Draco blacked out.
"Draco? Draco, baby, wake up," Harry's voice was calling, choking up on a laugh and Draco tiredly opened his eyes.
"What?"
"Don't go to sleep yet."
"But...I'm tired." Idiot.
"I know. Just...don't. I haven't gotten to see you today."
"You'll see me tomorrow."
"Yes, but not this 'you'."
Draco didn't want to know what the hell Harry was talking about. He wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes.
"Draco, please?"
"We'll talk in the morning, Harry."
"No, we won't."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't remember...remember?"
Draco opened his eyes, no longer tired, and stared at Harry.
"Hey...It's okay...Just...Just stay awake to put this in the pensieve, okay?"
"I don't want to sleep now."
"Um...You'll have to eventually, Draco."
"No. I won't sleep ever again."
"You've tried that already."
"I did?" Draco blinked. It was still weird to not being able to remember he should.
"Yes," Harry said seriously, shifting his naked, sweaty body against Draco's. "Nearly drove you insane until...erm, Pansy knocked you out."
"Pansy hit me?"
"Good right hook."
"Apparently."
Silence as they stared at each other and the knowledge of what they had just done sunk into Draco's system. Harry seemed to be searching his face, his eyes going back and forth in a wild motion.
"...You okay?"
"How did you do this to me?"
"Do what?"
Silence on Draco's end.
"Make you love me?" Harry asked with a cocky smile, causing Draco to smack his righteous ass. "Ow."
"Answer the question."
"You already wanted my body," Harry laughed.
"I did not!"
"Okay, maybe not," Harry chuckled then sighed, easily shifting moods. "I dunno, Draco. That's half the challenge. Making you fall in love with me everyday. Sometimes you make it easy, sometimes you fight me tooth and nail." A cheesy, lovesick smile graced Harry's features. "I like doing it. Making you fall for me everyday. It's worth it."
"Yes, I am a good lay," Draco said seriously, causing Harry to laugh, his forehead to falling and resting on his chest.
"No, you're more than that," Harry sighed, snuggling into the body beneath him quite contently. Draco felt the smile on Harry's lips as they rested there in silence. After awhile, Draco found himself playing with Harry's hair.
"Do you love me, Draco?"
"Apparently," Draco replied gruffly, his cheeks heating up.
"You know, I gave you something."
"When?"
"A long time ago."
"What is it? I don't think I remember it." Harry snorted with laughter and Draco managed a small smile.
"You don't need to remember it."
"What is it, Harry?"
A smile against his skin and then Harry was lifting his head, looking into his eyes. "A piece of me."
Silence. Draco was staring into Harry's eyes; he couldn’t see his own eyes, how soft they looked, or the fond touch that had leaked onto the grey layers. All he could see was how Harry's eyes looked...exactly like his.
"Come on," Harry smiled suddenly. "This is a memory for the pensieve that I won't mind replaying over and over again."
Draco thought about fighting. About asking what the point was. But at the silly look on Harry's face, he found himself relenting without word and allowed himself to be dragged up from their snuggled position.
"...Harry?"
"Hm?"
"You don't show our most...uh, intimate...moments to everybody else, do you?"
Harry just laughed.
TBC? Or Fin?
Author: Nepenthe (si_ta)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Genre: Drama (little bit of everything)
Format: WIP?
Rating: NC-17 Sex be here
Warnings: Some swearing.
Disclaimer: I don't even own the idea to this one. XD
Summary: Based on 50 First Dates and insane conversations with freaky_zero on MSN. Draco’s long-term memory is destroyed from Harry’s dueling spell, causing him to wake up every morning like it’s just the next day. When, in fact, it has been three years. We come in on the morning that Draco wakes up early and finds a Mister Harry Potter in his bed...
Please Read This: Special thanks to rurounihime for beta’ing. I’m debating about one more chapter, the next morning. Your feedback on the issue will be appreciated. Second, there is sex in this chapter, so you’ve been warned. Have fun and thank you for reading!
[Part One] | [Part Two]
It was a couple hours later when someone finally dared to tread back into...Harry and Draco's bedroom. Draco didn't bother to roll over to see who it was; he was too comfortable to move. There was the tinkle of glass smacking each other and the smell of warm food gently wafted over to him, causing his empty stomach to growl. Draco realized he hadn't eaten all day. Sighing into his pillow, the blonde man stretched and rolled over, mouth open to greet the unknown presence. Instead, air came out and he snapped his jaw shut.
Harry slowly unfolded a napkin, eyes downcast at first, before lifting them as he handed the white cloth to him. Draco took it mutely, sitting up to allow Harry to put the tray of food over his lap. Harry's nervous hands fluttered over the utensils, straightening them, before they gave in and sank into his own black hair, raking it back.
"Um, dinner," he said lamely, trying to break the silence.
"Very perspective of you, Potter," Draco drawled, staring down at the steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. After his stomach growled again, Draco picked up his fork and knife uncomfortably and began slicing into the tender meat.
"Mind if I sit down?" Harry asked, hovering over the bed.
"It's your room too," Draco pointed out haughtily, stabbing a piece of meat furiously and popping it in his mouth. He moved his stretched out legs, however, and Harry immediately sat down where they had been. He was staring at him, causing Draco to shift uncomfortably. When the gaze started to get a little too intimate for his tastes, Draco dropped the utensils down loudly and jerked his eyes up to stare back at Potter. He half expected Potter to look away, but when he didn't after a couple of seconds, Draco's tense hands slowly relaxed.
"Something I can help you with, Potter?" Draco asked. He felt strangely unemotional, considering he should be flaming pissed with the man in front of him. But he was not; just bitter acceptance washed over him and he thought crying had a lot to do with a lot of this emptiness.
"I thought we could talk," requested Harry, folding his legs in and leaning his elbows on his knees.
"Hm," Draco replied, picking up the fork and knife again. "Why don't you talk and I listen. I'm rather too hungry to really discuss anything."
"Okay," Harry said, smiling a little. Draco refrained from twitching his lips upward, knowing he was completely hopeless like all the pictures showed. He put more food in his mouth quickly.
"The guys told me that you didn't look into the pensieves at all," Harry started slowly, cupping his chin in his folded hands. "That's how you usually start your day, by the way. I get up early, you wake up, and read a little note I leave you, and you go look into the pensieve I leave by your bed."
"Three years are a lot of memories to look through," Draco broke in, feeling discontent that Harry was telling him how he usually started his day, rather than knowing for himself. "What happens in ten years? Twenty? At that rate, by the time I know what I've done with my life, it will be time for me to go back to bed."
"We thought about that," Harry said, nodding and pushing up his glasses. "Not every day is extraordinary...I mean, we have it at hand, but instead, Ron and I mix up the memories that help you the most into one pensieve for you to look at everyday. So, it's like watching a movie and we are slowly explaining what's...happened to you."
"What about the world?" Draco demanded suddenly, curious. "Is Voldemort dead?"
Harry nodded, his brow furrowed a bit and rubbed unconsciously at his scar. The word endearing bubbled up so suddenly in Draco's head that it made it nearly made him choke. He squashed it down frantically and filled his mouth with potatoes.
"Yes," Harry continued. "About two years ago. You helped, you know."
Draco raised an eyebrow and bit back a sarcastic, bitter remark. Harry smiled knowingly.
"Nothing like spying," Harry said. "We let you know what was happening and you helped, uh..."
"Doing what?" Draco asked, unable to contain himself. "Licking envelopes? Cooking for the brave warriors?"
Harry laughed.
"I did, didn't I?" Draco choked, shuddering, eyes wide. "I cooked?"
"You're rather good at it," Harry chuckled, his eyes sparking with mirth and...well, Draco didn't want to acknowledge that second emotion quite yet.
"So.." Draco said uncomfortably, chasing a pea into the steak sauce and watching it drown. "I cooked, you waved your mighty sword-er-wand, and people danced in the streets. That the gist of it, Potter?" The word 'Harry' nearly dribbled out of his mouth. He sucked it in almost too late. He was trying to make Harry angry, see if he still had the knack for it after three years. Of course, he completely failed. Harry did nothing but smile softly, his eyes a little distant in memory and sparked with something other than anger - fondness. Draco felt his insides twist. He didn't want to wonder why Harry did that to him; the reaction of it alone was enough to make Draco want to scream.
"They sang too," Harry added, his white teeth disappearing behind an even gentler smile.
"You suck, Potter," Draco said childishly, crossing his arms and licking away at his fork. He was not busying himself enough to ignore Harry's downward glance and the quirk of eyebrow and lip in a most innocent-but-definitely-not manner.
"Pervert."
"Yes," Harry said, rather huskily and failing to hide it. "Yes, I am."
"Away," Draco told him, waving the fork in the man's face.
Harry laughed, tilting his head back to avoid a swipe. "No."
"I want you to go away," Draco said, as if to clarify the situation. The look Harry was giving him and to certain parts of his person was making him very jittery.
"And I fail to comply," Harry replied, smirking. "So sorry."
"You'll regret it," Draco warned, his voice hardening a bit.
"Yes," Harry laughed. "I probably will."
Shoving the food away angrily, Draco got up and strode across the room. Harry's eyes were trained on him every step of the way, especially when he threw open the doors to a large chest. Draco found, instead of clothes, shelves were stacked inside the armoire, and each shelf held a large stone filled with quivering water. The pensieves. The things that held Draco's memories now, since his brain was incapable of storing them now. The things that were his life, his very existence; the only things that knew what he was doing, where he was staying, when it all happened, and who he was sleeping with. Who he was sleeping with! If it caused feelings like this, Draco did not want to know about it. Ever. He grabbed one of the pensieves angrily, jerking it off the shelf, and brought it up over his head. Harry was there in an instant, grabbing one of his wrists, the other clutching onto the cold rock.
"Draco, don't," Harry begged, shocking Draco into looking at him. "Please don't, don't do this."
Draco stopped struggling at the sound of Harry's voice, caked with emotion and crumbling at the edges. His face was open in a plea, desperation tearing up his eyes and panic crinkling his face. Draco's hold threatened to weaken, causing Harry to take most of the weight and help Draco hold it up over their heads.
"I don't want it," Draco whispered, letting himself feel broken and his voice leaked the truth.
"You don't want me," Harry whispered back, his face so, so close. "You just want yourself."
"I want me back," he choked out, closing his eyes to block out the green that was making his mind shatter.
"You can't," Harry said, his voice hard. "You can't ever have Draco if you destroy this."
Draco's fingers gave away and Harry immediately took hold of the pensieve, bringing it down and clutching it to his chest.
"You can't have him back," Harry spat, his voice harder than the rock Draco had just held. He opened his eyes slowly. "You can't have him back, Draco, because he's mine."
Draco's broken hands slowly curled into fists.
"He's in there, with me, Draco," Harry said, looking down at the swirling water before putting the pensieve away. "You can never have him - that piece of you - back, Draco."
The piece of me.
"Because you gave it to me. You can never get that back."
I gave it all away to him, Draco thought, his eyes stinging and his head thundering.
"Do you understand that, Draco? Do you understand that it belongs to me now?"
"Give it back to me," Draco ordered, first going for the doors. Harry easily slammed them shut and turned to confront him, guarding with a face that was hard in determination.
"No," Harry growled, causing Draco's anger to pitch and refocus on a new target.
"Give it back to me, Harry!" Draco shouted, coming at him with his fists raised.
"I can't!" Harry yelled back, his body bracing for the hit. "I can't stop you from loving me!"
They met hard, first in fists and angry chests. They growled heatedly at each other, sparing a few stinging words. Harry's hands were hard on Draco's body, squeezing skin when a punch made him stumble or grabbing hair when a hit hurt too much. But soon fists uncurled, flattening out onto bare skin and grasping onto similar but opposite hands. Angry chests only brushed now for quick takes of breath, pressing in a caress that was devoid of rage. Legs that once stretched in attack now tangled for a foothold. Draco opened his mouth wide for Harry's rough treatment, to allow the taller man to press closer and go in deeper. They froze for that moment, clinging onto each other, and allowing Draco to realize it was their first kiss...that he could remember. Then Harry suddenly burst into motion and Draco allowed himself to be washed over, pressing back. The bed was found in no time and he was shoved onto it with Harry's hot body, following and smothering him into the blanket confines. The kiss was heated, rough, and expertly given; Harry knew when to swipe, when to dig, and when to retreat leaving Draco inwardly screaming and outwardly hissing. Before he knew it, his jeans were at his knees and Harry's fingers underneath him, pressing into his entrance through his underwear. They didn't stop kissing; Draco thought that if they did, he might protest at the pace they were going. Instead, it only stopped when Harry ripped off his shirt, only to descend again before Draco could catch a proper breath. Both of their jeans gone, Harry was working on the underwear, and Draco found himself mewling helplessly. His shirt was riding up and he felt Harry's skin on him and shuddered.
"Harry-" fresh air, Harry's mouth was gone and instead he had shoved up his shirt properly, mouth working frantically on his nipple and - dear Merlin. Draco bucked and hissed underneath the older man.
"Shit, Harry, wa-" Harry's hand slapped over his lips, screwing his jaw shut, and Draco could only think smart boy. Harry's tongue was working lovingly on his stomach, sucking hard enough to leave bruises but never staying in one place too long. It was a weird sensation to Draco, not because it felt…good. But Harry knew exactly how hard to suck and where to do it. Meanwhile, Harry was busy tearing off Draco's underwear. He could only groan a protest, because - Merlin - weren’t they going too fast? But then the thought was gone, just like Harry’s hand, and he was back; kissing him wildly, kissing him hard, and making him ache so badly that he had no problem with Harry grabbing his ankles and spreading him wide.
"That's it," Harry hissed, his voice deeper in urgency and hunger. It was so powerful, a squeak nearly passed Draco's throat and made him tremble violently. He was going to be fucked, holy shit, how did that happen, going to be fucked INto the mattress and DEAR MERLIN.
Harry's fingers were in him, working hard and fast, causing Draco to buck in surprise. There was no pausing, no waiting with bated breath; it was just fast and immediate. Draco knew he should be fighting it; should be pleading Harry to slow down, to just wait a moment for him to catch up with him because he couldn’t, it was just washing over him and...
And that was when Draco had his thought; it bubbled up so suddenly and then stuck on ragged rocks, holding against the waves of emotion.
Harry was going fast...because he liked it this way.
"Do you like that, Draco?" Harry's voice growled beyond the haze in Draco's eyes. His fingers were thrusting into his body now, doing a very good imitation of what was bound to come, what Draco wanted to happen NOW, and it did little to scare him.
"Erm hm, that's nice," Draco hiccupped out, gasping, and finding himself raising his hips, begging for harder, pleading for faster.
"Just-like-this?" Harry punctuated with each inward thrust of his fingers, letting them spread on the last word. Draco felt his eyes roll backwards.
"Yes," he mewed - MEWED, dear Merlin, he wouldn't hear the end of that one. Particularly, he didn't care at the given moment.
"Fuck me, Harry. For fuck's sake, fuck me."
Fingers gone, something bigger along the way with just the small push of hips, and Draco cried out. Harry was hiking Draco's legs up, making him wrap them around his waist, which Draco could only acknowledge half-heartedly. Harry was half way inside of him and not moving.
"You all right-"
"Fuck me, Harry, damn mother fucker-" And Harry was in all the way, pushing hard to shut Draco up. Draco tilted his head back, groaning; Harry didn't wait for him to adjust. He started thrusting into him frantically, short, hard thrusts that broke Draco's moan into little hiccups of passion. Hard ones that made his hips sometimes leave the bed and make him open wide for Harry's cock to fill. It was the best feeling in the world.
"Yes, oh Merlin, yes - fuck me, Harry, fuck me, fuck me-" Draco gasped out, his head rocking on the sheets. Harry's forehead was resting on his cheekas he concentrated on his own pleasure and pivoting his hips into Draco in short, fast strokes. The bed was creaking underneath them in well use and sometimes Harry would lower his head to wipe the sweat building on his forehead on the crumpled shirt Draco was still wearing around his upper body. Draco didn't know what to do with his legs; one moment they were braced onto the mattress, heels digging in, and spreading. Sometimes, only one leg would find itself around Harry's waist and other times, both. Every position was wonderful, fast and hard, just like every event of this stupid day.
"Fuck me...Harry, fuck me..." It had just become a mantra now, a small plea for it not to stop between each small gasp. His hands was stroking and grabbing onto Harry's bare back, spreading the sweat that was building there and loving it; loving the wet feel, the way Harry felt inside of him, and the way that sometimes Harry would try to look at him but couldn't keep eye contact for long.
Draco groaned helplessly, grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and dragged his head up to crush their lips together. He felt his lover's arms tremble as they braced and pushed his bodyweight up a bit, eliciting a new position and - Draco hissed and stopped seeing all together.
"FUCK-" he barked out when he found, like it was some new thing, that he had a voice and could say the word. Harry's hips were still moving, one hand now gripping a hip to keep the new height and grunting as he forced himself hard into Draco with a tight expression on his face. Then he hit the spot again and Draco withered on the bed.
"-fuck, fuck, fuck-" Forget the 'me's. Forget Harry. Forget everything, Draco couldn't think anymore, he was gone, gone, gone, and FUCK, oh Merlin, oh fucking fuck, fuck, fuck -
He had to be coming now, because he was falling, his mind was out of the room and outside, far beyond the stars, and no longer in this dimension and it was so good, so good he didn't want to move, he couldn't if he wanted to, Harry, Harry, Harry, come to the stars with me.
Draco blacked out.
"Draco? Draco, baby, wake up," Harry's voice was calling, choking up on a laugh and Draco tiredly opened his eyes.
"What?"
"Don't go to sleep yet."
"But...I'm tired." Idiot.
"I know. Just...don't. I haven't gotten to see you today."
"You'll see me tomorrow."
"Yes, but not this 'you'."
Draco didn't want to know what the hell Harry was talking about. He wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes.
"Draco, please?"
"We'll talk in the morning, Harry."
"No, we won't."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't remember...remember?"
Draco opened his eyes, no longer tired, and stared at Harry.
"Hey...It's okay...Just...Just stay awake to put this in the pensieve, okay?"
"I don't want to sleep now."
"Um...You'll have to eventually, Draco."
"No. I won't sleep ever again."
"You've tried that already."
"I did?" Draco blinked. It was still weird to not being able to remember he should.
"Yes," Harry said seriously, shifting his naked, sweaty body against Draco's. "Nearly drove you insane until...erm, Pansy knocked you out."
"Pansy hit me?"
"Good right hook."
"Apparently."
Silence as they stared at each other and the knowledge of what they had just done sunk into Draco's system. Harry seemed to be searching his face, his eyes going back and forth in a wild motion.
"...You okay?"
"How did you do this to me?"
"Do what?"
Silence on Draco's end.
"Make you love me?" Harry asked with a cocky smile, causing Draco to smack his righteous ass. "Ow."
"Answer the question."
"You already wanted my body," Harry laughed.
"I did not!"
"Okay, maybe not," Harry chuckled then sighed, easily shifting moods. "I dunno, Draco. That's half the challenge. Making you fall in love with me everyday. Sometimes you make it easy, sometimes you fight me tooth and nail." A cheesy, lovesick smile graced Harry's features. "I like doing it. Making you fall for me everyday. It's worth it."
"Yes, I am a good lay," Draco said seriously, causing Harry to laugh, his forehead to falling and resting on his chest.
"No, you're more than that," Harry sighed, snuggling into the body beneath him quite contently. Draco felt the smile on Harry's lips as they rested there in silence. After awhile, Draco found himself playing with Harry's hair.
"Do you love me, Draco?"
"Apparently," Draco replied gruffly, his cheeks heating up.
"You know, I gave you something."
"When?"
"A long time ago."
"What is it? I don't think I remember it." Harry snorted with laughter and Draco managed a small smile.
"You don't need to remember it."
"What is it, Harry?"
A smile against his skin and then Harry was lifting his head, looking into his eyes. "A piece of me."
Silence. Draco was staring into Harry's eyes; he couldn’t see his own eyes, how soft they looked, or the fond touch that had leaked onto the grey layers. All he could see was how Harry's eyes looked...exactly like his.
"Come on," Harry smiled suddenly. "This is a memory for the pensieve that I won't mind replaying over and over again."
Draco thought about fighting. About asking what the point was. But at the silly look on Harry's face, he found himself relenting without word and allowed himself to be dragged up from their snuggled position.
"...Harry?"
"Hm?"
"You don't show our most...uh, intimate...moments to everybody else, do you?"
Harry just laughed.
TBC? Or Fin?