Implicit Acceptance (Harry Potter)
Title: Implicit Acceptance
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Disclaimer: Draco and Harry, and their world, are property of J.K. Rowling and all those folks she's contracted them out to, none of whom are me. I'm not making any money off of this.
Rating: FRAO for explicit sexual content
Length: 582 words
Summary: "Just this. Lean bodies twisting together, hoarse panting, mouths leaning in but not-quite-touching." Post-Hogwarts, Draco welcomes Harry home.
Category: Smut with a little bit of angst
Author's Note: Gracious thanks to rtuko and megmurry for providing feedback on pronouns.
Implicit Acceptance
Just this. Lean bodies twisting together, hoarse panting, mouths leaning in but not-quite-touching. Hot breath against his cheek, his chin, his very lips, and Draco turned his head to avoid the implicit rejection, letting Harry breathe into his ear. The Slytherin nipped instead of kissing, light tooth pressure against his former enemy's neck. Draco dug his fingers into Harry's hips, and Harry curled his legs tighter, pulling Draco closer.
They'd done this a few times before, drunk and angry, fighting leading ineroxably to the bedroom. The same fight, really: Harry didn't trust him, Draco didn't like him. Both had been rendered orphans by Voldemort's hand, but their uneasy alliance couldn't wipe out seven years of rivalry. Sex between them was mostly a different form of fighting.
"I have to go make dinner," Harry panted, trying to disconnect.
"What, you'll only do this when you're drunk?" he snarled. Draco himself had thought it was only drunken frustration, but it had shifted to something bordering obsession in Harry's absence.
"I don't want - I don't want to have sex right now."
But Draco hadn't been waiting days for him to come back, hours more for him to disentangle himself from his twittering friends, to let him go at just a little bump-and-grind. His hand brushed the robe aside, finding the bulge in Harry's pants and grabbing hold hard. "What's this then? Just happy to see me?"
He moaned and didn't protest as Draco unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock, wrapping his fingers the rest of the way around Harry's length. Nipping and biting, he slid down Harry's chest. "Tell me no, now, Potter," he murmured, and then pulled him into his mouth.
Quite a number of sounds were coming out of the Gryffindor's mouth, but 'no' didn't seem to be one of them, so he continued his ministrations. Harry's fingers worked into his stiff hair.
It didn't take long. Groaning, gasping, he spasmed and came into Draco's mouth. Draco shoved Harry's trousers the rest of the way off, unfastened his own, and slipped easily into him.
Harry looked startled. "Did you pre-lube yourself?"
Draco smirked. "I've been waiting."
"Good God, Draco," and his voice broke as Draco moved within him.
"Miss me?" He wouldn't admit to having missed Potter, and certainly not how badly.
The dark-haired boy's eyes half-closed, and he shifted his hips up to accommodate the other, wrapping his long legs around Draco's slim frame. "Missed this, maybe," Hary allowed. "Maybe you. A little."
They were still lying to each other, then. That was all right. Enmity would fade slowly, and Draco didn't really have a problem with that. Emotions were far too complicated to involve just yet; it was better for both of them if they left it at simple sex.
Not that it was. Not that this kind of sex was really all that simple. But Draco could lie to himself with as much ease as he lied to his father, his enemies, and his friends. Truth only forced itself into this: Harry was warm and welcoming in his own peculiar way, and felt damned good wrapped around him, and it was enough to bring Draco to an impossibly quick climax.
Harry collapsed beneath him, open-mouthed panting, faint sheen of sweat on his bare skin. Draco pulled out with a gasp of his own, straightened his clothing. A strand of his hair, worked loose by Harry, trailed across his cheek. "Welcome back," Draco said, and left the room.
- FIN -
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Disclaimer: Draco and Harry, and their world, are property of J.K. Rowling and all those folks she's contracted them out to, none of whom are me. I'm not making any money off of this.
Rating: FRAO for explicit sexual content
Length: 582 words
Summary: "Just this. Lean bodies twisting together, hoarse panting, mouths leaning in but not-quite-touching." Post-Hogwarts, Draco welcomes Harry home.
Category: Smut with a little bit of angst
Author's Note: Gracious thanks to rtuko and megmurry for providing feedback on pronouns.
Implicit Acceptance
Just this. Lean bodies twisting together, hoarse panting, mouths leaning in but not-quite-touching. Hot breath against his cheek, his chin, his very lips, and Draco turned his head to avoid the implicit rejection, letting Harry breathe into his ear. The Slytherin nipped instead of kissing, light tooth pressure against his former enemy's neck. Draco dug his fingers into Harry's hips, and Harry curled his legs tighter, pulling Draco closer.
They'd done this a few times before, drunk and angry, fighting leading ineroxably to the bedroom. The same fight, really: Harry didn't trust him, Draco didn't like him. Both had been rendered orphans by Voldemort's hand, but their uneasy alliance couldn't wipe out seven years of rivalry. Sex between them was mostly a different form of fighting.
"I have to go make dinner," Harry panted, trying to disconnect.
"What, you'll only do this when you're drunk?" he snarled. Draco himself had thought it was only drunken frustration, but it had shifted to something bordering obsession in Harry's absence.
"I don't want - I don't want to have sex right now."
But Draco hadn't been waiting days for him to come back, hours more for him to disentangle himself from his twittering friends, to let him go at just a little bump-and-grind. His hand brushed the robe aside, finding the bulge in Harry's pants and grabbing hold hard. "What's this then? Just happy to see me?"
He moaned and didn't protest as Draco unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock, wrapping his fingers the rest of the way around Harry's length. Nipping and biting, he slid down Harry's chest. "Tell me no, now, Potter," he murmured, and then pulled him into his mouth.
Quite a number of sounds were coming out of the Gryffindor's mouth, but 'no' didn't seem to be one of them, so he continued his ministrations. Harry's fingers worked into his stiff hair.
It didn't take long. Groaning, gasping, he spasmed and came into Draco's mouth. Draco shoved Harry's trousers the rest of the way off, unfastened his own, and slipped easily into him.
Harry looked startled. "Did you pre-lube yourself?"
Draco smirked. "I've been waiting."
"Good God, Draco," and his voice broke as Draco moved within him.
"Miss me?" He wouldn't admit to having missed Potter, and certainly not how badly.
The dark-haired boy's eyes half-closed, and he shifted his hips up to accommodate the other, wrapping his long legs around Draco's slim frame. "Missed this, maybe," Hary allowed. "Maybe you. A little."
They were still lying to each other, then. That was all right. Enmity would fade slowly, and Draco didn't really have a problem with that. Emotions were far too complicated to involve just yet; it was better for both of them if they left it at simple sex.
Not that it was. Not that this kind of sex was really all that simple. But Draco could lie to himself with as much ease as he lied to his father, his enemies, and his friends. Truth only forced itself into this: Harry was warm and welcoming in his own peculiar way, and felt damned good wrapped around him, and it was enough to bring Draco to an impossibly quick climax.
Harry collapsed beneath him, open-mouthed panting, faint sheen of sweat on his bare skin. Draco pulled out with a gasp of his own, straightened his clothing. A strand of his hair, worked loose by Harry, trailed across his cheek. "Welcome back," Draco said, and left the room.
- FIN -