Fic: Order
Title: Order
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,000
Warning(s): PWP
Summary: Draco loves it when Harry takes control.
Author's Note: LOL, it's porn. After a long hiatus of having not written anything at all, this is the filth that I come up with. Whoops...
“Put your hands on the wall. Now.”
Draco complies as Harry steps up behind him and reaches around his waist to unbuckle his belt and shove his trousers and pants down to the floor. They pool around his ankles and limit how far Draco can spread his legs, which means this is going to hurt. He can’t wait.
Harry moans and slips down to his knees where he begins to tongue fuck Draco’s arse as though it’s the last thing he intends to do on earth. The filthy slurping sounds he makes almost has Draco reaching for his own cock, but he knows Harry wouldn’t like that. He likes to finish Draco off himself, and if Draco touches himself, Harry will make him wait even longer to come. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead touching the wall.
Harry slaps his thigh but redoubles his efforts, making Draco’s breath come in short, airy pants as he struggles to stay standing. Harry groans into his arse and Draco’s fingers claw the wallpaper, desperate for Harry to touch him properly. There’s a long silence while Harry wipes off his chin, then stands, his calloused, rough hand running over Draco’s arse appreciatively.
Draco wishes he could see Harry at that moment. He’s still in his damn Auror uniform, for Christ’s sake. He can feel the brass buttons on the front brushing against his spine, and he shivers. “You filthy little slut,” Harry whispers in his ear. “You love this, standing in front of me with your pants around your ankles, moaning like a cheap whore.” Draco bites down on his bottom lip, because Harry’s rough voice alone is enough to send him over the edge. “Say it,” Harry insists, grinding his hips against Draco’s arse. Draco can feel how hard he is through his robes.
“I’m a whore,” Draco says obediently and Harry smiles against his shoulder.
“That’s right. And whose whore are you?”
Draco doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.” Harry seems pleased by his fast response, because Draco can hear his robes being shoved aside so he can run his cock over Draco’s arsehole, still slippery from his tongue. Draco’s cheeks are tinged pink as he looks over his shoulder, hoping for a peek of Harry’s own flushed face. He isn’t disappointed. Harry chuckles as he meets Draco’s glazed grey eyes, and presses his lips against his shoulder.
“What would you like me to do to you? Malfoy.” His surname is spoken with just as much fervent disdain as it had been when they’d both been students, mistaking attraction and obsession for hatred.
Draco moans as even more color rises to his cheeks, and he knows he looks wanton, like a virgin about to be fucked for the first time.
But they both know nothing could be further from the truth.
“Fuck me,” he begs, knowing that there was no other man in the world that he’d let see him like this. No one else is allowed to see him this vulnerable.
Harry knows that Draco hasn’t been stretched enough, but he also knows that Draco likes it rough. Still, Draco can feel him hesitate, torn between doing what Draco wants and not wanting to hurt him. “Now, Harry. Please. I’m ready, I swear.”
Harry’s hands grab Draco’s slender hips roughly as he nudges his cock against Draco’s entrance, just enough to tease. “Harry…” Draco whines, just one more time. Harry grins and slides into him easily enough, and Draco realizes he must have used a lubrication charm when he hadn’t been paying attention. Bastard, he thinks. Still, it hurts just a little, and Draco grits his teeth as Harry stretches him wide open. He knows he won’t be able to walk straight afterward, and he knows how turned on Harry will get knowing that he was the one who’d put Draco in that condition.
With a soft cry, Draco leans his head against his forearm as Harry settles into a fast rhythm and their filthy sex noises fill the room. “Baby… faster…” he insists, and Harry complies, apparently having lost any pretense of control. Harry’s hand snakes around Draco’s waist and begins fisting Draco’s cock with a sense of urgency. Draco knows why.
Harry likes for them to come at the same time.
“So close. God…” Harry’s hips slap against Draco’s arse as his hand strokes Draco to ecstasy. With a loud cry, Draco’s head tips back and rests heavily on Harry’s broad shoulder as Harry grounds out his name one last time.
Sated, they stay like that for a long time, with Harry still inside Draco and Draco leaning against Harry’s muscular chest. With a soft, reluctant sound, Harry pulls out and cleans them both up with a wave of his wand. “You need to get back to work before someone realizes where you’ve disappeared to.”
Draco laughs as he pulls his trousers back up and buckles his belt. “As if they don’t know. I bet half of them wank off to their own filthy thoughts of what we get up to when they’re not looking.”
Harry studies him, his eyes roaming over Draco’s perfect, pale face with a small smile tugging at his lips. “More than half,” he corrects idly, leaning in to kiss Draco one more time. Draco slips a hand around to the back of Harry’s neck insistently, hoping to draw it out a little longer.
His hand slides down Harry’s chest as Harry pulls away, a wry grin lighting up his face. Draco thinks that he’s never seen anything more beautiful and probably never will, but that’s just fine, because Harry’s his. All his.
“Go on, Mr. Head Auror,” Harry murmurs, his voice a soft purr that already has Draco’s knees going weak again. “You’ve got orders to give.”
Draco rolls his eyes and smoothes down his hair, even though he knows Harry’d prefer it to stay messy. “You know I prefer it when you’re the one calling the shots,” he says cheekily before leaning in close, his lips brushing along the shell of Harry’s ear. “I expect nothing less when we get home.” Harry groans and chuckles under his breath.
“You’re terrible,” Harry says.
“You love it.” Draco smoothes down his own robes and rests his hand on the door handle. “Now get back to work, Auror Potter.” He grins and winks at his boyfriend as he opens the door to head back to his own office with the huge wooden desk that they’ve already christened more than once. With a kittenish grin, he glances over his shoulder one last time at Harry, who is still watching him shamelessly.
“That’s an order.”
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,000
Warning(s): PWP
Summary: Draco loves it when Harry takes control.
Author's Note: LOL, it's porn. After a long hiatus of having not written anything at all, this is the filth that I come up with. Whoops...
“Put your hands on the wall. Now.”
Draco complies as Harry steps up behind him and reaches around his waist to unbuckle his belt and shove his trousers and pants down to the floor. They pool around his ankles and limit how far Draco can spread his legs, which means this is going to hurt. He can’t wait.
Harry moans and slips down to his knees where he begins to tongue fuck Draco’s arse as though it’s the last thing he intends to do on earth. The filthy slurping sounds he makes almost has Draco reaching for his own cock, but he knows Harry wouldn’t like that. He likes to finish Draco off himself, and if Draco touches himself, Harry will make him wait even longer to come. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead touching the wall.
Harry slaps his thigh but redoubles his efforts, making Draco’s breath come in short, airy pants as he struggles to stay standing. Harry groans into his arse and Draco’s fingers claw the wallpaper, desperate for Harry to touch him properly. There’s a long silence while Harry wipes off his chin, then stands, his calloused, rough hand running over Draco’s arse appreciatively.
Draco wishes he could see Harry at that moment. He’s still in his damn Auror uniform, for Christ’s sake. He can feel the brass buttons on the front brushing against his spine, and he shivers. “You filthy little slut,” Harry whispers in his ear. “You love this, standing in front of me with your pants around your ankles, moaning like a cheap whore.” Draco bites down on his bottom lip, because Harry’s rough voice alone is enough to send him over the edge. “Say it,” Harry insists, grinding his hips against Draco’s arse. Draco can feel how hard he is through his robes.
“I’m a whore,” Draco says obediently and Harry smiles against his shoulder.
“That’s right. And whose whore are you?”
Draco doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.” Harry seems pleased by his fast response, because Draco can hear his robes being shoved aside so he can run his cock over Draco’s arsehole, still slippery from his tongue. Draco’s cheeks are tinged pink as he looks over his shoulder, hoping for a peek of Harry’s own flushed face. He isn’t disappointed. Harry chuckles as he meets Draco’s glazed grey eyes, and presses his lips against his shoulder.
“What would you like me to do to you? Malfoy.” His surname is spoken with just as much fervent disdain as it had been when they’d both been students, mistaking attraction and obsession for hatred.
Draco moans as even more color rises to his cheeks, and he knows he looks wanton, like a virgin about to be fucked for the first time.
But they both know nothing could be further from the truth.
“Fuck me,” he begs, knowing that there was no other man in the world that he’d let see him like this. No one else is allowed to see him this vulnerable.
Harry knows that Draco hasn’t been stretched enough, but he also knows that Draco likes it rough. Still, Draco can feel him hesitate, torn between doing what Draco wants and not wanting to hurt him. “Now, Harry. Please. I’m ready, I swear.”
Harry’s hands grab Draco’s slender hips roughly as he nudges his cock against Draco’s entrance, just enough to tease. “Harry…” Draco whines, just one more time. Harry grins and slides into him easily enough, and Draco realizes he must have used a lubrication charm when he hadn’t been paying attention. Bastard, he thinks. Still, it hurts just a little, and Draco grits his teeth as Harry stretches him wide open. He knows he won’t be able to walk straight afterward, and he knows how turned on Harry will get knowing that he was the one who’d put Draco in that condition.
With a soft cry, Draco leans his head against his forearm as Harry settles into a fast rhythm and their filthy sex noises fill the room. “Baby… faster…” he insists, and Harry complies, apparently having lost any pretense of control. Harry’s hand snakes around Draco’s waist and begins fisting Draco’s cock with a sense of urgency. Draco knows why.
Harry likes for them to come at the same time.
“So close. God…” Harry’s hips slap against Draco’s arse as his hand strokes Draco to ecstasy. With a loud cry, Draco’s head tips back and rests heavily on Harry’s broad shoulder as Harry grounds out his name one last time.
Sated, they stay like that for a long time, with Harry still inside Draco and Draco leaning against Harry’s muscular chest. With a soft, reluctant sound, Harry pulls out and cleans them both up with a wave of his wand. “You need to get back to work before someone realizes where you’ve disappeared to.”
Draco laughs as he pulls his trousers back up and buckles his belt. “As if they don’t know. I bet half of them wank off to their own filthy thoughts of what we get up to when they’re not looking.”
Harry studies him, his eyes roaming over Draco’s perfect, pale face with a small smile tugging at his lips. “More than half,” he corrects idly, leaning in to kiss Draco one more time. Draco slips a hand around to the back of Harry’s neck insistently, hoping to draw it out a little longer.
His hand slides down Harry’s chest as Harry pulls away, a wry grin lighting up his face. Draco thinks that he’s never seen anything more beautiful and probably never will, but that’s just fine, because Harry’s his. All his.
“Go on, Mr. Head Auror,” Harry murmurs, his voice a soft purr that already has Draco’s knees going weak again. “You’ve got orders to give.”
Draco rolls his eyes and smoothes down his hair, even though he knows Harry’d prefer it to stay messy. “You know I prefer it when you’re the one calling the shots,” he says cheekily before leaning in close, his lips brushing along the shell of Harry’s ear. “I expect nothing less when we get home.” Harry groans and chuckles under his breath.
“You’re terrible,” Harry says.
“You love it.” Draco smoothes down his own robes and rests his hand on the door handle. “Now get back to work, Auror Potter.” He grins and winks at his boyfriend as he opens the door to head back to his own office with the huge wooden desk that they’ve already christened more than once. With a kittenish grin, he glances over his shoulder one last time at Harry, who is still watching him shamelessly.
“That’s an order.”