(no subject)
Title: Ambivalent Lucidity: Rewrite
Rating: R
Author: sakaim
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: When Draco Malfoy's mental health mysteriously declines, he is placed under the care of the only person he responds to: Harry Potter.
Warnings: Violence, rape, character death, mental illnesses (Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress, Paranoid Schizophrenia), slash, Pre-HBP
Note: COMPLETE
Green eyes slid slowly open and blinked owlishly for a moment before large hands came up and rubbed furiously at them before Harry’s vision cleared enough to make out the sleeping blond next to him. This was comfortable, the perfect way to wake up on a Christmas morning, and so it had been for the past two Christmases. Every year, Harry and Draco spent Christmas Eve at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione, and every Christmas morning since the morning after Draco’s Ancestral Rite finished, Harry did the very same thing.
He reached out, resting his hands on Draco’s body and pulling it closer, so close he could bury his nose in Draco’s hair. The blond gave a little moan in his sleep but did not wake, and Harry beamed at him, checking the clock over Draco’s shoulder. 08:23-perfect. No one else would be awake, with the exception of Molly, and so they would not be interrupted. He flicked his wand at the door, casting a Silencing Charm so as to not disturb anyone else, before he suddenly and forcefully rolled Draco onto his back. Draco hardly stirred, smacking his lips in his sleep. “You sod,” Harry breathed, and he swiftly disappeared beneath the blankets. Draco’s pale, bare stomach leapt under his fingertip-touch, and he pressed a kiss to the golden-blond trail of fuzz leading from Draco’s bellybutton into his boxer shorts before his fingers snagged the waistband and drew it downward. The boxers rolled off of Draco’s hips with little resistance, and Draco’s lips smacked again.
Neither Harry nor Draco was usually a morning-sex type of guy, they had discovered in the past two years, but Christmas was special, and traditions must be upheld. Their first Christmas together, just after Draco’s ‘personalities’ had disappeared, the blond had been sporting quite the morning erection and Harry had been completely unable to help himself.
“What are you doing?” Draco mumbled as his eyes slid open, but they immediately slammed closed again as Harry’s mouth, still terribly unskilled at this, slipped over his cock and gave it a very proper good morning kiss. “Ah…” His legs spread wantonly, and he lifted his knees to wrap his shins around Harry’s shoulders. He supposed it was lucky Ron had given the room to them for the evening, in celebration of Draco’s newfound sanity. Liquid heat pooled in his thighs, and he buried his hands in Harry’s hair as he thrust clumsily, sleepily, into Harry’s willing mouth.
Harry’s path took the same one it had two years ago, his lips rubbing lazily down from Draco’s bellybutton to his hips, those razor-sharp hips that jutted almost too high above his lover’s stomach, and he scraped the thin flesh with his teeth as his hand traversed Draco’s right thigh and moved upward. His slipped his thumb and index finger under the blond’s balls so that his palm cupped his perineum, and he suckled hard and fast on the flesh of the hip in his mouth, leaving a lovely purple mark. Draco’s morning erection brushed warm and velvety soft against his cheek, and Harry turned to run the wing of his nose along the proud shaft. Draco shifted in his slumber and exclaimed wordlessly when Harry’s right hand, still palming his taint, applied a bit of pressure and stimulated his prostate.
Harry gave a sleepy little laugh into the thick blond curls at the base of Draco’s cock, and he sinfully swiped only the very tip of his tongue where the shaft met Draco’s scrotum. Harry’s own arousal pressed insistently into the white sheet beneath him, and he whispered, breathed, “Wake up, wake up,” against the head of Draco’s now-dark red cock. His lips were slick with saliva as he spoke, and Draco was gasping above him.
Draco was gasping as Harry’s head bobbed on his cock, and he realized with a shock that he had not returned the first blowjob Harry had given him. Harry did not seem to mind, however, for he was swallowing Draco as much as he could have, opening his throat and trying to take him all, but he gagged around the length and pulled back with a clumsy giggle. “Guess I can’t do that yet,” Harry proclaimed from somewhere-Draco knew exactly where-beneath the blanket. Draco grinned and gave a nod, but his eyes were shut as tightly as they could be, for he knew that Harry was not done. “You want me to continue?”
“Fuck, yeah…”
“I’m awake,” Draco moaned with a shudder, and he glanced over to the clock before his eyes rolled back in his head. Harry’s tongue was rolling all over the cherry-red apex of his erection, then it was traveling downward with long strokes, coating him in saliva. “You’ve got the sluttiest mouth for a Golden Boy, you know that?” He loved Harry’s mouth, loved it almost as much as he loved his arse or his cock, just not quite. Harry responded by doing something he certainly had not been able to do two years ago: he swallowed Draco whole, taking all of him into his mouth and throat and pressing his lips to those aforementioned curls in a strange sort of kiss. Draco cursed loudly and ached all over with the heat of the encounter, spreading his legs and quite literally whining for more. Harry chuckled around his cock, and Draco was sure he would just die. Harry pushed with his palm again, and the tingles shooting up Draco’s spine from his prostate jump-started his heart again, and he was writhing so hard that the fitted sheet came out from under the mattress and tangled around them. Neither man noticed.
“Fuck me?” Draco asked, and this was the reason for which he hated morning sex typically. He could not hold himself back, could not allow foreplay to go on as long as it might have, for he was quick to come to climax just after waking. Had it been evening, they would have fooled around for half an hour, minimum, with much of Harry’s tongue buried deep in Draco’s arse. It turned Draco on like nothing else, but he knew that Harry enjoyed it far more than he did, and so rimming would normally be saved for the moments just before sex, or they would both come in moments. This morning, and every morning they did this, however, Draco wanted fucked and he wanted fucked immediately.
“No,” Harry breathed as he slipped his mouth off of that erection with a soft pop, and he crept with the liquidity of a cat up Draco’s body and propped himself up over him, his nose just inches away from his lover’s. Draco’s erection was pointing straight upward and nudging Harry’s in a suggestive manner, and Harry grinned at the tortured look on his boyfriend’s face. “No, I think I’m ready…”
“Fuck me, Harry…Please, I’m ready for you to fuck me,” Draco gasped as Harry crawled over him and lay, naked and grinning on top of him. He did not care that he had just killed his father days before, that he was only hours into his stability of mind-he wanted Harry and was tired of waiting. For once, they would not have to be concerned with Draco getting lost inside his own head, would not have to stop to make sure Draco was all right because he was.
Harry’s eyes widened and he searched Draco’s grey ones as though trying to detect whether or not he was lying. He found no deceit there, and his eyebrows knitted together before he fingered through Draco’s hair and smiled. “Of course,” Harry murmured as he dipped his head and pressed a few heated kisses to the ridge of Draco’s collarbone. A sudden fear gripped him-he really did not have much of an idea how this worked at all-but Draco knew what he was doing, and he pulled the sinful little bottle of oil he had purchased for them through owl order the week before they left Hogwarts from the nightstand and pushed it into Harry’s hand.
“Finger me…”
“What do you-? A-ah, fuck, Harry, really?” Draco stammered as he realized what Harry was suggesting. For the two years they had been having sex, Harry had been much too nervous about letting Draco penetrate him, and Draco had so desperately wanted to. He never pushed the subject, as he was happy bottoming for Harry at any time, but that certainly had not stopped him from wanting it. Harry nodded down at him and grinned before he snagged the lube from the bedside table and moved so he was on all fours, proudly displaying his arse to Draco.
The blond’s cheeks lit on fire as Harry coated his own fingers in the oil and waved them playfully at Draco before He reached back and slipped one finger into himself. “That’s right,” Harry purred seductively, and he shot Draco a devilish look over his shoulder before he pushed another finger inside with a slight wince then began to stretch himself with them. He had been preparing for this surprise for weeks, casually fingering himself in the shower, getting used to the feeling of something in his arse, and so the wince was really for Draco’s enjoyment.
Draco reached out a hand and palmed Harry’s left buttock before he squeezed it and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His grey eyes were fixated on Harry impaling himself upon his own fingers, and he reached down with his right hand to stroke himself lightly at the sight. “Take the time you need,” he murmured, and he swallowed thickly as Harry shoved another finger into himself and began to fuck himself with them. “You’re a fucking minx, you know that?”
“Don’t forget it,” Harry whispered, and he gave a breathy moan as Draco grabbed the lubrication from his hand and began spreading it liberally on his cock. Harry pulled his fingers out of himself and gave his own arse a slap before he arched an eyebrow at Draco. “Go on then, Malfoy…”
Draco sneered at him at the jab, but his heart was pounding heavily in his chest as he lifted himself onto his knees and guided the head of his erection to Harry’s puckered, slick arse and pushed forward. Warmth enveloped him as the muscles granted him passage and he slid inside of the other man, his breath immediately becoming shallow as Harry pushed back, pulling Draco deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt within the black-haired boy. “Fucking hell, Potter…”
It certainly was not Draco’s first time having someone’s fingers shoved up his arse, but this was most definitely the first time he had not been terrified during the ordeal. He was arching his back and moaning as Harry, currently two fingers deep, traced the inside of his ear with the very tip of his tongue. Draco felt as though his cock was going to explode when Harry’s fingers crooked upward and sent shudders up his spine, and he heard himself choking out Harry’s name just as a third finger wriggled its way inside. “Harry…Fucking Merlin, will you get on with it? You’re not going to hurt me…”
Harry’s eyes met Draco’s once more before he grinned and nodded. “Whatever you say…” He watched as Draco shoved the pillows they had previously been sleeping on under his hips, elevating them, and he groaned as Draco took the oil and spread it over Harry’s erection. A flutter of doubt, of nervousness, made Harry swallow convulsively, but he wanted this, wanted to lose his virginity to Draco right then. He whimpered as he positioned himself in front of Draco, his legs stretched out awkwardly behind him for the moment as he pressed his cock to Draco’s arse and slipped only the head inside. Even that much was enough to make Harry want to come, but he held himself back and pushed further, hands shaking on Draco’s hips as they found purchase there.
Draco was moaning and whimpering beneath him, opening his legs wider and bearing down on that cock, slight twinges of pain fluttering through his abdomen as Harry finally had pushed in as far as he could, his scrotum resting warmly against Draco’s tailbone. The black-haired boy was trembling all over by this point, and he waited until Draco gave him a nod before he moved over Draco, propping himself up over him and digging his knees into the sheet-strewn mattress just before he began to thrust shallowly. Draco’s hands were on Harry’s neck and hip, and he met Harry’s eyes, gasping for breath as he was fucked. He wanted to say something, to tell Harry that he loved him more than life itself, but Harry took a much deeper thrust, and a loud, pleased cry ripped out of his throat instead.
Harry nuzzled his face into the sheets and moaned deeply as Draco pulled back and began to plunge into him again and again. He suddenly wondered why in the hell he had not let Draco do this before-it was wonderful-but his thoughts were cut short as Draco changed his angle just slightly and rubbed right against Harry’s prostate in a way that was so pleasurable it almost hurt. His short nails dug into the bed, and he squeezed his buttocks around Draco’s cock, the moan it pulled from the blond making Harry want to flip right around and fuck him in return, but then Draco was hitting that spot again, and he was crying out viscerally into the quiet room with every one of Draco’s thrusts.
The feel of Harry squeezing and the sound of him announcing his pleasure to the mattress forced Draco to fuck him ever harder, and he reached around to take a shaky hold on Harry’s arousal. He tried to stroke it in time with his thrusts, but he could not concentrate on both at once, so his hand was, in his opinion, doing a rather halfhearted job. Harry did not seem to agree, however, for he spluttered something unintelligible into the bed before beginning to move, meeting Draco’s cock halfway on every movement. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Draco!” Harry choked, and Draco was just about to let himself come when Harry suddenly pulled off of Draco and shoved him hard back onto the bed.
“Wh-wha-?!” Draco managed, sprawled out on his back, before Harry crawled over him and poured a hefty amount of oil down Draco’s erection before he positioned himself over it, his legs to either side of Draco’s hips, and Draco met those green eyes with a look of painful arousal before Harry pushed himself down on that proud cock. The now-familiar warmth of Harry’s arse clutching at Draco made the blond reach up and bury his nails in Harry’s hips, and his eyes rolled back as Harry began bouncing himself atop him, one of his hands wrapped around his own cock and stroking it in time with every lift and fall.
Harry pushed his body up a bit and grabbed one of Draco’s legs, never stopping his desperate thrusting into the other as he pulled that leg over his shoulder and rested his cheek lightly against Draco’s shin. Draco was arching his back and writhing, jerking himself off while Harry sank himself deep inside him again and again. Draco felt tears-not of pain, that was for certain-coursing down his cheeks as Harry began to lose himself in the sensations. “Harder…Fuck, harder!” Draco begged in a loud, gasping cry, and Harry complied with his request, slamming so hard into his boyfriend that he was amazed it did not hurt the blond. But no, Draco was masturbating furiously and, now, sobbing Harry’s name as he drew ever closer to orgasm. Harry’s heart began to beat faster, and the white-hot flower of heat in his groin was threatening to burst at any moment as he both watched Draco and partook of him. Draco’s arse began to squeeze around his thrusting erection, and Draco suddenly yelled without restraint, all of his muscles tightening almost impossibly around Harry as he came so forcefully that jet after jet of white splattered his chest and the underside of his chin.
Harry gasped and let himself go completely at the sight and feel of Draco coming around him, and Draco’s name was ripped from his chest as he felt his own cock begin to twitch deep within the other boy’s clenched arse. Draco was still coming hard when Harry emptied his desire deep within him, his balls tight against his body as his hips jerked convulsively and his cock buried itself as deep as possible within that tight passage as he came.
Draco was writhing and twisting under Harry, his hips occasionally jerking hard upward as Harry began each downward descent. Harry knew that he, Draco, was not long for this world, and he gave fucking himself on that cock all the energy he had. He reached back with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s scrotum, giving it a soft, caressing squeeze, and just before he knew Draco was about to come, he brought his finger up to his mouth, soaking it in saliva before he moved it downward and slipped it deep within Draco and pressed against his prostate.
That was it for Draco. He threw his forearm over his eyes and stopped holding back, shuddering and moaning Harry’s name as he immediately began to ejaculate inside the other man. Harry did not stop riding him for an instant, and Draco jerked and spasmed beneath him while he came, cursing. When he fell still and lifted his forearm to peek out at Harry, cheeks flushed and mouth slightly agape, he shuddered as Harry pulled himself off of his cock and moved up over him, still jerking himself off determinedly. “Open up,” Harry breathed, and Draco’s eyes widened before he opened his mouth obediently. Harry pushed his cock deep inside of that willing mouth and let himself go, groaning as Draco’s lips suckled him as he finally came. He could feel Draco’s tongue swiping along the sides of his erection as he poured himself down Draco’s throat, and when he pulled out and collapsed backward onto the mattress, shivering with the force of his orgasm, he grinned at Draco.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Draco…”
“Happy Christmas, Potter.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
There came a knock at the door around half an hour later. Harry and Draco were already cleaned up and dressed for the day, so they were not startled when Ron opened the door and peeked inside. “Oh, you’re up,” he stated with a hint of surprise in his voice, and his head disappeared for a moment before he slipped into the room and closed the door. There was the sound of a baby screaming downstairs before he closed it, and he rolled his eyes before he shook his head. “You don’t mind if I hide in here for a moment, do you? Bill can’t get his baby to stop shrieking long enough for us to get started on presents, and Mum’s trying to get me to watch it.”
Harry snorted and shook his head. “Hide away,” he invited as he watched Draco inspecting himself in the mirror. Ron nodded and looked as though he was considering sitting on the bed, but he caught sight of the half-empty bottle of oil left out on the nightstand and thought better of it.
“Er, all right.” He settled for a chair.
It had been two full years since Draco was cured, and their lives had changed completely since then. They had graduated from Hogwarts, and Harry was currently in Auror training for the Ministry even though Voldemort had been defeated the year before by Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Ron had been away at the time, and Voldemort had caught the three one Saturday night when they were having dinner in Diagon Alley, where Harry and Draco shared a flat. It was a combined spell from Harry and Draco that killed him, and the boys had been in St. Mungo’s for weeks afterward. Neither knew what spells they had cast, but they supposed it did not matter. They were alive, and Voldemort was not. Nothing could be more important.
Draco worked at Quality Quidditch Supplies across from their flat, though he certainly did not have to. “I have to have something to do with my time, Potter,” he had snapped at Harry when Harry skeptically questioned his motives. He worked while Harry was away in training for the better part of every weekday, though he never worked more than six hours or so. Both he and Harry had the newest broomstick prototype, Tailwind IV, though they wondered if there had ever been a Tailwind I, II, or III. Harry insisted that it was really just a more expensive version of the Firebolt, but Draco knew better. It went half a mile an hour faster, had slightly better balance (Harry insisted there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt’s balance, but Draco informed him that he sat crooked on it, so he would not have noticed. Harry thumped him.), and had better anti-jinxing charms. It was the sort of subject they did not discuss too often, as it often led to a fight.
Ron and Hermione were no longer together, as Ron got too paranoid whenever he left on business trips for Fred and George’s joke shop. They parted on good terms, and it was painfully obvious that Hermione was still deeply in love with Ron, but she told Harry that they both needed to grow up a bit before trying again.
Bill and Fleur Delacour were married and had a daughter, Amiella, who was just three months old. Charlie was still single and fighting dragons in Romania, while Fred and George were wildly successful with their shops in both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Harry often had them over for lunch on weekends, and Draco was growing quite fond of them. Ginny was flying for the Holyhead Harpies as Chaser, their newest team member. Percy was Assistant to the Minster of Magic, and they rarely saw him.
There had been a good five minutes since the baby stopped crying, and so when Molly called, “Presents!” up the stairs, the three men left the room and stomped downstairs. Draco looked over at Harry and beamed at him, tangling their fingers together and looking pleased. Harry leaned over and kissed him just before they reached the bottom of the stairs and took a seat on the floor next to Bill, who immediately handed the baby over to Draco.
Draco made a funny face at Bill and cradled the child in his arms, looking down at her with something between terror and adoration. Harry cocked an eyebrow at him and watched as Draco touched her hair and her chubby cheeks curiously, and he leaned lightly into Draco’s shoulder. The baby grabbed one of Draco’s fingers and pulled it into her mouth with a strong grip, and Draco wrinkled his nose as she gummed his fingertip. “Gross,” he muttered, but he was smiling, and when Bill offered to take the baby back, Draco shook his head and continued to hold her.
Harry grinned at him and, when everyone began ripping their presents open, he leaned over in the noise and whispered, “You want one?” Draco’s eyes widened and he met Harry’s gaze with a skeptical look, and Harry burst out laughing at his expression. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”
“You can clean up the puke and the shit, Potter…” They laughed together, and Bill took the baby so they could open their gifts. Sitting there, covered in sweaters and tacky underpants, Harry looked over to Draco again, watching as he opened his gifts, and he smiled to himself. Draco glanced over and saw him staring, and he gave him a slight smile with a questioning look before going back to his presents.
Harry knew how lucky he was. Even Ron and Hermione had not been able to stay together, and everyone still gave him and Draco curious looks, as though wondering how they made it work so well. Harry knew it was because they told each other everything and kept no secrets whatsoever, and that it was because they trusted each other implicitly. He knew Draco would not cheat on him, and he would never even think about it himself. He often thought about how McGonagall and Dumbledore-may they rest in peace-had given him the option of leaving Draco by the wayside (though Draco had certainly given him no such choice). He could not even imagine his life now without Draco at his side, and he did not regret for a moment the night he took Draco back into his care.
“Will you stop staring at me?!” Draco snarled playfully at Harry so the others could not hear. Harry blinked at him then smiled apologetically, chuckling as Draco leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “What are you thinking about, anyway?”
“Your arse,” Harry proclaimed firmly, a stupid grin on his face, and Draco rolled his eyes.
“Naturally.”
Need to catch up?
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two
Rating: R
Author: sakaim
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: When Draco Malfoy's mental health mysteriously declines, he is placed under the care of the only person he responds to: Harry Potter.
Warnings: Violence, rape, character death, mental illnesses (Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress, Paranoid Schizophrenia), slash, Pre-HBP
Note: COMPLETE
Green eyes slid slowly open and blinked owlishly for a moment before large hands came up and rubbed furiously at them before Harry’s vision cleared enough to make out the sleeping blond next to him. This was comfortable, the perfect way to wake up on a Christmas morning, and so it had been for the past two Christmases. Every year, Harry and Draco spent Christmas Eve at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione, and every Christmas morning since the morning after Draco’s Ancestral Rite finished, Harry did the very same thing.
He reached out, resting his hands on Draco’s body and pulling it closer, so close he could bury his nose in Draco’s hair. The blond gave a little moan in his sleep but did not wake, and Harry beamed at him, checking the clock over Draco’s shoulder. 08:23-perfect. No one else would be awake, with the exception of Molly, and so they would not be interrupted. He flicked his wand at the door, casting a Silencing Charm so as to not disturb anyone else, before he suddenly and forcefully rolled Draco onto his back. Draco hardly stirred, smacking his lips in his sleep. “You sod,” Harry breathed, and he swiftly disappeared beneath the blankets. Draco’s pale, bare stomach leapt under his fingertip-touch, and he pressed a kiss to the golden-blond trail of fuzz leading from Draco’s bellybutton into his boxer shorts before his fingers snagged the waistband and drew it downward. The boxers rolled off of Draco’s hips with little resistance, and Draco’s lips smacked again.
Neither Harry nor Draco was usually a morning-sex type of guy, they had discovered in the past two years, but Christmas was special, and traditions must be upheld. Their first Christmas together, just after Draco’s ‘personalities’ had disappeared, the blond had been sporting quite the morning erection and Harry had been completely unable to help himself.
“What are you doing?” Draco mumbled as his eyes slid open, but they immediately slammed closed again as Harry’s mouth, still terribly unskilled at this, slipped over his cock and gave it a very proper good morning kiss. “Ah…” His legs spread wantonly, and he lifted his knees to wrap his shins around Harry’s shoulders. He supposed it was lucky Ron had given the room to them for the evening, in celebration of Draco’s newfound sanity. Liquid heat pooled in his thighs, and he buried his hands in Harry’s hair as he thrust clumsily, sleepily, into Harry’s willing mouth.
Harry’s path took the same one it had two years ago, his lips rubbing lazily down from Draco’s bellybutton to his hips, those razor-sharp hips that jutted almost too high above his lover’s stomach, and he scraped the thin flesh with his teeth as his hand traversed Draco’s right thigh and moved upward. His slipped his thumb and index finger under the blond’s balls so that his palm cupped his perineum, and he suckled hard and fast on the flesh of the hip in his mouth, leaving a lovely purple mark. Draco’s morning erection brushed warm and velvety soft against his cheek, and Harry turned to run the wing of his nose along the proud shaft. Draco shifted in his slumber and exclaimed wordlessly when Harry’s right hand, still palming his taint, applied a bit of pressure and stimulated his prostate.
Harry gave a sleepy little laugh into the thick blond curls at the base of Draco’s cock, and he sinfully swiped only the very tip of his tongue where the shaft met Draco’s scrotum. Harry’s own arousal pressed insistently into the white sheet beneath him, and he whispered, breathed, “Wake up, wake up,” against the head of Draco’s now-dark red cock. His lips were slick with saliva as he spoke, and Draco was gasping above him.
Draco was gasping as Harry’s head bobbed on his cock, and he realized with a shock that he had not returned the first blowjob Harry had given him. Harry did not seem to mind, however, for he was swallowing Draco as much as he could have, opening his throat and trying to take him all, but he gagged around the length and pulled back with a clumsy giggle. “Guess I can’t do that yet,” Harry proclaimed from somewhere-Draco knew exactly where-beneath the blanket. Draco grinned and gave a nod, but his eyes were shut as tightly as they could be, for he knew that Harry was not done. “You want me to continue?”
“Fuck, yeah…”
“I’m awake,” Draco moaned with a shudder, and he glanced over to the clock before his eyes rolled back in his head. Harry’s tongue was rolling all over the cherry-red apex of his erection, then it was traveling downward with long strokes, coating him in saliva. “You’ve got the sluttiest mouth for a Golden Boy, you know that?” He loved Harry’s mouth, loved it almost as much as he loved his arse or his cock, just not quite. Harry responded by doing something he certainly had not been able to do two years ago: he swallowed Draco whole, taking all of him into his mouth and throat and pressing his lips to those aforementioned curls in a strange sort of kiss. Draco cursed loudly and ached all over with the heat of the encounter, spreading his legs and quite literally whining for more. Harry chuckled around his cock, and Draco was sure he would just die. Harry pushed with his palm again, and the tingles shooting up Draco’s spine from his prostate jump-started his heart again, and he was writhing so hard that the fitted sheet came out from under the mattress and tangled around them. Neither man noticed.
“Fuck me?” Draco asked, and this was the reason for which he hated morning sex typically. He could not hold himself back, could not allow foreplay to go on as long as it might have, for he was quick to come to climax just after waking. Had it been evening, they would have fooled around for half an hour, minimum, with much of Harry’s tongue buried deep in Draco’s arse. It turned Draco on like nothing else, but he knew that Harry enjoyed it far more than he did, and so rimming would normally be saved for the moments just before sex, or they would both come in moments. This morning, and every morning they did this, however, Draco wanted fucked and he wanted fucked immediately.
“No,” Harry breathed as he slipped his mouth off of that erection with a soft pop, and he crept with the liquidity of a cat up Draco’s body and propped himself up over him, his nose just inches away from his lover’s. Draco’s erection was pointing straight upward and nudging Harry’s in a suggestive manner, and Harry grinned at the tortured look on his boyfriend’s face. “No, I think I’m ready…”
“Fuck me, Harry…Please, I’m ready for you to fuck me,” Draco gasped as Harry crawled over him and lay, naked and grinning on top of him. He did not care that he had just killed his father days before, that he was only hours into his stability of mind-he wanted Harry and was tired of waiting. For once, they would not have to be concerned with Draco getting lost inside his own head, would not have to stop to make sure Draco was all right because he was.
Harry’s eyes widened and he searched Draco’s grey ones as though trying to detect whether or not he was lying. He found no deceit there, and his eyebrows knitted together before he fingered through Draco’s hair and smiled. “Of course,” Harry murmured as he dipped his head and pressed a few heated kisses to the ridge of Draco’s collarbone. A sudden fear gripped him-he really did not have much of an idea how this worked at all-but Draco knew what he was doing, and he pulled the sinful little bottle of oil he had purchased for them through owl order the week before they left Hogwarts from the nightstand and pushed it into Harry’s hand.
“Finger me…”
“What do you-? A-ah, fuck, Harry, really?” Draco stammered as he realized what Harry was suggesting. For the two years they had been having sex, Harry had been much too nervous about letting Draco penetrate him, and Draco had so desperately wanted to. He never pushed the subject, as he was happy bottoming for Harry at any time, but that certainly had not stopped him from wanting it. Harry nodded down at him and grinned before he snagged the lube from the bedside table and moved so he was on all fours, proudly displaying his arse to Draco.
The blond’s cheeks lit on fire as Harry coated his own fingers in the oil and waved them playfully at Draco before He reached back and slipped one finger into himself. “That’s right,” Harry purred seductively, and he shot Draco a devilish look over his shoulder before he pushed another finger inside with a slight wince then began to stretch himself with them. He had been preparing for this surprise for weeks, casually fingering himself in the shower, getting used to the feeling of something in his arse, and so the wince was really for Draco’s enjoyment.
Draco reached out a hand and palmed Harry’s left buttock before he squeezed it and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His grey eyes were fixated on Harry impaling himself upon his own fingers, and he reached down with his right hand to stroke himself lightly at the sight. “Take the time you need,” he murmured, and he swallowed thickly as Harry shoved another finger into himself and began to fuck himself with them. “You’re a fucking minx, you know that?”
“Don’t forget it,” Harry whispered, and he gave a breathy moan as Draco grabbed the lubrication from his hand and began spreading it liberally on his cock. Harry pulled his fingers out of himself and gave his own arse a slap before he arched an eyebrow at Draco. “Go on then, Malfoy…”
Draco sneered at him at the jab, but his heart was pounding heavily in his chest as he lifted himself onto his knees and guided the head of his erection to Harry’s puckered, slick arse and pushed forward. Warmth enveloped him as the muscles granted him passage and he slid inside of the other man, his breath immediately becoming shallow as Harry pushed back, pulling Draco deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt within the black-haired boy. “Fucking hell, Potter…”
It certainly was not Draco’s first time having someone’s fingers shoved up his arse, but this was most definitely the first time he had not been terrified during the ordeal. He was arching his back and moaning as Harry, currently two fingers deep, traced the inside of his ear with the very tip of his tongue. Draco felt as though his cock was going to explode when Harry’s fingers crooked upward and sent shudders up his spine, and he heard himself choking out Harry’s name just as a third finger wriggled its way inside. “Harry…Fucking Merlin, will you get on with it? You’re not going to hurt me…”
Harry’s eyes met Draco’s once more before he grinned and nodded. “Whatever you say…” He watched as Draco shoved the pillows they had previously been sleeping on under his hips, elevating them, and he groaned as Draco took the oil and spread it over Harry’s erection. A flutter of doubt, of nervousness, made Harry swallow convulsively, but he wanted this, wanted to lose his virginity to Draco right then. He whimpered as he positioned himself in front of Draco, his legs stretched out awkwardly behind him for the moment as he pressed his cock to Draco’s arse and slipped only the head inside. Even that much was enough to make Harry want to come, but he held himself back and pushed further, hands shaking on Draco’s hips as they found purchase there.
Draco was moaning and whimpering beneath him, opening his legs wider and bearing down on that cock, slight twinges of pain fluttering through his abdomen as Harry finally had pushed in as far as he could, his scrotum resting warmly against Draco’s tailbone. The black-haired boy was trembling all over by this point, and he waited until Draco gave him a nod before he moved over Draco, propping himself up over him and digging his knees into the sheet-strewn mattress just before he began to thrust shallowly. Draco’s hands were on Harry’s neck and hip, and he met Harry’s eyes, gasping for breath as he was fucked. He wanted to say something, to tell Harry that he loved him more than life itself, but Harry took a much deeper thrust, and a loud, pleased cry ripped out of his throat instead.
Harry nuzzled his face into the sheets and moaned deeply as Draco pulled back and began to plunge into him again and again. He suddenly wondered why in the hell he had not let Draco do this before-it was wonderful-but his thoughts were cut short as Draco changed his angle just slightly and rubbed right against Harry’s prostate in a way that was so pleasurable it almost hurt. His short nails dug into the bed, and he squeezed his buttocks around Draco’s cock, the moan it pulled from the blond making Harry want to flip right around and fuck him in return, but then Draco was hitting that spot again, and he was crying out viscerally into the quiet room with every one of Draco’s thrusts.
The feel of Harry squeezing and the sound of him announcing his pleasure to the mattress forced Draco to fuck him ever harder, and he reached around to take a shaky hold on Harry’s arousal. He tried to stroke it in time with his thrusts, but he could not concentrate on both at once, so his hand was, in his opinion, doing a rather halfhearted job. Harry did not seem to agree, however, for he spluttered something unintelligible into the bed before beginning to move, meeting Draco’s cock halfway on every movement. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Draco!” Harry choked, and Draco was just about to let himself come when Harry suddenly pulled off of Draco and shoved him hard back onto the bed.
“Wh-wha-?!” Draco managed, sprawled out on his back, before Harry crawled over him and poured a hefty amount of oil down Draco’s erection before he positioned himself over it, his legs to either side of Draco’s hips, and Draco met those green eyes with a look of painful arousal before Harry pushed himself down on that proud cock. The now-familiar warmth of Harry’s arse clutching at Draco made the blond reach up and bury his nails in Harry’s hips, and his eyes rolled back as Harry began bouncing himself atop him, one of his hands wrapped around his own cock and stroking it in time with every lift and fall.
Harry pushed his body up a bit and grabbed one of Draco’s legs, never stopping his desperate thrusting into the other as he pulled that leg over his shoulder and rested his cheek lightly against Draco’s shin. Draco was arching his back and writhing, jerking himself off while Harry sank himself deep inside him again and again. Draco felt tears-not of pain, that was for certain-coursing down his cheeks as Harry began to lose himself in the sensations. “Harder…Fuck, harder!” Draco begged in a loud, gasping cry, and Harry complied with his request, slamming so hard into his boyfriend that he was amazed it did not hurt the blond. But no, Draco was masturbating furiously and, now, sobbing Harry’s name as he drew ever closer to orgasm. Harry’s heart began to beat faster, and the white-hot flower of heat in his groin was threatening to burst at any moment as he both watched Draco and partook of him. Draco’s arse began to squeeze around his thrusting erection, and Draco suddenly yelled without restraint, all of his muscles tightening almost impossibly around Harry as he came so forcefully that jet after jet of white splattered his chest and the underside of his chin.
Harry gasped and let himself go completely at the sight and feel of Draco coming around him, and Draco’s name was ripped from his chest as he felt his own cock begin to twitch deep within the other boy’s clenched arse. Draco was still coming hard when Harry emptied his desire deep within him, his balls tight against his body as his hips jerked convulsively and his cock buried itself as deep as possible within that tight passage as he came.
Draco was writhing and twisting under Harry, his hips occasionally jerking hard upward as Harry began each downward descent. Harry knew that he, Draco, was not long for this world, and he gave fucking himself on that cock all the energy he had. He reached back with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s scrotum, giving it a soft, caressing squeeze, and just before he knew Draco was about to come, he brought his finger up to his mouth, soaking it in saliva before he moved it downward and slipped it deep within Draco and pressed against his prostate.
That was it for Draco. He threw his forearm over his eyes and stopped holding back, shuddering and moaning Harry’s name as he immediately began to ejaculate inside the other man. Harry did not stop riding him for an instant, and Draco jerked and spasmed beneath him while he came, cursing. When he fell still and lifted his forearm to peek out at Harry, cheeks flushed and mouth slightly agape, he shuddered as Harry pulled himself off of his cock and moved up over him, still jerking himself off determinedly. “Open up,” Harry breathed, and Draco’s eyes widened before he opened his mouth obediently. Harry pushed his cock deep inside of that willing mouth and let himself go, groaning as Draco’s lips suckled him as he finally came. He could feel Draco’s tongue swiping along the sides of his erection as he poured himself down Draco’s throat, and when he pulled out and collapsed backward onto the mattress, shivering with the force of his orgasm, he grinned at Draco.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Draco…”
“Happy Christmas, Potter.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry.”
There came a knock at the door around half an hour later. Harry and Draco were already cleaned up and dressed for the day, so they were not startled when Ron opened the door and peeked inside. “Oh, you’re up,” he stated with a hint of surprise in his voice, and his head disappeared for a moment before he slipped into the room and closed the door. There was the sound of a baby screaming downstairs before he closed it, and he rolled his eyes before he shook his head. “You don’t mind if I hide in here for a moment, do you? Bill can’t get his baby to stop shrieking long enough for us to get started on presents, and Mum’s trying to get me to watch it.”
Harry snorted and shook his head. “Hide away,” he invited as he watched Draco inspecting himself in the mirror. Ron nodded and looked as though he was considering sitting on the bed, but he caught sight of the half-empty bottle of oil left out on the nightstand and thought better of it.
“Er, all right.” He settled for a chair.
It had been two full years since Draco was cured, and their lives had changed completely since then. They had graduated from Hogwarts, and Harry was currently in Auror training for the Ministry even though Voldemort had been defeated the year before by Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Ron had been away at the time, and Voldemort had caught the three one Saturday night when they were having dinner in Diagon Alley, where Harry and Draco shared a flat. It was a combined spell from Harry and Draco that killed him, and the boys had been in St. Mungo’s for weeks afterward. Neither knew what spells they had cast, but they supposed it did not matter. They were alive, and Voldemort was not. Nothing could be more important.
Draco worked at Quality Quidditch Supplies across from their flat, though he certainly did not have to. “I have to have something to do with my time, Potter,” he had snapped at Harry when Harry skeptically questioned his motives. He worked while Harry was away in training for the better part of every weekday, though he never worked more than six hours or so. Both he and Harry had the newest broomstick prototype, Tailwind IV, though they wondered if there had ever been a Tailwind I, II, or III. Harry insisted that it was really just a more expensive version of the Firebolt, but Draco knew better. It went half a mile an hour faster, had slightly better balance (Harry insisted there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt’s balance, but Draco informed him that he sat crooked on it, so he would not have noticed. Harry thumped him.), and had better anti-jinxing charms. It was the sort of subject they did not discuss too often, as it often led to a fight.
Ron and Hermione were no longer together, as Ron got too paranoid whenever he left on business trips for Fred and George’s joke shop. They parted on good terms, and it was painfully obvious that Hermione was still deeply in love with Ron, but she told Harry that they both needed to grow up a bit before trying again.
Bill and Fleur Delacour were married and had a daughter, Amiella, who was just three months old. Charlie was still single and fighting dragons in Romania, while Fred and George were wildly successful with their shops in both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Harry often had them over for lunch on weekends, and Draco was growing quite fond of them. Ginny was flying for the Holyhead Harpies as Chaser, their newest team member. Percy was Assistant to the Minster of Magic, and they rarely saw him.
There had been a good five minutes since the baby stopped crying, and so when Molly called, “Presents!” up the stairs, the three men left the room and stomped downstairs. Draco looked over at Harry and beamed at him, tangling their fingers together and looking pleased. Harry leaned over and kissed him just before they reached the bottom of the stairs and took a seat on the floor next to Bill, who immediately handed the baby over to Draco.
Draco made a funny face at Bill and cradled the child in his arms, looking down at her with something between terror and adoration. Harry cocked an eyebrow at him and watched as Draco touched her hair and her chubby cheeks curiously, and he leaned lightly into Draco’s shoulder. The baby grabbed one of Draco’s fingers and pulled it into her mouth with a strong grip, and Draco wrinkled his nose as she gummed his fingertip. “Gross,” he muttered, but he was smiling, and when Bill offered to take the baby back, Draco shook his head and continued to hold her.
Harry grinned at him and, when everyone began ripping their presents open, he leaned over in the noise and whispered, “You want one?” Draco’s eyes widened and he met Harry’s gaze with a skeptical look, and Harry burst out laughing at his expression. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”
“You can clean up the puke and the shit, Potter…” They laughed together, and Bill took the baby so they could open their gifts. Sitting there, covered in sweaters and tacky underpants, Harry looked over to Draco again, watching as he opened his gifts, and he smiled to himself. Draco glanced over and saw him staring, and he gave him a slight smile with a questioning look before going back to his presents.
Harry knew how lucky he was. Even Ron and Hermione had not been able to stay together, and everyone still gave him and Draco curious looks, as though wondering how they made it work so well. Harry knew it was because they told each other everything and kept no secrets whatsoever, and that it was because they trusted each other implicitly. He knew Draco would not cheat on him, and he would never even think about it himself. He often thought about how McGonagall and Dumbledore-may they rest in peace-had given him the option of leaving Draco by the wayside (though Draco had certainly given him no such choice). He could not even imagine his life now without Draco at his side, and he did not regret for a moment the night he took Draco back into his care.
“Will you stop staring at me?!” Draco snarled playfully at Harry so the others could not hear. Harry blinked at him then smiled apologetically, chuckling as Draco leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “What are you thinking about, anyway?”
“Your arse,” Harry proclaimed firmly, a stupid grin on his face, and Draco rolled his eyes.
“Naturally.”
Need to catch up?
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two