FIC: A Faint Stir of Madness (NC-17)
Title: A Faint Stir of Madness
Author: 9fn432
Prompt: #10
Summary: Draco loves arse, in particular, he’s taken with Harry’s arse, but actually getting near that arse is impossible and it’s driving Draco mad. Cue UST, cock-tease Harry and scheming females, will Draco win Harry over?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warnings: pretty much PWP, boysecks (obviously)
Word Count: ~10K
Author's Notes: I took the title from Marcus Foster’s song "Faint Stir of Madness". The story doesn’t have much to do with the lyrics, but I like the feel of the music, and I can see Draco’s state of mind somewhat resembling the madness in the song. Prompter, I’m not sure if I captured everything you wanted, but I made a pretty good stab at it. I hope you enjoy! And finally THANKS to my beta Maureen who has been very patient waiting for this while I struggled through writers block and migraines! You are awesome!
A Faint Stir of Madness
Draco cradled the glass of... something... in his hands as he watched the writhing bodies on the dance floor. He didn't know why he came every week. Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he came here every week. Because, every Friday night, Harry Potter came here as well. And left with a different twink each time. Draco's gut twisted as he scanned the crowd, noting more than a few twinks who would be just Harry's type. Thin, lean bodies, pale skin, fresh young faces, blond hair. And there it was. Harry, dressed in a black sleeveless shirt, skinny black jeans, was sandwiched between two of those boys, grinding his cock into the arse of one, while the other was plastered to his back, lips dragging over Harry's neck. Draco wished the one behind would move, so he could take a gander at Harry’s perfectly formed arse in those jeans.
Fuck. He must be mad.
He threw back the drink, not even registering what it was, and slammed the glass back on the bar. He didn't even need to gesture to the bartender; a new full glass was placed in front of him, a pitying look in the bartender's eye.
"If you want him, go get him. Looks like you're his type."
Draco grimaced and quickly gulped down more alcohol. "I don't think so, mate. Believe me, I'm the last one he'd think of leaving with."
The bartender shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. "Sure about that? He's heading over here now."
A warm prickle moved up his spine and he knew Harry was bare inches behind him.
"Malfoy."
"Potter," he acknowledged, without turning around.
The next words made him nearly jump out of his skin. "Dance with me," hot breath whispered over his ear, far, far too close.
Draco gulped. "I don't need a pity fuck, Potter," he spat, still refusing to turn.
This time a warm body pressed up against his back, and there was no mistaking the bulge that pressed against his arse. "Who said anything about fucking? Dance with me." The voice brooked no argument.
A heavy warmth bloomed low in his torso, a slight tightening in his pants. The bartender nodded in encouragement, so Draco emptied his glass quickly and turned to face his nemesis. "Think you can handle me, Potter?" he asked, trying to inject some nonchalance into his voice and failing miserably.
Harry's green eyes sparked and his nostrils flared. "I can handle anything you throw at me, Malfoy." He pressed forward, placing a hand on either side of Draco, essentially pinning him to the bar. "Scared, Malfoy?" Harry asked, in an echo of their youthful sparring.
"You wish, Potter," Draco returned, the words barely a whisper as Harry moved forward, bringing their groins together.
"Dance with me." It was a command this time, and Draco was powerless to resist as Harry wrapped his fingers around his wrist and pulled him towards the dance floor. "I've seen you watching me. I want to see you dance with me." They found a space in the mass of dancers, and Harry placed his hands on Draco's hips and leaned close. "Move with me," he breathed in Draco's ear.
The pounding beat of the music started to seep into Draco's body, even as the awkwardness of the moment filled his mind. Harry moved smoothly to the rhythm, his thumbs drawing gentle circles on Draco's hips. A shiver travelled up Draco's spine; goosebumps broke out on his arms despite the heat and humidity in the club.
Harry pulled Draco's head closer. "Move with me," he repeated his earlier instruction, and tugged Draco's hips forward, bringing their bodies into full contact, chest to chest, hip to hip, knee to knee. Draco had no choice but to move with Harry now, and he allowed the music to take over. They danced together seamlessly, and soon Harry had his hands shoved in Draco's back pockets, pulling him closer still. Draco slung his arms over Harry's shoulders, one hand hanging loosely, while the other bravely curled around Harry's neck. His fingers slid into that black hair that he had fantasised about for years. It was deceptively soft, and soon both hands were sliding through the silky black strands.
A strange vibration against his chest alerted Draco to Harry's moan, and when Draco tugged lightly on the strands, Harry pressed his mouth into Draco's neck, licking a broad stripe up the side to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Draco gripped Harry's hair tighter, earning a hiss in his ear. Feeling the need to take more control over the situation, Draco stepped back, trying not to whimper as Harry's hands left his arse. He twirled the fingers of one hand, indicating Harry should turn around. Harry nodded and complied. Draco took a moment to appreciate Harry's arse, then hooked his fingers into Harry's belt loops and pulled him back so that he was pressed against Harry's back, and his groin flush against Harry's arse. His erection was getting uncomfortable, so he insinuated a hand between their bodies to adjust himself, and felt a chuckle from Harry as he registered what was happening.
This time it was Draco licking the back of Harry's neck, as Harry slid his hands back to hold Draco close. They moved against each other, lost in the music. Occasionally a twink would sidle up and try to press against Harry's front, but a harsh look from Draco quickly sent them running. He earned many a jealous look from the youngsters in the club, but Harry was oblivious, completely consumed by the beat and the movement of their bodies together.
Draco slid his hands around Harry's waist and dipped his fingers under his shirt, splaying his fingers over tight stomach muscles. Harry tipped his head back onto Draco’s shoulder and turned into his neck. His tongue sought out Draco’s earlobe, and he drew the soft flesh between his teeth, nipping gently. In retaliation, Draco slid his hands up to tweak Harry’s nipples.
Harry responded by pressing his arse back firmly against Draco's erection, then he stepped away. He turned and pressed his lips to Draco's, moving them sinuously together. A final light peck. "I'll see you next Friday, yeah?"
Draco was left standing on the dance floor, wondering what had just happened.
oOoOoOo
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of confusion for Draco. He felt like he was going a little more crazy with every moment. Pansy was unable to coax him into talking about what was bothering him. Blaise poured another drink when Draco refused to open up. At Sunday brunch Narcissa was beside herself, and Lucius just ignored him as usual.
Monday morning at the Ministry brought no further clarity, despite meeting Harry in the lift. They only exchanged cursory greetings, going their separate ways when Harry left the lift to go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
On Tuesday, a new illegal potions ring had been discovered, and Draco was the Unspeakable assigned to liaise with the Aurors investigating the case. Harry was professional, giving no indication that anything had happened on Friday night. Draco was at a loss, until he saw Harry give him a sly wink as he left the briefing room.
The remainder of the week passed in a similar manner. With usual efficiency, the Aurors investigated the illegal brewers, and after a successful undercover sting on Thursday, Gawain Robards, the Head of DMLE, gave the squad a day off, starting their weekend early.
Draco flounced into his office on Friday morning, frustrated at not being able to even say hello to Harry in the lift that morning. He was pleased at the success of the investigation, of course, and had received a commendation from Robards for his work in assisting the Aurors, but other than a few heated glances when no one else was watching, his interaction with Harry was minimal. All he could do was hope Harry would be at the club tonight as promised.
He was unable to achieve much that day, casting tempus charms with such frequency that even his boss asked him scathingly if he had somewhere more important to be. At three o'clock an inter-office memo glided into his office, settling neatly on his desk. He sat back in his chair and unfolded the parchment.
Don't forget the club tonight, H.
The few words set his blood simmering. As if he would forget. A combination of lust and indignation warred within him. He grabbed a clean piece of parchment and quickly scribbled a few lines with his quill. He tapped the parchment with his wand and watched as it folded smoothly and flew out of the room. He could only hope that Pansy would agree.
oOoOoOo
"I don't know why you asked me to dinner, Draco. You're not really here. What is with you lately?" Pansy demanded.
"Sorry, Pans, just have things on my mind."
"Was it because you had to work with Potter this week?" she asked, her voice softening.
"What?" Draco flushed. "No!" he exclaimed, terrified that she knew.
"If you say so," she replied. "I would have thought it would be awful. I know he spoke up for you at your trial, but he's still insufferable. I can’t ever open the Prophet without seeing his bespectacled face staring back at me."
Draco sighed with relief. He had heard these complaints from Pansy innumerable times. He was safe, she didn't know.
"Of course, the spread in Witch Weekly was something to behold, even if he is a half-blood."
A sip of wine caught in his throat. "Indeed," he choked out.
"And he does seem quite your type," Pansy said cryptically, an eyebrow raised.
"I wouldn't know," Draco replied gruffly. He looked at his Muggle watch, earning another raised eyebrow from his friend. "Thanks for dinner, Pans. I, um, have somewhere I need to be."
Pansy signalled the waiter. "Oh, I know, Draco. Off to that Muggle club again. Potter-watch?" She smiled predatorily at his guilty flush. "You think I didn't know, darling?"
Draco sagged. "Don't tell father. He'll have a fit. He'll probably disown me."
"Oh don't be dramatic, Draco. You know he can't disown you. His release from Azkaban was conditional that you took power of the estate."
"He would still do everything he could to make my life a living hell," Draco groaned.
"Pull yourself together, darling." Pansy stood from the table and gave Draco a hug. "Potter's not going to take home someone who looks as miserable as you do right now." She planted a kiss on his cheek, then gently wiped away the lipstick mark with her thumb. "Go, have fun. See if you can fuck him tonight and get this out of your system."
Draco returned the farewell kiss. "Thanks, Pans. See you at brunch on Sunday?"
"Of course! You know I'd never miss brunch with you and your mother!" She strode out of the restaurant, hips swinging in an alluring way. Draco watched her departure, wishing his desires lay with her, instead of a green-eyed, dark haired man.
oOoOoOo
It was nearly a quarter past eleven when Draco finally entered the club. He scanned the crowd, looking for Harry's unruly mop of hair, and a sinking feeling hit his gut when Harry was nowhere to be seen. He approached the bar and ordered a drink; he wanted to give it a few minutes at least.
By the time his second drink was almost empty he had given up hope. This was insanity. The usual crowd was here, but there was no sign of Harry. One final swallow and he turned to the bartender, passing over some money.
"Not leaving already, are you?" a sultry voice purred in his ear, fingers tracing lightly down his sides.
Draco paused for a moment, willing down the surge of relief and schooling his features into a mask of nonchalance. "I was thinking about it," he said lightly, turning to meet Harry's bright green gaze. "I might be persuaded to stay."
Harry chuckled and indicated to the bartender for two more drinks. "Have a drink with me, then we'll dance." It was not a request. Draco bristled a little at Harry’s presumption, but forced himself to relax when Harry passed another glass into his hand and clinked his own against it. "Cheers," Harry said, lifting the glass to his mouth and taking a deep swallow. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Harry's neck; he watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He flicked his gaze up to Harry's mouth and was mesmerised when his tongue emerged to lick a drop that threatened to fall from his lips. Draco swallowed, and flushed when Harry raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with your drink, Malfoy?"
"No," he said gruffly, raising his own glass, the cool liquid soothing his suddenly dry mouth. He threw the drink back in three long swallows, the rush of alcohol making his head spin for a moment. "Dance with me," he commanded, wanting to be in control for once.
Harry held up a finger. "Let me finish this." He took his time finishing his own drink, sipping slowly, a self-assured confidence oozing out of him as Draco tried to wait patiently. He was not used to someone else calling the shots. Eventually Harry tipped back his glass for the last time, and lowered it to the bar. "You're eager tonight," he smirked.
Draco grunted, hooked the fingers of one hand in Harry's belt loops and pulled him toward the dance floor. He wanted to wipe that self-satisfied look right off Harry's face, so he quickly situated Harry in front of him, pulling Harry's arse back into his hips. Soon the beat took over, and they were undulating against each other, as if the intervening week had never happened.
As had happened the previous week, various twinks tried to get in on the action, but Harry and Draco had no time for anyone but each other. They danced through several songs, their movements slowly devolving into something that could only be described as clothed fucking. Harry was facing Draco now, his arms slung over Draco's shoulders, Draco's hands clasping his arse and pulling their hips flush together. Their groins thrust against each other, creating a delicious friction that was at the same time too much and not enough. This time Harry allowed Draco to kiss him, tongues sliding, stroking, lips pulling and sucking, teeth nipping gently. Draco leaned down to lick a line of perspiration running down the side of Harry's neck. He groaned as his mouth was flooded with salt and musk that was overwhelmingly Harry.
The pressure inside Draco's pants was intense, the ache low in his groin almost unbearable. "Back room, please," he pleaded.
Harry slid his hands down Draco's back and grasped his arse, pulling their erections together in a particularly hard thrust. He plunged his tongue deep into Draco's mouth, kissing him hard, almost so hard it hurt, then pulled away. "Next week, maybe," he said, patting Draco gently on the cheek. "This time, don't be late!" He turned and made his way through the crowd towards the exit, stopping only for a moment to turn and wink at Draco.
Again, Draco was left standing in the middle of a mass of writhing bodies, wondering what the hell had just happened.
oOoOoOo
The following three Friday nights followed in a similar pattern, with the exception of Draco arriving at the Muggle club "on time" according to Harry. They would share a drink, and quickly make their way onto the dance floor, losing themselves in each other for hours at a time. The regulars in the club learnt that it was useless to try and draw Harry’s or Draco’s attention away from the other, and would watch with amusement as newcomers tried to move in on the action.
The other thing that didn’t change was Draco being left alone, bewildered and extremely hard on the dance floor. Each week he would try and pull away first, try and be the one that left Harry alone, but Harry just kept drawing him in, tempting him with kisses and caresses that gave Draco just enough hope to come back for more.
On the last night, Draco decided enough was enough. He felt like he was going mad. After he went to bed following a rather unsatisfying wank, he promised himself no more. He sulked all day on Saturday, acting very unlike a Malfoy, spending the day lounging around in his pyjamas and eating copious amounts of ice-cream. He allowed himself the one day to wallow, and arrived at Malfoy Manor on Sunday morning bright and early for regular Sunday brunch with Lucius, Narcissa and Pansy.
He thought he had convinced them that everything was fine until Lucius took his leave, mumbling something about "leaving the women to gossip," which earned him a stinging hex from his wife as he exited the sunroom. As soon as the door had snicked shut, Narcissa was on Draco in a flash.
"Darling, you look positively dreadful!" she lamented, while Pansy summoned one of the Manor elves to bring an Invigoration Draught.
"Mother! I’m perfectly fine," he insisted, trying to brush her off, but once Pansy was pressing the vial into his hand, he realised it was wiser to just go with it. He lifted the vial to his lips and swallowed the concoction, hoping to appease the fussing women. Narcissa continued to flutter about, while Pansy stepped back and cast a critical eye over her friend.
"Draco, is it Potter?"
Narcissa looked back and forth between Draco and Pansy, confusion on her face. "Potter? Harry Potter? What would he have to do with Draco?"
"Nothing, Mother," he tried to insist, but could see immediately that she would not be dissuaded.
"Pansy, do be a dear and tell me what is going on!" she exclaimed, before taking a deep breath and settling herself again. "Draco," she began again, calmer, but with a thread of steel in her voice. "What is this business about Mr. Potter?"
He looked at Pansy pleadingly, despite knowing his friend would do nothing to rescue him from an inquisition now. He sighed. "Mother, I’ve been seeing Potter, a little." He took another big breath. "For about four weeks." His words were met with silence as Narcissa observed him with a calculating look. As the silence continued, he began to wonder if a Calming Draught would not have been a better idea, for both himself and his mother.
Eventually Narcissa looked away, a thin furrow between her brows. To an outsider she merely looked a little pensive, but to those who knew her, the tell-tale signs of fingers twisting in her lap, a slight twitch in her jaw, betrayed the tension in her body.
Pansy stepped up to Narcissa and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Aunt Cissy, we talked about this," she said softly.
Draco looked at Pansy in horror, and was about to berate his friend for her betrayal when Narcissa’s face cleared and she pinned her son with a single look.
"Draco," she paused. "My Dragon," she began again, more softly. "I had thought you would grow out of this infatuation, but even I cannot fail to see that Mr. Potter has grown into an exceptional wizard. You would do well to make a match with him," she finished with a note of acceptance.
He could do nothing but gape at his mother in amazement. He had never dreamed he would confess his attraction to Harry, or disclose any liaisons he might eventually achieve. Narcissa’s obvious acceptance and possible approval wasn’t something he had imagined in his wildest dreams.
"Oh, do close your mouth, darling, you’ll catch flies," Narcissa admonished, and Pansy snickered quietly in the background.
Draco closed his mouth and sat back. He opened it again to speak but couldn’t find the words, so he closed it again and flushed as Pansy laughed quietly again. "Draco, darling, do you seriously think Aunt Cissy wouldn’t have known about your obsession with the Golden Boy?" she asked.
"Draco, my son. The wizarding world has changed. We have changed. If Mr. Potter is the one who will make you happy, I will not stand in your way. And I will ensure your father does not stand in your way, either," Narcissa said gently. "Will he make you happy?" she questioned, her blue eyes piercing.
This time Draco’s silence was deliberate. He chose his words carefully. "I don’t know, Mother. He has proven… difficult… to pursue."
Pansy raised a knowing eyebrow but said nothing. Narcissa considered her son’s words for a moment and then spoke. "Have you considered all avenues?" she asked carefully. "I know you, Draco. You will often perceive only the obvious path, but there is more than one way to tame a lion."
A flicker sparked in Draco’s grey eyes. It was true, he often didn’t think of the bigger picture, pursuing only one avenue to achieve his goals. It was something he had learned after the war, but a lesson that he failed to remember. "Pansy, are you still friends with Granger?"
Narcissa looked at her son in approval. Pansy smirked back at Draco, glad to have her friend’s cunning side make a reappearance. "Why yes, I am friends with Granger," she returned with a hint of glee.
"Excellent!" Draco declared. "I think perhaps you should ask her out for a drink tonight."
oOoOoOo
Draco paced in his office. He had been pacing all day. He had been pacing all week.
After brunch on Sunday, Pansy had dashed off an owl to Hermione requesting afternoon tea in Diagon Alley. Much to Draco’s consternation, Hermione had been busy with her family all day, and would not be able to meet with them until Thursday evening, leading to Draco’s current predicament.
His boss had given up asking Draco what the matter was. Even Blaise, who often snuck into the Department of Mysteries, despite numerous warnings from the security staff on Level Nine and from Personnel, was avoiding his friend.
Draco ceased his pacing for a moment, just long enough to frown at the shimmering clock that appeared at the end of his wand. Before the image faded he had resumed his path. Eight steps from desk to the far wall, turn thirty-seven degrees, ten steps to the charmed "window", turn another fifty-three degrees, six steps to his desk and start over.
He was so caught up in his pacing and introspection, that Pansy was able to stand and watch the action for five minutes before she got tired of waiting and rapped loudly on the open door, startling him out of his reverie.
"Pansy!" he exclaimed. He brushed his hands over himself to straighten his already immaculate robes.
She strode over to her friend and gave him an air-kiss on each cheek. "Draco, darling, don’t pace. It’s unbecoming of a Malfoy."
"This whole endeavour is unbecoming of a Malfoy," he stated, mimicking her tone. "Is it finally time to go?"
Pansy chuckled, "Yes, Draco, it’s time to go."
Draco quickly gathered his satchel, making sure he had everything from his office that he needed, and ushered Pansy out into the hallway. He still wasn’t quite sure how she managed to make it as far as his office without being confronted by security, but then there were many mysterious things about Pansy he couldn’t explain.
When they crossed paths with Harry in the Atrium, Draco was torn between wanting to ignore the man completely, and wanting to grab his arse cheeks and squeeze them. Pansy’s restraining hand on his arm reminded him to behave himself, and he restricted himself to a nod in greeting as they made their way to the line of Floo points.
Draco stepped out of the Floo at The Wood Nymph Tea Rooms and followed Pansy to a private booth after she finished a brief conversation with the hostess.
"Hermione!" Pansy exclaimed as she greeted her friend. Draco stood back, a little unsure about how he would be received by his former intellectual rival. He soon realised there was nothing to worry about when Hermione offered her hand to Draco in greeting.
"Draco, it’s lovely to see you again," she smiled softly.
"Likewise," he returned, lifting her hand to his lips. She blushed a little and took her seat at the table again.
"Please, sit," she insisted. Draco and Pansy took their places in the booth, both sitting opposite Hermione.
"So, Hermione, you’re probably wondering why I have Draco here with me," Pansy started, deciding to get right to the point.
Hermione gave a wry grin. "Actually, Pansy, I think I know exactly why Draco is here with you. If your best friend is being as annoying as my best friend, this meeting is precisely what we need."
Draco gaped at Hermione for a moment, and then quickly shut his mouth when he remembered his manners.
"Quite," Pansy said bluntly. "Draco is desperate to get a piece of Harry’s arse, and Harry is being, to put it bluntly, a complete and utter cock-tease."
"Pansy!" Draco admonished. "Hermione, you must forgive Pansy her…"
"It’s perfectly fine, Draco," Hermione interrupted. "I’m well aware of Harry’s bad behaviour, and I’ve warned him that he risks scaring you away before he even gets a chance at getting together with you."
Draco’s mouth opened and closed several times, and he only ceased the action when Pansy nudged him and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like "goldfish".
"Am I correct to assume that Harry’s attentions are not unwelcome?" Hermione asked.
He was still unable to form words, so he settled with a nod.
Hermione studied him for a few moments. "Pansy, you said Draco wanted a piece of Harry’s arse. Draco, I need to know that you’re not just in it for a quick shag. Harry doesn’t do flings well, despite what he might believe. I will not help you if you’re just out to use him."
At this, Draco flushed and looked down at his hands. Silence settled over the three of them as he took a minute to gather his thoughts, wanting to phrase his words correctly. "Hermione, I’ll be honest and say that there was a time when yes, a fling was the only thing on my mind, but despite his hot and cold behaviour of recent weeks, I’ve realised that I do want something more. I can’t promise it will last forever, but I’m not just seeking a quick shag, as you put it." He took a deep breath and held it, waiting for her response.
"Darling, you’ve been in love with him for years, and you know it," Pansy interjected. "Hermione, he has, even though his actions may not have reflected that. I think he’s only just recognised his feelings for what they are recently, but as his friend, I can vouch for him. He’s in this for the long haul. It might start with a quick shag, though," she snickered. "As many as he can get for as long as Harry’s willing, I expect!"
Hermione giggled for a moment, before turning back to Draco. "I hope you mean what you said, because I will come after you if you hurt Harry. Having said that, if he fucks this up on his own, it’s his problem. Right, here’s what you need to do…"
oOoOoOo
The morning after meeting with Hermione, Draco stepped into the Ministry atrium with a new level of confidence, her advice ringing in his ears.
He nodded his usual greeting to Harry in the lift as he moved to him. As others entered the lift Harry and Draco were shuffled to the back. Draco took advantage of this and cupped Harry's arse, giving it a light squeeze. He was impressed that Harry barely twitched.
"See you tonight," Harry whispered as he passed, making sure to brush his hip against Draco’s groin as he made his way through the crowd when the lift reached level two.
Draco clenched his fists as the door closed and the lift descended further. He would not rise to Harry’s taunts, Hermione had described his tactics. He would win, he would win tonight.
He had lunch with Pansy, grateful that his friend worked to boost his confidence and talk strategy.
"Draco, you are a Malfoy, you never let anything defeat you. If you’re not going to match with a pureblood, you could do worse than Potter."
Draco left work early that day, making his way to his flat at half past three. Tonight he was going to pull out all the stops. Tonight Harry was going to let Draco take control.
He selected his tightest jeans, and a black mesh sleeveless shirt. He spent even longer than usual in front of the mirror fixing his hair. After he ran his hand over his jaw, he decided against shaving. The lightly stubbled look added a faint shadow to his face, making him look a little more rugged than his perfectly put together Malfoy facade.
At ten past nine, he strode into the Muggle club, well in advance of his usual arrival time. A few words to the bartender, and a stiff drink for Dutch courage, and he was on the dance floor, this time alone. The crowd was fairly thin, it being very early for a Friday night, but soon some of the regulars noticed Draco's lack of a dance partner, and moved in for the kill. Draco enjoyed their attention, and moved easily from one to another, dancing long enough to hold their interest, but not too long to scare off other potential partners. The entire time, however, he kept an eye on the entrance to the club, looking out for that face he would recognise anywhere.
Finally, at ten past eleven, Harry walked in, wearing sinfully tight leather pants and a deep red silk button down shirt, which was open almost to his navel. Draco quickly arranged his body so that his back was facing the door. He moved in closer to his current dance partner, but flung his head back, making sure his white blond hair was visible to Harry. Despite the warm body moving against his groin, all he could feel was awareness of Harry's nearness. Draco's hair rose at the back of his neck, goosebumps formed on his arms. It was almost as if he could feel Harry's approach, feel Harry's irritation. The prickle of heat against his back was the only warning before he heard one word growled in his ear.
"Mine!"
Draco shuddered as he felt Harry slide his hands around his middle, pulling him away from the twink he was dancing with. He quickly regained his composure, not wanting Harry to know quite how much that one word had set his veins alight with lust. He turned and faced Harry, and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away.
"Potter. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys belong to no one." He tried not to smirk at the look of sheer aggravation on Harry's face. "If you want me, Potter, you'll have to convince me you do. You've been leaving me on the dance floor far too often, I'm beginning to think you just want to string me along." With that, he returned to his previous dance partner, who looked like he wanted to flee at the expression on Harry's face.
Draco turned himself and his dance partner so he could watch as Harry stormed off the dance floor and pushed through the crowd at the bar. Harry didn't even need to ask, a drink was pushed into his hand by the bartender within seconds. The bartender spoke a few words to Harry, who grimaced in response, guilt flashing over his face as he gulped down the drink. The bartender took the empty glass from him and pushed away the money Harry had put down.
Soon the twink he was dancing with lost interest, realising that Draco's attention was elsewhere. Draco continued dancing, on his own, pulling out all his best moves. While he never looked directly at Harry, he was constantly aware of where he was at any given moment, and was fully prepared when Harry grabbed him on the dance floor a second time.
Draco gave Harry a hard look. "If you only want to dance with me, Potter, walk away. Tonight if you stay and dance, you stay." He felt a frisson of power when he saw Harry swallow. "Will you stay? If you won't, I'll leave now. And I won't be back."
Harry stood motionless for a moment, his eyes flickering in the club lights. He suddenly surged forward, wrapped a hand around Draco's neck and pulled him in for a harsh, brutal kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues surged, bodies collided. When he pulled back, Draco was gasping for air. "I'll stay." Draco couldn't hear the words over the pounding of blood in his ears, but the movement of Harry's lips was easy to understand. "I'll stay. Or if you go, I'll come with you." This time Draco heard every word. He pulled Harry back to him and resumed the kiss, this time only slightly softer. Their bodies slipped easily into the rhythm of the music, and Harry slid one thigh between Draco's. They each pressed their erections into the others' hip. Soon hands were sliding up and down backs, underneath shirts, into hair. Their clothing quickly became damp with perspiration. Draco's hands slid down Harry's back to grab his arse, squeezing hard, feeling the resilience of the firm flesh.
A loud wolf-whistle broke through the haze of lust and want and they drew apart. Draco cast a wry grin at the bartender, and whispered into Harry's ear, "I'm leaving. The question is, are we going to your place or mine?"
"Mine," Harry groaned.
"Lead the way then," Draco said, giving Harry a gentle push to the door. He gave the bartender a quick salute as the left the club.
As they walked to a nearby Apparition point, Draco started to develop a case of nerves. This was something he had always wanted, but he wasn't sure how to proceed. He didn't even know if Harry was a bottom or top. And Draco didn't bottom. Ever.
"Harry," he said, pulling the other man to a stop. "Before we go, I need to know..."
Harry looked at him, knowingly. "I can switch. But I prefer to bottom. If that's what you're worried about."
Draco sagged in relief. "Thanks."
"But," Harry continued, "I like to control, from the bottom. If you get my meaning."
A look of bewilderment passed over Draco's face for a moment, his brow furrowed, until the light of comprehension dawned on his face. He gaped and Harry chuckled quietly.
"I have no problem with that," Draco said huskily, "as long as I get my turn to be in control."
Harry grinned. "I think that can be arranged. Are you coming?" He tugged at Draco’s hand.
"Oh, definitely. More than once, if I have anything to say about it."
oOoOoOo
"Kneel, hands behind your back. No touching. No speaking."
Draco's pulse quickened as he obeyed the instructions. He threaded his fingers together, doing what he could to resist the temptation to reach out. His fingers itched with desire for contact.
The red silk shirt floated to the floor, revealing a muscled back and shoulders. Thumbs hooked into the leather waistband, slowly drawing the trousers over perfectly formed cheeks. No pants, commando. Draco's mouth went dry. He swayed forward, almost losing his balance.
Green eyes peered over a pale shoulder. "Don't move."
Draco nodded and licked his lips.
"Soon."
The leather trousers were drawn down, fully exposing pale skin, taut over the finest arse Draco had ever seen. Two perfect dimples rested just above the swell of those amazing cheeks. Draco's fingers twitched, something else twitched too, but he didn't break his position.
The leather was finally pulled down lean legs, lightly dusted with fine black hairs. Firmly muscled thighs narrowed down to tightly corded calves, the hairs becoming darker and thicker before ceasing at surprisingly elegant ankles. The leather trousers were kicked aside.
Harry turned around, and Draco almost felt a pang of loss as the sight of Harry's arse was hidden from him. "Patience, you'll get what you want soon."
Draco tried to reign in the urge to just move in and take what he wanted. Harry would probably let him, but something told him it would be so much better if he worked for it the way Harry wanted him to. Instead he feasted his eyes on the newly exposed flesh. Harry’s frame was lean and wiry, his chest only sporting a little dark hair in the centre and around pert, pink nipples. Just below his ribs a thicker swirl of hair led down past his navel, his lightly muscled abdomen narrowed into a perfectly formed V at his hips. Draco’s eyes were drawn down to an impressive erection, standing proud from a nest of dark curls at his groin. The skin was flushed pink, drawn tight over firm flesh. The head mushroomed perfectly from the shaft, a darker pink, a bead of precum formed at the tip.
Harry stepped closer to Draco. He trailed his fingers through the silky blonde hair. "I've wanted you for a long time, Draco. Now that moment is finally here, I want it to last."
Draco swallowed. Harry's arousal was bare inches from his lips. If he swayed forward but a little, he could taste that clear fluid welling forth from the slit. Now his mouth watered.
As if reading Draco's mind, Harry's hand slid down to his jaw and turned his head. "Open, tongue out." Draco did as instructed, and his heart nearly burst out of his chest as he got that first taste. Harry grasped his own cock at the base, and allowed just the tip to brush across Draco's tongue, leaving a trail of precum on Draco's tastebuds. He gave in, leaning forward to get another taste. Harry allowed it for a moment, and then pulled back. "I said, don’t move."
Draco’s lips quirked at the command but he returned to his original position, bowing his head and peering up through lowered dark blonde lashes.
"If you want my arse, Draco, you need to do as I say. Let’s try again, shall we?" Harry smirked as he again positioned Draco’s mouth near his cock. "Open, tongue out. Don’t move any more than that."
Again, Draco felt that hot, silky skin brush across his tongue. Another burst of that salty, bitter liquid hit his tastebuds. This time he fought the urge to lean in and capture that reddened, swollen head in his mouth. He would have to trust Harry to let him have more when he was ready. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
"Open wider, no teeth. Suck me," Harry commanded huskily. Draco complied readily, eager to explore the impressive specimen before him. He felt Harry’s fingers wind into his hair, tugging firmly on the strands as he pulled Draco’s mouth onto his hot prick.
Draco took care to cover his teeth with his lips, opening his jaw and relaxing his throat. He held position, allowing Harry to set the pace, but curled his tongue to map out the soft silky skin, stretched tight over Harry’s formidable length. He could feel each ridge and vein as Harry thrust smoothly in and out of his mouth.
He peered up through dark blonde lashes to look at Harry's face. His lips were parted, eyes closed, head tilted back ever so slightly. On the next pass of Harry's cock into Draco's throat, he swallowed, and hollowed his cheeks as Harry pulled back. A guttural moan was torn from Harry's mouth as the sensations overloaded him. Draco hummed, pleased at the response he was eliciting from his lover. He repeated the actions on Harry's next thrust, using his tongue to stroke the underside of Harry's prick. When just the head was in his mouth, Draco took a chance, and dragged the tip of his tongue around the head, paying special attention to the frenulum. He felt Harry's cock twitch, and swell just a little.
Harry's fingers tightened in Draco's hair, and he pushed Draco back a few inches. Draco whimpered at the loss of that amazing flesh in his mouth. "I want you to stroke my balls. Just one hand. Keep sucking, but don't make me come. Not just yet," he requested breathlessly.
Draco nodded, already anticipating the amazing taste of Harry's prick. He brought up his left hand, cupping Harry's sack and gently rolling the nuts with his fingers. Harry positioned the head of his cock on Draco's tongue again, replacing his hands on his head and thrusting slowly again. Encouraged, Draco continued worshipping Harry's prick with his tongue and throat, being sure to keep the caresses random so that Harry wouldn't get too worked up. Long elegant fingers were massaging one nut, then the other, then they strayed further back to press on that sensitive flesh behind Harry's balls. Harry grunted, trying to hold back from spilling himself down Draco's throat. When the sensations became too much, he pulled away again, and had to squeeze the base of his erection to try and suppress the orgasm that threatened.
"You certainly know what to do with that mouth of yours," he said gruffly. "I think that maybe you've earned it now."
Draco nearly sagged with relief. "Can..." he gulped. "Can I speak?"
Harry laughed breathlessly. "Yes, Draco. You can speak. I'm surprised you stayed quiet."
"I thought you would stop, you would make me leave," he said as he blushed.
Reaching out to stroke the blonde's cheek, Harry's face softened. "No. I meant it, what I said before. I've waited a long time for this. I supposed I just wanted to know how much you wanted it."
Draco swallowed. "Oh, I want it. I want you. I've wanted you forever, since I first saw your arse close-up in Quidditch leathers."
Harry smiled. "Show me? Show me how much you want me?"
A few seconds passed in silence as Draco processed the words. Suddenly Draco lurched to his feet and grabbed Harry around the waist. A moment later Harry found himself lying on his stomach on the bed; Draco’s hands grasped his hips, pulling him up onto his knees til Harry’s arse was raised. He felt Draco’s shuddering breath ghost over his skin.
Draco took in the amazing sight before him. Harry, arse high in the air, just begging to be ravished. He didn’t know where to start. He ran his hands down Harry’s back, pausing over his cheeks, and pressed his fingers into the warm, firm flesh. Harry moaned. Draco’s eyes closed as he took in the sensation of having Harry’s arse under his fingers. He opened his eyes again, and slipped his thumbs between the cheeks, pulling them apart slightly to feast his eyes on that puckered flesh. Harry quivered, but held position.
A surge of lust flooded Draco’s aroused body when he saw that tight ring flutter under his gaze. He brought one hand to his mouth, wetting his right thumb before he brought it back to Harry’s hole, gently circling the flesh and putting just a little pressure, not enough to breach, but enough to make Harry groan again. He brought his left hand to his own trousers, adjusting his erection and palming his cock briefly.
"Please, Draco, just do something," Harry pleaded.
Draco chuckled, then leaned down and dragged his tongue in a path down Harry’s spine, diverting to the left just above his tailbone. He paused a moment, and sank his teeth into the flesh just below the left dimple, then laved the slightly reddened skin to sooth the mark. "Ungh, Harry," he moaned. "Your arse is truly perfect." He dove in a second time with his tongue, this time licking a stripe along the crease just under his arse cheek into the juncture of his thighs.
Harry squirmed. "Please, Draco, I need more!"
"Patience, Harry. You made me wait, you teased me for weeks! Now it’s your turn," Draco whispered, just before he dragged his tongue between Harry’s cheeks from behind his balls, past his hole and up to his spine.
"Merlin!" Harry cried. "Do that again!"
"What?" Draco asked innocently. "This?" He repeated the caress with his tongue.
Another groan was wrenched from Harry's mouth. His upper body collapsed onto the bed, his arms sliding out to each side, fingers clenching the sheets. Draco smiled and buried his face between Harry's cheeks, inhaling Harry's musky scent. He dragged the tip of his tongue lightly around the puckered skin and drew back, watching the ring of muscle flutter at the loss of contact.
"Ungh, you taste incredible, Harry. Even better than I thought you would."
Harry answered with a groan, and wriggled his arse in Draco’s face. "More!"
Draco chuckled, lifted his right hand, and brought it down lightly on Harry’s left cheek. Harry grunted. Redness blossomed on the skin, and Draco leaned in to lave the area with his tongue, soothing the red mark, drawing a whimper from the man beneath him. Harry shifted on the bed, moving a hand down to fist himself, anything to relieve the pressure that was building in his balls.
"Oh, no you don’t, Harry. You keep those hands by your head." He gave Harry’s other arse cheek a firmer slap and watched as a faint imprint of his hand appeared. He slapped it again, watching the flesh move with the force of his hand, then leaned in to lick that side, blowing gently on the wet skin to soothe the burn.
"Spread your legs, but keep your arse up," Draco commanded, shifting away from Harry to remove his own clothes.
Harry complied, and turned his head to watch the palest smooth skin being revealed inch by inch. His eyelids grew heavy as he took in the perfection before him, then closed as he felt Draco move in behind him again.
A moment later, a hot wet mouth enveloped both his balls, while short fingernails dragged gently down his arse cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He could not hold back the cry that was torn from his throat at the dual sensation. Draco chuckled, causing a delicious vibration around his scrotum, his tongue gently rolling the eggs in his mouth, though it had to be a tight fit.
Draco wriggled further under Harry and took the tip of his leaking prick into his mouth, lapping at the slit and tasting him again. "Merlin, Harry, I could suck you all day." Harry groaned and thrust into Draco’s mouth.
"Fuck, Draco, suck me, please!"
Draco grasped Harry’s cheeks with his fingers and pulled them apart, using his middle fingers to trace the skin around Harry’s hole, while he lifted his head and swallowed as much of Harry’s cock as he could. He felt Harry’s cock twitch as it hit the back of his throat and he could see Harry’s balls pulling up tighter. Draco pulled back and took a breath, hollowing his cheeks as he withdrew, then plunged back down to the root again, and swallowed around the head. At the same time he gently pressed the tip of one finger into Harry’s hole, and brought the thumb of his other hand to press behind his balls. His tongue stroked the underside of Harry’s prick, one, two, three times and then he was rewarded by pulses of bitter salty fluid hitting the back of his throat. Harry convulsed with each spurt, and Draco had to withdraw just a little to be able to swallow, but continue massaging the twitching prick in his mouth.
"Oh fuck! Draco," Harry gasped. "Fuck, oh Merlin, fuck, amazing," he gibbered.
Draco gave Harry’s prick one last gentle suck, curled his tongue around the head to clean him off, then shuffled out from under Harry. He flipped Harry over and laid down on top of him, sealing their mouths together. Harry groaned as he tasted himself mixed with Draco’s unique flavour. Their tongues stroked languidly, twining, sliding against each other and withdrawing, only to meet and repeat the motions. Eventually Harry had to pull back for air, his head hitting the pillow as he dragged oxygen into his lungs.
"Fuck, Draco, that was amazing."
Draco looked down at the green-eyed man and waggled his eyebrows. "I’m just getting started!"
Harry whimpered and then sighed as Draco’s lips returned to his own. The kiss was softer, gentler, and Harry felt his heart rate slow. Draco’s fingers carded through black hair and goosebumps formed on his arms. His hardness pressed into Harry’s hip and Draco groaned at the sensation.
Harry reached down between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Draco’s erection, eliciting a hiss from the man on top of him. Draco thrust into Harry’s grip, his eyes fluttering closed as Harry squeezed gently. "Wait, wait!" He pulled away, heavy breaths gusting over Harry’s face. "I’m not done with you yet." He reached down and grasped the base of his cock, squeezing just hard enough to halt the rush of sensation. "Do you trust me?"
Green eyes blinked at him as Harry considered the question. "Yes," he whispered shakily.
Draco gave Harry a brilliant smile, with just a hint of mischief. "Roll over, on your stomach," he requested softly. "Grab the bars." Harry did as he asked, wrapping his fingers around the wrought iron bedframe. He shivered when Draco grabbed his wand and whispered an incantation. Soft silk ropes appeared around his wrists, binding him. Draco reached around and arranged the pillow beneath Harry’s head so he was comfortable. He placed another pillow beneath Harry’s hips. He trailed his fingers softly down Harry’s back, over the taut globes of his arse and down his thighs, watching as the muscles shifted and rippled under the caress. "So beautiful," he whispered.
He trailed his fingers back up Harry’s legs, allowing them to slip between and brush the crease where his thighs met his arse. Cupping each cheek in his hands, he squeezed the flesh again, and wondered just how anyone could look as perfect as the man underneath him. Harry moaned at the sensation of having his skin caressed and stroked, he nuzzled down into the pillow and just enjoyed Draco’s attentions.
There was silence in the room, save for breathy moans, the occasional gasp, and the whisper of skin on skin. Draco lavished attention on Harry's body. While he focused mainly on the prize, the rest of Harry's body wasn't left out, with random caresses, kisses and licks. Harry never knew quite where the next caress would land, but Draco always returned to Harry's arse, the touches becoming more and more intimate.
Harry felt bereft when Draco suddenly moved away. The absence of contact was palpable, and though it was only moments before Draco returned to him, the time stretched uncomfortably. He hadn't realised he had whimpered until Draco brushed a kiss on his shoulder. "Shhh... I'm still here," he reassured. "I'm going to fuck you now. Are you ready for that?"
Harry drew in a quick, deep breath. "Yes, yes, please Draco, I need to feel you." Draco's face moved down to his, and Harry strained his neck to allow their lips to meet. The moist gust of air on his face made him shiver, despite the heat emanating from them both.
Draco trailed his fingers down Harry's back once more, before Harry heard a jar being opened. Draco used his left hand to part Harry's cheeks, and trailed his right forefinger around the puckered opening, leaving a trail of oil on the pink furled skin. He felt a surge of arousal as the ring clenched and fluttered, and took that moment to breach the opening with his finger. Harry moaned softly at the intrusion and lifted his hips to try and draw Draco in further.
"Patience, Harry, I want this to last." He chuckled at Harry's grunt of frustration, and rewarded him by sliding his finger further into the tight passage. Sliding in and out, he twisted his wrist and curled his finger, just lightly brushing that secret spot and making Harry whimper. Harry whimpered louder when the finger was removed, until he felt the pressure of a second finger being added. He huffed when the intrusion caused a slight burn and stretch, pushing down to ease the entry. Draco's mouth watered as he saw his fingers being swallowed by Harry's tight hole. A shudder passed through him when he realised soon that would be his cock, sinking into that hot, tight flesh. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath, trying to slow the rush of sensation to his groin.
Soon Harry was rocking against Draco's hand, as his fingers scissored and stretched, this time applying firmer pressure when they found Harry's prostate. A third finger was introduced and Harry began to moan almost incoherently. "Please, Draco, fuck me now, I need..." he gasped as the fingers were withdrawn. "I need you now!" he commanded, feeling slightly mortified when the demand came out more like a whine.
Draco opened the jar again, and coated his cock with the oil, trying to keep the touch as light as possible. He was so tightly strung he was afraid he would come the moment he was inside Harry. He pulled Harry's legs apart, and placed his own knees on the outside of Harry's thighs, took a deep breath and leaned forward, lining himself up with Harry's hole.
"Ready?" he whispered, placing one hand next to Harry's ribcage.
"Ready!" Harry exclaimed. "Get inside me already!" he demanded.
Draco chuckled and pressed forward, using the other hand to guide himself inside his lover. The pressure was intense, the heat overwhelming. He watched his cock sink slowly into that amazing arse, and he wished he was flexible enough to bend down and bite the flesh while he fucked him into the mattress. Resting his weight on his hands, either side of his lover, he sank all the way in, until he could feel his balls resting on Harry’s. They both moaned as their bodies came together in the intimate embrace. Draco had to pause, he could feel his orgasm threatening and when Harry clenched his arse, he had to bite his lip to stop from coming right then.
"Give me a second," he gasped, praying Harry would give him the time he needed to allow the arousal to ebb. A few moments later, he drew back a fraction, relieved when the motion didn’t trigger his orgasm. He lay down so his chest was flush with Harry’s back and slipped his hands underneath to grasp his shoulders for leverage. "Hold on tight," he whispered, and began a smooth rhythm, withdrawing almost completely, pausing a moment, and then plunging back in a steady stroke. Sweat began to pool between their bodies, making their skin slick, sliding against each other deliciously with each move. Harry’s moans became grunts as Draco’s movements became sharper, faster. The smooth roll of hips turned into a snapping motion. The quieter sounds were soon drowned out by the filthy sound of bodies slapping against each other.
Draco pulled one hand down to grasp Harry’s erection but was stopped by Harry’s muttered "No! Almost there, don’t stop!" Instead he shifted angles, trying to find that trigger, that spot he knew would make Harry come. He was soon rewarded by a harsh cry of "There! Right there! Don’t stop, please!" Harry was almost sobbing with need. Draco clenched his jaw, doing his best to strike Harry’s prostate with every pass, trying to hold back the tide of pleasure that would pull him apart. Suddenly Harry froze, his muscles clenching almost painfully around Draco’s cock, and then he was convulsing beneath Draco, thrusting into the pillow beneath him and then arching his hips back up as if to try and pull Draco deeper in. The muscle spasms pulled Draco over the edge, and he released a hoarse cry as his release rushed over him. He held Harry close, burying his cock as deep as possible as the waves of pleasure eclipsed them both.
Draco did not know how long they lay there, wrapped up in each other, panting as they came down from their highs. It was only a breeze over cooling damp skin that made him shift and move away from Harry. They both whimpered at the loss of contact as he withdrew his softening prick. He slithered down Harry’s body and kissed each dimple above his arse, gently stroking the globes with his hands. Draco looked around and spied what he hoped was the door to the bathroom. "I’ll be right back," he whispered, brushing a kiss over Harry’s neck.
Moments later he returned with a warm, wet washcloth, and gently cleaned his lover. He released Harry from his bonds manually, and when he had rolled over, Draco cleaned Harry’s front with soothing strokes. He dropped the washcloth on the floor and took Harry’s hands in his and massaged them gently, rubbing away the slight indentations left by the ropes. Their eyes met and they sat quietly while Draco stroked Harry’s wrists. Words seemed to flow between them in the silence, words of challenge and acceptance, words of question and answer. Neither knew what would happen now, but they both seemed happy to just enjoy the moment.
Finally Harry whispered one word. "Stay?"
Draco studied Harry for a few seconds, seeming to search for something. A moment later, he whispered one word in return. "Yes." He gathered Harry into his arms and they lay down together, Harry’s head resting on Draco’s shoulder. Harry slung his leg over Draco’s and lay a hand on his chest. He heard a rumble of approval and he chuckled softly as his eyes drifted closed.
Draco let his breath out in a sigh. He finally had Harry in his arms, a fantasy he thought would never be fulfilled. He had thought his attraction to the other wizard some form of madness. Tonight had been an altogether different type of madness, one he hoped he would experience for a long time to come.
~FIN~
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry or Draco or any of the associate characters - JK Rowling did an amazing job creating the Harry Potter universe, and I’m just taking the boys out for a spin, basically cos I think that the whole "Nineteen Years Later" was a crock, and Draco and Harry should have been the ones living happily ever after. So I borrow them and make it happen, purely for my own nefarious pleasure!
.
Author: 9fn432
Prompt: #10
Summary: Draco loves arse, in particular, he’s taken with Harry’s arse, but actually getting near that arse is impossible and it’s driving Draco mad. Cue UST, cock-tease Harry and scheming females, will Draco win Harry over?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warnings: pretty much PWP, boysecks (obviously)
Word Count: ~10K
Author's Notes: I took the title from Marcus Foster’s song "Faint Stir of Madness". The story doesn’t have much to do with the lyrics, but I like the feel of the music, and I can see Draco’s state of mind somewhat resembling the madness in the song. Prompter, I’m not sure if I captured everything you wanted, but I made a pretty good stab at it. I hope you enjoy! And finally THANKS to my beta Maureen who has been very patient waiting for this while I struggled through writers block and migraines! You are awesome!
A Faint Stir of Madness
Draco cradled the glass of... something... in his hands as he watched the writhing bodies on the dance floor. He didn't know why he came every week. Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he came here every week. Because, every Friday night, Harry Potter came here as well. And left with a different twink each time. Draco's gut twisted as he scanned the crowd, noting more than a few twinks who would be just Harry's type. Thin, lean bodies, pale skin, fresh young faces, blond hair. And there it was. Harry, dressed in a black sleeveless shirt, skinny black jeans, was sandwiched between two of those boys, grinding his cock into the arse of one, while the other was plastered to his back, lips dragging over Harry's neck. Draco wished the one behind would move, so he could take a gander at Harry’s perfectly formed arse in those jeans.
Fuck. He must be mad.
He threw back the drink, not even registering what it was, and slammed the glass back on the bar. He didn't even need to gesture to the bartender; a new full glass was placed in front of him, a pitying look in the bartender's eye.
"If you want him, go get him. Looks like you're his type."
Draco grimaced and quickly gulped down more alcohol. "I don't think so, mate. Believe me, I'm the last one he'd think of leaving with."
The bartender shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. "Sure about that? He's heading over here now."
A warm prickle moved up his spine and he knew Harry was bare inches behind him.
"Malfoy."
"Potter," he acknowledged, without turning around.
The next words made him nearly jump out of his skin. "Dance with me," hot breath whispered over his ear, far, far too close.
Draco gulped. "I don't need a pity fuck, Potter," he spat, still refusing to turn.
This time a warm body pressed up against his back, and there was no mistaking the bulge that pressed against his arse. "Who said anything about fucking? Dance with me." The voice brooked no argument.
A heavy warmth bloomed low in his torso, a slight tightening in his pants. The bartender nodded in encouragement, so Draco emptied his glass quickly and turned to face his nemesis. "Think you can handle me, Potter?" he asked, trying to inject some nonchalance into his voice and failing miserably.
Harry's green eyes sparked and his nostrils flared. "I can handle anything you throw at me, Malfoy." He pressed forward, placing a hand on either side of Draco, essentially pinning him to the bar. "Scared, Malfoy?" Harry asked, in an echo of their youthful sparring.
"You wish, Potter," Draco returned, the words barely a whisper as Harry moved forward, bringing their groins together.
"Dance with me." It was a command this time, and Draco was powerless to resist as Harry wrapped his fingers around his wrist and pulled him towards the dance floor. "I've seen you watching me. I want to see you dance with me." They found a space in the mass of dancers, and Harry placed his hands on Draco's hips and leaned close. "Move with me," he breathed in Draco's ear.
The pounding beat of the music started to seep into Draco's body, even as the awkwardness of the moment filled his mind. Harry moved smoothly to the rhythm, his thumbs drawing gentle circles on Draco's hips. A shiver travelled up Draco's spine; goosebumps broke out on his arms despite the heat and humidity in the club.
Harry pulled Draco's head closer. "Move with me," he repeated his earlier instruction, and tugged Draco's hips forward, bringing their bodies into full contact, chest to chest, hip to hip, knee to knee. Draco had no choice but to move with Harry now, and he allowed the music to take over. They danced together seamlessly, and soon Harry had his hands shoved in Draco's back pockets, pulling him closer still. Draco slung his arms over Harry's shoulders, one hand hanging loosely, while the other bravely curled around Harry's neck. His fingers slid into that black hair that he had fantasised about for years. It was deceptively soft, and soon both hands were sliding through the silky black strands.
A strange vibration against his chest alerted Draco to Harry's moan, and when Draco tugged lightly on the strands, Harry pressed his mouth into Draco's neck, licking a broad stripe up the side to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Draco gripped Harry's hair tighter, earning a hiss in his ear. Feeling the need to take more control over the situation, Draco stepped back, trying not to whimper as Harry's hands left his arse. He twirled the fingers of one hand, indicating Harry should turn around. Harry nodded and complied. Draco took a moment to appreciate Harry's arse, then hooked his fingers into Harry's belt loops and pulled him back so that he was pressed against Harry's back, and his groin flush against Harry's arse. His erection was getting uncomfortable, so he insinuated a hand between their bodies to adjust himself, and felt a chuckle from Harry as he registered what was happening.
This time it was Draco licking the back of Harry's neck, as Harry slid his hands back to hold Draco close. They moved against each other, lost in the music. Occasionally a twink would sidle up and try to press against Harry's front, but a harsh look from Draco quickly sent them running. He earned many a jealous look from the youngsters in the club, but Harry was oblivious, completely consumed by the beat and the movement of their bodies together.
Draco slid his hands around Harry's waist and dipped his fingers under his shirt, splaying his fingers over tight stomach muscles. Harry tipped his head back onto Draco’s shoulder and turned into his neck. His tongue sought out Draco’s earlobe, and he drew the soft flesh between his teeth, nipping gently. In retaliation, Draco slid his hands up to tweak Harry’s nipples.
Harry responded by pressing his arse back firmly against Draco's erection, then he stepped away. He turned and pressed his lips to Draco's, moving them sinuously together. A final light peck. "I'll see you next Friday, yeah?"
Draco was left standing on the dance floor, wondering what had just happened.
oOoOoOo
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of confusion for Draco. He felt like he was going a little more crazy with every moment. Pansy was unable to coax him into talking about what was bothering him. Blaise poured another drink when Draco refused to open up. At Sunday brunch Narcissa was beside herself, and Lucius just ignored him as usual.
Monday morning at the Ministry brought no further clarity, despite meeting Harry in the lift. They only exchanged cursory greetings, going their separate ways when Harry left the lift to go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
On Tuesday, a new illegal potions ring had been discovered, and Draco was the Unspeakable assigned to liaise with the Aurors investigating the case. Harry was professional, giving no indication that anything had happened on Friday night. Draco was at a loss, until he saw Harry give him a sly wink as he left the briefing room.
The remainder of the week passed in a similar manner. With usual efficiency, the Aurors investigated the illegal brewers, and after a successful undercover sting on Thursday, Gawain Robards, the Head of DMLE, gave the squad a day off, starting their weekend early.
Draco flounced into his office on Friday morning, frustrated at not being able to even say hello to Harry in the lift that morning. He was pleased at the success of the investigation, of course, and had received a commendation from Robards for his work in assisting the Aurors, but other than a few heated glances when no one else was watching, his interaction with Harry was minimal. All he could do was hope Harry would be at the club tonight as promised.
He was unable to achieve much that day, casting tempus charms with such frequency that even his boss asked him scathingly if he had somewhere more important to be. At three o'clock an inter-office memo glided into his office, settling neatly on his desk. He sat back in his chair and unfolded the parchment.
Don't forget the club tonight, H.
The few words set his blood simmering. As if he would forget. A combination of lust and indignation warred within him. He grabbed a clean piece of parchment and quickly scribbled a few lines with his quill. He tapped the parchment with his wand and watched as it folded smoothly and flew out of the room. He could only hope that Pansy would agree.
oOoOoOo
"I don't know why you asked me to dinner, Draco. You're not really here. What is with you lately?" Pansy demanded.
"Sorry, Pans, just have things on my mind."
"Was it because you had to work with Potter this week?" she asked, her voice softening.
"What?" Draco flushed. "No!" he exclaimed, terrified that she knew.
"If you say so," she replied. "I would have thought it would be awful. I know he spoke up for you at your trial, but he's still insufferable. I can’t ever open the Prophet without seeing his bespectacled face staring back at me."
Draco sighed with relief. He had heard these complaints from Pansy innumerable times. He was safe, she didn't know.
"Of course, the spread in Witch Weekly was something to behold, even if he is a half-blood."
A sip of wine caught in his throat. "Indeed," he choked out.
"And he does seem quite your type," Pansy said cryptically, an eyebrow raised.
"I wouldn't know," Draco replied gruffly. He looked at his Muggle watch, earning another raised eyebrow from his friend. "Thanks for dinner, Pans. I, um, have somewhere I need to be."
Pansy signalled the waiter. "Oh, I know, Draco. Off to that Muggle club again. Potter-watch?" She smiled predatorily at his guilty flush. "You think I didn't know, darling?"
Draco sagged. "Don't tell father. He'll have a fit. He'll probably disown me."
"Oh don't be dramatic, Draco. You know he can't disown you. His release from Azkaban was conditional that you took power of the estate."
"He would still do everything he could to make my life a living hell," Draco groaned.
"Pull yourself together, darling." Pansy stood from the table and gave Draco a hug. "Potter's not going to take home someone who looks as miserable as you do right now." She planted a kiss on his cheek, then gently wiped away the lipstick mark with her thumb. "Go, have fun. See if you can fuck him tonight and get this out of your system."
Draco returned the farewell kiss. "Thanks, Pans. See you at brunch on Sunday?"
"Of course! You know I'd never miss brunch with you and your mother!" She strode out of the restaurant, hips swinging in an alluring way. Draco watched her departure, wishing his desires lay with her, instead of a green-eyed, dark haired man.
oOoOoOo
It was nearly a quarter past eleven when Draco finally entered the club. He scanned the crowd, looking for Harry's unruly mop of hair, and a sinking feeling hit his gut when Harry was nowhere to be seen. He approached the bar and ordered a drink; he wanted to give it a few minutes at least.
By the time his second drink was almost empty he had given up hope. This was insanity. The usual crowd was here, but there was no sign of Harry. One final swallow and he turned to the bartender, passing over some money.
"Not leaving already, are you?" a sultry voice purred in his ear, fingers tracing lightly down his sides.
Draco paused for a moment, willing down the surge of relief and schooling his features into a mask of nonchalance. "I was thinking about it," he said lightly, turning to meet Harry's bright green gaze. "I might be persuaded to stay."
Harry chuckled and indicated to the bartender for two more drinks. "Have a drink with me, then we'll dance." It was not a request. Draco bristled a little at Harry’s presumption, but forced himself to relax when Harry passed another glass into his hand and clinked his own against it. "Cheers," Harry said, lifting the glass to his mouth and taking a deep swallow. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Harry's neck; he watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He flicked his gaze up to Harry's mouth and was mesmerised when his tongue emerged to lick a drop that threatened to fall from his lips. Draco swallowed, and flushed when Harry raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with your drink, Malfoy?"
"No," he said gruffly, raising his own glass, the cool liquid soothing his suddenly dry mouth. He threw the drink back in three long swallows, the rush of alcohol making his head spin for a moment. "Dance with me," he commanded, wanting to be in control for once.
Harry held up a finger. "Let me finish this." He took his time finishing his own drink, sipping slowly, a self-assured confidence oozing out of him as Draco tried to wait patiently. He was not used to someone else calling the shots. Eventually Harry tipped back his glass for the last time, and lowered it to the bar. "You're eager tonight," he smirked.
Draco grunted, hooked the fingers of one hand in Harry's belt loops and pulled him toward the dance floor. He wanted to wipe that self-satisfied look right off Harry's face, so he quickly situated Harry in front of him, pulling Harry's arse back into his hips. Soon the beat took over, and they were undulating against each other, as if the intervening week had never happened.
As had happened the previous week, various twinks tried to get in on the action, but Harry and Draco had no time for anyone but each other. They danced through several songs, their movements slowly devolving into something that could only be described as clothed fucking. Harry was facing Draco now, his arms slung over Draco's shoulders, Draco's hands clasping his arse and pulling their hips flush together. Their groins thrust against each other, creating a delicious friction that was at the same time too much and not enough. This time Harry allowed Draco to kiss him, tongues sliding, stroking, lips pulling and sucking, teeth nipping gently. Draco leaned down to lick a line of perspiration running down the side of Harry's neck. He groaned as his mouth was flooded with salt and musk that was overwhelmingly Harry.
The pressure inside Draco's pants was intense, the ache low in his groin almost unbearable. "Back room, please," he pleaded.
Harry slid his hands down Draco's back and grasped his arse, pulling their erections together in a particularly hard thrust. He plunged his tongue deep into Draco's mouth, kissing him hard, almost so hard it hurt, then pulled away. "Next week, maybe," he said, patting Draco gently on the cheek. "This time, don't be late!" He turned and made his way through the crowd towards the exit, stopping only for a moment to turn and wink at Draco.
Again, Draco was left standing in the middle of a mass of writhing bodies, wondering what the hell had just happened.
oOoOoOo
The following three Friday nights followed in a similar pattern, with the exception of Draco arriving at the Muggle club "on time" according to Harry. They would share a drink, and quickly make their way onto the dance floor, losing themselves in each other for hours at a time. The regulars in the club learnt that it was useless to try and draw Harry’s or Draco’s attention away from the other, and would watch with amusement as newcomers tried to move in on the action.
The other thing that didn’t change was Draco being left alone, bewildered and extremely hard on the dance floor. Each week he would try and pull away first, try and be the one that left Harry alone, but Harry just kept drawing him in, tempting him with kisses and caresses that gave Draco just enough hope to come back for more.
On the last night, Draco decided enough was enough. He felt like he was going mad. After he went to bed following a rather unsatisfying wank, he promised himself no more. He sulked all day on Saturday, acting very unlike a Malfoy, spending the day lounging around in his pyjamas and eating copious amounts of ice-cream. He allowed himself the one day to wallow, and arrived at Malfoy Manor on Sunday morning bright and early for regular Sunday brunch with Lucius, Narcissa and Pansy.
He thought he had convinced them that everything was fine until Lucius took his leave, mumbling something about "leaving the women to gossip," which earned him a stinging hex from his wife as he exited the sunroom. As soon as the door had snicked shut, Narcissa was on Draco in a flash.
"Darling, you look positively dreadful!" she lamented, while Pansy summoned one of the Manor elves to bring an Invigoration Draught.
"Mother! I’m perfectly fine," he insisted, trying to brush her off, but once Pansy was pressing the vial into his hand, he realised it was wiser to just go with it. He lifted the vial to his lips and swallowed the concoction, hoping to appease the fussing women. Narcissa continued to flutter about, while Pansy stepped back and cast a critical eye over her friend.
"Draco, is it Potter?"
Narcissa looked back and forth between Draco and Pansy, confusion on her face. "Potter? Harry Potter? What would he have to do with Draco?"
"Nothing, Mother," he tried to insist, but could see immediately that she would not be dissuaded.
"Pansy, do be a dear and tell me what is going on!" she exclaimed, before taking a deep breath and settling herself again. "Draco," she began again, calmer, but with a thread of steel in her voice. "What is this business about Mr. Potter?"
He looked at Pansy pleadingly, despite knowing his friend would do nothing to rescue him from an inquisition now. He sighed. "Mother, I’ve been seeing Potter, a little." He took another big breath. "For about four weeks." His words were met with silence as Narcissa observed him with a calculating look. As the silence continued, he began to wonder if a Calming Draught would not have been a better idea, for both himself and his mother.
Eventually Narcissa looked away, a thin furrow between her brows. To an outsider she merely looked a little pensive, but to those who knew her, the tell-tale signs of fingers twisting in her lap, a slight twitch in her jaw, betrayed the tension in her body.
Pansy stepped up to Narcissa and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Aunt Cissy, we talked about this," she said softly.
Draco looked at Pansy in horror, and was about to berate his friend for her betrayal when Narcissa’s face cleared and she pinned her son with a single look.
"Draco," she paused. "My Dragon," she began again, more softly. "I had thought you would grow out of this infatuation, but even I cannot fail to see that Mr. Potter has grown into an exceptional wizard. You would do well to make a match with him," she finished with a note of acceptance.
He could do nothing but gape at his mother in amazement. He had never dreamed he would confess his attraction to Harry, or disclose any liaisons he might eventually achieve. Narcissa’s obvious acceptance and possible approval wasn’t something he had imagined in his wildest dreams.
"Oh, do close your mouth, darling, you’ll catch flies," Narcissa admonished, and Pansy snickered quietly in the background.
Draco closed his mouth and sat back. He opened it again to speak but couldn’t find the words, so he closed it again and flushed as Pansy laughed quietly again. "Draco, darling, do you seriously think Aunt Cissy wouldn’t have known about your obsession with the Golden Boy?" she asked.
"Draco, my son. The wizarding world has changed. We have changed. If Mr. Potter is the one who will make you happy, I will not stand in your way. And I will ensure your father does not stand in your way, either," Narcissa said gently. "Will he make you happy?" she questioned, her blue eyes piercing.
This time Draco’s silence was deliberate. He chose his words carefully. "I don’t know, Mother. He has proven… difficult… to pursue."
Pansy raised a knowing eyebrow but said nothing. Narcissa considered her son’s words for a moment and then spoke. "Have you considered all avenues?" she asked carefully. "I know you, Draco. You will often perceive only the obvious path, but there is more than one way to tame a lion."
A flicker sparked in Draco’s grey eyes. It was true, he often didn’t think of the bigger picture, pursuing only one avenue to achieve his goals. It was something he had learned after the war, but a lesson that he failed to remember. "Pansy, are you still friends with Granger?"
Narcissa looked at her son in approval. Pansy smirked back at Draco, glad to have her friend’s cunning side make a reappearance. "Why yes, I am friends with Granger," she returned with a hint of glee.
"Excellent!" Draco declared. "I think perhaps you should ask her out for a drink tonight."
oOoOoOo
Draco paced in his office. He had been pacing all day. He had been pacing all week.
After brunch on Sunday, Pansy had dashed off an owl to Hermione requesting afternoon tea in Diagon Alley. Much to Draco’s consternation, Hermione had been busy with her family all day, and would not be able to meet with them until Thursday evening, leading to Draco’s current predicament.
His boss had given up asking Draco what the matter was. Even Blaise, who often snuck into the Department of Mysteries, despite numerous warnings from the security staff on Level Nine and from Personnel, was avoiding his friend.
Draco ceased his pacing for a moment, just long enough to frown at the shimmering clock that appeared at the end of his wand. Before the image faded he had resumed his path. Eight steps from desk to the far wall, turn thirty-seven degrees, ten steps to the charmed "window", turn another fifty-three degrees, six steps to his desk and start over.
He was so caught up in his pacing and introspection, that Pansy was able to stand and watch the action for five minutes before she got tired of waiting and rapped loudly on the open door, startling him out of his reverie.
"Pansy!" he exclaimed. He brushed his hands over himself to straighten his already immaculate robes.
She strode over to her friend and gave him an air-kiss on each cheek. "Draco, darling, don’t pace. It’s unbecoming of a Malfoy."
"This whole endeavour is unbecoming of a Malfoy," he stated, mimicking her tone. "Is it finally time to go?"
Pansy chuckled, "Yes, Draco, it’s time to go."
Draco quickly gathered his satchel, making sure he had everything from his office that he needed, and ushered Pansy out into the hallway. He still wasn’t quite sure how she managed to make it as far as his office without being confronted by security, but then there were many mysterious things about Pansy he couldn’t explain.
When they crossed paths with Harry in the Atrium, Draco was torn between wanting to ignore the man completely, and wanting to grab his arse cheeks and squeeze them. Pansy’s restraining hand on his arm reminded him to behave himself, and he restricted himself to a nod in greeting as they made their way to the line of Floo points.
Draco stepped out of the Floo at The Wood Nymph Tea Rooms and followed Pansy to a private booth after she finished a brief conversation with the hostess.
"Hermione!" Pansy exclaimed as she greeted her friend. Draco stood back, a little unsure about how he would be received by his former intellectual rival. He soon realised there was nothing to worry about when Hermione offered her hand to Draco in greeting.
"Draco, it’s lovely to see you again," she smiled softly.
"Likewise," he returned, lifting her hand to his lips. She blushed a little and took her seat at the table again.
"Please, sit," she insisted. Draco and Pansy took their places in the booth, both sitting opposite Hermione.
"So, Hermione, you’re probably wondering why I have Draco here with me," Pansy started, deciding to get right to the point.
Hermione gave a wry grin. "Actually, Pansy, I think I know exactly why Draco is here with you. If your best friend is being as annoying as my best friend, this meeting is precisely what we need."
Draco gaped at Hermione for a moment, and then quickly shut his mouth when he remembered his manners.
"Quite," Pansy said bluntly. "Draco is desperate to get a piece of Harry’s arse, and Harry is being, to put it bluntly, a complete and utter cock-tease."
"Pansy!" Draco admonished. "Hermione, you must forgive Pansy her…"
"It’s perfectly fine, Draco," Hermione interrupted. "I’m well aware of Harry’s bad behaviour, and I’ve warned him that he risks scaring you away before he even gets a chance at getting together with you."
Draco’s mouth opened and closed several times, and he only ceased the action when Pansy nudged him and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like "goldfish".
"Am I correct to assume that Harry’s attentions are not unwelcome?" Hermione asked.
He was still unable to form words, so he settled with a nod.
Hermione studied him for a few moments. "Pansy, you said Draco wanted a piece of Harry’s arse. Draco, I need to know that you’re not just in it for a quick shag. Harry doesn’t do flings well, despite what he might believe. I will not help you if you’re just out to use him."
At this, Draco flushed and looked down at his hands. Silence settled over the three of them as he took a minute to gather his thoughts, wanting to phrase his words correctly. "Hermione, I’ll be honest and say that there was a time when yes, a fling was the only thing on my mind, but despite his hot and cold behaviour of recent weeks, I’ve realised that I do want something more. I can’t promise it will last forever, but I’m not just seeking a quick shag, as you put it." He took a deep breath and held it, waiting for her response.
"Darling, you’ve been in love with him for years, and you know it," Pansy interjected. "Hermione, he has, even though his actions may not have reflected that. I think he’s only just recognised his feelings for what they are recently, but as his friend, I can vouch for him. He’s in this for the long haul. It might start with a quick shag, though," she snickered. "As many as he can get for as long as Harry’s willing, I expect!"
Hermione giggled for a moment, before turning back to Draco. "I hope you mean what you said, because I will come after you if you hurt Harry. Having said that, if he fucks this up on his own, it’s his problem. Right, here’s what you need to do…"
oOoOoOo
The morning after meeting with Hermione, Draco stepped into the Ministry atrium with a new level of confidence, her advice ringing in his ears.
He nodded his usual greeting to Harry in the lift as he moved to him. As others entered the lift Harry and Draco were shuffled to the back. Draco took advantage of this and cupped Harry's arse, giving it a light squeeze. He was impressed that Harry barely twitched.
"See you tonight," Harry whispered as he passed, making sure to brush his hip against Draco’s groin as he made his way through the crowd when the lift reached level two.
Draco clenched his fists as the door closed and the lift descended further. He would not rise to Harry’s taunts, Hermione had described his tactics. He would win, he would win tonight.
He had lunch with Pansy, grateful that his friend worked to boost his confidence and talk strategy.
"Draco, you are a Malfoy, you never let anything defeat you. If you’re not going to match with a pureblood, you could do worse than Potter."
Draco left work early that day, making his way to his flat at half past three. Tonight he was going to pull out all the stops. Tonight Harry was going to let Draco take control.
He selected his tightest jeans, and a black mesh sleeveless shirt. He spent even longer than usual in front of the mirror fixing his hair. After he ran his hand over his jaw, he decided against shaving. The lightly stubbled look added a faint shadow to his face, making him look a little more rugged than his perfectly put together Malfoy facade.
At ten past nine, he strode into the Muggle club, well in advance of his usual arrival time. A few words to the bartender, and a stiff drink for Dutch courage, and he was on the dance floor, this time alone. The crowd was fairly thin, it being very early for a Friday night, but soon some of the regulars noticed Draco's lack of a dance partner, and moved in for the kill. Draco enjoyed their attention, and moved easily from one to another, dancing long enough to hold their interest, but not too long to scare off other potential partners. The entire time, however, he kept an eye on the entrance to the club, looking out for that face he would recognise anywhere.
Finally, at ten past eleven, Harry walked in, wearing sinfully tight leather pants and a deep red silk button down shirt, which was open almost to his navel. Draco quickly arranged his body so that his back was facing the door. He moved in closer to his current dance partner, but flung his head back, making sure his white blond hair was visible to Harry. Despite the warm body moving against his groin, all he could feel was awareness of Harry's nearness. Draco's hair rose at the back of his neck, goosebumps formed on his arms. It was almost as if he could feel Harry's approach, feel Harry's irritation. The prickle of heat against his back was the only warning before he heard one word growled in his ear.
"Mine!"
Draco shuddered as he felt Harry slide his hands around his middle, pulling him away from the twink he was dancing with. He quickly regained his composure, not wanting Harry to know quite how much that one word had set his veins alight with lust. He turned and faced Harry, and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away.
"Potter. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys belong to no one." He tried not to smirk at the look of sheer aggravation on Harry's face. "If you want me, Potter, you'll have to convince me you do. You've been leaving me on the dance floor far too often, I'm beginning to think you just want to string me along." With that, he returned to his previous dance partner, who looked like he wanted to flee at the expression on Harry's face.
Draco turned himself and his dance partner so he could watch as Harry stormed off the dance floor and pushed through the crowd at the bar. Harry didn't even need to ask, a drink was pushed into his hand by the bartender within seconds. The bartender spoke a few words to Harry, who grimaced in response, guilt flashing over his face as he gulped down the drink. The bartender took the empty glass from him and pushed away the money Harry had put down.
Soon the twink he was dancing with lost interest, realising that Draco's attention was elsewhere. Draco continued dancing, on his own, pulling out all his best moves. While he never looked directly at Harry, he was constantly aware of where he was at any given moment, and was fully prepared when Harry grabbed him on the dance floor a second time.
Draco gave Harry a hard look. "If you only want to dance with me, Potter, walk away. Tonight if you stay and dance, you stay." He felt a frisson of power when he saw Harry swallow. "Will you stay? If you won't, I'll leave now. And I won't be back."
Harry stood motionless for a moment, his eyes flickering in the club lights. He suddenly surged forward, wrapped a hand around Draco's neck and pulled him in for a harsh, brutal kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues surged, bodies collided. When he pulled back, Draco was gasping for air. "I'll stay." Draco couldn't hear the words over the pounding of blood in his ears, but the movement of Harry's lips was easy to understand. "I'll stay. Or if you go, I'll come with you." This time Draco heard every word. He pulled Harry back to him and resumed the kiss, this time only slightly softer. Their bodies slipped easily into the rhythm of the music, and Harry slid one thigh between Draco's. They each pressed their erections into the others' hip. Soon hands were sliding up and down backs, underneath shirts, into hair. Their clothing quickly became damp with perspiration. Draco's hands slid down Harry's back to grab his arse, squeezing hard, feeling the resilience of the firm flesh.
A loud wolf-whistle broke through the haze of lust and want and they drew apart. Draco cast a wry grin at the bartender, and whispered into Harry's ear, "I'm leaving. The question is, are we going to your place or mine?"
"Mine," Harry groaned.
"Lead the way then," Draco said, giving Harry a gentle push to the door. He gave the bartender a quick salute as the left the club.
As they walked to a nearby Apparition point, Draco started to develop a case of nerves. This was something he had always wanted, but he wasn't sure how to proceed. He didn't even know if Harry was a bottom or top. And Draco didn't bottom. Ever.
"Harry," he said, pulling the other man to a stop. "Before we go, I need to know..."
Harry looked at him, knowingly. "I can switch. But I prefer to bottom. If that's what you're worried about."
Draco sagged in relief. "Thanks."
"But," Harry continued, "I like to control, from the bottom. If you get my meaning."
A look of bewilderment passed over Draco's face for a moment, his brow furrowed, until the light of comprehension dawned on his face. He gaped and Harry chuckled quietly.
"I have no problem with that," Draco said huskily, "as long as I get my turn to be in control."
Harry grinned. "I think that can be arranged. Are you coming?" He tugged at Draco’s hand.
"Oh, definitely. More than once, if I have anything to say about it."
oOoOoOo
"Kneel, hands behind your back. No touching. No speaking."
Draco's pulse quickened as he obeyed the instructions. He threaded his fingers together, doing what he could to resist the temptation to reach out. His fingers itched with desire for contact.
The red silk shirt floated to the floor, revealing a muscled back and shoulders. Thumbs hooked into the leather waistband, slowly drawing the trousers over perfectly formed cheeks. No pants, commando. Draco's mouth went dry. He swayed forward, almost losing his balance.
Green eyes peered over a pale shoulder. "Don't move."
Draco nodded and licked his lips.
"Soon."
The leather trousers were drawn down, fully exposing pale skin, taut over the finest arse Draco had ever seen. Two perfect dimples rested just above the swell of those amazing cheeks. Draco's fingers twitched, something else twitched too, but he didn't break his position.
The leather was finally pulled down lean legs, lightly dusted with fine black hairs. Firmly muscled thighs narrowed down to tightly corded calves, the hairs becoming darker and thicker before ceasing at surprisingly elegant ankles. The leather trousers were kicked aside.
Harry turned around, and Draco almost felt a pang of loss as the sight of Harry's arse was hidden from him. "Patience, you'll get what you want soon."
Draco tried to reign in the urge to just move in and take what he wanted. Harry would probably let him, but something told him it would be so much better if he worked for it the way Harry wanted him to. Instead he feasted his eyes on the newly exposed flesh. Harry’s frame was lean and wiry, his chest only sporting a little dark hair in the centre and around pert, pink nipples. Just below his ribs a thicker swirl of hair led down past his navel, his lightly muscled abdomen narrowed into a perfectly formed V at his hips. Draco’s eyes were drawn down to an impressive erection, standing proud from a nest of dark curls at his groin. The skin was flushed pink, drawn tight over firm flesh. The head mushroomed perfectly from the shaft, a darker pink, a bead of precum formed at the tip.
Harry stepped closer to Draco. He trailed his fingers through the silky blonde hair. "I've wanted you for a long time, Draco. Now that moment is finally here, I want it to last."
Draco swallowed. Harry's arousal was bare inches from his lips. If he swayed forward but a little, he could taste that clear fluid welling forth from the slit. Now his mouth watered.
As if reading Draco's mind, Harry's hand slid down to his jaw and turned his head. "Open, tongue out." Draco did as instructed, and his heart nearly burst out of his chest as he got that first taste. Harry grasped his own cock at the base, and allowed just the tip to brush across Draco's tongue, leaving a trail of precum on Draco's tastebuds. He gave in, leaning forward to get another taste. Harry allowed it for a moment, and then pulled back. "I said, don’t move."
Draco’s lips quirked at the command but he returned to his original position, bowing his head and peering up through lowered dark blonde lashes.
"If you want my arse, Draco, you need to do as I say. Let’s try again, shall we?" Harry smirked as he again positioned Draco’s mouth near his cock. "Open, tongue out. Don’t move any more than that."
Again, Draco felt that hot, silky skin brush across his tongue. Another burst of that salty, bitter liquid hit his tastebuds. This time he fought the urge to lean in and capture that reddened, swollen head in his mouth. He would have to trust Harry to let him have more when he was ready. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
"Open wider, no teeth. Suck me," Harry commanded huskily. Draco complied readily, eager to explore the impressive specimen before him. He felt Harry’s fingers wind into his hair, tugging firmly on the strands as he pulled Draco’s mouth onto his hot prick.
Draco took care to cover his teeth with his lips, opening his jaw and relaxing his throat. He held position, allowing Harry to set the pace, but curled his tongue to map out the soft silky skin, stretched tight over Harry’s formidable length. He could feel each ridge and vein as Harry thrust smoothly in and out of his mouth.
He peered up through dark blonde lashes to look at Harry's face. His lips were parted, eyes closed, head tilted back ever so slightly. On the next pass of Harry's cock into Draco's throat, he swallowed, and hollowed his cheeks as Harry pulled back. A guttural moan was torn from Harry's mouth as the sensations overloaded him. Draco hummed, pleased at the response he was eliciting from his lover. He repeated the actions on Harry's next thrust, using his tongue to stroke the underside of Harry's prick. When just the head was in his mouth, Draco took a chance, and dragged the tip of his tongue around the head, paying special attention to the frenulum. He felt Harry's cock twitch, and swell just a little.
Harry's fingers tightened in Draco's hair, and he pushed Draco back a few inches. Draco whimpered at the loss of that amazing flesh in his mouth. "I want you to stroke my balls. Just one hand. Keep sucking, but don't make me come. Not just yet," he requested breathlessly.
Draco nodded, already anticipating the amazing taste of Harry's prick. He brought up his left hand, cupping Harry's sack and gently rolling the nuts with his fingers. Harry positioned the head of his cock on Draco's tongue again, replacing his hands on his head and thrusting slowly again. Encouraged, Draco continued worshipping Harry's prick with his tongue and throat, being sure to keep the caresses random so that Harry wouldn't get too worked up. Long elegant fingers were massaging one nut, then the other, then they strayed further back to press on that sensitive flesh behind Harry's balls. Harry grunted, trying to hold back from spilling himself down Draco's throat. When the sensations became too much, he pulled away again, and had to squeeze the base of his erection to try and suppress the orgasm that threatened.
"You certainly know what to do with that mouth of yours," he said gruffly. "I think that maybe you've earned it now."
Draco nearly sagged with relief. "Can..." he gulped. "Can I speak?"
Harry laughed breathlessly. "Yes, Draco. You can speak. I'm surprised you stayed quiet."
"I thought you would stop, you would make me leave," he said as he blushed.
Reaching out to stroke the blonde's cheek, Harry's face softened. "No. I meant it, what I said before. I've waited a long time for this. I supposed I just wanted to know how much you wanted it."
Draco swallowed. "Oh, I want it. I want you. I've wanted you forever, since I first saw your arse close-up in Quidditch leathers."
Harry smiled. "Show me? Show me how much you want me?"
A few seconds passed in silence as Draco processed the words. Suddenly Draco lurched to his feet and grabbed Harry around the waist. A moment later Harry found himself lying on his stomach on the bed; Draco’s hands grasped his hips, pulling him up onto his knees til Harry’s arse was raised. He felt Draco’s shuddering breath ghost over his skin.
Draco took in the amazing sight before him. Harry, arse high in the air, just begging to be ravished. He didn’t know where to start. He ran his hands down Harry’s back, pausing over his cheeks, and pressed his fingers into the warm, firm flesh. Harry moaned. Draco’s eyes closed as he took in the sensation of having Harry’s arse under his fingers. He opened his eyes again, and slipped his thumbs between the cheeks, pulling them apart slightly to feast his eyes on that puckered flesh. Harry quivered, but held position.
A surge of lust flooded Draco’s aroused body when he saw that tight ring flutter under his gaze. He brought one hand to his mouth, wetting his right thumb before he brought it back to Harry’s hole, gently circling the flesh and putting just a little pressure, not enough to breach, but enough to make Harry groan again. He brought his left hand to his own trousers, adjusting his erection and palming his cock briefly.
"Please, Draco, just do something," Harry pleaded.
Draco chuckled, then leaned down and dragged his tongue in a path down Harry’s spine, diverting to the left just above his tailbone. He paused a moment, and sank his teeth into the flesh just below the left dimple, then laved the slightly reddened skin to sooth the mark. "Ungh, Harry," he moaned. "Your arse is truly perfect." He dove in a second time with his tongue, this time licking a stripe along the crease just under his arse cheek into the juncture of his thighs.
Harry squirmed. "Please, Draco, I need more!"
"Patience, Harry. You made me wait, you teased me for weeks! Now it’s your turn," Draco whispered, just before he dragged his tongue between Harry’s cheeks from behind his balls, past his hole and up to his spine.
"Merlin!" Harry cried. "Do that again!"
"What?" Draco asked innocently. "This?" He repeated the caress with his tongue.
Another groan was wrenched from Harry's mouth. His upper body collapsed onto the bed, his arms sliding out to each side, fingers clenching the sheets. Draco smiled and buried his face between Harry's cheeks, inhaling Harry's musky scent. He dragged the tip of his tongue lightly around the puckered skin and drew back, watching the ring of muscle flutter at the loss of contact.
"Ungh, you taste incredible, Harry. Even better than I thought you would."
Harry answered with a groan, and wriggled his arse in Draco’s face. "More!"
Draco chuckled, lifted his right hand, and brought it down lightly on Harry’s left cheek. Harry grunted. Redness blossomed on the skin, and Draco leaned in to lave the area with his tongue, soothing the red mark, drawing a whimper from the man beneath him. Harry shifted on the bed, moving a hand down to fist himself, anything to relieve the pressure that was building in his balls.
"Oh, no you don’t, Harry. You keep those hands by your head." He gave Harry’s other arse cheek a firmer slap and watched as a faint imprint of his hand appeared. He slapped it again, watching the flesh move with the force of his hand, then leaned in to lick that side, blowing gently on the wet skin to soothe the burn.
"Spread your legs, but keep your arse up," Draco commanded, shifting away from Harry to remove his own clothes.
Harry complied, and turned his head to watch the palest smooth skin being revealed inch by inch. His eyelids grew heavy as he took in the perfection before him, then closed as he felt Draco move in behind him again.
A moment later, a hot wet mouth enveloped both his balls, while short fingernails dragged gently down his arse cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He could not hold back the cry that was torn from his throat at the dual sensation. Draco chuckled, causing a delicious vibration around his scrotum, his tongue gently rolling the eggs in his mouth, though it had to be a tight fit.
Draco wriggled further under Harry and took the tip of his leaking prick into his mouth, lapping at the slit and tasting him again. "Merlin, Harry, I could suck you all day." Harry groaned and thrust into Draco’s mouth.
"Fuck, Draco, suck me, please!"
Draco grasped Harry’s cheeks with his fingers and pulled them apart, using his middle fingers to trace the skin around Harry’s hole, while he lifted his head and swallowed as much of Harry’s cock as he could. He felt Harry’s cock twitch as it hit the back of his throat and he could see Harry’s balls pulling up tighter. Draco pulled back and took a breath, hollowing his cheeks as he withdrew, then plunged back down to the root again, and swallowed around the head. At the same time he gently pressed the tip of one finger into Harry’s hole, and brought the thumb of his other hand to press behind his balls. His tongue stroked the underside of Harry’s prick, one, two, three times and then he was rewarded by pulses of bitter salty fluid hitting the back of his throat. Harry convulsed with each spurt, and Draco had to withdraw just a little to be able to swallow, but continue massaging the twitching prick in his mouth.
"Oh fuck! Draco," Harry gasped. "Fuck, oh Merlin, fuck, amazing," he gibbered.
Draco gave Harry’s prick one last gentle suck, curled his tongue around the head to clean him off, then shuffled out from under Harry. He flipped Harry over and laid down on top of him, sealing their mouths together. Harry groaned as he tasted himself mixed with Draco’s unique flavour. Their tongues stroked languidly, twining, sliding against each other and withdrawing, only to meet and repeat the motions. Eventually Harry had to pull back for air, his head hitting the pillow as he dragged oxygen into his lungs.
"Fuck, Draco, that was amazing."
Draco looked down at the green-eyed man and waggled his eyebrows. "I’m just getting started!"
Harry whimpered and then sighed as Draco’s lips returned to his own. The kiss was softer, gentler, and Harry felt his heart rate slow. Draco’s fingers carded through black hair and goosebumps formed on his arms. His hardness pressed into Harry’s hip and Draco groaned at the sensation.
Harry reached down between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Draco’s erection, eliciting a hiss from the man on top of him. Draco thrust into Harry’s grip, his eyes fluttering closed as Harry squeezed gently. "Wait, wait!" He pulled away, heavy breaths gusting over Harry’s face. "I’m not done with you yet." He reached down and grasped the base of his cock, squeezing just hard enough to halt the rush of sensation. "Do you trust me?"
Green eyes blinked at him as Harry considered the question. "Yes," he whispered shakily.
Draco gave Harry a brilliant smile, with just a hint of mischief. "Roll over, on your stomach," he requested softly. "Grab the bars." Harry did as he asked, wrapping his fingers around the wrought iron bedframe. He shivered when Draco grabbed his wand and whispered an incantation. Soft silk ropes appeared around his wrists, binding him. Draco reached around and arranged the pillow beneath Harry’s head so he was comfortable. He placed another pillow beneath Harry’s hips. He trailed his fingers softly down Harry’s back, over the taut globes of his arse and down his thighs, watching as the muscles shifted and rippled under the caress. "So beautiful," he whispered.
He trailed his fingers back up Harry’s legs, allowing them to slip between and brush the crease where his thighs met his arse. Cupping each cheek in his hands, he squeezed the flesh again, and wondered just how anyone could look as perfect as the man underneath him. Harry moaned at the sensation of having his skin caressed and stroked, he nuzzled down into the pillow and just enjoyed Draco’s attentions.
There was silence in the room, save for breathy moans, the occasional gasp, and the whisper of skin on skin. Draco lavished attention on Harry's body. While he focused mainly on the prize, the rest of Harry's body wasn't left out, with random caresses, kisses and licks. Harry never knew quite where the next caress would land, but Draco always returned to Harry's arse, the touches becoming more and more intimate.
Harry felt bereft when Draco suddenly moved away. The absence of contact was palpable, and though it was only moments before Draco returned to him, the time stretched uncomfortably. He hadn't realised he had whimpered until Draco brushed a kiss on his shoulder. "Shhh... I'm still here," he reassured. "I'm going to fuck you now. Are you ready for that?"
Harry drew in a quick, deep breath. "Yes, yes, please Draco, I need to feel you." Draco's face moved down to his, and Harry strained his neck to allow their lips to meet. The moist gust of air on his face made him shiver, despite the heat emanating from them both.
Draco trailed his fingers down Harry's back once more, before Harry heard a jar being opened. Draco used his left hand to part Harry's cheeks, and trailed his right forefinger around the puckered opening, leaving a trail of oil on the pink furled skin. He felt a surge of arousal as the ring clenched and fluttered, and took that moment to breach the opening with his finger. Harry moaned softly at the intrusion and lifted his hips to try and draw Draco in further.
"Patience, Harry, I want this to last." He chuckled at Harry's grunt of frustration, and rewarded him by sliding his finger further into the tight passage. Sliding in and out, he twisted his wrist and curled his finger, just lightly brushing that secret spot and making Harry whimper. Harry whimpered louder when the finger was removed, until he felt the pressure of a second finger being added. He huffed when the intrusion caused a slight burn and stretch, pushing down to ease the entry. Draco's mouth watered as he saw his fingers being swallowed by Harry's tight hole. A shudder passed through him when he realised soon that would be his cock, sinking into that hot, tight flesh. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath, trying to slow the rush of sensation to his groin.
Soon Harry was rocking against Draco's hand, as his fingers scissored and stretched, this time applying firmer pressure when they found Harry's prostate. A third finger was introduced and Harry began to moan almost incoherently. "Please, Draco, fuck me now, I need..." he gasped as the fingers were withdrawn. "I need you now!" he commanded, feeling slightly mortified when the demand came out more like a whine.
Draco opened the jar again, and coated his cock with the oil, trying to keep the touch as light as possible. He was so tightly strung he was afraid he would come the moment he was inside Harry. He pulled Harry's legs apart, and placed his own knees on the outside of Harry's thighs, took a deep breath and leaned forward, lining himself up with Harry's hole.
"Ready?" he whispered, placing one hand next to Harry's ribcage.
"Ready!" Harry exclaimed. "Get inside me already!" he demanded.
Draco chuckled and pressed forward, using the other hand to guide himself inside his lover. The pressure was intense, the heat overwhelming. He watched his cock sink slowly into that amazing arse, and he wished he was flexible enough to bend down and bite the flesh while he fucked him into the mattress. Resting his weight on his hands, either side of his lover, he sank all the way in, until he could feel his balls resting on Harry’s. They both moaned as their bodies came together in the intimate embrace. Draco had to pause, he could feel his orgasm threatening and when Harry clenched his arse, he had to bite his lip to stop from coming right then.
"Give me a second," he gasped, praying Harry would give him the time he needed to allow the arousal to ebb. A few moments later, he drew back a fraction, relieved when the motion didn’t trigger his orgasm. He lay down so his chest was flush with Harry’s back and slipped his hands underneath to grasp his shoulders for leverage. "Hold on tight," he whispered, and began a smooth rhythm, withdrawing almost completely, pausing a moment, and then plunging back in a steady stroke. Sweat began to pool between their bodies, making their skin slick, sliding against each other deliciously with each move. Harry’s moans became grunts as Draco’s movements became sharper, faster. The smooth roll of hips turned into a snapping motion. The quieter sounds were soon drowned out by the filthy sound of bodies slapping against each other.
Draco pulled one hand down to grasp Harry’s erection but was stopped by Harry’s muttered "No! Almost there, don’t stop!" Instead he shifted angles, trying to find that trigger, that spot he knew would make Harry come. He was soon rewarded by a harsh cry of "There! Right there! Don’t stop, please!" Harry was almost sobbing with need. Draco clenched his jaw, doing his best to strike Harry’s prostate with every pass, trying to hold back the tide of pleasure that would pull him apart. Suddenly Harry froze, his muscles clenching almost painfully around Draco’s cock, and then he was convulsing beneath Draco, thrusting into the pillow beneath him and then arching his hips back up as if to try and pull Draco deeper in. The muscle spasms pulled Draco over the edge, and he released a hoarse cry as his release rushed over him. He held Harry close, burying his cock as deep as possible as the waves of pleasure eclipsed them both.
Draco did not know how long they lay there, wrapped up in each other, panting as they came down from their highs. It was only a breeze over cooling damp skin that made him shift and move away from Harry. They both whimpered at the loss of contact as he withdrew his softening prick. He slithered down Harry’s body and kissed each dimple above his arse, gently stroking the globes with his hands. Draco looked around and spied what he hoped was the door to the bathroom. "I’ll be right back," he whispered, brushing a kiss over Harry’s neck.
Moments later he returned with a warm, wet washcloth, and gently cleaned his lover. He released Harry from his bonds manually, and when he had rolled over, Draco cleaned Harry’s front with soothing strokes. He dropped the washcloth on the floor and took Harry’s hands in his and massaged them gently, rubbing away the slight indentations left by the ropes. Their eyes met and they sat quietly while Draco stroked Harry’s wrists. Words seemed to flow between them in the silence, words of challenge and acceptance, words of question and answer. Neither knew what would happen now, but they both seemed happy to just enjoy the moment.
Finally Harry whispered one word. "Stay?"
Draco studied Harry for a few seconds, seeming to search for something. A moment later, he whispered one word in return. "Yes." He gathered Harry into his arms and they lay down together, Harry’s head resting on Draco’s shoulder. Harry slung his leg over Draco’s and lay a hand on his chest. He heard a rumble of approval and he chuckled softly as his eyes drifted closed.
Draco let his breath out in a sigh. He finally had Harry in his arms, a fantasy he thought would never be fulfilled. He had thought his attraction to the other wizard some form of madness. Tonight had been an altogether different type of madness, one he hoped he would experience for a long time to come.
~FIN~
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry or Draco or any of the associate characters - JK Rowling did an amazing job creating the Harry Potter universe, and I’m just taking the boys out for a spin, basically cos I think that the whole "Nineteen Years Later" was a crock, and Draco and Harry should have been the ones living happily ever after. So I borrow them and make it happen, purely for my own nefarious pleasure!
.