Fic: Life As He Needs It...H/D...NC-17
The harry_holidays reveals are up and I have to thank melusinahp for the delightfully yummmmmmmmmy Cherry Vanilla Chocolate Fudge Ripple. Go and read it!!!
And I can pimp the one I wrote, too! This has a Harry in it that is completely different from the way I normally write him and it is not meant to be an entirely healthy situation, so just be warned.
Title: Life As He Needs It
Author: jamie2109
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3200
Pairings/characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: All Harry wanted to do was please Draco.
Warnings: Nothing specific, some short glimpses of torture but nothing too gory or graphic.
Author's notes: Written for mimiheart who wanted a sub!Harry, bottom!Harry in a D/s relationship with lots of hurt/comfort and Draco rescuing Harry. Thanks to my wonderful beta nocturnali
Blue sky, warm wind and sunshine…Harry never thought he’d see the likes of those again. Not in a way that warmed him all the way through, anyway. He stretched out and closed his eyes, letting the sun’s rays burn red behind his lids. Fire and heat made him feel alive.
And he had Draco Malfoy to thank for it.
Thinking of Draco made him remember he still needed to clean up after yesterday’s session where Draco had fucked him to within a few seconds of losing consciousness. The variety of toys Draco chose had been frightening at first but he trusted Draco with his life and had therefore willingly submitted. Harry’s arse ached deliciously today as a result and he stretched further, arching his back and feeling a sympathetic twitch in his groin. Damn but he hoped Draco was in a good mood when he returned from work today so he’d take care of this sweet flood of arousal currently buzzing through his body. He’d do it himself but that was one of Draco’s rules. Harry’s cock belonged to Draco and Harry did not have permission to touch himself.
Pleasantly aroused and savouring the warm summer heat, Harry dozed off quite satisfied how his life had turned out.
.o0o.
“There’s no escape you know.”
That voice, where had he heard it before? It was gravely and rough and…he could barely think straight. A pounding beat had started in his head and was crushing his brain, forcing his eyes to clench shut and…where was he? Dimly he felt another curse hit him and searing pain that blotted out the pounding in his head, burned up his leg to his stomach, pulsing with pure hot angry torture.
“This time there is no way out.”
.o0o.
Harry blinked and woke when the sun moved and cast the shadow of the tree over his face. He was completely relaxed and refreshed by the nap in the sun. How he loved the sun and the welcoming laziness that always accompanied it. It was nice to have the freedom to be lazy; the security to never have to worry about anything and the joy to be able to embrace life again.
Harry smiled at himself and stood up. He might have freedom but he also had chores to do. The limp in his stride as he walked inside caused him to frown slightly and head to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for a salve. The leg didn’t bother him too much these days but he kept massaging in a special ointment so that it kept his muscles and tendons flexible. Once more he had something to thank Draco for. For a while it had seemed that he would barely be able to walk with a cane, let alone almost normally. But Draco had allowed him to use a potion that helped bring back most of the function.
As he rubbed the salve into his leg, making sure to rub it in along the long, ironically lightning shaped scar that ran from his ankle up to his thigh, he ruminated on the changes he’d made to his life. And there had been many. He’d rewritten so many of his life narratives that he barely recognised himself. He’d learnt to deal with his short temper. No longer did he fly off the handle at the least insult or imagined slight. No longer did he consider himself a victim of circumstances or a slave to expectations. The only expectations he now wished to fulfil were Draco’s. Succeed in pleasing Draco and performing well and everything else was taken care of.
And Draco took care of him so well. Harry smiled in gentle appreciation, his face soft with adoration for the man who had turned his life around.
.o0o.
“I would think that after three weeks, you’d have grown accustomed to your new position, Potter.”
He’d snarl at the voice but it would take up too much energy and crack the newly scabbed sores on his lips. Instead, he dropped to his knees, obedience grating against his nature even as a rough metal collar grated around his neck and the cold stone floor shredded the skin on his knees, breaking open the curse wound where it crossed his kneecap.
“Better.”
.o0o.
Moving more freely now, Harry wandered through to the bedroom and spotted the array of toys they’d used last night laying haphazardly on the end of the bed or on the floor. Most of them needed cleaning so he picked them all up and headed through to the bathroom and ran the tap over the sink. He added some disinfectant and carefully cleansed the angry looking black dildo that had made short work of his first erection last night.
He wished that he could have seen what he looked like spread face down on the bed, arse in the air with Draco whispering sweet words into the skin of his back, while the black dildo ceaselessly fucked him. It made him hope again that Draco was in a good mood when he returned from work because he’d decided to ask permission for a large mirror in their room. That way he would be able to see from all angles what he looked like when Draco was fucking him - see what Draco saw and be able to better please him by studying from a different angle how Draco reacted to the things Harry did.
Almost as good as watching some Muggle porn, he thought as his groin twitched again. This seemingly constant flush of arousal that was following him around today wasn’t anything terribly out of the ordinary. At times Harry felt like he walked around following his dick, his erection poked out in front of him constantly hard and wanting. Of course, Draco liked him that way; it meant he had to do little in the way of preparation before Harry was ready.
Harry still wasn’t sure that Draco would agree to film their bedroom sessions, though. Mirrors, maybe; filming, probably not. Draco was very private when it came to things they did behind closed doors.
.o0o.
”Your continued arrogance is wearing thin, Potter. All you need do is call me ‘master’ and it will all stop.”
Harry could barely hear the spoken words as his breath rasped sharply against his dry throat in a vain attempt to spread life-giving air to his heaving chest. The constriction around his neck left him choking with each dragging inhalation, the sounds sending panic signals to his brain and the lack of oxygen causing little dancing stars to cloud his vision. His dry, cracked lips tried to move; he wanted more than anything to give in.
“Come on, Potter. No one will know. It will be our little secret.”
.o0o.
As Harry packed away the now clean toys, he was very tempted to surprise Draco when he came home with an arse already primed for fucking. Despite how sore he was from last night, he still had this delicious tension singing through his bloodstream that made him want Draco to fuck him again. And again. To be used like a toy; a plaything - on his knees, legs spread apart and hole gaping wide open and pulsing with need. God…Harry shivered. To him it meant that he was pleasing Draco; he felt desired and wanted and appreciated when Draco complimented him on something he’d done right and felt proud of him.
Draco had saved him from himself, from his own arrogance and taught him what it was like to be loved and to love in return. Harry would gladly get down on his knees and kiss Draco’s feet every day when he thought of how happy and content he was.
Though ‘content’ was not quite the right emotion he was feeling just at the moment. Harry adjusted his trousers easing the tightness and finished making the bed, changing the bed linen before carrying the dirty sheets to the laundry.
After tossing them in the machine, adding powder and switching it on, he stood for a while watching the sheets agitate, recalling a time when just the sight of anything rotating was enough to upset his stomach.
Things were different now, of course. There wasn’t too much Harry was afraid of anymore, except maybe Draco leaving him. Those thoughts tended to make him heartsore, tense and frightened. Enough so that Draco always knew what he’d been thinking about. It upset Draco when Harry thought like that, said it meant Harry didn’t trust him enough. That displeased Draco immensely and usually earned Harry a night on the floor by the bed as punishment. And that was enough to lessen the compelling need for sex. For now.
.o0o.
“Don’t you trust me?”
The mockery in the voice almost drowned out Harry’s panic. Almost. He could still feel the prickle of terror sneaking itself across his skin, leaving behind a fine tremor in his limbs that threatened to cave in and give way under him. The only things that prevented it from happening were the ropes around his wrists and ankles holding him firmly against the wheel. He whimpered as his stomach rolled thinking about the suffocating horror of the wheel stopping right as his head was under the water - and not moving. Of being caught struggling, unable to breathe but gasping in lungfuls of water, choking and fighting and slowly drowning…
.o0o.
Hours later, after spending the afternoon tidying the house and planning a dinner menu - Draco laughed at him for doing the cleaning manually, because “don’t we have house-elves for that?” - he was quietly pleased that the dining room looked wonderful with soft romantic candles, sparkling crystal glasses, and shining dinnerware. Dinner was almost ready to be served; he just had to add the pasta to the boiling water when Draco arrived home.
Harry loved cooking Draco’s favourite meals, especially pasta as it tended to be more informal and relaxed than a three-course meal complete with all the trimmings. They generally just added a decent wine from the Manor’s cellar, some good garlic bread - Draco loved it with lots of garlic and insisted that Harry eat it as well, although too much garlic upset Harry’s digestive system and he usually ended up on the toilet a lot the next day - a green salad and the best pasta he could make.
“Harry, I’m home.”
Harry grinned and tossed the pasta into the water before moving quickly to the front door and kissing Draco deeply, hands running through his hair. Harry adored this part of the day. He missed Draco so much during the day that the homecoming was always something special to him. Like they were starting off a date or hadn’t seen each other for so long or one had some fabulous news that they were excited about. Draco coming home from work wasn’t all that exciting in the scheme of things but it always made Harry feel like everything was right with the world again.
“Hey, that’s a wonderful welcome home,” Draco smiled down into Harry’s face.
“I missed you,” Harry said softly, lowering his eyes.
“You always say that, love.” Draco’s hand nudged under Harry’s chin and lifted. “Look at me.”
Harry did as he was told and met the eyes of the man he loved more than anything in the world. Felt that thrill of complete connection and trust reflected back in the deep grey eyes.
“What have I told you about not looking at me?” Draco’s voice carried only slight traces of disappointment but Harry’s insides clenched. He gulped.
“You’ve told me that I should look at you when I speak to you, unless you direct me otherwise,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry, Draco.”
“And why did I say that?”
Harry frowned. “You want to be able to see my beautiful eyes when I’m speaking to you.”
“That’s right,” Draco said, inclining his head. “I think I deserve that respect from you, don’t you?” Draco’s words were stern, but his tone was gently chiding rather than accusatory and Harry felt supported and loved by the correction.
Harry smiled and nodded.
“You may take my cloak, now, Harry, and we’ll have dinner. I expect that you’ve been your usual industrious self and cooked us a tantalising meal?”
“Yes, Draco. I’ve cooked your favourite pasta tonight. The Carbonara with extra bacon and parmesan,” Harry grinned and moved to take Draco’s cloak, hanging it up on the stand, then followed Draco to the dining room.
“Everything’s ready, I just need to dish it up. Won’t be a minute,” Harry said, smiling as he returned to the kitchen and drained the pasta, poured the prepared sauce over it and grated more parmesan over the top. Then he picked up the basket with the still hot and crunchy garlic bread in it and went back into the dining room to have dinner with his love.
Draco had poured the wine by the time he returned. Harry dished up pasta for them both and sat at the table, waiting for Draco to give him permission to eat. Draco always did, in fact Draco usually made him eat more than he needed but Harry always waited for permission first - it was manners, he thought.
.o0o.
“There is no excuse for bad manners, Potter.”
Whilst he kept his eyes closed, pretending to block it all out, he could hear movement and he could feel dread. There was no regret for spitting back the disgustingly foul mess he’d been trying to make him eat, although he knew he should be trying to conserve his strength. He knew the price for his disobedience would be high but he didn’t expect his mouth to be forced open, nose held in a vice like grip and water poured down his throat while he choked and gagged and eventually swallowed pint after pint until he was bloated and ballooned. Shaking and panting shallowly so he wouldn’t vomit, he moaned piteously when he opened his eyes and saw a fist lining up against his distended and swollen belly.
“Now we’ll see how long you can hold it in.”
.o0o.
Pleasantly content, Harry sat himself at Draco’s feet, curling up against his thigh and wrapping an arm around his leg, sighing happily. The buzz of arousal that had plagued him all day had receded to an anticipatory purr. Now that dinner was finished and all his chores were done for the evening, Harry was looking forward to some vigorous, yet amazingly sensual sex.
Draco seemed to be in a good mood tonight; he’d certainly liked the dinner and had openly appreciated the wine Harry had chosen. Harry chanced a glimpse at the man he loved and saw that he was looking very mellow indeed.
“Draco,” Harry started.
“Yes, love?” Draco responded distractedly while he was reading the newspaper.
“What would you think about getting mirrors in the bedroom?” he ventured, tentatively.
“Hmm, whatever you think, love,” Draco replied and Harry almost purred as a hand absentmindedly stroked his head and cool fingers threaded their way through his hair. Harry knew that Draco hadn’t listened to him but he didn’t mind. It was probably not such a great idea to ask him while he was reading the paper anyway. He was lucky he hadn’t incurred some form of punishment for interrupting. Instead of worrying about that, he allowed himself to sink into the sensual feel of Draco’s fingers almost massaging his scalp as they stroked, letting himself slip deeper into a languid stupor of utter peace.
Some time later, he felt himself being picked up and carried into the bedroom. He snuggled down, safe and warm into Draco’s chest but let himself stay in that dulled, sleep hazed state, feeling content and loved and cared for. When they reached the bed, he knew he’d have to wake up more for sex, although Draco sometimes liked taking him while he was half asleep. He said he loved the dreamy look of complete bliss that sharpened into pain when he plunged inside him for the first time. And Harry loved pleasing Draco, so he stayed half asleep even when he found himself on the bed, Draco spreading all his limbs out.
A quiet spell had removed all Harry’s clothes and he lay there, naked and spreadeagled on the bed, glad that he’d used the salve on his leg today so it didn’t cramp at being spread so wide apart.
He hummed appreciatively as Draco’s blond hair brushed his stomach and a warm, wet mouth caressed his cock. Draco was in a very giving mood obviously and Harry lay back to enjoy it, rolling his hips slowly with each press of Draco’s tongue. If it wasn’t for the arousal exciting him, Harry knew he’d have fallen asleep by now. As it was, he was in that half and half stage of complete relaxation, bound by a ring of heat centred in his groin.
It must have been the daze that made him lose track of what Draco was doing to him.
He jumped, startled and suddenly painfully alert.
Draco had tied his wrists and ankles to the bed.
He opened his mouth to say something but found he could not get his voice to work. His mind was flashing, fading between visions of broken, scabbed knees and red, roughened wrists and…and… cracked lips and ropes and…and…pain and punishment and remembering all the…oh, and Draco was there…and chains and such an ache in his stomach that he thought he’d burst and burning and shaking and the feeling of giving in, giving up…
He must have let out a distressed noise or moved because Draco was there, hand on his cheek, looking down at him, barely withholding a growl.
“Still?” he asked, and Harry nodded, attempting to force down the panic and apprehension, knowing he’d let Draco down, yet again.
.o0o.
”Harry?”
The sharp voice cut through the shards of his consciousness and sparked something…he wasn’t sure what it was…hope? Was that Malfoy? Draco? Here? With a Herculean effort he managed to crack open an eye to see a blurred shape in front of him and strong, deft hands holding him, lifting him…no…freeing his arms and legs so he could slump into a hard chest and be surrounded by …relief. He managed a hoarse sob before, exhausted, he gave into silent tears.
“It’s all right, now Harry. I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise. Never again.”
.o0o.
The bindings were untied and Draco lifted Harry into his arms, settling him in his lap. Harry snuggled in close, inhaling deeply the smell of comfort and safety that Draco always exuded. The one that clung to his sanity and reminded him of where home was and how it had rescued him, offering him relief and safety where the past couldn’t scare him anymore.
“It’s all right, now Harry. I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you here.”
Draco’s words cut through his terror and calmed him. The soothing tone, the protective arms, strong like a vice around him and the warm, loving beat of Draco’s heart against his ear, all worked their magic.
Fin.
And I can pimp the one I wrote, too! This has a Harry in it that is completely different from the way I normally write him and it is not meant to be an entirely healthy situation, so just be warned.
Title: Life As He Needs It
Author: jamie2109
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3200
Pairings/characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: All Harry wanted to do was please Draco.
Warnings: Nothing specific, some short glimpses of torture but nothing too gory or graphic.
Author's notes: Written for mimiheart who wanted a sub!Harry, bottom!Harry in a D/s relationship with lots of hurt/comfort and Draco rescuing Harry. Thanks to my wonderful beta nocturnali
Blue sky, warm wind and sunshine…Harry never thought he’d see the likes of those again. Not in a way that warmed him all the way through, anyway. He stretched out and closed his eyes, letting the sun’s rays burn red behind his lids. Fire and heat made him feel alive.
And he had Draco Malfoy to thank for it.
Thinking of Draco made him remember he still needed to clean up after yesterday’s session where Draco had fucked him to within a few seconds of losing consciousness. The variety of toys Draco chose had been frightening at first but he trusted Draco with his life and had therefore willingly submitted. Harry’s arse ached deliciously today as a result and he stretched further, arching his back and feeling a sympathetic twitch in his groin. Damn but he hoped Draco was in a good mood when he returned from work today so he’d take care of this sweet flood of arousal currently buzzing through his body. He’d do it himself but that was one of Draco’s rules. Harry’s cock belonged to Draco and Harry did not have permission to touch himself.
Pleasantly aroused and savouring the warm summer heat, Harry dozed off quite satisfied how his life had turned out.
.o0o.
“There’s no escape you know.”
That voice, where had he heard it before? It was gravely and rough and…he could barely think straight. A pounding beat had started in his head and was crushing his brain, forcing his eyes to clench shut and…where was he? Dimly he felt another curse hit him and searing pain that blotted out the pounding in his head, burned up his leg to his stomach, pulsing with pure hot angry torture.
“This time there is no way out.”
.o0o.
Harry blinked and woke when the sun moved and cast the shadow of the tree over his face. He was completely relaxed and refreshed by the nap in the sun. How he loved the sun and the welcoming laziness that always accompanied it. It was nice to have the freedom to be lazy; the security to never have to worry about anything and the joy to be able to embrace life again.
Harry smiled at himself and stood up. He might have freedom but he also had chores to do. The limp in his stride as he walked inside caused him to frown slightly and head to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for a salve. The leg didn’t bother him too much these days but he kept massaging in a special ointment so that it kept his muscles and tendons flexible. Once more he had something to thank Draco for. For a while it had seemed that he would barely be able to walk with a cane, let alone almost normally. But Draco had allowed him to use a potion that helped bring back most of the function.
As he rubbed the salve into his leg, making sure to rub it in along the long, ironically lightning shaped scar that ran from his ankle up to his thigh, he ruminated on the changes he’d made to his life. And there had been many. He’d rewritten so many of his life narratives that he barely recognised himself. He’d learnt to deal with his short temper. No longer did he fly off the handle at the least insult or imagined slight. No longer did he consider himself a victim of circumstances or a slave to expectations. The only expectations he now wished to fulfil were Draco’s. Succeed in pleasing Draco and performing well and everything else was taken care of.
And Draco took care of him so well. Harry smiled in gentle appreciation, his face soft with adoration for the man who had turned his life around.
.o0o.
“I would think that after three weeks, you’d have grown accustomed to your new position, Potter.”
He’d snarl at the voice but it would take up too much energy and crack the newly scabbed sores on his lips. Instead, he dropped to his knees, obedience grating against his nature even as a rough metal collar grated around his neck and the cold stone floor shredded the skin on his knees, breaking open the curse wound where it crossed his kneecap.
“Better.”
.o0o.
Moving more freely now, Harry wandered through to the bedroom and spotted the array of toys they’d used last night laying haphazardly on the end of the bed or on the floor. Most of them needed cleaning so he picked them all up and headed through to the bathroom and ran the tap over the sink. He added some disinfectant and carefully cleansed the angry looking black dildo that had made short work of his first erection last night.
He wished that he could have seen what he looked like spread face down on the bed, arse in the air with Draco whispering sweet words into the skin of his back, while the black dildo ceaselessly fucked him. It made him hope again that Draco was in a good mood when he returned from work because he’d decided to ask permission for a large mirror in their room. That way he would be able to see from all angles what he looked like when Draco was fucking him - see what Draco saw and be able to better please him by studying from a different angle how Draco reacted to the things Harry did.
Almost as good as watching some Muggle porn, he thought as his groin twitched again. This seemingly constant flush of arousal that was following him around today wasn’t anything terribly out of the ordinary. At times Harry felt like he walked around following his dick, his erection poked out in front of him constantly hard and wanting. Of course, Draco liked him that way; it meant he had to do little in the way of preparation before Harry was ready.
Harry still wasn’t sure that Draco would agree to film their bedroom sessions, though. Mirrors, maybe; filming, probably not. Draco was very private when it came to things they did behind closed doors.
.o0o.
”Your continued arrogance is wearing thin, Potter. All you need do is call me ‘master’ and it will all stop.”
Harry could barely hear the spoken words as his breath rasped sharply against his dry throat in a vain attempt to spread life-giving air to his heaving chest. The constriction around his neck left him choking with each dragging inhalation, the sounds sending panic signals to his brain and the lack of oxygen causing little dancing stars to cloud his vision. His dry, cracked lips tried to move; he wanted more than anything to give in.
“Come on, Potter. No one will know. It will be our little secret.”
.o0o.
As Harry packed away the now clean toys, he was very tempted to surprise Draco when he came home with an arse already primed for fucking. Despite how sore he was from last night, he still had this delicious tension singing through his bloodstream that made him want Draco to fuck him again. And again. To be used like a toy; a plaything - on his knees, legs spread apart and hole gaping wide open and pulsing with need. God…Harry shivered. To him it meant that he was pleasing Draco; he felt desired and wanted and appreciated when Draco complimented him on something he’d done right and felt proud of him.
Draco had saved him from himself, from his own arrogance and taught him what it was like to be loved and to love in return. Harry would gladly get down on his knees and kiss Draco’s feet every day when he thought of how happy and content he was.
Though ‘content’ was not quite the right emotion he was feeling just at the moment. Harry adjusted his trousers easing the tightness and finished making the bed, changing the bed linen before carrying the dirty sheets to the laundry.
After tossing them in the machine, adding powder and switching it on, he stood for a while watching the sheets agitate, recalling a time when just the sight of anything rotating was enough to upset his stomach.
Things were different now, of course. There wasn’t too much Harry was afraid of anymore, except maybe Draco leaving him. Those thoughts tended to make him heartsore, tense and frightened. Enough so that Draco always knew what he’d been thinking about. It upset Draco when Harry thought like that, said it meant Harry didn’t trust him enough. That displeased Draco immensely and usually earned Harry a night on the floor by the bed as punishment. And that was enough to lessen the compelling need for sex. For now.
.o0o.
“Don’t you trust me?”
The mockery in the voice almost drowned out Harry’s panic. Almost. He could still feel the prickle of terror sneaking itself across his skin, leaving behind a fine tremor in his limbs that threatened to cave in and give way under him. The only things that prevented it from happening were the ropes around his wrists and ankles holding him firmly against the wheel. He whimpered as his stomach rolled thinking about the suffocating horror of the wheel stopping right as his head was under the water - and not moving. Of being caught struggling, unable to breathe but gasping in lungfuls of water, choking and fighting and slowly drowning…
.o0o.
Hours later, after spending the afternoon tidying the house and planning a dinner menu - Draco laughed at him for doing the cleaning manually, because “don’t we have house-elves for that?” - he was quietly pleased that the dining room looked wonderful with soft romantic candles, sparkling crystal glasses, and shining dinnerware. Dinner was almost ready to be served; he just had to add the pasta to the boiling water when Draco arrived home.
Harry loved cooking Draco’s favourite meals, especially pasta as it tended to be more informal and relaxed than a three-course meal complete with all the trimmings. They generally just added a decent wine from the Manor’s cellar, some good garlic bread - Draco loved it with lots of garlic and insisted that Harry eat it as well, although too much garlic upset Harry’s digestive system and he usually ended up on the toilet a lot the next day - a green salad and the best pasta he could make.
“Harry, I’m home.”
Harry grinned and tossed the pasta into the water before moving quickly to the front door and kissing Draco deeply, hands running through his hair. Harry adored this part of the day. He missed Draco so much during the day that the homecoming was always something special to him. Like they were starting off a date or hadn’t seen each other for so long or one had some fabulous news that they were excited about. Draco coming home from work wasn’t all that exciting in the scheme of things but it always made Harry feel like everything was right with the world again.
“Hey, that’s a wonderful welcome home,” Draco smiled down into Harry’s face.
“I missed you,” Harry said softly, lowering his eyes.
“You always say that, love.” Draco’s hand nudged under Harry’s chin and lifted. “Look at me.”
Harry did as he was told and met the eyes of the man he loved more than anything in the world. Felt that thrill of complete connection and trust reflected back in the deep grey eyes.
“What have I told you about not looking at me?” Draco’s voice carried only slight traces of disappointment but Harry’s insides clenched. He gulped.
“You’ve told me that I should look at you when I speak to you, unless you direct me otherwise,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry, Draco.”
“And why did I say that?”
Harry frowned. “You want to be able to see my beautiful eyes when I’m speaking to you.”
“That’s right,” Draco said, inclining his head. “I think I deserve that respect from you, don’t you?” Draco’s words were stern, but his tone was gently chiding rather than accusatory and Harry felt supported and loved by the correction.
Harry smiled and nodded.
“You may take my cloak, now, Harry, and we’ll have dinner. I expect that you’ve been your usual industrious self and cooked us a tantalising meal?”
“Yes, Draco. I’ve cooked your favourite pasta tonight. The Carbonara with extra bacon and parmesan,” Harry grinned and moved to take Draco’s cloak, hanging it up on the stand, then followed Draco to the dining room.
“Everything’s ready, I just need to dish it up. Won’t be a minute,” Harry said, smiling as he returned to the kitchen and drained the pasta, poured the prepared sauce over it and grated more parmesan over the top. Then he picked up the basket with the still hot and crunchy garlic bread in it and went back into the dining room to have dinner with his love.
Draco had poured the wine by the time he returned. Harry dished up pasta for them both and sat at the table, waiting for Draco to give him permission to eat. Draco always did, in fact Draco usually made him eat more than he needed but Harry always waited for permission first - it was manners, he thought.
.o0o.
“There is no excuse for bad manners, Potter.”
Whilst he kept his eyes closed, pretending to block it all out, he could hear movement and he could feel dread. There was no regret for spitting back the disgustingly foul mess he’d been trying to make him eat, although he knew he should be trying to conserve his strength. He knew the price for his disobedience would be high but he didn’t expect his mouth to be forced open, nose held in a vice like grip and water poured down his throat while he choked and gagged and eventually swallowed pint after pint until he was bloated and ballooned. Shaking and panting shallowly so he wouldn’t vomit, he moaned piteously when he opened his eyes and saw a fist lining up against his distended and swollen belly.
“Now we’ll see how long you can hold it in.”
.o0o.
Pleasantly content, Harry sat himself at Draco’s feet, curling up against his thigh and wrapping an arm around his leg, sighing happily. The buzz of arousal that had plagued him all day had receded to an anticipatory purr. Now that dinner was finished and all his chores were done for the evening, Harry was looking forward to some vigorous, yet amazingly sensual sex.
Draco seemed to be in a good mood tonight; he’d certainly liked the dinner and had openly appreciated the wine Harry had chosen. Harry chanced a glimpse at the man he loved and saw that he was looking very mellow indeed.
“Draco,” Harry started.
“Yes, love?” Draco responded distractedly while he was reading the newspaper.
“What would you think about getting mirrors in the bedroom?” he ventured, tentatively.
“Hmm, whatever you think, love,” Draco replied and Harry almost purred as a hand absentmindedly stroked his head and cool fingers threaded their way through his hair. Harry knew that Draco hadn’t listened to him but he didn’t mind. It was probably not such a great idea to ask him while he was reading the paper anyway. He was lucky he hadn’t incurred some form of punishment for interrupting. Instead of worrying about that, he allowed himself to sink into the sensual feel of Draco’s fingers almost massaging his scalp as they stroked, letting himself slip deeper into a languid stupor of utter peace.
Some time later, he felt himself being picked up and carried into the bedroom. He snuggled down, safe and warm into Draco’s chest but let himself stay in that dulled, sleep hazed state, feeling content and loved and cared for. When they reached the bed, he knew he’d have to wake up more for sex, although Draco sometimes liked taking him while he was half asleep. He said he loved the dreamy look of complete bliss that sharpened into pain when he plunged inside him for the first time. And Harry loved pleasing Draco, so he stayed half asleep even when he found himself on the bed, Draco spreading all his limbs out.
A quiet spell had removed all Harry’s clothes and he lay there, naked and spreadeagled on the bed, glad that he’d used the salve on his leg today so it didn’t cramp at being spread so wide apart.
He hummed appreciatively as Draco’s blond hair brushed his stomach and a warm, wet mouth caressed his cock. Draco was in a very giving mood obviously and Harry lay back to enjoy it, rolling his hips slowly with each press of Draco’s tongue. If it wasn’t for the arousal exciting him, Harry knew he’d have fallen asleep by now. As it was, he was in that half and half stage of complete relaxation, bound by a ring of heat centred in his groin.
It must have been the daze that made him lose track of what Draco was doing to him.
He jumped, startled and suddenly painfully alert.
Draco had tied his wrists and ankles to the bed.
He opened his mouth to say something but found he could not get his voice to work. His mind was flashing, fading between visions of broken, scabbed knees and red, roughened wrists and…and… cracked lips and ropes and…and…pain and punishment and remembering all the…oh, and Draco was there…and chains and such an ache in his stomach that he thought he’d burst and burning and shaking and the feeling of giving in, giving up…
He must have let out a distressed noise or moved because Draco was there, hand on his cheek, looking down at him, barely withholding a growl.
“Still?” he asked, and Harry nodded, attempting to force down the panic and apprehension, knowing he’d let Draco down, yet again.
.o0o.
”Harry?”
The sharp voice cut through the shards of his consciousness and sparked something…he wasn’t sure what it was…hope? Was that Malfoy? Draco? Here? With a Herculean effort he managed to crack open an eye to see a blurred shape in front of him and strong, deft hands holding him, lifting him…no…freeing his arms and legs so he could slump into a hard chest and be surrounded by …relief. He managed a hoarse sob before, exhausted, he gave into silent tears.
“It’s all right, now Harry. I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise. Never again.”
.o0o.
The bindings were untied and Draco lifted Harry into his arms, settling him in his lap. Harry snuggled in close, inhaling deeply the smell of comfort and safety that Draco always exuded. The one that clung to his sanity and reminded him of where home was and how it had rescued him, offering him relief and safety where the past couldn’t scare him anymore.
“It’s all right, now Harry. I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you here.”
Draco’s words cut through his terror and calmed him. The soothing tone, the protective arms, strong like a vice around him and the warm, loving beat of Draco’s heart against his ear, all worked their magic.
Fin.