Pheromones, Friends and First Times (2 of 2)
Title: Pheromones, Friends and First Times (2 of 2)
Author: sesheta_66
Summary: When a Weasley Wizarding Wheeze goes horribly wrong, Fleur is fascinating, Bill is bewildered, Ron gets rejected, Hermione heaves ho, Harry becomes harried, Draco is determined, Blaise is brazen and Pansy is particularly perceptive. And so our story begins ...
Pheromones, Friends and First Times - Part 2
Draco watched the entrance of the club in what he thought was a surreptitious manner until Pansy started to laugh. "Boy, do you have it bad," she said.
"Pathetic," Blaise teased.
"Fuck off," he shot at both of them. They were right, though. Damn.
"He'll be here. Relax already," Pansy soothed, resting a hand over Draco's. "Meanwhile, let's get ourselves another round. It looks like you could use another to calm you down."
She shot Blaise a look which clearly said Go get the next round, and leave us to chat for a few minutes. "Shall I make it a double?" he asked Draco.
"Merlin, no!" Pansy shrieked. "He needs to calm down, not pass out."
Blaise now out of the way, Pansy squeezed Draco's hand. "Relax, honey. It's just Potter. You've known him forever. And it's not even a date. Nothing to worry about."
"I know. It's just ... never mind."
"What?"
"Look, you're the only ones who know how I feel, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"But --"
"Really. I've thought about this, and even if he isn't straight--" Draco wasn't about to betray Harry's confidence by telling anyone what Harry wasn't yet prepared to disclose "--I don't want to bollocks this up. We're getting along now, and I'd just like to leave it at that, okay?"
"But, Draco --"
"Pansy, please. I appreciate what you're trying to do. If something happens between us, then fine. But don't push it. And for Salazar's sake, please stop Blaise from running off at the mouth."
"I can't make any promises about that."
"He's already dropped every comment possible when Potter has been around. He needs to just let it go now. Please work on him?"
She patted his hand and smiled. "I'll do my best."
"Thanks."
"Yeah, well, what are best friends for?"
"Oh, fuck!" Blaise said as he returned to the table, drinks in hand but looking at the entrance.
"What?" Draco asked.
"Weasley."
Draco looked at the entrance he had only moments ago been monitoring. "Fuck." Potter was there - looking sexy in a pair of low-rise denims and a soft green button-down shirt. At his side was the weasel. How lovely.
"Well," Pansy reasoned as she waved them over, "it's not like any one of us would have shown up on our own with a bunch of Gryffindors."
"I suppose you have a point, Pans," Draco agreed.
"Yeah, but the weasel?" Blaise asked.
"He lives with him now," Draco reminded them.
"Hey!" Harry said as he approached the table.
They all greeted each other - the weasel merely grunted, then made his way to the bar to get drinks.
"Hope you don't mind," Harry said, clearly oblivious to the tension in the air. Honestly, it could have been sliced with a sword it was so thick. "But Ron was set for another night on the sofa staring at the telly, so I dragged him out to join us."
"Not at all," Pansy lied through her teeth. Draco rolled his eyes at her.
"I know the two of you don't get along," he said to Draco, "but I was hoping we could set aside differences for the evening." He smiled and any argument Draco had had building inside was gone. Bah! Pansy was right; he did have it bad. "I'll get us a round as my way of saying thanks for at least giving it a try, okay?" He got up and joined the weasel at the bar.
"You are seriously going to have to drop that kneazle in the firelight look you give Potter," Pansy said. "Very un-Slytherin like."
"Yeah, if we didn't know better, we might think you liked him or something," Blaise taunted.
"Fuck off," he growled.
"There now. That's the Draco we all know and love."
The night progressed rather painfully, thanks to the weasel. He was clearly uncomfortable, and he made a point of projecting his discomfort on everyone else at the table. Potter kept trying, as did Pansy and Blaise, to start conversations with him. Draco knew it was pointless, and didn't bother.
Potter was fidgety, and everyone else was quiet.
"Blaise, would you care to dance?" Pansy asked.
"I'd love to," he said, relieved, and they left the three of them on their own. Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
"We're making some real headway with the potions, aren't we?" Potter asked.
Draco latched on to the conversation like a lifeline. "I'm hoping that one of these latest ones will do the trick. But if not, I have a few more options up my sleeve that we can try." Potter smiled and Draco did not swoon. Definitely not.
"What are those two doing?" the weasel asked suddenly. So suddenly that Draco jumped. "Twitchy there, are you ferret?"
"Ron!" Potter admonished him. Take that, weasel.
Keeping his voice as free from contempt as possible, Draco replied, "Actually, as it was the first time you've spoken all night, you just caught me off guard." He smiled at the stupid git to emphasise his point - that he had more class in his little finger than Ron would ever have.
Potter chuckled. "He has a point, Ron." Weasley scowled and something inside Draco did a dance. He was hungry. That must be it. Yes, definitely hungry. Because he surely wasn't rejoicing that Harry was taking his side against his friend. Wait! When did he become Harry? Potter. Right. That's better. "What was it that you said anyway?"
The weasel's frown deepened as he looked up onto the dance floor. "Those two, off to the right. What are they doing?" Draco saw nothing unusual on the dance floor, except ...
"Which two do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer and hoping for Harry's--Potter's sake that he was wrong.
"The two blokes over on the right."
Draco chanced a look at Ha--Potter. He was looking a little troubled. "It would appear as though they're dancing," Draco replied helpfully.
"No, really?" came the sarcastic retort. "I hadn't noticed."
"Well, you did ask what they were doing," Draco added through gritted teeth. "While I did think it was rather obvious, I answered your question anyway."
"Obviously I know they're dancing. But they're blokes. What are they doing dancing together?"
Draco resisted punching him. Strangely enough, hexing him didn't seem enough. As he caught Harry's - oh, fine, it's Harry now - discomfort out of the corner of his eye, he just wanted to pound the life out of the bastard. Instead, once again he took the high ground. Damn, but this forced proximity to the weasel would be the death of him, he was sure.
"Well, weasel," - no point being too polite - "you see ... sometimes men like other men. Surely you've heard of that?" He braced himself for the response.
Weasley seemed to ponder that. "Yeah, yeah, sure. It's not ... well, it's not that it bothers me or anything. It's just ... well ... usually blokes can't dance all that well even when they've got a bird helping them along. I mean, two blokes just ... well, it's not right. That's all."
Well. That wasn't quite the answer he was expecting. Perhaps the git wasn't as big an arse as Draco had thought. One look at Harry did nothing to make him relax, though. He still looked as tense as he had before the weasel had admitted that homosexuality didn't bother him. Maybe Harry hadn't caught that part.
He watched Harry wave the waitress over and whisper something to her. Shortly afterwards, with Pansy and Blaise back at the table, she returned with two shots of something blue and smoky for each of them. Harry gave an almost predatory smile that went directly to Draco's cock. "I think we should drink to finding a cure," - he winked at Draco - "and getting this arse out of my house and back home with Hermione where he belongs."
Everyone drank to that, even Weasley. In fact, he took it all in stride. It seemed that Draco was the only one to catch that tone in Harry's voice that said he was completely serious. And seriously pissed off.
Another toast. Then Blaise bought a double round and they toasted twice more. Then the unthinkable happened. Harry stood up and held his hand out to Draco. "Shall we show Ron just how right two blokes can be dancing?" Draco gaped at him. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He was about to say no, but then he locked eyes with Harry. Who was looking rather drunk, rather sweet, and very sexy. Fucking hell.
Instead of saying no, he found himself agreeing, smirking at the weasel, and avoiding eye contact with both Blaise and Pansy. And sweet Jesus, it was the perfect song too. If, you know, you were planning on bumping and grinding your way into shocking the shit out of your straight best mate. Which apparently Harry was.
Thank God he'd had four shots of that vile - but rather tasty - concoction. Had he not, he'd have been hard before they reached the dance floor from the anticipation alone. Then Harry turned around, smiled wickedly at Draco and took him in his arms. Oh, God.
~*~*~*~
Harry had listened as his friend, who was like a brother to him really, had gone on about the blokes dancing. He hadn't fooled Harry with his stupid explanation after Draco had urged him to clarify. And he had done it so well. Where Harry had felt a mixture of anger and hurt, and had wanted to lash out and deck Ron, Draco had merely outsmarted him. Come to think about it, Draco seemed to have done that an awful lot over the years.
Harry knew he wasn't being rational. He knew that having Ron live with him for all this time, with his moping around and his constant mess, had pushed him to the breaking point. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was probably over-reacting, but it had certainly seemed like he was more than just bothered by the blokes dancing.
Harry wasn't exactly the most practiced dancer, but he had improved vastly since the Yule Ball at school, what with all the special functions he'd been expected to attend, and the dance classes he had taken to make them more bearable. This, however, was something new. He knew he could do it, but figured a bit of liquid courage could go a long way. After all, he didn't think the shock of it all would stop Ron asking some more pointed questions. Might as well be as ready as he could be.
So, he'd bought a couple of rounds. His first toast went swimmingly, and Harry was pretty sure only Draco had taken the toast seriously. And Harry had meant every word. Interesting that of all people, Draco -- er, Malfoy -- would have picked up on it. He hoped he wasn't going to push their newly-discovered friendship too far, though.
Blaise bought a couple more rounds. Once Harry had downed those, he figured he'd better do it while he could still stand. So he asked Draco to dance. He saw the look of shock on ... well, on everyone's faces. But it was Draco's that bothered him. He softened his smile just a bit and looked earnestly at his friend -- Draco was his friend now, wasn't he? Draco said yes. Excellent. And then the most perfectly sinful song came on and Harry pulled him into his arms.
"Harry, are you sure about this?"
"You called me Harry."
"Yes, well, it is your name."
"Yes it is," Harry smiled. "And yes, I'm sure." He pulled Draco's body against his own and they started moving to the music.
Draco's hands were resting on Harry's shoulders as he whispered, "You don't have to do this. I think Weasley gets the point."
"Do you? I don't think so," Harry said as he glanced at his friend; Ron was staring wide-eyed at the two of them, possibly stunned into immobility. "Besides, I want to dance with you."
Draco's big grey eyes looked deeply into Harry's and suddenly it seemed like maybe there was more to what Harry had just said than he realised. "Y-you do?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied honestly. In for a knut, in for a galleon. "You're easily the hottest guy here. Why wouldn't I want to?" The look on Draco's face was worth it. He went from concerned to shocked to smug in a heartbeat. Oh, yeah. There was definitely more going on here than Harry had planned.
"Well, I am that," he agreed.
"So ... let's show 'em what we can do."
And show them they did. They were easily the hottest couple on the dance floor, not only dancing together as though they'd been doing it for years, their bodies moulding perfectly together, but grinding most provocatively. Harry was thankful that he'd had those drinks, or he'd have been hard as a rock by now. As it was, he was halfway there.
The music slowed and the two of them simply carried on like they were meant to be there, holding each other close. Harry could feel Draco's hot breath tickling his neck, and he felt himself falling. Something about having Draco there, in his arms, felt right, and Harry never wanted to let go.
He pulled away a bit, and ran his hands through Draco's hair to look into his eyes. What he saw there reflected what he was feeling, he was sure. They stood there for a few moments, the rest of the world fading away, just looking into each other's eyes, swaying to the music, when Draco whispered, "Kiss me, Harry."
Harry leaned down and brushed his lips tentatively over Draco's. It was soft, apprehensive, unsure. He pressed his lips to Draco's softly again. And again. And again. His lips were somehow softer than Harry had expected, sweeter. Then he licked a slow, teasing trail along Draco's lower lip and he felt Draco moan in delight as his lips parted. Slowly, softly and oh-so-sweetly Harry's tongue pressed forward to meet Draco's.
As their tongues began their own dance, their hands touched, caressed and explored. When Harry's hands reached down to cup Draco's arse and pull his hips closer, they both moaned, their erections rubbing against each other, sending a wave of pleasure shooting through Harry's body.
Suddenly, reality clicked in, as though a switch inside Harry's head had been flipped. What was he doing? His eyes fluttered open to see Draco looking as shaken as he felt. Oh, God. Harry's stomach lurched as he realised what he'd just done. He looked over at the table to see Ron's back as he exited the club. Pansy and Blaise looked pleased, but who knew what was going through the Slytherins' minds? Then Draco. Oh, God, Draco. Harry hadn't meant for anything like this to happen. They had just got past all that anger and hatred, and now he'd gone and done something so stupid.
"I --" he started, but had no idea what he was going to say.
That was the most incredible kiss I've ever experienced and I want to keep kissing you all night long? True, but impractical.
I want to hold you in my arms forever, forget the rest of the world, and make love to you for the rest of our lives? Way over the top, incredibly cheesy and sure to drive him away.
I think I'm falling for you, and I don't want to stop? Too much, too soon.
I'm screwed up and I don't want to drag you into something that will surely end up hurting you? That's a cop-out.
He felt his Gryffindor courage spill out of him and run screaming out the door as he took the coward's way out. "I ... I'm sorry, Draco. I ... I never meant for this to happen. I just ... I have to go." And he left the club before he said anything profoundly stupid.
~*~*~*~
"What happened?" Pansy asked as Draco arrived at the table.
"We danced. We kissed. He left."
"But fuck, Draco, you guys were hot out there," Blaise said, quite unhelpfully.
"No shit," he snapped. "I hadn't noticed."
"The whole club noticed," Blaise continued, clearly not knowing when to stop.
"Yeah, I rather think that's what occurred to Harry right before he took off."
"Oh, honey, I'm so --"
"If you say sorry, I may have to hex out your tongue." Pansy promptly shut her mouth, looking close to tears. Draco couldn't bring himself to care. "As for you," he said to Blaise, "next time I say not to push, perhaps you could remember this night and listen to me for a change."
"Draco, I'm s--"
"I'm going home." He left the club and Apparated home, the throbbing in his head having nothing to do with the music or the alcohol.
~*~*~*~
The next day Draco awoke slightly hung over but more clear-headed than he'd been for a long time. Better than he'd been ever since Harry fucking Potter walked back into his life. Oh, yes, he knew what he had to do. He would find that cure as quickly as possible - he really thought it was one of the formulas he and Har--Potter were working on. He would get it done, and Potter would be out of his life for good. If he ever needed anything again, he could go to some other apothecary. The ache in the pit of his stomach was nothing but a result of his over-indulgence the night before. Nothing else. Right.
He arrived to find himself blissfully alone. Well, almost. He checked in with Severus to discuss his progress on the potions and get his input. Unfortunately, he had another topic in mind.
"So I understand that you and Mr Potter had rather an eventful evening last night."
"I don't want to talk about it," Draco replied. "And how do you know these things?"
"I have my ways."
"Blaise."
"Mr Zabini paid me a visit at my portrait at the Ministry this morning, yes."
"Bastard."
"There's no need for --"
"No. What there's no need for is this conversation. I don't want to talk about it. Ever."
"It seems to me, Draco --"
"You know what? I don't give a kneazle's backside how it seems to you. My private life is just that - private. I came here to discuss the potions. Are you willing to do that, or shall I leave?"
"Very well then." Draco knew that he'd crossed the line and that he'd have to apologize later for his outburst, but thankfully Severus was too interested in the potions to press the issue.
Har--Potter arrived on time, but without the usual spring to his step. Thank Merlin for small miracles. They began to work in awkward silence, which suited Draco just fine. However, silence was not the order of the day, as it seemed that H--Potter too wanted to talk. Draco wanted to vomit. Preferably on Blaise's shoes. Better yet, in his shoes. Bastard.
"Draco, about last night --"
"Forget it, Potter." He saw him flinch at the use of his last name. Good.
"We haven't gone back to that now, have we? Just ... I just wanted to say I'm --"
"Fuck! What is with people wanting to say they're sorry?! Look, Potter, we danced, we kissed, you woke up to reality, you left. End of story. It's not like we had some grand love affair and our worlds got ripped apart. It was one kiss. I suggest you get over it. I know I have."
Harry looked stricken for a moment, and Draco's stomach did a bit of a flip. But then his face hardened. "Alright," he said. "What do you need me to do?"
Leave ... fuck off ... get out of my life ... all of the above ...
"Just get me some empty bottles from the store room."
~*~*~*~
After Harry had arrived home from the club, Ron had immediately speculated that he had been drunk and that Draco had somehow manipulated the situation into Harry kissing him. Not wanting to argue, Harry hadn't bothered to correct him. He'd made a mistake, letting his anger get the better of his judgement that night - what else was new? - but he wouldn't do that again. He wanted to tell Ron his own way, in his own time. And he wanted to wait until after Ron had returned to his own home. Sure, after that night Ron would wonder, but if he didn't know for sure, he was likely to remain silent.
Harry had gone to the shop the next day hoping to apologize to Draco for putting him in that situation, and then doing something so stupid. The last thing Draco needed was someone who had only just accepted who he was, but wasn't ready for the rest of the world to know. Draco was angry, but he seemed to have brushed it off. While it hurt to know that his feelings weren't reciprocated, Harry was glad to know that he wasn't toying with Draco's emotions in the process.
It took two more days before one of the formulas seemed to work. At least it worked on the blood sample they had from Fleur. Now it was just a matter of seeing if it worked on her. Draco and Harry went to Shell Cottage with the hopeful news. Things had got worse for her and Bill, and Fleur hadn't left the house for days. She nearly bowled them over with her excitement when they arrived.
It was a rather anti-climactic event when all was said and done. The formula worked, Fleur could once again go out in public, and Ron no longer swooned in her presence or lusted after her privately.
Harry went to visit Hermione after they'd ensured that Ron was no longer affected. As they had promised, neither Bill nor Fleur had told anyone what they had learned about Harry, respecting his wishes to tell everyone when he was ready. Harry told Hermione that day, to ensure she wouldn't judge Ron so harshly, and while she was surprised at the news, she also said it explained a lot. And she was sure that Ron would not give him any grief over it. Besides, if he did, she'd set him straight, so to speak.
Harry arrived at his own home to find Ron packing. "Thank Merlin that's all over now," Ron said as he prepared to return home. "Thanks for everything, Harry."
"It's not me you should be thanking," Harry said.
"What? The ferret?" Harry scowled at him. "It's his job. He did it for the money, pure and simple. He got paid; that's thanks enough for him."
"You really think so?" Harry asked incredulously. "You think that was the only reason he did it, when he's got more money than we'll ever have?"
"Well ... yeah."
"I can't believe you're so blind." Harry thought about what he had just said, and something fell into place. "I can't believe I've been so blind."
"What are you going on about?"
"Nothing." He would have plenty of time to talk to Ron later. Right now he needed to talk to someone else. "You can see yourself out, yeah?"
"Yeah, I've already sent most of my stuff back to the house, and 'Mione's waiting for me." He grinned widely. "We're going out to celebrate."
"Great. I'll talk to you later," Harry said as he Disapparated.
~*~*~*~
"Draco?" Harry had Apparated to the shop, hoping that Draco hadn't closed up for the night. The wards hadn't yet been reset to prevent him entry, so that was one thing. "Draco, are you here?"
"In the back," came a muffled reply. When Harry entered the back room, he could see why his voice sounded so odd. Draco was sipping on some Firewhiskey, and by the looks of things, he'd made a decent dent in the bottle.
"Celebrating?" Harry ventured.
"Yeah, sure," Draco said, his tone belying his words.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Why not?" Draco said. He waved his wand and another glass appeared. He poured Harry a good measuring of the whiskey, then topped up his own glass. "To success," he said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
"Success," Harry agreed and took a sip.
"Careful with that," Draco pointed to the glass. "Wouldn't want you having too much. You never know what you might do."
"Draco, I'm sorry."
"What for? We did it. We figured it out. You paid me for my services, and now we can get back to our lives. Nothing to be sorry about."
Harry's chest tightened with guilt, and with pain. "Draco, I never meant --"
"I know that," Draco snapped. "Don't you think I know that? You never meant to spend time with me. You never meant to become friends with me. You surely never meant to kiss me. You never meant --"
"I never meant to hurt you," Harry interrupted. "I would never intentionally hurt you."
Draco snorted and swigged back the rest of his drink. He took the bottle and filled up his glass again. "Right, Harry. Like I could believe that. It's all we've ever done, you and I - hurt each other. Why should this be any different?"
Harry got up and walked over to Draco, putting his hands on his shoulders. He waited for Draco to look up at him. "Because I care about you."
"Why should I believe that?" he asked.
Harry leaned down and pressed his lips lightly against Draco's. "Because it's true," he said. When he leaned in to kiss him again, Draco pushed him away.
"Stop it, Harry!" he yelled, getting off his chair. "Don't fuck with me!"
Harry, steadying himself again, was not to be pushed away so easily. "I'm not. I won't," he said as he walked towards the blonde. Draco kept his distance, backing away every step Harry took. "I mean it, Draco. I care about you. More than I was willing to admit. More than is healthy, I'm sure."
"And what about your friends? What will they think? What about the weasel?"
"Well, Ron's gone back to Hermione," Harry said, approaching slowly but steadily. "And frankly, I don't really care what they think."
"Right," Draco said, his chin lifted in defiance. "That wasn't the case just the other --"
"I know, Draco, and I'm sorry. I mean it; I'm sorry. I didn't think I was ready for ... for this." He waved his hands between the two of them.
Draco frowned. "And just what is this?"
"I'm not really sure," Harry answered honestly. "What would you say it is?"
"Fucked up is what it is."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right." He caught up with Draco as the other man's back reached the wall. "But I can't help but want it just the same." He put his hands against the wall on either side of Draco's head and leaned in. "I can't help but want you," he whispered in Draco's ear, then nibbled on his earlobe. "I can't stop thinking about you." He kissed a path across Draco's jaw and down his neck.
"Really?" Draco asked, his voice shaky with what Harry hoped was desire.
He looked deeply into Draco's searching grey eyes and nodded. "Really."
Draco smiled. "Then kiss me, Harry."
Harry's heart leapt, and he did just that. This kiss, unlike their first, was not soft and tender, and wasn't lingering with hesitation. This one was forceful and passionate, and laid claim. It was teeth and tongues and lips and Merlin it was perfect. Harry leaned his body against Draco's, pressing him against the wall. Draco released a guttural moan as their erections rubbed against each other. This time, Harry didn't back away.
"Fuck," Harry replied, unable to contain himself as he broke their kiss for a moment. "I need you, Draco. Fuck, I want you so badly."
"Then take me, Harry."
That was all Harry needed to hear. He frantically divested Draco of his clothes, taking the opportunity to kiss as much of the freshly exposed skin along the way as he could. All the time, Draco was removing Harry's clothing, uttering an occasional Harry or fuck or right there or hurry.
"God, Harry, please." It was like music to Harry's ears. He pressed his naked groin against Draco's and they both whimpered at the contact. Harry grabbed both their cocks and began stroking them together. Fuck, it was the best feeling he'd ever experienced.
"Draco," he groaned before claiming the blonde's mouth in a searing kiss, pumping his hand now in earnest, and using his other to grasp Draco's arse. He felt Draco pull away from him, and he let out a sob. A very manly one.
Draco chuckled as he retrieved a jar from the desk drawer. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "What?" Draco asked. "I've been known to entertain myself on occasion when on my own at the office."
Harry laughed as he took the proffered jar and opened it. "As long as it's just you that was entertained," Harry said as he dipped his hand in and pulled out a geneorous quantity of the viscous substance.
"Jealous?" Draco asked.
Harry put the jar down and reached out with his free hand, pulling Draco in for a demanding kiss. "Insanely," he said.
Draco's eyes twinkled mischievously as he grinned at Harry. "Good." He kissed Harry and guided his hand down. Harry spread the lube over both their erections, and resumed stroking with renewed interest. It felt even better than before, and if the noises coming from Draco were any indication, he felt the same way.
Before long, Harry could feel his climax building, and Draco cried, "So close. So close." He put a hand to Harry's to stop the motion. "Want to come with you inside me."
Harry's heart leapt and his stomach flipped. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, I've never ..."
"I know, Harry. I'm sure. I want you to," Draco said. "Do you know --"
"Mm-hmm," Harry smiled. "Lots of reading material," he said as he grinned more widely and kissed Draco for all it was worth. Moving his lube-slicked hand between Draco's legs, he stroked his fingers along Draco's perineum and teased at his puckered entrance. Slowly and very gently, Harry inserted one finger. He let Draco guide him when to insert a second and then a third finger, stretching and loosening him as he went.
"Now, Harry," Draco growled. "Fuck me now."
Oh, God! That was the hottest thing Harry had ever heard in his life. He reached for the jar and slathered more lube on his now aching cock. Draco wrapped one leg around Harry's waist as Harry positioned himself.
He pressed forward slowly, feeling the ring of muscle give way and Draco's channel engulf him in heat. "Fuck," he whispered.
"That's the general idea," Draco joked as he adjusted to the intrusion. He kissed Harry softly then, their tongues gently weaving a sensual pattern that was Harry's undoing. "Move," he ordered.
Harry pulled back slowly, then pressed back in with restraint. "So tight," he said as he pulled back out again. "So hot," as he pressed forward again. He kept up the gruelling pace, beads of sweat now threatening to fall from his forehead, both of their bodies glistening. He didn't know how much longer he could hold back.
As though he could hear Harry's thoughts, Draco said, "Faster." Harry didn't need any more urging, as he increased the pace. It was the most intense experience of his life. Sex had never felt like this before. Nothing had ever felt this good, this right. There was nothing in the world but this feeling, and the sounds of their coupling, skin on skin, panting, moaning, and the occasional fuck, harder, or faster. Harry could feel his orgasm approaching and though he wanted it to last forever, he couldn't have stopped it if he tried.
He cried Draco's name as the waves of pleasure flowed over him. He continued to thrust as he felt his release fill Draco's channel. Draco was stroking his own cock and a few moments later, his come was spurting over their stomachs and he was calling Harry's name. As he felt Draco's contractions around his own cock, it was all Harry could do to remain standing.
Harry kissed Draco again, trying to convey everything he felt through his lips and tongue that he couldn't put into words just yet. Finding himself breathless, he reluctantly pulled away. Brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Draco's eyes, he leaned in and kissed him chastely on the forehead. "That was ..."
"Yeah, it was," Draco smiled.
Harry smiled back. In that moment, he knew that whatever the future held, however he would deal with it, Draco would be there with him. All was well.
~ FIN ~
.
Author: sesheta_66
Summary: When a Weasley Wizarding Wheeze goes horribly wrong, Fleur is fascinating, Bill is bewildered, Ron gets rejected, Hermione heaves ho, Harry becomes harried, Draco is determined, Blaise is brazen and Pansy is particularly perceptive. And so our story begins ...
Pheromones, Friends and First Times - Part 2
Draco watched the entrance of the club in what he thought was a surreptitious manner until Pansy started to laugh. "Boy, do you have it bad," she said.
"Pathetic," Blaise teased.
"Fuck off," he shot at both of them. They were right, though. Damn.
"He'll be here. Relax already," Pansy soothed, resting a hand over Draco's. "Meanwhile, let's get ourselves another round. It looks like you could use another to calm you down."
She shot Blaise a look which clearly said Go get the next round, and leave us to chat for a few minutes. "Shall I make it a double?" he asked Draco.
"Merlin, no!" Pansy shrieked. "He needs to calm down, not pass out."
Blaise now out of the way, Pansy squeezed Draco's hand. "Relax, honey. It's just Potter. You've known him forever. And it's not even a date. Nothing to worry about."
"I know. It's just ... never mind."
"What?"
"Look, you're the only ones who know how I feel, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"But --"
"Really. I've thought about this, and even if he isn't straight--" Draco wasn't about to betray Harry's confidence by telling anyone what Harry wasn't yet prepared to disclose "--I don't want to bollocks this up. We're getting along now, and I'd just like to leave it at that, okay?"
"But, Draco --"
"Pansy, please. I appreciate what you're trying to do. If something happens between us, then fine. But don't push it. And for Salazar's sake, please stop Blaise from running off at the mouth."
"I can't make any promises about that."
"He's already dropped every comment possible when Potter has been around. He needs to just let it go now. Please work on him?"
She patted his hand and smiled. "I'll do my best."
"Thanks."
"Yeah, well, what are best friends for?"
"Oh, fuck!" Blaise said as he returned to the table, drinks in hand but looking at the entrance.
"What?" Draco asked.
"Weasley."
Draco looked at the entrance he had only moments ago been monitoring. "Fuck." Potter was there - looking sexy in a pair of low-rise denims and a soft green button-down shirt. At his side was the weasel. How lovely.
"Well," Pansy reasoned as she waved them over, "it's not like any one of us would have shown up on our own with a bunch of Gryffindors."
"I suppose you have a point, Pans," Draco agreed.
"Yeah, but the weasel?" Blaise asked.
"He lives with him now," Draco reminded them.
"Hey!" Harry said as he approached the table.
They all greeted each other - the weasel merely grunted, then made his way to the bar to get drinks.
"Hope you don't mind," Harry said, clearly oblivious to the tension in the air. Honestly, it could have been sliced with a sword it was so thick. "But Ron was set for another night on the sofa staring at the telly, so I dragged him out to join us."
"Not at all," Pansy lied through her teeth. Draco rolled his eyes at her.
"I know the two of you don't get along," he said to Draco, "but I was hoping we could set aside differences for the evening." He smiled and any argument Draco had had building inside was gone. Bah! Pansy was right; he did have it bad. "I'll get us a round as my way of saying thanks for at least giving it a try, okay?" He got up and joined the weasel at the bar.
"You are seriously going to have to drop that kneazle in the firelight look you give Potter," Pansy said. "Very un-Slytherin like."
"Yeah, if we didn't know better, we might think you liked him or something," Blaise taunted.
"Fuck off," he growled.
"There now. That's the Draco we all know and love."
The night progressed rather painfully, thanks to the weasel. He was clearly uncomfortable, and he made a point of projecting his discomfort on everyone else at the table. Potter kept trying, as did Pansy and Blaise, to start conversations with him. Draco knew it was pointless, and didn't bother.
Potter was fidgety, and everyone else was quiet.
"Blaise, would you care to dance?" Pansy asked.
"I'd love to," he said, relieved, and they left the three of them on their own. Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
"We're making some real headway with the potions, aren't we?" Potter asked.
Draco latched on to the conversation like a lifeline. "I'm hoping that one of these latest ones will do the trick. But if not, I have a few more options up my sleeve that we can try." Potter smiled and Draco did not swoon. Definitely not.
"What are those two doing?" the weasel asked suddenly. So suddenly that Draco jumped. "Twitchy there, are you ferret?"
"Ron!" Potter admonished him. Take that, weasel.
Keeping his voice as free from contempt as possible, Draco replied, "Actually, as it was the first time you've spoken all night, you just caught me off guard." He smiled at the stupid git to emphasise his point - that he had more class in his little finger than Ron would ever have.
Potter chuckled. "He has a point, Ron." Weasley scowled and something inside Draco did a dance. He was hungry. That must be it. Yes, definitely hungry. Because he surely wasn't rejoicing that Harry was taking his side against his friend. Wait! When did he become Harry? Potter. Right. That's better. "What was it that you said anyway?"
The weasel's frown deepened as he looked up onto the dance floor. "Those two, off to the right. What are they doing?" Draco saw nothing unusual on the dance floor, except ...
"Which two do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer and hoping for Harry's--Potter's sake that he was wrong.
"The two blokes over on the right."
Draco chanced a look at Ha--Potter. He was looking a little troubled. "It would appear as though they're dancing," Draco replied helpfully.
"No, really?" came the sarcastic retort. "I hadn't noticed."
"Well, you did ask what they were doing," Draco added through gritted teeth. "While I did think it was rather obvious, I answered your question anyway."
"Obviously I know they're dancing. But they're blokes. What are they doing dancing together?"
Draco resisted punching him. Strangely enough, hexing him didn't seem enough. As he caught Harry's - oh, fine, it's Harry now - discomfort out of the corner of his eye, he just wanted to pound the life out of the bastard. Instead, once again he took the high ground. Damn, but this forced proximity to the weasel would be the death of him, he was sure.
"Well, weasel," - no point being too polite - "you see ... sometimes men like other men. Surely you've heard of that?" He braced himself for the response.
Weasley seemed to ponder that. "Yeah, yeah, sure. It's not ... well, it's not that it bothers me or anything. It's just ... well ... usually blokes can't dance all that well even when they've got a bird helping them along. I mean, two blokes just ... well, it's not right. That's all."
Well. That wasn't quite the answer he was expecting. Perhaps the git wasn't as big an arse as Draco had thought. One look at Harry did nothing to make him relax, though. He still looked as tense as he had before the weasel had admitted that homosexuality didn't bother him. Maybe Harry hadn't caught that part.
He watched Harry wave the waitress over and whisper something to her. Shortly afterwards, with Pansy and Blaise back at the table, she returned with two shots of something blue and smoky for each of them. Harry gave an almost predatory smile that went directly to Draco's cock. "I think we should drink to finding a cure," - he winked at Draco - "and getting this arse out of my house and back home with Hermione where he belongs."
Everyone drank to that, even Weasley. In fact, he took it all in stride. It seemed that Draco was the only one to catch that tone in Harry's voice that said he was completely serious. And seriously pissed off.
Another toast. Then Blaise bought a double round and they toasted twice more. Then the unthinkable happened. Harry stood up and held his hand out to Draco. "Shall we show Ron just how right two blokes can be dancing?" Draco gaped at him. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He was about to say no, but then he locked eyes with Harry. Who was looking rather drunk, rather sweet, and very sexy. Fucking hell.
Instead of saying no, he found himself agreeing, smirking at the weasel, and avoiding eye contact with both Blaise and Pansy. And sweet Jesus, it was the perfect song too. If, you know, you were planning on bumping and grinding your way into shocking the shit out of your straight best mate. Which apparently Harry was.
Thank God he'd had four shots of that vile - but rather tasty - concoction. Had he not, he'd have been hard before they reached the dance floor from the anticipation alone. Then Harry turned around, smiled wickedly at Draco and took him in his arms. Oh, God.
~*~*~*~
Harry had listened as his friend, who was like a brother to him really, had gone on about the blokes dancing. He hadn't fooled Harry with his stupid explanation after Draco had urged him to clarify. And he had done it so well. Where Harry had felt a mixture of anger and hurt, and had wanted to lash out and deck Ron, Draco had merely outsmarted him. Come to think about it, Draco seemed to have done that an awful lot over the years.
Harry knew he wasn't being rational. He knew that having Ron live with him for all this time, with his moping around and his constant mess, had pushed him to the breaking point. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was probably over-reacting, but it had certainly seemed like he was more than just bothered by the blokes dancing.
Harry wasn't exactly the most practiced dancer, but he had improved vastly since the Yule Ball at school, what with all the special functions he'd been expected to attend, and the dance classes he had taken to make them more bearable. This, however, was something new. He knew he could do it, but figured a bit of liquid courage could go a long way. After all, he didn't think the shock of it all would stop Ron asking some more pointed questions. Might as well be as ready as he could be.
So, he'd bought a couple of rounds. His first toast went swimmingly, and Harry was pretty sure only Draco had taken the toast seriously. And Harry had meant every word. Interesting that of all people, Draco -- er, Malfoy -- would have picked up on it. He hoped he wasn't going to push their newly-discovered friendship too far, though.
Blaise bought a couple more rounds. Once Harry had downed those, he figured he'd better do it while he could still stand. So he asked Draco to dance. He saw the look of shock on ... well, on everyone's faces. But it was Draco's that bothered him. He softened his smile just a bit and looked earnestly at his friend -- Draco was his friend now, wasn't he? Draco said yes. Excellent. And then the most perfectly sinful song came on and Harry pulled him into his arms.
"Harry, are you sure about this?"
"You called me Harry."
"Yes, well, it is your name."
"Yes it is," Harry smiled. "And yes, I'm sure." He pulled Draco's body against his own and they started moving to the music.
Draco's hands were resting on Harry's shoulders as he whispered, "You don't have to do this. I think Weasley gets the point."
"Do you? I don't think so," Harry said as he glanced at his friend; Ron was staring wide-eyed at the two of them, possibly stunned into immobility. "Besides, I want to dance with you."
Draco's big grey eyes looked deeply into Harry's and suddenly it seemed like maybe there was more to what Harry had just said than he realised. "Y-you do?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied honestly. In for a knut, in for a galleon. "You're easily the hottest guy here. Why wouldn't I want to?" The look on Draco's face was worth it. He went from concerned to shocked to smug in a heartbeat. Oh, yeah. There was definitely more going on here than Harry had planned.
"Well, I am that," he agreed.
"So ... let's show 'em what we can do."
And show them they did. They were easily the hottest couple on the dance floor, not only dancing together as though they'd been doing it for years, their bodies moulding perfectly together, but grinding most provocatively. Harry was thankful that he'd had those drinks, or he'd have been hard as a rock by now. As it was, he was halfway there.
The music slowed and the two of them simply carried on like they were meant to be there, holding each other close. Harry could feel Draco's hot breath tickling his neck, and he felt himself falling. Something about having Draco there, in his arms, felt right, and Harry never wanted to let go.
He pulled away a bit, and ran his hands through Draco's hair to look into his eyes. What he saw there reflected what he was feeling, he was sure. They stood there for a few moments, the rest of the world fading away, just looking into each other's eyes, swaying to the music, when Draco whispered, "Kiss me, Harry."
Harry leaned down and brushed his lips tentatively over Draco's. It was soft, apprehensive, unsure. He pressed his lips to Draco's softly again. And again. And again. His lips were somehow softer than Harry had expected, sweeter. Then he licked a slow, teasing trail along Draco's lower lip and he felt Draco moan in delight as his lips parted. Slowly, softly and oh-so-sweetly Harry's tongue pressed forward to meet Draco's.
As their tongues began their own dance, their hands touched, caressed and explored. When Harry's hands reached down to cup Draco's arse and pull his hips closer, they both moaned, their erections rubbing against each other, sending a wave of pleasure shooting through Harry's body.
Suddenly, reality clicked in, as though a switch inside Harry's head had been flipped. What was he doing? His eyes fluttered open to see Draco looking as shaken as he felt. Oh, God. Harry's stomach lurched as he realised what he'd just done. He looked over at the table to see Ron's back as he exited the club. Pansy and Blaise looked pleased, but who knew what was going through the Slytherins' minds? Then Draco. Oh, God, Draco. Harry hadn't meant for anything like this to happen. They had just got past all that anger and hatred, and now he'd gone and done something so stupid.
"I --" he started, but had no idea what he was going to say.
That was the most incredible kiss I've ever experienced and I want to keep kissing you all night long? True, but impractical.
I want to hold you in my arms forever, forget the rest of the world, and make love to you for the rest of our lives? Way over the top, incredibly cheesy and sure to drive him away.
I think I'm falling for you, and I don't want to stop? Too much, too soon.
I'm screwed up and I don't want to drag you into something that will surely end up hurting you? That's a cop-out.
He felt his Gryffindor courage spill out of him and run screaming out the door as he took the coward's way out. "I ... I'm sorry, Draco. I ... I never meant for this to happen. I just ... I have to go." And he left the club before he said anything profoundly stupid.
~*~*~*~
"What happened?" Pansy asked as Draco arrived at the table.
"We danced. We kissed. He left."
"But fuck, Draco, you guys were hot out there," Blaise said, quite unhelpfully.
"No shit," he snapped. "I hadn't noticed."
"The whole club noticed," Blaise continued, clearly not knowing when to stop.
"Yeah, I rather think that's what occurred to Harry right before he took off."
"Oh, honey, I'm so --"
"If you say sorry, I may have to hex out your tongue." Pansy promptly shut her mouth, looking close to tears. Draco couldn't bring himself to care. "As for you," he said to Blaise, "next time I say not to push, perhaps you could remember this night and listen to me for a change."
"Draco, I'm s--"
"I'm going home." He left the club and Apparated home, the throbbing in his head having nothing to do with the music or the alcohol.
~*~*~*~
The next day Draco awoke slightly hung over but more clear-headed than he'd been for a long time. Better than he'd been ever since Harry fucking Potter walked back into his life. Oh, yes, he knew what he had to do. He would find that cure as quickly as possible - he really thought it was one of the formulas he and Har--Potter were working on. He would get it done, and Potter would be out of his life for good. If he ever needed anything again, he could go to some other apothecary. The ache in the pit of his stomach was nothing but a result of his over-indulgence the night before. Nothing else. Right.
He arrived to find himself blissfully alone. Well, almost. He checked in with Severus to discuss his progress on the potions and get his input. Unfortunately, he had another topic in mind.
"So I understand that you and Mr Potter had rather an eventful evening last night."
"I don't want to talk about it," Draco replied. "And how do you know these things?"
"I have my ways."
"Blaise."
"Mr Zabini paid me a visit at my portrait at the Ministry this morning, yes."
"Bastard."
"There's no need for --"
"No. What there's no need for is this conversation. I don't want to talk about it. Ever."
"It seems to me, Draco --"
"You know what? I don't give a kneazle's backside how it seems to you. My private life is just that - private. I came here to discuss the potions. Are you willing to do that, or shall I leave?"
"Very well then." Draco knew that he'd crossed the line and that he'd have to apologize later for his outburst, but thankfully Severus was too interested in the potions to press the issue.
Har--Potter arrived on time, but without the usual spring to his step. Thank Merlin for small miracles. They began to work in awkward silence, which suited Draco just fine. However, silence was not the order of the day, as it seemed that H--Potter too wanted to talk. Draco wanted to vomit. Preferably on Blaise's shoes. Better yet, in his shoes. Bastard.
"Draco, about last night --"
"Forget it, Potter." He saw him flinch at the use of his last name. Good.
"We haven't gone back to that now, have we? Just ... I just wanted to say I'm --"
"Fuck! What is with people wanting to say they're sorry?! Look, Potter, we danced, we kissed, you woke up to reality, you left. End of story. It's not like we had some grand love affair and our worlds got ripped apart. It was one kiss. I suggest you get over it. I know I have."
Harry looked stricken for a moment, and Draco's stomach did a bit of a flip. But then his face hardened. "Alright," he said. "What do you need me to do?"
Leave ... fuck off ... get out of my life ... all of the above ...
"Just get me some empty bottles from the store room."
~*~*~*~
After Harry had arrived home from the club, Ron had immediately speculated that he had been drunk and that Draco had somehow manipulated the situation into Harry kissing him. Not wanting to argue, Harry hadn't bothered to correct him. He'd made a mistake, letting his anger get the better of his judgement that night - what else was new? - but he wouldn't do that again. He wanted to tell Ron his own way, in his own time. And he wanted to wait until after Ron had returned to his own home. Sure, after that night Ron would wonder, but if he didn't know for sure, he was likely to remain silent.
Harry had gone to the shop the next day hoping to apologize to Draco for putting him in that situation, and then doing something so stupid. The last thing Draco needed was someone who had only just accepted who he was, but wasn't ready for the rest of the world to know. Draco was angry, but he seemed to have brushed it off. While it hurt to know that his feelings weren't reciprocated, Harry was glad to know that he wasn't toying with Draco's emotions in the process.
It took two more days before one of the formulas seemed to work. At least it worked on the blood sample they had from Fleur. Now it was just a matter of seeing if it worked on her. Draco and Harry went to Shell Cottage with the hopeful news. Things had got worse for her and Bill, and Fleur hadn't left the house for days. She nearly bowled them over with her excitement when they arrived.
It was a rather anti-climactic event when all was said and done. The formula worked, Fleur could once again go out in public, and Ron no longer swooned in her presence or lusted after her privately.
Harry went to visit Hermione after they'd ensured that Ron was no longer affected. As they had promised, neither Bill nor Fleur had told anyone what they had learned about Harry, respecting his wishes to tell everyone when he was ready. Harry told Hermione that day, to ensure she wouldn't judge Ron so harshly, and while she was surprised at the news, she also said it explained a lot. And she was sure that Ron would not give him any grief over it. Besides, if he did, she'd set him straight, so to speak.
Harry arrived at his own home to find Ron packing. "Thank Merlin that's all over now," Ron said as he prepared to return home. "Thanks for everything, Harry."
"It's not me you should be thanking," Harry said.
"What? The ferret?" Harry scowled at him. "It's his job. He did it for the money, pure and simple. He got paid; that's thanks enough for him."
"You really think so?" Harry asked incredulously. "You think that was the only reason he did it, when he's got more money than we'll ever have?"
"Well ... yeah."
"I can't believe you're so blind." Harry thought about what he had just said, and something fell into place. "I can't believe I've been so blind."
"What are you going on about?"
"Nothing." He would have plenty of time to talk to Ron later. Right now he needed to talk to someone else. "You can see yourself out, yeah?"
"Yeah, I've already sent most of my stuff back to the house, and 'Mione's waiting for me." He grinned widely. "We're going out to celebrate."
"Great. I'll talk to you later," Harry said as he Disapparated.
~*~*~*~
"Draco?" Harry had Apparated to the shop, hoping that Draco hadn't closed up for the night. The wards hadn't yet been reset to prevent him entry, so that was one thing. "Draco, are you here?"
"In the back," came a muffled reply. When Harry entered the back room, he could see why his voice sounded so odd. Draco was sipping on some Firewhiskey, and by the looks of things, he'd made a decent dent in the bottle.
"Celebrating?" Harry ventured.
"Yeah, sure," Draco said, his tone belying his words.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Why not?" Draco said. He waved his wand and another glass appeared. He poured Harry a good measuring of the whiskey, then topped up his own glass. "To success," he said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.
"Success," Harry agreed and took a sip.
"Careful with that," Draco pointed to the glass. "Wouldn't want you having too much. You never know what you might do."
"Draco, I'm sorry."
"What for? We did it. We figured it out. You paid me for my services, and now we can get back to our lives. Nothing to be sorry about."
Harry's chest tightened with guilt, and with pain. "Draco, I never meant --"
"I know that," Draco snapped. "Don't you think I know that? You never meant to spend time with me. You never meant to become friends with me. You surely never meant to kiss me. You never meant --"
"I never meant to hurt you," Harry interrupted. "I would never intentionally hurt you."
Draco snorted and swigged back the rest of his drink. He took the bottle and filled up his glass again. "Right, Harry. Like I could believe that. It's all we've ever done, you and I - hurt each other. Why should this be any different?"
Harry got up and walked over to Draco, putting his hands on his shoulders. He waited for Draco to look up at him. "Because I care about you."
"Why should I believe that?" he asked.
Harry leaned down and pressed his lips lightly against Draco's. "Because it's true," he said. When he leaned in to kiss him again, Draco pushed him away.
"Stop it, Harry!" he yelled, getting off his chair. "Don't fuck with me!"
Harry, steadying himself again, was not to be pushed away so easily. "I'm not. I won't," he said as he walked towards the blonde. Draco kept his distance, backing away every step Harry took. "I mean it, Draco. I care about you. More than I was willing to admit. More than is healthy, I'm sure."
"And what about your friends? What will they think? What about the weasel?"
"Well, Ron's gone back to Hermione," Harry said, approaching slowly but steadily. "And frankly, I don't really care what they think."
"Right," Draco said, his chin lifted in defiance. "That wasn't the case just the other --"
"I know, Draco, and I'm sorry. I mean it; I'm sorry. I didn't think I was ready for ... for this." He waved his hands between the two of them.
Draco frowned. "And just what is this?"
"I'm not really sure," Harry answered honestly. "What would you say it is?"
"Fucked up is what it is."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right." He caught up with Draco as the other man's back reached the wall. "But I can't help but want it just the same." He put his hands against the wall on either side of Draco's head and leaned in. "I can't help but want you," he whispered in Draco's ear, then nibbled on his earlobe. "I can't stop thinking about you." He kissed a path across Draco's jaw and down his neck.
"Really?" Draco asked, his voice shaky with what Harry hoped was desire.
He looked deeply into Draco's searching grey eyes and nodded. "Really."
Draco smiled. "Then kiss me, Harry."
Harry's heart leapt, and he did just that. This kiss, unlike their first, was not soft and tender, and wasn't lingering with hesitation. This one was forceful and passionate, and laid claim. It was teeth and tongues and lips and Merlin it was perfect. Harry leaned his body against Draco's, pressing him against the wall. Draco released a guttural moan as their erections rubbed against each other. This time, Harry didn't back away.
"Fuck," Harry replied, unable to contain himself as he broke their kiss for a moment. "I need you, Draco. Fuck, I want you so badly."
"Then take me, Harry."
That was all Harry needed to hear. He frantically divested Draco of his clothes, taking the opportunity to kiss as much of the freshly exposed skin along the way as he could. All the time, Draco was removing Harry's clothing, uttering an occasional Harry or fuck or right there or hurry.
"God, Harry, please." It was like music to Harry's ears. He pressed his naked groin against Draco's and they both whimpered at the contact. Harry grabbed both their cocks and began stroking them together. Fuck, it was the best feeling he'd ever experienced.
"Draco," he groaned before claiming the blonde's mouth in a searing kiss, pumping his hand now in earnest, and using his other to grasp Draco's arse. He felt Draco pull away from him, and he let out a sob. A very manly one.
Draco chuckled as he retrieved a jar from the desk drawer. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "What?" Draco asked. "I've been known to entertain myself on occasion when on my own at the office."
Harry laughed as he took the proffered jar and opened it. "As long as it's just you that was entertained," Harry said as he dipped his hand in and pulled out a geneorous quantity of the viscous substance.
"Jealous?" Draco asked.
Harry put the jar down and reached out with his free hand, pulling Draco in for a demanding kiss. "Insanely," he said.
Draco's eyes twinkled mischievously as he grinned at Harry. "Good." He kissed Harry and guided his hand down. Harry spread the lube over both their erections, and resumed stroking with renewed interest. It felt even better than before, and if the noises coming from Draco were any indication, he felt the same way.
Before long, Harry could feel his climax building, and Draco cried, "So close. So close." He put a hand to Harry's to stop the motion. "Want to come with you inside me."
Harry's heart leapt and his stomach flipped. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, I've never ..."
"I know, Harry. I'm sure. I want you to," Draco said. "Do you know --"
"Mm-hmm," Harry smiled. "Lots of reading material," he said as he grinned more widely and kissed Draco for all it was worth. Moving his lube-slicked hand between Draco's legs, he stroked his fingers along Draco's perineum and teased at his puckered entrance. Slowly and very gently, Harry inserted one finger. He let Draco guide him when to insert a second and then a third finger, stretching and loosening him as he went.
"Now, Harry," Draco growled. "Fuck me now."
Oh, God! That was the hottest thing Harry had ever heard in his life. He reached for the jar and slathered more lube on his now aching cock. Draco wrapped one leg around Harry's waist as Harry positioned himself.
He pressed forward slowly, feeling the ring of muscle give way and Draco's channel engulf him in heat. "Fuck," he whispered.
"That's the general idea," Draco joked as he adjusted to the intrusion. He kissed Harry softly then, their tongues gently weaving a sensual pattern that was Harry's undoing. "Move," he ordered.
Harry pulled back slowly, then pressed back in with restraint. "So tight," he said as he pulled back out again. "So hot," as he pressed forward again. He kept up the gruelling pace, beads of sweat now threatening to fall from his forehead, both of their bodies glistening. He didn't know how much longer he could hold back.
As though he could hear Harry's thoughts, Draco said, "Faster." Harry didn't need any more urging, as he increased the pace. It was the most intense experience of his life. Sex had never felt like this before. Nothing had ever felt this good, this right. There was nothing in the world but this feeling, and the sounds of their coupling, skin on skin, panting, moaning, and the occasional fuck, harder, or faster. Harry could feel his orgasm approaching and though he wanted it to last forever, he couldn't have stopped it if he tried.
He cried Draco's name as the waves of pleasure flowed over him. He continued to thrust as he felt his release fill Draco's channel. Draco was stroking his own cock and a few moments later, his come was spurting over their stomachs and he was calling Harry's name. As he felt Draco's contractions around his own cock, it was all Harry could do to remain standing.
Harry kissed Draco again, trying to convey everything he felt through his lips and tongue that he couldn't put into words just yet. Finding himself breathless, he reluctantly pulled away. Brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Draco's eyes, he leaned in and kissed him chastely on the forehead. "That was ..."
"Yeah, it was," Draco smiled.
Harry smiled back. In that moment, he knew that whatever the future held, however he would deal with it, Draco would be there with him. All was well.
~ FIN ~
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