Christmas Story 2018 - In the Spirit, part 20 - COMPLETE (H/D)
Title: In the Spirit - Part 20 - COMPLETE
Author: sesheta_66
Prompts used: slythindor100’s early bird prompt 9: towelled men hugging (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompt 31: ringing in the new year
Word Count: 4.1K
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry had a rough Christmas last year, to say the least. But things are looking up this year, and he plans to embrace the season, even if he is still single.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the slythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.
On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |
Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19
OR on AO3
[Part 20]
In the Spirit - Part 20
Back at Grimmauld after a long and less than productive day, Harry’s mind continued its battle. What am I doing? What are we doing? We’ve hated each other for years. Hate is a strong word. But we did. But that’s because you didn’t know each other. We knew what side we were on. But you were both manipulated by those closest to you. This can’t work. Why not? It’s bound to end in disaster. Why couldn’t it end in something glorious? We’re too different. Perhaps you’re just too much alike and you can’t see that.
Harry’s head hurt. He needed a pint. No, he didn’t. What he needed was a clear head. Tea. Tea was always good. Tea made everything better.
He made a pot, then sat down while it steeped. His mind, quite unhelpfully, kept replaying the morning’s events. The taste, the smell, the feel of Malfoy was all around him, closing in, threatening to suffocate him. But he’d gladly take it. What was breathing when he could have that?
Fuck. He was losing it. It had been so long. He was overcome with lust. That must be it. That and Luna’s attempts at getting them together playing with his thoughts. Why was that anyway? What did she think was so great about the prospect of Harry and Malfoy being together? Was it that they were the only gay men she knew? She was friends with both of them and, therefore, thought they’d work out, despite their long and combative history? And because they’d look good together?
None of that was good enough to base a relationship on. And Harry had been serious when he’d told Malfoy he didn’t do casual. He’d been out of his mind this morning. That was the only explanation.
His thoughts, jumbled as they had become, were interrupted by a tapping at the window. The same eagle owl from earlier waited patiently as Harry wondered what the note might say and how he would respond. Realising that there was no better way to find out than opening the window, he let it in and gave it a treat. He retrieved the letter and this time the owl remained. So ... a response was required.
"Potter, dinner at seven. RSVP. DM" An address completed the note. Dinner Harry could do. And if he kept his wits about him, he could sort this out. He’d just have to keep his libido in check. He closed his eyes, immediately relived the morning and groaned. That might be a tall order, especially once he was in Malfoy’s proximity. Scribbling his response in the affirmative, he attached the note to the owl’s leg, gave it another treat and sent it off. He looked at the clock. He had an hour. Right. Shower.
Fifty eight minutes later, Harry stood poised to apparate, willing his heart to stop racing. What was his problem? He was a senior Auror and had faced down Voldemort for god’s sake. He’d faced down Malfoy countless times before that. So why was he such a mess right now? Because, much as he didn’t want to admit it, this mattered. Though he’d been a part of Harry’s life for years - his entire life as a wizard - Malfoy had never before held such a position of importance. Yes, he’d been a key figure in Harry’s life, but never part of his inner circle. Never someone he’d allowed inside. But now he had. He groaned again. He was so screwed.
The neighbourhood was all magical, so he apparated directly in front of the house and rang the doorbell. Malfoy answered and Harry nearly lost it on the spot. His hair hung loosely, wisps grazing his eyes, and Harry’s fingers itched to run through the soft strands again. Fuck, this was a mistake. He hadn’t even stepped inside yet.
"Are you coming inside, or what?" Malfoy asked.
"Sorry. Yeah." As soon as he crossed the threshold, a most wonderful aroma invaded his nostrils and his mouth began to water. "Whatever you’re making smells delicious."
Malfoy smiled. "Veal parmesan. Comfort food and easy to make."
Harry followed him into the kitchen. "My kind of meal."
"Red or white?" Malfoy asked, holding up two bottles of wine.
Harry held up a hand. "Neither right now, thanks." When Malfoy put down the bottles, he said, "I was hoping we could talk, and I think I’d like to keep a clear head."
"Talk, hmm? I’m not sure if I like the sounds of that."
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck, then pulled it away quickly. He really needed to stop doing that. "I mean, what are we doing?"
"I thought we were having dinner."
"You know what I mean. This morning ..."
He turned around, filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove. With a wave of his wand, a flame blazed beneath it. He turned back to face Harry. "Am I going to regret leaving?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe?"
"No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose." He sighed. "Look, you didn’t seem bothered by what happened earlier - quite the opposite, in fact - and as I recall, neither of us was under the influence of alcohol."
"I know. It’s just that I meant what I said about the casual thing."
"As did I." He turned back to the stove and added some pasta to the pot before returning his attention to Harry. "And, even if it were a one-time thing, if it didn’t go any further, do you really think it would be casual?
Harry thought about that and shook his head. "At this point, given our past, no. But I still want to be sure we’re going in with eyes wide open."
"How could we be doing anything but that?" Malfoy reasoned, giving a stir to the pot before continuing. "We’ve known each other for fifteen years, give or take. I think we ought to know more than most going in."
"Fair point. But are we doing the right thing? Could we really make a go of this or are we just kidding ourselves?" Harry didn’t really know what Malfoy’s expectations were, but if this morning’s reaction was anything to go on, Harry was already falling. "I mean Luna thinks this would work, but why is that? Is it because we’re the only gay friends she has and she’d like to see us together?"
"You may have a point there, but this isn’t about Luna. It’s about us. You’ve heard her point out lots of things we have in common that have nothing to do with her, and without the threat of war hanging over our heads, we do seem to get along. Besides, we aren’t the same people we were in school."
"Thank god for that."
Malfoy laughed. "Indeed." He stirred the pasta again and turned off the oven. His expression turned serious as he said, "I have changed, you know."
Harry nodded. "I do know. And I have too."
"We have our history in common."
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "That’s just what I mean. Look at our history. We hated each other."
"Hate might be a bit strong."
"You tried to throw a Cruciatus curse at me and I nearly killed you in return."
"Yes, well ... not one of our stellar moments."
"Not - what?" Harry stood up and walked around the counter. Putting his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders, he stared into his eyes. "I sliced you open without even thinking about it. I was so stupid and you nearly died because of it."
"But I didn’t. As you said, I was about to Crucio you and you just reacted."
"I didn’t even know what the spell did. Who does that?"
"A scared kid, I’d imagine. Besides, I forgave you for that a long time ago."
Harry let go and stared at the ground. "There was so much blood."
Malfoy lifted Harry’s hands and placed them on his chest. "That happened a lifetime ago. And I’m very much alive. See? And that is thanks to you, I might add. You did save my life, you know, in case that fact has slipped your memory." He let Harry’s hands drop and turned back to the pasta. "And if you don’t mind, could we pick a less gruesome conversation to have while we eat?"
"Sure, sorry." They brought the food to the table and sat down. Harry inhaled and said, "I love Italian food."
"Full disclosure, Luna may have mentioned that in passing."
Harry chuckled. "Of course she did."
Malfoy grinned. "She really is determined, you know."
Harry helped himself to pasta. "I know. And there’s no denying that there’s something between us."
"Always has been, really," Malfoy added as he dished them both out some veal and sauce. "We just channelled it differently as kids."
"That’s one way to put it." But he was right. Harry took a mouthful of the veal and layers of flavour exploded in his mouth. Comfort food this may be, but it was amazing. "Mm," he moaned. "Malfoy, you are a culinary genius."
Malfoy laughed. "I wouldn’t go that far, and this is virtually foolproof, but I’ll take the compliment nonetheless."
"Seriously, this sauce is impressive."
"Family recipe."
"Malfoy or Black side?"
"House-elf side."
Harry snorted. "I can’t get Kreacher to share any recipes with me. He just says if I want it, I need only ask."
"I didn’t know you had a house-elf. I didn’t see him."
"Well, that’s the sign of a good elf, isn’t it?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "You’re having me on, aren’t you? Granger would string you up if she heard you say that."
"That she would." Harry sniggered. "Truth is Kreacher works at Hogwarts most of the year. I just call him back when I have a party or a special event to prepare for."
They ate in silence for a while before Malfoy said, "So, back on topic, minus the war stories. What do you want in a partner? Someone who challenges you or worships you?"
"Ugh, I’ve had enough blind worship for several lifetimes, thanks."
"Right. So what went wrong in your other relationships? What wouldn’t you want to repeat?"
Harry coughed. "You mean besides the wrong equipment?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, beyond the obvious."
"Well, I’ve never had a relationship with a man. And I was with Ginny, off and on since school." He looked longingly at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter and suddenly wished he hadn’t refused it. This was harder than he’d expected. Give the man credit, Malfoy hadn’t visibly reacted to Harry’s pronouncements. "And I wouldn’t really call the disaster back in school with Cho a relationship, so there’s not much to go on. One relationship with my best friend’s sister who’d idolised me since she was a kid, but grew up to be her own person. I don’t know what else to say."
"Don’t want to talk about it. Got it." Malfoy smirked. "Do you want kids? Do you like to travel? Do you love your job? Hate your job? Want to take over the world in some evil plot?"
Harry laughed. "Kids? Probably, if it’s possible. I love to travel, but I’ve had enough camping for a lifetime. I love my job most days, but hate the bureaucracy. And no, I have no current plans for world domination. How about you?"
"Let’s see. I like kids well enough, but I think that would be at least a few years down the road, if, as you say, it’s possible. I live to travel and I would never even consider camping. I do love my job, but then I’d have to or I wouldn’t be doing it. And the lack of bureaucracy is just one of the bonuses of being self-employed. And I too have no plans for world domination. That dream died with the unceremonious downfall of the previous Malfoy generation, thanks."
"No complaints from me."
"I should think not, since you were rather instrumental in said downfall."
"Ah, yes, so I was. Speaking of, you do know your father hates me. And I can’t say I hold him in much esteem either - his numerous attempts on my life rather soured me to him. Do you think you could be with someone your father hates?"
Malfoy took his time answering, staring down at where his hands rested on the table. "I have very little respect remaining for my father. He was a foolish man with delusions of grandeur whose actions very nearly lost all of us our lives. I was used as a pawn, as you well know, by a madman as revenge on him. I frankly don’t give a shit what he thinks because his opinion on most things means less than nothing to me these days."
That took Harry by surprise. Malfoy had idolised Lucius in school and had never missed an opportunity to let everyone else know of his father’s importance. Harry knew first hand that once a son’s perfect image of his father is shattered, it can knock the latter off his pedestal, but still. This was a bit more than Harry had expected, even if he agreed. Lucius was a vile human being.
"Don’t look so surprised," Malfoy said, his voice a bit shaky. "Besides, he wouldn’t accept any man in my life. Not the pureblood way, you see."
"Ah."
"That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, but it is done quietly, on the side of a legitimate marriage to a witch, one that will bear at least one heir."
"That’s horrible."
"Yes, well, fortunately I agree with you, or I’d be married by now, and both my wife and I would be utterly miserable, raising children who would eventually see through the farce and also be miserable."
Harry reached across the table and gave Malfoy’s hand a squeeze. "I’m sorry."
Malfoy shrugged. "Water under the bridge. I don’t respect him, he doesn’t respect me and we coexist for the benefit of my mother."
"How does she feel about all this?"
"She is entirely on my side, as she always has been."
"Smart woman."
Malfoy nodded. "But she and my father have been together for a long time. And they do love each other. So she’s stuck in the middle. I try to remain cordial with my father and I don’t bring anyone around to wave in front of his face. Not that there’s been anyone I’ve wanted to bring home anyway, but that’s beside the point. It works for us."
Harry gave his hand another squeeze before releasing it. "How about a glass of that wine now?"
"Fuck, yes," Malfoy said. Harry retrieved the bottle and two glasses and poured them each a generous serving. Harry had barely handed the glass over when Malfoy poured a quarter of the contents down his throat. "Not quite how I’d envisioned this night going."
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"No need to apologise. I get it. We have a history together. A not very pleasant one at that. I think this is a conversation we should have." He smiled at Harry, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He took another sip, this time smaller. "I just wasn’t expecting it to be right now."
Harry sipped his wine. "I’m also sorry I didn’t say yes to this wine earlier. It’s delicious."
"One of my favourites." He clinked his glass against Harry’s.
"We don’t have to talk anymore."
"No, it’s fine," he said, taking another sip before putting his glass down and refilling it. "I have alcohol now. I can talk about anything."
"Seriously, we don’t have to."
"I know. But I want to. Then maybe we never have to do this again."
"Okay?"
"So tell me, Potter, why did you pull me out of the fire? Why the hell would you risk your life for the likes of me? I’ve always wondered." He took another swig of wine.
"How could I not? You didn’t deserve to die, certainly not that way." Harry reached over and took his glass away. "Why didn’t you identify me back at the manor?"
"How do you know I recognised you?" Harry gave him a ‘come on’ look. "I suppose it was because you didn’t deserve to die, not that way. Not at his hand."
"Right, so we were both stupid sometimes, but did the right thing when it counted. End of story. And now you’re this highly successful potion maker, an amazing cook, a highly accomplished ice skater - still surprised by that, by the way - and great with kids. Well, with Teddy anyway. Who knew that insufferable kid would turn out to be a pretty great man?"
He grinned. "I’m gorgeous, too. Don’t forget that."
"I could never forget that."
"And you are on track to be the youngest Head Auror ever, poster boy for what’s right and true in this world, not half bad at whipping together breakfast, make a killer mulled wine, and the best kisser I’ve ever encountered."
"Don’t forget hot."
"No chance of that slipping my mind any time soon. So, Potter, what say you?"
It was inevitable that the night would end up this way. Harry wasn’t fooling himself or anyone else. Yes, they’d had to talk things through, but really, what did any of it matter. They were not the same kids they’d been at school. The war was years behind them. And many people had made a go of things on far less than they had. At least they knew what they were in for. Harry stood up, walked over to Malfoy and pulled him up so they were on a level. "Let’s see what that delicious tongue of yours can do."
This time Malfoy’s smile reached his eyes. "I thought you’d never ask."
Harry finally succumbed to the urge to run his hands through Malfoy’s hair then drew him in for a deep kiss. Their bodies melted together and he was lost once more. Lost in the feel and the taste of Malfoy. And Merlin, the sounds he made when Harry pressed against him, rolling his hips slowly, rubbing their lengths together.
"Bedroom," Malfoy said when they came up for air. He grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him along, stopping only when they reached his bed - a massive four-poster with forest green covers. Harry resisted the urge to make a Slytherin-related remark and found himself shoved back onto the bed. He became suddenly and wholly uninterested in how the rest of the room was adorned as he focussed all his attention on Malfoy unbuttoning his shirt. "Care to join me?" Malfoy asked as Harry continued to stare.
"Oh, right. Sorry. Got distracted." Malfoy grinned. He was gorgeous and he knew it. Harry liked that. Liked it a lot. He made short work of his shirt and tossed it unceremoniously aside, grabbing Malfoy by the arm and pulling him down. Their lips crashed together and Malfoy’s tongue plunged into his waiting mouth. There was nothing gentle or tentative about their kisses now. They screamed passion and Harry couldn’t get enough. Malfoy’s body writhed against Harry’s and Harry let his hands wander, discovering all the places that resulted in Malfoy making those delicious noises.
He reached down and grabbed Malfoy’s arse, pulling him in as he thrust his groin up. Their erections pressed together almost painfully and Harry hissed. "Fuck, you feel so good." He thrust up again and Malfoy moaned. God, Harry could listen to that all day long. "Too many clothes."
Malfoy licked and sucked his way down Harry’s neck and chest, taking his time to pay wonderful attention to each of Harry’s nipples before licking a path down to his navel. He pressed his tongue in and Harry arched in response. Malfoy lifted his head and looked straight at him. Harry was about to beg for more contact when Malfoy licked his lips and began undoing Harry’s trousers.
Harry lifted his hips to help when Malfoy lowered his trousers, but he didn’t take them off. Instead, he traced the outline of Harry’s cock through his briefs, first with kisses pressed to his length, then with his tongue and finally with his teeth. Harry writhed beneath him, desperate for more contact but enjoying the tease. Malfoy finally took pity on him and pulled his pants down as well, finally - finally - trailing his tongue directly over Harry’s length. He grasped Harry’s shaft and lifted it towards his mouth, circling the tip with his tongue. When he dipped the tip of his tongue into Harry’s slit, Harry’s head fell back and he gasped. "Fuck, you have an amazing tongue." Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he thought that this might be over embarrassingly soon with Malfoy’s tongue at work.
And then Malfoy’s finger rubbed against his entrance and Harry tensed. "Relax." He was utterly lost to sensation now and he gave in to the feeling. Relaxing, he felt one finger slide in while Malfoy’s mouth and his other hand worked Harry’s shaft until he couldn’t see straight. Then Malfoy’s finger nudged up against something inside and all Harry saw was white. He exploded in Malfoy’s mouth and still Malfoy kept working Harry’s shaft, licking and sucking until Harry’s oversensitised cock could take no more.
His body shook and he grasped at Malfoy’s hair, pulling him gently up for a kiss. He tasted his own essence on Malfoy’s tongue and fuck if that didn’t have his cock twitching in interest all over again. Not that it would be good for anything more for a while, but still. Harry reached between their bodies and grabbed Malfoy’s cock. It was already leaking and it didn’t take long before Malfoy came all over Harry’s stomach. Harry ran a finger through the mess and lifted it to his lips. When he sucked the finger into his mouth, Malfoy’s eyes flashed.
Harry silently called his wand to hand and waved away the mess, and they settled in to sleep, this time Malfoy draped over Harry. He grinned and they drifted off.
When they woke in the middle of the night, they had another go and Harry collapsed afterwards, wondering if he’d ever have the energy to walk again. He did. When Malfoy edged his way out of bed in the morning, he said, "Shower." When Harry nodded, he added, "Coming?"
Harry didn’t need asking twice and jumped out of the bed to join him. Shower sex is not nearly as glamorous as it’s made out to be, but after a few adjustments and a little bit of magical cushioning, they managed just fine. Afterwards, they leisurely lathered each other and managed to emerge very clean, despite all their activities.
Wrapped in towels, they made a pretty amazing picture in the mirror. "So, do you really think we can make this work?" Harry asked hopefully. Because he wanted to.
"Are you kidding? I was all set to try before we had sex. After the night and morning we’ve had, you’ll be really hard pressed to get rid of me."
Harry kissed his neck and breathed in his scent. "Same here. But that can’t be everything, right?"
"No, it can’t. But I’d say it’s not a bad start. Only that’s not where we started, is it? There’s a lot more to build this on than just the sex."
Harry thought about all they’d seen, all they’d done, their shared and separate histories and the way their current paths had crossed. "Yeah, there is."
"So, what are your plans for New Year’s Eve?"
"I hadn’t decided yet." Some of his friends were going to a club and some were going to a house party at George and Angelina’s. Harry hadn’t committed to anything. "But I’d like to ring in the new year with you."
"Works for me."
"You know, we probably should buy Luna a little thank you gift at some point."
Malfoy chuckled. "Probably. But would it be so terrible if we just enjoyed this for a little while, without letting others in? There’ll be plenty of time to tell people later."
Harry smiled and nibbled his earlobe. Malfoy shuddered. "Sensitive earlobes. Duly noted."
Malfoy laughed. "Seriously, though. Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself for a bit?"
"Be as selfish as you like." He turned Malfoy around and kissed him softly, tasting him all over again. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of kissing this man. "I think it’s a brilliant idea."
When, a few weeks later, Harry walked into George and Angelina’s with Malfoy, they met a wholly unsurprised crowd. When George inquired as to when, precisely, they’d started seeing each other, Malfoy looked puzzled. "A couple of days before Christmas," Harry answered.
George consulted a piece of parchment he had posted to the fridge. "That’ll be Hermione for the win, then." The rest of the room groaned as they passed cash her way.
Harry laughed and whispered into Draco’s ear, "Welcome to the family."
~ FIN ~
Author: sesheta_66
Prompts used: slythindor100’s early bird prompt 9: towelled men hugging (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompt 31: ringing in the new year
Word Count: 4.1K
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry had a rough Christmas last year, to say the least. But things are looking up this year, and he plans to embrace the season, even if he is still single.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the slythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.
On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |
Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19
OR on AO3
[Part 20]
In the Spirit - Part 20
Back at Grimmauld after a long and less than productive day, Harry’s mind continued its battle. What am I doing? What are we doing? We’ve hated each other for years. Hate is a strong word. But we did. But that’s because you didn’t know each other. We knew what side we were on. But you were both manipulated by those closest to you. This can’t work. Why not? It’s bound to end in disaster. Why couldn’t it end in something glorious? We’re too different. Perhaps you’re just too much alike and you can’t see that.
Harry’s head hurt. He needed a pint. No, he didn’t. What he needed was a clear head. Tea. Tea was always good. Tea made everything better.
He made a pot, then sat down while it steeped. His mind, quite unhelpfully, kept replaying the morning’s events. The taste, the smell, the feel of Malfoy was all around him, closing in, threatening to suffocate him. But he’d gladly take it. What was breathing when he could have that?
Fuck. He was losing it. It had been so long. He was overcome with lust. That must be it. That and Luna’s attempts at getting them together playing with his thoughts. Why was that anyway? What did she think was so great about the prospect of Harry and Malfoy being together? Was it that they were the only gay men she knew? She was friends with both of them and, therefore, thought they’d work out, despite their long and combative history? And because they’d look good together?
None of that was good enough to base a relationship on. And Harry had been serious when he’d told Malfoy he didn’t do casual. He’d been out of his mind this morning. That was the only explanation.
His thoughts, jumbled as they had become, were interrupted by a tapping at the window. The same eagle owl from earlier waited patiently as Harry wondered what the note might say and how he would respond. Realising that there was no better way to find out than opening the window, he let it in and gave it a treat. He retrieved the letter and this time the owl remained. So ... a response was required.
"Potter, dinner at seven. RSVP. DM" An address completed the note. Dinner Harry could do. And if he kept his wits about him, he could sort this out. He’d just have to keep his libido in check. He closed his eyes, immediately relived the morning and groaned. That might be a tall order, especially once he was in Malfoy’s proximity. Scribbling his response in the affirmative, he attached the note to the owl’s leg, gave it another treat and sent it off. He looked at the clock. He had an hour. Right. Shower.
Fifty eight minutes later, Harry stood poised to apparate, willing his heart to stop racing. What was his problem? He was a senior Auror and had faced down Voldemort for god’s sake. He’d faced down Malfoy countless times before that. So why was he such a mess right now? Because, much as he didn’t want to admit it, this mattered. Though he’d been a part of Harry’s life for years - his entire life as a wizard - Malfoy had never before held such a position of importance. Yes, he’d been a key figure in Harry’s life, but never part of his inner circle. Never someone he’d allowed inside. But now he had. He groaned again. He was so screwed.
The neighbourhood was all magical, so he apparated directly in front of the house and rang the doorbell. Malfoy answered and Harry nearly lost it on the spot. His hair hung loosely, wisps grazing his eyes, and Harry’s fingers itched to run through the soft strands again. Fuck, this was a mistake. He hadn’t even stepped inside yet.
"Are you coming inside, or what?" Malfoy asked.
"Sorry. Yeah." As soon as he crossed the threshold, a most wonderful aroma invaded his nostrils and his mouth began to water. "Whatever you’re making smells delicious."
Malfoy smiled. "Veal parmesan. Comfort food and easy to make."
Harry followed him into the kitchen. "My kind of meal."
"Red or white?" Malfoy asked, holding up two bottles of wine.
Harry held up a hand. "Neither right now, thanks." When Malfoy put down the bottles, he said, "I was hoping we could talk, and I think I’d like to keep a clear head."
"Talk, hmm? I’m not sure if I like the sounds of that."
Harry ran his hand over the back of his neck, then pulled it away quickly. He really needed to stop doing that. "I mean, what are we doing?"
"I thought we were having dinner."
"You know what I mean. This morning ..."
He turned around, filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove. With a wave of his wand, a flame blazed beneath it. He turned back to face Harry. "Am I going to regret leaving?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe?"
"No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose." He sighed. "Look, you didn’t seem bothered by what happened earlier - quite the opposite, in fact - and as I recall, neither of us was under the influence of alcohol."
"I know. It’s just that I meant what I said about the casual thing."
"As did I." He turned back to the stove and added some pasta to the pot before returning his attention to Harry. "And, even if it were a one-time thing, if it didn’t go any further, do you really think it would be casual?
Harry thought about that and shook his head. "At this point, given our past, no. But I still want to be sure we’re going in with eyes wide open."
"How could we be doing anything but that?" Malfoy reasoned, giving a stir to the pot before continuing. "We’ve known each other for fifteen years, give or take. I think we ought to know more than most going in."
"Fair point. But are we doing the right thing? Could we really make a go of this or are we just kidding ourselves?" Harry didn’t really know what Malfoy’s expectations were, but if this morning’s reaction was anything to go on, Harry was already falling. "I mean Luna thinks this would work, but why is that? Is it because we’re the only gay friends she has and she’d like to see us together?"
"You may have a point there, but this isn’t about Luna. It’s about us. You’ve heard her point out lots of things we have in common that have nothing to do with her, and without the threat of war hanging over our heads, we do seem to get along. Besides, we aren’t the same people we were in school."
"Thank god for that."
Malfoy laughed. "Indeed." He stirred the pasta again and turned off the oven. His expression turned serious as he said, "I have changed, you know."
Harry nodded. "I do know. And I have too."
"We have our history in common."
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "That’s just what I mean. Look at our history. We hated each other."
"Hate might be a bit strong."
"You tried to throw a Cruciatus curse at me and I nearly killed you in return."
"Yes, well ... not one of our stellar moments."
"Not - what?" Harry stood up and walked around the counter. Putting his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders, he stared into his eyes. "I sliced you open without even thinking about it. I was so stupid and you nearly died because of it."
"But I didn’t. As you said, I was about to Crucio you and you just reacted."
"I didn’t even know what the spell did. Who does that?"
"A scared kid, I’d imagine. Besides, I forgave you for that a long time ago."
Harry let go and stared at the ground. "There was so much blood."
Malfoy lifted Harry’s hands and placed them on his chest. "That happened a lifetime ago. And I’m very much alive. See? And that is thanks to you, I might add. You did save my life, you know, in case that fact has slipped your memory." He let Harry’s hands drop and turned back to the pasta. "And if you don’t mind, could we pick a less gruesome conversation to have while we eat?"
"Sure, sorry." They brought the food to the table and sat down. Harry inhaled and said, "I love Italian food."
"Full disclosure, Luna may have mentioned that in passing."
Harry chuckled. "Of course she did."
Malfoy grinned. "She really is determined, you know."
Harry helped himself to pasta. "I know. And there’s no denying that there’s something between us."
"Always has been, really," Malfoy added as he dished them both out some veal and sauce. "We just channelled it differently as kids."
"That’s one way to put it." But he was right. Harry took a mouthful of the veal and layers of flavour exploded in his mouth. Comfort food this may be, but it was amazing. "Mm," he moaned. "Malfoy, you are a culinary genius."
Malfoy laughed. "I wouldn’t go that far, and this is virtually foolproof, but I’ll take the compliment nonetheless."
"Seriously, this sauce is impressive."
"Family recipe."
"Malfoy or Black side?"
"House-elf side."
Harry snorted. "I can’t get Kreacher to share any recipes with me. He just says if I want it, I need only ask."
"I didn’t know you had a house-elf. I didn’t see him."
"Well, that’s the sign of a good elf, isn’t it?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "You’re having me on, aren’t you? Granger would string you up if she heard you say that."
"That she would." Harry sniggered. "Truth is Kreacher works at Hogwarts most of the year. I just call him back when I have a party or a special event to prepare for."
They ate in silence for a while before Malfoy said, "So, back on topic, minus the war stories. What do you want in a partner? Someone who challenges you or worships you?"
"Ugh, I’ve had enough blind worship for several lifetimes, thanks."
"Right. So what went wrong in your other relationships? What wouldn’t you want to repeat?"
Harry coughed. "You mean besides the wrong equipment?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, beyond the obvious."
"Well, I’ve never had a relationship with a man. And I was with Ginny, off and on since school." He looked longingly at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter and suddenly wished he hadn’t refused it. This was harder than he’d expected. Give the man credit, Malfoy hadn’t visibly reacted to Harry’s pronouncements. "And I wouldn’t really call the disaster back in school with Cho a relationship, so there’s not much to go on. One relationship with my best friend’s sister who’d idolised me since she was a kid, but grew up to be her own person. I don’t know what else to say."
"Don’t want to talk about it. Got it." Malfoy smirked. "Do you want kids? Do you like to travel? Do you love your job? Hate your job? Want to take over the world in some evil plot?"
Harry laughed. "Kids? Probably, if it’s possible. I love to travel, but I’ve had enough camping for a lifetime. I love my job most days, but hate the bureaucracy. And no, I have no current plans for world domination. How about you?"
"Let’s see. I like kids well enough, but I think that would be at least a few years down the road, if, as you say, it’s possible. I live to travel and I would never even consider camping. I do love my job, but then I’d have to or I wouldn’t be doing it. And the lack of bureaucracy is just one of the bonuses of being self-employed. And I too have no plans for world domination. That dream died with the unceremonious downfall of the previous Malfoy generation, thanks."
"No complaints from me."
"I should think not, since you were rather instrumental in said downfall."
"Ah, yes, so I was. Speaking of, you do know your father hates me. And I can’t say I hold him in much esteem either - his numerous attempts on my life rather soured me to him. Do you think you could be with someone your father hates?"
Malfoy took his time answering, staring down at where his hands rested on the table. "I have very little respect remaining for my father. He was a foolish man with delusions of grandeur whose actions very nearly lost all of us our lives. I was used as a pawn, as you well know, by a madman as revenge on him. I frankly don’t give a shit what he thinks because his opinion on most things means less than nothing to me these days."
That took Harry by surprise. Malfoy had idolised Lucius in school and had never missed an opportunity to let everyone else know of his father’s importance. Harry knew first hand that once a son’s perfect image of his father is shattered, it can knock the latter off his pedestal, but still. This was a bit more than Harry had expected, even if he agreed. Lucius was a vile human being.
"Don’t look so surprised," Malfoy said, his voice a bit shaky. "Besides, he wouldn’t accept any man in my life. Not the pureblood way, you see."
"Ah."
"That’s not to say it doesn’t happen, but it is done quietly, on the side of a legitimate marriage to a witch, one that will bear at least one heir."
"That’s horrible."
"Yes, well, fortunately I agree with you, or I’d be married by now, and both my wife and I would be utterly miserable, raising children who would eventually see through the farce and also be miserable."
Harry reached across the table and gave Malfoy’s hand a squeeze. "I’m sorry."
Malfoy shrugged. "Water under the bridge. I don’t respect him, he doesn’t respect me and we coexist for the benefit of my mother."
"How does she feel about all this?"
"She is entirely on my side, as she always has been."
"Smart woman."
Malfoy nodded. "But she and my father have been together for a long time. And they do love each other. So she’s stuck in the middle. I try to remain cordial with my father and I don’t bring anyone around to wave in front of his face. Not that there’s been anyone I’ve wanted to bring home anyway, but that’s beside the point. It works for us."
Harry gave his hand another squeeze before releasing it. "How about a glass of that wine now?"
"Fuck, yes," Malfoy said. Harry retrieved the bottle and two glasses and poured them each a generous serving. Harry had barely handed the glass over when Malfoy poured a quarter of the contents down his throat. "Not quite how I’d envisioned this night going."
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"No need to apologise. I get it. We have a history together. A not very pleasant one at that. I think this is a conversation we should have." He smiled at Harry, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He took another sip, this time smaller. "I just wasn’t expecting it to be right now."
Harry sipped his wine. "I’m also sorry I didn’t say yes to this wine earlier. It’s delicious."
"One of my favourites." He clinked his glass against Harry’s.
"We don’t have to talk anymore."
"No, it’s fine," he said, taking another sip before putting his glass down and refilling it. "I have alcohol now. I can talk about anything."
"Seriously, we don’t have to."
"I know. But I want to. Then maybe we never have to do this again."
"Okay?"
"So tell me, Potter, why did you pull me out of the fire? Why the hell would you risk your life for the likes of me? I’ve always wondered." He took another swig of wine.
"How could I not? You didn’t deserve to die, certainly not that way." Harry reached over and took his glass away. "Why didn’t you identify me back at the manor?"
"How do you know I recognised you?" Harry gave him a ‘come on’ look. "I suppose it was because you didn’t deserve to die, not that way. Not at his hand."
"Right, so we were both stupid sometimes, but did the right thing when it counted. End of story. And now you’re this highly successful potion maker, an amazing cook, a highly accomplished ice skater - still surprised by that, by the way - and great with kids. Well, with Teddy anyway. Who knew that insufferable kid would turn out to be a pretty great man?"
He grinned. "I’m gorgeous, too. Don’t forget that."
"I could never forget that."
"And you are on track to be the youngest Head Auror ever, poster boy for what’s right and true in this world, not half bad at whipping together breakfast, make a killer mulled wine, and the best kisser I’ve ever encountered."
"Don’t forget hot."
"No chance of that slipping my mind any time soon. So, Potter, what say you?"
It was inevitable that the night would end up this way. Harry wasn’t fooling himself or anyone else. Yes, they’d had to talk things through, but really, what did any of it matter. They were not the same kids they’d been at school. The war was years behind them. And many people had made a go of things on far less than they had. At least they knew what they were in for. Harry stood up, walked over to Malfoy and pulled him up so they were on a level. "Let’s see what that delicious tongue of yours can do."
This time Malfoy’s smile reached his eyes. "I thought you’d never ask."
Harry finally succumbed to the urge to run his hands through Malfoy’s hair then drew him in for a deep kiss. Their bodies melted together and he was lost once more. Lost in the feel and the taste of Malfoy. And Merlin, the sounds he made when Harry pressed against him, rolling his hips slowly, rubbing their lengths together.
"Bedroom," Malfoy said when they came up for air. He grabbed Harry by the hand and dragged him along, stopping only when they reached his bed - a massive four-poster with forest green covers. Harry resisted the urge to make a Slytherin-related remark and found himself shoved back onto the bed. He became suddenly and wholly uninterested in how the rest of the room was adorned as he focussed all his attention on Malfoy unbuttoning his shirt. "Care to join me?" Malfoy asked as Harry continued to stare.
"Oh, right. Sorry. Got distracted." Malfoy grinned. He was gorgeous and he knew it. Harry liked that. Liked it a lot. He made short work of his shirt and tossed it unceremoniously aside, grabbing Malfoy by the arm and pulling him down. Their lips crashed together and Malfoy’s tongue plunged into his waiting mouth. There was nothing gentle or tentative about their kisses now. They screamed passion and Harry couldn’t get enough. Malfoy’s body writhed against Harry’s and Harry let his hands wander, discovering all the places that resulted in Malfoy making those delicious noises.
He reached down and grabbed Malfoy’s arse, pulling him in as he thrust his groin up. Their erections pressed together almost painfully and Harry hissed. "Fuck, you feel so good." He thrust up again and Malfoy moaned. God, Harry could listen to that all day long. "Too many clothes."
Malfoy licked and sucked his way down Harry’s neck and chest, taking his time to pay wonderful attention to each of Harry’s nipples before licking a path down to his navel. He pressed his tongue in and Harry arched in response. Malfoy lifted his head and looked straight at him. Harry was about to beg for more contact when Malfoy licked his lips and began undoing Harry’s trousers.
Harry lifted his hips to help when Malfoy lowered his trousers, but he didn’t take them off. Instead, he traced the outline of Harry’s cock through his briefs, first with kisses pressed to his length, then with his tongue and finally with his teeth. Harry writhed beneath him, desperate for more contact but enjoying the tease. Malfoy finally took pity on him and pulled his pants down as well, finally - finally - trailing his tongue directly over Harry’s length. He grasped Harry’s shaft and lifted it towards his mouth, circling the tip with his tongue. When he dipped the tip of his tongue into Harry’s slit, Harry’s head fell back and he gasped. "Fuck, you have an amazing tongue." Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he thought that this might be over embarrassingly soon with Malfoy’s tongue at work.
And then Malfoy’s finger rubbed against his entrance and Harry tensed. "Relax." He was utterly lost to sensation now and he gave in to the feeling. Relaxing, he felt one finger slide in while Malfoy’s mouth and his other hand worked Harry’s shaft until he couldn’t see straight. Then Malfoy’s finger nudged up against something inside and all Harry saw was white. He exploded in Malfoy’s mouth and still Malfoy kept working Harry’s shaft, licking and sucking until Harry’s oversensitised cock could take no more.
His body shook and he grasped at Malfoy’s hair, pulling him gently up for a kiss. He tasted his own essence on Malfoy’s tongue and fuck if that didn’t have his cock twitching in interest all over again. Not that it would be good for anything more for a while, but still. Harry reached between their bodies and grabbed Malfoy’s cock. It was already leaking and it didn’t take long before Malfoy came all over Harry’s stomach. Harry ran a finger through the mess and lifted it to his lips. When he sucked the finger into his mouth, Malfoy’s eyes flashed.
Harry silently called his wand to hand and waved away the mess, and they settled in to sleep, this time Malfoy draped over Harry. He grinned and they drifted off.
When they woke in the middle of the night, they had another go and Harry collapsed afterwards, wondering if he’d ever have the energy to walk again. He did. When Malfoy edged his way out of bed in the morning, he said, "Shower." When Harry nodded, he added, "Coming?"
Harry didn’t need asking twice and jumped out of the bed to join him. Shower sex is not nearly as glamorous as it’s made out to be, but after a few adjustments and a little bit of magical cushioning, they managed just fine. Afterwards, they leisurely lathered each other and managed to emerge very clean, despite all their activities.
Wrapped in towels, they made a pretty amazing picture in the mirror. "So, do you really think we can make this work?" Harry asked hopefully. Because he wanted to.
"Are you kidding? I was all set to try before we had sex. After the night and morning we’ve had, you’ll be really hard pressed to get rid of me."
Harry kissed his neck and breathed in his scent. "Same here. But that can’t be everything, right?"
"No, it can’t. But I’d say it’s not a bad start. Only that’s not where we started, is it? There’s a lot more to build this on than just the sex."
Harry thought about all they’d seen, all they’d done, their shared and separate histories and the way their current paths had crossed. "Yeah, there is."
"So, what are your plans for New Year’s Eve?"
"I hadn’t decided yet." Some of his friends were going to a club and some were going to a house party at George and Angelina’s. Harry hadn’t committed to anything. "But I’d like to ring in the new year with you."
"Works for me."
"You know, we probably should buy Luna a little thank you gift at some point."
Malfoy chuckled. "Probably. But would it be so terrible if we just enjoyed this for a little while, without letting others in? There’ll be plenty of time to tell people later."
Harry smiled and nibbled his earlobe. Malfoy shuddered. "Sensitive earlobes. Duly noted."
Malfoy laughed. "Seriously, though. Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself for a bit?"
"Be as selfish as you like." He turned Malfoy around and kissed him softly, tasting him all over again. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of kissing this man. "I think it’s a brilliant idea."
When, a few weeks later, Harry walked into George and Angelina’s with Malfoy, they met a wholly unsurprised crowd. When George inquired as to when, precisely, they’d started seeing each other, Malfoy looked puzzled. "A couple of days before Christmas," Harry answered.
George consulted a piece of parchment he had posted to the fridge. "That’ll be Hermione for the win, then." The rest of the room groaned as they passed cash her way.
Harry laughed and whispered into Draco’s ear, "Welcome to the family."
~ FIN ~