Santa Baby | By : Seraphix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6708 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
~~~
Santa Baby
T’was the night before Christmas, and the
savior of the Wizarding world was not alone. He had planned to be, but his best
friends wouldn’t let him be.
The war had
ended eleven months ago, and they were fearful for the state of his mental
health, that he might give in to nightmares on this night when family should be
together. And so, when Harry Potter had refused to go to the Weasleys’ for Christmas this year and opted to stay in his
London penthouse instead, the youngest Weasley couple decided to forego family
time in the evening and spend it with their best friend, before they would
return home before the night was over to spend time with the rest of their
family.
Ron was
afraid that Harry would be plagued with thoughts of the war, while
Hermione…well, Hermione knew the truth about what was actually bothering Harry.
The truth
was, as Harry mused to himself while sitting on the thick fur rug in between
his two friends in front of the aptly roaring fire, he really hadn’t been
plagued with nightmares of slaughtering the Dark Lord, as Ron had assumed.
Rather, he had been plagued with other dreams, dreams that he couldn’t deny
that he enjoyed. Dreams that left him gasping, whining, moaning and screaming;
dreams that woke him up to hard-ons of epic
proportions, and sometimes, dreams that woke him up with him creaming his pants
like there was no tomorrow.
Dreams of a
fellow survivor of the war named Draco Malfoy.
And really,
he wished that Hermione and Ron would simply just go away and let him mope in
peace, drink himself sick and finally finish off the night wanking himself
silly to a newly planned fantasy which involved Draco, tinsel and copious
amounts of glittery lip gloss. At least amongst the two of them, Hermione
should be smart enough to do so.
But his
‘wonderful’ best friends simply wouldn’t let him be. They had turned up not
long ago, with presents and well-wishes, and had since then popped the bubbly
and sat him in front of the fire, trying to draw Harry into reminiscing with
them about their days in Hogwarts. However, all Harry did was stare blankly in the fire, entertaining himself with
thoughts of what Draco’s body would look like sitting where he was now, with
the shadows from the fire flickering over him. He gave an involuntary shudder,
and shifted his legs slightly to hide the impending arousal that would soon
rear its horny head.
***
Hermione,
not the hailed as the smartest witch in her time for nothing, noted Harry’s
fidgeting and it was all she could do not to laugh out loud. Ron hadn’t noticed
that there was something that made his leg twitch, and from the dreamy look on
Harry’s face, it definitely wasn’t the Cruciatus that
was making him move. Her fiancée was still rattling on about chess in the
Gryffindor common room, oblivious to the play of emotions that ran amok on
Harry’s face.
Desire, longing, dreaminess, sorrow.
She knew who
was making Harry feel like that. In fact, she had known for quite a long time. One
would have to be as blind as Ron Weasley to miss the looks that Harry had exchanged
with Draco Malfoy a month after Draco had officially announced his cross over
to the light, and it was even harder to miss the depression that Harry went
through when Draco laid in the school infirmary, unconscious, after taking a Cruciatus that was meant for Harry from the Dark Lord
during the final battle. The Dark Lord had held the Cruciatus
on Draco for almost a quarter of an hour after the mis-hit,
while Harry had battled the senior Malfoy who had prevented Harry from reaching
the blonde. Harry had dueled with Lucius, won, and
then killed the Dark Lord in a rage by strangling him, but by then, Draco had
been unconscious.
Yes, she had
known all the while, but Ron being Ron missed everything, and then a little
more.
And of
course, it was even more difficult to miss the horror on Harry’s face when
Draco had woken up, remembering everyone else but not Harry. Harry had to live
with the knowledge that the boy he desired more than anything in the world
didn’t remember him, and things got even worst when Draco, with the death of
his parents, was informally adopted into the Weasley family, though this was by
the twins. He invested his money into the twin’s joke shop, helping them out
with ideas and the development of potions for their products. Harry, being one
of the founders, as Fred often said, of the joke shop, had to sit through
meetings with Draco once every week. A Draco who smiled politely at him, made
tea for all four of them, then left the meetings
saying, “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again, Mr
Potter.”
After the
first meeting which ended so formally, Hermione had turned up at Harry’s
penthouse with the intention of returning a book she borrowed from him, but
found her best friend crying in his room. She had forced a confession out of
him, and that was when Harry started telling her more.
She learnt
that sometimes they would go for a meal together after meetings for the shop,
just a casual lunch or dinner between Draco and ‘Mr
Potter’, because Draco refused to call him anything else, saying that in the
case for such a war hero, it would be too disrespectful to call him anything
else other than that. They would talk about inconsequential things, like
Quidditch or the weather, or who’s dating who from Hogwarts. Sometimes, they
would talk about things like Draco’s childhood, or Harry’s love for flying. But
never once did Draco show that he felt anything other than camaraderie for
Harry.
It was a
struggle watching Harry push his emotions under and go on with daily life.
The meals
usually lasted around three hours, since both boys did not have much to do
these days. Then they would end, all too soon for the taste of Harry, and Harry
would go home, fire call Hermione, then with shining eyes, tell Hermione about
why Draco’s favorite Quidditch team was Montrose Magpies or that he had a
stuffed dragon in his younger days which he called Green, when it really had a
shining coat of soft, silver fur. She remembered how widely Harry smiled when
he told her why. It turned out that Draco had grown up hearing magical stories
of a boy name Harry Potter told to him by his nanny, and he had wanted to name
his dragon Harry. But as he had been slapped the only time he tried to ask his
father for information about the Boy Wonder, he decided to call it Green instead,
which was the color of Harry’s eyes.
Harry
couldn’t stop talking about how adorable Draco’s blush was when he told the
story.
Hermione
could understand why Harry didn’t want to spend Christmas playing ‘Happy
Families’ with the Weasleys. It hurt a lot less when
it wasn’t thrown in your face that the person you weren’t with the person you
love. And so she had convinced Ron, who had accepted Draco as one of his
brothers’ business partners but not a friend yet, to come over and keep Harry
company by saying that Harry might have night mares. Yet here Harry was,
obviously not in the same room as they were in even though he was sitting
snugly in between them.
It was
certainly a tragedy.
***
“…and oh,
Harry, the twins said that they have a present for you that would come later
tonight. So don’t be surprised to receive something just standing at the door.
They said it would reach later tonight, and to just follow the instructions
given to have fun with it,” said Ron as he was leaving Harry’s place.
“Happy
Christmas, mate. Don’t let your thoughts get you down. And feel free to pop by
anytime tonight if you’re up to it.”
***
Harry
slumped onto his sofa which had a thick, woolen rug draped upon it after
Hermione and Ron had left. Finally. Alone
to his thoughts and his right hand.
He proper
his legs up on the coffee table in front of him, undid his pants and took his
semi-hard member out. Staring at the rug in front of the fire, he could almost,
just almost see a reclining figure with pale skin and fair hair, all in the
nude. The apparition was currently running one hand up and down its torso, the
other stroking its member with fleeting strokes. But most of all, the
apparition was gazing straight into Harry’s eyes, lips in a moue and eyes with
the hot, hot come-hither look.
Harry traced
his right index finger down his now painfully hard arousal, then wrapped his
hand around it and started stroking it firmly. He begin
to bite his lower lip to stay quiet out of habit from staying in dorm rooms,
then it struck him.
Hell, it’s
Christmas and I’m alone in my apartment. I can make all the fucking noise I
want to.
And with
that he stopped his torture on his lip and started moaning loudly, gasping when
he ran his thumb over the tip of his member. He didn’t last long, not with the apparition
writhing and squirming on the floor. And just before he reached his climax…
“Ding dong!”
Harry’s
member swiftly went flaccid again, as thoughts of Ron or Hermione standing at
the doorway swiftly took over his mind. The apparition disappeared as the
doorbell rang, and Harry groaned in frustration as he let loose a string of
very creative curses. He hastily tucked himself into his pants, hissing as the
sensitive flesh was shoved back into his pants while he ran to open the door.
“Shit fuck wanker which fucking arsehole would come and…Oh.”
There wasn’t
anyone in the doorway, only a huge box wrapped in festive colors and tied with
a huge, red bow. There was a card on the box, and Harry reached for it,
wondering if this was the present from the twins that Ron had been talking
about.
Dear Harry,
Happy
Christmas! This should be the solution to your moping and sexual frustration.
(Mate, don’t deny it. We can FEEL what you were doing before opening the door.)
Anyway, we’re proud to present, from Weasley’s
Wizarding Wheezes, our custom made musical box! We’re sure it’ll bring a smile
to your face!
Love,
Fred and George
(ps. You might get more than a smile off this mate…)
Harry looked
at the box suspiciously. Fred and George’s contributions during the war
consisted mainly not of field work, but behind the scenes as they worked
feverishly with Snape to create potions, spells and hexes and other devices
that would assist the order during the war. Their abilities had even garnered the
grudging respect of the Potions Master, so Harry knew better than to
underestimate their abilities when it came to pranks. If they could push a side
to victory with their ingenuity, making him insane this Christmas wouldn’t be a
hard task. In fact, they tried to drive him nuts in his daily life as well.
After they found out about his feelings for Draco, they couldn’t stop teasing
him and made sure he was sat cozily next to the blonde every, single, meeting.
He stepped back and leaned against the door frame, trying to assess what to do
with his latest Christmas present.
All of a
sudden, the box shot forward on its own, pushing past Harry who yelped in an
extremely undignified manner as he was shoved into the wall. The door slammed
itself shut, and as if he was tied on a leash to the box, he was pulled along.
The box slid along the hallway and finally came to a stop in front of the
coffee table, where it shoved the table aside and settled down in front of the
sofa. Harry, on the other hand, was unceremoniously flung onto the sofa, still
clutching tightly to the note from the twins, which had started to heat up in
his hand.
He opened
the card again, only to see more words appearing under the words he had read.
Harry my man, we knew that you would be suspicious of it, so we put a
charm on it to drag you into your living room with the present. Don’t think so
much will you? Just for tonight, let go and take a risk!
Harry took a
deep breath. What the hell, he
thought. Christmas this year couldn’t
possibly get any worse than sitting at home alone and wanking to my
imagination. Bearing that thought in mind, he pulled the box nearer to him,
untied the bow, and ripped off the wrapping paper. Then holding his breath, he
opened the box and found…
A pair of
silvery grey eyes staring right up at him…
Pink lips covered
with glitter curved into a coy smile…
Sharp
cheekbones framed with chin-length soft blonde hair with a floppy Christmas hat
on…
Knees drawn
up to chest, that delectable body dressed in a female Santa suit…
Am I hallucinating? Harry shut his eyes tightly and
opened them again. Nope. Hasn’t changed. Draco’s still in my living room sitting in a
box smiling up at me.
With that,
Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped into the sofa.
***
From Draco’s
point of view, it was really quite amusing, watching how the savior of the
Wizarding world fainted when he saw his present. But still, it did nothing to
help him out with his and the twins’ plan tonight. And really, tonight was
supposed to be Harry’s night, and so he felt around the base of the box, and on
finding his wand, he stuck his arm out and pointed it at Harry.
“Enervate!”
***
Harry
blinked and sputtered as he came back to consciousness. He rubbed his eyes
hard, not believing that the boy of his dreams was currently sitting in his
living room, though perhaps crouched or curled-up might be a better
description. He stared hard, and Draco, deciding that Harry was really not up
to the task of initiating the first move, offered up his right hand to Harry
shyly.
“Help me up?”
he said in barely more than a whisper.
Harry was in
shock. He nodded frantically, before standing up and slipping his hand into
Draco’s and pulled him out of the box…
A little
over-enthusiastically, as the next thing Harry knew, he found himself back onto
the sofa with an armful of gold and red. He blushed crimson, stuttering his
apologies as he looked down at the smirking face which was somewhere in the
vicinity of his chest. Draco knelt up such that he was straddling Harry’s
thighs, before placing his palms flat on Harry’s chest and pushing himself off
the brunette and standing up, then brushing himself off as if he had gotten
some dirt on himself and smoothing down the impossibly short skirt of outfit.
Draco took a step back, smirk changing back to a coy smile directed at Harry,
who had just realized that Draco was wearing knee high red snow boots with
white fur lining the edges that completed the outfit.
At this
point in time, Harry found that only one part of his anatomy was not frozen
enough by Draco’s presence to respond to his outfit, and needless to say, this
part of him was rapidly stiffening up.
Harry tried
to speak, but after opening and closing his mouth several times, he realized
that nothing was going to make its way out from his mouth, at least not with
his brain in such a shell-shocked state. He had so many questions to ask, the
foremost being why was Draco in his house. Of course, other questions soon made
their way to his consciousness, such as what Draco was wearing under his short
skirt, if Draco’s birthday suit did look what he had envisioned it to be, and
screaming along somewhere was the question as to why he was still frozen and
not making a move to pull the delicious looking boy down and snog him silly.
Or, even
better, shag him silly.
However, all
but one question fled his mind when Draco turned around, and with his back
facing Harry, bent over to take something out of the box. Harry felt his
arousal harden to extremes as Draco’s short skirt rode up to reveal…
Butt cheeks.
Harry felt
the floodgates give way as blood trickled out of his nose. Oh god, this is way too much to take in one sitting! Pale, perfect
butt cheeks with the thin strips of black cloth, so clearly visible against the
pale skin only meant one thing.
That the
answer to his question of what Draco wore under his outfit was nothing but a
THONG.
Good lord,
what he wouldn’t give to see the front of that little strip of cloth. And as
Draco was rummaging the box for whatever he was looking for, the beautiful
bottom was just wriggling and moving in front of his face. Harry, at that
moment, felt that he could die a happy man if Voldemort was to resurrect
himself and walk right in through the door. But it was over all too soon as
Draco stood up straight again, reappearing from the large box with twirling his
wand in his long fingers. Harry raised his hand to wipe the blood away from his
upper lip as Draco walked towards the Christmas tree next to the fireplace,
long legs walking in small steps, his hips swaying from side to side.
Oh god oh god OH GOD, thought Harry as he watched the
tantalizing sight in front of him. What
is he doing?!
Harry
pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the blood flow and it was only then that
he found his voice. A dry throat, uncertain sound, but a voice nevertheless.
“Draco?
What…”
Draco spun
around sharply and smiled at Harry again, and placed a long finger to his
glittery lips and shushed Harry up. As he did so, his little skirt flared up
again, revealing a glimpse of pale flesh and black lace, not enough to give
confirmation of any sight but sufficient to send Harry’s imagination on a
roller coaster ride.
Harry
pinched his nose a little harder, feeling the pressure within rise. He fumbled
for his wand, and on finding it, spelled the blood on his upper lip away and a
quick healing spell to stop the bleeding.
“Shh. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”
With that he
waved his wand, and strains of music began to float through the room. He then
placed his wand on the ledge above the fireplace.
“This should
do,” the blonde muttered to himself.
Draco
arranged his body such that he was partially hidden by the branches of the
tree, looking like a creature straight out from Fairyland to Harry. The twinkling
lights in the tree only added to the effect, and the
glow from the fire…
Merlin.
The only word to describe Draco at the moment would be ‘ethereal’.
Harry stared
at the blonde with his mouth open and gaping. His nose had stopped bleeding
now, but his mouth couldn't help but twitch into a smile as he watched Draco
blush and duck his head, as if he was about to say or do something
embarrassing. Then a look of determination crossed the blonde's face, and he
took a deep breath.
At that
moment, the lights in the room dimmed to such an extent that the only source of
light in the room was from the fire place. Simultaneously, the strains of music
got louder, and after a moment's pause, Draco started to sing.
"Santa
baby, put a Harry under the tree, for me.
Been an
awful good boy
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight."
Draco's
voice had a throaty, husky quality to it. His voice started off low and
uncertain, but by the second line, it had gained confidence and together with
it a seductive tone. Harry swallowed as he watched Draco slip gracefully out
from between the tree and the fire place, like a sleek blonde Persian cat,
before he came to a stop at the tall barstool across the living room. He
reached up to the glass holder above the counter and took down a wineglass,
before hoping onto the barstool, crossing his legs and lowering his eyelids to
half-mast and peering at Harry.
“Santa baby, a Harry Potter over for wine, with me,
I'll wait up for you dear
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”
As he sang the lyrics this time, Draco ran a finger sensually around the rim of the wineglass. At this, Harry swore on his parents’ graves that he could feel the touch of the finger ghosting up the underside of his stiff member. He tried to pull his legs closer together as inconspicuously as possible to prevent Draco from noticing the action, but the slight twitch of Draco’s lips told him that he had failed. That was when Draco decided to uncross his long, bare legs, ala Fatal Attraction style.
Harry stared wide-eyed at the visual treat he was given, the tiny piece of lace that covered Draco’s…
And then the sight was gone all too soon.
Harry sighed.
Draco
slipped off the barstool, his skirt lifting riding up slightly again, and
Harry’s libido rising not so slightly. The blonde stalked forward until he was
right in front of Harry and bent forward, bracing himself with one arm resting
on Harry’s shoulder. Harry shuddered slightly at the closeness, but at the same
time, he was shivering with anticipation at what would happen next.
“Think of
all, the fun I’ve missed.”
Draco ran a
teasing finger down Harry’s sternum…
“Think of
all the fellows that I haven’t kissed.”
The blonde
leaned forward and allowed his hair to tickle Harry’s cheek, while his lips
brushed ever so gently over the shell of his ear. As giddy as he felt at this
moment, Harry couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at the thought of all
the fellows that Draco HAD kissed.
“Next year,
I can be as good,”
He stood up
straight, and lifted his right leg such that one foot was stepping on the sofa
just next to where Harry was seating.
This gave
Harry a clear view of what had been eluding his sight the entire night. The tiny
bit of lace barely covered Draco’s member, which was clearly aroused as well.
In order to not appear like a pervert, he tore his eyes away from the arousal,
but as he looked up at Draco again, an amused smile told him that his
perverseness had already stood up and announced its presence.
“If you checked off my Christmas list.”
Harry
thought he was going to pass out again, as when Draco sang the last line of the
stanza, he pushed the hem of his skirt all the way up to his hip and pulled out
a scroll that was trapped between the strap of his thong and his hip bone, and
then swiftly unbutton Harry’s fly and slipped the scroll in.
Harry
groaned out loud. As Draco stood up again, he pulled the scroll out from his
pants and placed it next to him on the rug, not wanting to look like he had a
paper erection sticking out of his pants for the rest of the night, then
buttoned his pants shut just in case his erection wanted to make an appearance
in the room too.
“Santa baby, I want my Harry and really that’s not, a lot
Been an angel all year
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight”
This verse was done simply, with Draco backing away from Harry and standing on the rug in front of the fireplace, his feet turned toes in and one finger pulling his lower lip into a gentle pout. Sure, Draco still exuded the sensuality that he did before. Hell, from Harry’s point of view, Draco even exuded sensuality when he laid in a coma. But later on, when Harry looked back on Draco’s little performance, he would say that this was his favorite part of all, for Draco, illuminated by the glow of the flames behind him, looked like a cross between an avenging angel and an innocent child. And it would be the innocence that he exuded at this moment which made Harry fall in love with him all over again.
I’m in love, aren’t I?
“Santa
honey, a king-sized bed and lots of pillows, for me,
With Harry
on satin sheets,
Santa cutie, so hurry down the chimney to me.”
Draco had
then walked over to the reclining leather chair which was set at an angle to
where Harry was sitting. He laid down on the chair and
arched his back, closing his eyes sensually and bending his right leg at his
knee. Draco seemed to have realized that Harry’s reactions were greatest when
his skirt rode up, and appeared intent on exploiting this weakness as far as
possible.
He wasn’t disappointed
by his own efforts, not when he heard, rather than saw, Harry’s rearranging of
legs that were accompanied by a sharp hiss as the material of his linen pants
rubbed against his arousal. Harry’s hands were gripping tightly on to the edge
of the sofa, as the young savior tried desperately to keep his hormones under
control.
Draco then
returned to where Harry was sitting, and he sat himself down on Harry’s thighs.
Right on top of Harry’s crotch.
Harry stared
in wonder at the angel on his lap.
“Santa baby,
a Harry drippin’ with chocolate sauce, tonight
I wanna lick it all off.
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.”
Harry was
too far gone to realize, and so his lips parted and gave a very audible moan as
he followed the tip of Draco’s tongue that swiped at the glitter on those pink
lips. The moan escalated in volume exponentially as Draco lifted Harry’s left
hand to his lips, and swiped his tongue across the palm.
“Come and trim my Christmas tree,”
Draco separated himself from Harry and was now standing next to the Christmas tree.
“With some decorations bought at Diagon Alley.”
He curled his fingers around one of the giant, six inch long candy canes, which Fred had insisted he bought just two days ago, decorating the tree, and lightly pulled on it. The cane was near the height of Draco’s face, and he leaned in such that his face was extremely near to the candy cane, while still tugging lightly on it. Not hard enough pull the piece of candy off the tree, but hard enough to make the tree shake slightly.
On the couch, Harry was doing a pretty good imitation of the tree. He had given in to his hormones, and was now palming his erection through his pants, trying to alleviate some of the tension within his member. He felt that if Draco even tried to take a lick of the candy cane, he would simply explode in his pants.
But thank Morgana, he didn’t.
Not that it made his situation any better.
“I really do believe in you,”
Harry was palming himself hard, as Draco stepped away from the candy cane and lowered his eyelashes once again, but this time, fluttering them so that with the glow of the fire, they cast little wing like shadows on his high cheekbones.
“Let's see if you believe in me.”
Draco resumed his spot on the rug in front of the fireplace, but instead of standing this time, he flopped down adorably to sit on the rug with his legs turned outwards. At this moment, the music in the background started to slow down…
“Santa baby, a Harry by my side just for me, lying
Close to me and cuddling me,
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”
Draco stared straight into Harry’s eyes as he sang the verse, his voice slightly choked, as if he was trying to block out the emotion that was creeping in. His slivery grey eyes were shining brightly, while his voice got softer and softer. He rearranged his body such that by the end of the verse, he was lying down on the rug on his side, but he never broke his eye contact with Harry. Harry could feel himself lose control with the intensity in Draco’s eyes.
“Hurry down the chimney tonight.”
Draco closed his eyes, and slipped a hand under the skirt.
“Hurry…down…tonight…”
His voice, barely a whisper now,
ended with a gasp as his fingers reach their destination, and his eyes flew
open and he gazed straight into Harry’s, a seductive smirk on his lips.
Harry stared in amazement into the
silvery grey eyes, as the music playing faded into nothingness. He was so, so
in love.
***
Not breaking
his eye contact with Draco, Harry stood up slowly from his seat and walked over
to where Draco was lying down. It was almost as if he was afraid that if he
blinked, or moved too fast, Draco would just disappear. He knelt down pushing
Draco gently onto his back, then bent over and placed a soft, chaste kiss onto
Draco’s lips. It wasn’t an electric shock which ran through them, but a quiet warmth that spread sweetly from their point of
contact. They separated for a moment, looking deeply into each others’ eyes,
before they came together again for a deeper, more passionate kiss. Their eyes
were closed now, and Draco reached up and gently caressed the back of Harry’s
neck, while Harry slipped his arm behind Draco’s back, and lifted his upper body
so that they could be closer, and Harry shifted them, until Draco was finally
sitting on Harry’s lap.
Harry pulled
back, and the expression he saw on Draco’s face made him realize that his whole
life had been simply leading up to this moment. Draco’s eyes were still closed,
his long, feathery eyelashes resting on finely carved cheekbones. His lips were
curved into a gentle smile, and he radiated an aura of peace and happiness,
like he was getting a treat that he had been wanting for a long time, like he
had finally found peace.
Then Draco
opened his mouth, and for the first time since he woke up from his coma, he
whispered…
“Harry…”
Harry almost
cried from the joy that he felt surging through him. He had spent months trying
to convince Draco to call him by his given name, and not Mr
Potter, but it was all to no avail. Draco Malfoy after the war refused to call
him anything by Mr Potter, and it had broken his
heart, for each time he heard he, he was reminded that Draco did not remember
anything about him from before the war. But since he just called Harry ‘Harry’,
that would mean that he remembered. Harry tried to push down the hope that was
soaring in him, as he didn’t want to face the disappointment if his hypothesis
was wrong. He desperately wanted the snarky, witty
boy back, not the polite, aloof stranger that appeared after the war. Sure,
they were good friends that saw each other once a week and spent several hours
together because of business, but there wasn’t the passion that burnt between
them when they were back in Hogwarts.
But he had
to know. Merlin knew that he HAD to know.
“Draco?” he
asked hesitantly. “Do you remember? Or is this just…” he trailed off, unable to
say more.
Draco
nuzzled his face into Harry’s neck, and tightened his hold around the
brunette’s waist. Then he begin to speak in that low,
husky voice of his.
“I remember,
Harry, I remember everything.”
“How?”
“Last
week…remember when Fred and George wrote to you to cancel our meeting, saying
that they had to help their mom out with Christmas? The truth is, I had been
working with them on daydreaming potion which allowed the drinker to relive
some moments in his life that he chose to.“
“As we had worked together to make the potion, I had
confidence in it and volunteered myself for testing, and the moment I had in
mind was when I was first on a broom. We had left the potion to simmer, but
unknown to us, someone, probably one of the workers in the shop, came down to
the lab while we were out and accidentally knocked a whole extra bottle of
ginkgo nuts into the potion, and didn’t say anything.”
“We never noticed the fallen bottle, not until later on
after I had consumed it. I took the potion, and then I blacked out and fell
unconscious. Fred took me to St Mungo’s, where I woke
up a couple of hours later, completely fine save for the fact that I felt that
my head was going to burst with the influx of memories.”
“Memories?”
“Yes Harry, memories of you. Memories of being fitted for
robes before we even entered school, memories of Quidditch, memories of glaring
at you, then even more memories of staring at you with an inexplicable
tightening in my chest just months before the war…”
Draco broke his rambling with a blush and looked away,
staring into the fire as he tried to avoid Harry’s gaze. Harry felt the
overwhelming happiness within him, and he tighten his hold around the blonde
with this right hand, then reached up with his left to turn Draco’s face back
to face him, forcing Draco’s eyes to meet his. He had so much to say to him,
and there was so much he wanted to know. He wanted to tell Draco about all his
little ways that made him fall in love with him, the little things the Malfoy
heir did to make him smile. He wanted to know everything about Draco, not Malfoy,
which Draco would let Harry, not Mr Potter, know, and
he wanted to know if Draco would be willing to share everything with him. He
wanted to tell Draco how he wanted to bring him out to Diagon
Alley, hold hands with him and kiss him at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor over sundaes.
Generally, he wanted to shout it out to the world that Draco
Malfoy was his.
But when Draco’s eyes finally met his again, Harry felt the
words disappear, and his mind was a blank for the moment. All that he could
think of was that after knowing Draco for so many years, this was the first
time he was seeing him so vulnerable, so unguarded. Harry knew exactly what was
running through Draco’s mind. It was the Hogwarts Express in his first year
again. Draco was offering his hand to Harry, and there was the same
apprehension in his features, the same fear of being rejected again.
It was Harry’s turn to make his move, his move that would
make or break their relationship.
He leaned forward and captured Draco’s lips again, swiping
his tongue across the glittery pink lower lip, causing Draco to part his mouth
and allow him entrance. Harry gently lowered Draco back onto the ground, while
he shifted himself such that his knees were in between Draco’s legs and he was
hovering above Draco, his body weight supported by his arms. He allowed himself
to rest his body lightly on Draco’s, and throughout all the movement, Draco’s
arms remained encircled around Harry’s waist and their lips never parted,
moving together in a sensual dance of passion.
When Harry felt that they were both comfortable, he deepened
the kiss, and into it he poured all his emotions and thoughts, his love and
affection for the boy underneath him. He put in the fear that he felt when he
saw Draco under Voldemort’s curse, and the fear that ran through his veins when
Draco was in coma. He pushed in the pain that he felt every time Draco looked
at him like he was a stranger, and he tried desperately to show his longing and
need for the blonde. In return, Draco unlocked his hands from behind Harry and begin to run them up and down his sides, calming him and
soothing him, telling him that he was there and that was all that mattered now.
They finally parted when they were both out of breath and
Harry sat back on his haunches, gazing at Draco beneath him, not really
believing that he was there. Draco sighed contentedly, his pink lips still
parted. Then he opened his eyes, just in time to see Harry’s hands reach for
his belt, then pull back as though he was afraid that Draco wouldn’t want him
to do so. So Draco reached for Harry’s hands and placed them on the belt buckle,
staring into green eyes and giving him permission wordlessly for anything that
Harry wanted. The grin that appeared on Harry’s face was wide enough to split
his cheeks, and slowly, he unbuckled the silver buckle, and almost with
reverential respect, he parted the red coat just enough for most of Draco’s
chest to be revealed.
Draco, for the lack of a better words,
was beautiful.
He was not as pale as he was back when they were in school,
but was lightly tanned, though still much fairer than Harry was. While Harry
was slightly on the bulkier side, Draco was slender, with what some would call
a ‘runner’s build’. Harry placed his lips back on Draco’s while his hands
explored Draco. He touched Draco’s collar bone lightly, and with his fingertips
just brushing over skin, he traced its shape closely.
Underneath him, Draco’s breathing sped up.
The finger traced down his sternum, while Harry continued to
kiss Draco softly. Then flattening his palms on Draco’s exposed shoulders, he
pushed the robe further open then ran his hands down Draco’s sides, marveling
at how the soft and warm the skin felt…
And then breaking the kiss abruptly, his eyes roamed down
quickly to find that underneath his right hand, Draco’s left side was a mass of
silvery scars, some that ran deep and others that protruded out. He let out an
involuntary gasp that caused Draco to tremble, and then scoot back in a hurry,
struggling to pull his coat around him and hide the scars.
“Oh god. I’m sorry Harry! You didn’t have to see that…why would
you…I mean, I think I’d better leave now.”
***
Draco finished off his sentence hurriedly, his face paler
than ever. He scrambled to his feet and made a bid for the door, only to have a
warm body tackle his from behind, bringing them both to the floor. He
struggled, trying to get out of Harry’s embrace, but it was to no avail. All he
knew was that he had he had made a mistake. In his excitement of preparing
Harry’s Christmas present, he had forgotten all about his scars, forgot to put
the glamour over, forgot that Harry might actually been repulsed by his
appearance, if Harry’s gasp was anything to go by. Still, with Harry pinning
him to the ground, Draco could not help but allow himself that little bit of
hope that Harry might not have been disgusted. But this hope he crushed,
crushed down quickly as he refused to let another crush his spirit. He
continued to struggle.
“Draco, please! Please listen to me!”
Then he felt something warm and wet on his neck, and he
couldn’t help but still his trashing. Was Harry…
“Harry, are you crying?” he whispered.
“God, Draco, that’s what Percy Weasley did to you, isn’t it?
We heard stories of how he headed a department in the ministry specialized in
the interrogation of suspected Death Eaters, even those whom Dumbledore had
sworn for before his death… and Snape…oh god…”
***
There were many atrocities of the war which Harry was well
aware of, but never had he had to confront the consequences of such atrocities
head on. Back then during the war, the Ministry of Magic had asked the order
for the names of spies that they depended on, and the minister had, in an act
of ‘good faith’ put Percy Weasley in charge, saying that since Harry’s right
hand man was a Weasley, namely, Ron, he should trust Percy enough, so the contract
had included a clause that the names of the spies were never revealed to anyone
else other than those in Percy’s team. The idea was that in exchange for the
names, the Order would have half the Auror department
under their control and disposal.
By then, Percy had reconciled with his family, and his
appointment of such an important task made Molly and Arthur Weasley swell with
pride. Harry, after discussing long and hard with Severus Snape, decided that
it was the best course of action to reveal the names, as it would give the
Order a lot more resources and power within the Ministry. What they hadn’t
expected, though, was that Percy’s team had taken it to be their task to prove
that the Death Eaters’ loyalty truly laid with the
side of the Light. And this ‘proof’ was acquired through prolonged
interrogation and in the cases for the males, torture. The suspects were made
to attend weekly sessions at the Ministry, and from what Harry could tell, they
had been put under a Secrecy Curse, under which they could not reveal what
happened at these sessions, or lacerations would start appearing on their
bodies.
Thus, Harry never knew what happened, but from what he saw,
it was what left to the demise of the Potions Master. He had returned from each
session severely weakened, physically and magically. Finally, during one of the
smaller clashes before the actual battle, his impaired reaction time made him
the victim of several curses which contributed his death, as he was unable to
dodge them. Harry also remembered Draco returning from his own sessions, grim
and tired looking, wincing as he made his way up the stairs of Grimmauld Place
to his own room. The first time Draco had returned, Snape had taken him aside
and gave him a supply of potions that would rejuvenate the blonde’s magic, and
instructed Harry to give Draco a small amount of potion each time he returned
from the sessions.
It was not till later, when Harry was sifting through Snape’s belongings after his death, that he found out that
Snape had been channeling his magic into the potions, a decision that had
weakened him further. Draco did not know of the plan then, but Snape had
decided on his own that it would be better to have a healthy, strong spy and a
dead one; compared to two sickly spies on their deathbeds and so he had given
up his own magic to sustain Draco’s.
Harry never forgot the way Draco had cried when he was told
of Snape’s sacrifice.
With Snape and Dumbledore gone, the only Legilimens
strong enough to break through the Secrecy Curse to reveal what the ministry
did to Draco, Snape and other spies of the Order was Voldemort, but since it
was quite impossible to approach him for help, it was never revealed what the
sessions were about. And without any evidence, Percy Weasley and his team were let
off scot-free. Harry had gotten close to the spies during the war, as first
hand contact with Voldemort made him all the more appreciative of their work.
He had tried to quash his suspicions of the brutality of Percy and his team,
but he could never get rid of the suspicion altogether.
This had caused his ties with Mum and Dad Weasley, but Ron
had seen the conditions in which the spies returned to the Order Headquarters
in after the sessions, so he stood steadfastly by Harry’s side. But while he
never spoke out against his brother, he was cold towards the elder Weasley when
he did turn up Grimmauld
Place. Also, each time a spy returned from a
session at the ministry, he would put aside whatever he was doing and dedicate
all his time to the task of taking care of the spy.
Harry wasn’t sure why no one saw physical injuries that
Draco suffered. The only theory he could come up with on the spot was that a
powerful glamour had been put over any physical damage, a glamour that was time
linked to the death of its caster. Percy Weasley had died after the war, just
after Draco had woken up from his coma and left the hospital. He had been in
the lift at the ministry with two other men in his team, when the magic and the
cable holding up the lift had given way and sent the lift plummeting down to a
huge crash, in which all three men died horrific deaths, Percy’s body broken
into two.
The Weasley parents mourned. Harry and Ron called it poetic
justice.
***
As Draco stilled, Harry relaxed his grip on the blonde and
turned him onto his back. Draco was crying now, quiet sobs that made Harry’s
heart clench. Harry wasn’t sure what Draco was crying about, whether it was for
the pain that he suffered at the hands of Percy Weasley. The blonde was
clutching the opening of his robe together so tightly that his knuckles had
gone white, and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he was trying to keep the
tears in, or if he was trying to hide from Harry. Harry took a deep breath,
wiped away his own tears and reached down to stroke Draco’s face. Draco tensed
even more, if it was possible, so Harry leaned down and placed feathery kisses
all over his face, kissing away the tears and pain.
“So beautiful, Draco, you’re so goddamned beautiful…” he
said in between kisses.
Harry’s hand moved downwards, and with them his lips
followed. He placed kisses down the white fur that lined Draco’s coat, and when
he finally reached Draco’s hands, he kissed them softly, nuzzling at the soft
skin and trying to convince him to relax his grip. He licked Draco’s
fingertips, nipped at the bone of his wrist, hoping that he could recreate the
same atmosphere as was present before he had gasped at Draco’s scar. Above him,
Draco was slowly relaxing, his eyes no longer squeezed tight, but rather, just
closed, like he was in a peaceful sleep. His hands, under Harry’s loving
ministrations, gradually eased their grip on his coat, and once Harry felt that
Draco was ready, he pulled Draco’s hands apart, and laced his fingers on his
left hand with Draco’s right. Then with his own right hand, he parted Draco’s
robe again, and this time, he headed straight down for Draco’s mass of scars,
running his hand lovingly over the marred patch of flesh.
Beneath him, Draco trembled. By now, his tears had stopped,
and all that was left were the tear tracks. His eyelids were at half mast now,
and he was peering down to see what Harry was doing, though the gradually
subsiding panic was still evident in his eyes. Harry looked up and as their
eyes met, he gave Draco a gentle, reassuring smile as he lowered his head to
press his lips against Draco’s scars.
Draco gave a startled gasp and he squirmed, undecided
whether to get away from Harry’s affectionate gesture or to go closer to it.
Harry couldn’t help but smile. Looks like my efforts to get him to relax are paying off. He kissed
his way back up to Draco’s face, before he engaged Draco’s lips in a sweet,
affectionate kiss to reassure him. Draco had kissed back instantly, though not
without a little apprehension in his kiss that Harry couldn’t detect. Harry, on
sensing this, carried on with the kiss in the same vein until he could no
longer sense any apprehension. When Harry pulled back to gauge Draco’s
reactions, he was relieved to see him smile contentedly back at him. On his part,
Harry found himself glad that Draco was no longer frightened. And with that
thought in mind, he swooped down for another kiss, this time a heated,
passionate kiss, in which he could feel himself hardening and soon he found
himself resisting the urge to rut against the blonde beneath him…
That is, until he realized that Draco was hard too, from the
presence of the member that was pushing its way into his thigh.
Harry broke away from the kiss and stood up, his hand still
entwined with Draco’s. He pulled the blonde to his shaky legs and led him
slowly back to the rug in front of the fireplace, the eye contact between them
never breaking. Then he wrapped his free arm around Draco’s waist and pulled
him into a kiss, and at the same time, he lowered them onto the rug and
maneuvered them such that Draco was once again lying under him.
Smiling widely into the kiss, he unlaced his fingers from
Draco’s hand, and started his exploration of Draco’s body, good and proper. He
started with Draco’s ears, stroking softly at the curved shell, then down the
lobe. A little further down was the elegant arch of his neck, the bob of his
Adam’s apple and then it was down to the collar bones again. Each time his
touch drifted over some part of Draco’s anatomy, Draco would react, to
different extents, to his touch. It was an education for Harry, learning how to
please his new lover. He carefully filed away each precious reaction, hoping,
no, knowing that it would come in handy again in the future.
Harry was delighted at the response he elicited from Draco
as he ran his hand down the firm pectorals, and finally raked his fingers over
Draco’s nipples. Draco let out something between a yelp and a whine, and arched
his back to get closer to Harry’s fingers. Sensitive eh? Immediately, Harry
stopped his exploration to pay much more attention to Draco’s nipples. He
rolled them in his fingers, reveling in Draco’s reactions. However, there was
something that made him move on.
That lovely, warm moisture that was seeping through the
front of Draco’s thong.
Oh yes. His THONG.
Harry pulled himself away from Draco slowly, grinning widely
at Draco’s small whine of despair at the loss of Harry’s lips.
“Draco, open your eyes…”
Draco’s eyes opened lazily, and he peered up at Harry
questioningly.
***
Draco had been too nervous to return the favor when Harry
started touching him. All he could do was dig his fingers into the thick carpet
underneath him, as he went from distraught to relax and finally to aroused. He
could feel the heat rise up to his face as Harry skimmed his fingertips over
his collarbone, and when the nimble fingers finally came to toy with his
nipples, he couldn’t help but arched up to the touch.
And now Harry was telling him to look with that slightly
evil smirk on his face…
Dear Merlin.
***
Harry was sitting back on his haunches now, his eyes locked
firmly with Draco’s. He parted his lips slightly and slipped his tongue out,
licking his lips full circle slowly.
Yes, it was Harry’s turn to seduce. But he didn’t plan to draw
it out, not like Draco had done with his.
Panic flashed in Draco’s eyes, before it was replaced
swiftly with the dilated pupils of extreme arousal.
Harry dropped his upper body swiftly and bracing himself
with his hands on either side of Draco’s hips, he pressed his lips against the
lace of Draco’s thong, mouthing it hotly, eliciting a loud groan from Draco. He
continued to tease the stiff member through the material, licking at it and
nipping it gently through the lace, making Draco groan and squirm under him.
***
But obviously, Draco hadn’t planned to be idle either. He
had come to Harry’s place with the intent of being the seducer, and he wasn’t
going to be deprived of his share of fun.
Pulling himself together and reigning
his arousal within control, he curled his hands in a firm grip around Harry’s
biceps and pushed him away, ignoring the slight look of hurt on Harry’s face
for the time being. With some difficulty on his part, he sat up, groaning at
the discomfort of his recently pleasured but unsatisfied hard on, and slipped
his hands down to the hem of Harry’s shirt.
“You’re overdressed.”
And without waiting for Harry’s response, Draco tugged the
top over Harry’s head, revealing a strong, broad chest which he proceeded to
examine thoroughly. He ran his hands up and down the muscular back, while
kissing his way down the neck to Harry’s chest, and finally, closing his mouth
around one erect nipple.
“Draaa…..”
The whine came, but was never completed. Harry was too
caught up in the sensations that Draco was creating, biting lightly on one
nipple while tweaking the other with his long, slender fingers. One of Draco’s
hands was now wrapped around Harry’s back and pulling him up such that he was
kneeling in between Draco’s legs so that Draco would have better access to his
torso. As he shifted the attention of his mouth down to Harry’s navel, Harry’s
moans increased in volume as Draco swirled his tongue in the indentation.
And finally came the long awaited
shriek.
Draco’s hand that had been idly tracing patterns on Harry’s
thigh now cupped his crotch gently, squeezing the engorged member through the
thin material of his linen pants. The pressure was applied at a rhythm to the
licks in his navel, and Harry could feel his knees turning soft and giving way.
He gathered his wits, deciding that if he didn’t do something so, he would just
cream his pants so hard that the night would be over.
“Draco…if you don’t stop that now…”
Draco smiled against Harry’s skin, one that he was sure
Harry felt if anything was to be judged from the frustrated sigh that came
after it. He stopped the licking and tilted his face up, then pulled Harry down
for a kiss, but never removing his hand from Harry’s crotch. He didn’t squeeze
it anymore either, just a light pressure, enough to make Harry frustrated but
completely insufficient to make him come. As they kissed, Draco started to lean
back, pulling Harry down with him so that Harry was hovering over him once
again, back to where they had started.
***
Once he could think with his head again, Harry’s hands
started stroking and caressing Draco’s skin again, with strong, sensual
strokes. Then, he pulled Draco’s hand away from his crotch, albeit reluctantly,
and lowered himself onto the blonde such that their members were rubbing
against each other through the thin layers of cloth. Harry just kept on kissing
Draco, both opened mouth and tongues twisting and stroking, while they thrust
against each other. His hands weren’t at rest either. They helped Draco
struggle out of the sleeves of his red coat and pull off his red boots, and at
the end of the process, the coat laid under them, adding to the cushion that
the thick fur rug provided while the boots were flung haphazardly aside.
Harry kissed his way down Draco’s jaw, and then down his
fine, toned body until he reached the fine trail of downy hair that led down
into Draco’s thong. He then hooked his index fingers to the sides of the
garment…
“Lift your hips, love.”
And in one swift motion, pulled it
right off.
Draco let out a moan that Harry was sure that the neighbors
heard, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how different Draco was from when he
was in his ice prince persona. Then he felt a tugging on his waistband.
“Harry…off...”
Laughing a little more at Draco’s incoherence, he acquiesced
to Draco’s slurred demand and stood up and slipped his pants off and threw them
aside. Now, it was Draco’s turn to look at him appreciatively. A buffer body
than Draco’s, the bronzed skin and the hard, stiff arousal. Harry grinned at
Draco’s blush, as the blonde’s eyes approached his nether regions. He allowed
himself to be appreciated for a moment, no longer the shy young boy many years
ago who had been horribly self conscious of his appearances. He had grown to be
confident of his looks, and instead of blushing when he was whistled at by men
and women alike, he would flash a charming grin, although more often than not
slightly apologetically, causing them to swoon in delight.
But Draco… Draco’s gaze was different. It appreciate his exterior, but saw right through to the
desperation and longing within. It was piercing, and soul searing, and Harry
could feel his skin heating up as the self conscious boy from the past surfaced
beneath all the growing up that he did. So instead of letting the blush come
all the way through, Harry knelt back down between Draco’s legs, and then
lowered himself gently onto Draco.
This time round, the exploration was mutual. Hands ran over ears,
cheeks, chests, torsos, buttocks and thighs as they thrust against one another,
trying to keep a slow pace to make their loving last longer. When Draco felt
like he could not hold himself in anymore, he slipped a hand in between their
tightly meshed bodies and put some distance between themselves, and gazing
shyly up at Harry…
“Harry...take me?” he whispered.
Looking down at Draco, Harry knew there was no way he could
refuse that request. He had been waiting for this for such a long time, and now
all that he could do was nod mutely. He wandlessly summoned
a cushion from the couch which seemed so far away compared to the distance
between him and Draco and slipped it under Draco’s hips. With one hand, he
caressed Draco’s inner thighs lovingly, then lubricated the fingers of his
other hand with a lubricating charm and reached under Draco to circle the tight
opening. He bent over and caught Draco’s lips in a kiss, muffling the soft cry
that the blonde emitted with the first finger slipped into his hole. And as he
added a second, then a third finger and started the scissoring motion to
stretch Draco, he kept running his other hand up and down Draco’s thigh to
reassure him, while he showered Draco’s face with butterfly kisses, and
occasionally kissing his lips to distract him from the pain.
Harry couldn’t help but delight at the little noises that
Draco made with each motion his hand made inside of him. He would arch up to
Harry’s hand caressing his thighs, and then he would give a soft whine before
trying to push Harry’s fingers deeper into himself. And when Harry’s long
digits finally crooked and found that soft, squishy piece of tissue, Draco gave
his loudest, lustiest moan of the night yet, one which almost sent Harry
tumbling off the edge.
“Draco…I can’t…” he pled brokenly.
“Please…now!”
Both were beyond the point of coherent words now. Harry
slipped his fingers out of Draco’s well stretched hole, feeling a tug on his
heartstrings at the slight frown that appeared on Draco’s face at the loss.
No hurt, no pain, no
sorrow.
Draco’s wriggled slightly under Harry, who was kneeling in
between Draco’s legs now, before lift his legs up and resting his knees at
where Harry’s hips were, and then locked his legs at the small of Harry’s back,
all the while looking pleadingly up at his soon-to-be lover. It was at that
moment that Harry knew he would never be able to refuse Draco anything, not
anything that Draco wanted so badly. Soothing a hand over Draco’s mass of scars
as a final reassuring gesture, Harry aligned his leaking member at Draco’s
entrance, and pushed, breaching the ring of muscle.
At that moment, Draco let out a soft whimper, causing Harry
to still in his actions in fear of causing Draco more pain.
“Love, tell me if it hurts. I don’t want to…”
“Shush Harry, it would hurt more if you didn’t give me you.
All of you.”
With that, Draco shifted his hips, pushing to take more of
Harry in. Harry groaned at the sensation of the tight channel enveloping his
member. He breathed deeply as he continued pushing in slowly, all the while
murmuring softly to Draco to soothe him, and occasionally running his hands up
and down Draco’s body, asking him to relax. Then with one final thrust, Harry
was completely sheathed in Draco’s warmth.
Time froze for the two young lovers. It felt right, right
for Harry to be in Draco, right for Draco to be surrounding Harry. It was
Christmas, a time for peace, and all the horrors that they had seen in the war
appeared to have melted away with this one act of their bodies coming together.
One could say that they felt that their tangle of limbs were not those of two
people, but of a single entity.
THEY had come home.
Draco gave a strangled sob before tightening the loop that
his legs made around Harry’s waist.
“Move Harry, please! Touch me, fuck me…
Love me.”
The last two words were whispered with heated abandonment,
and on hearing them, Harry bent over and caught Draco’s open, pleading mouth in
a passionate kiss. He drew his hips back, pulling his stiff arousal out of
Draco’s tight hole, and then pushed back in slowly. Both boys groaned at the
sensation, Draco feeling the burn in his stretched muscles, while Harry at the
tightness of Draco. Then as Draco relaxed into Harry’s touches, Harry changed
the angle of his thrusts, finding that sweet spot within Draco that made him
alternate between soft screams and moans.
“Faster…”
Harry heard the sensual moan leave Draco’s lips, giving him
permission to give in to his raging hormones and his almost too aroused body,
and so he let himself go, hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into
Draco. Underneath him, Draco bucked up with each thrust, pushing back, their
bodies moving in tandem in the firelight. Then Harry felt that all too familiar
coiling in his lower abdomen. Knowing that he was not going to last any longer,
he reached in between their bodies and wrapped his hand firmly around Draco’s
erection, stroking and pulling it in time to his trust. The double stimulation
caused Draco to writhe even harder under him, and it wasn’t long before Harry
was sure that both of them would explode from the sensations and emotions that
flowed through them.
He whispered.
“Come for me love.”
And with the softly spoken words, Draco came with a howl
worthy of any self respecting werewolf. His channel tightened around Harry’s
member, pulling his orgasm from him and within milliseconds of Draco’s
completion, Harry came with a loud bellow.
***
When the aftershocks and bright lights finally died down,
Harry pulled out from Draco’s body, wincing at the sensations created by his
over sensitized member. A soft groan of loss brought his gaze down at the
blissful face of his new lover, feeling like he had saved the Wizarding world
for real this time. The blonde’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, before lifting
to reveal sated grey eyes.
“Hey,” the blonde said shyly.
Harry chuckled and spooning up closely behind Draco, he
wrapped his arms around the slender torso and pressed his lips to the
sweat-glazed neck.
“Hey yourself.”
Draco turned around to face Harry and gave him a soft, sweet
kiss, then tucked his head under Harry’s chin and snuggled in deeply into
Harry’s embrace. Harry’s arms tightened around him.
“Merry Christmas, Harry, I hope you liked your present.”
Draco yawned into Harry’s chest, exhausted from their
earlier activities. At the adorable sound of a sleepy Draco, Harry couldn’t
stop the wide grin that spread over his own face.
“Happy Christmas, love. It was the best present ever.”
And it was in front of the roaring fire where they fell
asleep in the warm atmosphere of love and home.
***
Harry woke up on Christmas morning with a smile on his face
and his eyes closed. What a wonderful
Christmas gift, a dream from the Higher Powers. A full-blown make out session
with Draco and lots of foreplay as appetizer. Mmmhmm.
He didn’t want to open his eyes, for fear that the
dream would fly from his consciousness as dreams often did. But he couldn’t run
away from reality for too long. He of all people knew best that reality had a
way of catching up with you when you tried to ignore it.
And so he opened his eyes, disappointed that he had to give
up his dream.
Only to find a blonde head resting on his chest, and his arms
wrapped firmly around a lithe, naked body.
He smiled indulgently, remembering that last night hadn’t
been a dream after all. So he closed his eyes and prepared to sleep in with his
love, for it was Christmas, a time to be shared with loved ones. Noticing that the fire had gone out leaving only glowing embers and
that the room had turned slightly chilly, Harry Accioed the rug that was on the
couch to cover them. But as he spread the rug over them, he heard the
soft rustling sound of parchment, and as he felt around the thick rug, he found
a scroll of paper.
Draco’s Christmas list.
He placed it reverently next to him, and completed the task
of tucking the rug around their bare bodies and settled down comfortably around
Draco once more. He picked up the scroll again and unrolled it.
Draco’s Christmas
(Wish)list
1. To give Harry a nice
surprise for Christmas
2. For Harry to make
love to me in front of a roaring fire.
Harry smiled. Well, the first two demands on the list had
definitely been satisfied. He couldn’t ask for a nicer surprise, and they had
certainly done the act no.2 perfectly. But it was the third wish that brought
Harry close to tears this Christmas morning.
3. For the abysmal hope
of mine that Harry would love me to become a reality. And with that, for me to
wake up to him, with him, and see him smiling at me with his bright green eyes,
whispering ‘good morning’ to me and kissing me this Christmas morning, then
telling me that he loved me. Then maybe, just maybe, I can allow myself to hope
that he would do so every morning to come for the rest of our lives.
Draco’s demands had been so small and so simple. All he wanted
was for Harry to have a good Christmas, and for Harry to love him. He placed
the sheet of parchment back onto the floor where it curled back into a loose
imitation of its original shape.
In his arms, Draco gave a soft sigh as he roused from his
deep slumber. He opened his eyes and looked up at Harry, eyes filled with love
and trepidation, affection and hesitation. Harry could see the questions
running through Draco’s head.
Is last night a one-off
thing only?
Does Harry love me?
Will he just see last night
as a jest and nothing more?
Harry knew the answers to all of Draco’s questions, and he
knew just how to placate the blonde’s fears.
He smiled gently and whispered a soft ‘good morning’, before
tilting his head forward to plant a soft, chaste kiss on Draco’s lips.
“I love you.”
Author's note
Well, that's my offering for this Christmas. It started out meaning to be fluffy PWP, but it took on a plot along the way. It was also meant to be short, but well....reviews will be much appreciated. =)
Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed that. I haven't given up on DOTF, and hopefully the writers block for the next chapter will be gone soon. Apologies for not updating sooner, that's cause it's been a really busy year.
Happy Christmas folks!
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