Rage | By : blake5156 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3657 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story. |
Chapter 1 : Saint Potter
“Potter! Where are those reports I requested? It’s been 2 weeks!”
Saint Potter, just the sight of his messy dark locks and piercing jade colored eyes behind those stupid spectacles made Draco’s blood boil with rage.
He was standing at the door of Draco’s office, not daring to step across the threshold. He was decked in full Gryffindor-red auror regalia that he filled to the point of bursting, with his broad shoulders, body hard from rigorous auror training. God, he hated him.
Everyone gave him a free pass for being the savior of the Wizarding world, no matter what shortcomings he had. No matter how many mistakes he made, Potter could do no wrong.
How much he hated Potter often threatened to overwhelmed him. The fact that Potter had saved his life, for seemingly no reason at all, only increased his ire. The he had grown into this hulk of a figure after his awkward skinny boyish phase only made matters worse. It seemed cruelly unjust.
Meanwhile, Draco was still considered a pariah in the Wizarding world. He was still scoffed at, even while out with his family. His wife, Astoria and son, Scorpius were sometimes with him when this occurred. He would be leaving Madam Malkins with his family, innocently walking down the street, when a mother with her child would quickly walk across the street to avoid him, as if he were a lepor. It irked him to no end that his family was still paying the price for his mistakes as a child.
Potter had begged for his pardon after the war. Draco, still, had no idea why. Potter was less than forthcoming and Draco was certainly in no hurry to inquire. He was not some simpering school girl, begging for Potter’s affections and approval.
Potter, on the other hand, could go nowhere with his family without having to stop for a photograph or an autograph. Love poured out for him from every corner, even now, 15 years later.
“Malfoy, I’ll have the reports in when I can. You know I’m not much for paper work,” he grinned with chagrin. That stupid handsome grin, Draco wanted to smack it off his face, wanted to punch his teeth in.
“Can you do them for me?” Potter daringly continued. “You’re the paperwork guy. I’m no good,” he smiled.
HA! No good? If only that were true.
“Do you think I’m going to bend over backwards for you because you’re the savior, Potter? It astonishes me that you became the Head Auror with your head so far up your bloody arse!”
Potter chuckled. “Me too Malfoy, me too”
Draco glared at him, at his shining gold badge designating him the head auror. He had no words for the man standing before him. It was almost as if he enjoyed Draco’s wrath. Sometimes, Potter returned his anger in equal measure, which Draco preferred.
Other times, like now, Potter treated Draco like they were old chums, pals during their schoolboy days.
Draco began to blotch red with anger, his hand itching to punch Potter directly in his face. He clutched his left hand in a fist under his desk, hard enough to leave marks, to take the edge off.
Of course, attacking him would never be an option. Potter was his superior. And Draco would be fired faster than you could say quidditch. The DMLE longed for a reason to fire Draco, and messing with the Savior was a one way ticket out of there. This is why Draco worked twice as hard as all the other aurors. He made sure everything was done correctly, field work and paperwork. He was known for it.
Draco was an excellent auror, the best in the department, even better than Potter.
It was his intelligence, meticulousness, and excellence that gave Draco an edge. He had an intricate knowledge of dark wizards that the others simply did not. He worked longer hours than all others and often had a heavier work load. Draco was involved on every high profile case. He would never be promoted above a field auror because of his seedy past, but he was fine with that as long as he could keep his job. He did not need to work, but he enjoyed feeling useful for once. He enjoyed being good at what he did.
Potter’s very presence threatened Draco’s job every day. Draco spent many long hours worrying about the inevitable, when his hatred of the man would boil over, causing him to snap and beat him to a bloody pulp.
Yet, even at work, where he excelled above all others, Draco was not favored, as was to be expected. Most of his colleagues regarded him with grudging respect, but certainly did not ask him round’ the pub after work.
Harry would occasssionally invite him, but Draco would decline, not wanting to endure hateful glares from his colleagues, wondering what the hell he was doing there.
He also frequently wondered at the reason Potter invited him in the first place. Did he think they could be friends? Or was it pity? He couldn’t decide which was worse.
“Have the reports in to me by the end of the day, Potter, or I’ll file a complaint with Shacklebolt, himself.”
Potter had the decency not to smile at that, as he and Shacklebolt were good friends and reporting him would have little affect.
“I’m sorry Malfoy.” He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “You’re right. I’ll have them in by Monday. It’s Ginny’s birthday and we’re going out to ‘Incantation’ for dinner tonight. I still have to pick up a gift.”
At the mention of Potter’s perfect family, Draco’s anger reached greater heights.
“Do you think I give a bloody fuck about your personal life Potter? Just do your job!”
Potter looked slightly embarrassed and looked towards his feet. Then he looked up at Draco, hands up in a surrendering pose. He dropped them, crossing his arms and just openly stared at Draco while he finished up a report on his desk, quill flying across the page, paying the man no regard. Potter leaned against the frame of Draco’s office, casual, without a care in the world.
“Can I help you Potter? That was a dismissal, in case you missed it.”
He started for a moment, as if out of a daze, and took his time straightening up. He looked back before leaving, hesitant to say something, but deciding to say it anyway.
“You training in the gym this weekend?’
Draco sighed and covered his eyes as if a migraine was coming. For the last few months, Harry had learned that Draco trained vigorously at the gym designated for the aurors and would join him there a few times a week. This irked Draco to no end as he was forced to acknowledge how fit the bloke had become, how much he had filled out, all muscle and certainly stockier then Draco’s lithe figure.
Not that Draco was hard to look at, himself. His pointed features seemed to smooth out with age. He was no hulk, but beautiful in his own way, a sinewy figure with perfect porcelain skin and stormy grey eyes standing at 6’1, taller than Potter, thank circe. Beneath his auror regalia that was fitted to perfection, Draco was chiseled like a greek god, from hours spent working out his aggressions at the gym.
This weekend, however, he had special plans with Blaise...
Besides, what bloody business of Potter’s was it what Draco did on the weekend?
“I don’t know yet. Please leave.”
Potter’s face fell slightly at this, which confused Draco, as well as pissed him off. Then, he finally walked out and left Draco in peace, closing the door behind him with one last regretful glance over his shoulder.
After a few moments of quiet rage, Draco took his glass paperweight and threw it at the closed door with enough force that it shattered into several pieces. It did little to calm his anger and he quickly muttered a “reparo” to right it once more. He tried to get his breathing under control.
He needed Blaise.
“Draco, ugh, harder. Please, “ Blaise moaned. Draco loved it when Blaise begged, but he ignored his request. He pounded into him from behind, slowly, almost tenderly, driving Blaise mad with desire, dragging out their mutual pleasure as long as possible.
They were at a hotel in Rome for the weekend. Blaise had been complaining for the last few months that Draco didn’t give him enough attention and affection. That Draco only uses him for his tight hole, which was mostly true.
Yet, Blaise was still very important to him, both as a form of release from the constant stress of Potter, and as a dear friend. So Draco had planned this getaway for them, telling Astoria simply that he had business in Europe. She never questioned him.
“You feel so good inside, so tight. Did you spend all week waiting for me to fill you up?”
Blaise moaned, “yes, baby please. I need it.”
Draco bristled at the pet name. He hated it. He often worried that the man bent over on his hands and knees in front of him placed too much stock in their arrangement, that he had grown too attached, emotionally.
He stared down at Blake’s perfectly sculpted back, now collecting sweat, moved his eyes lower, watching his dick slide slowly in and out of Blaise’s beautiful hole with languid pleasure.
“Please baby, harder! please!”
At the second “baby,” he roughly flattened Blaise on the bed so he lay flat on his stomach. He laid on top of him, his chest fitting to Blaise’s back perfectly. Draco circled his right arm around Blaise’s neck, putting Blaise in an even more submissive position, lightly choking him and drove into him harder, pounding Blaise’s ass mercilessly.
Blaise screamed. Draco took his left hand and fitted it over his mouth to stifle his screams as he drove into him harder still. The obscene sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, accompanied by Blaise’s muffled screams, dampened by Draco’s hand, but still loud enough to be heard clearly.
Draco was heading towards his orgasm quickly now. Blaise would definitely feel this all next week as Draco sped up his hard punishing deep thrusts.
“Yes Draco!” Blaise mumbled particularly loudly from beneath Draco’s hand, and he tensed. Draco figured it was from the brute force. He was fucking Blaise far harder than he was accustomed to, with all his strength.
Faster and faster he drove into Blaise, forcing his own pleasure to unbearable heights as his orgasm finally tore out of him.
Draco succumbed to his orgasm with a quiet groan as a jolt of electricity passed through his body. This was the only noise he made as he filled Blaise with his sticky release.
He rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, pressed tightly against Blaise’s back, trembling slightly. He felt instant relief, boneless, needing release far more than usual after his interactions with Potter earlier in the week.
After a few moments just lying on top of him, he released Blaise from his chokehold and moved his hand from his mouth.
Blaise was silent, his eyes still closed. He moved off slowly, his cock sliding out with a soft pop that made Blaise groan. Draco savored the sight of cum trickling slowly out of his hole, onto his balls and down to the sheets. He gave his are a quick peck to the cheek, and a small slap.
He was preparing to bring Blaise to orgasm with his mouth but realized as Blaise adjusted himself that the sheets beneath him were splattered with cum already. So he lay on his back near Blaise, staring at the ceiling.
Blaise didn’t move or speak for a while, eyes closed, mouth half open as if from sated bliss.
After a few moments, Blaise muttered a quick cleaning charm, flipped over onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes as if to block out the light.
“So good.” he whispered.
Draco smirked in response though Blaise couldn’t see. He was still trying to get his breathing under control. He eventually calmed down and and threw an arm over Draco, nuzzling his side.
Draco sighed but allowed it.
He looked down at Blaise who had his eyes closed and a goofy grin on his face and quickly looked away.
“Draco?”
“What Blaise?”
“Thank you bringing me here. I’ll never forget it.” He leaned up to give Draco a deep kiss which Draco half-heartedly returned. He allowed his mouth to be plundered by Blaise’s tongue before leaning out of it and kissing him on the forehead.
“I miss you so much,” Blaise continued.
“It’s only been a week Blaise,” he said softly.
“I know,” he answered, sighing in resignation at his own longing.
It wasn’t that Draco didn’t care for Blaise. He did, very deeply, but not in the same way that Blaise cared for him. The man knew Draco was married and that this should be nothing more than a friendly poke in the night. Blaise is his best friend, his most trusted and loyal confidant. Out of all of Draco’s friends, Blaise was the only one Draco considered a true equal. He was exceedingly wealthy, good looking, from a great pureblood family, and had a wicked sense of humor that Draco enjoyed very much.
It was a deep friendly affection with occasional sex, though admittedly, the sex had been happening more often than usual in light of Potter’s antics. Their sexual relationship started back at Hogwarts and continued on and off for the past 15 years. At that time, they had come to a mutual understanding that this was nothing more than sex and would always remain secret. Blaise agreed.
The fact that Blaise never married or seemed to be dating anyone seriously, as of late, sometimes worried Draco. Whenever he brought it up to the blue eyed Italian god, he would shrug it off and change the subject.
“Are you seeing anyone these days?” Draco ventured, yet again. At this, Blaise forcefully detached himself from Draco, and began to look for his boxers briefs. When he found them, he put them on without looking at Draco and stomped off to the balcony, facing St. Peter’s Basillica.
“Hey, what’s your bloody problem?” Draco called after him.
Blaise directed a hateful glare at Draco behind his shoulder and turned back to face the church again.
Draco rose from the bed, naked, and came up behind Blaise, wrapping his arms around him affectionately, pressing closely to his body.
“My problem is I still have your cum dripping out of my arse, and you’re asking why I’m not seeing other people. It’s insulting Draco.”
Draco placed a soft kiss on his neck. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m a prick. I just worry about you. I want you to be happy.”
Blaise looked down at the pavement, arms crossed in an angry stance and sighed. He looked like he wanted to say more but remained silent.
At that moment, the bells of the Basilica began to ring. It was a crisp Sunday morning and Rome looked beautiful. The sound soothed him, made him think back on his Catholic Italian upbringing. Draco swayed them both to the methodic ringing and Blaise began to relax into his arms.
“What are we doing Draco? Why did you bring me here?”
At that, Draco forcefully rutted his soft cock against Blaise’s clothed arse making Blaise chuckle. “Is that all you think about? Bloody perv.”
Draco softly laughed in return. “I thought you were happy I brought you here. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
What Blaise wanted was for Draco to divorce his wife and run away with him so they could be together forever. This would never happen, of course. Draco would never abandon his wife and child. He didn’t even know how Draco truly felt about him.
He did not know when these ridiculous feelings for Draco started to develop, but they were not going away, no matter how hard he tried to deny them. It was always casual between them, but his feelings came on slowly over the years, so slowly that Blaise didn’t notice at first. In the past few months, they got worse, hitting him with the subtlety of a freight train as the frequency of their trysts increased.
This romantic getaway to Rome was a testament to how much Draco knew Blaise wholly and completely. The cradle of Catholicism, a harkening to his Italian roots. He was thrilled when they first arrived, sinking down to his knees and swallowing Draco’s cock the moment they arrived in the hotel room.
He loved the selfish git with every fibre of his being and Draco had no idea. He was often at a loss for what to do. Cutting off the sex seemed to be an impossible choice, and he certainly couldn’t tell Draco, for fear he would never see him again.
“Yea Draco. It’s been great here…We should pack.”
They returned to England by International portkey Sunday afternoon. When they arrived, Draco gave him a mere nod and said “See you at work.”
Blaise worked in the Department of mysteries and would often sneak up to Draco’s office to see him. He did not know whether it was a blessing or a curse that Draco was always so near him, yet so far away.
Blaise nodded in return and began to stroll across King’s cross station to the apparition point. With every step he took away from Draco, the longing for him returned and he missed him already. He felt pathetic and a little used, though he could hardly blame Draco for that.
Blaise squared his shoulders, determined to endure this, at whatever cost. At the very least, Blaise was the only one Draco had sex with as his wife slept in a different wing of the house.
As far as he was concerned, that made Draco his, and his alone.
That brought a small smile to his face as he disapparated on the spot with a loud crack, back to his empty manor.
_____________
What do you think? PLEASE COMMENT, as this is my first fic.
This is mainly Harry/Draco, as you will see, if you like. Please comment if you would like me to continue! It's not so often we get a good topDraco story or some Blaise/Draco action. Hope you liked it!
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