Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Ad Pavonem	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4188 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
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Chapter Ten—Commitment
“You’re so good,” Harry gasped as he felt Draco’s hands dip teasingly down his back, touching places that had never felt arousing before. Draco had him pinned against the wall beside the front door of the Manor, his head dipping constantly to nip at Harry’s neck.
Draco lifted his head and blew gently across the area he’d been biting. “And you’re safe.”
“That’s—a weird thing to say,” Harry complained. He didn’t mean to have the little gap of breath in the middle of his words, but Draco had chosen that moment to bend down and start kissing him again.
“You’re far too coherent,” Draco murmured, moving back a step and studying Harry as if he was a puzzle. “Come.” He locked his fingers around Harry’s hand and tugged abruptly, pulling Harry away from the wall and into his arms again. Then they Apparated.
They landed in the middle of a bed that seemed as big as a meadow, and Harry rolled over and stared at Draco. Draco smirked at him, said, “I can Apparate in my own house if I want,” and pulled his shirt over his head.
Harry licked his lips and forgot about the little speech he was going to make, about how wasteful it was to Apparate when you could just walk up the stairs instead. He was too busy staring at Draco’s muscles. Honestly, you would have thought that both of them worked as Aurors, with the way they rippled as Draco stalked towards the bed.
“I’m showing you mine,” Draco murmured, bending so that he said the words almost against Harry’s lips. “Show me yours. Come on, Harry.” His hand slid up and down, caressing, working out little shivers that made Harry’s hands shake as he reached for his Auror robes.
And Draco’s eyes continued to devour him as he watched Harry shuck the robes, and take off the shirt he wore beneath. “Shirt?” he asked softly, touching it with his fingertips and then whistling a little. “Acromantula silk?”
Harry flushed as he pulled that off, too. “It’s soft, and the robes rub on my skin, and I can afford it.”
When he could see Draco again past the shirt collar, he realized Draco was smiling at him. He put a knee on the bed between Harry’s legs and gently pushed until Harry fell backwards. Then he traced a finger down the line of Harry’s erection, straining against his pants. Harry groaned and grabbed Draco’s hand, repeating the tracing line more forcefully.
“I wasn’t questioning your taste,” Draco whispered. “Just surprised that you had such good taste. But I should have known that, shouldn’t I? After all, you were lusting after me from a distance.”
Harry opened his eyes, gone hazy as Draco plucked the glasses from his face. Draco was smiling, though. Harry thought he could have been waking up after a Concussion Curse and he would have seen that.
“You’re beautiful.”
Harry felt his dying blush come back again, full force. “You don’t have to say that,” he mumbled, an automatic reaction as he reached up to feel the edges of Draco’s muscles and spine. People were always telling him that he was beautiful. Not all of them could mean it. Harry never wanted Draco to feel like he was forced to compliment Harry.
Draco caught Harry’s wrist and turned it sideways, bestowing a sharp little bite over his pulse. Harry cried out. That was arousing, too, like all the places Draco had found on his back. Who would have known?
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot say,” Draco huffed, and lay down on top of Harry, with a groan as their still-clothed cocks touched. Harry found that he had better things to think about. He locked his hands on Draco’s shoulders and moved him back and forth.
Sparks showered up into his stomach. He lifted his hips. God, he could come like this, just rubbing against Draco, the way he might have in the Ministry if they’d continued to touch each other.
But Draco braced a hand on Harry’s shoulder and heaved himself back with a little gasp. His eyes shone at Harry. “Do you really want this to be over so quickly?”
“Want to come.”
“But think about how much better it will feel if we play with each other a bit first.”
Harry looked at him doubtfully. “That’s usually for later, right? We come fast, and then we can take it slow.”
Draco smiled and caught his hand, kissing his fingers this time, and nipping him again near his thumbnail. “We have so much time, Harry. So much time to play whatever games we want, fast or slow. But this time, I’d like to do this.”
“Well, that’s all you had to say,” Harry muttered, and spread his legs.
He understood the expression that came over Draco’s face then, although he couldn’t put a name to it. He blushed again.
*
Merlin, how is it that someone hasn’t snapped him up before now?
But even as he hastily took off his own pants and trousers, Draco thought he could answer that question. Harry would have distrusted a lot of people who felt free to approach him. He would have thought they wanted to sleep with the Boy-Who-Lived, not him. Look at the way he had distrusted Draco’s compliment.
Well, he’ll get used to that, Draco thought complacently, and sat back to watch as Harry stared at him.
He kept looking at Draco’s cock in a way that made Draco waver. Maybe they could come fast this time, and then they could go slow next time.
But he had made up his mind, and he had asked, and he wanted to see if Harry would keep his promise almost as he much as he wanted Harry to touch him. After a second, Harry brought his legs back close to each other again and slowly squirmed out of his pants without taking his gaze off Draco.
“This would go faster if you could look away,” Draco finally murmured.
“You love it, don’t lie.”
Draco’s breath bounded in his chest. That came awfully close to something else, something that he didn’t think he could say right now.
But he didn’t need to say it right now, with the way that Harry was appreciatively eyeing him. He contented himself with stretching and saying, “How do you want to do this?”
Harry let his legs flip open again and gave him a look that said Draco was being stupid.
“You have done this before?” Draco asked, as he stooped to pick up his wand and Summon lube. He tried not to mind showing Harry his arse; after all, he knew the attention he was getting was on the verge of drooling.
“Of course.”
“Well, you won’t want to do it with anyone after this,” Draco snapped, and the lube slammed into his palm.
“What is that, a threat to make it painful or a promise to keep me?”
Draco turned around, having heard the quiver in Harry’s voice this time. Harry was just as nervous as he was, and maybe more. After all, he was the one who had desired Draco from afar for years, and must hardly be able to believe that his fantasy was happening.
“Definitely the promise,” he whispered, and dipped his fingers into the lube.
Harry only wriggled in place, his face so vivid with delight that Draco paused and bowed his head a little to accept the tribute of it before he slid his fingers into Harry.
Harry held his breath. Draco slapped his stomach to get him to let it go. Harry grunted in annoyance and squinted at him. “I’ve done this before, but it’s been a long time.”
“Then you may have forgotten that you’re supposed to relax if you want to actually let me into you.”
Those words did the trick. Harry mouthed them to himself, his eyes fastened to Draco’s face, as he let his muscles unclench, and Draco’s fingers slid further in. Draco felt around a long time, longer than he liked to take, for Harry’s prostate, while Harry’s eyes softened and he looked as if he was going to start some gentle speech.
Then his head tilted back, and his eyes widened, and he gave a breathless grunt.
“I take it that’s it,” Draco panted. It actually didn’t feel any different from the rest of Harry’s arse to him, but he faithfully prodded it, and Harry bobbed his head and widened his legs until his knees touched the sides of the bed. Draco thought he would have kept spreading them if he’d had more muscle.
I’m being welcomed inside him.
Draco bent over and kissed Harry fiercely, getting a mouthful of curling tongue and passionate energy, before he curled his fingers and withdrew them. Then he slathered himself with lube, and put some on Harry’s arse, too. Harry only grunted a little, and his legs flexed as if he was still seeking to spread them.
“You can hold onto me when I’m inside,” Draco said to him, and then began the slow, sliding, wonderful process.
The lube glistened and squeaked between them. Harry kept his legs open as if he didn’t believe Draco until Draco was more than halfway in; then he reached up and scratched his nails down Draco’s back.
Draco gasped. He’d never been one for having his lovers claw him, but this was really working for him. He snapped his hips in, and Harry responded with a sigh that just missed being a grunt.
“All right?”
“Move.”
Draco supposed he was lucky to get that much, when Harry sounded as if he hardly had a breath left.
Draco did move. And it was marvelous.
Harry’s hands closed on his back and almost slit ribbons of blood to run free, and it was prickling, strong, impossible to ignore. His heels kicked and drummed the bed, and Draco couldn’t ignore the sound, either. Harry was all around him, squeezing and pulling.
God. I have this. I want this. I want him.
Draco’s eyes snapped open, and he watched Harry’s red, flushed face, and his hair flaring over the pillow, and the way he licked his lips. Yes, maybe it was strange that someone hadn’t snapped him up long since and maybe Harry distrusted too many people who he thought only wanted to sleep with the Boy-Who-Lived, but who cared?
Draco had him now.
*
Harry could hear the groans breaking like bubbles past his ears. His skin shook and his body clasped Draco as if he was someone else, someone who had even more passion than Harry had been able to envision himself having.
But it didn’t matter, because Draco was here now. Firm beneath his hands, salty on his tongue, loud in his ears.
Harry raised his head as best as he could when he was rocking and sliding across the bed and gave Draco another kiss, this one on the chest. Draco stared down at him, a light spreading in his eyes.
“Yes,” Harry said, and then managed to straighten himself out for a minute when Draco wasn’t pounding his arse and thrust downwards once.
That drove Draco crazy. Harry found himself laughing breathlessly as Draco froze, then began to thrust again, and again, and again, and again, until Harry’s doubts were shaken out of him. Fucked out of him. Because Draco was here.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
Harry kept kissing Draco’s arms, his chest, his nipples, while Draco braced himself with hands on the pillow and sheets, and rode Harry until both of them were ready to be ripped apart with the pleasure.
Harry kept squeezing until his took him, though. Because he knew that he didn’t want to go alone, and he wanted to share this with Draco as Draco was sharing so much with him, and when his orgasm seized him, he had the satisfaction of wetness spurting inside him and knowing he had succeeded.
*
Draco lay so heavily on Harry he worried for a second he was crushing him. But he would just have to lie there and go on crushing him, for the moment, because the thought of stirring wasn’t something he could muster any interest in.
“You—all right, Draco?”
Draco snorted breathlessly and sat up, fixing his eyes on Harry. Looking at him was worth sitting up for. “Of course I am. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question instead of the other way around?”
“Like you would have hurt me,” Harry scoffed. He reached up and rested his palm over Draco’s heart. Draco blinked at the intimate gesture, but Harry didn’t act as if he’d done anything unusual. “But I wanted to know if you were all right with this. With everything. Because I don’t think I could give it up. Not now.”
Draco’s breath caught at the directness, and the power in Harry’s eyes, and the vulnerability shining there, too. Harry knew he might be hurt, but he had gone ahead and admitted this anyway.
Draco reached down and caught Harry’s hand, gently wrapping his fingers around Harry’s, running a tickling touch of nail down the center of Harry’s palm until he laughed breathlessly. “This is something I want, too,” Draco said.
He thought his words sounded pathetic, since he was hardly able to say them, but Harry lunged up and kissed him clumsily, wetly, enthusiastically. Draco ended up bowling down onto the bed again, and Harry rolled up on top of him and gazed at him in the way of someone who was happy about something they’d purchased.
“I want to say one other thing, too, though,” Draco said.
“Go ahead.” Harry wriggled his elbows and seemed to settle more heavily in place.
“I really do want you to stop leaping in between me and danger. Or even between other people and danger. You have the Elder Wand now, and you’ve put aside whatever qualms kept you from mastering it. Use it.”
Harry nodded slowly. “I could feel the wand pulsing in my hand while Parkinson’s curse was running through me, you know? As if it was trying to punish me for not using it to stop her. The Wand isn’t going to let me forget about it for long. I promise to try better.”
Even if it was the Elder Wand and not Harry who had decided that change, at least Draco was satisfied it was going to happen. He reached up and kissed Harry soundly, enough to make Harry melt and run like honey down his chest. “Then let’s go to sleep. I assume you probably need to be up early in the morning to work on that smuggling case.”
“They’ll let me have some time off,” Harry murmured sleepily into his hair. “I was a peacock until this morning, for Merlin’s sake.”
“And who was responsible for getting you back to humanity? And capturing Pansy? And making sure that you got to capture the smugglers—”
“Fine, you can have the morning off, too.”
Draco clasped his arms around Harry’s waist, and was happy.
*
Harry opened his eyes when a stray shaft of moonlight traveled through the curtains and struck his eyes. Rolling over, he considered Draco.
Draco was breathing in gentle silence, his breaths the only sound. His lips were parted, his hair tussled, and his back still marked with the scratches Harry had given him. He had one arm sprawled out where Harry had been resting until he moved.
Once, Harry had been almost afraid to get what he desired. He had been afraid that Draco wouldn’t live up to the image he’d built in his mind. How could he? Harry didn’t really know Draco, or at least he’d thought he didn’t. He wanted him, he cared for him, but he’d thought it was better that they continue to go their separate ways. It was preferable to being disappointed, or just discarded when he tried to explain and Draco stared at him incredulously.
I ought to have known he’d live up to it. This is Draco Malfoy we’re talking about.
Harry smiled and rolled back into the space he’d been. Draco’s arm immediately tightened, and he turned to bury his nose in Harry’s shoulder without ever waking up.
Harry closed his eyes, and rejoiced in having hands and arms and human lips and tongue, so that he could tell Draco in many different ways how much he was going to love him.
The End.
*
SP777: I see what you mean. I do have an idea for a wedding fic, but it's rather dark.
And yes, this is the end. I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was fun writing about Harry as a peacock.
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