Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 107
- 108
- 109
Reconnecting
Draco stood in the dimness of their bedroom, carefully stripping off his clothes. His muscles pulled painfully. The bruises dotting his torso and thighs hurt with a deep pervading ache, but that was not why a frown sat on his features. Harry was already in the bathroom, getting it ready for Draco, and there was a heaviness in the bond that was growing with every minute that passed, like ice stealing across the surface of a lake.
Draco left his clothes in a pile on the floor and gingerly pulled on his own robe before heading into the bathroom. Harry stood naked by the shower, arm in the spray, adjusting the temperature. His robe was folded carefully on the toilet seat lid and his glasses were set carefully on the counter by the sink. The lead in Draco’s stomach grew to the size of a fist as his boy’s dark head didn’t lift to look at him, instead remaining ducked.
Draco turned the lock on the door and tossed his robe carelessly half into the sink. He stood naked before Harry, head tilted, considering. “Was it the kiss?” he asked. He couldn’t think of anything else that would make Harry feel so on edge, the bond heavy with… was it dread? Shame? Draco couldn’t tell. It was the only thing Draco could think of, but he was completely baffled why it would have upset Harry at all.
Harry looked up in confusion, green eyes bare and bright. “Kiss?”
“That I gave Sirius,” Draco clarified.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. Draco knew him - knew him inside and out. Knew his darkness, the truth of his beginning, had known him when he was Freak, had been the one to shape him into something better. And still, despite knowing the depth of Harry’s darkness, Draco had stared straight into Harry’s soul, his eyes burning silver, and promised…
“One day, Harry, you’ll wear this dress or one like it in front of the world. And everyone will understand what you are to me. What we are to each other. And I’ll marry you. I’ll take you as my bride. And the world will know you’re mine and no one else’s…”
That was so much more than Harry had ever expected… To follow Draco, to take care of him, to love him - yes, of course! But for Draco to know who Harry truly was and want him as his bride, a partner beloved and cherished… It made Harry completely breathless just to think about it! Harry would forever more carry those words like fire burning just under his skin …
Compared to all that… It hadn’t even occurred to him to be bothered by Draco kissing Sirius (to comfort the man, or had it been a test?) Either way, it hadn’t bothered Harry at all. So, no… That small kiss wasn’t what was making Harry’s stomach churn.
Harry dropped gracefully to his knees and raised his hand palm up so that Draco could see the evidence of his sin. “I knew I was tired,” he confessed quietly. “But I kept going anyway. I messed up my throw and cut my fingers. Remus and Sirius healed it with a spell.”
Draco frowned and grabbed Harry’s hand, bending to look at it closely. A thin white line that hadn’t been there a few hours before ran across the underside of all four of Harry’s fingers. It looked thickest across the ring and pinky finger. Draco traced the new scar. “How bad was it?”
Harry hung his head, vision filled with the white tile of the bathroom floor. The feel of Draco’s hand holding his sent warmth straight through him. He thrilled in even that small touch, and his guilt deepened because he didn’t deserve it. His knees were already aching, and he relished in it as his rightful punishment. “Too the bone,” he confessed.
“Are you sure they healed you properly?” Draco asked as neutrally as he could, his hand tightening reflexively around Harry’s. He couldn’t look away from that thin white scar.
Harry’s head hung even further. “There’s a little tightness when I close my hand into a fist, but I think it will get better the more I move my fingers around.”
Draco’s eyes finally shifted past Harry’s hand and took in the bowed head and kneeling position of his boy. He considered his next move.
He’d known Harry might hurt himself while practicing with knives, Liam had made sure they both understood the danger, but Draco couldn’t keep Harry locked in a bubble. The boy wouldn’t survive that; he’d self-destruct with self-hatred within weeks! Harry was obsessed with being useful. And with Voldemort’s soul still attached to Harry’s, Draco couldn’t be sure Harry wouldn’t have to fight at some point, anyway. So Harry’s best chance at happiness and survival was to learn how to defend himself.
No, it wasn’t because of the cut that sent ice slicing through Draco’s core. Not really. It was because Harry still too easily dismissed danger to himself. Harry always pushed himself too hard. Always held himself to the impossible standard of perfection, and he always sought punishment when he fell short. Draco knew he couldn’t do much about that, but he could at least drill the importance of physical safety into the boy. Self-sacrifice was never an option! Just the thought of Harry dying to protect him made Draco feel literally sick.
Eyes lidded as he thought it through, Draco continued to run his thumb over the scar. Harry remained perfectly motionless at his feet, head bowed, eyes on the cold tile. Steam was beginning to fill the bathroom, making Draco a pale, indistinct shape in the mirror. The hissing sound of water hitting the shower floor was almost soothing.
“I want you to think about your answer carefully,” Draco said softly, thumb still caressing Harry’s fingers. He waited a minute, to be sure Harry was listening. “Am I mad about the cut?”
Harry bit his lip. His muscles clenched and trembled with the effort of holding perfectly still. Sweat was beginning to dampen his hairline. Was Draco mad about the cut? His mind raced, desperate for the right answer, to not disappoint Draco any further, to redeem himself. Think, Harry, he hissed to himself viciously. Why is Draco mad? He closed his eyes tight and bit his lip harder.
Draco waited patiently. He watched, as the boy begin to tremble, first in his arm from the effort of holding it aloft, then down his torso, and listened to the way Harry began to breathe faster, a hiss between clenched teeth. “Well?” he prompted gently.
Harry released his lip. His voice was faint, trembling with anxiety. “You’re mad… I let myself get hurt?”
Draco crouched, ignoring the bruises blooming on his thigh. His hand reached up, clasping Harry’s wrist firmly to hold the boy’s hand in the air, stretched above Harry’s head. He smiled, soft and sweet, and leaned forward to kiss Harry’s bitten lip, taking it between his own teeth playfully. Harry’s anxiety broke apart with the clean wash of relief.
Draco smiled and pulled back. “Close, Harry. Very close. Good job.” He held Harry’s eyes, waiting for Harry’s disappointment at a non-perfect answer to ebb before continuing. “I’m mad because you thought about it. You knew you were tired. And you chose to throw it anyway. This wasn’t an unavoidable accident, Harry. Those are going to happen. No, this was different. This was preventable. You could have made a different choice. To take a break. So the right answer is: I’m mad you let yourself get hurt when you could have prevented it.”
Harry was crying now as Draco laid out his transgressions. Draco was right. Absolutely right. “Yes, Draco,” he confessed through his tears. His arm was burning from being held aloft so long. His knees throbbed sharply. He embraced those minor pains. “Sorry, Draco. Sorry.”
“I know you are,” Draco murmured, barely loud enough to be heard. He rose out of the crouch, his thigh screaming, and kissed Harry’s violently trembling fingertips. He released Harry’s wrist and pressed down on the offered hand, signaling for Harry to return it to his side. “What would have happened if Remus wasn’t there to heal it?” he asked, voice matter-of-fact. They both already knew the answer, so he moved past Harry to the shower, stepping under the deliciously warm spray.
“I would’ve had to heal it,” Harry answered, still kneeling, his back to Draco, voice raw.
Draco nodded, slicking his wet hair back. “And without me? Without using our bond to amplify your magic?”
Harry cringed. “I would have exhausted myself.”
“So that’s what we’re going to pretend happened. Remus won’t always be there, after all. Stand up. Look at me.”
Harry got stiffly to his feet and obeyed, his gut burning with guilt, his face wet with tears.
Draco gave him an understanding smile and reached for him. “We’re going to pretend you’re too tired to heal me because you had to heal yourself without me, so no healing me tonight.”
Harry’s eyes widened in horror, eyes flashing to the darkening bruises littering Draco’s body: thigh, ribs, jaw.
Draco lifted an eyebrow. “Did you forget I rely on you to take care of me?”
“No, Draco!” Harry denied hotly. He never forgot that.
Expression turning into something almost sly, Draco gave a smile, eyes lidded, and said, “Prove it. But no healing,” he reminded.
Harry moved instantly. He soaped his hands and began to gently massage Draco’s unbruised skin. He couldn’t erase Draco’s pain, but he could still give him pleasure. The warm water soothed his own aching muscles and abused knees, but that was all background noise. His complete focus was on where he touched Draco.
The scent of vanilla filled the humid air as Harry massaged body wash over Draco’s shoulders and arms. Draco’s skin, heavily scarred, was still a beautiful pale white, almost like porcelain, and Harry adored touching every silken inch.
Draco was nearing twelve years old. He was growing taller, his body changing so slowly it was almost unnoticeable, but not to Harry. He noticed the slight widening of his shoulders, the longer fingers, growing feet. The subtle, soft hair just barely beginning to grow under his arms and the few spare, dark blond hairs that had appeared on his balls.
Draco leaned languidly against the warmed tiles as Harry’s fingers loosened the knots he found. Happy pleasure - began to break apart the - guilt regret shame that vibrated down the bond and into Draco, making him relax further. He sank his hand into Harry’s wet hair, gently rubbing at the boy’s scalp. All the stress and fear disappeared. Only Harry existed - Harry and hot water and languid pleasure.
“So good,” he praised, letting his eyes fall closed, listening to the sounds of the warm water and enjoying Harry’s hands on him.
Harry blushed red, heart thudding in his throat. Slowly, he sank to his tender knees to begin working on Draco’s bruised thighs and his leanly-muscled calves. As he stared up at Draco, there was no denying the blond was feeling good, and that sent - pride - sparkling through his insides. It made him want to earn more of that sweet praise.
Hands sliding down Draco’s calf, Harry carefully lifted the blond’s foot, giving Draco enough time to brace his weight, before Harry placed it in his lap. He began to massage the arch, his thumbs pressing in firmly and rubbing his knuckles under the arch. Draco groaned and, breathlessly, Harry twisted his finger gently between each toe. Draco actually gasped and his member, already half-stiff, began to harden in earnest. Harry’s cheeks grew even hotter; his heart pumped faster.
After massaging Draco’s foot for several minutes, he made sure to rinse the soap off completely before setting it back down and reaching for the other one. His knees ached terribly on the hard floor of the shower, but he hardly noticed. Harry was captivated by the sounds Draco was making, the beauty of his body arching and melting in turns at Harry’s loving touch, and Harry bit back a moan of his own. He dug his knuckles into Draco’s arch and boldly bent forward to suck on the soapy toes.
Draco words fell incoherent from almost slack lips. Harry’s tongue was hot and slick, it lapped at the sensitive skin between his toes sending shivers across his frame. The gentle suction made him gasp and cling to the wall, shocks of pleasure shooting up his nerves. His hips rocked against the air as Harry suddenly sucked hard, going down on his toes, head bobbing, cheeks hollowing. Draco’s dick twitched hard, slapping his lower belly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, hands futilely trying to grab onto the slick wall. His leg gave a twitch and he had to pull it away to keep his footing. “Come here,” he growled and stared hungrily into Harry’s dilated eyes. Arousal throbbed between them in waves. “Turn around. Want your thighs.”
Harry obeyed readily, bracing his arms against the wall. Draco quickly soaped up his inner thighs and Harry began to pant. His skin was humming, burning, and he shuddered and went as limp as he could while still keeping his feet. - Yours - make me yours - let me make you feel good - take care of you - please make me useful - make me yours - the nearly incoherently begging filled his mind, but it never made it past his lips. He was breathless and flying with endorphins and lust. His heart raced and pounded in his throat. Every touch of Draco’s firm hands as he was maneuvered into the position Draco wanted burned like fire - want need please YOURS!
Draco tugged Harry’s hips back and pressed on the boy’s back so that Harry was leaning forward. He had to bend his knees to slot his cock between the boy’s thighs; it was uncomfortable, his bruises hurt, but he was so close it didn't fucking matter. “Cross your ankles,” he growled.
Harry did as he was told, closing his slicked thighs tight around Draco’s hard heat. Then Draco began to move. He bent over Harry’s back, the hot water crashing around them. His hips hit Harry’s ass with a hard smack, the sting immediate. Harry gasped and tried to push back, to hold position and not be flattened by Draco’s force, overwhelmed by Draco’s pleasure…
Oh god! Draco! Yes! Yours! I’m yours! - It took all the strength of Harry’s body to stay upright. He thrilled in the effort, his mind blown with the clawing grip of Draco’s hands on his hips, the blond’s guttural grunts and growls in his ear.
It was a dizzying blur of friction between his slicked thighs, the slap of every hard thrust, and the electrifying sound of Draco’s pleasure. Harry flung his head back, arms trembling under the effort of stabilizing their combined weight. The green of his eyes was swallowed by the black of lust. The humid air seemed to gain weight and life, curling around them, electrifying their drenched skin as their magic twined and curled, pulsing.
Draco reached around and gripped the base of Harry’s dick, preventing him from cumming as he careened over the crest of the wave, hot ecstasy exploding through his body. His hips slapped up against Harry’s ass and thighs one last time, stuttering. A crashing roared in his ears. Everything felt so damn good!
Harry bit his lip hard as he actually felt Draco’s cock pulse between his legs, heard the splatter against tile. He would have cum at the sound of Draco’s sharp cry in his ear, but the fist around his cock was too tight. He was owned completely. Draco had complete control of Harry’s body, and it was so fucking glorious Harry’s eyes rolled in his head. He hovered, feeling the echo of Draco’s pleasure, but not quite in the mix of it. He was Draco’s. Only what Draco allowed would be, and it was such utter perfection his brain nearly melted even as his dick felt fit to burst, verging on agony.
Cheek pressed against the tile, Harry panted and waited, helpless and on the fevered edge of his own orgasm. A fear he hadn’t even realized was there, tensed and coiled poisonously inside him, slowly disintegrated. He had lately begun to make decisions, to take the initiative, and it was nothing short of terrifying, but he could relax. Draco was still in control; he still owned Harry. Harry was safe.
As tears of - love gratitude relief - streaked his cheeks, other sensations slowly seeped in past the throbbing in his cock. Harry’s ass felt pleasantly hot, and he became aware of the weight of Draco still draped over this back. The sound of Draco’s breathing evened out until it became lost once more in the sound of the shower, and the painful edge of denied pleasure slipped father away. Harry groaned as a deep, perfect ache settled in his balls.
Draco slowly peeled himself from Harry’s back and rinsed off in the warm spray. Harry maintained his position - ass out, thighs squeezed together, cheek pressed to the wall - as he hadn’t received a signal that he was allowed to move. He was a fucking gorgeous sight, and Draco was tempted to take a picture:
Slender feet with ankles crossed… The crease of Harry’s thighs pressed tight together, a smear of white cum just under his round, pinked ass cheeks… The slope of his back as he was bent nearly in half… The way his trembling arms splayed across the tile… The lax profile of his face, his cheek pressed against the wall… His wet, black hair obscuring his eyes and falling across his cheeks…
If he wasn’t so drained, Draco would have gotten hard again. Taking in the sight, knowing Harry was his and would always be his, he growled low in his throat. Their magic was still coiled deliciously in the air around them, unfinished, and Draco shivered, enjoying the charged sensation.
Grinning, he smoothed his hand over the curve of Harry’s hip affectionately. “Wash,” he ordered, languid and relaxed.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered, voice hoarse, eyes still dilated with arousal, dick still hard against the top of his thigh.
“Good boy,” Draco praised and kissed Harry’s cheek as Harry came off the wall and stood. “You did so good for me.”
The magic in the air had already begun to dissipate, and Harry realized that the moment in the shower was over. The painful ache in his balls throbbed hotly as Harry remembered he was being punished, remembered why. He watched Draco step out of the shower and limp over to get a towel. The bruises stood out starkly on Draco’s fair skin. They had to hurt, all the more for the workout Draco had just put his body through, and Harry felt a complex tangle of emotion form a lump in his throat.
There was no doubt Draco had wanted it, and the cum still in strings on the tile wall proved that Draco had felt good doing it, but that didn’t change the fact that Draco was hurt and Harry was forbidden from healing him. Because he’d been careless. He hadn’t thought things through. He hadn’t kept his mind on the bigger picture, his bigger purpose.
“I’ll make you my bride.”
Harry was starting to understand what that meant. Together… Married… Bound… And he was starting to understand that it wasn’t something that would happen in some distant, amazing future. Not really. Because… They were already bound, weren’t they? Already together. Harry had known that… Of course he knew that! … but he was starting to understand it in a different way. Harry’s life and Draco’s… They were one and the same. The consequences of his actions would fall on Draco, always, just as the decisions Draco made encompassed Harry, always.
“I’m Draco’s…” he said as he’d said a million times in the past and would say a million times in the future. Slowly, reverently, he added, “And Draco is mine…” He hadn’t said that as often. It was a newer concept, but Harry was beginning to understand what it meant.
“I will make you my bride,” Draco had promised with fiercely sharp silver eyes, but it was a promise that was already in motion, already becoming true. Harry was already halfway down that path and racing toward the fulfillment of that vow.
He stared at the bathroom door, oblivious to the water turning cold, green eyes sparkling and so full of - LOVE - and - AWE - it almost burned through his skin with a force that was hotter and brighter than the sun.
…
Leaning with his back to the door, separated by a bare inch of wood, Draco grinned fiercely and pressed a fist to his chest, trying to contain the emotions thundering through the bond. Blinking tears from his eyes, he whispered, “Yours.” Everything Draco was - everything bright, protective, caring - everything destructive, cruel, and cunning - they were all for Harry. He was Harry’s. And Harry was, “Mine,” Draco rasped, eyes flat silver disks, the word almost a growl in his throat.
Harry was starting to truly get it, and Draco was so fucking proud he could almost howl with laughter. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and push away from the door. Harry was only just beginning to understand. He had come a long way, but he was still overcoming abuse so severe that he still struggled to consider himself human. It didn’t matter, though. Draco would take care of him, just like he'd promised those four years ago in a dark and barren slave hold.
Burning from the inside with Harry’s dawning understanding, Draco buried his face in a pillow. He shifted until he was comfortable and none of his bruises protested too much. He was almost asleep when a slender arm draped softly over his lower back and wet hair tickled the back of his neck as Harry curled against his side.
“I’m sorry, Draco,” Harry whispered. “I won’t forget again. Promise.”
Soft reverent kisses were pressed butterfly soft against his shoulder with - LOVE devotion - and Draco, feeling cherished, sank into a deep, restful sleep. For the first time in days, his sleep was free of nightmares and terror as Harry’s warmth surrounded him.
…
- January 8th -
Harry dreamed of cumming. He dreamed of Draco, skin glistening with sweat. The blond rocked and moaned above him, Harry’s legs cradling his hips. The feel of slick warmth between them, the smell of musk and cum enveloped him. Silver eyes burning.
Harry woke with a gasping cry, hand flying between his legs. Cum was leaking from the tip of his cock, and Harry squeezed the base the way Draco had done the night before. God, it hurt. Whimpering softly, his hips rocked helplessly against the air, body undulating against sheets that clung to his sweaty skin. He was desperate, but even half-asleep and on the verge of a wet dream orgasm he knew he wasn’t allowed, knew he was being punished. Blurry-eyed, he whimpered and looked for Draco.
Soft golden light filtered in through their small window. It fell on Draco’s face and seemed to glow on his pale skin. Blond lashes glinted almost sliver against Draco’s cheeks. His lips were slack in sleep, drool gathered delicately in one corner of his mouth. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, like the ocean tide. He was so beautiful it brought tears to Harry’s eyes.
His fingers trembled as they reached to brush across Draco’s fair cheek, but they stopped just above Draco’s sleep-warmed skin with the absolute certainty that he was not worthy of touching Draco’s perfection. But that didn’t stop his dick from throbbing hotly, aching to be touched, and he quickly clamped down around the base once more. Turning his head, Harry bit his pillow savagely to smother a cry of need.
Slowly the wave of lust faded enough for him to think. Harry blinked tears from his eyes and sat up carefully. He was panting, breath coming harsh and heavy. His movements pulled the blankets down off Draco and Harry’s eyes fastened to the dark bruises that glared darkly on Draco’s pale skin. The sight cooled his head further. He wanted more than anything in the world - more than breathing, more than cumming - to erase those marks.
Harry looked again to the window. It was daytime. Draco had said Harry couldn’t heal him last night. Was his punishment technically over then? Salivating, heart thundering because he knew he was on the edge of disobedience, Harry swallowed a lump of fear and need and crawled forward…
Draco woke with a soft groan, something warm and wet dragging slowly over the crease of his upper thigh and hip, tantalizingly close to his raging hard on. Fluttering his eyes open, he saw early morning light filtering in through their white curtains. “Shit,” he moaned, hand automatically going down toward and landing on Harry’s wild head of hair. Draco’s attention sharpened.
The blankets had been tossed carelessly aside. They were both naked, having fallen into bed right after their shower. The slightly smaller boy was pressed against his side, his bare ass leaning against Draco’s shoulder. A spiky twist of - nervous excitement need - sparked across the bond.
Draco sucked in a sharper breath, his hand tightening on Harry’s hair as the boy’s tongue lapped dangerously close to his balls. Draco was shocked! Harry was always so careful to get permission before touching him - Partly because Draco tended to freak out or have flashbacks if the contact was unexpected and partly because Harry was still afraid that it wasn’t okay to touch other people.
Harry’s tongue dragged slowly down the crease of his thigh, the boy’s back arching slightly as he moved his head. Draco released Harry’s hair and brought his hand up above his head. Before Harry had a chance to tense or sense what was coming, he brought it down in a smack against the boy’s ass. The angle was wrong. It was more a glancing blow than anything truly painful, but the noise was nice and satisfying. Harry came up off his lap with a choked cry, eyes wide as - FEAR - streaked across the bond like lightning.
Draco smirked, still sleepy. Served Harry right. This could have gone totally south if Draco had had a flashback. Harry had taken a risky gamble, but… Draco was okay. In fact, he was more than okay. He gave a purring moan and asked, voice husky with sleep, “Did I tell you to stop?”
“Sorry, Draco,” Harry said in a breathy whisper. Green eyes peered at him over the curve of a shoulder - RELIEF happy love. The boy’s cheeks were red hot and Draco could feel the boy’s heart pounding where Harry’s chest rested against his side. Voice soft and pleading, he asked, “Please?”
Draco grinned and lay back against the pillows. “Yeah. Go for it.”
Instantly his cock was surrounded by wet suction. Harry buried him deep, the head of his dick settling in the back of Harry’s throat, cutting off the boy’s air. Gagging, Harry slowly dragged his mouth up before falling down fast and hard.
“Fuck!” Draco yelled, bringing his hand down again. The smack cracked though the air, punctuating Draco’s cry. Harry gagged harder, trying to cry out, but his throat was blocked. He quickly pulled up, panting, face already tear-streaked and red as he coughed.
“You started it,” Draco growled. “And I told you not to stop.” He grabbed a fistful of Harry’s hair and pressed impatiently. Harry’s lips parted, curled inward to shield his teeth and closed around Draco once more. Draco’s eyes fluttered at the feel of wet heat around him.
Harry began trembling as his head sank on Draco’s rigid member, but the - lust need excitement - drenching the bond told Draco that Harry was enjoying it. Harry’s powerful arousal ramped up his own. Draco was no longer half-asleep and languid. He was sharp and hungry. He held Harry’s head down as he lifted his hips, thrusting upward. The head of his cock slid past the soft entrance to Harry’s throat and was hugged tightly by the boy's convulsive swallowing. It sent lightning through Draco’s system, his whole body went taut and he had a need to thrust wildly, but he was on his back, the leverage was all wrong.
Draco let out a hiss and bounced his hips urgently. The spongy head of his cock was sucked in and out of that soft constriction as Harry’s body struggled, and the sensation made his eyes roll and his fist clench hard in Harry’s hair to keep the boy’s head pinned.
Harry came completely undone. His mouth gaped, his body convulsed, his vision went black with suffocation. Each time his body tried to gasp in air, Draco’s bouncing hips pushed his cock past the seal of his throat, filling him completely. And it felt fucking amazing! Only the sharp pain of Draco’s brutal grip on his hair kept him coherent. His face went red and tight, his eyes bulged even as they rolled; it was all too much. With a surge of - ECSTASY - he lost all control. It felt like his dick exploded as cum splattered the bedsheets under him.
Draco growled, the bond a storm of electric pleasure as Harry convulsed against his side. Releasing Harry’s head, Draco let his hips fall and spanked Harry’s ass again. Harry gasped and spluttered, spit drooling out to soak Draco’s cock and balls. Harry was completely limp, head pillowed on Draco’s thigh - NEEDneedNEED - thundered through the bond as Harry lay completely dazed.
Confused by the lust still saturating the bond, making his mind swim and his blood boil, Draco slid a shaking hand between Harry’s thighs. The boy was still hard as a brick even as he was soaked with cum. Magic coiled and tore at the air. The blankets twisted themselves into knots, the curtains were doing the same. The dresser began to rattle softly. Harry wasn’t done; it was clear he needed more.
Riding high, heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest, Draco laughed and spanked Harry again - smack! “Well? Keep going,” he growled.
Harry weakly, messily, slurped the head of Draco’s cock back into his mouth. It took a minute, but he was able to brace his hands on Draco’s thighs and lift himself up. His arms shook, his head swam, but his whole body still felt like it was on fire. A needy whine escaped him as he let gravity pull his head downward. His throat clenched at the head of Draco’s dick, but before it could grip the rounded tip, Harry was lifting off again. He was desperately sucking air noisily through his nose. His hand slipped, his muscles weak, and he collapsed, shaking, and sank down further on Draco’s cock than ever before.
“Holy fuck!” Draco’s whole body went tense. His heels dug into the bed as he lifted his hips off the mattress. He brought his hand down with more force - smack! “Like that! Just like that!”
Wide eyed, Harry could feel the collar prevent his throat from expanding and squeeze Draco tighter. Harry froze, glorying in the sensation of Draco owning him completely; owning his life, his breath. He pulled off and desperately sucked in air only to plunge back down and slam Draco deep into his throat where the collar held him clenched around Draco’s length.
Draco was right there, filling him up, and the blond’s wild cries of pleasure, the slap of Draco’s hand against his ass, it spurred him on, made him hold to consciousness even as he was being sucked down into darkness. It felt like he was on fire! He was burning alive and flying apart. Harry's heart beat so loud it filled his ears with a roar. The musky smell of Draco’s sex and sweat filled his senses. The taste of Draco’s bitter cum coated his mouth and throat.
Just when Harry was about to faint completely, body going limp, Draco screamed “FUCK!” and held him down, thrusting into his throat one last time as he came hard and dirty. Draco yanked Harry’s mouth off dick and the last bit of cum shot out across Harry’s forehead and cheek. Harry dropped on his side, limp and blind, coughing and hacking, gasping helplessly as Draco, gasping himself, got on his knees to loom over Harry.
Draco leaned down and panted over Harry’s face. The boy’s dick was red and hot and swollen in his fist. It looked painful, cum drizzling helplessly from the tip. He squeezed the base brutally before releasing with a growled order, “Cum for me, Harry. Show me how much you liked that.”
Harry’s body constricted painfully as a surge of - LUST pleasure shock - crashed through he bond. Harry’s eyes rolled completely back, his body convulsed, and as his brain exploded, he blacked out just as he felt his cum explode, splattering across his own jaw and cheek.
Draco was amazed! He’d never seen Harry cum so hard, the punch through he bond was so strong Draco was hard again already. And that was the second time Harry had cum. The sheets were practically soaked under them. Panting, dizzy, Draco stared at Harry in amazement. His boy’s face was filthy with both his cum and Harry’s own. His face was flushed prettily, his lips swollen. Draco moaned and almost painfully fisted his own cock. He came in minutes, shooting delicate ribbons of white across Harry’s chest.
Exhausted, Draco collapsed on his back next to his boy. His body was warm and tingly, and he lifted his head to see that all his bruises were gone. “Little brat,” he said roughly, affection thick in his voice. He let his head fall heavily back on the bed as he tried to catch his breath and waited for the static across the bond to fade and for Harry to regain consciousness.
It took about five minutes. - Contentment pleasure - came into focus like the slow rising of the sun. He turned his head to see Harry’s green eyes flutter open, dazed and still out of it. His face was red and tear-streaked. Cum had dried in his bangs and across both cheeks. Draco shivered, tempted to go another round. He fucking loved Harry messy, but his crotch was pleasantly numb and getting sticky and cold. He grimaced.
Harry blinked dazedly, still incoherent, and Draco felt a warm rush of protective affection. He kissed Harry’s swollen, spit-slicked lips soft as a butterfly’s wing again and again until clarity returned to Harry’s expression.
- LOVE happy pleasure - “Morning, Draco,” he rasped.
Draco snorted. Harry’s voice was fucked, hoarse and raspy. His throat had to be on fire. Draco was about to press his fingers to Harry’s mouth to get the magic healing going, but Harry reached up and touched his throat right above the collar and gave a goofy, blissed out smile.
Draco snorted again. “Fine. You can keep the burn.” He kissed Harry’s nose before sitting up and reaching for the boy still lying bonelessly across the bed. “Come on, beautiful. We both could use a shower.”
Harry’s cheeks turned a darker red.
Draco let him lean on him as they made their way to the bathroom. He hit the light switch and locked the door behind them before tugging a quiet, passive Harry to the bathroom mirror. Gently, Draco took hold of Harry's jaw, forcing the boy to look at their reflection.
“You are, Harry. You’re beautiful. Fucking look at you.”
Draco leaned forward to lick some cum off Harry’s cheek. It was salty and bitter, but the way it made Harry’s breath catch was so damn worth it. His eyes glinted silver as he caught Harry’s gaze in the mirror. “Gorgeous.” Tears filled Harry’s eyes and Draco wrapped his arm around him. “You look amazing. Fucking sexy as hell. Every time I remember you like this…” His fingers tightened on Harry’s jaw, his voice dropped into a growl, his pupils dilated. “I’m going to want a fresh taste of your cum. You’re beautiful, Harry, and I want you. You hear me?”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered in a raspy whisper - LOVE gratitude disbelief. “I love you,” he rasped sweetly, turning to look deep into Draco’s eyes. Harry lifted up slightly on his toes to kiss him. It was soft and sweet, chaste almost, and so full of genuine love that Draco felt his cheeks warm and tears burn his eyes.
Draco wrapped his arms around his boy and held him close. Voice thick, he finally managed to say, “Love you, too, Harry.” Then clearing his throat, Draco gave Harry’s face one last lick before gently pushing the boy toward the shower. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” Then he gave a little laugh, eyes sparkling with humor. “Good thing today’s laundry day. The sheets are worse than we are.”
Harry blushed, head ducking.
Draco pulled him into a quick, open mouthed kiss. “You know I love it,” he said, reassuring the boy and smacked his ass. “Now get into the shower.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry rasped, smiling, his green eyes bright and happy.
Grinning, Draco stepped in behind him.
…
Liam was in the kitchen making coffee when the knock came. He left the coffee pot and grabbed a gun from one of the kitchen drawers. Remus and the dark-haired man, Sirius, were standing on the other side. Face blank of emotion, Liam kept the gun loose in his hand as he opened the door.
“A little early, isn’t it?” he asked, dark blue eyes cold and uninviting. He didn’t move from the open doorway.
Sirius’s hopeful expression sharpened into a scowl. “I have news for Harry. Let me in.”
Instead Liam stepped forward, pulling the door shut behind him. “I may not be magical. I may not know what the hell is going on in your world.” He lifted a hand and pushed Sirius back a step. Taller than Sirius by a few inches, he glared down into the man's shocked eyes. “But what I know is that all that magic crap amounts to nothing if the boys fall apart. They’re fucking brilliant, and it’s easy to forget, but they’re just kids.”
“Liam…” Remus began, but Sirius put his hand out to stop him.
“I’m not a threat,” Sirius said levelly. “I only want to help them.”
Liam gave a cold smile. “Yeah. So I’ve heard. That’s all I’ve heard from that one, too.” He cut his chin at Remus standing silent and tense beside Sirius. “But ever since this one appeared, you people have done nothing but take and demand. Well, I’m here to make it clear that needs to stop.” He stepped right up to Sirius, challenging him. “You need to start thinking about what the boys need and honestly putting them first. Like maybe realizing the kids don’t need you dropping in on them first thing in the fucking morning or maybe making a call to let them know you’re coming so they can be prepared. All this shit is stressful as hell, so maybe put some actual effort into making it easier on them.”
“That’s not fair,” Remus cut in, voice forcibly calm. “We all care about the boys…”
“Really.” Liam was furious now. “Care about them. Do you? Because it doesn’t take a genius to know they need stable ground. They need a home. Cause let me tell you, it ain’t a fucking good feeling to be a kid and have no place to truly call your own. To have no safe place to recover and lick your wounds. Moving the boys around every fucking month between the boot camp rich boy house of hell and the almost family that fell apart when the going got tough… Yeah, sounds like a fucking fantastic idea,” he spat sarcastically. “Sounds like everyone got what they wanted.” He glared at Remus in disgust. “Including you who got to be a part-time friend with no real responsibility for their wellbeing.”
Remus paled but he refused to back down. Some of what Liam was accusing him of was true, but it wasn’t that simple. “The law…”
Liam snorted in disgust. “And that right there is the problem. You let stuff stand in your way of doing what is truly right for the boys. I know my brothers. They’re not as steady as they appear. They’re struggling, and who the hell wouldn’t with all this crap about wars and Dark Lords and dealing prejudice and bullying at school. It’s disgusting what you’re putting those boys through!”
“It’s not us,” Remus snapped, lips parting to reveal white teeth. “We didn’t put the boys in this situation.”
“No.” Liam agreed, some of his anger draining away. “Or I would have killed you.” He gave a wry smile, acknowledging reality. “Or tried at least. I know I don’t stand much of a chance, but I would still try. Because all this shit might really break those boys. And I can’t bear to see it.” He stepped back toward the door. “And if you fucking cared about them like you say, you would feel the same and fucking respect this space a whole lot more. ‘Cause all this bullshit you keep bringing here, it’s toxic, and it’s poisoning yet another place for them. This is our home.”
Sirius looked close to tears. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “I hear you. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been selfish again.”
“Siri…” Remus protested.
Sirius ignored him. “What do you recommend then?”
Liam relaxed a bit and gave Sirius a nod of acknowledgement. “You got shit to say, call us and we’ll meet you somewhere. Hell, the club’s closed during daylight hours, so we could go there and have privacy whenever you wanted. But if you come here, I don’t want you talking about the war and shit. I don’t want you to bring news or demands unless it truly is a fucking emergency. Let them be kids for a goddamn minute, okay?”
Sirius nodded. “I have an appointment with magical child services in a couple hours. That’s what I came to say. I’m going to push for custody of Harry. It will protect him from Andromeda, although I’m not convinced they need protecting from her. She wasn’t like the rest of my family.”
Liam shrugged. “You do what you gotta do, but don’t get in Draco’s without looking into it real good on your own first, ya hear?”
“I’ll do that.” Sirius held out his hand.
Liam took the hand, but he didn’t shake. He yanked Sirius almost violently forward until they were nose to nose again. “Then here’s the best advice I’ll ever give you. Stop focusing just on Harry or you’re fucking screwed. I’m the second line of defense. Draco is the first. First and last, always. Harry is his priority in ways we can never measure up to. You keep cutting Draco out, even just in your head, and you’ll be the one standing all alone in the end.” Liam released him, a dangerous grin cutting across his features. “Or be buried six feet under. Depends on how bad you fucked up.”
Sirius stared back at him like he didn’t understand.
Liam cut his eyes to Remus. “Really? You’re going to leave him in the dark.”
“I’ve told him,” Remus answered, but it was feeble. He knew Sirius didn’t truly understand. Remus’s old insecurities and fears had prevented him from really explaining what exactly Draco was to Harry because then he’d have to explain what he was to Remus.
Sirius caught the guilty note in Remus’s voice and gave his friend a sharp stare.
Liam didn’t care about the argument. He opened the door and called over his shoulder, “I’ll let the boys know you stopped by,” before shutting it firmly behind him again.
Fortunately, the boys weren’t out of their room yet, but unfortunately his coffee was burning. He set his gun on the counter and quickly pulled the pot off the burner. He turned the ceiling fan on to hopefully get rid of the acrid smell and drank the bitter brew regardless. The boys arrived a few minutes later. They looked flushed and glowing not to mentioned really relaxed, and Liam rolled his eyes.
“Morning,” he said wryly. “Sleep well?”
Draco gave an unrepentant grin. “Morning, Liam.”
“Morning,” Harry rasped, giving a soft smile as he began to bustle around the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Liam frowned. “You comin’ down with a cold?”
“He’ll be fine,” Draco brushed off his brother’s concern. “Have some hot tea and honey.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered obediently. He pulled a mug down and filled it with water before setting it in the microwave.
“Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I was thinking we could take a day off of training.” Liam pulled his hair back into the customary ponytail and flashed the boys a grin. “Up for some ice skating?”
Draco frowned. “But…”
“Drey has club business today and Harry should probably give his hand more time to recover. Remus and Sirius stopped by earlier. Sirius is handling Harry’s custody, so there’s nothing more you can do today.” He gave Draco a steady look. “It’s important to have fun, too, you know? We’ve just found each other again and who knows when you’ll have to go back, so let’s make the most of it.”
The war began to push in around Draco once more. The urgency to run was nearly overwhelming. The memory of his mind being invaded, of nearly breaking completely, of Harry fighting for his life without him, of being raped in his sleep while Draco had been sidelined… His failure was enormous. It choked the breath from his lungs. He had to get stronger; he had to do better! He’d almost lost everything, and he couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes.
Harry felt his heart nearly break as Draco’s expression went blank, his grey eyes dark and haunted, his breath coming quick and shallow. He knelt down at the blond’s feet and waited, not sure how to help. He cast Liam a pleading look from behind his black-framed glasses.
Liam came over and crouched down next to his brothers. He put a gentle hand on Harry’s head. He knew better than to touch Draco. Not when he was on the verge of a flashback. “Draco. Hey.” The blond blinked, his eyes coming into focus. Liam gave him a smile. “Hey. There you are. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to take this one step at a time. But you need a chance to decompress or you’re going to snap. Come on. Come skating. You need a break. Harry needs a break. Yeah?”
Draco sighed and brushed his blond bangs behind his ears. Harry was watching him, concern filling his eyes, waiting for his decision. Liam looked so steady, so calm. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath. Then another. He consciously forced his shoulders to relax and his fists to unclench. He fought to get back that feeling of total peace from that morning, remembered Harry coming undone twice and the feel of the burning pleasure between them. It was fine; he was fine. Opening his eyes, he gave both Harry and Liam a smile. It was a bit strained, but it was real. “You’re right,” he said as lightly as he could. “Let’s go ice skating.”
Liam reached out to gently grip Draco’s shoulder. Pride shone in his eyes. Draco was so goddamn strong it was almost painful. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
Chapter end.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. This story is far from being abandoned. I hope to return to regular updates soon. Feedback would be appreciated. About where exactly you’d like Sirius to fit in with the group; how you want Andromeda to reconcile with the boys or if you think it’s more realistic that it take more time; and also how you think Hogwarts would be reordered if Dumbledore did step down.
- 107
- 108
- 109
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Freedom Bound in Chains