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Corybantes	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9752 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Just a note: I will
be going out of town on vacation until next Monday and may or may not have
Internet access during that time. This chapter ends with a cliffhanger. On the
advice of some readers, I have decided to post it, but you might want to wait
to read it because the next update could be slow in coming.

Chapter Eleven�Pleasures
and Perceptions

�� Harry
swallowed. It was the thirteenth time he�d done that in the past two minutes.

�� He was lying face-down on a table that Malfoy had Transfigured into
a comfortable bed without a headboard or footboard, and he wore nothing except
a pair of pants. He had wanted to go further, to be completely naked, but his
fingers had started trembling when he tried to pull the pants off, and Malfoy
had shaken his head and whispered that it was fine, that he understood and that
Harry was willing to try and fulfill this fantasy was enough.

�� Harry shut
his eyes. A blush crowded his face, the heat in his cheeks reminding him it was
there whenever he tried to forget.

�� Not that he
could forget, when Malfoy was in the
other room preparing to fulfill his fantasy.

�� Such a stupid fantasy. Harry shifted and nearly got off the
table, but sheer stubbornness in the end, and the fact that he had confessed
his desires to Malfoy and Malfoy hadn�t laughed, kept him there. Nothing exotic about it. I don�t want to have sex with animals or
turn other people into my servants. I want a massage, someone I trust to touch
me and make me feel good in a simple way. I want the feeling that I can utterly
relax with someone else, and not have that person judge me as weak for my loss
of control.

�� It was a
stupid thing to be so nervous about. That was the reason he had expected Malfoy
to laugh. He must have heard much sexier things,
things that he would have preferred to do with Harry.

�� But Malfoy
had nodded and smiled faintly, the kind of expression that said many things
about Harry made sense now, and kissed his forehead. �Then I�ll go into the
other room and consider what kind of oil I should use,� he said. �Unless oil isn�t part of your fantasies?�

�� Harry had
scanned his face anxiously. He knew that Malfoy wasn�t the perfect statue he
pretended to be, because he clenched his hands together with impatience now and
then in his desire to get on with things. But Harry was more interested in
whether he was biting his cheek, which would indicate that he was trying to
hold back laughter.

�� There was
nothing like that. If anything, the little movements Malfoy made that broke
through his fa�ade seemed to say that he was having trouble holding himself back, rather than holding himself back
from walking away.

�� Oil will
work fine,� Harry had whispered. His fantasy hadn�t got further than the
thought of warm hands rubbing over his skin and the fact that those warm hands
would belong to someone he trusted not to make fun of him.

�� Now, he
shifted and pressed his face into the Transfigured mattress as he stifled a
groan. The mere thought was arousing him.
How childish was it that the thought of being with someone he trusted could
arouse him?

�� Are you
all right, Harry?�

�� Harry
gasped and gripped the sides of the bed, or massage table, or whatever it was,
tightly. His thoughts were sliding and blending again the way they had when he
was in the throes of a breakdown. �I�ll be all right,� he muttered. �But I
think I�m going to die of embarrassment before we finish here.�

�� Are you?�
Malfoy had moved nearer, Harry knew that from the sound of his footsteps, but
his voice still sounded too near and shockingly intimate. There was no laughter
in that voice, no matter how hard Harry listened for
it. �I hope that you don�t. I hope I can show you that there�s nothing to be
embarrassed about, just as there�s nothing to fear, in this room.�

�� But it�s
so small,� Harry said, burying his
face completely so that he wouldn�t be tempted to turn his head around and try
to speak to Malfoy. �I don�t�it was so small a thing to want, and it was so
small that I shouldn�t have been afraid of it. Why would you want to help
someone who�s as cowardly as I am?�

�� Malfoy�s
hands shocked him into silence, or God knew how long his nervous babbling would
have continued. Harry�s mouth dropped open when he felt how warm they were. Maybe they were warmer
than normal because of the sparkling oil that coated the palms and fingers, but
he didn�t care. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, shaking.

�� Malfoy was
rubbing his shoulders in broad, firm strokes, traveling towards the middle of
his back. His thumbs touched in the middle and dug deep, making Harry arch in
pain as they found a knot of tension there. Malfoy probed at it until the
tension faded and Harry found himself flopping forwards onto the massage table.

�� He might
have tried to hang onto his control and present a stern face, but nothing could
have stilled the shudders traveling through his body or the way his toes and
his fingers flexed and curled. Malfoy wasn�t going to be fooled about his
reaction.

�� Ah, good,�
Malfoy whispered. He was standing back from Harry at least a little�he had to
be, to have his hands at that certain angle, Harry thought�but his voice still
sounded as warm and close as though he were whispering in Harry�s ear. �I
wondered what you would look like when you finally let go and allowed yourself
to feel. I dare say that I knew you
would look magnificent, but it�s always nice to see one�s visions come true.�

�� Harry shook
his head. When he looked at the walls in front of him, even though they were
the familiar walls of his sitting room, they sparkled and shifted through a red
and blue haze. He tried to say something, but his breath escaped in long sighs
instead of the words he wanted to use.

�� Then he had
to lower his head again as Malfoy�s hands traveled down to the middle of his
back and concentrated there, and words were useless.

�� Tension he
hadn�t known he still carried, tension that seemed four or five years old, was
flooding out of him. His mind roamed around the way it did before he went to
sleep, touching on thoughts of work and torture and Auror training and the fact
of his quiet but constant disagreements with Ron and Hermione, but nothing
distressed him. The thoughts sparked once, as if they were going to light on
fire, and then tumbled down and vanished in a shower of falling embers. When
his eyes slid shut, Harry hardly noticed at first, because his mind was so busy
becoming a more serene place.

�� Oh,�
Malfoy said, his voice deep and guttural. �Yes.� He turned to the side so that he
could reach Harry�s flank, and the whole skin of his bare arm swept down the
middle of Harry�s spine.

�� Harry
grunted and twitched his head restlessly back and forth. The mere touch of
naked skin was like the touch of fire. And it didn�t help that the skin Malfoy
was touching now, along his ribs, was probably the most sensitive skin on his
body.

�� Laugh, if
you need to and I�m tickling you.� Malfoy�s voice had deepened again, and Harry
would have teased him about sounding so animal if he had any breath left. �I
don�t mind. I�m not going to take it as a comment on my massage skills.�

�� Harry found
the strength to power words again from somewhere at the bottom of his being. �Not�wanting
to laugh,� he said. His neck had relaxed to the point where he found it hard to
lift his head, so he didn�t, but turned it to the side so that his lips could
move free of the pillow and Malfoy had a better chance of understanding him. �Wanting to moan.�

�� What�s
stopping you, then?� Malfoy�s voice was a breathless challenge. He dug in with
his fingers on the right and swept his fingers down in a light, strumming
motion along Harry�s ribs on the left.

�� The soft,
hoarse sound that Harry made in response seemed to tear open his mouth and work
his lungs on its own. Harry was floating again, relinquishing control over his
body the way he had when he was mumbling nonsense to Malfoy last night, but
this time, he didn�t mind, because he knew there was someone who would take
care of him and make sure that his lack of control didn�t force him to fall
apart.

�� Someone to take care of him.

�� Malfoy repeated
the stroking motion, this time on both of Harry�s
sides, and Harry sighed and all but sang in response. More than one fantasy was
coming true right now, though he didn�t know if Malfoy knew that. The knowledge
sank into his head and fused with the pleasure of the massage and being able to
trust Malfoy. That pleasure turned slowly through him, like some pinwheel
spinning alone in the middle of space, and then exploded and extended all down
his limbs.

�� Harry
shifted in restless, growing desire. His cock was hard enough that the mere
cradling touch of the cloth against it felt intolerable. His hips flexed, and
he didn�t know if he thrust or not. His body was heavy and languorous, as well
as ready and eager. He was alert but deeply relaxed in the way that he
sometimes felt when he woke up early but didn�t want to get out of bed.

�� He had
never known he could feel like this.

�� And it was Malfoy who made him feel it.

�� Wonder
complemented the pleasure. Harry found himself wanting to turn over to look at
Malfoy, so that Malfoy could at least see his expression. Merlin knew that
Harry could never find all the words that would embody his feelings.

�� But rolling
over would disrupt the massage, and now Malfoy had moved his hands down, his
fingertips lightly stroking Harry�s arse. Harry�s breath caught in his throat.
He spread his legs, and then waited.

�� Harry?� Malfoy
whispered. �Is it all right if I touch you here?� One finger touched down,
finally, caressing a line up the cloth of his pants that was almost, but not
quite, identical to the line up to his hole.

�� Yes,�
Harry said, and wondered for a moment if he had sounded too eager, but when
Malfoy stroked him again, the question faded, and he was left with nothing but
need. �Yes, please.�

�� He thought
he could hear a subdued smile in Malfoy�s voice when he spoke again, saying, �All
right, thank you,� but there was still no laughter, and then his fingers were
working into Harry�s buttocks, spreading them apart, dipping between them,
bending the cloth. Harry dropped his head forwards on his arms and groaned
blissfully.

�� And then
time seemed to melt or fly away, and there was nothing in the world but Malfoy�s fingers and the way
his hands made Harry feel. He sank further into the haze than he had when
Malfoy was simply massaging his back, his breaths deepening until he sounded as
if he was hypnotized, his head lolling to the side. His eyes alternately opened
and fluttered shut. He seemed to have no strength to keep them in one
particular position.

�� Malfoy,�
he whispered, and rolled the name around on his tongue, adding a length to the
last vowel and then to the first one.

�� My other
name,� Malfoy whispered at last, when so much time had passed that Harry
thought his hands must surely be getting tired, except that they never faltered
and never stopped stroking. �Say it.�

�� Harry
smiled. Malfoy was doing so much to make him feel good, and it seemed to him
that he would like to do this small thing to make Malfoy feel good in return.

�� Besides, it
had vowels the way Malfoy�s other name did, so that he could stretch it.

�� Draco,� he
said. This time, his eyes happened to be open, and he managed to turn his head
so that his cheek was resting on his piled arms and he could look directly at
Malfoy�s face. �Draaaco.�

�� Malfoy�s
face was violently flushed. His lips were parted, his eyes so dark that Harry
thought the pupil had taken them over entirely. His cool mask was shattered,
and Harry felt a flash of pride that he had managed to affect Malfoy as much as
Malfoy had managed to affect him.

�� Of course,
Malfoy had looked at him like this before. But there had been hints of madness
to his gaze and expression then, and Harry didn�t think they were there this time.
He just looked very lustful and very�

�� Harry
pulled himself back from the direction that his thoughts would have taken, because
there were still some things that he didn�t think he could say, even to
himself. He lowered his eyes to the mattress, and Malfoy�s fingers promptly
stiffened and dug harder into his arse. Harry gasped and found himself lifting
it towards those fingers. He hadn�t even known that he liked the sensation of
someone touching him like that. It felt so good that he thought it was a
terrible thing he had gone this long not knowing that about himself.

�� Look at me
again.� Malfoy�s voice had always been perfectly pitched, but now it wavered
and trembled and had a sound of uncertain heat that Harry recognized from those
first moments when he was giving in to his fantasy and had thought Malfoy might
laugh at him. �Please.�

�� Harry
twisted his head, the pleasure seeming to give extra strength to his muscles
this time instead of take it away, and met Malfoy�s eyes.

�� Malfoy stared
back at him, blinking only rarely and reluctantly. Then he took his hands away
from Harry�s arse�Harry shifted in protest�and bent down, putting them on his
shoulders. Harry let himself be rolled over before he thought about it.

�� Then he
thought about what else Malfoy was likely to see, and blushed and tried to
bring his hands together over his swollen groin.

�� Malfoy
caught his wrists, with a delicacy that made Harry lose his breath all over
again. He ducked his head under their joined hands, his eyes searching Harry�s
face. When he breathed out, the air seemed to touch every part of Harry�s bare
chest, which he knew wasn�t physically possible and must be an exaggeration of
his imagination, but it was the way he felt.

�� Let me
see,� Malfoy whispered. �Be undisguised in front of me. That�s been a fantasy
of mine as long as I�ve thought about you. Please?�

�� Harry
shuddered. Even though the flush in his cheeks urged him to cover up and keep
Malfoy from seeing him�if he could do
that when Malfoy had already seen so much�the thick voice of the pleasure in
his head kept pointing out that someone he trusted and who cared for him would
be able to see every part of him.

�� And so far,
Malfoy hadn�t laughed.

�� He nodded
and then lay back, spreading his legs the way he had when he was lying on his
front. His cheeks were so red that he thought he was going to scorch himself if
he tried to cover up the blush, so he dropped his hands to his sides the moment Malfoy released them and kept them resolutely
there.

�� Now I only have to survive the next few
minutes.

�� Malfoy
stared at him, his cheeks flushing even more. Harry didn�t look down. He had a
good idea about what Malfoy would see, and it wasn�t that impressive�certainly nothing worth looking at with that eager
gaze.

�� Then Malfoy
reached down and stroked a thin line up the middle of Harry�s cock, the same
way he had touched his arse.

�� Harry cried
out softly, so shocked by the sensations flooding through him that he couldn�t move.
He hadn�t given Malfoy permission to do that. Still, as Malfoy closed his
fingers around Harry�s cock, it didn�t seem to matter. Malfoy was being pushed
faster and farther than he�d probably planned to go by his own desire, and that
was flattering as fuck.

�� Besides, if Harry didn�t get to be in control of himself anymore,
than he didn�t see why Malfoy should
get to be in control of himself, either.

�� Malfoy
simply stared, now and then licking his lips. Then he said,
his words so fast that it took Harry a minute to understand what he was saying,
�Harry, can I touch you? Let me bring you off. Please.�

�� You�re
already touching me,� Harry said through dry lips, but Malfoy didn�t appear to
have heard him, and Harry was glad. He didn�t want Malfoy to back off, he didn�t
want to ruin his confidence, but it seemed that part of Harry was determined to
sabotage his pleasure at the same time he experienced it.

�� Yes,� he
said.

�� Malfoy gave
his own cry of pleasure and relief, and started to stroke. Harry closed his
eyes, because with the drag of fabric over his erection, he could do nothing
else.

�� He
wondered, through the haze descending on him again, if he should have asked
Malfoy to take the pants off, but then he decided that he liked this better.
The way the cloth shifted and rested Malfoy�s stroking fingers was like the way
the tension in Harry�s muscles had resisted the massage. Harry squirmed and
spread his legs and dug into the mattress with his shoulders and reached down
to circle his fingers around Malfoy�s wrist so that he could feel the rhythm of
the stroking better, and the movements were all instinctive, not done because
he thought he had to or because he was wondering if they would make Malfoy like
him better.

�� He�d never
felt like this with a lover. Never. He�d never had the
feeling that they stopped seeing him as a hero or a savior. He�d never had the
feeling of just being in one body and responding to someone in another.

�� He cried
out even though his orgasm hadn�t arrived yet, his body so limp and loose he
wasn�t sure if he could come. There
was only one source of delicious tightening in him, and it was in his groin.
But that wasn�t much, just enough to keep his attention focused and sweetly
alert, like the light way that Malfoy had touched his arse at first.

�� So beautiful,� Malfoy whispered. �I have so
many fantasies, but so many of them come down to you, being open like this.
Giving me what I want, what no other person has ever seen.�

�� Harry pried
his eyes open and stared up at Malfoy. Or maybe he should call this brilliant,
wet-eyed, slack-mouthed creature Draco.

�� He did feel
a distant amusement that, even now, Draco�s fantasies mingled sheer desire with
the longing to possess something that other people didn�t have�

�� Then the
orgasm came and burned him to silence, taking his self-consciousness and fear
with it.

�� Harry had
long known that it was possible to pass out from pain. He hadn�t experienced
the blankness that gripped him the moment his pleasure finished, so that it was
like the falling of white sparks off a darkened cliff.

*

�� His waking
was much more comfortable than the last one. This time, he woke up in the warm
arms that had held him the last time he drifted off to sleep, and his body felt
as rested and relaxed as it had when Draco was massaging him. Harry turned his
head and buried his nose in the blond hair.

�� Draco was
talking, and his voice was soft and low, and Harry
thought he could have listened to it forever, for the sound and the content. It
was strange, and exhilarating, that in this moment, Draco had become a person
he wanted to listen to. Maybe that
would change in a short time, but for right now, there was this.

�� wanted so much to do things for other people. It�s
strange, how much after the war I found out that I wanted to have power over
others by offering them things. Gifts, space, privacy, the fulfillment of their fetishes.

�� I would be
happier if I knew where it came from, because of course my father taught me
that a Malfoy always had to know himself and bad things would happen if he didn�t.�
Draco snorted. The sound moved Harry�s hair around. �If my father had followed
his own advice, he would know that he didn�t really want to serve the Dark
Lord. But anyway.

�� But it�s
there. I gain power, but I also gain pleasure, and I give power and pleasure. The exchange is unbalanced, and it�s
equal, and there are horrible aspects to what I do and wonderful aspects. The
problem is that I think most of the people who come to Corybantes only see the
one and ignore the other.� Draco turned towards him; Harry could tell from the
way his nose was now nudging Harry�s cheek. �I thought that was the problem
with you at first. That you sensed my desire to be in power as well as give
people what they want, and were disgusted by it.�

�� I wasn�t
thinking that clearly then,� Harry said, from a lulled, warm place where he
could speak the truth. �I was disgusted by my own desire to surrender and
indulge.�

�� I know
that now.� Draco stroked his hair again. His hand was trembling, and his words
had become slurred and fast, as they had when he first touched Harry. �I would
do anything for my clients. I try so
hard to find the spells that will give them what they want, even if I don�t
know what those spells are when they first come to me or if they�ve done
research and failed to find what they were looking for. I want to give them a
safe place, and a place to act out their desires, and a place that is the living
embodiment of their dreams. Take all that, and multiply it sixty times, and
that�s what I feel for you, Harry. Don�t ever worry about me being selfless,
please. To give you what you want is what
I want.�

�� I know,�
Harry whispered, closing his eyes. �I know that now.� He�d heard Draco say the
same sort of thing before, but he hadn�t paid much attention. Now he knew.
Draco couldn�t have held himself back so long before stroking Harry if part of
him hadn�t also found the massage satisfying.

�� There was a
quiet, warm time when he drifted in motionlessness, and then he half-woke and
heard Draco breathing and knew he�d gone to sleep.

�� And then he
felt two thoughts arc across his mind like falling stars and meet in a burst of
splendor that birthed a new star entirely.

�� I would do anything for my clients. Draco�s voice.

�� Everything here is his. Under
his control, produced from his mind, executed�or not�at his command.
Leon�s voice.

�� And the new
thought:

�� Keatson wanted to taste the sharp edge of death.
That�s not safe. It�s not something that the fantasy rooms of Corybantes could
truly give him as long as they only gave him illusions and left him alive
afterwards. It�s not something that his family would have let him do if they knew
about it.

�� Draco would do anything for his clients, and everything in the club is under his control.

�� The fantasies normally never hurt anyone. No
one can get past the wards on the rooms. No one can bring a weapon into them.

�� Unless Draco wants them to.

�� And Draco wants what his clients want.

�� Under the
starlight in his mind, Harry shivered.

�� And then,
because he had to, he put a hand on Draco�s shoulder and shook him awake.

*

�� callistianstar: Thank you!

�� Tree802:
Well, �Dark� might be a bit of an overstatement�

�� Dragon:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� hieisdragoness18:
I�ve done several like that (though admittedly not as many as the ones where
Harry needs Draco�s help). �Rejoicing in Their Strength,� �Siege Mentality,�
and arguably �The Same Species as Shakespeare,� though in that one both Harry
and Draco are crazy with their obsessions; Harry
recovers faster, though.

�� MewMew2:
Thanks!

�� chantalmalfoy: Thanks!
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