Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Conservation of Fame	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 22392 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this story.

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

Chapter Eleven—Twist and Turn

            “One more time,” Draco said when they had sat in silence for some minutes, his voice so soft, so gently falling, that Harry thought it would bury him. Like the snow his smile resembled, like the softness and coldness that appeared to have settled between them. Harry shook his head. His mind was wandering. “Are you going to stay or go?”

            Harry locked eyes with Draco. His mind was still spinning, but he knew what Draco meant. Draco shouldn’t have to make the choice. Or perhaps he had already made his choice. He had told Harry over and over again what he wanted, after all.

            Maybe I should trust him to know what he wants. Maybe I should trust him to enjoy the moment, no matter what happens later.

            “This time?” Harry asked, and stood. “I think…” He twirled the glass of the dark drink that Draco had given him between his fingers for a few minutes, his eyes fastened on Draco’s face.

            Draco winced and half-lowered his head. It was clear what he thought Harry’s answer would be.

            And it was that which decided it.

            “I’m going to stay,” Harry said, and put his glass down, and leaned across the table to put his mouth on Draco’s.

            It didn’t stay that way for very long. Draco surged to his feet and got himself around the table with a sliding, snake-like movement that Harry honestly wouldn’t have thought he was capable of, into Harry’s arms and up against his body. Harry strived back against him, thrilling to the way that Draco pushed, and shoved, and directed him towards the far wall of the dining room.

            Of course it wouldn’t do for Draco to think he could always be in control because Harry was letting him be right now, but he had to give him credit for effort.

            And for making him feel really bloody good.

            Draco pinned him to the wall at last, and kissed him, and kissed him, until Harry was moaning, weak-legged and weak-headed, half-drugged. Draco kept pulling away just when Harry thought the kiss would go on, and then diving back again before Harry could get enough air. There was tongue everywhere, and arms pressing close around him, still pulling and tugging although Harry didn’t think he presented much resistance now.

            Always the challenge, Harry thought, leaning his head back and gasping in the air, feeling his heart hurry and thump along beneath his ribs. Always the bloody competition between us. Although I reckon we want the same thing right now.

            Draco’s hand dropped, pressing him between the legs. Harry rose onto his toes in surprise, and then deliberately put his feet flat and ground himself against Draco’s palm, watching his mouth fall open and his breathing explode in pants.

            “Anything you can do, I can do, too,” Harry muttered at him, and then carried the battle to Draco, kissing him, nipping at his lips and then tugging his mouth away to go to work on Draco’s neck. Some of his lovers in the past—the disguised ones, the ones he had without them knowing he was Harry Potter—had really liked this.

            What will he think, what will he do, if he finds out?

            But Harry put that concern firmly to the side for now, and concentrated on the fact that he was making Draco feel as good as Draco had made him feel. Draco seemed to be thinking that way, too, if the way he pointed his cock at Harry and jerked his hips was any indication.

            Harry winked at him and knelt down, curving his wand around Draco’s legs in a slow, sensuous gesture. Cloth unraveled behind the movements of the wand, coiling and falling, and Draco’s eyes darkened.

            “You’re paying for those,” he pointed out.

            “I look forward to how you’ll make me do that,” Harry said, and then lunged up to take Draco’s mouth in his own. Draco clung to him with hands gone greedy, with fingers become claws, trying to get under his shirt and hurt him or hold him, Harry wasn’t sure which. He shivered and went back down so that he was kneeling, and opened his mouth.

            “Wait,” Draco whispered.

            Harry blinked and stared at him in something he had to admit was close to disbelief. Draco wanted him to stop, just when they were getting close to what his body obviously yearned for?

            But because it was what Draco had said he wanted, he waited, balancing himself on one knee and clutching a bit at Draco’s legs to hold himself there and keep from toppling.

            “I want you,” Draco said, and then drew him up, kissing him again, more of those kisses that went so deep they stole Harry’s air and balance and sense of the world. When he opened his eyes again, the room was slowly revolving, and Draco had become the one who knelt, backing Harry into the wall with his elbows and his eyes, as insistent in their push as the elbows themselves.

            “What—what are you doing?” Harry’s tongue was powdery. He shook his head and tried to clear his throat as he repeated it.

            “Wanting you,” Draco said, and the smile cracked his face like lightning going home. “Having you.”

            His hands curled around Harry’s knees, smooth and confident, and then his hips. He lowered his head and his tongue flickered out, touching the damp front of Harry’s trousers. The next moment—although Harry was so dazed that he could easily have missed a flick from Draco’s wand—Harry’s clothes were gone and Draco’s mouth was yearning forwards, inch by inch across the space that parted them.

            Harry let his head fall back, his arms hang down on either side of his body. He did something he hadn’t done in years, and—and—

            Surrendered.

            Draco felt it, from the way his hands tightened. He was licking, slobbering, moving his mouth in wide and random circles Harry had never felt before. Harry’s mouth fell open in answer to it, the moan shaking his throat as he uttered it.

            There it was, Draco’s tongue circling, probing, touching him one moment near the head, the next near the bottom, the next on the shaft, scraping and lapping, making Harry arch his hips, and whimper, and try to retreat, but there was nowhere to go, nothing behind him but the wall, nothing inside his head but the warmth, no escape.

            Nowhere to retreat. Nowhere to hide.

            His hands flattened out and he cried, a small, gasping sound that made Draco snarl. His hands pressed down so hard that Harry felt the flesh on his hips dent beneath them, and he rolled his head back and looked down.

            Draco was watching him with eyes so brilliant they burned. Harry tried to fall backwards, and Draco’s eyes were there, more than his hands, holding him up.

            “Come for me,” Draco said, in words that Harry thought he must hear in his head more than with his ears, as busy as Draco’s mouth was. “Come to me, for me, with me, be with me—”

            Harry thrust forwards and let himself go, and it was an escape after all, a running through, a shining, the heat was out of him and in him and through him, and—

            And he was on the floor with Draco still on his knees in front of him, cradling Harry’s face beneath his hands, kissing him, touching his cheeks and his cheekbones with fascination that made Harry flush. He raised his head and captured Draco’s mouth in a kiss, because he wanted to, and because it was one way to make the touch stop.

            Then he reached for Draco’s cock. His thoughts chattered and fell around each other. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wanted to do something more, he wanted to make it as intense for Draco as it had been for him.

            Draco’s hand fell on his, and found it, and squeezed. “Please?” he whispered, staring at Harry as if he wanted to stare through Harry.

            Harry shivered. Yes, that was what he wanted, too. “Yes,” he said. “Please do it.” He fell backwards and opened his legs, smiling up at Draco.

            Draco stared at him, then smiled a little and held out a hand to help him up. “We can go into the bedroom,” he whispered. “You deserve soft sheets and those windows with the views I told you about.”

            “And you deserve to shut up and give me what I want,” Harry said, and with a flick of power that only partially came from his wand, scythed Draco’s legs from under him so he fell on the floor, sprawling only a few inches from Harry’s feet. “Which is for you to fuck me right here and now.”

            Draco stared at him for a few minutes. Then he was on top of Harry, and crawling so that their chests were pressed together, and his mouth was once again luring Harry into a daze. Harry resisted it this time, though, biting at Draco’s mouth and licking at his neck the way he had when they first started, and Draco laughed quietly and called a small bottle to him with a nonverbal Summoning Charm.

            He sat back with his eyes so bright that they seemed to be roasting Harry from the inside. “I want to know where you learned how to be so sexy,” he muttered, and started to coat his fingers with the shimmering oil.

            “Not the same school you went to, obviously.” Harry shook his head and reached for the lube. “Give me that.”

            Draco blinked, but surrendered the bottle. Harry made sure to cover both his hands generously, and then reached back and down and plunged his fingers into his arse. He hissed and winced a little when he did, but the pain would go away. Usually it went away immediately when he got a proper fucking.

            And Draco might need a little help, but Harry still intended to see that he gave him one.

            His fingers reached in deep, but not deep enough, and he cast a charm that would keep his legs suspended in the air and his arse raised before he continued. Yes, that was better. Though he still had to twist with his arms a little, and bent his head all the way to the side, he managed to reach.

            “You,” Draco whispered, and stopped.

            Harry glanced up, and discovered that the reason he had stopped was because his mouth was overflowing with saliva. Harry grinned smugly and reached in even further, adding a third finger this time with a squeaking sound. It forced a soft grunt from his lips, but that was what lips were for, after all. Or at least at a time like this.

            “I want you,” Draco said, and held out a hand as though he assumed Harry would cover it with lube.

            Harry spun the bottle and cast another charm, this one purely wandless, that made oil pour out of it and coat Draco’s erection. Draco sucked in a surprised breath and arched his hips. Harry canceled the charm that held his legs in the air, waited a moment to be sure that his tingling calves would support him, and then came over and forced Draco down and back, onto his heels and haunches. Draco stared at him, lips parted, mouth and eyes overflowing.

            “Yes, I think,” Harry said, and then sighed and worked himself backwards until he had Draco inside him, and then the glorious stretch stole whatever words he might have been about to say.

            It was tricky, half-bouncing and half-riding Draco’s lap, his legs falling in several silly directions until he locked them around Draco’s hips. Then he was sweating, and both of them didn’t get any leverage for a few seconds, rocking back and forth, and Harry laughed aloud and looked up into Draco’s face.

            “Not—everything you imagined?” he panted.

            Draco kissed him hard enough to drive his tongue back down his throat, and then gentled the kiss while wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders. He didn’t speak, couldn’t speak, but his arms rippled, and he told Harry what he wanted to do that way, moving them both back and forth. Together, they arranged themselves so they did have some leverage, and Draco began to fuck him as if they were on a rocking horse.

            Harry kept giggling; he couldn’t help it. He could feel the quivers traveling up Draco’s legs. He was incredibly strong, to do it this way, but that wouldn’t last long, and he’d probably fall down flat when they gave out.

            So Harry kissed him again and took him over backwards, until Draco was lying flat and Harry could get some real speed going. He hissed in approval as Draco’s cock finally made pleasure absolutely flash through him, and he knocked Draco’s hands away when he tried to reach up and help.

            “Lie back and think of me,” he whispered, and began once more to bounce. Shudders and shocks shot through him; Draco’s face changed, his jaw dangling, his tongue scraping up and down his lips as though he thought they might need moistening, cleaning.

            Harry kissed him silly again, and gave a particularly hard bounce that made Draco arch up urgently. Harry grinned, did it again. It made him burn in all sorts of ways when Draco was that deep inside him, and Draco’s eyes were falling shut, and this was having an effect on him. That was what Harry wanted, to make the master of arrogant letters and more arrogant convictions react.

            So he bounced, and bounced, and bounced, and his thighs ached and his arse burned and clenched. His own cock tried a few feeble times to come back to life, but that didn’t matter. Harry linked his arms behind his head, and rode, and enjoyed himself.

            Sometimes he felt the pressure of the thoughts that were waiting for them outside this enchanted moment. About Draco, and the spell, and what he would do, what he would think—

            Harry felt the minute pulses and twitches inside his arse that indicated Draco was about to come. Well, and also the way Draco had gone still beneath him and breathed stiffly through his arched chest was kind of a cue.

            Harry judged the moment to a nicety, and bent down and whispered in Draco’s ear, “Are you going to come for me?”

            Draco’s hips jutted up, and the answer was yes, yes, yes, both inside and outside, through the ragged gasps that he whispered into Harry’s mouth.

*

            Harry savored the time, let it pass, and woke in a sort of half-doze to find Draco trying to stir beneath him. He sat back and up, pleased with himself, that he had the weight and the strength to make it difficult for Draco to rise without moving him, pleased with the ache in his arse, pleased with everything.

            Draco reached for him and looped an arm around his neck, not trying to press him back down into a kiss, just holding him there and making him be. Harry met his eyes, smiling, and Draco whispered to him, “That was incredible. How did you—”

            His eyes were drowning, a mixture of black and grey and blue that Harry had never known he would find so fascinating, because he had never seen it before. He took Draco’s chin in his hand and kissed him in a soft, leisurely way, before he grinned and said, “It’s not like I could have done it without your help.”

            “You were incredible,” Draco whispered back, voice so drunk that Harry had the strong feeling that he hadn’t actually heard Harry.

            “So were you,” Harry said.

            “We both were,” Draco said, a sentiment that Harry could agree with, and Harry laughed and bit his chin.

            They wrestled on the floor for a few minutes, Draco pretending that he wanted to stand and Harry pretending that he wanted to keep him down. Then they sprawled there, one of Harry’s hands dangling off to the side, the rest of him cradled. Draco at last sighed and said, “Will you stay the night?”

            Harry thought about it. Then he said, “The wards on the Manor are as safe as the ones on my house, I take it?”

            “Safer, I think,” Draco said. “Just because they’re older and bigger and have more back-up defenses.” His hand smoothed up and down Harry’s back for a minute, then locked in the middle, between the shoulder blades. “Do you really think I would let anything happen to you? Really? You can think so poorly of me?”

            “Things might happen that you can’t help,” Harry said, thinking of the people who had hit his wards with enormous blasts of raw power until they simply broke, a trick that not even Hermione could think up a counter to. Those people worked in teams, and when one of them got too tired to continue, the other would take over.

            “You’re shivering,” Draco said, frowning at him as if it was his fault. “That settles it. You’re not going home to that cold house of yours.”

            Harry snarled at him. “Cold? Says the man who spent the majority of his time there under blankets and Warming Charms—”

            Draco’s hands just grew stronger. “Harry,” he whispered, not a plea, not a prayer, but closer to them than Harry had ever heard anything not them be. “Stay with me. Please.”

            And Harry gave in to both their desires, and kissed him again.

*

            SP777: Well, you’re usually good at spotting foreshadowing…

            polka dot: Ultimately, while Draco will coerce and push, he has to leave at least the illusion of free will. Otherwise, he won’t value Harry’s confession as much.

            LeaniaSTL: I do think that Harry was enjoying his peace until Draco came crashing in. He just enjoys whatever he has with Draco more.

            thrnbrooke: Now you know.

            unneeded: Hope you enjoyed it!

            Amberr: Does this get rid of some of the tension?

            kit: Well, you might have long to wait.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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

The Conservation of Fame