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Secrets & Lies	By : Digitallace Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14570 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the fandom, nor do I get paid to write or post this work.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Author's Note: Much love to all who have reviewed, my dear friend Shannon for beta and all my Pottermore lovelies! If I've missed anyone, let me know! (Finally got my letter and I'm in Ravenclaw! *Shocked*)

Chapter 13 Misleading

Harry dried his hair, rubbing the towel through his unruly locks until it was only slightly damp to the touch. Instead of reaching for his wand and a quick charm, he grabbed a rarely used razor from the sink cupboard and began raking it through his foamy stubble, wincing once or twice as he nicked himself. He applied a faint layer of moisturizer and continued to stare at his reflection until he was sure he was going mad.

He knew he was delaying on purpose. He wanted to see Draco. Needed to see him, but the guilt and fear he felt at the impending argument when he revealed his secret weighed heavily on his heart and seemed to make his movements slow and lethargic. Though, he knew his decision to groom himself the Muggle way, without spells or charms, helped him in his procrastination.

After he was finally dressed, sprayed with cologne and perfectly presentable, there was nothing else for Harry to do but suck up his Gryffindor courage and Apparate to Malfoy Manor.

He found the numerous windows dark, and wondered for a moment if Draco was still out with Blaise or if he was pretending to be away for Harry's sake alone. Maybe Draco was already having second thoughts, or third, or fourth thoughts and decided that Harry Potter was not the man for him after all.

But as tempting as it was to let the poorly lit path leading to an ominously shadowed door stop him, he pressed forward and knocked. He counted to ten without an answer. Then to twenty. Then thirty, and still no sign of Draco. He sighed as he realized that he'd likely wasted all of his nerve on a moment that would never happen.

Just as he was preparing to give up, Apparate home and send an Owl, the door opened and Draco appeared. Wearing only a towel, his hair still dripping tendrils of water down his chest and flanked by the dark wood of the door, Malfoy was a sight to behold. Harry felt his trousers grow uncomfortably tight and a faint flush stole across his cheeks. "Draco," he whispered, voice far more reverent than he would have liked.

A hint of pleasure glimmered in Malfoy's stormy eyes as he opened the door a bit wider, allowing Harry to pass. "It's good to see that some things are still consistent," he greeted as he escorted his guest through the parlor where they'd had their first drink together, and down a very long corridor. "Your timing is still impeccable," he teased as they headed up a flight of stairs and then took too many turns to count. By the time they reached a set of double doors at the end of one hallway, Harry had no idea how they'd gotten there or how he might find his way back when this all blew up in his face.

How embarrassing it would be to need an escort back to the front door when Malfoy tossed him out on his arse.

They stepped into a vast room of pale blues and antique white furniture, every finish and fabric more expensive than everything Harry owned put together. "Were you in the shower?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco gave him a patient look and Harry knew a sarcastic comment was likely just under the surface. He wasn't sure exactly what it meant that Draco didn't give the words voice. "I was," he answered instead.

"How could you have possibly known I was at the door if you were all the way up here…in the shower?" he asked, explaining his confusion.

"Wards," Draco answered simply, closing the door behind them. Harry swallowed thickly and tried to focus on the lovely damask bedspread rather than the half-naked Adonis staring at him, waiting. When it seemed clear that Draco would offer no other explanation, Harry cleared his throat and summoned the same determination that sent him to his death march into the forbidden Forest.

"Draco, I have something I need to tell you," he began, drawing himself up to his full height.

"I know," Draco replied, and dropped his towel. The sight made Harry's throat tighten with desire, his whole body humming with the need to touch all that glorious flesh. Before he could regain his composure and try to stop him, Draco closed the distance between them, his body perilously close. "I want you too, Harry," he whispered, eyelids heavy, a deep yearning in his hooded gaze.

"I do want you," Harry murmured, admitting it aloud for the first time, his traitorous hands darting forward to caress the smooth, pale skin before him. "But that wasn't what I needed to tell you," he admitted, painfully shoving the desire to kiss the blond to the bottom of his gut.

"It's not important. I know you're with the Ginger. We can discuss the details of how you're going to leave her for me later," he pointed out with a smirk. "Because even if you weren't intending to before, you will after tonight."

The only way Harry could think to wipe that knowing smirk from Malfoy's lips was to kiss him, long, hard and deep to match his aching need for more. Their bodies melded together, Draco responding to the kiss at once with just as much unhinged passion as Harry felt. He was so distracted by the fiery way Draco kissed him that he didn't even notice the blond was moving them until the backs of his knees hit a cushiony surface and he topped backward onto the overstuffed bed.

He swallowed. This is real. This is happening.

"I think our first time should be a bit more traditional, don't you?" Draco mused, brow quirked as his voice exuded so many promises yet to be fulfilled. "Later we can fuck on whatever surface you like." Harry's heart pounded in his chest and all he could do was nod, which seemed to amuse the hell out of Draco. "Are you having a fit, Potter? Should I Apparate you to St. Mungo's?"

Draco's snark pulled Harry out of his gaping state and he shook his head, rolling his eyes so hard he thought he might have permanently injured them. "I'm fine. Good, in fact. Very good."

"We'll see about that," Draco replied with a soft smile, his fingers working at the hem of Harry's shirt, tugging it gently over his head. He folded it neatly, much to Harry's slight dismay, and set it on a chair near the bed.

Too distracted to pay attention to detail before, Harry's gaze now went immediately to the milky white skin of Draco's chest, marred by a jagged pink scar beneath a peppering of blond chest hair. He reached out without thinking, running his finger over the glossy flesh, letting out a reproachful sigh. "That night," he shook his head, remembering in flashes how quickly everything dissolved into Malfoy lying in a puddle of his own blood. "I wasn't thinking."

Malfoy let loose an irritated huff, shoving Harry's fingers away. "I'm not some charity case, Potter. We all have scars. Thankfully mine isn't branded on my face," he bit out, eyes flashing dangerously.

"No. You wouldn't like that at all, I'm sure," Harry replied bitterly, resisting the urge to touch the lightning bolt scar on his own forehead.

Malfoy closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Let's not do this. We have plenty of time to bicker over whom hurt whom when we were children." His fingers cupped Harry's chin and he leaned down for a tentative kiss, which Harry sunk into.

Using Malfoy's hips for leverage, he tried to tug the blond onto the bed with him, but Draco shook his finger and stepped back. Lithe fingers deftly rid him of his belt first, before slowly peeling away trousers and pants, the only thing that stood between their naked flesh. He let out a tiny hiss as his cock sprang free and was greeted with the cool air of the room and Malfoy's heated attention. A blush stole over his cheeks at the way Draco stared, a hint of pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Before Harry could think of any clever taunt, Draco was on him, straddling his hips and grinding their mutual desires together with such delicious friction Harry couldn't help but cry out. He didn't know how long their bodies twisted on the bed, each trying to gain some upper hand, until Harry effectively pinned Draco to the mattress, a devious smile on his face as he descended on his neck, nipping and sucking as the blond writhed beneath him. He felt so powerful, so desirable, so at home here in Draco's bed, in Draco's arms.

His mouth moved lower, a trail of wet, red marks revealing his journey until he reached the apex of Draco's thighs. Suddenly all the air was knocked from his lungs as confidence fled swifter than Hippogriff wings.

Harry just stared at it.

The hardened pink flesh in his hand, the way a bead of pre-come glistened at the tip, the fine dusting of platinum hair at the base and the way the thick vein leading down to it pulsed beneath his thumb; it all gave Harry a looming sense of trepidation. Tentatively he stuck out his tongue and jabbed at the slit, ignoring the quirked brow and confused expression on Draco's face. Not finding the taste entirely unpleasant, he dove in, only to hear a hiss from the blond when his teeth scraped skin.

"Potter! For fucks sake…you have done this before, I trust?" he hissed, cocking his head awkwardly to try and catch Harry's avoiding gaze. He must have seen something in those expressive eyes that made him groan as his head fell dramatically to the pillow. "Salazar help me," he muttered. "Of course you haven't. You've probably never had to sully that savior's mouth of yours on another man's cock. You likely get everyone else to do the work, don't you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed in defiance as he shoved away. He'd never sucked a cock because he'd never been with a man before…but he certainly couldn't tell Malfoy that. That thought left him in the wake of a wave of guilt. He'd come here to tell Malfoy about the mission, about his earlier deceit only to be swept up in the magnificence that was Draco's body, Draco's lips...Draco's touch.

"It's always fascinating to learn how little you know about me, Malfoy," Harry grumbled, sitting back on his haunches and staring at the man splayed before him like some decadent gift from the gods.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and sat up, meeting Harry's glare. "Did I ever tell you that I think it's sexy when you get all riled up over nothing?"

"Nothing?" Harry huffed. "You just told me I was rubbish at sucking cock because I've obviously never done it before because I'm some pretentious arsehole who just lets my lovers do all the fucking work!" he ranted breathlessly, ignoring Draco's smirk.

"It sounds far harsher when you say it," Malfoy noted as he hooked his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him in close, their lips just a breath apart. "I didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities, Potter," he whispered, nibbling along Harry's bottom lip and sending shivers down Harry's spine. "But you are rubbish at sucking cock," he added with a smirk.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry growled and shoved the blond away.

"But, I never said I wouldn't be happy to teach you. I am, after all, a master cocksucker," he preened.

"Yeah, I'll bet you are," Harry retorted with a roll of his eyes, which widened quickly as Malfoy practically pounced upon him and pinned him to the foot of the bed.

"I'll have you eating your words and that snarky tone momentarily, Potter," he whispered hotly against Harry's cock before swallowing him the base in one groaning mouthful, toying with his flesh as it hardened impossibly in Draco's mouth.

"Oh my fuck," Harry moaned as those pink lips stretched around him and began bobbing, his lithe fingers massaging Harry's sac as he sucked him deep and hard. His finger's dug into the duvet as he watched the deliciously debauched scene unfold, the sight of the usually pristine Slytherin in such a wild and passionate pose almost as erotic as the feeling of his wicked tongue curling around his prick.

Harry had never enjoyed a blowjob so much in his entire life. He didn't even know it could be this fantastic. His body seemed to be melting and tensing at the same time, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure as Malfoy sucked him. He was on the brink after only a few minutes, his head lolled back and his toes curling, when Malfoy pulled off of him with a vulgar slurp and his trademark smirk, eying Harry up the line of his body.

"I'll finish after you've had a bit of practice," the blond purred, his smirk widening at Harry's indignant gasp.

"You aren't really just going to stop now?" he nearly whimpered, his prick pulsing violently in reply.

"Oh yes, I most certainly am. And you'd better impress me, Potter." The gleam in Malfoy's eyes was something akin to Fred and George when they thought up a particularly nasty new prank, but thinking about the ginger twins certainly wasn't going to help him here.

Tentatively, Harry shifted, sinking between Draco's milky thighs as he tried to psyche himself up. 'It's just a cock,' he reasoned silently. 'You have one. What do you like?'

Lowering his head more slowly this time, Harry focused on the tip, curling his tongue around and savoring the salty taste it left behind on his tongue. His hand gripped the base, pumping up to meet his lips as he sunk lower and lower on the hardened flesh. He moaned when it gave a jerk in his mouth.

"Yes," Draco purred, watching intently. "So much better."

Not liking that Draco was still coherent enough to form full sentences, Harry redoubled his efforts, sucking gently as his head bobbed in Malfoy's lap, moaning at the way his hips seemed to snap upward to meet his lips. He adjusted his pace based on the symphony of noises he pulled from Draco's throat, relishing in the fact that it was his mouth, his lips, his tongue that was unraveling the usually stoic blond.

Within moments Harry could feel the muscles of Draco's thighs tense and quiver and knew before the breathy word 'close' was even uttered from those perfect lips that he was about to make Draco Malfoy come. Something about that very notion made his own cock jerk in response. He was so insanely turned on that the mere brush of satin sheets against his prick brought his release, leaving him moaning wantonly around Draco's desire as hot seed coated his tongue.

Harry swallowed convulsively, afraid of gagging. The last thing he wanted after seeming so completely inexperienced was to choke and sputter now. When his throat seemed to settle at last, he pulled off Malfoy's cock, licking a stripe up the underside and nearly gasped at the awed look on the blond's face.

"You learn quickly, Potter," he said after a long starting contest. He reached down between Harry's thighs, his hand tightening around his softening shaft. "You seriously came without me even touching you?" he asked, the look of reverence now shaded with doubt.

"I was pretty turned on," Harry admitted, allowing the blush that colored his cheeks. He was too far gone at this point to care if Malfoy taunted him for it.

"Pity," the blond murmured, pulling Harry up to meet his lips in a decadent kiss. "I would have liked to taste more of you. But I suppose there will be plenty of time for that." He made the words sound disappointed, but the smile on his lips was purely carved from pleasure.

Harry snored, but Draco thought he looked too adorable clinging to his hand in sleep that he decided not to wake him up to halt the obnoxious noise. He gazed down at Harry's sleeping figure - warm body mostly exposed after he'd kicked away the sheets - and consciously noted the number of men who had graced his bed over the years. There had only been two others he'd invited here, and only one of them had been permitted to stay the night. Draco hoped whatever he had with Potter wouldn't end up like that relationship had.

Draco tucked a lock of Harry's wild hair behind his ear, noticing his lips twitch into a subtle smile as he shifted into the touch before settling back into the heavy breathing of sleep. He took his time memorizing the hard planes and soft angles of Harry's body, the scars, the smattering of dark curls and the faint tan lines. Feeling extra wicked, Draco pulled the sheets back to reveal the half-hard cock of his new lover. He could still hardly believe how hot it had been to feel Harry coming without a touch, from just the simple act of sucking his cock. It had been that, even more than the feeling of such wet heat surrounding Draco's prick, that had finally sent him over the edge.

He gave Harry's cock a lingering caress, watching it twitch in his hand and smirking at the apparent power he had over the appendage. He'd wager the Weasel-bitch had no such power. Still, she was sharing a home with him. Sharing a bed with him. That would have to end. Draco was never very good at sharing his things, and never before had he felt such a claim on something as he did on Harry in this moment.

He'd discuss it with Harry over tea the next morning and make the stubborn Gryffindor come over to his way of thinking. It was fairly obvious that Harry wasn't entirely happy with whatever arrangement he had with the Ginger-shrew, or else why would he seek Draco's bed? Perhaps Harry was like himself, wishing to keep his sexuality a secret, in which case he might permit his lover a ruse of some sort, but it certainly wouldn't be Ginevra Weasley. There was too much history there and though Draco wasn't a notoriously jealous lover, the idea of Harry being with anyone else made his heart clench viciously.

Staring down at him now, the peaceful look on his face as he slept, he hoped they could come to some kind of agreement. Now that he had him, Draco was loathe to give Harry up.

Author's Note: Sooo finally this authoress gives you some smut, hm? But I couldn't make it too easy.
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