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A Series of Malfoy Events	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11220 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Seventeen—When Draco Spoke of the Longing in His Heart
            “Well. That was fun.” Harry grinned as they appeared before the gates of Malfoy Manor, and turned to hold his hand out to Draco. “Thanks for agreeing to come, Draco. I know my friends were probably a little baffled by you, but.” He shrugged. Ron and Hermione would eventually take it in good part. They’d been with him through lots of harder things.
            Though, I have to agree, probably not many things that are as confusing.
            It abruptly occurred to Harry that Draco hadn’t shaken his hand. And he hadn’t turned and gone through the gates in disgust, either. Harry glanced up with his eyebrows raised.
            Draco leaned on the gates and stared at him. Then he said, “Do you think I’m still mental?”
            “In a unique way,” Harry said soothingly.
            “It’s not mental to be disgusted by layers of dirt on stools and mugs.”
            “No, but it is to try and have people kill you to prove their loyalty.”
            Draco made a motion as though he could sweep Cassel and his other lovers and his whole stunt with making Harry his fiancé under the rug. Harry grinned again. He would probably get at least one more good sparring contest with Draco out of this. He hadn’t realized how much he’d grown to enjoy their arguments until tonight, when it had been fun.
            Instead of protesting Harry’s assessment or something, though, Draco slowly lifted his head. “And you’re going to leave no matter what I say?”
            “You mean, stop dating you?” Harry shook his head. “I thought you knew by now that I want to date you. I wouldn’t have stood up to Ron and Hermione like that if I wasn’t serious.”
            “No,” said Draco. “I mean—you’re going to leave me here like this and go away without so much as a kiss?”
            He lowered his voice on the last words in a way that did wonders for Harry’s groin. Harry smiled as he eased up on him. Draco stood there with wide, vulnerable eyes and waited. He seemed to have done as much as he could by asking for the kiss.
            But I don’t need him to do any more, Harry conceded, and wrapped his hand around the nape of Draco’s neck, and leaned in to kiss back.
            Draco’s hands rose in seconds, clamping on his neck with such strength that Harry was just glad Draco didn’t seem to go in for strangulation. He dragged Harry with him, and they both fell against the gates. Harry winced for a second, trying to lift his head. The only thing he could think about was how the metal of the gates must be digging into Draco’s back.
            But Draco’s face shone as if he was possessed, and he ruthlessly dragged Harry’s head down again. Harry found himself being thoroughly, desperately kissed.
            And yes, it was special.
            He caught Draco with one hand on his shoulder so both of them wouldn’t trip, and they stood there, kissing and kissing until Harry’s mouth felt a little numb. He pulled back, licking his lips and trying not to shake his head, because Draco would probably take that the wrong way. But he did wonder what should happen next.
            Draco seemed to have no doubt. He drew his wand and cast a wordless charm on himself. Harry only recognized it because he knew the wand motions. A Lightening Charm. Draco put the wand back in his pocket and leaped into Harry’s arms. Harry still grunted a little, but it was a lot easier to carry him than it would have been if he hadn’t cast the charm.
            “Let’s go,” Draco said, lounging against Harry’s chest and smiling at him. Harry supposed that his face must be a sight to see. “Lover.”
            And so Harry carried Draco across the threshold of the gates, and the threshold of the Manor. And once they were inside, it seemed only right that he should carry Draco across the threshold of his bedroom.
            Besides, so far Draco hadn’t shown any indication that he wanted to be let down. He leaned back in Harry’s arms and whistled a tuneless tune instead, his eyes locked on the ceiling of his own house as if he’d never seen it from this angle before. Maybe he hadn’t. Harry stifled the temptation to ask if there was a house-elf named Drunky who would put Draco to bed when he’d had too much Firewhisky.
            There probably isn’t. His name is probably Sleepy.
            Harry laid Draco on the marvelous bed that he must call silver. Then he stepped back. For long moments, he thought Draco was asleep. He lay there with his lips slightly parted and one hand curled near his ear, and his head turned a little to the side as if he would mouth at the hair falling across his face.
            Harry started to tiptoe out.
            “Ah. I knew you didn’t intend to stay faithful to me.”
            Harry snorted and turned around. “And I knew that you were putting on some sort of pose,” he retorted, coming up to the bed. “If you weren’t really asleep.”
            “But you doubted me.” Draco’s eyes were large and unblinking and fixed so hard on Harry that Harry was almost tempted to flinch from them. Honestly, though, this was nothing next to the craziness of finding out that Draco had apparently wanted to die. So he didn’t flinch, and Draco went on after a moment’s pause that probably wouldn’t have been noticeable to many people, except Harry. “I didn’t doubt you. I win.”
            “Win what?”
            When Draco got up on his knees and slinked towards Harry across the small space of bed that separated them, Harry thought he could guess. But he still stood there with his most doubting expression until Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, because doubting like that got him rewards, apparently.
            Then Draco started hauling him onto the bed. Harry thought about resisting for one second.
            It seemed to be a long second, but then he was on the bed and staring up at Draco, who hovered over him a bit predatorily.
            “I never thought I would have you here,” Draco breathed.
            Harry had been about to sit up and take off his clothes, but he paused. There was something new in Draco’s voice that he’d never heard before, even during all those times when they’d kissed before, the time when they’d almost come in each other’s hands, or when Draco was confessing about what kind of permission he had given Cassel to hex his broom. Harry would break the mood if he sat up now.
            He lay still, and tried to look as pretty as Draco had, and let it happen.
            “I sometimes thought that someone like you would be ideal for me,” Draco muttered, and Harry got a little impatient. He’d already said that, all that stuff about how Harry was strange and familiar at the same time. But then Draco touched his face and said something new. “Someone with your strength and your fire. You—made me consider things during school that I didn’t want to think about the time. But now I see that was important. I didn’t have Thinky around then to help me, and someone had to.”
            Harry firmly swallowed the bubble of laughter that was creeping up his throat, and blinked. Draco traced one finger around Harry’s eyes. It almost felt reverent.
            “And now you make me consider new things.” Draco shook his head a little, as if impatient with himself. “I still don’t really want to. But I have the impression that you won’t let me get away with doing that.”
            No, not really. Although Harry had yet to figure out what exactly it was he had done that made Draco think. Taking him to the Leaky Cauldron? Arguing that he wouldn’t make a pretty corpse? He thought he could probably spend the rest of his life finding out, especially with Draco’s maddening tendency to change his mind on a moment’s notice.
            The thought made a shiver of desire tremble through him, and he moved a little. Draco hesitated. “Do you want to hear the rest?”
            “It’s nice to know you want me,” Harry said. “But I think we can get on to the consequences of the wanting.”
            Draco’s eyes blazed, and a new, raw expression appeared on his face. “Is it true that you’ve never been with a man before?”
            “I would assume you would know that,” Harry said. “After all, you probably follow the papers, and how much fun would they have had with that angle? Even if it was just something someone came up with in a pub.”
            “I know I can’t trust the papers when it comes to you,” Draco whispered. “I can’t trust anything but you when it comes to you.”
            Harry smiled. “It’s nice to know that you want to listen to me,” he whispered back, and kissed Draco instead of saying all the many things he could have. Saying those things would have been fun, but this was more fun.
            And as he felt Draco’s hands slipping under his shirt and up towards his shoulders, Harry finally realized exactly what kind of fun it was going to be.
            Different from being with a woman. Harry told himself he knew that. He still gasped like a nervous teenager when Draco’s fingers found his nipples and pinched.
            Draco regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s done that to you before?”
            Harry felt as though someone had reached out and started painting his cheeks red. That was what it felt like, the blush so thick it couldn’t possibly be real. But he reminded himself Draco could have gone elsewhere if he wanted an experienced partner, and that Draco must know Harry would leave if Draco started making fun of him.
            “No,” he admitted, and then reached out and took his shirt off. Draco let him, his hands still skating lazy patterns on Harry’s chest.
            Then he pulled Harry down into a roll and kissed Harry from underneath him. Draco was lying on pillows that Pillowy had probably fluffed up, and Harry could feel his excitement coming back in waves.
            He wanted to see what Draco looked like naked when he wasn’t trying to seduce Harry and failing, so he yanked his shirt off. Draco hissed. “That burns when you take it off like that,” he complained.
            “Let me give you something else to think about,” Harry said, in a voice that didn’t sound like his—but a month ago, he wouldn’t have thought he would be like this—and leaned down to fasten his mouth around one of Draco’s nipples. Draco arched up in return, and Harry grinned. At least I’m not the only sensitive one.
            He liked the look of pleasure on Draco’s face. So he slid further down Draco’s body and took his trousers and pants off, and only had to stop sometimes when Draco pulled Harry’s head back up so he could kiss him. But then Harry bent down and breathed on Draco’s cock.
            Draco twitched and shouted. Harry grinned again. Draco’s cock was pink and smooth. Harry took it in a loose hold and smoothed his fingers up and down it.
            Draco grabbed his hair. Harry looked up at him. “Don’t tease me like that unless you’re going to suck it,” Draco panted.
            “Well, I might want to do that,” Harry said, and opened his mouth. He did pin Draco’s hips firmly on the bed with his hands, because he wouldn’t look very sexy if Draco suddenly thrust down his throat and Harry had to gag.
            I don’t know. He might be into that.
            Then Harry’s thoughts scattered, because he was rather preoccupied with the feeling of a cock going down his throat. It was still smooth, and difficult to open up his mouth enough. But then he started watching Draco’s face.
            Draco looked as if he was going to simply hurtle to a height and explode like a sunrise. His mouth was gaping like Harry’s, and he was surging against the hold Harry had on his hips, trying to thrust down his throat.
            He likes it! Satisfaction like syrup poured down on Harry’s head then, and he sucked and licked to let Draco experience some of it. Draco gasped and managed to get free of Harry’s hold to offer a good thrust. Harry, who was just starting to get used to the taste of intense salt and the feeling that something was blocking most of his air, gagged, coughed, and sat back.
            “Get down there—”
            Draco was snatching at Harry with wild hands. Harry dodged him and got his own trousers and pants part of the way off. Then Draco grabbed his neck and tried to drive his head downwards again.
            Harry resisted, mainly because he knew it would make Draco feel even better when he snaked a leg between Draco’s thighs to rub against his cock. Draco’s mouth fell open again, and so did his head, tumbling backwards until his hair was splayed across the pillow. He pulled in enough air to sound like it hurt, and Harry bent down and kissed him, drawing in that air, still trying to take off the rest of his clothes with one hand and make sure that he could get in as much kissing as he wanted with the other.
            Draco drove up at him hard enough to bump chins, and rolled them around again so that this time he was the one on top. Harry, skin burning, wriggled impatiently.
            “Yes,” said Draco, hair hanging down and smile devilish. Harry wondered for a fleeting second if it was the smile other people had seen, the one that made them fall in love.
            But he didn’t have much time to think, because Draco reached down and pressed against him.
            It’s so simple, Harry thought, as he tossed his head back and gasped because his swollen throat made him feel like he was drowning. How can something so simple—
            Draco rolled his hips, and reached down and grabbed Harry’s cock. Harry had a hand. He knew he had a hand, although at the moment it was hard to remember. He managed to move it. His fingers wrapped around Draco.
            The heat that gathered between them almost hurt Harry’s skin. The friction definitely did. But he didn’t want to stop. He rolled and groped Draco and felt as though his head hit something and bounced off, and Draco grabbed him back.
            The pleasure was unreal.
            Harry thought he had a pillow beneath his head. He thought he had Draco settled between his legs. But when he opened his eyes, Draco was lying off to the side and still palming him, and how had that happened?
            No time to be sure. No time to slow down, or Harry knew Draco wouldn’t find as much pleasure as he was. And that was unacceptable.
            He sped up the pace of his hand. Draco’s eyes closed and his hand stopped for a long second. Harry groaned. That hadn’t been something he’d counted on. He pressed closer, and Draco opened his eyes with a long gasp and went back to stroking him.
            At one time, Harry was sure, it would have been easy to look away. Now it wasn’t. Now he only glanced down when he took his hand away from Draco and spat on it to make things easier, because he was losing track at this point of the difference between his hand and the rest of his body. Everything burned.
            Draco spat in his own hand, and even knowing it would be good, Harry growled at him during the time he wasn’t touching him, because he wanted it back now. And then Draco’s hand came back, and it was even better than Harry had thought.
            Tugging like that, gripping, watching each other’s slowly blinking eyes, they raced to the end. Harry felt himself leap over the edge, and the pleasure came back and spun him around. A few seconds later, he felt himself shudder, as if the pleasure had hit his body after his mind, and Draco was gasping and uttering half-smothered curses against Harry’s shoulder.
            Things slowed down after that. Harry let himself slump against the bed, Draco draped over him. They weren’t going anywhere or doing anything. There was no deadline. They could lie here and breathe.
            “Not bad for your first time with a man, was it?”
            “No, it was pretty good,” Harry muttered, and then winced and turned his head to the side. Incredible as it seemed, it had sounded like someone was Apparating into the bedroom. Harry wearily hoped that it wasn’t another disappointed lover. He wasn’t up to doing the whole disarm them-bind them-Stun them routine right now.
            But when he got his head out from between Draco’s shoulders, he saw that it was only a house-elf, who stared at them and wrung its hands for a second.
            “What?” Harry asked groggily. Most of the time, Draco’s elves didn’t seem to need permission for things. They just went ahead and performed the function he’d named them for.
            “Please, masters,” said the elf, and leaned to the side as if he was trying to look at Harry and Draco and not look at them at the same time. “Semeny is wanting to do his job.”
            Harry pulled back, picked up a pillow—although his arms felt so heavy that it was like watching someone else do the job—and whacked Draco over the head with it.
            It couldn’t have been a hard blow, since Harry was still recovering, but Draco cried out and tried to wrap his arms around his head anyway. “What was that for?” he moaned, watching Harry with a hurt eye from beneath a fringe of hair.
            “You couldn’t have named him Cleany?”
            “Of course not.” Draco seemed to assume he had the scattered fragments of his dignity still intact. “Cleany handles the general cleaning.”
            Harry slumped back and put the pillow over his face. He didn’t watch the house-elf do the cleaning up. He didn’t listen to Draco crawling up to him and tugging on the pillow, telling him that Harry needed to talk to him.
            There were just certain things he wasn’t capable of dealing with right now.
*
Severus1snape: Thank you!
SP777: Well, he got even more than that!
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A Series of Malfoy Events