Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Art of Shadow Boxing	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11214 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter 18
Reaching a Fever Pitch

The crowd is thunder.

It rains down from all around, like a tornado of sound, whipping and flinging about all in its wake. It drives the next person down the line to a new level of hyper-awareness, blood pumping in his ears, his feet stomping, his throat scratching with shouts, spittle flying in their wake - only to be repeated all over again, like an airborne plague.

I stand in the middle of it.

I know it's there, can feel it through my bare feet, a vibrating beat that brings a grin to my lips. I love this, love the smell of the cramped space, the muted ring that crests in my ears - it's been too long since I've been in a proper fight, too long since I stood in the ring with the beauty of tradition sanctifying it. There is nothing gritty and debouched about this match.

Thing is where I belong - with Harry leaning against the balcony rail, his gaze a tangible thing I can feel in the back of my head. It quickens my heart and sharpens my focus till I can see the minute lines of my opponents face from across the ring.
Troy is short and bulky, tan lined skin like stripes of thick bandages around his arms and thighs, his hair a fiery red that rivals the Weasley clan pulled back in a tight braid down this neck. He doesn't smile, his expression grim, respectful, his bows at the corners of the ring made with a wordless prayer on his thin lips. His Ram Muay is a dance of perfection, the coil of taunt muscles in his back pulled in and flexed, a quiet strength that waits like a cobra sated by a lullaby.

The crowd hisses and shouts as we face one other, hands clasped in respect, his gaze strong and solid. He's not nervous but neither am I.

"Don't let him in." Donnie pulls the ceremonial headband from my forehead, grasping my temples and pulling me in close for last minute advice, his arms obstructing the movement of his mouth. "Cut above the eye and use your feet."

I frown, staring into my trainers’ worried gaze. "Blind him?" I ask, picturing the dripping blood flooding his vision and colliding to match his hair in a matted swamp.

"Distract him Dray, you need to fast to pull him out in the first round." Donnie grabs the mouth piece from Caleb and shoves it between my lips before I can get a word out, already knowing that I'm not a fan of this plan. It's perfectly legal I just don't like it, it feels...cheap. "Watch his feet alright, he comes in fast and has an expert cut."

Ah, that's why. Cut his brow or fight through my own red tinted vision. I nod in understanding and he sends me a wobbly smile on his thickly lined face.

"Five minutes is all you got, you can do it, just don't dance around alright?" He presses his forehead to mine with a quick squeeze of his palms against my temple.

"No going all nutty this time." Caleb chimes in oh so helpfully with his boyish smile and clap on my back, ignoring my muffled scowl.

The bell tolls, striking the clock on the precious minutes I have to secure my victory, the clash of noise snapping to the back of my mind as I meld towards Troy, fists up and loose. There's no time for testing his strength, for reading the way he bends and shifts in his stance, or calculating the swing of his arms and legs. I come at him fast and hard, the first punch taking him off guard, square in his chest, spinning on my feet and spending a solid kick to his momentarily weakened core.

He recovers quickly though, shaking himself free of the dizziness at the sudden attack and dodging my next swing. Everything condenses down into a slow rung film with my heart in my ears as we attack and retreat, attack and retreat, painful blows landing and glancing off and quivering through our entire beings. The ticking clock like an activated bomb in those cheesy actions flicks Harry likes behind each and every step forward and surge backwards. It pings loudly, with a thick dong, dong, dong and I can hear it pierce the invisible time that commands me as I leap forward and manage to bring my elbow up and over his brow, slashing the skin like a sharpened knife with perfect precision.

The blood leaks crimson, smearing across his sun exposed face with a brushing hand, like acrylics - thick and desperate to clot as it runs free.

He retaliates in a flash, his arm surging out with rage and bursting strength and I just barely manage to miss it, flinging my body straight backwards with my feet planted apart - my back angling level with the ground as I press my palm into it, flipping my legs up at the same time and catching Troy across the ankles as I spin back up onto my feet. My knee flies at him as he falls, connecting with him sharply, my foot catching across the curve of his neck as he smacks into the ground. He hits with a solid sickening thud, his body lolling for a moment before he's staggering to his feet once more, my foot ready to meet him as I kick him back down.
And the film is suddenly caught on a skipping repeat, a roar of shouts, the vibrations moving through my leg each time he tries to rise unsuccessfully.

This is it, the end, I know it is - he's struggling on the ground, his mind no doubt swimming in near unconsciousness as he tries to force himself back up. The moment he lifts up, I send my fist into his face - propelling him into the hazy world of running blood loss and woozy dreams. Then the mediator is counting, the numbers a solid smack in my thoughts that are waiting and waiting to hear it, for the end to be pronounced, for my victory to be sealed.

In the first five minutes - the first round.

The moment my wrist's grabbed and thrust into the air, the crowd erupting in a deafening high of shouts, I feel it all wind back down - every little flick of noise suddenly rushing at me, the adrenaline still racing through my veins splitting a grin on my face.

I did it. I paid off my debt.

There's a smack against my side, Caleb's laugh in my ear as he and Donnie rush me, yelling above the roar. I feel solid and steady and so fucking good right now that I can't concentrate on what their saying, my eye's searching out vivid green.

"You did it! I can't believe you fucking did it!" Caleb shouts in a joyous whoop as I spit out the mouth guard.

I hear my name ring throughout the room as Troy staggers to his feet, bloodied and limping his way over to me. His sticks out a hand and I grasp it as he mutters his defeat with honor bound tones, my own reply coming readily to my lips like a scrip permanently printed in my brain even though I'm barely catching onto them myself at the moment.

But there's a touch of fingers over our hearts, heads tipping in a soft bow, all the right movements, all the right words. It's beautiful.

Still everything around me feels like a foreign flood, running in slow motion - the arms waving in the air, money dropping back and forth, Donnie's voice in my ear, Caleb's contagious grin in the corner of my eye, Madame Safiya blanketed in curling shadows just overhead. I blink and Troy's dropped my hand, the crowd has grappled forward, nearly splitting the sides of the rings ropes. Donnie's grasping the thick braided ribbon that singles me as the official winner from the mediator but I pay it no heed - my gaze catching sight of Harry pushing through the crowd, his grin so wide I can see the rows of his pearly white teeth.

I'm not sure if I give them any explanation before I'm slipping through the ropes, Harry skidding to a halt before me as he rocks on his heels - his hands twitching at his sides like he can't figure out how he's allowed to greet me right now.

"You won!" Harry yells, his voice barely audible amongst the shouts and screams around us, bets settling with ecstatic winners and furious losers. "That was brilliant, I don't think Ron's going to ever look at you the same way again."

"And you?" The bodies press around us, enthusiastic patrons smacking me on the back and sloshing their drinks in a sticky waterfall. I used to hate this part, used to leave as fast as I possibly could, unable to stand all the touching and screaming and shadow filled mirages. I would run back to the safety of my hotel room or flat or even the gym, anywhere the light penetrated to every corner of the room and silence was pronounced by a pin drop.

"Oh I'm already past the point of no return." He laughs and yelps as I snag the front of his shirt and start dragging him after me, eager to leave but for a completely different reason than before.

The door to the alley at the far end of the room is nearly impenetrable but with nudging shoulders and stern looks, we manage to make our way through the crowd, the old door giving way with little force - the press of bodies nearly shoving us out into the warm night without thought or consideration.

"Skiving your own party?" Harry chuckles, his voice unnaturally loud in the sudden dim as the door bangs shut - blocking out the raucous sight inside, the ear piercing noise level reduced to a muted thud.

"Not my party." I correct, pressing him into the rough side of the building as he all but giggles with elation.

"Really? Cause you're the one who’s all sweaty from kicking that bloke’s arse." He says, wrinkling his nose up at me but winding his arms over my shoulders in the same breath anyway. "And you’re bleeding...right here." He brushes his thumb over my jaw with a tender touch.

"Not nearly as bad as last time." I smile, his eyes glancing around the shady alley with recognition taking light in his gaze.

"Let's keep it that way, no more knife wounds." He settles back against the wall, angling himself against me despite the slick stickiness covering my flesh in a thin sheen.

Bracing one forearm against the wall next to his head and gripping his hip with the other, I move into him, my pulse lighting at the storm that rises like a flash flood in his irises. "No more, my debts paid in full." I wrap my fingers in the hem of his shirt, tugging on it with little jerks that sends his body tightly into mine.

"Free man huh? So now what?" He tilts his head, exposing the long curve of his neck in a tantalizing display of skin.

Leaning down, I lick a stripe up the length of his blatantly open flesh, ending at the shell of his ear and whispering hotly against the sensitive organ. "I recall something about you fantasizing about me marching you down an alley and fucking you until you can't walk."

"Here? Now?!" He gasps, melting into my chest and tightening his arms around my shoulders, a groan silenced on his lips with a sharp sinking of his teeth as I pull his earlobe into my mouth. "Oh god Draco." He shudders, any qualms he may have possessed about being taken in such a manner evaporating like mist in the burning desert sun.

"Tell me you want it." I grasp his chin and angle his head sharply up and over, my teeth scraping along his throat as it works up and down with his labored breathing.

"I want it." Harry rasps, his eyelids fighting a losing battle to remain open. "I want you now, just like this, fuck me hard."

There's something about this night - the high of the fight, the glory of the win, the freedom of paying off my debt - all of it culminating in being back in this alley, the same festering place I first saw him again, dripping my own blood and terrified that he was real. It's all reaching a fever pitch inside me and I want to never be unraveled from him again.

The touch of his lips is sweet against mine, the taste of mingled gin and lime on his tongue, his hands clamoring at my back as his head smacks back against the wall from the rocking press of my body and grip on his jaw. Our kiss is one of stacking claim, driving the peg down deep until it cannot be removed by any living thing, a band of ownership freely given and freely taken with the perfect blend of ourselves.

There's a sharp bang in my ear, the noise sounding from inside the club, bringing back some of my muddled senses. Pulling back just enough to drag in a breath, my arms sneaking around him and holding him secure to me, I stare heavy eyed down into his flushed face - his own gaze a slow blinking disconnected movement as he sways in my embrace.

"Why you stopping?" He mumbles, a gasp breaking his sentence short as I insert a knee between his legs, forcing him to straddle my thigh, my hand pressing against his arse and keeping him taunt and still as I shift my leg up and down against the bulge in his jeans. "Oh!" He presses his face into my neck and there's a long moment where all he can do is shutter and moan and rock back into me before he’s seeking my lips out again in a hungry crash.

"Damn Dray, can't you keep it in your pants for a night?"

"Go away." Harry growls - the possessive, heady tone sending little shivers down my spine - his fingers threading through my hair and pulling me into him as I try to step back on instinct at the interruption.

"Would if I could." Caleb grins, leaning against the open door, the noise and light spilling out of it, breaking the spell of our solitude. "But you're friends are getting a bit...annoying. The chick seems to think something dreadful is happening to you two out here."

"You need new friends." I grumble and Harry sighs, letting his hands slide down my neck and rest against the rapid beat beneath my chest.

"I'm starting to agree." He presses a light kiss to my lips before I pull back, the soaring elation from moments ago starting to fall like mist around me, cooling my sticky skin in the night air.

"Might want to hurry unless you don't mind more people seeing you with your pants undone Harry." Caleb snickers and we both pause in our step, glancing down quickly as his fingers fumble over his fly, zipping and buttoning them up quickly with a blush on his cheeks.

Funny, I don't remember doing that...

He brushes past Caleb with a mumble I can't make out, slipping back into the mayhem inside with a backwards glance my way that screams disappointment. I can't help but agree whole heartedly, wishing I had made him take us back to the flat before we could be interrupted, I really should have known that we would be, when are we not?

"The Madame left this for you." Caleb stops me at the door, holding out a neatly folded slip of paper of cream and yellow.
I eye it disdainfully before taking it from him, my fingers steady as I peel it open - the elegant lettering short and simple: 8 o'clock, Required.
"I got one too." He informs me as I crumble the summons for the party tomorrow in my fist. "Thought it a bit funny, seeing how she's never invited me to one before." He lets out a single high laugh that holds no humor as my eyes flash over to him.

Of course, invite the right people and secure the guest of honors arrival, I could win a fortune betting that Donnie and Harry got one too. Maybe even Granger and Weasley if she's been paying close attention to the details - which she always is. Well she can play all she likes but I'm done. This is the last move, I will go but on my own terms, and end this once and for all.

"Don't worry about it." I smile at him, clapping him once on the back like he's constantly doing to me when he feels like reassurance is in order. "I have a feeling it will all be settle before then."

"What will?" He frowns, glancing as the summons drops from my fist to the hard dirty concrete. "Stop smiling like that, it's creepy."

"Ah, thought you liked me smiling? Glad I'm happy and all that." I taunt, trying to liven the mood and detour him from asking probing questions.

"Changed my mind, it's unnerving." He retorts, taking a half step back from me, eyeing me up and down like he's trying to piece something together.

"Hey, come on, Ron and Hermione want to take us out." Harry pops his head back out the door, not failing to notice the furtive looks Caleb's sending me. "You're coming too." He tacks on with a vengeful smile.

"Me? Why?" Caleb grumbles, glancing through the door and presumably to where Granger and Weasley are standing, reservation on his lips and I get the feeling he's not keen on spending the evening with the feisty chick who hounded him until he tracked us down.

And Harry knows it, I can tell just by the curl of his lips.

"Why not?" Harry replies too sweetly before popping back inside, leaving a scowling Caleb behind.

"Do I have to?" He asks me. "Cause you know I think it might be more fun if it was just the four of you...five is a crowd and all..."

"You're coming." I tell him, stepping to move past him and into the club to find Harry. "Payback is a bitch and Harry never lets anything go."

"God you'd think I just tried to steal you from him or something instead of just opening a damn door and happening upon you two." He grumbles, hesitating with his hand on the doorknob like he's debating making a run for it. "And seriously that was insanely fast, how was I supposed to know you were about to get it on so quickly? I mean your all sweaty and bleeding...bleeding Dray! You're supposed to shower and bandage up first you know."

"He didn't seem to mind."

"I'm sure he didn't, you two are sickeningly obsessed with each other."

I fight a smirk as the door bangs shut behind us, merging back into the flow of the over occupied room - the beginning of a plan taking shape in my mind with how to break any ties to Safiya as quickly and painlessly as possible. But firsts things first, Caleb's right, I need a shower.

****

"I'm so bloody tired." Harry kicks his shoes off as I flip the lights on, shrugging out of my jacket and hanging it neatly in the wardrobe.

"And drunk." I add, smiling behind my shoulder as he flops down onto the bed with one shoe still half way on.

"Am not...tipsy maybe..." He grumbles, his arms flung high over his head in a boneless heap.

"Can you walk a straight line?"

"Can I ever?"

"Good point." I chuckle and bend to undue the laces of my boots, concentrating on the feel of the rough black lines on my fingers, using it to steady the press of thoughts vying for dominance inside me. "Recite the alphabet backwards then?"

"I'm tipsy Draco not a stone cold sober English Professor." He finally manages to fling his other shoe off, the black sole clanking against the nightstand.

"That's a no then?" Stowing away my boots and closing the wardrobe softly, I turn back towards him, watching as he plants his newly freed feet on the edge of the mattress, his knees like sharp arrows in the air.

"Yup. What time is it anyway?" He asks, rubbing a hand over his face and blinking up at the overhead light like it's firing little darts at him.

I glance at the clock over the kitchen archway and don't believe my eyes for a moment, were we really out at the club that late? "Nearly three." I inform him, bending to grab my gym bag from under the desk and plunking it down on the hard wood.

"In the morning?!" He sounds just as startled as I felt before groaning and closing his eyes tightly. "I hate Ron."

My fingers find the clean set of black hand wraps with ease, pulling one of the rolls out with care. "He was a bit...enthusiastic." I concede, remembering how the redhead had dragged us from the upscale restaurant to the loud pulsing bar with a strange sort of glee, ordering shots for the five of us and rambling on and on, in a sea of conversation in a way I had never experienced from him before.

He apparently really enjoyed the fight.

"A bit?" Harry snorts, eyeing me from under his shielding hand. "I think he's your biggest fan now, which is just...weird."

"Feeling jealous?" I tease, knowing that the very notion of me and Weasley being completely and utterly ridiculous.

He laughs, propping himself up on his elbows and gazing at me from between his knees. "I think we're safe there, Hermione's all that boy's ever seen."

Unraveling the cotton wrap with slow precision movement, the black length growing between my hands, I smile back at him. "I think she's scared Caleb for life."

"Mhmm, poor guy." He nods in agreement, his eye's following the unwinding movement of my fingers. "He really should have just kept him mouth shut after...what are you doing?"

"Preparing." I answer simply, knowing it will quip his interest.

He sits up a little straighter, the curiosity I knew would make an appearance taking light in his face. "...For...?"

I feel a ball of nerves tighten in my stomach as my decision from earlier comes screeching into sharp reality. But I won't back down, not this time, this is what I want. This is what has been pressing at me for years, what took flight right before my fight before being smothered, what danced to life as I pressed him into the alley wall and kissed him. This is what's been nagging at the back of my heart all evening as we ate and drank and celebrated with our friends - what burned to an inferno as he stole kisses in darkened corners and behind turned backs, what nearly erupted prematurely as we walked back to my flat - with his hand shoved in my jackets pocket and his mouth on my cheek and neck, despite Caleb striding right next to me.

"Take your clothes off." I instruct, ignoring his question and watching the darkness enter his irises, his breathing hitching in a deep intake in his chest.

He licks his lips and drops his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up fully and cocking his head at me. "Draco-"

"Now." I interrupt him, feeling the nervousness in the pit of my stomach coiling hotly and transforming into a muted desire that's stirring to life as he nearly gets trapped in his shirt in his sudden eagerness to comply. When it falls to the floor - his back bouncing against the mattress as he falls back, his hips jerking up as he tugs the denim down to his knees - I nearly lose my composer and attack him, eager to feel him against me.

But I have a plan and god help me I'm going to keep it.

He kicks the jeans off his ankles with a huff, blinking up at me as he sits on the very edge of the bed in just his boxers, looking suddenly shy and anxious. "Your turn?" He asks, with a hopeful smile that would have melted my heart if it wasn't already a puddle in his hands.

I shake my head and trace the dips in his stomach and curves of his hips and thighs with my eyes. "All of it."

His fingers hook under the waistband of his dark green underwear as my gaze travels back up to lock with his, the last bit of material covering him following the same fate as the rest of them, gracing my floor and leaving him completely exposed and waiting - silently, expectantly.

"Kneel in the middle of the bed." My voice is low and husky, my gaze darkened to the near black of desire like Harry always tells me they do when I'm past the point of reeling myself back in.

He obeys with hands that shake just slightly as he moves, sitting back on his heels and pressing his palms into his naked thighs. He looks utterly beautiful, skin glowing in the soft light, lips wet and pressed firmly together like he's biting the insides of them, his cock already long and jutting straight up. For a man whose life has been wrought with pain and sacrifice, filled with circumstances outside his control, nearly everything he's loved ripped away from him as the world demanded his all, he's surprisingly...willing.

It makes my heart threaten to explode if I think too closely on it, knowing that if I dwell on all he desires from me that I'll be unable to take a proper breath again.

"Do you know what Muay means?" I ask, pulling the wrap taunt between my out stretched hands and advancing on him.

He glances to the wrap, up to me, and back down to it again. "No." He answers quietly. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me though." He smiles a little shakily, curling his fingers on his thigh as I stop at the edge of the bed. Placing a knee on the mattress I lean forward and capture his mouth in a light but promising kiss, my stomach fluttering at his little moan. "Does it mean you're going to shag me now?" His breath rattles a little as I pull away, the playful words alight with his barely suppressed want.

I shake my head, walking on my knees until I'm behind him. "No." I breathe into his ear. "It means to bind together." Placing a kiss to his neck, I let the meaning wash over him, feeling it settle once more inside me as well.

I've always loved symbolism.
It's been an overwhelming aspect of my life since I was infant - tradition and symbolism a fierce part of pureblood mentality and customs. I used to cling to it, just as my father did and his father before him. Then I grew and though my views on life and the insanity that is pureblood prejudice became clear to me, I never forgot my love for the beauty of tradition. There are few things I hold as dear as symbolism, few things that are so pure and lovely in my belief.

I have to face Safiya tomorrow, before anyone is hurt, and I know I only have a fifty-fifty change of survival. I know I don't deserve Harry, I know that I will only end up hurting him. I know I can't be truly and forever bound to him as I desire. But I've decided to be selfish, I've decided to take this one last thing before I walk to what will probably turn out to my ultimate fall. I know that it's not a real binding, that all this is symbolism and only holds the meaning that I place behind it myself.

But that has to be enough.

He sucks in a breath and sinks his back into my chest. "What are you saying?" He asks softly, keeping his hands against his legs, his body still except for the shiver that passes through him as I touch my lips to his shoulder.

"Put your hands on the small of your back." I whisper and I just barely see his flash of teeth as he bites his bottom lip, his fingers curled into light fists as he follows my instruction. "You are mine Harry Potter." I let my voice drip with the heaviness of the meaning behind my words as I begin winding the cotton wrap around one of his wrists. "Are you not?" I question, letting him have a moment to refuse, to break away from me if he wills.

Because I know that he knows that there's more to this then a simple sex game.

"I am, I'm yours." Harry breaths heavily, his fingers twitching as I pull the cotton tight.

Hearing him say it is the most perfect music to my ears, settling a burning in my chest. "Yes you are." Grabbing the other wrist I start raveling the wrap around it as well, looping it back and forth over both his tender joints. "And I am yours."

"Yes." He nearly sobs, craning his neck back and seeking out my mouth with his, my lips catching his in a kiss that's pouring with our declarations. It's always been there, it's always been waiting but until this moment it's never been released. "I love you." His eyes are lit with moisture as I finish binding his hands together, his voice a whimper.

Wrapping my arms around him, my hands splayed flat against his chest, I tug him into me and kiss him once more - the power of his words soaring through me and threatening to break through every last barrier inside me. "Harry I...you have all of me. Never forget it."

"You make it sound like you're leaving..."

Running my hands down his taunt skin, I wrap my fingers around his hard member, watching him gulp and shutter in memorizing detail. "Not leaving." I tell him in twisted detail because I'm not running but the steps I'm going to take...I don't know where they'll lead. I brush my lips down his jaw and pepper them across his mouth as his head lays back against my shoulder.
"I want to be bound to you." I press him forward with my chest, nudging his legs apart until he's lying face down on bed on his knees, with me pressed between them. "I'm going to take your body and make you inexplicably apart of me." His legs tremble as I squeeze his erection, leaving wet kisses against the tender curve of the back of his neck. "Do you want that Harry?"

He nods with the side of the face pressed deeply into the bedding, his hands straining at his back as his hips twitch and move, making his cock slide through my closed fist. "Please."

Snagging the bottle of oil that hasn't left my bedside since that first afternoon, I shift just slightly and after some awkward maneuvering manage to uncap it and coat my fingers. With one hand still around his prick, I press a slicked digit against his opening, nearly groaning aloud as he presses back into it, enveloping it in his tight heat.

"You are my everything." I whisper into his ear as his breathing catches and his hips jerk, another finger joining the first inside his body. "Say it." I command, wanting to make sure my words hit fully in his addled mind, wanting him to never forget in case I don't make it back.

"I am your everything." He gasps and arches his spine, undulating beneath me as his knees buckle and shake precariously. "And you're mine." He adds, my eyes screwing shut as I feel a well of emotion waft through me all over again, like a storm at sea that won't be abated. He moans my name as my fingers move and hook and coax his open, my body angling sharply over him in order to drown in his intoxicating kiss again.

With a third and final digit, his shoulders drawing taunt, I pull back from him, staring into his brilliant emerald eyes. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Sh-should get a mirror then." He tries a smirk but it fails as he groans and thrusts back into me, his jaw slack and eyes fluttering. "Oh oh oh yess...Draco, I'm...stop, want you now."

Curling my fingers up, I brush against the spot inside him that sends him careening and smile as he squeezes his eyes shut and cries out a loud curse. "You're still so tight." I inform him, sitting back and staring down as he moves back and forth, alternately grinding on my hand and slipping his leaking cock through my fingers.

"Mhmm fuck...don't care." He tries to lift himself but only manages to glance at me from over his shoulder with blurry eyes and panting lips. "I like feeling...all of you."

Placing a kiss right above where his bound hands meet on his back, I pull free from him, a flammable ignition in my chest as he stays perfectly still when I slip from the bed completely. He watches me closely, with a slipping gaze as I remove my clothes. "Do you remember our first time Harry?" I ask quietly as my shirt hits the floor next to his earlier abandoned one.

"Vividly." He licks his lips as my hands undue my pants.

"Tell me about it."

If he finds my request odd, especially now, when he's kneeling naked face down and bound on the bed, he doesn't show it. Instead he smiles as I discard my pants and boxers and move to rejoin him. "It was raining." He starts as I position myself behind him once more. "We couldn't quite get the shield charm just right and ended up getting soaked in the warmed rain-n-n." He gasps and stutters to a stop as I press the tip of my slicked cock against his hole, not penetrating, just waiting...

"And?" I urge him on, rubbing myself against him and watching as his tight ring of muscles clench and quiver - remembering that night so clearly, the messy awkwardness that was somehow still perfect even with the sticks jabbing into his back and into my elbows and knees.

"We were making out and I asked you to shag me...it was amazing."

"Amazing?" My chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as I watch his back heave with each breath. "You sprained your ankle."

"And you nearly gave yourself a concussion." He counters with a fond smile. "But it was still brilliant."

"Why?"

"Because I loved you."

Closing my eyes, I lean over him, nearly breaching him but keeping back just enough. "Say it again."

"I loved you...I love you."

Settling myself in the strength of his love, I reach deep inside my blood and allow myself to touch and draw out the coil of burning magic that's been festering for years. It's an erupting mingle of raw magic and remembered spells that spring to mind as I grasp the bindings between his hands - the long ends of the black wraps reaching up and winding around my own wrists with a wave of power that should frighten me.

But it doesn't, not now, not with Harry in my arms.

"What are you doing?" He asks, craning his neck back to try and see what's happening as his fingers curl around mine, seeking explanations.

I hiss in a breath as the magic finishes its job, my hands bound securely with Harry's, in breathtaking symbolism - a crude form of handfasting. It holds no binding without the proper words but it's perfect as it is, exactly what I need and want.

My little moment of eternity with Harry.

Without warning and a sharp tug on our mutual binds, I send him smacking back into me as I thrust forward, my cock sliding into his all-consuming heat with a grunt from my lips and breaking cry from Harry's. I give him all but a second to adjust before I'm pulling him back onto me again. "Harry..." I gasp and groan and feel him quaking around me, my eyesight darkening to pinpoints as everything is chipped away.

"Yes, yes, yes!" He chants, anticipating my quick tugs and driving himself onto me, groaning loudly with each drag of my cock inside his passage, a whimper with each outward pull that threatens to leave him completely. "Harder Draco, fuckmefuckmefuckme...shit! Oh god grah!!"

Time eclipses in a bending sort of way, covered in our sweaty bodies and cursing breaths and I try to concentrate on the look on his face as he's driven into the pillow - on how he smiles and moans each time he impales himself harshly on me, on the sight of my cock slipping in and out of his clenching red hole. He curls his fingers around mine as much as he can and there's a plea on his gaping open lips, vocalizing his love in a repetitive promise.

I can feel the sweat collect on our bodies, glistening on his back and sticking my hair to my forehead, my forearms starting to burn pleasantly from keeping them taunt and using them to pull him back onto my cock over and over and over again.
"You're going to come for me love." I rasp through the solid smack, smack, smack that's ringing in my ears, yanking back on our binding until I'm resting on my heels - supporting Harry with my chest as he's driven onto my lap.

He moans and throws his head back onto my shoulder, his thighs bearing the brunt of his weight as he pushes himself up and down to meet my every thrust. "Don-don't wanna s-stop." He chokes out, bouncing as best he can in our mangled position.

But I don't want to change it, I want to feel as much of him as possible when he's cresting over the edge, want to watch it overtake his face. "Look at me." I insist and capture his mouth the minute his eyes pop open and angle over to mine, his gaze so dark and lustful I could get lost in it forever. "Come now." I tell him, a strange desperate desire to have him shaking in his completion right this moment, like the act will solidify our sealing that's only real in my heart.

"Dracooo fuck! I love you." He groans and then he's shaking just like I wanted, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide as saucers and locked on mine as he comes - my lips sealing over his and drowning out his cries and muffling mine as I join him in bliss.

The wrap falls free from our hands a moment later as we ride the wave back down, pressed back to front, panting and feathering light kisses. I don't recall muttering the spell to loosen them or even thinking it but we suddenly have the movement of our arms back and before he can even register this fact, I'm gathering him up in my arms - tugging his boneless body around till he's facing me as we fall down onto the bed.

"Are you always like that after a fight?" He asks with a sleepy grin, cuddling up against me and sighing contentedly.

"Wouldn't know." I mutter, lifting his hand and admiring the red rings marring our wrists.

"So...what was all that about?" He's staring at our wrists as well, eyeing me curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"Didn't like it?"

"Oh no I liked it. It was damn fantastic actually." He wraps one of his legs around mine, one hand lifting to brush through my hair. "Don't think I'll be able to sit properly tomorrow though." He mutters and I grin. "But you seemed...like there was more to it, you said...something about binding together...?"

"Did I?" I quip an eyebrow and he frowns, smacking me lightly on the arm.

"You know you did you prat. What...what did you mean by it?" He presses with a hopeful little lit to his voice that tugs at my heart.

"Mhmm and I recall you saying something about not wanting to stop." I smirk at him, rolling atop him and silencing any further remarks with a long, heady kiss.

The early hours of the morning dawn slowly, creeping upon us as we devour each other anew, his cries rising with the morning light - bringing with it the day I don't want to face. I hold it off as long as I can, loosing myself in him over and over again.

But it's coming, the time is here, just like Bella promised.

A/N: Liked it? Hope so ;) Also I’m not sure if anyone cares but I was just going over the next chapter and realized that it’s like 22 pages long, which is just stupid long for a single chapter, can’t figure out if that would just be annoying and I should cut it a bit or leave it be – if you have a preference let me know, my brain is apparently a bit too fried to decide on what to do ;)
2^nd to last flashback next chapter and a really long conversation between our boys…
Sebbie: Thank you so much for reviewing! And you got it! I just find Helena’s story too interesting not to touch on it, even if it’s just a roundabout way – not to mention giving the battle my own ending, cause where’s the fun in keeping it the same as the DH? Haha good question, Harry is reluctant to do anything that Draco doesn’t want him too (and the whole moral dilemma of attaching a muggle) and Draco’s still trying to savage it neatly for everyone involved, plus he’s still rather terrified of magic, even though hes been dabbling here and there now. But that’s not to say that Harry won’t if it comes down to it…I hope you continue reading and enjoying the story J
- 17
- 18
- 19
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 Art of Shadow Boxing