Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29171 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 20
- 21
- 22
Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay in updating. I’ve been very busy and I’ll try to be more diligent. Thanks to all who read and reviewed! I noticed there was some concern about Lucius being OOC and he certainly is. For the purposes of this story, he can’t be the same way he is in the books. If anyone has any other questions or concerns, please let me know! Enjoy!

Twenty-One

For a little while, Harry felt like he was living someone else’s life. A normal life. Maybe it was all in the way Draco kissed him—tenderly and calmly, tongue running slowly over his, lips parting together—before he stepped into the shower. Maybe it was how immediately comfortable they were with each other, naked and dressing for the day, or maybe it was the sense of utter ease and relaxation Harry felt around the blonde or the stunning way Draco smiled at him, hugged him for no reason, kissed his forehead.

But the fact was, Harry felt incredible and Draco did too. The blonde felt like he was living a dream, a new life, a happy fantasy—up until he realized something.

As Harry stepped from the shower and Draco was making his way in to take his, he noticed them—leftover scars on Harry’s arms. Long, lengthy marks that were fading but still reddish and raised. Harry seemed to have forgotten them—at least momentarily—while he toweled himself dry and put on a fresh set of clothes, but the scars were covered by a long sleeved shirt as quickly as Draco had seen them.

The marks disturbed Draco. As he lathered his body and cleaned himself under the warm shower water, he tried to forget what he saw but he couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness in the pit of his heart thinking that his love had been driven to self harm, had been so alone and desperate that he ripped open his own flesh, that he spilled his own precious blood. The blonde wanted to leap from the shower and hold Harry in his arms, kiss the scars away, beg him to tell him why and what happened…but he resolved to say nothing. Yet.

He dried and dressed himself in some of Harry’s smaller clothes (they were similar sizes) and the two boys smiled at each other sheepishly. They left Snape’s quarters hand in hand but did not see anyone until they returned to the Hospital Wing.

Promfrey was bustling over the still unconscious bodies of Draco’s attackers. The curtains were pulled back, revealing the seemingly lifeless faces of Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle and seven other Slytherins. Draco stiffened and Madame Promfrey turned to the doorway.

“There you are,” she said, removing herself from Pansy immediately. She flicked her wand over the curtains and they shieleded the unconcious students from Draco’s sight.

Draco’s hand tightened in Harry’s; Harry could feel Draco’s nervousness, irritation, a twinge of fear at the sight of those who harmed him. Harry squeezed back against Draco’s palm, willing his blonde love to feel okay, to feel protected. Promfrey noticed their display of affection but made no comment on it. Instead she swooped over to Draco and peered down at him from the end of her curved nose, ignoring Harry entirely.

“Please inform me next time you leave the wing,” she said in a stiff voice. “I thought something happened.”

Draco pursed his lips together.

“Sorry,” he said and though it was an apology he said it in an equally harsh tone. Harry felt suddenly uneasy as Draco’s demeanor seemed to return to the sneering, entitled boy he thought he once knew. He haughtily finished, “I didn’t feel too safe here alone.”

Promfrey blinked her old eyes and sighed. She seemed to realize she struck a nerve; she glanced quickly over at the curtains shielding Draco’s attackers and then back to the blonde.

“I understand,” was all she said; she moved away from the two boys and summoned a dark bottle and a glass into her hands. She poured amber liquid into the glass and handed it to Draco. He took it in silence.

“Drink this,” she murmured. “It’s a healing potion.” There was a pause as Draco gulped the bitter liquid down, making a sour face. “I would normally suggest you stay in the Hospital Wing while you recover but if you don’t feel well here… I understand if you would prefer to be elsewhere.”

She gave Harry a quick, knowing look and smiled at him softly.

“Mr. Malfoy is very lucky that he has you around, Mr. Potter,” she said kindly.

Harry blushed, unsure what to say but Draco spoke for him, his voice strong and clear.

“I am,” he said, staring deep into Harry’s eyes. “I am.”

*

They went back to the quarters together, fingers interlaced as they walked in silence. They left Promfrey quickly, left her declarations that Draco needed more time to recover, a week at her estimation, that he should return to the Hospital Wing every morning to take necessary potions. They left her quietly. Each held a heavy weight in his chest for different reasons.

Draco’s thoughts, now removed from his own recovery, had wandered back to Harry’s scars, so clear in his mind’s eye. When they were free of Promfrey and returning to Snape’s quarters, there was nothing to distract him. He wanted nothing more than to stop Harry and talk to him about them. Admit that he saw them, kiss and hug the answer out of Harry. He felt a little sick at the thought of Harry self-harming, his mind consumed with the need to know why Harry could ever hurt himself—

And Harry, he felt a different sort of weight.

It was a similar weight of worry, of a little apprehension. Draco’s eyes in the Hospital Wing, the way he looked at him, the love that was brimming beneath those almost gray orbs, was enough to overwhelm Harry to the core. Sudden questions plagued him, tore at some unconscious fear in him—

Could I love Draco the way he obviously loves me? Should we be together? Do I deserve this?

Harry sighed deeply. Draco immediately stopped walking as if sensing something were off. They were in the empty corridors, halfway between the wing and the quarters. In the far, far distance, there was a deep, rumbling sound as students moved about the castle, presumably going to lunch in the Great Hall.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asked at once.

Harry didn’t say anything immediately. Draco squeezed his hand and turned his body so they were face to face; he tucked their bodies into a nook in the hall, so if anyone else were to pass by, they would not be seen. His eyes examined Harry’s furrowed brow.

“Harry?”

Harry sighed again. He didn’t want to say his fears out loud—they were, after all, newly together. Why should he worry about these things now?

Because you don’t deserve this, a terrible voice said in the back of Harry’s mind.

The hand around Harry’s shook his a little bit. Harry heard his name repeated.

“I—I don’t know,” Harry lied.

He cursed himself for not being able to tell the truth. What if it scared Draco? And Draco knew there was a problem, but he was unsure of the source.

“Did I say something? Do something?” the blonde whispered, clearly stricken.

Harry stared into his eyes, big, grey-blue eyes that swam with concern and Harry felt his breath taken away. Draco was more selfless than he imagined possible—even after nearly being beaten to death, the blonde’s focus wasn’t on himself, on his recovery, but on Harry, someone who he barely knew, someone who he had courageously declared his love for, his devotion for. Harry suddenly felt tremendous sadness.

I’m weak, he thought bitterly. His mind flashed inexplicably to his failed Occulmency lessons, his feeling of loneliness, of Elisha’s powers and his inability to catch up with her, of losing Sirius, the pain of that summer. The incredible events of last night, his innate confidence and that morning seemed so far removed from him, so far away.

Draco leaned forward and examined Harry closely, his eyes roaming over every part of his lover’s face. Harry was staring at him, his brain not working properly. He wanted so badly to form a coherent sentence, to swipe away these sudden worries and fears but he couldn’t. He felt his anguish multiply when he tried to push it away.

“It’s not you,” Harry finally muttered. He was ashamed as tears began to well in his eyes.

Draco scooped Harry into an embrace and Harry sighed. How did this come so naturally to Draco? This affection, this love? Had it been repressed all these years that they thought they hated each other? Had it been dying to come to the surface and now that it was finally free, would it overwhelm them both?

“It’s okay,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear. “We don’t have to talk about this now—”

“Are you sure you want me? That you want…this?” Harry blurted.

Draco pulled back from the raven-haired boy and looked at him in shock.

“What?”

“I just…it’s—” Harry caught his breath and gulped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say or how so he settled on, “I…I have a lot of…issues.”

Draco stared.

“Don’t we all?” he responded.

Harry looked away but Draco’s heart rate spiked; he wondered wildly if Harry would tell him about the scars, the cutting, if he trusted Draco as much as the blonde wanted to be trusted, needed to be because Draco too was riddled in insecurity—that Harry wasn’t gay, perhaps just confused, that this would be a fling, that Harry wouldn’t fully trust him given all of their years of conflict.

“Never mind,” Harry said suddenly, clearing his throat. “I was being stupid. Let’s just go back—”

But Draco pushed away his worries. He took Harry’s face in his hands, cupped his cheeks and kissed him.

This kiss was different—for the first time, Harry felt that Draco was trying to communicate something through their lips pressing together, through the way he parted his mouth and explored Harry’s with his supple tongue—Draco wanted Harry to know something, to feel it, deep within the depths of his body and being…

Understanding. Patience.

Harry gasped into Draco’s mouth at the realization but Draco held him in place, not letting them part. They pulled each other closer, their bodies desperately together. Harry’s hands now in Draco’s hair, their bodies rubbing against one another’s, legs nearly intertwined. Harry’s eyes were shut tight, his entire body thrumming with Draco’s feelings, his passion, his love. With every slick, slow movement of his tongue over Harry’s, with every tiny moan, every time Draco’s hand ran tenderly up and down Harry’s back, every time his fingers lingered near Harry’s heart, Harry knew he was safe with him. That it was okay to be afraid of what lay ahead, that it was okay to be vulnerable.

Harry didn’t realize it but he was crying. Tears were pouring from his closed eyes and wetting his face. Draco planted a last chaste kiss on Harry’s gasping lips before moving them to Harry’s cheeks, kissing the tears away. Harry was trembling from head to foot.

“Shhh,” Draco murmured, clamping his arms around Harry’s body as Harry slumped into him. “Shhhh.”

He squeezed Draco tightly, as if hoping that everything Draco felt would transfer into him, that the blonde’s calmness would be his somehow, that these sudden, terrible thoughts would dispel from his brain forever. Draco was staring at Harry, worried as his hands traveled soothingly around his lover’s body, over his back and chest, up his neck, ruffling his hair.

“Everything will be okay,” Draco said again.

Harry nodded against Draco’s neck.

“Let’s go back. Let’s lay down. Let’s rest,” Draco whispered.

Harry murmured his assent. He felt the blonde’s strong grip on his shoulders and sighed as Draco wheeled him back to Snape’s quarters. As they entered, Harry was wiping the remanents of tears off his face, wondering if he had any right to be crying at all. Shouldn’t Draco be the one hysterical considering he was attacked so recently, nearly killed?

But the thought flew from his mind when Draco came to an abrupt halt. Harry’s chin knocked into Draco’s shoulder. Both boys stared ahead.

Lucius Malfoy and Snape were seated at his dining room table, both their eyes locked onto Harry and Draco. Both men wore all black and solemn expressions, their eyes blazing at the sight of the two boys.

Snape jumped up from his seat after a glance at Harry’s reddened face.

“What’s happened?” he barked, his voice strained.

Harry took a deep breath and then said, “Allergies.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t lie—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry muttered with finality, trying to keep his voice from rising to a shout. Now was not the time to discuss anything private, especially since Lucius Malfoy gave Harry a burning, calculating glare.

“Sit down,” the blonde man commanded suddenly, though Harry wasn’t sure to whom he spoke. His voice contained within it the usual coldness and sneer Harry had grown accustomed to.

Draco flinched next to him, as though he had been physically reprimanded. He instantly went to a free chair and though he seemed nervous, he sat down with grace. Snape sat down in his seat and eyed Harry warily, but the boy remained standing.

“You too,” Lucius grumbled to Harry.

Harry opened his mouth to give a retort but stopped when Lucius rubbed his eyes; the man seemed beyond exhaustion, his skin wan and colorless, his eyes tired. Had he always had that many lines in his face? Were there always such dark, ominous circles underneath his blue orbs? The boy sighed and gave up trying to argue. What was the point? He walked over to his lover, pulling up a chair directly next to him.

The boys faced the men and no one spoke for a few minutes.

“We want to talk about whatever is happening between you two,” Snape said, his voice very quiet.

Neither Harry nor Draco said a word but Harry chanced a glance at the blonde. He was seated with his back rigid, plastered against the edge of his chair and though his body was stiff, his eyes were glinting in annoyance, perhaps defiance. Harry felt nervousness invade him again at Snape’s tone—the man wasn’t angry, that was certain, but there were traces of concern, of wonder, perhaps confusion. Harry almost felt as though they were both in trouble, even though he knew this wasn’t true. If Harry learned one thing about Snape those past few months it was that he wasn’t a hypocrite—he would not reprimand Harry for being with Draco, especially since the man admitted his own feelings for men. But Harry didn’t know what Snape would say next, and that made him more worried than if he were being yelled at.

“Well?” Draco whispered, sitting forward now and staring at his father with the same defiant glint. “Are you going to tell me not to—”

“No,” Lucius Malfoy said, cutting off his son. Draco’s mouth snapped shut. Lucius closed his eyes again and pulled his long, straight blonde hair away from his face. He sighed. “Neither Severus nor I are here to tell you what to do.”

“We’re here to give you advice,” Snape finished.

“Advice?” Draco said in a hollow tone; his voice carried within it mirth and irritation.

“Yes,” Snape continued, now clasping his hands together on the table. He was glancing back and forth between Draco and Harry. “You realize, you two must be discreet.”

“You’re not going to yell at me then?” Draco implored, crossing his arms. He seemed skeptical. He was looking at his father only, a dry expression on his face.

Lucius didn’t say anything for a while.

“I admit, I’m surprised by…your choice of partner,” he said slowly, casting a furative glance toward Harry, who felt himself get redder in the face. “But I know this will make you happy—”

“He does make me happy,” Draco said, his voice gentle.

“I know, Draco,” Lucius said.

Snape sighed and looked at Harry.

“We want you two to be safe,” the dark haired man said.

Harry was gaping at the two men, unsure of what to say. Lucius’ behavior surprised him the most. What happened to the scowling, cruel man he was used to? To the Pureblood maniac who wanted nothing more than Harry’s death? Harry’s blood went cold suddenly remembering the debacle at the Department of Mysteries not so long ago… Lucius was there, Lucius was hidden beneath that Death Eater’s mask, taunting Harry, leading Sirius to his end… Snape seemed to have realized something was wrong with Harry. The boy didn’t realize it but he had gone from red to white in a matter of seconds. He was turning paler at an alarming rate. Snape wanted to say something, perhaps postpone this conversation but Harry was too quick for him.

“Why should I trust anything you say?” Harry whispered to Draco’s father. He was glaring at the man. “Why, after what happened a few months ago?”

The silence in the room was absolute, so thick and suffocating Harry was surprised they all hadn’t choked to death. Lucius seemed taken aback at the question and for once, a surprised expression came over his face, burning right into his eyes. He gazed at Harry as though he had never quite seen anything like him before.

“Harry—” Snape started but Lucius cut him off.

“He brings up a valid point,” the blonde man drawled. “Why do you think you should trust me, Potter?”

Harry couldn’t help the harsh laugh that left his throat, cutting through his voice box so his tone was cracked, demented. He felt Draco stiffen next to him.

“I shouldn’t—”

“But you trust my son?”

“Father!” Draco yelled, standing up, trembling with anger.

“Be quiet, Draco,” Lucius snarled, glaring at his child.

“Your son isn’t a Death Eater,” Harry spat back, suddenly overcome with rage. He sat up so quickly he almost overturned the table. Draco was glancing back and forth between his lover and his father with fear. “But you are—”

“Yes, I am,” Lucius whispered, his eyes alight with frustation. “But the circumstances have changed. You’ve saved my son’s life. I know how to honor a life debt, Potter.”

“So you expect me to forget everything that’s happened?” Harry yelled, his anger boiling over in a way that it hadn’t since the summer. He felt overcome with ferocity, ignoring the shocked expression Draco’s face, the way Snape held his head in his hands as if he were irritated beyond belief.

“No,” Lucius Malfoy said softly. “I do not expect you to forget. I do not expect you to forgive. But I expect a conversation to occur between us, not a shouting match. You have every right to distrust me. I don’t hold this against you. I’m here right now to ensure my son’s continued safety, to ensure his happiness, because whatever you may think of me, Potter, I am not a monster. I care for my family.”

Harry gave another terrible laugh and Draco finally turned to him, imploring him to calm down. “Please,” his lover said softly, “please let’s just listen to what he has to say.”

The shining look in Draco’s eyes calmed Harry instantly. He felt ashamed at his outburst. The two boys sat again, slowly. Harry sighed as he tried to master his breathing.

“You don’t seem to realize, Potter,” Lucius drawled, “that Severus isn’t the only Death Eater playing a double role.”

Harry snorted.

“Do you really expect me to believe you aren’t loyal—”

“Like I said,” Lucius continued in a dangerously soft voice that shut Harry up instantly, “the circumstances have changed. We are not in the same position that we were in a few weeks ago and that brings me back to the original point of this conversation—you two, all of us, must be extremely careful from now on.”

Harry pursed his lips together, biting back the retort that wanted so badly to leave his mouth but he couldn’t help himself.

“So are you and Snape together?” Harry blurted, staring at the two.

“Yes,” both men said at the same time.

“And what about your wife?” Harry whispered, his voice shaking. “You just said you loved your family—”

“I do love my family. My marriage is in place to protect my status as a Pureblood, her status, my son’s status. Narcissa and I married under specific conditions; she has always known I was a gay man… But what you don’t seem to understand is that being a homosexual wizard is not tolerated by our community. You will be ostracized, hated, perhaps attacked again and the best way to stop this is by being secretive.”

“You saw what happened to Draco,” Snape said softly. “No one here wants that again.”

“Things are far more dangerous because my son is involved with you now, Potter. You’re the number one enemy in our circles. No one can know you two are together. The moment this comes out, you risk the safety of all of us, not just yourselves, but myself, Severus, my family, countless others, your friends—”

“I get it,” Harry said quietly, closing his eyes. “I—I understand.”

“This is a huge risk you’re taking, being together,” Lucius continued as though Harry had no spoken. “Moreso than usual given your particular celebrity status.”

“It’s worth it,” Draco said, his eyes shining. “I don’t care how many times someone hurts me, I won’t—”

“No,” Harry whispered harshly, grabbing Draco’s shaking hand in his own without a second thought. “No one will lay a hand on you again. I won’t let it happen.”

Draco blinked at Harry, his face overcome with emotion. Lucius and Snape smiled slightly to each other, pleased with the affectionate nature between the two boys.

“I’m glad to see you two are serious about this,” Snape said quietly. “You need to be.”

“I know you aren’t quite willing to right now,” Lucius continued to Harry, “but at some point, we need to put the past behind us and unite under a common cause. As a gay man, I understand your predicament, so does Severus. And as the protector of my son, I have an invested interest in ensuring he is well, happy and safe.”

“We have the same goals then,” Harry commented, clasping Draco’s hand harder.

“We do indeed,” Snape said, nodding.

“So no one can know about us?” Draco whispered, looking down at the floor.

“No one,” Lucius said, his voice harsh.

“Except,” Snape cut in, glancing sideways at his partner, “those whom you trust most.”

Lucius snorted as if he thought Snape’s idea were foolish.

“Your friends are entitled to know,” Snape continued, rolling his eyes at Lucius’ reaction. “Harry, that means Miss Granger and Mister Weasley only, for the both of you that means Elisha as well.”

“Well, Elisha has always known,” Draco admitted.

“And she’s kept her silence, thus proving her trustworthiness,” Lucius commented.

Draco nodded.

“Be careful with the company you keep,” Snape continued. “Keep the displays of affection to a minimum.” At this Harry frowned and Snape looked apologetic. “Trust me, Harry,” he said softly, “if we could have our way, none of us would have to hide but Lucius is correct. Given the specific circumstances of this situation, given the fact that you are you it would be unwise for any Death Eaters’ children to know you two are together.”

“Indeed,” Lucius agreed.

Harry sighed.

“I understand,” he said quietly. His hand was still entwined with Draco’s and the two boys glanced at each other quickly.

Draco turned to face Snape now.

“When do I have to return to classes?” he asked the professor.

“I will ask Dumbledore for you. I’m certain he will want to speak to the both of you as well,” Snape said. “As for now, you’re both permitted from not attending classes. Draco, you’re allowed to stay in my quarters for as long as you need to.”

“Thank you,” Draco murmured.

“Well, I suppose you two can leave,” Snape commented, after a few minutes’ silence.

“But I want to have dinner with you Draco,” Lucius said, his voice soft. “Tonight. You and I. We’ll go to Hogsmeade.”

“Yes, father,” Draco whispered. He blinked and then asked, “Does mum know?”

Lucius nodded. “She’ll be with us tonight.”

Draco gave a soft smile and stood from the table, his hand still in Harry’s. Harry stood with him and the two men before they dismissed them. The boys left in silence to Harry’s room, closing the door with a snap. They immediately turned to each other when they entered the quietness of Harry’s space but neither said a word for quite some time.

“I’m sorry,” Draco finally said, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between you and my family.”

Harry sighed, unsure of how to respond.

“It’ll take time,” Harry said eventually, “but…I want to forgive your father. I do want to put the past behind us, especially since I’m with you now…” Harry paused and he felt his heart hammering against his chest. “I—I want to trust you…”

“You do?” Draco whispered, his eyes shining. He stepped forward and closed the space between them.

“Yes,” Harry said softly. He felt the inexpicable tears rising in his again and he gave a shaky breath trying to calm himself.

Draco noticed.

“Harry,” he said, his voice breaking a little bit at the sight of his lover so distraught. He put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and Harry shut his eyes, bringing forth a fresh wave of hot tears.

He didn’t understand why he was crying; he didn’t understand why this feeling wouldn’t leave him, this heaviness. He felt his body trembling, his lungs, his heart, his hands. He gasped when Draco’s lips were on his skin again, wiping the tears from his cheeks, moving slowly over his closed eyelids, down to the edge of his lips, not quite kissing them fully. Harry kept his eyes shut as he groped for Draco’s body, desperate to feel that touch, his heartbeat, desperate to know that Draco’s flesh and blood were before him, wanted him, needed him.

Draco let himself be pulled into Harry’s chest. He let Harry’s hands fumble over him, finding his heartbeat. The blonde leaned in and kissed Harry again, pressing him against the closed door, and their slow kiss from before continued, the sensual dance between their tongues elicting soft, shaking moans from both boys. Harry gasped as Draco’s hands were exploring underneath the fabric of his shirt, his fingers running over Harry’s ribs and chest, brushing over his nipples.

“Please,” Harry whispered into Draco’s mouth. He didn’t know what he wanted or needed but he begged. “Please, please—”

The kiss stayed the same, slow, but Harry could feel Draco pouring his feelings back into it, cradling Harry’s body to his, telling Harry with his arms and fingers and tongue that he would be loved. And Harry felt it again—Understanding. Patience.

He groaned against Draco; if it weren’t for the blonde holding him upright, he would have collapsed on the ground in a heap from the sheer magnitude of those emotions. Draco pinned him against the door, his movements becoming a little more frantic, his strong thigh rubbing between Harry’s legs, coaxing Harry’s hardness forward. Harry was gripping Draco with ferocity, moaning incoherently, his eyes now open and pleading.

Draco understood. He led him to the bed. He pulled Harry’s shirt off with tender care, laced Harry’s waiting skin with open mouthed kisses, taking special time over Harry’s nipples and rolling each nub between his sensual lips. Harry could hardly breath, couldn’t think. All he knew is that this was different—it wasn’t desperate like that morning, it was a communication between the two of them. With a jolt, Harry realized he was being made love to.

Draco continued to lick and suck and kiss down Harry’s navel, unzipping his pants and pulling forth Harry’s weeping erection. He moaned at the sight and Harry sat up on his elbows, watching Draco in awe as the blonde made love to his cock, kissing it lovingly, fondly, sucking the tip between his lips. He licked the precum from the top, savoring the taste and his eyes made contact with Harry’s wide emerald ones.

“Please,” Harry whispered again, grabbing Draco by his shoulders and pulling him up so their chests were aligned. “I need—I want—”

Draco knew.

“Are you sure?” the blonde asked; Harry felt his whole body shaking with need.

“Please!”

Draco nodded and kissed Harry on the lips again; Harry did not bite back the near scream he released at the taste of his precum on Draco’s tongue.

“I want this to be slow,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, rubbing his clothed hardness against Harry’s exposed cock. Harry gasped and gripped Draco’s shoulders tighter. “I want you to feel every part of me… I want to savor every part of you.”

“Yes,” Harry moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Please, please.”

The lips were on Harry’s neck, the hands were on his cock, pumping slowly, up and down at a steady pace. Harry’s eyes were fluttering, his hips bucking against Draco. The blonde groaned against Harry’s neck; Harry could feel Draco’s hands removing his own pants and Draco was suddenly gone from him. Harry’s eyes snapped open as he watched Draco rip both their pants and underwear off and toss it to the ground.

They were both fully nude in front of each other.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry whispered in awe, sitting up again. He ran his hand over Draco’s thin chest, marveled at his milky white skin, his strong, lean figure. “My God—”

Draco’s lips were on his again, kissing away Harry’s words. Their erections moved together now, Draco’s hand in between both.

“Do you want me in you?” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear. Harry bucked his hips up in response. “Do you want me to love you, slow and deep?”

“Draco,” Harry growled, his back arching.

“Do you want me to fill you deep inside? Do you want every part of me?”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He and Draco stared at each other, their breathing short and labored. Draco’s eyes were swimming with lust and love, begging Harry to say yes.

“I want all of you,” Harry said, surprised when the words left him. He had never before wanted to give himself up to another human being like this, had never thought he was capable. “Draco, I need you.”

Draco moved down Harry’s body at those words, and he spread Harry’s legs apart. Harry prepared to feel the blonde’s incredible lips over his cock but gasped in surprise when instead, they nudged his entrance. Harry’s hands instantly went to Draco’s hair, fumbling through the blonde locks and pure electricity jolted through his body as Draco kissed his ass, his tongue breaching the tight muscle, his saliva coating Harry’s insides.

Harry was crying out now, not bothering to hide his pleasure or hold it back. He heard Draco moaning against his entrance, the feel of his tongue inside of him, loving him, stretching him was incredible, burning pleasure. The terrible ordeal he faced that summer, the rape, the pain that went along with it was wiped from Harry’s mind entirely as Draco continued to lick and love his insides. After a few minutes replaced his tongue with a slick finger. Harry gasped as Draco glanced up at him.

“That’s it,” Draco whispered, staring at Harry in reverence. “That’s it.”

Harry thrust down against the finger, overwhelmed with the feeling, desperate for more. Draco seemed to know because a second one was inserted and Harry hissed at the burn; but it wasn’t painful. It was exquisite torture, the way Draco’s fingers thrummed his insides, pushed at the bundle of nerves so far in causing Harry to nearly come then.

“Please!” Harry cried out again.

“Not yet my beautiful love,” Draco said his voice clouded with lust. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t!” Harry moaned, his mind shutting down. He knew exactly what he needed and it was Draco’s cock buried deep in him, not his fingers.

Draco pulled his fingers from Harry and coated them with more of his saliva, but this time, he pushed three in. Harry screamed in need, shoving his face against the piles of pillows next to him and Draco was groaning low in his throat.

“I need more lubrication,” the blonde muttered.

“The nightstand. Lotion,” was all Harry could say.

Draco pulled his fingers from Harry again and nearly fell off the bed in his haste to get to the night table. His thrumming erection was so near Harry’s lips that Harry couldn’t resist leaning up and capturing the engorged flesh in his mouth. Draco cried out when Harry did this, nearly dropping the bottle of lotion. He positioned himself quickly over Harry’s face as Harry laid down his head against the pillows, his eyes shut as he sucked enthusiastically. Draco’s taste, his hardness, the feel of the blood rushing through his beautifully erect cock was utter heaven for Harry. He grasped Draco’s hips and steadied the blonde as he moved his head back and forth quickly, sure to keep his lips puckered. Draco was looking down at Harry in awe, riding his face, completely lost in the feeling.

But he pulled himself away as he felt himself losing control.

“No, I don’t want to come yet,” Draco groaned and he went back to his minstrations, smothering Harry’s insides with lotion.

Soon he coated his thick cock and Harry stared at him, waiting, needing. He was begging again, desperate. He gasped when Draco positioned himself at his entrance, leaning entirely over Harry’s body.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco moaned and in one slick movement, thrust entirely into him.

Harry opened his mouth in a silent, pleasurable scream, his back arching. This feeling of fullness, of Draco’s throbbing cock in him was too much. He knew he would come soon though he wanted so badly to last, to draw this out for hours and hours. Draco was crying out against Harry, whose eyes were shut tight. Draco thrusted in and out and Harry felt a hand on his chin.

“Look. At. Me,” Draco growled.

Harry’s eyes shot open and the two boys were boring into each other. Harry felt Draco’s hand on his cock, pumping to the rhythm of his controlled thrusts and soon, Harry felt the familiar heat coiling in his lower belly, threatening to spill his seed.

“Draco!” Harry screamed as he climaxed, the feel of his sticky come coating between their bodies.

Draco was moaning wildly now, both boys still staring deep into each other’s eyes. Harry’s hands went to Draco’s ass, pushed the blonde in deeper. With a cry, he felt Draco’s seed coat his insides, fill every part of him with warmth. Draco rode himself out until he was exhausted and collapsed on top of his lover.

Harry and Draco stared at each other for some time; each boy was overwhelmed with what just transpired between them and Draco, with a groan, pulled his softening cock from Harry’s tight warmth. Harry whimpered at the loss.

Draco ran his hands through Harry’s sweaty hair and kissed his forehead.

“You okay?” he whispered to Harry.

Harry nodded, smiling.

Draco however looked solemn, suddenly overcome with a question. Harry felt nervousness creeping upon him again.

“Can I ask you something?” Draco whispered, looking at Harry seriously now.

“Of course.”

“Do you trust me?”

Harry blinked.

“Yes,” he said softly.

“Then tell me,” Draco asked, his voice braced, as if he were calculating his next words with extreme care and need. “Why do you cut yourself?”

TBC
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Endurance