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Sanctum Sanctorum	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28274 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Chapter Twenty-Six--In the Bedroom

            Draco half-closed his eyes and stood there a moment. He had Harry Potter where he wanted him, finally, not moving, surrendering to Draco and agreeing that they should speak about the twisted mesh of ideas and thoughts and desires that surrounded them.

            The thought of it made Draco's heart pound and his mouth flood with saliva.

            He spent a minute more with eyes closed, to control his reaction. Then he opened them and studied Potter, poised on the edge of his chair. His legs were folded, his arms clasped around his knees as though he wanted to compress them and make himself smaller still. His eyes blinked frequently, but they focused on Draco's, and they were still the most ridiculously compelling shade of green that Draco had encountered.

            His thoughts murmured Have to do this, and It might be okay, and I don't think he would have invited me here if he wasn't serious.

            "You're right," Draco said finally, choosing to answer a thought instead of Potter's words. He leaned forwards, and Potter settled back into his chair as though striving for an escape. Draco felt his tight muscles relax; he hadn't even realized how much he had needed to see a gesture like that, some sign that Potter was not in perfect control. The thoughts told him that, but the thoughts, this time, weren't enough. "I am serious. And I think the first thing we need to speak about is how you sucked me." The words came out without faltering.

            It was more than Potter could manage. The thoughts in the back of his head scattered like frightened pigeons, and his face flushed red, and his eyes immediately turned away from Draco's as he tried to mutter something.

            "I know that you did it to settle yourself and expel the violence," Draco said, before Potter could exasperate him further. "I know that. It worked. I appreciate that, and am glad that it did, or both I and Adam might have died of the unleashed magic thundering through you."

            It had been a good move to mention Adam. It made Potter's eyes focus on him again, for one thing. He licked his lips and said, "I--that's good. I'm glad you understand that. And I can apologize if that's what you'd like." He was studying Draco now with slow blinks of his eyes, and the one coherent thought in the back of his head said, If he understands, why bring it up?

            Draco smiled. His merciless smiles might not impress Moonstone and his like, but the way that the color fled from Potter's face and then came tumbling back was a charm to make up for that. "I don't want an apology. I want a repeat."

            Potter's eyes flashed like the storm that was so often going on in his head, and he rose to his feet, reaching out as though to catch Draco's hips. Draco snatched the nearest hand and spun Potter with it at the end of their arms, smashing him into the wall. Potter coughed in shock, and Draco leaned an elbow on his throat to keep his attention. Potter's eyes widened, his legs starting to tense, and Draco leaned nearer and slid his thigh between Potter's. He thought Potter might have groaned, but he considered the elbow in his throat and wisely didn't.

            "The same action," Draco said. "Not the same emotion, nor the same reasons. Focus on me. Give me what I want. You were so set on doing just that a moment ago, when you thought I wanted an apology. Why not now?" Because Potter's head was shaking slowly, and the multiple voices in the back of his head became one, not to kill but to agree on the thought, He's insane.

            "Because you have no reason to want that," Potter said. "And because an apology is easier than a blowjob."

            Draco laughed a little. "Honesty at last," he said. "At least in the last part. In the first, you cannot know my motives." He eased up on the pressure on Potter's throat, since he was starting to pant, and not in an attractive way. "I want you focused on me. You have focused on the dead, on Adam, on Moonstone, on your friends. But you have thought little of me except when I tried to prevent you from doing something. Now I want that."

            "You're--wrong about thinking little of you," Potter said, and lowered his head without taking his eyes off Draco, as if he wanted to trap Draco's arm against his neck. "And because I think more of you than you evidently do of yourself, I know that an expert blowjob from anyone would be of use to you. It's not that you want me, it's just that you want someone's throat to shoot down."

            Draco pressed back again, because evidently all Potter did with more breath was make mistakes with it. "You idiot," he hissed. "If I had so little regard for you, why would I stay with you?"

            "Because of revenge," Potter said. "You haven't had revenge on Moonstone and Schroeder yet. And there's a difference between regarding me as a partner in this revenge scheme and regarding me as a--a partner."

            "A lover," Draco corrected, and watched Potter turn so horribly red he would have feared a heart attack if he hadn't been able to feel the healthy way that heart pounded away against his hand. "Why do I have less trouble saying the word than you, Potter, the ultimate Gryffindor?"

            "Because I'm no one's lover," Potter said harshly, and reached up to remove Draco's arm. "My first obligation right now is to Adam. Not to you."

            "You say that," Draco said, moving to the side so that he could hold Potter even as he permitted the other man to throw off his arm, "but who brewed potions to rescue you? Who permitted you to escape trouble from constantly using Dark Arts, and made you think of other options? Who gave you the information and baited the traps you needed to catch Moonstone?"

            Potter's nostrils flared for a moment, and he stood still with his body shuddering. Draco reached a hand down to stroke his chest. A rather well-defined body, of course the host of an annoying spirit, but worth investigating in many ways.

            "Right, fine," Potter said. "An obligation to you. I have that. You want a blowjob? You can have that."

            "I believe I've stated what I want," Draco murmured, and wondered if he should kiss Potter yet. No, perhaps he should wait until the man was less likely to bite.

            "Why?" Potter flared back, all the bitter fire in his eyes and his thoughts, his hands clenching down at his sides. Draco reminded himself that Potter didn't need a wand to stun him, and checked his thoughts through the potion bond. They still chattered incoherently, but at least hadn't smoothed into that deadly silence Potter had used when he attacked Moonstone. "That's what makes no sense. Revenge I can understand. Payment too. But this isn't any kind of payment, and it doesn't make sense as revenge. If you'll tell me what you want, Malfoy, then I can settle the debt."

            "The way you can with Adam?" Draco asked, immensely enjoying himself now as he watched the light in Potter's eyes turn even darker. "The way you can with your friends?"

            Potter hissed at him. Draco listened, but didn't think he caught Parseltongue in the sound, much as he would have liked to.

            "That's what I want," Draco said. "That's my price. To become important to you, in a way that you can't toss aside. You've taken time and attention from me, and money, if you count the time that I've spent keeping the shop closed. Safety, even, if Moonstone's friends should guess who kidnapped him. No mere price, no apology, satisfies me for that. But you will. The gift of someone who will pay attention to me, and focus on me as something more than a means to an end." He moved closer to Potter, feeling him harden. He could claim many things, but not that he wasn't attracted to Draco. "Surely that is what my services are worth?" he murmured, and eyed Potter's mouth.

*

            Harry had no idea what Malfoy was hearing from the back of his mind right now, and, right now, he didn't much care. He could only stare at him with his heart and his lungs shuddering from the shock and try to gasp.

            That was what Malfoy wanted. That was what Draco wanted, from the way his hand was braced against his chest. It was only part of what Harry thought they had come here to discuss, but it was more than he had expected to get.

            And part of him...

            Part of him didn't care if it made sense or not, if it was what he had expected or not. He wanted it too much. There was still a taste of Draco in his mouth, a longing to see Draco looking at him with something other than disdain or impatience, and this was the possible means to that end.

            He leaned in and kissed Draco.

            Draco jolted against him for a moment--Harry rather thought he had expected to be in control--and then his fingers sank deep and clawed into flesh and muscle. Harry kissed back in response, biting his lips and tasting Draco's tongue when he opened his mouth. He chuckled to feel Draco leap against him when he reached down to palm his erection. That was fun. And it was fun to feel Draco burning against him, striving, trying to hold him and pull him away from the door to feel his arse and be on top all at once. Harry aimed them in what he thought was the direction of the bed and pushed them away from the door.

            It wasn't the direction of the bed, or at least not close enough to count. They crashed into the floor instead, making Harry's teeth jar in his head and feel like they were going to come out. They would have fallen with Draco beneath him, but Harry rolled instinctively and hunched with his head up to reduce the impact. Draco laughed breathlessly into his face, and then he writhed, his hands on either side of Harry's head, holding back his wrists. Harry coiled his legs under him to kick before he remembered where he was and who he was with, and restrained himself with a grind of his teeth and a clench of his jaw, half-tossing his head.

            "This is what I want," Draco hissed into his face, and pressed down with the weight of his hips and body, arching where he didn't have the length, forcing Harry's tensed legs down and apart. Harry swallowed and complied, knowing he wanted to do this, but struggling against the instincts of his training. Draco made a soft, inquiring noise above him, but Harry didn't say anything in words, not thinking he needed the information to figure it out for himself.

            In the end, Draco knelt between his spread legs and stared at him. One of his hands had come to rest on Harry's face; the other held down his left wrist. The hand on his face brushed back and forth as though Draco was feeling the shape of Harry's teeth through his lips. His brow had started to furrow.

            Oh, God, any minute he's going to say something about how he isn't sure. And I don't want to think about this. This is what I want.

            Harry rolled his eyes and said in a ringing voice, not concerned about Kreacher coming in with the charms that Draco had put on the door, "What, deciding that you're not man enough to fuck me?"

            Draco's face changed completely, though maybe more because of the thoughts that Harry could feel boiling in the back of his head than because of the words themselves, and he darted his head down and bit the base of Harry's throat where his shirt folded over. Harry tossed his head back and let his legs fall further open, and ground up against Draco, spilling out words that he couldn't remember much of afterwards, except for, "You'd better be man enough."

            Draco reared back and pulled his hawthorn wand out. Harry felt the pulse of familiar magic right next to him before his clothes vanished, and then Draco tossed the wand onto the bedside table and said, "You know, we do have a perfectly good bed right next to us that we could be using."

            "Oh, we could do that," Harry said, cursing the tremor in his voice as Draco reached back and fingered his balls and hole, while he tried to press his foot into Draco's arse and was stopped by the cloth that was still in the way, on Draco. "Or you could give me a pounding right here that's less likely to cost me a piece of furniture."

            Draco laughed as if the novelty of someone saying things like that to him was as great as it was for Harry, and efficiently undid the buttons holding his trousers shut, pushing them down his hips. His pants followed, and Harry was pleased to see that his cock was more than perfectly good. Draco reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small vial of what looked like a honey-colored potion. He raised his eyebrows at Harry.

            Harry grinned at him, flying on impulse and desire. "Let's see what that does when we use it as lube."

            Draco smiled at him in response, a smile that Harry thought he had seen echoes of in his face all along, and coated his own cock first, stroking himself luxuriously and groaning so loudly Harry said, "You would have been a good actor."

            Draco simply snorted and then reached down and for his hole again. Harry let his legs sprawl and closed his eyes, the better to concentrate on the sensation. The finger hurt, and burned, and dug, and was good. He would have reached down and pushed Draco's whole hand into himself if he hadn't added a second finger at that moment. Harry groaned in turn and humped into the air, nearly sending Draco flying.

            "Impatient, impatient," Draco said, and pushed in a third before Harry's body had got used to the second finger, which felt more than good.

            "Yes," Harry said. "Eager for my first taste of it, which you should have figured out by now if you had a working brain. Shame it's just extra weight that you carry in your skull."

            Draco's hand tried to stop, but Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, that vaunted potions bond didn't tell you anything about how eager I was for it, then?" and drove himself down on Draco's hand. Draco flushed, and spread his fingers wide, and moved them up and down. Harry hissed.

            "My cock's bigger than that," Draco said, his eyes always burning, never moving from Harry's face.

            "Doesn't look it," Harry snapped, reaching down to spread himself open, because Draco had tugged his fingers out and was adding an extra helping of potion to himself. Harry wondered for a moment whether it could be absorbed through the skin, and what it did, and then flung the thought into the whirling abyss of emotion that threatened to consume him. He wondered when the impossible had happened and he had started to trust Draco Malfoy.

            "But it'll feel like it," Draco said, and then he shoved in and Harry shoved back and a grunt of satisfaction shoved its way out of Draco's throat and a shout shoved its way out of Harry's.

            It hurt, but Harry had fought pain when enemies tortured him and when Bellatrix killed Sirius and when he suffered with the dead. He could take this. He wanted to take this, and he was with someone who wouldn't give him more than he could bear, because what he wanted to bear was everything. He began to fuck himself, rocking up and down, gasping up at a motionless Draco who stared at him with parted lips, because he didn't seem to get it.

            "Do I have to do everything by myself?" Harry demanded.

            And then Draco got it, and threw his back into it. Harry closed his eyes and gloried.

*

            Potter was warm. Draco clenched his hands down and felt skin slip and slide and mark beneath his nails. He felt tightness clench him. He heard breathless little grunts of pleasure and knew they were his own.

            So long as Potter shared in them, that did not trouble him. And when he looked, Potter's head lay on the floor and he fucked himself as steadily on Draco as Draco fucked him. His eyes fluttered open briefly when Draco snapped his name, and the thoughts in the back of his head sighed and crooned and melted together. They had lost the words.

            That was, perhaps, not as great a compliment to Draco's prowess as making them go silent altogether, but that did not matter. Draco had the rhythm now, and he was the one who would win and conquer Potter, show him that he could not go around being unaffected by Draco while Draco--

            While Draco--

            His own head tilted back. His body was there, his body was moving, but he had no control. Numbers sleeted through his head and shattered like words, like the voices of water and thought. His hips kept moving; his chest inhaled and exhaled, independently of him. It was there. He was doing it.

            It was nothing like making a potion. His hips slammed deep, and then locked, and he had no choice about the orgasm spilling out of him, no way to control the length of the process or the way he came.

            He had a choice about what he did afterwards, though, and with effort Draco kept himself from slumping down like a puppet without strings. He opened his eyes and stared into Harry's face. Harry stared back, his eyes half-open as if he had no strength open them further, his mouth curved in an expression that might have been like a smile if his lips were closer together.

            And his body kept moving, jerking against Draco's, unsatisfied.

            Ah, yes. He had control of that.

            Draco reached out and let his hand hover above Harry's cock. Harry tilted his head to the side and squirmed out a wordless sound, and Draco looked at how red his chest was, how dark the hair that covered it, how pale the nails on the hands that were opening and closing. He had almost forgotten that Harry was naked and he was still mostly clothed, although he had done it to make a point, of course.

            Right now, what he wanted was to make Harry come.

            He folded back all his fingers except his second one, and let that stroke down the center of Harry's cock, less a touch than the shadow of a touch, the feeling of a touch, a brush, a caress through the air, on it. But Harry tilted his head back further, and the flush spread down so far that Draco really thought he might be in danger of a heart attack, and then Harry gave a pained bellow and erupted.

            A stupid word, but that was what Draco felt happened, when suddenly his hand was soaked and his shirt was soaked and so was Harry. Draco took his eyes away from it after a moment and watched the way the tremors ran through Harry, subsiding only when the last of the pleasure left him. At least, Harry twisted his head to the side and started breathing normally.

            Draco leaned near to him, mouth at Harry's ear like a lover's, like the price he had demanded, and breathed, "There. Ignore me now. Ignore that."

*



            Harry spent a moment catching his breath before he could respond. He'd had as powerful orgasms, of course. It was just impossible to have one that was less strong than others, he had decided a long time ago.

            But...

            But he didn't often have ones like these, that made him feel clear-headed and gentle as well as drained and empty. He didn't like the feeling that echoed and ached in his muscles after he came, really, the way he felt like lying down and doing nothing. He wanted to be up and doing something again as soon as possible. He wanted the air to stay in his lungs where it belonged and stop escaping his mouth as if desperate to rejoin the rest of the air in the room.

            But as it was, this was the best he had ever felt after one, and he was sure that had something to do with the man who had given it to him.

            "I'm not going to try to ignore you," he said, when he'd spent some time gasping and decided that he probably looked like a stranded fish. His voice didn't shake much, either. Harry was proud of that. "But--you ought to know--that you might not get everything you want me from me. I just don't have it to give."

            Draco huffed a laugh at him. "And you are still determined to disappoint and argue with me, aren't you?"

            "Always." Harry stretched his arms above his head, and then stretched further until he felt his fingers brush one of the bed-legs and heard his palms crack. Then he shoved at Draco to get him off him. Draco only rolled a little to the side, in a way that made him heavier than ever, and skimmed a hand down Harry's flank, over the ribs.

            "I could get used to this," he said to no one in particular. "I could get used to being on you, with you--" He shifted his hips and Harry winced. "In you," Draco said, and his eyes had the sharpness of arrows newly-shot.

            Harry studied him. Draco studied him back, and Harry had the sensation that they were both, at the moment, equally well-known to the other.

            I'm not getting rid of him.

            Harry frowned. He didn't know if Draco would want to take care of Adam, or be with Harry once he realized what it would probably mean to walk away from the British wizarding world. But if Draco wanted to come with him for part of the journey, then Harry was, frankly, too glad of his company to turn him away.

            "All right," he said, and kissed Draco with a sudden lunge up from the floor that nearly slammed their heads together. Draco gasped, and then gave in to the kiss with a curl and flex of his fingers that settled them on Harry's shoulder. When he pulled out of Harry, it made them both groan.

            "I need to tell you what I learned from Moonstone about the location of the places they're keeping the children, and how many they have," Harry began.

            "Later," Draco said, and ran a foot down Harry's side, watching the spill of liquid down his skin. "I think we should both shower, and then your ward will probably be awake, and should be attended to. And then, when both of us have been reminded about both sides of this, then we will talk again."

            Harry raised an eyebrow. "If you're sure," he said.

            Draco rolled his eyes and hauled him to his feet. "I'm not sure about everything and anything all the time, the way you seem to be," he muttered into Harry's ear, his voice husky. "That's not the same as knowing nothing, you know." His hand on Harry's arm squeezed down firmly.

            After a moment, Harry decided to squeeze back.

*

            unneeded: I hope it was sufficiently interesting!

            Sp777: One out of three ain't bad, right?

            ChaosLady: I would say Moonstone is smart, but not able to see the perspectives of others--that is, not very empathetic.

            AlterEquis: And for you, I'm afraid it was one out of two.

            Duomi: Thanks! That's the reason for the spell that Harry mentions, the last-resort spell in case Moonstone should escape. He doesn't believe that he has covered all the possible corners, but he's covered all the ones that seem likely.

            Fullmoons_wings: I don't think this chapter ending is nearly as bad a cliffhanger. At least, I hope so.

            Draco may actually think about suggesting that the bond work both ways to Harry, since he has potions that would do it, unless he decides that it's to his advantage to maintain a mysterious, enigmatic silence at times.
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