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Marathon	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 52456 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Nine—Kiss in the Corridor
            Harry wanted to squeak. He wanted to stop. He wanted to push Malfoy back and remind him of their agreement not to do something like this until they’d talked in more detail about his wife, and his children, and Malfoy’s treatment of Astoria, which was still this mysterious rumor that Harry didn’t know much about, and—
            And he wanted to melt into the kiss.
            His hands rose without his volition, and grabbed Malfoy’s head, so that Malfoy pulling away on his own would have been a bit of a problem, anyway. Harry angled his head to the side, and grumbled when Malfoy licked his lips and refused to give him his tongue any more than he already had. Malfoy reared back instead, and stared at him with narrowed eyes.
            Harry bit his lip, wondering if Malfoy would be the one to stop and remember that they were mature adults, not passionate teenagers, this time.
            “Fuck it,” Malfoy whispered, and dived back in, his teeth taking Harry’s lower lip away from Harry’s teeth.
            Harry felt his body shudder, but he didn’t know if it was all the kiss, or being banged against the stone wall, that did it. Or being back in Hogwarts, he thought, as shivers climbed through him and he grabbed Malfoy’s shoulders again. He’d thought the kisses he shared with Ginny when they were still Hogwarts students were gone. Warmth and huddled giggling and the thought that someone could catch them any second.
            Now he knew that warmth could transform into blazing heat, and this was a different kind of good, a different degree. Malfoy’s hand curved around his hip, and Harry gasped aloud. Then Malfoy’s tongue was in his mouth again, as much of it as Harry wanted, maybe to muffle the gasp. Harry swallowed and licked greedily, and Malfoy hooked one of his legs forwards in a complicated pattern, twining his ankle around one of Harry’s.
            Harry hopped, wondering if Malfoy was trying to trip him, if one of his old injuries in that hip would flare up again, if they needed to cast a Cushioning Charm on the floor—
            And then he realized that Malfoy had been urging his legs wider, because the next second, his thigh slipped between Harry’s, followed by his hand.
            Harry tore his mouth away this time. “Draco,” he said, because it was the only name he could imagine saying right now. “We need to—we need to—”
            “We need lots of things,” Draco whispered against his throat, and bit him there. Or he scraped his teeth, and against the flow of nerves that Harry had never realized he had in his neck and on his cock, it felt like a bite. “One of them is silence. Why don’t you shut up right now and let me do what I want for once, hmmm?” He squeezed, and Harry cried out this time. He was ashamed of that, but when he saw the greedy smile on Draco’s face, he wondered if he had to be.
            “Let me,” Draco whispered to him, lips on his again a second later, tongue delving deep, hand stroking expertly.
            Harry shuddered and clamped his thighs around Draco’s hand, which meant around his leg, too, and his lips around Draco’s tongue. Draco snarled, a sound that Harry would have thought he considered himself too well-bred to make, and his hand twisted.
            “Draco—Draco—”
            “Not really encouraging me to stop, you know,” Draco whispered against his ear this time, and he seemed to have acquired the ability to send warm breath anywhere he wanted, down Harry’s neck and over his ear and into wicked little places that lurked between his collarbone and his chin. Harry’s legs were buckling, sliding, and Draco seemed to be the only one who was holding him up, and that partially by his hand on Harry’s cock. “Not really encouraging me to do anything but make you come.”
            He drew out the last word, and Harry yielded to it, swept away by it, bucking and buckling further, and clamping down on Draco’s hand, riding it and his leg at the same time.
            Harry came while Draco was still experimenting with his teeth along the side of his neck, and Draco grunted aloud, both of them shocked almost as much by the sensations, Harry thought dizzily. Heat flared up and kicked him everywhere, and he bent forwards and thrust wildly against Draco’s palm, getting as much as he could, enjoying the rough cloth of his robe almost as much as his fingers.
            Then it was over.
            Harry started back, stuttered, and then reached out. Draco was already there, under his palms, blindly reaching for him, seeking him, turning to him with a noise of discomfort under his breath that only subsided when Harry took hold of his cock.
            Harry started again, this time because he had expected the sensation to be so unfamiliar, and it wasn’t so at all. This wasn’t so unlike holding himself—and he had done that plenty of times. He glided his hand up and down, and curled his fingers, and Draco ducked his head down and stamped with one foot.
            “Shhh,” Harry hissed to him, wondering if his voice would slip into Parseltongue and what Draco would do if it did, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to guide him closer, and closer still.
            Down and down went his hand, back, his fingers curling into the burning skin at Draco’s groin. That was the most unfamiliar part of the whole thing. Harry didn’t play with his balls all that often, but it seemed Draco liked that. When all Harry did was graze them with his nail turned flat, Draco whimpered, high and sweet.
            Harry discovered that he liked the sound, that he was smiling without even thinking of it. He reached out and pulled on them, gently, and Draco repeated the sound and almost melted over him. At least that meant Harry wasn’t the only one who melted.
            “Shhh,” Harry hissed again, into his ear this time. “Do you want someone to come along and find us?”
            Draco seemed to find the idea exciting, at least judging by the way he breathed out all at once and flung his arms around Harry. Harry kissed him, working him up and down, and Draco came quickly, suddenly soaking Harry’s hand even though they had a barrier of cloth between them. Harry took his hand slowly out of Draco’s groin, licking his lips, and wondering what would have happened if Draco had come directly on his hand. Would he have expected Harry to lick it off?
            That caused a profound and painful tug at the base of his own groin. Maybe it would have been enough to have him ready to go again when he was a teenager. But he was thirty-eight years old now, and he had other things to think of.
            They came back again, like little stabs of madness hitting normality.
            The children. Astoria. The silent promise he had made to wait to do this with Malfoy. The possibility that someone had come around the corner, seen them after all, and backed quietly away, and now was just waiting to humiliate them in any way they could.
            Harry flung his head up, and Draco caught his chin and kissed him. It was Draco doing this now, not Malfoy. There was no way that Harry could pretend to himself. It was Draco with the dark spot on his trousers, and the wildness in his hair and eyes, and he kissed Harry until Harry yielded.
            “You’re not going to draw back now,” Draco said. It didn’t sound like a plea, even though Harry supposed, dimly, that it should have. His voice was full of quiet assurance. “Even you have to admit that some things that happen, stay happened.” His fingers played along the side of Harry’s neck for a second, then dropped as though he wanted to feel Harry’s own wetness and softness for himself. “This is one of them.”
            Harry studied him for a second. He had to agree that he couldn’t draw back, not when he couldn’t even go back to referring to Draco as Malfoy, but he wondered what changes were visible other than the greater assurance.
            Draco smiled at him, and showed him. His face was flushed, and he wasn’t attempting to conceal it. The sharp lines of his face had relaxed, a little. He reached out as though he would touch Harry, and then pulled his hand back, but it was a darting, playful motion. Harry swallowed.
            “What are you thinking of?” Draco murmured, in a tone that added the words, What stupid thing are you thinking of?
            Harry answered without an attempt to blur the honesty, although he thought Draco might not relish it much. “That everyone is going to take one glance at us and know.”
            “Let them,” Draco said. One corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s about time that your ex-wife realized you are divorced.”
            “Ginny isn’t the problem,” Harry said, a little exasperated. “Al is already sensitive enough, and if some student sees us on the way back and reports us…Or what if someone crept up and spied on us while we were coming?”
            “At least you can say the word,” Draco said, and rolled his eyes a little when Harry scowled at him. “I know why this matters to you,” he said, more gently. “But it also matters that we get to establish our relationship the way we want it, without worrying all the time what other people think. Your ex-wife might even be satisfied. She thought you were fucking other people behind her back all through your marriage. Now she can go away with a belly full of it.” He caught Harry’s hand.
            Harry hesitated. “What would Astoria think of it?”
            For a moment, a chill flooded back over Draco’s face, turning him into Malfoy, and Harry nodded and started to pull back. That was what he had been afraid of, and it meant that it had been a mistake for him to allow this. Draco still needed more care and support than Harry had thought. He needed time to recover, and this had come too fast for him.
            “I didn’t mean that she.” Draco let that partial sentence lie where it had fallen, and took Harry’s other wrist, too. “I mean, she would probably disapprove. But there’s no reason that it even needs to come up. I left her behind so long ago that she has no reason to hold grudges over it. She’s never said anything to Scorpius about me. She never thought I was cheating on her.”
            “What was the reason that you couldn’t stay with her?” Harry asked softly, staring searchingly into Draco’s eyes.
            Draco closed his eyes and shuddered a little. At least that reassured Harry that it really was something important, rather than a silly little secret that Draco was risking too much to protect.
            “I don’t want to say it here,” Draco said. “Not where someone could overhear. Please don’t make me.”
            Harry nodded and then took a step back and raised his hands, because Draco hadn’t responded to the nod. At least this made Draco open his eyes. “Whenever you want to talk about it,” Harry murmured, “I’m here.”
            Draco nodded in turn. “I appreciate it,” he said, his eyes softly glowing, and Harry thought he appreciated the backing off almost more than the reassurance. He wondered if that had been Astoria’s only flaw, that she had pushed Draco instead of backing off, but then he rejected the idea. He didn’t think Draco had ever suffered from an excess of being cared about.
            He did think he could tease Draco, though. “You’re not worried about being overheard having sex, but you’re worried about this?”
            Draco raised his eyebrows, that half-smile back on his lips. “There’s a difference,” he said. “I wasn’t worried, I was embarrassed. And yes, I am embarrassed about one and not the other.”
            That left Harry not knowing where to look, and by the time he had started to figure it out, Draco had drawn his wand and cleaned himself up. He flicked it at Harry without speaking the spell, head tilting, and Harry nodded. His own Cleaning Charms worked well on cloth and metal, but not skin.
            In seconds, Harry was dry, and had only the tingling left as sensation. Then Draco caught his hand to pull him along, and he had something more.
            “Speak to your ex-wife as much as you want about this,” Draco said, walking ahead without looking back at him. “I’ll respect your decision there as you accept mine about Astoria.” His smile wasn’t nearly as visible from behind, but Harry could hear it in his voice.
            “The only thing I want from you for certain, right now,” Draco added, and Harry lifted his head, hearing the softened steel behind his voice, “is that you don’t go back to calling me by my last name.”
            Harry nodded. Once again, Draco didn’t respond to it, and it didn’t seem right to leave this important an answer up to chance, so he touched Draco’s shoulder hard enough to make him look back.
            “You’re Draco to me now,” Harry said. “I was able to go back to thinking of you as Malfoy last time only after Ginny pointed out that I was calling you Draco to her. This time, there’s no chance of stopping.”
            Draco really did look softer, handsomer, more pleased, more smiling, than Malfoy ever did.
*
            “Did you find Al?” Ginny asked the minute Harry came back into the hospital wing. She looked at their joined hands and then away, her mouth setting in a tight line. Lily moved closer to her, but didn’t look as though she was upset. Harry was glad for that as he answered.
            “No. He and Scorpius probably went to the Slytherin common room.” He turned to Jamie and took one of his hands, shaking it the way he would with a fellow Auror, staring sternly into his eyes. “You’ll at least consider some of the consequences of your thefts?”
            Ginny raised her eyebrows, but Jamie nodded. “Yes, Dad.” He looked at Draco, and his eyes softened. “Tell Mr. Malfoy that I’m thinking of taking Potions tutoring from him.”
            “He’s right here, tell him yourself,” Harry said, shoving Draco forwards with a light hand on his back, and then turned to Ginny. He knew she would want to talk to him before they left Hogwarts, and no matter what Draco thought, Ginny wasn’t the enemy. She was the one he had made these kids with, and if he wanted to raise them right, he had to include her in the decisions.
            He didn’t have to give her any say over the decisions in his personal life; Draco was right about that. But wherever it touched on the kids, she got to talk.
            Ginny only shut her lips further, but said, “I’m leaving the country on an assignment in the middle of the week.” Harry opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “One of those assignments that I can’t tell you much about.”
            Harry nodded. Although Ginny only reported on Quidditch and not the kinds of politics that were more likely to keep Prophet reporters dumb, he knew that sometimes the world of Quidditch could get even more competitive than international politics. Some teams would fight to protect the secrets of important plays or who they were going to hire next. “All right. What day?”
            “Wednesday.” Ginny’s eyes darted to Lily for a second, and then came back and rested on him. “You’re sure that you can offer her a safe place?”
            “I’m going to make sure of it, yes,” Harry said grimly. “You have no idea how thick the wards on Grimmauld Place are.”
            “And how Dark, I’m sure,” Ginny said, with a twist of her words that Harry might not have understood, except with the way her eyes cut towards Draco.
            Harry stepped towards her and lowered his voice. Trying to intimidate Ginny by height wouldn’t work, since he wasn’t much taller than she was, but he could at least show her he was serious and make sure no one else was involved in the conversation. “Draco has nothing to do with setting up the wards on Grimmauld Place. They were in place a long time before he came there. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I’m the one who retained the wards instead of changing them to a Lighter version.”
            “Draco,” Ginny said.
            Her face didn’t move much. Her voice didn’t have a harsh tone. But her lip curled, and that was enough for Harry.
            “Yes, Draco,” Harry said, and went on while she was still frowning at him. “You can say whatever you want to me about the kids, and we’ll talk about it. We’ll make the arrangements we need to for Lily.”
            Ginny narrowed her eyes and shook her head a little, but Harry didn’t think she was refuting what he was saying. She just didn’t understand, for no apparent reason.
            “But you’re my ex-wife,” Harry said, and lowered his voice all the further. There was no need to hiss threats. Two of their children were still in the room. They could be tense all they wanted, but they should be civil. “We divorced. I’ve already told you the truth about what went on during our marriage. That means that you don’t get any say now about whether I’m dating someone new or not.”
            “I knew that you were gay,” Ginny breathed.
            “If that’s the only thing you take out of this,” Harry said, controlling himself rigidly so he didn’t snap at her, “that’s half of what I want. The other is that you don’t get any say in who I date anymore. All right? You don’t.”
            Ginny turned away without speaking. Harry sighed and stepped back. At least they had got through the moment where Ginny told him that she’d always known, and it hadn’t been as bad as Harry had expected.
            There were a few more farewells then, admonishments to Jamie to behave and a hug for both him and Lily. Lily’s eyes were huge, but she said nothing. Harry thought she was probably still struggling with what to believe.
            Harry kissed her forehead and murmured her name and that he would see her on Wednesday, and nothing else. He would speak to her if she asked him, without trying to blacken her mother’s name. Until then, he wasn’t going to try to justify himself. His children needed him as a parent, and there were more important things to talk about.
            Draco stepped up behind him and guided him towards the fireplace. Since he did it after Ginny and Lily had already gone through it, and Jamie was waving goodbye, Harry didn’t mind. He looked back over his shoulder and gave one more smile at his son until the flames closed behind them.
            “About Astoria.”
            Draco spoke the moment they were back in Number Twelve, and his face was so taut that Harry only nodded and led the way up the stairs, to the more comfortable sitting rooms on the first floor. He hoped that Draco couldn’t tell from his back that his heart was beating frantically.
            It seemed that he was going to hear the story at last.
*
delia cerrano: I don’t know if I would say that Dumbledore influenced the way Harry raised his family, but it’s true that he wasn’t a good model for an authority figure.
CareLessLover: Well, Harry really doesn’t. He just thinks that maybe they should for Draco’s sake, that he might need more time for someone to pay attention to just him instead of paying attention to someone else.
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Marathon