Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Brutally Beloved	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the characters named here. I make no money from this writing.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Keeping a Distance

“I thought these were your friends, Potter?” Malfoy’s sarcastic drawl brought Harry’s mind abruptly back to the present. The summer night air was warm around them, and he could hear the muffled noises of the party behind the door at his back. “Still keeping secrets from them? Why, ashamed?”
“What about you, Malfoy? Have you told your wife? Is that why she’s not here with you? Found you sucking someone else’s cock, did she?” Harry shot back. Malfoy’s face went cold.
“She’s dead. And yes, she knew. I told her about a year ago.” Malfoy said, leaving Harry reeling with shock. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
“Oh.” Was all he could manage to say. Malfoy looked away, and took a breath of the still air. “I’m sorry. How did it happen?” Harry asked, his anger immediately doused as guilt and sympathy took its place.
“Childbirth.”
“You’re a dad?” Harry asked, sure that it was the wrong thing to take away from his statement, but unable to refrain.
“Yeah. It’s still really strange, actually.” Malfoy gave a small, private smile, and Harry’s heart fluttered at the sight. It was a loving smile, and one that made him long for the past. “Doesn’t feel quite real unless I’m holding him.”
“What’s his name?” Harry asked. He could just picture the little blond baby.
“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.” He answered with a completely straight face, Harry wasn’t sure how he managed.
“Of course it is.” Harry snickered. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Harry felt as if everything was back to normal. As if the past five and half years had never happened. As if any moment, Malfoy would insult him, and he’d be forced to kiss him.
“Fuck you, Potter, it’s a fine name.” Malfoy declared, crossing his arms. Harry’s grin slid from his face. He could feel it coming. The moment it all became too much, and one of them would leave. He knew it would probably be him. His chest was already starting to ache from looking at Malfoy. But Ginny was right inside, his whole family was in there, and he was out here. With Malfoy. There it was. The moment he realized he was alone with Malfoy, and he had to leave before something happened.
“I can’t do this.” Harry suddenly announced. “You may have told your wife, but I haven’t. I can’t hurt her like that, Malfoy. And don’t YOU dare say anything to her.” Harry warned, before he yanked the door open, and went back into the party. He took refuge in his fake smile, and the people that acted as a barrier between him and Malfoy. He knew Malfoy wouldn’t say another word about their past. Not with so many people. Not even to be cruel. Not with a child that might be affected by the outcome.
He eventually found himself sitting near Rose’s small trolly, watching over her while the rest of the Weasleys mingled. He didn’t mind in the least, and he let the baby chew on his knuckle and watched her return his smiles as he spoke to her.
“Well, that just warms the heart.” He did his best to ignore the mocking drawl, but the blond head ducked into his field of view, getting a better look at the infant.
“She’s making a mess of your hand, Potter.” Malfoy observed. Harry smiled down at the sloppy mess of his hand.
“I don’t mind.” He glanced up at Malfoy, and quickly looked back to the baby. He absolutely could NOT engage in the look Malfoy was giving him. It was one of his scarce looks of open contentment.
“Harry’s amazing with babies, isn’t he?” Ginny said from next to him surprising Harry with her presence. He hadn’t realized she’d approached.
“He is. Maybe he should come nanny for me. Scorpius is a handful.” Malfoy mused, looking down at Rose thoughtfully. Harry glared at him. He knew that Malfoy had said it in front of Ginny, knowing he’d be unable to refuse without looking like a monster.
“I heard you had a son! I’m sorry about your wife, though...” Ginny said, suddenly full of curiosity. Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to voice his opinion on the obvious trap Malfoy had set.
“Where do you keep hearing all this from?” He muttered, more to himself than anything. Malfoy had heard him, though, and gave him a small smirk, before he turned to answer Harry’s wife.
“Thank you. Any children of your own, yet?” Harry knew the slight narrowing of his eyes was an indicator of him fishing for something more than the answer to his question, Ginny glanced at Harry with a small, sad smile.
“Not yet. Maybe someday soon. I’m not sure I’m ready to quit the Harpies just yet.” She answered. Malfoy’s smirk widened, and Harry knew he’d read SOMETHING in her answer. From that simple statement he couldn’t POSSIBLY have been able to tell that that had been a spot of argument for years between them now.
“I see.” Was all he said, though, and Harry didn’t like the way his cunning eyes flickered between them. “Well, Potter, if you stop by Sunday, Scorpius will likely need a chew toy.”
Harry gulped. He couldn’t say no. Not only would he look like a cad, but he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the baby. And damn him, Malfoy knew it. He’d been had.
“Alright. Sunday.” Harry shrugged. He didn’t ask what time. He knew it wouldn’t matter.
“Oh no! I can’t come. I’ve got practice.” Ginny explained, with an almost convincing look of sorrow.
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Malfoy said in a tone that was almost disappointed. But the way his eyes flicked to meet Harry’s was an unmistakable silent gloating. He’d get Harry alone, one way or another. Harry looked away. He knew what was likely to happen if he allowed himself to be alone with Malfoy. He always seemed to get under his skin, to make him lose his sense of control, and sanity. He could never help himself when Malfoy started up. And then it always escalated…
“What the HELL did you do, Malfoy?” Harry whisper-shouted, shoving Malfoy into a broom closet, and slamming the door closed behind him. He’d managed to catch the blond coming out of one of the trials, and had pounced. He knew it wasn’t acceptable for him to interrogate a person of interest without it being on the record, but… he couldn’t just do nothing.
“What are you on about, Potter? I haven’t done anything.” He snarled back. He crossed his arms, waiting for Harry to move so he could leave the closet, but Harry grabbed the front of his robes, and pulled him into a threatening stare.
“You did SOMETHING, or there wouldn’t be an investigation. What was it?” He demanded, Malfoy frowned. A genuinely confused frown.
“I haven’t done anything. I’ve been toeing the fucking line, Potter. All I’ve been doing, day in, and day out, is watching these damn trials, helping send my mother and father off to France, and avoiding you!”
Harry was thrown. Malfoy had been avoiding him? Had that been why he hadn’t actually seen more than his back in a month? He tried not to let it bother him, but he suddenly felt guilty. He knew he’d been rough, but Malfoy had SEEMED to be into it. Not that it would ever happen again. He was sure. Never. Ever again.
“Swear to me you haven’t done anything illegal.” Harry commanded, watching Malfoy’s face for any trace of a lie.
“I swear. I’ve been a right fucking saint since my trial. I even cleaned the Manor out, so tell your Auror friends they’re welcome to TRY a raid. They’ll find nothing.” Malfoy snapped. Harry looked at him hard, deciding. He did believe Malfoy was telling the truth. He let his robes go, and took a step back, wanting suddenly to escape the way Malfoy’s smell surrounded him like an embrace. It brought up too many images.
“Don’t worry. There won’t be a raid. Someone’s a liar, and I’m going to find out who.” Harry promised. He turned, and darted from the broom closet before Malfoy could get his snarky reply out. He’d wanted to kiss him again. That wasn’t a good sign at all. He’d craved the pounding of his heartbeat, the adrenaline that came with the violent way Malfoy encouraged him to be more rough. He wouldn’t allow himself to be pulled in again. He swore it to himself.
But when he found himself on the steps of Malfoy Manor the next week, he knew exactly why he was there. His cheeks were red, and he nearly died of mortification when Malfoy answered the door.
"Hey." It wasn't the greeting he'd expected. He'd been prepared for swearing, threatening, and a demand that he never return. But Malfoy just stood there, staring warily through the space between them.
"Hey." Harry decided to respond. But his voice was hoarse, and he had to swallow, ruining the nonchalance he'd hoped to convey. So instead, he'd pushed his way through the door, and grabbed Malfoy's face to his in one of those hot, demanding kisses he'd just recently learned about. If Malfoy had had any objections, he'd been unable to voice them, as Harry had quickly dragged him into the nearest sitting room. He'd felt a little guilty as he practically tossed Malfoy on the fancy sofa. But still, Malfoy hadn't complained. He'd bitten Harry's lip when he tried to kiss him, nearly ripped out his hair from grabbing it so hard, but he hadn't said a word.
They’d quickly gotten enough clothing removed for skin to touch, kissing and biting, and grabbing the whole time. Harry knew he was being too rough, but he couldn’t seem to gentle his hands, or calm their vicious kisses. He wasn’t really thinking, simply acting on what he wanted, and needed. He yanked at Malfoy’s clothes until enough of him had been revealed, and when Malfoy seemed to realize what his goal was, he gave a bit of struggle, pushing at Harry’s shoulders, growling a warning. Harry didn’t care. He knew from their previous encounter that Malfoy LIKED the pain, and the violence, so he grabbed his legs, pushed them up, and spread Malfoy like an offering. He transferred some of his own saliva to his hand, and slicked his cock, more for his own comfort than Malfoy’s, and with two short thrusts, he was inside the blond.
Malfoy hissed with pain at the sudden intrusion, and Harry had felt his nails dig into his lower back. Harry ignored the groan, focusing on his own pleasure as Malfoy struggled, though less violently than he would if he’d ACTUALLY wanted Harry to stop. Harry suspected the struggle was more for his own pride than a desire to be free. As Harry had suspected, after a few difficult moments of holding him down, Malfoy seemed to relax, and his hands grabbed at Harry, pulling him in harder. The pitch of his voice changed, from angry grunts to longer moans of enjoyment. Harry closed his eyes, lost to the pleasure of the moment, unable to think of anything as he savagely fucked his enemy. There were more violent kisses, hands feeling skin, and a flood of noises that went straight to his core.
Malfoy had come first, gasping in an almost feminine way as his fingers tried to tear Harry’s skin apart, his face open in that same perfect display of ecstasy that had made Harry come back. His mouth formed an o shape, and Harry was compelled to stare at him, until silver eyes were pried open, and looked up at Harry with a look of desperation. Harry had HAD to kiss him, then. And for a moment, the kiss had been gentle, slow, and he could feel Malfoy shivering with an overload of sensation as Harry’s hips refused to give him reprieve in his post-orgasm sensitivity. But the deep, almost tender kisses were too much for Harry, and he quickly found his own release. When he finally managed to open his eyes again, he found the familiar silver stare, and couldn’t seem to look away. They both huffed in breath, in a moment of silent satisfaction. Harry wanted to kiss him again, to feel Malfoy’s need for him, but having cum, his thoughts seemed to be returning with a screaming volume. The same must’ve been true for Malfoy, because suddenly, he shoved Harry, hard enough to push the brunette to the floor.
Harry sat, stunned at the sudden relocation, and could only stare up at Malfoy in confused displeasure as he stood, and fixed his clothes.
“See yourself out.” Malfoy had snarled, and stalked from the room, leaving Harry in a very confused, and angry heap on the floor…

A/N:
Lily-Hopper: Welllll... It's ALMOST finished. Haha, writing up the last chapter, currently, I just... lose track of time on the actual positng of it. But it won't be left hanging for five years, unfinished. ^_^ It's also failry short for my usual writing, with fewer than ten total chapters.
Ooooo boy, I am also a big fan of inner conflict. Super fun to explore through writing, and one of the main themes in most of my stories.
I am also really excited to see how the other story plays out. I have only a general idea of main plot points, and am eager to see the characters develop as I write them for the last piece.
I cannot put words to how gooey and happy it made me to hear you say that my stories evoke such emotion. ToT To answer your question.... uuuummmmm..... I have so far made no money from writing, and have problems actually finishing things, but I do have original pieces that I'm working on. I'm also a bit of an artist IRL, so my lastest hobby-attempt at getting my original ideas out into a viewable form has been trying my hand at.... haha... Dating sims. (Please don't judge me!) I've only just started playing with that, though, so I have nothing really concrete, except, of course, a million ideas that I can't possibly complete all at once.
Haha, no problem. You type better english than most americans I know. XD I actually know a lot of people who have improved their english with reading smut, comics, and going on forums. It helps pull the knowledge away from simple classroom-language, and into a more natural flow. :)
I'm stayin' as safe as I can, and washing my hands when I get a chance, but unfortuanelty, IRL, I'm eSsEnTiAl. XP. And american, so my health doesn't seem to matter to our corporate overlords. :)
- 2
- 3
- 4
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

Brutally Beloved