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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.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Thirty-Nine—A Big Bag of Sticks
            “I know why you didn’t want to come into the room and speak to her,” Harry said, because it was the first thing that entered his head, and he didn’t think he could keep control of his tongue or keep silent for much longer, honestly.
            “Do you?” Draco’s voice was smooth. He took a few steps forwards, and then halted and glared at the kettle, as if it had been tainted forever because Ginny had touched it.
            Harry found himself opening his mouth in an absurd attempt to leap to the kettle’s defense. He closed it and shook his head. “I wouldn’t give you up because Ginny wanted me to,” he said. “And she was wrong when she said that you were abusing Jamie.”
            “Yes, she was.” Only the sharpness of Draco’s words let Harry pay attention to the way his hand had closed down on the edge of the table, white-knuckled and furious.
            Harry sighed and mopped at his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Draco? I think what she was asking for was ridiculous. And she doesn’t have any vested interest in who I date, anymore. If she thought it was a mistake to get divorced, then she shouldn’t have decided she wanted to be.”
            Draco turned back towards him, and Harry straightened his shoulders. He was oblivious and silly about a lot of things, too, but over the months of arguing with Ginny, he had got pretty good at telling when rage was aimed at him as opposed to someone else. And unless he had lost all his skills at once, he knew this anger was for him, and none for Ginny.
            All for me, how charming, Harry thought, and looked into Draco’s face.
            “I think that I heard you say you would give me up if your children wanted you to,” Draco said. “If they gave you a good reason.”
            “That doesn’t include wanting me to be more normal, or just because they don’t like you,” said Harry, and then the force of the blaze in Draco’s eyes dried his words up.
            “But I’m still expendable, aren’t I?” Draco whispered, around the corners of what Harry could have sworn was hurt. “I’m still just someone else as always. Someone who it doesn’t matter if you love, or if he loves you. Your children are always going to be more important than I am.”
            Harry shut his eyes and massaged the back of his neck. He should have known that Draco would react badly when he heard that. After all, the only reason his marriage had endured as long as it had was Scorpius. He had always been second-best to Astoria, behind her son and her lovers and her friends.
            But Harry’s kids were his kids. That would always be true. And it might not always be true that he and Draco were lovers. Harry wanted it to be true, but he couldn’t fool himself. Draco might leave if Harry pissed him off enough. Harry was already a little surprised that he had stayed this long, if Harry had hurt him as badly as it seemed.
            “I don’t want to put it that way,” he said, opening his eyes at last.
            Draco laughed like wind rattling the walls. “Of course not. Because you want to have us both.”
            Harry stared at him. “Of course I do. I want a good relationship with my kids, and a good relationship with you. Until you came, I didn’t have either.”
            Draco leaned back with his arms folded. Harry didn’t know if he was less angry or not; he was usually worse at reading people’s faces when it came to that. He just knew that Draco hadn’t walked out of the room yet, and that made him hopeful.
            “So you would date anyone who helped you with your spoiled monsters?” Draco’s gaze on his face was contemplative.
            Harry made a face. “Unless you think I sleep with my best friends and the rest of the Weasleys…”
            “None of them ever tried,” Draco said, with a simplicity that Harry found hard to avoid. “They thought they should leave discipline up to you and the Gingerette.”
            “Don’t call her that,” Harry said, and although it didn’t sound to him as if he was speaking up in defense of his wife, Draco turned as remote a look on him as if he had.
            “I see another reason why I might be less important,” Draco murmured. His lips barely moved as he spoke the words.
            “Look,” said Harry. Everything made sense in his head. He wondered why he couldn’t get the words to come out the way he wanted. “I have to be polite to Ginny for the kids’ sake. If you call her that in front of me, you might slip and call her that in front of them. And then that would lead to the exact kind of situation I’m trying to prevent, where I might feel like I have to choose between you and them.”
            Draco closed his eyes and tilted his head up. Apparently there was strong sunlight coming from the ceiling, Harry thought, staring at him. But Draco kept his jaw firm and his hands on the table in front of him, not even trembling this time. “Of course,” he said. “If you feel you need to.”
            And then he turned around and actually acted like he was going to walk out of the kitchen. Just give up on them. On him. On all of this.
            Harry stepped quickly after him, and then he stopped and said. “Well. I suppose you already made your decision, and it didn’t really matter what I chose, did it? Because you were ready to walk away the minute you thought I might choose differently, even though I never said I did.”
            He knew, somewhere in the center of himself, that Draco had a right to be sensitive, after his falling in love with Astoria had turned out so badly, and she had rejected him for the sake of the rules of pure-blood society. But Harry hadn’t broken a promise to Draco. Draco hadn’t even given him the chance to break it. Maybe he wanted to walk away. Maybe it was for the best, if he distrusted Harry that much.
            Draco turned around and stared at him, shaking his head a little. Then he lifted his chin again and muttered, “You said that you—”
            “I said I don’t want to be forced into that situation.” Harry walked around the table and went to him, even though Draco retreated a little, and Harry knew that he would never have gone to Ginny in the same situation, but tried to give her her space. “Not that I was right now.”
            “Look,” Draco said softly to the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t feel this way, since your children are your children and so important to you, but that’s the way it is. I don’t want to constantly walk on eggshells and wait for you to reject me at the first complaint. I can’t live like that.”
            “I wouldn’t reject you because they complained about you,” Harry began.
            “That’s what you said.”
            Harry sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, from the back of his head forwards. He had to grin when he saw Draco’s look of disgust. At least that was completely rational, and completely normal. “I said that because I wanted to reassure Ginny that I wouldn’t just ignore the kids because I had a new lover. And I meant that if they complained you were abusive towards them or something. If that was real and not just something Ginny thought up because I think she was looking for something to complain about. That’s the only reason.”
            Draco watched him with wide eyes, and then reached out and touched his cheek. Harry turned his face into the touch in relief, glad to see that Draco’s eyes were softening, and that he looked as though he would be willing to listen to a few more words.
            “So you didn’t believe everything you said to her,” Draco whispered. “I really couldn’t tell. You sounded completely honest.”
            Harry shrugged and stared at the floor. “I want to be civil. I can’t be honest. The last time I tried that…well, we had one of the worst fights we’ve ever had. And it’s so hard to know what to say to her sometimes, Draco. I get angry, but she’s my kids’ mum. I have to be able to talk to her and get along with her.”
            “I think she might be more upset when she finds out that you lied to her,” Draco said, and his hand tightened on Harry’s chin. “The way I would be.”
            Harry looked up and held his eyes. “I’ll try not to.” When Draco tightened his grasp still more, Harry held back on the gasp and shook his head. “I can’t think of any situation where I would right now. You and I haven’t had the fights like she and I had. And I meant what I told you about my kids. They’ll come first for me, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll kick you out because they get upset about you being here.”
            “Even Al?” Draco raised his eyebrows when Harry looked at him in some confusion. “He seems to be the one you’re the most desperate to keep the peace with.”
            “I know what it’s like for him, living with unwanted fame.”
            “The situation is nowhere near comparable,” Draco said, lowering his voice the way he seemed to do when he was really angry, giving it force that way. “Your fame was your own, and so were all the struggles in the war. Al lives in a world that you helped make safe, and thinks he’s the most miserable kid on the planet.”
            “How is he supposed to know what the war is like, when I very deliberately made sure that he would never have to experience it?” Harry asked, gently. “And anything can seem that overwhelming when you’re that young. I know.”
            Draco opened his mouth, then frowned at him. “I don’t recall teaching you how to argue better,” he said. “Or wanting to. You did that in spite of me.”
            Harry bowed to him, and then reached out and picked up his hand, bringing the back of it to his mouth to kiss. Draco’s eyes closed and his head bowed, his face struggling for a moment before he relaxed, as if he didn’t want to succumb to Harry’s touch.
            “I know it’s hard,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry that my polite lie to Ginny hurt so much. And I can’t ask you to be less hurt, any more than I can ask her. This is a hard situation, but it’s the kind that I walked into with my eyes open, when I chose to maintain a relationship of sorts with her for the kids’ sake and still take you as my lover.”
            “Because of the blood feud between her family and mine,” Draco murmured, as if reading the words off a page in front of him. “And because of the past that you and I share. She probably wonders how you can stand to touch me, look at me.”
            Harry caught up his hands at that, and held them close. “And she can go on wondering,” he said firmly. “I see no reason to share that kind of detail with her, ever again. Or share you.”
            Draco lifted his head. His face had tried to shut again, Harry thought, but there was no way he could simply pen all those emotions away. His expression danced and writhed, and then he swallowed raggedly and muttered, “I hate feeling this vulnerable. I hate that I have to keep asking for reassurance.”
            “I know,” Harry whispered to him. “But I was that vulnerable when you first started helping me. All I could think of was constantly being told that I—that it was all right for me to feel the way I did, and get angry when Ginny was spreading rumors about me being gay, and learning to say no.”
            “I think that you’ve done better, now.” Draco’s eyes were so bright on him that Harry smiled. “But I think I need one more kind of reassurance.”
            “What’s that?” Harry thought he could guess, but he had already spent enough time wondering and hurting Draco. He wanted to hear him say it, to be absolutely sure that he wouldn’t just hurt Draco again.
            “Take me to bed?” Draco asked. His voice was hardly distinguishable from the beat of Harry’s heart.
            Or maybe those words were the ones Harry wanted to hear, and the expression on Draco’s face told him enough, without speech. He leaned across, and kissed him, and did so.
*
            At first it was a little hard to do anything but lie there, kissing Draco, because that seemed to be all Draco wanted, too. His hands were in Harry’s hair, clutching tight and desperate, and his fingers were all nail and bone, it seemed, implanting themselves in Harry’s shoulders until Harry knew he would have red marks in the morning.
            It was pleasing to think of having Draco’s red marks on him, though.
            Finally, Harry broke away and kissed Draco’s hands and cheeks, and his lips again, quickly, so that Draco would know Harry hadn’t tired of him but so that he wouldn’t get drawn back in. Then he slid down Draco’s body, and cast the charms that would peel his trousers and pants back, in long, careful strips, so that they wouldn’t break any skin beneath but could easily be fixed by a Reparo.
            “Careful that you don’t take off what you’re aiming for, there,” Draco whispered. He was reclining on his elbows, and his eyes were as dark as space when Harry looked up at him.
            Harry smiled shyly at him—he knew it was shy, it couldn’t be anything else—and then reached out and unfolded the remains of Draco’s pants like the petals of a flower, revealing what he had come for.
            Draco was rasping hoarsely above him, his hands knotted into fists and folded behind his head, his eyes shut so hard that Harry could make out what looked almost like small dents in his eyelids. Harry reached up and stroked his hip in reassurance, and Draco groaned and grunted and shifted.
            Harry thought he could read the message in that silent impatience: get on with it, already.
            Harry grinned and bent to fasten his mouth over Draco’s cock.
            He choked almost at once. He hadn’t known, because he didn’t have any experience with a man, what it would be like to suck on something long and hard and pointy like that. He hoped that he didn’t cough as he pulled back, but Draco had opened one eye and was watching him. He shook his head a little, a tiny shake.
            Harry could hear all his own reassurance in that. Draco was telling him that he didn’t need to do this, that they could do what they had done before, that Draco wasn’t disgusted if Harry needed to pull back.
            And that made Harry want to do it more than simple need to reassure Draco could have done. In fact, he could feel his own desire welling up now, the desire to make Draco’s eyes slam so far shut and roll so far back in his head that he wouldn’t even be able to sneer down at Harry or do anything other than just give in and feel the pleasure.
            That’s what I want. To make him feel as good as he’s made me feel.
            This time, Harry went more carefully, and managed to fasten his mouth around a good three-quarters of the length before he felt like he was going to pass out. He managed to pull back and gasp, and then he dived right back in. His nose brushed hair. His lips tingled with sweat. He sucked.
            Draco thrust.
            Harry rode it better than he thought it would, but it still made a strange sensation push in the side of his mouth, and he felt Draco hiss as his teeth scraped him. Harry folded his lips around his teeth, which meant folding them around Draco. Draco made an even stranger sound than he had so far, and Harry paused.
            There. That’s the sound I want to hear again.
            He swallowed and slid down and swallowed again, and now he had almost the whole thing in his mouth. A slow, contented wailing had built in the back of Draco’s throat, and now it spilled out. Harry didn’t think he knew he was making it. He was writhing slowly in the sheets, thrusting as if he wanted to spill down Harry’s throat and didn’t care who knew it.
            Good.
            Harry had to move back and gasp for air a few times, but then he returned straight to sucking, and he flicked his tongue around, and he did his best to do things that he thought he’d like to have done to him. He didn’t really know. He had never had anyone but Ginny suck him off, and it was hard to remember what she had done when he had been the one in the middle of all those intense sensations.
            But he liked the way Draco’s eyes kept fluttering, and the way he kept reaching for Harry’s head and then dropping his hand back again, and then the way his body arched and seized and bucked.
            Harry didn’t know what it meant in time. Besides, he was busy rubbing off against the sheets. The flood of stickiness and salt in his mouth surprised him.
            He coughed onto the blankets, then hastily went back and swallowed as much as he could. He wondered if it was still considered rude to spit if you did it on accident.
            He was still sucking when Draco opened his eyes and reached down to gently nudge Harry’s head back. “Hurts a little now,” he whispered, and his smile was glowing in a way that meant Harry couldn’t take the words as anything but a compliment. “But until then, it felt so good.”
            Harry kissed him, full on the mouth, and Draco didn’t flinch from the taste. He wrapped his arms around Harry. “Do you?” he murmured.
            “Not now,” Harry said, and steered Draco to rest on the pillow, and stroked himself slowly. Draco lay there with big eyes that kept fluttering closed, and watched him do it. His head tilted back and he lost himself to snores so quickly that Harry would have marveled, except that he was the one in the middle of his pleasure now, thrusting and losing himself, loosing and drowning himself.
            When he looked again, Draco was far gone in sleep, and Harry had stained one of the strips of his ragged trousers.
            Harry grinned and cleaned up, although he left the Reparo for later. He curled up when one arm around Draco then, and watched the soft flush in his cheeks and the fluttering of his eyelids with the greatest feeling of contentment he’d had in a long time.
            And contentment was something wonderful in its own right.
*
delia cerrano: It would! But Draco was hurt anyway.
polka dot: Coddler of the kids, you mean? Because I don’t think she really coddles Harry.
SP777: This was a good break!
BAFan: Sunday dinner will be next chapter!
Ginny was being a bit overzealous in protecting her kids. Yes, “abuse” was stretching it.
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Marathon