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The Marriage of True Minds	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 55083 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Forty--Together

            Harry had never wanted someone so much that his hands were shaking before. He reached out and rested them on Draco's arms, trying to feel the skin and the flesh beneath his fingers instead of mindlessly thinking about his own nervousness.

            Draco helped with that. His teeth and tongue had descended on Harry's throat again, and he bit and licked until Harry cried out. Draco smiled at him and mouthed something Harry couldn't understand before he went right back to making Harry writhe and harden and feel as if he'd come in his pants.

            That was the antidote to Harry's fear, in the end. He felt the pleasure pulsing through him from the points that Draco chose to touch or focus his attention, and he wanted Draco to feel the same pleasure. He reached down and pushed one hand beneath Draco's shirt, scratching lightly with his nails at the short hair he found there.

            Draco gasped and ripped his mouth free. Harry grinned at him and pushed, and abruptly they fell from the couches to the floor. Draco spent a minute blinking, probably because he'd been under Harry when they fell and made the sharper transition.

            Harry took advantage of his surprise to kiss him properly, looping his fingers through Draco's hair and hanging on against the force of anyone who might want to tear him away: Lucius, Draco, his own feelings. He tilted Draco's head to the side and licked at Draco's throat, because he thought he might as well see if both of them had sensitive necks.

            Draco cried out, then pulled Harry closer. He had his hands in hair, too, as Harry found when he tried to lift his head. He smiled and opened his mouth, running his tongue around in precise circles. He had already learned that Draco liked those better than licking in random patterns.

            He was learning. He was learning Draco, teaching himself the language that Draco spoke and thought and moved in. Harry closed his eyes as much against the wonder as because it was hard to keep them open when he was rocking and rubbing against Draco's hip.

            Draco whimpered beneath him. Was there any sound more delicious? Harry hadn't heard one. He pulled his head back so that could he nip down to Draco's shoulder, and pushed his shirt aside. Draco stirred uneasily, and Harry laughed into his skin, then whispered, "No, I'm not going to tear the shirt like the uncouth idiot you're afraid I am. I'm just going to pull...a little..."

            And he did, and the shirt slid aside, revealing shining skin, brighter than ever with the flush of blood running just beneath the surface. Harry shot his tongue down and licked it, running in harder and harder circles, then using his teeth when Draco began writhing hard enough to push him off. Draco went limp at that, his mouth opening, his tongue dangling between his lips.

            God. "I want to know everything about you," Harry whispered, hardly realizing that he was speaking aloud. "I want to know...so much..." His hand came to rest on Draco's hip, and he pushed him flatter, spreading his legs, rubbing his cheek against Draco's groin. To feel someone else's erection was still a little strange, a little off-putting, but it was Draco, and that made it a lot different than some random stranger. Or Ian. It made this different from anything else in the world. Harry slid his hand down and gripped Draco's shaft, purely for the pleasure of watching him buck.

            "I'll do this now," Harry said, and didn't know who he was talking to. Once again, it could have been himself, talking him past his fear of fucking this up. "Is that all right?"

            Draco's eyes were brightly dilated as he looked up. He nodded. Harry smiled and kissed him on the thigh, then groped for his wand, still sitting in his robe sleeve, and cast the spell that would make Draco's clothing unravel, collecting in neat piles of thread on the carpet.

            Harry only laughed when Draco glared silent outrage at him. "I said that I wouldn't rip your shirt," he said. "Nothing else. And this wasn't your shirt." He bent down and took Draco's cock in his mouth before Draco could object, probably by scrambling away from Harry and trying to figure out some way to restore the cloth.

            He had deliberately kept himself from looking at Draco's cock for too long, because then he would start thinking that it was huge, and he would panic, and he would end up embarrassing everyone involved, whereas if he sucked, then he would please at least two people. Draco promptly dropped back flat, ignoring the way that his head bounced off the carpet, and groaned. Harry smiled around the head, glad that he'd made the right decision, and got to work.

            It really wasn't all that hard to work his tongues and lips and cheeks the way that he thought Draco would like, as long as he remembered to cover his teeth. They slipped through twice, and the slight flinches Draco couldn't control were much worse than the scoldings Harry had been half-braced for. He soothed Draco again, pouring in steady sucks he alternated with languid licks to make Draco feel so good that he would forget Harry had ever hurt him.

            The taste was strong and salty, the smell pungent. Harry had to keep pulling back to breathe, and he had a brief flash of the expression someone else would wear if they walked into the room, including his friends or Lucius.

            But it didn't matter, not beside the overwhelming need, desire, want to give Draco pleasure.

            And it was working. Draco's face was shiny with his flush, with sweat, with the tears of strain and effort gathering at the corners of his eyes. He kept reaching out as if he'd like to get hold of Harry's head, but his hands always fell short. Harry licked around in a descending pattern and watched his eyes literally bulge; he pulled back to pay special attention to the head and watched Draco's throat bob; he went down as far as he could, sneezing at the tangle of Draco's pubic hair and watched Draco turn his head away, twitching as the emotions and the sensations played havoc with his body.

            "You can let go," Harry found himself whispering, though since his mouth was full most of the time he doubted Draco could hear or understand him. "Just let go. You can, I promise, I won't be angry..."

            Draco said something, but it was garbled and muffled in much the same way that Harry's words were. He drew back and pushed his tongue in another circle. It was getting harder to suck; his jaw ached, and he wanted to spit out some of the pungent taste. But he wanted more than anything else to watch Draco's head fall back and his mouth open and his eyes flutter shut...

            At least, he thought that was the way it would happen. Instead, Draco arched up with a choked curse, and his hips hammered in a way that would have hurt Harry's face if he'd been stupid enough to keep it that close, and he began to come in a wave of wetness that soaked Harry's tongue and dripped down his chin.

            Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on sucking, making it as good as he could for Draco even in the midst of his orgasm. He coughed and choked, and he had to spit out a lot of it. He had the vague idea that was impolite, but his mind was full of the way Draco's mouth had opened as he cursed, and the soft noises Draco was still making, which sounded as if he didn't know he was making them. He was too busy thinking to swallow it all.

            He ended up half-draped over Draco's body, panting, while Draco watched him with slitted eyes. He reached up and scraped the side of a finger over Harry's lips, pulling his hand back to stare at it in wonder.

            "I didn't know that you would do something like that," he said quietly.

            "I didn't know that I would, either," Harry said honestly. His voice was hoarse. He winced, a little, and tried his best to focus on Draco. "Do you mind that I couldn't swallow it all?"

            Draco laughed. "Did it look as if I minded?" He drew Harry down to him, in a movement that would have gone faster if his muscles didn't look like they were limp with satiation, and kissed him. Harry kept his tongue back until Draco made an impatient noise, and Harry reckoned he didn't mind the taste. Draco reached for his own wand, which had fallen out of his sleeve when Harry unraveled his shirt, and cast a spell that mopped up the puddle of semen on the floor.

            "You did a good job," Draco said. His fingers tightened on Harry's head for a second. "Unless you're going to tell me that you have a lot of practice...?"

            Harry shook his head, mute at the fierce shine in Draco's eyes. Even if he had practice, he thought he might have lied. The expression on Draco's face was, frankly, frightening.

            "Good," Draco said, and rolled them over, so that he was kneeling on Harry's legs and chest as they lay on the floor. Harry swallowed, abruptly aware that Draco was naked and he was still clothed, although his chest and his cloak were covered with spatters of white. The advantage should have been to him, but he felt powerless, not powerful. Draco seemed to see or sense that, since his smile widened into a baring of teeth, and he reached down and brushed his fingers over the pulse that beat rapidly in the base of Harry's throat.

            "I only wanted to make sure that I had your attention," he whispered. "I've felt--pressure to make sure that I had it, with Ian and the way that you talked about breaking the bond. I want you to look at me, now, to only pay attention to me."

            Harry shook his head, listening to the rustle of his hair against the carpet. "I don't know how you can have watched me suck you and think that I have attention for anyone but you," he said hoarsely.

            Draco cocked his head to the side. "That was a moment. An intense moment. I want to make sure that I have it for longer than that."

            Harry grinned up at him. He could play these sorts of games with Draco, and it was okay, it really was. He no longer had to fear that he was going to say something stupid that would set back their bond by days or weeks and make it impossible for them to trust each other. They'd both made the choice to be together, not just him. "Then show me why I should," he said, and lifted one leg so that Draco had no choice but to feel his erection from a new angle. "Prove it to me."

*

            The permission burned away barriers that Draco hadn't realized were still standing in him.

            That's what I was waiting for.

            He casually ripped Harry's robes off, followed by his shirt. He could get another set, couldn't he? He could bloody well do it if he'd disposed of Draco's clothes in that cavalier manner.

            Harry's bare chest had more scars than Draco had expected. He traced the long, silvery lines of what looked like cutting spells gone awry, one set of jagged marks that had come from claws, and the odd half-moon indentations of teeth. He shook his head. "Sometimes I think that it's a miracle you survived to come to me."

            "You think that I've survived just to be here?" Harry was watching him with glinting eyes, his hands curved as though he was going to make clawmarks of his own on Draco's chest. "You think that I only exist for you? What right do you have to get jealous of lovers who came before you?"

            "Because you would feel the same way about me," Draco said, and bent down so that he could mark Harry's shoulder with his teeth. "Because you're never going to leave me," he added next, "and I have the rights and privileges of being the only lover you'll ever need again."

            Harry stared at him with flat eyes; the flatness couldn't hide the passion burning there. Draco smiled and moved away, tracing every scar with his tongue, his fingers, or his teeth. He wanted Harry to feel his saliva on them, the heat of his mouth, the smooth edges of his nails, more than he felt the sensations of whatever had created them in the first place.

            Draco was here now. Harry wasn't going to run away from him, wasn't going to rise up and leave him behind, wasn't going to decide that this was all a mistake and he would wake up tomorrow as if from a bad dream.

            Harry had managed to imprint himself on Draco's memory with his first blowjob. Draco wasn't going to settle for anything less.

            Harry turned out to be sensitive on several of the scars. Draco took advantage of that, pinning Harry's hips down with one hand and holding him there as he fed and fed and fed on the striated skin, until Harry was gasping and whimpering and pulling at his hair. "Don't, don't, please, you'll make me come," he was whispering when Draco deigned to pay attention.

            "And that's a bad thing?" Draco licked the scar end to end, closing his eyes so that the taste of the skin could fill his mouth, so that he could listen to the helpless way that Harry shifted and the moans that worked their way into his ears. "You made me come."

            "I wanted to," Harry said.

            Draco laughed, and he didn't care if the sound had darkness at the back of it. "But it's not okay for me to want to make you come?" He fastened his mouth down, and sucked and sucked, and Harry's cry had pain in it. Draco sucked one more time and then reached down so that he could let his fingers hover above Harry's cock. It was flushed a dark red, and Draco hadn't touched it yet. He'd made Harry like this without touching it. He wanted to remember that, and to ensure that Harry remembered it. "What is this but another instance of you refusing the gifts that we want to offer you? Our food isn't good enough, our hospitality isn't good enough, my mouth isn't good enough to swallow you. Well, I'm going to make you see that at least some of the things I can do are good enough to make you come."

            He picked another scar that he'd seen Harry flinch at when he traced it, and ran his fingers down the skin above and below it. He looked up to find Harry staring at him with an expression of fascination, and bliss, and trembling hope, as though he wanted Draco to touch it but didn't know why.

            "You're going to come now," Draco said.

            Harry's eyes flashed. His hand rose and closed on Draco's wrist, and he was the one who moved Draco's fingers towards the scar.

            Draco smiled, drunk on pleasure that was almost more intense than his own orgasm, and flicked the scar, turning his fingers so that his nails rested directly on it.

            Harry cried out. The sound was harsh and came from the back of his throat, and it went on, ripping and tearing through various barriers on the way out. Draco sat back and watched Harry come, the arch of the liquid as it left his body, the wringing shudders that traveled up and down his spine and centered in his groin, the uncoordinated way his hips jerked up.

            Watched it, and savored it. All of this was his now. All of it.

            When he pulled back at last, Harry was breathing as though he'd run two miles. He reached up and entwined his fingers with Draco's, but didn't say anything. Draco kissed his hand, and wondered if Harry would think him impatient if he shifted forwards and showed Harry that he was hard again.

            What could he say? Weeks of wanting, amplified by the bond and the frustration of having to put off what he wanted, meant that just one satisfaction of his desire wasn't going to be enough.

            Harry had either felt Draco's shaft between his legs or sensed what he wanted. With a lazy smile, he reached down and ran his fingers along Draco's cock. Draco hissed, but shook his head.

            "I've had your mouth," he said. "I want something more than your hand, now."

            Harry rolled back over to stare at him as he said that, eyes wide. Draco bent down and kissed him, gently, insistently.

            "If--if you want to fuck me, then we're going to need a bed," Harry said at last, his voice thick. "I don't think that I want to do something like that for the first time on a floor. It's fine for sucking, of course, but I think I'd get a backache, and that means I could be--"

            Amused with his babbling, Draco trailed his fingers across Harry's mouth, effectively shutting him up. "No," he said softly, when he was sure that Harry was paying attention. "That's not what I meant. Not yet, at least. It would take too long, anyway, and I want you in the proper frame of mind when I fuck you. Will you roll over and let me--?" He trailed his fingers gently up and down between the cheeks of Harry's arse this time.

            Harry got it without Draco having to explain further, luckily. He flushed, but rolled over on his stomach and spread his legs. Draco hummed and settled down, sliding his cock gently between Harry's cheeks but not inside. "Everything we've done," he murmured, "and this is what you get embarrassed about?"

            "I just, I don't know," Harry said, and buried his face in the floor so that Draco had to lean closer to hear what he was talking about. Not that that was really a problem, not when he found even the back of Harry's neck interesting and even the sides of his face interesting to watch as they worked their way through various shades of red. "I reckon I thought more about giving people blowjobs and handjobs than letting them use my arse, you know?"

            Draco had to close his eyes so he wouldn't spill all over Harry's back from the jolt of heat that ran through him. "I think," he said in a low voice, prying the cheeks of Harry's arse open further, "that you don't need to worry about anyone but me doing that. Ever again," he added, and settled further in, letting sweat and the come that still clung to his cock ease the way.

            Harry did nothing but lower his face into the carpet and answer with a low moan. Draco stroked his flank, his side, and his back, trying to soothe him and put off the moment when he had to move.

            But it came, and he began to rock back and forth, listening to Harry's breathing under him, listening to the slight squeaky sound their skin made as they moved together. Because they were moving together, even like this, when Harry was tired; he shifted up to meet Draco, he shifted his hips against the floor, he shifted the scale of his moans up and down as though someone was using them to tune instruments by. Draco kissed the nape of his neck and stepped up his pace.

            Harry gave a broken sound and tried to heave himself up. Draco tensed his legs, prepared to rise if that was what Harry needed, but then he realized that Harry had only needed a hand beneath him for the obvious reason.

            Draco used the back of Harry's neck to hide both his smile and his laughter. "Well, well," he whispered. "So I'm not the only one who got hard again faster than I should have, hmmm?"

            "It's never been this way," Harry said, whispering back so fast that Draco thought he was eager to hurry the sounds out of his throat before they could embarrass him further. "I don't--I don't understand. How do you get me hard like this? It should be impossible. It's because it's you--"

            Draco pushed Harry flat after that, trapping his hand beneath both of them, and began to rock more urgently. Harry was rubbing himself at the same pace, his head bowed and his breath rushing to the point where some concern added itself to Draco's desire to finish.

            It was all heat and motion and the tightness as Harry's arse clasped him and the inevitable rising, the flaring coil in his belly and the way his muscles tightened and the breathless gasp of Harry's laugh beneath him as he climaxed--

            The pleasure hit Draco over the side of the head, and he fell after Harry into the abyss, fell after Harry into the warmth and the tide of their expectations for each other, fell after Harry because they were connected now, and always would be.

            Draco didn't think they could let each other go.

*

            The first thing Harry became aware of was that Draco's weight was pinning him down, and that his hand hurt like fire, trapped at the wrist as it was, still clutching his cock and covered with drying wetness. He moaned and rolled over, dropping Draco to an undignified position on the floor.

            Draco grunted and hung onto him, but at least Harry could pull his trapped hand free and shake it. He stared dazedly down at himself, at the drying spunk and the way his stomach, covered with it, heaved up and down.

            It had never been like that.

            He doubted it could ever be like that, with anyone else.

            That made him smile faintly for a second. If that was an argument for staying with Draco, it wasn't one that Harry would let carry much weight with him.

            On the other hand, he suspected he knew what Draco would say to that: that he was the only one Draco would sleep with ever again, so it had better be good.

            "You're all right."

            Draco's hand was on his shoulder, pulling him around to meet his eyes. Harry went with the pull, but caught Draco's hands when he was fully on his back and shook them gently back and forth.

            "I'm fine," he said. "But I think you're going to kill me with the way that you fuck. I'll expire after having my fifth orgasm in one night or something."

            Draco's eyes absolutely shone, and he still had the strength for a kiss that made Harry gasp as he drove Harry straight down into the carpet. Harry tried to writhe and come back up in another direction, but Draco pinned him down and kissed and kissed and kissed, and at last Harry went limp in self-defense and the interests of being able to breathe. Draco stopped the kiss at last, with a huff of breath that made Harry snicker, and propped himself up on an elbow above Harry, looking down with an expression that made Harry roll his eyes.

            "Self-satisfied," he muttered.

            "Yes, I know," Draco said. "As long as I can keep you satisfied, then I will be."

            Harry smiled and laid his head back, closing his eyes.

            They still had so many problems. Ian. The press. The decay wizards. Laura. What they would do if their bond really did tie them to living together in the same room...

            But right now, he could feel that the love they shared was worth it, since it was a consequence of all those problems.



*

            Night the Storyteller: You'll see Hermione and Ron later. I'm afraid that I can't comment on much of anything else.

            unneeded: Harry is kind of sorry that he ever involved Ian, but he will man up and talk to him face-to-face.

            Lucius wasn't thinking about anything but how this would make him look and what kind of power he could have over Draco and Harry, and I think it shows.

            Amiyom: Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it.

            SP777: Thanks! The review of the metals was necessary, I thought, because a lot has happened and it would be odd for Harry not to think back and marvel at how far they've come at least once.

            dragonstar01: Thank you!

            Shulan33: Glad you like! The side-effect of having to stay close together is a problem they'll need to solve soon, though, not something they want to endure permanently.

            And yes, Draco always had more faith that he was acting the way he wanted to, instead of as a slave of the rings. But he had more experience with that kind of marriage than Harry did.

            GlassSkin: Thank you! I hope you got your wish.
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The Marriage of True Minds