Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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 Forty-Seven—Sharing
            “You were magnificent.”
            Harry opened his mouth to speak a little, to protest. He had been sure that the first confrontation he would have once he got back into the house after the conference with the reporters was with Lily, and that he would have to tell her why he was saying such bad things about the Ministry where so many of her family worked. She hadn’t been with him and Draco when they were in front of the reporters, but he hadn’t tried to hide the coming of the reporters from her.
            Instead, though, he found himself pinned up against the door that led in from the garden, and Draco leaning over him with such a hungry look on his face that Harry thought he might faint from the force of it.
            “So wonderful,” Draco hissed into his ear, and then upped the matter by taking Harry’s earlobe between his teeth.
            Harry half-melted, although he raised his hand to stop Draco. He didn’t know what Draco was thinking, or would think if they were in the Manor and Scorpius was around, but Harry’s priority had to be his daughter.
            Draco seemed to read his mind, and pulled back to give him an amused smile. “She’s up in her room reading a book I got her about famous witches.”
            “Got her?” Harry realized that his voice was breathless, and saw Draco’s eyes flash triumphantly. He was hardly going to convince Draco that it was better that they stop, when he sounded like that.
            Even though they had to stop. Really. There was an important reason for it. Harry expected to remember it at the same time as he remembered where he’d put his brain.
            “Well, fetched it for her off a high shelf in the library,” Draco conceded. “She didn’t know it was there, and she couldn’t have got it down if she knew.” He paused and brushed Harry’s fringe out of his eyes. “And I’m trying to have a moment here. Do you mind?”
            “It seems you need me to have the moment.” Harry’s voice was still that combination of breathless and husky that seemed only to deepen Draco’s desire, judging from the way he swayed against Harry’s chest.
            “Of course I do.” Draco dropped his voice. “And now there’s no one around to prevent us from having it.”
            Harry still thought he was opening his mouth to protest, until he realized that he had admitted Draco’s tongue instead. He moaned and wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders. Draco kissed him so hard that Harry’s head spun, and he didn’t think that was because Draco had numbing poison on his tongue.
            “Do you know what you looked like out there?” Draco whispered, and slid his hands down Harry’s shoulders to his arms, and then dropped them away. Harry wondered for a second if they were going to move this at least to his bedroom, but instead, Draco put his hands back on Harry’s waist, and then moved them down to his legs, in a way Harry had never felt before but quickly learned was made to drive him insane. “The way you fooled them all while pretending to keep an innocent face? Even the times that you looked down and fluttered your eyelashes at them made me want you.”
            “I was doing that because I honestly couldn’t think of what to say next,” Harry mumbled. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to admit to someone who had been made mad with lust by it, but it was the truth, and it came out before he could restrain it.
            “I don’t care,” Draco said. “Feel this.” He took Harry’s hand, and Harry naturally assumed that he would guide it between his own legs. Harry even swayed forwards a little to help. But Draco laid it over his own heart instead. “Feel that?” he whispered.
            Harry did. Draco’s heart was going so fast that it was simply a hum against his palm.
            And for some reason, that drove him even more insane than Draco sliding his hands down his body did. He snatched his own kiss, and almost kicked Draco towards the stairs, part of his mind still occupied with Lily and what she would think if she came down and caught them doing this. Everyone would be embarrassed, and for no good reason. He and Draco weren’t teenagers. They could wait until they got to the bedroom.
            But with the way that Draco turned and looked at him over his shoulder, it was really hard to remember that they weren’t teenagers anymore.
*
            “Harry.”
            This time, it was Draco’s turn to be driven insane, from the way he arched his back against the bedroom door and thumped his hips up and down. And that was because Harry was kneeling in front of him with Draco’s cock in his mouth.
            Harry had to admit that he liked this, the pressure of the floor on his knees and the ache in his jaw and all. To see Draco clawing at wood and metal and sighing and tilting his neck back as if he was going to dislocate something in his jaw trying to get himself further into Harry’s mouth was all riveting.
            Just think. I can have this for the rest of my life, if I play my cards right.
            The thought of that made him dizzy, and he must have stopped sucking Draco quite as hard. Draco’s eyes opened, and he looked down at Harry in a way that made Harry’s head spin in an entirely new direction. He tried to open his mouth further, ease Draco down his tongue and down his throat, and show him that he was as much devoted to sucking him as Draco could desire.
            But instead, Draco leaned down in front of him and seized his shoulders, pulling him up and whirling him towards the bed. Harry went, although it was hard to tell what part of the whirling was inside his head and what was outside. Draco held him, though, and Harry was pretty sure that Draco would take good care of him.
            Pretty sure.
            They landed on the bed, Harry on his back and Draco looming over him. Draco seemed to have acquired all sorts of shadows in his eyes in the moments between when he leaned against the door and now. He bent down, whispering, “This is the way I want you. Are you going to let me have you?”
            Harry’s mouth was so dry that it might have presented a serious problem with him answering. He spread his legs instead, and wriggled his hips at Draco, and tried to say everything he could with his body.
            For a moment, Draco’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected that reply, and then it narrowed into a shining smile. “Good,” he said simply, and rolled off Harry to grab his wand. He Summoned something, but nonverbally, so that Harry couldn’t be sure what it was until Draco turned around with it in his hand.
            Then his mouth went even dryer, and the sweat that was prickling around his hips and the nape of his neck where they lay against the bed seemed to become even thicker and hotter. It was a small, capped pot of some kind.
            “I brought this with me because I always do,” Draco whispered, unstoppering it and laying the little lid on the table beside the bed as though it would break if it fell. Maybe it would. Harry honestly wasn’t sure what it was made of. He was a little occupied in focusing on the way that Draco’s fingers scraped through the shimmering liquid inside the pot. “Heated and with a bit of sage added, it’s a good salve for aching hips.”
            He gave Harry a deep smile that seemed to reach straight back into all the shadows his eyes had acquired. “But I would be lying if I didn’t say that I’d hoped we would be using it for something different. And look, we are.” He took his fingers out and moved to kneel on the bed again.
            Harry half-expected to be afraid. He had never done this before, after all, and he didn’t know what it would feel like even if he knew all about what it was supposed to do in theory. But the emotion that filled his throat and head felt more like the combination of excitement and thrills that he had when he was confronting a new case than anything else.
            He hooked his hands beneath his legs, grunted a little in discomfort as that pulled at his shoulders, and lifted them up. Draco watched him fixedly, only shaking his head and focusing again when Harry wriggled his hips at him.
            “Yes, good, you aren’t uncertain,” Draco muttered, as though he wanted to be sure of that, and then slicked his fingers up again—maybe they needed it, maybe they didn’t—and reached down towards Harry’s arse.
            Harry closed his eyes as they slid in. Even though he was so brave, even though he wanted it, he was afraid that he wouldn’t like it, and then something that Draco wanted would all be for nothing. They would have come this far for nothing.
            Then Harry wanted to snort at himself. He sounded like the whiny teenager he had been at Hogwarts. Just because he was wary of ruining Draco’s enjoyment didn’t mean they could never do this again. It didn’t mean that Draco would hate him. Maybe he would enjoy having Harry do it to him instead of the other way around.
            “Harry?”
            Harry blinked and looked down. He realized that he was lying there with one of Draco’s fingers in his arse, and he hadn’t bitched or made any objection. He honestly hadn’t noticed it going in. He gingerly flexed his arse, and blinked again. Yes, the finger was there, he could feel it when he clenched down on it, but it didn’t feel as different and alien as he’d always assumed it would. Not that he’d spent a great deal of time thinking about something like this. Yes.
            “Are you all right?” Draco slid his finger in and out once, then again, watching Harry’s face a little warily all the while, as if he assumed that Harry would turn against him suddenly and clap his legs shut. Maybe shriek about his virginity, too.
            “Never better,” Harry said, and paused to consider things while Draco eyed him in what looked like a combination of wonder and mistrust. Then Harry grinned and hitched his legs higher. “Except that you’re going too slow. Are you going to give me something to feel, or aren’t you?”
            “You little fuck,” Draco breathed, but unfortunately, maybe, for him, the sound of those words in that particular husky voice simply made Harry moan. And accept even more of the fingers that Draco slid into him, two, then three, so fast there was no distinguishing between them, and then Draco was lining up his cock and Harry reached out and tried to drag him in with both feet at once.
            “Stop kicking me in the balls,” Draco complained, and Harry wanted to laugh because he knew that Draco meant it literally, not figuratively the way he once would have, and then he gasped. They both gasped at the same time, because Draco had slid in almost before they were aware he would, and they both looked down at the two of them joined together, and then Draco looked up at Harry.
            His eyes were so dark, so frantic, and Harry reached out and caught his hand, squeezing it once. “You can,” he said. “It’s okay.”
            Draco grunted as he drove deeper, all at once, and Harry rocked with the blow and gasped with the suddenness, but it wasn’t exactly in pain. This was the strangeness that he had more than expected to feel with the first few fingers, and hadn’t known why he didn’t feel. This was enough newness for the moment.
            Except that the newness kept increasing. Draco gave a few shallow thrusts, settled, mouth open and agape at himself, head dangling back as he continued thrusting, and suddenly they were fucking, almost before Harry had thought they would.
            He had to laugh when he thought of that, and Draco’s eyes flew open and he peered suspiciously down, as if he thought Harry was laughing at him. Harry had to grin and shake his head, all he could do at the moment. He hoped that Draco wasn’t going to require a lot of lengthy reassurances. He didn’t have the breath for them.
            Draco understood, or he was willing to pretend that he did. He locked his hands into place on either side of Harry’s hips and proceeded to rock them so spectacularly that a thought flashed into Harry’s head that Astoria didn’t know what she was missing.
            But it was sort of ridiculous to think about Astoria when they were fucking for the first time, and Harry reached out his hands and ran them over the edges of Draco’s hair, dangling from his bowed head. Draco blew and snorted, and Harry petted what he could reach.
            He lost contact as Draco went flying back suddenly, and reared up, and stared down at Harry with eyes that shone like morning stars.
            “I want to make sure that you enjoy it, too,” he said, in a voice that might have squeezed all the necessary breath for survival out of him, and then he began to move in a way that went faster and smoother and deeper, before Harry could reassure him that he very much was enjoying it, and Draco shouldn’t worry about that.
            But there was no denying that these thrusts were deeper and faster and hit something inside of him that Harry had heard about but never tried to touch before. He arched his back and thrust his hips at Draco almost without meaning to, and Draco leaned down like he was a vampire trying to suck in Harry’s breath.
            “This is the way that you were meant to look,” he mumbled, and lots of other things that Harry would have listened to more often, because he really did value whatever Draco chose to say to him, but his heartbeat roared and sang in his ears too much for that.
            But Harry could feel those words in the hands that Draco used to smooth down his chest and touch his ribs and stroke his hips, and he tried to answer with his hands on Draco’s shoulders, mouth on his chest whenever it came close enough, and his own sounds, which he could barely hear under his heartbeat, either.
            The ending came too soon, but Harry thought it probably always would, when he was enjoying himself the way he was. Draco stiffened, his eyes staring at Harry’s face as though it had filled with light. Then he dropped his head and shuddered out the last few beats against Harry’s chest, not looking him in the eye.
            Harry didn’t mind. His own orgasm was spiraling, carrying him higher, and even though he wanted to wait for Draco to look up so that they could share it together, he ended up coming in complicated bursts between them. Draco stirred and mumbled something.
            Harry supposed that meant his heartbeat was calming down, if he could hear that when he hadn’t been able to hear any of the rest of it. But he didn’t feel that way. He was still filled with a high, euphoric singing, and it was so good, like chewing icicles and running through a field of flowers at the same time.
He reached up with a shaking hand and touched Draco’s cheek, his eyes. Draco smiled at him and leaned back, casting a Cleaning Charm with his wand. This one was a lot softer than the ones that Harry tended to use on himself, and he shivered absently as it washed over him, instead of yelping. Draco gave him a sleepy smile of satisfaction that seemed to show he knew what Harry was thinking, and took some pleasure in being better at Harry even than this.
Then he curled up on top of Harry and tried to snog his brains out.
Harry didn’t know how long they lay there kissing, the slipping of their tongues in and out of each other’s mouths a lot lazier than anything that had happened when Draco was thrusting into him. Draco slowly slid away from him, down, out, and sprawled next to him with a softly happy look on his face. Harry traced Draco’s eyelids and lips with one finger, trying to learn the outlines of that look, to memorize it with some part of his body so that it wouldn’t be forgotten.
“What are you thinking?” Draco asked the question in a voice as soft and dripping as summer sunlight.
“That I love you.” Harry knew vague surprise as he said the words. What would anyone else be thinking about right now?
“Mmm,” said Draco. “Mmm. Right.” He stretched against Harry, and curled up again, this time on the bed. Harry knew from the way he shifted around and made soft noises that he was going to sleep.
Harry blinked and swallowed. It was silly, probably, but he couldn’t help wanting the reassurance.
            “And you love me, too, right?” His voice cracked in the middle, and he immediately wished he hadn’t asked. Was there anything more pathetic than asking? He ought to have done anything else, he thought blackly. Pretended that he was falling asleep, too. Pretended that he was always going to be the one to say the words, and that he didn’t mind if Draco never said them back.
            “Well, yeah.” One of Draco’s eyes popped open, and he looked honestly confused. “Who wouldn’t?”
            And then Harry was glad that he had asked, because no embarrassment could matter more than this emotion, wheeling through his chest so thick and fast and wonderful that there was no naming it.
            “Right, then,” he said, and fell asleep with his hand on Draco’s hip, and the room warm and dim and wonderful around them.
*
polka dot: Harry has already quit. He’s reasonably certain the Ministry will only go on playing mind games with him if he doesn’t do something like this.
BAFan: He will be.
delia cerrano: Ginny was suspicious because Harry still seemed to have passion for his job and children, but not for her.
SP777: This is the plan! And seeing what Robards does next, and meeting that.
CareLessLover: You’ll see.
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Marathon