Unintended Consequences

A/N: “Last Tango in Paris” (1973) was directed by Bernardo Bertolucci and distributed by United Artists. “Hot Studs” is a made up title, although I suspect there are several hundred real porn films out there with that title.



Unintended Consequences



Chapter 5



After several long minutes, Harry finally released Draco’s lips and pulled away to look down at the other man who lay against the pillow, his eyes still closed, long, pale lashes casting tiny shadows against his cheeks. You look beautiful like this. Harry couldn’t tear his gaze away, though he tried several times. He knew he had some explaining to do. He didn’t want to scare Draco away, though, with any bald confessions of love. No, Draco would run a mile if he knew how Harry really felt. Your hair is like spun silk. Harry sighed, restraining himself from stroking the long blond locks. If he wanted Draco to stay with him, to get to know him properly, then he had to think of a plan, and fast. Now that the bond was completely activated there was no reason for Draco to be with him like this. But he could live with that. I want to lie in your arms and never let go. For now. As long as Draco stayed with him.



As Draco’s eyes finally began to flutter open, Harry made a plan. Steeling himself, he pulled back and rolled over onto the bed to land on his back. He stretched languorously, reaching his arms up over his head, and sighed. “Well, I think that did the trick!” He stretched once more then moved to lay on his side, facing Draco, his head resting on his hand. “Thanks for that! You got me out of a tight spot.” He reached over then and placed his hand on the other man’s arm. “I really enjoyed it, too. You were wonderful.”



Draco turned to look at him then, his eyes unreadable. Harry hoped he wouldn’t immediately insist on leaving. Draco looked at him for a few moments then rolled over to face him, duplicating Harry’s position on the bed.



“Don’t mention it. You’re a bloody good shag yourself. Not bad at all for a first-timer.” He smirked and Harry grinned in relief. Well, at least Draco wasn’t angry or regretful. “Although, you could do with some more practice.” He leered at Harry suggestively, and Harry felt his cheeks flush with heat.



“Erm… sure, um… anytime.” God! Draco thought he was a good shag! Well, that was a start. Harry rolled onto his back again and looked at the ceiling, not sure whether his plan was going to work. “So, er… I don’t suppose you’d be up to hanging around here for a few days? You know, until the gossip dies down?” Harry glanced over quickly at the other man and, noting his frown, groaned inwardly. It was too much, too soon. Why would Draco want to stay, for God’s sake?



“Depends on what you mean by ‘stay a few days’,” Draco replied non-committally.



I mean, stay with me forever and never leave me! “Well, um… no doubt the press will have a field day with this, so if you could stay here, it would make my story more believable.” Harry couldn’t look at him. He held his breath as he waited for Draco’s reply.



“And just what is your story, Harry? Why did you react that way at the chapel?” Draco sat up then and looked at him curiously. “I mean, obviously you wanted to get out of bonding with Ginny….” Draco was looking at him expectantly.



Oh, God, it’s you. It’s you, and only you I want to be bonded to.



Harry sat up as well and looked around for his clothes. They were strewn around the room. Hopping off the bed, he plucked his robe from the hook on the back of the door and threw it on quickly before opening the wardrobe. Rummaging inside, he pulled out another robe and tossed it to Draco.



“Here. It’s rather chilly….”



“You still haven’t answered my question.” Draco pulled on the robe but remained looking at Harry, his eyebrows raised.



Harry’s face flushed as he moved to sit back on the bed. “Well, it’s complicated. I just kind of fell into a routine of people telling me what to do. Then all of a sudden, you drop in and I have a chance to do something for myself, for once.”



“Bonding to me was doing something for yourself.” It was a statement, not a question. Draco smirked at him, eyebrows still raised, this time in disbelief.



“Well, erm…” Harry was starting to sweat. “It was more the not bonding to Ginny. I know it was impulsive but since we were accidentally bonded anyway, I suppose I just took advantage of the opportunity to make it look real.” Bloody hell, if he didn’t watch himself, he’d give the whole shebang away. Time to regroup.



Jumping up off the bed, Harry rubbed his hands over his arms and shivered. “It’s freezing in here. Why don’t I go make us some dinner while you have a shower and I’ll get the place warmed up?”



Draco blinked at the sudden change of subject, but nodded in response. “Sounds good to me, seeing as we missed out on the reception. I’m starved.”



------------------------





Looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Draco grinned. He would have called it a smirk himself, if you’d asked—grins are so plebeian, more suited to a Weasley than a Malfoy—but, in actual fact, the kind of smile that appeared on Draco’s face at that moment couldn’t really be called anything but a full-on, split-your-face grin. Indeed, “goofy” would go a long way in describing just how big and fluffy that smile was. Tiny woodland birds fluttered and twittered around in glee and little pink fairies rained sparkles down on that grin, it was so adorable.



He was bonded to Harry for life and Harry wanted him to stay! Harry wanted him! Against all odds, he, Draco Malfoy, would be staying with—living with, in pure, unadulterated marital bliss—Harry Potter. Well, for the foreseeable future, anyway. And much longer than that, if Draco had his way.



Draco preened himself in front of the mirror, silently congratulating himself on his skills in the bedroom. For he was certain that was what had sealed the deal, so to speak—not only the bond, though that, of course, was definitely sealed for life. Which in itself was enough to create that grin—er, smirk. But the fact that Harry had obviously enjoyed his first gay sexual encounter, and that Draco had been the one to give it to him. Well, he just knew he had Harry in the palm of his hand. He could tell by the look on the other man’s face—pure lust, it had been. Lust for Draco. Oh, yes, he was sure he could keep Harry well-entertained and begging for more for as long as it took. If Harry wasn’t his by the end of the week, he declared to himself, he would hang up his hat as Shag Queen—er, King—forever.



The shower felt good against his skin and he stood under it, letting the warm water trickle down over his body, for what seemed like hours. He washed himself thoroughly, surprised that Harry had such a high-end range of bath products. For a blokey bloke, Harry was turning out to be rather more gay than he’d originally expected. Perhaps the man was in denial, he pondered. Well, that gave him all the more reason to execute his plan! Smiling to himself, he quickly dried off and combed his hair, before pulling on the soft terry robe Harry had lent him. He padded out to the kitchen, drawn by a delicious aroma.



Harry was standing at the stove, his back to Draco, and Draco lost no opportunity in sidling up behind him. Snaking his arms around Harry’s waist, he leaned in and kissed Harry’s gorgeously tanned neck, before leaning his chin on Harry’s shoulder.



“What’s that you’re cooking? Smells divine.”



Harry grinned at him as he stirred a pot of sauce. “Eventually, it’s going to be Chicken Parmagiana. This is the sauce. I hope you like garlic.”



Draco loved garlic. And he loved that Harry was cooking garlic for him. Though he’d have to do a minty breath charm after, since he didn’t have any wizard mints with him. It wouldn’t do for one to be reeking of garlic, especially when one was planning to shag the daylights out of one Harry Potter again sometime soon. “I suppose it’ll do,” he replied. Harry set the spoon on the bench then, and turned to Draco, pulling him close.



Oh! Harry latched his lips onto Draco’s throat in a way that made his very veins sizzle and hum. And the tune they were humming was no syrupy Disney classic, let me tell you. Oh, no, there were no princesses or woodland creatures anywhere in the vicinity; this was Last Tango in Paris all the way, baby. All the way. Draco dropped his head back as Harry’s tongue lapped down his throat, sending a wave of white-hot desire directly to his groin. Oooooh! Give it to me, baby! God. Last Tango in Paris, be damned, he thought. This had Hot Studs written all over it.



Flash!



Draco’s arm flew up as a bright light exploded before his eyes. Harry swivelled around quickly and threw his own arm up as bulbs flashed at them through the kitchen window.



“What the fuck?” Harry marched over to the window, where at least six reporters were jostling with photographers to get a look at them, and roughly pulled the blind down. “Bloody paparazzi!” he growled as he pulled Draco back to him and kissed him forcefully. Draco hoped his hair looked good and wished he had on his own black silk robe. The colour was so much more flattering than the baby blue one Harry had lent him. Photographs could be so unflattering!



“Come on, Harry! Let us in! Give us a story!” There was a pounding on the front door and Harry pulled away again and frowned.



“Why won’t they ever leave me alone!”



“Poor Harry, they must drive you mental,” Draco purred as he stroked Harry’s furrowed brow. At least he had showered and he still had that fresh post-shagged glow to his face. He wondered if he had time to transform his formal robes into something more casual before the reporters broke in. He looked positively fuck-able in jeans and a preppy button-up shirt, even if he did say so himself.



Harry strode into the living room and, retrieving his wand from the coffee table, threw several strong Locking Spells at the door and windows. He followed those with a Silencing Spell before huffing back into the kitchen and turning off the stove.



“Bloody sauce is ruined!” he grumbled, turning to Draco. “Sorry, love. Looks like we’ll have to order in.”



Sorry, love. Draco’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Sorry, love…. Oh, there were the bunnies again—and the woodland birds…. Harry reached behind Draco’s neck and, pulling him close, kissed the very tip of his nose. Oh, and there were the fairies! Draco was completely lost in that small gesture, and fell into Harry’s arms, snuggling close as Harry rained kisses all over his face.



“I really am sorry for all this.” Harry looked at him worriedly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave.” His emerald eyes—no, they were more absinthe—gazed into Draco with apprehension.



Draco’s heart melted completely and he stroked Harry’s back reassuringly. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go to my place? The paparazzi will never get past the Manor wards.” He cocked his head to one side and put on his most sincere look, not even slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to be in the papers after all. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to have Harry safely ensconced in his own private suite, where he belonged. By the time Draco was finished with him, Harry would never want to leave.



“Are—are you sure?” Harry frowned, but sounded hopeful. “What about your parents?”



“They’re in Europe for another month. We’ll have the place all to ourselves,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips, longing fervently for Harry to say yes.



“Well, if you’re sure?” Harry responded, pulling back to look in his eyes once more. The fairies jumped in glee and punched the air. Yes!



“Of course. Let’s go pack a bag and get out of here.” Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him toward the bedroom. After waving his wand to make his cooking efforts disappear, Harry followed him into the bedroom and made short work of packing a bag.



“I haven’t showered,” Harry looked down at himself and wrinkled his nose. “Tergio! Ouch!” He grimaced as his body and hair suddenly became squeaky clean. “I hate using that spell.” Slipping into clean jeans and a sweater, he pulled some casual leather shoes out of the closet and sat on the bed to put them on, watching Draco dress out of the corner of his eye.



Of course Draco didn’t miss that. He made sure he was facing Harry as he slowly pulled on his dress trousers and silk shirt, making a show of doing up the buttons slowly, one by one. Harry was staring at him with his mouth slightly open by the time Draco looked up properly, and he grinned inwardly—it was the goofy grin, with interest, and Draco didn’t even care. Oh, Harry was so his!



“Ready?” he asked as Harry walked over to pick up his bag.



“You bet. Let’s get out of here,” he replied. Draco put his arm around Harry’s waist and Apparated them to the Manor.



Within moments, they had arrived in a large marble foyer lined with portraits and sporting an enormous chandelier, which hung from the centre of the magnificently ornate, pressed metal ceiling.



“Wow!” Harry looked around, impressed, and Draco swelled with pride.



“Let’s get you settled, shall we? Then we can eat.” Draco took Harry’s bag from him and dropped it on the floor.



“Naesy!” he called and a little house elf appeared with a pop.



“Yes, Master Draco?” She bowed low, the little pink ruffled tea-towel she was wearing rustling crisply.



“Please take Mister Potter’s things up to my suite and then prepare us some dinner.”



“Oh yes, Master Draco. Naesy is always happy to do anything for Master Draco!” She picked up Harry’s bag and disappeared with a pop.



Draco pulled Harry towards him then, circling his arms around Harry’s waist. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”



Harry leaned forward and sucked lightly on the pulse of Draco’s throat. “I believe we were here,” he replied between kisses up Draco’s neck, stopping to nibble his earlobe.



Draco arched into Harry and groaned as Harry’s mouth moved to lick the shell of his ear, before probing inside, and Draco’s knees nearly buckled as a spike of pure lust ripped through him. He pulled the other man closer, wanting to feel every part of him, wanting to breathe in the spicy scent that was uniquely Harry. The feel of their bodies flush against each other was something Draco couldn’t even describe, but it felt so good.



Grabbing a chunk of Harry’s hair he brutally pulled the other man’s mouth to his own, bruising his lips as they crushed against his. Harry responded in kind, sucking on Draco’s tongue and running his hands under Draco’s robes, feeling for the waist of his pants, where he proceeded to rip the silk shirt out in search of bare skin. The touch of Harry fingers against his skin lit up every nerve ending and Draco felt himself break into goose bumps at the touch.



When Harry’s fingers moved around to Draco’s bare back, he shivered and pulled him even closer, pressing his hardness against the corresponding bulge in Harry’s jeans. Slowly, they moved against each other, the gentle friction so delicious, even between all the layers of fabric. Harry ran his hands down Draco’s back, barely grazing the skin, before reaching to cup the firm mounds of his arse.



Oh, God! He couldn’t stand another minute. He had to have Harry right here. Sliding his hands up under Harry’s sweater he massaged the firm skin of his chest and stomach until Harry’s muscles clenched in response and he groaned loudly. Draco made quick work of getting the sweater off before moving a hand down to cup Harry’s erection through his jeans. He rubbed the area gently before deftly moved his hands to the waistband and unbuttoning the fly. Harry was as hard as a rock and Draco pressed into him again as he continued to plunder Harry’s mouth greedily.



But it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Pulling away, he looked into those deep green eyes, and then dropped to his knees to nuzzle Harry through his boxers. Harry groaned again and thrust against him as Draco mouthed his hardness through the fabric. This was more than he’d ever wanted, he thought. Harry, right here, like this. He gently nipped up and down the fabric, moving his hands up to grasp Harry by the waist.



Slipping his hands down to the waistband of Harry’s boxers, he dipped his fingers under and pulled the elastic down, dragging both boxers and jeans down until they pooled around Harry’s ankles. He marvelled at the perfection before him and softly blew against the head, lightly running his fingers up and down the shaft in a teasing touch, until Harry moaned in need.



“God! Please…” Draco smiled but didn’t disappoint him, moving forward to gently lick up the length before taking the head into his mouth and sucking softly.



“Oh, Draco… That’s… Oooooh…”



Draco worked the base of Harry’s cock with his hand while he alternated between sucking and licking his tongue over the head, lapping up the white liquid that oozed out. Harry began thrusting into Draco’s mouth and Draco put his hands on his hips to restrain him. He wanted this to last. He wanted Harry to come so hard he would see stars.



Moving his hands around to the backs of Harry’s thighs he gently massaged the sensitive skin until the soft hairs stood on end and Harry began to thrust faster into his mouth. Draco pulled back slightly then and slowed the pace, moving his hand to massage the base, twisting and rubbing until Harry was almost beside himself.



“Please… please….”



Draco finally took pity on the man and, taking as much of his cock into his mouth as he could, sucked hard. His cheeks hollowed out with the effort as he took more in, as much as he could before his throat closed up. Harry’s hands were in his hair and he was moaning, his legs quivering and his head thrown back as the tension built up.



Draco cupped Harry’s sac with his other hand and when he felt the tightening he sucked down on Harry as hard as he could and Harry cried out as he exploded in Draco’s mouth. Oh, but he tasted like the nectar of the gods! Draco hungrily swallowed every last drop. After several long moments, he eventually pulled back and looked up.



Harry was gazing down at him, his eyes half-lidded. Reaching down, he pulled Draco to his feet and kissed him gently on the mouth, his hands lightly stroking Draco’s back through the fabric of his shirt.



“Fuck, that was amazing.” Harry whispered against Draco’s lips.



“Would Master Draco like his dinner now, sir?” They jumped apart in shock and Draco turned to find the little elf bobbing up and down in front of him.



“Naesy! How long have you been standing there!” Draco flushed in mortification. How bloody embarrassing!



“Naesy has been here for a long time, Master Draco.” She smiled at him sweetly and nodded, her head bobbing up and down in time with the rest of her. “Naesy didn’t want to disturb Master Draco. But Naesy is covering her eyes…” She coughed then and looked down at the floor. “…mostly.”