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Broken Dreams	By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3557 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Raincoast. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
~***~

He's hard again, his cock fitted into a snug and warm hole. He thrusts his hips forward, relishing the warmth and the safety he feels. He feels so perfectly at peace and comfortable that when he opens his eyes, Draco nearly starts.

He's thrusting his cock between Potter's thighs and Potter is waking as well, his body going rigid.

"Shit," Draco says, starting to pull back, but Potter's hand stills him, resting on his hip and holding him where he is. Draco looks up to Potter's face, which is turned towards him, his lips look swollen and flushed, but he's wearing a small smile. "Is this all right?" Draco asks, giving his hips a tentative roll, pushing his cock between Potter's legs again, feeling his soft balls grow tight as Draco's cock grazes them.

Potter nods. "Yeah. I like it," Potter says. He's staring at Draco, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing.

Draco gets him to stop by kissing him. It's awkward, the way their bodies are contorted, but Potter's morning breath, laced with the remnants of whiskey huffs against his lips, and Draco's cock throbs even more.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asks, pressing kisses along the base of Potter's hairline following the line of his jaw. Potter's unshaven chin is prickly, but the stubble burns Draco is likely to suffer are totally worth it to see Potter fall apart so thoroughly.

"I want you," Potter gasps, his neck arching back. He pulls Draco's hand over his front and puts it on his cock. It's hot and straining and Draco whimpers against his will. He's still dragging his cock in and out between Potter's thighs, Potter's hair making him chafe slightly, but when Potter tightens his muscles, the squeeze is so good, the discomfort is inconsequential.

"I need lube," Draco says, his voice low and deeper than he's used to. He kisses the place behind Potter's ear.

Potter pulls a wand out from beneath his pillow and hands it to Draco. It isn't Potter's usual wand; this one is different, feels different, yet not unfamiliar in Draco's hand, like a long lost-friend. It's not his hawthorn wand; that was confiscated after the war by the Ministry to be studied by Unspeakables and placed in some sort of museum they are erecting as a war memorial, but it doesn't really matter.

He whispers the spell and his hand fills with the slippery lube that he needs to put his cock at ease. He slicks himself with it, loving the smooth new glide as he thrusts.

"Put some in me too," Potter says, his voice little more than a whisper.

Draco swallows hard. He casts the wand aside, and moves his lube-slicked hand down Potter's cleft, finding his pucker. He taps at it with the pad of a finger and Potter relaxes his backside. Draco slips out from between Potter's legs, entirely entranced with Potter's arsehole. He spreads the lube all over the perimeter of the rim, finally dipping his middle finger in the centre. Hearing the hiss come from above. Only the hiss doesn't stop there. Draco's finger slips in and out and in deeper all the while Potter hisses and spits and Draco's cock grows harder and heavier between his legs.

Potter is charming his cock with Parseltongue! Draco pushes his finger in as far as it will go, crooking it up and to the side, seeking Potter's prostate, finding it, pressing that hidden button inside him which makes Potter cry out loud.

"Fuck! Fuck, yes!" followed by a stream of hissing and spitting. Draco is certain Potter is cursing and loving every second. Draco remembers how intense the sensations had been when Blaise had first introduced him to his prostate.

Potter pushes the thoughts of Blaise right out of Draco's mind however, bucking his hips back on Draco's hand. "I want more."

Draco is gone. He adds a second finger and plunges them inside Potter, looking up at Potter's face, turned towards the ceiling. His eyes are closed and his mouth open. He's breathing in blissed-out huffs and Draco is certain he's never seen a sexier sight in his life.

"Fuck. Do you even know how sexy you look, Potter?" he says, not able to keep the words in any longer.

Potter's eyes open, and his mouth twitches in a small smile. He looks down at Draco, not moving his head. "Add another one. Feels so good."

Draco's breath hitches and he rushes to comply, now fucking Potter with his middle three fingers, speared together. And Potter's arse feels brilliant, especially as Potter turns his body onto his front, pulling Draco's hand along with it and forcing Draco to scramble into a new position, straddling the backs of Potter's thighs.

Draco likes this position. He can angle his cock between Potter's thighs, and fuck his legs even as he's filling Potter's arse with his fingers.

"More!" Potter grunts, demanding little shit that he is, but Draco thinks he can forgive him this time. He pulls back and works in his little finger along with the others, cramping his hand a bit, but impressed by how well Potter takes to the additional digit. Potter is made for sex. It's about time he got some and, luckily for him, Draco is more than willing to oblige in that department.

Potter's back arches as Potter pushes back on Draco's fingers. It's like he's trying to take the whole of Draco's hand, but there's no way Draco is going that far. At least not today. Not until they've worked up to that point of trust. And fuck it! Draco's mind has spun out of control again. He's already planning a future with Potter. A future involving working up to fisting. This is not what Draco had planned at all, but when Potter pushes back hard again and groans "More!" Draco knows he's fucked.

"I can't do more than that, Potter. I don't have any fingers left."

"Use your fucking cock, Malfoy!" Potter says, moaning again. "Fill me up and fuck me good."

Draco's mouth goes dry. He's never topped before, not that he hasn't wanted to. It's just that he's only ever been with Blaise in the past, and Blaise had made it clear that his arsehole was an exit-only zone.

He pulls his hand free and nearly comes when Potter reaches his hands behind himself, and spreads his own cheeks, rising up on his knees, chest and face still pressed flat against the mattress.

The room is dark, but the early morning light filters through the unshaded window, making everything glow in shades of blue, and Potter's arse spread open and begging is a sight to behold. He rises up on his own knees, dragging his cock up and down the cleft of Potter's arse, feeling the rim flutter as his head passes it; Draco is certain he could come just doing this.

"Put it in me," Potter murmurs from above, his voice muffled by the mattress.

Draco pushes in, just the head at first, and the pressure squeezing him is so intense, he's afraid Potter's arse is going to pop his head right off. He steadies himself, guiding his way with his hand and presses forwards another inch. "Fuck … Potter! You're so damn tight!"

Potter's voice whines a response. He's begging. It sends a thrill of power through Draco, and then Potter takes control again, pressing his hips back and impaling himself all the way on Draco's cock. He's walking up on his hands, pushing himself upright, knees sinking into the mattress, until he's pressed his back up to Draco's chest and Draco can barely think to breathe, the intensity of the grip around his cock is so strong. But Potter isn't keen to wait. He begins lifting himself with his thighs, Draco's hands holding onto the powerful muscles, lifting and sinking, fucking himself. He exposes his throat, head falling back on Draco's shoulder, and his mouth is wide open, huffing breaths of pure pleasure.

Draco's mouth finds Potter's jaw before he realises what he's doing and he's pressing kisses there, finally getting his bearings and meeting Potter's rocking with thrusts of his own. He slides his hands up Potter's sides, wrapping his chest in a loose bear hug, not constricting Potter's movements, but giving him stability. "So good … beautiful … fucking perfect…" he murmurs nonsensically between kisses, not able to not love what's growing between them.

Potter too, seems to relax into his embrace, accepting Draco's increase in speed, meeting his pace readily and eagerly. The scent of sex is thick in Draco's nose. Potter's musk has got to be the fucking sexiest scent in the world. If he could bottle it, he'd make a fortune, but he wouldn't want to. He wants to keep this all to himself. The idea of Potter being with another person makes his blood pound furiously through his veins, and he feels the burn beneath his skin spreading outwards, to touch even his finger tips.

"I want … kiss you," Potter gasps, "face-to-face."

Draco stills his hips, panting, trying hard to hold his orgasm at bay, even as Potter's tight-as-fuck hole tries to milk it out of him.

Relaxing his hold, he releases Potter, falling back on his knees, his cock standing straight and hard as a rock, red from the increased blood flow and the overstimulation of being squeezed into a too-tight channel.

Potter rolls onto his back, spreading his legs, knees bent and everything exposed.

Draco squeezes the base of his own erection at the sight of Potter's purpling cock. It's huge; the veins in the underside bulge and Draco swears that even in the low light of the morning he can see the blood pumping in them.

He positions himself, watching Potter's face. Potter's nodding, encouraging, spreading his legs wider. "Fuck me, Draco."

Draco has to close his eyes a moment, to just savour hearing those words, his name on Potter's lips. He opens them again, fixing Potter with a hunger he's never known.

Potter lifts his legs as Draco presses inside, gasping again at the tightness and accepting the added weight of Potter's calves on his arms. He thrusts forwards, unable to do anything else. He's so close already, but Potter reaches up, legs moving again, pulling Draco's arms down, lifting his head, his stomach muscles contracting. "Kiss me."

Draco closes the distance, meeting Potter's mouth, and he finds bliss there. They sink into an easy rhythm, fucking as if they'd choreographed it, lips touching, tongues teasing and then sucking and latching on, not willing to let go. Draco's thrusts are erratic and slow, but they're definitely hitting the right spot as Potter gasps with each forward thrust. Draco realises, when Potter's hands are in his hair, massaging his scalp, that what they are doing goes far beyond a casual fuck. They are making love. It's absolutely the most brilliant feeling Draco has ever experienced, and upon realising it, his heart gives a happy jump inside his chest, flooding his entire nervous system with giddiness.

He smiles into Potter's kisses and he can feel Potter smiling too. He rocks into Potter, switching his angle to match the sounds Potter makes, trying to get him to make more of them, and then his orgasm spills over him. It catches him by surprise, making him feel as if he's had the breath knocked out of him to the point that there are actual stars flashing silver before his eyes.

Potter's body stills beneath him, accepting his orgasm, craving it, welcoming it and in doing so, accepting and welcoming Draco himself. Draco crashes down afterwards, reeling from the tide that's pulled him under. His cock slips out and he can feel his own hot come dribbling out of Potter's hole and onto his thighs. Potter's still kissing him, however, and Draco returns the kiss once his head has cleared enough to understand where he is. Potter's arms hold his back, stroking his spine, and Potter seems entirely unaffected by Draco's dead weight on his body.

Draco feels Potter's heart pounding beneath his own, slowing and matching Draco's heartbeat. He feels perfectly content and even cherished. It's an odd feeling, but not one he would trade for anything in the world.

Potter shifts beneath him and Draco feels Potter's still-hard cock poke him in the stomach. He lifts his head. "Oh, you haven't come yet. Want me to suck you off?"

Potter makes a face that suggests the very idea of cocksucking is not appealing, but he doesn't allow much time for Draco to dwell on his strange aversions. "Budge up. I want to do it this way."

Draco moves his hips up Potter's stomach, allowing Potter room to breathe by holding himself up on trembling arms. "Oh!" he gasps as Potter's fingers are forcing their way into his body. He wonders briefly where Potter got the lube, and then his face flushes red when he realises Potter is using Draco's own come from his arse to loosen Draco up. "That's good," Draco says, hardly able to hold his head up from the stimulation of Potter deliberately pressing his prostate.

He's still a bit loose from the fucking they'd done a few hours previously. Potter guides his cock upwards with one hand, his fingers slipping out and gripping Draco's hip, slapping it to get Draco's attention.

Draco takes the hint and moves back, allowing Potter to breach him. He sinks back on Potter's cock, amazed once more at the stretch he feels. Potter is thick, and then Potter has moved his hands to Draco's shoulders and pulls him down into another heated kiss. Draco kisses back, losing himself in the sweet velvet heat of tongue-on-tongue, and then Potter begins to fuck him in earnest, and it's all Draco can do to stay present.

"Oh fuck! Fucking fuck me, Harry!" Draco chants, unable to keep his thoughts from coming out of his mouth. "Fuck me hard and fill me full of your come. I want your come inside me so deep it will stay there for days."

Potter's hips stutter and speed up.

"Christ, Draco your mouth," Potter says, but Draco shuts him up by sticking his tongue down Potter's throat.

Draco's cresting again; how, he's not sure, but the angle is just right, and the way Potter's breathing hitches and his jaw slackens as his hips fuck Draco's arse in a frenzy means that Draco is coming again. He feels his cock spurt half-heartedly, trapped between their sweat-slicked bodies. He pulls his face back to watch Potter come. Potter's eyes are vibrant green and open wide, a look of pure amazement filling them as they focus on Draco's face, until he squeezes them shut tight, arching his neck and crying out. Draco swears he can feel Potter's come fill him from the inside. It takes Potter ages to finish, and Draco is spent.

Hours later, or perhaps it's only moments, Draco rolls off Potter's body and drapes himself along Potter's side, using his shoulder as a pillow.

"So good," Draco whispers, feeling Potter groping the blankets around Draco. Potter cleans them with a spell after locating his wand, and then slips it back under his pillow.

The sun shines through the window now, filling the room with the brightness of early morning, but Draco is too exhausted to let it keep him from succumbing to the pull of sleep. As he drifts off, he thinks he may have said something stupid.

~***~

He's standing in an unused classroom. It's the middle of the night, but the temptation to see his parents again is too strong to resist. A large ornate and gilded mirror stands in the corner of the room, beckoning him with a draw like a magnet, and his heart skips a beat as the thrill of anticipation rushes under his skin.

He stands before the mirror, his eyes closed, praying that they will still be there when he opens them again. And then he does, at first just a crack, but at the slight glimpse of the smiling woman with long red hair, he opens them the rest of the way and grins broadly.

Draco stares forwards through Potter's eyes. The scene in the mirror before him is eleven-year-old Potter surrounded by family, staring back at him from the reflection, a look of total contentment on his face.

The real Potter reaches out and traces his reflection's smile, his other hand tracing his own lips in wonderment. He's not smiling. He's never smiled like that before.

The woman, his mother, puts her hand on his reflection's shoulder and gazes into the real Potter's eyes, her eyes are a perfect match. Potter swallows, and Draco can feel Potter's longing for what he's seeing.

"Mum," Potter murmurs, moving his hand to touch the cool glass surface reflecting her face. "I came back like I promised."

She nods, looking at him as if she's waiting for him to continue a conversation they'd been having.

"So, um… Christmas is almost over. Everybody will be coming back to school again." Potter pauses. "And he'll be back too," he swallows. "The one I told you about before, remember?"

She nods again.

"I'm just wondering. I mean, ever since I found you, I realise that I don't blame you for dying. I know you didn't do it on purpose, that if you had been able to keep all the bad stuff from happening to me at the Dursleys', you would have."

Her eyes narrow slightly, forehead creasing in concern, but she waits for him to go on.

"I mean. It's the same with him, isn't it? Shouldn't I try to make things right and start over, like I'm doing with you? Maybe he won't act like such a pillock if I make an effort to understand why he does the things he does. Do you … do you think that's a good idea?"

Her face smoothes out again, her smile bringing life and joy to her expression. She smiles in agreement, giving Potter's reflection's shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"And you know what I said before, about the way I've been thinking? How I want to just be able to be who I am deep down and not worry about people like the Dursleys or anybody else blaming me anymore? Do you think that's what I should do? Do you accept me as I am?"

Draco feels Potter's heart soar with relief when she smiles widely. Potter's father steps in behind her and ruffles the hair on the top of Potter's reflection's head. He gives Potter a wink and a smile, letting him know that he too, supports Potter.

A tear slips down Potter's cheek, though Draco knows it's anything but sad. Potter can't help but cry from the pure lifting of a huge burden.

"Back again, Harry?" the aged voice of Albus Dumbledore says from behind, making Potter, and Draco by proxy, whip around in shock.

Draco is flooded with intense remorse at the sight of Dumbledore alive. He wants Potter to look away, not to talk to him, not to earn his sympathies. Draco doesn't deserve them, he shouldn't be able to experience them through Potter's memories either. He curls his mind around himself, drawing inward and trying to force himself awake, becoming aware again as Potter is heading back to his common room under his cloak, muttering to himself. "It's all a lie. It shows neither truth nor knowledge, people have wasted away before it. Pull it together, Harry. You almost fell for it too."

Draco has no idea what Potter is talking about.
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Broken Dreams