Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later	By : TheMightyFlynn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58416 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to that series; they are JK Rowling's. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-19 Years and 5 Minutes Later
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-Ch. 36
- 37-Ch. 37
- 38-Ch. 38
- 39-Ch. 39
- 40-Ch. 40
- 41-Ch. 41
- 42-Ch. 42
- 43-Ch. 43
- 44-Ch. 44
- 45-Ch. 45
- 46-Ch. 46
- 47-Ch. 47
- 48-Ch. 48
- 49-Ch. 49
- 50-Ch. 50
- 51-Epilogue
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: So, I was only one day late this time. At least it's an improvement :) If anyone wants to see me attempt something in this story, feel free to leave a suggestion!

Lying face down on his work desk with an aching arse and a deep satisfaction running through his twitching muscles, Harry only just barely managed to hold back a whine as Malfoy extracted himself from his body, disentangling their legs in the process. He had been particularly comfortable lying there with Malfoy’s weight pressing him into the hard wood of the desk, but was not going to let on just how comfortable. There was no way he was going to allow himself to give away just how much he wanted this – and how much he apparently also wanted Malfoy – just yet. The touch of a cleansing charm over him washed the sticky mess away from his sweat-slicked skin and, he hoped, from his robes as well. That wasn’t something he was willing to have to explain to his teams if someone noticed. Opening his eyes when he heard Malfoy shuffling around beside him, confusion rushed through Harry’s mind when he saw that not only was Malfoy now fully dressed, but he also looked like he was preparing to leave again without a word.
“Malfoy?”
Harry knew it was possible to still hear the lust in his rough voice, but he was beyond caring at this point. He had questions – and a need to keep himself from falling asleep – so Malfoy was going to answer them. Whether he wanted to or not. Shoving against the desk, he managed to hoist himself into his chair without having to use very many of the muscles that still ached from their rather vigorous activities. When Malfoy didn’t bother to look at him even then, Harry frowned, unsure of exactly what was going on. It wasn’t until Malfoy ran his hands through his hair and glanced towards the door that Harry realised that he really was just going to leave again. Wham, bam, thank you Harry. Well, no; I’m not hearing a thank you.
“Malfoy?”
Harry tucked himself back into his trousers gingerly and straightened his robes, watching Malfoy the entire time. He knew that he was not the best at reading other people, but he also knew he had seen something more than straight up lust on Malfoy’s face and that it had happened at least once before. Receiving the exact same look from the same man in the same situation had to mean that there was something going on beyond what was on the surface; even Harry could figure that much out. He had had the sneaking suspicion that this might be more to Malfoy than simple sex – was anything ever simple between the two of them? – but he had had no way of telling. The fact that Malfoy had tracked him down at work again the day after their last encounter had to mean something, right? Hell, he had even taken to guiding Harry into positions that seemed to please him; people didn’t do that unless they were expecting to be in the same position later, did they? Biting back a growl of frustration, Harry shot Malfoy a glare when he moved towards the door.
“Draco!” Harry grabbed his wand and cast a strong locking charm on the door – one only taught to field Aurors – preventing it from being opened without a complicated series of wand movements.
Harry’s use of Malfoy’s first name seemed to grab his attention, as he froze with his hand hovering above the handle of the door. Harry knew he had to have realised that the door wouldn’t open, not unless Harry wanted it to, but he did not move away from it. He didn’t even turn to Harry when he spoke, low and with a weariness Harry had not expected.
“Let me leave.”
“No.” Harry finished straightening his robes – why did Aurors have to wear bloody robes? – and moved out into the centre of the room, arms crossed across his chest. “What is this?”
What Harry could see of Malfoy’s face flashed with something Harry couldn’t identify before he seemingly composed himself and let out a very un-Malfoy-like snort. “Sex, Potter, nothing more. And it won’t be continuing beyond today, so I do hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.” The biting sarcasm seemed much more in-character for Malfoy, but Harry was certain there was something more – something Hermione would have identified in a split second, no doubt – bubbling just below the surface, almost as though the sarcasm was a defence. “Now let me out.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
“‘Sex and nothing more’? That’s complete bullshit. If you wanted no-strings-attached-sex, you could’ve gone to any whorehouse you could find – magical or Muggle – and have what or whoever you wanted. You wouldn’t have come to me. Everyone in the wizarding world knows that Ginny and I have been married for 16 years and together for even longer than that,” he paused as his stomach clenched at the thought of his marriage, noticing that the sudden silence made Malfoy glance over his shoulder. He continued in a quieter voice, needing to force Malfoy to listen to him. “So it makes no sense for you to have come to me. I’ll give you that the first time was probably spontaneous, but you tracked me down twice after that. It has to mean something.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Malfoy’s voice was just as quiet as Harry’s, leading to him taking a couple of – rather painful now that he allowed himself to feel it – steps towards him. “Sometimes sex is just sex. It doesn’t always have to mean something; there doesn’t always have to be feelings behind it other than ‘I need to get laid’. And this is never happening again, so what does it matter?”
Harry sighed as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. He had never been good with emotions, much preferring to focus on the physical aspects of everything; which was probably how he had gotten himself into this situation, now he thought of it. If he had not been so focussed on the physical pleasure of being with Malfoy, then it probably would have dawned on him that it was incredibly strange for Malfoy to go to him for that kind of release. Sure, if he had had the urge to beat on someone, then Harry made sense, but sex? No, that part made no logical sense.
He knew that there was something Malfoy wasn’t saying, but he had no clue how to force him to admit whatever it was. After another few seconds of increasingly awkward silence, he made the decision to just let it go for the time being. He knew that this wouldn’t be the last time Malfoy came to him, although how, he had no idea. He took another couple of steps towards him, intending to simply lean past him and unlock the door, but Malfoy tensed, pressing his back against the door. Harry froze, unsure if Malfoy thought he was going to harm him. Automatically using his years of Auror training, Harry ran his eyes over Malfoy slowly, taking note of the tense stance, the wariness in his eyes and the clenching of his hand by his side. Was it possible Malfoy actually wanted him? Could that have been what Harry had been seeing on his face in unguarded moments? He hesitated to call it true desire, but that was what it certainly looked like. It was the caution in Malfoy’s usually carefully guarded expression that caused Harry to come to a decision. He was going to lay his cards on the table and leave the decision up to Malfoy.
“Look, I have no idea how the hell your marriage works, but mine isn’t... well... I guess it simply isn’t. If that makes sense. I went on after the War and did the right thing: I married the girl I thought I loved, like everyone expected me to. Sure, it took a while for me to get it up, but I figured that was normal for me, since I’d never been with another woman before Ginny. Everything was nice and normal and I had no expectations of her other than having the kids I wanted so very badly...” He stopped as he realised just how pathetic he sounded, but now that he was finally voicing the suspicions he had over Ginny, he found it difficult to stop. “But it wasn’t until the station last week that I realised that there was something really missing in my life. You brought back feelings and desires I’d repressed when I married Ginny; forced me to re-evaluate what it was I wanted. And what I’ve decided is that I want you.”
A brief look of pure need crossed Malfoy’s face before the iciness Harry was so used to returned full force. “You cannot honestly believe that, Potter. You don’t want me; you don’t even like me. Now, stop being so foolish and let me leave.”
Taking another step closer to Malfoy, Harry watched him carefully, trying to take note of each change in his expression. “Sometimes sex is just sex, Malfoy,” he quoted with a smirk that caused Malfoy’s top lip to curl. “Why should you care if I truly want you or not? As long as you get off, what does it matter who it’s with?”
Harry watched, fascinated, as a range of emotions flashed across Malfoy’s face before he seemingly locked them down again. Surprise, want, confusion and, finally, fear followed swiftly behind each other, one by one. It was the fear that really captured Harry’s attention. What was Malfoy afraid of? It couldn’t be Harry himself: no matter that they had spent almost as much time fighting as they had fucking; Harry had not actually threatened him enough for him to really be afraid. Anyone else who Harry had treated like he had treated Malfoy the past two times they had seen each other would probably have an excuse to be afraid, but Malfoy had never really reacted to Harry with real fear before.
“What are you afraid of?” He had not meant to ask the question, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“‘Afraid’? ‘Want’? Those are two very loaded assumptions for you to be making about me, Potter.”
Harry could tell that Malfoy was aiming for his usual cold tones, but he had just missed. Need flooded his veins again as Malfoy stepped closer, closing the gap between them. Staring up into those strange grey eyes, Harry saw everything he needed to know that he had won this round.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Malfoy.” Harry paused, waiting until Malfoy raised an incredibly pale eyebrow at him in obvious question. “You teach me what I’ll need to know about sex with a man so I can move on and never bother you with my annoying requests for sex again, and I promise that I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”
Malfoy seemed to consider the statement for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “Anything?”
“As long as it’s not illegal and won’t leave me with permanent scars.”
Harry was unsure of what he was expecting, but being kissed was definitely not high on that list. It was slow and unexpectedly sensual, with Malfoy’s hands coming up to cup Harry’s face as he slid his tongue in between Harry’s lips. Needing to be closer to Malfoy as his head began to swim, he pressed as close as he could get, running his hands over Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy was surprisingly solid, despite his thin build and Harry found himself wishing they could have started this years before, when it would have been possible for them to have a second round nearly straight away. He almost whined in objection when Malfoy pulled back.
“Lesson one, Potter: it is never acceptable for a kiss to consist mostly of saliva and teeth. Kissing is the most basic way of being able to tell if you are compatible and if I had gone off what you apparently consider a kiss, then you would have been dumped off that chair onto your arse and you never would have seen me again.”
Harry blinked his eyes open again when Malfoy paused, only to find himself captured by that same annoying look crossing Malfoy’s face again. “Mmm?”
“Brilliant response, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, recovering much faster this time. “Very articulate. Unlock the door; let me out.”
“I will see you again?”
“If I choose to, yes.”
*~*
“You.” Crash. “Fucking.” Crash. “Idiot!” Crash.
Draco smiled as smoke drifted up from the smashed potions phials he had thrown after each word. He knew he was wasting money – that he could have sold the potions rather than exercising his temper on them – but he simply could not believe that he had been so incredibly stupid as to allow himself to be suckered in by Potter. He had known beforehand that he had a weakness when it came to Potter, but apparently the sensible part of his mind had taken leave the second the bastard had landed in his lap.
“Teach me, Malfoy,” he mocked, his top lip curling in disgust at the memory of the emotions that had run through him when Potter had voiced his ‘deal’. “Show me what I need to know... I want you.”
Draco’s elbows cracked down on the worktable in front of him and his head landed in his hands as the disgust at his own weakness threatened to overwhelm him. He should have been stronger, he should have stopped Potter the second he had tried to get closer, he should... Not have developed feelings for a man who can never truly want you in the way you have wanted him since school.
“Draco?” He jumped at the sound of Astoria’s voice as she descended the stairs to his basement workplace. “What in the name of Merlin have you been up to?”
“Nothing.” He waved his wand at the mess, cleaning it with a thought and turned to face his wife, determined to not allow what he had been going through to show on his face.
“Don’t lie to me.”
He watched as she entered the room, her eyes flicking over to the corner that still smoked a little from the mix of potions. Despite the fact that their marriage was one of convenience only, they had become fast friends over the years and she was one of the only people who could read Draco at will. The look she was shooting him tended to make even Draco’s walls crumble, but this time, he was determined that no one should know of this weakness: it left him too vulnerable.
“It’s not a lie: I’m not doing anything.”
“Draco,” she sighed, the look turning to sympathy in the blink of an eye. “Look, I know that we’ve never had the kind of intimacy a real couple share, but I’d like to think that you trust me. You know that whatever this is, you can vent to me without having to worry about me running to the press the second I leave the house. That would be detrimental to me as well as you.”
Her words dragged a reluctant smile out of him: Astoria had learnt over the years that one of the ways to almost guarantee a reaction out of him was to appeal to his sense of self-preservation. “I... Gods, I think I’m in a bit of trouble.”
“Trouble?” She Summoned a pair of chairs from the back of the room, indicating to him to take a seat. “What kind of trouble?”
He sighed as he took the offered seat. “That man from the platform?”
“The one you were so smug about having scored?”
“I’ve been with him twice since then.”
“Twice? That’s, what? Three times in about a week?” Astoria sat back in her chair with a small smile.
“Glad you find this so amusing.” Draco couldn’t help the sarcasm that escaped him as he watched her.
“Do you like him?”
“‘Like’? No; he’s a complete prick.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Wait... We couldn’t actually be talking love here, could we?” Her smile widened as Draco turned from her, a sneer on his lips.
“Of course not; I’m not that stupid.”
“You can’t expect to control who you fall for, Draco.”
“I haven’t fallen for anything.” Guilt at properly lying to her flashed through his chest as he turned back to glare at her.
“Sure you haven’t,” she murmured as she stood to place a kiss on his forehead, a gesture she had adopted after having Scorpius. “Be sure to let me know when you come out of denial so I can approve him.”
Watching as she made her way back to the stairs leading up to the house proper, Draco closed his eyes, fighting back a smile. If he had been straight, then there was no way she would have stood a chance.
“You weren’t much help,” he called after her retreating form.
“Yes I was; you just can’t recognise it yet.”
- 4
- 5
- 6
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19 Years and 5 Minutes Later