Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Dubious Affection	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8450 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
6 o'clock sharp.

The second hand ticked, ticked, ticked, the minute hand shifted its barely noticeable clank, and Draco relaxed on his stool - the pocket watch snug against his palm with the long bronze chain tangled around his fingers.

He smiled at it. At the smooth glass surface, at the three ink black hands, at the gears that were working effortlessly and in perfect synchronized fashion inside its casing. He snapped it shut with a brush of his thumb, his sensitive touch tracing over the neatly carved lettering with an ease that spoke of old habits and long nights filled with mumbled prayers as his fingers ran and ran over its surface.

It brought back a flood of memories.

And yet they were memories shifted. Memories now seen through glasses of a different color. Not better nor worse exactly. Just different. Draco supposed time could do that, dull the ache, splatter paint over the deepest of nightmares - making them hard to make out unless you squinted and forced your mind back. Or perhaps the past had just been standing still, waiting for him to decide to move on before it could start fading...

He snorted and set the watch down on the workbench, how in the world had he become so sentimental? So...in-tune to his emotions? It was a rather infuriating development, one he wasn't all too pleased about.

But in all actuality he knew exactly why he was being so...reflective.

It was all Harry Potter's fault. Bloody typical.

The man made Draco itch and ache and want, made his mind dull and sharpen, made him want things he never thought he would. Draco had seen enough of what relationships, love, and loyalty did to people to sour him for over a dozen lifetimes. They always ended up festering with corruptions, pain, and lies. They were messy and left the people involved in pieces, sometimes literally in his experience. He had sworn not to tangle himself accordingly but Potter had a thing for ruining his plans. Something he had apparently not grown out of over the years.

He wondered if they had ever really stopped chasing each other since that first day they met. It seemed like Potter was doomed to not only stand as a pillar and symbol of his youth but for all his days.

There were worse things to be tied to he supposed.

But still, it was...worrisome, painful to acknowledge the squeeze in his heart, even more so to let it out and let himself dwell in it. He didn't know how to settle himself into the pure elation that felt like cresting on his broom with the wind in his face and his stomach plummeting with that thrill. It felt like it would surely kill him at any moment and make him finally let go and live in the same breath.

Intoxicating. Love was intoxicating and he didn't really know how to handle it. Malfoy's weren't bred for love and perhaps that was why he had always been so angry with Potter, maybe it was all part of the chasing, part of the thrill that pulled and gnawed at him.

Draco had promised himself that he wouldn't go back to the hospital after he had fled home and rather urgently relieved himself, touching himself to the memory of Potter's touch and kiss, of how his name had rolled off the other man's tongue as he was devoured like a dessert. He had been adamant that Potter would come to him and that he would take the time until then to mull over his...issue...and decide on a logical course of action.

He figured if he gave himself enough space and time that he'd come down from the high, touch his feet back to the ground, and be able to forget the silly notion that he could be ensnared by the likes of Potter.

He had even gone so far as to sit down to write out a pro's and con's list like Nott used to do for everything when his mind refused to un-jumble, slow down, and untangle itself from the delirious loop it had been sent spiraling into since Potter had pushed him down onto the bed. He had gotten as far as writing down a single word before he was suddenly in his bedroom, making himself pristine and perfectly manicured from every angle before rushing back to the hospital.

Well not, rushing, there was no running involved, he was very deliberate about that.

He tried to talk himself out of it the entire way down the hall, tried to ignore the fact that he was wearing the emerald green jumper because he remembered that Potter seemed to really like it when he wore it. It was a useless endeavor it turned out.

Potter grinned when he saw him, sitting against the pillows in his bed with an untouched breakfast on the table next to him, and reading the Prophet. "Seen this?" He had asked in lieu of a greeting, cocking an eyebrow as Draco hovered uncertain in the doorway.

He had shook his head and was then treated to the black and white image of himself backhanding Auror Giles across the face and grinning like an evil loon (who really should have been locked up ages ago according to the following article), with twitchy eyes and flaring nostrils and mysterious goggles that were no doubt used for some nefarious purpose.

Draco didn't know what he thought of the newspapers portrayal of himself but quickly decided to have the photograph framed when Potter jumped at him (only tripping once, knocking his knee on the bedside table, and flinching just a little), and proceeded to kiss him till they both couldn't breathe with Draco squished between Potter's hard body and the closed door.

He never realized what a wonderful position that was before and he wondered if it would be too much to hope that Potter would take to smashing him against walls on a regular basis.

Draco found himself smiling as the memory accosted him, it was strange, how easily they had slid into this new physical aspect of their...relationship? Whatever it was, it was brilliant, if not distracting, making sure Draco's mind was so constantly muddled he barely felt like he could ever think straight. Of course that was a tad bothersome. Draco prided himself on his quick tongued, clear minded, sufficiently aloof approach to everything.

But Potter...Potter made him flush and bite his lip (which he firmly believed should be an exclusively Potter thing) and even, Merlin help him, stutter. Malfoy's did not stutter. It was unacceptable, he didn't care that Potter seemed to like it, nor that when he let those sputtered sounds out he was treated with enthusiastic manhandling. It just added to the highly irksome reminder that Potter seemed to be especially attracted to him when he was less then collected, when he was...dirty as Potter had put it.

With a deep breath, Draco levitated the pocket watch till it was rotating gently in the air before his eyes. It caught the light, bending it in little fractures that seemed to dance before him, urging him on. Potter hadn't brought up his commissioned pocket watch since that night they went to dinner but upon returning from his second visit to the hospital - with love bites on his neck and a warm glow in his chest - he had felt compelled to do so.

But he didn't make it from scratch like he had intended. Potter didn't need something new, something shiny and bright and untouched. This was better, this was...Draco.

Fitting the goggles over his eyes, Draco fiddled with the dial until his vision morphed and he could see all the spell work entwined throughout the old timepiece. There was just one more charm to cast and it would be finished, the perfect piece to end Potter's clock smashing habits. As he spoke the incantation, his voice a breathy whisper, his magic pulsing over and through it, Draco felt his heart pick up a beat - the elegantly engraved HP winking in and out as it turned.

Over the last three days Draco had found himself playing Potter's role, finding it impossible to stay away like he had firmly decided on. He had shown up at the hospital with Potter's favorite tea, then with his favorite Indian takeaway, then with a bag of fatty treats that he knew Potter had a particular weak spot for. Strangest of all he found that the realization that he knew exactly what Potter preferred down to the fact that he hated anything made with an abundance of coconut milk (but would oddly slather peanut sauce on foods that shouldn't even touch peanut sauce) only unsettled him a little.

It was exhilarating and terrifying how much he loved the look on Potter's face each time he appeared in his doorway, loved the way he bit his lip and smiled, loved how he tousled his hair, and glanced shyly away like they hadn't just been dry humping the day before. He found himself looking forward to the hours sitting on Potter's hospital bed talking and listening to him laugh - something Potter still seemed to do in an overabundance. He was forced during these hours to admit that Potter was somewhat charming, that he was funny even, and not at all as aggravating as Draco liked to pretend he was. But most gratifying of all, he realized that Potter was rather easy to talk to, something that he had known for months now really but had refused to acknowledge.

Draco rarely found people easy to converse with and he couldn't help but become a little more enamored with the wild haired man because of it.

Great conversation aside, he also looked forward to when Potter finally had enough chatting and would knock the things between them away and kiss him. It happened different each time too, something Draco hadn't expected, he rather thought Potter would have a single tracked kind of mind and would stick to a strict method - almost as if he was reading from a manual. But he didn't.

He came at him slow one day, scooting closer until only the tips of their fingers were touching, and then with a coy smile and upwards glance through his thick dark lashes, leaned forward and kissed him gently - moving their lips together in a feather light caress that had Draco's entire body buzzing and shivering before it was over. It was the kind of kiss that shouldn't have been so arousing, that was more of a promise than anything but it turned Draco inside out anyway.

The next time he had swept the empty takeaway containers to the floor with a hungry look in his eye and threw himself on Draco, pulling the blond under his body in a kiss that had their teeth clashing and hands grabbing. It had been a hot, sweaty affair, with loosened shirts and nearly undone trousers before they had accidentally tumbled from the narrow bed and Potter hit his head on the table and they had to call the Healer to stop the bleeding.

The last time had more wall smashing. Potter waited until Draco was leaving before he pressed him into the door and kissed up his neck then down the other side - completely neglecting Draco's gasping lips until he couldn't take it any longer and he had bodily hauled Potter's mouth to his in a kiss that he may have made some rather embarrassing sounds during. Draco was unsure what he had been stuttering with Potter's hands on his hips, his fingers rough and possessive as he trapped Draco more and more with every twitch of his pelvis.

And that's how his days went, he would wake up, work on the pocket watch, visit Potter, come home and wank (because they never went that far due to the fact that the universe seemed to be conspiring against them, as clearly portrayed when the door opened just as Potter had yanked Draco's thigh up his hip and was doing some spectacular grinding, sending them tumbling backwards to the hard ground with the Healer glowering over them), and then work on the pocket watch some more. He wasn't exactly sure why he felt he needed to finish the timepiece before Potter's release or why he even needed to make it at all.

He just did.

His voice stilled as the incantation came to an end and the pulsing around the watch glowed bright before ebbing out. It was finished. Draco let it drift back to the wooden bench, clunking softly as it landed. Now all he had to do was get up the courage to actually give it to Potter. Not that the other bloke would have the slightest idea of its significance unless Draco deemed it necessary to tell him and in all reality he couldn't for the life of him decide if he actually wanted to or not.

Surely it would only swell Potter's massive ego. Or just make Draco look like a pinning fool. Or maybe a bit demented. Or maybe Potter wouldn't see it all like that...maybe he would get it. Maybe.

Draco cursed the little leap in his pulse as a knock rattled his door. He glanced at the time and forcefully wiped the smile off his face, it would not due to open the door smiling like a love sick puppy, no matter how happy he was that Potter had finally been released from the hospital (a release that really was overdue, Draco having to begrudging admit that Potter had been right, that his supervisor was keeping him there for some unknown reason). Just because he felt excited didn't mean he had to show it though, he needed to keep some cards close to his chest as it were. Rising from his seat, he reached up to discard his goggles before he remembered Potter's truly bizarre affinity for them and just shoved them onto his forehead instead.

"You know Potter, you are a Wizard, you could just use the Floo instead of trudging up all those steps." Draco smirked as he pulled the door open in one fluid motion.

"Could I then?" Potter was smiling, his gaze sweeping up and down Draco in a way he was quickly growing accustomed to. He rather liked it, liked the way Potter's gaze turned greedy as he took him in, liked the way Potter would tug his fingers through his curls if he was particularly enchanted by what Draco was wearing.

Like he was doing now and Draco had to resist a snort. So Potter hadn't been lying, he really did like Draco in rumbled shirts that had a few buttons missing (he had done that on purpose this time, just to test the theory), liked the grease on his cheek and fingers, liked his mused hair (mused but still stylish he might add), and liked the goggles on his head. He couldn't help but wonder if Potter had fantasied about fucking Draco while he was so disheveled and wearing his goggles.

Probably, the kinky bastard.

"It's not so hard surely, has no one taught you yet?" Draco quipped an eyebrow, watching with amusement as Potter's vivid gaze snapped back up to his. "Or is your speech simply to incompetent to work it properly?"

"Haha, very funny. What I meant was that I thought your Floo was typically closed except for scheduled clients?" So Potter apparently did pay attention to when Draco spoke.

Draco turned and walked into his flat, leaving the door open behind him as he did. "It is, but you might find that it will let you through." He murmured without looking back, suddenly a bit nervous as to just what that gesture meant.

"During scheduled visits?" Potter asked as he followed and Draco could hear the grin in his words.

"Yes...and whenever." Draco waved a dismissing hand in the air as he kept walking, stopping before his bench and staring down at the silent watch...Merlin, why was he so nervous all of a sudden? With a deep, steadying breath he scooped up the watch and spun back around, holding it out between them, his eyes glued to the little circle of metal in his palm. "Here." He cursed silently at himself at the abruptness of which he presented it, the ball of nerves tightening in his stomach making him feel far too jumpy.

He just needed to get it over with.

"What is it?" Potter cocked his head and let his fingers dance over Draco's, skirting shy of the watch and making Draco's skin bloom with heat - how in the world he was capable of making Draco melt just from that was highly irksome but he refused to be turned into a muddled puddle before he got this done with.

"A pocket watch, I should think that was obvious."

"Yes I can see that." Potter didn't seem even remotely fazed at Draco's snarky remark, he just kept smiling and touching. Merlin but a light touch shouldn't feel so good, let alone a simple caress on his fingers, there had to be something wrong with him. "It's beautiful." His tone dipped low in soft tones and his fingers skipped over Draco's knuckle to finally touch the smooth metal, tracing the engraved, twining Hollyhock that ran in a circle around the outer edge. "Are those my initials?"

"Yes." Draco nodded as Potter glanced up and caught his eye.

"This is for me then?" He asked, holding Draco's gaze in a look that somehow seemed more intimate than anything they'd done to each other so far.

"You didn't pick a design." Draco countered, feeling a flush on his cheeks that seemed silly and uncalled for. But he couldn't help it, he suddenly felt far too exposed. Maybe this had been a bad idea, he had no clue what he had been thinking.

"I love it but...how in the world did you have time to make this?" Potter was still holding his hand as Draco held the watch and Draco knew this was the moment, the moment to lie or tell the truth - the moment that he could either pretend or let Potter see...

"It's not...new."

"Oh? Have a lot of watches with my initials lying around do you?" Potter quipped, grinning in an amused way that Draco felt suddenly compelled to kiss away.

"No you dimwit, it's..." He trailed off, lifting his hand and letting the long chain slip through his fingers until it dangled in the air, swinging in a soft turn. "It's 15 years old." He flicked it with a quick tap and sent it spinning quickly, drawing Potter's eyes back down to it as it spun and spun. Then with a muttered spell the HP morphed and shifted and the old DM shimmered back into existence as the watch stopped in a fluid halt - held frozen before Potter's gaze with invisible fingers.

Potter's brow creased, his eyes darting up to Draco's for a split second before they resettled on the pocket watch. "It was yours?" He reached forward and drew his finger over Draco's initials, blinking once then twice like he was trying to determine if it was just a trick of the eye.

"Yes."

"Why give it to me?" Potter's voice was so very quiet, so very soft.

"It was broken for years." Draco swallowed and gathering up the last of his resolve, leaned forward and pressed his lips to Potter's in a gentle kiss. "Ten to be exact." He murmured when he broke away, breathing in Potter's scent and letting the other man's shuttering breath wash over him.

"The war?" Potter let his fist curl around the watch, pulling it closer to his chest as he shifted nearer Draco in the same moment.

"A part." Draco conceded.

"And the other part?" He brushed his lips over Draco's, making a shiver pass down his spine and a lightness enter his head.

"He...woke up." Draco smiled faintly before pulling back and turning sharply away, his chest squeezing in a way that was starting to become all too familiar. He didn't know if Potter understood, if he knew Draco was talking about his near death experience in the forest or not. But it didn't matter, Draco had let it out, he had fixed the watch, it was ticking forward again - his initials melded with Potter's in a sea of complex magic and near indestructible metal.

He didn't wait around to find out either, with a panic that he had somehow just doomed everything, he started towards the kitchen where their meal was waiting under a warming charm. He never made it through the archway though, instead there was an arm sneaking around his waist and tugging, knocking him a step backwards and against Potter's solid, warm chest. "Thank you. I...its perfect." Potter spoke into his ear and Draco had to suppress a shiver. "I have something for you too."

"Oh? And what's that?" Draco asked, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead and wondering idly if Potter was going to press him into the wall like this - face first with strong hands keeping him in place. He frowned when he realized that sounded rather...appealing.

Merlin, Potter really had turned his mind to mush, rather permanently it seemed.

But there was no wall smashing, face first or otherwise, Potter simply pressed a kiss to the curve of his neck before releasing him and spinning him around in one fluid move. Draco figured that he really should be annoyed with all the tugging and spinning and lack of wall contact but then he found Potter's dancing gaze seconds before he noticed the slip of a paper he was holding up between his thumb and index finger.

"What's this?" He asked, having a strangely hard time concentrating on the small black lettering. Stupid Potter making him all jumbled again.

"It's a note." Potter looked so very pleased with himself, like he was presenting Draco with the best possible gift on the face of the Earth instead of a note on...hospital stationary. Seriously? Draco had just given him the most important thing he owned and Potter returns the favor with a blasted note?

"Really? I could not have guessed." Draco drawled sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's a note." Potter repeated and just as Draco was about to point out that he had already said that, he continued with a sly smile. "It's the signed and sealed, well used to be sealed, note from my Healer explaining my exemplary good health and fitness."

Draco pursed his lips and stared. Just what the hell was Potter on about? Obviously he was healed, he was out of the hospital for heaven's sake. "And?"

"And," Potter slid closer, letting the paper snap out of existence, or maybe it just fluttered to the floor, Draco hardly cared which, as he was suddenly standing nearly nose to nose with a rather intense looking Potter. "It's my clean bill of health, just like you asked for." The smile he sent him was slow, curling at the edges with an unspoken promise that sent Draco's stomach twisting pleasantly.

He swallowed thickly as he remembered that first day at the hospital, how he had told Potter they'd finish what they had started when he had said note in his hand. And now he did and Draco found himself suddenly too nervous to even move, which wasn't at all like him, he really should have been throwing Potter into the wall like he was refusing to do to Draco and snogging him senseless - considering Potter just basically stated that he came to....finish with him.

Which, now that he knew what the note meant, really wasn't that horrible of a gift. Really it was quite brilliant.

"What if I want a proper date first?" He heard himself asking for some crazy reason, he didn't want to wait any longer, not with Potter leaning towards him and looking at him like that.

Potter took a step forward and Draco took a step back, much to Potter's amusement apparently. "We can do that. Where do you want to go?"

"I-I." Great he was starting to stutter. Fuck it all.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Dinner?"

"No, I have..." Draco shook his head and glanced towards his kitchen, hoping Potter would catch on to the intended meaning.

"Movie?" Potter took a cautious step.

"No - wait, a what?" What the hell was a movie?

"Drinks then?" Another step forward.

"N-no." Damn it!

Potter smirked, taking one last step and reaching out he pressed his hand into the wall directly behind Draco. "Then what do you want?" He asked, angling himself closer.

"Tea." Draco muttered, watching Potter's mouth and wondering what he had been drinking on his way over to his flat. He had to have been drinking something, his lips were too red for him not to have been sucking down a scolding beverage. Though why he was suddenly so curious was anyone's guess, his mind and body felt like they were trying to backpedal up a steep hill with a flat tire to boot.

"You want to go get a cup of tea?" Potter scrunched up his nose, tipping his head slightly. "How about-"

Draco didn't let him finish, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to stop himself, he was drawn forward with a sheer need to know. With a sound that could have been a grunt or maybe a strangled moan, he reached out and grabbed Potter's head, yanking him forward until their mouths crashed together and his tongue sneaked past those burning lips.

He definitely moaned then, the taste of chamomile strong on the other man's tongue, his back knocking into the wall as Potter pressed forward. God he loved how Potter kissed, he put all of himself into it, using every little part of his body in a way that delved straight past Draco's defenses and crumbled all his reservations.

"No." He pulled back as suddenly as he started, his hands still buried in Potter's wild hair, his cheeks pink as he belatedly answered Potter's question.

"Are you trying to be confusing?" Potter laughed, looking like he didn't care one little bit if Draco was being a tad mental.

"No." Draco ran his fingers through Potter's curls, letting one hand drop down his neck to rest around his shoulder. He wondered if it was healthy how much he loved Potter's insane hair. Probably not.

"Are you planning on saying anything else all night?" Potter traced his lips with his thumb and Draco felt very much like licking the digit as it swept past. He somehow managed to refrain. "Or are you going to just stick with 'no'?"

"All night? A bit presumptuous don't you think?" Draco smirked, snickering at the lovely blush that rose quickly up Potter's neck and over his cheeks.

"I meant - you know what I meant."

"Mhmm." Draco hummed, twisting his fingers through the raven locks once more before letting them fall to his side and nudged him backwards until he could slip free. "Come on." He instructed, regaining some of his composure as he motioned Potter to follow him into the kitchen.

"What are..." Potter stopped in the doorway, a grin playing on his lips. "You cooked?" He asked with obvious disbelief as he eyed the two plates of food laid out on the table, a bottle of wine and two empty glasses waiting patiently to be filled.

"Yes, is that really so hard to believe?" Draco grumbled with a wave of his hand that had the cork popping out of the bottle and dropping like a feather floating on the wind to the table.

"Er, yeah?" He laughed, watching from his spot leaning against the wall as Draco filled the wine glasses with the deep red liquid. "Aren't you supposed to have a house elf or a cook or something?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Does it look like I have a house elf or cook stashed anywhere? Honestly Potter, it is not so difficult to sauté vegetables and roast a chicken." He snapped, which really wasn't exactly true - it had been a near disaster until he had broken down and recruited some outside help - setting the wine bottle down a little too roughly at Potter's openly incredulous expression. "What?"

"Nothing." Potter bit his lip and sauntered towards him, running his fingers along the table until his hand covered Draco's at the base of the bottle. "It's just...you cooked, it's -"

"Watch what you say next." Draco warned, narrowing his eyes.

"Sweet, I was going to say sweet. I've barely had a proper meal all week."

"Yes, I'm aware," He gestured to the plates, "obviously. Merlin Potter what is it?" Draco was growing quickly unnerved as Potter just kept watching him with that look in his eye, his hand tightening on his, and his face hovering ever nearer. He looked very much like his mind was whirling with an array of dubious ideas.

"Will it keep?" He asked in that low, rough voice that always set Draco's nerve on fire, his free hand curling around Draco's hip.

"Yes." Draco stood stalk still. "Are you not hungry?"

"No I am, I just..." He murmured, gripping Draco's slim hip with that possessive firmness that he was quickly coming to realize Potter apparently possessed towards him. "And I need -" He stopped, capturing Draco's lips in a firm kiss that clearly said it all.

Potter had been in the hospital, under semi surveillance, not exactly an ideal environment to take care of one's needs in. And Draco had been showing up every day, trying to look as stunning as he possibly could, fooling around with him until the near breaking point, and then...leaving. It sounded rather cruel when you put it like that. No wonder Potter was positively shaking against him, his trousers already tight with a hard bulge against Draco's hip.

Well he could fix that.

He heard Potter whimper into his mouth as he slipped his hand between them and cupped his hard length, squeezing gently and rubbing his fingers around it in a teasing touch. Merlin he was hard. "What do you need?" He whispered into Potter's ear after breaking the kiss, Potter's arms winding around him in a tight embrace that felt nearly crushing.

"God Draco." He pressed his face into the pale neck before him as Draco's fingers continued their onslaught.

"Tell me." He shimmied out of his arms and dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, running his palms flat up Potter's thighs until he was cupping the other man's cock through his jeans once more. Potter bit his lip and grasped the edge of the table with a fierceness that made the wood shake - staring down at Draco with green eyes that held an alluring darkness, like the spark he had been seeing had finally ignited and exploded, no longer bridled or restrained. "Do you want me to wrap my lips around your cock?" He asked, finding the suggestion settle in his belly like a coil of hot wire. He licked his lips.

Potter moaned.

Draco could feel Potter watching him avidly as he rubbed his crotch, his own gray eyes unable to look away from the movement of his hands even if he wanted to. It was mesmerizing. Then his fingers were working Potter's fly open and dragging his jeans and boxers down to his thighs and all Potter could do was groan loudly as the cold air hit his freed prick that was bouncing in front of Draco's face. "I'll take that as a yes." Draco smirked up at him and then grabbed the pale hips before him, leaning forward he pressed his cheek against Potter's crotch, the skin silky smooth and leaving a line of pre-cum sticking to his cheekbone.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling like he might surely burst out of his skin at any moment if he waited a second longer, the knowledge that this was Potter making everything that much more intense. He opened his mouth, ran his lips over the slick tip, and sucked the length over his tongue.

"Oh god, that's - that's...” Potter never finished saying what exactly it was but judging by the tense coil of muscles holding his body taut, and the fingers gripping the back of Draco's head, and his stuttering breath, Draco figured it was safe to assume that Potter thought it was brilliant.

And Draco was inclined to agree. Potter's cock was thick and long and much bigger then he would have previously given Potter credit for. He had to stretch his mouth wide and fight his gag reflex as he bobbed his head, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked with vigor. His finger nails digging into Potter's hips, yanking him forward until Draco made a little gagging noise followed by a small, nearly silent moan.

But Potter heard it anyway, his eyes that had fluttered shut, snapped back open and stared down at Draco like he was going to devour him whole. He felt trapped, held in his gaze, with his cock filling his mouth and it was just...right.

Draco's stomach flipped and then continued to somersault as Potter's grip tightened in his hair as Draco worked his tongue and lips for only a moment longer before Potter was yanking his head backwards - his prick popping free with a loud sloppy sound as Draco gasped. "Get up." He demanded, his voice hoarse like he had been the one having a dick hitting his throat instead of the other way around.

Draco didn't comply right away, he felt frozen to the spot, unable to look away from Potter. He had never seen him looking like that, like he was going to conquer Draco and make love to him at the same time. He wasn't sure which one he wanted more, finding that the depth of his passion made his blood ignite, a little unnerved when he realized that he wanted to be conquered by Potter.

Sex had always been a dirty business to Draco, something in which he was always the one taking, the one in control.

"Why?" He asked softly, breathing deeply through his tingling, open mouth.

Potter didn't answer, instead he reached down, grabbed Draco's arm and hauled him back up until they were pressed together once more. His lips found Draco's, his hands keeping the blond steady as they wound around his back. Draco could barely process it all, it was just a jumble of senses, his mind spinning and body aching. He was vaguely aware through it all that Potter was walking him backwards but he could hardly care as he clutched at Potter's shoulders and fought with his tongue.

Then there was hard wood at the back of his thighs, then under his arse, the sound of metal tumbling to the floor as he felt hands and a chest pushing him down. But none of it really mattered as Potter just kept kissing him, devouring him, turning him into an inferno. Somewhere among it all his shirt was gone and his head was thrown back, sucking in air as Potter's lips descended down his neck and chest, his eyes blinking at the ceiling as it registered somewhere in the back of his brain that he was lying across his workbench.

He heard Potter murmuring to him, his words flowing over him, pricking his skin in goosebumps - felt Potter's tongue trace the dip of his stomach and the curve of his hip as his hands pushed Draco’s trousers and boxers down like they were made of nothing. His neck arched back as he gasped, his ears rushing, the tick of the clock looming in his sight like a shimmering mirage as Potter's mouth touched his cock. He felt fingers digging into his thighs, a warm wet tongue licking stripe after stripe, enthusiastic and reminiscent of the way Potter kissed.

He blinked at the hour hand, tried to focus on the seconds that were ticking as his hands found their way into Potter's hair, but he couldn't seem to catch it. Time was eluding him like it never had before and he felt like he was drowning without it, the break of the waves pulling him under again and again as Potter dragged him to depths he hadn't ever felt before. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed. Potter sucked and he cried out. Everything seemed to be spinning, all the air in the room refusing to fill his lungs, then Potter's lips were back on his, his body covered with Potter's equally naked one, and it didn't matter.

Time could stop for all he cared as long as Potter never did. He moved his lips and held on tight, lifting his legs as Potter's finger touched him where he never let any else go in a very long time. It slipped in and out and there was a wetness that he wasn't sure where it came from, but who cared as Potter seemed to know exactly how to coax his body into a puddle of goo.

"I want to be inside you." Potter rasped with his forehead pressed to Draco's cheek, his lips brushing his ear.

Draco may have answered or maybe just nodded, he couldn't be sure, but he could see Potter's green eyes, staring at him like he never intended to let Draco go. He tried to turn over, to comply with Potter's wishes that were strangely sitting inside him with glee instead of the trepidation that would normally accost him if any other lover would have said the same.

"No." Potter stopped him, his arms propped on either side of his Draco's head. "I want to watch you."

Then Potter was angling his hips and Draco forced his eyes to remain open and locked on Potter's as his body was slowly filled, a burning ache that made him grab at Potter's back and bite his lip accompanying it. "Good g-god." He stuttered, struggling for air. Potter kissed him, slowly, gently, distracting him with his taste and making Draco realize that he didn't really mind the burn so much, or even the pain. Because then Potter was all the way inside him, stretching him impossibly wide and filling him deliriously full and fuck...it was perfect.

Potter, it seemed, was destined to change his view on everything.

He felt his hips lift up off the table as Potter shifted and then he was moving, dragging his cock nearly all the way out before pushing back in. He knew there would be bruises on his body in the morning as Potter picked up his pace, driving into him with the table beneath him refusing to give and making sure Draco's body found no escape or respite. It was like being overtaken, Potter's mouth still commanding his, his hands grasping his sweaty body all over, pounding him open, and making Draco fall apart in his arms.

He heard himself curse and moan and cry out against Potter's lips and was treated with Potter's tongue against his each time. Then Potter shifted once more and his cock jammed deep inside and Draco cursed loudly, overwhelming pleasure cascading through him. He shook as Potter grinned and did it again and again, no longer kissing him but staring openly at his face like Draco was the most fascinating thing in the whole world.

"Like that?" He asked, his voice uneven and breaking, giving way just how much he was also affected.

Draco bit his tongue and tried to keep himself from succumbing to the waves crashing over him.

"Do you? Do you like that?" He asked again, his hips snapping forward with greater momentum. "God Draco you feel so incredible, so fucking perfect."

"Potter." He groaned, wrapping his legs around the other man's thrusting hips and pulling down on his back until he was crushed between Potter and the table - his own leaking cock trapped between them, the friction on his neglected prick nearly making him lose it. "H-harry. Yes, oh, oh!" He jerked his own hips up and down, his cock sliding between their stomachs and Potter's inside him making him feel like he was soaring somewhere among the stars.

It was too much, too intense, his back aching, his heart throbbing with Potter's unblinking gaze, and he was going to fall.

"Are you going to cum?" Potter asked, his thrusts starting to grow erratic.

Draco shut his eyes and nodded.

"Open your eyes, please, I want to see you." He moaned and when Draco did, Potter grabbed his face bringing them nearly nose to nose, mouth to mouth. "So, so breathtaking." He murmured.

There was a moment where it all seemed clear and sharp, a second before Draco felt himself cresting, and he knew that it didn't matter how messy this thing with Potter got, because there was no way he could give it up - no matter the cost, no matter the outcome. Love may have been a thing that only grew twisted with disease in his past but Potter was his future.

And Potter was light, he always had been.

Then he was gasping and arching, his muscles clenching around Potter's thick cock that felt so amazing as he came, a sticky warmth sticking them together as he twitched and screamed silently.

"Yes." Potter hissed, capturing his gaping mouth in a forceful kiss as he drove Draco into the table. Then he was seizing up, groaning long and low as his cock pulsed and he joined Draco in mindless bliss, moving in slow shallow pumps as the kiss turned slow and lazy.

As they laid there with Potter propped on his forearms, Draco's heartbeat was threatening to break his ribcage, his abused hole was starting to ache, and a laugh was bubbling up in his throat. When it came bursting out, it startled him nearly as much as it did Potter, who broke the kiss and stared down at him like he had broken him or something equally as horrifying.

"Draco?" He smiled tentatively. "Are you...okay?"

"Y-yes." Draco gasped between bursts of laughter, unsure where it was even coming from, tears pricking at his eye from the force of it. Merlin, maybe Potter had broken him. But he didn't feel broken, he felt light, and happy, and...hell he didn't know. Was it possible that someone could go mad simply from such an earth shattering orgasm? He threw his hands over his face as he tried to still the mad crackles raking through him, his fingers colliding with the goggles clinging to life haphazardly atop his head. "Merlin, I can't believe you just fucked me in these." He said, snatching them from his head and tossing them aside.

"I can, like I said, I really like you in them." Potter answered, his own little laugh starting to mingle with Draco's slowly dying ones.

"Kinky prat." Draco grumbled as he got his breathing under control, nudging Potter off him and wincing as he pushed himself up. "Why the hell are we on my workbench?" He asked, stretching his back as he watched Potter slide from the bench beside him.

Potter blushed as he reached for his jeans. "Er."

"What?" Draco probed, getting his first good eyeful of Potter's naked body. He was stunning, lean and fit and muscular in all the right places with a dark trail of curls leading down to his softening cock. He bit his lip at the memory that it had been inside him. "You don't really like my workbench to do you?"

"No." Potter shook his head which only just made him look like a wet dog with his sweaty curls bouncing back and forth. He dropped his jeans back to the floor in favor of rejoining Draco and inserted himself between his legs, his hands moving straight to his bruised hips. "Want to know a secret?" He asked with a mischievous look, toying with Draco's sensitive hipbone.

"Mhmm? Did you finally take my advice and push Giles out a window before coming over here?" He asked, his arms moving to curl around Potter's waist, his skin slick with sweat.

Potter laughed. "No but I did talk to Robarts and told him my suspicions. There's going to be an investigation." He paused and kissed him lightly. "You're so -"

"If you say cute Potter, so help me..." Draco glowered, recognizing the tone of voice and what typically proceeded it.

"Manly. You're so manly." Potter amended and Draco snorted.

"Right." He rubbed his hands along Potter's back, his skin smooth in some places and rough and puckered in others. He made a mental note to get personally antiquated with each and every one of Potter's scars and then have a serious discussion about protective gear. "So what's the secret then?"

"I've had this idea." He started slowly, the flush rising back in his cheeks. "For a few months now, about you laid across your workbench naked. Couldn't resist."

"You really are quite mad you know? There are far more comfortable places, like my bed, just there." Draco snickered, pointing a finger in the direction of his bedroom, unable to let the opportunity to tease Potter pass even though he found he quite agreed with said fantasy. "It's bouncy, more give, would have saved me some bruising."

"I didn't hear any complaining." Potter grumbled but he was biting his lip and glancing away nervously in a manner that was just much too enduring to continue.

"That's because you are a brute Potter." Draco smiled, nudging him with his thigh until he caught his eye. "A big, unrefined, brute."

"Am I?"

"Indeed."

"Mhmm, well perhaps I should make it up to you then?" He raised an eyebrow, trailing his fingers up Draco's side in a light touch that was making his stomach start that whole flipping thing it seemed to like to do around Potter.

"You have a suggestion?" Draco asked, trying to ignore the touch that was making his body stir with renewed interest.

Potter nodded. "I've heard you have a bed? Through there?" He pointed where Draco had been a moment ago. "I have yet seen proof of it but I'd be happy to be made aware of its existence."

"Would you?" Draco let his own hands drop until he was gripping Potter's waist. "Whatever for?"

"Well I was thinking that maybe...you could be the brute this time?" Potter looked up at him shyly then, his face suddenly free of the humor that filled it moments ago.

Draco's breath caught. "Potter-"

"Or maybe Harry. Cause you know...that's my name." He murmured, peaking at him through his soppy fringe, Draco's cock already half hard at the suggestion and the look on Potter's face.

Draco dragged him into a deep kiss, pulling back only when Potter appeared to be struggling to remain standing as he seemed to be shaking head from toe. "Harry...what about dinner?"

"It will keep." Harry licked his lips and smiled.

"Couldn't agree more." Draco grinned back and slipping from the bench pulled Harry towards his bedroom, kissing him all the way.

FIN

A/N: ah another fic done, always so sad and happy for me ;) Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this, it was so incredibly fun to write! As always I’d love to hear from you one last time if you enjoyed this. Thanks!

Moodysavage: Thank you so very much! Hope you enjoyed the end.

Ecstatically_yours: Thank you so much for reviewing! Haha that’s awesome, hope this last part satisfied ;)

Bitchandmoan: Yes I know, the summary sucks, I freely admit that writing those things are a pain in the ass and I can never seem to get them right – I’m very happy you gave it a shot though! I’m glad you liked the premise – playing with job ideas for Draco in particular is one of my favorite things to do as a writer for some reason. Time progression is a tricky thing so it’s so nice to hear that it works out good here for people, so thank you! I can’t wait to hear what else you have to say and hoped you liked this last part.

Severus1snape: Ahhhh thanks, hope you liked ;)

MoonlightVampiress: Hey you’re alive!!! Nice to hear from you. Yes, this story is so different from my other stuff but so so much fun to write, I’m glad you liked it – and yay I inspired a fic idea! That makes me crazily happy for some reason (which sounds rather interesting. Plus, yay an RWS update!). Hope you liked the end and yes I really like horny Harry trying to attack Draco, though this is the first time I’ve ever written a bottom Draco (something I really thought I’d never do) but I think it turned out well. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
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A Dubious Affection