Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Intangible	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-CH8
- 9-CH9
- 10-CH10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-CH19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-CH22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-Ch25
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven
Colin Jaz McVicar was the highest authority in dimensional planes, and the creatures that exist and crossed between them. Unsurprising, the odd man was one of said beings, existing in another realm simultaneously to the one everyone was currently inhabiting. He appeared to be in his late thirties, hair stark white, wavy and shoulder length against his golden skin. He wore dark framed, narrow glasses, and black lipstick, and had the odd habit of nerding out in rants of information while humming obscure muggle music.
Severus, who had just spent the last forty-five minutes with the man in his office explaining the situation, was about ready to throw him through a window. Preferably one connected to a tall tower. They were all currently standing around Snape's desk, Harry in a corner watching while Jaz tried to explain what they needed to do next.
Harry didn't exist with Jaz on any of the planes he was on, but he did not doubt that the man was within more than one. Harry could definitely see a golden glow coming off the man, especially when viewed through the fifth plane where magic and Malfoy were easily seen. Considering where the light flowed, the man probably had a tail and was much taller than his average height seen.
Harry was certain Jaz could not see Harry, but at the same time, seemed to have Draco's odd ability to know Harry was near, pointing his stare in Harry's direction when he stood close enough. Harry had walked though the man a few times, startling the both of them from the odd sensation, until Jaz had insisted he stop and started babbling about energy switching while flipping through his never ending notebook.
“Now, Mr. Malfoy, you claim you have actual physical contact with Mr. Potter through the sharing of one plane. And this has been demonstrated, along with Mr. Potter's interaction with a phoenix. Now, given that there are at least ten—not the previously thought seven planes—that phoenixes dwell in, I feel focusing on Mr. Malfoy's plane would be the fastest way to connect with Mr. Potter and then pull him back.”
“Is it that simple?” Draco asked, doubtful. “He said he ended up scattered from a huge explosion of magic, strewn across dimensions.”
Jaz nodded, riffling through notes again. “Yes... yes... but I have a suspicion that Mr. Potter has always dwelled in at least one other plane besides ours. I know for a fact Tom Riddle, the fallen Dark Lord, did, having seen the spell first hand he used to cross the dimensions. And considering how Riddle fell, and Potter didn't, suggests to me that Potter may have always been in these five planes, deeply embedded like yourself and I in our own, just never viewed from his current location... which suggests he may be something a bit different than what we first thought... but what that could be, who is to say as long as...” He looked up, meeting the confused looks with his own confusion.
“You are rambling,” Severus snapped, eyebrows knitted darkly. “Again. What must we do?”
Pushing his glasses up his nose with a practiced move, Jaz tossed his notes aside on Snape's desk. “Right. We must locate the dimension he's in. First things first. If you're correct and he's unraveling, and specifically on the plane he shares with Mr. Malfoy, than that is the most important dimension to find. Again, it is just speculation at this point, but I believe his loss of connection with our world has ungrounded him. He's in a limbo of sorts, and although likely quite belonging where he is, without an anchor here he cannot sustain for too long... I've seen this actually with...”
Raising his hand, Severus cut the man off. “How do we find the dimension?”
Jaz waved his hand at Draco, black talons glinting in the light, as if he had already explained it all and was waiting for everyone to catch up. Confusion again on his face as no one seemed to understand, he went again for his notes, only to have Severus reach over and firmly take them from his hands.
“Mr. McVicar—”
“Jaz,” the white hair man said, pushing his glasses again in place as he stared up bemusedly at Severus's stern expression.
Severus sighed in annoyance, frown growing. “Mr. McVicar, what must we do, with Draco's help, to find the dimension?”
“I will need his blood. A lot of it.” Suddenly Jaz smiled, revealing sharp, pointed teeth, Draco shivering in response. “Also, a complete intake of his genetic history might alleviate a bit of that, depending if the dimension is already known. They are a bit like fingerprints, dimensions. Very similar, side by side, and infinite in amount. It takes a lot to actually pin point exact ones, and even more difficult to entrench yourself once you do find it... but with the right spells, the right anchors...”
Harry stepped up to Draco as the man started another tangent, hand on his shoulder in a show of support. Draco, naturally, threw him off. Malfoy was far less accommodating whenever other people were around, Harry was figuring out. He suspected it had to do with all the teasing tickling he had done to the boy in McGonagall's class. And well, Harry could not feel the least bit sorry for it because of the results of said teasing afterwards.
Considering a moment, he held Draco's hand instead, the boy stiffening momentarily, and then relaxing when Harry did nothing else. Maybe Ron and Hermione had something to it, not being quite so aggressive with the boy. It seemed very stupid that they didn't think Harry was treating Draco like a person... but then, Harry hadn't really remembered how people were with each other for a while now.
The idea of just touching Draco because he could actually touch him, had seemed very natural, if not obvious. That he hadn't really cared much if Draco wanted to be touched was probably a problem... Probably. He wasn't quite certain Draco did not want to be touched, no matter all his many complaints. Actually, Harry was fairly certain he did, and was having a lot of difficulty discerning the difference.
Jaz was saying something again, having finally and calmly wrested his notebook back from an irate Severus. “I understand your beast inheritance has not been awoken, Mr. Malfoy. Was that something you were considering to help in this process?”
“No,” Severus said before Draco could answer. “Let the boy stay human.”
“Severus, I do believe you do not like what I am,” Jaz mussed, looking the man over as he peered up from his notes. Severus just raised a brow at him, not denying or confirming. “Mr. Malfoy is no more human than myself; he just looks it. I look it, when I choose to. I'm sure Mr. Potter could be quite descriptive in just how non-human our glowing friend here is,” he said, waving at Draco again.
“I can see bits, like the glow, because my eyes, and other senses are connected to my other dimension. Magic is a very visual experience there. From what I can gather, Mr. Malfoy's sense of physical self through touch is in his dimension, along with his sense of smell and taste. Sight and hearing seem to be missing... but that could change if the boy is woken up. Having someone actually able to see Mr. Potter might be useful, wouldn't you agree?”
“No,” Severus repeated, voice flat and leaving little room for discussion. “We will do without seeing Mr. Potter. Draco is not an experiment; he is someone caught up in all this. As his Head of House, it is my responsibility to make sure he is not exploited.”
“Exploited... You really don't like me...” Flipping through notes, Jaz hummed to himself idly and completely ignored the glower sent his way. “Mr. Potter, do you have anything to add to our discussion, seeing as Mr. Malfoy has been spoken for?”
Harry raised his brows, no one having bothered to actually get a quill and paper for him. “Er... You can't hear me, can you?” He asked hesitantly. Given the silence, that was a no. He pulled at Draco's hand when no one seemed willing to actually assist in him talking.
Draco blinked in his general direction, brows furrowed for a moment. Rolling his eyes, Harry placed the boy's hand to his head and started nodding emphatically until Draco understood he wanted to talk.
“Ah, I need a quill,” Draco said, looking at his professor expectantly. Severus actually seemed relieved for something to do besides glare at the man in his office. Odd to Harry, considering, although a bit talkative, Jaz had been fairly fun, not to mention helpful.
Draco sat at Harry's urging and picked up a quill. Staring a moment at Draco's bowed head, Harry bent down, wrapping his arm around the boy's chest and now rather used to the way Draco would gasp and warm in response. Because he wanted Harry to touch him. He reached out his hand, grasping Draco's, and stealing a moment to stare at him from the side, the boy's eyes fixed on the paper before him. Only to raise up, silver turning towards him when he felt his breath so close. Harry really had to stop breathing so much.
You mentioned that waking Malfoy's genetics up could help him sense more. What about me? If I'm in multiple dimensions like you think, would waking up my genetics help the situation?
Jaz hummed, notes again flipping. He sat on the side of Severus's desk, missing the glare sent his way. “I was considering something like that, Mr. Potter... But the reality is, I can't reach you to wake you up. Mr. Malfoy could, through appropriate spells, but it would certainly require him to be woken for it, which is not an option.”
“Would it fix him?” Draco asked quietly. “I would be willing, if it would save him.” Harry peered around, very much wishing to see his expression, but Draco was ducking his head from him.
This time Jaz held his hand up, interrupting Severus's soon to be occurring rant. “There is no guarantee. It has never been done before, to my knowledge. Mr. Potter's situation is unique, because usually one does not cross dimensions unless one is made for it to begin with. Most in his situation have ended up there from their own neglect in spellwork...”
Severus cleared his throat, long fingers tapping. “What would the likelihood be, Mr. McVicar, that Potter transforming could save him?”
“Ah... I don't honestly know...” Jaz turned, casually leaning his hip as he placed his notebook flat on the desk and paged through, stopping to read a line. “We don't know what the boy is, do we? No... really, do we?” he asked, blinking up at Severus.
“No. He has said he is dark to see, with light cracking through his skin.”
“And that could just be signs of his poor condition, not even his actual form,” Jaz hummed. “Waking him up while still in limbo could possibly do harm... or good. Like I said, it is a unique case. It would be best to approach in the most known way and find the dimension.”
“So... how much blood are we talking about here?” Draco asked, nervous again.
“Oh, a few pints or so... Maybe more... No more than half of what you have...”
“Mr. McVicar!” Snape snarled, hands slamming on his desk. “That would kill the boy!”
Still riffling through notes, the man didn't bother to look up. “Severus, I have been clear, I prefer to be called Jaz.”
Harry was fairly certain Snape had reached his hexing point. He had never seen Snape attempt to bodily harm someone, but apparently Jaz was just too much for his quiet sensibilities of potions and solitude.
“I was wondering when it was going to come to this,” Jaz mussed lightly, eyes raising from his notes as Severus grabbed him by his collar. “Is it my glasses? Too hipster for you? No, you wouldn't know that term...”
It was not helping, Severus dragging the man up and pulling him towards his door. “You will not drain my student of his blood.”
“The lipstick, I think... You know, I get a lot of crap for the lipstick, but it's really just the natural color of my lips...” Severus had opened the door, Jaz staring out into the hallway. He raised his white eyebrows, blue eyes meeting very black, very angry eyes next to him. “Well? Think you got it in you?”
Harry burst out laughing, Draco sighing in dismay as Snape giving a ferocious growl and shoved the man toward the hall. It didn't work, Jaz planted in place, suddenly seeming very tall as the potion's master leaned over in attempt to push him out.
In what could only be described as graceful, Jaz fluidly spun Severus, set him in his chair, and shut the door to the classroom to lean against it. Transformed, he was very tall and narrow, long, cat like tail flicking languidly against the door as he studied his claws and let Snape calm down. “Mr. Malfoy, the blood would not be all at once, of course. Ideally, we would find Mr. Potter before reaching such a volume, but I do not like to mince words when it comes to the things needed to sacrifice.”
Draco did not reply, very much fixed on Snape's confused, dazed face as the man held his head.
“Don't mind him; it happens from time to time. He should be okay in about fifteen minutes,” Jaz said, reaching for his notebook once again. “The energy creatures like us give off just rattles some people. Makes them a bit irrational at times... volatile... Likely why your Mr. Potter was always getting into so many fights.
Harry raised his brows at that, remembering how most of those fights were with Malfoy, another apparent creature.
Do unwoken creatures tend to react to each other?
“Oh my, yes. It's usually how they wake up. Bit too much energy, mix some blood lust in there—we're all just animals at the end of the day.”
Draco was sliding his gaze towards Harry, silver eyes a bit hazy. “Always violent, or maybe sometimes just... um... lust?”
Jaz grinned wickedly, sharp teeth again making an appearance as he flipped through pages. “I would avoid sex with another creature, if that is your concern. Many wake up that way.”
“So... there might be a drive, then...?” Draco asked, gnawing on his lip and now very much not looking in Harry's direction.
“Mmm, most assuredly. Usually initiated by scent... sometimes blood, too...” As if just having heard himself, the man glanced up, meeting Draco's eyes. “You may not want to be so close that you can smell him. Scent can be a rather dangerous game.”
Draco swallowed, shifting a bit forward from Harry's embrace, the back of his neck turning red. “But, they're not all the same... Not everyone is going to, uh, respond, right? He might not even be anything like me.”
“Oh, he's something. Same dimension, with intense power and strength. Tell me, would you say he's possessive at all?”
I'm right bloody here, you know. Harry scrawled, Jaz and Draco's eyes drifting to the page and then completely ignoring him.
“Definitely relentless...” Draco said, lashes lowering. “Bit entitled, like he just expects agreement. Bold, with no sense of personal boundaries at all...”
“That does sound like the type. Jealous?”
“Yes... Seems to be intent to make sure other's know just how bloody close he can get to me.”
It's the only way to show I'm here.
“Bullshit. You grabbed me in the Great Hall just to show them you could,” Draco snapped. “Licked me right up my neck—who the hell does that?”
Harry glared, and then shrugged, nuzzling into Draco's neck and fanning hot breath there. “Yeah, so who the fuck cares? Not like you don't like it.” Harry was fairly certain the boy fucking loved it, given the way his pulse increased and body tightened and then relaxed into him.
“It sounds like he's chasing you,” Jaz spoke slowly, glancing to where Draco's hair was shifting. “Might be, he even thinks he's caught you, which would explain his lack of some of the more competitive, aggressive behaviors. No competition on his particular plane.”
“Oh, we used to fight all the god damn time, when he was visible,” Draco said a bit shakily, trying to throw Harry off his shoulder and failing. “Competed in quidditch to the point of a lot of bloody fist fights... Potter, I am fucking warning you.” Draco growled suddenly.
Harry just smirked, kissing the boy's neck again, and then nipping. “Hey, you're the one ignoring me.”
Jaz raised a brow, notes discarded on the table. “Has he ever fought over you, not just with you?”
Draco went to shake his head, and then stopped. “Once, I think.”
“Mr. Potter? Have you?” Jaz asked, looking in Harry's general direction.
“Oh, so now everyone cares what I think.” Anthony Holt called him a death eater in training, and I beat his face in. Harry wrote out.
“I was thinking about Boyle, actually,” Draco muttered.
Ah. I could see how you might think that.
“Because he tried to kiss me...”
Shouldn't have done it in front of me.
“It was just a fucking game,” Draco snapped.
So is quidditch, and I fucking own in that too.
“You arrogant, bullheaded piece of shit—”
Jaz snorted loudly. “Well it doesn't get much clearer than that. I would recommend some space if you're serious about staying human. You two are a damn powder keg.”
“I have been trying to get space, but the bloody bastard won't give it!” Draco snarled, attempting to pull himself from Harry's arms, both suddenly wrapped around him tight.
Harry pushed forward, trapping Draco against his chest instead of the chair back. “Maybe if you would stop fucking moaning every time I breathe on you, I'd be more willing to give you space.” Although, Harry was fairly certain even then he wouldn't, likely just spend his time pulling said noises from Draco in other ways.
“I think the first thing we need to do is make you a proper pen. This,” Jaz indicating Draco's flustered form as he tried to free himself and not respond to Harry's touch, “Is not helping matters.”
Draco nodded quickly, yelping as Harry bit his neck again. “He can touch things that hold enough magic.”
“Maybe we could wrap you in some sort of barrier? So that he can't—He does not seem happy about that idea, does he?” Jaz hummed as Harry began to scrawl furiously with Draco's hand.
Are you fucking serious? I haven't had physical contact with another human being in nearly a year and you want to
“Malfoy!” Harry growled, as Draco slammed his free hand down on the quill, stopping Harry's writing.
“Potter, you will compromise and acknowledge some fucking boundaries, or I'm putting a barrier up and keeping it up.”
Glaring at the very determined look in Draco's eyes, Harry slowly relaxed his hold around the boy's torso, although did not let go.
“More,” Draco insisted.
I won't be able to write if I let go.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
You look like you want to be fucked, you sexy prat.
“Son of a—you are so fucking dead!” Harry realized very quickly that although Draco could not punch through the chair to get at him, he was more than willing to grab him by the hair and shove him to the ground.
Jaz waited patiently, not seemingly surprised to find Draco fighting an invisible force and kicking the ground ferociously. “Careful, Mr. Malfoy. He won't fight you back, and he's already damaged.”
“It's Potter, of course he'll fight back,” Draco snarled.
“Not anymore. Considering your description, the boy is going to be clingy, aggressive, and absolutely yielding to anything you want. Except space, because he likely can't help himself.”
Draco stopped his vindictive kicking, realizing although Harry had been blocking his feet very well, he had not actually been lashing back. “I thought you didn't know what he was?” he asked, face flush as he sat back down.
“Still don't. This is more identifying common behavioral traits in beasts. The same way you're showing the common signs of pursuit through hot and cold behavior, luring attention and then pushing away—”
“Bloody am not!”
Jaz just raised his brows. “And likely making things very interesting, if not confusing for our invisible friend here.”
Harry sat up, licking his bloodied hand. “Fucking knew it, Malfoy. You're a bloody fucking tease.”
“Ridiculous. Luring... I didn't even know he was here until yesterday!”
Harry grabbed Draco's hand, waiting for the boy to grudgingly pick up the quill.
Scent, remember?
Draco scowled, refusing to speak.
You Want Me.
“Potter I will wake up Snape so fucking fast, you will not even understand how strong his protection spell will be!”
Jaz glanced over at Severus, who had slipped from dazed into sleep at some point during all the commotion. “That can't be good. He must be particularly sensitive... Troubling, considering all the help I'm going to need from his potion work.” He pushed his glasses back from their slipped location and went to his bag across the room. “Alright gentlemen, I think it's time we wrap this up. Mr. Potter, I will be taking some of Mr. Malfoy's blood, and I ask that you be calm about it.”
Harry glanced up from where he had been watching Draco's emotions swiftly shift across his face as the boy kept reading the last line Harry had written. He seriously doubted he was going to flip out over Draco getting a damn needle in the arm... And then he saw the wicked blade in Jaz's hand, and without much thought had pulled Draco up over the chair backwards and across the room.
“It only looks gruesome, I promise,” Jaz said lightly. “The spell does the slicing and collecting, I just enchanted a weapon so that no one would confuse it for something else.”
“Potter, you're being ridiculous,” Draco muttered, but Harry could see the boy was paler than normal and afraid.
“If you want, you can hold him steady. But it's not going to hurt.” With a very swift, fluid motion, Jaz had crossed the room and pressed the blade to Draco's inner arm.
Harry and Draco both stared, Draco having gone stiff in fear but not in pain. A container in Jaz's hand was suddenly full of red black blood and the blade was removed, Draco staring blankly at the small drops of red left on his arm. Harry ran his finger over, looking for the cut, only to have the blood stick to his fingertips.
“Look at that...” Jaz hummed as suddenly he could see some shape to one of Harry's fingers as the blood wrapped around it. “Hardly a longterm solution, but you could just cover the boy in some of your blood.”
“Yeah, I don't think so,” Draco mumbled, not about to split his veins open just so he could see Harry.
“Alright, off with you. I need to fix your poor professor here, and get this potion going. We should have some answers within the week... hopefully...” Jaz waved them away, eyes again straying to his notebook as he left blood and blade on Snape's desk and began looking something up. Harry had to wonder how long the strange man was going to let Severus sleep before remembering to wake him up.

Alone with Harry back in his bedroom, Draco found himself uncomfortable. Although Harry had not made another attempt to touch him, except his hand to show he had made it in the door, Draco felt edgy and flustered, as if expecting the boy to at any moment.
Partly, Draco wanted to ask Harry a million damn questions, many of them concerning just what the fuck the boy wanted from him. But that would involve the quill, and the extreme closeness, and Draco did not think he could handle that in his current state, and alone with no other people to interrupt.
He had missed lunch, barely eaten breakfast, and was not really in the mood for dinner, even though it was the right time for it. Draco decided to catch up on some homework, being extremely behind in most of his classes. He tried for as long as he could, lids growing tired and revealing just how difficult it was for him to concentrate. He kept trying to feel Harry's presence, but the boy had tucked himself away somewhere and wasn't making himself known.
Eventually he must have dozed, because Draco nodded awake, the lighting dark from the spell to lower for the sleeping hours. He stumbled from his desk, careful to not knock his books from the surface, and went to the bathroom. Blearily he stripped, swaying after drying his hands, debating whether to shower, or just go straight to bed and hope to have enough time in the morning for one.
Hands pressed against his back in the dim light, warm compared to the chill dungeon air on his skin. Shivering slightly, Draco did not resist as Harry pressed his hot body up against his back and held him lightly. “Thought I told you to stay out of my loo...” Draco murmured, Harry's hands moving around his waist and with palms flat, pushed up his sides. “Oh...”
Harry bent his head against Draco's neck, speaking something he could not make out, besides it being very tickling. Eyes drifting down with nothing to focus on, Draco could feel Harry tremble behind him, chest heaving as if having just run, pulse fluttering in the fingers digging in to Draco's sides. “Potter... are you... oh hell...” Eyes fluttering shut, he shifted so Harry could have better access to his neck as hot, open mouthed kisses rained down.
This was very much a bad idea, Draco again remembering the words Harry had written last while in Snape's office. They were very true words, making them very dangerous. Draco wanted Harry. He wanted Harry to want him, take him... fill him. And right now, half asleep with Harry rubbing strong, unsteady hands over him, he could not remember why that was a bad idea.
Draco bent backwards, gasping loudly as Harry's hands found his front, moving up his flat stomach and chest, and then down again, fingers dragging wonderful friction. The hands intentionally stopped right above his boxers, fingers just brushing to prove if Harry went lower, there would be no fabric to stop him. Fingers splaying wider, Harry's hands moved slightly to the sides, running up Draco again, slowly, heatedly, until Draco was moaning and Harry was squeezing his nipples.
It was very quiet, just Draco's uneven panting broken by soft, aching cries echoing in the dim bathroom. There was the light scrape of flesh on flesh as Harry rubbed his palms down again, this time daring lower. Draco watched unseeing as Harry ran fingers over the front of his hips, caressing his soft flesh stretched over hard bone. Then lower, to the tops of his trembling thighs, large hands wrapping possessively as they stopped and again dug fingers in and indented Draco's flesh.
“Harry...” Draco breathed out, the world spinning as he felt the unmistakable press of the boy's erection against his ass as Harry bent over him. Eyes closing again, Draco's head fell back, landing on the wide shoulder behind him, soft hair tickling against his ear. Harry turned his face, kissing him slowly, deeply, until Draco couldn't stand anymore, his knees growing weak. Harry's hands were on his hips again, holding him up, rubbing small circles as Draco quaked.
“Oh god... hell... Potter, please stop... I-I can't stop...” Harry was pressing up against him, grinding his hard length between his ass cheeks until Draco was certain if he just moved a small inch or so, it would be up against his hole, stretching into him, claiming him. It would be, god, so good... it would be so, so fucking good... “Please... have to stop...” he moaned, pressing back into the delicious sensation.
A low rumble tore through Harry's chest, and then there was sudden cold on Draco's back as Harry stepped away, hands holding his shoulders hard to keep him from falling. Draco swayed, head bowed forward, gasps shaking him.
Harry's hands felt like steel, scalding breath hitting the back of Draco's neck in harsh pants. Then Harry was pushing him forward, step after step, Draco raising his hands to catch the cool tile before his head fell against it. “Stop...” he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his face on the wall, his hard cock jolting from the cold feel of the tile through his fabric barrier.
Rough, forceful hands were on Draco's back, moving over his shoulders and shoulder blades, grasping and massaging and rubbing into him as if trying to ingrain them into his muscles. Down, over his back and lower back, the curve of his spine and up his sides again, fingers dragging, short nails scratching. “Oh fuck... fuck, Harry...” Lower still, grabbing Draco's hips, fingers splaying over his ass, thumbs digging in and pressing firm as Harry cupped his cheeks and pushed him forward. “Oh god... please...”
Now hands were on his thighs, grabbing the thick, tense muscles, spreading them wide, Harry's foot kicking Draco's feet as the side of a hand pressed against his crack and pushed in, brushing his hole. Draco jerked forward into the cold tile, crying out loudly, his entire body tense as Harry turned his hand and touched fingertips ever so lightly against his tight entrance. Draco sobbed from the soft touch, feeling sweat drip down his face as he spread his legs wider in anticipation.
Harry suddenly turned him, pushing him back against the tile, kissing him hard and demanding while Draco did everything he could to not beg for more, to not turn and bend and beg Harry to finish what he had started. Instead he threw his arms around Harry's neck, clinging on the best he could while Harry kissed and nipped down his neck, hot breath exploding in fast bursts. Harry's hands moved over his sides possessively, hips rubbing his hard burning cock into Draco's until Draco was spreading again, lifting his knee up the side of Harry's strong thigh. Harry grabbed his leg, pulling it up higher with a wrench, grinding against Draco's tight body, and then shakily pushing away.
He was gone, his body heat and presence disappearing and leaving Draco cold and confused. Trembling, Draco moaned, his legs unable to stand as he slipped down the wall onto the floor in a heap.
“Damn it... fucking damn it...” Head bowed down, Draco gaped, sweat dripping down his face, body so fucking tight and aching that he didn't know how he wasn't on fire, just char left on the floor. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the saliva dripping down his chin, then followed with his own hands, over his jaw, down his throat with hard, dragging fingers as he groaned. “Fuck!”
Fucking Potter. God, how the fuck was he supposed to ever touch that mean bitch after this? Bear a child with her? Fuck. A turkey baster had a better fucking chance.
Draco's hands were on his thighs and through his boxers before he even realized it, moving down, one grasping his achingly hard dick and the other pushing fingers, roughly probing into the heat inside his aching hole. He didn't care that he was loud, moans echoing as he bucked on the floor, wishing that it could be Harry fucking him instead of his narrow fingers.
He came with something near a scream, head slamming back against the tile, body tingling, blood roaring in his ears as red flashed behind his eyes.
He was so fucked. So impossibly begging for it, on his knees, fucked. God damn fucking Potter for fucking ruining his life.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Intangible