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In Loco Parentis	By : Phoenixstrike Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16793 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all identifiable characters are copyright of JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scolastic and Warner Brothers. This fanfiction is for entertainment only and makes no money. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter List
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Harry’s head was pounding almost as much as his heart by the time he eventually made it into his room. It had taken him several minutes to gather the equilibrium needed to peel himself from the sofa and put one foot in front of the other to actually carry him up the stairs to his bedroom. Harry wanted to barge into Draco’s room, pull the man flush against him and continue the kiss. He wanted Draco to touch him, to run his hands all over Harry’s goose-pimpled body. He wanted Draco to-

Fuck. He wanted Draco.

Harry realised he had some urgent self-discovery to undertake, but that could wait a few more minutes; the single-most important thing at that moment was dealing with the erection still throbbing in his trousers and stubbornly refusing to deflate. ‘Something for you to, ah, think over,’ Draco had said to him, as he left the room. Well, Harry fully intended to take Draco up on his suggestion. He let out an involuntary gasp as his hands brushed over his shaft as he undid his trousers in record speed, sliding them down to his ankles and kicking them off into a heap impatiently, which was swiftly followed by his underwear, before erecting an Imperturbable Charm around his room.

He sank into his mattress and took himself furiously into his hand, replaying the events of the last half an hour in his mind as he did so. The recollection of the tingling sensation of Draco’s lips pressed against his, a thick hardness pressing so seductively into Harry’s hip, and the sound of Draco’s deep, masculine groans in his ear sent Harry sailing over the edge quicker than he ever remembered coming before. He came with a loud moan, and possibly Draco’s name on his lips, as a fiery intensity he’d rarely experienced before spread from his groin and engulfed him wholly, and left him panting and breathless.

Harry recovered from his orgasm and quickly cleaned up the evidence, before entering his bathroom and splashing cold water all over his face. He looked into his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Draco had asked him earlier if the kiss had lit his fire. Harry laughed dryly; that was the understatement of the century. He was a fucking inferno. His skin was almost feverishly hot, and his eyes were ablaze with a sparkle he’d not seen in them before; despite his dishevelled appearance, poleaxed expression and his post-climax glow, Harry couldn’t deny his face looked more alive than it had done in years, and he couldn’t stop the silly grin from spreading.

Grabbing a towel off the rack and placing it near to his shower cubicle, Harry turned his shower on and let the water get as hot as he could bear it, before removing the few clothes that had remained on Harry’s body due to his earlier desperation, and he stood underneath the spray and letting it fall all over his skin. His immediate sexual desire somewhat satiated, Harry was able to turn his attention to the Bigger Question- what this meant for his sexuality. He soaped up his hair and body, quickly rinsed, and shut off the water. He quickly dried himself and threw on some clean pyjamas, before re-entering his room, retrieving some parchment and a Muggle ballpoint pen, and propped himself up into a comfortable seating position on his bed with his pillows.

My Sexual Identity Crisis, he wrote across the top of the sheet of parchment, then put the pen down on the bed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, before calling for Kreacher to bring him some coffee. A few minutes later and, with a large cup of strong black coffee in one hand, he picked up his pen again in the other, and began to add his rather confused thoughts and points to address to the parchment.

One kiss does not make me gay, he wrote. It’s just been so long since I was kissed; I over-reacted and got caught up in the moment.

Bollocks, his brain argued. You’ve never been kissed like that, and you know it. It has nothing to do with time. You’ve never reacted to a kiss like that before in your life.

I’ve never looked at men in that way before, Harry’s next point stated.

You’ve not exactly looked at women, either, his brain once again retorted. Two teenage crushes whilst you were still in school and a relationship that ended six years ago does not amount to a vast bank of heterosexual experience.

Harry put his pen down. He wanted to argue further with himself, but the evidence was stacking up before his eyes. His non-existent interest in dating the many women with whom Ron tried to set him up. His awkwardness in his relationship with Ginny, and his lack of interest in sex. The toe-curling, gut-wrenching arousal that Draco had drawn from him with just a kiss.

Part of him was furious with himself. He was twenty-six years old in just under two weeks’ time. Not a teenage boy caught up in a hormonal whirl of desire and wanting to shag anything that moved. How could this be something he was only considering now? His brain seemed to have the answer ready for that, too.

You loved Ginny. That’s not in question. You were happy with her. You thought she was what you needed. Throughout your youth, your mind was fixated on Voldemort and just staying alive during a period when other people your age were thinking of relationships and discovering who they were. Dating wasn’t a high priority. The war ended and it was the most natural thing in the world to fall back into a relationship with her, support her and her family through the loss of Fred. Then when you split up you threw yourself into your career. Ginny hurt you and you vowed to stay away from dating for a while. And then Scorpius entered your life, and he took priority over every other single thing in it.

Harry couldn’t deny that was the truth. Hermione had said to him, shortly after he and Ginny separated, that he was ‘sexually naïve.’ At the time he had felt offended but now he had to admit she had been right. He couldn’t ever remember spending any time trying to discover who he really was, or what he wanted.

There was no doubt in his mind that Draco’s kiss alone would have been enough for Harry to act, had it not been for Scorpius, even if it was just experimentation. But Harry was more than aware that he owed it to that little boy to not ruin what friendship he and Draco had formed over the past few weeks, for the sake of lust, if that was all this could ever be. If Harry was going to do this- and he was still far from sure that he was- it had to be because he was thinking with his heart, not his penis. He needed to make sure this wasn’t a whim or just sexual, and he had no idea how he felt about pursuing a relationship with another man. Fuck, he wasn’t even sure he was gay, and if he was, he still didn’t know how he felt about Draco. It surely took more than one heart-stopping kiss (followed by a spectacular wank over said kiss) and a few self-probing questions to redesign a person’s sexuality, didn’t it? As Harry lost the battle with his exhausted brain and slipped into sleep, he thought that he wasn’t so sure; things suddenly made a lot more sense to him. And that night, it was of Draco that he dreamt.

****

Harry rose early the following morning despite his late night, dressing quickly and headed to the kitchen where he was joined by Scorpius minutes later. The boy greeted him how he always did, with a huge bear-hug and a sloppy kiss. Harry took a few seconds to relish in the normality of the situation. And then, of course, the inevitable happened. Draco entered the kitchen and Harry caught his breath. He also felt himself blush, as Draco flashed him a dazzling smile, so genuine that the previous night flooded back to Harry in a rush, not that it had been far from his thoughts in the first place.

Draco was simply dressed in Muggle high-street attire, yet he managed to make it look like a designer outfit. The black short-sleeved t-shirt clung to toned but nor overly-muscled arms, and the dark blue denim jeans were a perfect fit, showing off the contours of his arse- not that Harry was looking, of course- to perfection. His hair was freshly-washed and he had dried it roughly with a towel, leaving it to fall messily around his face, which reminded Harry of how it had looked not even twelve hours’ previously when his fingers had been buried deep within it. His skin looked pink and healthy, and there was no trace of the deep purple circles that had surrounded his eyes for the past couple of months. In fact, Harry mused, it was the healthiest he had seen Draco look since the start of the ex-Slytherin’s ill-fated sixth year at Hogwarts.

He suddenly realised he was staring at Draco with a gormless expression on his face and his half-open mouth hanging open in a slack gesture, and quickly shut it, before standing too quickly and disturbing the table, causing a flagon of orange juice to fall over. Swearing under his breath, he withdrew his wand and cleaned the juice up, whilst Scorpius laughed at him. Harry hastily put another couple of slices of toast in front of him and busied himself with the task of filling the kettle. He lit the stove with his wand, then turned round, not knowing whether to feel relieved or disappointed that Draco was paying him no mind, instead greeting Scorpius and asking him about his plans for the day. He said the ball was in your court, Harry reminded himself. And Scorpius is sitting right there. What are you expecting him to do, exactly? A sudden mental image flooded Harry’s brain of Draco pushing him against the kitchen worktop, attacking Harry’s mouth with his own, then snaking his hand down between Harry’s thighs and grab his-

The kettle on the stove whistled, rousing Harry from his daydream with a jolt, which was just as well, as he had felt the beginnings of arousal stirring in his groin. Not a good thing to happen with his five-year-old ward in the room. He hastily made a pot of fresh coffee, poured a large amount into a mug to which he added cream and sugar before handing to Draco, and poured himself a black one, which he gulped despite its heat.

“So,” he said eventually, breaking the silence. “I’m going to Ron’s and Hermione’s this morning. It’s been ages since Scorpius played with Rose.”

“We’re going to see the baby?” Scorpius asked, suddenly excited. Harry nodded.

“You’d better go and put some clothes on, Scorpius, if you’re going out with Harry soon,” Draco told him. Scorpius scarfed the rest of his breakfast and dashed out of the kitchen to get dressed, leaving Harry alone with Draco. Harry could feel Draco’s stare boring a hole into his head.

“Er,” he said, as he studied the pattern on the tablecloth in meticulous detail and felt his face flame. “I, er….” He closed his mouth again, feeling stupid. Draco chuckled lightly.

“I hope you thought about us last night,” he said seductively, clearly less uncomfortable than Harry felt. “I know I did.” Harry’s head snapped up at this, and he gazed into Draco’s eyes, warm and inviting, rather than the steely grey he’d come to think of Draco’s eyes as. Draco’s double entendre was obvious to Harry, and once more he felt the flush creep up his cheeks. He nodded his head to confirm what Draco obviously knew anyway, drawing what could only be described as a satisfied smirk from the blond.

“I’m thinking about it, Draco. About us, I mean.” He decided to be honest. “I’ve done nothing but think about it since it happened. You know exactly what you did to me last night, and you know full damn well I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have a massive, um, effect on me. It’s just a lot to take in, and everything has happened so suddenly. It wasn’t something that even crossed my mind before, that I could, you know, be attracted to blokes, I mean, and last night kind of flicked the switch in my brain, if you get that metaphor? I’m far from adverse to the idea, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Draco smiled again- the same smile he had flashed Harry as he entered the kitchen. Harry felt something flutter pleasantly in his stomach as Draco did so.

“That’ll do for now,” Draco said softly. “I like you, Harry. I trust you, and I’m attracted to you. And I hope you feel the same about me. If you do, then it’s a good start. The rest, well, we can work it out as we go. But I think we could have something incredible.”

Yes! Harry’s brain was screaming out. That’s good enough! On impulse, Harry laid his hand on top of Draco’s that was still gripping his coffee cup. “Draco…” he began, unsure what to say. He realised he was leaning in slowly towards the other man. “Draco, I….” He parted his mouth and tilted his head, his lips just inches from Draco’s who had mimicked his actions. Just a couple more seconds and their mouths would meet…

“Ready, Harry!” Scorpius shouted as he bounded into the kitchen. Harry and Draco sprung apart, both looking flushed. Harry coughed nervously and finished his coffee, then checked his watch.

“I have to go,” Harry said to Draco. “I still have a lot to think about, OK? We’ll talk later.” He shepherded Scorpius towards the Floo, forcing himself not to turn around, but thinking Draco’s final sentence to him may well be true.

****

“Are you going to tell us what’s on your mind, Harry?” Hermione asked, once lunch had been devoured and Teddy, Scorpius and Rose were all happily playing upstairs once more. “You’ve been distracted all morning.” She handed Hugo, who was finally asleep, over to Ron, who placed the infant in his crib and set it to rock gently with a spell. Harry cursed inwardly; Hermione had always been perceptive. Too perceptive, sometimes, he thought wryly. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, he said to himself, and took a deep breath.

“What would you say if I told you I was up until the early hours of this morning trying to figure out if I’m gay?” he asked them cautiously. Their responses were predictable; Ron burst out in raucous laughter, whilst Hermione reached over and took Harry’s left hand in her own.

“Did something happen with Draco?” she asked, that knowing look on her face. Ron immediately stopped laughing.

“You’re- you’re serious, mate?” he asked. Harry nodded.

“Draco kissed me last night,” he admitted, as Ron gasped and Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “We had a bit to drink- not that I can blame the alcohol, neither of us were drunk. Tipsy, perhaps, but we were both still totally in control of ourselves. We got talking about relationships, I mentioned how I’ve not been with anyone since Ginny, and didn’t miss it, he basically told me that he was gay despite his marriage, and the next thing I know he’s giving me the kiss to end all kisses.”

“You liked it then, Harry?” Hermione probed gently. Harry smiled at her.

“It was fantastic,” he said, aware that he had the silly, dreamy expression that was more suited to Luna Lovegood than himself back, but was unable to do anything about it. “And every time I think about it, and, believe me, that’s been a lot in the last twelve hours, my tummy flips. It was only a kiss, we didn’t take it any further, but… if he’d initiated anything more then, yes, I more than likely would have slept with him.”

To Ron’s credit, and Harry’s relief, the redhead didn’t rant or shout, and he managed for the most part to keep the shock he was clearly experiencing off his features. Instead he ran a hand over his face. He looked up and gave his best friend a small smile.

“Look, Harry, I just want you to be happy, mate. You’ve spent your whole life doing what is right, what’s best for other people. It’s okay to do something for yourself, you know. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you think he can make you happy, then go for it. You’ve both had hard lives, and I think you’re both overdue some happiness.”

Harry stared at Ron. Being married to Hermione really had gone a long way to helping Ron to grow up. Harry had to admit he was expecting the usual slurs about the ‘Slytherin wanker’ and ‘ex death Eater scum’ that he had heard Ron use to call Draco more than once in the past- and Harry had to admit that Ron was justified in his dislike of Draco. Ron’s acceptance now, when he must have been feeling very uncomfortable, meant the world to Harry, and he hoped the hug he captured Ron in conveyed those sentiments clearly. They were both smiling when the hug broke, anyhow. Harry turned his attention to Hermione.

“How do you feel about this?” he asked gingerly. “After all, he’s said some vile things to you over the years.”

“Well, I can’t say I ever saw you ending up with Draco,” she said, “even after you and Ron found him alive. But I agree with Ron. Yes, he was an arse to us all at school, but that was all a long time ago now. He must have changed for you to see something in him and, frankly, Harry, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a very, very long time. But I cannot lie and say I’m surprised that you think you’re gay. I’ve thought it for years.”

Well. That, Harry wasn’t expecting. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a guppy out of water, before finding his voice again. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he said, his voice high and squeaky, and extremely unlike his own.

“I thought you knew!” Hermione replied. “It seemed obvious to me. I didn’t say anything because, well, your sexuality is your private business and I thought you’d tell us when you were ready. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by bringing up something I thought you didn’t want to discuss. It didn’t even occur to me you might not realise it yourself.” She reached over and took Harry’s hand in hers again. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Still stunned, Harry merely nodded. He felt even more idiotic now. Hermione had known something deeply personal about himself that he hadn’t even worked out yet. And, as the day had worn on, Harry had become surer he was gay. Or, ‘Dracosexual’ at the very least, because he couldn’t deny his attraction to the blond.

“It’s not as simple as that, though,” Harry said. “There’s Scorpius to consider. Draco and I are getting on brilliantly as friends, but do I want to rock the boat? What happens if we take it further, it goes tits up, and we can’t stand to be around each other anymore? I will not have that boy disrupted and hurt again. And Draco and I spent so many years hating each other, after all.”

“No couples have a guarantee, Harry,” Hermione said gently. “And you’ll never know if you don’t give it a go, will you.”

“Hermione’s right, mate,” Ron said. “You’re a Gryffindor after all. You’ve always followed your instincts. If they’re telling you to go for it, then go for it.”

“I can’t believe I’ve just told you both I think I’m gay, and contemplating a relationship with Draco Malfoy of all people, and you’re both encouraging it,” Harry quipped, unable to stop the laughter from escaping. “But honestly, you guys, your support means the world to me.” He checked his watch. “I’d better go. Thank you both so much. I love you both, you know.”

“Fancy some drinks tomorrow night, Harry?” Ron said hopefully. Harry momentarily froze, the automatic ‘no’ ready on his lips. It had been an extremely long time since he and Ron had gone out drinking together. Then he changed his mind. Scorpius was safe, Draco was there, and he really wanted to spend the night with his best mate.

“I can’t tomorrow as I’m in the office Friday morning and I don’t want to feel like shit with a hangover,” he said, and saw Ron’s disappointed but resigned face fall. “But what about Friday night? The Slug and Lettuce in Islington Green OK? Say eight?” Ron’s delight was obvious. He beamed.

“Looking forward to it, Harry,” he replied.

Harry noticed Hermione sniff back a tear. “Oh, it’s just blasted postnatal hormones still,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They make me overly emotional at times. I’m just very happy to see you coming back to us, Harry. We’ve missed you.”

Harry rounded up Scorpius and Teddy, said his goodbyes to his best friends, and returned home. He still wasn’t ready totally to talk to Draco, but the talk with his Ron and Hermione had definitely helped him think things over in his mind.

****

“Remember, what sound does a and r make together?” Harry said patiently to Scorpius that evening, it being his turn to put the youngster to bed.

“Ah, yes, I remember,” Scorpius replied, and returned to his book. “’Stop barking at my sheep!’ says the farmer,” he read. Harry gave him a huge smile.

“Perfect, Scorp,” he complimented. “Your reading is brilliant!” He reached over to the nightstand and picked up The Twits, where he continued to read from where Draco had left off the previous evening. Had that only been twenty-four hours ago?

He finished reading, laughing at the coincidental name of the monkey, Muggle-Wump, as he always did, and prepared to put out the lights.

“Harry,” Scorpius said sleepily as he snuggled contentedly into Harry’s arms, “I’m glad you and Daddy are friends. He always smiles when he’s talking about you.” Scorpius’ words put a huge grin on Harry’s face.

“How about we all go to the park tomorrow, Scorp?” Harry suggested to the now half-awake boy. “We could go to Highbury Fields. Take a picnic lunch? I’m sure your daddy would like to get out of the house for a bit.”

Draco had indeed agreed to a day in the park with enthusiasm. True to his word, he didn’t bring up the kiss again that evening, and Harry didn’t either, although he went to bed that night pretty sure of his decision.

Kreacher had packed the trio a scrumptious picnic and bid ‘Masters Harry, Draco and Scorpius’ a wonderful daytrip. Something about being addressed in that manner- as if the three were a single unit- gave Harry a warm fuzziness inside.

They walked to the park, Scorpius holding both Harry’s and Draco’s hands in his. Draco seemed to be marvelling in being outside, and the park brought out yet another side to the man that Harry had never seen before. Scorpius explained the basic version of the rules of football to his father, then the trio spent a wonderful hour kicking the ball around the park, with Scorpius scoring the majority of the goals past Harry who was playing goalkeeper. Draco laughed, and frolicked, and chased his son around the park, and then Harry had run for his life when Scorpius and Draco both chased him, the pair of them giggling madly. By the time they all paused for lunch they were sweating in the hot July sun, and Harry poured them all tall tumblers of chilled apple juice, which had been kept cold with one of Kreacher’s spells.

“Can I go on the swings now please, Harry and Daddy?” Scorpius asked, the second the last bit of chocolate cake disappeared from his mouth. The adults both nodded, and Harry could tell that Draco had been delighted that Scorpius had sought his permission as well as Harry’s. The usual tug of unease that Harry felt when Scorpius was out of grabbing distance prickled on his skin, and he subtly cast a few specialist Auror charms that would allow him to detect a magical presence within a hundred metres of the park. He relaxed once they were in place, although he noticed that neither he nor Draco took their eyes from Scorpius.

Harry was acutely aware of Draco’s presence next to him, and realised the pair were sat extremely close to one another on the picnic blanket. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach out and take Draco’s hand in his, which he did, holding it tightly. He heard Draco’s breath hitch, and then the pressure was being returned on his own hand. Neither said anything to the other; there was no need for words. But its meaning was clear.

Apart from when Scorpius fell off the slide and cut his knee, which Draco healed with his wand whilst Harry made sure none of the Muggles were watching, the day was perfect. Harry and Draco kept exchanging small smiles and touching each other’s hands; each time Draco’s fingers brushed Harry’s palm, Harry experienced what felt like a small electric shock surging through his body. The urge to throw Draco onto the ground and kiss him senseless was hard to supress.

As wonderful as the day with Scorpius had been, Harry couldn’t wait for the boy’s bedtime to arrive. Draco took him for his bath and put him to bed, and Harry found himself pacing the drawing room, clockwatching and fidgeting, waiting for his return. His heart skipped a beat when he heard Draco’s footsteps descending the stairs, with nervousness, or anticipation, Harry didn’t know. What if his memory had made the kiss into more than it was?

Draco entered the room, looking far better than anyone had the right to in just a short-sleeved button-down shirt and cotton chinos and having spent the day in a park. And- there is was again- that smile, that dazzling grin that completely lit up Draco’s face and, Harry thought, quite possibly had hypnotising effects. He realised his mouth had turned extremely dry and he swallowed. Draco was so close to him now.

“Draco, I-” was all Harry managed to get out before Draco’s lips were on his once again and ohmyfuckinggod, yes, it was every bit as good as Harry remembered it. His fingers grabbed Draco’s hipbones and pulled him even closer to his own body and, yes, there was that defined rigid length digging into him again, immediately causing Harry’s own semi erection to fully harden.

“Harry,” Draco whispered between kisses, before returning to his mouth and drawing those delicious sensations form Harry once more. Harry moaned softly, and walked Draco backwards to the sofa, where they both sank down, Draco in a sitting position and Harry straddling Draco’s thighs. He broke contact with Draco’s mouth and began to kiss across his collarbone, wondering vaguely when he had undone his shirt.

“If you don’t… oh, god… stop that soon, I won’t be able to stop at all,” Draco rasped, and suddenly Harry realised just how close he was to losing all control and tearing Draco’s clothes off there and then on the sofa. Which would be a bad thing, a very bad thing, should Scorpius choose that moment to come down the stairs. With a self-restraint he didn’t know he possessed, he stopped kissing Draco’s collarbone and grinned sheepishly at him, before pulling off his lap and took the seat next to him instead.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ve just wanted to do that to you for the past two days.”

Draco laughed. “It’s not a problem, Harry. Believe me. I just didn’t want you to take this faster than you were comfortable with.”

Harry thought slowing things down a bit might not be a bad thing, and asked Kreacher to prepare dinner for the two of them. They ate in the little-used dining room, and Harry was amazed at how easily the conversation flowed between them.

“You were such a git!” Harry said, as Draco laughed.

“You were the ones trying to sneak a fucking dragon out of Hogwarts. I was merely looking out for the welfare of my fellow students and applying the rules of the school,” Draco replied, deadpanned, causing Harry to laugh again.

“Well, it backfired on you anyway, didn’t it,” said Harry. He paused to put a forkful of gnocchi in his mouth. “Okay then, what about those ‘Potter Stinks’ badges from fourth year? Faking that injury with Buckbeak and managing to reschedule an entire Quidditch match? Face it, Draco, you were a right tosser in school.”

“I’m not a bad tosser now,” Draco replied smoothly as he looked Harry straight in the eye. His face was impassive, but Harry could see a fire in his eyes, that shone of pure want. Harry felt his cheeks redden both in embarrassment and arousal at Draco’s double entendre. His clever and witty retort was lost, and Harry settled for a “nug” instead, causing Draco to snigger lightly.

They took coffee into the drawing room after they’d finished eating, and Harry was amazed at how comfortable he was with Draco; they had simply slipped into a bubble of contentment. Neither said much but the blond was leaning casually against Harry’s chest whilst Harry played Draco’s hair, twirling the locks around his fingers before letting it fall back again, eliciting a satisfied hum from Draco. Soon the pair were kissing again- less fiery than their earlier kiss, but still just as toe-curling as far as Harry was concerned. Draco checked his watch once the kiss ended, and gave a small sound of surprise.

“It’s gone eleven. I didn’t realise it was so late.” He looked at Harry, and suddenly there was a hint of uncertainty on his face. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

Harry’s surprise must have shown clearly, for Draco stuttered. “I- I meant actual sleep! Merlin! I’m not- I mean, I want to- but not until you’re- I just- oh, sod it. Harry, please share my bed tonight. We don’t have to do anything, but I would really like you to be there. We’ll just sleep, I promise.”

Harry kissed the corner of Draco’s mouth as he felt his pulse race yet again.

“Actually, Draco, I think I’d quite like sex,” he replied, then took Draco by the hand and led him up the stairs to Draco’s room.

****

Draco closed his bedroom door, erected a charm that would stop Scorpius from hearing or being able to enter the room (but they could still hear him if needed), then forcefully slammed Harry against the wall, grinding his erection into Harry’s. Harry responded immediately, grabbing the back of Draco’s head and pulling his mouth to his own. He panted into Draco’s mouth when the other man changed the angle of his hips slightly which increased the pressure, which caused the pleasure Harry was experiencing to escalate sharply.

“Draco,” he murmured, as Draco began to suck lightly on Harry’s neck, “if you want this to go further than a quick frottage session up against the wall than you need to stop that now.”

Draco took the hint and broke contact. Instead he slipped off his shirt, and began unfastening his trousers, whilst Harry quickly followed suit.

It was when Draco was standing in front of Harry, naked, erect, flushed from arousal, and looking completely and utterly gorgeous that the last lingering doubts in Harry’s mind about whether he was gay disappeared. Whether he’d only been questioning his sexuality for a couple of days or not, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had never wanted anyone so much in his life as he wanted Draco right now. In the past, with Ginny, he had always felt uncomfortable and self-conscious with being naked in front of her, but right now it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Draco gave an appreciative sigh when Harry slipped off his boxers, and the next thing Harry knew Draco was pushed flush against him and he was being walked backwards to the bed.

When the back of his knees made contact with the mattress, Harry sank down, pulling Draco with him. They were kissing each other everywhere they could reach- their lips, necks, ears, shoulders, all the while making small moans, and gasps of pleasure. Harry noticed that Draco’s deep, masculine almost-growl when Harry nibbled on his ear went straight to his cock, which gave a jerk of anticipation and impatience.

Draco broke contact with Harry, reached over to the bedside table for his wand and cast a quick charm; suddenly a cool slickness appeared on Harry’s hand, and, he noticed, on Draco’s too. The next thing he knew, Draco’s hand was on his erection, and his was on Draco’s, and it was the most incredible thing in the history of the universe. Draco’s shaft felt amazing in his hand; slick, thick and rigid. Knowing it was himself that had coaxed it into that state was a thrill in itself for Harry, and he began to wank Draco enthusiastically, receiving a series of enthusiastic moans from him in response.

“How… oh fuck, Harry… far do you want this to go?” Draco asked, as he ran his thumb over the sensitive head of Harry’s erection. Good Question, Harry thought to himself.

“Whatever you’re prepared to offer, I want,” he replied, and he meant it. Draco smiled at him, his cheeks reddened and forehead covered in sweat.

“Excellent,” he replied, and began a trail of kisses over Harry’s chest, pausing to lap at his nipples, before continuing his journey south. “Trust me,” he said. Harry knew what Draco was going to do, but it still didn’t stop him gasping in shock and bucking off the bed when Draco finally took him into his mouth.

Ginny had done this to Harry, and it had felt nice, but ‘nice’ didn’t even come close to describing the sensations Draco was drawing from him at this moment. Harry felt like the pleasure was engulfing him, consuming him, and he didn’t know whether he wanted it to last forever, or if he wanted it to explode right now in orgasm. Both seemed equally appealing. All too soon, however, the decision was made for him; Draco dipped his tongue into the slit of the head of Harry’s rigid shaft and that was it. He let out a string of expletives, intertwined with a warning for Draco that he was about to come. Draco took Harry even further into his mouth then, and Harry lost it. He fisted the sheets and arched his back, letting a drawn-out groan escape his lips as his orgasm hit. His balls tightened, and his cock twitched, and suddenly he was coming, shooting down Draco’s throat, as a fire he had never before experienced started in his stomach and spread rapidly through every single nerve cell in his body was suddenly alight with wonderful sensations, as he suddenly felt boiling hot and freezing cold, and incredibly light-headed. The blood thundered through his brain and his hearing buzzed, and he was vaguely aware of himself all but chanting Draco’s name repeatedly. His entire body convulsed in spasms. By the time he came back to himself he was drenched in sweat, his heart was racing and his breathing was erratic. Draco pulled off his softening erection and came back up the bed so they were face to face again. He looked unsure if Harry would kiss him after what he’d just been doing, so Harry took the initiative. He leant forwards and poured all his emotions into the kiss, tasting his own semen in Draco’s mouth, which wasn’t nearly as repulsive as he thought it would be.

“Understand now why people like sex?” Draco asked cockily, once the kiss ended. Harry didn’t reply; his reaction to the unbelievable blowjob was all the confirmation Draco had needed. He snaked his hand between Draco’s legs where Draco’s still-erect shaft was begging for attention, but Draco pulled his hand away.

“I’m not done with you yet, Potter,” he breathed into Harry’s ear. “First I’m going to get you hard again, and then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you deep, and slow, until you no longer remember even your own name. I’m going to watch you come for me again, and I’m not going to come until you do.”

Harry moaned. He couldn’t stop himself. And despite the fact he had just come, he felt the definite stirrings of renewed arousal in the pit of his stomach. He’d never come twice in one session before, but he had the suspicion that was about to change.

“Roll onto your front, Harry,” Draco ordered. “And trust me.” Harry heard Draco cast two spells; one conjured a small phial of massage oil, and the other-

“What was that?” Harry yelped, as the magic crackled on his skin and he felt a jolt in his stomach.

“Cleansing spell,” Draco replied, but didn’t elaborate. Harry felt himself blush as he realised what the spell did, but this was instantly forgotten when Draco rubbed a small amount of oil, warmed perfectly to body temperature, into his shoulders, causing him to shiver. Draco massaged every muscle in his back, leaving Harry totally compliant, as he enjoyed the feel of Draco’s erection poking him suggestively every so often as the massage continued.

By the time Draco began to massage Harry’s buttocks, Harry’s member was already at half-mast again. And then, when Draco parted the cheeks and brushed a lubricated finger over the flesh within, his erection returned with full force, and Harry noticed he was instinctively pushing back on Draco’s finger, silently begging for more contact.

“Not yet,” Draco said, although his voice was cracking with want. “Soon. I promise.”

Draco continued the massage to Harry’s arse, and was kissing the small of his back as he did so.

“On your knees,” he said huskily to Harry suddenly, and Harry shifted his position, any moment of self-consciousness at being so exposed eradicated by the need to know what Draco was going to do next, and rested his chest and shoulders on the pillow. Draco continued the massage, but this time when he parted Harry’s cheeks, it was his tongue and not a finger that graced the skin within.

“Oh my fucking god,” Harry moaned into the pillow, and he heard Draco’s satisfied chuckle from behind him. “don’tfuckingstopohfuckthatsgood.”

Draco continued to flick his tongue across Harry, before pushing in just the smallest of fractions and swirling his tongue round in a circular motion. Harry could feel his muscles begin to relax as his arousal grew, and he could hear himself making all sorts of noises of approval. All too soon, Draco withdrew his tongue, and asked Harry to return to his back. Harry’s disapproval at the loss of contact didn’t last long, however, for Draco replaced his tongue with a freshly-slicked finger and slipped it inside Harry, all the whilst kissing his neck and chest, but refusing to allow Harry to touch him.

The initial discomfort Harry felt at having a foreign body inside him quickly morphed into pleasure as Draco crooked his finger and grazing against something inside Harry.

“That’s your prostate,” Draco said throatily. “And that is what makes bottoming so fucking incredible.” He added another finger, and continued to massage Harry’s sweet-spot, and Harry wondered if he could come from this alone, before Draco had even managed to enter him. Never in his wildest imagination had he imagined sex could feel this exquisite. But then again, Harry mused, he’d never contemplated sex with Draco Malfoy before, either.

“Are you ready?” Draco asked finally, and Harry nodded his head rapidly, not trusting himself to speak. Draco coaxed him onto his left side and lifted Harry’s right leg, placing it over his hip. “This burns at first, but it doesn’t last long.” He paused momentarily to slick his own erection again, then ever so gently pushed the head of his cock into Harry.

Draco was right, it did burn, and Harry hissed in pain. Draco instantly soothed him with a series of kisses to Harry’s neck and shoulder, licking on the spot behind Harry’s ear, as he pushed in further, pausing to allow Harry to adjust. Soon Draco was fully inside Harry, and the burning eased somewhat.

“How does that feel?” Draco asked. Harry felt his face flame.

“Um, it feels like I need the toilet, to be honest,” he replied, wondering when the prostate thing would come back into this and take away the discomfort and partial embarrassment. And then, Draco moved. Every so gently he pulled out of Harry as far as he dared before pushing back in, grazing that sweet spot once more, and Harry completely forgot about pain and awkwardness. His groan was all the encouragement Draco needed as he found his rhythm, his fingers gripping Harry’s hip tightly as he continued to press kisses to Harry’s back, shoulder and neck. Harry could hear his raspy panting in his ear and he knew this wasn’t going to last long for either of them.

He suddenly felt Draco’s rhythm speed up, and Harry knew Draco was close. Draco reached round with his hand and grabbed Harry’s erection, pumping it frantically in time with his thrusts. The combined stimulation to cock and prostate was too much and for the second time that night Harry’s world exploded in ecstasy, his entire body trembling as he came. Seconds later Draco’s thrusting faltered, he released a groan of his own as he, too, reached climax.

The two men lay together, panting and fighting for breath, for many minutes before Draco withdrew from Harry.

“That was unbelievably good,” Harry managed to say, although his voice still had a slight wavering to it.

“Agreed,” Draco replied. He reached over for Harry and the pair shared a long kiss- it was without heat and desperation, but it was long, slow and sensual. Everything a post-coital kiss should be, Harry thought. He felt his eyelids drooping, and was vaguely aware of Draco cleaning them both up with his wand.

“It’s nearly one. You should sleep, Harry. You have work in the morning,” Draco reminded him. Harry made a noise of displeasure at the realisation he had to get up in five hours’ time, but it dissolved immediately as Draco extinguished the lights and cuddled Harry close to him.

Yep. Completely and utterly, one-hundred percent gay, he thought to himself as he fell asleep, Draco’s light snores in his ear, and a huge grin on his face.

When he thought back to this night several weeks later, he thought he should have known his happiness was too good to last.
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In Loco Parentis