Freedom Bound in Chains | By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story. |
Chapter Warnings: dom/sub, breath play, podophilia (fetishism)
Thank you! For the comments: SlythindorMalfoy, DinaTheCat, Princey, FireAndPower, and fairytopian. It really, really helps me write. I look forward to any comments you may have on this chapter. It gave me a little trouble at the end. (wink)
Chains
Brendon hadn't been lying about being close. They were already turning into a low-ceilinged parking garage before they had a chance to really defrost. The sleek car slid smoothly into a spot directly under a light and camera with a sign that read “reserved”. Draco couldn't read, but he knew the sign meant “mine”.
Brendon climbed out of the car and opened the door for them again. Draco slid out first and took Harry's hand. The cold was like a slap in the face after the warmth, but he was quickly distracted by the sights. The street was lined with cars and people. Some looked how Draco had come to expect: dark clothes, a little flash of gold here and there, but there were some that made Draco's eyes wide in shock.
He saw whole groups of girls who wore sequined dresses or weird neon tights and big jackets and shoes that had almost twelve inches added to the bottom. Their hair was long and often in weird shapes and colors. Make-up was vibrant and verged on clown-ish. And there were guys who wore vibrantly colored jackets and frizzed out hair with big jewelry. They laughed and yelled on the street, running to cars or into and out of buildings. It was like a big party.
Brendon walked at a good pace, not fast enough to draw attention, but he didn't dally either. Draco noticed they got a few looks, but no one tried to stop them. Most of the people were lined up trying to get into the building with no windows and a steel door large enough to drive a car through. Draco assumed it was a club and that the black men who stood on either side of that door – taller and wider than any men Draco had seen before – acted as guards. To prove him correct, one of the guards opened a door that was person-sized and set flush into the larger door. It had been invisible until the guard opened it, and 80s rock poured into the street.
Brendon slid through the crowd and gave a salut and grin to the guards. Both men nodded their heads, but Brendon didn't go through their door. Instead he went a few feet down to a screen of black metal bars and mesh. Brendon flashed Draco a smile and crouched to unlock the padlock at the bottom. He flung the screen up; it rattled all the way and banged once it reached the top. Behind it was another door made of metal that took a second key. Draco hurried Harry inside; Brendon shut the steel door behind them with a clang.
Music seeped through the walls loud enough Brendon had to shout to be heard. “Apartment is up,” he said, gesturing to the stairs two steps in front of them. His other hand gestured to a very narrow hallway that led to stairs that went down. “Basement is for private parties. You'll be in charge of keeping that clean.”
Draco said nothing. He shivered, still cold, and watched Brendon's every move. The man just flashed a smile and climbed up the stairs to the apartment. There was another door, this time wooden with a peep hole. Another set of keys. Then they were inside and wrapped in warmth once more.
Draco stood just inside the door. The living room was open with low furniture in weird shapes. There was a bookshelf and a big, boxy tv encased in dark wood. Rugs covered the glossy wooden floors, also in weird shapes. There was a lot of grey and white in the room, but the wood floors and hints of deep purple gave the place color. A kitchen was off to the left. Draco could just make out a refrigerator and some white cupboards over a counter-top with bar stools.
Brendon dropped his keys in a bowel on a tall table next to the door. “I'll show you the bath. Take your time. It'll be at least thirty minutes before the food gets here.”
Draco followed the man silently across the living room and down a hallway. There was art on the walls, photographs of people screaming or splashed with colored-paint. When they weren't head shots, Draco noticed they were all naked.
“My room's at the back. I keep that locked. Here's the bathroom,” Brendon pointed to a door with fogged glass squares. “Right next to it is the guest room. I got my own bathroom, so this will mostly be yours unless I have people over for drinks or something. The door across from your room is the office. That's locked, too. There's a small laundry room off the kitchen. I'll show that to you later. Small place, but it will do for now.”
Draco gave a sharp nod and stared at Brendon, willing him to leave. The man gave another of his grins and went back toward the living room. Draco took Harry's hand and pulled him inside the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
The bathroom was narrow, but it had a long, deep tub with a shower head on the right and a sink and toilet on the left. A closet between the door and sink revealed a small space where towels and such were kept. Absolutely everything in the room was white.
Draco turned from his explorations to see Harry staring at him expectantly with wide, anxious eyes. The orange sweatshirt hung past the boy's knees and fell off the shoulders, but the sleeves were tied around his neck to hold it on and keep him warmer. It looked like a strange, dirty dress. Draco focused on the boy's feelings and was awash in a wild mix of fear guilt hunger pain. He sighed and took the boy's face in his hands. He gently kissed those soft lips.
Harry whimpered and clung to Draco's sweatshirt, his mouth opening in need. Draco laved his mouth with his tongue, slowly licking and sucking until the swirl of the boy's emotions stilled with simple pleasure love. Draco pulled away.
Smiling as he thumbed Harry's swollen red lips, he used his other hand to turn on the water. “We're gonna take a bath together and it's gonna feel good,” he said, hoping to reassure the boy.
Massive guilt anxiety swirled up through Harry once more, and Draco began to suspect what the guilt stood for. He was instantly furious, though not at Harry. He hated whoever did this to his sweet boy.
Being in the Hold was like a whole different world, but now that they were in a house-like place, it brought back everything Harry had been taught. And Draco could imagine what people who convinced Harry his name was Freak had taught the boy to think. Things like: Freaks don't eat, don't get a bath, don't get to be human. Harry said he could cook, so Freaks probably did all the cooking and cleaning, too. Well, Draco wouldn't stand for it!
Calmly, with all the rage trapped inside so Harry wouldn't see it, he fisted the boy's hair hard enough to capture Harry's complete attention and stared into those anxious green eyes, hoping to impress how serious he was. “You're not Freak anymore. Remember? You're Harry. You're mine.”
relief pain sorrow hope love - “Yes, Draco,” Harry answered in a whisper, tears falling from his eyes.
Draco touched Harry's lips once more. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I'm yours,” Harry repeated, a surge of gratitude followed, but Draco knew it hadn't really sunk in.
He released Harry and focused on the bath. He made it warm, but not too hot, and stopped the drain. Then he stripped out of the sweatshirt and turned to Harry and stripped him naked. The boy was shorter than him and skinnier. Draco would have to be very mindful to make sure Harry ate enough, especially since it seemed healing took all the extra weight Harry had.
They climbed into the tub together and Harry actually gasped in surprise as he sank up to his chest in the warm water probably for the first time in his life. His eyes were huge in his head and his emotions cut at Draco. They were a storm so tangled that Draco couldn't tell one thing from the next.
Eyes half-lidded, Draco had a suddenly brilliant idea. Can I have your hand? he asked straight into Harry's mind.
Harry instantly lifted his right hand and gave it to Draco. Draco smiled at him sweetly. He let the boy hold his hand there, reaching for Draco, as he soaped the washrag that had been sitting on the shelf. Then he gently took the small hand and began to wash all the dirt, dried sweat, and grime that had accumulated on it.
He washed every finger, every nail. He made sure to drag it softly over every inch of skin until he could feel Harry's anxiety turn into pleasure. Then, just when Harry felt relaxed and calm, he pinned the boy with an intense look.
That's mine now. My skin. My fingers. My hand. You gave it to me.
Harry felt like Draco was putting a spell on him. He sat in the warm water, feeling light and good, feelings he wasn't allowed to feel, which made him feel bad. But Draco's eyes were silver. They burned inside him, and Draco's voice rang inside his head.
Can I have your arm? Draco asked, again choosing to speak deep in Harry's mind.
Flushed and wide-eyed, Harry held out his arm.
Draco washed it gently and carefully. When it was clean, he stared into Harry's eyes. Your arm is mine now. Not yours.
Harry gasped and began to tremble, hardly able to comprehend Draco wanting anything of his.
Draco asked for every part of his body. His other hand and arm, shoulders, and neck. He asked for Harry's chest, his stomach, back, hips. Harry gave him everything. His privates, his butt, his legs, his feet. Harry gave them over.
Can I have your lips and cheeks? Draco asked at last.
“Yes! Yes, Draco,” Harry rasped. Giving it all away was the most amazing thing he'd ever done. It felt like flying, like freedom.
Draco ran the cloth softly over Harry's mouth and chin and cheeks. Then Draco cupped his hands and let the semi-clean water wash the soap away. Harry closed his eyes in painful anticipation for the next part.
They're mine now. You gave them to me.
Harry whimpered, his relief so powerful that he was sobbing now. He was almost all Draco's.
Can I have your eyes and ears?
“Yes, Draco. Please,” Harry practically begged.
Draco ran the cloth over Harry's eyes and around his ears, and then he slowly rinsed the soap off. Harry held his breath and waited for it. Your eyes are mine. Your ears are mine. You gave them to me.
His heart raced and he couldn't catch his breath. His whole body tingled and shivered, the anticipation almost painful. All Harry had left was his hair and he didn't even let Draco ask for it, he was so desperate for all of himself to be Draco's.
“It's yours! I give it to you,” he said breathlessly, bowing his head, giving Draco everything.
Draco soaped his hair and scratched at Harry's scalp. Harry shivered, shocked at the little zips of pleasure. He practically melted into Draco's hands, and Draco had to prop him up so he didn't sink into the water. It went on for a long time and Harry felt everything disappear except for Draco and peace.
Will you give me your life?
Harry lifted his head and stared into shining silver. Draco's cheeks were red and he was breathing a little quickly. Harry knew he was making Draco feel good and that was such a happy thought that Harry wiggled.
“Yes, Draco. I'm yours,” he answered with a burst of joy love trust singing in his heart.
Draco reached forward and slowly pushed him backwards so that Harry had to scoot his butt toward Draco in the tub and let his legs wrap around his waist. Draco kept pushing until the boy was under the water.
You gave me everything, Harry. You're mine now. You're a part of me and I love you. I promise to take care of you, and I'm going to make you happy, Harry.
Harry stared up at the surface, entranced by Draco's rippling face looming over him on the other side of the water. He felt calm, at peace. His heartbeat slowed, his vision clouded at the edges. Draco was watching him – always watching him. Draco wanted him when no one else did. Draco promised to love and take care of him. It was all he ever wanted.
All those years of dreaming and wanting with everything he had, it was finally true. He finally had someone to truly belong to. And as Harry's lungs began to burn, all the voices – Uncle's, Aunt's, Dudley's – they slowly went dark. Harry no longer belonged to them. He was Draco's completely.
Draco was amazing. He was perfect. Nothing of Draco's could be dirty, so Harry couldn't be dirty. He was new. He was clean. His body jerked; his lungs spasmed and water poured in. Even as his vision began to go black, Harry lay still in Draco's hands, pinned by those commanding grey eyes.
Harry's powerful acceptance and submission almost overwhelmed Draco. He panted hard and fast, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders as he leaned over his boy, pressing him down under the water. The beautiful boy truly gave over his life, not fighting at all even as he began to spasm and pass out, and Draco felt such powerful love, he almost couldn't bare it!
Draco finally yanked Harry up out of the water and ordered him sharply to breathe. Harry gasped and choked and coughed up water. Draco carefully rubbed his back and let Harry hang over the side until he got his breath back.
Love you love you love you, he chanted in Harry's mind.
A wave of love happy peace radiated back at him.
Draco pressed himself to Harry's back and kissed at his jaw and neck. He never wanted to let go of his Harry. He wanted to keep him safe and warm right here in the bath. Harry was pliant in his arms and arched in sleepy pleasure, tilting his head so Draco had more access.
Harry went limp, dizzy and euphoric as Draco's lips pressed into his skin in little butterfly kisses. He felt safe and loved. In his cupboard, he'd dreamed of his parents coming back for him, dreamed for so long, and it felt just like this. He was floating and warm, air sweet in his lungs as he stared dreamily up, hair hanging wet around his face. He was Draco's.
Draco licked and sucked and kissed. His hands reached forward and rubbed gently at Harry's nipples, and Harry's head fell back on Draco's shoulder, a moan of pure pleasure escaping his lips. Draco nipped at his ear and pulled away. He could smell food, and as much as he wished they could stay here forever, Draco had promised to take care of Harry.
“Help me wash,” he ordered. “I think dinner's here.”
Harry turned with such a happy look that Draco gave a shy smile. With great enthusiasm, Harry washed Draco. He made sure every inch was clean, and he was so excited to do it that Draco felt his whole body tingle. He still wasn't used to anyone genuinely caring about him. It was why he fell in love with the boy in the first place.
After everything was washed, Draco rinsed his hair himself and came out of the water with a laugh. He just felt so damn light and happy, Harry's emotions singing along inside him, making him fly. He practically glomped Harry, catching the little boy in the corner of the tub. Draco attacked his mouth, kissing him soundly and deeply, and Harry flung his little arms around his neck holding on tightly.
Mine, Draco practically growled in the boy's head.
joy relief love pleasurepleasurepleasure
Draco had to pull himself away before he let things build to that peak of pure ecstasy that Harry had introduced him to.
Grinning, he stood and stepped out of the bath. He grabbed a towel and held it out for Harry. The boy went into it with a happy giggle, practically rubbing himself all over the fluffy cloth. Draco laughed and tried to dry the wiggling boy as much as possible. Once Harry was mostly dry, he did a quick rub down himself, wrapped them both up, and stepped outside.
The apartment smelled delicious, salty and sweet at the same time. They found Brendon sitting on a big pillow on the floor, a plate on the low coffee-table in front of him. The tv was on and a show was playing with group laughter echoing in the background. Two plates were sitting next to him and two more pillows were on the floor.
Draco hurried Harry to the table.
Brendon flashed them a smile. “It's not hot, but it's still good.”
Draco took the seat next to the man, putting Harry on the outside where it was safest. Harry was staring at one of the cartons that looked to hold slimy-looking food. Draco tasted a bite of everything before letting Harry eat. It was weird, some of it was tangy, some salty, some sweet, but it was food and they were starving. It was gone in minutes.
Draco eyed the containers at the center of the table, Brendon's leftovers.
Brendon caught him looking and pushed them over. “I'm done. I'm going to go down to the club for a bit. I put some clothes on the bed in your room. We'll talk details tomorrow.” He stood and stretched before heading toward the door.
Draco watched him go. He didn't relax until he heard the door lock, then turned back to the food and pushed it at Harry. “Eat as much as you can. Until you think your stomach will pop.”
Harry nodded and happily scooped out more rice and veggies. “Yes, Draco.”
Draco stroked his damp hair. “Good boy.”
happy pride love
As Harry ate, Draco leaned his back against the couch and just let the moment sink in. He was out of the Hold, Harry was with him, and they were in a warm apartment with full bellies. They had a room and a bathroom. Things were good.
Finally all the food was gone and Harry pressed against his side in sleepy contentment. Draco smiled at the boy and stood, pulling Harry to his feet. They walked silently down the hall and to the bedroom Brendon had said was theirs. The tv was left on behind them to chatter.
The bedroom door was heavy and had a lock on the inside to keep people out. It swung open to reveal a room done in blues and greens. The floor was wooden with sea green rugs. The large bed sat a little to the side and had a fluffy sapphire comforter with sheets and pillows a darker blue. The headboard was made of wood and was carved in intricate swirls. Jadedly, Draco thought it would be perfect for tying someone to the bed.
There was a nightstand next to the bed painted a soft, sage green. A big brass lamp sat there and filled the room with soft clear light. The only other two pieces of furniture were a big ornate, wooden armoire that had forest green leaves and vines painted all across it and a small bookcase, which was painted to match perfectly. Even the books – all hard cover – had bindings in shades of blue and green.
The curtains that hung open around the single window were a dark emerald green, only a few shades darker than Harry's eyes. Draco let the door shut behind them and locked it before moving to look outside. Harry stood at his shoulder and looked with him down into the street. The crazy party-goers were still bunched up close to the building. Some were leaving the club, some were still trying to get in.
Draco unhooked the curtains and let them fall closed. He took Harry's hand and pulled him toward the bed. It was glorious. The comforter was velvet and stuffed with something soft, and the sheets were a cotton/silk blend. Draco smiled as Harry laughed in delight and spread his arms and legs, dragging them slowly across the softness.
joy love pleasure – broke over Draco like a sunrise.
Breath catching in his throat, Draco felt his lips begin to tremble and he covered his face in surprise as sobs rose from deep in his gut. Harry sat up with wide eyes – worry love – and touched his face with gentle fingertips.
“Draco. Love you, Draco. Love you,” Harry whispered – lovelovelovelovelove.
Draco pulled him close and curled around the smaller boy. He shook and trembled and wept deep wracking sobs. Harry stroked his arms and shoulders, everywhere he could reach while Draco held him so desperately.
After several moments, Draco dragged himself back under control, still not sure what had come over him. He wiped at his face roughly and uncurled. With gentle hands on Draco's face, Harry lifted Draco's head and met his eyes. Draco's breath caught at the adoring look.
“Please, Draco,” Harry whispered, barely audible. His fingers brushed Draco's bruised cheek and busted lip. “Please,” he begged, holding Draco's gaze.
Draco dipped his chin, giving permission, and this time it was Harry pressing him back. Draco lay on the soft sheets, his head cradled by a soft pillow with tears still slowly falling. Harry lay on his chest, his legs entwined with Draco's. The boy sighed, pleasure love – rising up as Harry brought his mouth to Draco's skin.
Eyes fluttering closed, Draco lay limp, just letting Harry take care of him as the boy began to lick ever so softly over his lips. Little swipes that tickled and tingled. Their sighs mingled, slightly damp and oh so warm. Then Harry moved to his cheek, sucking softly over the bruise, but it didn't hurt. It felt so good that Draco gave a long, low moan. He slid his hand up Harry's back and into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
Harry arched like a cat, his mouth coming away from Draco. Eyes heavy-lidded, he stared down at Draco. The bruises were gone. His lips were perfect and whole, his cheeks flushed only with a blush of pleasure, and Harry knew in that moment that he'd never do anything more important in his whole life than heal Draco.
Heart singing as Draco moaned and gasped, crystal tears still shimmering on his cheeks, Harry slid down to latch onto Draco's tender shoulder where the bullet scar was. Draco arched, his hand now pressing Harry more firmly against him. Harry sucked hard.
Draco's eyes flew open and he gave a long cry. “Harry... yes, oh...” he gasped, head tossing as waves of hot pleasure built higher and higher.
Harry moaned into Draco's skin. He pressed his tongue flat to the mark and sucked. Every gasp and moan Draco gave set Harry's blood on fire. Down in his gut, his nipples, even his toes, Harry was on fire. The heat poured out from his mouth and into Draco's shoulder, and Harry let it flow out of him, all of it. It was Draco's. All of him was Draco's.
Draco felt himself rush over the edge of pleasure and screamed as his whole body tensed in ecstasy. Harry echoed his cry but softer. When Draco could see again, he stared up at his boy. Harry was straddling Draco's waist, panting with swollen lips and fluffy hair. He was so beautiful, and Draco offered him a blissed out smile as he lay limp and tingling in the aftermath.
Harry slid down Draco's body, his fingers brushing the boy's skin. They skimmed over the pink nipples, along the ribs, across the stomach. He wanted to touch every inch, wanted to taste it. He ducked low and let his lips every so softly drag along the path his fingers blazed. Draco made the most amazing sound, almost like a purr.
Harry continued down over the thighs and knees, down the shins. His fingers caught on torn skin and he sat up quickly. Draco's feet were torn and weeping in some places. Carefully, heart pounding, Harry lifted Draco's leg and brought his mouth to the sole of Draco's foot. He lapped at the sensitive skin there, dragging his tongue across the rips and tears.
Draco bunched his hands in the sheets and arched with a gasp as Harry's little tongue slid between his toes. Green eyes impossibly bright, Harry opened his mouth wide and took all five tiny toes into his mouth. Draco stared, heart thumping, hardly breathing, as Harry's lips stretched tight and his boy made little bobbing motions that went right to Draco's core.
Harry sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing.
“Harry!” Draco cried, skin beginning to sizzle again.
Harry hummed and Draco nearly lost it.
“Shit!” Draco shoved his hand into his mouth and bit down, choking back screams.
Harry licked and sucked and scrapped his teeth along every toe. He let his tongue wiggle between them; other times pressing his tongue flat as he sucked hard. Draco was writhing on the sheets by the time Harry started in on the other foot. He felt the wave of blinding pleasure wash through him a second time and he was lost.
It went on and on, Harry's tongue and lips keeping him on that crest for an eternity. He was barely conscious by the time he felt Harry crawl up next to him. Draco turned on his side and flung an arm over the boy. Harry murmured something sweet, and Draco sat up just long enough to pull the comforter over them both. Almost instantly they tumbled into a deep, healing sleep wrapped tightly in each others arms.
Chapter end.
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