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A Secondary Education	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27880 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Hello my darlings! This chappie has been a couple of weeks in the making, I know, but I am writing a whole other fic plus working a full time job and spending quality time with loved ones, so, you know, what's a girl to do?
Thanks to my regulars for reviewing as always!
Lesson 7: Delayed Gratification
“I think some of the students here have a crush on you,” Pansy remarked as they walked down the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, passing a large group of fourth and fifth years that were congregating at the entrance to Zonko’s Joke Shop.
Draco looked over his shoulder at them to see that many were following Draco and Pansy with their eyes, and some were giggling and whispering to each other behind their hands.
“It’s not that,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. “They probably just think you’re my girlfriend or something, and that’s got them all in a tizzy, bloody gossips that they are.”
Pansy let out a dry peal of laughter, and Draco couldn’t help but smile, realizing how much he’d missed that sound.
“Come on, I heard of a little bistro around the corner that the students never go to. French fare, too expensive for them, I think.”
“Sounds lovely,” she replied.
It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term, nearing close to Halloween already, and Draco had been lucky enough to avoid chaperone duty this time around, meaning he was free to take Pansy up on the tentative plans to have lunch in the village together. Draco appreciated her willingness to come to him, since it was a very busy time in the term for the teachers as they prepared to administer mid-term exams. And what time wasn’t taken up with designing his exams and marking the weekly homework was used to enjoy time with Harry.
They came to their destination, a cozy little restaurant called L’Oiseau Bleu. A waiter greeted them cordially and led them to one of the small square tables covered in a clean white tablecloth, set simply but tastefully with pale blue napkins and a small vase of flowers.
“I like the look of this,” Pansy remarked as the waiter scurried off to fetch them some water. “I had no idea this was here.”
“It’s post-war, as I understand it,” Draco said. “So it wasn’t here back when we were students.”
“How did you hear about it?”
“A colleague of mine recommended it.” It just so happened that that colleague was Harry, after Draco mentioned that he wanted to take Pansy somewhere nice, to avoid both the crowds and the questionable cuisine at the Three Broomsticks. But Draco thought it best not to share that detail, lest it lead to a whole round of questions.
The waiter came with their water then, as well as menus, and they took some time to peruse, occasionally commenting on dishes they thought looked particularly delicious. Draco was trying to decide between the steak frites and the duck with foie gras sauce when he sensed Pansy’s gaze and looked up to see her eyeing him over her menu.
“You look good, Draco,” she said. “Happy.”
Draco was taken aback, but didn’t let that show on his face as he merely frowned thoughtfully and replied, “I’m getting there, at any rate.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m glad to see it. You look better than I expected.”
Draco lowered his menu, giving her a mock-offended look. “You thought I would be some sort of emotional train wreck, is that it?”
The witch gave a small scoff. “Nothing so dramatic,” she said. “Though you’re still a bit sensitive, I see.” But then she saw his playful grin and her face softened. “Teaching suits you, apparently.”
“It does. I quite enjoy it. Very difficult, sometimes draining, work, but even on the days that are more frustrating I have other teachers I can vent to. Camaraderie among the staff is very high. I’ve even made a few friends.”
“Well that’s good to hear. Anyone special?”
Draco arched an eyebrow at her.
“Any prospects, you know, of a… romantic nature?” she clarified, not that Draco needed it. He’d known what she meant; he just intended to play dumb about it.
“Not at the moment,” he said mildly.
“Ah, well… you’re surrounded by old, academic types, I suppose. Doesn’t leave much by way of options.”
“Not all of them. There’s some younger staff as well. In fact, Francesca Bianchi, who was only a few years our senior when we were at school with her, is the Transfiguration Professor and head of Slytherin house. She’s quite lovely.”
Pansy grinned like cat with a canary. “Oh, she’s ‘quite lovely,’ is she? And you said there was no one special.”
“It’s not like that,” Draco said.
“Mm-hmm,” the witch replied skeptically. “All right, if you insist.”
“I do.”
“I just think there’s no shame in seeking out another’s affections. I realize you haven’t been officially divorced long, but after what that awful woman did to you, you hardly need to worry about waiting out of propriety or some such nonsense.”
“It’s not shame or propriety that’s holding me back.”
Pansy gave him a surprised look, but their waiter had arrived to take their order and she didn’t have the opportunity to reply. They ordered food and a bottle of wine (“I’m off duty,” Draco insisted, when Pansy asked with merely the suggestive tilting of her head), and the waiter bowed and said “Very good” before flitting away and leaving them to themselves.
“Draco.”
“Yes?”
“What is it that’s holding you back?”
“I’m just not ready yet.”
“Ready for what?”
“A relationship. Dating,”
The woman thought that over, and Draco watched her as he sipped his water. She had grown into her own quite nicely by the time she’d come of age. In her youth her face had been pinched and her mouth a bit twisted, as if she were wearing a perpetual scowl. But much of that had smoothed out during puberty, and the hint that remained suited her, making her look serious and thoughtful. She would never have the fair and delicate beauty of the Greengrass sisters or the sultry allure of a woman like Francesca, but Draco liked that about her. Her face had personality and an unconventional appeal, made all the more interesting by her wicked and unexpected sense of humor.
Though Draco had never pined for Pansy himself, he couldn’t help but think Theo a lucky man. His wife was striking, intelligent, and, above all else, fiercely loyal. Draco could only hope to find the same one day.
“Are you interested in something casual?” she was asking him now, making him focus back on the conversation. “I imagine something could be arranged. I know a fair few single witches these days, most of them not pureblood, mind you, but if you’re willing to look past that…”
“I don’t much care about blood status,” he said. “Perhaps when I’m looking for something permanent, if only to avoid the inevitable rigmarole by parents would put me through if I tried to choose a half-blood for a wife.”
“Or a Muggleborn?” Pansy sounded slightly incredulous, as if she still wasn’t sure he would entertain such an idea, even hypothetically.
“Or a Muggleborn,” Draco echoed.
It was hard to tell if he had shocked Pansy or not, because she merely blinked at him. “It’s settled then,” she said finally. “I’ll find a nice witch for you to shag – I mean date… casually –“ she inserted, one eye closing in the smallest of winks. “Something to tide you over until you’re ready for something more serious.”
Draco shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”
“But you just agreed that-“
“I agreed to nothing,” Draco interrupted, keeping his tone light and a small smile on his face. “I merely said if I wanted something casual, blood status would be no object. I didn’t say I was interested in you matching me up with someone.”
“But why not?”
“Because I don’t need it.”
“Like hell you don’t.” She leaned forward in her chair in order to study him more closely, but their wine arrived then, and she had to lean back again so the waiter could place their glasses in front of them and serve the wine with a showy flourish.
Draco could feel Pansy’s eyes on him, but he gave the waiter his full attention, thanking him with a murmur when the fragrant ruby liquid was finally poured and tasted for approval. When he met Pansy’s eyes again, they were full of curiosity.
“You’ve already found someone, haven’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” Draco took another sip of his wine.
“Because you like sex, and you wouldn’t go without it if you had a choice. And given what a charming, handsome devil you are, I imagine finding a very willing, if not casual, bed partner would be no hardship at all, as long as you’re looking in earnest.”
“But I’m not looking,” Draco countered.
“Well, no, not anymore, not that you’ve already found someone.”
“Your circular logic is making me dizzy.”
“Why are you being so coy, Drakey dearest?”
“Don’t call me that,” he replied with a roll of his eyes.
“Is it something scandalous?” she went on, ignoring him. “Is she married or something?”
Draco felt his face harden. “How can you even suggest such a thing? As if I would ever…” He couldn’t finish the thought.
Pansy opened her mouth then closed it again, looking genuinely chastened. “My apologies. I was just having a bit of fun. But that was in poor taste. I got carried away.”
Draco considered making a meal out of the faux pas, if only to avoid further discussion on the matter of his mystery lover, but in the end decided he didn’t want to be that Slytherin today. He didn’t want to turn their lunch together into something unpleasant.
“It’s all right,” he said softly.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know.”
There was silence for a minute or two, in which Pansy looked actually rather distressed that she had upset him. He reached across the table and put a hand on hers.
“It’s fine, really. Let’s just talk about something else, shall we? How’s Gideon?”
Pansy gave him a grateful smile at the mention of her son. “He’s wonderful.” Her smile tilted into a smirk. “Well, actually, he’s a little terror. But we love him anyway.”
Draco laughed. “My understanding is that two-year-olds evoke that feeling in most parents.”
“Indeed they do.” She took a sip of her wine. “He misses his godfather, you know. I’d understand if you weren’t up for it, but…”
“Why don’t I come for a visit during the holidays?” Draco suggested.
She smiled sweetly at him. “That would be lovely.”
Their appetizer arrived, and talk turned to Theo and his business. By the time their main course was served they’d moved into the latest pureblood gossip, which Draco had been out of the loop on for the past few months.
He thought he might manage to make it through the meal without another mention of his sex life, but Pansy did manage to bring the conversation back around that way, just as they were finishing their final bites of duck and sips of wine.
“If you’re going to insist on keeping the identity of the person you’re currently sleeping with a secret, then I can live with that,” she said. “But at least admit it’s happening, for my sake. I just like to know you’re happy.”
“I am happy.”
“And does another person have something to do with that?” she pressed.
Draco hesitated. “Many people do. My students, my colleagues, my friends…” He tilted his wine glass at her, and she accepted the tribute, though she was clearly waiting for him to continue. He sighed. “And there is someone satisfying my other needs as well. But it isn’t serious, and it’s better for both of us if we don’t discuss it with anyone. It’s not going to last anyway. The limitations on the relationship are well understood.”
Pansy rested her chin on her hands. “Well, this is intriguing. Will I get to learn who it is some day, at least?”
“Perhaps,” Draco said, remaining coy. He wasn’t going to make any promises. Much of it depended on whether he decided to continue to date men after his liaisons with Harry were finished. And the rest depended on if he could ever bring himself to admit, even to his closest friends, that it was Harry Potter of all people who had introduced him to his homosexual side.
Although perhaps, he thought as he watched his friend across the table, the look of pure shock it would bring to Pansy’s face would be enough to make it worth it.
***
She would be shocked, Draco thought as he munched on a chocolate biscuit and sipped at his tea, if Pansy could see me now.
He’d been having such thoughts frequently since his lunch with her, realizing how many of his habits and hang-ups had altered in the short time he’d been involved with Harry.
For example, he had now taken to eating in bed (actually eating, even foods like biscuits that made a lot of crumbs), a habit that Draco kept meaning to insist to Harry was barbaric, but didn’t, for some reason, perhaps because there was something enticing about the way Harry’s throat bobbed when he swallowed and Draco found himself distracted from making his admonishments whenever he caught sight of it.
Draco finished his tea, dusted biscuit crumbs from his person, and excused himself to use the loo. Harry watched him idly from the bed as he walked away, clad in nothing but a pair of dark boxer briefs.
They were both in nothing but their pants. Harry had insisted on it, saying it was all a part of the “lazy Sunday” experience.
Draco’d never had such a Sunday in his life, something that made Harry gape at him in mock horror when he admitted it. Draco went on to insist that lazy Sundays weren’t actually a thing, but rather something Harry had made up just because that was the sort of thing Harry did.
And Harry had gone on to say that just because they were made up didn’t make them any less enjoyable, for which Draco had no reasonable argument.
So here they were, nearly naked, lounging, reading, having tea and biscuits in bed, and fooling around when they could muster the energy.
Draco used the loo and then stopped by the sink to wash his hands, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror. His gaze lingered incredulously over his disheveled hair and the shameless love bites on his neck before shifting to his mouth, where he caught a bit of chocolate nestled into the cleft of his lower lip. Barbaric, he thought as he licked it away.
Barbaric, yes, but also… delicious.
When he made his way back into the bedroom he saw that Harry had donned his glasses again and was reading something in the back pages of that morning’s Prophet. Draco rested a shoulder against the doorway and watched him, the way his lithe body hunched over the newspaper, as if what he was reading was so fascinating he almost needed to dive into the page to get the full experience. His lips were parted as his eyes darted over the words, his brow twitching occasionally.
The scene gave Draco a strange kind of pang in his gut, something that might have been homesickness.
He knew there would be unavoidable closeness when he started sleeping with Harry, but he had never expected this much… intimacy.
It seemed to come with the territory. Harry had a way of dismantling barriers, blurring the boundary lines while Draco wasn’t paying attention. Draco knew he would have to be more careful with that going forward. If Harry was going to insist on smudging those lines, Draco would just have to redraw them occasionally, so they knew where they stood.
It would also help if things moved along a little. It would remind Draco this wasn’t a relationship but a mentorship, a learning experience. Harry had been insisting on taking things slow, and they still hadn’t gotten past getting each other off with their hands. Not that those experiences hadn’t been enjoyable (Harry could be very creative with his fingers), but this was still too slow for Draco’s liking.
“Unbelievable,” Harry said under his breath, shaking his head. He refolded the newspaper.
“What were you reading?” Draco asked, coming into the room and taking a place next to Harry in the bed.
“Just an article about an investigation Ron is wrapping up. I haven’t talked to him in a while so I thought I might get some information on it from the Prophet. But they clearly have their facts wrong. I’ll just have to floo call Ron about it sometime soon and get full story.”
“You two don’t owl when you’re at Hogwarts?”
“We do,” Harry said, taking off his glasses and placing them on his bedside table. “But he doesn’t share any details about his Auror cases through the post, just to be safe.”
“Of course,” Draco said, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that.
Harry gave him a lopsided smile and scooted closer. Draco watched him in silence as the brunet rolled to lie on top of him, pinning him to the bed by his hips (which made their groins rubbed together distractingly) and wrapping his arms around the back of Draco’s shoulders. He looked down at Draco with that same smile, his eyes tracing the contours of Draco’s face. The blond stared up at him, fingers brushing absently along Harry’s biceps and a question on his lips.
“When are you going to teach me how to suck a cock?” he blurted after a moment.
Harry’s eyes widened comically, but then he broke into a laugh. “Getting eager, are we? A little impatient?”
“I think I’ve been quite patient,” Draco said haughtily, “considering we haven’t moved past hands, which I figured out pretty well on my own.”
“Mm,” Harry said in what might have been agreement. “And you can’t do the same with your mouth?”
“You were the one who insisted on setting the pace, so I haven’t had the opportunity. And I do think a blowjob is likely harder to get right than a hand job, don’t you? There’s much more to know about proper technique, relaxing the throat, use of the tongue… I’m just waiting on your expert tips, that’s all.”
“Hmmm,” said Harry, tilting his head. “Seems to me you’re a bit fixated on technique.”
Draco frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s not really about that, is it? Expertise is no substitute for enthusiasm.”
Draco stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“An expert blowjob is all well and good, but if there’s nothing behind it… if a bloke can swallow me whole and suck with just the right pressure and never spill a drop and all that but he’s just going through the motions, like he’s done it a million times… it sort takes me out of it. I’d rather have someone who sucks my cock like they can’t help themselves, like it’s the most delicious thing they’ve ever tasted, even if they don’t have much experience. That’s just… so much hotter, you know? Feeling like a person really wants you?” He looked down at Draco for confirmation.
Draco smirked. “I didn’t realize this was a philosophy course I signed up for.”
Harry arched a brow. “Didn’t you?”
Draco considered that. Yes, he did want to learn to embody Harry’s philosophy when it came to sex. But he was expecting more than that. “I rather thought it would be a blend of theory and practicum. Seems to me I’m getting a lot of the theory without much practicum.”
Harry laughed. “I see. I’m just too philosophical then. And perhaps you’re a bit too technical. What a fine pair we make.”
“I’m saying there’s a balance. I can promise you that if I’m sucking your cock, I’m going to be enthusiastic.” He ran the arch of his foot up and down Harry’s calf, making the Gryffindor squirm and grind against him in a very delicious way. “But I’d also like to know what I’m doing. I’d like to know exactly what will make you feel the best you’ve ever felt. I want it to be incredible from start to finish, so good you don’t even have the brain power to think about my technique or if I’ve done it a million times before, you know? You just… feel.”
They were silent for a minute or two as Harry eyed him with what was unmistakably lust, but also something else, something considering, maybe curious. Then he smiled, a glint coming into his eye that Draco thought he recognized. Draco licked his lips. Was he about to get what he wanted?
“Let’s play a game,” Harry said.
“What sort of game?” Draco hedged.
Harry paused, a pensive glaze coming into his eyes. “Hold on, I’m thinking about how exactly this should work.”
“So you’ve never played this game before?”
“I’m making it up right now.” The Gryffindor chewed on his lip in thought for a moment. “All right, here’s how it works: I give you a blowjob…”
“I like where this is going so far,” Draco said, fighting his damnedest to keep a straight face.
“Wait, I’m not finished. I’m going to give you a blowjob, but you’re going to talk me through it from start to finish.”
Draco cocked an eyebrow, staring at him. “What?”
“I’m only going to do what you tell me to do, and no more than that. Every little thing, down to the smallest detail, is under your control.”
“Why?”
“You said you wanted to learn about giving a great blowjob. Well the best way to learn something isn’t always by doing. Sometimes it’s by feeling. How will you know what works and doesn’t work unless you feel it for yourself?”
“But I’ve had blowjobs before,” Draco argued. “Loads of times.”
“But not since you decided you might want to start giving blowjobs. That changes your whole perspective.”
Draco considered that. “It just seems – not that I’m actually going to argue against you sucking my cock, obviously – but it just seems too simple a game.”
“Simplicity can be deceiving,” Harry replied.
“How do I win? By coming? I feel like that’s inevitable.”
“No, not by coming. Your goal shouldn’t merely be an orgasm. Your goal is to…” Harry tapped on his mouth thinking about it. “Your goal is to get as much pleasure out of the blowjob before you come as possible.”
Draco had to admit, that idea was already getting him going. He really did like how Harry's mind worked, sometimes.
“Very well,” he said. “Let’s play.”
Harry’s face broke into a grin. “Excellent.” He lifted himself off Draco so he was kneeling before him, then stared at the Slytherin expectantly.
“So, how does it begin?” Draco asked.
“You tell me. You’re in charge here. I’m only here to serve you, Oh Blond One.” He bowed his head in mock reverence, making Draco snort.
“All right, then,” he said. “Take off your pants.”
Harry didn’t hesitate, only smiled, climbing off the bed momentarily to remove his navy briefs. With his half-hard cock exposed to the air he climbed back on, looking nothing but eager as he awaited Draco’s next instructions.
Draco was about to tell Harry to remove his pants as well, but decided he wanted something else first.
“Kiss me.”
“Where?”
Draco grinned, putting a finger to his own lips. “Here.”
Harry hovered over him again, lining their bodies up automatically, his mouth descending on Draco’s.
“Softly,” Draco added, when they were only inches apart.
Harry closed the distance, and the kiss was quite gentle, just the brushing of lips. Draco relished the light pressure, the way their noses nuzzled along each other as they deepened the kiss by tiny increments.
But he wanted contact along other parts of his body, and he realized he wasn’t going to get it unless he told Harry what he wanted.
“Brush your cock along my skin.”
Harry released a shaky breath, clearly rather liking that directive. “What part?”
“My thigh.” He bent his knee, exposing the pale, tender skin of his inner thigh to demonstrate.
Harry complied, and both men gasped at the sensation. Harry’s naked cock was twitching against Draco, getting harder by the moment, and Draco’s was responding, fighting against his underwear.
“Kiss my neck, on my pulse point.”
Harry’s lips descended, finding the right spot easily.
“Graze it with your teeth.”
Harry did, and even the threat of sharp pleasure was enough to make Draco shudder. Or perhaps it was the precum that was making a cool trail on his sensitive skin as Harry continued to tease Draco’s thigh with his cock.
“Bite, gently, then suck.”
He’d never thought of the logistics of giving – or receiving- a love bite, but this game was already making him think of all of it, step by step, not just that he wanted Harry to mark his skin, but how. The pull of Harry’s lips and tongue right there, right where his blood was pounding, went straight to his cock.
“Trace my collarbone with your teeth, then down to my nipple.” He cricked his neck in order to watch Harry follow his instructions, though he had to close his eyes a couple of times to control the trembling. Merely the light tickle of Harry’s breath shouldn’t feel that good.
Harry’s mouth hovered over Draco’s left nipple as he stared at the blond through his dark fringe, awaiting his orders.
“Kiss it.”
Merlin, those lips, the way they shaped perfectly around his sensitive nub. He could spend an eternity watching those lips tease his skin, feeling their softness on every part of him. And that tongue, too. Couldn’t forget the tongue.
“Lick it.”
That wet, pink muscle emerged, flicking the nipple.
“Trace it with your tongue. Yes, like that. Oh, fuck.”
The need was becoming too much, and he was arching, but arching into nothing but air.
“Brush my cock with your hand.” He needed just a little something to take the edge off, that was all.
But then Harry did as he was told, placing the palm of his hand just barely on the base of Draco’s fabric-clad shaft before gliding upward, toward the tip, which he teased with a couple of fingers for no more than an instant. And the fire was only stoked, and only grew.
“Oh, gods. Oh, fuck. Harry!” Draco squirmed as the brunet continued to work on that nipple with his mouth, trying in vain for some more friction. But he didn’t ask for what his cock was absolutely screaming for, not yet.
If Harry had been in charge, Draco would already be begging. He was sure of that. But knowing that the moment he commanded Harry to pull down his pants and put that cock in his mouth Harry would comply helped him maintain his sanity. He would get what he needed, meaning he was free to torment himself a bit longer, knowing it would make his eventual release that much sweeter. He reached a hand up, cupping Harry’s cheek. Harry’s lips pulled away from his nipple, and he stared at Draco with unmistakable hunger.
“And now?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Kiss me, from here,” Draco pointed to the inside of his right knee, “to here.” His finger trailed up his thigh, ending right at the edge of his underwear. Harry followed the path Draco was tracing with his eyes, then looked back at him, his smile purely carnal.
He likes following instructions, Draco noted, his bollocks tightening at the thought. What possibilities that left for the future.
And then Harry’s mouth descended on his skin again, and Draco had no focus left for thinking.
Harry took his time. Draco could have told him to go faster, but this is what he wanted, to feel the wet touch of lips inch closer and achingly closer to his groin. His arse flexed automatically, his erection reaching for a touch that hadn’t yet arrived, but this only made him harder and hotter. As he watched Harry’s slow ascent he noticed the wet spot in his pants growing by the second, his neglected cock weeping for attention.
So close, he reassured it silently. Just a little longer, and then it’s going to be so good.
Harry paused, his mouth lingering at the point Draco had indicated, his eyes looking up at the blond again in a silent question. What next?
Draco hesitated. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure he was capable of asking for it aloud. Harry waited, his breath a light, warm pulse on his covered bollocks.
Then he remembered who this was, where he was, and that he didn’t need to have inhibitions here. Harry wanted him to indulge, to say aloud all the dirty things he liked.
“Bury your face right here,” he said, pointing to his groin. “Inhale me.”
There was no hesitation, no judgment, only eager compliance. Harry put his nose right at the base of Draco’s erection and took a big sniff.
Harry groaned, then, so erotically that Draco said, without thinking. “That’s right, Harry. Can you smell that, how turned on I am?”
Harry groaned again.
“Run your nose along my cock, feel how hard it is.”
Harry did, still inhaling as he went.
“I’m so hard for you, Harry. Only you. Do you feel it?”
“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Fuck yes.”
“I can’t wait to be in your mouth.”
Harry hummed against his arousal.
“Do you want that, Harry? Do you want to suck my cock?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me how much you want it.”
“So much, Draco. I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thinking about taking you all the way in, as far as you’ll go, tasting every inch of you. Sucking you until you burst and licking you clean.”
“Fuck.” His mouth was right there, on his hardness, his words vibrations through the thin gray fabric. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Take off my pants. Do it.”
Harry clearly heard the urgency in Draco’s voice loud and clear, because he was swift, gripping the edges of the waistband and pulling down in one fluid motion.
Draco stared down at his liberated erection, gasping at how red and hard it really was.
Gods, this was fun. He didn’t want it to end.
“Suck on my bollocks,” he instructed, knowing that once Harry put the actual cock in his mouth, this wasn’t going to last much longer. “Suck one, getting it nice and wet, and then do the other.”
He spread his legs wide to give Harry access, and that felt almost as good, almost as dirty, as Harry’s mouth on him. To be wanton like this, exposed and shameless, reveling in pleasure, this was what he came to Harry for. This was what Harry was really teaching him.
“Tease my perineum,” he said, suddenly craving it. “Massage it with your thumb… yes.” He threw his head back. Every touch from Harry now, be it by mouth or hands, felt nearly orgasmic, like it could tip him over the edge any moment. “Oh, fuck, Harry! That’s so good. That’s so fucking good.”
Harry hummed his approval, and Draco decided he couldn’t take anymore. It was time for the main event, even if it only lasted ten seconds. It would still be the best ten seconds he’d ever felt.
“Run your lips up my cock.”
He was trembling with need at the sensation, at the way blood throbbed almost painfully against Harry’s mouth.
“And up the other side.”
Harry complied, his eyes closed, as if savoring it.
“Kiss the tip. Taste my precum.”
Harry supported himself on his elbows, his mouth only an inch away. He opened his eyes and looked at Draco, and held the gaze with burning heat as his lips parted, then wrapped lovingly around the domed head in a sensual kiss.
The feel of it was almost like coming, so close, in fact, that a desperate cry was ripped from Draco’s throat. He didn’t close his eyes, though. He kept them on Harry.
“Do it again,” he said. “But take more this time. Another inch.”
This was where the world existed, he realized. Everything had narrowed to those couple of inches and the lips that surrounded them, and the tongue that was tasting them.
“Swirl around the head with your tongue,” he practically begged, “then take me deeper, as deep as you can.”
That turned out to be pretty damn deep, Draco learned as he watched his cock disappear between those swollen pink lips. Harry paused momentarily, breathing deeply through his nose, but then kept going until Draco felt himself hit the back of Harry’s throat.
For all his talk about how expertise was overrated, Harry sure did know how to suck a cock. Not that Draco was surprised.
“Harry!” he mewled, teetering dangerously close to the brink. He wasn’t sure he was capable of more instruction. He didn’t even know what he wanted, only that he needed it. “Please, Harry! I can’t… I need… Gods, just make me come. I’m so close. I just need… fuck! I need…”
But Harry knew what he needed. His lips tightened around the base of Draco’s erection, and he moved up and down, slowly, giving Draco a little bit of friction, enough to get him good and primed. Then he took Draco as deep as he could again, gazing up at the blond with shining green eyes. And then he swallowed, and his throat tightened around Draco, and Draco – panting, staring into those green orbs – came in a series of intense, delicious pulses that Harry chugged like pumpkin juice.
Draco had no voice left to express this, this incredible pleasure, so he simply gaped at Harry in blissful shock, watching him take it all as Harry was watching him come.
Eventually, some eternity later, he was spent, and he lay back against the pillow, gasping for breath.
Where has this been all my life? He found himself wondering. Why had he spent so much of his adult life self-conscious about sex, wondering if he was doing, saying, feeling the right things? Why had it taken him so long to just exist like this, in the moment, loving sex for its own sake? He didn’t know.
He opened his eyes, ready to praise Harry for such a brilliant idea, but the words caught in his throat at the sight of Harry kneeling above him, stroking himself in a state of unhindered arousal.
“What are you doing?” he managed.
“That was the sexiest fucking thing I have ever done,” Harry said, his eyes boring into Draco’s. “I have to come.”
Draco shook his head. “Not like this.”
“What-“
But Harry never had a chance to finish, because Draco had mustered the strength to sit up, grab him around the middle, and toss him to the bed so he was lying on his back. He grabbed Harry’s hands and pinned them down, keeping him from touching himself.
“My turn,” he said, and dove right in.
He knew now wasn’t the time for teasing, so he took Harry’s cock right into his mouth, beyond thinking, beyond worrying. He simply sucked, and bobbed, and sucked some more, spurred on by the way Harry was squirming and sobbing under him. He took Harry as deep as he could, until he nearly choked, but then backed off, using his tongue and the tightening of his lips to continue to stimulate Harry. He didn’t have to learn how to deep throat a man in one lesson. For right now, with the small weight of Harry’s hand on his blond head, guiding him, gripping him, encouraging him, Draco knew his mere desire to do this was enough, and that Harry was going to come crying his name.
He sucked harder, one hand reaching to fondle Harry’s sac, and Harry moaned with abandon.
“I’m coming, Draco!” he cried. “Oh, Gods… fuck! I’m coming in your mouth!”
He was right, of course, and Draco breathed through his nose, ready for it. When Harry started coming in powerful spurts, Draco did his best to swallow the salty liquid, trying not to splutter as it hit the back of his throat. He managed well, for his first time, he thought, though he did have to release Harry when it became too much. He made sure to stroke Harry gently the rest of the way until the man was fully spent and moaning in satisfaction.
A stream of thick white cum was dripping down the side of Harry’s softening cock, and Draco looked at it curiously. Deciding he may as well start getting used to the taste of semen, he licked at it, cleaning Harry’s groin with his mouth the way Harry had talked about earlier.
When he’d gotten all of it he looked up to see Harry watching him with hooded eyes.
“Sweet Merlin, Draco,” the man said. “And I didn’t think you could get any sexier.”
Draco smiled at him, wiping a bit of cum from the corner of his mouth.
“Come here.”
Draco slid up Harry’s body, careful of their still sensitive members, but otherwise enjoying the feel of skin on skin. He kissed Harry, using his tongue, so they could each taste themselves.
“I told you,” Harry said, once Draco had lain down fully next to him. “Enthusiasm wins every time.”
“And taking your time,” said Draco. “Letting it build. I seriously… I’ve never had a blowjob so good in my life.” He looked at Harry. “Next time we should switch roles, so you can experience it yourself.”
“I feel like I did,” said Harry, “just watching and listening to you.” He rolled to face Draco, pulling the blond to him. He ran fingers lightly down Draco’s spine, and Draco nuzzled into his neck. “Stay for dinner.”
“Hm?”
“Let’s just have dinner here, together. Let’s just be here, together, for the rest of the evening, until you have to sneak back.”
Draco pulled back enough to meet his eyes. Harry was looking at him calmly, peacefully, a hand running lightly through his blond hair.
Draco could feel those barriers, those lines, smudging again, so much so that he couldn’t remember where exactly they’d been drawn in the first place. But at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Later, when he’d come back to his senses, he’d figure it out and draw them back where they belonged.
For now, though, he could simply kiss Harry, and murmur “yes,” and be content to drift through an afternoon with no barriers at all.
LadyShire: I’m trying not to be naughty with cliffies! But apparently I can’t help it. Surely this doesn’t count as a cliffy, does it?
I hope you are still enjoying this continuous build. It’s still in the honeymoon phase right now. Stronger feelings will be entering soon enough.
goddess-of_dragons: I don’t want to give away too much about who will be hurt and when, but suffice it to say that the attachment will continue to deepen, and if the agreement were to come to an end, they might find themselves both hurt. We’ll just have to see!
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A Secondary Education