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Before You	By : VSBree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6294 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling and company. I am not receiving compensation for this fiction.

Chapter List
- 7
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Chapter Eight: Pants On or Pants Off?
*
Harry walked briskly, feet crunching against mud and stone, and air blowing out of his mouth like puffs of white smoke. He breathed the fresh morning in as the cold nipped treacherously at his face. He didn’t care though despite his increasingly numb face.
Since Draco was needed in London, he had headed out shortly after their discussion. Harry had felt like their hearts and minds connected finally, and so was unhappy to know that it would be a short while longer before he could practice a bit more snogging. He was starting to find he quite liked the activity after short bouts before Draco’s departure this morning.
It all felt surreal. Draco returning his affections. Their relationship transforming from two wizards that despised each other to grow to have a friendship, and now, lovers—however much Draco hated that terminology.
His chest felt lighter, his steps chipper, and face forever smiling as Harry headed to the bookshop.
He was smiling the entire way—right up until he was face-to-face with an irate, heavily breathing, red-faced Dakin that is.
“Oh,” he breathed, forgetting that the last time he had seen Dakin he had been immobilized. “You…how?”
“I was released shortly before the prissy boy left,” Dakin growled. “He’s lucky I was happy I hadn’t peed myself yet with all the drinking we did last night.”
“Sorry Dakin,” Harry apologized genuinely. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“He fancies you,” the other wizard said slowly, shrugging his shoulders, and blowing out a sigh. “He warned me if I ever hit on you, he’d do more than immobilize me next time. He’s bloody powerful that one.” Harry could see the sparks of respect in the older man’s eyes and felt relief wash over him. “I still don’t like him,” Dakin added with a finger pointed at Harry’s face, “but there is no denying that face of yours. You fancy him too.”
Harry groaned. Was it that bloody obvious?!
“Yes,” Dakin said in answer to his unvoiced question. “He may be powerful, but if he ever hurts you, I will make that prissy arse pay.”
Harry smiled brightly. “Thanks, Dakin.”
The older wizard shrugged once more before they entered the shop and started their normal opening duties.
*
It had been two days since Draco had left. Harry had received an owl the first night simply saying that Draco was unfortunately under more media scrutiny, and that he may be a while longer than expected. The next day—to his utter shock—Draco called him on his mobile. Harry had been so baffled when the deep register of Draco’s voice floated through the receiver that he had to take several long minutes to get his brain to work properly.
It seemed that Rita Skeeter had written about Draco in Galway, fabricating a story about an Irish love-interest. It made both of them laugh for nearly minutes over the tripe she had written. Harry no longer got the Daily Prophet, so Draco sat for a long few minutes attempting to read through the trash of an article about some secret Irish lover. It had taken so long merely because they were laughing so hard.
Today, he had been enjoying a novel, wishing desperately to see Draco before the end of the week. He had found another lead, this one a bit more substantial than the last, and intended to follow up on it when the weekend arrived. He wanted to have Draco there; partly because it was Draco who knew the specifics, but mostly because he wanted to spend another weekend with the Slytherin Potion’s Master.
Harry set the book down, his eyes gone cross-eyed after nearly spending the entire day reading. He looked over to his mobile. Draco had given him a number to reach him at—having said that the mobile was only for when Harry had more to say than what could be written in a letter. Harry had smiled at that. Draco had made tremendous strides; it was showing by the growing amount of familiarity with muggle items.
Even after making such a stink about pills, he had mentioned while conversing with Harry over the mobile that he did, in fact, attempt it and said only that it wasn’t “as horrid” as he thought. He then proceeded to demand the list of what it was made of and how. Ever the Potion’s Master.
However, Harry didn’t necessarily have much to say to Draco—his life was fairly monotonous during the week—but he wanted to hear his lover’s voice, if only for a moment. It was such a girly thought that he nearly gagged at it.
Still, he wanted to hear the sultry tenor right against his ear; the husky laughter when he said something unknowingly humorous. He wanted to listen to Draco drabble on about the dull, overly trite work contacts. He wanted to hear Draco tease and taunt him about missing him; Harry denying it all the while secretly agreeing as well.
Harry shook his head and left the mobile where it was. It was all too new, and he didn’t want Draco to grow tired of him, especially for hounding him day and night. So, he left it alone.
Harry had started to read again when his mobile went off. He reached for it instantly, looking at the screen to see who it was. Hoping. Praying. Yes! It was Draco.
“Hello?” he answered, hoping his voice sounded normal despite the excitement building inside him.
“You sound way too excited, Harry.”
Shite. “I was just…reading a good part of my novel,” he lied lamely.
“Right,” Draco returned sarcastically. Harry could almost hear the smirk on the blonde’s lips. “I will be able to return tomorrow.”
“Really?!” Harry nearly shouted then subsequently cursed under his breath. “I mean, good. I found a new lead that I wanted to investigate this weekend.”
“Did you now?”
“Proud of me?” Harry teased.
He could almost hear Draco roll his eyes. “Not as much as you are of yourself apparently.”
“That’s just mean,” Harry pouted. “I went through all this trouble…”
“Oh, shut it,” Draco laughed out. “I should be able to come around noon tomorrow. Will you be at the shop?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered, enjoying the way Draco’s voice took on a huskier tone after laughing. “Will you come by then?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
Draco’s voice dropped suddenly. “On whether or not the troll“—Harry cleared his throat—“McClain is there,” Draco corrected with a growl.
Harry smiled as he answered with nonchalance. “Hm, I’m not sure actually…”
“Harry,” Draco warned, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Oh, fine. You’re such a spoilsport. I wonder if your Irish lover might is treated better…”
“I am hanging up.”
Harry interjected quickly. “Okay, okay. He’ll be gone tomorrow. He’s headed for Scotland to watch a football game. Or so he says anyway.”
“A simple yes or no would have sufficed,” Draco complained.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Draco sighed heavily into the phone. “Looks like I am needed by another incompetent colleague. I will see you tomorrow.”
The call ended with Harry feeling oddly unsatisfied despite his excitement for Draco’s return. He slouched into his seat, defeated by his mixed emotions. Their relationship was so different now. He could hardly recognize them together. Had he really been this…girly before? Surely never with Ginny.
Standing up, he headed for the bedroom, deciding it was best to sleep. If he slept, tomorrow would come faster. Harry almost felt like a child the night before Christmas.
*
“I would suggest this one,” Harry said as he handed over a book to his customer. “It has a great amount of fantasy with large bouts of action. It would be perfect for you, Mister O’Hara.”
“That’s perfect, lad,” the older gentleman said while examining the cover. “I’ll take a bit of a read of it then. Let you know what I think. It’s it alright if I borrow it ‘til then?”
“Of course,” Harry said with a smile. “You always buy them in the end.”
“That I do. That I do,” the older man said with a wrinkled smile. “Well, I best be off then. I’ll see you in a few days when I’ve finished.”
“Okay, see you then,” Harry responded as the old man left out of the shop and down the street.
Sighing as he looked at the clock, Harry wished that time would move quicker. It was only eleven, so Draco shouldn’t be showing just yet, but he was eager to see him. A little too eager.
He once more pulled out his novel and started to read, hoping to pass the time efficiently that way.
“Waiting for someone?” a voice questioned shortly following the chime of the shop door.
Harry’s head shot up from his book, taking in the appearance of Draco as he walked purposefully towards him.
Draco had dressed casually today—casual for a Malfoy anyway. He was wearing a dark emerald silk button-down with black, pin-striped dress trousers. His hair was styled around his face, framing the hard and soft contours of it and illuminating those blue-gray eyes that mesmerized Harry every time they fixed on him. His height and shoulder width made him appear lithe, but Harry knew from experience that it was a very good deception from his true form.
Harry was probably drooling. It hardly mattered when the object of his affection was standing right in front of him, lifting him out of his seat…Wait—what?!
Harry barely had time to register what was happening when a mouth collided with his own, and a tongue slid through the space of his parted lips as he let out a surprised gasp. Fingers grasped into his hair, angling him and pressing him harder into the kiss.
His eyes fell closed, forgetting where they were, and responding eagerly to Draco’s passionate kiss. Lips sliding, tasting, melding together, he put every bit of emotion he had felt during their separation. Every yearning he collected over their reconnection through the weeks.
Draco pulled away slightly, eyes regarding Harry with just as much passion as his kiss had. “That was quite the welcome,” he said, lips curving up in a wry grin.
“And very, very public,” Harry breathed as he attempted to pull away. “What—“ his brain worked slowly, “—what was that all about?”
“You really require everything to be said in so many words, don’t you?”
Harry smiled shyly. “Prat.”
Draco pulled away fully, releasing Harry from his embrace. Suddenly, Harry felt the loss. He managed—however—not to reach out and pull Draco back to him. Thankfully, he hadn’t. The next moment, another customer strolled in.
Flushed, Harry greeted the customer and pulled away entirely from Draco.
*
Darkness surrounded them as they walked leisurely down the street. The cold night air bit into his hands. And just as he was about to put them into his pockets, a strong, narrow-fingered hand entwined with his own. Harry’s head jerked up and over to Draco, but the other wizard kept his gaze forward. It was too dark to make out the Slytherin’s expression, but Harry hoped that it was similarly flushed like his own.
They walked quietly down the path, their footfalls among the only sounds around them aside for the occasional chirp of crickets in the brush.
“Did you manage to deceive the media?”
Draco sighed deeply, hand tightening momentarily before speaking. “For the moment.”
“Your trips to and from Ireland are probably suspicious,” Harry added thoughtfully. “Maybe you do have an Irish lover,” Harry teased.
Draco scoffed lightly. “I really do despise that word.”
“I know it,” Harry retorted with a chuckle. “Hopefully, we can find the book soon, and then you wouldn’t have to come out so often. I really want to get your mother better.”
Suddenly, Harry was jerked sideways and wrapped up into a tight embrace. “I would return regardless of the book. However, must you live among muggles? If you were to return—“
“I would never have any peace,” Harry finished curtly. “I can’t. I…it is best if I remain here.”
“Where the troll is,” Draco grumbled.
Harry pushed softly at the taller wizard’s shoulder. “Stop calling him that. And no, not just him. Everyone I have come to know in these six years. I gave up a lot to come here, so giving up now seems like a waste of all that sacrifice.”
“I could offer you a private home where you would never be bothered by the public,” Draco offered sincerely.
Harry could only discern a few of the other wizard’s expressions, but he knew the seriousness in those eyes that regarded him. Still, he found himself shaking his head. “No, I can’t…not after all this time. It would be hardly private for long.”
“Harry.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Harry clipped with a groan. “You only just got back. Let’s leave it for another time.”
“Procrastination is hardly wise,” Draco scolded but led Harry back into their stride towards his home.
Harry smiled sadly. Procrastination. Deception was more accurate. It was clear that Draco wouldn’t leave his life in London to be with Harry; Harry couldn’t leave his life in Ireland to be with Draco. Were they on a road that led to heartbreak?
Harry didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t think about it. If he had to choose between Draco and his current life, what would his choice be? He didn’t know. What was in the wizarding world for him? He may be in love with Draco, but was it enough to give up six years of sacrifice?
*
Kissing was becoming a favored past-time. He had shared so many kisses with Draco that his lips had become chapped and sore. Rubbing his lips, he attempted to revitalize them after a particularly long snog-fest.
Draco never pressed for more. Whenever their lips met, tongues danced, and bodies pressed, Draco would never push for more than Harry was not already doing himself. Harry never imagined Draco would be the kind, understanding sort of lover.
However, as the days passed, he was starting to comprehend just how gentle of a lover Draco was. Granted, Draco would often surprise him with kisses that were domineering and passionate, but he would never force anything that Harry wasn’t comfortable with.
Harry gathered the usual treats for their tea and headed back into the living room where Draco was seated with a journal, jotting down notes.
“What’s that you’re writing?”
“Nothing important,” Draco responded dismissively before putting the journal to the side.
Harry sat down, getting ready to serve them a cup of tea. However, he was jerked to the side, hand cupping his chin and mouth pressed into his own, firmly, unyieldingly. His body turned at an awkward angle, Harry attempted to kiss back, but finally had to pull away to fix his position.
“You could’ve just asked, you know.”
Draco’s eyes ignited with amusement as a smirk played on his lips. “And miss the blush now tainting your cheeks? I think not.”
Harry flushed hotter. Licking his lips, still tasting Draco’s own on his, he leaned forward and dared to touch his mouth to the other. Draco—most often—was the one to initiate their kisses; thus, when Harry surprised the Slytherin with the kiss, a flush began to spread over Draco’s face.
“Who’s blushing now?” Harry taunted with mischievous grin.
Draco leaned forward, hand immediately cradling Harry’s neck, and pulled him forward into another hot kiss that caused his toes to curl and hands to clasp desperately at the material of Draco’s shirt. His mouth was pillaged ruthlessly; tasted, kneaded, and filled with such hot passion he was barely held it together if not for the anchor on the Slytherin.
Harry was desperate to gain even a small inkling of dominance, so he pressed into Draco bodily, rutting his hips into the other and causing low groans to rumble into his opened mouth. He swallowed them away with kisses, pressing further into the touch and once more gyrating his hips invitingly.
A short, feral growl resounded through him as Draco easily changed their position, pressing Harry’s back into the sofa and pressing his entire weight into him. Hips thrust into his own; hardness met hardness as they continued to rut rather shamelessly together.
It was the first time they had gone so far, but Harry wanted it; needed the touch so badly that he found himself clinging to Draco as if fearing the other would pull away at any moment. It would surely kill him. So he held fast to his lover, answering each passionate thrust with one of his own.
Pleasure whipped through him like liquid fire, sizzling him to the core and igniting a passion he had never felt his entire life. More. He wanted more.
“Draco,” Harry rasped after pulling away to catch his breath. “Need you.”
Draco’s face was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, cheeks equally flushed as Harry’s were sure to be, and mouth kiss-swollen. “Are you sure, Harry?”
“Merlin. Don’t ask! Just do it already! Something…anything,” he pleaded as he ripped at Draco’s clothing madly. “And take this damnable thing off!”
Draco smirked as he easily stripped his shirt off, exposing strained muscle as he straddled Harry’s body and started on his trousers.
Gods. But wasn’t Draco’s body exquisite. Harry ate in the sight of pale, porcelain skin laid bare of hair and imperfection. Harry’s eyes strayed over the rippling flesh, trailing his hands where he looked in complete rapture.
Draco groaned, momentarily stalling as Harry explored his naked torso. After a short moment, he set to Harry’s clothing, thrusting his shirt up and over Harry’s head; and then taking Harry’s trouser button and popping it off with practiced ease. Harry hadn’t time to feel any sort of modesty because Draco was already tasting his flesh, sucking it, nipping a trail from navel to neck in swift movements.
Harry arched into the touch, gasping and pleading for Draco to go on. He needed the other so badly. What, he wasn’t exactly sure. However, he was willing to venture into the unknown just to taste more of the euphoria Draco was currently bequeathing him.
The hot, electric sparks surged through him. Heat coiled just below his stomach. Every swipe of tongue and lips was encouraging his voice to become less restrained and much more vocal as Draco continued to worship his body. Harry’s breathing hitched when Draco sucked hotly at one of his nipples, rolling it gently between his teeth then swiping it teasingly with his tongue.
Harry’s hands flew to the blonde’s hair, neither stalling nor encouraging the other. Not dissuaded in the least, the Slytherin continued to suck and nibble between the two peaks before licking a pathway to just below Harry’s chin.
“You taste delicious, Harry.”
Harry groaned. “You’re not allowed to talk anymore.”
Draco pressed small kisses along the line of his jaw before whispering huskily into his ear. “Afraid you might cum if I say anything else?”
Harry moaned, body arching invitingly. Draco pressed into him, thrusting their hard pricks between them.
“What do you want me to do? How far should I go,” the other wizard continued to whisper. “Should I suck you? Bugger you brainless? Or…both?” Draco hissed as their erections continued to slide against each other.
How was Draco even talking through this? Harry could barely think let alone accomplish coherent speech. His body was on fire with pleasure. The building ecstasy was incredible, but Harry was starting to hesitate. Thankfully, they still had their boxers on, but Harry was starting to lose the passion-induced haze from earlier and reality was slowly creeping in.
Apparently, that much could be seen because Draco slowed some, and his eyes became serious. “Is this too much for you, Harry?”
Harry wanted to deny it, but there was a part of him that still felt it was a bit fast. He swallowed roughly. “Not…it’s just, this is the first time…”
“I know,” Draco said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. “If you’re not ready, do not force yourself. I can wait.”
Harry felt his heart clamoring in his chest, pulse throbbing in his ears, the flushing of body as it pressed against Draco’s, but all he acknowledged was the gentleness of Draco’s eyes. Of his words.
Harry had craved this sort of love ever since his childhood. He had found similar versions: his friends, the Weasley family, Dumbledore, his late godfather. None of them, however, could compare to how he felt in this very moment.
Harry pressed his hands gently to Draco’s face, hoping to portray just how much those words had loved him—cherished him. All of his apprehensions fell away as he shook his head and smiled softly at Draco.
“I’m ready,” he stated with confidence before leaning upwards and pressing a firm kiss to Draco’s lips.
Their mouths moved slowly this time, taking their time to explore and pleasure through the touch. When he thought it best to move their activities to the bedroom, the front door burst open, and Dakin’s loud voice echoed through.
“I found the book! I found the bloody book!” the large man said boastfully, coming right inside. However, when his eyes met the sight before him, his jaw dropped, eyes boggled from his head, and body froze all in one swift moment. “Wha—“
Draco’s guttural growl flowed out. He covered Harry’s naked body fully with his own. “Get out you bloody troll!”
Regardless of the intensity of Draco’s demand, Dakin remained frozen at the sight. Harry’s body flushed with absolute mortification as Draco quickly sought his wand and spelled their clothes back on. Thank Merlin for magic.
Harry hid his face in his hands as Dakin finally came to his senses.
“The book,” the older wizard repeated lamely. “Uh—er—I found it.”
Draco’s voice was deep and angry. “And you thought that reason enough to barge inside someone else’s home, you bloody twit.”
“Right,” Dakin said, flushing. “That—uh—sorry ‘bout that.”
Harry rubbed his hot face in his hands before regarding his friend. “So you found the book? Where? I thought you had gone to Scotland.”
“I did,” Dakin argued as his eyes strayed away from Harry. “That’s where I found the bloody thing.”
“Are you sure it’s the same book?”
“…pretty sure,” Dakin mused before taking a book with dark binding from his pocket. “It’s pretty dull, but the book feels enchanted.”
Draco snatched the proffered book, obviously still fuming about being intruded on. He looked through it briefly before glancing up again. “While I will never like you, nor will I ever forgive you barging in and laying eyes on what is mine…” Draco bit out, “I suppose this redeems you, if only slightly.”
Dakin grinned wolfishly at Draco. “Found it then did I? What do you need it for anyway?”
“None of your bloody business,” Draco clipped before standing and heading for the table. “I need to contact a few colleagues to see if I can disarm the enchantment,” he said more to Harry than to Dakin.
Harry finally regained his composure and looked at his friend who still couldn’t look him quite in the eye. “Thank you. He…well, you finding that book was a real lifesaver.” Quite literally. Harry decided to keep all of that out since Draco made it clear he wanted no one else to know of his mother’s illness, and his reason for seeking the book.
“Yeah. Uh, well then, I should get going,” Dakin struggled out. “See you at the bookshop. Ring me if you need me to watch it for a few days.”
Harry appreciated his friend more than ever. He hoped that this helped settle some of their differences. While he never expected friendship, Harry was sure that Draco was grateful for this.
Dakin headed out, and so Harry headed for the table where Draco sat. They immediately sent out correspondences for enchanters. Hopefully, they could get the book unlocked so Draco could brew the cure right away.
This was the first time that Harry wanted to return to the wizarding world. He wanted to support Draco as he worked to cure his mother.
TBC…
Okay, before I get docked about how quick their relationship went from point A to point B. Harry is also a guy…twenty-four and a virgin. Would you be able to keep it in your pants? Not likely. Also, I apologize if my use of British slang isn’t the greatest. I lived in Ireland for a year, but I’m American…so sometimes, I just don’t even bother. Well hope you enjoyed this juicy, juicy…fluffy chapter! Until next time!!
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Before You