Earning a Name | By : Talin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29926 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The room was purposeful yet elegant,
furnished with a large, solidly built bed, nightstands and a small chest of
drawers with side doors to Harry’s bedroom and a private bathroom. No windows,
no dressers, no distractions. It was created with one thing in mind, and it was
designed very well. Harry never invited or allowed his lovers into his bedroom,
the notion somehow leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth. His bed was his… private… safe and secure. His bed
was not someplace where he wanted to experience the lingering scent of his
activities, it was not a place he wanted others to invade and commandeer. When
they came to fuck, they came here.
Harry could
have sworn he actually felt the trailing blonde tense as soon as Harry stopped
before the room. He put his palm on the alabaster back to usher the blonde in,
feeling the muscles contract evermore as they walked further and further in. By
the time Harry clicked the door shut, leaving them in the vague torchlight, the
blonde was visibly shaking.
“I’m not going to fuck you.” Harry relented, knowing that to
be what the blonde feared. “Not until you ask for it.”
He moved to
the chest of drawers, his body responding to the recollection of what secrets
they held… how wonderfully they would work on the blonde. He pulled a black
silk sash from the top left drawer, pushing out all the images running amok in
his mind. Nothing of that nature… not tonight. Not for
a while, most likely. Pushing that on
the blonde would break him for sure.
“Sit on the
bed.” Harry told him, waiting patiently while the blonde hesitated. Once he was
in position, sitting as tensely on the edge of the oversized bed as he was,
Harry got onto the opposing side, coming to sit behind him, easing the sash
over the blonde’s eyes. He let him adjust to the sensory deprivation, keeping
his hands oh the slim shoulders. It let the blonde know where he was, at least,
and it helped keep him from freaking out. It wasn’t long before his hands began
to move, messaging the neck and shoulders. Harry pulled out the oil as soon as
he was sure the absence of his other hand at a reasonably discernable an ‘safe’
location would not freak the blonde out, pouring some onto his other hand
(fingertips still on the blonde’s shoulder) before resuming the activity in
earnest. He moved on to the back and the lithe arms, the hesitant recipient
soon leaning in and back towards him.
The blonde was getting lost in the
sensations, forgetting where and with whom he was… or perhaps finding it hard
to care as his body relaxed… either one was beneficial to Harry. He chanced
kissing the shoulder, nuzzling the neck when the former action generated no
negative response. His hands traveled languidly over the arms again, the
nuzzling turning into a kiss, then a series there of when the blonde head
lolled back and to the side to allow him better access.
He pulled the blonde back against
him gently, settling the flaxen head on his arm, running his free hand over the
neck and chest. His eyes were drawn to the lips, never having chanced kissing
him there… to real, somehow, as odd as it sounded. Still, he could not help but
lean in, his trapped hand stroking the available piece or arm while his other
stilled on the strong pecks.
“Perfect” he noted, lips no more
than an inch away from the blonde’s, before veering to the side and kissing the
sensitive junction between the neck and shoulder.
The blonde arched into the touch, moaning sinfully.
Harry’s
hand found the hard nub of it’s own accord, drawing
little circles around its perimeter, Harry obliging it by moving towards the
other in a trail of little pecks. He couldn’t help but lap at the nipple, the
sounds emitting from the boy beneath him spurring him on. Pinching the other
one lightly elected a sharp gasp, the entire torso lifting to meet him as he
let it go. He sucked on the other, pausing as a hand buried itself in his hair for
the attention. Another suck elected another harmonious moan and a tightening of
the fingers in his hair.
Perfect.
He tried to shift to the other, the hand in his hair not
letting him leave. He rubbed his tongue over the tip of the nub, amused at the
blonde’s action.
Finally.
A second
attempt to raise his head was free of resistance, the hand combing from his
locks to rest at the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but look onto the
blindfolded face, imagining just how feral the silver orbs must look now. He
let his free hand run along the collarbone, shifting the blonde so that his
other hand could stroke his tight stomach, dipping a finger into the belly
button every so often.
“You want this.” he half-asked, half-cooed, pinching a
nipple to get a hearty moan. “What else do you want?”
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