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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13085 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
When Draco awoke his head was clearer than it had been in days, his body sore like he had ridden a broom for hours but otherwise pain free, the screaming that was a constant linger in the back of his mind gone. All that was left as the dream slipped away was a slight chill but even that was less than it had been. Now he was simply cold instead of in danger of turning into the next ice sculpture at a Ministry Gala. He shifted beneath the blankets, a curious weight across his chest forcing his groggy eyes open with a shock.
Potter was asleep next to him, his rumpled body sprawled out across the top of the covers with his boots still on his feet and his glasses skewed on his face as if he had simply passed out without meaning too. He was on his stomach with half his face squashed into the pillow and one arm thrown over Draco, like he was still in Protective Potter mode even in sleep.
He froze and stiffened, an indignant rant on the tip of his tongue. Because he wasn't at the Ministry, Potter had broken into his flat (again! He really needed to strengthen his wards), tucked him into bad (yet again, Merlin if the man insisted on knocking him out why didn't he just deposit him in some random corner of the office?), and then he was either so tired he had simply fallen forward and passed out himself or he had waited around - fretting like the heroic idiot he was until he to slipped into sleep. Which made a lot of sense if Draco really thought on it, seeing as how little sleep the other had gotten lately.
Twin insomniacs it seemed.
He should have been outraged, should have been shoving the man off his bed and glaring down at him as he sputtered awake. But...blinking the sleep from his eyes, Draco shifted so he could study the man next to him fully, his heart beating strangely fast in his chest. He had never witnessed Potter quite like this before, the man's face soft and open, his full lips almost a pout, an angry red line under the lightning scar where his glasses were digging into his skin. He didn't look carefree exactly, just more settled. Content.
It was strange though, having Potter in his bed was a complete violation of his rules and yet...he had slept, really truly slept for the first time that week and he didn't know if it had to do with his sheer exhaustion, Potter's spell (which he would properly yell at Potter about later), or the fact that the man's arm was curled protectively around him like an unbreakable ward. He felt safe and warm while Potter continued to breathe so deeply Draco doubted that he would wake even if the elusive murderer burst through the door right then and there. Reaching up a tentative hand, he traced a careful finger over the curve of Potter's jaw, not nearly as pointy as his but not boxy either, a near perfect curve to fit his features - a strong line that could make his enemies shiver in fear just as easily as it made his fan club swoon.
He had never touched Potter like this, all their times together had been much too fast, all about completion and taking. And now that he had started he couldn't seem to stop.
His finger ran up the swell of his cheek, no longer smooth but scratchy with the dark stubble that appeared every evening as the day was drawing to a close. His eyelashes looked thicker and longer in sleep, deep black dusting over his pale skin, and Draco found himself wondering what his eyes would look like as they blinked away sleep - perhaps just like after a particularly spectacular orgasm, unfocused and heavy. His fingers splayed across Potter's cheekbone, his thumb dropping to trace along the man's soft lips.
Witch Weekly named Potter their Most Eligible Bachelor at least once a year, he had even received the not so grand honor of being dubbed the Most Kissable Wizard in their latest addition - an article that had all the young witches in the area giggling atrociously whenever Potter stepped anywhere near them. Weasley had laughed outrageously at it, ripping the accompanying picture out and fastening it with an unyielding sticking charm to Potter's desk that took the grumpy man several days to coax off. Draco had snickered along with Weasley as Potter fought with the blasted photo only to find it stuck to the inside of his office door the morning after Potter had triumphed against it.
Potter insisted he hadn't done it and Weasley was looking far too innocent for Draco to believe either of them. He had sworn profusely until Damaris breezed by and reminded him that he wasn't a sailor and why didn't he just leave it up - 'because it was such a wonderful picture'. Draco had adamantly refuted that fact as he struggled with removing it, Potter's smiling lips drawing his eye over and over again till he had finally managed to tear it from his door and wipe that smile off the blasted man’s face at the club that night - not stopping until he made that mouth form a perfect O as he was pressed face first into a not so secluded wall with Draco's hands down his pants.
Draco abandoned his lips as an all too familiar ache started low in his gut to trace the curve of Potter's nose. Potter was an odd kind of handsome. A kind that had to grow on a person until one day the man they were left standing before was no longer a scrawny, atrociously bespectacled, honor laden man but something more.
Something rather beautiful.
"Fuck." Draco hissed out, his entire body tipping sideways as he leaned closer, his lips brushing softly over the very corner of Potter's mouth - his tongue peeking out for a split second to taste the other man. His eyes slid shut as his lips lingered, Potter's taste flooding through his mouth and making him want with a blind need. His hand trailed across Potter's shoulder, over his arm, then down his side as his lips moved to brush over his prickly chin. He distantly heard Potter mutter something unintelligible as he pushed with his body until he had rolled the freshly woken man onto his back, the covers kicked off to the end of the bed as Draco swung around so he was sitting atop him.
"Malfoy?" Potter's eyes blinked, his voice groggy and thick, full of incomprehensible question. "What are you...alright?" He asked, blinking rapidly now as Draco sat completely still - his pulse beating fast, his body desperate to taste, and his mind slowing to a crawl that made thinking straight impossible. He shouldn't do this, needed to keep whatever they were doing confined, limited to times and places that he could brush off. Then Potter's hands were gripping his thighs, those strong fingers making warmth bloom beneath the touch and his breath hitch.
He wanted to be set on fire - wanted Potter to drive the last of the cold from his blood.
Draco dove forward, his hands divesting the Auror of his robes and shirt as Potter gasped until both pieces of clothing laid spread open around him - exposing his toned chest to Draco's hungry gaze. Ignoring the tiny protest in the back of his head, he bent and ran his tongue from Potter's collarbone to one hardening nipple.
"Oh god." Potter jerked and Draco felt his hands tighten as he flicked his tongue over the rosy bud, his lips sealing around it and sucking to the sound of Potter's sharp cry - a cry that begged for him to do it again and again. His stomach fluttered as he lavished first one sensitive nipple and then the other, the taste of Potter's skin salty with sweat driving his hands across his sides and over his hips, his fingers dipping to flutter across the skin just below the waist band of Potter's trousers as he crouched above him.
"Fuck Malfoy that's...yes." Potter panted as Draco worked the fly of the dark haired man's trousers open with his mouth leaving a wet trail across his chest, the man beneath him moaning and arching into his touch.
"Shut up Potter." Draco sat up, the sight of Potter's chest littered with red nips and budding purple bruises making his head spin - his cock hardening further in his pants as he fought against the urge of leaning back down and covering the rest of him until Potter was nothing but a canvas painted with Draco's passion.
"Mal-"
"Don't say my name." Draco growled as he yanked Potter's trousers down to his knees and wrapped his hand around his cock. Potter was slightly shorter than him but also thicker, the head purple and the shaft a beautiful flush, the weight heavy and hot in his hand. Draco had never had the time to really look at Potter's cock before and now that he did he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from his fingers running up and down it - the sound of Potter gasping as he so obviously bit into his tongue egging him on. Potter bucked as Draco twisted his wrist and reaching up with one hand he pressed his palm against Potter's chest - keeping him flat as he sped up his ministrations, his gaze glued to the beads of precum leaking out the slit.
He wanted to bend down and taste it, to run his tongue from his balls to the slit, to probe and mouth and suck until Potter was screaming and spilling into his mouth. He wanted the bitter taste of Potter's cum to coat his tongue then he wanted to bend the man in half and plunge into him, to feel his hole stretch around him as he captured his lips in their first kiss and first real fuck. He wanted to pound into him until Potter couldn't see straight, until there wasn't any cold left in his body.
It terrified him how much he wanted. "Merlin." Draco rutted against Potter's leg and glanced up.
Potter was groaning a string of broken curses, his face flushed and forehead sweaty, his wide eyes on Draco's hand as his own fingers twisted harshly into the bedsheets. "Please, god please." He whimpered. "Want to feel you with me."
Draco didn't have to be told twice, his hands untucking his shirt tails before fumbling with his fly. He pushed his boxers and trousers down a little as he fell forward - catching himself with one hand at Potter's shoulder. He let out a long curse as his cock slid against Potter's, his forehead dropping atop his hand as Potter reached between them and wrapped his hand around them both.
"So good." Potter moaned as his fist pumped, Draco's hips snapping forward as Potter's surged up. Draco dropped his weight on him, pushing forward in an almost painful friction that made his toes curl and a cry erupt from both of them. "Don't stop." Potter's hand squeezed then loosened, pulling completely free to clutch at Draco's shirt on his back. "More, just...yes!...like that, ohhh." He sputtered as Draco grasped his hips and ground forward, his lust soaring higher than ever before with each syllable out of Potter's mouth - the normally quiet man's sounds driving him up a fucking wall with desire.
It made him delirious, made him forget himself and the boxes that Potter was supposed to be confined to, made him want to do anything just to make Potter whither and shout. It made him burn.
"Fucking scream Potter." He growled into the man's ear as sweat slid down his brow and collected in his hair. "Scream like you want me to fuck your arse."
Potter clawed at him and arched harshly, his mouth dropping in a shout. "Yes, fuck me!" He hollered, his legs widening as much as his bunched up trousers would allow.
Draco heart thumped, his hips bruising as he pushed against Potter with all of his strength. "Most eligible bachelor." He snickered, his teeth sinking into the man's already spotted neck before lifting is head to stare down at him, his hand pushing into Potter's sweaty curls, twisting and pulling harshly. "If they could see you now, gagging for cock."
"Yes." He moaned. "Fuck me. I want your cock in me."
"Shit." Draco moaned, jerking back quickly as Potter's mouth opened enticingly wide, like it was just begging for Draco's tongue to dip inside. He ignored Potter's protest as he sat back on his thighs and wrapped his hand back around them both - pumping vigorously. "Going to cum all over you." His eyes were dark and hooded, Potter's body laid out before him, open and eager, making it near impossible to keep that one last thread of a line between them - especially with the new discovering of Potter's filthy mouth. Who knew the savior of all would get off on dirty talk?
"Finish yourself." Draco ordered, pulling back slightly as his orgasm neared so that he was jerking just himself, Potter's hand flying to his own prick as he watched Draco hover above him.
"Yes, yes, come on me. God, fuck, come on me, please." Potter begged, his eyes following the movement of Draco's hand, a moan spilling long and deep from his throat as the blonde came, his cum spurting in ribbons over Potter's hand and cock and balls - dribbling down into the crease of his arse as he arched and shouted, jerking once more before he was adding to the mess.
With a shuddering breath, Draco collapsed backwards, sprawling out at the end of the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and still his heart - his eyes squeezing shut tight against the flood of emotion that hit him, threatening to knock the air right back out of his lungs. Without glancing over at Potter and the no doubt tempting sight he would make, Draco slid from the bed and fled to the in-suite bathroom. With a mutter, the sticky sheen covering his body was replaced by the harsh dryness of a cleaning spell, his hands shaking minutely as he tucked himself back into his pants. He kept his eyes averted as he washed his hands and splashed the cool water on his face, rubbing it into the back of his neck and letting it drip under the collar of his shirt.
He felt...split. But also warm, so very, very warm.
He watched the water run for several long moments before pushing a wet hand through his hair, straightening his clothes as best he could - which really was a complete waste of time considering how rumpled they were - and with as much dignity as he could muster stepped back out into his bedroom.
Potter was sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands on his knees, his eyes trained on his shoes, his cheeks still flushed with a lovely pink - his clothes were back in place but in even worse shape than Draco's, his robes abandoned in a ball behind him. He hovered in the doorway, uncertain how to proceed seeing as how they had never done this part before, they had always left before any awkward conversation could begin.
"Does the argument start now?" Potter asked quietly, still looking intently at his feet.
Draco started, took one step forward, paused and ran a hand over his face - the tone of Potter's voice catching him off guard. "In a fighting mood?"
He let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. "No." But he still wasn't looking at Draco, his hands tight on his knees with the disheveled bed beneath him screaming what they had just done. "We should...talk though." He glanced up then, a quick jerk of the eyes beneath his eyelashes, his chin tipping just enough for Draco to catch sight of the array of marks on his neck.
Draco swallowed and nodded. "I suppose you have questions. I know I sounded," he paused and rolled his wrist in the air, looking anywhere but at the bruises on Potter's skin. "Unhinged earlier. But I - later alright?" He knew he needed to sit down and hash it all out, needed to spill every last nuance that he felt might - just maybe - help with the case. But he couldn't stomach another long conversation, not now, not when he was feeling both elated and sick over what had just happened, not with Potter sitting on his ruined bed, not with his body still burning from his touch.
Potter stared at him, sucking in one deep breath before letting it out slowly. "That's not-" he pursed his lips and glanced back at his hands. "Yeah alright." He was quiet for another moment as he studied the lines on the back of his hand. "I guess I'll be going then." He stood stiffly as he scooped up his robes and swung them over his arm, a hand carding through his horrendous mane. "Get some rest." Potter sighed with his eyes blinking heavily at the former Slytherin, his hand haven fallen from his hair to rub over one particularly deep purple patch under his jaw - lingering there for a moment before his gaze fell to the floor and he walked away.
Draco listened to his retreating footsteps down the hall, just barely making out the whoosh of the floo a few beats later, his legs going weak as the fire swept Potter away - his body collapsing forward onto the bed that still smelled of the other man.
****
"I'm a fucking idiot." Draco grumbled into the pillow, his hand holding the bottle of gin dangling precariously off the edge of the bed.
"Now, now." Pansy chided, the mattress dipping as she plopped down next to him, an awkward hand patting him on the back with two quick smacks. "Self-loathing is never a pretty picture Draco."
He grunted and turned his head stiffly, focusing his watery eyes on the woman laying on her back with her dark hair fanned out all around her. "Fuck off." He tried to add some sort of crude gesture but failed halfway through as he found it took far too much work to complete. "Fucking twat."
She grinned and studied the half of his face she could make out above the pillow, the red rims and misty quality of his eyes revealing just how far gone he already was. "You rather like that word when you've had a touch too much." She informed him. "Now how about we put a pause on getting pissed up to your eyeballs and you tell me why you're currently moping about like someone just lit your wardrobe on fire."
"I will fucking kill him if he lights my wardrobe on fire." Draco growled, lifting his chin just enough to take another swig, the dry liquor multiplying in a delightful heaviness on his tongue and spreading out through his veins. The bottle was more than half gone already, all except a few shots of it currently making its way through his bloodstream and making everything in the room sway like they were on a bloody boat in the middle of the ocean with Blaise drunkenly piloting the vessel.
He had absolutely no clue what time it was but the street beyond his windows were shrouded in black which meant he had been drowning himself in the earthy liquor for much too long already - the clear bottle a welcome sight the moment he had pried himself from the bed after Potter had left. Or more accurately, after he had basically kicked the man out. Though why had he kicked him out was starting to get fuzzier and fuzzier the longer he thought on it and the more the level of the liquid went down. Of course why he thought drinking would help him calm down and get everything back in order internally when all it ever did was get him wound up was something of a mystery.
Either way he had been drinking for hours and somehow Pansy had gotten thrown into the mix. Though he couldn't quite remember how she had gotten there. Perhaps he had firecalled her?
"Who?" Pansy asked, scowling at him as she swiped the bottle away.
"Potter." Draco pressed his face back into the pillow, the pillow that still smelled like Potter's inky, woodsy scent mingled with sex. "Fucking Potter." God had he really said those things to him? Had he actually pinned him down and let those filthy things come out of his lips? What in the world had he been thinking? And Potter...merlin Potter had liked it. He had begged for it, screamed for him, and moaned like a slut when Draco had...on him.
"Ah, the ever aggravating Harry Potter." Pansy chuckled, making Draco grimace as the sound made his head throb. "What did our wild hero do this time?"
"He exists." He mumbled, his voice muffled and off key.
"And what did his existence do to make you tip headlong into your liquor cabinet?" Pansy nudged him with her knee, her body looming closer as Draco mumbled incoherently into the pillow. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that, one more time."
"We fucked." Draco lifted his face and glared, his stomach rolling with the jerky movement. "Sort of."
Pansy stared at him incredulously for a moment, as if she was contemplating how exactly to tell him how dense she thought he truly was. "Draco dear, I hate to break it to you but you've been sort of fucking Potter for almost a year."
Draco scowled and flopped onto his back, shutting his eyes as the ceiling rolled right along with his stomach - god he really should have eaten some dinner. "I know." He grunted.
"So...I don't see the problem. You like messing around with him don't you?"
Draco kept his eyes shut tight and nodded, his hands pressing under his navel in effort to quell the churning.
"And he clearly likes it as well." She probed and he nodded again to which she scoffed loudly. "Then what in the world is the matter? You’re acting like he just dumped your sorry arse."
"We did it here." Draco mumbled, his tone so low she had to nearly press her ear to his lips to hear him.
Pansy snapped her fingers till he begrudgingly pried his eyes back open, her eyebrows arched and a frown on her pink sparkly lined lips. "Yes, I can see how doing it on a bed would just make it so very awful." She said with a pronounced eye roll and a very pointed look. "Was it just too comfortable? Did Potter's hair clash horribly with your sheets? Or was it being horizontal that threw you since you normally just shove him into a wall?"
Draco grumbled and jerked the gin back from her, tipping it down his throat and letting it burn away the last of his resistance, leaving him feeling open for all to see. "It's Potter Pansy." He whispered, fiddling with the lip of the bottle. "He's completely insufferable and I can't...I just can't."
"You can't what?" She asked, sounding startlingly gentle, her tone something he had only heard a handful of times in his entire life. It unsettle him deeply, making his mind spin, knowing that she was reading something on his face that he hadn't meant to give away - knowing just by that little cadence that he really was bare before her right now.
Fuck.
He turned away and stared at the wall, a pained sigh escaping him as she slid closer until her front was pressed against his back, her arm sneaking loosely around his waist. He felt like he was back at school, back to being seventeen when the world was falling apart around them, back when Pansy would sneak her way into his bed and hold on - squeezing him so tight as if to make sure he didn't float away on a gust of wind. "I just can't...not with him."
"Have you asked him? He might surprise you considering he seems to be rather attached to you as it is." She pressed her hand over his, stilling his fidgeting fingers on the bottle that was nearly tipping over on its side, inches away from soaking his bed.
"He's a closet gay who likes to suck my dick to keep from throttling me on the job."
"Must be a big closet to fit you inside it as well." Pansy chuckled, her forehead touching the back of his neck and Draco could nearly feel her debating her next words, her next step. "Would it really be so bad?"
"Would what be?"
"Admitting you like him. Not his cock or the way he blows you but him."
He thought of Potter as a teenager with snow in his hair, wrapped in those horrid red and gold scarfs, laughing with his friends. He thought of Potter on their first day working together, stiffer than a strip of lumber, his mouth a hard line, his eyes a narrowed glare that followed each and every movement Draco made. He thought of the day that look started to shift, started to soften. He thought of the first time he ever heard Potter laugh, not near him, not at him, but with him. He thought of the first time Potter's knees had hit the floor in a stall in the loo, how his hands had shook and his mouth had fumbled, how he had coughed and gagged when Draco spilled out between those lips - flushing bright as he somehow managed to seem almost giddy during it all.
Draco closed his eyes and let her question settle inside him, let it ring that alarm that always sent him running as far away as possible. Because fucking with Potter was one thing. Hell even allowing their encounters to spill out of the darkness of the club could be made to fit a certain mold. But admitting...that...was something entirely different. It would open up a hole, a gaping need inside him he didn't think Potter had it in him to fill.
He squeezed Pansy's hand and let out a long breath, his chest constricting with the thump of his heart. "I don't know." He answered quietly.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)