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A Sure Thing	By : jameschick Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4111 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-A Sure Thing
- 1
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

It was dark and he was dizzy. He didn�t know where he was, or how he�d gotten there. A year ago, he would never have been in this situation, he was smarter than that, but it�s amazing how liberating it is to know that Voldemort has been defeated for good.
He remembers dancing with the Weasley twins, something between a tango and vertical sex with clothes on. Ginny had turned red in embarrassment - whether it was because of how they were dancing, or that it was her brothers doing it, he wasn�t sure - and Hermione had fallen out of her chair laughing. Ron had been in the loo. He thinks.
There were drinks. Lots and lots of drinks. He remembers leaving. It was cold outside and he�d been unable to button his coat. His hands were too clumsy.
He doesn�t remember much after that. Just muffled voices and helpful hands. A warm hallway. His glasses being removed.
Since the defeat of Voldemort, Harry has been no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh. He�s been making up for lost time, male, female, he isn�t picky. It�s a well known fact in his circle of friends and acquaintances that he�s a sure thing.
He�s not at all surprised to find that he isn�t alone. He just wonders who it is that he�s followed home this time. And whether he�ll have to cook the breakfast in the morning.
There are hands touching him now. Warm hands. Nice hands. He realizes he�s naked but doesn�t worry about it. He�s in bed; of course he�s naked. The hands keep touching.
It feels good, this touching, but not familiar. The hands are gentle, but they don�t know how to touch him. Where to touch him. He begins to feel that maybe this isn�t right.
�Stop,� he murmurs, but it comes out more of a groan. The hands falter for a second but then continue. He tries to move but only ends up moving into the next touch instead of away from it.
He�s too tired and too confused. His body is uncooperative and he decides that so long as the hands aren�t hurting him, maybe he can just let them touch. It still does feel nice after all. Almost relaxing.
Then he feels warm breath ghosting over his sleepy cock. His body decides to wake up. Just a little. A tongue flickers softly against the head and his breath catches in his throat. It feels� weird. Good, but still weird. Oral sex is always a bit odd-feeling when he�s this drunk.
He wishes he knew who was touching him. He knows it�s not Hermione or Ginny. They left the party hours before he did, and besides, they would never be so bold. It could be one of the Weasley twins, Merlin knows he�s been propositioned by both of them on more than one occasion. It might even be Oliver Wood. He vaguely remembers him being at the party. He knows he�s not lucky enough for it to be one of the Patil twins. Or better yet, both of them.
But then, when that mouth descends on his now fully awake prick, he finds he doesn�t much care who it is.
He moans weakly. His hips move just the tiniest bit, trying to pump into that warm, wet mouth but unable to. �Please,� he says. It comes out as a whisper but he is gratified that it came out at all.
The mouth leaves him then and he whimpers. He should be embarrassed at sounding so needy but he�s far too intoxicated to care.
�Shh,� he hears. Then his legs are being parted, his knees bent and his feet planted on� someone�s shoulders?
A man then. Rules out his Patil twins fantasy but at this point the doesn�t care. It could be Snape perched between his thighs and right now he wouldn�t give a damn. He was beyond any shame or coherent thought. �Please,� he says again. This time a bit louder.
He feels hands on his arse, fingers spreading his cheeks. �Oh gods,� he exclaims as he feels the first wet lick of a tongue over his arsehole.
The tongue fucking takes him by surprise, he�s never been rimmed before but he decides that he quite likes it. It�s wet and warm and just feels good. It�s over far too soon.
Fingers have replaced the tongue and a pillow is now jammed beneath his hips. His� partner has still not spoken and as this dawns on him, Harry opens his mouth to ask only to groan instead as his prostate is prodded. �Who�� he finally asks only to be silenced by insistent lips pressing into his own.
Kissing is good. Harry likes kissing. The mouth on his own tastes unfamiliar, and like nothing he�s ever tasted before. It dawns on him then, just where that mouth has been and what it has been doing. He feels he should be grossed out, but the thought slips away before he can really understand why.
He doesn�t know how many fingers are inside him, only that it burns. He wants it to stop hurting. Then that spot gets brushed again and everything is good.
Something much larger than fingers is pressing against him, pushing inside him and he cries out in pain. His mystery lover does not stop moving. Tears leak from his eyes and are gently licked away. He digs his nails into the soft skin of his lover�s back and hears the other man hiss. In pain? Pleasure? He doesn�t know and doesn�t care.
Full. He�s so full. And it hurts. Burning, stretching, throbbing, pain. �Sorry, shh, I�m sorry,� is whispered in his ear. �Try to relax, I won�t move yet,� he hears. The voice is familiar. But not. Not a Weasley then.
He thinks that he should know it, but that he has never heard it sound so nice before. Leads credence to the Snape theory, only he doubts Snape would ever apologise. Not even in this situation. Especially not in this situation. He�d probably take points for poor performance.
Harry breathes deep. He tries to relax and to wills his body to respond. His lover places tiny kisses on his neck. Nips at his jaw. Licks at his mouth. He opens to the questing tongue and loses himself in passionate kisses. He doesn�t feel the pain anymore.
�Who are you?� he asks again as the kisses trail off, as his lover begins to move inside him. �I know you,� he says before a moan tears itself from his throat as a hand wraps around his cock.
His lover does not answer him; only kisses him again. And again. He gives up on asking, knowing that it is futile. The alcohol fuzz is beginning to wear off and he is more in control of himself than he was when this started. He tries to take stock of what he can.
His lover is male. Obviously. Someone he knows. Not someone he�s particularly close to. He moves his hands down, feeling the form of him in his arms. Slim. Smooth. Hairless chest. Rules out Oliver. And, thankfully, Snape.
He moves one hand up the long expanse of his partner�s back and tangles his fingers into soft hair. He groans at the feel of it. Like silk sliding through his fingers.
�Gods, harder,� he cries out as he feels his balls tighten. His lover obliges him, all but pounding into him. He tightens his legs around his lover�s waist. Arching up, meeting him thrust for thrust. His cock pulses. His head tips back. His mouth opens in silent scream as he comes.
He feels teeth in his shoulder. The hand on his hip tightens. There will no doubt be a bruise there come morning. His lover tenses, groans, then spills himself inside him.
�Oh, holy fuck,� he hears moaned into his neck and he realises that he does know that voice. He knows it as well as he knows Ron�s voice. Or Hermione�s. He�s heard it taunt him, and tease him. Threaten him and command him. He�s heard it shouting curses and cusses. And now, now he�s heard it whispering apologies and groaning in satisfaction.
�Malfoy?� he asks, although he already knows the answer.
�Harry, don�t you think, after that, you should call me Draco?� He can hear the humour in the other man�s voice.
�Ma - Draco, why?� Sure, they weren�t school-boy rivals anymore, and Malfoy had fought on his side of the war, but this� This still needed an explanation.
A kiss was pressed to his neck and Harry shivered. �I told you, Harry, that one day I�d have you. You just took it the wrong way at the time.�
Speechless, Harry�s mouth opened and closed several times before he started to laugh. Draco laughed as well.
�So now what?� Harry asked when the laughter finally died down.
Draco kissed Harry, softly, and then pulled him into his arms. �Now we sleep. And tomorrow we talk to those friends of yours about not letting you walk home alone after getting pissed. No telling what might have happened to you if I hadn�t happened along when I did.�
Harry shook his head at the bizarreness of the whole situation. �Alright. But tomorrow you will explain how I ended up here - where ever here is - with you.�
�Of course I will. If you remember anything.� Draco said with a laugh. �Now go to sleep. I�m knackered.�
Harry rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it all but did as he was asked. He was still feeling the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he�d consumed. Plus, he was completely shagged out. By Draco Malfoy. He had a feeling that his life just got far more interesting.

The End.
- 1
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A Sure Thing