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Give Me All You Can	By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4209 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Raincoast. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended

Chapter List
- 1-Give Me All You Can
- 1
Draco stands outside the front door of the dingy Muggle pub, his fingers twitching absently while he works up his courage to go inside.
He hasn't had a real conversation with Potter in weeks, not since they returned from their expedition to the Himalayas with the Scamanders, not since they had made love. His face flushes at the memory. The last time really did feel like more than a farewell fuck. He clenches his fist, trying to stop fidgeting, but the small tube of lube in the back pocket of his trousers rubs against his bum and reminds him of the impossible hope he can't seem to part with.
It's now or never. He opens the door and lets it bang closed behind him. The pub is small and dark, filled with rickety tables and a couple of booths. Blue smoke dances in the air beneath the shaded lamps dangling from the ceiling.
He spots Potter in a booth in the corner. Potter's rumpling his ridiculously messy hair with one hand. He's looking about as nervous as Draco feels, not that Draco's about to admit it. He approaches the booth and slides into it before he loses his nerve.
"This is a right dive."
Potter looks up at him, his mouth stretching into a pleased grin as he passes Draco some Muggle money. "You picked it."
Draco accepts the money and stands back up, spotting the bar. "Yes, because nobody with taste would choose to come here for fun." He walks to the bar, keenly aware of Potter's eyes on his backside, but forces himself to relax. He doesn't want to come across as distant, but he doesn't want Potter to see how desperate he is either. Even if Potter called him for this talk because he wants what Draco wants so much, it's impossible. Draco can't leave his wife, his responsibility, his name.
He orders a bottle of beer at random and carries it back to the table, then sits back down. "I hope whatever you want to talk about is interesting, Potter," he says and takes a sip, frowning despite the fact the beer isn't half bad.
He watches Potter's face, taking note of the flush rising on his cheeks and the way he seems unable to keep his hand out of his hair. It would be amusing if his cock didn't find it so arousing. It's been far too long since his last proper shag.
"Err, this is kind of hard for me to say," Potter mumbles, stops talking. Draco raises an eyebrow as Potter continues. "I really enjoyed myself on the expedition with you, and I know we were meant to call it quits, but I can't stop thinking about you."
A squirming sensation flutters through Draco's stomach, spreading heat through his extremities. He raises his eyebrow further.
"Well, that is interesting." His mind is a whirl of thoughts, memories, the taste of Potter's cock on his tongue, the weight of it. But he can't let his desires rule him right now. He needs to keep a cool head. "What about your wife?"
Potter stares at his bottle of beer, not making eye contact, a crease between his eyes and his lips slightly downturned. Draco waits, trying to keep himself in his seat, not wanting to jump too quickly and make rash decisions, but the tightening of his trousers is making it difficult to not move.
"I love Ginny, I really do," Potter admits quietly. For a moment, he falls silent. Then he adds, "but she isn't you."
"And Astoria isn't you." Draco's words fly out of his mouth before he can stop them. He watches Potter's face snap to attention so fast, he's surprised Potter didn't give himself whiplash. "Astoria and I only married because of our families' expectations." There is bitterness in his voice as all the reasons he's imprisoned in his marriage come flooding forth, and his regret, his envy of Potter's relationship with his wife and the lack of pure-blood dogma holding Potter back are laid bare. "Having sex with you was the only escape I've had, and I'm ashamed to say it was one of the few times in recent years I felt truly happy."
If he's not careful he's going to make an arse out of himself. He stops talking and takes a long drink from his beer, swallowing it as though accepting the lot that is his life.
Potter tries to reason with him that he should be able to strike out on his own, leave his wife, do the things he wants to, that the world is changing and pure-blood traditions are breaking down. But Draco thinks of how far he's come since the war. He's up for promotion as an Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic despite bearing the Dark Mark, and he knows if he were to throw his family aside he'd lose all credibility; all the progress he's made would be flushed down the toilet and it would likely be impossible for him to survive a third comeback, especially without his family's money. He is well and truly stuck.
They've been arguing about it for the last few minutes, until he finally has to call it as it is.
"… I'm not like you; I wouldn't be able to just leave Astoria like you could leave your wife."
The look Potter gives him makes him pause. Has he misunderstood? Merlin! What if Potter isn't trying to pry him away from Astoria for himself at all, but because he is a good and noble person who can't stand to see somebody in pain. He tries to play off his nerves by pulling his hand back off the table, but Potter reaches out and snatches it, holds on looking into Draco's eyes, thumb brushing the back of his hand.
"I don't want to leave Ginny, and I don't want you to leave Astoria. You and Ginny are so different, and I've realised now that I can't have one without the other."
His breath catches in his throat. Can Potter possibly be propositioning the one arrangement that will work for him? His heart stutters in his chest, but he focuses on the slow strokes of Potter's thumb against his hand. "My father says it's acceptable for me to have an affair provided nobody knows; I'm sure you haven't been given that option." His voice is a whisper. "Do you really want to risk continuing, knowing that if it goes wrong for you, I can't be there with you?"
Potter smiles and nods. "Yes. I can't go on without you, but I can't leave Ginny either, which means this is my only choice, and it's a risk I'm prepared to take."
"Good," Draco says, lips drawing into a smirk. He frees his hand from Potter's, reaches across the table and hauls Potter forward by his shirt to meet his lips in a desperate clash.
When Potter breaks to breathe and whispers against Draco's lips, Draco feels like he's flying.
"Do you want to get a hotel room?"
Draco nods, his cock giving a sympathetic twitch. He follows Potter out of the pub. They'll work on logistics after a reacquainting shag.
~x~
18 Days Later
Draco stands before the the full length mirror set into his wardrobe door staring at his reflection. He hardly recognises himself. He's happy. The dark circles under his eyes that he used to try to erase with foul smelling potions have faded on their own. He supposes that it's all to do with Potter and their arrangement. Just thinking about it makes his lips turn up at the corners.
He studies the length of his ponytail, frowning slightly, wonders if his father would notice if he trimmed the ends. A shiver runs down his spine at the cage his hair represents. He twists his wedding band nervously on his finger and turns away from his reflection. It's best not to think about it.
"Draco?"
He looks up. Astoria stands in his doorway. She's dressed for traveling.
"When does your Portkey depart?" He concentrates on keeping his tone of voice casually curious. There's no sense in giving away how anxious he is in getting her out of the house.
The lines in her forehead crease as she frowns at him. They're new, or perhaps they're not; perhaps he's just now noticing. A niggling sensation inside his chest makes him avert his eyes from her and redirect them at his reflection in the mirror. It sinks into his gut as he sees her in the mirror, lips trembling where she stands in the doorway behind him.
"In about 10 minutes. Are you certain you can't come along? This Healer is the very best in the field…"
He stops her talking by raising his hand. Squeezes his eyes shut tight a moment. Swallows. If he were to come along, it would be obvious in an instant that their inability to conceive is the result of a potion. He doesn't really know why he's sabotaging their efforts, but he will have to stop when she returns with the news that there is nothing wrong on her end.
He looks at her again in the mirror, unable to face her directly. "The promotion to Undersecretary comes with more than prestige. It also means I have to work my arse off to make a good impression in the early days. We can start trying in earnest next year."
The sound of her exhalation is almost hopeful, eager, but her visage is still wary. He's got to suck it up. She'll be gone in a couple of minutes anyway.
He smiles, relaxing his muscles as much as he can to make it appear genuine and pleased.
She brightens and rushes towards him and he turns to catch her in his arms; the sweet scent of jasmine clings to the back of his throat from her perfume. A kiss goodbye is not going to kill him.
~x~
Draco's nerves are wound so tight he's nearly bursting out of his skin. It's been hard to fit Potter into his schedule since his promotion. He glances at the clock on the wall, neck tight from alternately peering out the window through a gap in the curtains and back at the clock.
He drums his fingers on the greasy table top, then examines the tips, frowning at the residue and wiping them on the curtain. He uses the opportunity to look across the hotel parking lot, searching for any sign of Potter.
Draco jumps, his heart in his throat when a series of three sharp knocks reverberates through the flimsy Muggle made door. He breathes out a relieved sigh and sinks onto the bed, his dressing gown tied by the flimsiest tasseled cord. After a week apart, Draco's hard just anticipating Potter's visit.
He lifts the locking charm from the door with a flick of his wand and the door swings open and then closes. A moment later, Potter appears in the centre of the room and tosses his invisibility cloak over the back of a chair.
He's beaming, green eyes brightly fastening on Draco.
Draco's pulse quickens; he can feel his face flushing at Potter's eagerness. He pats the space beside himself, raising an eyebrow at Potter's good mood.
Potter joins him, not sitting next to him, but falling to his knees before him and gripping his thighs with hot, strong hands, looking up as if he were begging.
Draco's cock throbs under his dressing gown. He's helpless under the heat of Potter's gaze, but there's something else present in his eyes, a nervousness.
"What is it?" Draco asks. Usually Potter would have his throat wrapped around Draco's cock by now, but the way he's holding back makes Draco wonder if they haven't just hit the first snag in their arrangement.
Potter swallows. He's still smiling. Almost as if he's trying not to, but can't help it. It's a smile tinged with sadness. The news can't be all bad, but why...
"I'm going to be a father."
The words hang in the air. Hard. Like a door slamming.
Draco blinks, wrinkles his forehead. It's not what he was expecting to hear. He knows Potter has another life, a wife. And soon there will be a child. But then, the very same thing is in the plans for Draco's future. He feels a bubble of bitterness grow in his stomach, but tries to stifle it. He has no right to be jealous. It doesn't stop it from happening all the same.
Potter's looking at him still, no longer smiling. He looks concerned. What did Potter intend to happen in sharing this news? Is he wanting to end things? The fact that he's here and kneeling at Draco's feet makes him think that that can't be it.
"Draco?" Potters voice trembles.
Draco takes a deep breath and lets it out, closes his eyes a moment, focusses on the weight of Potter's palms on his thighs, the heat. They begin to softly stroke. Potter is being fucking tender, and despite himself, Draco's cock hardens again. Almost harder than it had been before. He opens his eyes again, stares into Potter's eyes, finding need and longing there. He pushes his dressing gown off his lap, watches Potter's eyes fall to his erection.
"Potter, shut the fuck up and suck my cock."
Potter's mouth twitches at the corners. Potter knows that's as good as an 'it's all right, I still want you' that he's going to get.
Draco practically feels his pupils dilate as Potter leans forward and licks the tip, looks up, then swallows his cock straight down all the way to the root.
He shudders, grips Potter's thick black hair with his hand, holds his head firmly in place and fucks his face slow and deep.
He stares down at Potter's closed eyes, watching his cock slipping past Potter's stretched lips. Potter relaxes his throat as Draco drives forward all the way and swallows around his cock, breathing heavily through his nose as Draco pulls back.
Potter was made to suck cock, though as the thought passes another follows, one that makes Draco slow his thrusts, his erection threatening to flag. How is Potter at eating fanny? Does he prefer it? He is, after all married to a woman, and happily according to him. And now they're having a child together. Draco is the third wheel for Potter, not part of the main pair.
He swallows, closing his eyes, choking back the bitterness rising in his throat and hoping to fucking hell that his eyes stay dry.
"Draco?" Potter's voice is low and a little hoarse. Idiot never does anything half-arsed even when it's hurting him. Draco opens his eyes and looks back down. Potter's face is pensive, worried. "Where are you right now?"
Draco smirks, though the motion feels forced. It won't do to tell Potter how far he's fallen. It would only open him up to more pain; better that Potter think Draco is supportive of Potter's happiness and really just in it for— bullshit. Potter knows. Draco can see it in his eyes. Potter knows he's smitten, and he likely suspects Draco is upset. That's not on.
Draco cocks an eyebrow and swings his legs onto the bed. He sheds his dressing gown and rests on his knees while Potter slowly climbs to his feet looking confused.
"I will be buried in your arse if you'd take off your fucking clothes already and get up here."
It's amazing to watch Potter strip off when he's excited. Draco spreads his legs, resting his back against the pillows and lazily stroking his half-mast cock while watching Potter trip over his own shoes and get his arms tangled in his haste to take off his jumper.
Potter finally clambers onto the bed, his glasses pushed up in his hair from where he'd pulled his shirt over his head, but his eyes are focussed solely on Draco. They radiate heat and want, and fuck it all if Draco's cock isn't leaking pre-come already just from his gaze. He makes a mental note to try to not let so much time pass between their future liaisons.
Potter shuts his mind up with his tongue. Draco sinks back against the pillows, pushed by Potter's full body weight lining them up cock to cock, his mouth plundered. It's all he can do to remember to breathe. He could drown under Potter's attention. He'd probably kill for it if it ever came to it, except Potter wouldn't stand for such a thing and … bollocks. He tells himself to calm down and to just focus on the now, what his body feels.
He rakes his hands through Potter's soft, yet utterly wrecked hair, plucking his glasses free. He tosses them off the side of the bed, not stopping from meeting Potter snog for snog.
Potter's five o'clock shadow rubs Draco's cheeks. It's rough and raw and so fucking hot, Draco doesn't want him to stop.
Potter pulls back an inch, gazing into Draco's eyes nose to nose, his fingers toying with the dripping tip of Draco's prick rubbing their foreskins together to share lubrication. "Your face is red. I think it's my fault."
His fucking voice is so deep, Draco can feel his vocal chords vibrate through his own skin.
"Turn around," Draco says, not bothering to respond to Potter's attempt at an apology for messing up his skin. "I want to eat you open while you get me wet."
Potter's eyelashes flutter slightly, the tip of his tongue darting forward to wet his lips, mouth still open, breathing as though he's a fucking dog panting.
It makes Draco smile. Bringing Harry Potter down to an animalistic level is his favourite pastime.
Potter smashes their mouths together for one more scratchy snog and then pulls back and turns around on all fours, crouching over Draco's legs and hips.
Draco's cock twitches while he watches Potter's body flush pink with embarrassment. It's fucking endearing to see Potter respond to dirty talk and yet open himself up without complaint for Draco to take. He closes his eyes as Potter backs up over his face. Inhales. The scent of clean man and throbbing bits is thick and so fucking raw and perfect; he nuzzles his face against Potter's fuzzy bollocks, drinking it in, letting them drag over his cheekbones, eyes, nose, mouth, until finally he just needs to taste.
Draco licks at Potter's sac as Potter's mouth envelops his cock, wet, warm, and fucking divine. Potter's moan vibrates through Draco's stomach and up his chest as he takes one ball into his mouth, rolls it with his tongue, and switches to the other.
These are the same balls that hold Potter's baby-making seed. Instead of turning him off, the idea plants itself in Draco's mind and he slips back, trailing saliva over Potter's perineum. He's hardly aware of what Potter's doing to him as he spreads Potter's arse open with his hands. He wants… Fuck he doesn't want to admit to how much he wants right now. Instead he coaxes Potter's hole open with his tongue. Long flat licks, followed by wriggling prods.
Potter sounds like he's choking. He pops off Draco's cock with a wet squelch, thighs trembling, and Draco delves inside even further, one hand propping Potter's cheeks apart and the other teasing the head of Potter's cock where it drags through a pool of slick pre-come on Draco's chest.
Draco works a finger in alongside his tongue and hums into Potter's depths. Potter, the fertile husband with his fully functional cock and balls is whimpering under the simple press of Draco's fingertip against his prostate.
Potter takes Draco back into his mouth with earnest, nearly bringing him to orgasm in an instant, but Draco pulls back, still fucking Potter's hole with his finger.
"You like my cock, Potter?"
Potter moans again, his mouth seeming to grow even hotter and wetter. He sucks more earnestly, almost as if he's trying to swallow Draco's cock all the way down.
Draco gasps, rubs Potter's prostate directly, tickling his orgasm out of him. "Trying to swallow it all down so my super potent sperm won't have a chance to make you pregnant?"
Potter stiffens, even as Draco's eyes fly open wide at his own words. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but Potter's coming. It's all over his chest and stomach and Potter's cock drags through the mess, smearing it everywhere until his thighs and arms are trembling so hard he's going to buckle.
Draco pushes him off and rolls to the side, righting himself. His cock is rock hard and his balls full to bursting. He strokes Potter's stomach, down to his bollocks. He grips them as Potter comes down, swears he can feel Potter's pulse through them. Fuck it all.
He straddles Potter's hips and slots their cocks side by side, slick with come and sweat, his hands moving up Potter's chest until their eyes meet. He flushes. "You like the idea of me coming inside your fertile arse, filling you full of my potent seed, putting my baby inside you like nobody else ever could?" His brain is leaking out of his mouth as he ruts against Potter, beyond the point of backtracking. But the awe in Potter's eyes isn't helping him regain control.
"Fuck, Draco," Potter rasps. He lifts his hips upwards, thrusting alongside Draco, still hard.
Draco's gone. He's got to be off his nut. A droplet of sweat falls from his nose and splashes on Potter's chest. His ponytail is heavy on his back making him even hotter. "I need to hear you say it, Harry." He hesitates. He's just called Potter by his first name, but the way Potter's looking at him, the whimpers escaping his throat, decides that it wasn't a misstep but a perfect strategy. Harry's getting off on the idea too. "Tell me where you want my cock," Draco breathes, his voice low and rough. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
Harry lifts his hand to Draco's hair and pulls on the strip of ribbon that ties it out of his face. It falls forward, brushing over Draco's shoulders. He shudders at the sight and Draco smirks down at him, deciding against accusing him of having a Lucius kink.
"I want you to make me pregnant, Draco," Harry says. Fuck. How can he say it with a straight face? Why does the idea strike Draco so fucking deep that all he wants to do is exactly that? "Put your baby inside me."
Harry draws his legs back, holding on to the backs of his knees to expose his hole to Draco.
Draco stares, transfixed by Harry's invitation. He covers Harry's hands with his own and pushes his legs back further, his cock head flushed hot red and peeking out from his retreating foreskin.
Harry slips his hands out from under Draco's and settles his legs on Draco's shoulders, hips struggling against Draco's grip as his hole clenches and relaxes, almost trying to find Draco's cock and suck it up inside itself.
"Please–" Harry's voice cracks, interrupted by a gasp when Draco presses forward, resting the head of his cock against Harry's entrance, and allows it to swallow him up inch by agonising inch.
"Oh, fuck." Draco shudders, stilling, not wanting it to end too soon. He's so close to the edge already.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight, breathing slow and deep until Harry clenches his hole and Draco has to plunge ahead all the way lest his cock be pushed out.
Fully sheathed, he meets Harry's eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Though the ability to produce a child together is a pure fantasy, right here and now, together, they are suspending reality and accepting the dream as truth.
He begins to thrust, angling his hips and gripping Harry's thighs in a well practiced position that will bring them off fast.
"Tell me when," Draco grunts, sweat sliding from his temples down his jawline. "The magic happens when we come–" pauses to breathe past the urge to come, starts his thrusts again "–at the same time."
Harry appears to hold his breath, his face flushed, hand working his own cock with a single-minded determination. His breaths start to stutter in small gasps while Draco struggles to hold back, just a little longer, focussing on Harry's leaking cock head, pre-come slicking his fist, making a filthy, brilliant squelching sound.
In a second Draco won't be able to hold back. The heat of Harry's hole gripping him slick and tight is going to undo him.
"Now!"
Harry's shout is like music. Draco's voice joins the chorus though he's not aware of what he's saying. He's coming in waves, pumping his seed inside of Harry, watching Harry's release spilling over his fist and slipping down his side – so much come, Draco swears the sight makes him come a second time.
They return from their high with ragged breaths, the thick heavy scent of raw man in their noses.
Harry's legs tremble and Draco realises he's shivering too. Harry drops his legs, reaches up and pulls Draco down on top of him. Draco goes with it, melting like softened wax as he moulds himself to Harry's body, sealed at their mouths, his softened cock slipping out with a pool of hot come.
~x~
Lying in a tangle of limbs, Draco can't seem to get his mouth to function properly. He pushes his face into Harry's neck to keep the fact he can't stop grinning like a fucking idiot a secret, though if Harry doesn't stop stroking his hair, he may be unable to make a straight face ever again.
He presses his lips to Harry's neck, kisses up under his earlobe, nuzzles his nose in the five o'clock shadow, to buy himself some time and attempt to regain control of himself. Harry ruins his plans when he grips Draco's hand and plants it on his belly, sticky with cooling come and perspiration.
"Think about how hot it will be when your baby makes my stomach swell. I might need your help with wanking since it will be hard to reach."
He lifts his head, staring incredulously at this ridiculous man. Harry's mouth stretches into a huge smile and his eyes fucking twinkle.
Draco narrows his eyes. "What's so funny?"
Harry smirks and gives a slight shrug. "I like making babies with you. I think we should try again as soon as we recover."
Draco's face goes hot, but rather than let Harry know his goading is working, Draco takes it in stride. If he's perfectly honest with himself, he'd like to try it again straight away too. He rolls over on his back, head resting on Harry's bicep while Harry's hand strokes his chest, cradling him in a half-hug. He thinks it might not be such a chore to make a baby with Astoria. Just the idea of bringing another life into the world may be enough to make it work without a potion.
"Astoria's seeing a fertility specialist in Hamburg." He's not sure why he's telling this to Harry, but it feels like the right thing to do.
"Yeah? Has there been a problem?" Harry stammers then. "Well, I mean… it's not my place…"
Draco turns his head, meets Harry's eyes. Is that jealousy he sees? Draco's smirk is back. "Potter, it's all right. The only problem there has been is a contraceptive potion I've been using. I haven't told her I'm sabotaging our efforts." He stops, looks at Harry's face, thinks he spots traces of guilt or perhaps shame. "I'm going to stop taking it when she gets back. If we get lucky our children might be at Hogwarts together." He lies back on Harry's arm again, closes his eyes as he gets comfortable. "Who knows, they might even be friends."
Harry's quiet for a long moment and Draco starts to wonder if he's fallen asleep. He opens his eyes a crack and peers at Harry, finding him studying the ceiling. Draco nudges him in the ribs.
"If men really could get pregnant in the wizarding world, would you even bother with Astoria?" He sounds a bit fragile. Inexplicably Draco's heart leaps to hear that.
"Well, it's more than just producing an heir. It's all about tradition…" Harry's eyes close and Draco swears they looked a bit shiny. His heart skips a beat. "But honestly…" He swallows and snuggles against Harry's neck, draping his body along Harry's side. "If I could have things my way, I'd have you all to myself and keep you pregnant all the time."
He can feel Harry's mood lift, hear him smile almost, his eyes closed. Harry's voice rumbles under Draco's ear, sending a warm sensation curling through his entire body. "I love you, Draco."
Harry's stroking his hair again, rubbing Draco's scalp with strong fingers and making him want to purr. A pregnant pause hangs between them until…
"I love you too, Po– Harry."
– End –
- 1
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Give Me All You Can