![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Bwahaaa...
Okay, it's a fact. I CAN'T WRITE A BLEEPING DRABBLE. I CAN'T. It always balloons out into something huge and crazy. I think I've written about... four drabbles in my life. *sigh* Oh well.
This fic is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jexay because he has been under the weather. My poor baby boy is feeling a little... well, *ahem* he prompted me with H/D, first time something, and Confused-about-Muggles!Draco. I tried to get all that in, and here it is. Sorry, it's a bit rough around the edges still. Hope you like, love!
Title: Harry Learns a New Skill
Author: me
Pairing: H/D, post-Hogwarts
Rating: Hard R (if people think it should be higher, PLEASE TELL ME.)
Summary: Harry's about to get a lesson from his boyfriend.
Disclaimer: Boys aren't mine. Totally aren't. It's really too bad.
“Ohhh, Draco, that’s, mmm, but um, Draco?”
“Shut up, Harry.”
“Yes. But. Draco, maybe you should, uh, wait a bit.”
Harry was being awfully annoying. Draco couldn’t remember when he’d been more peeved at the man. In a good way, that is. Harry was quite talkative at these times anyway, and this time he really seemed to have something to fidget about. Just a second ago, it had been the “bloody neighbors across the way” and their “rubbish music booming at all hours”. But Draco preferred not to think about that. What he preferred to think about was the pale skin of Harry’s neck and how long he would have to suck on it to give him a hickey that wouldn’t up and disappear the very next morning.
But Draco knew Harry’s way. Ignoring him usually did the trick, and then Harry would… well, he wouldn’t exactly shut up, but often times he became quite incoherent, and that was almost just as good. Draco liked incoherent Harry. Very much.
“Draco, people are um, starting to stare.”
“Tell them to fuck off then, why don’t you?”
“Well, I don’t think they would- hey! Oh god…”
Finally. Down the Well of Incoherency. A hallowed place. Draco would have to find its exact spot on the map and build a shrine to it later.
But then Harry began tapping him incessantly on the shoulder. “Draco, I’m really beginning to think we should go home.”
“Why. S’as good a place as any.”
“Draco, what exactly have you been drinking, if I may ask—ah!”
Draco fumbled to his right with one hand, knocked over the salt shaker and a napkin holder, and finally found one of his empty bottles. He shoved it triumphantly into Harry’s hand and went back to snogging his boyfriend’s throat. After all, who needed another mouth, really, when there was all this beautiful skin to lick?
“Smirnoff Ice? That’s what you’ve been drinking all night?”
“Mmm, third one was rather sour. Hold still, I can’t reach your arse when you keep wiggling like that.”
Harry abruptly shoved Draco off his lap and stood. His face was flushed, but his green eyes were bright and he was biting his lip. Draco sensed with foggy annoyance that he was being laughed at silently.
“What the fuck?”
Harry grabbed his arm in one hand and their coats in the other, and pulled Draco out of the pub. Draco saw several people gaping at him quite openly, and promptly leered back at them. In all honesty, he could not come up with a reason for Harry’s odd behavior. It was warm in here, and Draco certainly did not relish the idea of fondling his boyfriend in the cold. And he was getting antsy. It was hard to walk; the world kept jumping about and fuzzing up on him. And Harry still had that damnable smirk lying just under his eyes.
When they got outside, Harry yanked Draco into a little alleyway and gave up the pretense of holding back his laughter. Draco wrenched his arm free and glared at his boyfriend. “What the hell are you laughing at? And what the fuck was that all about anyway? It was warm in there, and that chair was comfortable, and I was just about to make you comfortable, too, and stick my hand down—”
Harry’s wand was suddenly in his hand. “Sobriesis,” the dark haired man said, barely able to get the word out between his chuckles. Draco had one instant of dull incomprehensible staring, and then the world swung upright and slammed back into place. He blinked and staggered backward. The chill hit him like a bowl of ice water into his face and he finally realized that all that white stuff he’d been wondering about was snow.
When Draco looked back at Harry, he found his boyfriend grinning openly at him and shaking his head. Draco’s hackles rose and he opened his mouth… and abruptly saw the state of Harry’s clothing. His trousers were wrinkled, his tie was looped crookedly around his neck, and his shirt was gaping, showing a generous swath of pale goose-pimply skin.
Draco couldn’t see his own face, but it must have been the color of Gryffindor House, if he was going by how hot it felt.
“Salazar,” was all he managed.
Harry burst into a loud guffaw and tried to grab onto Draco for balance, but Draco pulled away, cursing to himself. “Shut up, Potter! Just—shut up!”
Harry was giggling uncontrollably. “Oh, come on, Draco! That was bloody hilarious. Who in the wizarding world knew Draco Malfoy couldn’t hold his liquor?”
“I don’t usually drink Muggle rubbish! It’s not my fault.”
Harry goggled at him incredulously. “But Smirnoff Ice? Come on.”
Draco jerked his jacket from Harry’s hand and struggled into it, fumbling for his wand. He cast a snappish sobriety spell on his laughing boyfriend, but it seemed to do almost nothing to the amount of tittering and chuckling and downright annoying sounds coming from the other man. Draco spun around and shoved his hands in his pockets, determined to march right out of that alleyway and find his own way home. If he could. He didn’t really know where they were, but that was completely beside the point.
Harry grabbed his arm and halted his progress, tugging Draco further into the alley. “Come on, Draco, let’s just Apparate. I have tea at my flat. Or coffee.”
“And who says I’m going to your flat?” Draco muttered sullenly.
Harry grinned at him. “I do.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed Harry to pull him close into the shadow of the pub. They both cast surreptitious glances in either direction, then Apparated. Draco actually heard the pop as they appeared just feet away from the door to Harry’s flat.
His boyfriend had taken to chuckling again.
“That was too funny. I should take you to Muggle pubs more often.”
Draco glared at Harry’s back as the other man unlocked the door with an intricate wave of his wand. “You could have stopped me from behaving like such a fool.”
Harry shot an amused look at him. “I tried, but you were somewhat preoccupied.”
Draco grumbled to himself, hunching his shoulders. It was high time to plot all sorts of nasty vengeance against his boyfriend. If he could just think of something, that is. “What’s the matter, Potter? Afraid I was going to shag you in front of the entire pub?”
“I was starting to wonder.” Harry laughed, shaking his head and opening the door. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry, not really. It wouldn’t have made sense anyway. You are much too uptight to do anything like that in public.”
Draco stopped abruptly, still halfway out in the hallway. “Are you saying I’m predictable?”
Harry waved a hand absently and turned to hang his coat on the rack inside. “Oh, you know you are.”
Draco took one instant to consider his words, and then he was inside the flat, slamming the door shut and grabbing Harry’s collar. His boyfriend gave a startled cry as Draco shoved him back against the now closed door. “Draco, what are you – Ohgod.”
Not incredibly inarticulate considering where Draco’s hand was. He kissed Harry thoroughly, sweeping the inside of his mouth and making him moan. The sound became strangled as Draco rubbed Harry through his trousers.
“Draco,” his boyfriend gasped, turning his head aside. “Window’s open.”
Draco nodded, smirking his way down Harry’s throat. “I’m sure it is.”
“But – but the neighbors will hear!” Harry blinked and choked on his own inhalation as Draco’s hand slid down further, around the inside of his thigh. “And… apparently see as well.”
Draco paused his lip service, but not that of his hand, and turned to glance out the massive bay window. The pride of this particular flat. Unfortunately, it also looked almost directly across the quiet street into a similar window, where there seemed to be a rather noisy and well-populated party going on.
“Ah, but we hate them, don’t we? They make entirely too much noise.”
“But Draco,” Harry spluttered. “What – we don’t hate them!”
Draco raised an eyebrow and pinched Harry’s behind, making him squeak. “I distinctly remember someone saying, earlier tonight actually, how ‘obnoxiously pompous and downright cacophonous those blasted wankers have been all week.’ Quite impressive words, I thought at the time. I find it most interesting that you seem to get smarter as you get drunker, Harry.”
The man in question squirmed, hissing under Draco’s nimble fingers. “Yes, well. I’m sure that’s your fault. All that pureblood instruction seeping into my p… pores…” The last word came out in a sudden whoosh of breath and Harry’s legs nearly crumpled right then and there. Draco steadied him just in time.
“Alright there, Potter?”
Harry huffed. “I will be if you don’t do that again.”
“How about this instead?” Draco chose another activity, which happened to involve cupping Harry rather firmly between the legs. Harry’s defeated groan made Draco want to laugh. He settled for smirking, filing that delicious annoyance-absolutely-drowned-in-lust twinge to his boyfriend’s voice into his memory for a later date.
“What would be the fun in that?” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear. He could feel the rapid hot puffs of air against his cheek, the almost painful clutch of Harry’s hands on his forearms. After several glorious seconds, he finally gave the other man some relief, and Harry sighed, slumping his head onto his shoulder.
“Liked that?”
“Ohhhhh, yes,” Harry murmured in a dazed voice.
“Angry at your trousers for dulling the sensation?”
“Ohhhhhhh… yes. Trousers are bad.”
Draco hummed gently in his throat, smoothing his hands down Harry’s shoulders and sides. “Want something more?”
“Ohhhh, ye—wait, what?”
Draco had already found Harry’s belt buckle and was sliding the stiff leather free. Harry blinked at him confusedly, then dropped his eyes to Draco’s hands. For his part, Draco cocked his head and smiled, intent on the smooth very suave-if-he-did-say-so-himself motions of his fingers on Harry’s buttons. There were four, and they were hard to open, these trousers being new and all. But when it came to Harry, Draco had enough patience for five other people, though he’d be damned if he shared a second of their alone time with any of those five.
He managed the first two buttons, and then Harry’s hands suddenly fixed on his wrists.
“Draco, what are you going to do?”
Draco paused and looked at him carefully. Harry’s eyes were wide, dilated, his throat working as he swallowed. Draco ran one finger down Harry’s flushed cheek. “I’m not going to go all the way, Harry. I know you’re not ready for that yet.”
Harry gave him a shaky nod and a weak smile. “It’s not about you,” he said as Draco eased the last two buttons free. “I mean, I don’t want you to think—”
“Oh, I am well aware it’s not about me. How could it be? I’m perfect.” Draco grinned wickedly up at Harry. “But don’t you think for one second that I’m going to let you get away tonight without coming at least once.”
Harry bit his lip, a smile breaking over his face. “Blowjob?”
“Frottage,” Draco said matter-of-factly.
The odd fear came back into Harry’s eyes. “What’s that?”
Draco slid Harry’s trousers down, picking up each of his boyfriend’s feet carefully and tugging his shoes off along with the offending garment. Then he pushed his own trousers off, shaking a caught foot free of the cloth. “Hmm… Explaining it sort of takes away the fun. Why don’t we get started, and we’ll see how you like it?”
Harry nodded hesitantly, looking between them at their matching erections. He linked his hands around Draco’s neck and frowned down intently. Draco almost laughed.
“Would you relax? I’m making no attempt on your precious virgin arse.”
“Not technically, anyway,” Harry muttered. He looked up at Draco, a puzzled expression on his face. “Well… what do I do?”
“Whatever feels right,” Draco answered in a sing-song voice.
Harry pursed his lips. “That doesn’t help me at all, you kn—Ah!”
For Draco had just nudged Harry’s hips forward, pressing himself against him. He thrust experimentally and Harry’s body jerked. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his eyes rolled back into his head. Draco pushed his hips into his again, thrusting slightly upward, and Harry gave a low cry. His body began to frantically return Draco’s movements. The urgency surprised and delighted Draco, and he cupped his hand against the back of Harry’s neck, kissing his cheek. He whispered into his boyfriend’s ear.
“Harry.”
The body against his froze abruptly. When Draco pulled back to look at Harry, he saw that his cheeks had blossomed into two bright red patches. Harry dropped his eyes.
His voice sounded very small. “I did something wrong.”
Draco snorted. He grabbed Harry’s chin with one hand and kissed him hard. “Fuck, Harry, no you didn’t. I was just thinking what a minx you’re turning out to be.”
A shy smile lined with something mischievous graced Harry’s lips. “If I am, it’s all your fault.”
Draco couldn’t stop himself, he just couldn’t. He gripped Harry’s hip with his free hand and pulled him roughly against him. Harry gasped, clutching his shoulder, and began to move with him. But after the first thrust, Harry coupled it with a timid gyration.
Draco’s grin was absolutely brilliant now. “Gods, am I ever going to enjoy teaching you about sex, Harry.”
Whatever his boyfriend intended to say was absorbed in a shaky moan. Draco pressed him back to the door and bent to lick his throat. Harry’s voice came to his ear, low and full of heat. “Draco, what if I… if I wanted to, um.”
Harry’s skin was slick with sweat, and their hips and thighs slid against each other in a manner that was almost painful, almost ticklish. Needing to be resolved. But… Harry. As agonizing as it was, Draco slowed his own motions to look at his boyfriend, waiting for him to continue. But the other man seemed at a loss for words.
“What?” Draco prompted, struggling to keep his voice soft and calm. It wouldn’t do to have Harry sense how intoxicated he was feeling right now, as if they had never used those sobriety spells. This was new for Harry. Draco had to control himself.
“Um… if I…”
Draco smirked and shook his head. “Surprise me, Harry.”
His boyfriend turned redder than their current exertion accounted for and bit his lip. Draco waited for a moment, and then resigned himself to the fact that whatever it was, Harry had lost his nerve. And that wasn’t a problem, he reasoned, guiding Harry’s hips in a rolling, stroking rhythm against his. They had all the time in the world for Harry to figure this out. Draco was in no rush, not when it came right down to the nitty-gritty.
Which was why when Harry leaned against the door and began to push hard on his shoulders, Draco grew a little afraid he’d done something to hurt him. Maybe Harry just wanted that blowjob after all. It disappointed Draco; no matter how he looked at it, at some point he wanted to have sex with Harry. Go all the way. Definitely. Didn’t matter who penetrated whom. And the fact that Draco could care less about hopping right into the sack with this man immediately was something unique enough to warrant its own analysis. But they were supposed to be moving in a forward motion, and they’d already given each other blowjobs. Harry was getting quite good at it, actually.
But Draco had hoped for something a little closer to the actual act of penetrative sex this time. And Harry was pushing on his shoulders and leaning away instead.
Draco had just sighed and resigned himself to taking that other step tomorrow, when Harry inhaled sharply and brought one leg up around Draco’s waist, followed quickly by the other. Draco suddenly had his arms full of his boyfriend and he nearly fell. Luckily he nearly fell forward, pressing Harry’s upper back into the door. But Harry’s legs dropped away from his waist anyway.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to—”
Draco stilled him with a look. “Harry, that was hot.”
“It… it was?”
“Fuck, yes. Let’s try this again.”
This time he helped lift Harry enough for the other man to hook his ankles around him. Harry smiled sheepishly. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, but you said do what feels right, and I thought… well.”
Draco ran his hands over the damp skin under Harry’s shirt. “Well nothing. This works. But not for long; my legs aren’t that strong and I had quite a bit of alcohol tonight. Sobriety spells are only temporary, you know.”
“What’s this called again?”
“Fr… frottage,” Draco managed, appalled at how breathy his voice was beginning to sound. Harry wriggled against him, rubbing their erections together and catching Draco’s mouth in a heady kiss.
“Well, I like it. How long does it usually last?”
Draco lipped his jaw, breathing Harry’s sweaty scent in through his nose. “I think once I went for three minutes. But this one’s going to be a hell of a lot faster.”
“Why?” Harry’s voice quavered slightly in his ear. “Because I’m… because I can’t last?”
“No,” Draco said, touching their foreheads. “Because you make me come a hell of a lot quicker than anyone else ever could.”
Harry’s eyes widened. His expression was so painfully amazed it stretched something taut in Draco’s chest. His erection twitched agonizingly against Harry’s. Just from fucking looking at him.
There was nothing else for it. Draco didn’t want to analyze himself anyway, and that sort of thought process was bound to take quite some time. He would deal with what sort of power Harry held over him later, after he’d taken care of a certain something. When Harry moaned and thrust against him lightly, Draco amended that. All right, two certain somethings.
No matter. One usually led to the other in short order. At least Draco wouldn’t have to address his recent baffling experience of having come untouched. Two days ago. It seemed longer. Giving blow jobs to Harry Potter was apparently something altogether new and exciting for Draco’s body. Draco had never managed to satisfy himself with merely touching someone else’s body… before hooking up with his current boyfriend.
But. That was two days ago. This was tonight. And if Draco didn’t find a way to bring Harry off first, he was going to have to resort to something entirely different. He didn’t think his legs would hold up to this brand of frottage post-orgasm.
Draco pushed Harry back against the wall a little more roughly than he’d planned. Harry’s fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“You all right?” Draco managed.
“How can you possibly ask me that?” Harry panted, using the wall to rub himself against Draco. “Of course I’m not alright.”
“I meant your head.”
“Oh.” The head in question dropped back against the wall and Harry shut his eyes, drawing in his breath in a long hiss. “Yeah. That head’s fine. But the other one feels a bit… full.”
Draco snorted, nearly dropping Harry in his sudden mirth. “That was beautiful, Potter.” He grabbed Harry’s hips and rocked himself hard against his boyfriend’s body. Pleasure was beginning to flood up from his groin in slow, sensual pulses. He peered at Harry’s face past the haze in his own eyes. “How close… are you?”
Harry was biting his lip so hard Draco wanted to stick his fingers in between and open his mouth. He didn’t want Harry bleeding. The other man’s head dipped, forehead coming to rest on Draco’s shoulder. Two words wrenched themselves from Harry’s throat. “Fucking close.”
Draco grinned. He steadied Harry’s body against the wall, widened his stance to support him, and moved one hand to his boyfriend’s length. Harry let out a small cry. Yes, he was fucking close.
Draco loved him like that.
He began to whisper in Harry’s ear, fast sharp words, all running together. It was something he’d discovered about Harry. Hearing what was happening to Draco at the moment it was happening made the other man absolutely helpless in the throes of his orgasm. It was the most amazing thing to watch, and Draco hadn’t been able to do it recently, seeing as the way he tended to bring Harry off included having a mouth full of a certain something. But now…
“You make me come so hard, Harry, your body gets so hot, I can barely breathe just looking at you—”
“Canseeus.”
Draco halted for an instant, still gripping Harry in one hand. “What?”
Harry lifted his head and met Draco’s gaze. His eyes were round, mouth working silently. He swallowed and tried again. “They can see us. The neighbors!”
Whether it was the words or the absolutely appalled look in Harry’s eyes, Draco’s body shuddered. He was going to come, but by Salazar, he was taking Harry with him. He stroked his boyfriend hard and grinned. “Good.”
Harry shot him a look that was as full of embarrassment as it was of lust, but Draco didn’t give him time to think. He quickened his movements, latching onto Harry’s throat with his mouth. Harry groaned and tightened his legs around Draco’s body. His hips began to quiver against Draco’s. Any second now. Draco took a deep breath and prayed his voice would be there when he opened his mouth.
“They can see this, Harry, they can watch us now, but they won’t get to see the night when I make you come from the inside, that’s only for you and me—”
Harry arched incredibly hard and came with a cry, squeezing Draco so tightly that whatever breath he had left deserted him. Draco rolled his hips upward as vigorously as he could and his orgasm flowed over him. He was vaguely aware of Harry’s mouth on his face, a series of wet, shaky kisses. It was all he could do to continue to stand upright. Slowly, Harry’s legs loosened and dropped away from his waist. Harry collapsed back against the wall and Draco leaned into him, trying to catch his breath.
“I’ll say this for you, Harry,” he murmured. He felt like he was in a fog. “You come, and it’s bloody contagious.”
“Draco,” Harry said in a hushed voice. “They’re watching.”
For a moment Draco had no idea what he was talking about. But when he saw the embarrassment on his boyfriend’s face, it clicked and he turned his head.
And looked right through Harry’s big picture window, across the street, and through the similar window there to see four people staring buggy-eyed back at him. Three girls and a guy. They were plastered against the glass. One of the girls was absolutely slack-jawed.
Draco froze. He heard Harry swallow. It had all seemed so marvelous, making Harry come in front of an audience, who he really hadn’t thought would have an adequate view of their activities anyway. But it was plain that if they hadn’t seen everything, they’d seen quite a bit. And Harry looked mortified. All of a sudden Draco hated himself. What had he been thinking? He looked down at the floor, trying to come up with something that could fix it all, something to make Harry not hate him for this.
His gaze flicked up and caught Harry’s for a long instant.
And then Harry raised his hand and… waved. At the people across the street. Draco followed the exuberant gesture, and when he looked back, the other man was grinning at him sheepishly. A laugh burst from Draco and Harry snorted, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Here,” Draco managed, still chuckling, “let’s see what they do with this.”
He turned, looked right at the gawkers – who were now looking quite flabbergasted – and flicked his fingers, whispering a word. An instant later, the window across the street fogged up completely. Harry gave a shout of laughter. The party-goers in the other flat began trying to wipe the condensation away, frenzied hands flying. But Draco just waved his hand again and Harry’s drapes flopped down over the bay window, concealing them from view.
Harry snickered and cupped Draco’s chin, turning his face back. “You could get in trouble for that.”
Draco smirked. “Would have happened eventually anyway, with all the gasping they were doing.”
Harry grinned and shook his head. Draco settled against him, wrapping his arms around the sweaty body beneath his. Harry’s shirt hadn’t made it all the way off. It was rolled up under his arms. The tie was even more disheveled than before. Draco thought it looked charming.
“So that’s frottage,” Harry said thoughtfully.
Draco nodded, nuzzling into his boyfriend’s throat. “More or less. Did you like it?”
Harry snorted. “If you have to ask, then you’re not as intelligent as I first thought.”
Draco glared at him, slapping his ass lightly with one hand. “Just wanted to be sure. It’s a big step. And yes. I know you still aren’t ready for anything else.”
Harry looked at him for a moment. A slow smile slid over his face. “Maybe not. But there’s no doubt in my mind that when I am ready, you’re the one I want inside me when I lose my virginity.”
Draco had no idea he could get aroused again so fast.
Harry started to say something, but Draco cut him off. He himself wasn’t hard again yet, certainly, but that was just a minor detail. Easily remedied. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry’s ear lobe. The other man gasped.
“Now, Harry,” Draco whispered silkily. “About that blowjob…”
Okay, it's a fact. I CAN'T WRITE A BLEEPING DRABBLE. I CAN'T. It always balloons out into something huge and crazy. I think I've written about... four drabbles in my life. *sigh* Oh well.
This fic is for
jexay because he has been under the weather. My poor baby boy is feeling a little... well, *ahem* he prompted me with H/D, first time something, and Confused-about-Muggles!Draco. I tried to get all that in, and here it is. Sorry, it's a bit rough around the edges still. Hope you like, love!Title: Harry Learns a New Skill
Author: me
Pairing: H/D, post-Hogwarts
Rating: Hard R (if people think it should be higher, PLEASE TELL ME.)
Summary: Harry's about to get a lesson from his boyfriend.
Disclaimer: Boys aren't mine. Totally aren't. It's really too bad.
“Ohhh, Draco, that’s, mmm, but um, Draco?”
“Shut up, Harry.”
“Yes. But. Draco, maybe you should, uh, wait a bit.”
Harry was being awfully annoying. Draco couldn’t remember when he’d been more peeved at the man. In a good way, that is. Harry was quite talkative at these times anyway, and this time he really seemed to have something to fidget about. Just a second ago, it had been the “bloody neighbors across the way” and their “rubbish music booming at all hours”. But Draco preferred not to think about that. What he preferred to think about was the pale skin of Harry’s neck and how long he would have to suck on it to give him a hickey that wouldn’t up and disappear the very next morning.
But Draco knew Harry’s way. Ignoring him usually did the trick, and then Harry would… well, he wouldn’t exactly shut up, but often times he became quite incoherent, and that was almost just as good. Draco liked incoherent Harry. Very much.
“Draco, people are um, starting to stare.”
“Tell them to fuck off then, why don’t you?”
“Well, I don’t think they would- hey! Oh god…”
Finally. Down the Well of Incoherency. A hallowed place. Draco would have to find its exact spot on the map and build a shrine to it later.
But then Harry began tapping him incessantly on the shoulder. “Draco, I’m really beginning to think we should go home.”
“Why. S’as good a place as any.”
“Draco, what exactly have you been drinking, if I may ask—ah!”
Draco fumbled to his right with one hand, knocked over the salt shaker and a napkin holder, and finally found one of his empty bottles. He shoved it triumphantly into Harry’s hand and went back to snogging his boyfriend’s throat. After all, who needed another mouth, really, when there was all this beautiful skin to lick?
“Smirnoff Ice? That’s what you’ve been drinking all night?”
“Mmm, third one was rather sour. Hold still, I can’t reach your arse when you keep wiggling like that.”
Harry abruptly shoved Draco off his lap and stood. His face was flushed, but his green eyes were bright and he was biting his lip. Draco sensed with foggy annoyance that he was being laughed at silently.
“What the fuck?”
Harry grabbed his arm in one hand and their coats in the other, and pulled Draco out of the pub. Draco saw several people gaping at him quite openly, and promptly leered back at them. In all honesty, he could not come up with a reason for Harry’s odd behavior. It was warm in here, and Draco certainly did not relish the idea of fondling his boyfriend in the cold. And he was getting antsy. It was hard to walk; the world kept jumping about and fuzzing up on him. And Harry still had that damnable smirk lying just under his eyes.
When they got outside, Harry yanked Draco into a little alleyway and gave up the pretense of holding back his laughter. Draco wrenched his arm free and glared at his boyfriend. “What the hell are you laughing at? And what the fuck was that all about anyway? It was warm in there, and that chair was comfortable, and I was just about to make you comfortable, too, and stick my hand down—”
Harry’s wand was suddenly in his hand. “Sobriesis,” the dark haired man said, barely able to get the word out between his chuckles. Draco had one instant of dull incomprehensible staring, and then the world swung upright and slammed back into place. He blinked and staggered backward. The chill hit him like a bowl of ice water into his face and he finally realized that all that white stuff he’d been wondering about was snow.
When Draco looked back at Harry, he found his boyfriend grinning openly at him and shaking his head. Draco’s hackles rose and he opened his mouth… and abruptly saw the state of Harry’s clothing. His trousers were wrinkled, his tie was looped crookedly around his neck, and his shirt was gaping, showing a generous swath of pale goose-pimply skin.
Draco couldn’t see his own face, but it must have been the color of Gryffindor House, if he was going by how hot it felt.
“Salazar,” was all he managed.
Harry burst into a loud guffaw and tried to grab onto Draco for balance, but Draco pulled away, cursing to himself. “Shut up, Potter! Just—shut up!”
Harry was giggling uncontrollably. “Oh, come on, Draco! That was bloody hilarious. Who in the wizarding world knew Draco Malfoy couldn’t hold his liquor?”
“I don’t usually drink Muggle rubbish! It’s not my fault.”
Harry goggled at him incredulously. “But Smirnoff Ice? Come on.”
Draco jerked his jacket from Harry’s hand and struggled into it, fumbling for his wand. He cast a snappish sobriety spell on his laughing boyfriend, but it seemed to do almost nothing to the amount of tittering and chuckling and downright annoying sounds coming from the other man. Draco spun around and shoved his hands in his pockets, determined to march right out of that alleyway and find his own way home. If he could. He didn’t really know where they were, but that was completely beside the point.
Harry grabbed his arm and halted his progress, tugging Draco further into the alley. “Come on, Draco, let’s just Apparate. I have tea at my flat. Or coffee.”
“And who says I’m going to your flat?” Draco muttered sullenly.
Harry grinned at him. “I do.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed Harry to pull him close into the shadow of the pub. They both cast surreptitious glances in either direction, then Apparated. Draco actually heard the pop as they appeared just feet away from the door to Harry’s flat.
His boyfriend had taken to chuckling again.
“That was too funny. I should take you to Muggle pubs more often.”
Draco glared at Harry’s back as the other man unlocked the door with an intricate wave of his wand. “You could have stopped me from behaving like such a fool.”
Harry shot an amused look at him. “I tried, but you were somewhat preoccupied.”
Draco grumbled to himself, hunching his shoulders. It was high time to plot all sorts of nasty vengeance against his boyfriend. If he could just think of something, that is. “What’s the matter, Potter? Afraid I was going to shag you in front of the entire pub?”
“I was starting to wonder.” Harry laughed, shaking his head and opening the door. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry, not really. It wouldn’t have made sense anyway. You are much too uptight to do anything like that in public.”
Draco stopped abruptly, still halfway out in the hallway. “Are you saying I’m predictable?”
Harry waved a hand absently and turned to hang his coat on the rack inside. “Oh, you know you are.”
Draco took one instant to consider his words, and then he was inside the flat, slamming the door shut and grabbing Harry’s collar. His boyfriend gave a startled cry as Draco shoved him back against the now closed door. “Draco, what are you – Ohgod.”
Not incredibly inarticulate considering where Draco’s hand was. He kissed Harry thoroughly, sweeping the inside of his mouth and making him moan. The sound became strangled as Draco rubbed Harry through his trousers.
“Draco,” his boyfriend gasped, turning his head aside. “Window’s open.”
Draco nodded, smirking his way down Harry’s throat. “I’m sure it is.”
“But – but the neighbors will hear!” Harry blinked and choked on his own inhalation as Draco’s hand slid down further, around the inside of his thigh. “And… apparently see as well.”
Draco paused his lip service, but not that of his hand, and turned to glance out the massive bay window. The pride of this particular flat. Unfortunately, it also looked almost directly across the quiet street into a similar window, where there seemed to be a rather noisy and well-populated party going on.
“Ah, but we hate them, don’t we? They make entirely too much noise.”
“But Draco,” Harry spluttered. “What – we don’t hate them!”
Draco raised an eyebrow and pinched Harry’s behind, making him squeak. “I distinctly remember someone saying, earlier tonight actually, how ‘obnoxiously pompous and downright cacophonous those blasted wankers have been all week.’ Quite impressive words, I thought at the time. I find it most interesting that you seem to get smarter as you get drunker, Harry.”
The man in question squirmed, hissing under Draco’s nimble fingers. “Yes, well. I’m sure that’s your fault. All that pureblood instruction seeping into my p… pores…” The last word came out in a sudden whoosh of breath and Harry’s legs nearly crumpled right then and there. Draco steadied him just in time.
“Alright there, Potter?”
Harry huffed. “I will be if you don’t do that again.”
“How about this instead?” Draco chose another activity, which happened to involve cupping Harry rather firmly between the legs. Harry’s defeated groan made Draco want to laugh. He settled for smirking, filing that delicious annoyance-absolutely-drowned-in-lust twinge to his boyfriend’s voice into his memory for a later date.
“What would be the fun in that?” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear. He could feel the rapid hot puffs of air against his cheek, the almost painful clutch of Harry’s hands on his forearms. After several glorious seconds, he finally gave the other man some relief, and Harry sighed, slumping his head onto his shoulder.
“Liked that?”
“Ohhhhh, yes,” Harry murmured in a dazed voice.
“Angry at your trousers for dulling the sensation?”
“Ohhhhhhh… yes. Trousers are bad.”
Draco hummed gently in his throat, smoothing his hands down Harry’s shoulders and sides. “Want something more?”
“Ohhhh, ye—wait, what?”
Draco had already found Harry’s belt buckle and was sliding the stiff leather free. Harry blinked at him confusedly, then dropped his eyes to Draco’s hands. For his part, Draco cocked his head and smiled, intent on the smooth very suave-if-he-did-say-so-himself motions of his fingers on Harry’s buttons. There were four, and they were hard to open, these trousers being new and all. But when it came to Harry, Draco had enough patience for five other people, though he’d be damned if he shared a second of their alone time with any of those five.
He managed the first two buttons, and then Harry’s hands suddenly fixed on his wrists.
“Draco, what are you going to do?”
Draco paused and looked at him carefully. Harry’s eyes were wide, dilated, his throat working as he swallowed. Draco ran one finger down Harry’s flushed cheek. “I’m not going to go all the way, Harry. I know you’re not ready for that yet.”
Harry gave him a shaky nod and a weak smile. “It’s not about you,” he said as Draco eased the last two buttons free. “I mean, I don’t want you to think—”
“Oh, I am well aware it’s not about me. How could it be? I’m perfect.” Draco grinned wickedly up at Harry. “But don’t you think for one second that I’m going to let you get away tonight without coming at least once.”
Harry bit his lip, a smile breaking over his face. “Blowjob?”
“Frottage,” Draco said matter-of-factly.
The odd fear came back into Harry’s eyes. “What’s that?”
Draco slid Harry’s trousers down, picking up each of his boyfriend’s feet carefully and tugging his shoes off along with the offending garment. Then he pushed his own trousers off, shaking a caught foot free of the cloth. “Hmm… Explaining it sort of takes away the fun. Why don’t we get started, and we’ll see how you like it?”
Harry nodded hesitantly, looking between them at their matching erections. He linked his hands around Draco’s neck and frowned down intently. Draco almost laughed.
“Would you relax? I’m making no attempt on your precious virgin arse.”
“Not technically, anyway,” Harry muttered. He looked up at Draco, a puzzled expression on his face. “Well… what do I do?”
“Whatever feels right,” Draco answered in a sing-song voice.
Harry pursed his lips. “That doesn’t help me at all, you kn—Ah!”
For Draco had just nudged Harry’s hips forward, pressing himself against him. He thrust experimentally and Harry’s body jerked. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his eyes rolled back into his head. Draco pushed his hips into his again, thrusting slightly upward, and Harry gave a low cry. His body began to frantically return Draco’s movements. The urgency surprised and delighted Draco, and he cupped his hand against the back of Harry’s neck, kissing his cheek. He whispered into his boyfriend’s ear.
“Harry.”
The body against his froze abruptly. When Draco pulled back to look at Harry, he saw that his cheeks had blossomed into two bright red patches. Harry dropped his eyes.
His voice sounded very small. “I did something wrong.”
Draco snorted. He grabbed Harry’s chin with one hand and kissed him hard. “Fuck, Harry, no you didn’t. I was just thinking what a minx you’re turning out to be.”
A shy smile lined with something mischievous graced Harry’s lips. “If I am, it’s all your fault.”
Draco couldn’t stop himself, he just couldn’t. He gripped Harry’s hip with his free hand and pulled him roughly against him. Harry gasped, clutching his shoulder, and began to move with him. But after the first thrust, Harry coupled it with a timid gyration.
Draco’s grin was absolutely brilliant now. “Gods, am I ever going to enjoy teaching you about sex, Harry.”
Whatever his boyfriend intended to say was absorbed in a shaky moan. Draco pressed him back to the door and bent to lick his throat. Harry’s voice came to his ear, low and full of heat. “Draco, what if I… if I wanted to, um.”
Harry’s skin was slick with sweat, and their hips and thighs slid against each other in a manner that was almost painful, almost ticklish. Needing to be resolved. But… Harry. As agonizing as it was, Draco slowed his own motions to look at his boyfriend, waiting for him to continue. But the other man seemed at a loss for words.
“What?” Draco prompted, struggling to keep his voice soft and calm. It wouldn’t do to have Harry sense how intoxicated he was feeling right now, as if they had never used those sobriety spells. This was new for Harry. Draco had to control himself.
“Um… if I…”
Draco smirked and shook his head. “Surprise me, Harry.”
His boyfriend turned redder than their current exertion accounted for and bit his lip. Draco waited for a moment, and then resigned himself to the fact that whatever it was, Harry had lost his nerve. And that wasn’t a problem, he reasoned, guiding Harry’s hips in a rolling, stroking rhythm against his. They had all the time in the world for Harry to figure this out. Draco was in no rush, not when it came right down to the nitty-gritty.
Which was why when Harry leaned against the door and began to push hard on his shoulders, Draco grew a little afraid he’d done something to hurt him. Maybe Harry just wanted that blowjob after all. It disappointed Draco; no matter how he looked at it, at some point he wanted to have sex with Harry. Go all the way. Definitely. Didn’t matter who penetrated whom. And the fact that Draco could care less about hopping right into the sack with this man immediately was something unique enough to warrant its own analysis. But they were supposed to be moving in a forward motion, and they’d already given each other blowjobs. Harry was getting quite good at it, actually.
But Draco had hoped for something a little closer to the actual act of penetrative sex this time. And Harry was pushing on his shoulders and leaning away instead.
Draco had just sighed and resigned himself to taking that other step tomorrow, when Harry inhaled sharply and brought one leg up around Draco’s waist, followed quickly by the other. Draco suddenly had his arms full of his boyfriend and he nearly fell. Luckily he nearly fell forward, pressing Harry’s upper back into the door. But Harry’s legs dropped away from his waist anyway.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to—”
Draco stilled him with a look. “Harry, that was hot.”
“It… it was?”
“Fuck, yes. Let’s try this again.”
This time he helped lift Harry enough for the other man to hook his ankles around him. Harry smiled sheepishly. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, but you said do what feels right, and I thought… well.”
Draco ran his hands over the damp skin under Harry’s shirt. “Well nothing. This works. But not for long; my legs aren’t that strong and I had quite a bit of alcohol tonight. Sobriety spells are only temporary, you know.”
“What’s this called again?”
“Fr… frottage,” Draco managed, appalled at how breathy his voice was beginning to sound. Harry wriggled against him, rubbing their erections together and catching Draco’s mouth in a heady kiss.
“Well, I like it. How long does it usually last?”
Draco lipped his jaw, breathing Harry’s sweaty scent in through his nose. “I think once I went for three minutes. But this one’s going to be a hell of a lot faster.”
“Why?” Harry’s voice quavered slightly in his ear. “Because I’m… because I can’t last?”
“No,” Draco said, touching their foreheads. “Because you make me come a hell of a lot quicker than anyone else ever could.”
Harry’s eyes widened. His expression was so painfully amazed it stretched something taut in Draco’s chest. His erection twitched agonizingly against Harry’s. Just from fucking looking at him.
There was nothing else for it. Draco didn’t want to analyze himself anyway, and that sort of thought process was bound to take quite some time. He would deal with what sort of power Harry held over him later, after he’d taken care of a certain something. When Harry moaned and thrust against him lightly, Draco amended that. All right, two certain somethings.
No matter. One usually led to the other in short order. At least Draco wouldn’t have to address his recent baffling experience of having come untouched. Two days ago. It seemed longer. Giving blow jobs to Harry Potter was apparently something altogether new and exciting for Draco’s body. Draco had never managed to satisfy himself with merely touching someone else’s body… before hooking up with his current boyfriend.
But. That was two days ago. This was tonight. And if Draco didn’t find a way to bring Harry off first, he was going to have to resort to something entirely different. He didn’t think his legs would hold up to this brand of frottage post-orgasm.
Draco pushed Harry back against the wall a little more roughly than he’d planned. Harry’s fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“You all right?” Draco managed.
“How can you possibly ask me that?” Harry panted, using the wall to rub himself against Draco. “Of course I’m not alright.”
“I meant your head.”
“Oh.” The head in question dropped back against the wall and Harry shut his eyes, drawing in his breath in a long hiss. “Yeah. That head’s fine. But the other one feels a bit… full.”
Draco snorted, nearly dropping Harry in his sudden mirth. “That was beautiful, Potter.” He grabbed Harry’s hips and rocked himself hard against his boyfriend’s body. Pleasure was beginning to flood up from his groin in slow, sensual pulses. He peered at Harry’s face past the haze in his own eyes. “How close… are you?”
Harry was biting his lip so hard Draco wanted to stick his fingers in between and open his mouth. He didn’t want Harry bleeding. The other man’s head dipped, forehead coming to rest on Draco’s shoulder. Two words wrenched themselves from Harry’s throat. “Fucking close.”
Draco grinned. He steadied Harry’s body against the wall, widened his stance to support him, and moved one hand to his boyfriend’s length. Harry let out a small cry. Yes, he was fucking close.
Draco loved him like that.
He began to whisper in Harry’s ear, fast sharp words, all running together. It was something he’d discovered about Harry. Hearing what was happening to Draco at the moment it was happening made the other man absolutely helpless in the throes of his orgasm. It was the most amazing thing to watch, and Draco hadn’t been able to do it recently, seeing as the way he tended to bring Harry off included having a mouth full of a certain something. But now…
“You make me come so hard, Harry, your body gets so hot, I can barely breathe just looking at you—”
“Canseeus.”
Draco halted for an instant, still gripping Harry in one hand. “What?”
Harry lifted his head and met Draco’s gaze. His eyes were round, mouth working silently. He swallowed and tried again. “They can see us. The neighbors!”
Whether it was the words or the absolutely appalled look in Harry’s eyes, Draco’s body shuddered. He was going to come, but by Salazar, he was taking Harry with him. He stroked his boyfriend hard and grinned. “Good.”
Harry shot him a look that was as full of embarrassment as it was of lust, but Draco didn’t give him time to think. He quickened his movements, latching onto Harry’s throat with his mouth. Harry groaned and tightened his legs around Draco’s body. His hips began to quiver against Draco’s. Any second now. Draco took a deep breath and prayed his voice would be there when he opened his mouth.
“They can see this, Harry, they can watch us now, but they won’t get to see the night when I make you come from the inside, that’s only for you and me—”
Harry arched incredibly hard and came with a cry, squeezing Draco so tightly that whatever breath he had left deserted him. Draco rolled his hips upward as vigorously as he could and his orgasm flowed over him. He was vaguely aware of Harry’s mouth on his face, a series of wet, shaky kisses. It was all he could do to continue to stand upright. Slowly, Harry’s legs loosened and dropped away from his waist. Harry collapsed back against the wall and Draco leaned into him, trying to catch his breath.
“I’ll say this for you, Harry,” he murmured. He felt like he was in a fog. “You come, and it’s bloody contagious.”
“Draco,” Harry said in a hushed voice. “They’re watching.”
For a moment Draco had no idea what he was talking about. But when he saw the embarrassment on his boyfriend’s face, it clicked and he turned his head.
And looked right through Harry’s big picture window, across the street, and through the similar window there to see four people staring buggy-eyed back at him. Three girls and a guy. They were plastered against the glass. One of the girls was absolutely slack-jawed.
Draco froze. He heard Harry swallow. It had all seemed so marvelous, making Harry come in front of an audience, who he really hadn’t thought would have an adequate view of their activities anyway. But it was plain that if they hadn’t seen everything, they’d seen quite a bit. And Harry looked mortified. All of a sudden Draco hated himself. What had he been thinking? He looked down at the floor, trying to come up with something that could fix it all, something to make Harry not hate him for this.
His gaze flicked up and caught Harry’s for a long instant.
And then Harry raised his hand and… waved. At the people across the street. Draco followed the exuberant gesture, and when he looked back, the other man was grinning at him sheepishly. A laugh burst from Draco and Harry snorted, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Here,” Draco managed, still chuckling, “let’s see what they do with this.”
He turned, looked right at the gawkers – who were now looking quite flabbergasted – and flicked his fingers, whispering a word. An instant later, the window across the street fogged up completely. Harry gave a shout of laughter. The party-goers in the other flat began trying to wipe the condensation away, frenzied hands flying. But Draco just waved his hand again and Harry’s drapes flopped down over the bay window, concealing them from view.
Harry snickered and cupped Draco’s chin, turning his face back. “You could get in trouble for that.”
Draco smirked. “Would have happened eventually anyway, with all the gasping they were doing.”
Harry grinned and shook his head. Draco settled against him, wrapping his arms around the sweaty body beneath his. Harry’s shirt hadn’t made it all the way off. It was rolled up under his arms. The tie was even more disheveled than before. Draco thought it looked charming.
“So that’s frottage,” Harry said thoughtfully.
Draco nodded, nuzzling into his boyfriend’s throat. “More or less. Did you like it?”
Harry snorted. “If you have to ask, then you’re not as intelligent as I first thought.”
Draco glared at him, slapping his ass lightly with one hand. “Just wanted to be sure. It’s a big step. And yes. I know you still aren’t ready for anything else.”
Harry looked at him for a moment. A slow smile slid over his face. “Maybe not. But there’s no doubt in my mind that when I am ready, you’re the one I want inside me when I lose my virginity.”
Draco had no idea he could get aroused again so fast.
Harry started to say something, but Draco cut him off. He himself wasn’t hard again yet, certainly, but that was just a minor detail. Easily remedied. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry’s ear lobe. The other man gasped.
“Now, Harry,” Draco whispered silkily. “About that blowjob…”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-09 08:19 pm (UTC)From:*swoons*
Thankee. ^_^