|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 21:48:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: cruisedirector, hp fic admittance, hp fic draco/harry|
HP fic: Admittance, ch. 1: Bedtime Story [Harry/Draco, adult]
Chapter 1, "Bedtime Story"
Authors: celandineb and cruisedirector
Pairing: Harry/Draco, adult
Warnings: foodplay, dirty talk, misuse of potions
Summary: Draco promises Harry an entertaining tale, though Harry doesn't expect it to involve Snape.
"Want something to drink, Draco?" Harry called out from the kitchen, lifting the cooling charm from a bottle of lager. It wasn't an entirely casual question, though Harry wouldn't have said he was trying to get Draco drunk, exactly.
"Whatever you're having," Draco called back. He was sprawled across their bed, dictating a letter to his parents with a self-correcting quill that would remove all his profanities before they reached his mother. This was not one of Draco's favorite tasks, and Harry knew a bit of coaxing would be needed before Draco was relaxed enough for an enjoyable evening.
When it came to sex, usually Draco was the inventive one -- the blindfold had been his idea, and the ice. The cherry-flavored edible underwear might have been a mistake, since it tasted like the vile cough syrup Aunt Petunia had given Harry as a child. But most of Draco's ideas of how to spice things up in bed were splendid, and Harry was feeling impatient for Draco to finish this chore.
"Just make sure it's cold -- no, scratch that," Draco added hastily to the quill, which had recorded the conversation. Obediently the quill retraced the words, the ink flowing upward again, as Draco continued, "I don't know where you've picked up the bizarre idea that I'm no longer a proper
bloody little Slytherin. No, I was not wearing a scarlet-and-gold necktie to work. I don't even own a scarlet necktie. But since you've asked, I will have Professor Snape over for dinner one of these days. Though I must say he hasn't exactly shown a great deal of desire for my company. I haven't had an owl from him in ages."
Harry knew that any estrangement between Draco and his former Head of House was probably his own fault -- Snape had made it plain more than once that he was no more keen to spend time with Harry now than he had been when Harry was a student -- but Draco grinned at him anyway as Harry came over with two glasses. "You also needn't bother to keep reminding me that there are plenty of nice pureblood girls I could marry," Draco dictated to the quill. "I'm fully aware of what you want me to do, and it's not on the agenda. As you know. I hope you're not planning to spend the whole of the
damned holiday nagging me, because Harry and I will leave if that's the case. I respect your wishes, but you have to respect mine too. Your son, Draco."
"That's all for the weekly letter?" Harry asked, watching the quill sign with a flourish and replace itself in the inkwell.
"If I don't write, they might visit," Draco said darkly. "And Father will give us both the lecture about our duty to the wizarding community, and Mother will insist that we need a house-elf to tidy up. Honestly. It's not like we're dirty." He caught Harry's eye and let one lid droop in a slow wink. "Not in any way that a house-elf could help, that is."
Harry laughed and handed Draco a glass. "Cheers." He took a large swallow from his own and said, "Are they threatening to visit again? Haven't you explained that we only have the one bedroom?"
"You don't think they'd want to stay overnight, do you?" asked Draco in horror. "I thought they'd Apparate back to their lovely, pristine home!" He took a swallow of his lager. "If they stayed here, they'd make me sleep on the sofa and probably suggest that since you inherited Sirius' house which should have gone to Mother since he was disowned, you should sleep there."
"If I went to Grimmauld Place, you wouldn't sleep on the sofa, you'd go with me," Harry pointed out. "And since your parents resolutely ignore the fact that we're together, somehow I can't see them making that suggestion." He glanced around the bedroom. "But even a day visit from them would mean having to do some redecorating, wouldn't it? I mean, we love those nineteenth-century engravings, but I think Narcissa might have a stroke if she looked at them very closely."
"They're sure to want to inspect the place sooner or later." With a sigh Draco pushed the letter and quill to the side. "Isn't there a spell to make the whole place look completely different? What was that thing you told me Slughorn had used the first time you ever met him? Couldn't we hide our secret vices under fresh wallpaper?" Grinning again, he took another gulp.
Harry grinned back. "I don't remember what the spell was, but maybe we should find out. Probably a Transfiguration variant, although I wouldn't want to ask McGonagall -- can you imagine, probably all the walls would be covered in tartan paper."
"In Gryffindor colors. Horrible," Draco gave an exaggerated shudder and finished his drink.
"Get you another?" Harry offered.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"Would I do that?"
For a moment Draco looked suspicious, but then he frowned slightly in disappointment. "Probably not. Too well behaved. Mother and Father would approve of you completely if you weren't a half-blood," he snickered.
"Except for the little matter that what's between my legs and matches yours," shot back Harry as he went off to fetch another round.
"There's always that," Draco acknowledged. "But Mother wouldn't be satisfied if she couldn't complain about something. And you know Father. He'll never criticize you to your face, now that you've defeated the Dark Lord."
Harry wondered whether to be relieved he didn't have parents like Draco's or whether to be envious that Draco had parents who loved him... even such parents as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. On the whole, he thought he would leave Draco's parents to Draco. At least this way he didn't have to write them letters once a week.
"Let's not talk about them any more tonight," he said, handing back the glass. "They're not threatening to visit imminently, are they? So no worries for the moment, we just have to go to Wiltshire for the Beltane celebration. I can stand that. Even if they won't have such a lowbrow Muggle sort of beverage as this." He lifted his beer and drank.
"This is really quite palatable." Draco sniffed at it. "I never thought I'd like any of this Muggle stuff, but the food's not bad, and some of those things you need in your kitchen..." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "There's something the purebloods could learn about from Mudbloods. Those rubbery things you use to open jars when you can't use a spell? I can think of lots better uses for them. And those juicer things, and those things you use to flip eggs?" He winked, taking another drink. "Maybe it's not as interesting for you. Not like being let loose in a toy shop."
"After all those years having to cook for the Dursleys, kitchen tools are not my first idea as a source of excitement. Much more fun to see what uses you can think of for those gadgets, I have to say." Harry refrained from mentioning Arthur Weasley's similar fascinations, knowing that Draco was likely to be offended by any such comparison. He swallowed the last of his lager and added, "I wondered if you wanted to play tonight?"
Draco cocked his head. "So that's why you wanted me to drink with you -- get me all relaxed and willing." A smirk brightened his eyes as he sent the letter flying to the desk and hopped off the bed. "I'm done with this, so come on. Let's see what's in the kitchen that might be inspiring."
Rummaging in the refrigerator, Draco made a pleased sound. "Here we go." He filled a bowl with the whipped cream and pulled a spatula from a drawer with a flourish. "Dessert?"
Harry grinned. "Only if you were planning to put a cherry on top," he replied, swiping one finger through the cream and licking it off.
"My cherry's long gone." With a laugh Draco scooped up a large dollop on the spatula, wiped it on Harry's cheek, and leaned over to slurp it away. "Don't you like licking up messes for their own sake?'
Harry unbuttoned Draco's shirt with one hand and took the spatula from him with the other, swirling white peaks onto Draco's chest. "This kind of mess, absolutely." He looked up, his lips smeared with sweet whipped cream, tongue darting out to lap them clean.
Rolling his eyes slightly, Draco pulled out his wand with his newly-freed hand and said, "You're doing things the difficult way, as usual. Divestimento!" As Harry's clothing fell to the floor, he grinned. "Now. Give me that Muggle utensil."
"And just what were you planning to do with it?" Laughter edged the pretended suspicion in Harry's voice as he handed the spatula back to Draco. "Can I have three guesses?"
"One," counted Draco as he painted a stripe of whipped cream along Harry's thickening cock. "Two..." Wiry curls showed through the white when Draco stroked down, catching the rubbery tip in the narrow space between Harry's thigh and balls. "Three!" Harry groaned and spread his legs wider, leaning back and bracing his hands on the edge of the cooker behind him. Draco knelt and looked up at Harry as he dragged the spatula further along, teasingly.
"Are you going to lick that off, or what?" demanded Harry somewhat breathlessly.
"All in good time." There was an arch grin on Draco's face as he nudged whipped cream behind Harry's balls. Finally he set down spatula and bowl, put his hands on Harry's thighs and took an experimental lick. "Not bad," he conceded, trying another.
"Not bad?" Harry wriggled; the combination of the cream dripping slowly down his thighs and Draco's too-light licks was tickling him unbearably. "I'll have you know that this cream is not a day out of the cow. The dairy farmers of Guernsey would be highly affronted."
Wrinkling his nose slightly, Draco muttered, "Don't remind me it's from a cow; I'd rather suck you," and took the head of Harry's cock into his mouth, sucking it forcefully. Groaning, Harry slid his fingers into Draco's hair, stroking and hoping to hold him there, but after another minute Draco slid his mouth down the shaft and licked Harry's balls. "Stuff gets all oozy when it gets warm, too."
"It does," Harry agreed, his breath hitching as Draco used his teeth to scrape skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to send shivers along Harry's spine. "More?" Draco looked up, grinning, and handed him the bowl. He sat back on his haunches to watch as Harry smoothed the whipped cream over his own cock, all but the head. "Now there's a cherry on top."
Draco sucked that first, then licked off the shaft, catching some melting cream on his finger when it started to run down Harry's thigh and using the wet digit to tease behind Harry's balls. "You do realize that I'm working up an appetite," he snickered. "All this sugar's making me want to fuck you."
"The bedroom might be more comfortable then. Last time we did it in here it took your knees two days to recover." Harry's cheeks turned slightly pink, watching Draco run his tongue along the underside of Harry's cock.
"Hmm." Draco gave a last slurp and stood up. "I thought it was you who had the knee trouble."
"That was the time before. Bedroom?"
"All right." Draco groped Harry's arse. "I suppose you want a bedtime story, too?"
"Do you know any good ones?" Harry groped right back and began steering them down the hall.
"Hmm." There was a familiar wickedness in Draco's snicker. "I could tell you about a most unfortunate Potions accident. A true tale, even."
"Ooh, sounds good." Harry crawled onto the bed, Draco right behind him. "So tell me."
Draco knelt with one knee on either side of Harry's hips, effectively pinning him to the bed. "Now, what happened was not entirely my fault," he began.
"Not entirely your fault?" Harry raised his eyebrows and rested his arms on Draco's thighs.
"Not at all my fault, really. I didn't realize ginseng and saw palmetto together would act as an erectile enhancement potion. I only knew that in combination with ginkgo and stevia, they were supposed to give you a killer orgasm. They should explain these things in Potions textbooks."
"If they had, I'd have been a much better Potions student. Even Neville might have managed to survive it," interjected Harry fervently, running his fingers over Draco's smooth stomach.
"Don't put Longbottom into my head, please." Draco tweaked one of Harry's nipples. "As I was saying, I was attempting to work out a potion that was definitely not in any Ministry-approved textbook. Old Sluggy had given me permission to use the classroom one weekend; I told him I wanted to practice more on whichever potion it was we'd been learning that week. Wouldn't have done to tell him the truth."
This must have been sixth year, then. Harry hadn't known Draco took time away from his assignment for Voldemort to have any fun. Even now, they mostly avoided talking about that time. "Did you put a little too much of something in?" asked Harry.
"A lot too much. Let's not even discuss the details. Suffice it to say that after six hours, an erection is not only no longer desirable, it is acutely painful. I wasn't about to go to Slughorn for help -- you know he has a grudge against my entire family. Probably my father refused to join the Slug Club or get Sluggy a Ministry position. So I did the next best thing."
"You went to Snape," guessed Harry, making a face.
"I thought if anyone would know what to do, he would. And even though he wasn't teaching Potions that year, his rooms were still the closest, and believe me, I didn't want to walk any further than I had to. So I knocked on his door and explained the situation. He threatened to take twenty points from Slytherin for unauthorized brewing, but I don't think he actually did..." Draco's voice trailed off. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. He had me go through exactly what I had done to make the potion, of course, and laughed when I told him how much stevia I'd used and how long I'd stirred."
"Snape laughed?" Harry was a bit sorry he hadn't been there.
"He laughed. And then he told me that instead of getting a detention, I was going to make the antidote myself. Now, I was so hard I could barely stand up. I kept shifting my weight while he went on and on about what I had to do -- only heard half of it, I was so distracted -- and he was definitely smirking."
"So what did you do?" Harry brushed over Draco's cock, which was surprisingly limp. The memory of a six-hour erection must have been terrible.
"Well, there was no way that I was going to be able to make the antidote without some relief, because as Snape explained it, there was an hour-long steeping period and if I rushed that, it would have the opposite effect of the one intended. I told him I didn't think I could do it, even though I was sure he would laugh at me again."
"Did he?" Though he would not have admitted it aloud, Harry took a secret delight in the idea of Snape scoffing at Draco the way he had so often ridiculed Harry before a classroom full of students. He had made a certain sort of peace with the idea, after the war, that Snape had been trying to make him tougher -- better mentally prepared to face Voldemort -- but that did not make his recollections of being made to feel ashamed any easier.
"He rolled his eyes at me and had me follow him to his bathroom, shoved me at the toilet, and told me to undo my trousers. Then he went and got some salve and told me to rub it on my prick." To Harry's surprise, Draco was blushing. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Draco embarrassed over anything. "The moment I started rubbing it in I knew I was going to come. I mean, hard -- one for the record books. I was moaning as if I'd never wanked before."
"And Snape laughed at you again," guessed Harry.
"No," said Draco. "He. Ah. He watched. Not that he said anything, but the door was partway open and I could see him looking in out of the corner of my eye. After, he made me Scourgify the entire loo, and then we went back to the Potions room so he could talk me through brewing the antidote. I drank it, and that was that. That's the story of my failed Priapic Potion."
"That's all that happened? Snape just looked at your cock? He didn't do anything else?" Harry was disappointed, though the thought should have been repellent.
Draco rolled his eyes. "I know you're never going to join the Severus Snape Admiration Society, but he'd never have touched a student, especially not one who was still underage. And he did hide me after all that mess at Hogwarts."
"Did he watch you again then?" Harry's voice sounded far too enthusiastic, but Draco was too lost in thought to notice.
"We were in pretty close quarters. Hard to avoid. I saw him, too: Snape with morning wood. When he caught me looking he glared and said, in the voice he gets when he's about to take fifty points, 'I had thought that Narcissa Malfoy's son would have had the rudiments of polite behavior drilled into him by now.' But I couldn't help it; I hadn't expected his prick to look like that. If he'd wanted to, he could have found a job posing for those wicked witch magazines instead of teaching at Hogwarts."
"You're joking," said Harry. He was impressed at how well Draco mimicked Snape's voice... and ignored the fact that it seemed to be making him harder. "Only if he had a bag over his head, surely."
"No, honestly. It's the little head that counts in those mags, you know. Even with him sneering at me, I was turned on."
"You're mental." Harry laughed nervously. He didn't know which was more disturbing: that Draco had been excited watching Snape, or that he was excited listening to Draco talk about it. He wanted to grab his own cock, but then Draco might guess what he was thinking, and who knew what kind of teasing that might lead to?
"Jealous, are we?"
"No!" protested Harry. "Or... did you just watch him?"
Draco smirked. "That time." He rocked his hips against Harry's. "Eventually I talked him into letting me give him a blow job... Merlin only knows the last time he'd had one before that." Harry looked suspiciously at Draco -- it seemed improbable that Snape would have permitted it, and he wondered whether Draco was inventing just to excite him -- but Draco caught the look and added, "Do you think I would make up having any kind of sex with Snape? He was gracious about returning the favor, too. He may be greasy and foul-tempered, but he must have got experience somewhere, because I could hardly stand up when he was finished."
By now Harry was so hard that he was afraid he'd come untouched. "You're telling me that Snape is the one you learned your technique from?"
"One of them." Draco slithered down between Harry's legs, grinning. "Want a demonstration?"
Harry hesitated, torn. He was inclined to agree, but on the other hand he did love bottoming for Draco. "I'd rather you fucked me."
Draco grabbed the flask of lube from the bedside table, unstoppering it. "You're lucky that Snape taught me how to brew a proper sex potion afterward."
"Snape taught you!" Harry had assumed that Draco picked up that particular knowledge from older friends or sneaked in ingredients from Knockturn Alley. "You mean all this time I've been getting buggered with his stuff!"
"And don't you love it?" purred Draco. "Turned out that my instincts hadn't been as far off as I'd thought. This particular potion isn't supposed to be drunk; it makes a great lube, instead. Although it does taste quite good, as long as you don't take much of it." He poured out a dollop on his palm and licked it, eyes glinting at Harry. "Turn around."
Harry whimpered slightly, blushing, but he obeyed. It felt weird to him to be on the receiving end of something that felt so good when it had originally come from Snape. Maybe it was the compensation he deserved for everything he'd had to put up with in Potions class and Occlumency lessons, but it was still a little disturbing. And Draco had said Snape was huge! "You're trying to make it so I can't hold out," he moaned as he felt Draco's fingers against him.
"Just encouraging you to have fun," countered Draco, twisting his hand. Harry's head nearly knocked against the headboard as he reacted to the sensation.
"Merlin -- Draco -- if you don't fuck me soon I'll come by myself."
He yelped as Draco pinched his arse. "No fear," Draco panted, and Harry felt himself being opened as Draco slid in.
"Tight, Potter," Draco said in an approving voice, so much like a teacher praising a student that it made Harry whimper. "What sort of sex magic did you study? Quidditch exercise these muscles well?" With one hand he squeezed Harry's bum as he moved, angling Harry until he could strike his prostate.
The entire room went white as Harry shrieked. "Oh, fuck," he chanted when he had breath to do it again. "Fuck -- fuck -- fuck!"
"You like it when I call you Potter," said Draco delightedly. "You're thinking about Snape!" He thrust fast and shallow now, teasing.
"Shut up, Malfoy," groaned Harry urgently. "Maybe it just reminds me of you..." He remembered how much he had hated Draco and thought it could never be otherwise, and how Draco had watched him with that smirk that Harry hadn't understood. Snape had watched him with the same look, as if he couldn't decide whether he was hoping that Harry would fail at whatever he did or wishing that for once his expectations would be exceeded. Fuck, he didn't want to be thinking about Snape! It had been bad enough when Draco was talking about Snape watching him, and Harry had gotten hard at the thought. That was about Draco, really, wasn't it? Not Snape. Definitely not Snape.
"I don't think I believe you, Potter," Draco hissed. He pinched Harry's nipple.
"I'm not thinking of Snape, I'm not," Harry chanted. He cast about for some other memory -- any other memory -- but it was laughable to think he could ever have had a thing for Lockhart like all the girls did, and Remus had always called him Harry, and if Slughorn had ever had sex then Harry fervently did not want to know about it. No, any memories of reacting to his name being hissed at him like that were, oh Merlin, of Snape.
Draco was laughing. "How ironic." Then his voice changed, grew silky. "Wouldn't you like to serve a detention, for old time's sake? Hm?"
Harry shuddered. He was so close; it wasn't fair that Draco was saying these things to him, he would have found anything Draco said at that moment arousing. Particularly kinky things. "Just shut up, please shut up," he begged.
"Rudeness. Ten points from Gryffindor," Draco said, imitating Snape's voice again, and Harry came without Draco having even touched his cock, white spunk spattering onto the duvet, his arse clenching.
"Oh," moaned Draco, who clearly had not been expecting that so quickly. "Fuck. You're..." And then Draco was coming too, digging his fingers into Harry's hips and bucking him back against the pillows.
"Sorry," said Harry when his pulse and breath had slowed enough to be able to speak. "I didn't mean..."
"I didn't realize you'd come like that," said Draco in the same moment. "The depths of your perversion need serious consideration, I'd say." He grinned wickedly at Harry. "There's all kinds of possibilities here."
Harry knew that his face was scarlet. "Speaking of consideration, do you want to cast Scourgify, or sleep in the wet spot?"
"I'll cast it, but then I'm going back to the kitchen. I believe we have a sweet to finish." Draco licked his lips. "Maybe we should invite Snape over for dessert some time?"
ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7 / ch. 8 / ch. 9 / ch. 10 / ch. 11 / ch. 12 / ch. 13 / ch. 14 / ch. 15 / ch. 16 / ch. 17