Title: Curious Things
Author: lavillanueva
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Oxygen regulation (breathplay), Masturbation
Other Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,100
Summary/Description: "Curiosity begins as an act of tearing to pieces." -Samuel Alexander
Author's Notes: My first post to the community, and I'm looking forward to many more. :D



"What's wrong?"

Harry didn't know why he tried to keep anything from Draco. It never worked. Of course, the fact that he'd been staring at a whistling kettle for five minutes might have had something to do with it.

"Nothing," he said, turning off the gas. Cup. He needed a cup. "Um. Jonathan Jenkins died."

Draco scoffed. "Finally. What a bastard. Had Mum before the Wizengamot eight times." He reached into the cupboard on Harry's left side and pulled out two mugs, but hesitated before setting them down. "He wasn't murdered, was he? I've got an alibi, I swear."

Harry shook his head. "No, he--" He flushed at the memory. "It was an accident."

"Mmm." Draco set down the mugs and turned his attention to Harry. "What sort of accident?"

Harry opened the tea chest and picked a bag at random. "The sort where he was wanking with a tie around his neck and hung himself," he said in a rush.

"Ah." Draco plucked the bag from Harry's hand and set it on the counter as well. "That sort."

"Yeah." Harry stole a glance at Draco, then looked back at the empty mug in front of him. "Is that-- I mean, does everyone--"

Draco laughed and moved in closer, rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Not everyone," he said, and even though his breath was warm, Harry shivered. "Why? Are you curious?"

"It's dangerous," Harry said, which didn't really answer the question, but it was. He started to pull away, but Draco caught him around the waist, held him in place.

"It is," Draco agreed, mouth moving along Harry's neck, fingers slipping under his shirt, "but that's half the fun."

Harry closed his eyes and tipped back his head. He felt the slight pressure of Draco's lips against his throat and his stomach twisted. "What's the other half?"

"Come here." Draco stepped back, leading Harry by the hem of his shirt. "I'll show you."

*

"Are you going to use that?" Harry asked as Draco slid off his tie.

"Yes," Draco said, looping the fabric around Harry's neck. "That is what you pictured, isn't it?" He crossed the broad end over the thin, fastened it in a simple half-windsor. "My tie?" He adjusted the knot so it just brushed the base of Harry's throat; not restricting, but there. Definitely there. "Or was it my hands?" He tucked two fingers under the knot and Harry's breath stuttered.

"No," Harry whispered, though he couldn't deny he was thinking about it now: Draco's hands, his long fingers, the bruises he'd leave. "No, it was-- your tie. That's what..." he trailed off, hoping Draco would understand.

Draco smiled. "Thought so." He moved to stand behind Harry, sliding the knot along with him. "Sit back," he said with a gentle tug on the tie, and Harry stepped back until his thighs hit the foot of the bed. "Come on." Draco tugged a little harder and Harry fell back between his spread legs.

"Don't--" Harry started, then stopped. He wasn't sure what he'd meant to say; he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't want Draco to do, short of killing him. And Draco wasn't going to let him die. He would know how much to give, how much Harry could take.

"Don't worry," Draco shushed him, "I'll take care of it." He took one of Harry's hands in his and wrapped them both around the base of Harry's cock, already stupidly hard. "You take care of this."

Harry tried to nod, but only succeeded in pulling the tie tighter around his neck. Adrenaline shot through him and his dick jumped and god, he wasn't going to last a minute.

"Not so fast," Draco said, and there was laughter in his voice. "We haven't even got to the fun part yet."

"Can't," Harry said, leaning back to avoid the strain of the tie. "I can't, I'm going to--"

"Then don't touch," Draco said, and re-positioned their hands so they were spread over Draco's thigh.

"Okay." Harry moved his free hand to Draco's other leg, then sat up to give him room. "Okay. Ready. I'm ready."

"Good," Draco said, and just like that, the pressure on Harry's throat returned, harder than ever. Harry's body seized and his fingers flew to his neck, scrabbled desperately at the taut fabric. "Stop," he could hear Draco saying, but he couldn't, he couldn't breathe, he had to-- "Harry, stop."

He did, somehow, though his chest was burning and the room around him was spinning. He forced himself to take a breath, slow and shallow, and the burning eased to a low heat. His hands found Draco's legs again, clinging tight, and within moments the room had righted itself.

"There you are," Draco murmured in his ear. "There. See?"

Harry couldn't see, not yet. His throat ached and he could barely resist the urge to fight, to get away from the thing holding the air at bay. He was still hard, of course he was, but it wasn't-- it wasn't better.

"Wait for it," Draco said, his hand steady against Harry's side. "Just wait."

Harry did. It hurt, too much to ignore but not quite enough to stop, and besides, he was waiting for something. There was-- there was something-- there--

"Oh," he said, and didn't bother with anything else because it stung to speak. The burn under his ribs crept through his body, spread to his fingers, his toes, his cock. He didn't want to fight it anymore; he wanted to give in, close his eyes to the room dimming around him and let it take him over.

"Yes," Draco said from somewhere far away. "Now. You can touch now."

Harry obeyed without hesitation, grabbed his dick and started stroking as hard as his clumsy, half-numb fingers would let him. His vision sparkled at the edges and he was hot all over and he needed to come, or breathe, but he couldn't breathe and he didn't really want to, just wanted to sit back and watch the world explode.

He came wet and messy and screaming silently, nearly blinded by the rainbow flashing before his eyes. The tie went slack and he gasped for air that hurt worse than the lack of it. Draco pulled him back, still stiff and sensitive, and held him as the tingling ceased and the feeling returned to his extremities.

"Wow," Harry said, and even he could tell his voice was fucked-raw.

Draco laughed and kissed his temple. "Yeah," he agreed. "So. Does that answer your question?"

Harry nodded, and it hurt; everything hurt, but not in a bad way. Not yet.

"Good." Draco pushed him up a little, and Harry could feel the tie sliding loose from its knot. "Like to try it on me?"

*