Title: Giving Ground
Author: elfflame
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: mild NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: agnophilia—struggling for dominance between partners
Other Warnings: None immediately come to mind…
Word Count: 1935
Summary/Description: Harry and Draco have a thing.
Author's Notes: For kabal42, a little late for your birthday, but I hope you enjoy it. I know it's not Steve and Tony, but I couldn't resist. Thank you to wolfish_cat as always for the help.



Sex always started this way for them. A battle for power and dominance. But then, it had always been like this between them even before they'd finally admitted why they could never get on. Their feelings had never truly been hatred, though they had good enough reason to hate one another.

Draco knew he should hate Harry. For being the saviour. For being his family's saviour; his saviour.

Harry knew he should hate Draco for choosing the wrong side. For fighting against him. For being a coward.

None of the people they cared about knew about this. This was something just for the dark of night. For midnight trysts after everyone else was in bed—or thought they were in their own homes, in bed, alone.

Most thought that Draco and Pansy were seeing each other. Only he knew he was just protecting his best friends from Blaise's mother. At least until Blaise could settle in a place of his own where the two would be safe together.

Everyone thought Harry and Ginny were happily together once more. Even Draco had at first. It was what had led to the fight that had changed everything.

They'd run into each other at the Ministry, and Draco had snarked something he couldn't quite remember at Harry about how it was too bad the Weaslette couldn't be there to worship him when he was working. Harry had tried to shrug him off, his disgruntled rejoinder lacking the sting Draco recalled from their days at school, and suddenly he realized just how much he missed it.

When Draco had followed him and continued to ask why he didn't have his own personal cheering squad here at the ministry, it had been the last straw. Harry'd shoved him to the wall, snarling at him. The attack added to the sight of Harry so angry had left Draco breathless for a moment, but he'd not allowed himself more than a second before lashing back, trying to reach for his wand, but unable as Harry'd pinned his wrists to the wall.

"Not a chance, Malfoy."

"Let me go! Or have you gone from being hero-in-residence to Ministry bully already?"

"Look who's talking about being a bully, Malfoy. If I ever need tips, I know just where to go. Not that that will ever happen."

Draco snorted. "As if I'd give you advice on anything, Potter." He tried to head-butt Harry, but he'd easily moved out of the way, then kicked him.

"Stop that. Unless you want worse. I could have you arrested for assault, you know…"

"Like you'd want anyone else fighting your battles, Potter. Then you wouldn't get any of the glory." The world rocked for a moment, and it took Draco a second to fully understand what had happened. It was only when he realized what the sting in his jaw meant that he saw Harry's upraised fist. "You hit me!"

"Should have done it ages ago," Harry said, eyes narrowed. He'd not even noticed Draco's hand was free until it had fisted in his hair, pulling his head back.

"Fucking hell, Malfoy…can't you even fight like a guy?" He grabbed Draco's shirt, trying to shake him, but Draco took the moment to knee him in the groin, and Harry dropped to the floor, groaning.

"Teach you to insult a Malfoy, Potter. Next time, remember…talk in fight is distracting." Draco moved to step over him, and felt Harry grip his ankle, but before he could do anything about it, his forward momentum had him toppling to the floor.

The two grappled for a few minutes, each managing to have the upper hand for only a moment before the other turned the tables on them, hands and knees hitting every inch they could manage, gouging at clothes and skin wherever they could. Then Harry finally managed to hold the upper hand for more than a moment, despite Draco's struggles. Draco found himself arching and shifting under him to try to push him off—and suddenly realized the effect their fight had had on him. He was hard as a rock. He stilled without thinking, and looked up, horrified that Harry had noticed.

Harry was panting, his eyes nearly black but for a fine circle of emerald. Either he hadn't noticed, or… Before Draco could finish the thought, Harry was grinding against him. Draco had only a fleeting thought that he wasn't the only one who'd been affected, then he threw his arms around him, pressing up into the feeling.

Harry was muttering something under his breath, even as his fingers tore at Draco's shirt, trying to get his hands underneath, his nails scratching over Draco's skin, making him writhe once more.

"Potter," he growled, "shut up." Then he was tugging him down, their teeth clashing together as they bit and sucked at each other's mouths, hands fisting in clothes or hair or any hand-hold they could find to get more friction.

It was over as fast as it started, and Draco was horrified that they hadn't even managed to get out of their trousers before both of them had come. Afterwards, Harry'd pulled away, horrified, then made an excuse and hurried off to wherever he was going, leaving Draco battered, bruised, and quite a bit worse for the wear.

It should have been a fluke.

Then they'd run into each other at the first year anniversary of the final battle, and it had happened again. This time in a closet, pressed so tight against each other they could barely move, their hands tearing at clothes, and each pushing at the other to turn to be fucked. Draco wasn't sure how he'd lost that fight. He'd been sure Harry wouldn't know what to do once he was faced with Draco's arse, but either he'd been reading up, or had some practice since, or both. Whatever it was, Draco wasn't complaining. Harry's was the best cock he'd ever had up his arse. Not that he was about to say so in as many words. Still, he had a feeling Harry knew how he felt. After all, despite his best efforts, he'd not managed to keep silent, despite the people just outside their hidey-hole.

Afterwards, both did their best to avoid each other better, but Draco knew it would happen again. He knew it because all he could see behind his eyelids at night was Harry's cock—a cock which he still hadn't seen, and which his mouth watered to be around, now that he'd felt it inside him. No, he wouldn't resist when the opportunity came. Even if it was bloody Harry Potter.

It did happen again, of course. And again, and again, and again. But still, each time they came together, they fought first. It became almost like a tradition. And part of that tradition was Draco nearly always losing.

He'd won twice.

Once, he'd managed to push Harry against the wall they'd been wrestling against long enough to push down his trousers and sink to his knees to take that cock he'd so been dreaming of into his mouth and swallowing him down. It was better than dreams by far.

The other time, he'd actually topped. It caught him so by surprise after Harry winning so many times before that he'd been almost gentle with him. At least, until Harry'd thrust back against him, and told him he wasn't a girl and to just get on with it. The feeling of Harry so tight around him had felt like nothing else before, even when he had topped others. Maybe because it had been so long. Or maybe it was because this was Harry fucking Potter he was fucking, thank you very much. Either way, after that time, somehow he couldn't think of him as Potter any longer. He'd just been Harry. Not that Harry knew that. To his face, he still called him Potter. But in his heart…he was Harry, now.

Draco certainly didn't intend to win tonight. He treasured every bruise he got from Harry, or he wouldn't have fought at all. But he knew that he needed him, like a drug. He just couldn't get enough of him.

Perhaps, if he'd not been so caught up in his own needs, he might have seen the signs that something was up, but it wasn't until after they'd fucked that he noticed. They were stretched out on the bed, panting; sweat and come soaking into Draco's skin. He felt even emptier than before, even though Harry was still here, and couldn't help but wonder how long it would be this time before he could give in to the need to find him again. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the moment when Harry stood and began to dress.

It never came. Instead, Harry turned towards him, then after a moment, curled an arm around his waist.

If Draco hadn't already been holding himself so rigid to keep from reaching out to him, he might have jumped at the touch. Instead, he opened his eyes and turned to look at him. "What are you doing?" Draco wasn't sure whether the shock that Harry had done so or the fear of what it might mean were stronger.

Harry was watching him as though he were a wildcat ready to pounce. "It's called cuddling, Malfoy. Perhaps you've heard of it?"

Draco shot him a half-hearted glare, but shifted closer, not about to deny himself, now that this was offered. "Won't your girlfriend be expecting you home?"

"My…who?" Harry sounded so honestly confused, that for the first time, Draco began to believe that there might be something more to this—whatever it was.

Still, he kept on. He had to be sure. "Weasley's little sister? The ginger who's had a crush on you since…before it was appropriate?"

A slow grin bloomed on Harry's face. "Jealous, Malfoy? What about yours?"

Draco scowled, then realized he could hardly fault Harry for thinking the same, given it was a purposeful impression he and Pansy had cultivated. "Beard. She and Blaise are trying to get him out from under his mother's thumb before they come out as dating. And it keeps our parents off our backs when it comes to finding us 'suitable' partners."

"Ah." Harry nodded. "Ginny and I never got back together after the war. She's actually dating Neville at the moment. Ron's not sure what to think."

Draco bit back a laugh at the thought of Longbottom dating anyone, though he could tell Harry knew he was amused. "I…see. Well…well, then…so…"

"So is this something more?" Harry looked like he wanted it to be. If that hopeful look on his face was any indication.

"Yeah. I mean…we get together…fight, fuck…is that it?" Draco hadn't realized how much he was coming to rely on this until he'd said the words. He watched Harry with bated breath as he waited for an answer.

"Well…I'd like to give us a try. So long as you would?"

Draco did his best to keep his voice calm as he responded. "Fine. But…I'm not a boyfriend sort."

"No? Then what do we call this?"

Draco smirked. "Well, I'll do my best to call you Harry, and you can call me sir." He grinned, then ducked a playful punch. "All right, all right… Draco will do."

Harry pulled him in for a kiss, and Draco sighed, returning it eagerly. Maybe this might just work out.

"So, Draco…you ever been tied up?" Harry was grinning again. Whatever they ended up calling this, it was certainly going to be a very interesting relationship.