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18th August 2014 04:29 - Fic: Love, Unspoken (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, NC-17)
Title: Love, Unspoken
Author: [info]writcraft
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Salirophilia: deriving sexual pleasure from dirtying or dishevelling one’s partner and coprolalia: dirty talk
Other Warnings: BDSM related kink with ‘in the bedroom’ D/s dynamic, feminization, cross-dressing, rent-boy play, mention of watersports, cock whipping, belting, rough sex, established relationship, elements of humiliation/degradation
Word Count: 2,600
Summary/Description: Draco always enjoys Harry’s fantasies and when Harry suggests some role play, Draco’s more than happy to oblige.
Author's Notes: So relieved to make it on my posting date this month! Thanks to A for giving this a quick read, all mistakes are my own.



Draco Malfoy loves Harry Potter.

He doesn’t care to admit that too often and rarely – if ever – makes any such declaration in public.

Draco never tells Harry that he loves the way his once jet-black hair peppers with flecks of grey and silver, or the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. He never tells Harry that sometimes, when it’s too warm to sleep, he throws off the covers and watches the rise and fall of Harry’s chest tracing his fingers over every toned curve and contour. Draco definitely doesn’t tell Harry that when he comes home from the Ministry the cut of his tunic and the way his trousers cling delectably to his backside makes Draco giddy.

But he always tells Harry how much he enjoys the filthy flashes of inspiration that tend to come to Harry somewhere between sleep and waking.

If Harry’s beautiful when he’s strong and brave, he’s even more beautiful when he isn’t strong at all.

The sight of Harry letting Draco spoil him, the wide-eyed trust and hazy gaze of submission is something which Draco can never fully comprehend. It sets his heart thudding in his chest and makes his breathing come in short, ragged gasps. He has to steady his voice so he sounds sure and steady, and pretending to be someone who couldn’t give a fuck about Harry is one of the hardest things in the world.

Draco supposes that degrading Harry should make him feel powerful, but it’s probably at those times he’s at his weakest of all. Shot through the heart with every cry and whimper, at the mercy of every twist of Harry’s body and every arch and flex of his muscles. Draco has to push himself to give Harry everything because he knows full well there’s a time when Harry needs to be taken right to the edge until he’s ready to fly.

Trust. That’s what gets Draco every time. The moment when Harry pushes his own belt into Draco’s hands and asks him to make it hurt. The night when Harry rolls over in bed and straddles Draco with that look in his eyes that means I want everything you can give me. That whisper in Draco’s ear that he wants it to be filthy and kinky and all kinds of fucked up.

The night when Harry burrows into Draco’s arms and they cuddle together sweetly in a tangle of warm limbs, until Harry mumbles, “I want you to treat me like a whore.”

“Harry, stop.” Draco’s voice turns gravelly and he laughs off the moment of madness and for a second Harry laughs too, rolling Draco onto his back.

“I’m serious, Malfoy. Or don’t you think you can afford me?” Harry trails off with a groan of approval and he presses down on Draco’s eager cock, his hole already stretched and slick with lube and come.

“Of course I can afford you, Potter.” Draco pulls Harry down and thrusts up, just to hear his name slip from Harry’s lips on the back of a gasp of desire.

“Of course you can,” Harry agrees. Then he smiles that brilliant, cocky grin and Draco’s done for.

Which is precisely how Draco finds himself leaning against the damp-stained wall of a sub-standard hotel, with Harry enthusiastically sucking his cock.

He pulls back and wipes the tip of his cock over Harry’s lips with a sneer of disapproval, not because Harry’s doing anything wrong but because he’s about three seconds away from coming and he’s damned if this isn’t going to last.

“Look at you. Dirty boy.” Draco smirks at Harry and zips up his trousers ignoring Harry’s whine of protest. “Stand up and let me see you properly.”

Harry stands on shaky feet and turns slowly for Draco to see.

He’s mesmerising. Filthy, sexy and utterly gorgeous. His dishevelled hair falls over his face and his lips are parted and plump as he watches Draco. He’s dressed just for the occasion, with ripped stockings and a tiny skirt which barely covers his arse. His chest is bare – streaked with red lines from the belting Draco gave him earlier.

“What do you have to say to me?” Draco approaches Harry and presses his thumb to Harry’s lips, smearing his lipstick over his chin. “Filthy little slut.”

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Sir.” Harry grins as he says it and chases Draco’s thumb, trying to capture it between his lips. He likes to tease when he wants Draco to play rough.

“I should think so.” Draco pushes Harry away and takes a seat, gesturing to the bed. He knows if he keeps touching Harry he’s going to have to fuck him into oblivion and it’s far too early for that. “Take off your skirt. Let me see your cunt.”

Harry flushes, and obliges. He tugs off his skirt and turns, parting his legs and prising open the cheeks of his backside. “Like this?”

“Just like that.” Draco adjusts himself in his trousers and bites back a curse of appreciation. The stockings show off Harry’s arse to perfection and the way he juts upwards to display himself is almost obscene. If Harry was actually a whore, Draco would give him every Galleon in the Malfoy vaults to do this every single night. “Finger yourself. Get yourself nice and wet for me.”

Harry puts on a good show but Draco sees him slip from his role momentarily as he lets out a rough, mumbled curse before another chirpy, “Yes, Sir.”

Draco bites his bottom lip and presses the heel of his palm against his cock as Harry reaches for a bottle of lube on the bed and slicks his fingers. Draco shifts the chair closer as Harry shifts back into position, sliding a finger slowly into his hole.

“And another.” Draco tries to sound bored and it’s a valiant, if unsuccessful effort. Harry adds another finger and shifts his legs further apart, pressing his fingers into himself with a groan of frustration at not finding the right angle. Draco watches Harry for a moment longer and then stands, batting his fingers away from his backside. He can tell by the way Harry’s arse cheeks clench and his hole twitches that he thinks Draco’s going to fuck him. Draco smirks and runs his hand over Harry’s backside. “Not yet.”

Harry whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Draco’s cock.

“Tease,” Harry mutters, his voice low and Draco laughs. They break roles for a moment as Harry turns and he launches himself at Draco, kissing him soundly on the lips. Sometimes Harry needs to do that and most of the time Draco doesn’t mind. Not least because it gives him reason to give Harry a thorough spanking from time to time.

“Lie down. On your back, hands above your head.” Draco brushes his thumb over Harry’s lips. “No more kissing on the lips. You’re my whore, remember?”

“I’m sorry.” Harry isn’t sorry at all, but because Draco isn’t really cross it doesn’t matter in the slightest.

Nevertheless, Draco feels the time is right to up the stakes and he flicks his wand to Accio a charcoal collar from his robes.

Harry’s breathing hitches and his eyes flicker with need as he eyes the collar. This time neither of them laughs, because they both know this isn’t a game.

Fuck.” Harry shifts up a little, his limbs pliant and his cock leaking at the tip. He looks up at Draco as he slides the collar around Harry’s neck. Just as it always does, Harry’s wide-eyed open gaze makes Draco’s hands tremble momentarily.

Draco brushes his thumb over Harry’s cheek and smiles. “Good boy. What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

The rush of pride never dissipates and Draco’s heartbeat skitters and thuds whenever Harry looks at him like that. They agreed between them once that the collar wouldn’t come out all the time. Sometimes Harry likes to take charge and fuck Draco senseless over once of their posh sofas in the living room, and sometimes they just want to suck one another off in the shower or have a lazy breakfast in bed, sticky with marmalade-flavoured kisses.

But then there are these times, when Harry needs more and Draco wants to give it. Draco got the collar for those moments.

With a sigh of contentment, Draco slides his hands over Harry’s arms once the collar is fixed in place. “Hands above your head, Harry.”

Yes.” Harry arches his back and stretches out, his gaze already unfocused. Draco slips some cuffs from his robes and places them around Harry’s wrists clicking them into place. Harry tugs his arms and his lips part with pleasure.

Draco brushes his fingers down Harry’s chest and watches him squirm and twist at every stroke of his fingertips. He slides his thumb slowly over the tip of Harry’s cock, and presses against the slit until Harry cries out and bucks up towards Draco’s hand. He reaches lower and pushes two fingers into Harry, fucking him slowly with them while Harry rocks back onto them and writhes in place.

“You make a fucking lovely whore.” Draco can’t help but say it out loud because the sight of Harry bound and lost in pleasure is more than he can take. Harry’s lips curve upwards into a smile, and Draco leans closer to brush his lips against the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“No kissing on the lips, remember?” Harry arches under Draco and his words falter as Draco crooks his fingers deep inside Harry.

“I’m the one making the rules, now.” Draco brushes his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth again and lets Harry feel his smile.

He slides back and picks up his belt again, watching Harry shiver. He folds it in half and pushes Harry’s legs apart, before bringing the leather down over his cock and balls. The leather makes a sharp smacking sound and Harry twists with every fall of the belt – initially bucking up to meet the leather and then turning away from it with a sharp cry. When Draco is satisfied, he drops the belt. He moves between Harry’s legs and takes him into his mouth, the tender skin still hot from the whipping.

Harry cries out sharply and he’s coming within moments, warm and salty in Draco’s mouth. Draco slides up and slips off Harry’s stockings. With a groan, the last of Draco’s resolve shatters and he pushes Harry’s legs back against his chest, pressing into him with one swift movement.

They both moan and Harry’s legs slip over Draco’s shoulders, pulling him in deeper.

“So good.” Harry rocks back against Draco and meets his thrusts eagerly, as Draco pushes into Harry like he’ll never be able to go deep enough or fuck Harry hard enough. Draco wonders if there’ll ever be a time when he’ll be able to get enough of Harry, and he seriously doubts it. He grazes his teeth over Harry’s neck just above the collar and moves his head lower, biting down on Harry’s shoulder. He digs his fingers into Harry’s hips and runs his blunt nails along Harry’s chest.

“I want you to feel me tomorrow.” Draco pushes into Harry faster, his mind filling with images of Harry showering, his body pleasantly sore as the water slides over the marks on his skin.

Draco.” Harry’s voice catches and the way he says Draco’s name tips him over the edge. He comes with a shout, clutching Harry and wondering not for the first time which one of them is supposed to be in charge when they do this. He catches his breath and slips out of Harry, breathing heavily and taking in Harry’s flushed cheeks and the dark red marks on his neck and torso.

He has to take a moment and he stands, dropping his forehead against the wall and tugging on his clothes. He turns back to look at Harry who gives him a questioning look. With a groan, Draco moves back to the bed and pulls Harry against his chest kissing him fiercely.

“You’re supposed to be my whore. I was going to throw money on you. Piss on you. Belt you again.”

“But you don’t want to?” Harry grins and pulls back from Draco, his eyes shining with mirth. “You were going to piss on me?”

“Well I don’t know, do I, Potter?” Draco glares at Harry and flicks his wand to release the handcuffs. “You’re the kinky fuck. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Harry contemplates that momentarily, stretching out his hands. “I might. But I’d have thought we might enjoy it more in the shower than in bed.”

The idea makes Draco’s cock twitch with appreciation and he holds onto Harry tightly and Apparates back to their comfortable bed. “I could have pissed on the carpet and I doubt it would have made any difference. That hotel was vile. Next time you want to try something like that, choose somewhere a bit more upmarket. Honestly, Potter.”

Harry laughs, and brushes his lips to Draco’s chest. “We left our stuff.”

“I’ll get it tomorrow.” Draco shrugs. He nuzzles Harry’s neck and speaks in a low murmur, a lump in his throat. “I took all I need.”

Harry tips his head back slightly to contemplate Draco. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“It’s hardly a chore.” Draco smoothes Harry’s hair from his forehead.

“What now?” Harry’s face holds the look of uncertainty he often gets after nights like this and Draco kisses him again, softly this time.

“Shower. I’ll get your pyjamas and make tea and toast.”

When Harry smiles, Draco knows he doesn’t have to make any grand declarations of love.

Because he’s making tea, toast and digging Harry’s ridiculous soft tartan pyjamas from the depths of one of the drawers. He’s going to get back from the kitchen just in time to scrub Harry’s back and he’s going to suck Harry’s cock, slide his tongue down Harry’s chest and taste every part of Harry’s delicious skin. He’ll tell Harry off for getting crumbs on the bed and then he’ll use his fingers slowly and with lots of lube, just the way Harry likes while their bodies press together under the sheets.

Then they’ll talk about Harry’s other plans, and tangle their feet together. Their kisses will taste of warm, sweet tea and Harry’s skin will smell like Draco’s favourite shower gel. They’ll stay up until Harry’s hair gets fluffy and sticks up in crazy, haphazard tufts. Draco will pat it down and huff about getting Harry a proper haircut one of these days when they both know that’s never going to happen.

They’ll sleep. Harry might wake up shouting and scared as he does sometimes in the early hours of the morning when there’s no one but Draco around to see. Harry isn’t scared of anything but his dreams anymore, and Draco plans to make sure those dreams never come true.

They’ll curl up together and when the sun comes up, Harry will go on being an Auror and Draco will go on taking Gringotts by storm.

And Draco will carry on loving Harry Potter, even when he can’t say the words.

~Fin~
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