Title: Sometimes it Takes a Dragon
Author: Mindabbles
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco, with Charlie
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Deserted island, except it's a cave.
Other Warnings: Voyeurism
Word Count: 4,000
Summary/Description: Charlie wants to see them together and he's tired of waiting.
Author's Notes: This started as a desert island, it really did, but somehow they ended up in a cave. That was quite a trick.



“Watch—” Charlie shouts. He’s a moment too late. It’s a simulation, but the simulated tail of a Hungarian Horntail still lets you know it’s been there. Harry lands on his arse in the actual, non-simulated mud.

“Where’s your Seeker’s reflexes, Harry?” Draco asks, just as the dragon comes back around and huffs a hot breath down the back of his neck. He yelps and jumps. The avatar dragon’s breath isn’t hot enough to set his robes on fire. It will leave a sunburn.

Charlie misses being out in the wild with real dragons. As much as he misses it, he loves the one month a year he comes back to England to help train aurors. Every year, the Ministry insists that every auror who works in the field get training in evading, defense against, and if need be, immobilizing dragons. Charlie’s pleased to see that Harry and Ron are faring the best, although he’d have to admit that’s not saying much. He hopes none of the rest of the aurors come up against a real dragon. Although, Draco seems to be doing quite well. Two others have ended up in St. Mungo’s.

Charlie enjoys this assignment and he always volunteers. The last couple of years have been great fun for another reason. Watching Harry and Draco dance around each other, seeing how they challenge each other, imagining the sparks when they finally give in and fuck each other, has been the best wank material Charlie has ever gathered.

*

“They’re quiet as doves when they want to be,” Charlie tells the group of eager faces watching him. They’re all bright enough to know that it could be life or death if they don’t listen. Learning to evade and handle a dragon is a bit like learning how to get out of quicksand—it won’t happen often, and it might never happen in your lifetime, but if it does, you’d better be damned certain you know what to do. “If a dragon manages to get behind you, you’re done for. Anyone know why that is?”

“Because the only way to judge their next movement is to look them in the eyes,” Draco says.

“Yes and no,” Charlie says. He's right, technically, but the look Harry shoots him and the way Draco pretends he doesn't know Harry is waiting for the chance to antagonize him is worth it. “That’s true, but if it’s right up on your arse, it doesn’t matter what it does next. If you’re facing the beast, you can fly or run behind it. It takes raw nerve, but none of you are lacking in that to have made it this far. Anyone know what I’m getting at?”

“You have to be willing to dive between its front legs, go under it, so it can’t burn you,” Harry says.

Right you are, Harry.” Charlie says, grinning—more at the way Draco bites his lip than anything else. “Guess what’s next?”

Charlie partners them on every exercise. You'd think others would say something, but neither Harry nor Draco ever complains, and they're each something of the alpha around here, in their own way. No one is going to say something about it if they don't. “Draco and Harry, you two both had ideas about how to handle this, so let’s see what you make of my friend Gertie.”

Draco pretends to roll his eyes. Ron does roll his eyes and it occurs to Charlie that his brother is probably the only one who would speak up—if, that is, he thought it was something Harry really didn't want.

*

They really do bring out both the best and the worst in each other.

Charlie and the others gather around the Looking Glass. The two of them are easily visible, already arguing, battling with each other over the best strategy.

"Don't let the git distract you," Ron mutters.

"He can't hear you," Charlie says.

"I know, but—" Ron drops off because what they can see from their vantage point, that Harry and Draco can't from their place in the woods, is that Gertie has caught their scent.

Harry is gesturing and Draco has his arms crossed over his chest. Draco looks like he's about to dare Harry to shove him or challenge him to a duel. Charlie sees the moment Harry hears Gertie. He does shove Draco and they both dash behind a tree. The Looking Glass changes the angle so the entire group can see that Draco is sprawled in the mud and Harry is lying directly on top of him, holding him completely still. Gertie swoops past them — losing them with the cessation of their movement.

“Well done,” Charlie says. “Remember that about half the species of dragons can only see prey that’s moving.”

He looks back at the Looking Glass. Harry and Draco are still lying in the mud, Harry on top of Draco, their bodies perfectly aligned. Charlie’s cock twitches as he counts off the seconds in his head since they’ve been out of danger.

Ron clears his throat. As if Harry has heard him, he leaps off Draco and stalks away. Draco lies there for a moment, shakes his head and comes slowly to standing.

*

Steam billows from the shower. Harry washes the mud from his hair. Soap and water stream down his body. He’s no skinny kid anymore. He’s still thin, but muscles born of hard work make him look solid. Charlie’s fingers itch to touch him.

Draco, on the other hand, looks like he’s about to combust. Draco leans against the wall near the showers. He has a towel around his slim hips and another around his neck. Tendrils of damp hair brush against the towel.

“I see you looking, Draco,” Charlie says.

Draco starts and pulls the towel from around his neck and holds it in front of him.

Charlie walks up behind Draco, presses his chest to Draco’s back. “He knows we’re watching,” whispers Charlie. He can feel Draco tense. Harry rubs soap over his chest. “He wants you to touch him. I’ve been watching it all day, all month really. He wants you." A shiver runs through Draco's body. "And you want him."

"You have lost whatever you had that passed for a mind," Draco says. With obvious effort, he rips himself away from the sight of Harry bending over to wash mud from his calves.

This situation has the need to take it up a bit written all over it.

*

Draco studies the map. Harry on the other hand is forging ahead without regard for instructions.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" Draco shouts after him. "Weasley said we should look for caves. There are caves marked—"

"The cave will be near the cliffs," Harry shouts back. "We're wasting daylight."

Weasley seems to get some kind of perverse pleasure out of throwing Draco together with Harry again and again. Draco can't say he shares his tastes.

He strides out, picking up the pace to catch up with Harry. Harry moves remarkably fast and Draco will not run after him. Draco can hear the crash of waves. He stops to glance at the map Weasley gave them. It's blank.

"Harry, there's something wrong," Draco shouts. "Slow down before you end up stepping off a cliff.”

"What now?" Harry asks, turning on his heel. "We're almost there. Will you keep up?"

"The map is blank," Draco says. Harry is flushed from the sea air and running like a maniac. It suits him.

Harry finally pauses. He takes the map from Draco's hand and brushes Draco's fingers as he does. His fingers are warm on Draco's cold ones.

"Odd," Harry says.

"This whole exercise is odd. I think we should call it."

"Charlie set this up so he could see what we'd do with it. I'm not calling it because something is odd," Harry says. "The map was probably done in disappearing ink. If you want to go, go."

There is no way. No way. Draco is going to leave if Harry is going to press on. "I don't know about you, but magical objects behaving in an odd fashion hasn't worked so well for me in the past.”

“Then put it in your pocket and come on,” Harry says. “I’m going this way.” He points to the east, again in the direction of cliffs.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Don’t be an idiot. We don’t know where we are. We haven’t had any communication from Weasley for ages and we know there is a mother dragon somewhere, who will be very concerned about us coming near where she has her eggs. We need to know where and why we’re going.”

“Call it a gut feeling,” Harry says, stalking off again.

“Fuck,” Draco mutters. He tries to remember the map before it disappeared. Water, cliffs, dense forest, a network of caves — all things that signal dragon territory. All to the east. “Damn it,” he sighs, following Harry again.

“Here,” Harry calls, still twenty feet ahead of Draco.

It’s too easy, Draco thinks as he arrives next to Harry. A cave is right there in front of them. It’s too easy. Harry’s gut feeling, the obviousness of the terrain, the cave entrance being right where Harry walked — all too easy.

"The egg must be in here,” Harry says. “Charlie made it too easy this time.”

“I agree,” Draco says, but that’s not what he really means. He finds himself stepping into the cave behind Harry, despite his misgiving. It’s there; nestled in a neat nest woven of twigs, leaves, and bits of shiny and sparkly things the dragon must have gathered from hikers.

Harry reaches for the dragon's egg. It's beautiful and Draco wants to touch it as well. It’s deepest black with swirls of every colour that exists in the universe. He really wants to touch it. It’s all too easy. Harry must be having the same feelings as Draco, because just as his fingers touch the surface, Draco feels him hesitate.

"Harry—" Draco begins and he hears Harry swear at the same moment as he feels the ground rip from beneath him.

*

Draco could have done a dozen other things with his life. He could have taken up the potions apprenticeship with mother's friend in Wales. He could have gone with Blaise and his current, well then, stepfather into importing art. He could have become a gardener at the Manor. He could have been Hagrid's bloody assistant, mucking out creatures' pens.

Anything would have be preferable to his actual choice that now had him crouching behind a rock, that probably wasn't even real, waiting to be consumed by a most enraged dragon. Simulation or not, the thing seemed keen on devouring them.

“I’m not convinced this is a simulation,” Harry whispers, as if reading Draco’s mind.

"Well, this is your thing, isn't it," Draco snaps. "What the hell are we going to do?"

“What’s my thing,” growls Harry.

Draco cannot believe that the idiot is going to choose this moment to be obtuse, but that’s his thing as well, isn’t it?

“Getting out of deadly situations,” Draco says slowly. The dragon is closer and it’s sniffing the air as if someone’s baking a tart. The cave is tiny and there is no way around the thing. This would be a grand time for Weasley to notice a problem and pop in from his place behind the Looking Glass.

“All right, then,” Harry says. He squeezes Draco's hand quickly and before Draco can register his shock at the contact, three things happen at once.

The idiot leaps out from behind the rock, sending sparks from his wand as he dives under the dragon’s front legs. He's heard Harry say, more than once, that he survived and won the war with help from his friends and pure luck. Seeing this performance, he believes it more than he ever has. The dragon lets out a roar and a burst of flame just as Harry dashes, distracted for a second, the dragon turns its head and torches a tangle of vines on the cave wall. That really doesn’t look like a simulation. Draco sees his only chance and tears after Harry, toward the mouth of a small cave.

*

Fucking stupid Potter.

"Sometimes throwing yourself into danger doesn't actually help things," Draco says. His voice sounds tight and tense to his own ears. It echoes off the walls of this new cave, where the entrance seems to be sealed by a giant boulder. "Damn it."

Harry isn't moving and Draco’s spent far too much time in caves today.

"Lumos." Light falls across Harry's face and Draco leans down to look closer. He's definitely breathing. He's probably just in shock, Draco tells himself. There are no visible injuries. Draco brushes Harry's face with the back of his hand. He traces his thumb along Harry's cheekbone. His lashes are black as ink against his pale skin. Draco's thumb strays to trace Harry's slightly parted lips. Fucking stupid Potter.

Harry stirs and Draco yanks his hand back.

"Harry."

Harry blinks and Draco sees flashes of green. He quells the desire to grab him and hold him tight.

"Wha—" Harry pushes himself to a half-sitting position. "What happened?" He scrubs his hands over his hair, making it stand on end like a hedgehog.

Draco leans in before he has a chance to stop himself. He presses his forehead against Harry's and they both freeze for the time it takes to draw two breaths. Harry doesn't move and Draco eases Harry back to the floor of the cave and kisses him. Harry gasps and Draco feels it against his lips. He angles his head and lets his lips part with Harry's, pressing in deeper. Harry kisses him back and Draco lets his fingers twine in that ridiculous hair for the first time. Harry's arms come around him and Draco can't help but move his body over Harry—something he's thought about so, so many times.

"Oh," Harry whimpers.

Draco pulls back and pushes himself up on his arms. "You're hurt," he says, trying to make it all add up that he's just kissed Harry, and that he chose seconds after Harry regained consciousness for the moment.

"I'm fine."

"You whimpered," Draco says.

"That wasn't pain."

"Oh," Draco gasps when Harry pulls him back down and drags him in for another kiss.

Harry's hands move over his back and his tongue moves silkily in and out of his mouth.

"It’s about bloody time," a deep voice says, behind them.

Draco starts and rolls off Harry, very reluctantly. Charlie is in the mouth of the cage, arms crossed and looking pretty chuffed with himself.

"You," Harry says. He sits up and folds his hands awkwardly over his groin. "You knew where we were."

"What?" Draco asks. He's fuzzy with desire and he doesn't like being interrupted.

Weasley scratches his head and frowns. "The dragon was never supposed to get that close and the cave wasn't supposed to seal up, but, yeah."

"You still haven't explained why you chose now to pop in," Draco says. His erection is deflating and he's not feeling charitable about it. "We needed you about half an hour ago.

"The Looking Glass stopped working. I couldn't see you anymore to see if you were all right, so I popped in and then saw the cave was sealed. I didn't know if I'd be able to Apparate in, but, well, you know the rest."

"You've been watching us," Harry says.

Draco feels a ripple of magic run through him as Harry's blood begins to boil. Charlie feels it, too.

"I've been watching you every chance I get," says Charlie, taking two steps closer.

Draco knew Charlie always puts them together for a reason, and right now he can't find it in himself to be angry with Weasley.

"That's hot," Draco says. He runs his hand over the curve of Harry's arse and watches the way that Charlie's eyes follow the movement.

*

Charlie is not sure how he's ended up with exactly what he wanted. He was certain for a time that the two of them were so stubborn they would never end up fucking. Then the bastards started without him. He'll put it down to Draco, who clearly doesn't mind being watched, and Harry, who clearly has a bit of a thing for being told what to do.

The firelight casts a soft glow over both of them. They look beautiful together, both naked and hard. Charlie conjures a big, squashy mattress. No need for them to be uncomfortable.

Draco sits on the bed and spreads his legs. Harry watches him, slowly stroking his cock. Harry licks his lips.

“Come on, Draco,” Charlie says. He presses his hand to his aching cock. They've been toying with each other for ages, kissing and touching and taking their sweet bloody time. “Make him suck your cock.”

Harry drops to his knees before Draco has the command out of his mouth. He licks the underside of Draco's cock and Draco clenches his fists in the fabric. Charlie squeezes his cock through his clothes, as Harry sucks just the head of Draco's cock into his mouth. Draco curves his hands around Harry's head, digging his fingers into his hair, and pushes down. Charlie can hear Harry moan as his takes Draco further into his mouth.

"Suck," Draco says. Harry moves his head and his cheeks hollow out.

Charlie's cock throbs and he slides his hand into his pants. "Don't make him come that way," Charlie says. "I think he wants you to fuck him, Harry. The way he looks at you, isn't that right Draco."

Draco moans and thrusts into Harry's mouth. Harry pulls back slowly, letting Draco's cock slip from his mouth.

"Turn around," Harry says, his voice lower and rougher than Charlie has ever heard it.

"Yes," Charlie says. He pulls his cock from his pants and moves his hand up and down it as slowly as he can stand. "Turn around." Charlie can see Draco about to balk, argue that he's not the one being ordered about here. "Harry's going to get you ready."

Draco stands. His thighs tremble. He turns around, baring his beautiful back and magnificent arse to Charlie and Harry. Charlie squeezes a bit harder on his cock and Harry reaches for his own.

Harry reaches to palm Draco's arse and he scoots closer, still on his knees. Anticipation is in the air like a charge and Charlie wants to be suspended in this moment. He stills his hand on his cock, curving around the head.

"Well?" Draco asks impatiently.

“Relish it,” Charlie says. “The great hero, on his knees, waiting to kiss your arse isn’t something you see every day.”
Draco bends and presents himself to Harry. “Say the word, Weasley,” he says. "Say it."

Harry kneels behind Draco at the foot of the bed. He’s flushed and his hair sticks out in every direction, making him look just-shagged. Charlie would half love to end this and throw Harry on the bed and fuck him himself, but Draco wants him so badly that the show is bound to be almost as good as doing it himself.

“Fuck,” Harry moans. “Charlie. Draco.”

“Go ahead. Touch him, Harry,” says Charlie. “Spread his arse. I want to hear him beg.”

“I think he already has,” Draco says. “I don’t beg.”

“Sounds like a challenge, Harry. I want you to kiss him. Slowly.” Harry does. He presses his lips to Draco's arse and Draco bends forward a little more, pushing his arse to Harry’s mouth. “Lick him. Lick his rim.”

Draco groans and bites his lip. Charlie squeezes his cock and relishes the tiny moment of relief before his whole body seems to throb.

“Weasley,” Draco grinds out. “Tell him to do something else for fuck’s sake.”

“Stick your tongue inside him,” Charlie says. “Point it and work it into his arse.”

Harry groans and Charlie can tell from the strangled little scream coming from Draco that Harry has followed his instructions perfectly.

“That’s it, fuck him with it. Get him ready for your cock,” Charlie says. He licks his own finger and works just the tip into his arse, teasing himself as he slowly strokes his cock. “Imagine, Draco. If his tongue feels like that, what’s his cock going to feel like?”

Draco presses his forehead to the bed. He’s sweaty and flushed, his aristocratic derriere in the air, pressing hungrily against Harry. Draco’s hair is in complete disarray, pale strands falling over his face and catching on his lips. His fingers tangle in the sheets. He looks as disheveled as Harry ever did.

“Do you feel it, Harry? Do you feel him opening for you? When you feel that, slide a finger in next to your tongue.”

“Fuck,” Draco gasps as Harry adds his finger.

Charlie gasps, too, as he pushes a second finger inside himself. He taps the base of his cock with his wand and a slender band of leather encircles the base. He wants to feel every moment of this.

“Good lad, Harry. Fuck him slowly. Watch how he takes you in. He wants more. You want more, don’t you Draco?”

Draco groans and grits his teeth. It’s like watching someone on Veritaserum try not to spill their every secret.

“All you have to do is beg, and I’ll tell him to fuck you. When you want his cock—and it is a beauty—say the word.”

Harry grabs his cock and squeezes hard. His eyes are fixed on Draco’s perfect, round arse and how his fingers move in and out. “Draco,” Harry commands. “Just bloody do it.”

Draco doesn’t say a word, but thrusts back harder on Harry’s hand. He tenses, and for a moment, Charlie thinks he’s going to come on Harry’s fingers.

Harry rears up. “Not waiting,” he says, with a defiant glare that just looks so right on Harry’s face and makes Charlie’s balls ache.

Harry grabs Draco's hips and circles his cock with one hand. He leans forward and Charlie has to move to watch as he presses the tip into Draco's cleft.

"Now," Charlie says.

Draco is writhing and moaning, trying to push against Harry. He never did beg, but this is better. Harry is biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, and Charlie is burning up with the need to come. None of them are going to last long.

"Fuck him," he says again and Harry pushes inside. His thick cock stretches Draco's tight rim and Charlie watches every bit enter Draco's body.

"Fuck," moans Draco, rocking back against Harry until their bodies seem fused together.

Charlie wraps his hand around the end of his cock and slides it down to the root, until he can feel the tight ring against his hand. He strokes back up again as Harry pulls out. He matches them stroke for stroke, watching every movement, every detail of how Draco's body welcomes Harry and every twitch and clench of every muscle. They all speed up together and Draco begins to gasp and push back harder against Harry. Harry grips his waist and pulls him back onto his cock again and again. Charlie's cock is slick now, slicker each time he passes his hand over the head.

Harry starts that fast, jerking motion, control gone, that shows he's going to come any moment. It's inevitable. Charlie mimics the movements with his hand and rids himself of the restricting ring. He keeps his eyes open and on Harry and Draco as Harry pushes in hard and stills, for just a second, before he reaches around to grasp Draco's cock. He tries to watch them collapse together on the bed into a sated, overheated pile, but his orgasm rushes through him with such intensity that his eyes close and every muscle in his body tenses. He keeps his hand moving, slowly now, on his cock until it starts to be too much. He slumps against the wall behind him and opens his eyes.

Harry and Draco are lying on the bed. Draco is stroking up and down Harry's body languidly and Harry is twining his fingers through Draco's hair. They are both staring at him in a way that makes Charlie feel he ought to run, but he can't bring himself to feel anything but good.

“Weasley looks altogether too smug,” Draco says.

"I agree," says Harry, nodding.

"I think we're going to have to find the right way to pay him back."

Harry sighs deeply. "Yes, but not today."

"Tomorrow's another day, lads," says Charlie. "And by that, I mean another day of my training exercises." He conjures another bed for himself. "Get some rest. You'll need it."