Title: Anything But (Ordinary)
Author: digthewriter
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: "negotiation" and "normophilia"
Other Warnings/Content: EWE. Bottom!Harry.
Word Count: ~2040
Summary/Description: He cannot believe that Potter of all people can turn him on just by reading a fucking book!
Author's Notes: This was a hard one! (Hehe). The themes really made my brain shut down and not in a good way! I hope you guys like it! All my thanks to ravenclawsquill, and smirkingcat for the beta! All the remaining mistakes are mine.



It's his hands.

For someone who is fairly broad everywhere else, Potter's fingers are long and lean. They make Draco's look short and stubby and that's moderately impossible to do.

They’re nothing special, but Draco likes to fantasise about them.

As Potter sits across from him, flipping the pages of his book, Draco can't help but be bothered by it. And by bothered, Draco means turned on. He cannot believe that Potter of all people can turn him on just by reading a fucking book!

As the minutes tick by, Potter continues to read. When he thinks no one is looking, he licks the tip of his index finger and flips over the page. Draco nearly lets out a groan at that.

"You alright, Malfoy?" Potter asks, looking up. Seriously, why does Draco still sit with him?

Draco often finds himself wondering what the chances were of he and Potter choosing the same Muggle university to fulfill the Auror Academy’s required pre-training placement. They seem fairly slim. Even more unlikely is the way in which, on the first day Draco used the library, the only vacant seat in the entire building was the one opposite Potter. What choice did he have, other than to take it?

Now, studying with Potter is more habit than anything else. Even if there are other seats available, Draco sits with Potter – and if Draco’s early, Potter chooses to sit with him.

The problem is, all Draco seems to do is obsess over Potter's fingers, or stare at the totally normal way he reads a book, or writes in his notebook, or whatever other normal thing he happens to do. Draco’s pretty sure his fixation is absolutely not normal.

How is it possible that being so normal with Potter turns him on so much? It's fucking unbelievable!

"I...yeah...I'm fine, Potter."

Draco gives a curt nod and starts to pack away his things. Because no, he can’t study while he fixates over Potter's fingers, wondering if their size really say anything about Potter's cock and, well—Draco doesn't really want to go there now, does he?

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"What? Why?"

Potter shrugs and runs a hand through his hair, and Draco watches his movements as his fingers rake through the strands on Potter's head that look like silk. Draco wants to reach over and do the same thing to him. "If you didn't have plans, then—"

"Then?" Draco's getting impatient because he’d really rather be anywhere but here. Like, in Potters bed, with Potter's normal fingers wrapped around his cock. Yes, so okay, he'd be fine in that situation.

"Fancy a drink?"

"Oh. With you? Where?" Draco asks because suddenly the image of Potter's fingers wrapped around a tall pint glass is something he just has to see. Or maybe a wine glass. Yes, that would be just perfect. Potter would hold the stem in such a delicate manner, it'd make Draco swoon.

Potter bites his lower lip. His eyes dart to Draco's mouth before he says, "The Leaky? I've been itching to do some magic. You know, be around wizards."

Draco smiles at that. Why is Potter such a bloody commoner? More importantly, why does that rouse Draco?

"Very well," Draco says. His response is rewarded by with the biggest grin on Potter's face Draco has ever seen, and his heart warms up.

As it does, Draco realises he wants this too. He wants to make Potter smile like that, and make his heart all melty, and do all the things normal people do before they go home and fuck each other's brains out.

Bloody hell, it makes Draco feel so...normal.

It's brilliant.

He'd never even dared to hope he could go back to being in a state where the simple pleasures in life were there for his taking. It's been a long time since the war, though, and he's finally at peace.

He must be, because he thinks it's totally okay to want to fuck Potter. Who may or may not be on board with the idea.

=*=

Potter orders them brandy, which arrives in a snifter glass. Draco's eyes are absolutely fixed on Potter's hands as he cradles the glass, warming the drink within. When he puts the glass down, Draco nearly frowns. His frustration melts away, though, when he's rewarded with the sight of Potter reaching into his coat pocket and taking out his wand.

Draco watches as Potter's fingers wrap around the wand, barely managing to contain a whimper, and then Potter places them under a privacy spell. Soon, the rush and the noise of the pub leaves them and they're settled in a cocoon of their own making.

"It's like the library, but now we can talk," Potter says with a smile. He picks up the snifter glass and swirls the drink around before taking a sip. "I just love the smell of brandy, don't you?"

Draco nods, and he has to tear his gaze away before he takes a sip of his own drink. It goes down warm, but it's not the same heat he felt at the smile Potter gave him earlier. That was a better feeling than any spirit could give him.

It's not long before Potter kisses him.

=*=

They're in Potter's flat now. It's in the Muggle part of the city, similar to Draco's, since they’re required to live in the Muggle world as part of their training. Draco can tell that Potter's definitely far more comfortable with the this world than most other wizards he knows.

"Can I get you another drink?" Potter asks, and before Draco can respond, he adds, "Or would you rather watch me read a book?"

Draco's eyes widen for a second; he's almost speechless before he shakes his head and reaches over for Potter's hands. He's been wanting to touch them all night. One by one, Draco takes Potter's fingers in his mouth and sucks on them.

Potter lets out a low hiss and closes the distance between them, pressing his hips against Draco's. "Fuck, Malfoy."

"That'll come later..." Draco says softly.

"What do you want me to—?"

"Undress me," Draco says, and Potter obeys.

Draco watches Potter's hands as they unbutton Draco's waistcoat and shirt, then shrugs out of them and lets them fall to the floor. He nearly gasps when Potter's nimble fingers unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, then stumbles in his hurry to step out of them.

"Now you," Draco says, when he's standing completely naked in Potter's sitting room. "Slowly."

Draco's cock is hard and aching, and he doesn't even have to touch himself to feel pre-come dripping from the tip.

Potter starts by turning his back, giving Draco an excellent view of his arse, before removing his tie and shirt. He undoes his trousers and bends down to take them off, Draco has half a mind to lean down and bite into Potter's perfect skin.

"Now?" Potter asks, sounding eager, when he turns and faces Draco again.

"I want to watch you..." Draco drawls.

"Yeah?" Potter sounds impatient.

"Open yourself up for me. On your bed. On all fours. I want to watch you get yourself ready."

Potter whimpers at that. Draco is astonished at how calm his own voice sounds. The idea of Potter's fingers—of watching Potter fuck himself with them—is almost enough to send him over the edge. His cock twitches at the thought and it doesn’t go unnoticed: Potter looks down at Draco's erection and smiles.

"You sure you can wait that long?" he teases.

"Don't worry, Potter. I plan on fucking you all night long."

At that, Potter takes two steps forward and launches himself at Draco. His mouth is warm and greedy, and when Draco slides his tongue into Potter's mouth, Potter moans around it.

"Bedroom," Draco says, continuing to feign nonchalance. On the inside, he's dying. His heart is beating a million times per second and he is aching to touch Potter.

Potter wastes no time at all in grabbing him by the elbow and leading him there.

=*=

Draco relaxes back on the bed, his cock in his hand, as he watches Potter prepare himself, sliding his fingers in and out of his arse. Potter's just above him, straddling his legs, and Draco's cock is mere inches away. But he's waiting. He likes to watch. He's fixated on the way Potter’s fingers are pumping in and out, and he wants to know what they would feel like inside him.

Next time, he tells himself.

"Please, Draco..." Potter's begging now, and Draco is so close to the edge himself. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. He wants to come inside Potter. He wants to be sucking on Potter's fingers while Potter fucks himself on Draco's cock.

"Turn around," Draco says. "Ride me."

Draco threads his fingers through Potter's and brings their hands close to his mouth to kiss Potter's knuckles. Potter lets out a small moan, as he slowly slides down Draco's cock, throwing his head back. He's never looked more beautiful.

"You're perfect," Draco finds himself blurting out.

That gets Potter's attention. He snaps his gaze to Draco and flashes another of his brilliant smiles. "With or without your obsession with my hands?"

"Shut up!" Draco says, unable to hide his embarrassment. "Touch yourself for me."

"It's what I do every night," Potter says, looking sincere.

"What?"

"Touch myself because of you."

"Yeah?" Draco asks with awe. He had no idea Potter wanted him like that. He wonders how long Potter’s felt this way, but now’s not the time to ask.

Draco grips Potter's hips to steady him, trying to control the rhythm with which Potter's riding him. Then Potter wraps the exquisite fingers of his right hand around Draco’s cock while his other hand grasps onto Draco's shoulder.

Sweat drips down Potter's face and neck. His glasses slip down to the tip of his nose as he rides Draco hard. Draco doesn't know where to look. He wants to reach up and lick the sweat off Potter's skin; he wants to watch Potter's eyes, which are fixed on him intently; and above all, he wants to watch Potter's hand work his cock. He arches up, meeting Potter in mid-air as Potter settles himself down on his cock.

Potter's groans are the most distracting things ever. Draco’s going to have to do something about that. Perhaps next time he can, fuck Potter's mouth while those beautiful fingers play with Draco's nipples.

That thought in itself pushes Draco over the edge and as he cries out his release, Potter isn't far behind. Draco's body tenses as Potter's arse clenches around his cock.

When Draco slides out of Potter, Potter removes his glasses and crashes on the bed beside him. He buries his face in Draco's neck, breathing heavily.

"Fuck, I needed that."

"Oh?" Draco asks, wondering whether Potter means he needed to have sex, or whether he means he needed have sex with him.

"Yeah. I've been wanting to ask you out for ages now. Finally, I had my chance today, and I couldn't pass it up. I know it's not normal to pine after your classmate and we're going to be in Auror training together next year, but—"

"Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

"Okay," Potter says, and Draco can hear the smile in his voice.

=*=

The next morning when Draco wakes up, he finds Potter next to him with his glasses on, reading one of their textbooks.

His fingers are settled against the spine of the book and Draco's staring at them as his own hand travels down on his own accord to stroke his cock.

"Is that how it is?" Potter says teasingly. He closes the book and places it on the bedside table. "Love watching me read, don't you? Watching me flip the page with my fing—"

"I’d rather your fingers be doing something else right now," Draco says, pushing the sheet down to expose his erection to Potter.

"Hands or mouth?" Potter asks, licking his lips. That cheeky bastard. He wants Potter's mouth on him, because he wants Potter's fingers inside him.

Maybe it's Potter's hands.

Or maybe, it's just everything about Potter.

---