Title: Tell Me Lies
Author: sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Draco, non-explicit Harry/Ginny
Rating: Hard R
Genre: Angst, Naughty
Length/Word Count: Ficlet, ~700 words
Warnings: Angst, Masturbation, non-explicit Harry/Ginny, Infidelity, Blow jobs
Summary: Tonight, Ginny sleeps peacefully by his side, and all Harry can think about is Draco.
Notes: This is a companion piece to Take Me Down and will make more sense if you've read that one first, but can probably stand on its own. Written for bbtp_challenge 2010. Special thanks to samedy for reading this over first! <333 For torino10154 in honor of her new OTP! *ducks*
Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters that I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world that I didn't create. No copyright infringement intended, no money's being made.


Tell Me Lies

Harry's eyes close and the sounds and smell of that night assault him as they do every time he tries to sleep. Stale peanuts and spilled whisky, the drunken chatter of a crowded pub--and the smell of sex, sweaty and hot; when Harry shuts his eyes, he can almost taste it.

At first he managed to keep these fantasies--these memories--stuffed away in the dark hollows of his mind the days Ginny spends at home between out-of-town matches. But as the weeks creep on, the tendrils of that night slither through his head, unwilling to be pushed aside no matter if he's alone or not.

Tonight, Ginny sleeps peacefully by his side, and all Harry can think about is Draco.

Every man has fantasies, he consoled himself months earlier as he tuned out Mrs. Weasley arranging the last minute details of his wedding. They didn't mean anything--that he wasn't in love with Ginny--that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her.

But when Harry saw Draco that night at the Leaky, a flash of blond hair, grey eyes narrowed at him with a mixture of desire and hate, Harry couldn't help his actions. He tells himself it was the firewhisky, but that's just a flimsy excuse. He could have been stone cold sober and he still would have pushed the smirky blond into the loo and sucked him off like there was no tomorrow.

There was no tomorrow then. The wedding, getting married, Ginny didn't exist--just as she doesn't right now. She fades from Harry's side and his cock hardens, overwhelmed with memories of that night. There is only his knees against the hard floor, the soft fabric of Draco's robes twisted in his fist, the taste of salty skin, wisps of fine blond hair tickling Harry's nose as he swallows as much of Draco as he can take.

Harry discreetly slides his hand under his boxers and wraps his fingers around his cock just as he did that night. Biting back a moan, he remembers the feel of Draco heavy between his lips, the tang of pre-come smeared across his tongue, the twist of Draco's fingers as they hesitantly slid into Harry's hair, then clenched and yanked and guided Harry until Draco was fucking his mouth. Harry wanked himself in desperate strokes, coming moments before he was choking down Draco's spunk, his gaze trapped within piercing grey eyes.

A gasp escapes Harry's lips as he floods his boxers, and he's back in his bedroom, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He stills as quickly as he can, listening, hoping, praying to God and Merlin that he hasn't woken up his wife. She lets out a soft sigh and Harry tenses. Here it comes, he thinks. She knows. She's going to confront him--because why the hell would a happily married man be wanking while his wife sleeps in the bed beside him?

Harry knows the answer, but can't bring himself to admit it. He'll find some reason to explain his behaviour and she'll accept it, as she always does the times he dismisses her advances, or why he's normally up for a blow job but has to be coaxed into anything more. He'll tell her some pretty lie that will come to him any moment now, and he won't have to admit the truth.

A few minutes pass while Harry waits for the recriminations to begin, but all is silent. He steals a quick peek to his right and lets out a sigh of relief. Ginny's eyes are closed, her breath soft and even. She is still asleep.

One wordless spell later, and Harry is mostly unsticky, but he still stumbles out of bed and pads to the bathroom to finish the job. As he washes the remnants of his orgasm away, he vows this will never happen again.

And he firmly shoves his inner voice aside that helpfully points out not even he believes his own lies anymore.



-Fin-







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