Pairing(s): Harry/Draco (main) with mentions of Harry/Ginny, Draco/Pansy and Pansy/Gabrielle (implied)
Summary: Post DH. Harry and Draco are grown men now, but their childhood rivalry has somehow become something else…
Warning(s): Implied m/m sex, infidelity, angst, first time (with each other)
Note: Hope that this is something along the lines of what you wanted, dear recipient! The title comes from a Bob Marley song of the same name. Many thanks to my beta, who wishes to remain anonymous.
Harry knew that this was not right. Not right at all. He loved his wife Ginny dearly, and his children, just as Draco Malfoy presumably loved his own wife and son. And he and Malfoy had been bitter rivals all through their Hogwarts days, the same way that Harry’s younger son Albus Severus seemed to be developing a rivalry with the Malfoys' only son Scorpius.
Yet here he was, waiting for Draco Malfoy in a place where no witch or wizard would ever think to look for them. A Muggle hotel room – not a plush or expensive place, which Malfoy would have preferred (the snooty pure-blood had originally turned up his aristocratic nose at the thought of any Muggle hideaway, but Harry had managed to convince him that it was the safest and most discreet place to meet) but clean and pleasant enough. Harry looked at the clock on the wall – a round-faced, plain, noisy piece of non-magical machinery – and noted that Malfoy was late. Just fashionably late, Harry told himself – Malfoy always had to be overly dramatic about everything. Trust Malfoy to want to make an entrance for something like this, a clandestine night of adultery with another man.
Draco, his thoughts reminded him. You call him Draco these days. You're not enemies any more – far from it, in fact. Remember how he kisses, deep and fierce. How your heart seemed to leap for the first time in ages when he pushed you up against that wall in Knockturn Alley and claimed your lips with his. Almost biting, his tongue pushing hard into your mouth with a possessiveness that nearly left you breathless. Unmistakably sexual, and intensely masculine. Better than all those shameful, hidden fantasies that started to resurface after the children were born and Ginny’s dear, beloved body didn’t seem so enticing any more.
Harry adored Ginny still, and always would, but after their daughter Lily was weaned their sex life had seemed to wane. And Harry’s erotic musings, late at night as he surreptitiously stroked his aching erection, were mostly about other men. At first, handsome Quidditch players were the objects of his lust, then Harry’s thoughts turned to one or two men he had had brief and rather unsatisfactory flings with before he and Ginny had rekindled their youthful romance. Harry had felt considerable guilt over these nightly wanderings of his mind, but he had managed to convince himself that thinking about such things wasn’t the same as actually doing them. And anyway, he had told himself sternly after post-orgasmic remorse washed over him, he had no opportunity to stray from the marital bed and would make sure that things stayed that way.
And he had made sure that they did – until Draco Malfoy came back into his life.
It had all been so unexpected. Harry remembered how things had begun – so innocently, the day that Albus Severus and Scorpius had started school. The children's families had come down to the station to see them off, and Harry remembered how Draco had looked in his severe dark coat. Hair receding somewhat, but still slender and graceful, still built like the Seeker he had once been. Harry had felt his breath catch in his throat for a moment – he didn’t know what he was feeling for one timeless minute before Draco gave a curt nod to him and his family and turned away.
It's nothing, Harry had told himself late that night as he tossed and turned, Ginny sleeping obliviously by his side. I was just struck by his resemblance to his father. Always did think Lucius Malfoy was a good-looking bloke – pity he turned out to be such a bad egg…
But the fixation with his former enemy had only grown from there. Harry had run into Draco several times after that encounter at the Hogwarts Express, and things had escalated from then onwards. First there was a chance meeting in Diagon Alley, where both men had coincidentally arrived to buy potion ingredients, and an actual civil, if awkward, conversation was the result. Harry was unexpectedly charmed by the fact that Draco seemed diffident and shy as they talked, looking away from Harry at times, colouring slightly at certain words and phrases. No longer was he the cocky Malfoy of old… then there was the ball hosted by Gabrielle Delacour and the walk in the garden where the wives ended up being left to their own devices while Harry and Draco discussed everything under the sun as if they were the oldest of friends instead of childhood adversaries.
How had things grown so intense since then, Harry wondered? How did they progress from discussing the merits of today’s Quidditch Seekers versus those from their younger days and reminiscing about Professor Snape to kissing wildly in the shadows, groping one another’s hard cocks through their clothing? It all seemed a blur, everything moving so suddenly until he and Draco were arranging a tryst and finally agreeing to meet in this out of the way hotel.
Harry tried to distract himself from surges of guilt by gazing around him at the furnishings, but the green velvet curtains reminded him too much of the Slytherin colours for his liking. The clock's ticking seemed to echo far too loudly in the quietness of the room. Draco was very late now. Harry wondered if Draco had a guilty conscience about what they were going to do, but knew that it was unlikely. He had heard from a few reliable sources that Draco Malfoy, like his father before him, enjoyed discreet but frequent affairs with both beautiful women and attractive men. And unlike Ginny, whose heart would break at the mere thought of Harry’s infidelity, Draco’s wife Pansy didn’t appear to mind in the least. As long as she had her money and her jewels, her standing in the community and her beloved son, Pansy Malfoy obviously didn’t give a damn what her husband got up to. And of course, there were those rumours about her recent closeness with the lovely Gabrielle Delacour being something more than mere friendship… not that any of that was Harry’s business, of course.
Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Harry recalled Draco’s scent, the touch of his slim but strong hands and the heat of his whispered words as they clutched at each other in some dark, hidden corner. Draco had told him that this was different to anything he’d ever felt before, that he wanted Harry more than he’d ever desired anybody else. Harry groaned at the memory, his cock unbearably swollen against his pants. He needed so much to tear Draco’s clothes off and kiss each and every part of his body, to push the blond wizard onto his back, a pillow raising those slender hips high, and slick his tight arse with oil before fucking him senseless. Harry longed to hear Draco moaning his name aloud, crying out endearments and obscenities, and feel his nails digging into the bare skin of Harry’s back… he did not know if he was capable of being in love with anyone else besides Ginny, but what he was feeling for Draco came frighteningly close.
Harry opened his eyes and looked at the clock again; his heart sank as he wondered if Draco would ever come.