traintracks (train_tracks) wrote in adventdrabbles, @ 2012-12-08 13:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | contributor: train_tracks, dec08, year: 2012 |
Dec08, Harry Potter, Harry/Scorpius, "The Claiming"
Title: The Claiming
Author: train_tracks
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 900
Warnings: cross-gen; rough sex; angst; possible infidelity; um, arse filling??
Disclaimer: I don't own much of anything, least of all anything having to do with Harry Potter.
A/N: This is for adventdrabbles and prompts #7 & 8: 'snowglobe' and 'cuddling under the covers for warmth'. Yes, I'm sick that THIS is what I come up with for those prompts. *facepalm*
"Come back to bed."
"In a minute," Harry told him.
He sighed dramatically. "What do you see in it, anyway? There's much more to see under here." He shifted so the blankets fell down past his narrow naked hips. His cock was starting to get hard again.
But Harry sat at the little table by the cabin window and stared into the stupid snowglobe, transfixed. Scorpius hadn't the first clue why he'd even brought it with them. It was just a Muggle snowglobe. Just the sort of trashy thing one finds marked up sky-high at a carnival gift shop. But apparently it was a gift from Lily from years ago, and Harry had deemed it proper to bring it with them up into the mountains for Scorpius' training in elite rescue-brooming, which would become his Auror specialty once he'd completed it. Scor was well-suited to it, he knew. He was also well-suited to Harry's bed. They both knew that.
If Harry would *come* to bed and leave off the silly toy.
"I'm freezing," Scorpius whined, choosing a different tactic. He wasn't sure which tactics actually worked best on Harry. They'd only been at this affair for three months. Three amazing months. Scorpius didn't have the slightest clue what went on in that head of Harry Potter's most of the time. He only knew that look. The look he'd get when Scorpius would find Harry staring at him with those dark hooded eyes, the lick of tongue over his bottom lip, lust dueling guilt.
He'd fall into bed with Scorpius then, ravenous, like he'd as soon hurt him as make love to him. He'd sink his cock in with sometimes no prep and Scorpius would purr his satisfaction. He liked it rough after all.
But tonight he was having trouble getting Harry's attention in the first place. And he'd thought this trip alone together would be righteous fun. What the hell did he know?
"Harry?" He really was starting to get cold, and he yearned to pull the blankets back up, but he didn't want to lose the use of his one sure-fire talent: luring this complicated man into his arms.
Harry finally sighed and put the snowglobe away in his bag. He stared out the window for a moment, into the inky night. Then he did a new warming charm and stripped out of his clothes, down to the skin. He turned his gaze on Scorpius and swallowed. Scorpius' cock was raging hard, watching him.
Then Harry lifted the blankets, lost his breath a little bit at the sight of Scorpius' pale bare body, then he laid down on top of him, covered them both up again, shivered once, and then silently started to rock his hips, rutting their cocks together. Scor opened his legs for Harry to lie between then. Harry took his wrists and raised them over his head, pinning them to the pillow. He held Scorpius' gaze the whole time, frotting against him, harder and harder, until the bed springs squeaked and the old headboard banged against the wall.
"Harry…" Scorpius cried once. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and came between them, splashing their stomachs, hips working against Harry's.
Harry wasted no time. He scooped the come up in his hand, flipped Scor over, pressed two sticky fingers into his hole, and then, leaving them there, followed with his cock, slowly easing it in beside his fingers until Scorpius was fuller than full.
"Oh Christ!"
And then Harry propped a hand by his head and fucked. He left his fingers inside, like a special brand of torture, a claiming, and he fucked his cock in next to them until he arched and shouted to the ceiling and came violently.
He pulled his cock out before his fingers, leaving them to thrust tenderly through the mess, Scorpius' sloppy hole. Scorpius was shaking by the time Harry was done, fucked out, transformed.
It had been so brutal, so impersonal, Scor expected Harry to slip off his back and turn away to sleep. Instead, Harry lay his lips against Scorpius' trembling shoulder and kissed him. He kissed soft down his spine, down to his buttocks, over them, leaving tender bites in the flesh. He opened Scor's arse and rimmed him, cleaning up the come. Then he kissed up his back to right behind his ear, and he whispered, "Why can't I get enough of you?"
Scorpius bit his lip in order not to gasp.
Harry shifted off of him and lay on his back, then he pulled him close, Scor's arm across his chest, hefting Scor's leg over his own hips. Harry lay there holding him. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow," he said. "You ought to sleep if you can."
"Can you?" Scorpius whispered against Harry's shoulder. His arse ached. It ached and he rejoiced at that feeling – that something of Harry was left inside him.
Harry sighed. "I don't know, Scorpius." He so rarely said his name. It was almost more intimate than the confession of love he'd never get. "I don't know." Then he pulled Scor even closer, even tighter to his side.
Scorpius closed his eyes and started to drift away, the snow blurring all around him, flying in all directions at once, obscuring the path where Harry walked ahead of him, walking faster than Scorpius could possibly keep up with. And he never looked back.