Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 17:18:00 |
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He had not tidied up the flat before he had left. He had not expected to be bringing someone back with him. But if Malfoy noticed, he said nothing.
They were scarcely through the door when Harry had second thoughts. This was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Malfoy who had snogged, or shagged, or both, a good three-fifths of their generation in the wizarding world. Malfoy who had helped locate Voldemort, sure, but who had spent hours dining out on that fact when he had not risked his own life to kill him. Malfoy who...
Malfoy who had taken Harry's arm, turned him around, and was now kissing him as if Harry were bread and Malfoy was starving. And Harry found himself reciprocating as if kisses were air and Harry was drowning.
It felt... right, as that one former relationship – even after seven years Harry could not bear to think the name – had never felt. Malfoy's body fit against his own and he could sense the heat between them even through layers of robes. His cock was hard, achingly so, but he could not tell for sure if Malfoy was or not.
His glasses were in the way. Harry reached up and pulled them off, awkwardly, not wanting to break off that kiss even for a moment, but as he did so Malfoy leaned away, breathing hard.
"I assume you have a bedroom?"
Harry nodded. "This way."
They couldn't keep their hands off each other even for the minute it took to lead Malfoy down the narrow hallway and into the bedroom. Malfoy had already undone the buttons of Harry's robes and was tugging them off by the time they tumbled together onto the rumpled bed. Harry rolled him over and started to do the same, but Malfoy pushed his hands away.
"Let me." He stood up and began to undress, deliberately, leaving Harry to watch. And, oh yes, Malfoy was hard, long slender cock jutting red and beautiful from a nest of pale curls.
Harry could see how he had gotten away with everything – who wouldn't want that body? Except, apparently, his wife. Or was it Malfoy who did not want her? Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about it, but Malfoy evidently misinterpreted the movement.
"Not what you expected? Changing your mind already?"
"No." The word came from Harry's throat without conscious thought. "No."
He scrambled up to finish removing his own clothes, but again Malfoy said, "Let me," and stripped away Harry's last defenses along with his clothes when he ran his fingertips along Harry's spine, across his shoulders, and down his stomach, pinching his nipples along the way but pausing just short of Harry's cock.
"How do you want this, Harry?" asked Malfoy, low.
It was better than any fantasy Harry had ever had about him. Malfoy, asking what Harry wanted. "I want you to fuck me."
Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure? It's been a while for you."
"Doesn't matter." And it didn't. If Malfoy ripped him open Harry would not care, tonight. "Lube's... somewhere."
"We won't need that." Malfoy touched Harry's cock, spreading the wetness that had seeped from the slit over the head of it, toying with the foreskin, tracing the vein that throbbed along the underside. He pushed Harry back onto the bed and knelt between his legs. "Not quite yet, but..." Malfoy's mouth engulfed Harry's balls, tonguing them, and he was saying something that Harry could not understand but knew had to be a lubricating spell from the way his arse suddenly felt.
He was not paying attention to that, though, not with wet heat and suction stretching his balls, and Malfoy's hands doing wicked things to his cock. Then Malfoy licked his way up and suddenly his teeth grazed Harry, not too hard, just enough to remind him who it was down there, sucking him off, Draco Malfoy, not entirely trustworthy but who the hell cared when Malfoy's throat had opened up to him and Harry was thrusting, unable to stop, fucking Malfoy's face until he came.
Malfoy let him do it, swallowing and then slowly licking Harry clean. If he had been too tender about it Harry could not have stood it, but somehow Malfoy's tongue was just rough enough not to jar on sensitive nerves.
"Now," Malfoy murmured, and probed a finger into Harry's arse. "Oh yeah, you're tight. No worries though." He flashed that brilliant grin again. "Let's just turn you over."
Harry grabbed a couple of pillows from the head of the bed and shoved them under his hips as he rolled over.
"That's right." Malfoy kept talking. "Relax for me, Harry, come on, relax, yeah, that's it," and Harry could feel himself being stretched out, carefully, Malfoy's fingers slipping in and out, sometimes brushing against his prostate and sometimes not, until he started rocking back against Malfoy, wanting more.
When Malfoy pulled his hand away, Harry tensed a little with anticipation.
"Relax," Malfoy murmured again. The head of Malfoy's cock was right there, right there, and Harry took a deep breath and exhaled it again, letting his muscles loosen as he breathed, and then, oh, then Malfoy was filling him, so slow, so tantalizing, and Harry tried to push back but Malfoy's hands were on his hips, preventing him.
It had been so long. Harry groaned as Malfoy pulled partway out and began another of those slow thrusts, then another, almost maddening they felt so good. His cock was hardening again too from the stimulation. Harry squirmed to get a hand past the pillow to wrap around it, bracing himself with his other arm as Malfoy finally picked up speed. Fisting himself in time with Malfoy's movements, he felt the slap of Malfoy's balls against his own skin.
Malfoy was chanting "Harry-Harry-Harry" with each thrust, his voice cracking, and when he came he grabbed Harry's hips so hard that his nails broke the skin in three places, but Harry didn't care, because about ten seconds later he shuddered in a second release that left him sprawled sticky across the pillows with Malfoy still inside him.
Slowly, Malfoy withdrew. He moved up to lie next to Harry, who rolled over to look at him.
"Thanks, Harry."
Harry blinked in surprise. "Uh... you're welcome. Thank you."
Malfoy smiled, this time a smile that would not have been out of place on a member of the winning team at a Quidditch World Cup, and put an arm around Harry.
"Happy Valentine's day."
Somehow, Harry was sure that this was not going to be the only time for them. Malfoy might have shagged more people than he could conveniently count, in the past. He might have married Pansy – and Harry still was curious about that. But if Harry had anything to say about it, both his own solitude and Malfoy's catting around were over. It was only a question of how long it would be before Malfoy would know that too.
"Happy Valentine's day," he whispered back.