It Takes ThreeAuthor: sdkCharacters/Pairings:
Draco/Teddy/Harry, Draco/Harry, Harry/Teddy (established Draco/Teddy)Rating:
Everything Old is New: Jealousy, UST (Draco/Harry), Group Sex, OrgasmsOther Warnings:
Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Threesome, Intoxication (alcohol)Word Count:
Draco's never one to miss an opportunity, especially when they come twice in one night.Author's Notes:
This is a sequel to and takes place roughly an hour or so after In Three
, and will probably make more sense if you've read that first. For torino10154
as a late Christmas present. (We'll pretend I didn't promise you this for your bday last year...) Thanks so much to train_tracks
for the beta! <3
Draco waits until they've all had too much to drink and the small sitting room feels stifling. Harry's loosened his collar, the top two buttons undone; a light rosy pink flushes his cheeks. It could be from too much alcohol, but it's more likely due to all the times Draco's caught him staring at Teddy, like he wants to devour him whole. The stirrings of jealousy swirl low in Draco's belly, but they only enhance his arousal. The anticipation of what's to come is almost too delicious to bear, especially when he's the only one privy to it. As long as things go according to plan.
Draco's confident they will.
He sends Teddy back to the kitchen to hunt for some firewhiskey; the port's nearly gone. Harry protests—he's had too much to drink already, he claims—but he makes no move to get up off the sofa. Conversation halts now that Teddy isn't around to be a buffer, and Harry sinks further back into the cushions, knees spreading slightly. His gaze slides over to Draco, then back to his drink, and he brings the glass to lips and takes a small swallow.
"I'm fucking your godson," Draco says.
Harry splutters, port dribbling down his chin. He wipes his mouth and Draco licks his lips.
Draco casually shrugs, crossing his legs. "Thought you ought to know."
"I knew," Harry replies quietly. "Doesn't take that long to find a bottle of port." His fingers tighten around his glass and something about that bruising grip makes Draco's knees weak. Draco shifts in his chair.
"Mmm. No. Just takes that long to suck Teddy's cock."
Harry's cheeks go blazing hot at that; Draco stifles a smirk. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"
The innocent routine doesn't fool Draco for a second, but delights him all the same. Harry's eyes are round and large behind his glasses. He pulls at his collar, nearly dropping his glass. Draco slides over to the sofa, inserting himself into the small space between the arm and Harry's thigh, and catches Harry's drink, then sets it on the side table.
"I'm rather handy with privacy charms," Draco murmurs. Hands now free, he reaches to toy with Harry's collar, loosening it further until he glimpses a smattering of black hair. Harry trembles, nearly imperceptibly, beneath Draco's touch. "But I knew you wanted to listen."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry's voice catches as Draco undoes another button of his shirt, then another, and another, taking his time to brush his fingertips along Harry's skin. Harry's hands flutter as if he means to stop Draco, but they never make it past the top of his thighs. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly and a jolt of arousal shoots through Draco. He wants to suck on Harry's neck until it's peppered in red marks, but Draco tells himself to be patient. It wouldn't do to lose control now, though if anyone were to be the cause of it...
Putting his mouth to more productive use, Draco leans over until his lips brush the shell of Harry's ear.
"Teddy has an amazing cock. Long and just thick enough to gag on."
Harry groans. His thighs widen and his jeans do a poor job of hiding his interest. Draco's fingers dance down, kissing his bare stomach. Just a bit further and he'll be able to feel just how hard Harry is.
"But his mouth—no one sucks cock like your precious godson." Draco fiddles with the button of Harry's jeans. It takes all his willpower not to rip them open, stuff his hand inside and feel Harry throb. "He can take it all in one swallow. And his tongue..."
Draco scraps his teeth on Harry's lobe, and he can't help himself. He allows one squeeze of Harry's cock over denim before retreating to the safety of Harry's stomach once more. Harry's hands clench on his thighs. His breaths grow shallow.
"You've thought about it, haven't you?"
"I—no, Christ," Harry rasps. Draco frees the top button of Harry's jeans, running his thumb over the bare skin just above Harry's waistband.
"You're a terrible liar."
Teddy's voice jolts Harry free from the hazy fog of desire. He stands at the kitchen doorway, a bottle of firewhisky in one hand, his other playing with the hem of his thin t-shirt. His eyes go round, flitting back and forth between Draco and Draco's fingers, now sliding Harry's zipper down. Fuck.
"It's not what it looks like," Harry says desperately. He should shove Draco away, he should button up his shirt, he should get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.
He should absolutely not be spreading his thighs and leaning back into the sofa; his cock should not be throbbing with need.
It should not
Draco laughs, not unkindly, and slips his hand beneath the waistband of Harry's pants. "It's exactly what it looks like. Strip. Potter wants you to suck his cock."
The protest dies in Harry's throat when Teddy wordlessly obeys. He sets the firewhisky down and pulls off his shirt. His trousers and pants follow next, and Harry soaks up every inch of his newly-exposed skin with his gaze. He can't bear to look away. Harry doesn't even notice Draco's shoved down his pants and pulled out his cock until Draco's fist wraps around the base.
Teddy saunters over, eyes dark, something dangerous lurking beneath that steals Harry's breath away. He sinks to his knees between Harry's two, his mouth poised and ready.
"Teddy—you don't have to-"
"Relax, Potter," Draco says. "Teddy's gagging for it almost as much as you are."
Teddy looks at Draco, as if waiting for permission, lips parted, a heavy sheen of desire in his eyes.
"Go on." Draco wiggles Harry's cock, and it's a bit mortifying how little Harry is embarrassed, but the head brushes Teddy's lips and his need multiples ten-fold. He'll have time to berate himself over what a shitty godfather he is later. Much later.
And then Draco lets go and Harry's engulfed in the pure heat of Teddy's wet mouth, lips sealed tight around the base of his cock. Harry bucks automatically—he can't help himself—and saliva drips down over his ball sac. He whimpers, thighs parted as wide as his loosened jeans will allow, and Teddy smiles around his dick, eyes bright and dancing.
"Do you want him to stop?" Draco's whisper caresses Harry's skin. He brushes his thumb over the corner of Teddy's stretched mouth as Teddy's tongue slithers along the underside of Harry's shaft.
Harry clenches his hands, breath rough and ragged. He knows he should say yes. But it's a fucking joke that no one would believe, not even himself.
He whispers, "No."
"I thought not."
Harry catches Draco smile out of the corner of his eye before Draco stands and peels off his jumper. He bends over, whispers something in Teddy's ear, and Teddy's eyes scrunch up tight; suddenly the suction around his cock is almost too much to take, but it's gone almost as quickly as it began. Teddy pulls off, a hint of an apology in the line of his wet lips.
"I'm ready," he says to Draco, but his eyes never leave Harry's. Then his mouth slides down, achingly slow, punctuated by small flicks of his tongue, and Harry forgets to ask, "For what?"
It's awfully hard to concentrate on sucking off his godfather when Teddy hears the rustle of cotton and his brain helpfully supplies the image of Draco behind him: rolling up the sleeves of his crisp button up, the lean muscle of his forearm flexing as he unlatches his belt buckle, frees it from the loops, and drops it to the floor beside Teddy's knees with a thump. But Harry doesn't seem to notice Teddy's momentary lapse. He pants; his fingers tangle in Teddy's hair and brush over his face; he groans like a man come undone.
Because of him.
Because of Teddy
The power of it is intoxicating and frightens Teddy deep at his core, so he focuses on the way Harry's thighs clench beneath his palms, the dig of Harry's zipper on his chin with each bob of his head, the velvet soft smoothness of Harry's shaft, the salty sweet tang of his pre-come smearing against his lips when he pulls out.
Draco drops to his knees behind Teddy, hands gripping his hips to position him just so, and Teddy pauses with his mouth full, anticipation whirling like butterflies in his stomach. Teddy's made sure he's stretched, just enough so he'll feel the burn—one of the handier uses of his abilities—and he's wet for Draco. He's ready.
But still, when Draco breaches him, fast and hard and Harry's cock hits the back of his throat at the same time, Teddy lets out a muffled cry in surprise. Eyes watering, he gasps and gasps around Harry's shaft until Draco's hand smooths along his flank, until Harry's palm warms his neck.
"All right there, Teddy?" Harry's expression can't contain his desire, but his eyes soften; his mouth pulls to a worried line.
Arousal burns through Teddy's body like Fiendfyre. He hollows his cheeks and pushes back against Draco's stilled hips, pleading the only way he knows how. Harry's eyes go dark, Draco snaps his hips, and Teddy hangs onto Harry's knees and lets go.
Harry's orgasm strikes unexpectedly quick like a bolt of lightening; he doesn't have time to warn Teddy before he's crying out—toes curled, thighs quivering—and shooting down the back of Teddy's throat. Teddy's jaw falls open in surprise, come dribbling out of the corner of his mouth, but he quickly begins to suck again, softly, gently, tongue curling around Harry's cock to coax free every last drop.
When Harry tugs at Teddy's hair, his cock far too sensitive to take even the lightest touch, Teddy licks his lips clean, face contorted with the pleasure Draco takes from his body.
"Teddy," Harry murmurs, breath scant, heart still thudding hard and fast. He cups Teddy's face, brushes his thumb over Teddy's damp lips, but his eyes meet Draco's hungry gaze and his chest twists up tight.
"Everything you dreamed, Potter?" Draco's hips slow and Teddy's needy whine makes Harry shiver. Draco pulls Teddy up, chest flush to Teddy's back, never breaking his leisured rhythm. His palm slides over Teddy's trembling stomach and down along his hip bone to the front of his thigh, drawing Harry's gaze to Teddy's flushed, bouncing cock.
Harry's mouth goes dry. "Yes."
"Then I'd say Teddy deserves to come, don't you think?"
Harry's eyes snap to that hint of a challenge in the curl of Draco's lips. He falls to his knees in the small space between Teddy and the edge of the couch, Teddy's cock fitting into the palm of his hand as if it were made to go there.
"Oh please," Teddy whimpers, forehead pressed to Harry's shoulder, hands coming to grip Harry's biceps, fingers digging into Harry's skin. Harry tightens his fist and pulls.
Teddy's cock is like heated silk, and is slick and slippery with sweat and the pre-come that dribbles out from the slit. Harry loses himself, soaking up the feel of him, his other hand coasting over Teddy's clenched arm, his side, along the narrow curve of his hip. His fingers skim over the impossibly soft skin of Draco's thigh as Draco's rhythm speeds up, and Draco's eyes narrow with the touch.
Harry does it again. And again. Then he squeezes Teddy's buttocks to slip his fingers between them, so close to the point where they're joined together. Teddy shakes within his hold; he's a quivering mess, so it isn't a surprise when Harry feels the first splash of come over his knuckles and his bare stomach. Draco's mouth parts, the muscles in his neck tighten and Harry can only imagine what he's feeling—Teddy spasming around him, hot and wet and tight like a vice. Harry wants to be hard again, he wants to shove inside Teddy and feel Draco sliding against him in that warm, snug space.
A tiny moan escapes Draco's mouth like it's been pulled directly from his core against his will. His hips slam one more time, trapping Harry's hand between them. Harry knows Draco is coming, and he stares unabashedly at the line of Draco's neck, his head thrown back, his eyes two thin slits hiding so much darkness and heat. And Harry wants. He wants
like he can't ever remember before.
Teddy goes slack, falling against Harry's chest with quaking breaths, his hair pulsing magenta in time with Draco's slowing heartbeat. Draco leans back on his heels, slipping free from Teddy with a quiet squish. He watches his come dribble out of Teddy's loosened wet hole, and his fingers itch to slide back inside—steal more of Teddy's heat.
Normally he would; he'd curl around Teddy's back and finger him lazily until Teddy grew hard again and begged for more, for anything.
But Harry is here, holding Teddy, stroking his palm down the curve of Teddy's spine, lips brushing over Teddy's temple, looking at Draco with something akin to guilt and need. Draco tears his gaze away.
He stands to right his pants and do up his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Harry asks. Draco strides to the couch and grabs his forgotten jumper. He absolutely does not sneak a peek at Teddy in the circle of Harry's arms, confusion coloring his grey eyes.
"Draco?" Teddy's quiet voice follows. Draco grips his jumper but can't seem to make himself pull it on.
"It's late, I should go."
"I should, too." Harry's voice is gravely. Out of the corner of Draco's eye, he watches Harry gently extract himself from Teddy's embrace and hoist himself onto the couch. Teddy kneels between them, glancing back and forth before he rises to his feet in one fluid motion and plants both hands on his hips.
"Oh for fuck's sake. You two aren't going anywhere."
Draco raises an eyebrow, but his lips twitch despite himself when Harry murmurs. "Teddy, language."
Teddy shoots a glare at Harry, then grabs his hand, yanking him up from the sofa.
"I should clarify. The only place you two are going is to my bed."
Harry smiles fondly, and Draco's surprised to find it's directed at him—not Teddy.
"He's quite stubborn, when he puts his mind to it," Harry says.
Draco snorts. "Picked up from you, no doubt."
Harry rolls his eyes, but when he holds his hand out to Draco, a strange unexpected warmth unfurls in Draco's stomach.
It wasn't part of Draco's plan, but as Teddy tugs the jumper free from his grip and Draco slides his hand into Harry's warm waiting palm, he decides this might be even better.