hd365_mod (hd365_mod) wrote in hd_365, @ 2006-02-08 15:54:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
Entry tags: | annella-fic, prompt 3: song lyrics |
Last Dance
Original poster: annella
Um. I read yesterday's story approximately two seconds before I finished this one for posting, so please excuse the fact that this is based in a similar location and contradicts several things from yesterday's... *headdesk*
Title: Last Dance, for hd_365
Author: Elle (smutella)
Summary: Draco likes to go out dancing. Harry not so much. One night, Harry tags along for some fun...
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Public sex, possibly vague resemblance to various things from Queer as Folk. *grin*
Length: kinda longish. My computer is being anal so I can't open Semagic for a wordcount, and don't even MENTION microsoft word to me... >:(
A/N: un-beta'd, plus I wrote this on my PDA so there might still be errors. Please feel free to point them out to me.
***
Every so often, Draco got an itch that Harry couldn't scratch. Draco loved to dance, especially at those clubs with the thumpa-thump music and hot sweaty bodies swaying to the beat. Harry hated the clubs. He hated the music (it hurt his head), the flashing lights made his vision fuzzy, and the press of bodies made him feel claustrophobic.
So, every few weeks, Harry sat and watched Draco get ready, putting on his tight, revealing clothing, smearing a little glitter on his face and kissing Harry goodnight, always with the same instruction:
"Don't wait up."
The first few times, Harry waited up. Then one time, suspicion coiling in his belly, he followed Draco at a discreet distance, using his Invisibility Cloak. The club was pretty much what Harry expected - pulsing music, flashing lights, grinding bodies. Harry watched from a distance as Draco danced, his lithe body sinuously melding with the others in the crowd. He watched as strange men approached Draco, offering to buy him drinks, trying to dance with him, and occasionally, trying to cop a feel. The first time that happened, Harry saw red, and was about to go and drag the stranger away from his boyfriend, but Draco handled it himself with ease. Perfectly satisfied that dancing was all Draco got up to, Harry went home and was asleep when Draco came in an hour later.
***
This time was no different, except that it was a Wednesday.
"You sure you should go out tonight?" Harry asked as Draco pulled on one of his usual tight outfits. Draco shrugged.
"I haven't been for a while, and I had a stressful day at work. I need to cut loose." Draco turned from the mirror to look at Harry.
"Come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me," Draco repeated. "We don't have to stay long, just an hour or so. You don't even have to dance, you can stay at the bar and watch if you like. Please, Harry? I get tired of going out by myself." Draco was wearing his best puppy-dog eyes, and Harry relented.
"Okay," he sighed. "As long as you promise you won't force me to dance."
Draco's face lit up and he promptly dragged Harry to the closet to dress him up.
***
The club was how Harry remembered it - loud, thumpa-thumpa music, flashing strobe lights, and a tight press of sweaty bodies. Draco was hopping up and down, eager to get out on the dance floor, and Harry grinned. Leaning close to Draco's ear, he whispered, "Go on... go and have fun. But. Um... save the last dance for me, okay?" Draco's return smile seemed to light up the room, and Harry's grin widened as he pushed his boyfriend out into the press of bodies. Harry moved over to the bar and ordered a drink.
Almost an hour later, Harry had finished his third Cosmopolitan. He hadn't known what a Cosmopolitan was, just asked the bartender for 'something appropriate' - and he wasn't sure whether he should be offended or flattered at how incredibly gay the resulting drink looked. He had been watching Draco dance, admiring how graceful and lithe he looked on the dance floor. He smiled and chuckled to himself when men approached Draco for more than just a dance and Draco easily turned them down. Every so often Draco would glance over at the bar, as if he was checking Harry was still there, and toss a smile at him.
Putting his glass down on the bar and tossing a ten pound note at the barman, Harry pushed himself off the stool and, taking a deep breath, started making his way through the crowds of people filling the dance floor, Draco's blond head a beacon in the distance. It was sweaty, hot, and Harry felt slightly tainted, but when he reached his goal, none of that mattered anymore. Draco was looking in the other direction and hadn't seen him approach, but when Harry wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist and blew in his ear, Draco barely flinched.
"Finally," he said, turning in Harry's arms to face him. "I was starting to get tired. Time for the last dance, Harry?"
Harry had never been much of a dancer. He had never been able to understand how people could just relax and dance with no self-conciousness at all. Harry was quite honest with himself, and knew that compared to Draco, he looked like a lumbering, flailing ape whenever he tried to dance. Fortunately, the addition of three Cosmopolitans into his system had almost completely banished Harry's self-consciousness, and he was feeling almost relaxed. Draco's firm body pressed against him was also helping to dispell any nervousness, and he wrapped his arms around Draco and danced.
It was surprisingly easy, Harry noted with interest. You just had to hold tight to the person you were dancing with, and pretend you were having sex with them. Easy. Of course, having a slim, graceful blond rubbing his cock against your thigh helped. Harry was starting to feel incredibly aroused. Draco smelled wonderful, felt amazing in his arms, and when he started whispering filth into Harry's ear, Harry knew he was done for. He moaned softly and grabbed Draco's arse, thrusting his thigh between Draco's legs and frotting wildly against the leather of his trousers.
"Harry, stop," Draco gasped. "I don't want to come in my pants."
"Is there somewhere we can...?"
"There's probably a back room, come on." Draco pulled away, took Harry's hand, and dragged him towards the back of the club, where there was indeed a door to a back room. Couples entered and exited quite openly, and Harry's mouth dried up at the thought of fucking Draco in the back room of a Muggle club.
It was dark in the back room, the music muffled so all Harry could hear was a muted drumbeat. The only other sounds were the moans of people fucking, on the floor, against the wall, people sucking cocks, people coming. Harry had never really been one for public sex, but considering what had happened at the costume party last week, he really couldn't back out. Besides, he was incredibly horny, and Draco was holding him and kissing him and oh god unbuttoning his trousers. His erection sprang free, and Draco promptly backed Harry up against a wall, sank to his knees (after casting a quick and surreptitious Cleansing Charm at the floor) and swallowed Harry whole.
It was surreal. Here he was, back to the wall, having his cock sucked, surrounded by men doing their own fucking and sucking. Harry's eyes fixed on a couple against the opposite wall - a smaller man had his back to the wall, his legs being held up by another, larger man, who was thrusting into him with abandon. Not a metre away from Harry was someone else getting their cock sucked. The stranger met Harry's eye and they grinned briefly at each other. Draco's mouth on Harry's cock was as hot and wet and bloody fantastic as always, and the setting made it even more intense. A hand started stroking Harry's balls, rolling them around, gently squeezing and caressing, and Harry felt a jolt go up his spine when a slick finger - when had Draco managed to cast a lubrication charm? - slid between his arse cheeks and penetrated him deeply.
It was too much, too soon. Harry groaned loudly and pulled Draco to his feet, tearing his trousers open to get at his cock. He didn't care that they were in the back room of some filthy club, all he cared about was getting his cock up Draco's arse. He yanked Draco's tight trousers to the floor, pausing briefly to admire the lack of underwear, and shoved him face-first against the wall. Draco gasped and grabbed his cock, sliding his lubricated hand over it firmly as Harry pushed his legs apart as far as they would go and mumbled a lubrication charm of his own. Draco shook his head when Harry started to prepare him.
"No fingers, just... just fuck me, okay?"
"You sure?"
"I wouldn't be saying this if I wasn't, so... fuck, Harry..."
It was enough. Harry slid one hand over Draco's, on the wall, and grabbed his cock with the other, positioning himself against Draco's hole. With one slow, long thrust, he pushed himself inside his boyfriend, gasping at the incredibly tight, wet heat. He shared another grin with the man next to him getting a blowjob, and started fucking Draco in earnest. Wrapping his free hand around the one Draco had on his cock, he tugged Draco's cock hard, in time with his thrusts, and it took almost no time at all for him to come hard inside Draco, his head falling forward and his breath coming in gasps against Draco's neck.
Draco groaned when Harry abruptly pulled out, but the groan turned to a gasp of pleasure when Harry yanked him around, fell to his knees, and sucked his cock down to the root. Coupled with three fingers up his arse, it was mere moments before Draco was keening loudly and shooting down Harry's throat. The taste of semen was odd on top of the alcohol, but Harry just licked his lips and looked up through his fringe at Draco, leaning sated against the wall. Harry tucked Draco's cock back into his trousers and buttoned him up before doing the same to himself, then took Draco's hand and led him out of the club.
Perhaps dancing wasn't so bad after all.
The Drifters: Save The Last Dance For Me