|yule_balls_mod (yule_balls_mod) wrote in hp_yule_balls,|
@ 2008-12-14 23:28:00
|Entry tags:||2008, character: draco malfoy, character: harry potter, fic, pairing: harry/draco|
Fic: A Chance Encounter (Harry/Draco, NC-17) for accioscar
Title: A Chance Encounter
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Lucius/Draco **Spoiler alert: Please do not highlight the second pairing unless really necessary. Contains spoilers.**
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Summary: Draco follows Harry into a bar.
Warnings: Incest, rimming, dub con, semi-public sex **Spoiler alert: Please do not highlight the warning unless really necessary. Contains spoilers.**
Word Count: 2617
Author's Notes: I hope you liked it accioscar! I tried my best to include as many of your likes as I could. Thank you to B for the beta!
Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter. He hated everything about him from the hair that refused to stay flat to the way he fidgeted when he was nervous. Draco itched to slap that woebegone saviour look off Potter’s face. The Dark Lord was dead already. There was no more reason for that look in Potter’s eyes.
If Draco was more circumspect, he would have said that the expression was a sign of Potter’s impending breakdown. As it was, he was just furious with Potter for still having that haunted expression.
The wizarding world wanted to move on and Draco wanted to move on with them. He had been issued a pardon by the Ministry. The remaining Death Eaters had been rounded up and placed in Azkaban. The war was over and really, Potter should have moved on. Wasn’t he dating that Weasley girl? Draco thought it was about bloody time Potter got some action.
Diagon Alley was filled with irrepressible cheer. Everywhere Draco looked, he could see people laughing and smiling. Their expressions faltered slightly as he neared, but he just strode on. They had no reason to be scared of him. The Ministry, after long deliberations, had decided he deserved a full pardon.
Despite questionable actions, we have received information from an impeccable source regarding your intentions, Mr Malfoy.
Draco had decided that one of the golden Trio probably put in a good word for him. Perhaps even Potter himself. He wasn’t sure why, but he was damned if he was going to be grateful for their charity. Especially since this charity didn’t extend to them allowing him to keep his wand. He did have a few spares at home, but his father had forbade him from using them. He was essentially defenceless here. Not that he expected to be attacked out in the open like this, but it was always possible.
He was only here because his father had asked him to bring him some essential potions ingredients. All owls had been banned from Malfoy Manor and his parents were under house arrest. Draco was their only link to the outside world.
"Draco, darling," his mother had said a few days ago. "Could you get me some of those chocolates from Hogsmeade?"
Draco sighed. Sometimes he felt as though his parents were working him like a house elf. Especially since they had no real house elves left.
He was about to enter the dark depths of the Apothecary when he spotted a flash of messy black hair out of the corner of his eye. Draco stopped at the door and turned his head just in time to see Potter hurriedly lift up the hood of his cloak. The wind had blown it down and ruffled his hair. Potter took one look over his shoulder and then entered a dark and dingy pub next to the Leaky Cauldron. He frowned. He could have sworn that The Daily Prophet had announced that Potter was at some Grand Gala Opening.
He paused with his hand at the door, thinking, when somebody coughed behind him. "You going in or just standing there?" the man said his voice a low growl. "You’ve been standing there for a minute now."
Draco made up his mind. He stepped away from the door. The man grumbled as he pushed roughly past him and entered the Apothecary. Draco turned around and strode towards the pub.
It took a few seconds for Draco’s eyes to adjust to the dimly lit pub. He recalled being here a few times before, mostly to listen to his father as he did business with his associates. He wondered what Potter was doing here.
Looking around the pub, he realised that there were no other patrons. The bartender grunted at him and Draco shook his head. With a glare, the bartender disappeared into another room. Draco frowned. He couldn’t see Potter anywhere. He started walking around and then suddenly spotted him. Potter was alone, tucked away in a booth, where, even if there had been other people, nobody could see him. And he was clutching a scotch.
Draco raised an eyebrow as he made his way over to where Potter was sitting. He really didn’t think that this was Potter’s scene at all. Now what was Potter trying to hide by being here? There was no doubt in Draco’s mind that Potter must be trying to hide something. There would be no other reason for the saviour of the wizarding world to be hiding in a dark, dirty, little pub like this.
"So," Draco drawled as he stopped in front of Potter, "hiding from your many admirers, are we?"
Potter looked startled. His green eyes betrayed a look of fear that was quickly masked by annoyance. "I don’t have to explain myself to you, Malfoy," he snapped.
Draco examined the seat of the booth with a critical eye and decided it was safe to sit down. It didn’t look like it contained any fleas and looked reasonably clean. "I thought you were at some publicity event today."
Potter glared at him. "Stalking is illegal, Malfoy."
"You haven’t answered my question," Draco remarked as he idly took in how Potter was dressed. Funnily enough, Potter seemed to be dressed better than the last time he’d seen him on the cover of the Prophet. Upon closer examination, the hair seemed neater as well.
"What are you doing here?" Potter countered.
Draco smirked. "I came in here for a drink," he said. "And who did I see when I entered but Harry Potter sitting here all alone. What happened? Did the latest in your long string of girlfriends dump you?"
Potter shrugged. "That’s none of your business."
Draco decided that Potter was really bad at avoiding questions. How he ever managed to escape the Dark Lord’s clutches, Merlin only knew. He scrutinised the glass in front of Potter.
"It’s scotch," Potter said snippily.
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I know that. I do have education. I’ve been drinking scotch ever since I was a child."
Potter’s eyes glittered. "I suppose," he said slowly, "that the great Lucius Malfoy taught you."
"As a matter of fact, he did." Draco couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. He leaned forward and caught a whiff of Potter’s breath. Just how much had Potter been drinking before he’d come in here? He couldn’t help but flinch slightly when Potter slammed his glass down.
"I’ll be going now," Potter said tightly as he stood up. Draco watched as he stumbled slightly and instinctively, he reached out an arm to stop Potter from falling over. He shivered as something passed between them. Potter jerked his arm away and ended up face first across Draco’s lap.
Potter was squirming slightly on top of him as he tried to push himself up. Draco felt his breath catch as he felt himself react to Potter. He was shocked at his reaction and felt his face turn red. He was glad that Potter was still struggling to get himself up and couldn’t see him.
Finally, Potter managed to push himself up. He stood up awkwardly and just stood there staring at Draco.
Draco looked up, met Potter’s eyes and was amazed at the almost animal, hungry look in the other man’s eyes. Potter’s eyes flickered downwards towards Draco’s crotch. "So," Potter said.
Draco tried to slide out of the booth, but Potter blocked his way. He could hear Potter’s breath coming as quick, shallow gasps. "Going so soon?" Potter said. "You followed me here, didn’t you?" He pushed Draco back into the booth and sat down next to him. Draco ended pressed up sideways against the wall, his shoulder digging into the wood, Potter’s hands over his wrists, with Potter staring at him.
"I didn’t," Draco protested. "I… just came in for a drink." He was slightly scared now by how strong Potter was.
"You’re lying," Potter said softly. "I like it."
Just how fucked up was this guy, Draco thought. He made another effort to get up again but then all his thoughts skidded to a complete stop as Potter leaned in and pressed a warm kiss on his neck.
"Fuck, Merlin, fuck," Draco gasped. He turned his head slightly and was face to face with Potter. He noticed how Potter’s eyes seemed so much darker, almost black now. "This is … wrong."
"Oh yes," Potter muttered into the skin of his neck, sending shivers down Draco’s back. "You don’t know how wrong."
Draco briefly wondered at the intention of those words, when Potter grabbed the back of his robes. He heard his robes tear roughly as Potter’s fingers raked down his back.
"Enjoying this, aren’t you?"
Draco couldn’t bring himself to reply.
They were tucked away in a dark corner and nobody else came into the pub. Out of the corner of his eye, as Potter was kissing his way down his arm, Draco noticed the bartender still hadn't come back. Obviously they were being rather quiet, or this was the kind of place where things like this went on all the time. He did remember certain unsavoury noises coming from other booths the last time he was here with his father. It sent a thrill of both excitement and fear down his back to think that they could be caught at any point.
Potter’s tongue circled his Dark Mark and a shiver went down Draco's back.
Potter’s eyes were even darker, almost black, as they looked up at him. "You like that, don’t you?" Before Draco can respond, Potter’s head moved lower and rough hands pushed his robes out of the way.
"No underwear?" Potter sounded almost amused.
"We never wear underwear under our robes," Draco managed to get out.
"Oh yes," Potter said. "The pureblood tradition."
Potter’s mouth felt so hot, so dirty and so good around his cock. Draco couldn’t help letting out a loud moan. "Oh fuck, Potter," he gasped.
Potter pushed himself up and looked at him. Draco was almost disappointed. "Changed your mind?" he asked.
"Not likely," Potter said, his words more sure than his tone.
Draco smirked. "Haven’t you ever done this before?"
"Of course I have!" Potter snapped, sounding highly insulted. "It’s just…" He hesitated.
Draco shook his head and scooted slightly backwards so that he was leaning against the wall of the booth. He lifted his legs up and braced them, and slid forward slightly, not caring that he was giving Potter an eyeful. Potter stared at him. "A better position," he explained.
Potter raised an eyebrow and without another word, his head lowered again. Draco's robes were shoved roughly out of the way and Potter's head bent awkwardly. His hands came up to push Draco's legs further up and apart. Draco bit his lip to stop himself from screaming when Potter’s tongue circled once, twice and then the tip of his tongue was pushed inside and it was all Draco could do to stop himself from thrusting forward wantonly.
He heard Potter sit up slightly, mutter a spell and then a slick dripping finger replaced the tongue and Draco forgot to breathe. He didn’t know how loud he was being, and he didn’t care. Let the bartender complain, he thought as another finger was inserted. His hair fell into his eyes and he blew at it impatiently. Potter’s mouth was busy licking and sucking on his side of his neck while his fingers were still sliding in and out slowly.
"I…" Draco managed to get out but somehow Potter seemed to get what he meant. The fingers withdrew and he could feel Potter squirming above him. The position was awkward; Draco felt something digging into his back as he slid further down the wall, thrusting his hips up.
He felt Potter fumble slightly with his own robes. He realised with some amusement that Potter didn’t seem to have any underwear on either. "Wait," he said as he felt Potter nudge slightly against him. The angle, it was all wrong.
Draco pushed Potter off him and managed, somehow, in the small space of the booth to turn himself over, so that he was now facing the wall. He braced himself up against the wall with his hands, and knelt with his knees open, leaning forward. "That’s better," he said as he felt Potter’s cock nudge him from behind. Potter seemed unsure, his breath coming in short gasps on Draco’s neck so Draco slowly pushed himself backwards. It fucking hurt as he pushed; it felt like he was on fire and that it was going to tear apart at any minute, but at the same time it was a good hurt and as he rocked backwards, past the head of Potter’s erection, the pain lessened.
As he felt Potter thrust, first hesitantly, then more quickly into him, Draco clutched at the wall, the seats and anything he could grip. The wall in front of him was slippery with sweat. Potter’s hand had somehow made its way to his cock and was now pumping it with almost deliberate slowness.
"Oh fuck. That's good!" Draco said, panting.
To him, there was nothing except the feeling of Potter’s hand around his cock and the feeling of Potter’s erection as it hit his prostate and the heat of Potter’s breath against the back of his neck. Draco felt so dirty. They were in a bar, albeit a bar of ill repute, but still a bar and anyone could walk in and see that he was being fucked by Harry Potter and it was so wrong but it felt so right.
He could feel that Potter was about to come, which heightened his own arousal and then, a few quick strokes later, Draco Malfoy found himself spurting all over the dirty, slightly ragged seat.
Draco watched as Potter cleaned himself up the best he could. "Don’t you dare mention this," Potter warned.
"Wouldn’t dream of it," Draco drawled. He looked down, still a bit muzzy from the sex, at the state of his robes. "Would you?"
Potter frowned slightly but drew out his wand. "Reparo!"
Draco stared at the wand. He could have sworn Potter had a different one in school. He was about to say something when Potter put his cloak on, drew the hood up around his face. "Well," Potter said awkwardly. "I’ll be going now."
Draco watched as Potter left.
As he got home, Draco braced himself against recriminations from his father for forgetting the potions ingredients. He didn’t want to go into the Apothecary smelling of sex and Potter.
After a shower and a change of robes, Draco wandered downstairs and found his mother lying on the lounge reading The Daily Prophet.
"Where’s father?" Draco asked.
His mother put down the newspaper. "I haven’t seen him all day, darling."
Draco frowned. There really weren’t that many places his father could be. Malfoy Manor wasn’t that big. He looked down at the newspaper and froze.
There, huge on the front page, was the headline:
Harry Potter – this morning – at Grand Gala Opening of Wizarding Pre-School.
There was a photo there of Potter with his arm around a child, smiling happily. He could see a few of the Weasleys in the background.
"You know," his mother continued, oblivious to Draco's distress. "Lucius seems a bit happier recently. He hasn't been pacing around the manor as much. He does tend to disappear though."
Draco felt his heart sink.
"Draco," a silky voice said behind him and Draco spun around.
His father was standing there, with a familiar smirk on his face. "Enjoyed yourself at Diagon Alley today?" Lucius asked.