Title: Coitus Interruptus

Pairing: H/D

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: Errr, smex. And unintentional voyeurism.

Summary: Some revelations should be made with quiet dignity. And sometimes, things get taken right out of your hands.

Author's notes: Written for slythindor100's prompt 105, the attached lovely photo. Much love to Sassy_cissa, for sending me the wonderful porn that prompted this bit of silliness.

COITUS INTERRUPTUS

Draco had just come with a loud cry, neck arched, tendons standing out down each side of his throat and muscles of his chest and abdomen clenched in stark relief. His face and neck were flushed red with exertion, and he'd shot onto his stomach and his chest. There were even drops of pearly come on his neck, and when he collapsed bonelessy onto the dark duvet, Harry pulled out carefully, leaning over to pick up a hand towel from the floor, wiping down the pale stomach and chest, stroking it over Draco's neck as he leaned in and took the swollen pink lips in a soft kiss.

"Merlin's balls," Draco muttered when Harry pulled back, cautiously wiping a cock that he knew was still sensitive. Draco lifted his hands to his face, rubbing his fingers over his eyes then catching the sweat on his forehead and pushing it up into his hair. "That was amazing," he breathed, eyes finding Harry's, lips curling lazily into a slight smile.

"Good," Harry replied, tossing the hand towel aside. Without another word, he caught Draco by his hips and flipped him, still limp, onto his stomach. Pushing Draco's legs together, he straddled his thighs, pressing forward, his still hard cock sliding unerringly back inside Draco's clinging heat. He saw the muscles across the pale shoulders stiffen, saw the long fingers clench in the comforter. He saw the grimace that passed fleetingly over the slightly pointed profile before Draco closed his eyes, smoothing his features.

Harry thought that his re-entry had probably stung; they'd been at this for a while, and he figured Draco was no doubt a bit sore, but Harry was much too close to the edge to care. He'd withheld his own orgasm through two of Draco's; now he thought that if he didn't come soon, he might just explode. Propping his hands next to Draco's shoulders, Harry leaned forward and began to move into the man beneath him hard. He saw Draco's knuckles whiten, but he also felt the muscle around him tighten, felt the perfect arse arch and saw the slight smile that pulled at the corner of Draco's mouth.

"Merlin," Draco murmured. "You feel so good."

"Gods, so do you," Harry ground out, feeling his balls beginning to draw up tight against his body, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

"Oh, yes," Draco moaned, lifting his head and looking over his shoulder. "Harder!"

Harry complied. His skin was slapping into the pale flesh of Draco's arse, the bed was rocking side to side, and he could hear himself grunting with each thrust.

"That's it," Draco said, pushing up into each downward motion of Harry's hips. "You're close, aren't you?"

Harry growled his answer, his fingers clenching in the bedding.

"Then come inside me," Draco encouraged, turning his head again and finding Harry's eyes, arching his spine and rocking back.

"Ah, gods!" Harry gasped, teeth clenching as the pressure built. He blindly reached forward with one hand and gripped Draco's shoulder, pulling him back into each forceful drive. He watched the blond fringe bouncing on Draco's forehead, saw the tendons in his arms stand out as he gripped the bedding.

"Come on, Harry," Draco groaned. "Come inside me."

"Pushy… fucking… git," Harry ground out with each brutal thrust, but Draco's eyes rolled up and his mouth fell open, and the transported look on his face pushed Harry over the edge. He clenched his teeth and pounded into Draco hard, skin slapping, bed springs singing as his orgasm streaked the length of his spine and burst from him in a hot, brilliant torrent.

He was still coming, his body jerking when several things happened at once.

The bedroom door swung open and bounced noisily against the wall, making Draco jerk and turn his head. Harry heard it, too, and over the deafening rush in his ears, he also heard Draco curse colorfully and a woman screech in surprise. His own head jerked around, and if he weren't already in the middle of an explosive orgasm, it would have been like being doused with ice water. For standing in the doorway were not just Ron and Hermione, looking as if they'd been frozen in place, mouths open and eyes wide, but right behind them were Ginny and Molly Weasley, faces stiffened masks of identical horror.

"Bloody hell," Ron gasped.

"Oh, my," Hermione breathed weakly.

"Son of a bitch!" Harry snarled, jerking his head towards the door. It slammed in their startled faces, rattling on its hinges.

"Hey," he heard Ron protest through the wood, Hermione's scolding response, and then footsteps hurrying away from the door.

Harry shuddered and collapsed on Draco's back, forcing him down onto the bed, his face in the damp blond hair at his nape. "Goddamn it," he groaned.

Draco didn't say anything, and after a moment, Harry rolled to his back beside him, his eyes closed, his forearm across his face. Silence, heavy and uncomfortable, settled around them. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.

"I don't suppose," he said softly, "that they'll just go the hell away?"

As if in response, there was a timid knock on the bedroom door.

"Apparently not," Draco said, his voice muffled by the duvet.

"Harry?" It was Hermione, and her voice sounded tentative. "Uhm, would you like for us to go… or… what?"

Harry exhaled heavily through his mouth. "I'll be out in a minute," he said finally, his voice a low growl. They heard her footsteps retreat again.

Harry rolled his head to look at Draco just as Draco lifted his from the bedspread. They looked into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry."

They'd spoken at the same time, voices overlapping. Harry frowned.

"What are you sorry for?"

He saw color that had nothing to do with their recent exertion spread across Draco's high cheekbones. "I can't imagine that this is how you wanted your best friends to find out you shag men. Especially considering it was ime/i you were shagging."

"They knew." He paused, and grimaced. "Well, Molly didn't, but the rest of them did."

"But they didn't know about me." It wasn't a question. Harry knew he was coloring when he felt his face heat anew. Draco closed his eyes and sighed.

Harry reached for him, his much darker hand spreading on a damp, pale back. "But I don't care that they do," he assured Draco softly. "They don't get a vote, and they can just learn to deal with it. I wanted you; I still want you."

Draco eyes opened and he frowned. "Then what were you apologizing for?"

"The fact that you were face down with my cock up your arse when four of your least favorite people on earth opened the door," he said, as if saying 'what else?'

Draco's stared for a moment, and then pink lips began to quirk. "Well, I've never been one who fantasized about being caught out by a parental figure. But…" his grin widened. "'Horrified' sort of goes with Granger's hair, and the look on the Weasel's face might just have made my year." He lifted up onto his elbows, smirking in amusement. "Makes me think that 'swallowing one's tongue' might be an actual biological possibility. He may need his memory modified just so he can sleep nights." His face hardened. "And I've no problem with the Weaslette seeing what she let slip away, as long as she knows it's gone."

Harry's mouth quirked. "She knows," he said. "She's known longer than anyone. And if I know Ginny, she was probably enjoying the view."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Of your arse."

"On top of your arse," Harry retorted. "Let's not lose sight of the big picture, here."

"Right." Draco pushed himself up and leaned over the side of the bed, picking up his abandoned denim's. "I should go." He stood up, stepping into them. He grimaced. "I'm sticky, but it can wait until I get home. I'll just Apparate…"

Harry sat up, his brow furrowed. "We have plans for tonight." They'd been going to go to dinner and pick up a Muggle film to watch on Harry's telly before they'd gotten distracted. Draco paused as he buttoned his jeans.

"But, I thought you'd want…" He gestured towards the bedroom door.

"You thought I'd want to what?"

"Talk to them without me around," Draco finished. Harry shook his head, standing and searching for a moment before retrieving his own jeans from behind the night stand.

"I'm done hiding this," Harry said, stepping into his trousers and pulling them up over his slim hips, buttoning and zipping them closed. He propped his hands on his waist. "I'd planned to tell them, anyway."

Draco smirked as he yanked his white polo shirt on over his head. "You're going to tell them you've been dating me for six weeks? That ought to be a fun conversation."

"Well, I think that cat's out of the bag now, don't you?" Harry asked ironically.

Draco ran his hand through his hair. "All that proved is that we're fucking," he said flatly. "Not that…" He paused, making a show of tucking in his shirt. Harry made no move to pull on his t-shirt; he stood and watched Draco instead, saw the flush that spread over his face, saw his sudden intense discomfort. He walked to him and caught one wrist, stilling his movements. Draco looked into his eyes tentatively.

"Is that all it is to you?" Harry asked gently. "Fucking?"

He saw Draco swallow. "Is that all it is to you?"

Harry's lips pulled up at the corners. "I asked first," he murmured. "But in answer to the question; no, it isn't just the sex, not to me."

Draco bit his lower lip for a moment. "As completely irrational as I find it," he finally said. "And not that I'm knocking the sex, mind you" his slight grin was wry, "it isn't just that to me, either."

Harry let his hand slide down until his and Draco's were palm to palm, and he linked their fingers. "So, don't leave. I'll go talk to them, and then we'll go on with our plans."

"And what?" Draco said, one brow arching. "I should hide here in the bedroom until you're finished?"

"So, you plan to go out there with me, then?"

Draco lifted his chin as his hand tightened around Harry's. "I thought that's what you did, when it wasn't just the sex," he said, grey eyes level.

Harry studied his face for a moment. "So, it is." He lifted his other hand, cupping Draco's cheek in his palm, and leaned in and kissed him. It was not a long kiss, but it was thorough. When he leaned back, he was smiling. "All right then, shall we do this?"

"Right behind you, Captain." He gave a jaunty salute, which made Harry chuckle. "Besides, I want to make sure that little Miss Ginevra really understands what's what."

Harry shook his head. "She's moved on, Draco. Last I heard she was back with Dean."

"Still," Draco said. "If you're mine, then you're mine, Potter. And I want them to understand that."

Something warm stirred in Harry's chest. "So territorial," he mused, but the thought pleased him.

"Too bloody right," Draco replied, and Harry shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," Draco went on as he smirked teasingly. "It's a Slytherin thing."

Harry snorted. "Don't kid yourself," he countered. "It's a Gryffindor thing, too." He leaned in and kissed Draco quickly one more time, then turned, tucking Draco's hand against his lower back as he headed towards the door. "But, no baiting Ron," he shot over his shoulder. "He's going to have enough trouble with this as it is."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco muttered coyly, pale eyes wide, blinking vapidly.

Harry grinned. The fingers of one of Draco's hands were linked securely in his, but on his other hand, the one that Harry couldn't see; he'd bet everything he had that the index and second fingers were crossed.