Author: lmeden

Title: A Complex and Most Unusual Birthday

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: ~1300

Warnings: Porn

Summary: Draco wants, and gets, an unusual birthday present.

Author's Notes: Thank you to angela-snape and leela-cat for the quick and fantastic beta. For the hd-birthdaybash. Happy Birthday, Harry and Draco!

Harry and Draco pass in the hallway.

Lately, Hermione has described their encounters as 'like ships in the night'. Harry never answers her accusations and suspicious looks with words. He only smiles, and wonders about her reaction if she knew what was really afoot.

But, this time they aren't passing each other on the way to class – it's the middle of the night. As Harry walks by Draco, his arm is seized and pulled to the side, and then they are in an old, dirty classroom. It is dark inside, so Harry pulls his wand out and lights it with barely a thought. The door shuts behind them and Draco flicks his wand back to lock it. Harry laughs joyfully and turns, pulling Draco into his arms.

They kiss easily, as they have innumerable times before, over many years. Harry groans as Draco slips his agile tongue along his lips and into his mouth. Harry puzzles over the taste that lurks within Draco's mouth, then places it and sighs in satisfaction.

"Merlot?" He asks, breathless when he pulls back long moments later.

Draco gives Harry a scolding look. "Did you think that I would have left it behind?"

Harry supposes not. They had both left many things behind – far, far away in their previous lives – in order to go on this little birthday adventure, but, like Harry, Draco's merlot is special to him. Harry wishes he could raise an eyebrow in Draco's direction. He is not sure whether being compared to wine, however subtly, is favorable or not.

Then Draco quirks one of his rare and captivating smiles at Harry, and all thoughts of wine evanesce.

A streak of giddiness rushes through Harry as he watches Draco's lips curl up and his eyes crinkle at the corners. His eyes fairly dance. An instant later Draco's smile has fallen away; his eyes have darkened and he watches Harry unblinkingly.

He places both hands on Harry's chest and pushes him back against the wall. Hard.

Draco steps close, aligning his body with Harry's and sliding them closer and closer, until Harry cannot tell where his breath ends and Draco's begins. Slowly, tantalizingly, Draco lowers his head and brushes his lips along the side of Harry's throat.

Nearly consumed with the anticipation and desire that has built in him for over a week, Harry's breath catches in his throat. He pushes his head back against the wall, grinding it against the stones. The sharp pain of this, and of Draco's biting at the veins in his neck, sends shivers down Harry's spine and straight to his cock. He can feel himself hardening fast and blesses this sixteen-year-old body.

Draco's breath is hot and moist on his throat, and when he pulls away to lick instead of bite, he leaves a spot of cold that tantalizes Harry. He reaches his hands up, and forces his eyes open, and laces his fingers through Draco's hair.

He wants Draco on him, in him. His hips jerk forward, seeking purchase.

But as expected, Draco wrenches himself back, removing Harry's hands from his hair so that he can glare at him. Draco doesn't like his hair to be touched, so of course Harry takes every opportunity to do so.

Even when it delays his own satisfaction.

Draco twists away and Harry grasps his shoulders to pull him close once more. He comes back willingly, now that Harry has released his precious hair, and begins unbuttoning Harry's robe. He tosses the fronts over Harry's shoulders and Harry wriggles to get out of it.

A moan from Draco draws his attention, and Harry realizes that his movements have shifted his hips against Draco's. Harry's mouth parts slightly at the sensation of their cocks touching, and he arches away from the wall to better touch his lover.

Draco murmurs and rolls his hips, pulling a gasp from Harry and sending his eyes fluttering shut. Harry bares his teeth in a smile and tries to pull Draco even closer, into his body, but Draco places his hands on the wall and holds his upper body just a few inches too far away.

Harry throws his head back in mindless frustration, forgetting that the wall is behind him. His head slams into it, and his vision wavers.

He gasps as pain shoots through him and mixes with his arousal – a heady cocktail. Draco pulls at Harry's shirt, slipping it out of his trousers. It gapes open, sending cool air swirling around his torso. Harry wonders briefly when Draco unbuttoned his shirt, but decides that it doesn't matter.

His hips jerk up and up towards Draco once more, but he's stepped back, and so Harry's cock finds none of the friction that he wants, needs, requires. He growls and opens his eyes; Draco's not there.

Alarm flashes through his mind and he fumbles at the wall, scrambling to push himself away from it and find Draco. But hands pull at his trousers and undo the buttons. He glances down and discovers Draco's glorious blond hair, hovering fabulously near his cock.

Harry's grin vanishes when Draco yanks his trousers and pants down his legs. He nearly falls, and braces himself by pressing harder against the wall – he will surely fall straight through it if he keeps pushing.

And then. Draco swallows the head of his cock, and Harry's breath halts dead in his throat. He gulps as arousal swamps him. His lungs begin to burn, forcing him to take a deep breath.

His hands, which have been clawing at the stone wall, quiver as his nails bend, so he pulls them forward and grasps Draco's hair. Draco bares his teeth in threat, then surges forward and swallows Harry's cock almost whole. Harry grips Draco's fine hair tighter and tighter.

Draco snatches at Harry, digging his fingers into his thighs. Harry moans at the pain and hitches his hips. Draco's tongue swirls and licks at him and Harry feels his balls tighten and he's close, so close.

Draco's releases his thighs to touch the base of Harry's cock with the barest of touches and Harry gasps, high and girlish, and comes.

As his orgasm fades, Harry's legs tremble and he slumps down the wall – sprawling on the floor. He feels Draco settle next to him.

He turns his head to look at the blond, and Draco kisses him. Harry simply breathes as Draco gently licks his lips before pulling back and catching his own breath. Harry's wand, on a nearby table, still lights the room, and Harry glances at the Time Turner that has fallen out of the neck of Draco's shirt.

It glitters prettily in the dim light.

Harry looks back up to Draco's face and smiles. Draco's hairline is receding before his eyes, and delicate wrinkles are beginning to take root around his eyes. Harry knows that grey is lacing itself through his own hair; that his scar is fading.

It is the price of age. Draco glances at him and frowns. He begins rummaging in his own robe, as he is still, somehow, fully dressed, looking for the De-Aging potion. Harry reaches out and stills his hands.

"Not yet. You haven't—" He nods towards Draco's hard cock, and Draco swallows, trying to remain firm.

"But the potion…" he begins.

"I want you like this," Harry whispers huskily.

He is sick of seeing a sixteen-year-old Draco everyday. He is sick of the memories that that Draco stirs. He wants, instead, the Draco that he has come to know and love – a Draco who has just turned thirty, and demanded the impossible – to relive his sixteenth year – for his birthday.

This Draco, with a lined face and thinning hair, who gasps into Harry's eager kiss, is the man who Harry wants. And tonight, he will have him.

Before they must take the De-Aging potion in the morning and go back to reliving their Sixth Year once more.