No Answer
Draco frowned at his phone. It had been twenty minuets but Harry still hadn't replied, which was very unusual as Harry was quite zealous about this kind of thing.
Was the contraption broken? But no, everything else was working, and the messages had all gone through, the little grey tick beside them said so.
Potter!
Wake up, Potter. I'm outside.
If you're not out here within five minutes, I will come in and get you. And by, come in - I will drag your sorry ass out of bed!
Draco sighed irritably, staring up at the Victorian townhouse across the street that none of the muggles walking past even glanced at.
When Harry had first presented the little rectangular box a few weeks previously and told Draco that muggles called it a mobile phone and used it to communicate over long distances, he had been sure that Harry was messing with him. But then he had pulled out his own box - black instead of silver like Draco's - and pushed a squishy grey button with a green crescent-moon-like symbol on it and the device in Draco's hand started to vibrate. The tiny window, which had previously been a dull greenish grey, had lit up blue with the words -Harry Calling- displayed in grainy black letters.
Draco had been rather alarmed and had almost dropped the thing, but Harry had obviously been expecting this and grabbed his wrist, his warm callused fingers pressed against his pulse which sped up in a way that was all too familiar these days.
Once he was sure the box was no longer in danger of falling, Harry let go and brought his box up to his ear, motioning for Draco to press his own grey button with the green symbol and bring it up to his ear.
A moment of silence, and then, "Hello Draco."
Draco yelped, and this time he did drop the contraption, for Harry's voice had come from right in front of him, where he was standing an arms length away, and from inside the silver box!
Harry dissolved into breathless laughter and bent down to pick up the device which Draco was surprised to see was still somehow in one piece, the window glowing blue.
"It's a good thing these are practically indestructible. You're worse than Ron."
Draco bristled indignantly, "I am not!"
Harry rolled his eyes, but wisely chose not to say anything else. Instead he stepped closer to Draco so their shoulders brushed and started to explain the device, the phone.
Draco marvelled at the lengths that muggles would go to to survive without magic, and asked Harry how it worked. How did ones voice travel invisibly through the air from one phone to the other, almost instantaneously?
"I'm not sure. Something to do with satellites and wavelengths."
Draco looked at him blankly, "What's a satellite?"
Harry shrugged, "Muggle technology. Some sort of dish in space.'
Draco had raised an eyebrow, imagining one of his mother's pristine serving platters floating around amongst the stars.
Harry had rolled his eyes at Draco's expression. "Ask Hermione, she'll give you an entire seminar on it."
Draco smiled at the memory of the ensuing conversation that evening when Hermione had explained all about phones and landlines and texting, whilst Harry used a thick black muggle ink pen to draw on Ron's face as he slept.
Draco glanced back down at his phone and growled. "You're a fucking dead man, Potter."
He scanned the street and quickly crossed, hopping up the flagstone steps to No. 12. The front door was made of glossy Blackwood and was bare but for a gleaming phoenix shaped brass knocker - Harry's way of honouring the past, and even Draco had to admit it was miles better than the previous hideous serpentine one. That thing had just been gruesome. He pressed his left hand against the door and ran the tip of his wand alongside it. The phoenix gave a soft trill and beat it's wings once and the door swung open. The door was attuned to magical signatures and Draco was one of the very few that Harry had granted instant access.
The inside was airy and light, the chandelier glistened in the morning sunlight streaming in from the skylight. The once black walls were now a silky white with a neat green and silver trim about waist height that ran through the entire house, a nod to the house's Slytherin past. The carpet had been stripped back revelling the original mahogany floorboards which had been buffed and polished, and the staircase had been restored to its former grandeur. The decapitated house-elf heads had been removed and were currently residing somewhere at Malfoy Manor, as were most of the Black family portraits and more than half of the old furniture and trinkets.
When Harry had decided to renovate Grimmauld Place, instead of throwing out anything he didn't want - which Ron had stated that as the owner he was completely entitled to do - Harry had reached out to Narcissa and Andromeda, sure that it was only right that the last true living Blacks be given the decision of what to do with anything he didn't want or need.
Both women had been touched by the gesture and had come forward to help with the re-design, something Harry had frequently said he was forever thankful for as he had no idea how to go about it. Andromeda had been the one to suggest putting a steel box around the portrait of Mrs Black (which had rather irritatingly refused to budge) soundproofed from the inside by both magical and muggle means along with a portrait Kreacher so she wouldn't be depraved of someone to scream at. Hermione had then suggested using magnets to hang up photographs and drawings on it as well as little notes and reminders, giving the entryway and instantly more homely feel.
Draco glanced down the hall. Directly opposite him at the other end was the door that led down into the kitchen, the only room in the house that had needed the least amount of attention during the renovations. Its door was shut, but the doors leading to the dining and reception rooms were ajar, the rooms beyond them dark, which meant that Harry had yet to come down that morning.
Draco exhaled sharply and headed up the stairs, aiming his wand at the open doors as he passed so that with two soft bangs the curtains swished open and light spilled into the rooms.
He passed the first floor where the library and drawing room resided, past the second that held three guest bedrooms and a large bathroom, and up past the third floor which had previously been the master suite and now solely belonged to Teddy, Harry's godson, otherwise known as the most spoiled and well-loved kid on the entire planet.
Harry's room was on the top floor, the attic bedrooms that had once belonged to Sirius and Regulus had been knocked through to create one large room that spanned the entire width of the house and an en suite bathroom. Harry had found several old journals in his parents vault that had belonged to James, Sirius, Remus and Peter depicting their legacy as The Marauders. Detailed plans of numerous pranks, random notes and old photographs and studies into animagi, wandless magic and spell creation. It was here that Harry found what seemed to be their version of the permanent sticking charm and was obviously what Sirius had used on the photos and Gryffindor memorabilia in his bedroom. Thankfully, it came with a counter charm and Harry was able to safely store it all away, although he kept a few things. The picture of the four happy boys, an old Gryffindor banner and James and Sirius' Quidditch jerseys, framed with their names and numbers blazing across the back.
The room was simple and spacious, with no clutter and the only extravagance being the overly large bed situated in the middle of the room against the length of the exposed brick wall.
A bed that Draco realised held a sleeping Harry.
An entirely much too gloriously naked Harry.
Standing completely immobilized, Draco stared at Harry's sleeping form. His eyes traced Harry's ebony locks falling onto his smooth, bronzed skin, his lips parted, every gentle puff of breath causing the silky strands to flutter.
Draco's eyes followed the path of his throat, arched in sleep, over strong shoulders and down the curve of his spine. The sheets were twisted around his legs, falling low on his hips, the tantalising swell of his ass was visible beneath white cotton.
The two small dimples at the base of his spine winked up at Draco who was so focused on the sharp contrast between brilliant white sheets and Harry's beautiful sun kissed skin didn't notice his eyes opening.
Harry lay still, watching Draco, his green eyes moved over Draco's silvery, silky hair falling onto his flushed cheeks.
Draco sensed Harry's gaze and his eyes snapped back to meet his brilliant sunlight-through-a-forest-canopy-green orbs. He flushed a deep pink at being caught openly ogling Harry and opened his mouth to say something, anything at all, when whatever it was he could come up with was silenced abruptly as Harry shifted onto his side, propped up on one elbow.
A sound that could have been anything from a strangled groan to a breathless whimper clawed its way out of Draco's throat at the sight of Harry's tight, toned torso, his muscles shifting under his skin.
Draco was practically panting, everything inside him was coiled tight, suspended in time. His cock was achingly hard, harder than it had ever been, even harder than it had been when he was sixteen and had walked in on Harry in the prefects bathroom. The image of Harry wet and wiry, his own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking and tugging, was stuck firmly in his mind and had left Draco breathless and needy and he had furiously wanked himself raw that week.
But Harry was no longer a boy, he was a man, strong and rugged and lean. Three hearty meals a day plus intense Auror training was to thank for that.
Draco could not believe he was this lucky. Surely this was a dream. A delicious forbidden dream that was going to be snatched away when he woke up, hard and wanting. He had been in love the with Harry since his third year and their recent turn to friendship made him so happy, beyond happy… but he had never expected anything more, never dreamed he could deserve more.
But this here, now, with Harry looking so invitingly mused and rumpled, his eyes half lidded with what Draco as sure was not just sleep... Could it possibly be real?
Harry smirked at him, and pulled back the sheets, the invitation clear in his eyes.
Draco swallowed visually, and pulled off his Italian loafers whilst tugged his cashmere sweater over his head, leaving him bare except for the low rising dark red, almost black dragon-hide pants.
Harry's eyes traced hungrily over his pale, slender build, then back up to molten silver eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, "Scared, Malfoy?" His voice was low and smooth, sending a delicious shiver down Draco's spine.
"You wish." Draco murmured, his body relaxing under Harry's obviously appreciative gaze.
Those luminous green eyes that left him weak and breathless, were filled with such hunger and fire Draco would fear being scorched if his body wasn't already being consumed by an inferno.
Draco stepped forward, kneeling on the bed. Harry's eyes slowly mapped a path down his neck, chest, stomach… lingering where the leather is stretched tight over his aching hard-on.
Harry sat up, his hands slipped over Draco's knees, up his thighs…. hooking into the belt-hoops and tugging him closer. Their chests rose and fell rapidly, Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from Harry's.
Burning.
Drowning.
Falling.
They were so close, millimetres apart.
Harry tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips brushed achingly slow across Draco's. He waited, and with an exquisitely low whimper Draco closed the insurmountable distances between them.
And finally… finally they were kissing, falling back onto the bed. Pale hands clutching at tan shoulders, and Harry arched under Draco, groaning when his bare erection pressed against Draco's leather covered one.
Suddenly it was like a dam had burst, the coil had sprung.
Their kiss was wild… needy… desperate. They couldn't get close enough. Harry didn't even bother with manually removing Draco's trousers, he just tugged at the waistband and the seams undid themselves, slipping of Draco's alabaster skin like silk. With a kick, Harry pushed away the pants and sheets where they tumbled to the floor.
Harry rolled them over, kneeling between Draco's legs and his thighs tightened around Harry's hips and... Oh Merlin!
Draco bucked under Harry, his head thrown back in abandon, a low keening cry fell from his lips as their bodies slid together, their cocks brushing against each other, slick with their pre-come.
They rocked together, and Harry buried his face in Draco's neck, panting hard, his groans vibrating through the room. His hands tightened on Draco's thighs, tugging him closer, harder. Draco's hands slipped over smooth skin, delighting in the hard muscles he could feel moving beneath his palm. He traced down Harry's back, pressing into the two dimples at the base of his spine.
Harry grunted and thrust hard against Draco, teeth sinking into Draco's shoulder. The rough friction had Draco mewling, Harry's name a gasped prayer torn from his throat.
"Fuck! Draco!" Harry's shout echoed through the room, but Draco barely noticed, his world narrowing to that perfect moment in time. Harry's hand somehow found its way between their bodies and his fingers made a tight fist around both their cocks.
The slid of their shafts, Harry's body pressed tight against his, over him, around him, everywhere. His hot breath against Draco's neck, the obvious desperation and need in his voice as he moaned and grunted and begged faster, harder, more!
Draco couldn't take it any more, he was so close, so fucking close. He slid his hand up into Harry's hair, his fingernails scraping against his scalp that sent tremors wracking through Harry's body and yanked viciously, pulling Harry into a bruising kiss that sent them both over the edge into blissful oblivion.
Draco's vision went white, his body taunt, pleasure like no other rushed through him, white hot and almost painful.
"Harry!"
They collapsed together, boneless, harsh breaths echoing through the still air. Neither moved… lost in the afterglow of what had to be the fucking 9th wonder of the world.
But then, cutting through the silence, high and sharp, unmistakable. The jarring ring of a phone, Harry's phone.
Two heads turned towards the source if the sound, lying innocently, within reach, on Harry's bedside table.
Draco turned slowly back to Harry, who flushed even further under Draco's accusing scrutiny.
"Your phone was on the entire time?"
Harry nodded and his eyes bright and dancing.
"You complete prat! Why didn't you answer my messages?"
Harry bit his lip to stop himself from grinning at Draco's indignation.
Draco's eyes alighted on his full, swollen red lips caught between white teeth and groaned internally at the sight.
"You are an utter git, you know that!"
Harry chuckled, lowering his head down to press a kiss against the love bite forming where he had bitten him.
A low whine fell from Draco as he gripped Harry's shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. Harry pressed kisses across Draco's collarbone, his tongue flicking out to lap at the soft skin in the hollow of his throat. His lips brush achingly slow up the arch of Draco's neck, drawing Draco's earlobe into his mouth and suckling gently.
Draco gasped, pressing himself closer, "Fuck!… Harry!"
Harry pulled back, his teeth scraped lightly over Draco's jaw.
"That was sort of the idea."
Draco's eyes snapped open.
"You… You planned this?"
Harry tilted his head, "I didn't plan this." Draco was unsure whether he should be relieved or disappointed, but before he could decide Hardy continued.
"I hoped."
"Hoped?"
Harry's grin turned sheepish, "It took me a while… to notice…"
Draco stilled, eyes careful.
"Notice what?"
"That you watch me the way I watch you."
Draco searched Harry's face and then he relaxed, expression softening.
"Took you long enough." He murmured, reaching up to card his fingers through Harry's hair like he had wanted to for Merlin knows how long. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Why didn't you?"
"Because I'm not a foolhardy Gryffindor who wears his heart on his sleeve…. speaking of which, this was entirely too Slytherin of you."
Harry's smirked, and his expression turned mischievous, "I've been known to have my moments."
Draco's eyes darkened and with a muted growl, he yanked Harry back down, lips colliding, tumbling….
After that, there was no longer any need for words.
