Title: Fine Art

Title: Fine Art

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: M/R

Summary: Romance. Draco is never taking Harry to a symphony again. PWP.

Note: I actually like symphonies, but sometimes I do nod off at them. I'M SORRYYY!! And beforehand, no offense meant to any singers/ symphony lovers who may read this... It just worked with the fic idea.

P.S.- IMPORTANT! the breaks -- are sort of a change of point of view between Harry and Draco. Just mentioning it in case it confuses anyone.


Harry yawned widely for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. His head nodded involuntarily as his green eyes slid further shut.

'How did Draco talk me into this?' he thought vaguely as his head dropped sharply, jolting him from his doze once more. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, sat up straighter, and attempted once again to pay attention to the soprano soloist. At least he thought that's what Draco had called her. He really didn't know why he bothered listening in the first place. It was all in Latin anyways, so he couldn't understand it, and all the woman did was jerk around while she sang. It was actually rather irritating, but Draco had told him that that was just the style of singing. Still irritating. At least the conductor was a bit of an interesting distraction. He flourished his arms widely, swaying and jerking as he moved his arms forcefully, reminding Harry of a beetle as his tail coats swished with his every move.

Oh no, he was falling asleep again.

"Harry, I know it's hard for you to enjoy anything with even the slightest elegance in it, but at least try to pretend you're not falling asleep," Draco's low, elegant drawl woke Harry once more, and he glanced grumpily at his boyfriend.

"It's your fault for dragging me here," he whispered moodily in reply. "How you can stay awake, I have no idea."

"I have more appreciation for the fine arts, Harry," the blonde replied with a smirk. Harry just looked at him pointedly. "All right, all right," Draco said, turning back to the stage and seemingly giving up on his lover for the moment. "We're a story above the rest of the muggles in a private box with the lights out, so i suppose you can go to sleep. As long as you don't snore or anything."

Harry rolled his eyes and glanced at the stage. The soprano was still singing in Latin, and he looked away without much interest, turning towards Draco once more. His lover looked nice as always, with his fair hair worn loose, his skin glowing in the dim light, and his eyes sparkling as he watched the performance.

Suddenly it really struck Harry: they were one story above the prying eyes of any muggles, in a private wizarding box with the lights out.

A mischievous grin spread across his face.


He was watching the soprano sing when he first felt it: a light touch on his thigh. At first Draco didn't pay attention, thinking with mild disappointment that Harry had actually gone to sleep and had just bumped him. The blonde was actually a little sad that Harry didn't seem to be enjoying the music like he was. Although he really should have seen this coming; not many people with no particular love for music could sit through this without dozing off, and Harry hadn't been raised with fancy symphonies as he had.

He felt the touch again, this time more deliberate and further up. He glanced at Harry sitting only a few scant inches away from him in the small box. His lover was staring intently down at the stage. Draco frowned.

'Odd, I thought he was going to sleep.' With a shrug, he focused back on the stage where the soprano sat down and the alto stood in her place.

Again, gentle fingers ran down his leg, and this time they were definitely deliberate, running down his knee and skimming his inner thigh. Ignoring the sudden jump in his stomach, Draco turned to glare at his boyfriend. "Not funny, Harry," he hissed, trying to will away a blush as he once again had to fend off Harry's wandering hands. "I'm trying to watch, now is really not the-" he cut off with a hiss. Harry's hand had just flattened itself on the front of his pants.

"Not the what?" Harry whispered seductively, leaning into Draco's space and kissing his neck gently. Draco frowned, trying to focus through the growing lust as Harry moved his hand up and down and started to nibble at an especially sensitive spot on his neck. Harry's closest arm went around the back of Draco's seat, allowing Harry to turn into him further.

"Um... time. Not- not the time... to...be doing this..." Draco trailed off with a moan, his body responding despite himself.

"Sorry, love," Harry said, not sounding very apologetic at all, "I just found a way to keep awake." Pulling away to look into Draco's face, Harry began to unzip the front of Draco's black dress pants. "Try not to be too loud," he whispered, and slipped his hand inside.


Harry watched in partial amusement when Draco gritted his teeth and tried not to show his arousal despite the hand on his cock. With a low, teasing growl, Harry returned to his lover's neck and bit down hard, relishing the gasp that Draco couldn't withhold. He didn't move his hand yet, determined to tease until Draco asked for it. He soothed the bite with a few gentle swipes of his tongue, paying no heed to Draco's vague noise of protest that was more of a moan than anything.

"Harry-" Draco groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Yes. love?" Harry asked mock-sweetly, trailing nips and kisses up to Draco's ear.

"Do something," Draco demanded breathlessly. He turned to stare dazedly into lusty emerald eyes. "I don't... care, just-"

"As you wish," Harry said playfully.


Harry moved his hand slowly over Draco's shaft, not really giving him enough pleasure. Draco closed his eyes in frustration, panting slightly. Harry stroked him in slow, gentle, unfulfilling touches. Draco shifted his hips, trying in vain to thrust into Harry's teasing hand only for the motion to stop completely.

"Wh- what?" Draco whimpered. To his confusion, Harry removed his hands completely, and slunk out of his chair to kneel where his chair flipped up. With both hands free, Harry set to work loosening his tie.

"Patience, there's still plenty of this symphony to get through." After he had undone the silken tie, he set to work on the buttons of Draco's equally silky dress shirt, trailing light kisses as he opened each button. Draco frowned at him again. He had almost forgotten about the symphony that he had been enjoying. His previous annoyance was a calming thought under the circumstances, and the blonde glanced past Harry to the stage once more. The soprano was singing again.

"Hey, where are you looking?" Harry whispered. He bit down almost harshly on one of Draco's nipples and sucked lightly. Draco gasped in surprise and his hands came up to grip his lover's hair harshly; encouraging him even closer. He felt Harry smile smugly against his chest, but ignored it. Harry's hand rose to tug and tweak at his other nipple, fully arousing it before moving on.

Draco moaned lowly at each touch, biting his lip severely in a desperate attempt to keep silent.


Harry once more sat back on his heels, enjoying the picture Draco made. His head was tossed back and his eyes were shut; his face flushed prettily. His open white shirt perfectly displayed the bruises forming on his neck and chest from Harry's bites. Harry smiled and focused his attention on the one displayed part he hadn't touched enough.

Harry leaned in once more and placed a chaste kiss on his lover's lips, coaxing him to release the abused lip. "Do you want me to touch you?" Draco nodded but didn't answer aloud. Harry reached out and ran a single finger up Draco's shaft and swirled around the head. The blonde shivered and gasped, once more bucking up toward Harry's teasing hand.

"More..." he mumbled desperately, opening his eyes and looking pleadingly into Harry's face. His lover smiled indulgently and once more began to stroke Draco lightly and teasingly making Draco groan his frustration. "Dammit, Harry" he growled in irritation, "harder!"

"You could have just asked," Harry whispered and intensified his strokes.


His hand firmly gripped Draco's weeping length giving him much needed friction, but his pace was still agonizingly slow. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip once more, stifling a cry that would have surely been heard in even the row of muggles below.

He could feel the warmth coiling inside him now, a tight heat ready to burst any moment. He just needed a little bit more. "F-faster."

Harry's pace sped rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic though his face was calm. He jerked his hips sharply to meet Harry's hand as stars exploded behind his eyes and Harry's mouth crashed on his as he cried in release. Vaguely, he heard a high, clear note- the crescendo to the solo- and slumped, boneless, back into his seat. He sat panting, regaining feeling in his body and fuzzy mind while Harry covered his mouth in soft kisses.

"Bravo," Harry whispered. "A beautiful show."

Draco's mind slowly made the connection and he chuckled as Harry cleaned up the mess in his lap with Draco's handkerchief. Slowly, he buttoned Draco's shirt, pausing to kiss every mark he had left behind.

"Well," Draco breathed as Harry re-tied his tie, "I had an adoring audience."

Harry nodded and laughed, then kissed his lover deeply one more time, stood, and returned to his seat, shifting his coat over his lap to hide his obvious arousal.

Draco watched Harry shift for a moment and bit his lip indecisively; he was still a bit annoyed at Harry no matter how good that had felt, but he still felt bad for Harry's discomfort. "Harry... Do you want me to..." He gestured at Harry's lap. The brunette looked down at his lap and then back to Draco with amusement.

"No, it's okay" he said, "just enjoy the rest of the symphony; I'll calm down. Besides," he grinned wickedly, "you can just pay me back when we get home."

Draco scowled at the leer and turned back to the stage with a huff. "I'm never taking you to a symphony again," he pouted in annoyance.

Harry smiled and inwardly cheered.

-END-