Title: Eternal Night
Author: AreataKaze
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter
Word count: 2, 869
Rating: NC-17
A/N: This is not compliant with JK Rowling's Epilogue From Hell.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, that epilogue would simply not exist.
Draco stepped into the room in Malfoy Manor that he kept made up especially for this. He gazed around the room in contemplation, wondering if he should redecorate. He looked at the ceiling; enchanted as the Great Hall in Hogwarts was, and the eternal winter of the birch trees on the walls.
He looked at the enormous king sized bed made up with forest green sheets with its silky silver duvet, and decided that it could wait until next summer at the very least. The blonde smirked to himself at the color scheme of the bed. Seven years out of Hogwarts and he still primarily was the most comfortable with a green and silver themed bedroom. Old habits died hard.
The former Slytherin glanced down at his watch with furrowed brows. He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair and shrugged his shoulders in irritation. The idiot was late. Again.
Grey eyes flashed to the door as it opened silently, and Harry Potter slid through before closing and locking it behind him. The former Gryffindor was panting, as if he had run there, and his face was slightly flushed. Draco once again thanked Granger in his head for finally convincing Potter to get his eyesight corrected about five years ago. Now there was no more need for those awful bottle glasses. Draco quirked a brow in question at the former Gryffindor's state and Potter grinned roguishly. He passed a hand over his emerald eyes and flicked black fringe out of his face before answering Draco's silent inquiry.
"Your Mum almost sighted me as I was rounding the corner to this floor; I had to make a run for it before she came round the corner herself and spotted me."
Draco snorted in amusement. "The Savior of the Wizarding World, The Vanquisher of Voldemort, running from my mother. There has got to be some sort of poetic irony to that." He strolled closer to the former Gryffindor.
Potter just rolled his eyes at that and started to remove his Auror robes. He folded them over the back of a conveniently placed chair, leaving him in just a white long sleeved button up shirt, black denims and knee high dragon hide boots. He flicked his ponytail from where it had lay over one shoulder to back behind him. Draco watched it swish gently back and forth behind Potter, where it hung to just below the line of his ribs, and felt his mouth water at the sight that Potter made. He himself had forgone robes altogether, knowing Potter's habit of ripping rather than waiting for the robes to be removed. He moved closer still and Potter moved with him to meet in the middle, mouths clashing with a ferocity that belied the recentness of their last secret rendezvous.
Within moments Draco had control of the kiss, flicking his tongue and tasting every corner of Potter's sweet mouth. His tongue ran along the roof of the former Gryffindor's mouth and he caught the brunette as his knees buckled. He stepped back from Potter, and licked his lips. He looked Potter up and down and said one word.
"Strip."
The former Gryffindor hurried to comply as Draco himself followed his own order. When he had finished, Potter had turned down the sheets and was lying naked on the bed, palming his hardness. Draco groaned at the picture he made and crawled across the bed to him. He reached his Gryffindor, and settled down on top of him, lining up their erections, and frotting against him.
The former Slytherin rolled his hips in the way he knew Potter liked and was rewarded with a strangled sounding moan of pleasure. Draco leaned up and attacked the brunette's neck like a starved vampire, leaving small bruises all the way down Potter's neck and across his collarbone. Potter melted like butter over a hot stove, and lay languidly moaning as Draco worked his hotspot. Draco worked his way back up to the former Gryffindor's ear, and muttered into it in a sex-rough voice, prompting a shiver of delight from his partner.
"Roll over."
Potter eagerly did as was asked and lay on his stomach. Draco crawled down between lean and muscular thighs, and gripped the arse in front of him with sure hands.
Strong hand gripped the firm arse in front of them, spreading it apart to expose its treasure. The owner of those hands groaned as he looked at that much beloved hole, pink and glistening with sweat, rhythmically clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
He licked a trail up his lover's spine to the nape of his neck, where the base of a night dark ponytail was fixed. The rest of the ponytail was flung out to the side, stretching out a good two and a half feet. The locks shifted as the man they belonged to tossed his head and whimpered.
"Draco, please!"
The former Slytherin smirked and licked another trail down his lover's spine, his tongue retracing the path it had taken before. He reached the indent of the tailbone, and stopped, and waited. The man beneath him whimpered again and cried out in frustration, gripping the forest green sheets beneath his hands in fistfuls. The dark haired man turned and looked over his shoulder at the blonde kneeling beneath his spread legs with a flushed face. He wordlessly begged with glazed eyes, the pupils blown so far with lust that only a slim ring of green remained to show what color they were.
Draco smirked up at him, tongue circling just out of reach of the place that his lover wanted him to lick,
"Tsk tsk tsk, Golden Boy, you know how to ask nicely, don't you?"
Black fringe matted with sweat stuck to Potter's face as he panted through kiss swollen pink lips, and he turned the scariest glare he could muster at the moment on the monumental tease of a snake kneeling between his spread and shaking legs.
But Draco just smirked up at him with a calm gaze and slowly dragged his tongue upwards once more in kitten soft swipes, tongue just a flash of pink between equally pink and swollen lips. The blonde made as if to move away up Potter's back once more, and the former Gryffindor's control snapped with an almost audible crack.
He tossed his head again, and dropped it in defeated resignation, panting into the pillow. He lifted his head and begged in a rasping whisper.
"Draco, please."
The blonde paused in his tongue's ever circling ministrations to ask, "Draco please what? I didn't quite hear you Potter."
Potter huffed out a shaking breath, and asked louder, "Draco, please, please lick my arse!"
Draco shrugged with a wicked smirk. "If you insist."
The former Slytherin lowered his mouth to the pink pucker winking up at him, and sucked. Potter nearly flew off the bed, and Draco pressed him back down with a firm hand on his lower back. He licked a long slow stripe up Potter's crack and proceeded back down to thrust his tongue in as far as it would go.
He could feel Potter's arse loosening, opening up under his intense ministrations, opening for him. He slipped in a finger, all the way to the second joint, and Potter arched his back and moaned, a vibration that Draco could feel in his tongue. He slipped in a second finger and scissored them, searching for the spot that he had always privately thought as the cum button. He knew he found it when Potter let out a mewling moan and thrust his hips into the mattress, seeking friction for his weeping cock.
Draco looked at Potter spread out like a fine work of art in front of him, and thought that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
He lifted his head and slipped in a third finger and pumped them, trying not to hurt the former Gryffindor beneath him.
He and Potter may have their fair share of fights as a couple, more than fair actually, but he would never deliberately hurt him. Not during this anyway. Not when Potter was spread out before like an offering to a heathen god of yore, beautiful and vulnerable and somehow pure. The Gryffindor was wrecked. He was panting like a dog in heat, and periodically grabbing fistfuls of sheets. His hair was damp with sweat and a pink flush had spread from his face all the way across his shoulders.
Draco withdrew his fingers, and cast a lubrication spell on his cock, and braced one hand on the bed beside Potter's waist as he bent over and whispered hotly in his ear,
"You ready Hero?"
Potter nodded his consent, and Draco drew back with a final suck on his Gryffindor's earlobe, prompting another lusted filled moan. He guided his cock with one hand and pushed just the head in.
Potter had frozen beneath him and Draco chuckled with mirth in grey eyes and waited with the patience of a saint for his lover to relax. Tense minutes passed, and Potter's muscles finally loosened enough for Draco to slide forward and bottom out. He waited once more, for that one blessed word.
Potter's swollen lips parted and he rasped out, "Move."
Draco didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his hand around the length of Potter's ponytail, and used it as leverage to pull the Gryffindor up unto his knees. The dark haired man fell forward and buried his face in his crossed arms, letting his elbows take his weight as Draco thrust forward. Potter keened, a high pitched sound of utter want, and his Slytherin moved faster.
Draco found what he was searching for when the head of his cock hit Potter's prostate with a sharp jab. Potter's head flew up in response, and he moaned loudly, a broken sound that set Draco's heart pumping faster still. The former Gryffindor started to mewl out repeated whimpers and gasps, consisting mostly of half mumbled murmurs, Draco's name, and pleas to God. The blonde pumped his hips in a circular motion, letting just the tip of his cock drag over his lover's prostate, and the former Gryffindor sobbed out Draco's name in a desperate plea. Draco let the hand that wasn't wrapped in dark tresses grab a hold of the top of Potter's hair, his fringe near the front, and leaned over to he could see his Gryffindor's expression. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, his face flushed pink, and his mouth hung open in a round o, his bottom lip and red and torn where he must have bitten it. Draco groaned long and loud at the picture of decadence that the Gryffindor made.
He released his hold on the dark hair and brought his hand around to grip Potter's neglected cock. Red and weeping copious amounts of precum, Draco used it to lubricate his hold and stroked in counter time with his thrusts inside the Gryffindor Golden Boy.
A not so subtle trembling began in Potter's limbs, and he started to pant faster and faster, keening a high pitched moan all the while. He was close to the edge, Draco knew it and he leaned down licked the delicate earlobe in front of him.
He whispered into Potter's ear, panting harshly himself, "Come for me, Harry." And bit down at the junction of neck where it meets the shoulder.
And Potter arched his back and came.
He came in long pearly ropes, some of it reaching as far as his torn bottom lip, and then he went boneless, lying with his arse in the air as Draco continued to tease his too sensitive prostate with his still hard cock. The Gryffindor's refractory period grew to almost nonexistent as unbelievably, his spent cock stirred and showed interest in what the Slytherin was doing between his thighs.
Potter groaned as Draco withdrew from him, and proceeded to prompt him into turning over. Draco gazed down at the man beneath him, the most powerful wizard in the world, and reveled in the notion that this amazing, gorgeous, sensitive, brash, brave, idiot of a Gryffindor was all his. His and no others. Draco leaned down and licked the cum off of Potter's bottom lip before capturing those lips in a biting kiss. He wasted no effort in conveying wordlessly a fierce feeling of possession and, not that Draco would ever admit it out loud, love.
The blonde hooked Potter's legs over his shoulders and slid home. It was more gentle this time, more making love than fucking, and Draco knew by the look in Potter's emerald eyes that he would have been spouting mushy Gryffindor sentimentality had his mouth not been otherwise occupied. Draco remained kissing his Gryffindor, bending him nearly in half to do so.
He reached up and removed the ponytail holder from Potter's hair, letting it spread out to the side of them in a thick sweet scented curtain of midnight waves. Draco groaned around Potter's tongue and buried his hand in the thick and silken tresses. He loved Potter's ridiculously long hair, not that he'd ever say so, and knew half the reason it was still long was because Potter knew he loved it so much.
Potter's hands came up and grabbed Draco's arse, urging without words to move. And Draco rocked gently in and out of the center of his universe; the man who had been so since that day so long ago when he walked into Madam Malkin's and stared up at Draco with big green eyes beneath messy black fringe.
Draco moved more urgently as his orgasm approached. He opened his eyes and stared into his lover's as they lay there. They weren't really kissing anymore as breathing became harder, just panting into each other's mouths. The Slytherin reached down and wrapped a hand around Potter's erection, stroking in time with his ever faster pumping hips. He watched his Gryffindor's orgasm approaching again, and panted into Potter's mouth.
"Together now."
Draco arched down and Potter arched up and pearly ropes of cum shot between them to rest in the dip in Potter's flat stomach. Draco collapsed on top of his Gryffindor and lay there as strong arms surrounded him and trapped him for the inevitable post coital snuggling session that Potter was so fond of. Hand stroked through his hair, and pushed his fringe behind his ear. Draco sighed in contentment and asked, "Am I crushing you?" to his lover, who simply shook his head in answer.
Draco huffed out another breath as he withdrew carefully from his exhausted lover and summoned his wand with a quick nonverbal Accio. He conjured a warm and wet cloth to thoroughly clean off both himself and his Gryffindor and banished it once finished. He rolled to the side after sending a cleaning charm through the sheets, gathered up his lover into his arms and pulled the covers up around them.
Potter's head was resting on Draco's shoulder, and the blonde had carefully wrapped his arm around the Gryffindor under his hair so as not to pull it. It spread out beside them like a black river and the arm Potter wasn't laying on came up and settled around the former Gryffindor to grab a fistful of the black silken stuff.
They lay there for a while in silence, and Potter's breath eventually evened out and deepened, indicating that he slept. And although Morpheus' arms beckoned from the shadows, Draco knew not their sweet embrace.
He fought to stay awake.
He knew that as soon as he closed his eyes, come morning when he reopened them, Potter would be gone. As always.
Back to his Gryffindor friends and his Auror career and his perfect, golden life. A life that Draco could never be a part of. Not as an ex-Death Eater, not as a pureblood who'd spent time in Azkaban for war crimes, not as a man. He couldn't give Potter children, or a family of his own, which Draco knew the dark haired former Gryffindor desperately longed for. All he could do was ruin the good name of the man he loved, and Draco wasn't selfish enough to do that for the sake of his own happiness.
He'd take what he could get, when he could get it, and wait, and hope, and pray for a miracle. He'd exist in these brief moments when Potter was his; he'd live for them, and hold him close in a night where dawn was a thing to be feared. When all was silent and the enchanted ceiling above them reflected the stars; when everything remained the same, he'd live in those eternal nights.
Then star nor sun shall waken,
Nor any change of light:
Nor sound of waters shaken,
Nor any sound or sight:
Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,
Nor days nor things diurnal;
Only the sleep eternal
In an eternal night.