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Chapter Four—Defensive and Offensive

Draco could have smiled at the pure, delicious torment in Harry's eyes, but he didn't think he wanted to encourage him to have doubts. He wiped his palms on his trousers and then lifted his hands, feathering his fingers delicately along Harry's cock.

Maybe he should have been afraid. He certainly would have said that he was, if someone had asked him if he wanted to do this ahead of time. But now that he was here, with the warm smell drifting up from Harry's skin and the head of Harry's penis trembling an inch from his lips, the sensation crowded out the fear.

"I want this, I promise," he said, but deliberately kept his voice low, so that Harry felt the warm breath more than the impact of the words.

Harry shuddered and gave in with a thrust of his hips towards Draco, the way Draco had hoped he would. Draco chuckled—though soundlessly—and leaned forwards, holding his teeth carefully behind his lips. He'd been bitten before by a careless partner, and it wasn't an experience he was anxious to pass on to anyone else.

His tongue had to be careful, too, he realized the moment Harry was in his mouth. It was easy to lick in the wrong direction, or at least a direction that felt wrong, and easy to fill his mouth too much. He choked a few times, then reoriented himself and stroked his tongue up and down. He rolled his eyes up towards Harry's face, wondering if he was doing all right.

He quickly realized he needn't have worried. Harry had his eyes tightly shut, and the crinkled lines around his mouth could have fooled someone into thinking he was in pain, but Draco saw the rhythmic way his hands opened and closed, and heard the hitch of a whine in his breaths, and felt the way his hips writhed in tiny circles, longing to thrust more deeply but not allowing himself to.

Draco smiled. He would have liked nothing more than to force Harry to lose control. But he wasn't sure he was ready for that. Nothing less sexy than someone coughing and gagging during a blowjob.

He began to swirl his tongue instead, up and around Harry's cock in a pattern as close to a spiral as he could come, while reaching back to pinch the skin around Harry's arse. Harry squeaked and opened his eyes to stare down at Draco. Draco looked up at him with an expression that he didn't think he could have defined, but it made Harry buck. That was enough for Draco.

"Come on," Draco mouthed, and sucked deeply on Harry.

That was certainly effective. Harry gave a shocked cry, as though he'd been the victim of a lightning bolt, and came.

Draco shuddered and drove his fists into the floor to stop his impulse to back away. It really didn't taste very good. But this was another time when he was grateful that he'd been born a wizard and not a Muggle, because he only had to reach for his wand and tap the corners of his mouth to Vanish the excess that trickled past his lips. He couldn't bring himself to swallow most of it, so that was a lot.

Harry slid down the wall promptly, his legs quivering as though he'd spent hours exercising. Draco drew back before he was crushed and rocked onto his heels. Despite the disgusting taste in his mouth and the truly distressing ache between his legs, he felt more triumphant than he had since his application to the Auror program was accepted.

"Well," he purred. "And how did you like the first real sexual experience of your life?"

Harry forced one eye open and glared at him. "'m not a virgin, you know," he mumbled.

"But you've never had sex with me," Draco pointed out peacefully. "That makes you a virgin to my powerful mouth."

Harry began to laugh. Draco leaned against him and grinned at him. He couldn't be offended by the laughter. It had a very pleasant affected sound. Harry wasn't immune to him, and that was what Draco had really wanted to know.

Harry stopped laughing with an abruptness that worried Draco for a minute, but then he leaned forwards and stared into his eyes, and Draco realized that he had simply exchanged one emotion for another. Amusement had turned into desire, and Draco fought, hard, the impulse to preen as he reached out one hand. Harry's was already moving to grip his.

"I want you," Harry said against his ear, "upstairs in bed. Now."

Draco smirked and stood, allowing his gaze to linger on Harry's sweaty and smeared cock for a minute. I did that. He resolved to allow that thought to strengthen him if he worried about how he would react to something so intimate as Harry sucking him off.

"Your room or mine?" he asked.

*

I can't believe I'm actually going to do this.

So many thoughts were trying to crowd into Harry's mind as he watched Draco lay himself across the middle of Harry's bed, spreading his legs and arching his hips as if he wanted to draw more attention than he'd had so far. Harry could have told him that was impossible. He already couldn't look anywhere but Draco, couldn't look at anything but the way Draco's long fingers curled and flexed against the material of his dark blue trousers as he drew them down, or the way Draco glanced up at him from one pale eye and then looked down mock-demurely.

But his thoughts did center on other things, and Harry could hear their murmur out of the corner of his mental ear.

I thought he was afraid.

What if I do something wrong?

I've had sex before, but never with a man. I might hurt him. I might do something that means he'll never want to have sex with me again, even if he did the first time.

Is he only doing this because he was jealous of Ginny? That's not a good motive. I should talk to him about that.

But Draco turned his head and stared at him fully instead of from the side, and Harry felt his reluctance melt out of him at the full impact of those drowning grey eyes. That gaze, at least, told him that Draco was as uncertain as he was, and Harry couldn't resist climbing onto the bed, crouching above him, and lowering his head to kiss him.

Draco adapted to the kiss eagerly, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out so that it twined in the air between his mouth and Harry's. Harry laughed and slid closer, letting the familiar feel of the warm skin on the back of Draco's neck and his cheeks soothe his fears. Maybe this first time wouldn't be exceptionally brilliant—although his bones still hummed with the exceptional pleasure Draco had given him—but they would have the chance for a million more times. That at least released a lot of his anxiety.

"Come on now," Draco whispered at last, as much as he could around their joined tongues, lifting his hips and rubbing his cock back and forth against Harry's leg. Harry groaned, and Draco smiled. "I think you have something else to do."

Harry kissed him one more time and then slid down his body. Draco's cock looked tempting, there was no doubt about that, rosy and shiny and trembling and covered with white liquid. Harry licked his lips and looked up into Draco's face one more time, rejoicing in the way that Draco opened his mouth and just kept it open as Harry sank onto his cock.

Harry knew he'd had to close his eyes when Draco sucked him off, and now he was fighting not to close them again. The sheer fullness of his mouth was getting to him in a strange way, and his tongue didn't seem to have enough room to move, and there was no such thing as bringing enough pleasure to Draco.

By contrast, Draco kept his eyes open, staring straight down at Harry, his breath so fast that Harry feared he would pass out some of the time. Once, he lifted his fist to his mouth and started to gnaw on it, but he immediately dropped it again, as if horrified that he'd begun. He shook his head, and then his face flushed and he began breathing slowly in and out, building up to pants. His expression was dazed, fluctuating between pleasure and something deeper, something Harry thought he could have worked out.

But he was a little occupied at the moment, and enjoying himself far more than he would have thought he could.

It was—it was wonderful to find that he could make Draco whimper with a sideways lick, or make him stiffen and arch and fight to keep from crying out if his cock bumped into Harry's gums. He liked the taste that flooded his mouth, because it was the taste of giving, to him. He was giving Draco this gift, and Draco liked it, and expressed a lot more than he usually did when Harry tried to give him something.

Let's see him try to be cool and composed now, Harry thought, smug, and his tongue lashed again, and Draco yelped and came into his mouth without so much as a warning.

Harry choked and garbled the words he tried to say to Draco in retaliation, but he did swallow most of the sudden tide. He wiped his lips afterwards, and looked up at Draco, who stared back at him, smug and remorseful and so sated that it seemed as if he could have flopped onto the pillow and gone to sleep right there.

That sight stole away Harry's irritation. "I take it you liked that," he said, and crawled up the bed to lie on the pillow beside Draco, kissing his chest on the way—which was still covered by a shirt, Harry realized. Then again, he had only been half-naked when Draco sucked him off, too. Maybe Draco had decided that their experiences should be exactly parallel.

"Yes," Draco said, and rolled over to look at him. "And I want to know who else you experimented on. The Weaselette could never have taught you to suck off a man like that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Trust you to try and ruin the mood," he said. "No one, as you well know. You're my only lover besides her. Why don't you tell me who you practiced on?"

"Because I have more discretion," Draco said, "but you don't, as you've just proved." He yawned widely and then rolled over, his arm curving around Harry's back so that he held him in place. "Right now, we're going to sleep, and then we're going to wake up and do this again."

Harry shivered absently. He felt cold, naked as he was, and some of the thoughts he'd had before were crowding into his head with more insistence now that he'd done the most important thing and given Draco his satisfaction. "What you said to Ginny—"

"Later," Draco said. He yawned again and rubbed his nose against Harry's shoulder in a gesture that made Harry catch his breath with how adorable it was. He'd never seen Draco do anything that unselfconscious before. "Later, you can give me all the scolding that my actions seem to warrant."

"But if we do this again," Harry said, still trying to defend himself and be stern, "then I'll be thinking about that instead of scolding you."

Draco opened one eye and gave him a sweet, dazed, smug look. "Yes," he said. "It's all part of my secret plan." He curled up more tightly, and then was asleep, his chest rising and falling in such a way that Harry doubted he was faking.

And there would be consequences to deal with later, Harry knew there would be, and he should still be partially angry, instead of grateful that Draco had got over his fear enough for this, and he should be righteous and noble and think of what was due to Ginny, instead of pleased that he had Draco for a lover at last…

But should and later had nothing on the pressure of soft breath against his neck and the exhaustion washing his bones. His arm fell over Draco's shoulder, and his eyes shut.

*

Draco woke up, stretched, and reached out lazily. His hands slid across cold sheets—so cold that Harry must have been gone for an hour at least.

Draco lay still for some time, trying to decide how he felt about that. Then he sat up and shook his head. Harry had a good reason for getting up. Draco was certain of that, because Harry had to know what he would face from Draco if he didn't have a good reason.

And I think he's still in the house, or he would have left me a note that he intended to depart, Draco thought, glancing around the room and satisfying himself that he hadn't overlooked a scrap of parchment. Or left a message with his house-elf. Draco, who knew that Malfoy house-elves sometimes neglected guests, had made sure that he was on good terms with Kreacher the day he arrived, and had been greeted with the elf's raptures to be serving someone who came from the Black family.

Draco pulled on his pants and trousers and used the small, dusty mirror that hung on the wall of Harry's bedroom to make sure that his hair was a ravishing mess instead of a tangled mess. Then he smirked at his reflection and closed one eye in a slow wink.

He had been worried about the control he would give up to any lover who could enchant him as thoroughly as Harry could. He'd had sex before, plenty of times, but mostly with people who were curious about him or whom he lusted after, and none of them had been able to make him shake the way Harry could with one careless glance. It was why Draco so far couldn't say that he loved Harry. So many things were going to change when he did.

But this, though Draco had no doubt it would make things change, had been nothing but pleasurable so far. And right now, he was anxious to find Harry so that they could continue making it so.

When he opened the bedroom door, he immediately understood why Harry had left. The voices of a whiny Weasel and Granger drifted up from a lower floor. Draco leaned against the banister and listened until he was sure he knew what they had come about and the kind of replies that Harry was making.

Then he lifted his head and paraded down the stairs.

Some changes he was afraid of. Some changes he was wary of. Some changes he was concerned about, because of the impact they would have on Harry rather than because of how they would affect himself.

And some changes he was going to face and court, because he was damned if they were going to keep him and Harry apart.

*

"How could you let him say those things to her, mate?"

Harry wanted to put his head in his hands and scream. Ron usually wasn't good in an argument because he jumped around from subject to subject and was easily distracted. But this time, he must have decided on the question he really wanted to know the answer to beforehand, and he just kept asking it no matter how many times Harry tried to explain the truth to him.

"I didn't know he was going to talk to her that way," Harry tried now, lifting his head and staring at both of them. Ron just scowled, but Hermione's eyes were fixed on Harry's face in a thoughtful way that he didn't like. He remembered that she'd known the moment he got back together with Ginny, the morning after they'd slept together, and the day they'd broken up, too. "Honestly."

"But why did you let him say those things?" Ron repeated. He rocked back and forth on his heels and crossed his arms, shaking his head. "You could have stopped him so easily once he started. With a Silencing Charm, if nothing else."

Harry winced. Yes, I could have. Why didn't I think of that?

But the answer didn't make him feel any better. Part of him had been pleased to watch Draco yell at Ginny. He had been so exasperated that she simply wouldn't leave him alone, and this meant she probably wouldn't come near him again, or at least not send another letter. Harry was willing to let her think that he was a horrible person if he got some peace out of the bargain.

Of course, it wouldn't look that way to the Weasleys, since Harry hadn't told even Ron about most of the letters he was getting. They would just think that he was a horrible person, full stop, and, more than that, someone who had abandoned his old friends and family for his new lover.

Harry took a deep breath. He had to deal with everything that had come out of this. It was confusing and draining and irritating, but he was willing to do that. Everyone involved was important to him, except possibly Ginny.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I am. I don't think I should have put up so little protest."

Ron nodded in satisfaction, but Hermione was still considering him with a thoughtful squint Harry knew meant trouble. "There's more than that, isn't there?" she asked. "You're sorry, but."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Ginny's been sending me letters all the time. Scolding letters, letters that told me she just wanted to be friends, letters that ignore everything that happened between us and try to recast it so that I was the one who chose to leave her instead of the other way around. I'm not going to tolerate that. I never answered any of her letters, but she was persistent anyway. And she was about to start scolding me again in Gringotts yesterday."

"She's just concerned about you, mate," Ron said, as Harry had known he would.

Harry glanced at him and raised his eyebrows. "Part of that was because you complained to her and got her involved in what should have been a private row between you and me."

Ron flushed. Hermione said, "Do you want me to tell her to stop? Maybe that would get her attention in the way that you couldn't, but not offend her the way Malfoy did."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, but I think that would drag someone else into it again. I would have kept Draco out, too," he added, as Ron opened his mouth, "but that's not an option anymore. What I want her to know is that I don't owe her anything, and her advice is nosy and unwelcome."

"But she is your friend," Ron muttered rebelliously, though Harry didn't think he was serious about it. Hermione listening to his side of the story had made Ron much more disposed to do so.

"Perhaps she thinks of me that way," Harry said. "I don't think of her that way. She hurt me badly when we broke up—well, with the reason we broke up. I don't want to listen to her or be with her anymore. I won't hurt her. I won't send her Howlers. But if she shows up and tries to badger me again, then I'll yell at her. And I give Draco permission to yell at her, too," he added defiantly.

Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I just can't believe that Malfoy gets privileges that Ginny doesn't," he muttered.

"Ginny gave up those privileges," Harry said. "I'm sorry, like I said. But I'm not going to sacrifice my life and my freedom just to please her."

"That's a bit melodramatic, Harry," Hermione said, right on cue. "Of course she isn't asking for those things."

"Isn't she?" Harry turned and glared at her. "If you'd seen some of the letters she sent me, you might change your mind."

Hermione blinked. "What was in those letters?"

"What I already told you," Harry said. "Too much 'good' advice. An attempt to retain control over my life after I had already told her that I didn't want anything to do with her. I won't let you read one," he added, because he could see the intention to ask gathering in Hermione's eyes, "because that would be letting you interfere in the situation, too. I really think this should be private. Like I said, Draco is already involved, so it'll stay that way, but I wouldn't have let him yell like that if I'd known he was going to."

"He yelled at my mother, too," Ron said. "And what had she done?"

Harry sighed in relief. It appeared they were leaving the volatile subject of Ginny behind, and that was all to the good, as far as he was concerned. "That's the part I'm most sorry for," he said. "I think that was just the Malfoy-Weasley background feud shining through, and I'm not sure how to overcome it."

"Who says it has to be overcome?" Draco's voice drawled from behind him.

Harry hid a groan with a lot of effort, and turned around. The groan came out of him anyway when he saw that Draco was naked from the waist up, but he was afraid it sounded more like a moan. Draco met his eyes and smirked, moving his head to the side slightly so that his disordered hair slid down his cheek and made him look far more tempting than he had any right to look. Harry's hands itched.

But he didn't get to think much about it, because then the row began.

*

Draco would treasure forever the looks on Weasley's and Granger's faces when he sauntered into Harry's drawing room, only too obviously having just risen from Harry's bed. Granger's mouth fell open in confusion as if she'd never heard of sex. Weasley sucked in his breath as he turned red, but he couldn't even bellow, he was so outraged.

But they paled next to the look that Harry was giving him.

This is why I have the courage to confront his friends so soon and let them know our little state of affairs, Draco thought, stepping up so that he could rest his hand on Harry's shoulder. Because he loves me, and I know that he would never let them hurt me, even if he agrees with them about my behavior sometimes.

Father was wrong. No pure-blood marriage I could make, no marriage on behalf of the family, would ever give me this kind of strength.

"I insulted them both because I felt they deserved to be insulted," he told Granger and Weasley. "You should have seen the way your sister was hanging on him, Weasley." He snarled now as he thought about it. He could only hope that the She-Weasel would refrain in the future, or he would find it difficult to control himself. "And I think I have a right to be jealous of that if anyone does." He stepped closer to Harry still, leaning his shoulder into his, dipping his head so that he was sniffing the scent from the back of Harry's neck, and never took his eyes from Weasley's face.

Weasley stepped towards them. "I'll see you dead before I see you with Harry."

There, Draco thought contentedly. Now there's no way Harry can be upset when I answer back.