A/N: Thank you again for the reviews, favs and alerts! Here's the next chapter. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate this holiday.

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"I will," Harry replied, his eyes rich with promise. He lowered Albus onto the sheets before slipping off the bed to kneel at its side.

"Come here, son."

Shivering with anticipation, Albus eagerly shrugged off his shirt and shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, his slender legs on either side of those broad shoulders. He leaned back on straightened arms and watched as those clever fingers undid his jeans button and zipper before freeing his erection from the confines of his underwear.

His father was always gentle, always careful. It made Albus melt inside, knowing there was nothing to fear from him, not even last Christmas Eve after they had flooed back to Grimmauld Place.

Harry and Albus embraced for a long while in the kitchen. When Harry drew back and raised Albus' face to his, the calm acceptance in those innocent eyes proved to be his undoing. They exchanged fervent kisses and shaky words of mutual need, the sexual attraction between them flaring, leaving cheeks flushed and bodies humming with desire.

As soon as Harry switched on the oven, set the timer and placed the marinated leg of lamb inside, he washed his hands and turned to his son. Without a word, he held out his arms.

Albus buried his face in his father's neck as he was carried upstairs in those strong, capable arms. He sat on his parents' bed, hugging his knees and watching Harry cast locking and silencing spells at the door.

The finality of those spells made Albus gulp, knowing this was wrong, knowing they shouldn't proceed. Part of him even hoped they wouldn't... but it was only a tiny, tiny part. The rest of him was eager to experience that shocking bliss once more. He had been worn out from struggling in the bathtub when his father stroked him to completion yesterday afternoon, but he still remembered the quivering tension, the sweet throbbing ache between his legs, the sense of something building and building inside him, waiting to be set free.

When it did... ah, it was sublime!

Albus knew what it was from reading, and from overhearing some of the older boys' talk at Hogwarts. He also knew how he could go about achieving it, but his body hadn't stirred at the knowledge then and he wasn't curious enough to experiment. He wanted it now, but not on his own. He wanted to share it with his father, to experience it at the hands of the man who had brought him up all these years.

"Al... you must be sure," Harry warned as he sat down next to his son. His face was pale, his eyes dark with both desire and guilt behind the wire rimmed glasses.

Albus nodded without hesitation. His heart was beating furiously in his chest and yes, he was nervous, but he was also very sure.

"I am, dad. Touch me there like... like you did yesterday," he whispered, his cheeks still hot.

Harry exhaled, shoulders slumping and eyes closing briefly in resignation. When they next opened, they gleamed with intent.

"You have to promise me something first."

Albus did, repeating each word his father spoke. He knew he was sealing both their fates, but it was hard to care much when Harry took him in his arms again after casting a warming charm around the bed and on the sheets.

Fully aware this time, Albus clung to him and enjoyed each sweet kiss and each stolen caress, almost unaware of his jumper, shirt and undershirt being removed. He reveled in each touch as much as he thrilled to the small smile on his father's lips.

Those same lips closing over his nipple had him crying out, surprised at the electrifying tingles that spread throughout his body. He dug his fingers into Harry's arms, squeezing his eyes shut and writhing against that mouth, moaning when his other nipple was similarly adored.

Feeling himself lifted and placed against the pillows, Albus opened his eyes, blushing deeper when his jeans and underwear were tugged off. A tendril of unease wound through his stomach at the sight of the man looming over him, but when his father smiled, Albus relaxed against the pillows.

"I'm going to touch you, Al, but not with my fingers," Harry promised, his eyes a deep, rich green, his lips quirked in a mischievous smile. He slid a pillow under his son's slender hips, elevating them a couple of inches. "It won't hurt. It will just feel very good, I promise."

Albus nodded, his heart hammering in his chest as his father held his thighs spread and his hips down. Then the dark head bent... and Albus tumbled into a whole new world of bliss, gasping sharply when Harry took him in his mouth and crying out when the gentle suckling started.

Fingers gripping the pillows and toes curling into the sheets, Albus almost hyperventilated, unable to breathe, let alone think. He shook and panted, his thighs quivering, that same ache building and growing inside him again. Too fast, he – he couldn't hold it back!

He tried wriggling backwards, but there was no room. Dragging more air into his lungs, he opened his mouth to voice a protest... and by then it was too late. A wave of white hot pleasure raced through him and he screamed in rapture instead, his body jerking as he came hard inside his father's mouth, almost blacking out from the sheer strength of his orgasm.

When Albus finally opened his eyes, he found himself nestled against Harry's chest with those strong arms around his waist and warm lips pressed to his forehead. He sighed in pure satisfaction, still trembling and replete with bliss...

"Ready, Al?"

Jerked out of his memories, Albus opened his eyes and nodded. He sucked in a sharp breath as Harry dipped his head and took him in, that skillful mouth engulfing his throbbing flesh.

It felt every bit as good as that very first time.

To be continued.

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