Ok, this one can be yours, MirrorFlower and DarkWind. Are you two people? Or one who couldn't decide on a name? What's your story I wonder …
When Harry finally opened his eyes, it was to see his tears mirrored on Draco's cheek and before he could even open his mouth, the warm body torn itself from his arms.
"Draco wait!" Harry called, desperate to keep hold of his fragile love.
"Now you know," Draco said brokenly, facing away from Harry, his pale hand clutching the doorframe, and Harry couldn't decide whether he was stopping himself from running away, or stopping himself from running back to Harry. "I knew it couldn't last Harry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."
"Draco." Harry said gently, moving up to stand behind him and hovering his hand above the trembling shoulder.
"Don't touch me, Harry. I'm not clean." Draco spat.
"I'm sorry Draco."
"What?" Draco said, shocked, spinning round and staring at Harry's devastated face.
"I'm so sorry little one. I should have known, I should have asked. How could I have touched you like that when he hurt you? You must hate me. I … I will never hurt you again Draco, I promise. Please don't leave me." Harry gripped Draco's shoulders tightly as he put all the love and pain he was feeling into his words and gaze.
Draco was speechless. He had been so scared that Harry would hate him and be disgusted that he had allowed himself to be so violated by his worst enemy. But he couldn't speak yet, as Harry was still speaking, almost incoherent in his panic.
"You were calling for me and I wasn't there. I should have been there for you, I should have seen it. When did this happen Draco? How long?"
"A year." Draco said hoarsely, not quite daring to meet Harry's eyes. Even if the anger wasn't directed at him, Draco didn't think he would survive if he saw his Harry's beautiful eyes turned cold in rage.
But somehow, Harry melted into Draco and almost collapsed on him, pulling his lithe lover into his embrace and clinging onto him for dear life, tears soaking his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He mumbled, almost like a mantra.
They sank to the floor, still entwined in each other and sobbing in equal measures.
Hours later and the two were still curled around each other, but now they were back in their bed and for once it was Draco that was whispering words of comfort into his Sire's ear. Telling Harry about his past abuse had almost been cathartic for Draco. Since Voldemort's death he had slowly pieced himself back together and was now stronger because of it. But he had never let himself cry, never let himself show weakness, because no one else would help him.
But now he had Harry, and Harry would help him. Harry would save him. If he could save Harry.
Over the next fortnight, the pair grew closer and closer. Draco explored the castle and Harry delighted in showing him all the secret passages and hidden treasures.
They still talked about what had happened to Draco, and Harry didn't think he would ever get over the guilt he felt whenever he imagined a scared boy screaming his name, but they were slowly healing each other. Draco was still amazed that Harry wanted to stay with him, but even he couldn't deny the love that shone from the emerald eyes.
The only thing that marred Draco's perfect world was how hesitant Harry was to touch him now. His Sire seemed to think that just because one awful man had hurt him, he couldn't enjoy a tangle between the sheets. The truth was, the only thing Draco wanted most in the world was for Harry to claim him and take him as his Sire. But every time Draco tried to get Harry to touch him like that Harry would shy away and make some feeble excuse about why he couldn't do that tonight.
The only time Draco's submissive side did feel satisfied was when, every night, Harry allowed him to drink from his Sire's blood. The nature of their bond compelled Harry to hold Draco tightly and direct his thirsty mouth to his throbbing vein. The act was so intimate and primal that Draco never failed to get hard, so hard that he came from just the brush of the soft sheets against his member. But still Harry wouldn't touch him, no matter how he pleaded.
One night, Draco had had enough. Before dinner, he quickly stripped and showered, rubbing shampoo then conditioner through his hair and slathering himself in the body wash that Harry had once said he liked. Then he towelled himself off, tousling his hair and leaving it to dry in the air. He knew Harry liked him natural, without gel, his hair falling over his eyes. He said it was cute.
By the time Harry called him for dinner, he was ready and, gathering all his courage, he left the bathroom and wandered to the dining room wearing nothing at all. The flickering flames in the torches glanced off his skin and gave him an almost ethereal glow. When he entered the room where Harry was waiting, he had to suppress a giggle when he heard Harry's gasp.
"Draco…what are you…" Harry said, his voice a mix of wonder, arousal and anger.
"What?" Draco said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I don't know what's gotten into you Potter. Pick your jaw up off the floor, your tonsils really aren't very appetising." Draco smirked, and for a second he felt like the old Malfoy.
Harry shut his mouth then, confusion winning out for now, but behind his lips, a strange rage was building. Draco shouldn't be speaking to him like that. Harry was his Sire, and Draco couldn't speak to his Sire like that. And why was he strutting around naked anyway? Remembering how Voldemort had treated Draco, and how Harry would never do anything to equate himself to that man in Draco's eyes, Harry squashed his anger and ate his food quickly, trying to stop himself from entering a lust filled trance whenever he looked at Draco.
When they had finished, Draco dumped his plate in the sink and walked away, swaying his hips enticingly, so much so that Harry forgot that it was Draco's turn to do the dishes.
When he had finished doing the washing up, Harry stalked into their bedroom, intending to talk to Draco, but his blonde lover wasn't there. Instead, there was a black box sitting prominently on the bed. It was one of the things that Draco had brought from his flat, one of the mysterious things he had hidden form Harry.
Curiosity overwhelmed him and he lifted the lid. What he saw inside almost made him drop the lid. The box was filled with black lace, some very indecent looking black lace. When Harry pulled the lace aside, he saw, lying underneath the lace was an eyeliner pencil and a large, thick, black vibrator, with a wireless remote. And underneath that, some photographs.
At first, he didn't recognise the man wearing black eyeliner, black lace, and almost nothing else. Then he connected the wizarding photograph and the lace his fingers were still running themselves through.
Draco.
It was Draco in the photographs.
He shuffled through the photos and soon the vibrator appeared.
Harry was so hard. And it was all Draco's fault. Suddenly something inside him clicked, and a more primal part of him took over. He stalked to the library, pulling Draco away from what he was reading and carrying him up to the bedroom, flinging him onto the huge bed and standing over him.
Any doubts he had about whether Draco wanted this were squashed by the lust he saw in his full blown pupils.
"My, my." Draco drawled, still trying to sound superior, "what has gotten into you."
"Shut up," Harry snarled, and Draco gasped, biting his lip seductively. "I'm tired of your attitude, little one. It is time I put that pretty mouth of yours to better use." Harry started stripping himself of his clothing slowly, Draco's greedy gaze devouring every inch of sun kissed skin that was revealed.
Harry trailed his fingers over his own skin, wrapping his fist around his already leaking cock and stroking himself slowly. Draco moaned, but he didn't move from where Harry had placed him.
"Such a good boy", Harry crooned, placing his hand on the back of Draco's neck and pulling him gently to his cock, moaning when Draco tentatively licked the head. He kept his hand on the back of Draco's neck, but made sure not to force him to swallow him, whatever Draco said, Harry wouldn't put Draco through that again.
But to his surprise, and delight, Draco dove over Harry's cock, engulfing him in hot, wet heat and bobbing quickly. "Uh, Draco…Fuck…Fuck…Fuuuckk…"
When Harry fell off the knife edge of control, Draco's eyes closed in ecstasy, and he made sure to swallow every drop like it was the most precious nectar. Soon, Harry collapsed onto the bed, and Draco crawled into his side, curling up with his head on his chest. Harry could almost hear him purring in contentment.
"So Draco," Harry said, reaching over to the bedside table and picking up the pile of photographs, "tell me about these."
"Oh," Draco said, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing…"
"Draco." Harry growled lowly.
"Okay! Okay! It was when I was most useless after the war, I was miserable and Pansy said it was because I refused to hook up with anyone who wasn't you, plus I was behind on my rent. She wouldn't leave me alone, so I said I'd take those pictures and, if things got desperate, I'd send them in to one of the more obscure wizard-on-wizard magazines. She said that if I did, not only would I have work for as long as I wanted it, but all the closet poofs in the wizarding world be knocking down my door to have a piece of me."
"And was that what you wanted?"
"No! That's why I didn't send them in. I was never going to actually do it. But I thought that maybe I could … I don't know … Send them to you, maybe? I wasn't very rational at the time, but I thought that if you ever came back, you might not want me for me, but if you saw me like that, maybe you'd want me for that."
"Well I gotta tell you, it would have worked. Not that I don't love you for you, but these are the hottest damn things I have ever seen, little one."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Well I was imagining you the whole time."
"Really?"
"Really." Draco said, biting his lip.
"You have no idea how sexy that is Draco," Harry groaned.
Draco took the photos from Harry and quickly found one that was sure to be Harry's favourite. It showed him slowly jerking off whilst biting his lip and staring heatedly at the camera. When he held it up for Harry, the brunette moaned louder and gripped Draco's arse, pulling him on top of him and almost crushing the photographs between them.
When their erections touched they both lost their breath, and Draco couldn't help rutting against his Sire. Harry laughed, and said "Go on, little one, but if you come, I'll be forced to punish you."
Draco went limp in desire and lay on top of Harry's hard body, content to feel their hot skin sliding against each other, but soon the pleasure was too much and he gasped out, "please Sire, please…please…"
"What do you want, little one?" Harry asked, amused at how desperate he could make Draco.
"I … I need you … please Sire …. Please take me …"
"Alright, since you asked so nicely."
Harry wandlessly slicked the inside of his lover and pushed a single finger into his hole, quickly preparing him before lining up his erection and thrusting himself inside, simultaneously biting down on his neck, drawing a long, loud scream from Draco that may or may not have resembled Harry's name.
He then started a punishing rhythm of one long, slow thrust then a triple of quick, hard thrusts. Within moments Draco was shaking and moaning uncontrollably, his whole being focused on the pleasure he was receiving, and trying not to come.
It was when his eyes started leaking tears with the effort of restraining himself that Harry whispered those three magic words into his ear, "come for me."
So he did. Explosively.
When he came to, he could barely move his limbs, and it was only when Harry slid out of him that he realised his Sire had come inside him. With a monumental effort, he rolled over and crushed himself against Harry's side.
"Little one, I know you want to sleep, but you have to feed." Harry said gently, urging Draco's mouth up to press against his neck.
"Don't wanna," Draco moaned sleepily.
"Oh really?" Harry said, almost laughing because he could feel Draco's delicate fangs pressing against his jugular. "Come on, little one, feed, or you'll grow weak."
Very slowly, Draco raised his head, supported by Harry's hand and bit into his Sire's neck. If he hadn't just had the orgasm of a life time, he'd have been rock hard. As it was, he drank lazily until his fangs retracted, telling him he had had enough. Then Harry gathered him closer and rocked him to sleep, humming some muggle lullaby as he kissed his hair.
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