And Then They Have Sex
by maudlinrose
Rating: R
Author's Note: This is a fluffy little nothing that I wrote at work yesterday because I was very bored; I know it's insubstantial and doesn't make much sense. Beta'd by manicsubbie, for which I am very grateful.
And so then they have sex, because Harry is bored, and Draco is horny, and there really isn't much else to do of an evening in Surrey.
With a great sigh, Harry takes off his tee shirt. "If you're not going to kill me, we may as well have sex." They're in the park near Privet Ave, because Harry had been out for a walk when Draco had shown up. It's after dark, so the swings hang empty and the seesaw squeaks no more. A dog-walker strolls past every few minutes, but Harry and Draco are hidden in the bushes and so aren't noticed. Harry's pale skin shines in the pieces of moonlight filtered through the leaves, and Draco's eyes widen in appreciation.
"Alrigh," Draco says, because he doesn't really trust his voice. Puberty has not been kind to young Mr. Malfoy, and although magic can get rid of acne, it can't do anything about the squeaky octave-dropping humiliation. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, but is obviously not fast enough, because Harry heaves another great sigh and does it for him. "I can undo my own fucking buttons, Potter."
"Whatever," Harry says, and kisses him. Harry reflects briefly that this should be weirder than it is, but the mood-stabilising potions Madam Pomfrey has him on without his knowledge have dulled his curiousity.
The kiss does not remain tentative for long, as Draco threads his fingers through Harry's hair and responds passionately. He hasn't gotten any since Zacharias Smith stopped going down on him sometime after Easter.
Draco's hands do not remain still for very long, curling their way down Harry's nape and then smoothing their way down Harry's back, pausing at the waistband of his jeans.
Harry breaks the kiss. "Look, if you want to put your hands down my pants, get on with it," he says, rolling his eyes.
"Impatient?" Draco asks, raising his eyebrow.
"Bored," Harry retorts.
"That'll do," Draco replies, and attacks the button and fly on Harry's jeans. Harry heaves yet another sigh and returns the favour. They start kissing again, because neither really wants to give the other a blowjob and they can't think of much else to do with their mouths.
Pants safely entangled down around their ankles, Draco clambers on top of Harry and starts wriggling vaguely downwards. Despite an almost complete lack of effort on his part, Harry finds himself getting hard, and so grabs hold of Draco's ass to stop him from moving and thrusts upwards in earnest.
The kiss muffles any noises they might be making, so even though the bushes are moving suspiciously for such a calm night, nobody disturbs them. The thrusting speeds up until Draco suddenly comes and collapses on top of Harry, a dead weight. Harry waits a few seconds impatiently before breaking the kiss and saying, "Could you...."
Draco obediently worms a hand between their bodies and jerks Harry off. Harry comes shortly after, and then sighs again. "That wasn't what I meant, but it'll do."
"What did you mean, then?" Draco asks.
"You're sort of heavy," Harry says, in a game attempt at subtlety.
"Oh," Draco says stiffly, the attempt having failed spectacularly, and they both stand up.
"No, don't worry, it was nice," Harry says reassuringly.
"Yeah," Draco replies, shifting, and pulls up his pants. "This is disgusting," he adds, grimacing at the cold come now lining his underwear.
"You liked it just before," Harry snaps, and does up his fly.
"I was desperate," Draco snaps back. "But. We could do it again sometime."
"Thanks," Harry drawls. "And, what, at school?"
"No, in bloody Azkaban, you twat."
"With your father watching?" Harry mocks. "No thanks."
"Don't talk about my father!" Draco yells, and Dudley Dursley and gang are suddenly surrounding them like a pack of especially ugly wild dogs. To the unbiased observer, the scene does look a little bit dodgy, and to Dudley, who is not unbiased, it looks positively sinful. Neither boy has his shirt on, and there is an angry bruise forming on Harry's neck, visible even in the dull light.
"Look, it's Potty and his little boyfriend," crows Dudley.
"He isn't my boyfriend," Harry says tiredly.
"Yeah," Draco elaborates. "It was just a cheap shag."
Nineteenth of June, a Saturday. Harry has nothing to do except wait for owls; his Aunt Petunia doesn't bother asking him to do much around the house anymore except the garden, and he weeded that yesterday. He spends most of the day in his room, flicking through his textbooks and staring at the ceiling.
When he goes down for dinner, Aunt Petunia looks at him, concerned, for a moment, before shoving baked beans on toast in front of him.
"I'm going out with the guys," Dudley announces.
"Alright, dear," Aunt Petunia replies. "But do be careful - there are bad people out at night."
"Oh, mum!" Dudley exclaims.
"You can go out for a walk as well, boy," Uncle Vernon says, and Harry nods around a mouthful of beans. A package of sleeping potions had arrived from Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore last week, and since then Harry has found himself much more at peace with the world.
Sirius' death still bothers him, but the guilt doesn't keep him up at night anymore. Harry doesn't think to question exactly what the sleeping potions contain, even though none have ever worked this well before.
So, after doing the dishes, Harry puts his wand in its holster hidden imperfectly under the hem of his tee shirt, and goes for his walk. The sun has almost set, and the streetlights flicker on just as Harry turns into the park.
When a hand comes out from a bush and pulls him into a hidden grove, he is suprised but not overly so. It is Draco Malfoy, of course, and he is holding his wand in his other hand and looking angry. "Malfoy!" Harry says.
"I'm going to kill you, Potter," Malfoy says angrily. "This is my revenge for what you did to my father!"
Harry stares at him for a minute. "Okay," he replies.
"Okay?" Malfoy says increduously. "What do you mean, okay?"
"Go on, then. But you'll get caught and they'll send you to jail," Harry says reasonably.
"But with you dead the Dark Lord will win, and I'll get out," Draco counters.
"Yeah, but he'll probably be really mad with you for killing me. I think he wants to do it himself," Harry argues.
"... Good point...." Draco finally says, and thinks to himself that there's something really sexy about a person who knows how to argue. That isn't how it ends, either. It ends like this:
"That's sick!" cries Piers Polkiss.
"Are you gay, Harry?" Dudley asks nervously.
"No," Harry says. "What, are you scared I want your fine, fine ass?"
"You freak, Potter, that's disgusting," Draco sneers. "Besides, isn't that your cousin?"
"Yes!" Harry shouts. "Not that you have anything to say about that."
"Hey, my mother joined Witches Against Incest shortly after I was born!" Draco says defensively.
Harry just stares at him blankly.
"Yeah, you're sick, I'm telling mum!" Dudley taunts, feeling that he's lost control over the encounter.
"Oh, piss off," Harry replies. "Draco's dad is an evil wizard and he'll kill you if you annoy Draco," he continues.
"He knows fifteen ways to remove a person's spleen," Draco says proudly. "He's taught me some of them."
Dudley and friends, giving up, back slowly away.
"God, I hate him," Harry comments.
"Why bother?" Draco asks. "He's just some dumb ugly Muggle."
"You hate me, and I've done far less to you than he's done to me," Harry says.
"Yeah, but," Draco says, shuffling his feet. "You've always been worth hating."
Harry smiles.
THE END