A/N As some of you know, I was thinking about pulling this fic from here and posting on livejournal only, once the whole thing is done. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and I hope you continue to do so. It helps me write faster and gives me confidence that you're actually reading something you like. I will continue to post here. I predict two more chapters till it's complete.
Part of the reason I wanted to post this as a whole piece instead of as a work in progress is because I sometimes make edits later on. This chapter is an example of where that happened. I probably won't ever have an insertion this big again in the timeline, but I apologize for doing that to you in this chapter. Maybe you won't even notice. Cheers and thank you, again!
That night Harry fell asleep thinking about Malfoy- about the war and choices and dreamed vividly.
He felt Voldemort's breath on his skin, prickling like a million pins into his neck, his arms, making the hair stand on end and the feeling of dread course through his veins like ice. He was wheezing in quick, shallow breaths that hurt and burned his throat and tasted of ash. His lungs were blocks of lead that wouldn't fill, only weighed him down. Clutching at his chest, his hands were useless too, they were heavy and clumsy and crawled over the skin like fat spiders.
He was afraid. A dark, cowardly part of him thought he should just run away. His pulse beat wildly out of his neck, scratching, clawing at the skin to get out. And the noises, like screeching and crying and the sound of metal grinding on metal. Faces flashed, but backwards. Fred's ashen face and Mrs. Weasley's wet cheek pressed into it. The broken look in Snape's eyes before they closed. Dobby's lone grave in the cold sand. Malfoy's ugly sobs echoing across the bathroom tile. Sirius falling backwards, then Dumbledore. Cedric's limp body in his hands and Harry aching heart stopped. It was like everything in the world hung by a thread, paused in motion. Time stood still like when a Horcrux was destroyed.
Harry woke up to his own gulping breaths and his blankets tangled like vices around his legs. His bedclothes were damp and clinging to him like a second skin. Nightmares hadn't been nearly this bad in a long time and he was still shaking when he fumbled for his alarm clock. It wasn't even midnight.
He rested against the headboard and felt the hard wood press his shirt soaked with cold sweat into his skin. He found himself thinking about Malfoy again and wondered if he ever had nightmares like this. Perhaps his life had been a nightmare, confined to a dingy bathroom and Moaning Myrtle. Malfoy had been so sure that he had no choice during the war. It was odd; at the time, Harry knew he had choices but felt like they had all been made for him. It made things easier. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't imagine having to choose between protecting the people he loved and standing up for what he believed in- they had always been two sides of the same coin. He recalled Malfoy's wretched sobs that seemed to tear from his chest, the fearful reluctance in his face when looking at Harry at the Manor, at Hogwarts. He had always taken it for cowardice. It still was- though Harry suddenly felt very grateful that the only thing he inherited from his parents were his mother's eyes and his father's recklessness. Malfoy had inherited his fathers' guilt.
Harry was still thinking about him when he drifted off, still sitting up against the headboard with his blankets curled at his feet.
That Friday, Ginny brought her new boyfriend to dinner. Ron seemed surprised, but shook his hand anyway. She introduced him but Harry didn't hear his name. Harry was staring as he took the empty seat next to George that had once been Fred's.
Harry had never seen Ginny so happy, even when they were dating. Her cheeks were flushed with it, the curve of her mouth was meant for it. Her whole face seemed to glow and she tucked a copper lock of hair behind her ear, coyly, as she explained to Hermione how they first met. She wet her lips as she spoke, freckles splattered like cinnamon across her rosy cheeks that were rounded in a soft smile. A part of Harry felt horribly inadequate and he wondered dimly if he could ever make anyone that happy. He hoped so.
Mrs. Weasley asked Harry about Teddy and Harry was happy for a change of subject. But he still saw Ginny whispering into the boy's ear across the table and saw the way he smiled, too, and squeezed her hand. Her small body was turned into him, angled even while sitting in her chair.
But mostly, Harry could feel everyone watching him nervously, to see if he was okay. He gritted his teeth and was sure it was only awkward because they seemed to think it should be. In an attempt to include him, Harry somehow got talked into showing the boyfriend around the Ministry (he was thinking about Auror training someday). Ginny volunteered information about Harry's quidditch days and the boyfriend suggested Harry join them and his mates for an after-dinner game next week (they played Friday nights).
He smiled at Harry expectantly.
"If I'm not too busy with work," Harry said politely.
.
Harry and Ginny washed the dishes together afterwards. She hummed happily to herself as she sunk her hands into the soapy water, splashing the floor and Harry, too.
"He's nice," Harry said, reaching for a towel.
"You really think so?" Ginny asked, biting her lip as she looked at him. Her eyes were large on her pretty face and her hands were soapy on her dress, soaking through.
"Sure," Harry agreed, handing her the towel.
"Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me," she said and smiled at him.
He barely heard her say, over the sounds of dishes clacking and the running water, "I hope you move on, too."
As Harry was leaving, the boyfriend slapped a hand to his back and reminded him to bring his quidditch gear for next week. And then asked solemnly, if it was quite alright, to have a look at Harry's scar.
Next Thursday came faster than Harry would have liked.
He came home late from work (which was beginning to become a regular thing, he noticed) and was exhausted from an attempted robbery and chase across the Muggle part of London. His muscles ached-the chase was on foot- and his robes and trousers, sticky with sweat, clung to his underarms and crotch uncomfortably. He shook out his robes by the collar to air himself, cooling his heated flesh, then reached into his pants to peel his cock from the fabric bunched up against it. His cock was soft and tingled pleasantly when he touched it but it was too hot to even stand still, let alone wank. Still, the temptation was there and his thoughts went to Malfoy's tight body and the inside of his mouth. The sharp curve of his neck and the softer curve of his cock. Harry had stopped questioning what it meant a long time ago, given up, and wanked over it since then. But today, today it was definitely too hot for that.
The roots of his hair were wet and smelled of sweat and his glasses kept slipping from his nose. He wiped his face on a dish towel and leaned on the countertop in his kitchen with both hands.
He thought about dinner at the Burrow the next day and sighed.
"I hope you move on, too," Ginny had said.
I have moved on! Harry thought stubbornly. I've been with other people, too.
Though he didn't know if Malfoy counted. He didn't know what Malfoy counted as.
He bent to open the fridge and grimaced at the pain shooting down his thighs. He pulled out a greasy paper bag of fish and chips and grimaced again when he straightened up.
He wasn't sure if he was up for a game of quidditch the next day, not in this condition. He hadn't even flown since-
Malfoy.
This was ridiculous. If he thought about Malfoy so much, then he might as well-
Harry wiped his hands on his robes and grabbed a quill and parchment from a drawer. He penned a letter and sent it off with an owl.
.
Hey,
Do you want to save my life?
-Harry
.
His owl came back before Harry had even finished eating.
.
Not particularly, no.
-Draco
.
Harry grinned. Arse. He wrote back.
.
I need an excuse to skip dinner at Ron's tomorrow. Do you want to get another drink?
-Harry
.
His owl came back quickly, again. Harry still hadn't changed out of his robes. He didn't want to miss the response. He hadn't even left the room and had been tinkering with the stove he never used. The bird hooted at Harry and he stroked his feathers with a finger as he read the note.
.
Not if it goes the same way as last time.
-Draco
.
Harry wrote back.
.
I thought leaves in your hair was a good look.
-Harry
.
I should've left you to the wolves.
Unfortunately for you, I have a date with my mother at the theatre. Perhaps next time.
-Draco
.
Harry tossed the note in the wastebasket and smiled at the thought of Malfoy spending time with his mother. He had taken Harry's suggestion.
Harry gave the owl a treat and went to his storage closet to dig out his quidditch gear. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
Harry waited till next week to owl again.
.
Tomorrow is Friday. Are we on?
-Harry
.
I don't know if I want to be seen with you in public. I stopped doing charity events years ago.
-Draco
.
You are the most annoying person I've ever met.
-Harry
.
Is what people must tell you all the time, I'm sure.
-Draco
.
Yeah, about you.
-Harry
.
There was a delay between the letters.
.
I'll think about it.
-Draco
.
Upon reading the last one, Harry distinctly thought his chest had no right to feel that light.
"Does your person have a hat?" Harry shouted across the hall.
"No," Ron said.
Harry flipped all the faces down that had a hat on his Guess Who? board. Slow day at the office.
"Is your man blonde?" Ron asked.
Harry felt himself flush lightly at the thought of seeing Malfoy tonight. His character wasn't blonde, though. "No," he said.
Ron made a disgruntled noise and he heard clacking of flipped faces from his office.
"Does your person have a moustache?" Harry ventured.
"No. Does your man have a pointy nose?"
Harry felt himself flush again. "No," he answered weakly. "Does yours have brown hair?"
"Yes!" Ron said, annoyed. "Did you see my card, Harry?"
"No. How could I have? I'm all the way over here."
"I guess. By the way, Mum wants to know what you want to eat for dinner."
"Oh, I can't come to dinner tonight," Harry said quickly, trying his best to sound apologetic. He had been waiting for the right moment to tell him.
"What?" Ron asked, his surprise apparent even though Harry couldn't see his face. He heard the wheels of Ron's chair squeal as he stood up.
"Sorry, I can't make it. Tell your mom I said hello for me."
After a bout of silence, Ron said suspiciously, "Do you have a date, Harry?"
"No," Harry said cautiously. He wasn't entirely sure if Malfoy's answer had been a yes. And even if he had meant yes, it certainly wasn't a date.
"I knew it! Who is it?" Ron asked, excitedly. His face appeared in the doorway and he grinned loftily at Harry. "It is that fox at the front desk, Lisa? She's had an eye on you for ages."
"I'm not-" Harry started, horrified. He didn't even know who Ron was talking about.
The grin evaporated off Ron's face. "Blimey, it's not that bint from Regulation and Control, is it? Because that is not on, Harry. She looks like a man."
"No!" Harry nearly shouted, definitely red in the face by now, "I don't have a date! I just -er-have something to do tonight, that's all."
"Well, alright," Ron said, reluctantly. "But seriously, if its Lisa..."
"It's not Lisa!"
"Have you finished thinking about it?" Harry asked. He had waited in the Ministry atrium for the last hour waiting for Malfoy to come out of the lift. When he did, Malfoy looked shocked to see him.
"Do you seriously have nothing better to do?" Malfoy asked, trying his best to look peeved.
"Nope."
"How long have you been here?"
"Not long," Harry lied.
Malfoy hesitated and Harry noticed he looked brighter today somehow. The grey circles around his eyes were lifted and his face had lost the wary shadow that Harry had just accepted to be the norm. Malfoy rocked back on his heel as he considered.
"Where did you want to go?" Malfoy said eventually. "The Leaky Cauldron?"
"My place, actually," Harry answered. "I changed my mind."
Malfoy looked like he was going to protest and Harry added, "I want to show you something."
"I'm not staying long," Malfoy warned.
Harry grinned at the subtle "Yes."
.
"I can't believe you live here alone," Malfoy murmured over his cup of tea. His fingers tapped the sides of his cup, mouth pursed in thought. The falling dusk glazed Malfoy's face amber and it was stranger still for Harry to see Malfoy in his kitchen at all, turning down milk but not sugar. Kreacher was creeping about like he didn't quite know what to do with himself.
"You live alone in your Manor," Harry pointed out, taking a sip of his tea and nearly scalding his tongue.
"Not alone. I have Mother." Malfoy frowned as he cradled the cup in his hands, warming them though it was humid outside. "It is nice to have different company for a change though, I suppose. When I was a child, I only had Crabbe and Goyle." His voice faltered on Crabbe's name for only a split second but Harry heard it anyway.
"It's hard to imagine them as playmates," Harry said. Instead of bodyguards, he meant.
"We would play hide and seek and the two oafs would hide behind a flagpole, as if I couldn't see their fat arses."
Harry smiled and had a ridiculous image of a very tiny, very angry, very pointy Malfoy berating the two larger boys as they held each other in fear. He couldn't imagine it any other way.
Malfoy grinned and went on, "Once, Goyle's got into his sisters' closet and came out in these short-"
"Ugh, stop! Stop!" Harry held a hand up, caught between horror and laughter. "Ugh, thanks Malfoy, I'm going to have nightmares for weeks," Harry moaned.
Malfoy looked amused and a soft smile played on his lips. The grey of his eyes had flecks of sun in it and Harry thought it made them look softer, somehow. Harry thought he liked Malfoy like this, open like this.
"Do you miss him?" Harry asked softly.
"Who, Crabbe?"
"Yeah."
"Yes."
"Even after-"
"Yes," Malfoy said again, more forcefully this time. "He was one of my oldest friends. You can't just forget about them when they've gone."
Harry remembered Malfoy calling out for Crabbe, even after the flames had eaten everything away in the Room of Requirement and the doors had long shut behind them. He also remembered Crabbe telling Malfoy, just moments before, that he and his father were finished as far as he was concerned. Harry didn't mention it. Though he did think that Malfoy had a strange idea of loyalty.
"You have horrible ideas for conversation starters," Malfoy said, grimly.
Harry smiled wrly.
The sound of children playing in the street drifted in through the open windows along with the smell of London, pungent like dusty metal and hot sewer. The sun finished flowing over the horizon and the last drips of orange were runny between the clouds like an egg's yolk. Harry always missed this time of the day to the television and take out. This was something new.
Someone was playing the radio and the mellow song filtered in like a lazy summer. It reminded him of the mornings Aunt Petunia left the radio on in the kitchen when she, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon left for Sunday breakfast and the whole house was Harry's. Alone used to mean freedom. As soon as the door shut, Harry would dance to the music and yell at the top of his lungs from the top of the stairs. Setting his tea down, Harry looked outside to see if he could tell which house the music was coming from, squinting in the fading light. He couldn't. He turned back to Malfoy.
"I didn't really have friends when I was a child," Harry said.
"Doesn't surprise me one bit," Malfoy returned lightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm surprised you have friends now."
Harry rolled his eyes. "It was hard to make friends when you lived in a cupboard." He was certain most of the Wizarding world was well acquainted with his past by now.
"You've certainly upgraded since then. A grim, mouldy place with batshit portraits of the elderly and a charmingly bizarre decor," Malfoy gestured to a strange gargoyle that hung upside down from the ceiling that Harry had never noticed before, "I'd say you're moving up in the world, Potter."
Harry gave a wary smile. "I still get lonely, though." He was still alone, but it didn't feel a thing like freedom. He suddenly felt very out of place. This isn't where he thought he would be, if he had ever given thought to where he'd end up when he was a boy. Briefly, he had considered giving Malfoy a tour before realizing he was only really familiar with the living room and the bedroom.
"You could find a girlfriend to occupy your time," Malfoy suggested, pointedly.
"I'm not looking for a girlfriend," Harry said firmly.
Malfoy paused, lips parted as if he was going to say something but changed his mind. Harry's eyes fell on them. They were still chapped and looked honeyed in the light. Malfoy licked his lips and Harry's eyes shot up, startled. Malfoy was looking at him curiously. It felt extremely hot in the kitchen, but Harry had just heated the kettle after all. His cheeks burned with it. Harry's head felt light and he sat up straight to shift the weight.
"Is dinner with Weasley that unbearable?" Malfoy said finally, breaking the silence.
"You have no idea," Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit.
"I told you from the start you shouldn't be friends with him."
Harry laughed despite himself. "You were a horrible child."
"I was not!" Malfoy said crossly. "You were just as bad as me, anyway. Always breaking the rules and getting away with it, too."
"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully. "I was supposed to be Slytherin, you know."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?"
"I kept thinking not Slytherin, not Slytherin. And then I got sorted into Gryffindor, instead."
"Well, that's a tragedy. We might have been friends," Malfoy sniffed.
"I think I liked you better as an enemy anyway," Harry said, grinning.
Malfoy smirked and Harry's grin widened.
"Come on, it's upstairs," he said.
.
The dust in the Black attic drifted and caught in the light that filtered in through cracks in the roof. Doxies bounced in the air and around the two men huddled like little boys around a wooden trunk. Harry swatted one away with a careless hand.
"I put it away after Sirius died," Harry explained, opening the lid with a creak.
"Put what away?" Malfoy asked, holding the collar of his robe up to his nose as more dust rose form the trunk. He squinted at the cloth Harry had unearthed from the darkness. The lone window was coated with dust and the glass was ribbed so that the only thing Harry could make out was a crinkled, paper moon.
"Lumos!" Malfoy said, muffled, and his wand expelled a bright light that startled Harry and the doxies, too.
"You're using it!" Harry noticed, glancing at Malfoy's old wand in his hand.
"I am. What's in there?"
Harry unfolded the green velvet cloth and blew on the contents. Dust flew up into their faces and the curdled smell of mould and dampness filled his nostrils. Malfoy drew back but held his wand up to illuminate Harry's hands.
"It's a two-way mirror," Harry said. "Well, parts of it."
Malfoy stepped closer with his wand and Harry saw his eyes rake over one whole mirror and broken shards of a second one.
"One's shattered," Malfoy said.
"Yeah, I broke it when I was mad once." Harry was assaulted again by the memory of Sirius falling through the veil. Followed by the rage and hurt he felt when he smashed it. He shook his head but the searing heat that was crawling up his neck didn't dissipate.
"Seven years of bad luck, Potter."
"Try twenty four years of bad luck with occasional dumb luck," Harry said bitterly. He felt the guilt knotting deep and keen in his gut.
"Oh, shut up. Are you listening to yourself?" Malfoy said incredulously.
"My life isn't exactly a fairy tale, Malfoy!" Harry snapped angrily, surprising both him and Malfoy, who opened his mouth and then closed it. When he opened it again, his lip was curling back.
"I beg your pardon, I thought I was talking to Harry Potter for a moment. He's a hero, perhaps you've heard of him? Fame, fortune, and a heart of gold. The stuffs dreams are made of," Malfoy's voice was dripping in sarcasm.
Harry felt himself getting hot with anger, claustrophobic in this stuffy attic, and wanted to smash the mirrors all over again. Malfoy could still do it to him, even now. Get under his skin, piss him off before he even opened his mouth and doubly so once he did. "Shut up, Malfoy! You don't know what you're talking about. Everyone I cared about died on me. It was my fault, and I have to live with it."
"Last I recall, Weasley and Granger are doing just fine."
"I'm not talking about them!"
"What more do you need?" Malfoy was bristling. His eyes were sharp and clear and turbulent.
"You have family," Harry said sharply. Part of him felt bad for thinking his best friends weren't enough. The other part didn't care.
"Yes, a broken one. Most people don't want anything to do with a Malfoy these days. Speaking of living with guilt."
"I-" Harry fell quiet. The wandlight leaked weakly through the green weave between Harry's fingers and scattered in pinpricks of light onto Harry's robes.
"A family isn't some magical cure to what's wrong with your life. Merlin, you're so simple minded!" Malfoy fists were clenched.
"It's not just that!" Harry scowled. "So many people died for me."
"And lot of people didn't. You saved them. Unless you've forgotten already."
"You don't know what it was like," Harry said flatly.
"What what was like?" Malfoy demanded.
"What would have happened if I had lost the battle."
Malfoy sneered. "You didn't, now did you? I don't know if you've noticed, but the war is over. Gods, Potter, you need to move on. "
"I hope you move on, too." Ginny said.
Malfoy looked at the mirrors in Harry's hand again, "If you're done indulging your stupid, misguided guilt complex, I would like to know what this is."
Harry was breathing heavily. They stood in silence in the thick air. The sky was dark and Malfoy looked pale in the moonlight. The rain-stained wood of the walls around them creaked in the wind. The planks were worn and groaned under the sagging roof, but Harry barely heard it. Even with the starlight dripping through the cracks in the rafters and Malfoy's wand shining bright, it was hard to see anything but Malfoy's face.
"They were my godfather's and my father's mirrors," Harry said, surprised at how calm his voice sounded to himself when he could still feel his pulse pounding in his ears and his blood rushing in his veins. The sneer had vanished from Malfoy's face and was replaced with a frown. He was looking at Harry like he didn't understand.
"Your father's?" he repeated.
"Yes," Harry continued, "He and Sirius would use it to communicate with each other. You look into it and you can see the person on the other side. I just thought maybe-er-that I'd give one side to you and we could, you know, talk. Instead of owling. Or going round the Ministry."
"You're getting lazy, you mean," Malfoy corrected him. Malfoy's brow furrowed and his eyes were still trained on the mirrors in Harry's hands. "I don't think I should have this," he said slowly. "It obviously means a lot to you."
"I wouldn't offer if I didn't want you to have it." Harry heard the inflection in his own voice and Malfoy hesitated.
"I won't use it, you know," Malfoy said.
"That's fine."
"They may not even work, if one's broken."
"They work," Harry said, knowing he summoned Dobby's rescue with it. Here lies a free elf.
Somehow, the coils of burning guilt in his stomach didn't tighten any further. Harry let out a shaking breath.
"I'll take the shards; you can have the whole one. If that's alright," Malfoy was looking at Harry from under his fringe.
Harry nodded.
Malfoy reached for the largest shard and before Harry could warn him that he had cut himself twice before on the same piece, Malfoy cursed and drew back his hand.
Harry instantly had his wand out. He took Malfoy's hand in his and healed it, just like he healed him before, wand in hand. He saw the slice of red flesh close up like a flower's bloom in reverse and held Malfoy's hand in his, his fingers pressing into the healed palm, curling into it.
When he looked up, Malfoy was staring at him. Harry felt a shudder go down his body. The smell of soap on Malfoy's skin and the sweetness that came up from his robes mixed with the faint copper of blood. The shadow of Malfoy's head draped black over his neck and into the hollow where his collarbones met and that was more comfortable for Harry to look at than Malfoy's eyes. Harry watched Malfoy's throat swallow as a lump built in his own. Malfoy's wrist went still in his hands.
"You need to stop," Malfoy said.
"Stop what?" Harry asked hoarsely.
"This."
"What?"
"I don't know what you're trying to do." Malfoy's voice was almost a whine.
"I'm not trying to do anything!" Harry exclaimed.
"I don't-" Malfoy started, then shook his head. "You can keep your mirror. I don't know what you want from me."
Harry's hands closed around Malfoy's. "Wait-"
"Potter," Malfoy warned, but his voice wavered in the dark, like ripples of water in the moonlight.
Harry thought about all the things in his life he did because it was the right thing to do. Because he had to, because he was expected to, because everyone knew he would.
Not one of those things made him feel like this.
He tugged Malfoy to him and pressed his lips to his.
Malfoy's mouth went slack and the clenching in Harry's gut tightened with worry. The feeling was sharp and it sat heavy like a fist in his stomach. The inside of Harry's nostrils burned as he breathed and the dusty air felt sharp in his lungs. Malfoy's wrist was thin in his hands and he held it tight.
Slowly, Malfoy opened his mouth under his. Harry groaned, both relieved and aroused, as Malfoy's tongue slid into his mouth, soft and hesitant. It was nothing like the times before. Harry let Malfoy kiss him and Malfoy did, tongue moving slow and steady against his. Malfoy's mouth was hot and wet and Harry lost himself in the feeling. His body hummed, lips to limbs.
"Potter," Malfoy murmured against Harry's open mouth. He dipped his head low as he spoke and his sharp nose bumped Harry's chin. He leaned against Harry, hips pressed close. Harry's chin rested on the bridge of Malfoy's nose and he put his hands on Malfoy's waist.
I want this, Harry thought.
Malfoy's hands traveled down. They roamed over Harry's shoulders and his chest, fingers blazing fire on his skin, burning him to his core even through the wool robes. The robes were discarded soon after. Malfoy's mouth joined his fingers and kissed Harry in places that hadn't been kissed since Ginny and some places nobody had. Malfoy's hair caught in Harry's mouth as he kissed Harry's jaw and lower still. Harry touched the hair with his tongue and nearly swallowed it whole when he felt the heat of Malfoy's breath at his chest.
"Fuck," Harry shivered.
Harry lifted his hands to Malfoy's face, his jaw sharp and solid in his palms. He crushed their mouths together in a deep kiss, and Malfoy was doing anything but struggling to keep up. His mouth moved under Harry's, his hands pulling Harry lower, closer. Harry's tongue stroked Malfoy's, hugged the roof of his mouth, every ridge. Malfoy shifted his hips so that Harry could feel his cock, hard and pressed up to his.
Harry cursed under his breath and his hands fell to Malfoy's shoulders, pulling at his robes with impatient hands. The cloth fell to the ground, sliding off the slight angles of Malfoy's shoulders. Harry saw a long scar on his pale chest, new and pink. Malfoy caught his eye but didn't say anything. So Harry didn't either.
Harry touched him instead, running his hands along his sides. Malfoy closed his eyes and Harry dragged his lips over Malfoy. Malfoy's skin was hot and smooth and Harry's mouth became numb with the feeling of him under his lips. Harry dropped to his knees and half kissed half brushed his mouth down Malfoy's stomach, to where light hairs trailed into his pants (and Harry knew curled around his cock).
Malfoy moaned softly when Harry removed his mouth, like he had been holding it in this whole time.
"I've never-" Harry started, and bit his lip, hoping Malfoy couldn't see how red he knew he must be. He looked up at Malfoy and saw that he was flushed too, a beam of light between the rafters showed him this.
Malfoy's hands were heavy on Harry's shoulders. The hard angle of his jaw and the soft part of his lips made Harry's cock twitch and suddenly it didn't matter anymore. Not now, not when Malfoy clung to him like he was the only thing in the room keeping him grounded.
Harry took the head of Malfoy's cock in his mouth and Malfoy hissed and backed into the wall. Harry was sure the wood was biting into him, maybe splintering into his skin, but Malfoy's hands were on his head now, urging him so Harry sucked.
Malfoy was bitter and Harry cringed and swallowed around the taste. He could only take part of Malfoy in his mouth stroking the rest of it with his hand. Harry moved hesitantly, trying not to choke on Malfoy's cock as he rocked back and forth on his knees. He was grateful that Malfoy wasn't thrusting though he must have been close, the way he was moaning louder than Harry's heart was beating.
Harry tucked his hand into his own pants to stroke himself. He thought about Malfoy's cock in his mouth and the look on Malfoy's face.
"Potter, stop. Potter!"
Harry opened his eyes to a panting Malfoy, one hand on the wall to brace himself. Harry let off and Malfoy sunk to the ground next to him on a pile of their discarded robes.
"Potter, fuck me."
Harry's mouth ran dry at the thought of Malfoy letting him. His cock throbbed under his stilled hand. "I-I want to but -"
Malfoy took Harry's hand in his and brought it to his lips, swollen and full. Harry watched as Malfoy pushed two fingers inside and he felt the hot wetness of Malfoy's mouth and the sharpness of his teeth as he coated his fingers.
Harry's hand dropped between Malfoy's legs.
Harry swallowed and moved his fingers to Malfoy's arse. Malfoy let out a small, pained gasp as soon as Harry pushed one in. Harry felt guilty for how hard the sound made him. Malfoy was hot and tight around him and Harry had to bite his lip to keep himself still. He waited for Malfoy's chest to slow before Harry pushed in another.
Malfoy gritted his teeth and Harry felt him tighten like a silk knot tied around his fingers- remember this. Harry put a hand on Malfoy's hip to steady him, kissing his stomach, kissing the top of his curling toes.
Malfoy's cock had softened and Harry doubled his efforts with his free hand until it was hard again and leaking against his belly. Malfoy was panting now, quick breaths, as Harry fucked him with his fingers. His legs wrapped around Harry's waist and the sharp points of his heel dug into Harry. Harry was sweating and Malfoy was too, he could feel the dampness in Malfoy's touch when he pushed on Harry's chest and on his arms as he moaned.
Harry was slow but the sounds Malfoy was making and the searing heat of being inside him made Harry dizzy and soon he was pounding harder than he meant to, kissing him while he did so that Malfoy's knees threatened to knock against his own head. Malfoy's thighs shook with each thrust and he cried out when Harry brushed that angle he tried to maintain every time after that.
He took Malfoy's cock in his other hand and stroked until Malfoy came, noiselessly, his back arching off the floor. Malfoy convulsed around his fingers and Harry groaned, hastily shoving his hand into his own trousers. Harry's cock was already slick even without Malfoy's come on his fingers and he began to stroke himself again. The ache between his legs grew unbearable; he was so hot and still more heat was crawling up his belly.
Harry's hand was moving so fast he barely noticed Malfoy until he was beside him, pushing his hands away. Harry opened his mouth to protest but swallowed it when Malfoy's lips wrapped around his cock instead.
"God," Harry said, sucking up his breath as Malfoy bobbed up and down. He scrambled back on his hands, the floor hard and cool under his heated skin. Malfoy's mouth was red and wet and his lashes were almost invisible against his face. Harry tried to watch but Malfoy sunk lower on his cock and Harry shut his eyes tight with a hiss of pleasure. His head tilted back on his shoulders as he groaned into the still air. Malfoy worked his tongue as he sucked and Harry felt his whole body tense up as the warmth spread upwards. He was so so close.
Harry's breath hitched and as the heat pooled in his stomach.
A/N Please read and review.