Flirt by xErised
Dirty Picture
I think Draco's had enough fun being such a cocktease, hmmm?
"I need a fuck, Ron," Harry mumbled sadly, sinking his forehead dejectedly onto the wooden bar-top counter in the pub.
Beside him, Ron choked a little bit on his Firewhiskey.
"Y-Yeah, Harry?" Ron croaked out with well-practiced cautiousness.
"We did say that we would take things slowly, but I didn't think that sex was included in that too!" Harry huffed and took a long swig of his own drink before continuing. "Whenever I'm over at Draco's place, he prances around in his sodding jeans that are slung so low on his hips that I can see the tops of his bum, he's got no shirt on, no underwear on, and whenever I see him like that I keep that image burnt into my mind and I go home and wank like mad! It's like he enjoys watching me get all hot and bothered over him!" Harry wailed, ruffling his hair despondently.
The brunette sighed heavily, draped his arms across the counter and rested his chin on his elbow. His fingers drew squiggly patterns on the condensation of his glass. It was brilliant that Draco had made it a habit to come home earlier after work. He had given Harry the keys to his flat, and Harry had taken it upon himself to stock up Draco's kitchen with groceries and pop over to make Draco dinner. Of course the ex-Gryffindor didn't see Draco everyday; he didn't want to come across as too clingy.
But sex was a different matter altogether. A naked Draco was now a permanent fixture in Harry's head, turning his lecherous imagination inside out. Harry felt like a teenage boy all over again, spending his nights in bed, surrounded by used tissue wads and jerking himself off with his usual parade of explicit fantasies of the blond playing out in his mind.
"The both of you have already been official for three weeks, Harry, I would've reckoned that you would have made some sort of progress in that department… Harry? Harry?!" Ron tilted his head and frowned quizzically at his friend. Harry was staring vapidly into thin air, his green eyes glazed over and glittering oddly and a dopey smile on his face. The redhead blinked, leant back on his stool and peeked warily at the front of Harry's jeans.
Harry was hard, very hard.
"Harry!" Ron roared loudly, his eyes wide with horror. Harry jumped and knocked his drink over. The brunette swore under his breath and pulled his empty beer bottle upright. Ron gestured for the barman, who cleaned up the mess and prepared a fresh beverage for Harry.
"It's so obvious that Malfoy's playing hard to get, Harry. It's either that or he's got some dastardly plan up his sleeve. How does torture under sexual suppression sound? " Ron muttered under his breath. Harry purposely ignored Ron's dig at Draco. Granted, the redhead and the blond weren't outwardly hostile to each other anymore, but things were still tense between them. At least Draco and Hermione seem to be getting along, Harry thought to himself, feeling a twinge of relief.
"Did you try just… taking him like that?" Ron suggested, wrinkling his nose. Talking about Harry's sex life (or lack thereof) wasn't really what he had envisioned out on a night in the pub, but hey, Harry was his best mate.
"I never got a chance to! Every single time whenever I try to corner him, yes, he teases me with kisses and gropes all over, but when I wanna take it to the next level he wriggles out of my arms and gives some silly excuse. It's clear that he enjoys it, but he's holding back!" Harry explained, his voice rising with exasperation.
"Maybe you've got to do it the other way. Start off things nice and slow, and you know…" Ron trailed off, raising his eyebrows and throwing Harry a suggestive look.
"I did that too!" Harry bawled. "I invited him over one night, made him an exceptionally nice dinner, with roses and candlelight and all! After dinner, well, we started to fool around, nothing rough at all, and then I brought him to bed. Things were progressing really well, but there was no taking off of clothes yet, my hands were still above his hips. I thought I was definitely going to get some that night-"
"That's great. You've got to be real gentle and delicate, steer clear of touching places that um… he might not be used to. And then what happened?" Ron encouraged.
"I… grabbed his crotch," the brunette finished hopelessly, his face a sizzling mortified red. "He let out this adorable little squeak and pushed me off, saying that he was tired and he really should be making his way home, thank you for the wonderful dinner, but I knew, I just knew he was playing with me because he smirked at me, Ron! I mean, who bloody smirks when he's tired?! I'm only in my late twenties, I can't be unattractive! Is there something wrong with me?! I'm not balding, am I? My body's still fine, isn't it, Ron?! Is there such a thing as premature aging? Oh God, I'm going to die a sad, lonely old man because I'm not getting any!" Harry rambled, horror and panic apparent in his voice as he dissolved into a useless heap of misery on the floor.
"Harry, mate, pull yourself together! Maybe he was just shocked that you suddenly touched him there like that-"
"Ron, what would you know? The only person you've dated is Hermione," Harry grumped.
"That's besides the point!" Ron hollered back, looking down in mild embarrassment.
"It's different for guys! We don't need those… sensitive vibes that you've got to have for the girls! I want Draco, he wants me, so I should be pushing him up against the wall and fucking his brains out! There's no need for words, no need for explanations or reasoning whatsoever, fuck, Ron, I want him and his tight little arse so bad," Harry hissed heatedly, thumping a fist down in utter frustration.
"Yeah okay, Harry, I get the point," Ron swallowed uncomfortably and clapped Harry on the back consolingly. "Guess there's nothing you can do but wait."
"I was looking forward to this weekend, remember I told you about Draco and me going away, just the both of us? Well, he cancelled it because of work," Harry sighed, slumping back down on the counter. "I thought I would be guaranteed sex then, but hey, what do you know, his job comes first, of course," Harry complained grouchily. He knew he wasn't supposed to be angry, but it still hurt a bit to have his hopes suddenly dashed so rudely to the ground.
"Yeah, about that," Ron started, clearing his throat. "Since you've already gotten time off from work, why don't we go over and watch a Quidditch match live? Just the two of us? I shouldn't have a problem freeing up my days too. How's that sound?" Ron offered, his eyes round with deceptive innocence.
"That'll work fine, I reckon. It's better than spending my days moping around the house with absolutely nothing to do," Harry agreed. Ron dredged up a smile, tipped the bottle down his throat and finished off every drop of his Firewhiskey in one gulp, a secretive little smirk on his lips.
You owe me one, Malfoy.
As usual, Portkey Central was a huge, buzzing hive of organized chaos. Families, along with spotty teenagers and snotty toddlers were taking advantage of the long weekend for short trips. Businessmen and businesswomen were part of the mix too, their eyes hooking onto their gleaming diamond watches every few minutes while their shoes and heels clicked sharply on the floor like castanets. Couples sat on the couches, their bodies entwined lovingly around each other while they waited for their Portkey number to be called for their romantic getaways.
Harry's eyes lingered dolefully on the couples.
"Come on," Ron said, gently nudging Harry away. Ron's luggage suddenly fell to the ground, and Harry was just about to bend down and pick it up for the redhead when Ron immediately blocked the brunette's way and snatched it up himself.
"A bit too heavy," Ron grinned apologetically and grunted exaggeratedly, making a big show of pushing the luggage upright.
A cool female voice rang out amongst the typical hubbub and excitement, reminding everyone to check in their bags and to surrender their wands for a thorough checking before they could board the Portkey. A few large signboards hung right at the middle of Portkey Central, detailing the destination, timing and number of each Portkey that was in use for each hour. After each shift, the writing on the boards would magically be erased and replaced with the schedule for the next hour. There were immense glittery signs (Asia, Australia, Europe, America, etc.) scattered around the area that floated and twirled high up in the air, giving directions to the different Portkeys in the Central that led to different parts of the world.
"Don't we have to check in our bags first?" Harry asked as he tagged behind Ron, who was walking at a brisk pace. Ron was leading the both of them away from the crowds, and Harry blinked rapidly and stopped in his tracks altogether.
"Ron? Why are we going to the private Portkeys section? Don't tell me you booked one, you know how terribly expensive they are!" Harry fretted. Ron doubled back and grabbed Harry's wrist, physically pulling the brunette over.
"Just follow me," Ron said cryptically. Harry followed obediently, his brow furrowed in curiosity. It was obvious that this particular area was sequestered off to those who could afford luxuries like private Portkeys; rich celebrities and business people that Harry recognized only in the media lounged in the affluent plush seats, sipping on martinis and nibbling on caviar. Their bags were kept beside them, saving them the trouble and time of checking in. Soft opera music was piped into the surroundings. There were well-dressed help who hovered and fluttered around the passengers, ready to render their assistance if needed.
"I had some… doubts about your ability to present Harry to me, Weasley."
Harry's head swiveled towards that oh-so-familiar drawl, feeling his own heartbeat speeding up.
There stood Draco Malfoy, his arms crossed haughtily and leaning lazily against a wall, a supercilious smirk directed towards Ron.
"-so I should be pushing him up against the wall and fucking his brains out!"
A blushing Harry quickly looked down and surreptitiously adjusted the front of his jeans.
"Well, he's here, isn't he?" Ron snapped, annoyed.
"Hang on… the both of you…" Harry said, amazed as he quickly connected the dots, his gaze travelling from Ron to Draco, and back to Ron.
"Malfoy wanted to give you a surprise, so he gave me a call and insisted that I go along with it. He owes me a favor now," Ron explained, raising his voice marginally and saying his last sentence pointedly. In reply, Draco rolled his eyes heavenwards. Ron grinned sheepishly at Harry and clicked open his own luggage.
It was completely empty.
"The trip never got cancelled," Draco said, his eyes twinkling with mischief at a slack-jawed Harry.
"You mean we're still going to Paris for one week?" Harry managed to stammer out, shock and astonishment reverberating cheerfully in his heart. Draco nodded, an equally thrilled expression on his face. With that, the brunette rushed over to Draco and launched himself into the other man's arms, hugging him with life-threatening intensity. The blond laughed, dropping a lovely kiss on Harry's mouth. Harry beamed and kissed Draco back briefly, his hands lowering down to Draco's waist and squeezing tenderly.
It suddenly dawned on Ron that he had never seen Malfoy so happy before, each and every emotion splattered messily all over his pale, pointed, ferrety face. The redhead shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure maybe… maybe he really fancies Harry- of what to do. With his mega-watt grin still plastered sloppily on his face, Harry hurried towards Ron and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you," the brunette murmured.
"S'nothing. Just go and enjoy your holiday, alright?" Ron said, smiling back at Harry. Harry drew back and jerked his head towards the washrooms.
"Be right back."
Ron and Draco watched as Harry darted off. The redhead lumbered over to Draco, his brusque blue eyes meeting Draco's penetrating grey eyes head-on. Ron scratched his head uncertainly before speaking.
"I'm glad you make him so happy."
"I like seeing him happy," Draco replied, a merest shadow of a smile still clinging onto his lips.
"I'm not good with words, so let me put it this way. You break his heart and I'll break your face. You got that clear?" Ron said gruffly, his mouth straightening out into a threatening scowl. Draco ran his tongue inside his mouth slowly and took a step towards the other man, his piercing gaze never once wavering from Ron's.
"Crystal," Draco enunciated silkily, dragging that single word out to three long syllables.
"Good," Ron huffed, retreating a few paces. "Anyway, you owe me one, don't you, Malfoy?"
"How very like you, Weasley. Cashing in your favors now?" Draco asked lightly, raising an eyebrow in dainty query.
"Yeah, so what if I am?" Ron blustered. The redhead stared at Draco for a moment more, before sighing and moving closer towards the blond. He turned his head from side to side, dropped his chin discreetly and licked his lips, his words coming out in a confidential hush.
"Malfoy, you have got to let Harry fuck you."
"Excuse me?!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes round islands of shock and disbelief.
"Look. Don't get this the wrong way. I have no interest in your… sex life with him, honestly. I love Harry like my own brother, but there comes a limit when he starts going on about your tight little arse and how much he wants to spend the whole night fucking it. I can't take it anymore, Malfoy! It's alright with me if he wants to wank to you every other night, but when he starts to talk to me about it, bloody hell, Malfoy, there has to be some sort of line that can't be crossed even between best friends!" Ron said hysterically, his hands gesticulating agitatedly with every squeak of his voice.
"Don't worry about it, Weasley. I'll make sure that he'll be very, very satisfied in that particular department," Draco promised seriously, nodding.
"Brilliant. Guess I'll be off then," Ron said, relenting. He cracked a genuine half-smile and clapped Draco so hard on the back that the ex-Slytherin's whole body jerked forward. Harry reappeared just in time to wave Ron goodbye. The brunette then looked at Draco with starry, expectant eyes, that identical soppy smile settling on his mouth again.
"Come on," Draco prodded, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him towards him. The blond rattled off their names, their destination and their Portkey number to a lady tending to the Europe Portkeys.
"Is this your first time taking a private Portkey?" Draco asked as they were led away to a curtained-off section. There were a handful of people emerging from different rooms of varying sizes, apparently returning back home from their trips abroad.
"Yeah… We do use Portkeys during work, but we don't really have the budget for private ones. Um… where're your bags?"
"They're already at the hotel. I went there just a few hours ago to check that everything was perfect. Have you been to one of my hotels yet?"
"Not to the one in Paris," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck in a slightly bashful manner. Draco gave the other man an encouraging grin, and in no time at all, they were whisked away to the exhilarating city of Paris. Harry stumbled a bit on his feet for a moment, shaking his head to clear away the residual giddiness that always ensued after a jarring trip via Portkey.
"Bonjour, Messieurs. Monsieur Malfoy," an officer smiled while he greeted both men warmly, a gloved hand rising up to tip the brim of his hat towards them. Harry smiled back at him in return and stumbled forward. Draco, on the other hand, looked perfectly unruffled during the transition from London to Paris. Harry took in his surroundings with inquisitive eyes. It seemed to be the area reserved specifically for travel by Portkey. Small blocks of cubicles had been erected for groups of people, regardless of size, to be transported effortlessly from all corners of the world to the hotel. Two officers were stationed to guide the guests to various parts of the building.
"That's the Apparation room. It's the only location in here where you can Apparate, and of course, only registered lodgers and personnel are allowed to Apparate straight there, for safety purposes," Draco explained when he caught Harry casting a curious glance towards another room where a small string of people were streaming out from.
Harry and Draco threaded through small clusters of people, all decked out in designer clothes and accessories. The lobby was as wide and vast as a palatial banquet hall, complete with majestic winding staircases that led up to a lounge and a bar. Harry let out a gasp of awe at his surroundings when he saw the abundance of opulent crystal chandeliers that studded the ceilings. The décor was sleek, silver and modern, complete with extremely comfortable plush chairs. The tables had glossy international magazines sprawled across them. Porters, doormen and the concierge were in full battle gear, their livery impeccable and spotless. Their shoes clicked importantly against the marble floor, and Harry actually had to stop walking for a moment and savor the luxury and… hedonism of it all.
Only one or two families were present, and even Harry knew that they were celebrity families. It seemed that the clientele catered mostly to celebrities, especially tabloid-worthy couples that would probably break up during the following week and prestigious magnates that Harry had caught fleeting glimpses of at Pansy's wedding.
"Wow, Draco, I can't believe that you own this place!" Harry said, his eyes shining in amazement.
"Actually, it's me and Millicent who owns it. Fifty-fifty," Draco clarified. "Good afternoon, Marcel. I trust everything is fine," the blond tipped his head to one side and drummed his fingers on the reception counter.
"Monsieur Malfoy! Bonjour, Monsieur Potter!" Marcel beamed merrily at both men. "Your room is ready, but may I have your wand for configuration, Monsieur Potter?" Marcel asked politely in accented but fluent English. Harry fumbled in his pockets for his wand and surrendered it to the Frenchman. Meanwhile, a woman flounced up beside Harry and rapped rudely on the counter, summoning service immediately.
Harry recognized her at once as a socialite whose only job was going to parties and clubs and getting drunk, drugged and fucked all at once. She was wearing way too much makeup and dressed in a trashy, skimpy way. Georges, another staff situated beside Marcel, raised an eyebrow in disdain at her attire, but nevertheless rose and asked her in a perfectly civil manner what it was that she required.
"I need a presidential suite, top floor, best view of the pool and the streets at this instant, no questions asked," the woman demanded shrilly, her wand already pulled out and banged unceremoniously on the counter.
"I do apologize, but we're fully booked at the moment-"
"Six thousand Galleons to each of the reception staff on duty right now if I get what I want," she shot back without batting an eyelid, a crafty sneer on her features. Georges paused only for a split second, before nodding deferentially at the woman and accepting her wand.
"Please have a seat. I will be back with you shortly." With that, the socialite turned and tottered away on her skyscraper heels, but not before giving Harry the once-over and throwing his jeans and scudded sneakers a disgusted look.
"Are you just going to let her have her way just like that?! What's going to happen to those guests that are occupying the suite that she wants? Are you going to kick them out?!" Harry appealed, piqued. Draco only leant his head against his palm casually and smiled artfully at Georges.
"We weren't really fully booked, were we?" The blond asked lightly.
"No, sir, not at all," Georges said teasingly, a sly little grin on his face.
"In this world of ours, Harry, money talks. If you have to ask, you probably can't afford it. You might think of this as snobby, but this is how we operate," Draco remarked matter-of-factly, his glittery grey eyes a blaze of cool competence. Harry frowned slightly and looked away, his eyes drawn to a particular scene playing out near the doors. There were two men outside the hotel, and they seemed to be requesting for entrance into the building. One of them furtively pulled out a heavy bag of coins and placed it covertly in the palm of the burly doorman.
He was allowed entrance, proof that only the wealthy had the liberty to step foot in here.
"Here is your wand, Monsieur Potter," Marcel trilled, startling Harry from his thoughts. Harry retrieved his wand, only to see their room number etched at the side of his wand.
"Not to worry, the markings will be gone when Monsieur has ended his stay with us. Simply swipe your wand against the doorknob to unlock it, and Monsieur is now free to Apparate at will into the hotel premises, but only if Monsieur has his wand with him. Have a nice day!" Marcel chirped flamboyantly, bowing deeply.
Harry and Draco made their way up to their room, the brunette's heart thudding fast with anticipation and desire. Harry smacked his lips together hungrily, eyeing Draco's arse greedily as though it was a morsel of pure decadence. Draco swiftly unlocked the door with ease, and the ex-Gryffindor stepped in, every pivot and whirl of his eyes soaking up the scene that welcomed him.
Whimsical and dreamy paintings of the streets and The Seine of Paris adorned the lively sunflower-yellow walls. A crystal-cut bowl filled with potpourri sat placidly together with a frosted vase of fresh daisies on the mahogany table of the main room that served as a hall. A thick creamy rug rustled softly under Harry's feet, and the brunette quickly took his shoes off, not wanting to dirty anything.
Harry slowly wound his way through the suite, an expression of admiration on his face. A basket of croissants, buttery, flaky and glazed in a tempting shade of nut-brown were practically begging to be eaten. Chocolate truffles and chocolate mousse, resplendent in their lavish packaging, lolled on the kitchen counter. A wide variety of teabags were available, twinned with two dainty teacups and saucers made of fragile porcelain.
"Draco, you have to let me pay for half of this, and for the Portkey too, all of this couldn't have come cheap!" Harry insisted.
"Don't be silly-"
"No, really, I can't expect you to pay for this simply because you're more familiar with everything. Look, I'll take care of our meals and the other expenses throughout the trip, alright? Then it's fair that way," Harry pressed on. Draco paused momentarily, before nodding. The sides of Harry's eyes crinkled up in a wide grin as he continued his exploration into the bedroom, his cock already hardening in expectation-
The crowning glory was a double bed, its sides swathed in translucent, ivory damask. A pair of marshmallowy pillows was at the head of the bed, covered with a duvet that was fluffed to perfection.
"Like what you see, hmmm?" Draco purred teasingly, his eyes half-lidded and his lower lip caught tantalizingly between his teeth. His lithe body was leaning against the door-jamb, his arms folded and his ankles crossed.
Was it Harry's imagination, or did Draco thrust his hips up just that little bit?!
Usually, a normal, healthy Harry that did not have a sex-addled brain would probably smile happily and reply that yes, the accommodation was perfectly fine, and thank you very much for arranging everything, and shall we go out for a soothing walk in the lovely boulevards of Paris, Draco darling?
But we're talking about an extremely horny Harry who has been mercilessly teased by a very sexy Draco Malfoy for the past two months, three weeks and two days, and counting.
"Let's fuck," Harry snarled bluntly, rushing towards a squawking Draco, shoving him up against the wall and unclasping his own jeans with one hand while his other hand snaked up Draco's body, his skilful fingers tracing the valley up the blond's spine.
"Glad to know your priorities," Draco quipped dryly and firmly planted his palms on Harry's chest, pushing the brunette away.
"Stop fucking with me, Draco, haven't you played with me long enough-"
"Au contraire. I'll let you fuck me whenever you want me, however you want me, and wherever you want me, but only after I've made the first move. I like seeing you like this, Harry, I like to see how I'm able to reduce the great Harry Potter into a mound of quivering flesh just by doing this-"
With that, Draco slipped a hand into Harry's open jeans, brushing his fingers invitingly up Harry's erection.
Harry groaned, his eyes closed while he writhed shamelessly in Draco's touch.
"The more desperate you are, the more I'm not giving it to you. Now zip your pants up, Potter, and grab your coat. We're going out," Draco commanded imperiously, shooting Harry a pleased look. His thin lips were hiked up in a flirtatious smirk as the blond turned and trotted out of the bedroom, leaving a poor Harry, with his jeans undone and his long-neglected libido climbing the walls in his wake.
Harry's neck twitched as he surveyed the image of the beautiful blond sitting across the dinner table. They were in the hotel restaurant, yes, Harry could go on and wax lyrical about how magnificent and grand everything was, but fuck, Harry had other more pressing matters at the forefront of his brain.
Namely sex.
Or lack thereof.
It was their third night in Paris.
They still had not fucked.
The first two nights had been absolute hell and heaven for Harry; to be able to share a bed with the sexiest man he had ever set eyes on, but not being allowed to touch him in ways that Harry spent hours fantasizing about.
"We're practically naked, Draco, let's do it now-"
"I highly doubt that wearing a shirt and a pair of shorts count as being practically naked."
"You know what I'm saying, come on, I'm so horny-"
"I would appreciate it if you removed your hand from my crotch, and stop breathing so heavily, it's disturbing."
"Fine. I'll sleep way over at the other side of the bed, so you won't get affected at all by a desperately panting man who's practically drooling at the mouth."
"Potter! Get your arse back here now!"
"…"
"Doesn't mean… that I don't wanna cuddle."
Paris wrapped around Harry like a quilt weaved with threads of enchantment and magic. They had shared an ice-cream cone in the park where ornately decorated fountains spouted a never-ending cascade of sparkling water. There was the delightful scent of Paris rippling idly in the breeze, a sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of the shopping strips and flea markets that the both of them had strolled leisurely through.
Harry realized that his favorite hobby was simply people-watching by lazing in the small cafés that dotted the streets and sipping on their café au lait while they enjoyed the sun's rays which shone down on them like a blessing. They savoured bite-size soupcons of fruit tarts, their exterior painted shiny with glaze and dusted with a light rainfall of powdered sugar. There were small cupcakes with webs of candy-pink spun sugar, praline and cream, flan parfaits and colorful and perfectly dome-shaped macarons with a positively sinful filling.
There had been this particular incident when Draco had run into a business friend in a café. Harry had looked down and waited patiently while the both of them exchanged pleasantries. When it seemed as though the other man was about to embark on some talk about work, Draco had glimpsed the mild discomfort in Harry's fixed grin. The blond had smiled politely at his friend and said, "Excuse me, but I don't mix business with pleasure." With that, the man dipped his head apologetically and left.
Harry had to fight to keep the silly smile off his face the whole day.
The only hiccup throughout the trip was that Harry seemed to have a predisposition to touch Draco every chance that he could. Whenever they sat down, Harry's hand would automatically sneak towards Draco and start to fondle the ex-Slytherin's inner thighs.
Well, that was until Draco had threatened to hex Harry's balls off if he ever tried that blatant maneuver again in public, which brought them back to square one: Sex.
It had been like a bothersome bee that buzzed irritatingly around their heads, waiting to be released from the cell in which only Draco held the key.
"Don't you know that it's rude to stare?" Draco murmured loftily, training a sexually potent look onto a flustered Harry. "So, what do you want to eat?"
"You," Harry said feverishly, hooking his foot around Draco's ankle under the table. "Come on, Draco, let's skip dinner and go to bed. We'll call for room service when we're done, please-" Harry's pleas wilted on his lips as Draco proficiently unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt in a fluid motion, revealing a delectable expanse of pale, creamy skin, all for Harry's licking, sucking, biting, nibbling, whatever the fuck I wanna do to him-
Draco held Harry's predatory gaze while his own nimble fingers stroked his skin, his fingernails sliding and slipping sensually over the hollows and crooks of his collarbones. He brought a shoulder up, letting the top of his shirt slowly glide down, revealing the arousing curve and dip of his neck and shoulder.
Harry's pupils dilated as he stared brazenly at Draco's little show.
"Okay, let's leave now, let's go-" Harry gabbled, his words tripping and tumbling over each other in a haste to chivvy Draco up to their room and fulfill all of his filthy, pornographic, cavorting daydreams bit by fiery bit-
"Good evening, we'll have the seven-course dinner, and please, ask the chef to take his time. We've got the whole night, don't we, Harry?" Draco instructed the waiter and handed over their menus. The blond had shrugged his shirt up, and the corners of his mouth were lifted up in his patented smirk, his grey eyes dancing with faint flickers of amusement.
The blissful look on Harry's face deflated, along with his erection.
"What was that all about?! I thought we were going back, you were doing all of that-" Harry ranted indignantly, his fists clenched in vexation.
An unruffled Draco only propped his elbows up on the table and interlaced his hands together, his chin resting on the network of his fingers, his head crooked to one side. He regarded Harry with a theatrically sorrowful and heartrending expression of his own.
"But I'm hungry, Harry darling."
He would do a bloody striptease in front of the blond if it was necessary, but fuck, he had had enough of this! Harry huffed as he stepped out of the bathtub, his hair wet and thin rivulets of water dribbling down his chest and muscles.
No, Draco did not join him in the bath.
Harry had wet his body and soaped up his strategic bits and waited expectantly for five minutes for Draco to yank open the bathroom door and throw himself at Harry, where they would commence their night of sex and utter debauchery.
And in the end, a disappointed Harry had showered alone.
Lust, sleazy, obscene and mountainous, broiled and foamed in Harry, making him sweat with sexual promise. Draco had been hypnotizing him with his blowjob lips and subtle sexual innuendoes, shaping and adjusting his words precisely to play and tease Harry until the brunette was at breaking point.
A grumpy Harry tied a towel around his hips and finger-combed his hair roughly. After the sodding seven-course dinner, Draco had swept Harry away to both the bar and the lounge, choosing to turn a deaf ear to Harry's outraged protests. When it had all been finally over, Harry had breathed a sigh of long-awaited relief when Draco brought them back to their room.
Even before Harry could get his paws on him, Draco had bolted to the bathroom and taken a shower that had lasted for twenty minutes, but to Harry it felt like a fucking eternity. Harry had been lying in wait outside the bathroom door, crouched down and ready to pounce on the blond the second he came out.
But of course, that plan of attack had been foiled too.
As though Draco was privy to Harry's scheme, the blond had ignored the brunette's battle cry and deftly side-stepped Harry's tackle. Draco laughed maniacally as he twirled Harry around and booted him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
"Get a shower first, and then we'll talk!"
But I don't wanna talk, I wanna fuck you, Harry thought crabbily as he threw the door open-
-and came face-to-face with a half-naked Draco, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a foxy grin.
"Would you consider it too… forward if I asked you to… touch me?" Draco whispered, his right hand falling to his waist and sliding his fingers in between the gap of his jeans and his skin.
Something in Harry's brain short-circuited.
"W-What?" Harry croaked out weakly, his eyes completely focused onto Draco's nipples.
"Don't want it? Such a shame," Draco sighed dramatically and turned away, a kittenish smile lingering on his lips.
"No, I want it, I want it real bad!" Harry wailed, chasing after Draco and grabbing handfuls of the blond's arse lasciviously. "You don't know how much I want you, Draco."
The ex-Slytherin swung his hips to one side and faced the brunette with a shrewd smirk. Harry released his hold on Draco's body and bit down on his lower lip as Draco reached down to the front of jeans and lowered the zipper down inch by inch enticingly, as though he was a magician about to unveil his newest trick.
Draco bent down to pull his jeans off, and that was when Harry twined his fingers into Draco's hair, forcing the blond to look up. The brunette undid the knot on his towel with the other hand, causing the flimsy towel to fall to the floor. Draco moaned, his breath hissing ardently between his teeth as he leered at the other man's erection. The ex-Slytherin transferred his gaze onto Harry's face, and he could only let out a gurgled, helpless whimper when he saw nothing but animalistic hunger and desire.
Draco straightened up, not a single stitch of clothing on him and his smoky irises full of sex. His synapses firing, Harry immediately gawked at Draco's cock, wondering how fucking good it'll feel to take that in his mouth and wrap his tongue around every inch of it.
"You want me? Then take me, Harry," Draco inveigled, standing with his legs apart and his arms spread out, letting Harry scope out every sliver of his body. Harry launched himself towards the blond without further ado, managing to lick a strip of Draco's lips, only to be pushed away marginally. Draco's grip on Harry's shoulders relented for a split second, and Harry attacked again, this time succeeding in slipping his tongue between Draco's parted lips, but also being pushed away the second time.
Draco only gave a small, apologetic little pout, snaking a thigh in between Harry's legs and rubbing it up and down.
"Fuckin' tease," Harry growled impatiently. He slapped Draco's hands away and kissed the blond full on the lips with fervor, plundering his mouth aggressively, batting Draco's tongue aside as Harry used his teeth, tongue and lips in perfect harmony. Draco's arms slid around Harry's shoulders and squeezed, marveling at his velvety wet muscles and the exquisite set of his shoulders. Draco broke the kiss and dragged his tongue along the line of Harry's chiseled jaw, reveling in the wicked rush of sex thumping and flooding his veins, his groans electrifying the air around them.
Draco gasped in surprise when Harry let his hands trace the curve of his body, scratching the blond's hips lightly before one hand encircled around Draco's cock, Harry's other arm wrapping around Draco's waist possessively and pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed thrillingly together without an inch of space in between.
"My little Slutherin," Harry purred, his voice as sweet and intimate as the voluptuous slither of sheets against sheets. Draco's grip tightened on Harry's neck, and his hand descended down to Harry's cock, only to be met by a sharp whack of Harry's wrist. It was an erotic rollercoaster advancing skywards, and Draco moaned louder when Harry's finger ghosted and pressed lightly against his entrance. Harry chuckled deeply and shifted his hand back to Draco's cock, palming it and driving Draco delirious with pleasure. The blond was in a state of euphoria, his fingers burrowed into Harry's hair and his hips thrusting into Harry's hand, enhancing everything to fever pitch.
"Please don't stop, please," Draco begged breathlessly, his voice jagged at the edges and punctuated with mewls and whines. With that, he threw his head back, his eyes screwed shut and a drawn out groan tearing out from this throat as he came. Harry smirked, brought his hand up and licked his fingers, his slick tongue moving and slithering into the crevices. Draco felt his heartbeat gradually return to normalcy, and he began to lap at Harry's collarbone, fancifully kissing and lacing Harry's body with licks all the way down to the brunette's abdomen.
Draco paused, his grey eyes blazing with intent and purpose and slowly got down to his knees, his teeth biting his lower lip in a pretense of innocence. Harry looked down at Draco with an equally demure look on his face and grabbed hold of his own cock, an eyebrow raised.
"Knew you couldn't resist," Harry hissed when Draco dove in, taking Harry in his mouth and treating the brunette to a full oral feast. Blond tendrils were twisted around Harry's hand and Harry's teeth were bared in sheer ecstasy. Delicious sounds peppered from Harry's lips, and it wasn't long before swirls of stars exploded behind Harry's eyes.
"Now we're even," Draco said, his eyebrows lifted mischievously as he licked his lips voraciously.
"For now," Harry grinned and carted the other man off to bed. He threw Draco on the bed, their limbs tussling and the sheets shivering with static and drenched in desire.
"How do you want it? Hard, fast, rough or slow, luscious and drawn out?" Harry murmured, his tongue tickling Draco's ear while he pinned Draco down.
"I'll take whatever you can give me. That is, if you can deliver it all," Draco whispered back tauntingly, his thighs already splayed open. Harry grabbed the backs of Draco's thighs and forced them open more.
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'll do every single thing, and more."
Harry woke up to the sound of the water running in the bathroom.
He roused himself sleepily from his cloud of a duvet, wriggling his toes against the sheets with relish. A happy little smile settled on his mouth when he thought of the previous sex-saturated night, and he fell back against the pillows again, sighing in a faraway manner.
He's up? Bet he wants more, Harry thought wantonly as he hopped out of bed energetically and wandered towards the bathroom.
"I love the way your bum wriggles when you do that," Harry grinned, eyeing Draco's swaying posterior as the blond brushed his teeth. Draco rolled his eyes and rinsed his mouth.
"And a good morning to you too," he said, scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror and fixing his hair to its usual impeccable state.
"Come back to bed. You were such a demanding bottom last night, baby. Wanna discipline you all over again," Harry murmured, bestowing kisses at the back of Draco's neck. Without any sort of preamble, the brunette grabbed Draco's arse-cheeks, and the blond squeaked. Harry inwardly admired that perfectly fuckable arse of Draco's and squeezed it again. Definitely not a ten anymore, probably a fifteen, fuck, maybe even more, Harry corrected Draco's bum score, beaming privately to himself at how he had fucked Draco's arse, grabbed it, groped it, licked it, and fucked it all over again last night.
"Sorry, Harry. I've got a meeting to attend. I guess I forgot to inform you. I'll be back in the early afternoon," Draco said apologetically and exited the bathroom.
That brought him crashing down from cloud nine to a thistle of barbed wires.
"W-What?" Harry stammered, crestfallen. "You're leaving me here, all alone?" He continued, dismayed. The brunette could only watch as Draco looped a tie around his neck, bristling with efficiency and authority.
"I've already ordered breakfast for you," the blond said, gesturing to the silver domes and trays that were on the kitchen counter. There were plates of pastries and bread, carved fruit, bacon and scrambled eggs, but all for one person.
"But I thought… I thought we could have breakfast together," Harry said, exhaling heavily in disappointment. He began to pull off Draco's shoes as Draco put them on, and Draco thwacked his hands away.
"It's important, Harry. Besides, I've already taken a lot of days off to be with you. There'll be two more meetings a few days after. I hope you'll understand," Draco explained softly. He saw the dejection in Harry's eyes, and Draco sighed. He leant in and pressed a heart-stoppingly intimate kiss on Harry's lips.
"I promise I'll rush back when everything's done, okay?"
Harry nodded mutely and watched sadly as Draco grabbed his briefcase and left the room. Harry trailed miserably after Draco, his shoulders sagging as the blond gave Harry one last kiss and let himself out of the suite. Harry slumped back to the bedroom and flung himself on the bed, still displeased at Draco's sudden departure. He reached for Draco's pillow and buried his nose in it, drawing in the sweet scent of his lover.
it's not even five minutes-
but I miss him already-
"I want you to get yourself drunk and fuck me."
Harry froze in his tracks and stared in surprise at the row of alcohol bottles and Firewhiskey that Draco had prepared. A giddy-looking Draco stood at the end of the queue, directing an indolent and languid smile towards Harry. Two opened and half-empty bottles of champagne lay at his feet. The brunette slowly made his way towards the blond, not really sure that Draco had just said what he thought he had said.
"I know you're thrilled that you got the deal during the first meeting yesterday, but-"
"Fuck yeah, Harry, I beat the rest of those geezers and got the deal! And everyone said that we couldn't do it 'cause Labelle wasn't involved!" Draco roared triumphantly, throwing his head back and whooping drunkenly. "Let's celebrate, let's celebrate by fucking! I can't stop thinking about that evening during Pansy's wedding, you were drunk and you were touchin' me all over, felt so fuckin' good, maybe it'll be better than our first time, Harry, get drunk and fuck my brains out!" Draco demanded, reaching down and taking another swig of champagne.
"I don't remember anything when I'm drunk, Draco! I don't want to have sex with you when I can't recall a thing the next morning!" Harry argued, grunting when Draco cannoned towards him, pushing him back into a chair.
"Does it matter, Harry baby?" Draco cooed in that husky, throaty whisper that coiled right into the brunette's ear. "We'll do anything and everything you want tonight. I always see you looking longingly at me and that huge dining table in the kitchen, yeah, I know, and that huge window at the living room. Fuck me there, fuck me hard and good, please, baby? I'm so damn horny right now," Draco purred provocatively, his seductive sing-song voice salting and slapping playfully at Harry's ear. Draco reached down and wrapped his fingers around Harry's awakening cock like a tongue around a lollipop. His fingers lifted up the champagne bottle and tipped a sizeable amount of alcohol down Harry's throat. The blond parted Harry's shirt, slathering his chest with kisses, nibbles and licks.
"Wait…" Harry said, stilling Draco's touches by enveloping the blond's wrists with one hand. The brunette whipped out his wand and cast a spell, summoning a tiny camera with fluttering pale blue wings that flitted around the pair. It was only for one-time use, but Harry reckoned that that was more than enough. The camera would self-destruct when its contents were replayed once.
"Kinky. I didn't know you were into that," Draco wolf-whistled, his eyes alight with a sheen of lewdness and raunchiness. Their clothes were shed in an abrupt jumble and Harry attacked Draco's neck with renewed vigor. Harry groaned when the blond feathered his fingers roguishly along Harry's bare inner thigh.
"Can't get enough of your cock," Draco breathed.
"No, not now," Harry dictated, hoisting Draco on his lap, the ex-Slytherin's back pressed against Harry's front. The brunette grinned and snatched up the Firewhiskey, trickling drip by drip down Draco's back. Harry caught each drop neatly with his tongue, but as the seconds passed, he let the drink travel lower and lower down Draco's spine. The taste of Draco, sex and alcohol mingled on Harry's tongue like the most intoxicating toxin, and Harry licked his lips when he saw Draco's hands clawing desperately at the handles of the chair. Harry jerked his hips up sharply, and Draco cried out loud when Harry's cock grinded excitedly against his lower back.
Harry drank a few gulps of Firewhiskey and pulled Draco's head back, pouring some down the other man's open jaws. Draco glugged it down carelessly, spills of Firewhiskey streaming down his arms, back and sides of his body.
"Fuck me. Fuck me, Harry, please," Draco groaned, closing his eyes and thrusting his arse out, frantically rubbing the length of Harry's cock up and down the crack of his arse. Harry gnashed his teeth together furiously and pushed Draco down on the floor on all fours. The blond's fingers bunched and fisted in the carpet, and he arched his back on purpose, his head turned backwards and his eyes glued to Harry stroking himself to full hardness. Harry retrieved the bottle of Firewhiskey and up-ended it on Draco's back. With that, the ex-Gryffindor leant forward and licked a series of criss-crosses fuck, he doesn't discover sweet spots, he creates them- from the back of Draco's neck, to his alcohol-drenched spine, to his tailbone, and even further down…
They were nothing but two bodies choreographed in heated perfection, and the night began to dissolve into a passionate and wild shroud of shiver and sighs.
"Holy shit, Draco," Harry muttered, utterly stupefied. With that last smutty scene of their late night love fest played out, the camera exploded into ribbons of confetti.
The whole place was in a mess; there were smatterings of lube here and there smeared on the walls, the gauzy curtains surrounding the bed were dangling for dear life on their holders, there were beer, champagne bottles and used tubes of lube littered all over place. The bed looked like a pack of merciless, rabid dogs had attacked it, and fuck, don't even get Harry started on the come stains.
There was that usual pounding in his head that ensued after a night of heavy alcohol consumption, but Harry ignored it to the best of his ability.
Besides, there were more important issues to settle.
"Kinda makes you feel like doing it all over again, hmmm?" Harry whispered, nuzzling Draco's shoulder, his hand already threading through blond strands.
"Touch me again, Potter, and I swear to Salazar you'll sleep in the hotel lobby for the rest of the trip. Fuck, my arse fucking hurts," Draco complained through a mouthful of pillow. "And it's all your fault! Sex, sex, sex! That's all you can bloody think about!" Draco roared, shooting Harry a withering look.
"It's not my fault if you kept on going," At this point, Harry cleared his throat and pitched his voice into a higher falsetto tone. "Harder, Harry baby, more, yes, just like that, don't stop, fuck yeahhhhhhhh!"
Silence reigned for a moment as both men glared daggers at each other.
His mussed hair resembling something remotely like blond scribbles, Draco tried to lift his body fully, but was only met with a sweet, yet tortured soreness.
"Feels like someone shoved a stick of dynamite up my arse and it exploded," Draco mumbled, his face a deep flaming scarlet of embarrassment when he remembered how sluttish he had been last night.
"Wow. I knew I was good, but not that good-"
"That wasn't a compliment, Potter! You… you sex fiend!" Draco hollered, bashing the side of Harry's face with his palm. "I need a bath. I stink. And you stink too, Potter. Get the medicine kit over, there's some hangover potion and a salve for aches," Draco commanded. The brunette hauled himself out of bed and lurched to his feet, waiting for a while for the spots behind his eyes to clear. He returned shortly with the potions, giving one to the other man and drinking the other one himself.
"You need to shower before I can apply the salve on you," Harry said as he read the instructions. Draco gave a long-suffering sigh and pulled himself up, wincing. He slowly got out of bed and shuffled forward, performing the hobble of the recently (and violently) fucked.
"And don't you dare try to cop a feel of my arse," Draco warned.
Harry's hand, who had been hovering inches away from said arse, quickly snapped back.
"Do you remember that this was where I bent you over and fucked-" Harry started and grinned cheekily at the edge of the bathtub, but was silenced instantly when Draco shot him a death glare.
"I did not give you carte blanche to fuck me for all its worth! Don't you know the meaning of stop-"
"That was the problem, Draco! You didn't say stop! I mean, you did say stop, but the word before it was 'don't', which changes the meaning quite a bit-"
"Don't argue with me! I'm wounded!" Draco bawled.
Harry firmly ordered himself to behave and meticulously helped Draco into the bathtub. He switched on the taps and got in carefully behind the blond, gently massaging Draco.
"That's more like it…" Draco sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Harry's hands on him and the soothing, lapping effect of the water, but wait, there was something prodding him at the back-
"Now is not the time to get hard, for Salazar's sake!" Draco shrieked, looking at Harry in unabated disbelief.
"It's a natural reaction! We're both naked, in the tub and my bits are touching yours! I can't help myself!" Harry wailed. Draco's features softened and he brought Harry's hand up to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
"Just nurse me back to full health, alright?"
Harry nodded determinedly and continued his caresses on Draco's shoulders.
"Draco?"
"Hmmm?"
"Does this mean no sex for the next few days?"
"... Must you still ask, Potter?!"
/tbc
I had to write the alcohol scene, I really had to! /grin