A/N: Today is my birthday! 25, before you ask. I'm ancient.
This is my favourite chapter so far. Just why should be evident by the time you get to the end.
Draco's Patronus is a magpie because they're cunning and resourceful, sleek and beautiful, they love pretty and shiny things and, most importantly, it reflects within him a desire to fly free.
Still unbeta'd - this is all me.
Chapter 11 - Winter Son
"Harry!"
A distressed wail from upstairs broke Harry's concentration from reading Bear his bedtime story. It was an impressive wail – one that turned his two syllable name into an eight syllable whine.
"What?" He made sure to pitch his own voice somewhere between amusement and annoyance.
Draco thundered down the stairs and skidded to a halt in the doorway. His hair was dripping wet and his skin, too, appeared damp, although he'd pulled his shirt on over the top of his boxers. At this sight Harry really did snort with laughter.
"Oh, you look incredibly pathetic," Harry opined.
"I forgot to cast Impervius on my bandage before getting in the shower." Draco stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.
"Oh dear."
"Fix it for me!" Draco cried.
"I'm sorry, Mr Lupin, you simply must wait," Harry said to the baby. "It is much more important that I sort out our eighteen year old companion, because he clearly can't do it himself."
Draco was sulking as he stalked across the room and flopped on to the sofa next to Harry, holding out his arm for inspection and repair. Harry laid Bear down on the sofa and cast a static shield charm to stop him falling off.
"Take your shirt off," Harry instructed.
"Why?"
"For once in your life, Malfoy, just do what you're told and don't argue."
"Fine. Potter."
Harry recognised the dig and welcomed it as Draco stripped off his shirt. He forced himself not to stare at the scarring as he unwound the wet bandages to reveal the red and sore, but definitely healing skin below.
"It doesn't need a new bandage on there, Draco," Harry said softly as he dried the wet skin with a gentle drying charm.
"But I want one."
"Have you talked to Miranda yet?"
"Fuck off."
Harry sighed. "Okay, talk to me, then."
"Can I have my shirt back?"
"It's all wet. I really wish I could have seen you jumping out of that shower."
"You're a sadist."
"Just a little bit."
Draco took his shirt and started to dry it himself, holding his wand and moving it like a Muggle lady with a hairdryer.
Bear was starting to fall asleep, despite their bickering and the abandonment of his bedtime story. Harry leaned over and scooped the baby into his arms, cradling him close to his chest to carry him upstairs to his crib. The nursery looked like a completely different room from the dark, mouldy box that they'd originally moved Bear into; with clean windows and clean, bright walls, it was now warm and welcoming.
The baby was already breathing deeply as Harry set him down in the crib, turned on the musical mobile of moving Quidditch players and prodded the conspectus charm into a better position.
"Goodnight," Harry whispered before closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
To his surprise, Draco was still sitting shirtless on the sofa when he returned.
"Look," he said, thrusting out his arm.
"Mhmm, I've seen it a few times, actually," Harry said.
"No, look, Harry. You can barely see the Mark."
"I hate to say I told you so, but… no, wait. I actually quite enjoy telling you I told you so. Because I did."
Draco rolled his eyes and waited for Harry to sit next to him, then pushed his forearm back under Harry's nose. Very gently, Harry grasped his wrist and lowered it to where he could look at it properly. The skin was starting to scar where it had knitted back together; pale, silvery pink and white stretches that looked obscene on Draco's beautiful skin. If he looked closely Harry could just about see a few dark curves deep under the scarring, but they were faint enough to not notice on a casual inspection.
"It's gone," Draco murmured.
Harry trailed his fingertips down the length of Draco's inner arm. Draco shuddered. "Yeah. It has."
"I don't… I'm not…" Draco stumbled over his words.
"I think," Harry interjected, his words carefully paced, "that this is the absolution you've been looking for. You did a terrible thing when you took that Mark, Draco, I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. But when you risked it all with the traitor's curse, then you've earned the right to be forgiven."
Draco was shaking his head. "Not yet. Not quite yet."
"Yes," Harry argued, tugging on the hand that was strangely still in his own until Draco looked at him. "You have to let it go. You have to move on. Is Bear going to grow up knowing his cousin who risked his life to help a group of innocent people, or is he going to know a Death Eater?"
"I want him to know..." He sighed heavily. "I'm so sick of this, Harry. I want my mum back. I want to go back to normal, but normal was fucking horrible so I don't want that, and the closest thing I've ever come to a real family is with you and Bear, and that's fucking terrifying too, so…"
"Isn't your mum going to want you to… how was it you put it… marry a nice pureblood witch and start making lots of nice grandchildren for her?" Harry was smirking, teasing, but his words held weight.
"Probably," Draco admitted. "I won't, though. I think I've got to stand up to her and say no, and I think she'll probably accept that."
"I hope so," Harry said.
Draco met his eyes. "I hope so, too."
He wasn't sure just when the conversation had shifted to create this tense, awkward atmosphere between them, but Harry didn't like it. He wanted their tense, awkward friendship back. When his hand had been extracted from Draco's, Harry stood and walked to the door.
"Good night, Draco."
"Mmm. 'Night."
xXx
"I'm going for a shower," Harry called after he'd stumbled out of bed the following morning, hoping that this would discourage Draco from coming to find him. Waking up with an erection was nothing new. Waking up with an erection and the thought of what he was about to do, was.
The tiled bathroom filled with steam as Harry stripped off his boxers and t- shirt, flinging them into the washing basket with little thought before stepping under the water. The pulsing heat of the jets on his body did nothing to dampen his arousal.
Draco had been the first person to touch him... there, but Harry was determined that if things were going to go any further in that respect, then he was going to do it himself first. None of his erotic fantasies had ever centred around having anything penetrate him before, but the gentle, teasing pad of Draco's finger when he had sucked Harry's cock had opened up his imagination to a completely new type of pleasure.
Harry spread his legs and braced one hand on the slick tile, arching his back for better access.
Just get on with it, he told himself and reached back between his bum cheeks, seeking out that curled ring of nerve endings. It sort of felt okay... wrinkly... soft and... unknown. Different. Almost subconsciously Harry lifted his foot to rest on the edge of the bath, allowing room for deeper penetration as he gently pushed forward, and the ring of muscle stretched.
The throb in his groin reminded him of his more immediate problem, but he couldn't finger his ass and stroke his dick at the same time, and the former was supposed to be the focus of this session. With a deep breath, it suddenly hit Harry how deliciously naughty this was. His finger slid in another centimetre. How dirty. The second knuckle. How Draco would look if he could see Harry now, naked with his finger up his arse.
All the way up his arse. Harry groaned and hoped the sound of the shower would disguise the noise as he pressed his forehead against the wall for balance, desperately wriggling his finger while tugging on his painfully hard dick, coming with ferocious grunts and watching through the steam as the evidence was washed down the drain.
He washed his hands twice before leaving the bathroom.
The smell of coffee drew Harry to the kitchen, the sight of a dishevelled Draco with a sleeping Bear on one shoulder and a mug in the opposite hand kept him there.
Draco smiled with the slow, easy grace of someone who'd been awake for a long, long time. He was wearing tight black boxers that seemed to emphasise his long, lean legs which were covered in pale fuzzy hair, and a plain white t shirt that was stretched tight across his chest. There were bags under Draco's eyes, but that didn't make him any less beautiful.
Harry took long strides to cross the kitchen, standing right in Draco's space so close he could hear Bear's soft, snuffly snores and after just a moment's hesitation, leaned in and captured a full bottom lip between both of his in a soft kiss.
Neither man moved for heartbeats they both counted, then Harry moved his lips carefully. Dry skin slid easily against dry, coffee scented skin and two unshaven jaws rubbed against each other.
Harry pulled away first with his eyes still closed, and turned to leave.
"Hey," Draco said quietly, careful not to wake the baby. "Hey, Harry, wait. For fuck's sake. You can't kiss me like that then leave."
"How should I kiss you so I can leave after?" Harry asked drily.
He heard the clink of porcelain meeting marble worktop and a hand fisted the hem of his t- shirt, tugging him one stumbling step backwards. A warm mouth attached itself to the junction of his neck and shoulder. Still, Harry couldn't turn around.
"Bear has to come first," Harry said, trying to explain.
"Bear comes first for me, too," Draco agreed. "It doesn't mean I can't make you a close second."
"Draco, I... This is going to sound horribly clichéd, but I really need some space to think." He took a deep breath, trying to gauge Draco's reaction. "Would you mind if I go over to George's shop this morning?"
Draco sighed but nodded. "Yeah. That's fine."
"Sure?" Harry pressed. "Tell me if it's not."
"No, I don't mind. I just really wish I knew what you were thinking."
"I'll figure it out. Then I'll let you know."
xXx
When Harry returned home there were three flying objects waiting for him in the middle of the hallway: his snitch, the conspectus charm, which showed an empty crib, and an intricately folded origami crane that was slowly flapping its wings to stay afloat. Harry reached for the paper first, unfolding it to reveal Draco's message.
We're outside in the garden. Come join us when you get home.
Harry looked down at his feet, which were still stamping off the snow and trying to warm up. The winter in London was harsh and unforgiving, and as they edged ever closer to Christmas the weather seemed determined to match the picture perfect cards that they were receiving almost daily.
The garden? Really?
He left his coat on as he walked through the house, catching and pocketing his snitch after a few moments of teasing chase and shivered through the courtyard to the door he certainly hadn't ever seen before, let alone opened.
When his gloved hand pulled the rickety wooden door wide, his jaw dropped.
He checked behind him, where the snow was still swirling down from the thick grey sky, then back through the open doorway to where spring was blooming in all its glory; flower beds bursting with plants of every colour and shape imaginable, and a few more besides, butterflies and thick springy grass and a blue sky with soft, wispy clouds...
"Close the door, you're letting the cold in," Draco called.
Draco.
He was lying on his back in the grass, his legs bent with his feet planted firmly on the floor, with Bear sitting on his lap and leaning back against his thighs. Harry shut the door and was immediately hit with the warmth. He pulled off his thick winter coat and hung it on a nail, conveniently placed just next to the door in the red brick wall.
"What the hell?" Harry asked as he unwound his scarf from his neck and sat down next to Draco in the grass.
"What?"
"This place... it's summer."
"Of course it is. There's a year- round season charm on the place. My mother has one on one of her gardens."
"Oh," Harry said, running his fingers through the grass while giving the gold and red tasselled end of his scarf to Bear to play with, making Draco frown. "I've never seen this before."
"It's an old, pureblood thing," Draco explained. "Usually you have to keep recasting the charm over and over to keep the other seasons out, but this house seems to defy all of the usual rules. Lie back, will you, you're making the place look untidy."
Harry smiled and complied, taking his jumper off too and balling it up for a pillow to go under his head. He wasn't going to mention the fact that Draco was wearing a short sleeved t- shirt. And the bandage was still off. It was far too warm out here for long sleeves, clearly, but that Draco was wearing it at all was a huge improvement on where they were before.
He hummed in pleasure as the sun warmed his face.
"This is nice. How long have you been out here? Do we need to watch Bear in case he burns?"
"He won't burn," Draco said softly while attempting to surreptitiously turn green to red and gold to silver as Bear pulled on the wool of the scarf. Harry kept intercepting his wandless spells though. Neither of them voiced their little silent back and forth argument. "It isn't really the sun. It's the magic's interpretation of the heat of the sun. He's fine."
"Okay," Harry agreed. He trusted Draco on things like this more than he could ever have imagined.
They were laying shoulder to shoulder, almost touching through the light layers of cotton that separated them, and Harry felt suddenly emboldened in this rich, unexpected Winter sun. He stretched his arm until his forearm aligned with Draco's scarred skin, then slipped his hand around long fingers and soft skin until they were twined together. Holding hands.
They'd done a lot more, obviously. More sexual, more intimate, more horny teenage exploration.
This wasn't any of those things.
It was... sweet. Nice. Almost... romantic, although that certainly wasn't a label Harry was going to assign to their... not-a-relationship.
"Shh," Draco whispered. "I can almost hear you thinking."
"Sorry," Harry said.
"This is okay. I'm not going to run away."
"Good."
Harry kept his eyes closed as he committed the moment to memory. Bear was chattering away to himself in a language only known and understood by babies, only vague syllables recognisable as the start of possible words. Draco's breaths were slow and even.
After a while like this, Draco's thumb twitched. Harry thought it must have been an accident, until the digit started to make slow, calculated movements across the skin between Harry's thumb joint and wrist.
Draco was stroking his hand. And it felt really fucking good.
"Um, Draco?"
"Hmm?"
"You know what I told you about before," Harry said, trying to hold back his embarrassment, "About me being a virgin?"
"I'm hardly likely to forget," Draco said in a familiar drawl, but squeezed reassuringly on his fingers.
"Well, I've sort of decided that Idon'twannabeoneanymore."
"Say that again?"
He took a deep breath. "I don't want to be one any more. And I was sort of hoping you would be the one who would help me with that."
The movement of Draco's thumb stilled, but he didn't move his hand away. Harry went to move, pulling his hand free but Draco tightened his fingers and refused to let Harry run away with his dignity.
"Hang on, wait a second. You want to fuck me?"
Harry flushed brilliantly. "No, not exactly. I was sort of hoping you would fuck me."
"Oh, Harry," Draco said, chuckling softly and rubbing his jaw with his free hand. "I can't say no to you. But I can't do that right away. I'd hurt you."
"Oh. Okay."
There was a burning desire in Harry to end this conversation as soon as humanly possible.
Draco leaned up on one elbow, careful to not dislodge Bear from his perch.
"Would you watch him for a few hours? I need to get some work done in the lab."
"Yeah. No problem."
Draco dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'll leave my door unlocked, tonight."
Before Harry had chance to decipher this message the air was forced out of his lungs as Bear was dropped on his stomach, and a light, upper class laugh floated on the gentle breeze, blown about by the crack of Apparition.
xXx
Draco stayed in his lab all evening, leaving Harry alone with Bear to entertain while his arousal tickled the base of his spine, never really leaving but never growing into anything stronger, either. He stuck rigidly to the evening routine in the hopes that Bear would settle quickly, and it was that or the sweet afternoon air that sent him to sleep right on time.
Giving Harry an extra hour or so to entertain himself before Draco would come up for bed.
It was an hour that he spent pacing, and arranging his sock drawer, and some more pacing, and a failed attempt at reading. When he heard footsteps on the stairs, then the sounds of Draco moving in the bathroom he nearly whimpered with need.
Harry took the few moments necessary to calm his erection so he didn't have to walk through the house with it tenting his pyjama bottoms. He couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Draco was being a lot louder than he normally was during his evening routine. Trying to make sure Harry was still awake, maybe.
A light knock on the door shocked him into sitting bolt upright in bed. He immediately grabbed his discarded book so it didn't look like he had been just sitting and waiting, and opened it at a random page.
"Come in," he called softly.
Draco opened his door and stood at the entrance, leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing emerald green cotton trousers and a long sleeved white t- shirt; a Slytherin cliché that made Harry's insides flip flop with want.
Instead of asking, Draco extended his hand and raised an eyebrow in question. Harry immediately dumped the book and scrambled off the bed, extinguishing the light as he fit his hand into Draco's. He was lead across the landing and into the other man's room.
Harry went to the window as Draco set up a complicated ward that would allow them to hear Bear, but stop any noise from within the room from carrying.
"Come here," Draco demanded in a soft voice.
Harry crossed the room in three short strides and attached his mouth to Draco's.
"Please, take your t- shirt off," Harry asked in a broken whimper as Draco attacked his neck with a very talented tongue. It was ripped from Draco's body and thrown in a corner somewhere. Harry took the opportunity to flatten his palms on the smooth expanse of Draco's back, angling his head back into the dizzying, breathless kisses.
"You said before, you'd hurt me," Harry murmured.
"Mhmm. You have to be gentle and stretch someone before you have sex with them."
"Okay. I don't know how to do that to you."
"I know." Draco gasped as Harry attached his teeth to the delicious skin on his shoulder.
"Will you show me? Do it to me?"
"Wait." Draco pulled back and tried to calm his frantically beating heart. "You want me to show you how to stretch out my arse so you can fuck it by stretching out your arse in demonstration?"
"You've got a fucking filthy mouth," Harry said with bravado he didn't feel. "But essentially, yes."
Draco hitched an eyebrow. "Okay. Lose your trousers and spread your legs."
Harry rolled his eyes but complied, sitting back on the bed and leaning down into soft pillows. After a moment's hesitation he took his t- shirt off too, feeling too weird wearing it and being naked from the waist down. Thankfully, Draco hadn't watched as Harry undressed, instead he had lit several candles and cast a warming spell or two that filled the room slowly, like central heating on low.
He watched as Harry laid back on white pillows and spread his knees wide apart, planting his feet on the bedspread.
"You look fucking edible," Draco said in a low voice.
Harry didn't reply but started to leisurely stroke his erection. It was a challenge that Draco accepted. Climbing on the bed between Harry's legs, he silently Summoned a small round tin from his bedside drawer and ran his hands up and down the outside of Harry's thighs comfortingly.
Draco slowly licked his lips and Harry was mesmerised by the path of a dark pink tongue, more so when that tongue replaced the movements of his hand on his cock, licking a wet stripe up the underside then swirling the head to gather his taste.
"If I'm going too fast, tell me to stop and I will," Draco said as he licked Harry's hipbone. "I'm going to go very, very slowly anyway."
"If you're going too slow can I tell you?" Harry asked.
"No," Draco said, amused. "Going too fast gets people hurt. I know what I'm doing. Trust me."
"I do," Harry said.
For some reason it felt weird to do this with his glasses on, so Harry removed them and folded the arms in before setting them down on the bed next to him. Then he threw his left arm over his face and put his right hand back on his dick.
Draco shocked him again. Harry was expecting for the other man to push a finger right up inside him, like he had done to himself, but Draco seemed more intent on stroking the little twist of puckered skin over and over, igniting nerve endings that Harry didn't even know existed. He rubbed little circles, long, broad strokes with two fingers, teasing pokes... then his fingers disappeared and the sound of the tin being opened filled the room with Harry's ragged breathing.
Then they were back with a slick, slippery wetness that somehow intensified all sensations and made Harry whimper with want. Draco slapped his hand away from his dick, muttering something about coming before they got to the good bit and Harry fisted the duvet in his hand to give it something to do.
Just one finger came back this time, circling his hole then pressing lightly against it, asking for access. When Draco told him to breathe, he did, and relax, and he did, and suddenly, aided by the slippery slickness, Harry's arsehole was full of Draco Malfoy's finger.
"Oh, god," he panted as Draco chuckled lightly and kissed the inside of his knee.
"I think you like that," Draco teased. "I think Harry's a naughty boy who likes having a finger up his bum."
"Yes," Harry hissed, dragging the last, sibilant 'S' out until it sounded like Parseltongue.
He could feel, with acute clarity, the gentle exploration of Draco's finger as it prodded around inside him, gently teasing the rim of his hole with a bony knuckle while the pad of his fingertip did delicious things to his insides.
When lights burst behind his eyes and his back arched from the bed, Harry didn't even know what had hit him. He wanted to pee, then come, then pee, then definitely come if he was just allowed to touch his cock and he'd be spurting right up to his chin...
"What the fuck," he managed to ineloquently gasp and Draco, the sadist, laughed again.
"That's your prostate, baby, feels good, hmm?"
"Yeah. Need to come."
"Not yet. This was supposed to be a demonstration, remember?" Draco's tone was light, teasing. It made Harry relax, funnily enough. "There will be a test at the end. I hope you're paying attention."
The thundering in his chest cavity would not go away as Draco gently started to thrust his finger in and out. Harry shivered as Draco switched it out for his cool, unlubricated middle finger, then switched it back to the warm index finger. Sensing Harry's discomfort (or reaction) to this, Draco did it a few more times until the heat from Harry's insides had warmed both to the same temperature. Harry felt the pressure of two fingers at his entrance at the same time, and it thrilled and terrified him in equal measures, but he wanted this in some core part of himself that he hadn't managed to tap in eighteen years on this earth. He let Draco in, welcomed him in by relaxing enough to let the intrusion pass his tight ring of muscle, and then Draco was thrusting two fingers and gently catching that insane pleasure spot between them and... and...
There was no way of knowing how long this had been going on, whether minutes or hours it didn't matter because he couldn't fucking wait any longer, his balls were going to explode if he didn't release the pressure in them and Draco must have felt this too, because Harry felt the shift inside him as Draco changed position, leaning forward.
Then the aching head of Harry's cock was enveloped in a tight, wet mouth and he was coming as Draco sucked the spunk out of him, swallowing it down again and rubbing both his fingers over that spot, causing the pleasure to keep spiking, flaring up when he thought he had nothing left to give.
No sound from the room reached Harry's ears beyond the sound of his own blood pumping in his head. By the time he'd recovered his senses he was clean and dry and an equally clean, dry Draco was snuggling under the duvet, forcing Harry under there with him.
"You never let me make you come," Harry said, hearing the grouchiness in his own voice.
"Oh, Harry," Draco sighed. "I just had one of the best orgasms of my entire life just from watching you come with my fingers up your ass. You have nothing to apologise for, believe me."
Harry nodded and found the bony expanse of Draco's shoulder. He tucked his head under Draco's chin and wrapped his arm around the other man's back, holding himself close and feeling Draco's surprise melt into something else. Acceptance, maybe.
"When can I do that to you?" Harry asked, just before he fell asleep.
"Soon," Draco muttered. "If I get any say in the matter, anyway. Really fucking soon."