|Waiting For Something More
Author: Reiko Katsura PM
One-shot. Harry's getting another kind of entertainment at he and Ginny's engagement party. Harry/Draco Slash. Written for Speedpr0nz.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Harry P. & Draco M. - Words: 2,795 - Reviews: 18 - Favs: 46 - Follows: 13 - Published: 04-04-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5868510
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Waiting For Something More
By Reiko Katsura
Pairings: Harry/Draco, distant Harry/Ginny and Draco/Pansy
Summary: Harry's getting another kind of entertainment at he and Ginny's engagement party.
Warnings: Infidelity (Harry cheats on Ginny, Draco on Pansy) and public sex.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. NCII.
Challenge: Written for speedpr0nz. Inspired by the scenario prompt "At a party" and by Picture #17.
A/N: Hello everyone! I'm in a bit of a rush, so I'll have to cut the pleasantries short. Have a great Easter to those who celebrate it! And those who don't, well, just have a great day!
.Waiting For Something More.
"Hurry the fuck up, Malfoy," Harry panted, parting his legs. His trousers, which were bunched up at his ankles, nearly had him falling over. He managed to lean against the brick wall and kick them the rest of the ways off.
"Bite me, Potter," Malfoy snapped, urgently tugging down his own slacks.
Harry caught sight of a Malfoy's long, pale neck, and grinned wickedly.
"Gladly," he muttered, and leaned forward and clamped his teeth over the smooth stretch of white skin.
Malfoy moaned, his usually dexterous fingers fumbling to unbutton his silky grey shirt, and tilted his head.
Impatient, Harry pushed Malfoy's hands away and tugged on the shirt, ripping it open and scattering silver buttons everywhere. He brought his lips to Malfoy's and swallowed his cry of outrage, then brought his bare knee up to Malfoy's hard, damp crotch.
"Fuck," Malfoy said, and pushed his body close to Harry's. Harry was quite positive that if they moved any further together, they'd become one.
As Malfoy's hand sank down and cupped Harry's aching cock, he found that he wouldn't have minded it very much.
"I want you to fuck me, Malfoy," Harry said. He licked a wet line across Malfoy's lips and his eyes closed as their tongues touched.
"No," Malfoy grunted, tapping the tip of his tongue against Harry's. "Fuck me."
Harry growled. He removed his hands from Malfoy's arse and placed them onto his shoulders, then turned him around and shoved him into the wall. Malfoy cried out as his back connected with the rough bricks, and cried for a different reason entirely when Harry nudged a finger through his pants and between his cheeks.
"While we're still young, Potter," Malfoy gasped, spreading his legs apart and lowering himself further into the strong digit.
"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry snapped back. He lowered himself and quickly tugged off Malfoy's pants, then picked himself back up when the sleek material shimmied to the floor to work on his own tight underwear. As soon as those were off, cast someplace he wasn't quite sure of, Harry wrapped his hand around his cock and tugged once.
"Bloody hell," he gasped, and it took everything in him to let go of his aching erection and prolong his orgasm. The head of his cock was already seeping, dripping pre-cum and sweat, the tip brushing against and moistening the hairy underside of his navel.
"Don't even think about coming," Malfoy said narrowly.
Harry ran his eyes over Malfoy's lithe form and swallowed. Fuck if Malfoy wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Malfoy was all white; like the first sheet of winter snow clean and flat across the lawn. Even his cock was creamy, blushed pink from his arousal, as were his cheeks and neck. Malfoy was all length and leanness. His limbs were long, fingers and toes lengthy, and his softly muscled chest and stomach were tall to match the rest of him. Even his cock—that beautiful, pretty thing—was long and skinny, puffed gorgeously out of a light thatch of blonde hairs that flittered up his pelvis.
Harry moved forward, on arousal alone, and wrapped his arms around Malfoy. He cupped his arse cheeks, separated and kneaded them, then stuck his dry finger to run down the crease. When his nail touched the hard, ridged muscle of the puckering hole, they both let out equally wonton gasps.
"Turn around," Harry demanded, desperately.
Malfoy didn't argue. He quickly rotated his body and pressed his chest against the bricks, then parted his legs further and pushed his arse towards Harry. Harry non-verbally summoned his wand, pressed the tip against the tight ridge, and cast a lubrication charm. Malfoy shuddered just as white oil began pouring from his hole.
Harry cupped his hand and held it beneath Malfoy's arse—thinking it a better idea than re-casting the spell—and caught the oil as it dribbled down. He coated his cock with it, sliding his hand from the base to the wide tip, then moved closer.
Harry held his breath as the head of his cock slipped between the crevice of Malfoy's bum. Malfoy moved his hands behind him to open himself further, and with his fingers still on his erection, Harry pushed in.
Malfoy moaned as Harry entered him, and the sound Harry made in reaction wasn't far from it. He leaned over and pressed his lips to the blades of Malfoy's shoulder and began to thrust.
Harry's dick was on fire, and it felt fucking wonderful. He sucked on Malfoy's skin, scratched at it with his nails, as he pounded his cock in and out of Malfoy ruthlessly. His balls swung with each thrust he took, slapped against Malfoy's thighs and arse whenever they got close. His pleasure only heightened with each sound Malfoy made. Malfoy was scratching at the walls, moaning and whimpering and grunting every time Harry slipped out and slipped in. When Harry reached around him to grab at his cock, the noise that came from his mouth, that muffled scream, was almost enough to make Harry come.
"Harder, Potter!" Malfoy shouted at him.
Harry thought that if he drilled Malfoy and harder he'd break in two.
Nevertheless, he shifted his hips and placed his hands on the side of Malfoy's, flat on the wall, and thrust harder.
It was a wonder that no one had come. Harry had forgotten to cast a Silencing charm, and he was quite positive that Malfoy had, too. It should have worried him. After all, if anyone stumbled upon Harry and Malfoy in their current situation, he'd be seriously fucked. But Harry didn't quite care; not when Malfoy's arse was clenching over his dick and rubbing the sensitive skin in all the right ways.
Harry's balls began to tighten, and knowing what was coming, he closed his eyes and picked up the pace.
"I'm going to come," he panted in Malfoy's ear. Malfoy let out a guttural moan and soon Harry was capturing his come in the palm of his hand, swirling the tip and tugging at the head. Malfoy's entire body tightened over him, and the increase of pressure alone was enough to send him over the edge, ripping an orgasm so powerful from him that his vision went white and he had to lean onto Malfoy to prevent his knees from falling from under him.
It was long moments before Harry could see properly, let alone thing coherently. When the fog in his brain had cleared, he shifted himself so that he was leaning less on Malfoy and more on his own weight and swallowed.
It was Malfoy who broke the silence that ensued.
"Merlin, Potter," he mumbled, his voice muffled from the arm that was pressed against his mouth. "I think you broke me."
Harry snorted half-heartedly. "I could say the same."
Sighing, because it really wouldn't do to get caught standing naked with Malfoy, Harry bent down and began to gather his clothes and belongings. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Malfoy do the same.
Harry got dressed slowly, taking his time in slipping in every button properly, careful not to miss a single one. He performed wrinkle-removing charms on his shirt and robe, and cleansing spells on his pants and trousers.
The last item he worked on was his tie. He struggled with it for a long time before turning to Malfoy and giving him a semi-expectant, semi-sheepish look.
Harry gave him a look as if to say, Well?
Malfoy, the bastard, gave him a look right back. Well what.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you helped me with my tie," he said stiffly.
Malfoy snorted but didn't turn away. He slowly walked over to Harry and began fixing the dark material, crossing it and looping it in ways that Harry would never know how.
When he was finished, Harry nodded his thanks and cast a quick freshening charm on himself. Wouldn't do to have anyone think he smelled of sex. Especially when the majority of the people there still thought him a virgin.
Harry sighed, his back slouching, feeling none too excited about joining the festivities inside.
He caught Malfoy looking at him and quirked a brow. Malfoy narrowed his eyes then shrugged.
"I'll be seeing you then, Malfoy," he said, feeling both reluctant and eager to get away. They had nothing to say to each other, never had anything to say to each other, but Harry preferred Malfoy's company far more than he did the company of the people waiting for him in the Hall.
Malfoy said nothing, opting instead to give a brief nod and turn on his heel. Harry watched as he walked away from him, turning past a mosaic stone fountain and onto the terrace with white, ivy covered pillars that lead to the main building, and out of his line of sight.
Sighing, Harry stuck his hands into his pockets and slowly followed.
Harry's engagement party was the talk of Wizarding Britain. The bash was all over the papers, taking place in prominent newspapers such as the Daily Prophet and even smaller ones like The Quibbler. Harry had only wanted a small gathering, made up of his closest friends and family and colleagues. But Ginny, nor Mrs. Weasley, had wanted it that way. As soon as Harry asked Ginny to marry him (or, to be more accurate, agreed to do so when Ginny confronted him that everyone else was already engaged, if not married, except for them, and demanded Harry to get on his knees and make the declaration lest she find someone else), he'd been completely ruled out of all and any decision making. When he complained to Ron about it, Ron had clapped him on the back, given him a knowing grin, and told him that all women were like that, and that things (namely Mrs. Weasley and Ginny's severe increase of controlling tendencies) would calm down as soon as the wedding was over.
Harry had given Ron a look that spoke volumes of his doubt.
If he were being completely honest with himself, he'd say that he didn't even want to marry Ginny. Actually, Harry dreaded it more than anything. Mrs. Weasley, while Harry loved her like mad, drove him crazy on a general basis. The thought of her actually being his mother-in-law gave him the chills.
As for Ginny… he really didn't think she needed more arsenal to try and take control over his life. Harry was quite sure that, as soon as they married, Ginny would do everything in her power to get him to go to those Ministry functions that she'd always been so adamant on going to. Harry held no qualms about putting his foot down and telling her no. But would he be able to do the same when they got married, and Ginny would be his wife?
Wife. Harry cringed at the word itself.
It was another issue that Harry had to worry about. Sex with Ginny was fine and all, but Harry's interests generally leaned more towards the more masculine side of the river.
In his opinion, cocks and arses were just so much better than pussies and tits.
Someone swatted him on the arm, and when Harry turned to see who it was, he saw Ginny. She was standing there in that ivory dress that Harry thought made her look stunning, with her hands on her hips and an expression of exasperation on her face. She gave him a look that clearly stated her annoyance at his refusal to mingle with anyone, narrowed her eyes menacingly when she realized he had no intention of doing so, and then stormed off with a huff.
Harry rolled his eyes and took another swig of his brandy.
Marriage with Ginny was going to suck.
He loved her well enough. He just wasn't in love with her. Harry was skeptical of that kind of love happening to him, however. He knew it existed—Ron and Hermione were evidence of that. He just didn't think the chances of him finding it were very high. And he certainly wasn't going to break up with a woman who he actually did love and find attractive for a whimsical dream. He wasn't so stupid.
Harry roamed his eyes across the large floor bustling with people, and his gaze caught onto a pair of gray eyes. He paused to take in Malfoy, who was seated a few tables across from him with his fiancée, Pansy Parkinson, and sighed.
They'd been fooling around for months, nearly a year, ever since Malfoy landed a job in the same Ministry department as he. Harry knew he'd have to give up his frequent side couplings when he got married. He wasn't that much of a douche bag. And while Ginny oftentimes drove him insane and he wasn't nearly as attracted to her as a husband should be to his wife, he respected her enough to not cheat on her once the vows were made.
Also, he was pretty sure that the bonding vows Ginny and his mother picked out were the kind that prevented that kind of thing. Harry had no wish whatsoever to lose his cock if he even made an attempt at infidelity.
He and Malfoy continued to, a bit creepily, stare at each other. It was Malfoy who made the first move, swirling his tongue over his lips, parting his mouth, and making a discreet show of adjusting his trousers.
In response, Harry's pants started getting a bit tight.
He narrowed his eyes Malfoy, hoping to convey what a bastard he was for trying to get Harry hard during his engagement party, and turned away just in time to see Malfoy's reactionary smirk.
Harry crossed his legs and set his face in his palm.
Malfoy, the git he was, had a bloody amazing body. Harry loved the prat's figure like nothing else. He was attracted to him, very much so, and knew Malfoy felt the same.
But it was only attraction, and nothing more. Certainly not enough to convince Harry to drop his engagement and leave Ginny.
Sometimes, however, he thought it could be. Especially on the nights when the two of them were too tired to do anything else but pass out at wherever it was they were (usually on the rare occasion they were at Malfoy's flat), and spent the night together.
Being scooped up behind Malfoy's naked body, legs intertwined and hair mingling together, always gave Harry a feeling akin to butterflies in his stomach. He would never admit it aloud, but he loved waking up in Malfoy's four poster, canopy bed with Malfoy next to him. Those moments of bliss usually ended when Malfoy was awake, though, and then nothing but awkwardness was and tension would ensue.
Harry sighed and glanced back at Malfoy. He wasn't looking at him anymore, and instead was staring fixedly at his glass of wine that was getting emptier by the minute.
Inspired, Harry picked up his own glass and swallowed it down. The empty cup was refilled as soon as it hit the table, and he swallowed that one down, too. And then another. And then another.
When Harry was decidedly drunk enough, and thought he could smile without it looking too forced, he got up from his chair and walked onto the floor, ready to ask his fiancée for a dance.
A/N: Hope you all liked this! Reviews are welcome! Also, if anyone is interested, I did some Easter art for our boys! It can be seen at my livejournal (reikokatsura). Cheers!