Harry nodded, and led the ex-Slytherin up the stairs of the dark, broken house. As they moved through the upstairs hallway, Draco saw a room with a shattered cradle and scorch marks on the cracked walls. The windows had long ago blown out. Finally, they reached a room alit with fairy lights. There was a bed made up with deep purple sheets and a comforter lined with silver trim. The walls were covered with swirling patterns of glowing paint.
Harry eyed him with considerable trepidation, so Draco said, "It's stunning." He meant it. There was such a strange juxtaposition of destruction and raw beauty here. It was a perfect reflection of Harry. The raven-haired wizard smiled brilliantly, and something in Draco's heart melted.
Watching Draco carefully, Harry nudged him gently towards the bed. Draco sprawled obligingly out on his back, pale skin exquisite against the deep purple bedding. "Do you trust me?" Harry asked again.
Draco met his eyes, expression open and unquestioning. "Yes."
Waving a hand to Summon a palette of glowing paints, Harry crawled onto the bed and settled himself next to Draco's prone body. "Can I…"
The strange quality of the room and of Harry himself was heady. Draco arched his body up slightly, needing. "Anything, Harry. Anything."
Harry smiled solemnly and dipped his fingers into the paints. "They're magical," he whispered to explain their warm and glowing nature. He paused. "Also nontoxic."
Draco chuckled. "And people think you're crazy for using fingerpaints."
"Shh…" Harry whispered against his skin. "Just close your eyes and relax." Draco complied, and Harry began to paint patterns onto his skin, mapping out every inch of flesh. He couldn't believe Draco was here, with him, no judgment or censure. Just lots of lust, and maybe a little bit of love. He let the magic overtake him, his fingers following the demands of the paint like a planchette, in direct connection with Draco's spirit.
Draco moaned softly at the exquisite feeling of Harry's fingers trailing over his skin, leaving behind warm, tingling swirls of sensation. When Harry began to whisper soothingly in Parseltongue, Draco came undone. The glowing fairy lights twinkled through his closed eyelids, and it seemed as though his body had left the bed and was floating weightlessly somewhere near the ceiling. The magical paint made Harry's hands an extension of Draco's own body. He burned, with a gentle but all-encompassing need.
"Harry," he whispered, and the word seemed to go directly from his mind to Harry's. "I need…"
Seeming to understand, Harry murmured, "Open your eyes."
Draco obeyed, and gasped out loud. "Oh Merlin, it's beautiful." His voice was soft and full of awe. His body was covered with swirling patterns of paint that somehow seemed to spell out the secrets of his psyche. Harry nudged him up to a sitting position, and then took his place, watching him expectantly. Draco hesitated. "How do I…"
"Magic," Harry said lightly. "Just dip your fingers in, and you'll know." Fully trusting, he closed his eyes and let his limbs go slack.
Draco watched him in wonder for a long moment, tracing over the perfect contours of Harry's form. Then he plunged his fingers into the paints. As soon as he placed them on Harry's torso, they began to move of their own accord. Draco could only marvel as his hands danced across his lover's skin, and Harry sighed in utter contentment. The paint was merely a conduit; it was someplace deep inside Harry that was directing his hands. When Harry's body arched upward with need, Draco knew he was done. Following his instincts, he lowered his body over Harry's, flesh to flesh.
Harry's eyes snapped open. "Ssssssthhhaiiii," he swore sibilantly, rubbing his body wantonly against Draco's. Their mouths met in a searing tangle of tongues.
Draco groaned helplessly, overwhelmed, and pulled Harry flush against him. Their magical tattoos rubbed and swirled together, memorizing. The tingling burn mixed with the feel of Harry's tongue left him reeling.
Turning them over so that he was on top, Harry ground down frantically into Draco's hips. "I need…" he hissed.
Draco's eyes flew open, stormy gray meeting emerald green. "Yes." Arching against Harry, he moaned, "I want you inside me." A part of him pointed out logically that he'd never bottomed before, but it didn't matter. He'd never trusted before, either. All that mattered was that he needed Harry to be inside him. "Now would be nice."
Harry gasped, groaning helplessly at Draco's words. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Draco snapped impatiently. "If you don't fuck me right now, Harry, I swear I'll…"
Cutting off his words with his mouth, Harry plunged his tongue in, a forewarning of what was coming. Summoning a jar of lubricant, he dipped his fingers in and reached down to gently explore the skin around Draco's anus. Whispering in his ear to soothe him, he eased one finger inside.
Draco moaned throatily as Harry found his prostate. Drunk on pleasure and Harry's sibilant whispers, he ordered, "More."
Complying, Harry slid another finger inside, lightly massaging the spot that made Draco squirm and cry out. He moved the fingers in a scissoring motion before adding a third.
"Fuck, Harry," Draco growled. "Enough teasing. I need you inside me."
Harry slid his fingers out and hesitated, licking a trail from Draco's navel to his chest, taking time on each nipple. "Have you…"
"No," Draco gasped out. "Doesn't matter, I'm ready." He arched up and pulled Harry's mouth to his, expressing his aching need in a soul searing kiss.
"Me neither," Harry confessed. "I don't want to hurt you."
Draco met his eyes. "Impossible. Just go slow."
Harry reached into the lubricant and liberally coated his cock. Pausing thoughtfully, he pushed Draco's legs upward and apart so he could align himself with his opening. Pressing his cock gently against it, he felt Draco tremble with need and trepidation.
In a flash of inspiration, he leaned down and hissed, "Sssthhhhssssssaiii." Draco turned instantly into a pool of jelly, and Harry took advantage of his relaxed condition to push his head slowly inside Draco's body. It was tight, and Draco flinched, instinctively clenching his muscles against the pain.
"Sssssssssssss," Harry whispered hotly against Draco's ear. "Sssssshhh love, sssshh, just relax."
Draco moaned. "Keep going," he instructed, losing himself in the vibrating sensation of Parseltongue slithering across his body. He felt Harry press slowly in, and he resolutely gritted his teeth against the burn. Harry paused to kiss him deeply and savagely.
"Fuck, Draco," he hissed. "Sssss, ssso fucking warm and tight." Sensing that Draco was still not enjoying the intrusion, he reached between their bodies to grab Draco's cock, pushing himself further in by increments.
The multitude of sensations distracted Draco from the pain until it began to ease, intermingling finally with pleasure. There was nothing hotter than a wet and hard Harry Potter, hissing like a snake against his skin. Then, Harry changed his angle slightly, and Draco's world exploded in a shower of brilliant stars.
"Fuck!" he shouted, bucking his hips. "Fuck, yes, right there!"
Harry groaned his pleasure, intensely happy that Draco was enjoying this as much as he was. Carefully hitting the same spot with every thrust, he gripped Draco's cock and fisted him in time with his movements.
"Sssssthaaaiiii," he hissed. "Oh fuck, Draco, I'm not gonna last long." He began to thrust wildly, leaning over to devour Draco's mouth. "Wanna taste your scream when you come," he murmured.
"Fuck!" Draco swore. "It's coming, oh Merlin, it's…." He bucked violently and screamed as he came all over Harry's hand. Harry swallowed Draco's scream and shouted as he came inside him.
They lay still for several long moments, regaining control over their breathing. Harry lazily waved a hand and cleaned them both, though the paint remained. "That was…"
"Fucking brilliant," Draco finished, pulling Harry down to lie beside him.
They curled together instinctively and fell asleep.
In the light of day, Harry was just as beautiful. Draco watched him sleep, unable to keep his fingers from following painted patterns on golden skin. The raven-haired wizard stirred, making happy little noises at the feel of Draco's hands. Finally waking, he opened one emerald eye to peek at his lover carefully.
"Morning, love," Draco greeted.
Harry grinned goofily. "Morning." A pause. "No regrets, then?"
"I damned well do have regrets!" Draco retorted haughtily. At Harry's hurt look, he relented. "We could've been having hot, mind-blowing sex for years!"
Harry smirked. "Mind-blowing?" he repeated, letting his eyes graze lazily over Draco's magnificent form.
"Years, Harry!" he repeated indignantly.
Trailing a hand over Draco's bare bottom, Harry murmured, "You know; I might just feel inspired to sing an ode to your arse after all."
Draco sniffed. "It had better include the words magnificent and divine," he warned, pushing the arse in question up into Harry's hand.
"Got it." Harry laughed and leaned in to capture Draco's lips in a long, languorous kiss. Draco reached up instinctively to wind his arms around Harry's neck and pull him closer. Several pleasurable minutes later, they pulled away.
"Mmmmf," Draco murmured happily.
Harry chuckled. "How very concise of you." Then, cautiously, "What're you doing today?"
The ex-Slytherin paused to consider. "Well," he said finally. "I've been to the beach loads of times, Harry, but I've never made a sand castle."