Thank you again for all the reviews!
This is the last chapter of Nova Cupiditas. Thank you for reading.
Harry had the distinct feeling that he was in trouble.
He could hardly blink, so strong was the desire to keep his eyes focused on Draco and see what he did next. He could hardly do anything but pant and writhe and whine. Draco straddled his legs and stared down at him for long moments, and the anticipation built to the point where Harry felt pain clenched around his heart.
Then Draco moved, but all he did was reach out one hand and trail his fingers down the middle of Harry's chest, precisely between his nipples. Harry tried lunging to one side so that Draco would at least touch something sensitive, but that resulted in Draco shaking his head and practically baring his teeth at him.
"No," he said. "Not that way, Harry. Not so easily. You teased and tormented me when I was under the curse. I hardly got to touch you. I think you should suffer the same thing that you inflicted on me, don't you? This is revenge."
And fucking all at once, Harry mentally completed the thought. He couldn't hide the way his cock jumped against Draco's arse, even though at the same time his chest burned where Draco's fingers had touched and the rest of his body felt cold and lonely. He couldn't imagine delaying orgasm for that long, long enough to give Draco time to satisfy himself.
"Why do I feel so many contradictory things around you?" he whispered. "I want that and I don't want it. I think it's fair and I think it's unfair."
Draco's face broke into a smile, splendid despite-or perhaps because of-its meanness. "Welcome to the way that I felt about you for a week," he breathed, and lowered his head, breathing gently along the side of Harry's face.
Harry writhed again despite his attempt to keep still. Oh, it hurt and was brilliant and promised things to come and ached.
"I promise," Draco panted against him, his breath traveling across Harry's cheek and lips and down to his neck, where it stirred a pulse that made Harry arch his head back in helpless need. "I promise that you'll get to come eventually. When that will be, of course, I can't say." His hand cupped Harry's cock as he shifted back, and Harry bucked just from the way his fingers curved. "Will you put up with it?"
The acknowledgment that it would have to be Harry's choice to do so, that Draco couldn't just overpower him and expect to get his own way without consent, only made Harry burn hotter.
The burning consumed his voice, in fact. He nodded and tipped his head to the side, rubbing his cheek on the pillow, a soundless whine emerging from his open mouth that he sincerely hoped Draco didn't hear.
Harry Potter-the man who had saved the world, the research genius who had come up with a partial cure to Nova Cupiditas and then managed to do what was necessary to effect the rest of it-was naked beneath him, reduced to the ragged edge of control by Draco's words.
Draco didn't see how he could ever give this up.
He sat back for a few moments, considering where he should touch Harry first. Harry flushed more and more deeply, and finally gave into squirming, though he had seemed to make it a point of honor to hold still before, his shoulders pressing against the pillow as he gave Draco an imploring look. His hands had hooked into claws by now, and then hooked into each other, as if he knew-without telling-that touching Draco before he gave permission was out.
Draco had to close his eyes. His cock was swelling, and he was afraid that he would come in a truly undignified way if he paid too much attention to Harry without looking at something else for a while.
"You're so," he whispered, couldn't think of a proper adjective to end the sentence, and left it alone. Instead, he bent, doing the first thing that came into his head, and licked a long stripe up Harry's throat and across his face, ending on his ear.
Harry whimpered. When he glanced up at Draco, his eyes were burning all the way down. No shields, Draco marveled, gazing at him. He knew it was the first time he had ever seen Harry this open and unprotected.
When he began to touch Harry, he made sure to keep his touches light, just the faintest, barest, most feathery things: across the ribs, down the shoulder, along the collarbone, around the ear but not on it. Harry started to make high-pitched sounds that Draco couldn't call either whines or whimpers about halfway through it, snorting through his nose and twitching violently whenever Draco touched a new place.
Draco wondered if Harry noticed that Draco himself was nearly as overwhelmed. He was trembling, and had to pause between every new touch to get hold of himself. Every moment, the temptation reached out to seize, hold, grasp, and take.
But he wanted this more. He wanted to drive Harry to the edge of madness, the edge of control, the way he had been brought when the curse was real and Harry wouldn't allow him so much as one little caress, instead putting those bloody blue barriers between them.
Intellectually, Draco understood why he had done that. Emotionally, he hadn't forgiven Harry yet.
He sat back on his heels, temptation a bit cooled by the memory, and studied Harry's frantically flushed face. Then he placed one hand over his cheek and stroked his eyelashes, so delicately that he stood no chance of touching the fluttering eyes between them. Harry's whimpers climbed an octave in pitch, and he sounded truly in pain.
Draco smiled and moved down his body, getting used to the warm taste of Harry's skin on his back and behind his knees, lazily licking his hipbone, moving up to rest his cheek on Harry's belly. Harry's cock was a few inches away, and Draco closed his eyes against temptation.
That didn't help. He could still smell it, incredibly hot and inviting.
"I'm going to suck you in a minute," he muttered, because it had only just occurred to him to wonder if Harry was as susceptible to a certain kind of dirty talk as he was. "Would you like that? Would you thrash and cry out for me? Would you toss your head back and take those deep, gasping breaths that I hear you taking now, or would it be even more dramatic and hard to compete with?"
A choking was his only answer. Draco smiled, and, unable to wait any longer even in the name of sweet revenge, leaned forwards and took Harry's cock in his mouth.
It was like heaven.
Part of Harry, heavier and so still connected to the earth, told him that was ridiculous, that he didn't know what heaven was like and that no sex, no matter how wonderful, could compare to it. He'd had blowjobs before. They had been good, but they'd never been the kind of sex that he liked best.
This time, he opened his eyes and looked down and saw Draco bent over the task, blond hair dripping and falling off his forehead into his eyes, which were shut in concentration. His cheeks were flushed and moving slowly, as though even he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with Harry yet. His tongue coiled and lashed with great certainty, then slowed down and traveled back and forth in long, slow, thoughtful licks.
Harry couldn't help it. His hips lifted, and he loosed a muffled, urgent cry.
Draco applied one more lick and then pulled back, making Harry shiver in lust and longing. His lips were thick with saliva and a whiter liquid; his eyes were so hot that Harry squirmed in place, knees jerking and feet kicking.
"I didn't think that you would interrupt me, Harry," Draco said with a devastating gentleness that broke another whine free from the clog that blocked them in Harry's throat. "I thought you understood the rules better than that. But I see you don't." He paused, staring at Harry, eyes hooded, and then said, "I'm going to give you one more chance." He leaned down and licked again, at the same moment as two of his fingers traced back behind Harry's arse and tapped his hole.
It was too good, too sudden, too much. Harry lifted his legs as high as he could, straining towards Draco's mouth and any other part of his body that he could reach, his cry breaking free in a stream of wordless moans. But soon Harry got his voice under control and resolved it into, "Please, please, please, please."
Draco pulled free again, or almost completely, holding the head of Harry's cock between his lips as he stared down at him. "What?" he whispered. "What did I hear you say?"
Harry held still in agonized paralysis for a long moment, panting, wanting to keep still so that Draco would continue sucking him and wanting to press ahead with his begging so that Draco would do something even more magnificent. But Draco didn't move, which meant the decision was up to him.
A part of Harry appreciated that as consistent with Draco's earlier requests of him even as the rest of him burned in humiliation. But he wanted it so much, Draco's motives for holding back and teasing him no longer mattered. He shut his eyes and whispered, "You win, bastard, all right? Please, please, please fuck me." His last words trailed away into a moan, caused not by the soft licks Draco was giving him now, but by the thought of what might happen to him if Draco delayed any more.
Draco moved back from Harry, blinking a bit so that he could get some of the sweat-and what felt like precome-out of his eyes. He had hoped that Harry would break and beg fairly soon, but he hadn't realized that it would happen like that.
Harry's face was completely red by now, almost as dark as his hair. The flush had traveled down his body, and his skin was only pale where Draco's hands rested on it. When he saw Draco looking, he arched again, his eyes closing and a weak sob breaking past his lips. "Please," he whispered again.
Draco bent over and kissed him, intent on the heat of his mouth, the heat of his throat, the heat of his skin and the burning that threatened to make him desperate. Yes, he would do what Harry wanted. There came a point where revenge was only punishment, both for the person one was taking it on and oneself.
"Lube," he murmured against Harry's lips.
"You should be the one in charge of providing that, not me," Harry snapped. He seemed to be getting a bit of his self-control back again now that Draco had agreed. "It's your bedroom."
Draco reached down and carefully cupped Harry's balls, dipping his fingers between them, running them up and down, back and forth, in parallel paths that Harry could feel but not predict. It didn't take long until Harry was babbling and jerking against his fingers like someone being roasted. Then Draco took his hand away and waited.
"Yes, yes, please," Harry went on moaning, and then stared at Draco in shock before he looked away, a new redness mounting in his cheeks.
"Good," Draco murmured, aware that he was smiling, not sure he wanted to see what the smile looked like. He reached for his wand. "Accio lube."
The tube of it that he usually kept in a drawer beside the bed flew over to him, and Draco slathered it on his cock before reaching for Harry's hole. He became aware that Harry was holding his breath, and smiled at him.
"God, I want you," Harry said, staring back at him with his eyes wide and wild.
Draco's faint amusement melted into need. In fact, now it felt as if he was only that emotion, his skin and muscle a container for it, his bones infused with it. He needed to be inside Harry, he needed to be above him, he needed to be covering Harry's body with his and pulling on his cock. He crushed his mouth to Harry's and slid his fingers hard into Harry's body.
Harry jerked up against him in shock. He closed his eyes and muttered, "That didn't-I thought you'd be more gentle."
"I'll be gentle when we have time," Draco said. He kicked impatiently at Harry's legs, which were still closed for some reason, and Harry opened them. He screwed his fingers more deeply and firmly into Harry, the way he imagined screwing his cock, and Harry made one of his whine-whimper noises.
"That's it," Draco heard, and honestly was not sure which one of them had said it. But the words were there, and from the way Harry was arching his neck, muscles ridged out, eyes drifting shut even when he didn't want them to, the action was, too.
Draco wanted to appreciate things more, take things more slowly, since he'd vowed to tease Harry, but it occurred to him that there came a certain point where the teasing might end and both of them be satisfied. That point was here. And when he pulled away and saw the almost transcendent expression on Harry's face, he thought that point was here for both of them.
He splayed his fingers one more time over his cock so that it was coated with a liberal splash of oil, and then entered Harry.
Harry grunted when Draco pushed into him. It seemed the only sound he could make, and an involuntary one at that, escaping him in constant huffs as his body and his breath reacted to the presence of someone inside him.
Someone so very wanted and so desired.
Harry clenched his hands on Draco's arms and looked up at him. His only consolation at the moment was that Draco also looked surprised, his eyes as wide as a startled cat's, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead. Then Draco bowed his head and pressed his lips together, his eyes shutting while his hair acted as a shield.
Harry said the first thing that came into his head. "What? Scared to let me see what you feel?"
Draco snapped his head up and snapped his hips inwards. Harry was finally able to stop grunting and let out an ecstatic groan instead as Draco hit his prostate. And of course he was grinning over that, the smug bastard. Harry shook his head, contradicting the evidence of his own cock dripping on his belly and the surges of pleasure that made his body practically liquid to say, "I've had better."
Evidently not impressed by the breaks in Harry's voice or the effort it obviously took him to say that, Draco set a brutal pace, snarling in between the grunts he made himself, "I'll...fuck any of them...out of your head. All...mine."
Harry yowled. He knew from Draco's smirk that he had heard it and knew how to name the sound, and for a moment, Harry wondered if it was possible to pull yourself off someone's cock when they were fucking you.
And then it ceased to matter.
Draco was everywhere, the fucking, fucking bastard, moving inside Harry, moving him backwards, shifting and pushing and pummeling him. And it felt so good at the same time that Harry was left wondering why he'd never experienced the like before. He'd had lovers who knew his body better, who had spent more time around him. At times he had thought that the relationship he'd had with Ginny was the most perfect he'd ever have, because they knew each other so well.
His hands grasped Harry's nipples and pulled. Harry yowled again and shoved himself onto Draco's cock hard enough to make Draco's eyes cross. For a moment he halted, panting, staring cautiously at Harry as if that had hurt.
"How can you do that?" he whispered. "You're supposed to be lying still, so overwhelmed that you can't do something like that."
Harry didn't respond at first, shutting his eyes against the heat in Draco's face. His body thrummed, and he moved, helplessly, before he gave Draco a response. That scraped his prostate, and Harry hunched and humped, frantically, shamelessly, before Draco gave in and thrust again.
"I can do that because I can meet and match you in anything you do," Harry answered at last, and if the sentence wasn't as smooth and flowing as he had wanted it to be in his imagination, broken by gasps and wheezes as if he was ninety years old, it didn't matter, not with pleasure filling his head and brain in a muffling, warm wave.
Draco had thought it might be like this, when he allowed himself to dream.
Harry was meeting him thrust for thrust, push for push, eyes flaring with challenge and hips moving relentlessly, so that Draco no longer thought he could back away even if he wanted to. On and on and on and on, and Draco's neck ached with the stiff posture he was holding it in and his eyes felt burned dry of moisture.
Harry's eyes were enough to do that to anyone, that and the fire that burned through them. Draco felt as if he were freefalling when he looked into them. He had no idea where he would land, or if he would.
Inevitably, his thrusts became sloppy as he felt his orgasm grip and gather him. His balls pulled up with a painful tug. Draco hissed and slowed, shortened his shoves, only to have Harry take up the slack and drive himself down with a force that had to hurt. And yet, he kept on doing it.
"What," Draco said, too caught up in the rush that was beginning to consume him to even make it a question. It was beginning far away, that rush, and coming wildly closer and closer, ruthless, endless, making Draco quiver and shake.
"You aren't going to just finish and leave me lying here, limp and sticky," Harry spat, an expression in his eyes that seemed to come from memory, which annoyed Draco, since he had promised to fuck all memory of other lovers out of Harry's head. Though his arms felt heavy and hard to move, he reached up, gripped Harry's shoulders, and spilled him to the bed, then shoved hard enough into him to make his own eyes cross and Harry's fingers to stutter on his shoulders.
"Fine, bastard," Draco said. "I'll give you the fucking of your life, and you won't ever worry about that again, because you won't have a thought in your head that I didn't put there." And he fucked Harry, throwing his back into it.
He watched as Harry's mouth dangled open and his pupils became blown until his eyes scarcely looked human. Now and then he rocked as though he remembered that he was supposed to be pushing back against Draco and hoped to do so while getting some revenge, but for the most part he just crouched there and let Draco shake him. His head tipped back, baring a throat so red that Draco couldn't resist. He lunged forwards and clapped his teeth into Harry's throat, sinking them deep.
Harry howled like a wolf, and came, and came, and came. Draco could feel the spray warm on his stomach and hands and wrists, sliding down like liquid chains.
That made him come, feeling Harry's come, his body locking as he shot deep into Harry's arse, the pleasure swirling through him in a wild mixture of light and noise and chaos, until at last he sank down onto the bed and Harry's chest, satisfied, replete.
Harry had heard about fucks that left someone unable to move after them through sheer weariness, but this was the first time he had ever experienced one.
He tried three times to shift over from under Draco before he could. And when he did, he felt such severe twinges in his shoulders and arms that he almost wished he had stayed put.
"Where are you going?" Draco's voice had more edges than Harry's satisfied mood had let him think it would. Draco's grip tightened on him like bands of forged iron. "I didn't give your permission to move."
Harry turned to him, shaking his head. He was thinking many things, but the one that came out of his mouth was, "Are we always going to be like this? So wild, so jarring with each other? Are we going to carve wounds on each other all the time?"
Draco paused for a moment, his face unexpectedly thoughtful. Then he pulled Harry's head up by the hair and kissed him, tongue sliding around his teeth, stabbing into his gums and making Harry all but choke. Harry ripped free and shook his head, wishing that he was far enough away that Draco couldn't feel his cock already beginning to stir again. "That's not an answer."
"Isn't it?" Draco gave him a level stare. "Yes, I think we are going to be like that. We can't help it. It's what we are, and we'll conflict with each other. I'll have rows with your friends. You'll think my parents are too restrictive and too pure-blooded. You'll want more affection from me, showed more openly. I'll want to come first in your life, and there are times when you'll have to put someone else first. I know that."
Harry started to open his mouth to ask why they persisted with their relationship anyway, and then closed it. He knew. He had worked out the answer himself when he was alone except for Draco's voice in his head.
We've come too far not to at least try.
Draco's hand closed on his arm with an urgent pull. Harry looked at him, and found his eyes staring directly into Harry's own, so bright and clear that Harry winced from them, a little. It was like being pierced directly by a pair of sharpened pins.
"We'll be like that," Draco said. "And, in the end, we will be better than that. I know it."
His voice, so fierce and so near, was persuasive as nothing else could have been. And Harry remembered that this was only their first night in bed together, in so many ways. They had the time to change and improve. It wouldn't always be about ripping each other apart.
It might just be that, at this point in time, this was what they needed.
Harry let his head rest on Draco's shoulder, and closed his eyes. Draco smoothed his hand down the nape of Harry's neck and sighed into his ear.
"You can trust me to fight," Draco said, "if nothing else."
"I know," Harry said. "And you can trust me to do the same thing." He stirred. "And now, allow me to correct a mistake I made earlier tonight."
Draco raised his eyebrows. He looked so beautiful, Harry thought, even with sweat drying on his cheeks and his hair hanging limp.
"I do think I love you," Harry said, leaning his hand on Draco's cheek.
Draco's eyes shone, and if he couldn't yet return the sentiment in words, Harry knew how to read the kiss that gripped his mouth, drove him to the bed, and, inwardly, sent him spiraling into a new battle.
A new life.
A new desire.