This fic was written for the wonderful leo_draconis's Shared Bed Fest on livejournal. It was for the prompt: Blaise and Pansy get tired of hearing (8th year?) Draco complaining about Harry, so they knock him out, undress him, and tie him to Harry's bed. As an added safeguard, the bed is spelled to bind Harry as soon as he gets near. Of course Harry can probably reach his wand and dispel the bonds... but what fun would that be? Enjoy!
His Undisclosed Desires
The moon was bright on that frozen, November night, reflecting off the snow that had just recently fallen and illuminating the castle halls with eerie, silvery light. It was one of those nights that even the Professors stayed in their nice warms beds, unwilling to brave the chill on the assumption that the cold would keep the students in bed after curfew. And this was true for most, too.
Harry always had proved the exception to the rule.
Granted, it was bloody freezing outside the common room but after spending long, icy months camping out in the Forest of Dean in nothing more than a charmed tent, he had learned to ignore it. It was better than staring up at his shadowed canopy for the rest of the night, his most recent nightmare running painful circles in his head. Wandering the frozen corridors at night in nothing more than his pajamas and slippers was preferable to lying awake all night, remembering.
His soft, fuzzy slippers, an unfortunate color pink and orange, which had been a gift from Fred and George when he had come out as gay only a few months ago, did very little to keep out the cold that radiated from the stones underfoot. He supposed they were better than nothing and it wasn't like there was anyone else wandering about who might see them. They really were hideous, though, and he laughed at the furry tops of them. They made little swishing sounds as he walked, echoing down the hall. Life would definitely be less colorful (literally) without the twins and all at once, his short lived humor was sucked away when he thought about how close they had come to losing Fred.
Everything always came full circle, reminding him of the horrors that lived in his memories. Memories that he could not escape no matter how long he walked the halls, no matter how far he flew over the Forbidden Forest, no matter how fast he sometimes sprinted around the castle. Short of a rather thorough Obliviate, he was stuck with them and most likely his nightmares for a long time to come.
The hallway ended in a spiraling staircase and he stopped short, realizing where his feet had taken him. If he chose to walk those steps and step out onto the tower, now covered in snow, he would see the place where Dumbledore had fallen, had been hit with a poisonous green curse and been thrown like a rag doll over the edge. If he chose to go up there, he would remember Draco Malfoy's face as he warred with himself, twisted in fear and indecision. He would remember how he had lowered his wand, tears of defeat on his cheeks, only to have Snape finish the job for him. And while Harry now understood everything that had happened that night, the pain never got any better.
Harry turned away quickly, before he could actually let his legs take him up the staircase against his will and practically jogged away. His feet ached from the cold and he realized his teeth were beginning to chatter so it was with great reluctance he made his way back to Gryffindor tower.
It was much earlier than when he usually returned but it really was cold and he had no desire to be sick and sleepless. Besides, if he kept wandering, he would end up down in the dungeons again, sitting helplessly in front of the Slytherin common room as if that would make him appear.
Draco Malfoy, who had shown up at the beginning of the term with several of his Slytherin hangers on in tow, looking tired yet proud, refusing to meet the shocked and angry whispers his appearance at Hogwarts had stirred up with anything less than an arrogant sneer. Ron had been furious and Hermione uneasy but Harry…
Harry had been, for reasons he hadn't wanted to explore at the time, relieved.
Many of the Slytherin students from all years didn't return to Hogwarts. The table had been nearly half empty during the welcoming feast, but among the students that were there, Malfoy sat like a beacon of light, to which everyone else at the table had gravitated to, as if his confidence that he wore around his shoulders like a cloak was catching. Harry could see how the blonde's presence was good for the other children of his House. Malfoy was the one with the darkest history in the school; his father was in Azkaban for life, his mother on house arrest and himself on probation. And that was only because he was not yet an adult when he took the Mark. He was the perfect example of someone who had fallen but refused to let the world know the dirt it kicked at him dirtied him. Watching him, Harry's relief had turned into something more, something richer and the more time that passed, the less he was able to ignore it.
He could not ignore the fact that he thought Malfoy's confidence attractive, his haughtiness and pride in the face of adversity beautiful, his cool grey eyes stunning. With one look, the blond could steal Harry's breath and with a single, elegant gesture, no matter what he was doing, could make the dark haired boy's heart race. In sixth year, Harry had genuinely thought Malfoy was up to no good; his obsession had been for that reason and that reason alone. But now, it had morphed into something else entirely and it was slowly driving Harry mad.
He hadn't been able to tell anyone, of course. (He suspected Ginny knew but she hadn't said anything to him yet, for which he was thankful) It was one thing to be gay and quite another to fall for Slytherin's Ice Prince himself and daddy's little Death Eater, no matter how unwilling Malfoy might have been. Harry didn't think of him like that; he couldn't and still like the other boy. The rest of the world did, though. The students and many of the teachers at Hogwarts did, the Ministry did and all those who followed the press coverage on the blonde's trail most certainly did. But they hadn't seen Malfoy bent double over a sink, sobbing because he had to kill someone or he and his family would die. They hadn't seen him hesitating as he held Dumbledore at wand point, only to lower his wand when he realized he couldn't kill. They hadn't seen him that day at the Manor, when the Snatchers had brought Harry in. Hadn't seen the look of recognition in the grey eyes only to have Malfoy refuse to identify him.
Harry had seen all that, though. Had seen it and had been drawn in by it. And whatever people might say about Malfoy being a coward, it had taken great courage to come back to the school he had helped destroy. The strength of will to keep that pointed chin lifted and eyes calm no matter what insults were thrown his way must have been incredible. Malfoy wasn't particularly good looking. Not in a traditional sense, anyway. He was too thin for his height, which was a good inch or two more than even Ron. His nose and chin were indeed quite pointy and his pale skin made him look like a ghost in most lights. Even his lips, though actually a lovely, full shape, were usually pulled in some ugly expression.
Even so, Harry still thought he was gorgeous. The platinum blond hair now reached beyond the slender shoulders, usually pulled back with some kind of ribbon. Malfoy's fingers were long and elegant and the way he walked, with long, confident strides, made Harry want to watch him all the time. It was maddening and there was nothing he could do about it.
Because, no matter how many times Harry tried, Malfoy refused to go anywhere near him.
He'd tried approaching the blond in class, the few that they shared, on multiple occasions. He had tried in the hallways during and after class hours, in the Great Hall during meals, and, recently, had take to sitting out in front of the Slytherin common room, all just for a moment to speak with him. Every time, Malfoy simply got up and moved away, face as smooth and as readable as glass. At first it was annoying. Now it was confusing and down right infuriating but short of catching the blond with an Incarserous spell and refusing to let him go until he listened, damn it, Harry didn't know what else to do.
He supposed he was lucky that Ron and Hermione were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice Harry's renewed obsession with Draco Malfoy. He didn't want to deal with their questions on top of everything else.
The corridor where the portrait of the Fat Lady snoozed quietly in her frame was almost too dark for him to see. No windows adorned this hall and it was only with long familiarity that he knew where to go. It took several tries to wake her up, including knocking sharply on her frame, before he was able to duck into the darkened common room with a sigh and a hand pushed through his unruly hair. It was much warmer in here than out in the lonely corridors, thanks to the fire still blazing merrily in the fireplace and he took a moment to soak it in.
As his fingers and toes slowly thawed out, he stared into the jumping flames, thinking about how much he really didn't want to go back to his dorm room. Because there were so few "8th years" (as the returning seventh years had been dubbed) who returned, they had been put into rooms of two instead of five. There had been extra rooms never used before this year that he hadn't known about and they had been cleaned and furnished just for them. Harry shared with Ron and Neville roomed with Dean. It was easier that way too, because then they didn't have to remember what had happened to Seamus.
The problem he had been running into recently, though, was that his room was usually empty. Ron had taken to staying with Hermione every night, since she had been given a private room, reserved for Head Girl. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed having another presence in the room, missed the security of not being completely by himself, even if it was just in a room. He had never had such insecurities before but during the hunt for the Horcruxes, there had always been at least one person always with him and he found he couldn't go backwards. It made him even more prone to nightmares and, thus, sleeplessness.
Harry cast a quick Tempus charm and sighed when it read twenty after one. Seven hours of laying in the dark by himself, he supposed, finally turning away from the fire and making his way up the stairs to the dorms. His feet dragged and reluctance made his throat feel tight. He supposed he could work on his Potions essay that was due in two days, especially since he hadn't even started it yet and he had no idea what was going on in the class. It was better than just laying like a useless lump on his bed in the dark, with no company but his own mind.
Only, when he walked into his room and lit the lamps with a whispered spell, he found that his room was not, in fact, empty.
Draco Malfoy was stretched out on Harry's bed, naked as the day he was born and bound by his wrists to the headboard.
At first he was sure he was dreaming. The lack of sleep had gotten to him and he was either hallucinating or had simply fallen asleep while standing in the common room. He supposed it was possible but when he rubbed his eyes and shook his head, it didn't go away. It was further proven real when the apparition whipped its head around as the door opened and started snarling like a trapped lion.
"Potter, if you do not get you arse over here and let me go right now, I will make you beg for death!" Harry pinched himself, just to be sure. But no, he was indeed awake and Malfoy was definitely twisting about on his bed, unclothed and furious. The blond made a snarling noise when he didn't move right away, pulling sharply on the ropes binding his hands together, "Don't just fucking stand there! Help me, Potter!" but Harry couldn't move. His feet were glued to the floor and his knees were locked, for fear they would give out all together and he was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Merlin, he knew that Malfoy was beautiful but like this?
Like this, Harry didn't even think there was a word for how stunning he was.
Or how hard he was just from watching the blond twisting against his bonds.
Everything about Malfoy was long and pale. His chest was slender, little pink nipples standing up from the cold. Every rib was visible, though they weren't so prominent that the blond looked sickly and his flat stomach showed some muscle definition. Shadows hid the part of the other boy Harry wanted to see most, as did Malfoy's thigh, that he kept raised even as he struggled, clearly trying to keep some semblance of modesty. Unfortunately, it only made Harry want him more. He wanted to suck on those hard nipples and lick at the sweet hollows of his hips. He wanted to stick his tongue in the dip of the blonde's navel and follow the line of nearly invisible blond hair down to the base of his cock. Even the wings of his collarbones and the hard lines of his shins were sexy.
Harry wasn't even aware of how long he was staring before Malfoy's desperate shout of his given name jarred him out of his trance. Blinking, he dragged his eyes up to the blonde's face, which was flushed with embarrassment and fury. The grey eyes were looking back expectantly, clearly waiting for him to let the other boy free. And for a scant moment, he nearly did. He nearly lifted his hand, nearly uttered the spell to set the blond free, nearly mumbled an apology for staring for so long. That moment, however, was fleeting and quickly squashed from existence.
Because he didn't want to let Malfoy go. If the blond didn't want to talk to him of his own free will, then Harry was going to make use of this opportunity and force him to listen. The naked bit, he reflected as he closed the door softly behind himself and threw up a Silencing spell, was just a bonus. Something other than anger and humiliation sprang into being on the other boy's face when he realized that Harry seemed to have no intention of letting him free.
"Potter, let me go. Now," his voice was as forceful as Harry had ever heard it but he gave the blond a flat, unimpressed look and perched on the edge of Ron's bed.
"No, I don't think so," Malfoy gaped at him for a moment, looking positively comical with his eyes nearly wide enough for them to bug out of his head, and his mouth fell open, revealing the tips of perfect white teeth. Seeing it, Harry swallowed a laugh and tried to keep his eyes from straying back to tracing along all of that lovely, bare skin.
"What the bloody fuck do you mean, you don't think so?" Malfoy practically shrieked, thrashing enough to bang the frame of the four-poster bed against the stone wall, "You're a sick fuck, Potter! Sick! You will let me go right now or as soon as I'm free, I will kill you in the most painful way I know!" Unimpressed, he just continued to watch the Slytherin thrash, adoring the way his rage was painted crimson on his cheeks. Harry caught a glimpse of the curve of the other boy's cock, flaccid and as pale as the rest of him and thought that yes, there probably was something wrong with him. Maybe it was the struggling or maybe the bonds, added to the fact that the prettiest boy in school was naked in his bed, but Harry was harder than he had ever been in his life. So hard, his erection pressed painfully against the zipper of his trousers and his balls felt tight and hot. Yes, maybe he was sick because all he could think about was some other ways they could make the bed rattle against the wall. Thinking quickly in order to shut up the blonde's continued shouting and his own acute discomfort, he blurted the first thing that came to his head.
"Hermione told me that you owe me a life debt," that seemed to do the trick for the blond froze mid-thrash and jerked his head around so fast, Harry could hear his neck crack where from where he sat. The grey eyes, shadowed in the lamplight, narrowed in fury.
"So I am aware," every word was bitten off at the end, like he was using his teeth to close on them before they were fully out of his mouth. The dark haired boy could practically feel the heat of his rage radiating from the other bed, "So, you what, spell me to your bed and…" he raised his eyebrows, leaving the rest of the question hanging so that Harry could practically see the horrible things the blond was imagining happening to him. He held the furious grey gaze shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't do this. I didn't know my bed would be…occupied when I came up here," the way he worded it made Malfoy snarl again, lip curling and Harry couldn't help but smile a little. It only made the blond angrier.
"Of course not. You're just not going to let me go," the ugly sneer that he had not seen very much of this year was back, marring the unique beauty of Malfoy's face. The pale head slammed back against the pillows, as if he really wanted to bang it on something significantly harder. Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried not to think about what else the word hard applied to right about then. Swallowing thickly, he looked at the darkened window beside his bed.
"Why do you keep avoiding me?" he asked quietly, the words dropping between them like glass stones, "I kept trying but you run away every time. Why?" now it was Malfoy who looked away, face closed off with reluctance. There was a long moment of silence as he waited for the reply he wasn't sure he was going to receive, watching pale hands twisting at the ropes that held them. And then the blond took him by surprise.
"You want to know why I've been avoiding you?" The grey eyes rolled to look at the dark haired boy, who nodded firmly, relief quickly following his surprise. Malfoy sighed, making his stomach hollow a bit more than normal, "Because I hate that the only reason I'm not in Azkaban is because of you. I hate that I have to keep being saved by you and every time I turn around, I see your stupid, arrogant face. I came back to get my NEWTs and that's it. I don't want anything to do with you," hurt swirled in Harry's stomach like a storm and he forced it down with an airy shrug.
"Well, then why are you here?" he sighed, reaching up to pull off his glasses so he could rub his eyes with his fingers. Dull stars burst behind his eyelids and he had to blink them away when he opened his eyes again. His question made the blond squawk indignantly.
"I. Don't. Know!" he snapped, "I was minding my own business, trying to study in my room, something I'm sure you know nothing about. The next thing I know, I was waking up here, surrounded by all this disgusting red, completely STARKERS!" by the time he was done shouting, his face was red and his chest heaved with anger. Harry felt oddly defeated. He didn't know what he was hoping for but it wasn't this. Obviously, he didn't think that Malfoy could have done this himself but something in him had hoped that his wild, ill-advised crush on the Slytherin wasn't one sided. Apparently, that was not the case.
With a weary sigh, he stood and approached the bed the blond was tied to, only to pause when Malfoy tried to scramble away, eyes huge and wary. He clearly wanted to get as close to the other side of the bed as possible but with his hands tied, this merely resulted in his long legs flung towards the edge and his back twisted towards Harry so his prefect, round arse was on display. The sight of it made a spark of hunger shoot through him, despite his raging disappointment that he was having a difficult time hiding.
"What the fuck are you doing, Potter?" the blonde's voice was high with fear, eyes nearly taking up half his face and Harry almost convinced himself he didn't think it was cute. Almost.
"You want me to set you free?" he demanded, already reaching for his wand in his back pocket. The other boy nodded hesitantly, relief washing over his face and Harry felt a moment of resentment before taking the last step to the edge of the bed so he could have a better angle at where Malfoy's wrists were roped to the headboard.
Only, instead of spelling the blond free, there was a shift of fabric near the end of the bed and the next thing he knew, Harry was being lifted clear off his feet and dumped onto his bed with a very shocked Malfoy.
Or, more accurately, on top of Malfoy.
Who was very, distressingly, beautifully naked.
"What the FUCK!" a knee caught him in the thigh. A very naked knee, attached to a very naked body that was struggling and rubbing all against Harry's, who found it rather difficult to untangle himself because the git wouldn't hold still.
"Wait, Malfoy…hold on…"
"Get off of me right now, Potter, or so help me…"
"If you would just wait…" Harry desperately tried to move away but the sheets that had been spelled to tangle around his ankle were too tight and the blonde's flailing legs gave him nowhere else to go. He really needed to get away, now, before Malfoy realized just how turned on he was but in the next moment, he realized it was too late. The blond lifted his thigh that had somehow ended up between Harry's legs and he gasped sharply, entire body freezing, when he felt the hard line of the other boy's cock pressing into him. For a moment, their eyes met, Malfoy's as wide as his own and he could see the blank shock in the grey depths.
Mortified and completely betrayed by his own body, he ducked his head and scrambled back so that he was sitting on his heels, cheeks feeling as if they were on fire. There was no way he could hide the tenting in the front of his trousers, though, not that it really mattered. Trying to think the unsexiest thoughts he could, impossible with the boy he had been crushing on since the beginning of the school year trussed up and naked in front of him, Harry wasn't sure if he should apologize or just let the blond lace into him for being a "sick bastard". It was only after a long silence with his eyes averted and face in fire did he realize Malfoy hadn't said a word.
Slowly, he lifted his head enough so he could look at the other boy from under his fringe, afraid of the disgust and horror he was sure to see. Except, the flush on the blonde's face was no longer furiously crimson with anger. A softer red has colored his pale skin now, touching upon his high cheekbones and slender neck and his eyes, though still wide, were darker than before. The sight of it made Harry's breath catch. Malfoy must have realized this because his face closed off again and he lifted his chin so he was looking down his nose at the boy hovering above him, glowering nastily.
"I knew it," he snarled, twisting again against his bindings, "you are sick. Sick, twisted poof with sick, twisted perversions," Harry opened his mouth to protest, because he was pretty sure he wasn't that twisted but Malfoy ploughed on, "What would people say if they knew the truth about their precious little Gryff-"
At that very moment, a letter popped into existence and fell square onto the blonde's chest, shutting him up mid-insult.
It was made from innocent cream colored paper, a silver seal over the flap to hold it closed with no adornment in the circle of wax. For a moment they stared at it in surprise and a healthy dose of wariness, as if they both half expected it to burst into flames. When it did nothing but continue to sit there, riding the quick rise and fall of the blonde's chest, Harry saw no better course of action than to reach out and open it. Otherwise they would be stuck in a stalemate all night and he was already starting to lose the battle with his self-control. (Because, Merlin on a stick, Malfoy was right there and he was fucking naked. Harry suspected he was a bit fixated on this fact).
"Is this another trick, Potter?" the blond asked, voice a little higher than usual as his grey eyes narrowed with suspicion. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled a small piece of parchment from the envelope.
"It wasn't a trick to start with, Malfoy," he sighed, already tired of this. And then nearly fell off the bed in shock when he read the neat, rolling script, written in green ink and making his eyes fairly bug from his head.
This letter was spelled to only show up if Draco continued to deny the fact that he has wanted to shag you since the beginning of fifth year. Though it may not be necessary, knowing Draco it most likely will be. Don't let him fool you; he's been talking about you non stop for years and quite frankly, both me and Blaise are sick of listening to him whine. We practically gift-wrapped him for you and, according to the girl-Weasley, you won't let this opportunity go to waste.
We love Draco but you've never been on the receiving end of one of his rants. Which are mostly about you.
Don't muck this up, Potter.
Harry gaped at the paper for what felt like, ages, reading it twice and then a third time, just to make sure. He felt like he had been hit round the back of the head with a Bludgeoning curse because this was what he had been pining after for months and everything he needed, including approval from third parties, was right in front of him. The grey eyes of his one-time rival were fixed on his face and they were practically slits, they were so narrow.
"What is that?" the blond demanded in a hiss, unable to hide the nervous hitch in his voice. Silently, Harry held the letter out for him, forgetting the other boy was trussed up to the headboard. His fingers vibrated slightly where they held the paper, crinkled a bit from his grip and he looked off to the side because the affect the words Parkinson had written was practically permission for him to fuck the blond. He didn't trust himself if he was looking at Malfoy. Who gave a low growl that went straight to Harry's throbbing cock a moment later, "I don't know if you've noticed, you absolute buffoon," the blond began, sounding so reasonable Harry found his gaze swinging back to find himself caught in a gale of fury before Malfoy practically bellowed, "but MY FUCKING HANDS ARE TIED!"
Harry winced, "Sorry," feeling like a complete moron and held the letter so that Malfoy could read it without having to lift his head. He could feel the other boys calves pressed against his own, the pale knees drawn up in a vain sense of modesty and did his best not to think about it, even though that was all he could think about at the moment. There was a breath or two of silence before Malfoy started to thrash again, managing to knock the letter from Harry's hands.
"Those fucking traitors!" he screamed, nearly kicking the dark haired boy in the head, "I'll kill them! They will wish they had never been born!" Harry ducked another flying foot and caught the slender ankle when it came back around, pinning it to the bed. Malfoy continued to rage, so angry his face was nearly crimson and his teeth looked sharp enough to bite through metal, "Let me go, Potter, so I can eviscerate them, those fucking pieces of—" Harry snagged the blonde's other ankle and leaned forward, heart beating painfully fast in his chest.
"Is it true?" he demanded, cutting the other boy off mid-rant as he pinned the slender legs to the bed. Malfoy's grey eyes were huge with surprise, making him look a little bit like an owl caught in the sudden light of aLumos. Then he turned his head away, face burning as he shifted uncomfortably.
"Of, of course it's not bloody true," the other boy snapped but it sounded a little weak even to Harry's ears. Malfoy shifted again, his hips moving against the wrinkled sheets and the dark haired boy couldn't help but drag his gaze down the length of the pale, lithe body, hot want surging like a tidal wave in his blood. Then his breath ran short because, there, between the shadowed hollows of Malfoy's hips was his cock, almost completely hard and curving up towards the flat plane of his stomach.
Harry's mouth went dry and he almost moaned aloud at the sight. Leaning forward, he let go of the blonde's ankles and hovered over him, taking note of the nervous flutter of Malfoy's pulse in the beautiful line of his neck.
"You're lying," he whispered, lips brushing against the silvery blond hair near the other boy's ear and, with out further hesitation, reached between them and curled his hand firmly around Malfoy's cock.
The blond bucked against his hand and gasped, jerking hard against the magical bonds holding his wrists. Harry winced when he realized the skin there was beginning to bruise but there was no way he was going to let the other boy go now. Not when he was finally getting somewhere with him. There was a charm, he was sure, that would clear them up. Then again, he might like seeing them there, to see the reminders on the blonde's wrists peeking out from under his school robes during meals or in class.
"I-I'm not lying," the other boy hissed, squirming in Harry's hold. It made his cock slip against the insides of the dark haired boy's fingers, which in turn caused Malfoy to suck in a deep breath before his jaw clicked closed on what Harry suspected was a moan. The way his chest rapidly rose and fell, the way his beautiful cheekbones flushed dark, the way his pulse pressed hurriedly under his skin; it was all so beautiful. There were so many places on his lovely body the dark haired boy wanted to kiss, lick, touch, mark that he didn't know where to start.
"You are lying, Malfoy," he murmured, pressing his lips to the blonde's heated cheek so the other boy would feel the words against his skin as well as hear them. Harry's voice was a deep, rasping rumble, barely even recognizable and it sent a shiver through Malfoy that he couldn't hide. Harry felt a surge of satisfaction, "You're hard, you know. Your body is telling a different story with this," and he tightened his hand and stroked. And, oh Merlin, Malfoy's reaction was incredible. His mouth dropped open in surprise and nearly all the silver was blown from his eyes. But what Harry loved the most was the way his bright head tipped back, blond hair spread all around him on the pillow, baring the long, slender line of his neck.
And Harry just couldn't resist. Couldn't resist leaning down those last couple inches to press desperate, openmouthed kisses to the blonde's rapid pulse. Couldn't resist licking and nibbling on the soft underside of the pointed chin. Couldn't resist sucking on every spot on Malfoy's neck that made the other boy gasp and utter these little keening noises in the back of his throat that was slowly driving Harry mad. Through it all, he continued to move his hand slowly along the silky hard length of blonde's prick.
"I'm going to—uh—kill those meddling b-bastards…" the other boy bit out through the harsh rasps of his breath before sucking in a great, shuddering breath of air. And then he did something that shocked Harry nearly enough to making him still his ministrations.
All at once, whatever futile resistance he had been desperately clinging to disappeared. His darkened eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp against the bed. His legs, which had been clinging to Harry's sides in an attempt at keeping a barrier between them, fell open. In his abandon, there was nothing Harry had ever seen in his life that was more beautiful. He couldn't breathe under the weight of his desire and he was so hard, he felt like he was about ready to burst through his trousers. Fuck, like this, Malfoy looked ready to be devoured.
The blonde's head was still turned away, eyelashes brushing against the curve of his lovely cheekbones like pale, shadowy whispers. Unable to help himself, Harry dragged his tongue, hot and wet, from one pert, pinkish nipple to the other boy's earlobe. He could taste sweat and something musky that was all Malfoy, humming softly against the pale skin when he felt the round little nub harden further under his mouth. When he reached the blonde's ear, he stilled the languid strokes of his hand on the other boy's cock and breathed into his ear when Malfoy made a soft sound of protest.
"Was what they wrote the truth, Malfoy?" he murmured, lips nearly brushing the curve of the blonde's ear but not quite. In fact, the only place he was still touching the other boy was his hand curled very loosely around the heated column of his erection, "Have you been dreaming about this like I have? Craving it, needing it, so badly you thought you would go crazy because you thought you could never have it?" his words were making the blonde writhe and moan but when he bucked his hips against Harry's hand, the dark haired boy removed his touch completely.
Malfoy actually whined, face scrunching in momentary loss and it was all Harry could do not to just lower his body onto the sweet, lovely one underneath him and just rut himself to completion in the curve of the blonde's pelvis. Then the blond head turned towards him and the silvery eyes, nearly entirely blown out by the black of his pupils, looking up at where Harry hovered over him, not touching, just waiting.
"Have you?" the blonde breathed, voice such a sexy rasp, Harry's cock twitched sharply against the uncomfortable teeth of his trousers. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself or he was afraid he would simply combust from the heat blazing through his veins. Meeting the other boy's eyes, he felt the weight of Malfoy's redirected question resting heavily between them.
"Yes," he said seriously, because all of that was true and more, "I've wanted you since the beginning of the year," there was a short pause in which he held his breath, waiting to see how the blond would react, knowing the ammunition he had just handed over. But Malfoy's sharp gaze fairly glowed before he tipped his head back on the pillow and rocked his hips up, clearly wanting to rub them against Harry. To which the dark haired boy couldn't help but give him. The fissure of pleasure made them both groan and though he wanted to watch every burst of expression flicker across the Slytherin's face, he couldn't help the way his eyes rolled closed for just a moment.
"That's good," the blond whispered, gripping the rope above where his wrists were tied and rubbing his hot, flushed cock against the front of Harry's trousers. Then, soft enough to be nearly lost in the sound of their rushing breaths and bitten off moans, Malfoy whispered, "Harry," like he just couldn't help himself.
And Harry couldn't wait any longer.
Whispering a spell that would send his clothes somewhere not on his body, desperate enough with desire and the heat rolling through his blood that he didn't even need his wand to do it. Then, without wasting anymore time, he braced himself over Malfoy's body and pressed down until they were connected, shoulder to thigh. As soon as their hard cocks rubbed together, the rest of the world fell away and all he knew was hot, silky pleasure. All that existed was the feel of his own naked body moving against the one under him, of Malfoy's golden hair catching on the pillow as he tossed his head back, of the throaty gasps and low moans the other boy made, of the way the fire flared between them, flooding between his legs and starting to drip in white pearls from the exposed head of his cock.
All of a sudden, he wanted everything, everything he had ever wanted to do to Malfoy, he wanted it all in that instant. But most of all, Harry wanted to kiss him. Those full lips were parted, red from being bitten to unsuccessfully stifle the beautiful sounds the blond was making and he wanted to know what they tasted like. He needed to know. As he rolled his hips slowly against Malfoy's, relishing the increasingly slick glide of their erections together, Harry kissed his way up the pale neck, bared like an invitation. Up, over the sensitive place right under the blonde's chin, pausing to suck on his pointy chin itself, then slow, wet, open kisses until he reached the inviting lower lip. Then he looked into the hazy grey eyes and found them watching him hungrily, without hesitation.
Malfoy wanted the kiss too. He could see it in the way the tip of the blonde's obscenely red tongue peeked out at the corner of his mouth, in the way his breath kept hitching in a way they had not when they were simply moving together. There was anticipation in the way he pulled taught against his bindings and the way he lifted his body to meld against the boy above him.
When their mouths sealed together, it was like every kiss Harry had ever had and at the same time, it was a million times better. There was warmth and soft skin and taste—oh the taste of him. How could he describe the personal taste of someone? Of the way their mouths opened instantly to one another, the way their tongues rubbed and curled and licked as if they already knew what the other wanted, how they liked it. When Harry lapped at the roof of the blonde's mouth, Malfoy—Draco—Harry amended, made the sexiest sound he had ever heard and he actually had to lift his hips up because he didn't think he could stave off his orgasm.
"Fucking hell," the words were caught between them, swallowed greedily by Draco, who barely let him grab a quick breath so they wouldn't suffocate before diving back in again. One of his long legs lifted and wrapped around Harry's waist, bringing them forcefully back together.
He had to lift his head, because he swore he would pass out if he didn't drag air into his aching lungs, pleasure burning steadily through him now, like an intense shower of stars. Draco's lips were swollen with their kisses, open to gasp tiny little grunts as their hips continued to rock together, cocks sliding against each other or their abdomens or the creases of their thighs. It all felt so wonderful, looked so wonderful, sounded so wonderful. Fuck, even the musky scent of their sex was good and Harry was pretty sure he had never been so hard in his life.
Yet, at the same time, he needed more. As good as this felt, he needed Draco in him, no matter how it happened. He needed to see that flushed, pointed face when his cock slid into Harry somehow; his mouth or his arse, he didn't care. Both, preferably, if Draco would let him.
"I'm going to suck you," the dark haired boy whispered against Draco's lips before kissing him, drinking in the long, deep moan his words dragged from the blond. It was all he could do to tear himself away and he couldn't keep his lips disconnected from the blonde's body for longer than a single breath. He needed to taste whatever patch of skin he happened to come across, littering the pale skin with little red marks that would no doubt remain for several days before fading away. The very thought that he was leaving such marks on the other boy was so thrilling, he actually bit the pectoral muscle right over Draco's left nipple.
"Shit!" the Slytherin's back arched at the shock of pain and his gaze was sharp when he lifted his head to look at Harry, "Salizar, Potter, you're a fucking animal," it made the dark haired boy grin up at Draco as he savored the salty taste of the blonde's skin lingering in his mouth.
"Am I?" he breathed, letting his question ghost across the taught peak of the nipple right under his lips before taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue over it. The blond hummed and shifted his hips on the bed restlessly while Harry admired the oval mark his teeth had already left behind. He could feel the other boy digging his heel into his arse as he tried to pull them back together but he resisted, sucking and pulling harder on the nub in his mouth and using his fingers to pinch Draco's other nipple.
"Yes!" the blond fairly shouted it, head snapping back and hips surging forward, knocking their erections together hard enough that the pleasure bordered on pain. Neither one of them really noticed because, Merlin if it didn't feel good. Breathing heavily, Harry caught the other boy's waist with his hands, stilling him before he gave into the temptation of rutting them both into completion. Surging upwards again, his cock feeling heavy and hot when it rubbed accidentally against Draco's stomach, he pressed a few biting kisses to the blonde's already swollen lips.
"I love that you think I'm an animal," he whispered, licking into the corners of the other boy's lips but drawing away when Draco opened his mouth to meet him, "I bet you love it too, don't you?" he nipped the pointy chin hard enough to make the blond squirm and make a little hmmm sound. Sweat was starting to darken the bright, pale hair, turning it the color of honey and shimmer on skin the color of moonlight.
"Harry…please," the breathless sound of Draco begging nearly did Harry in and he jerked the other boy up the bed by his hips so he could bury his face in the blonde's heaving abdomen, digging into his skin with teeth and lips and tongue. The skin was soft and pliant but the muscle underneath rippled and surged.
"You didn't answer my question," he growled, pressing the blonde's hips ruthlessly back against the bed, sucking greedily on the skin directly below the other boy's navel, "Don't you?" he licked into the dip then did it again when it made Draco gasp loudly and thump his foot against the back of Harry's thigh. Ah, so he liked that. Once more, he dipped into that inviting little divot then grabbed the other boy's thighs and pushed them up. It made the blond gasp and jerk, as if he wanted to reach down to stop Harry.
"Potter!" he squawked, voice high with embarrassment and eyes wide, "W-what are you doing?" he was adorable when his voice was cracking with nerves while his entire body was open to whatever the dark haired boy wanted to do it. Everything. The very thought made Harry's mouth go completely dry and his cock actually ached as he looked down at the hard underside of Draco's erection, of the heavy roundness of his bollocks and, between his cheeks, the hint of his tiny, wrinkled entrance.
"Fucking hell, you're beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than to Draco, though clearly the other boy heard him because he flushed an even deeper red and looked away, clearly unable to meet Harry's eyes. The dark haired boy ran his hands up and down the lithe line of the blonde's legs, feeling the lean muscles flexing as he shifted. Draco was like a perfect composition, a painting so stunning, the perfect masterpiece, though Harry secretly thought that no artist, no matter how talented, could do this beautiful creature justice. He waited, just stroking those long legs and waited until the blond was able to turn back and look into the dark haired boy's face, "Tell me you love this," it was a demand, whispered, moaned, pleaded.
Draco tipped his head back, frustrated and still giving little jerks of his hips, groaning at the underside of the bed's canopy, "Harry," he rasped, "You fucking cock tea—Ah!" the dark haired boy raked his nails down the lean thighs, prompting Draco to cut off what he was saying in the middle and though the sound he made was pained and the way he glared at the boy hovering over him indicated pain, Harry didn't miss how the action made the blonde's cock twitch against his stomach.
"Do you, Draco?" the other boy thrashed his head against the pillow and fairly shrieked,
"Yes! Yes, I fucking love it! Now do something, Potter or so help me—" he didn't even wait. He simply jerked the blonde's knees as far apart as they would go and swallowed as much of his cock as he could. It was bigger than he thought and he had to pull almost completely off again because he took too much in at first, nearly gagging himself. But the way Draco cried out breathlessly and tried to jerk his hips up into Harry's mouth was entirely worth it. Luckily, he had kept one hand on the other boy's waist and was able to catch him before he did because gagging during a blowjob, he imagined, could not be attractive.
The taste of Draco was salty and wonderfully bitter on his tongue, the weight of his dick silky and heavy on the dark haired boy's tongue. He had never done this before, obviously, but as he tucked his teeth behind his lips and sucked slowly on the head of the blonde's cock, he found he liked it better than he thought he might. He liked the way he made Draco gasp when he dipped his tongue into the leaking slit, liked the way he strained his hips against Harry's hand when the dark haired boy teased the thick vein on the underside, liked when he murmured incoherently and twisted his hands in his bindings when his foreskin was rubbed and moved.
He teased Draco for long minutes, breaking it up by ducking down and taking as much as he could again before sucking and bobbing his head leisurely. That never failed to make the blond cry out, thighs trembling were they bracketed Harry's head. Saliva and pre come dripped down his chin by the time the sounds the blond were making escalated and he almost couldn't keep Draco from thrusting down his throat. As he licked down to the base of Draco's quivering cock, now steadily dripping down the length, he relished the way their tastes mingled.
Then he moved his head further down and sucked one of the blonde's balls into his mouth and Draco shouted so loudly, Harry was sure the entire tower would have heard him if not for the Silencing spell. It was glorious.
"H-Harry…I'm going…I'm…I'm…" quickly, he gripped the base of the other boy's cock, stalling his orgasm because they would be coming together or not at all. Draco's eyes rolled back and he gave a shudder, gasping as his release eased off. He thought sucking the other boy off would be enough. He thought his desire could be sated like this for the moment but…but he could feel his arousal beating through his veins like a storm, could feel his need eating away at his reason and all he wanted was Draco inside of him.
Harry slithered his way up the blonde's body again, licking and biting as he went, not caring of he broke skin before he sucked the other boy's earlobe into his mouth and rubbed his thigh between Draco's legs against his sticky cock and bollocks.
"I really want you in me," he murmured, not even recognizing his own voice when he spoke and Draco hummed in approval, "But I can't last…I can't…" they groaned together, turning their heads instinctively so they could gasp into each other's mouths. Then the blond was looking up at him and smiling, grey eyes so dark Harry felt like he could fall into them.
"If you mean preparation," the other boy was so prettily flushed and sweaty, Harry found himself sucking on the chiseled cheekbones and licking over the arched eyebrows, "There are spells for that," Harry jerked back, surprised and Draco shrugged, "I read too and honestly, I can't take much more of your cruel teasing either," his voice was so unsteady, the dark haired boy wanted to drink the sound of it. Nodding, he kissed Draco slowly, running and scratching his fingers through the pale, neat curls between the blonde's legs, which made him jerk, stealing Harry's breath away with a sharp inhale.
"I'm not cruel," he returned, pressing their foreheads together, "Teach me those spells?" The spells weren't difficult but his hands were shaking hard enough that by the time he felt the strange and rather startling sensation of his arse loosening, he nearly lost his wand in the twist of sheets when he dropped it. The lubrication spell was easier, more familiar and then he just couldn't wait anymore. He needed this like he had never needed anything in his life.
No time was wasted after that. It was quick and messy and hot. He straddled the blonde's hips, nearly kicking the other boy in the face in his haste. Their eyes met and held when he lined himself up, grasping Draco's cock tightly enough to make him hiss. And then…
The blunt head of Draco's cock breached the loosened rim of his entrance and he was overcome. Overcome with lust, with pleasure, with the need for Draco to be inside of him. So he dropped down, taking all of the other boy's length into him all at once. The blond sucked in a deep breath, eyelids fluttering and teeth digging into his bottom lip. Pleasure made the pale forehead scrunch adorably and Harry wanted to watch him all night. It did hurt a little, despite the spells, but it burned so sweetly he had to lift up and feel that hard erection grind into him again. Then again.
"Harry…Harry…" oh, the sound of Draco's voice as the dark haired boy rode him, it was so good. His face when Harry slid back down again was beautiful and his grasping hands, tied to the bed but not useless, yanked on the ropes that held them. His hair caught on the sheets, his eyes kept fluttering closed, though he tried his best to watch Harry above him. And then he thrust his hips up as Harry descended and light burst behind his eyelids.
"Ah! Yes!" he tossed his head back, crying out because he just couldn't hold it in anymore and bracing himself on the blonde's chest so he could go faster, fall harder, bring Draco in deeper, more, yes, right there. The sounds of them coming together, the rhythm of their connection, it burned in his veins and pooled low in his stomach and he couldn't breathe it felt so good. The world around him was going hazy, disappearing as his pleasure grew and he tried to hold it, he really did. His cock bounced as he moved, a steady flow of pearly hot pre come rolling down his balls and he realized he was going to come without ever once touching his dick.
As long as it was Draco inside of him, hitting that spot, right there, fuck yes, he didn't even care.
"Fuck, Harry, you're…so hot…Merlin, yes!" the way the blond said it slipped into his consciousness, and Harry just couldn't hold on. His release rolled over him so hard and so fast, he couldn't even draw in a single gulp of air. It was like a firestorm in his blood, whiting out his vision and roaring in his ears. He could feel how he clenched down on the hard cock still moving hard inside of him, could feel how his back arched and his legs trembled and his toes curled desperately into the sheets. It was incredible, heart pounding, the best thing he had ever felt in his life.
And he had it with Draco.
For a long moment, he felt like he was floating, orgasm slowly tapering off into shaky aftershocks and all at once he wanted it again, immediately and thought he would never get hard again. Then the boy under him shifted and there were warm hands on his hips and hot lips caressing his until he realized he had been eased onto his back. Harry struggled through a moment of confusion before he forced his eyes to open, to focus, for his brain to understand that Draco was now leaning over him, still inside of him, still hard.
"Wha…?" he tried, shocked when his voice came out as nothing but a croak and the fathomless eyes above him crinkled slightly. Ribbons of white clung to the blonde's chin, his chest, his stomach and Harry realized when Draco slid slowly deeper into him, they hadn't come together like he had wanted.
"You were stunning," the other boy's voice was deep with lust, the words rubbing against Harry's lips and as he was caught up in a deep, fast kiss that was almost too much for him in his post-orgasm languor, Draco slammed relentlessly into him. It still felt good, still made him moan quietly as sweat dripped into his face and his legs were hoisted wide so the blond could go deeper, but it was different. Muted somehow.
Even so, Draco was clearly desperate now, close to the edge. Harry watched his face through half-closed eyes, how the pale eyebrows knitted over his long nose, how his mouth opened on gasps and tiny, catching cries that nearly promised the dark haired boy another erection regardless of how hard he had just come. He noted rather belatedly that the spell keeping them bound to the bed must have released, no doubt the conditions for it fulfilled. Draco's arms trembled on either side of Harry's dark head, muscles bunching as he moved fast and hard. Merlin, the boy was beautiful, whether he was under Harry and writhing with pleasure or over him, riding him, taking him ruthlessly.
Then the cock inside him pulsed and the blond paused in his movements, every line in his body pulling tight. His breathing hitched and his eyes squeezed shut before he threw his head back, damp golden hair flying. Wet heat filled Harry, making him gasp and tighten his hold on the other boy, a spark of renewed arousal sliding through him. But what he loved most was the sight of Draco coming. He did it with abandon, crying out in a series of hitching, breathless ah's and jerking his hips into Harry as his cock emptied themselves into the dark haired boy.
Harry couldn't help but smile at the look of absolute bliss on Draco's face, a soft glow of happiness curling in his chest at the knowledge that he had put that look there.
It didn't fade when the blond collapsed on top of him or when he kissed Harry slowly, their previous fire now banked into something tamer, more controllable. It didn't fade when Draco slid his hands into wild, sweaty black hair or when they maneuvered themselves into more comfortable positions, curled up together on the bed, not cuddling exactly, but touching enough that he didn't fear the blond was ready to run away. It didn't go away when soft Cleaning charms were uttered and sheets were straightened. And as they stared at one another, eyes wandering over each other's faces, the moment oddly intimate, the warm, contented look on the other boy's face never really went away.
"So you really had nothing to do with this, Potter?" Draco finally asked, breaking the silence that Harry hadn't even realized had fallen. One of his golden eyebrows arched gracefully, an expression he had seen many times, though never so close. Once, he had assumed the color of the other boy's eyes was cold and sharp but now, with their faces close together and their skin still cooling, they were actually quite warm, like the clouds of a late summer storm.
"No," he said in exasperation, lazily punching Draco's shoulder and making him snort a laugh, "I didn't have anything to do with this. Though…" he paused, suddenly shy and bit his lip. Only to have the blond gently pull his abused lip free and lean forward to suck on it.
"Though?" Draco whispered, voice sultry and deep. Harry's breath caught and reached out to run his fingers through the blonde's incredibly soft hair as he tried to remember what he was going to say. It wasn't fair that this boy was able to send all the thoughts barreling from his head with just the smallest effort.
"Oh, um…though I'm not sorry it happened," surprisingly enough, the blond laughed but before he could be hurt, he realized the other boy was not laughing at him. At least, not like he normally did, with cruelty and design to hurt. A warm hand curled around his neck, brushing over his ear and making him shiver in delight.
"You're such a Gryffindor," it was meant as a good natured tease; he knew it was but Harry pretended to be put out anyway, ignoring the way the grey eyes flickered down to his pouting mouth, darkening slightly in the soft glow of the room's light.
"There's nothing wrong with that," he defended and Draco laughed again, flopping onto his back and pulling the covers over them.
"I never said there was, you simpleton," and they were back to the insults, though Harry was pleased to note there was no sharp barbs behind them, meant to maim. They shifted around on the too small bed for a moment, having a brief fight over the blankets and then over how much space they had to sleep in. Harry was sure the other boy demand the single pillow as well but he simply lay his bright head right beside Harry's with no word of complaint. The lights were doused with a soft word and then they were lying together in the darkness, like he had privately fantasized about for months.
"What changed your mind?" his soft voice, nearly a whisper, barely stirred the air in front of his lips but he knew that Draco heard him when he shifted his head closer to Harry's on the pillow.
"About what?" they were touching all along the length of their bodies and he could feel the blonde's hand, nestled by his thigh on the bed. Unable to help himself, Harry turned on his side so he could see the Slytherin's sharp profile in the dim moonlight coming through the window and curled his fingers between Draco's. The only reaction he got was a tightening of the blonde's hand around his but that was all he needed.
"About me. About this. Before you were ready to murder but now…" he let the question drop away because Draco was looking at him now and moving his thumb on the soft inside of Harry's wrist.
"Because you were right. I did want it and I promised myself, after the…after…" he swallowed but continued a moment later, "I promised I would stop being a coward," he rasped before looking away again, "But, fuck Potter. You scare the shit out of me," he said it with a little laugh but Harry thought he laughed because he hated the admission. The dark haired boy pressed a kiss to Draco's shoulder and grinned.
"You're not really a walk in the park either, you know," he teased and was grateful when the blond turned back to him and snorted softly. They settled again, Harry curled into the blonde's side and closed his eyes, content to just wait for sleep. Draco's sharp bark of laughter a moment later, though, startled him and he blinked warily at the smugly smiling blond at his side.
"You know I can't let my friends off the hook, even if it turned out like this," he was chortling to himself, clearly already thinking of plots and Harry found he really like this side of Draco, especially when it wasn't directed at him.
"Revenge?" he asked, amused, catching the brief shine of grey eyes in the dim light when the blond turned his head.
"If you'll help?" and what else could Harry say, but yes? They shared a slow, sleepy kiss and then he nodded, laying his head against Draco's shoulder.
"Wouldn't dream of letting you do it alone," he breathed and missed the other boy's sharply indrawn breath at the implication of his words for he was too busy falling asleep, "Good night, Draco," he whispered and had enough energy to smile when he heard it softly returned.
For the first time in months, he wasn't alone. There was someone there beside him, who wanted him and who might even care about him in time, if they gave it half a chance. Though it was because of Draco's friends, and he suspected Ginny too, and because of a few well-placed spells, they were the ones who had been given a chance. A chance to make of this thing between them something, whatever that might be. It was theirs and for the moment that's all they needed.
That night, Harry slept soundly until morning.