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Harry got a lot of flack about his level of enthusiasm when it came to watching Quidditch compared to playing Quidditch, which was a little frustrating because it was only partly true.
The World Cup had been exciting and he’d gone to every single one of Gryffindor’s games, after all.
But he could admit that once the thrill of the first thirty minutes had worn thin, he did get bored. The problem was the scoring structure, he reasoned. The value of catching the Snitch outweighed a lot of the importance of scoring with Quaffles and so the bright clang of each hoop soon lost its sparkle for him.
It was Friday night and he was at the Leaky enjoying some end-of-the-week drinks with a few of his colleagues from St. Mungo's. As it was the entrance into Wizarding London, the Leaky was always the place to be and because of this, it was packed to the gills.
Harry shouldn’t have seen it.
He wasn’t supposed to have seen it.
He’d only been tugging his jumper off, the pub walls almost sweating from the number of bodies inside, when Harry caught a glimpse of gold from the corner of his eye. His attention snagged and he looked. He’d only seen it for half a second before he had tugged his t-shirt back down, the knit of his navy jumper having brought the white cotton along for the ride. It was gone just as quickly as he’d seen it but that tiny flicker of something kept his eyes searching around.
Ah, he thought resignedly. He got it now.
He put his revelatory moment aside to focus on the scent of fresh discovery. He was sure of what he’d seen — what else could it have been? — but the person upon which he’d seen that flash of metal didn’t compute.
There was no way that Draco Malfoy had a piercing. And not there .
He’d opted out of the Auror track but even so, knew almost all of them; working as a Healer meant a fair amount of crossover with DMLE employees, usually in various states of pain. It was nice to see them in this context, chatting and laughing instead of swearing and writhing. Particularly nice to see Malfoy amongst them, relaxed and joining in, leaned back against the wall beside a high top surrounded by colleagues. He didn’t mean to stare at him for as long as he did but came back to himself when Draco met his eye over the rim of his pint and lifted a brow, questioning his attention. Harry had to know.
“Back in a ‘mo,” he told his table and rose, not taking his own eye off him.
He watched Harry approach with a measured expression, not exactly surprised but not sure of his purpose, either. Which was fair enough; apart from a few friendly words in passing or the time he’d fixed a splinched pinky finger for him, they hadn’t really interacted.
Harry stepped right in front of him, uncaring about the sidelong looks his coworkers were giving him, but it was Draco who initiated their interaction.
“Potter,” he greeted, having another sip of his stout.
“Hello, Malfoy,” he said, to be polite, and then couldn’t help but jump right in. “I thought I just saw something.”
He raised his brows. “Oh? Need an Auror?”
“No,” Harry began but then doubled back when his implied offer gave him a reason to pull him away. “Actually yes. Are you available?”
His expression let Harry know that he’d been joking, given how quickly his brows dipped, suddenly serious. “Yes. What’s wrong?” He looked back to where he’d come from.
“No, no, nothings wrong.” Harry was mucking this up. Covert, he hissed to himself. Be covert.
“Can you come with me?”
Draco put his pint on the table immediately and straightened, gesturing Harry onward. He took him through to the passageway that led to the rooms for rent as it was the most unoccupied place he could think of, and then turned to him.
“I just…” Harry suddenly felt foolish, and a bit of a predator. “Erm…”
Malfoy’s professional alertness was slowly fading as he watched Harry rethink his actions, his shoulders relaxing again and the edge of his lip pulling up.
“What are we doing back here, Potter?” He sounded amused. Almost… flirty . Harry’s brain clunked around for a moment, useless as it tried to process that tone from Draco . To him .
“I wanted to get another look at something,” Harry finally admitted. He’d come this far, hadn’t he?
Draco smiled, like he was used to this sort of come-on. “Oh? What’s that then?”
“Can I just…” Harry reached a hand out between them, hovering in front of his shirt.
“Just what?” he murmured.
“Just look?” Harry’s hand, the bold thing, had made soft contact with the fabric. He brushed his fingers down slowly until he reached where his navel should be, anatomically, but didn’t dip down to confirm his suspicion just yet.
“Seems you’re already not just looking ,” Draco said but there was bemusement in his voice. “But go ahead.”
He leaned his shoulders back against the wall and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, a casual pose and one that also demonstrated a fair amount of trust. Harry licked his lips and then diverted his hand to the hem of his shirt and used both hands to tug it up, fingers curling around the fabric as he held it to his solar plexus to keep himself from straying.
The gold glinted in the flickering candlelight from the sconces, cheeky and pleased at him for having caught it. Harry stared for a moment, the reality that Draco Malfoy had a pierced belly button too bizarre to be easily adopted into his perception of practically everything he thought to be true. But then he saw that the tiny ball at the base of the barbell was winged and reality recalibrated in a snap.
Harry smirked up at him. “Wanted to finally catch one, hmm?”
He’d been watching him look at his body with an almost self-conscious expression but at his teasing comment, his face broke into a smile. He chuckled. “Ouch, Potter.”
Harry pressed his lips together to get his grin under control and then looked back at the tiny Snitch jewelry. “Ouch I’m sure. Why on earth do you have your navel pierced?”
“I wanted something I could hide easily,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“I see.” Harry cocked his head, eyes trailing up. “Why not a nipple then?”
Pink had tinged his cheeks when Draco’s eyes met his. “Ah. They’re…a bit too sensitive.”
Harry forced himself to act normally at that and not picture what he might do — the sounds he might make — if he were to pinch one. Or lick it. Or suck on it.
Harry cleared his throat. “Right. And not..?” Harry glanced down to his groin meaningfully.
He gave him a pointed look, brow lifting, and Harry hummed a sound of understanding, nodding a bit manically. “Of course. That’s probably….probably quite sensitive.”
His throat clicked. “Yes, it is.”
Harry had to shift the topic away from his cock or else he was going to really stretch the bounds of what was appropriate in a rather public hallway.
“It’s just an uncommon location,” Harry remarked, looking back down at his navel. “Especially for a man.”
Draco’s stomach was toned, the faint ridges of abdominals and the trim lines leading further down a wondrous juxtaposition to something that was typically rather feminine. The full spectrum of Harry’s sexuality was extremely interested by the dichotomy that his piercing and his body were presenting.
“Oh. Is it strange?” Draco seemed uncertain.
“No.” Yes . But not in the way he meant. “No, I like it. It looks pretty on you.”
Draco made a choked sound and Harry glanced up. His cheeks were properly pink now and there was a darkness to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Dilated pupils, his Healer brain informed him helpfully. A sign of many things but in this case most likely arousal. He tried to shut his brain off but it had never listened to that directive, even when he’d asked nicely, so he gave up and let it run rampant.
“Is that alright to say?” Harry asked, biting his lip with concern. “I don’t mean to sexualize you.”
Draco inhaled and then licked his bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it slowly as he considered his response.
“Don’t you?” he asked at last, tone mostly joking but not wholly.
“Not unless you want me to,” Harry said, matching his tone.
He swallowed, eyes searching his own for a moment before he whispered, “I want you to.”
Harry was already overly warm and those words fanned the flames even higher. “While I…just look at you?” he asked, not sure how far he was wanting to go.
Draco’s jaw feathered. “If you like.”
Harry heard what he’d left unsaid but checked anyway. “And if I want to do more than just look?”
“Potter.” He smirked at him then and the confident curl of his mouth did unholy things to Harry. “I’m literally baring myself to you in a fucking hallway. I think it’s safe to say I’d let you do whatever you want to me.”
It was his turn to swallow, mouth already pooling with saliva at the thought of getting it on him. “Really?”
Draco huffed a laugh, shifting his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, Potter. You look like you want to eat me alive. I…” He shifted his hands again and it caught his attention enough to finally look away from his steely eyes and his golden navel. Down to where he was doing a poor job concealing his arousal. “I like that,” he finished.
It made Harry unbearably hard to see him like that, all tall and broad and muscled but blushing and squirming against the wall because he had lifted up his shirt and called him pretty .
“Okay then,” Harry murmured, gaze flicking back up to meet his. “My flat or yours?”
Draco’s eyes went half lidded at the implication that they’d be going somewhere together, to do something together.
“Whatever you want,” he breathed.
Harry smiled up at him and slowly pulled down his shirt.
Yes. It would be.
Harry went home with him. It seemed neater, somehow, and he couldn’t deny that he was curious about where the fallen angel of Pureblood society now called home. It turned out that the answer to that was a second floor flat next to Hyde Park, something he learned while peering out the window. He had Apparated them straight into his sitting room and he took a moment to look around. It was tidy but not spartan, the colors neutral but not cold, and lit only by lamplight in a way that made it feel cozy rather than dim. When he completed his canvass, he found Draco watching him.
“To your satisfaction?” he inquired mildly.
“It’s nice,” Harry said. “Give me the full tour?”
He intuited his request for what it was and took Harry to his bedroom. The room held to a similar theme as his lounge so he didn’t waste time in combing through his things. Perhaps he’d have a bit of a nosy after he got his hands on him.
He shut the door and then propped his shoulder against it, facing Harry. His posture was relaxed but his eyes tracked him as he took a step closer, and then another. He stopped in front of him, near enough to touch, and tilted Harry’s face up toward his. His eyes dropped to his mouth and then flicked back up. Harry liked his restraint, so he wanted to offer him some of his own.
“Do you have any limits?” Harry asked.
He raised his brows at that. “Do I have any limits? Shit, Potter, what’re you planning to do to me?”
Harry rolled his eyes at his melodrama. “Do you or not?”
He appraised Harry for a moment then asked, “Will you kiss me?”
He blinked at the unexpected question, unsure which answer was his preference. “Yes, if you’ll let me,” Harry replied, hoping desperately that he would.
Draco nodded in the affirmative and darted his tongue out to wet his bottom lip, dragging his eyes there so that when he spoke, he saw the words as they were formed by his lips. “Then no,” he said. “I don’t have any limits.”
Would he really have called the whole thing off if Harry denied him a kiss? It baffled him for a moment. They weren’t friends exactly, but certainly they had moved past the animosity from their school days, so reticence toward something so simple shouldn’t have been expected nor approval for it explicitly secured. But then again, he’d as good as chatted him up in the pub, not even allowing the full shape of a conversation to form before Harry had started undressing him.
Perhaps that was Draco’s modus operandi when it came to taking men home: show them his sexy little secret and use it to charm them.
And perhaps some were more discerning than he about what their lips would touch?
Harry licked his automatically. His own would be touching every inch of him, if Harry got his way.
Which, looking up at him now, it appeared he would. His grey eyes were dark in the lamplight and they held Harry’s for a moment before slipping away to trail over his face, along his shoulders, up to his hair, conducting a canvass of his own. When their eyes met again, his had gone half lidded and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation for what would come next.
But he didn’t do anything beyond smirk down at Harry with that sultry expression. He frowned and it made his smirk stretch.
“Go on then,” he murmured, flicking a brow, and Harry’s stomach flipped at his low invitation, at the very concept of kissing Draco bloody Malfoy. It sent his heart racing.
But he’d done braver things than this, so he tilted his head up and pressed his own lips to his. And once he’d made the first move, Draco let himself go.
His hands jumped up to cup his jaw, tilting him how he wanted and slanting his mouth to deepen the kiss. Harry’s hands found his chest, fists curling into the buttery cotton of his white t-shirt and using it as an anchor when his fervor had his back arching backward, daring gravity to claim him.
He tasted like malt and caramel and Harry wondered if he could taste his own drink on his tongue, and if he liked the lingering bite of the dry white wine he’d abandoned at his table.
Oh gods , his table! His colleagues! His jumper, their unpaid tabs…He’d pulled Harry into the fabric of space right from the back hallway, his hand secure around his bicep as soon as he’d told Draco to take him to his flat. Harry couldn’t believe himself, oh Merlin, what would—
He stroked his tongue along Harry’s, groaning, and any thoughts of responsibilities disappeared as completely as if he’d Vanished them.
Harry sent a hand up into his hair, carding his fingers through that silky, enviable blonde. He always kept it so well styled, as if he got it cut once a week, half a centimeter at a time. Harry twisted his fingers, getting a good hold of it and making sure he felt it: Harry ruining it. His head tilted with the tension.
“ Fuck .” He wrapped a hand around his wrist, holding tight but not pulling Harry off him yet. “ Potter .”
“Too much?” Harry nipped at his bottom lip, flicking his tongue over his Adam’s apple when he encountered it.
“No, just…fuck, I should have known you’d be a feral thing.”
Harry laughed against his throat, sorely tempted to bite him right over the thick cord of muscle which was straining with the angle he’d pulled his head at, just to show him how very feral he could be.
“You did say I had the look of someone about to eat you alive,” Harry reminded him, and then satisfied himself with a chaste kiss to his neck. The light touch made him shudder and the hand not gripping his wrist dropped to his arse. Draco chuckled on his next exhale as he squeezed a generous palmful, the strength of his hand making Harry throb.
“That I did. And you do.”
“And I will ,” Harry promised, then curled his other arm around his shoulders and brought him back to his own mouth.
They made it to his bed mostly upright but as soon as Harry felt the edge of the frame, he turned them so that it was Draco who went down first. He did so, chuckling like he wasn’t at all surprised, and hauled Harry on top of him. He hovered over him on all fours and then pushed himself up and sat back, feeling his belt buckle under him.
“Take your shirt off,” Harry told him.
He curled up instantly, crowding into his space, and pulled it off from behind his neck, his eyes steady on Harry. He let himself look again, taking in what he’d seen in the hallway and what was new.
He was well muscled but lean enough that he could trace the various groupings through his skin. His fingers trailed across trapezius and pectoralis major, down rectus abdominis (which tensed at his descending touch), and then up his sides over obliques, a hint of latissimus dorsi, and up the roundness of deltoids. He was like something out of his anatomy textbook; a perfect specimen to study.
He let Harry not-just-look, preening a bit under his appreciative gaze. Harry traced the line of his collarbone and then finally let his fingers fall away.
He didn’t hesitate. “Now yours.”
Harry complied, stripping out of his jumper, watching the way Draco’s eyes devoured every new piece of himself that he bared to him. He took his time just looking, making Harry’s nerves tingle at each place he put his eyes but not his hands. He licked his bottom lip into his mouth as he took in Harry’s shirtless torso, white teeth flashing on a bite.
“You look so soft.” His eyes flicked up to Harry’s. “Can I touch, too?”
“Yes.” Harry was going to vibrate out of his skin if he didn’t.
His palms were warm as they traced the shape of his waist, fingers almost ticklishly light along the sensitive skin of his back. He shuddered involuntarily and he glanced up at him, smirking.
“Squirmy already?” he teased Harry. “Can’t wait to see what you do when I get my mouth on you.”
Harry almost asked where but realized it wouldn’t matter: even if the only place he licked was his elbow, he knew he’d be a writhing mess.
He had a purposefulness about him which made Harry wonder, so he asked, “Do you do this often?”
Draco’s eyes touched his own for half a second then went back to caressing his pecs. He’d never been not-touched with such intention before and the lack of it was making him acutely aware of how much he wanted it. He was driving Harry wild by doing absolutely nothing.
“Do what?” Draco asked, fingertip flicking down over his nipples.
“Have sex with strangers.”
Harry thought he might be pleased to learn that he would, in fact, be getting sex soon – was hopeful that it might make him speed things along – but instead of victory, his face displayed confusion when he looked up properly, hand stilling.
“We’re not strangers .”
Harry shifted his shoulders, trying to get his hand moving again. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” His tone sounded intentionally casual so he mistrusted it, adjusting his expression to indicate as much.
“Don’t play dumb. I just mean we aren’t dating or together in any sort of official capacity.”
“Ah. Of course. You just fancied a shag and I was the most logical option.”
Harry narrowed his eyes at his dry tone, considering how much to divulge. “If you must know, I didn’t actually want a shag until after I pulled you into the hallway.”
Draco’s brow lifted at that, expression knowing. “Is that right? And what was it I did that turned you on?”
He had another thing coming if he thought he’d back down from a challenge, even one so close in appearance to baiting. He might be the one wearing gold at present, but it was woven into Harry’s bones.
“Shall I show you?” Harry demurred sweetly.
His nostrils flared but his expression stayed playful. “Hmm, you’d better. Or else I’ll imagine all sorts of inappropriate things.”
Harry tutted. “Oh my, we couldn’t have that. You'd probably be so far from the mark, anyway.”
Draco snorted, amused, and looked back down as his hand finally closed around his pec. He gave it a little squeeze that had Harry arching into his hand but backed off almost at once.
He brought his hand back to Harry and rotated his wrist so he could place his hand over his pec. He copied the motion with his other hand, eyes darting between his chest as he cupped and squeezed, appraising Harry. It sent a hot bolt of arousal through him, liquifying him completely when he paired his next twin squeeze with a low groan.
“Jesus.” It was more breath than word, and the dazed sound of it reminded Harry of his original intent: to get Draco making sounds like that.
Harry reached up and brushed a hand over his chest, fingers dragging down down down until they encountered metal. Harry stroked his forefinger over the little barbell and cut his eyes up to Draco’s.
“Lie back now,” Harry told him, “and I’ll show you what made me come home with you.”
He licked his lips and then flicked a brow, smirking. “Can’t wait.”
He released Harry’s chest with a final squeeze, thumbs brushing over his nipples as he went. It was telling, the way he touched him. It had a teasing nature to it, sometimes firm and other times so light it made Harry’s nerves tingle.
People often showed their preferences like that, he’d noticed. In life, and at his job especially, it was important to read the cues from others to treat them the way they wanted: making eye contact or avoiding it, touching gently or using a more professional detachment. Harry enjoyed being exactly what someone needed, whether it was an attentive, caring Healer who genuinely wanted his patient to feel seen and understood, or an aloof medical professional who’s detachment made unfamiliar procedures feel mundane and therefore nothing to be worried about.
So it was second nature to use that hint from him to guide the way Harry touched him now. He let his fingers just barely graze him, his touch drawing goosebumps to his skin, but stopped here and there to press more firmly: over his pecs, around his ribs, down along his hip bones. When Harry’s thumbs coasted back up over his iliac crests on their way to his waist, he gave Harry what he’d been waiting for, his hips lifting instinctively under him and a soft groan escaping. Harry clamped his teeth down on his lip at his first victory.
“Your body is insane,” Harry told him. “How are you so fit?”
He puffed a little laugh and he saw him rake a hand through his hair in his periphery.
“Running. Picking heavy things up.” He shifted again as his hands skimmed inward, meeting just above his navel. “Work keeps me active.”
“Ah of course. Nothing like paperwork to get your stomach toned.” Harry said dryly and he chuckled, accepting the dig on what it really was like to be an Auror, knowing that he was well acquainted with the other side of the job, too. He slid his fingers back to his sides and then under him, running them firmly down the muscles that framed his spine until he felt the top of his trousers. “ Gods , I bet your arse is amazing.”
Draco barked a laugh. “Do I need to be concerned again with why you brought up limits?”
Harry looked up, interested. “ Is that a limit for you?” he inquired.
Draco huffed a breath, hand combing through his hair again and then disappearing behind to prop his head up. He peered up at Harry, cheeks a little pink. “Dunno. I’ve never done it before.”
Harry kept his reaction restrained, even though the prospect of him being curious enough to not give him an outright no was filling his head with all sorts of wicked ideas. “Hmm. Another time then, perhaps?”
Draco shrugged, still non-committal — in both directions — so he left it alone for now and worked his hands up and around his waist.
“So what, it was my body then?” he prompted, hips shifting again in a way that made Harry wish they were naked. “You lifted up my shirt and that did it for you?”
“That and…” Harry flicked the jewelry and he hissed. “This. This made me quite curious about a few things.”
“Yeah? What things?”
“Well...” Harry lifted up so that he could scoot back to perch on his thighs. “You answered the why here , but not the why in general .”
From his new position, he could finally see how hard he’d gotten. The front of his nice work trousers was tented by a slightly left-leaning bulge, the suggestion of what lay against his pelvis making him lick his lips reflexively. He caught it.
“See something else that makes you curious, Potter?”
Harry kept his eyes on that bulge and tilted his head inquisitively as he dragged a slow forefinger up the ridge of it. He heard him suck in a breath and smiled down at his lap.
God , he was so easy .
Harry diverted his hands to his belt and worked the leather tail free of the buckle, glancing up at him as he did. Harry had his whole attention on him now, like every facet of his body was turned toward him. It was wildly gratifying, to be the center of his focus like that. It made Harry drunk with power.
“I think you know that my curiosity is insatiable.” He undid his button and then dragged down the zip, the rasping sound of the teeth parting making his nipples peak.
Draco shoved his arm further behind his head so that he could keep his eyes on Harry as he pulled his trousers open. The pose pulled his muscles taut and stretched the line of his abs in a way that made Harry unable to resist leaning forward and licking them. He grunted, a little sound of surprise and arousal, and so he did it again, more slowly. The little Snitch was taunting him and as he’d long ago decided not to resist temptation, he dragged the tip of his tongue across his skin until it gave way to metal.
Harry liked the contrast; liked the way it clinked against his teeth and how it made Draco draw a breath through his.
“No ones ever been this interested in it,” he remarked. “But even so, you’re making me wish I’d had my cock done after all.”
“Oh?” Harry stroked his tongue lightly along the barbell, pushing it up with his tongue under the Snitch and then using the tip to slide it back down again. “Why, you think I’d do this to it?”
Harry could see how labored his breathing was getting already; could feel his abs when they tightened jerkily under his hand.
“Wouldn’t you?” Draco’s voice was low and discerning, like he’d figured Harry out. Harry gave him a coy little smile.
“I’d do a lot of things to it,” Harry told him. “But I want to do something else first.”
He had barely flinched when he’d had him on the exam table, mending his splinched finger with a more practiced hand than he’d done all those years ago for other patients and then wrapping it carefully in gauze, so he suspected he had a rather high pain tolerance. Which meant he wasn’t wary of pain when he’d declared his nipples too sensitive to pierce. And Harry hadn’t quite been able to shake the image of him enjoying it.
Harry leaned up and flicked his tongue across the little bud experimentally. Draco exhaled in a puff and he dragged his tongue more slowly around the circumference.
“Does that feel good?” Harry asked, tongue flicking across again once he’d performed a full rotation and glancing up. He was able to observe his reaction this time, and so he didn’t miss the way his mouth parted slightly at the sensation.
“Fuck, yeah. It does.” He swallowed, like admitting it was making him nervous, and Harry had to forcibly restrain himself from biting down on him.
“Hmm.” Harry sat back and smoothed his hands over his chest, applying a little pressure as he felt the muscle shift and then swirling his fingers around his nipples and then down to trace the grooves of his pecs. Draco groaned appreciatively, his abs tensing as he brought his massage down over his ribs. Harry kept going until his fingers dipped under the line of his waistband then curled them around and tugged to indicate what he wanted. His hands were quick to push his trousers down, lifting his bum until they were down around his thighs and then tucking his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Harry caught his eye and nodded, so he stripped them off, too, kicking both off to the floor before lying back, naked and gorgeous.
Harry slid off the bed to strip out of his own trousers but left his pants on when he settled himself back over his thighs. His cock was thick and hard where it rested just above him and although he wanted nothing more than to encase it somewhere hot and wet – like his mouth – he had plans to enact first. So after giving it an appreciative look, he ignored it and leaned back over him. Harry made the next drag of his tongue glacial and broad, wetting the skin of his pec and then flicking the tip over his nipple when he reached it.
“Potter–” he began but Harry shushed him, pecking a soft kiss over the bud. He didn’t protest further and so he gave his other nipple the same treatment, watching how they pulled tight as the cool air of the room tingled over the wet surface.
“You look so good like this,” Harry told him, eyes raking over his body. “I like you under me.”
Draco huffed a laugh but it morphed into a hissed inhale when he brushed his thumbs softly right over the top of each bud. His cock flexed under his belly, a damp patch sticking to his skin. Harry sat back and dropped his gaze, thumbing at his nipples again and watching another glob of precum ooze out.
“ So sensitive,” Harry murmured, watching the moisture pool just below his navel.
Draco whimpered as he did it again, and again, mesmerized by the way his body was responding. He finally broke when he leaned forward and closed his teeth softly around either side of one, tonguing at him like he would’ve if he’d decorated himself with metal here, too.
“ Ah ,” he moaned. “Ah… fucking Christ.”
He was flushed from his cheeks down to his chest, the color matching what Harry had done to his nipples. He dragged his fingertips across both, a barely-there touch that had him squirming again.
“Still good?” Harry asked, checking his expression even though his tone had been rich with unmitigated pleasure.
“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he panted. “Fuck, please… please—“
Harry wrapped his fingers around his cock and he cut himself off with a wretched groan. He was solid in his hand and he treated him to a slow stroke up to the tip, squeezing when he got there and savoring the hot slide of precum over his fingers.
“Now, I know this feels good,” Harry said conspiratorially. “Doesn’t it, Draco?” He stroked his thumb softly over his frenulum, wet with himself.
“ So fucking good ,” he grit out.
Harry could see the tension in him, the way he was holding off from thrusting up into his fist. Harry hummed agreeably and gave him another languid stroke as a reward for his restraint then let go. It bobbed over his lap for a moment before tapping up against his abdomen, leaving a damp mark.
“ No , don’t stop,” he pleaded then groaned with frustration. “Fuck, you’re such a tease.”
Harry laughed, his blood on fire and cock straining. They’d slide together so well, he thought, and almost let himself do it; almost gave in to the dull throb between his legs. But he was breaking so beautifully and Harry wanted to see how far he could take it.
Harry hummed a sympathetic sound and ran his forefinger up the underside of his cock, swirling it in a little circle over his slit. His whole body tightened in an involuntary flex, his piercing glinting at the motion. Like a moth to a flame, Harry descended, dragging his tongue wetly up his cock and further until he had dragged saliva and precum up to his navel, wetting his stupid fucking slutty little piercing with it. He groaned from deep in his chest.
“Oh fuck, Potter.” He sounded agonized. “Oh fuck, you’re…you’ll…”
“Don’t tell me this will make you come,” he said, keeping his tone bemused.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he groaned, a fist curled tight in his hair not unlike how Harry had pulled on it earlier. His eyes were locked on his tongue, gaze flicking up to meet Harry’s in a hot touch before dropping back down to his mouth.
Harry flicked his tongue against the barbell. “I know exactly what I’m doing to you,” he corrected him lightly. Harry dipped his tongue into his navel to prod at the Snitch. “Don’t I, pretty boy?”
His hand shot between them, closing around his cock as he hauled in a few heaving breaths. “Don’t— I’ll…fuck, fuck.”
He let him hold his orgasm back, even though he wanted nothing more than to see him come undone, and sat up tall on his thighs.
“Well, you’ve proven how sensitive your nipples are,” he said conversationally as if he hadn’t almost just gotten him off from a single lick. “Shall I test the rest?”
He barked a laugh at that, strained. “If you do that to my cock, you’ll kill me.”
Harry grinned and Draco shook his head like he was in awe of him. He liked that quite a bit.
“How’s this,” he bargained, “you let me play a little longer and then you can come however you like. Alright?”
He eyed Harry intently. “However?”
“Mmhmm. And wherever , too,” he added.
He swallowed thickly, eyes trailing down from his mouth to linger on his torso before dropping down to where his cock was straining.
“Inside you?” His tone implied he expected the answer would be no.
“You want to come inside me?” His brain had slipped to a low buzz at the thought of Draco’s cock pressing up into him.
“I want to fuck you,” he clarified. “And then I want to come inside you.”
Harry couldn’t hold his groan and his cock bobbed between them at the sound of it. He latched onto his reaction like a drowning man. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” Harry admitted. “Yes, very badly.”
Draco exhaled. “Fuck. I can’t believe I just negotiated my way into a blowjob and sex.”
Harry managed a derisive snort. “Hardly. You’re only getting what I wanted to do anyway.”
He shook his head at Harry again, disbelief etched plainly. Harry bit the edge of his lip, grinning down at him for a moment and then adjusted his expression back to devilish.
“I’ll be nice,” Harry teased, curling a finger around his cock to bring it up perpendicular from his body.
He inhaled, held it, and then exhaled gustily. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
Harry had to laugh at that. “Oh Draco, that’s not at all what you should be worried about.”
Harry left that hanging between them as he finally squeezed his hand around him, testing the rigidity of him and then gliding his fist up to the crown to squeeze again. His cock was gorgeous and so flushed that the tip was almost purple. Harry gave him a few slow strokes, biting his lip at the feel of him.
Draco covered his face with his hands, groaning. “Fuck, don’t look at it like that.”
“Mmm but I want to,” Harry purred. “I like imagining what it’ll feel like inside me. Especially this part, right here?” He pumped his fist once over the crown and then squeezed again. “It’ll be a stretch but it’s going to feel so fucking good.” He allowed himself a moan. “I can’t wait.”
“So fuck me,” Draco pleaded, hips rising to chase his hand when he drew it away. “Please fuck me.”
Harry brought his fist back down in a tight glide all the way to his balls. They seized up and he broke off to give them a little squeeze, weighing them. Draco whined and he brought his other hand up to pump along his shaft.
"That feel nice, Draco?" Harry asked sweetly.
"So nice," he groaned. "The nicest fucking- oh shit."
His patience had worn out. He couldn't resist dipping down to suck on the head of his cock, moaning in satisfaction at finally having Draco inside him, the masculine taste of him lighting up his brain.
“Need to fuck you,” he panted.
Yes , Harry thought desperately and let him go. He sat up again, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“So do it.”
Harry waited for Draco’s eyes to meet his own. They did a moment later, the grey of them almost entirely obliterated by black but then they glinted when he saw the look on his face. He hesitated for less than a breath and then he was on his back, his strong hands around his waist, yanking Harry down the bed a few inches back towards himself.
“This what you’ve been working me up for?” he said, fingers already curling under the side of his pants to tug them down his hips. “You want me wild? Want the pretty boy feral for you, Potter? Hmm? Is that it?”
Harry gasped out his breath, adrenaline surging and stoking his arousal to a fever pitch, but didn’t have time to reply before his hand was on his cock.
“ God .” He pumped Harry’s cock up and down slowly. “Shit, is this just from playing with me?”
Harry bit his lip, nodding and getting ready to work himself open. Draco slid a finger into him, almost as if he hadn’t meant to, and then withdrew to rub the tip of it around his rim. His cock leaked a bead of precum and he panted out a laugh.
“Fuck, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you? Been teasing yourself for my cock, too, haven’t you?”
“Please,” Harry moaned.
For a moment, it looked like he might try to pay him back for what Harry had done to him, to get him so needy that he was mindless, but in the end he didn’t have it in him. He’d been waiting so patiently and the prospect of burying his cock inside Harry was likely more than he could resist. He hauled his thighs over his and sat back on his haunches, hands coming under to pull Harry up against his lap. He used his hands to grip their cocks, precum sliding together just as luxuriously as Harry imagined it would. Harry whimpered and fisted the sheets. He’d never needed something inside him as badly as he did right at that moment and knowing that he was about to get it was making him tremble.
“Need it so bad, huh?” He steadied himself with a hand at the base and wrapped his other around his thigh, holding Harry open as he lined himself up. “Show me.”
Harry pressed his hips forward, feeling the head of him breach his rim. He moaned, head pressing back. Harry undulated his hips, feeling the thickness of him pressing just right at the tender place inside him.
“Want it all?” he asked, voice tight.
“Please. Yes, please.” Harry had never been so polite in his fucking life.
He wrapped his hands firmly around Harry’s thighs and pulled his body onto him at the same time that he fucked forward, sinking his cock in to the hilt. Everything fluttered: his hole, his eyelids, his heart. He had never felt so complete. So full.
“Goddamnit.” He panted for a moment. “You are…so tight.”
He watched himself fuck Harry for a few thrusts, his mouth dropping open, his hands still over his thighs to keep him where he wanted. The intensity of the first few strokes finally mellowed enough for Harry to open his eyes, staring at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing back in any sort of measured rhythm.
“Ever thought about getting a piercing?” Draco asked.
It took Harry a moment to parse his words. “What?”
He slid his hand up his thigh and over his pelvis, wrapping around the tip of his cock.
“Just here…?” He pinched his thumb and forefinger over the top of the fleshy ridge, pronounced with how swollen it had gotten, simulating the pressure of a barbell. Harry groaned.
“ God,” he choked out and Draco’s eyes flicked up to Harry’s, the edge of his mouth lifting.
He kept his fingers where they were and then slowly pulled his cock out of him. Harry canted his hips up to chase Draco’s cock. He moved with him, keeping the tip of his cock inside Harry and slowly worked his hand up and around Harry’s thick cock, eyes flicking from the motion up to catch his expression. Whatever his face was doing made his mouth curl up with wicked delight. He held his gaze as he slid his thumb over the sensitive tip, then with a quick motion, thrust his cock back in, deep.
A sound escaped Harry that he’d never heard from himself before, something guttural and whiny.
“Shit.” He pulled back and did it again.
“Draco,” Harry groaned. “Oh my god .”
“Yeah?” He was fucking Harry properly now, the hand not stroking his cock gliding up to hold his waist. “Is it good, darling?”
Harry’s cock answered for him, pulsing out another drop of precum as he felt the heat of his orgasm approaching. He was making Harry wild; a desperate creature whose only purpose was to take this man’s cock until he was coming on it for him. He was drawing all sorts of depravity out of Harry that he’d never known about; drawing out all manner of involuntary sounds: keening gasps and cut-off moans and filthy, slick squelches.
“Yeah,” he was murmuring, when Harry’s ears finally caught up. “Yeah, you love it, don’t you? You’re making a fucking mess of me.”
It was hard to take a full breath, his muscles tensing more and more with every stroke. Draco had unlocked something inside him, something that was making him want to lie there and take it for as long as he could manage.
“Draco,” Harry moaned, and then said it again because hearing his name made his hips slam harder in a way he needed . “Draco. Draco. Fuck . You’re gonna make me come.”
——
“Good, Potter. Fuck, so good. Come on, come all over me. Show me how much you like it.”
He couldn’t have held off if he tried. His orgasm claimed him, the hot clutch of it almost scalding in its intensity, the resounding waves almost as intense as the first crash.
When he resurfaced enough to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was his face. Draco had his bottom lip firmly between his teeth, brows pulled together. He groaned when he saw that his awareness had returned.
“Fucking Christ , that almost got me,” he whined. “That was so sexy. So tight. Shit . Was it a good one?”
His heart was racing, exhilarated by his orgasm and the rush of endorphins. “That might be the hardest I’ve ever com in a while.”
“God.” He dropped his head, his blond hair almost long enough to brush against Harry’s cheeks. “That’s so good, Potter. Fuck, that makes me so proud.”
Harry wanted to kill him — he wanted to hug him. He wasn’t playing fair, giving him the best orgasm of his life, coming untouched and then spouting off like that. Harry pushed his hands through his blonde hair, tugging his face up and then crushing their lips together. Draco whimpered against his mouth and he nipped at his lip in response.
“Get on your back,” Harry told him between kisses.
He rolled them without hesitation, grabbing handfuls of his arse as soon as he was able.
“Love it like this,” Draco mumbled, grinding Harry back and forth on him, fingers dimpling his flesh. “Love being fucked.”
Harry fell forward and dug his fingers into his chest, sure his nails were clawing into him and not giving a single fuck. Draco groaned, head pressing back so his throat was bared.
“You are such a slut,” Harry hissed, rocking on him. “Have the dirtiest fucking mouth.”
“You like it.” He snaked a hand up to Harry’s chest, thumbing at his nipple. His spine curled in at the bolt of pleasure that shot through him, hips jerking against his pelvis.
“I fucking love it,” Harry moaned. “Oh… oh, do that again.”
He did, bringing his other hand up to copy the motion. With both hands on his pecs instead of encouraging his hips, his rhythm began to falter. He rocked his pelvis under Harry.
“Oh, don’t slow down. Keep going, keep going.”
Harry did his best, thighs burning and brain slowly shutting down. All he could think about was the way that his cock was stroking inside him; how sexy he was, panting under Harry, desperate to come after having been brought to the edge twice already. And then his eyes dropped to the little gold barbell, glinting up at him amidst all the pale, sweaty muscle below him, and he felt his cock begin to harden again.
“Do you need to come again?”
Harry could only nod, speech absolutely beyond his cognitive abilities as he ground himself on his lap. It was good, it was so good , but it wasn’t enough.
“More,” he begged, hoping he knew what Harry meant. “Please, more.”
His hand fisted in Harry’s hair without hesitation and he craned his neck to raise his head until his forehead ground against his own while his other hand gripped his arse. His touch hurt but in the perfect way, making Harry’s entire body tense on top of his. And then he was fucking up into him, his hips unrelenting, pounding so hard that were it not for his iron grip on Harry, he’d be bouncing. Instead, all that power was being diverted right against his hole every time his pelvis connected, his cock hitting his prostate. Harry wanted to cry with relief.
“ Fuck. ” He bit out the word. “ Shit , I can’t do this for long…I–fuck, fuck, I need to come.” Draco whimpered, broken and helpless. “Please, I need to come so badly.”
“It’s so good, Draco,” he panted. “It’s… so…good.”
He kept his insane intensity for a handful of breaths and then was swearing, sucking in a breath and whining it out as it all became too much for him. Harry felt the moment he couldn’t hold off any longer, his hands tightening each place he held him as his breath caught on a chest-deep groan.
“Oh fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, Potter, I can’t— ohh fuck, m’coming.”
But even as he groaned through his orgasm, he kept driving into Harry, ceaseless even when he felt his cum spilling out of him with the motion of his cock. The slickness of it – the reality that he’d made Draco come yet he still wasn’t stopping – sent his cock spurting everywhere, coming untouched so hard his vision whited out.
Harry collapsed on him, forehead still pressed against his, Draco’s hand still tangled in his hair. He tilted his chin and kissed him then broke off, breathless. They panted together, so close Harry could almost blame his dizziness on the incorrect ratio of oxygen to carbon dioxide, but then he rolled them to their sides and he got a full lungful and knew it wasn’t that.
He had, plain and simple, blown his mind. It sent a bubble of laughter up through Harry, and he dropped a hand to his abs, sore from being overworked. Draco’s cheeks were flushed and his hair was a little darker at the roots with sweat, but he was smirking at Harry.
“Oh my god , Draco,” Harry laughed, feeling wired. “What the hell .” He laughed again.
“I’m going to take this as evidence that I managed to fuck you silly,” he teased, face amused and something like fond.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He rolled onto his back, getting his breath back.
He was quiet beside Harry and when he tilted his head to see why, found Draco watching him. Harry offered him a smile, and he returned it then sucked a canine contemplatively.
“You said you’d kiss me,” he said. “Does that mean I can kiss you?”
He’d kissed him not two minutes ago, so Harry frowned, confused. “What?”
“I’d like to kiss you.” His expression was earnest, but then the edge of his mouth pulled up. “However I want. Wherever I want.”
Harry would have rolled his eyes at him quoting his own words back to him, except that his heart was pounding out of his chest. “After today, you mean? Out in the world?”
“Yes. If you’ll let me.”
Harry smiled at that, teeth trapping his bottom lip on instinct but then letting it free, giving him a full, toothy grin.
“Yes,” Harry said. “I’ll let you.”
And then, just because he could, he leaned forward and kissed him.
He kissed Harry back; the first of many.