Staking Claims

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize as H.P. I also stole the surname 'Brandybuck from J.R.R Tolkien. I admit it, I'm not original, don't sue!

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy! Squee! Also this is slighty revised. My grammer and spelling in this chapter bothered me so much i went back to fix it, no major changes.

***

Draco wondered what Harry was going to do in the hour until they were to meet. He knew that his own plan involved fixing his hair, brushing his teeth and fussing about whether or not Potter actually liked him now or was just being polite. Truth be told, Draco was still easily annoyed by the other teen. Yes, he smelled good and yes, he tasted good and yes, he even looked good, but he was still the hot-headed, leap before you look, typical Gryffindor he had always been.

/Just because I love him and want him, does that necessarily mean I have to like him, all of the time anyway? /

Draco sat next to the window envying the sunny day he couldn’t enjoy. The green of the grass reminded him of bright green eyes and the black of the pavement reminded him of shaggy black hair. Everything, it seemed, reminded him of Potter and he hated it. Why was it ALWAYS Potter? Why? Just thinking of the raven haired boy gave him shivers up and down his spine and lit a slow burning heat his groin. Groaning Draco threw himself back on the chaise he had been lazing in.

“Always-” his voice sliced the silence, “Potter.” He reached down with his right hand, dragging his slender fingers down his torso as he did, and unbuttoned his jeans. His left was flung behind his head as he clutched roughly at his own hair. Sliding his hand into his jeans he pulled his cock from the confines of the denim with a low growl.

“Ahhh-”

The cool air made him hiss but it did nothing to soften the growing erection or calm the raging fire in his loins. He covered himself quickly with his hand and toyed with his swelling head. Closing his eyes and breathing heavily he imagined Potter’s messy haired head in his lap and felt the sensuous scent of the other boy wafting around him. It was musky and full of a longing, burning, desire that spurred feral growls from Draco’s constricted throat. With Harry’s name on his lips Draco slid back his foreskin, fingered his slit and catching a few drops of precum, he slicked his shaft. He could feel Potter’s hot mouth sucking the head of his cock, teasing his slit with a warm, wet, probing tongue. Pumping his hand up and down his swollen member he could see Potter’s head bobbing between his legs, the messy black hair tickling his inner thighs as Potter ravenously devoured his leaking length. With every swipe of his fist he felt the suction of Potter’s eager pout pulling back, the teeth roughly grazing the vain on the underside of his cock before those lips sucked him back in hungrily.


Chewing on his bottom lip he concentrated on the image before him. He could feel Potter’s tongue swirling up and down his shaft, alternating between rough strokes and long, languid, open-mouthed kisses to the tip of his engorged cock. He felt one of Potter’s strong, nimble seekers hands slide itself up under his shirt, pinching a nipple and twisting gently at the hard nub before roaming back down to knead his thighs. Draco’s breath caught as he lifted his hips, fucking Harry’s searing mouth. He took the hand from behind his head, releasing his own hair, to bury it in Harry’s. He could feel the untidy mop gliding through his fingertips as he entwined his hand in the hair and forced Potter’s face forward, bucking his hips up. Harry nuzzled his nose in Draco’s blond, curly hair and Draco could feel Potter greedily breathe in the smell of him. He bucked harder, almost losing his control and throwing back his head in ecstasy. He opened his eyes to look down again at the raven haired head between his legs but instead his gaze was met with dark green, half-lidded eyes. Draco arched his back and with a final, erratic thrust upward, came all over his own pale fingers, stifling the strangled whimper that tried to escape.

“Bloody Potter.”

***

Harry laid the quill next to the parchment on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

/Short and sweet. Hermione’ll hate it but it gets the job done. /

“Hermione, I was just wondering what a Veela mating call is. I heard Lucius Malfoy and Draco talking about it and am trying to figure out what Malfoy’s up to. If you could do a little research for me that would be great. Thanks. Tell everyone I say hi!
-Harry”

/That sounds okay. /

Harry rolled the letter and tied it to the tawny barn owl that sat on his small desk. He charmed the letter so no one could read it besides Hermione, an Order precaution, and charmed the owl with a disillusionment charm before she flew from the window. He omitted the fact that they seemed to be discussing him. If he was honest with himself he could guess what was going on, he wasn’t dim. Only he was worried because he felt less worried then he knew he should be. Malfoy was a git, no matter how Harry looked at it. He was selfish, vain, cruel and vindictive, even if he appeared to be nice now. Only he also seemed to be sincere. Harry couldn’t decide. All of the fights and taunts and duels chased each other around in circles in the back of Harry’s mind but in the forefront was the feeling of wholeness when Draco had touched him. He remembered Draco rutting against him with reckless abandon and the feeling of bliss when the blondes teeth sunk into his neck. He shuddered.

/Merlin Why?!? /

He could see his feelings getting out of hand, he did not want that, he was tired if his feelings getting the better of him and hurting himself or hurting someone else. So what if Draco was funny? Who cares if he has these slim hips that sway when he walks or that his platinum hair falls in perfect, soft, sheets, that frame his face? He’s a ponce, just another Death Eater turned Order member, no more, no less. He hadn’t realized he had stood up and was now pacing.

/It’s just those amazing eyes. /

Harry cringed, the voice in his head, for better or worse, sounded like Hermione. She perched on his shoulder and shook her head,

/Liar Harry! Malfoy intrigues you, doesn’t he? His temper that has only ever been reserved for you and those icy eyes, you could drown in them couldn’t you? They are never dull, never gray when he looks at you are they? No. They never have been, they’re always silver and glittering when he looks at you and they always will be, won’t they? /

He kicked Sirius’ splintered armoire.

“Shut up!”

/Am I loosing it? I’m arguing with myself! What’s wrong with me? /

He was startled by a noise form across the hall.

“Ahh-”

Turning, he quickly decides that it’s not important whether he likes, dislikes, or is in like with Draco, if he’s in trouble its Harry’s job to protect him. He forgets of course that in Grimmauld place it’s hardly likely that Draco has gotten himself into trouble.

Moving fast he reaches his door and throws it open and bounding the few steps across the hall he pauses, silence. He figures Draco might be mad if Harry barges in and nothings wrong so he turns the knob slowly. Draco’s room is not locked and the solid door opens easily. The sight before Harry glues him to the spot he stopped in. There, with his back to Harry, is Draco, lounging on the red velvet chaise next to the window. His head is bent forward and Harry can see his arm pumping up and down furiously. Draco’s body is quivering and Harry can hear the blonds muffled whimpers as he works himself into a frenzy. Suddenly Draco throws his head back and untangles his hand from behind his head, bringing it to grip his t-shirt in a fit. Words that Harry had given up thinking he would ever hear someone utter in the throws of passion pass Draco’s lips and echo across the room in a harsh whisper.

“Oh- oh Harry-”

/Oh Harry? Oh Merlin! /

Stumbling back he quickly closes the door. He hears Draco’s muffled whimpers cut the silence of the corridor.

/Oh Merlin no! I was NOT supposed to see that. Why did I watch?!? Oh Merlin no! /

Draco was wanking! He couldn’t believe it, and thinking of HIM no less. How did this mess even start? First he was entertaining strange feelings about the jerk and now, now he’s walking in on the blond who’s obviously having the same sick thoughts. It’s just wrong. Harry knew he might be bi or even gay, but he had never thought his enemy would think of him as anymore then just that, an enemy and as of late, a meal. Harry’s head spun, images of Draco in the throws of ecstasy filled his mind and the voice in his head was screaming ‘I told you so.’ Backing up to his own door and practically falling over himself getting into the room, he slams it shut.

/What do I do? /

With his back to the door he slid to the ground, his pants growing tighter and his mind growing frantic with worry. Willing away his erection he closed his eyes and swiftly banged his head once against the solid oak. Voldemort was strengthening, the order was in hysterics trying to keep up with the Dark Lord and he, Harry the Savior, was cooped up in this house with a lustful Slytherin wanking in the next room. He couldn’t figure out how things had gone from bad to worse. He hadn’t been this worried since Umbridge was in office at Hogwarts. He chastised himself for even thinking of Malfoy in that way when the wizarding world was in such disarray. If he was honest with himself in the last week he had thought of little more then his own personal problems with Ginny and Malfoy. His love life, if that’s what you could call it, had taken up most of his time!

Suddenly, in the midst of his self-deprecating tirade, he heard the door across the hall open. Quickly he stood and fixed his shirt, wiping sweat from his brow he walked to the bed and casually lay down. Malfoy was going to walk in and Harry was determined to look nonchalant at his arrival. Just as he suspected there was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” Malfoy entered, looking calm, but Harry noticed his hair was slightly out of place and his clothes looked hastily fixed.

/Depraved bastard. /

He tried to tell himself that Malfoy was just some sex-craved, barmy, sicko, even if the blond did look sexy as hell.

“You ready Potter?”

/Am I ever! Wait, no! Damn you’re taking to long to answer, say something stupid or he’ll know! /

“I- er, yeah sure.”

“Are you, you look a little peaky.”

“Wha- yeah. Um, I just wrote Hermione and was uh, kinda tired is all. No problem… You want to start back in the drawing room, there’s this chest full of old papers and stuff I wanted to get through.” Harry tried to pick the most boring, un-sexy task he could think of, paperwork. Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at Harry’s mumbling but other then that ignored it.

“Yeah, alright.” Harry stood from the bed, willing away the images of Draco pleasuring himself.

They walked to the room in relative silence, Harry too busy contemplating whether or not Malfoy was contemplating him, to say anything. No matter what he told himself Malfoy had taken up a lot of his thinking mostly because he couldn’t figure out why he thought of Malfoy so much. It was a vicious circle. When they reached the room Harry was more confident in his self control and walked over to the trunk, opening it with a flourish.

/This will keep my mind of the (super-annoyingly-sexy with his hair all mussed) prat! Argh. /

“Whoa.” Malfoy’s whisper brought reality crashing down as Harry stared into the large cedar chest. It was filled with yellowed books and bits of discolored parchment. He now remembered why he’d put this off. To his surprise though, after Draco’s initial shock, the blond dove into the trunk with an exuberance that rivaled Hermione’s when she was working to remove the house elf head plaques. He leapt into the trunk pulling out dusty old tome after dusty old tome riffling through the pages with intense concentration while Harry stared at single leafs for minutes at a time just trying to decipher the spotted writing. He was looking at a particularly old piece describing the uses of asphodel in a nasty sounding potion called ‘the kiss of death’ (which reminded him of his own lame attempts at brewing ‘the draught of living death’ also using asphodel) when a disgusted gurgle came from the avid reader beside him.

“Ugh.”

“What is it?”

“I’m related to the Weasley’s!” Harry fought back a laugh, Sirius had mentioned that before but he hadn’t remembered to tell the uppity blond.

“Is that so?”

“Ugh, yes. And apparently so are you.” This caught Harry’s attention.

“Really?”

“Yeah, look here.” Draco was pointing in a thick volume that appeared to be comprised solely of long lists of deaths, births and marriages. “You’re related to them slightly closer then I, thank Merlin. It appears your great-great aunt Brumhilda Potter, your great-grandfather’s sister, was married to Bilius Weasley. He was, hmm let’s see, the Weasel’s great-great grandfathers brother or something. I’m only related by marriage. It looks like my second or third cousin, Demetrius Brandybuck, married a Ginerva Weasley in 1886.”

“Hey that’s Ginny’s name.”

“Yes Potter, families do, on occasion, recycle the names.” Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy.

“I know Malfoy! I’m not stupid!” Harry let his temper flare; a cruel Draco was not a sexy Draco. But the blond just stared at Harry.

“Sorry, I know, no need to get your panties in a twist Harry.” Draco smirked and Harry almost lost his nerve.

/How dare he call me Harry and apologize in the same breath! /

“My panties are none of your concern!”

“Hey now Potter, don’t get ahead of yourself, the state of your panties does not concern me, your right. It’s a figure of speech. Relax.” Malfoy looked slightly affronted but Harry saw he had obviously not been trying to start a fight and backed down.

“Sorry, I’m just a little edgy.”

“S’fine…so…you wear panties?” Harry’s eyes widened but Malfoy’s playful grin signaled it was a joke.

“No, you ponce.”

“Are they pink?”

“No!” Harry laughed now and shoved Draco to the side roughly. Draco, who had been perched on the edge of the chest, tumbled over, loosing is balance and grabbed Harry’s sleeve, dragging them both down into a heap on the floor.

“Oof! Potter you klutz!” Draco was struggling for breath under Harry, laughing and kicking frantically at the same time trying desperately to dislodge himself from the brunette. Harry, on the other hand, was only aware of the delectable friction caused by Malfoy’s struggles. In a brief moment of clarity he joined in and attempted hurriedly to untangle himself. When he finally did he was rock hard and he just knew he was blushing. Draco stood and dusted himself off. “You know when someone tries to hold onto you for balance you’re not supposed to fall with them.”

When Draco looked up and met Harry’s eyes, Harry could do nothing but stare. The Slytherin looked as flushed as Harry felt and Harry could see a peaking of fangs behind his lips, even though Malfoy was obviously trying to hide them. Ignoring the screaming in his head and focusing on the slow buzz in his ears and the warm heat pooling in his abdomen Harry threw caution to the wind and reached over to brush a stray platinum hair from the other boys face, tucking it behind his ear. Malfoy’s blush deepened as he glanced down at Harry’s trousers and took a hesitant step back.

“Ha-Harry you don’t understand.”


***

A/N: so what do you think of wanking!Draco? Sorry it's a a cliffy. hope you like! Don't be too mad. Pleeeassse!