Kneeling

A/N: I\'m leaving for two weeks of vacation tonight, so there aren\'t going to be any more updates for some time, but here\'s a nice long chapter to tide you over.


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This was torture. Draco curled up in his bed and hid his head in his hands. It felt as if his whole body was straining against the self-imposed distance from Harry. It had been five days by now, and already it felt like an eternity.

At first, it had been easy to remind himself of the things Harry had done to him, of how he deserved better than that kind of treatment. He could almost imagine that he didn’t love him anymore, didn’t need him. But as the days dragged on it had become impossible to stick to that pretense. He missed Harry, his touch, the occasional moments of tenderness that had sometimes crept into the otherwise callous sex. He missed it so much it hurt. Being without Harry, without even the furtive glances of him he had used to steal in between their meets - it felt like he was missing a part of his body.

He knew he couldn’t do this anymore. His pride was screaming at the realisation of just how dependant he was on Harry. He had never been so weak before, and it felt awful, humiliating, but it was nothing compared to the pain of being apart.

He had been so sure that he could do this, and hated the knowledge that he really couldn’t. This was not who he wanted to be, damn it! But none of that mattered now. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

He was going to allow Harry to find him, as he had obviously tried to during the last days. Up until now, he had made sure that Harry didn’t have any opportunity to find him alone - surrounding himself with his friends, or, if that wasn’t possible, hiding out in his room. (Which, now that he thought about it, really was its own kind of pathetic.)

The second he had made the decision, it felt as if a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in five days, the awful feeling that had been niggling at the back of his mind disappeared, and the low-grade headache that had not stopped for even a minute eased up abruptly.

Despite that, he still felt awful. He knew exactly what he was returning to, the indifference and humiliation, and still he didn’t have the strength to turn away from it. It felt like something inside him, something precious and irreplaceable, was quietly breaking under the weight of his own weakness.


**********


Finding Draco had turned out to be surprisingly difficult. Harry had gotten used to Draco’s uncanny ability to turn up whenever he wanted him to, as if he somehow knew when Harry was in the mood for sex. But now Draco was demonstrating the same skill in avoiding him. When he wasn’t nowhere to be found, he was always surrounded by a group of Slytherins.
That was only to be expected, of course. Harry sometimes could barely stand to be around himself, these days, after what he had done to Draco.

Still, he owed Draco an apology at the very least, and after that - well, then it was up to Draco to decide what he wanted to do.

It took him five days until he finally managed to corner Draco alone in an empty corridor on one of the upper floors. Draco looked at him warily, as if expecting another attack. It made his stomach clench with shame.

“Draco…” he began, than stopped, uncomfortably aware of their surroundings. Someone could walk in on them any moment.

“Look, can we go somewhere private? Please?” he asked, not sure at all if Draco would be willing to go along with it. He’d lost any claim on Draco’s trust he might have had.
But Draco just nodded, looking strangely resigned, and followed him quietly to one of their secret rooms.

The moment the heavy door closed behind them he was already regretting his choice of location, seeing Draco’s eyes flit towards the massive bed that was the only furniture in the room. They had fucked in that bed, more than once, and the unspoken knowledge hung in the air between them like a reminder of his guilt. It had been a bad idea, trying to do this here. He should have chosen someplace more neutral.

“Harry -“ Draco began, but Harry quickly lifted a hand, forestalling any further words.
“Please, just… let me say this first, please? After that, you can… say whatever you want, it’s not like I don’t deserve it, just…” His voice failed him, and he had to gather his resolve yet again. He had to go through with this, if he ever wanted to be able to look himself in the eyes again. He took a deep breath and then blurted out in a rush: “I’m really, really sorry for what
I’ve done to you. That was… all kinds of wrong, and I promise you it’s never, ever going to happen again.

You have every right to be pissed, of course, and…” - another deep breath - “well, if you wanted to punch me, or something, if that would make you feel better… You could do that, or… something else. God. What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do anything you want to make up for it. Anything.”

He raked a hand through his hair nervously. Draco was staring at him, his face inscrutable. He couldn’t even begin to guess what he might be thinking. He knew that he was fidgeting, his body making little fight-or-flight motions, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. It terrified him to have put so much power in the hands of someone he trusted so little. But his feelings didn’t matter now. If he didn’t take this opportunity to make amends, he would be no better than those he had always fought.

Finally Draco broke the oppressive silence that had settled on them the second Harry had closed his mouth.

“Anything I want?” he repeated, questioning.

Harry nodded miserably.

Draco’s expressionless face relaxed into something like a smile, but his eyes seemed strangely sad. It couldn’t have been farther from the malicious glee he had been expecting, and it unsettled him further.

“I want this, then”, he said. He reached out, drawing one finger down Harry’s neck in a slow, deliberate motion, and then started unbuttoning his shirt. Harry froze, forcing himself not to flinch away.

Oh god. It hadn’t even occurred to him that the retribution Draco would demand might be sexual. It made sense, of course - an eye for an eye. But he honestly hadn’t expected Draco to ever want to touch him again after what had happened.

He couldn’t quite decide if this was better or worse than the public humiliation he had been dreading. This way, no one else would ever have to know of his shame. His friends… he had not been sure at all if they would be willing to forgive him.

On the other hand, to be used as he had used Draco… the thought made him nauseous. Still, he made himself stand still as Draco stripped him, barely feeling the touch of the nimble hands over the turmoil in his head.

His body felt tight with misery, but it was easy to ignore: he would put this behind him, pay his penance, and end all this with a clear conscience.

Finally he was standing there naked, feeling indescribably vulnerable, his naked body bared in front of Draco who was still fully dressed.

Was this how he had made Draco feel? So selfconscious and exposed? He was shivering, the eternal draft of the castle cold on his skin. Draco’s warm hand on his shoulder felt like a brand, like it should leave a mark there for everyone to see. All the sensation in his body was gathering under the touch of those long fingers. He couldn’t help flinching.

Draco’s grip tightened, as if was expecting Harry to start struggling or resisting.
He didn’t, though - he obediently let himself be pushed backwards, to the bed, and then further, until he was lying flat on his back on the soft mattress.

Draco climbed up onto the bed, kneeling between Harry’s spread legs, and he turned his head away, half-hiding it in the pillow. He wondered if Draco would fuck him, wondered if he would take the time to prepare him, if he would use lube. Wondered how much it would hurt if he didn’t.

Draco shifted, and he braced himself for the impact of blows, of the kind of cruel touches he himself had used. That was not what happened, though.

Draco reached out one hand, drawing his palm slowly down the middle of Harry’s chest, the long sleeve of his silken robe trailing behind his fingers like an additional, shivery caress. Draco was following the motion of his hand with his eyes, his gaze full of appreciation on Harry’s naked body. He forced himself to lie still, accepting, as Draco leisurely explored his body with lips and fingers. Internally he was knotted tight with tension, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the curious touches to turn demanding, the gentleness to turn to cruelty.

Still, even with the anticipation of what was to come, this felt incredible - Draco nuzzling the soft, vulnerable skin on the crook of his elbow, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s chest, trailing light kisses down his stomach and arms, the slight scratch of stubble a sharp contrast to the soft tickle of pale hair and green silk against his skin. His cock was lying hard against his belly, already leaking a glistening trail of precome, and twitching towards Draco’s hand when he reached out to swirl a finger through the drops of fluid.

Draco didn’t touch him, though, just continued with the slow caresses. God, what was he waiting for, playing with him like this? He couldn’t help it, he was strung so tight now, every time Draco made an unexpected move he could feel his body flinching, trying to jerk away against his will.

Finally Draco lifted his head to look up at him with an exasperated expression. “Will you just relax already? I’m not going to hurt you. Really, you have no reason to play the blushing virgin, here, it’s not like we haven’t done this before!”

“I’m sorry”, Harry said miserably, aware that he was kind of failing at the whole penance thing. “Just… could you please just get to it? Do whatever it is that you want, now?”

Draco sighed almost inaudibly and for a moment Harry could have sworn to see that sad look on his face again. But then he just nodded, face becoming expressionless abruptly.

“Right. Get to it”, he muttered. Harry tensed, waiting for… something, eyes squeezing shut of their own accord, and felt his whole body jerk in surprise when Draco’s mouth closed around his cock.

He gasped, hips already trying to thrust up into the wet warmth, but Draco had him pinned with an arm across his hips. God, of all the things he could have done - his mind not-so-helpfully supplied him with images of those things, of himself on his knees, on his stomach with his legs spread - this was what he wanted?

Relief flooded through him at the thought. This he could deal with, this was… almost exactly what they had always done.

The thought turned sour in his mind. Damn. This was not penance, this was doing nothing to even the score between them. He was allowing himself to use Draco again, when he had sworn that it was going to stop - had to stop, because it made him something he damn well didn’t want to be.

Without giving himself time to think about it he reached down, slipped one hand in Draco’s hair and gently pushed him away. His cock missed Draco’s mouth immediately, but listening to that had already gotten him into enough trouble, thank you very much.
Draco looked up at him. “Hey, what…”

“Let me do something for you, too?” he said quickly, cutting off the expected protests. He reached for the clasp on Draco’s robe, fingering the intricate silver, then hesitated.

“May I?”

Draco shrugged, looking confused.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“This was supposed to be about what you want”, he said quietly, but Draco didn’t answer.
He unbuttoned the green robe, then slid it off. Draco was wearing a white shirt and black slacks underneath, but no underwear, as he discovered when he took those off, too.

As always the sight of Draco’s naked body made his breath catch. God, but he was beautiful, smooth pale skin over lean muscle. For the first time he allowed himself to reach out and touch like he wanted to, sliding his hands over the hairless stomach, feeling Draco shiver under his touch. He leaned down and pressed hesitant lips to one flat pectoral.

Draco gave one long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure, so he did it again, nibbling and caressing experimentally, all too aware that he didn’t really know what he was doing. Mostly he was just duplicating things Draco had done to him, which should mean that he probably liked them, right? He did seem to like it, judging by the soft gasps and moans.

Suddenly Draco lifted his head and grabbed for one of his hands, mumbling “Please… would you…” and dragged it to one of his nipples, closing Harry’s fingers around the nub. Harry pinched it softly, experimentally, and flinched back quickly when Draco hissed loudly through his teeth. “Sorry, sorry, I…”

But Draco shook his head, caught his hand and put it back. “No, don’t stop, that’s good…”, so he did it again. He couldn’t quite believe that this was supposed to feel good - he himself didn’t much like having his nipples touched, and also, didn’t that hurt? But Draco was so clearly getting off on it that he didn’t want to argue.

He put his mouth on the other nipple, gently lapping at it, and then sucked lightly. Draco moaned and arched up into his touch.

“Oh, yes, please…” His breathless voice was surprisingly arousing. Harry felt his own cock jerk slightly. This wasn’t about his own pleasure, he reminded himself strenly, but he couldn’t help but rub against the mattress a bit.

Draco was moving his hips now, too, clenching and unclenching his muscles, as if he was trying to thrust against the air. Harry slid his free hand down and closed it around Draco’s cock, still playing with his nipple with the other.

Draco gasped roughly and pushed into his touch, but after a few strokes it became clear that this wasn’t working too well. He kept losing the rhythm, distracted by what he was doing with his mouth and his other hand, and while Draco wasn’t complaining, he couldn’t seem to contain the frustrated gasps that escaped him every time that happened.

Finally he let go, dissatisfied with himself. An incompetent handjob was really no way to pay Draco back for all the things he had done for him. There was one other thing he knew at least theoretically how to do - well, two actually, but he sure as hell wasn’t doing that voluntarily - but he wasn’t really sure he wanted to.

He peered down at Draco’s cock hesitantly. What if he fucked that up, too? Or if the taste was really awful? It wasn’t like he could just get a taste and then stop if he didn’t like it. That would go beyond teasing and right into downright mean. No, if he did this, he would have to go through with it.

Draco made a soft sound, and Harry suddenly remembered that he had to be getting impatient by now, but he didn’t say anything, just waited for Harry to make up his mind.
It was that which decided it for him. Draco had endured so amazingly much from him. This was the least he could do in return.

He started kissing his way down Draco’s chest, then suddenly felt silly and just dove down and took the head in his mouth before he could lose his nerve.
It really wasn’t so bad - the taste was kind of unpleasant, but it was more the salty, slightly bitter tang of seawater than anything really nasty. And Draco made a surprised, gasping sound that went straight to his cock, which helped.

He tried sucking lightly, and moving his head up and down, which got him a bunch of enthusiastic noises. Draco’s hand threaded through his hair, and for a moment that made him nervous, because this position felt vulnerable enough as it was, and he really didn’t want to be held down. But Draco didn’t try to direct his movements in any way, just caressed him gently. It felt surprisingly good, after he stopped worrying about it.

Still, it was awkward - he couldn’t go down far before it felt like he was choking, and he didn’t know what to do with his teeth. He kept inadvertently scraping them against Draco.
Finally Draco’s hand pushed him back a bit.

“Harry?” He sounded strangely hesitant. “Um, could you… it’s easier when you pull your lips over your teeth.”

Harry blushed. All right, so that really could have occured to him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Draco shook his head quickly. “No, you’re doing great.”

Harry looked at him sceptically.
“
No, really, it feels wonderful… don’t stop, please?” He sounded sincere, and kind of anxious, like he really was afraid that Harry was going to stop. He was at the point Harry knew all too well, where it really sucked to stop - his cock swollen and almost purple with blood, so hard it probably hurt, and it was rather inconsiderate to keep him hanging like this. So he didn’t argue, just lowered his head again, teeth carefully covered this time.

It really was easier this way, and he could finally get something like a decent rhythm going.
Draco was thrusting up slightly, now, like he couldn’t help himself, and he was panting harshly, with occasional breathless gasps in between. Suddenly his hand tightened, pulling at his hair.

“Harry - coming”, he warned, gasping.

Harry considered pulling back, but then he remembered how good it felt to come with a hot mouth surrounding you, and kept sucking. Draco made some incredibly sexy whimpering noises, whispering his name and something else he didn’t understand, and then his mouth filled with warm fluid and he was to busy sputtering and spitting it out to pay any more attention. God, that tasted disgusting, far worse than the drops of precome had.

After a moment he became aware that Draco was watching him, a rueful smile twisting the corners of his mouth.
“
Kind of an aquired taste, isn’t it? Sorry.”

“I am not ever aquiring that particular taste”, he said with conviction, because that had been gross. He couldn’t imagine getting used to it.

Draco flinched, averting his eyes. “Sorry”, he said quietly. “I didn’t mean... you don’t have to do that again, if you don’t want to, of course.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Nah, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mind… just not going to try to swallow again, that’s all.” He surprised himself with that - what on earth had happened to his plan to stop, after this? But he didn’t want to do that anymore. Feeling Draco’s mouth on him again had reminded him of just how good it was. Now that it was more… mutual, there really wasn’t any harm in it, was there?

He was dimly aware that that was the same argument he had been using from the start, and it hadn’t been true the first time, but his cock was clamoring for his attention by now, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He reached down, closing one hand around himself, but after a moment Draco took over for him. He was suddenly painfully aware of how long he had been waiting, and it didn’t take more than a few strokes to bring him off.

He let himself flop down on the bed, basking in the afterglow. He had missed this, the boneless feeling of relaxation that he never quite managed to achieve so well when it was only his own hand bringing him off. His mouth still tasted awful, though. He rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste, but it didn’t help at all.

Draco watched him for a moment, then stretched a hand out for his wand. “Here, let me -“ he said, tapping it lightly against Harry’s cheek and saying a spell he didn’t know. The taste disappared, replaced by something minty and fresh. He sighed in relief.

“Thanks. What was that?”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “What, you don’t know the teeth-cleaning spell? How on earth do you keep your teeth clean?”

“Um… brushing them?” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. “That’s so very muggle of you, Potter.”

For a moment Harry thought about getting pissed off, but he was really tired, his body still sated and warm, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Also, Draco hadn’t really said it in a nasty way, as he usually did when talking about the muggles. So he just whapped him with the pillow, instead, and then laid back down. “I think I’m going to take a nap”, he said.

“Yeah, me too.”

He hadn’t expected Draco to lie down beside him, but he didn’t find it in himself to mind right now, and when Draco tentatively put one arm around him after a few minutes he was already almost asleep and too drowsy and comfortable to care.