Broken Toy

Warnings: smut
Author's Notes:

Hi everybody!
I know it’s been quite a while (if not to say a very long time) since I posted anything. Well, RL struck me doubly, but I’m still determined (and grimly, this is) to fight it back.

So instead of drawing a weeping Harry (I had it sketched all ready) I decided to post chap 13 of BT. Enjoy it. If you’re not dancing around a maypole, this is.

Chapter Thirteen

“I’m so sorry…”

Draco shook his head several times, hoping to get out of the dream-like state he was in. His hand remained holding Harry’s half-erect member. Amazing, so much come for such a slim person. His hand kept on gently kneading the relaxing flesh. Gliding his thumb repeatedly over the still hot glans, rich with moisture, he was pleased that Harry’s thighs involuntarily reacted with tiny quivers.

“So….”

Harry’s eyes were huge, and his forehead was damp with sweat. Instinctively, Draco wiped some of the black strands of hair out of Harry’s flushed face. His gentle gesture didn’t have the result he intended, though. On the contrary, Harry tossed his head to the other side and buried it deep into the pillows as if to escape the touch.

“…sorry…”

The exposed throat was tempting. Just in time Draco restrained himself from nuzzling his nose into the promising crook between shoulder and neck.

The muffled sounds coming from the depths of the pillow made him think twice. He squeezed Harry’s now limp penis one last time. Resting his hand on Harry’s chest in what he hoped to be a more comforting gesture, he tried to calm Harry.

“Sorry? You are sorry? Sorry, but I am sorry. I think they deserved it! They will be bruised, perhaps have some broken bones, but you didn’t seriously harm the bastards. Nothing that couldn’t be mended with a quick spell administered by a skilful Healer’s hand. Fuck, Harry, there’s no reason to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Considering the circumstances, it was just… Harry?”

Whatever he had said had caught Harry’s attention. The black shock of hair surfaced out of the depth of the pillows, and the frown on Harry’s flushed features was unmistakable. Draco’s fingers, aimlessly drawing all kinds of patterns on Harry’s chest, came abruptly to a halt.

“What the FUCK are you talking about?” Harry’s voice was low, angry and hoarse. “I don’t give a SHIT about Fred and … the fucking rest of them. Hermione will take care of it. And if anybody…” Draco could feel Harry’s body tense up, “… if anybody feels the urge to complain, well, he better think twice. Oh yes…”

The featherlike touch of Harry’s hand on his cheek was a far too unfamiliar sensation. However, as sudden as the contact was, it was soon over again.

“It’s just…”

Draco had difficulty making out the muted words, as Harry’s face was hidden in the folds of the pillow once again.

“It’s just… Believe me… Usually…” Couldn’t Harry ever talk in complete sentences? Draco’s fingers resumed drawing little circles upon Harry’s chest, although his gestures had lost some of its tenderness. He wanted Harry to get to the point.

“Usually I can hold back longer.” A coughing fit followed Harry’s muffled words, due to a futile attempt to clear his throat.

A small smirk appeared on Draco’s face. His hand relaxed, and he continued to grope for the few curly black hairs with outstretched fingers. Amazing. How could a person with such a pronounced covering of hair on head and belly be so bare on his chest?

“I wanted to…”

Draco wasn’t prepared at all for Harry’s sudden fierce embrace. He swallowed down his triumphant cry of satisfaction just in time. He instinctively reacted to Harry’s arms all around him and just held him. Draco didn’t draw back when Harry buried his nose deep into Draco’s armpit, tickling his skin with his warm breath. On the contrary; he only held him closer.

Draco was almost purring, but his victorious smirk soon vanished from his face.

It didn’t mean anything.

He didn’t have his full attention. Not after tonight’s turmoil. The way Harry reacted right now wasn’t Harry-ish at all. Probably he was still upset, kind of out of his mind, and additionally utterly exhausted by his strange “performance”. It was just a mere hunch, but Draco was sure Harry wouldn’t remember anything tomorrow of what he said or did right now.

Draco started to stroke Harry’s head lightly. The wound-up breathing subsided after a while, and Draco could feel Harry’s tense muscles gradually relax. “I jusht wanded do share...,” he mumbled.

Draco caressed the thick strands of hair until he was sure Harry was fast asleep. He still held him tight in his arms after he drifted off into sleep himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Humming a silly little tune he had picked up somewhere, Draco entered the kitchen with a broad smile upon his face. Time for breakfast!

He wasn’t used to preparing breakfast. In fact, he wasn’t used to preparing any meal. But he would try. He was a grown up man, wasn’t he? It couldn’t be that difficult to toast a few slices of white bread, butter them and add something he was sure he would find in the fridge.

Breakfast in bed. What would be necessary? Full of energy, Draco rummaged through the cupboards, selecting everything that caught his fancy. A tray, two plates, two cups, two glasses, a teapot, two knives, two forks. Two spoons as well? Of course two spoons. This was fun!

He decided to scramble some eggs. With some bacon, perhaps? His smile intensified.

When Draco awakened this morning, he was a little bit disorientated at first. Something was different.

Heating up a pan the way Harry did every morning, Draco resumed humming his little tune. Yes. Something was different this morning.

He was holding the difference in his arms.

Not being sure about the number of eggs they would need, Draco broke up eight.

Both were lying on their sides, and Draco was slinging one arm around Harry’s middle. His nose was buried deep into the shock of black hair.

He was hungry! Quickly Draco added two more eggs. Stirring the pulp slowly, he thought about the spices. He added some salt and pepper, but was sure he had forgotten something else.

Harry did smell so good. Draco didn’t dare to move, worried Harry would wake up. Draco wanted to relish the scent a little while longer.

Damn. They would want some tea! Setting up a pot to heat water, just like Harry did, Draco hastened back to stir the eggs. Hm. Somehow the yellow pulp in the pan didn’t look at all like the omelette Harry usually presented to him. Hastily Draco stirred some more, adding more salt and pepper.

Cautiously Draco moved his chest closer towards Harry’s peaceful sleeping body. Encouraged by Harry’s even breathing, he pressed his thighs slowly against the enticing warm backside. The dark head jerked once, but just once. After holding his breath anxiously for a while, Draco’s hand sneaked up Harry’s chest to explore his nipples.

The boiling water hissed. Draco rushed off to search for tea bags.

He smirked broadly when the nipple he was squeezing turned hard. He had hoped for a healthy reaction! When Harry shifted his position slightly, Draco stopped his teasing at once.

Tossing the tea bags into the pot and adding the water, Draco remembered the eggs. Stirring the now stiff mass with one hand and feeding the toaster with bread with the other, he decided they would like some orange juice as well.

Of course Draco’s hand had to move downwards after a while. He simply had to explore Harry’s bum. Holding his breath once more, he pulled down Harry’s boxers as far as he was able to. Was it due to the shortage of oxygen or due to the sensation of touching round, luscious cheeks that made him sigh deeply? His thighs jerked forward, just enough to press his hard member against the unresisting flesh.

The eggs should be done by now. Draco filled the plates with the stiff yellow something and hurried off to get the orange juice.

He couldn’t restrain his need, he had to grab for Harry’s cheek and lift it a little. Draco’s prick fitted in nicely between the buttocks.

Draco was rather pleased with himself as he buttered the toast.

Harry murmured something. Ignoring the mumbling, his hand clenched Harry’s thigh ardently as he started to rub his cock slowly up and down inside the warm gap. Yes…

Draco swallowed hard. He had buttered the toast, but forgotten all about the eggs. They must be cold by now. Quickly Draco tossed some butter into the pan and heated it up again.

He knew he wouldn’t last long. He buried his fingers deeper into Harry’s thigh, and was mildly astounded when he felt something wet trickle down his face. He hadn’t noticed he was sweating. His muscles tensed up. Oh, yes, any time now, any time, it felt so good…

The fat in the pan hissed. In a hurry, Draco added the yellow mass of eggs. He wasn’t prepared for the even louder hiss that followed. Something hot hurt his arms and face.

“Hmmm…” Harry turned around. With a contented smile, he laid down his head upon Draco’s shoulder, and snuggled contentedly into Draco’s arms. Draco couldn’t help but return the embrace.

The pan started to emit an unpleasant odour even an unexperienced cook like Draco could identify as peculiar. At once he hastened to refill the plates with the darkish yellow mass of eggs.

He needed some time to get his heavy breathing under control. His lower abdomen throbbed uncomfortably, heightening his frustration. He felt betrayed. He had been so close…

Realization hit him like a blow.

He hadn’t felt something as intense as this in years.

Of course he had felt like shit at Laydown Alley. He had been miserable, but he had learned to cope. He had been disgusted with Pickles, the customers, the surroundings, but mostly with himself. He had learned to live through every day easier than he had thought possible. Sometimes, when a customer was considerate, even gentle, he almost had been able to enjoy it. But most of the times he had felt numb. Just bare of any emotions, and bare of any deeper thoughts. Thankfully he soon had been able to let his mind escape to his far-off, secret hiding-place.

And obviously thanks to this fucking BJ he had obediently swallowed every day.

Beautification potion, for crying out loud!

Since the day Harry had pushed the phial out of his hand, his regrowing body hair was not the only change that had taken place.

Since that day Draco had actually been able to feel again.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest. For a long time he stayed motionless, observing the peaceful intakes of the man he held in his arms. His head was whirling, contemplating, scheming.

He left the bed at last, ignoring his disappointed prick, and ignoring sleeping Harry’s protesting noises.

He was humming a little tune, and he smiled.

He was Draco. Draco Malfoy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Sunday paper was lying on the kitchen table where the delivery owl had left it, still rolled up. It would go along nicely with the breakfast. Cutting the small ribbon with a pair of scissors he found in one of the cupboard drawers, he grinned at the image of the two of them eating breakfast and reading the paper in bed. Very homely, exactly what he had planned for the morning.

Smoothing the crinkled front-page, Draco froze.


“RAID!
Supposed Death Eaters arrested in the middle of London. By Dennis Creevey.

Yesterday afternoon, about a dozen suspects were taken into custody at Crompton Alley by our trusted Hit Wizards of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. The lane, often referred to as Laydown Alley, is situated in the center of homosexual wizard London, where customers pay for gay services with cold cash.

“The contracts between the renderers of service and the service providers appeared not to be legal, to say the least,” Nuntius Nootes, a Ministry spokesman, confided to your Daily Prophet reporter. “Rumours of the misuse of Dark Magic set investigations on the part of the Ministry directly under way.”

Only a few days ago, the Magical Law Enforcement Squad was able to capture evidence strong enough to initiate a raid. “We’ve been successful!” Nootes confirmed in an interview shortly after the arrest of about a dozen service providers. “We were able to take enough contracts into possession, evidently sealed by means of Dark Magic, to send all the pimps straight to Azkaban.”

Your Daily Prophet reporter was granted a quick survey of one of the confiscated documents. The parties the contracts are dealing with are “Owner” and “Property”. By the wording the “Property” binds his body and soul to the “Owner”. It seems that the “Property” is under complete control; he cannot move, act, breathe, eat, drink or sleep without the permission of the “Owner”. A first analysis showed that breaking the contract, or even the mere attempt to do so, results in excruciating pain on the part of the “Property” and will lead to eventual death of the latter.

“We are satisfied to announce complete success. We freed all the miserable young men, confiscated the contracts and took the guilty party into custody,” Nootes concluded. “I am confident that our most competent Aurors will find a way to tear up every single piece of paper in no time.”

For further information: See page 3 for the complete interview with Nootes; page 4 for parts of a model contract; page5 for short interviews with some of the mistreated young men, where more scandalous details will be revealed. “


Hastily Draco’s eyes scanned the picture underneath the headline. He immediately made out the dark figure in the background. Harry had hooded his face again, but his figure was unmistakable.

“It’s all a fucking lie!”

The paper tumbled out of Draco’s hand.

He turned around at once.

Harry stood beneath the frame of the kitchen door, eyeing him closely. His dressing gown was hanging loosely around his shoulders, revealing his bare chest and a part of his lovely trail, disappearing under the rim of his boxers. He was barefoot, which was why Draco hadn’t been able to hear him approaching.

“We didn’t get him. I’m sorry.” One corner of Harry’s mouth twitched. Draco knew the signs of agitation; Harry was angry and/or miserable. “Fucking Pickles was the only one who managed to escape. He and your… former colleagues. Seems as if he was tipped off at the last minute.”

Draco didn’t give a shit about Pickles and his whereabouts, nor was he interested in the fate of the wretched creatures he had to share some part of his life with.

“I swear I’m going to find out who tipped him off. And I’m going to find him. He will get what he deserves, just like the others. Just trust me, Draco. Okay?”

Draco swallowed. He forced himself to look straight into Harry’s pleading eyes and NOT look down towards the dark trail of hair.

“Draco! Okay?”

Harry moved closer. Draco stepped back. “Oh, yes. You’ll find him. All right. Cool. But… it doesn’t really matter anyhow, does it? I mean… Pickles isn’t the owner anymore. You are…” Why did he say that? Why the fuck did he say that? He could have kicked himself hard by the shocked look on Harry’s face.

“I prepared breakfast!” Draco blurted out.

“Breakfast?”

The distraction succeeded. At least Draco hoped so. Harry stopped in his approach, but the dumbfounded expression never left his face.

“How on earth can you think of breakfast now? Didn’t you hear what I’ve said?”

Not knowing what to do, how to behave, Draco grinned half-heartedly. “Of course I heard you. I’m not deaf, you know?” He couldn’t help a superior smirk.

“Yeah, I see. Not deaf, but mental… Draco, listen, this is serious. I know what Dennis wrote in his article. Or at least I can imagine. It’s crap. It’s just SHIT.” All at once Harry was standing right in front of him. The sudden, vehement grab on his shirt hurt Draco’s chest a little.

“Why shit? I mean… They freed everybody and all is well. So what?” Draco was at a total loss.

“So WHAT???” Harry pushed him with such force that Draco stumbled a few steps backwards. “No one knows how to break these bloody contracts; no one has the SLIGHTEST CLUE! The Ministry celebrates a success. HAH! - SUCCESS???”

Harry was fuming. Draco cautiously watched him as he marched around the kitchen. Better not say something wrong; he didn’t want Harry to freak out again. Better not say anything at all…

“Nobody was able to find out anything definite about this damn BJ-potion until now. It’s not mentioned in that ridiculous article; right? And it’s definitely not mentioned that anybody has been sent to Azkaban or wherever BECAUSE THEY AREN’T FUCKING ABLE TO! All of them are still there, at Laydown Alley. ALL OF THEM! They can’t separate them. Pimps and whores, all cramped together, guarded by the Squad; and all because of the bloody contracts THEY ARE NOT ABLE TO BREAK!”

So what? Draco was getting impatient. What about them? He didn’t give a shit about them. Nobody had helped him when he was there, so why should he start caring about their welfare now?

“If you know all this, why don’t you run to the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and shout at him and THAT’S THAT? He’s in charge, not you. YOU don’t have to save the whole world ALL OF THE TIME!”

“Are you DAFT? Don’t you know WHO I AM?”

“YES I DO KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YOU ARE FUCKING SELF-RIGHTOUS PERFECT POTTER!!!”

“I AM THE HEAD OF THE MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT SQUAD, YOU STUPID GIT!”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad? Harry? What?

Say something, now, a well known voice hissed inside his head. But Draco’s mouth just gaped open.

Now! the voice insisted.

Not having the slightest idea of what to say, Draco forced himself to approach the fuming Harry, showing fierce determination he didn’t feel at all.

“Well, then, why don’t you…”

His sentence ended before it had really started. Again Draco felt Harry’s hard grip on the scruff of his neck. He backed away instinctively, and his braid hurtled in front of his chest by the hasty motion.

“Why don’t I?” Harry sneered when he mimicked Draco. “WHY DON’T I? Because I CAN’T!” Harry’s hand tightened its grip, making it hard to breathe. “Don’t you know we’ve been working on that blasted contract FOR DAYS AND NIGHTS? And that we are trying to get a clue about this bloody potion ever since I laid my hands upon it? NO, I don’t think that you think about ANYTHING!” Harry had started to shake his fist, which made breathing even harder. “YOU…” the address sounded like a growl, “YOU, with your ridiculous braid dangling down like a…”

“LIKE WHAT?” Fury got the best of him. Draco shook himself free. To hell with caution. But he did step a secure pace back.

“No, you don’t really want to know what you look like.” Harry’s eyes were reduced to hateful slits.

“TELL ME! Come on, PERFECT POTTER. Scared about speaking some truth?”

“You wanna TRY ME? You just look like your ARROGANT FATHER! Or worse, like a GIRL. Just look at your long, silky, silvery hair. Like a cheap whore. I COULD PUKE EVERYTIME I HAVE TO LOOK AT YOUR LONG HAIR!”

“SO YOU WANNA PUKE? LIAR! HAH! But if my long hair insults your perfect eyes, WE CAN CHANGE THAT!”

Draco dashed over towards the kitchen table and grabbed for the scissors. It just took three seconds to adjust them to an inch under his chin and to cut off his braid.

It was such satisfaction to toss the bunch of hair directly in front of Harry’s bare feet.

“Are you satisfied NOW???”

Harry stood, stunned. His body didn’t move; only his eyes shifted between the braid and Draco, who stood with his arms outstretched, scissors still in one hand.

“SO WHAT???” Draco’s body shuddered with rage, and he couldn’t stop shouting. “YOU THINK I RESEMBLE MY FATHER? THE FUCK I DO!!!” Draco tossed the scissors down, too, only missing Harry’s right toe by an inch. Harry didn’t flinch once. He was fixing Draco’s face with one of his irritating intense gazes.

“You think I look like a girl? I KNOW YOU DON’T!” It felt so good to shout.

As soon as he had pulled his T-shirt over his head, flung it to the ground and let his boxers follow quickly, he knew he had made the same mistake all over again. He should have known Harry would back away. His emerald eyes were sparkling with emotion.

But he didn’t shout back.

GOOD!

Draco remembered how to increase his height. Magic wasn’t necessary. It was just the simple matter of standing erect, broadening his shoulders, holding his head up high and let his chin obtrude determinedly. Slowly he advanced upon the other.

Draco was quite satisfied when Harry took further steps backwards until he bumped into the kitchen table.

“So…?” Draco repeated mildly, smirking just once when he noticed Harry’s hands groping for the edge of the table.

Harry’s face was turned up and whilst his eyes were searching Draco’s, the uncertainness of his expression changed. Draco did his best not to reveal any of his thoughts when he recognized the pleading look upon the other’s face.

“What am I?” Draco bore his eyes into Harry’s.

No answer came.

He would leave it at that. For the time being, at least.

He raised both of his hands and caressed Harry’s bare throat with his fingertips.

Harry didn’t flinch back as expected. In fact, he didn’t move at all. He just kept on staring with that irritating intense gaze of his right into Draco’s eyes, torn open full of badly hidden fury.

Slowly Draco’s thumbs moved up and stroked the line of Harry’s jaw, never leaving his eyes. Enclosing Harry’s face with both of his hands, Draco bent Harry’s head gently backwards. When he heard the small sigh he had waited for he sank his lips down upon Harry’s Adam’s apple. He nibbled a bit, but mainly moved his lips without any haste up and down the exposed throat. Patiently he waited for another sigh.

When it came out at last, his hands left Harry’s face to move unhurriedly along his collarbone down to his shoulders, letting his dressing gown slip down to the ground.

Draco had expected Harry’s shudder. “Relax,” he whispered into his ear, “just let it happen.”

Another shudder followed after Draco kissed his earlobe and let the tip of his tongue explore the inside of Harry’s ear. Draco could feel goosebumps approach on the upper arms he was holding tight. Good!

Time to move his hands towards the heaving chest, searching for the nipples he had explored only a short time ago. He relished the feeling of the hardening muscles and leisurely, after kissing Harry’s chin just once, gently sank his teeth into one of the nipples.

Another shudder followed, and Draco knew he had won.

Placing his hands on Harry’s hipbones, he got down slowly until he found a comfortable position on his knees.

His face was directly in front of the promising bulge that was apparent beneath the white boxers.

It was like unwrapping a birthday present. Draco pulled the boxers down towards Harry’s ankles slowly. As expected, Harry’s stiff penis sprang up and danced up and down in front of his eyes. Grabbing for the hipbones again, Draco buried his nose deep into the rich black pubic hair, relishing the unmistakable scent of prick and sweat and Harry.

The moan that followed only made Draco bury his nose deeper into the wiry hair, nuzzling, cuddling it with his nose. It just felt so good! Draco took another deep breath in, feeling his own cock harden. His tongue slipped out; scent wasn’t enough, he had to taste him. Slowly he licked the hairy balls until they were wet, enjoying the increasing thrusting movements of the hips he still held fast.

He liked to tease, but Draco knew exactly when to stop. And when to tease more. He grinned.

He raised his head a little to meet Harry’s eyes.

YES. They were dark with need.

Good.

Still eyeing Harry, sure he was watching every move Draco made, he stuck his tongue out slowly and leisurely touched the glistening glans with the tip of it.

Harry’s reaction was more than he could have hoped for. Harry thrust his prick right into his face.

Slowly Draco enclosed the hard cock with one of his hands, fingers outstretched at first, then covering the hard flesh completely. Pushing the foreskin back, he licked the glans until he was sure Harry was ready to shout.

At last. Draco had almost worried it would never happen.

Hands were groping for his head, and fingers entangled in his hair. Eyes still locked with the dark green ones, Draco’s tongue searched for the little opening, licking the glans like a lollipop. He worked his tongue as cautiously as he could. The tip of his tongue found the tiny gap, and forcing it in as far as he could, he tried not to react to the noises he had never heard Harry utter before.

Draco welcomed Harry’s fingernails burying themselves deep into his shoulder blades, pushing him forward.

Draco sucked in the thrusting head and as much of the shaft he could take in, moving back and forth, his tongue still gliding all around the thick member. And all of the time, his eyes never left the dark green ones. Moaning as loud as Harry, he was sucking, licking, slurping, moving the prick in and out of his mouth, waiting, wanting for Harry to come.

“DRACOOOOOO!”

When he heard Harry screaming his name, Draco came right onto the floor, clinging to Harry’s prick with both of his hands and his mouth, never letting go of him. And he sucked in everything Harry had to spend.