Hard Time

Chapter Eighteen: Who's on Top


The silence between Draco and Harry during the preparation for dinner and through dinner itself was comfortable, not forced or angry. Draco, for his part, felt a good deal better than he had all day; it seemed the hours had gone by with more and more worries to think about, more fears that he'd only traded one prison for another. The worst fear had been that Harry had found what they'd done abhorrent, that he'd been disgusted by Draco and had been avoiding him all day. Why it should matter what Harry thought, he wasn't sure. But it did. More and more he was realising he needed Harry. It was a thought that needed some getting used to.

After dinner, however, came the inevitable parting for bed. Harry said goodnight with a little smile that made Draco's stomach do an odd little flip and headed for his room, leaving Draco and an empty bed. Draco dressed for bed and lied down, but he knew sleep was very far away, and the nightmares were much too close. He felt safe with Harry. It was a shameful thought, but true. Regardless of their past, Harry had become his protector. Protector from death, protector from prisons and hospitals, and now it seemed even protector of his dreams. More than anything, he just wanted to fall asleep wrapped tight in an embrace.

Draco was so tired of being afraid.

He tossed and turned for a bit, trying to relax and close his eyes, but every time he did, there was the face of Pucey, or Goyle, or Warrington. Or Voldemort. It was as if he could still feel that evil spirit in the house, watching him. Waiting.

"Well this is foolish," he finally told the shadows of his room. Unable to sleep in his own bed alone. What a wretch he'd become.

Then again, he wondered if Harry was faring any better.

Finally, with a snarl, Draco got out of bed. There was only one place he wanted to be right now, and if Harry minded, well it was his own sodding fault. He'd brought Draco here. He took his pillow (because he liked it best), and crept over to Harry's room, not bothering to knock as he entered the room, throwing the pillow down on the bed next to Harry's head and climbing under the covers. He felt Harry stiffen with surprise. "I can't sleep," Draco told him testily. "So move over."

Harry looked blankly at him for a moment, and then he moved over, getting himself comfortable again, turning the other way. Draco frowned at Harry's back. That wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. He scooted closer. "Were you sleeping?"

"I was trying to," Harry said, and he didn't sound cross, thankfully. He sounded confused. Well it served him right, Draco thought; he'd been doing his share of confusing Draco lately.

Draco wasn't sure what to follow that up with, so he lay there quietly for a few moments. The sheets smelled of Harry, and he found he rather liked the smell. He wished Harry would turn and face him. "I have another question," he told Harry. Harry turned and glanced at him, squinting, because he wasn't wearing his glasses. His skin looked silver in the moonlight. He looked quite good without glasses, Draco decided. "Can you see me at all?"

Harry blinked. "You're very blurry. I can see your hair, but the face . . . not really." He reached over to the nightstand for his glasses and put them on. "Why?"

"I just wondered. That wasn't my question," Draco said with a shrug. He wanted Harry to be able to see him, stretched out beside him. Vanity, perhaps. "Aren't there ways to correct that problem? It seems to me it would be a dangerous weakness to have."

This time it was Harry's turn to shrug. "The Dursley's never would have spent the money. Are there magical ways to correct vision?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Hadn't he just asked that question? "I wouldn't know. You should look into it, though. You'd look less . . ." Oh, how to put it delicately? "Well it would improve your looks." It would let people see those remarkable green eyes.

A tiny frown line formed between Harry's brows. He looked perplexed, Draco decided. "Uh, I guess I should. Thanks." He turned to roll over again. Draco put a hand on his arm.

"That still wasn't the question I had. You told me why you kissed me, earlier. Why did you stop?" Another question could be why Harry kept trying to turn away, but Draco thought it best to start with the kiss.

Harry looked down, and Draco was almost certain he was blushing, though it was hard to tell in the low light. "B-because I thought you would freak out again."

And it was interesting that the kiss hadn't brought up anything negative for Draco at all. "What about last night? What did you think of that?" Draco leaned in closer. He must be getting better, past the horrors of the prison. He wanted Harry to fuck him. Not that he thought he was ready for that, but . . . the wanting was good. Just to be able to want it again was progress.

"What did you think I thought of that? I didn't exactly stop you, did I?" Harry was starting to sound frustrated, which was precisely what Draco was feeling. Didn't the git ever get a clue?

There was nothing for it but to do it, he reckoned. So Draco put a hand against the back of Harry's neck and leaned in to kiss him. They'd find out if it 'freaked him out' or not. Draco had a feeling that it wouldn't.

Harry made a surprised sound, shifting in the bed to slide an arm around Draco, pulling him in closer. His mouth was open and welcoming, and Draco delved in, wanting a taste of what he'd sampled only too briefly before. He sucked on Harry's tongue, feeling himself grow harder. That part was good. But Harry's hands on him, trying to explore . . . that part wasn't good; it brought up too many things from the cell, other's hands on him, pushing him, hurting. He pulled back a little. "Hands to your sides, Potter. I can't--" He shook his head. He definitely wanted Harry. But he still needed complete control. "It's better when I'm in charge. It doesn't feel like--you know." And he very desperately hoped that Harry did know, and that he didn't have to explain it.

Apparently Harry did, for he nodded and promptly put his hands to his sides, staring at Draco as if he were a morsel to be savoured--or perhaps Harry was the morsel. Either way, it eased the alarm bells ringing in Draco's head. Draco nodded, smiling, and crawled over to straddle Harry's body. First things first; they were entirely too dressed for his satisfaction. Draco pulled his own nightshirt up over his head, then worked Harry's off as well, looking him over hungrily. He had noticed earlier how Harry had filled out during his year of exile, and he took the time now to run his hands over the muscles, feeling the pale skin, letting his thumb graze over a nipple. Harry gasped, watching him in rapt fascination.

This was moving far beyond the territory of a simple handjob. Excitement thrummed in Draco's veins as he leaned over and very delicately brushed his lips around the shell of Harry's ear, then down his neck, finding a succulent spot to nibble and suck. He was pleased at the shudder which ran through Harry's body and the small intake of air that told him he was succeeding in unravelling the wizarding world's darling. He bit down, and chuckled as Harry groaned. Harry's hands were clenched into fists, pressing into the bed to keep from moving.

Draco casually licked the spot where he had bitten, and moved lower. "What . . . are you doing?" Harry asked in a breathy whisper when Draco found a pink nipple to tease with his tongue, sucking lightly.

"What, no one has ever done this to you?" Draco was amused when Harry shook his head. Harry, boy wonder, was apparently very much the innocent. He moved to the other nipple to garner it with the same attention, taking his time. Harry's chest heaved as he gasped for air, hands straying to a pronounced bulge in his sleep trousers. Draco batted his hands away. "At your sides, remember?" Harry's hands closed into fists, but he obediently returned them to his sides, lying back. Poor thing, Draco thought with amusement. Not used to obeying orders.

Draco flicked his tongue over the taut nipple one last time for good measure, and Harry let out a long low moan which sent a delicious ripple of lust through him. "Didn't have much time--fighting You Know Who," Harry said by way of explanation, voice faltering as Draco brushed his cheek against Harry's stomach. Draco's hands were busy at work pushing down Harry's pyjama bottoms to free an erection obviously desperate for attention. Draco closed his hand around the shaft, squeezing as he kissed the treasure trail leading down to his destination. Harry's stomach muscled clenched.

Harry's little attempt at an excuse required a reply. "You always could have made time. I think you merely lacked a suitable partner." Like himself, of course. Draco raised up on his elbows and planted a delicate little kiss on the head of Harry's cock, giving him a devilish smile. Harry looked like he might faint.

With that image, Draco bent his head and swirled his tongue around the head, sucking Harry's cock into his mouth, intent on showing Harry just how very much he had been missing out. At least that was his intention. After a few seconds, however, he found his throat was closing up with an unexpected gag reflex, and that his stomach was recoiling in fear. It's bloody Harry, not Pucey! He tried to tell his body. But his body didn't seem to want to listen to him. He had to stop and sit up again, shivering all over. He snarled, raging inside, close to tears. He wasn't going to let this thing rule him!

"What's wrong?" Harry sat up as well, one hand grazing Draco's cheek gently, cautious of touching him. Draco shook his head. He blinked away the moisture in his eyes.

"It's nothing. I just can't--" Draco shook his head again in frustration. Bloody hell! He thumped his fist against the bed. "They made me--" He waved his hand--Harry should be able to get the idea. What they made him do.

"You don't have to do anything. It's okay." Harry was trying to calm him by rubbing his arms, but Draco didn't want his arms rubbed. He wanted to be having bloody sex right now. This was so very not in his plans, being fucked up this way.

"It's not bloody okay! And I do have to. I'm not giving in to this. Now lie down!" Draco took it a step further by shoving Harry back down against the mattress and pinning him there with his body. Oh, that felt good. Skin against skin on their upper bodies, but Draco still had on his own bottoms. He crawled out of them and lied full on Harry again. Much better. He felt Harry relaxing as well, spreading his legs a little to allow more contact, watching him. He rubbed against Harry, letting their cocks graze each other, strengthening flagging arousals. Yes. More of that.

So he couldn't use his mouth on Harry just yet. Well, fine. He could still fuck Harry, and that was just what he would do. "Your wand, Harry. I need to borrow it." Draco gave a little thrust of his hips, to punctuate his request. Harry whimpered.

"Why?" Harry was wriggling beneath Draco, his own hips trying to answer for him, trying to grind up against Draco's body. Draco slapped Harry's thigh to get him to stop. He had to concentrate for a moment.

"Unless you want to get up and get the lube yourself, you ponce. I'll give it right back, I swear." Draco eased off of Harry enough so that Harry could reach into his nightstand drawer for it. Taking the wand, Draco flicked it once. "Accio lube!" The bottle sailed in from his room and he caught it, handing Harry back his wand.

Harry set the wand down, his eyes never leaving the bottle as Draco poured a little of the slippery fluid onto his fingers. "I take it you're . . . topping?" There was a hesitancy, a touch of fear to his voice that made Draco pause and look at him.

"Oh don't tell me you're a virgin."

"Um?" Harry's blush was answer enough. That and the slightly panicky look on his face. "Will it hurt? I always imagined, you know, being the one on top."

It figured, Draco thought with a mental sigh. Yet Harry had seemed to be taking the bottom's role quite nicely. "It can, if it's done against your will or you're tense. So relax. Trust me. I'll make it good." Draco brought his hand down and coaxed Harry's legs apart, fingers brushing over his balls, letting a moistened fingertip brush against the puckered flesh of his entrance. Harry's eyelashes fluttered. He let out a deep breath.

"Okay." Harry swallowed, body relaxing a little more, knees bent and legs spread to let Draco have access.

Brilliant, Draco thought. He granted Harry another smile, before moving to kneel between Harry's legs. He used his thumbs to spread the arsecheeks even further, exposing Harry's pucker, not touching him there, but just letting Harry feel the anticipation. Let him think about it. There was one thing he could do that would definitely ease any fear Harry might have, something that thankfully Pucey had never ordered him to do. Moving to lie down on his stomach, Draco leaned in close enough to just trace the tip of his tongue around Harry's hole. "Oh God," Harry said in wonder. Draco smirked.

The next lick was with the flat of his tongue, pressing against the puckered skin, wetting the area. Harry's legs trembled with the effort to keep still and a most interesting sound escaped his lips, but Draco didn't pause, pressing in further, letting his tongue breach Harry. Once he'd gained entry, he began to lap at the area, working his way deeper, as a stream of words left Harry's mouth, "Ohgodohgodoh . . . God!"

It was unfortunate that Draco couldn't reach far enough up to clap a hand over Harry's mouth and stop his incessant prattle, but Draco knew he could probably shut Harry up in other ways. He lined up a slicked finger and shoved it inside, even as he licked the area around it. Harry let out a long low moan, hands clawing at the sheets. Draco raised his head a moment to look at him. "Now does that hurt, really?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't stop," he begged, looking down at Draco. His glasses were slightly askew and there was a hungry light in his eyes.

Draco smiled, and bent to use his tongue a bit more, working it alongside his finger which was busy stroking Harry, coaxing things more open. He pulled his head back and poured on a bit more lube, working in a second finger, to where he could curl his fingers and brush them over the little ridge of flesh that would make Harry even want this more. Harry groaned loudly. Draco pulled his fingers slowly out, then thrust them in again, gratified when that earned another groan. "I trust that you're ready, then?"

"Oh yes," Harry confirmed, nodding. He looked drunk on sensation. He would look even more lovely in the morning, Draco thought--thoroughly debauched. Draco slicked up his cock, stroking himself a little, just enjoying the sight of Harry lying there open and ready and wanting him. He never thought that would happen. Enough waiting, Draco decided. Crouching over Harry, he rubbed the head of his cock against the slicked entrance and began pushing inside, leaning in to kiss Harry, to help distract him.

Harry clutched at him, forgetting the order to keep his hands at his sides, but Draco could forgive him that, given that it was his first time. He licked at Harry's upper lip while he waited for the initial clench to subside, easing his way inside another inch, pleased when Harry gasped at the feel of that. Draco nibbled along Harry's stubbled jaw as he just eased things bit by bit, until he felt Harry relax around him. Tight, and hot, and absolutely brilliant. Draco let out a groan of his own. "God, I missed this."

"Who did--" Harry began to ask, but he cut off his question with a gasp as Draco pulled almost out, then slid home again, brushing against his sweet spot. "Ooh, that's nice."

"Of course it is," Draco drawled. He licked a trail up Harry's throat. "And Blaise, of course. Though mostly he topped." He was setting up a steady pace, feeling the muscles inside Harry massaging his prick with each thrust. He grabbed onto Harry's hips for better control. The time for words was over.

Harry seemed to understand that, or he merely was out of words for the time being, kissing back at whatever part of Draco happened to be near his lips, which at the moment happened to be the side of his head. Draco moved back to his mouth, kissing him in breathless interludes between each thrust, the bed shaking with their movements. Oh Bellatrix, if you're watching this . . . enjoy. Draco thought with a rather savage pleasure. Perhaps they should christen every room of the house this way.

"Draco . . . need . . ." Harry began, and then finally moved his hand to his own cock, stroking himself, which was fine as Draco was rather busy holding himself up and pumping his hips hard into Harry, pace increasing, pleasure increasing. They were both getting close. He growled and bit down on Harry's throat and Harry cried out, hot come splashing between them, catching Draco by surprise. With a groan, Draco thrust in deep, and just the thought that this was Harry's first time undid him. He came hard, shuddering, lips pressed against Harry's skin.

They lay there together for a moment, breathing hard, not speaking. Pulses of pleasure were still going through Draco, and he suspected the same was happening to Harry, by the little twitches in his arse muscles. Slowly Draco pulled out. He didn't bother to wait for Harry this time, but took Harry's wand to cast cleaning charms on both of them. Then he returned the wand to its drawer.

Not surprisingly, Harry spoke first. "Does it feel . . . comfortable, using my wand?"

Draco fought the urge to giggle. Now that was a very odd question. "I don't know. It feels like mine, I suppose."

Harry was silent a moment, and Draco wondered what he was thinking. "Yours felt very comfortable when I was using it."

Draco had the feeling there was some undercurrent here that he wasn't fully grasping. "That's nice. Do I ever get to have it back?" He couldn't help the slight sarcasm which crept into his voice.

With a slow, careful movement, Harry brushed one of Draco's locks of hair from his eyes. It was almost a caress. "Maybe. If I feel I can trust you."

That odd warmth was back in Draco's stomach. He crawled off Harry, curling up beside him so that he could use his own pillow again. "It's not like I'm going to be working for some Dark Wizard again any time soon. I think I've learned my lesson there." After all, being Slytherin was about promoting your own power, not building up someone who could destroy you.

"True," Harry conceded. He yawned. "Tired. Tomorrow, we need to talk." He was lying on his side, facing Draco. Draco felt the urge to wrap himself around Harry, to lay his head against the naked chest. He settled for turning around and spooning himself up against Harry, taking Harry's hand to deliberately place on his waist. Harry took it upon himself to pull Draco a little closer still, so that he could feel Harry's breath just grazing his skin. It was a good feeling.

Draco yawned as well. "All right." He didn’t want to think about talking any more. He wanted to sleep.

Very shortly after, he did.

***

TBC

***