Harry Potter and The Charming Prince (BP7)

The day passed by quickly and the time outside with the children resulted in two very sleepy little ones who dozed off before Harry and Draco completed bedtime rituals with them. Heading back into their own room, Harry was afraid he might have dislocated his jaw with a yawn of his own. He had always considered himself to be an energetic person, but Valen had outlasted him among the apple trees and the day was finally catching up.

Stepping near the bed, Harry toed his shoes off and glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye. Figuring out his husband's feelings was sometimes difficult, but this evening it had been mostly baffling. The emotions that did manage to find themselves making an appearance in Draco's eyes seemed completely contradictory and Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it. There had never been an opportunity to ask Draco if something was wrong which slightly tested Harry's patience. Even though he knew Draco sometimes needed space or time to work through things inside his head, Harry wasn't always able to wait that long before needing to know what was going on. Now that they were alone, Harry wondered if he should ask or give his husband a moment. As he unzipped his trousers and gave a slight wriggle that sent them sliding to the floor, Harry began to silently count down sixty seconds in his head.

Draco had been distracted, thinking about the conversation with his mother and what it would mean to have her far away again. He was so caught up in his thoughts that looking up to find Harry naked almost came as a surprise and he smiled immediately. It was a sight he never tired of and his body reacted predictably enough.

Three ... Two ... One .... Harry's clothes were now completely gone and he had no more numbers left in his head. The counting had distracted him and he had nearly forgot exactly why he was counting until he looked up and saw Draco smiling at him. A glance down confirmed at least one suspicion, even if he still didn't know everything. Harry started to smile back but took a detour for a quick yawn which he covered with his hand. Pulling his hand away, the smile widened.

"What's that look for?" Harry asked, in mock-innocence.

Draco tossed the last of his own clothing aside and reached for his husband. "You," he said, voice suddenly husky and a grin on his face.

Harry moved closer and slid into Draco's arms. "Oh," he said nonchalantly. "Then I'll accept that look and, in exchange, you can have this ...." Harry leant in and began to lick and kiss at a spot on Draco's neck just below his ear that Harry was aware made his husband slightly weak in the knees.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and, lifting his head to let him suck his throat, pulled them both back into the large waiting bed.

Harry felt a swoop in his stomach as they fell together and he pulled his head back with a laugh once they landed safely on the bed with a soft bounce. It hadn't escaped his notice that Draco still wasn't saying much. In words, that is. His actions were saying quite a lot. Harry's laughter died away at the look in Draco's fathomless grey eyes; he studied the face that he loved before closing the gap between them and running his tongue lightly over Draco's bottom lip as a moist salve just before nipping gently.

"Biting mood?" Draco teased, taking hold of Harry's wrists and pulling them up above the man's head as he straddled him.

"Only if it's a day ending in a Y," Harry replied, allowing his arms to be captured.

"Keep them there," Draco ordered, smiling in acknowledgment of the joke but then giving his own bites as he nibbled along Harry's jaw to his ear.

Oh. So that's the kind of mood Draco was in, Harry realised with a soft groan as he tilted his head to the side to allow complete access. Harry fought the urge to clutch at Draco as he felt the little stinging sensations along his skin that made him shiver. He kept his hands above his head, though, and arched his body up in an unconscious attempt for more contact. Or, perhaps, not so unconscious as his hips rolled slightly and he groaned, "Need more ...."

"I need you," Draco whispered in his ear, tongue leaving a wet trail along the edge and his breath making Harry shiver. "I am going to ride you."

Those words made Harry's stomach feel the same way it had when they fell on the bed, only this time the only things falling were the soft gasps from Harry's lips and he nodded almost desperately. "Fuck, yes ... need you, need us, Draco ... ride me."

Draco reached beside the bed, picking up the jar of lube and sitting up, all the while looking down at Harry as he opened it and dipped the fingers of his hand into the oil. He knew he could ask Harry to Summon lube wandlessly but he wanted to do this himself, with his husband watching, like he did their first time together.

Harry's chest rose and fell with each breath of anticipation and he held still, searching Draco's face, wishing he could sweep aside the curtains that hid away the emotions so well. Their lovemaking was always filled with want and hunger for each other but the need tonight felt stronger to Harry in a way he would never find the words for but, fortunately, his body heard everything Draco wasn't saying. Harry's pupils widened in desire until the green was nearly consumed by dark lust as he whispered, "Want to be inside you ...."

"Yes," Draco agreed, oil dripping down his fingers and splashing on Harry's skin as he lifted up, reaching behind himself to press two fingers into his own body, silver hand braced on Harry's chest and mouth open as he gasped.

The sound of that gasp and the look on Draco's face forced any stray blood that had been circulating without a destination straight to Harry's cock and it hardened more than he might have thought possible. Watching the gleaming oil on Draco's hand and seeing his face in self-inflicted ecstasy, Harry was nearly lost as memories of their first time like this merged with the warm familiarity that all of their moments together had woven into the fabric of their skin. It was almost more than his body could take and he drew in large shaky breaths in an effort to keep from coming before his husband even touched him. Draco's face was beautiful. "Fuck," Harry murmured in awe. "You – you're just ...fuck."

Draco almost laughed, pleased as he always was with Harry's desire. He trembled as he worked his own fingers in and out of his body for a moment, oil dripping to Harry's belly below. Then he slipped them free and ran the oiled fingers down his lover's cock, squeezing it gently as he positioned himself.

Harry drew in a sharp breath at the touch, his arms nearly trembling now with the effort of keeping them above his head when he so desperately wanted to stroke Draco's thighs; run hands along his belly, his chest, his shoulders as he pulled his husband against his own chest. Instead, Harry's eyes drifted downward, waiting for the moment his cock would be surrounded by the heat of Draco. Licking his lips in an attempt to share moisture that his dry mouth wasn't capable of producing, Harry panted, "Yes, love ... take me inside of you ... oh, God ...."

"Oh, yes, I am going to," Draco answered breathlessly. Harry's hands twisted and Draco could feel the tension in the man as Harry struggled not to take control again. Magic flared, sending tendrils of power over Draco's skin as if, even with his hands passive, the wizard below him still couldn't completely submit. Draco lowered himself, feeling the blunt head stretching him open as his body accepted Harry's cock.

The trembling now spread to Harry's hips as he fought the urge to thrust up into Draco and take him in one quick push, but this wasn't about Harry. He wasn't even sure that it was really about Draco but it was definitely about both of them together. Harry swore he could feel his cock swell and strain the moment it began the maddening slide into Draco as if it could hurry things along by showing impatience. Energy roiled through Harry and he wouldn't have been surprised if a fierce wind suddenly began whipping through the room because there was a storm inside of him and the eye of that storm was sitting atop Harry looking incredible in the candlelight.

"I want to fuck you, Draco," Harry implored, keeping his eyes only on Draco's face now. "I want to fuck you so much."

An odd mixture of groan and chuckle escaped Draco as he let his weight bring him down the rest of the way, impaling himself on Harry, balls resting on the skin of his lover's groin and body spasming as he adjusted. "You have no patience, love," he teased, fingers of both hands curling against Harry's chest, smearing oil near one dark nipple.

"Fuck patience," Harry gasped and gave Draco a pleading look. "Now?"

"Fuck me," Draco agreed, nodding and waiting for the strike as he allowed his husband the chance to pounce.

"Oh, yes!" Harry said in a sort of strange choking cry of relief as he tilted his hips slightly to bring them down before slamming up into Draco with sweet fury. The impact was worth the wait; Harry squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. Sweat broke out on his skin, mingling in dark places with the oil and it was only the beginning of wet and friction and heated pulses. To the non-existent winds above him, Harry chanted, "In you ... in you -"

Draco knew that once Harry got going, it was best to hold on and enjoy the ride. He worked his hips in circles, a counterpoint to Harry's thrusts.

From that moment on, Harry let himself go, hips pounding and dark hair flying, except for the sweat-soaked strands that clung to his forehead and cheeks. The invisible bonds that held his arms back seemed to force strength into the lower half of his body as if in retaliation for having to stay still. Every muscle in Harry's hips and legs coiled and stretched in a furious rhythm that demonstrated the fact that Harry's grace wasn't limited to flying. Except he was flying right at that moment. Flying in and out of Draco and there was no better feeling in the world. Harry's breathing was ragged and nearly painful but he didn't care and he knew he would rather fuck Draco until he was blue in the face than slow down at that moment. He was too close to falling. "Oh, fuck, Draco ... close!"

Draco's hands slipped up to grab hold of Harry's shoulders, doing his best not to fall as his lover's body smacked into him over and over, magic in waves that made his head spin and pleasure rippling through him. His own hair was equally damp, beads of sweat falling to mingle with the pre-come that dripped from his prick as it bounced between them. He was too far gone to answer but he could feel the build-up of power that would bring him with his husband's orgasm.

Within seconds, the lion roared and drove his hips up trying to meld himself with Draco by force. Harry's cry of desire spiralled into a throaty moan of release when he held the thrust for a breath as the first spurt spilled inside of Draco. After that, the smooth rhythm deteriorated into a frenzy of movement as Harry's cock took over and pleasure singed every single nerve ending with a wave of fire. There were no more words; Harry surrendered himself to Draco's body.

Draco's release splattered between them, drops of white hitting Harry's chin. The blond threw his head back with a shout, fingers digging into Harry's skin. No matter how many times they made love, this moment always filled Draco with more than pleasure; with a sense of belonging that soothed every ache or fear he'd ever felt. He was Harry's and that's what he had always wanted.

Harry had opened his eyes in time to watch his husband lose himself and he was stunned each and every time he had the good fortune to witness it. The tendons in the pale neck stood out in sharp relief against an otherwise smooth surface. Harry's eyes skated up the neck to the face that was the picture of wanton elegance with trembling lips and flushed cheeks. Harry always declared every moment of their lovemaking to be his favourite but this really was. This was the exact moment when the blond shed the image of Draco Malfoy and became simply Harry's Draco. His beautiful dragon. Harry brought his aching arms down and ran his hands up and down Draco's thighs. "Fucking incredible," Harry whispered. Let Draco think he was talking about the sex. Harry knew what he was really talking about.

Draco was still shuddering as he looked down, his eyes on the emerald green of his husband's. He could still remember the first moment he had looked into those eyes in Madam Malkin's, nearly nine years before. He'd lost a part of himself then and had despaired that he would never be whole again. Sitting atop the man now, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive. "Amazing," he echoed and then leant forward to kiss Harry.

Harry brought his hands up and slid one behind Draco's neck to cup gently while the other one moved up and over Draco's shoulder to bring him close. He could taste his husband with every lick, every suck of the lips that were parting at his unspoken request. The kiss was lazy and wet and perfect. Harry pulled back a bit and rested his forehead against Draco's chin, releasing a quiet laugh. "I have to say that if I get that every time you give me a look then I'm going to be staring at you a lot more in the future. Just so you know ...."

Draco wriggled a bit, feeling the pleasant burn of his sore arse from the pounding and the sticky wet slide of their skin together. "I have always watched you," he reminded Harry, kissing the man's damp forehead. He loved his life now, but the conversation with his mother reminded him of those painful years when Harry had not returned his feelings.

"I'm still not sure exactly what you saw," Harry said, tilting his head back now to look into Draco's eyes. "But I'm glad you kept watching and waiting until I could see you too."

"Well, until I shoved you against a wall and kissed you," Draco quipped, reluctantly letting his husband's cock slip from inside him and moving to lie down beside him.

"It was pretty hard not to see you then," Harry replied with a grin. "That kiss was pretty eye-opening, Draco."

Draco lay on his back, looking up at the cross-beam of their canopy bed. The letter "H" was carved there. "It's amazing what one will do when you think there is nothing left to lose," he teased. "I remember thinking that if you killed me then it would have been worth it."

"Well, that first kiss probably wouldn't have got you killed although 'eye-opening' did nearly become eye-blackening but the second kiss ...." Harry scooted closer and laid his head on Draco's shoulder, also looking up at the carved initials. "The first kiss might have made me see you but it was the second kiss that made me want you and it was definitely worth it."

Draco couldn't have agreed more.