A Dark Time For The Light

22

Shortly after most of the workers had left for the day, another cadre gathered around ‘their’ table. Hermione, Ginny and Draco. Ginny had hold of the cadre’s debit card. Today they were going shopping.

They wandered, hither and yon, all day, but still Hermione didn’t have the deal she wanted. She ordered a taxi to take them not far from the Bunker, then the three of them piled into a late-night trade counter. Hermione waltzed in and demanded to speak to Iqbal. He emerged a moment later. “Janey”, he exclaimed. The eyes of her lover and friend widened. She shot them a ‘just-watch-this’ look and went to work.

In short order, she had them the best deal on a server and seven nodes. Iqbal fawned. “I am so glad to see you out of that life”. This from someone who had used her services for over a year. She dropped serious plastic after obtaining a decent discount and phoned a minibus sized taxi to take them home.

Various shifts of bodies helped them get the boxes stowed below, even though most of them had no idea what they were. Hermione unpacked one set of boxes. Soon a blue glow lit her face as she started to load stuff. An operating system, device drivers, whatever. Everyone left her to it as they went to bed. Ginny curled up on a bench and slept, waiting for her Mistress to finish, that they may go to bed together.

The week progressed and Friday wheeled around. The boys were in the van on their way to work. Harry had done rooting through the sports pages and idly flicked through the rest of the paper, when a photo brought him up short. The article beneath the picture made his eyes widen. “Cel. Sorry to be a pain in the arse, but can we stop somewhere I can charge my phone, please?. I need to contact someone urgently”. Cellan pulled the van into a side street. “Got your phone card with ya?”. Harry nodded. “Newsagents round the corner does phone top-ups. Don’t be long”.

Dean and Ron were mystified. Harry had just shot them a ‘tell-you-later’ look, jumped out of the van and ran out of sight. With trembling fingers he dialled Severus’ mobile. Let it ring three times then hung up. He repeated this twice. On the fourth ring Severus picked up, “Make this quick, Harry. I’m illegally pulled over at the side of the motorway”.

“Where are you, Sev?”. “About twenty miles north of Strensham services on the M5. Why?. “Don’t go to Bristol. There’s been trouble. Get a copy of the Daily Mirror, page 13. Be careful. See you later, Sev”, he closed the connection and ran back to the van.

As they set off, Harry showed his fellow Magicals the news item. A group of hippie traveller types had had their squat busted as a result of complaints of animal mistreatment. Several injured dogs had been removed by the RSPCA and in the course of the police investigations, several small quantities of hard drugs had also been seized, along with two unspecified firearms. The photo was of Thomas Nott, styled the ‘ringleader’ by the Press.

The other two shot each other dark looks. Harry was back on the phone, “Pansy. It’s Harry. Watch your backs, love”, he told them to get the paper and call back if Manchester heard any more. Then Kilmarnock. They’d heard a short piece on the morning’s news. Harry closed his phone and glanced around. The eyes of all but the driver were on them.

The girl in their crew, Steffie, was sitting opposite Harry, near the back door. She leaned over, “Are you guys all right?”. Harry nodded absentmindedly, “Yeah, it’s just some people we used to know at school have got themselves into trouble”. The others shrugged and turned back. But Steffie wasn’t convinced. She’d heard Harry’s quick muttered calls, the warning tone in his lowered voice, the urgency. She lowered her eyes and kept her own counsel.

That day there was another team of people working in the same room as Harry’s group. As Alan came over to Harry’s mixing station, he asked, “Who are that lot?”. Alan smiled. “We’re just putting on the base coats here, building up the layers. Then this lot will do all the decorative plasterwork and the gilding, in line with the house’s age. Eventually these walls will have their gilded plaster frames returned to them, and the huge ceiling roses put back. Then mirrors on the wall opposite the windows and this ballroom will be returned to its original splendour”. Alan sighed wistfully.

Harry was intrigued. He’d already discovered that this was the first project of this kind that the gang had worked on, their projects being of a much more mundane nature, office blocks, commercial premises and the like, and he didn’t feel so much of a total newbie anymore. But he realised work on projects of this nature was extremely prestigious, not to mention more interesting for the lads. Even the guys who couldn’t give a stuff for history enjoyed the variety in the work.

At lunchtime, he drifted over to the small group in the corner, heads bent diligently over trestle and board benches with tweezers in one hand holding fine slivers of gold leaf, the other holding paintbrushes, gentling the gold into place on what looked like chunks of ceiling architrave.

He watched for a while standing a little away. Eventually one of the three women looked up. Harry smiled at her, “Looks interesting”, he ventured. She smiled back, “Actually it’s boring as fuck, but we get paid for it”. Harry laughed. “M’name’s Harry. I work with the painters”, he nodded at her. Her cut crystal voice replied, “Jacinta. Pleased to meet you”. The others were now looking up. “Sorry”, Harry stammered, “Didn’t mean to mess up the concentration, only I’ve a friend who can do this and I’ve never seen it done before”.

“You have?”. The interest was instant. “Does he need a job?. Only we’re supposed to do this vast fine-art project as if we’re bloody jobbing labourers and a spare pair of hands would be a godsend. Where did this friend of yours train?”. Harry was stumped. So he told the truth. So far. “Well, actually, he’s the son of nobility, learned to do this as his ancestral home was having the East wing restored, so didn’t train at any college, but with the finest artisans actually practicing their craft”.

Her interest was definitely piqued. Harry grinned. ‘Well, it’ll get him out of the house’, he thought. His train of thought was broken, “It’s only two hundred a week, probably less than half of what you chaps earn, but if he wants to pop himself along on Monday, then I’ll give him a turn around the paddock”

Harry grinned at the horsy terminology, “Right-ho, Monday it is”, he barely suppressed a giggle as he left them. Ron nudged him as he flopped down beside him, “What’s so funny, Harry?”. Harry turned laughing eyes to them, “I think I just found Draco a job”. Dean nearly choked on his sandwich. “Draco Malfoy working?”.

Harry glared at him and Ron put out a restraining hand. “Come on, Dean, he did ask you about gilding work when you offered us work, yes?”. Dean, the wind firmly removed from his sails, nodded. “Sorry, Harry. I knew about this team, but I couldn’t in a million years imagine him getting his hands dirty”. Harry smiled, “He claims to be good at this, something he learned at home during some restoration. He ought to have a chance to contribute. Not that he doesn’t already. Did you know that it was him and Ginny that have done most of the washing recently?”.

Dean looked up, genuinely surprised, “I had no idea, actually, none at all. I mean my clean clothes somehow come back to me after I’ve left them, and I don’t have to rummage them out of the pile anymore, just a neat stack with my name on a post-it note”. He looked Harry in the eye. “That’s their new system, isn’t it?”

The other two started to laugh. Ron said, “Come on, Dean. I know we both thought that the guy’s a git, but let’s face it, he really has changed, and he does help, and...and...”, Ron glanced at Harry, “He’s alright actually”, he finished in a low voice.

Lunch was over and the boys all separated again into their groups. Alan and Gary turned in a very satisfactory report on the two new boys, given that neither of them had worked at this trade before, and the redhead had never actually worked yet, and it was agreed to keep them on. It was with great satisfaction, that they bade each other goodnight and Cellan’s vanload set off.

Harry and Ron had a pocketful of cash each. Ron said, “Well? Isn’t it a British custom to find a pub somewhere and the newbies have to buy their work-mates a pint?” Steffie laughed, “I don’t know if it’s a custom or not, but I’ll go for it”. Cellan pulled them up beside a tiny Irish pub he knew that was tolerant to a bunch of workers still in overalls.

They tipped into the games room and in short order were downing their first pints, Ron proudly paying for the first round. Harry got the second round in, then joined Cellan at the pool table. He was thrashed soundly and ceded the table, sitting next to Ron and imbibing his second pint. Ron was nervous, “How much did the Bristol cadre know about the rest of us?”. Harry whispered, “Not much. We just delivered the mail and got the hell out of there”. He shuddered as he remembered.

“Severus doesn’t stay there, even if it’s late at night. It’s a horrible place, Ron, but I’m worried as to what they will do or say in order to save their skins”. Harry sighed and slumped in his seat, “It was Sev I had to call this morning. He was on his way there. In fact, I should call him again, thinking about it”.

He flipped open his mobile and pressed keys. Ron never ceased to be slightly amazed at these devices, gazing earnestly at his friend as he awaited connection. “Sev..Sev....It’s me, Harry. Where are you? Are you okay?”. There was a mumble of chat, then Harry’s face softened, “Oh, you’re there”, and his voice reduced to a purr. Harry turned away from Ron for the remainder of the call. Snapping his phone shut, he rolled back and his head hit the back of the seat, his eyes closed, his face flushed.

“What did he say?. Harry. Oh, Harry. Come in, please, over”. Harry snapped back, “Shit, must be more tired than I thought. Sorry, Ron. He’s been to the police station where they are all being held, but they are due up before the magistrates in the morning, with a recommendation to be remanded in custody. Fuck!. I hope they don’t know too much. I need to speak to either Mad-Eye or Tonks. Whoever dowsed them and failed them to join the rest of us”

Ron had the feeling that this bit of the call that had just been relayed to him wasn’t the bit that was making Harry melt into his seat. He just cast his best mate a sidelong glance and swallowed beer. He rose, “Get you another one?”. Harry grinned and nodded, feeling a bit light-headed.

After the third one, Cellan declared, “Come on, I’m the driver and I do have a home to go to, not to mention a lovely missus and a hot dinner”. They joshingly finished their third pint, “Don’t you mean a hot wife and a lovely dinner”. The man blushed, “Aye, that, too”.

As they drove back, Harry shyly asked, “Cel, is there room for another on Monday?. One to join the art team, not workin’ for us, but it seems a bit daft to let the lad try and get here by underground, when there’s a lift”. The others shrugged fuelled by alcoholic bonhomie. Steffie spoke up, “I don’t mind squishing up”. The others all made affirmative nods or shrugs. “Thanks, guys”, as they were let out on their corner and the van pulled away.

They entered the Bunker, cooking smells wafting up to meet them. They had a carrier bag of beer each as they descended into the canteen. Harry, Ron and Dean wobbled slightly over to their table. Harry dropped a kiss on Draco’s upturned mouth then sat down. Draco grimaced, “Ew. Paint and beer. I’ll get you some grub”. He rose and returned in minutes, plunking a plate of stew and dumplings before the love of his life, who wolfed it down. Hermione leaned in towards Harry’s other side, Harry leaned a little himself, “You know, I think you and Draco would make a lovely dom/sub couple”, she purred. Harry gave her an odd look and continued with his dinner.

As the meal ended, they all popped cans. Harry pulled Draco into his lap and explained about his upcoming job. Draco pulled away from the embrace, his eyes wide, “Really?”, his amazed response. Then he kissed Harry on the forehead, a bit distracted, then held him tight. He was murmuring, “A job. A real job. Oh fuck”. Harry tightened his hold around his beloved.

That night they hogged the beer taking it back to their room and having a party for two, Harry’s tinny little radio providing the music. They drank and danced and made love until late into the night. The more Draco drank, the less he minded his beloved’s aroma until, Harry, on an impulse dragged Draco to the shower room, to find it deserted, locked the door and they got both clean and extremely dirty beneath hot running water. They both emerged, smelling sweet and thoroughly tired and went back to bed, sleeping in a sweet tangle of boys and limbs.

****

Saturday, and Draco was awake before Harry. His stomach in knots thinking on the coming Monday. Then, he put his worries aside as he leaned up on one elbow and gazed down at his beloved, just one candle still alight from the night before. Draco knew Harry had specifically lit it so he could watch Draco as he fell asleep. He leaned over Harry and kissed his forehead, “You old romantic, you”, he murmured, completely unable to see the irony as he settled down again, waiting for his beloved to wake.

That day they all went shopping. Hermione needed some clothes. She had been rescued in what she stood up in, and while Ginny had lent her stuff, she had put a little weight back on and needed shorter jeans than her lover. Harry and Ron needed overalls for work. Draco and Ginny were a bit short of clothes too, only stuffing a couple of changes in their knapsacks before they’d fled.

That morning Hermione had dipped into a Post Office, emerging with several forms that she secreted into her bag. As they passed a main rail station, they ducked inside and Hermione fed Ron into a photo booth, closed the curtain, said, “Keep a straight face and your eyes open”, set the machine and they continued on their expedition, an identical four-way print of Ron’s face in her bag.

She diverted them all into a branch of their bank that opened Saturday mornings, obtained a dazed Ron’s signature on several papers and the redhead left the bank with an account worth 10 grand and the promise of the debit card and PIN within days.

They spent the whole day enjoying the fresh air (well it seemed fresh after being below ground for so long!), diving in and out of shops. They fell into a greasy cafe, bags piled around them and ordered food.

They arrived back in the Bunker tired and happy. They’d made some odd purchases at Hermione’s request. Rolls of a particular type of wire. Strange-looking plastic plugs, screwdrivers, a multi-meter, and a telephone handset as well as the staples of toiletries and clothes.

Hermione handed back to Minerva the cadre’s debit card along with all of the receipts. She was quite happy handling money, so long as it was plastic. Plastic couldn’t let you score. Plastic didn’t make her nervous. She had to account for every penny with the cadre’s plastic and this made her feel useful but safe.

That evening as they sipped beer, Hermione helped Ron with his passport form as Harry dug out some more of their purchases, a six-way plug socket, plugged into an unused socket under the rear bench of the canteen, then unwound six phone chargers. Then assembled six pay-as-you-go mobiles and set them to charge. As he did so, he was aware of a shadow falling across him and looked up.

A skinny, lanky Asian boy stood there. “Hi, there. M’names Ibrahim. C’n I help at all?”. Harry smiled up at the boy and extended a hand, “Hi, I’m Harry, and, yes, I think we could do with a hand here, though not necessarily with the phones. Sit down for a bit. You need to speak with Hermione and she’s a bit busy. Want a beer?”. The young lad shook his head, “No, thank you. I don’t touch alcohol”, but sat anyway.

Hermione left Ron with the form as Harry alerted her attention and introduced herself to the diffident boy. They grinned cautiously at each other, “Okay, Ibrahim, I’ll level with you. I’m trying to build a seven-node WAN between the different cadres and I haven’t got a clue. I suspect I’ve got most of what I need, but until I have a go at hacking us a phone line I won’t know for sure”. They then entered into a highly technical discussion with Hermione rummaging amongst the boxes and bags of kit withdrawing items as the boy reeled off a list of what they needed. Harry sat back amazed. He was a muggle-raised child, but this was completely over his head. He was fascinated nonetheless.

The two turned to the computer that Hermione had already built, eyes flashing, faces serious in the ethereal glow, although when Hermione turned to the screen, Harry caught an awed look on the young man’s face and smiled. Ron was still busy with his form, Hermione and Ibrahim at the computer. Ginny was off talking to others, so Harry wandered off in search of his lover.

He found him in their room, shoes off and all the new books he’d purchased that day spread out on the bed around him. Draco was lying on his stomach, a pillow propping him up, his nose deep into a book. Harry stood in the doorway for a moment before Draco looked up. “Am I disturbing you, love?”. Draco smiled and laid the book down, “Yes, but I don’t mind. What’s up, Harry, you look all at a loose end?”. He gathered his books together then patted the spot beside him. Harry closed the door and made for the bed, kicking off his shoes, then flopped down beside Draco, sighing, “Everyone else is busy tonight. Sorry, love, carry on reading”.

Draco gazed at his lover who lay on his back, his eyes closed, not sleepy, just relaxed. Draco turned to the front of the book he had just started, pitched his voice low, in story-telling mode and began, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit......”, and began to read aloud. Harry revelled in that voice and lost himself in the tale. When Draco hesitated, he turned onto his stomach, grabbed the book and read aloud the next several chapters. When he got to a cliff-hanger, he folded the corner of the page down and laid the book aside.

He received a gentle swat on his arm, “Awww, Harry, why did you leave it there?”. Harry leaned down and kissed him, “’Cos right now, I’d rather be doing this”, and kissed him again with feeling, the lush mouth opening beneath his and their tongues joining, a slow heat building. The night was about sensuality and they both indulged, resting then going again, more about love than sex. They both collapsed against each other, sweaty, sated messes as outside, the dawn rose, but around them just blanketing darkness as they slept.

They rose late on Sunday, missing breakfast, preferring to feast on each other instead. Then lurched into lunch. The full monty, roast beef, Yorkshire pud and all the trimmings. They applied themselves seriously to the acquisition of calories and ate enough for three between them.

They caught up on all the news and gossip, Draco lying in Harry’s drowsy arms. Hermione lit the blunts once lunch was finished and the cadre of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Draco, Dean and Seamus all enjoyed a smoke and a few beers, swapping the more humorous stories of their lives until they had found the Resistance, keeping it light-hearted even though all had suffered from the leaving of School to this moment. Now, they realised the necessity of keeping it light and they were all entertained by stories from the lighter side of life where those tales existed.

The evening was sexy and languorous for those that could, For the others it was a hot shower and an early night. Harry wandered in from his shower to find Draco with a unrolled leather case on their bed, checking the brushes and other equipment housed within and realised his Dragon was really nervous about being tried out for work. In a second he sank down beside him throwing comforting arms around him, “I know you’ve not worked before, but neither had Ron and he’s doing fine. Two parts knowledge to six parts bluff. You can do it, my Dragon. If you really know your craft, then these people need you. Don’t worry love, I’m sure you’ll be fine”.

Although he slept, Draco tossed and turned somewhat through the night. Harry held him down and they spent the rest of the night in sweet sleep.

Monday, and they waited for the van. Draco was visibly nervous. Ron grabbed his cold hands in his large warm palms. “ ‘S’alright, Draco. The first day’s always the worst. Don’t let ‘em send you for a long stand or a tin of rainbow paint, they’re just takin’ the piss. Ask Harry”. Draco appreciated the comfort and grinned at Ron and pulled his hands away, “Cheers, Ron”, he grinned, “I’ll remember. A long stand and rainbow paint”. The van hove into sight and the four of them climbed aboard.

A bit of a close fit, but Steffie had deliberately placed herself in the back and gasped as she was introduced to the newest passenger. He had to be at least six one in height. Slender, even a bit lanky, but totally gorgeous and obviously gay without being queeny in the slightest. At Cellan’s , “You all right mate?”. Draco beamed, “Yes. Thank you”. He introduced himself. Steffie clasped his hand in both of hers and he divined, ‘fag-hag, ally’, and was happy, trying not to lay his head on Harry’s shoulder.

They arrived on site and Harry had a word with Alan then led Draco away and introduced him to Jacinta. He knew Draco used his hauteur to disguise the terror he felt. But it seemed to go over a storm with his prospective work-mates, so Harry left to go about his own day with a grin.

At lunch-time he looked in to find Draco bent over a piece of really intricate work, a cherub and swag where the others were doing bits of architrave still. He felt a presence behind him, a whisper, “He’s fucking good. Where did you find this guy?”. Harry grinned, “Promise you won’t tell the painting team?”. Jacinta nodded and looked up, intrigued, into the boy’s green eyes. “He’s my boyfriend. The love of my life”. Jacinta coughed and looked up. To malachite eyes watching Draco hard at work at his craft. “I’ve never seen him do this although I always knew he could”, he whispered, then went back to his job, his lunch-hour finished.

Jacinta felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes as she set to work. Without rancour, her team had decided unanimously that after seeing the quality of Draco’s work he was the best able to do the intricate stuff, the others being students and the gorgeous platinum blond seemed to be the most highly qualified for the work they had to do. Jacinta, realising that the integrity of the team rested on the quality of the work done, automatically assigned the finest work to the person who could actually do it. Draco Malfoy. He set about it with a passion.

By mid-afternoon, Jacinta was on the phone to her bosses. By the end of the day, Draco was offered half as much again as the others earned for his special skills. He accepted politely, as befitted a Malfoy. He glowed in the van on the way back to the Bunker. He had been promoted on his first day. As Jacinta drove up West with her gaggle of workers to drop off, she secretly wondered where she’d got hold of such an expert from at such a young age and so cheap.

By the end of his second week his wages had gone up, to the level of Harry’s. The following week, the head of the Restoration team visited, saw Draco’s work and offered him twice as much again, fearing to lose such a craftsman by being a cheapskate. The work was on date and on budget, thanks to the new guy.

Draco kept his head low in the van on the way home that Friday, but Harry knew he was exultant. He made up his mind and announced it. “This guy has gone from 200 quid a week to 800 in three weeks on the strength of his work alone. I think that deserves a round of applause”. They all clapped as Draco reddened, shooting Harry a ‘I’ll get you later’ look. Then grinned, “Let’s go to the pub”. No-one could disagree with that and a convivial early evening was spent until their driver complained and they were all dropped off.

They carried bags of take-out beer back with them as they staggered slightly into the Bunker, laughing and giggling as Tonks let them in. The evening meal was over and they staggered to their table and slumped down. Dean, Ron, Harry and now Draco. They cracked a fresh can apiece then raised their eyes to see who else was sat at their table, expecting the girls at least, but just one pair of obsidian eyes, gazing deep into Harry and Draco’s.

Emboldened by beer and flushed on Draco’s success. They both met those eyes. Then glanced at each other. Ron watched a wicked smile pass between them, as, without further ceremony,. They led Severus Snape from the canteen to have their wicked way with him.

Ron sighed as they all left, not sure whether to feel disgusted or incredibly aroused. His mind wanted the first, his body settled for the latter. He sighed as he watched them leave.

Seamus leaned over, “Fancy a bit of that action, Ron?”, he inclined his head in the direction of their retreating backs. Ron just cast him a sidelong glance and grinned. He stood making to leave and Seamus halted him with a restraining hand and a ‘look’, a small smile. Ron’s grin widened, a nod and the boys left the canteen together.

Harry Draco and Severus tipped into their room and Draco slammed the door behind them, a wild look in his eyes, which changed as he watched Severus slump against one of the desks, his head in his hands. Harry was beside him immediately an arm slipped around him, “Sev. What’s wrong?. I’m sorry, did we come on a bit strong?”. Draco was at his other side, “Hey, Severus, if you don’t want this, we’ll back off. Come on, let’s all get comfy, have a drink and a chat, yes?”. Harry smiled at his beloved and Severus raised his head.

“Sorry, boys. Its just...Oh fuck.. I told Remus about what had gone on, on our trip, Harry, and he’s thrown me out. I told him it was just fun....but you know how he is. He railed at me and shouted and screamed, then gave me my marching orders, said he appreciates the mail runs and everything, but I’ve got a feeling that after the debacle at Bristol they’ll have to cease too. Oh fuck, what am I going to do now?”, he folded forwards, his shoulders shaking and Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around him, gathering him up and letting him sob on his shoulder, rocking him and hushing him in low murmurs.

They all staggered over to the bed and Harry laid Severus down. His head lolled back onto the makeshift headboard. Harry and Draco to either side of him. The fatigue was plain in his face. He tried to rise again, “Maybe I should just spend the night in the bunk room”. A pair of hands restrained him pushing him gently back. One of Harry’s, one of Draco’s. “Oh no you don’t”, Harry murmured, “You’re staying right here. Someone needs a little TLC”. Between him and his beloved they undressed the man in their midst and manoeuvred him beneath the covers, before rising and slowly stripping each other by the light of a single candle.

Severus watched the performance before him from under lowered lashes becoming more and more aroused by the minute, then when Draco dropped to his knees before Harry and took him into his mouth, Severus pushed the bedding down and grasped his erection, kicking the blankets away. Both boys noticed and Harry grinned at his beloved who withdrew his mouth and they both advanced on the man in their bed. Harry squirmed along one side, an arm drawing him up until they were face to face, then Severus tipped his head to one side and Harry descended on his mouth, all searing tongue and cool swollen lips.

Draco wriggled in along his other side, a warm hand between his shoulder blades as he opened his mouth around the head of Severus’ weeping cock and took as much of it as he could manage as deep as he could. Severus pushed in and moaned into Harry’s mouth as desire and want rose between them.

Harry pushed them all apart slightly. “Dragon, You said you wanted to watch him fuck me and you will. Sev, I want to ride your cock and watch you suck Draco at the same time”. There was no disagreement and they moved around. Severus was flat on the bed, he pulled Harry to him and kissed him again as Draco prepared him. He groaned at the ministrations from the two of them. Severus’ tongue in his mouth. Draco’s fingers deep in his arse, his cock in Draco’s mouth.

When he felt suitably prepared, Harry broke it up again and positioned himself over Sev’s cock and slowly lowered himself, his eyes burning deep malachite into Draco’s. Draco lowered his mouth as if hypnotised and kissed Severus hard and deep, then moved behind his head opening his legs in a vee around it. In a trance he watched Harry raise and lower himself on that huge cock, his face flushed. Then raised himself onto his knees and fed Severus his cock, bending it downwards into an eager mouth, he watched Severus sucking him for a moment, then lifted his head. He was inches from Harry’s lush mouth. They moved together and kissed over Severus’ prone body, his cock buried deep in Harry, his throat filled with Draco.

He raised his knees and amped up the thrusts into Harry, whose kisses melted into desperation as Draco fucked Severus’ mouth harder. Harry slammed down on Severus again and again. He felt the huge cock inside him thicken and plunged down harder. He felt a hand close around his own cock, Draco’s tongue in his mouth, Sev deep inside him and he bucked and writhed wildly, all rhythm gone, just the purity of fucking and being fucked. Draco was the first to succumb, jetting copious sweet come down Severus’ throat causing the older man’s balls to constrict and he came, crying out loud deep into Harry, who climaxed plentifully over Severus’ stomach.

They withdrew from various orifices and lay in a heap, all sweaty, come leaking out or liquifying and running off flesh. They didn’t care and gathered themselves up. Harry ended up lying between his two favourite Slytherins. His mind giggled at such a thought, though he didn’t articulate it as his two lovers twined legs and arms about him and he felt more loved than he ever had in his life before, revelling in the afterglow, kissing both of his partners, then snuggling down and being held from both sides. He was in heaven. He felt the limbs covering him grow heavy and he wriggled up the bed until he was partially sat up. He stroked the men lying either side of him in sleep, then reached behind his head for his can and quaffed the rest of it watching both of his lovers sleep. He sneaked out from between them to go to the loo, then snuggled back in, arms and legs immediately twining around him. With a big grin, he doused the candle and slept.