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Don't Get Caught
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,783
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,783
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Mine
Harry is nothing short of furious. Not only has Draco taken Scorpius away on business instead of dropping him off for the weekend as planned, but Al returned home from his stay at Malfoy Manor decorated in purple love bites. Harry is shocked at how little flesh remains skin coloured; Al is one great big walking bruise. No amount of tugging his collar up can cover the livid marks, and Harry knows he has no right to pry; Al is seventeen and legal after all; but Harry wants to know which worst case scenario he’s dealing with.
Either Draco has charmed his son into the bedroom, or Scorpius is cheating on him. Neither prospect is appealing, but while the former reignites a hatred for Draco that has long remained dormant, the latter leaves him wiping bile from his lips. He has never had a conversation with Scorpius about the exclusivity of their relationship; it honestly never occurred to him that he might need to. Harry mentally kicks himself for not having told Scorpius sooner how dangerously besotted he is; how the freshly washed smell of the boy’s hair is an aphrodisiac, how the musky scent between his legs intoxicates him. He hasn’t told Scorpius how tracing the defined ridges of his finely sculpted abdomen leaves him hypnotized, making him so hard he cannot physically walk to the bedroom. Watching Scorpius’ hand on his own cock, hearing him moan loudly when Harry insists on replacing it with his mouth, only fuels his desire. The slurping noise his tongue makes, piercing Scorpius’ hole, the way the youthful thighs quiver when locked in position by Harry’s arms, the glorious, blissful feeling of Scorpius’ flesh giving way as Harry pushes his cock into tight, welcoming heat; all of these things confirm what he has known all along; he cannot and will not give the boy up.
He doesn’t want to share Scorpius with his son; doesn’t want to imagine the pale beauty looking at someone else the way he looks at him. He wants to believe that the numerous times he has growled ‘Mine’ against a fevered cheek or damp forehead will have left the boy in no doubt Harry was staking his claim. He is disgusted with himself for hoping it was Draco who left a pattern of teeth marks on Al’s neck, and equally ashamed to admit he has no idea what his reaction will be to the unthinkable alternative.
Harry groans out loud and tries to shut his brain down, but a torrent of unbidden images flood his mind; Scorpius fucking Al, Al riding Scorpius, Scorpius on his knees sucking Al off; Harry has to fight back the rising nausea.
Three weeks of summer holiday left. Harry doesn’t think he can wait until they return to Hogwarts, the exasperation he feels at not knowing will only increase with each passing day, and it’s not as if he can question Al. If Draco wasn’t so obsessed with security, he could sneak in and ask the boy outright, but getting through the various wards and protections on the Manor is about as easy as breaking into Gringotts. Still, he’s been there and done that, so it should, by comparison, be a piece of cake.
***
Either Draco has charmed his son into the bedroom, or Scorpius is cheating on him. Neither prospect is appealing, but while the former reignites a hatred for Draco that has long remained dormant, the latter leaves him wiping bile from his lips. He has never had a conversation with Scorpius about the exclusivity of their relationship; it honestly never occurred to him that he might need to. Harry mentally kicks himself for not having told Scorpius sooner how dangerously besotted he is; how the freshly washed smell of the boy’s hair is an aphrodisiac, how the musky scent between his legs intoxicates him. He hasn’t told Scorpius how tracing the defined ridges of his finely sculpted abdomen leaves him hypnotized, making him so hard he cannot physically walk to the bedroom. Watching Scorpius’ hand on his own cock, hearing him moan loudly when Harry insists on replacing it with his mouth, only fuels his desire. The slurping noise his tongue makes, piercing Scorpius’ hole, the way the youthful thighs quiver when locked in position by Harry’s arms, the glorious, blissful feeling of Scorpius’ flesh giving way as Harry pushes his cock into tight, welcoming heat; all of these things confirm what he has known all along; he cannot and will not give the boy up.
He doesn’t want to share Scorpius with his son; doesn’t want to imagine the pale beauty looking at someone else the way he looks at him. He wants to believe that the numerous times he has growled ‘Mine’ against a fevered cheek or damp forehead will have left the boy in no doubt Harry was staking his claim. He is disgusted with himself for hoping it was Draco who left a pattern of teeth marks on Al’s neck, and equally ashamed to admit he has no idea what his reaction will be to the unthinkable alternative.
Harry groans out loud and tries to shut his brain down, but a torrent of unbidden images flood his mind; Scorpius fucking Al, Al riding Scorpius, Scorpius on his knees sucking Al off; Harry has to fight back the rising nausea.
Three weeks of summer holiday left. Harry doesn’t think he can wait until they return to Hogwarts, the exasperation he feels at not knowing will only increase with each passing day, and it’s not as if he can question Al. If Draco wasn’t so obsessed with security, he could sneak in and ask the boy outright, but getting through the various wards and protections on the Manor is about as easy as breaking into Gringotts. Still, he’s been there and done that, so it should, by comparison, be a piece of cake.
***