Broken Toy

Warnings: angst, violence, abuse, some romance, hurt/comfort, simply NC17…
Author's Notes:
RL has been kind of rough the last weeks, so it did take long to finish chapter 32. Sorry about that. Plus “the muse” left me - the chap didn’t seem to turn out right, and I had to rewrite it often.
It was supposed to be the last chapter, but since it grew longer and longer, I divided it into two parts. I’m happy to state that chap 33 is already drafted - it needs some rewriting (maybe a lot, as I know myself by now, *g*), but on the whole, it’s finished, too. That’s why I know the story will end soon - unless the epilogue will take me longer than expected.

Hm, I want to apologize for posting so seldom again. It’s amazing that so many of you are still reading this story, although it takes so much time to finish it - thank you and *hugs*!

I hope you’ll like the next chap. Enjoy!


Chapter Thirty-Two

“Happy?”

The low voice right beside his ear made Draco flinch. Angrily, he turned around, searching for the source of disturbance.

Soft green eyes were looking up at him. “Sorry…”

Harry.

Immediately, the euphoric ease Draco had just experienced dissolved into nothingness. Gone was the overriding pleasure of being free at last. Forgotten were the happy, quick daydreams about what to do next and where to go first. Instinctively he tried to, but failed to ignore Harry’s presence. He also failed to push back memories of recent events.

Your plan didn’t work out. You think if you treat me like shit, I will return you the favour? Want me to assure you that you are nothing like scum? You can’t scare me off.

Harry had been right. Draco had deliberately done everything possible to destroy that fragile something that was between them. But, after all, Draco couldn’t help himself; he always had been a loser.

I said, stop your self-pity!

Draco was simply an idiot.

The least he could do now was try to apologize appropriately and express his gratitude. Harry deserved it; he had set him free.

“Harry, honestly…” Draco’s mouth went dry; as hard as he swallowed, he couldn’t go on talking.

“Draco, I really don’t want to spoil your fun; you’re without doubt enthusiastic, and happy, and all; it’s just…” Harry giggled nervously. “Neville will turn up any minute; he wanted to help restore the living room, and I know Gwenny and Lance are somewhere around to help, too, and,” Harry giggled again, “well, you know, I’m not sure if you want to present yourself starkers…” Harry let his eyes run over Draco’s body und pursed his lips meaningfully. “Not that it isn’t an agreeable sight, mind you; I really do like what I see, but maybe you’d better--”

“WHAT?” Draco broke in. How could Harry be occupied with such unimportant things like clothing when Draco had assaulted him only a short time ago? Words tumbled out of his mouth excitedly. “To think that I was about to--” he started to stammer. “I--I could have hurt you. I could have seriously hurt you. You’re not--you never before--and if I had--”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched. Was he laughing at him? Merlin’s pants, Draco couldn’t detect anything humorous in his choked out apology.

“Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad as you fear,” Harry was grinning broadly now.

Draco shook his head. Harry’s obvious amusement was beyond his comprehension. It wasn’t funny at all that Draco had almost taken him without any preparation. Of course the first penetration hurt like hell. It took some time to learn how to relax so there was neither pain nor damage; Draco knew that all too well.

Harry scratched his neck casually, too casually. A soft shade of pink spread over his face.

“I--err--trained a bit.” The pink intensified and turned into a deep red.

Draco frowned, “You--did what? Trained?” Then the possibilities of what ‘training’ could mean sunk in. He went mad right away. “What? When? With WHOM?” Before he could stop himself, he found himself shaking Harry’s shoulders violently.

“D--d--d--di--d--d--doh,” Harry’s teeth were shattering.

“WHO?” Draco bellowed, almost out of his mind.

Harry shook himself free, his blush more pronounced than ever. “Dildo, silly,” he laughed. “I got myself some different sized dildos. Just to… well, you know.” Harry cast his head down. “I thought it might help,” he mumbled. “I--you aren’t exactly small, you know? I just didn’t want to scream when you… well, you know.”

Draco stared open-mouthed at Harry’s retreating back.

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

Going through the routine of showering and dressing, Draco’s mind was occupied by images of Harry, dildos, Harry’s well-toned chest, dildos, Harry’s soft lips, dildos, and Harry’s firm bum.

Harry’s without a doubt intended distraction had worked all right. With his ‘confession’, Harry had successfully driven all kinds of dark, remorseful thoughts from Draco’s mind.

It turned out to be difficult to squeeze his eager erection into trousers, and even more difficult to force the luscious images from his mind. It wouldn’t do to present himself with a pronounced bulge in his shorts when meeting the others.

Neville had indeed arrived in the meantime. When Draco entered the ruins of the living room, Neville was already discussing with Harry, Gwenny and Lance the necessary steps to renovate. Before Draco even had a chance to feel awkward joining the intimate discussion of friends, Harry sensed his presence. At once he was by Draco’s side.

“Listen, Draco,” Harry said with a hushed voice. “Last night I agreed with Hermione to go over ‘matters’ this afternoon. We don’t want to leave tomorrow’s hearing in front of the Wizengamot to chance; we want to be prepared as best as possible. Do you want to come along? Or do you want to help the others with the living room? Or do you want to just relax? After all the strain of the previous days a little rest definitely would do you good; you’ll need your strength tomorrow.” Harry spread out his hands. “Well, it’s up to you to decide. What do you want?”

The prospect of going over legal matters with Hermione didn’t sound very attractive. Plus, most probably, a traumatized, hostile Ron would be around, breathing sulkily down their necks if the debate went too technical. And regardless what they discussed, Draco would be sentenced for violation of the law anyhow; he had been aware of the penalty and had accepted the consequences as soon as he had used magic in Pickles’s cellar. - And relax? How could Draco relax? now? He felt restless, edgy. So many different thoughts were zooming through his mind, but inexplicably, he couldn’t grasp a single one.

“I’ll stay and support the renovation gang,” Draco answered readily, convinced that physical action would help to ease his mind.

Harry nodded, accepting Draco’s decision at once. Then his hand stroked Draco’s face once, lightly, as if touching something fragile, looking up at him with that well-known, intent stare of his. Then, smiling oddly, Harry waved a farewell and was gone without another word.

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

After a few moments of unease, the ‘renovation gang’ worked together quite amiably. Whatever Neville couldn’t repair by magic, Draco and the twins tried to restore. As the hours went by, the ruin of the living room started to look again like a place where people would like to live.

Dragging out the remaining parts of the sofa, sweating profusely, certain phrases different people had stated at different times were occupying Draco’s mind.

Sometimes I think you don’t even know what love is.

Draco nodded. ‘So right you are, Harry,’ he retorted in his mind. ‘Actually, I believe I don’t have the slightest clue about anything called ’love’. I didn’t have many opportunities to learn about such things as feelings, you know? Feelings never had been valued high at Malfoy’s Manor; they ranked way down beneath power, status, and glory. And, of course, beneath honouring the family name.’

Dumping down an armrest upon the heap of broken furniture in the garden, Draco sneered. Oh, yes. Honouring the family name had been more important than anything else. He remembered all too well how lost he had felt when they had deprived him of his Wizarding status and thus taken away the right of his family name. Draco grinned quizzically. Stripped off of all rights and roots, they had abandoned him like an unwanted changeling on the doorstep of an unknown world. And he had been as unprepared and inept as a newborn baby.

Gritting his teeth, Draco walked back towards the house to fetch another useless item. Oh yes, he was sure; he definitely didn’t know what real love was.

Mummy loves her little dragon boy; she will take care of you.

‘I’m sorry, Mum, I really am,’ Draco answered in his mind at once. ‘When you stopped hugging me, I was convinced you didn’t like me any more. I was convinced it was because I was an unworthy offspring of the family, just like Father had said. I never comprehended that you stopped hugging me just because you loved me. For you, it was the only way to protect your dragon boy. I’m so sorry, Mummy; now that I understand, it’s too late to tell you.’

Draco threw an armful of wooden sofa parts down. It created a tremendous racket when they hit the heap of junk, but Draco didn’t notice.

For a long time he stood in front of the pile of junk, watching some of the smaller wooden chunks tremor slightly before tumbling down at last, filling in the gaps between the larger parts.

It was a fact he had to accept. It had taken him years, it had actually taken him until today to discover that his mother hadn’t betrayed him. She had taken care of him. And he had been too blind to see it.

She had rather let him go than risk her baby boy being severely hurt by Father.

Real love means being able to let loose.

His heart beating painfully against his chest, Draco kicked the pile of junk, hard. The heap swayed slowly from side to side; some of the parts trembled slightly and then tumbled down. But the cohesion of the pile Draco had built up didn’t give in.

Sudden comprehension had hit him like being struck by lightning.

Harry hadn’t only set him free today.

Harry had left Draco alone; free to go wherever he pleased to go.

You are officially put under my guard until Monday. I guaranteed for you.

Draco’s stomach cramped. He felt sick.

It’s up to you to decide.

The image of that odd expression on Harry’s face when he had left turned up in front of Draco’s mind. With absolute certainty Draco was sure that Harry had known all too well that Draco could walk out on him any time now. That silly fool, trusting him like that! Although Draco tried hard to sneer at such idiotic, mawkish, typical Gryffindorish behaviour, he couldn’t. Instead, his stomach cramped again.

He turned on his heels and fled towards the house to return with an especially bulky piece of refuse.

It was hard labour to pull the sofa’s backrest out into the garden. Gritting his teeth, he pulled harder. He wasn’t a wimp, was he?

I didn’t raise a sissy; what are you, a cry baby?

Draco barked a laugh. ‘I can reassure you, sir, you didn’t raise a sissy. You raised a tough man; I managed to survive. I‘m sure, you would have rather died than living on the way I did. But I want to live, even if it means living without a name. Even a ‘low’ life is worth living. I’m sure you never came to know what it’s like to watch the deep blue sky on a bright, sunny day, nor did you ever become aware of the beauty of thousands of sparkling stars at night. Plus I’m sure you never appreciated Mummy’s warm body next to yours, lying beside you in your bed night after night. - Did you ever notice her breath tickling your skin? Did you ever cuddle her in your arms, hold her tight, and be glad to just be with her? - But how could you, when power and influence were more important than silly, emotional distractions? Distractions such as joy, pleasure, even despair… I’m afraid, sir, that you did raise a cry baby after all. I’m so messed up that I could bawl at the slightest provocation. But, sir, I’m not ashamed, hear me? I’m not ashamed. At least crying means feeling something, and if you feel something, you are alive. So stop haunting me in my dreams.’

Consciously, Draco inhaled deeply. He almost smiled when he let out breath slowly again, relieved.

He was nearly done. There were just a few, minor broken pieces left to move out, and then they had enough space to start seriously renovating the living room. If they kept on working the way they did, Draco was confident they would be finished with the room in the evening, hopefully by the time Harry returned. Draco was sure the others felt the same; without a doubt they all wanted to prove to Harry that he could rely on them.

Draco started to hum a little tune.

The feeling of mild exhilaration didn’t leave him, even as an owl informed them that Harry would return back home late.

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

Totally exhausted, but thoroughly satisfied, Draco lay down on their bed on his stomach, resting his head on his crooked arms. They had made it. After hours of concentrated work, the living room looked like a homely place once more. Even the fire place was restored and in full order. Neville had already tested it successfully; the connection to the floo network was still intact.

They had pondered a long time over the furniture. Draco was relieved that Neville, after a few casual hints, had remembered the Completion Charm at last and had restored the sofa as well as the table from tiny pieces of the broken remains.

Finally, Gwenny had picked up some flowers in the garden which looked really nice in the vase Lance brought. Together, Gwenny and Draco had placed it solemnly upon the table.

They had finished their task, and they had been successful.

Grinning tiredly, Draco stretched his shoulders. He yawned heartedly, all too ready to drift off. He snuggled into the cushions, but although he was done in, sleep wouldn’t come. More than once, he shifted his position, trying to find a more comfortable one. But still, sleep wouldn’t come.

He wasn’t surprised.

He was waiting.

He would only fall asleep if he had his teddy… his Harry… his…

His eyelids trembled slightly, then closed.

As soon as Draco heard the shower running next door, he was wide awake again.

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

When Harry entered the bedroom, Draco experienced a strange feeling of deja vu. He tried his best to hide his awkwardness when he held up the sheets to let Harry creep under. Without a word he took Harry into his arms.

And when Harry put his head on Draco’s shoulder, Draco felt, for the first time today, that he could actually relax. His heart skipped a beat when Harry’s hand sneaked gently up under Draco’s T-shirt and started to stroke his bare chest.

“Thank you, Draco,” Harry’s voice was quiet. “The living room is simply beautiful.” He shifted and placed a soft kiss on Draco’s cheek. “Thank you,” Harry repeated with the same low tone, and without having to look at him, Draco knew Harry was smiling. Contentedly, Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder again, and his fingers consumed stroking Draco’s ribcage.

In return, Draco caressed Harry’s thick hair, and, after a hearty yawn, Harry moved closer to Draco. His body felt warm and inviting.

Draco hadn’t intended it; he hadn’t intended it at all. All he had wanted was to snuggle Harry in his arms, to hold him tight all through the night. He had anticipated listening as long as he could to the sound of Harry’s regular breathing, and to finally drift off to wake up in the morning, still holding Harry in his arms.

For tomorrow couldn’t be ignored any longer. Tomorrow was something real tonight. Tomorrow, Draco had to deal with the Wizengamot, and without a doubt, there would be a verdict. Given the severity of his offences, most likely he had to face several years in Azkaban or solitary confinement at the Ministry.

In other words: This night was probably the last night he would spend with Harry for a long time. And, as he was a realistic person, he had to realize it certainly would be the last night he would ever spend with Harry. There was no way to kid himself; Harry being a silly Gryffindor or not, nobody would wait for years. And even if they did, people changed.

So now was the moment to memorize what it was like to hold him in his arms, what it was like to feel his heart beating in the same rhythm as his own, what it was like to feel the warmth of his body spreading through his. Now was the moment to memorize how it felt to be loved unconditionally.

But he couldn’t concentrate, as hard as he tried. The gentle, constant touch of Harry’s hand on his chest made him forget all about memorizing. He hadn’t intended it; honestly, he hadn’t intended it at all. Maybe it was because his body didn’t know any better. Or maybe it was that he knew it was his last chance.

His traitorous body was pumping blood into his damn penis, and he couldn’t keep his tongue in control. Restlessly it flicked over his lips, longing to taste Harry’s skin.

Hoping it would help, Draco bit as hard on his lips as he could. He didn’t want a repetition of yesterday. He didn’t know how much it would cost him, but he wouldn’t react to Harry’s innocent touch, misinterpret it again, and force himself on him.

Harry’s hand moved down from Draco’s chest to his bellybutton, encircling it with his index finger, then caressing the few, almost nonexistent hairs that led down to Draco’s privates.

Draco’s hands cramped. Almost too late he realized he held the shock of Harry’s hair in one of them. With what was left of his self control, he forced himself to relax. Harry would fall asleep any second now anyhow, just like yesterday. He just had to wait.

Undeviating, Harry’s hand crept on downwards and grabbed demandingly for Draco’s hard member.

What? That--that simply couldn’t be!

Harry’s fist enclosed Draco’s penis in a tight hold. First he just pressed it hard, then he started to move his hand slowly up and down. Draco shuddered when Harry’s thumb glided occasionally over his glans, and his hips shot upwards involuntarily. Too late Draco noticed he had bitten into Harry’s shoulder.

The pressure of Harry’s hand on his member increased, as did the speed of his stroking movements. Draco hadn’t expected sexual contact, not tonight, not after what had happened yesterday. He had been prepared for gentle cuddling and soft touches; Harry’s active hand had caught him off guard. Panting audibly, his surprise was replaced by annoyance. This was their last night, right? It was supposed to be something special, right? At least that was what Draco had expected. But if Harry kept on like that, Draco was convinced he wouldn’t last very long.

Anyhow, if Harry provoked him to come this unceremoniously, Draco would try to make the most of it. He would give in to the demanding strokes; he would let Harry jerk him off if it was that what Harry wanted. But if Harry just wanted to use him tonight, Draco would act likewise. Draco shifted to his side determinedly, directing his tense hips at Harry’s stomach. Harry’s movements were driving him crazy; Draco felt he was close. His eyes fixated on Harry’s fast, wanking hand, imagining what it would look like when his semen splashed all over Harry’s T-shirt. If he shifted his position a little, he might be able to shoot right into Harry’s face. And if Harry then would lick some of the fluid off, it would be almost perfect.

“How long will I have to wait?” Harry’s low voice broke into his fantasies.

Precome protruded and wetted Draco’s glans; his hips jerked forwards. What was Harry talking about now? What was he waiting for? Did he want him to come faster, or did he just want to cuddle after all, like yesterday? Draco was unable to respond. All he could think about was the fast hand working his member and the prospect of seeing Harry’s face covered with milky fluid.

“Okay.“ Harry’s strangely hoarse voice went on, and his hand slowed its movements. “You’re right. You are the one who has been waiting patiently. But… you know, maybe it’s the last chance we have…”

The urge to scream was almost overwhelming; his penis itched, his loins ached, his body went rigid. Draco craved for Harry to stop talking and to continue stroking his member, damn; he wanted to come, he needed to give in and explode and jerk off. It was the only-bloody-last chance he had!

“Surely I deserve it,” Harry’s almost inaudible voice went on. His hand let go of Draco’s twitching member and gently glided over his thigh. Instinctively Draco grabbed for something, anything, and was glad his hand found a pillow to sink his fingers in; anything else would have been anatomized in his tense grip.

“It’s always you to start something, right?” Harry continued, his fingers massaging the muscles of Draco’s upper leg gently. “So I think it’s my turn now…” Harry swallowed audibly, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation.

Frustration nearly suffocated him. To hell with Potter. To hell with emotions. To hell with last chances.

He let go of Harry and tossed around to lie on his back. Yesterday had been bad enough. But this topped everything. He couldn’t cope with another setback; he just couldn’t. It was simply too much.

The urge to scream out his despair was irresistible. Draco rammed his fist against his mouth and gnawed his knuckles, hoping the pain would distract him. It only worked partly; he couldn’t help but let out a strained moan.

He was crazy about Harry. If he hadn’t known it before, he knew it now. He only needed a touch, one single touch of Harry’s hand, and Draco’s hormones went crazy. His mind went blank, all rationality gone. All he knew was that he wanted to live through one of those all-consuming orgasms again. One of those indescribable climaxes he had never reached before and never had wanted to reach before.

He’d been a dimwit to believe this night to have a special meaning. He’d been a fool to expect that Harry’s touches might lead to some unique experience, something to be memorized for a lifetime. Obviously, all that Harry cared for now was talking. To hell with Harry.

“…and believe me, it really feels like it.” Harry sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

Shit, he had missed what Harry had been saying. Why was he getting up? But did Draco really want to know? Still occupied by his frustration, he nevertheless inquired.

“Err--right. But I’m not certain I understood everything. Could you please repeat the last part? Just to make sure?”

Harry’s head tossed around, his eyes shining bright with fury.

“Do you think that’s funny?” Harry’s aggressive tone startled Draco. Observing Harry’s face closely, he noticed red, hectic blotches on his cheeks. Shit. What had he missed?

Harry turned around to face him, hands clenched to fists. “All right. So you try treating me like shit again? I told you it won’t work. You can’t scare me off. But,” Harry sneered, “if it makes you happy, you really got me now. Congrats.” He applauded with an expression of exaggerated respect. “Well done!” Harry gave him a thumps up, and Draco was shocked by the unmasked hurt he could see in the green eyes. What the hell had he missed?

“Sorry that I can’t repeat every word I’ve used, but I’ll try to give you a sufficient summary. I hope that’s okay?” Draco couldn’t bear meeting Harry’s stare any longer. Hastily he got up and sat beside Harry, careful not to come in physical contact with him.

“I said that I love you,” Harry spat out, and his voice was bare of emotion. “I said that it drives me crazy when you touch me. I said that although I’m optimistic I dread that this might be the last night we will have together. I said that although I’m scared stiff, I want to be yours tonight. I said that there’s nothing I wish more. I said I hope that you still want me. I said that right now it feels like I’ve never had sex before. I said that--oh---“

Unable to speak, Draco had slung his arms around Harry and hugged him as tight as he could. Immediately Harry struggled to free himself. “I said that--“

“Shut it!” Draco almost shouted.

“Forgive me,” he added quietly and let go of Harry.

For a long moment they sat unmoving, staring at each other.

Then Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Forget it.” Swiftly, he lay down on the bed and snuggled into the cushions. “Let’s get some sleep. We both need it.” He closed his eyes firmly.

Slowly, Draco crept into bed beside Harry. But he didn’t snuggle into the cushions, nor did he close his eyes. Instead he propped up his head on his crooked arm, watching Harry’s tense face closely. His heart was beating somewhere beneath his Adam’s apple.

“I’m sorry.” His words sounded strange in the silence. Even to his own ears his apology rang unnatural, so he wasn’t surprised that Harry didn’t react in any way. He had to try again. “I didn’t mean it that way. The truth is, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” Harry’s brow furrowed, and no wonder. Draco’s words had sounded strange again.

Draco was getting nervous. What else could he say? It took some time to notice that Harry was staring at him intently. “You are really sorry, aren’t you?” Harry’s eyes were soft.

“But of course I’m--“ Draco stopped, astonished. It was no wonder that his words had rung odd. Without doubt he had apologized a thousand of times in his life before, but he never had meant it as honestly as tonight.

Harry was watching him attentively. Draco had to say something. Presumably it was time to continue with the unaccustomed sincerity; it was time to speak the truth and nothing but the truth to avoid further misunderstanding, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t think of appropriate words.

Harry was still watching him, waiting. Draco felt choked with panic, suddenly convinced that this time he really had messed it up, once and for all. He tried again, but his mind was just blank. He couldn’t think of a single word to say.

Unexpectedly, Harry reached out and touched Draco’s cheek gently. “Relax. There’s no need to rush things. I can wait. One fine day, you’ll be ready, and until then, I will wait. But for tonight--“ Harry beamed up at him. “Tonight I’ve got to know if you still want me.”

If he wanted him? Silly question!

Draco nodded frantically.

In no time Harry had taken off his T-shirt and boxers, and Draco hurried to get undressed quickly, too. All too soon they were lying side by side again, facing each other, staring.

“Are you really sure?” Draco finally managed to ask.

“If you won’t mind me trembling, I am.” Harry winked at him.

“Want to know something?” Draco could at least confess to one fact. “I’m scared, too.”

“Shit.” Harry grinned broadly. “We definitely talked too much about it. Hurry up, kiss me.”

Draco slowly rolled on top of Harry, hesitant. “Listen, if it hurts or if--“

“I’ll scream at the top of my lungs. And if you don’t kiss me now, I’ll start rehearsing.”

“But you never--“

Harry reached out and pulled Draco’s head down by his hair, silencing him with a deep kiss.

As soon as Draco’s tongue met Harry’s, tension left him. He knew exactly how to caress the inside of Harry’s mouth, and soon Harry’s muscles, tight as stone, went limp under the weight of Draco’s body.

Harry’s response came immediately and unmistakably. His arms enclosed Draco’s shoulders passionately, and his legs entwined Draco’s hips.

Just for a moment, Draco didn’t know how to proceed.

Draco knew exactly where to finger his customers, where to stroke, and when to intensify his touch. He knew exactly how to fuck them, please them, and make them get off happily. Draco had been trained; he was an expert, and thanks to BJ, he had never had to really think much about it.

But…

Harry wasn’t a customer. Nor was Harry anybody to please.

Harry was… Harry.

Plus it was his first time.

Draco decided it would be wise to slow down his next actions.

His tongue stopped its hungry waltz; instead, he cupped Harry’s face in his hands and started to suck gently on Harry’s lips. Harry responded immediately to his caress; Draco relished Harry’s hands groping his hair, gently tugging at it. It didn’t take long for Harry’s legs to relax, and they glided slowly off Draco’s hips. Draco smiled happily when he heard the sound he had been waiting for. Harry’s contented sigh told him he could proceed.

After kissing him gently one last time, Draco got up slowly and kneeled between Harry’s legs, stroking the length of them cautiously. He was well aware of too huge eyes watching his every move.

Adoringly, Draco let his eyes run over Harry’s body. He was simply beautiful. Draco couldn’t get enough of the suntanned skin, the muscular shoulders, the firm chest, the flat stomach, and the gorgeous member dancing up and down eagerly.

Draco regretted having to leave the luscious sight to retrieve the jar of lubricant from the bedside drawer, even if it took only a few seconds. Draco’s hands shook slightly as he unscrewed the jar and got a huge amount of the lube out.

Did Harry notice Draco was as scared as he was, maybe even more? Draco had never been someone’s first before. And if he had been, he couldn’t have cared less. But tonight, Draco wanted to make it perfect. He wanted Harry to enjoy his first time; he wanted it to be an event he would never forget. And what’s more, he needed Harry to like it so much he would want it again and again and again.

Heart beating hard in his chest, Draco smeared the lube on his hands. When he was satisfied his hands were sticky, he laid his open palms on the inside of Harry’s thighs. Instantly Harry’s penis reacted; it shot up, then dangled up and down excitedly. Fascinated, he watched the moving member, and slowly massaged the sensitive insides of Harry’s legs, with every motion creeping nearer towards Harry’s loin. When he started to knead the soft skin of Harry’s groin, Draco was pleased to hear a low moan.

Cupping Harry’s balls with one hand, Draco’s other hand searched for and successfully grabbed a cushion to stuff under Harry’s backside. He smiled satisfied when he saw how eagerly Harry’s hips went up to help Draco position the cushion.

Draco couldn’t ignore Harry’s full erect member any longer, dancing in front of his eyes. He enclosed Harry’s balls with both of his hands and, with a longing moan, he took the swollen head into his mouth. Harry tasted like heaven; Draco couldn’t get enough of sucking and licking Harry’s glans, wanting, needing to get more of the shudders of the squirming body underneath him.

But Draco’s slick hands never forgot their goal. Distracting Harry by licking the length of his hard flesh, sucking his glans, and teasing his little slit with his tongue alternately, his glossy hands moved lower.

Draco couldn’t remember exactly when he had added more lubricant to his hands, but when he finally spread Harry’s cheeks apart, they were as sticky as from the start. Wider and wider his hands parted Harry’s cheeks, his thumbs stroking the insides cautiously, but determinedly. Harry’s hips rocked up and down constantly now; it was difficult to capture his twitching member with his mouth.

His thumbs pressing harder, Draco let his tongue wander down Harry’s shaft along the protruding vein, wetted the balls with his lips, then sucked them into his mouth with hunger.

Harry was no longer moaning softly. His breath came out in short gasps, his hips were thrashing up and down, and his fingers were digging deep into Draco’s shoulders.

Draco’s mouth released the swollen balls, and his tongue moved on, deeper, way down along the cleft until it found the little entrance, tightly shut. In spite of himself, Draco had to grin. So much for training with dildos.

He let his flat tongue run over the crack. Once, and again. And again, every now and then returning to the balls and the hard penis, but only to return to the little hole, licking and slurping, again and again. Additionally his slick fingers were stroking the sensitive insides of Harry’s cheeks, occasionally touching the quivering ring with one digit, rubbing it softly.

Harry was panting heavily; a quick look up into his almost desperate face assured Draco that now was the time. If he didn’t do it now, he never would.

Probingly, he let the tip of his tongue press through the tight ring. Astonishingly, it gave way, and Draco pushed his tongue in as gently as he could.

“Oh!”

Encouraged by Harry’s surprised but enthusiastic outcry, Draco pushed in deeper, still stroking Harry’s cheeks and thighs with his thumbs and fingers. Harry’s hips thrashed upwards more violently, and inconspicuously Draco coated the fingers of his right hand with more lube. Still letting his tongue glide in and out of Harry’s tiny hole, his index finger joined his tongue, playing around. Harry didn’t draw back when the tip of his finger pushed mildly in. On the contrary, Draco couldn’t feel any resistance. Confident, his finger probed in deeper. Harry’s inside felt so incredibly soft to his touch; Draco had to grab for his own member to wank it ferociously.

Not sure if Harry was ready to accept another finger, Draco let his tongue play around once more. But he shouldn’t have worried; Harry didn’t cramp when Draco added another digit. Instead he was meeting the rhythm of his demanding fingers with his hips. Nervously, Draco crooked his fingers slightly, and was rewarded by a deep groan.

Again Draco captured Harry’s penis in his mouth, sucking it with vigour, adding a third finger with ease, widening Harry’s entrance further. Harry’s hips stopped dead in their movement, and his anus closed tight around Draco’s digits in sudden shock, but after a heartbeat, Draco could feel Harry relax again. When Harry’s hips finally resumed their constant rhythm, Draco felt light-headed; his penis was ready to burst.

“Please…”

Draco couldn’t come now, oh Merlin, no, he had to last, he had-- What had that been?

“Please, Draco…”

Had he hurt him? Draco stopped in his movements, his fingers drew back, his heart stopped beating.

“Don’t make me wait any longer; I can’t stand it any longer, please…”

Swallowing hard, Draco scrambled to his knees. Looking down at Harry’s face, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Harry’s face was flushed, his incredible eyes were dark with need, need for him, and his mouth was partly open, his lips rosy from licking and nagging them constantly. There was no doubt that Harry was ready. With a moan Draco bent down and kissed Harry deeply.

At last, Harry would be his.

Heart beating far too fast, Draco adjusted the tip of his penis, prepared that the entrance was tight shut again. He pushed forward as gentle as he could. To his amazement, his hard member slid into Harry as if it had done it a hundred times before. Harry sighed and smiled up at him, and the expression of his eyes almost drove Draco insane.

Draco’s shoulders were grabbed violently again, and to Draco’s surprise, Harry’s hips started to move up and down. Hesitantly at first, but then more determined, and Draco pushed in and pulled out, and with each further confident thrust he got in deeper.

Plunging in, he stroked Harry’s face, pushed the sweaty fringe from Harry’s forehead, kissed Harry’s hot cheeks and his nose and his mouth and thrust faster and faster, amazed that it was happening, that it was really happening. Harry was his, he was really his, and it was incredible, it was so incredible Draco started to moan and sob at the same time, because Harry was his and Harry loved him, Draco knew that Harry loved him, he would always care and love him and never leave him and he was his, that amazing person was his.

Draco’s head was whirling; he couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to come; he had to push out his orgasm with a gigantic thrust, with a slam that impaled him as deep as possible. He wanted it, he needed it so badly, but something held him back, some inner voice, some certain knowledge commanded him he had to wait, he had to detain, he had to hold back until Harry was there. For it was Harry’s night, Harry’s first time, and he had to come first, despite the explosions in Draco’s head and his prick and his entire being. He had to wait until--

“Ohhhh!”

Harry’s shout was deafening; he shouted right into Draco’s ear. But that didn’t matter, nothing really mattered, for goosebumps burst out on Draco’s skin and he was there, too; he shot off and flooded Harry and grabbed his face and kissed him, held him as close as he could, and he was sure he could never let go of him; he had to hold onto him forever.

They lay still, both not able to move. An occasional shudder shook them, but they stayed on like that, Draco still inside of Harry, Harry’s arms still tightly around him. Draco didn’t want this moment to stop, ever.

After a long time, when their breathing had returned to normal again and their pores had stopped perspiring, they adjusted their position slightly, but only slightly, to get a bit more comfortable. But neither let go of the other; it seemed to be vital to be as close as possible.

It didn’t take long, and they drifted off into sleep with smiles on their exhausted faces.