A Dream For The Dead

A Dream For The Dead

Chapter 33

Just Two Men As God Made Us

No kiss had ever been like this one. All fire and teeth and tongues, this kiss was perfect in its raw imperfections. It was demanding and needy and undeniably urgent. It was desperate and hot. It was stupid.

Draco’s fingers carded through Potter’s hair before he fisted the black locks and angled his head further. His tongue plundered the Auror’s mouth, seeking out his every treasure and bounty. Draco sucked on Potter’s tongue and raked his teeth over Potter’s lower lip. He pinned Potter to the wall and pulled from him his every desire, his every drop of lust.

Potter moaned into the assault –because there was no better word for it, really –and his strong hands grasped roughly, almost painfully, at Draco’s hips and urged their bodies together. He bucked until their hips crashed and ground painfully against one another. The heat and lust that uncoiled inside of Draco’s body flared and raged within him when he felt Potter’s erection straining into his own.

Draco’s hands slid down the sides of Potter’s head until his palms rested against the man’s neck and he thumbed Potter’s jaw to give him better access. Draco shifted his body and slid one leg between Potter’s to urge them apart. The Auror complied and groaned as he began to rut against Draco’s thigh.

Potter’s hands clenched around him and then pushed beneath his robes to find his heated skin. Draco’s hands roved down Potter’s shoulders and arms, then around and to his arse. His long fingers kneaded there as he pulled Potter’s body into his.

Potter moaned again as Draco quickened the pace of his movements and pulled away from the kiss to press his lips to the Auror’s ear. He breathed and licked the shell before intimating his desires.

“Want you,” he growled, his voice husky and wanton. He arced and his erection pressed firmly into Potter for emphasis. “So much…”

“Draco…” Potter heaved, his hands suddenly stilling, his body tensing under Draco’s ministrations. Draco tried to ignore the sudden change and pressed his open mouth to Potter’s jugular before sucking on the skin. “I have to go.”

A spark of fear coursed through him and he pulled away, his heart beating agonizingly fast against his chest. His eyes raked over Potter’s appearance. He looked hot and lustful and absolutely debauched, though Draco had only just gotten started.

“What?” Draco breathed, despite himself. Potter bit his lower lip and his body heaved with every word and every second.

“I have to go… back to the pub,” he said, apparently unable to understand his motivations much better than Draco did. But Draco was afraid he understood them far too well. “I have to see… if everyone’s alright… Have to… check in.” Potter’s eyes were dark with lust but wide with fear. It was an incongruous match. “It’s my job.”

Draco released him suddenly and pulled away, putting as much distance between himself and Potter as possible. The cold air of the study flooded into his body and chilled him to the bone. He stood straighter and licked his lips briefly before dragging his fingers through his hair to set it right. He swallowed and the cold settled in his veins, infecting his blood.

Draco nodded and looked away, unable to face what he had just done, what he had just admitted and what he had just been told.

“Of course it is,” he bit out coldly, turning his back to Potter. He should have known. Draco felt the ground shake but tried to ignore it. He closed his eyes and tried to stop breathing.

“Draco…” Potter’s voice was still wanton but edged with a different kind of desperation too. Perhaps, the desperation for him to understand? Or was he desperate for Draco to forgive his rejection? He didn’t care.

“Go.” It was cold and clipped and left no room for discussion. Draco felt the air move as Potter did but then there was a moment of silence and nothing else.

“I will be back,” Potter informed him quietly. Then, before Draco could tell him that it would probably be best if he did not come back, there was a crack and Potter was gone.

Draco gnashed his teeth and tried for the bathroom but the world spun quickly and he felt himself thrown onto the chair. The ground opened up and threatened to swallow him whole, pulling on him with an unparalleled and unprecedented force.

He cried out and threw his head back as he felt everything drain from him.

His body was sore but still needy. His mind was reeling and his pride was hurt. He wanted Potter so badly, still. He wanted to taste him again because once was most certainly not enough. He wanted to feel Potter writhe beneath him and wanted to know what it was to be completely encased in the other man. He wanted it all but knew he couldn’t have it.

Not now.

Perhaps not ever.

Potter saved people for a living. It was practically a calling. There was no reason at all to think that his actions to protect Draco first and foremost were to do with anything other than his job.

And now that Draco was alone, away from alcohol and Potter’s presence, he knew it was a bad idea anyway. He knew that everything that had transpired to that point during that night had been a series of unnecessary mistakes.

He shouldn’t have been so candid and openly affectionate with Potter on the Quidditch pitch. Not with all the cameras and eyes taking in every subtle action. He shouldn’t have so openly taunted the Weasley bint, either. He most definitely shouldn’t have slipped in so many innuendos for Potter in public at the pub, while he was intoxicated.

He should also, most assuredly, not have molested Potter upon returning to his house.

I’m a fucking moron.

Draco dragged his hands over his face and tried to ignore the blood pulsing through his cock. He wanted desperately for Potter to come back and relieve him but knew that it was unlikely.

I will be back.

Potter’s words echoed dangerously in Draco’s head and he tried to shake them out. Even if Potter did return before daybreak, he probably wouldn’t want to resume their activities. He had probably only been a participant the first time as a result of his intoxication.

The moment Draco had told him how much he wanted him, Potter had spooked and fled. By the time he got back the haze would be gone and what happened between them would seem to be exactly what it was: a mistake.

Draco got to his feet and tried to fight the growing sense of dread and pain that grumbled within him. His chest tightened at the merest hint of a thought of Potter.

He went into his bathroom and turned on the taps to fill the tub. He sighed and divested himself quickly. Slipping into the water, he let his hand trail down and grasp his cock, wishing that he could just wank and be done with it.

But Draco knew that he could wank himself raw to thoughts of Potter now and still be hard as steel the moment Potter returned.

I’m doomed.

+++++

Harry stumbled into the wreckage of The Serpent’s Tooth. There was glass and splintered wood strewn about the place. Every so often there was a small trace of blood, but nothing to indicate any very serious injuries. Alcohol was splattered everywhere, dripping off the countertops and tables. Food was spread around the area as well, crushed under feet or stuck under overturned plates.

The pub was emptied of all its patrons. There was a small crowd of people gathered outside and there were Aurors and Hit Wizards marching about.

Harry made his way out, his wand in hand, his heart pounding for a reason completely unrelated to the possibility of danger. His bode screamed and protested his decision, demanding that he return to Draco immediately and make it up to him. Several times. In very interesting ways.

But Harry couldn’t do that. He hated himself and stayed put. There were too many reasons for his self-loathing to analyse, just then, so he settled for finding Boot.

The small crowd of people seemed to be made up mainly of patrons from the pub. Witnesses, Harry was sure. Several of their number were talking with Hit Wizards who were taking notes on their accounts of the evening.

Harry walked by them all and gazed around in search of Auror robes and more familiar faces.

The ground was littered with glass and wood, like the inside of the pub, but there was a significant amount of blood that had been missing inside. He bit his lip and tried not to think that someone had died while he was snogging Draco.

They hadn’t been kissing for that long, had they? Surely not long enough for someone to bleed or be beaten to death? If it had been the Killing Curse, after all, there would be no blood involved…

Harry stepped around the blood and saw a flash of Auror robes.

“Hey!” Harry called out. The Auror turned and Harry realized it was Boot. Harry rushed over to him. “What happened, Terry?”

Boot considered him for a moment, his eyebrows forming one straight and unforgiving line over his eyes hard eyes.

“I should probably ask you, Potter,” he said sharply. “Were you not here when it happened?”

Harry gritted his teeth and grimaced. He knew his reaction had been flawed. He had not immediately acted for the benefit of the innocent civilians, but instead acted for the benefit of one man alone. He had saved Draco but no one else.

“I was seeing to it that my charge was safe,” he explained shortly. “Because of the case he was my first priority. It was possible that whatever happened could have been meant to harm him specifically.”

Boot sighed heavily, as though he had been holding his breath for days. He drew a hand raggedly through his hair and nodded.

“Alright, Potter,” he informed him wearily. “You were right.”

Harry’s breath hitched and his blood ran cold. All thoughts of his decisions being biased went out the window. The brawl -or whatever it was -had been an attack on Draco? Or meant to be, anyway.

“What happened, then?” he asked again, this time more harshly. “Who were the people throwing curses? Did you catch all of them? Where are they now? Have any of them been interrogated?”

Boot’s eyes flashed and he raised his hands to calm Harry down.

“Whoa, calm down, Potter,” he informed him quietly. “We captured everyone throwing curses, I promise you.” He glanced to the side a moment, holding his breath and then he shook his head. “But that doesn’t do us any good at all.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He looked around the scene for a moment, taking in the detail before saying anything else to Boot. The stones of the alley were shining with blood and drink. He paled at the idea that the blood could have been Draco’s. He shuddered at the knowledge that he might have failed him, had he hesitated even a moment longer.

“Who were they?” Harry asked, chewing out every word. Boot pulled him aside so that they were alone and cast a Discretion ward around them.

“They were randoms, Potter,” Boot informed him seriously. Harry shook his head slightly to convey his confusion. Boot stared at him for a long moment. “They were all Imperiused, as far as we can tell.” Harry released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

“But there haven’t been any cases involving the Imperius curse since –” Harry started but Boot cut him off.

“Voldemort, I know,” his Head of Department agreed. “At least no reported cases. We can’t ever be sure, you know. But as soon as we appeared, the detainees in question all got blank faces and collapsed, stumbling about as though they had no idea what was happening.” He shook his head and Harry felt the urge to punch something grow within him. “We questioned them all, but they said they couldn’t remember anything about what they were doing or why they were in Diagon Alley. As far as I can tell, the only thing they have in common is that they were all present at the match tonight.” Harry’s eyes widened and he thought back to the match. “But even that is a weak link. None of them were sitting in the same section. None of them are related in any way. They’re randoms.”

Harry felt his heart thump harder and harder. His fists were clenched and his wand pressed painfully into his palm. He looked back out a the group of witnesses and the blood on the ground.

“Do you know what they were specifically sent to do?” Harry asked, wondering how this made sense. It was true that the Dementor’s Kiss was escalating in their attacks, what with the broom explosion and the possible kidnapping or involvement of Aurora… but this? This seemed too spontaneous.

“From the witness testimonies and the detection spells we’ve cast,” Boot explained slowly, his eyes flying over the scene just as Harry’s had done. “The intention seemed to maim or torture. None of the curses used were designed to kill. Only to cause serious permanent damage.” Boot paused and bit his cheek before confessing what he had clearly been thinking from the start. “This bastard is sick, Potter. He’s barking mad and hell-bent on getting Malfoy.” He turned back to Harry now, his face serious and worn. He had deep circles beneath his eyes and Harry wondered how and why. Boot had only been involved for a few hours. Harry had been invested in the case for weeks.

Draco had been invested in it for months, if not years. He was the only one entitled to look so worn and beaten.

“Do you need me to assign you help?” Boot asked Harry suddenly. Harry’s eyes flashed. Anger and betrayal chased themselves across his face and he frowned.

“Don’t think I can solve this?” he asked harshly. Boot glared at him and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be daft, Potter,” he snapped. “But this is getting to be very serious. The involvement of innocents, the use of the Imperius curse on a group to turn them into a willing army?” Boot shook his head. “No one could do this alone.”

Harry glared and turned back to the scene, refusing to face Boot directly. He tried to imagine Draco’s face if he told him that he would need to bring in more Aurors. He tried to imagine other Aurors treating Draco as an equal, not as a victim or a criminal. He couldn’t see that happening.

“Tell you what,” Harry said. “You have whoever you want investigate this attack. I’ll go on investigating the way I have been doing and you let me know what you find.” He turned back to Boot, then. “Officially, I want no one assigned to this case but me. I don’t trust anyone not to be involved or to muck it up.” Boot looked mildly offended and opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut him off. “No. Anyone could be involved, and even if they aren’t, there are too many people out there willing to let Malfoy suffer because they’ve got it into their heads that he’s a criminal.” Harry stepped away from him and back into the street. “This is my case.”

Then, he disapparated back to Draco’s study.

Harry stumbled in the dark, the ground spinning and sucking at him. He was unclear as to the reasons behind it but did not stop to think about it. He caught the back of the chair he often used and steadied himself, staring around the dark room. It was empty.

He paused and tried to stave off panic. He listened closely but there were no sounds in the house. None at all.

Harry’s heart raced and he clutched his wand, holding it out in front of him. He cast a number of spells on the wards and studied them, trying to figure out if Draco had left or if someone had breached them. He tried to stay calm as he read through the magic, hoping against all hope that the latter was true.

But what if he left? How would that be better?

Harry shoved the thought aside and found himself relieved when the wards informed him that no one had left nor entered. He waved his wand and the magic disappeared.

Harry stepped into the hall and glanced around. He wasn’t sure what to do now. What could he do? He needed to find Draco and make sure…

Make sure what? That he was alright? Surely Draco was not alright. He had come on to Harry and kissed him, professed his desire for him and Harry had told him he had to leave. Harry had run away, like a cowardly dog with his tail between his legs. He was revolted with the idea.

Of course Draco would not be alright. Regardless of whether Harry had to go back or not, he could have dealt with it better. Besides, his reasons for going were not as pure as he wanted to pretend they were.

“Harry Potter, sir?” The voice jolted Harry back to reality and he visibly jumped before realizing that it was only Inky. Harry grumbled and cursed himself for his lack of Auror-grade reflexes. The elf seemed somewhat fearful for his sanity. “Can Inky be helping with anything?”

Harry sighed heavily and tried to come back to himself. He pressed his fingers to his temple and took a deep breath.

“Yes, Inky,” he said quietly. “Do you know where Master Draco is?”

“Yes, sir,” Inky replied quietly. “Master Draco be sleeping in his bedroom, sir.” The elf paused. “Is Mister Harry Potter wanting Inky to wake him?”

Harry shook his head quickly.

“No, thank you, Inky,” he replied. “I’m just going to go check on him myself.”

Inky nodded and wandered off while Harry stood there, staring into the darkness, further cursing himself.

Of course Draco was sleeping. What had Harry expected? Draco to be waiting in the study, pleasantly drinking tea and perfectly content with the way things had devolved?

No. He went to sleep. He did not wait for Harry and Harry did not really blame him.

Harry would not have waited for himself.

Still, he wandered down the hall and stopped in front of Draco’s door. Harry stared at the wooden barrier and wondered if this was a good idea. What would seeing Draco asleep do for him? Would it prove that Draco was alright, that he wasn’t hurt by Harry’s sudden departure? Would it prove that Draco didn’t really care about Harry at all?

Or would it make Harry ache with the need to touch him again? So much so that Harry lost his nerve and ran once more?

Harry’s hand on the handle, turning it and pushing open the door seemed to make the decision for him. His body betrayed his common sense and he stepped over the threshold.

Harry’s eyes travelled to the bed without hesitation. The curtains were open, allowing the moonlight to penetrate the room and bathe everything in an eery blue glow. Draco was lying, his back to the door, his torso uncovered and naked. His pale hair shone in the light and Harry found he couldn’t breathe.

He padded quietly over and stood above the sleeping blond. His face was smooth and relaxed as he slept. His lips were slightly parted and Harry wanted to kiss them, to touch them and feel them and taste them.

Harry let his eyes travel down and realized that Draco was completely naked beneath the sheet. He smelled of soap and leaves. Harry realized that his hair was slightly damp and he must have bathed before getting into bed.

A single lock of Draco’s hair hung over his cheek and tickled his nose. Harry felt the irrepressible urge to move it. He reached out gently to brush it away but a hand shot up, lightning fast, and caught his wrist.

Draco rolled onto his back, his eyes sharp and perfectly awake as he looked up into Harry’s surprised face. His expression was stern but masked a world of hurt.

“Potter,” Draco said curtly. Harry’s heart sank. Draco did not release his wrist. “Come to finish your job?” His words were cutting and Harry shut his eyes, his eyebrows drawing together for a moment. “Ministry jobs don’t pay overtime, Potter. You aren’t required to work nights.”

Harry opened his eyes again and saw that, though Draco’s words were cold and sharp, his eyes were glassy and pained.

“I’m done working,” he whispered, unsure if his words would have any meaning. “I didn’t want to leave you before, Draco.”

The blond glared at him, his silver eyes narrow. Harry idly noticed that, even with the moonlight, Draco’s eyes had no light in them. He was sure his own were the same.

“Yes you did,” Draco told him, his grip tightening on Harry’s wrist. “You always have to save people, Potter. It’s what you do. Of course you wanted to leave.”

Harry frowned and shook his head.

“Know my thoughts better than I do, yeah?” Harry asked sharply before regretting it. Draco glared at him. He shook his head. “I do want to save people. That’s why I took this job, years ago. I should have wanted to rush back and help out, stop the attacks and arrest the culprits.” He paused and then knew why it was he hated himself. “But I didn’t. Not tonight. I didn’t want to go at all.” He closed his eyes and missed the slight change in Draco’s face. “I just wanted to stay with you.”

Draco’s fingers were pressing tightly around Harry’s wrist. Perhaps he intended to cut off circulation to his fingers entirely. Harry wasn’t sure.

“Then why did you go?” Draco demanded, still distrusting. “I’m sure that there were other Aurors on the scene within moments to save the day. I’m sure they didn’t need you there.” Like I needed you were the unspoken words that hung in the pregnant air. Harry swallowed.

“I left because I was...” he began hoarsely, all the moisture having left his mouth. “I was afraid.” It took everything in his power to look Draco in the eyes right then and not turn away. “I was afraid of wanting you more than wanting to save people, more than wanting to do what is right.”

Draco studied him quietly for a moment.

“If you don’t want to do what’s right, Potter,” Draco murmured eventually. “Then you are in the wrong line of work.”

Harry laughed softly because he had to, because it was the only way to pretend that he didn’t know that Draco was entirely right. It was the only way to ignore the fact that he was sure he was no longer in the right line of work.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry whispered. “Next time you need saving.”

Draco’s eyebrow arched and he slowly pulled Harry’s hand down, pressing the palm against the skin of his chest. Harry’s lips parted as Draco dragged Harry’s hand down his body, over the muscle and into the trail of blond hair below his navel. Draco’s eyes never left his and Harry’s fingers played in the trail of hair. The distance between them seemed to close inexplicably and suddenly Harry was kissing Draco again.

The blond’s tongue parted his lips and Harry was tasting him again. His body stirred and hardened and then, in one swift movement, Harry was dragged down, rolled and found himself pinned beneath Draco, sinking into the mattress. Harry blinked up and saw Draco looming over him, his hair hanging in a glowing halo around his face.

“Do you still want me that badly?” Draco whispered. The words travelled on the air and brushed over Harry’s skin, eliciting a breathy moan.

“Yes.”

+++++

Draco knew it would happen this way. He knew that he would take whatever excuse Potter gave him and pull him into bed. He knew that he would do it no matter how much he might hate himself for it, no matter how determined he was not to do it. Draco couldn’t help it.

Potter’s explanation had been more candid than Draco expected. He didn’t want to believe it at all but it felt true.

It didn’t matter anymore. He hovered over Potter and kissed him again, claiming the Auror’s mouth so that no one would ever be able to kiss him again. No one but Draco.

Draco had every intention of ruining Potter for the rest of the world in every way imaginable.

His hands moved deftly over Potter’s chest, unfastening the robes and pushing apart the cloth to reveal Potter’s hot, smooth skin. Draco’s fingers slipped beneath the material and trailed over every inch he could reach while Potter tried to shrug out of the sleeves. The blond’s fingertips found the little nubs of Potter’s nipples and tweaked them both at once.

The Auror gasped and when his mouth opened wider, Draco took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and taste every inch of his mouth. He pulled away, as his hands began their quest to touch every part of Potter’s body that they could, and stared down into those deep green, half-lidded eyes. Potter had made it out of his sleeves now and was lying, half-naked beneath Draco. He heaved and beckoned Draco back with his eyes but the blond smirked and kept the distance between them. He wanted to watch Potter come undone.

“Draco,” Potter breathed, reaching up to pull him back down. Draco saw something in the corner of his eye and caught Potter’s naked wrist again. He turned his head and studied Potter’s forearm.

There was an image there that he had not expected. On the inside of Potter’s forearm was a red and orange feather, tattooed into his skin. It must have been magical because it shimmered and flickered like flames when he twisted.

“What’s this?” Draco asked, suddenly mesmerized by the picture. Potter shifted beneath him.

“A tattoo,” he explained shortly. Draco frowned and caught his eye, demanding, silently, a better explanation. The Auror considered him, then flushed and fixed his gaze on his own tattoo. “There is a scar under the quill of the feather.” He hesitated a moment. “It’s from when Voldemort took my blood to return to power.” Anguish flickered briefly on Draco’s face but the sight of the feather somehow forced it away. “It never went away and I don’t know why. I got the tattoo to change the meaning of it. It’s a –”

“Phoenix feather,” Draco whispered, finishing the sentence for him. He ran a finger along the length of the feather and immediately wished he could run his tongue along it instead. It was then that he noticed something about the feather. It was in precisely the same place, on the same arm, as the Dark Mark was on Draco’s arm. Draco shut his eyes briefly. “What a pair we make: a Phoenix and a Death Eater.”

Draco turned his arm so that the black Mark was clear on his skin in the light. Potter’s eyes travelled from one tattoo to the next.

“Draco,” Potter whispered again.

“One who consumes Death,” he went on, ignoring Potter’s pleading tone. “One who is reborn of it.” He paused and considered Potter’s arm. Then he leaned in and licked the feather from tip to top. Potter shivered beneath him. “I don’t imagine you feel quite the same way about my tattoo.” He pressed his lips to the skin and turned to look at the Auror. “Does it matter to you?”

Potter stared at him for a moment and then slid his fingers into Draco’s hair and pulled him down into a kiss.

“Love is love,” he answered huskily. “Right, Draco?”

Draco froze against Potter’s lips, his eyes wide and staring into green irises that were far too close. Potter’s eyes were smiling though his mouth was not.

“Love is love,” Draco agreed after a moment. He began kissing Potter again, trying not to think about the possibility that Potter meant anything about actually loving Draco.

Potter moaned into his kiss and arched upwards to grind his erection into Draco’s. It was then that Draco realized that Potter was still wearing far too many clothes. He reached down with renewed urgency and tugged down the Auror’s robes and pants while Potter struggled to kick off his shoes.

Draco pulled back to rip away the offending garments. Once Potter was completely naked, the blond gazed down at him to take in every detail of his body. Draco kneeled between Potter’s legs and panted hungrily at the sight of the man beneath him. Potter was not conventionally attractive, really, but he was gorgeous to Draco.

Potter moaned softly and reached down to grasp his own cock. Draco jolted back to reality and forced his hand away. He would not accept Potter pleasuring himself. Draco leaned in, instead, and drew his tongue along Potter’s cock from base to tip as a form of punishment.

“Oh gods,” Potter breathed, bucking upward. Draco immediately wanted to taste his lover’s cock, to wrap his lips around it and suck him dry, but he wanted to do something else even more.

Draco tugged at a pillow and forced it under Potter’s arse while planting hot, wet kisses down the length of his shaft. He moved steadily downward and then laved his tongue over Potter’s sensitive sac.

“Merlin, Draco,” Potter groaned, unconsciously spreading his legs wider. Draco smirked and mouthed Potter’s balls while his hands grasped the Auror’s thighs and massaged them. Soon Draco angled his head and let his tongue trace a line down to the sensitive skin behind Potter’s balls and move steadily towards his entrance.

Potter moaned more loudly and more consistently, his hands reaching down and threading through Draco’s hair. The blond circled the hole with his tongue, carefully teasing the area, before –without warning –pushing his tongue inside. Potter’s muscles clenched and pulled him in as he penetrated Potter with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, Draco,” Potter cried out, his body jerking and writhing from the feeling. “Yes, oh gods, yes.”

Draco hummed and continued tongue-fucking Potter, absorbing as much of the taste as he could to commit it to memory. His hands were grasping Potter’s thighs so tightly that his nails were digging into the skin there.

“Draco, oh gods,” Potter was groaning, as he writhed. “Stop, stop, please.” Draco, confused, pulled away and looked up at him. His expression must have conveyed some of his confusion because Potter shook his head. “I won’t last. I… I want you…” but he couldn’t seem to finish.

Draco lifted himself suddenly and leaned closer, his lips brushed against Potter’s jaw as he spoke.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed. Potter reached around and grabbed him, perhaps to find purchase to keep him in the world, ground him in reality. “Tell me you want me to fuck you, Potter. Tell me you want my cock.”

“Harry,” Potter breathed in response. Draco was momentarily lost. “Call me Harry and I’ll tell you.”

Draco’s mouth split into a wide smile and then he pressed his lips to Potter’s ear and whispered.

“Harry.”

Potter moaned loudly and rutted up into Draco, their erections sliding together for a moment of bliss. Draco moaned because he had to and ground down to prolong the friction.

“I want you, Draco,” Po-- Harry answered breathlessly. “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock inside me, Draco.”

Draco growled and reached one arm out to the side of the bed. He murmured under his breath and caught a vial of liquid in his hand. He leaned back and uncorked the bottle before spilling some of the oily liquid onto his fingers. Then he reached down between Harry’s legs and probed at his entrance with one digit. It slid in relatively easily, which surprised Draco slightly.

He pushed in and out carefully but the Auror writhed more violently and cried out for more. Draco obliged and slid in another finger, penetrating smoothly before scissoring them and stretching him.

“Fuck, Draco, more,” Harry demanded, wriggling and trying to push himself down harder onto Draco’s fingers. “I want you now.”

Draco’s cock twitched, already painfully hard and leaking a steady stream of pre-cum. He brought their mouths together in a hungry, desperate kiss while he repositioned himself and coated his erection with lubricant. Harry’s hand found it’s way down to Draco’s cock and pulled him into place, urging him to get on with it.

Draco nudged the tip of his cock against Harry’s hole and groaned as he pushed slowly in. It was still almost unbearably tight around him. Harry spasmed and tensed beneath him, his hands now seeking purchase in Draco’s skin again, grasping him in an iron grip and pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco cried out when the Auror wrapped his legs around Draco’s hips and forced him in to the hilt. Draco had never fucked anyone so deep before. He felt all of his lover’s muscles working around him and moaned at the pressure.

“Move, Draco,” Harry demanded. Draco took a few steadying breaths and then glared at the man beneath him. He grabbed his lover’s hips and then pulled out almost completely before slamming back in and causing Harry to arch up and scream.

Draco was already panting and the ecstasy grew within his belly and spread throughout his limbs. He set a punishing rhythm and kept Potter from talking with kisses.

Draco fucked like he played Quidditch: with unwavering focus and commitment. Everything of himself went into seeking and giving pleasure. Harry screamed a steady call out to the ceiling whenever Draco gave him a moment to breathe. The blond kept one hand on Harry’s hip to steady himself and the other was wrapped around Harry’s shaft, pumping him unevenly.

Draco fought to keep his eyes open as he thrust into Harry. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes trained first on the Auror’s red and swollen mouth. He moaned and thrust in deeper, trying to alter the angles when he could.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Harry screamed as Draco hit his prostate again. He could hardly say anything else. Draco bit his lip hard as he watched Harry throw his head back and grasp at the sheets. Draco leaned down and pressed his mouth to Potter’s neck, much as he had hours earlier, and sucked hard on the skin, intent on leaving a vivid red spot behind.

Draco could hardly breathe anymore from the pace he had set and the blinding pleasure that was rocking his body. Harry was tight and burning hot all around him. Then, Draco pushed in deep and Harry’s body shuddered and tensed, clenching around him more tightly than before.

Potter called out a curse and Draco’s name as his climax tore through him, A thick jet of white liquid splattered both of their chests and then spilled down to coat Draco’s hand.

The blond could hardly last any longer and thrust in three more times before Potter’s heels dug deep into his spine and he tightened around Draco, milking his release.

Draco threw his head back and screamed, though he wasn’t sure what, and went completely blind from the force of it.

He tried to hold himself up but soon collapse, completely boneless on top of his lover. Harry groaned at the sudden weight on him and Draco tried his best to move, but could hardly manage to lift his head.

Harry made an intelligible noise and shifted so that Draco was only half on top of him, then brought one arm around and combed his fingers through Draco’s hair. He found his wand and waved it over them both to clean them. Then, he leaned in carefully and pressed his lips, feather-light, to Draco’s mouth before leaning back to sleep.

Draco knew, then, that though he had intended to ruin Harry for other people, Harry had inevitably ruined him as well.

Fuck.

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A/N: In retrospect, I could have cut this into two chapters... but I decided not to. Anywho, here you go. Hope you enjoyed that! Also, if Harry's behaviour as an Auror is questionable, there is a reason for that. It was touched on here, but more to come later. Harry is lost in his life. Important to keep that in mind :)

LOVE to my reviewers, who all keep me going. <3 <3 <3

On another note, I'm getting a grasp of the end here... not very soon, but not too long from now either. I can't guess at how many chapters unfortunately, but just decided to let you know. :)