Dragon Hunt

Harry held his breath as he heard his mate swearing, seeing some commotion through the tent flap, but he kept his hand on the egg. He tensed when the flap pushed fully open, preparing himself to fight, but Draco stood before him looking miffed, but unharmed. “Bloody bird!” he complained, pushing a snowy white owl towards his mate. The bird squawked a complaint at the treatment, but landed on Harry’s shoulder, hooting happily and nipping his ear with her beak. “Do you remember that brat, love?” Draco spat.

Harry raised a hand, brushing his fingers over the soft white feathers. “Vaguely.”

“Hedwig is her name and she’s as loyal to you as a puppy,” Draco complained. “Came bearing this,” he added, pressing a folded sheet of paper into Draco’s hand. He then appeased the bird with a bite of cheese.

Harry sat in the chair beside the bed, unfolding the piece of paper. Draco watched as the snowy bird jumped over to the bed, settling beside the egg, one wing laying over it, covering it from view as if protecting it. “Ugh,” he complained, throwing his arms up as he settled on the floor in front of Harry. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s from Hermione. You said she was my friend?”

“One of your two best, other than myself of course. She’s to be godmother to Leo.” Draco laughed. “It feels odd having a name for him. Feels very real.”

“She says that she understands our flight and . . . She lists a bunch of names I’m sure you’ll explain to me later. She says they’re all working to make things safe for our return. She also says it’s difficult to keep Ron—“

“Your other best friend,” Draco injected.

Harry nodded. “She says it’s difficult to keep him calm and that he keeps cursing you to hell.”

“Typical,” Draco scoffed. At Harry’s confused and hurt look, he explained. “Ron and I get on all right, but he is fiercely protective of you and doesn’t always trust that I will do what’s best for you when you can’t decide on what is best for yourself. Probably thinks I got you locked away somewhere denying you medical treatment and having sex with your unconscious body.” Harry looked absolutely alarmed. “He over reacts and has a wild imagination,” Draco drawled.

Harry laughed. “Well, we are locked away having sex quite regularly, but I’m conscious and somehow we have managed to heal ourselves quite nicely.”

“True,” Draco nodded. “Now, we need a plan.”

“Plan?”

“We have Hedwig, who will bring us the newspaper. If we don’t go back as soon as they consider it safe, the Order will surely track us because of worry. And I will not feel safe until your memory is fully returned. So, we need to jog it,” Draco said simply. Harry nodded agreement. Draco sat up on his knees, taking the letter from Harry’s hands and dropping it to the floor. He ran his hands up his mate’s thighs, smiling mischievously. Harry sighed when Draco’s thumbs extended to brush his hardening erection through the thin sleep pants. “And the best way I can see to start is to have you remember what it feels like to have me inside you.” He leaned forward, kissing Harry’s abdomen.

His fingers curled around the waistband of the pants, pulling them down. “Lift up,” he commanded gently. Harry did as he was told, allowing Draco to pull the pants past his hip and thighs. He shifted his weight again to lift his feet so that Draco could remove them completely.

Draco wasted no time, leaning forward again, brushing Harry’s erection with his cheek as he took in Harry’s scent deeply. “You smell so good.”

Harry gulped. “What are the details of the plan?” he asked shakily.

“Secret,” Draco said shortly. Harry groaned. “Well, there are two details I will share,” Draco said, accenting his words with a quick lick over the head of Harry’s penis. “One: I won’t torture you with tying you up. I’ll let you touch me as much as you wish.” Harry was grateful as his hands had already sunk into the silky blond locks and he didn’t ever want to let go. “And two: if you try to distract me with another mid-sex interrogation, I will gag you,” he teased. “I don’t want to gag you. You sound to delectable when you lose yourself.”

He didn’t pause a moment longer and swallowed Harry to the root. “Guh!” Harry called out incoherently at the sudden pressure. His grip tightened in the soft strands, moving Draco’s head in a pleasing rhythm. He could hear and feel his mate’s purr, making everything more intense. “Draco!” he called. It was quickly becoming too much.

Draco held tightly to Harry’s hips, pushing them into the chair, trying to keep his mate from choking him. He eased, up, letting Harry slide from his mouth when he needed air, sliding one hand up to continue the rhythm on that beautiful piece of flesh. “Did you have anything you wanted to add to the plan?” he teased.

Harry groaned at a particularly hard stroke from his mate. “Just don’t stop until—“

“Until what, love?” Draco asked, releasing Harry’s dick completely, gripping his hips again.

“Uhh,” Harry whined. “Until—“ He was cut off when Draco tugged him closed, sliding him down in the chair.

“Until you’re completely satisfied?” Draco offered, licking up the underside of his mate’s penis.

“Until you are!” Harry shouted. “Let me be everything you want!”

Draco froze at the words: they were desperate, needy. His mate was desperate and needy, not only for physical sensation, but for— “Harry?” he asked quietly, his voice no longer sexually charged. “Look at me,” he prompted. Slowly, Harry unscrunched his eyes and looked down at his mate. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Harry echoed effortlessly. He watched Draco duck lower and realized why his mate had almost tugged him off the chair when he felt tongue along his crevice. His legs were being pushed up, spread wide, hooked over the arms of the chair. He let out another unintelligible cry when that insistent tongue had breeched him. Harry shuttered when Draco’s tongue poked at that spot inside him he was sure only Draco had ever touched. He released Draco’s hair, forced to grip the chair to keep himself steady.

He groaned when the tongue left him, replaced immediately with fingers. Draco licked up, caressing Harry’s balls with his tongue before moving back to the piece of flesh that had been his original focus. Again he swallowed Harry and Harry was lost to the duel sensations. Draco felt Harry tighten around his fingers, his ass twitching, at the same moment he tasted his mate’s come. He pulled back, only move up Harry’s body, kissing him deeply and letting him taste himself.

“Please,” Harry complained. “I want you inside me,” he sighed, gripping Draco’s hair again and kissing him. His hand slid down, tracing the scars. Draco could smell the change in his mate’s mood. When Harry opened his mouth for what was sure to be another unneeded apology, Draco stopped it with a kiss.

“I love my scars,” he said when he pulled away. “They remind me that I protected you as best I could.” Harry looked confused and sad. “We’re partners, you and I. I will protect you with my very life. It’s a two way street.” Harry nodded in understanding and allowed Draco to tug his legs down off the arms of the chair, forcing him to slide onto the floor.

“Now,” Draco said with a smile. “I believe your part of the plan demanded my complete satisfaction.” Harry nodded, seeing his mate’s hand trailing down towards his as of yet untouched erection. Harry’s hand moved to follow, but Draco slapped it away. “No, it won’t be that easy. I intend to fuck you until you can’t walk,” he added with a teasing smile.

Harry groaned at the words and nodded enthusiastically. Draco turned him around, forcing him onto his knees, legs spread, his upper body spread across the chair he’d recently vacated. He could feel Draco’s hands working up his spine, massaging the muscles firmly. “You ready?”

The brunette knew that he should probably have been stretched further, been lubed up more than the tongue had done, but he nodded, not wanting to wait. Draco smiled at his enthusiastic lover, knowing that Harry wasn’t as ready as he was claiming, but he didn’t want to wait either. With one hand he grabbed for the sandalwood and lavender bath oil he’d stashed under the chair and lubed himself up before sliding into Harry smoothly.

“Dragon!” Harry shouted, relishing the feel of his mate inside him, filling him, stretching him beyond what he’d been ready for. A flash of a memory burst into his head: him bent over a bed naked, Draco pounding into him, fully clothed and dressed primly. It had to be real. “Feels so—“

He didn’t get to finish as Draco began to move, ramming into him forcefully, pressing that button within him as if it were off switch to his control over his entire body. He was shuttering with need. His forgotten cock rubbed against the rough upholstery with each of Draco’s strokes. “Do you—know what—would sat—isfy—me most?” Draco asked as he pumped roughly into Harry.

“Mmm?” was all Harry could manage. Harry emitted a veritable symphony on whines and sighs, moans and groans. Already he could see stars in the corned of his vision.

Draco slammed in, deeper and harder than ever before, pressing against Harry’s prostate and holding himself there. “Milking you completely dry,” he said, tugging on his own balls to hold off his completion while Harry emptied himself onto the chair. When he’d gotten control of himself, Draco began pumping again, the body beneath him relaxed completely but for the occasional tremor. He reached around, using the spent come to ease the friction as he stroked the already tender and oversensitive flesh back to life.

“Gods, Draco,” Harry groaned, coming back to himself. “I—“ He couldn’t form words. Draco released his member, leaving it to the friction of the chair again. Draco leaned, nipping and biting at the soft, tan skin. Harry began shaking, sobbing from the intensity. By god, was this still real? “Ahh!” he cried weakly. The shaking became tenser and tenser. Draco could see Harry’s knuckles turning white as the gripped the fabric of the chair. The shaking got stronger, the grip got stronger.

Draco was startled when the chair tumbled over. Harry tossed it to the side and as another orgasm hit, he screamed his completion. Again, Draco froze save for heavy panting, fighting to maintain his own control. Harry was bent forward, collapsed on his elbows, barely able to hold himself up, his knees shaking. “Uhh,” he whined, struggling to—he didn’t even know.

Quickly, Draco grabbed the cushion from the overturned chair, shoving it beneath Harry so that as he collapsed, his ass still remained in the air slightly, though it forced him to change his own position, practically laying on Harry’s back. “Still with me?” he whispered in Harry’s ear.

“Uhh,” was all Harry seemed to manage. “Dray.” Draco smiled, knowing his mate was completely spent and barely retaining his consciousness. He himself was at the edge he would not be able to keep from falling over.

“Harry!” he screamed when he finally fell, clenching onto his mate beneath him, knowing Harry would have new round of bruises to contend with. And as he held on, unloading the last of himself deep within his mate, his bit into the soft flesh of where neck met shoulder beneath him.