Remembered Fire

REMEMBERED FIRE

Part Five

Draco wanted to crow with triumph as a hard arm came around him and lifted him against a muscular chest, and Harry ground their lips together, his tongue swirling skillfully around Draco’s. Immediately, Draco felt a surge of almost animalistic lust roll over his body, and he lifted the hand that wasn’t caressing Harry’s hard cock through his trousers to the back of his head, carding his long fingers through the slightly coarse black hair.

His hair felt the same, exactly the same, and Draco’s heart soared. His tongue tasted the same, and Draco sucked on it greedily. His body felt the same against his, more arousing than any body before or since, and Draco pressed into it, moving his other hand from Harry’s groin around to fill his palm with one globe of that hard arse. Harry’s hands lifted to the front of his shirt, and he felt the buttons down the front give. Cool air washed over his skin, making his nipples contract so swiftly and completely that is was almost painful. Snippets of his lost dreams flitted through his mind, increasing his desire, and he reached for the bottom of Harry’s jumper and pulled at it. They separated just long enough for Draco to drag the black wool over his head and throw it aside.

“Oh, my God,” he moaned, running his hands over the muscled wonder that was Harry’s chest, all smooth skin and coarse hair and molded hills and valleys. “Look at you.” His stomach was flat and strong, striated with bands of muscle, the slender trail of black hair that ran from his navel down beneath the waistband of his trousers too tempting to resist. Draco’s fingers went to the short curly hair even as he bent at the waist and swirled his tongue around one copper tinged nipple, and Harry’s hands sank into his hair, holding him in place, a soft groan lifting from his throat. Draco pulled the nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, then teased the resulting pebble with his teeth, and Harry hissed. Draco felt more than heard words muttered beneath his lips, and he gasped as a wave of magic washed over him, removing what was left of his clothing, and Harry’s. He felt his cock hard against his own belly, and he shuddered when Harry’s hand ran the length of his spine.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned against cool skin when Harry’s fingers slid down the crease between his arse cheeks, fingertips ghosting over the tightly furled entrance to his body. Harry’s hands came up beneath Draco’s arms and he lifted him with effortless strength, turning and easing him down onto the bed on his hands and knees. Draco glanced over his shoulder, seeing the intense look on Harry’s drawn face as he studied the round arse before him, then mapped the shape of it with his hands. Magic skirted over Draco’s skin, making him shiver, and he buried his face in the satin spread when he felt Harry’s breath against his balls.

Heat flowed over him in a slow, sensual wave when the hot breath was replaced with a skilled tongue, and Harry licked the swollen ridge behind the soft globes then sucked on first one, then the other, reaching between his slender legs to stroke his cock. Draco clutched the smooth fabric in his hands, his long toes curling when he felt Harry’s tongue travel along the swollen flesh behind them, and skim slickly around the clenched entrance to his body. He knew he was making small, desperate noises, but when he felt that firm tongue pressing forward, seeking entrance, he couldn’t help it. Moments later he was biting down hard on the satin when Harry’s tongue was in his arse, and Draco’s cock was in his hand.

“Oh, my God,” he moaned into the dark duvet. “Oh, sweet God.” Harry withdrew his tongue and Draco whimpered, but then gasped when a blunt tipped finger slid smoothly in to replace it. Almost instantly stars exploded behind Draco’s tightly closed eyelids when Harry unerringly caressed the knot of nerve endings that inspired a rare kind of madness. He knew he was mumbling incoherently, but he couldn’t control it. And then Harry’s finger was gone and his tongue was back, and Draco’s breath sawed out hard and he reached back, hand curling around Harry’s nape and then fisting in his thick hair. Harry sealed his mouth over him, thrust into him quickly with his tongue, and Draco thought that his heart might explode. When Harry finally pulled back, pressing a gentle kiss to one shivering arse cheek, then the other, Draco was a quivering mass of jangled nerve endings.

Harry sent his hands up the sides of Draco’s body, then he curled them around his slender ribcage and turned him gently onto his back. As he leaned over him, Draco stared, his eyes glassy and his heart pounding as Harry smoothly parted his thighs and knelt between them. Green eyes fell on the mottled ridge of scar tissue that transected Draco’s thigh, and he traced it with gentle fingers, his eyes dark.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, his voice slightly rough.

“Not right now,” Draco answered, reaching up to run his hands over Harry’s beautiful chest, and a slight smile pulled at the corner of Harry’s full lips. He caught one and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles softly.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his other hand dropping, sliding between Draco’s legs to give his rock hard cock a slow stroke before dropping lower, two fingers pressing, suddenly slick, then sliding inside his clinging heat. Draco’s neck arched as he pressed his head back into the bed, his own hands curling around Harry’s hard biceps and holding on tight.

“Yes, God, yes,” Draco answered, and Harry leaned forward to kiss him tenderly even as he pressed closer with his hips, lifting Draco’s unscarred thigh around his ribs. Draco felt the smooth head of Harry’s cock against him, and closed his eyes, concentrating on staying relaxed as Harry pressed forward.

It had been a long time. He’d had a few encounters, but a very few, and he’d never let anyone take him; not since Harry had last. Regardless of the preparation, he was tight and it stung. He bit his lower lip hard, trying not to cry out even as Harry moved slowly, gently, trying to allow his body to adjust. He moaned in spite of his resolve as the burning grew, and his teeth pierced his lip. He tasted blood in his mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asked gently, his hand spreading on Draco’s rigid stomach. He shook his head quickly but Harry still paused and leaned forward over his body to kiss him.

Draco felt Harry shudder convulsively beneath the hands spread on his back, and Draco’s eyes shot open and he looked up to find Harry’s screwed shut, a grimace on his handsome face. He skin looked white, and was slicked shiny with sweat.

“Harry, what is it? What’s the matter?”

Harry’s eyes opened, and Draco’s fingers dug convulsively into his arms when he saw that they seemed to be… faintly glowing. “There’s blood,” he answered hoarsely, his eyes avid on Draco’s face. “In your mouth, I tasted your blood.”

Draco caught his breath as Harry’s neck arched and his lips pulled back, and he watched in a combination of terror and arousal as Harry’s white canine teeth began to elongate before his eyes. Harry lowered his head and looked at him again, and the raw hunger Draco saw there sent a shaft of heat through him. Instantly, his tight muscles gave and Harry slid inside of him on a smooth glide, filling him so completely that Draco didn’t know where he ended and Harry began, and his cock throbbed between them. Almost unconsciously, his eyes still held by the glowing green ones above him, Draco’s hand drifted up his chest to his throat, and he began to peel the thick bandages away.

Harry caught his wrist, stilling the motion.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, even as his tongue traveled the length of his plump lower lip.

“I know that,” Draco answered, his voice thin. “I know that. I want to. I want you to.”

Harry released him and he pulled the bandage off and threw it aside, and watched as Harry’s eyes settled on the wounds at his throat, as his pupils dilated until the black nearly eclipsed the green. Harry reached between them and curled his cool hand around Draco’s hardness and began to stroke him even as he lowered himself over him, and Draco felt the moistness of his breath against his throat as he stared up at the black velvet canopy. He couldn’t help it; he stiffened, fingers digging in to hard muscle, and Harry kissed his neck gently before lifting his lips to press them to his ear.

“Relax,” he breathed, his nose nuzzling Draco’s hair. Draco’s hands loosened slightly on his arms. “I’m told it only stings for a moment. And then… then it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.”

Draco tried to regulate his breathing and nodded jerkily, closing his eyes when he felt Harry’s lips slide back down his jugular. He knew that Harry had to be able to feel his heart pounding; he felt those cool lips brush his throat again, then felt the rough silk of Harry’s tongue as he drew it over the wounds that Gautlier had left earlier. Instantly, something ignited low in Draco’s belly, and his mouth fell open as he felt the stiffness in his muscles flow out of his body.

“Oh.“ He sighed. “Oh, yes…”

Harry’s hand moved between them as he began to move in shallow thrusts. Draco gasped again, astonished that he’d actually managed to forget, even for a moment, that he had a hard cock up his arse. But as Harry moved, and it drew over his prostate with each slow drag, pleasure rippled up his spine and fingers curled again into Harry’s arms. He felt Harry’s mouth open further on his throat, felt him sucking against his skin, and he damped his own lips with his tongue. Oh, this… this was… there were no words for how this felt…

He was swimming in an ocean of bliss, waves of sensation crashing over him. Coherency was gone, his sentience minimized almost out of existence. Left in its place was a creature of enflamed needs and raw nerve endings that writhed and sobbed, given more pleasure than one body could hold, in danger of over-dosing on ecstasy. When the sting came, it was so minor that he scarcely noticed it, but when Harry drew against his flesh and drank of him, he felt it intensely. The drawing feeling flowed from his neck, down his chest to his cock which began to weep pre-come, to the dark, needy place that tightened around Harry’s incursion and rippled along his length. He’d never felt anything like it; the almost painful pleasure that went on, and on, rolling in ripples over his skin. The fact that his lover was actually feeding from him, taking sustenance from him was nearly as erotic as the slow love that was being made to him, and his fingers lifted and curled in Harry’s hair as he lingered in a state of near orgasm that was as pervasive as it was maddening. It went on and on as he hovered at the knife edge of explosion, and he was weeping in agonized delight when Harry finally drew his tongue over the freshly opened wounds, then turned his head and kissed Draco tenderly, almost chastely on the lips. When he lifted his head, Draco looked up through pleasure glazed eyes to see Harry watching him gently.

“Come, Draco,” he ordered, thrusting into him emphatically, and with a relieved cry, Draco did, his cock throbbing as pearly streams erupted from his body, painting his chest and his abs, dotting his neck and the underside of his chin. Every muscle in his body locked down, bulging with the force of his orgasm as he shook and sobbed. The release seemed to go on and on as Harry pounded into him, and when he felt the shudder that shook Harry’s body and the warm wash of his spill filling him, his cock pulsed and jerked and shot between them once again before Draco sagged limply and slipped into darkness.

When Draco woke again, it was much as it had been before. He lay in the center of the big, soft bed, encompassed in warmth, but with the new limp lassitude that comes from having a soul draining orgasm. He sighed in satisfaction, then opened his eyes, searching for Harry. When he found the bed beside him empty, he frowned and pushed himself up on his elbows, searching.

Across the large room the black velvet drapes had been pulled aside, and a set of French doors had been opened. Moonlight poured into the room, shining on the hardwood floor, revealing a wide balcony outside of the doors. Standing at an ornate railing with his broad back to the doors, naked in the glow of the full moon, Harry looked like something carved of marble, all strong lines and solid muscle. His hair was the only thing about him that wasn’t streamlined and elegant, and it stood up in messy black spikes around his head, causing Draco’s heart to lurch with tenderness. He slipped out of the bed, wincing a bit as muscles long unused reminded him that he wasn’t twenty-nine, but he ignored them and padded barefoot and as naked as Harry across the room.

He slipped out through the doors and up behind him, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist and resting his chin on his solid shoulder. Harry didn’t respond with surprise, just curved his hands over Draco’s and gripped them, then leaned back into him with a soft sigh.

They stared out at the view, and Draco murmured softly in appreciation. They were standing on a second floor balcony of what looked to be a very large country house, staring over a large sloping lawn towards a slowly moving river. There was a full moon, and the water glittered with its light, and there was a line of old growth trees along the bank, their branches swathed in Spanish moss.

“How beautiful,” Draco said softly, watching the moss shift in the slight breeze. It was a little cool, and he pressed himself against Harry’s back. “Where are we?”

“It’s called Ashton Hall,” Harry answered, and his voice vibrated through his back and against Draco’s chest. “About fifteen miles outside of Charleston. It was built in the late seventeen hundreds, and it’s never been wired for electricity or fitted for plumbing.” He shrugged. “Which really doesn’t matter much to a wizard. It’s on the national registry of historical sights, and they used to do tours.” Draco heard the smile in his voice. “That is until it got the unfortunate reputation for being extremely haunted.”

Now Draco smiled. “Your doing?”

“Of course.” Harry shrugged. “I like it. It has an old world charm. I put a glamour on it, and most folks stay away.”

“Most folks?”

“Oh, we get the occasional intrepid ‘ghost hunter’. We give them a nice show, and they go away happy.”

“We?” Draco asked a bit more sharply than he’d meant to, and Harry chuckled, turning, taking him in his arms.

“Jealous?” he asked, one black brow arching.

“Extraordinarily,” Draco answered, pressing in to kiss him softly, then leaning back to study him once again. “Don’t you live alone?”

Harry smiled slowly. “Actually, I have a man-servant.”

It was Draco’s turn to arch a brow. “Oh, really.”

“His name is Michael,” Harry said imperturbably. “He’s a muggle-born, very charming, has infinitely better taste in clothing than I do,” he paused, grinning when Draco’s mouth turned down at the corners, “and I believe he turned eighty-two on his last birthday.”

“Oh,” Draco said, mollified. “Well, unless he’s a startlingly handsome eighty-two, I guess that’s all right.”

Harry smiled and kissed him again, this time lingering over it a bit. When he pulled back, he reached up and pushed Draco’s long fringe back from his eyes. “Michael takes care of me, Draco. That’s all. I saved his granddaughter from Gaultier nearly five years ago, and he feels he owes me. And during the day, when I sleep, I’m… somewhat vulnerable. He’s a fair cook, and decent company, and I’m grateful that he’s willing to put up with my unavoidable eccentricities. He’s very kind, but he’s just my friend.”

“Harry, I was teasing,” he assured him, but secretly he was glad that the man was someone’s grandfather.

“No you weren’t,” Harry countered, green eyes soft. “But I like that you’re territorial. I want you to feel that way, because I don’t believe I’ve ever had that sense of belonging to anyone quite like I did with you.”

Draco reached up then and cupped the hard cheek in one hand, index finger drifting across the sharp angle of a chiseled cheek bone. “I love you,” he said simply and Harry studied his face carefully before turning his lips into Draco’s palm.

“I know that you do,” he murmured against the pale skin, then kissed it lingeringly. “I love you, too.” Draco’s fingers curled reflexively and he felt a stirring at his groin when Harry’s tongue leisurely traced his lifeline. He felt a responding twitch in the cock that was pressed against his thigh. “But,” Harry lifted his eyes back to Draco’s, “we need to talk.”

“I know,” Draco answered, reaching between then to curl his hand around the rapidly filling erection, stroking it slowly as he leaned forward and kissed Harry’s neck. Harry allowed his head to drop back on a soft sigh as Draco mapped his throat with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. “We do not, however,” he whispered against Harry’s ear, his tongue tracing the cool shell, “need to talk right now.”

“Soon,” Harry said, even as he swallowed heavily.

“Yes, soon,” Draco agreed, knowing that it was true. “But right now--” the strokes on the cock now filling his hand grew firmer, “--I want you again.”

“Is that so?” he heard the smile in Harry’s voice, and turned his head to kiss it from his lips. This kiss was long and slow, leisurely, open mouthed, tongues tangling lazily, Draco tracing the now even front teeth with the tip of his. To know that the incisors would only descend when Harry had need of them was both reassuring, and incredibly sexy. When their lips parted, Harry sent Draco an enigmatic look, then with that startling strength that made Draco breathless, bent and simply swung him up in his arms, carrying him back to the wide bed.

“Well,” Draco gasped as Harry settled him against the sheets and then leaned over him. “I haven’t been swept off of my feet in a very long time.”

Harry grinned down at him, eyes alight with love and humor. “Get used to it.”

Draco’s hand slipped around his neck and his fingertips teased the curls at Harry’s nape. “I can do that.”

They exchanged a playful look before Harry’s lips were descending to his neck once again. He slid his nose along Draco’s jugular, then his tongue under his chin.

And as he stared up into the underside of the black canopy and the slow, sweet fire began to build once again in his blood, Draco knew that there was still much to be discussed, but he’d already made up his mind. He loved his mother, and he adored his son, but the man in his arms was the other half to his soul, and he’d never voluntarily give that up again. His family need never know the whole truth, only that he’d found someone that he loved to distraction. Those details could be worked out later. But to have the chance to have this, this tender inferno, for eternity? What man could resist such temptation?

He knew that Harry would fight him on it, wouldn’t believe that he really meant it, but Draco knew that with loving persuasion he could convince him. And he had every intention of doing just that.