Don't Get Caught
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,796
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,796
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Time for Action
Harry’s chest apparently makes a comfy cushion for Scorpius’ graceful head. His deep, even breaths are those of a person without a care in the world. Harry gently tangles his fingers in the sleek blond hair, regretful that he must wake the boy and send him back to his own bed. Already he has let him stay far longer than is wise given the circumstances, but Harry is weak when it comes to refusing Scorpius something he wants, and he has made it patently clear that he wants Harry.
Harry’s desire is yet stronger. It isn’t just the primitive urge to lose himself in Scorpius’ high-pitched cries as his cock is sheathed in unbelievably tight heat, because an action as simple as stroking the boy’s cheek affects Harry with similar sentiments, ones he fears may be too powerful to ignore for much longer.
As tremendously relieved as Harry is to have Scorpius back in his arms, he knows he must make a choice, and make it soon. Things cannot continue as they did before; Draco is now fully aware of Harry’s relationship with his son, and has already proved the lengths to which he is prepared to go in keeping them apart. But during that time apart, Harry came to realise just how deeply he has fallen for Scorpius, and after the shocking knowledge the young Slytherin seemed prepared to ignore, Harry is convinced Scorpius feels the same. Part of him doesn’t want to show Scorpius his memories of what happened in the study that dreadful night, because it will destroy the boy’s relationship with his father, but better that than obliterating what they have together; after all, Draco brought this on himself.
The boy stirs against his torso, stretching and wrapping an arm tighter around Harry’s waist. He murmurs sleepily, nothing intelligible but it makes Harry smile anyway. He could get used to this, could get used to falling asleep with Scorpius beside him, could happily become familiar with waking up to find hungry grey eyes watching him. Harry thinks about all he stands to lose in place of that perfect scenario.
His career as a teacher, the respect of his peers, his children, the tarnishing of his reputation and quite possibly the loss of his freedom. The list is endless, but what frightens Harry most of all, is that he doesn’t actually care and he knows, he knows he should.
As Scorpius’ warm, lethargic hand caresses his thigh, Harry tells himself he doesn’t need to earn a salary from teaching anyway. When the boy’s fingers comb through the wiry hair cushioning the base of his cock, Harry shrugs off the notion that he will care what his colleagues think, for without a tenure he won’t have any to pass judgment on him. While Scorpius gently cups his balls and rubs a thumb along the underside of his stiffening length, Harry convinces himself the children will come round, given time. He doesn’t even bother to apply rational thought to the defamation of his public image when Scorpius’ sleep-mused head disappears under the covers, the talented young mouth making obscenely loud sucking noises as it works around the weeping head of his cock. And as for his liberty; Harry cries out and thrusts his hips, fucking the boy’s throat faster and faster until his orgasm and insanity spill over; one kiss from Scorpius would be worth suffering a thousand from the Dementors.
Harry’s fingers weave into the boy’s hair, tugging it gently and guiding him back up so he can lick the swollen lips clean. Scorpius presses his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. He is lost in thought and seemingly uninterested in achieving his own satisfaction. Harry tilts the boy’s chin up, always stunned anew by the power those eyes possess to make his breath catch. Scorpius quietly confesses he wants more, needs more than this; that snatching a few minutes here and there like they have been for months now isn’t enough anymore. Harry smiles and kisses the pale hairline, murmuring his agreement. Very carefully, he suggests that were he not a teacher, and should they initiate a bond, no one and nothing could ever divide them again. Harry is surprised but elated at Scorpius’ vehement agreement, pulling him tightly into a hug and kissing the length of Harry’s jaw. Somehow, now the decision is made, Harry doesn’t feel quite so nervous about the future. There is Draco to deal with, of course, but for Scorpius’ sake, Harry is prepared to allow the older Malfoy a hand in his own fate. Whether he chooses to grab it or let it slip through his fingers, remains to be seen.
***
Harry’s desire is yet stronger. It isn’t just the primitive urge to lose himself in Scorpius’ high-pitched cries as his cock is sheathed in unbelievably tight heat, because an action as simple as stroking the boy’s cheek affects Harry with similar sentiments, ones he fears may be too powerful to ignore for much longer.
As tremendously relieved as Harry is to have Scorpius back in his arms, he knows he must make a choice, and make it soon. Things cannot continue as they did before; Draco is now fully aware of Harry’s relationship with his son, and has already proved the lengths to which he is prepared to go in keeping them apart. But during that time apart, Harry came to realise just how deeply he has fallen for Scorpius, and after the shocking knowledge the young Slytherin seemed prepared to ignore, Harry is convinced Scorpius feels the same. Part of him doesn’t want to show Scorpius his memories of what happened in the study that dreadful night, because it will destroy the boy’s relationship with his father, but better that than obliterating what they have together; after all, Draco brought this on himself.
The boy stirs against his torso, stretching and wrapping an arm tighter around Harry’s waist. He murmurs sleepily, nothing intelligible but it makes Harry smile anyway. He could get used to this, could get used to falling asleep with Scorpius beside him, could happily become familiar with waking up to find hungry grey eyes watching him. Harry thinks about all he stands to lose in place of that perfect scenario.
His career as a teacher, the respect of his peers, his children, the tarnishing of his reputation and quite possibly the loss of his freedom. The list is endless, but what frightens Harry most of all, is that he doesn’t actually care and he knows, he knows he should.
As Scorpius’ warm, lethargic hand caresses his thigh, Harry tells himself he doesn’t need to earn a salary from teaching anyway. When the boy’s fingers comb through the wiry hair cushioning the base of his cock, Harry shrugs off the notion that he will care what his colleagues think, for without a tenure he won’t have any to pass judgment on him. While Scorpius gently cups his balls and rubs a thumb along the underside of his stiffening length, Harry convinces himself the children will come round, given time. He doesn’t even bother to apply rational thought to the defamation of his public image when Scorpius’ sleep-mused head disappears under the covers, the talented young mouth making obscenely loud sucking noises as it works around the weeping head of his cock. And as for his liberty; Harry cries out and thrusts his hips, fucking the boy’s throat faster and faster until his orgasm and insanity spill over; one kiss from Scorpius would be worth suffering a thousand from the Dementors.
Harry’s fingers weave into the boy’s hair, tugging it gently and guiding him back up so he can lick the swollen lips clean. Scorpius presses his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. He is lost in thought and seemingly uninterested in achieving his own satisfaction. Harry tilts the boy’s chin up, always stunned anew by the power those eyes possess to make his breath catch. Scorpius quietly confesses he wants more, needs more than this; that snatching a few minutes here and there like they have been for months now isn’t enough anymore. Harry smiles and kisses the pale hairline, murmuring his agreement. Very carefully, he suggests that were he not a teacher, and should they initiate a bond, no one and nothing could ever divide them again. Harry is surprised but elated at Scorpius’ vehement agreement, pulling him tightly into a hug and kissing the length of Harry’s jaw. Somehow, now the decision is made, Harry doesn’t feel quite so nervous about the future. There is Draco to deal with, of course, but for Scorpius’ sake, Harry is prepared to allow the older Malfoy a hand in his own fate. Whether he chooses to grab it or let it slip through his fingers, remains to be seen.
***