Garments

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. Meaning it's not mine, and I don't get any money from it. Nuh-uh.
Author's notes: EEK! My first ever NC-17 fic, so don't be suprised if I wrote some things completely wrong, whether it be wrong in a fic kind of way or a male body knowing kind of way. Beta by my darling Nina (http://www.livejournal.com/users/el_gilliath/)


Harry groaned. His head was going to explode any second and his entire body was aching. Normally he wouldn't have any problem with said issues, but now...just. No.

"No, get this one," Draco stated, pulling a emerald-green shirt off the rack. "With this," He continued, reaching for a pair of black slacks. "And this tie," He said, holding up a scrap of silk in deep greens, blues, and black.

Harry blinked. "Uh..."

Really, he was quite happy with the fact that he got a promotion. He'd miss the fieldwork, of course, but the Auror office work suited him just fine. He now had more time to spend with Draco. Said partner was positively bouncing with excitement when he heard the news. And that is why Harry found himself in a department store he had never heard off, being pulled from one floor to the other. Because Draco's lover was moving up, finally getting the respect he deserved, earning it all by himself and not by the fact that he was the Boy-who-would-not-die. And Draco would not let Harry run around the office wearing his usual jeans and shirts, oh no.

Draco completely ignored Harry's impersonation of a suffocating carp while he continued to throw clothes on top of the large pile Harry was already carrying.

"Green's fine for your skin tones, but not with those red pants you're too fond of," He commented, grabbing shirts, trousers, and other accessories. "Red's just not for you love. Stick to blues and greens, maybe a touch of deep violet. And no prints," He warned, thrusting more items at Harry once more. Harry continued to look at Draco over the clothing as if he'd gone mad.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go try it on."

"Help?" Harry whispered, nearly toppling under the weight of what Draco had handed him. Most of the items looked completely unrecognisable to him. And how was he supposed to know where the dressings room were here? Jesus.

"Right," Draco murmured. "Just follow me." He took some of the clothes and led Harry the way.

"How many garments?" The attendant asked Draco as they approached.

"A bloody ton," Draco replied. When the attendant frowned, Draco growled. The young man suddenly found something very interesting taking place behind Draco, leaving the two men alone in the dressing rooms.

"That wasn't nice," Harry said as Draco pushed him into the handicapped room in the back.

Draco just glared. "Strip down," He ordered, sorting through the mass of clothes they'd gotten. Harry obediently tried on everything he was given. He soon found himself in a whirlwind of clothes. On, off, back on again. Draco accepted and rejected garments seemingly at random, the unsatisfactory ones flying over the door to fall in the hallway, as if he did this every day. Then again, Harry thought as he remembered the sheer size of Draco's wardrobe, he probably did.

"Oh."

Harry looked up and saw Draco cock his head to one side. He saw that his lover was pleased. Draco was looking at Harry with a hungry look. That had turned out... far better than he'd expected. Tight black jeans, smooth all the way to the ankle. Blood-purple t-shirt, stretched tight over that heated chest. Black leather boots.

"This won't do for work, Drake," Harry stated. "It's too..." A single finger closed Harry's lips. The hand connected to it drifted lower, tracing the curve of muscles through the silk shirt, tweaked a nipple to hardness. "Tight," Harry managed to finish. This was so not happening. No, definitely *not* happening. Draco was not going to do him in a dressing room in...whatever department store it was. Bloody fucking hell. He was not going to let Draco do him in said dressing room. He was hard enough to cut diamonds. The jeans were not helping. Definitely not.

Draco slowly backed Harry into the mirror, pressing their bodies together. As Harry's head banged against the glass, Draco started to ravage his mouth with a brutal claiming kiss.

Ok, so maybe he was going to let Draco do him in a dressing room. His body certainly thought it was a good idea. The way Draco's tongue so expertly fucked his mouth, slid and caught and teased his lips. Silk. Heat. Harry was certain he was going to get fucked. In a dressing room. Oh God. And he wanted to. Very much even.

"Fuck me," Harry suddenly hissed, breaking lose from the kiss and tracing Draco's face with his right hand. "Deep and hard. Come on, Drake, you know you want to."

Draco froze for a second, before he started to tug at the fastening of Harry's jeans, yanking and cursing until they were undone and that lovely, perfectly fuckable cock was in his hand. Harry thrust himself into Draco’s rather cool hand. Now that he knew what he wanted, he didn't care what happened or who could walk in them. He just wanted. Needed. This. Now.

The blonde released Harry for a moment, long enough to retrieve a tube of lubricant from the pocket of his jacket, which for some unknown reason had managed to locate itself on the floor. Nor did he remember when his trousers had managed to become undone and pooled around his ankles. But it didn't matter, because he was back in Harry's face, nipping and licking as he pulled Harry's jeans down around his ankles as well. "Gonna fuck you hard, Harry," Draco hissed, dragging his tongue down Harry's throat. "Till you scream for me to let you come." Harry shivered and let his eyes drift closed.

Draco pulled Harry off the mirror and turned him to the center of the small cubicle. He bent him over until his hands were on the ground, legs spread as far as they'd go whilst hobbled by the tight jeans. Harry moaned brokenly as cold, slick fingers penetrated him, carefully stretching him open. Damn it, Draco was purposely avoiding his prostate. Soon, too soon, Draco was pushing the blunt head of his cock inside that tight hole, filling Harry impossibly full.

"Yeah, that's it, fuck me, Drake," Harry whispered, pushing himself back onto the his lover’s erection. "Do it, fuck me, right here where everyone can hear me scream."

Draco shuddered and glanced at the door, bucking his hips to hit Harry's prostate. Harry yelped appreciatively. Yeah, if he made any more noise than a whisper, the entire store would come running, would...

"...And they'll see you with your cock shoved up my ass," Harry groaned, shaking. "They'll see me come, shoot all over the floor from having you inside me, splitting me open..."

Draco growled and thrust harder, setting a brutal pace. "Gonna core you 'til you scream," He promised in a low voice. "Ride you 'till the only thing you can feel is my cock, the only thing you want is release. 'Till you don't care if The Weasel himself walks through that door and sees you like this, begging for me, bent over and taking it up the arse from me." Each word was punctuated by a deep thrust, every one going deeper than the previous one. Both Harry and Draco were panting, straining for release.

"Harder," Harry begged. "Make me come, Draco, please. I wanna feel you inside me, filling me," He whispered, clamping down on Draco's erection.

Draco's eyes crossed as Harry began milking his cock. Between the words they were saying and the consummate heat of Harry's sweet arse, he was so close, so damned close... "Gonna fill your arse with it, just like your mouth when you suck me off. And you like that, don't you, Harry? No, you love it, wrapping those red lips around my cock and sucking me, swallowing me down. You can't get enough, cramming yourself full of my dick, hmmm?"

The very image he'd created of Harry, on his knees, mouth overflowing with Draco's cock, sent him over the edge. He bit his own lip to keep from howling as he shoved himself deep inside Harry's tight arse and climaxed, shuddering as he shot his seed into that lovely heat. Harry rippled his internal muscles around Draco until the he could feel his lover finish with one last tremor.

Draco carefully pulled out of him. Harry jumped as suddenly cold glass met his overheated ass, come dripping down the glossy surface. The young man was achingly hard, pre-come dribbling constantly from his swollen cock. Draco fell to his knees and swallowed Harry whole, relishing the flavors as they slid across his tongue. Harry was so hot, so *sweet*, moaning and thrusting as Draco took him in. "Suck me, Draco," Harry said throatily. "Swallow me like you know you want to. Yeah, you love it, sucking me off. Love cock, don't you? I bet you like this even better than fucking me. Drinking me down must really do it for you, Drake". Harry hissed, thrusting hard into that sinful mouth. Honestly, how Harry managed to still keep talking after everything, Draco could only wonder. But he did not complain, dear God, no.

Draco groaned around Harry's shaft. Because, yes, he did love this, holding Harry inside his mouth, having this ultimate control over his vulnerability and pleasure. Didn’t Harry see it? That he held Harry's pleasure, or torment, on his very own damned tongue?

"Gods, you're so hot, Drake," Harry choked out. "Mouth full of me, sucking away like a kid with a lollypop. Gods, I wish I had your cock in my mouth right now," Harry moaned. "You're like candy, Drake. Sweet candy."

Draco swallowed hard around Harry, shaking with arousal. He was hard again, achingly so. He slid one hand around his erection, the other cupping his swollen testicles. Harry's honey voice continued to torment him, bringing him that much closer, even as Harry's balls began to tighten with anticipation.

"Begging for my come, jerking yourself off. Oh, what a sight you are, Drake."

Draco screamed as he came, done in by Harry's unforgiving, cruel, seductive words. The harsh vibrations of his shout were enough to send Harry over the edge and he shot down Draco's throat, forcing himself into Draco's mouth to the root.

"I think we're done shopping," Harry said breathlessly as he started to pick up what they'd decided to get, as Draco cast a fast cleaning spell, sufficient enough for minor cleaning.

"Right," Draco agreed dazedly. He followed Harry out of the dressing room, smirking at the attendant.

"Hey, Drake?" Harry asked as they walked away.

"Yeah?" Draco replied.

"You could use a new pair of jeans, you know," Harry said over his shoulder, grinning like mad. Draco looked down at his still come-soaked pants.

"Shit."

~*~


A/N: Comments are very appreciated. I'd love to know your thoughts, good or bad, since this is my first NC-17 fic :)