In Rusted Armour

A/N: Well here’s another one shot for the growing collection. I absolutely love writing these. One free night, some wine, some mood lighting, and a laptop equals a one shot! This features an established relationship between Harry and Draco. They’ve been dating about 7 years, and are about 23. Well anyway, enough of me. Here you go! Please enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

“You know what I was thinking, babe?” Draco called from the sitting room.

Harry glanced up from the counter in the bathroom, where he’d been tidying. “What’s that?”

“We haven’t been out in a while.”

Harry leaned over, popping his head through the door to see his live-in boyfriend.

“What are you talking about? We were over at Blaise and Hermione’s the other night. Granted, looking at Eric’s baby pictures isn’t really a thrilling activity, but what can you expect?” he said, making note of the evening Hermione had bombarded them with pictures of their newborn, ignoring Harry’s protests that he was still an infant and they could see him anytime they wanted.

“Yes well, fun as that was,” Draco grimaced, clearly remembering the night all too well, “I was thinking something for just the two of us. I haven’t taken you on a proper date in... probably since just after school,” he finished, a horrified expression creeping onto his face.

Harry sighed and snapped the rubber gloves off his hands. “You know,” he said, plopping down next to the blonde on the couch, “I don’t really need to be taken out. I like staying in. As long as it’s with you.” He batted his eyes prettily and his smile was sickeningly sweet.

“While I realize that my company is all one needs to satisfy themselves, you deserve more than satisfaction. We’re going out.” Draco was playing along with Harry’s ‘couple in love’ act. It was something they had adopted to embarrass Hermione and Blaise when they had started dating. Neither felt that it had lost its touch.

“Draco, really,” Harry sighed, not completely sold on the idea. “I’d rather just stay in tonight. It’s too much trouble to do something now. It’s getting late.”

Draco glared at him. “You make me sad. It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. Please don’t tell me we’re becoming one of those couples that never does anything. For Christ’s sake Potter, I will not become –that- couple.”

“Fine, fine.” Harry knew that, at this point, it was easier to just go along with what Draco wanted. When he started whining, it was impossible to stop him until he got his way. Lovely remnants of his childhood spoiling.

Harry’s agreement brought out a gorgeous smile from his boyfriend. “Lovely. Tonight, Potter, I shall be your knight in shining armour.” He said this with an air of grandeur.

Harry scoffed. “And what exactly are you saving me from, my strapping young knight?”

“From the monotony that is our lives, of course. Now come on, we need to get dressed. I’m taking you someplace new and exciting.” He dragged Harry into the front hall, insisting along the way that he get dressed very warmly.

“No, Harry, you need to wear a hat. I don’t care if you think you look stupid,” he said, shoving the hat towards Harry who already looked as though he belonged in an add campaign for the North Pole.

Harry protested viciously. “If you’re not wearing a hat, I’m not wearing a hat. Besides, where in God’s name are we going? Unless we are literally planning on lying in the snow for the next five hours, I think I’m dressed warmly enough.” He looked down, considering himself. “Ugh, I look absolutely awful under all this.”

“Don’t worry babe, I’d still fuck you,” Draco said, kissing his nose, one of the last visible slices of skin on Harry’s body.

Harry blushed, always the more reserved of the two of them, before being dragged out of their apartment by an overexcited Draco.

“Do you have the key, Draco?”

The blonde paused for a beat and then rushed back into the entry way, emerging with a key dangling between index finger and thumb. “Good call,” he said, locking the door and slipping the key into his back pocket.

OOOoooOOO

Their cab pulled up outside the Natural History Museum of London about ten minutes later.

“Well,” Draco said once they had stepped outside, “We made pretty good time.” He looked around, as though pleased with himself.

Harry, on the other hand, was skeptical. “Not that I mind visiting a museum, but would you mind explaining to me why I’m dressed like this for an indoor tour?”

Draco seemed afronted. “Harry, when have I ever taken you to a museum? We’re here for the ice rink!”

Understanding swept through Harry. The reason for the clothes, of course. Okay, skating he could deal with. He hadn’t skated in years and quite missed it. He was under no misapprehension of being talented but he could certainly manoeuvre his way around a rink.

Then a thought struck him.

They had no skates. Granted, this had been a spur of the moment outing, but surely Draco had thought of this. No one would go ice skating without ice skates.

“So, where do we get skates?” he asked as they journeyed around the building.

“There should be a place to rent them around here, shouldn’t there?” Draco looked confident in his assumption.

Harry shrugged. He had never heard of such a place but he trusted Draco to take care of their date.

It became more and more apparent as they walked around the rink that Draco had been mistaken. There was nowhere to rent skates. In fact, it seemed to be the general consensus of the people they asked that they were remarkably thick-headed for coming without skates. Harry could sense Draco’s mounting frustration and embarrassment.

“Babe, why don’t we just forgo the skating today? We can just go get dinner someplace nice, yeah?” Harry asked, trying to cheer him up. It really didn’t matter to him – as he had mentioned, he would have been perfectly happy to just stay home and enjoy Draco’s company.

Draco sighed in defeat. “Do you mind if I borrow your phone to make reservations somewhere?”

“No problem,” Harry said as he handed the phone over. “And trust me, I really don’t mind about the skating. I probably would have hurt myself anyway, and that’s... not something you want.” He trailed off, not quite knowing how to make light of the situation. After all, it was a little strange that Draco had taken him ice skating with no skates.

As Draco made the reservation, Harry hailed a cab. He knew the place Draco was most likely to call, because it was one of the only places that would require a reservation at 5:30 p.m. A fancy place on the other end of town. They didn’t go there very often because it was quite far from their apartment but considering they were halfway across town as it was...

“The Dorchester, right?” Harry verified once he was off the phone and they were stepping into the cab.

“Yes, is that the kind of place you had in mind? Sorry I didn’t ask, I figured it would be alright,” Draco answered, as though he hadn’t even thought to ask beforehand.

“No, of course that’s fine. It’ll take us a little time to get back home, but it’s always worth it.” He smiled at the blonde. He was making up for the skating.

They spent the majority of the cab ride looking out the windows. They rarely got to experience London in a car. Normally, they would take the underground but this restaurant happened to fall in one of the bleeps on the London underground map. It was about ten blocks to the nearest stop but in this weather, paying for a cab was preferable.

They paid the driver and climbed out, noticing how empty the street around them seemed. Harry decided to ignore it in favour of the food that was calling his name. Apparently the mere suggestion of skating was enough to rouse his appetite because he was suddenly starving.

They walked through the blowing snow, finally reaching the doors to the Dorchester. Stepping in, the rustled around with their clothing, trying to look presentable after the near snowstorm outside.

“Good evening Sirs, may I be of assistance?” Asked the Maitre D’, appearing in front of them.

“Hello, yes, reservations for Malfoy?”

The well dressed man flicked through a few sheets of paper before looking back up. “For what time Sir?”

“It should be under 5:30,” Draco replied, a sinking feeling hitting his stomach.

The man looked back down with a, “Hm.” He ran his finger through all the lines before announcing, “I am sorry Sir but it appears you do not have a reservation under that name. Is there another name I could check?”

Draco fumed. “Listen, I just called twenty minutes ago. I spoke to a woman who assured me that there would be a table waiting for me when I arrived. There is no other name for the reservation. It is under Malfoy, and it should be there.”

The Maitre D’ had the grace to look apologetic. “I am very sorry, however there is no reservation and we are completely booked. If you would like, we could put your name down for the next available table?” he questioned.

“And how long might we be waiting here for that?” An angry Malfoy was not a pleasant Malfoy.

“The next availability is for 7:30 tonight, Sir.”

Harry had to hold his boyfriend back from practically charging the Maitre D’.

“Listen,” Harry said to both, “We’ll leave. We can get food someplace else, it’s fine. Come on, Draco.” He led them both out of the place, still gripping Draco’s arm tightly in case he decided to go back and give the man a piece of his mind.

“But Harry, there’s no place else to go around here, we’re in the middle of nowhere, as London goes,” he whined, looking up and down the street for a cab. He saw none. The streets were just as empty as when they had walked in. They looked uneasily at each other.

“I don’t think we have much chance of catching a cab here,” Harry said.

Draco could do nothing but sigh in agreement. He couldn’t even hear a car off in the distance.

“I guess we could find a bus stop?” Draco suggested.

Harry smiled tightly and nodded once. Neither was too thrilled to be waiting for a bus after having had both their date activity and their dinner ruined. To make matters even ‘better’, as Draco was walking away from the curb, he fell.

It happened in slow motion, as these things often do. Harry had to try very hard not to laugh as he watched his normally composed boyfriend flail this way and that, trying to grab thin air to prevent the fall. In the end, he fell awkwardly on his leg, whimpering loudly, in an effort not to yell.

Harry immediately felt guilty for finding humour in the fall as he rushed over to help him up. The leg nearly gave out under him as Draco tried to put weight on it. He shot Harry a pathetic look, earning him an eye-roll. An eye-roll and a supportive shoulder to lean on.

“Can you walk?” Asked Harry, always the concerned boyfriend.

“Of course I can walk. I just need a little assistance,” Draco glared at him and Harry knew, right then, that they would never speak of this again.

It took twenty minutes of limping, but they finally found a bus stop. They were the only ones to sit under the overhang, but there were two others waiting for the bus. It seemed they had been waiting a while and Harry, who had no idea about the bus schedule, became slightly concerned.

There was a girl, probably a year or two younger than them, in her early twenties, who was dressed like she had run away from the circus, or so it seemed to Harry. He would be the first to admit his lack of fashion sense but he could not see any possible aesthetic or practical advantages to pairing dark purple leotards with a lime green pea coat. Especially on a cold London day in January. He shook his head, shifting his attention to the old man also waiting for the bus.

He was, in a word, intimidating. He wore a leather jacket, and not a sleek one like Draco owned, but a rough, torn one that had obviously seen many winters. He had a chain hanging out of his pocket and a bandana around his head. In short, he looked like the real life version of the poser teenagers Harry often saw walking around London.

He would speak to the girl.

“Sorry, excuse me, do you know when the bus is scheduled to arrive?” He asked, taking care to keep his distance.

She seemed nice enough, however, as she answered in a rich West London accent, “It was supposed to be here about ten minutes ago. Obviously running late. Probably from the weather?”

“Right, lovely. Thank you,” Draco said from beside Harry.

And so they sat. And sat.

Harry could tell Draco was trying not to complain about his leg hurting, but he kept shifting uncomfortably, which reminded Harry of his pain all the same. He kept asking if he was okay, or if they should go to a doctor but Draco was resolute in his refusal. He was, after all, a man. Harry rolled his eyes.

When the bus came, thirty minutes later, all four of them jumped up eagerly, even Draco, leg and all. The cold had reached further than either of them cared to admit and getting on the bus, no matter how slow it was, was a bit of a blessing. It turned out the bus was quite slow indeed. Not that it was a surprise to them, given the lateness of it’s arrival, but it seemed to take an eternity getting to their stop.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the mood between them was a little more cheerful. Draco was hurting in more ways than one. His pride was injured on a number of levels because of the failed date and he was also in, what Harry assumed, was a good deal of physical pain as well. On top of it all, he was feeling bad that his first date with Harry in years had turned out so incredibly badly. This stilted the conversation somewhat.

Finally, finally, they got home. Harry hadn’t had to carry Draco on this walk, as his leg seemed to be improving. He was still limping heavily but it showed definite signs of improvement, something Harry was pleased about.

“Okay Harry, don’t panic but...” Draco said as he rooted around in his jeans, and then his jacket.

Harry closed his eyes and his hand automatically jumped in rub the bridge of his nose. “Draco, you didn’t.”

“I may have.” Still rooting.

“You lost the key.”

“Mhmm.”

“And your leg is hurt so whatever will be done, will be done by me.” Harry sighed. “Alright, hold this,” he handed over his jacket. “I’ll climb the fire escape then come down and let you in.” And off he went. Draco watched as his boyfriend climbed, clearly freezing, but unable to wear the bulky coat Draco had forced upon him earlier.

He saw as Harry climbed into the window of their fifth floor apartment and disappeared. He didn’t have to wait a minute before his boyfriend was at the entrance to their building, holding the door open for him.

“You know, this has made me a little uncomfortable with the security situation in our building.”

Hearing Harry’s casual tone, Draco broke. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I made this evening an absolute nightmare.”

Harry sighed, trying to cheer up for Draco. “No you didn’t. Well, it was a bit of a nightmare but just think of the stories we can tell now.”

“Of the worst date ever?”

“People will come from far and wide to hear about this night.”

Back in their place, they removed their winter clothing and Draco into the kitchen while Harry poured them both glasses of red wine. He handed one to Draco, leaving his own on the counter in front of them.

“You know, very little that went wrong was actually your fault,” Harry said, tracing a line down Draco’s jaw as it worked with a swallow of his own glass. “I mean, a lot of that was just chance. The restaurant not getting our reservations, not being able to find a taxi, the bus being late...”

Draco put his glass down next to Harry’s. “Hmm, I like that.” He turned to Harry, pressing him against the counter.

“I suppose the evening could use some improvement, though...” Harry trailed off, looking deep into Draco’s gray eyes and raising an eyebrow.

“You might be right,” Draco purred. “However will we go about that, I wonder?” He leaned in slowly, his open lips lightly meeting Harry’s. Both men let out half moans at the sensual contact. And that was the end of the tenderness. Harry arched his body into Draco’s, causing him to lose contact with the counter. Draco quickly righted this situation, propelling them back towards it, his mouth smashing into his partner’s.

They held each other tightly, fingers buried in hair, palms caressing muscled backs.

Harry broke the kiss and, as he pulled his shirt over his head, Draco muttered, “Gods, I love you.” Harry smiled and returned the sentiment, “Love you, too.” With hungry looks and hands, they finished undressing each other.

They didn’t speak again, unless moans and grunts were counted among words.

Draco felt Harry’s hand travel lower on his back, and then slide around to his front. It continued its decent, quickly meeting its goal. Draco’s erection.

He sucked in a deep breath as he felt the tight grip in contrast to the slow movements of Harry’s hand. Wanting nothing more than to return the lust to his partner, Draco removed the hand and dropped down, minding his leg. He knelt in front of Harry, almost in worship. The man had a glorious body. He didn’t take the time to appreciate it often enough. The near image of a Greek God only better, if that were possible. But, Draco surmised, the erection jutting out of his body probably contributed to this judgment.

He ran his hands along the flat plane of Harry’s torso, his fingers rippling as they crossed over muscle. His hands came to rest of his hips, which he pulled towards himself. Draco didn’t grip the erection, only bobbing his head forward to reach it. He licked slowly, not taking the shaft into his mouth, just teasing it. Draco could feel Harry’s hands stroking the length of his shoulders, obviously trying to keep his hands busy. He knew Draco didn’t appreciate fingers in his hair, no matter the situation.

The blonde continued, making broad strokes with his tongue up the shaft and then smaller laps just beneath the tip. Finally giving up on the teasing, and already having bigger and better plans, he took the mushroom head into his mouth, sucking gently.

He heard Harry gasp eagerly and felt him fingers jump to his head, blatantly ignoring the no-fingers-in-hair rule.

They had sex often. No one could argue that point, but sex to them had become more an expression of love than an expression of lust, of want, of need. This, however, was all of the above. As Draco turned Harry around to face the counter and bent him over, there was very little thought of affection in his mind. Only the thought of this beautiful being, bent and ready before him.

As he spread Harry’s cheeks, an anticipatory tingle went through him, tugging at his groin. He loved this. He might have bet he loved it more than Harry, but, well... Seeing Harry getting rimmed was one of the most arousing things he had ever experienced. It was the one thing guaranteed to make Harry melt. It would be interesting, Draco considered momentarily, to see if his boyfriend would be able to maintain enough tension in his legs to keep himself upright.

This in mind, he gave a first lick. Harry buckled and whimpered above him.

Harry was beside himself. The moment he felt Draco’s tongue flick along his buttocks, he lost it. He may as well have been unconscious, for all the work his brain was doing.

He felt the thick, hot tongue running its way along the space between his balls and arse, leaving a trail of moisture. He felt it approaching his entrance, slowly, oh so slowly, and squirmed. He let loose a loud moan and threw his head back.

This was animalistic; this was irrational. This was sex.

After a few laps of the slick tongue over his entrance, it began to dig, and bury itself into the opening. Harry groaned and slammed his hand across the counter, causing a loud ‘smack’ to echo through the apartment. He could hear Draco chuckle quietly from underneath him and almost brought himself to care. But not quite.

Harry could feel Draco’s face pressed against his arse, trying to dig his tongue as deeply into him as possible. It did not go unappreciated. Harry had lost his mind. Unsure of what to do with his hands but needing to do something, he moved them constantly. He rubbed against the granite countertop, gripped the edge, ran them through his own hair, anything to keep them busy and moving.

Draco had, by this time, inserted a saliva-lubricated finger into him and was continuing his licking around the digit. Harry was emitting a symphony of moans, grunts and sighs, too far gone to understand the meaning of the word ‘control’. As such, he began humping himself on Draco’s finger, unable to help himself.

It was only once Draco had two fingers inside of him, and had been scissoring them comfortably for a few moments that he stopped suddenly, taking his fingers with him as he stood. His aroused cock making contact with the awaiting arse. Harry was still swaying slightly on spot, never having stopped from pushing back against his fingers and tongue. He clearly wanted something to fill the created void.

“You ready?” Draco asked, pushing his head lightly against the entrance.

“Uhhz,” a heavy moan was his only response and Draco took that as a go-ahead. He spit on his palm and rubbed his saliva as thoroughly over his cock as he could, before pushing it into the already stretched and lubricated entrance. He felt the muscles give way, offering more than enough resistance for good friction.

Once fully inside his lover, he stopped and looked down at Harry, assessing his comfort while trying not to come on the spot. He felt like a teenager. Sex with Harry would never get old.

After only seconds, he felt Harry pushing back into him, trying to hump back onto him, but constrained by the kitchen counter. Draco gave in to him, as if he had a choice, and began pulling out, only to thrust back in, half a second later.

Draco sighed and dropped his head back, hips still moving faster than was usual for them. It was strange feeling Harry’s velvet walls caressing him at such a rapid pace. He usually like to go slowly, enjoy him, but he had a feeling that this rough fuck in the kitchen was good for them both. Relief of tension, if you will.

Draco’s thoughts couldn’t distract him for long, as Harry started slamming back against him with every thrust. It was clear that he was close. Closer than he would have been normally. And that brought Draco closer to his own climax. This clearly wouldn’t be a long bout of sex.

He reached under Harry and grabbed the other’s erection in his practiced hand. The moment his hand wrapped around his cock, Harry’s head fell forwards, a loud ‘thump’ sounding. They both came seconds later. Harry from sheer stimulation, and Draco, when he felt Harry’s muscles tighten around him further. That, coupled with the knowledge that he had made Harry come like a schoolboy, was enough fuel to shoot Draco over the edge.

He gently pulled out of Harry and sat on the cold kitchen floor. Harry dropped down next to him and pulled him down so they were lying beside each other, Draco spooning him. Neither said anything for a long time, just waiting in comfortable silence for their breathing to slow.

“My head hurts,” Harry said, out of the blue. Draco remembered that he had knocked it against the counter seconds before coming and turned him over a little in his arms to get a better look at it.

“It doesn’t look too bad. It might swell a little but I don’t think it’ll bruise.”

More silence. Then, as Draco remembered something from that afternoon;

“Sorry I didn’t exactly deliver on my ‘knight in shining armour’ promise.”

Harry just snorted tiredly. “I think your armour was just a little rusty. Besides, don’t worry, you’ve done more than enough to make up for it,” he said as he snuggled deeper into his lover’s arms.

Perhaps the kitchen floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to settle, but with each other, it was enough.

OOOoooOOO

I’ve had the title for this in my head awhile, it was just building a plot around it that kept this from being written ages ago. But there you have it! I’m happy with it, hopefully you will be too. Please leave a short (or long...) review telling me what you thought! Cheers!