On The Lead

On The Lead

Malfoy had him by the shabby brown lead, the one on the collar with the sharp pins that dug deep into Harry's throat. He loved it when later, after Malfoy was all sated and relaxed, he would come crawling over Harry, licking at the blood trickling down his chest. But now he yanked Harry close with a harsh snap of the lead. Malfoy was lying on his back, left forearm on his thigh, soft inner skin exposed. Harry could have wept for how beautiful Malfoy was, with enchanted veins shimmering purple underneath translucent skin. He moved closer by his own will, so close he could almost touch the Dark Mark with his lips.

"Don't get too comfortable," Malfoy said, his voice deceptively soft.

Harry froze midair.

It was never a good idea to get too comfortable around the man who ruled Knockturn Alley with an iron fist. Outside of this room, Harry was protected by the Ministerial blue of his robes and Shielding Charms so strong not even Dumbledore could have taken them down. Malfoy did break through them once, but only because Harry let him. He still got hard at the memory of all that blond, pure-blooded arrogance penetrating his Salvio Hexia, wand raised and grey eyes trained on Harry, no one else but Harry.

Malfoy was watching him now through half-closed eyes, increasing the pull of the lead. The pressure against Harry's throat intensified. He grew short of breath, trying hard to not gulp in what little air the tight leather allowed him.

"Lick it," Malfoy said, the slightest shiver to his voice. He raised his left wrist, spreading the palm wide, a gesture so full of lust and power it made Harry's groin tingle. God, he wanted Malfoy's fist in his hair and the Dark Mark rubbing hard against his cheek. He wanted to bite it, push his teeth into the skin and draw the pure blood from the veins. There was magic still to the Mark, no matter that Voldemort was long dead. Or perhaps it was Malfoy's magic that Harry could smell on the skin, like approaching thunder in the still air before the storm.

"Easy, easy..." Malfoy pulled the lead, holding Harry's head back, away from his arm. "What's the word, Potter?"

"Please. Please..." He'd learned to beg, to cast down his eyes and wait for Malfoy to tell him what to do. Still, he couldn't help the prickling rush of embarrassment that heated his cheeks.

A satisfied chuckle rose from Malfoy's throat. "Yes," he said. "Well done, Golden Boy."

The lead went slack, just enough so Harry could catch his breath. A shiver ran through Malfoy's body as Harry brought his mouth within an inch of the Mark. He started to lick his way up along the snake's twisted tail – that always earned him a moan. Malfoy was eager tonight, Harry could tell. The lead was tighter than usual, but Malfoy's hold on it more erratic, letting him go and pulling him back again and again. Malfoy's prick was already hard, jutting out red and big beside Harry. It twitched with each of his licks, and Malfoy's fingers trembled, clearly aching to touch himself.

His own cock pressed against Malfoy's thigh, but Harry was not allowed to rub himself against the flesh, no matter how much he wanted to hump and spill all over Malfoy. He had brought himself off like that once, during one of their first encounters when they had still met at Claridge's. The punishment had been swift and painful. He'd passed out from how viciously Malfoy had yanked at the lead. The bruises on Harry's throat and neck had shown for days.

Malfoy had made it crystal clear that he was the one deciding when Harry came, how often, and most importantly where. On the Dark Mark, that was. Their trysts always ended with spunk smeared all over Voldemort's tattoo. Malfoy had made it clear too, that Harry was not to heal his bruises and whatever wounds he took away from their bed. Not ever. Harry never did. For days, he'd savour the jabs of pain, reminding him of what nobody but Malfoy could give to him. Reminding him of the sweet need cursing through him when he was allowed near the Dark Mark. Like now...

Carefully Harry pressed closer to Malfoy's skin, moving his teeth over the outlines of the skull. Malfoy groaned beneath him, a low, rumbling sound. A drop of precome collected on the tip of his cock. It took all of Harry's self-control to not move away from the Mark and take Malfoy's swollen prick down his throat. Not long now, and Malfoy had to let go of the lead and wank himself, while Harry woke the magic of the Mark with teeth, tongue and lips. Perhaps Malfoy got off on the pain, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that something happened the moment his mouth touched the marked skin.

Whenever Harry entered Malfoy's flat overlooking Knockturn Alley, his glasses were the first thing to go. Malfoy had once said that he had never seen eyes as brilliantly green. But Harry didn't need his glasses to see the shimmer of magic erupting from the dark veins buried beneath Malfoy's skin. The skin heated up too quickly for what Harry's teeth were doing; Malfoy was on fire.

The lead slackened all of a sudden, and Harry looked up to see Malfoy stare at him, grey eyes soft for once, and glassy, his mouth half-open and trembling.

"Go for it," Malfoy hissed. "Now!" He arched up, right hand flying to his cock, the other shaking with the effort to keep still under Harry's ministrations.

Sharp need crashed through Harry and he couldn't help gasping, even though Malfoy had made it clear he didn't want to hear any noise from him. But Malfoy's thigh was pressing so hard against Harry's groin, moving deliciously against his cock. He had to get away from the writhing body beneath him, or else he would come. Without thought he leaned forward, following the command Malfoy had given him. Draw blood, was what he had meant, and Harry did, catching hot skin between his teeth and biting down on it. Malfoy strangled a scream, but never stopped tossing himself off.

Blood dripped from the Mark, a delicate bracelet of red pearls wrapped around Malfoy's wrist. Harry licked at it, licked at the wounds his teeth had torn into the skull. And he sucked. Hard. He wanted this so much. His dreams were filled with the taste of Malfoy's blood and that raw flare of magic whenever Harry bit into the Mark. He was drowning in it now, Malfoy's body moving wildly beneath him, needy moans spilling from his mouth. Harry could tell Malfoy was moments from coming.

He shouldn't touch Malfoy, he was not allowed to, not yet. Only tongue and teeth and lips. But kisses and bites were not enough, not with the scent of arousal all around, and Malfoy moving against him, so eager for more of the heat they shared. Harry sucked again on the wrist, he wrapped his hand around Malfoy's balls, bringing their jerky bounce to a halt.

Malfoy groaned; abruptly he stopped wanking. Harry kissed the head of the skull, squeezing Malfoy's balls lightly. So heavy and full. So soft... vulnerable and incredibly arousing. He was going to be punished later, but it was so worth it.

Malfoy's head fell back into the pillow, his veins sharp ridges along the sides of his neck. The urge to bite into them was almost overwhelming, and Harry did bite, but into the tail of the snake. Malfoy cried out, unrestrained now, and his scream echoed off the bedroom walls. But he did not move away. Harry bit again, he squeezed hard, and Malfoy spilled with a shudder and a long-drawn, deep moan that didn't stop as he spilled and spilled thick loads of spunk all over Harry.

Sweat glistened on Malfoy's pink skin, small drops collecting in the nooks and edges of his body. His chest rose and fell fast, there was an exhausted wheeze to his panting. Slowly his fingers that had been wrapped tightly around his cock came loose and fell away. Harry wanted nothing more than lick the spunk from those slender hands.

No such luck; he had known that the moment he'd had Malfoy by his balls. A sharp tug on the collar, and Harry was yanked away from the Mark, yanked powerfully, all the way onto his back. He'd been prepared for something, but not for such pain. He stifled a groan, but couldn't stop the tears springing into his eyes. With a strength that still surprised Harry – two years into their affair – Malfoy had him smashed against the headboard, knee shoved between Harry's legs, lifting him up, so he could shove his left arm between Harry's thighs and probe his hole.

Harry wanted to relax into the pain, he wanted to give in and slump against Malfoy, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted. Malfoy was rubbing the Dark Mark against Harry's balls, all the while pushing one, two, then three fingers into him. In and out he went, no lube but the sweat and spunk that covered them.

"Harder," Harry whispered, voice scratchy from pain and need, because that's what Malfoy wanted to hear. Because that's what Harry wanted. Just a couple more thrusts, and he'd come, finally come...

Malfoy stopped. He let go of the lead so fast Harry's head snapped forward against Malfoy's chest. He scrambled to back off. No touching before Malfoy said so.

But Malfoy's right arm was right around Harry's neck, pulling him close. "It's okay now, Golden Boy," he whispered, his voice calculating and cool, with an edge of gentleness that Harry didn't understand. He glanced up into Malfoy's face, but there was nothing but the flushed expression of a man well-fucked and ready to fuck some more.

"Yes?" he said and couldn't help how much he was shaking in Malfoy's embrace.

A nod, and Malfoy settled Harry against him. Like before, he shoved his left arm between Harry's thighs and started to finger-fuck him again. He whispered dirty words into Harry's ear, words like "going to rip open that tight greedy hole of yours" and "make your fat dick shoot so hard", over and over.

Malfoy's knee was strong and slippery between Harry's legs, his fingers slid in and out of Harry, while his arm with the Mark rubbed along the head of Harry's cock, the entire length of it, against his balls and the tender spot behind them. There was that unnatural heat again, like before when Harry had kissed the Mark, and then magic surged between them. A sharp metal taste flooded Harry's tongue, and he couldn't help rock against the Mark, wanting more, wanting Malfoy's hand around his cock, wanting to be filled, deep and whole. He let his head fall against Malfoy's chest, searching for something and finding his nipples. Oh God, he wanted to suck, to bite. He wanted to make Malfoy feel some of the need that he was feeling.

A sharp inhale of breath, sharp stabs of fingers into Harry's arse, and he groaned, God, it felt so good. More, he thought but didn't dare to say aloud. Only when Malfoy thrust into him again, even deeper this time, he couldn't stop himself from moaning, "More, God, Malfoy, more. Go bloody deeper, deeper..."

"Good boy," Malfoy said, purring with satisfaction. "Now touch yourself."

It was the command Harry had been waiting for, and he couldn't bring his hand fast enough to his swollen cock. One tug, two, a third, and he barely had time to savour how good it felt, how right. Malfoy still slid his arm back and forth between Harry's legs, reaching for the crack of his arse, touching, rubbing, probing, with sparks of magic all around. Harry's groin was numb with need, so full of blood, full of everything that he thought he must explode, now –

Blind lust was shooting straight up his spine. With the need curled tight and shivering, almost ready to break and unfurl, Harry looked at Malfoy whose eyes were big and hungry, all trained on him, on him alone.

"Come," he whispered, "come for me, Harry..."

And Harry spilled, spilled everything he was holding within himself, but he couldn't, couldn't keep it in and he was coming so hard, so sweet –

There were droplets of come in the soft blond hair on Malfoy's chest. There was spunk all over, dripping in thick runnels from the Dark Mark, smears of it on the pillow and covers. Harry leaned back onto the bed, sliding off Malfoy's thigh, certain that he wouldn't let him fall. He closed his eyes, feeling nothing but the burn in his arse, an easy numbness settling into his groin, the cool silk of the sheets underneath.

"Having fun, are we, Potter?"

"Always..." Harry couldn't help the happy sound that rose from his throat.

Malfoy edged close, nestling the entire length of his body against Harry. Cold fingers slid underneath the collar and loosened it. A whispered spell, and the collar fell from Harry's throat. The next thing Harry felt were Malfoy's lips on his skin kissing the bruises and small wounds that surely must be showing.

He breathed deeply, shutting out the thoughts of the Ministry that threatened to encroach on his mind already. Soon he had to leave and be the Minister again, but not here. Not when he was with Malfoy.

"Your thoughts are as loud as words, Potter, and I'm not even using Legilimency."

Harry opened his eyes and found himself staring into Malfoy's face.

"I've nothing to hide from you," he said, and it was true: theirs was an allegiance based on need and sex, perhaps even more. Only very few knew of it but it made governing wizarding Britain so much simpler.

"Keep your secrets from Tiberius Ogden, is all I am saying."

"Ogden? He's been fighting the new werewolf legislation. Something to do with that?"

Malfoy nodded, then licked the shell of Harry's ear. For a moment Harry envisioned how it would be if he could stay and be someone other than Harry Potter, some black-haired bloke who was in love with a certain blond. He shoved the vision away, to be examined tonight when he was lying alone in the darkness of his bed. But he was moving away already, just as Malfoy wrapped one arm around his waist.

Harry sat up with a moan. "Glasses?"

Malfoy snapped his fingers, and Harry's glasses rose from the bedside cabinet and into his hands.

"I'll see you next week." Not a question, but a command, even though Harry felt the longing in Malfoy's hands that still held him close.

"Next week", he said, moving from the bed, away from Malfoy's touch.

He was almost out the door when Malfoy called after him. "Minister!"

"What is it?"

"Scourgify," Malfoy intoned, wand in hand, though Harry had never seen him reach for it. A small smile played on Malfoy's lips, incongruous with his tousled hair and naked body that reeked of sex. "You don't want spunk on your robes when you announce the new law."

The Minister's robes shone a midnight blue. There was magic woven into them, magic that Harry could not escape. He smoothed out the cloth, shaking his head at Malfoy indulgently. And then he felt it, like electricity gathering in the still air, moments before the first flash of lightning blazes across the darkened sky: there was a mark on him, hidden below the high collar of the robes. Dark and volatile like a dragon perhaps, spitting fire and brandishing a thorned tail. Harry reached for it with his magic, let his cool clash with the fire, and shot Malfoy a look to tell him he knew.

"You're mine, Potter," was all that Malfoy said, rolling his eyes and already reaching for his black robes. "Now go, bloody go. Save the world once again."

And that, Harry Potter did.

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