Prompt: # 79
Summary: Harry and Draco have been together for a year, and they are doing just fine.
Warnings: implications of former bottom!Draco (not with Harry though)
Word Count: 3672
Author's Notes: This was a challenge since it wasn't going to have a real plot at all :D But I liked it!
"It will get worse from here on end," Ron Weasley knowingly said as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy celebrated their first year as a couple. "Believe me, the honeymoon is over now."
Harry and Draco had just laughed at him. Well, Draco had laughed, Harry had given Ron a pitiful smile and patted his jaded, and little intoxicated, friend on the shoulder.
"You call this a honeymoon?" laughed Draco. "If this was a honeymoon there would more palm trees and less Gryffindors."
He was relaxed, but his arm around Harry's waist spoke of possession. Then again, Harry had exactly the same hold on him. They were standing by the bar talking to Ron, most of their other guests were hopping away on the conjured dance floor.
This one year celebration had been Harry's idea, it also coincided nicely with Harry's twenty-first birthday one week earlier. Draco had thought it an excellent idea and had only opposed it because he loved it when Harry tried to talk him into something. Harry's persuasions, whether they were successful or not, always ended with kissing.
They were in a Muggle pub in the west of London. It was rented for the occasion. The owner was Muggleborn witch in her forties who had chosen to take over the family business. She was bartender for the evening.
"Jenny," called Harry. "Another pint for me and a glass of white wine for Draco, Chardonnay, please."
"Comin' right up, luv," said the barmaid and waived her wand.
The party lasted until two, when Jenny announced that her liquor licence had ended for the night. Draco and Harry flooed home, but not before declining Seamus's offer to find a nightclub, Hermione's offer of finding fried food and Luna's offer to go swim in the nearest fountain.
In the end the party spliced up in four groups; the clubers, the eaters, the swimmers, and the home goers. Luna got Neville, Ginny, Oliver and, strangely enough, Pansy on her team.
As Draco and Harry returned home they were greeted by Zephyr, Draco's white pure breed Afghan cat, and ignored by Misha, Draco's other cat that was tiger-striped and a former stray.
"Hello, babies," Draco bent over, a little unsteadily, to coo with Zephyr. "Daddy's home."
"Yes, he is," hummed Harry, grabbing Draco's arse.
"And, uncle Harry is a pervert," Draco cuddled the luscious white cat-fur to his face and slipped away from Harry's grabby hands.
Draco looked as sensual as his cats, though a little drunker, as he crossed the room and placed Zephyr on his kitty-bed. Misha stretched on the couch, yawned, and glared with her yellow eyes at Harry.
"Why do I have to be 'uncle'?" Harry pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his muscular dark haired chest.
"We can't both be 'daddy'," smirked Draco, unbuttoning his own shirt, revealing his smooth pale skin and pink nipples. "They would be confused."
"So..." Harry grinned, stepping closer to Draco and throwing his discarded shirt on top of a hissing Misha. "Can I call you 'daddy'?"
"Not if you want to survive the night."
"I think I can take you," he grinned even harder.
"Potter," Draco placed his hands on his hips, showing off the lines of his hipbones - a favourite of Harry's - and gave a evil smile. "You can't take me, and you can never take me."
"Fair enough," Harry laughed and took the last steps to reach Draco's lips and placed a soft kiss on them. "You go on thinking just that, and one day maybe it will happen."
"Wanker," huffed Draco and kissed Harry back.
They both knew that even if Harry submitted sexually, he was stronger than Draco both physically, magically and mentally. If Harry really wanted, he would never let Draco do half the things he did to him. This was partly why Draco loved him so much. He was pleased, though, that he had the intelligent, practical and intellectual upper hands on Harry.
The kiss was deep, wet and a bit sloppy, but then again, they both had their share of alcohol. Harry bent his knees and proceeded kissing Draco's left nipple, licking the bud hard. Harry traced the long scar over Draco's chest with his tongue. The skin was more sensitive there. Draco moaned, running his fingers through Harry's dark soft mess of hair.
"Let's move this to the bed," he breathed.
"I'm not tired," mumbled Harry from the nape of Draco's neck.
"Yes, well I am," he pushed Harry back stopping him just in time from digging his hands down Draco's trousers. "And we are both drunk, it will better on the bed."
Draco winked and turned his back to go to the bedroom. He let his open shirt fall over his shoulders and down to the floor. He looked back, over his shoulder, to Harry.
"Are you coming?" he leered.
He heard Harry following him by the sound of shoes banging to the floor and a belt rustling, followed by a swish of trousers being pulled off.
Draco proceeded to the bathroom. He took a gulp of tooth potion and started rinse his teeth, taking off the rest of his clothes in the process. The then spat the minty fluid in the sink and corrected a few tussled hairs on his head in the mirror.
"Here I come," he said, stepping out of the bathroom.
Harry was on the bed, naked and sleeping. Draco huffed but then shook his head and smiled.
Draco sighed and lay down beside Harry. He snuggled up to him tight and spelled the sheet to cover them. In his sleep Harry moved closer to Draco. Draco kissed his shoulder and relaxed.
"Good morning, love," Harry kissed Draco's cheek as he entered the kitchen.
He was only wearing his red and white striped pyjama bottoms, looking deliciously hairy and rumpled. Draco was by the table, clean-shaved, dressed in his casual blue robe, white shirt and green tie. He placed a hand on Harry's chest and kissed him back.
"You call this morning?" Draco smirked. "I've been up for hours doing research in the lab. I was just going to have my tea and biscuit break."
"Not everyone goes up at six am every day, even the days when they partied the night before."
"If someone hadn't fallen asleep in a drunken stupor, I might have been more tired." Draco placed his tin of biscuits on the table. "Not everyone wakes up up at half past ten either," he added.
"Oo! Biscuits!" Harry snagged two chocolate ones out of the tin.
"Those are not for breakfast eating!"
"Wha-?" Harry munched happily, crumbs around his mouth.
"Never mind," sighed Draco taking up his handkerchief to whip Harry's chin. "I'll put your coffee on."
Draco left his tea on the table under a heat spell and walked over to the muggle coffee-maker. He hated the ugly contraption in his kitchen, but Harry preferred it to the magically brewed kind. Draco never drank coffee himself. In his opinion, coffee was only good for giving taste to frosting on a chocolate cake and to taste on Harry's lips.
"Don't eat all my biscuits," Draco summoned the tin just as Harry snagged another. "You are only supposed to have two at the time. Have some porridge or something."
"Sorry for interrupting your biscuit schedule," laughed Harry. "I buy you new ones tomorrow on the way to work."
"You better," huffed Draco, taking two biscuits from the tin for himself and placing them on a small plate.
"Sorry for last night."
Harry came over to him and gave him a hug from behind, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.
"You remember?" Draco leaned into Harry.
"I'll make it up to you. Do we have any toast?"
"It's amazing how your mind works sometimes," smiled Draco as he shook his head and poured Harry's coffee in a cup, adding a hint of milk. "From sex to toast on nought seconds."
"It's because you remind me of toast," Harry opened the bread box.
"Crispy and hot."
"You are mad," proclaimed Draco settling down with his tea, two biscuits and a blushing expression on his face.
Harry left for a jog after his late breakfast. You'd never catch Draco running for something that wasn't life threatening or antique furniture. Draco was more of a brooding stroller than a carefree runner. He settled down on the sofa, between Zephyr and Misha, and read out interesting articles from the Prophet to the cats.
Harry called the Prophet a tasteless rag, but Draco enjoyed some of the stories and gossip, sometimes even if they were about him. Because of the event last night, there was actually a couple of articles mentioning Draco.
"According to this..." Draco pointed out the first text to Zephyr, who was his most attentive listener, "...Daddy is a slut. And according to this one over here... Daddy is a fashion genius."
Zephyr purred. Misha yawned.
"And this one here..." he paused, rereading the text to get it right. "Calls uncle Harry a hero just for putting up with me. Hmpf, it's the other way around isn't it, sweetie? They don't have to live with him and his stinky socks."
Misha seemed to agree with this and miaowed. Draco nodded in satisfaction, and moved on to the business section of the paper. The cats was not so keen on this part so he read quietly.
A moment later a house elf arrived in the kitchen with a bag of clean laundry and a grocery shopping bag. Draco still used the Malfoy elves for the more boring tasks, like washing, cleaning and cooking. Harry frowned upon it but had never objected. Probably since the elves' cooking was so much better than Draco's.
"Bippy bids young master hello," the elf bowed and sent the groceries and floating to the workbenches.
"Hello," answered Draco in an gallivant effort to be polite to the creatures he had been brought up to look down on.
“Today is chicken-stew,” said the elf placing a big tray with a silver lid on the kitchen table. “Is under heat spell.”
"Is my green and gold robe clean?"
"Very bad stain, young master," Bippy looked a little panicked as Misha suddenly jumped down from the sofa and started sniffing him. "But is clean now. Look!"
The elf pulled the robe from the washing bag, it floated on a wooden hanger in mid-air. Draco looked closer to where a horrible coffee stain, which had been entirely Harry's fault, once had been; no trace. He nodded, signing to the elf to continue the unpacking under his supervision.
It still amazed him even after a year, that basically all Harry's clothes could just be folded and put in drawers, while almost all of Draco's clothes had to be fitted on a wooden hanger and hung in a wardrobe.
Misha purred against Bippy and licked his big nose. The elf gave a squeak that made Zephyr take attention and close in on him as well. Bippy 'eek'-ed and ran towards the hallway, the cats followed him. Draco smiled, the little dears really enjoyed their games.
There was the sound of the front door opening, another squeak and an excited meow.
“What the...” Harry's amused voice reached Draco.
After a few seconds Harry entered the kitchen, holding Zephyr and Misha in his strong arms. Draco noted that he had taken off his running shirt and stuffed it like a tail in the back of his shorts. He raised an eyebrow, looking the fit body over. You'd never find Draco voluntary taking off his clothes in public. He could stretch to a swimsuit on the beach, but not really.
“Put the cats down,” he said. “Otherwise Bippy has to bathe your sweat off their fur.”
There was a distressed sound coming from the hallway. Harry laughed and put the cats down on the table. Draco immediately took out his wand and casually began to untangle some wet parts of Zephyr's luscious mane. He glanced at Harry, who had gone over to the kitchen tap for a glass of water.
"Hot outside?" he asked in a light tone.
"Stifling," answered Harry taking his shirt and wiping his face and neck with it, totally unaware of the effect he had on Draco by doing so.
"May I ask how many damsels fainted in the parks as you jogged by?" Draco patted the cat and moved closer to Harry, smiling innocently.
“None,” Harry frowned, looking at Draco as if he had become insane. “But I did find Pansy and Luna on their way home, they had slept by the fountain all night,” he laughed. “They really seem to have hit it off, those two.”
“Where they drowning?” Draco looked over Harry's firm chest and abs. “Did you have to take your shirt off, dive in and rescue them?”
"What? Oh!" Harry blushed a little but then gave Draco a naughty smile. "I did my duty. I gave them mouth-to-mouth, though. I think they are fine."
"I'm so relieved," Draco took hold of Harry's right nipple and twisted it between thumb and forefinger gingerly, Harry grunted. "Bippy has brought the food already, you need to put it away. Wash up."
"Do you want to join me?" Harry slid his hand down Draco's hip, moving the tip of the thumb close to the front of the trousers. "I think I need something else than food in me."
"You are in a good mood... How many of those damsels did you save?"
"Enough to know that you are the only one whose lips I want on mine," Harry leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Draco's lips. "And not just for a year now, but for a very long time."
Their kiss deepened after that, and before Draco knew what had happened he was naked in the bathroom. He suspected wandless magic on Harry's part, but only felt more aroused over this subtle show of power. This power was his to control as well, because he was the only one that Harry would yield to and let inside, in more ways than one.
Harry pulled him towards the shower, where the warm water was already flowing.
"You better not have vanished my silk shirt again," Draco said while nuzzling Harry's neck. "I just had a new one fitted after the last time you sent my clothes to oblivion."
"I'll buy you a new one," Harry kissed Draco's forehead.
Like Draco ever would let Harry shop for him. He didn't voice this opinion though because the kiss was almost enough for him to change his mind.
The water felt good running over his body and Harry's closeness felt even better. They moved against each other, feeling their ways over slick wet skin. Draco found Harry's buttocks and began massaging them. Harry grunted and leaned his head backwards to open up his neck for more kisses. Draco took the cue to cover the area with butterfly kisses.
Though the butterflies quickly turned to fleas when Draco started scraping Harry's skin with his teeth. Harry grunted even more and pushed his backside against Draco's hands.
"Turn around," breathed Draco feeling his hard cock rub gloriously against Harry's.
Harry gave Draco a wanton look and turned to face the tile, placing his hands on either side of the shower pipes. He buckled backwards in a pose that made Draco almost combust with desire. But Draco knew how to enjoy his treats. A life of denial, and pain, had taught him to take care of what made him happy. Harry made Draco very happy.
He summoned one of the lotion bottles from the nearest shelf; one of his own recipes, like he would trust Harry's arse and pleasure with any other manufacturer. Draco began caressing Harry's arse with slippery hands, only dusting the crack lightly with smooth fingertips. Harry moaned, thrusting his hips backwards again.
"Hurry!" he growled.
"No," said Draco with a grin. "This is going to be slow."
Harry gasped as Draco's fingers of Draco's right hand slowly pushed between his buttocks. His fingers moved slow and with intent, rubbing towards Harry's hole. He breached the muscle with his forefinger. Harry instinctively separated his feet and breathed a very content sigh. Draco loved that sound, that sound that only Harry could make. He kissed Harry's neck, just above the back, there was still a faint smell of sweat that had not been washed away by the running water. Draco moved his finger and inserted a second. Harry's hands clawed the tiles.
Draco began to rub the hard tip of his erection against the slicked skin before him, it felt good. His left hand moved forwards over a firm hip, his fingertips felt the rough hair on the other side.
“Touch me,” moaned Harry. “Please!”
Draco grinned and twisted his fingers in Harry's hole. Harry jerked his hips, making Draco push deeper. He was reaching his own limits now. Even if he had said that this was going to be slow; he was just one wizard with desires like everyone else, and he had been snubbed his pleasure the night before.
Still he had some of his mind left. Draco continued to move his fingers inside of Harry, milking the sweet sounds that he loved. His hard cock leaked pre-cum that mixed with the lotion slicked up the shaft. Draco bit down on Harry's shoulder, sucking the skin. That would keep the fool from taking off his shirt in public again, at least for a while. He smirked. Harry breathed hard.
He gripped Harry's cock in his left hand, it was rigid but smooth to the touch. And warm, very warm. Once upon a time he would have liked to have that in side himself, but not now, not since Harry had given him all he never knew he wanted. He started to move his hands in sync.
That night a year ago, Harry had saved Draco. Saved him from loosing himself. He had been nervous that time. Not like now. Now he moved with all confidence and force that he knew Harry needed him to give. He knew that Harry could take it, and that Harry wanted it that way. Draco pulled out his fingers, leaving Harry's hole empty for a couple of moments, letting the man miss him.
“Please,” Harry pleaded.
“Yes,” Draco pushed the top of his cock just to the stretched opening, teasing it with lotion, heat and pre-cum “I will...”
It was at this moment Draco usually lost control of most of his senses, among them the ability to think in a straight line. He pushed inside that welcoming softness, and let himself be pulled in. Harry jerked his hips, allowing Draco to move deeper inside. They moved in sync, drawing pleasure from each other at each grunt. Nothing like it had been a year ago. Draco had been confused. He still remembered, standing there in tastelessly decorated old bedroom of Harry's, looking down on on the naked man on the bed.
Harry had asked him to fuck him. The hero of the wizarding world had asked Draco to take him. Draco, who had never done anything like that before. Draco who had been sexually broken, used and ridiculed more times that he cared to remember. Harry Potter had wanted to succumb to him. It had been a utter disaster, but Harry had stayed with him, taught him, loved him and built him up to the man he was today.
Draco thrusted hard, deeper and deeper until he felt that he was completely buried inside Harry. They both gasped as they climaxed. Draco smeared Harry's come over the hairy chest and licked the running water of his lips. Once more he bit down on the tender skin before him. This man was his, only his, and he'd bloody well let everyone know it.
“Did you take out all the red peppers?” Draco looked over the food on the plate before him.
“Yes,” Harry sat down opposite with his own plate. “And I gave you all my green ones.”
Draco nodded his consent and placed some of the pieces of chicken on a small plate and began cutting it in even smaller pieces. Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Draco ignored him and put the plate on floor next to his chair. Misha, who had been sitting by his leg began eating before Draco even let go of the plate. Zephyr just gave his eager mate a look of reproach and started licking the side of the plate.
“'You are spoiling them',” said Draco.
“What?” Harry looked up from his food.
“That is what you were going to say, wasn't it?”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were thinking.”
“So you are a Legilimens now?”
“Don't need to.”
“Well, you are spoiling them.”
Draco took a bite of chicken for his own. His hair was still wet from their shower before. He always let it air dry when there was time, it gave the strands a more natural look. He had tried to do the opposite for Harry's hair, it hadn't worked.
“Nice party last night,” said Harry.
“It was fun,” nodded Draco. “Nice place.”
“You know... It's only three months to our one year anniversary of moving in together.”
“Two months, two weeks and a three days,” corrected Draco.
“Don't you remember? It was the day we found Misha. It's his official birthday.”
“We need to celebrate it.”
“You are giving a cat a birthday celebration? Now who's the spoiler?”
“You know what I mean,” laughed Harry.
“I always do,” smiled Draco.
Their feet were entwined under the table.