Chapter 14
In Which We See a Number of Things Inappropriate for Young Children

Things proceeded rather quickly after that, the other students bustling them out the door with some very disturbing bits of advice. They walked hand in hand down the corridor, and Harry suddenly felt very nervous in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the Dark Lord, and everything to do with, as Hermione put it, losing his purity. "I honestly thought you'd fight it more," said Harry with a little half-smile.

"Sorry I freaked in the field," said Draco, by way of explanation. "Did Snape tell you why the kiss worked?"

Harry blinked. "Er, no?"

Draco sighed. "Snape's just being a git. The secondary thing, with the tears, it only worked because you actually love me, and there was an answering love in our kiss."

Harry blinked, then stopped. "Are you telling me you love me?"

Draco grinned, then kissed him gently. Harry's lips were tingling when he pulled away, and his body was suddenly much less nervous and more enthused. "I should think that would be bloody obvious by now."

"Well, yeah," said Harry, kissing him back for the sheer joy of being allowed to do it. "But it's nice to hear."

Draco smiled, tugging him along. "Idiot. I love you. Are you happy now?"

Harry grinned, feeling like his chest might burst and spill happiness all over the corridor. "Yes. Very."

Draco snorted. They came to his door, and the nervousness returned. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" said Draco, opening it. "I mean, we can just sleep for a few more nights, if..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Seventeen, remember? Just hurry up and shag me, already."

They tumbled inside in a rush of laughter and nervous energy. "Er, how should we..." asked Harry, once the door was closed and things grew awkward again.

"How about we get back to where we left off?" said Draco, pulling Harry into his arms.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled, threading his hands through Draco's hair and letting himself go, letting himself feel. Their lips met, and this time the warmth didn't wait, it spilled out of both of them like it knew their intent. They were wrapped in a cocoon of power, and it brought them both to readiness between heartbeats. Their tongues entwined and the magic was like honey, adding an earthy, sticky sweetness to the half-remembered flavours of Draco's mouth.

They kissed like feeding, nipping at lips already swollen with desire, licking and biting until Harry's body thrummed with pent-up need. His hands slid down Draco's back and he was rewarded with a low moan. He pulled away long enough to whisper, "You're wearing my clothes," before diving back in to suck love bites onto the graceful column of Draco's neck.

"It's only - ah! - fair," Draco gasped out, hands pulling at Harry's sweatshirt as though to rip it off his body. Harry cooperated by sliding his hands under Draco's sweater, pulling upwards and away so they were left with their hands tangled in a ball of green and grey cloth. They laughed, and tugged, and were back chest-to-chest, bare skin touching in a long, hot line. All the breath went out of him, and the kiss this time was tender, and full of promise.

Harry's hands couldn't seem to get enough of Draco's skin, exploring the smooth scars, scraping nails across them just to feel him shudder, pressing into muscle and tracing the delicate bones of his spine. Draco was drawing patterns on Harry, distracting designs that burned into his skin and left him panting. This time it was Draco who broke the kiss to trail a wet stripe down Harry's chest with his tongue, ending on his knees with his face pressed to Harry's denim-clad hip.

"Draco," said Harry reverently, fingers running tender of Draco's cheekbone, gaze drowning in liquid, quicksilver eyes. Draco turned his cheek, captured two of Harry's fingers between lips gone red and soft, and Harry moaned again as they slid into that welcoming wetness. He twitched as Draco's tongue flicked out, teasing along the line between them, and wondered how long he'd last, and how many chances they'd have before time caught up with them.

Draco released his fingers with a knowing smile, and Harry repeated his earlier caress, this time leaving a wet tracery in his wake. Draco reached up and popped the first button, and Harry gasped. Draco pressed his hand against Harry's length, sliding his palm down as he popped three more buttons, nimble fingers there to catch him as he fell out, still trapped in the soft cotton of his boxers. He bit his lip to keep from finishing right there, from the look on Draco's face and the feel of his touch where it was most wanted, most needed.

"I want to eat you alive," said Draco softly, nuzzling against Harry's flesh. His eyes were wide, uncertain, as if somehow he thought he still had to ask permission. Harry nodded wordlessly, hands tangling in Draco's hair. Draco smiled a promise and slid his pants down, slipped off his socks and shoes deftly, leaving him standing by the door, naked and ready. Draco devoured him with eyes alone at first, hands fallen to his sides as he knelt on the cold stone of the floor.

Harry opened his mouth to suggest they move to the bed, and Draco pounced on him, catlike, shoving him up against the rough wood of the door. He licked a long, hot streak of pleasure up Harry's entire length, and Harry's knees were suddenly glad of the extra support. Draco slid his hands up Harry's thighs, thumbs teasing along the insides of them, and he found himself spreading wider as they brushed against his balls. His eyes kept wanting to fall shut, his head to tumble back against the door, but he forced himself to watch as Draco's mouth and hands began his undoing.

Draco's mouth opened wide while his fingers slid between Harry's legs, the other hand braced against his hip, thumb caressing distracting circles in the hollow. He lifted Harry's sac to his mouth, sucking his balls one at a time into bliss. His tongue traced patterns only he understood, finding every spot that made Harry cry out, and his hand worked slowly back, pressing and caressing, until his opening was begging for Draco to stop teasing and finally touch, take, invade.

A finger pressed against him, working tiny circles to ease him open, just as Draco's mouth finally travelled back up to where it was most needed. His lips closed around the head, lapping at the fluid there, and Harry moaned as though he might die. When Draco moved his mouth further down, taking Harry in, his own body welcomed Draco's as well, flaring open so the finger could ease its way inside. Harry finally let his head fall back, hands clawing at the wood behind him in an effort not to finish too quickly.

Draco wrapped his other hand around the base of Harry's cock and began to move, sucking, caressing with his tongue, tugging with his fist until Harry's head spun. His finger had worked slowly, easing inside of Harry's body until it felt like it belonged. Harry could hear whimpers and moans, cries and gasps, and he knew somehow they were Draco's doing, these unfamiliar sounds escaping his lips. Then Draco moved his finger, scraped his teeth ever so lightly, and Harry was lost.

Something sparked inside him, tension reaching flashpoint, release rushing over him like the roar of flame, hot and bright and undeniable. He might have screamed, knew when his hips snapped forward of their own accord, forcing himself as deep as he could go. Draco's throat moved around him, against him, taking his offering and drinking it down. His hands had found their way back to Draco's hair, and they were holding on like a lifeline when the fire burned out and left him nothing but spent ashes.

Draco's hands freed him, slid up to hold him even as Draco was sliding up Harry's body, pressing himself against him, demanding a kiss. He tasted like the ocean, salty and bitter and alive, and Harry whimpered at the knowledge that it was himself he tasted. He scrabbled at Draco's pants, still clumsy from orgasm. Draco made an impatient noise in his throat and shoved his hands away, ripping the fly open and sliding his remaining clothing off in one swift move.

Harry gasped when he came back up, kisses feral, body hot and hard against Harry's limp form. "You're mine, Potter," he growled, biting at Harry's shoulder, teeth a deep, satisfying ache above his collarbone. He was already beginning to return to life, and he knew now what he wanted.

"Not all yours yet," he said, shoving Draco away from the wall and following him so closely their bodies never lost contact. "Finish it," he challenged, pressing his lover against the bed.

"Pushy," said Draco, eyes dark and sparkling with mischief and desire. "So eager to be deflowered?"

Harry grinned back, leaning so his eyes could travel over Draco's naked form. "Wouldn't you be?"

Draco laughed, then flipped them around, surprising Harry by pinning him to the bed. His cock was wet with precome, sliding against Harry's hip like hot steel, but the fire in his gaze burned hotter, like the centre of a forge. "Get in bed," Draco ordered, and Harry was too overwhelmed by what he'd seen in Draco's eyes not to comply.

Draco rummaged through the nightstand, making little noises of frustration while he searched. Harry shoved the blankets off and lay back against the pillows, hands stroking his chest idly while he watched. Draco was like a caged animal, raw and rampant, waiting for the right moment to strike. He finally found what he was looking for, holding a small vial up to the light, and Harry tensed, waiting for him to pounce.

Instead he slunk like a great cat, all grace and coiled tension, bottle cradled in one hand. "Spread," he growled, kneeling in the space between when Harry hastily complied. This was the Draco that he played Quidditch against, that he'd felt pressed against him last time they'd had a fistfight. Dark. Fierce. Passionate.

"What..." Harry started to ask, gaze flickering from intense eyes, to vial, to the shaft ready and waiting to pierce his tender flesh. Draco shook his head, something in his face pleading with Harry to keep silent, follow orders, be what Draco needed. Harry complied, leaning back against the pillows, canting his hips upward in invitation. He was hard again already, the joy of being seventeen, of being in love.

Draco opened the vial, traced the stopper along Harry's skin, then poured some of the contents into his hand. He slicked himself first until he shone in the candlelight, like some kind of pagan god. Then his fingers drifted up Harry's thigh, trailing coolness in their wake, and Harry's legs fell open even wider, inviting, asking, begging with the tilt of his hips and the hunger in his eyes. Draco smiled, dark and wild, and for that moment he looked like a creature of myth, an incubus or some other fey being of lust and moonlight.

Harry's hands were drifting, tugging at a nipple, tracing the muscles in his stomach. Draco knelt forward, slick hand cupping, exploring that hidden space behind Harry's balls, sliding over his hole in a tantalizing tease. He leaned up for a kiss, his other hand capturing Harry's wrists one at a time, pressing them above his head. When he'd stolen Harry's breath, left him dazed and panting with the press of mouths and fingers, he pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, "Stay."

Harry complied, keeping his hands above his head and instead arching his back until their bodies touched, green eyes locked with Draco's dark gaze. Lust had tarnished the bright silver colour, turning them into the dangerous sheen of gunmetal, and he moaned when Draco's fingers, two this time, breached him with a strange tenderness. Draco pushed in almost roughly, sliding his hips against Harry's so their lengths collided, spreading slickness over his stomach in a mix of oil and precome.

"Mine," whispered Draco, breath like feathers against Harry's cheek. He followed it with teeth, closing ever so gently below his eye, scraping lightly down to bite almost savagely at the pulse in his neck.

"Yours," moaned Harry, as the fingers slid in and out, spreading him apart. A third joined them with a twist just this side of vicious, and Harry let his eyes close, giving up sight for sensation.

Draco's mouth moved down and over, and Harry whimpered at the loss of his warmth, then cried out when teeth closed over a nipple. The pain was sharp, immediate, and brought an echoing pulse of warmth from his cock, answering questions about himself he'd never thought to ask. He flicked his tongue out, licking over lips gone suddenly dry, and was rewarded with the scrape of Draco's tongue against his abused nipple. He jerked, and nails scratched down his side in thin lines of fire that a part of him hoped would leave marks.

He whimpered again when Draco's fingers pulled away, this time in anticipation. His legs were spread wider than he'd thought they could go, and Draco pushed them up and out even further, exposing him. Long fingers teased at the backs of his knees, and he twitched again when hot breath blew over his hole. He opened his eyes long enough to see Draco staring intently at his face, to watch the pink tongue flick out and circle his opening. Harry gasped, then cried out, "Draco!" when that agile tongue slipped inside.

He lost it, then, eyes wild, struggling against bonds that didn't exist, pushing against the press of Draco's hands only enough to feel restrained by them. Draco slid his tongue in and out of Harry's body, a thing Harry hadn't known was possible until he'd felt the raw pleasure of it washing his brain free of anything but this desperate need. "Please," he begged, the word falling from his lips of its own accord. Harry wouldn't even have known what to beg for at this point, let alone how to ask.

Draco answered by licking upwards, over his balls, up his cock, a special flick of tongue on the head making him gasp. Then up over his stomach, dipping into his navel, following the line of his sternum to his throat, finding his lips just as his cock found Harry's slick hole. He slid into Harry with a single smooth thrust of hips and tongue, taking his mouth and his body in one demanding motion. Harry might have moaned, but his cries were swallowed in the passion of their kiss, the oil slick and almost spicy on his lips.

Harry had never been filled before, had nothing to compare to the heat and weight and rightness of it. He simply accepted Draco into his body, wrapping his legs around Draco's back when the hands left them to tangle instead in Harry's hair. He shifted his hips and rubbed against that sparking place, making Harry arch and gasp beneath him. He growled and did it again, and again, thrusting into the depths of him like he wanted to bury himself in Harry and never come out.

Harry wanted nothing, driven beyond need and desire and drowning in the sticky heat of love and magic and Draco. His entire body tingled like electricity ran along his skin, and he thought he might be content to stay like this forever. Draco took him, claimed him, so much more than he'd thought it would be even in his newest fantasies. Draco's hand was back on his wrists, pressing him into the pillows, the other holding his chin so Draco could ravage his mouth as he pounded into his body.

Harry was helpless, boneless, pleasure pouring through him and over him like an ocean. He rode the waves of it, never quite reaching a peak but climbing higher and higher each time, until he was dizzy with ecstasy. His nerves were pulled taut as a wire, energy running along them, waiting for that final strike of lightning that would make him snap. The punishing rhythm drove his heartbeat, each stroke making his blood rush faster through his veins.

The rhythm grew ragged and Harry felt his heart faltering, fluttering in the cage of his chest like it was trying to break free. Draco was panting now, little tiny groans at the peak of each thrust, and Harry could feel that shining precipice grow closer and closer until Draco's head snapped back, eyes wide and sightless. Three things happened, then, that Harry would never forget.

His heartbeat seemed to pull loose from his chest and bury itself in Draco's in a rush of power like sticking his fingers in a light socket. Heat pulsed into his ass, striking that spark inside as Draco poured his pleasure into Harry's body. Fire poured out of his cock, long streams that felt like molten metal where they struck his stomach. They both screamed wordlessly as the magic brought them together, welding them into a new thing never to be broken apart.

Harry was never quite sure if they blacked out or just felt like they'd spent an eternity suspended in that moment of perfection. When he came back to himself, Draco was still inside him, pulsing gently in time to their shared heartbeat. He had released Harry's hands, falling limply against him, face buried in his throat. Harry could feel the joy, the fear, the love and the tiny splash of guilt that coloured everything in Draco's mind. "Thank you," said Harry softly, wonderingly.

The guilt flared, then died, leaving behind the warmth of shared love, the ever-present worry for the future, and the soft pulse of pleasure not yet faded. "I should be thanking you," whispered Draco, the words a shiver against his sweat-sheened flesh.

"Naah," said Harry, wrapping his arms around Draco, shifting himself just enough to keep them together, comfortably joined, but take the strain off hips that ached from the unaccustomed position. "I'd've never have had that oil stuff lying around, let alone had any idea what to do with it."

Draco laughed softly, curling himself deeper into Harry's embrace. "You know I only keep it around for..." he made the absurdly familiar gesture, and a wealth of images exploded into Harry's brain, of Draco laid out on this very bed, touching himself.

"Oh."

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" said Draco moving his hips just enough that Harry could feel he was still hard, still ready, like Harry himself. "Thinking about me tossing off."

Harry pinked ever so slightly, but said, "It's only fair, you got to watch me."

"You were lovely," he whispered, licking the sweat from Harry's neck like a cat. "I couldn't believe the great Harry Potter came calling my name with three fingers in his ass."

Harry turned quite a bit pinker, and his body tightened at the memory, making Draco gasp. "I thought you couldn't see that much."

"I lied," Draco murmured, nibbling at Harry's ear. "I came straight here and had one off the wrist, wondering if you'd show up and catch me at it."

"Quick," said Harry teasingly. "Good thing you got that out of your system."

Draco gave another thrust, sparking pleasure and just a touch of soreness in Harry's body, making him moan. "I'll never get you out of my system."

"Mmm, good," said Harry, turning for a long, deep kiss. "This mean you'll shag me again?"

Draco laughed, then murmured against his lips. "Already am."

It was no surprise to anyone when they were both late to class the next morning.