Fran's story archive - Shampoo
This morning I went to the hairdressers and that reminded me of a story I wrote for aome’s birthday about two years ago. I don’t appear to have archived it here yet, so here goes.
The smut in the cut is NC17, it is slash, it is Harry/Draco and there isn’t much of a plot. You have been warned. Please excuse my spelling mistakes.
A WARNING: Please don’t read this in places you might get embarrassed if someone else should read it over your shoulder!
“It will be interesting to hear you explain about the bubbles”
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. You know the place. Nice little cottage, which is shaped like a cross. There is a spare bedroom in the converted attic and anti-location spells all around the house and garden.
The time: 2nd July 2002. Tuesday morning.
The Place: The little bathroom just off the master bedroom.
Harry’s eyes were closed and he was leaning back, neck resting against the hard edge of the washbasin. The soft towel round his shoulders protected his skin from the porcelain’s coldness and a quick spell cushioned his neck from the hard edge. One of his hands gripped at the edge of the chair on which he sat naked, while the other held the edges of the towel.
“I could do this in the shower.”
The head-back position exposed his throat completely and at that moment he was concentrating on the passage of fingers as they moved with tantalising slowness over the column of his neck, across his face and into his hair.
“But this is going to be much nicer,” the quiet, deep voice of the room’s other, equally naked occupant answered.
Those same long, slim fingers ran through Harry’s hair, running from root to tip, carefully pulling the strands away from his face until it flowed like a dark wave into the basin. He felt each finger’s journey through the soft silken curls as they carefully teased apart occasional tangles, smoothing playfully.
“Ready?” The voice mumbled against his forehead, lips barely touching the zigzag scar on his forehead.
“Mmmm.”
There was a splash of water as the shower spray was turned on. He felt the jets of hot water needle into his scalp.
“Is that okay? Not too hot?”
“Oh no. That’s just fine.”
Fingers joined the spray, working the water deep into the hair. They pushed though the strands, holding them up to allow the water to reach deep into the thick curls.
The water stopped and he sighed as fingers brushed gently across his forehead. The touch was feather-light and he hardly breathed as they stroked his eyebrows and traced the line of his nose, his lips, his chin. Then they were gone, leaving only the sensation of pressure and a tightness in his chest. Eyelids flickered open in a need to at least see Draco if not feel his touch. Green eyes finally met the other’s face. Draco was watching him, the slight smile on his face echoed in his grey eyes.
“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get soap in them.”
Harry settled back again and did as instructed. He waited until finally the familiar slick texture of shampoo was applied to his wet hair. Both of his lover’s hands began to massage his head, fingertips moving with almost painstaking slowness through his hair, scrunching then teasing it until all the strands were covered.
Then Draco began to massage his scalp, an oh-so-familiar sensation that always soothed Harry when his head ached or when the scar on his forehead sent hard daggers of pain into his skull. That touch coupled with having his hair washed, would send Harry into moments of bliss. The fingertips pushed into the hairline at the base of his neck and began a journey across his skull ... ten points of pressure that moved unhurriedly, pausing to apply a deep pressure before moving onwards. Harry followed their journey, his breathing shallow, as the movements worked the knots of tension from his scalp and left his skin tingling in their wake. Very occasionally he would let out a small cry that could have been from pleasure or pain.
“Did that hurt?”
“A bit, but only in a nice way.” He gave a little mew of pleasure as the fingers found a particularly sensitive spot behind his ears. “That’s not my shampoo is it?” The words were soft, almost sensual despite their content.
“No. It’s mine.” Draco mirrored his lover’s tone.
Harry jumped as a slick hand briefly touched him, fingers brushing against his penis before they pressed lightly against his entrance. His eyes snapped open, meeting the gaze above him. There was a sparkle in those eyes as his lover bent down slightly and kissed him very slowly, lips firm against his own as the fingers pushed into him with equal determination.
“Don’t you like it?”
Moaning against the mouth, Harry opened his lips in response to the insistent pressure and let in his Draco’s tongue as the fingers invaded below. “Mmmm,” he responded against the other’s mouth. His legs spread wider as he tried to pull the fingers deeper into him as they moved slowly, twisting within him with each thrust. He could smell the shampoo on Draco and on himself; aware of the different scent it left on his own hair and skin. Different, yet oh so familiar.
He was still being kissed when the fingers were removed, leaving him sticky and slick and gasping as Draco trailed his other hand across his chest, pausing to caress each nipple. He arched into the touch, but as quickly as it had started it was gone. Teeth tugged at his lower lip, pulling slightly as they released their hold.
And once more he was alone. He squirmed in the chair, his hands running across his chest and down towards his own growing erection.
“No!” The authoritarian voice stopped Harry in his tracks. Both hands jerked back to the arms of the chair. “No touching. Wait.” The water started to run again, washing away the shampoo, leaving his hair squeaky clean. “Conditioner.” Fingers fiddled with the hair, pulling slightly at the strands, which curled when it was wet.
“Fuck the conditioner.” Harry shook his head like a dog, spraying water over himself and his companion.
“You have to look good for tonight.” A second liquid was worked into the hair, fingers combing it from root to tip before rinsing it away. “Now you smell so good I could shag you right here and now.”
“Oh, I do hope so.” With a smile playing on his face, Harry reached a hand out to grab at his partner. He managed to find a thigh and squeezed at the flesh. “I hope that shampoo is hypoallergenic. I’d hate to have to go to a mediwitch with some strange internal rash and have to explain what I was doing with the shampoo.”
“At least you’re clean. Though it would be interesting to hear you explain about the bubbles.” Harry looked aghast as he tried to see what was clearly making Draco smile, but was held in place as a mouth closed over his nipple again, this time sucking hard. “Besides, I used the conditioner, which is nice and safe. Would I ever put anything inside you that was dangerous?”
Harry grabbed at the blond head as the searching mouth latched onto his other nipple. “Ohhhh, I don’t know. I can think of a couple of things.” His voice faded away as the fingers returned, thrusting into him, moving easily from the slickness within him. “Oh, god, Draco.” He pushed against the invading pressure, his own arms reaching around Draco’s slim shoulders.
“What, my sweet?” The fingers became very still as Draco released his grip on Harry’s nipple. “What do you want?”
“I knew this was a bad idea.” Harry closed the inches that separated them and ran his tongue across Draco’s lips. His hand closed around his lover’s already hard shaft, squeezing gently. “Only you could turn washing someone’s hair into foreplay.”
Draco’s mouth crushed down onto his own, taking his breath away with the intensity of the kiss. A hand grabbed into his wet hair, holding him tightly against the ravishing mouth. He felt trapped between the invading tongue in his mouth and the fingers inside him, which now moved in such a way he felt like he was being tickled. He could do nothing but give in to the sensations assaulting him.
Then there was nothing.
No mouth, no fingers, no touch and Harry let out a whimper as his own hands grabbed frantically for Draco’s now missing form. “No....” Eyes snapped open, his gaze coming to rest on the person in front of him. Draco stood there just watching him, legs akimbo and cock hard, fingers laced behind his neck, his body stretched out, posed like some Greek god in the morning light diffusing through the frosted glass window.
Harry could feel that ice-covered look travelling the length of his own body. The eyes ran from toes to head, slowly appraising him and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He found himself shiver at the predatory gaze that seemed to hold him prisoner in the chair, spread out naked before this man and he knew that Draco could just as easily turn and walk away at any moment, leaving Harry hard and wanting him.
Harry remembered all the times Draco had done just that. How he would kiss him until he was a puddle on the floor of a storage room at school then turn and leave him there. A time when Draco had sucked him to hardness in some corridor just before classes had finished, only to get up from his knees and leave Harry hiding his erection under his robes as a gaggle of First Year students filed past, all clearly in awe of the Boy Who Lived. Or taking Harry over Hermione’s desk in her office and leaving him sitting in that meeting, watching Harry still wet from Draco’s orgasm, desperately unfulfilled and desperately wanting more.
“What do you want?” The words were soft, honey sweet and smooth like melted chocolate.
Licking his lips, Harry did what he always did at times like these. Aware of the way water dripped from his wet hair onto his skin, he cocked his head to one side and looked suitably bashful for a moment. He could almost sense his pupils dilating and his hands slid down his body and parted his legs. “I want you inside me right now.” His hands slid up the inside of his legs and rested in his groin. With deliberate carefulness he didn’t touch himself.
In two strides, Draco was in front of him again, pulling him to his feet. A hand grasped at his bottom, grinding him against Draco’s own erection, while the other hand tangled in his wet hair pulling his head back so that Draco could lick and suck the pulse at his throat. Coming up on his toes to match the other’s height, Harry felt the firmness of Draco’s erection press against his own and he grabbed at his partner’s hips attempting to pull him closer.
But Draco had other ideas. With ease, he hauled Harry from the ground and automatically Harry’s legs hugged around his hips. Arms around his lover’s neck, Harry felt hands lace around his buttocks, holding him as the hard length of Draco’s cock pressed against him. His own cock was trapped between his own belly and Draco as the man carried him through to the bedroom.
---~~~---
Dropping onto a stool, Draco held Harry on his lap and began to slowly kiss at the still bared throat. He could feel the strong thighs gripping his waist; the feel of hands roving blindly across his chest, plucking at nipples and skin, Harry’s erection rubbing against him, his own skin slickened by the impromptu lubrication.
With a growl sounding low in his throat, Draco suddenly gripped at Harry’s arse, pulling him upwards. His free hand reached for his own cock, positioning it before settling Harry onto it’s straining head. He waited as Harry became very still, eyes fixed on the blond’s face. The grip on his waist slackened and Draco began pushing his lover down on him. The green eyes widened and an audible groan escaped Harry’s red, swollen lips as Draco pushed past any resistance and slowly began to fill him inch by inch, until he was fully enclosed within the tight waiting body.
Draco finally breathed again as the familiar pressure closed around him, flesh pulsating within flesh. Then Harry leaned back slightly, rocking his hips against Draco’s, tightening muscles about the shaft that filled and possessed him. The resulting groan was audible and fingers clutched at Harry’s arse, lifting him up, only to pull him back down again, harder and longer strokes with each rise and fall.
“God, you feel so good,” he murmured against Harry’s throat. “So fucking good.”
“Please...” Harry pushed against him, wanting stimulation to his own desperate cock, its slick head rubbing against Draco’s abdomen, almost fucking his navel. “Draco, please...”
Pulling Harry down on him again, Draco held him there for a moment. He was so close ... the tightness ... the way Harry’s muscles wrapped around him ... the way Harry’s balls pressed against his own. “Hold on,” he finally whispered.
Arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist and buttocks clenched about his cock, Draco stood. He was aware that he was shaking with effort; shaking with the need to keep his own orgasm from spilling over.
He lowered Harry onto the huge bed, his lover’s body almost hanging over the edge. Arms dropped from his neck, but the legs, strong from years of flying, still gripped around him, now attempting to push Draco deeper into him. To Draco it felt like he was being sucked in and he began to push harder and deeper with each stroke. Beneath him, he was aware of Harry’s throaty cries as each thrust hit that sensitive spot deep within him, sending bolts of lightning through him.
As Harry climaxed, untouched, he dragged Draco down into a kiss, desperate to have this other person’s tongue fucking his mouth as his cock fucked his arse. He felt Draco finally release, pumping his seed deep within him as he kept thrusting through his orgasm murmuring sweet endearments of “Oh, fuck,” and “I love you,” against Harry’s skin.
The thrusts slowly became shallower and less forceful and Harry, still gasping for breath, gathered the quaking body in his arms, holding Draco against his own trembling body. He tried to hold Draco inside him as long as possible, wanting to retain that sensation of fullness ... of being part of someone else ... He kissed and licked at his lover’s chest feeling that fast beating heart trapped there. “I love you too,” he spoke to that trapped heartbeat, wanting to reach in and hold Draco ... to keep him safe. Wanting to remain like this forever.
He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he returned to awareness, Draco was lying on his back, spread across the bed and Harry’s head was on the sleeping man’s chest, still close to that heartbeat.
Harry lay there for a moment listening and feeling that beat, now slow and regular instead of fast in the heat of passion. The clock on the bedside table said it was almost midday and he realised they had been asleep for over two hours. He finally pushed himself up and was aware of Draco stirring beneath him. Sleepy eyes opened, the grey almost translucent in wakefulness. “Hello, sweet,” Harry spoke against Draco’s lips as he kissed him.
“Mmmm,” Draco muttered sleepily, completely unaware of how fetching he looked with his blond hair untidily about his head.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if we don’t make a move soon we’ll miss our Portkey slot for America.”
Draco blinked as if trying to understand what on earth Harry was talking about. “America?”
“Yes. Remember the reason you were washing my hair. Debbie’s birthday party.” Harry reached out a hand and pushed the hair from Draco’s eyes. “Debbie ... brilliant Gryffindor Chaser ... who once caught the Snitch just as you were going for it.”
The colour seemed to return to Draco’s eyes as the memory of the incident coalesced in his mind. How could he forget that sixth year match? A Slytherin Chaser had knocked Harry off his broom and Draco had gone for the Snitch, only to have Debbie pluck it from the air two feet in front of him. Pandemonium had raged as people tried to find out whether there was a rule covering the Snitch being caught by someone else.
“Of course, Debbie.” Draco finally muttered, a look on his face, which Harry hadn’t seen in many years.
Harry climbed from the bed and stretched, aware of Draco watching him. “We’ve got about an hour to get ready.”
“Ummm.”
“And...” Harry leaned forward and took hold of Draco’s hands. “I think I need my hair washed again.”
---Fin
July 2002
The smut in the cut is NC17, it is slash, it is Harry/Draco and there isn’t much of a plot. You have been warned. Please excuse my spelling mistakes.
A WARNING: Please don’t read this in places you might get embarrassed if someone else should read it over your shoulder!
“It will be interesting to hear you explain about the bubbles”
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. You know the place. Nice little cottage, which is shaped like a cross. There is a spare bedroom in the converted attic and anti-location spells all around the house and garden.
The time: 2nd July 2002. Tuesday morning.
The Place: The little bathroom just off the master bedroom.
Harry’s eyes were closed and he was leaning back, neck resting against the hard edge of the washbasin. The soft towel round his shoulders protected his skin from the porcelain’s coldness and a quick spell cushioned his neck from the hard edge. One of his hands gripped at the edge of the chair on which he sat naked, while the other held the edges of the towel.
“I could do this in the shower.”
The head-back position exposed his throat completely and at that moment he was concentrating on the passage of fingers as they moved with tantalising slowness over the column of his neck, across his face and into his hair.
“But this is going to be much nicer,” the quiet, deep voice of the room’s other, equally naked occupant answered.
Those same long, slim fingers ran through Harry’s hair, running from root to tip, carefully pulling the strands away from his face until it flowed like a dark wave into the basin. He felt each finger’s journey through the soft silken curls as they carefully teased apart occasional tangles, smoothing playfully.
“Ready?” The voice mumbled against his forehead, lips barely touching the zigzag scar on his forehead.
“Mmmm.”
There was a splash of water as the shower spray was turned on. He felt the jets of hot water needle into his scalp.
“Is that okay? Not too hot?”
“Oh no. That’s just fine.”
Fingers joined the spray, working the water deep into the hair. They pushed though the strands, holding them up to allow the water to reach deep into the thick curls.
The water stopped and he sighed as fingers brushed gently across his forehead. The touch was feather-light and he hardly breathed as they stroked his eyebrows and traced the line of his nose, his lips, his chin. Then they were gone, leaving only the sensation of pressure and a tightness in his chest. Eyelids flickered open in a need to at least see Draco if not feel his touch. Green eyes finally met the other’s face. Draco was watching him, the slight smile on his face echoed in his grey eyes.
“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get soap in them.”
Harry settled back again and did as instructed. He waited until finally the familiar slick texture of shampoo was applied to his wet hair. Both of his lover’s hands began to massage his head, fingertips moving with almost painstaking slowness through his hair, scrunching then teasing it until all the strands were covered.
Then Draco began to massage his scalp, an oh-so-familiar sensation that always soothed Harry when his head ached or when the scar on his forehead sent hard daggers of pain into his skull. That touch coupled with having his hair washed, would send Harry into moments of bliss. The fingertips pushed into the hairline at the base of his neck and began a journey across his skull ... ten points of pressure that moved unhurriedly, pausing to apply a deep pressure before moving onwards. Harry followed their journey, his breathing shallow, as the movements worked the knots of tension from his scalp and left his skin tingling in their wake. Very occasionally he would let out a small cry that could have been from pleasure or pain.
“Did that hurt?”
“A bit, but only in a nice way.” He gave a little mew of pleasure as the fingers found a particularly sensitive spot behind his ears. “That’s not my shampoo is it?” The words were soft, almost sensual despite their content.
“No. It’s mine.” Draco mirrored his lover’s tone.
Harry jumped as a slick hand briefly touched him, fingers brushing against his penis before they pressed lightly against his entrance. His eyes snapped open, meeting the gaze above him. There was a sparkle in those eyes as his lover bent down slightly and kissed him very slowly, lips firm against his own as the fingers pushed into him with equal determination.
“Don’t you like it?”
Moaning against the mouth, Harry opened his lips in response to the insistent pressure and let in his Draco’s tongue as the fingers invaded below. “Mmmm,” he responded against the other’s mouth. His legs spread wider as he tried to pull the fingers deeper into him as they moved slowly, twisting within him with each thrust. He could smell the shampoo on Draco and on himself; aware of the different scent it left on his own hair and skin. Different, yet oh so familiar.
He was still being kissed when the fingers were removed, leaving him sticky and slick and gasping as Draco trailed his other hand across his chest, pausing to caress each nipple. He arched into the touch, but as quickly as it had started it was gone. Teeth tugged at his lower lip, pulling slightly as they released their hold.
And once more he was alone. He squirmed in the chair, his hands running across his chest and down towards his own growing erection.
“No!” The authoritarian voice stopped Harry in his tracks. Both hands jerked back to the arms of the chair. “No touching. Wait.” The water started to run again, washing away the shampoo, leaving his hair squeaky clean. “Conditioner.” Fingers fiddled with the hair, pulling slightly at the strands, which curled when it was wet.
“Fuck the conditioner.” Harry shook his head like a dog, spraying water over himself and his companion.
“You have to look good for tonight.” A second liquid was worked into the hair, fingers combing it from root to tip before rinsing it away. “Now you smell so good I could shag you right here and now.”
“Oh, I do hope so.” With a smile playing on his face, Harry reached a hand out to grab at his partner. He managed to find a thigh and squeezed at the flesh. “I hope that shampoo is hypoallergenic. I’d hate to have to go to a mediwitch with some strange internal rash and have to explain what I was doing with the shampoo.”
“At least you’re clean. Though it would be interesting to hear you explain about the bubbles.” Harry looked aghast as he tried to see what was clearly making Draco smile, but was held in place as a mouth closed over his nipple again, this time sucking hard. “Besides, I used the conditioner, which is nice and safe. Would I ever put anything inside you that was dangerous?”
Harry grabbed at the blond head as the searching mouth latched onto his other nipple. “Ohhhh, I don’t know. I can think of a couple of things.” His voice faded away as the fingers returned, thrusting into him, moving easily from the slickness within him. “Oh, god, Draco.” He pushed against the invading pressure, his own arms reaching around Draco’s slim shoulders.
“What, my sweet?” The fingers became very still as Draco released his grip on Harry’s nipple. “What do you want?”
“I knew this was a bad idea.” Harry closed the inches that separated them and ran his tongue across Draco’s lips. His hand closed around his lover’s already hard shaft, squeezing gently. “Only you could turn washing someone’s hair into foreplay.”
Draco’s mouth crushed down onto his own, taking his breath away with the intensity of the kiss. A hand grabbed into his wet hair, holding him tightly against the ravishing mouth. He felt trapped between the invading tongue in his mouth and the fingers inside him, which now moved in such a way he felt like he was being tickled. He could do nothing but give in to the sensations assaulting him.
Then there was nothing.
No mouth, no fingers, no touch and Harry let out a whimper as his own hands grabbed frantically for Draco’s now missing form. “No....” Eyes snapped open, his gaze coming to rest on the person in front of him. Draco stood there just watching him, legs akimbo and cock hard, fingers laced behind his neck, his body stretched out, posed like some Greek god in the morning light diffusing through the frosted glass window.
Harry could feel that ice-covered look travelling the length of his own body. The eyes ran from toes to head, slowly appraising him and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He found himself shiver at the predatory gaze that seemed to hold him prisoner in the chair, spread out naked before this man and he knew that Draco could just as easily turn and walk away at any moment, leaving Harry hard and wanting him.
Harry remembered all the times Draco had done just that. How he would kiss him until he was a puddle on the floor of a storage room at school then turn and leave him there. A time when Draco had sucked him to hardness in some corridor just before classes had finished, only to get up from his knees and leave Harry hiding his erection under his robes as a gaggle of First Year students filed past, all clearly in awe of the Boy Who Lived. Or taking Harry over Hermione’s desk in her office and leaving him sitting in that meeting, watching Harry still wet from Draco’s orgasm, desperately unfulfilled and desperately wanting more.
“What do you want?” The words were soft, honey sweet and smooth like melted chocolate.
Licking his lips, Harry did what he always did at times like these. Aware of the way water dripped from his wet hair onto his skin, he cocked his head to one side and looked suitably bashful for a moment. He could almost sense his pupils dilating and his hands slid down his body and parted his legs. “I want you inside me right now.” His hands slid up the inside of his legs and rested in his groin. With deliberate carefulness he didn’t touch himself.
In two strides, Draco was in front of him again, pulling him to his feet. A hand grasped at his bottom, grinding him against Draco’s own erection, while the other hand tangled in his wet hair pulling his head back so that Draco could lick and suck the pulse at his throat. Coming up on his toes to match the other’s height, Harry felt the firmness of Draco’s erection press against his own and he grabbed at his partner’s hips attempting to pull him closer.
But Draco had other ideas. With ease, he hauled Harry from the ground and automatically Harry’s legs hugged around his hips. Arms around his lover’s neck, Harry felt hands lace around his buttocks, holding him as the hard length of Draco’s cock pressed against him. His own cock was trapped between his own belly and Draco as the man carried him through to the bedroom.
---~~~---
Dropping onto a stool, Draco held Harry on his lap and began to slowly kiss at the still bared throat. He could feel the strong thighs gripping his waist; the feel of hands roving blindly across his chest, plucking at nipples and skin, Harry’s erection rubbing against him, his own skin slickened by the impromptu lubrication.
With a growl sounding low in his throat, Draco suddenly gripped at Harry’s arse, pulling him upwards. His free hand reached for his own cock, positioning it before settling Harry onto it’s straining head. He waited as Harry became very still, eyes fixed on the blond’s face. The grip on his waist slackened and Draco began pushing his lover down on him. The green eyes widened and an audible groan escaped Harry’s red, swollen lips as Draco pushed past any resistance and slowly began to fill him inch by inch, until he was fully enclosed within the tight waiting body.
Draco finally breathed again as the familiar pressure closed around him, flesh pulsating within flesh. Then Harry leaned back slightly, rocking his hips against Draco’s, tightening muscles about the shaft that filled and possessed him. The resulting groan was audible and fingers clutched at Harry’s arse, lifting him up, only to pull him back down again, harder and longer strokes with each rise and fall.
“God, you feel so good,” he murmured against Harry’s throat. “So fucking good.”
“Please...” Harry pushed against him, wanting stimulation to his own desperate cock, its slick head rubbing against Draco’s abdomen, almost fucking his navel. “Draco, please...”
Pulling Harry down on him again, Draco held him there for a moment. He was so close ... the tightness ... the way Harry’s muscles wrapped around him ... the way Harry’s balls pressed against his own. “Hold on,” he finally whispered.
Arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist and buttocks clenched about his cock, Draco stood. He was aware that he was shaking with effort; shaking with the need to keep his own orgasm from spilling over.
He lowered Harry onto the huge bed, his lover’s body almost hanging over the edge. Arms dropped from his neck, but the legs, strong from years of flying, still gripped around him, now attempting to push Draco deeper into him. To Draco it felt like he was being sucked in and he began to push harder and deeper with each stroke. Beneath him, he was aware of Harry’s throaty cries as each thrust hit that sensitive spot deep within him, sending bolts of lightning through him.
As Harry climaxed, untouched, he dragged Draco down into a kiss, desperate to have this other person’s tongue fucking his mouth as his cock fucked his arse. He felt Draco finally release, pumping his seed deep within him as he kept thrusting through his orgasm murmuring sweet endearments of “Oh, fuck,” and “I love you,” against Harry’s skin.
The thrusts slowly became shallower and less forceful and Harry, still gasping for breath, gathered the quaking body in his arms, holding Draco against his own trembling body. He tried to hold Draco inside him as long as possible, wanting to retain that sensation of fullness ... of being part of someone else ... He kissed and licked at his lover’s chest feeling that fast beating heart trapped there. “I love you too,” he spoke to that trapped heartbeat, wanting to reach in and hold Draco ... to keep him safe. Wanting to remain like this forever.
He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he returned to awareness, Draco was lying on his back, spread across the bed and Harry’s head was on the sleeping man’s chest, still close to that heartbeat.
Harry lay there for a moment listening and feeling that beat, now slow and regular instead of fast in the heat of passion. The clock on the bedside table said it was almost midday and he realised they had been asleep for over two hours. He finally pushed himself up and was aware of Draco stirring beneath him. Sleepy eyes opened, the grey almost translucent in wakefulness. “Hello, sweet,” Harry spoke against Draco’s lips as he kissed him.
“Mmmm,” Draco muttered sleepily, completely unaware of how fetching he looked with his blond hair untidily about his head.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if we don’t make a move soon we’ll miss our Portkey slot for America.”
Draco blinked as if trying to understand what on earth Harry was talking about. “America?”
“Yes. Remember the reason you were washing my hair. Debbie’s birthday party.” Harry reached out a hand and pushed the hair from Draco’s eyes. “Debbie ... brilliant Gryffindor Chaser ... who once caught the Snitch just as you were going for it.”
The colour seemed to return to Draco’s eyes as the memory of the incident coalesced in his mind. How could he forget that sixth year match? A Slytherin Chaser had knocked Harry off his broom and Draco had gone for the Snitch, only to have Debbie pluck it from the air two feet in front of him. Pandemonium had raged as people tried to find out whether there was a rule covering the Snitch being caught by someone else.
“Of course, Debbie.” Draco finally muttered, a look on his face, which Harry hadn’t seen in many years.
Harry climbed from the bed and stretched, aware of Draco watching him. “We’ve got about an hour to get ready.”
“Ummm.”
“And...” Harry leaned forward and took hold of Draco’s hands. “I think I need my hair washed again.”
---Fin
July 2002