HAPPY H/D HOLIDAYS, MOONLITDARK!
Author: dm_p
Recipient: moonlitdark
Title: Those Who Stay
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, implied Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry and Draco have an arrangement.
Rating:NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): PWP. Infidelity, depending on how you look at it.
Epilogue compliant? Post Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue.
Word Count: 2,482
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy this, moonlitdark. I tried to fit in a lot of your likes, have fun spotting them. This was great fun to write. Happy H/D Holidays! I also wanted to give a huge shoutout to the lovely mods of this exchange. I'm so pleased to have been involved.
So let the memories be good for those who stay.
Mumford and Sons
The pub was nondescript. It could have been any number of pubs that Harry Potter tended to frequent, pubs that skirted the line between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He tended to forget their names, especially after he had a few drinks under his belt.
It never stopped Draco Malfoy from finding him. Harry had long ago stopped being surprised when he would appear at his shoulder holding another drink looking too close to apologetic for comfort. Draco never managed to match Harry in drink and would remain on the sober side of the scale. He had once explained it was because of his fair colouring and a genetic disposition towards being able to hold his alcohol, but Harry still suspected he was purposefully holding back.
And so he devised a plan. The next time he met Draco-- because when he stopped lying to himself when he left for the pub straight from work rather than returning home to have dinner with Ginny, he would acknowledge that he was indeed meeting Draco-- he was going to ensure that Draco would be the drunker of the two of them.
He would see just how well Draco held his liquor.
---
Harry was still nursing his second pint when Draco entered, hair perfectly in place and smirk intact. He no longer acted surprised when he saw Harry. They both understood their arrangement, even if they had never expressly discussed it. "Evening Potter. It's a lager night, I see."
"I don't know what that means," Harry said, frowning at the glass in his hand. "What, does drinking lager mean I'm...suffering from inner turmoil or something?"
"It usually means your mulling over something you find terribly important," Draco said, sitting on his stool as he accepted the double gin and tonic Harry had waiting for him. "Of course, what you seem to think is terribly important rarely is."
"I'm fairly certain that's a form of inner turmoil," Harry said as he watched Draco polish off half of the drink in one go, showing no sign that he noticed it was more gin heavy than usual.
Draco rolled his eyes, spinning his chair so he could lean against the bar, his elbows propped up on the edge. "It's only inner turmoil if what you find yourself mulling over is something you think you shouldn't find terribly important, but you do anyway."
Harry felt his cheeks burn and he polished off the rest of his drink. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a little cough, laying his head down on the bar. He was pleased to note that Draco swiveled towards him slightly, canting his body closer as he finished off his first drink.
"Shall I buy you another drink?" Draco asked softly, his grey eyes sliding down the curve of Harry's spine. "Are we still playing that particular game, Potter?"
"I haven't won yet," Harry said as Draco motioned for another round, which the bartender quickly supplied. "We're not done playing until I've won."
"So competitive," Draco chided as he bit into the round of cucumber that topped off his drink. "And here I was under the impression that we left our competitive natures on the Quidditch pitch."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You mention Quidditch. Every time. But we never get around to actually getting out our brooms and having a rematch. I mean, I understand. Sitting behind a desk doesn't really lend itself to keeping yourself in peak physical fitness, not like Auror training."
Draco hissed under his breath and finished off his second drink with a vicious gulp. "I have ways of keeping fit, ways that are much more fun that bloody Auror training. If you're in peak physical fitness I'll eat my hat. You're getting pudgy, Potter. That Weasley bint is feeding you up so no one will find you sexually attractive. You're getting complacent."
"She's not a bint," Harry said with a roll of the eye. "And we have a very healthy sex life."
"Just not with each other," Draco said as he wrapped his hands around his next drink.
"We have an open relationship." Harry lifted his head from the bar as he watched Draco drink his third gin and tonic mindlessly. Like it was nothing. "We talked about it when we started dating again. We're too young to get too serious."
Draco snorted. "You may have talked about it, but if she knew you were actually utilizing the 'open' part of the relationship she'd be furious." Draco's face was starting to colour, and Harry smirked to himself as he took a sip of his lager. Three double gin and tonics was about double what Draco would usually consume when they met up. And he was motioning for a fourth.
"You don't know that," Harry said as he watched Draco begin to stroke his own thigh slowly, his fingers lingering on the seams.
"I know that she wanted to keep your relationship open so she can fuck the Keeper of her Quidditch team and not feel guilty," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "She assumes you are so helplessly in love with her that you would agree and stay monogamous until you propose marriage. I'm sure she's tried to convince herself that she would break off her affair at that point, but we both know that wouldn't be the case." Draco paused, pursed his lips, and frowned at his drink. "I should have eaten something today. You seem to have got me a bit drunk, Potter. Clever."
Harry chuckled. "I thought so. I just hope you're not too drunk at this point. I don't want you blacking out on me." Draco's pupils were blown as he looked over at Harry, his brow furrowed. Harry polished off his lager and licked his lips, pleased when Draco's gaze followed the path of his tongue. "I plan to take advantage of you. If your amenable."
"I'm not sure if...if it's taking advantage if I'm...amenable," Draco said, swaying on his stool a bit. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tightened his grip on his thighs. "I lisp when I'm drunk. I hate it."
Harry stood up and crossed in front of Draco, holding out his hands. "I had noticed that, yeah. It's charming. Come on, dance with me. I've never convinced you before."
"It's not going to work now," Draco said, shaking his head even as he took Harry's hands. "I can't dance."
"You can," Harry argued, pulling him to his feet. Draco's arms went around his waist instinctively, sliding over his lower back before dipping under the hem of Harry's untucked shirt. Harry's skin felt unbearably warm against the palms of his hands, and Draco lowered his head to his shoulder, his nose resting against the pulse point on Harry's neck. "Everyone can dance, Malfoy."
Instead of replying, Draco pressed an open-mouthed kiss over Harry's skin before licking a hot line along his jaw. "I'd rather fuck you," Draco said, his fingernails digging into Harry's soft side. He pressed his thigh between Harry's legs and smiled against his skin. "And you'd rather I fuck you. I have evidence to support that conclusion."
"What sort of monster have I unleashed?" Harry asked no one in particular, suddenly breathless. This was working out better than he had anticipated. "Come on Malfoy, we're in public. At least wait...wait until...oh fuck..." The last words were lost inside Draco's mouth, his tongue pressed against his soft palate. He did his best to extricate himself from Draco's grip, even as he groaned his protest. "Stop, stop, let's get a room, yeah? Come on."
"I don't want to get a room," Draco sighed, swaying a bit. "Oh, I feel strange. Very strange. You didn't slip me a potion, did you?"
"Of course not," Harry said, shaking his head as he took one of Draco's hands and started leading him towards the door. "You just drank quite a lot of gin in a very short amount of time. You're fine. I've got you, yeah?"
Draco didn't fight Harry as he was lead out of the pub. "I hate being pissed," Draco spat, shaking his head a bit as he laced his fingers together with Harry's. "I don't know why you like it so much, it's terrible. I mean...I acknowledge that you'd probably not be able to work up the nerve to have sex with me otherwise, you and your strange guilt complex, at least you've got...something to blame it on in the end. Drunken sex. Excusable. Even repeated drunken sex."
Harry tugged Draco further, rolling his eyes as he watched the other man fumble with a pack of cigarettes he pulled from his pocket. "I didn't think it was possible for you to talk any more than you already do."
"Oral fixation," Draco slurred before he placed a fag between his lips and lit it with trembling fingers. "You're fixated on my mouth. Obviously. I suspect you're in love with me."
Harry stilled, rounding on him slightly as he tugged his hand free. "Do you really?"
Draco took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nostrils. "Of course. To be fair, most people that I fuck tend to feel that way. I would say it's a character flaw that I have, but I'm not sure it counts. People are rarely indifferent when it comes to the Malfoys."
"I love Ginny," Harry said, feeling suddenly angry. "I can't deal with you sober. That's the problem. I have to be drunk to be stupid enough to talk to you. I want nothing more than to throttle you right now."
"Nothing?" Draco said, pressing his pinkie finger to his tongue to flick away a bit of loose tobacco that had stuck. "Are you sure about that?"
"I have to pee," Harry hissed, not really needing to but wanting an excuse to get away from Draco. But it didn't work, as he was followed into the alley. Draco leaned against the damp brick wall and closed his eyes, smoking and smirking to himself. "What?" Harry snapped, fumbling with his flies. "What on earth do you have to be so pleased about?"
Draco chuckled and flicked away his still-burning fag. "You have a rather painful erection I gather," he said, pushing himself off the wall and advancing on Harry, slapping his hands away so he could undo Harry's flies. "There's no way you can relieve yourself in that state. So one can only assume that you don't really have to urinate." Harry let his head fall back against the brick as he felt Draco's deft fingers wrap around his erection and pull it through the slit in his pants. His fingers focused on the damp head, pulling Harry's foreskin up to cover the tip before pulling the skin back down so it was exposed again. When Harry's hips jumped forward against his will Draco chuckled. "I can only assume you wanted an excuse to get me in a dark alley and get your pants down. Am I right? Is this part of your plan to take advantage of me?"
Harry held his breath as he watched Draco sink down to his knees, quickly unfastening his own trousers as he slipped a hand into his pants, his bleary eyes locked onto Harry's. "I want to fuck your mouth," Harry said, reaching down to run his fingers through Draco's too-perfect hair, just to see it mussed. Even then, it fell right back into place.
"I want you to fuck my mouth," Draco responded, his tone dark as he leaned forward, pressing Harry's erection to the skin of his cheek. It left a stripe of precome on his cheekbone, and his mouth fell open as he let out a breathless groan. Harry reached down and took the base of his erection in his right hand and the back of Draco's head in his left, bringing them together with a satisfied groan and a hitch of his hips.
When Harry's head spun he knew the lagers weren't to blame. It was Draco Malfoy's mouth, wet and tight around him. He also knew he wouldn't last long without alcohol to dull his senses, and Draco was relentless in his assault, the hand that wasn't frantically working his own erection curled over Harry's hipbone tightly. "I'm gonna come," Harry huffed, and Draco's hum of approval was all it took for Harry to ejaculate over the other man's tongue and down his throat. Every one of his muscles were jumping as he hauled Draco to his feet, licking away the excess saliva that had run down his chin and the taste of his own come from Draco's mouth.
"Touch me," Draco whispered, his voice gravelly as he laid his head on Harry's shoulder. He squeezed his eyes closed as Harry's hand replaced his around his cock, matching the frantic pace he had set. "Yes," he panted, his breath hot and damp against Harry's neck.
"Speak...speak Parseltongue to me," he whispered. "I've always wanted to...to ask you to..."
"Oh fuck, of course," Harry replied in English before he sucked the lobe of Draco's ear into his mouth for a moment, blowing over the wet skin with declarations of love in Parseltongue. He told Draco how much he loved the taste of his skin, the curl of his lip, his ridiculous hair. He told him how he loved it when he laughed, when his eyes would linger on Harry's hands, and when he would nick his glasses on the rare occasions they slept in the same bed. He told him that he loved him over and over until Draco spilled his seed over his fingers, whimpering helplessly as Harry held him upright, talking him down in a language Draco couldn't understand.
Harry spelled them clean as Draco leaned against the wall, methodically righting his clothes before pulling out another fag. Harry nicked it from between his lips and took a long drag before giving it back. Draco's gaze held a mischievous quality. "What did you say, Potter? You sounded maudlin."
Harry leaned against the wall next to him, doing up his own trousers with shaking fingers. "I was calling you a prat every way I know how."
A muscle in the corner of Draco's mouth twitched as he blew smoke rings through swollen lips. "Of course you were."
"I have to go," Harry said. "Are you alright to make it home on your own, or should I take you?"
"I only want you to come with me if you plan on staying," Draco said, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sober. His words had a bit of a sharp edge that he hadn't intended, and Potter's eyes went dark. "Good night, Potter."
He pulled out his wand to Apparate away, and Potter's hand shot out, his fingers locking around his wrist.
Draco grinned, and they disappeared together.
Recipient: moonlitdark
Title: Those Who Stay
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, implied Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry and Draco have an arrangement.
Rating:NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): PWP. Infidelity, depending on how you look at it.
Epilogue compliant? Post Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue.
Word Count: 2,482
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy this, moonlitdark. I tried to fit in a lot of your likes, have fun spotting them. This was great fun to write. Happy H/D Holidays! I also wanted to give a huge shoutout to the lovely mods of this exchange. I'm so pleased to have been involved.
So let the memories be good for those who stay.
Mumford and Sons
The pub was nondescript. It could have been any number of pubs that Harry Potter tended to frequent, pubs that skirted the line between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He tended to forget their names, especially after he had a few drinks under his belt.
It never stopped Draco Malfoy from finding him. Harry had long ago stopped being surprised when he would appear at his shoulder holding another drink looking too close to apologetic for comfort. Draco never managed to match Harry in drink and would remain on the sober side of the scale. He had once explained it was because of his fair colouring and a genetic disposition towards being able to hold his alcohol, but Harry still suspected he was purposefully holding back.
And so he devised a plan. The next time he met Draco-- because when he stopped lying to himself when he left for the pub straight from work rather than returning home to have dinner with Ginny, he would acknowledge that he was indeed meeting Draco-- he was going to ensure that Draco would be the drunker of the two of them.
He would see just how well Draco held his liquor.
---
Harry was still nursing his second pint when Draco entered, hair perfectly in place and smirk intact. He no longer acted surprised when he saw Harry. They both understood their arrangement, even if they had never expressly discussed it. "Evening Potter. It's a lager night, I see."
"I don't know what that means," Harry said, frowning at the glass in his hand. "What, does drinking lager mean I'm...suffering from inner turmoil or something?"
"It usually means your mulling over something you find terribly important," Draco said, sitting on his stool as he accepted the double gin and tonic Harry had waiting for him. "Of course, what you seem to think is terribly important rarely is."
"I'm fairly certain that's a form of inner turmoil," Harry said as he watched Draco polish off half of the drink in one go, showing no sign that he noticed it was more gin heavy than usual.
Draco rolled his eyes, spinning his chair so he could lean against the bar, his elbows propped up on the edge. "It's only inner turmoil if what you find yourself mulling over is something you think you shouldn't find terribly important, but you do anyway."
Harry felt his cheeks burn and he polished off the rest of his drink. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a little cough, laying his head down on the bar. He was pleased to note that Draco swiveled towards him slightly, canting his body closer as he finished off his first drink.
"Shall I buy you another drink?" Draco asked softly, his grey eyes sliding down the curve of Harry's spine. "Are we still playing that particular game, Potter?"
"I haven't won yet," Harry said as Draco motioned for another round, which the bartender quickly supplied. "We're not done playing until I've won."
"So competitive," Draco chided as he bit into the round of cucumber that topped off his drink. "And here I was under the impression that we left our competitive natures on the Quidditch pitch."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You mention Quidditch. Every time. But we never get around to actually getting out our brooms and having a rematch. I mean, I understand. Sitting behind a desk doesn't really lend itself to keeping yourself in peak physical fitness, not like Auror training."
Draco hissed under his breath and finished off his second drink with a vicious gulp. "I have ways of keeping fit, ways that are much more fun that bloody Auror training. If you're in peak physical fitness I'll eat my hat. You're getting pudgy, Potter. That Weasley bint is feeding you up so no one will find you sexually attractive. You're getting complacent."
"She's not a bint," Harry said with a roll of the eye. "And we have a very healthy sex life."
"Just not with each other," Draco said as he wrapped his hands around his next drink.
"We have an open relationship." Harry lifted his head from the bar as he watched Draco drink his third gin and tonic mindlessly. Like it was nothing. "We talked about it when we started dating again. We're too young to get too serious."
Draco snorted. "You may have talked about it, but if she knew you were actually utilizing the 'open' part of the relationship she'd be furious." Draco's face was starting to colour, and Harry smirked to himself as he took a sip of his lager. Three double gin and tonics was about double what Draco would usually consume when they met up. And he was motioning for a fourth.
"You don't know that," Harry said as he watched Draco begin to stroke his own thigh slowly, his fingers lingering on the seams.
"I know that she wanted to keep your relationship open so she can fuck the Keeper of her Quidditch team and not feel guilty," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "She assumes you are so helplessly in love with her that you would agree and stay monogamous until you propose marriage. I'm sure she's tried to convince herself that she would break off her affair at that point, but we both know that wouldn't be the case." Draco paused, pursed his lips, and frowned at his drink. "I should have eaten something today. You seem to have got me a bit drunk, Potter. Clever."
Harry chuckled. "I thought so. I just hope you're not too drunk at this point. I don't want you blacking out on me." Draco's pupils were blown as he looked over at Harry, his brow furrowed. Harry polished off his lager and licked his lips, pleased when Draco's gaze followed the path of his tongue. "I plan to take advantage of you. If your amenable."
"I'm not sure if...if it's taking advantage if I'm...amenable," Draco said, swaying on his stool a bit. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tightened his grip on his thighs. "I lisp when I'm drunk. I hate it."
Harry stood up and crossed in front of Draco, holding out his hands. "I had noticed that, yeah. It's charming. Come on, dance with me. I've never convinced you before."
"It's not going to work now," Draco said, shaking his head even as he took Harry's hands. "I can't dance."
"You can," Harry argued, pulling him to his feet. Draco's arms went around his waist instinctively, sliding over his lower back before dipping under the hem of Harry's untucked shirt. Harry's skin felt unbearably warm against the palms of his hands, and Draco lowered his head to his shoulder, his nose resting against the pulse point on Harry's neck. "Everyone can dance, Malfoy."
Instead of replying, Draco pressed an open-mouthed kiss over Harry's skin before licking a hot line along his jaw. "I'd rather fuck you," Draco said, his fingernails digging into Harry's soft side. He pressed his thigh between Harry's legs and smiled against his skin. "And you'd rather I fuck you. I have evidence to support that conclusion."
"What sort of monster have I unleashed?" Harry asked no one in particular, suddenly breathless. This was working out better than he had anticipated. "Come on Malfoy, we're in public. At least wait...wait until...oh fuck..." The last words were lost inside Draco's mouth, his tongue pressed against his soft palate. He did his best to extricate himself from Draco's grip, even as he groaned his protest. "Stop, stop, let's get a room, yeah? Come on."
"I don't want to get a room," Draco sighed, swaying a bit. "Oh, I feel strange. Very strange. You didn't slip me a potion, did you?"
"Of course not," Harry said, shaking his head as he took one of Draco's hands and started leading him towards the door. "You just drank quite a lot of gin in a very short amount of time. You're fine. I've got you, yeah?"
Draco didn't fight Harry as he was lead out of the pub. "I hate being pissed," Draco spat, shaking his head a bit as he laced his fingers together with Harry's. "I don't know why you like it so much, it's terrible. I mean...I acknowledge that you'd probably not be able to work up the nerve to have sex with me otherwise, you and your strange guilt complex, at least you've got...something to blame it on in the end. Drunken sex. Excusable. Even repeated drunken sex."
Harry tugged Draco further, rolling his eyes as he watched the other man fumble with a pack of cigarettes he pulled from his pocket. "I didn't think it was possible for you to talk any more than you already do."
"Oral fixation," Draco slurred before he placed a fag between his lips and lit it with trembling fingers. "You're fixated on my mouth. Obviously. I suspect you're in love with me."
Harry stilled, rounding on him slightly as he tugged his hand free. "Do you really?"
Draco took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out through his nostrils. "Of course. To be fair, most people that I fuck tend to feel that way. I would say it's a character flaw that I have, but I'm not sure it counts. People are rarely indifferent when it comes to the Malfoys."
"I love Ginny," Harry said, feeling suddenly angry. "I can't deal with you sober. That's the problem. I have to be drunk to be stupid enough to talk to you. I want nothing more than to throttle you right now."
"Nothing?" Draco said, pressing his pinkie finger to his tongue to flick away a bit of loose tobacco that had stuck. "Are you sure about that?"
"I have to pee," Harry hissed, not really needing to but wanting an excuse to get away from Draco. But it didn't work, as he was followed into the alley. Draco leaned against the damp brick wall and closed his eyes, smoking and smirking to himself. "What?" Harry snapped, fumbling with his flies. "What on earth do you have to be so pleased about?"
Draco chuckled and flicked away his still-burning fag. "You have a rather painful erection I gather," he said, pushing himself off the wall and advancing on Harry, slapping his hands away so he could undo Harry's flies. "There's no way you can relieve yourself in that state. So one can only assume that you don't really have to urinate." Harry let his head fall back against the brick as he felt Draco's deft fingers wrap around his erection and pull it through the slit in his pants. His fingers focused on the damp head, pulling Harry's foreskin up to cover the tip before pulling the skin back down so it was exposed again. When Harry's hips jumped forward against his will Draco chuckled. "I can only assume you wanted an excuse to get me in a dark alley and get your pants down. Am I right? Is this part of your plan to take advantage of me?"
Harry held his breath as he watched Draco sink down to his knees, quickly unfastening his own trousers as he slipped a hand into his pants, his bleary eyes locked onto Harry's. "I want to fuck your mouth," Harry said, reaching down to run his fingers through Draco's too-perfect hair, just to see it mussed. Even then, it fell right back into place.
"I want you to fuck my mouth," Draco responded, his tone dark as he leaned forward, pressing Harry's erection to the skin of his cheek. It left a stripe of precome on his cheekbone, and his mouth fell open as he let out a breathless groan. Harry reached down and took the base of his erection in his right hand and the back of Draco's head in his left, bringing them together with a satisfied groan and a hitch of his hips.
When Harry's head spun he knew the lagers weren't to blame. It was Draco Malfoy's mouth, wet and tight around him. He also knew he wouldn't last long without alcohol to dull his senses, and Draco was relentless in his assault, the hand that wasn't frantically working his own erection curled over Harry's hipbone tightly. "I'm gonna come," Harry huffed, and Draco's hum of approval was all it took for Harry to ejaculate over the other man's tongue and down his throat. Every one of his muscles were jumping as he hauled Draco to his feet, licking away the excess saliva that had run down his chin and the taste of his own come from Draco's mouth.
"Touch me," Draco whispered, his voice gravelly as he laid his head on Harry's shoulder. He squeezed his eyes closed as Harry's hand replaced his around his cock, matching the frantic pace he had set. "Yes," he panted, his breath hot and damp against Harry's neck.
"Speak...speak Parseltongue to me," he whispered. "I've always wanted to...to ask you to..."
"Oh fuck, of course," Harry replied in English before he sucked the lobe of Draco's ear into his mouth for a moment, blowing over the wet skin with declarations of love in Parseltongue. He told Draco how much he loved the taste of his skin, the curl of his lip, his ridiculous hair. He told him how he loved it when he laughed, when his eyes would linger on Harry's hands, and when he would nick his glasses on the rare occasions they slept in the same bed. He told him that he loved him over and over until Draco spilled his seed over his fingers, whimpering helplessly as Harry held him upright, talking him down in a language Draco couldn't understand.
Harry spelled them clean as Draco leaned against the wall, methodically righting his clothes before pulling out another fag. Harry nicked it from between his lips and took a long drag before giving it back. Draco's gaze held a mischievous quality. "What did you say, Potter? You sounded maudlin."
Harry leaned against the wall next to him, doing up his own trousers with shaking fingers. "I was calling you a prat every way I know how."
A muscle in the corner of Draco's mouth twitched as he blew smoke rings through swollen lips. "Of course you were."
"I have to go," Harry said. "Are you alright to make it home on your own, or should I take you?"
"I only want you to come with me if you plan on staying," Draco said, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sober. His words had a bit of a sharp edge that he hadn't intended, and Potter's eyes went dark. "Good night, Potter."
He pulled out his wand to Apparate away, and Potter's hand shot out, his fingers locking around his wrist.
Draco grinned, and they disappeared together.