Birthday Fic/Art
Hello all!
The lovely minervaalistor, who had already written me the delicious, absolutely squee-worthy birthday fic, Quidditch Wife, wrote me a sequel! And it's awesome - funny and adorable, and oh, just so very sweet.
AND, as if that weren't enough, miyoung_boz has provided incredibly sexy fan art to go with it! I'm sharing them with you guys because zomg they're both SO HOT.
Oh, and they both get an NC-17 rating, so you know...minors don't look and all that.
Title: Quidditch Wife 2
Author: minervaalistor
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Sequel to Quidditch Wife. In which Draco is obviously born to be a Quidditch Wife, and there is hot boy sex.
Drool-Worthy Art to go with it: This Harry/Draco Picture by miyoung_boz
'''''
Quidditch Wife 2
'''''
“Oh, Marjorie, I cannot tell you how excited I am by your ideas. This is going to be the most spectacular wedding in the history of the world!” Draco gushed as he thumbed through a thick book of fabric samples. “We simply must have it near Christmas to tie in your idea of combining our Hogwarts house colors without being too gauche. Red roses for Gryffindor, green robes for Slytherin and tasteful gold and silver accents! It is going to be splendid!”
“Mr. Malfoy, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you’re so excited. I do wish your betrothed could have joined us so that we could finalize some decisions.”
“I know, love, but he’s got a game in a few short hours. I promise I’ll show him everything tonight and firecall you in the morning.”
There was a loud bang towards the front of the restaurant. Draco and Marjorie turned their heads in curiosity. The rather beefy maitre’d was bodily removing a photographer who had been lurking behind a potted plant.
“Draco! Draco! This way!” the man yelled, holding his camera up and shooting off several rounds even as he was being flung from the premises.
“Oh dear!” Draco sighed. “I am so sorry, Marjorie! They just seem to follow me everywhere these days. I guess it’s one of the few downfalls of being engaged to a star Seeker and Savior of the entire wizarding world.”
Marjorie quirked an eyebrow. “I think you’re becoming more famous than Harry.”
Draco laughed, tossing his head back and waving his hand, surreptitiously scanning the room for other photographers.
“Don’t be silly, dear. Why would they possibly be interested in me?”
“You’re on the cover of four fashion magazines this week. They must find something interesting.”
Draco, hand pressed to his chest, opened his eyes wide as a doe’s and gasped. “Really? Four? I knew about Gentlemen’s Fashion Wizard Weekly, Homme Magique, Urban Witch, The Daily Wand and Witches Chic but-oh wait! That’s five covers isn’t it? It’s just a phase, I’m sure.”
A waiter, clad in a black tuxedo approached the table and bowed. “Mr. Malfoy, your car is here.”
“Delightful! Thank you ever so much. Marjorie, just put this dinner on our bill. I’ve got to run along. Harry’s expecting me at the game tonight.”
Draco and the wedding planner gave each other two air kisses on each cheek before departing.
The waiter escorted Draco to the front lobby, where Draco halted in front of a large mirror. He smoothed his already perfect hair, tugged the neck of the cable-knit jumper he was wearing so it cradled his chin just so, pinched his cheeks to bring up some color, and checked his teeth. He pulled out a pair of large, black Jackie O shades and put them on, turning his head this way and that. The waiter stared at him dreamily.
“Thank you, dear, I think I’ve got it from here,” Draco said to the star struck lad.
“Yes, sir. Um, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco had already started towards the door, but stopped and looked back. “Yes?” he answered over the tops of his sunglasses.
“May I…have your autograph?”
Draco sighed as if the weight of the world had been thrust upon him. “Yes, yes, I suppose.”
The waiter scrambled, pulling a menu out of its leather binder, and held it out to Draco with a pen. Draco reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out his own pen, and scrawled his name across the menu with a flourish.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you so much,” the waiter stammered.
“Of course. Now really, I have to go. My future husband is going to kill me if I’m late for his first professional Quidditch game.”
As soon as the waiter opened the door for Draco, he was blinded by a sea of flashbulbs and an ocean of voices calling his name.
“Mr. Malfoy! Over here!”
“Draco, is it true that Harry bought you a five carat engagement ring? Can we see your hand?”
“Draco, can I-”
“Mr. Malfoy, please-”
Draco waved his hands in a dismissive gesture.
Draco ignored all the photographers, raising his chin haughtily as he sauntered to the car. The chauffeur swung the door open for Draco as he gave the press one more exasperated look.
“Mr. Malfoy? What is that jumper you’re wearing? Is it Muggle?”
Draco put his hands on his hips. “What is wrong with you people? Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around, snapping your trite little photos? Get your own life! And it’s Gucci, by the way, not merely Muggle, but Designer Muggle. Far too many Galleons for the likes of you!”
Draco whipped around dramatically and was shocked to see Harry sitting in the back seat of the limo, a huge grin on his face. Draco smiled back and practically dove into the car.
“Baby!” he cooed, giving Harry a sweet kiss on the lips.
“I got those magazines that you wanted,” Harry cooed back, pushing a stack of magazines bearing Draco’s face towards the blond.
“Only one copy of each? We’ll have to get more later.” Draco pushed the magazines aside. “Why aren’t you at the arena?” he asked his dark haired fiancé.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him nearly onto his lap. “I wanted to see you before the game,” he purred in Draco’s ear. Light nibbles followed this pronouncement.
Draco wriggled and pushed Harry away. “Harry, stop it. You know we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because your coach told all of us wiv-significant others-that there was to be no sex within 24 hours of any game.”
Harry leaned forward and nibbled Draco’s ear again. “Bollocks.”
Draco firmly pushed Harry away. “It’s not bollocks, Harry. We used to have the same rule in Slytherin. Sex saps all of your energy and drive. Makes you unfocused and docile.”
Harry growled and pulled Draco completely in his lap. “Bollocks, I say. There is no way I’d be more unfocused than I’m going to be if I have to play thinking about your tight, naked arse the entire time. Snitch’ll bang me in the forehead but I’ll be too busy trying to balance on my broom with an enormous hard-on. Besides, my famous little Quidditch Wife, who do you work for, me or the Cannons?”
Harry’s hot, open mouth found Draco’s neck. The blond’s eyes slid shut and his hands curled into Harry’s shoulders. But only for a second. Then he recovered. He pulled Harry’s head back by a handful of hair.
“Harry, I told you-”
“Want to play rough, then, huh?” Harry grunted.
“No, I want you to-fuck, Harry that’s playing dirty,” Draco gasped as Harry’s fingers tightened over his crotch.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Harry commanded.
Draco wanted to be a good Quidditch wife, he really did, but he couldn’t resist when Harry got a bit pushy. He leaned forward and ravished Harry’s mouth.
Harry gave as good as he got. What looked very much like a wrestling match ensued, but instead of headlocks and twisted arms, there was a lot of grinding, grabbing and stroking. In seconds, Harry had Draco pinned beneath him on the expansive backseat.
“I should rip this bloody jumper off you for trying to tell me no,” Harry growled, settling for pushing his hands beneath said jumper. He leaned forward and gave Draco’s nipple a sharp bite.
“Ow!” Draco yelped. He pulled Harry’s head back again. “You do that again, Potter and I’ll-OW!”
Harry had done it again.
Draco pushed forward, clutching Harry’s hips in a vise like grip with his legs, trying to flip the brunet.
“Oh, no, Malfoy, I don’t think so.” Harry pushed down on Draco with all his weight, effectively immobilizing him. “Now you be still.”
Harry’s eyes were scorching, his skin radiating with heat. Draco put up a fight, but only enough of one to ensure Harry remained on top.
“What, Potter? Gonna rip my trousers off and fuck me right here with the chauffeur watching?”
In one lighting fast move, Harry did rip Draco’s trousers off, yanking them down so that they were only hanging on by one of Draco’s ankles.
“That sounds like a splendid idea,” he growled to the blond.
Draco hiked his free leg around Harry’s back and went for his fiancé’s trousers.
“It really does,” he had to agree. He pulled Harry down into another brutal kiss.
Since they’d become engaged, the two men simply could not keep their hands off of one another. This had led to some of the most exciting sex they’d ever had, in Draco’s opinion. Typically Harry was tender and sweet, their love making always slow and drawn out. Which was lovely. But when Harry had started dragging Draco off into public toilets and shop dressing rooms for quickies, or throwing him on top of their kitchen table, or nailing him against their foyer wall seconds after they’d walked into their flat, on top of their usual routine, well, Draco had decided that accepting Harry’s marriage proposal was the best decision he’d ever made.
Harry didn’t even stop kissing Draco to do the lubrication spell. Nor did he stop when he slid two fingers inside Draco, roughly but thoroughly preparing the blond. He only finally stopped to carefully slide into his mate. Harry stared into Draco’s eyes, waiting for the signal that he was ready.
“What the fuck are you waiting for, Potter?” Draco rumbled.
“Malfoy, you are the love of my life, you know that?” Harry placed a single kiss to Draco’s forehead. Then he commenced to give the blond a brutal pounding.
Draco loved every single second, every single stroke.
“Fuck, Harry!” he cried as he pushed back against Harry, pressing his hands against the door for leverage.
“Is that good?” Harry panted. He tilted Draco’s hips up an inch higher and sat back on his heels. Draco keened and arched down against Harry’s cock.
“That’s better, then?” Harry teased before starting to move again.
Every time Harry moved in or out, the tip of his cock slid over Draco’s g-spot. The blond’s fingers curled into the arm rest behind him, his head banged against the door handle, his toes were curling, inhuman sounds were coming out of his mouth…
Then he was coming. The force of his orgasm was so strong that he curled forward, clutching desperately to Harry’s thighs.
“Oh God,” Harry creaked. He gathered Draco in his arms and pulled the blond into his lap, burying his face in Draco’s chest. Draco leaned back and rode Harry hard.
“Oh sweet goblin gold and pumpkin juice!” Draco cried as Harry emptied into him, panting Draco’s name and a string of colorful obscenities as he did so.
Moments later, Harry was back in the upright, seated position, Draco still in his lap, his cock still inside Draco. Draco’s head lay on Harry’s shoulder, while Harry’s cheek pressed against the top of Draco’s head.
Harry started to giggle.
“What?” Draco asked, snuzzling deeper into Harry’s neck.
“Do you even know what you said?”
Draco lifted his head. “When?”
“When we came.”
Draco looked confused. “Probably ‘fuck’, and ‘yes’, and ‘Harry’?”
Harry giggled and gave Draco a squeeze. “No. You said ‘sweet goblin gold and pumpkin juice’.”
“That’s a perfectly ordinary wizarding oath!” Draco said vehemently.
“Then why have I never heard you say it before? You certainly swear enough. I think I fucked you silly.”
Draco leaned forward and nuzzled back into Harry’s neck. His strategy was to disorient Harry with a subtle combination of flattery and adorableness.
“Harry, don’t make fun of me. You’re hot when you get all butch like that. Throwing me and down and just giving it to me like the bad boy I am.”
Harry growled and nibbled on Draco’s ear. “I wonder if we have time for round two?”
Just as Harry finished the sentence, the car came to a halt. The chauffeur lowered the glass only just enough so that his voice could be heard.
“Gentlemen, we’ve arrived.”
“After the game, love,” Draco said. “You would be exhausted if we had another go. Now let’s get cleaned up and get you to the game. You just be sure to focus on catching the snitch as quickly as you can. So I can get you back to our hotel room. And maybe tie your hands to the bed with a couple of Cannons flags and run the game winning Snitch, caught by you of course, up and down your body, letting its’ little wings tickle you. All over.”
“Gah,” Harry answered.
Draco lifted himself off Harry’s lap, and it was a good thing as Harry was already recovering and showing signs of life below the belt. The blond pulled on his clothes, spelled both of them dry and clean, and pulled down the mirror from the ceiling. After enlarging it, he took quite a long time getting his hair back in place, pinching his cheeks for color, checking his teeth, and of course, donning his diva sunglasses.
Harry watched him all with a highly amused smirk.
“Are you ready?”
Draco checked himself at all angles before shrinking the mirror and snapping it shut.
“Yup.”
The chauffeur opened the door for them. Harry got out first, reached back and took Draco’s hand. There was nearly as loud of a cheer for the blond as there had been for Harry.
Draco tutted. “I can’t believe these people. Don’t they know you need to relax before your game?”
“I think you like the attention,” Harry said. He planted a kiss on Draco’s cheek to diffuse the explosion that was bound to come. A loud squeal erupted from several groups of girls.
Harry’s diffusion tactic worked. Draco simply huffed. “I do not. Besides, this lot is your crowd, not mine.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re so cute. I am the luckiest man alive.”
They started to stroll to the door, hand in hand, oblivious to the glare of the flash bulbs and the shrieks of the crowd.
“Well, yes, you are undoubtedly lucky,” Draco answered with a deep sigh. Harry’s grinned only widened. It was a post coital effect-he found Draco irresistible.
**
Draco settled into the VIP box just as the teams took to the air. Two minutes, twenty-three seconds later, Harry caught the Snitch and the game was over.
“Bloody hell. I didn’t even get to pose for one photo,” he muttered to himself as he stood and headed back down to the locker room.
**
“You are such a showoff,” Draco said before clamping down on Harry’s neck again. Harry had dragged him off into one of the dressing rooms and Draco currently had Harry backed against the wall, running his hands all over his mate’s body. The rest of the team had already disappeared to the after party, and Harry and Draco were all alone.
“You said to hurry and catch the bloody thing,” Harry answered back.
“You want to snog for a bit here then go back to our room?”
“Yeah,” Harry muttered with a smile.
The two fell silent as they kissed. They were so shocked when someone pulled open the door that they knocked teeth.
“What the hell?” Draco shouted.
It was the Cannons coach.
“Malfoy! What did I tell you about having sex with Potter before the games?”
Draco widened his eyes innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! We didn’t have sex before the game. We were trying to catch up here, but you came barging in!”
Coach thrust a newspaper at the two men. On the front was a wizard photo of Harry thrusting in and out of Draco. In the limousine. That afternoon.
“Oh really! Then explain this!”
Harry reached out and snatched the paper out of Coach’s hands.
“Oh. My. God.” He turned quickly to the story inside, Draco looking over his shoulder.
There were a series of photos, grainy and not very clear, that ran along the width of the pages, obviously still shots of a film reel.
“Oh. My. God.” Harry said again.
Draco leaned forward, reading the article. He gasped loudly and pointed to the last paragraph.
“That can’t be true!” he squeaked.
Coach pulled the paper down so he could address the two men again. “Look, Potter, I know you’re not one for obeying the rules. You’re special-everyone knows that. I just wanted to say, if having sex before a game makes you play like you did today, then don’t let me stop you. Just don’t let the other guys know. They’ll have my head. And next time, don’t let someone film it.”
“We didn’t!” Harry and Draco said together.
Coach scratched his chin. “Hmmmm…I’m going to have the Ministry investigate that limo driver.”
Draco and Harry exchanged a look. “That’s it! The bloody limo driver!!!” Harry said. “I’ll sue his minerals off.”
Coach shrugged. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good night.”
Harry watched his coach go then turned to Draco.
“What were you saying couldn’t be true?”
Draco pointed to the last paragraph of the article again. “You can order the film.”
“WHAT?”
Draco gently took the paper from Harry and tossed it aside. “Let’s not worry about this right now. You just won the Cannons their first opener in twenty years. Let’s celebrate now, sue tomorrow.”
“You are brilliant.”
The two men picked up where they left off.
**
~~Two weeks later~~
“I’ll bloody kill them!!!” Harry shouted as he stared at the television. In all its wide screen glory, what was being called “The H/D Secret Sex Tape” played out for him and Draco on their massive television.
“Now, Harry,” Draco soothed. “They’ve issued an injunction. They can’t sell it anymore and they have to give us all of the money they’ve already made.”
“Yeah, but what if one of the Weasleys sees this? Or, god forbid, one of the twins gets hold of it? I’ll never hear the end. They’ll be playing it at our birthday parties for the next seventy years.”
Draco’s eyes never left the screen. Without a word, he guided Harry’s hand to his rock hard crotch.
“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad,” Draco breathed as, on screen, Harry gave him quite the seeing to.
Harry’s mouth dropped in shock and for a moment he was rigidly still. Then a slow smirk crept across his face and his hand started to rub against Draco.”
“You’re right. Now I have proof that you yelled ‘great goblin gold and pumpkin juice’. That in itself might be worth the humiliation.” He leaned over and licked Draco’s neck.
Draco simply smiled and leaned back on the couch, completely relaxed. “Shut up, you, and concentrate on making me yell it again.”
Harry slid down on his knees in front of his future husband.
“Do I tell you enough how brilliant you are?” he asked as he unfastened Draco’s trousers.
Draco smiled and brushed Harry’s cheek. “No, not nearly enough. Now shut it and suck me off, my big pimp, sugar daddy.”
Harry gulped and did as he was told.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNA!!!!! SMOOCH, SMOOCH, SMOOCH!
'''''
Don't forget to tell minervaalistor and miyoung_boz how awesome they are!
The lovely minervaalistor, who had already written me the delicious, absolutely squee-worthy birthday fic, Quidditch Wife, wrote me a sequel! And it's awesome - funny and adorable, and oh, just so very sweet.
AND, as if that weren't enough, miyoung_boz has provided incredibly sexy fan art to go with it! I'm sharing them with you guys because zomg they're both SO HOT.
Oh, and they both get an NC-17 rating, so you know...minors don't look and all that.
Title: Quidditch Wife 2
Author: minervaalistor
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Sequel to Quidditch Wife. In which Draco is obviously born to be a Quidditch Wife, and there is hot boy sex.
Drool-Worthy Art to go with it: This Harry/Draco Picture by miyoung_boz
'''''
Quidditch Wife 2
'''''
“Oh, Marjorie, I cannot tell you how excited I am by your ideas. This is going to be the most spectacular wedding in the history of the world!” Draco gushed as he thumbed through a thick book of fabric samples. “We simply must have it near Christmas to tie in your idea of combining our Hogwarts house colors without being too gauche. Red roses for Gryffindor, green robes for Slytherin and tasteful gold and silver accents! It is going to be splendid!”
“Mr. Malfoy, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you’re so excited. I do wish your betrothed could have joined us so that we could finalize some decisions.”
“I know, love, but he’s got a game in a few short hours. I promise I’ll show him everything tonight and firecall you in the morning.”
There was a loud bang towards the front of the restaurant. Draco and Marjorie turned their heads in curiosity. The rather beefy maitre’d was bodily removing a photographer who had been lurking behind a potted plant.
“Draco! Draco! This way!” the man yelled, holding his camera up and shooting off several rounds even as he was being flung from the premises.
“Oh dear!” Draco sighed. “I am so sorry, Marjorie! They just seem to follow me everywhere these days. I guess it’s one of the few downfalls of being engaged to a star Seeker and Savior of the entire wizarding world.”
Marjorie quirked an eyebrow. “I think you’re becoming more famous than Harry.”
Draco laughed, tossing his head back and waving his hand, surreptitiously scanning the room for other photographers.
“Don’t be silly, dear. Why would they possibly be interested in me?”
“You’re on the cover of four fashion magazines this week. They must find something interesting.”
Draco, hand pressed to his chest, opened his eyes wide as a doe’s and gasped. “Really? Four? I knew about Gentlemen’s Fashion Wizard Weekly, Homme Magique, Urban Witch, The Daily Wand and Witches Chic but-oh wait! That’s five covers isn’t it? It’s just a phase, I’m sure.”
A waiter, clad in a black tuxedo approached the table and bowed. “Mr. Malfoy, your car is here.”
“Delightful! Thank you ever so much. Marjorie, just put this dinner on our bill. I’ve got to run along. Harry’s expecting me at the game tonight.”
Draco and the wedding planner gave each other two air kisses on each cheek before departing.
The waiter escorted Draco to the front lobby, where Draco halted in front of a large mirror. He smoothed his already perfect hair, tugged the neck of the cable-knit jumper he was wearing so it cradled his chin just so, pinched his cheeks to bring up some color, and checked his teeth. He pulled out a pair of large, black Jackie O shades and put them on, turning his head this way and that. The waiter stared at him dreamily.
“Thank you, dear, I think I’ve got it from here,” Draco said to the star struck lad.
“Yes, sir. Um, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco had already started towards the door, but stopped and looked back. “Yes?” he answered over the tops of his sunglasses.
“May I…have your autograph?”
Draco sighed as if the weight of the world had been thrust upon him. “Yes, yes, I suppose.”
The waiter scrambled, pulling a menu out of its leather binder, and held it out to Draco with a pen. Draco reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out his own pen, and scrawled his name across the menu with a flourish.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you so much,” the waiter stammered.
“Of course. Now really, I have to go. My future husband is going to kill me if I’m late for his first professional Quidditch game.”
As soon as the waiter opened the door for Draco, he was blinded by a sea of flashbulbs and an ocean of voices calling his name.
“Mr. Malfoy! Over here!”
“Draco, is it true that Harry bought you a five carat engagement ring? Can we see your hand?”
“Draco, can I-”
“Mr. Malfoy, please-”
Draco waved his hands in a dismissive gesture.
Draco ignored all the photographers, raising his chin haughtily as he sauntered to the car. The chauffeur swung the door open for Draco as he gave the press one more exasperated look.
“Mr. Malfoy? What is that jumper you’re wearing? Is it Muggle?”
Draco put his hands on his hips. “What is wrong with you people? Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around, snapping your trite little photos? Get your own life! And it’s Gucci, by the way, not merely Muggle, but Designer Muggle. Far too many Galleons for the likes of you!”
Draco whipped around dramatically and was shocked to see Harry sitting in the back seat of the limo, a huge grin on his face. Draco smiled back and practically dove into the car.
“Baby!” he cooed, giving Harry a sweet kiss on the lips.
“I got those magazines that you wanted,” Harry cooed back, pushing a stack of magazines bearing Draco’s face towards the blond.
“Only one copy of each? We’ll have to get more later.” Draco pushed the magazines aside. “Why aren’t you at the arena?” he asked his dark haired fiancé.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him nearly onto his lap. “I wanted to see you before the game,” he purred in Draco’s ear. Light nibbles followed this pronouncement.
Draco wriggled and pushed Harry away. “Harry, stop it. You know we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because your coach told all of us wiv-significant others-that there was to be no sex within 24 hours of any game.”
Harry leaned forward and nibbled Draco’s ear again. “Bollocks.”
Draco firmly pushed Harry away. “It’s not bollocks, Harry. We used to have the same rule in Slytherin. Sex saps all of your energy and drive. Makes you unfocused and docile.”
Harry growled and pulled Draco completely in his lap. “Bollocks, I say. There is no way I’d be more unfocused than I’m going to be if I have to play thinking about your tight, naked arse the entire time. Snitch’ll bang me in the forehead but I’ll be too busy trying to balance on my broom with an enormous hard-on. Besides, my famous little Quidditch Wife, who do you work for, me or the Cannons?”
Harry’s hot, open mouth found Draco’s neck. The blond’s eyes slid shut and his hands curled into Harry’s shoulders. But only for a second. Then he recovered. He pulled Harry’s head back by a handful of hair.
“Harry, I told you-”
“Want to play rough, then, huh?” Harry grunted.
“No, I want you to-fuck, Harry that’s playing dirty,” Draco gasped as Harry’s fingers tightened over his crotch.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Harry commanded.
Draco wanted to be a good Quidditch wife, he really did, but he couldn’t resist when Harry got a bit pushy. He leaned forward and ravished Harry’s mouth.
Harry gave as good as he got. What looked very much like a wrestling match ensued, but instead of headlocks and twisted arms, there was a lot of grinding, grabbing and stroking. In seconds, Harry had Draco pinned beneath him on the expansive backseat.
“I should rip this bloody jumper off you for trying to tell me no,” Harry growled, settling for pushing his hands beneath said jumper. He leaned forward and gave Draco’s nipple a sharp bite.
“Ow!” Draco yelped. He pulled Harry’s head back again. “You do that again, Potter and I’ll-OW!”
Harry had done it again.
Draco pushed forward, clutching Harry’s hips in a vise like grip with his legs, trying to flip the brunet.
“Oh, no, Malfoy, I don’t think so.” Harry pushed down on Draco with all his weight, effectively immobilizing him. “Now you be still.”
Harry’s eyes were scorching, his skin radiating with heat. Draco put up a fight, but only enough of one to ensure Harry remained on top.
“What, Potter? Gonna rip my trousers off and fuck me right here with the chauffeur watching?”
In one lighting fast move, Harry did rip Draco’s trousers off, yanking them down so that they were only hanging on by one of Draco’s ankles.
“That sounds like a splendid idea,” he growled to the blond.
Draco hiked his free leg around Harry’s back and went for his fiancé’s trousers.
“It really does,” he had to agree. He pulled Harry down into another brutal kiss.
Since they’d become engaged, the two men simply could not keep their hands off of one another. This had led to some of the most exciting sex they’d ever had, in Draco’s opinion. Typically Harry was tender and sweet, their love making always slow and drawn out. Which was lovely. But when Harry had started dragging Draco off into public toilets and shop dressing rooms for quickies, or throwing him on top of their kitchen table, or nailing him against their foyer wall seconds after they’d walked into their flat, on top of their usual routine, well, Draco had decided that accepting Harry’s marriage proposal was the best decision he’d ever made.
Harry didn’t even stop kissing Draco to do the lubrication spell. Nor did he stop when he slid two fingers inside Draco, roughly but thoroughly preparing the blond. He only finally stopped to carefully slide into his mate. Harry stared into Draco’s eyes, waiting for the signal that he was ready.
“What the fuck are you waiting for, Potter?” Draco rumbled.
“Malfoy, you are the love of my life, you know that?” Harry placed a single kiss to Draco’s forehead. Then he commenced to give the blond a brutal pounding.
Draco loved every single second, every single stroke.
“Fuck, Harry!” he cried as he pushed back against Harry, pressing his hands against the door for leverage.
“Is that good?” Harry panted. He tilted Draco’s hips up an inch higher and sat back on his heels. Draco keened and arched down against Harry’s cock.
“That’s better, then?” Harry teased before starting to move again.
Every time Harry moved in or out, the tip of his cock slid over Draco’s g-spot. The blond’s fingers curled into the arm rest behind him, his head banged against the door handle, his toes were curling, inhuman sounds were coming out of his mouth…
Then he was coming. The force of his orgasm was so strong that he curled forward, clutching desperately to Harry’s thighs.
“Oh God,” Harry creaked. He gathered Draco in his arms and pulled the blond into his lap, burying his face in Draco’s chest. Draco leaned back and rode Harry hard.
“Oh sweet goblin gold and pumpkin juice!” Draco cried as Harry emptied into him, panting Draco’s name and a string of colorful obscenities as he did so.
Moments later, Harry was back in the upright, seated position, Draco still in his lap, his cock still inside Draco. Draco’s head lay on Harry’s shoulder, while Harry’s cheek pressed against the top of Draco’s head.
Harry started to giggle.
“What?” Draco asked, snuzzling deeper into Harry’s neck.
“Do you even know what you said?”
Draco lifted his head. “When?”
“When we came.”
Draco looked confused. “Probably ‘fuck’, and ‘yes’, and ‘Harry’?”
Harry giggled and gave Draco a squeeze. “No. You said ‘sweet goblin gold and pumpkin juice’.”
“That’s a perfectly ordinary wizarding oath!” Draco said vehemently.
“Then why have I never heard you say it before? You certainly swear enough. I think I fucked you silly.”
Draco leaned forward and nuzzled back into Harry’s neck. His strategy was to disorient Harry with a subtle combination of flattery and adorableness.
“Harry, don’t make fun of me. You’re hot when you get all butch like that. Throwing me and down and just giving it to me like the bad boy I am.”
Harry growled and nibbled on Draco’s ear. “I wonder if we have time for round two?”
Just as Harry finished the sentence, the car came to a halt. The chauffeur lowered the glass only just enough so that his voice could be heard.
“Gentlemen, we’ve arrived.”
“After the game, love,” Draco said. “You would be exhausted if we had another go. Now let’s get cleaned up and get you to the game. You just be sure to focus on catching the snitch as quickly as you can. So I can get you back to our hotel room. And maybe tie your hands to the bed with a couple of Cannons flags and run the game winning Snitch, caught by you of course, up and down your body, letting its’ little wings tickle you. All over.”
“Gah,” Harry answered.
Draco lifted himself off Harry’s lap, and it was a good thing as Harry was already recovering and showing signs of life below the belt. The blond pulled on his clothes, spelled both of them dry and clean, and pulled down the mirror from the ceiling. After enlarging it, he took quite a long time getting his hair back in place, pinching his cheeks for color, checking his teeth, and of course, donning his diva sunglasses.
Harry watched him all with a highly amused smirk.
“Are you ready?”
Draco checked himself at all angles before shrinking the mirror and snapping it shut.
“Yup.”
The chauffeur opened the door for them. Harry got out first, reached back and took Draco’s hand. There was nearly as loud of a cheer for the blond as there had been for Harry.
Draco tutted. “I can’t believe these people. Don’t they know you need to relax before your game?”
“I think you like the attention,” Harry said. He planted a kiss on Draco’s cheek to diffuse the explosion that was bound to come. A loud squeal erupted from several groups of girls.
Harry’s diffusion tactic worked. Draco simply huffed. “I do not. Besides, this lot is your crowd, not mine.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re so cute. I am the luckiest man alive.”
They started to stroll to the door, hand in hand, oblivious to the glare of the flash bulbs and the shrieks of the crowd.
“Well, yes, you are undoubtedly lucky,” Draco answered with a deep sigh. Harry’s grinned only widened. It was a post coital effect-he found Draco irresistible.
**
Draco settled into the VIP box just as the teams took to the air. Two minutes, twenty-three seconds later, Harry caught the Snitch and the game was over.
“Bloody hell. I didn’t even get to pose for one photo,” he muttered to himself as he stood and headed back down to the locker room.
**
“You are such a showoff,” Draco said before clamping down on Harry’s neck again. Harry had dragged him off into one of the dressing rooms and Draco currently had Harry backed against the wall, running his hands all over his mate’s body. The rest of the team had already disappeared to the after party, and Harry and Draco were all alone.
“You said to hurry and catch the bloody thing,” Harry answered back.
“You want to snog for a bit here then go back to our room?”
“Yeah,” Harry muttered with a smile.
The two fell silent as they kissed. They were so shocked when someone pulled open the door that they knocked teeth.
“What the hell?” Draco shouted.
It was the Cannons coach.
“Malfoy! What did I tell you about having sex with Potter before the games?”
Draco widened his eyes innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! We didn’t have sex before the game. We were trying to catch up here, but you came barging in!”
Coach thrust a newspaper at the two men. On the front was a wizard photo of Harry thrusting in and out of Draco. In the limousine. That afternoon.
“Oh really! Then explain this!”
Harry reached out and snatched the paper out of Coach’s hands.
“Oh. My. God.” He turned quickly to the story inside, Draco looking over his shoulder.
There were a series of photos, grainy and not very clear, that ran along the width of the pages, obviously still shots of a film reel.
“Oh. My. God.” Harry said again.
Draco leaned forward, reading the article. He gasped loudly and pointed to the last paragraph.
“That can’t be true!” he squeaked.
Coach pulled the paper down so he could address the two men again. “Look, Potter, I know you’re not one for obeying the rules. You’re special-everyone knows that. I just wanted to say, if having sex before a game makes you play like you did today, then don’t let me stop you. Just don’t let the other guys know. They’ll have my head. And next time, don’t let someone film it.”
“We didn’t!” Harry and Draco said together.
Coach scratched his chin. “Hmmmm…I’m going to have the Ministry investigate that limo driver.”
Draco and Harry exchanged a look. “That’s it! The bloody limo driver!!!” Harry said. “I’ll sue his minerals off.”
Coach shrugged. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good night.”
Harry watched his coach go then turned to Draco.
“What were you saying couldn’t be true?”
Draco pointed to the last paragraph of the article again. “You can order the film.”
“WHAT?”
Draco gently took the paper from Harry and tossed it aside. “Let’s not worry about this right now. You just won the Cannons their first opener in twenty years. Let’s celebrate now, sue tomorrow.”
“You are brilliant.”
The two men picked up where they left off.
**
~~Two weeks later~~
“I’ll bloody kill them!!!” Harry shouted as he stared at the television. In all its wide screen glory, what was being called “The H/D Secret Sex Tape” played out for him and Draco on their massive television.
“Now, Harry,” Draco soothed. “They’ve issued an injunction. They can’t sell it anymore and they have to give us all of the money they’ve already made.”
“Yeah, but what if one of the Weasleys sees this? Or, god forbid, one of the twins gets hold of it? I’ll never hear the end. They’ll be playing it at our birthday parties for the next seventy years.”
Draco’s eyes never left the screen. Without a word, he guided Harry’s hand to his rock hard crotch.
“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad,” Draco breathed as, on screen, Harry gave him quite the seeing to.
Harry’s mouth dropped in shock and for a moment he was rigidly still. Then a slow smirk crept across his face and his hand started to rub against Draco.”
“You’re right. Now I have proof that you yelled ‘great goblin gold and pumpkin juice’. That in itself might be worth the humiliation.” He leaned over and licked Draco’s neck.
Draco simply smiled and leaned back on the couch, completely relaxed. “Shut up, you, and concentrate on making me yell it again.”
Harry slid down on his knees in front of his future husband.
“Do I tell you enough how brilliant you are?” he asked as he unfastened Draco’s trousers.
Draco smiled and brushed Harry’s cheek. “No, not nearly enough. Now shut it and suck me off, my big pimp, sugar daddy.”
Harry gulped and did as he was told.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNA!!!!! SMOOCH, SMOOCH, SMOOCH!
'''''
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