||[Mar. 29th, 2003|02:50 pm]
I like you.
#21 on the WiP meme.Extraordinarily late Veela Valentine challenge fic. |
Love to ashjay and bonibaru for the betas.
Title: Darken Many Virtues
Summary: It was a relationship based on very simple principles.
Disclaimer: Rowling, not me.
Archive: Silverlake, PSA, RS.org, Veela Inc.
Note: for the Veela Valentine challenge. Um, possibly a little late.
Betas: So much love for Ash and Bonibaru.
Feedback: Show me love. firstname.lastname@example.org
Draco was having one of those mornings. He’d woken up late, couldn’t find his tie, the water wasn’t hot enough when he took a shower, he missed breakfast, and then nearly broke his neck tripping over a stray house elf.
Thus, it was hardly surprising when he walked into Potions and noticed that Harry Potter was looking especially fuckable. Clearly, it was not his day. Late for class, hungry, and attracted to Potter. That was just perfect. Draco very nearly turned around and headed back for his room and nice, comfortable bed. This, of course, led to the thought of Potter in his bed. Brilliant. The hunger was clearly making him delirious.
It wasn’t the hunger.
It was the way that Harry kept doing this thing with his quill, brushing it lightly against his lips whenever he was concentrating on something. It was his hair, which didn’t look so much unkempt as sexily tousled. It was the way he bit his lip when he was thinking really hard, leaving it red and full. It was his neck, which looked utterly touchable.
It was when he stretched his arms up, and his shirt came untucked and revealed a pale triangle of skin below his navel, and Draco wanted to touch it so badly that he could almost feel the smoothness of it beneath his fingertips, could almost taste it, soft and warm against his lips.
It may have been a crush.
It was time for action. Breakfast time, he approached Harry’s table.
“I don’t like you,” Draco said to Harry, and walked away.
“Well that’s a bloody newsflash,” Harry said. “What’s his problem?”
“I imagine he woke up this morning and realized he was still a pointy-faced obnoxious little git. Enough to ruin anyone’s day, I’d say.” Weasley said, sounding bored with the situation already. “Did you finish the Potions assignment?”
“Yeah, hold on, I’ll get it out...”
Draco kept walking. It was a start, he thought. He could do this. Let up on the insults little by little until he appeared completely benevolent, and then create some sort of situation in which he could snog the living daylights out of the boy. Catch him off guard and then go for the kill. Maybe even start a fistfight, thus going in with physical contact and rolling around on the ground and then maybe some strategic movement of the hips. Easy enough.
Draco was lurking. He skulked in the general vicinity of the Gryffindor common room, patrolling the hallways near it and flashing his prefect badge at anyone that looked at him suspiciously. Potter would show up eventually. Draco had seen him in the library alone an hour or so before, and he couldn’t take that long to do whatever it was he was doing in there.
Fifteen minutes later, the Fat Lady decided to ask him what he was doing there. She was unfazed by his prefect badge and muttered response that he had every right to be there, thanks, and continued pestering him.
Harry rounded the corner, and nearly collided with Draco.
“Malfoy?” he said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t think he’ll tell you, dearie,” the Fat Lady said helpfully. “I’ve asked him several times and he refuses to tell me.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “That so?” he addressed Draco.
“I’m a prefect,” Draco said. “I’m patrolling.”
“You don’t usually patrol around here.”
“How would you know?” Draco asked, secretly pleased that Harry noticed these things. Perhaps getting into Harry’s trousers wouldn’t be so difficult after all.
Harry shrugged. “I notice these things. What do you want, anyway?”
Inexplicably, you, Draco thought, but didn’t say anything.
Rolling his eyes, Harry stepped toward the portrait. “Fine, I don’t care.”
Draco opened his mouth to speak.
“I’m lying,” Harry turned back to face him. “I do care. You’ve been acting weird lately. Almost,” he paused, “civil. It’s very unlike you.”
“Would you rather I insult you and your friends?” Draco asked, honestly curious.
“Of course not. It just makes me nervous. Like you’re up to something.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “You are up to something, are you? Come on, Malfoy, what are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Because I wanted to see you.”
Harry frowned. “And here I am. So what is it?”
“Hormones, I suspect,” said Draco, stepping closer.
“What-“ Harry started, and then Draco was pushing him against the wall. “Um,” he tried again, and Draco kissed him.
Draco’s hand slid over the back over Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. Thoughtfully, he ran his tongue over Harry’s bottom lip. It was, in fact, just as lickable as he had expected.
“Malfoy,” Harry said against Draco’s lips, “what are you doing?”
“Giving in to my overwhelming lust for you.”
“Really?” asked Harry, impressed. “It’s overwhelming?”
“Potter,” Draco said patiently. “I think you’re missing the bigger picture here, which is that you’re not pushing me away and hexing me into some small woodland creature. Of course, you didn’t kiss me back, either.” He paused, and then moved a hand to Harry’s waist, dipping beneath his waistband and pulling up his shirt, finding the warm triangle of skin he had so desired during class. It was as soft as he’d expected. Gently, he ran his thumb over it. “Well?” he said.
Harry looked nervous. He glanced around the empty hallway. The portrait was only a few feet away, and someone could emerge from it at any minute. “I don’t think we should do this here,” he said.
“Don’t stop on my account, dears,” the Fat Lady said encouragingly. “Feel free to continue with what you were doing.”
“Okay, really not doing this here,” Harry amended, looking vaguely ill. He gestured for Draco to follow him.
Silently they made their way to a dark, empty corridor Draco wasn’t familiar with, where Harry stopped and leaned against the wall.
“Well,” Draco said cheerfully, “I’m still definitely not a small woodland creature, and this is a fairly public place to kill me dead, so this is all actually going quite well-“
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry said tightly.
“Or not,” Draco continued. “You can hit me, if you want, that was Plan B actually-“
Harry’s hand fisted in Draco’s robes and pulled him forward until they collided. Draco’s knee went between Harry’s slightly spread legs, and Draco said, surprised, “Or we can just skip to the torrid sex.”
“Did you miss the whole ‘shut up’ portion of this conversation?” Harry said, irritated, and then pressed his lips to Draco’s. His hands scrabbled for Draco’s hair, threading into the thick blond strands and tugging him closer, kissing him harder. He licked at Draco’s lips, running his hands over Draco’s back and down to his hips, slowly rubbing against him.
Abruptly, Draco pulled back, his lips curving into a smile. “I didn’t expect you to be this easy, Potter.”
Harry’s grip on Draco’s hips tightened, and he pushed the blond against the wall, switching their positions and earning him a quiet gasp of surprise. “Funnily enough,” Harry said darkly, “I knew for certain that you would be.” Roughly, he pulled Draco’s shirt up and ran his fingers over the hot bared skin of Draco’s back.
“Spent a lot of time thinking about it, have you?” Draco said, shuddering as Harry dug in with his fingernails.
“I knew you would try something one of these days. You just can’t resist a challenge.”
“You think this was a challenge?” Draco closed his eyes, leaning his head back as Harry sucked lightly at his neck.
“I suppose not. Now, getting you to shut up- that’s a challenge.” He pressed Draco hard against the wall.
It actually wasn’t much of a challenge. And Harry wasn’t the only one that was easy, either. Draco was on his knees sucking Harry off not half an hour after meeting him outside Gryffindor Tower. Harry returned the favor, and they made plans to meet again.
“Why are you doing this?” Draco asked.
“Hormones,” Harry answered, and that’s all they said about it.
It was a relationship based on very simple principles: Harry liked sex with Draco. Draco liked sex with Harry. They liked it pretty much all the time.
Draco, as a prefect, had his own room. It was there that Harry fucked him for the first time.
It was there that Draco found out that he really, really liked being fucked.
Draco also liked to tease. Harry wasn’t terribly demonstrative in public, and they both had been brushing up on their memory charms should they ever get caught. Draco enjoyed surprising Harry in the hallways and dragging him off to do dirty things to him.
It was one such moment, after Charms, that Draco pulled him into a dark corridor and pushed him against the wall, delighting in Harry’s nervous squeak.
“Not scared, are you Potter?” Draco whispered. His hand slid up Harry’s shoulder, his thumb coming to rest on the sensitive spot behind Harry’s earlobe.
Harry fought back a shiver. “No,” he said, irritated at the huskiness of his voice.
Grinning wickedly, Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair, his thumb still rubbing gently at the sensitive spot. He leaned closer and whispered in Harry’s ear. “How about now?”
“No,” said Harry, quieter still, and then gasped as Draco nipped his ear.
“Not going to make this easy, are you?” Draco breathed, and laid a soft kiss to Harry’s neck. His tongue darted out to lick lightly at the spot he’d kissed. Slowly, he slid his other hand up Harry’s back, catching and releasing the thick fabric of his robes. He moved his lips back to Harry’s neck and began to suck lightly.
“Draco,” Harry gasped. His fingernails scraped the stone wall, desperate to grab onto something, to wrap his fingers in Draco’s hair and clutch and then push him downward.
Draco pressed forward, sliding his knee between Harry’s parted legs, inching his thigh forward with deliberate slowness. At the same time, he pulled back from Harry’s neck, noting with pleasure the small red mark he’d left there. With a seductive, assured smile he leaned his forehead against Harry’s and pushed him against the wall, his thigh pressed up against Harry’s erection. “Are you nervous?” he asked, his voice suffused with quiet glee.
“Yes,” Harry said, and tilted his head up and kissed Draco on the lips. His hands pushed off the wall and went for Draco’s hips, pulling the other boy forward and thrusting gracelessly against him. He pulled his head back with a gasp as pleasure rolled through him, down his spine and straight to his cock. “Yes,” he said, and kissed Draco again, harder, wanting to bruise him with lips and fingers and hips, mark him up and leave him reddened and disheveled and obviously his.
“You’re so easy,” Draco whispered.
“Yes, terribly. Let’s go to your room,” Harry said restlessly, his hands busy untucking Draco’s shirt.
“Why? Don’t you enjoy the idea that we could be caught any second now?” Draco pressed forward, kissing Harry’s neck.
“Yes. I mean. No. You know, you have this perfectly serviceable bed in your room.” He tugged Draco in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons.
“But we always have sex there,” Draco said, pouting.
“We do not. We’ve gotten off in so many empty corridors and classrooms that I’ve lost track. Not to mention the astronomy tower. And the gardens. And-“ he shivered as Draco crushed him to the wall, pressing their groins together, “Professor Snape’s desk, remember?”
Draco smiled. He remembered. “But that was ages ago,” he said softly, nipping at Harry’s earlobe.
“That was last week,” Harry pointed out.
Draco pulled back, sighing dramatically. “The thrill is gone.”
“Actually,” Harry said, and slid his hands down to Draco’s hips, pulling him forward and grinding against him, “the thrill is right here, if you’d care to notice.” Abruptly, he pushed away and headed for Draco’s room.
Grinning, Draco followed. Yes, there it was.
They reached Draco’s room a little overheated from rushing, and Harry pushed past him into the room, slamming the door behind them and dragging Draco toward the bed.
Hastily, he undressed.
“Not in a hurry, are you?” Draco said, amused.
Harry glared, and pushed Draco onto the bed. “Why do you do this to me?”
“Because it gets you off,” Draco said, lifting his arms so Harry could remove his shirt. He gasped as Harry bent down, licking roughly at his nipple. “And me, also. It’s like this vicious, wonderful cycle.” He shifted obligingly, assisting Harry in removing his trousers. Soon enough, he was naked, pulling Harry to him and kissing him hard, legs entwined and hearts pounding. “Plus, when I’ve pissed you off you fuck me harder.”
Harry scrabbled at Draco’s nightstand drawer and retrieved the lube. “You’re such a. Fucking. Tease,” he said harshly, thrusting a slick finger into Draco.
“You like it,” Draco ground out, writhing and pushing upward as Harry added another finger and twisted, slowly sliding in and out of him.
“God yes,” Harry murmured. “Never change.”
Draco arched up, tense and desperate as Harry’s fingers stabbed into him. “Harry, please.”
“Please what?” Harry said, grinning viciously. His unoccupied hand was spread over Draco’s lower back, keeping him lifted slightly, just enough for Harry to push deeper.
Shuddering, Draco reached up, gripping Harry’s forearms. “Fuck me,” he gasped. “Fuck me, Harry. It’s been days. Christ, you think I’m a tease?”
“Desperation is such a nice look on you, Draco.” Smiling lazily, Harry slowly drew his fingers out of Draco’s body.
“So is well-fucked, I’ve been told,” Draco said. “Would you like to- oh,” he gasped as Harry pressed forward, the head of his cock teasing at Draco’s entrance.
“Would I like to what?” Harry asked. He moved his hips forward with deliberate slowness, almost but not quite penetrating.
Draco’s grip tightened, his hands squeezing at Harry’s arms, short nails digging in. “Would you like to fuck me so hard I forget my name?” he said tightly.
“Well I’m not sure that’s possible,” Harry said, considering. “But I could certainly try.” With one hard thrust, he was inside Draco. He carefully pulled out, and then pushed forward again, thrusting as deeply as he could. “Like this?”
“Harder,” said Draco, his eyes shut tightly.
Obligingly, Harry sped up the rhythm a bit. “Better?”
Harry held Draco’s hips, thumbs digging into the pale hipbones as he drove in and out, steadily harder until Draco was rocking with him, his legs wrapped around Harry’s waist, heels drumming against the backs of Harry’s thighs.
Moaning, Draco transferred his hands to the headboard, holding on tightly and pushing against Harry, meeting his thrusts with bruising intensity. Harry leaned forward, bracing his hands against the bed as he worked to thrust even harder, pounding into Draco, who writhed blurrily beneath him, frenzied and eager and utterly gorgeous.
“Harry, please,” Draco said, bucking his hips, his cock pressed against Harry’s belly, sliding between their sweat-soaked skin.
Harry reached down, grasping Draco’s cock and stroking roughly, matching each stroke with a harder thrust. Draco cried out beneath him, his eyes glittering grey against his feverishly red cheeks, as Harry drove into him so hard he wondered that he didn’t break in half. Furious thrusts and frantic jerking and then Draco was coming, staring into Harry’s eyes and fisting his hands in the sheets before moving them to Harry’s hips to try and pull him in deeper, as deep as he possibly could.
“Draco,” Harry gasped, his thrusts turning irregular and shallow as climax overtook him, and finally he slumped over Draco’s barely-conscious form. “Draco,” he said again.
“Mmm,” Draco said muzzily.
“Yes, right,” Harry muttered. He pressed a rather inelegant kiss to Draco’s collarbone, and then wearily rolled off of him. “Do you ever think about what we’re doing?”
“Every waking moment,” said Draco, snuggling up to him and resting his head on Harry’s chest.
“I don’t mean the sex.”
“What else do we do?” Draco said curiously. He looked up at Harry, who was staring at the canopy.
“Well.” Harry frowned. “Nothing, I guess. Should we?”
“I’m okay with the current arrangement, actually. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah. It’s just. This isn’t right, Draco.”
Draco stiffened and pulled away. “What do you mean?”
“Us. This. The sex. We’re not. I mean.” Harry avoided Draco’s eyes.
“Oh lovely, Potter, you’re having an attack of morals now? What brought this on?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. What are you saying? You want to end it?” Draco said furiously.
“No!” Harry said, clearly alarmed.
“Then what are you saying?” Draco sat up, moving away from Harry.
Harry reached for him. “I’m saying. This is wrong. It’s wrong, Draco.” He paused.
Draco stared at him.
Gently, he touched Draco’s shoulder. “But I don’t care.”
A few vices are sufficient to darken many virtues. – Plutarch