"Interplay", Harry/Draco, NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own them, JKR does.
Summary: Harry and Seamus have a chat, which leads Harry to believe Draco needs a break from his homework. PWP
“Merlin! I love it when Dean does that!”
Seamus’ voice filtered through the late afternoon air as he and Harry sat in front of a roaring fire in the Gryffindor common room. The fire chased away the winter chill and the boys were enjoying each others company. It was the only company to be had other than a select few of the lower year students, who had stayed during the Christmas holidays.
Harry grinned wolfishly, chuckling at the look of rapture on the Irish boy’s face. He and Seamus had been swapping stories of sexual tricks and adventures all afternoon. He’d just finished telling Seamus about a favorite fantasy of his that involved his partner’s complete and utter submission to his every want and desire. A fantasy that was not unknown to and occasionally taken advantage of by said partner.
“Your turn.” He reminded Seamus, who looked to be lost within some private memory.
“What? Oh yes,” said Seamus, coming out of his reverie. “Hmm, well I just love it when Dean is being saucy.”
Seamus paused to grin in a way that made Harry feel dirty just looking at him.
“Sometimes he’ll put on little outfits and make me sit on the bed while he parades around in them. And he won’t let me touch him, that’s the hard part. He tells me that if I break the rules and touch him then it’s all over, and he’ll sleep in his own bed that night. It’s torture, Harry! Watching him shake and wiggle, and just sitting there, doing nothing! It’s all I can do not to scream and tear my hair out!”
Harry laughed uproariously, his eyes tearing up with mirth.
“S’not funny, you git!” The Irish boy denied hotly.
"I know, I know!” Harry put a hand to his aching belly as he chuckled at the other boy’s look of pained frustration. “It’s just...picturing you, sitting there, about to go mad, and Dean dressed up like a tramp is…oh well, I lied, it is funny.”
Seamus pouted at him, crossing his arms in a fashion that resembled a put out five-year-old.
"S’not funny.” He muttered again bitterly. “And besides, it’s your turn.”
“So it is.” Harry replied cheekily. “Well, I think we’ve gone over the bigger things. How about something small that I like?”
At this Seamus giggled. “So the Slytherin git’s not exactly big, is he?”
Harry glared at Seamus.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Go on.”
“Right. What I meant was that there are some little things he does that I like. Like the way he’ll tilt his head to the side when he’s concentrating really hard on something. Or how he’ll run the tip of his quill over his lips when he's bored during class. Small things, like that.”
“I see what you mean. Dean stretches every morning, just after he wakes up. And I’m not talking about something small... he’s like a cat! He’ll arch his back completely up off the bed and lean back on his elbows, then roll his shoulders and his neck. And if I look down, I can see that his toes are curled too. It’s wonderful to watch. He’s so beautiful.”
Harry nodded, understanding. Draco always looked the most beautiful in the morning as well; his pale cheeks flushed pink with sleep, his lips parted, his hair fanned out over the pillow...
Sighing, Harry settled deeper into his chair, missing his boyfriend already though he was only in the dungeons working on a potion for his advanced term project.
Draco had stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays as a surprise for Harry. Harry hadn’t mentioned his desire for Draco to stay with him, and had tried to keep it a secret so that Draco wouldn’t be torn between his family and his lover. However, Draco had shocked him when he nonchalantly strolled into the Gryffindor common room two hours after everyone else had left.
Overcome with fuzzy feelings, Harry realized he was grinning stupidly and that Seamus was waiting for him to take his turn.
“Oh, sorry. I got a little…lost." He stammered in apology.
"Mmm hmm,” Seamus smirked at him. "It's still your turn. That is, if you're done fantasizing."
“Well, Draco does this…thing.” Harry began, biting his lip nervously.
“A thing?” Seamus prodded.
“Er, yes,” he continued. “He… Well, he… when we’re-“
“Oh, just get to the point!”
“When he’s just about to come!” Harry shouted, and then blushed furiously as it echoed loudly in the empty room. “When I’m making love to him-“
“Fucking him.” The other boy supplied bluntly.
“Yes," Harry swallowed against a throat gone dry in embarassment. "When I’m doing that, and he’s just about to come, he’ll just…stop. Everything. He’ll go deadly still and stop breathing, and he’ll tense up. No screaming or moaning, just stillness. And then when he comes he makes this tiny little noise. Breathy-like, just a whimper. It’s the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.”
The two boys sat in silence, the only sound in the entire common room that of their breathing. After awhile, Seamus looked across at Harry with a expression bordering on lust.
“Damn,” he murmured in amazement.
Harry nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath as he fought the growing arousal that accompanied thinking about Draco and orgasming in the same context. He couldn't help the mental image that came to mind unbidden of Draco just last night; a pale sillouette spread out on red Gryffindor sheets, whimpering as he came into Harry's hand.
“So,” Seamus began, a confused expression on his face. “He doesn’t make any noise at all?”
“Huh?” Harry muttered distractedly. “Oh, well he does, of course. I see to it that he makes a great deal of noise, actually. He moans just as loudly as the next guy, just not right before he…you know.”
“Got it.” Seamus nodded.
The boys lapsed back into silence again, and a few moments of awkwardness passed.
“So, um…” Harry began.
“Yeah.” Seamus responded.
“I think I’m gonna… go.”
“You gonna be ok?” Harry asked, knowing that Dean was spending the holidays at home.
“Well, Dean’s not here, but I have a few pictures of him in those saucy outfits.” The other boy winked at him.
Harry chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
“You too!” Seamus called after him, as he walked out the portrait hole, heading for the dungeons.
Draco carefully measured out two gills of armadillo bile, waiting for the liquid to settle precisely on the line of his beaker before pouring it into his potion. It began to froth slightly and turned a mustard yellow color, as predicted. Draco turned back to his ingredients, meticulously chopping daisy roots with a steady hand.
He heard the door open, but refused to turn away from his task. This potion was very important.
He had applied to a very prestigious university and with his marks he was guaranteed entrance should he complete a satisfactory and compelling extra curricular term project. Professor Snape had lent him sole use of his classroom for however long he needed it for this specific purpose.
And so, Draco ignored the sound of someone entering the room. It was probably just someone looking for some lost trinket anyway.
When a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind and a warm mouth fastened itself onto the side of his neck, Draco hissed and felt the knife he'd been using slip out of his fingers.
"Harry!" He shouted accusingly, because no one else would dare to do such a thing. "Stop it! You know how important this is, I can't afford to muck it up because you want to snog while Snape is away!"
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, his mouth still full of Draco's neck. He pulled away and pecked the top of his head in apology. "Seamus and I had a talk. It turned out to be very damaging to my self control."
Draco supressed a grin as he felt the evidence of Harry's lack of 'self control' pressed against his backside.
"Yes, well I hate to disappoint you, but you're going to have to wait until I'm done with this potion. Why don't you go and talk some more with Seamus?"
"Because he's wanking!"
"Hmm. You'll just have to wait then."
"How long?" Harry asked with a pout in his tone, watching Draco's long, fine-boned fingers smoothly glide the knife he was holding through tough, wiry daisy roots. He always wondered how the Slytherin made it look so easy. Harry's own roots always came out coarse and hacked to bits.
"Two hours." Draco muttered distractedly, pulling up the left sleeve of his robe to check his watch.
Harry groaned. "That's too long!"
Not one to be easily denied, Harry ran his fingers up the small Draco's back, rubbing them in light, teasing circles. Draco had a very sensitive back, and sure enough gasped loudly at the touch.
"Harry, stop," he demanded. "I swear if you ruin this for me..."
"Fine." Harry snapped, pulling away abruptly.
Draco shook himself, forcing away the distracting residual sensation of Harry's fingers on his overly sensitive spine. Watching the second hand on his watch carefully, he scooped up the chopped roots in his right hand and held it over the cauldron, counting down until the exact moment and uncurled his fingers, letting the bits of daisy root plop delicately into the potion. It hissed softly and abruptly became a light, pale yellow. The foam dispersed and left the surface of the potion glassy and smooth.
Walking over to a nearby sink, Draco rolled up the sleeves of his robes and systematically washed his hands, ridding them of the potentially irritating daisy root juice. He was well aware of Harry behind him, pouting as he sat on top of a table. Harry himself watched Draco mutinously, glaring as hard as he could at the back of Draco's head. When the blonde had finished drying his hands he came back over to the table that held his ingredients. Carefully measuring out the proper amounts of the next three steps in the potion he set them aside and turned to face Harry.
"What?" Harry muttered bitterly.
Draco smirked and said nothing as he walked over to a free table and hopped up to perch on its edge. "We have twenty minutes," he said simply.
Harry pounced immediately, leaping off of his table and crossing over to pin Draco beneath him. Holding slim wrists above the Slytherin's head, Harry attacked Draco's mouth, kissing him with all of the pent up frustration his talk with Seamus earlier had instilled in him.
Draco made a pleased sound in the back of his throat as he kissed Harry back hungrily. He wished he could find Harry's desperation amusing, but in fact the animalistic way he sometimes treated him was actually a bit of a turn on. Draco thought he knew what Seamus and Harry had been talking about, and judging by the way the Gryffindor had his wrists imprisoned above his head, he also had a good idea the type of mood Harry was in.
Draco let his arms go limp against the table underneath him and brought his legs up to wrap themselves around Harry's waist. He heard the other boy moan as he yeilded. Harry pulled away abruptly, one of his hands leaving their grip on Draco's wrists to devest his boyfriend of clothing, kissing down his chest and stomach as he worked, muttering against his skin.
"Seamus...talking about...things we liked...like this...love this...love you...God, Draco..."
Draco whined just a little, Harry's words effecting him as much as his touch as he finally completely undressed him. He wanted to tug his wrists from Harry's grip in order to touch and strip away clothing, but he resisted the impulse. Somehow Harry had managed to get his own clothes off with one hand, anyway.
"Hurry," Draco whispered. "The potion..."
"Bugger the potion!" Harry growled, his eyes burning intensely.
Harry reached for his wand sticking out of the back pocket of his trousers, lying on the ground. He made quick work of preparing Draco before finally releasing the hold on his wrists to grip his hips with both hands.
Draco didn't move his arms, leaving them folded above his head, one wrist crossed over the other, letting Harry pull him down the table, positioning him just so. Harry stood at the edge of the table, its height perfect to take the gorgeous blonde spread out before him. He couldn't help but stare at the sight of Draco in such a submissive pose. Draco grinned and spread his thighs wantonly, letting a small moan of longing escape his lips, knowing that it would drive Harry insane.
It worked. With one swift movement, Harry gripped Draco behind the knees and thrust forward, forcing himself completely within the blonde. Draco cried out loudly, the sound echoing in the lofty dungeon.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled distractedly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in sensation.
"Don't apologize," Draco gritted his teeth. "Just fuck me."
A command Harry happily obeyed, letting Draco's calves rest on the notches of his hipbones, his fingers digging into the crooks behind his knees as he thrust into him with enough force to send the table skidding. He kept his eyes on Draco's face, watching and waiting for the moment he'd told Seamus about, when he'd become completely still, his features frozen in agonizing pleasure, his mouth a perfect little round O...
Draco didn't disappoint him and curled his fingers into his palms as he whimpered his completion so softly that Harry hardly heard it above the loud scraping of wood against stone as the table rocked from his continued thrusts. Harry followed him and collapsed onto the sweaty blonde, breathing harshly as he took one of Draco's hands in his own and brought it to his lips, kissing the red, angry crescents his fingernails had left on the meat of his palm.
"Harry! Get off!" Draco shouted unneccessarily, because in the next second he was throwing Harry off of him and dashing over to the table holding his cauldron wearing nothing but a pair of gray wool socks.
Harry flopped bonelessly onto his back on the table top, content to run his eyes over Draco's slightly pink backside and shoulders. Perhaps he'd gone a little too rough, but his boyfriend had seemed to enjoy it. He watched Draco carefully add the next three ingredients, working with a deftness and professionalism that was completely out of place in someone who had just been thoroughly fucked not five minutes ago. It might have irritated him had he not been too busy staring at Draco's ass to care.
The blonde currently being visually molested turned around and scowled at his lecherous boyfriend. "Pervert," he accused, dumping five spoonfulls of powders bicorn horn into the now lightly bubbling golden brown potion.
Harry chose to ignore the accusation and instead let his eyes roam in a lazy exploration of Draco's frontside, now that tur turned back to face him. "So, how long do we have this time?"
Draco grinned, crossing back over to climb over the table and sit astride his boyfriend's lap. "Long enough."