Work Text:
Harry tangled his fingers in the soft, blonde hair cascading down Malfoy's face in gentle waves and with a firm grip, tilted his head back slightly.
God, he looked beautiful like this, kneeling before Harry with his throat exposed and bobbing with every swallow. His irises enveloped almost entirely by the black of his pupils, blown from arousal, big tears rolling slowly down his cheeks, and his eyes firmly locked on Harry’s. His full lips stretched obscenely around the thick shaft pounding mercilessly into his throat, making him gag and slobber down his chin. And his hand a blur of motion on his dick carelessly pulled out of the front of his trousers.
The sobs and desperate moans he was letting out were even better, kicking up Harry’s arousal, nearly making him tip over the edge. Malfoy was so unrestrained like this, free to be as loud and as filthy as he wanted, not caring about appearances, finally giving in to his desires. In the relaxed slump of his shoulders and the vice-like grip he had on Potter’s thighs, urging him to move faster, harder, more- it was obvious how much he needed this, how desperately he wanted everything Harry could give. And Harry was willing to give him anything he wanted, when he asked so prettily, and was taking his cock so well.
“I’m close,” Harry warned, giving him time to pull off if he so wished. But Malfoy just urged him on, hollowing his cheeks and sucking even harder than before, moaning lowly in his throat, and focusing his ministrations on the sensitive tip of Harry’s arousal.
It was all too much for Harry, his body overcome with pleasure as he came in Malfoy’s eager mouth a moment later with a guttural grunt of satisfaction. His knees buckled under him so he sank to the floor in front of Malfoy, who was still hard and now masturbating furiously, with his eyes closed and his head still tilted back, his enticing lips hanging open and panting.
Harry replaced Malfoy’s hand and started pulling his cock with long, fast strokes. He sealed his mouth on the sensitive spot below the blonde’s ear, sucking and nipping delicate skin with his teeth. Malfoy was getting close, it was apparent in the way he was arching his back and his moans transformed into low whines.
Harry quickened the pace of his strokes and knowing how much Malfoy loved having his hair pulled, he fisted his free hand in the long strands and tugged, exposing even more of the beautiful pale skin of his neck.
It must have been enough to bring Malfoy to the edge and tip him over as he came moments later with a bit out a moan. “Merlin,” he gasped, shuddering through the aftershocks of his orgasm, and batting Harry’s hand away when he felt the uncomfortable feeling of overstimulation creeping in over the edges of his still fuzzy brain.
Potter leaned in for a kiss, his arousal still high, but especially now after making Malfoy writhe in pleasure and come in the span of a few minutes. He was elated and a pleasurable thrill went through his entire body at the first touch of their lips. Malfoy had an amazing mouth- so full, so wet, and slack from the pounding he had just taken. Harry could still taste himself on those pretty lips. However, the kiss ended too quickly, when Malfoy pushed him harshly away and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Potter?” he sneered with barely contained anger.
Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged but inside he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, he knew what was coming next.
“I told you to not kiss me. I’m not kissing my casual shags and you’re not my boyfriend, Potter. So don’t get ahead of yourself here,” he sniffed indignantly and with a wave of his wand had cleaned them both. He tucked himself back into his trousers, standing up gracefully.
“Sorry,” Harry grumbled, he knew he had fucked up now. He shouldn’t have done that, it was clear that Malfoy didn’t want to be kissed by him.
"Refrain from doing it again, Potter," Malfoy spat, swiftly leaving the room they took to using for their ‘meetings’.
Unfortunately, it was sometimes really hard for Harry to stop himself from snogging the blonde’s face senseless. It was just that Malfoy was beautiful. After the war, he had let his hair grow out, the soft blond strands framing his pretty, pointy face, cascading down to his shoulder blades. Harry loved tugging at it and always felt that twinge of disappointment which came with the realization that he was only allowed to touch that silky hair mid-sex, when Malfoy was too preoccupied to mind, sometimes encouraging Harry to tug on his hair even more. Malfoy has put some muscle on his thin frame too. It was evident that living without the crazed, power-hungry maniac under his roof made all the difference he needed to do better for himself. His skin regained that healthy glow it lost during 6th year, he wasn't sickly thin anymore, and he even hit a growth spurt, making him one of the tallest lads in their year.
However, it was not only his looks that drew Harry in. If it was only the looks, he wouldn't have had a problem controlling his feelings. No, Malfoy had actually changed after the war and tried to better himself, day after day proving he was a different man. Most of the time he kept to himself and when the occasional hex or curse went his way he didn’t fight back, merely using protective charms to defend himself. He took to spending his free time in the library pouring over advanced potions books or simply doing his schoolwork. But Harry had seen him helping younger students struggling with the subject, even though they were apprehensive towards him at the beginning they came around pretty quickly upon seeing how great of a tutor Malfoy was.
It was weird for Harry seeing this different side of Malfoy. The one void of haughtiness and sneer. The side of him that was picking his fights, not engaging in idiotic squabbles and refraining from insulting people based on previous prejudice. Harry knew that it couldn’t have been easy for him too. After all, from the very beginning, Malfoys had taught their son about pureblood prejudice handed down from generation to generation. As a Malfoy heir, he was expected to respect and honour family's traditions, no matter how outdated their beliefs were, and always act with this prejudice in mind. Harry saw how Malfoy sometimes stopped before responding, he observed the haughty expression on his face being forced down, replaced by something more neutral. It was apparent that these changes were made with conscious effort and Harry could appreciate that.
One of the only things that didn't change much after coming back to Hogwarts, was their rivalry. But this year it wasn't so vicious, more like banter than anything meant to hurt or scar. If he was being honest, Harry appreciated it. This was the closest to normalcy he got after the war. Malfoy was the only constant in his life and that never really changed. He was glad because constant fawning over him wasn't something he wanted.
It made sense to Harry that Malfoy and he fell into bed together. Well, not bed exactly as the first time they had sex, they found themselves in one of the abandoned corridors. It happened at the very beginning of the 8th year when Harry was hiding from other people's gaze, always on him. He stumbled upon Malfoy and then it all happened too fast to remember every detail. He was sure that they were trading barbs and between one word and the next, Malfoy had him pinned to the wall, kissing and biting his neck, and rutting against him. It was fast, urgent, and so hot. They were a blur of motion and sensations, tangled into one. But it all ended just as fast as it began with Malfoy harshly shoving him away. His cheeks were heated but he still glared at Harry and spat that he would hex his balls off if anyone heard about what happened. Then he stormed off and left Harry confused and aroused.
After this first time, it kept happening and soon they’ve fallen into a ‘no strings attached’ relationship. There were only two rules that Malfoy insisted on; one, no one can know; two, no kissing. And now Harry went and fucked it up because he couldn’t contain his arousal. Sure, he didn’t like these rules and his feelings towards Malfoy were not helping with holding back on the kissing front too, but he should’ve been able to respect his limits. He owned Malfoy an apology, he realized with a frown.
---
“You alright, mate?” asked Ron during dinner, exchanging a concerned look with Hermione.
Harry sighed. No, he wasn’t okay. He still thought about what had happened earlier that day and how to apologize for it. However, he couldn’t exactly say all of this to his friends, even though he was fairly certain they suspected he was hiding something from them.
“Just tired,” he responded. “Christmas is right around the corner.”
It was a good enough explanation, seeing as every year during the holidays people went crazy and tried to get his attention any way possible. Even now, he was still receiving sweets doused with love potions, enchanted gifts meant to bond him to the person who gave it to him, or even normal presents but in such quantities that he was tired just thinking about them. He never really liked his fame but during the holidays it was becoming a real curse.
Ron patted him on the back in consolation and grimaced. Hermione just sighed and nodded in understanding.
“McGonagall announced that Christmas feast will be held a week before the holiday break,” Hermione said, slightly changing the subject. "Luna and Ginny are helping with decorations this year and I'm working with Professor Flitwick on enchanting them,” she beamed with pride and jumped into describing every single charm used and how she helped to improve it.
Harry wasn't really listening to her anymore though because he spotted Malfoy entering the Great Hall and heading to the 8th year table. He didn't look worse for wear or any different than what was normal for him these days. At least that was indication enough that Harry’s earlier misstep didn’t shake him up too much. Harry heaved a quiet sigh of relief. Unfortunately, it didn't mean that he was off the hook, he realized, as Malfoy glared at him discreetly when he noticed Harry's gaze.
For the rest of the meal, he wasn’t paying much thought to his friends because he was constantly watching Malfoy, trying to catch his attention. All for nought as it was pretty obvious that Malfoy was deliberately ignoring him, chatting with everyone else but pointedly not looking in his direction. Harry was the bigger man now, he’s grown and knew that his irritation was stemming from the fact that he wanted Malfoy’s attention and craved Malfoy’s eyes on him at all times. The blonde was able to stir such strong emotions in Harry even before their arrangement and now, that he knew how captivating those eyes were from up close, he never wanted Malfoy to stop looking at him.
In his musings, he barely registered Malfoy standing up and heading towards the exit of the Great Hall. Harry realized that it was his chance to catch him alone and talk to him, so he excused himself and when his friends waved him away, he hastily made his retreat in hopes of catching up to the other man. He spotted Malfoy rounding the corner, heading in the direction of the 8th year dorms. Quickening his pace Harry called, “Malfoy, wait.”
Said man faltered in his stride but quickly composed himself, straightening his back, and turning to face Potter with a sneer of, “What do you want?”
“We need to talk,” Harry stated, coming closer.
“We have nothing to talk about, Potter,” Malfoy sniped and made a move to brush past and leave Potter behind. But he was faster and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist to keep him from slipping away.
"Don't be a git about it," he rolled his eyes. "I just want to talk, come on," Harry went to pull Malfoy along with a grip still firm around his wrist but after he took a step, he bounced off of some invisible barrier. "What the…" he trailed off and touched the obstacle he couldn't see. It shimmered with light magic and bent a little but didn't let his hand go through it.
"What did you do, Malfoy?" he accused.
At the same time, Malfoy tried to discreetly sneak out, when Potter let go of him and stared at the thin air like a lunatic, but he too was unable to move further than a step away.
"What did I do?" he bristled and straightened up to glare down at the shorter man. "It's your fault we can't move, Potter. You wanted to jammer at me unnecessarily, not I. So just drop whatever foolish spell you used and kindly bugger off," Malfoy demanded, feeling quite uncomfortable with their proximity. He tried to mask it with an icy look he directed at Potter. However, the man in question knew him too well not to see right through the mask of indifference.
Harry didn't want to fight him on it, even though the blonde was riling him up as bad as ever. It was a testament to how far gone on the bloody git he was that he was willing to let Malfoy have the last word.
If Malfoy was surprised by the lack of a snippy response, he didn't show it, instead opting to find out why they couldn't get away from this spot. He ignored Potter’s intense gaze and decided that leaving him behind was the smartest option now, so he performed a small spell-detecting charm. A thin mist spread from the tip of his wand revealing a thin layer of magic. He traced the source of it and gasped in indignation when he spotted what it was. He tried to spell it away but to no avail.
"Do something, Potter," he snapped finally.
Harry looked up as well and cursed loudly upon seeing bright green leaves of mistletoe hovering some inches above their heads. Fuck, he meant to apologize to Malfoy for kissing him without permission, not get them stuck under the enchanted plant that would not let them go unless they made out. However, something was nagging him in the back of his head, something was not quite right, but he couldn't understand what exactly.
"You know I can't do anything, Malfoy, you can't just spell it away," he sighed in exasperation.
"You're the Golden Boy Wonder, surely magic of some plant is nothing for you," but he scoffed and levelled Harry with an icy glare and asked sharply, "Is this some new ploy of yours to force yourself upon me again?"
Harry bristled, "I'm sorry, okay? It was a mistake and I shouldn't have done that but…" But he couldn't end his sentence because Malfoy cut him off rudely.
"So now our affair was a mistake to you, was it?" he demanded harshly.
God, Harry was so annoyed by him but he still couldn't ignore how beautiful Malfoy looked with his cheeks flushed from anger and his eyes gleaming with resentment. He must be a masochist to find him charming like that. He supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that it was the Malfoy he recognized from before the war, and not this mild-mannered and impersonal mask of a polite, changed man he was with everyone else.
"Clearly, if kissing you means you're fucking pissed and won't even look at me."
"I didn't want you to kiss me, you had no right to do that!" Malfoy hissed, averting his gaze.
Harry scoffed, "I think that's bullshit, Malfoy. You are so full of shit, I know you want to kiss me, we wouldn’t be trapped here otherwise, " he declared with a raised eyebrow. It all made sense, why the mistletoe trapped them and wouldn't budge, and how Malfoy was avoiding looking at him.
Malfoy scoffed at that but still didn't meet Harry's gaze when he answered, "Wishful thinking here, I see, Potter. And," he continued before Harry had a chance to respond. “We are stuck here because it’s a fucking mistletoe, it’s what it does, you absolute cretin.”
Harry laughed at that- to Malfoy’s complete astonishment. He came closer to the stubborn git to finally look him in the eyes.
“Maybe it did do that,” he conceded with an ironic smile and after a short pause, in which Malfoy smirked at him triumphantly, he added, “Before Hermione enchanted it.”
The smirk gave way to the flash of panic that Malfoy tried to conceal. But Harry had seen the crack in his mask, he'd seen the panic, the pain, the resignation. All this was obvious in the slight downturn to his lips, the narrowing of his eyes, and the rapid paleness of his previously flushed face.
“What did she do?” demanded Malfoy.
“She developed a spell that makes sure both parties are willing to get trapped, a consent spell if you will,” Harry answered easily. “So can you finally admit that you want to…”
“You want me to say that, what?” Malfoy exploded, poking Harry in the chest. “That the great Chosen One can have anyone he wants and even I can’t resist him? Is that what you want to hear?!” He was seething in barely concealed fury, his eyes gleaming dangerously. But he deflated in an instant, turning his gaze away. “Go on then, laugh, or run along and tell your Gryffindor lackeys how you managed to seduce me.”
Harry shook his head with sad disbelief, “For a Slytherin, you are really quite clueless, Draco,” he sighed.
Draco spluttered but before he could come up with any sort of insult, Potter stepped up to him and tugged him down, crashing their lips together.
That was not what Draco was expecting from this encounter at all. He was afraid that Potter would make fun of his infatuation when it became obvious that he was very much interested in kissing the smug idiot. But he was not expecting plush lips softly brushing his own as if asking permission or gentle hands tangled in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He wasn’t stupid enough to deny himself any longer the thing he wanted the most from the man, so he kissed him back without holding back his passion.
Their previous encounters were all about hard strokes, fast touches, and mutual orgasms. He was giving it all he’d got but he refused to give up his lips to the man he thought he could never have, not like he wanted to. He needed to protect his own heart from the inevitable heartbreak. But when Potter broke his rule and kissed him earlier, his world shook at its core. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to refuse him anything, not after his bruising kiss was seared in Dracos memory so vividly.
But now it was so different than anything they did together. It was a passion burning between them, keeping them hot but never burning them up, it was intimate and affectionate, full of emotions. Draco wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, he was so full right now, as if all his missing pieces finally slotted themselves into place, making him feel whole again.
When they finally broke apart, they were both panting lightly. Draco rested his forehead on Harry’s, finally looking him in the eye.
“No more stupid rules, what do you say, Draco?” Harry asked with a warm smile, sneaking his hands around the taller man, hugging him close.
“I like the sound of that.”