lazalot_anreads (lazalot_anreads) wrote in hp_temptation,
lazalot_anreads
lazalot_anreads
hp_temptation

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My God

Title: My God

Author: Lazalot_Anreads

Beta: dracovontrapp

Word Count: 2,365

Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry

Challenge: B-Day fic for _beetle_, who requested a 7th Year AU with little war focus

Summary: In which Harry and Draco suck, fuck, and plan the future.

Notes: AU 7th Year

 

 

               Harry hates dancing, and he doesn’t have a date anyway, so at the first opportunity, he sneaks out of the Great Hall and heads toward the Quidditch pitch. ‘Bloody Valentine’s Day,’ he thinks, still pissed off that everyone who had asked him to be their date had been looking at his scar. He thinks it shouldn’t be so important now that Voldemort is dead, but if anything, the Wizarding world annoys him about it more.

                He is not expecting to find Draco Malfoy lying on his back in the grass, staring up at the stars with a slightly dreamy look in his eyes, but he is not surprised. Malfoy notices him immediately, and he tenses and sneers up at the brunet.

“I hate you, Potter,” he says with a cheeky grin, and pats the ground next to him.

                “Ditto, Malfoy.” Harry sits cross-legged on the grass with a relieved sigh. They often spend moments together like this one, quietly contemplating the universe, content just with the company. Harry thinks about the time, mostly, and change. He’s never asked what Draco thinks about, knowing the blond will tell him if he decides he wants to.

                Tonight, however, Harry isn’t content with silence.

“I bloody hate Valentine’s Day,” he says sullenly, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. “Where is Parkinson, anyway? Isn’t she supposed to be your date?”

                Draco snorts, obviously amused. “She’s shagging Hannah Abbott in the Slytherin common room. I walked in on them, it was rather hilarious, actually.”

                Harry, who is decidedly gay, says, “Ugh.”

                “You are so unrefined, Potter.” Draco sits up next to him, brushing against his shoulder. “Honestly.”

                “You know it!” Harry grins, leaning a little closer to Draco. Draco arches an eyebrow disdainfully and shrugs, letting his hand come to rest on the middle of Harry’s thigh in an obvious invitation.

                Harry is surprised, but his cock surges and he licks his lips. ‘This is interesting.’ He rolls his hips a bit as he asks, “You want to fuck me, Malfoy?”

                “Yes,” Draco admits, and the next thing Harry knows, they’re kissing.

                It’s a rather tender kiss, not rough like Harry has always thought it would be, but he likes it, and groans deep in his throat as he pulls the other boy closer.

                Their tongues dance together, slick and hot, dirty in a forbidden sort of way that makes Harry harder than he’s ever been. Draco is sex personified, tracing light circles high on the brunet’s denim-clad thigh and fucking Harry’s mouth with an incredibly wicked tongue.

                “Anyone could see us,” Harry points out breathlessly between kisses. He rather likes the idea of being caught, though, so lets Draco push him down onto his back and straddle him. The blond breaks their kiss and sits up, his hands tugging at the bottom of Harry’s t-shirt until the other boy lifts up and raises his arms so they can be rid of it.

                “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Draco asks knowingly, circling one of Harry’s taut nipples with a teasing finger. He grinds his arse against the brunet’s cock and smiles when Harry gasps and thrusts up against him in reaction. “What would you like me to do to you, Potter?”

                Harry is having trouble keeping his breathing steady. Draco looks glorious above him, his skin and eyes glowing in the pale moonlight. He is a proud and devastatingly sexy creature, and Harry has never bottomed before, but he wants to now, tonight, for Draco.

“I want you to suck me,” he says, and his voice is low and not the least bit hesitant. “I want you to fuck me.”

                Draco leers at him and runs his hands over Harry’s chest, palms brushing nipples and it’s all the brunet can do not to moan. He doesn’t want to look too eager, even though he’s been gagging for it since sixth year.

“I’d like that.” Draco smiles, leaning down to suck and lick at Harry’s throat. “I’ll bet you taste magnificent.” Harry groans and bucks underneath him, because that is undoubtedly the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. Draco Malfoy sincerely wants to suck his cock. Harry Potter sincerely wants his cock sucked.

                They take their time undressing each other, enjoying the sensation of hands sliding tenderly along every new inch of skin. When they are naked together, Draco holds himself just short of covering Harry’s body with his own and whispers in his ear, “Tell me how much you want this.”

                Harry shudders, reaching up to pull the blond down on top of his body. Their cocks touch and he groans. “I burn for you.” His voice is thick with sex and honesty. “I think about you all of the time. Every night when I wank, it’s to fantasies of you. You drive me mad, Malfoy.”

                “I knew it.” Draco kisses his neck again, licks a long stripe from his collarbone to his ear. “You never could hide from me. I know all your secrets, Harry.” The blond makes his name sound like a sin, and Harry thinks idly that maybe it is. “I think about you, too, you know.”

                “I know,” Harry says, and he does. He’s known this would happen between them since their truce began. “What do you think about most often?”

                Draco leans up to kiss his lips, and Harry forgets all about his question until Draco looks him in the eye, rolls his hips, and says, “Sucking you.” They kiss again, wet and dirty, and Harry thinks maybe he could come from this alone, but he doesn’t want to. He pushes at Draco’s shoulders and the blond takes the hint, trailing that gorgeous mouth down Harry’s chest and stomach, fucking the brunet’s belly button with his tongue.

                Harry gasps and arches up, knows Draco wants him to beg, but he won’t give in so easily. “Suck my dick, Malfoy.” His voice comes out commanding like he wants it to, and he props himself up on his elbows to stare at the sexy blond who has his mouth poised over Harry’s aching erection. “Suck it now.”

                There’s a lusty glint in Draco’s eyes as he takes Harry’s cock in slowly, holding the brunet’s hips down so he can’t thrust. His mouth is warm and wet and his pouty lips look like they belong wrapped around Harry’s cock. He tells the blond as much, and Draco groans rather loudly around his dick. Harry makes a strange gasping noise and falls back, hands tangling in silky blond hair and tugging a little desperately. “More,” he chokes.

                Draco stays steady, though, taking as much of Harry as he can before slowly sucking his way back up and licking at the pre-cum leaking from Harry’s slit. He does that same thing over and over again, until Harry is a mindless idiot babbling about Merlin only knows what. It’s too much, and he pulls Draco away by the hair. “I want to come on your face,” he says hoarsely, and Draco moans.

                “Yes,” he hisses, pulling at Harry’s cock almost viciously. “Do it!” That’s it for Harry, and he barely finds the strength to raise his head to watch his seed splatter on his lover’s face. Draco catches some in his mouth, and he’s got to be the most erotic thing Harry’s ever seen in his life. The way he leans back and swallows so deliberately, licks his lips so slowly, is more than enough to get Harry hard again.

                “Come here,” Harry whispers, reaching up to tug Draco down. He licks every drop of his cum off of the blond’s face, and the fierce sense of ownership he feels takes him by surprise. He likes it, though, likes knowing that the god kissing him so sweetly is his. That nobody else will ever touch or taste Draco like this, because Harry will kill anyone who tries.

                Draco mutters a lubrication spell against his lips and Harry sighs and spreads his legs as wide as he can when the blond slips the first finger in. It isn’t nearly enough. “More,” he demands breathlessly, grinding his hips against the blond’s hand. “Now. I’m not gonna break, Malfoy.”

                “You’re already broken.” Draco laughs as he teases Harry with his finger, pulling back to look Harry over appreciatively. “Why else would you be here?”

                “Cock tease,” Harry whimpers as a second finger joins the first, thrusting a bit harder but pointedly ignoring his prostate. “You know why I’m here.”

                “Yes. You want to be my Valentine.” Draco smirks, adding a third finger and curling them.

Harry starts to beg, then, writhing and twisting, arching up to take those wonderful fingers deeper. “More, harder,” he pants, “Merlin, Draco, please! I need your cock!”

Draco pulls his fingers out and lifts Harry’s hips, plunging inside in one smooth thrust. Harry’s arse burns, but the pain is good, and his lover is wild above him now, thrusting again and again, hitting the brunet’s sweet spot with every buck of his hips.

Harry watches the blond use his body for the Draco’s pleasure and he tugs at his own nipples, feeling completely free for the first time in his life. For once, he doesn’t have to be anywhere but where he is right now, beneath his god, letting Draco take the control for once. Harry’s never really been out of control, before, and he basks in the glory of it. He wishes the moment would last forever, but knows it can’t. It doesn’t matter, though, because this is the first time, but there will never be a last.

When Draco finally comes, Harry is right there with him, untouched cock covering his chest with semen while his lover fills him with his own seed. Both boys are flushed and panting with pleasure. When they kiss, Draco whispers into his mouth about how perfect this is, about how perfect they are. When the blond finally pulls out and flops onto his back next to Harry, the brunet sighs with disappointment. He wishes Draco could always be inside him, making him whole.

“I promise,” Draco whispers, once they’re dressed again and cuddling on the grass, “I will always take care of you.”

“I know, love,” Harry smiles against Draco’s chest, “and I you.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Draco asks, pulling the brunet more closely to his side. “That years of fighting have led to this.”

It had begun in sixth year, their truce. All alone in the library, working on an essay for Potions, Draco and Harry had discovered that without an audience, they actually got on quite well. Not too long after that, Harry had found Draco crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and found out the truth.

Draco had been desperate for help by that point, and had said as much. He’d also said he only trusted Harry, and had made the brunet swear in blood to keep his secret before telling him everything that Harry had suspected from the beginning of that year. Harry, in turn, had told Draco absolutely everything he knew about Voldemort, the Prophecy, the Order, and anything else he could think of that had to do with the war – after Draco had sworn his secrecy in his own blood, of course.

They began to plan. Though Draco thought the headmaster nothing more than a manipulative old git, he didn’t truly want to kill him. They couldn’t get around it, though, and in the end, it was Harry who cast the Killing Curse while Draco cried and kept the door barricaded so there would be no witnesses. Harry didn’t cry until he ‘found’ Dumbledore’s body, and even then he had really been crying for Draco, who’d had to leave with the loyal Death Eaters and Snape to celebrate.

Harry had been made to wait the entire summer to find out if The Plan was still working, and he’d never been so relieved to see someone as he was to see Draco, waiting for him in the last compartment where they had decided they’d meet at the beginning of term if The Plan had worked and Draco had been allowed to finish school. Harry had been so happy to see the Slytherin, he’d kissed him right on the lips.

Harry laughs softly, thinking of the look Draco had given him afterwards. “Malfoy, everything we do is strange.”

“Yeah,” Draco agrees after a moment, brushing a kiss over his scar, “I suppose you’re right. A disloyal Death Eater and the hero of the Wizarding world, plotting to overthrow the Ministry of Magic. Do you have your list, yet?” He sits up and Harry follows him, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket. Draco pulls out his own list and they switch, reading silently.

As powerful as they are, they know others are needed if they truly want to change the Wizarding world, which they do. Harry has spent the last month working on his list of ‘recruits’, and he is ninety percent positive that the people he chose will be perfect for their cause. He is one hundred percent sure of Draco’s list, because his lover never does anything unless it’s perfect. He’s annoying that way.

Parkinson? Really?” Harry laughs. “You sure she won’t be too busy with Hannah?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Draco smirks at him. “Granger and Weasley, I get, but Longbottom? What the hell do we need him for?”

So they go on, alternately erasing and adding names, until they’re finished and each have a list of people to approach with their idea. They already have a location – Snape, who has been helping them almost since the beginning, has been made headmaster, and they’ve been working on the Chamber of Secrets ever since. It should be ready by the time they get their people together.

“You know,” Harry tells Draco, “I hate being famous just for being alive. After this, we’ll be famous for something we did.”

“Might not be the kind of fame you’re used to, Golden Boy.” Draco kisses him. “Not everyone is going to agree with us.”

“I know,” Harry agrees, smiling a bit sadly. “As long as we’ve got each other, though, right? We can do this.”

“Right.”

 

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