Work Text:
Harry didn’t notice that he was crying until Draco frowned and stopped thrusting.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly wiping at his face and turning it away. Draco put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
“We can stop if you—” he started but Harry shook his head, curling a hand around Draco’s neck.
“Just hold me,” he muttered and pulled him down, so he wasn’t looking him in the eyes. Draco sighed.
“Darling,” he said, and something squeezed in Harry’s stomach. He whipped off his glasses and dropped them on the bed next to his head so he could press his face into Draco’s shoulder. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” he said, voice thick like porridge. His day had already been absolute shit, he didn’t want this to be ruined too.
“Harry, darling,” Draco said, in the soft tone he used when Harry had panic attacks or couldn’t recognise his own face in the mirror. “What’s wrong?” Harry sniffled, wrapping his legs tighter around Draco’s waist.
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he said, trailing his fingers up and down Draco’s spine. “Everything is wrong. This whole day has been shit.” Draco combed his fingers through his hair, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold back the tears.
“Mhm.” Draco kissed his head, and a sob slipped out of Harry before could stop it. This was the most unattractive thing Harry had ever done in bed, it was no wonder Draco wanted to stop. Nothing killed an erection like sobbing into your partner’s shoulder.
“Give me a moment, I can—” he said, unwrapping his legs from Draco to scoot up on the bed. He did not expect Draco to grab his thigh to keep him still. Harry frowned, confused.
“You can cry if you need to,” he said, and when Harry sniffled he pulled back to look him in the face. He was biting his lip, cheeks flushed. Harry swallowed. Draco was still hard. He was carefully watching Harry’s face.
“You— You want to see me cry?” he asked, and the way Draco hissed when he inhaled told Harry everything.
Harry rubbed his eyes, the conflicting feeling of arousal and exhausted sadness mixing in his stomach and making his ears and cheeks tingle strangely.
“I’m a mess when I cry,” Harry murmured, locking his ankles together behind Draco’s back. Draco kissed his wet cheeks and then his lips.
“You’re always gorgeous to me, darling,” he said and started thrusting again, and Harry sobbed quietly. He clung to Draco, arms tight around his neck, kissing him as well as he could. Each thrust sent sparks up his spine, twining around that lump of sadness in his chest and making tears stream down his cheeks. He felt overwhelmed, wrung out, and he couldn’t stop crying. Draco kissed his cheeks when he couldn’t kiss him back, lips trembling too much to respond, and Harry cupped the back of his head. Draco was stroking his hair in a soothing motion and Harry tried to return it, even though his hands felt clumsy and unsteady.
Each fresh wave of tears brought Draco’s lips back to his cheeks, kissing them away and frequently licking his lips. He was tasting his tears, Harry realised, and he sniffled. His head felt light and he was glad he was the one laying down. Draco fucked him steadily, torsos pressed together and hands caressing his hair and face. He was getting a little rougher, snapping his hips faster, and Harry pressed his head into the pillow and cried louder. It didn’t hurt him— it felt amazing —but it was all too much together with his mess of a head.
“Darling,” and Harry squeezed the back of his neck, “darling. Don’t hold back.”
“I’m not,” Harry mumbled, loudly sniffling and blinking to clear his eyes of tears. Draco watched his face, intently but his mouth soft, and kissed his cheeks again, showered them in gentle pecks.
“You’re so tense,” he said, running a hand down his side. Harry bit his lip, and he tugged a little on Draco’s hair.
“You don’t hold back. You can lick my face if you want,” he said, snorting when Draco swallowed hard. Harry turned his cheek towards him and Draco only hesitated for a moment before his tongue gently touched Harry’s cheek. He lapped up the tear tracks before kissing him again. Harry felt overwhelmed by everything in his head, in his body, and it brought another wave of tears, even more intense than previously. He was sobbing his heart out between their lips, unable to keep his eyes open for more than a second, and he dug his heels into Draco’s back. It was like that disgusting feeling in his stomach and chest was being fucked out of him.
Harry’s orgasm came as a surprise, mind too focused on crying to notice it creeping up his body, and he wrapped himself impossibly tighter around Draco. He didn’t stop fucking him, and Harry was so grateful for that. He wanted it to overwhelm him, to take over his mind with pleasure so he couldn’t think of anything but Draco’s cock. He was lightheaded, almost dizzy, and he shuddered on each inhale.
Draco licked his cheeks, kissed them, kissed his mouth and touched their tongues together. Each snap of his hips pushed Harry against the pillows, extended his climax until he was shaking, squeezing, and Draco came with a deep groan and his open mouth pressed to Harry’s face.
They laid in quiet for a moment, Harry’s sobs softening into sniffles, and then Draco pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss him deeply.
“You’ve got weird fetishes,” Harry mumbled and Draco huffed a tense little laugh.
“You like being choked,” he said, putting his hand over Harry’s throat to demonstrate and smirking a little when Harry’s breath hitched. “I think we’re even on weirdness.” Draco pulled out of him and laid down by his side, coaxing him easily into his arms to hold him tight.
“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, tugging the blanket up from the bottom of the bed with his foot and draping it over them. Draco tipped his chin up with two fingers and kissed him again, lingering on his tear-wet lips.
“Darling.”