Chapter Text
Draco took off his shoes almost as soon as he got out of the floo. He ran his fingers through his hand and couldn’t help but stare at the silver band on his left ring finger.
He had a fiancée.
Harry had asked him in June. They had gone to the beach for the weekend, as just a quick get away. Draco had been working tirelessly to get his new potion through trial phases and ready for werewolves; Harry had been promoted to Deputy Head Auror. Draco’s head had been spinning from how busy he was, he hadn’t really thought twice about the trip. Though he had given Harry the green light to ask a few months previous, no alarm bells went up when Harry had booked the house by the beach.
When he arrived to the house that day in June, Harry had a romantic dinner for the two of them. And it never crossed Draco’s mind that Harry would ask the question. They ate slowly, chatting and laughing about their days—weeks really since it felt like they had hardly seen each other. When Harry finally got around to asking, Draco had jumped out of his chair.
“Holy shit.” Draco couldn’t really breathe.
Harry laughed as he pulled out a small black box, “I love you Draco. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life fighting our ridiculously busy schedules to spend time with you. Will you please marry me?”
Draco had tackled him, which ended up with both of them having several bruises. Harry laughed on the ground, pinned beneath Draco as Draco kissed his face.
Draco cupped Harry’s cheeks, kneeling over him, “Yes.”
Harry pushed him a bit so he could sit up, and then grabbed the black velvet box. He opened it to reveal a simple platinum wedding band. Draco had told Harry he wanted silver, he looked better with cooler tones and was much more inclined to wear silver than gold. It was clearly of high quality and looked spectacular. Harry slid on the band.
“Did you get yourself one?” Draco asked. That was something they talked about, that they would both wear engagement rings.
“No, but we have an appointment tomorrow where we can pick one out together for me.” Harry said, and Draco smiled.
“I love you.” Draco whispered, letting his thumb run along the ring.
“I love you.” Harry responded, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “You really didn’t see it coming?”
“No!” Draco swatted his arm, “I’ve been busy; I’ve been trying to get my potion through the trial period.”
“I know—I just thought it was all a bit obvious—or I was being obvious.” Harry blushed.
“I didn’t notice.” Draco told him.
“Some auror you’d be.”
“Shut up Mr. Deputy Head Auror—not all of us get to be the youngest one in a century.”
“Shut up.” Harry blushed. But he kissed Draco silly to keep him quiet.
They would be married at thirty, which Draco thought was a perfectly respectable age to get married. Witch Weekly had made a big deal that they were engaged at twenty nine, but would they get married the same year so they could be married before the ominous thirty? It was ridiculous. And Draco had no intention of planning a wedding within a year. It was sort of silly, but they were planning their wedding for October of the following year, so their wedding anniversary would be on the same date as their current anniversary. Their seven year anniversary was why Draco had come home early from work. Harry had something planned—he was being a bit sneaky about it. They had been together for seven years. Draco couldn’t believe it. He had been with Harry for as many years as he should have gone to Hogwarts.
“Harry?” He called out. The house was dark, which was odd, especially if Potter was left to his own devices. He had every light on like he was occupying every room at once.
“I’ll be right down!” Harry yelled from somewhere in the house. Draco couldn’t quite tell what floor he was on. He heard a loud bang.
“I hope you didn’t break anything!” Draco hollered back.
“No!” Harry replied a bit too quickly, so Draco was nearly certain he wasn’t being honest. He waited a bit and then heard Harry coming down the steps, “Hey.” He smiled brightly when he saw him, kissing Draco on the lips.
“Do you want to tell me what I’m doing home?” Draco asked.
“No.” Harry’s grin turned too bright and mischievous.
Draco just scowled, “I don’t understand why you like surprising me.”
“I like watching you squirm.” Harry batted his eyelashes, which brought a reluctant smirk to Draco’s face.
“Not as much as I like watching you.” Draco said, “Now what are we doing?”
“I have a bag packed.” Harry was actually quite good at packing for Draco, much to his annoyance. It made it easier for him to do things like this. He must have made a face, because Harry laughed, “I think you secretly enjoy this.”
“I do not.” Draco assured him.
“Come on, we have to get a portkey.”
“Merlin help me.” Draco sighed, turning toward the door. Harry slung the black bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door. It was a small bag with an undetectable extension charm, packed for both of them. He looked a bit nervously excited as they walked out the door, “I don’t know what your anxious about Harry. You already proposed.”
“And you said yes.” Harry reminded him, taking his left hand. Harry rubbed the band with his thumb, because he was a sentimental prat.
“You better have put the portkey close, I’m not walking forever—”
“One time!” Harry interrupted, “I did that one time and it was four years ago!”
“Only takes once—and really?” Draco laughed, “I think we have to break up, we’ve been together too long.”
Harry snorted, “You’re going to think back at this and laugh when we’re fifty.”
Draco scowled, “I plan on staying this young forever. I’ll turn thirty and that’s it—not more aging for me.”
Harry laughed, “Come on princess.”
“That is princess stereotyping.” Draco huffed indignantly, which only made Harry role his eyes. They walked around the corner to see an old rain boot.
“This is us.” Harry touched the corner of the boot and Draco grabbed the other side. It was only a moment before they were both pulled off.
Draco recognized where they were as soon as they landed. He smiled brightly at Harry.
“You’re getting another tattoo?” He hadn’t gotten one in two years, and it had been the only addition since moving into Grimmauld place six years ago. Despite being a bit dramatic, Hermione’s words had an effect on Harry. He slowed down on his tattoos. The only one he had added was a beautiful minimalistic drawing of Hogwarts on his back between Hedwig and the phoenix.
“That, and we have a flat here for the weekend.” Harry said, squeezing his hand. Draco kissed Harry’s lips.
“A weekend in Paris is what I needed.” Draco told him.
“Come on.” Harry pulled him along. Draco wanted to skip he was so excited—that and fuck him. They both had looked over designs over the years, chatting about which ones Harry should get eventually. He was excited to see which one Harry would choose. There were a few designs of a black dog for Sirius, a werewolf for Lupin, the sword of Gryffindor and a few others. Draco hoped he wouldn’t be getting the sword on their anniversary, but he didn’t care too much.
“What are you going to get?” Draco asked as they walked up to Guinevere’s tattoo shop.
“I’ll show you.” Harry encouraged him a bit shakily up the steps.
“’Arry! Is that you?” She called as he opened the door.
“It’s me.” Harry responded. The buzzing sound of the machine stopped and she bounded around the corner, hugging him tightly.
“It haz been too long.” She kissed his cheeks, “And Draco!” She kissed his cheeks too, “I saw ze paperz—even ‘ere it waz all over that you two were affianced.” She took his hand to see the ring, “Oh! C'est magnifique!”
“Merci.” Draco responded.
“You ‘ave good taste.” She told Harry.
“I know.” Harry was looking at Draco, because he was still a sentimental prat.
“Let me go vinish up, then I will be wiz you next.” She said, leaving them be. Harry took Draco’s hand and pulled him close.
“You going to tell me what you’re getting now?” Draco asked.
“No. I’ll wait until she shows you the designs.” Harry spoke softly since they were centimeters away from each other. Draco pouted, which only made Harry laugh before kissing him. The buzzing stopped and there was chattering in French as a woman came up to the front counter and paid for her new tattoo. She smiled brightly at the two of them before walking out.
“’As he told you what he wants?” Guinevere asked Draco.
“No. He is being very secretive, but he enjoys surprising me.” Draco answered, following her back into the studio. Harry had taken a step back, which was a classic sign he was nervous. Draco didn’t quite understand.
She chuckled as she motioned to her designs, “They are for ze left arm, as a partial sleeve.” She told Draco, “So ze are designed to be wrapped around ze arm.” Draco turned to the grey scale designs and paused. It was of a Hungarian Horntail, as a testament to his fourth year. But in case Draco had any question that it was about him, each sketch had chinks in their scales. At first glance, it might look like battle wounds as a part of the design, but the chinks were in the formation of his constellation. A dragon.
All the blood drained from Draco’s face, he stared at the tattoos and blinked a few times. He wrapped one arm around himself and held the other to his mouth. Tears came to his eyes as he stared at them.
“I’ll give you two a moment.” Guinevere said, stepping out of the room.
“Draco?” Harry called to him.
Draco made a choked sob sound, “Harry.”
“I didn’t choose this to make you cry.” Harry joked, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
“This—this is permanent.” Draco reminded him.
“There are spells to remove tattoos—they’re just painful. And I know that—I just want you to know that I love you.”
“I know that Harry.” Draco wiped a few tears off his cheeks. Harry kissed him, warming Draco’s entire body up. There was nothing quite like Harry pressed up against him, his strong auror arms wrapped around his waist. Draco’s toes curled as Harry’s tongue pushed into his mouth. His taste. Draco would never get enough. Because this was the two of them, and they were forever. Not in an idealistic way, but in a messy way. Because they would stay together and fight through their issues. They were both too stubborn to do anything different, “I don’t need it.” Draco told him, “I don’t need the tattoo to know that you love me.”
And he did know Harry loved him. Over the years, Meredith had been a staple in both of their lives. Draco firmly believed every couple should go to therapy. Arguments diminished before they even escalated, but they also both worked on communicating their emotions better. Draco tended to be bottled up because his family demanded it, and Harry was bottled up because his family never showed him any sympathy. The more they talked, the easier it went. So Draco knew without question that Harry loved him.
“I know.” Harry replied, sounding very assured, “But Hermione and Ron have their own tattoos—I want you to have yours.”
Draco gave a watery smiled, “Ok.”
Harry pulled him closer to the designs, “Which one?”
“You’re going to help me pick.” Draco told him. Harry kissed him again, and Draco practically melted into the kiss. He couldn’t quite believe this was his life, that this was happening.
They debated over them for a few minutes. Guinevere offered to pull pieces from each design in order to make them happy. The end result was perfection. She explained that if Harry had done this the muggle way, it would take several sessions. But because of magic, she was able to get it done in one.
Harry sat on the stool with his left arm toward Guinevere. Draco took his right hand between his two hands and held it.
After she put on the stencil and pulled out the equipment, Draco tugged his hand, “Last chance to back out.”
Harry snorted, “Never.”
The buzzing started and Draco had to look away. He blinked a lot to keep the tears from falling. He wasn’t sure why he was acting like such a bloody Hufflepuff about all this. Harry squeezed his hand back, so Draco took his hand to his lips and kissed his palm lightly. He quirked a grin at Potter, who easily smiled back. And even after all this time, the butterflies in his stomach fluttered at the look.
“And ze paperz are saying you two are fighting.” Guinevere teased.
Draco chortled, “They don’t know their arse from their elbow.”
“This isn’t even the most ridiculous article I’ve read about us.” Harry shook his head. Harry had a weird fascination about reading all the articles about them. Draco would just read the more ridiculous ones for the laughs.
“Which one?” Draco asked.
“The one where you have secret Veela heritage and I am caught in your influence.” Harry said.
Draco shook his head, “I liked the four page article in Witch Weekly dissecting who bottoms.”
Guinevere cackled at that one, “What did zey conclude?”
“They said I’m the top.” Draco smirked.
Harry rolled his eyes, “I think I’d win if we actually tallied it up—but it’d be a close call.”
“But I’m in charge most.” Draco countered.
“Power bottom.” Guinevere waggled her eyebrows, leaning over her work a bit more.
“Merlin, you’d make a fortune if you sold this.” Harry said.
“Good zing you will give me one for ze tattoo.” She smirked and Draco laughed, “Are ze threesome rumors true?”
“Everyone always thinks we’re way more interesting than what we are.” Harry told her with a roll of his eyes.
“No on the sex dungeon?” She batted her eyelashes and made Harry laugh.
“I begged him to change one of the rooms, but he said no.” Draco said with a dramatic sigh, and they both laughed.
“Pity—I love a good BDSM dungeon.” She winked.
“I’d say we’re more kinky than into BDSM.” Draco qualified.
“She doesn’t need to know that.” Harry’s cheeks were a bit red.
“Harry gets uncomfortable talking about sex.” Draco informed her.
“Very British of you.” She told Harry.
They chatted on as Harry sat getting the tattoo. Every once and awhile Guinevere would ask if Harry was alright, but he would always nod and so she would continue. Draco didn’t let go of Harry’s hand the entire time. He would sometimes stand up a bit and take a peak at his other arm, then sit back down.
It took a few hours, but finally the buzzing stopped. Draco stood up to see Guinevere take her wand out, then frowned.
“You should do it.” She told Draco, “Ze spell to activate the tattoo.”
“Why?”
“It will take on more of your characteristics.” She moved a bit so Draco could stand next to her.
“Shouldn’t a professional be doing this? I don’t want to fuck it up.”
“You won’t fuck it up.” Harry said.
“It iz very simple.” She assured him, “Just takes a feeling—and then say animare.” Draco bit his lip, his heart was pounding.
“Is there something I can practice on?” Draco asked.
“We can do a small tattoo on him—if that iz alright ‘Arry—if not I can do it on myself.”
“No—you can do foot prints.” Harry said, “On my back.” Draco knew he was talking about the Map. Draco did a quick sketch for Guinevere to show her what they looked like on the Map; Guinevere free handed them on Harry’s back.
“Animare.” Draco whispered, twisting his wand as Guinevere showed him. The footprints shook a bit, like they were getting something off of them, and then started walking around.
“Parfait!” Guinevere clapped her hands, “Now ze Dragon.”
Draco was still nervous when he turned to the dragon, “You can do it Draco.” Harry said softly.
“If I fuck it up, it’s your fault.” Draco informed him, kissing his lips chastely.
“Go on.” Harry encouraged.
Draco thought about how much he loved Harry, how much this tattoo meant to him. Draco may have abandonment issues, but he knew Harry would never let Draco walk away like Draco's parents had done. Because Harry loved him, just as much as he loved Harry. “Animare.” Draco whispered it.
The Dragon immediately stretched out its wings, fluttering them as he adjusted his grip. He turned to look around, his grey eyes staring into Draco’s own. It was strange, but it was like they recognized each other. The dragon huffed smoke and it curled up Harry’s arm and disappeared. The Dragon further turned his gaze to Guinevere. He narrowed his gaze before giving a silent roar. His wings furled out in a protective stance.
Guinevere chuckled, “I won’t steal your man. I promise.” She told Draco. Draco smiled back at her innocently, “You better put ze bandage on, I do not zink he vill let me.” She pointed at the dragon before grabbing the special tattoo bandage.
Draco took the bandage and very carefully placed it on Harry’s arm. He murmured the spell to activate it, and it conformed perfectly to his arm and the tattoo. Through the clear wrap, he could still see the dragon staring at him. Draco felt tears well up before he could control it. This man whom he had to constantly remind to pick up his clothes because Draco wasn’t a bloody house-elf. The one that stole his nice boxers. The man who made sure at every public event, no one smeared him for his past. Who took him to his father’s grave when he was finally ready and held his hand the entire time he cried. The man who Draco yelled at when he just walked right into his office like Draco didn’t have a million other things to do. Who worked entirely too hard and sacrificed himself too much. This man was all his. All Draco’s.
“You know I’m permanent, right?” Draco asked Harry.
Harry looked emotional as well, his green eyes a bit too bright, “I know.”
“C'est trop mignon. Mon coeur est plein.” Guinevere looked a bit like she was going to cry herself, “You must come back when it iz ‘ealed. I want a picture!” She pointed at her wall that was covered in photographs of her work.
“Thank you Guinevere. It is wonderful.” Harry said genuinely.
“It iz always a pleasure.” She assured him, “Come back soon, no?” She winked.
“It depends on what Hermione says.” Draco gave a look to Harry.
“It does not!” Harry huffed, “And she is usually right about things.”
“From lovers to quarrelers in moments.” Guinevere sighed, Draco and Harry both laughed.
“Have a good rest of your evening Guinevere.” Draco told her as Harry settled the bill.
“You too.” She waved them out the door. Harry pulled on his coat and Draco sighed regretfully as he did. They both were silent as they walked out the stairs and onto the street.
“What do you want for dinner?” Harry asked, weaving his fingers between Draco’s.
“I want to go get wine, cheese and some prosciutto—and then I want you to fuck me all night.” Draco told Harry.
They walked into the hotel room later that evening with a brown bag full of food. Rain had started pouring down during the last fifty meters of their walk, but it sounded lovely now that they were inside. Draco flipped on a light switch of their hotel room, pushing back his wet hair. There were large floor to ceiling windows looking over the city. The curtains were drawn back to see the grey city as it got rained on.
“Is the food safe?” He asked Harry.
“Yes. The brown bag protected it.” Harry told him, placing it on a small table, “Is the wine safe?” Draco was holding a bag with two bottles of wine in it. He placed it down next to the grocery bag.
“Safe.” He assured Harry.
He pulled on one of Harry’s belt loops a bit, so he stepped closer.
“Want to eat?”
“No.” Draco replied. The kiss was soft, but full of promise. Draco slipped his thumb beneath Harry’s shirt, rubbing the bit of skin on his hip.
“Wait.” Harry said, with a slight grin.
“Merlin, you’re going to do something romantic aren’t you.”
“It’s our anniversary!” He argued, going to the small black bag.
“Harry you got a tattoo of a dragon on your arm, I don’t think I can handle any more romantic things.” Draco said flatly. Harry laughed, pulling out his wand and waving about twenty candles around the room. They floated into random areas and all lit with a flick of his wrist. He then waved his wand again and the overhead lights went out.
Draco had to admit it looked gorgeous. The soft candle light with the remaining grey evening light outside gave Harry a glow.
“Now can you fuck me?” Draco whispered into his jaw, kissing his neck.
“Yes.” Harry easily agreed. He nudged his lips closer to Draco’s and kissed him like he meant it. Draco felt like fire scorched through him as Harry pulled him close. Harry’s strong arms easily picked him up, and Draco wrapped his legs around his waist. He loved when Harry man handled him. It might make him a bit superficial, but Draco loved when Harry showed off how strong he was by picking him up. It made him feel safe and protected—wanted. Harry’s arms wrapped around his back as he kissed him, like he was in a cocoon. Despite the cold rain, Draco felt heat radiating from Harry.
Harry carried them over to the bed, setting Draco down slowly and crawling over top of him. Draco heard Harry’s shoes hit the floor, so he flipped off his own before sliding up the bed.
He could spend hours just kissing Harry—tasting him. He tasted like all Draco ever wanted. He wove his fingers through Harry’s thick hair. Closer. Draco had to push him away a bit for him to take off his jacket, but he didn’t want to. He pushed up into Harry, who was straddling Draco’s hips. Harry tossed his coat aside and then pulled off his t-shirt.
“You’re making a mess.” Draco complained, because he always did.
“It’s not our bedroom.” Harry smirked, unbuttoning Draco’s shirt. He leaned in and kissed the edge of his jaw, his short beard tickling him as he made his way down to Draco’s neck. He nipped at his jugular, and Draco arched his neck a bit to keep him there. His neck was sensitive, and the scratchiness of Harry’s beard always drove him a bit wild.
Harry would go through phases of his beard. He would have it for a few months and one morning Draco would come down for breakfast to find it gone. But since he could grow it out so quickly, it had never mattered much when he decided to shave it. Draco couldn’t help the gasp as Harry nibbled at his collarbone, placing kisses after the quick swipe of his teeth.
Draco loved getting hard like this. It was the lazy sort of arousal you didn’t notice until it was consuming you. Harry moved slow, down his chest, a flat tongue rolled over his nipple, causing sparks to go down his spine. His hands moved down Draco’s chest, his calloused fingers leaving fire in their wake. They always gripped him perfectly, with just enough strength to feel it but not too much to hurt. Harry flipped open Draco’s belt with his right hand, his left rubbing along the outside. He wasn’t completely hard yet, but the strokes through his clothes held promise.
“Butt up.” Harry told him after he unbuttoned his trousers. Draco lifted up and Harry pulled off his slacks. He did get up and place them carefully on a chair, “Shirt?” Draco sat up and pulled off his shirt.
This was Harry too. The one that always put Draco’s clothes carefully aside, though he teased him relentlessly for it. Draco swung his legs toward the end of the bed, watching Harry walk back toward him. There was something about him in jeans and bare feet that turned Draco on. Draco pulled on the elastic band of his boxers.
“These are mine.” Draco told Harry, kissing up the front of his chest.
“Yours are just so much more comfortable.” Harry moaned as Draco gripped his arse with both hands. He nudged Draco back to crawl on top of him.
“No—off.” Draco pulled his belt loop before unbuttoning his jeans. He just smelled so much like Harry. There was the smell of wood chips and varnish; Harry always seemed to have another project going on that required him to woodwork. He had re-done several areas of their house over the years just for fun. He had also worked on parts of several friends’ houses. Harry certainly had a talent. During one particular down time between projects, Harry was rambunctious and kept bothering him in his office. Draco suggested he flip houses. He had gone on to flip four wizarding houses since Draco’s suggestion. It was the perfect way to de-stress, according to Harry.
He smelled a bit of sweat too, but Draco liked that the best. Draco unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. He ran his fingers up Harry’s thighs, gripping his arse again.
“Sit back and flip over—I want your arse.” Harry told him. Draco smiled up at him before obliging. He wiggled out of his pants and Harry pulled them the rest of the way off.
Draco rolled over onto his stomach, arching his back as he sat up on his knees with his head in his hands. After so many years together, he didn’t feel self-conscious. He heard the smack before he felt it.
“Ow!” He cried out, flushed as he turned around to look at Harry. Harry had a smirk on his face, “You’re not supposed to spank me on our anniversary.”
“I think that’s exactly when I’m supposed to spank you.” Harry said with a waggle of his brows.
“Fuck off.” Draco pouted, “I thought you were supposed to romance me.”
“I thought you couldn’t take any more romance.” Harry smacked his arse again, rubbing the smart with his hand afterword.
“Now he listens.” Draco said with a frown. Harry laughed loudly, leaning over Draco to kiss his shoulder, then between his shoulder blades. He took his sweet time kissing down his back, his fingers dragging along Draco’s thighs, “Harry.” His name came out breathless.
Harry didn’t hesitate after that. His tongue swiped over his hole and Draco fell apart. He always did when Harry gave him a rim job. Draco was pretty sure Harry knew it because he used it when he wanted Draco to shut up. Usually when Draco was mad at him when he told Harry not to do something and then he went ahead and did it anyway.
Draco still firmly believed that Harry should be awarded another Order of Merlin for Arse-licking. The roughness of his beard made Draco’s toes curl. Potter’s fingers held his arse open, grasping and moving around slightly to make him tingle. Harry must have grabbed lube at some point, because one slicked finger went inside him. Draco couldn’t quite help the loud moan.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” Harry moaned, kissing the knob above his arse. It was something Draco made Harry do occasionally— wait to be inside him. He’d make Harry fuck him with a dildo slowly, staring at his arse until he was begging to be inside. Then Draco would oblige, “No teasing tonight.” Harry told Draco firmly, like he was thinking about the same thing Draco was.
“Fine, then use two fingers and your tongue again.” Draco told him. Harry snorted, but listened. Draco bit his lip to keep from crying out as Harry licked him. The two fingers curled up against his prostate, the steady and smooth pace made Draco’s breathing accelerate as he clutched the sheets. His cock throbbed between his legs, but he didn’t rub it against the sheets. He wanted the torture, the arousal to build and build until it almost burst.
He clenched down on Potter’s fingers as he added a third. A stream of precum was leaking from his cock onto the bed.
“Ready?” Harry asked a bit breathlessly.
“Yes.” Draco groaned as Harry’s fingers went along his prostate. Harry rubbed him once more before gently pulling his fingers out. The bed dipped a bit as Harry adjusted, moving closer. His cock easily slipped in the first bit, then Harry pushed his way inside. Draco keened, arching his back into the steady thrust. He loved feeling full—loved having Harry inside him. Harry pulled back and thrust again. The steady slap of skin filled the room as well as the smell of sex. Draco clutched the sheets, staring out at the city below.
“Fuck Draco.” Harry moaned on a particularly rough thrust. His hands went down Draco’s torso, his body tingling. His cock was pulsing between his legs, so he reached one hand back. He made small movements, running his thumb over his slit. But he wanted it to last, so he didn’t try to bring himself off, “Christ you’re beautiful.”
Pleasure tingled through his body, but he wanted to get closer. He wanted more, “I want to see you.” Draco said. Harry leaned down over top of him and kissed across his shoulders as he slipped out of him, moving back as he did so. Draco turned around, got up on his knees and kissed Harry like he was a lifeline. His taste. It would never be enough. He gripped his arms until his fingers reached the bandage on his arm, so Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist instead. His fully naked skin pressed up against Harry was nearly too much. Draco pulled Harry’s hair, tilting his face up a bit more and pushing him back. Harry got the idea, sitting back on his knees.
Draco took Harry’s cock in his hand and stroked it a few times. His cock was nearly purple, jutting up toward his stomach. Precum bubbled up, and Draco used it to further lube Harry’s cock. He was stunning. Draco loved how his chest muscles rippled as he arched backward and thrust into Draco’s hand.
“Draco.” Harry groaned. He couldn’t resist such a wanton plea. Draco scooted up Harry’s legs, taking Harry’s cock and guiding it back inside him. His chest pressed against Harry’s, and his cock was trapped between them. Draco cried out as he lowered himself. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s back, holding him as close as possible.
He loved the intimacy of this position. His legs straddling Harry’s, their chests pressed together. It was like every inch of skin possible was touching. Draco wound his fingers through Harry’s hair, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. Harry rocked into him, and the slight movement lit Draco up. Harry's cock brushed his prostate just as his cock rubbed against Harry’s stomach.
“Fuck.” Draco’s voice was high pitched, muttered into Harry’s lips.
“Feels good?”
“Fuck yes.” Draco nearly sobbed, clenching his hand tightly as Harry thrust again. His entire body was wound tightly so that every bit of pleasure felt a thousand fold. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay this close to Harry forever. Sweat dripped down his side burn and onto Harry’s shoulder. Draco looked down at their bodies pressed tightly together. There was not an inch of space between them. He rocked a bit more so his cock would rub harder against Harry’s stomach. Draco tried to pull Harry closer, arching his back to try to get him deeper.
“I’m gunna come.” Draco gasped as he said it. It was all about timing now. Harry’s thrust up as Draco sank down and then rolled his hips into Harry. It was small movements, but it was driving Draco insane. He was letting out a string of curse words with every movement, his cock getting even harder. He clawed at Harry, begging him to continue, “Please please don’t stop. So fucking close.” Another small thrust and a move of his hips, Draco bit down on his lip and sobbed. He was on a knife’s edge, his chest caught.
“God, please come Draco.” Harry begged, “I want to see it. Draco come.” Harry encouraged. Harry thrust up hard, and Draco’s cock rubbed against Harry’s stomach in the most delicious way.
“Fuck!” Draco screamed as he began to come. Pleasure seared through him as Harry continued to thrust into him. He fell back on the bed with Harry over him, who continued to thrust through his orgasm. His cock spurt all over his stomach, he could barely hear himself yelling over the pleasure. Harry’s thrusts became erratic just before he stopped moving, biting Draco’s shoulder a bit.
His kiss took Draco’s breath away. It was difficult to be aware of his surroundings as Harry kissed him, holding him tightly against his chest. His softening cock didn’t move from inside of him. Harry kissed his cheeks, his ears, and his nose—everywhere he could touch until he took his mouth again.
“Happy anniversary.” Harry whispered into his jaw, kissing it again, “I love you.”
“I fucking love you too.” Draco managed to say between deep breaths. Harry laughed breathlessly, but held him tight.
Draco awoke the next morning stiff all over. Harry had put him through the ringer, or maybe he had put himself through the ringer. They had eaten some bread, cheese, had a glass of wine and then ended up fucking on the floor. The rain had cleared to reveal a beautiful night sky, complete with twinkling stars over the city when Draco slid into Harry one last time before falling asleep.
He rolled over and saw Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the beautiful city below. The sun was shining bright with blue skies. Harry had a cup of tea in his hand, blowing into it carefully to cool it off. Draco saw a few scratch marks on his back from the night before and couldn’t help his possessive grin. Harry had removed the bandage, the dragon curled around his bicep. Draco sat up, crawling over to Harry. He slid one leg on either side, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder.
“Morning.” Draco whispered into Harry’s neck.
“Hm. Morning.” Harry used one hand to squeeze the arms wrapped around his stomach.
“He looks beautiful.” Draco said softly, touching the tattooed dragon. Harry turned a bit to look at him, his green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. It was an awkward kiss considering the angle, but it made Draco feel warm as he squeezed Harry tighter.
“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Harry said.
“You’re a sap Potter.” Draco whispered, but kissed him anyway.
“But you love me anyway?”
“Always.” Draco swore, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips. Harry grinned at him in the careless brilliant way that made Draco’s insides flutter, even after all this time. He wove his fingers of his left hand with Harry’s. The two of them, together.
“Always.” Harry whispered back.