Chapter Text
The party that Harry had been so intent on throwing had been a spectacularly bad idea.
And Harry recognized that he’d had more than his fair share of bad ideas, of plans that had gone awry, but at the moment he was pressed to think of any that had seemed like they were this bad.
In fairness though, how could he have anticipated this?
Draco had tried to warn him, Harry supposed, but he just hadn’t imagined that he would be forced to bear witness to Draco half-naked, straddling Blaise Zabini while he made out with him.
“It’s just a game,” Hermione whispered in his ear.
He nodded, he did know that, he’d also lost his shirt and shoes during the game and he’d lost count of how many people had been dared to kiss someone else. Draco had kissed Pansy earlier and Harry had only felt a tiny stutter in his chest about that. But there was something about the way Draco kissed Blaise that made Harry want to punch Blaise in the face. Something about the way Draco’s fingers wove through the hair at the base of Blaise’s skull and the way Blaise’s hands moved over his shoulder blades. Something that spoke of familiarity and enjoyment.
When Draco pulled back he looked a bit rumpled as he smiled down at Blaise, cheeks rosy.
Blaise gave Draco’s arse a pat, “Always a pleasure,” he said with a wink. “Seems you’ve learned a trick or two since the last time.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Draco all but purred.
Before his magic could decide to blow anything up, Harry slammed the rest of his drink back and smiled as he stood up, “Can I get anybody else more to drink?” he asked.
After collecting glasses from a couple of people he made his way into the kitchen and started pouring, working very hard not to think about what could be happening in the other room.
The door opened and Harry didn’t turn around, expecting it to be Ron or Hermione. Instead, a set of arms wrapped around his waist and a mouth pressed against his ear, and Draco murmured, “I warned you. I told you Slytherins weren’t the type of people you wanted to party with.”
Harry could feel the outline of Draco’s cock pressing against his arse, he was at least half hard if Harry’s guess was correct, and Harry felt furious. In one swift move, Harry spun around and pinned Draco to the counter.
“Oh,” Draco hummed, his hips arching into Harry as his hands caught the counter top for support. His head tilted back and his eyes closed and Harry didn’t resist the impulse to lean forward and start sucking at the faultless column of Draco’s neck. “Fuck, Potter, you being jealous makes me so hot.”
“I’m not jealous,” he snapped as his hands roved over Draco’s back and shoulder blades, fingers biting into his flesh in all of the places that Blaise had touched.
“No?” Draco gasped, as Harry’s hands moved to the front of his trousers, without asking permission, he yanked open his belt and shoved his trousers and pants to the floor.
“No,” he spit as he turned Draco around and bent him over the counter.
Without waiting to be asked, Draco spread his legs, “well, whatever this is,” he said, groaning as Harry massaged the globes of his arse, “It’s hot. I think I’ll have to remember to thank Blaise.”
“Shut up,” Harry growled.
“Make me,” Draco purred, looking over his shoulder at Harry, silver eyes flashing in challenge. “But you better make it quick, in case someone comes looking for a drink.”
Harry wasn’t fond of prep spells but needs must, so he prepped Draco with a flick of the wrist, letting his magic do the work of opening the other man up.
Draco let out a long, plaintive moan, “Merlin, Potter, even your magic is possessive.”
“I’m not possessive,” Harry grunted as he pressed three fingers straight inside of Draco and started fucking him with them.
Draco groaned and rocked back on Harry’s fingers, “Come on,” he grunted, “inside.”
“Pushy,” Harry chastised but he unzipped his trousers and pulled his boxers down enough to get his cock out.
Draco kicked his trousers and pants off entirely before bending further over the counter, arse pressing higher.
“Fuck,” Harry groaned as he traced his thumbs along Draco’s crack, spreading his buttocks wider and just staring at his loose, glistening pucker.
“What are you waiting for?” Draco whined, “an engraved invitation?” Before Harry could respond, Draco started to turn around, shoving Harry back toward one of the stools, “I’ll just do it myself.”
Harry stepped to the side as he caught his wrists and used the momentum Draco had started to push him against the wall. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled. He pulled Draco’s arms up over his head and trapped his wrists against the wall with one hand before kicking out Draco’s feet. He leaned against Draco's back and nipped at his ear.
Draco moaned, “Yeah.” He pressed his hips back and Harry nudged his entrance with his cock. “Fuck,” he yelped, pushing back trying to speed up the process.
Harry leaned forward and bit the juncture between his shoulder and neck, grasping Draco’s hip with the hand not holding Draco’s above his head to hold him still. There was some part of him that needed to know that Draco was completely desperate, absolutely gagging for his cock. He needed some sign, something to tell him that he wasn’t alone in his obsession with Draco.
“Potter, please,” Draco gasped.
And the begging was so sweet in Harry’s ears that he almost gave in. Instead he cast a wordless Muffliato at the door and warded it against anyone who might be thinking of wandering in. Then he conjured a silk scarf that wrapped around Draco’s wrists and kept his arms in the air. Harry pulled out and stood back looking at the picture that Draco made standing entirely naked and wanting in Harry’s kitchen.
“Potter,” he panted, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Harry, eyes wild and desperate.
“Yes?” he asked innocently.
“Fuck me,” he demanded.
Harry moved closer and rubbed his hand over the right globe of Draco’s arse. “Ask me nicely.”
“Nicely?” Draco asked incredulously. “We both know that you are dying to get your cock inside of me, why should I-”
Harry’s hand cracked down on Draco’s buttock without his brain’s consent. And for a moment they both froze, seemingly in shock, with Draco’s mouth open and body rigid, Harry’s eyes searched his face for any trace of what he should do or say.
Then just as Harry was trying to figure out the best way to apologize and move on, Draco shuddered and his head turned back to the wall, dropping between his shoulders as he let out a low moan.
Tentatively, Harry’s hand rubbed over the pink mark on Draco’s bottom.
“Salazar,” he whimpered and Harry groped his buttocks with both hands, cupping and massaging the generous, muscled globes. “Harry,” he whispered open and needy, “Harry, please.”
He soothed his hand over Draco’s rear, gave it a little pat, he leaned in and put his mouth over Draco’s ear, “Please what?”
Draco shuddered, whimpered, pressed his arse back against Harry’s hand but didn’t say anything.
He raised his hand and slapped his arse again, “Please what?” He switched hands and swatted his arse on the other side; once, twice, and a third time for good measure.
Draco writhed, “Harry,” he moaned, begging, and Harry felt high with the heady pleasure of his name sounding like that in Draco’s mouth.
“What do you need?” he asked, cupping his buttock and squeezing, massaging a little harder than was strictly necessary before smacking again and watching the way Draco’s bottom bounced under his palm, pale skin turning such a pretty shade of pink.
“You,” Draco exhaled, “Circe, Harry, please,” he moaned. “Please, I need you.”
Harry’s heart swelled to bursting inside of his chest as he lined up and pressed inside of Draco’s body, “That’s right,” he growled, pressing in until he was fully seated, pelvis pressed against Draco’s arse. Mine. his brain hissed as he started to thrust, mine.
“Fuck,” Draco gasped, hands twisting against the fabric binding them over his head, looking for purchase.
But it was only Harry’s hands on his hips keeping him steady as he fucked into him, fast and hard and desperate. “Is this what you wanted?” Harry asked. “Did you want me to see you with Blaise and mark up your pretty skin? Did you want me to let them watch while I spanked you? Did want them to see me fuck you?”
“Harry,” he gasped, choking on a moan as Harry thrust in again, harder this time, his hips slapping Draco’s arse. “Harry,” he repeated.
“Is that what you wanted?” Harry asked again as he pounded into Draco’s arse, grasping his hip harder and incidentally reangling Draco’s hips a bit.
Draco keened, “Circe, Harry,” he gasped. “Godric, right there.”
Harry slammed in hard and Draco’s body clenched around him as he shuddered.
“Touch me,” Draco cried, “Harry, please. Please! I’m so close, touch my cock, please!”
He shook his head, nose brushing over Draco’s neck before he bit down on his skin again, “Come like this,” he commanded.
“Harry,” he cried out as Harry slammed in again.
He groaned at the delicious feeling of Draco’s body clenching down around him, so tight. “Come just like this,” he panted, half delirious from the pleasure. Mine, mine, mine. “Come from my cock pounding your arse.”
“I-” Draco started before letting out a high, keening moan, “Harry, please,” he cried, begging, begging, and Harry felt like he could come from the sound of Draco’s voice alone. Draco shuddered, overly sensitive, and Harry recognized the tightrope he was walking.
“Come on,” Harry encouraged, “come for me.”
His hips snapped and Draco’s body clenched harder than it had before and Harry’s orgasm took him by surprise. Mine, mine, all mine. He came, muffling his shout in Draco’s shoulder, pounding into his hole.
When he came back to himself, Draco was still whimpering, still begging.
“Shh, shh,” he murmured, pulling out.
Draco cried out, “no! Harry, please!”
“Shh, shh, darling,” Harry soothed as he turned Draco around and fell to his knees at Draco’s feet, “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he assured, immediately taking Draco’s weeping cock into his mouth and moaning at how good he tasted.
He reached around Draco’s hip and pressed two fingers straight into Draco’s hole, stuffing his come further inside and aiming for Draco’s prostate.
The wailing noise that escaped Draco’s mouth hardly seemed human and Harry couldn’t stop the immense pride and satisfaction that swept his body at the sound. “Harry,” he cried. “Harry, I’m going to-” he broke off as Harry sucked harder and Draco’s come flooded his mouth.
Draco’s hips pumped and Harry did his best to move with him, sucking and trying to swallow his release. After a long moment, Draco collapsed back against the wall, body sagging in spite of the way his arms were still tied above his head.
Harry wasn’t ready to stop, though, wasn’t ready to return to their living room and watch Draco kiss other people. He kept his fingers inside of Draco, rocking in and out slowly, teasing over his prostate.
“Ah,” Draco whimpered, body shaking and shuddering as though he couldn’t decide whether to lean into the sensation or away from it. “Harry,” he breathed out, voice as shaky as his legs. “Stop,” he whimpered, “too much.”
He pulled his fingers out but stayed on his knees at Draco’s feet, panting.
Draco waved a hand and the silk binding his hands disappeared, he leaned against the wall and rubbed his wrists before reaching up and covering one of the bruises on his neck with his hand and healing it.
He stood up and reached for his hand, wanting to stop him, wanting desperately for Draco to leave the marks where everyone could see them. “Wait-”
“Potter,” Draco said and his voice sounded tired. “We talked about this. This isn’t a relationship, we are just fucking.”
“No, I know-”
“Do you?” Draco asked, eyes searching Harry’s face. “Look, I already told you that you getting jealous is fucking hot-”
“I wasn’t jealous-”
“And I am not opposed to a little rough because of it,” he added salaciously. “But it’s one thing for them to wonder if we’re fucking and it’s another thing entirely for them to see it played out on my body.”
Harry shook his head, Draco was right. He knew he was right. Still. “What about something they can’t see?”
Draco raised an eyebrow, “What did you have in mind?”
He quirked a grin at Draco and pretended to be more confident than he felt when he conjured a plug and showed it to Draco.
“Potter,” Draco said, mouth curving up at the corners, “You’re a much kinkier bastard than I gave you credit for.”
“Turn around and let me put it in?”
Draco turned around and braced his forearms on the wall, spreading his legs once more.
He pressed the plug in slowly, prolonging their inevitable departure from the kitchen. Once it was sealed in place, he gave Draco’s bottom a pat before pulling his own pants and trousers back up.
With a little wince, that Harry probably should have felt a bit guilty about but couldn’t find it in himself, Draco bent over and picked up his own trousers. “Bloody hell, Potter, you needn’t look so smug,” he said, rolling his eyes. But there was a distinct smirk at the corner of his mouth that Harry pretended he couldn’t see.
After a bit of checking to make sure that they had themselves in order, they decided to bring the dessert trays out and say they’d been setting them up in the kitchen if anyone asked about their absence.
Draco went out first with a tray of desserts and a couple of drinks floating behind him and Harry squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Everything was fine. Everything was under control and well in hand. Sure, he might have a few feelings but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t just keep going as they had been. They were just fucking, this was just a casual... thing.
Nothing to worry about.