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Draco had just settled into the court lounge when the door burst open. The lack of decorum was proof enough that it was Harry. He didn’t even have to look to know that, but he did just to prove himself right.
It was Harry, and he was drinking out of an already empty blood bag, sucking out the last few drops.
“Dohpre, vuy pevi.”
Draco blinked rapidly, trying to figure out if Harry had mumbled through the bag or if he was speaking in tongues.
“Pardon?”
“I said, ‘Hello, my love.’”
Draco was rather grateful that he couldn’t flush anymore, but it didn’t matter, because Harry’s eyes twinkled like he knew anyway—the bastard.
“Did you?” Draco asked doubtfully, picking at his nails, sparing Harry a glance. “What language was it?”
“Gobledegook.”
“I wasn’t aware that you knew Gobledegook.” Draco frowned, wondering why they had used the court translator during their last meeting if Harry knew Gobledegook. Surely that would have melted the Goblins’ ire a margin. Maybe it would have tipped the scales in their favor when it came to redesigning the zones for more land. Instead, the Goblins chose to align their votes with the Werewolves.
“I don’t,” Harry grinned, waving his blood bag before inspecting the label. “It would appear that a Witch named Kathryn knew Gobledegook.”
Draco was a little jealous. The last few blood bags he had taken were nothing special. The only interesting thing he had gleamed from the blood had been a rather nasty bout of pain from a woman experiencing menopause.
“You always get the fun stuff.”
“Not true,” Harry said slowly, eyes innocent in a way that Draco knew he had never been.
“You don’t even believe that.”
“No, really. There was that one time you experienced what it would be like to have a Muggle doctor heal you.”
“Fuck you, Potter,” Draco snarled. “That kidney stone hurt like a fucking bitch, and I would like to never experience that again.”
Usually, drinking blood came with life experiences, skills or talents from whoever the blood belonged to. It never lasted long, at max an hour depending on how fresh the blood was. He preferred the times when there was only vague flashes of experiences or memories over the painful ones.
“Muggles do it all the time.”
“Good for them. I admire their strength—strength that I clearly lack.”
Merlin what he would have given to have drank blood from someone who knew Gobledegook that day instead.
“What did you experience today?” Harry asked, plopping right on Draco’s lap. “You did eat today, right?”
Draco rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the insane appetite that Harry had. He could survive off one meal a day, but the worry wort that Harry was wouldn’t let it go. Constantly nagged him.
“Yes, I ate.”
Sort of. Draco had most of his blood bag, but the heat flashes from the donor had been too much for him. Another experience he would also like to never go through again.
“Do I get a reward?” Draco asked before any follow up questions were thrown his way. He used his strength and speed to spin them around until Harry was the one on the couch and Draco was between his legs and firm arms were wrapped around Draco’s stomach.
“Do you deserve one? Were you kind to others?” Harry asked doubtfully. “You didn’t insult the other council members? You left the hags alone and didn’t insult any Veelas? Did you play nice today?”
“Never,” Draco smirked over his shoulder. It wasn’t his fault that everyone around him was absolutely moronic, and he felt that they needed to know that. Really, he had done the Centaurs a favor by reminding them how truly insufferable they were. If they continued to only speak in vague gestures relating to star positions, then he was only ever going to reply with insults—a fair trade off.
“But you spoil me rotten, what will once more hurt?”
“Giving in doesn’t teach you anything.” Harry chided, flicking Draco on the side of his head. “Lessons are supposed to stick.”
“Then punish me.”
He knew without looking that Harry’s eyes darkened, and Draco had to fight a shiver.
“Punishments are rewards for you.”
“I can’t help that you make me feel good,” Draco said, pushing his arse into Harry’s groin. “It’s not my fault.”
“It’s not?” Harry asked, a lone finger trailing up Draco’s arm. “If it’s not your fault then whose is it?”
“Obviously yours,” Draco said, breath hitching when Harry’s other hand began to pull open the buttons on his shirt. “You let me get away with everything.”
A harsh snort. “Don’t I know it.” It was mumbled into his skin as Harry rubbed his nose along Draco’s throat.
“Fuck, you smell good.”
Draco arched his back when a tongue came out to play, and he was unable to stop a hand from tangling in Harry’s hair, holding him there.
“What do I smell like?”
“Sin, danger and desire,” Harry whispered in between light kisses, barely a press of his lips against Draco’s skin.
“You have a penchant for danger.”
“Every fucking time,” Harry agreed, letting out a small moan when Draco’s fingers tightened in his hair.
“What kind of sin am I?”
“The worst kind. Addictive.” A light scrape of a fang had Draco whimpering as hands began to roam over his body. “I’m addicted to you, Draco. Submerged into your every whim. I yearn for you, and it’s entirely your fault.”
Fuck.
“Then punish me.”
A harsh sting of fangs puncturing his neck had him groaning, cock twitching as he arched his back.
Harry was right, Draco did love his punishments. But what he didn’t realize was that Draco was just as addicted to Harry. Just as enchanted, just as besotted and certainly just as horny.
Vampires weren’t supposed to drink the blood of other vampires because it didn’t provide the sustenance that they needed to survive. Who gave a shit about sustenance or nutrients though? It was about pleasure.
Drinking from each other was not only pleasurable but it left a high that lasted hours. It didn’t give the same experiences as human blood did, but it was still worth it. Instead of flashes and memories it was all about power.
Energy crackled throughout the room as Harry drank from Draco. The static shocks against Draco’s skin had him relishing in the light sting of pain as the anticipation mounted. Harry high on Draco’s power always sparked a danger that others would flee from.
Power given to the already powerful was nothing but tempting a predator into attacking.
Oh, did Draco love to watch Harry attack.
“You taste divine.”
It was panted against his skin as Harry’s awareness hyper focused on one thing and one thing only: Draco.
“What do I taste like?”
There was a silence as fangs scraped along Draco’s jaw and he did his best not to whimper, but a small sound escaped, and he could feel a smirk pressed against his skin.
“Temptation and greed rolled into one. Gluttony befalls many, but I have long since given into my desire for you. I ache for your touch, for your kiss, for your presence, for you. You are my weakness and yet I gather all my strength from your company. You are the dichotomy that defines me. You are mine.”
“Such a way with words,” Draco whispered, breathless and eyes heady as he tried not to be so easily seduced, but as always his cock was achingly hard and so desperate for Harry’s attention.
“I learned from you.”
The tone implied it was a secret, and Draco wanted to uncover them all. Wanted to immerse himself further into Harry until they were one.
“I get your power, but also your mind,” Harry murmured as he lifted his fingers to Draco’s mouth, groaning when all of them were quickly bitten as blood pooled to the tips. “When you give me your blood you give me the best parts of you.”
The now bloody hand stained Draco’s white shirt as Harry popped more of the buttons and smeared red fingers across his chest.
“And yet you haven’t given me the best part of you,” Draco teased, hoping it would give him what he wanted.
A harsh pinch to his nipple was not what he had intended, but it would work. Oh would it work. Draco breathed shakily through his nose as the fingers relentlessly teased him.
“The best part of me is not my dick.”
“I beg to differ.”
Another pinch had him moaning and he despised the breathy chuckle he could feel against his neck. As he opened his mouth to complain, all that came out was a choked breath when another bite pierced his neck.
A little hazy, Draco could only turn his head, giving Harry more room.
Two bites turned into three, four and five. Eyes hazy and mind heady, he let out a questioning sound, comfortable with not speaking.
“You wanted a punishment, no?”
Draco could taste the excitement on his tongue as he swallowed the words that wanted to come out.
“Answer me,” Harry growled, nails digging into his chest before Draco’s shirt was forced completely open, all remaining buttons ripping out as the sound of torn fabric filled the air.
“Yes,” Draco whispered before he grabbed hold of Harry’s hand and bit his fingers again, letting a few drops of blood reach his tongue.
Eyes closed and mind assaulted with power, Draco could only dig his fingers into his thighs to stop himself from sinking into the pleasure that he craved. Just a few drops of Harry’s blood were enough to have his fangs elongated and tongue salivating.
“Ahcy eaara.” (I want you)
Parseltongue rolled off his tongue easily, just as it only ever did when he had some of Harry’s blood in his body. He tilted his head enough to see Harry’s eyes widen before his face shuttered in desire.
Harry’s power was rapidly filling Draco’s body, causing him to feel pleasantly heavy as he let Harry do whatever he wanted to him. A whisper of a spell before air brushed across his now bare legs, leaving him only in a torn and bloody shirt.
“Ahcy shyf eaara.” (I will have you)
Draco shivered at the hoarse desire in the tone that promised pleasure. Parseltongue had always been sexy rolling off Harry’s tongue, but to be able to speak it and understand it, even if it was only temporary until the blood left his system was another experience all together.
When a palm was pressed to his mouth Draco sank his teeth into it, moaning as flavor exploded across his tongue only to gasp when the hand was taken away. The taste of blood was still in his mouth and that was all his mind could focus on until it went blank, pleasure taking over everything else as the bloody hand wrapped around his cock, the red a stark contrast against his skin.
“Harry.”
“What is it you want, shcry suys? I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything.” (My love)
Head spinning and mouth open, Draco could only pant as the grip on his cock tightened, causing him to whimper, precome pearling at the tip.
“Look at you.” It was a whispered caress that preceded lips pressing hot kisses to his neck, leaving behind an equally scorching warmth. “Always so eager for me.”
If the blood hadn’t made him feel so good he’d have hexed Harry into next week, and if he remembered to later, he’d be sure to follow through with it.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Draco shook his head the best he could, gasping when a sixth bite had him seeing white, pleasure mounting.
“Where are you words, sylosa? You’re usually full of them.” (Darling)
With a quickness that he knew surprised Harry, Draco bit the free hand that was on his shoulder, blood now dripping down his jaw.
“Such anger,” Harry murmured, bloody fingers moving to caress Draco’s face, leaving a red trail behind. “I love it.”
“I would love it if you fucked me.”
“Now you find your words.”
“Harry,” Draco growled, fangs itching to bite again.
A whisper of another spell before Harry’s now naked body was pressed against his. He might have parted his mouth to say something scathing but the hard cock against his arse was too much of a distraction.
Finally.
He would have said as much too but a seventh bite to his neck had him crying out at the same time Harry began to stroke him again. Magic tingled in the air as wet fingers slid along his back, dipping into his crease to part his cheeks and then they were prodding at his rim.
Fuck.
Draco held on tightly to the back of the couch as a finger entered him. He bit his lip, fangs nicking the skin causing blood to drip. A snarl had him jumping—the finger inside him going deeper—a strong grip to his chin jerked his head until a swipe of a tongue cleaned the blood on his face.
“Ahcy sars uf eaara.” (I can’t get enough of you)
A second finger entered him, and he couldn’t help but push back, a small moan escaping as the pace increased.
“Su eaara rsars?” (Do you want more?)
“Yes,” Draco cried out when fingers brushed across his prostate. “I want more. I want you.”
The palm he bit previously was placed against his lips once more, dried blood asking to be drenched again. Draco bit the same wound, relishing in the way that Harry shivered against him, cock leaving a wetness on his arse.
When the bloody hand moved behind him, Draco could only blink at the realization of what Harry was going to use as lube.
Fuck.
The hands were swapped, and a different kind of wetness was inside of him. Harry’s blood left tingles in him and he barely had time to consider what the benefits of that would be before fingers were replaced with a thick, wet cock.
“Yes,” Draco hissed, eyes closing as his mouth parted on a long-drawn-out moan that matched pitch with Harry’s own moan. “This, siyar sur ahcy synsas.” (This is what I wanted)
The pace was rough, and so was the eighth bite to his neck. The only sounds in the room were Draco’s panted moans, Harry’s grunts and the slapping of their sweaty and bloody bodies as they joined together again and again.
His cock was hard, so hard and leaking, but also red. Dried blood coated his dick, and he wished it was still shiny and fresh. Draco reached up to pinch his own nipples, a smirk flashing when Harry’s hips stuttered.
“Fuck.”
The smirk widened before it fell away as a harsh thrust had his head spinning and his mouth parting on a loud cry of Harry’s name.
“Not enough, never enough,” Harry whispered, tongue running along the scattered bite marks and it had Draco whimpering as pain and pleasure twisted together leaving only the high of desire behind. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
For the rest of their very long lives, Draco knew that it was true as well. He would never get enough of Harry, never stop being enthralled by his presence, entranced by his love and in love with his cock.
“More,” Draco demanded, elongating one of his nails enough until it nicked the skin around his nipple, allowing him rub blood into his skin.
A strangled noise was the only warning he got before he was thrown to the side, body moving effortlessly until he was on his back, the soft cushions of the couch beneath him as Harry was between his legs.
Dark eyes were riveted to his bloody chest before that lovely thick cock was back inside him, causing Draco to arch his back.
Harry leaned forward, hands on either side of Draco’s head as he lowered enough to wrap his mouth around the bloody nipple, fangs making more of a mess, red pooling past Harry’s mouth to run down his chest.
“Move,” Draco demanded, making a point of slapping Harry’s arse to prove his impatience.
For once, Harry did as he was told without complaint. Draco’s eyes closed as Harry thrusted harshly, over and over, the pace and intensity increasing, the warm mouth never leaving his chest.
Draco reached a hand between them to wrap it around his pulsing cock. He cried out when another brush of his prostate had him seeing white behind his closed lids.
“Ahcy suys eaara,” Harry moaned, cheek pressed against his chest. (I love you)
Draco’s back bowed as Harry increased the pace beyond what would have been possible if they were still human. He matched the pace, hand quickening over his cock as the muscles in his stomach tightened and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, said as much too.
“Then don’t. Let me see your pleasure, let me see your desire.”
Draco opened his eyes when the weight on his chest disappeared, and Harry was staring at his face.
“Smil sie eaara.” (Let me see you)
“Harry,” Draco whispered, eyes taking in the beauty that was his mate, his husband. Draco’s blood was spread across Harry’s cheeks, nose and lips and he knew that there wasn’t a better sight in the entire world.
When Harry’s face twisted into desire and his hips began to spasm, Draco tightened around the thick cock inside him and let the moans pull him into his own completion, his orgasm ripping out of him leaving him breathless, warm and hazy.
“I love you too.” Draco smiled softly, lifting a hand to caress Harry’s cheek. His smile grew softer when his palm was nuzzled.
A small ding of a clock let them know that the next council meeting would start soon and if they didn’t want to be caught naked, again, then they’d have only a few minutes to clean up.
“Why is it that we can’t be together for long before our clothes come off?” Harry asked as he summoned their trousers from wherever he had vanished them before.
“I’m irresistible.”
“I think you mean insufferable.”
Draco blindly sent a stinging hex in Harry’s direction as he let his magic out to play and watched as it unfortunately cleaned away the proof of their blood and sex.
“It comes with my beauty, a package deal that you can’t return.”
Harry grinned, pulling Draco to him until their chests were pressed against each other and their lips were inches apart.
“You aren’t returnable,” Harry promised a lone finger trailing down Draco’s cheek. “I’m keeping you forever.”
Forever. That was a long time. A very long time.
But Draco wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Eaara sol schcry sfsonry.”
(You are my forever)