Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~1,400
Content/Warnings: established relationship, semi-public!sex, blow jobs, fingering, slight foreign language kink, alley!sex
Summary: It's Harry's first time leaving Great Britain and he plans on taking full advantage of it.
Notes: Darling candamira: I wanted to write you a little something for your birthday, because it's been wonderful getting to know you, and you were so amazing to co-write me such a fun fic for my birthday last year. I tried to fit several of your likes in here from your list, though I definitely didn't manage to get them all. I'm posting this a bit early, since I'm being thrifty and doubling this as a 50 Reasons ficlet, and I wanted to try and keep my regular posting schedule. I hope you don't mind it being a bit early! And I really hope you enjoy this, hon. Have a lovely birthday!
The original reason was "because you haven't had sex with a person from that country yet" but that doesn't exactly work for H/D, since they are both from the same country...SO, I decided to change it a bit. :D
Thanks to capitu and lauren3210 for looking this over for me! And thanks to nia_kantorka for giving this an extra look over to make sure I was on the right track. I played around with it a bit since, so all remaining mistakes are my own.
50 Reasons to Have Sex Masterlist
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Harry was not too proud to admit that he was awe-struck. He'd definitely not had a lot of opportunity to travel growing up, and until today, he'd never even left Great Britain. And now here he was, strolling around Paris, not even trying to not look like some amazed tourist.
Because France was amazing. The gorgeous buildings, the romantic river, the buzzing, humming life all around them, filling the air with the sounds of rapid-fire French. Beside him, Draco seemed quietly amused by his reactions, but never condescending. He'd known Harry wasn't exactly well-traveled, and he seemed content to let Harry wander through the streets unchecked.
Draco was in Paris for some kind of Potions conference, and when he'd told Harry about the trip a few weeks ago, Harry couldn't stop the tiny flare of jealousy he'd felt at the opportunity, even if the conference did sound a bit dull. But Draco had always been observant, and he'd convinced Harry to take a few days off work and come early with him to Paris, so they could have a little weekend away.
It hadn't even been a full day, but Harry was already convinced it had been the greatest idea ever. Getting Draco outside of the Wizarding Quarter had been a bit of a battle, but even he looked like he was enjoying himself now, captivated by the natural magic of the city.
They'd spent the entire afternoon walking around, eating delicious baked goods, drinking warm mugs of café au lait, and taking an obscene amount of photos. The sun was just starting to set, and they figured it might be time to start heading back; they just need to figure out how.
Harry leaned against a lamp-post and watched as Draco went up to a vendor to ask for directions back to their hotel. No matter where he started looking, his eyes were continuously drawn back to Draco. He smiled at the thought that even surrounded by all this foreign beauty, Draco still managed to be the most fascinating thing around.
It didn't hurt that he looked particularly sexy today, dressed in tight black trousers that made his arse look ridiculously fuckable, and a dark purple v-neck that made his collarbones look practically pornographic. Not to mention that he was fucking fluent in French, and had been speaking it all day as they wandered in and out of cafés and shops. Harry had realized that he might have a bit of a foreign language kink, because hearing those smooth, musical syllables falling out of Draco's posh mouth made his own trousers feel uncomfortably tight. He wanted to feel that clever, talented mouth wrapped around his cock.
Draco made his way back over, and Harry reluctantly pulled out of his fantasies, sliding into step with Draco as he pointed out the way back home.
Arousal hummed through Harry's veins, refusing to cooperate and just wait until they got back to the hotel. The fact that the light evening breeze kept wafting Draco's scent towards him, didn't exactly help matters either. Harry was pretty sure he had developed some sort of pathological reaction to the smell of lemongrass and bergamot, thanks to Draco and that fancy soap he loved so much, because just the faintest whiff always got him going.
Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to keep up with Draco's brisk pace with a hard-on, and it wasn't long before Draco stopped and turned to face him full-on.
"Is there a reason you're walking so slowly? Are you hurt?"
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him into the closest alleyway, pushing him back into the dark recesses and kissing him desperately.
"What's – what's got you so keyed up?" Draco asked, when they finally came up for air.
"I don't know. This day, this city, you, looking like fucking sex on legs, spouting off French like it's your native language."
"Ahh, so French gets you hot, does it?" Draco waggled his eyebrows.
"It does when you're speaking it. Sounds filthy coming out of your mouth."
"And you couldn't wait until we got back to our room?"
"No, too far." Harry ground himself against Draco's leg, proving his desperation.
Draco chuckled lowly. "We had sex just this morning!"
"Yes, but that was ages ago, before our Portkey. Besides...we've never had sex in France before…I think we should really get on that as soon as possible."
Draco let out an exasperated sigh, but he couldn't hide the fondness. "Alright then, since you're so keen to get off in this alleyway…" He leaned forward, breath hot on Harry's ear. "What do you want?"
Harry shivered as his mind flicked over all the tantalizing possibilities. But he kept coming back to his earlier fantasy, Draco sucking him off with that amazing mouth of his.
"Want you to blow me."
Harry could practically hear Draco's smug smile as he dropped easily to his knees, not a care in the world about dirtying up his expensive trousers. He wasted no time at all in undoing Harry's trousers and roughly pulling them down to his knees, fully exposing him to the night air. A frisson of pleasure-spiked fear ran through him as he fully realized how public this all was. He could hear the sounds of the the busy street at the end of the alleyway, and even though they were covered by shadows, they were still much more exposed than was really appropriate. The thought sent his blood pounding, his heart racing, the adrenaline rush spurring his arousal to crazy heights, and Draco hadn't even touched him yet.
But it didn't take long before Draco was wrapping a spit-slicked hand around him, and lowering his warm mouth onto Harry's cock. Fuck he was good at that, twisting and bobbing and licking and sucking until Harry's legs felt like jelly. Draco's shoulder length hair fell in a curtain around his face, obscuring Harry's view, and Harry dragged his fingers through the strands, pinning the hair back and resting his hands gently against Draco's head as he watched him suck his cock deeper and deeper.
With his free hand, Draco hit against Harry's legs, and Harry took the hint, spreading his legs as wide as his trousers would allow. Draco hummed his approval, and the vibration pulsated around Harry's cock, making him bite his lip on a moan. Despite the thrill he felt at the idea of being caught, he knew the reality would be significantly less sexy, and he'd rather not waste the rest of his time in Paris being brought up for public indecency. His boss, Head Auror Robards, probably wouldn't be too thrilled, either.
A finger rubbed along Harry's cock, slipping alongside it into Draco's mouth, and all thoughts about Harry's boss flew from his head. It was only there for a moment, and then it was sliding back, skating behind Harry's bullocks, ghosting along his perineum, before slipping up to circle Harry's entrance.
His head thunked back against the brick wall as the digit slipped inside, but Harry didn't even register the pain; he was too focused on the slide on Draco's questing finger inside of him, wiggling around until Draco found Harry's prostate. He began a rhythmic massage that had Harry's legs threatening to buckle from the sensation.
Merlin, it felt amazing, the dual pleasure of Draco's hot mouth and wicked finger spurring Harry on, hurtling him towards orgasm. He looked down, his eyes locking on Draco's as he gave a hard suck, tapping mercilessly on Harry's prostate, and then that was it. Harry came, spurting thickly into Draco's mouth and doing his best to stay silent throughout.
He shivered, and panted heavily as he leaned back against the wall. Distantly, he registered Draco tucking him back in and standing up, but he was too orgasm-lazy to do anything but exist.
"Satisfied?" Draco asked with a smirk, gathering his mussed hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck.
"Incredibly. But, what about you?"
"Unlike some people, I have no problem controlling myself until we get back to the relative solitude of our hotel room." He turned and started walking back towards the street, the click of his heavy, dragonhide boots echoing through the alleyway.
Harry followed, and shamelessly checked out Draco's arse as he led the way, imagining all the dirty things he wanted to do to it when they got back to their hotel.
So far, he definitely loved Paris.