Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~1,500
Content/Warnings: established relationship, character death (not H/D), grief and mourning, comfort sex, anal sex, anal fingering, bottom Draco, implied switching
Summary: Harry comforts Draco after the death of his mother.
Notes: Sorry guys, this one's a bit depressing. Though it's actually one of my favorites so far, I think.
Thanks to capitu and lauren3210 for looking this over for me! I played around with it a bit since, so all remaining mistakes are my own.
50 Reasons to Have Sex Masterlist
Read on AO3
The door to their bedroom closed with a heavy snap, the sound loud and jarring in the weighted silence of the house. Harry observed Draco with careful eyes, watched him as he leaned wearily against the wooden door, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Draco's entire body trembled almost imperceptibly, and his jaw clenched tight as he took deep, controlled breaths. Even now, he was still trying to hold himself together. The dark of the room and the black of his robes made Draco's pale skin and blond hair seem luminescent in the moonlight – almost ethereal. The long line of his neck and the sensitive hollow of his throat were fully exposed, and Harry knew it really wasn't the time, but he couldn't help the frisson of arousal that sliced through him at the sight.
It had been a long day. A long, painful day, that was finally, thankfully, reaching its end. He grabbed Draco's hand and tugged him gently forward to wrap him in a much-needed hug. The funeral had been so much worse for Draco than it had been for him, Harry knew that, but they'd been together long enough now that Harry felt Draco's pain just as acutely as his own. Narcissa and he had never been close, but they'd reached a sort of truce these past few years, and Draco had loved her, which had been enough for Harry.
Draco melted into Harry's embrace, compliant and malleable in a way he never was. Harry clutched him just a little too tight as they stood together in the dark of the room. His cheek brushed against Harry's and the sticky wetness of partially dried tears left tracks of cold on Harry's skin.
"Let's get into bed, yeah?" Harry whispered, as softly as he could. The room seemed muffled under a shroud of dampening melancholy, and Harry was loathe to disrupt it with the sharp edge of sound.
Draco nodded complacently, before he stripped down to nothing and crawled under the covers of their bed. His formal funeral robes puddled haphazardly on the ground and Harry ached. Draco was always so fastidious, especially with his clothing, and for some reason Harry felt this small abandonment of Draco's principles more strongly than any of the other changes this past week had brought.
He took the time to properly put away Draco's robes, folding and hanging the immaculate clothing, before removing his own, and joining Draco in the bed. The sheets were cold against his bare skin, and he scooted closer to Draco's unmoving body, wrapping himself around him. He may not be able to insulate him from the pain of losing his mother, but at least he could help keep the cold of the night at bay.
Draco sighed and wriggled back against him as he covered Harry's hand on his chest with one of his own. Harry heard his heavy, too-even breaths, and wondered if it would help or harm if he told Draco that it was okay to let go. That Harry would be there to bring him back if he needed to get lost in his grief for awhile. Draco was always so reserved with his feelings, but Harry knew that beneath his icy exterior was a heart that sometimes felt too much. Harry didn't want him to bottle this up, to let his sadness eat away at him and take him somewhere Harry couldn't follow.
"Harry." His name was a ghost of a sound, and Harry wondered if he'd just imagined it.
"Yeah?" He thought he'd reply just in case, his words pressed into Draco's hair.
"Would you – I want you to – " Draco's voice cracked and Harry had to forcibly steel himself against reacting. Draco wouldn't appreciate an acknowledgement of his weakness. "I don't want to think right now. I want you to make me forget, just for awhile." He slid Harry's hand down his stomach, hovering right above his groin in unmistakable intent.
"Yeah, yeah I can do that. Do you want me to blow you? Or I could ride you, do all the work?"
Draco shook his head. "No. No, I want to you to fuck me. Just like this. Want to feel you in me."
"Okay." Harry pressed a kiss against the nape of Draco's neck and wandlessly summoned the lube from their bedside table.
It wasn't often that they did things this way. Getting fucked didn't do as much for Draco as it did for Harry, and both of them tended to prefer other ways of getting off than full on fucking. Harry may have been a little surprised at the request, but he certainly wasn't going to turn Draco down. Right now, being as close as he possibly could be to Draco sounded like the best thing in the world.
He coated his fingers and slid them down to circle Draco's hole. Draco was unusually relaxed, and it was nothing at all for Harry to slide his fingers inside, one, then two. Harry kissed Draco's shoulder as Draco gasped wetly with every thrust of his fingers, Draco's arse twitching shallowly back against his hand.
When Harry finally pressed inside of Draco he let out a choked sob, and Harry wasn't sure if it was from pleasure or sadness. He made as if to stop and pull out, but Draco's hand flew back to grip Harry's arse and keep him pressed deep inside.
"Just...please. Don't stop," Draco said, his voice thick.
Harry gripped Draco's waist and thrust steadily inside, almost shivering with the intensity of Draco's arse wrapped around him, hot and tight. Their legs tangled together, Harry's thigh pressed between Draco's and Draco's slim ankle hooked around his calf. Draco's hand covered Harry's on Draco's waist and gripped tight, bruising his own skin as Harry fucked him slow and deep.
Draco's entire body quivered. His head was half buried in his pillow as he shook, and low, broken cries escaped his throat with every push inside. Harry's throat felt tight, messy emotion spilling out of him as he breathed hot into Draco's shoulder and trailed kisses up his neck. He didn't know how to fix this, he didn't know how to make Draco stop hurting. If he could, he'd take on the burden of his grief in an instant, but all he could do was be there for him, hold him and kiss him and fuck him. It felt good, right, to be pressed all along Draco, their bodies fused together as Harry took him. There was something exposed about this moment, Draco's vulnerability flaying Harry raw. It felt like every ounce of feeling he had for Draco was being pushed to the surface, bleeding out against Draco's skin as he tried to give Draco what he needed.
They moved together for what felt like an eternity, until the cool air of the room turned hot and muggy as their sweat slick bodies slid together. Harry could feel his orgasm hovering just within reach, and he slipped his hand down to Draco's cock to bring him off. Draco whimpered and shook harder as Harry started wanking him in time with his steady thrusts, and it was no time at all before Draco was stiffening up as he spilled hot and wet into Harry's hand.
"I love you, you know," Harry whispered, as Draco's hole clenched around him. " Fuck, I love you, Draco. So much." Harry came with his own quiet sob, holding Draco close as he emptied himself inside him.
They stayed like that for long moments, wrapped together, the room silent save for Draco's muffled tears. When the air started to turn icy cold against their dampened skin, Harry reluctantly pulled away. He grabbed his wand and spelled them both clean and dry, before dragging the covers more firmly over them both.
Harry went to spoon himself around Draco again, but to his surprise, Draco turned and curled up against his chest. Draco wrapped his arm tight around Harry's stomach and pressed his hot, tear-stained face against his breast, and – despite his pain at Draco's misery – Harry felt a bloom of warmth unfurl in his chest. Draco was letting him in, letting Harry give him comfort, letting Harry hold him and stroke him while he worked through his emotions. Harry felt honoured that Draco trusted him that much. It made something fierce and protective well up inside him, made him want to eviscerate anybody who would try to hurt Draco, made him want to protect this pained Draco, this Draco who was something to be cradled in delicate hands, like a bird with a broken wing.
He ran his fingers through the silken strands of Draco's fine hair, and stared up at the ceiling as he felt drowsiness creep over him. Against his chest, the shuddering had subsided, and Draco's breath left him in sleep-slow exhales. Harry knew Draco hadn't been sleeping much since his mother's death, and he prayed that tonight his weariness would lead to pleasant dreams and a full night's rest. Harry had a feeling that it would.
Everything would be okay.