Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~2,500
Content/Warnings: author!draco, established relationship, blow jobs, fingering, anal sex, bottom!harry (but heavily implied switching)
Summary: It's been two weeks, and Draco is intent on making up for lost time.
Notes: Dear anemonen, I hope you forgive me for posting this right after the intensity that is hd_erised, but it is your birthday afterall! Your kindness and enthusiasm and beautiful artwork are all such wonderful parts of fandom, and I wanted to write you a little something to thank you for all that you do, and to especially thank you for all the many times you've created something special for me. <3 Your likes list was wonderfully inspiring, and I took a few things and hopefully created something you'll enjoy. Happiest of birthdays, darling, and a happy new year as well!
So this actually isn't *technically* one of the original reasons. But I thought that two of the reasons were really similar, so I ended up combining them, and then had to think of something to replace them. And I already had a plot bunny for anemonen based on her likes, so I just worked it in. :D
Thanks to capitu and fantasyfiend09 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
Harry was eating and reading in front of the fire, when the whoosh of green flame startled him. He looked up, and his eyes widened at the sight of Draco. Draco's hair was tousled, his clothes rumpled, and his face was covered in a week's worth of stubble. He grinned broadly at Harry, and lust sparked up Harry's spine.
"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon."
Draco gave him a puzzled look. "It's been a few days since we had dinner at Stacia's."
"No," Harry laughed, "That was nearly two weeks ago. I stopped by your flat last week, but it was pretty obvious you were having one of your inspirational flashes." Draco was a writer, and every once in awhile he would hole up in his flat and cut off communication with everybody while he worked furiously on a manuscript. The first time it had happened, Harry had been enraged. He'd thought Draco had decided to call things off without even having the decency to let him know. Harry had Apparated into the middle of Draco's flat and hadn't wasted a moment before launching into a very impressive tirade if he did say so himself. Draco had been utterly bewildered. Thankfully Harry was now more accustomed to Draco's moods and whims, though it was still a bit lonely waiting for Draco to re-emerge whenever he disappeared.
Draco grinned again. "I was. And I just finished, thank Merlin! I think this might be my best one yet."
"I can't wait to read it," Harry said. He meant it. Draco's Muggle mystery series was brilliant. It was funny and insightful, clever and thrilling. Harry still thought he should write a series for the magical community, but every time he brought it up, Draco subtly changed the subject. He knew Draco was nervous, afraid of what his reception would be. But Harry was sure that he wouldn't be able to stay away forever.
Draco's eyes landed upon Harry's half-eaten bowl of beef stew and they lit up. Harry nudged the bowl towards him, and Draco fell on it like he hadn't eaten in days. Knowing Draco and his laser-focus, he probably hadn't. Draco reached for Harry's mug of cider, draining half of it in one swallow between large spoonfuls of stew.
Harry should probably be put off by the display, but instead he found himself fascinated. Draco was normally so polished and put together, and so unlike the man before him now. The Draco that appeared right after one of his writing stints was a Draco that most people were never allowed to see. Harry never remarked on it, and never called attention to it in case he made Draco self-conscious and scared him off.
Harry loved seeing this part of him. It was like Draco was experiencing everything for the first time when he finally resurfaced, his emotions and desires intensified. Generally, he came out of these sessions having made significant headway on a project. His mood was near euphoric, even as he worked on satisfying his other desires. He was ravenous, parched, starving for food, for conversation...for sex.
They'd been dating for over a year now, and the sex was fantastic...and frequent. It was one of the most difficult things for Harry to deal with during Draco's long absences, the sudden lack of earth-shattering sex. Draco more than made up for it, though, when he finally came up for air. Harry never knew what to expect from this Draco, he never knew what Draco would take or demand. Whatever they did though, it was always mind-blowing and intense. Harry shivered with anticipation.
"Did you want more stew?" Harry asked when he heard the spoon scrape the bowl. His voice was low and lust-rough from the thoughts swirling through his head.
Draco looked up, his eyes gleaming as they raked over Harry's body. He licked his lips. "No. I don't think food is going to satisfy me now."
He shook his head, and pounced. Harry moaned as their mouths came together in a rough kiss. Draco's lips were soft and smooth, but his cheeks and chin were rough as his face rubbed against Harry's. Harry liked it: the hard scratch of Draco's whiskers contrasting with the pleasure of the kiss. It was almost like snogging somebody else, the prickle of stubble so different from the usual smooth glide of Draco's jaw. That tease of illicitness only stoked Harry's arousal higher, and he nipped and sucked on Draco's lips with greater intensity.
Draco growled, and with a pop they both dropped onto the smooth expanse of Harry's bed. Harry laughed as he began to fumble with the buttons of Draco's shirt.
"Nice bit of accuracy, that."
Draco's smile was savage, and he flicked his wand again with purpose. This time, their clothes vanished, disappearing to God knows where. Harry couldn't stop his full-body shudder. They normally prefered to leisurely remove each other's clothing by hand, and Draco hated the Vanishing spell. He only used it when he was out-of-his-mind-desperate for it.
Draco fell upon him again, pressing Harry back against the sheets and straddling his waist as he pressed fervent kisses across Harry's jaw and down the column of his throat. Harry's hands slid down the hard expanse of his back. He needed to feel the solid weight of him and know that Draco was really here after their weeks apart. Draco slid his teeth across Harry's collarbone, fingers tugging at his chest hair as he moved over to bite at a nipple. Harry's cock pulsed, and he already felt embarrassingly close to the edge.
"God, what do you want, Draco? Because if you want me to fuck you, we should probably get to it. I don't know how much longer I'm going to last."
"Don't want you to fuck me," Draco murmured into Harry's sternum, as he continued to move down Harry's body. He moved to Harry's right leg, tonguing at the sensitive skin beneath Harry's knee before licking his way up the inside of his thigh. Harry's hands convulsed in Draco's hair.
"What do you mean you don't want me to fuck you?" Draco loved being fucked. He loved being taken on his hands and knees, or with his legs wrapped around Harry's waist, or bent over the arm of Harry's sofa. Harry was pretty wild about fucking Draco, too. Draco had the best arse he'd ever seen, and he felt bloody incredible every time. The last time Draco had come back to the living after a long writing stint, Harry had fucked him wildly, right there on the floor in front of his Floo until they'd both screamed their release. Luckily Draco knew a handy charm for healing rug burns.
"I mean—" Draco paused to suck more kisses onto Harry's inner thighs. His stubble brushed roughly against the sensitive skin, making Harry tremble in pained pleasure. "—that I'm going to fuck you."
Harry's stomach flipped, and his legs instinctively opened wider. "Oh."
They didn't do it like that very often. Both of them enjoyed it so well the other way that there'd never been a burning need to switch things up. Draco had to be in a particular mood to top, and it wasn't a mood that came over him often.
As for Harry, well...it wasn't so much that he didn't enjoy bottoming, as that he almost enjoyed it too much. Draco was the only person he'd ever let fuck him, and the first time, he thought he would actually fly right out of his skin. The pleasure and pain, the burn and stretch, the overwhelming fullness and the way he could practically feel Draco's heartbeat under his skin—all of it was too much. When his orgasm had finally torn its way through him, Harry hadn't thought there'd be any of him left. The experience had been unbearably intense and intimate, leaving Harry weak and shaky. His body felt strange for days, like the flood of endorphins never quite left his system. He'd enjoyed himself, no doubt, but giving himself over like that had made him feel vulnerable and flayed open. Harry knew he wouldn't survive feeling like that every time they had sex.
Sometimes he thought that maybe Draco knew. That perhaps the reason he didn't ask to fuck Harry more often was because he understood that Harry felt it more acutely than Draco did. But whatever the reason, Draco was asking now, demanding really, and Harry was ready to give in. It had been months since the last time, and he felt a thrill of anticipation at what was to come. It may have been too intense to experience every day, but it had been long enough since Harry had last come apart, and he was eager for it now.
Draco mouthed his way to Harry's erection, leaving his thighs tingling from the scrape of his stubble. Harry felt a momentary flash of panic at having that scruffy face near his prick, but the fear disappeared when Draco swallowed him down. He arched up into the wet heat of Draco's mouth while his throat released a garbled sound between a yell and a moan. Focusing on the white-hot pleasure, he almost startled to feel the slick slide of fingers between his cheeks, searching out his hole.
He relaxed and let Draco inside. It had been a long damn while, and it wasn't something he'd ever bothered doing on his own, so it was a tight fit. Draco's fingers worked at him for ages, pushing and pressing inside of him, relaxing his passage while Draco's mouth continued its pleasurable assault on his cock. Draco's fingers swiped over his prostate in an irregular rhythm, likely understanding how close to the edge Harry would get if they maintained a steady massage.
"Now, Draco," Harry moaned, when it all became too much, when it felt like he'd go mad if Draco didn't start fucking him that very instant.
"Yeah, yes. Fuck."
Draco scrambled up, pouring out some more liquid from the bottle of lube he must've summoned from Harry's bedside table. He slicked himself up with hurried motions, droplets of lube splattering against Harry's cock and stomach. Draco looked down at Harry then, his eyes dark and near frantic with desire. Harry let out an embarrassing whine, and Draco swooped down to kiss him, wet and messy, before kneeling back up between Harry's legs.
Harry wrapped his legs around Draco's waist when he scooched forward, wincing slightly at the rub of his reddened thighs against Draco's waist. The tip of Draco's cock pressed against Harry's hole and he wriggled back against it, needing to feel Draco inside of him, as deep as he could get. The head slipped in, and Harry panted, breathing through the sudden stretch. Draco shifted his hips, thrusting in shallow increments until his cock was fully buried in Harry's arse. Harry gasped for breath, trying to breath around the fullness that seemed to have taken up every available space in his body. They had barely even started yet and already it felt like so much.
Draco shifted his hips, his cock moving deep inside Harry. He began to thrust, awkwardly, before frowning and swearing under his breath. Before Harry could ask what was wrong, a firm hand gripped his right leg and pried it from Draco's waist. Draco guided Harry's leg up, until his ankle rested on Draco's shoulder, his leg pressed up all along Draco's chest. Harry felt even more exposed like this, letting Draco manoeuvre him however he wanted while his cock was fully inside him. But that was okay, it was good, because Draco was smiling his pleased little smile and adjusting himself until he pressed even deeper inside Harry than before. Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head, the stretch and pleasure almost unbearable as Draco began to move, began to take him with hard, deep thrusts that shook him to his core.
Even though they hadn't done this often, Draco still knew just how to fuck him. He knew the perfect angle to thrust at to leave Harry a quivering, moaning wreck. His cock was hard and sure as it slid inside of him over and over, the pace never relenting. Draco's eyes were bright with pleasure, as he grinned savagely down at Harry. Sweat slid down the hard planes of his lightly muscled chest, and Harry ached with the desire to follow them with his tongue. He could do that later, though, sometime when Draco wasn't fucking him with such piercing force.
Harry could feel his orgasm prickling under his skin, and his hard cock slapped against his belly with every thrust. He knew Draco had to be close; Draco rarely bothered to wank during his writing sessions, and the fact that he'd managed to last this long was quite the feat. Draco's fingers dug hard into the muscles of his thigh and calf, using his grip as leverage to deliver his devastating thrusts. Harry reached down and began working his cock. He was desperate to reach his peak and the bone-melting orgasm that the prick in his arse promised.
A few moments later he reached it. Bright lights burst behind his eyes as his cock erupted, splashes of white covering his chest while his body convulsed. Draco growled and his hips lost their rhythm. He fucked wildly, desperately, into Harry's clenching hole, until he, too, found his release. Draco pressed himself inside as he came, the hot fluid coating Harry's loosened channel and dripping out of him in sluggish trails of white.
Harry didn't even notice. He was lost in the hazy, post-orgasmic world of the well fucked. His bones felt non-existent, like bloody Lockhart had come in and vanished them all, leaving Harry flopped on the bed like a wet noodle. A well satisfied wet noodle.
The familiar tingle of a cleaning charm sparkled over his skin, before a warm, solid Draco dropped onto Harry's chest. Draco found Harry's mouth, and they traded slow, hot kisses, as Harry's brain tried to work through the euphoric fog filling his head.
"How are you feeling?" Harry murmured.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
Harry smiled. "I feel great. But I'm not the one who's gone weeks without taking care of myself."
Draco waved a hand airily and grinned. "I've taken perfectly good care of myself."
"Well. I missed you."
"You missed my arse, you mean."
"I still miss your arse. I didn't even get to see it."
"Are you complaining?"
"No." Harry blushed. He could still feel Draco inside him. He could feel him in the twinge in his arse, in the bruises on his calf, in the stubble burn on the inside of his thighs. "But I fully plan on fucking you just as soon as I recover."
Draco smiled and curled up against Harry's chest. "I look forward to it."