wicked smut goddess (gracerene) wrote,
wicked smut goddess

H/D Fic: Not Just When You Want to Be - Chapter 6

Title: Not Just When You Want to Be
Author: gracerene
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry, Draco/Astoria, Harry/Ginny, background Ron/Hermione, mention of Draco/OMCs
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5,500/~37,000
Content/Warnings: post-war, post-hogwarts, auror Harry, professional Seeker Draco, blow jobs, fingering, first time, anal sex, rimming, intergluteal sex, comeplay, switching, fuck buddies, epilogue-compliant,
Summary: More than a year after the end of the war, fate seems intent on pushing Harry and Draco together.

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Previous Chapter on LJ

Chapter 6

Once again, Draco was convinced he'd never hear from Potter again. These days, it seemed like Draco lived in a near constant state of worry that each time he saw Potter it would be the last. Probably because every time he saw Potter, Draco was doing something insanely idiotic. That was nothing new. He had been acting stupid around Potter since he was eleven. Fortunately, finally getting off with another person after months of celibacy had done wonders for Draco's mood. He couldn't bring himself to regret sucking Potter off, not even if it meant he wouldn't have the opportunity to do so again.

As always, Draco's supposition that he had heard the last of Potter was proved wrong a few days later. He was surprised. Not only because Potter never owled twice in one week, but also because the note was not inviting him to lunch. Instead, Potter invited him over for after-dinner drinks. Draco smiled. It looked like he would have another opportunity to suck Potter's cock after all.

They didn't actually manage to make it as far as blow jobs though, when Draco Apparated over later that night. Potter was on him as soon as they walked into the living room. He pushed Draco back onto the sofa and climbed right onto his lap. His mouth descended on Draco's like he had something to prove. Maybe he did, but that wasn't Draco's concern. He grabbed Potter's arse—that gloriously firm arse—and pulled him down against him, guiding their groins into a dirty, grinding rhythm as Potter fairly ravished Draco's mouth. They rocked together until they both came in their trousers like fumbling schoolboys. Draco couldn't even be bothered to care. Orgasms were excellent for his disposition. Maybe he wouldn't have been such an arse at Hogwarts if he'd been getting laid. Though he doubted there was an orgasm in the world that was life-changing enough to overcome Lucius's influence. At least, not back then.

He made to leave after, but when Potter sheepishly offered him that drink he had lured Draco there with, Draco could hardly say no. It was free alcohol, after all. They drank and talked for awhile, the conversation surprisingly easy between them, now that the sexual tension that had been hanging over their heads had finally dissipated. Draco left several hours later feeling satisfied and strangely refreshed, despite the sleepiness beginning to weigh his eyelids down.

It was the start of a beautiful arrangement. They began to meet up several times a week, frequently enough that they had a routine of sorts. Potter rarely bothered sending owls to set up their liaisons anymore, instead casually mentioning one day that he was free most evenings. When Draco had appeared a few nights later, Potter looked pleased and not at all surprised. In fact, Draco was the surprised one, later, when Potter dropped to his knees, looking up at Draco with those intense green eyes. It was clear that Potter hadn't ever had a cock in his mouth before, but he was enthusiastic, willing, and he seemed to quite like it when Draco's hands tangled in his butter-soft hair. He came on Potter's lips and tongue, nearly overcome with desire at the lust-glazed look in Potter's eyes and the way his pink tongue licked Draco's release off his lips.

His mood was not the only thing that improved when Draco had a regular shag. His flying had never been better. Even his manager had remarked upon his stellar performance of late. He had heavily hinted at the possibility of starting Draco as Seeker within the next year, and Draco's heart soared at the news. He knew it was only a matter of time before his hard work on the Quidditch pitch paid off, and Draco was so close he could almost taste it. The fame. The acceptance. The redemption.

The following Monday when he came over to Grimmauld Place, he Apparated him and Potter up to Potter's bed, yanking Potter's trousers and pants off and swallowing his cock down without so much as a by-your-leave. He spread Potter's legs wide, and conjured up some lube—not as good as the bottled stuff, but it would do in a pinch. Draco stroked Potter's hole, begging Potter to let him in when he pulled of for air. Potter nodded eagerly, and Draco went back down, sucking hard on Potter's cock until he finally relaxed enough to let a finger in. Draco felt wild, flying high on adrenaline and victory. He wanted to make Potter fly too, so he crooked his finger, pleased with Potter's shocked moan and sudden euphoric writhing. Draco worked him over, his mouth on Potter's cock and his fingers fucking him open until Potter shouted his release. He came himself a few moments later, his come dripping onto Potter's limp cock as Draco kneeled above him.

Draco's life felt fuller than it had in a long while. There were his gruelling training sessions, awkward family dinners, drinks with Pansy and Greg and Theo, shopping with Astoria, and his several nights a week spent at Potter's. It was, Draco thought, like having all the benefits of a relationship, without any of that messy emotional rubbish. He spent enough time with Astoria to prevent his mother from setting up dates with various eligible witches, and meanwhile he was getting it off with the most eligible wizard in all of Great Britain.

Life was good


They had been blowing off steam together for well over six months when Draco came over and encountered a distracted Potter. It was clear that something was on his mind, and though he was curious, Draco knew by now that the best course of action would be to wait it out. Eventually Potter would spit out whatever he had been worrying at. Normally it might concern Draco that he was so in tune with his fuck buddy's moods and quirks, but this was Potter. Draco had been watching Potter long before they had started sleeping together. It didn't need to mean anything more now that sex was involved.

Draco helped himself to a glass of Firewhisky, and sat down on the chair in front of the fire with that day's Prophet. Potter stared moodily into the flames. It occurred to Draco that he could go home to drink his own Firewhisky and read his own paper. With Potter in a mood and sex possibly off the table, it made no sense to linger. The thought filled Draco with a strange reluctance. Reluctance, he rationalised, that stemmed from the possibility of missing out on sex should Potter work through whatever was bothering him. Draco nodded to himself, satisfied with his explanation for the uncomfortable feelings, and opened the paper.

"So," Potter began suddenly, breaking the silence. He was quite obviously not looking directly at Draco, and the tips of his ears were dusted red. "I was wondering."

"Yes?" Draco prompted, after Potter failed to continue.

"Well, err, I was wondering why we, erm...why we've never had sex."

Draco stared at Potter blankly, his mind helpfully supplying him with every explicit detail of the many, many times they'd had sex over the past several months.

Potter blushed, seeming to understand exactly where Draco's mind had gone. "I don't mean—obviously we've been having sex—but we haven't….we've never fucked. Properly."

Draco's eyes widened as he finally caught onto Potter's meaning. He was right, they hadn't fucked yet, though not for a lack of desire on Draco's part. Ever since that first time he had fingered Potter, he could not stop dreaming—often literally—of fucking Potter into his mattress. But Potter had clearly never been fucked before, and Draco didn't want to push. Potter might be fond of a few fingers in his arse, but taking a cock was an entirely different matter.

Draco cleared his throat. "Fucking is a big step. I know that all of this is still rather new to you. I didn't want to push you into something you weren't ready for." Salazar, he sounded like a bloody Hufflepuff.

Potter grinned. "Aww, Malfoy, I didn't know you cared."

Draco glared, even as his stomach somersaulted at the open affection on Potter's face. "Shocking as it may be to believe, I'm not actually interested in fucking somebody who isn't ready or enjoying themselves."

Potter bit his lip, his expression sobering. "Sorry, I know that. But, um, I think I am. Ready I mean."

Blood rushed to Draco's cock, and he had to restrain himself from Apparating them both to Potter's bedroom right then. He was still a little annoyed at Potter for his earlier comment. Potter could stand to squirm a bit longer.

"Oh? And what makes you think that?"

"I, um, I really like it when you—when you put your fingers in me. The way I feel kind of tight and loose all at once." Potter drew in a shuddering breath, and Draco felt it in his own chest. "I like the stretch of it, and even though it's good, it still doesn't feel like enough. I want more. I've been dreaming about it. I dream about you holding me down, and pressing inside. I want that. God, Draco, I want you to fuck me."

"Draco?" Draco's heart was racing, his chest tight with lust, anticipation, and something sweeter that Draco refused to name.

"I figure if you're going to be sticking your cock in me, then we should at least be on a first name basis."

"Such high standards." Draco had stuck his cock in several blokes whose names he had not even known.

"Are you going to fuck me, or not?"

Draco stood, prowling over to Potter and grabbing his waist. "I'm going to fuck you, Harry."

With a twist, they appeared in Harry's familiar bedroom, and Draco pulled Harry towards him for a hungry kiss. They stripped quickly as they stumbled to the bed, their lips never parting for more than a moment as their clothes went flying. For once, Draco couldn't even be bothered to do a proper folding spell on his discarded clothing. He was too focused on Harry and all the dirty things he wanted to do to him.

"How should we do this?" Harry asked against Draco's mouth. His teeth pulled at Draco's bottom lip, and Draco shivered.

"Why don't you turn over for me."

Harry nodded and reached over to his bedside table. He grabbed a partially used bottle of lube and tossed it back to Draco, before moving to his hands and knees. Draco's breath caught. Harry's lightly tanned skin seemed to practically glow in the faint light from the corner lamp. He wasn't huge or bulky, but his Auror training had given him strength and definition, the play of light and shadow bringing out the lean lines of his muscles. Draco's gaze trailed down from the head of messy dark hair he had grown so fond of, down the sweeping expanse of his back, and landing on his perfectly sculpted backside. Harry had a bloody fantastic arse. So pert and firm and fuckable.

Draco opened the lube and coated his fingers, noting the tension that seemed to vibrate through Harry's frame as he brought his fingers up to caress his wrinkled hole.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to. You can change your mind."

Harry shook his head. "No, I want this. Just...nervous I guess."

"That's normal. But it is going to feel good, you know." Draco continued massaging Harry's rim, pleased to feel it unclenching and relaxing. "It's going to feel so good."

Harry exhaled heavily, and the last of his tension left him. Slowly, Draco eased a finger inside. He pressed all the way in with ease, and he pumped in a few times before pressing back in with two. The fit was much tighter, but they had gotten this far before, and it wasn't long before Harry was loosening up, his passage relaxing as Draco twisted his fingers and rubbed against his prostate. Harry's channel felt so warm and silky, the feeling nearly undoing Draco, and it was only his fingers. By the time Draco had worked a third digit inside of him, Harry was panting loudly. His arse was wet and open, and Draco watched in avid fascination as Harry pressed back onto Draco's hand. Even though Harry had asked for it, part of Draco still couldn't quite believe that Harry wanted it, wanted Draco. He could see Harry's cock though, hard and leaking onto his sheets, proof of his desire. Draco's own cock throbbed painfully.

"That's enough, Draco. I'm good. You should...I want you to…"

"Yeah, okay, I can do that."

He got to his knees behind Harry and slicked his cock with shaking hands. His overwhelming arousal made him feel jittery and embarrassingly nervous. This was not the first time he'd done this—far from it—but it had been almost a year since the last time and none of those other blokes had been Harry. Draco didn't want this to matter more, but he could not deny that the fact that it was Harry on his hands and knees right now had Draco feeling like an inexperienced virgin, desperate to make it good and ready to blow his load at any moment. Before him, Harry's hole was beckoning him with its slick, puffy rim, just begging to be filled. He pressed the tip of his cock to Harry's opening, a tremor running through him at the touch.


Harry nodded silently. Draco spared a moment to wish he could see his face, but he knew this position would be easier for Harry's first time.

"Alright, push back against me. It's going to burn a bit, but it'll get better. Let me know if it's too much."

Harry nodded again, and Draco pressed forward. Draco sank his length slowly into the burning heat of him, working his way inside in incremental thrusts. He slipped a hand around Harry's waist and gripped his flagging erection, wanking him as he pushed all the way inside. Draco stopped when he was fully buried to let Harry adjust. Draco knew from experience how overwhelming it was to take a cock for the first time. He ran a palm up and down the side of Harry's back while he waited, maintaining a steady pull on Harry's prick with his other hand. He hoped the pleasure would help to balance out the burn while Harry accustomed himself to the fullness inside of him. Draco's every nerve ending was alight with the desire to thrust into the beautiful grip of Harry's arse, but he held back, only just managing to balance on the knife's edge of his control. Finally, he felt Harry's hips move beneath him, hitching back as if to take more of him in. Urging him on.

"Want me to move?" He hoped Harry could hear the desperate plea in his voice.


Harry's voice was low and rough, and Draco's hips moved on instinct before the word had fully left Harry's mouth. He pulled out and pressed back in, shallowly at first, before picking up speed and depth. Harry whined and whimpered, doing his best to rock into every thrust. Draco let go of Harry's cock and moved back to grip both hips to give himself better leverage as he fucked inside. Harry was hot and tight around him, and Draco clenched his teeth against the urge to come. He knew he was being too rough, that he was riding Harry too hard for his first time, but Draco wasn't sure he could stop, not unless Harry told him to. His hips moved of their own accord, leading Draco by the cock towards an ever-approaching orgasm.

"Harder," Harry rasped out. "You can fuck me harder."

Draco did. He fucked him until Harry's arms collapsed beneath him, and he fell to his elbows. His back arched attractively into Draco's thrusts. Draco watched in avid fascination as his cock disappeared over and over into Harry's hole while Harry pushed back eagerly against him. The sight was mesmerising, the red, wrinkled skin of Harry's hole wrapped tight around Draco's flushed, slick cock. Harry's head was turned to the side, and his mouth dropped open to let out a constant stream of desperate, breathy moans. Draco knew he was not much better. Eager grunts escaped his throat without permission, as Draco pumped his hips.

With Harry's arms half-crushed beneath his weight, Draco reached around to give him a hand. He wanked him hard and fast in time with his punishing thrusts, and it didn't take long before Harry was spilling onto the sheets. His channel clamped down tight around Draco's cock as Harry came, and Draco only made it a few more moments in that vice-like heat before he was coming, too. His heart beat madly as he emptied himself inside Harry, the orgasm overwhelming in its intensity. Draco didn't think he had ever come so hard in his entire life. He had always enjoyed sex—who didn't?—but this had been in another category altogether. Judging by the near euphoric look on Harry's face, it had been pretty damn good for him as well. The sex had been even more mind-blowing than Draco could have even imagined. Which did not explain the entirely unexpected kernel of foreboding that had lodged itself in Draco's stomach, as if such earth-shattering sex could somehow be a bad thing. He ignored it. Negative feelings had no business making themselves known after sex like that.

Moments later, as they lay sweaty and sated side by side on the bed, Harry summoned a crumpled but unopened pack of cigarettes. He fumbled with the pack for a moment before sliding two out and passing one to Draco.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't," Harry said, lighting up with a flick of his wand. He tilted his head questioningly at Draco, and Draco held out the fag for a light.

"I hate to break it to you, Potter, but this, right here, is smoking." Draco look a long drag, watching the smoke billow as he exhaled. He had never picked up the habit for real, but Theo smoked like a chimney, and he would always pout if Draco didn't join him outside when they were out together.

Harry shoved playfully at his shoulder. "Don't be a prat. I always wanted to have a smoke after sex. Thought I'd finally see what all the fuss was about. And it's Harry."

"There's fuss…Harry?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, there's fuss. But I think it's a Muggle thing, mostly. And a bit over-rated." He looked down in disappointment at the smoldering stick between his fingers. Draco tried not to think it was adorable.

"I don't know. I am rather enjoying it," Draco murmured, taking another deep inhale and letting the smoke curl through him before releasing it in a satisfied puff. "Fuck, I feel fantastic."

"Really?" Harry stared at his cigarette in determination, before taking a too-long drag. He sputtered, smoke spewing out of his mouth as he coughed. Draco doubled over in laughter.

"Don't worry," he choked out, once the chuckles had subsided. Harry was glaring at him in consternation, but the look didn't have any heat. How could it, when Harry's skin was still flushed, his eyes bright, his body loose and relaxed from writhing beneath Draco only minutes earlier. He looked good. Good and beautiful and happy. Draco cleared his throat and pasted on a cocky smile. "You can't be good at everything, you know. Well, I can, but that's a different story. Some things come naturally."

Harry snorted and looked down wryly at the cigarette in his hand. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to be naturally gifted at smoking." His fingernails were surprisingly smooth around the slim, white cigarette, his large, roughened hands handling the fragile stick with an almost tender delicacy. Draco liked Harry's hands.

"Yes, well," Draco smirked at Harry, hoping it didn't look as shaky as it felt. "It's all about the sucking and blowing, is it not? I'd say I'm rather gifted when it comes to that."

Harry's eyes darkened, evergreen trees and damp leaves on a stormy night. "Yeah, I'll give you that."

"Lucky for you, you have so many other natural talents."

"Yeah, like what?" Harry's mouth pulled up into a teasing half-grin. It made Draco feel breathless with the privilege of seeing it, of being the recipient of that pleased, artless smile.

"Well, I'd say the way you took my cock just now was pretty impressive." Harry glared as he choked on his inhale again, and Draco smiled innocently back. It had been impressive. Impressive, and sexy, and mind-blowingly hot, the way Harry's back had arched, the sounds he'd made…Harry huffed a laugh, and Draco realised he had been lost in the pleasure of those recent memories. His exhausted cock made a valiant attempt to rise at the remembrance. Draco blushed and changed the subject before Harry could make a comment.

"Actually, I was wondering about that. We've never really talked about past experience. Obviously you mentioned that you'd never done anything with a bloke before. But you and the girl Weasley were together for quite awhile."

"And?" Harry banished their smoldering stubs with an absent wave of his hand. His wand lay untouched on the bedside table. Draco felt a confusing throb of jealousy and arousal.

"And, did you two ever fuck?"

"We fooled around a bit, but it was all pretty tame. Only rubbing up against each other, really." Harry looked at him suspiciously. "What's it matter to you, anyways?"

That was a good question. Draco didn't know why he was so curious about Harry's past, why he was so interested in hearing about him and his ex-girlfriend. It was still a little surreal, hooking up with the Golden Child of the wizarding world. Maybe he only wanted to make sense of it all. He'd had his prick up Harry Potter's arse, and it was the best shag of his life. Draco figured he could be excused if that fact still had him reeling.

"I'm curious. Seems the entire wizarding world figured you two would be in it for the long haul. Though, with my new insider information, I suppose it makes a lot more sense now." He winced as the words left his mouth, hoping Harry would not hear the unfortunate connotation and think that Draco was planning on selling him out to the Prophet.

Luckily Harry didn't seem to jump to that conclusion, only asking, "Now?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, now. Now that you have been having rather a lot of enthusiastic sex with me. A man. I'm guessing being gay wasn't great for your relationship."

"I'm not gay."

"Oh, Merlin, I thought you'd gotten over your hangups. I hate to burst your bubble, Harry, but—"

"I didn't mean it like that. Obviously I like blokes. But I like women, too. It's really more about the person for me. I don't think I much care about gender."

Draco let out a strained laugh. "Of course you don't." Salazar, it was like God was trying to outdo himself when he had created Harry Potter. It was bloody infuriating!

"Alright, you like both. So you must have truly cared for your Weasley, then?" Draco didn't know why he was hoping the answer would be no. It wasn't like they were together anymore. It was Draco who was in Harry's bed most nights.

"I did. I do." Harry sighed. "Do you really want to talk about this?"

"I do." Draco turned over on his side to face Harry, a flare of unexpected possessiveness rising in him at the sight of Harry's lean, naked body, barely covered by the sheets. There was a love bite on his collarbone, and the barest hint of several finger-shaped bruises forming on his hip. Draco felt savagely pleased with the marks, with the knowledge that Harry would go about his day tomorrow, talking to his various Weasley/Gryffindor friends all while carrying Draco's marks with no one being the wiser. "Only if you want."

"Yeah, it's fine. It might be nice, actually. I can't really talk to Ron and Hermione about it. I mean, she's Ron's sister, and Hermione's one of her best friends."

"So, talk." Draco trailed his fingers up the thick veins in Harry's arm, tracing patterns into his skin. He wanted to drag Harry down and see if they could go for round two, but his curiosity reined him in.

"I don't know, it's all sort of complicated, isn't it. I fell in love with her before the war, but then with me leaving, and not knowing if I'd survive...I called it off. She understood, but it hurt her more than I'd realised, being left behind like that." Draco nodded. He could see her point. He remembered her fire and determination. She hardly seemed like the type who'd take kindly to being coddled and protected like something fragile.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "we talked, after, and it wasn't the same. She was going back to Hogwarts, I was going into the Aurors, and we'd both been through so much. It didn't make sense to start something again. I mean, I love her." Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably at Potter's declaration. He steadfastly ignored it, focusing instead on the smoothness of Potter's skin beneath the pads of his fingers. "I think I'll always love her, and I know she loves me too, but the timing wasn't right. We decided that if we ever got back together again, that that would be it. It would the last time for us, and either we'd make it or we wouldn't. We both knew that if we got together after the war, it wouldn't have lasted—we both had too much we needed to work through. Neither of us wanted that to be our last chance. So we put a pin in it. If it's meant to be, then it'll happen."

"I see," Draco murmured, unsure of what to say after Potter's big speech.

"Yeah, it's weird, I know. Ron and 'Mione know we've split up, obviously, but they don't know about the rest of it. If they did, they'd constantly be scheming to try and get us back together. But if it's going to happen, it's got to be natural, you know? It's got to be because we both want it, because we're ready to commit."

"And you're not ready for that?"

"I don't know. I'm in bed with you, aren't I?" Harry flashed a grin at Draco, soft and fond, and Draco did his best to return it. He flicked one of Harry's nipples, and felt his smile grow real at the slight darkening of Harry's eyes. "It's not like I don't see Gin all the time. If either of us wanted more, it would be easy to take that step. Maybe it means something that it's been years and neither one of us has." Harry looked off into the distance, his expression pensive before he literally shook himself and turned back towards Draco. "But enough about me, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You've heard my entire pathetic dating history. What's your story? I could have sworn you were dating Parkinson at Hogwarts. Never thought you might be gay until I saw you and that bloke together at that pub last year."

"Ah yes, Pansy. She was rather taken with me in Hogwarts. Thankfully she's moved on since we left. She doesn't know about my….proclivities. As much as I care for her, I don't think she would take it well. I've always known I was gay, but you know how it is. There aren't all that many openly gay wizarding couples, and certainly not within the pure-blood families. It's all about maintaining the line and upholding the family name. My parents would disown me if they ever found out."

Harry looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Draco. But surely...I mean, your parents love you, I know they do. Your mother lied to Voldemort just to find out if you were alive during the final battle."

Draco shivered at the uncomfortable reminder. "Of course they wanted me alive. I'm the sole heir," Draco said bitterly. He sighed. "No, I'm not being fair. I know they love me, but being a Malfoy is about more than just love. It's about duty. It's one thing for me to keep a lover on the side to discreetly tend to my needs, all while I marry a woman and sire an heir. But it would be another thing entirely to forego a wife and children and live openly with another man. They could never abide by that. And frankly, I don't think the rest of the wizarding world could either. I have rather enough to be making up for, without adding homosexuality to the long list of my sins."

"Being gay isn't a sin!" Harry said hotly. Draco's heart warmed at the defense. He knew it wasn't only for him, but it was nice hearing it all the same. It made sense, of course, but Draco had never been sure if Harry's latent desires had perhaps been due to some internalised homophobia. He shouldn't have doubted.

"I know, Harry." His voice was soft, sad. He tried not to think about what his future held for him too often. It was better to live in the present and leave all of that for another day. "But you cannot tell me you don't know what I mean. I don't see you rushing off to tell your friends about your sexuality. Maybe you would, one day, if push came to shove. But I am willing to bet that your friends, progressive as they may be, have not escaped that prejudice entirely."

Harry frowned, but didn't deny it. "It doesn't necessarily have to be that way though, does it? We make our own futures. Nothing's set in stone."

"Maybe," Draco conceded. "We're still young. Who's to say what will happen. But when you think of your future, what do you see? Are you with a man? Or are you living with your wife and three kids in house with a white picket fence?" Draco knew what his future held. A miserable wife trapped with him in a dreary Manor, a single heir growing up under the shadow of the Malfoy name, shoulders bent under the weight of expectation and the sins of their ancestors.

"I'm not sure. I see all kinds of futures for myself." He paused, brows furrowed. "It's like this poem, or maybe it's a book….I'm not really sure, Hermione was going on about it last week...but it's like I'm in a tree, and I can see all of these different branches holding different possibilities for my life. But most of them are sort of foggy. I can't really quite make them out. And maybe in one of them I'm with some bloke, or I'm the Minister of Magic, or a world-renowned Potioneer, who knows?" Harry's hands gesticulated as he talked, mapping out the tree and its many branches, brimming with possibility. Draco wished he could see that tree, instead of the withered stump of his own future. "Out of all those futures, though, the one with Ginny's the clearest. But that could just be because she's the most familiar, the path most taken."

"You calling your ex-girlfriend a slag?" Draco teased, trying to lighten the mood. The thoughts of his future weighed heavily upon him, dragging him down into a sea of helplessness. He did not want to feel that way around Harry. Harry was light and air, the breeze on his face as he whipped through the skies on his broom. There was no room for the oppressive future here in the now.

"Oh fuck off." Harry pushed at his shoulder and Draco grabbed his hand, pulling him down until he was sprawled on top of Draco, naked and hot and oh-so-good.

"I would rather fuck you."

"That was a terrible line." Harry looked thrilled.

"It was, wasn't it? I'll have to make it up to you, then." Draco's hands slid along Harry's arse, pulling him in until he felt his growing hardness against his thigh.

Harry kissed him, and Draco tried to ignore how perfectly they slotted together, how his heart sped up when Harry's mouth opened up for him so sweetly. They were just fucking around. This was just a convenient arrangement, a holdover until they both came to their senses and moved on with their lives. Draco could not afford for it to be anything else.

Next Chapter on LJ
Tags: are you mine?, bottom!harry, era: epilogue compliant, era: post-hogwarts, fandom: harry potter, kink: anal sex, kink: blow jobs, kink: fingering, my fanfic, no repost, pairing: draco/harry, trope: friends with benefits

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