Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~2,000
Content/Warnings: established relationship, blow jobs, anal sex, bottom!draco
Summary: Draco thinks there are much more interesting things he could be doing instead of chores. Like Harry.
Notes: Happy half-birthday, sassy_cissa! <3 I wanted to write you something last year on your actual birthday, but time conspired against me! I know you're not overly fond of PWPs, but I hope this silly, sexy thing makes you smile. All the love, darling! ♥
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
"That's it!" Harry yelled, as he stumbled on a beautifully crafted leather shoe that had been left out in the middle of the living room. Growling in frustration, he cast his gaze about, taking in the tilting pile of Daily Prophet's, the thick layer of dust on every available surface, and the various bits of discarded clothing strewn about the room.
"What is it?" Draco asked. He leaned casually against the the frame separating the kitchen from the living room, his expression politely inquisitive.
"What it is, is that you haven't been doing your portion of the housework, and I'm getting bloody sick of it."
Draco's eyes went wide with faux-innocence. His mouth opened—no doubt to plead his case—but Harry didn't let him get that far. He knew that if he gave Draco an opportunity to speak, Harry wouldn't stand a chance. Harry always gave in when it came to Draco.
"No. No more excuses. When you gave up your house-elves to move in with me, you promised that you could handle helping me with the chores. You're suppose to be cleaning this room." He paused to gesture at the general state of disarray around them. "You've clearly not been doing it."
Draco bit his lip and nodded, expression contrite. "You're right. I'll do better."
"Yes, you will. Right now."
"What? But it'll take ages!"
"Yes, which is why you should start now." Harry knew he had to be firm. Draco was far too good at wiggling his way out of things. Harry didn't want to end up doing all of the cleaning for the rest of their lives.
"I'm in the middle of a potion, I couldn't possibly—"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Unless you've managed to speed up time in the last twenty minutes, you still have several hours before the next stage."
Draco sighed deeply. He had likely forgotten that Harry had been with him in the lab earlier and knew exactly what he was brewing. Harry might not be amazing with potions, but he was passable, and his abilities had greatly improved since he and Draco had started dating.
"Fine. Let me change out of these robes first."
"Alright, I'll be right here in this chair. Reading the paper. Waiting for you."
Draco grumbled at the not-so-subtle threat. He was gone for several minutes, but just when Harry was preparing himself to get up and haul Draco back, he appeared. Harry's mouth went dry.
He had removed the heavy, protective robes he wore when making potions. In their place was
a tight black shirt that emphasised the paleness of his skin and hair, and a pair of Harry's old, faded grey sweatpants. The sweats were a little too big on Draco, and they hung low on his hips. Harry's gaze was drawn to the strip of exposed skin, and the tempting jut of Draco's hip bones. The fabric draped and clung to the full curve of Draco's arse. Harry felt his cock begin to harden at the sight.
All he wanted to do was reach over and pull Draco to him. He wanted to rub his mouth along the sharp bones of Draco's hip and cup his hands around the globes of Draco's arse. The tiniest of smirks played at the edges of Draco's mouth, and Harry scowled and looked away. So, that was Draco's play. He wanted to distract Harry with sex so he could get out of cleaning. Well, it wasn't going to work.
Harry raised his brows expectantly, and Draco's smug expression wilted. His shifted on his feet, and the sweats settled a little lower on his hips, but Harry stayed firm. He only allowed himself the briefest of longing glances at the freshly exposed skin before gesturing at the dirty room.
Draco sighed dramatically and withdrew his wand. Theoretically, cleaning shouldn't be all that difficult for a wizard. Unfortunately, Draco was pants at domestic spells. It took him almost as long to do things with magic as it would have taken him by hand. Draco stomped around the room in a huff, muttering under his breath as his cheeks flushed in agitation. He looked rather adorable.
With a poorly executed flick of his wrist, the stack of Prophet's went flying, several scattering at Harry's feet. Harry tried not to laugh, but a burst of mirth bubbled forth. Draco glared as he stomped over. Harry felt a frisson of arousal lance through him—Draco was unfairly attractive when he was riled up. Draco's narrowed eyes turned calculating, and the arousal was tempered with a hint of apprehension as Draco kneeled before him.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked suspiciously. His cock had perked right up at Draco's new position on his knees before him. Harry knew he was in dangerous territory.
"I'm picking up the papers," Draco said sweetly. He made a show of straightening the messy pages, bending forward to display the long lines of his neck. Harry's cock strained at the fabric of his sleep pants. He knew it was pointless to hope Draco hadn't noticed.
"That's what you have a wand for, isn't it?"
"Oh, but I'm so bad at it. I thought it might be faster if I...got my hands dirty."
Harry gulped, his eyes caught on Draco's smoldering gaze.
Smooth hands crept up the side of Harry's legs, before brushing softly at the fabric near his groin. Harry wanted to groan, the touch almost exactly where he wanted it. Wait! No, he didn't want this. Not right now, at least. Draco was supposed to be cleaning. "What are—"
"There was some dust on your clothing. I thought it best to be...thorough."
"Ah, yes, good." Harry sounded embarrassingly breathless.
"But oh look! You've gone and gotten your pants all sticky." He gestured in mock sympathy at the spot of wetness Harry's leaking cock had left on the fabric of his sleep pants. "That won't do at all. Here let me help you with that."
Before Harry could even decide how to respond, Draco's hands were nudging Harry's hips up off the chair. Harry followed the tacit command instinctively. Draco quickly stripped off Harry's sleep pants, leaving him bare arse and rock hard on the sofa chair.
Draco smiled coyly up at Harry, as he leaned forward and puffed hot air against his cock. "I could help you with this as well, if you'd like."
Harry sighed in frustrated arousal. The game had been lost. He might as well enjoy himself.
"Go on then."
Draco smirked before opening his mouth and swallowing Harry down in a practised movement that never failed to make Harry's toes curl. Draco had always been indecently good at sucking cock. His mouth was hot and tight around Harry's throbbing shaft, and he knew exactly where to flick his tongue and when to increase the suction to drive Harry wild. Harry buried his hands in Draco's pale, silken hair and held on for the ride.
They had just fallen into a gloriously mind-numbing rhythm when Draco pulled away. Harry growled in frustration and made to pull Draco back down. Draco only flashed an impish smile and gracefully stood.
Harry opened his mouth—no doubt to say something impressively commanding—but Draco wriggled his hips, and the precariously perched sweatpants dropped to the floor. His shirt soon followed. Harry's throat went dry and croaky at the sight of Draco's pale, naked skin and impressively hard cock. It was almost at eye level, and Harry wondered if Draco was expecting him to return the favour. He normally quite enjoyed the activity, but if Draco wanted to get out of cleaning, he would have to do better than that.
Draco seemed to be following Harry's thoughts, because his coquettish grin only widened as stepped between Harry's spread legs. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. Despite his suspicion, Harry's eyes fluttered closed on instinct. He felt a smooth hand wrap around his erection, slick with oil. Harry's eyes shot open just in time to see Draco spin around, before he began to sink down on Harry's erection.
Harry cried out, the surprise of the sensation overwhelming him with pleasure. Draco was a furnace as he pressed down, engulfing the entirety of Harry with a beautiful, unrelenting grip. He was tight, but not as tight as Harry had been expecting for not having any prep. Draco was wetter, too, the passage slick with more than just the cursory pass of oil he'd slathered on Harry's cock.
"You planned this, didn't you?" Harry accused, comprehension dawning on him.
He could almost feel Draco's smug expression radiating off of him, but Draco didn't answer. Instead, he shifted on Harry's lap, bouncing up and down slightly with incremental shifts of his hips. It was maddening, the tiny tease of pleasure. Harry had enough of Draco running the show.
With a snarl, Harry's hands shot out, his arms wrapping around Draco's chest and stomach. Draco let out a tiny whoosh of breath, but Harry didn't give him time to comment. He held Draco steady, as he slowly pulled out, and then fucked back in. Hard.
Draco moaned, his head lolling back against Harry's shoulder, and Harry started into a fast, satisfying rhythm. Draco's skin was slick beneath Harry's hands, and the heady smell of him filled Harry's nostrils. It drove Harry on, making him fuck harder and deeper into Draco's willing body.
"Fuck, Harry," Draco gasped, after several minutes of the punishing pace. His breath was ragged. Harry shivered at the way his name sounded in Draco's fucked out voice.
Draco shuddered in response. Harry took pity on him and slid a hand down Draco's flat stomach to wrap around his cock. He throbbed in Harry's hand, and his arse rippled pleasurably around Harry. Harry picked up his speed, wanking Draco in time with his frantic thrusts.
His vision began to blur, and his muscles shook with the effort of maintaining their position, but he was too close to stop now. Harry's orgasm simmered just below his skin, on the verge of boiling over. In his arms, Draco tensed, his muscles locking as his cock pulsed ropes of come over Harry's fist.
It didn't take much longer for Harry to follow. He collapsed fully back into his chair as he came, pulling Draco with him and keeping his cock buried deep inside.
They stayed like that while Harry recovered. His panting breaths began to slow against Draco's naked back, and Draco wriggled on his lap.
"Would you mind letting me go?"
Harry tightened his arms for a moment, before releasing Draco entirely. They both groaned as Draco lifted himself off Harry's softening cock. Draco didn't lose a moment before scooping up his wand and casting a series of thorough cleaning charms on the both of them. Harry felt a pang of disappointment as Draco covered himself back up. Though he was still wearing those sexy sweatpants, so Harry didn't mind too much.
Harry did mind, however, when Draco gave him a quick kiss and started to walk out of the room.
"And where do you think you're going?"
Draco smiled innocently. "To work on my potion."
"I think you're forgetting something."
"Draco!" Draco's lips pushed into a pout. "I'm not so easily distracted."
"You seemed pretty distracted when your cock was in my arse."
Harry smiled. "Okay, fine, I was distracted. But only temporarily. You're not getting out of this." Draco slumped, dejectedly, and Harry couldn't help but relent, at least a little. "I'll help."
Draco perked up. He leaned over and kissed Harry enthusiastically. Harry grinned against his lips. Maybe he hadn't quite managed to teach Draco a lesson about fairly dividing housework, but if he got mind-blowing sex in exchange for helping Draco with his share of the work, well…
Harry could live with that.