Work Text:
Harry sat in the common room of their new dorms and watched as Neville brewed himself a cup of tea. It was nice, Harry thought, to have a table directly connected to the kitchens in their dorms. It had showed up around a month into the school year, and though no explanation had been given as to why, Harry thought it was a kind gesture. McGonagall had probably realised several eighth-year students were absent from most meals. That, or the house elves had complained about the constant visitations to the kitchens.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like the Great Hall. It was just that people had a tendency to stare. Especially at Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco, and Pansy. It didn’t seem to bother Ron or Hermione much, something Harry didn’t understand at all. He supposed it was a good thing, though, seeing as being eighth-year students hadn’t stripped them of their Prefect status and they had responsibilities to live up to. Though they hadn’t said as much, Harry had a sneaking suspicion the staring was less when he wasn’t around.
Ron stretched and yawned, rolling his neck and wincing a little at the stiffness in it. He closed the book he’d been reading and looked up at Harry.
“I’m off to dinner mate, sure you don’t want to join?”
Harry shrugged. “No, I’m alright here. Thanks.”
Ron nodded easily. “Yeah, alright. But if Hermione asks, I tried, alright? She keeps insisting you’re only making it worse by avoiding people.”
Harry smiled at Ron’s easy acceptance. “I mean, she’s probably not wrong,” Harry said. “I’m just not – I’m not ready to deal with it yet.”
Hermione wasn’t wrong, of course. The staring wasn’t a new thing to Harry, and it always died down eventually – when people had gotten their fill and remembered Harry really wasn’t that interesting. But he was still exhausted from the war, and the funerals, and the trials. He just wanted to go about his day without being observed every minute of every hour.
“Tell Hermione I said ‘hello’,” Harry said. He didn’t see her as much as he liked these days, between being in different classes and eating their meals in different places. She seemed to enjoy keeping busy with her studies and Prefect duties though, and Harry was greatly enjoying the peace and quiet of their dormitory.
“‘Course,” Ron said. “We’re on patrol after dinner, but we’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
Harry nodded and grabbed the book Ron left behind. He smiled to himself when he realised it wasn’t for revision like he’d originally thought. He ran his finger over the worn cover of Quidditch Through the Ages and flipped it open to a random page. He’d read it enough times by now that there was no need to start at a certain place, and just reading it brought him comfort. He supposed it was the same for Ron.
Harry had read a few pages when he became aware that Draco had entered the room. He knew, like he always did since they returned to school, because his heartbeat sped up and he felt a tingling at the back of his neck. It was clear he wasn’t the only one. Neville turned ever so slightly so his back was to the wall while he sipped his tea, Seamus grunted and woke from his nap, and Dean rubbed the back of his neck and turned around to nod at Draco.
Something weird was happening to Draco. It wasn’t something Harry was used to being concerned about. He’d spent most of sixth year sure that Draco was up to something, yes, but this was different. This was – something was off. Wrong. Harry had never in his life been scared of Draco. Not when Draco had him under Petrificus and stomped on his face, not when he saw the Dark Mark on his skin, not when he’d been bound at the Manor and Draco had met his eyes, recognition clear on his face. And yet, something about him had changed enough to make the hair rise on the back of Harry’s neck every time he entered a room. The feeling was only made stranger by the rush of arousal that usually came along with it.
Seamus yawned and blinked, stretching languidly, smiling at Dean. “Dinner?”
Dean smiled back and held his hand out to help Seamus off the sofa. That was another thing Harry had noticed happening: people seemed to react to Draco entering the room, though it seemed they were all unaware of it. Somehow, any room Draco entered usually ended up with fewer inhabitants than before. It was like there was a repelling charm on him, subtle enough that nobody noticed, but strong enough that they had the sudden desire to be elsewhere.
It only took a few minutes before Neville, Draco, Harry, and Pansy were the only ones left in the common room, which was how they had spent most meals in the months since the table showed up.
“I guess that’s our cue to eat,” Neville said, as Hannah and Lisa left the room.
Harry set his book down and walked over to the table. It would provide a full meal, but only if they were sitting down. Other than that, it was tea and snacks only. He’d tried, at first, to convince the table to provide him with a plate to take somewhere else. He hadn’t been particularly keen on sharing a meal with Draco and Pansy, and he suspected the feeling had been mutual. They’d shared a table for months now though, and it had become oddly – familiar. Comforting, in a way Harry didn’t know how to quantify.
“Did you get your Defence paper back?” Harry asked Pansy when she sat down. She rested her hands on the table, and Harry studied her long nails as she tapped them against the table a couple of times. They were a new colour again today, a pale purple that made her look softer than she really was. Harry had come to like her sharp edges, but it was a nice colour.
Pansy grinned. “I did, yeah. Professor Branch gave me an E.”
Harry beamed. “Congratulations Pans, that’s brilliant!”
Draco pulled his chair out and sat beside Pansy, and Harry felt his neck stiffen for a moment before relaxing. His reaction to Draco was always short-lived, but it was enough to make him certain that something was up. Himself, Pansy and Neville seemed to have the weakest reaction of everyone in the school and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because of the time they spent with him, or if they spent time with him in the first place because they were the only ones who managed. Harry had seen Hannah, Dean and Seamus plan on eating in the common room several times, after all. But they always seemed to change their minds at the last minute.
“I’ll never get over the two of you getting along,” Draco said, looking between Harry and Pansy. “I mean, it was one thing when you started using each other’s first names, but nicknames?”
Harry snorted. “What’s the matter Drake, feeling left out?”
Draco glared at Harry, but the amusement was clear in his eyes.
“No, Harrold, I most certainly am not.”
“I finished the Herbology notes, if you want them,” Neville said, sitting down in the chair beside Harry. The second he did, plates appeared in front of them all with dinner.
“That’s brilliant, Nev,” Harry said, smiling gratefully at him. Herbology wasn’t his strongest subject, and though he did alright on his own, Neville’s notes really helped him revise.
“I’d love them, thank you,” Pansy said, flashing Neville one of her rarer soft smiles. “I’m almost done with the Charms notes.”
“Potion’s notes are nearly done, too,” Draco said. “You don’t have to give me the Herbology notes before I’m done, but I would like to make an exchange if you’re amenable.”
Neville snorted. “Don’t be daft, Draco. We’ve only been studying together for the past several months – of course I’ll share my notes with you if you want them.”
Harry laughed. “You know Slytherins,” he offered, smiling at Neville. “Everything has to be a transaction.”
Neville smiled, looking at the people sitting across from him with an odd fondness Harry wasn’t used to seeing, or feeling for that matter.
“Nothing is ever free in this world, Neville,” Draco said, though he was smiling a little as he cut into his food.
“How come he gets to be Neville and I’m still Potter?” Harry asked, for probably the third time in as many weeks.
“You know what you have to do to make me change it,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
“I’ll stop calling you Malfoy when you stop calling me Potter,” Harry said. He tried for a determined looking face, but at this point, the argument over their names was getting to be ridiculous. At this point, he couldn’t quite manage it. Apparently, being friendly with Draco didn’t change Harry’s desire to win over him.
“See,” Draco said, grinning wide enough that Harry’s eyes caught on his teeth. There wasn’t anything special about them, really, but every time Draco pulled his lips back, Harry’s eyes were drawn to them. Harry had the unrelenting desire to drag his tongue across them. To taste Draco’s mouth, feel his lips against his own. It wasn’t an entirely new development, but the war being over had certainly given Harry more time to reflect on what his desire to snog his school-rival meant. And more time to imagine what might happen after such a kiss.
“Nothing’s free,” Draco continued. “I’ll call you by your given name anytime you like, but you have to go first.”
Harry shook his head. “Never going to happen, Malfoy.”
“You’re right,” Neville said, looking from Harry and Draco to Pansy. “Merlin, I can’t believe I didn’t notice before.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Of course, I’m always right,” she said, popping a cherry tomato in her mouth.
“Right about what?” Harry asked. When Pansy made no move to answer he looked at Draco, who was looking at Pansy with wide eyes.
“Malfoy, what’s she talking about?”
Draco blinked, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I’m guessing the fact that we’re both as stubborn as each other.”
Somehow, Harry didn’t think that was quite right, but he let it go in favour of his dinner.
Harry shared a room with Neville. Not officially, of course. Officially, Harry was with Ron and Neville was with Seamus. But it hadn’t taken long for everyone to figure out that while the teachers had assigned rooms, they weren’t there to check up on where people decided to sleep. So, Ron had moved in with Hermione, Seamus brought Dean into his room, and Neville had moved in with Harry. Harry was fairly sure Draco and Pansy shared a room, too, and he wondered if that meant there was something between them. He hoped not, partly because of his inexplicable desire to kiss Draco, but also because it was painfully obvious to him that Neville wanted to snog Pansy at least as much as Harry wanted to snog Draco.
“Are you sure you didn’t notice it today?” Harry asked when Neville returned from their bathroom in his pyjamas. “I mean, you turned around when he came into the room, so your back was to the wall.”
Neville shrugged. “I’ve never felt all that comfortable around Draco. I guess it’s just left-over alertness from when he was a massive git.”
Harry shook his head. “No, it’s something else. I’m sure of it.”
Neville raised an eyebrow at him and sat down on his bed, giving the plant on his bedside table an affectionate poke. “Are you sure it’s not just – you know, your, er, crush that’s making you a bit hyper-aware?”
Harry opened his mouth to argue that he didn’t have a crush, but – well, he did. A little bit.
“I – how did you know?” he asked instead, blinking at Neville who was too busy siphoning a thin stream of water into the plant’s pot to look back at him.
“Mate,” Neville said, ending the spell and turning back to Harry. “You’re always looking at him. And before, it was all hatefully intense, but now it’s just – intense. You’re always staring at his mouth, or his hands, or his, er, backside. And flirting. Merlin, Harry. It’s pretty obvious, really.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose that’s fair. But that’s not it. I mean, I get that I want to snog him. That bit makes sense to me, you know?”
Neville snorted. “If you say so.”
“Oh, let’s not pretend he’s not fit as fuck,” Harry said, waving his hand. “Even I’ve been able to see that for years and that was when I hated him.”
Neville smiled knowingly, and Harry rolled his eyes.
“Shut up,” he said, even though Neville hadn’t technically said anything.
“That’s not what I’m talking about though. There’s this feeling whenever he enters a room, you know? Like something in me tells me to be on guard. And I know you feel it too, because you react to it. I mean, take today. He walked into the common room and Seamus instantly woke up from his nap. Like his body was telling him it was no longer safe to relax.”
Neville tilted his head. “You think Draco’s dangerous? Because, I mean, I might have bought that a year ago, but you didn’t see him here last year. He wasn’t – he kept leaving food, did I tell you? Outside the Room of Requirement, before we figured out the passage to the Hogs Head. I was worried it was poisonous at first, or that someone would jump us the second I opened the door to get it, but he never told anyone where we were hiding.”
Harry blinked. Neville hadn’t told him that, but Harry found he wasn’t very surprised. Draco might have believed in Voldemort at some point, might have believed in the hatred he spewed. But Harry knew the boy he’d met in that bathroom didn’t believe it anymore. He’d been terrified for his mother, and for himself too, Harry supposed. He wasn’t doing what he did out of some misguided hatred, he was acting out of fear.
“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” Harry said. “I haven’t thought that since sixth year, really. I just – it’s like my body thinks he is. You really can’t feel it?”
Neville shrugged. “Not really, no.”
Harry continued to watch Draco. Because something was up with him. He was fairly sure Pansy knew what it was, but the chance of her spilling Draco’s secret to Harry was less than none. Even though Harry wouldn’t share whatever the secret was with anyone. He didn’t want to know what was going on so he could use it against Draco somehow, he just – he wanted to know. And Neville might have had a point that Harry’s desire to snog the man made him a little more aware, and a lot more motivated to find out what Draco was hiding; that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding something.
Harry made a mental list of the odd things he noticed. First, of course, were the weird reactions people had to him. Second was the fact that Malfoy literally never blushed anymore. Even when he was clearly embarrassed. Third was the fact his eyes seemed to change colour randomly. Most of the time they were the light grey Harry was used to. The colour they’d always been, but sometimes they looked a lot darker. Harry noticed the fourth thing when February came and brought with it a cold-spell so bad Harry swore he could see his breath even inside the castle. Draco never got cold. At first, he hadn’t been sure, because Draco was good at hiding it. He wore warmer clothes, and always had a scarf slung over his shoulders. But it was like he forgot he was supposed to be cold until someone else mentioned freezing, and then he’d shudder a little and wrap his scarf around his neck.
Harry started testing it out, pretending to be cold when it wasn’t or pretending that he was warm and taking his sweater off when really the common room was freezing. Draco always followed his lead, especially when they were the only ones in the room. Which they tended to be in the late evenings after people who didn’t suffer from nightmares and insomnia had gone to bed already.
Then there was also the fact that Draco didn’t seem to be hungry in a way that made sense. He used to have a sweet tooth. Harry remembered vividly the large packages of chocolates his mother would send him, and he remembered seeing Draco snacking on chocolates and Every Flavour Beans almost daily. Now though, Draco ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner in measured slow bites – and he never as much as touched food or snacks in-between. Harry had overheard him several times complaining to Pansy that he was hungry, but when Harry offered him a biscuit or a Chocolate Frog, he always declined.
“Where’s Neville and Pansy?” Harry asked, suppressing a shiver that he couldn’t quite tell if it came from fear or arousal. Draco had walked in just in time for lunch, but Pansy was nowhere to be seen. Which was odd, seeing as she was usually attached to Draco’s hip during the daytime.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Snogging, I’m pretty sure.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
Draco nodded. “Took them long enough, but yeah. Apparently, Neville asked her out this morning and things snowballed from there.”
Harry laughed. “Merlin, I sort of wanted to see that. Not the snogging mind, but the asking out.”
Malfoy dropped into the sofa beside Harry and snorted. “According to Pansy it was very sweet. I’m sure we’ll each be getting a full account this evening though.”
Harry hummed and turned on the sofa so he was facing Draco. He was sitting close, looking at Harry with a soft smile playing on his lips. And Merlin, if Neville worked up the guts, Harry could too, right? Of course, Neville was one of the bravest people Harry knew. But he was supposed to be the Chosen One, right? He could find the courage to make a move on Draco.
“Potter – are you alright?” Draco asked. “You’re staring.”
Harry was, he realised. He was staring at Draco’s lips. They looked soft. Brilliantly, perfectly kissable.
“I’m – yeah, I’m – I just…” Harry trailed off, losing his track of thought when Draco leaned in closer. It probably wasn’t even conscious, just mirroring the fact that Harry had been leaning, without his body pausing to ask his brain.
Draco tilted his head a little, prompting Harry to continue. But Harry was no good with words. He’d always done better with actions.
Slowly, he reached up and rested his hand on Draco’s neck. Draco’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make a move to back away or push Harry off, so Harry leaned in closer. When Draco closed his eyes and his lips fell open ever so slightly, Harry closed the distance and kissed him.
Draco responded immediately, tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair and kissing him back like their lives both depended on it. Harry groaned into the kiss and pushed closer. Draco’s skin was smooth and cool against his own, and Harry wanted to feel more of it. All of it.
Draco pushed until Harry was laying on his back on the sofa, his legs wrapped around Draco’s as they continued to kiss. Harry had been right – snogging Draco was magnificent. Draco broke the kiss only to kiss along Harry’s jaw to his ear, making Harry shiver when he felt hot air against his neck.
And then, Draco froze. It took Harry’s brain a second to catch up, but when he did, he unfurled his legs and looked at Draco, surprised by the look of panic on his face.
“Malfoy, what? Are you alright?”
Draco shook his head and climbed off Harry with such speed Harry’s fingers were still trying to reach out to him before he realised Draco was too far away.
“I have to go,” Draco said, picking his wand up from where it had fallen on the floor and moving away from Harry, which was terrible, because Harry wanted him closer.
“Malfoy, wait!” Harry said, but the door was already closing behind him. He scrambled to his feet and ran after Draco, catching up with him just as he ducked behind the tapestry hiding a shortcut to the dungeons. He grabbed Draco wrist but was only able to hold on to it for half a second before it was ripped from his grip. It had the desired effect though, Draco stopped trying to leave. Instead, he turned slowly, his eyes darker than their usual light grey.
“Let me go, Potter,” Draco said, as if Harry still held his wrist. As if Harry had the power to stop him.
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. He could hear his heart beating, and he wasn’t sure if the quickened pace was because of the short run or because of the look on Draco’s face.
“Potter,” Draco said, a note of warning in his voice, but Harry didn’t want to listen.
“Malfoy,” he said, taking a step closer. He reached out to touch Draco’s cheek, a silent question. He only got halfway through the action before Draco grabbed his wrists and pushed him up against the wall.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath with the surprise of it and had to forcibly stop himself from letting the air escape him again on a moan. Only in his wildest dreams had he let himself imagine how good it would feel to be pinned to a wall by Draco Malfoy, but fuck – it was more brilliant than anything his brain had managed to come up with.
Harry closed his eyes and relaxed in Draco’s grip. He breathed deeply and waited to be kissed. When nothing happened, he blinked his eyes open again and met Draco’s gaze. He looked – intense. No word Harry knew quite fit, like Draco was somewhere between desire and terror. His eyes were even darker now, and he stared at Harry like there was nothing else in the world. Like Harry was the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him.
“Malfoy, what?” Harry asked, flexing his hands in Draco’s grip. Not to get out, but to get Draco’s attention somehow.
“Don’t move,” Draco bit out through clenched teeth.
“I – alright,” Harry said, because whatever this was, whatever was up with Draco, he clearly needed Harry to agree.
Draco closed his eyes, but otherwise stayed completely still. So still, Harry couldn’t be sure he was breathing at all. But it was hard to focus on Draco when Harry’s body was screaming so loudly for attention. He realised something was going on, but his body only realised it was pinned against a wall by the bloke he’d wanted to snog for months, probably years if he was fully honest with himself. Harry’s breaths were shaky, and he could feel every nerve in his body stand on high alert. His cock was hardening rapidly against his jeans, and it almost hurt not to shift his hips ever so slightly and push it up against Draco.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Draco said without opening his eyes. “It’s just – I need you to stay very still so I can make sure I don’t. If I let you go and you run…”
“I won’t run,” Harry said, because that much had to be obvious by now. “But don’t let go anyways.”
Draco’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Harry with shocked surprise.
Harry bit his lip and met Draco’s eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady. It was futile though, as Draco’s expression slowly morphed from shock to intrigue. Harry felt as if Draco’s eyes were pinning him to the spot just as much as his hands were, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through his body at the feeling.
“You’re not afraid,” Draco said. A statement, not a question. Harry still shook his head.
“Merlin save us, that’s so much worse,” Draco said. He closed his eyes again and lowered his head to Harry’s shoulder. His grip on Harry’s wrists didn’t loosen.
“Malfoy,” Harry said, more breath than voice. He could smell Draco now, and he inhaled his lavender shampoo with every breath he took. It was driving him mad. He was going to lose his mind in this fucking corridor if Draco didn’t kiss him or let him go. Something had to give. But nothing did. Draco held his wrists, hid his face in Harry’s chest and just – stayed there.
Harry’s entire body was on fire. His breathing hitched and the feeling of his increasingly hard cock pressing against the seam of his jeans was becoming painfully uncomfortable. And he had to move. Just a little. Just a small shift of his hips so he didn’t implode with the intensity of standing so close to Draco and doing nothing. He rolled his hips and couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in a slight whine when movement did nothing to alleviate his want.
Something had to give, and Draco was clearly too caught up in whatever was happening to him that he couldn’t. So, Harry would.
“Draco, please – I…”
Draco’s fingers tightened on Harry’s wrists, and Harry held his breath for a few seconds, waiting. Nothing more happened though, and he exhaled again.
“Are you a Veela?” Harry asked, because he had to be. The overwhelming desire Harry felt just standing there wasn’t normal. It wasn’t – he didn’t know his body had the capacity to want something as much as he wanted Draco to press closer.
Draco released a humourless laugh. “No, Potter. I’m not a Veela. Veela hunt by making their prey want them. My kind – we blend in and use brute force.”
It was the closest Draco had gotten to admitting something. That something really was up. And suddenly it was painfully clear. Draco hadn’t been cursed, hadn’t come into some ancient creature inheritance. Draco had been turned. Harry hadn’t even considered it because vampires were supposed to elicit feelings of disgust and distrust. And well, the distrust hadn’t been new to Harry – and it had disappeared over the past few months. And he'd never felt disgust. A thrill of fear, yes – but Harry didn’t mind fear. Not in the slightest.
“Oh God,” Harry said, horrified when the words came out as something close to a moan. Merlin, that was – fuck. He imagined tilting his head to the side, exposing the most vulnerable part of his body and letting Draco put his mouth there. Put his teeth there. He shivered again. He wanted it. He wanted it more than he’d ever thought to want anything before.
“Finally realised, did you?” Draco asked. He lifted his head and stepped as far away from Harry as he could without letting go of his wrists. “Just give me a moment to collect myself, and I’ll let you go.”
Harry shook his head. “Don’t. Fuck, Draco, I know you’re having some sort of crisis right now, but do you seriously still think what I’m feeling right now is anything but mind-blowing fucking arousal?”
Harry tugged at his wrists. He’d tried doing it Draco’s way, tried being still and patient. But Draco’s way wasn’t working, and Harry had always been a fan of jumping in with both feet.
“Harry,” Draco said, shaking his head in bewilderment. “You’re not supposed to. I’m a predator.”
“I know what you are,” Harry said, “It’s hot. Merlin, everything about you is hot.”
Draco shook his head. “I don’t know how to let you go. I shouldn’t have waited so long – I should have – but I had it under control, I thought I did and then you… I need to let you go and go get my potion.” Draco’s hands flexed but didn’t let go.
Harry smiled. “If it’s some sort of blood replacement potion, you don’t need it.”
“I do,” Draco said. “Because when I’m hungry, it’s overwhelming. And especially when I’m – when you… Merlin I can’t think. Your heart is beating so loudly.”
“I’m not saying don’t feed,” Harry said, forcing himself to make the words slow and clear. To make his very real desire shine through. “I’m saying don’t use a potion. Use me.”
Draco’s eyes went wide and finally his body seemed to relent a little because his fingers loosened around Harry’s wrists, and he shivered.
“Don’t say that. You don’t know how much I want it. How much I want everything from you. I don’t trust myself not to hurt you.”
“I don’t care,” Harry said. “I want it. Hurt me.”
Draco didn’t move or speak, but he didn’t argue either so Harry tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. A show of submission.
“Please, Draco.”
Draco made a sound deep in his throat and then he was stepping closer, pressing his body against Harry’s and kissing him.
Harry melted into the kiss and couldn’t hold back the groan when Draco’s thigh finally brushed against his straining erection. He pushed back against him, vibrating with want. Draco released Harry’s hands, and Harry let them drop. They tingled with being raised for so long, but Harry didn’t care. He grabbed Draco’s hips and pulled them closer, moaning into the kiss when he felt Draco’s erection against his belly.
The sound of footsteps made them both freeze, and the sudden realisation that they were still in the corridor hit Harry like ice. A secret corridor, yes, but not so secret people wouldn’t be walking by them at any moment. Whoever it was walked past the tapestry, and Harry huffed a relieved laugh.
“We need a room with a door that locks.”
Draco nodded, though he didn’t let go of Harry. They locked eyes for long seconds before Draco shook himself. “This way.”
He took Harry’s hand in his and set off down the passageway at a rapid pace. Harry let himself be pulled; aware they were heading to the dungeons where he wasn’t all that familiar. Draco would find them a room though. Harry wasn’t picky; as long as it had walls and a door, everything would be fine. As long as Draco put his hands back on Harry, his lips.
The empty classroom Draco pulled them into smelled musty and unused, which, in Harry’s opinion, was absolutely perfect. He cast a charm on the door to lock it and added a silencing charm for good measure. If Draco did what Harry wanted him to, he suspected he’d need one.
Draco wrapped himself around Harry from behind, using one hand to hold Harry to his chest while the other tangled in his hair and pulled. Harry gasped and tilted his head, heart beating loudly in his ears with anticipation.
“Do it,” Harry managed through the thrumming in his ears. He pushed his arse back against Draco, revelling in the feeling of his desire.
Draco’s lips hit his skin first, closer to his shoulder than his neck. He seemed to hesitate, but either he trusted that Harry knew what he wanted, or desire overcame him, because moments later Harry felt sharp teeth dragging against his skin. Everything about Draco seemed to tense, the hand across Harry’s chest tightened enough that he had to fight to breathe and fuck, he loved that, too. Loved how the hand in his hair pulled harder and sent thrills of pleasure-pain down his spine, loved how completely he was at Draco’s mercy.
Draco bit down and Harry released a hoarse shout as he buckled in Draco’s grip. It hurt, and it was still the best thing Harry had ever experienced. Draco was in him, needed him in the most basic, raw way. And the pain only fuelled the devastating want coursing through Harry.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, reaching back and grabbing hold of Draco’s shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. He was going to float away in a haze of want and pain and desperate desire, only Draco’s tight hold keeping him grounded. Draco opened his mouth and Harry whimpered at the feeling of it. Wet heat pooled over the wound for a moment, then ran down the length of his collar bone.
Harry wanted a mirror, wanted to watch as blood created a path down his body. He’d never much liked looking in the mirror, but he knew instinctively that seeing this – seeing Draco want him like this – it would be impossible not to feel beautiful.
Draco licked over the bite on Harry’s neck and spun him around so abruptly Harry lost his balance. He didn’t need it, though, because Draco held him, shifting his grip so he was holding Harry by the hips. He leaned down to where the trail of blood disappeared into Harry’s shirt and licked it, a deep groan escaping him.
Harry shivered and put his hands in Draco’s hair. He ran his fingers through the soft strands and let his head fall back as Draco followed the line of blood with his tongue, licking Harry clean.
“Merlin, you’ll be the death of me,” Draco mumbled, lips moving against Harry’s skin.
Harry thought the feeling was very much mutual. Or at least that it would be if Draco stopped.
“I’m never going to get enough of this,” Draco said. “Of you. Fuck, Harry.”
“Please,” Harry said, the word almost a sob as it left his lips. He let go of Draco’s hair and reached down his body. His jeans had a wet-spot on them from how long he’d been hard and leaking, and the feeling of his hand, even though two layers of clothes, made Harry want to cry with relief.
Draco slapped his hand away and replaced it with his own, cupping Harry’s erection in a firm grip. “I touch you now. You’re mine.”
“Fuck yes,” Harry gasped, jerking his hips into Draco’s hand.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Draco said, giving Harry one last squeeze and letting go. “I’m going to fuck you against a wall while blood trickles down your body, and then I’m going to lick it all off you.”
Draco gripped the neck of Harry’s t-shirt and pulled, ripping it open in one smooth motion. Harry briefly thought it was good it was one of Dudley’s old cast offs before he was distracted by Draco walking him backwards against the closest wall.
The stone was cold against his bare skin, but Harry was so overheated he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. He reached between them and managed to get his jeans open. He pushed them down and almost sobbed in relief when his cock sprang free. Draco sank to his knees to pull the jeans further down and paused to lick at Harry’s hip. His teeth scraped ever so lightly over where Harry’s thigh met his hip and Harry shivered.
“Please,” Harry managed, hips bucking against Draco. “Do it again.”
Draco’s teeth dragged across Harry’s thigh, not so much biting as cutting, and Harry sagged against the wall with a groan. He could tell it wasn’t deep, but it was enough to sting as Draco ran his tongue over it. Harry wanted more, wanted it all over. Draco followed an errant drop of blood down Harry’s thigh with his tongue, then scraped his teeth over the inside of Harry’s thigh.
“Fuck,” Harry gasped. He grabbed Draco’s hair and pulled him closer, groaning as the wet heat of his tongue teased over his skin.
Draco stood, and Harry let his fingers slip from his hair. His lips were red, blood smeared on the edges of them. And Harry wanted to taste it too, wanted to share everything. He pulled Draco in for a kiss and felt the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He thrust his hips and clung to Draco, feeling impossibly turned on at the taste of his own blood. It wasn’t that it tasted good, but it felt forbidden and intimate in a way that sent his mind reeling.
Draco broke the kiss and grabbed Harry’s hips firmly, spinning him around fast enough that Harry had to place his hands on the wall to keep his balance. He smiled to himself, loving how Draco manhandled him into whatever position he wanted.
“Stay,” Draco said. Harry nodded and held back a whine when Draco stepped back from him. Moments later though, Draco was back against his back – cool skin pressed against Harry’s. His cock pressed into Harry’s lower back, and Harry pushed back, desperate for more.
“You’re so fucking into this, aren’t you?” Draco said, running his hands down Harry’s back. “I bet you’d let me feed on you whenever I liked. I bet you’d let me bite and lick and devour you all day.”
Harry nodded, fingers scraping against the stone wall. He would. He’d let Draco use him as a walking blood bank, would let him tilt his head down during lunch for a snack in front of everyone. He didn’t care that he wasn’t supposed to want this, that he wasn’t supposed to want Draco. He did, and now that he had it, he wanted it constantly.
Draco shifted and got to his knees again, his fingers massaging Harry’s arse. He held Harry open and whispered a cleaning charm before licking over Harry’s opening. Harry groaned and pushed back, but Draco didn’t stay. He moved so he was kissing down Harry’s arse cheek to his thigh. He moved his hands to hold Harry’s hips tight, and that was all the warning Harry got before Draco bit him hard. Harry released a dry sob as his body jerked involuntarily at the sharp pain. His cock was leaking between his legs, and it took everything Harry had not to reach down and jerk himself off. He was so close.
Draco’s lips were tightly closed over Harry’s skin, and without releasing Harry’s skin from between his teeth, he sucked. Harry groaned and jerked all over again. Finally, Draco pulled off, replacing his mouth with his hand. Harry felt the bite bleed, but Draco’s hand kept the blood from running down his leg.
Harry felt wet heat at the point where his lower back met his arse and groaned. He tried to look over his shoulder and when he couldn’t, closed his eyes and relied on feel. And it felt like Draco had filled his mouth with Harry’s blood and was now letting it drip out and run down the crack of his arse. Harry shivered and spread his legs wider, trying to give Draco better access as he started licking the blood up again. His tongue moving broad and determined over Harry’s opening.
“Look,” Draco said, holding his hand out so Harry could see it wet and dripping with blood. His blood. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
Harry nodded, because it was. It was wrong and gross, and so fucking beautiful. All at once.
Draco’s hand disappeared from Harry’s line of sight, but he could feel Draco moving it, tracing a line down Harry’s lower back and to his arse. He held his fingers pressed against Harry’s entrance for a brief moment and then pushed two of them into him. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed, and he tried desperately to hold on to the wall as he realised that Draco was fucking him open, using his own blood as lube. Fuck, it was hotter than anything he ever could have come up with on his own.
The stretch hurt, but that at least was something Harry had become familiar with after exploring in the shower. He liked the feel of the stretch, and he pushed back on Draco’s fingers, pulling them deeper into his body.
“Desperate for it, aren’t you?” Draco said, giving a gentle nip to Harry’s arse cheek.
Harry groaned. “Yes! I am, please, will you just – gah.” He broke off when Draco added a third finger. He fucked them into Harry hard, twisting them and searching until pleasure shot through Harry as they brushed against his prostate.
“Give me your wrist,” Draco said, not letting up on the rhythm he’d set with his fingers.
“I won’t – I can’t hold myself up,” Harry admitted. His legs were already shaking with the effort, and he knew there was no way he’d be able to hold himself up with just one hand on the wall. Not when Draco was so thoroughly taking him apart.
Draco started pulling his fingers out, and Harry clenched around them, desperate to keep them inside.
Draco tutted. “Patience, Potter.”
“Harry,” Harry said.
Draco stood, his full length pressed to Harry’s back, and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry, pulling him back from the wall. He pressed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and inhaled deeply, but didn’t bite him again.
“Harry,” Draco amended. “Are you alright?”
“I will be, once you fuck me,” Harry said, pressing back against Draco.
Draco turned Harry around and guided him back a step until his back hit the wall. Harry let his body rest against it and met Draco’s eyes.
Draco seemed to consider him for a moment and then nodded. He took Harry’s left hand and held it up to his face, licking over the pulse-point on Harry’s wrist. Harry watched in rapt fascination as Draco’s canines lengthened into sharp points, and he shivered when he felt them brush against his skin. Draco held his eyes as he closed his mouth around Harry’s wrist, teeth pressed to the sensitive skin there. Harry felt his eyes flutter with desire, but he forced them to stay open. He wanted to see.
Whatever Draco was searching for in Harry’s face he seemed to find, because he bit down again. Gentler than he’d done on Harry’s thigh, but still hard enough that Harry felt his teeth pierce his skin. It sent another wave of pleasure-pain coursing through him, and Harry bit his lip and inhaled sharply. He reached between his legs with his right hand and gripped his cock. Not to jerk off, but just to release a fraction of the pressure building in him.
Draco pulled his mouth off Harry’s wrist and Harry watched, fascinated as blood started seeping from the bite there. Draco released Harry’s wrist entirely and let Harry bring it closer to his face to inspect it. Blood started dripping down his forearm and Harry had to resist the urge to stay looking at it for hours. It was fascinating and hot, but he wanted Draco more. He lowered his wrist instead, letting gravity pull the blood into his hand. After a moment, he met Draco’s eyes and reached out, closing his now wet fingers around Draco’s cock.
Draco groaned and threw his head back, thrusting gently into Harry’s hand as he slicked his cock with blood. Draco kissed Harry before he turned him around again. He lifted Harry’s right forearm to rest against the wall.
“Lean your head on that,” he said, “and spread your legs.”
Harry did, and found he could keep his balance like this, even without his left hand.
“Stay like this,” Draco said. “I’ll help hold you up in a moment.”
Harry nodded, realising his breath was coming in fast huffs against his arm.
Draco twisted Harry’s left arm around, pinning it to his lower back. Harry felt the blood drip from his fingers down his arse and shivered at the sensation.
Draco left one hand holding Harry’s arm in place, and used the other to hold him open as much as he could before pressing the head of his cock against Harry’s entrance. He paused there, breathing deeply, and Harry made a noise of impatience.
“Now, Draco,” Harry demanded, pressing back as much as he could.
Draco pushed to meet him, and finally his cock slipped inside Harry. It was a stretch even after the fingers, and Harry spread his legs and pushed his arse out, revelling in the sensation of being stretched around a cock. Draco seemed to lose his patience the second he was inside Harry because he pushed in hard and bottomed out in seconds, making them both groan.
Draco moved the hand on Harry’s arm to wrap around Harry’s chest, trapping Harry’s bleeding wrist between them. He used his other hand to brace against the wall before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in.
Harry cursed and bit into the arm he was resting his head against, trying to contain all the want and pleasure and pain somehow, trying to remain in some sort of control. Except, as Draco pulled back and pushed in again while scraping his teeth over the back of Harry’s shoulder, Harry realised he didn’t want the control. He wanted the sensations, the overwhelming everything. And he wanted Draco. He wanted to let go. And for the first time in his life, he could, because Draco was holding him so tightly. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. Draco had his pain, his pleasure, his body. All Harry had to do was relax and let him hold on to his mind, as well. He just needed – something, a final push. Needed Draco to take the control from him.
“Tighter,” Harry gasped, pressing desperately back against Draco. “Hold me tighter.”
Draco’s arm tightened across Harry’s chest, and Harry felt his heaving chest being restricted on the final part of his inhale – and he let go. His body went almost slack against Draco’s, trusting that he’d be held upright even as his legs buckled under the force of Draco’s thrusts. He leaned his head back, letting it rest on Draco’s shoulder and clenched around him, sobbing with need as his cock leaked a steady stream of precome. Harry’s wrist throbbed between them, and he could feel hot, sticky blood on his back and his thighs, could feel the friction as Draco fucked him hard with only his blood slicking the way. It was all-consuming, and Harry let it take him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Draco said, his breath sharp but even as he held them both up and fucked into Harry. “So tight and hot and delicious, just for me.”
“For you,” Harry agreed, resting his free arm on the one Draco had braced against the wall. “Please.”
He didn’t know what he was asking for, but he didn’t have to. Draco knew. Draco was in him and around him, and Harry knew without a doubt the man would give him what he needed, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what that was yet.
“Come for me, Harry,” Draco said, tightening his arm around Harry. “Fuck, I want to taste that, too.”
Harry shivered and tried to meet Draco’s thrusts, but at some point, Draco had lifted him up on his tip-toes and he couldn’t find purchase to do anything but take what Draco was giving. He was teetering on the edge, pleasure building in his belly and pulsating, threatening to burst and consume everything with just a final push. His neglected cock begged for attention, but Harry didn’t move his hand to touch himself. Draco had him. Draco would get it.
“I know you can come like this,” Draco said, his arm tightening even further. Harry’s head was swimming now. He was still getting air, but the arm across his chest prevented the deep breaths his body craved. He was floating on a haze of sensations, and as much as Harry wanted to please Draco by coming like he’d said, he never wanted to come down. He never, ever, wanted it to end.
“Now,” Draco murmured, digging his teeth into Harry’s shoulder and loosening his grip at the same time. Harry’s chest expanded as he sucked in a sharp gasp of air. Pain pulsated out from his shoulder as oxygen rushed to his brain and Harry buckled in Draco’s grip as the tightly-wound ball of pleasure in his gut exploded. Harry came with a shout, shaking in Draco’s hold as come spurted from his cock and onto the wall in front of him. He clenched around Draco’s cock and felt his thrusts grow irregular, though they never lost any of their force.
Utterly spent, Harry went limp against Draco, shivering with aftershocks of pleasure as Draco continued to fuck into him. “Don’t stop,” he managed, just in case Draco had the crazy idea to do so.
Draco sucked on the fresh bite on Harry’s shoulder and groaned deeply. Harry had no idea how they were still upright, how his weight hadn’t pulled them both to the floor. Draco had to be a lot stronger than he looked to be able to hold him like this and still fuck him so thoroughly. It made excitement rush through him when he thought of what else they could do. The positions Draco could hold him in as he fucked Harry’s brains out.
Draco came with a deep moan, briefly tightening his hold on Harry again. Harry listened as he summoned his wand and cast something that made the floor underneath Harry’s feet feel soft and warm. He couldn’t quite remember taking his shoes off, and upon closer inspection only the one was missing. The other one was still on his foot, with his jeans and trousers wrapped around the ankle. Both had spots of blood on them, and Harry shivered at the sight.
Gently, Draco lowered Harry to the now carpeted floor. He took the wrist he’d bitten in his hand and started licking it clean, then cast a healing charm on it and moved on to the one on Harry’s left shoulder. He licked and kissed and sucked Harry’s skin until it was perfectly clean, healed the bites on his neck and shoulder and started licking his way down Harry’s abdomen. Harry let himself float, not sure if the thrum of pleasure in his veins was the afterglow of his recent orgasm or new arousal, and not sure it mattered.
Draco sucked Harry’s half hard cock into his mouth and hummed around it, and Harry’s hips gave a feeble jerk. Merlin, that felt good. He was sated and overstimulated, but he wanted. And Draco seemed to understand, holding Harry’s hips tightly and sucking hard, bobbing his head up and down on Harry’s cock.
“I – oh fuck, Draco,” Harry said, spreading his legs and groaning when the bite on the back of his thigh rubbed against the rug. Draco was sucking any remaining thoughts right out of Harry’s head, and he gasped and thrust up into the wet heat of his mouth.
Draco ran his hands down Harry’s thighs, scratching lightly as he did so, and Harry felt his toes curl with an impending orgasm. His cock was fully hard again, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Draco – a smear of blood on his cheek, sucking Harry’s cock down like he’d never had anything better in his mouth. It was too much, too good, and Harry wasn’t going to last. Couldn’t last, with how overstimulated he was. Even Draco’s soft, hot mouth almost hurt as he ran his tongue over the slit of Harry’s cock and moaned at the taste he found there.
“Draco, I’m –,” Harry said, trying and failing to reach out and tug Draco’s hair. His arms were too uncoordinated, but it didn’t matter. Draco clearly got the idea, because he doubled down, taking Harry’s cock deep into his throat. He released Harry’s hips and reached between his legs, sliding two fingers back into Harry. Harry buckled his hips and threw his head back as he came for a second time. Draco pulled back far enough to catch Harry’s come in his mouth, his tongue playing around the head of Harry’s cock as it emptied itself for the second time.
“Fuck, that was – I just, wow,” Harry said once he could breathe again and thought his voice would work.
“Perks of not really having to breathe,” Draco said, grinning up at Harry and licking the shallower bite he’d left behind on Harry’s thigh.
“Not that one,” Harry said, and Draco immediately pulled back.
Harry shook his head. “No – I mean, don’t heal it. Wanna keep it.”
Draco chuckled. “I wasn’t trying to. I’m cleaning you up.”
Harry nodded, his eyelids heavy. “I know, but I’m about to fall asleep. Didn’t want to wake up to it gone.”
“You’re not supposed to be able to sleep in my presence, you know?” Draco said, lips brushing against the skin on Harry’s thigh as he spoke. “You need to develop better self-preservation instincts.”
Harry shook his head but didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Not if having bad ones lets me have this, I don’t.”
Draco rolled off him, and Harry opened one eye to look at him. He didn’t want Draco to go.
Draco walked over to the cabinet on the wall behind them and pulled out a vial. Harry properly looked around for the first time and realised they were in an old Potions classroom.
“Snape used to brew in here sometimes,” Draco said, walking back to Harry and uncorking the vial. “Drink this.”
Harry opened his mouth and let Draco pour the potion into his mouth. He grimaced at the bitter taste he associated with blood-replenishing potions and rolled his eyes.
“That was probably a waste of a potion,” he said, swallowing to get the taste from his mouth. “I didn’t really lose that much blood.”
Draco looked at the empty vial. “Yeah, you really need better self-preservation instincts. You just drank that without even knowing what it was?”
Harry shrugged. “My instincts are fine. I just trust you.”
Draco smiled and cast a cleaning charm on Harry. He felt the stickiness on his back and in his arse disappear and relaxed against the soft carpet. “It’s not a waste of a potion. I want to do this again, and then again, and again. And I can’t very well keep biting you if you’re anaemic.”
Harry grinned. He very much wanted that, too. “Let’s find a better tasting recipe then,” he said, yawning and letting his eyes close again.
Half asleep, he listened as Draco healed the bites and bruises he’d left before pressing his lips gently to the one Harry had asked him to leave unhealed. Draco whispered a Temperatus spell and conjured a blanket, throwing it over Harry before laying down next to him and holding him tight.
Harry smiled, already excited to wake up and do it all over again.