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It wasn’t the worst way to be woken up, having his dick sucked. Especially when Harry Potter was doing the sucking. His mouth was warm and wet. His soft tongue cradled Draco’s shaft, his throat constricted over the head. Draco groaned and arched against the mattress, wrapping the downy comforter more tightly around his body as he wrapped his thighs more tightly around Harry’s head.
That was a mistake because Harry’s mouth left his dick and a head of black hair emerged from the blanket as Harry made his way up for air.
“Get back down there,” Draco croaked, his voice still warped from sleep. He couldn’t help but grin as he looked down at Harry’s face. The boy still took Draco’s breath away.
Harry dug his fingers into Draco’s waist, hurting him so, so well -- and maybe that’s why Draco tried bossing him around anyways, because Harry retaliated just like this every time.
“What about a thank you instead?” Harry growled in that way that set Draco’s blood boiling. He was so naturally dominant, he didn’t even have to try. At first, Draco tried to deny how much he liked it -- told himself he hated Potter’s ‘arrogance’ and ‘headstrongness’. But the truth was, nothing made his legs weaker or got his dick harder.
But he still pretended to be irked. Harry called it bratty. Draco called it self-preservation.
“This better not be my Christmas present.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “You don’t like blow jobs?”
“Oh, I like them all right.” Draco smirked as he ran his thumb over an unruly lock of hair that had fallen into Harry’s eyes. “But I expect a real present too.”
“You mean, a wrapped one?”
“With a bow and everything.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Harry’s grin was a bit too bright for comfort. “I’ve got you the perfect gift this year.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. He wanted to make a teasing remark, like, was it blue balls? Because that’s what Harry was really giving him at the moment with his half-arsed blow job. But he wasn’t sure if Harry would find it funny. Sometimes their senses of humour seriously clashed; it was something Draco was still learning to navigate. Being in a relationship with Harry was like dodging mines sometimes. Dangerous as fuck.
But so heart-stoppingly exciting that it was worth every second.
Harry’s fingers pressed harder against his skin, and tingles flooded Draco’s body. He was going to have bruises.
“And what is this perfect gift?”
Harry crawled higher up Draco’s body, his smooth skin sliding against Draco’s stomach and chest, until they were face to face. He leaned in and kissed Draco lightly. “You’ll see soon enough. Besides, what did you get me?”
Draco smirked. “Something you’ve wanted for a while now.”
Harry stilled, hovering over Draco with a serious, expectant look in his deep green eyes.
“Total, unhindered obedience,” Draco whispered.
Harry bit his lip. “Don’t even joke like that.”
“It’s not a joke.”
Draco’s heart beat hard as he watched the expression on Harry’s face as he realized Draco was serious. He knew why Harry didn’t believe him at first.
“You mean... in public?”
Draco nodded.
“God, Draco…” Harry breathed. “Like, tonight? At the Burrow?”
Bracing himself, Draco nodded. He had given this a lot of thought and he really did want it, too, but he was still nervous as hell.
“Do you even know how hot that is?”
Draco continued to nod.
Harry put his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and bit. It was glorious, dick-hardening pain.
“Draco…”
“Yes, sir?”
He knew that would elicit a groan.
“You’re going to be obedient to me… in front of all the Weasleys?”
The idea both prickled pleasurably and clawed angrily at Draco’s insides. It was a strangely erotic dichotomy. “What would you have me do?”
Harry placed slow, measured kisses along Draco’s throat and shoulder as he spoke. “I’ve thought about it a lot…” (Draco snorted) “Just little things. Nothing that would make the family too uncomfortable. Like, refilling my wine glass whenever you saw it get empty.” He sucked lightly on Draco’s skin, his lips soft but demanding. “Filling my plate when I ask for something from the table. Sitting next to me at all times.”
Draco groaned. “That sounds humiliating.”
“But it gets you hard.”
“Fuck yes it does.”
“Oh, and I didn’t tell you the best part yet.”
“You’re going to finish sucking my dick?”
Harry chuckled. “Well… yes, in a moment. But even better than that…”
“There’s something better?”
“You’ll be doing it all in your very own monogrammed Weasley jumper.”
Draco felt the blood leave his cock in the space of half a second. “You’re joking about that one.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Potter --”
“Oh! It’s Potter now, is it? Not sir? Not even Harry?”
“I can come up with plenty more colorful names for you, don’t worry. Especially if you really did get me a bloody jumper.”
Harry gave him a challenging look before rolling to the side, flinging the covers off them both, and getting out of bed. Draco spread his legs as he watched him, idly fingering the length of his half-hard dick. Harry was now crouching down and rummaging through his open wardrobe. He really did get him a bloody jumper. He pulled it out as triumphantly as if it was the Golden Snitch, brandishing it in Draco’s face as if to say, Aha! Take that!
“I’m not wearing that.”
It was hideous. A garish burgundy color with a golden D embroidered in the center of the chest and golden trim around the neck and wrists. There was no way he could smarten it up; Draco mentally raced through his tailored shirt collection but soon concluded he had nothing that would match that could go underneath.
“It’s a bit obviously Gryffindor, don’t you think?” he said when Harry jumped back on the bed, jumper in hand.
“That’s kind of the point.”
“You want me to wear Gryffindor colors to your Weasley Christmas party.”
Surprisingly, Harry’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I want you to be mine.”
Draco cursed his heart with all its insufferable beating and thumping.
“Will you…” Harry licked his bottom lip. “Will you put it on?”
“What, now?”
“Just so I can see it… You know, see if it fits properly and all.”
Draco wanted to tell him to fuck off, but his brain said echoed with ‘Yes, sir’ before he could stop it. He exhaled hard, ignored his burning face, and grabbed the jumper out of Harry’s hands with as much false-aggression as he could muster. He had to at least make it look like he was putting up a fight against this.
“It’s going to look stupid,” he spat.
He pulled it on.
“So?” Draco smoothed his hair back, lifted his chin. “What do you think?”
Harry stared at him for long moments. It was unnerving to see him so serious about something like a jumper, and an ugly jumper, at that. He sat with his knees spread, his cock laying stiffly, beautifully, between his thighs. Draco loved how unruly his pubic hair was, like the hair on his head; unkempt and wild, but sexy as hell and so fittingly Harry. Finally, Harry spoke and brought Draco’s mind back to the issue at hand. “Everyone’s going to be wearing one. Even I’ll have a jumper on. You won’t stand out, I promise.”
“Oh, I’ll stand out, trust me,” Draco muttered, trying not to sound bitter but failing a bit. He wasn’t really talking about the jumper. Thankfully, Harry ignored him.
“You’ll look just like everybody else. You’ll… belong.”
He hadn’t been expecting to hear that. His throat felt kind of tight.
“I want you to belong.” Harry’s hands found Draco’s body again, and Draco thanked him silently by arching into his touch. “Don’t you realize, you belong to me now? You belong to my family now.”
“Harry, stop.”
It was almost too much. He wanted Harry to just touch him, to stop talking to him like that. It was Christmas morning and Draco’s throat was getting tighter, and his eyes were getting itchy. Harry was in his bed, and a year ago he would never have even dared to hope for this. He never would have imagined this could be real. It was like waking up from a nightmare and realizing he could breathe again; or maybe he was dreaming, because this could only be the sweetest fantasy. So he needed Harry to keep squeezing him with his strong hands.
“Shut up, Potter.”
“Will you wear it?”
“I’ll wear the damn jumper.”
“I’m going to fuck you in it.”
Draco spread his legs further, letting Harry settle between them. “Just fuck me then.”
“I meant at the Burrow.”
A groan rumbled through him. “God, you’re going to make me regret this obedience thing.”
“You mean it’s not turning you on thinking about it?”
“Just the opposite. It’s too fucking hot, Potter.”
Harry grinned. “You mean, sir.” He canted his hips and Draco felt the blunt press of his cock edge between his cheeks. Harry’s hands snaked up underneath the jumper, his thumbs caressing every inch of Draco’s skin they found.
He wanted Harry’s cock in him.
“I thought you said later.”
“Or now.” Harry kissed him. “Now is good.”
Draco moaned against Harry’s lips. He reached up and grabbed Harry’s cheeks in both hands. “Fuck me. Please fuck me, sir.”
Harry growled. There was some fumbling with a jar of lube at hand on the nightstand.
“I want you now.”
Harry bit him again. He did that when he was in desperate need. His hips pushed forward again, pushing his cock slowly into Draco’s arse, inch by glorious inch. He had to reach down and spread more greasy lube onto both his cock and Draco’s hole, but soon he breached him fully.
Draco’s head fell back as Harry fucked him properly. It was almost uncomfortably hot in the jumper, his sweat building rapidly as the thrusts got deeper and faster. Harry’s hands against his skin were like twin furnaces, his puffs of breath against Draco’s neck like bursts of steam.
You belong to me now.
Draco felt wholly surrounded.
You belong to my family now.
He threaded his fingers into Harry’s hair, and squeezed.