Christmas Drabbles Part Twenty
Dec. 25th, 2008 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrules"Boys," I said. "On the couch, quick and dirty, get this drabble series finished." *crickets chirping* "Boys?"
Why don't they ever listen? Um... this might be over by New Year's. LOL!
Before Malfoy could think of more reasons to protest, Harry decided to curtain the speaking altogether by locking his lips over Malfoy’s once more.
Malfoy did not push him away. Instead his hands slid around to Harry’s back and began their caressing motions once more, this time travelling up and down Harry’s spine. It nearly distracted him from the incredible movements of Malfoy’s tongue playing against his own, stroking deliciously until Harry thought he might combust from within.
He allowed his own hands to move over Malfoy, first touching shoulders and arms, and then sliding lower to caress pectorals and ribs. It wasn’t enough. Even the thin silk of Malfoy’s shirt was a maddening barrier. Harry stopped kissing long enough to tug lightly at the shirt, loosening it from the waistband even as his eyes silently asked permission. His breath caught at Malfoy’s nod, and the he pulled the material free. He continued the motion, dragging it up and over Malfoy’s head. He let the shirt float to the ground, forgotten, as his eyes drank in the newly bared flesh.
Malfoy’s hands were limp, resting on either side of his platinum hair in a pose of casual relaxation, but Harry read tension in every line of his body. Harry smiled encouragingly and reached out to take both wrists gently in hand. He traced light circles over Malfoy’s pulse points with his thumbs for a few moments and then drew his thumbs down over Malfoy’s smooth forearms, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. He was vaguely gratified to note no sign of a Dark Mark and gave brief thanks that Malfoy had been spared that, at least. Harry had killed Voldemort in time to prevent marring Malfoy’s beautiful skin.
Harry’s fingers traced over the velvety soft flesh where Malfoy’s arms bent, earning an intake of breath, and then he continued the movement down over taut chest muscles. His questing fingers ghosted over Malfoy’s nipples and then touched them again, feeling the stiff nubs with a rush of adrenaline. He could scarcely believe the blond was allowing him to touch…
“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy asked, but his voice had an uneven quality Harry had never heard before.
“Touching every bit of you that I can,” Harry replied.
Malfoy looked at him with a guarded expression. “No one… No one ever did that before.”
“Hmmm, well I have two words to describe them,” Harry said. At Malfoy’s puzzled look, Harry continued, “Fucking idiots.”
That earned him a smile that warmed him even more than the feel of Malfoy’s skin under his palms. He left off playing with Malfoy’s nipples, although the slight quiver that rippled thought the blond made him want to keep doing so, possibly for hours. Instead he splayed his hands over Malfoy’s abdomen while shifting slightly, drawing his legs up until he sat with his thighs cradling Malfoy’s arse, and both of Malfoy’s legs spread on either side of his hips. If he dared to shift forward a bit, their erections would be touching—and Malfoy definitely had one of those, thankfully straining against his trousers, seemingly as hard as Harry’s.
His hands moved lower, petting down the fine hairs on Malfoy’s stomach and tracing a circle around the dip of his navel. And then lower still…
Malfoy swallowed hard as Harry touched the waistband of his trousers and halted over the fastenings, once again asking wordless permission. Malfoy’s pink tongue flicked out and then disappeared as he nodded. Harry felt both elated and slightly terrified as he screwed up his courage and began to free Draco’s straining cock.
The buttons were quickly undone, exposing black silk that bulged in a fascinating manner. Harry tentatively touched it, caressing it with his fingertips. Malfoy jerked and Harry lifted his gaze from Malfoy’s crotch in order to gauge the expression in his eyes. Fuck, the silver had gone nearly black and Malfoy’s lips were parted in a beautiful O. Harry stared at him in rapt wonder, thinking he might have been the most tantalizing sight Harry had ever seen.
He stroked again, dragging his fingers from tip to base and back again. Malfoy’s back arched and he groaned. “Harry,” he murmured. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced but it was also not nearly enough. He left off stroking Malfoy only long enough to drag the blond's trousers completely off, pausing only long enough to yank at Malfoy’s shiny black boots and toss them somewhere past the couch. When Malfoy’s legs were bare, Harry could not resist touching the newly exposed flesh, sliding his hands over ankles, calves, knees, and thighs.
His hands rose high on Malfoy’s thighs and slipped beneath the black silk to tuck into the soft curls surrounding Malfoy’s hardness, and then nearer still, until his fingertips brushed…
Malfoy’s hands suddenly curled around his wrists, gripping tightly. “I want to see you,” he said hoarsely.
I didn't really mean to stop it here, but I'm sort of tired and going to bed now. *runs away and hides under the covers* More tomorrow, though!
Part Twenty One
Part One
Why don't they ever listen? Um... this might be over by New Year's. LOL!
Before Malfoy could think of more reasons to protest, Harry decided to curtain the speaking altogether by locking his lips over Malfoy’s once more.
Malfoy did not push him away. Instead his hands slid around to Harry’s back and began their caressing motions once more, this time travelling up and down Harry’s spine. It nearly distracted him from the incredible movements of Malfoy’s tongue playing against his own, stroking deliciously until Harry thought he might combust from within.
He allowed his own hands to move over Malfoy, first touching shoulders and arms, and then sliding lower to caress pectorals and ribs. It wasn’t enough. Even the thin silk of Malfoy’s shirt was a maddening barrier. Harry stopped kissing long enough to tug lightly at the shirt, loosening it from the waistband even as his eyes silently asked permission. His breath caught at Malfoy’s nod, and the he pulled the material free. He continued the motion, dragging it up and over Malfoy’s head. He let the shirt float to the ground, forgotten, as his eyes drank in the newly bared flesh.
Malfoy’s hands were limp, resting on either side of his platinum hair in a pose of casual relaxation, but Harry read tension in every line of his body. Harry smiled encouragingly and reached out to take both wrists gently in hand. He traced light circles over Malfoy’s pulse points with his thumbs for a few moments and then drew his thumbs down over Malfoy’s smooth forearms, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. He was vaguely gratified to note no sign of a Dark Mark and gave brief thanks that Malfoy had been spared that, at least. Harry had killed Voldemort in time to prevent marring Malfoy’s beautiful skin.
Harry’s fingers traced over the velvety soft flesh where Malfoy’s arms bent, earning an intake of breath, and then he continued the movement down over taut chest muscles. His questing fingers ghosted over Malfoy’s nipples and then touched them again, feeling the stiff nubs with a rush of adrenaline. He could scarcely believe the blond was allowing him to touch…
“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy asked, but his voice had an uneven quality Harry had never heard before.
“Touching every bit of you that I can,” Harry replied.
Malfoy looked at him with a guarded expression. “No one… No one ever did that before.”
“Hmmm, well I have two words to describe them,” Harry said. At Malfoy’s puzzled look, Harry continued, “Fucking idiots.”
That earned him a smile that warmed him even more than the feel of Malfoy’s skin under his palms. He left off playing with Malfoy’s nipples, although the slight quiver that rippled thought the blond made him want to keep doing so, possibly for hours. Instead he splayed his hands over Malfoy’s abdomen while shifting slightly, drawing his legs up until he sat with his thighs cradling Malfoy’s arse, and both of Malfoy’s legs spread on either side of his hips. If he dared to shift forward a bit, their erections would be touching—and Malfoy definitely had one of those, thankfully straining against his trousers, seemingly as hard as Harry’s.
His hands moved lower, petting down the fine hairs on Malfoy’s stomach and tracing a circle around the dip of his navel. And then lower still…
Malfoy swallowed hard as Harry touched the waistband of his trousers and halted over the fastenings, once again asking wordless permission. Malfoy’s pink tongue flicked out and then disappeared as he nodded. Harry felt both elated and slightly terrified as he screwed up his courage and began to free Draco’s straining cock.
The buttons were quickly undone, exposing black silk that bulged in a fascinating manner. Harry tentatively touched it, caressing it with his fingertips. Malfoy jerked and Harry lifted his gaze from Malfoy’s crotch in order to gauge the expression in his eyes. Fuck, the silver had gone nearly black and Malfoy’s lips were parted in a beautiful O. Harry stared at him in rapt wonder, thinking he might have been the most tantalizing sight Harry had ever seen.
He stroked again, dragging his fingers from tip to base and back again. Malfoy’s back arched and he groaned. “Harry,” he murmured. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced but it was also not nearly enough. He left off stroking Malfoy only long enough to drag the blond's trousers completely off, pausing only long enough to yank at Malfoy’s shiny black boots and toss them somewhere past the couch. When Malfoy’s legs were bare, Harry could not resist touching the newly exposed flesh, sliding his hands over ankles, calves, knees, and thighs.
His hands rose high on Malfoy’s thighs and slipped beneath the black silk to tuck into the soft curls surrounding Malfoy’s hardness, and then nearer still, until his fingertips brushed…
Malfoy’s hands suddenly curled around his wrists, gripping tightly. “I want to see you,” he said hoarsely.
I didn't really mean to stop it here, but I'm sort of tired and going to bed now. *runs away and hides under the covers* More tomorrow, though!
Part Twenty One
Part One
