Paradigm Chapter Three

[dysonrules]

YAY for my awesome beta who got this finished today! Send items of appreciation to byaghro !

Miss the beginning?  Start here:  Paradigm Chapter One

Potter was insane.

It was the only explanation. Five thousand Galleons! That would pay Draco’s expenses for a year. He would be an absolute fool to turn it down and Potter knew it. Draco set his jaw angrily. Fuck.

“All right, Potter. Tomorrow night. I expect dinner first, so I will meet you here and you will escort me to a place of my choosing. Try not to dress like an idiot. Or an Auror .”

Potter nodded soberly.



Draco spent most of the day cursing Potter and his overwhelming stupidity. Five thousand Galleons. What the hell was he thinking? If Potter’s intent was nothing more than an elaborate setup, Draco would at least make him jump through every hoop imaginable. He planned to extract his pound of flesh from Potter before the hammer fell.

He met Potter at the designated spot and was reluctantly impressed to find the Auror dressed in well-tailored robes of soft-looking cream. The collar stood up stiffly and made Potter’s hair look blacker than midnight. He offered Draco his arm with a sheepish grin . Draco wanted to gnaw his lip with nervousness , but he merely took Potter’s arm and Apparated them to a very expensive restaurant in wizarding Dover. Potter had combed his hair well over the famous scar, likely hoping to hide it and remain anonymous. Draco was willing to play along—outwardly.

They ordered dinner and Potter tried to make small talk. Now that he had made the inevitable decision to sleep with Potter, Draco found himself evaluating the man with new eyes. The hero was almost ridiculously fit. Even with his stupid hair and his stupid scar and his stupid ability to make Draco feel like a blight on the face of the earth.Well, Potter’s smile was very nice and lit up like a Lumos across the table. Why shouldn’t he be happy? Draco thought sardonically. He finally got his way, as usual. The hero wins. Once again he had bested Draco, although this time it was with cold, hard cash and a ludicrous amount of persistence.

The meal was exquisite but Draco could manage no more than a few bites. He was hellishly nervous and the terror grew exponentially with every moment. His hour of reckoning was at hand. He pushed his plate away, despite the knowledge that dragging out the meal would prolong his impending execution.

“Are you all right?” Potter asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Draco nodded and gulped his wine to fight nausea. He would get through this. Somehow . Potter bit his lip and looked worried as he studied Draco’s face. Draco stared at him and found the expression strangely enchanting . Even though he expected Potter’s offer to be part of an elaborate scheme, he did not think the Auror had enough acting skill to pull off his current attitude.

“Do you want to… go for a walk or something? Get some fresh air?” Potter offered.

Draco felt almost ridiculously grateful and he scowled to cover it as he shoved his chair back. “Whatever you want, Potter. I’ll be outside.”

He did not wait for the Auror, but fled for the street where he leaned against the wall and drank in deep breaths of the cool night air. It was beginning to rain. Potter appeared after paying the bill and he seemed almost surprised to see Draco waiting . The Auror cast a quick Umbrella Charm and motioned for Draco to precede him. Draco walked down the damp street and Potter fell into step beside him.

“You seem different than usual,” Potter noted aloud .

Draco attempted a smirk and failed miserably. “How so, Potter?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen you with your other clients and you are always so polished and confident. Tonight you seem… out of sorts. Is it because you’re with me?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s because I’m with you, Potter. With my other clients there are no hidden agendas. I know exactly what they want and I give it to them. I have no idea what you want.”

“I want the same thing they want, Malfoy. How can I convince you of that?”

Draco shook his head and then Potter grabbed his arm to halt him before pushing him against the wall, but gently . Potter leaned in and his face loomed closer. Oh Merlin, he means to kiss me, Draco thought with a frisson of panic . He turned his head at the last moment and Potter’s lips grazed his cheek.

Draco hissed . “No kissing, Potter. Don’t you know anything about whores?”

Potter did not pause, but allowed his lips to travel over Draco’s jaw to his ear.

“All right. No kissing on the lips,” Potter said. “But everywhere else is fair game, right ?” Draco felt soft kisses pressed into his throat. Potter’s hands slid over his chest and ribs before clenching in the material of Draco’s shirt. “Bloody hell, I want you so much .”

Draco found it hard to breathe. He tried to dredge up his rentboy personae, but it was difficult to concentrate with his pulse racing.

“Do you prefer your place or mine?” Potter asked, moving closer, trapping Draco against the wall with his body and giving him no doubt whatsoever that the Auror was aroused.

“Yours,” Draco decided impulsively. “You know where I live. Apparently you have been inside.” He could not resist the dig at Potter’s less than ethical behaviour, although he supposed Potter was not particularly concerned about his virtue if he was willing to seek out and hire Draco for a one-off.

Potter’s lips halted on Draco’s neck, but he recovered quickly. “Fair enough.”

Before Draco could suggest a different course of action, he felt the lurch of Apparition and staggered slightly when the wall no longer supported his back. Potter’s arms slid around him and held him up . Draco felt a new sort of panic as he looked around and took in Potter’s domain . It suddenly seemed like a grave error to put himself in the lion’s den where everything was unfamiliar. Draco’s need for control began to scream like a banshee . Potter’s lips fastened onto his neck once more and his hands moved over him possessively.

“You feel so good, so incredibly good. Merlin, I want you to suck me off ,” Potter said huskily.

Draco was nearly paralyzed for a moment. Suck him off? Potter drew back and looked at him quizzically, probably wondering why Draco had stopped breathing .

“Malfoy?”

Draco shook off his stasis and tried to get a grip on himself. He needed to regain his wits or he might as well Apparate straight to Azkaban and ask them to lock him up.

“All right, Potter,” he said and swallowed hard. He forced his hands to move and they crawled as slowly as possible over the soft cream coloured robes and down to Potter’s waistband. He tugged on the metal buckle and listened to the clicks as each circle slipped across the silver bar . Potter’s breathing sounded ragged in Draco’s ear and the Auror’s hands stilled on his shoulders . Draco loosened the belt completely and then waited as long as he dared before moving his fingers to the buttons that would free Potter’s hard length from its confinement.

The buttons were stubborn, forcing Draco to finesse them though the holes while his knuckles dragged over Potter’s erection, earning a gasp for every touch. Draco hoped the Auror would come without the necessity of doing what he requested . When the trousers were fully unfastened, Draco loosened them and allowed them to fall. They slid to Potter’s knees with a whisper of sound.

Draco dared not look at Potter’s face—or anything else. He kept his eyes closed and his mind fixed on the task at hand, holding his breath as he tucked two fingers into the waistband of Potter’s pants. He pulled the material out and then pushed it down, freeing Potter’s erection before he reluctantly opened his eyes. Draco’s gaze fixated on it immediately and his eyes widened as he took in Potter’s glory.  Bloody hell, did the bastard have to be better at everything? It was totally fucking unfair.

Potter’s cock was perfection. It was smooth and straight and beautiful, possibly longer and definitely thicker than Draco’s. It seemed suddenly enormous, considering what Potter wanted him to do.

“Is something wrong?” Potter asked, snapping Draco’s gaze upward. He met the Auror’s eyes without thinking and was surprised at the expression on Potter’s face. It was uncertain and almost nervous, and so foreign to Draco’s experience of Potter that he soaked it in for a moment in bemusement. Potter was nervous? He felt the fingers tighten on his shoulders and forced a smile.

“No, Potter. Nothing is wrong.” For some reason, seeing Potter less than confident steadied him somewhat. Without thinking too hard about the action, Draco slowly lowered himself to his knees. Salazar help me, he thought fervently as he opened his mouth and tasted Potter’s cock. The moan that issued from the Auror’s throat helped. Draco moved his lips lower, taking the length of Potter as deeply as he could manage—which wasn’t far before his gag reflex kicked in.

He pulled back abruptly and accidentally dragged his teeth over Potter’s cock with the movement .

“Fuck, Malfoy!” Potter cried and his hand jerked in Draco’s hair.

“Sorry,” Draco said and flushed scarlet . He felt completely out of his element. If he could not get a grip on himself and pass himself off as an experienced professional, the game was up. The last thing he needed was Potter finding out he had been Obliviating his clients and casting Memory Charms to make them think they’d had the best sex of their lives. In truth, Draco had never had sex with any of them. He received endless enjoyment from the knowledge that he was a virgin, despite thousands of Galleons in his account testifying to the contrary. He had been tempted a few times, but feared the complication of becoming involved with one of his clients in that way. What if he enjoyed it? Or worse, what if he became emotionally invested, or even more foolishly fell in love?

Now, however, his lack of actual experience could be his undoing.

“Maybe it’s not the best idea to tempt you into unmanning me ,” Potter murmured and tugged Draco to his feet by judiciously pulling his hair. Draco winced. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Draco’s moment of relief at the cessation of the blow job turned into a block of lead in the pit of his stomach. Bedroom. His virginity was about to be sacrificed, one way or another, to Harry Potter. The irony was not lost on him.

Potter toed off his shoes and left his trouser’s and pants in a heap on the floor. His hand looped over Draco’s and pulled him down a short hallway to a predominantly burgundy bedroom. It was not quite Gryffindor red, but doubtless comforted the Auror with the similarity. The lights, which had come on automatically, were too bright. Potter dimmed them with a word and then turned to Draco.

“How do you normally do this?” Potter asked, sounding somewhat uncertain. “Do you undress or should I…?”

“Whatever you prefer, Potter. It’s your Knut .” Draco was gratified to find that his voice was steady, giving no sign that Potter’s words had shaken him.

“Then I… I want to do it,” Potter said. Draco felt a flash of relief . He was afraid his hands would shake obscenely if he tried to unfasten his clothing .

Potter turned toward him and Draco tried not to notice the way Potter’s perfect cock jutted from beneath the still-buttoned, pale robes. Potter’s hands reached up to Draco’s collar and began to push the tiny black buttons through the holes. There were quite a lot of them and Draco was surprised to find his nervousness turning into impatience . Even so, Potter maintained his slow pace until Draco’s robes gaped open and then he slid them gently over Draco’s shoulders. He expected Potter to allow them to drop to the floor, but the Auror lifted them away and folded them carefully before placing them on a corner of the bed .

He turned back to Draco and smiled ruefully before starting on the lacing that held Draco’s shirt together. “It’s sort of like unwrapping a present, isn’t it?” Potter murmured .

Draco wished he could think of a witty comeback, but his mental facilities seemed to have locked up the minute his focus had narrowed to Potter’s long fingers.


~~*~~


Harry waited for Malfoy to speak, but for once the blond had nothing to say. In fact, Malfoy had been oddly out of character all evening. He seemed nervous to the point of terror.  At first Harry had thought it to be an act, but now he was not so certain. He tugged the shirt gently over Malfoy’s head, slowly revealing the perfect abdomen, smooth chest, and long, muscular arms. The silk turned Malfoy’s platinum hair into a halo of static and Harry smiled as he folded the shirt and placed it atop Malfoy’s robes. He reached up to smooth down the erratic strands and met Malfoy’s eyes for a moment. They reminded him of the huge, terrified eyes of a wild creature. Why was he so nervous? Certainly he had done this dozens, probably hundreds, of times? Was Malfoy really expecting Harry to spring some elaborate trap?

He put his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders and allowed his thumbs to trace over the hollows between chest and shoulder muscles before sweeping over the frail-seeming collarbones. Harry’s fingers curved around the back of Malfoy’s neck and his thumbs caressed the line of his throat before moving over the straight jaw line. Fuck, but he was beautiful. The mere act of touching him was better than any of the fantasies Harry’s fevered mind had concocted recently. He wished he could kiss the lips that were currently stretched into a thin line. Instead he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the tip of Malfoy’s nose.

“Don’t,” Malfoy breathed and Harry pulled back to find the grey eyes shuttered. A flush was faintly visible, covering Malfoy’s cheeks. Harry was glad he had only dimmed the lights and not dispelled them completely. He wanted to watch every nuance of expression.

“You said kissing was permitted everywhere but your lips,” Harry replied quietly.

A scowl wrinkled Malfoy’s brow and Harry was almost relieved at the return of a more familiar expression. The quiet Malfoy had been making him somewhat nervous. The blond huffed a breath that wafted over Harry’s face in a flutter of warmth that made him want to lean forward and taste the flavours hinted at by the scent—spice and wine and something richer. He wondered how much Malfoy would charge for a kiss .

“Fine, Potter. If you must indulge your odd kinks …”

“Nose kissing is hardly a kink. Besides, you have a very kissable nose.” He placed another on the tip and then followed the bridge of Malfoy’s nose up to the crease that had formed between the grey eyes. Harry kissed Malfoy’s patrician brow and stopped at one temple to feel Malfoy’s heartbeat thudding against his lips. It was slower than Harry had expected, given the blond’s apparent nervousness.

His hands left Malfoy’s neck and slid down over the pale chest, pausing briefly to circle Malfoy’s nipples with his thumbs. They were hard nubs, probably due more to the chill of the room than excitement. Malfoy’s skin already felt cool to the touch. Harry suspected he wanted nothing more than for Harry to finish so that he could escape, but Harry had no intention of rushing. For the price he had paid, he intended to take his bloody sweet time and savour every moment .

He moved his hands lower, amazed at the hard, flat plane of Malfoy’s abdomen. He wondered how the blond kept so fit given his current occupation . The question was irrelevant; nothing mattered at the moment except the feel of Malfoy beneath his hands . Harry’s fingers tucked into the waistband of Malfoy’s trousers—a tight fit, but worth the pinch as he pulled Malfoy’s pelvis against him. His erection pressed into Malfoy’s groin and he drew in a breath when he realized Malfoy was not at all aroused. Shit. He supposed he should not have been surprised considering how strangely nervous Malfoy had been acting, but it was a bit disappointing. He had hoped the blond would feel something in response to Harry’s obvious desire .

He quelled his disappointment with a surge of determination. He quickly unfastened Malfoy’s trousers and pushed them down gently, followed by the pants. His hands followed the material all the way down the long legs and held them open while Malfoy removed his feet. Harry kept his eyes fixed on his task until he straightened and folded the trousers to place them with the rest of Malfoy’s clothes. He did the same with the dark boxers and only then allowed himself to look at Malfoy. His gaze travelled from the slender feet up over calves and thighs until they stopped where the blond curls cradled Malfoy’s nice—very nice—cock. Harry tore at the buttons of his own clothing, suddenly impatient. He did not quite dare to meet Malfoy’s eyes, uncertain what expression he would find there. Embarrassment? Disdain?

He finished ripping at his shirt buttons and yanked the material over his head before tossing it haphazardly aside. He risked a glance at Malfoy’s face and saw nothing there; his visage might have been carved from marble. Harry sighed. At least there was no sneer. He moved forward again and slowly dropped to his knees in front of the blond. Without considering his actions for more than a moment , he pressed his lips fully against Malfoy’s cock. Thank Merlin, he thought when he felt it twitch beneath his lips—it felt like satin. He opened his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over the soft flesh while his hands rose to touch the underside. His fingertips moved over the vein that stretched and grew into a hard ridge as Malfoy’s length thickened and rose.

Harry risked a glance upward and swallowed hard at the sight of Malfoy’s transfixed stare. Unacknowledged tension loosened its tight grip somewhere in Harry’s gut and he relaxed slightly. That was the reaction he had been hoping for. He nearly gasped as the pads of Malfoy’s ice-cold fingers touched his shoulder—to steady him? Encouraged, Harry moved to take Malfoy’s hardness completely into his mouth while keeping his eyes locked on Malfoy’s dark orbs. Merlin, he never imagined sucking another man’s cock would be so thrilling. Then again, Malfoy was not simply “another man”; he had been Harry’s obsession long before fascination had turned into lust.

He turned his attention to the task at hand, suddenly determined to make the blond forget everyone that had come before. Harry wanted to wipe out the memory of every other man—and woman—that had dared to touch Draco Malfoy. He closed his eyes and took Malfoy as deep as he could bear, earning a soft cry for his effort and the minute tightening of fingers on his shoulder. Yes, like that, he thought . Fuck, the feel of Malfoy’s curls against his face and the scent of soap, cologne, and something heady and distinctly Malfoy—it was brilliant. Harry sucked eagerly and longed to touch his own dripping cock, but the night was young. He kept his hands on the blond, fondling the taut testicles and touching every bit of skin within reach. Mine, he thought suddenly. At least for tonight, you’re all mine.


~~*~~


Draco stared when Potter dropped to his knees. He barely suppressed a cry of shock when warm lips touched his previously-uninterested cock. Bloody fucking hell! A yearning surge shuddered through him and he felt his prick stir with sudden interest as Potter’s tongue trailed over the top while warm fingers explored the underside.

The emerald eyes rose suddenly and locked with his. It was difficult to breathe as a sense of unreality assailed him. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Savior of the Wizarding World, the Vanquisher of Voldemort was sucking his cock. Draco’s knees threatened to give way, so he put out a hand to steady himself. His fingertips pressed into Potter’s shoulder as lightly as possible. It was like touching a hot cauldron; the Auror was a bloody furnace.

Potter finally looked away, breaking the intense gaze, and Draco thankfully closed his eyes. The heat of Potter’s mouth took him in completely and Draco bit down on a moan. A soft cry escaped and it seemed to inflame Potter, who redoubled his effort. Draco had no idea if the Auror was experienced or not—all he knew was that it felt incredible. He gave up coherent thought in favour of savouring every flick of Potter’s tongue and every brush of his fingers. It was hot and wet and utterly delightful. Merlin, surely Potter would stop soon? He would stop and laugh and Draco would have to Crucio him.

But Potter did not stop. Draco’s fingers twined in the thick black hair, urging him on, but taking care not to distract the Auror by tugging . Potter’s hair was surprisingly soft considering it looked like a home for sparrows most of the time. He barely had time to register the random thought before Potter’s brilliant mouth eradicated coherency. Oh Merlin, he was going to… oh yes, yes, fuck, he was…

Draco nearly bit through his bottom lip to suppress a shout as he came explosively—straight down the throat of the Ministry’s Paragon of Virtue. Shudders careened through him, seeming to go on forever. Potter’s mouth stayed fixed in place until Draco thought he might collapse from the aftermath of such a spectacular release, and then the Auror pulled away to plant a kiss against Draco’s abdomen. It was a strangely tender gesture and it disturbed Draco more than it should have. His fingers were wrapped tightly in Potter’s thick hair and he noted the Auror’s arms twined around his hips, holding him tightly. Potter’s cheek rested over Draco’s navel and he said, “I think I need a thicker carpet.”

Draco stared down at him and Potter glanced up with a grin. His lips were red and his green eyes seemed ridiculously bright, probably because he had shed his spectacles somewhere along the way. He looked strange without them, but far more handsome than Draco would have expected. He decided he was merely feeling euphoric after the sterling blow job.

“You do this often enough to warrant a new carpet ?” Draco asked dryly and then thought about cutting out his own tongue. What did he care if Potter gave out blow jobs seven days a week?

“No, but I might consider taking it up as a hobby,” Potter replied .

A flare of something—not jealousy—flashed through Draco and he scowled. “I’m sure the recipients of your talent will be more than pleased.” He shut his eyes tightly after issuing the bitter-sounding statement. Note for future reference: do not speak after orgasm. At. All. Ever. He detached his hands from Potter’s hair with effort. The strands seemed to want to keep him in place.

“Only one recipient,” Potter said as he got to his feet. “For as long I can afford you.”

Draco ignored that, but he could not suppress the flush that crept into his cheeks. He could only hope it was lost in the colour already present from their activities. Potter tugged at his hand, drawing him toward the bed. Draco felt almost languid enough that the movement did not panic him. Almost.

He allowed the Auror to ease him onto the bed after dragging back the thick blankets. The sheets were cold against Draco’s heated skin and he shivered slightly. Potter noticed and crawled over him to lay his molten form over Draco like a Warming Charm. Potter’s erection dug into his groin, but it was not unpleasant. Hot lips nibbled at his neck until he thought he might bear the mark forever.

“Don’t mar the merchandise, Potter,” Draco muttered and then gasped when teeth replaced the soft lips and bit down gently. The bite loosened before it became painful.

“All right, Malfoy,” Potter said and kissed the tender spot gently. His lips moved as he muttered a spell and then Draco felt cold wetness encircle his nether opening, assisted by Potter’s fingers. His tension returned like a slap in the face. “Hey,” Potter murmured in a soothing tone. “Hey, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you . I promise. Um… you can top if you prefer.”

Fuck. Yes, of course he would prefer, but he sure as hell could not admit that fact to Potter. For all he knew, Potter might have been shagged a thousand times. Draco knew it was far better to lie back and take it than expose his dreadful lack of experience. He swallowed and forced himself to relax.

“It’s fine, Potter. Your Knut, remember?”

Potter scowled and his lips drew into a thin line. “Yes, I remember.” With that, Potter inserted a finger—none too gently. Draco could not suppress a gasp.

“Salazar, perhaps you should withhold your promises, Potter!”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I thought you would be…”

Used to it? Draco’s lip curled sardonically, but he nodded. “I normally top, so it’s been some time,” he said lamely.

“I’ll be more careful,” Potter said.

Draco called upon every iota of self-control he had ever possessed. Luckily, there were many years of memories to call upon. Not surprisingly, sitting through an agonizing meal with a room full of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort had been excellent preparation for remaining still under anal penetration by the Vanquisher of said Dark Lord. It was painful and terrifying and altogether too intense for comfort .

Only when Potter was fully sheathed did Draco realize the Auror was shaking nearly as badly. Sweat covered them both and Draco almost laughed, wondering if it could possibly be worth the effort.

“Merlin,” Potter said. “Bloody hell, you’re so incredibly tight. You’re amazing. I need… oh, I need to move, but I’m afraid I’ll lose it.”

“That’s sort of the point, isn’t it, Potter?” Draco asked and was somewhat surprised to manage a dry tone.

Potter chuckled. “I suppose. I just want this to be… memorable.”

“I assure you I will never forget it .”

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” Potter said, underscoring Draco’s heartfelt words. Should he live to be two hundred, he would never lose the image of Harry Potter hovering over him like a dark angel, black hair tipped in a halo from the dim lighting, glistening with sweat and gazing down at him with an expression Draco had never seen on anyone’s face before. If he had been a bigger fool, he would have sworn it was adoration.

Before Draco could formulate a response to Potter’s words, the Auror moved in earnest, sending a completely new wave of unpleasant sensation tearing through his insides. He thanked Merlin he did not actually do this for a living because he would rather marry some old, rich, grotesquely fat acquaintance of his mother’s. Several of them had, in fact, asked for that very thing once the Malfoys’ financial state had become common knowledge.

After a few strokes he was at the point of screaming at Potter to hurry the fuck up already, and then something changed. Draco’s eyes widened and he jolted upward with a gasp, nearly cracking the Auror in the forehead with the unexpected motion.

“What the hell was that?” Draco asked.

“What?” Potter countered intelligently. He looked dazed and Draco realized he had been lost in a Draco-induced fog. The knowledge gave him a heady feeling for a moment and then Potter continued, “Um… was it good or bad?”

“Good,” Draco admitted reluctantly. Potter’s white teeth bit into his lower lip and his brow scrunched up in concentration.

“Was it… ah… this?” He thrust forward and tore another gasp from Draco with the motion, who dropped back to the pillow in amazement.

“Yes! Merlin…”

Potter smiled in a decidedly Slytherin-like fashion and Draco almost regretted handing him the reins of control, until the determined Gryffindor set up an incredible thrusting pattern that soon had him on the edge of begging for mercy. Draco’s cock was unbelievably hard once more and trembled with the need for release. He had never felt anything like what Potter was doing to him.

“I can’t…” Potter tried to speak through explosive gasps. “I can’t hold it, Draco. Merlin… You feel… so damned…” The Auror took Draco’s aching prick in a firm grip and the added sensation was all it took. Draco came for the second time just as Potter cried out and shivered like a sail in high wind, matching Draco’s shudders. He realized his hands were clenched on the Auror’s shoulders, fingers digging in so tightly he would probably leave bruises. Potter collapsed on him, feeling too warm against Draco’s overheated flesh. Too warm, but somehow welcome all the same.

Draco’s hands slid over the sweat on the Auror’s back and dipped into the groove between Potter’s corded shoulder muscles. He had never touched a man before and gave in to his curiosity. Potter’s back was a marvel and Draco traced it with his palms from neck to arse and back again. Potter said nothing. His soft breaths huffed into Draco’s neck, growing ever slower. They stayed in that position until the sweat on Potter’s back dried into cool roughness beneath Draco’s roaming fingers.

“Am I crushing you?” Potter asked softly when Draco forced his hands to stop moving.

“No,” Draco admitted. He wanted to keep touching the Auror and was suddenly confused by his feelings. He shook it off. It was curiosity, nothing more.

Potter’s softened prick slid from Draco wetly and he grimaced. He thought Potter would cast a Cleaning Charm, but the Auror rose and went to the washroom, returning with a wet cloth. Potter spent far too long easing the warm flannel over Draco’s raw flesh. Despite what they had just done, the action seemed somehow even more intimate and personal. Draco felt exposed and wished for Potter to hurry, but he bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.

Potter Vanished the cloth with a spell and then slid back into the bed to spoon against Draco’s backside. He dragged the covers over them both and then buried his face in the nape of Draco’s neck. “Until morning,” Potter said throatily. “You’re mine until morning .”

Chapter Four