Fic: Photo album (H/D), Snapshot 7
Feb. 5th, 2006 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asimplechordSnapshot Title: Christmas morning
Warnings: sex (finally), still a bit of fluff
Rating: hard R/NC17
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. But I've finally gotten around to the bits that JKR'd probably think are obscene. :)
A/N: You know me, I always just type away and post immediately - usually my ponderings happen initially on paper in outline form. Mostly. Except the smut, which occurs purely in my imagination. So any grammar or punctuation mistakes are all my own fault, and I should be flogged. Or something. :D
Previous bits of the arc are here.
Hot. The first thing Draco noticed when he woke was the uncomfortable warmth surrounding him. For a second he was disoriented and confused; his own dungeon quarters were always cool. Then the arm slung across his back registered, and he realized where he was. Harry’s bedroom. Grimmauld Place. And the warm body pressed along his back magnified the heat from the heavy blankets.
They must have shifted during sleep.
***(previous night)
When he followed Harry out of the sitting room and up to his bedroom, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Certainly he didn’t expect the aggressive behavior that ensued. Harry was a Gryffindor, though, so he supposed he should have expected bravery and willingness to try something new. His first efforts were outstanding, in Draco’s opinion. They started with his slow removal of Draco’s clothes and ended with his mouth engulfing the head of Draco’s cock, his fist holding the base firmly, stroking while he sucked. The granting of Draco’s fondest, most secret wish destroyed his control, and all he could do was fist his hands into the coverlet, arching his back as he moaned Harry’s name with his release. He might have been embarrassed by his lack of restraint or finesse if he'd had time to think about it, but Harry immediately moved upward and pressed himself tight against Draco, burying his lips against Draco’s neck, shifting so that his own tormented cock could rub against the hardness of his hipbone, frotting himself to orgasm with just a few short thrusts.
As contented exhaustion set in, Draco felt the brush of magic; before he realized what had happened, he was clean and settled beneath the coverlet and sheet, Harry curled against his back, arm slung around his waist.
“Somehow I wasn’t expecting you to know the charms for that.”
“I did live in a dorm for seven years, Draco. Not knowing them would have made mornings pretty embarrassing for all of us, I think.”
There was silence for a while as their heartbeats and breathing slowed.
“Was that—Did you—Is there anything else—?” Harry’s words were tentative, muffled against the back of Draco’s head.
“That was perfect for tonight. We can talk about anything more in the morning. Go to sleep, Scarhead.”
With that, Draco turned his head enough to press a kiss to Harry’s shoulder, then settled in for the night.
*** (back to present)
Draco pondered his position: on his belly, with Harry laying half on top of him, his cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. Harry’s morning wood was pressed against his arse, and he wiggled slightly to see if he could get any response from the sleeper. Harry snuffled, pressing his nose closer to Draco and dragging his cheek slightly across his back as he shifted. He rubbed his entire body up against Draco’s for a deliciously long, erection-inducing moment, then rolled onto his back.
Freed, Draco shifted onto his side. He admired the smooth, tan skin on display; his fingers literally itched to touch it, and his mouth watered when he thought about the cock that was now resting on Harry’s belly, a dribble of clear fluid leaking from its tip. Turning to the bedside table, he found a tube of lubricant, which he laid on the pillow before returning his attention to the sleeping beauty beside him on the bed.
First, he brushed feather-light strokes along Harry’s eyebrows and nose, tracing his cheekbones and chin gently. He trailed a firmer touch down Harry’s neck to his shoulders, where he leaned closer to press his lips to the suprasternal notch, then kissed his way across the clavicle and down Harry’s chest. He licked a nipple to hardness, then latched onto it, sucking hard for a moment before delivering a sharp nip.
Hands in his hair dragged Draco up until his lips met Harry’s, and while warm, wet lips devoured his, the hands moved again to drag Draco’s body closer, until they were pressed together from chest to toe. Harry’s hands moved up around Draco’s shoulders, then down to rest below his shoulder blades. When he finally had to release Draco to breathe, Draco took that opportunity to move his attention back to Harry’s ear, which he drew into his mouth with a gentle nip. Harry’s hips flexed in response, and Draco mirrored the movement, aligning himself so that the smooth, hot skin of their erections touched for a few brief thrusts.
As absolutely wonderful as that felt, Draco would not let the sensation of the hot skin to skin contact distract him from his plan. He pulled himself up so that he could straddle Harry’s hips, admiring his handiwork: Harry’s skin was flushed, his lips swollen and parted on his panting breath, his prick even redder and harder than before, if possible.
A small poke to conscience forced him to ask, “Do you want to start where we left off last night, or do you want more?”
“More. More, please.” Harry’s eyes closed and his hips arched off the bed slightly with his hoarse words, and Draco bore down with his weight to press them back to the mattress.
“Give me your hand.”
When Harry complied, Draco lifted the lube from the pillow and squirted some onto Harry’s hand. He carried it to his anus.
“Just one finger at first.”
Green eyes opened and met his as a single finger petted tentatively at the opening, circling a few times before breaching it. A shift of Draco’s hips pushed the finger in further, to the second knuckle, and when Harry flexed his hand Draco shuddered. Worried, Harry tried to pull back, pull away, but Draco stopped him, grabbing and holding his wrist, moving it again, moaning with every motion.
“Another.”
The digit withdrew slightly, then returned with a partner. The slow penetration was repeated, but this time Harry immediately crooked his fingers, searching for the spot he had touched before.
“One more.”
All three fingers were inside him, probing and stroking, pushing him closer to orgasm, and Draco knew that neither of them had a tight rein on their bodies. He took the lube and warmed a generous dollop of it in his hands, then stroked it onto Harry’s swollen cock. When he thought they were both prepared, he shifted; Harry withdrew his fingers obediently, if slowly. Holding the prick upright, Draco centered himself over it and pressed its broad head against his anus. He relaxed his thighs, letting his weight settle down, and the head fought past tight muscle that resisted slightly despite their play.
With just that first inch inside him, Draco paused. Harry’s hands were on his hips now, their grip tight, and Draco could see that he was trying not to move, trying not to do anything Draco hadn’t given consent for; still, his hips jerked upward slightly with each breath. Again Draco let the muscles in his legs relax, dropping his weight, settling, feeling the penetration deepen. There was an ache and burn in his lower back, but the feeling of fullness more than made up for that. He lifted up and slid back down, meeting Harry’s upraised hips, taking more each time until finally Harry’s cock was completely inside him and his balls were brushing Harry’s pubic hair.
Now, when he felt Harry’s hands on his hips – Surely they’ll bruise, he thought with a satisfied smirk – he deliberately canted his hips forward, encouraging him wordlessly to take control. No more urging was needed, and Harry set a determined pace, marred only by slight clumsiness as he found what angle and depth felt best. Finally, he gripped Draco’s hips and pulled down, timing the motion as he stroked up, trying to find his prostate again. When he couldn’t immediately find his goal, Harry instead shifted one hand from Draco’s hip to his cock. The remnants of lube were still slick on his palm, and he used that slickness as he fisted Draco’s cock in time with his thrusts upwards, his grip almost too rough.
Neither lasted long. Draco put his hand over Harry’s, only to feel Harry’s hand move away, back to his hips, to forcefully pull him down to meet frantic thrusts. Draco stroked himself to climax as he watched Harry come undone; he could feel his balls draw up and contract even as he felt the pulse of Harry’s orgasm inside him like a heartbeat.
Draco let himself collapse onto Harry and roll to his side, wincing slightly when the movement caused them to disconnect with a squelching, slippery sound. Harry, though, paid it no mind, and instead drew his face up, kissing him so gently that it brought a lump to Draco’s throat. How long the kiss went on, he couldn’t say, but eventually Draco became aware of the sticky mess of his semen spread across Harry’s belly and his own. Drawing back far enough to look at the clock, he sighed in resignation when he saw the time.
“Come on, Harry. We have time for a shower before the family breakfast, I think.”
***
Even with a small diversion, Harry and Draco made it downstairs to the dining room while most of the Weasley family was still eating. Hermione had arrived, and she smiled knowingly when the pair stumbled into the dining room together. Harry plopped down in the seat next to her and grabbed the tray of sausages, putting two links on his own plate before placing a few on Draco’s plate also.
With a raised eyebrow at Harry’s presumption, Draco gracefully - NOT gingerly, he told himself - seated himself in the vacant seat between Harry and the head of the table. After greeting the table generally and Mr. Weasley specifically, he addressed himself to filling and clearing his plate. He was quite sure that anyone could see what he and Harry had been doing – Had they remembered a Silencing Charm last night? Draco asked himself frantically – just by looking at Harry. The foolish Gryffindor had never been able to hide his emotions. But when he caught Molly’s eye, rather than censure, he was greeted by a sharply assessing look that melted into a welcoming smile.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief; he had received approval from the most volatile temper of Harry’s family, and the most protective member of it as well.
tbc...
Because we still don't know what else Harry received for Christmas. Or Draco. Brunch isn't over, and the family gifts have not been exchanged yet, either.
Warnings: sex (finally), still a bit of fluff
Rating: hard R/NC17
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. But I've finally gotten around to the bits that JKR'd probably think are obscene. :)
A/N: You know me, I always just type away and post immediately - usually my ponderings happen initially on paper in outline form. Mostly. Except the smut, which occurs purely in my imagination. So any grammar or punctuation mistakes are all my own fault, and I should be flogged. Or something. :D
Previous bits of the arc are here.
Hot. The first thing Draco noticed when he woke was the uncomfortable warmth surrounding him. For a second he was disoriented and confused; his own dungeon quarters were always cool. Then the arm slung across his back registered, and he realized where he was. Harry’s bedroom. Grimmauld Place. And the warm body pressed along his back magnified the heat from the heavy blankets.
They must have shifted during sleep.
***(previous night)
When he followed Harry out of the sitting room and up to his bedroom, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Certainly he didn’t expect the aggressive behavior that ensued. Harry was a Gryffindor, though, so he supposed he should have expected bravery and willingness to try something new. His first efforts were outstanding, in Draco’s opinion. They started with his slow removal of Draco’s clothes and ended with his mouth engulfing the head of Draco’s cock, his fist holding the base firmly, stroking while he sucked. The granting of Draco’s fondest, most secret wish destroyed his control, and all he could do was fist his hands into the coverlet, arching his back as he moaned Harry’s name with his release. He might have been embarrassed by his lack of restraint or finesse if he'd had time to think about it, but Harry immediately moved upward and pressed himself tight against Draco, burying his lips against Draco’s neck, shifting so that his own tormented cock could rub against the hardness of his hipbone, frotting himself to orgasm with just a few short thrusts.
As contented exhaustion set in, Draco felt the brush of magic; before he realized what had happened, he was clean and settled beneath the coverlet and sheet, Harry curled against his back, arm slung around his waist.
“Somehow I wasn’t expecting you to know the charms for that.”
“I did live in a dorm for seven years, Draco. Not knowing them would have made mornings pretty embarrassing for all of us, I think.”
There was silence for a while as their heartbeats and breathing slowed.
“Was that—Did you—Is there anything else—?” Harry’s words were tentative, muffled against the back of Draco’s head.
“That was perfect for tonight. We can talk about anything more in the morning. Go to sleep, Scarhead.”
With that, Draco turned his head enough to press a kiss to Harry’s shoulder, then settled in for the night.
*** (back to present)
Draco pondered his position: on his belly, with Harry laying half on top of him, his cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. Harry’s morning wood was pressed against his arse, and he wiggled slightly to see if he could get any response from the sleeper. Harry snuffled, pressing his nose closer to Draco and dragging his cheek slightly across his back as he shifted. He rubbed his entire body up against Draco’s for a deliciously long, erection-inducing moment, then rolled onto his back.
Freed, Draco shifted onto his side. He admired the smooth, tan skin on display; his fingers literally itched to touch it, and his mouth watered when he thought about the cock that was now resting on Harry’s belly, a dribble of clear fluid leaking from its tip. Turning to the bedside table, he found a tube of lubricant, which he laid on the pillow before returning his attention to the sleeping beauty beside him on the bed.
First, he brushed feather-light strokes along Harry’s eyebrows and nose, tracing his cheekbones and chin gently. He trailed a firmer touch down Harry’s neck to his shoulders, where he leaned closer to press his lips to the suprasternal notch, then kissed his way across the clavicle and down Harry’s chest. He licked a nipple to hardness, then latched onto it, sucking hard for a moment before delivering a sharp nip.
Hands in his hair dragged Draco up until his lips met Harry’s, and while warm, wet lips devoured his, the hands moved again to drag Draco’s body closer, until they were pressed together from chest to toe. Harry’s hands moved up around Draco’s shoulders, then down to rest below his shoulder blades. When he finally had to release Draco to breathe, Draco took that opportunity to move his attention back to Harry’s ear, which he drew into his mouth with a gentle nip. Harry’s hips flexed in response, and Draco mirrored the movement, aligning himself so that the smooth, hot skin of their erections touched for a few brief thrusts.
As absolutely wonderful as that felt, Draco would not let the sensation of the hot skin to skin contact distract him from his plan. He pulled himself up so that he could straddle Harry’s hips, admiring his handiwork: Harry’s skin was flushed, his lips swollen and parted on his panting breath, his prick even redder and harder than before, if possible.
A small poke to conscience forced him to ask, “Do you want to start where we left off last night, or do you want more?”
“More. More, please.” Harry’s eyes closed and his hips arched off the bed slightly with his hoarse words, and Draco bore down with his weight to press them back to the mattress.
“Give me your hand.”
When Harry complied, Draco lifted the lube from the pillow and squirted some onto Harry’s hand. He carried it to his anus.
“Just one finger at first.”
Green eyes opened and met his as a single finger petted tentatively at the opening, circling a few times before breaching it. A shift of Draco’s hips pushed the finger in further, to the second knuckle, and when Harry flexed his hand Draco shuddered. Worried, Harry tried to pull back, pull away, but Draco stopped him, grabbing and holding his wrist, moving it again, moaning with every motion.
“Another.”
The digit withdrew slightly, then returned with a partner. The slow penetration was repeated, but this time Harry immediately crooked his fingers, searching for the spot he had touched before.
“One more.”
All three fingers were inside him, probing and stroking, pushing him closer to orgasm, and Draco knew that neither of them had a tight rein on their bodies. He took the lube and warmed a generous dollop of it in his hands, then stroked it onto Harry’s swollen cock. When he thought they were both prepared, he shifted; Harry withdrew his fingers obediently, if slowly. Holding the prick upright, Draco centered himself over it and pressed its broad head against his anus. He relaxed his thighs, letting his weight settle down, and the head fought past tight muscle that resisted slightly despite their play.
With just that first inch inside him, Draco paused. Harry’s hands were on his hips now, their grip tight, and Draco could see that he was trying not to move, trying not to do anything Draco hadn’t given consent for; still, his hips jerked upward slightly with each breath. Again Draco let the muscles in his legs relax, dropping his weight, settling, feeling the penetration deepen. There was an ache and burn in his lower back, but the feeling of fullness more than made up for that. He lifted up and slid back down, meeting Harry’s upraised hips, taking more each time until finally Harry’s cock was completely inside him and his balls were brushing Harry’s pubic hair.
Now, when he felt Harry’s hands on his hips – Surely they’ll bruise, he thought with a satisfied smirk – he deliberately canted his hips forward, encouraging him wordlessly to take control. No more urging was needed, and Harry set a determined pace, marred only by slight clumsiness as he found what angle and depth felt best. Finally, he gripped Draco’s hips and pulled down, timing the motion as he stroked up, trying to find his prostate again. When he couldn’t immediately find his goal, Harry instead shifted one hand from Draco’s hip to his cock. The remnants of lube were still slick on his palm, and he used that slickness as he fisted Draco’s cock in time with his thrusts upwards, his grip almost too rough.
Neither lasted long. Draco put his hand over Harry’s, only to feel Harry’s hand move away, back to his hips, to forcefully pull him down to meet frantic thrusts. Draco stroked himself to climax as he watched Harry come undone; he could feel his balls draw up and contract even as he felt the pulse of Harry’s orgasm inside him like a heartbeat.
Draco let himself collapse onto Harry and roll to his side, wincing slightly when the movement caused them to disconnect with a squelching, slippery sound. Harry, though, paid it no mind, and instead drew his face up, kissing him so gently that it brought a lump to Draco’s throat. How long the kiss went on, he couldn’t say, but eventually Draco became aware of the sticky mess of his semen spread across Harry’s belly and his own. Drawing back far enough to look at the clock, he sighed in resignation when he saw the time.
“Come on, Harry. We have time for a shower before the family breakfast, I think.”
***
Even with a small diversion, Harry and Draco made it downstairs to the dining room while most of the Weasley family was still eating. Hermione had arrived, and she smiled knowingly when the pair stumbled into the dining room together. Harry plopped down in the seat next to her and grabbed the tray of sausages, putting two links on his own plate before placing a few on Draco’s plate also.
With a raised eyebrow at Harry’s presumption, Draco gracefully - NOT gingerly, he told himself - seated himself in the vacant seat between Harry and the head of the table. After greeting the table generally and Mr. Weasley specifically, he addressed himself to filling and clearing his plate. He was quite sure that anyone could see what he and Harry had been doing – Had they remembered a Silencing Charm last night? Draco asked himself frantically – just by looking at Harry. The foolish Gryffindor had never been able to hide his emotions. But when he caught Molly’s eye, rather than censure, he was greeted by a sharply assessing look that melted into a welcoming smile.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief; he had received approval from the most volatile temper of Harry’s family, and the most protective member of it as well.
tbc...
Because we still don't know what else Harry received for Christmas. Or Draco. Brunch isn't over, and the family gifts have not been exchanged yet, either.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 05:25 am (UTC)I like Draco's nervousness about the morning after at the family brunch. I love their happiness. *happy sigh*
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 01:29 pm (UTC)Draco just seems like a person who has to be directing things, even from below. And Harry's going to want to try everything, so he'll get his chance to top later.