Work Text:
Draco is so engrossed in his work that he almost forgets about the tape recorder. The steady scratch of his quill pauses only when the recorder emits a single beep and a light on it flashes green. His gaze flickers between the recorder and the parchment. Frowning, Draco bends over his proposal and continues working.
After twenty minutes, Draco places the last word on the parchment with a flourish and stretches his arms above his head, wincing when his spine creaks. Sighing with satisfaction at a job well done, Draco basks in his efficiency for a moment before glancing at the tape recorder, his face breaking into an electric smile when he thinks of Harry. He packs up his work paraphernalia as usual: parchment stacked neatly, reference books stowed away on the shelves, quills arranged according to size and files arranged according to priority.
When he's finished with his daily bedtime ritual, Draco grabs the recorder off his table and pads to his bedroom. He sits down on the edge of his bed and studies the tape recorder.
It's sleek and silver, smooth with a metallic finish. It's slim; almost as slim as Harry's iPod — during their relationship of six months, Harry took it upon himself to introduce Draco to Muggle technology, but he still prefers quill and parchment to Microsoft Word. Harry had given him the recorder this morning just before reporting to the Ministry for a week-long trip to Southeast Asia for field work.
"Keep an eye on it every night at eleven, yeah?"
"What's on it?"
"Let's just say it's my way of wishing you goodnight," Harry had replied with a cheeky grin. He promptly pushed Draco up against the wall and swept him into a goodbye kiss so intense that it left Draco rosy-cheeked and panting.
Draco beams with affection at the memory and returns his attention to the recorder. Harry is such a sappy git; no doubt it's filled with the sweet nothings he loves to say and Draco pretends to dislike. Still smiling, Draco dims the lights, fluffs up his pillows and tucks himself in bed, his chest against the sheets and left cheek pressed on his pillow. He presses the play button, rests the recorder on the pillow and closes his eyes.
"Hey, Draco." Harry's sunny voice rings from the recorder.
Draco's grin grows. He loves Harry's deep bear of a voice — cheerful, smooth and incredibly sexy. Harry doesn't know it, but it turns Draco on so damn much whenever Harry leans in and murmurs filthy things to him during sex. He doesn't do it often, but remembering it is more than enough to get Draco hard.
"Day one. I wonder if you're missing me or if it's too soon for that. I hope your important meeting went well today, you've been so worried about it."
"Of course I miss you," Draco mumbles into his pillow, frowning. He'd been so busy all day that he didn't really have time to think of Harry, and it's only now that the all-familiar pang of worry hits him. He hates it when Harry is so far away and embroiled in dangerous Auror missions.
"You wanna know exactly what I fancy about you?"
Here it comes. Draco wouldn't mind falling asleep to Harry's voice detailing each and every one of his virtues — oh, he wouldn't mind that at all.
"Where should I start?" Harry's voice drops, and Draco fumbles for the recorder to pull it closer, eager to catch every word. "I love running my fingers through your hair, it's so soft and blond. And when I do it right, you make this... purring sound that makes me melt. I love that I'm the only one that can touch your hair."
Draco absently cards his fingers through his hair.
"And when you wake up, your hair's messy. You've got pillow prints and a sleepy smile on your face. I love how I'm the only one who sees you like that. Everyone knows you as big businessman Malfoy, perfectly put together, but here you are in front of me all adorably rumpled." Harry takes a deep breath. "And your grey eyes are so gorgeous, I... I've never met anyone with eyes like that. It's brilliant how much I can tell when I look into your eyes — whether you're secretly pleased or hiding something or... like, when we fight? Your eyes flash and I can see this... this fire and it's bloody sexy, y' know?" Harry chuckles. "I guess that's why our make-up sex is always so damn good."
Merlin, Harry's going to list every single body part of Draco that he likes. Harry, you sweet, sappy git! Draco's lips turn up into a dreamy smile and he snuggles into his pillow and duvet, yawning.
"Your lips are... I love kissing them, I love kissing you. You're such a damn good kisser. And you know what, Draco? You wanna know what I love most about your mouth?" Harry's voice is low and soft, and Draco can hear the cheeky smile nestled in between his words.
"Mmm, wanna know," Draco mutters, sleep tugging insistently at the edge of his thoughts.
"I love how your mouth looks when it's wrapped around my cock."
Draco's eyes snap open.
Harry laughs indulgently. "Yeah, you heard right. I love how your mouth looks when it's wrapped around my cock." He repeats again, this time much louder and clearer.
Draco's face grows warm, all traces of sleepiness chased away with the allure of Harry and sex. He hears another male voice — definitely not Harry's — mumbling something, followed by the sound of rustling sheets.
"I'll be back soon, just gonna go downstairs, yeah?" Harry murmurs in a soothing tone. A series of sounds ensue: the thump of footsteps, a hissed snarl of pain — Draco assumes that Harry bumped his toe again into the cupboard that Draco's always warned him about, the intermittent rumble of nearby traffic, the squeaking sound of Harry settling down on the couch, and finally, Harry's voice, gone deep and smoky with lust.
"That was you, by the way. You're in my bed right now, naked and all fucked-out, my handprints and love bites all over your body. Just thinking of you sucking me off again like that... fuck, I'm gettin' hard already, even though we just had sex. I gotta... lemme get this off-"
Draco's still staring at the tape recorder while the sound of Harry pulling off his underwear crackles through the recorder.
"You think I don't notice? You get so turned-on whenever I talk dirty. You love it, don't even try to pretend. You're always so posh, but when you're in bed with me and I'm fucking you so hard? There's nothing left in that sexy, sharp brain of yours except my name and your begging, all that yes, harder, more, faster, please fuck me till I can't remember my name coming out of that pouting mouth 'cos I'm fucking you so good, oh yeah..." Harry's moaning now and there's the sound of skin against skin, of Harry touching himself, sweet Salazar-
Draco gulps and flings off the duvet — suddenly it's way too hot in here. He trails his hands down his body, letting a finger graze the waistband of his pants before yanking that off. There's no time for teasing, Harry's already wanking and he doesn't want to miss a second of it. Draco wraps a hand around his hardening cock. The thought of Harry wanking to him and recording it in his sex voice while Draco was upstairs sleeping in Harry's bed after they just had sex...
"Are you touching yourself now, just like I'm doing? I wish I was there to touch you, I wish I was there so you could suck my cock, you're so fucking good at that. That's what I'm thinkin' of, as I'm lying here on the sofa, legs wide apart, left ankle on the floor and right thrown over the back of the couch, hand going up and down my cock 'cos you suck it so good. You like that image?"
"Mmhmmm, fuck that's hot..."
"You're gonna be here, in between my legs and sucking me off with that pretty little mouth of yours. Cheeks hollowed out, blond hair all messy and fuck, whenever you look at me with those sexed-up eyes with my cock in between your lips, I lose it, Draco, I fucking lose it—" Harry's rambling now, and Draco's hand matches his speed and intensity.
"Yes, Harry, yes, whatever you want!" Draco's hips buck up, his hand jerking up and down his length. He splays his legs wide open, mirroring how Harry looks in his imagination.
"And then I'd reward you by fucking you. Fucked you on this sofa that one night. You rode me and I watched that fantastic view of you fucking yourself on my cock, goddamn fuck yes! Touch yourself, yeah, just like what I'm doing..."
Draco's fingers tighten on the bedsheets as both their moans meld together. His toes clenching, Draco lets his imagination run wild as he strokes himself. Eventually, Harry lets out a choked sob and continues, his fingernails dragging along the sofa.
"I always think of that whenever I wank, of you bouncing up and down, your face lost in bliss, blond hair flopping all over and your arms grabbing the back of the couch, hard cock dripping all over me, fuck, you make me come so hard! Doesn't matter if I'm jerking or fucking you, you always make me come so good, Draco, Draco, Draco-"
"Come on, come on, just a bit more, don't stop..." Draco hisses, one hand reaching back to the headboard. He can feel his own orgasm approaching; that tell-tale tingle of thrill and arousal from the base of his spine travelling down to his balls—
"And your body... every inch... s'all mine. You're naked in my bed, in my bed," Harry growls; a growl so thoroughly filthy and possessive that it sends a shiver rippling down Draco's spine. "In my bed sleeping, God, you look so good... so worn out after sex with me... after I'm done fantasising about you, I've got the real thing upstairs waiting for me. Gonna touch you, gonna hold you, never let you go, fuck, gonna wake you up with a blowjob tomorrow morning, fuck, just thinking about your cock in my mouth, I can't... fuck I'm c-c-coming, Draco, Draco!"
Draco arches his back as his orgasm shatters through his body, his face scrunched in pleasure and ears ringing with his own cries and Harry's high-pitched whines. Leftover pleasure storms in his blood while he continues to touch himself, fingers lazily stroking the underside of his cock, nice and slow, just like Harry always does it after Draco comes.
He lets out a sigh brimming with desire.
After a few moments for them to catch their breaths and for Draco's pulse rate to return from erratic to normal, Draco hears Harry mutter a Cleaning Charm, pull his pants back on and go back upstairs. A squeak of the bed; and Draco hears his own voice, thick with sleep, through the recorder.
"Harry? S'at you?"
"Mmmhmm. Go back to sleep."
"C'mere an' cuddle. Now!"
Draco winces at his imperious tone. Is that really what he sounds like when he's sleepy? And he's twenty-years-old and still using the word cuddle?
Harry chuckles. The bed squeaks again, much louder this time. Draco hears himself sigh a gooey little sigh that makes him miss Harry all the more. Eventually, Draco hears his own breathing become steady. Harry's whispering, and it's so soft that Draco has to press the recorder to his ear.
"You're always so damn demanding, even when you're sleepy. But I like it. Tonight was just the appetiser. Same time, same place tomorrow. I'm just... well..." There's a loud smacking sound — that must be Harry pressing a kiss to a sleeping Draco's face. "I'm so lucky to have you." Harry's voice is like a warm, caressing hand, and Draco's heart expands with love. "Goodnight, Draco. See you soon."
The tape recorder clicks off.
Draco sighs, lifting a hand to rub at his faded Dark Mark.
No, I'm the one that's lucky to have you.
It's only day one, and he can't wait to have Harry home with him. He cleans himself up and wraps himself in the duvet. Although it's cosy and warm, Draco wishes that it is Harry's arms wrapping him up in his dreams.
Draco never thought he'd get hard looking at a tape recorder.
He wrenches his gaze from the recorder and tries to return his wandering attention to the paperwork at hand, but memories of Harry's sexed-up voice murmuring those filthy fantasies keep barging into his mind. It's been six nights; six long nights of being naked, horny and wanking himself raw with nothing but Harry's voice — not his body, unfortunately — for company.
With every night comes a different narrative: of Harry taking him in various positions— I'd fuck you from the back, 'cos I know how much you like it like that—or giving instructions to Draco— spread those legs for me now, legs wide open, hair messy, eyes closed and cock all hard 'cos of me, touch yourself, three strokes quick and thumb over your slit and then two strokes nice and slow; do it for me just like that, nice and slow, that's how I always touch you 'cos you love it like that—or Harry going into explicit detail about how he'd suck Draco's cock— hands on your inner thighs and my lips wrapped around your cock I love it when you grab my hair and whisper my name I love it when I'm doing it so good you can't even talk, I'd take every inch of you down my throat, fucking hell Draco fuck yes, fuck, so good, yes!
One night, Draco had heard nothing but his name falling from Harry's lips as Harry wanked. Harry had moaned, cried out, gasped, growled, hissed, whined that one single word, and Draco lost it completely as he touched himself while Harry dripped sex all over his name. Coupled with the rest of the sounds the tape recorder had captured: the sound of Harry wanking, the rustle of clothes and bedsheets, the squeaking of Harry's bed — it drove Draco over the edge and he had come so hard.
Draco leans back on his chair, spreads his thighs and palms his erection through his trousers. Hunger zings up and down his spine, and he gasps when his knuckles brush the sensitive underside of his cock. Licking his lips, Draco glances at the clock, his cock stiffening further when it's just two minutes to eleven. Two more minutes until he hears the voice of his sex dreams. He's spent the entire day waiting for eleven pm.
His libido galvanising him into action, Draco doesn't even tidy his table before grabbing the tape recorder and hurrying towards his bedroom. He leaves the lights off and strips, chucking his clothes into a messy heap at the foot of his bed. He tumbles into bed, anticipation humming in his blood as he clutches the recorder and eyes it like a hawk. His other hand slides between his legs, his fingertips grazing his inner thighs. Any second, any second now...
The green light flashes, and Draco strikes, jamming a finger down on the play button while he sinks down into the pillows. He hopes it's going to be a quick one tonight; Draco is so horny he can barely think straight. He won't be able to bear it if it's one of those long, drawn-out sessions with Harry teasing him to the point of insanity.
"Day seven."
Draco releases a pent-up moan when Harry's voice crackles through the tape recorder. He places the recorder on the pillow near his head and moves his hands down his body.
"Seven days since I've seen you, touched you, tasted you, felt you. Seven long days and I, God..." Harry breaks off into a whimper. Draco mirrors the sound; Harry's already started masturbating. "Want you. Need you. You're so damn gorgeous, Draco. Everything about you... need you now... so hard you wouldn't believe..." His voice is low and rough, each word hot and heavy and going straight to Draco's cock.
Draco's desperate for Harry's touch; his legs are splayed so wide open in invitation that his ankles hang off either side of the bed. His hips thrust up involuntarily while he wanks. His toes curl and he claws at the sheets, letting out a throaty groan. With his eyes squeezed shut, he imagines Harry in this exact position in his own bed, wanking and recording at the same time.
"Thinkin' of you turns me on so much, I — oh fuck, Draco — touch yourself right now too, just like I'm doing, make yourself feel good. If only I was there to do it for you. Touch your hard cock for me, stroke it hard and fast, just like that." Every other word is punctuated with a whine. Biting his lip, Draco increases the pace wish you were here, Harry, touch me please please please- of his strokes.
"Even saying your name... it's enough t' make me come. I love your name. You want me to come, don't you?"
"Yes, Harry, yes! Fuckin' come so deep in me, fill me up good, " Draco says through gritted teeth, shifting his hips to allow his other hand to fondle his balls.
"I need... Need to fuck you now so bad, need to... I'd give anything, anything to come in you, need to come in you right now, fuck, take you on all on fours, I'd come so hard in you, fuck you so hard you'd feel me the morning after, fuck!" Harry's voice spirals up to a shout and Draco gasps at the vehemence in his tone. He turns over in bed at once, landing on his hands and knees, sticking his arse up in the air and curving his spine just the way he knows Harry likes. He wraps his hand around his cock again and continues to pump.
"You're working now, said somethin' 'bout a meeting, but I don't care, I'd fuck you while you're in the meeting, I'm gonna, yeah, I'm gonna—"
The audio breaks off.
"What the fuck?!" Draco howls and lunges at the tape recorder. He shakes it hard, and when it doesn't respond, tosses it away and goes back to stroking himself. Fuck it, he's got more pressing things to handle; Harry said something about fucking him in a meeting, what's that about?
Oh.
Draco pauses.
Oh.
One week ago, Harry had barged into his office, all tousled hair and wild eyes. He was wearing his favourite The Ramones T-shirt and a pair of boxers — his home clothes — as he tumbled out of the Floo. He took three long strides to Draco while Draco was still sitting down, and then demanded if he had a meeting scheduled.
"In ten minutes," Draco had answered, to which Harry barked, "Cancel it," and nudged the opening of his boxers to reveal his impressive erection with pre-come already gathering at the tip. Harry must've finished the recording that very day and—
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Draco cries out. He groans and slips two fingers into his mouth, sucking hard on them.
Salazar, what do you do when you've got Harry Potter's cock in your face?
Draco had tried to suck it, couldn't wait to get his mouth around it, but only managed a few cursory licks before Harry growled and shoved him away. Draco could only watch, his mind yet to keep up with this sudden turn of events but his cock stirring as Harry tore off his own clothes.
A tapestry of pornographic images from that day prance through Draco's sex-addled mind. He's like a man stranded in a desert, savouring each memory like a drop of precious water trickling down his throat; pure, undiluted need rioting through his body I miss you, Harry, I miss you so much, come home, come home...
Draco whimpers and gets on his hands and knees in bed. He trails his right hand down his body, grasping the base of his cock while his other arm stays braced on the bed. He thumps his forehead down on his left arm as he starts to thrust into his hand.
He loves how Harry crowded him against his office table, his hands stumbling on Draco's belt and trousers while Draco kicked off his shoes and socks. He wanted so desperately to be naked, along with Harry, but when he reached up to undo his shirt, Harry stilled his hands on his buttons and mumbled, "Love how prim and proper you are at work but how you're such a wild little fuck in bed, keep that on while I fuck you, yeah-"
Harry spun him around and pressed his front to Draco's back, rubbing his erection on Draco's arse. He ran his hands up and down Draco's hips and waist, while he licked and nibbled away at Draco's neck, tongue tracing Draco's jawline- you want it so bad, don't you, want me to fuck you good and long and hard in your office, over your table- until Draco couldn't take his teasing anymore yes, Harry, make me come all over-
Harry bent him roughly over the table, and he fucked him so hard Merlin yes it's exactly like how I'd imagined it, you're so good, so hot and tight around my cock I'm gonna come so hard in you. It was unbelievable, 'cos just five minutes ago he was sitting alone at his desk working on business contracts and now he's got Harry's thick, hard cock pounding away in him.
Draco pauses in the recollection and stops thrusting. He groans at the loss of sensation, but moves his hand to circle a finger around his rim. It's so tempting to lube up and use his fingers, but Harry will be home tomorrow, and he wants to be nice and tight for him. His own fingers could never replace Harry's; no one could ever replace Harry, both in and out of the bedroom. Draco exhales heavily and returns his hand to his cock, pulling up the memory of that office fuck yet again. He's so close, just a bit more—
Harry grabbed Draco's arse-cheeks hard while he continued to fuck him, deep, guttural grunts issuing from Harry's mouth. With every sharp thrust, the upper half of Draco's body sank lower and lower on the table until he was spread-eagled, arms wide apart and pushing things off his table in a frenzy — an ink-well shattered and files thudded when they hit the floor — and his legs were completely off the floor, knees drawn up and pressed against the table. Harry's always been an amazing fuck; primal, powerful and raw, hitting all of Draco's sweet spots with precision and passion until the only thing Draco can do to ground himself in the onslaught of Harry's sex is to hold on tight to the opposite edge of the table while Draco lost his fucking mind and any power of rational thinking. Harry knows exactly just how to drive Draco's body to fever-pitch ecstasy, and fuck, Draco came so hard on his table, cock pulsing and semen dripping all over the contracts that he had spent most of the day working on-
Draco shrieks Harry's name as his hips jerk and he comes, shooting his load all over the sheets. "Oh, God yes." He makes a sound — a cross between a sigh and a sob.
He slumps down to the clean half of his bed and covers his closed eyes with the back of his hand. Draco waits for the intensity of his orgasm to fade, his heartbeat to slow, and for his world to click back to normal. That was good, so good... but it would never be as good as having Harry here with him. Draco Summons the tape recorder and pushes the play button, but it doesn't make a sound.
Draco smiles at the thought of Harry and turns the recorder in his hands.
Slowly, his smile morphs into a sly smirk when he thinks of Harry coming home tomorrow.
He's half-hard even before he walks into his bedroom. Just the thought of Draco, all ready and waiting is more than enough to get Harry going. Last Christmas Eve, he had come home to Draco sprawled in his bed, wearing nothing but a filthy grin and a large red bow looped around his left thigh.
He had fucked Draco — bow and all — fucked him so hard and fast that the knot of the ribbon unravelled by itself.
Harry enters the bedroom, his hopeful grin fading when he sees an empty room. Shoulders slumping, he dumps his rucksack on the floor and trudges to his bed. Draco knows very well that he'll be home tonight, so why isn't he... Harry catches himself and shakes his head. Draco's been busy with work lately; how could he expect Draco to be sitting around waiting for him?
Harry flops onto the bed and stretches. Maybe he'll have a quick shower and a nap before popping over to Draco's...
His fingers brush against something.
It's a tape recorder.
Harry licks his lips and presses the play button.
"You kinky little fuck."
Draco's voice — soft, sultry and seductive — goes straight to Harry's cock. He bites his lower lip.
"You don't know how it's been, the past few nights. Listening to you talk like that in that voice of yours while I touch myself... all naked and alone in bed when you're not even in the same country to give me what I need..."
Harry's eyes flutter closed, his right hand wandering down to the zipper of his trousers. The thought of Draco — his gorgeous, gorgeous Draco naked and wanking to his voice — is more than enough to bring him to full hardness.
Draco lets out a low, gravelly laugh.
"But that's what you want, don't you? You absolute tease." Draco's sexy voice vanishes, only to be replaced by a commanding tone that makes Harry even harder. "Take off your clothes. All of them, except for your red Auror robe."
He hastens to obey, stripping fully before pulling his Auror robe back on, leaving the buttons undone and the robe open. He fingers the golden trim on the robe; Draco loves his Auror uniform, loves Harry fucking him into the mattress when he's wearing nothing but this robe.
"Sit on the edge of the bed. Do not lie down. Open your legs as wide as they can go. Touch yourself for me, Harry, touch it good..."
Spurred on by Draco's sugared-up murmurs and his own fevered imagination, Harry starts to wank, toes clenching on the floor and his left hand rubbing his inner thigh in slow, lazy circles. He cries out Draco's name in between breathy gasps. It feels so good, touching himself and thinking of fucking Draco on all fours, but nothing could ever come close enough to having Draco's hands all over his body, all over his cock.
"Don't you wish I was there right now? Right in front of you, kneeling between your thighs? Mmmmm, you did say that you love how I look when my mouth is wrapped around your cock, didn't you?" Draco's voice is like silk, teasing and turning him on so much that he can barely think straight.
"I'm glad that you like the view, because you know what, Harry?" Draco's voice drops, and Harry pumps his cock faster. "Because I love sucking you off, too. I love having your cock between my lips. I love it when you tangle your fingers in my hair... when you make me take it even deeper, every single fucking inch of you in my mouth. I..." Draco moans. "I... love it when you hit the back of my throat and I'm still— oh fuck, Harry— and I still want more... so much more..."
Draco's voice is like an aphrodisiac all by itself. Harry hisses when he recalls every delicious detail of Draco's blowjobs; blond hair all mussed up because of Harry's pawing, half-lidded grey eyes smoky with sex, promising Harry a night brimming with pleasure. His cheeks hollowed out, head bobbing 'cos he's sucking Harry so damn good with that mouth and those lips... a flicker of Draco's tongue — that goddamn teasing tongue — brushing against his slit, sliding down to the underside of his cock.
"It's so good, isn't it? Or perhaps you'd prefer me on my knees? I know how much you love it when our eyes lock and I sink oh-so-slowly down to my knees in front of you. The tip of your cock between my lips and my tongue resting on you but not licking... you love how I tease you right before I swallow you down, don't you?
"Yes, yes I do, yes—"
"And when you thrust, oh fuck, when you thrust in my mouth I fucking lose it, Harry, I... oh, oh... it feels so good now, but it'll feel so much better with me there. Don't you wish I was there with you, Harry? Don't you wish your cock was in my mouth now, instead of just your hand? Too bad I'm not there with you. Too... bad."
There's no space in Harry's brain except for the image of Draco's blowjob cherry lips curved into a pout, and Harry's parting those lips with his fingers, and then with his cock—
"This is what it's been like the past seven nights. Think it's fun, d'you, this teasing? Well, two can play at this game. Enjoy your orgasm, alone." Draco's voice goes cold, and Harry's heart drops like a stone.
The recorder becomes silent; the only sounds in the room are Harry's desperate groans while he continues to stroke himself.
"Draco, where the fuck are you, I need you now, f-f-fuck!" Harry manages between clenched teeth. Fuck, that's it. He's gonna come, wash up and then hunt Draco fucking Malfoy down, in his office or at his home—
"Surprise, big boy."
Harry opens his eyes the same time a hand wraps around his right wrist, stopping his stroking. There's the clatter of a wand against the floor. The storm of lust parts to reveal Draco — half-naked and looking sexy as hell with his pouting lips — kneeling between Harry's legs and his mouth so tantalisingly close to Harry's raging hard-on.
"Fuck yes! Suck it now, goddamn!" Harry snarls and bucks his hips up. He whines in frustration when Draco seals his lips, a devilish tilt to his eyebrows. Undeterred, Harry tries to place a hand at the back of Draco's head, but the other man dodges and tilts his head towards the recorder.
It crackles back to life.
"Unlike some people here, I have a heart. How bad do you want it?" The lilt of Draco's voice is teasing and playful. Harry's eyes dart towards the recorder and back to Draco. Draco licks his lips and slides his hands down Harry's Auror robe, pushing it back from Harry's body. In response, Harry spreads his legs open even further and lifts his hips up slightly, his trembling hands planted on the edge of the bed. The top of the robe slides clean off his shoulders, trapped between the sides of his chest and his upper arms.
"I want you so bad. Need that good mouth on me. Please, Draco," Harry begs in a broken whisper. Grey eyes darken with lust, and then he's caressing Harry's thighs slowly, sensually, fingertips ghosting feather-light touches on Harry's heated flesh, before bowing his head to drop soft kisses on Harry's inner thighs.
Harry's cock twitches with anticipation.
"Good. I'm going to suck your cock now."
Harry glances at the recorder. Draco's talking, but through the recorder.
With that, a grinning Draco licks a long, slow stripe up his cock, from root to tip.
Harry lets out a drawn-out moan.
When the head of Harry's cock slips inside Draco's mouth, Harry cants his hips up in encouragement, only to have Draco restrain him with a hand on his left hip.
"So eager, as always. I'm kissing you now, kissing every inch of you just the way you like it, you feel so good, so warm on my lips... can't get enough..." Draco describes through a sigh, but how could he, when his mouth is travelling up and down Harry's length, dropping small kisses and tiny kitten licks, one hand on Harry's hip while his other hand fondles Harry's balls. Oh, oh it's the recorder... while Draco's mouth is busy sucking Harry off like his cock is a goddamn Honeydukes lollipop, the recorder is detailing everything that he's doing.
"Now who's the kinky fuck?" Harry growls, to which Draco pulls off, flashes a silky, self-satisfied smile and dives back in.
"You like it, Harry? Like how I'm giving it to you, my tongue going in circles at the tip before I take you deeper, my tongue spiralling down to the base of your cock before I suck you properly?" The words spill out in an unhurried drawl, and Harry can't wait—
"Ah, fuck!" Harry's eyes roll into the back of his head when Draco does exactly that to Harry's cock, matching the timing of the recording. Nothing else matters; his senses have narrowed down to Draco's mouth on him; that warm, velvety heat enveloping his cock, that push-pull sensation of Draco's satin tongue...
"Want you to thrust in my mouth now. Hard and fast, yeah? Just wanna make it so good for you, so damn good for you all the time, every time!"
Harry doesn't need any more encouragement. He lifts his hips right off the bed and fucks Draco's mouth with abandon. Draco moans around Harry's cock and opens his jaw wider. Grey eyes locking onto green, Draco's pupils are blown wide with lust. Fuck, he's never looked so good before.
"Don't stop, please, I love it, I love it so much, Harry. I love how I can take all of you. God, when you fuck, it's a glorious sight. I take it so good, don't I-"
"Yes, yes, fuckin' hell!" Harry chokes out. This has never happened before, hearing Draco's sexed-up voice while he's sucking him off. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of Draco's mouth, the silky feel of his tongue, his hands cupping and squeezing Harry's arse, his voice murmuring each exquisite desire through the tape recorder and those wide grey eyes; gorgeous, beautiful eyes staring up at him with all the promise of a porn star.
"Don't you wanna come, Harry?" Draco's voice is so damn tempting, low and intimate.
"Mmhmm, I wanna, please, I wanna so bad—" Harry nods his head eagerly as he continues to thrust.
"Where? In my mouth? Do you want me to swallow everything? Do you wanna come deep down my throat?"
He's so close, just a bit more, fuck, Draco's throat sounds perfect—
"Or do you wanna come on me? Come on my neck, on my collarbones that you like to lick and nibble so much. Don't you wanna watch it drip down my chest? I'd look so good with your come on me, won't I? Knowing that no other man's done this before, knowing that I wouldn't want any other man to do it to me. Only you, Harry. Only you can do that to me. Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Draco's words taper off into a flirtatious tinkle of laughter.
Fuck, that sounds even better.
"C'mon, Harry, please, please I want it all over me, shoot it all over my pale skin, yeah..."
"Yeah, come on you, I wanna— all over, gonna, nrrghh, all over you—"
Harry manages three short thrusts in quick succession before yanking his cock out of Draco's mouth. Draco raises himself on his knees at once, their gaze snagging in the air. Harry can't look away — how could he look away from the sight of Draco's flushed cheeks, lips pink and wet with saliva and pre-come? Fuck, he's so ready to take Harry's come on him. Harry's brain short-circuits and in just two strokes, he's oh yeah, oh fuck— coming so hard all over Draco.
Harry will never forget this sight for the rest of his life: Draco kneeling between his thighs, his neck and the top of his chest flushed with exertion and Harry's come dribbling down his bare chest. It's only now that Harry notices Draco's emerald-green silk boxers — Harry calls them the sex boxers 'cos Draco looks especially good in them.
And inside Draco's underwear, his cock is hard.
Harry's half-hard cock twitches.
"Welcome home, Harry," Draco purrs through the recorder.
With that, the recorder clicks off.
"Wow," Harry mumbles. "Wow." He passes a hand over his eyes and sighs deeply. "Fuck, that was... that was..."
"Messy?" Draco suggests, gesturing to his chest. His voice is all ragged, and a thrill sparks in Harry when he realises he — or more specifically, his cock — was the one that caused that.
"Ahh, hang on." Harry reaches over to the other side of the bed and lobs his shirt towards Draco. While he cleans up, Harry shrugs his Auror robe off. He kicks the covers away and pulls Draco to bed.
"I was ready to find you and fuck you," Harry says in a husky voice as he wraps a hand around Draco's cock through his boxers.
"Well, you've found me. You gonna fuck me now?" The tip of Draco's tongue peeks out a corner of his mouth and his lips part in a cheeky grin. He lets out a throaty laugh which dissolves into a guttural groan when Harry starts to stroke, his heartbeat thudding when he feels Draco's throbbing cock through the silky material of his underwear.
"Yeah, gonna give it to you so good," Harry murmurs between nibbles on Draco's neck. He tugs up the left opening of Draco's boxers and tucks the fabric behind his jutting cock. Harry hisses in delight when he resumes his grip on Draco's bare cock, his strokes picking up speed.
Although Draco arches into his touch, he places a hand on Harry's wrist. "Wanna come only when you're in me."
"I..." Harry's hand falters and his face grows warm. "Not now..." He ducks his head and gestures to his half-hard cock.
"Slowing down in your old age, Potter?" Draco mocks, softening his words with a coquettish wink.
Indignation wells up in Harry. "You're not the one that just came!"
"I guess I was just that good, huh?" Draco lets out a theatrical sigh, a self-satisfied smirk firmly in place, earning an eye-roll from Harry. "No matter, I've waited seven days for your cock. I can wait a little longer. Maybe this will help." He shrugs off his boxers, lies down in bed with his legs spread and fixes Harry with an expectant look.
Harry's gaze drops down the length of Draco's naked body, the view triggering a tidal wave of arousal and lust that swamps his system. Draco looks so damn good; his body so perfectly primed for sex that Harry can feel his own body reacting.
Draco reaches up to loop his wrists around Harry's neck, pulling him down. He yanks off Harry's glasses — Draco loves doing that and staring deep into his eyes. "You put on such a good show just now," Draco murmurs. "I was watching everything, touching myself. But you started it first." He kisses the side of Harry's mouth.
Harry slots his body between Draco's open legs. "You like the whole recorder idea?" he asks, sinking his elbows down to the bed. He tangles his fingers in blond hair and lowers his body completely onto Draco's, pressing their abdomens and erections together. He grinds his hips onto Draco's in lazy circles, grinning when Draco's face goes slack with pleasure.
"Fuck yeah. Didn't know — nggh — this side of you existed. Such a big, brave Auror by day, Saviour of wizarding Britain and everything..." Draco trails off briefly when Harry kisses down his bobbing Adam's apple and then back up to lick at Draco's jawline. "Everyone thinks you... hug kittens at the animal shelter or some angelic shit like that. But your favourite pastime? Fucking Draco Malfoy and talking dirty to him. Fuck, you should be recording videos next, I'd love to see you wank." Draco lets out a low laugh and fastens his palms on Harry's arse, pulling him down.
"You talk too damn much," Harry mumbles and promptly covers Draco's mouth with his own. They snog for a while, heads tilted and eyes closed, their kisses and the grinding of their hips slow and luxurious. Draco slides his hands down Harry's shoulders, down his upper arms, squeezing his biceps on the way before returning them to his shoulder blades, drawing him even closer. Harry pulls away to nip at Draco's bottom lip, stilling his hips to grab Draco's cock, slick with pre-come.
Draco whines and thrusts into thin air, his grasp tightening on Harry's arms. "No more teasing, please. Need you," he begs. Harry's breath hitches at the explicit desire scrawled across dark grey eyes and the full lips turned down into a rosebud pout. Fuck, how could he say no to that? With his heart pounding and anticipation thundering in his blood, he stretches towards his bedside dresser for lube, Draco's eyes tracking his every move.
When Harry's finished coating his fingers, Draco leans back at once, lifts his legs up and slides his arms behind his knees, gazing at Harry with dark-eyed rapture.
"Goddamn." Harry lets out a hot puff of air. Fuck, Draco is so ready and eager for him. He leans down and kisses Draco all over again, his hand going between Draco's legs. He starts to push in.
"Fuck, you're tight," he says, withdrawing his fingers and his kiss. "No fingers last week?"
Draco stretches up and drags his tongue across Harry's bottom lip before pulling away and shaking his head. "I know you like it like this."
Harry groans and thumps his forehead on the pillow. They've fucked so many times, but each time it's still fresh, new and exciting. It's incredible how Draco always knows the right thing and the correct way to say it to push his buttons — both in fights and in bed.
He goes back to kissing Draco, who lets go of his knees to wrap his arms around Harry's neck to return his kisses eagerly. Draco shifts his hips up and fumbles down to grab Harry's right hand, guiding him back to his arse.
"Please, Harry," Draco breaks the kiss to whisper. His eyes are half-lidded, long eyelashes fluttering and throat gulping.
Fuck, he's gorgeous. And he's all mine. Harry swallows, heart clenching. He slides a finger in and out; slowly, gently, loving the strangled sound Draco makes and how he clings onto Harry.
All mine. I can't believe it. Harry opens his mouth, wanting to tell Draco how good he looks, how lucky he is to have someone like Draco, but he knows that no words can ever express his feelings. All he can do is show him...
When Draco's hands fall to either side of his head, eyes closed and chin tilted towards the ceiling, Harry interlaces the fingers of his left hand with Draco's. He drops a necklace of kisses on Draco's throat and collarbones — smiling against Draco's skin when Draco lets out a happy little sigh — and then moves back up to Draco's mouth, sliding his tongue in between his lips when he pushes another finger in Draco.
He swallows Draco's moans of pleasure as he continues to work his fingers in and out, keeping up a steady tempo. Eventually, Draco wraps up the kiss by placing his palms firmly on Harry's shoulders and pushing him away. Harry pulls his fingers out and sits back on the balls of his feet, eyes widening when Draco smirks and gets into position on all fours.
Harry gulps, his eyes glued to the pale expanse of flesh on display in front of him. Draco loves being taken from the back. He toys with Draco's dazzling blond hair at the nape of his neck. Slides his fingers down the side of his long neck decorated with love bites, down the curve of his shoulders, shifting back to the centre to trail down the delicate knobs of Draco's spine, that sexy little dip in the middle of his hips and then the curve of his arse, pressing down on the dimples of his arse.
Draco turns back to slant a glance towards Harry, his smouldering eyes twilight sultry, hot and intense. His lips turn up into a sinner's smile and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, an unwritten plea in his eyes. He shifts his hips up and arches his back, wiggling his arse in the air.
Christ.
Harry lubes up, his movements urgent and jerky. It's not long before he's easing himself in, groaning at how tight and warm Draco is. Draco echoes his groan, his head hanging and his fingers curving into the sheets. After two shallow thrusts, Harry pulls out and hauls Draco's ankles apart. Draco takes the cue and spreads his legs even further until either ankle is hanging off the edge of the bed.
Biting his lip, Harry pushes in again, hands holding tight onto Draco's hips. He can't stop staring at his cock disappearing in and out of Draco's body, and the accompanying sensation of having Draco around him is entirely exquisite and intoxicating. Before he can start to properly fuck, though, Draco's hips are moving — back and forth, back and forth, setting a hypnotising rhythm as Draco fucks himself on Harry's cock, Merlin—
Draco reaches back to press a hand to the base of his spine, splaying his fingers towards his arse. He turns back to shoot Harry a sexually potent look; eyes hooded with lust and Harry's name escaping between gritted teeth, a renewed flush creeping up Draco's pale chest and neck, those hips maintaining their rhythm, back and forth, Harry's cock sliding in and out—
The dim fire in Harry's belly flares into life and something in him snaps.
"Fuck, Draco!" Harry shouts. He growls, grabs Draco's hips and starts to fuck, his biceps clenching because he's thrusting into him and grabbing his hips so hard, fuck yes—
"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" Draco syncs himself instantaneously to the change in speed and intensity; one hand stumbling up to curl around the headboard while the other drops to the bed for support. He arches his back even further, highlighting the elegant curve of his spine; he looks even better, fuck, how can sex be this amazing—
He's kneading Draco's arsecheeks now, holding so tight onto his flesh as he fucks and fucks and fucks so hard until Draco's body jerks forward with every thrust.
His name falls from Draco's lips — like a prayer — with every thrust, the bed creaks under them and the headboard bangs against the wall as he pounds Draco into the mattress. Draco's head flops down onto the pillow. Eventually his elbows give out and his shoulders and chest follow, but his hips and arse are still up in the air, taking Harry's cock. Draco looks so damn good, hair messy cheeks flushed eyes scrunched closed, panting Harry's name like there's no end. Christ, there he goes, snaking a hand down to his own cock.
"Waited all week for this, fuck, don't stop—" Draco manages between whines and gasps, his hand working his cock furiously. Harry groans and imagines Draco in this exact position, alone in bed while wanking to Harry's tape, and the thought of Draco coming to his voice...
Draco cries out when Harry's cock hardens even more in him. He's not gonna stop this punishing pace and, fuck, he's going at it so hard and fast, fucking Draco to oblivion. "Bit more, please don't stop, Harry, please!"
Harry didn't know he could go any harder and faster, but he does, all for Draco's pleasure; he fucks him, skin slapping against skin and their cries echoing in the air, bouncing off the walls, until he feels Draco's body seize up and his arse clench around his cock. Draco howls, his fists digging into the sheets. Harry falters for a split-second—
"Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" Draco demands. "Fuck me while I come!" He reaches back for Harry, and Harry laces his fingers through Draco's. He quickly picks up the pace and pounds harder into Draco, gasping when Draco chants his name as he comes. With every wild thrust, Harry's closer to his own orgasm, and it's gonna be so damn good — he can feel it in his bones — 'cos he's finally with Draco.
His grip tightening on Draco's palm, he pulls out, and with two quick strokes and his abdominal muscles clenching hard, he comes on the back of Draco's thighs, accompanied by a loud groan of Draco's name.
"In a messy mood today, aren't we?" Draco mutters, his breathing still uneven. He dislodges his hand from Harry's. Harry grunts in return, left palm pressed on the base of Draco's spine and right hand still on his cock, stroking it as he coaxes the last of his orgasm over Draco's skin.
The curtain of pleasure parts when a shirt is tossed unceremoniously at his chest. Harry's eyelids flutter open to see his shirt in a heap in front of him. He picks it up groggily and gives Draco's thighs and his own cock a quick clean before crumpling face-down in the bed beside Draco.
They breathe in shallow, furious synchronisation for a while, the afterglow of contentment basking on their skin like the cool and crisp night air. Eventually, Draco scoots closer, sneaking an arm under Harry's neck. Harry straightens up, rests his head on Draco's chest and snuggles into him.
He could stay here forever in Draco's arms.
"Hungry?" Draco asks.
Well, Harry is a bit peckish, but if he says yes, then they'll have to get out of this heavenly bed and put on proper clothes and venture out where he can't be in Draco's arms, and that absolutely won't do.
He shakes his head. "No. Just wanna shower and sleep with you til morning."
"Come on, then." Draco kisses the top of his head. He lets Draco drag him into the shower. They make it quick, and it's not long before they're back in bed again.
The weariness of the past week and the exhaustion from the sex has taken its toll on Harry; he feels his eyelids getting heavy and sleep tugging at his senses, but Draco isn't switching off the lights and turning in. Instead, he's squeezing Harry's hand at sporadic moments, as if trying to decide what to do. His body feels tense underneath Harry's touch.
"What's wrong?" Harry mumbles, lifting his head from Draco's chest.
"We haven't been spending a lot of time together lately."
Harry is alert at once. He sits up to look at Draco properly. It's true — their schedules have been rather conflicting the past few weeks; either Harry's working late or out in the field, and when he's free, Draco's not — either preparing for one of his major meetings or overseas for business trips.
"Yeah, but when Ron and I are finished with this case and once you're finished with the Anderson deal, things'll be better," Harry points out. Although his tone is matter-of-fact, his hands tighten over Draco's.
"That's what we always say, but something new always crops up just when we least expect it. So I've blocked off a week in my schedule and I've taken the liberty of" — damn, Harry loves it whenever Draco uses those formal phrases, and along with that cut-glass posh accent of his, it's downright sexy — "booking us two" — Draco gulps — "aeroplane tickets, first class of course, to Mauritius at the end of the month."
Harry stares. "What." That's too many things to absorb at once.
"I've been planning this for a while. I spoke to Weasley a month ago and he assured me that the best time to whisk you away for a surprise holiday would be the end of the month," Draco explains, counting off each point on his fingers. "I thought you'd fancy Mauritius as you've been griping about the weather here lately, plus I'd really, really like to see you half-naked and frolicking on the beach during the day and completely naked in our villa at night." Draco pauses to leer at Harry before continuing.
"Pansy helped me to purchase tickets online, and she tells me it's really not as bad as it sounds" — Draco's voice goes a little high-pitched — "sitting in a metal death-trap powered by Muggle engineering that I know absolutely nothing about." He drops his gaze to the duvet and fiddles with the edge of it. "I... didn't know if this was something you would fancy; it's our first trip abroad as a couple and I didn't consult you about anything." He lifts his head and meets Harry's astonished eyes with a gaze half-hopeful, half-shy.
"May I have the pleasure of your company at Mauritius for a week, Harry?"
The fact that Draco went to so much trouble: putting his reservations about Muggle aviation aside, being thoughtful enough to remember Harry's comment about wanting to sit in a plane, going out of his way to check with Ron about his work schedule, and also planning the holiday itself... Along with the promise of a week full of Draco and sex, sun, sand, surf, more Draco and even more sex is enough to make Harry's heart swell with joy.
"I'd love to!" Harry exclaims with excitement, happiness playing a symphony in his heart. Relief floods Draco's features, and he beams, a smile like a shower of sparks gracing his lips and his grey eyes crinkling with happiness. Draco kisses Harry, and Harry's smile widens as Draco's soft, tender kisses melt into his skin.
They pull apart after a while to cuddle in bed.
"Thank you for planning this," Harry murmurs.
"I'm glad you like it."
Harry closes his eyes and nestles into the crook of Draco's shoulder. He inhales Draco's distinct scent of vanilla and is suffused with a sense of contentment. Being with Draco is nothing like he's ever experienced before — of Friday nights and love, late-night movies with takeaway pizza, lazy Sunday morning lie-ins and warm cuddles in bed.
They lay wrapped up in each other until Draco pipes up.
"Have you heard of the Mile High Club before?"
Harry pauses in running a hand up and down Draco's arm, but still keeps his eyes closed. "No. Where did you hear it from?"
"Pansy told me about it while we were booking the plane tickets. She didn't tell me much, just said that it's extremely exclusive." Draco's voice hardens with determination. "I want in."
Harry opens his eyes. "Could be one of those membership things with flight miles, I reckon. Perhaps we could ask the counter staff about joining?" he suggests, wrinkling his nose in curiosity.
"Yes, she said it's all very hush-hush. According to Pansy, there has to be at least two people applying at the same time, so she told me to ask the staff if two of us could join."
Harry nods. He spies the tape recorder on top of his dresser and reaches over to pick it up.
"What should we do with this?"
Draco takes it from him, looks at it and looks back at Harry. "I'm sure we can make new memories with this in Mauritius. Maybe I should keep it for now. Just in case."
Draco's sly smirk, brimming with sexual promise, is all Harry needs for him to know that Mauritius is going to be a brilliant, brilliant vacation.
/fin
Thank you for reading No Angel, and I hope that you've enjoyed it!