Harry latches onto Draco’s arm and pulls him from the dance floor.
“It’s time to go!” Harry leans close to Draco’s ear, his voice raised loud enough to be heard over the pulsing music of the club as he ushers Draco through the crowd.
Harry doesn't hear Draco’s answering protests over the beat of the music, but he sees the disgruntled look on his face. After three whirlwind weeks of following Draco Malfoy around, completely dependent on his every whim, Harry is unaffected by his pout.
As a key witness in an important case, Draco had been assigned a security detail. Though Harry is still unsure of the exact details why he had to be the one assigned to watch him — at Draco’s insistence.
Despite his better judgment, after a week of nagging, Harry had finally allowed Draco to go dancing. They had agreed on one hour at the club and his hour had long ago passed.
It had been a mistake. How was he supposed to keep Draco safe in a crowd this size? It had been an evening filled with tension and stress — and not a little arousal — as he had watched Draco mingle and move from one dance partner to the next.
He tells himself that it’s only about the tactical disadvantage and not at all the frustration of watching Draco dance, surrounded by throngs of men and women alike.
As they push through the wall of people and out the door into the cool night air, Harry’s grip loosens, though he doesn’t let go.
Limbs loose and pliant from too many drinks, Draco leans into Harry’s grip and when he stumbles, Harry slips an arm around his waist to steady him. He ignores the heat that pools in his groin when his fingers touch bare skin where Draco’s cropped shirt rides up.
Holding Draco tight, Harry Apparates them back to Malfoy Manor. The wards accept them both with ease.
Once safely ensconced in the Manor’s sitting room, Harry deposits Draco onto the comfortable sofa and plops down next to him.
“I hope you enjoyed that, because we’re never doing it again.” Harry drops his head onto the back cushion with a sigh. “At least not until this case is resolved. Then you can party to your heart’s content and my life can finally go back to normal.”
Despite his protestations, looking after Draco hasn’t been all bad. They’ve got to know one another in ways Harry couldn’t have expected. Keeping tabs on Draco has been busy, but also eye-opening.
Harry can’t deny that Draco has changed since the war. Of course in some ways he is still spoiled and demanding. Yet, where it really matters Draco has proven himself to be surprisingly kind and accommodating during the time Harry has been assigned to guard him.
Draco crawls onto Harry’s lap, his long legs resting on each side of Harry’s thighs as he straddles him. “Well, if we can’t dance, I guess you’ll have to find some other way to keep me satisfied for the remainder of your security detail.”
“What…? Draco? What are you doing?” Harry’s hands come up to grip Draco’s waist, an internal war waging as he struggles to decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Draco’s arse wriggles on his lap and Harry can’t deny the attraction there. He can’t deny that he wants Draco. Watching so many hands touch him at the club had been misery and he wants to scrub them all away with his own caresses. But Draco isn’t in his right mind. His thoughts are clouded by the alcohol. Harry doesn’t want this to be how it happens. He wants it to be real.
“No, not like this…” Harry grips Draco’s hips tighter and pushes him back to create space between them. More space between his straining cock and Draco’s warm, lithe body.
“Not like what?” Draco shifts closer again and Harry groans as their cocks brush against each other.
“Draco, you’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re bloody plastered,” Harry scoffs.
He tries again to push Draco away, but Draco’s arms encircle his neck.
“I can’t do this. You’re driving me crazy. It’s been good, Draco. Too good, to be honest, but I can’t be your body guard any longer.”
Draco ignores him, leans in closer, and nuzzles Harry’s cheek.
“I’m serious, Draco. You will be safer in the hands of another Auror. Someone whose personal feelings won’t interfere with the job,” Harry insists.
“I’m sorry Harry, but I don't accept resignations. And the only hands I want near me are yours.”
“No. You’re not in your right mind,” Harry says.
With one last herculean effort, he disentangles Draco, drops him inelegantly onto the seat beside him, and quickly moves as far away as the small sofa allows.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Draco throws his arms up in frustration. “Fiiiine! I’ll prove it to you.” He pulls out his wand and casts a sobering charm on himself.
“Now that’s settled, is there anything else? Or will you kiss me now like you know we both want? I can promise you I’m not at all impaired.”
Draco leans in, touches his mouth to Harry’s, feather soft, just a gentle invitation for more, until Harry replies in kind, presses forward and deepens the kiss. This time, when Draco climbs on top of him, he doesn’t push him away.
Instead Harry circles Draco’s waist and tugs him closer, hands sliding down to grip Draco’s arse as he trails kisses across his neck and jaw.
Squeezing Draco’s cheeks, Harrys hands climb higher to stroke the sliver of bare skin between the space where Draco’s shirt rides up and where his trousers sit low on his hips.
With a deep groan, Harry rocks his hips forward, gratified to hear an answering moan from Draco when their dicks brush against each other.
“Want to touch you. All of you,” Harry pleads.
“Mmm, yes,” Draco agrees as he slides a hand between them, palming the outline of Harry’s cock as he bucks forward and squeezes his thighs tighter around Harry’s hips.
Harry tugs at Draco’s shirt and Draco pulls away long enough to yank it up over his head. Taking full advantage of Draco’s bare chest, Harry leans in and laves Draco’s nipples until he feels them harden beneath his tongue.
Draco arches into his mouth as he struggles to relieve Harry of his shirt as well.
“Fuck this,” Draco groans as he grabs his wand and removes the rest of their clothes with one impressive incantation.
Presented with a lap full of naked Draco, Harry’s hands explore every inch of skin he can reach. He makes a mental note to ask Draco to teach him that spell later, when this is over.
Draco leans in to kiss him again. Slick and hot, Draco’s tongue moves against Harry’s in a seductive slide. “I want to ride you,” he whispers across Harry’s lips.
Harry nods and Draco wastes no time, grabbing his wand and conjuring some lube. Fingers slick, he reaches behind himself, slides his fingers between his cheeks, and starts working himself open.
With every thrust of his hand, Draco’s hips thrust, his hard prick bobbing between them.
“Mmm, let me help?”
Draco moans his consent as Harry palms the curve of his arse, fingers sliding between his slick cheeks.
Harry takes his time — caresses the rim before slowly pushing a finger in beside Draco’s own.
It slides in easily, fucking into Draco’s stretched hole as their hands move in tandem. He tweaks his finger, slides it against Draco’ prostate, making him keen and quiver with each touch.
Draco rides the wave of pleasure, pre-come dribbling over Harry’s abs as he squirms in Harry’s lap.
“Fuck, I’m ready. Want you inside now,” Draco demands.
Harry grips his cock, lines up with Draco’s stretched hole just in time for Draco to sink down hard onto it.
Harry can’t stop the ragged cry that escapes him at the sensation.
Arms woven around Harry’s neck, Draco holds on as he rides him. His arms tighten, clinging, fingers digging into his shoulder as he bounces on Harry’s cock.
“Fuck, yes! Harry, fuck me, yeah” A litany of filth spills from Draco’s lips.
He reaches between them, his fingers circling his own cock in a loose grip, until Harry bats his hand away.
With this tight, hot grip on his cock, he knows he won’t last long, but he’s determined to make Draco come first.
He takes hold of Draco’s length; slides his hand from base to tip as Draco shudders under his touch, hips moving of their own accord to the rhythm of Harry’s stroke.
With a twist of his wrist on every upstroke, Harry works Draco’s dick determinedly as Draco rides Harry’s cock with equal fervour.
"Fuck, I’m close. Oh fuck…Yes,” Draco moans.
Hands tangling in Harry’s hair, Draco’s whole body shudders as he comes, spilling his release over Harry’s hand and abdomen. His spine arches and his whole body draws tight as his hole clenches around Harry’s cock. It’s just enough to push Harry over the edge. With one last, hard thrust he comes buried deep inside Draco’s body.
Collapsing forward onto Harry’s chest, Draco goes limp and loose. He buries his face in Harry’s neck as they both take a moment to catch their breath.
Blissed, Harry rubs his hands down Draco’s back, hands wandering down to knead his arse.
When he shifts his hips, Harry’s cock slips free, but his fingers slide easily between Draco’s cheeks — dripping wet with the combined slick of lube and come. He traces the edge of Draco’s stretched rim before pushing two fingers in — plugging him to keep his come inside.
“You’ll be happy to know that I am indeed satisfied. I would even say that this is a more than acceptable substitute for dancing,” Draco murmurs against the skin of Harry’s neck. “What do you say, Harry? Who knows how long you’ll have to keep me entertained. Are you up for the challenge?”
Harry laughs and places a kiss to Draco’s hair. “Not yet, but give me a few more minutes and I’m sure I’ll be ready to give it another go.”