Harry lay spread out on the bed. His cock bobbed tantalizingly against Draco's arse as Draco hovered over him, slick and stretched and ready to be filled. His skin glistened in a light sweat and Draco ran his fingers along the lean muscle of his chest, spreading the moisture over one hardened nipple. Harry groaned.
"Come on, Draco--foreplay is over."
"Harry-" Harry panted. His fingers tightened on Draco's hips and the head of his cock caught against the cleft of Draco's arse. "When I'm fucking you, it's Harry."
"Mmmhmm." Draco teased himself for a moment longer, sliding his arse against Harry’s thick length before he fisted the base and guided Harry slowly inside him.
"Finally," Harry breathed. He closed his eyes and a muffled moan filled the room--but it wasn't Harry's voice. It was Granger's.
Yes--Ron, just like that. Faster-
Draco couldn't help it; he laughed. "Bossy isn't she?" He cocked his head toward the wall the bedroom shared with Weasley and Granger's. At that Harry thrust upwards and Draco hissed as he stretched around Harry's length, a delicious burn spreading from his arse all the way up his spine.
"Like you aren't."
"Shut it, Potter."
"I told you," Harry said as Draco rose and sank back down ever so slowly, milking the feel of Harry stretching him wide with each thrust. Harry slid his hand over to Draco's erection and gave a rough pull. "It's Harry."
"Shut up and fuck me, Harry."
And later, Draco came to the sound of Granger's screams.
Breakfast on the weekends at Harry's was a cosy affair. Everyone slept in until half-eleven, then Draco would rise to find the bed empty and the smell of a fry-up wafting from the kitchen below. He'd stumble out blearily wearing only Harry's robe, meeting Granger and the Weasel half way to the kitchen in similar states of dress.
When they'd first started fucking--or dating, as Harry called it--Draco had learnt fairly quickly that with Harry came Granger and Weasley and there was no way around it. After a few false starts and one or two bloody noses, they all learned to get along for Harry's sake (and no other reason), and if Draco made a sarcastic remark about the ever spawning gingers or Granger's inability to keep her nose out of anyone's business, it was mostly teasing nowadays. Mostly. (And not affectionately, despite what some people might claim.)
So when Draco kindly offered to teach the Weasel how to cast a proper privacy charm that morning as they all tucked in to Harry's delicious cooking, he really hadn't meant anything by it. Weasley did have the decency to blush, but Granger was a different story.
"Why should we? You two certainly never do."
"Yes, dear, but gay sex is infinitely hotter than straight sex."
Granger snorted and Harry smacked Draco on the shoulder for good measure. "Prat." Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't pay any attention to him. It's fine."
"It's fine? So you were all right with 'Oh Ron--no, do it like this--yes--yes--yes--YES' emanating through the bedroom wall while your cock was up my arse?"
Ron choked on the piece of toast he'd been stuffing into that gigantic mouth of his (pity he was straight, Draco had often thought, he had a mouth made for sucking cock) but Harry merely shrugged in response.
Granger looked like the cat that ate the canary as she licked a bit of cream from her fingers. Draco slumped in his chair.
"Wanker," he mouthed, and Harry just laughed.
[when in doubt, fake it]
Draco pressed himself flat against the adjoining wall. He could hear murmurs, a low chuckle, and then-
Oh yes, Ron. Now touch me here--not so hard yet-
"There she goes…" Draco murmured. Granger was just rubbing it in now, he was sure. Ever since Harry had taken her side at breakfast a few weekends prior, she and Weasley were always having sex while Draco was at the house, without privacy charms--but that was a given. True, right at that moment, he might not be able to hear them so clearly if his ear wasn't against the wall, but it was the principle of the matter. And she was sure to get louder as soon as the Weasel really hit his stride.
Thankfully her moans drowned out whatever caveman-like grunts he was likely to make. Draco was sure that would put him off sex for good. Though, he did suppose reducing a man to incoherency was quite a powerful experience; it was definitely sexy when Harry could only groan and hiss and moan nonsensical words. Draco was aroused merely thinking about it.
Harry wasn't around to do anything about that, unfortunately. He was taking the longest shower known to the history of wizardkind while Draco was forced to listen to his flatmates have sex and ignore his growing erection, There was no way he could wank--that would be too disturbing.
Granger let out a delighted squeal and Draco hit the wall in frustration. He should be the one having fantastically loud sex right then, not those two sods.
What was that? Draco barely heard Weasley's voice. He pressed his ear against the wall again.
What was what?
That bang--you don't suppose Harry and Malfoy are fighting, do you? Weasley sounded entirely too gleeful at the prospect and Draco glared at the wall. Wanker.
More likely it's just a bit of rough sex. Hermione sighed and Draco furrowed his brow. Maybe it was just the wall muffling her voice, but she almost seemed wistful. Ignore them.
Draco bristled. He would certainly not be ignored!
He drew back and hit the wall again, then followed it up with a low guttural moan aimed directly where he imagined Weasley and Hermione were spread out over their bed. He ignored the needy throb that went through his cock at the thought.
If only Harry were actually there...
“Oh yeah--Harry--harder. Shove your thick hard cock in my arse and fuck me--fuck me now!” Draco imagined their startled faces as they paused mid-thrust, the Weasel too jealous of Harry’s prowess to continue and Granger wishing she could see how gorgeous Draco was bent over and taking all of Harry’s length inch by inch. Then they would start again, rocking in time to Draco’s moans, letting visions of Harry and Draco bring them both off. “Oh Harry...just like that. Yes, just like that-”
“What are you doing?” A voice whispered into Draco’s ear, low and teasing. He’d been so caught up pretending that he hadn’t noticed the real Harry slide up behind him. Now Draco could feel the heat of Harry’s body mere inches from his own and hot breath gusting across his neck.
Draco didn’t have any excuse for why he was throwing himself up against the wall screaming Harry’s name, save for the truth of the matter, so he kept his mouth shut. He was just glad Harry couldn’t see his face. Draco knew he was blushing and he hated the pink splotches on his cheeks even when Harry called them adorable and kissed each one in turn.
“Are you trying to make them jealous?” Harry asked, just as a low moan emanated from the other room. “Or does listening to my flatmates fuck get you so hot you can’t help yourself?”
To Draco’s mortification, Harry shoved his hand into Draco’s pyjama bottoms and grasped his cock. Draco was hard, and not just the beginnings of arousal from having Harry near, no matter what he would like to claim. His cock had steadily begun to take notice of the proceedings next door long before Harry had gotten out of the shower.
“Are you imagining what it would be like if you could see them?” Harry slid his hand down Draco’s shaft, then cupped his balls, rolling them around in his palm. “Do you think Hermione’s on top, riding Weasley’s massive cock—you know I’ve seen it. It’s huge.”
A desperate need went through Draco’s cock and he opened his mouth to curse Harry—to tell him to shut it—anything, but all that came out was a weak moan. Harry laughed again, nuzzling the back of Draco’s neck; his lips grazing along Draco’s skin made Draco’s knees buckle.
“Maybe she’s on her knees, and he’s fucking her from behind—maybe even in her arse. Cheeks spread open, his huge thick cock thrusting into her over and over and over again…”
Harry grasped Draco’s cock again and started to wank him properly, squeezing tightly around Draco’s shaft and sliding his thumb along the slit with each stroke. Draco was putty in Harry’s hands and he knew it, but worse was that Draco could picture everything in his mind’s eye just exactly how Harry laid it out: Hermione on her knees in the centre of the bed, her tits bouncing, Weasley stabbing her with his cock... Draco squeezed his eyes shut but filthy words kept spilling from Harry’s mouth implanting one image after another of Hermione riding Weasley’s cock, sucking him off, taking him whole inside her arse, and Draco couldn’t hold back any longer. A few more strokes from Harry’s talented hand and he soaked the front of his pyjama bottoms.
Draco leaned his forehead against the wall as he panted, trying to catch his breath. “You bastard,” he whispered. Harry gave Draco’s softening cock a gentle squeeze and kissed the back of his neck.
“That’s why you love me.”
They didn’t talk about it, not once, although that didn’t stop Harry from continuing to torture Draco with fantasies about the goings on in the next bedroom over. It became one of their tools to spice up their sex life, like the scarves Harry sometimes liked to bind Draco with before teasing him with his fingers and tongue until Draco was begging to be filled, or the feather Harry occasionally brought out to play, charmed to flutter against the most sensitive parts of Draco’s body at the merest touch until Draco was a quivering mess of need. Now, particularly when Granger and Weasley were at their loudest, Harry would describe in exacting detail the filthy things his flatmates got up to, almost as if he were peeking through a window into their room. And sometimes, even when they were quiet, Harry would position Draco on his hands and knees facing that shared wall and command Draco to imagine Weasley and Granger watching while Harry fucked him.
“Look at them,” he’d whisper, palms sliding along the curve of Draco’s back, “They’re watching you, watching how much you love taking my cock.” Draco could almost see them there, Granger sitting in the cradle of Weasley’s thighs, rutting against him as his hand pushed up her skirt and disappeared beneath soaked knickers. And Draco would come undone with that vision of Weasley bringing Granger off to the sight of Harry fucking him. It was some of the best sex he and Harry had ever had.
But they never talked about it.
Draco imagined sometimes how the conversation might go. Isn’t it a bit odd to be getting off fantasising about your flatmates? he’d say, and Harry would remind him that they weren’t just flatmates but his best mates, and Draco would say that possibly made it more strange. Harry would laugh then and offer to stop if it made Draco so uncomfortable. The problem was, Draco didn’t want it to stop, but he didn’t want to tell Harry how much he liked it either.
And then he imagined if Harry brought it up, it would probably be teasing at Draco’s expense and Draco would say, Wouldn’t they be traumatised if they knew? and Harry would get this mischievous glint in his eyes and say, There’s a reason why Gryffindor is known as the adventurous house. That would bring up a possibility too thrilling--no, too horrifying--to consider, so Draco decided it was best that they didn’t talk about this thing they did at all. Even if it was a bit odd.
But one night after a particularly long bout of fucking that hadn’t included the extra spice of Granger and Weasley’s love life, Harry brought up his flatmates just as Draco was about to succumb to the peaceful sleep that came with afterglow.
“You know, Christmas is coming up,” Harry said as he cuddled up to Draco’s back. He slid an arm around Draco’s waist and tugged him closer.
“And you’re getting me something spectacular, I presume?” Draco said. Never mind that he hadn’t given a thought to Harry’s gift, but Harry didn’t need to know that.
“Mmhmm. It will be,” Harry whispered. He darted his tongue out to lick the shell of Draco’s ear and Draco slapped the hand that rested on his waist.
“Enough--you’ve worn me out for the night.”
“Just a preview, for later.”
Later was promising. He wasn’t sure he could stay awake much longer, but Draco’s tired cock did twitch at the thought, at least until Harry continued, “But actually...I wanted to ask, any idea what you’re getting Ron and Hermione?”
Draco pulled away enough so that he could twist his head to look over his shoulder. “I have to get them something?”
“Don’t look so sour,” Harry chided. “You’re friends now, right? I think it would be nice.”
“Hmph.” Draco settled back into the comfort of Harry’s arms. “They better have a gift for me, then. And it had better not be one of those horrid jumpers.”
Harry laughed at that, then kissed the back of Draco’s neck. “I don’t think that’s what they have in mind, don’t worry.”
“You know?” Draco nearly twisted around again, but he didn’t want to appear overeager, especially for a gift from a Weasley.
“I might have an idea. But I’m not spoiling it. It’s a surprise. Now get some sleep.”
“Mmmhmm,” Draco said absently. But he remained awake long after Harry dropped off, his mind racing with possibilities.
Granger was pissed. It was the first thing Draco noticed when she answered the door and offered to take his cloak with a high lilting giggle. He spied Weasley next, sprawled out over the sofa, his ruddy cheeks indicating he was in a similar state. He was staring at the coloured fairies bouncing from branch to branch on the Christmas tree. Draco was surprised that Granger’d allowed the decoration until he remembered a shop in Diagon Alley had introduced a “Faux Fairie” line. What was the world coming to nowadays?
“Where is Ha--Potter?”
“Finishing up some paperwork at the Ministry,” Weasley said, then took a long swallow of some sort of smoky frothy drink.
“On Christmas Eve? Aren’t you his partner?”
Weasley just shrugged and Granger patted Draco on the back. “He’ll be here shortly. Come on and sit down. Budge over Ron.”
Granger led him over to the sofa and smacked Weasley’s shoulder. He straightened, but at the last moment grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. Granger let out a horrifyingly girly giggle and playfully swatted at him, but it didn’t look as if she was trying too hard to get away.
“Come on, then,” Weasley patted his thigh with a teasing glint in his eyes. “There’s room for you, too.”
“Very funny, Weasel.” Draco pinched his lips and sat as far from the giggly couple as he could, perched on the edge of the sofa.
“Oh yeah, you just want to watch, don’t you?”
Draco’s eyes widened but before he could ask Weasley to clarify his statement, Granger smacked his shoulder and whispered something Draco couldn’t make out. She then turned back to Draco with a nervous smile. Draco couldn’t help but notice the way Weasley’s hand was splayed over her thigh, pulling her skirt up slightly.
“Oh, you need a drink! Ron, Draco needs a drink.” Granger slid off Weasley’s lap and pushed at his shoulder until he stood. “Make him the thing-”
“Right, right, right.”
Draco glanced at the glass Weasley had been drinking out of as he left the room. It gurgled and another puff of smoke blew out from the rim.
“Is that the thing?”
“Oh relax, Draco, you look positively horrified. It’s just a bit of Firewhisky and something else...not sure what, but it’s delicious.” Granger scooted closer to Draco on the couch and leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve had two.”
She smiled. Draco expected her to pull away, but she just sat there far too close for comfort smiling at him.
“Just a little. Thought it would be a good idea for tonight. Take the edge off.” She winked and lay back into the sofa. A moment later, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’ve almost given it away! I do wish Harry would hurry home.”
“Given what away?” Draco narrowed his eyes. Just then Weasley came bumbling back into the room and dropped a steaming glass of whatever it was they were all drinking into Draco’s hand.
“Sorry, mate, not allowed to say. Harry made us promise we’d wait and open gifts when he got here.” He dropped down on the couch and wrapped his arms around Granger, pulling her back onto his lap. She giggled again, but Draco was willing to overlook the annoyance in light of this new information.
“Gifts? This is about my gift?” He whipped around to re-examine the tree in the corner--or more accurately the gifts piled beneath--but there were only the same presents sitting there as the night before when he’d dropped off his own gifts for Weasley and Granger. He had been disappointed then to note that none of the tags bore his name. “I don’t see my gift.”
“Some things are a bit tricky to wrap,” Granger said. She had a clever little smile on her face. It was disturbing.
“Drink up, Malfoy.” Ron said. “I think you might need it.”
“Oh isn’t it about time we dropped this whole surname nonsense? Especially considering...” Granger gave Weasley a look. Weasley smiled. It was perhaps more terrifying than Granger’s.
“All right. Draco. Bottom’s up!” He grabbed his drink and took a long swallow as Draco reached for his own. He had a feeling Weasley--or Ron was correct: Draco needed to catch up. He didn’t plan on spending one more minute of this evening sober.
Three of Ron’s strange concoctions later, Harry finally showed up. They’d managed to pass the time fairly amicably, though no matter how many subtle manipulations Draco had tried, neither Ron nor Hermione refused to give him any more hints about his impending present. He just knew he needed to be fairly lit, and Ron’s drink was definitely doing the trick.
He’d had to put up with a fair bit of groping on their part, though, and hadn’t been able to quell his perpetual arousal at the sight, no matter how many times he’d tried to conjure visions of McGonagall’s tartan knickers. They probably thought they were being discreet, but too much drink must have skewed their perceptions because Draco noticed every time Ron’s hands drifted a bit too high beneath Hermione’s skirt, or ghosted over the side of her breast, or Hermione shifted just so causing Ron to exhale deeply. It was when he noticed his own hand wearing a short path from his knee to his thigh and back that he began to suspect that his drink contained more than just alcohol. He didn’t bloody care at that point, as long as Harry came home right fucking then.
And Harry did. Draco was flooded with equal parts relief and the desire to drag Harry back to his bedroom and work out whatever this was in his system.
“Finally!” Hermione exclaimed as Harry shrugged off his cloak and scarf before joining them in the sitting room. “One would think you were the workaholic in this flat!”
“You started without me?” He dipped down and pressed his lips to Draco’s temple; it took all of Draco’s willpower not to pull him down for a proper kiss. “Have you been waiting long?” he whispered.
“Three of these,” Draco murmured back. Harry took Draco’s mostly full fourth glass and downed it in one go.
“No, we’ve waited! It’s been dreadfully hard, though,” Hermione confessed and Ron propped his head on her shoulder.
“Dreadfully hard,” he added and Hermione’s eyes widened before she elbowed Ron lightly in the ribs.
“You’re so crass.”
“That’s what you get for sleeping with a Weasley,” Draco said. Hermione gave Draco her patented ‘I-am-not-amused’ look, but Ron just laughed.
“’Tis true, love. You knew what you were in for.” Ron turned, brushing his lips against Hermione’s jaw, which seemed to mollify her as her eyes went from stern to a barely contained bliss. Ron looked as if he wanted to keep kissing down her neck, but he glanced at Harry and raised an eyebrow. “Can we start now? We’ve been bloody waiting forever.”
Harry must have given some sort of silent consent as he sank down on the sofa behind Draco because the next thing Draco knew, Ron had lifted Hermione up and turned her so she straddled his lap. They were soon pulled into a deep long snog as if they were the only ones in the room. Draco had to admit the sight was captivating. He’d heard it for so long, imagined them for so long, it was a bit surreal to see it all unfold before his eyes. Ron untucked her blouse in one hasty move, then rounded down and shoved up her skirt, exposing Hermione’s pale soft thighs. She threaded her fingers in his hair and rocked into him, and Ron groaned loudly.
Draco realised he was gaping; he tore his gaze away and half turned to meet Harry’s bemused smile.
“But I thought...we were opening presents?”
Harry’s smile grew but he remained silent.
And suddenly an evening’s worth of strange behaviour from Harry’s flatmates and the copious amount of alcohol they’d all consumed made sense.
“This is my present?”
Harry nodded. At some point he’d snaked a hand around to Draco’s chest and with deft precision flicked open the top button on Draco’s collar, then begin to work his way down, fingers skimming over Draco’s exposed skin. “We can just watch...we can fuck and watch at the same time...or we can join in. Whatever you want.”
“Merlin,” Draco exhaled. “You’ll have to tell me where you shop, Potter.”
Harry laughed, then his lips grazed along the back of Draco’s neck, but Draco couldn’t properly enjoy it; his mind was swimming with Harry’s words. Before he could even begin to form an answer, Hermione pulled her lips free from Ron and her wicked grin shot a jolt down Draco’s spine.
“Oh, after all of this, you two are definitely joining in. You haven’t gotten his cock out already, Harry?” She made a ‘tut tut’ sound, then extracted herself from Ron’s embrace and made her way over to Draco. On her hands and knees. Draco’s cock shot from half-hard to standing at attention in two seconds flat as he watched her crawl across the couch. Her blouse was loose, thanks to Ron’s earlier manoeuvers, and the fabric dipped with her movement. He could see her tits bouncing; she wasn’t wearing a bra. Draco’s mouth went dry.
Harry chuckled as Hermione went straight to Draco’s trousers and popped them open in no time at all. Harry’s hands roamed across Draco’s chest, tweaking his nipples, sending delighted shivers through Draco each time. Draco managed to look up from Hermione’s breasts and saw Ron perched behind the curve of her arse. He’d pushed her skirt up over her waist, and Draco suspected that if the fabric was out of the way, he’d see Ron’s fingers between her thighs, rubbing her through her knickers. But Ron’s eyes bored into Draco. Hermione wrapped her fist around Draco’s reddened cock and Draco moaned, unable to break Ron’s gaze.
“I think we’ve all got too many clothes on, don’t you Harry?” Ron’s lips slid into a sly smirk. Draco felt a wave of magic and suddenly they were all naked. He would normally tease Harry about showing off, but he was too distracted with a now very naked Hermione and Ron before him, both staring at Draco as if they’d like to eat him whole.
“Happy Christmas, Draco,” Hermione said. Then she swallowed his cock, and all Draco could do was lay back in Harry’s arms and enjoy the ride.
[whatever Draco wants...]
Draco was lost in sensation. At first he’d closed his eyes and just enjoyed the softness of Hermione’s lips wrapped around his cock. The next time he looked, Ron was there, nudging her over, then Draco was engulfed by his eager mouth. The differences between their experience levels was obvious, but Ron was enthusiastic, sliding his hand beneath Draco’s shaft to roll Draco’s balls around in that gigantic palm of his. Draco felt a scrape of teeth just above the head and Ron flushed and withdrew, with a mumbled, “Hermione does that sometimes. I like it.” Draco clenched his fingers in Weasley-red hair and moaned, “Don’t stop now-”
“You’re as bossy as her,” he said. Draco heard a round of chuckles at that, but Ron’s mouth was on his cock again so Draco didn’t care. His eyes slid closed and Ron swallowed him whole.
The next time Draco managed to open his eyes, he noticed someone had spelled the couch into a bed. Harry knelt behind Ron, thrusting three fingers into his arse, and Hermione stood above Draco, feet planted on either side of his hips with a particular grin on her lips. Draco would have been scared if Ron wasn’t currently turning his brain to mush by sucking each of his balls in turn.
“It’s time I taught you a little bit about straight sex, hmm?” With that, Hermione grabbed Draco’s head and pulled him between her legs. “Now lick--yes--just like that. You can go a little harder now--good-”
As Draco followed her instructions, licking her folds, dipping his tongue inside for a swirl until he finally found the little round nub she directed him to, he found himself mimicking Ron’s pace before, thrusting his tongue inside with the rhythm of Ron’s mouth. He heard a muffled moan, then Hermione’s voice became quite breathy. He slid a finger beneath his tongue and slid it in and out until he felt her spasm, her fingers tightening unbearably in his hair.
“You have been listening in, haven’t you,” Hermione said after a few moments of heavy breaths. Draco just looked up at her and smirked.
Draco lay along the extended couch, legs spread open to where Harry stood at the end, eyes raking over him appreciatively. There was a fire in his eyes; if Draco hadn’t already been hard as a rock and aching to come, he would be just with the way Harry gazed hungrily at him.
“What do you want, Draco?” he rasped.
Ron and Hermione stood next to him. Hermione’s fingers coiled loosely around Ron’s cock, and Ron’s hand occasionally brushed over her pert nipples. Draco knew he could ask for anything he wanted; he could take Ron or Hermione with just a word if he pleased, but the moment Harry asked, he only wanted one thing.
He extended his arm, and Harry grasped his hand, lacing their fingers together.
“I want you,” he said. “Fuck me, Harry.”
Harry didn’t bother with much preparation. Some lube, one finger, then two and the blessed feel of his tongue swirling around Draco’s hole for a bare moment, and then Harry was atop him, pushing Draco’s knees to his chest, his slick cock seeking entrance. Draco spied Ron and Hermione over his shoulders. Ron had braced Hermione against the wall and was thrusting wildly, but Draco’s vision went dark as soon as Harry breached him, so slow and sure, milking the burn until he was fully seated. It was only then that Draco realised he’d closed his eyes and had whispered, “Harry.”
Harry tried to take it slow, but the whole night had been too much; Draco’s entire body yearned with the need for faster--harder--anything. He scrambled to grab Harry’s hips, pleading with his fingers, clenching Harry’s cock tightly inside him, begging for Harry to please take him as rough as Draco needed. Harry groaned and thrust faster, falling forward between Draco’s knees, his stomach providing all the friction Draco needed as they rocked together. Harry pressed his forehead to Draco’s, his voice ragged and breathy all at once.
“Come for me, Draco,” he said. “Come for me.” Draco couldn’t refuse. The pleasure coiled up inside him until it reached a perfect burn, then he let it all go, coming with great gasps against Harry’s lips.
They lay on the still-extended couch, curled around one another, Draco’s head lolling on Harry’s chest. He hadn’t noticed when Ron and Hermione had left, but knew they were gone from how quiet the sitting room was, the only sound the soft rasps of his and Harry’s breathing. Draco felt used, sated, and completely and utterly worn out.
And that he just might be the luckiest wizard in all of Britain.
He inwardly scoffed as soon as that thought came and went; it was just proof he’d had some bloody great sex if he was sounding this sentimental, even if it was only in his head.
Harry’s palm made a lazy path through the drying sweat on Draco’s back. They really should take a shower or at least try for a freshening charm, but Draco didn’t think he would be able to move any time soon. He quite doubted Harry would be able to either. Draco wondered if Ron and Hermione would care if he and Harry fell asleep right then and there--after all, it wasn’t as if there were any more secrets between them--but the thought of sleeping in the wet spot finally motivated Draco to make an attempt. He started by carefully lifting his head.
“Where you goin’?” Harry mumbled sleepily.
“To bed, you great git. And you’re coming with me.”
“Mmm, in a minute.” Harry pulled Draco back down and cuddled closer. “Did you like your present?”
Draco smiled into Harry’s chest. Only Harry would ask, even when it should be the most obvious thing in the world. He was so adorably clueless sometimes.
“Yes, I think that should have been clear from the start. Though I do feel a bit bad,” he admitted. He dragged a finger along the path of tiny hairs leading from Harry’s belly button until they spread into a soft nest around his softened cock.
“I only got you a jumper.”
Harry didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Draco almost wondered if he’d dropped off to sleep without hearing the answer, when suddenly Harry laughed. It rumbled through his tummy, shaking Draco in the process. Draco couldn’t help it; he began to laugh too. He couldn’t seem to stop until he was clutching at Harry’s side, tears springing up in his eyes and his breath short and gasping.
“It is a one-of-a-kind--I spared no expense-” Draco said as he tried to catch his breath. Harry just squeezed him and when Draco turned to look, Harry was shaking his head.
“Should I ask what you bought Ron and Hermione?”
Draco flushed and he reached over and gave Harry’s nipple a rough twist, but was only somewhat mollified with his startled, “Ow!”
“You’re such a wanker,” Draco said. “All three of you have atrocious taste in clothing and need all the help you can get. Besides, I should be greatly angry with you anyway.”
Harry’s eyes widened and he took on a very innocent expression. “With me?”
“Yes, you. Telling Ron and Hermione all about our little...fantasies.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Ron and Hermione?”
“Well I can’t very well call them Granger and Weasley anymore after they’ve both sucked my cock, can I? And stop trying to change the subject. I think I should be angry. That was private.” Draco attempted to glare, but there was no real heat to his words. Harry’s eyes danced with amusement and a small smile escaped Draco’s lips.
“The ends justified the means.” Harry’s lips curled up at the corners of his mouth and Draco really wanted to kiss him. He held himself back though, with great willpower.
“How Gryffindor of you,” he said instead. And Harry saved him the trouble of further resistance by pulling Draco up and kissing him first.
“Somehow, I think you’re warming up to us Gryffindors.”
“Perhaps,” Draco said. He dipped down to kiss Harry again, no longer bothering to fight his desires. “Perhaps.”