Harry stood up just as the whistle signaling half-time sounded, stretching out the muscles in his back. So far West Ham United was ahead by one, but the goals were hard earned and Chelsea wasn’t going down without a fight. Muting the telly, he left the den, and went in search for Draco.
Dean had convinced the lot of Gryffindors to go to a few matches with him after the war, and Seamus, Ron, Ginny, and Harry had all taken to the sport quickly. They usually ended up watching the matches together in some combination, but today he was watching the game alone. Draco was still a little baffled by the television, and even more confused as to why Harry would be interested in Muggle sports, when there was Quidditch, but he always had plenty of things to occupy his time when Harry was off watching a game. He hadn’t seen Draco all morning though, and he figured he should say a quick hello during the brief halftime.
He wandered down the hall towards the study, guessing that Draco would probably be nose deep in some huge law book, looking up precedents in preparation for his newest case.
Harry opened the heavy wooden door, bright lamplight spilling out into the dark hallway. Just as Harry suspected, Draco was at his desk, surrounded by papers and piles of books, the largest of which was propped open in front of him. Harry’s gaze roved over the sharp lines of Draco, and he froze, an involuntary choking sound escaping his throat when he saw Draco’s face.
Draco startled, looking up at him, and Harry felt like he was in some kind of alternate dimension.
"Glasses," he managed to croak out, not even surprised that he’d only managed a single word instead of the entire, articulate sentence he had intended. Because how could he be expected to use complete phrases when Draco was sitting there in a pair of ridiculously stylish wire-rimmed glasses?
"Yes. Well-spotted. These are indeed glasses," Draco said slowly, peering up at Harry as if trying to figure out why he was being particularly slow today.
"I know that! I mean, why are they on your face?"
Harry took an instinctive step closer, drawn in like a moth to the flame. The silver frames made Draco's grey eyes seem brighter, sharper, and he looked even more intelligent than usual. Surrounded by books and the smell of parchment, the glasses made him seem impossibly prim and proper, like the fussy academic he so often was.
Harry wanted to ruin him.
"They’re my reading glasses. I’m sure I’ve mentioned them," Draco responded, the faint blush staining his cheeks belying his words. Given all the taunts he’d thrown at Harry over his glasses as children, his embarrassment was understandable, if unfounded.
Harry moved besides Draco’s chair, spinning him around to face him.
"I think they’re fucking sexy," Harry growled, placing his hands on either side of Draco’s face and rubbing his thumbs along the side of the frames.
Draco’s eyes trailed over him, lingering on the clearly visible line of Harry’s hardened cock. He licked his lips and looked up at Harry, the black of his pupils expanding in lust. He gave Harry a small, genuinely pleased smile.
"I can see that." His hands reached out for Harry’s waistband and began undoing the buttons. "Maybe I should help you take care of this."
Draco gracefully slid off his chair and onto his knees on the floor at Harry’s feet, managing to pull Harry’s pants and trousers down in the same motion. Harry never understood how Draco managed to move so elegantly all the damn time, but since he got to reap the benefits, he figured he shouldn’t complain.
Draco grabbed the base of Harry’s cock and gave a quick, teasing lick to the head before opening his mouth wide and swallowing Harry down to the root. Merlin, Draco’s mouth was so wet and warm, and Harry couldn’t help but weave his fingers through Draco’s hair to try and ground himself as Draco took him into his throat.
Harry gazed reverently down at Draco, pleasure sparking up his spine with each bob of Draco’s head, that wicked tongue of his making Harry’s legs feel like jelly as it massaged the underside of his cock.
Looking over at the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the study, Harry realized that he only had another five minutes until the game was back on, so he would have to make this quick. He tightened his hands in Draco’s hair and raised his eyebrows in a silent question when Draco glanced up at him through those beautiful glasses. Draco hummed in response and moved his hands to the back of Harry’s thighs, tilting his head back and opening his mouth wide in blatant invitation.
Harry groaned and held Draco’s face firmly in place as he began to slowly pump his hips into Draco’s welcoming mouth. Draco didn’t let him do this often, he loved giving head too much to "let Harry have all the fun", so Harry was always sure to take advantage when it was permitted.
He began to move his hips faster, spurred on by the little sounds escaping Draco every time Harry pressed into his throat, and the attractive tears starting to well in Draco’s eyes, magnified beneath the lenses of his glasses.
"Fuck. M’close, Draco," he panted, hips stuttering as the pleasure mounted.
Draco let out an obscene moan, gaze locked on Harry’s as he purposefully swallowed around Harry’s cock.
"I wanna -- " Harry broke off, pulling Draco's mouth off him with one hand and starting to pump his cock with the other. "Close your eyes."
Draco’s eyes momentarily widened in surprise, before he smirked up at Harry and obediently closed his eyes. Harry really did love it when Draco behaved for him.
He sped up his hand, and just a few strokes later he was coming all over Draco’s face, ropes of come striping his reddened mouth, defined cheekbones, and those infuriatingly sexy glasses, making him look completely debauched, and all Harry’s.
Draco licked the traces of semen from his lips, reaching up and carefully removing his come streaked glasses, smiling in amusement when Harry growled faintly at their removal.
"You really do like these glasses, don’t you?"
Harry blushed and reached for his wand, casting a quick cleaning charm on himself and Draco before pulling up his pants and trousers. Draco cast his own charms on his glasses, before slipping them back onto his face.
"They suit you."
Draco stood up in one fluid movement, and Harry couldn’t help but notice that he was hard. He glanced at the clock, hesitating as he noted that he only had two minutes before his game started back up, before reaching for Draco.
His conflicted expression must have been obvious, because Draco huffed in exasperation, before pushing Harry away.
"Oh, go on then, go watch the rest of your game."
"But -- " Harry began guiltily.
"I can wait. Besides, I really need to finish up this brief. You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight."
"And how will I do that?" Harry teased.
Draco leaned over and gave him a brief but passionate kiss. "I was thinking you could fuck me into the mattress until I screamed," he murmured, grinning wickedly at the shudder that ran through Harry’s body at his words. "But later. Off you go now." He made a shooing motion with his hands as he went to sit down at his desk.
Harry smiled to himself as he left the study, turning at the door for one last look at Draco, who was already studying his book intently, light glinting faintly off his glasses.
Satisfied with his unexpected halftime diversion, he headed back to the den to finish the game, ready to watch West Ham (hopefully) thrash Chelsea, and imagining all the wicked things he was going to do to Draco in just a few short hours.