Actions

Work Header

You've Left Your Mark On Me

Work Text:

Harry soared through the air, eyes scanning the pitch for the Snitch as he swooped and swerved, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair and the thrill that flying gave him like nothing else could.

Since the war had ended, Harry had played around with several different ideas for his future. Of course, he was still considering becoming an Auror, but in some ways after everything that he had been through, that path didn't hold quite as much thrill as it once had.

Ultimately, it had been Ron who had dragged him to this Quidditch clinic and Harry had to admit that so far it had been brilliant.

The day had started out in a classroom, studying Quidditch techniques new and old as well as the latest and greatest equipment. From there, they had headed out to the pitch for some flying practice and technique demonstrations.

Harry had excelled at and thoroughly enjoyed everything they had thrown at him so far. He had to admit that Ron had been right about this. Maybe the best thing for them was something a bit more fun.

High above the ground below, Harry sat atop his broom, searching for that familiar glitter of gold and silver. It was a bit strange to have so many other players to compete against instead of the usual one opponent, but he tried his best to focus and put all distraction from his mind, concentrating only on the goal that mattered at the moment- locating the Snitch.

Despite feeling slightly out of his element, Harry spotted an all too familiar vision across the pitch. An uncommonly bright shock of white-blond hair was visible despite the distance of the pitch. It certainly wasn't something that Harry had expected to see today, but he would recognize it anywhere. There was no doubt about it- that hair could belong to no one other than Draco Malfoy.

Harry had not seen much of Draco since he had testified at the git's trial months ago, so it was quite a shock to see him today, looking happy and healthy and nothing like the gaunt and stressed boy that he had been during the war.

Harry turned his broom, steering it in the opposite direction. He needed to focus on the game, not let himself be distracted by Draco. He did a lap around the pitch, weaving in and out of the other players, eyes never resting as he searched for the tiny golden ball.

A few moments later, Harry found himself back where he had started, no closer to finding the Snitch. Try as he might, he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering back across the sky towards Draco. However, Draco was not where Harry had last seen him.

"Looking good, Potter. Nice form." A familiar voice sounded all too near and Harry looked up to see Draco hovering beside him instead.

"Malfoy? Wha- ...What are you doing here?" Harry sputtered, surprised by his proximity.

"Same as you I imagine, Potter. Searching for the Snitch and enjoying a bit of Quidditch."

"That's not..." Harry shook his head. "Never mind."

Draco flew in lazy circles around Harry. "How are you finding the competition, Potter? It's a bit lacking if you ask me. Present company excluded, of course."

Harry braced himself for the inevitable rude comment, but when it never came, he cocked his head to the side, furrowed his brow and looked at Draco in appraisal. "Are you actually trying to have a civil conversation with me, Malfoy?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Maybe?" Draco smirked at him. "And what if-"

Suddenly, Harry spotted a glimmer out of the corner of his eye and he took off, leaving Draco mid-sentence. He lay down flat against his broom and gripped the handle tight.

Harry swerved in and out of the other players as he cut a path across the field. A quick glance to the side revealed what he already knew to be true. Only one player had easily caught up to him- Draco. He was close on Harry's tail, holding his own in the race to capture the Snitch, but Harry pointedly ignored him, focusing instead on winning.

Every turn Harry made, Draco did as well. Each burst of speed by Harry was matched easily by Draco. It went on like that for a few frustrating moments until suddenly, the snitch changed course, circled Harry's body, easily evading his outreached hand and flew over his shoulder, heading back the other direction.

Draco was close behind him, hand stretched out as well, and for a moment, Harry was afraid that the ball would fly directly into his palm. He was relieved when it zipped past him as well.

In a last ditch effort, Harry veered left, spinning his broom quickly around in a one hundred and eighty degree arc, hoping not to lose sight of the tiny ball. Underestimating Draco's closeness, he crashed head first into him.

It all happened too fast for Harry to completely register. Trying to steady himself, Harry reached out, instincts kicking in to keep them both from falling from the sky. His hand made purchase on Draco's leg, fingers digging into his inner thigh in a tight grip.

Harry watched as the elusive ball made a sharp arc upward into the glare of the sun, and Harry lost sight of it, favouring an up close and personal view of Draco instead.

Draco's hand, still outstretched in hopes of catching the Snitch, collided with Harry's crotch instead, causing Harry to nearly lose his balance and fall again. Without Draco's steadying arm around his waist, he would have.

Harry's cock reacted to the touch, and he squirmed even as he tried to even out his broom and remove his hand from Draco's leg.

Working to untangle themselves, Draco pushed away from Harry, one hand tightening on his cock for leverage as his other hand grabbed his broom again in an attempt to steady it.

Harry's cock continued to grow even harder and he didn't want to think about why his body had chosen that moment to respond. He was equal parts, confused and horrified to know that a touch from Draco Malfoy could have such an effect on him. He only hoped that Draco hadn't noticed his body's untimely interest in the proceedings.

Harry started to sputter out an apology when Draco interrupted him.

"Potter," Draco drawled. "I didn't know you cared."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise and shame and he felt his face heat in further embarrassment. It was obvious that Draco knew the effect he'd had on Harry.

Draco, the smug git, just smirked at him. Without bothering to respond, Harry scowled and spun his broom around again in an attempt to put as much space between them as possible.

The whistle blew, signalling that someone else had caught the Snitch while they had been otherwise preoccupied and Harry frowned further. He dove for the ground again, aiming to land next to Ron, hoping that he could avoid seeing Draco again today – or maybe ever.

-----

Harry stood under the stream of water, letting the heat relax the tension in his abused muscles. Overall, it had been a good day. He had learned a lot from the lectures and enjoyed the opportunity to put some of his newly learned skills to the test during the practicals.

He would say that the day had been a complete success- with only one exception- his unexpected and very literal run-in with Draco Malfoy.

Thankfully, Harry had successfully avoided Draco for the remainder of the day and had refused to let himself think about what had happened between them- until now. Being that close to Draco was disconcerting to say the least, but knowing that they had touched one another so intimately was even worse- or it should have been. Yet, every time Harry replayed the scene in his mind, his body had the same uncomfortable reaction.

He reached down to wash himself, willing his cock not to harden any further. Unfortunately the steamy shower wasn't helping his cause and it seemed that instead of discouraging, his simple touch was rather encouraging instead. He briefly played around with the idea of having a quick wank but ultimately decided against it. Surely, he had more self control than that- or so he told himself.

At least he was alone in the locker room. The other players had gone long ago. Even Ron had finished early in order to hurry home to Hermione. Harry on the other hand had purposely waited until everyone else was done. Being The Boy Who Lived had made him reluctant to shower in crowds. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of, but it seemed that after the war, everyone wanted to get a look at what was in his pants and it was nothing if not disturbing.

Harry released his cock, allowing it to hang between his legs, thick and heavy as he continued to wash, running soapy hands over his chest and down his stomach. His hands roamed over his body cleaning himself thoroughly but avoiding his over-interested cock.

Once satisfied that he was clean, Harry shifted under the spray, turning around to dip his head back under the shower head. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his thick hair.

Spinning around under the cascade of water, Harry opened his eyes once again and found himself looking directly into the smoky grey eyes of Draco. Harry backed up a step and submerged himself under the stream of water, sputtering as he breathed it in with a surprised gasp.

Harry coughed to clear his airway and scrubbed at his face. "What? Why? Why are you still here?"

Draco leaned against the tiled shower wall with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He looked completely comfortable standing there half-naked watching Harry shower.

Draco pushed off from the wall and took a step closer. Harry watched him, unsure what to expect. As Draco drew nearer, Harry noticed a long, thin scar that crossed over his chest. It was faded, only a slender, silvery line remained, but Harry felt a twinge of guilt nevertheless. Confronted with the truth of it, he found that he deeply regretted his part in marring that otherwise smooth expanse of skin.

"I thought you might want to continue what we started earlier."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Harry refused to acknowledge the interest that his cock was showing in Draco's presence. He didn't understand what was happening to him. He'd never had a reaction like this to another man.

"I think you do," Draco insisted.

"I really don't." Harry said stubbornly as he turned off the water and reached for his towel, draping it haphazardly around his own waist. "But if you'd like a shower, I'm done. It's all yours."

"I didn't come here for the shower." Draco moved closer, much too close as far as Harry was concerned.

Harry averted his eyes and tried to step around Draco. "Whatever. I'm leaving. Do what you want."

Draco's hand snaked out and caught Harry by the wrist. "I'm here for you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Harry tried to pull his arm away but Draco's grip was surprisingly firm.

"Why the hurry?" Draco gave a tug to Harry's arm, pulling him closer. "I think you're more interested than you want to admit." Draco looked pointedly at the tenting in the front of Harry's towel.

"Let me go," Harry growled. He scowled at Draco, attempting to yank his arm away again. He felt his ire rising at the situation, definitely more irritation than embarrassment as the scene continued to unfold.

Draco laughed, but he let go- right as Harry gave one last strong pull away, sending himself stumbling backwards against the shower wall.

"All you had to do was ask." Draco smirked.

Anger boiled up in Harry. He was frustrated that Draco was being a prat and even more frustrated with himself for his body's continued reaction to Draco. To top it off, there was a light in Draco's eyes that Harry had never before seen and he wasn't sure how to react. Harry knew that Draco's mirth was at his expense and the fact that Draco only seemed amused when Harry was expecting his usual anger only made it even worse. The prat looked like he was even enjoying himself.

"Okay, Malfoy. You've had your laugh. What more do you want?"

Draco came closer, backing Harry further up against the wall, making him feel like a caged animal.

"Are you sure you really want the answer to that question, Potter? Will you like the answer I give you?" Draco leaned in until Harry could feel warm breath against his cheek.

"The funny thing is, I didn't know what I wanted myself, until our little run-in up in the air. Now I know. I know exactly what I want more that I ever have before. The question is, will you let me have it?"

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest and the feel of Draco's cheek pressed up against his was overwhelming. His hands came up, connecting with Draco's scarred chest and he shoved.

Draco stumbled back a step from the force of Harry's push, but once again he only laughed. Harry didn't understand it. The Draco Malfoy he knew in school would have been irate, but the man standing before him now seemed pleased by their exchange.

If Harry's own body's reaction was a source of confusion, then Draco's actions were even more so. It was as if he was actually enjoying this and Harry couldn't understand it. This went against everything he knew about Draco.

"You want to know what I want?" Draco took a step forward. "I want you."

Suddenly, Draco's body was pressed up against Harry's again, his arms pinned to either side of his head, held by Draco's hands. "And I think you want me too."

Draco slid one leg between Harry's thighs, brushing against his erection, and Harry whimpered. It became immediately apparent to Harry that he wasn't the only one turned on. He could feel Draco's erection pressing against his leg and he didn't know if that made it better or worse.

"If I let you go, will you let me show you how much I want you?"

Harry stared at Draco, unsure if he could be trusted. Draco stared back, but there was no malice in his expression and Harry was amazed to find that he believed him- trusted him. Harry simply nodded.

Draco released Harry's arms. Slow and sensual, he trailed his fingers down the underside of Harry's forearms. As Draco's hands moved away, Harry's followed them, finding himself surprisingly reluctant to lose the touch.

Draco took a step back, and Harry's eyes once again lingered on the scar running across his chest.

Draco saw him looking and took one of Harry's hands in his own again. He raised both of their hands to his chest. Ever so slowly – torturously, Draco laced their fingers together and traced the barely raised edge of the scar with their entwined hands.

"It's your mark. Do you like it?" Draco smirked.

"Stop it." Harry scowled, trying to pull his hand away. "That's not funny. You shouldn't joke about something like this." Harry swallowed audibly. "I could have..."

Harry felt Draco's other hand reach out to grab his chin, lifting his face to meet him eye to eye. He shook his head. "Don't."

"No," Harry insisted. "I did that. I'm sor–" He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, guilt stricken, and not wanting to see the evidence of his foolishness. Draco still held his hand to his chest, protectively.

"Potter – don't. Don't apologize. I mean it. I accepted it a long time ago. It's part of who I am."

"It's –" Draco paused, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "A constant reminder of you."

Harry dropped his gaze once more, staring at Draco's chest.

"I really don't mind. You can look at it – touch it, if you want."

Draco dropped his own hand, but Harry's lingered there. He could remember it like it was yesterday- watching the blood poor out of Draco, helpless to stop it. No matter their history, he had never wanted Draco dead.

This time, his hand moved lightly along that soft silvery line alone and of his own free will.

"Look at it this way – I'll never be able to forget you." Draco's smirk returned and just like that the poncy git was back, the moment had passed and the iron grip on Harry's lungs finally abated.

"As if you could anyway." Harry returned Draco's smirk with a matching one of his own.

The look Draco gave him was almost comical and Harry had to bite his lip to hold in his laughter.

The next thing Harry knew, Draco's body was pressed up against his again, chest to chest and toe to toe as his leg slid smoothly back into place between Harry's, like it belonged there. Harry groaned at the contact but it was cut short by Draco's mouth on his.

Draco caught Harry's lower lip between his and his hand came up to tangle in Harry's wet hair.
He swept his tongue into Harry's mouth, deepening the kiss, his other arm sliding around Harry's waist. Harry's breath caught in his throat as their tongues met, and he slid both hands up Draco's arms. He meant to push him away but his hands gripped Draco's biceps instead, holding him in place. Harry briefly wondered if this meant he was gay, but with Draco's lips on his, he found that he couldn't be bothered to care.

No matter how much his brain was screaming for him to stop this, Harry couldn't bring himself to do it and much to his everlasting horror it was Draco that broke the kiss first. For a brief moment, Harry feared that it had all been a horrible joke, but then Draco's lips attached themselves to Harry's neck, marking a path along his jaw and collarbone, then making his way down Harry's body, trailing kisses as he went.

Draco dropped gracefully to his knees and tugged at Harry's towel. What little good the towel was doing to keep Harry's erection restrained was lost and his cock sprung to life, jutting out from his body towards Draco. Draco's fingers wrapped around Harry's length, guiding it towards his mouth and all Harry could do was stare.

Draco traced the leaking head against his lips, his pink, wet tongue darting out to lick the pre-come from the tip of Harry's cock before it was enveloped by the most delicious moist heat. Harry thought he might die from the pleasure. He watched as Draco bobbed his head, sliding his lips along Harry's shaft, covering his entire hardness with his mouth before sliding back again until Harry's cock almost slipped entirely from Draco's mouth.

On each, downward thrust of Draco's mouth, his tongue did the most tantalizing flick and Harry had to fight to keep from thrusting his hips, and forcing his cock deeper down Draco's throat. The only thing that stopped him was fear for Draco's ability to breathe. At that moment, Draco's air supply seemed like the most important thing to Harry. Draco needed to breathe to live and he had to keep living in order to keep sucking Harry's cock, something that Harry didn't ever want him to stop.

He wished that this exquisite sensation could go on forever, except that Harry knew he was getting much too close to coming and the end was inevitable. He reached down to tug at Draco's hair in warning.

Draco didn't pull away when Harry yanked on his hair. He seemed to be completely oblivious to the urgency of the situation. Harry whimpered and pulled harder on Draco's silky blond hair, but Draco remained immovable, steadfastly sliding mouth and hand over Harry's cock, never breaking his rhythm.

Harry grew desperate, shoving at Draco and finally succeeding in pushing him away at the last possible moment. Thankfully, Draco released Harry's cock just as he lost the last of his control. Harry cried out, his whole body stiffening and jerking helplessly as he came in long white strands. Draco leaned forward, eyes closed, purposefully placing his face in the stream of come as it sprayed over his lips, nose and chin, painting them with the evidence of Harry's passion.

Draco looked up at Harry through hooded eyes as he swiped a finger through the mess running down his cheek and brought it to his mouth.

His face heating in embarrassment, Harry watched Draco suck his come from his finger. He leaned against the wall, completely boneless, allowing it to support his weight. Without it he was afraid he would have collapsed straight to the floor.

"Er... sorry," Harry stuttered.

Draco released his own towel from his waist, leaving himself unabashedly naked and used it to wipe the remaining come from his face.

"No need." Draco said as he rose gracefully to his feet again and pressed Harry against the wall with a devilish grin.

Reluctant to admit it, Harry was grateful for Draco's arms around him. He'd never had an orgasm with such intensity and he still felt as if his legs might give out at any moment.

Draco tightened his arms around Harry's waist. Harry watched as his tongue darted out, gliding over his bottom lip again, licking the last of Harry's come from it. "You taste delicious. I want to taste you everywhere- if you'll let me."

Draco lifted a hand to caress Harry's cheek, He leaned in, grazing his lips against Harry's. His tongue swept across Harry's lips this time. Harry parted them, hesitantly returning the gesture, their tongues tangling together between them.

Harry could still taste a hint of his own come on Draco's lips and tongue, mingled with something that was unmistakably Draco, and it just made Harry want him all the more. Groaning, he pressed forward, insistent to seek out more of their combined taste deeper in Draco's mouth.

They kissed for long moments, until their need for air, outweighed their need to devour one another. Gasping for breath, Draco moved to kiss Harry's neck again instead, lips sliding along his skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake.

Harry gripped Draco's arm tightly and tried not to moan at the way that his tongue slid along his neck. Harry's other hand, traveled up Draco's body, moving almost on it's own without permission.

The rational side of Harry's mind had shut off in the hazy after effect of his orgasm and his arm wrapped around Draco's waist, pulling him closer, thoughts of pushing him away now far from his mind. It was as if something had snapped into place. He didn't know if it was because it was another bloke or just because it was Draco. He only knew that he wanted this like he'd never wanted anything before.

Attempting to hide his blush, Harry turned his head, brushing his lips against Draco's cheek. "Do you, uh, do you want me to do you?"

Draco's fingers grabbed Harry's hand and guided it down to his hard cock.

Harry's hand tightened reflexively around it, adjusting his grip in a way that reminded him of wanking himself, hoping that what felt good for him, would for Draco as well.

His hand slid up Draco's shaft as the fingers of his other hand curled around Draco's hip and dug into Draco's side with a tight grip. Harry was happy to find that wanking Draco felt surprisingly familiar. Touching someone else's cock was completely different in some ways, but yet felt right in a way that Harry couldn't explain.

Thankfully, Harry's hand or mind, or both, seemed to know just what to do to make Draco feel good. A pleasured moan escaped Draco and his hands went up to Harry's hair, fingers sliding through with a tight grip. Draco pulled a bit too roughly, forcing a soft yelp from Harry. Harry tightened his grip on Draco's cock in response but it only seemed to make Draco moan even more.

Draco used his grip on Harry's hair to pull him into another kiss as Harry's hand continued to work Draco's cock. Draco whispered deliciously dirty things against Harry's lips as Harry wanked him.

"Next time I'm going to fuck you, Potter. I'll spread you wide with my tongue and my fingers and then bury my cock deep inside. I'll teach you to suck my cock. My come will be the first to grace the Saviour's tongue and then I'll let you paint my face again, marking me over and over again."

Harry's hand tightened and his strokes grew erratic as Draco's entire body tensed. Harry knew he was close, and he watched as Draco came undone, hips jerked forward, come spraying over Harry's hand and his head dropping into the crook of Harry's neck.

With Draco's orgasm and his come now covering his fingers, reality crashed back over Harry. He'd just had one off with Draco Malfoy in the Quidditch locker room and it had felt... brilliant. It had been hot and desperate and wonderful and he couldn't wait to do it again.

As wrong as it seemed, it had been oh so right and Harry wanted to experience all of the things that Draco had spoken of in their moment of passion.

"Next time, we do this in a bed, Potter."

Harry could do nothing but agree as he leaned in to cover Draco's lips with his own again.