They appeared in the middle of Harry's bedroom, which he'd thankfully thought to clean that morning. Draco smirked.
"Awfully presumptuous of you, taking us straight to your bedroom."
"We could go downstairs for a drink, if you'd like?"
Draco snorted and reached for Harry's shirt, tugging him close. "Not a chance."
Draco's lips were devouring, smooth and hot and utterly consuming. Harry's body felt electric, every brush of Draco's fingers sending a flurry of sparks cascading over his skin. Harry shoved Draco against his dresser as they stumbled towards the bed, desperate to press himself all along Draco's body. Loose objects rattled with the impact and a pair of cufflinks rolled off the surface and onto the carpet. Harry didn't care, not when Draco was licking the inside of Harry's mouth with mind-numbing skill.
Somehow, their shirts ended up on the floor, and Harry's hands ran greedily over the smooth planes of Draco's chest. Time seemed to be skipping and jumping, rushing past in a blur before slowing down to a crawl, the thud of Harry's heart the only constant, an uneven metronome. Harry's fingers found the scars he'd left on Draco's chest so long ago, worn nearly invisible with the passage of time. The guilt of it had faded, too, now only a twinge of regret, coupled with a shameful pleasure that Draco still carried Harry around with him on his skin. The shoulders beneath his hands were broader, the stomach a little less firm, and the skin a little softer. Harry could remember the way Draco's twenty-year old body had felt beneath his palms, the tight skin and sharp edges. They'd been so desperate for each other back then, so young and limber and energetic, but Harry didn't want to go back. There was a new kind of hunger eating at his insides now, one that craved more than just Draco's body. He wanted this Draco, the one with crinkles around his eyes and half a lifetime under his belt. Harry liked that their bodies both bore evidence of their lives, that they matched.
"Bed," Harry croaked, when the need vibrating beneath his skin became too much to bear.
"Yes, okay, let's—" Draco pushed them towards Harry's mattress, tugging at Harry's jeans and his own trousers. Harry helped, hopping and stumbling and wriggling until they were both standing by the mattress in only their pants.
Harry's breath was ragged as he took Draco in, the sexily tousled hair, his heaving chest, the way his black briefs clung to his legs. He was already hard, the thick, mouth-watering girth of him stretching out the fabric. The sight of it made Harry want to get on his knees, made him want to mouth at the cloth until it was soaked through, before pulling it down and swallowing Draco's cock. But Harry's knees weren't what they used to be, and as much as he wanted to put his mouth on Draco, there was something he wanted even more.
Nerves singing, Harry slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of his own pants and shoved them down, kicking them off and away. Draco's eyes darkened. His breath hitched.
"Fuck, Harry," he growled as he stepped close, skimming his hands down Harry's sides. "You look…"
"Old?" he teased, only half joking. He knew how much he still wanted Draco, but part of him was nervous that Draco wouldn't feel quite the same. Maybe Draco would be disappointed that the body in front of him wasn't the same as the twenty-year old image of Harry he had in his head.
Draco's eyes flashed, and his gaze lingered on the sprawling tattoo on Harry's arm and shoulder. Harry's stomach somersaulted at the naked want. "You look even better than I remembered."
Harry felt his cheeks heat with a ridiculous blush. "Yeah?"
"Yes." Draco leaned forward and nipped at Harry's lips. His hand reached Harry's cock and firm fingers wrapped around Harry's shaft, making Harry shudder. "What do you want, Harry?"
"I want to see you naked."
Draco twisted his wrist and Harry gasped against his lips. "And once you get me naked?"
"I—" Draco's hand continued moving over him, making his legs feel as shaky as a newborn Abraxan's. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, but he knew Draco was waiting with his smoldering eyes and smug expression. "I want you to fuck me."
Draco's hand stopped, eyes widening in surprise. "Are you sure?"
Harry tugged him close, slipping his hands down the back of Draco's pants and grabbing Draco's arse as he kissed Draco with an almost savage intensity. Of course he was fucking sure. It felt like he'd never been more sure of anything in his life.
"Just go slowly," Harry breathed when they finally parted. Draco blinked at him dazedly, and Harry added, "It's been a while."
"How long's a while?"
Harry's body flushed, but he refused to feel embarrassed as he broke away and slid back onto the mattress to stare up at Draco. "Twenty-five years, give or take."
Draco's entire body shuddered, and his cock throbbed visibly against the fabric of his pants. "You never...with anybody else?"
Harry shook his head. "Ginny and I tried a few times, when things got a little stale, but she didn't much care for it."
Draco's expression was all predator as he stripped out of his pants and crawled up onto the bed between Harry's legs. The sight of him naked and wanting above Harry made his very core light up.
"What about since you split up?"
"There hasn't been anybody. No one but you."
Draco's smile was possessive. It shouldn't have been as hot as it was but Harry's cock twitched anyway.
"What about toys? Fingers?" Draco asked, as he ran a single finger up the underside of Harry's prick.
"Usually—oh—usually that's too much effort for a wank. S'not as good if there isn't somebody with me, making me want it."
"Do I make you want it?"
Harry's chest was tight, his skin stretched thin to keep in all the want and desire filling Harry up from the inside. "Yes. Fuck, Draco, it's all I can think about."
With a careless wave of his hand, Harry summoned the lube from his bedside table. He held it out towards Draco, his brows furrowing at the strange expression on Draco's face.
"You're unbelievable," Draco growled, swiping the lube almost angrily and coating his fingers. "You don't even realise it, do you? Bloody infuriating."
Cool, wet fingers circled Harry's entrance, and he did his best not to tense up at the gentle pressure. He wanted this, even if his body had trouble remembering the steps.
Slowly, Draco's finger pushed inside, the pressure strange and familiar all at once. Draco let him get used to the intrusion, his finger moving with slow and steady purpose. It wasn't until Harry was pressing back against it, urging Draco to move faster, harder, that Draco slid a second finger inside of him. It stung as his muscles struggled to relax around the digits, but the pain faded quickly as Draco moved inside of him. His fingers rotated and twisted, and then pleasure was spiraling through Harry, spilling and tumbling through his veins as Draco rubbed against his prostate. Harry's legs splayed wider, his ankles digging into the soft blankets as he rocked himself down onto Draco's fingers, chasing the blinding pleasure. He barely even noticed Draco slipping a third finger inside, he was so lost in his greedy gyrations.
"Come on, come on, I'm ready. You can fuck me now."
Draco took him at his word, twisting his fingers one last time before slipping out of Harry entirely. He felt their absence keenly, as if missing more than just their physical presence, but the sound of Draco slicking his cock made the discomfort worth it. Draco shuffled forward, his cock brushing up against Harry's hole, but suddenly Harry wanted something different.
"Wait," he said, clamping his legs tight around Draco's waist, halting his forward momentum. Draco looked at him, a trace of worry in his eyes, and Harry grinned back reassuringly. "I want to ride you."
Draco's pupils blew, turning his eyes the colour of pitch. "Yeah, we could do that."
A couple of seconds later Draco was flat on his back, and Harry was straddling his slim hips. Draco's thick cock was hard between Harry's cheeks, and he couldn't help but wriggle down against it, relishing the slick catch of foreskin against his rim. Draco's hands dug into Harry's hips as he bucked up against Harry's arse impatiently.
"Yeah, yes, okay, give me a minute."
With shaking hands, Harry reached behind him and took hold of Draco's cock. He rose up on his knees and positioned himself over the slick head. Harry rubbed the spongy tip teasingly over himself a few times, gasping at the stimulation and the sweet promise of what was soon to come. Draco's jaw was tight, his fists clenched in the sheets in obvious effort to not to grab and take. Harry took mercy on him and began to slowly sink down on Draco's rigid length.
It was slow going. Harry rocked down in small increments, taking more and more of Draco inside with each pass. He could feel his muscles stretching, his inner walls expanding as Draco began to fill him up. The sense of fullness was even more overwhelming than he remembered, but it felt good, a kind of bone-deep satisfaction settling in with every downward press.
An eternity passed in the blink of an eye, and suddenly Harry's arse was nestled in the crook of Draco's groin. He let out a little trembling groan at the feeling of Draco's entire cock throbbing inside of his eager body. Tiny quivers of pleasurable shock vibrated through his muscles at the piercing pleasure of being so full for the first time in years, in decades. Harry stared down at Draco with wide eyes, the intensity and amazement of the moment mirrored in Draco's slack expression. Draco palms slid up Harry's thighs, dragging against his hair follicles as Draco's hands moved up towards Harry's waist. His eyes were clear pools of pure emotion, and Harry's chest expanded with possibility, with the knowledge that he wasn't in this alone.
Slowly, Harry began to move.
It was tentative at first, Harry raising up and settling back down, rocking and swiveling his hips as he relearned the rhythm. Draco let him experiment, patient and still as Harry unintentionally teased them. With age had come stamina, and Harry no longer felt that same burning need of youth to climax as quickly as possible.
It didn't take long for him to find the angle that made his eyes flutter closed and his mouth drop open in a desperate shout for more. White-hot pleasure licked up his spine, threatening to turn his bones to liquid. Panting, he began to pick up speed, his pulse racing as he fucked himself on Draco's cock over and over again. He moved until his thighs burned, until sweat dripped down his forehead and stung his eyes. When he began to flag, Draco took up the pounding rhythm, gripping Harry's hips and thrusting up into him with a speed and accuracy that knocked the wind from Harry's lungs.
Harry tried to keep his eyes open, tried to look down at Draco all sweaty and gorgeous, but the pleasure was near blinding in its intensity. The beginnings of his orgasm sparked hot and bright in his groin, and finally, he couldn't put it off any longer. With a long moan, he wrapped a hand around his cock, wanking himself as he rocked down into Draco's thrusts.
"Oh, God, oh, fuck. Fuck, I'm close," Harry gasped, breath stuttering with the force of Draco's fucking.
"Yeah?" Draco's voice was low and breathy. "You going to come for me, Harry? Going to make yourself come on my cock?"
Harry let out a garbled "Nnhgh" sound as he came, his cock spurting in thick drops all over Draco's chest. His release gleamed pearly white against Draco's skin, and the sight set the prowling monster in Harry's chest purring with possessive satisfaction. He slumped forward, kissing Draco's chest and throat while Draco continued to furiously pump his hips. It didn't take long until Draco climaxed, emptying himself inside Harry.
After several moments, Harry lifted himself off Draco's softening cock, wincing a little at the sudden emptiness and the slow trickle of come leaking out of his arsehole. Despite the burn in his thighs and the ache in his arse, Harry couldn't remember feeling so satisfied in a long while. He flopped back on the bed besides Draco, chest heaving as he came down from his orgasm.
"That was..." Harry trailed off, grinning helplessly up at the ceiling.
Draco propped himself up on his elbow next to Harry, looking rumpled and sexy and beautifully content.
"Yes, it was," Draco agreed. He leaned forward, his fingers coming up to trace the curve of Harry's lips. Harry tongue instinctively darted out to lick at the salty skin of Draco's thumb, and Draco's eyes flared hot, before his fingers danced away, leaving Harry breathless.
Draco's thumbs skated over Harry's cheekbones and down the curve of his jaw, a slow slide of fire across Harry's skin. Smooth fingertips ran down the expanse of his neck, turning his head aside and baring Harry's throat. There was something vulnerable and submissive in the gesture, in exposing his sensitive throat to Draco's devouring gaze. It sent an eager thrill running through him.
His heart pounded as Draco's questing digits moved on to his shoulder, outlining the familiar shapes of Harry's interlocking tattoos. Draco moved over the stag on Harry's clavicle, its antlers wreathed in lilies. He followed the silhouette of a shaggy black dog and a wolf playing beneath a full moon. Gentle touches mapped out a lion roaring at a darting snitch, a three-headed dog guarding the Deathly Hallows, and a pointed flower on the curve of his bicep with his children's names etched on the three petals. The fingers stopped and lingered over a small, black and silver dragon on the top of Harry's shoulder.
"For your escape from Gringotts?" Draco whispered uncertainly.
Harry's stomach flipped over. For the briefest of moments, he thought about lying, but he didn't want secrets between them. Not this time around. "That's what I tell people."
Draco was silent for a long moment, his voice rough as stone when he finally asked, "When?"
Harry took a deep breath. "A few months after you and Astoria got married."
"I—I'd moved on, but I hadn't really let go, not completely. Nobody knew about this hugely important thing that had happened between us, and it had all disappeared overnight, as if it had never happened at all. I needed an outlet." Things had been difficult for him and Ginny for the first few months after James had been born. News of Draco's marriage had hit Harry harder than it had any right to, and combined with a newborn son, and a recent promotion at work, Harry had been a bit of a mess. After a long, hard conversation with Ron and Hermione, he'd finally managed to pull himself together. He realised that he needed to well and truly put Draco behind him and start living the life he'd made for himself. That night he'd added the dragon to his collection, as a way to acknowledge his secret past, and move on with his future.
"He's beautiful," Draco murmured, his eyes and fingertips caressing the stretching dragon.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, staring up at Draco's blushing face.
"I—err—should probably get going," Draco said after several more moments gazing at Harry. His tone was questioning and almost reluctant, and hope fluttered like a thousand Golden Snitches in Harry's stomach.
"You could stay. If you wanted."
Draco's body stilled, and Harry's heart stopped as he waited for Draco to make his decision. After what felt like ages, Draco settled back down next to Harry like he belonged there. Harry's breath left him in a rush, every last bit of tension leaching out of him as he curled into Draco's side.
"Are you going to clean us off with that ridiculous wandless magic of yours?" Draco murmured sleepily.
Harry grinned a little sheepishly, realising that he was, in fact, quite sticky and uncomfortable. He concentrated and waved his hand, wriggling at the tingling rush of the charm sliding over his skin. Beneath him, Draco shivered with the display of power, and Harry felt a steady thrum of smug arousal vibrate through him. He wondered how long this feeling would last, this ability to become turned on at the drop of a hat by Draco's very existence.
He closed his eyes and draped an arm over Draco, letting Draco's solid warmth lull him to sleep.
Harry wasn't sure how long these feelings would last, but he hoped it would be a long, long time.
It took all of Harry's strength not to make any sudden movements as every last second of the previous night flashed through his head in brilliant technicolour. The restaurant, the incendiary kiss in the alleyway, Draco coming home with him, and then coming inside of him. Heat pooled in his belly, and he opened his eyes, taking in Draco's still sleeping form. He looked beautiful and vulnerable, his blond hair messy, the lines of his face gentled. Harry's heart expanded. Fuck, he wanted to keep this.
His stomach grumbled, and he was forced to drag his thoughts away from Draco and contemplate breakfast. Harry's body was definitely feeling the effects of their enthusiastic activities the night before, and a big fry-up would be most welcome. On the other hand, part of Harry felt hesitant to leave Draco alone. What if he left? What if he decided that last night was a mistake?
No. If this was going to work, Harry needed to trust Draco. Harry hadn't been the only one present last night, he hadn't been the only one who had wanted it. Draco had stayed because he wanted to, and he was still there. He could have left at any point last night, but he'd stayed when Harry had asked.
Doing his best not to jostle the bed, Harry got up. He threw on an old dressing gown, and with one last look at a slumbering Draco, headed downstairs to make breakfast.
Draco came down just as Harry finished with the sausages.
"We seem to be repeating history," Draco murmured as Harry served up their food on mismatched plates. Harry knew he was thinking of the first time they'd had breakfast together, when Harry had drunkenly kissed Draco and then promptly freaked out.
"With a different ending, I hope."
Draco smiled as he took a bite of eggs. "I like the sound of that."
"I wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise."
Harry settled in across from Draco, cautious happiness bubbling inside of him. "We should probably talk about things."
"I've been clear about what I want, right? I want to date you, for real this time."
"I'd like that, too. Of course, there are other things to consider. Do we tell our friends and family right away? Our children? You mentioned wanting to keep things out of the public eye for a while at dinner last night. How long do we keep things under wraps?"
"Well, James, Al, Scorpius, and Teddy all already know about our...past." Draco gave him a wide-eyed look. "They eavesdropped on part of our conversation in your office last autumn. Not the whole thing, thank God, but enough to realise that we have a past. The point is, I don't think they'll be surprised."
Draco let out a long sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that they were listening in. Scorpius has always had a talent for hearing things he shouldn't. I'm glad it won't be such a shock to them, but maybe..." Draco bit his bottom lip in thought before continuing, "Maybe we should keep things quiet for a few months, to see how things go. Part of why it didn't work between us before was the pressure of coming out. Most of the world still thinks you're straight, and we both know the Prophet is going to plaster the story of us dating all over the front page when it breaks. I'd like to give us a chance to be together before everybody else butts in."
"That sounds reasonable. Why don't we wait a couple of months until summer. If things are still going well, we can tell our kids and then start thinking about how to break the news publicly."
"Agreed." Draco's smile sent shivers of delight dancing over Harry's skin. "In the meantime we've got several months to become...reacquainted. Any suggestions?"
Draco's robe gaped at the collar, revealing his naked chest and sharp collarbones. It made Harry want to touch.
He grinned at Draco. Oh, Harry had ideas all right. He had plenty of them.