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mini_festAuthor: ???
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Prompt: It’s Harry’s first Christmas as a vampire.
Word Count: 14000
Rating: Explicit
Contains: Vampire Harry, Veela Draco, First Dates, Christmas Eve, Explicit Sexual Content
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This was the best prompt ever, really! Thanks to my alphas and betas Kelsey and Mars! You guys saved me from having to submit a story I wasn't happy with. Your suggestions made this fic so much better. Love you loads!
Summary: Harry invites Draco, his new boss, who also happens to be a Veela, to spend Christmas Eve with him. It is supposed to be their first date and Harry wants it to be perfect. However, with him being a new vampire and not knowing a thing about Veelas, problems are bound to occur.
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GO BACK TO PART 1 ON LJ
Draco’s eyes lit up at the sight of the traditional english treat Harry had prepared, but Harry bit his lip, not laughing or saying anything, even though his tongue was tickling with desire to tease Draco about his earlier moment of weakness when he’d licked the plate. Harry put the puddings down, filled up their goblets with more mulled wine, and then they started eating.
The moan that escaped Draco this time was dangerously close to what Harry imagined he would sound like in the bedroom. It made him almost flinch in his seat as the sound went directly to his cock.
“Harry, your food, it’s—” Draco didn’t pause for effect or to think, he paused because he was chewing again, on another spoonful of pudding he had shoved into his mouth mid-speech, “—it’s making me wonder how in the world I’ll ever eat anything else again.”
“Is this Draco talking or the Veela?” Harry asked with a smile, knowing he was closing in on dangerous territory, but Draco didn’t even seem to care as he was so busy indulging in the pudding.
“Both. Definitely both.”
Draco continued to shovel while Harry decided to only eat a few spoonfuls so that when Draco was done he could offer him the rest of Harry’s portion as well. When Draco had finished his own dessert, he took hold of the plate again, but stopped himself, arms tense and face flinching.
“You really wanna lick that plate, don’t you?” Harry grinned and Draco nodded but he still didn’t move the plate closer to his face, just stared at it, one eyelid twitching. “How about you eat the rest of mine first and if you still want more I will excuse myself to the toilet and you can lick the plates clean while I’m gone,” Harry suggested. Draco looked at him then, his eyes shimmering with something that Harry thought was part gratitude and part… something Harry really wanted to be a sign that this whole Draco-doesn’t-date bullocks didn’t apply to Harry.
Because that’s what this meant, right? Draco having agreed to go on a date with Harry—on Christmas Eve, above all!—meant that, technically, he was alright with dating Harry. It meant that Harry was different than those other people Draco had rejected. Even if he wasn’t his one true love.
Harry felt a sudden surge of uneasiness again, as he watched Draco gobble up the second portion of Christmas pudding much faster than the first and then watched Draco lean back in his chair, looking at the two empty plates of pudding in front of himself.
“Potter, was this your plan? Make me eat so much so that I couldn’t run away?”
“Why would you want to run away?” Harry asked, though of course he knew that Draco was just referring to the fact that he had eaten way too much and was feeling rather full. Harry told him that he’d fetch him a stomach potion from the bathroom—and while he did, he tried to kick the unhappy feelings he was having in the butt. When he came back, both plates were licked clean and shiny again. Harry bit his lip to hide a grin but Draco caught him and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Don’t you dare make fun of me, Potter. This is all your fault in the first place.”
“How is you not being able to control yourself my fault?” Harry laughed in disbelief and put the potion in front of Draco who quickly uncorked it and downed it in a second.
“You’re the one who prepared a loving meal for a Veela. You know we are weak towards love and food. Especially sweets.” He motioned at the two dessert plates.
“Right, you said that before,” Harry remembered and sat down again. This time he felt like it was the right moment to ask, so he did. “Why would me cooking have such an effect on you, though?”
He was sweating nervously as he waited for Draco’s reply. Because maybe it would answer some of the questions Harry didn’t have the courage to ask.
Can you fall in love with me even if I’m not your one true love? Who is your one true love? Could you ever be happy with me? Can I become your one true love if I try very hard?
Harry was aware that he didn’t know much about Veelas. He’d only been working at the DRCMC for a few months and wasn’t even done learning everything there was to learn about vampires and their business. So obviously, he hadn't yet had the time to really get into other creatures. Veelas especially were still a mystery to him because there was always a lot of false information going around about them. Draco had told him in the first few weeks of them working together that he should forget everything he thought he knew about Veelas because it was probably a load of bollocks.
“Well,” Draco breathed and looked like he didn’t even know where to start. “It’s a little hard to explain when you don’t have all the information.”
“Do you have someplace to be?” Harry asked and put his forearms on the table, making himself visibly comfortable. He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t find out if they had a future. If Draco was even capable of wanting him the way that Harry wanted Draco. “I mean, you could just give me all the information now. I didn’t have anything further planned for the night.”
Draco seemed to consider how much he wanted to share with Harry, their eyes fixed on each other. Then one side of his mouth pulled up and he grasped his goblet before standing up and motioning towards the door.
“Let’s sit somewhere more comfortable.”
Rather surprised at Draco’s sudden willingness to share this with him but more than happy and relieved, Harry quickly lead the way to the living room where the fireplace was heating the room, shedding light on the cozy, red loveseat right in front of it.
Harry had completely refurbished Grimmauld Place since he’d turned. He’d had a lot of time after leaving the hospital, the time he’d always claimed he didn’t have to turn this always-gloomy house into a place he’d be able to call home. Also, there had been many changes he needed to make for his new
lifestyle
. One of them was making sure to shut all of the natural light out while keeping the place bright enough so Harry wouldn’t fall into depression due to the lack of light.
Vampires burning or turning into ashes in sunlight were of course, just like many rumours about Veelas, completely made-up and exaggerated. Harry could, like any other living being, look into the sun without immediately dying. However, in the long run the sun did hurt his skin. Vampires were generally advised to not spend more than a few hours outside or in a place with natural sunlight. The burns wouldn’t be pretty, so he had been told. Harry had yet to experience it.
“Who chose your furniture?” Draco asked, running a finger over the white faux fur blanket that was draped over their seating arrangements.
“Hermione,” Harry replied before pointing at the few odd-looking pieces of art, mostly sculptures of different kinds of deformed animals. “And Luna.”
Draco’s face flinched as he took in the noodle-shaped bunny figure Luna had gifted him when he’d moved in after Hogwarts. Everything else seemed to be to his liking though, and as he moved around a little more, touching picture frames that held the few photography he had of his parents and some of his friends, Draco said quietly, “It’s homy,” as if he was surprised that it was. Surprised that he liked Harry’s place. After he was done looking around, Draco let himself fall gracefully into the soft cushions of the loveseat. Harry copied him, delighted that Draco seemed to be feeling comfortable at Grimmauld Place. They put their goblets of mulled wine on the small table between the loveseat and the fire. As Harry looked over at Draco, who was still curiously glancing all over the room, he felt a warm kind of bliss fill him up so that it almost, but sadly not completely, covered-up the fear of what Draco could possibly be about to tell him. Harry’s foot tapped in scared anticipation, so he pulled it up to sit on it.
They were pretty close; there was maybe ten centimeters between Harry’s knee and Draco’s thigh, and Harry wondered what it would feel like to reach out and touch Draco’s skin. How would Draco react if he did, without warning? Harry wouldn’t dare to risk it, though. If Draco didn’t want to be with him for real, if they didn’t have a romantic future together, he didn’t want to take this step with him.
So Harry kept his hands to himself, but not his eyes. He watched Draco finish taking in his living room before turning back to Harry, smiling.
“I can imagine it must be really lonely not being able to see your friends for such a long time. How have you been coping?” Draco asked and Harry was surprised at that question.
“It’s been hard,” he said. “If I didn’t have you guys at the DRCMC, I’d probably have died of loneliness by now.
“It’s a shame they haven’t yet invented a potion or spell that makes new vampires able to mix well with people.” Draco looked apologetic. “When I came into my Veela inheritance, I was so freaked out at all the smells and pain, I didn’t leave the Manor for half a year.”
“Pain?” Harry asked, brows furrowing.
“It’s quite painful for Veelas to be touched by people that aren’t family, close friends, or someone they are interested in romantically. Especially in the beginning. Whenever I walked through a crowd, I felt like I was being stabbed.”
“That sounds awful,” Harry said truthfully. “How about now?”
Draco shrugged and looked away. “It’s better now but it still stings a bit. That’s why I always wear long robes or long coats around Muggles. Less surface to attack.”
“I had no idea,” Harry replied, thinking of the times when he’d touched Draco’s arm or hand in a friendly manner and suddenly feeling awful for having been unaware of the pain he’d been causing him. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you.”
Draco smiled, a little distressed. “You didn’t. Actually, there is something I have to tell you.”
Pulling his foot a little more under his butt, Harry didn’t take his eyes off of Draco as he started to chew on his lip a little. Harry tried to keep eye contact but failed because Draco was looking around nervously.
“What is it, Draco?” Harry asked, worried. He reached out, wanting to put his hand on Draco’s to calm him down a little, but then he remembered that maybe he shouldn’t.
Or maybe he could, because apparently his touch didn’t hurt Draco?
Harry was at a loss, his hand held up awkwardly between the two of them. Draco looked at it, teeth still pressing into his bottom lip and his heel taping the ground until he suddenly reached forward and took Harry’s hand, entwining their fingers between their bodies.
Wide-eyed, Harry watched Draco’s nails bore between his knuckles, leaving crescent-shaped marks.
“This is what I was trying to tell you,” Draco said as if it would explain everything. He stared at Harry, waiting for his reaction.
But Harry… didn’t get it.
“You… want to hold my hand?” Harry asked, confused, but he still squeezed Draco’s hand in his because he didn’t want him to think that he didn’t like it. Draco, on the other hand, sighed.
“No, I mean that I can touch you without it hurting, and,” he paused and swallowed, looking intently at Harry, “you’re not my family and, well, we aren’t technically friends. So.”
“So?” Harry asked, not really getting what Draco was getting at and also a little sad to hear that Draco didn’t think of him as a friend. Harry thought that during the past few months they had grown very close. Even if Harry had thought of Draco as perhaps more than a friend, it didn’t mean that he hadn’t wanted Draco to be a friend as well.
“Merlin, Potter, come on.” Draco sounded annoyed but also desperate. “What did I just tell you? Touching people hurts Veelas but not when it’s our family, friends, or...?”
“Or someone they are interested in romantically,” Harry repeated, because of course he remembered what Draco had said literally less than five minutes ago, but it still wasn’t apparent to Harry what Draco meant.
Until, that was, suddenly Harry was very aware of Draco’s intense scent again.
“Romantically,” Harry said again and really looked at Draco, at his eyes flashing unsure. “Are you saying that
you
are romantically interested in
me
?” He asked, stating the question he now realised had been the obvious answer to this whole situation. To their whole relationship. To Draco spending Christmas Eve with him.
Draco was also interested in him. Despite Harry not being his one true love. Despite Harry being a vampire. Despite everything, Draco wanted to be with Harry.
“That’s what I’m saying, yes.”
“But,” Harry started. Draco licked his lips nervously, looking a bit uncertain at Harry’s reaction. “Since when?”
Draco paused and looked down at his lap before he said, “I knew for sure when you spoke in my favour at my trial after the war.”
“Your trial,” Harry repeated and then almost fell out of his seat. “That was ten years ago!” Harry shouted in absolute disbelief at the outcome of this situation. How could Draco not have not told him sooner?
In almost a whisper Draco explained, “I didn’t think you would ever want me back.” His voice sounded like it hurt him to say it. “I was convinced there was no way that you would ever be interested in someone like me. And then after I came into my Veela inheritance, I thought the only reason you could ever want me was because of me being a Veela. Because that’s why everybody falls in love with me! They don’t really want
me
, Harry. They want my pheromones to make them feel good.” There was anger in his voice now, as he squeezed Harry’s hand a little too hard for his comfort. “And especially with you, I wouldn’t have been able to take finding out that you only like me for that reason as well. Or even worse, be rejected by you. Which is why I never approached you first. Because rejection is hard on Veelas. It took me so long to get over you rejecting me during first year. I still hadn’t come into my inheritance then and wasn’t even interested in you but you so plainly rejected me as a person, it really hit a nerve. Took me seven years and a war to forgive you, after all.”
"So, you just—" Harry was at a loss for words. On the one hand, of course, he felt his insides tingle at Draco confessing his interest in him, but on the other hand it seemed like all of his worries over the past few months could have been prevented if Draco had just been honest with him. Nothing really mattered as long as they wanted each other. It didn’t matter if they weren’t destined to be together by some
one true love
Veela crap. For now, the only things that mattered were their potential feelings for each other, their intentions towards one another, and it seemed like they both wanted this, wanted to try being together.
Really, if Harry thought about it, maybe the two of them could have been a happy couple for years by now if Draco had revealed this to Harry sooner. If he had sought out contact with him sooner. If he hadn't let Harry’s unfortunate fate decide.
If Harry hadn't turned into a vampire and consequently started working at the DRCMC, would they have ever gotten together? Or would Draco have taken his secret to the grave?
"What about you?" Draco asked, throwing Harry off of his train of thought. "How do you feel? I mean, I'm pretty sure I know but it would still be nice to hear you
say
it." There was a smirk on Draco's lips but he was only pretending to be confident, Harry knew him well enough by now to be able to tell.
“Well, to be honest, there was always something about you that just made me go insane. When I think about it, Hermione and Ron have always claimed that I was obsessed with you, even while at Hogwarts.”
“Have they now?” Draco asked, the smirk spreading into a grin as he leaned his face on the arm he had slung around the back of the sofa. ”I did notice you were always staring at my arse when you followed me around during sixth year.”
Harry barked out a laugh. “You were so thin that year, there was literally nothing there to look at.”
“Lies. You still can’t take your eyes off me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your hungry gaze following me all around the office.”
Harry felt Draco’s nails press into his hand again.
He didn't really know what to do with the turmoil of feelings he was having. Was he supposed to be angry at Draco for keeping this a secret for so long? For playing him like that? Maybe. But Harry felt the giddy emotions starting to overpower all the negative ones, especially at the prospect of what else could happen between them. Today.
Squeezing Draco's hand back, Harry closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply, Draco’s scent filled him with calm—and a little bit of lust.
He heard Draco exhale in what seemed to be relief, before the Veela said, “I thought you’d find out that I want you immediately when I heard you’d been turned into a vampire. Because of the smell, you see.”
Harry’s eyes flew open, “So
that’s
why you smell so damn good! It's not your blood?"
“Veelas seclude pheromones to attract their love interest. Humans can’t smell that. Vampires can. It’s pretty common knowledge.” Draco laughed and then relaxed a bit more before he pulled their entwined fingers towards his mouth. “Remember the first time you came to our department? The first thing you said when you came through the door to my office was ‘
What’s that smell?’
” Draco sighed and Harry felt his hot breath against his cold hand, making his cock twitch and his mouth pool with saliva as he imagined what Draco’s breath would feel like elsewhere.
“Will you believe me when I tell you that back then I had even less of a clue about Veelas than I have now?” Harry joked and Draco chuckled, finally pressing his lips to the back of Harry’s hand. They were so soft and warm. A spark went through Harry's whole body.
“The last time I kissed someone I was 16,” Draco said and then his piercing eyes looked at Harry through heavy lids. His mouth moved against Harry’s hand, and he snorted. “And it was a girl. So, that was a disaster.”
“Parkinson?” Harry asked, out of breath even though they hadn’t even done anything yet. “I remember you were dating her for a while.”
“Yes, her. It was dreadful. She hates me to this day.”
“Draco,” Harry almost whispered then. He’d grown very very horny in a very short amount of time. “Why are we talking about Pansy Parkinson?”
“Because if I don’t distract myself, I will go completely crazy.”
“Then do,” Harry breathed and it wasn’t a second later that Draco pulled at his hand, hard, and Harry fell forward, their bodies crashing together, opened mouths searching for each other.
It felt like they were fighting rather than kissing and stroking. Draco’s hands were harsh on Harry’s body as he tore at his bow tie and braces to get them out of the way. Draco’s lips sucked on his mouth, opening and closing hungrily, and Harry felt sharp teeth bore into his lips. He gasped in pain but also pleasure because they were his Veela’s teeth and Draco was trying to devour him after having wanted him for years.
“Stop me,” Draco growled and his voice didn’t sound like his voice anymore, but there was a kind of urgency in it that told Harry that he needed to force himself to listen well. “Stop me now if you think you can’t handle me. I—” Draco bit down hard on his lip and Harry moaned out loud, feeling the nerve endings in his mouth tingle with pleasure as they recognised the bite coming from his love, “—I’ve been waiting for so long.”
And then Draco ripped, hard, one more time, and the buttons of Harry’s shirt popped off in all directions. Draco’s eyes turned completely black, the lack of icy grey almost frightening. They were pinned to Harry’s now naked upper body, his pink tongue licking his lips before he looked up at Harry, and Harry lost his breath at the intensity of his stare.
“My love,” Draco said, more like a moan, and it sounded like his voice was coming from somewhere far away. It made Harry feel like he was losing complete control over his own mind, his body screaming with the need to get closer, to touch, to fuck Draco,
his love,
until there was no doubt that they belonged together. That they were each other’s everything.
Harry only noticed that his fangs had extended when he opened his mouth to flex them at the sight of Draco’s pale throat after he had hurriedly undone the clasp around his neck and let his robes fall to the ground. Then Draco got up to step out of the rest of the clothes and though he was probably undressing in record time, seeing that he was wearing a many-layered traditional set of wizarding robes, Harry felt like it was taking much too long. But then, finally, Draco was naked, and as he stood beside the sofa, he touched his braid with one hand and pulled at the hair band, his thick silver hair falling into his face and across his shoulders, hiding the spot where Harry’s eyes had been drawn to up until now.
With the distance between them, the creature in Harry calmed a little and he was able to fully take in Draco Malfoy, naked, in front of him, waiting.
“Aren’t we going too fast?” Harry verbalized what the still-sane part of his mind was thinking.
He swallowed the salvia he was producing in mass at the sight of Draco’s perfectly pale, lean body. Not in his wildest dreams had Harry imagined that Draco looked like this—and boy did Harry dream! Imagination was all he had with Draco always wearing too many damn clothes, always wearing those frustratingly veiling wizarding robes that never revealed anything about his actual size or shape. How Harry hated wizarding fashion.
But he had been sure that Draco was hiding slender long legs and a sexy broad back underneath those robes, as well as a trail of silver hair leading down to his crotch and silver curls around his nipples. And, of course, defined hip bones that Harry had imagined grabbing hold of while pounding into Draco.
Harry had imagined doing a lot of things to Draco. He had imagined him in all kinds of shapes. But he hadn’t imagined
this
.
Perfection
.
“You don’t want this?” Draco asked with a soft smile. His expression didn’t fit his words. Harry could see it in his eyes, that the Veela in him already knew Harry’s answer before he could even say anything, that he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want you right now,” Harry whispered truthfully.
As if on cue, Draco stepped forward. Harry watched him, almost in a trance, as he set one knee after the other on each side of Harry’s lap and then sat down, completely naked on top of Harry, who was still almost fully clothed.
And then, Draco said, in that almost growl that made Harry wonder where the hell it came from, “Touch me”.
Harry instantly obeyed. His hands snapped forward to touch Draco’s sides and though it shouldn’t have felt like much to either of them, Draco’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth opened in a long moan.
“
More
.”
Harry’s fingers grasped soft, warm skin as he roamed his hands over Draco’s body, and he was sure he was leaving bruises. Nothing could stop him, though, now that he had his lap full of the man he’d been unable to get out of his head for months. Or years. Honestly, now that Harry thought about it, had he ever stopped thinking about Draco Malfoy? He had definitely been thinking about him those past few months. But if Harry thought back even longer, he could remember seeing his silver hair peek out from somewhere in the Ministry and wonder how he was, what had become of him, a thought he’d often taken home, pondered over while he was cooking, taking a shower, or while he’d been unable to fall asleep at night. Harry had wanted to check up on him many times; he’d even thought of reasons to approach Malfoy, get to know him for real this time. But something had always stopped him. Fear maybe. Fear of breaking the unspoken truth between them, of going back to hating each other. Because at least when they weren’t talking, Draco wouldn’t hate him.
"Harry, please, more."
"Where do you want me to touch you?" Harry breathed against Draco's mouth after he’d leaned forward to press the length of his chest against Harry's, both of them shivering at the first touch of naked skin against naked skin.
"Everywhere."
Harry stopped trying to hold back. His hands moved to Draco's soft buttocks and he squeezed, massaging both cheeks before dipping his fingers into the crack. Draco made a little whiny sound and arched his back at Harry's touch. He pushed his arse towards Harry’s hands, as if trying to make the tips of Harry's fingers slip farther between his cheeks, touch the ring of muscle that Harry couldn't wait to bury himself inside.
Draco was breathing hard against his lips and he looked like he was about to come even though Harry had barely touched him yet.
Harry had imagined this face so often, imagined fucking Draco until he couldn’t talk anymore, until he could only moan and beg for more. He’d tell Harry that he loved him and then he’d pull Harry down by his red and gold tie and smash their mouths together, their school robes tangled together on the floor next to Harry’s bed back in the Gryffindor dorm.
"I want to fuck you hard," Harry said and if he had been in his right mind, he would have been surprised at the dangerous tone of his voice. He’d never been like this, this needy. He had never felt such all-consuming lust. It almost reminded him of the feeling he got whenever he smelled blood: in danger of losing control.
By biting down on Draco's lip, sucking it into his mouth and pulling away again, Harry forced himself to concentrate on holding back the wild images that were popping up in his mind. Of fucking Draco until he screamed. Of biting at that pretty little neck, of piercing his fangs into his carotid. Of sucking and sucking until—
dangerous territory.
Harry moved down, leaving kisses and licks on Draco's chest until he reached the left perky nipple and started licking at it with the tip of his tongue. "I want to hear you scream." He bit down then, and Draco shouted, his fingers pulling on Harry’s hair.
"Yeesss," Draco whimpered, enjoying Harry’s ministrations visibly as he let his head fall back again and tears formed at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. "More, Harry. I need more." Draco reached around his body then with one hand, taking Harry's fingers between his and guiding them so they finally touched his puckered entrance.
He’d imagined this so many times, sinking his fingers into Draco’s hole as he’d pulled himself off in the locker room showers after Quidditch. He’d leaned against the wall, one hand working his cock, the other slipping between his cheeks, imagining that he was feeling Draco up instead of himself, curling his fingertips against Draco’s prostate, making him moan against his neck as he leaned against him, coming hard against Harry’s chest.
Harry felt Draco's muscles relax against his fingertips and he used the opportunity to slip his middle finger inside Draco, up to the first knuckle, apparently completely unexpectedly, because Draco made a sound of surprise at the feeling and then moaned in approval.
Harry’s lips closed around the pink nub as he started stroking the tip of his finger against Draco's inner walls, surprised to find it a little slick and feeling it ooze out around his finger.
"Are you getting wet?" Harry asked in wonder, using some of the fluid to slip a second finger inside Draco easily.
"It's a Veela thing. Please don't stop."
"I wasn't going to," Harry purred and then moved his head to pay some attention to the other nipple.
As Harry fingered him, Draco began to rub his hard length against the bulge still trapped in Harry's pants. It frustrated Harry as he wasn't in a position to do anything about it, his hands and mouth busy pleasuring Draco.
"Let me." As if he could read Harry's mind, Draco opened Harry's trousers and pulled his pants down as fast as possible, letting Harry's already leaking cock jump free. "Oh, Harry.”
Harry pulled his head back at Draco's reaction and watched him stare down at Harry's penis in what looked like concerned wonder.
"What is it?" He looked down at himself, finding the head of his cock glistening pink, a drop of precum sitting on it like a pearl. Draco was staring at it, licking his lips.
"I want you. Right now." And then Draco pulled forward so that Harry's fingers slipped out of the loosened muscle of Draco's arse. "Help me, Harry,” Draco said, positioning himself above Harry's cock and holding it against his hole.
Harry did help by guiding the head of his dick in a better position and then he said, voice hoarse in anticipation, "sit."
Draco sat. Slowly. Like he’d done so many times in Harry’s mind, during the past few months, during the last years, since that first time Harry had watched Draco get out of the shower after a Quidditch match during their fourth year.
When Harry felt the first press against his dick, he almost came just because the sudden sensation of being connected with the person he’d been pining after for over a decade made him feel all hot inside, his cock twitching as the ring of muscle slowly stretched for him. Draco moaned and slid faster down and Harry couldn't help but rip his mouth open in quiet pleasure as Draco's warm, wet heat engulfed him centimetre by centimetre. It was so tight but still slippery and Harry knew immediately that he had never felt this good before, this complete.
"Ride me," Harry said in a low voice he didn't know he was even capable of.
Draco, who had had his eyes fixed on Harry's the whole slide down, breathed out a long and sinful, "Yeessss," before pushing himself up and then sinking down again.
Draco's arms wrapped around Harry's neck and Harry's hands came to squeeze his arse cheeks again, pulling them apart and squeezing them together around his own cock, leaving Draco's penis completely untouched. However, Draco didn't seem too concerned by that as he quickened the pace of his thrusts and pressed his open mouth against Harry's temple.
His mind filled with images and memories of his past, times when Harry had thought about Draco and then afterwards told himself that they were just fantasies and that they didn’t mean anything. But they had meant something. They meant that he wanted
this
.
Harry didn’t move at first, wanting to let Draco control the pace, but as his Veela rode him faster, sliding down harder on his cock as if searching for the kind of friction he wasn’t able to achieve on his own, Harry decided to finally start moving.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and then pushed with the soles of his feet on the carpet. Finally, in just the right position, he began pistoling his hips up and down, sliding in and out of Draco with such force that it made the other man scream and whine at once. It sounded like it was too much for the Veela, like he couldn’t take the speed or force, but then, when Draco arched his back and made a high pitched sound, Harry knew he was giving him exactly what he wanted.
"Yes yes yes," Draco shouted, clawing into the shirt on Harry's back. "There, don't stop, right there!"
Harry didn't want to stop, but he felt his orgasm approaching, and the twitching of Draco's muscles around his cock told Harry that Draco was about to come, too.
As much as he was trying to hold back, Harry found himself trying even harder to keep the pace up, chasing that indescribable pleasure he was starting to feel when he finally came.
Draco's arse milked him dry as Harry moaned out loud, shooting his load deep inside of his lover’s quivering arse. Draco came only a few seconds later, his cock still completely untouched but shooting streaks of white against Harry's chest.
Harry was still holding on to Draco when he fell back onto the loveseat. They both panted, feeling the heat radiating off of each other. Harry wanted to enjoy the moment, let his mind run free as he felt his love close for the first time in his life, but he couldn’t help but chuckle as he realised how long he’d wanted this and how stupid he’d been all his life, trying to tell himself that what he wanted didn’t mean anything. It had always meant something, Harry had just been too caught up in the drama of his life to get it.
It had always been Draco.
They stayed in that position for a while. Harry hadn't pulled out yet but he was getting soft slowly and it was only a matter of time until he would slip out on his own. Strangely, Draco hadn’t said anything yet. Instead, as they both caught their breaths, he felt Draco starting to shower his neck and shoulder with kisses again.
Harry let Draco do whatever the Veela in him needed for reassurance. He stroked his silver hair while Draco continued kissing his body, clinging to him so hard that Harry’s shoulders were hurting under his grip. But there was no way he wanted this to stop. Feeling Draco express his feelings in such a small, intimate way, caused Harry to do something he really hadn’t planned. At least not on their first date.
“I love you,” he confessed to Draco. “I always have.”
Obviously, not having expected this, Draco halted his kisses. His face was hidden from Harry’s view, buried into the crook of his neck. Several seconds passed with Harry waiting nervously for Draco to say or do anything, when Harry finally felt something wet on his skin.
“Love,” Harry asked a little flustered, “Are you crying?”
Draco was completely silent, but his body was trembling and what Harry had identified as tears were running down his chest now. Harry felt completely devastated. Maybe it was his newly born instinct to make Draco happy—which Harry knew was only natural for a Veela’s partner—or maybe it was just Harry not being able to take the thought that he had something to do with making Draco cry, but his heart hurt and he needed to do something, anything to stop Draco from crying.
“Draco, talk to me. Did I hurt you?”
Finally, Draco shook his head, before he pulled away a little, and said, “No, you didn’t. I feel wonderful.” Though Draco’s eyes were a little red and his cheeks wet with tears, he looked genuinely happy. “I just realised that the thing I’ve wanted since I was a little boy has just come true.”
Confused, Harry sat his hands on Draco’s hips again and said with a crooked smile, “You’ve wanted me to fuck you since you were a little boy?”
A snort escaped Draco before he put his forehead against Harry’s and chuckled. “Idiot."
Harry wanted to protest but Draco shut him up by pressing his soft lips against Harry’s, snogging him slowly and passionately. It felt so right, so wonderful, so peaceful. With the lust and the urgency having been taken care of, Harry felt like he was floating on clouds. Draco’s tender tongue against his, the soft touch of Draco’s fingers behind his ears, made Harry almost forget that Draco still needed to tell him why he had been crying.
Hating himself for having to stop this but also having to know what had caused his lover to cry, Harry pulled away, just a little. Their foreheads were still touching, two hot breaths becoming one.
He didn’t need to ask again, because Draco was licking his lips happily, beaming at Harry, and explained, “I wanted to be with my one true love.”
Harry felt his mind go blank for a second, shutting down at the sudden burst of happiness and love he was feeling for the first time in his life. It was an intensity he couldn’t comprehend, he hadn’t thought possible.
He
was Draco’s one true love.
Not in a thousand years had he expected to to ever feel this kind of love. The kind of love one could feel in the marrow of one’s bones. The kind of love you have for someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, someone you want to protect at all costs, someone you want to hold tight and never let go, someone you want to shower with love and kisses and only ever see them happy. The kind of love that makes you unable to even look at another person, to even consider breaking up, to go even a minute without thinking about them. The kind of love that will finally make you understand why so much bad shit has happened to you before, because one person can only have so much happiness and if they were to get
this
kind of love, only horror could balance it out. The kind of love that will have made going through hell worth it.
The kind of love that Harry had for Draco.
Draco’s intoxicatingly delicious scent suddenly made Harry snap back out of his thoughts and he gasped as a completely new wave of longing and arousal washed over him.
“What—” Harry started but when he felt Draco grinding against his hardening dick, he had to catch his breath, “—was that?”
“Sorry,” Draco moaned as he started to mouth at Harry’s neck again. “I just heard what you were thinking and it made me feel so much love for you.”
“Fuck, Draco, your scent makes me go completely bonkers,” Harry started, grabbing Draco by the arse again, about to suck his lip into his mouth, before he shouted, “What?”, and pulled back, the shock more intense than the arousal at that moment. “You
heard
what I was
thinking
?”
“It’s another Veela thing,” Draco said for the tenth time that day with a dismissive swish of his hand, and then the fucker ground down again and Harry lost his train of thought. “You really need to read up on Veelas, Harry. You’re now bonded to one after all.”
“Right,” Harry said, already delirious with lust as his nostrils filled with Draco’s pheromones, the word
bonded
making him urge for his partner in a primitive way. Growling, he let his fingers dip back into Draco’s wet heat. The Veela on top of him moaned in approval.
“Oh, wait!" Harry suddenly remembered once more and his head snapped to the side to look at Draco. Draco was looking back at him, half crazed with lust, half annoyed at Harry for stopping again. "I just remembered, you brought your work suitcase. But... if you knew that this was supposed to be a date from the beginning, what the hell is inside your suitcase if not work documents?"
Draco looked surprised that Harry’d think to ask that question at that moment. But he couldn't hide the mischievous smirk that took over his face when he said with a wink, "A change of clothes, of course."
