FIC: Sugar [Harry/Draco]
Dec. 12th, 2012 08:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mini_festTitle: Sugar
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yeaka
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: Harry wants Draco’s... erm... sugar cookies. Frommarianna_merlo
Word Count: 3,300ish
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *Anal, M/M.*
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: My beta,y3llowdaisi3s, is so wonderful I could eat her~ <3
Summary: Harry eats Draco’s cookies, that fiend!
Harry checks the bathroom. He checks the bedroom. He checks the hallways, (both upstairs and downstairs) and he checks the living room, and he checks the basement. He checks every cupboard that a human being could fit into, and then checks the kitchen once more.
All of those places are empty, and Draco has, indeed, gone caroling.
Which he doesn’t believe for a second, by the way. Draco shouted it at him while he was in the shower, and he’d shouted back, ‘okay,’ because the surprise had caused him to get soap in his eyes, and by the time they were clear again Draco was already gone.
Apparently, caroling.
Bull shit.
Harry already checked the house, naturally, about ten minutes ago. But then, about three minutes ago, the house had begun to fill with an absolutely delectable, saccharine aroma. It permeated every square inch, until Harry was forced to accept that he could not ignore it, and inevitably wandered down to the kitchen. He’d open the oven to check – yes, sugar cookies – and promptly closed it again, because if he let out all the air Draco would kill him.
Draco would also kill him if he ate one. He said as much this morning. They’re having the in-laws over (never a fun experience) and the cookies are specifically for Draco’s parents, not you, Potter, so stop looking at them! Draco made it very, very clear.
But Draco is, apparently, no where in the house, and those cookies smell so damn good, and they’re making Harry’s nostrils and his taste buds go crazy. And come on, it’s not like Draco actually counted them, right? Right? Surely he wouldn’t miss one, just a measly, plain one, if Harry reached in and ate just one? The Malfoys would still have plenty of cookies left, and besides, they’re not coming for an hour or so, anyway. Harry’s stomach growls. And besides all that; he’s hungry.
It would be a much better choice, logically, to open the fridge, and take out any number of things that are not the forbidden cookies. But Harry’s stomach is stubborn, and only wants the forbidden cookies. Draco’s turned out to be a rather fantastic chef, and next to Draco’s body itself, there’s no better taste in the world than his delicious treats.
Draco’s delicious body isn’t here, so Harry figures he’ll have to settle for cookies. They’d probably be even better if he waited for Draco to get home, take them out, and smother them in icing and sprinkles, but Harry’s simply not that patient. They smell like sin itself, and it’s getting to his head.
Draco will never notice. Harry makes up his mind, and crosses the kitchen to get an oven mitt off the wall. He paces back and cricks the oven open, reaching in for the tray. He could just grab one cookie, but then the oven mitt might squish it, so it’s much safer to take the whole thing out. They’re all a delightful golden colour, and look perfectly ready, anyway. Harry leaves the oven on for when he slips them back in (and pretends that he never touched them) and places the tray atop the stove. He throws the oven mitt over to the counter, and tentatively picks up a cookie.
“Ouch!” It burns, and he jerks his hand away.
He blows on it and rubs the offended hand against his jeans, and then pulls his wand out of them. He casts a quick Cooling Charm, and tries again.
It still feels warm in his hand, and smells utterly delectable. Harry takes a good whiff before biting into it, and smiling stupidly at the mind-blowing-ly yummy sensation. It’s sweet, vanilla, and perfect. Absolutely scrumptious. His only complaint is that it’s rather small, barely half his palm, and it’s gone in three bites. He licks the crumbs off his lips and wipes off his hands again, wondering if he could get away with one more.
Just one more.
It’d be fine. It’d be totally fine. Harry eats one more, and it’s every bit as delicious as the first, and he tries to savour the taste. It’s absolutely blissful, and his eyes even close as he chews.
But then it’s gone too fast, and Harry thinks, ‘just one more.’
By the time Harry’s chewing on his fourth cookie, it’s rather obvious that he should take a fifth, because Draco’s already going to notice. And besides, Harry’s hungry. Maybe he can do a duplicating charm before-
“Harry!”
Harry drops the cookie in his hand, hovering right above his open mouth. It lands on his shoe and shatters into crumbs.
“I told you not to touch those!” Draco roars furiously, standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s dressed in a black turtleneck and black dress pants, and looks simply ravishing. In Harry’s defense, he would’ve much rather had Draco than sugar cookies. ...But Draco wasn’t here.
“...You went caroling,” Harry shrugs stupidly, as though that’s any excuse.
“Caroling?” Draco scrunches his nose, as though the very idea offends him to his very core.
Harry shrugs again. “Yeah, I figured you were lying.”
Draco’s cheeks go entirely pink, and his gray eyes are alight with fury. “I said I’d go see Carol!”
“Who?”
“Carol!! Our neighbour! The one next door with the obnoxious Christmas lights flashing all day long? My parents will be here in under an hour and I’d like them to think we live in a slightly more classy neighbourhood than where we evidently do!”
“Oh,” Harry says, lamely. “Did Carol take down the lights?”
“You ate my cookies!”
Harry looks helplessly back at the (now severely dented) bushel of treats. Then he looks back at Draco, and says, “I am really sorry.”
“You idiot! Now we don’t have time for a quickie!”
“What?!” Harry steps back with the force of this announcement. “That was an option?”
“Of course that was an option! I baked them early so everything would be ready and we’d have plenty of time – but you had to go and eat the stupid cookies, and now I need to use that time to remake them!”
“Wh-“ Harry’s hands shoot up in front of him. He gestures defensively in front of himself as he insists, “Draco, I would much rather have you than sugar cookies! I just didn’t think you were coming back!”
“I didn’t go anywhere – I was literally standing on our porch!”
“Well I thought you were caroling!”
“Potter, why the fuck would I go caroling?!”
Harry flounders helpless for an answer to this, even though they both know that there isn’t one. Rolling his eyes, Draco takes this opportunity to storm into the kitchen, and start fishing dishes out of the cupboards. Harry steps out of the way when Draco needs the drawer behind him to get a mixing spoon, and he opens the drawer so fast it slams into Harry’s back. Harry rubs at himself but doesn’t say anything – he’s in enough hot water.
“Er, I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he hovers behind Draco, who’s suddenly darting about for ingredients. He’s doing two things at once, waving his wand and setting eggs cracking, and trying to pour flour with his other hands. Harry watches the spectacle for a minute before cheering up a bit and offering hopefully, “I can help – it’d go faster.”
Rather than show any signs of relief, Draco snaps, “You’d better help!” and looks wildly around the kitchen. “Add two cups of milk and two cups of water – GO!”
Harry jumps like he’s back in Auror training, and starts following every one of Draco’s barked orders. Draco has him mix, and stir, and add sugar and add vanilla extract. Then he sets all the spells to wash the dishes, while Draco carefully pours out the batter onto a tray, in neat, tight circles. He dumps the old cookies (which he deems ruined) into the garbage, much to Harry’s distress.
When everything’s done Harry points at the oven timer, and gleefully exclaims, “Ha! Half an hour!”
“So?” Draco grumbles, while rolling his sleeves back down.
“So! We have time for a quickie!”
Draco’s head whips around, and he positively seethes, “Are you mad?”
Having just baked faster than he’s ever baked in his life, Harry feels very crazy. And wild. And very much like he earned his quickie, and rather than snap about out, he shakes his head and insists, “No, we have time! Don’t worry about it!”
Draco puts his hands on his hips and does a splendid impression of a snooty diva. “Potter, we’ve never clocked in at under forty-five minutes – how exactly do you expect to finish in half an hour, with time to straighten out and answer the door?”
Harry shrugs. “We’ll go fast! It’ll be fine!” When Draco doesn’t budge Harry resorts to whining, “Please!” Then he tries lowering his voice, and attempting to sound alluring. “Draco, you know I really want your-”
“-sugar cookies,” Draco grumbles. “You didn’t even wait for me to put the sprinkles on.”
Harry finally frowns. Sometimes Draco just can’t be reasoned with. Verbally, anyway. So Harry shrugs, and makes as if he’s going to leave the kitchen. He walks towards Draco dejectedly, and goes from Gryffindor to Slytherin in a split second. As soon as he reaches Draco he shoves his boyfriend into the hall, and Draco struggles to keep up, and Harry bangs him into the wall and presses their lips together. He puts one hand on either side of Draco, boxing him in, and forces a leg between Draco’s thighs, nailing him to wall. Draco’s mouth opens in surprise, but Harry swallows his gasp. Harry kisses him hard and unforgiving, grinding his skull into the wall and their crotches together. He slips his tongue into Draco’s mouth and tastes everywhere, every nook and cranny. Draco tastes like the gingerbread treats they had earlier, and a little like eggnog.
Harry parts them long enough for him to wiggle out of his jacket, but he keeps his leg holding Draco to the wall.
Draco wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and mutters, “Merlin, Harry! I told you we-“ But he breaks off in a breathy moan when Harry rubs Draco’s crotch with his hand, and it never takes long to tent for him.
Harry kisses the side of Draco’s cheek, and purrs in his ear, “It’ll be quick. I promise.” He rubs Draco’s sides as he says it, trying both to be soothing and to get a good feel. When Draco hesitates with an answer, Harry takes the opportunity to shove his tongue back down Draco’s throat, and Draco groans appreciatively into him. Harry grinds their bodies together, trying to flatten the air out of Draco’s lungs, trying to merge them together. The more Harry kisses him the more Draco weakens – his hands shake and his legs quiver. Harry keeps their lips together as he slides Draco slowly to the linoleum floor. The glass around their door is only on the upper half, and it’s crinkled decoratively, so people can’t really see through it, just shapes. This way Harry figures if he misjudges time the Malfoys are less likely to witness Harry banging their son shamelessly in the hallway.
Draco doesn’t seem to keen on this idea, though, when Harry roughly maneuvers him around, and shoves him on his back. He whines, “Harry,” worriedly, and clutches at Harry’s shoulders. Draco’s a princess, and doesn’t like to fuck on hard, dirty surfaces, like the table, or Harry’s desk, or the floor. But Harry’s perfectly happy to nail Draco everywhere.
And he purrs teasingly, “You don’t want to waste time, remember? No time to move.” And as he does it he settles in between Draco’s legs, parting them and trying to make them wrap around him. Harry rolls his eyes, but obediently helps undo his own pants. Harry helps tug Draco’s boxers and pants up his thighs, and presses down to rub his still-closed erection against Draco’s now-exposed one. Draco makes a keening sound and arches up into Harry, holding tightly onto Harry’s shirt. Harry kisses Draco frantically, and fiddles with his own zipper. He needs to get out right now.
As soon as his jeans are open Harry’s hard cock bursts out, already dripping in anticipation. But that’s what Draco does to him, and he wants to tell Draco that, and smear it all over Draco’s body. If only there was time. Instead he slips his hands under Draco’s ass, fingers trailing his crack probingly, but Draco whines, “Harry, no.” He sounds utterly breathless as he moans, “Th... there isn’t time... just use... use the spell...”
Harry keeps one hand under Draco, squeezing Draco’s pale cheeks, and begrudgingly moves the other to get his wand out. He grumbles a bit about it, because really, fingering Draco is a large part of the fun. But there’s no telling if the Malfoys will wind up coming early, and Harry taps Draco’s stomach lightly, muttering the familiar spell. Draco gasps as his insides are cleared, lubed up, and stretched, all those good things in one. Harry watches Draco’s face as it happens – Draco bites his swollen lip and rolls his head to the side, gray eyes half-lidded in lust and lashes fluttering. His blond hair is disheveled, and his bangs have fallen gracefully over his forehead. He looks debauched already, like he always does, wanton and taken. Harry tries to keep the smirk off his face, and tosses his wand aside.
He kisses Draco lovingly on the cheek before straightening up to position his cock at Draco’s puckered hole, pink and dripping, open and ready. He pistons in shallowly, and watches that beautiful ring of muscle suck in his cock, and he moans at the sudden feeling. It’s instantly intense, and no matter what spells he uses or how often they fuck Draco’s always tight, and so, so hot. Harry drops back down atop Draco before he press in more, wanting an armful of boyfriend when he does it.
Draco’s the one to lean up for a kiss as Harry slowly starts to push inside, and they groan into each other’s mouths as Harry thickly parts Draco’s walls. They squeeze deliciously around him, and seem to suck at him, greedily devouring his cock. Harry tries to hold back and be gentle, right until he gets to the very end. His balls fall heavily against Draco’s ass, and Draco’s ankles press down at the small of Harry’s back, trying to pull him in further. Harry grins widely, and groans happily. Draco’s so, so tight, and it’s glorious. He could fuck Draco all day; fuck the in-laws.
But then Draco makes a keening sound into his ear, and cutely wiggles his bum around Harry. The movement sends a shiver of pleasure up Harry’s spine, and he dutifully starts to slide out. Draco whines as he goes, but gasps as soon as Harry slams back in. When he pulls back he adjusts again, and tries a different angle. It never takes many tries – Harry knows what he’s doing, and knows Draco like the back of his hand. On the fourth thrust he finds that special spot, and Draco absolutely howls as Harry thrusts into it, tossing his head back and writhing on Harry’s cock. He clutches Harry’s shoulders tightly and moans, “Harry.”
From there Harry picks up a heavy pace, going harder and harder each time, and getting faster and faster. He makes sure to slam into that spot every time, reducing Draco to a bundle of whimpering nerves, and it’s always the hottest thing he’s ever seen, all over again. After a while he loses it, and can’t hold himself up anymore, he starts grinding Draco straight into the floor, leaning heavily atop Draco’s lithe body, and fucking him hard. He fucks Draco like an animal, brutal and harsh and mindless, and Draco takes it beautifully. He clings at Harry’s shoulders, and he tries desperately to meet Harry’s kisses, and he whimpers for more. Harry can feel Draco’s hard cock sandwiched between them, probably being rubbed off by the pressure, but can’t bring himself to move enough to touch it. He’s too busy holding Draco’s whole body up against him, and besides, Draco doesn’t seem to need it.
Draco orgasms first. He screams, ”Haaaarrrrrry!” as he comes, exploding between them and shooting all up their shirts. His ass spasms wildly around Harry’s cock, and it makes him sees stars, it’s so good. But he keeps fucking – keeps pounding into Draco’s tiny body – even as Draco shudders his release and collapses, satiated and sweaty and panting. Just as the last of his cum is spurting out of his cock the doorbell rings, and Draco’s spent, gray eyes open very, very wide.
Harry, however, keeps humping him.
“Harry!” Draco hisses furiously, voice lowered to a whisper. He pushes at Harry’s shoulders, but Harry just grunts, and stays heavily atop his boyfriend, grinding him into the ground. “Get off me - they’re here!”
“Just a sec’,” Harry grunts, and keeps going. Draco looks horrified, and Harry screws his eyes shut so he can picture Draco the way he was a second ago, ruined and scrunched up in pleasure. Harry nuzzles his head into Draco’s shoulder and deeply inhales his warm cologne (an early Christmas present from Harry) and still keeps fucking. The doorbell rings again, and Harry ignores it.
“Harry!” Draco sounds absolutely frantic at this point, and struggles vainly to push him off. This is sort of annoying to Harry, as it really only delays his orgasm.
“Shut up,” Harry hisses back. “I’ll stop when I come in you.” Draco whimpers, but quiets, and clutches desperately at Harry’s shoulders, legs tightening around his waist again. The doorbell rings a third time, and Harry keeps humping.
Harry almost jumps when Draco licks his ear, and half pleadingly-whines, half seductively-purrs, “Fuck me, fuck me hard and then come inside me, please. If you finish now I won’t even make you clean up, you can keep your cum inside me the whole time my parents are here, and as soon as they’re gone I’ll suck your cock, just please, please come in me...”
Harry bites hard into Draco’s neck, wanting to leave a bite, a mark, something his parents can see. He doesn’t dare look up at the glass around the door, to see if the Malfoys are peering in, because he’s still slamming into Draco’s tight ass and he has no plans to stop until he’s done – and Draco knows damn well that’s how their relationship works. The doorbell rings again.
Draco’s practically crying, and gulps, before starting to ramble out raunchy whispers in an attempt to make Harry finish. “Harry, please, fuck me harder, I want you to fuck me so hard, you know I love it when your big cock is in me...” Another gulp. “If you finish know I-I’ll strip as soon as my parents leave, and you can fuck me all over the house, I promise – I won’t wear anything for the rest of the night, and you can tie me over the coffee table with the tinsel like you said you wanted to do, and I won’t even whine about it... please, Harry, please come in me, or pull out and fuck my mouth, just come inside me, pleeease...”
Harry’s scream is muffled by Draco’s skin, and his orgasm rips through him with white-hot intensity. He slams it all out into Draco, milking his release, biting into Draco’s skin hard enough to bruise. He’s sure the Malfoys can hear the thuds of their fucking on the other side of the door, but doesn’t tell Draco that. He just shudders to a release, and waits a few second. A loud banging sound echoes down the hallway – angry knocking.
Harry rolls off of Draco, slipping out wetly. He tucks himself back into his pants as Draco shoots to the door, hopping to get his own pants back on as he goes.
Right before he wrenches the door open Harry calls, “Thanks for the... sugar cookies,” and drops his head back against the linoleum.
Author:
yeakaPairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: Harry wants Draco’s... erm... sugar cookies. From
marianna_merloWord Count: 3,300ish
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *Anal, M/M.*
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: My beta,
y3llowdaisi3s, is so wonderful I could eat her~ <3Summary: Harry eats Draco’s cookies, that fiend!
Harry checks the bathroom. He checks the bedroom. He checks the hallways, (both upstairs and downstairs) and he checks the living room, and he checks the basement. He checks every cupboard that a human being could fit into, and then checks the kitchen once more.
All of those places are empty, and Draco has, indeed, gone caroling.
Which he doesn’t believe for a second, by the way. Draco shouted it at him while he was in the shower, and he’d shouted back, ‘okay,’ because the surprise had caused him to get soap in his eyes, and by the time they were clear again Draco was already gone.
Apparently, caroling.
Bull shit.
Harry already checked the house, naturally, about ten minutes ago. But then, about three minutes ago, the house had begun to fill with an absolutely delectable, saccharine aroma. It permeated every square inch, until Harry was forced to accept that he could not ignore it, and inevitably wandered down to the kitchen. He’d open the oven to check – yes, sugar cookies – and promptly closed it again, because if he let out all the air Draco would kill him.
Draco would also kill him if he ate one. He said as much this morning. They’re having the in-laws over (never a fun experience) and the cookies are specifically for Draco’s parents, not you, Potter, so stop looking at them! Draco made it very, very clear.
But Draco is, apparently, no where in the house, and those cookies smell so damn good, and they’re making Harry’s nostrils and his taste buds go crazy. And come on, it’s not like Draco actually counted them, right? Right? Surely he wouldn’t miss one, just a measly, plain one, if Harry reached in and ate just one? The Malfoys would still have plenty of cookies left, and besides, they’re not coming for an hour or so, anyway. Harry’s stomach growls. And besides all that; he’s hungry.
It would be a much better choice, logically, to open the fridge, and take out any number of things that are not the forbidden cookies. But Harry’s stomach is stubborn, and only wants the forbidden cookies. Draco’s turned out to be a rather fantastic chef, and next to Draco’s body itself, there’s no better taste in the world than his delicious treats.
Draco’s delicious body isn’t here, so Harry figures he’ll have to settle for cookies. They’d probably be even better if he waited for Draco to get home, take them out, and smother them in icing and sprinkles, but Harry’s simply not that patient. They smell like sin itself, and it’s getting to his head.
Draco will never notice. Harry makes up his mind, and crosses the kitchen to get an oven mitt off the wall. He paces back and cricks the oven open, reaching in for the tray. He could just grab one cookie, but then the oven mitt might squish it, so it’s much safer to take the whole thing out. They’re all a delightful golden colour, and look perfectly ready, anyway. Harry leaves the oven on for when he slips them back in (and pretends that he never touched them) and places the tray atop the stove. He throws the oven mitt over to the counter, and tentatively picks up a cookie.
“Ouch!” It burns, and he jerks his hand away.
He blows on it and rubs the offended hand against his jeans, and then pulls his wand out of them. He casts a quick Cooling Charm, and tries again.
It still feels warm in his hand, and smells utterly delectable. Harry takes a good whiff before biting into it, and smiling stupidly at the mind-blowing-ly yummy sensation. It’s sweet, vanilla, and perfect. Absolutely scrumptious. His only complaint is that it’s rather small, barely half his palm, and it’s gone in three bites. He licks the crumbs off his lips and wipes off his hands again, wondering if he could get away with one more.
Just one more.
It’d be fine. It’d be totally fine. Harry eats one more, and it’s every bit as delicious as the first, and he tries to savour the taste. It’s absolutely blissful, and his eyes even close as he chews.
But then it’s gone too fast, and Harry thinks, ‘just one more.’
By the time Harry’s chewing on his fourth cookie, it’s rather obvious that he should take a fifth, because Draco’s already going to notice. And besides, Harry’s hungry. Maybe he can do a duplicating charm before-
“Harry!”
Harry drops the cookie in his hand, hovering right above his open mouth. It lands on his shoe and shatters into crumbs.
“I told you not to touch those!” Draco roars furiously, standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s dressed in a black turtleneck and black dress pants, and looks simply ravishing. In Harry’s defense, he would’ve much rather had Draco than sugar cookies. ...But Draco wasn’t here.
“...You went caroling,” Harry shrugs stupidly, as though that’s any excuse.
“Caroling?” Draco scrunches his nose, as though the very idea offends him to his very core.
Harry shrugs again. “Yeah, I figured you were lying.”
Draco’s cheeks go entirely pink, and his gray eyes are alight with fury. “I said I’d go see Carol!”
“Who?”
“Carol!! Our neighbour! The one next door with the obnoxious Christmas lights flashing all day long? My parents will be here in under an hour and I’d like them to think we live in a slightly more classy neighbourhood than where we evidently do!”
“Oh,” Harry says, lamely. “Did Carol take down the lights?”
“You ate my cookies!”
Harry looks helplessly back at the (now severely dented) bushel of treats. Then he looks back at Draco, and says, “I am really sorry.”
“You idiot! Now we don’t have time for a quickie!”
“What?!” Harry steps back with the force of this announcement. “That was an option?”
“Of course that was an option! I baked them early so everything would be ready and we’d have plenty of time – but you had to go and eat the stupid cookies, and now I need to use that time to remake them!”
“Wh-“ Harry’s hands shoot up in front of him. He gestures defensively in front of himself as he insists, “Draco, I would much rather have you than sugar cookies! I just didn’t think you were coming back!”
“I didn’t go anywhere – I was literally standing on our porch!”
“Well I thought you were caroling!”
“Potter, why the fuck would I go caroling?!”
Harry flounders helpless for an answer to this, even though they both know that there isn’t one. Rolling his eyes, Draco takes this opportunity to storm into the kitchen, and start fishing dishes out of the cupboards. Harry steps out of the way when Draco needs the drawer behind him to get a mixing spoon, and he opens the drawer so fast it slams into Harry’s back. Harry rubs at himself but doesn’t say anything – he’s in enough hot water.
“Er, I’m sorry,” he mumbles as he hovers behind Draco, who’s suddenly darting about for ingredients. He’s doing two things at once, waving his wand and setting eggs cracking, and trying to pour flour with his other hands. Harry watches the spectacle for a minute before cheering up a bit and offering hopefully, “I can help – it’d go faster.”
Rather than show any signs of relief, Draco snaps, “You’d better help!” and looks wildly around the kitchen. “Add two cups of milk and two cups of water – GO!”
Harry jumps like he’s back in Auror training, and starts following every one of Draco’s barked orders. Draco has him mix, and stir, and add sugar and add vanilla extract. Then he sets all the spells to wash the dishes, while Draco carefully pours out the batter onto a tray, in neat, tight circles. He dumps the old cookies (which he deems ruined) into the garbage, much to Harry’s distress.
When everything’s done Harry points at the oven timer, and gleefully exclaims, “Ha! Half an hour!”
“So?” Draco grumbles, while rolling his sleeves back down.
“So! We have time for a quickie!”
Draco’s head whips around, and he positively seethes, “Are you mad?”
Having just baked faster than he’s ever baked in his life, Harry feels very crazy. And wild. And very much like he earned his quickie, and rather than snap about out, he shakes his head and insists, “No, we have time! Don’t worry about it!”
Draco puts his hands on his hips and does a splendid impression of a snooty diva. “Potter, we’ve never clocked in at under forty-five minutes – how exactly do you expect to finish in half an hour, with time to straighten out and answer the door?”
Harry shrugs. “We’ll go fast! It’ll be fine!” When Draco doesn’t budge Harry resorts to whining, “Please!” Then he tries lowering his voice, and attempting to sound alluring. “Draco, you know I really want your-”
“-sugar cookies,” Draco grumbles. “You didn’t even wait for me to put the sprinkles on.”
Harry finally frowns. Sometimes Draco just can’t be reasoned with. Verbally, anyway. So Harry shrugs, and makes as if he’s going to leave the kitchen. He walks towards Draco dejectedly, and goes from Gryffindor to Slytherin in a split second. As soon as he reaches Draco he shoves his boyfriend into the hall, and Draco struggles to keep up, and Harry bangs him into the wall and presses their lips together. He puts one hand on either side of Draco, boxing him in, and forces a leg between Draco’s thighs, nailing him to wall. Draco’s mouth opens in surprise, but Harry swallows his gasp. Harry kisses him hard and unforgiving, grinding his skull into the wall and their crotches together. He slips his tongue into Draco’s mouth and tastes everywhere, every nook and cranny. Draco tastes like the gingerbread treats they had earlier, and a little like eggnog.
Harry parts them long enough for him to wiggle out of his jacket, but he keeps his leg holding Draco to the wall.
Draco wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and mutters, “Merlin, Harry! I told you we-“ But he breaks off in a breathy moan when Harry rubs Draco’s crotch with his hand, and it never takes long to tent for him.
Harry kisses the side of Draco’s cheek, and purrs in his ear, “It’ll be quick. I promise.” He rubs Draco’s sides as he says it, trying both to be soothing and to get a good feel. When Draco hesitates with an answer, Harry takes the opportunity to shove his tongue back down Draco’s throat, and Draco groans appreciatively into him. Harry grinds their bodies together, trying to flatten the air out of Draco’s lungs, trying to merge them together. The more Harry kisses him the more Draco weakens – his hands shake and his legs quiver. Harry keeps their lips together as he slides Draco slowly to the linoleum floor. The glass around their door is only on the upper half, and it’s crinkled decoratively, so people can’t really see through it, just shapes. This way Harry figures if he misjudges time the Malfoys are less likely to witness Harry banging their son shamelessly in the hallway.
Draco doesn’t seem to keen on this idea, though, when Harry roughly maneuvers him around, and shoves him on his back. He whines, “Harry,” worriedly, and clutches at Harry’s shoulders. Draco’s a princess, and doesn’t like to fuck on hard, dirty surfaces, like the table, or Harry’s desk, or the floor. But Harry’s perfectly happy to nail Draco everywhere.
And he purrs teasingly, “You don’t want to waste time, remember? No time to move.” And as he does it he settles in between Draco’s legs, parting them and trying to make them wrap around him. Harry rolls his eyes, but obediently helps undo his own pants. Harry helps tug Draco’s boxers and pants up his thighs, and presses down to rub his still-closed erection against Draco’s now-exposed one. Draco makes a keening sound and arches up into Harry, holding tightly onto Harry’s shirt. Harry kisses Draco frantically, and fiddles with his own zipper. He needs to get out right now.
As soon as his jeans are open Harry’s hard cock bursts out, already dripping in anticipation. But that’s what Draco does to him, and he wants to tell Draco that, and smear it all over Draco’s body. If only there was time. Instead he slips his hands under Draco’s ass, fingers trailing his crack probingly, but Draco whines, “Harry, no.” He sounds utterly breathless as he moans, “Th... there isn’t time... just use... use the spell...”
Harry keeps one hand under Draco, squeezing Draco’s pale cheeks, and begrudgingly moves the other to get his wand out. He grumbles a bit about it, because really, fingering Draco is a large part of the fun. But there’s no telling if the Malfoys will wind up coming early, and Harry taps Draco’s stomach lightly, muttering the familiar spell. Draco gasps as his insides are cleared, lubed up, and stretched, all those good things in one. Harry watches Draco’s face as it happens – Draco bites his swollen lip and rolls his head to the side, gray eyes half-lidded in lust and lashes fluttering. His blond hair is disheveled, and his bangs have fallen gracefully over his forehead. He looks debauched already, like he always does, wanton and taken. Harry tries to keep the smirk off his face, and tosses his wand aside.
He kisses Draco lovingly on the cheek before straightening up to position his cock at Draco’s puckered hole, pink and dripping, open and ready. He pistons in shallowly, and watches that beautiful ring of muscle suck in his cock, and he moans at the sudden feeling. It’s instantly intense, and no matter what spells he uses or how often they fuck Draco’s always tight, and so, so hot. Harry drops back down atop Draco before he press in more, wanting an armful of boyfriend when he does it.
Draco’s the one to lean up for a kiss as Harry slowly starts to push inside, and they groan into each other’s mouths as Harry thickly parts Draco’s walls. They squeeze deliciously around him, and seem to suck at him, greedily devouring his cock. Harry tries to hold back and be gentle, right until he gets to the very end. His balls fall heavily against Draco’s ass, and Draco’s ankles press down at the small of Harry’s back, trying to pull him in further. Harry grins widely, and groans happily. Draco’s so, so tight, and it’s glorious. He could fuck Draco all day; fuck the in-laws.
But then Draco makes a keening sound into his ear, and cutely wiggles his bum around Harry. The movement sends a shiver of pleasure up Harry’s spine, and he dutifully starts to slide out. Draco whines as he goes, but gasps as soon as Harry slams back in. When he pulls back he adjusts again, and tries a different angle. It never takes many tries – Harry knows what he’s doing, and knows Draco like the back of his hand. On the fourth thrust he finds that special spot, and Draco absolutely howls as Harry thrusts into it, tossing his head back and writhing on Harry’s cock. He clutches Harry’s shoulders tightly and moans, “Harry.”
From there Harry picks up a heavy pace, going harder and harder each time, and getting faster and faster. He makes sure to slam into that spot every time, reducing Draco to a bundle of whimpering nerves, and it’s always the hottest thing he’s ever seen, all over again. After a while he loses it, and can’t hold himself up anymore, he starts grinding Draco straight into the floor, leaning heavily atop Draco’s lithe body, and fucking him hard. He fucks Draco like an animal, brutal and harsh and mindless, and Draco takes it beautifully. He clings at Harry’s shoulders, and he tries desperately to meet Harry’s kisses, and he whimpers for more. Harry can feel Draco’s hard cock sandwiched between them, probably being rubbed off by the pressure, but can’t bring himself to move enough to touch it. He’s too busy holding Draco’s whole body up against him, and besides, Draco doesn’t seem to need it.
Draco orgasms first. He screams, ”Haaaarrrrrry!” as he comes, exploding between them and shooting all up their shirts. His ass spasms wildly around Harry’s cock, and it makes him sees stars, it’s so good. But he keeps fucking – keeps pounding into Draco’s tiny body – even as Draco shudders his release and collapses, satiated and sweaty and panting. Just as the last of his cum is spurting out of his cock the doorbell rings, and Draco’s spent, gray eyes open very, very wide.
Harry, however, keeps humping him.
“Harry!” Draco hisses furiously, voice lowered to a whisper. He pushes at Harry’s shoulders, but Harry just grunts, and stays heavily atop his boyfriend, grinding him into the ground. “Get off me - they’re here!”
“Just a sec’,” Harry grunts, and keeps going. Draco looks horrified, and Harry screws his eyes shut so he can picture Draco the way he was a second ago, ruined and scrunched up in pleasure. Harry nuzzles his head into Draco’s shoulder and deeply inhales his warm cologne (an early Christmas present from Harry) and still keeps fucking. The doorbell rings again, and Harry ignores it.
“Harry!” Draco sounds absolutely frantic at this point, and struggles vainly to push him off. This is sort of annoying to Harry, as it really only delays his orgasm.
“Shut up,” Harry hisses back. “I’ll stop when I come in you.” Draco whimpers, but quiets, and clutches desperately at Harry’s shoulders, legs tightening around his waist again. The doorbell rings a third time, and Harry keeps humping.
Harry almost jumps when Draco licks his ear, and half pleadingly-whines, half seductively-purrs, “Fuck me, fuck me hard and then come inside me, please. If you finish now I won’t even make you clean up, you can keep your cum inside me the whole time my parents are here, and as soon as they’re gone I’ll suck your cock, just please, please come in me...”
Harry bites hard into Draco’s neck, wanting to leave a bite, a mark, something his parents can see. He doesn’t dare look up at the glass around the door, to see if the Malfoys are peering in, because he’s still slamming into Draco’s tight ass and he has no plans to stop until he’s done – and Draco knows damn well that’s how their relationship works. The doorbell rings again.
Draco’s practically crying, and gulps, before starting to ramble out raunchy whispers in an attempt to make Harry finish. “Harry, please, fuck me harder, I want you to fuck me so hard, you know I love it when your big cock is in me...” Another gulp. “If you finish know I-I’ll strip as soon as my parents leave, and you can fuck me all over the house, I promise – I won’t wear anything for the rest of the night, and you can tie me over the coffee table with the tinsel like you said you wanted to do, and I won’t even whine about it... please, Harry, please come in me, or pull out and fuck my mouth, just come inside me, pleeease...”
Harry’s scream is muffled by Draco’s skin, and his orgasm rips through him with white-hot intensity. He slams it all out into Draco, milking his release, biting into Draco’s skin hard enough to bruise. He’s sure the Malfoys can hear the thuds of their fucking on the other side of the door, but doesn’t tell Draco that. He just shudders to a release, and waits a few second. A loud banging sound echoes down the hallway – angry knocking.
Harry rolls off of Draco, slipping out wetly. He tucks himself back into his pants as Draco shoots to the door, hopping to get his own pants back on as he goes.
Right before he wrenches the door open Harry calls, “Thanks for the... sugar cookies,” and drops his head back against the linoleum.
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Date: 2012-12-12 09:49 pm (UTC)So many wonderul pieces of this fic made me laugh!
It would be a much better choice, logically, to open the fridge, and take out any number of things that are not the forbidden cookies. But Harry’s stomach is stubborn, and only wants the forbidden cookies.
In Harry’s defense, he would’ve much rather had Draco than sugar cookies. ...But Draco wasn’t here.
Having just baked faster than he’s ever baked in his life, Harry feels very crazy. And wild. And very much like he earned his quickie
LOLOLOLOL! Oh, Harry :P He's so cute!
And OMG the Draco's dirty talk was SO HOT! I love that so much. Dirty talk like that is a real kink of mine, so thank you for including itt!!
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Date: 2013-01-07 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-12-13 09:16 am (UTC)I'm so happy Harry got his sugar *snerks*
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Date: 2013-01-07 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-07 03:59 am (UTC)The moment I saw this bit--- " He pistons in shallowly, and watches that beautiful ring of muscle suck in his cock, and he moans at the sudden feeling. It’s instantly intense, and no matter what spells he uses or how often they fuck Draco’s always tight, and so, so hot."
...yeah, totally called it :P
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Date: 2012-12-22 11:55 pm (UTC)Oh, boys. You are fooling no one. *giggles*
Very hot and (no pun intended) delicious! :)
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Date: 2013-01-07 02:32 am (UTC)*glomps*
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