Finally.
Finally.
Fucking finally.
Draco was eighteen.
Draco was fucking finally eighteen.
Eighteen and he doesn't have to listen to them anymore.
He's eighteen and from this moment on he's free.
He's going to move and live on his own.
Drink and smoke weed. On his own.
He's not getting the dark mark.
He's piercing his ears again.
And most importantly he's dating whoever the fuck he wants.
"Stop worrying." He tells his mother, sounding almost angry while placing the last box in his new flat.
"Don't tell me to stop worrying." Narcissa says firmly, glaring at her son. "I can do no such thing. My boy is moving away. At such a young age too, why don't you stay with us a bit more."
It's now Draco's turn to send his mother a meaningful look. He leans against the wall and sighs. "You know I'm not doing this because of you."
"I know, baby." His mother smiles softly, patting his shoulder before taking a step back. "Your father is waiting in the car, I better hurry. Take care, okay?"
"Yes, of course." He smiles back, following his mother to the front door. "See you." And the door is closed.
What now.
He kinda had all this planned. Move in, unpack, take a shower and immediately go out. Pierce his ears, get himself laid, preferably fucked. And then everything would fall into a routine.
Well he kinda missed this part.
No. No, he didn't. His mother did stay for a bit more than preferred but he can still fit all this in the little time that's left. He can and he will.
With a sigh he pushes off the door and goes to unpack his stuff. Only then does he release this won't be as easy as planned because he suddenly doesn't have anything. Barely no dishes, only one towel, some leftover aftershave and few shirts that are casual enough to wear out and about, that don't remind him of his father that is. Counting that as a lost, he goes onto the next point in his plan.
Take a shower.
Well, that sounds as simple as it can. He goes to the bathroom, undresses and only then releases all his toiletries are back in the bathroom where he threw them on the bed while unloading the boxes full of stuff.
He goes to get dressed before leaving for them but releases he's alone. With a smug smile he goes through the flat, completely naked. The smug quickly falls as he sees what his toiletries contain. Half used aftershave, a dirty soap, a deodorant and a brand new bottle of hand soap. Cursing himself out for not thinking about anything when moving in, he takes the few things and goes back to the bathroom.
He tried cleaning off the soap but it was no help as it was clearly old and covered in hairs that he neither knew or wanted to know the owner of. He throws the soap away. Looking at himself in the mirror he rolls his eyes, taking the hand soap and getting under the shower. "It's not that bad." He tells himself. "It smells like vanilla and coconut. Weird? Yes. But not bad."
After the short shower, he puts on the deodorant and the aftershave in the hopes of smelling even a bit nice.
Now that he can consider that done, not well done but done. He moves on to the next phase. Piercings.
He considers this the easiest one. His ears still have holes from when he got earrings back in Hogwarts, when he was feeling rebellious. His parents, of course, made him take them out but he made sure not to let the holes close.
After rummaging through his jewellery he finds the one pair he owns, small emerald earrings. Sure, he was a rebellion but he was still a Slytherin so he, acting all high and important, got his house colour.
He seals the earrings in and checks them off his mental list.
Only then does he release that the next phase is "get laid.". "Who even made this list?" He thinks, knowing full well it was him but stil cursing the 'unknown' person out. He looks through the 5 decent shirts he has and figures he should settle for the slightly see through, white one. He pairs it with black pants, figuring he can't go wrong with a combination like that. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of the shirt, he puts on some more jewellery and stands in front of the mirror.
Yes, the outfit is good. It's nice and looks good but Draco is the problem. The move has clearly been exhausting since his hair is everywhere even after it was combed, he's got eye bags and his hands feel like everything but soft. With a sigh he puts on his sneakers and heads out.
Soon after he finds himself at the club. The loud music is banging in his ears as he gets to the bar. Sitting on a barstool he gets a glass of whiskey and relaxes for the first time in the last few days. Not even a few sips of the whiskey in, the relaxation is cut short as a familiar voice speaks up next to him. He turns around and sees nobody else but Harry Potter. The same Harry Potter that he spent all his school years hating.
Since the war the other boy has changed, he says that after facing the end so close up he released life is too short to not do anything and everything you want. The boy got tattoos and piercings, learned to play guitar, he started experimenting with makeup and by the end of school he broke up with the Weasley girl. Ever since the newspaper has been reporting pictures of him with a new men and/or woman every other week. He has even adopted a nickname Fuckboy Potter.
"You pierced your ears." Fuckboy Potter says and Draco nods, his eyes stuck on the other man's appearance. Potter is wearing leather jeans, a nirvana t-shirt and has eyeliner on. And this, aside from showing Draco that the boy can look good when he has decent clothes, shows Draco that living with Sirius has clearly helped Harry fix up his fashion. He knows from his mother stories that Sirius has always took care of his appearance and he's sure that even with the fact he and Remus got married, the man has found time to criticize his godson's wardrobe. "Suits you."
"Thanks." Draco says, chuckling as he comes back from his thoughts. "The eyeliner," Draco points clumsily at the boys eyes. Have they always been this pretty and green? "It looks nice." For Merlin's sake what is he doing? Telling Potter of all people that eyeliner looks good on him. Of course he does, it's fucking Potter he gets told that hundreds of times a day. And even if he didn't, what is Dtaco trying to do? Flirt with him? No, it can't be that. Why would he flirt with Potter?
Why wouldn't he...
"Thank you, Malfoy." The Gryffindor gives him a charming smile "Your glass is almost empty. Do you mind I pay for it to get refilled?"
"Oh, Merlin, Potter." He laughs "That's the worst way anymore ever asked to buy me a drink. Just flatly say it, for fucks sake."
Potter chuckles with him, nudging their shoulders. "Alright, alright. May I buy you a drink, Malfoy?"
"Yes, sure." Draco says, not releasing what he agreed to until his, now refiled, glass clicks with Potter's.
One drink after another, their barstools seem to get closer to one another on their own accord. With his mind sloppy, Draco stumbles closer, taking a handful of Potter's shirt and before either of them knows what happening, Draco is kissing him. He's kissing Potter in a crowded bar with music banging in their ears and alcohol lingering in the air everywhere. He's sure that somewhere in the back is a curious camera capturing this moment to give it to The Daily Prophet but... He doesn't care.
Not anymore, that was the point. Right?
He doesn't care. This is no more than a mindless hookup, anyway.
"Fuck, Malfoy." Harry breathes against his lips "Come to my house. 's just 'round the corner."
Draco nods eagerly, watching as Harry pays the bill.
They get outside into the chilly air and suddenly the see through, light weight shirt he put on is way less than needed. Few meters into the walk he starts almost shivering but Harry, being somehow even more perfect, quickly puts his leather jacket over Draco's shaking shoulders.
"Potter, you don't have to."
"It's Harry and just take the jacket."
"Okay, Harry. Thank you." He says, laughing as they get to Potter's house. Watching Harry unlock the door, Draco feels nerves building in his stomach. Maybe nothing else went to plan but he's getting laid. By Harry of all people but he is nonetheless.
When inside Harry pulls him in another kiss, this one much slower and more intimate. Harry bites his lip and makes him moan.
"Bedroom's upstairs." He whispers into Draco's mouth before pulling back and saying. "Sorry, would you like to drink something first or..."
Draco shakes his head, sneaking his hand into Harry's and tugging him towards the stairs. "Bedroom's fine."
"Alright."
The house is big, Draco notices. Like the Malfoy Manor was but only this feels homely, lived and loved in. As they climb the stairs he can't help but look at the pictures framed on the wall, they're all full of people who are smiling and laughing, a lot of them are visibly old. He thinks some might even be of Harry's parents themselves.
"Come on." Harry leads him towards the bedroom. As soon as they're inside Draco is pushed against a wall as delicate red lips move against his neck. They pull apart for a moment so Harry can turn on the light. As a warm yellowish glow goes through the room Draco feels like he's invading something and like he shouldn't be here because this feels so lovely. The room, while it's muggle looking and full of what his father would call "pointless decoration.", is so nice and soft and warm and-
"You alright?" Harry's voice drives him back to reality.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He shrugs it off putting his hands on Harry's waist and urging him closer.
"You sure?" Harry asks, being so tender and careful with Draco "You look like you're about to start crying? You've actually looked like that since we came into my house... We don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can wait or just forget it all together."
"No, no. I'm sorry, just a lot these days." Draco takes a shaky breath, overwhelmed with shame. "I want this tho."
"Alright." Harry's arms wrap around his waist, his lips pressed against Draco's neck as he adds in a mumble. "Tell me to stop any time and I will." Draco nods, unable to form a full sentence in his head, let alone to speak it out loud. Harry unbuttons his shirt carefully and throws it to the side, running his hands over Draco's naked chest and making him shiver.
Before he can even think straight he's laying on the bed with Harry on top of him as they snog. Harry's lips are soft but heavy against Draco's. The subtle beard he has is scratching against Draco's cheeks and that has no reason to make Draco as aroused as he is. The whole experience though, is just so new. Sure, he's kissed a few blokes before but it was just secret kisses stollen in empty corridors. And the times he had sex with another man were just quickies in the bathroom or an unknown person's bed. Draco always made sure to not know the name of the men he was with, it was easier to lie later on if he didn't remember that, let's say, 'Luke's' bed was comfortable or that 'Mike's' dick was big. They were all just a couple of faces mixed together in his past full of hiding. He slept with a few girls too, or rather forced himself to but it was just a hetero erotic play that Draco was a soulless actor in.
But this.
This was nothing like any of those experiences. It could be the way Harry looks at him, the way his voice is so low and sexy when he whispers against Draco's skin, maybe it's even the obvious sexual tension that was between the two of them for years. But just the way how careful Harry is while unbuttoning his pants, is almost enough to make Draco get on his knees and beg for something more, anything.
"What's your preference?" He hears the darker skinned boy whisper as he kisses down Draco's chest.
"What?" Draco hears himself whispering, way too gone to think for a moment and release what Harry is talking about.
"Top or Bottom." Harry says, sitting up on his knees between Draco's legs and discharging his own t-shirt. "We don't have to do that if you prefer not to, maybe we could-
"Harry, do you seriously think I could have a body like this and top?" He smirks, gaining confidence from an unknown source and showing Harry he's still he same cocky bastard he was in school. He leans in and whispers against Potter's mouth, catching him completely of guard. "Have you seen my collar bones, Harry? My waist? Most importantly my arse? I know you're not that blind. You can't think I have an ass like this and top."
"I saw it." He hears Harry whispers and raises an eyebrow.
"I didn't quite catch that."
"I saw your ass, Draco. I fucking drooled over it for years. Have you seen it? It's the most perfect ass that I could only have in my wet dreams." Harry's hands are now on his hips, squeezing hard enough it'll surely leave marks. "Now get out of these pants before I rip them of off you."
Draco nods, feeling dizzy as he waits for Harry to move before pushing his pants off and throwing them somewhere in the room. Harry gets back between his parted legs and leans down to kiss him, as he whispers praises into Dracos mouth. Because of course Potter somehow knows Draco has a thing for praise.
The mix of Harry's lips and hands on him, combined with the soft praises is driving Draco absolutely mad so by the time Harry takes of his own pants, Draco is long gone and moaning at the smallest thing.
"You're so desperate." The boy, or rather the man, above him smugly says as he throws his pants to the side, leaning down and kissing Draco. "It's cute." He whispers, making Draco blush. "Aww, your blushing." He says as he start placing kisses on Draco's jaw and down to his neck.
"Fuck off, Potter." Draco whispers, hating the effect this is having on him. Harry smirks against his skin and starts to move his kisses lower, kissing down Draco's pale chest and abs.
"I intend to." The boy whispers in a cocky tone but before the Slytherin can replay something smug, Harry whispers something against his skin and an unintended moan leaves Draco as he feels his hole lubricated and stretched.
"What the fuck, Potter? Wandless magic?" He asks in disbelief looking down at Potter, who's head is now lever with Draco's V-line and almost, just almost where Draco would like it to be.
"Really, Malfoy? That's what you're focused on?" Harry asks back, having the audacity to look up at Draco like this is more than a one time hookup. "Because if you are, I quite frankly must not be doing a good enough job?" The bastard raises an eyebrow at Draco, making his already blushing skin, go even redder. Draco lets himself fall back onto the bed so he doesn't have to look at Potter, right in front of his cock. While he does this he mumbles something about how Harry is actually doing a good job.
"What was that, baby?" Harry asks with a cocky smile, dipping two fingers under the waistband of the blondie's boxers.
"I said you were doing a good job." Draco mumbles, this time high enough for Harry to hear him.
"Just good?"
"Fucking amazing, Potter. Please continue." He smugly says
"That's more like it." Harry says with a smirk as he pulls down the tight black, embarrassingly wet, boxers.
He wraps a soft hand around Draco's length and strokes slowly, testing the waters. He circles his thumb around the tip, getting motivated by all the moans coming from above and wrapping his lips around the swollen tip. As he bobs his head down, earning a high pitched moan, one of his hands moves lower to test and see how well the spell from before worked. Two of his fingers slip in easily and when he sees he can immediately add another one, he pushes it in as he bobs his head, making Draco's world spin in crazy rollercoasters.
"So good for me." He whispers, it didn't take him long to figure out the longest moans come after a praise. How fit, Malfoy has a praise kink. He pushes his fingers a bit deeper, finding the pale boy's prostate and poking at it as he swirls his tongue around the tip. At this whole act Draco moans and grips his hair. "So, so responsive." He tells the mess on his bed, that was at some point Draco Malfoy, in between bobs of his head.
"Potter..." the Slytherin whines "I can take you... please."
"Well, now that you beg so nicely..."
"Just do it already!" Draco says with way more anger in his voice than intended, getting very frustrated and needy. This is just a hookup, why is Harry making it so sensual?
"Merlin, calm down. 'm just teasing." Harry has the audacity to chuckle down at him and pull him in a soft kiss. Out of those two, Draco doesn't seem to hate the idea of the second one.
"Please," he whispers into Potters mouth "I'll be good." Harry moans slightly, nodding and taking of his boxers.
He gets in between Draco's legs only to see the blond's eyes fully focused south. "What?" He asks with a chuckle, not having the smallest doubt in the way he looks and if anything, he expected Malfoy to be more confident in bed, like himself.
"Nothing..." Draco says, shaking his thoughts away and kissing Potter again as the other one positions himself at his entrance.
"You still okay?" Draco nods before remembering he needs to say it out loud.
"Very okay." He nods eagerly again, wiggling his hips. Harry chuckles, a big smile on his face. Their lips collide again, in a slow sensual kiss as Harry slowly pushes in. Draco's eyes fill with tears for God knows what reason. The sensation is amazing and Harry is anything but hurting him. Still just the slow and careful way Harry is treating him in, is enough to make him, even for just a second, forget this is just a one time thing. Harry's thrusts are slow and deep and his lips are soft and plump against Draco's neck and collar bones, making small noises leave the blond's lips every few seconds.
"Move." He whines, turning his head to give Potter better access to his neck.
"'m moving." Harry says back, smirking against Malfoy's neck.
"Faster"
He shakes his head, moving back to look at Draco. "I wanna enjoy the moment, enjoy you. You feel so good, baby."
Well, at this point that nickname might as well come to life and strangle Draco immediately because it's quite honestly driving him mad.
Another thing driving him mad is how Harry is treating him. He went out tonight to get a good, hard, free, and possibly emotionless fuck. Not this. Not this gentle and soft love making. Especially when it's with Potter. The only reason he wanted to fuck with Potter is because he assumed it would be quick, hard and cold... and well, because Potter is hot. But never in his right mind did he think Potter would whisper praise in his ear, kiss his neck, slowly fuck him and whipe his tears.
"You're crying." He observes above Draco, stopping momentarily.
"I am."
"Why?" Harry whispers, whipping Draco's cheek with his thumb. "Are you alright?"
Draco nods.
"I'm sorry. I'm more than alright." He says, chuckling and whipping his own face.
"Then why the tears?" He sounds so empathetic as he asks Draco this and his soft tone only brings more tears up.
"Just... Didn't expect tonight to go like this..."
He says, looking to the side but Harry quickly turns his chin back.
"What did you expect it to go like?" Draco shrugs and Harry... chuckles?? "Malfoy, I literally have my dick up your ass. The most intimate thing ever and you won't tell me what's bothering you so much you're crying?" Draco chuckles with him and, sensing he's on a good path and that he just needs to say one word to get the answers he wants, Harry adds "Tell me what's up, baby."
Draco's breath hitches and he nods. He takes a deep breath before speaking.
"I just-" he slowly says before starting to ramble "I didn't expect to see you tonight but you looked fine as hell and I couldn't resist when you asked to get me a drink. It was all just so cheesy, meeting again after Hogwarts and seeing eachother again, possibly sleeping together this one time to get the tension off. It's a fairy tale and you are my
prince fucking charming but only for this one night. I keep reminding myself that, I keep telling myself to not think about it but... But I'm thinking about it and y-you're special to me, Potter. I can't just... let this go after tonight. And now you're treating me so carefully and calling me "baby" and you're really not helping my delusions."
"This is only a one time thing?" Harry asks him. Because of course that that's what he does. He won't hit Draco for rambling about nothing like his father did. He won't scold him like his mother does when he doesn't do what's expected. But he won't reassure him like the house elves do either, because he doesn't have to. Not that any of those situations are similar to this but the point Draco keeps forgetting is that the person in front of him is Harry. And while their knowledge of eachother in some ways is as deep as a teapot. In other, more significant ones, Draco knows him and he knows that Harry is just as confused with what Draco just said as Draco is with his whole life.
Draco nods and looks away. Because he also knows that Harry Potter doesn't settle down. He's seen it in the paper that Harry has a new beauty with him every week. Because even when he does, it will be for some self collected auror. Because that auror will surely be a woman. Because even if nothing above is true. We're talking about Draco. And Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived-The Golden Boy, won't settle for Draco. Draco who is his school nemesis, who is a full blown mess with countless problems, who almost became a death eater, Draco who is a broken man.
"I don't think so." Harry says, as if unaware of the mess in front, or technically below, him.
"What?" Draco whispers in an unintentionally small and broken voice.
"This isn't a one time thing. End of story."
"Potter, that's-
"No." Harry says, not letting him finish. "I've liked you since 6th year and now that I have you in my bed, under me. Now that I can finally see this beautiful boy raw and vulnerable. Now that I've finally see how it's like to have you all for myself. Now, you expect me to let it go? No."
"Harry... It's- It's" Draco sobs, tears streaming down his face.
"It's what?" The golden boy asks, not understanding why Draco won't let them be a thing.
"It's not proper. We're two opposites!" The Slytherin insists.
"We're magnets, baby. You just have to let me in your field."
"What?" Draco asks, laughing because what kind of a connection is that.
"Magnets. The opposites attract, the minus and the plus attract." Harry explains, wondering how Malfoy never learnt that.
"I know that." He says, calming down his giggles. "It's just such a ridiculous connection." He adds, a smile staying on his face.
"See." Harry says, almost like he's bragging. "I knew I could make you smile again."
"Potter-
"Harry!"
"Fine. Harry," Draco says, still smiling. "would you really want to be with me or are you just afraid of getting blue balls?"
"I really do." Harry says before laughing a bit. Only, laughing makes him move a bit and even just that smallest bit of movement reminds them of their position as Harry's dick brushes Draco's prostate, making them moan a bit. "Shit," Harry says, taking a deep breath. "you want me to pull out and we talk about this?"
Draco frantically shakes his head, putting his ankles behind Potter's ass so he can't pull away. "Don't you dare leave. We finish this and then talk. I don't know where that conversation will lead but I want this."
"You sure?" Harry asks, still trying to be gentle.
"Yes, and I don't need the whole gentleman thing." Draco confirms, putting a hand in Harry's hair and tugging down so he can whisper right into Potter's mouth. "Rearrange me, Potter. I can take anything you give me."
Harry mindlessly nods, kissing Draco like he's looking for something deep down the blondie's throat. In time with that he moves his hips back and forth, dragging small moans out of both of them.
As Harry keeps on with his slow thrusts, Draco pulls away from the kiss.
"Is that really all you can do, Potter." He teases. "And here I thought you'd be good in bed."
"Fuck off. I am." Harry says, strangely vulnerable.
"Really?" Draco raises an eyebrow. "You don't seem to show me that."
Harry mumbles something and starts moving his hips in a different angle, it's just slightly faster but it's an angle he knows hits Draco's prostate.
Draco’s breath stutters and his head falls back against the pillow, but he doesn’t look away, can't look away.
“You’re getting there,” Draco says, voice just barely steady. “I'm still not convinced, though.”
Harry huffs a quiet laugh, his thrusts measured, each one pulling a soft noise from Draco no matter how hard he tries to stay composed.
“You’re such a liar,” Harry mutters, more amused than angry.
Draco smirks, but it falters as Harry shifts again, hitting that spot with maddening precision.
“Shut up and keep going,” Draco says, but there’s no real bite to it. His fingers ghost over Harry’s back, like he doesn’t realize he’s touching him at all.
Harry doesn’t say anything. He just watches Draco for a second longer than necessary, something weird and new flickering behind his eyes. Then he leans in and kisses him again, slower this time, almost careful. And neither of them mentions it. It doesn't match his thrust that speed up just a bit when Draco's tongue touched his lips.
The kiss lingers, not rushed like before. It's just lips moving slowly, like they’re both pretending it doesn’t mean more than it should. Like if they keep quiet, it won’t feel like this.
Draco breaks the kiss first, breathing uneven. His eyes flick over Harry’s face, almost like he’s searching for something, but whatever it is, he doesn’t ask.
Harry keeps moving, steady now, the rhythm pulling soft sounds from both of them—quiet, breathless, both desperate and deliberate. Like they’re both trying to memorize the feeling without letting it show.
When Draco comes, it’s silent but overwhelming, his back arches, his hands tighten around Harry’s arms, and he holds on just a second too long. Harry follows not long after, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck, breath catching as everything crests and falls away.
Afterward, they stay like that. Not speaking. Not moving. Just heat and skin and breath in the space between them.
Then Draco says, almost casually, “Took you long enough.”
Harry laughs under his breath, rolling his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
But neither of them pulls away.
The next morning Harry wakes up to a cold bed and fuck that bastard left. They feel asleep quickly after sex last night but after promising eachother a conversation, Harry really thought they would talk. He wanted to talk.
He stretches, putting on boxers and walking to the kitchen. There he sees what could only be described as a sight from heaven. Draco is sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a cup of dark black coffee without sugar, just like Harry knows he likes it, and smiling at Harry as he walks in. He's wearing one of Potters old shirts from childhood that used to be hideously big and is now just oversized. It's got a funny print so it's a rare one he didn't burn. The shirt covers just down to his mid-thigh, keeping everything modest but definitely being a tease.
"Good morning." Draco says, spinning around in the bar stool.
"Morning." Harry smiles, releasing he truly stuck around to talk. He approaches, stopping Draco's spinning and looking into his eyes "You didn't run away, I thought you'd..."
"I considered it." Draco chuckles "I just decided that whatever the conversation we have turns out to be, we will end on better terms than if I disappear."
"You want us on better terms?" Harry smirks, walking away to prepare himself some coffee too.
"I hope we do." Draco says with a hopeful shrug. Harry sits at the kitchen bar with him and watches Draco over the rim of his cup, not pressuring, just waiting. He’d said his part last night, after everything, voice low against Draco’s skin: I want to try this, if you do. He's not sure if Draco was awake for it, it was quite a bit after he heard the first soft snore, but he knows Draco heard him. Awake or not he had.
Now it’s Draco’s turn.
He doesn’t look at Harry at first, just stares into the coffee like the answer might surface there. It’s not that he doesn’t know how he feels, it’s that saying it makes it real.
He sets the mug down, fingers tapping once against the ceramic. When he finally speaks, it’s not eloquent or poetic. It’s clipped, almost defensive, like he’s bracing for rejection even though Harry’s already offered the opposite.
But it’s honest.
And it’s enough.
Harry nods, barely smiling, like he knows how much it cost Draco to say anything at all. They don’t reach for each other across the table, don’t seal it with a kiss. They just sit in the quiet again, but now it feels different, somehow warmer. Settled.
It’s not everything. But it’s a start.