Aftershocks
Mar. 5th, 2016 06:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokifanTitle: Aftershocks
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry’s favourite time to finger Draco is right after sex.
Wordcount: ~1500
Warnings: light Dom/sub, light humiliation, dirty talk, fluff
Author’s Notes: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snowgall’s great prompt at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_kinkfest.
On AO3
Draco was making the most delicious sounds. With each thrust of Harry's cock he gave a breathless, helpless little moan. Harry's eyes slipped shut as he moved, shielding him from the sight of Draco's body arching, pale skin flushed by lust and marked by Harry's mouth. But those moans Draco was making still assaulted him, along with the soft hot skin of Draco's hard cock in his hand and the slapping sounds as Harry pounded into him and Draco shoved up into every thrust. Harry's free hand tightened in the sheet as he tried to control himself. He couldn't pull himself out of this rhythm if he tried, Draco's bliss was ringing in his ears, but if he could just – hold – on –
Draco's moans became a guttural cry as he came. Harry gave himself up to it and they shuddered through orgasm together. Harry kissed Draco's neck, mouthing at the slick skin with its scruff, and coaxed another little shiver out of him.
They lay together, panting and sweaty and incapable of higher brain function. Draco tangled long fingers in Harry's hair and tugged him upwards until their mouths met. It was full of teeth clashing and slurping sounds, a long and sloppy and probably deeply unromantic kiss, except for being the kind that came after eleven months of mind-blowing sex.
Harry shifted a little and managed to pull out without giving up his lovely spot on top of Draco. He did pull back enough to break the kiss, and to watch Draco's blurred grey eyes open and blink up at him.
Harry loved Draco's sharp mind and fierce competitive instinct. Yet they only made it better when Harry could do this, get to see this: Draco dazed by pleasure, his sharp edges softened, the mind briefly overwhelmed by the body.
And the heart, Harry might have thought, except then Draco would sense it and mock him forever. As if Draco weren't incredibly soppy sometimes. He'd spent a full three hours introducing Harry to the Malfoy portraits and earnestly requesting their approval, hand clutching Harry's nervously tight. When Great-Uncle Septimus had said no, Draco had conjured a bucket of turpentine and waved it until his ancestor got with the programme.
Harry smiled besottedly down at Draco and shoved two fingers into his arse.
Draco's eyes widened, a small sound escaping him. He was hot inside, and slick with lube and Harry's come. Harry just kept his fingers there for a few moments, enjoying being inside Draco once more. Even better was holding Draco's eyes while he did it. Draco's body tautened a little from its post-orgasmic lassitude, his breathing speeding a little. Harry grinned, exulting in the slightly nervous anticipation in Draco's face as Harry flexed his fingers.
Harry watched every twitch and change in Draco's face as he fingered him slowly. He held Draco's gaze, refusing to let him hide the prickling, oversensitive pleasure Harry was inflicting. Draco turned his face away, closing his eyes. Harry pumped his fingers harder in retaliation, and Draco tightened round Harry's fingers.
“Merlin, Harry, I can't... I just came, I can't deal with...”
“All right,” Harry told him. “Green, yellow, red?”
It was a sincere question, but there was an undeniable thrill in watching Draco's cheeks pinken as he was forced to admit he wanted this. “Green,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” said Harry, scissoring his fingers.
“Green,” Draco snarled, glaring. The glare collapsed into a groan as Harry slipped a third finger into him.
“See, there you are,” Harry cooed. “I know you just can't get enough of this, of me fucking you til you can't see straight.”
Draco laughed a little; the sound hitched as Harry nudged his prostate. “I never see straight, haven't you heard? When a hot man walks by I see anything but straight.”
Harry smiled. “But it's just me who gets to drive you out of your fucking mind.” He thrummed his fingers inside Draco. Draco's kiss-bruised mouth opened on a gasp.
“Celebrities,” Draco huffed. “You always say you're not but clearly you're getting big-headed.”
Harry wriggled a little, getting comfortable between Draco's thighs. Draco slung his legs over Harry's shoulders in response, easing Harry's access to his hole. His cock was hardening, looking almost painfully flushed. Draco tried valiantly to ignore this fact and Harry's smirk. Harry stroked him inside, finding the sensitive places he'd learnt through careful study. Draco made a soft sound, like biting back a groan.
“You're delusional,” said Draco. He sounded close to laughing, yet there was undeniable strain in his voice as he tried to keep it even, pretending that Harry's touch wasn't affecting him. “You think you're sooo sexy and dominant, but you're just getting nutty from all the wizards sending you pornographic fan letters. I always knew it. Helpless in the face of praise, that's you.”
“Funny,” said Harry. “That's how I think of you.” Draco looked outraged, but his retort dissolved into a groan as Harry pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm. “Go on, let yourself,” Harry told him. “I know how much you want this. You can't help yourself.”
Draco made an outraged noise, but his back arched uncontrollably as Harry worked his prostate. “You don't know what you're t-talking about,” Draco said, voice wobbling as his thighs went tight over Harry, his body curling in round Harry's fingers. Desire tightened Harry's throat as he watched. “I don't need this. I would do just fine with your molesting hands all over me on a regular basis.”
“Oh, it's okay,” Harry soothed. “I know what you need. You're mine, don't worry, so I'll give you what you need. You don't have to hide it.” Draco writhed on Harry's hand, twitching with every movement of Harry's fingers inside him. “I can feel your hot little hole all tight around me, you just want more, don't you?” he crooned. “Want to fuck me and get fucked, feel me all over you.” Draco was huffing for breath, straining not to react; Harry's own breath caught that rhythm as he felt Draco squirm. Draco's cheeks were stained red with embarrassment that just wound them both up more.
“I love doing this to you, you know? Especially after sex. You're all sensitive and open and hot for me, it's so...” Harry trailed off in the face of Draco's groans, how he quivered with Harry's words. He hadn't been lying; Draco so vulnerable to pleasure was a thing to be savoured, and watching him get wrecked by this sent lust thumping through Harry's blood. He finally took hold of Draco's cock, stroking it in counterpoint to his fingers inside.
Draco tossed his head, thighs quivering round Harry. Recognising the signs, Harry eased things down again; slowing his hand on Draco's cock, stilling his fingers inside him. He wasn't ready for Draco to come again, wasn't ready to give this up; watching Draco squirm desperately, helpless in the face of Harry's hands working him up or soothing him down, putting him through his paces with relentless pleasure.
Draco growled at him faintly, thumping his head back against the mattress, but didn't push. Harry's body felt overheated, his hair sticking to his temples from sweat though he'd barely moved in a while. He tried to distract both himself and Draco.
“So, d'you think the Tornadoes'll win their game this week?”
“Potter, what on earth are you wittering about?”
“Sorry,” said Harry with badly-faked innocence, “did you need me to be doing something else?”
Draco scowled at him murderously then flopped down. “Of course the Tornadoes won't win their game this week. All these years of Quidditch and you're – you're – still an idiot, d-did you forget their Keeper's still injured and the r-reserve is – ” He broke off on a groan. “God, Potter, you know that drives me mad.”
“What, you mean this?”
Draco gave a long moan that made Harry's mouth go dry. He kept rubbing at Draco's prostate steadily, other hand on Draco's cock. He couldn't have made himself stop, feeling Draco come apart under his hands, nonsense spilling from that kiss-reddened mouth.
He managed to leave off before Draco came, which was apparently the last straw.
“Potter, you bastard!”
“Ready to admit you fucking love it when I – ”
“Yes, but that's not – I can't take it any more.”
“What?”
“I can't take it any more!”
Harry removed his fingers, blinking. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” Draco pushed Harry down onto his back and straddled him. Harry laughed, thrilled by the sight of his flushed, wrecked boyfriend with his disastrously tousled white-blond hair. He lay back as Draco took hold of Harry's cock and lined himself up, and prepared to enjoy the ride.
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry’s favourite time to finger Draco is right after sex.
Wordcount: ~1500
Warnings: light Dom/sub, light humiliation, dirty talk, fluff
Author’s Notes: This was written for
snowgall’s great prompt at hp_kinkfest.On AO3
Draco was making the most delicious sounds. With each thrust of Harry's cock he gave a breathless, helpless little moan. Harry's eyes slipped shut as he moved, shielding him from the sight of Draco's body arching, pale skin flushed by lust and marked by Harry's mouth. But those moans Draco was making still assaulted him, along with the soft hot skin of Draco's hard cock in his hand and the slapping sounds as Harry pounded into him and Draco shoved up into every thrust. Harry's free hand tightened in the sheet as he tried to control himself. He couldn't pull himself out of this rhythm if he tried, Draco's bliss was ringing in his ears, but if he could just – hold – on –
Draco's moans became a guttural cry as he came. Harry gave himself up to it and they shuddered through orgasm together. Harry kissed Draco's neck, mouthing at the slick skin with its scruff, and coaxed another little shiver out of him.
They lay together, panting and sweaty and incapable of higher brain function. Draco tangled long fingers in Harry's hair and tugged him upwards until their mouths met. It was full of teeth clashing and slurping sounds, a long and sloppy and probably deeply unromantic kiss, except for being the kind that came after eleven months of mind-blowing sex.
Harry shifted a little and managed to pull out without giving up his lovely spot on top of Draco. He did pull back enough to break the kiss, and to watch Draco's blurred grey eyes open and blink up at him.
Harry loved Draco's sharp mind and fierce competitive instinct. Yet they only made it better when Harry could do this, get to see this: Draco dazed by pleasure, his sharp edges softened, the mind briefly overwhelmed by the body.
And the heart, Harry might have thought, except then Draco would sense it and mock him forever. As if Draco weren't incredibly soppy sometimes. He'd spent a full three hours introducing Harry to the Malfoy portraits and earnestly requesting their approval, hand clutching Harry's nervously tight. When Great-Uncle Septimus had said no, Draco had conjured a bucket of turpentine and waved it until his ancestor got with the programme.
Harry smiled besottedly down at Draco and shoved two fingers into his arse.
Draco's eyes widened, a small sound escaping him. He was hot inside, and slick with lube and Harry's come. Harry just kept his fingers there for a few moments, enjoying being inside Draco once more. Even better was holding Draco's eyes while he did it. Draco's body tautened a little from its post-orgasmic lassitude, his breathing speeding a little. Harry grinned, exulting in the slightly nervous anticipation in Draco's face as Harry flexed his fingers.
Harry watched every twitch and change in Draco's face as he fingered him slowly. He held Draco's gaze, refusing to let him hide the prickling, oversensitive pleasure Harry was inflicting. Draco turned his face away, closing his eyes. Harry pumped his fingers harder in retaliation, and Draco tightened round Harry's fingers.
“Merlin, Harry, I can't... I just came, I can't deal with...”
“All right,” Harry told him. “Green, yellow, red?”
It was a sincere question, but there was an undeniable thrill in watching Draco's cheeks pinken as he was forced to admit he wanted this. “Green,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” said Harry, scissoring his fingers.
“Green,” Draco snarled, glaring. The glare collapsed into a groan as Harry slipped a third finger into him.
“See, there you are,” Harry cooed. “I know you just can't get enough of this, of me fucking you til you can't see straight.”
Draco laughed a little; the sound hitched as Harry nudged his prostate. “I never see straight, haven't you heard? When a hot man walks by I see anything but straight.”
Harry smiled. “But it's just me who gets to drive you out of your fucking mind.” He thrummed his fingers inside Draco. Draco's kiss-bruised mouth opened on a gasp.
“Celebrities,” Draco huffed. “You always say you're not but clearly you're getting big-headed.”
Harry wriggled a little, getting comfortable between Draco's thighs. Draco slung his legs over Harry's shoulders in response, easing Harry's access to his hole. His cock was hardening, looking almost painfully flushed. Draco tried valiantly to ignore this fact and Harry's smirk. Harry stroked him inside, finding the sensitive places he'd learnt through careful study. Draco made a soft sound, like biting back a groan.
“You're delusional,” said Draco. He sounded close to laughing, yet there was undeniable strain in his voice as he tried to keep it even, pretending that Harry's touch wasn't affecting him. “You think you're sooo sexy and dominant, but you're just getting nutty from all the wizards sending you pornographic fan letters. I always knew it. Helpless in the face of praise, that's you.”
“Funny,” said Harry. “That's how I think of you.” Draco looked outraged, but his retort dissolved into a groan as Harry pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm. “Go on, let yourself,” Harry told him. “I know how much you want this. You can't help yourself.”
Draco made an outraged noise, but his back arched uncontrollably as Harry worked his prostate. “You don't know what you're t-talking about,” Draco said, voice wobbling as his thighs went tight over Harry, his body curling in round Harry's fingers. Desire tightened Harry's throat as he watched. “I don't need this. I would do just fine with your molesting hands all over me on a regular basis.”
“Oh, it's okay,” Harry soothed. “I know what you need. You're mine, don't worry, so I'll give you what you need. You don't have to hide it.” Draco writhed on Harry's hand, twitching with every movement of Harry's fingers inside him. “I can feel your hot little hole all tight around me, you just want more, don't you?” he crooned. “Want to fuck me and get fucked, feel me all over you.” Draco was huffing for breath, straining not to react; Harry's own breath caught that rhythm as he felt Draco squirm. Draco's cheeks were stained red with embarrassment that just wound them both up more.
“I love doing this to you, you know? Especially after sex. You're all sensitive and open and hot for me, it's so...” Harry trailed off in the face of Draco's groans, how he quivered with Harry's words. He hadn't been lying; Draco so vulnerable to pleasure was a thing to be savoured, and watching him get wrecked by this sent lust thumping through Harry's blood. He finally took hold of Draco's cock, stroking it in counterpoint to his fingers inside.
Draco tossed his head, thighs quivering round Harry. Recognising the signs, Harry eased things down again; slowing his hand on Draco's cock, stilling his fingers inside him. He wasn't ready for Draco to come again, wasn't ready to give this up; watching Draco squirm desperately, helpless in the face of Harry's hands working him up or soothing him down, putting him through his paces with relentless pleasure.
Draco growled at him faintly, thumping his head back against the mattress, but didn't push. Harry's body felt overheated, his hair sticking to his temples from sweat though he'd barely moved in a while. He tried to distract both himself and Draco.
“So, d'you think the Tornadoes'll win their game this week?”
“Potter, what on earth are you wittering about?”
“Sorry,” said Harry with badly-faked innocence, “did you need me to be doing something else?”
Draco scowled at him murderously then flopped down. “Of course the Tornadoes won't win their game this week. All these years of Quidditch and you're – you're – still an idiot, d-did you forget their Keeper's still injured and the r-reserve is – ” He broke off on a groan. “God, Potter, you know that drives me mad.”
“What, you mean this?”
Draco gave a long moan that made Harry's mouth go dry. He kept rubbing at Draco's prostate steadily, other hand on Draco's cock. He couldn't have made himself stop, feeling Draco come apart under his hands, nonsense spilling from that kiss-reddened mouth.
He managed to leave off before Draco came, which was apparently the last straw.
“Potter, you bastard!”
“Ready to admit you fucking love it when I – ”
“Yes, but that's not – I can't take it any more.”
“What?”
“I can't take it any more!”
Harry removed his fingers, blinking. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” Draco pushed Harry down onto his back and straddled him. Harry laughed, thrilled by the sight of his flushed, wrecked boyfriend with his disastrously tousled white-blond hair. He lay back as Draco took hold of Harry's cock and lined himself up, and prepared to enjoy the ride.
