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Apr. 9th, 2008 12:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dripping_cherryHope you all had a good Easter. I didn't, because I had to have a root canal on Friday and it hurt like hell all weekend. Here's chapter three of my latest fic. I haven't had time to check for mistakes yet, so feel free to point out anything that catches your attention. Enjoy!
Title: Snow and Sex in Switzerland
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Wordcount: 1,985
Disclaimer: Characters and HP universe belong to JKR and publishers. Loaded Questions is a trademark of All Things Equal, Inc.
Summary: A ski trip provides the perfect distraction for one broken-hearted Harry Potter.
But what will happen when he comes back to his senses?
“Harry Potter.”
Never in his life had his own name sounded so foreign. Harry looked from Hermione, who he was sure had gone mad, to Draco. Everyone had fallen silent; all eyes were on the blond.
“That’s correct, Hermione.” Draco said, avoiding everyone’s gaze. He sounded almost angry. Ron was supposed to read his answer next, but he’d apparently lost his voice.
“I’m gonna go to bed,” said Draco. “Hermione won anyway.”
It was true—once Hermione moved her piece, she’d be the winner. But no one was interested in the game board anymore. Draco stood awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, then…”
“Draco, wait!” Hermione called after him, but that only made the blond take longer strides in the direction of his room.
Once Draco was out of sight, everyone turned their attention to Harry, who could feel his cheeks beginning to burn.
“I think he wants you to go after him, Harry,” George said, winking.
“Oh hush, George!” said Hermione.
Harry was still so dumbstruck by what had happened that everything that was being said went in one ear and out the other. By the time he’d grasped the full meaning of what had happened, the next group had started playing the game. Everyone was talking and laughing, except for Ron and Hermione who were keeping Harry quiet company.
Draco being secretly enamored with him was the last thing Harry had expected. Such an idea had never crossed his mind. But now, as he rewound his thoughts back to the first time they’d met and replayed many of the memories he had of his interactions with the blond, from the time he refused to accept his offer of friendship to just earlier that day, as they took on the Alps as best mates, he saw everything from an entirely different perspective. They fire in Draco’s eye’s whenever they’d spat insults at one another, his constant obsession with Harry, the way he’d constantly, accidentally cause physical contact between them—unlike any of Harry’s other mates—it all took on a deeper meaning now. How could I not have known?
“So what do you think?” Ron suddenly asked.
“’Bout what?”
“Well… Draco.”
Harry wasn’t sure what he thought. “I think I need a drink.”
With that, he walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey. Just one, though. He didn’t want to get pissed. There was still something he wanted to think about…
He gulped down the burning liquid and headed off to his room.
In the privacy of his bed, Harry began to wonder if he shared Draco’s feelings at all. He had never thought of his friend in that way, but what if he did? Would I do anything for him? There was only one way to find out…
Harry closed his eyes. He tried to imagine what Draco looked like right now, lying in bed. Was he sleeping? What was he wearing? Harry imagined him wearing a pair of green silk pajama pants—he preferred to leave something to the imagination, at first.
He saw himself coming into Draco’s room, sitting beside him on the bed. The blond opened his eyes. “Harry? What are you doing here?”
But in his vision, Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in to press his lips against his friend’s. Draco was startled at first, but soon he relaxed, putting his arms around Harry and moaning into the kiss. When they pulled apart Harry looked down at him. The light of the full moon flowing in through the window, illuminating Draco’s fair skin and making his hair shimmer. He was stunning.
Harry felt a stirring in his groin. As he allowed his fantasy to progress, he brought a hand beneath the sheets to rub the growing bulge in between his legs…
*****
Draco felt awkward being in Harry’s presence after his secret had been spilled the previous evening. He did not stray from the group today, as he usually did, for fear of ending up alone with Harry. And that wasn’t a good sign. Draco feared that if Harry didn’t return his feelings—and he most likely didn’t, considering he’d never shown interest in men—then his confession would ruin their friendship. Damn that Hermione, with her stupid game and her Veritaserum!
When they finally returned to the chalet and everyone was planning where to go and what to do for the rest of the evening, Draco just wanted to be left alone.
“You guys go ahead,” he told them when they were getting ready to go out for supper and then dancing. “I’m not hungry.”
Hermione sighed. “You can’t avoid him forever, Draco.”
“I’m not,” Draco lied. “I’m just tired, and I need a nap.”
“Hurry up, Harry!” Fleur said to the brunet who was taking his time emerging from his room.
“I’m not going,” said Harry. Draco’s stomach suddenly turned into a gigantic knot.
“Well, if they’re not going then I might as well stay,” said Ron. “I hate dancing.”
“You’re coming, Ronald,” said Hermione, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door. Meanwhile, Harry had gone into the kitchen and was looking for a pot.
“You sure you don’t want to come, Harry?” asked Pansy, making puppy eyes at him, which suited her pug face.
“Yeah.”
“Well, see you guys later, then,” said Fred, giving Draco a wink. “Have fun.”
Draco felt as if he’d been paralyzed. If he ran after them now, it would be obvious that he was trying to avoid Harry. But he really didn’t want to be alone with the dark-haired man right now. What if he said something about the other night? What if he didn’t?
Draco picked up a skiing book that was lying on the coffee table and began flipping through it, pretending he was reading even though he could not focus on the jumble of letters covering the pages. He didn’t even have the patience to look at the pictures.
“You want some hot chocolate?” Harry’s asked from the kitchen.
“Sure,” said Draco, trying to sound bored while his mind raced to figure out how to behave normal when his heart was trying to pound its way through his chest and his stomach was turned inside out.
By the time Harry came into the living room, carrying two cups of hot chocolate, Draco had moved on to the Daily Prophet. He’d even managed to read a few sentences so that he’d have something to say when Harry came in. Indeed, the article was interesting, and if he wasn’t so nervous, it would have made him seethe with anger.
“Listen to this,” he said as Harry set down the mug of steaming liquid on the table in front of him. “New evidence suggests that the Phantom Thief, who is responsible for the disappearance of the ashes of three dangerous warlocks, who wrecked havoc in the wizarding world centuries ago, may be a member of the Ministry of Magic. On Monday, the Ministry received information from an anonymous source suggesting that the thief may be one of the Aurors leading the search for the stolen items. The Minister of Magic, Melville Blackwell, refused to comment on the validity of the source, but gave his assurance that the Ministry is doing everything possible to find the thief…”
Harry furrowed his brow. “Hmmm…”
“I can’t believe this! We’ve been searching for those damned urns since October, and now they’re accusing us of stealing them!?”
“They’re just trying to cause a sensation. Anyways, we’ll have to look into it when we get back, just to be sure.”
Draco tossed the newspaper onto the table and picked up his mug of hot chocolate, taking a sip.
“Good?”
Draco nodded. He suddenly got butterflies when he noticed just how close to him Harry was sitting. He looked into the fire as he continued drinking his hot chocolate in silence. He was glad that at least Harry was still talking to him.
“Is it true?” Harry asked.
“What?”
“What you said yesterday…”
Draco rolled his eyes. “We all took Veritaserum before playing. What do you think?” he drawled.
“I see,” said Harry, looking down at his shoes. “I er—had no idea you felt that way.”
Now Draco felt really uncomfortable. “Well, now you know.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Harry said, “I have to admit, I never thought about you like that until yesterday.”
“Look Harry,” Draco said matter-of-factly, “you don’t have to feel obligated to return my feelings. I’ll be okay. Really.”
Harry exhaled audibly and took a gulp of his drink. “Still,” he said, setting his mug down on the table, “I can’t help but wonder whatit’dbeliketokissyou.”
Draco nearly chocked on his lukewarm chocolate. “What?”
When he turned, Harry’s face was mere millimeters away from his own. “I want to kiss you,” Harry repeated.
“Why would you want to do that?” Draco fidgeted under Harry’s intense green gaze.
Harry’s eyes bore into him. “Because you want me, and I think I want you.”
Draco felt lightheaded and weak. Time stretched into unbearably long seconds as Harry’s lips slowly descended onto his own. Draco kept his eyes on them—they were a deep shade of pink, smooth, with just enough pout.
Their lips only brushed at first, as if testing their compatibility. Then Draco opened up slightly just as Harry pressed harder, allowing the brunet’s tongue to slip into his mouth.
Draco tasted of milk and chocolate. Harry deepened the kiss as he felt the blond’s arms wrap around him, a slender hand burying itself in his hair. Draco was so deliciously submissive, his mouth so receptive to Harry’s lustful tongue. And when he moaned, Harry knew that this one kiss wasn’t going to be enough.
When he pulled back, Draco was panting, his head pressed against the back of his sofa. Both hands were still tangled in Harry’s tousled mane. His lips were pink and moist and swollen.
“Come here,” Harry growled pushing Draco down until he was sprawled beneath him on the sofa. He laid down on top of him, pressing his swelling cock against Draco’s groin. He noticed the look of surprise in the blond’s eyes before kissing him again until he was left gasping for air. Then, Harry moved down to the hollow of his throat, making Draco moan and buck against him. The blond’s skin was so soft and smooth, his cock so hard against Harry’s.
Harry was overcome with the urge to rub himself against the body beneath him. He felt embarrassed, and a bit awkward, but he didn’t want to stop. When Draco spread his legs to allow Harry to settle comfortably between them, Harry felt encouraged and began to thrust against Draco while attacking his mouth again.
Harry’s cock felt like it was about to explode. The spot of moisture that had soaked through his boxers and jeans felt cool against his heated skin, and the friction caused by the material rubbing against his cock with each thrust was made him tremble. Draco made him tremble; he felt weaker with every passing second until he was sure that the next wave of heat washing over him would make him faint.
“Yess…” Draco hissed, and the next few thrusts tore a strangled cry from deep within his throat.
Harry buried his head in the crook of Draco’s neck as his own orgasm ripped through him, leaving him a satiated heap on top of the blond. When he began to recover, he placed a few more lazy kisses on Draco’s neck.
Eventually, Draco managed to roll out from underneath him and take out his wand to magically clean the sticky messes in both their pants. All of a sudden he felt vulnerable and scared. He sat gazing into the fire with Harry leaning against his arm and playing with his hand.
“What happens now?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know…”
Tbc…
Title: Snow and Sex in Switzerland
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Wordcount: 1,985
Disclaimer: Characters and HP universe belong to JKR and publishers. Loaded Questions is a trademark of All Things Equal, Inc.
Summary: A ski trip provides the perfect distraction for one broken-hearted Harry Potter.
But what will happen when he comes back to his senses?
“Harry Potter.”
Never in his life had his own name sounded so foreign. Harry looked from Hermione, who he was sure had gone mad, to Draco. Everyone had fallen silent; all eyes were on the blond.
“That’s correct, Hermione.” Draco said, avoiding everyone’s gaze. He sounded almost angry. Ron was supposed to read his answer next, but he’d apparently lost his voice.
“I’m gonna go to bed,” said Draco. “Hermione won anyway.”
It was true—once Hermione moved her piece, she’d be the winner. But no one was interested in the game board anymore. Draco stood awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, then…”
“Draco, wait!” Hermione called after him, but that only made the blond take longer strides in the direction of his room.
Once Draco was out of sight, everyone turned their attention to Harry, who could feel his cheeks beginning to burn.
“I think he wants you to go after him, Harry,” George said, winking.
“Oh hush, George!” said Hermione.
Harry was still so dumbstruck by what had happened that everything that was being said went in one ear and out the other. By the time he’d grasped the full meaning of what had happened, the next group had started playing the game. Everyone was talking and laughing, except for Ron and Hermione who were keeping Harry quiet company.
Draco being secretly enamored with him was the last thing Harry had expected. Such an idea had never crossed his mind. But now, as he rewound his thoughts back to the first time they’d met and replayed many of the memories he had of his interactions with the blond, from the time he refused to accept his offer of friendship to just earlier that day, as they took on the Alps as best mates, he saw everything from an entirely different perspective. They fire in Draco’s eye’s whenever they’d spat insults at one another, his constant obsession with Harry, the way he’d constantly, accidentally cause physical contact between them—unlike any of Harry’s other mates—it all took on a deeper meaning now. How could I not have known?
“So what do you think?” Ron suddenly asked.
“’Bout what?”
“Well… Draco.”
Harry wasn’t sure what he thought. “I think I need a drink.”
With that, he walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey. Just one, though. He didn’t want to get pissed. There was still something he wanted to think about…
He gulped down the burning liquid and headed off to his room.
In the privacy of his bed, Harry began to wonder if he shared Draco’s feelings at all. He had never thought of his friend in that way, but what if he did? Would I do anything for him? There was only one way to find out…
Harry closed his eyes. He tried to imagine what Draco looked like right now, lying in bed. Was he sleeping? What was he wearing? Harry imagined him wearing a pair of green silk pajama pants—he preferred to leave something to the imagination, at first.
He saw himself coming into Draco’s room, sitting beside him on the bed. The blond opened his eyes. “Harry? What are you doing here?”
But in his vision, Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in to press his lips against his friend’s. Draco was startled at first, but soon he relaxed, putting his arms around Harry and moaning into the kiss. When they pulled apart Harry looked down at him. The light of the full moon flowing in through the window, illuminating Draco’s fair skin and making his hair shimmer. He was stunning.
Harry felt a stirring in his groin. As he allowed his fantasy to progress, he brought a hand beneath the sheets to rub the growing bulge in between his legs…
*****
Draco felt awkward being in Harry’s presence after his secret had been spilled the previous evening. He did not stray from the group today, as he usually did, for fear of ending up alone with Harry. And that wasn’t a good sign. Draco feared that if Harry didn’t return his feelings—and he most likely didn’t, considering he’d never shown interest in men—then his confession would ruin their friendship. Damn that Hermione, with her stupid game and her Veritaserum!
When they finally returned to the chalet and everyone was planning where to go and what to do for the rest of the evening, Draco just wanted to be left alone.
“You guys go ahead,” he told them when they were getting ready to go out for supper and then dancing. “I’m not hungry.”
Hermione sighed. “You can’t avoid him forever, Draco.”
“I’m not,” Draco lied. “I’m just tired, and I need a nap.”
“Hurry up, Harry!” Fleur said to the brunet who was taking his time emerging from his room.
“I’m not going,” said Harry. Draco’s stomach suddenly turned into a gigantic knot.
“Well, if they’re not going then I might as well stay,” said Ron. “I hate dancing.”
“You’re coming, Ronald,” said Hermione, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door. Meanwhile, Harry had gone into the kitchen and was looking for a pot.
“You sure you don’t want to come, Harry?” asked Pansy, making puppy eyes at him, which suited her pug face.
“Yeah.”
“Well, see you guys later, then,” said Fred, giving Draco a wink. “Have fun.”
Draco felt as if he’d been paralyzed. If he ran after them now, it would be obvious that he was trying to avoid Harry. But he really didn’t want to be alone with the dark-haired man right now. What if he said something about the other night? What if he didn’t?
Draco picked up a skiing book that was lying on the coffee table and began flipping through it, pretending he was reading even though he could not focus on the jumble of letters covering the pages. He didn’t even have the patience to look at the pictures.
“You want some hot chocolate?” Harry’s asked from the kitchen.
“Sure,” said Draco, trying to sound bored while his mind raced to figure out how to behave normal when his heart was trying to pound its way through his chest and his stomach was turned inside out.
By the time Harry came into the living room, carrying two cups of hot chocolate, Draco had moved on to the Daily Prophet. He’d even managed to read a few sentences so that he’d have something to say when Harry came in. Indeed, the article was interesting, and if he wasn’t so nervous, it would have made him seethe with anger.
“Listen to this,” he said as Harry set down the mug of steaming liquid on the table in front of him. “New evidence suggests that the Phantom Thief, who is responsible for the disappearance of the ashes of three dangerous warlocks, who wrecked havoc in the wizarding world centuries ago, may be a member of the Ministry of Magic. On Monday, the Ministry received information from an anonymous source suggesting that the thief may be one of the Aurors leading the search for the stolen items. The Minister of Magic, Melville Blackwell, refused to comment on the validity of the source, but gave his assurance that the Ministry is doing everything possible to find the thief…”
Harry furrowed his brow. “Hmmm…”
“I can’t believe this! We’ve been searching for those damned urns since October, and now they’re accusing us of stealing them!?”
“They’re just trying to cause a sensation. Anyways, we’ll have to look into it when we get back, just to be sure.”
Draco tossed the newspaper onto the table and picked up his mug of hot chocolate, taking a sip.
“Good?”
Draco nodded. He suddenly got butterflies when he noticed just how close to him Harry was sitting. He looked into the fire as he continued drinking his hot chocolate in silence. He was glad that at least Harry was still talking to him.
“Is it true?” Harry asked.
“What?”
“What you said yesterday…”
Draco rolled his eyes. “We all took Veritaserum before playing. What do you think?” he drawled.
“I see,” said Harry, looking down at his shoes. “I er—had no idea you felt that way.”
Now Draco felt really uncomfortable. “Well, now you know.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Harry said, “I have to admit, I never thought about you like that until yesterday.”
“Look Harry,” Draco said matter-of-factly, “you don’t have to feel obligated to return my feelings. I’ll be okay. Really.”
Harry exhaled audibly and took a gulp of his drink. “Still,” he said, setting his mug down on the table, “I can’t help but wonder whatit’dbeliketokissyou.”
Draco nearly chocked on his lukewarm chocolate. “What?”
When he turned, Harry’s face was mere millimeters away from his own. “I want to kiss you,” Harry repeated.
“Why would you want to do that?” Draco fidgeted under Harry’s intense green gaze.
Harry’s eyes bore into him. “Because you want me, and I think I want you.”
Draco felt lightheaded and weak. Time stretched into unbearably long seconds as Harry’s lips slowly descended onto his own. Draco kept his eyes on them—they were a deep shade of pink, smooth, with just enough pout.
Their lips only brushed at first, as if testing their compatibility. Then Draco opened up slightly just as Harry pressed harder, allowing the brunet’s tongue to slip into his mouth.
Draco tasted of milk and chocolate. Harry deepened the kiss as he felt the blond’s arms wrap around him, a slender hand burying itself in his hair. Draco was so deliciously submissive, his mouth so receptive to Harry’s lustful tongue. And when he moaned, Harry knew that this one kiss wasn’t going to be enough.
When he pulled back, Draco was panting, his head pressed against the back of his sofa. Both hands were still tangled in Harry’s tousled mane. His lips were pink and moist and swollen.
“Come here,” Harry growled pushing Draco down until he was sprawled beneath him on the sofa. He laid down on top of him, pressing his swelling cock against Draco’s groin. He noticed the look of surprise in the blond’s eyes before kissing him again until he was left gasping for air. Then, Harry moved down to the hollow of his throat, making Draco moan and buck against him. The blond’s skin was so soft and smooth, his cock so hard against Harry’s.
Harry was overcome with the urge to rub himself against the body beneath him. He felt embarrassed, and a bit awkward, but he didn’t want to stop. When Draco spread his legs to allow Harry to settle comfortably between them, Harry felt encouraged and began to thrust against Draco while attacking his mouth again.
Harry’s cock felt like it was about to explode. The spot of moisture that had soaked through his boxers and jeans felt cool against his heated skin, and the friction caused by the material rubbing against his cock with each thrust was made him tremble. Draco made him tremble; he felt weaker with every passing second until he was sure that the next wave of heat washing over him would make him faint.
“Yess…” Draco hissed, and the next few thrusts tore a strangled cry from deep within his throat.
Harry buried his head in the crook of Draco’s neck as his own orgasm ripped through him, leaving him a satiated heap on top of the blond. When he began to recover, he placed a few more lazy kisses on Draco’s neck.
Eventually, Draco managed to roll out from underneath him and take out his wand to magically clean the sticky messes in both their pants. All of a sudden he felt vulnerable and scared. He sat gazing into the fire with Harry leaning against his arm and playing with his hand.
“What happens now?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know…”
Tbc…
