Burying the Hatchet
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Harry took one look at Draco lounging languidly against the statue of the one-eyed witch, his robes open and white shirt clinging to his thin frame over sinfully tight leather trousers, and Harry felt his whole body flush. He covered it by spitting out, "I'm here. What d'you want, Malfoy? Don't think you can--"

"Oh, shut it, Potter," said Draco, eyes flashing. "I didn't ask you here for any petty tricks. I'm tired."

He looked it, too, paler than usual with dark smudges of purple underneath those grey eyes. "Tired of what?" asked Harry warily, edging a bit closer. Those trousers really were tight, hugging every muscle and bone of Draco's lower body. His black school robe was practically falling off his shoulders in loose folds. Two buttons on the thin shirt were undone, and Harry fancied he could see Draco's nipples, pink and hard in the cold beneath their inadequate covering. He blushed more when he realized he was getting hard himself.

"Tired of this. Us. Fighting," said Draco, gesturing. "I want..." He sighed, looking at Harry with unreadable eyes.

"If you'd just leave me alone," Harry began, only to fall silent when Draco took a step towards him.

"You know that would never work, Potter. Not for us," Draco moved sinuously, serpentine in his grace as he slithered into Harry's personal space. He smelled of musk and spices and a little bit like laundry soap, a lot like leather. Harry grew harder, and swallowed to help a throat suddenly gone dry. Draco leaned in as Harry backed away, one hand going to the wall behind Harry's head and the other resting against his hip, effectively trapping him. "We need each other."

Draco's breath washed cool mint over Harry's face as he leaned in, thumb making circles around Harry's hipbone, hot even through his clothing. "I'm not--"

Whatever he wasn't, it was cut off as Draco's mouth closed over Harry's lips, his hand over Harry's erection. Harry moaned, thoughts stuttering as Draco's tongue slid inside and began teasing his own until he couldn't remember what he'd been saying or really why he hadn't just spent the last seven years of school doing this. Because this was brilliant, the hot slide of lips and tongue and teeth, the tingles of pure pleasure that ran through him as Draco's stroked him through his trousers.

"You are," said Draco, voice still mocking even as he ground his hips into Harry's, pressing his leather-clad erection into Harry's answering hardness.

Harry tilted his hips forward even as his hands tangled painfully in Draco's hair. "I'm not going to be on the bottom," said Harry darkly, biting at Draco's lips and flipping them around so Draco's shoulders were pressed into the rough stone wall. He kissed Draco fiercely, finally understanding what had been missing in Cho's kisses, or any other girl's for that matter. Harry slipped his thigh between Draco's legs, grinding them together harder, fingers still trapped in that silky blond hair.

Draco gasped into the kisses, hands scrabbling at Harry's hips, his chest and shoulders. "Don't think," he gasped out between vicious kisses, "we'll get... that far tonight... Potter."

"Harry," said Harry shortly, lips travelling down to suck a vivid love bite on Draco's white neck. It was satisfying enough he did it again, lower, nuzzling into the open shirt to leave one at the juncture of neck and shoulder, and again above the collarbone.

"Wha?" said Draco, between soft moans. He was flushed, mussed, lips swollen and red, shiny even in the dim corridor.

"Call me Harry." He let go of Draco's hair and moved his hands instead to the row of tiny pearl buttons, mouth suddenly hungry for more of Draco, wanting to taste those teasing nipples, bite and ravish them. Maybe more, mind flooding with images of what else Draco had going on, wondering what it might be like to hold him, suck his cock and feel that hot weight against his tongue.

"Harry," said Draco softly, voice catching as Harry found a nipple and bit down hard. His hands found their way into scraggly black hair, tousling it further, all their previous aggression borne away by desire.

"Draco," growled Harry, mouth sucking kisses over Draco's stomach even as his hands were busy with the taut trouser laces. He licked into Draco's navel, loving the way it made the muscles around it flutter as Draco gasped and giggled and gasped again when his erection was freed, falling into Harry's waiting hand. "No pants. Naughty."

Draco didn't answer with anything but moans as Harry gripped the firm shaft, feeling its heft, the unfamiliar weight and heat of it, the soft-over-hardness that before had only been him. The smooth shaft was darker than the rest of Draco's pale skin, almost rosy where it peeked out of the foreskin. Draco found his voice again when Harry's seeking tongue found the slick head of his cock, grinding out, "Bugger."

"You like that?" said Harry mischievously, savoring the strange salt taste in his mouth. He slid the trousers down Draco's hips a bit until he could find soft-furred balls to suck, wanting to draw this out, this first time.

"Bloody... fuck, that's brilliant," said Draco, one hand on Harry's head, the other moving up his own body to lodge its knuckles in that wet, red mouth. Harry moaned at the sight of it, everything laid out before his eyes, and Draco echoed it as the vibrations purred over his skin.

"I'm going to suck you off," said Harry, licking a wet, messy stripe up Draco's cock. "And then you're going to get me off, either sucking or fucking."

"Mouth," was all Draco managed to say, whether a comment on Harry's current activity, his future one or even the swearing, Harry wasn't sure. It didn't matter, all that mattered now was the cock in front of him. He wrapped a hand around the base, using the other to palm the spit-slick balls as he licked the head, then took it in his mouth.

He'd been right, this was bloody brilliant, the taste and feel of it, velvet and heat and salt. Screw girls and their crying and weird emotions, this was what he'd never known he wanted, needed. He felt his own arousal, heavy and trapped in his school uniform, and considered freeing it, just jacking himself onto Draco's pristine leather boots, but instead he concentrated on the task at hand.

He moved his hand experimentally, tongue flicking over the smooth head, then took as much in as he could manage until his lips met his fist and he almost gagged. Draco moaned again, and Harry slid back and forth, sucking and licking at it, surrounded by the smell of Draco and sex. He felt hot and perfect even in this obvious corridor, sure that any detention he might get was worth it just for this moment, the way his lips tingled and throat ached from wanting to take it all in.

"Gonna," gasped Draco above him, and Harry pulled back until just the tip was in his mouth, needing something he'd never considered before. He slid his fist faster up and down Draco's length, milking him even as he pulsed hot and bitter over Harry's tongue. The taste was alive and thick, and it left his throat feeling strange, but it didn't matter because Draco was sliding down the wall, hair mussed, shirt and pants open, throat and chest covered in bite marks, and he, Harry, had done this to him.

Harry pulled Draco into a kiss, messy with come and spit and passion and old grudges, teeth and lips passing dark growls back and forth along with the taste of Draco's seed. "Fuck me," said Draco, pulling abruptly out of the kiss.

"You're sure?" said Harry, feeling his need throb between his legs, coil in his stomach like a new kind of snake.

Draco nodded, fishing out his wand and muttering an unfamiliar spell. "There, now I'm all ready. Just... let me get you wet, too," he said, rocking forward, face intent and hungry. He pulled Harry out of his trousers, then sucked him in greedily, taking more than Harry had been able to manage.

Whispers of Draco doing this before crawled through Harry's brain, and he found his tongue long enough to say, "After this, only me."

Draco looked up, surprised, then lowered his eyes in acquiescence with whatever he saw in Harry's face. He let Harry's cock go with a smirk and an obscene pop, spit trailing to his mouth before he wiped it with the back of his hand. "Up against the wall?"

Harry grinned in agreement, and Draco stood with enviable grace, trousers still shoved down around his hips. He turned, pulling them down just enough that Harry could see the glisten of something wet between his cheeks, then braced his arms against the cold wall, looking back over his shoulder seductively.

"Shite, you're lovely," said Harry, suppressing the urge to mark all that pale, perfect flesh. Instead, he slid his thumb down the cleft, encountering first slickness, then heat as his thumb slid easily inside. "Did you already...?" Harry trailed off, thumb gently stroking where Draco had, quite possibly, been stroking himself only recently.

Draco nodded, blushing and suddenly, strangely shy. "The spell just... renewed the oil."

"You really wanted me," said Harry, feeling amazement settling in with the desire, making it fizz and pop across his skin when Draco's blush deepened and he nodded again. Harry fit his cock to Draco's entrance, teasing the rough skin for a few torturous moments before sliding carefully in. "Tell me..."

"So good," said Draco, bringing Harry's half-formed concerns to a stuttering halt as the sensations hit, hot and wet and tight and nothing at all like anything he'd ever felt before, softer than the finest silk and almost grasping as he slid out a few short inches in his shock. Draco whimpered, and Harry felt that rush of power urging him on. He grabbed Draco's hips and jerked forward, feeling his balls slap against the cool leather just below.

Harry leaned in so he could worry at Draco's neck with his teeth, sliding a hand around to the sticky, wet remains of his erection. Somewhere Draco had shed his cloak and shirt, but Harry had been too gone to notice, instead rewarding the effort now with nips and kisses all along the broad back. He sucked love bites down the spine as far as he could bend, dark against the whiteness of Draco's flawless skin, driving himself into the welcoming flesh below.

Harry didn't think he'd last long, didn't think he'd even manage to get Draco hard again before he came so he slid that hand down into the leather, cupping the still-wet balls and slipping his fingers behind them until he could feel himself sliding in and out. The shock of it made it all seem real and dreamlike all at once, his own fingertips sliding against him as he slid in and out of Draco's body, surrounded by heat and scent and the sound of panting breaths and strangled moans.

"Harry," moaned Draco, cock twitching as Harry slid across something, then tried to do it again, and again. He was close, so close, and he felt his hands tightening, one on Draco's hip and the other squeezing Draco's balls, trying to stay just this side of pain but maybe nudging a little over that fine, hot line as he bit down on that thin white shoulder and spilled inside his most hated rival.

"Fuck," said Harry softly, easing off Draco's balls but reluctant to let them go.

"Christ, that was good," said Draco, spreading his legs a bit wider and arching back into Harry, tightening everything until Harry gasped again as a tiny aftershock rode through him. "Knew it would be."

"So, it'll be this instead of hexes, from now on?" said Harry softly, wrapping his other arm around Draco's chest and holding him close.

"Much better, don't you think?" said Draco, forehead resting on his arms as they both panted their way back down from the peak. "My bollocks'll never recover, but it was worth it."

Harry laughed a little breathlessly, then eased out reluctantly, turning them both around until Draco was cradled in his arms, his own still-clothed back to the cold wall. He thought of a thousand things to say to that as Draco wriggled the leather pants up and thoughtfully performed a cleaning spell on them both. "We'd better find somewhere more private, though," said Harry, looking around himself for the first time since he'd gone to his knees.

"True, that," said Draco, pulling away. He retrieved his shirt and robe from the floor and slipped them on with a little shiver. "Somewhere warmer, preferably."

"Your choice this time," said Harry, unable to resist licking at the kiss-swollen lips until they let him in for another deep kiss.

"Thought you'd need more persuading," said Draco, shrugging. "I only prepped myself in case."

Harry flushed at the thought of it, Draco touching himself there, hoping. "Fuck, that's hot."

It was Draco's turn to blush. "Next time it's your turn," he said roughly, pressing Harry into the wall for another hot, bitter kiss.

"Sure," said Harry languidly, letting himself be ravished. He pulled Draco's body against his, cupping Draco's half-hard cock through the leather. "But you'll have to teach me that spell."

Title: Burying the Hatchet
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, underage
Summary: Draco asks Harry to meet him in a hallway.
Acknowledgements: For Gary, because he did some wacky IT thing and wanted porn. Thanks to all my bunnies for encouraging me, and to Katkim, Xim and Kel for betaing!

All of the works contained herein are labours of love, unauthorized by those who hold the rights to such things, and no profit is made from them. No harm is meant, and hopefully no offense given.