Work Text:
Attempt 1
Random Stakeout in Some Abandoned Building
December 23
22:00
“I don’t know! It never happened for me, alright? Can you let it go?”
Potter’s just revealed he’s a virgin , and he expects Draco to let it go? Laughable. Plus, they’re five hours into this overnight stakeout and there hasn’t been even a hint of movement from the building across the street they’ve been watching. Draco’s bored . And horny for Potter, but that’s not anything new.
“Let’s have sex right now.”
Potter looks mighty unimpressed. “Wow, a pity shag. Just how I always imagined.”
“A shag is a shag, and beggars can’t be choosers.”
“I’m not a beggar, arsehole!”
“And I’m not offering a pity fuck, Potter. I’m bent, you’re bi—supposedly—we’re both fit, we have time to kill, so why not?” Draco chooses not to mention the years-long thing he’s had for Potter.
“We don’t have time to kill! We’re on the job!” Potter whisper-shouts. He turns pointedly back to the window, blushing fiercely and biting his thumbnail.
“At least let me suck you off.”
“No!”
Potter’s body betrays him, though. He keeps sneaking glances over at Draco, his pupils are blown wide, and when Draco looks down at Potter’s lap the evidence is mighty clear.
“No because we’re on the job, or no because you don’t want to? Because I do. I want to.”
Potter answers, but it’s mumbled and completely unintelligible. “In English, please, Potter.”
Not meeting Draco’s eyes, Potter says, “...Because we’re on the job.”
Triumph flares hard and fast in Draco’s chest. “Technically, we’re not abandoning our post if one of us is still on watch.” Potter’s stunning green eyes are locked onto Draco when he slides to his knees on the tile floor. “So you keep watch.”
Draco trails his fingers over Potter’s not-insubstantial denim-covered erection, earning him a sharp inhale. He grins wolfishly up at Potter, who is dutifully staring out the window, biting down on his bottom lip and looking pained.
“I love doing this,” Draco says, unzipping Potter’s jeans. “You’ve been missing out. Honestly, there’s not much better than having a big, hard cock in your mo—”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Potter hisses.
Draco shrugs. “No.”
And then it all comes to a screeching halt. Draco doesn’t even get to look at Potter’s cock before Potter jerks upright, whispering, “There! Malfoy, they just exited through the alleyway, we have to move!
Draco hopes they escape because otherwise, he’ll be murdering them.
—
Attempt 2
Broom Closet, Ministry of Magic
December 24
00:30
They did their job. Chased down and arrested the subjects, took them into Headquarters for interrogation. Which is someone else’s job. Draco has far more important things to do.
He drags Potter by the wrist down the nearly empty hallways of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and into a tucked-away maintenance closet. After kicking the door shut behind them, he locks it with a strong Colloportus.
Harry grabs Draco’s wrist and turns him around with a determined glint in his eye.
“Is that blowjob still on the table?”
No more blushing, unsure-of-himself Potter, it seems. Draco likes it quite a lot. “Sure, for starters. Along with anything else you can dream up.”
Potter kisses him. It’s a decent enough kiss; Potter’s not entirely inexperienced but Draco can tell it’s been awhile. Which is fine. He’ll get Potter up to speed.
Before dropping to his knees (for the second time tonight), Draco has enough sense to cast a cushioning charm on the floor. He plans to be there for a while. Or not, depending on Potter’s stamina. He unzips Potter’s jeans, again, and quickly pushes them and Potter’s boxers down around his thighs. Draco sits back on his heels, Potter’s hips between his hands, and takes a good, hard look. His mouth waters.
“Impressive.” Understatement. Had he known what Potter was walking around with he, proud size-queen Draco Malfoy, would’ve made a move much, much sooner.
“Er, thanks?”
Draco gazes up at Potter through his lashes. Licks his lips. “You and I are going to have such fun, darling.”
Finally, finally, he leans in and takes the wide head of Potter’s cock between his lips. He tastes of sweat and masculinity, and Draco moans, which makes Potter moan and sink his fingers into Draco’s hair, gripping tight. There’s no way Potter could’ve known Draco gets off to having his hair pulled; it’s just a happy coincidence. One that he still rewards Potter for by taking him down his throat and sucking hard. Potter’s whines and pulls harder . Could this get any better?
A blue glow somewhere behind him makes Draco fully open his eyes but he doesn’t stop. Not until he hears a panicked voice that’d make anyone, including Draco, go instantly soft.
“Harry—Hermione’s in labour! We’re at St. Mungo’s, come quick!
Well, it got worse.
Draco reluctantly removes his mouth. A frustrated Harry squeezes his eyes shut and hits his head against the wall three times.
“In the grand scheme of things, is one infant really that important?”
It was worth a shot.
“I’m sorry.” Potter does look genuinely distressed. “I have to go, I promised them I’d be there.”
“Fucking Weasleys,” Draco spits.
“I’ll send you an owl,” Potter says, wide-eyed and earnest. He pulls up his pants and jeans, tucking himself away. Draco does not pout. Then, Potter breaks Draco’s Colloportus on the door and reaches for it. He stops and turns before leaving.
“Truly—the second I’m back home, I’ll write.” Potter leans in and, of all things, kisses Draco’s cheek. When he pulls away he’s smiling and looking at Draco the way he’s fantasised about forever.
Fucking. Weasleys .
—
Attempt 3
Harry Potter’s Bedroom, Grimmauld Place
December 25
02:00
The owl arrives late (early) but Draco’s not one to complain. He Floos to Grimmauld Place and before he can even register his surroundings, Potter rushes forward, grabs his arm, and Apparates them both into what is probably Potter’s bedroom. It must be, as he’s the only person Draco knows who’s slobby enough to put laundry on the floor and leave empty teacups and water glasses scattered on every surface.
“Don’t you have a house-elf?”
Potter shrugs. “He doesn’t come in here. Doesn’t clean much of anything, really.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Can we not talk about my cleanliness right now, please?” Potter says through gritted teeth.
Fair point. Draco wastes no more time. He vanishes all of their clothes, yanks the bedsheets back and slides in. “Are you coming?”
Potter mumbles something that sounds mightily like “Hope so,” under his breath but slips in beside him. When Draco rolls and covers Potter’s naked body with his own, they sigh into each other’s mouths—it’s so warm and lovely. Potter’s already hard… which, considering his day’s worth of blue balls, isn’t surprising.
Draco puts every effort into giving him the best blowjob of his life. Never mind that it’s the only blowjob of Potter’s life, so far.
“M—Malfoy?” Potter gasps out.
“Mmm?” Not much Draco can say with his mouth full.
“Do you think… could we…?”
For the love of Merlin. Harry’s interrupting his own blowjob, now. “What?”
“Could we have sex?”
Well, in that case. Any lingering frustration drains away rapidly. Not trusting Potter to make coherent decisions at the moment, Draco says, “Yes. You’re topping.”
“Oh… okay.” Potter’s clearly trying to hide some measure of disappointment. Interesting. Draco softens.
“It’s easier this way, the first time. We can try it the other way another time.” There’s no contradiction of Draco’s implication that there’ll be more than this one time, which he counts as a massive win.
“I’d normally take this part slowly,” Draco says while prepping himself quickly with the aid of several handy spells, “but who knows? A meteor may strike the house, fucking Weasley could need something else , so we mustn’t delay.”
“I mean, Ron didn’t need me for no reason, they did have a baby. It’s a girl, by the way, her name is—”
“Tell me later,” Draco says, and turns over onto his hands and knees. “Like this, come on, I’m ready.”
Potter rises up and moves behind him, running his calloused hands down Draco’s flank, then puts them on Draco’s arse and massages, pulling the cheeks apart to look. Alright, Potter.
“I can’t believe this is happening. Wait, before we start—”
Draco’s about to throw a massive fit, but then Potter leans forward and kisses him. It’s gentle, sweet even. Loving? No, he’s reading into it. Wishful thinking.
“Ready?” Potter asks.
“I swear on Merlin’s grave, Potter, if you don’t…”
Laughing, Potter lines up. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
In the minutes prior, he’d somehow forgotten that Potter’s quite well-endowed. He’s rapidly reminded of that fact. It burns , but Draco doesn’t mind a bit of pain. It’s easy to ignore with Potter behind him, making all kinds of wonderful noises as he pushes inside.
“Oh god, Malfoy—this is amazing .”
Not one to be humble, Draco grits out, “Of course it is. You can move now, please.”
Potter gets right to it. Draco can tell he’s feeling it out, testing what Draco can handle as he starts moving very, very slowly and very, very carefully. Kind, considerate Potter, even during sex. Draco wants none of it.
“Let me assure you, I will not break . Do whatever you want, Potter, I can take it.”
All he gets is a squeeze on his shoulder in acknowledgement before Potter dutifully follows orders and goes at him, hard. Finally . There’s not a ton of finesse to it, Potter’s all raw power, but it doesn’t matter. He lets Potter know how good it is with his body, arching his back and meeting Potter’s rough thrusts, moaning with absolutely zero shame. When Potter adjusts his angle and hits the perfect spot inside of him Draco lets him know that, too, lowering himself to his forearms and nearly crying with pleasure.
“ Fuck —are you close? Please be close, please, I’m trying to hold back but I can’t—” Potter’s thrusts turn frantic.
“Don’t,” Draco pants. “Let go, it’s okay, I want it, you can come.”
With a loud shout, Potter does exactly that, gripping Draco’s waist hard enough that he expects bruises and releasing inside him. The roll of his hips slows to a stop and Draco can feel Potter shuddering behind him.
“Pull out,” Draco says. When he does, he flips onto his back and wanks himself off while Potter watches through exhausted, heavy-lidded eyes.
“Let me do that.”
Draco, more than happy to have Potter take over, lies back and enjoys Potter’s hand, moving slick and fast and rough over his neglected cock. It’s only seconds before he’s groaning and coming all over Potter’s hand.
He’s barely come down from the high when Potter lifts a hand to his mouth and tastes . It’s a shame refractory periods are a thing because he’d probably be able to come again from watching that.
“You taste good,” Potter says and fuck, that’s hot.
“Glad I meet your expectations.”
“Exceeds. Outstanding .” There’s a strange expression on Potter’s face, one Draco tries not to read too much into. He doesn’t want to hope.
“That wasn’t bad, Potter. For a first time.”
Potter’s brows lift and he smirks. “I’ll redeem myself next time.”
A thrill shoots through Draco at Potter’s confirmation of a next time . “See that you do,” he says haughtily, but Potter laughs.
“Happy Christmas, Malfoy.” He kisses Draco again—on his mouth, his forehead, his nose, then his mouth again. Draco swells with what must be sheer joy and kisses him back, savouring every second.
“Happy Christmas, Potter.”