AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! Drarry muggle AU

Draco was… well, in the words of his best friend he was slightly psychotic. An only child, the sole heir to the Malfoy's business empire, and the only person who could piss his father off and get away with his balls intact. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't the money that got to him. He liked the wealth, of course, and he liked having nice things but he didn't mind not having them. Draco was, however, slightly insane. In a good way, Blaise usually assured him, but Draco had his doubts and it also didn't really bother him if it was in a bad way. As long as he kept up appearances for the press, it didn't matter.

He didn't believe in flaunting wealth-at least not any more than his father insisted upon-but he did believe in wasting it, and wasting it heavily. On one hand, it pissed his father off to no end, which Draco enjoyed immensely. On the other hand, though, it gave him a rush sometimes that was better than the apathy so it became like a drug.

"You having a party tonight?" Draco sneered, but it wasn't mean.

"Do you really have to ask me that, Blaise?" The man rolled his eyes but kicked his feet up on the expensive mahogany coffee table and made sure to rub a little mud in. They would blame it on Draco, anyways, and it didn't matter. Draco would likely do it himself before the night was through because, after all, it was his birthday and he would have been breaking tradition if he didn't get completely shitfaced and sleep with some rando.

Draco's parties-not Malfoy parties, just Draco's-were legendary. Half the city usually showed up and tried to get in and, if not for his faithful bouncers, the Manor would have been flooded with riffraff. As it was, there was a very strict guest list. And so much alcohol.

"Is Pans invited?" Draco covered a snort of laughter and kicked his own feet up on the mahogany.

"After the stunt she pulled last year? Hell yeah." They both laughed, and focused on their drinks. Draco was not twenty one-he wouldn't be for another day-and none of his friends were either but that hadn't ever stopped them from raiding the Manor's liquor supply and getting completely trashed. Pansy, in particular, had really let loose at Draco's last birthday party. In her drunk stupor, she had been found backfloating in the fountain by the Manor's entrance and, when hauled out by Draco's father, had kissed the man. Lucius had been furious for weeks after that, and Draco still chuckled at the memory.

"Your dad's gonna kill you one of these days." Draco just shrugged. "I don't like how nonchalant about that you are, man, don't you care that he might just explode and kill you in a fit of rage someday?" Again, Draco just shrugged and sipped his glass.

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. All I know is that tonight is going to be one hell of a party."

Harry Potter was not rich. He was a foster kid and had been since before he could remember but he'd landed, luckily, with the Weasleys at age eleven and had become a part of their family. Molly Weasley was both very generous and very fertile, as she liked to joke, which led to a house full of children at all times, some biological and some foster, but it also led to a severe lack of money. They had enough to get by, of course, but now that Harry was on his second year of college he was starting to feel the strain.

"You could always come to the party tonight, Harry." He glared at Ginny but she was waiting for it, her tongue already stuck out at him. She continued curling her hair as he pouted.

"It's practically prostitution, Gin!"

"Keep your voice down!" Harry relented, and Ginny gave him a hard look. "It's not prostitution, I told you a hundred times. They're just rich kids. A lot of them like to blow money on things, like they ran out of excuses to spend it so they just throw it away. They pay for pretty company." Harry rolled his eyes at her.

"They pay for sex."

"Nuh-uh! Me and Pansy have gone at least four different times and I've never slept with anyone. It's just a party, Harry, and it's a quick way to make money. I know you're behind on your loan payments." He was, dangerously, and the entire family seemed to know that as much as it infuriated him. It wasn't his fault that a full time job couldn't pay for his college tuition, after all, but he was not going to be one of those rom-com girls who prostituted herself for college money.

"Mom's starting to worry, huh?" He was not one of those girls-or guys-but he still considered himself a foster kid, a burden, no matter what anyone else said and he hated to cause extra pressure on Molly.

"Yeah. Money's always tight, yanno." Harry did know. And that was all it took for him to get up and head to his room. He was going to go and hope that he didn't have to be a pretty redheaded girl just to get money and pray to god that he didn't have to sleep with anyone.

"Wear something tight, college boy!"

By midnight, the party was in full swing. His parents had gone on one of their many vacations without him, meaning he had the Manor to himself, and the staff were all more than a little afraid he would go full Lizzie Borden on them if they pissed him off so it was a good night. The alcohol was free flowing, no doubt thousands of dollars worth of it, and Draco was thrilled.

"Hey, Blaise, where's your girl at?" Draco wasn't sure at that point if he was referring to Pansy, the one Blaise would undoubtedly sleep with before the night was over, or the little redhead Pans constantly dragged along with her. Little red had a name, but Draco could never remember it. He enjoyed watching Blaise flirt with the girl who was clearly still a teenager, knowing it would go nowhere, just to piss Pansy off. It was a game Draco loved watching.

"Not sure, said she was picking up extra cargo and might be a little late." Draco huffed and called for another round of shots, which was answered with cheers from the entire main hall. Pansy may not have been his best friend, but she was one of the few constants in his life and Draco was slightly insulted that she wasn't joining them for his birthday, of all things. He spoke too soon of course, though. Which he tended to do when slightly drunk.

"Happy birthday, Dray!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him-she was one of the only ones allowed to-but he could smell the alcohol on her already. He smiled as she pulled away, and moved to introduce the redhead yet again.

"You guys remember Ginny." Draco nodded politely and Blaise hugged her, clearly already starting the game. It took a lot of alcohol for Draco to relax or let loose, usually, but even when he was slightly drunk, like now, his forced manners and cold exterior came back in the presence of strangers. As Ginny pulled away, she gestured to the man she'd brought with her.

"This is my friend Harry." Blaise shook the guy's hand but Draco stayed still, merely sizing him up with those silver eyes he knew made people uncomfortable. The man didn't flinch, though, or even squirm.

"Happy birthday," he said quietly, almost as if he was mocking Pansy rather than actually saying it. Draco gave him a nod and they disappeared to get drinks.

"You got your eye on that one?" He flashed Blaise a look but the man was drunk so he just laughed. "Oh come on Draco anyone who's ever been to one of these parties before knows you're not particular about your sexual conquests as long as they're attractive. And that guy there, objectively, is attractive." Draco rolled his eyes but someone yelled for shots and, following house rules, everyone did a shot which distracted Draco long enough. He and Blaise tended to linger at the top of the stairs, just watching. It sounded creepy but Draco didn't trust many people and until he was good and drunk he wasn't comfortable with being among the throngs of people he'd created. Blaise knew that, and just kept him company.

"You rang for another drink, sir?" The faceless man in a suit handed Draco a glass of something, maybe whiskey? Draco downed it without even blinking. The man disappeared, probably to get another, and Draco perused the scene below him as Blaise watched him.

"You're weird again tonight." He took another gulp before facing his best friend, who was now apparently drunk enough to call him out on shit.

"You're the one who's not playing your usual game, Blaise. Where's Pans and little red?" Blaise laughed at him, though, and emptied his glass.

"Where's the boy toy she brought, you mean?" Draco gave a noncommittal shrug. "Two o'clock birthday boy." Draco followed Blaise's instructions and found Pansy. With the darkness and flashing neon lights, Pansy looked damn near electric as she joined the dance floor. She was wearing jean shorts-an odd choice for a party, Draco noted-and a very revealing top that he had no doubt was just to get Blaise's attention but it shimmered in the lights distractingly. Colorful lights were very distracting when he was drunk.

"Oof look at little red go!" Sure enough, little red was joining Pansy on the dance floor and dragging the boy she'd brought with her. She joined Pans and began to dance, letting her short skirt and her cute top fool the people around her into thinking she was in her twenties, not her teens, but Draco didn't really mind. Pans had vouched for her and brought her as a friend, not a hookup. He'd never seen little red pimp herself out, either, or even leave with anyone besides Pans so he doubted that was what she came for. Not that he cared, really.

"Aww your boy is shy." Draco tried to skip over the way Blaise just assigned the man to him, like he was an object or something. Instead, he turned his attention to where little red was trying to drag the man out onto the dancefloor, and failing miserably. He was clearly not used to parties. Normally, that would have bothered Draco because he didn't have patience for people who weren't up for his speed and his crazy, but he found it endearing from this one. That, and the way little red was coaxing him was quite funny to watch.

Apparently Draco wasn't the only one who'd been drinking, though, because once little red got her friend out on the dancefloor he completely changed. Gone was the awkward wallflower. In its place, stood a very attractive man who turned out to be an appealing drunk and an even better dancer.

"Damn your boy's got moves." Blaise was still beside him, waiting for his cue to leave and just watching Pansy as she tried to seduce him from the floor below. Draco was focused on the boy, though. Harry, if he could remember correctly, was dancing now completely carefree and it was obvious him and little red were close because he relaxed with her. Hopefully not too close, Draco couldn't help thinking.

It was a rather established tradition, by now, that Draco had a routine for parties like these and he stuck to it. Thus why Blaise was still by his side, and thus why he was merely observing. He needed to be drunk enough to wade through the throng of people and he needed to be uninhibited enough to let someone touch him before he descended the stairs. Watching, he took another shot from a tray that was offered to him. At parties, he tended to observe like this until he found what he wanted and then he advanced. He was not predatory, and he took no for an answer, it was just that no one had ever said anything but yes because he was very careful to only choose people he could tell were attracted to him. It wasn't a very narrow selection.

"God damn." Blaise was commenting on the way Pansy was grinding against another man, taunting him, but Draco couldn't help letting his eyes drift to the side. Harry was there, dancing near little red but not with her. He'd found a rhythm, now, and his hair had become messy and tousled in a way that was almost unfairly sexy. Draco watched as he rolled his hips, and then as he felt Draco watching him and looked up. Briefly, their eyes met.

Just as quickly, Harry looked away and moved closer to talk to little red but Draco had made up his mind. They were discussing him, very obviously, and he could imagine what little red was saying about the great, psychotic Draco Malfoy. Harry didn't seem scared, though. It was like before, with Draco's eyes, and he actually enjoyed the difference. Normally, people were uncomfortable around him until they saw the party Draco come out but Harry didn't seem the least bit put off. If anything, he seemed to like it.

Draco had made his choice, though, so with one last gulp of alcohol he pushed himself off the banister and started for the stairs. Blaise rushed ahead of him, finally dismissed to go pull Pansy off whatever guy she was with. He heard a hush fall over the party, even if it was slight compared to the blasting music and the yelling from other wings of the Manor, but he ignored it just like he ignored the way everyone watched him descend. It was a well known tradition, and everyone wanted to see who'd made the cut.

Draco followed Blaise, but it made no difference. Everyone knew he didn't move from his spot at the top of the stairs or join the crowd until he was plenty drunk and had a target in mind. When he reached ground level, he managed to disappear some into the crowd. It wasn't much, but it helped. And, as Blaise made a scene ripping Pansy away from some blond guy, Draco made a move around the edge of the room to where little red and Harry were.

He hovered, staying near the wall with a drink in his hand, because Draco wasn't much for dancing unless he had a partner but he made his focus very clear. Others backed away from Harry, as if letting Draco have him. Harry was quick to notice, which Draco had to give him credit for, but his eyes held no fear or apprehension as he met Draco's. He looked happy, actually.

"You'd make a good statue! Really spices up the decor." Draco didn't laugh, but his lips quirked up in a little smile before he quickly hid it behind his glass. Harry had to yell to be heard, but Draco didn't bother yelling back because it wasn't his style. He was much more of a whispering type than a yelling. With a smirk, Harry beckoned to him.

When Draco stayed firmly where he was, the brunet rolled his eyes and seemed to punish Draco by turning his back to him. He put on quite a show, though. Draco couldn't stop himself from biting his lip when the man rolled his hips at him or threw his head back to the music. It was damn near sexual and god it wasn't fair because now Draco wanted him. Harry beckoned again, and this time Draco joined him.

For all his aloof behavior and introvert tendencies, Draco was not shy and especially not when it came to get someone into his bed. He didn't typically dance-unless ballroom dancing counted, which his father regularly forced him to do-but he could dance when he wanted to. And he could be very smooth when he put his mind to it. So, when Harry took his hand and pulled him out onto the floor, he had no doubt the brunet was trying to catch him off guard but Draco didn't let him. He continued the momentum, and pressed himself against Harry's back as he pulled the boy into him. Harry laughed.

"Ginny told me you weren't as shy as you looked." He must have been referring to little red but Draco didn't really care. Instead, he leaned down and brushed his lips against the shell of Harry's ear.

"I'm confident when I know what I want." The boy laughed again and tossed his head back, letting it rest on Draco's shoulder, but the smile never left his face even when Draco ground their hips together. When Harry pressed his ass back against him, offering a repeat, Draco had to grin. He buried the expression in the hollow of Harry's throat and began kissing and nipping the sensitive skin, making the boy groan, but he knew what he was doing. If Draco was anything besides rich and slightly unstable, he was a generous lover.

"You're drunk, birthday boy." Draco hummed in the boy's ear in agreement but Harry, surprisingly, pulled back enough to face him. "I bet you don't even remember my name, do you?" That made Draco stop. Since when did it matter if he knew the boy's name? This was a drunk hookup, not marriage. And, usually, he wouldn't have remembered the name quite honestly but this time he'd been paying attention.

"Harry." The brunet flushed, either with embarrassment at being wrong or with pride that Draco had remembered. "Now can we dance?" Harry nodded and started to turn back around. Draco stopped him, gripping the boy's slender hips, and shook his head. Normally, he wouldn't have refused some good old fashioned grinding because usually, when he was drunk, he didn't want to remember the person's face or who he'd slept with. But this one he wanted to see. He pulled Harry flush against his body and shuddered at the heat. Fuck this boy was sexy, even if he acted like he wasn't, and it wasn't fair.

"You're demanding." Harry laughed as he said it, but Draco let out a low growl and immediately those green eyes darkened into something less pure. Draco was not demanding-he didn't ask or tell Harry to give him anything-he merely took what was offered. And he was confident in that. He didn't give Harry time to argue, though, or find out what made him growl like that because there was too much distance between them and Draco wanted it gone. His hand tangled in that dark, messy hair and pulled Harry into a bruising kiss.

Goddamn. Draco hadn't even realized he was still tense, even with the alcohol, until Harry's lips pulled every ounce of anxiety from his body. It was like a drug and Draco relished it. The boy clearly was not very experienced, but he learned quickly and in a matter of minutes he was pulling moans from Draco almost as easily as Draco did to him. It was amazing, actually, because Draco had had good sex. But he'd never been vocal in public, and especially not while just kissing, and Blaise knew that too which was what earned him a very confused look. Harry, however, was not backing down. He rolled his hips against Draco's body and used the friction to take control of the kiss, tugging at Draco's hair until he felt like he might fall apart right then and there. Breathlessly, he broke away.

"Care to go upstairs?" Harry hesitated, so Draco quickly added. "Asking, not demanding." And then that beautiful face broke into a grin and Harry was nodding. Draco could not get him up the stairs fast enough. His body screamed at him for letting the contact break at all and, even if he wanted to carry the boy to his bedroom and kiss him the entire way, he was in a house full of people. Draco was not reserved, per se, when it came to parties but he was private when it came to that kind of vulnerability.

"You live here?" He heard the disbelief in Harry's voice but bit back a sneer as he unlocked his bedroom door.

"It's not as nice as a looks." It was, wealth wise, but there were other drawbacks that Draco didn't care to get into with his current one night stand. Instead, he walked them both back into the bedroom. He locked the door behind them.

"What do I call you?" Draco hesitated, if only for a split second, as he stripped off his suit jacket and undid his tie.

"You know my name." Harry laughed again, a sound that Draco was becoming rather accustomed to, and sat back on Draco's huge four poster bed as he kicked off his shoes.

"I do. But Pansy called you Dray and I heard another guy call you Drake so clearly you have different names for different occasions. So, I'll ask again, what do I call you?" It wasn't healthy, the way those emeralds eyes made heat crawl up Draco's chest. Harry flashed him a smirk, and Draco couldn't stop himself.

"Sir." He expected a negative reaction-actually, he expected Harry to call him a freak or just storm out-but the brunet merely smiled and undid his own tie.

"Yes sir." Fuck. The second he heard that word from Harry's mouth, Draco was done for. He'd slept with a lot of people and he'd even slept with people who had the same cocky confidence as Harry seemed to but he'd never slept with someone so… electrifying. In seconds, he was on Harry and pushing them both back onto his mattress. He pinned the boy, but Harry didn't struggle.

Their lips collided, and again Draco's control faltered. Normally, even with great sex, he was always topping and he was always sure to keep some kind of apathy if not for his own self preservation then because it was a one night stand. With this one though… The way Harry welcomed his tongue and nipped at his lower lip to distract him while he tangled a hand in his hair was just unfair. Harry rutted up against him, even if he was pinned, and tugged at the blond strands until Draco felt like he was insane.

A lot of people thought he was insane, and Draco sometimes wondered if he was, but he'd never felt insane until that very moment. His body hesitated for just a second too long and Harry took the opening. He flipped them, devouring Draco's mouth with the confidence of someone who was definitely not a virgin, and he was so goddamn distracting that Draco didn't notice him make a grab for their ties. When he felt cloth constrict on his wrists, Draco nearly screamed.

"Hey, it's okay." Harry was reassuring him, he realized, and Draco didn't really know how to feel about that. For some reason the restraints sent panic coursing through his veins. But Harry held him, kissing at his pulse point and along his collarbone until Draco stopped panting long enough to meet his eyes. He trusted those eyes, for some reason.

"I get the feeling you're used to being in control, Sir." Harry chuckled to himself. The combination of the restraints and that name, though, made Draco actually moan. Fuck what had he gotten himself into!? Above him, the brunet just laughed and began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Don't worry, Sir, you're in control. You can stop me… if you want to, that is." Harry paused, as if waiting for Draco to say something, but Draco was practically drunk on this new kind of rush so he stayed quiet. "Mmm that's what I thought, Sir." Harry used that name like a taunt and Draco fucking loved it. He wasn't sure why, exactly, because he'd had all kinds of sexual partners and some had been incredibly kinky, but something about Harry made this almost unbearable. His entire body ached and begged to be touch. Harry gave him a smirk, and then moved his lips to his chest, concentrating on Draco's nipples.

Draco arched off the bed with a yelp because he had not been expecting it to feel like his body had been set on fire. He swore, but Harry tsked at him and left a hickey on his collarbone as punishment. Draco didn't give a shit. He was too wrapped up in this, too absorbed in the sheer feeling of it all. The blond never would have admitted it, not even to himself, but the reason he loved having the parties and the fancy things that he just threw away was because it made him feel like he wasn't empty. He was used to feeling hollow. Alcohol didn't help and neither did drugs so, when he could stomach it, he chased away that emptiness with the feeling of someone else's body. Usually, he managed something akin to a candle flame of feeling.

Harry, though. Harry was starting something more like a wildfire in his chest that made his skin flare red hot and his entire body tremble at every touch. He hated it and he loved it and no matter what he just didn't want the boy to stop. Finally he felt alive and hell would freeze over before he gave that feeling up.

On top of him. Harry gave an appreciative little hum as he stripped Draco to just his boxers. He seemed to be appraising, almost, as if Draco was a toy on display in a window or something, and it wasn't natural how quickly that shot to Draco's dick. He'd had sex before-many times-but for some reason everything Harry did was fucking magical. Even just looking at him.

"Hmmm I wonder…" The musing tone made Draco whine in protest and squirm for more contact, but Harry just tsked. "Should I let you fuck me, Sir?" Draco frantically nodded and he didn't realize he was actually begging until he heard his own voice. He'd never begged before in his life. That sounded like the best goddamn thing he'd ever heard, though, and his mind was overcome by the idea of sinking into Harry's heat so he let himself beg for it. He whimpered when Harry pulled away again to face him. Harry, though, was unconcerned and just smirked.

"Or should I fuck you, Sir?" Scratch that, that was the best idea Draco had ever heard. He almost always topped and had only tried bottoming once or twice on the off chance it fixed him somehow-it hadn't. Nothing had, until now. But the part of his brain that had gone mad with desire at the thought of fucking Harry positively imploded at the idea of being fucked by Harry.

"Yes, please! God please fuck me!" Harry laughed at him, making his cheeks flush red with shame, but his body was desperate nevertheless. He squirmed under Harry's weight, desperate for any kind of touch. Pleasure or pain, he didn't give a shit as long as it came soon because he felt like he was suffocating.

"Mmm your wish is my command, Sir." Draco nearly moaned just at the words alone and he would have, if Harry's mouth hadn't suddenly travelled lower. Those lips ghosted over his stomach and down his navel to the hem of his boxers, with Harry took in his teeth and quickly removed. This was how he was going to die. All those years of emptiness, all that time of just feeling hollow, he'd thought that would kill him one day but, no, it was going to be this. And Draco was completely content with that.

Harry spent approximately thirty seconds licking and sucking at Draco's rock hard cock, which was not nearly long enough in the blond's opinion. But he didn't complain because Harry replaced his mouth with his hand and moved his tongue lower to probe at Draco's asshole.

Jesus Christ!

Draco had heard of rimming, of course, and had even done it before but he'd never let anyone do it to him before and he had been missing out. Harry managed to make him scream with just a couple well placed licks.

"You act like no one's touched you in years.." Harry mused. "I know for a fact that's not true." It wasn't true, but that was what it felt like. Draco spent so much time just being and feeling alone that physical contact had become like an unpleasant chore to him. He allowed it with Blaise and Pansy, and sometimes with Theo if he was in town, but never anyone else. Which was why he needed to be considerably drunk before approaching someone. Harry, however, didn't know just how hard those words hit him because he was focusing all of his attention on Draco's dick and ass, now probing a finger in.

"I don't care about the prep just fuck me already!" Harry tsked though in a way that was damn near parental and Draco was left to squirm.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, Sir." That name made Harry's eyes light up with laughter even if he stayed quiet because it was a joke now and Draco was clearly not in control at all. He was planning to be, but then Harry had happened. Now, Draco couldn't remember a time he'd ever enjoyed sex or topping because it hadn't been like this. Nothing like this. Not even weed was anything like the way Harry was making him feel.

"Fuck, please!" Harry added another finger, if only to make him stop begging, and Draco was temporarily content with the amount of burning in his ass. The muscles stretched and parted for the brunet easily, letting him soon insert a third. If Draco concentrated hard enough, he could imagine it was a dick. Harry's dick, not anyone else. The thought made his dick throb with need, even as Harry leisurely stroked it, and he could have come right then and there if Harry hadn't suddenly stopped.

"Don't…" That was all Draco's shaky voice could manage, but Harry didn't laugh. Instead, the brunet paused on the bed long enough to rub a soothing hand over Draco's stomach and chest, before he retrieved a condom. Draco hadn't realized how desperate he was just to make sure Harry didn't let go of him until he was gone. He fought the restraints because he couldn't slip back into that emptiness-he couldn't! Immediately, though, Harry was back beside him and rubbing comforting little patterns on his chest.

"Hey, you okay?" No joking title, no amusement in his voice. Draco just nodded because he didn't want to try to explain any part of what had just happened.

"Please just fuck me." He must have sounded enough like his old self because Harry grinned and positioned himself between Draco's legs. Even just feeling the tip at his entrance gave Draco a wave of anxiety. He rarely ever bottomed. He hadn't bottomed in a long time because he had trust issues, to say the least, and all it took was a millisecond of hesitation for him to start second guessing all of this. Harry didn't let him though.

"Hey, it's okay. I would never hurt you, okay?" Draco nodded, even if he didn't quite believe that, but it was enough because Harry pushed into him. Slowly, at first, but then suddenly he'd bottom out and Draco barely had the voice to hiss at him to move because fuck he needed it so badly. Harry did move, thank god.

It took one, complete thrust for Draco to lose himself in it again. He slipped, letting his eyes fall closed and his body relax under the ministrations of the brunet. Clearly pleased by that, Harry let his thrusts speed up and he angled perfectly-somehow-to hit Draco's prostate.

Just for a moment, Draco wasn't having sex. Just for a tiny split second, he felt the dick inside him and the warmth of the body hovering over his and he felt whole. He tugged on the restraints, just to make sure they were still there. They were, thankfully, and Draco was sure he would have ruined this if he could reach out and grab the brunet the way his body was begging him to, but he didn't. He just laid there and absorbed. And, for the first time since he could remember, he didn't feel empty. Not even a little bit.

"Fuck, Draco! Stop clenching that's cheating!" Draco had not been ready to hear his name fall from those gorgeous, bruised lips. It shot through his body like pure electricity and, for a second, he couldn't breathe because it hit him that he was really here, this was really happening. He was really feeling this. But then he comprehended what Harry had said and he realized he wasn't clenching, he was actually completely relaxed.

"I wasn't." Then Draco did clench, very purposefully, and Harry nearly fell in surprise. It was Draco's turn to laugh. Even with his wrists tied and his entire body pinned, he still had some semblance of leverage over the brunet and he was going to use it.

"Fuck you, Sir." Draco laughed again-he couldn't remember ever laughing this much, especially not during sex.

"I believe you already are, Harry." That drew a growl from the smaller man and Draco nearly came from that sound alone. It was unholy and deep and so possessive that Draco couldn't stop himself, he clenched again and again in a way he knew would make Harry impossibly close. He did it again, drawing it out, and when Harry growled into his ear, that was it. He tumbled over the edge and took Harry down with him, clinging to the brunet as his body spasmed and trembled out of his control and waves of pleasure racked his nervous system. Harry wasn't much better. When Draco came back to his body, Harry was collapsed beside him, breathing hard, and was halfway through untying Draco's wrist.

"Jesus." Harry laughed, but it was a tired laugh now. His hands were tired too, it seemed, because he struggled to untie the knots binding Draco to his own headboard. They finally gave, though. Harry fell back down beside him and evidently expected Draco to just stay where he was but, with his wrists suddenly free, Draco was overcome with the urge to touch. He pulled the smaller boy into his arms, against his chest, and just touched. He ran his hands up and down the boy's back, feeling for moles or scars or anything he could get his hands on as he made his way down his hips, over his ass cheeks, and up his chest. Surprisingly, Harry let him.

"I didn't take you for the sensual type." Draco hadn't realized he was practically massaging the boy's shoulders as he held him, but he only hesitated. He didn't stop, his body wouldn't let him stop.

"I'm not, usually." Harry hummed and wiggled closer.

"I wasn't complaining." For a few minutes, they just laid there like that while Draco busied his hands with that messy dark hair, but Harry wasn't going to just drop it. "You top usually, too?"

"Usually." Harry just nodded and let Draco play with his hair. As his hands moved lower, Draco found himself massaging along Harry's spine, digging his thumbs into his lower back and rubbing in small, concentrated circles until the boy relaxed against him. Content, Harry pressed a smile to his bare chest.

"Ginny said you do this a lot, but I don't get that impression. I did, out on the dancefloor, but not here. Was she lying?" Draco knew it was too good to be true. Of course, questions were not the end of the world and he could deal with them but he'd been hoping to make the perfect silence last. No such luck, though.

"No, she wasn't lying, I sleep with people a lot. I host parties and I hookup with people a lot. But I don't do this," He gestured between them. "A lot." Harry nodded, accepting that answer and allowing him momentary silence. Slowly, the longer they laid there, the more reciprocal their touching became. While Draco massaged, Harry ran his hands through Draco's hair and chased tremors down his sides with feather-light touches that almost didn't seem real. After a while, Harry pressed a kiss to Draco's chest.

"How're you feeling? I know that was a lot for you." Draco wanted to brush him off, to say he was fine and that it meant nothing, but the soft little touches at his waist didn't let him. He sighed, and stared deliberately at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I'm good." Harry didn't seem to believe him, so Draco continued. "Honestly, I'm better than I've been in a really long time." It was another five minutes, maybe, before Harry dared to press him again.

"You're quiet." Not an accusation, really, or a plea to talk more as much as a question. Like Harry somehow knew it was in Draco's nature to go silent whenever he was freaking out or upset.

"Just thinking." Another nod, and another kiss to his chest in what felt like a reward.

"Can I ask what about?" For a split second, Draco hesitated. He knew he shouldn't do what he was considering and, if it had been even an hour earlier, Draco would have laughed at the mere idea. But what the hell, right? He was all in, even if it killed him.

"About you." Harry waited, silently prying for more. "I've felt empty… probably my whole life. Nothing helped. No matter how much I drank, no matter what drugs I did, no matter who or how many people I slept with, I only ever scratched the surface. But you. I don't know what you did, exactly, but I felt-I feel-alive." Shockingly, Harry didn't pull away or call him crazy for saying that, even if Draco felt that way. Instead, he nuzzled closer. Pressing a smile into the hollow of Draco's throat, Harry whispered to him.

"I don't know about you, Sir," He chuckled. "But I'll gladly be your lifeline."

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