Title: A Feeling Like Flying
Gift For: sp_owl for the HD_Owlpost 2014 Holiday Exchange Fest on Livejournal
Summary: "They say you can't go on without me, but it's me who would be completely lost without you."
Word Count: 2000
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Veela, sex, implied mpreg, and some (hinted past) angst

His eyes opened to darkness, and he gasped for breath. His legs were tangled, wrapped in damp clinging cloth, and he grasped at them in panic. "Draco, it's okay. It's okay." The arm that stretched around him was hard and tight, though the voice breathing hotly in his ear registered familiarly. "Breathe. It was a dream. Breathe."

He followed the voice, took a breath and the world settled. The dark room became his room; his bed was damp underneath him, and he shivered in the chill of his drying sweat. He felt the warm heat of Harry against him, and he shivered again, clutching at it, pulling the warmth closer. "Shh. It was a dream." Harry's voice was muddled with sleep though he tightened his grip, pulling Draco ever so slightly closer.

Draco curled in, and when Harry rolled onto his back, Draco snuggled up onto his chest and tucked his head under Harry's chin. "I had the dream again."

Harry's hand faltered before it moved up to his hair, stroking slowly. "I could tell. You talk in your sleep sometimes." Then, quieter, "I'm sorry, Draco."

Draco said nothing to that. He didn't remember the dreams or what had led up to them; he'd been prescribed a selective Obliviate by his Healer six weeks ago. He only remembered enough for glimpses: darkness, yelling, and a pain like death, sharper than the Cruciatus. It was enough to know he didn't want to remember. Objectively, that there were only a handful of things which could cause that feeling, much less that would necessitate an Obliviate being prescribed...

The list was short, and he knew he shouldn't even think about them. It was bad enough that Harry was obviously thinking it, his heart beating under Draco's ear in much too rapid a pace to be relaxing back to somnolence.

He snuggled closer, and the hand running through his hair dropped to trace patterns against his neck. He hated the strain, the guilt that he knew Harry was feeling, so danger be damned. He went with the most probable cause: "You weren't to know. Neither of us could."

"You almost died. I almost lost you both entirely."

The words were quiet, but they still made Draco shudder, a hand dropping to the very slight roundness of his belly. Losing Harry was something he couldn't bear to think about even in the hypothetical. "You didn't know."

Harry sighed. "I know. I never wanted... I just wasn't thinking."

"Please stop. You thinking about this is going to make me try to think about it." Draco leaned up to meet Harry's gaze. "I don't want to think about this. I don't want to wonder about the specifics. I don't want to remember."

Harry made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, pulling Draco close and kissing him deeply. The feeling was like it always was between them: like flying, and he eagerly welcomed the embrace, climbing on top of Harry to tangle his own fingers in Harry's hair. He could feel the faint wetness where Harry's tears had leaked across his temples, and he brushed them gently with each thumb, pulling away to blink through his own tears at Harry below him.

"You're beautiful." Harry's words were reverent, and his hands reached for the wings that had unfurled from Draco's back with the first touch of tongues. Draco could feel the flush of embarrassment fighting with the flush of arousal. Harry was enamored with the large white wings, though Draco still couldn't feel used to them.

Then Harry was touching them, tracing the feathers with gentle fingers, and each touch caused a spark of arousal that stretched down his spine. He whimpered, and watched as the sound caused Harry's pupils to blow. "Fuck, I love you like this." Harry reached again, grasping the wings with more strength. "Absolutely helpless."

Draco couldn't refute it; the feeling of Harry's hand stroking firmly against his wing might as well have been a hand on his cock. Instead he focused on turning the tables as best he was able, reaching behind himself to grasp Harry's swiftly-hardening cock in return.

Harry's gasp sounded strangled, and his hand dropped from Draco's wings to grasp at his hip, rocking into Draco's hand. Draco grinned wickedly down at him. "Look who's helpless now."

Harry laughed at that, and Draco leaned in again, unable to resist the lure of his smiling face. He loved kissing Harry, the feeling of rightness had always been present, even before he'd known of his heritage. Harry seemed to feel it as well, for he'd always sought any excuse to pull him close in a snog.

This was no different. Harry ignored the hardness of his cock, twining the fingers of one hand in Draco's hair, the other stroking around his side to rest gently on his belly. "I love you, you know." The words were breathless between kisses, and Draco could fill the trill building in his throat. "They say you can't go on without me, but it's me who would be completely lost without you."

Draco pulled back, stared at Harry. Harry wasn't usually one for declarations; dirty talk in the bedroom was much more common than I love yous, so the sudden outpouring left Draco shaken.

He hated admitting insecurities, but Harry's face was so open in that moment. "It's not... You didn't expect to be mated... or..." Draco's flush deepened painfully, his hand dropping to rest beside Harry's on his belly.

Something in Harry's expression deepened at that, and he shook his head slightly, gaze locked on Draco's. "Someone I was meant to love, and was meant to always love me? A family, forever? What could possibly make me regret that?"

The trill poured from Draco's throat without his conscious direction, and his wings fluttered and trembled at the feeling that overflowed at Harry's words. Harry reached up again, pulling Draco's head closer until they were sharing breaths. He tilted his head down, pressing a brief kiss to Harry's lips, and then another, letting this one deepen again.

Harry arched up against him again, abruptly reminding him of the state of their cocks and he groaned. Harry smiled, lips twisting against Draco's. "God, please Draco." His hands wandered down around Draco's arse, one finger reaching to tease his crack.

Draco moaned, pressing back against Harry's finger. "Lube." Harry cursed, pushing Draco off his lap and rolled to the nightstand, digging inside for the pot of slick.

Draco reached out, running his hands along the smooth planes of Harry's back, unable to resist the softness of his skin. Harry grinned back at him, his expression wicked as he uncorked the pot, dipping his fingers inside. "Gonna fuck you, you know."

Draco laughed, happy to let Harry lighten the mood. "I couldn't tell."

"Right there on your knees, I think." Harry continued as if Draco hadn't spoken, manhandling Draco onto hands and knees. "It's been what? A week? I like you like that, all arse and wing."

"You're the arse," Draco muttered rolling his eyes, but he settled into a comfortable position.

Harry swatted him lightly before he slid his slicked finger along Draco's arse, opening him gently. "I love your arse. Always have." Draco closed his eyes, just feeling that single finger sliding slowly into him. "Even when you were just an arse, you always had a good one."

"That makes no sense." Draco groaned as the finger twisted and rubbed inside him. Then a second finger pressed in as well. "Fuck..."

"Mmhmm." Harry's voice was distracted as the two twisting fingers were removed, leaving Draco feeling loosened and edgy. Soon, he felt the blunt prodding of Harry's cock against him, and his sigh echoed Harry's as he bore back against the pressure and Harry slid inside.

Harry paused once he was fully seated, which he always did, and waited, which always made Draco want to slap him. He held Draco's hips fast, and after several breaths slid a hand up Draco's back, rubbing gently at the base of his wings. He whimpered, taking advantage of the movement to buck back against Harry.

Harry's grip firmed and he slid out slowly, only to thrust in again, then again. "Good? Yeah?"

Draco made a noise he hoped sounded like assent. The slick slide within him coupled with the grip at the base of his wing was quickly sending him spiraling, and he was certain he was going to come embarrassingly quickly.

Luckily, Harry seemed to understand, for he sacrificed his earlier slow pace for something more brutal, and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room above the noise of gasping breaths.

Draco could feel his wings sway, counterbalancing each thrust, and he braced his arms to keep his face from being shoved into the pillow. Even still, he felt like Harry's hand on his wing pulling him back with every thrust was all that was keeping him upright.

He hadn't a hope of reaching his cock and he whimpered again, wanting nothing more than to grasp it, to pull it twice. Maybe three times. Three times and he would come.

"Shhh, I've got you. Hush." Harry's voice was a hot breath on the back of his neck, and the hand not grasping his wing reached around. He felt Harry's thrusts become shallower as he wrapped himself around Draco, grasping and tugging his cock.

The sound he made when, on the fifth pull, he spurted across the bedsheets would have been embarrassing if he was in the mental place to care. But while the lassitude flooded his body, Harry hauled him more upright until he was straddling Harry's lap, wings retracted and his back pressed so firmly to Harry's chest that it was almost like they were one person. The hard jabs to his prostate from that position were almost painful in their intensity, and he whimpered again at the overstimulation. His cock couldn't soften, and it continued to barely leak as each thrust milked the orgasm further and further.

He knew better than to complain. Harry wouldn't listen, he liked it when Draco was 'helpless and utterly wrecked' and bringing attention to it would invariably lead to smug preening for the next several days. Besides, as much as he would deny it, the description was pretty accurate to his feelings at the moment, and it took more effort than he cared to admit to pull his thoughts together enough to clench his arse, causing Harry to groan as he lost control of his rhythm. He was soon rewarded by the string of half-murmered profanity as Harry buried his face in Draco's shoulder and stilled.

It was several moments before Harry gently pushed Draco forward, uncoupling them with an awkward squelch that made Draco grimace. He braced himself as he fell forward, rolling into Harry's usual spot on the bed and grinning up at him. Harry just eyed the wet spot before shaking his head with a faint grin, vanishing the mess and collapsing there.

"Lazy bastard." Harry's tone was fond, and his face relaxed in an open grin. "If you were a Muggle, you'd have to just suck it up and deal with that wetspot."

"That's why I'm not. And what I keep you around for." But he couldn't leave the comment like that, even as obviously joking as they were, and he leaned in to press a sweet kiss to Harry's mouth.

Harry's arm came around him, pulling him close in a hug before it relaxed. "Feeling better?"

Draco blinked, having entirely forgotten the dream that had woken him. "Yes."

"Good. I love you."

He let Harry manhandle him into a more comfortable position before replying, "I love you."

The faint squeeze of Harry's hand on his shoulder was the last thing he felt before sleep took him. Safe. Home.