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“Harry, you’re a million miles away. What are you staring at?” Hermione looks over her shoulder in the direction that Harry is glaring. “Oh, come on, Harry. Malfoy again? I thought you two had put the past behind you after all this time? What about that inter-departmental potions ring case you've worked on together last month? I thought things were better now.”
“We have worked together,” Harry grits out. ”And things are better."
“You’re certainly not acting like it. Why are you shooting daggers at him, anyway? We’re supposed to have fun.” She pokes him in the chest with one manicured nail. “Come and dance with me.”
Harry allows her to drag him out onto the dance floor. He dutifully wraps his arms around her waist and dances. But his attention is torn as he keeps a close eye on Draco and the man he’s dancing with.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione groans as he steps on her foot for the third time. “Come on, you really have to let your grudge against Draco go. He’s not so bad now, is he?”
“No.” Harry shakes his head. “You’re right, of course, Hermione. He has changed.”
“That’s good, right? Then why don’t you stop looking at him like you want to murder him? Go over and wish him a Merry Christmas.”
“That’s a great idea, Hermione.” Harry leans down to place a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks. I think I’ll do that.”
Harry strides across the dance floor. He can tell exactly when Draco sees him coming.
“Excuse me. May I cut in?” Harry glares at the man Draco is dancing with. Jones. Or was it Johnson?
“Oh, um, yes. Of course.” The man turns to Draco. “I’ll see you later, Malfoy?” he asks hopefully.
“I wouldn’t count on it, Jenson,” Draco replies noncommittally as he turns towards Harry. “Potter. What can I do for you?"
“I want to speak with you. Privately.”
“I thought we were going to dance?” Draco asks with a smirk.
Harry just stares at him for a moment, then turns and walks towards the exit. He doesn’t have to look behind him to know that Draco follows.
—————
Harry slips into an empty room far enough from the main ballroom and waits for Draco to enter the darkened room after him. As soon as he is close enough, Harry pushes him against the wall and surges forward to kiss him.
Harry nuzzles his way down Draco’s jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses just under his ear.
Draco brings his hands up to tangle in Harry’s hair. “Jealous, Potter?”
“And if I said I was?”
“It was just a dance.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry growls into the curve of Draco’s neck. “I couldn’t stand to see his hands on you any longer.”
Draco whimpers and presses closer to Harry.
“You like that? Like it when I tell you how pretty you are?” Harry grips Draco’s waist and spins him around. He pushes him up against the wall with force and ruts his hard cock against Draco’s arse. “You are you know… the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” He bucks his hips forward as his hands move around Draco’s waist and cup Draco's cock through his slacks.
“Aren’t you afraid that someone will see us?” Draco shoves his arse back against the hardness of Harry’s dick. “What if your friends come looking for you? What if the Minister of Magic himself passes by?”
“I don’t care. Let them watch.” Harry unbuttons Draco’s trousers, lets them fall down to his knees, and shoves his boxers down after them. ”Let them see how pretty you are when you’re writhing on my cock.”
Harry runs his hands up Draco’s thighs and down to his bum. He grips the firm globes and uses his fingers to spread Draco's cheeks apart.
Draco arches his back and shoves his arse out even more.
“That’s it, beautiful. Let me see that sweet arse of yours.” Harry traces a finger down the center of Draco’s crack, circles his hole, and presses in easily where Draco's still loose from their fuck earlier.
Draco shoves back on Harry’s finger, tries to get more — get him to go deeper, but Harry just teases him. He slides his finger out and takes a moment to massage Draco's rim, just pets that little furl as it pulses for him.
“Please, Potter,” Draco begs as Harry pushes two fingers inside of him.
Harry crooks his fingers and presses against Draco's prostate. “Could you come just like this?” he asks. “Just from my fingers in your arse?”
“Fuck you,” Draco whimpers.
“That’s the idea. But first I want you to fuck yourself on my hand. Get yourself stretched wide for me.”
Draco whines; he mutters a few more curses, but he obeys. Even with his legs restrained in his trousers, he shoves his arse back and fucks himself on Harry’s fingers like a champ. Soon he’s moaning Harry’s name over and over again.
Harry kisses his shoulder. He leans down and presses his mouth against Draco's skin, biting softly.
When Draco’s thoroughly stretched, Harry slides his fingers out. He pulls out his wand and conjures some lube. He slicks his cock and presses it between Draco’s cheeks.
He catches on the rim first, then slides easily inside Draco’s stretched hole. Draco moans and pushes back against him, urging him on.
Harry's hips thrust faster and faster as he chases his orgasm. He moves his hand from Draco’s hip around to his cock and strokes him with the rhythm of his thrusts.
“You feel so good, Draco," Harry groans. "Fuck, are you close?”
“Mmphh.” Draco's whole body trembles and Harry can feel Draco's balls tighten.
Draco’s knees go weak as he comes, and Harry thinks he would collapse if he wasn't trapped between Harry’s arms and the wall.
One last, slow thrust, and Harry comes with a shout as his orgasm crashes over him. His hips drive forward harder as he fills Draco with his come. He catches his breath, sucks in the air; he kisses Draco's neck softly, straightens and pulls out.
“I want to touch you in front of everyone.” Harry leans close again, pressing his finger inside Draco, pushing his come deeper. “I want to be the one who's holding you on the dance floor.”
“If I recall, you were also the one who thought it would be all too much for us to arrive together,” Draco reminds him.
“I was fucking wrong. Next time, you’ll enter by my side. Everyone will know you’re mine and no one else will dare get near you — especially not Jones.”
“You know his name is Jenson, Potter.” Draco chuckles softly.
“I really don’t,” Harry says. And he doesn't. “I guess I need to fuck you again — until the only name you can remember is mine.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Draco laughs and turns his head to kiss him. ”My place or yours?”
The End