hpkinkfest | Come For Me

It was a serious dilemma: Should he tell Draco ahead of time? Or just take him to Hyde Park and surprise him?

If he told Draco ahead of time, Draco might be furious and force Harry to cancel, but if Harry just took him to Hyde Park without saying anything, Draco might be just as furious that he’d been “ambushed.”

Just bring him, Tatiana Owled him when Harry asked her advice. He’ll have less of a fit in a public place in front of a stranger than he’d have if it was just the two of you alone at home.

Hermione agreed, which had made up his mind. Hermione never gave him bad advice, and for some reason she seemed to “just get” Draco – odd as that was.

June first was sunny and warm, and Draco was eager to get outside. They were just finishing a late breakfast (after a morning of sex and a subsequent post-sex restorative nap) when Harry said as nonchalantly as possible that he had a good idea for something to do for the afternoon.

Draco nicked a piece of toast off Harry’s plate and slathered it with marmalade.

“Yes?”

Harry took a deep breath.

“Let’s go to Hyde Park – the wizarding part.”

Draco frowned.

“That’s a long way from here,” he said after washing down his toast with the last of his tea.

“We can take my car . . .”

“No!” Draco snapped, and Harry kicked himself for forgetting how much Draco hated his little roadster

“We can take the Knight Bus.”

Draco turned slightly green at the suggestion.

“There’s never been a time when I’ve taken that bloody bus that I haven’t got sick.”

“Er, then how about a taxi?”

Draco scowled. He hated travelling like a Muggle.

“I hate that I can’t Apparate,” he muttered, “or fly.”

He sighed unhappily, which only made Harry more determined to get him to the park – and hopefully (please, God!) on a broom.

“Can’t we just go to our park?”

It was Harry’s turn to sigh. He was so tired of “their” park.

“C’mon, Draco. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s try something new . . .”

Then it came to him!

“What if I firecalled Ron and Pansy to see if they can go with us? We could take their new flying car.”

Draco perked up. Harry knew he’d been wanting to try the car, and plus Pansy would be with them. She always knew how to calm Draco down when he got in a snit.

Fortunately Ron and Pansy were home and didn’t have plans for the afternoon. Pansy even offered to put together a picnic lunch.

“We’ll meet you in the empty car park behind the museum,” Ron said.

When Harry stood up and turned around, he saw that Draco was smiling broadly. Harry knew why. Draco hated going places that Harry had to push him to; he always wanted to wheel himself as a matter of pride. The museum wasn’t terribly far away and the pavement was smooth.

Pansy was driving and her landing was impeccable; much better than Ron’s would’ve been. Ron got out of the passenger-side door, and Harry helped Draco get in before shrinking his chair and joining Ron in the backseat.

Pansy smiled and kissed Draco’s cheek.

“Lovely to see you, darling. You look dashing.”

“Dashing? In jeans and one of Harry’s nasty old t-shirts? For some reason he wanted me to dress like he used to when we were First Years.”

He held the t-shirt out to show Pansy the faded logo for Puma Sprint trainers.

“Very gauchely Muggle, don’t you agree?”

“Buy your own t-shirts then,” Harry groused.

When Draco and Pansy started gossiping intently about their fellow Slytherins, Harry leaned toward Ron.

“Listen,” he whispered. “You know the Hyde Park pitch?”

“Yeah, nicest in London, if you ask me.”

“Well, we need to go there.”

Ron turned his head and frowned at him.

“I thought we couldn’t go near anything that might remind him of Quidditch.”

Harry took a deep breath. Except for Hermione, he hadn’t told anyone about Tatiana.

“Don’t let on,” he whispered, “but I’ve hired someone who might be able to help Draco fly again.”

“Does he know?”

Harry winced.

“Er . . .”

“Shit, he doesn’t know. Harry, are you mad? He’s going to hex your bollocks off.”

“Which is why I need you and Pansy to stay with us.”

Ron groaned.

“Lovely. This is exactly what I’d hoped to do today – cast Protego in an effort to save your arse when Malfoy tries to separate you from your bollocks. I’m glad we’re paying a million Galleons for a babysitter. Thanks for the heads-up, mate.”

The instant Draco realised they were flying in the direction of the pitch, he turned around to look at Harry.

“Potter . . .”

Then he looked down and saw Tatiana in her wheelchair waving up at them.

“Potter,” he said again. His voice was low and level, which was never a good sign. “What have you done?”

Harry swallowed.

“Land here, baby,” Ron said, “then draw your wand and run for cover.”

Harry smiled weakly, hoping he could get Draco to smile as well, but Draco was stony-faced. His eyes were hard and dark with anger.

Pansy landed the car near Tatiana, and she wheeled over them. They all got out except for Draco who had his arms crossed and was staring straight ahead. Harry could tell he was shaking and felt horribly guilty. Why on earth had he thought this was a good idea?

“Hiya, Harry,” Tatiana said and shook his hand.

“This is Ron and Pansy,” Harry muttered, gesturing weakly at them.

“Hello,” Tatiana said cheerfully. “And from the scowl I see on the face of the handsome man in the car, I’m guessing he must be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Harry said and then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I think perhaps we shouldn’t go through with this. He’s extreme upset.”

She nodded.

“I can tell. Why don’t the three of you go for a nice leisurely walk?”

Harry was alarmed. He glanced at Draco, who was pale and still shaking.

“I don’t think I should leave him . . .”

“But that’s exactly what you need to do. Harry, you’re paying a lot of Galleons for me because I’m very very good at what I do, and plus, like I said the other day, I’m a Slytherin. I know how the Slytherin brain works.”

Harry bit his lip, but then he nodded and straightened.

“Let’s go look at the Grindylow pond,” he called to Pansy and Ron, and then, at Tatiana’s instruction, he retrieved Draco’s chair from the boot and then left without saying anything to Draco or even looking back.

It was one of the worst afternoons of his life. Pansy had put together a fabulous lunch, but Harry couldn’t even eat. His stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out. When he even declined a mimosa, Pansy reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“What you did,” she said, sounding a bit like she was choking up, “. . . what you’ve done for him. He’s so lucky he has you.”

“He’s never going to forgive me,” Harry said weakly. “I’ve really fucked up.”

“I don’t know about that,” Pansy said. “It’s almost evening. Let’s go back and see how he’s doing.”

They were just walking over the little hill that marked the edge of the pitch when Harry saw him.

Draco was sitting astride a broom and hovering about five feet in the air. Moreover, he and Tatiana were laughing their arses off about something, clearly enjoying one another’s company.

But best of all Draco’s face was radiant, and his cheeks were a healthy pink from sun and exertion.

“See,” Pansy said, nudging Harry in the ribs. “You need to trust your instincts more when it comes to him. You love him madly. Your heart would never let you do something that it thought might hurt him.”

“Merlin’s knickers, Pans,” Ron said. “Since when were you such a sap?”

She laughed and kissed him, and he picked her up and swung her around until the picnic basket in her hand flew open, and the grass around them was strewn with plates and silverware and half-eaten baguettes.

Despite Draco’s apparent good mood, Harry still approached him cautiously. Just because things had gone well didn’t mean that Draco wasn’t still furious at him for having “tricked” him.

“Potter!” Draco yelled. “You better get some flying practise or I’m going to kick your flabby arse!”

Harry laughed and ran across the pitch toward him.

“Flabby?” he panted as he trotted up to Draco, grinning like an idiot. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Ugh,” said Ron. “Please do not subject me to any more remarks like that. I haven’t finished digesting my lunch yet.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Draco said amiably. He dipped nearer to the ground and beckoned Harry closer to him.

“Straddle the broom and face me,” Draco whispered. “And hold my waist to keep me steady.”

Harry did what he said, and then Draco was kissing him breathless.

“I am going to make you a very very happy man tonight,” he murmured against Harry’s ear, and then they kissed again until Ron groaned like he was dying from a head wound.

“Next week then?” Tatiana asked.

Draco suddenly looked crestfallen.

“I have to wait until next week?”

Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck.

“It’s very important that you get some rest between sessions,” Tatiana said. “And I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind helping you practise. He looks every enthusiastic.”

Harry grinned at her and then let go of Draco to hug her too.

“Thank you,” he whispered fiercely against her ear. “Thank you.”

* * * *

“I must have the strongest bladder muscles in the world,” Draco said, patting his belly. “Too bad there are no competitions for longest duration of urine retention.”

“You could start a club,” Harry suggested, topping off Draco’s umpteenth glass of Pellegrino.

“It would be a very dull sport. All the competitors would be doing is drinking water and sitting until they’re about to burst and have to sprint to the loo. I doubt we’d secure any corporate sponsors – except maybe the makers of adult diapers.”

“Hmm, you may have a point there. More pasta?”

Draco shook his head and pushed his plate away.

“Have to stay lean for Quidditch.” He smirked at Harry. “Unlike some people who’ve already had two servings and look to be angling for a third.”

Harry shook his head fondly and poured himself an after-dinner glass of ice wine – another one of Draco’s many influences.

“So,” Draco said, leaning back in his wheelchair and holding his stem glass of Pellegrino between his fingers as though it was a flute of champagne. “You’ve had more than ample time to tell me what you want tonight. Besides treacle tart, which will most certainly keep for a couple of hours while we’re otherwise occupied.”

Harry blushed, his face very hot, and looked away. He hadn’t felt this shy around Draco for a long time . . . but this was not an everyday kind of request.

Neither was it something he’d just thought up that evening; in fact, he’d been thinking about it – and even doing a little research – for weeks. He hadn’t been sure he’d find the nerve to even mention it, let alone ask for it. But Draco was so happy and so grateful, and he so clearly desired to give something special and important to Harry in gratitude for hiring Tatiana . . . maybe he could ask tonight. If Draco was horrified, they could just forget about it. Harry could even laugh it off . . .

. . . but what if he agreed?

Harry pretended he was closing his eyes in order to better savour his ice wine, when in fact he’d got a little dizzy from the mere thought that Draco would grant him his wish.

“Well?”

“Er.”

Draco arched an eyebrow.

“Your silence is ominous. Please tell me it doesn’t involve Pygmy Puffs.”

Harry laughed so hard he got wine up his nose, which did not feel particularly nice.

“No Pygmy Puffs,” he wheezed.

“Thank Merlin. I think I can handle anything as long as it doesn’t require rainbow hued vermin.”

“No vermin,” Harry assured him. “No kind of animal at all, in fact.”

Draco wiped his brow as though he’d broken out in an anxious sweat.

After a moment, Harry filled his glass again. He couldn’t look directly at Draco’s face, so he stared down at the grain in the oak table. A silent seriousness slowly filled the room, leaving only the sounds of tires on wet pavement and the occasional distant siren to punctuate the sound of the steady rain against the windows.

“Harry,” Draco said softly.

Harry took a deep breath and released it.

“I want you to make me pregnant.”

When Draco didn’t say anything, Harry risked a glance at him.

Draco was looking at him, but his expression was more bewildered than disgusted.

“You want what?” he asked.

“I said,” Harry whispered, “I want you to make me pregnant.”

Draco arched both eyebrows at him.

“Uhm, you do realise that men can’t get pregnant, right? Or have you discovered that your superior magical abilities make you different?”

Harry bit back a nervous laugh.

“Of course I know that men can’t get pregnant.”

“And even if they could, I wouldn’t be able to do the job because, as you well know, I can’t . . . Oh!”

Harry swallowed as he watched understanding fill Draco’s wide eyes.

“Oh,” he said again, much softer this time.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Harry started to babble. “I mean, I know it’s pretty weird, and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable . . .”

He stopped when he realised that Draco’s surprise was rapidly giving way to arousal.

“Wow,” Draco breathed. “Wow . . .”

Harry blushed again.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty darn kinky.”

“Oh my God . . .” Draco said, his voice still no louder than a whisper. “You’d do that for me? Harry, I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

Harry felt his own eyes widen with surprise.

“So, you’d . . . you want this?”

Draco eyes filled with disbelieving tears.

“I’ve wanted this for ages,” he said. “I was just too terrified to say anything. I thought it might finally push you over the edge . . .”

“It might push me over the edge,” Harry replied. “But a very different type of edge than you mean.”

Draco closed his eyes and swallowed audibly. He’d set down his glass of Pellegrino, which was a good thing because he was trembling all over. He swallowed again.

“But how?” he whispered hoarsely.

“I . . . I’ve been doing a little research,” Harry said. “We’re not the only two people in the world doing what we do. Other people have tried it . . .”

“But probably those people are heterosexual couples. A vagina is much more open and easier to penetrate than an arsehole.”

“Hence the plug I bought.”

Draco inhaled sharply. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Long enough. And I hope you won’t be shocked when I tell you I have the plug in right now. I was hoping I’d find the courage to ask you tonight.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

Draco wheeled around the table until he was close enough to simultaneously kiss Harry and put his hands between Harry’s legs.

“You’re so hard,” he murmured, kneading Harry’s cock. “You want this so much, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Harry murmured back, thrusting his hips up against Draco’s hand.

“You want me to come inside you.” Draco’s voice was rough with hunger. “You want me to fill you with my come. You want me to fuck you and empty my balls in your arse.”

Harry groaned in affirmation and tilted his head back. Draco was no longer the only one trembling.

“I’m going to make you pregnant, Harry. My come is going to make you pregnant. There’s going to be so much of it that you won’t be able to hold it all in.”

Harry spread his legs and moved closer to the edge of his chair so that Draco could reach lower and feel the base of the plug.

“Fuck,” Draco moaned. “Can’t wait much longer – my balls are aching . . . where should we go?”

“Bed,” Harry gasped. “Now.”

“You go first and get yourself ready. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Hurry!”

Draco smirked. “A horny little virgin, are we?”

Harry lost his mind just a little bit more when he got the message Draco was conveying to him. Harry wasn’t just going to get pregnant, he was going to be a virgin.

“All it’ll take is one of my orgasms to knock you up,” Draco purred. “My come’s that potent. He wheeled back a little ways so that Harry had room to stand, and then he pulled off his shirt and drew his wand. He said a Transfiguration spell, and suddenly he was no longer holding a shirt but a white silk mid-thigh-length camisole with thin straps.

“Mmmm,” he said, handing it to Harry. “Looks like just your size.”

The silk was cool and caught slightly on the skin of Harry’s calloused hands. He closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath. He couldn’t wait to feel it against his nipples and cock.

“Go get ready, my blushing bride,” Draco said with a wink.

Harry was breathing so fast and shallowly by the time he reached the bedroom that he started to feel light-headed and dizzy. He forced himself to sit down and take several deep inhalations before he got undressed.

The cool silk of the camisole against his hot skin felt even better than he’d imagined it would. He groaned as he tugged it down over his straining cock, enjoying the way it stuck to the head, which was already wet. He began stroking himself through the silk with a loose grip while at the same time pinching and tugging on his nipples, but he had to stop after only a few seconds; he was too close. He let go of his cock and reached around his back so he could pull out the plug. His arse was loose and slick with the copious amount of lube he’d prepared himself with. He shivered as he traced the sensitive skin with his finger before sliding it into his rectum, which was just as slick and ready as his sphincter.

He flicked his wand at the bed and changed the sheets from light blue cotton to Slytherin green satin, figuring that taking his new bride against his House colours would give Draco an added sense of power and virility. Harry knew that no matter what happened, it was going to be good for him, but he wanted it to be equally good for Draco.

He pulled back the corner of the duvet and slid under the sheets. The only light in the room came from a small lamp on the bureau. He waited, growing more and more excited, until finally he heard Draco enter the room and inhale sharply.

“God,” he said, swallowing audibly.

He wheeled over to the bedside.

“Do you want help?” Harry asked, but Draco shook his head.

“I’m the one making the calls tonight,” he said sternly. “You just lie back and let me take care of you.”

It took less time that usual for Draco to get into bed and lie down beside Harry. When he was settled comfortably on his side, he reached out and tenderly tucked a lock of hair behind Harry’s ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ve been waiting for this moment all day. That stupid wedding reception couldn’t be over soon enough.”

Harry bit back a nervous laugh and instead gave Draco what he hoped was the kind of smile a nervous virgin would give her husband when she found herself at last in bed with him after Merlin only knows how many months of courtship.

Draco reached out and traced one of the camisole’s straps with a fingertip, making Harry shiver. Draco’s responding smile was both gently amused and covetous. He slid the strap off Harry’s shoulder and then propped himself on his elbow so he could kiss Harry’s throat and collarbone. Harry’s shiver turned into a light trembling as desire spiked in his chest.

“You smell so lovely,” Draco murmured against Harry’s skin.

Harry gasped when Draco placed his palm on Harry’s sternum and slid it down the length of Harry’s chest, stopping just short of his cock.

“Ssshhh.”

Draco hushed him with a fingertip pressed lightly against Harry’s lips.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m going to take care of you,” he said and then leaned down and kissed Harry sweetly and almost chastely. “It’s going to feel good. I promise.”

He turned his head so he could mouth one of Harry’s nipples through the silk, sucking and licking gently, sending shocks of pure, undiluted pleasure through Harry’s entire body. He arched his back slightly in an effort to get closer to Draco’s warm, searching mouth.

“You like that,” Draco murmured before he turned his attention to Harry’s other nipple, mouthing and licking it until the silk around it was wet. And then he kissed both nipples lingeringly.

“Your body craves my touch. Your mind might still be afraid, but your body isn’t. It wants me. It wants me to mount you and put my cock inside you.”

He went back to sucking on Harry’s nipples, pulling them into his mouth and flicking them with the tip of his tongue.

“I wish I could taste your milk; I want to know how sweet it’ll be for our baby. But I won’t have to wait long before you start to lactate. I’m going to make you pregnant tonight. My come is going to make you pregnant.”

Harry whimpered. He’d never been so aroused.

“Please,” he gasped as Draco placed a possessive hand on his belly.

“Nobody’s going to believe you weren’t pregnant before tonight because I’m going to do it the first time I come inside you. Everybody will wonder if you were still a virgin before I bedded you tonight, but we’ll know the truth, won’t we? Bend your legs, my darling.”

Harry obeyed with a sigh of surrender as though he really was waiting to be fucked for the first time. Draco heard it, and his breath hitched in his chest.

“I’m going to put a finger in you,” his whispered roughly against Harry’s ear. “Don’t be afraid. It’s going to feel good.”

He reached down, ignoring Harry’s cock, until he touched Harry’s loosened arsehole. Harry whimpered as Draco slipped his finger inside him.

“So wet,” Draco murmured. “You’re ready for me. You’re ready for my cock.”

He started fingering Harry and groaned deep in his chest when Harry pushed his arse against his hand.

“Baby,” he gasped. “You’re so eager, so tight.” He found Harry’s prostate, and Harry cried out.

“I could make you come with my finger, but I want to make you come with my cock. I want your first orgasm to squeeze the come out of my balls. But first I want to taste your juices.”

He threw back the duvet and sheets and pushed himself down toward the bottom of the bed so he could put his head between Harry’s bent knees. He placed his hands on Harry’s hips and slowly pushed up the camisole until it bunched around Harry’s waist.

“Put a pillow under your bum and pull your legs back, flower,” Draco said.

Harry waited with held breath for the first touch of Draco’s tongue, and when he felt it, he sobbed with hunger. Draco’s touch was so tender but also unapologetically probing.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against Harry’s flexing hole. “I could eat you all night. Your flavours are so delicate and nuanced – better than the finest wine.”

After a couple of minutes, Draco stopped licking Harry’s arse and returned to fingering him, making sure that with every inward press of his finger, he touched Harry’s prostate until Harry needed to come so badly that he writhed against the satin sheets, and the camisole clung to his sweat-damp skin.

“It’s going to hurt at first when I put my cock in you, my angel. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but you have to understand that I’m a man and have needs. I’m going to want to bury my cock inside you and take you. My balls are so full of come.”

By this point, Harry was on the verge of losing his mind. He couldn’t stop moaning and whimpering and struggling to take Draco’s finger deeper . . .

But Draco was still wearing his pyjama bottoms, and Harry had no idea how he’d be able to put his only half-hard cock in Harry’s arse without taking them off first – after all, penetration was going to be difficult even without any impediment. He didn’t want to say anything and wreck Draco’s fantasy . . . but then Draco said the words Harry had been wanting to hear him say forever – a Banishing spell used for the sole purpose of undressing.

Harry tried not to shake apart. For the first time since Draco’s injury, he was going to feel Draco’s bare legs and groin against his own.

Once he was completely naked, Draco pulled himself up using the headboard until he and Harry were face to face again, and Draco’s hips were between Harry’s legs.

He could tell Draco was nervous as Harry drew his thighs back against his chest as far as he could, exposing and opening his arse.

“You’re going to have to help me,” Draco whispered, his voice quavering. Harry propped himself up on his elbows and reached between his legs until he found Draco’s swollen cock and then used its tip to find his entrance.

It took a distressingly long time to achieve penetration, and Harry was very aware of Draco’s heart pounding in his chest. But at last . . .

He groaned raggedly when he finally managed to push Draco’s cock inside him.

“Am I in?” Draco gasped.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are,” Harry gasped in reply.

“How does it feel? Tell me.”

Harry didn’t have to lie or pretend. It felt amazing. Draco was only partially hard, but his cock was big enough to begin with that it filled Harry’s arse quite nicely.

“So good,” Harry said, out of breath and panting.

“Can you really feel it?”

“Hell, yes, I can!”

Draco laughed breathlessly.

“I don’t think a virginal bride would swear like an Auror.”

Harry laughed and then arched his back to take Draco deeper.

“I can’t thrust,” Draco said. “You’re going to have to fuck yourself.”

“Now who sounds like an Auror?”

They laughed again, but then they stopped talking because what was happening between them was too important to defile with silliness.

“Are you close?” Draco whispered after a couple of delicious minutes of moving against each other.

Harry could only nod. He’d been close forever, but he’d wanted this to last as long as he could make it.

“Do you think you can come when I do?” Draco asked.

“No ‘thinking’ about it. I know I can,” Harry whispered in reply.

“Just tell me when.”

Harry reached down and clutched Draco bare arse for the first time since that long ago night at Ron and Pansy’s engagement party. It felt good under his hands – not as muscular as it used to be, but still round and firm. He held Draco’s hips still and ground his cock against Draco’s pubic hair until his eyes watered from having held back for too long.

“Come for me, Draco,” he gasped. “Come for me!”

At first he couldn’t feel much, but then he felt liquid heat start to fill him. Draco was pissing in his arse! It blew Harry’s mind completely.

“I’m coming!” Draco cried out brokenly. “I’m coming, Harry. I’m coming inside you; I’m making you pregnant. Oh, God, I’m coming . . .”

Harry couldn’t take it another second. He threw back his head and arched against Draco’s chest and came all over the sweat-soaked camisole and both of their stomachs. He shook and shook and couldn’t stop shaking as he gasped and panted into the crook between Draco’s neck and shoulder.

It was a very long time before either of them spoke or even moved.

At last, Draco pushed himself up with his arms and looked down at Harry’s face. He looked just as awed and radiant as he’d looked on his broom that afternoon.

“Did you feel it?” he whispered, still sounding breathless.

Oh, yes,” Harry said emphatically. “It felt amazing.”

Draco blushed. “Do you think you still have any of it inside you?”

Draco had pissed for so long, and there’d been so much of it. Harry was pretty sure his arse still held some urine. He nodded.

“I think so.”

Draco’s blush deepened.

“I want to watch it flow out.”

Harry groaned. He hadn’t planned on asking for it that night, given the thing he’d already asked for, but he’d been fantasizing about a piss enema for a long time.

“Me too,” he said roughly.

“When I pull out, clench your arse as much as you can and then go to the tub. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Harry placed his hands on Draco’s hips and pushed them up until Draco’s cock slipped out with a gush of piss. Harry instant squeezed his sphincter and got up. He and Draco both watched a trickle of urine flow down the insides of Harry’s thighs and puddle on the wood floor.

“Tub,” Draco rasped, his eyes riveted to the sight. “I’ll be able to see it better.”

The walk to the bathroom was awkward. Harry was pretty sure he looked like a constipated troll, but he didn’t care. The feeling of being full was intensely arousing, and he felt his cock stiffening.

It seemed like he’d been standing in the tub for an eternity when Draco finally wheeled in. Harry noticed with disappointment that he’d put on his pyjama bottoms again.

“Ready?” Harry squeaked once Draco had positioned himself for the best view.

“Poor Harry,” Draco purred. “Yes, I’m more than ready. Let go as slowly as you can.”

Draco had barely stopped speaking when Harry started to relax his anal muscles. The piss trickled out of his body and down his legs, pooling at his feet. The contrast between yellow and gleaming white porcelain was gorgeous.

And it felt so good. Almost as good as coming.

Draco groaned loudly and starting tugging on his nipples.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for forever,” he said. “You’re hard, Harry. Make yourself come.”

But watching Draco’s piss flow over his skin had given him another idea.

“Piss on me,” he whispered.

Draco’s eyes flew open, but not with arousal. He suddenly looked positively terrified.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no!”

Harry frowned, feeling disappointed . . . and slightly hurt at having a fantasy rejected so vehemently.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so!”

“But why?” Harry pleaded. “I don’t understand. It’s not like you haven’t pissed on me before . . .”

“But I’d not been naked when I did it, that’s why!” Draco shouted at him. “I always had trousers on!”

Harry blinked at him, but then understanding took root in his mind. Draco didn’t want Harry to see his legs!

“Draco,” he said very gently. “You don’t have to worry. I want to see you – all of you.”

“But I don’t want you to,” Draco replied furiously. “Don’t my feelings count for anything?”

Of course they did! But this wasn’t entirely about Draco’s feelings; this about Harry’s feelings too.

“You need to trust me,” he said. “I need you to know that you can trust me.”

Draco looked like a frighten child as he stared into Harry’s eyes, begging Harry not to do this to him. But Harry wasn’t going to back down. It was now . . . or perhaps maybe never.

“They’re hideous,” Draco choked. “Even I can’t bear to look at them. They’re withered and disgusting. They’re so horrible that I’ve even thought about amputating them just so I don’t have to look at them.”

Harry couldn’t contain the shocked gasp that escaped him.

“You cannot be serious,” he said. “You’d maim yourself like that for no medical reason? Christ, Draco!”

Draco looked away, blushing with shame.

“I don’t want you to see them, Harry,” he whispered after a long moment. “I . . . I can’t lose you.”

Oh, for fuck sake.

Harry got out of the tub and knelt down in front of him.

“You are not going to lose me if you show me your legs,” he said, taking both of Draco’s hands in his.

Then he swallowed and took a deep breath before finishing his thought.

“But you will if I think you can’t trust me not to hurt you.”

Draco bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling. He was clearly fighting back tears.

“If I do this,” he said once he’d got his voice under control again, “you cannot lie to me. You cannot tell me they’re not hideous. If you lie about this, then I wouldn’t be able to trust you either.”

“I will not lie to you,” Harry said calmly, but sternly. “I love you too much to lie to you.”

Draco looked down again, and his eyes were almost defiant. For a horrible moment, Harry thought Draco was going to say no. Harry didn’t know what would happen next if he did . . .

“Okay.”

Harry’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Harry was shaking when he stood up.

“How . . . how should we do it?”

“Pick me up and put me in the shower chair.”

Draco’s voice sounded defeated. It made Harry want to take back his request. He remembered what Pansy had said about how his heart wouldn’t let him hurt Draco . . . but what if she was wrong?

Harry bent over and lifted Draco slowly and reverently out of his wheelchair and carried him to the tub where he set Draco down on his shower chair. As soon as Harry had helped him settle in, Draco bent his head and covered his face with his hands.

He looked broken.

Harry knew he had to do this quickly. This was not a seduction; it should not be drawn-out teasingly. He knelt down and unknotted the tie at Draco’s waist and carefully pulled off Draco’s pyjama bottoms.

Draco’s legs were very pale because Draco hadn’t let the poor things see the sun in nearly three years. His thighs were smooth, and his shins were dusted with blond downy hair. There was some healthy muscle due to Draco’s relentless exercising, but for the most part, there was little muscle tone and thus little definition. But they were not even remotely withered.

When Harry looked up, he saw that Draco had lifted his face out of his hands. His eyes were dead.

“Can we still be friends?” he asked in a tiny voice.

Harry wanted to slap him and then shake him until Draco stopped being so bloody stupid!

“No,” he said, and Draco flinched. “I want to be lovers.”

“You’re a liar,” Draco said flatly.

“I’ll let that go this one time,” Harry replied. “Draco, love, your legs are fine. They’re a little too pale, and their muscles are less obvious than they’d be if you could move them, but they are not withered, and they are not disgusting. Do they look paralysed? Yes. But they are not hideous. Okay? Are you going to look me in the eyes and call me a liar again?”

Draco bit his lip and searched Harry’s face for something that, judging from his eventual relieved expression, he didn’t find.

“And about your cock and balls?” Harry continued. “They’re fucking gorgeous. They haven’t changed at all. You’re hung like a fucking stallion.”

Draco was clearly trying to bite back a pleased smile and failing utterly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I knew that already.”

He winked at Harry, and Harry laughed.

“You stupid git,” he said and then kissed him long and deep.

“Now,” he said hoarsely when he finally pulled back, “come for me, Malfoy.”

He moved to position himself on his knees with his legs under the shower chair.

“Where?” Draco asked breathlessly.

Harry thought for a moment. There were so many tantalising possibilities. But then he thought of it.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” he said, looking into Draco’s eyes.

Draco made a face.

“Ugh,” he said. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Merlin, Potter, you are one kinky bastard.”

“And proud of it,” Harry said, grinning.

He placed his hands on Draco’s knees and carefully spread his legs wide enough that he could get close enough to Draco’s cock to be able to take it in his mouth.

It was limp when he first began sucking, but it quickly swelled. Harry groaned and grasped its base, moving his head as Draco wove his fingers into his hair.

“You look so good like that,” he said, making Harry hum with laughter.

Harry sucked him for a long time until he grew worried that Draco wasn’t going to piss and Harry would have to beg again, but then he heard Draco moan with release, and the salty taste of urine flooded his mouth.

“I’m coming,” Draco choked. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming so hard, Harry.”

There was a lot of piss, and it was impossible to swallow it all. Harry felt it trickle down his chin and throat and stomach and between his legs making his cock swell and harden with need.

“Pull off,” Draco gasped. “I want to come on you.”

Harry released Draco’s cock from his mouth, and Draco aimed it at his chest and then right at Harry’s crotch while Harry wanked like crazy, using the piss and his precome for lube. All the while both he and Draco stared at his hand and the urine flowing down his thighs, the crowns of their heads touching and both of then breathless and groaning. Too soon, Harry thrust into his hand and came with a cry.

“Fuck,” Draco said after a moment, and Harry would have echoed him if he’d been able to talk. “That was unbelievably fucking hot.”

Harry could only nod vigorously in complete agreement.

When he could stand, Harry turned on the tap, and they washed themselves between wet sloppy kisses.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered when they’d settled into their bed side-by-side. He brushed Draco’s fringe, still static from the drying charm, off his forehead. “You can’t imagine how much this day has meant to me. Thank you for trusting me.”

“And thank you for not lying to me,” Draco whispered in reply, “although I do have to think of a way to get even with you for tricking me to go to Hyde Park.”

Uh oh. Harry had hoped Draco had forgotten that little detail.

“Slytherins serve their revenges cold.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Draco arched an eyebrow at him.

“At least I’ll have the perfect wine for whatever it is I’ll think of.”

Harry shook his head and snuggled against his pillow and Draco’s warm body. As long as Draco’s revenge involved handcuffs and blindfolds and blowjobs, he’d be just fine with it.

One year later . . .

On the same day that Draco caught the Snitch, Luna and Neville firecalled to tell them that Luna was pregnant.

“The midwife confirmed it this afternoon,” Luna said dreamily, “but I already knew I was pregnant. The Moon Frogs have been even louder than usual. They’re very tuned into ovulation cycles.

“Er . . .”

Draco poked Harry in the shoulder. Harry turned to look at him, and just as he’d guessed, Draco was grinning and beaming . . . and, oh dear God, preening.

“I can’t believe it!” he said. “It was our first try! The midwife said it could take a year or more!”

“Our gametes are clearly very compatible,” Luna replied.

“Er, your whats . . . ?”

“Ignore Potter,” Draco said. “He actually thought the baby would grow in a cauldron or something. His Muggles never told him about the birds and the bees. He was pretty shocked when he learned the fertilised egg was actually going to be returned to your uterus.”

“Er.”

“My thought exactly,” said Neville, beaming nearly as much as Draco.

“Please do not encourage his ignorance, Longbottom.”

Harry jabbed him in the ribs.

When they’d let it be known that they were looking to adopt a baby, Luna and Neville had approached them about Luna being a surrogate. Neither of them wanted children of their own, but the idea of being limited co-parents appealed to them. Plus, Luna was very excited about the prospect of getting pregnant to test her theory about the Moon Frogs.

“I’m planning to write a book,” she said. “Moon Frogs and Menses.”

“Er.”

“Merlin, Potter! Will you please use polysyllabic words that actually mean something? We’re going to be parents. I do not want my child grunting like a caveman due to your illiterate influences.”

Luna smiled airily.

“Don’t worry, Draco,” she said. “Harry will be a wonderful father. I noticed that when he goes fishing with Neville he catches a lot of Gulping Plimpies.”

“Er . . .”

“Just go with it,” Draco hissed. “She’s the mother of our child. Just as long as she doesn’t start drinking suspect potions, I’m good with whatever creatures get involved.”

“I’m thinking this is all cause for celebration,” Neville said. “How about you two come over for dinner.”

“I’ll bring the wine,” Draco gushed, but then frowned sternly. “But not for you, Luna.”

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling very thankful that Draco was incapable of knocking him up because his bossy streak was clearly going to reach annoying levels of patronising condescension.

“That’s quite all right,” Luna said, thankfully oblivious to what an arsehole Draco was. “I prefer sparkling water anyway.”

Harry grinned at Draco.

“I think we might have a bottle of Pellegrino stashed away somewhere,” he said, barely hiding his smile when Draco poked him in the shoulder again.

“Lovely,” Neville said. “We’ll see you in about an hour then? And Harry? Better bring your waders. Luna already insists she’s developing a craving for plimpies.”

“Er . . .”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Draco said, too cheerful for Harry’s liking. Draco was going to be punning about plimpies all evening.

“See you soon,” Neville said and stepped away from his fireplace.

Harry stood and rubbed his creaky knees. They’d flown all bloody afternoon!

“Looking a little aged there, Potter,” Draco said gleefully. “Oh yes, and did I mention that not only am I a stallion with super sperm, I caught the Snitch?”

Harry groaned. It was going to be a long nine months.

“Am I going to have to listen to you brag about your spunk for the better half of a year?”

“Probably,” Draco said. He pulled the Snitch from the pouch attached to the backrest of his wheelchair and breathed on it before shining it on his sleeve.

Harry started to worry that he might strangle him before they even got to Luna and Neville’s house . . . but then he got a brilliant idea.

“How about sharing some of that super spunk with me,” he purred, leaning down to whisper in Draco’s ear.

His words had the desired effect when Draco’s breath caught and he stopped shining the Snitch.

“Mmmm, I think that could be arranged,” he said. “What did you have in mind, you hopeless kinkster, you.”

So many choices and only one hour. They’d fucked the night before, but Harry could never get enough of having Draco piss in his arse. Or what about Draco’s new fetish for having Harry piss on him? And of course there was the always-satisfying wank while watching Draco’s lap fill with urine . . . Mmmm.

“Time’s ticking,” Draco said, looking meaningfully at his watch.

Harry grinned as lascivious a grin as he was capable of. He leaned down to whisper in Draco’s ear, making Draco shiver.

“I’ll do anything,” he said. “As long as you’ll come for me.”

fin.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

bgd-thrifty.livejournal.com

This was definitely one of the most amazing things I've ever read.

'Malfoy had used a lot of lube, and the sounds that’d resulted from their coupling were squelchy like someone in wellies trudging through a bog.' Details like this in a fic make me so happy.

I really felt my heart wrench with Harry's when I read the line about Draco becoming engaged.

'What they did together . . . it was as sacred as anything in Harry’s life.' So very sad.

This fic is so beautiful. It makes it seem as if watersports isn't a kink at all. I wish I could articulate properly why I like this so much, but I can't, so have these scant words of praise instead.

Edited Date: 2012-02-20 09:55 pm (UTC)

From:

Come For Me - Part 3/3

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