Chapter Text
Six Months Later…
It was already twelve thirty, and they expected the first of their guests to start arriving at two. Draco took a soft cloth and wiped down the black marble counter top in the small guest bath on the main floor, checking to make sure there wasn't any stray black hair in the white ceramic bowl. The bloody hair seemed to end up everywhere, and he was forever wiping down every surface in the house. The round bowl shone like a mirror, but he still wasn't satisfied with how it looked. He knew if anyone needed a loo, this would be the one they'd use. So he straightened the black towels, shifted the dark throw rugs, and pulled a glass bottle of aerosol spray from the cupboard above the round sink. A quick press of his finger, and the room smelled like a pine forest, and he inhaled deeply. It was a bottle of Harry's cologne, slipped from the upstairs bedroom so he could spray it whenever he wanted. He knew it made him a sap; he didn't care. The smell he associated with his lover made his pulse steady, and pleasure slip through him. He sighed just as the dark wood door opened, and the man in question stuck his head around the door jamb.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Just…a few last-minute things," Draco said, turning and holding the bottle of cologne behind his back.
"This house is so clean no one I know will recognise it," Harry teased.
"It's not my fault your friends were used to you being a slob."
Harry looked momentarily affronted. "Hey, I'm not a slob," he protested. "I'm just not as obsessively clean as you are."
"I am not obsessively clean," Draco protested.
"Oh, baby," Harry said with a tolerant smile. "You are the cleanest man I've ever known." He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, and backed Draco against the counter.
"What are you doing," he said. "We have company due…"
"In an hour and a half," Harry said. "The food is ready, the punch is made, the wine is breathing, and all you have to do is be your charming self." He wrapped his arms around Draco, and his hand dropped down towards Draco's arse, finding the artsy cologne bottle he'd been trying to hide behind his back. Harry twisted it out of his hand, looked at it, then studied Draco's face. Right then, Draco could feel it filling with heat and knew that his hated blush had made an appearance.
"What is this?" Harry asked, one brow arching.
"I've no idea," Draco lied extravagantly. "I've never seen it before in my life."
Harry's mouth twitched as if he was fighting laughter. "It looks very much to me like my missing bottle of cologne."
"Hm. Really?" Draco said, determined to take this through to the end. "What in the world could it be doing down here?"
"Well, it was in your hand," Harry said. "And here you told me you hadn't seen it. I spent more than I care to say replacing it." Harry narrowed his eyes. "You know I believe every word that comes from this delectable mouth."
Draco smiled slightly. "Delectable, is it?"
"Very. But it seems you might be lying to me."
Draco spread his hand over the front of his cable knit jumper, looking affronted. "Me? Lie? You must be mad. I'm sure you must've brought the bottle down at some point and forgot."
"Mm." Harry put the bottle on the counter top, and Draco made a distressed sound.
"Don't put that there." He snatched the bottle up and put it in the hinged cupboard. "I've just got that properly clean. Heathen."
"Heathen, am I?" Harry's full lips pulled up at the corner. "You know, I did manage to remodel this entire house before I met you."
Draco shrugged. "Pure luck. It's only since I've been here to add the accessories that the place truly shines."
Harry put his arms back around Draco's waist, looking thoughtful. "You may have a point there," he said. "It's never felt as much like a home as it has since you moved in."
Draco reached up and pushed Harry's fringe back, then let his hands rest on Harry's shoulders.
"Mother and Aunt Andromeda are going to be shocked, that's for certain. Neither of them have been here since their Aunt Walburga lived here." He studied Harry's face. "You never told me how you got her portrait off of the landing wall."
"I didn't," Harry said with a slight smile. "Walburga's old house elf, Kreacher, did. I told him he could keep it if he took it down and put it somewhere I never had to see it again."
"Does that mean that hateful thing could turn up at any time?"
Harry pulled Draco closer to his chest. "I'll protect you."
"Foolish Gryffindor," Draco said, shaking his head.
Harry frowned. "That isn't a Gryffindor trait, is it?"
"In your case?" Draco teased. Harry's hands slid down Draco's back and curved around the globes of his arse. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I think I'm seducing you," Harry replied, kneading his arse cheeks.
"You cannot seduce me right now," Draco complained, going up on his toes when Harry lifted him.
"I think I can," Harry said, one hand lifting and slipping under his jumper. His hand was warm against the skin of Draco's back. He pulled him closer and dropped a soft kiss on his lips.
"No, Harry, really," he said, pushing against his chest. "Now isn't the time."
"Are you sure?" he countered. "You seem very tense to me, and I know how to help with that."
"Harry, I'm serious," Draco began, then squeaked when Harry lifted the front of his jumper and dipped his head to take the pink nipple into his mouth. He teased it with his teeth, and Draco groaned. "So unfair," he complained.
"All's fair in love and war." Harry licked the turgid nipple, then dropped slowly to his knees. Draco looked down at him, and his breath caught. Harry found the shape of him through his black jeans, and nuzzled him with his face.
"Degenerate," Draco said, his hands going into the wealth of Harry's black curls.
"That's me," Harry grinned up at him, his hand doing filthy things to Draco's cock through the denim. Draco felt himself begin to harden, and Harry unbuttoned Draco's jeans, then slowly lowering the zip before reaching into the opening and withdrawing Draco's cock through the opening of his black boxers. He was half hard, but looking down at Harry on his knees, fondling him, was going to take care of that in no time.
Harry took Draco's pale cock in his hand, turning his head this way and that, studying Draco's penis as if he'd never seen one before.
"You do know what that is," Draco said, pulling lightly on the black curls.
"Oh, yes," Harry said. "Just admiring it." He looked up. "It is pretty."
"You're mad," Draco said. "There is no such thing as a pretty cock."
"Oh, but you're wrong," Harry retorted. "Unlike mine, yours is pale and pink and when it's hard, it points straight up. Mine is veiny and dark, and looks more like a battering ram. This?" He curled his hand around Draco's prick and stroked it from base to tip. "This is a thing of beauty. And there's only one true way to admire it."
"Harry," Draco said, "we haven't time…"
Harry ignored him, licking a stripe on his half hard cock to the thatch of blond hair at the base. Draco shuddered, his hand moving on Harry's head. Harry licked back down, then opened his mouth and took him in.
The wet heat made Draco weak in the knees. He gasped as he watched Harry's lips spread around the shaft, and he shuddered when Harry lowered his head down and swallowed around the head. Draco spread his legs as far as they would go, his head dropped back and eyes closed.
He heard Harry unzip his own pants, and the sound of his big hand moving over his own, apparently not so pretty, prick. He opened his eyes and looked down. Harry was stroking himself briskly, and Draco's body stiffened on the sight of it.
"I wish we had more time," Draco said. "I want to fuck your face."
Harry drew back, letting Draco's cock slip, wet with spit, from his mouth.
"So do it," he said, reaching beneath Draco's cock for his balls, freeing them from his clothes.
"We don't…"
"Don't tell me we don't have time," Harry said a bit harshly. "You're wasting it complaining." He tongued Draco's slit, and Draco shuddered.
"Oh, Gods," he groaned. He began moving his hips, unable to contain the motion. Harry made a sound of approval, holding Draco by his hips, directing how hard and fast he wanted him to go. Draco knew he had to be in Harry's throat, and he planned to compliment him on his technique when he could talk again. Now, all he could do was moan in accompaniment to the slap of skin on skin. Harry yanked Draco's jeans and pants down his thighs, forcing Draco's legs back together but freeing him from the encumbering cloth. He shoved his free hand under Draco's balls and held them, rolling them between his fingers while he sucked Draco hard and beat himself off with a punishing beat.
"Close," Draco groaned. "Close."
Harry made a sound that could be anything from understanding to his own nearing orgasm, and all Draco could do was curl his fingers in Harry's hair and ride it out as it streaked down his spine, igniting the load in his balls. He jerked once, then again, several times and Harry milked everything in him out through his slit.
"Stop, stop," Draco said, his cock now gone to the point of over sensitivity.
Harry backed off, resting his forehead against Draco's thigh. Draco curled over his head, his fingers caressing Harry's face.
"Did you come?" Draco whispered, opening his eyes and looking down. The answer to his question was currently pooling on one of the black throw rugs beneath Harry's knees. "Oh, for fuck's sake. We have company coming."
Harry sighed and sat back on his heels. "We also have a washer and dryer. And I know you have at least three more of these exact rugs in the linen cupboard." He moved off the rug and folded it over, picking it up as he pushed unsteadily to his feet, then starting to push his prick back into his jeans.
"Stop," Draco said. He reached down and took Harry's cock in his hand, then bent at the waist and pressed a kiss to it. "This is one of my favourite things," he said, tucking it back into Harry's pants. "Do not tell me it isn't lovely."
Harry snorted out a laugh. "Lovely. Right."
He tucked the soiled rug under his arm, then helped Draco finish closing up his jeans. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Draco's lips. "I love you," he murmured.
"I love you, too," Draco said. "Even though you taste like spunk."
Harry snorted. "I'll brush my teeth."
"I'd hope so. You can't kiss Molly with that mouth." Harry laughed at that. "Do you think Charlie will bring Sebastian?"
"He'd better," Harry said. He looked into Draco's eyes, then lifted his hand to touch his chin. "Are you feeling less tense?" he asked with a smile.
"I hate to stoke that ego of yours," he said, turning to study his own reflection, taking in his flushed cheeks. He smiled at Harry's handsome image in the mirror. "I certainly can't fault your skills." He pretended to be thoughtful. "You know, you never have told me who taught you those skills."
Harry raised a black eyebrow. "You want to tell me who taught you yours?"
Draco grimaced. "No one needs to know that much about my misspent youth."
Harry smiled. "So, in other words, ask Parkinson." He opened the bathroom door and started toward the stairs to the kitchen, leading down to their laundry room.
"You do and I'll ask Granger!" Draco shouted after him, doing a quick check of the rest of the small bathroom for any remaining evidence of their activities. Fortunately, there wasn't any. He followed Harry through their first floor to the stairs.
"You go right ahead," Harry's voice drifted back to him. "She doesn't know anything."
Draco arrived in the kitchen in time to hear the washing machine door slam, and the knob turned. The pipes above his head made a very familiar sound as Harry started the wash. He came back into the kitchen as Draco turned to study the trays lined up on the kitchen table. All he had to do was take off the stasis charms and move them to their long dining table. Harry came up behind him and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist. Draco leaned back into him for the length of a deep breath.
"Feeling better?" Harry said against his ear.
Draco nodded. "Much. Thank you."
Harry kissed the side of his head. "Okay, tell me what to wear."
Draco turned and looked him up and down. "The hunter green button down, those jeans, and your new trainers."
Harry nodded and headed toward the door.
"And brush your teeth!" Draco called after him. "Merlin knows if you kiss my mother with that breath, I will never hear the end of it."
"Gotcha," Harry replied.
Draco heard him thud up the stairs to their bedroom as he began moving the trays into the dining room.
Less than a year ago, he decided to take a chance and work at the Ministry. His area on Level 10 had a chill that lingered from the Dementor occupation during the second war with Voldemort and his love life was non-existent. Now he ran the department that manufactured the uniforms for much of the Ministry staff. Thanks to Harry, all traces of the Dementors had been removed from Level 10 and the chill was gone. His love life had heated up and now he lived in Grimmauld Place with Harry.
Harry really had done an excellent job of renovating the old house. Together they had worked to make it a home and he couldn't wait to share it with their families and friends. In – he looked at his watch, just about an hour, and he still needed to shower. He snatched a chocolate biscuit from one of the trays, straightened the rest to hide the fact one was missing, and popped it in his mouth. He drew his wand and added a touch of greenery to the trays of food, smiled at the result, and headed for the stairs. He'd almost given up on love, but now Draco knew he was just waiting for his first last kiss, and Harry.