Title: The Promotion
Word Count: ~5,400
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Warnings: D/s; humiliation; consensually-roleplayed dubious consent (say that three times fast)
Summary: Harry really needs that promotion. Draco is a good husband.
Author's Notes: Written for the daily_deviant August 2011 prompt of authority figure roleplay. This fic is part of my Controlverse (despite the incongruous title), but all the fics in that verse can be read independently. Thanks to A for the beta!
Harry had a habit of chewing on his cuticles when he was nervous. It had irritated Draco when they’d first gotten together, but now he found it oddly endearing.
“Stop that,” he said, taking Harry’s hand and tugging it away from his mouth. The skin around the thumbnail was raw and red. “You’ve nothing to worry about. That promotion is as good as yours.”
“We don’t know that.” Harry’s hand flexed in Draco’s. “Dickerson’s had strong numbers lately – ”
“Dickerson is a wishy-washy bint. You said yourself that Snape doesn’t like her.”
Harry sighed. “He doesn’t.”
“But he likes you.”
“As much as he likes anybody.”
“Then tonight’s dinner will seal the deal,” said Draco. “Just make nice, and I’ll talk you up so you don’t have to.”
Harry pulled his hand out of Draco’s grasp, but instead of returning it to his own mouth, he slid it into Draco’s hair and drew him into a soft kiss. “I love you.”
“You’d better. Now go and put on those green robes I bought you while I check on Kreacher’s dinner.”
Harry’s spine was a little straighter as he walked out of the lounge, but just as he was disappearing through the door to the master bedroom, Draco caught a glimpse of him nibbling on his thumb again. Draco shook his head in exasperation. It was beyond him how the bloody Chosen One could be so damned self-deprecating.
Draco headed into the kitchen to ensure that Kreacher was preparing dinner to his exact specifications, then into the dining room to look the crystal and china place settings over with a critical eye. He had never met Harry’s boss, but from what Harry had said of him, Severus Snape was stern and demanding, a stickler for detail who expected nothing less than excellence from his employees. As someone intimately familiar with the constant drive for perfection, Draco was more than willing to tackle the challenge.
The doorbell rang just as Harry was emerging from their bedroom. Draco could see him through the open archway that connected the dining room to the foyer, and his breath stilled for a moment. He’d known the robes would bring out Harry’s eyes – it was why he’d chosen them – but he hadn’t counted on the way the sharp cut emphasised the breadth of Harry’s shoulders, the tapering of his narrow waist. He looked downright edible.
Draco joined him in the foyer and raised his eyebrows, inclining his head towards the front door. “Are you just going to leave him on the front porch?”
“Right.” Harry blew out a breath, set his shoulders, and strode to the door. “Mr. Snape, welcome,” he said as he swung it open.
“My thanks for the invitation, Mr. Potter.”
Harry stepped aside to allow Snape into the foyer. Draco eyed the man with interest. He was taller than either Harry or himself, whipcord-lean, with pale skin and lanky black hair that brushed his shoulders. His nose was far too big for his face. The severe, conservative cut of his black robes and trousers, combined with his ramrod-straight posture and intense dark eyes, lent him an air of gravitas that made him a striking man, if not a particularly handsome one.
Snape’s gaze immediately landed on Draco and swept him from head to foot in a way that made Draco feel as if he’d been undressed. “This must be your lovely husband,” he said. His voice was deep, with a smooth, rolling cadence that sent shivers down Draco’s spine.
“This is Draco Malfoy, yes. Draco, Severus Snape.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snape.” Draco extended his hand.
Snape shifted the bottle of wine he was holding into his left hand and shook with his right. “The pleasure is mine.” He didn’t let go of Draco’s hand. His eyes burned into Draco’s even as he said, “Potter, your description didn’t do him justice.”
Draco dragged his eyes away from Snape’s to look at Harry, who just shrugged with an awkward smile. It took some effort to pull his hand out of Snape’s firm grasp without making it obvious that the touch unnerved him, but he managed it. “Harry’s told me much about you, as well.” Wanting to move things along, he looked pointedly at the wine bottle.
“A small gift for the host,” said Snape.
“That’s very kind.” Draco accepted the bottle, recognising it as an excellent but little-known vintage. “This will go perfectly with dinner. I’ll let it breathe in the kitchen. Harry, if you could offer Mr. Snape a drink in the lounge?”
“Sure. A neat whiskey, isn’t it, Mr. Snape?”
Draco broke off from the two men as they stepped into the great room off the foyer and entered the kitchen instead. He set the bottle of wine down on the counter and took a deep breath, trying to understand his curious reaction to Snape. He hadn’t felt this off-balance in… well, a long time. Snape was a compelling man, even a little intimidating, but Draco had thought himself made of sterner stuff than to be flustered by an intrusive stare and a too-long handshake.
Shaking his head, Draco summoned a cut-crystal decanter from the pantry and eased the cork out of the bottle with a spell. He was just letting Harry’s anxiety get to him.
Draco almost dropped the bottle when Snape’s rich baritone sounded from behind him. “Do you require any assistance?”
Glancing over his shoulder to see Snape leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, Draco said, “No, thank you.” He focused on pouring the wine into the decanter without spilling any, which took more concentration that it should have. “Our house elf is taking care of dinner. It shouldn’t be long.” Where was Kreacher, anyway?
Draco could hear footsteps as Snape moved closer. He stiffened and set the empty bottle on the counter.
“You have a beautiful home.”
Snape stopped barely an inch from him. Draco could feel the man’s heat on his back, his breath on his neck. He stood as still as if he’d been Petrified.
“Yet it does not hold a candle to the man who lives inside it.” Snape put his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of Draco’s body, trapping him.
All of Draco’s breath left him in a rush. “Mr. Snape – ” The brush of lips against his neck made him gasp. He whirled around in the small space made by Snape’s arms and drew himself up with a glare. “Please step back.”
“Potter talks about you often,” Snape said, completely ignoring Draco’s demand.
“One would think him bragging if he were the type to do so.” Snape leaned even closer, so that he was speaking directly into Draco’s ear. “He tells me how beautiful you are lying beneath him, begging for his cock. How you enjoy being spanked before he takes you hard from behind. How you sucked him off underneath the table at a Ministry function, just because he asked you to.”
Draco was shaking with outrage and disbelief. His mouth worked soundlessly as he searched for an appropriate response, and so he was unprepared when Snape kissed him.
Kiss might have been too generous a term. Snape seized his mouth in a vicious attack, demanding lips sliding over Draco’s and tongue pushing rudely inside. Draco made a noise of protest and tried to turn away, but Snape grabbed the back of his head with one hand and held him still as he kissed him even more deeply. His long body pressed up against Draco, forcing him back against the counter. Draco could feel Snape’s erection laying heavy against his stomach.
Heart pounding, Draco put his hands on Snape’s chest and shoved with all his might. Snape stumbled backwards a few steps, but Draco knew it was more because he’d caught the man by surprise than anything else.
“How dare you,” Draco said, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want Harry to overhear.
Snape reached out to brush his thumb over Draco’s lower lip. Draco slapped his hand away, shocked by his utter audacity.
“Exquisite,” Snape murmured, lips quirked in a small smirk. He turned and left the kitchen without any further overtures.
Draco’s knees buckled; he had to lean on the counter to keep himself upright. The past few minutes had an air of unreality about them. He couldn’t quite believe that his husband’s boss had just molested him in his own kitchen. And the things Snape had said… Harry would never have told anyone such private details about their lives.
Then how did Snape know?
Draco pushed off the counter and closed his eyes, counting to ten while he calmed himself. He could not go into the lounge looking upset. Harry would be sure to notice, and this promotion was too important to him for Draco to risk endangering it by telling him something that might result in him being sacked and arrested for assault.
With his expression settled into neutral lines, Draco headed for the lounge. He stopped at the doorway and frowned. Harry and Snape were sitting on the sofa together, drinks in hand and heads close, speaking in hushed tones. Draco couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something… conspiratorial about it.
“Hey, baby,” Harry said when he caught sight of Draco. “I made you a drink.” He gestured to the gin and tonic resting on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
Draco forced a smile onto his face and headed towards them, intending to sit in one of the nearby armchairs, but Harry slid over on the sofa to make room for Draco between himself and Snape. Taking any other seat would be too pointed an insult. Stiff with unease, Draco sat between them, grabbing his drink and taking a large swallow.
“Potter tells me you’re becoming quite the renowned Healer,” said Snape.
Pride straightened Draco’s spine. “I don’t know that I would say renowned, exactly – ”
His voice cut off abruptly as Snape settled a hand on his knee. All he could do was blink at it in astonishment.
“You specialise in psychological trauma, do you not?” Snape spoke casually, as if he wasn’t slipping his hand beneath Draco’s robes.
“Y-yes – ”
Snape’s hand slid up the inside of his thigh. Draco turned to Harry, shocked that he hadn’t yet intervened. His stomach dropped when he saw that instead of being flushed with righteous fury, Harry had his head ducked, avoiding Draco’s eyes. His cheeks were pink, but it wasn’t with anger.
“Has apparently been too timid to discuss our arrangement with you, despite his vaunted bravery.”
Draco’s eyes flicked towards Snape. “Arrangement?”
He gasped as Snape’s hand cupped his cock through his trousers and began to knead – gently, in deference to his flaccid state. Draco knew he should leap off the couch and tell Snape to go to hell, but he couldn’t move. His brain was still struggling to comprehend that this was actually happening.
“There is a great deal of competition for this promotion, and the candidates are all more or less equal in worth. Mr. Potter alone is able to offer me something that his rivals cannot.”
“You can’t be serious.” Draco pushed Snape’s hand away, encountering no resistance, but the damage was already done; his cock was awake and interested. “Harry.”
Harry lifted his head, and Draco knew immediately that this was not a joke. His husband’s eyes were alight with guilt, defiance, and just the slightest hint of arousal. Draco sucked in a breath, feeling as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
“Draco, please. I need this.”
“No! I’m not a whore. How could you even think – ”
“You told me you were mine,” Harry said with sudden ferocity. “You promised that you belonged to me, that you would do anything for me, anything I asked. Do you remember that?”
Draco did remember, though he had never in his wildest dreams imagined Harry attempting to whore him out for a promotion. “You have no right.”
Harry grabbed the front of Draco’s robes. For a terrifying moment, Draco was sure Harry was going to throw him to the floor, but he was hauled into a kiss instead. Though he struggled for a few seconds, the urge to submit to Harry had been too deeply ingrained within him. He went slack in Harry’s grasp and let out a noise that was part frustration and part arousal as Harry bit and sucked on his lower lip.
By the time they parted, Harry's eyes had softened considerably. “Do it for me, Draco. Please. I need you.”
Under other circumstances, such a plea from Harry would have melted Draco's reservations in an instant. Even now, ambushed by Harry's arrangement to trade his body for a career boost, Draco knew he would capitulate. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his husband.
“You should have just asked me,” Draco said quietly. It was Harry's deception that stung the most. “I would have said yes. You didn't have to do... this.”
Surprise, remorse, and something else that Draco couldn't name crossed Harry's face in quick succession. Draco turned away from him, back towards Snape.
“What do you want?”
Snape's smile was a slow, wicked thing. “Kiss me.”
Draco braced himself for the kind of violence Snape had shown in the kitchen, and was startled by the easy, languid kiss he received instead. Snape's tongue slid teasingly across his lips before delving inside and searching out Draco's tongue, urging him to respond in kind. His hand slid up Draco's back to tangle in his hair.
The deep, leisurely thrusts of Snape's tongue were suggestive of another act entirely. Draco couldn't help the way his body reacted – the flush spreading from his neck to his chest, the sudden shortness of his breath, the stirring in his cock. He rested one hand on Snape's shoulder, partly for balance and partly because he hoped it would make Harry jealous.
Snape deftly unfastened Draco's robes while they kissed. He laid a line of soft kisses down the side of Draco's neck before finally pulling back. “Such an obedient boy you have, Potter,” he said, voice thick with lusty approval.
Blood flooded Draco's cheeks, which were already hot with arousal. Harry stroked his hair from behind. “When he wants to be.”
“Stand up and remove your clothing. I want to see all of you.”
Draco bent to take off his socks and shoes first, feeling both men's eyes boring into him. Was Harry really going to stay and watch this? Draco didn't know if he found that disgusting or reassuring.
When Draco got to his feet, Harry did the same. Instead of leaving the room, however, he moved behind Draco where he stood in front of Snape and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. Then he eased Draco's open robes down his arms until they fell to the floor.
Draco's heart stuttered. No, Harry wasn't going to watch. He was going to participate.
Harry's teeth caught and tugged on Draco's earlobe while he unbuttoned Draco's shirt. It soon joined the robes on the floor, and Harry smoothed his hands over Draco's stomach. Draco held himself stiffly, embarrassed by Snape's avid stare. Harry bit down on Draco's neck at the same moment that he gave one of Draco's nipples a sharp twist, and Draco cried out, body jerking.
Snape liked that. Draco could see it in his eyes. He let himself lean back against Harry's body and turned his face away as Harry's hand slid down his abdomen to massage his cock through his trousers, mouth still busy on Draco's neck.
Keeping one arm anchored securely around Draco's waist, Harry lowered the zip on Draco's trousers and pushed his hand inside. The more Draco's cock swelled and thickened under his ministrations, the firmer his touch became. Draco bit his lip to suppress a moan, wishing Harry would just get on with it. He didn't see the point in dragging things out. They both knew very well that Snape wasn't a patient man.
That thought made Draco glance back at his husband's boss. He blinked when he saw that, far from seeming annoyed that his instructions weren't being followed with haste, Snape had relaxed into the sofa, legs crossed at the ankles. He swirled his drink lazily in his right hand with the air of a man enjoying a show.
Harry was showing him off. He was putting Draco on display like he was some kind of particularly interesting pet. An unexpected surge of arousal made Draco's cock leap against Harry's palm, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Harry's erection pressed against the small of his back in response.
Draco dropped his head back on Harry’s shoulder, clutching the arm around his waist to steady himself. Harry pushed Draco’s trousers and pants down just far enough to let the tip of his cock peek out, then toyed with it until the stimulation became too much and Draco whined, twisting in his grip. He lifted his precome-slick fingers to Draco’s lips.
Normally, Draco wouldn’t have hesitated, but he was still very aware of Snape’s presence. He dared a look to find that Snape had unbuttoned his robes; the clothing underneath, a starched white shirt and black waistcoat, didn’t make him any less intimidating. Snape idly palmed the rather large bulge in his trousers as he watched. His eyes, when they met Draco’s, were searing.
Draco’s skin broke out in goosebumps and his heart raced. Unable to hold Snape’s gaze, he let his eyes fall shut, opened his mouth, and sucked Harry’s fingers clean. Harry groaned against his neck.
Draco kept his eyes closed while Harry stripped him of his trousers and pants, but Snape’s regard was a tangible heat on his skin. Freed from confinement, his cock rose up hard and slick. His head was awhirl with confusion. He shouldn’t be taking pleasure in this. He should feel betrayed, degraded, humiliated. Actually, he did feel humiliated, but it was only making his arousal more acute, and that was far worse.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harry whispered to him. “I wish everybody could see you like this.”
“Turn around,” said Snape.
Draco did so, opening his eyes to see Harry smiling at him. He returned the kiss Harry gave him, thinking nothing of it when Harry’s hands cupped his arse. When those hands spread his cheeks apart, though, he broke the kiss with a mortified gasp. Harry was exposing him completely to Snape. Draco’s hole twitched and he swayed on his feet.
“Perfect. Come here, Mr. Malfoy.”
Harry released him, and Draco moved until he was standing close enough to Snape to brush the man’s knees if he leaned forward. He forced himself to look at Snape’s face instead of the floor.
Snape ran his fingers up the outside of Draco’s thigh, letting out a low laugh when the muscle twitched violently beneath his touch. “Potter tells me you are a talented cocksucker. Provide me with a demonstration.”
Draco shot a glare at Harry over his shoulder, but if Harry had been feeling any guilt earlier, there was no evidence of it now. The eyes behind his glasses were black with lust.
Draco sank to his knees between Snape’s legs. Cursing the way his fingers were trembling, he reached out to undo the placket of Snape’s trousers. Snape wore nothing beneath them. His cock sprang free, longer even than Harry’s and nearly as thick. Draco took a shuddering breath.
The fingers of Snape’s right hand threaded through Draco’s hair. “Show me what skill you can ply with that lovely mouth.”
Not in the mood to tease, Draco grasped the base of Snape’s cock and lowered his head to take the first few inches into his mouth. The flesh glided hot and smooth over his tongue. Draco tightened his lips and slid upwards only to nurse momentarily at the head before plunging back down even further.
Snape made an approving noise, stroking Draco’s hair and then exerting a slight pressure, urging him to take more. Draco relaxed his throat as Snape’s cock nudged the back of it. If there was one thing he knew how to do well, it was deepthroat a big cock. He’d had plenty of practice, after all.
“Impressive,” Snape said when Draco’s bobbing movements brought his nose flush with his crisp dark pubic hair. There was a new tension in his voice, and the grip of his fingers had tightened. A rush of confidence filled Draco; he doubled his efforts, hoping to get Snape off as quickly as possible.
Harry sat next to Snape on the sofa, but Draco, intent on his task, didn’t look up. “It feels like he’s trying to suck the life out of you, doesn’t it?”
Draco heard rustling, movement, and then, unmistakably, the wet sounds of kissing. He froze with Snape’s cock halfway down his throat and flicked his eyes upwards, almost choking when he saw Harry and Snape locked in a passionate snog. Incensed, Draco pulled off of Snape, intending to demand to know exactly what they thought they were doing.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” said Snape, irritated, and he pushed Draco’s head back down so that Draco was forced to swallow his cock once more.
He didn’t let Draco have free rein this time, using his hand to direct Draco’s movements, pushing and pulling as he pleased. Draco struggled for a moment before falling into the rhythm Snape had set, a bit faster than before. Above him, the kissing resumed.
Draco couldn’t help watching. Harry had shed his robes; his unbuttoned shirt hung from his shoulders. He was panting for breath, and he moaned when Snape’s free hand opened his trousers and pulled out his rock-hard erection.
The familiarity of their movements made it clear that this wasn’t the first time they had touched each other. Draco’s cock throbbed at the sight even as his mind spun. If Harry was already having sex with Snape, what did he need Draco for?
His answer came from the strong hand pushing even more insistently on his head. Snape was obviously a man who craved dominance, and Harry, while he enjoyed being fucked as much as he enjoyed doing the fucking, didn’t have a submissive bone in his body.
Draco, on the other hand, was letting a virtual stranger fuck his mouth just because his husband had told him to. And he was getting off on it.
Snape took a harsh breath at the helpless moan Draco made around his cock. His left hand dug through the pockets of his robe until he found a small vial and tossed it to Harry.
“Get him ready for me. Two fingers only – I want him tight.”
So Draco wasn’t going to be able to avoid being fucked after all. The thought simultaneously terrified him and had his body squirming in anticipation.
Harry pulled his shirt off the rest of the way before sliding to the floor and kneeling behind Draco, his thick cock still jutting from his open trousers. The head pressed sticky against Draco’s back when Harry leaned forward to kiss the nape of his neck.
Snape had both hands in Draco’s hair now. He took over the blowjob completely, holding Draco’s head still while he plunged his cock into Draco’s mouth with minute thrusts of his hips. Draco marvelled at the man’s stamina. He’d been sucking Snape’s cock for at least fifteen minutes, but you’d never know it by Snape’s controlled breathing and restrained movements.
Harry’s hands urged Draco’s legs further apart. Draco gripped Snape’s thighs and concentrated on breathing as one of Harry’s fingers pushed inside him, stretching and wetting him with deep strokes. Draco tried to keep his grunts and moans to a minimum, but he’d always loved Harry’s fingers inside him, and the noises had the intriguing side effect of making Snape lose a bit of his control for a few seconds every time one escaped Draco’s mouth.
The second finger invading his hole had Draco arching his back, throat convulsing around Snape’s cock. Harry prepared him quickly, efficiently, then sought out Draco’s prostate and gave it a firm rub. Draco bucked, his cry muffled by the cock lodged deep in his throat, and he would have choked if Snape hadn’t chosen that moment to pull out.
Draco let his hands fall to the floor and dropped his head between his shoulders as he gasped for breath. Harry was still teasing him; Draco pushed back into it, riding his fingers, aware of how wanton he must look to Snape but past the point of caring.
Draco protested the emptiness that followed Harry removing his fingers, but was somewhat appeased by the gentle slap to his arse. Snape’s hand beneath his chin forced his head up.
Unsteady on his wobbly knees, Draco rose to his feet. Snape leaned against the back of the sofa, legs spread, and crooked his finger.
The gesture’s meaning was clear. Draco had been hoping that Snape would want him on his back or knees – any position in which he could remain still and pretend that he was suffering this instead of enjoying it. No such luck.
Draco straddled Snape’s lap with his knees pressed to the outside of Snape’s thighs, holding onto Snape’s shoulder with one hand while he used the other to steady Snape’s cock beneath him. Snape offered no assistance; his fingers traced light patterns on Draco’s legs as his greedy eyes drank in the sight of Draco sinking down on him.
It was a tight fit, as Snape had desired. Though there was enough lubrication to lessen the sting, Snape was quite large, and Draco felt like he was being split in half. He slowly eased himself down the length of Snape’s shaft, letting go when he’d taken half of it and clutching Snape’s other shoulder as well.
Without warning, Snape snapped his hips upwards and shoved the rest of his cock into Draco’s body all at once. Draco shrieked in both pain and pleasure. He heard Harry moan behind him.
Snape allowed Draco a moment to collect himself, sitting with his arse pressed right up against Snape’s hips. Harry knelt next to them on the sofa, stroking his own cock nice and slow. He still had his glasses on – the better to see them with, Draco supposed.
Snape brushed his fingers over Draco’s cheek. “Show me what a good husband you are,” he said. “Prove to me that Potter deserves his promotion.”
Draco began to move, sliding up and down Snape’s cock in small increments as his body struggled to adjust to its size. He felt better with every pass, filled up so deeply, and he pushed himself higher on his knees so that he could get more. A slight shift in the angle of his hips sent Snape’s cock gliding against his prostate. Draco whined low in his throat, hips undulating in a way that made that incredible pleasure burst through him again and again.
Snape’s hands were like iron on Draco’s thighs. “Faster.”
Draco picked up his pace a little, still focusing on the shallow thrusts that had his legs quivering and his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. Harry’s hand cracked hard against his arse. Draco cried out, overwhelmed, and made himself work Snape’s cock the way he knew they wanted him to, bouncing rapidly up and down the entire length, impaling himself without mercy.
“Sometimes he needs to be reminded of who’s in charge,” Harry said to Snape.
His words washed over Draco like hot oil. He knew that when Snape was done with him, Harry would want a turn, and Draco was helpless to stop them. He was just a toy to them, a pretty plaything to be passed back and forth at their leisure.
That thought sent shivers down Draco’s spine. The fog of submission crept into his mind, unravelling the threads of the fantasy. He could no longer fake reluctance, no longer pretend that being used as an object for his lovers’ pleasure wasn’t exactly what he yearned for. His hands fisted in the fabric of Severus’ robes.
Severus’ eyes narrowed as he scanned Draco’s face. “You want this, don’t you?”
Draco nodded frantically.
“You cock-hungry slut.” One of Severus’ hands slid from Draco’s thigh to his arsecheek and gave it a cruel squeeze.
Draco let out a desperate moan, forehead falling onto Severus’ chest. He rode Severus’ cock as if it were his sole purpose in life – which, for the moment, it was. Knowing that he would soon be sunk too far in submissive bliss to speak with any coherency, he grazed Severus’ neck with his lips and whispered, “I want to feel you come inside me.”
Severus’ groan vibrated through his chest. He met Draco thrust for thrust, spearing him with insistent stabs of his rigid cock. His fingers wound through Draco’s hair and yanked his head to the side. Severus set his teeth into Draco’s exposed neck just as he spilled hot seed into Draco’s writhing body.
Draco couldn’t stop moving, even when he felt Severus softening inside him. He was still painfully hard, still aching to be fucked. Severus released his neck with a grunt and grabbed Draco’s hips, lifting him off his cock. Draco whimpered, rutting against Severus’ stomach.
“I’ve got you,” said Harry, his voice a low growl. He stood at the edge of the sofa between Severus’ legs, shoved Draco’s shoulders forward, pulled his arse back, and drove into him with one brutal thrust.
Draco clung to Severus for support and sobbed with the pleasure of it. Harry was rarely this rough; the savage pistoning of his hips was sure to leave bruises on Draco’s arse. His thicker cock opened Draco up even wider.
Severus slipped an arm around Draco’s back. “You’ve certainly put Harry in a state.”
Draco could only moan in reply as Harry pounded away at his prostate. He shook when Severus’ other hand took hold of his cock, but Severus didn’t offer the relief Draco had been expecting. Instead, he ghosted his hand up and down Draco’s erection with a loose, unsatisfying grip, completely at odds with Harry’s aggressive tempo. Draco twisted his hips and buried his face in Severus’ chest.
“He would really do it,” Harry gasped through his exertions. “He would do anything – anything we asked – ”
“Is that true, Draco?”
Draco nodded, torn between the conflicting desires to rock back into Harry’s thrusts or push himself forward into Severus’ hand to try to get it moving. Severus kissed the top of his head and solved his dilemma for him by firming his grip and pumping his cock with short, brisk strokes. All of Draco’s breath left him in a rush. He could move with Harry the way he wanted to now, getting him even deeper, while Severus’ hand had his cock straining and his balls drawing up.
“Come, Draco. Come for us.”
A wail rent Draco’s throat. It seemed that Severus’ hand pulled his orgasm from him, each stroke bringing forth another pulse of come and wracking Draco’s overwhelmed body with another pleasure-filled shudder. Harry cursed and fell into a flurry of swift thrusts, finding his own climax just as Draco’s ended. He collapsed forward over Draco’s back; only Severus’ steady arms kept them from tumbling to the floor.
Though his body and mind were humming with ecstasy, Draco’s thighs were beginning to protest the position they’d been kept in for so long. He shifted, trying to find some relief for his aching muscles. Harry eased out of him and Severus lifted him up, arranging him so that he was sitting sideways on Severus’ lap. Draco curled into Severus’ chest with a happy sigh.
Harry sat next to Severus, picking up Draco’s legs to drape them over his own thighs. He and Severus kissed slowly, deeply. Draco was content to watch them through half-lidded eyes.
One of Harry’s hands crept up between Draco’s legs, his index finger dipping down to slide over Draco’s dripping, thoroughly abused hole. Draco twitched, sore and oversensitive, but Harry only had eyes for Severus as he brought his finger to Severus’ lips, wet with their combined come. Severus held his gaze as he lowered his head to suck Harry’s finger into his mouth.
Draco had to close his eyes, the intensity of the moment too much for him to bear in his raw state. He heard them kiss again, then nothing but their gradually evening breaths as a comfortable silence descended over the room.
Just as Draco was starting to doze off, Harry said, “So, how about that promotion?”
Have A Drink On Me
Forget about the check, we'll get hell to pay.
- FIC: The Promotion