The last thing Draco Malfoy had expected when heâd awoken that morning was Harry Potter standing on his doorstep at three in the bloody morning, looking, very pale, and covered in blood. He supposed he shouldnât have been surprised to see Potter here after all Draco had worked on the Auror multiple times over the last few years of being a Healer, so it didnât seem all that surprising that Harry would come to him now with, whatever this problem was.
âCan I come in?â Harry asked.
âSure, knock yourself out,â Draco said, gesturing for Harry to come inside his flat. âCare to tell me why youâre covered in blood Potter, or is this just another day in the life of the Ministryâs golden boy?â
âSomething like that,â Harry replied, looking around Dracoâs flat. It was, exactly as Harry expected it to be, chic, minimalist, and dark.
Draco huffed, folding his arms across his chest, as he waited for Harry to explain his presence in his home when Harry made no move to do so, Draco crossed the space between them in three strides and looked Harry over with a critical healers eye. And then he spotted it. Two small puncture marks at the base of Harryâs neck, clearly the source of the blood then, Draco thought.
Harry frowned. âTonight. I was on a mission andâŠâ Draco held up a hand.
âSpare me your life story Potter. Iâm not really interested,â he moved into his kitchen and pulled two bags of artificial blood he kept in case of emergency, from his fridge. Pulling out his wand, he warmed the first bag up to room temperature and handed it to Harry. âHere. Itâs artificial since St. Mungoâs canât afford the loss of giving out real blood to vampires. Itâs not a great workaround,â Draco said as Harry devoured the bag rather quickly. âBut, itâll do the job.â Harry licked his blood-stained lips and Draco bit back a moan at that.
âDelicious,â Harry said. âHow?â
âMy own concoction actually. I found if you mix a drop of human blood with blood replenishing potion it manages to create a fairly sustainable supply. I can make you more fairly quickly and owl them to you on a regular basis.â
âWhose blood?â Harry asked.
âWorried Iâve got someone chained up in my spare bedroom that Iâm slowly draining one drop at a time?â Draco asked, arms folded across his chest.
âI wasnât, but now I feel I should be,â Harry replied. Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.
âItâs my blood, you simpleton!â Draco hissed. âYou think I could convince anyone to just willingly give me some of their blood to experiment with?â Harry shrugged, sheepishly, holding on to the second bag gratefully.
âI⊠thank you, by the way,â Harry said. âI feel loads better already.â Draco smiled.
âTry not to drink it all at once, and for god sakes, Potter, donât show up to my house at three in the morning covered in blood again! Next time go to St. Mungoâs.â Harry nodded and saw himself out, leaving Draco standing alone in his living room, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. Shaking his head, Draco padded back into his bedroom, trying to get a few hours of sleep before heâd be expected for his shift at St. Mungoâs.
For his part, Harryâs life had virtually returned to normal since heâd received Dracoâs artificial blood supply. It was deliciously addictive, but Harry couldnât stop thinking about the fact that it belonged to Malfoy.
Harry had become restless. His sleeping times had become filled with images of Draco sprawled out beneath him, Harryâs fangs deep in his throat, devouring his hot, rich blood from the source. It never failed to arouse him, and every time he would wake up, harder than heâd ever remembered being in his life, furiously wanking to the image of a very pale Draco Malfoy moaning as Harry devoured his blood. After nearly a month of dreams like this, Harry had had enough. The artificial blood no longer satisfied him.
He didnât remember apparating to Dracoâs front door, nor did he particularly remember knocking, but there he was. Standing in the doorway of his flat, his arms folded across his chest, wearing only a short dressing gown. Harry wondered briefly what blood would taste like taken from the manâs inner thigh, and shuddered at the thought. Draco eyed him.
âWell?â Draco asked. Harry merely stared at him, his eyes were red, Draco noticed, and he couldnât help but wonder if Harry had stopped taking the artificial blood completely. Swallowing, Draco invited him inside again, wondering if he shouldnât tweak the potion a little. Harry shut the door behind him, and before Draco could ask, Harry had appeared at his side, as fast as if he had apparated. His nose was in Dracoâs throat then, inhaling the scent of his blood as his pulse fluttered beneath his skin. Sharp fangs dug into his throat, as Harry held him tight in his embrace. Draco gasped, it stung, only for a moment, then an ecstasy the likes of which Draco had never known swept over him.
Draco shuddered, and moaned, rutting himself against Harryâs leg as Harry devoured more and more of his blood. Draco felt his orgasm build, unexpectedly, he was certain he might black out at any moment from the blood loss, but Harryâs tongue was laving at his neck, and it was so hot, and he was so, so close.
Literally. Harry had finished and unceremoniously dropped Draco onto the floor, and Draco knew he could not have stood if heâd wanted to. Panting heavily, Draco looked down to find a wet spot on his dressing gown. How heâd managed to come mid-fall heâd never know, but he had. Harry suddenly looked worried, and Draco knew where this was going. The man had dropped to his knees beside Draco then.
âMalfoy Iâm so so sorry. I donât know what came over me,â he said, looking at Draco as if he were some sort of delicate flower. Draco snorted.
âShut up Potter!â he ordered. His voice hoarse, no doubt from all the moaning, and his head was pounding. âFirstly, in my bathroom cabinet, thereâs a blood replenishing potion, grab it for me?â he asked. Harry was up in a flash and had returned before Draco had fully finished the question. Draco grinned downing the vial in one gulp. He felt, monumentally better. âThatâs better,â he said his voice returning. âSecondly, that was⊠arguably the best orgasm Iâve ever had in my life.â Somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco thought that sounded rather pathetic. Coming, completely untouched while a vampire half drained him of all his blood, and yet, one look into Harryâs green eyes told him Harry had also become aroused, his pupils were blown wide, and looking down at Harryâs trousers, Draco could see a considerable bulge. Grinning, Draco slowly spread his legs for the vampire then, revealing he was not currently wearing any pants. Harry stared, his mouth watering at the sight. âDonât tell me I have to invite you in?â Malfoy teased, spreading his legs further, as he sucked a finger into his mouth, and dragged it, tantalizingly slowly down towards his hole. Harry stared, transfixed as the digit slipped inside. Draco let out a little whimper as he fingered himself open in front of the vampire. Harry swallowed, barely biting back a moan. Draco moved to two fingers, and Harry growled, with lightning-fast reflexes, Harry leaped onto Draco, pinning his arms above his head, as he kissed him hard.
âHow are you so perfectly beautiful?â Harry growled, kissing over Dracoâs jaw, grinding his hard clothes covered length over Dracoâs naked hole. Draco moaned at that. âSo so beautiful,â Harry said, as if in a trance as he kissed down his throat, sucking over the bite marks heâd left there. Kissing the bruises softly. Harry knew that he would never be able to drink from anyone else after heâd had Draco, he suspected no one else would prove as good in bed either. Dracoâs hand braced on his thigh.
âPlease Harry,â he begged, and Harry found, he couldnât possibly resist those beautiful pink lips begging him, to fuck him. So he did.
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