Fic Claim: stitched and sewn
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 7.9k
Warnings/Tags: Implied Infidelity, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Auror Partners, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Friends to Lovers, Co-workers, Smut, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Draco Malfoy, Unreliable Narrator, Brief mention of scars, Briefly Mentioned Canon Typical Violence, POV Third Person, Porn with Feelings, Mutual Pining, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language
Song prompt: Fine Line - Harry Styles
Written for @hd-wireless 2021 💕 Big thanks go out to the mods for putting this fest on and all the work they’ve done running it! Lots of love to the one and only @peachpety for all of the amazing beta and alpha work, as well as listening to me screaming my head off everyday about this fic! 😂 My utmost gratitude to @nv-md for wrangling me in at the last minute, coming in clutch, beta’ing my hot mess fever dream writing and her support at every turn. To @lou-isfake for letting me yell into the abyss via DM and helping me brainstorm and get this idea out and figuring out a way that something so terribly sad could possibly have a happy ending. And special shout outs to @vukovich for cheerleading me through this, continuously convincing me to not give up in the midst of all my real life stress and @thusspoketrish for going on an epic 7 hour sprint with me so I could finish this up and for keeping me sane (or at least vaguely coherent) and making me laugh instead of cry. I couldn’t have done it without you guys, and I love ya’ll. Finally, so much love for all the wonderful readers who left me lovely comments and made me proud to have written this story.
Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. Draco can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself.
Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.
He wants to keep this. He wants to spend hours in adoration, praising Harry’s bronzed skin, the tufts of hair peeking out from his waistband, the scars littering his frame. He wants to taste him, memorize the feeling, until he knows Harry like the back of his own hand. But he knows it’s impossible, intangible, something that will always remain beyond his grasp. So he takes what he can get, reminds himself of the ticking clock, and moves on far more quickly than his heart wants.
Draco slowly runs his hands against Harry’s stomach, watching as it tenses beneath his gentle touch with each desperate gasp. Slowly, so slowly, he slips beneath the waistband, delicately pulling his pants down below muscular hips, waiting for Harry to lift up so they can join the rest of his clothing on the floor. Harry inhales, deep and steady, once. Exhales shakily, his fingers twisting up the duvet at his sides, staring at the ceiling, blush blooming across his cheeks and spreading down his collarbones. Finally, finally, he lifts his hips briefly, letting himself lose this last layer, baring himself to Draco at last. Hands trembling slightly as they rest themselves back at Harry’s hips, fingertips tracing the sharp jut of bones and muscle, Draco takes a shuddering breath against Harry’s skin.
This is Draco’s favorite part, if he had to choose - though most of it ranks among some of his life’s greatest delights on their own. But it’s at this point that Harry has chosen him, has given in. It’s the point at which Harry has surrendered himself that is truly intoxicating, the heady rush of lust and acceptance coursing through Draco’s veins, the pure, unadulterated, unfiltered need that fills them both. He sometimes thinks that it’s in this moment that he can finally know him, spread out beneath him, limbs loose with want, all walls between them fallen to dust. No more lies here, or denial, or expectations. Just this. Harry, in his barest form, lips swollen and panting, looking at Draco and nothing else.
Read stitched and sewn on A03!
