“And so, the ties of matrimony bind us. With this final charm—”
“Wait! Stop—I—I protest!”
The manor garden was in an uproar as Harry pelted down the aisle and shoved Draco and Pansy apart.
“You can’t—put that wand away or I’ll snap it,” Harry snapped at the officiant, who squeaked and backed away.
“Potter, what the fuck,” Pansy said. “We discussed this.”
“Harry, I don’t want to commit murder on my wedding day, but it’s not off the table,” Draco hissed.
“You may not have to,” Pansy said. “Here comes Lucius.”
“Mr Potter,” Lucius Malfoy said coldly. “It is only in deference to your continued, bewildering importance in my social circles that I am not felling you where you stand. What is the meaning of this?”
Harry stared around, eyes wild. Narcissa was holding back Pansy’s mother, possibly from punching Harry in the face (Pansy’s father, to his credit, looked amused). Harry looked where he had run up, only now noticing the hundreds of well-dressed wixen who were staring, aghast. He turned and looked to his left: Daphne Greengrass, looking bored; Astoria, looking highly entertained; Millicent, her lip curled like Harry had bathed in dragon shit before coming. To his right: Theo, brow raised; Blaise, even more bored than Daphne; Greg, frowning like he didn’t really want to pound Harry into the ground, since they were friends now, but he would, if Draco needed.
“Er,” Harry said, looking at Draco. “I interrupted.”
“You think?” Draco snapped. “Was that not the point?”
“No! I mean, yes, I intended to stop the wedding. Of course I protest this stupid farce of a wedding. You’re only doing it to make your father happy, and he’s a horrible person, so I don’t much care about his happiness.” Harry ignored the gasps of shock. “I care about your happiness, Draco. And Pansy’s too, for some bloody reason.”
Harry shook himself. “But that’s not the point! The rings, they’re cursed.”
Primrose Parkinson swooned.
“Potter,” Lucius snapped, “how dare you—”
“Oh, for—not by me! Why would I try to curse the man I love?”
More gasps.
Draco put his face in his hands. “Harry. Explain.”
“Well, you know I’ve been working on that case with the Aurors—” No fewer than five people snorted disdainfully. “Yes, they’re all shit, I know, but I’m not one; can we move the fuck on?”
“You know the case.” Harry turned to Lucius. “All those horrible ‘accidents’ the last year? Mostly affecting high-profile individuals? They’re all linked. It was intentional. Someone’s been trying to bring down the bloody government or something, I don’t know.”
Harry explained how his work analysing the artefacts had eventually—just that morning, in fact—led them to the perpetrator, who had, in typical evil-villain fashion, spouted the plans in motion to ‘take down the house of Malfoy.’
“So,” Harry finished, “I came straight here. I know I said I wouldn’t be caught dead at your wedding unless I was on the altar with you, but—” Harry looked around. “Well, I guess I am.”
Harry turned to Pansy. “I know you don’t want to marry him any more than I want you to. If you actually care about pureblood toff nonsense so much, fine, I can’t stop either of you from being stupid,” Harry said. “But don’t use the rings unless you want the shortest marriage in history. I rather like you, Pans, even if you are marrying my boyfriend.”
There was silence.
“I’m not.” Pansy said.
And … there was chaos again.
“No, shut up, all of you,” Pansy screeched. “Luna told me there’d be a sign. I thought I was being too superstitious when I spilled tea on my dress. I thought I was overreacting when the Abraxans ate my bloody bouquet. But someone literally tried to kill us! I’m not doing it. I have a fucking girlfriend. Get over it. I’m sure Draco can spare some sperm for a baby.”
Everyone turned to Draco, who felt his face flushing. “Yes, Pansy, not at all weird to ask in front of all these people, but sure. Have at my sperm.”
“Thank you,” Pansy said.
She turned to Harry. “We evidently don’t have any rings, but everything else is ready for you.”
Harry looked at Draco.
Draco looked at Harry, heart racing. Harry took his hand.
“Will you?”
“… We don’t have rings.”
Harry pulled two rings from his pocket. “I’ve been carrying these around ever since you turned me down, you tit.”
Harry said yes to being Draco’s best man because it was the only reasonable response.
On the big day Astoria looked beautiful and Draco looked like he’d die of happiness. Harry stood by him, smiling and smiling.
It was perfectly manageable. Harry'd gotten to practice this particular smile for years.
prompt from @drarrymicrofic | my Drarry microfic collection on Ao3
So, I'm finally getting around to these and I'm so glad. This was a stellar prompt for all the spicy, sexy thoughts I had yesterday. I hope a little nsfw is alright with you, friend, I really do. If not, let me know and I'll do a redo! Might put this up on Ao3 so I can tag better, but for now, viola!
There was a subtle power in cords. An art inherent of beautiful knots in capable, strong hands. It had been a few years, but Carlos was still filled with fresh hunger at TK’s confident, heated gaze on him.
Dark eyes flitting over his bare arms and chest, the sapphire blue cord in TK’s curled fingers. The tip of Carlos’ pink tongue appeared to swipe over the deeper pink marks left by his teeth in the full purse of his lips — a small price to pay for the heady swirl of following orders, kneeling for his husband in the center of their big bed.
“You look so pretty, baby,” TK said, green eyes glittering like sea glass in sunshine. He licked his lips, expression lupine as he took in Carlos, running the cord length through his fingers. He squared his shoulders, chin tilted up with domineering swagger, and Carlos’ stomach swooped. He felt like a prize, worth millions.
Carlos could only smile. Words failed him at the most inconvenient times; struck him fully when it mattered the most.
“You’re in good hands, baby, I want you to know that.” TK was down to a tee shirt and black uniform pants. Save for his boots, all the trappings of his occupation had been stripped as soon as their door was closed and locked. “You’re going to look gorgeous in this color.”
“You think?” Carlos whispered, some of his normal, teasing swagger taking its time coming back.
“I do,” TK purred. He slid a knee onto the bed, the black fabric stretching over the swell of his thighs. Carlos’ eyes lingered, remembering the bruises he’d left there two days ago.
He tilted his head to the side, giving TK a simmering come-hither smile. “How long have you wanted to do this?”
“Months, baby,” TK sighed. His voice dipped low, honeyed and heated. “I’ve thought about all the positions I could put you in, all the patterns I could lace over your skin.” He chuckled softly. “Got me through a lot of lonely nights, thinking of you bound up, just for me.”
Carlos shivered. “Tell me.”
TK raised an eyebrow, wrapping a section of velvety blue around his knuckles. “Do you want me to tell you?”
“I-.” Carlos thought, eyes running the length of TK’s body. His firm chest and strong hands, the evening stubble shadowing his jaw, the obvious tent at the apex of his legs. Carlos knew his answer before the words reached his mouth. “No.”
“No?”
“I trust you.” Carlos broke orders, leaning forward onto his hands and knees. He arched his back, rolled his shoulders and neck — putting on a show for his husband. “Truss me up, mi cielo. Make me pretty for you.”
TK didn’t need to be told twice. He’d already begun creating the first loop, eyes locked on Carlos. He held the man’s chin tightly, tilting it up for a rough kiss. “Turn around, baby. Back to me.”
Carlos ran his tongue across the tops of his teeth, eyes glittering. He winked, bold. “Yes sir.”
In one smooth movement, Carlos pulled away and rolled around on his knees. His boxer briefs bunched up at the fold of his leg, the center seam rubbing up against him. He wriggled his hips as he sat back on his ankles, held his hands softly at the small of his back, and adjusted his shoulders into something comfortable for the long haul.
He smiled to himself. TK’s gaze raking over him was obvious, scorching, perfect. Feasting on and drowning in him in equal measure. There were no secrets between them — not since the ice storm, not since they’d woken up fiancés, not since they’d said their vows and promised their hearts forever, come what may. Carlos was safe in TK’s hands. He’d been only too happy to discover all the ways he loved being held by them, handled by them, spread open and split apart and put back together expertly by them.
The first loop of jewel-toned blue dropped over Carlos’ head. The first knot resting just below the scoop of his collarbones. TK ran a soothing hand down the line of his spine and over his back side, teasing him through his underwear. Carlos sighed and sank into the feeling, helpless to TK’s easy control.
“I’ve had this in mind for you since I laid eyes on you this morning. Since you stepped out of the shower, looking golden and hot,” TK murmured. The bed shifted and then his presence was pressed up close again, surrounding Carlos like a curtain. His lips ghosted against the column of his neck, tongue flicking out to taste his skin. “Since you told me you wanted this, baby. I bought this color thinking about you, just for you.”
“Making me pretty?”
“You know it.”
“Good.” Carlos purred low in his throat, tipping his head back. “I like your eyes on me.”
TK spread a hand over his breastbone. “You good to keep going, or do you have questions, Carlos?”
“I’m good, I feel good,” Carlos replied. “Green, Ty.”
“I’ll be checking in.” A soft kiss landed between Carlos’ shoulder blades, then his husband began working in earnest.
One knot after the other made and laid down Carlos’ front. They rested at his sternum, even with his smallest ribs, just between the crests of his hip bones. TK passed the cord between Carlos’ legs, gently guiding the fifth and final knot to press against his perineum. TK kissed the line of his shoulder as he rolled the knot, chuckling happily as Carlos groaned his pleasure.
“Be loud for me, Carlos,” TK said, tone brushing up against an order. “No one’s around to hear but us.”
Carlos smirked. “Didn’t know the lizard was deaf.”
“Shut up.” TK snickered. He moved his hand to Carlos’ cock, squeezing pointedly. “Want me to take you out, baby?”
“Can you?”
“Like that’s even a question.” TK’s fingers quickly dipped beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs, pulling out Carlos’ cock and guiding it between the cord. “Feel okay like that?”
Carlos hummed contentedly. “Yeah.”
The cord shifted then tightened across his back. “How about now?”
“Yeah.” Carlos rolled his shoulders and hips against the restraints, feeling them out. He nodded again and went still. “Green.”
“Might have to buy a green rope too,” TK murmured, hands working across Carlos’ back. “You’d look just as good.”
“You say I look good in anything, Ty.”
“Just the truth.”
TK’s hands tucked underneath Carlos’ arms. He dragged the cords through the slack between the first and second knot, then back around and laced them across the muscles of Carlos’ back. They fell into silence, TK working and Carlos pleased to be worked on. His eyes fluttered shut, head tipped back to expose more of his neck to TK. TK, to his credit, resisted enough — placing kisses, nipping at the raised tendons, but going no further — to get each diamond fully formed. He lingered at Carlos’ stomach, seeming to indulging in the clench and release of his muscles.
“Color?”
“Green.”
“Almost done, baby. One more tie—.”
“Lock my wrists,” Carlos interrupted. He tucked his hands behind his back, making his desire clear. “Please?”
“Fuck.” TK let out a breath. “You sure?”
“Wanna be at your mercy,” Carlos answered. His voice hinged on a lust-addled whisper. Heat had long since curled up and made a home between his hips. His cock had thickened between the soft cords, leaking against his hips. He could feel all of TK’s want pressed up against his own. He tilted his head, nose bumping against his husband’s jaw. “I’ll make a pretty picture, baby. I know you know that, I know you want that.”
“Carlos.”
“Color?”
“Green. You?”
“Green.” Carlos nuzzled as close as he could. “Do it and move the mirror. Wanna see us.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” TK let out a harsh breath and pulled back for the final securing ties. He reset Carlos’ wrist in a position he liked, then secured them with the last of the cord. “Wow… holy shit, baby.”
Carlos preened under his stare, his touch. Pride bloomed in his chest at the roughness of his husband’s tone. It was intoxicating to know he could effect him so deeply without lifting a finger.
TK slid up behind him, legs bracketing Carlos’ hips as he wrapped him in a firm embrace. “I’m gonna get the mirror, but holy fuck, Carlos.”
Carlos’ laugh rumbled in his chest. “I look that good, huh?”
“Yeah,” TK’s voice quivered. “Just you wait.” He pressed kisses all over Carlos’ cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder; tucked his face against his sensitive skin, the brush of his stubble lighting Carlos’ nerve endings on fire. “I’m going to get the mirror, then I’m gonna touch you. Good?”
“Green.”
“Two secs, babe. Two seconds.”
“Is that for me or for you?” Carlos teased, eyes still closed. “Because last I checked, I’m the patient one of the two of us.”
There was a rattle and a huff. “I’m patient.”
“Then why am I the one tied up, Ty?” Carlos drawled, the challenge evident.
Footsteps rounded the bed and then mattress shifted again. Carlos exhaled, settled, and suddenly TK was back behind him. His fingers were in Carlos’ curls, purposefully heavy. “I’m patient enough for you.”
“Yeah.” Carlos whined as TK’s fingers yanked his hair at the roots. “Yeah you are.”
TK’s other hand roamed. Fingers skimming over Carlos’ skin, never stopping, never landing. He pinched the curve of his hip, rolled his nipples, dragged the edge of his fingernail over the most sensitive bits.
Carlos let it feel him up top to bottom — the shivering pleasure, the aching trust, the satisfaction at being so utterly gone on the man pressed against him. He licked his lips as TK moved onto the tender stretch of his throat, licked a firm line up the path of his pulse; all while feeling up the rise and fall of his ribs, the thrum of his heart in his chest. Carlos had told him once just what such single-minded focus did to him — how it drove him wild, left him gasping and unseamed to be totally consumed by someone.
Someone just for him.
TK had done nothing but deliver ever since.
His hand was back in his hair, gentler now. Petting, scratching, smoothing. “Open your eyes, Carlos.”
Carlos inhaled, blinking his eyes open and focusing on the polished glass in front of them. “Oh. Vaya.”
They made a pretty pair.
There was no doubt about that.
Carlos, front and center, kneeling with spread thighs. Skin illuminated golden by their low bedroom lights, crisscrossed with deep lines of sapphire blue. His face flushed a delicate pink, his curls mussed up, the bite in his lower lip making him look thoroughly debauched. TK tucked up behind him and chin resting on Carlos’ shoulder, cypress eyes skating over their reflection too. One deft hand buried in Carlos’ hair, holding his head just so. His other arm slung around Carlos’ waist, fingertips lazily teasing Carlos’ cock.
“Fuck,” Carlos said, barely more than a whisper. A breath, punched out of him as pleasure tightened in his guts. “More.”
TK arched an eyebrow. “More?”
Carlos nodded. “Sí. Anda, TK, I need you, cielo. Please.”
TK wrapped his fingers around him, squeezed, then fell still. He crowded closer to Carlos, nipping at his ear with a trickster’s grin on his face. “What was that, baby?”
“Please.”
“One more?”
“Please.” Once upon a time, Carlos would have flushed hot with unpleasant embarrassment at whining so freely. Held in TK’s arms, it didn’t touch him. Being vocal came easy there. Never any shame in saying exactly what he wanted.
TK kissed him, sloppy and open-mouthed, then pulled away with a filthy pop. The fingers on Carlos’ cock rolled, then began moving. Heavy, bone-deep drags on him. Pulling moans and shivers from him, matching TK’s soft encouragements in his ear.
“C’mon baby. So pretty like this. Move your hips, c’mon, I know you can. Work for it, Carlos, I want you to work for it.”
It didn’t take long before Carlos was tipping over the edge. He arched against TK, against those gem-colored binds, as he came hard; seeing not just stars, but whole swirling constellations. TK moved him through it, caught him as he slumped back.
As Carlos came back to himself, his wrists were undone and in TK’s capable hands. He grinned up at him deliriously. “Your turn, Ty.”
TK shook his head. “I’m gonna need a minute, Carlos.”
Carlos’ brow creased. “How d’you mean?”
“Let me show you.” TK moved him just enough to reach the button and sip fly of his work pants. He undid the front, then guided Carlos’ hands back to press against the damp and cooling front of his boxers. “See?”
“Oh,” Carlos breathed. He giggled a bit. “Didn’t do anything and I got you?”
TK laughed too. “Oh yeah, baby. You got me good.”
“Good.” Carlos inhaled and pulled his arms up over his head, stretching and rolling like a cat in a sunbeam. The blue cord slackened further and TK moved to help unlace his torso. “I like you messy for me.”
“I am your hot mess, baby.” TK kissed his cheek. “Put the mirror back, grab a snack, and then round two?”
“Sounds perfect.” Carlos pulled TK into another kiss — open mouthed and wet and perfect — before tucking their foreheads together. “Love you, TK.”
