An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Carey ‘W’Recs Wednesday(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ presents:
thecouchsofa @thecouchsofa
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley
Additional Tags: Acquaintances with Benefits (sort of), Virgin Harry Potter, Dragon Tamer Draco, Dom/sub vibes, Soft Dom Draco Malfoy, Massage, Comeplay, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, terms of endearment, Mild Breeding Kink, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Bottom Harry Potter, mentions of past Harry/OCs, realistically this is a PWP in a trench coat
Harry’s eyes landed again on the burn mark on Malfoy’s arm, his mouth going dry in response. “I, uh, I have something to ask you.”
“Yes, I gathered that. I also thought that, by your own admission, you were fucking it up, so I’d best leave you to it.”
“It’s … certainly something to do with fucking,” Harry said, rather weakly.
Malfoy’s eyes widened, then quickly narrowed. “Are you trying to solicit me for sex, Potter?”
“Um … I won’t pay you?”
“What the fuck.”
Harry decides that it’s high time to lose his virginity, and figures that asking Malfoy is his best option. He’s fit, he won’t go to the papers, and he’ll be fine with Harry’s ‘no emotional attachment’ plan. Surely nothing could go wrong there.
“Indulge me, Potter.” Malfoy reclined, resting his arms along the back of the booth. His legs were spread apart, drawing Harry’s gaze to the slight bulge at the front of his tailored trousers. “I must confess that I still don’t entirely believe your motivations for being here. I mean, the Saviour, a blushing virgin? Unlikely.”
Harry shrugged. “Believe what you want but I haven’t lied.”
“Hmm.” Malfoy watched Harry for a moment, as though searching for something in his face, in his posture. “What have you done then? Surely you’ve kissed someone at the very least?”
“Who?” Malfoy’s tone took on a possessive lilt that really, really should not have sent Harry’s blood pumping a little faster. But it did.
“Ginny. A few girls she played Quidditch with. A few boys she knew from the circuit.”
“Saucy.” Malfoy was biting his lip, an incisor sinking into the petal pink flesh. “She introduced you, I take it?”
Harry nodded. “Not many people after that though. I assume you saw the crap that was in the papers at that time.”
“Ah, yes, what was it? ‘Heartthrob Harry’s Harem’? Godawful headline, that one. Properly uninspired. I most certainly could have come up with better.” Malfoy’s tongue pushed against the inside of his bottom lip as Harry watched. “You didn’t fuck any of them?”
Harry took another sip of whisky, savouring the burn this time. “Never seemed right. And it was … weird most of the time. Everyone knowing who I was when I didn’t know them. People wanting to go out in public where we’d be seen. One bloke even owled the Prophet himself, when we’d set a date for dinner. Just didn’t seem worth it.”
Malfoy’s gaze was assessing. “You could’ve picked up a Muggle or two. You might be Merlin’s gift to wizardkind here, but I can’t imagine that extends into their world.”
Harry snorted, shaking his head. “It doesn’t. But that didn’t seem right either. It’s never been a huge issue, to tell you the truth. It’s been fine.”
Harry shrugged. “Felt like the right time, I guess.”
Malfoy paused for a moment to run his fingers through his hair. The back of his hand was marred by a bright pink streak, another healed burn. “What else did you do with those people? Your Quidditch players. Did you snog them a few times and call it a day?”
“I … not exactly.” Harry swallowed, waited until Malfoy held his gaze again. “I let them touch me, a bit. I touched them too.”
Malfoy’s eyes went dark, his pupils widening, gaze shifting in intensity. “Tell me about it. What did you do with them?”
So Harry did. He told Malfoy about fumbling with one of Ginny’s teammates in the broom shed by the Harpies’ locker room. He told him about gripping the cock of the Puddlemere reserve Beater though his Quidditch trousers, how he’d felt the hardness against his palm and nearly come on the spot. He told Malfoy about letting the junior publicist for the Arrows jerk him off in the back hallway of one of the World Cup parties.
Malfoy leaned forward, full whisky glass dangling from his fingertips. “How did it feel?”
Harry’s mouth went dry, breath puffing between his lips as though he’d run a marathon. His tongue felt thick when he rubbed it over his bottom lip.
“Did you come, Potter? When they touched you?”
Harry’s whole body zinged with sensation, his skin oversensitive. He grasped the front of his jeans without thinking, squeezing gently. “Yeah. I really liked it.”
All throughout, Malfoy’s eyes didn’t leave his. His gaze stayed locked on Harry, watching as his cheeks darkened, his breaths becoming shallower. Malfoy’s trousers were considerably tighter than they had been before, a visible straining at the front. He licked his lips as Harry talked about biting down on his hand to muffle his sounds, lest someone burst round the corner and catch him in the act.
“My, my,” Malfoy said. He lifted his glass to his lips, dipping only the point of his tongue into the liquid. Harry couldn’t hold back the rather embarrassing whimper that he let out at the sight. Malfoy smirked. “See something you like, Potter?”
“Tell me about yours,” Harry said, biting back the words that he actually wanted to let spill out. “Do you do much work out on the reserves, or is it all muscular orgies?”
Malfoy’s incisor sunk into his bottom lip as he fought a grin. “Shirts aren’t seen as a mandatory part of the uniform. They usually get all singed, anyway. Ruinous for the fabric. It makes a rather nice sight over one’s morning coffee.”
“Right,” Harry said. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, his wrists, his throat. “Are we … when are we leaving here?”
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “When I say so. But first, I need to know what you want from this, aside from what you’ve said already. I don’t know how knowledgeable you are in matters of sex, but there are a few things that we need to hammer out before actually doing them.”
“You can do whatever you like,” Harry said, before he could stop himself.
“Can I now?” Malfoy dipped the tip of his tongue into his whisky again. “I won’t go too far, not this time. As much as I might like to.”
And Harry trusted him, as absurd as it was. He took Malfoy at his word and didn’t ask for further reassurance.
“I’d like you to … lead. To take control.” Harry pushed his half-full glass away from himself so he wouldn’t down the whole thing. “Just until I work out what I’m doing.”
“That,” Malfoy said, voice low, “I can do.” He set his glass down on the table and stood with a flourish. He held a hand out to Harry, a dark grin on his face. “Shall we?”
“Fuck yes,” Harry muttered, delighting in the way the corners of Malfoy’s mouth quirked up in response. He took the proffered hand and stood, stepping into Malfoy’s space. “Lead the way.”
