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[personal profile] create_serenity
Title: What Can I Do?
Rating: R/18
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters.
Warnings: H/D slash, very smutty
Author's Notes: Please note the warning! If you don't like smut, don't read. This isn't very romantic, although in later chapters it gets a bit fluffier.

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 4: Dreams

Two days later Draco realised that he’d been wrong. He really wasn’t going to work something out. He’d tried unsuccessfully to hump the mattress again when he’d woken up, but had quickly come to the conclusion that whilst it felt nice it was never going to get him off. He was too used to rough sex and his own hand for something like that to bring him to orgasm, especially when he had absolutely no leverage with his useless arms. No, he was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.

He was getting sick of imagining Millicent naked, but at least it had worked for now. It was going to stop working pretty soon though if Potter carried on the way he was going.

“Potter please don’t do that.”

“What?” Potter was looking at him in surprise, which was no surprise at all to Draco because the man was only doing what he always did, which was kneel in front of him whilst he help him step into his boxers.

Unfortunately having those green eyes look at him from that position was only making things worse. Draco could feel his cock rapidly hardening and his cheeks reddening and he really wasn’t sure at this point which was worse.

Actually he was. It was definitely his cock. Potter was looking at it with pursed lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.


“Potter I’ve had nothing for three weeks. One hand job two days ago is not going to make the problem go away. Not when you’re kneeling in front of me like that.”

“I didn’t know you found me that attractive.” Merlin, since when did Potter get so confident and so teasing? Draco would have expected him to go all red and mumbly at his words, but instead he was shooting him a flirty grin and making Draco’s problem ten times worse.

“Like I said, it’s not you Potter.” It was hard to talk through gritted teeth, but Draco was trying it anyway in the hope that it might help the problem go away. “I’m sexually frustrated. Anyone would turn me on right now.”

There was a derisive snort from below. “Good job you aren’t staying with Ron then.”

Well, that image had certainly helped his problem, at least a little. “Maybe not Weasley,” he conceded, just because the idea was so horrifying it needed an outright denial.

“So I see.” Why did Potter feel the need to examine his cock so thoroughly? Anyone would think he’d never seen one before and the look on his face was undoing the good work Weasley had just done. “Oh for fuck’s sake Malfoy!”

His hand was on Draco’s cock again before Draco could object and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, determined to pretend that it was someone else doing this. Someone who wasn’t Potter. His strokes were firm but gentle, not at all what Draco, who liked it fast and rough if he wasn’t being teased, would normally have gone for, but he was determined that he was not going to give the man instructions because any words uttered now beyond the occasional “fuck,” might indicate that he was enjoying this more than he really should. He was letting Potter do this because he needed it to be done, not because he wanted Potter to do it. Nothing he said or did was going to suggest otherwise.

He came eventually and if he was honest it wasn’t quite as satisfying as the last time, but it was enough for his legs to give way and for him to be forced to stumble sideways enough that he fell onto the edge of the bed and slipped boneless to the floor whilst Harry watched, helpless to steady him because he seemed to have caught most of Draco’s come in his hands.

“Ok,” he said, extracting his wand carefully and casting a cleaning charm, “Now can I get you dressed.”

“Fine Potter, I didn’t ask you to do that,” Draco spat, scrambling to his feet with the aid of the bed to support him, “I’ve told you I’ll work something out.”

“Well until then we’re both stuck with this as a solution so I suggest you get used to it.”

The words were no comfort to Draco, who waited in stony silence until Potter had finished dressing him and left the room.


By the end of another week Draco had been forced to let Potter ‘help’ him out twice more and unlike Kreacher’s assistance, which he still hadn’t quite got used to, he was getting used to this. It was odd, since it was a lot more intimate, but perhaps it was the oddly clinical way Potter seemed to approach the whole thing, as if it were no more unusual than helping him put a shirt on, that at least made it more bearable.

It also helped that getting some relief had lowered his libido back to a more manageable levels and that in turn had made it much easier to fall back into the routine of exchanging casual insults with Potter when they went through their daily ritual of dressing and research in each other’s company. The less horny he was the less inclined he was to see Potter as attractive, although now he’d had the thought it was rather like an annoying fly in the back of his consciousness that just wouldn’t go away. The best he could do was keep it trapped under a glass and hope that it died from lack of food sooner rather than later.

“I should give you another bath.”

Potter was looking at him speculatively from his chair on the other side of the library. This time Draco didn’t flinch away from the words, but merely met his eyes and felt enough in control of himself to say calmly, “If you want.”

“I’m not sure want would be the right word Malfoy,” Potter said briskly, with one eyebrow raised, “But it’s probably a good idea. I’m not sure being constantly cleaned by magic alone is healthy.”

Draco resisted the urge to point out that there was absolutely nothing wrong with using cleaning charms indefinitely, because he really did want that bath and he didn’t want to put Potter off the idea. He was certain he had his body enough under control now that there would be no more embarrassing incidents.

There weren’t.

He scolded Potter for getting the shampoo in his eyes, and despite the fact that the man had once again stripped off his shirt, completely ignoring Draco’s suggestion that he could just use magic to dry his clothes if they got wet, Draco felt he kept himself under control very well. Considering it had been three days since he’d last let Potter touch him down there he felt rather proud of himself.

Unfortunately control only lasted whilst he was conscious and that night he dreamt. It was the man with green eyes again and this time Blaise wasn’t there. The man was perfect – everything Draco had ever wanted. Passionate and sensual and teasing him in just the right way until Draco thought he couldn’t take anymore. That was when the man wrapped his lips around his cock and looked at him with those liquid green eyes and started sucking hard enough to make lights dance before his eyes.

It was hot and wet and fucking amazing and… Draco woke up.


His back arched and his feet scrabbled against the covers because he was so hard and so desperate and if he’d had the use of his hands he’d have grabbed himself and probably brought himself off within seconds. Instead all he could do was swear frantically under his breath and writhe in a way that only caused painfully pleasurable friction of cloth against over sensitised skin that would bring no relief at all.

“What the hell's going on Malfoy?”

Potter. Of course he’d woken up at Draco’s initial shout. He was an Auror. There was no way he was going to sleep through something like that. The gas lamps in the room flared at a quick spell from Potter and Draco knew his problem was obvious and he didn’t even care right now.

“Fuck Potter just… fuck.” He managed to kick the covers down so that the tent in his trousers was more obvious and he saw a look of comprehension dawn on Potter’s face as he looked down at it.

“Bloody hell Malfoy, what were you dreaming about?”

“Fuck Potter, don’t ask stupid questions!”

To Potter’s eternal credit that did shut him up and to Draco’s relief he actually scrambled onto the bed, settled himself so he was straddling Draco’s thighs and eased his pants over his painfully throbbing erection.

“Fuck!” Somewhere in the back of his brain Draco knew he was acting like a mindless idiot but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If Potter didn’t get his hands on his cock right now he thought he might actually lose it. He arched desperately, using Potter’s weight as leverage and wondered vaguely what the man was even doing in that position in the first place.

Thankfully Potter got the idea and wrapped his fingers around the base starting that stroke he always used, the one that eventually brought Draco to a less than satisfying orgasm, but which he hadn’t bothered to tell him to change because he’d been coping. Coping. He really couldn’t cope with this right now.

“Fuck Potter harder!” he demanded, almost whimpering with relief as he felt the hand on his cock speed up a little. He had closed his eyes, simply because his sub conscious couldn’t bear to watch Potter whilst he begged him to do something that he’d really rather not have Potter doing at all.

“Harder Potter!” His voice sounded harsh and rough even to his ears, but right now he didn’t care. “Faster. Come on Potter.” Oh Merlin, since when was Potter a bloody expert at this? There had been an odd moment where Draco was sure Harry had grunted and he’d definitely felt him shift position and then suddenly the hand on his cock was everything Draco wanted it to be and more.

“Fuck yes, like that. Fuck. Yes!” Potter had twisted his hand just so and Draco came harder than he’d ever done in his entire life, swearing stupidly and arching his back so far he was pretty sure he’d actually damaged his muscles and when he came down from the high, panting and gasping and not even particularly sure what his bloody name was right now Potter was leaning over him, arms either side of his chest, breathing hard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked it like that?” he almost gasped, “No one likes it like that.”

Well that was an interesting statement. Interesting enough to let Draco put his thoughts back in order at any rate. If no one liked it like that how had he got so good at it? He raised an eyebrow and Potter suddenly looked embarrassed, as if he’d given away something that was supposed to be secret. He sat back and reached for his wand, giving Draco a view of something that confirmed his suspicion.

“Do you like it like that?” he asked as Potter muttered the cleaning spell.


Draco shot a very obvious glance at the bulge in Potter’s pyjama bottoms and the man coloured visibly.

“I’m gay Malfoy,” he said, as if this explained everything, “I’m not going to apologise for the fact that watching an attractive man writhe beneath me turns me on a bit, even when that man is a stuck up git.”

Draco ignored the insult in favour of raising his other eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. I do like it like that.” Potter rolled his eyes and climbed off his legs and Draco thought about asking him why he’d been there in the first place when usually the only part of his body touching Draco’s was his hand, but he was feeling smug enough about the other revelations to let it slide for now.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely not morning. Go back to sleep Malfoy.”

It was only slightly embarrassing that when he lay back down Potter had to tuck the covers back over him before he left the room.


When he next woke up the light coming through the curtains told him it was definitely morning and the naked feeling around his legs reminded him that he hadn’t actually pulled his pants back up after his little problem in the night. It seemed he’d kicked them off completely in his sleep as well because when he managed to swing himself round and sit up on the edge of the bed he was completely naked and sporting a very large erection.

He groaned quietly to himself and was just trying to conjure up a mental image of Pansy naked – because surely that would be enough after a mind blowing orgasm in the middle of the night, when the door opened and Potter walked in.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he spat, despite the fact that he was already well aware that Potter never knocked.

“Fucking hell Malfoy.” Potter’s eyebrows had got lost somewhere under his mop of hair and Draco decided that merely raising his eyebrows back as if nothing unusual was going on was probably the best way to deal with the situation.

“How often do you wank?”

“What!?” Draco spluttered indignantly, because who the hell asked a question like that of anyone, let alone someone that they didn’t even like.

“I asked how often you wanked.“ The little git didn’t even seem to realise his question was entirely inappropriate judging by the serene look on his face. “You know I read somewhere that the average man wanks two and a half times a week.”

“What?” That had caught Draco’s attention in spite of himself. “How the hell do you have half a wank?” Potter just shrugged, but Draco thought he might as well press the point since he was the one who’d quoted the stupid statistic in the first place. “And who the hell would be having half a wank anyway? What do they do get themselves half way off on Friday and then finish off on Monday?”

“It’s not literal Malfoy.” Yep, he was rolling his eyes again when Draco checked. “They aren’t really having half a wank, it’s just an average.”

“You’d have thought they’d have rounded it to something sensible. Like three. I could believe an average of three.”

“So you wank three times a week do you?” Potter looked triumphant, which made it rather a joy to let him down.

“I wank more than three times a week Potter. Come on. Who wanks that little?” He really wished he could fold his arms right now, but as always they were hanging uselessly by his side and he was forced instead to settle for raising his eyebrows and enjoying the blush that spread across Potter’s cheeks. “Are you telling me you only wank three times a week?”

“No I wank more than that too.” Unlike him Potter could actually fold his arms, “And this is a stupid conversation Malfoy.”

“You brought it up,” Draco grumbled and shifted his legs, “And talking about it really isn’t helping my problem you know.”

“I could help with that.” There was a gleam in Potter’s eyes that Draco wasn’t sure he entirely liked, but when the other man pushed him back onto the bed, and crawled over him and actually hauled him along the mattress so he was lying on it properly there wasn’t a whole lot Draco could do about it without the use of his arms. If he’d had the use of his arms he definitely would have pushed him off. Definitely. As it was he couldn’t really protest because his mouth had gone dry and he wasn’t going to do anything so undignified as try to talk when it would only result in a coughing fit.

Besides Potter had already settled on top of his thighs again and his hand was already wrapped around the head of his cock and his thumb was already spreading the pre-come there over the tip and it would really be a shame to stop him now.

Draco caught one glimpse of Potter’s wicked grin, decided he was enjoying this a bit too much and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. He really was not going to watch Potter’s expressions whilst he gave him a hand job.

“Fuck Potter.” It seemed the man knew how to tease as well as how to give a proper wank when he was in the right mood. His hand stroked lightly up and down, fingers tracing over the thick vein until he reached his balls. He knew what he was doing with those too, tugging lightly, massaging gently, moving back to his cock and rubbing his thumb around the head until Draco knew he was canting his hips upwards, trying to encourage Potter to do more, but damn it the man was an expert tease and he kept on going until Draco was all but writhing beneath him before he caved in and brought Draco off in a few quick, practised strokes that had Draco swearing in surprise at the suddenness of his orgasm.

It took him a while to come down and when he did finally open his eyes he closed them again quickly, not at all liking the self-satisfied expression on Potter’s face.

“Everyday,” he said finally, when he thought he trusted his voice to work and he’d managed to work some of the tightness out of his throat.

“What?” The confusion in Potter’s voice made him open his eyes. Had the man forgotten his question already?

“You asked how often I wank. Everyday, unless I happen to have had sex, which was actually quite often if you really must know.”

“Oh.” Potter looked surprised for a moment, though he quickly schooled his expression into one of neutral thoughtfulness in a gesture that Draco had to admit was impressive. He hadn’t realised Potter had gained such control over himself since school.

“So if I do this everyday you probably aren’t going to wake me up in the middle of the night again? I do need my sleep you know. Some of us still have to work.”

Draco felt his temper flare and didn’t bother to check it. “Well I’m terribly sorry Potter. Some of us aren’t staying at home through choice you know.”

At least Potter did look slightly guilty about that. He mumbled something that might have been sorry, but then again might not.

“And again if you really must know the answer is I don’t know. I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like that in the night before, but then like I said usually I have more sex than this. Who knows? You can try it if you want.”

“It’s not a case of want Malfoy. Do you think I like doing this to you?” Potter was frowning now and Draco matched him with a glare of his own.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who just suggested you do it everyday.”

“I need sleep Malfoy! Don’t start reading anything into it.” At least Potter had spelled him clean, which meant that he could sit up as soon as the other man got off his legs and pretend that Potter hadn’t just given him two amazing orgasms in the space of a few hours. Anyone could have done it, he told himself. Anyone. The fact that no one, not even Blaise had ever made them quite that good, was probably just down to the fact that he usually had sex more often.
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