create_serenity: (Mountains)
[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: Thank you to everyone who has left a comment and to everyone who is reading along in the background. Hope you're all still enjoying it!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 7: Loneliness

“What’s wrong with you, Draco?”

“Nothing.” I miss Harry.

Since when had Potter become Harry? Actually scratch that, Draco knew when he’d become Harry. It had been on Tuesday night when he’d had that dream again and he’d woken up yelling Harry’s name and thankfully coming hard enough that he’d nearly choked on his own scream.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Granger. What are you even doing here?”

“Ron sent me. He was worried. He said you’ve been sat in that seat staring at the fireplace every single time he’d been over this week. You know Harry’s not coming back till Thursday don’t you?”

“Yes. I know.”

Harry had owled him. The case he was working on had run over. It was Monday again now. Harry had already been gone seven days. Draco thought he was going a little bit insane.

“Why are you staring at the fire then?”

“No reason.”

“You are mental.” She said this as if it were a fact to be considered, not as an insult.

“Maybe.” He wasn’t even going to bother to deny it. He did feel like he was going mad. He was lonely and horny and damn it he wanted Harry back. The idea that he was bothered about Harry being here at all was enough to send him slightly insane even without even taking into account the list of stupid reasons why he missed him.

He hadn’t come properly in six days. It wasn’t the longest he had ever gone, because that had been right at the beginning of this whole thing, but it definitely the second longest time he could ever remember. Merlin, he couldn’t cope with that on top of everything else either.

“I’m fine,” he said dully, “Please go.”

To her credit Granger did turn and leave, but the fact that she’d been at all only increased the loneliness, because she wasn’t Harry and Draco wanted Harry.



Merlin he was dreaming. He was definitely dreaming. That was not Harry’s voice coming from the living room. It was only Tuesday morning. Harry wasn’t due back till Thursday.


No, he wasn’t dreaming. And that was definitely Harry.

He scrambled out of bed as he heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and he completely ignored the fact that he was hard because he’d just woken up in favour of heading for the door. He got there as it swung open and Harry entered and somehow he managed to move his body so that Harry was crowded into the wall and Draco pressed himself against him as close as he could get and canted his hips forwards, giving a breathless little moan as his cock rubbed against the cloth of his pants.

“Harry.” He ground his hips forwards again, feeling a little flutter in his chest when he felt a stirring in Harry’s crotch as well. He pushed again and this time elicited a groan of desire from the other man’s throat.

“Fuck, Draco.” Hands grasped at his shoulders and he found himself turned and pressed against the wall and this time it was Harry’s hips that were grinding into his. He pushed back, using the wall for leverage and moaned in delight as this time his cock rubbed against the now very obvious bulge in Harry’s trousers. “Merlin, Draco, what are you doing?”

Draco actually didn’t have an answer to that because Harry was pushing against him again and he seemed to have buried his nose in Draco’s neck and that was just too good an opportunity to miss. He arched his neck and only an idiot would have missed the invitation.

Contrary to what he’d previously believed Harry was no idiot. With a groan of longing he grabbed at Draco’s hips and pulled them firmly toward him so he could rub and grind against them as his mouth latched on to Draco’s pulse point and sucked hard enough to very nearly hurt. Draco let out a cry, which earned him a brief look of concern and then Harry’s lips were back on his neck again, gliding over the skin, his teeth nipping and biting and grazing over flesh that suddenly seemed to be on fire.

“More please. More. Harder, Harry.” The teeth sunk into his flesh and Draco cried out again at the painful pleasure that seemed to go straight to his hips. “Fuck, Harry I need more. Please.”

Maybe Harry was some sort of mind reader because this time he pulled away and Draco felt him working at the fastenings of his trousers even as he continued to try and grind their bodies together. It seemed to take too long for Harry to get his trousers down, but eventually he managed it and then, gloriously, their bodies met again and there was only the thin layer of Harry’s boxers and Draco pyjamas separating them. Their cocks rubbed together and this time it was Harry who let out a cry that nearly sent Draco over the edge.

“Harry, please. I need to come.” He was writhing desperately now, but Harry grabbed hold of his hips again and drove them into the wall, slamming his own body against him and starting to grind more frantically than before.

“Fuck, Draco. That’s good. You feel so good.”

Draco registered the words, but his brain had descended into mindless pleas and he could only babble, “Harder. Please, Harry. Fuck. Yes. Fuck. Harry!” before he came. He was almost certain Harry was coming to, judging by the way he jerked erratically and let out a long string of obscenities and that thought pushed him higher and further than he’d even thought it possible to go and as pleasure overwhelmed every sense he felt the blackness engulf him.



Merlin he was dreaming. He was definitely dreaming. That was not Harry’s voice right next to his ear. It was only Tuesday morning. Harry wasn’t due back till Thursday.


No, he wasn’t dreaming. And that was definitely Harry.

He opened his eyes and memory came rushing back in a flood of embarrassment. Merlin, he’d actually passed out!

“Harry?” Of course it was Harry, who else would it be? He kept his eyes closed because he really didn’t need to see the look on Harry’s face right now.

“Since when do you call me Harry anyway?”

“Since when do you call me Draco?”

“Shut up and eat your breakfast.”

That did make him open his eyes. Harry was sitting next to the bed, holding a plate of toast as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

“You are not feeding me!” Merlin, could this get anymore embarrassing?

“Seriously, Draco, after what’s just happened you’re going to be all prissy about me feeding you? Seriously?”

The plate of toast disappeared and the next moment Draco found himself being hauled into a sitting position so that he was leaning against the pillows. He eyed Harry apprehensively.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Hermione owled me yesterday. I just got it this morning so I came straight back.

“Oh.” He had to ask he supposed, it would only be polite, “What’s the matter with Granger?”

That earned him a withering look. “There’s nothing wrong with Hermione you idiot. She said you’d gone mental. More mental actually were her words. I thought I’d better come and save you from yourself.”


“Exactly, now eat your toast.”

It was offered to him so he did lean forward and take a bite, but only because it gave him the opportunity to glare at Harry better.

“You were supposed to be back Friday,” he said accusingly, once he’d swallowed.

Harry did at least look guilty about that. “I know, I’m sorry.”

An apology? Draco raised his eyebrows and took another bite of the proffered toast. He really hadn’t been expecting that.

“I told myself you’d be fine. I shouldn’t have really. I knew you wouldn’t be. I’ve known since Thursday.” He was chewing his lip now and looking so guilty that Draco scanned his memory for anything that might have happened on Thursday that would have caused Ron or even Peterson to owl Harry. He could think of nothing.

“What happened on Thursday?”

“That was the day I caved in and wanked. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m not sure how you lasted this long if I‘m honest. It was almost a relief to get the owl from Hermione,”

“You didn’t wank?”

“It seemed fair, since I was leaving you without any form of relief.”

“That’s mental, Potter.”

That earned him another shrug and a grin. He looked at him in bemusement and took another bite of the toast. He finished off the entire two slices before either of them spoke again.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said thoughtfully, “You decided not to wank because you thought it would be fairer on me, but then you caved in by Thursday because you couldn’t take it any longer, and then you still decided that it was ok to leave me another week?” There was a pause, Harry shrugged again, though it was clearly an affirmation. “You bastard, Potter.”

“I guess I deserve to be back to Potter when you put it like that.”

“I think you should get me dressed now,” he said swinging his legs out of bed and refusing to meet Potter’s eyes because really it had been a crappy thing for him to do. “And if you’ve left marks on my neck you’d better do something about them because I do not want to have to look at them.”

“Really, Draco? You jump on me the second I get back and now you’re going to act like this?”

“I don’t see the problem,” Draco said, tilting his nose in the air so he could look down on Potter, “You’re the one who should have come back earlier. Are you expecting me to be happy to see you?”

“You certainly seemed to be.” It had been more of a mumble than anything, so Draco chose not to acknowledge it.

“I managed eight days, I’m sure I can go another eight. Go back to Bulgaria if you want.”

“I’m not going back to Bulgaria, Draco!”

“Whatever, Potter, just put my socks on.”

There was a sigh and Potter did indeed put his socks on. Draco gave a little grin of triumph. If Potter wanted to torture him, well, two could play at that game.
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