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July 18th, 2011
| 12:26 am - Two's Company, Three's a Crowd (Part 2/4)
Title: Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd
Author: Kira O’Hara (![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) kiraohara)
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Draco/OMC, Harry/Draco/OMC
Word Count: 26,501
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, slash, swearing, minor scar!kink, mature sexual content.
Summary: It has been four years since the War, and Draco and Hans have been together for a little over a year now. Out of the blue, Hans suggests a threesome with a famous Muggle that he rather admires. Draco reluctantly agrees. Little did he know that it was simply the strings of fate falling into place.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Part One
He circled them to the hallway and started backing down it with a grin on his face, crooking a finger at them. He slowly turned as he walked until he faced away from them. He was back in control of things, which was good, since neither of the other two knew what they were doing. Now that they were over their initial surprise, everything should go smoothly. The way their eyes lit on and studied each other bothered him slightly, but he explained it away as the curiosity of what the evening would hold with the other in it. Harry must have just gotten over looking at Hans that way on the way to the apartment.
Hans was a little surprised to learn that Harry was a wizard. Thinking about it now, he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought differently, as he’d never seen a Muggle with eyes quite like that. Power crackled just beneath the surface, there. Hell, he’d only seen a few people amongst the Wizarding populace that had eyes quite like that. Draco and his mother – when they were angry and let their masks slip ever so slightly – were among those. He knew it was a sign of power, and was suddenly filled with all sorts of curiosity about Harry. He’d managed to get under Draco’s skin somehow – which was incredibly hard to do, if he knew anything from their interaction and the stories that Draco had told him from his childhood. He wondered who from those boyhood stories that this stranger was. After all, Draco had said that Harry Evans wasn’t his real name, which Harry had admitted. Was Harry his real name, even? He wanted to ask, but felt that there was some line drawn in the agreement between the other two that said they wouldn’t speak about names anymore.
He shook off his thoughts. There would be time to speak with Draco about it later, but right now he could not afford to be distracted. A thought sparked in him. “So, Harry, since you’re a wizard, then perhaps you will not mind a bit of magic? I’ve always preferred lubrication charms over the messy tubes and jars of the stuff, myself.”
A slight blush colored Harry’s cheeks, as it often did during the awkward questions of a new lover. “I don’t think I’ll mind, no,” he replied quietly. “I’ve, um, actually not been with many wizards, admittedly. Mostly Muggles.” From the uncomfortable tone of his voice, Draco wondered if any of his previous lovers had been wizards and he just didn’t want to confess to such. “I mean, I know a lubrication spell, certainly. I’m fairly certain that at some point all young wizards learn one or another.” He grinned and chuckled at this, eyes flashing with amusement. “Other than that, though… I’m also fairly certain there’s other spells some people use during sex, but I’ve not encountered them as of yet. I would, ah, very much appreciate it if you would warn me before using one. I…tend to not react very well to foreign magic.” Hans, facing away from him, agreed with a laugh. Draco, pacing level with him, saw the tightness at the corners of his smile. ‘Tend to not react very well’ indeed. I wonder how far through the wall he’d likely end up sending one of us.
Finally turning into the bedroom, Hans strode up the length of the bed to empty his pockets on the nightstand. Draco stepped in front of Harry with a smirk and entered the room next, lightly swaggering over to the far corner of the bottom of the bed and leaning against the post. Rolling his eyes at Draco’s antics, Harry walked in and lingered nervously near the door, his eyes flicking between the two. He just barely suppressed the urge to bite his lip and dig his toes into the carpet. The room was nice, as he’d expected. A large bed that looked incredibly comfortable (especially after the hotels he’d been staying in; sometimes it sucked not being able to just Apparate from home) dominated most of the room, though there was a squashy armchair as well as the usual bedroom necessities. It looked as if the lights could be turned up to a normal brightness, but right now they were pleasantly dimmed.
He sincerely hated this part, though he’d never been as awkward before. At least, the first time he’d entered a lover’s bedroom before, he usually had some idea of what his place was. Whether it was a relationship or one of the very few one-night-stands he’d had, it had usually been established by the time he was there what role he should take and he could certainly improvise from there (he’d certainly never had any complaints on that). But now… They were the ones in the relationship, and he was outside of that. They knew how each other would move, and he knew nothing. It would only be him trying to figure out what they would and wouldn’t like, since they already knew each other. It would only be him stumbling blindly. There was no foreplay or heated kissing or verbal teasing. There was little to nothing to give him any cue for what he should do. His nerves were already shot, what with it being a threesome and then – of all people – Draco Malfoy being another willing participant in it… It was only with a lifetime of practice with awkward situations that kept him from hyperventilating and dashing out right then. He had said he would do this, so he would. He’d just have to laugh his way through any mistakes and carefully shield any insecurity he felt, like he’d done in so many other situations.
Draco tried to seem as casual as he could while he leaned against the bedpost. His mind was frantically trying to figure out just how he’d let himself get into this situation. He was here now, though, and he might as well make the best of it. He simply refused to be outdone, and so attempted to catch Hans’s eye hoping for some sort of cue. The fact that Potter had never done this either was heartening, though he wouldn’t tell the git that. He’d had a few fumbled relationships and a fair share of short-term lovers during his schooldays and travels – though he knew he was nowhere near as experienced as Hans – and he knew he was good. He had no idea what Potter’s - Harry’s, he corrected himself – level of experience was, but somehow knew that he likely wouldn’t be terrible; it had used to irk him that Potter couldn’t be terrible at anything if he tried (except perhaps the use of a comb), but for right now it served Draco well.
Hans, completely oblivious and at ease, turned back around to smile at Harry. “Do come in, we won’t bite. Well, unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he teased with a grin and a chuckle. He could almost feel both of them trying not to roll their eyes at him. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard Draco quietly knock his forehead against the bedpost. Blithely, he moved on. “So, you’ve never had a threesome before? Ah, no worries, my friend,” he said at the sheepish look Harry shot him. “For starters, do you normally have a preference for top or bottom?”
Harry absently chewed his lip in thought. “Well, not particularly. I suppose I’m somewhat fond of being in control, but like everyone I enjoy a little pampering too. I do, however, usually end up topping.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation at pretty much the whole of his ex-lovers. “So I probably have a mite more experience there. …Yourself?” he asked almost shyly, his head ducked a little so his gaze was directed through his lashes. Draco raised an eyebrow at that, not expecting shyness from Potter as much as haphazard posturing.
“Sounds like you and Draco are on about the same level in that regard. Myself?” He leaned back against the nightstand casually. “I have a, ah, fair amount of experience as both. I do prefer topping,” he smirked when he felt Draco’s glare burning a hole in the side of his head, “but Draco here has given me a new, mmm, appreciation for bottoming.” He shot his lover a lecherous grin. Draco rolled his eyes.
“Well, it seems as if you’ve already answered for me,” he drawled with an obviously feigned look of one displeased. Secretly, he was glad he wouldn’t have to put it into words himself. It wasn’t exactly that he truly preferred topping – either was fine for him with a competent lover – it was just a complicated matter of trust, pride, and the fact that his long, slim torso and limbs had sometimes made it a bit awkward when he’d bottomed in the past.
He took a moment to study Harry’s build unobtrusively (even if he likely wouldn’t have been ridiculed for looking over a man he was at some point planning to sleep with). He’d been tall and lanky as a teenager, but it looked as if he’d finally grown into some of his height. The black jeans he was wearing were tight around his hips, but baggy around his legs and pooled slightly at his white-socked feet. The effect was probably very nice when he was wearing those heavy, black boots that Draco had caught a glimpse of in the entrance hall, but now it actually made him look rather…adorable. Rolling his mental eyes at the silly sentiment – Potter? adorable? – he continued his perusal. His shirt was long-sleeved and dark green, looking like it was made of a soft cotton material, with an intricate black design of a bird accented with gold in swirling lines across his chest. It was nicely fitted – not tight, but enough so that it would pull attractively over his form when he moved. It seemed like either Potter had finally found a sense of fashion or someone had dressed him; Draco would have found the latter more likely, but knew better now than to ever assume anything about one Harry Potter. The most surprising parts of his attire were the twin piercings in his lower lip, which Draco remembered were referred to as ‘snakebites’ with a flash of amusement. Potter must know the joke there; he had never been quite that daft. There were also a few additional hoops in his ears and a small cuff on the cartilage of both. Draco could see a gold ring decorating his right ring finger, but couldn’t see it well. He spun the Malfoy signet ring on his own finger as he pondered it.
Potter - Harry, he reminded himself again – had definitely grown up, and seemed to be only slightly broader than Draco himself. …Well, it would likely make positioning not all that awkward, he decided. He glanced back at Hans and knew from his grin that he’d been caught conducting his appraisal. He managed to refrain from scowling back, but only just barely.
Having allowed the other two to get more accustomed to being in the bedroom – he silently wondered if they really thought they were hiding their tension well – Hans grinned and edged backward onto the bed, beckoning to the other two once he was situated against the pillows and headboard. “Now then, no one ever said we’d have to stay in one position all night? Perhaps we’ll all get a, ah, chance.” He let his gaze trail up and down Harry’s form as the man tentatively crawled onto the bottom corner of the bed closest to him. He then turned and winked at Draco, who had already slid around the post in a fluid manner to slip onto the bed and was sitting on his knees nearby.
Hans reached forward with both hands. The right he used to grab one of Harry’s hands to slowly pull him closer. The left he hooked around the back of Draco’s neck to pull him into a kiss. Draco had always delighted in how good of a kisser that Hans was, and Hans knew it was a good way to make him relax as well as excite him. After a few moments, they pulled back slightly and grinned at one another. At a slight flick of Hans’s eyes, they both turned those grins on Harry.
Harry was promptly given the impression of being sized up by two very hungry predators who had just encountered a delicious meal, but masked his unease by raising an amused eyebrow at them.
Draco angled a smirk back at Hans and raised an appraising eyebrow, then glanced back over to Harry. Drawing their eyes up and down Harry’s form, they began to converse with one another. “Well, go on then,” Hans urged.
“Oh, so you weren’t going to demand dibs?” Draco teased back.
“Well, you did know him first,” was the conciliatory reply.
“Ah, but you, darling, are the little fanboy, aren’t you?”
“All the hotter I’ll get watching the two of you,” Hans practically growled back, making Draco laugh lightly.
“Well, if you insist then.” Leaning back more from Hans, Draco reached out and twisted his fingers into a handful of the front of Harry’s shirt and tugged him forward. “Come here, you.”
Harry grinned at him then, the shyness and nervousness slowly melting away as he was presented with something he was more familiar with. He slowly gave in to the pull on his shirtfront, leaning over Hans’s legs and in towards Draco. He had to put a hand down to ensure he kept his balance, but didn’t think much of it when it came down on Hans’s thigh. Draco was leaning forward a little too, but they stopped a scant few centimeters away from one another. They tilted their heads ever so slightly back and forth, feinting towards one another as if to close the distance, soft smiles on both of their faces. They bumped their noses together softly as they got the feel of one another’s movements. Somehow it felt important to make this first kiss good.
Slowly, their lips came together and apart a few times, breaking away teasingly each time. Their mouths were parted slightly, not so much kissing as brushing against one another. With a matching set of grins, the brushes grew a little sharper, as if they were aiming to bite each other’s lips instead. Finally, Harry pushed his lips forward just a little more to completely catch Draco’s, sealing their mouths together. Opening up a little farther, each ventured forward a tentative tongue, slipping past teeth and brushing against each other. Harry made a quiet sound of satisfaction that Draco felt more than heard and tilted his head a bit more to the right. Draco followed suit, refusing to be outdone, and the tentative exploration ceased with the kiss’s deepening.
Their tongues thrust into one another’s mouths, coming together to battle slightly before returning to mapping all the little areas they could find that would make one of them inhale a bit sharper. Harry grinned into the kiss as he favored a more sensitive spot, which caused Draco to moan softly and tangle the fingers of one hand in the hair on the back of Harry’s head, pulling him closer. Draco – more dazed than he’d like to admit – had been treated to another surprise in the form of the metal rod through Harry’s tongue, and tried to twist his tongue around it when Harry made it scrape teasingly along the roof of his mouth.
After a few more moments, they slowly broke apart, feinting once again – though now with open, grinning mouths, as if promising kisses and then denying them. With one last bump of Harry’s nose against Draco’s, they sat back, smiling at each other and panting softly.
“Dear Merlin, that was hot.”
Hard-learned practice was all that kept Draco from jumping out of his skin when Hans spoke. It had somehow slipped his mind that the other man was sitting there watching them, and he suddenly felt slightly self-conscious. Judging from the way Harry’s eyes were cast to the side and his sheepish laugh, Draco was almost certain he wasn’t the only one in quite that situation.
Hans apparently wasn’t cognizant of their memory lapse, since Harry’s hand had unconsciously gripped at his thigh and his own hand was rubbing the visible bulge in his tight blue jeans. Harry chuckled softly and raised his eyebrows at Draco, motioning over to a glaze-eyed Hans with his eyes, making Draco smirk in return. They both leaned in toward him. Draco began trailing his nose and lips across Hans’s cheek and down his neck, breathing hotly and fluttering half-kisses in his wake. Harry leaned forward to nip at Hans’s lips slightly, demanding the entrance he was easily granted.
Draco chose not to think about the pang of jealously that shot through him upon seeing that – especially when it occurred to him that he wasn’t jealous of whom he should be jealous of. There was a small bloom of satisfaction that Harry didn’t take his time figuring out how Hans would want to be kissed, instead pushing in and dominating the kiss, but he explained it away as his own love of special treatment.
Hans was whimpering softly from the pleasurable sensations caused by both men. Harry and Draco had both gotten the idea to undo Hans’s shirt and – though there was a chuckle or two as their hands fumbled over each other – they somehow managed to concert Harry’s right hand with Draco’s left to undo all of the buttons without its wearer noticing. They had begun alternating who was kissing Hans and who was attached to either side of his neck, and he was simply too far gone in bliss. Harry laved his tongue up the side of Hans’s jaw as they tugged the tight, white shirt off of his shoulders to expose his chest. Their hands slid over the exposed skin and occasionally one of their mouths would drop lower to nibble at his collarbone.
They were both pretty sure that Hans was completely out of his mind at the moment, knowing quite well what they were doing. His hands had struggled free from the shirtsleeves at some point, and now he wrapped them in fistfuls of blond and black hair. Harry, unconsciously attempting to expedite the activities, dipped a bit lower and captured a nipple with his teeth. Hans gasped, but yanked them both back insistently. Draco was a little confused, and Harry’s eyebrows drew together in worry. Before he could ask if he’d done something wrong, Hans breathlessly addressed them. “W-wait, I-I want to see you.” His voice dipped into a rougher timbre as he said, “Both of you.”
Slowly, they both pulled back and sat on their haunches, eyes flicking between Hans and each other. It was rather obvious that Hans probably didn’t have the ability to take the initiative at that moment. Grinning, Harry decided that maybe it was his turn to get a fistful of shirt.
Reaching over, he gathered up a bit of the delightfully soft material and began tugging it out of Draco’s trousers. Honestly, he normally might have not minded leaving it on so he could rub his own skin against it, but he wasn’t about to stop. And maybe he was more than a bit curious about what lay beneath. Smirking at him, Draco began unbuttoning it so it could be removed. Hans shuddered and recovered enough to splay his hand across the exposed portion of Draco’s upper chest, rubbing gently. Draco paused then to undo the buttons on his cuffs, a small voice in his head cursing at himself for picking a shirt that required so much effort to remove.
As soon as Draco’s wrists were free, neither of the others waited for him to finish the buttons shielding his lower torso and dragged it up over his head. Harry tossed the shirt to the side and off the bed, something Draco absently noticed he would have been more than miffed at Hans for doing. The almost urgent tugging of Harry’s deft fingers at his belt and the hungry gaze that was trained on him seemed to make it unimportant.
Finally getting the clasp free on Draco’s belt and sliding it out of the loops (tossing that to the side too), Harry reverently trailed his fingers up Draco’s chest. Hans had taken over the annoying trouser fastenings, leaving him free to explore. Softly, he traced his fingers in a small berth around Draco’s nipples – and the gold hoops piercing them. Draco couldn’t completely bite back a soft moan, urging Harry’s dancing fingers to touch by pushing his chest forward a little. Harry smirked slightly back into Draco’s half-lidded eyes right before flipping one of the rings up, catching it as it fell back down and tugging gently. A groan issued forth from Draco, followed by a gasp and a twitch of his hips as Hans’s wrist knocked against his trapped erection while attempting to remove his trousers. Harry, clearly fascinated, pinched the other nipple slightly while using another finger to pull the ring back a little. Draco cried out then, and quickly acquiesced to Hans maneuvering him to remove his trousers completely – much more readily than he normally would have.
He hadn’t worn any undergarments, partially in anticipation of the night’s activities and partially because he wasn’t sure what kind to wear – silk boxers? tight briefs? – to be appropriate for their bedroom’s addition. Hans grinned at him in amusement, not entirely knowing the whys but liking it all the same. Harry made his tongue ring click against his teeth with unspoken promise, and Draco’s breath caught.
He could feel Hans’s breath fanning out over his stomach and thighs now, his fingertips just barely making contact with his cock as they roamed the same areas. He had begun panting at some point, not realizing it until Harry leaned forward to latch his mouth onto the crook between his shoulder and neck, his teeth gently worrying at the flesh there. A slight ‘ngh’ sound issued from his throat, but he managed to gather enough of his wits back to gently push at Harry’s chest until he moved back. Harry seemed to be just as sorry about having to release his neck as Draco was to push him away. Especially if he thought about what Harry might have done with that tongue ring if he’d inched just a bit lower… He stopped that train of thought before he gave in and dragged him back. “N-not fair. You’re still f-fully clothed,” he managed to breath out.
Harry smiled at him and leaned back, the shirt pulling across his chest to hint at the delicious toning underneath it. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to help me with that, won’t you?” Draco silently cursed the steadiness of Potter’s – Harry’s – voice, but was slightly mollified by the glazed heat in the eyes that swept over his nude form. At that point, it was only Hans’s hands on Draco’s thighs that kept him from crawling over to straddle Harry’s lap and snog him into senselessness.
Managing to shoo the not-exactly-offending appendages away enough by pushing lightly on Hans’s shoulder to move him back, he refocused both of their attention on Harry. From the way he leaned back on his hands, he seemed relaxed, but it also removed that illusion by clearly displaying the bulge tightening his trousers. The tilted angle to his head and the steady – though heated – and taunting look in his eyes said that he knew very well just how hot he looked right then. With a growl, Draco lunged forward toward Harry and once again pulled him closer by his shirtfront.
He bit Harry sharply on the neck, earning him a rough chuckle. Grabbing the hem of the shirt, he tugged it up forcefully, running his other hand up Harry’s stomach as he continued pushing the material up his torso. Harry lifted his arms obediently and finished pulling it off, chucking it in the same direction as Draco’s discarded clothing. Draco ran his hands down Harry’s raised arms and then down his sides. Pulling back to get a better look at what the shirt had hidden, he found that Harry’s torso was not quite what he expected.
Certainly he was thin – though no longer skinny – and rather well toned for his lean build, but there were two surprises. The first things he noticed were the tattoos. There was an Ouroboros circling his right bicep, and the tip of another tattoo peeked a little above his waistline near his left hip. From what could be seen, it looked almost like the top of a shield-crest. Draco raised an eyebrow and ran his finger over the serpent, snatching it back when he felt a small crackle of power underneath it. He could feel Harry’s gaze on him, daring him to ask just what he’d been up to and just what spell was contained in the obviously Wizarding tattoo. But Draco was all too aware of another presence in the room, who was uncharacteristically quiet. He couldn’t ask now. Or ever. I doubt I will get this sort of chance again. The second surprise consisted of the myriad of scars – both small and large – that littered Harry’s torso. From how some of them twisted, he was certain that the haphazard patterning extended past his waist and around his back.
Curious as to the silence radiating from his lover, he turned to favor Hans with a puzzled expression. Hans, however, was simply eying Harry’s chest with a slightly troubled look on his face. Why had he stopped participating? Harry quirked his head to the side and was about to ask what was wrong when Hans shook himself and carefully ran his hand up one of Harry’s arms. Draco stared at him oddly, still clueless as to what had disrupted his fervor, and wondered further when he saw comprehension dawn across Harry’s features.
“You don’t need to avoid them. I haven’t hidden them for years.” His voice was gentle, but Hans still flinched, shooting him an apologetic look. “It’s okay if they make you uncomfortable. …You won’t have been the only one.” Harry smiled at him reassuringly – but Draco didn’t miss the tightness to that smile, or the tinge of sadness coloring his voice. He silently scoffed at the fact that Potter was probably being daft and thinking that people didn’t find him attractive once all the scars were bared, or some such nonsense.
With a start – and from the way Harry’s words seemed to have affected Hans – Draco was struck with the fact that some people might actually not find the scars attractive. He knew his fascination with them was somewhat traceable to his younger years of studying Dark Arts and Potions, both of which gave him a hearty respect for someone who literally bore the scars of their labor and experience. They were marks of survival through the harshest of circumstances, and were to be honored and revered as such. The only reason he’d teased Harry about the scar on his forehead when they were younger was because it got a reaction out of him – and, he could admit now, because he was jealous of the attention he’d received because of it.
In an effort to show Harry just what he thought of the scars, he reached out and softly trailed his nails down Harry’s chest, though not hard enough to scratch. He followed random patterns through, around, and across the scars, not stopping save to change direction. Harry shivered and gasped, shocked eyes locking on Draco’s intent gaze.
Hans, quietly and with a little discomfort, ventured, “I thought scars reduced sensitivity…? They’re just dead patches…” Harry shook his head weakly, seeming to be a bit more shaken now with small tremors erupting under his skin. Draco could feel them through his fingers and a small smile curled the corner of his mouth.
“That’s only p-partially true.” Draco smirked in triumph at finally disrupting Harry’s speech. “It does deaden skin a bit – with normal scars. Some of them are – ah! – like that. Some, however, are the result of magic, which makes it possible for the sensitivity to have e-either remained the same – or increased. S-since I heal somewhat rapidly from m-my own magic and it was at times c-combined with others’ healing spells, the magic sh-shifted the spectrum a little. Some of them – a-actually, most of them – the edges right next to the scar patch are…somewhat oversensi-TIVE!” Harry had to gasp the last syllable, as Draco had figured out the ending of the babbling sentence a little early and sought to test the theory – by way of scraping his nails hard along the edge of a larger one.
Harry’s back arched into the touch a bit, and then he once again focused shocked eyes on Draco. The rest of his expression was indiscernible. Draco smiled at him – a small smile, but a real one – and leaned forward to trace another edge with the tip of his tongue. Harry managed to make a sound partway between a moan and a whimper, his eyes threatening to flutter closed. They would have if they had not been glued to Draco’s, wholly unable to look away.
When Draco pulled slowly away, he saw indecision flash briefly in Harry’s eyes. Before he could think too much on it, let alone ask, Harry’s hand had tentatively reached out and gently brushed his chest. It took him a moment to realize that Harry was now staring at the three long scars that decorated Draco’s own chest, his expression indiscernible again.
Draco hadn’t really thought too hard about it before when Hans had pretty much ignored the three large – though pale and faded – scars across his mid-chest. He’d either keep to the skin above or below that area, or focus on his nipples. It wasn’t until Harry’s fingers connected with his skin to trace the uppermost one that he realized that he had wanted that.
He had always been proud of his appearance, though there was a period of a couple years that the scars had been a personal embarrassment despite his respect for them on others. To him, they had represented a moment of weakness when he’d let his guard down because he was upset. During his travels, he’d come to terms with the fact that it had been the wizard powerful enough to defeat the Dark Lord that had cast the curse in the first place, and he was lucky to have survived it. They were his personal scars of battle, now.
With a shudder, he let his eyes flicker closed for a moment, basking in the reverence with which Harry’s fingers traveled. When he finished with the uppermost, he traced the middle one, and then finally the lowest. Draco knew that, should he open his eyes, he’d find a tinge of regret in Harry’s for just how he had gotten those scars. He probably still thought Draco blamed him for them, even as he traced the now-cherished imperfections with a fair amount of muted awe. It appeared that Harry had been quite confident enough with his shirt on, but was significantly more vulnerable without it. Draco realized, as he opened his eyes and saw the soft, guarded expression on Harry’s face and the puzzled expression on Hans’s, that he probably would have gotten defensive if Hans had tried to initiate the same contact.
The small, absent-minded comparisons were starting to form a niggling sort of worry at the back of Draco’s mind. He resolutely tamped down on it, saving the pondering of it for later. It didn’t have to matter right now.
What did matter, however, was bringing back the heat that had been raging before, which had quieted to a slow simmer.
Catching Harry’s hand as it was about to retreat, Draco pressed it down over the scars with his own, smiling softly at him. “I thought we were undressing you now.”
“Well, not my fault you got distracted,” he quipped back with a small grin, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly where they lay. Draco scowled at him, which only made Harry’s grin widen and twitch with suppressed laughter.
“Well then, perhaps it would be good to get back on task,” Draco bit back out, causing Harry to snort through his chuckles. At Draco’s tone, Hans seemed to shake himself out of whatever cloud of thought that had been plaguing him.
“Perhaps it would,” Harry agreed, snatching back his hand quickly before Draco decided to take vengeance upon it for his cheek.
Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead moved so he was sitting on his knees. Hooking a finger in the waistband of Harry’s trousers, he tugged at them. “Up, you. These are coming off now.”
Harry laughed, but complied with the order, rising to his knees so that his trousers could be unfastened and – along with his simple cotton boxers – shimmied down his hips and upper legs. Draco noted that he wasn’t as hard as he had been a few minutes prior, but the gentle twitching showed that he would be soon. Harry adjusted his position so he could finish removing the clothing from his legs, tugging his socks off while he was at it. He had delightfully muscled legs, and Draco was fairly certain that the slowly hardening flesh between them was of an equally delightful size.
Draco had to bite his tongue hard not to burst out laughing when he spied what the smaller tattoo was of. It was the Hogwarts crest, complete with the Latin motto. Sentimental Gryffindork, he thought in amusement.
As Harry straightened, facing the other two, his eyes flicked between them nervously again. He and Draco were both completely naked now, and Hans had stopped them from doing anything further to him so he could ‘see’ them. He wasn’t quite certain what to do now. He likely should not try to start anything with Draco without Hans, but he wasn’t sure how much of an eyeful Hans wanted before he could be properly disrobed. Or what exactly to do after that.
Hans, promptly ignoring his reservations about Harry’s scars (though it surprised him that Draco seemed to enjoy them more than mind them), realized when he was needed to direct things along. Both of the other two looked a little anxious and once again nervous, though Draco also looked oddly amused. While he often liked to fawn over Draco a bit, he didn’t think either of their nerves could take that delay. And, while he still found Harry extremely attractive on the whole, the scars did unnerve him a bit too much for focused attention. He knew it was rather superficially shallow, but everyone was to some extent. The fact that Harry didn’t blame him for it and Draco seemed only more aroused by them rankled at him a little, but he could ignore that for now in favor of more pleasant thoughts.
Qualifying his reactions to himself, he decided his focus would be on Harry first. He grinned lecherously at the two of them again, sliding his eyes back and forth between them, as if thinking. Reaching out, he cupped a hand around both of their necks, pulling them closer a little. Turning a little more toward Draco, he leaned forward and quietly said, “I think I’d like to have you inside me.” Then, turning his full attention to Harry, he leaned forward to whisper against his lips, “And I want to be in you.” The shudder that passed over Harry was definitely pleasing, but not nearly as much as the eager hand that blindly ran up his thigh towards the fastenings on this jeans.
Draco leaned in toward Hans’s neck, nibbling before asking, “Just how are we going to do this, darling?” His own hand was sneaking up to aid in the removal of Hans’s trousers, and he let out a chuckle when it encountered Harry’s.
Hans frowned slightly at the endearment. Draco usually only called him darling when he was teasing him – or sarcastically when they were fighting. It was usually only during moments of passion that he would call him ‘love,’ which was what Hans was more expecting at the moment. He didn’t know what to think of it right now. But there were hands rubbing at him and urging him to move in some way that facilitated the removal of his last article of clothing, and he thought it was probably best to just not think right now.
He leaned back on his hands and lifted his hips, allowing the tight jeans to be tugged down and off, gathering his white socks in the pant-legs as they went down. Harry looked nervous still, and Hans started to maneuver himself to where he would need to be, realizing he hadn’t answered Draco’s question yet. “Harry, probably on your back against the pillows. Draco, behind me would likely be best. It’s the easiest way to do this, I think, and probably the best bet with the two of you being so new at this.” He grinned at them both, receiving another sheepish blush from Harry and a scowl from Draco – which put him more at ease, since they were acting as he expected again.
Harry crawled his way up to the pillows and turned toward Hans. He very tentatively laid back, but only spread his legs partway. He had his arms wrapped around himself and a flush staining his cheeks. He could feel the insecurity rising up. Perhaps Hans didn’t find him attractive anymore. Would he ask him to leave? Was he just continuing on because he had said he would…or out of pity? Biting down hard on the inside of his lip, Harry scolded himself. He hadn’t felt so self-conscious in a long time, so it was hard to push away, but he did. He forced his arms away and smiled up at Hans, who’d had his attention on Draco. He didn’t notice that Draco’s attention had been on him, and started when he felt a hand stroke reassuringly at the shin resting behind Hans’s turned back. He was blushing again with a small smile on his face when Hans turned back to him.
“Now then… There are a couple of spells I’d like to use. Of course a lubrication charm, but also one that will aid the muscles in relaxing and a cleaning charm modified for, ah, exactly our purpose.” He grinned down at Harry, who nodded silently. Grabbing his wand off the nightstand, he first cast the spell to help with the muscles. He still liked stretching manually, but Harry was tense enough that he would likely need it. Next came the cleansing spell, which caused him to laugh softly at the screwed up look on Harry’s face. That one wasn’t entirely pleasant, but he was rather certain neither of them wanted any surprises. Coating his fingers in the lubricant, as well as pouring a little bit over Harry and himself, he reached down and began tracing the puckered flesh.
Harry only tensed for a moment before forcing himself to relax. It was fine, he was okay, though he wasn’t really used to his first time with someone having him as the bottom. But it was okay – more than okay, now that a careful finger had slipped inside of him and was stroking gently – and Hans was leaning over to kiss him. He spread his legs a little wider to allow the other man better access, and wrapped his hands in his hair to keep their lips sealed. He felt Hans gasp against his mouth, his arm shuddering, and figured that Draco must have begun preparing him as well. Now that it was starting, this actually seemed somewhat thrilling – and then Hans added another finger and he told his brain to stop trying to think.
Hans broke their mouths apart to lean his head on Harry’s shoulder, angling himself even better to receive Draco’s wonderfully non-gentle fingers. He gasped and shuddered, but still managed to remember to keep moving his fingers in Harry, adding a third finger as well. A few more moments was all he could take of it though, with Draco knowing exactly where to push to force a response from him. “Enough!” he cried hoarsely. “Now. Please.” He cleared his throat to help force the guttural sound from it. He needed to keep his accent subdued for now and not start gibbering in German, as he might need to give further instruction.
Draco situated himself first, moving close to Hans and slowly sliding himself in. He bit his lip hard, but couldn’t quite stifle the satisfied groan that bubbled forth. It was with long practice that he knew to keep his hips still for now, until he felt Hans move back. He was definitely a bit rougher than Hans, but was considerate where necessary. He felt Hans’s hand come around to grip his hip to keep him sheathed, but then he was moving forward and – oh. Harry’s gasps reached Draco’s ears and he grinned at knowing that Hans was trying to push in as slowly as humanly possible. It had driven him mad before, and snickered when he peeked over Hans’s shoulder and saw an expression quite like that on Harry’s face. In the guise of ‘helping’ – though really just making it even worse for Harry’s impatience – he gently grabbed the knees situated around him and Hans and pressed them back. Harry cried out and Draco shivered, feeling Hans slip forward a little further.
It was somewhat awkward acquiring a rhythm until Draco let Harry’s legs fall again in favor of grabbing Hans’s hips. Hans had been wavering between pushing back against Draco’s thrusts and thrusting into Harry himself. With his legs free, Harry managed to dig his heels into the bed and thrust back upwards in time with Draco. It caused Hans to gasp, and they managed to exchange smirks over his shoulder before setting up an identical rhythm.
Hans was in heaven. He knew Draco was a quick study, but it pleased him ever so much that Harry was as well. He eventually gave up on trying to thrust, bracing himself on his hands and knees against the sensations and screwing his eyes shut. It had been so long since he’d done this sort of thing and he’d forgotten just how very good it could feel. Too good, in fact, as he felt himself peaking under Draco’s expert aim at his prostate. Wrenching his eyes open again only to see Harry undulating gracefully under him, he knew he needed to get his bearings back – which he wouldn’t be able to do like this. “Ah, s-stop!” he managed to cry out, feeling Harry freeze immediately under him (as if he could possibly have hurt Hans from underneath him?) and Draco slowly slide to a halt.
“Wh-what’s wrong?” Draco puffed out against his back, just barely managing to keep from plunging in again.
“Ah, a-as wonderful as this is, I th-think we need to switch. You kn-know me too well. I…wouldn’t have lasted another five minutes. Hell, a minute, even, between the two of you,” he panted, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder to catch his breath. He could feel the indecision from the other two and chuckled. “Switch around, love. Let’s get you under me instead.”
Draco let out a soft whine and leaned forward to bite Hans’s shoulder. Hans simply chuckled back at him, ignoring his frustration. He carefully slipped out of Harry, and had to stifle a snicker when it took him a few moments to steady his legs enough to get up. Harry managed to crawl out from under him to behind him, and Draco slid gracefully into his place. “Well, hurry up, then,” Draco grouched at him half-heartedly.
Hans shook his head and laughed. He knew Draco didn’t honestly think his heightened state of arousal would somehow make him forget to be gentle, but the bugger would still hope. He would acquiesce to starting with two fingers to speed things along, but he was going to go slow. Except he forgot an important detail. When he’d gotten the tips of the fingers inside just enough, Harry chose to slide quickly into his already stretched hole. He had gasped and inadvertently shoved the rest of his fingers in. Draco cried out in pleasure, then relaxed back to the bed with a Cheshire grin on his face, obviously pleased with the turn of events. Hans half-heartedly glared back at Harry, who was grinning smugly and rocked forward once to wipe the glare off his face. Scowling down at Draco again, he sighed and shook his head in good humor. The brats were working against him now, apparently. Just for that, he took his time making sure that Draco was completely stretched before deigning to enter him, and would push back every time Harry tried to pull out for a thrust.
When the other two were both properly frustrated, Hans grabbed Harry’s hip to keep him sheathed while he finally slid into Draco. It took much less time for them to figure out a rhythm this time, though Harry’s movements were not as attuned to Hans as Draco’s had been. Harry was a very forceful lover, and Hans reveled it in for a moment. Draco was too, which he liked, but there was somehow more strength behind Harry’s thrusts, which pushed him harder against Draco. He’d managed to locate Hans’s prostate and began hitting it maybe every third thrust. Hans was thankful that he didn’t have quite Draco’s accuracy, because combined with the muffled whimpers and soft cries issuing from underneath him, he was getting close again. Part of him wasn’t sure if they were simply that talented or if he was just out of practice, since he almost never got riled up this quickly.
When his limbs began to shake, he knew he had to stop them again. There was a growl from behind him and a whine of protest from underneath him, but they complied. He was somewhat glad that Harry had caught on that it wasn’t because he’d done something wrong, though that growl had made it even harder to hold back.
“What now?” Draco demanded, his hips twitching with the wish to move again. Harry had leaned forward and captured Hans’s earlobe, tugging insistently on the gold hoop there in an attempt to get him to let them start again.
“I…I think someone else needs to…to be the center.” He had to choose his words carefully, as the first words that came to mind were the German ones. Draco knew German, but Harry might not and…something told him that it might be frustrating, but his brain wasn’t functioning at an optimal level, so he just figured he would try to keep speaking English. “I, ah, think I n-need to lie back.”
Harry drew out of him with a hiss, and Draco whimpered and tried to clench around Hans as he withdrew. Groaning, he shooed Draco and took his place, flopping thankfully against the pillows and sprawling his still shaking limbs. His palms were pressed to his eyes while he attempted to regain control of his breathing, so he didn’t notice Harry and Draco sizing each other up.
With a grin, Draco stalked behind Harry as best as he could while crawling. Harry followed him with his eyes only, but Draco could see the muscles tensing in his back. Rising to his knees and pressing up against Harry with an arm around his waist, Draco spoke quietly in his ear. “Scared, Potter?”
Some of the tension drained as Harry chuckled softly. Turning his head so he could catch Draco’s eyes, he murmured back, “You wish.” They smirked at each other and could feel a chuckle pass between their bodies.
Hans was recovered enough to begin again and flinched slightly when he opened his eyes and saw the look being exchanged between the other two. He cleared his throat softly, and both heads snapped back to him and grinned. He wasn’t sure he liked the small blush staining either of their cheeks, but he put that thought to rest. He knew better than to think that he was neglected if he wasn’t given every scrap of attention during a threesome. Of course they would pay some attention to each other, too.
Harry decided to try a slightly different tactic than Hans had and hoped it would work. He grabbed a few pillows and had Hans lift up so he could wedge them under his hips. He could have a bit more control over the thrusting than Hans that way, which he preferred. Hans might have been fine with letting Draco and Harry do most of the work, but Harry was very bad at just sitting back and not acting. Even as a bottom, he’d get frustrated when expected to remain entirely passive. Plus, it would make it easier to get at Hans’s prostate from this angle, which caused him to grin wolfishly down at the man as he slid in.
Draco ran his nails down Harry’s back, grinning as they caught the edges of the scars there too. Harry shuddered and cried out softly, his torso pitching forward a little, which caused him to slide slightly out of Hans. Draco took the opportunity to press into Harry, groaning softly into the back of his neck as the tight heat surrounded him. Harry hissed slightly, having tightened up a bit again with nothing inside him to keep him stretched. After a moment, Harry pulled away from Draco to slide into Hans, and then back again. Draco tried to time his thrust to catch Harry while he was sheathed, and was both smug and startled at the loud gasp that accompanied it.
“N-not at the s-same time. F-feels w-weird. Not bad, just weird, and not really good either,” Harry babbled at them, his body wracked with shudders. Draco pulled him around the waist to come back with him, biting along his neck and shoulder until the shaking stopped.
“You okay now?” he asked and nuzzled the side of Harry’s head.
“Y-yeah. I’m good. S-sorry, just surp-prised me.” He sighed softly, then took hold of Hans’s hips and drove forward. Hans, who had been puzzling over the tenderness that Draco had shown Harry, cried out sharply, the moment forgotten.
Harry set a brutal pace, and Draco quickly accustomed himself to it, slamming forward on every one of Harry’s backstrokes. Harry’s fingers were digging into Hans’s hips a little harder than he preferred, but the man could barely gather the breath to moan, let alone say anything, so just kept his hands gripped on Harry’s forearms. Harry growled out for him to touch himself, and Hans more than readily complied, stroking himself quickly.
The rhythm slowed just slightly as one of Harry’s hands let go of Hans’s hip. Hans managed to roll his eyes back from the back of his head, wondering why, and caught his breath at the sight before him. Draco and Harry were both upright on their knees, their hips crashing together in perfect rhythm, even as Harry’s hips slammed into Hans when they parted. Their heads were turned toward one another, their lips sealed in a fervent kiss. Harry’s hand had reached up to tangle in Draco’s hair, keeping him close even as they broke apart to pant every couple seconds. Hans knew it was the look in their eyes when they pulled back slightly and the look on their faces when their lips met again that sent him over the edge.
With a shout, Hans came – to probably the most erotic image he’d witnessed in all of his twenty-four years. Yes, the amazing sex had brought him close, and his hand closer, but that image…
The other two broke apart suddenly, blinking the lust from their eyes as they slowed to a stop and studied the thick globs of white splattered across Hans’s chest. Harry’s hand removed itself from Draco’s hair, but only to loop backwards around his neck. Hans could only stare and blink up at them for a moment, catching his breath.
He hadn’t expected to come first. The other two had less experience than he, and he had prided himself on his stamina in years past. But it had happened, and it was slowly dawning on him that the other two didn’t seem overly disappointed about it – or smug. They just watched him evenly, Harry’s arm wrapped around Draco’s neck, and Draco’s arms encircling his waist and rubbing his hips and stomach gently. Their eyes were still clouded with heat, and their breath was coming in pants. Draco’s hips flexed just slightly back and forth in time with his breathing. Hans especially didn’t want to allow it now, but he knew there would be no real justification for him to deny them to continue. He had come, and they hadn’t yet.
He laughed and let a shaky smile spread on his face, making a joke before pulling off of Harry and sitting up. He got grins for his joke, and they both seemed to buy it that his shakiness was simply the after-shudders of his orgasm. Draco looked puzzled and asked him where he was going when he started to back away to the edge of the bed. He managed to pull a grin. “I get to watch now.” Let them think he meant it in a perverse manner. He needed to figure out the little things he’d been catching and brushing off too often since the moment Draco had heard Harry’s name. Maybe watching them would help.
Part Three
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| Date: | July 19th, 2013 02:49 pm (UTC) |
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