Always

Chapter Seventeen

"Draco, stop."

The door slammed shut and a bag fell to the floor, spilling its contents of beaten scraps of scrolls and a hair sample from a rare crocodile.

"No, stop. I'm going to be l—Mphh!"

The bed squeaked as a pair of bodies fell on top of it. The sheets were still warm, attesting to how recently they had been vacated.

Trousers fell on top of a black professor's school robe discarded on the floor.

"No, no, keep going!"

"I knew you'd change your tune." Draco smiled wolfishly and pushed his entire length inside Harry. He bit down on the mouth that was now encouraging him with moans and whimpers. Harry's hands clutched at Draco's back, struggling to pull their bodies as close to each other as possible.

Harry arched his back and shoved his hips into Draco's at the same time. Draco rewarded him for the perfectly executed move with a vicious bite followed by a gentle lick to Harry's throat. Harry cried out, his body on the knife's edge of pleasure and pain. One more rough kiss and he was pushed over, falling into a state of euphoria and spilling all over himself, his lover, and their bed.

"So beautiful, Harry. So perfectly beautiful." Draco smoothed the fringe from Harry's sweaty brow while looking down at him from just a few inches. He laid a gentle kiss on Harry's panting mouth. "So beautiful," he whispered again before pulling back a bit and thrusting in hard. "And mine!" he hissed.

"Yes, yours!" Harry cried out as his body was used for his mate's pleasure. He hung onto Draco with a fierce grip, revelling in the deep grunting coming from his husband. The bed rocked, the curtains next to them trembled, and Harry loved every moment of it.

When Draco came with a deep-throated growl, Harry cried out with him and welcomed his Supero's warmth within him and his full weight on top of him.

Their body temperatures slowly cooled as their breathing returned to normal while they lay quietly together.

"I'm sticky."

Draco raised his head and Harry ignored the imprint of a duvet wrinkle impressed above Draco's right eye.

"Well, to be expected." Draco slowly peeled their bodies apart.

"And now I'm late."

"You don't have any classes first thing."

Harry also ignored the sensation of the cleaning spell Draco used. "Yes, but I have prep time and I needed to speak with Professor McGonagall about a particular student." He rose up on his elbows and watched Draco stroll across the room towards the wardrobe. "Now I'll be rushed. I'm always on time and now—"

"Exactly."

Harry frowned as he slid off of the high bed. "What? Exactly what?" He bent down to pick up his pants and refused to grin at the pleasurable pull of muscles. Instead he stood tall and gave Draco a narrow-eyed glare. "Draco, if you are eluding to something that is hush-hush then don't bother saying anything at all. It doesn't make you appear clever, you know. Just a know-it-all."

"I always appear clever, Harry. But regardless of that fact, I was quite clearly explaining to you that you always head to school at a particular time." Draco turned around with a shirt draped over his arm. "Routine, Harry. You're showing a routine."

Harry stood still for a moment and then threw the shoe in his hand at the wall.

Draco moved closer but did not try to touch him. "It's my job to—"

"Don't say it!" Harry hissed. "Don't say another word!" He glared out the window at invisible enemies. "I don't want to do this again!"

"Love—"