Revelations of Love - Moment by Moment Book #3 (Harry Potter, Drarry)

Every Action has an Opposite and Equal Reaction

Harry had absolutely no doubts about what he was doing until the door closed behind him and he laid eyes on Draco. The blond man was curled up, statuesque against the head of an ordinary looking hospital bed. His stillness belied the want in the demonised wizard, and Harry met gazes with a savage as the door closed behind him. Draco's pyjama top was torn, hanging half off his body; his hair fell madly over his face. Yet it was the sheer ferocity in his eyes which told Harry that he may have exaggerated his own power. His instincts churned as the young man tried to find something to say. He fought the impulse which told him to run into his lover's embrace and surrender, and, moving slowly into the room, spoke as calmly as he could, "Draco, it's time to let Godi go."

Draco didn't move, didn't speak, but Harry was told in no uncertain terms what his partner thought of that idea: Harry made it only as far as the centre of the room before a demand ten times as strong as those he had felt outside the wards daggered right through him. The uncontrolled lust ripped out from every pleasure centre in his body at once, ecstasy and agony mixed into one. Helplessly, the young man collapsed to his knees, his cry echoing the heady mess of sensation.

The sound died to nothing as Harry leant on his hands and tried not to curl into the ball that his overwhelmed experience told him to. He trembled, weak and disoriented by what he had to classify as an attack. The door rattled behind him, but no-one came in. Harry lifted his head to look upon his dominator, afraid, but needing him all at the same time. Draco's stare was cast on the entrance, his eyes narrowed and angry, but his attention slipped confidently back to his victim as he realised he was being watched. He smiled. Harry's resolve melted as he was seduced by the handsome features all over again. Nothing else mattered, he wanted the warm touch, the enlivening intimacy, and he would give anything for it.

Slowly, Draco uncurled, a cat with his mouse, sure in his own hypnotic abilities. Harry's groin throbbed without the need for another call as his thoughts focused on the promise in his lover's eyes. He knelt back onto his heels as his need stalked over to him, and his wand slipped from out of his hand unnoticed once more. The slave looked up at his master, hunger in his gaze and accepted a benevolent hand that slipped behind his head. He followed the guide which stretched his torso up against Draco's poised body. In adoration, he rubbed his palms against his dominator's thighs and was allowed to rest his cheek on the firm stomach.

A loud banging on glass came from behind him, annoying his infatuated world, and with a frown, Harry moved to glare at the disturbance. However, he halted, a painful catch in his throat as fingers wound viciously into his hair and tipped his face upwards. Draco's glare was again narrowed behind his prey, but the thumping stopped as his frown became a grin of triumph. There was a message being sent between his subjugator and -- Harry couldn't remember who, and he didn't really care. His body was singing as Draco finally looked down on him, and he parted his lips willingly as a mouth was bent to his own.

The hammering started again, and rattling and someone was yelling, but all the sounds were far away and didn't really matter to Harry as the seductive power wrapped him in pleasure. He reached up to his lover's head and shoulders, steadying himself as his neck strained at the awkward angle. This is what he had been wanting since the first sense of loss, and for a few seconds, Harry surrendered to it, willing to give anything that was desired. Yet the noisy distraction continued, and even Draco's overwhelming kiss could not block it out completely.

Harry could hear his name, he recognised the desperate voice which called it, even as he tried to deny that Ron Weasley could have any impact on his current world. The promises he had made, the consequences of yielding, all came creeping back to the young man despite any efforts he made to keep them away, and the kiss did not seem quite so rewarding anymore: his neck hurt; Draco's fingers were pulling mercilessly at his scalp. Gradually, Harry began to resist.