Title & Possession
Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Kreacher (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Roommates, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sentient Magical Houses (Harry Potter), Sexual Tension, Fights, Sexual Identity, Pining Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is Obsessed with Harry Potter, Harry Potter Doesn’t Understand Why Malfoy Won’t Wear Anything But Pants, Slow Build, First Time, Banter, H/D Wireless 2023, Flirty Draco Malfoy, long game, Slow Burn, Coming Out, Seduction, Dirty Talk, Dirty Dancing, Smoking, Drinking, Clubbing, Harry and Ginny’s relationship is in the toilet
Summary:
Harry Potter’s life is going well in the aftermath of the war.
Sure, his house is dark and run-down and might hate him (while his house elf definitely hates him). But other than that, things are good.
Except, yeah, okay, Hermione and Ron are no longer on speaking terms. Worse, they keep trying to get Harry to pick sides. But otherwise, Harry couldn’t be happier.
Well. Except for the fact that Ginny is being super weird about their relationship and never wants to have sex or talk about the future. But other than that, Harry is perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch.
At least, he is until Draco Malfoy sues him for ownership of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Then Harry really isn’t fine at all.
Song Prompt: Misery Loves Company by Asking Alexandria
(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*⁺˚. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆
Excerpt:
After, they were back at it, and Potter was dancing so close Draco was dizzy with it. He had his hands in Draco’s back pockets, his nose at Draco’s neck. “You always smell so good. But up close like this? Fucking hell.”
“You do, too,” Draco managed, his voice unsteady. He was so off his game. He was incapable of thinking clearly with Potter’s hands on him. “I like - I like the way your hoodies smell.”
”You’ve smelled my hoodies?” Draco opened his mouth, horrified, but Potter simply laughed. “I looked in your shower and sniffed your shampoo once. I was tempted to use it, so I’d smell a little like you, but I didn’t.” Draco couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Potter straightened, looking at him again. His fingertips found their way to Draco’s mouth. “Your lips are so pretty. I love the way the top one goes into this sharp dip here.”
Draco kissed his finger, unable to stop himself. He wanted, he wanted, and he was so bad at doing the right thing.
Potter stopped and stared, and then he lunged.
His mouth was hot against Draco’s, and every bit as soft as Draco had imagined. Draco dragged him closer, his senses too full, full of pounding bass and the taste of Potter, the feel of Potter’s body pressed all along his, Potter’s hip bones under his hands, Potter’s prickly stubble scraping his chin and cheeks.
“I want you,” Potter said after long moments of heady snogging. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Potter, you’re drunk.” He said it with zero conviction.
“Don’t care,” Potter said, coming back to kiss him. “Take me home. I want you to show me. I want you to show me how it could be.”
Potter’s hands were sliding down the back of his jeans now, gripping the bare skin of his arse. He groaned and pressed his cock against Potter’s. He was so bloody hard, had been for the last hour at least.
“Jesus, Draco. When you told me what it was like,” Potter whispered in his ear. “Being fucked. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I want you to show me.”
“Sweet Salazar,” Draco murmured, and then he stopped and thought about what Potter just said.
Potter wanted to experiment. That’s what this was. He wanted to try this on now, while he and the Weaslette weren’t together. It was probably his one chance, because she’d take him back soon enough. Surely, she would, unless she really was a fucking idiot.
If they did this, it would be earth-shattering, ruinous, incredible. And then Potter would return to his actual life, his sweet little girlfriend, and Draco would be tossed aside like trash. “No,” he said, pushing Potter off. “No, you’re drunk. You don’t want this. You’re drunk and heartbroken and—”
“I’m not that drunk!” Potter’s eyes were full of fire. “I know what I’m doing. I know what I want.” He came closer, nipped at Draco’s lower lip, slid his hands up Draco’s shirt, skimming over his ribs.
