Falling Away With You - Bloodsport
von Resimesdra
Bloodsport
I am so terribly sorry for making you all wait such a long time, but I assure you the last months have not been very pretty for me, and when the stressful parts were over I just had to take a time off. Thank you all for being so patient and understanding; I hope the oncoming chapters will make it worth your while! :-*
Beta: Anthimaeria. Thank you so much; I owe you more than one! ;)
Love and sex is not a game
A game is something you can win
Maybe sometime kind of fun –
But love is just a bloodsport
(Sneaker Pimps, “Bloodsport”)
---
To say that Draco was aroused would be the understatement of the century. He found himself lying on his back, way beyond the state of mere excitement, his boxers shoved down between his knees, and Harry was sitting on his thighs, looking down at him with a look of appraisal and amazement. His own dick was obviously trying to drill a hole in his pyjama trousers, but Harry didn’t seem to care – he only had eyes for Draco.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and Draco felt his cheeks reddening with joy and embarrassment. As much as he liked looking at Harry with his adorably messy hair and his delightfully big cock standing out proudly – at the moment he’d have preferred darkness. He wasn’t used to being looked at, and certainly not like that, and even though it was rather thrilling it was also quite frightening.
But then Harry trailed the fingers of his right hand over the swollen flesh of his groin, and Draco forgot about being ashamed and shy. The world ceased to exist and the only things left were the pleasure and heat and completion in the touch of Harry’s hand. Draco closed his eyes and let out a low growl that served to further encourage Harry.
“God, your cock is gorgeous,” Harry breathed as he closed his fist around it, stroking gently. “It feels absolutely perfect in my hand.”
Draco couldn’t vocalise his heartfelt assent to this statement; he was too turned on to speak. Harry’s hand was doing the most amazing things to him and he doubted he’d be able to last longer than a few more seconds anyway.
“Look at me,” Harry pleaded and Draco struggled to open his heavy lidded eyes, only to find Harry had pushed his trousers down and was now fondling himself with his left hand, simultaneously stroking Draco’s prick. “See that? I’m so hard for you, Draco; it feels like I’m going to burst.”
Draco groaned out loud, feeling his climax drawing closer with frightening speed. His thighs tensed and his toes curled and his bottom lip was mashed between his teeth as he waited for the explosion to come… and then Draco woke with a start, realising his heart was doing a rapid two-step in his chest while he was frotting his painfully hard erection against the fabric of the sheets with abandon.
He froze mid-hump, terrified of what he’d been doing and how fucking embarrassing that was yet again. God!
Draco turned around a little, careful to not make the bed wobble, and peered over his shoulder, anxious to see whether – by any chance – Harry was not yet awake and had mercifully slept throughout Draco’s degrading moment of pure lustfulness.
But Harry was not only not asleep – Harry wasn’t there at all.
Draco rolled over, staring at the very vacant space next to him. Hmmm. He trailed his fingers over the soft pillow, where exactly three randomly placed black hairs told the tale of Harry’s head having lain here during the night.
Draco was miffed. Not only did such discovery spoil his long-time notion of him being a very light sleeper that could be woken by a mouse’s sneeze (he had been rather proud of that one, thank you!) – it also ruined a fantasy harboured since he’d started thinking of such things, namely that one of the best things about being in love with someone was getting to wake up next to the person you were in love with.
Why that was such a big deal, Draco had no idea – but since everyone appeared to be so crazy about it, he figured there had to be some secret that only true lovers knew about. A secret which, thanks to Harry’s early departure, Draco had yet to discover.
Just as he was about to follow this trail of thought, he heard steps in front of the door, followed by the noise of someone trying to one-handedly open said door. Before Draco had come to a conclusion about whether or not he should get up and put his still rather prominent erection in danger of revelation by helping Harry with the door, Harry managed on his own, stumbling into the room with a tray carefully balanced in his hands.
Draco’s eyes widened in delight as a promising smell filled the air. “You made breakfast!”
Harry smiled, nodding. “Yeah. It’s nothing special, though, just eggs and cereal, toast and yoghurt. Oh, and tea of course. I would have gone to fetch something nobler at the take-away around the corner – but…”
“But what?” Draco asked, even though he couldn’t find any fault with the food offered. It had been such a long time since anybody had served him breakfast in bed, and he was too thrilled about that alone to really care whether he ate cereals or croissants. He picked a raisin out of the bowl and looked at Harry expectantly.
Harry blushed the faintest shade of pink. “Dunno,” he murmured, handing Draco a plate with scrambled eggs. “First, I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long. And second – no, that’s just stupid.”
“Tell me anyway,” Draco pleaded, putting some egg into his mouth. “I won’t think it’s silly, I promise.”
Harry looked up, amused. “There’s no way you can promise something like that in advance,” he said.
Draco shrugged. “I am a man of many talents,” he said mysteriously.
Harry cocked his head in thought, then looked away. “I… I might have been afraid you wouldn’t be here anymore when I returned.”
Draco frowned. “Why would I ever leave without a healthy, nourishing breakfast, I’m asking you?”
Harry shrugged. “I… Some blokes do that, you know.”
Draco swallowed at the fresh reminder that while Harry was Draco’s first, the situation wasn’t the same vice versa. There had been other men in Harry’s bed where Draco was now lying, there had been other men that Harry had prepared breakfast for, there had been other men Harry had been with!
And while Draco was well aware it didn’t make any sense to think that way, while he knew perfectly well it was absolutely pointless to mourn over the fact that Harry had had a (sex) life before they had met again – it still hurt.
He wanted to know whether there had been another bloke Harry had felt strongly for – he hadn’t explicitly mentioned someone, but it was just stupid to assume that he hadn’t had a boyfriend in all that time, or wasn’t it?
And that one statement before… wouldn’t that mean that Harry had cared greatly for someone that had left him like this?
On the other hand, why would Harry care so much for someone he obviously knew so little that they parted ways like this; said bloke stealing out of the bedroom while Harry was getting breakfast for both of them?
Draco wanted so badly to ask Harry about all that, but then again – perhaps it was better if he didn’t know the details. He had a rather possessive streak after all, Draco thought, remembering how he’d felt when Harry had started dating Cho Chang back in their fifth year. Merlin, how he’d hated that little slut! He gladly would have hexed her to lose all her pretty hair and sprout acne all over her stupid face, anything to make Harry turn away from her. It had been then, actually, that Draco’s suspicion about his sexuality – and all things Potter – had really been confirmed, making this year even more of a living hell for him than it would have been anyway, what with his father getting arrested and Voldemort stretching his greedy claws at Draco.
If nothing else, Draco thought, moodily putting another piece of scrambled egg into his mouth, all the frustration had caused his rather persistent erection to wilt. Thankfully. He needed the loo and he didn’t fancy standing up, walking around with a hard-on visible from Wales (“I wish,” Draco mused. “Merlin, I wish!”), thank you very much. And especially not now, when he was feeling somewhat angry at Harry – even though he fully well knew it wasn’t Harry’s fault.
He had said he didn’t want Harry to lie to him – and he didn’t. But there were still things he would have preferred unsaid.
Was it stupid to feel that way? Hypocritical? Probably. But what could he do about it? He had waited for this for such a long time, how could he not feel jealous?
“Draco, is everything alright?” Harry asked, piercing Draco’s thoughts with that damnable perceptiveness he seemed to have acquired recently. “You look like you want to take someone’s head off, preferably mine, and I don’t think I like that. What did I do?”
Draco shrugged, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “Nothing.”
Harry shook his head. “I know I didn’t do anything. My question is what did I do that makes you feel I did something?”
Draco frowned. “Do you always have to be so awfully insightful? That‘s bloody scary, you know?”
“You’re not mad because I mentioned ‘other blokes’, are you?”
“Of course I’m not!” Draco spat. “Why would I be? That would be just ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
“Actually, yes, since there’s nothing to be mad over. But you are anyway, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“You can’t take a no for a yes, dickhead!” Draco was poking furiously around his plate, not feeling like eating anymore. “That’s not how it works!”
Harry sighed. “Draco, I won’t pretend I lived in a bubble over the last years, because I didn’t. You know that. I went to the clubs, I had sex with guys and, sometimes, girls; fuck, I even had some short-lived relationships. I told you before that nothing of this meant anything to me, and you promised it wouldn’t be a problem for you, so what the hell is wrong?”
Draco shrugged again, defensively. He still didn’t look at Harry. “I can’t help it, okay? Just let it be, I’ll get over it.”
“That’s not how it works either,” Harry said. “If there’s something we need to talk about, then we should do so, okay? If there’s something bothering you…”
“It’s not that, Harry!” Draco interrupted, somewhat annoyed. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this, alright? There is nothing to talk about. You had a life before me, and so did I, and we’ll both just need to get used to the fact that there were things we did and people we knew without getting overwhelmed by irrational jealousy each time any aspect of the other’s former life comes up.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts, Harry.” Draco looked up, attempting a faint smile. “Look, let’s just… let’s just eat breakfast in peace, and then we’ll do something fun, okay? Let’s not argue on our very first day, please?”
Harry smiled at him apologetically. “Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“’s okay. Those eggs are pretty damn good, Harry. What’s your secret?”
Harry grinned and let himself be carried away in a harmless conversation about how to cook the perfect egg, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that he hadn’t seen the end of this.
---
“Well,“ Draco said, his eyes scanning the room. “This is intense.”
“Do you mean intense in a good or a bad way?” Harry asked, handing Draco the drink he’d just fetched from the bar.
“I mean intense in an intense way,” Draco said, accepting his drink and gratefully taking a sip. “Oh my God, that’s practically liquid sugar! What’s that?”
“That’s a strawberry colada. I sort of figured you liked sweet sugary cocktails.” Harry shrugged. “If you don’t like it, you can give it to me - we can get you something else.”
Draco shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine.” He took another sip. “If I keep drinking at this speed, I’ll be smashed within half an hour. You’ll have to carry me home and help me take my clothes off.”
Harry wriggled his eyebrows. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”
Draco laughed. “So you’re trying to get me drunk to sneak your way into my virginal pants? Mr Potter, I am truly astounded by your capability of elaborating such deviant plans.”
“So am I,” a light voice said from behind Draco. “I always thought you were one to take the obvious route.”
Draco very nearly choked on his cocktail, turning around just in time to see a very handsome young man staring at Harry over Draco’s shoulder with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Then the intruder passed by Draco, casually brushing his hand over Draco’s leg as he did so, and positioned himself next to Harry, and not without pushing up on his toes to press a quick kiss to Harry’s mouth. He was now (due to an additional spurt of growth on Harry’s behalf) even smaller than Harry was, by at least a couple of inches, but his white blond hair was spiky and served to make him appear a bit taller. He was wearing tight leather trousers, clinging to his narrow ass like a second skin, riding low on his hips and revealing sharply-cut hip bones.
“Hey Harry,” he practically purred. “Haven’t seen you around for a while. Been busy?”
“Yeah, sort of,” Harry said, eyes flickering from the new boy to Draco and back. He seemed decidedly uneasy. “Ehm… Shane, this is Draco, my boyfriend. Draco, this is Shane, my…”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Shane finished, giving Draco a curious and somewhat challenging look.
“I don’t know whether you could call it that,” Harry said, tossing Draco a quick, insecure glance. “We were only dating for what, like one week?”
“Nine days, actually,” Shane said, grinning. “I counted. You were my longest relationship up to date, Harry. I was even sort of sad when you told me you didn’t believe in boyfriends anymore.”
“I did? I don’t remember saying any such thing,” Harry protested, light panic colouring his voice.
“Oh, but you did,” Shane said, smiling at Draco angelically. “So, how long have you two guys been together?”
“Two days,” Draco said, somewhat tonelessly. He was clinging to his glass for dear life, gnawing at the straw like it was a chewing gum.
“Oh, I see,” Shane chirped, emphasising “see” in a way that made the hair on Draco’s neck stand up. “Lover boy’s got a few more days before getting dumped because sex with the same person can get so tiring after a while.” He smirked at Draco, then looked back up at Harry. “Give me a call when you’re through with him. I haven’t had a stud like you in half an eternity.”
With that, he took a swift sip from Harry’s beer, then disappeared into the crowd like a model on a catwalk. Harry and Draco both stared after those swinging narrow hips, then Harry shook his head, blinking. “Fuck me,” he said with true astonishment. ”What a little bitch! I don’t believe I used to date that one!”
Draco said nothing; he merely sucked at his straw, feeling confused and hurt and sulky all at the same time.
“Draco?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Are you okay?”
Draco let go of his straw and looked at Harry, faking nonchalance. “Do I have reason not to be?”
Harry shrugged, feeling seemed somewhat helpless. “I don’t know. Perhaps… I thought that maybe… the thing with Shane…”
Draco tried his best not to flinch at the words. “What’s with him? He’s just your ex, isn’t he? Should I be worried?”
Harry stared at him. “No! Gods, no, there’s nothing between him and me; I haven’t seen him in ages!”
“Good,” Draco said calmly. “In that case I guess I can risk going to the loo, knowing that you’ll still be here once I get back?”
Harry appeared confused. “Yeah, of course. But-”
Draco shook his head to silence him. “Could you hold my drink?”
Harry obediently took the half-finished glass (Draco had made short work of it; that had to be said) and watched his tipsy boyfriend making his way through the crowd, a sinking feeling in his chest. Damn.
He’d thought going to a gay club together would be a good idea, seeing how Draco had never been to one before, but right now he started wondering whether it wouldn’t have been much wiser to just treat him to a fancy dinner… or go to the zoo… or do anything that didn’t involve Harry’s former acquaintances coming up to them and making inappropriate remarks about their relationship. Though Harry couldn’t deny he felt oddly flattered by Shane’s statement about him being such a stud – and who could blame him for that?
Harry shook his head, stealing a sip from Draco’s drink. Boy, that was sugary, sickeningly sweet, even. Shane… when had he last seen him? It must have been… no, Harry really didn’t remember. Their relationship, if one actually wanted to call it that, had been a joke. They had only gotten together because of an acute fit of loneliness on Harry’s side in the first place, and while Shane really was handsome and a total rocket in bed (Harry had never met such a forceful bottom before or after), he soon managed to annoy the hell out of him. Their break-up – again, if you wanted to call it that – had had nothing to do with sex, even though Shane had clearly taken it that way. Everything about Shane was about sex, actually, which was one of the reasons Harry had broken up with him.
If Harry recalled correctly, Shane had always been a nasty little bitch and a drama queen on top of it – but he’d forgotten exactly how bitchy he could be.
Anyway. He sighed, taking another sip from Draco’s cocktail. He didn’t like coladas, they were entirely too sweet and creamy for his taste – but somehow the drink consoled him over Draco’s absence. Which, of course, was totally stupid, since Draco was merely using the loo and would be back in a sec… but still.
He looked at his watch. Hmm. Ten minutes, already. Should he go after him, check whether he was alright? But no, that would seem somewhat stalkerish, wouldn’t it? Like he didn’t trust Draco, which wasn’t the case. No. He’d just wait here until he returned. Just like he’d promised.
---
Draco stood in the restroom, staring at the mirror unseeingly. What was with him? Why was he feeling that way, as though someone was sitting on his chest, hindering him to breathe?
Harry had said he and Shane were over, hell, Shane had said so himself, the little bint! There was no reason whatsoever for Draco to feel so… betrayed. Inexplicably jealous. Okay, so that Shane guy was sexy as hell, and self-confident, and a remarkable personality and obviously very experienced when it came to sex, and perhaps Harry could have been a little more insistent for him to bugger off… but… but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, right?
Harry just happened to have a bunch of attractive ex-lovers that didn’t mind coming back for more, and Draco would have to play along.
After all, it wasn’t like Harry had seemed very interested in Shane just now, or had he? But then again, what self-respecting homosexual wouldn’t be interested in him? Hell, even Draco had to admit he was hot, and Shane wasn’t even his type.
That just sucked! How would he ever stand a chance against such competition?
And what if Shane had told the truth? Was Harry really only after sex, was that all he wanted, even from Draco? No… Draco didn’t believe that. Why would Harry have gone through so much trouble to get him back if he was only interested in a shag? It didn’t make sense.
On the other hand… Harry did care a great deal about sex, that wasn’t a secret. Even if he didn’t intend to do so – what would guarantee he wouldn’t lose interest in Draco once he’d slept with him?
That was pretty fucked, actually, and quite literally too. What was he supposed to do now? He wanted to have sex with Harry, he really did, but what if Harry dropped him afterwards? Draco knew he wouldn’t be able to live through that, if it really happened; he’d already put too much feeling into the whole thing to stomach yet another rejection. But what to do?
Should he make them both wait until he could be sure Harry truly loved him enough to keep him after the novelty of their relationship had worn out, after he’d gotten what he wanted? But how would Draco know when the time was right? And wouldn’t Harry be pissed if Draco played prude, would he just go and get it elsewhere, like, for example, with a certain blond whore that practically threw himself at Harry…?
Harry’d said he’d wait until Draco was ready, but who could tell whether he’d keep his promise?
Damn.
Damn that Shane and his big, stupid mouth, pushing him into so much thinking! Draco’s fist clenched almost painfully. It had all been so good ‘til now, he’d really felt comfortable with Harry, fuck, he’d started to actually trust him… and now this!
Draco unclenched his hands and leaned in, as though he was trying to look through his eyes, as though the answer to all his questions lay there, hidden behind his irises. He stared at his reflection until he felt dizzy; wondering how so little could amount to so much, how such a few words could send him into a fit of insecurity, and make all his carefully built self-confidence collapse like a house of cards.
Was he really that weak? Was he so twisted that some well-aimed words could so effectively destroy his self-esteem?
He jerked when he suddenly felt a strong hand on his arm, gripping him tightly. He looked up, right into two concerned blue eyes belonging to a brunet stranger. “Are you alright?” the young man asked. “You look all pale. Are you sick? Can I get you something?”
Draco struggled for composure, not willing to let anyone in on his misery. Bad enough someone had already noticed something was amiss. “No thanks,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’m okay, just got lost thinking.”
The man leaned against the wall next to the mirror. “So? Must have been something important if it caught you like that.”
Draco shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I don’t suppose you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you.”
Draco frowned. “I don’t think so. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Now it was the man’s turn to shrug. “Let me buy you a drink then? You look like you could use one.”
“He already has someone to buy him drinks, thank you very much for your concern!” That was Harry’s sharp voice, cutting through the fog of cigarette smoke and male sweat that was hovering in the air.
Draco perked up, a bit irritated by Harry’s stern voice. “And you,” Harry continued, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve been gone for an eternity! I was worried about you, stupid! And when I come in here looking whether you’re alright, I find you chatting up strangers!” Harry bristled.
“I wasn’t chatting up strangers!” Draco snapped. “He was talking to me, actually, and he just wanted to know whether I was okay!”
Harry snorted. “Yeah, sure! Because we gay men are so awfully concerned about everybody around us! Pure altruism, I bet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco spat; he too was getting angry. How dare Harry blame him for something he didn’t even do, and after the Shane-incident at that! “He merely wanted to buy me a drink! Is that a crime nowadays?”
“Yes, yes and yes!” Harry barked, drawing the attention from some by-passers to them. “You’re my boyfriend, and I don’t even know which of the words my or boyfriend I ought to emphasise more! You’re not supposed to take up on offers to shag from other men!”
“First,” Draco yelled back, “I told him no, you jerk! Second, since when does buying a drink guarantee you a sexual encounter?”
“Since gay men have started dating other gay men!”
“First, only gay men would date other men, so there’s no need to emphasize it. Second, that’s just bullshit! Ask him whether he meant anything by it, if you’re suddenly so concerned about my well-being!”
Harry wanted to clarify a) his choice of words (he had taken literature as a main subject, after all, and stylistic devise was something he meant to include in everyday life more often anyway), and b) how wrong Draco was assuming there had been no ulterior motive - but Draco’s brunet, not very surprisingly, had already hit the road, leaving the explaining for Harry alone to do.
“Draco, everybody knows that’s the way it works! Its only logic.”
Draco felt tears prickle in the corners of his eyes, but he’d be damned if Harry got to see them. “Fuck you, Harry! I didn’t know, okay? Besides, how come it’s okay for you to get chatted up by other blokes, your ex no less, but it’s such a drama when it happens to me?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I knew it! This is about Shane, isn’t it? Look, Draco… Draco!”
But Draco had already turned around and was storming out of the men’s room. The tears that had threatened to fall were now running down his cheeks, and he just couldn’t bear the thought of crying in front of Harry. God, he was such a little girl sometimes!
TBC
A.N: Yes, I know that Draco really acts like a girl in this story. But there will be some development, I promise ;) Thank you for reading!
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