Happy Belated Birthday, alaana_fair!

Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: Watch This
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~2200
Status: Complete
Summary: Draco finds out that Harry's been watching porno movies. So what does he do? *points at the title* Heh.
Warnings: Smut, and nothing but.
Note: Alaana, this is more of an apology!fic than a gift!fic. Thing is I have a list of birthday fics to write and honestly, I don't know if I'll ever mange to write the third part of the Dark Veela Series (though I'll try) so you get a bit of smut now, because I don't want the girl who regularly posts such awesome pictures of naked men to get cheated out of her well-deserved porn. (Did I just write that for everyone to see? O.O)

I've used awdt's prompt — That was a pleasure to watch.

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Watch This


Harry clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. Unfortunately, he could only do that in his mind, which wasn't as gratifying as actually doing it. But that was all he could manage — envision and watch helplessly. He couldn't talk; couldn't get up from the stupid chair; and he couldn't move due to currently being in the state of absolute paralysis. Bloody hell, but did Draco exaggerate. Why bind him firmly to the chair when he had already hexed him? Well, probably Draco had bound him so Harry wouldn't topple over; he had no control over his body so that could've happened. He couldn't even shift around to try and ease the pressure on his swollen cock; nor was he allowed to hump the air, which of course wouldn't help him, but Harry really wanted to hump something and air seemed better than nothing.

This wasn't what Harry thought would happen after Draco had found his secret stash of porno movies. Draco was upset and Harry had understood that; this was a foreign concept to his boyfriend and perhaps it was logical to expect that Draco would be hurt after realising Harry liked to watch other men — Muggle men, even — having sex. He had demanded an explanation and Harry had panicked and stammered the first thing he could think of — he had claimed that he only watched them to get tips and ideas he could then use on Draco.

"Why are you keeping them around then? If you only watch to get tips, how many times exactly do you need to see one to memorise what's going on?" Draco had asked with narrowed eyes, clearly furious. "Well? You're either a liar or an idiot. Which is it?"

"Well, see, movies are ... I mean, if a movie is good then I don't mind seeing it again. I'm not ... It's not cheating, Draco. I'm just watching," Harry had said pleadingly, but Draco was far from appeased.

However, he hadn't mentioned the matter again for some time, though, of course, he had refused to have sex with Harry. But knowing Draco, Harry was well aware that he was plotting some sort of revenge.

Sure enough, two days after their argument, when Harry had arrived home, Draco had struck even before Harry properly stepped into their apartment. He had hit him with a hex that successfully immobilised him, and then dragged Harry to their bedroom where he tied him up to a chair.

So that was how Harry had ended up sitting down, bound and immobile, facing the huge bed and its solitary occupant.

The occupant that despite being solitary was very much active. Completely naked and deliciously glistening from sweat and oil he had previously, unhurriedly smeared over his pale skin, Draco lay on his back with his legs parted and bent at the knees. No movie had ever made Harry feel like this; Draco was so close but Harry couldn't touch him; it made his mouth water as his fingers itched and tingled, desperate to feel the smooth, slick skin of Draco's nude body. Getting to this point was pure torture in itself. Draco had undressed at a snail's pace; carefully unfastening each button, then folding his clothes with care before he had finally lain down on the bed as though he planned to sleep. Instead of sleeping, however, he had lazily caressed his body, and then smeared some oil anywhere he could reach, which was pretty much everywhere. And Harry was forced to watch Draco twisting on the bed beneath his own hands, listen to his exaggerated, breathy moans, and inhale the sweet scent of the oil Draco had used.

Then Draco had Conjured a bucket filled with ice cubes and he was currently moaning and writhing, and messing up the silken sheets as he dragged a single ice cube over his exposed neck and chest. He paused at his left nipple to circle the small bit of ice around the pink flesh that hardened into a rigid peak, which Harry would have very much liked to suck on. The ice left a trail of water in its wake; water that Harry would have loved to carefully remove from Draco's skin; using only his mouth and tongue of course.

Harry whimpered in his mind, watching the faint candlelight illuminate the squirming figure on the bed, the beautiful image reminding him that though he couldn't move, his blood could, and all of it rushed south, making him painfully hard though there was nothing he could do to relieve the pressure. His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth when Draco brought the ice cube to his lips, giving the fortunate thing the treatment usually reserved for Harry's cock. He swirled his tongue around it, licking and sucking on it messily, making it melt quickly, droplets of water escaping his mouth and dripping down over his chin. Draco moaned and hummed as though the ice tasted incredible; as though it wasn't just water; as though it tasted better than Harry's cock.

Draco's right hand drew lazy circles on his stomach, teasingly touching the blond, soft hair of his crotch, but avoiding the long, hard cock that lay on his stomach, leaking pearly precome over quivering muscles. Instead, Draco's slick fingers reached lower and Harry wished he could lean closer and see as Draco pushed two digits inside his hole; but he could only conclude this had happened by the way Draco's breath hitched and his thighs shuddered. But Draco was giving a show and he never did things half-way. He moved his hand away and shifted a little to the side, then raised his legs high, bending them towards his chest and exposing the smooth curve of his arse. After that little manoeuvre, Harry could clearly see Draco's fingers pressing against the furrowed flesh of Draco's arsehole before they pushed inside at a ridiculously slow pace, making Harry almost feel it and subsequently suffer through every inch of their progress. Draco reached down with his other hand, grabbing his arse cheek and spreading himself even more, letting Harry see everything while he finger-fucked himself.

Harry felt like weeping and wailing and stomping his feet. He should have been the one doing that. Even after he had watched the blasted movies, he always ended up buried balls deep inside Draco's hole; something that could never be compared to seeing a couple of strangers fuck each other.

Amazingly, Draco stopped and Harry wasn't sure whether to be thankful or indignant. Perhaps Draco would show some mercy. Harry had learned his lesson. He really had. He'd rather watch Draco anyway.

Trying to calm his rapid breathing, Draco lowered his legs, just lying peacefully for a moment, before he rose, sat on the bed and faced Harry.

Untie me! Harry screamed in his mind, but all he could do was blink and hope that Draco would recognise his blinking as the secret code for 'I'll never watch the stupid movies again, just please untie me and let me fuck you.'

However, judging by the look in Draco's eyes and the twitching of his lips, Harry concluded Draco was having too much fun to end things now. That was why he didn't even feel hopeful when Draco had reached forward with his hands, and staring right into Harry's eyes, he unzipped Harry's trousers and took out his cock. The much desired touch made Harry want to cry out in delight and relief, but of course he could do no such thing. Draco stroked him leisurely with his slick fingers, never moving his gaze away from Harry's wide-open eyes. It was wonderful; even though Harry was aware that he wouldn't be allowed to come just yet, and even though it was really strange to look at Draco like this while neither of them spoke a word and the only noise in the room were the wet sounds Draco's oiled skin produced while rubbing against Harry's cock.

Biting his lip, not from embarrassment, but obviously suppressed glee at what he was doing to Harry, Draco rose up and then placed each long leg on either side of Harry. There was oil and water and a couple of droplets of come on Draco's belly, right in front of Harry's mouth, and Harry could feel beads of sweat forming all over his body, in part because he was desperately trying to move and in part because Draco's skin radiated heat. For a second it seemed that Draco would press himself to Harry's face, but instead, he reached behind and grabbed Harry's cock, aligning it so he could sink down on it and straddle Harry's lap.

Harry wished he could at least moan when the tip of his cock was pressed against Draco's crack and dragged slowly up and down along the slickness. Then Draco's warm tightness slowly enveloped his cock, stretching around it, and gripping it firmly. Draco gasped, echoing the desperate groan that resonated in Harry's mind, but then Draco's gasps turned into soft, content humming that came deep from his throat as he lowered himself fully down, clutching Harry's shoulders for support.

He sat like that for a while, rocking back and forth, enjoying in the moment. Then he slowly rose up, wriggled and adjusted a little and sank back down, the sound and feel of that movement inflaming Harry's insides. Draco continued to move, up and down, circling his hips, making his movements slow but deep, and brilliant due to their slow-building intensity. Harry could feel and hear Draco's every move, but he couldn’t do anything except stare blankly at Draco's lips that parted each time he rose up and then puffed out some air as he sat back down.

Draco closed his eyes and sped up, fucking himself on Harry's cock and caring only about his own pleasure. And Harry could do nothing but take it; sit there and let Draco use his body as he wished. He doubted he'd be able to come in this state, though it felt so wonderful, Harry thought he might manage.

Draco was practically jumping on Harry's lap, his cock trapped between their bodies, teasingly touching Harry's stomach through his shirt. The only comfort Harry had was the beautiful image before him; Draco looked stunning, flushed and lost in his own pleasure, his blond hair falling forward on his sweaty forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing as he fought for air and tried to swallow his gasps. His chest and stomach were damp, his nipples peaked, almost straining towards Harry's mouth and yet they felt so far away since Harry could not touch them. The muscles in Draco's arms stretched and trembled, even after he had abruptly stopped moving and lowered his head, breathing heavily, tiny gasps escaping his lips.

Puzzled and worried, Harry blinked some more, willing Draco to look at him; willing him to keep moving, because maybe Harry could come like this; it almost felt like he was close.

Draco looked up after a while, but he didn't resume his movements, instead, to Harry's increasing distress, he stood up carefully, letting Harry's cock slip out of him.

Draco did not move away, however, but grinned wickedly as he wrapped his right hand around his own cock and with his left, he reached out to grab Harry's jaw, massaging it slowly, and eventually forcing his mouth open. It didn't really work all that well; Harry's lips parted only slightly, but this apparently didn't bother Draco too much. Though his grin wavered as his face scrunched up in pleasure, his hand fisted his cock furiously, stroking and squeezing and aiming.

Aiming for Harry's face. Harry spluttered inwardly and prayed that Draco would at least spare his eyes.

Draco's thighs shivered, his muscles contracting when he groaned loudly, his hand moving faster as his semen splattered into Harry's mouth, over his lips; coating his cheeks and running down his chin.

Harry breathed heavily, uncomfortable with this sticky wetness on his face that he couldn't wipe clean or lick clean, but he was so hard and aroused he thought he might burst. He could feel his body shiver involuntarily, pure need coursing through him, making him think that if he wished for it hard enough he would break the hex and the chains. Though no matter how hard he wished it, no such thing happened.

Draco finished and released his softening cock, then stumbled backwards to sit on the bed. He looked at Harry through half-open lids, his cheeks flushed, almost glowing in post-orgasmic bliss. "I bet that was a pleasure to watch," he said breathlessly.

Harry blinked. It meant yes. And Draco ought to realize that. He should know, and if he didn't, Harry was prepared to tell him. This was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and, sweet God, he had never been so hard in his life, and no movie could have ever made him feel like that. In his mind, Harry screamed all this at Draco, hoping that his boyfriend would understand it just by looking at him. Amazingly, it seemed that Draco had understood him perfectly, because he smiled, looking pleased.

"Good." Draco nodded and reached out, much to Harry's relief. But instead of reaching for his wand to release Harry from the hex and his binds, he grabbed the bucket full of ice. "Well, then ..." Draco beamed happily, and to Harry's horror, he lay back down on the bed with a handful of ice. "You won't mind seeing it again."

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Fin

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