Violets (A Drarry FanFiction - Roses are Red, Violets are Blue Part 2)

Chapter Twelve

   Harry shuddered, his breathing slowing down as he hugged Draco into his side. As the aftershocks stopped raking through his body, he cleaned their mess with a flick of his wand before discarding it again, leaving them dry and snug as he slowly ran his fingers in circles on Draco's back.

He was sure the novelty would wear off eventually, but having convinced himself this would never happened again, he felt like he was currently floating on a cloud of euphoria, two feet above the rumpled bed sheets. "You're perfect," he murmured into blond hair.

Draco chuckled and shook his head into Harry's neck, but didn't say anything to contradict him. Instead, he began languorous kisses along Harry's collar bone, trailing up his neck to find his mouth. "You tired?" he asked.

His tone made Harry pull away and look him in the eye. "No," he said, excitement flurrying through him.

"Well," said Draco hesitantly but with a hint of determination. "You packed such a nice bag, it would be a shame not to put some of it to use..."

One wrong look from Harry would shatter this, he knew. So he didn't say anything to begin with, he just shifted a little so he was more under Draco, back flush with the bed and the duvet they were still on top of, and looked up at him. "I'm yours," he said softly. "I'll do anything you want."

That made Draco's eyes dilate, breath hitching. He leant over the side of the bed to rummage in the bag's front compartment, pulling out Harry's fluffy handcuffs that had started out as a joke present from Seamus Finnigan, but had actually been put to good use more times than his Irish friend would ever care to find out.

Again, without a word, Harry just kept Draco's eye contact, shuffled his shoulders down a little against the pillows, and raised his hands above his head, crossed at the wrists.

If Draco had ever played around with cuffs before, it hadn't been with Harry. But at seeing his willingness he seemed eager to keep going, transfiguring the regular headboard of the bed into wooden slats, giving him something to loop the short chain around as he clipped the ends around Harry's waiting wrists.

"Violets?" he checked.

Harry felt a spike of panic as the restraints went on, but at Draco reaffirming the safe word he felt the calm settle on his chest before he'd even really had a chance to register it. "Violets," he said with a little nod. He knew what they were doing, he was fine.

There was a welcome basket of home comforts courtesy of the hotel on the cabinet nearest to them, wrapped in cellophane and until now complete ignored by both men. But Draco flicked his wand again and the packaging came undone, letting him pluck something nestled between the bath robes and slippers. A grey and black, soft looking, sleep mask. "How about now?"

Harry was almost surprised he was not only not bothered at the idea of being blindfolded, it actually made his heart skip a little beat. Well, he wanted to prove he trusted Draco, and he guessed that the idea of closing his eyes (not exactly uncommon during sex) was okay to him.

So Harry allowed half a smile to creep up on his lips, and closed his eyes voluntarily. "Surprise me," he said, delighted at how much he meant that.

The next thing he felt was his glasses slowly, but gently, being slid off his face. Then Draco hooked the eye mask over his head and positioned it with care so it sat comfortably. "Okay?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

A swift kiss landed on his lips. There was a pause, and then it came back again, more invasive, parting his mouth with a sturdy tongue. Even this had Harry's heart racing with the added sensation of limited movement and sight. He really was Draco's right then, having almost no control over his own self.