Young (Drarry Fanfic)

Break Up Every Night

He wants to break up every night.
Don't wanna wait until he finally decides to feel it.
He wants to break up every night,
then tries to fuck me back to life.
I cannot help it if I like the way he makes me feel it.

— Break Up Every Night by The Chainsmokers

~oOo~

Harry groans, a low, guttural sound that seems to emanate from his very bones. He throws his head back, eyes slipping shut as he his hips pistons forward. He drives deep, hard, plunging right into the sweet spot he knows is there. A high, ragged noise, draws Harry's attention back to the lithe blond writhing underneath him.

"I—s that all you've got, P-potter?" He throws a glance over his shoulder; his bitten lips twisting into a taunting sneer. Even as he's already breathless, shuddering as Harry's cock nails his prostate, there's still the hard glint of blatant challenge in his iridescent, silver eyes.

Draco Malfoy is a sight to behold.

His long, pale legs, are spread impossibly wide; his delectable arse thrust high in the air. His hips are undulating nonstop; his slender arms shaking as he frenziedly meets each one of Harry's punishing strokes.

He's fucking beautiful like this.

Harry smirks; a predatory gleam in his fiery, green eyes. He bends to his task, fingers digging viciously into the blond's pale hips, holding him in place as Harry pounds into him.

He'll leave bruises, of this he's certain. He could still see the old ones from their previous trysts, just barely fading. Malfoy never heals them. Kinky bastard.

"Harder—" He's gasping now, arching his sinuous back, canting his hips higher and Harry's world fucking tilts. He's utterly lost as Malfoy's insatiable, little hole devours his thick length. Grabbing handfuls of the blond's creamy, white arse, Harry spreads it wide open and he stares, mesmerised, as his swollen cock disappears into Malfoy's tight, wet heat.

"God, Malfoy, you—" He licks his lips, breath stuttering; a heady thrum of lust surging through him. He can't get enough. Malfoy is a drug and he's addicted. He's beyond help.

"I know I'm—ah!—brilliant fuck—Merlin!—Potter—" Malfoy suddenly clenches, drawing a startled grunt from Harry. "—but there's—yes!—no need to call me God."

Raising a hand, Harry delivers a resounding slap onto the infuriating blond's arse. Malfoy whimpers, shivering. Harry knows he loves it. Malfoy enjoys a bit of pain with his pleasure.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to close himself off from the ugly reality of his situation. He just wants to lose himself in this moment and pretend that this means something more.

He's pathetic. Harry knows this, but he's helpless against it. Malfoy is both his destruction and salvation. Nobody else can save him; not even himself. It's much too late for regrets.

Harry can still clearly remember the first time they'd fucked; the memory of it branded in his mind.

It had been nothing like his young, naive mind had imagined it would be.

There was no romance.

It had been quick, rough, and dirty. And so fucking perfect.

After weeks of clandestine meetings and mutual hand jobs in dark alcoves, the tension between them had finally reached the breaking point. It was anger that had ultimately pushed them both over the edge.