November 2018



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FIC: I'm standing in the wind [Harry/Draco]

Title: I'm standing in the wind
Creator: [personal profile] digthewriter
Pairing /Character: Draco/Harry
Summary: "Your wife tells you she wants a divorce, and your first thought is of me?" Malfoy asked, sounding amused.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~2300
Warnings: Post-marriage/post-divorce get-together fic. H/D age: 44. Cursed Child has been thrown out the window.
Creator's Notes: This story was written on the 10th of June, 2017, which is also the day of "Pride Parade" in Boston. It's kind of an emotional journey, coming out myself as bisexual 6 years ago, the day I told my best friend I was in love with her, so I hope I did my characters some justice. Also thanks to [personal profile] songquake for the prompt of Modern Love - I listened to the David Bowie song while writing this, and a million thanks to [personal profile] kikimay for the prompt of "late-bloomers", to whom this fic is dedicated as a belated-birthday present. Thank you [personal profile] icicle33, for looking it over for me.

Harry was beyond nervous. "I don't know what I'm doing." He looked across the table where Malfoy sat in his pristine dark robes, looking like he owned the place.

"In what way?" Malfoy asked.

"My kids..." Harry paused for a second to gather his thoughts, "they have all these questions. They think because I'm their Dad, I have it all together. That I have all the answers."

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully.

"And, Teddy, being gay himself, is asking me far too many questions I don't have the answers to. Am I a top or a bottom? Do I have a type? Do I fancy any of his research colleagues because he can certainly set me up with someone—"

"I suppose if you were interested in any of Teddy's work colleagues, you wouldn't be here," Malfoy said coolly, and Harry immediately blushed.

Yes, he was in his forties; his children were barely teenagers anymore, and he was coming out. Of the closet. And the first thing he had done was ask Draco Malfoy out on a date. Because, certainly, when you're a Head Auror, father of three, and divorced for a year — realising you've got the hots for your former school-nemesis really puts your priorities in place.

The turbulence and turmoil was settled deep inside him; the things he didn't show anyone, were starting to get at him. Coming out at forty-four would barely consider him to be a "late bloomer," or at least, that's what he'd tell someone who was coming out in their forties, but it had to make Harry wonder—was it even worth it though?

"What if I had just stayed in the closet? Did you think about that?" he asked. "Simply a divorced, single man, who got his rocks off in the anonymous Muggle clubs?" Harry had certainly wanted to try it.

Malfoy shrugged taking a sip of his wine, and Harry's eyes immediately landed on Malfoy's lips, the way a bit of the red drops had settled there before Malfoy darted his tongue out to lick his lower lip clean. Harry nearly groaned at the sensation in the pit of his stomach. His libido had been awakened. Merlin, he wanted to be that drop of red wine.

"Modern love," Malfoy said chuckling. "There are some who follow such a path. Once you come out, it feels like you're a child in a sweets' shop, and there's a different flavour around the corner, and you must try them all..." Malfoy smiled and Harry had to wonder if that was the sort of experience Malfoy had had.

A pang of jealousy shot through him, and then slight nervousness. One, towards the men Malfoy experimented with after he came out, and two, what about the fact Harry wasn't experienced at all?

The waiter stopped by their table to take their food order, and their conversation was put on pause. When he walked away, Harry wondered if he should have continued on the conversation or changed the subject. The idea of not being enough suddenly was nerve-wracking. Still, he had to remind himself he'd asked Malfoy out, and now Malfoy was there. Not out of any obligation, but because he wanted to be.

"As you could imagine, my father wasn't keen on the idea of my coming out. He had always told me it was something I would 'get over'. Just a phase. However, it was my mother who said if I were unhappy, I am the only person who could do something about it."

"So this was something you'd always known?" Harry asked.

Malfoy chuckled again. "Yes, I suppose it is. It makes a lot of sense, really."

"What does?"

"Nothing," Malfoy said waving his hand, as if dismissing the topic. "Potter, did you ask me to dinner for me to offer counselling—"

"No. I asked you to dinner because, I know I've known too. I always had. Because of you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, almost as if he were going to confess something, and then closed it.

"My relationship with Ginny was something everyone looked up to. We worked hard at it and others were inspired by it. Our commitment was strong because of the pain and loss we both endured. Together. I woke up in the middle of the night—for years—with nightmares, in crying fits, and she was there to help me get through it. But she was also the one who told me—right before she left—she'd told me..."

Harry looked down at his drink and swirled it around in his glass.

"Told you what?" Malfoy's breath came out in a whisper, and Harry had to look up and see his reaction. His eyes were wide, almost black, and fixed on Harry's face. Harry wanted nothing more than to reach across and cup Malfoy's face, pull him in for a kiss.

"She told me she was certain I'm gay. That I never looked at other women, I never acted jealous if someone was flirting with her, and that, if she'd told me she wanted to leave five years ago, I wouldn't have put up much of a fight. I hadn't the night she told me she wanted a divorce—"

They were quiet as the food was served, and Harry got a few moments to gather his thoughts.

"When she told me she thought I was gay, my first...very first thought...was about you. You'd just come out yourself and I remembered thinking how brave you were in doing so at our age. Yes, I know, it's not that old but you have a kid, I have kids, and there's just so much..." He paused.

"Baggage," Malfoy said. "It was something I'd thought about as well."

Harry smiled at that. "And then I realised I wanted that. I wanted your baggage." He laughed. It sounded ridiculous.

"Your wife tells you she wants a divorce, and your first thought is of me?" Malfoy asked, sounding amused. There was a glint in his eye that made Harry's heart melt. Malfoy looked proud, and not in the smug way Harry knew of the Malfoy from Hogwarts but as someone who was flattered by the compliment.

"You've been my first thought—in many-a-occasions, Malfoy."



"Settle up the bill."


Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch as Malfoy raked his fingers through Harry's hair and brushed his lips against Harry's. His back was pressed against the sofa cushions in the sitting room at Malfoy's flat, his drink still in his left hand while his right hand leisurely lingered on Malfoy's back.

Harry sighed into the kiss as he parted his lips so Malfoy could slip his tongue in. No, he didn't know if he was a top or a bottom; he'd not had any idea or time to think about that, but he did know the way Malfoy kissed him was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced before. Kissing no longer felt like a chore but a treat.

Harry moaned around Malfoy's tongue, his glass almost tipping out of his hand when Malfoy reached down and grabbed Harry's wrist. He must have realised it too and probably didn't want Harry to ruin his rug.

"Is this all right with you?" Malfoy asked, once he'd taken the glass away from Harry to put it on the table, and then settled into Harry's lap.

All right? This was more than all right with Harry. This was everything he'd always desired and didn't know he'd wanted it.

Malfoy's hands were strong as they pressed into Harry's shoulders and he straddled in Harry's lap. His erection was obvious, pressing against Harry's stomach as Harry's own hard cock was aching to be released from his tight jeans.

At the beginning of the night, Harry wearing his fuckable jeans—as Luna had called them—seemed like a good idea. Now, he wished he'd settled for the loose silk trousers because at least then, he wouldn't be in so much pain.

Still, he smiled and decided not to care. He was exactly where he wanted to be. And with a man he'd probably wanted for more than twenty years—without even knowing it.

"We can take it slow, if you'd like," Malfoy said, kissing Harry's neck as Harry's hands gripped Malfoy's arse, holding him down. The slight stubble that rubbed against Harry's skin was divine. The friction on his jeans was going to make Harry come in his pants, and not much to Harry's surprise, he didn't care. Everything happening tonight was something he'd longed for, and everything that would happen, was something he'd happily accept. He was there with Malfoy, who wanted him.

And that was enough.

"No..." Harry protested. "I need to make up for lost time."

Malfoy stiffened then, and even though he was still on top of Harry, Harry could feel the distance between them.

"I...I can't do casual, Potter," he said. "I realise you're new to all of this, and if you feel the need to act a certain way. It's common for newly out adults to make up for their younger days--"

"No, Draco. You misunderstand me."

"You want experience. Make up for lost time."

Harry smiled at that. "I do, but with you. We could have been together if I'd figured things out a lot sooner in my life. If Ginny had told me she'd wanted to leave not last year, but five or ten years ago. I just got you, Draco, the only time I want to make up is with you."

Draco's eyes widened and he looked like he was about to argue once more. "Potter...I..."

"No," Harry said, his voice commanding. He grabbed Draco by the back of his neck, and secured his other hand on the small of his back, before he all but lifted Draco off him and got on top. Harry settled well in between Draco's legs, feeling like he belonged there, or at least demanding to belong there. "Just keep doing what you're doing. Kiss me, touch me, I need this."

Draco gasped into his mouth, and now, Harry had completely taken over. He slid his tongue in, pressed his groin against Draco's arse, and rocked back and forth. He absolutely loved the power rush he was getting, not only was he finally giving into his desire of wanting to be with another man, he was overpowering Draco Malfoy. The boy he loved to hate, and the man he wanted to learn to love.

The level of urgency Draco was showing was enough to push Harry over the edge. Draco's hands started to unbuckle Harry's belt and pulled down the zipper of his jeans, and then Harry took over. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles while Draco unbuttoned his own trousers.

"I want to feel you," Draco murmured against Harry's lips and kissed him again. And again. And again. All the while, they rutted against each other, pricks slick with pre-come, making the contact just that much more sweeter. Draco's hands came around to grab Harry's arse, pulling him closer, as he thrust up to get more friction, and Harry started to spill. Still, Draco didn't stop. His finger found Harry's hole and pressed the flat of one of his fingers against the entrance, and Harry moaned--the noise getting lost in Draco's mouth.

"Well, it's good to know you're not completely against being a bottom," Draco said.

"With you?" Harry laughed, grabbing Draco's erection in his hand. He hadn't come yet. "I would try everything."

"My very own late-bloomer slut," Draco said in a teasing tone, and Harry smirked. He slid down freeing himself from Draco's grasp to take Draco in his mouth. He'd never done this before, but he'd seen a bit of Muggle porn videos, and read a few books about oral sex, to get the basic idea. He figured he'd do the things he would have liked done to him. As he swirled his tongue around the head of Draco's cock, tasting a bit of himself too, Draco moaned. "Merlin, Potter..." was all the warning he received before Draco started to come, emptying himself in Harry's mouth as Harry swallowed every drop.

As Draco's soft cock slipped out of Harry's mouth, doubt began to take route in the back of his mind. Was that good? Was it good enough? Would Draco want to do it again? What if he thought Harry was utter rubbish at giving head?

Draco grabbed a lock of Harry's hair and pulled him up towards him. "Don't worry..." he whispered.

"About what?"

"Just because I came out a bit before you doesn't make me any sort of expert. I'm still very new to this situation myself."

"You seem so...confident," Harry confessed. But wasn't that just how Draco had always been? Had it always been a front?

"I once read, everyone comes out at exactly the right age: when they're ready. Honestly, I read a lot of books about coming out, but most of them talked about dealing with your parents, as they're targeted towards young people. No one talks about what it'd be like to come out when you're forty or fifty. Even if I'd been divorced longer than you, it still took me a while to be out. No one talks about coming out to your childhood crush."

"But you indicated a part of you always knew. That things made sense."

Draco chuckled as he nuzzled into Harry's hair. "Yeah...I've you to thank for that."


"Yes, Potter. I never wanted anyone the way I've wanted you."

Harry smiled and turned to kiss Draco again. "So we'll figure this out then? Together."

"Yes," said Draco, pulling Harry close. "Because I've also just got here myself."

This entry was originally posted at http://digthewriter.dreamwidth.org/491565.html. Please comment anywhere you'd like. Thanks for reading