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edenfallingYou know, I really need to get my own website one of these days, if only so I can put up definitive versions of my stories. I'm a compulsive editor, see, so even after I've posted something on one site, I tend to tweak it subtly before putting it up somewhere else. So this version of PTT is ever-so-slightly different from the version going up on FA (a changed word here and there, for clarity or a shift of emphasis).
The changes usually aren't drastic enough to justify resubmitting an entire story to someone else's website, but I'd like to have the 'good' versions all together somewhere.
Anyway. On to the fic!
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Paint the Town, part 4
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"Okay, Hermione, let's get you to bed," muttered Ginny, manhandling her friend out of the main room. "Now, where do you keep your nightdresses?"
Ginny looked around Hermione's bedroom, noting the pile of discarded bras by the dresser and the work robes left crumpled on the floor for once, instead of neatly hung in the closet. She leaned Hermione against the bed and pulled their wands out of her hair, letting it spill down to tickle her shoulders.
"Leviosa. That's it, good Hermione, there's a good floating body, move onto that bed..." Hermione drifted over the bed, fast asleep in the middle of the air. Ginny pulled back the covers, smiling at the pastel butterfly print on the sheets. Sweet whimsy from Hermione -- who would have guessed?
The nightdress, a sensible shift of light blue cotton, was hanging on the back of the closet door. Ginny grabbed it and studied Hermione, still holding the levitation charm. How to get her out of her clothes and into the nightdress without waking her? If she woke up half naked with Ginny in the room, she'd either die of embarrassment or restart that 'Woe is me, come make love to me Ginny' kick she'd been on.
There was nothing wrong with Hermione liking girls, and Ginny was even a bit flattered that she seemed to be the focus of Hermione's fancy -- it was embarrassing, yes, but it would be even more humiliating if Hermione liked girls and hadn't noticed Ginny. But all that aside, she had her limits. She absolutely wasn't going to do anything while Hermione was shit-faced drunk, no matter what Hermione wanted. That would be wrong. And she wasn't going to say anything tomorrow either, not until she'd had a chance to think over the implications with a clear head. All the implications.
Then maybe they'd talk about it, if Hermione hadn't decided to treat the whole thing as an alcohol-induced hallucination.
Ginny dropped the nightdress on the bed and fiddled with her wand. Should she risk a sleeping charm? It would keep things simple, but people could react badly to psycho-physiological magic if they had alcohol or other drugs in their bodies.
Best not to risk it, Ginny decided. Besides, she wasn't certain she could focus enough right now to cast anything as delicate as a sleeping charm -- she'd probably leave Hermione in a week-long coma if she tried!
"Hermione, if you wake up we're going to pretend this is all a massive hallucination, and I'm going to hide in your closet until you fall asleep again, okay?" Hermione didn't answer. "I'll take that as a yes. God, I must be more pissed than I thought if I'm talking to you while you're asleep. I'm going to start with your shoes."
And she was going to stop narrating this idiocy to Hermione while she was at it. Ginny stuck her wand between her teeth, keeping it aimed at Hermione to maintain control of the levitation charm, and set to work.
She pulled off the gleaming black boots -- which she'd been pleasantly surprised to find lurking in the depths of Hermione's neatly stacked shoeboxes -- with no trouble. The stockings and jewelry came off similarly easily, and Ginny considered stopping there; nothing said Hermione couldn't sleep in her skirt and blouse, after all.
But that was cruel and unusual punishment for such nice clothes, clothes that Ginny had bought specially after poking through Hermione's wardrobe to learn her sizes and studying her friend to see what cuts and styles flattered her figure. And to be honest, she hoped that if Hermione woke up in her regular nightdress instead of the club clothes, she might be more likely to pass off her drunken antics as a peculiar dream. Which would be just fine, in Ginny's opinion.
Then she wouldn't have to consider anything. Particularly not the way Hermione's fingers had traced circles on her stomach and dipped down into--
No. She wasn't thinking about that now. That was for tomorrow, for when she wasn't drunk and Hermione wasn't levitating in front of her, held up by the wand clenched between Ginny's bared teeth while Ginny's hands gently eased Hermione's skirt down over her knees.
"Not ugly," Hermione murmured, shifting in her sleep. Ginny froze. "Sodding bastards don't know what they're missing. See if I..."
She trailed off, and Ginny resumed breathing. She was still thinking about sex? Well, at least if Hermione was dreaming about that bizarre conversation, she'd be more likely to think the bits in the club were also a dream. And then they could forget the whole thing.
Skirt successfully pulled off and folded over her arm, Ginny tugged the blouse over Hermione's head and tangled, sweat-dampened hair, managing not to provoke any more movement, and... done! Ginny grinned around her wand -- was she good or was she good?
And wow, she'd checked to make sure Hermione had bras that would work with the blouse, but her friend had picked the skimpiest, laciest one to wear. Obviously some part of her had known she needed to unwind, even if she'd consciously protested.
The knickers matched the bra, a small part of Ginny's mind pointed out as she unhooked the clasp and left Hermione's breasts bare. And Hermione looked practically edible, all stretched out, weightless, and nearly naked.
"I'm not thinking about that!" Ginny muttered, hastily dropping the bra and shifting her wand back to her hand. "Definitely not thinking about that. Time for the nightdress."
She scooped the cotton shift off Hermione's bed. "Hmm. If I'm sober enough to manage controlled levitation, maybe I can dress you with magic? I've certainly learned enough fashion charms off my friends over the years."
Why not?
"Vestio," said Ginny, flicking her wand.
The nightdress coiled, unbuttoning itself and snaking over Hermione's head. The sleeves slipped over her arms, and the back buttoned up again as the sash tied itself into a bow.
"Neat. Well, that's that. I'll just tidy up in here, and I'll see you in the morning, Hermione, when we can pretend none of this ever happened."
Ginny released the levitation charm, letting Hermione's body settle gently onto the sheets. She tucked in the covers, and then bent down and gathered the spilled bras into her arms, preparing to dump them into Hermione's dresser.
When she stood up, Hermione was staring at her.
"Oh, toad guts."
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The bed was only large enough to fit two people comfortably -- three would be a squeeze -- so Draco cast a quick Enlargement Charm while Harry was undressing Luna. He considered transfiguring the sheets to silk but decided not to bother. Cotton offered better traction. However, the pattern had to go; there was no way he was having sex on orange sheets decorated with animated Snitches. Draco charmed the sheets white, filed away Harry's taste in linens for future blackmail, and resolved never to let the idiot buy furniture unsupervised.
"Malfoy, put the wand down and come over here," said Harry as he plucked out Luna's paperclip earrings and laid them on the dresser next to their wands. Luna was bracing herself against the wall and running a bare foot up and down Harry's still-clothed legs.
Technically speaking, her orange and purple clothes clashed horribly with his bright green shirt, but with Luna's chest thrust forward and that intense concentration on Harry's face, Draco couldn't bring himself to care; he just admired the view. They had no taste, they gave him no peace, they drove him mad, but there was something about those two...
Draco twirled his wand, but tucked it back into the wrist holster instead of laying it aside. He owed Harry for messing with his hair and refusing to dance at the start of the evening. And he had a plan.
"I don't take orders from you," he said, sliding his hands around Harry's waist and tugging his t-shirt out from his jeans. Harry's stomach muscles twitched as Draco ran his fingers over bare skin. Draco grinned. "Scared?"
Harry twisted his head and returned the grin. "You wish."
It was a little tradition, a reminder of their history and a promise not to back out of this new... whatever it was.
Luna quirked her eyebrows at the two of them, her large, gleaming eyes making the gesture particularly expressive, and reached down to unzip Harry's jeans. "Draco, either undress Harry or get naked yourself."
Minx. If she was in a dominating mood, that might be helpful once he got Harry tied up. Draco hid a smile as he shucked his trousers and pants, and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry thought Draco would look nice tied up in pink ribbons, did he? Well, Draco thought that look would go much better on Harry. And he was going to prove it.
Harry was naked now, except for those wide, segmented silver bracelets that always reminded Draco of handcuffs. His wand was over six feet away, tangled in Luna's bizarre jewelry.
Draco smirked.
"Petrificus totalus," he whispered as he casually waved a hand in Harry's direction, anticipating the sight of the other man bound and waiting on his and Luna's pleasure.
Harry ducked.
"Oh, bugger." Draco triggered his wrist holster, gripped his wand tightly, and dove behind the bed a bare second ahead of a series of counter curses. You didn't try to hex Harry; you either succeeded or you learned, painfully, why the blasted Gryffindor had topped all their Defense classes and been one of the most feared duelists on either side of the war. Harry was diabolically good at channeling his instinctive magical reactions into wandless curses when disarmed, and by now he'd certainly have summoned his wand, regardless of the consequences to Luna's earrings and necklace.
Harry didn't use debilitating curses on his friends, but even four years after the war, certain reflexes were still somewhat... volatile.
Draco transfigured his shirt into a bent spyglass and peered around the solid, wooden bed frame -- there was no way he was putting his naked eye in Harry's line of fire! Minor scuffling noises emanated from the far side -- Luna and Harry getting in each other's way?
Draco shrugged. Now or never. He stood, leaning forward to hurl a stunner over the bed... and froze.
Harry's wand was pressed against the back of his neck.
"The hell?"
"Petrificus totalus," whispered Harry, and Draco felt his body lock up and topple awkwardly against the bed. "You really ought to remember that I like to attack from behind."
Luna laughed, thumping her fist against the bed and jostling Draco. "Oh, you boys! Making spyglasses out of shirts and riding levitating bracelets over beds -- I wonder why people think I'm the strange one..." She shook her head as if dismissing the question. "Oh well. Harry, unbind Draco and I'll conjure the ribbons."
"Pink silk," Harry reminded her, tapping his wand against Draco's shoulder to undo the bind and levitate him over the bed.
Pink silk shot from Luna's wand, the ribbons wreathing around his body to pull his arms back, spread his legs, link his wrists to his ankles, and tease various sensitive areas that drew an outraged squawk from Draco's newly responsive vocal cords. "Let me go!"
Luna tilted her head as if considering. "...No, I think we won't. I was right -- you do look sweet. You'd look ever nicer if you smiled."
"I'm not sweet!" Draco protested. Merlin, this was embarrassing!
Luna simply shrugged, laid her wand back onto the dresser, and crawled onto the bed in front of Draco, tempting him with all that skin he couldn't reach out and touch. Harry, the heartless, double-crossing bastard, laughed as he settled in behind him.
"How does it feel to have no power?" asked Harry, his fingers dipping dangerously low on Draco's back. "Draco Malfoy, arrogant Slytherin, always in control... Tonight we're calling the tune."
Luna's hand closed over his cock, and Draco involuntarily twitched his hips forward. "No," she said, a hint of a smile hovering at the edges of her mouth. "Don't move. Harry, spank him if he tries anything again."
"This is uncalled for!"
Harry leaned forward and let his words drift into Draco's ear, breath hot and lips trailing against skin as he spoke. "Can't take your own medicine, Malfoy?" A sharp thrust of fingers punctuated his question.
"Ah! That's not the point!" Since when was Harry this forward? Draco knew Harry was anything but a pushover, but usually he and Luna let Draco set the pace in bed, deferring to his air of greater experience. The fact that his actual experience before this mess was limited to Pansy wasn't something Draco had felt compelled to mention.
"I don't like points; they usually hurt even if you learn something useful, and far too many people learn the wrong things instead," said Luna, her eyes suddenly serious. She added Draco's balls to her ministrations, drawing an overwhelmed gasp. "But Draco, you said it yourself: all we do is have sex and argue. I want to find what my mother and father had, to have someone look at me the way they looked at each other. We don't have that now, but we could; I can feel it. Maybe we just need to try new ways to get there. Right, Harry?"
Harry was silent for several seconds, his hands still. Then, "Yeah," he said. "That's exactly right. We have to learn to trust each other more, to see if we can build something worth keeping. And Draco? We're starting with you."
They might have had a point, and not a terribly painful one either, Draco admitted afterward as they lay collapsed together, his hands still fastened to his ankles. He'd never been in the middle before, never wanted to give up control or admit that he'd grown to care enough for his partners that he'd regret losing them; if he was always in charge, he could pretend he'd just grown tired of them if they left. But Luna had amazing hands, Harry had a wonderfully filthy mouth when he was running the show, and they'd used those ribbons in mind-boggling places...
Still, there were limits!
"Weasley's insane," he mumbled, "asking Patil do this to him every night. Absolutely barking mad."
"So says the man who not five minutes ago swore he was having the best sex of his life and begged us not to stop," said Harry dryly. He leaned down and snagged his wand from the floor.
Draco shrugged as Harry banished the ribbons. "I'm a Slytherin. Obviously I was lying."
Harry jerked upright, but Luna reached over from Draco's other side and poked Harry in the collarbone. "Harry," she said, pale eyes glimmering, "think. Which time he was lying?"
Most people dismissed Luna out of hand as slightly mad, but Draco knew better. Loony she might well be -- for Merlin's sake, who actually believed in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? -- but she was still a sodding Ravenclaw and too perceptive for his peace of mind. Draco met Harry's questioning stare with a blank face, and stifled a groan when the idiot suddenly grinned and winked at him. Couldn't they leave a man some secrets?
Apparently not, but neither Harry nor Luna pressed the issue. Instead, after a few cleaning charms, courtesy of Harry, and a few furtive kisses and 'accidental' touches, they pulled up the covers and settled in for the remains of the night.
Several hours later, Draco woke to the faint glimmerings of dawn and the realization that Harry's wand was balanced on the headboard. He smirked. They were similar enough that they could make some use of each other's wands, and he owed Harry revenge, now more than ever.
One quick charm later, pink silk ribbons tangled in Harry and Luna's hair, and, for the final touch, a pink satin bow rested snugly around Harry's cock. Draco returned to sleep with a smile.
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Back to part 3
Continue to part 5
---------------------------------------------
In real life news, my project won't actually be done by the end of the week -- we're getting another load of invoices on Monday, which we will have to check against the vendor catalogues (price shifts, you know -- we've disabled automatic electronic price updates so we could manually fix things), check against the general items, and then receive into the system. On top of that, we're going to have to assign storage locations on an inventory tally sheet, or something like that.
Oh well. I finished reviewing my half of the December invoices and have moved on to creating general items to match some of the new vendor items, which is much less likely to make my head explode from sheer boredom. :-)
The changes usually aren't drastic enough to justify resubmitting an entire story to someone else's website, but I'd like to have the 'good' versions all together somewhere.
Anyway. On to the fic!
---------------------------------------------
Paint the Town, part 4
---------------------------------------------
"Okay, Hermione, let's get you to bed," muttered Ginny, manhandling her friend out of the main room. "Now, where do you keep your nightdresses?"
Ginny looked around Hermione's bedroom, noting the pile of discarded bras by the dresser and the work robes left crumpled on the floor for once, instead of neatly hung in the closet. She leaned Hermione against the bed and pulled their wands out of her hair, letting it spill down to tickle her shoulders.
"Leviosa. That's it, good Hermione, there's a good floating body, move onto that bed..." Hermione drifted over the bed, fast asleep in the middle of the air. Ginny pulled back the covers, smiling at the pastel butterfly print on the sheets. Sweet whimsy from Hermione -- who would have guessed?
The nightdress, a sensible shift of light blue cotton, was hanging on the back of the closet door. Ginny grabbed it and studied Hermione, still holding the levitation charm. How to get her out of her clothes and into the nightdress without waking her? If she woke up half naked with Ginny in the room, she'd either die of embarrassment or restart that 'Woe is me, come make love to me Ginny' kick she'd been on.
There was nothing wrong with Hermione liking girls, and Ginny was even a bit flattered that she seemed to be the focus of Hermione's fancy -- it was embarrassing, yes, but it would be even more humiliating if Hermione liked girls and hadn't noticed Ginny. But all that aside, she had her limits. She absolutely wasn't going to do anything while Hermione was shit-faced drunk, no matter what Hermione wanted. That would be wrong. And she wasn't going to say anything tomorrow either, not until she'd had a chance to think over the implications with a clear head. All the implications.
Then maybe they'd talk about it, if Hermione hadn't decided to treat the whole thing as an alcohol-induced hallucination.
Ginny dropped the nightdress on the bed and fiddled with her wand. Should she risk a sleeping charm? It would keep things simple, but people could react badly to psycho-physiological magic if they had alcohol or other drugs in their bodies.
Best not to risk it, Ginny decided. Besides, she wasn't certain she could focus enough right now to cast anything as delicate as a sleeping charm -- she'd probably leave Hermione in a week-long coma if she tried!
"Hermione, if you wake up we're going to pretend this is all a massive hallucination, and I'm going to hide in your closet until you fall asleep again, okay?" Hermione didn't answer. "I'll take that as a yes. God, I must be more pissed than I thought if I'm talking to you while you're asleep. I'm going to start with your shoes."
And she was going to stop narrating this idiocy to Hermione while she was at it. Ginny stuck her wand between her teeth, keeping it aimed at Hermione to maintain control of the levitation charm, and set to work.
She pulled off the gleaming black boots -- which she'd been pleasantly surprised to find lurking in the depths of Hermione's neatly stacked shoeboxes -- with no trouble. The stockings and jewelry came off similarly easily, and Ginny considered stopping there; nothing said Hermione couldn't sleep in her skirt and blouse, after all.
But that was cruel and unusual punishment for such nice clothes, clothes that Ginny had bought specially after poking through Hermione's wardrobe to learn her sizes and studying her friend to see what cuts and styles flattered her figure. And to be honest, she hoped that if Hermione woke up in her regular nightdress instead of the club clothes, she might be more likely to pass off her drunken antics as a peculiar dream. Which would be just fine, in Ginny's opinion.
Then she wouldn't have to consider anything. Particularly not the way Hermione's fingers had traced circles on her stomach and dipped down into--
No. She wasn't thinking about that now. That was for tomorrow, for when she wasn't drunk and Hermione wasn't levitating in front of her, held up by the wand clenched between Ginny's bared teeth while Ginny's hands gently eased Hermione's skirt down over her knees.
"Not ugly," Hermione murmured, shifting in her sleep. Ginny froze. "Sodding bastards don't know what they're missing. See if I..."
She trailed off, and Ginny resumed breathing. She was still thinking about sex? Well, at least if Hermione was dreaming about that bizarre conversation, she'd be more likely to think the bits in the club were also a dream. And then they could forget the whole thing.
Skirt successfully pulled off and folded over her arm, Ginny tugged the blouse over Hermione's head and tangled, sweat-dampened hair, managing not to provoke any more movement, and... done! Ginny grinned around her wand -- was she good or was she good?
And wow, she'd checked to make sure Hermione had bras that would work with the blouse, but her friend had picked the skimpiest, laciest one to wear. Obviously some part of her had known she needed to unwind, even if she'd consciously protested.
The knickers matched the bra, a small part of Ginny's mind pointed out as she unhooked the clasp and left Hermione's breasts bare. And Hermione looked practically edible, all stretched out, weightless, and nearly naked.
"I'm not thinking about that!" Ginny muttered, hastily dropping the bra and shifting her wand back to her hand. "Definitely not thinking about that. Time for the nightdress."
She scooped the cotton shift off Hermione's bed. "Hmm. If I'm sober enough to manage controlled levitation, maybe I can dress you with magic? I've certainly learned enough fashion charms off my friends over the years."
Why not?
"Vestio," said Ginny, flicking her wand.
The nightdress coiled, unbuttoning itself and snaking over Hermione's head. The sleeves slipped over her arms, and the back buttoned up again as the sash tied itself into a bow.
"Neat. Well, that's that. I'll just tidy up in here, and I'll see you in the morning, Hermione, when we can pretend none of this ever happened."
Ginny released the levitation charm, letting Hermione's body settle gently onto the sheets. She tucked in the covers, and then bent down and gathered the spilled bras into her arms, preparing to dump them into Hermione's dresser.
When she stood up, Hermione was staring at her.
"Oh, toad guts."
---------------------------------------------
The bed was only large enough to fit two people comfortably -- three would be a squeeze -- so Draco cast a quick Enlargement Charm while Harry was undressing Luna. He considered transfiguring the sheets to silk but decided not to bother. Cotton offered better traction. However, the pattern had to go; there was no way he was having sex on orange sheets decorated with animated Snitches. Draco charmed the sheets white, filed away Harry's taste in linens for future blackmail, and resolved never to let the idiot buy furniture unsupervised.
"Malfoy, put the wand down and come over here," said Harry as he plucked out Luna's paperclip earrings and laid them on the dresser next to their wands. Luna was bracing herself against the wall and running a bare foot up and down Harry's still-clothed legs.
Technically speaking, her orange and purple clothes clashed horribly with his bright green shirt, but with Luna's chest thrust forward and that intense concentration on Harry's face, Draco couldn't bring himself to care; he just admired the view. They had no taste, they gave him no peace, they drove him mad, but there was something about those two...
Draco twirled his wand, but tucked it back into the wrist holster instead of laying it aside. He owed Harry for messing with his hair and refusing to dance at the start of the evening. And he had a plan.
"I don't take orders from you," he said, sliding his hands around Harry's waist and tugging his t-shirt out from his jeans. Harry's stomach muscles twitched as Draco ran his fingers over bare skin. Draco grinned. "Scared?"
Harry twisted his head and returned the grin. "You wish."
It was a little tradition, a reminder of their history and a promise not to back out of this new... whatever it was.
Luna quirked her eyebrows at the two of them, her large, gleaming eyes making the gesture particularly expressive, and reached down to unzip Harry's jeans. "Draco, either undress Harry or get naked yourself."
Minx. If she was in a dominating mood, that might be helpful once he got Harry tied up. Draco hid a smile as he shucked his trousers and pants, and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry thought Draco would look nice tied up in pink ribbons, did he? Well, Draco thought that look would go much better on Harry. And he was going to prove it.
Harry was naked now, except for those wide, segmented silver bracelets that always reminded Draco of handcuffs. His wand was over six feet away, tangled in Luna's bizarre jewelry.
Draco smirked.
"Petrificus totalus," he whispered as he casually waved a hand in Harry's direction, anticipating the sight of the other man bound and waiting on his and Luna's pleasure.
Harry ducked.
"Oh, bugger." Draco triggered his wrist holster, gripped his wand tightly, and dove behind the bed a bare second ahead of a series of counter curses. You didn't try to hex Harry; you either succeeded or you learned, painfully, why the blasted Gryffindor had topped all their Defense classes and been one of the most feared duelists on either side of the war. Harry was diabolically good at channeling his instinctive magical reactions into wandless curses when disarmed, and by now he'd certainly have summoned his wand, regardless of the consequences to Luna's earrings and necklace.
Harry didn't use debilitating curses on his friends, but even four years after the war, certain reflexes were still somewhat... volatile.
Draco transfigured his shirt into a bent spyglass and peered around the solid, wooden bed frame -- there was no way he was putting his naked eye in Harry's line of fire! Minor scuffling noises emanated from the far side -- Luna and Harry getting in each other's way?
Draco shrugged. Now or never. He stood, leaning forward to hurl a stunner over the bed... and froze.
Harry's wand was pressed against the back of his neck.
"The hell?"
"Petrificus totalus," whispered Harry, and Draco felt his body lock up and topple awkwardly against the bed. "You really ought to remember that I like to attack from behind."
Luna laughed, thumping her fist against the bed and jostling Draco. "Oh, you boys! Making spyglasses out of shirts and riding levitating bracelets over beds -- I wonder why people think I'm the strange one..." She shook her head as if dismissing the question. "Oh well. Harry, unbind Draco and I'll conjure the ribbons."
"Pink silk," Harry reminded her, tapping his wand against Draco's shoulder to undo the bind and levitate him over the bed.
Pink silk shot from Luna's wand, the ribbons wreathing around his body to pull his arms back, spread his legs, link his wrists to his ankles, and tease various sensitive areas that drew an outraged squawk from Draco's newly responsive vocal cords. "Let me go!"
Luna tilted her head as if considering. "...No, I think we won't. I was right -- you do look sweet. You'd look ever nicer if you smiled."
"I'm not sweet!" Draco protested. Merlin, this was embarrassing!
Luna simply shrugged, laid her wand back onto the dresser, and crawled onto the bed in front of Draco, tempting him with all that skin he couldn't reach out and touch. Harry, the heartless, double-crossing bastard, laughed as he settled in behind him.
"How does it feel to have no power?" asked Harry, his fingers dipping dangerously low on Draco's back. "Draco Malfoy, arrogant Slytherin, always in control... Tonight we're calling the tune."
Luna's hand closed over his cock, and Draco involuntarily twitched his hips forward. "No," she said, a hint of a smile hovering at the edges of her mouth. "Don't move. Harry, spank him if he tries anything again."
"This is uncalled for!"
Harry leaned forward and let his words drift into Draco's ear, breath hot and lips trailing against skin as he spoke. "Can't take your own medicine, Malfoy?" A sharp thrust of fingers punctuated his question.
"Ah! That's not the point!" Since when was Harry this forward? Draco knew Harry was anything but a pushover, but usually he and Luna let Draco set the pace in bed, deferring to his air of greater experience. The fact that his actual experience before this mess was limited to Pansy wasn't something Draco had felt compelled to mention.
"I don't like points; they usually hurt even if you learn something useful, and far too many people learn the wrong things instead," said Luna, her eyes suddenly serious. She added Draco's balls to her ministrations, drawing an overwhelmed gasp. "But Draco, you said it yourself: all we do is have sex and argue. I want to find what my mother and father had, to have someone look at me the way they looked at each other. We don't have that now, but we could; I can feel it. Maybe we just need to try new ways to get there. Right, Harry?"
Harry was silent for several seconds, his hands still. Then, "Yeah," he said. "That's exactly right. We have to learn to trust each other more, to see if we can build something worth keeping. And Draco? We're starting with you."
They might have had a point, and not a terribly painful one either, Draco admitted afterward as they lay collapsed together, his hands still fastened to his ankles. He'd never been in the middle before, never wanted to give up control or admit that he'd grown to care enough for his partners that he'd regret losing them; if he was always in charge, he could pretend he'd just grown tired of them if they left. But Luna had amazing hands, Harry had a wonderfully filthy mouth when he was running the show, and they'd used those ribbons in mind-boggling places...
Still, there were limits!
"Weasley's insane," he mumbled, "asking Patil do this to him every night. Absolutely barking mad."
"So says the man who not five minutes ago swore he was having the best sex of his life and begged us not to stop," said Harry dryly. He leaned down and snagged his wand from the floor.
Draco shrugged as Harry banished the ribbons. "I'm a Slytherin. Obviously I was lying."
Harry jerked upright, but Luna reached over from Draco's other side and poked Harry in the collarbone. "Harry," she said, pale eyes glimmering, "think. Which time he was lying?"
Most people dismissed Luna out of hand as slightly mad, but Draco knew better. Loony she might well be -- for Merlin's sake, who actually believed in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? -- but she was still a sodding Ravenclaw and too perceptive for his peace of mind. Draco met Harry's questioning stare with a blank face, and stifled a groan when the idiot suddenly grinned and winked at him. Couldn't they leave a man some secrets?
Apparently not, but neither Harry nor Luna pressed the issue. Instead, after a few cleaning charms, courtesy of Harry, and a few furtive kisses and 'accidental' touches, they pulled up the covers and settled in for the remains of the night.
Several hours later, Draco woke to the faint glimmerings of dawn and the realization that Harry's wand was balanced on the headboard. He smirked. They were similar enough that they could make some use of each other's wands, and he owed Harry revenge, now more than ever.
One quick charm later, pink silk ribbons tangled in Harry and Luna's hair, and, for the final touch, a pink satin bow rested snugly around Harry's cock. Draco returned to sleep with a smile.
---------------------------------------------
Back to part 3
Continue to part 5
---------------------------------------------
In real life news, my project won't actually be done by the end of the week -- we're getting another load of invoices on Monday, which we will have to check against the vendor catalogues (price shifts, you know -- we've disabled automatic electronic price updates so we could manually fix things), check against the general items, and then receive into the system. On top of that, we're going to have to assign storage locations on an inventory tally sheet, or something like that.
Oh well. I finished reviewing my half of the December invoices and have moved on to creating general items to match some of the new vendor items, which is much less likely to make my head explode from sheer boredom. :-)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2005-02-17 03:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-17 03:34 am (UTC)...Er, no pun intended.