Fic: La langue

Title: La langue
Author: wordplay
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Draco's been away from home for far too long.
Warnings: Rimming, a little dirty talk, PWP.
Author's notes: This was written for anise_anise for Smutmas 2005, and more thanks to those who read and reviewed during the fest. Many thanks to emmagrant01 for her fantastic (and quick!) beta-reading. Thanks to the mods of serpentinelion for the invite; this fic will be archived only here and at Skyehawke.




Seven weeks.

Well, not quite. It had actually only been six weeks and four days since Draco had joined the team in France for some kind of translation and language research, but Harry felt his absence most acutely and his body was telling him to round up, for fuck’s sake.

He stopped to rifle through the post on his way into the house, went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich and a big glass of water, quickly lit the fire and then collapsed on the sofa in the parlor with the new issue of Quidditch Weekly to flip through it and wait for the call that he knew was coming. Even with the moving pictures and flashing headlines, though, Harry couldn’t focus on his reading; he was restless and brooding about how much his life sucked at the moment.

The first two weeks had passed quickly; there was the busy-ness of Halloween and Harry certainly had work of his own to keep him occupied. And besides, Harry had found it nice to have a little extra quiet time to himself. Since Draco had moved into Grimmauld Place with him 8 months previous, they had spent their evenings together. Harry’s life outside of Hogwarts had been lonely for as long as he could remember, and so he’d enjoyed that easy companionship – well, when it was easy, and considering this was Draco, it wasn’t always. And besides, Harry’s own solitary nature had been coddled far too long for their cohabitation to be really simple.

So for just about the first 15 days, Harry had enjoyed the peace of an empty house and had been satisfied with a simple tea, a bit of porn and a morning wank in the shower. During the 3rd week the days began to drag and the house suddenly started seeming empty at random moments, and by the time Draco had been away for four full weeks (almost a month!) Harry was starting to climb the walls. Sure, Ron, Hermione and Neville kept him busy, and he was always welcome at Remus and Tonks’s place, but he wanted his home back, his own little bit of peace and chaos with Draco and their owls and all of Draco’s bizarre quirks. He even found himself craving that ridiculous raspberry tart Draco loved and although he’d always found it oversweet even on Draco’s lips, he found himself stopping in at the bakery for it 2 nights a week.

On the day they’d been apart for a month, Hedwig came bearing a small package.

The script on the outside of the package was unrecognizable, save that it bore the distinct “f”s of Francophone script that Harry had become so familiar with during his own stint in the research facilities of Beauxbatons. He’d opened it to find a perfectly sculpted little wax beetle with a small note in Draco’s writing:

Put it in your ear, Potter. Activation: Ecoutez. –D

Harry did as instructed, and suddenly he heard a mellow chime, followed by Draco’s voice in his ear, as clear as if we was there whispering to him, hot and sticky. "Took you long enough; I’ve had this thing in my ear for hours already. These Frog owls are dreadfully slow, and I think your girl there has taken up with one of them. You should take a firmer hand with her."

"A beetle?"

"It’s a flea, actually. It’s a joke, Potter – la puce a l’oreille, a flea in your ear? Means you’re annoyed or a little suspicious, not at all the same as 'bug in your ear' although just right for what we need. It’s an excellent bit of technological collaboration; dead useful for communication and espionage, of course, but equally excellent for keeping in touch with a distant lover." Harry could hear Draco smirking at him all the way across the Channel. Smug bastard.

"So this is what you’ve been working on, dreaming up puns and jokes? There are so few sarcastic bastards in all of France that they have to import them?" Harry moved through the small basement kitchen, taking his plate with the remnants of his tea to the sink.

"There aren’t that many military linguists who have the arithmancy background for this kind of encryption work, never mind the skills in enchantment and transfiguration necessary to get this thing to work right. And this conversation is counting as research, so let’s just be glad I’m able to use these early prototypes to talk to you. Now stop whining and tell me about what’s going on there."

"So if this thing is done, why aren’t you home?" Harry knew he was complaining but fuck it, he felt justified.

"Still work to be done. I’ll tell you about it later. Did you talk to Granger about their plans for the holidays?"

"You still think you’ll be back by then?" Harry pressed.

"I know I will," and his voice was soft and reassuring and so Harry sighed and shoved aside his anger and frustration for just a little bit longer.

*******

Days had passed, and they used the earwig rather a lot. It helped, in some ways, but it also made Harry ache for the physical presence of his lover. He just sounded so close, and it seemed unfair to be unable to touch him when he could hear him so clearly. Their conversations usually began innocently enough, but this was Draco, so they rarely stayed there.

"What are you eating? I can hear you smacking. Don’t do that while I’m in your head!"

"Sorry. It’s that raspberry tart."

Draco gasped. "My raspberry tart?"

Harry mmhmmed as he pushed the back of the fork into the last few crumbs on the plate, then swiped at a smear of mascarpone cream.

Draco swore. "Oh, I really do need to come home."

"Draco, you’re in France. Surely they have pastry there." He wondered if Draco could hear the smile in his voice even from that far away. This was Draco, though, who knew more about the variation of the human voice than anyone he knew.

"It’s not the pastry, idiot. It’s the image of you eating it. I want to see you with your lips red from the raspberries and shiny with cream."

Harry smirked around the tines of his fork, and finally put the plate down.

*******

"There?" the voice in his ear chimed, energized and excited.

Harry dropped his quidditch mag onto the couch beside him and settled back against the cushions, tapping the bit of wax in his ear and mumbling the charm. "Yes, I’m here. Just settling in, actually."

"You’ll be glad to know that I’m finishing up the last bit of work here and should be home sometime next week. Think you can wait for me that long?"

Harry grimaced; this wasn’t the first time Draco had told him he’d be along in just a few days. He’d always been a tease, and Harry had a very low tolerance for that kind of baiting. "Not like I have a ruddy choice, do I? Is it for real this time?"

"You know, Oh Great and Mighty War Hero, you’d think you’d be more grateful for the effort I’m putting out here."

"Fine. Yes, I think I can stand to wait for next week. Happy now?"

"I know how I could be happier. Tell me where you are."

Harry looked around the lifeless room. "The lounge, the parlor, whatever. On that big red couch."

"The one I like to fuck you over? Mmm, yeah, good memories there. What are you wearing?"

Harry snorted. "This is bad porn dialogue, you realize. You’ve become desperate and predictable. I thought France was the home of the dirty weekend. I was hoping you’d come home inspired and full of new ideas, and here you are, pulling out the stock standards."

"So inspire me, why don’t you? Tell me what you’re going to look like when I’ve got my cock in your ass again, fucking you again."

"I can’t even imagine such a thing, since I’m topping as soon as you get home."

Draco chuckled. "You think so, do you?"

"Oh yes, I am. There’ll be more, obviously.” Harry flopped down onto the sofa and pulled his dick from his trousers. It pissed him off that this was all it took from Draco to get him hard. “First I want you on your knees and I want to see my cock all shiny from your spit, sliding in and out of your lips.” He spat into his own hand and returned it to his dick. “God, you are so good at that. You suck cock like you were made for it."

"Maybe I was. Maybe I was made just to suck your cock. I love it. I love sucking your balls; they fit perfectly into my mouth, you know."

Harry moaned, sliding down until his arse hung off the edge of the sofa; he remembered how that hot mouth and soft tongue felt when it stroked and sucked and tickled, and he fondled his own balls, rolling them in his spit-slick hand, giving them a bit of a tug. "Mmm, yeah. That’s good. Yeah.” He licked his hand again and let his fingers drift down to tease at his hole. "I bought new lube for when you come home. Raspberry, even, because it reminded me of you, and it’s sitting right by your side of the bed, waiting for you. When you’ve got me slick and hot and ready, I’m going to spread you open with it – push you onto your back and make you hold your legs apart for me, while I slide my fingers into you and press you open." Harry slid two moist fingers into himself up the first knuckle, letting the stretch take the edge off, feeling the different kind of tingle it gave him.

Draco grunted. "Raspberry? Yeah, raspberry. Unnnh, yeah that feels good. I’m not going to give it up easy, you know. While you’re doing that I’m going to be kissing any part of you I can reach, using my feet to pull you down to me so I can taste your neck again. Fuck, I want to kiss you, bite that soft skin under your ears and across your throat. I want to ring your neck with kisses and sucks and bites and bruises, feel – unnh, fuck – feel that skin sliding and gritting between my teeth."

Harry could hear Draco grunting and panting, and he closed his eyes to focus, to try to match the rhythm, sliding his own palm up and down the underside of his cock, keeping his grip loose. He heard Draco take a deep breath and then start talking again, sounding a little calmer. "Don’t come yet. Don’t forget, you still have to fuck me. And god, I want it; I’ve missed you and I’m so hot for you."

He sounded so near; it seemed so real, and Harry groaned. "God, I need you. Need you here."

"Harry, stop. Harry, stop and look at me."

He was confused for a moment; the voice was coming in through both ears and he opened his eyes, a little lost. And there was Draco, naked and leaning in the doorway, as solid and pale and sexy as ever.

He tripped over his trousers making it across the room, quickly kicking his clothes off as he fell into Draco, pushing him up against the doorjamb as their lips clumsily crashed together. The kiss was hot and frantic and somehow still tender; Harry was just so grateful as Draco’s tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting of wine and desperation. He knew he was whimpering, but it was okay, because he was pretty sure Draco had been moaning since he’d stood up and god, this just felt so fucking good. Harry pulled back, cupping Draco’s face in his hands, tangling his fingers in the hair hanging over his angular brow and cheeks. Pale grey eyes glowed up at him and Draco quirked his mouth into a smirk as he pushed his hands up under Harry’s shirt, sliding his fingers around to stroke Harry’s abdomen and start working on the buttons of his shirt. And then he was shoving it down Harry’s arms, still grinning, and then Harry was naked, pressed up against all that smooth, cool skin, their erections bumping and sliding together, and he was struggling not to throw Draco to the floor and just bury himself in that body.

"Like your surprise, then? You should have seen your face. I knew I’d get you," Draco smirked, and he just looked so fucking smug. All of the tension and frustration and pointless anger of the last seven weeks exploded in Harry’s gut, and he exploded in a fit of fury.

"Did you think it was funny?" he spat. "What, I hadn’t waited enough for you, you had to torment me just a little bit more, dangling me on a string?" Harry slid his hands down Draco’s back, cupping his arse and pulling him flush against his body until their pricks were grinding together. "Wanted to make sure I really wanted you, huh? Is that what you wanted to feel?"

Draco’s eyes flashed at him, and he pushed his nails into Harry’s shoulders and leaned back into the wall so he could wrap a leg up and around Harry’s hips, pushing them even closer together, grunting as he rocked against him. "Yes. Something like that. I wanted you hot and hard and ready for me. All these weeks of desperate talk and I wanted to see it in action."

"Fuck you. You’ve got more action than you can handle." Harry shoved Draco to his knees there on the faded rug, pushing his legs up underneath him, bending Draco until the curve of his rounded ass was pulled tight and was little more than the slope between his back and his legs. Harry loved Draco in this position – face pressed to the pillow, shoulders heaving with every breath, all that creamy white skin that was finally here, his to have again, his to do whatever he wanted to it. He loved the tension in his thighs and the way the fine, pale hairs vibrated. He reached forward, curving over Draco, stretching to reach his shoulders, and dragged his hands down Draco’s back, digging into the flesh to watch the skin flush pink in long streaks where his fingers had passed. He wrapped his hands around Draco’s waist, pulling him back, shoving his hips low against Draco’s ass, pushing his cock down against his lover’s balls and sliding up against his lover’s prick. He bent to nibble along Draco’s spine, nipping and licking all the way down to the cleft of his buttocks. He babbled ("You’re fucking beautiful. I’ve missed you. I needed you. Why the fuck weren’t you here?") while Draco whined and whimpered ("Harry! Mmmm, Harryharryharry!"). The sound was coming from everywhere; it echoed through the room but also played directly into his ear and with his eyes closed he thought he could get lost inside Draco’s desperate voice.

He pulled back to look at his lover spread wide and trembling, taking in the smooth pink that turned dusky between Draco’s spread cheeks and a deeper purple disappearing into his body. He pushed his thumbs into Draco’s arse, pulling the cheeks further apart and dragging the tip of his tongue down the hot, tender skin there, teasing at the coarse hairs that grew around his hole, tugging them with his teeth. Draco gasped, shoving back against Harry’s mouth, whining for more, and Harry flattened his tongue, drawing it across the pink pucker, laving it while he massaged the quivering cheeks of Draco’s ass. Harry bared his teeth, dragging the rough surfaces of his teeth around the spasming, wrinkled hole – not quite nibbling, just letting him feel the implied threat, listening to him swear. He pointed his tongue, flexing the muscle to tease the pucker and stab just inside, keeping Draco suspended and poised and caught there, just on the tip of his tongue. Draco whined and twisted and pressed back, aching and begging for more, but Harry’s grip on his hips firmed even as he pressed further into his pliant body, fucking him roughly with his tongue, sealing his lips around Draco’s hole and slurping, sucking hard, when finally it hit him.

He tasted like raspberries.

Harry pulled back and looked at Draco’s arse again. Sure enough, his hole was gleaming and pinked, slicked and relaxed. Apparently he’d already found the lube.

Draco was looking at him over his shoulder, his eyes clouded and confused at the interruption, but when Harry slid his thumb into his body his eyes rolled back and his head fell forward with his moan. "Fuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good." Harry gently pressed his thumb forward, using his forefinger to tickle over the sensitive stretched skin. His frustration with Draco had evaporated instantly with the image of his lover secreted away in their bedroom, hastily preparing himself for a surprise rendezvous.

Harry lowered his mouth again to blow against Draco's balls, reached out a soft, wet tongue to lap at them and then blew again, watching the skin prickle and the hairs stand on end while Draco let out soft moaning grunts. He brought up his other thumb to slide it in as well, pushing them inside together to create a narrow channel for his tongue. He loved Draco like this, shoving back against him, begging for more with his mouth and hisbody, and as he slipped his tongue as far into Draco’s body as it would reach, lapping at the sides, he felt deeply gratified to have him home again. So familiar, this taste and this feeling, with just the lightest bit of saccharine raspberry overlying it. He flicked his tongue, swirled it, savoring his lover and his desperation.

But there was more he wanted, so he slid his thumbs out and kissed a line from Draco's balls to the top of his ass, lingering at his hole to sweep his tongue there again, gently, delicately, swirling it around the opening and stabbing just a little, carefully now. He made his way back up Draco's body, nuzzling at the back of his neck, sweeping aside his hair to suck a path along the side and urging him to roll onto his back.

Draco settled on his back there on the rug and pushed the hair out of his face before favoring Harry with a small, private smile. "Well that's a fine greeting. Nice to see you, too." He reached up and tangled his hands in Harry's hair, pulling him down for a soft, gentle kiss. Harry pulled away, bumping their noses together before reaching down for another brief taste of his mouth. Draco pulled away, smacking his lips. "Mmm, raspberry," he said with a lascivious grin.

Harry laughed. "Welcome home, Draco. I'm glad you're here."

"Yes, I think I noticed just how glad you are, although I’m glad you’ve calmed down a little." He lowered one hand to squeeze Harry's arse and push their hips together a little more firmly. "Now show me some more."

Harry laughed and kissed him again. He couldn't seem to stay away from his mouth now. It was strange, kissing him like this, because most of their sex talk over the last few weeks had focused on their bodies and he just hadn't realized how much he'd missed this tender intimacy, just the sweetness of shared breath and the press of soft lips. He edged out his tongue to trace Draco's thin lips, delighted when he was met with a press of soft, slippery tongue.

Seven. Weeks.

Draco's other hand slid out of his hair to put more pressure on his hips, forcing them to grind down and into him, and as their cocks slipped together Harry panted into Draco's mouth. "God. This – this is going to be over fast. Not quite the welcoming home you deserve."

"Can't live up to your promises, Potter?" Draco's face was flushed and alive with amusement, but the mocking was softened with that same gentle smile. "There's time for more later."

And what had started in a haze of frustration and fury stayed gentle as Harry hoisted Draco's legs and pressed inside him, finding his arse still slick and relaxed enough. Draco fisted his hands in Harry's hair, pulling him down to kiss him slowly as Harry slid in and out, shallow at first, just joining with his lover. Draco grunted as one leg slid down to rest in the crook of Harry's elbow and he dug his heel into Harry's arse, pushing him deeper. Harry felt completely wrapped in Draco – hot mouth sucking at his tongue, ass squeezing around his cock, strong arms and legs caging him – and he couldn't sustain the kiss, breaking it to pant into Draco's shoulder.

Bracing the top of his head against Draco's shoulder, Harry looked down at their bodies, watching his cock slowly sink into his lover's body, watching the rim of Draco's hole roll and slide pink and white. Draco's hand had slipped between them to tug at his own cock – he was so hard, his balls drawn tight up against his body and his foreskin pulled completely back from the shiny red head, the slit seeping a drop of precome. Harry felt a surge in his balls and closed his eyes to the sight; not yet, please not yet.

Harry lifted his head to look at his lover. Draco was lost – pupils blown, lids half-lowered, wet mouth open and panting. He struggled to keep his rhythm steady as he kissed Draco again, just once, and their eyes locked for a moment. Blonde lashes fluttered; Draco was starting to look desperate, and Harry lowered his head to Draco's shoulder again. Once again the sounds of the room overtook him; Draco's soft and rapid pants and moans were fluttering against his left ear, hot and moist, but thanks to the earpiece he could hear him just as well through his right ear. He again felt how very inside of Draco he was, and that was the point and that was that – his pace increased and became frantic for a few more strokes until he spilled inside of him with a gasp and a spill of profanity. Draco's hand sped up as Harry shuddered through his orgasm and he felt Draco's ass contract around him, tightening and squeezing one last burst out of him as he shot warm and sticky across their chests.

He pulled out carefully, grimacing at Draco’s whimper, and collapsed atop his lover. Draco’s legs slid down to wrap around Harry’s calves, slipping one foot between Harry’s own as he nuzzled into Harry’s hair. He reached in and pulled out Harry’s earpiece, tossing it to the side along with his own as he reached his arms up to stretch. He folded his hands behind his head.

Harry looked up at Draco’s self-satisfied smirk and was irritated all over again. "Thinking up more evil plans? I’d have thought you’d have learned your lesson from this one."

"Mmm, at the moment I’m a little too distracted to focus on scheming, sorry. Ask me in the morning," he said languidly.

They were quiet for long moments, and Harry’s breathing settled into a very familiar, steady pattern. Draco petted his messy black head and drew a deep breath, smelling his lover. "I’ll be here," he whispered, and Harry’s arms tightened around him.