Chapter Text
Monday, June 26th 2006
The first time Harry had a pregnancy craving, Draco had been ecstatic. He’d been sleeping deeply when a soft shake of his shoulder brought him out of his reveries. As he opened his bleary eyes, he saw Harry biting his lip and looking abashed. His barely there baby bump was peeking out from under his Quidditch jersey, and his green eyes almost looked lit up in the relative darkness of their bedroom. “Is there something wrong, Harry?” Draco asked calmly.
Harry licked his lips and looked away. “You said to wake you if I craved something that we didn’t already have,” he whined. His big beautiful eyes, magnified by his circle frames, pleaded with Draco. “I can’t stand it anymore. All I want is fried Plimpy and Liquorice Wands.”
Draco’s mouth dropped open. The thought of that meal was revolting. But his precious Harry was eating for two and Draco would happily be at the beck and call of his husband and child. Draco kissed Harry and threw the covers off. “Fried Plimpy and Liquorice Wands; coming right up,” he said, his voice scratchy from sleep.
The face Harry had made when Draco had returned with the promised goodies was enough to make up for him trudging his way down Diagon Alley in the heavy downpour—which had threatened to become a storm—at four in the morning. Well—that and the lovely handjob Draco had received in thanks.
Harry had been so overjoyed with his peculiar meal that he hadn’t even taken the time to wash his hands before he’d pulled down Draco’s trousers and pants and climbed onto his lap. Draco had brought the food to bed for Harry on a tray, and as he sat, his back against the carved wooden headboard and looked up at his beautiful miracle, he was overcome by an overwhelming sense of right. Draco felt Harry’s warm hand—still greasy from the fried Plimpy—grasp his cock and tug at it gently.
“You‘ve not touched your Liquorice Wands,” he gasped out, his eyes quickly darting to the unopened box beside him. When he glanced back at his husband, Harry looked ravenous.
Harry leant forward and kissed Draco, the kiss rapidly turning messy. His lips were greasy and tasted of Plimpy but Draco didn’t mind. He could never mind. “Yours is the only wand I want right now,” Harry said breathily.
Draco groaned. “That’s terrible.”
Harry’s eyes glinted mischievously. His hand tightly gripped Draco’s cock and he thumbed at the head of it, drawing moans from him.
“Merlin,” he breathed out. Draco thrusted into that slick hand. It felt marvelous and his previous ire at having been woken up at four in the morning disappeared as his love for the man carrying his child swelled within him. His head fell back with a thud against the headboard. “Hands made for worshiping cock,” he whispered.
Harry leant forward and nuzzled the side of Draco’s jaw. “Just cock? Or your cock in particular?” he replied in a seductive voice.
Instantly, Draco’s eyes snapped open and his hands pressed into Harry’s hips. “Look at me, pet,” he ordered.
With a sly smile, Harry looked at him. And Draco was taken in by it all. By his messy hair which stuck up at odd angles, by his mouth shining from the greasy food, his crooked glasses and most of all, his belly poking out from under his jersey. All of it belonged to him and he’d never let Harry escape him. “Mine,” he growled out.
Harry’s smile grew. “Good. Prove it,” he demanded. He brought both hands to Draco’s cock and tightened them deliciously. Harry quickened his pace and those hands massaged his prick on each downturn.
Draco’s lidded eyes looked down at his cock, the red tip of it disappearing in his husband’s hands. Those hands that had done so much; they were the hands that had brought the Fertility Potion to his mouth and drank. They had defeated the Dark Lord—with Draco’s own wand, an important detail to say lest it be forgotten—and they were now servicing him. His cock. His lust.
Merlin, he loved this man.
Draco could feel his orgasm approaching with each slide of those slick hands. He leant forward and pushed his cock against the nascent baby bump. The feel of the rough fabric against his sensitive tip sent him over the edge. His cock spurted thick ropes of come all over his husband. Draco’s hands flew to Harry’s face and he kissed him through the shudders washing over him.
Once the—frankly incredible—orgasm had ebbed away, Draco looked over his debauched husband. He was a vision. Green eyes sweetly looking down at him, glasses nowhere to be seen, hair that looked like he’d been struck by lightning, which appropriate, skin flushed pink, mouth shiny with grease and saliva, and pearly come on his chin and chest. Draco needed to devour him.
“You’ve no right looking so undone,” Draco muttered.
Harry softly bit his lip. “Is that so?”
“Not yet at least. I‘ve still got to work on you.” Without waiting for a response, Draco swiftly flipped Harry on his back and slithered down his legs. He grabbed the waistband of Harry’s pants and roughly lowered them. Harry hissed as his cock was exposed to the open air. “What have we here, pet?” Draco encircled the base of Harry’s leaking cock with two fingers.
“Please, Draco,” Harry whimpered.
“Hush. Let me take care of you. It’s my duty now more than ever.”
Draco could see the effect his words had on Harry. He instantly melted in Draco’s strong and secure hands. Harry nodded and Draco began his dissection of him. Each touch on that fevered skin was him plucking at Harry’s deep seated need for worship. But not the kind he so gratuitously received on a daily basis. Worship for the real Harry. The one who loved deeply and wanted the same in turn—the one who yearned for security and family. Each pluck at those Harry strings had Draco playing his favourite symphony. Harry let out little moans and whimpers of desperation as Draco tempted and teased his cock. And when he took that delectable prick inside his mouth and gave it a loving suck, Harry keened.
Draco did his best to make it last, but admittedly he was craving a little something himself. Craving the sight of his Harry, belly swollen with the Malfoy heir, debauched and wanton, panting out how much he loved Draco. Draco had earned that and he would be collecting. He swallowed all of Harry from tip to root and let go of the base.
Instantly, Harry’s hips lifted up and he whined. “Draco, please. I can’t hold on. Please.”
Draco pulled off just long enough to say, “Let go, pet.” He resumed his ministrations and picked up the pace, tongue prodding at the underside of Harry’s cock, and when Draco’s finger probed at Harry’s hole, he came with a shout.
“I love you, Draco. I love—” Harry’s words were cut off by the peak of his orgasm. Draco popped off and stroked Harry to completion, his come shooting onto his exposed belly.
Draco looked down at Harry, his grey eyes glittering with love. “Always so good for me,” he said as he leant forward and kissed Harry deeply. After retrieving his wand and casting a quick Cleaning Spell, he lay down and spooned his husband from behind, cradling his growing belly.
“Thank you for everything, love,” Harry muttered sated and nearly asleep.
Draco tenderly kissed the side of his neck and huffed in the smell of his Harry. “Anything for you.”