"You sick, twisted little Slytherin."

Draco smirked at the expression of amused indignance on Harry's face. Harry was trying so hard to act superior, but the chains suspending his arms high above his shirtless torso made it difficult for Draco to take his captive seriously.

Anyway, it was his turn.

"Stop whinging, Harry. I let you cover me in that chocolate-raspberry sauce last night so you could lick it off, inch by inch. I'll have you know it may have ruined my complexion, and I don't think my hair will ever quite be its proper shade again."

Harry laughed. The light in his face chased the shadows to the corners of the dungeon. How did he have this power to leave Draco feeling so disarmed, even when succumbing to his lover's every wish?

Well, maybe not every wish. Yet. They were only getting started.

"Draco, how did you ever turn out to be such a ponce?"

Draco snorted delicately, leaning back against the stone wall so he could gaze at the wonder of Harry's straining chest and shoulder muscles. Harry, still wearing his glasses so he could see everything Draco was doing - this was one of the few rules they had set for their play - tilted back his head to shoot Draco an indulgent look. With his chin raised, his entire throat was exposed, fueling Draco's fantasies. There were so many things he wanted to do to Harry, he didn't know where to begin.

Harry spoke again, "You'd think growing up in a horrible fortress like this one, with the threat of being locked in these dungeons to keep you in line, you might have ended up a bit tougher."

"Oh, Father never threatened to lock me in here. These were only for when the servants started going on about pay rises."

Harry shook his head, causing ink-black strands to fall across his forehead and into his eyes. Draco was mesmerised for a moment as he watched the tip of one lock brush the very point of Harry's cheekbones. He had to remember to lick that spot, later on.

"Your father truly was a charming chap, wasn't he?"

Draco grunted less delicately this time.

"Look, I can't wait to get rid of this house, alright? Only I thought we could have a bit of fun before I sell it."

"Alright, alright." Harry's voice took on a soft, conciliatory tone that was close enough to its bedroom pitch as to cause a stirring in Draco's groin. "Let's have that fun, then."

Draco pouted a moment longer, simply because he could.

"Get on with it, will you?" demanded Harry a bit more impatiently when he saw Draco's inaction. "My arms are starting to get very sore, you know."

Draco looked up at the husky tone, seeing the darkening of want in his lover's eyes. Harry was letting his head hang forward a bit now, so that his green eyes shined up through his untidy fringe. His bare feet were planted firmly on the ground, his back leaned against the cold wall behind him.

Draco's eyes wandered along the ebony down that trailed from Harry's navel southward into the waistband of his low-slung trousers. Another place to lick, all in good time. At the moment, the bulging muscles that held up Harry's arms, joining the rounded shoulders to the muscular sides, were monopolising Draco's attention.

He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, but he needed to choose just the right approach. He decided, as an act of thanks for Harry's trust, to level the playing field as much as much as possible without ruining the excellent scene they had created.

"Harry. Look at me."

The proud chin raised, green eyes levelled themselves at the silver pair.

Without breaking eye-contact, Draco unfastened the catch at his throat, and swept his robes dramatically from his shoulders. Next, he stepped cleanly from his shoes and kicked them away. Harry's eyebrows inched upward. One corner of Draco's mouth followed them.

Draco's long fingers tugged at the tails of his shirt until they were completely free of his trousers. He brought his hands up to his throat so he could lose and discard his tie, then begin unfastening his shirt buttons, one by painstaking one.

Harry's mouth was hanging softly and wetly open. The look of intense longing in his eyes caught the attention of Draco's arousal, making it tighten against its confining fabric.

Harry wasn't leaning back anymore. He was straining forward against his bonds, communicating with his whole body how badly he wanted to help Draco undress.

The final button gone, Draco shrugged out of his shirt, unbuckled and whipped away his belt, then slipped off his t-shirt. The chill air hit his nipples, causing them to stand immediately to attention.

Harry's eyes were pleading with him to come closer.

Draco never could deny Harry what he really wanted.

Harry's greater height acted as an advantage for Draco, when he closed the distance between them in a few long strides. His mouth attached immediately to Harry's firm pectorals, finding a peaked nipple and licking and sucking and grazing his teeth over it until Harry's cries became hoarse. Draco ran his hands up the firm muscles he'd ogled earlier, massaging the places he knew must be sore, supporting his lover as his lips and tongue travelled up his neck to his earlobe, eliciting more cries and gasps.

"Oh Draco, gods, please..." panted Harry.

Smiling broadly, with an evil glint, Draco engulfed that talkative mouth with his own, slipping his tongue easily between Harry's lips and along the tongue that emerged to greet it. They kissed hungrily, thirstily, wantonly, rubbing their bare chests and clothed arousals against each other, each revelling in the sensation of his lover's body against his.

Draco wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's waist, and drew back to look him in the eyes. Both were breathing raggedly, their pupils dilated so as almost to hide the difference in the colours of their irises.

"Merlin, Harry, you're so hot."

Harry barked out a breathless laugh. "You're only just noticing?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

So Draco covered Harry's mouth with his own again, pressing his lover's back firmly against the wall, and pressing one thigh between the other man's parted legs. Harry moaned and rubbed himself against the firm leg muscle, causing Draco to echo the sound at the feeling of the hardness that was moving against him.

"Harry," he gasped as he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down the exquisite throat and back to the chest. He unwrapped his arms from Harry's waist as he moved, so he could keep progressing downwards, until he was kneeling before the only man he would deign to worship.

Draco placed a soft kiss next to the downy trail, just above the point where it disappeared into hidden territory. He unfastened Harry's belt and pulled it slowly from its loops, gently caressing the skin above it as he worked. Harry was squirming and moaning, arching his back to increase Draco's access.

Draco lightly stroked the front corners of Harry's pelvic bone, through the material of his trousers. Harry pressed into his hands, shifting left and right to try and find contact for the part of him that most needed Draco's touch.

Draco looked up into Harry's face. Harry was staring down, openmouthed and panting, chest heaving, eyes begging Draco for his favour.

Draco backed up for a moment and stood, smiling gently at the frantic look in Harry's eyes.

"Draco," pleaded Harry, pouring more lust into those two syllables than many poets have written in a lifetime.

Still smiling, Draco undid his own flies, dropped his trousers, and stepped out of them. He then slid away his silk boxers, leaving them in a pool on the ground.

He wanted them to be equal, after all, in everything but the ability to initiate touching.

Harry sighed when Draco knelt once more before him. Draco made quick work of divesting Harry of his remaining clothing. He glanced up for one more look before he continued.

Harry was still gazing down, looking at Draco as though he were the only person in the world. More than that, as if Draco were the world.

It was all Draco had ever wanted.

When Draco had brought Harry nearly to release, the chains broke open, charmed to do so when their captor's pulse was racing quickly enough. Harry dropped his arms, digging his fingernails into Draco's shoulders as he came into his lover's willing mouth.

Losing strength in his knees, Harry collapsed to the floor, falling into the circle of Draco's arms. Draco held him tightly, as awed as he had been the very first time, that Harry was really there with him.

As their breathing returned to normal, the two men lay together on the stone floor, entwined and exhausted. Draco ran his fingers lightly through Harry's hair.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Harry smiled and kissed him softly on the mouth. He didn't have to ask "For what?"