The room smells of sex and vanilla, an intoxicating aroma that lingers even when they are elsewhere. It is a scent that haunts him as he hides in dirty alleys and crawls through the wet mud before an attack, when he lies wherever he’s made his bed for the night with one eye open, too scared to fully sleep anywhere else but here. Whenever things get to be too much for him, Draco can smell sex and vanilla in the air. It calms him, makes him focus, and he remembers what is waiting for him in this room.
With them, he forgets. He sheds his clothes by the door and steps into a world of debauchery and sensation where nothing exists but them. They are Granger and Potter always, in his mind and during the few times they speak within the confines of their own personal escape. They don’t usually waste time with words here, however. Words belong outside where the war rages on and hope often seems lost.
He forgets everything as he steps closer. There is no mark on his forearm, no blood on his hands, no fear that he won’t live to see another sunset or to taste Granger’s sweet cunt or to feel Potter deep inside him. He doesn’t think of his mother’s lifeless body surrounded by blood the same color that flows from the Muggles and Muggleborns that he finds dead during his days. He thinks only of Granger riding Potter, of the curve of Potter’s shoulder as he reaches up to lightly touch her hip, of the flush of their skin and the warmth of their bodies beneath his cool hands.
They will never be Harry and Hermione to him, not until this war is over and he knows it’s safe to actually care, to admit the weakness of emotion that leaves him confused and desperate to survive just to see what happens next. There is a chance they will never be anything more to him than escape, than warm bodies pressed close as they lose themselves in each other for a few brief moments of respite from the harsh cruelty of the war and the threat of death that hangs over them at all times.
There is an arrogant part of him that still exists beneath the bitter cynical man he has become and thinks of them as his. They are simply playthings to distract him from a world that is falling apart and becomes more dangerous as things escalate until he knows the end draws nearer with every passing day.
He watches them now as he steps closer, sees the way they touch and kiss and have silent conversations with just a meeting of gazes that he cannot, will not, ever understand. He knows, then, that he fools himself. They will only ever belong to each other and he is fortunate that they allow him to witness, to participate, to belong with them.
Draco crawls onto the bed behind her, his lips moving over her shoulder as his hands grip her tits. He tugs on her nipple and rubs his erection against her arse and back as he looks down and watches her ride Potter. Her arm reaches up, her fingers gripping his hair as he kisses her neck and shoulder. Rough fingertips move over his thigh and he shifts behind her so Potter can reach his cock. A glance up meets green eyes as long fingers begin to stroke his cock. Draco looks back down to watch them, moving his hand to where their bodies are joined. He rubs her clit as she bounces up and down, his fingers brushing over Potter’s wet cock every time she pulls up.
He has no idea how long they’ve been fucking before he got there but it doesn’t take long before Potter is gasping softly, a whisper of a moan as if he’s scared someone might hear him and come take everything he loves away from him. Potter spills inside her cunt, his skinny body shuddering as she keeps riding him until Draco pulls her off and pushes her back against the sheets.
Their kiss is brutal, fierce, and desperate as he enters her wet cunt in one deep thrust. Potter worships her, licking and teasing and caressing. Draco needs her, taking and squeezing and fucking so hard the air is filled with the sound of their bodies slapping against each other and her soft whimpers as he takes and gives until he forgets everything. A tongue on his arse makes him fuck deeper, fingers easing inside him make him tense, and she chuckles knowingly against his lips as Potter crooks his fingers and rubs right there.
His body stiffens but he refuses to surrender to her. She’ll come with him. He smirks against her breast as he licks and nibbles, giving her the rough that Potter never will. Her nails scratch his back as she urges him closer, meeting his thrusts eagerly as she grinds against him. He reaches between them, his fingers finding her sensitive clit, and he twists it hard as he fucks her faster and deeper until she clenches around him and whines deep in her throat.
He falls with her, arse gripping Potter’s fingers as he comes and comes until there’s nothing left except the sweet scent of sex and vanilla and warm bodies surrounding him and keeping him focused on a future that may never be but is worth the risk of staying alive.
The End