by FearlessDiva

Candles flickered and music played softly as Draco led Harry into the bedroom.

"Roxy Music?" Harry laughed. "That's a little cliched, isn't it?"

"Shut up," Draco cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "I like it. You're going to like it, too. You'll see."

He pulled Harry over to the bed, where a set of black leather manacles were lying, already attached with a short chain and a padded loop around each of the bedposts at the headboard.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Draco asked seriously.

"Yes. It's a good test of my control. I think we should."

"All right. Undress."

Harry did as he was asked. It was a little embarrassing that he was hard already, just from the anticipation, but Draco didn't tease him, only gave him an appreciative look and a smile. Draco took a small, ornate gold cup from the nightstand and handed it to Harry. "I've added a sensory enhancer to try to overcome some of the deadening effects of the magic inhibitor. It adds a sort of narcotic effect, though, a bit like Muggle Ecstasy. I could have cut it down a bit, but when I tested it I rather liked it, so I left it the way it was. This will completely inhibit your ability to do magic for at least four hours, if it works as it is designed to. Do you consent?"


Draco handed Harry the cup and Harry drank it down. It tasted like grass and floor polish and fizzed like champagne. Harry made a face and handed the cup back to Draco, who put it back on the nightstand.

"It takes about ten minutes to kick in. Lie back." Harry did so, and Draco gently took his right wrist and buckled a leather cuff around it. Then he did the left, and moved down to Harry's ankles.

"Do you really have to do my feet, too?"

"Yes. I want you immobilized."

Harry shivered. "When are you going to take off your clothes?"

"In a moment." He buckled a manacle to Harry's right ankle, attached with a chain to the bottom of the bed frame, and then went around to fasten the left. When he was finished, Harry was more or less spread-eagle on the bedspread, with just a little bit of give in the tethers but not enough to hit or kick hard enough to do any damage. Draco looked him over with a hungry spark in his eye. "You look good like that. All trussed up and helpless. I've always liked you helpless. It happens so infrequently."

Harry shivered again, and Draco took a white sheet from where he'd set it on a bedroom chair, unfolded it and draped it over Harry. It was a soft, luxurious Egyptian cotton, a sheet worthy of the skin of a Malfoy. Harry had become very attached to his sensual luxuries in the last three years.

"You look like a Greek god with that sheet draped over you," he whispered into Harry's ear. "Prometheus, bound." He leaned down to kiss him, and rubbed against his thigh as he did so. The friction sent tingles zinging along Harry's skin.

"Mmm, I think it's starting to work."

"Good." Draco kissed him hungrily for a while longer, and with each passing second Harry's skin seemed to get more sensitive, while at the same time he began feeling curiously detached from everything.

Draco sat back. "How do you feel?"

"Like I can feel everything, and like I can't feel anything at all."

"That's the expected reaction. The magical inhibitor breaks your magical connection with the world, which you don't usually notice because it's always there. So you feel detached from everything in almost a subconscious way, but the sensory enhancer is making your body more sensitive. You'll get used to it after a few minutes and it won't feel quite so odd." He kissed him again, and Harry felt himself bucking into Draco, trying to get more of him on his skin. Draco laughed. "Yes, I'd say it's working. Try to do something magically."

Harry tried to unbuckle the manacles, but nothing happened. "I'm cut off," Harry said, and found himself more distressed by it than he had anticipated. "You're sure this stuff will wear off."

Draco gave him a dangerous smile. "It's a little late to be double checking now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." He knew Draco had tested the stuff himself and hadn't suffered any ill effects, but still. It was disconcerting.

"Don't worry. In a moment you'll be too distracted to be bothered by it anymore."

Draco licked his neck and Harry shuddered. "Jesus. That's good. Amazing. Do it again." Draco complied and Harry felt like all his blood was pooling between his legs. He felt dizzy. He felt like he could come just from Draco licking his neck. "Jesus," he repeated.

"Good, hm?" Draco sounded extremely well-pleased with himself. "I could make a fortune on the black market with this. Of course, I have a fortune already so it would be redundant. I am a potions genius."

"Mm-hmmm," Harry could only agree, as Draco licked down his chest. "You're all kinds of genius." Draco bit at a nipple and Harry cried out quietly. "God, if you do that again I think I'm going to come."

"Maybe we should take the edge off." And he slid down further, moving the sheet out of the way with one hand as he went, and the fabric brushing against Harry's skin made him moan. When Draco's mouth engulfed him, he bucked and came immediately with a gasp and extended shudders which seemed to last far longer than usual.

"Oh," Harry whispered as he collapsed back down into the soft duvet. "Oh, Draco. Feels so good. Still. Touch me."

Draco ran his long, graceful fingers along Harry's arm and Harry's eyes closed in delight. "You are so high," he laughed before he kissed him again. "Try again. Something really simple, like Lumos."

Harry opened his right hand, tried to focus the magic he couldn't feel, said, "Lumos." Nothing happened.

Draco nodded. "All right. I'm satisfied that you're completely cut off. Are you ready for me to go get him?"


Draco pulled the sheet back up and Harry hummed happily as the fabric brushed against him. As Draco passed the cd spinning on the table he waved his hand and the volume increased a bit, then he walked out of the room. In the absence of other stimuli, the music washed over Harry. He could almost feel it on his skin. He stirred, began to grow hard again, hoped that Draco and their guest, whoever he was, wouldn't take too long. He saw what Draco meant now when he'd said Harry would like the music too. He wondered where he'd been when Draco had tested the formula, and why he hadn't gotten to watch. He imagined Draco in his workroom, slowly becoming more and more aroused as the potion took effect, beginning to rub himself through his work robes, and then reaching inside to stroke himself . . .

God, he really hoped they got back soon.

He shook the manacles, testing them out of curiosity. The leather rubbed against his wrists deliciously, but the chains seemed very firm. He shook them again just for the feeling of it. His moan vibrated in his throat and sent tingles of pleasure all through him. He was once more achingly hard. How long could it take to go downstairs and fetch one person?

The whole point of the exercise was to test Harry's ability to control himself in the face of jealous rage, but Harry was beginning to feel that he'd be happy for anything to happen as long as someone, anyone, touched him. He wasn't feeling exactly jealous at the moment. Desperate, yes. Jealous, no.

And then Draco walked in and Harry saw who he was leading by the hand. And it was like flipping a switch. He could barely feel his body anymore. The delicious sensations of his nervous system were remote; all he could feel was the hot anger surging through him.

"You remember Eliot, don't you Harry?" Draco asked playfully, but with a glitter of cruelty in his eyes. He turned and kissed the man, who hadn't grown any less gorgeous in the last three years. Kissed him deep, and Eliot melted into him like it was the most spectacular kiss he'd ever had.

Harry could feel tiny sparks of magic starting to float around him, sucked into being by the power of his black jealousy. He opened his right hand and the power slowly, slowly began to gather itself.

Draco felt the shift in the air and turned to bark at him. "Harry! You wanted to do this, you wanted to test yourself. Well, this is the test. Get a grip."

His words broke through the blind fury like a cold splash of water, but it took every ounce of will for Harry to push the rage aside. He brought every bit of self-mastery he'd learned in the last three years to bear, and after a tense moment, the magic was gone.

"Better." Draco nodded. He turned back to Eliot. "Eliot, we've discussed this once but I want to go over it again for clarification, and so Harry may witness. As you can see, Harry is securely bound. He's also taken an experimental potion that inhibits magic use. It should prevent him from accessing magic at all, but evidently with enough anger behind him, he's still drawing down some power. It's nothing close to what he can access most of the time, but Harry is a very powerful wizard. Even a fraction of his usual abilities could be dangerous. He's also got serious problems controlling his negative emotions, due to metaphysical damage. He's extremely jealous of you, which is one of the reasons that I approached you with this proposition in the first place. I am reasonably certain that we'll both be safe. But I can't make a one hundred percent guarantee. Do you consent?"

Eliot licked his lips and looked Harry over with a proprietary eye. "Yes."

"The potion also has sensory enhancement and euphoric properties. Harry's pretty high right now, so you should keep that in mind."

"Oh, I will," Eliot murmured. Harry couldn't decide if he found that predatory look exciting or infuriating. He shook the manacles in frustration, but it only shot pleasure through him. Now that the black rage was receding, his body's signals were beginning to register again.

Draco looked back and forth between them, with a smugness that Harry suddenly wanted to wipe off his face. He looked like he couldn't be more pleased with his lot in life. His eyes in the candlelight were dark, flat slate, his pupils wide with arousal and adrenaline. There was a cruel curve to his lips that reminded Harry of Lucius, or that first night in the alley when Draco had been both vicious and frightening. Harry shivered, the anger flowing farther back, but even the shiver was translated into pleasure. The ache between his legs returned and his back arched a little of its own accord.

Draco swallowed and cleared his throat. "Eliot. If you'd be so kind. Kiss him."

"My pleasure." Eliot crossed the room with a jaguar's stalk and climbed across the bed more gracefully than anyone Harry had even seen save Draco himself. Harry was furious that Draco had just given him to Eliot, but he was so aroused at the same time. Eliot was beautiful, that was always the problem with him. He was a better match for Draco than Harry was, in so many ways. But now, Eliot was coming to claim him, not Draco, and his body was singing its acceptance. Eliot straddled Harry's waist and leaned down to kiss him and it tasted horribly sweet. Harry's hips lifted up to brush against Eliot's ass and God, did it feel good, even with the layers of sheet and clothes between them. Eliot broke away and licked his lips lasciviously. He laughed and swung himself off of Harry and back off the bed, sauntering over to Draco like a conquering hero. "Mmm, Draco," his voice carried just over the sliding tones of the music, sin wrapped in velvet. "Your boy couldn't be finer, do you know that? Finely sculpted, finely tuned. Gorgeous." He hung an arm over Draco's shoulders, entirely too familiar for Harry's taste, and they both seemed to consider Harry.

"Power, beauty and nobility, all in one package," Draco agreed. "Most of the time. Feeling a little short on nobility this evening, aren't we, Harry? And a little short on power, too, I'm guessing. Still beautiful, though. Even more beautiful all helpless and moaning like that."

"I want to see all of him," Eliot's whisper was carefully pitched to reach Harry's ears. Harry rattled the chains in frustration, which only made him harder. "May I? Remove the sheet?"

"What do you say, Harry? This is your last chance to back down. How much jealousy and pleasure can you stand? Do you consent?"

"Fucking Death Eater son of a bitch. Channel your inner sadist and then say I'm lacking nobility! How much coke did you do before you brought him in here?"

But Draco just looked him over and smiled at him with the clearest, cruellest intentions. "My goodness. Such vitriol! I think that deserves a punishment, don't you, Eliot?" Eliot's agreement sparkled in his eyes, and Draco leaned over and kissed him. Wet, long, scorchingly hot. Draco at his most seductive, and Harry ached and arched and burned in his chains.

"Besides, Harry," the low drawl continued. "You of all people should know that I don't have to be coked up to be sadistic. Now, perhaps you would like to answer the question. Do you consent? Or should I send Eliot away and let you stew until the potion wears off in about, oh, three and a half hours?"

The part of him that wanted to tear them both limb from limb fought with the part of him that just wanted someone to touch him. Eliot was beautiful, and he and Draco together were the sharpest, most stunning torture. Harry was dizzy and desperate and whatever shreds of sanity that were still left in him wanted to conquer this. He wanted to be able to withstand the harshest temptation and not allow the darkness to swallow him up.

"I consent," he growled.

"Excellent," Eliot rumbled, and started back across the room. He didn't climb onto the bed this time, though. He just took hold of the sheet and lifted it off with a little flourish, like a Muggle magician revealing the trick. He dropped it onto the floor and sighed. "God. Beautiful."

Draco began to cross the room himself, unbuttoning his white Muggle shirt as he went. He was pushing it off his shoulders by the time he reached the foot of the bed, and unzipped his trousers immediately. He wasn't wearing any underpants, and he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. All his clothes hit the floor in an uncharacteristically messy heap and he was totally, stunningly naked. His skin glowed in the candlelight in that way it had, like it was polished, and his hair shone. Harry wasn't even aware of Eliot any more, only Draco. And that's how it had been, for the last three years. Every time the light hit Draco's hair, Harry fell in love all over again.

It seemed to shoot right through him, sizzling over his skin, and Draco was suddenly there, kneeling next to him on the bed. Kissing him, tracing his fingers over Harry's cheekbones. Murmuring in his ear, "Don't be afraid, Harry. It's you I love. Always. Always. Just let go. Surrender."

Harry arched up, shuddering in pleasure at Draco's soft voice in his ear, trying to get closer to him. Draco gentled him down to the bed, stroking him everywhere but where he most wanted it, though every touch ran passion through him like electrical current. He lay there floating on the storm of sensation with closed eyes, until he realized he was feeling two sets of hands on him, and he looked down to find Eliot, now divested of his clothes as well, with his hands roaming in concert with Draco's.

His orgasm hit without warning, and he cried out wordlessly as the two men continued stroking him through it. When he collapsed back shaking, Draco kissed him for a few moments, and then sat back with a wry grin.

"And that was with a blow job beforehand," he said to Eliot. Eliot kept petting Harry's face, and neck and shoulders, though it felt less torturously sexual now, more pleasantly sensual.

"My God, what did you give him?" he asked.

"I told you. A potion of my own devising. I, my dear Eliot, am a potions genius."

"Arrogant and sadistic," Harry murmured in a voice so low he could barely hear it himself. But both men laughed.

"Eliot," Harry could hear the wickedness in Draco's smile without opening his eyes. He was practically purring. "Do you realize how beautiful you and Harry look together?"

"Like a matched set, I'd think. You only fucked me because I look like him, I realized it the moment I set eyes on him at that goddamn party." But Eliot didn't sound upset. His voice was languid with banked desire, the sound of a man who wanted but was willing to bide his time.

"Not only because. Partially, I will admit, but you're a beauty in your own right. So lovely, the pair of you." Draco's words floated over Harry and he knew there was a point when his lover paying compliments to another man, to his rival Eliot of all people, would have upset him. The anger was still there, somewhere, in the back of his mind, but it couldn't get its claws into him. "Will you indulge me?" Draco asked, and Harry wasn't sure who he was addressing.

"What would you like me to do?" Eliot's voice was temptation wrought into sound, the embodiment of every fantasy held out for the taking.

"Kiss him." The sheer want wound into Draco's tone began stirring tendrils of heat through Harry again. He couldn't imagine how he could find the energy for another go, but there it was. Sensory enhancement? Aphrodisiac, more like. And then Eliot's lips were on his and thought vanished.

The only man Harry had ever kissed was Draco. Now that he wasn't nearly spitting with fury, Harry could pay attention to the differences in their lips, in the way the heat pooled low in his belly in a different way, with less emotion but stirring no less physical need. He heard Draco humming, groaning low, and it spurred his sluggish, post-orgasmic blood in his veins. He felt himself growing hard, impossibly, again. He wanted to fist a hand into Eliot's hair, feel those dark tendrils curling around his fingers in place of the blond wisps, but of course his hands were still bound.

He felt Draco's breath in his ear. "You're so hot together. My own private harem of stunning black-haired boys. I want to watch him fuck you. Say yes, Harry. I was going to make you watch me with him, try to drive you wild, see how well your control could hold, but you look so beautiful together. I want to watch you give it up beneath him. I want to sit across the bed and see that haunted, vacant look in your eyes right before you come. I want to see you, Wizarding's Saviour, thoroughly debauched, moaning like a whore under another man because I asked it. Harry, say yes."

Eliot, who had undoubtedly heard every word as well, pulled back and regarded Harry with eyes like endless pools of need.

"Yes," Harry gasped. "Yes. Yes."

Draco's eyes glowed with lust. "Yes."

Eliot reached over and cupped a hand around Draco's cheekbone. "You direct me, your voice in my ear while I fuck him. Tell me how good it looks, how hot it makes you."

"Fuck, yes," Draco breathed. He leaned over and kissed Eliot, and if some part of Harry ached, the beauty of it was also awe-inspiring. Harry wondered if he and Draco looked that amazing when they kissed, and then they broke apart and both looked down at him with such wanton ownership, Harry wondered if he'd survive the night. Dead by sexual bliss with two fit men in your bed wasn't such a bad way to go. He just hoped they'd remember to untie his body before the journalists got there.

Draco scooted up to rest against the headboard, Harry's arm against his lower back. "Eliot. Touch Harry. All over. Kiss him, lick him, rub yourself against him. See how gorgeous he is? He's at your mercy. Take advantage of him."

"Mmm, yes. God, yes." Eliot settled himself between Harry's spread legs, and began kissing his way down Harry's neck, creating just enough friction with his cock to make Harry feel like his bones were melting out of him. "Look at Draco, Harry," Eliot said between kisses. "Have his eyes gone flat grey, is he so hard he can hardly stand it? Does he have that hungry look in his eye?" Jealousy sparked, that Eliot knew Draco's expressions in extremis so well, but Harry did as he was told.

"Yes," he answered, with a hitch in his voice. "He looks like he wants to devour us." And Harry arched against Eliot's lean, smooth body, because it was so sexy, so wrong, to see that look in Draco's eye because of what he and Eliot were doing. He was so hard, and Eliot's skin felt so good on him. "Tell us, Draco. I want to hear it, too."

"Oh," Draco's stuttering breath made Harry jerk against Eliot. Harry closed his eyes, but he could feel Draco's left hand reaching down to stroke himself. "It's like," he laughed, "it's like a dream come true." And Harry laughed too, shaky like Draco's laugh, the two of them sharing a joke they couldn't explain. "Fuck, it's so hot. Your face is so flushed, Harry, from coming so much tonight, all the blood right up under your skin. Gorgeous. Wanton. And Eliot's all ebony and parchment cream above you. His eyes are gleaming blue in the candlelight, and he wants you so much, Harry. He'd do anything to have you now, I can see it in his face. It isn't me he wants, it's you." And Draco stopped stroking and waved his hand. The nightstand drawer popped open and the vial of lubricant flew right into his palm.

Eliot looked up and his eyes widened. "I've seen Janie do things like that but never without a wand."

"Harry's been teaching me a few things." He handed Eliot the vial. "Prepare him. Get him slick. He's going to writhe under your fingers like a snake. Look at his eyes, see how they almost glow, how green they shine? He's so ready for you."

Eliot groaned. "Jesus Christ." He poured the lubricant into his hands and then began, and Harry nearly came right away.

He arched up off the bed but gasped, "Don't stop. More. Keep going, God, yes."

And so Eliot continued, while Draco's smooth, cultured voice kept up a running commentary about how fast Eliot should move his fingers, how hard he should stroke, how hot the sight of them together was. It wasn't long before Draco put a hand on Eliot's shoulder to stop him.

"Now. Slick yourself."

Eliot's breath was coming in shallow pants. "Condom."

"There are spells -"

"I'd rather have a condom, if it's all the same to you."

Harry didn't need to look up to know which expression of wry amusement was crossing Draco's face. "Fine," he said. There was a sound of crinkling plastic and Harry knew Draco must have conjured one, wandlessly, because they didn't keep them in the house. Draco was getting very good indeed with the wandless magic.

Eliot opened the package and slid it on, and Harry didn't open his eyes because he knew if he saw Draco with his hand on his cock it would be all over. And he wanted to put on a show. Eliot kissed him and guided himself in, and sensation caught in Harry and spread all over his skin, a blaze that deepened into a conflagration when Eliot started moving.

"Yes, harder, fuck him harder, Eliot. Deeper. Tell him how you love it, Harry."

Harry's eyes snapped open and caught Draco's gaze. "Oh. Can't. No words, like having sex all over my body -" and his voice devolved into a hissing gasp, and then he was coming like fireworks although no one had touched his cock at all.

Harry's sharp climax dragged Eliot over the edge, who cried out and shook for what seemed like forever before he collapsed onto Harry, sticky and spent.

Harry drifted off for a few moments, and then Eliot moved and woke him. Draco handed Eliot a flannel, and he cleaned himself and then Harry off, though Harry was hardly aware of it.

Eliot laid down on Harry's left side, and Draco on Harry's right, both snuggled into him close enough that he didn't need the sheet. But Harry could feel Draco's erection against his thigh, and knew that this was only a breather. Though he really didn't think he was up for another go. Even Draco's potions brilliance could only do so much.

Eliot leaned over to kiss Harry gently, then whispered. "I think your man is going to fuck me through the mattress in a few minutes. Is that okay with you?"

A tight knot of jealousy formed in Harry's stomach, but after a few moments, after a few breaths, he watched it dissolve. "I hope so. Yes."

Draco leaned over and kissed Harry, gentle and comforting. "How are your arms holding up?" he asked.

"I'm okay. Go have your fun and then you can let me go. If I don't spontaneously combust."

Draco kissed Harry again, steamier this time. "Harry," he whispered into Harry's neck. "I'm so hard. The two of you together was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Like a poem, a prayer to blood." He rubbed against Harry's thigh, leaving a little trail of sensation. "I want you to watch me with Eliot. Watch how his face opens up when he comes. Watch how he sweats. Watch how my eyes go wide just before I go over the edge, and it won't be exactly the way it is with you. But it will be lovely, I think, if you can see it with your blood and sweat and skin instead of with your darkness."

If Harry had an ounce of energy left, that little speech would have gotten him boiling. But as it was, it was enough to subdue the beast of envy, and nudge him to watch with interest as Draco crawled across to attend to Eliot.

He kissed him, blond and black hair tangling at the fringe. Then he murmured, "Harry's watching us, Eliot. I'm going to fuck you so hard, and Harry's going to be watching every second of it." Harry could see Eliot's pupils dilate, and he could see what Draco saw, the beauty, the sheer sexiness of it. Draco kissed and licked and rubbed and Harry could see that they were stunning together. He wanted to crawl across to them and get in the middle of it, just to touch them while they did things he was too spent to consider.

Draco slid down and began licking and sucking a surprisingly responsive Eliot into readiness, then he conjured another condom and found the vial of lubricant. As Draco's fingers moved, Harry could feel that feeling of disconnection start to go away, suddenly he could feel the bed beneath him, in his head, or his gut, or some way besides just his skin. The darkness was there, waiting, like it always was, but it wasn't overwhelming him. Draco and Eliot were giving off so much light. He could feel the manacles around his wrists and he knew with just a little flick they'd unbuckle themselves and he could reach over to touch Eliot, to kiss Draco. So he did it. He unfastened the ankle restraints the same way, and he was across the bed to them before they even realized it.

Draco's eyes were more than a little frightened, but Harry shushed him. "It's all right. The potion wore off early, but I'm okay. I just need to touch you. Please?"

Draco looked at Eliot, who nodded, and Draco gave Harry a tender kiss. "Of course." He rolled Eliot over a little bit to make more room, and Harry laid down on his side beside them, touching them both. Draco put the condom on and slipped the vial into Harry's hand.

"Put this on me, love?"

Harry smiled sleepily and did as he was asked. Draco's eyes closed rapturously when Harry's fingers slid along him.

"I could come just from you doing that, I've been waiting so long tonight."

Eliot laughed and used his legs to pull Draco into him, guiding him with one hand. He moaned as Draco settled in. "Jesus, that's good."

Harry reached up to kiss him as Draco set a gentle pace to start, but couldn't hold it for long.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I have, I have to -" He started moving faster, cursing and clutching Harry's arm as need overtook him and rode him hard.

Eliot gasped encouragement, and Draco thrust harder until his climax shook through him. His eyes were wide and unfocused, until his gaze landed on Harry and he smiled. He collapsed on Eliot for a moment, using one hand to stroke Eliot's thigh while the other ran through Harry's hair. After a minute's rest, he slid down and Eliot soon completed the exhausted set. Draco crawled up the length of the bed to lay on the other side of Harry. Eliot leaned down and got the sheet from the floor and draped it over the three of them before he spooned into Harry's side. He sighed happily.

"This was the best fucking night of my life."

Draco chuckled low in his throat and pressed a kiss onto Harry's forehead, and Harry was floating and the darkness seemed very far away, and as he let sleep swallow him up, he realized, he felt free.


Author's Note: Thanks to: A.J. Hall and kebbo for corrective commentary; FayJay for inspiration and being my partner in perv.

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