hp_bunintheoven

Title: The Swimmers Who Lived
Author:

enchanted_jae
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt: #S59
Summary: Harry Floos to Malfoy's hoping for a shag. He gets more than he bargained for.
Word Count: 1,695
Rating: PG13
Warnings/Contains: Mpreg, minor violence, sexual suggestion
Notes: What a fabulous prompt,

capitu! Thanks to

alisanne for looking this over for me.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

"Harder, Potter, harder!"

"Yeah, you love it when I pound you full of my cock, don't you, Malfoy?"

"Yes, yes, give it to me! More, more, more!"

Harry grinned and gave Malfoy more. He was fucking Malfoy on the Minister's desk, wondering what would happen if they got caught. As if conjured by the thought, the Minister was suddenly seated behind his desk. He was smiling and nodding, and judging by the way his arm was moving, the Minister was wanking himself to the show.

Harry doubled his efforts, hurtling towards orgasm, and hoping he'd get a promotion out of it, too...

Harry's eyes opened, and he blinked in the darkness. "Bloody hell," he swore, punching his pillow in frustration. That was one of the best dreams ever, but he'd woken up before he could climax.

"There goes my promotion, too," Harry muttered. He chuckled at himself and rolled over, hissing as the sheets dragged across his erect cock. Harry reached for himself, then hesitated. The Floo connection between his flat and Malfoy's was always open. Instead of a solitary wank, Harry could be experiencing the real thing in a matter of moments.

Minus the Minister's participation, of course.

Harry grimaced. Where had his subconscious dredged that up from? Shaking his head, he put his glasses on and got out of bed. He found his pants on the floor and stepped into them before making his way to the fireplace. Harry enlarged it with a spell and stepped inside. He grabbed a bit of powder and tossed it down, calling out Malfoy's address.

Harry stepped from the Floo and brushed ash from his hair. Malfoy's flat was only dimly illuminated by the light that seeped in from the windows, but Harry was familiar enough with the layout that he was able to navigate to Malfoy's bedroom with no trouble. As Harry pushed the door open, he heard an odd noise. He plucked his wand from the waistband of his pants and entered quietly. Harry noticed that the bed was empty, blankets flung aside, and there was a strip of light visible beneath the door to the en suite. While Harry was deciding between knocking at the door or simply burrowing into the bed, he heard the sound of retching.

Harry burst into the loo, finding Malfoy crouched in front of the toilet. He was disheveled and shivering. Harry crept closer. "Malfoy? Are you okay?"

Malfoy sneered at him from beneath his fringe. "You!" he spat. "This is your doing!"

Harry rocked back on his heels from Malfoy's vehemence, but before he could ask for clarification, Malfoy's body was wracked with another series of dry heaves.

"Malfoy?"

"Out," croaked Malfoy, waving Harry away.

Harry backed out reluctantly, closing the door behind him to give Malfoy some privacy. He wondered if he should leave or wait to see if Malfoy needed assistance. Harry decided to wait; he would make sure Malfoy was okay before he left. Harry's erection had subsided, but when he sat on the edge of the bed, Malfoy's scent surrounded him and brought Harry's cock back to aching life. He squirmed and pressed the heel of his hand against his groin as he sought to subdue his burgeoning arousal.

Harry leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. He heard the toilet flush, followed by water running. Soon after, Malfoy plodded out of the en suite, appearing wan and listless. Harry frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Color returned to Malfoy's face in a rush. "You bloody, buggering arsehole!" he raged, planting his hands on his hips as he leaned aggressively forward.

Harry shrank back. "Me?!" he squeaked.

"Yes, you! You and your randy cock and your ruddy little swimmers who lived to defeat the best contraceptive potions known, and your stupid hair, and your stupid scar, and...oh god, I'm ruined!"

Harry gaped at Malfoy as his tirade turned to a wail of anguish. His vitriol made no sense, and Harry wasn't up to sussing out what had Malfoy in such a strop. He stood up and approached his lover cautiously. Harry patted Malfoy's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Haven't you done enough already?!"

Harry was left with his mouth hanging open again. "Sorry?"

"Did you not hear a word I've said?"

Harry gulped. "Er, you're angry, and I'm to blame?"

"I'm pregnant, and you're to blame!"

Harry staggered back, hit the bed, and tumbled onto it. "P-pregnant?!" he wheezed.

"Yes, you arse!"

"But-but, we took precautions! Spermicidal lube!"

"Obviously, your ruddy little sperm are as immune to death as you are!" Draco fumed. As fast as his temper flared, he deflated. His shoulders slumped, and he flopped across his bed before dragging a pillow over his head.

"Should you be flinging yourself around like that?" Harry ventured. "It can't be good for the baby."

"Shut up and get out."

Harry patted Malfoy's back awkwardly. "Hey, don't be like that," he said. "I want to help you. I am going to help. After all, it's my baby, too. Wait, it is mine, isn't it?"

Malfoy moved so fast that Harry didn't have time to react before a fist crashed into the side of his face, knocking his glasses flying.

xXx

Harry lay still in the darkness, listening to Malfoy's even breathing. His arm, which cradled his volatile lover, was asleep, and his face was hot and aching where Malfoy had punched him. Harry had never been happier in his life. He was going to be a father. A dad! It was exciting and frightening and amazing.

Malfoy had a nicer flat; Harry reckoned he'd better plan on moving here. They should get married, too. He wanted the baby to have his name. Harry held his breath and waited for panic to set in at the prospect of being married. Instead, thinking about it calmed him. To be honest, Harry admitted to himself that he'd been harboring feelings for Malfoy for quite some time. Yeah, they'd kept this thing between them to occasional, casual sex, but the occasions had grown more and more prevalent. Harry had ceased looking to pull anyone else, for either sex or companionship. Malfoy was convinced the baby was his, which would mean he hadn't been catting around with anyone else. Perhaps it was time to make this relationship a permanent one.

The rhythm of Malfoy's breathing changed, and Harry felt him stir in his arms.

"You're still here."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I think we need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? I'm ruined."

"Not if we get married."

"Who said anything about marriage?!"

"I just did!" cried Harry.

"Then you get married, and leave me out of it!"

Harry dragged his arm out from under Malfoy and sat up. "That's ridiculous," he snapped.

"Yeah, well what if I don't want to marry you?" Malfoy countered. He sat up, too, and flicked the lamp on. "Why didn't you heal your face?"

"Stop trying to change the subject," said Harry. "Tell me why marriage to me would be so awful."

"You're a Gryffindor," said Malfoy, sneering as he did so. "Your hair is atrocious, and you have no fashion sense. Your friends are barbarians, and they hate me almost as much as my friends hate you."

"There's nothing wrong with being a Gryffindor," said Harry. "My hair is...well, I can't help my hair. As for my fashion sense, I reckon I could let you pick out some clothing for me. Our friends can learn to tolerate our relationship. Besides, the fact that we're going to have a child together takes precedence over our friends' opinions."

Malfoy plumped his pillows and flounced back against them. "You don't really want to marry me, Potter," he said. "Your only concern is the baby."

"I'm not going to deny that the baby is a very big concern," Harry said. "However, I do want to marry you. You're intelligent, fierce, and snarky. You can even be charming on occasion. Plus, you're a sexy beast in bed."

A grin tried to tug at Malfoy's lips, and he frowned to cover it. "I may be a sexy beast now, but I'm going to get fat."

"I can't wait to see your stomach get round with our baby," said Harry, daring to scoot closer. He laid his palm on Malfoy's stomach and stroked him with his fingertips. "If your bum gets a little rounder, I'll enjoy that, too."

"I don't want to be pregnant," Malfoy whined. He hadn't pushed Harry's hand away, however, which Harry took as a good sign. "My father is going to kill me," Malfoy added.

"He isn't going to kill you," Harry said. "You're carrying his heir."

Malfoy cut him a glance. "He'll kill you, for sure."

"Not if I make an honest man out of you."

"Marriage," groaned Malfoy. "Mum will want to turn it into the social event of the decade."

"Let's elope," said Harry. He sat up when Malfoy sneered at him. "No, think about it," he insisted. "We'll skive off and get married. We can go to Gretna Green; it's traditional, yeah? We'll get married, hole up in a hotel room and shag for several days, then return and take out a full-page announcement in the Prophet."

Malfoy smiled and then began to laugh. "Don't you think we should notify our families and friends before we announce it to the public at large?"

Harry scrunched down and gathered Malfoy close. "Yeah, that would probably be best," he conceded.

"Everyone is going to be furious," Malfoy said, sighing even as he curled closer to Harry.

"They'll get over it," said Harry. "Especially when they see how adorable our babies are."

"Babies?"

"Of course," said Harry. "I think we should have at least five or six children."

"What?!"

Harry turned and draped a leg over Malfoy's, fitting their lower bodies together. "Imagine all the fun we'll have making them, yeah?"

"I-I suppose so, yes," Malfoy murmured, arching into Harry.

"Yes to...?" prompted Harry.

"Yes, to all of it," Malfoy replied. "Now kiss me, you wanker."