#chasing dragons

So I recently read Chasing Dragons 🐉 by @the-sinking-ship and it kinda fucking blew my mind?!? Jaded Healer Draco and BAMF Harry who rides motorcycles in black tie and rocks sex hair?? Yes fucking PLEASE.

Oh my god, dear sweet anon! I am sorry? I think? I mean that sounds like a really lovely dream. Especially if you got to read the fic / dream the fic in your sleep. But I’m sorry that you woke up and there was no new fic to read.

That really sounds like a good idea for a fic. I’m imagining some angsty and angry fucking and then some not-really-talking about feelings.

I too would like to read/dream this fic. If I didn’t have two WIPs that I’m working on already, I would write it. IN THE MEANTIME… someone else could write it and I would happily read it.

Cover art by my love, @fictional

Chasing Dragons

Author: The_Sinking_Ship (AO3) (Tumblr) Pairing: Draco/Harry Rating: E Wordcount: 99k Tags: fake/pretend relationship, enemies to lovers, Healer Draco, dragon tamer Harry, everyone is a total BAMF, and Harry rides a motorbike in a leather jacket, and Charlie Weasley is sexy af Collection: H/D Wireless 2021 @hd-wireless​

Summary:

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece.

But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite.

Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Notes:

This fic was based on a prompt by @ladderofyears for the song Bad Boyfriend by Garbage (anyone else have a teenage crush on Shirley Manson?!). It is my honour to gift this to such a fantastic writer and all-around lovely person.

BIG THANK YOU TO: my darling betas, @phenomenalasterisk and @hgh777​. My number one cheerleader and creator of my GORGEOUS fic cover, @fictional,​ and of course the Wireless Mods!

Chasing Dragons

The_Sinking_Ship @the-sinking-ship

Chapters: 15/15 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Charlie Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Healer Draco Malfoy, Dragon Tamer Harry Potter, magical creature sanctuary, Powerful Harry Potter, Powerful Draco Malfoy, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), BAMF Harry Potter, references to past Harry/Charlie, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Harry rides a motorbike, and wears a leather jacket, Blood and Injury, descriptions of medical emergencies, (but all characters end up fine!), Light D/s undertones, very light bondage (consensual), Anal Sex, Drinking, Switching, Pining, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Banter, Humor, Original Characters - Freeform, Happy Ending, H/D Wireless 2021, Jealousy, past infidelity (not between Harry and Draco)

Summary:

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Excerpt:

“Did you want a tour? I’m afraid the conservatory is still under construction and we’re remodelling the west wing,” Potter said with a smirk and crossed the room to the icebox. He fished out a couple of beers and offered one to Draco, tilting it in his direction with eyebrows raised in question.

Draco didn’t want another drink, already buzzed, but he stepped up to him, standing too close. He took one of the beer bottles from Potter’s hand, then the other, and set them both on the counter behind him. 

Potter’s eyes narrowed as Draco placed a hand on either side of Potter’s hips, fingers curled around the edge of the counter, caging him in. They stood that way for a moment, not touching, though it was a very near thing. But then Potter inhaled deeply, his chest puffing, brushing against Draco’s, and it was as if something in him broke, because Potter lunged forward, wrapping one hand around the back of Draco’s neck, crushing his mouth against Draco’s. 

Draco sucked in a breath and parted his lips, tilting his chin and slotting their mouths together. At that first wet brush of Potter’s tongue, Draco’s stomach pulled achingly tight, heat flooding his gut and spreading outward until even his fingertips tingled. Draco tightened his hold on the counter as he pressed forward, aligning their hips and swallowing Potter’s responding groan. 

Potter’s grip at the back of Draco’s neck was firm and unyielding, the tips of his fingers pressing into the notches of Draco’s spine, settling between the bones like they were made to rest there. There was no shyness in Potter’s kiss, no sweet swipes of tongue or teasing softness, but rather a ferocity, a growling hunger as he plunged his tongue past Draco’s lips, consuming him. 

It was less of a kiss and more of a war, a fight for dominance, and one that Draco very much intended to win. Draco relished the slick slide of his mouth against Potter’s already swollen lips, sucking his tongue when it pressed past his teeth. He let Potter have his way for a time, let him nip and bite, pressing back against all the places where Draco had him pinned. 

He hadn’t even touched Potter yet, hadn’t reached for flesh or pushed his hands beneath clothing, though he wanted to. He kept his hands on the counter, his knuckles bleached white from the effort. The kiss he returned was controlled; his tongue fucking into Potter’s mouth, slow and languid. He could feel Potter’s frustration and the tension building in his muscles. 

Potter’s hands dragged from Draco’s neck to the front of his shirt, gripping the collar in the hand of his uninjured arm. He crumpled the fabric in his fist, winding it around the back of his hand, and tugged sharply. Draco heard the seams creak, pulled to the point of tearing, and Draco’s hand flew up to stop him, fingers locking around Potter’s wrist in a punishing grip.

“Don’t you dare,” Draco growled against Potter’s lips, the bones in Potter’s wrist grinding beneath his fingers as he twisted Potter’s hand away. 

Potter smirked against his mouth, his tongue darting out to flick over Draco’s bottom lip, then his top, before curling back behind his teeth. “And if I do?”

Draco loosened his hold for barely half a second, just enough time to crank Potter’s arm behind him and pin it against his back. Potter hissed, eyes fluttering. “I like this shirt, I’ll not let you ruin it.”

But then Potter dropped his other hand and hooked two fingers into Draco's belt loop and tugged him closer, rocking his hips up so Draco could feel the substantial bulge in his jeans. The pressure against Draco’s aching cock lit a fire in his belly, and his control snapped like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point.

Draco relaxed his iron grip on the counter, half expecting to see indents left by his fingers, and plunged a hand into Potter’s hair, wrenching his head back to expose his throat. He sucked a mark into the skin, nipping at Potter’s jaw, scraping his teeth across the stubble, his tongue and mouth leaving wet trails in their path. He released Potter’s wrist and yanked aside the neck of his vest, sinking his teeth into the exposed and tender strip of flesh where Potter’s throat met his shoulder. Potter groaned, deep and low, his hips canting up, his cock grinding hard against Draco’s. 

Fuck, it was good.