Start the Chase
Drarry | 4,015 words | Explicit | Kinktober 2018 Day 1: Masks + Deepthroating
Excerpt below, read the full fic on AO3
Harry liked to tell himself he didn’t do things like this often. He liked to pretend he wasn’t a rotten liar too. But the fact of the matter was, charity balls were incredibly dull and they made him incredibly uncomfortable, but not going was even worse. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone off and done something he shouldn’t have. Done someone he shouldn’t have.
And really, having it splashed all over the papers should have stopped him by now.
But this time, this time he was wearing a mask. And so was the other man. This time there was a chance it wouldn’t get out. He could fool around without his name hanging over his head, and he was already firming up in his pants just from that thought alone.
The other man lead him out of the ballroom. The music and chatter faded away as he took him deeper into the manor house hosting the event. It was like he knew his way around, had been there before, but Harry tried not to think about that. The owner only had daughters, so he probably wouldn’t be able to identify him that way anyway.
And he didn’t want to.
There was an ache in his pants and an attractive arse leading the way, and thank Merlin for whoever started the trend of more muggle-like formal wear instead of robes that hid everything. That was all that mattered now. And for once, he wouldn’t be shamed for it in the papers in the morning.
The masks only covered the upper half of their faces, and the man stopped abruptly in a shadowy corridor to turn and kiss him. Harry leaned into it and backed him up against the wall. Excitement skittered through his veins. Most of the men he found himself with at events were strangers anyway, but the mask seemed to make it better. That nervous, doing-something-wrong feeling he got when he fucked strangers was stronger than ever.
It was not a thing he should indulge in, he knew, and a bad attitude to have towards sex in the first place. It was also risky and self-destructive. But he couldn’t help himself. He just got so bored.
Impulse control had never been one of his talents.