IV

Moving very slowly, Harry shuffled to the place between the Dark Lord's thighs.

With a nervous smile on his lips he tentatively put his hands on the shins of the man in front of him, who shuddered at the touch, but made a visible effort to stay put, only gnawed lip demonstrating his displeasure.

Harry glided his hands along the legs of Voldemort, until he caught on the hem of half-raised robe and froze, not daring to lift it higher.

"That's okay," Harry muttered softly, when he felt a miniscule tremble shake Voldemort's body. His hands not moving an inch from their place at Voldemort's legs, Harry carefully lowered his upper body to come face to face with the Dark Lord. The man was grimacing slightly, chewing on his own lip in nervous gesture. "I will not do anything you do not want me to do," Harry promised almost into this twitching mouth, then suddenly turned, so their cheeks were touching slightly, and rubbed against the Dark Lord's face, sensing, that Voldemort's cheek heated under his own. "You've said no kissing, or – ?" he clarified.

Instead of verbal answer Voldemort sighed quietly and crashed his lips with Harry's in a rough kiss. Harry felt the man's tongue, violently roaming in his mouth, exploring it, trying to conquer Harry's own. He shuddered uncontrollably, before collecting himself and remembering, that he should be doing something, too.

While they were kissing Harry glided his hands higher, under the Dark Lord's robe, unnoticed to them both. Now he was feeling the hot skin of Voldemort's upper thighs with ghost hints of touches, dragging loud sighs and more shudders from the man, who was continuing to ravish his mouth between low sobs.

Several minutes passed with them kissing, Harry's hands lying flat on Voldemort's hips after the first few tentative touches.

'Children are not made with kissing,' Voldemort whispered in Harry's mind with a hint of mirth to his mental tone.

'No laughing, remember,' Harry reminded him. Then removed his hands from under Voldemort's robe and got to unbuttoning his own clothes, locking his intense gaze with the Dark Lord's glassy one.

Voldemort brought his hands up and softly took Harry's palms in his big hands, stopping him in his actions.

"Allow me," he hissed in snake-language, smirking suavely, when seeing Harry shudder at the sounds, the boy's gaze becoming clouded with dawning desire. Working very slowly, the Dark Lord undid all the small buttons at the upper part of Harry's robe, stopping at his waist, Voldemort's eyes never releasing Harry's.

Harry brought his hands to Voldemort's collar and froze, uncertain, without touching the man's clothes, with a question in his eyes.

"Yess," Voldemort let out sibilantly, "You may undress me, Harry."

Harry startled at hearing his name in Parseltongue, the snake-language somehow making it sound both sexual and eerie at the same time. He put his hands down on Voldemort's chest with a sense of finality and started to undress the man, at the same time, as he was undressed by him, both of their actions reflected as if in a mirror: Harry working on one button of the Dark Lord's robe, and Voldemort doing the clasp on his, then their hands simultaneously drawing the edges of clothes to the sides, unveiling the naked skin underneath, and going down to the next button.

When at last both of their robes were undone, their bare chests and abdomens almost touching, but not quite, Harry took the initiative back to himself and pinned the Dark Lord to the ground, kissing him hard, hands roaming his chest in gliding motions, touching lightly, slightly scraping with his nails across cool skin, feeling the muscles of Voldemort's chest and abdomen twitching and tightening under his careful touch. Harry shuddered, when felt Voldmeort's hands go up his back to his shoulders and clutching them, bringing Harry closer.

'Okay?' Harry tried to decipher the mixed sensations and emotions, he was getting through their mental link from Voldemort.

"Yessss – " Voldemort hissed into his mouth with a feeling. "Continue – "

Harry's hands found the Dark Lord's nipples, he bended and shifted his knee to open up Voldemort's legs more, but he stopped all he was doing, sensing a sudden change in the man's mood.

'Should I stop?'

'No.'

'Then what's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

Harry sighed quietly and looked into clouded red eyes for confirmation. He found none, the face in front of him closing off completely, so he carefully untangled his limbs and removed himself from Voldemort's unmoving body, sitting up on his knees between the partner's parted legs, not touching him anywhere.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort snapped irritated.

"Trying to be a gentleman," with a crooked smirk responded Harry. "I feel you in my mind. You don't really like it any better, than I do. We should stop this farce now, before the Death comes laughing his head off at our efforts."

"No, I think we need to continue," retorted Voldemort.

Harry rolled his eyes at him.

"Didn't you hear me? I feel your emotions! I know you hate this. I am not a rapist, either. And besides, I hardly know what I am doing, and you are not helping!" he pointed accusing finger at the Dark Lord.

"Could it be that you are simply scared?" Voldemort raised a suggesting brow and smirked mockingly.

"I am not scared!" Harry exclaimed indignantly.

"Are you sure?" the Dark Lord drawled silkily.

Next second Harry was on Tom, kissing him with a growl, biting his lips furiously and moving his hands haphazardly over Tom's naked upper torso, stroking, squeezing and scratching skin violently, his nails catching on Tom's nipples again, but this time Harry didn't stop, instead pinching one of them and twisting it, dragging a low moan out of Tom's snarling mouth, locked with his own tightly, their tongues intertwined, Harry's other hand shooting immediately upwards, him grabbing Tom by his hair and tilting his head roughly to get to his neck with his lips and teeth. Tom's original tension lessened gradually, and Harry finally found himself positioned comfortably between his legs, one of his knees slightly upper then the other, rubbing against half-erect member, still humbly covered with the corner of the Dark Lord's robe, the most part of which was already in tightly tangled knot, squeezed between their lower bodies, pressed together squarely.

Tom's hands were all over Harry, too, gliding up and down, his nails digging painfully into smooth skin, his pinches and squeezes leaving bruises on their way across Harry's torso. He was moaning wantonly into Harry's mouth one moment, and the next – his teeth were leaving marks on the boy's neck, collarbone and shoulders, mirroring Harry's actions.

Harry found himself grinding shamelessly into his partner's pelvis with loud groans, Tom swearing hoarsely at this and trying to press into him in response and recoil from the offending and uncomfortable touch at the same time with small keening sounds of distress interfering his moans of pleasure.

They fell apart after several long minutes, panting and, in the case of Voldemort, cursing like a sailor in several languages, including Parseltongue. Harry managed to add couple of words of his own choice in hoarse hiss, dragging a hand through his wet hair, which were even more tangled than usual, and trying to righten his undone clothes. Voldemort was reclining back on his elbows in half-sitting position, squinting his eyes lazily at Harry, who was still remaining seated on his knees between his parted legs.

"What was it?" Harry asked with suspicion.

"Whatever do you mean?" with an innocent look asked Voldemort, smiling with a hint of mockery.

"That was – intense – ?" replied Harry, unsure.

"Hmm," Voldemort responded non-committally.

"Not like me, really," Harry continued perceptively. Than his eyes narrowed at Voldemort. "Was it your doing?"

"Why do you say so?"

Harry huffed in irritation.

"You are something! I am certain that was your doing, don't try to dodge! That's cheating!"

"I am an expert at cheating Death!" Voldemort responded haughty. "That's like my ultimate hobby!"

Harry snorted despite his own irritation, then let out a short laugh, eyes glinting with mirth. Voldemort echoed him, though with less joy in his hoarse laugh, his voice softer and weaker, than Harry's.

Harry cut himself off abruptly, his expression changed to worried one in a split second:

"Was it really necessary? Spending energy on me, I mean."

"You might be right," the Dark Lord admitted quietly.

"Of course, I am right!" Harry snorted and shook his head. "Doubting Thomas!" he barked a laugh, when understood, whom exactly he called that.

Voldemort bared his teeth at the accidental joke, then pointed at their positions:

"Shall we continue?"

Harry looked with caution at the Dark Lord, who reclined further back on his bended elbows, raising his chin up to give access to his mouth, reddened from their kisses earlier, and opened his legs wider in obvious invitation, although his face acquired a worn out edge to it, his brow creasing slightly. Half-lidded red eyes watched attentively, as Harry smoothed his own robe and straightened his back, towering a little over the Dark Lord, who was almost fully spread out in front of him now, having been gradually lowering his upper body during the last several seconds.

"Are we still going to do it?" Harry furrowed his brow. "Looks like you're out of energy, no?"

The Dark Lord's face darkened:

"We've been over this already," he grumbled. "If we want to return to the world of the living – "

"You look like a ghost yourself, and I suppose, I am no better. Why don't we take a rest – ?"

"Potter, do you see that wall over there? It is closing on us. Couple of hours more – and we won't have any ground to fuck on, neither the air to do it properly!" snapped Voldemort. "Or do you think I haven't noticed?"

"W-well – " Harry mumbled, at a loss for words.

"So either you fuck me now, or I'll take you here, and believe me, you won't like it!" growled Voldemort. "First time is no joke, when you take it into your ass, especially, if you're not very into men!"

Harry blushed.

Voldemort suddenly fell on his back completely, closing his eyes tiredly with a moan.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked nervously, when saw the Dark Lord to throw his robe off and take his own member into his clenched fist, its knuckles whitening in tension, his other hand moving lower and between his parted thighs.

"Preparing myself," the Dark Lord gritted, rose spots blossoming on his hollowed cheeks, a wet dark lock falling into his bleary darkened eyes.

Harry paled at this and tried to avert his eyes from this carnal sight, but found no strength to do it, gaze glued to huge member, not fully fit into Voldemort's fist, slowly hardening and becoming even bigger and thicker in his hand. The Dark Lord licked his drying lips, low hiss emitting from them and ending with a louder moan.

Harry gulped.

Although he had been arguing over his own sexuality and preferences just recently, the view enthralled him and made his own member throb painfully and stand proudly, his half-opened robe, which was hardly covering his crotch, not hiding anything from view.

"I tried to have it your way," Voldemort gritted, "but – " he trailed off with a meaningful glance at Harry, who was frozen on the spot, his gaze transfixed on the man in front of him, his neck and face steadily obtaining a dark-red colour of fresh beet-root. Unbeknownst to him, his one hand had gone to his own erection, he was roughly and clumsily fisting himself, while watching the salacious scene in front of him to unfold: the Dark Lord managed to twist his body so, that he was stretching and scissoring his own arse and pumping up his member at the same time, looking at Harry from under his fringe with half-lidded eyes, which were already clouded and glassy from desire. Voldemort sported bright-rose blush, and one small dimple was seen on his left cheek. He bit on his lower lip and was now chewing on it, trying to hold in some of the most lecherous and loud of his groans.

Meanwhile Harry managed to work himself up almost to completion, his stone-hard erection already dragging from his mouth keen needy sounds, which went unnoticed by him. He made a small unsteady step towards Voldemort: the latter was panting heavily, the glistening crown of sweat appearing on his forehead and trailing down his temples and cheeks to the corners of his grimacing mouth.

"May I?" Harry didn't know that he said in Parseltongue, the snake-language, as usual, sounding like English to him, but Voldemort was too familiar with sibilantly sounding and whispering softness to recognise it for what it was, his eyes shooting to Harry's and locking with them in intense staring contest, while the movements of both of his hands gained speed and became uneven, his breath turning to ragged and more sweat appearing on his brow and above his lips, his mouth screwing up in a strange emotion, the end of which Harry managed to catch through their mental link.

Harry shifted closer to Voldemort and put a gentle hand on top of the Dark Lord's on his member, forgoing his own throbbing one for now.

'Still don't know what I'm doing – ' Harry mumbled inside their minds unsure, but opposite to his confession, his movements were steady. He trailed along Voldemort's other hand with the tips of his fingers down to the man's thighs and looked up questioningly. The Dark Lord gave a jerky nod in response, taking his fingers out of his arse and dropping his hand away from it completely.

Harry tried with feathery touch at his entrance, then, letting out a nervous breath, slowly placed one finger inside Voldemort. The man hissed lowly and started to recline back in attempt to lay down and give Harry better access to his arse.

Removing his other hand from the Dark Lord's erection for a moment, Harry support his shoulders to help Voldemort to lay properly, then put his hand where it seemed to belong, the finger of his other hand still remaining in the man's hole and twitching and twisting in there slightly. The dark Lord already stretched himself a bit, but Harry still proceeded very slowly, gently massaging the insides almost at the very entrance, then inserting the finger gradually further and stretching the tight hole, dragging small sounds of stress out of Voldemort in the process.

"Fas-ss-ster!" the Dark Lord hissed impatiently, fidgeting on the ground and grimacing, when Harry's finger caught on something in his arse, his nail scraping the soft skin there.

Harry bit on his lip in brief contemplation, then added the second finger, took the Dark Lord's member in the fist of his free hand and bent down.

Voldemort hoarsely cried out: Harry blew on his member, then licked at the head and trailed a path of saliva along the length, with his eyes raised to see the reaction of the Dark Lord.

'I won't last,' Voldemort managed curtly.

Harry's mouth twitched in a satisfied smirk, eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don you dare – !" Voldemort threatened in hoarse voice.

With a crooked smirk Harry trailed the second mirroring line on the other side of his member and simultaneously added third finger into his arse, his moves there taking up faster jagged rhythm, stretching and working Voldemort up.

The Dark Lord responded to each of his actions with more and more carnal keening and wanton moans, fidgeting and writhing underneath Harry, his hands shooting up and randomly touching the boy's back, sides and hips, removing the unnecessary robe from him in the process.

Suddenly Harry felt the hand on his own forgotten member.

He froze for a second, then made a conscious effort to relax under the touch, wincing, when realising, that he lost some of his erection to nervousness.

Being distracted Harry's hands slowed down and he managed to scrape Voldemort with his teeth. He froze the second time in the last minute, when the fact registered, but Voldemort only shuddered and hissed quietly, his hips attempting to shoot upwards into Harry's face in a sign of his pleasure. Harry smirked, his tongue still on the man's member, circling it in wet spiral trails, and deliberately scraped the sensitive skin with his teeth. Voldemort tried to leap up, only Harry's hand on his hip and the other – shooting deeper into his arse making him lie back again with a low groan.

'Too much,' the Dark Lord breathed out in Harry's mind. ' – won't last – '

Harry looked into his face, slowly removing the hand on his member and fingers out of him, then motioned to his own member, which still had not regained its full hardness.

"Too much stress," he breathed out, upset.

"Let me," the Dark Lord slurred half-coherently and brought his hand to Harry's half-erect cock, then pointed for Harry to shuffle closer to Voldemort's head.

"Don't," muttered Harry, but the man was already positioning himself so, that his mouth was at the right place to suck Harry up.

Harry blushed, even his neck and upper collarbone going deep-red, feeling the Dark Lord's hot and heavy breath on the sensitive skin of his own cock, plump chaffed lips carefully coming closer and closer. Harry couldn't tear his gaze from the scene, his mind drawing a blank even before the actual interaction. When Voldemort finally took Harry into his mouth, the latter let out a strangled cry, immediately muffling it with his bitten fist.

'Too fast – ,' Harry tried to reach Voldemort mentally to warn him.

'Got it – ,' the Dark Lord let his cock out, a thin line of saliva trailing from the corner of his half-opened mouth to Harry's cock' head, still connecting them. His fingers encircled the base of Harry's erection, squeezing it tightly.

Harry sobbed at the sensation.

"Should I do it?" Voldemort suggested.

Harry looked at him without understanding.

Voldemort gently pushed on his shoulders to put the boy down on his back and was going to climb on top of him, but Harry stopped him with a soft touch of his palm to his chest.

"Let me," he whispered and shuffled, changing their positions, but opting to remain on his knees between the man's opened legs instead. Harry trailed the tips of his fingers along Voldemort's length with a pensive expression, then took him by his knees, opening him up more and tried to position himself at his entrance.

'I'd be careful,' he promised and tried to push inside.

Voldemort let out a sudden sob, quickly biting on his lip to shut himself up, and looked at Harry's flushed face. The boy was looking at him with tense attention, not moving, after he managed to push the head inside him, obviously unfamiliar with the process and stressing out about it.

Grimacing, Voldemort brought his hips upwards and then down with some force, trying to get more of Harry inside himself.

"Go!" he ordered.

"B-but – "

"Move!" the Dark Lord growled, raising and dropping his hips again.

With a forced grunt Harry thrust into Voldemort, sheathing himself completely up to his balls with a slapping sound of flesh hitting flesh, then moved slowly back out, his shudder mirroring Voldemort's tremble.

Harry watched with growing worry when the Dark Lord started wincing and writhing underneath him from an obvious discomfort, the waves of desire, which had been coming from him through their mental connection at the beginning of the intercourse, steadily turning into bursts of anxiety and distress. He looked as if at the verge of a breakdown on the outside, too, Harry noticed with mixture of horror and frustration, his own desire subsiding a bit at that. Moving gently and slowly, Harry brought Voldemort's legs down to the ground and, freeing his hands, started to tentatively knead the tensed muscles, stroke them, gradually moving his gliding hands up Voldemort's leg to his hips and lower abdomen, caressing him there. Then he bent down and licked the skin above the man's groin, his tongue ascending up to his stomach and chest afterwards. He still was inside Voldemort, but not moving his lower body, opting to distract the Dark Lord from uncomfortable sensations with his ministrations for a while. At last he reached Voldemort's collarbone and neck, licking and leaving ghost kisses on his way there. Looking in the red eyes, which were watching him tensely, Harry locked his lips with the Dark Lord's in a soft chaste kiss. The kiss became heated in an instant, Voldemort deepening it and thrusting his tongue into Harry's mouth almost up to his throat roughly. Harry let out a loud 'ah!' into the kiss, closing his eyes for a moment, his breath catching up from the violent, but sweet intrusion. Still not releasing Voldemort's mouth, Harry continued to caress the unresponsive body under him with gentle ghostly touches of his fingertips to the cool skin, heating under his hands.

When he finally sensed Voldemort to relax inside their minds and his muscles loose tension under his hands, Harry at last started to move his hips slowly, thrusting forward and sliding almost fully out each time, Voldemort's low moans of pleasure, slowly increasing in amount and volume, inspiring him to continue.

'I am going to – ' Harry tried to warn Voldemort after a while, but his speeding up thrusts and unfocused gaze were more than enough warning for the man. The Dark Lord's attempt to move off of him, before it was too late, was unsuccessful – Harry came with a loud outcry of "Tom!", his member pulsing and shooting hot wave after wave inside Voldemort's arse, making him come, too, though reluctantly. Harry felt Voldemort's orgasm add to his own through their connected minds, the sensations overwhelming them completely.

For a moment Harry's vision went black, so he didn't see Voldemort rolling up his eyes in faint spell, as well.

With a tired sigh Harry slid out from Voldemort's arse and looked at the man with worried expression.

"Hey," he called out unsure.

Voldemort moaned softly and came to his senses, though his red eyes were still bleary.

"Potter, you idiot!" he cursed hoarsely. "Did you forget about magic at all?" he winced.

"What?!" Harry blinked at him incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"First, have you ever heard about lubricant?" fidgeting on the ground, grumbled Voldemort. "And second, I thought I had made myself clear: we should add magical power during the intercourse. Why was I doing all the work?" he inquired acidly.

Harry bristled.

"Were you expecting me to become an expert in this all right at first try?" he snapped in similar irritation.

Voldemort pursed his lips annoyed:

"Seems like we'd need to repeat the act."

Harry blushed furiously at that.

Voldemort shrugged and spread his legs apart.

"The incantation is 'Lubrio'," Voldemort grumbled, grimacing. "And don't forget to add magic power to your climax," he added, rolling his eyes. "It's not about getting off, it's about getting out."

Harry stared at him in shock.

"What are you saying?" Not moving, asked Harry.

"I am saying," quietly started Voldemort, "fuck me already, Potter!" he barked angrily. "And properly this time!"

Harry bristled and shuffled away from him, instead of coming closer.

"What's with you, Potter?" Voldemort snapped.

"No, what is with you, Tom?!"

"Don't call me that!" Voldemort snarled furious.

"'Voldemort's too long to cry out when coming!" Harry retorted in kind. "I am not doing it right away again, I am no sex-machine! And neither is you, by the way! It's not me, who passed out at his climax!"

Voldemort went pink in the face at the reminder of his weakness.

"I'm absolutely fine! And besides, it was you doing most of the work, as it should be now, too!"

"I've said," Harry raised his voice to be heard. "I am no sex-machine! Even being a teenager doesn't mean I am able to come three times in a row within half-hour!"

Voldemort huffed in indignation.

"You have another half-hour at most to rest, then we need to get down to business again," he offered with great reluctance.

"You know, this is becoming more and more ridiculous with each moment," Harry said and simply plopped down on his back beside the Dark Lord, ignoring the fact that they both were still naked and sticky with sweat and cum.

"Aguamenti, Scorgify" Voldemort muttered almost in one word, swiftly flourishing his wand over their bodies.

"At least it's not cold in here," mumbled Harry sleepily, his eyelids dropping.

"Don't you dare sleep, Potter!" Voldemort warned him, but it was too late: Harry turned on his side and snuggled closer to him in search of warmth and comfort, despite his own words, and started to snore softly somewhere into the Dark Lord's armpit.

Sighing in resignation, Voldemort closed his eyes as well, nodding off.

~8~8~8~

Harry opened his eyes some time later and immediately raised up onto his elbows, turning towards the wall. It seemed to slow down its advance on them, the movement almost unnoticeable.

Harry looked at the sleeping form beside him: Voldemort was lying on his back, one arm stretched to Harry, the other – over his chest, holding in place the robe he was covered with. Harry remembered its corner falling of his own chest, when he woke and got up. Harry looked around and saw the second robe, lying on the ground in about a foot away from them.

He let Voldemort sleep for another ten or fifteen minutes, before finally deciding to wake him. Looking pensively at the Dark Lord Harry chewed on his lip in thought, then bent down and touched his lips in a tentative kiss.

Voldemort sighed into the kiss and slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Harry questioningly.

"Should we repeat?" Harry asked softly.

Voldemort nodded without a word.

Harry shuffled closer to him and carefully put a hand on the bare chest of the Dark Lord, palm flat and unmoving, waiting for some kind of encouragement from the man.

"Go on," barely above a whisper offered Voldemort, the muscles of his chest twitching slightly under Harry's touch.

"You're still tense," Harry observed quietly.

"It's unavoidable," the Dark Lord responded in kind. "Unpleasant memories," he supplied.

"I know we discussed this, but maybe we switch?" Harry offered.

"No, go on," Voldemort sighed.

Harry grimaced, but obliged, gently gliding his hand down to the Dark Lord's abdomen and putting the other hand under his neck, caressing there and lifting the man's head to kiss him, the movements of his lips soft and careful, with no tongue at first. Voldemort took away the initiative, as he'd done before, his tongue stroking the inside of Harry's mouth, hungry moan escaping him, when the kiss deepened and became heated, teeth and tongues coming into play properly.

While distracting Voldemort with kisses and caresses, Harry steadily slid down his body to lay between his thighs, parting Voldemort's legs with his raised knee.

Removing a hand, which had been caressing Voldemort's nape, Harry pressed its palm into the Dark Lord's groin, covering the bulge, still hidden under the fold of the robe. Voldemort groaned loudly into his mouth, jerking his hips up, when Harry squeezed him over the fabric, rubbing his hand against it gently.

Harry ended the kiss and slid some more, his head coming to the level of Voldemort's abdomen. He rested his chin there, looking up at the Dark Lord's already flushed face, then smirked mischievously and dropped his head onto the man's crotch, still not removing the cloth from there.

"Ha-Harry," Voldemort breathed out, his voice hitching, when the boy gnawed on the flesh under the robe very carefully. He sobbed, when Harry's mouth left his groin, a thin line of saliva leaking out of the corner of his quirking lips, his eyes going glassy.

Harry at last removed the interfering robe with one swift motion and lunged down on him, the boy's lips closing around Voldemort's still soft, but gradually hardening flesh, tongue circling the head, fingers of one hand caressing the base and balls, playing with them a bit, and scratching some, dragging a hiss out of Voldemort's half-opened mouth. The Dark Lord watched with bleary eyes as Harry was sucking him, rolling his eyes up to look at him expectantly.

Suddenly Harry's hand, which had been circling around the lower part of Voldemort's cock, it being too big to fit completely into boy's mouth, squeezed the base, making the Dark Lord groan in frustration.

"Better to do it together," Harry explained, then furrowed, "What was that spell again?"

"Lubrio," Voldemort breathed out and winced.

Harry reached for his wand lying at some distance from them and raised a brow at Voldemort.

"Just swish," the latter gritted out, rolling his eyes.

Harry shrugged and repeated the incantation, swishing his wand and pointing it the fingers of his other hand and then to Voldemort's anus for good measure.

The Dark Lord twitched from not very pleasant sensation of cool slickness, appearing in his still overstretched arse.

Harry threw away his wand and turned his attention back to the Dark Lord in an instant, his lubricated hand caressing and kneading the tight ring of muscles at Voldemort's entrance, one finger almost immediately sliding in, followed by the second one. After quick impatient scissoring Harry put the third finger in, stretching Voldemort as much as he could.

All the while he was stroking and caressing his chest with the other hand, avoiding the nipples as a plague, remembering how the man reacted the two previous times, when touched there.

"That's enough," Voldemort murmured after several minutes, dragging Harry's head up by his hair to nib on his lip before crushing his mouth in a kiss. 'Fuck me already!' he growled in Harry's mind impatiently.

Harry needn't to be asked twice, his own neglected cock already hard and leaking pre-cum without either of them touching it. He looked at Voldemort for the last nod of confirmation.

"Now!"

Harry was already at the comfortable position between Voldemort's parted legs, his member near theDark Lord's entrance, so he just pushed forward, starting to thrust in and out almost instantly, not giving the man time to even breath properly.

One of Voldemort's hands shot to Harry's mouth: 'Lick!' he ordered, after which brought this hand, covered in Harry's saliva to his own twitching cock, pumping it in time with Harry's thrusts in him.

'I'm coming,' Harry slurred inside their minds.

'Too,' Voldemort responded in kind, his fist on his cock speeding up along with Harry's thrusts, increasing in frequency. 'Magic,' he managed to remind Harry. "Yesssss – !!!" he climaxed with a sibilant hiss, putting as much of his magical power into this outburst of mixed emotions and senses, as he could, Harry following suit with a muffled cry of "Tom!", his magic lashing out in all directions and mixing with Voldemort's, and falling on him after his own climax, trying to reach his mouth to seal their coercion with a kiss. Voldemort attempted to turn away, but he was spent so dry, both energy- and magic-wise, that Harry managed to steal a chaste peck on his lips, which turned into rather passionate, though tired kiss, when Voldemort surrendered and tried to conquer Harry's mouth with his tongue, growling in the kiss and hearing Harry moan in response. After they parted, Harry snuggled tighter, making himself comfortable on Voldemort's chest, rubbing his cheek against hot sweaty skin.

"What's wrong?" Harry slurred sleepily, when felt Voldemort shudder underneath him.

"No idea," muttered Voldemort equally sleepily. "Think, I felt something. Some magic. Dunno," he trailed off, another shudder going through him, and cursed lowly.

"Wha – ?" Harry lifted his heavy head, his eyes half-closed already.

Voldemort grimaced, as if in pain. Harry made an effort to reach him mentally and, indeed, felt the echo of pain, already subsiding, but still lingering, like a stinging hula hup around the Dark Lord's mid-torso. Harry furrowed, some of his sleepiness dissipating.

"Are you okay?"

"Should be in a second, I think," Voldemort muttered. "It's already left. Possibly, just the leftover of our combined magical outburst."

"Looks, like it didn't work though," Harry sighed upset.

Voldemort shrugged.

"You better rest, then we move out," he suggested quietly. "No point in staying in this spot all the time. Better go as far as possible from that wall, while we still can. Sleep." He closed his eyes, as did Harry, both of them falling asleep right away.