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bottom_dracoOkay, this is actually my first post here, believe it or not. But my story finally got around to some substantial bottom!Draco action, so I thought I'd post this chapter here. Basically, this chapter is bottom!Draco, and there's a link to the rest of the story down below, so you can catch up first. This will mostly bottom!Draco-y from here on out, actually. I hope you like it!
Title: Cho Must Die a Horrible, Painful Death (14/?)
Author: NQDonne
Email: nqdonne@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Cho’s messing Harry about leads him to consider… other options (aka: Draco Malfoy). Botched kissing attempts, fumbling in the Prefects' Bathroom, the sordid use of Parseltongue and, of course, massive squabbling follows.
Genre: Humor/Angst.
Pairings: Draco/Harry, plus Ron/Hermione on the side.
Kinks: RIMMING (*gasp*!)
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. JKR and co. own all the rights.
Notes: Thanks to the betas,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyvader and kataclysmic, and to my ueber-friend Megan for helping me get the rimming POV right.
Look for an homage to The Girl Next Door somewhere down there :)
Previous chapters can be found here for those that need to play catch up.
Chapter Fourteen: The Things One Learns from Books
Ron was looking at him funny.
Harry glanced up from his book to sneak another look at the gawking redhead, to confirm it. Yes, Ron was acting rather strangely.
“You know,” Harry interrupted the silence of the near-empty Common Room, “it’s not so unusual for me to be reading a book that you should look at me like I’ve sprouted antennae or something.”
“Ante-what, Harry?” Ron sported a confused look for a moment. “Anyway, mate, I wasn’t staring at you cause you’re reading, though it is strange.” He paused a moment and peered around the room cautiously. Then, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper, he continued, “I want to know how it went... with him.”
Harry gave a dramatic sigh. He’d been dreading this. As easy as Ron normally was to talk to, they’d never really discussed sex without it becoming awkward and weird.
“Um, it went… okay,” Harry tried, hoping to appease Ron with as few details as possible.
“Just okay?” Ron pried.
“Yeah,” Harry swallowed heavily, looking away. “Just okay.”
Now maybe Ron would drop the subject.
“Did he blow you?” Ron asked bluntly.
“Gah!” Harry shrieked, looking around the room furiously, being sure there was no on within earshot. “Don’t ask me that, Ron! Not here!”
“So,” Ron paused, looking at Harry thoughtfully, “if we go somewhere else you’ll tell me?”
“What? NO!” Harry was blushing. He hated it when he blushed; it was embarrassing.
“Why do you even want to know?” Harry asked incredulously.
Ron shrugged. “I don’t know. Just curious; trying to be supportive, you know.”
“Um, thank you?” Harry said awkwardly.
“Right,” Ron looked down at his hands, then he peered up at Harry, his lips parted in question, before bolting up and running up to their dorm. He returned a minute later, holding a small jar in his hands, which he handed to Harry.
“This is for you, mate… in case you need it.”
“In case I need what?” Harry asked, looking at the jar more closely. Oh. Okay.
“Ron, you really don’t have to…” Harry started.
“Well, do you have any?”
“Um, no.”
“I think you’ll need it more than I will, in the next while. Besides, I have more.”
Harry blushed. He was discussing lubricant supplies with his best friend. This was really quite dire.
“Well, um, thanks Ron,” Harry smiled sheepishly. “I’ll, um, return it as soon as I can, or, um, buy you a new one.”
“No, you don’t have to do that, Harry. It’s a specialty item, so I should probably get it myself.”
“Specialty item?” Harry questioned.
“Well, let’s just say it’s some high quality stuff,” Ron grinned.
Harry, at this point a bright shade of crimson, quietly thanked Ron and excused himself. He did, after all, have an… appointment with Malfoy this evening, and this time the Slytherin had requested something Harry really needed time to prepare himself for.
***
Harry crept down towards the dungeon wearing his Invisibility Cloak. Malfoy’s note had demanded they meet at the entrance to the dungeon, so Malfoy could lead him to the Slytherin dorms for their next meeting. Of course, Malfoy didn’t know that Harry actually knew where the Slytherin Dungeon was, and Harry certainly wasn’t going to tell him. A part of Harry was curious to get back into the dorm and explore, as he hadn’t had a proper opportunity to looking around in second year, but the other part of him didn’t particularly want to mess around with Malfoy in Slytherin territory, especially considering what he hoped to do.
Harry reached the entrance to the dungeons and saw Malfoy leaning against a pillar, waiting for him. Stepping into the shadows, Harry removed his cloak before approaching the blond.
“About time, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, looking him up and down. “You don’t have to hide your magical little cloak, Potter. I know you have it. In fact, you should really put it back on, otherwise it’ll be rather difficult getting you into Slytherin.”
“Why do you want me coming into your territory, anyway?” Harry questioned as he swung the cloak back over his body.
“It’s past time we did things on my terms, that’s why,” Draco answered, turning and seeing no one. “You are following me, right Potter?”
“Yes,” Harry answered from behind him.
“Right,” Draco said, mostly to himself, though he seemed unsettled by the disembodied voice.
Harry followed closely behind the other boy as they descended into the bowels of the school, concentrating with great effort on Draco’s firm arse. Oh, yes, Harry could get used to this.
They reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common room in five minutes time, Harry shivering at this point from the drop in temperature.
“Is it always this cold down here?” he questioned.
Draco jumped at his voice. “Don’t do that, Potter! Bloody creepy. And to answer your question, yes, it is. Heat rises, you bloody idiot, what do you expect? But the dorm is charmed to stay pleasantly toasty, of course. Anyhow, we’ll be changing the password tomorrow, so don’t think this will help you in any way,” Draco finished his tirade and turned to the wall.
“Hobnobs,” Draco addressed the wall firmly, and it opened to reveal the Slytherin Common room, just as it had been all those years ago when Harry last entered it, under the guise of Goyle.
Harry followed Draco silently, though he was dying to tease him about the password. He suppressed his laughter until they were inside Draco’s room, which, Harry was surprised to find, was single capacity.
“You get your own room?” he asked, drawing the cloak in his arms and folding it messily.
“Of course I do, idiot. I’m Head Boy,” Draco answered with an edge of annoyance.
“Just asking. Head Boy… reminds me of Hobnobs,” Harry grinned.
“What?” Draco asked incredulously.
“It’s not particularly menacing and… Slytherin-esque, is it?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” Draco cried shrilly.
“No, no – it’s okay, I like Hobnobs.”
“I know you do,” Draco said before he could catch himself, and began to blush.
Harry blushed in return and nervously toed off his shoes. There was silence for a minute as Draco removed his own shoes and loosened his tie.
“So, what do you want to do?” Harry questioned idly, staring at his socked feet.
“Don’t know. Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“You mean you went to all this trouble of getting me into your room and that’s it? You have no clue what you want to do?”
“I can’t do everything all the fucking time, Potter!”
“Right,” Harry answered tersely and peered at his hands. “We could start by kissing and then kind of figure it out from there…”
“I told you, Potter, no kissing. Too intimate.”
“Fine. If we’re naked and kissing does that make it less intimate?”
“Yeah. Then it’s just fucking around.”
“Whatever,” Harry replied hastily, bending down and pulling of his socks and then lying back and lifting his hips so he could take his pajama bottoms off. Draco followed suit, beginning by unbuttoning his Slytherin emblazoned pajama top.
In a few minutes, both boys were completely naked and semi-aroused, peering at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Harry took the initiative, scooting closer to the blond and leaning into his side. He hooked his right leg over Draco’s left, pushing his hips and blooming erection flush against Draco’s hipbone. Pressing his lips softly against the blond’s shoulder, Harry worked his way up, over his collarbone and the stretch of his neck, kissing and nibbling until he reached the other boy’s mouth. Harry brushed his lips against Draco’s softly, peering up at him afterwards curiously, to see if this was all right.
Draco lowered his chin and looked straight into Harry’s eyes, something akin to fear dancing in them. Harry stared back at the other boy, trying to place the emotion. Naked or not, this felt a bit intimate, especially since Draco looked horribly worried and scared.
The pause grew as Harry worried his lip and contemplated whether or not this had got too weird and if he should stop. Draco narrowed his eyes, grabbed Harry’s glasses and flung them aside.
Harry pulled back and groped on the Slytherin’s other side for his glasses. “Malfoy! I need those to see!”
“Exactly. I’d prefer it if you’d do this without staring at me like some lost little boy, Potter. I’m sure you’ll manage somehow.”
Harry huffed in frustration and pulled himself toward Malfoy again. Everything was horribly blurry, but he could make out the outline of Draco’s form rather well up close. He ran his fingers up Draco’s chest until he found his chin and lightly grabbed hold of it. He wet his lips and leaned forward, finding soft, wet lips returning his tentative kiss.
They both grew more confident, remembering their past kisses, each boy battling for control. Draco, the more aggressive of the pair, won over domination of the kiss, making Harry gasp as he plunged his tongue into his mouth, but Harry had the advantage in his position, as he was able to thrust against Malfoy’s hip, the delicious friction going straight to his groin.
Harry reached over and fondled Draco’s semi-hard prick, thumbing at the head and spreading pre-come down the shaft before he began pumping Draco’s cock to full hardness. Draco moaned and nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, who retaliated by squeezing the other boy’s prick a little harder than necessary. The two broke away from the kiss, lips red, bruised, and swollen as they panted and stared at each other hungrily.
“Turn over,” Harry said huskily, running his fingers along the curve of Draco’s hip.
“What?”
“Turn over,” he repeated. “I have something I’d like to try.”
“I am not simply going to roll over and let you bugger me, Potter!”
“I’m not going to bugger you. Just trust me. I think you may like it.”
“Since when have I ever trusted you?”
“True. But try, okay? I promise I won’t hex you or anything.”
Draco reluctantly complied, flipping over onto his stomach and turning his face sideways on his pillow, so he could still watch Harry’s actions from the corner of his eye. Draco really didn’t like being submissive; it made him nervous. Why should he trust Potter, anyway? He’d never done anything but screw him over, and –
Potter was touching his arse!
Draco shoulders tensed at the contact, turning his head and burying it in his pillow. Why was he doing that, anyway? Draco really wasn’t comfortable with Potter touching him like that, and –
Okay, now he’d stopped. Draco craned his head to see what Harry was doing, and saw him leaning over the edge of the bed, reaching for something. Before Draco could ask what he was doing, Harry was back, perched atop his thighs. He leaned forward and ran his hands over Draco’s shoulder blades. He nuzzled the blond’s hairline with the tip of his nose as he kissed the tips of his shoulders. Moving down the Slytherin’s back, he dipped his tongue along the grooves of Draco’s spine, pausing at the base to suck at the small indentation between his spinal chord and buttocks.
As much as Draco hated to admit it, it was amazing, and he was beginning to react accordingly. His breathing sped up, and he huffed against the pillow. His thighs, hitherto clamped together, began to relax and Harry was able to gently spread them apart.
Draco wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, though he had a slight suspicion about Potter’s intent. He should say something; stop him, because he really wasn’t comfortable with… woah! Potter kissing his arse! Okay, Draco was comfortable with that bit. Suited Potter well, really, kissing his arse.
Well, this wasn’t so bad, really. Harry was kneading the top of Draco’s buttocks with his hands, nuzzling at the base of his spine with his nose. Okay – as long as he stuck this sort of thing and didn’t -
“Oh my fucking God!” Draco cried out, as Harry parted his cheeks and circled the pucker of his arsehole with his tongue.
Guess that meant he was doing okay, Harry reckoned, as the blond shouted muffled expletives into his pillow.
Harry returned to his earlier activities, laving at Draco’s hole with his tongue. The taste under his tongue was musty, yet pleasant. Harry realised he’d forgot to use a cleaning spell, yet Malfoy tasted pretty damn clean. Had he prepared himself for this? Harry got even harder imagining Draco getting himself ready in the shower, probing pale fingers into his own arse…
Harry snapped himself out of his thinking and slowed his insistent rubbing of his prick into the sheets. He needed to concentrate. Retreating for a moment, he placed kisses along Malfoy’s arse cheeks as he allowed a good amount of saliva to collect in his mouth. He’d read that liberal amounts of spit were vital to rimming, though it seemed a bit crude to him. Well, not exactly true. He was afraid Malfoy would find it crude.
But at the moment, the blond was far from being revolted by anything Harry would do. His knuckles were turning white from the iron grip he had of his bed sheets and he was raising his hips slightly, as if offering himself up to Harry. Harry took it as a hint to continue as before, and moved over the other boy’s hole, but not before grabbing a stray pillow and placing it under the Slytherin’s hips to give him more leverage. Then Harry began probing the tight ring of muscle with his tongue as he reached under Draco and played with his balls.
That got him a throaty groan, and he delved deeper both trying to pleasure the boy under him and open him up for his fingers.
Harry pulled away, kissing Malfoy’s cheeks idly as he reached for the jar of lubricant at his side.
Lifting his head from the pillow, Malfoy peered at Harry, looking indignant. “What are you doing?!”
“Getting this,” Harry held up the jar. “I thought I’d try something else.”
Well, that explained what he’d been retrieving before, Malfoy thought to himself. Dear God, was he really going to use it? Draco had been perfectly happy with just the tongue, not that he was about to admit that. He realized he should probably say something condescending.
He let out a derisive snort. “Probably rubbish, just like what you were just doing.”
“What? You didn’t like it?” Harry asked him mock-innocently.
Draco shifted nervously. It was brilliant, actually. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. Potter was… brill, um, horrible! Just horrible. And Draco should tell him so.
“No,” he said sharply. “You’re disgusting, Potter, absolutely disgusting!”
“You sure you don’t like it?” Harry pushed him, nuzzling at Draco’s arse with his nose.
“No!” Draco nearly started crying out of frustration. He wanted Harry’s tongue back in his arse NOW, and if he didn’t do it soon Draco would go mad.
Without warning, Harry plunged his tongue back into Draco’s tight channel.
“God! Yes, yes. Fine, YES!” Draco cried shrilly as Harry continued to flex his tongue and lap at the tight walls of muscle. “Oh God,” Draco trailed off, whimpering. “Don’t stop…”
“You’ll like this better, I promise,” Harry assured him.
Draco rolled his eyes, though he knew Harry couldn’t see. He highly doubted he’d like whatever Potter was going to do next. It was just a fluke that he liked the entirely perverse and disgusting act Potter had just subjected him to, and –
Fucking hell, he was putting his fingers in! And it fucking hurt.
“Relax,” Harry soothed, running his other hand over the Slytherin’s lower back.
“How the bloody hell am I supposed to relax?” Draco spat. “You’ve got your bloody fingers up my sodding arsehole!”
Harry ignored him. Instead, he concentrated on what he was doing. He’d read that if you curled your fingers just so…
“I don’t even understand why you’re doing this,” Draco continued angrily, “you disgusting, foul - ”
And in a come-hither motion…
“- aaaaaahhhhhhooooooohhhh my God,” Draco moaned incoherently as his hips jerked and he pushed back wantonly against Harry’s two fingers.
Harry grinned. That would be Malfoy’s prostate. He pistoned his fingers inside the writhing boy a few more times, pleased at the string of profanity it drew from the Slytherin, before he removed them with a wet pop.
Draco craned his head at Harry, a silent protest hanging from his blood red lips, bitten raw in an effort not to cry out, as he arched his back like a cat and pushed his arse back, pleading for Harry’s fingers to return. Harry’s cock surged and he remembered his own arousal, currently rubbing against the bedspread between Draco’s knees. That was possibly the hottest thing Harry had ever seen and he felt a sudden, primal urge to sink his hard cock into that wet, pink hole and pound Malfoy into the mattress. He blushed at the thought and fumbled with the jar of lube, carelessly dipping both his index, middle and ring fingers into the solution.
Draco swallowed heavily and his chest heaved and Harry could place a look torn between arousal and fear.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you about the last time, Malfoy,” Harry explained casually, slowly easing his three fingers into Malfoy’s arse. The blond winced and bit his lower lip, screwing his eyes shut, before relaxing slightly and beginning to pant.
He continued, “But you kept interrupting me. This,” he paused, hitting Malfoy’s prostate, making his arch and groan, “is your prostate. And that’s -” He hit it again. “why I thought using one of those sex toys wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It’s why -” And again. “some people like that.”
“It still seems,” Draco broke off and gasped as Harry hit his prostate again, “rather h-heathen,” he finished roughly, short of breath.
Harry withdrew his fingers and quirked his head to the side.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Draco looked back at him, as his hips inadvertently pushing back, seeking Harry’s fingers. “Heathen is heathen. It just… is.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Harry answered him, matter-of-factly. “It’s not heathen. Lots of people do it, and they enjoy it. And you clearly do too.”
“I… shut up, Potter.”
Harry shrugged and added more lubrication to his fingers. “You have issues, Malfoy,” Harry chided, pushing them past the tight ring of muscle again.
“Me!” Draco cried out, aghast. “You’d have issues too if I had three fingers up your bum!”
“Yes,” Harry replied thoughtfully, “but they would probably be limited to ‘is he going to add another finger’ and ‘will he touch my cock soon’.”
“Since when did you become so – fuck, yeah – glib, Potter?” Malfoy retorted as Harry hit his prostate again.
“I don’t know,” Harry said lazily, slowing his rhythm down, which got him a petulant huff from the Slytherin. “Probably when I realised I was involved in regular sexual activity with my worst enemy.”
“So now I’m your worst enemy? You start licking my arse and now Draco Malfoy, previously third in line, according to you, to the Dark Lord and his own father is most threatening to ickle Harry Potter?”
“Well, most annoying enemy, at the least.”
“I’m more annoying than Voldemort?!” Draco cried shrilly, twisting round to face Harry, causing the Gryffindor’s fingers to slip free.
“Well, he at least isn’t obviously wanting to shag me senseless while rabidly denying it and calling me a filthy queer.”
“How do you know he wouldn’t?”
“Try to shag me or call me a filthy queer?”
“Are you taking the fucking piss, Potter?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Well, fucking stop it and get back to fucking me.”
“Fucking you? I thought you said you wouldn’t let me bugger you…”
“You know what I mean! The thing with the fingers! And you’d better start touching my cock or I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Harry chuckled, complying with Draco’s wishes by unceremoniously plunging his three fingers back into his bum while reaching under the blond’s hips to grasp his needy cock.
“Oh, God!” Draco cried out, desperately thrusting his hips back onto Harry’s fingers.
Harry worked his fingers vigorously, angling them just so until he hit Malfoy’s prostate on every thrust. Sliding his hand up and down Malfoy’s prick in tandem, it didn’t take long for the Slytherin to come, crying out loudly what almost sounded like Harry’s name, but was so muffled by Malfoy’s pillow that Harry couldn’t be sure.
As the other boy fell limply against the bedspread, Harry gingerly removed his fingers from the boy’s arse and drew his other hand from underneath his hips. Making sure Malfoy wasn’t looking, Harry brought the fingers of the hand that had just left Malfoy’s spent cock to his lips and tasted the come there. It tasted the same as it had before, but Harry wasn’t about to let Malfoy know he rather enjoyed the ritual of licking up the other’s come when they were finished.
Harry jerked his hand away as Malfoy began moving again, turning over slowly until he was splayed on his back.
“You learned all that from a book?” he questioned breathlessly.
“Oh, um, yeah,” Harry answered, sitting awkwardly near Malfoy’s feet, one leg bent to hide his erection.
“Well, I must say that I can see your… position on sex toys now.”
“Oh?” Harry questioned with careful words, trying to provoke elaboration from Malfoy.
“Yes, well, that was quite good.”
“Just quite good?”
Malfoy opened his eyes and set Harry with an annoyed look. “Fine. Quite fucking brilliant. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Actually, yes.”
“But you’ve never actually done that, have you?”
This time Harry was the one to set Malfoy with an annoyed look. “Obviously not.”
“What? How am I to know you haven’t been messing around with the Weasel behind my back? He certainly seems keen…”
“Me and Ron? I don’t think so.”
“And why not?”
“Well, he enjoys have sex with Hermione, for a start.”
“Hmmm, I see your point – that would be a major turn off, for any bloke – Hermione Granger, naked.” Malfoy grinned and Harry couldn’t help but laugh himself, being to relax.
“Exactly,” he smiled and threw himself onto his back next to Malfoy.
Malfoy turned his head and gave him a perplexed look, mirroring the thoughts going on in Harry’s head. They were getting on quite well; talking casually about Harry’s friends while the two of them lounged, naked, in Draco’s bed. Malfoy’s gut reaction was to lash out and say something biting, but instead he asked a simple question.
“Don’t you want to get off?”
Harry blushed. “Do you really have to ask? I’m a teenage boy, of course I do.”
“I can suck you, if you want.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open.
“What? I don’t mind, and this time you can improve on the ungrateful little sod you were last time and tell me how brilliant I am at it.”
“I wasn’t ungrateful! And, wait – you don’t mind? Draco ‘I’m just not bloody keen’ Malfoy?”
Malfoy shrugged. “Things change.”
“Clearly,” Harry retorted, gesturing between the two of them.
The two boys broke into grins.
“This is still pretty fucking weird, Potter.”
“Yeah. I just can’t believe that Snape, of all people, is encouraging this. Now that’s weird.”
“He must be gagging for it and feels he has to live vicariously through his students, which, I must say, is rather disturbing.”
Harry nodded his assent. “But why me? He could have encouraged you to shag, I don’t know, Blaise Zabini or something.”
“God, no! He, I mean she, um, I mean… Blaise is… not my type at all, to say the least. And what about you, Potter? I still can’t fathom why you decided I was your gay messiah. I mean, yes, I’m incredibly attractive and sexually appealing, but you’ve got an army of simpering admirers who would gladly take it up the bum for you. Why not shag… Colin Creevy or something?”
“I,” Harry paused, blushing, “I don’t know, honestly. Just happened.”
“Now I definitely don’t believe that. These things don’t just happen.”
“Maybe I don’t want to tell you.”
“What? That you’ve been madly in love with me all these years? Join the club.”
“I haven’t been madly in love with you!!! This is a totally recent development. I didn’t think about boys at all, least of all you, until September.”
“Sure.”
“It’s true!”
“So, you’ve been madly in love with me since September, then?”
“No! I am not madly in love with you!”
“Calm down, Potter, I’m just messing you about. You bloody deserve it after that shite about the Dark Lord. That was definitely not funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
“It was not! You should not take the piss out of someone when they have a raging hard-on. It’s cruel.”
Harry simply set Malfoy with a hard glare.
“Oh, right,” Malfoy said, noting Harry’s erection.
With an almost feline grace, Malfoy moved to Harry’s legs and swung himself over, so he sat upon Harry’s lower thighs.
“Now, Potter,” he drawled, leaning forward and ghosting his breath across the surface of Harry’s rigid cock, “do you love me?”
Harry’s opened his mouth to tell him that, no, he most certainly did not, but before he could manage it, Malfoy had surged forward, taking a good part of Harry’s length into his warm, wet mouth.
“Oh, God, yes!!!” Harry cried out, cursing himself inwardly for inadvertently giving Malfoy just what he wanted. He could see him smiling around his cock, clearly pleased with himself.
Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow, gradually relaxing, spreading his legs to allow Malfoy further access. It was just as good as it had been the first time, if not better because there was a familiarity to it, a familiarity between the two of them. Draco was methodical in his action, yet at the same time daring, taking his time to fondle Harry’s sac and perineum as he bobbed up and down.
What Harry really wanted was for Draco to tease his hole with his fingers, as part of his purpose in rimming Draco was to give him some familiarity with the idea of finger-play and hope that he would try it. Harry had attempted fingering himself whilst he masturbated, but he’d been clumsy at it and really hoped the deft blonde would try it, instead. He was, after all, very good with his hands…
As though Draco had read his mind, the blonde soon began running slick, cool fingers over his arsehole, lightly, applying light pressure. Harry whimpered as his hips jerked towards the exploring fingers.
“Malfoy, please,” he pleaded, unscrewing his eyes and peering down at the other boy.
“You want me to finger your arsehole while I suck your cock, Potter?” Draco questioned glibly as he came up for air.
Harry simply whined and pushed his hips down.
“You’re lucky I trimmed my fingernails today,” Draco said simply with a small smile and he went back to licking the head of Harry’s cock while he probed Harry’s hole with a single finger.
“Clearly,” Harry panted as the finger slowly breached his hole, burning yet feeling so good, “I’m not the only one who’s been doing a bit of reading.”
Draco lifted his head, and Harry gasped at the loss of his tongue on his prick. “Clearly,” he grinned saucily.
Harry threw his head back again as Malfoy’s single finger began to stroke the inner walls of his arse. It was a completely foreign feeling, but it was incredible. His nerves were on fire, and it was only made better by Malfoy’s returning to sucking his cock in earnest, using his other hand to stroke the base.
Malfoy had barely begun easing a second finger into his loosened hole, when Harry came hard, crying out loudly a litany of curses mixed with Draco’s surname. He was vaguely aware of Malfoy plopping himself down next to him on the bed after muttering a quick Cleaning spell, but he was too wiped out to turn his head to look.
They lay together in a companionable silence as Harry’s heart found it’s normal rhythm. Slowly, Harry began to concentrate on the sound of Draco breathing beside him and it dawned on him that he should probably be going. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking around for his discarded clothes.
“Don’t go,” Draco said quickly.
Harry turned around, surprised.
“Nott tends to stay up reading in the Common Room until 2 or 3 a.m. Invisibility Cloak or not, he’ll notice something’s awry if the door opens of it’s own accord,” Draco explained, his cheeks colouring as he realized what Harry must have thought.
“Oh, um, okay,” Harry said awkwardly, reaching for his pants so he at least wasn’t completely naked.
Draco followed suit, pulling himself up and retrieving his underclothes, slipping his y-fronts back on and crawling under the covers. “Um, you can get under, as well, if you’re cold. Just don’t touch me or anything.”
“Yeah, cause that would be completely abnormal for us, touching in any way,” Harry rolled his eyes as he peeled back the covers on his side of the large bed.
“What?” Draco questioned, rolling on his side to face him, “I don’t want you playing footsie with me or something.”
“It’s not like I’m going to be here that long, Malfoy. The Common Room should be clear in another hour or so, and then I’ll leave you be.”
“Fine. It’s weird having you in my bed,” Malfoy returned shortly.
“It’s weird being in your bed.”
Draco made a noise in the back of his throat and turned so he faced away from Harry.
Harry sighed and tried to get comfortable, but not so comfortable that he’d fall asleep. It was absolutely imperative he didn’t fall asleep in Draco Malfoy’s bed. That would be just too awkward and difficult to explain to his fellow Gryffindors the next morning.
Harry peered up at the ceiling and congratulated himself on a very successful encounter with Malfoy. The sex had been good and they’d argued very little, actually falling into friendly conversation once or twice, which, while being entirely weird, was a welcome change. They were over the initial hump of their relationship (God, since when had this become a relationship?) and now Harry had some legitimate questions to answer. Should he just try to get as much sexual experience and gratification out of this as possible, in case his showdown with Voldemort ended his (rather short) life? Or did he want something more, especially if he was going to die? He didn’t think Malfoy would be particularly keen on being his boyfriend, but Harry wasn’t particularly interested in shagging anyone else at the moment. Maybe he should stop thinking so much.
Harry’s thoughts grew hazy as he slipped into sleep. Though he knew he should be leaving, that this wasn’t a good idea, he was too exhausted and sexually sated to pull himself from the warm bed and the warm body next to his. As consciousness slipped from him, Harry thought it might be nice if Draco would be his boyfriend because, really, he liked him. But the thought slipped away from him like sand through his fingers, and he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.
End Chapter Fourteen
Title: Cho Must Die a Horrible, Painful Death (14/?)
Author: NQDonne
Email: nqdonne@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Cho’s messing Harry about leads him to consider… other options (aka: Draco Malfoy). Botched kissing attempts, fumbling in the Prefects' Bathroom, the sordid use of Parseltongue and, of course, massive squabbling follows.
Genre: Humor/Angst.
Pairings: Draco/Harry, plus Ron/Hermione on the side.
Kinks: RIMMING (*gasp*!)
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. JKR and co. own all the rights.
Notes: Thanks to the betas,
ladyvader and kataclysmic, and to my ueber-friend Megan for helping me get the rimming POV right. Look for an homage to The Girl Next Door somewhere down there :)
Previous chapters can be found here for those that need to play catch up.
Chapter Fourteen: The Things One Learns from Books
Ron was looking at him funny.
Harry glanced up from his book to sneak another look at the gawking redhead, to confirm it. Yes, Ron was acting rather strangely.
“You know,” Harry interrupted the silence of the near-empty Common Room, “it’s not so unusual for me to be reading a book that you should look at me like I’ve sprouted antennae or something.”
“Ante-what, Harry?” Ron sported a confused look for a moment. “Anyway, mate, I wasn’t staring at you cause you’re reading, though it is strange.” He paused a moment and peered around the room cautiously. Then, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper, he continued, “I want to know how it went... with him.”
Harry gave a dramatic sigh. He’d been dreading this. As easy as Ron normally was to talk to, they’d never really discussed sex without it becoming awkward and weird.
“Um, it went… okay,” Harry tried, hoping to appease Ron with as few details as possible.
“Just okay?” Ron pried.
“Yeah,” Harry swallowed heavily, looking away. “Just okay.”
Now maybe Ron would drop the subject.
“Did he blow you?” Ron asked bluntly.
“Gah!” Harry shrieked, looking around the room furiously, being sure there was no on within earshot. “Don’t ask me that, Ron! Not here!”
“So,” Ron paused, looking at Harry thoughtfully, “if we go somewhere else you’ll tell me?”
“What? NO!” Harry was blushing. He hated it when he blushed; it was embarrassing.
“Why do you even want to know?” Harry asked incredulously.
Ron shrugged. “I don’t know. Just curious; trying to be supportive, you know.”
“Um, thank you?” Harry said awkwardly.
“Right,” Ron looked down at his hands, then he peered up at Harry, his lips parted in question, before bolting up and running up to their dorm. He returned a minute later, holding a small jar in his hands, which he handed to Harry.
“This is for you, mate… in case you need it.”
“In case I need what?” Harry asked, looking at the jar more closely. Oh. Okay.
“Ron, you really don’t have to…” Harry started.
“Well, do you have any?”
“Um, no.”
“I think you’ll need it more than I will, in the next while. Besides, I have more.”
Harry blushed. He was discussing lubricant supplies with his best friend. This was really quite dire.
“Well, um, thanks Ron,” Harry smiled sheepishly. “I’ll, um, return it as soon as I can, or, um, buy you a new one.”
“No, you don’t have to do that, Harry. It’s a specialty item, so I should probably get it myself.”
“Specialty item?” Harry questioned.
“Well, let’s just say it’s some high quality stuff,” Ron grinned.
Harry, at this point a bright shade of crimson, quietly thanked Ron and excused himself. He did, after all, have an… appointment with Malfoy this evening, and this time the Slytherin had requested something Harry really needed time to prepare himself for.
***
Harry crept down towards the dungeon wearing his Invisibility Cloak. Malfoy’s note had demanded they meet at the entrance to the dungeon, so Malfoy could lead him to the Slytherin dorms for their next meeting. Of course, Malfoy didn’t know that Harry actually knew where the Slytherin Dungeon was, and Harry certainly wasn’t going to tell him. A part of Harry was curious to get back into the dorm and explore, as he hadn’t had a proper opportunity to looking around in second year, but the other part of him didn’t particularly want to mess around with Malfoy in Slytherin territory, especially considering what he hoped to do.
Harry reached the entrance to the dungeons and saw Malfoy leaning against a pillar, waiting for him. Stepping into the shadows, Harry removed his cloak before approaching the blond.
“About time, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, looking him up and down. “You don’t have to hide your magical little cloak, Potter. I know you have it. In fact, you should really put it back on, otherwise it’ll be rather difficult getting you into Slytherin.”
“Why do you want me coming into your territory, anyway?” Harry questioned as he swung the cloak back over his body.
“It’s past time we did things on my terms, that’s why,” Draco answered, turning and seeing no one. “You are following me, right Potter?”
“Yes,” Harry answered from behind him.
“Right,” Draco said, mostly to himself, though he seemed unsettled by the disembodied voice.
Harry followed closely behind the other boy as they descended into the bowels of the school, concentrating with great effort on Draco’s firm arse. Oh, yes, Harry could get used to this.
They reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common room in five minutes time, Harry shivering at this point from the drop in temperature.
“Is it always this cold down here?” he questioned.
Draco jumped at his voice. “Don’t do that, Potter! Bloody creepy. And to answer your question, yes, it is. Heat rises, you bloody idiot, what do you expect? But the dorm is charmed to stay pleasantly toasty, of course. Anyhow, we’ll be changing the password tomorrow, so don’t think this will help you in any way,” Draco finished his tirade and turned to the wall.
“Hobnobs,” Draco addressed the wall firmly, and it opened to reveal the Slytherin Common room, just as it had been all those years ago when Harry last entered it, under the guise of Goyle.
Harry followed Draco silently, though he was dying to tease him about the password. He suppressed his laughter until they were inside Draco’s room, which, Harry was surprised to find, was single capacity.
“You get your own room?” he asked, drawing the cloak in his arms and folding it messily.
“Of course I do, idiot. I’m Head Boy,” Draco answered with an edge of annoyance.
“Just asking. Head Boy… reminds me of Hobnobs,” Harry grinned.
“What?” Draco asked incredulously.
“It’s not particularly menacing and… Slytherin-esque, is it?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” Draco cried shrilly.
“No, no – it’s okay, I like Hobnobs.”
“I know you do,” Draco said before he could catch himself, and began to blush.
Harry blushed in return and nervously toed off his shoes. There was silence for a minute as Draco removed his own shoes and loosened his tie.
“So, what do you want to do?” Harry questioned idly, staring at his socked feet.
“Don’t know. Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“You mean you went to all this trouble of getting me into your room and that’s it? You have no clue what you want to do?”
“I can’t do everything all the fucking time, Potter!”
“Right,” Harry answered tersely and peered at his hands. “We could start by kissing and then kind of figure it out from there…”
“I told you, Potter, no kissing. Too intimate.”
“Fine. If we’re naked and kissing does that make it less intimate?”
“Yeah. Then it’s just fucking around.”
“Whatever,” Harry replied hastily, bending down and pulling of his socks and then lying back and lifting his hips so he could take his pajama bottoms off. Draco followed suit, beginning by unbuttoning his Slytherin emblazoned pajama top.
In a few minutes, both boys were completely naked and semi-aroused, peering at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Harry took the initiative, scooting closer to the blond and leaning into his side. He hooked his right leg over Draco’s left, pushing his hips and blooming erection flush against Draco’s hipbone. Pressing his lips softly against the blond’s shoulder, Harry worked his way up, over his collarbone and the stretch of his neck, kissing and nibbling until he reached the other boy’s mouth. Harry brushed his lips against Draco’s softly, peering up at him afterwards curiously, to see if this was all right.
Draco lowered his chin and looked straight into Harry’s eyes, something akin to fear dancing in them. Harry stared back at the other boy, trying to place the emotion. Naked or not, this felt a bit intimate, especially since Draco looked horribly worried and scared.
The pause grew as Harry worried his lip and contemplated whether or not this had got too weird and if he should stop. Draco narrowed his eyes, grabbed Harry’s glasses and flung them aside.
Harry pulled back and groped on the Slytherin’s other side for his glasses. “Malfoy! I need those to see!”
“Exactly. I’d prefer it if you’d do this without staring at me like some lost little boy, Potter. I’m sure you’ll manage somehow.”
Harry huffed in frustration and pulled himself toward Malfoy again. Everything was horribly blurry, but he could make out the outline of Draco’s form rather well up close. He ran his fingers up Draco’s chest until he found his chin and lightly grabbed hold of it. He wet his lips and leaned forward, finding soft, wet lips returning his tentative kiss.
They both grew more confident, remembering their past kisses, each boy battling for control. Draco, the more aggressive of the pair, won over domination of the kiss, making Harry gasp as he plunged his tongue into his mouth, but Harry had the advantage in his position, as he was able to thrust against Malfoy’s hip, the delicious friction going straight to his groin.
Harry reached over and fondled Draco’s semi-hard prick, thumbing at the head and spreading pre-come down the shaft before he began pumping Draco’s cock to full hardness. Draco moaned and nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, who retaliated by squeezing the other boy’s prick a little harder than necessary. The two broke away from the kiss, lips red, bruised, and swollen as they panted and stared at each other hungrily.
“Turn over,” Harry said huskily, running his fingers along the curve of Draco’s hip.
“What?”
“Turn over,” he repeated. “I have something I’d like to try.”
“I am not simply going to roll over and let you bugger me, Potter!”
“I’m not going to bugger you. Just trust me. I think you may like it.”
“Since when have I ever trusted you?”
“True. But try, okay? I promise I won’t hex you or anything.”
Draco reluctantly complied, flipping over onto his stomach and turning his face sideways on his pillow, so he could still watch Harry’s actions from the corner of his eye. Draco really didn’t like being submissive; it made him nervous. Why should he trust Potter, anyway? He’d never done anything but screw him over, and –
Potter was touching his arse!
Draco shoulders tensed at the contact, turning his head and burying it in his pillow. Why was he doing that, anyway? Draco really wasn’t comfortable with Potter touching him like that, and –
Okay, now he’d stopped. Draco craned his head to see what Harry was doing, and saw him leaning over the edge of the bed, reaching for something. Before Draco could ask what he was doing, Harry was back, perched atop his thighs. He leaned forward and ran his hands over Draco’s shoulder blades. He nuzzled the blond’s hairline with the tip of his nose as he kissed the tips of his shoulders. Moving down the Slytherin’s back, he dipped his tongue along the grooves of Draco’s spine, pausing at the base to suck at the small indentation between his spinal chord and buttocks.
As much as Draco hated to admit it, it was amazing, and he was beginning to react accordingly. His breathing sped up, and he huffed against the pillow. His thighs, hitherto clamped together, began to relax and Harry was able to gently spread them apart.
Draco wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, though he had a slight suspicion about Potter’s intent. He should say something; stop him, because he really wasn’t comfortable with… woah! Potter kissing his arse! Okay, Draco was comfortable with that bit. Suited Potter well, really, kissing his arse.
Well, this wasn’t so bad, really. Harry was kneading the top of Draco’s buttocks with his hands, nuzzling at the base of his spine with his nose. Okay – as long as he stuck this sort of thing and didn’t -
“Oh my fucking God!” Draco cried out, as Harry parted his cheeks and circled the pucker of his arsehole with his tongue.
Guess that meant he was doing okay, Harry reckoned, as the blond shouted muffled expletives into his pillow.
Harry returned to his earlier activities, laving at Draco’s hole with his tongue. The taste under his tongue was musty, yet pleasant. Harry realised he’d forgot to use a cleaning spell, yet Malfoy tasted pretty damn clean. Had he prepared himself for this? Harry got even harder imagining Draco getting himself ready in the shower, probing pale fingers into his own arse…
Harry snapped himself out of his thinking and slowed his insistent rubbing of his prick into the sheets. He needed to concentrate. Retreating for a moment, he placed kisses along Malfoy’s arse cheeks as he allowed a good amount of saliva to collect in his mouth. He’d read that liberal amounts of spit were vital to rimming, though it seemed a bit crude to him. Well, not exactly true. He was afraid Malfoy would find it crude.
But at the moment, the blond was far from being revolted by anything Harry would do. His knuckles were turning white from the iron grip he had of his bed sheets and he was raising his hips slightly, as if offering himself up to Harry. Harry took it as a hint to continue as before, and moved over the other boy’s hole, but not before grabbing a stray pillow and placing it under the Slytherin’s hips to give him more leverage. Then Harry began probing the tight ring of muscle with his tongue as he reached under Draco and played with his balls.
That got him a throaty groan, and he delved deeper both trying to pleasure the boy under him and open him up for his fingers.
Harry pulled away, kissing Malfoy’s cheeks idly as he reached for the jar of lubricant at his side.
Lifting his head from the pillow, Malfoy peered at Harry, looking indignant. “What are you doing?!”
“Getting this,” Harry held up the jar. “I thought I’d try something else.”
Well, that explained what he’d been retrieving before, Malfoy thought to himself. Dear God, was he really going to use it? Draco had been perfectly happy with just the tongue, not that he was about to admit that. He realized he should probably say something condescending.
He let out a derisive snort. “Probably rubbish, just like what you were just doing.”
“What? You didn’t like it?” Harry asked him mock-innocently.
Draco shifted nervously. It was brilliant, actually. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. Potter was… brill, um, horrible! Just horrible. And Draco should tell him so.
“No,” he said sharply. “You’re disgusting, Potter, absolutely disgusting!”
“You sure you don’t like it?” Harry pushed him, nuzzling at Draco’s arse with his nose.
“No!” Draco nearly started crying out of frustration. He wanted Harry’s tongue back in his arse NOW, and if he didn’t do it soon Draco would go mad.
Without warning, Harry plunged his tongue back into Draco’s tight channel.
“God! Yes, yes. Fine, YES!” Draco cried shrilly as Harry continued to flex his tongue and lap at the tight walls of muscle. “Oh God,” Draco trailed off, whimpering. “Don’t stop…”
“You’ll like this better, I promise,” Harry assured him.
Draco rolled his eyes, though he knew Harry couldn’t see. He highly doubted he’d like whatever Potter was going to do next. It was just a fluke that he liked the entirely perverse and disgusting act Potter had just subjected him to, and –
Fucking hell, he was putting his fingers in! And it fucking hurt.
“Relax,” Harry soothed, running his other hand over the Slytherin’s lower back.
“How the bloody hell am I supposed to relax?” Draco spat. “You’ve got your bloody fingers up my sodding arsehole!”
Harry ignored him. Instead, he concentrated on what he was doing. He’d read that if you curled your fingers just so…
“I don’t even understand why you’re doing this,” Draco continued angrily, “you disgusting, foul - ”
And in a come-hither motion…
“- aaaaaahhhhhhooooooohhhh my God,” Draco moaned incoherently as his hips jerked and he pushed back wantonly against Harry’s two fingers.
Harry grinned. That would be Malfoy’s prostate. He pistoned his fingers inside the writhing boy a few more times, pleased at the string of profanity it drew from the Slytherin, before he removed them with a wet pop.
Draco craned his head at Harry, a silent protest hanging from his blood red lips, bitten raw in an effort not to cry out, as he arched his back like a cat and pushed his arse back, pleading for Harry’s fingers to return. Harry’s cock surged and he remembered his own arousal, currently rubbing against the bedspread between Draco’s knees. That was possibly the hottest thing Harry had ever seen and he felt a sudden, primal urge to sink his hard cock into that wet, pink hole and pound Malfoy into the mattress. He blushed at the thought and fumbled with the jar of lube, carelessly dipping both his index, middle and ring fingers into the solution.
Draco swallowed heavily and his chest heaved and Harry could place a look torn between arousal and fear.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you about the last time, Malfoy,” Harry explained casually, slowly easing his three fingers into Malfoy’s arse. The blond winced and bit his lower lip, screwing his eyes shut, before relaxing slightly and beginning to pant.
He continued, “But you kept interrupting me. This,” he paused, hitting Malfoy’s prostate, making his arch and groan, “is your prostate. And that’s -” He hit it again. “why I thought using one of those sex toys wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It’s why -” And again. “some people like that.”
“It still seems,” Draco broke off and gasped as Harry hit his prostate again, “rather h-heathen,” he finished roughly, short of breath.
Harry withdrew his fingers and quirked his head to the side.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Draco looked back at him, as his hips inadvertently pushing back, seeking Harry’s fingers. “Heathen is heathen. It just… is.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Harry answered him, matter-of-factly. “It’s not heathen. Lots of people do it, and they enjoy it. And you clearly do too.”
“I… shut up, Potter.”
Harry shrugged and added more lubrication to his fingers. “You have issues, Malfoy,” Harry chided, pushing them past the tight ring of muscle again.
“Me!” Draco cried out, aghast. “You’d have issues too if I had three fingers up your bum!”
“Yes,” Harry replied thoughtfully, “but they would probably be limited to ‘is he going to add another finger’ and ‘will he touch my cock soon’.”
“Since when did you become so – fuck, yeah – glib, Potter?” Malfoy retorted as Harry hit his prostate again.
“I don’t know,” Harry said lazily, slowing his rhythm down, which got him a petulant huff from the Slytherin. “Probably when I realised I was involved in regular sexual activity with my worst enemy.”
“So now I’m your worst enemy? You start licking my arse and now Draco Malfoy, previously third in line, according to you, to the Dark Lord and his own father is most threatening to ickle Harry Potter?”
“Well, most annoying enemy, at the least.”
“I’m more annoying than Voldemort?!” Draco cried shrilly, twisting round to face Harry, causing the Gryffindor’s fingers to slip free.
“Well, he at least isn’t obviously wanting to shag me senseless while rabidly denying it and calling me a filthy queer.”
“How do you know he wouldn’t?”
“Try to shag me or call me a filthy queer?”
“Are you taking the fucking piss, Potter?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Well, fucking stop it and get back to fucking me.”
“Fucking you? I thought you said you wouldn’t let me bugger you…”
“You know what I mean! The thing with the fingers! And you’d better start touching my cock or I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Harry chuckled, complying with Draco’s wishes by unceremoniously plunging his three fingers back into his bum while reaching under the blond’s hips to grasp his needy cock.
“Oh, God!” Draco cried out, desperately thrusting his hips back onto Harry’s fingers.
Harry worked his fingers vigorously, angling them just so until he hit Malfoy’s prostate on every thrust. Sliding his hand up and down Malfoy’s prick in tandem, it didn’t take long for the Slytherin to come, crying out loudly what almost sounded like Harry’s name, but was so muffled by Malfoy’s pillow that Harry couldn’t be sure.
As the other boy fell limply against the bedspread, Harry gingerly removed his fingers from the boy’s arse and drew his other hand from underneath his hips. Making sure Malfoy wasn’t looking, Harry brought the fingers of the hand that had just left Malfoy’s spent cock to his lips and tasted the come there. It tasted the same as it had before, but Harry wasn’t about to let Malfoy know he rather enjoyed the ritual of licking up the other’s come when they were finished.
Harry jerked his hand away as Malfoy began moving again, turning over slowly until he was splayed on his back.
“You learned all that from a book?” he questioned breathlessly.
“Oh, um, yeah,” Harry answered, sitting awkwardly near Malfoy’s feet, one leg bent to hide his erection.
“Well, I must say that I can see your… position on sex toys now.”
“Oh?” Harry questioned with careful words, trying to provoke elaboration from Malfoy.
“Yes, well, that was quite good.”
“Just quite good?”
Malfoy opened his eyes and set Harry with an annoyed look. “Fine. Quite fucking brilliant. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Actually, yes.”
“But you’ve never actually done that, have you?”
This time Harry was the one to set Malfoy with an annoyed look. “Obviously not.”
“What? How am I to know you haven’t been messing around with the Weasel behind my back? He certainly seems keen…”
“Me and Ron? I don’t think so.”
“And why not?”
“Well, he enjoys have sex with Hermione, for a start.”
“Hmmm, I see your point – that would be a major turn off, for any bloke – Hermione Granger, naked.” Malfoy grinned and Harry couldn’t help but laugh himself, being to relax.
“Exactly,” he smiled and threw himself onto his back next to Malfoy.
Malfoy turned his head and gave him a perplexed look, mirroring the thoughts going on in Harry’s head. They were getting on quite well; talking casually about Harry’s friends while the two of them lounged, naked, in Draco’s bed. Malfoy’s gut reaction was to lash out and say something biting, but instead he asked a simple question.
“Don’t you want to get off?”
Harry blushed. “Do you really have to ask? I’m a teenage boy, of course I do.”
“I can suck you, if you want.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open.
“What? I don’t mind, and this time you can improve on the ungrateful little sod you were last time and tell me how brilliant I am at it.”
“I wasn’t ungrateful! And, wait – you don’t mind? Draco ‘I’m just not bloody keen’ Malfoy?”
Malfoy shrugged. “Things change.”
“Clearly,” Harry retorted, gesturing between the two of them.
The two boys broke into grins.
“This is still pretty fucking weird, Potter.”
“Yeah. I just can’t believe that Snape, of all people, is encouraging this. Now that’s weird.”
“He must be gagging for it and feels he has to live vicariously through his students, which, I must say, is rather disturbing.”
Harry nodded his assent. “But why me? He could have encouraged you to shag, I don’t know, Blaise Zabini or something.”
“God, no! He, I mean she, um, I mean… Blaise is… not my type at all, to say the least. And what about you, Potter? I still can’t fathom why you decided I was your gay messiah. I mean, yes, I’m incredibly attractive and sexually appealing, but you’ve got an army of simpering admirers who would gladly take it up the bum for you. Why not shag… Colin Creevy or something?”
“I,” Harry paused, blushing, “I don’t know, honestly. Just happened.”
“Now I definitely don’t believe that. These things don’t just happen.”
“Maybe I don’t want to tell you.”
“What? That you’ve been madly in love with me all these years? Join the club.”
“I haven’t been madly in love with you!!! This is a totally recent development. I didn’t think about boys at all, least of all you, until September.”
“Sure.”
“It’s true!”
“So, you’ve been madly in love with me since September, then?”
“No! I am not madly in love with you!”
“Calm down, Potter, I’m just messing you about. You bloody deserve it after that shite about the Dark Lord. That was definitely not funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
“It was not! You should not take the piss out of someone when they have a raging hard-on. It’s cruel.”
Harry simply set Malfoy with a hard glare.
“Oh, right,” Malfoy said, noting Harry’s erection.
With an almost feline grace, Malfoy moved to Harry’s legs and swung himself over, so he sat upon Harry’s lower thighs.
“Now, Potter,” he drawled, leaning forward and ghosting his breath across the surface of Harry’s rigid cock, “do you love me?”
Harry’s opened his mouth to tell him that, no, he most certainly did not, but before he could manage it, Malfoy had surged forward, taking a good part of Harry’s length into his warm, wet mouth.
“Oh, God, yes!!!” Harry cried out, cursing himself inwardly for inadvertently giving Malfoy just what he wanted. He could see him smiling around his cock, clearly pleased with himself.
Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the pillow, gradually relaxing, spreading his legs to allow Malfoy further access. It was just as good as it had been the first time, if not better because there was a familiarity to it, a familiarity between the two of them. Draco was methodical in his action, yet at the same time daring, taking his time to fondle Harry’s sac and perineum as he bobbed up and down.
What Harry really wanted was for Draco to tease his hole with his fingers, as part of his purpose in rimming Draco was to give him some familiarity with the idea of finger-play and hope that he would try it. Harry had attempted fingering himself whilst he masturbated, but he’d been clumsy at it and really hoped the deft blonde would try it, instead. He was, after all, very good with his hands…
As though Draco had read his mind, the blonde soon began running slick, cool fingers over his arsehole, lightly, applying light pressure. Harry whimpered as his hips jerked towards the exploring fingers.
“Malfoy, please,” he pleaded, unscrewing his eyes and peering down at the other boy.
“You want me to finger your arsehole while I suck your cock, Potter?” Draco questioned glibly as he came up for air.
Harry simply whined and pushed his hips down.
“You’re lucky I trimmed my fingernails today,” Draco said simply with a small smile and he went back to licking the head of Harry’s cock while he probed Harry’s hole with a single finger.
“Clearly,” Harry panted as the finger slowly breached his hole, burning yet feeling so good, “I’m not the only one who’s been doing a bit of reading.”
Draco lifted his head, and Harry gasped at the loss of his tongue on his prick. “Clearly,” he grinned saucily.
Harry threw his head back again as Malfoy’s single finger began to stroke the inner walls of his arse. It was a completely foreign feeling, but it was incredible. His nerves were on fire, and it was only made better by Malfoy’s returning to sucking his cock in earnest, using his other hand to stroke the base.
Malfoy had barely begun easing a second finger into his loosened hole, when Harry came hard, crying out loudly a litany of curses mixed with Draco’s surname. He was vaguely aware of Malfoy plopping himself down next to him on the bed after muttering a quick Cleaning spell, but he was too wiped out to turn his head to look.
They lay together in a companionable silence as Harry’s heart found it’s normal rhythm. Slowly, Harry began to concentrate on the sound of Draco breathing beside him and it dawned on him that he should probably be going. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking around for his discarded clothes.
“Don’t go,” Draco said quickly.
Harry turned around, surprised.
“Nott tends to stay up reading in the Common Room until 2 or 3 a.m. Invisibility Cloak or not, he’ll notice something’s awry if the door opens of it’s own accord,” Draco explained, his cheeks colouring as he realized what Harry must have thought.
“Oh, um, okay,” Harry said awkwardly, reaching for his pants so he at least wasn’t completely naked.
Draco followed suit, pulling himself up and retrieving his underclothes, slipping his y-fronts back on and crawling under the covers. “Um, you can get under, as well, if you’re cold. Just don’t touch me or anything.”
“Yeah, cause that would be completely abnormal for us, touching in any way,” Harry rolled his eyes as he peeled back the covers on his side of the large bed.
“What?” Draco questioned, rolling on his side to face him, “I don’t want you playing footsie with me or something.”
“It’s not like I’m going to be here that long, Malfoy. The Common Room should be clear in another hour or so, and then I’ll leave you be.”
“Fine. It’s weird having you in my bed,” Malfoy returned shortly.
“It’s weird being in your bed.”
Draco made a noise in the back of his throat and turned so he faced away from Harry.
Harry sighed and tried to get comfortable, but not so comfortable that he’d fall asleep. It was absolutely imperative he didn’t fall asleep in Draco Malfoy’s bed. That would be just too awkward and difficult to explain to his fellow Gryffindors the next morning.
Harry peered up at the ceiling and congratulated himself on a very successful encounter with Malfoy. The sex had been good and they’d argued very little, actually falling into friendly conversation once or twice, which, while being entirely weird, was a welcome change. They were over the initial hump of their relationship (God, since when had this become a relationship?) and now Harry had some legitimate questions to answer. Should he just try to get as much sexual experience and gratification out of this as possible, in case his showdown with Voldemort ended his (rather short) life? Or did he want something more, especially if he was going to die? He didn’t think Malfoy would be particularly keen on being his boyfriend, but Harry wasn’t particularly interested in shagging anyone else at the moment. Maybe he should stop thinking so much.
Harry’s thoughts grew hazy as he slipped into sleep. Though he knew he should be leaving, that this wasn’t a good idea, he was too exhausted and sexually sated to pull himself from the warm bed and the warm body next to his. As consciousness slipped from him, Harry thought it might be nice if Draco would be his boyfriend because, really, he liked him. But the thought slipped away from him like sand through his fingers, and he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.
End Chapter Fourteen
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Date: 2005-04-08 01:11 am (UTC)