Title: Matinee
Disclaimer: I do not sadly own ANY of the following characters with
Marchand as the exception as I know her and she was more than happy
to be in this story! So basically... JKR= Literary Goddess. Me=
Obsessed Fanfic writer. :P
Rating: Well lookie boys and girls, my first true NC-17.
Pairing: DM/HP
Summary: This is why you don't let people film you when you're
drunk... or do you?
Dedication: For Angel who I had yet to write one for after pandering
to Linda's needs... *ducks any cushions thrown*... I put you in the
story a teeny bit Hon, watch; it's a small but key part. :P and also
a little for Sprocket because hers is delayed. :P
Warnings: Smut, humour, more smut... touch of fluff here and there.
*Mumbles 'couldn't help myself' and blushes. *
Without Further Ado then... For Angel. :D
Matinee.
Draco Malfoy strolled into the great hall with all the superiority he could
muster despite having the worst hangover in the history of the world, both
wizard and Muggle. The first thing he noticed was that all students in the hall
swiveled to stare at him but one. This was no major disturbance of the natural
order, in fact Potters little gang generally all looked away but today, not only
were his playmates staring along with the rest of the school but there was
something decidedly unsettling about the way in which they were staring. As he
took his seat, the best seat and therefore his by rights, at the Slytherin
table, he couldn't help but notice the way that Potter seemed to be slumping
forwards into his porridge.
A sneer curled his full lips as he turned to point this out to his right hand
man Blaise Zabini, only to find the dark haired Slytherin watching him with
enough badly concealed curiosity to kill a roomful of cats. The impending sneer
guttered to a snarl, pulling his face from fetching to feral. "What?"
He uttered harshly, hoping his followers would quit gawking and start treating
him with the proper reverence he deserved. Blaise licked his lips, an odd
shimmering light of mischief and disbelief in his eyes as he fought a
smile. "Don't you remember, Draco?"
Draco's perfect brow furrowed in annoyance and neatly hidden anxiety,
"Remember what?" He bit out.He realised his mistake as a wave of
sound, the merest whispers shot up and down the table, 7th year Slytherins
turning and exchanging meaningful glances with 7th years from the other houses.
Draco's anxiety shot upwards from hidden to overpowering, knowing full well
there was only one thing that could bind the houses together in such
a manner.
The Seventh Year Slammer.
It was the only event in Hogwarts that could unite the houses for a night of
drinks and debauchery, with the teachers either unaware or turning a blessed
blind eyes so that the exam-stressed students might catch a break. Each year a
different house would throw the Slam and it was agreed, even by the Slytherins
whose turn it'd been that year, that no foul play would come to pass during
those long, sweet alcohol soaked hours. For years it had been a tradition,
legend had it that at Dumbledore's Slam he'd gotten so drunk he'd awoken to find
himself in bed with a house elf. Draco shuddered delicately, his memories of the
night's festivities trickling back in tiny snatches of time, drinking, the
Ravenclaws arriving, drinking, the Hufflepuffs arriving, drinking, the
Gryffindors arriving, drinking, drinking, drinking…
"Blaise… I. Would you please be so good as to inform what it is I have
obviously and quite hilariously forgotten?" This was delivered in a tone of
the utmost boredom and sarcasm and if it had been said to anyone but Blaise, he
might have just gotten away with it. Blaise grinned and for a moment Draco
imagined he could see two horns sprout from his friends temples. "No can do
Boss man," he laughed softly, "You know the rules and in cases such as
these the rules must `always' be obeyed."
Draco resisted the urge to let his head slam downward into the table. The rules.
Each slam had to go by a number of reasonably simple but ironclad rules; it was
the only way the slam had survived so long. As long as everyone went by the
rules there was never any reason to see it shut down and one of these annoyingly
unbreakable rules was that the entire proceedings would be recorded by a nifty
little spell known fondly as the `Sneekee-Peek'. The spell would be set around
the surrounding walls of whichever house would host the slam and subsequently
record each sound, each and every action made by anyone during the party. It
could be adjusted to focus on any one person, or action, follow drinks, smells,
looks or even pick up whispered words, the idea being that if somebody suffered
an injustice during the slam, the proof would be unequivocal and easily
accessible. All houses would be able to access said spell and even have it
recorded into a `porta-peek' so that they could watch it over and over in the
years to come and recall the more interesting moments in their past. It was also
common knowledge that should any member of any house be found unable to remember
the proceedings then a public viewing would be called for that house as a way to
amuse themselves and humiliate the individuals into learning precisely what
their alcoholic limit was. And Draco had forgotten.
"Blaise," he lowered his voice to the softest murmur, "Don't do
it man, no-one will benefit from seeing the Slytherin spearhead brought down by
this stupid fucking tradition."
Blaise was practically purring in delight as he viewed his discomfited friend,
" Oh I know I'd certainly benefit from seeing it again Drake, I know I did
first time around." He winked lasciviously and Draco caught on, smiling for
the first time since he'd sauntered in.
"Oh it's like that is it? Maybe it's worth a watch after all, S'not like
you don't give a public viewing every fucking time I pull anyway." The
Slytherins made it a point to use the `Sneekee-Peek' at each of their `social
gatherings', mostly to laugh over the ease of Draco's conquests and Draco now
found himself able to shake off the unease that had dogged him so far that
morning ever since he'd woken up curled beside a statue in the charms corridor.
" Bugger," he murmured, filling his plate and grinning wolfishly at
Zabini, " Can't imagine why I'd block something good like that out
eh?"
Blaise watched with beautifully controlled mirth as his friend and leader began
stacking his plate high with the rich Sunday morning spread. "Can't
imagine." He purred before drowning his smile in pumpkin juice.
************
Harry had stumbled into the great hall only minutes before Malfoy had strolled
serenely in. He was greatly disheveled, having woken curled behind a large
statue in the charms corridor before staggering back half asleep to his dorms to
find it empty, the others having headed down to breakfast already. A quick
shower and a change of clothes hadn't helped to rouse Harry further and as he
felt his head dipping slowly towards the porridge Hermione had firmly placed
before him he dimly wondered why his felt as if Hagrid had been brewing fire
whisky in it. He lifted his head with great difficulty to ask Ron why the sun
was so much brighter today, to find the entire Gryffindor table staring at him.
`Big deal,' he thought to himself grumpily, `I'm not in the mood for the `Boy
who lived' shit today, all I want is for someone to remove my head and replace
it with a tea cosy and everything will be just fine.'
"Harry?" Ron screeched with all the volume of a hundred thunderstorms
before waving a deliberately and horribly confusing hand up and down before
Harry's unfocused gaze. "Gggmmmmffff." Harry moaned weakly in protest,
dropping his head back to the table, missing his breakfast by a few scant
centimeters. From far away it seemed, Harry heard Hermione cluck in mild
annoyance before he felt her blessedly cool wand tip against his forehead.
"Oh for Merlin's sake." She muttered before uttering a spell that
sounded complicated even to those without hangovers. Harry's head suddenly felt
as if someone had poured cool, clear water into it, washing the confusion and
fuzz from his brain, clearing his vision and clogging his ears against the
awful, evil bells that had somehow crept in there during the night. Harry sighed
and sat up, eyeing Hermione with the awe she so rightly deserved. "What was
`that'?" he murmured appreciatively, looking around the hall without
flinching for the first time that morning. Hermione looked smug, placing her
wand back on the table with a quelling glare at a near bursting Ron, "Its
my own invention Harry, like hair of the dog, just without the bite. You should
be ok now... Y'know, clear as a bell and all that?" Her tone had shifted
down from smug to offhandedly curious and Harry being the sweet innocent that he
is, saw nothing suspect in the many seventh years alternating curious looks
between him and a certain Slytherin, as he tucked into his rapidly cooling
porridge.
"Oh yeah," he mumbled, mouth full "S'much better now, thanks
Herm."
The table shifted, unsatisfied as Hermione toyed idly with her toast.
"So… good party, huh Harry?" There was a collective gasp, as
Hermione not only broached the subject they had all been dying to and with all
the subtlety of a sledgehammer to boot. "Umm yeah... guess so." Harry
mumbled again, happily oblivious as he squirted honey into his congealing
porridge. Ron reddened at his side as he tried desperately to not shake his best
friend. "Ummm…. You guess so mate? Don't you remember?" There was
another gasp. Apparently the lack of subtlety was contagious.
Harry stared off into space briefly, nose scrunching up as he thought hard.
"Nope."
"NOPE?" Ron shrieked, drawing an alarmed glance from Harry as his
voice shot up several octaves. Ron cleared his throat, glancing meaningfully at
the dark haired Slytherin who had raised eyebrows questioningly at Ron's
outburst. Hermione gestured subtly (AHA!) with one raised finger to the
surrounding tables that their answer was imminent, smiling as she caught
Malfoy's confused glance across the room. "What do you mean Har?" Ron
continued with renewed casualness, "Like `nope' you don't remember the
party at all or `nope' you don't remember…?" He left the question hanging
like the jaws of those around them, thinking he was about to give away the
actual event.
Harry shrugged, the ease of no lessons making him content and unsuspicious of
his, quite frankly, highly suspiciously acting friends. "Hmm.... Well I
remember Hermione dressing me up like a bloody Ken doll," he grinned; smile
widening as only a few people at the table got the reference, "And I
remember going to the Ummm `study party' and I remember you and Herm
disappearing into a room to `study' no doubt... and then I think I was playing
some stupid game with Zabini where you have to take a hit of some concoction of
his each time… something happened… everything gets kind of hazy after that
though. And then I woke up this morning in the `weirdest' place…"
"WHERE?" The Gryffindor table screamed in unison, startling Harry into
dropping the honey bottle into his bowl. "Umm the charms corridor."
Shoulders slumped all down the table in disappointment and Hermione looked
straight over the slouching students, giving Zabini a firm nod which was
countered by an evil grin as Blaise slipped from his seat, strolling casually up
to the teachers table.
A few moments later Dumbledore arose, eyes twinkling as if he'd eaten fireflies
on toast as breakfast, raising his hands for quiet. There was a noticeable air
of anticipation in the air and Harry twitched nervously in his chair, finally
catching on that he was most significantly missing something.
"Ladies and Gentlemen if I might have your attention for a brief moment. As
I'm sure you're all aware, last night was the annual Seventh Year Study party, a
long honoured tradition where the houses put aside all competition and discord
to come together for a night of harmony and meetings of minds." Both Snape
and McGonagall snorted at this but the Headmaster continued in his happily
eccentric manner as if staff members' snorting at the breakfast table was
commonplace."But, as is often the case here in Hogwarts, there are rules
that must be followed and such rules would now specify that the seventh year
students of Slytherin and Gryffindor meet after breakfast to settle affairs
between them. Naturally any 7th year students from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw who
should also wish to attend may do so, and I suggest this matter is dealt with
directly after lunch as such rules often lead to all kinds of… events and
celebrations."
Year groups 1 through 4 looked decidedly dubious at this speech, with 5 and 6
looking on with ill concealed envy as the 7th years all cheered and continued
wolfing down their breakfast in an attempt to make lunch come all the faster,
all aware of what such a meeting would entail.
Draco Malfoy hoped he hadn't been recorded on his bad side, not that he really
had one. Harry Potter hoped he hadn't been recorded and across the hall the
Gryffindors shared smirks with the Slytherins, united for once.
"How much I shall have to tell." Blaise murmured, glancing sideways at
Draco.
"How much I shall have to conceal." Murmured Hermione, glaring
warningly at the students who gazed upon Harry with hungry anticipation. A
momentary pang assailed her as Harry met her eyes, flashing his trusting grin at
her before she shooed the guilt away. Rules were rules after all.
****************
Lunch couldn't have come any quicker with at least a hundred or so students
willing it so. Food had been shoveled down necks with the exception of Harry who
was now slightly concerned as Ron had pushed his plate from him, shaking his
head in near sadness. " I wouldn't mate," he'd said, not meeting
Harry's eyes "You might have to see it again in a while otherwise."
They were all led to a large room by Blaise Zabini who, not surprisingly, had
stepped in as leader in Draco's stead, it being common knowledge to all but
Harry that Draco was one of the reasons the meeting was called. The room was
decked out with a multitude of comfortable chairs all facing the front of the
room where a large blank, sparkling screen had been set up.
"Look Herm, " Harry giggled, "It's a Wizard Cinema."
Hermione smiles weakly in response, drawing another worried look from Harry. He
found himself seated at the front with Ron and Hermione to his right and horror
of all horrors, Draco Malfoy to his left. He decided it might not be too bad
though, surveying the chairs themselves. They were similar to large squashy
armchairs and had at least a foot between them so although he was next to Malfoy
they weren't precisely close.
When everyone was seated and the anxious impatient murmuring had died down,
Blaise Zabini stepped to the front to stand by the enormous screen. "Hello
7th years, I'm Blaise Zabini and I'll be your host this afternoon." There
was a great amount of cheering from all houses as Zabini waved them back into
order. "Are we all comfortable? Well then, on with the show." He
grinned devilishly and suddenly Draco wasn't as sure as he had been of how much
he really wanted to see what had been recorded. Blaise seemingly guessed his
thoughts and mouthed the words `Too Late Now' causing Harry to look at Draco
sharply as Zabini touched his wand to the screen.
A clear cool voice filled the room "State the names of those
required." Blaise grinned again. "Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter."
Both boys stiffened in horror, realisation dawning on them in different degrees.
Harry simply knew he needed to get out of there, Draco recalling Zabini's
implications at the breakfast table. Both tried to jump to their feet to flee
but even as their names were spoken they found themselves bound magically to
their chairs. Harry looked wildly to his guilt ridden friends, eyes widening as
he realised they'd known the outcome of this visit. "Sorry Harry."
Whispered Ron, smiling weakly as Hermione nodded, smiling sadly, "It's the
rules."
Motion on the screen had everyone's head snapping back towards it, two with
dread, the rest with glee as the screen split into two halves: one side Harry's
entrance to the party and the other a beautifully captured moment when Draco had
looked over his shoulder to watch Harry's arrival. The hall caught its breath,
having forgotten or having had their reactions dulled by alcohol to each boy's
appearance the night before. It was instantly apparent that the night had been
the social event of the years spent at Hogwarts as both boys appeared to be
dressed better than any had seen them.
Draco was exquisitely attired in black fitted trousers of the finest cut, belted
low upon his pale hips that glimmered tantalisingly through the opaque black
silk shirt he wore, material bunching where it drew in to tight cuffs over
slender wrists, leaving the rest to glide over his smooth Quidditch toned form.
The shirt had been buttoned low, the vague shadow between his pectorals visible
here and there as his muscles flexed as he moved. He gave the impression of
perfected, old-fashioned elegance, his white gold hair left loose for once,
hanging softly across his brow, a stark contrast to the iffering shifting black
that draped his skin. One hand was resting in a pocket, casual and confident as
the other held a drink of dazzling blue, cradled almost lovingly in his palm. It
was this Draco blamed for a the vaguely appreciative look in his onscreen eyes
as he watched Potter's entrance before glancing over to side where Harry entered
in slow motion so that everyone might get a good look.
Potters outfit was somehow more breathtaking, Draco mused, because no one knew
just how well he would clean up seeing as he hadn't bothered before. But being
Quidditch Captain obviously agreed with Potter, now tall and more powerful than
Draco. His shoulders had broadened over the years, turning his awkward gait as a
youth into a manly sway, as if they controlled the sheer power of his body, his
walk now slow, deliberate. His new aura of control and caged animal grace was
aided by his outfit, which, though it hurt him to do it, Draco had to admire.
Although both in black, it was as though the boys had dressed to oppose each
other. Draco's trousers were of fine, conservative cut, only made to show the
length of his legs not cling to every muscle and sinew he way Potters sinfully
tight leathers were doing. Draco's shirt had been designed to cover but show all
that he wished people to see, a controlled sexiness to it that he'd been told
made people want to rip it from his body. Potters shirt was short sleeved,
displaying firm yet not overlarge biceps but that was where the display ended.
His shirt was matt black, showing nothing of the skin beneath nor clinging to
the muscles they all knew were there. What was the point? Draco mused then
smiling grimly as screen Potter lifted a hand to wave to someone unimportant and
the shirt shot upwards. How was it possible, Malfoy wondered as he let his eyes
roam over Harry's clearly visible pelvic girdle, for those trousers to fit so
tightly yet ride so low? He'd bet a hundred galleons Granger had something to do
with it he decided as his eyes drifted upwards, his breath catching despite him
as his eyes took in Harry's face. Green. Bright, unabashed, emerald green seemed
to pierce him even as he sat watching, his head shooting round to look at Potter
in question.
"Contacts." Harry muttered, staring at the floor. He had never been so
mortified in his life. He couldn't recall what had gone on the night before but
he knew that if it involved Malfoy in any small degree then it wouldn't be good.
The screen flickered and paused as Zabini stepped back into view, wand held
aloft.
"Now we know the players, allow me to set the scene." The lights
flickered and lowered and Harry was again reminded of the cinema although this
time he feared he had more to worry about than Dudley stealing his popcorn.
Zabini pointed at the screen, highlighting Draco's picture and bringing it
forward till it filled the screen much to Harry's relief. The feeling, however,
was short lived as Zabini grinned and unease assailed the two captive 7th years.
"Draco Malfoy," he began, "You all know him… some of you less
than others but it's the one's who know him best that concern our story today.
Hailed as the Silver Prince of Slytherin or the Slytherin Sex God… "
Harry snorted and Blaise shot him an amused look before continuing "Not so
hasty Mr Potter if you please, hailed as the Slytherin sex god, he has yet to
find anyone technically worthy of him. Many have tried and though I think its
fair to say that a good time is had by all, it's never been quite good enough,
eh Drake?" He winked at Draco, who cocked an eyebrow and told the voice
inside him who quivered with embarrassment to shut up. "As you all may or
may not know, depending on your social standing, Slytherin hosts many an
interesting soiree with women literally flinging themselves at our boy until it
became standard for them to even try it on in public."
Blaise cast a disparaging look towards the Hufflepuffs "And by try it on
children I'm implying that they tried to Ummm `bed him' in public view with one
former student even going so far as to actually go down on him as he sat talking
with his friends."
Ron snorted in disbelief, muttering "What friends?" Amusement spurring
Harry into speaking up.
"Is there a point coming at all today Zabini or can you wake me when its
time to leave?"
Blaise repressed the desire to laugh maniacally. "Oh it's coming alright
Potter. It's coming." Draco's eyes widened and as he opened his mouth to
yell at Zabini, having caught onto the horrific train of thought his friend was
following he found himself unable to speak, Blaise's wand pointed directly at
him.
"Now, now Draco. You've had your fun so sit quiet while I have mine,
there's a good boy." Draco thrashed against his bindings, furious at his
friends implications and all Potter could do was stare at him like he was an
escaped lunatic.
"Moving onwards boys and girls… one girl decided to try and woo him with
her Ummm skills without bothering to move it to a more private setting. Draco,
being the gentlemen that he is (more snorts from Ron) allowed her to do as she
pleased and was able to maintain his conversation without missing a beat."
A wave of the wand and suddenly Draco saw the oft played clip of him, talking
earnestly with someone, the shot carefully edited so that it was only obvious by
the motions of the top of the girls head as to what she was doing. Draco
suddenly blinked, once, twice before smiling and sighing contentedly, winking as
the girl sat back up. His mouth quirked, "Thank you." He drawled and
the image froze again. Harry's face flamed, having found himself unable to tear
his eyes from the screen as Draco came with such casual indifference.
Blaise stepped forward once again; grinning at the death glare he was now
receiving from his silenced housemate. "News spread quickly of Draco's
composure, drawing more interested parties forward all sure they could shatter
his control." He gestured at the screen "That folks, is from two years
ago and STILL no-one could shatter the Ice Prince. It became a bet; the Sneekee-Peek
used at `every' social gathering so that when he broke it would be well
documented. The prize money had reached 500 galleons at last count."
Murmurs broke out amongst the room, some appalled, some enthralled, all hungry
for more.
Blaise grinned, gesturing again with wand and shot after shot of Draco smiling
or exhaling sharply mid sentence filled the screen, all amused shortly
afterwards, still perfectly composed and all perfectly humiliating if you were
one of the two boys awaiting the reason for the meeting.
"Oh God he didn't." Draco whispered in his head, eyes fixed now on the
floor.
"Oh god I didn't." Harry begged himself fervently, eyes screwed shut.
The exhalations stopped, the murmured sardonic `thankyous' stopped and everyone
gazed with bated breath at Blaise.
"Without further ado then, I give you… last night."
The dimmed lights flickered again before going out completely as the light from
the screen lit the room in muted blues and silvers, night seeming to fall
shortly after lunch for those students. The screen sifted through many images,
couples laying around on cushions acting as if they were alone, drinking games
with half and mostly naked students laughing, a cupboard where people were
pulling names from hats and being sent in for the fabled seven minutes, a
leather sofa where Harry Potter sat making drunken conversation with a redheaded
Slytherin girl, chairs and stools crowded around as they all discussed love,
life, magic and alcohol.
"Hey Marchand, you're in my place." Draco drawled from off screen,
tumbling over the back of the sofa in a somehow graceful heap, as the awestruck
Marchand slipped from the sofa to a chair, gazing in awe at the drunken Prince
of Slytherin.
Harry smiled slightly as he watched his screen self sigh and roll his eyes in
disgust at Malfoy's actions. "You got a problem Potter?"
"Yeah, you treat all your housemates like that?" Screen-Draco took a
lazy sip from his drink, now startlingly purple. "No." He laughed,
"I treat `everyone' like that Potter."
Screen-Harry looked appalled but managed to shake his had in wry amusement.
"That sucks Malfoy."
Unseen Screen-Blaise's voice cut through, laughing hard "Name something
that doesn't!"
Screen-Harry's brow furrowed. "What?" More laughter, "Name
something that `doesn't' suck Malfoy!" All the Slytherins around the table
laughed with the exception of Draco, who merely shrugged, smiling as the other
house members looked confused, Harry included.
"Naughty, naughty." Draco thought, as he watched Blaise explaining the
bet to the others "No-one outside the house is supposed to know about
that… if I weren't going to kill him for this, we'd have to have words."
A shout sounded on screen as the cupboard door was pulled open and half the
table ran over to see the progress of the pair inside, leaving Harry and Draco
on the sofa. Harry was shaking his head and Draco watched himself sigh
long-sufferingly. "What now Potter? Your Gryffindor sensibilities in an
uproar are they?" Harry shook his head firmly, before taking a large drink
from his glass.
Draco tore his eyes from the screen as Harry shrunk back in his seat, whispering
fervently "No, no I could `not' have been drunk enough to suck him off…
no way. No `fucking' way."
The Slytherin felt something in his blood step up at the sound of the supposed
`prim' Gryffindor saying `suck him off' and as he considered the possibility
that it might be exactly what was about to occur, complete with him likely
losing it in orgasm, he wished he'd had the sense to arrange his robes about him
as images poured through his head, carrying his blood to places best left
ignored in public.
"I just can't see how no-one beaten you yet." Screen Harry stated and
Draco winced as his screen counterpart laughed, "Well no-one's tried
actually beating me off, Potter," he paused to sneer and Draco knew an odd
moment of clairvoyance realising what he was about to say as the origin of this
mess "Gee, that is unless you're offering Potter?"
The room caught its breath, Harry and Draco included before exhaling in relief
as Potter burst out laughing. "Oh please… one: Like I need 500 galleons,
two: I'd rather cut my own arm off, three..."
Screen-Draco cut in, "You couldn't do it if you tried." Screen-Harry's
head shot round to glare and both real Harry and Draco groaned as they saw the
challenge hovering between them onscreen. Slowly screen Harry put down his glass
with great deliberation and triumph lit screen Draco's face.
"Leaving so soon Potter? Things were just getting interesting." Harry
shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere, I just refuse to get into such a fucking
pointless argument with you when you're just trying to get a rise out of
me."
"Oh I'm giving you a rise am I Potter, just the `thought' of me doing it
for you, is it?"
"Fuck you."
"Bet you'd like to."
"Don't make me fucking slap you."
"Ooh how kinky Potter, first you want to beat me off now you want to play
rough... Got many fetishes have we?"
As the comments came faster and the two boys on screen moved inevitably closer,
greens eyes flashing ire, silver flashing with cool amusement as the entire room
leant forwards in its seat, waiting, just waiting.
Screen Harry ground his teeth and bit out "I don't want to fucking beat you
off!"
Screen Draco winked, thoroughly enjoying himself and both real Harry and Draco
took some comfort in the fact that this looked to be a fight gone horribly wrong
rather than a full out make-out session. Maybe, they both hoped, maybe they just
kissed, that would surely be sensational enough for the two rivals... maybe just
maybe...
Screen-Draco leaned in close to Potter, deliberately invading his personal
space, "Yeah, you do," he hissed, causing most of the female audience
to moan softly, "You just know you couldn't make me come so you won't admit
it."
Draco's jaw fell open, his brain searching through all his knowledge for a way
to make him have not just said that. Screen Potter moved suddenly, seizing
screen Draco's legs and hauling them from beneath him so the Slytherin was
unceremoniously sprawled on his back and dragged forwards till Harry straddled
him. Vaguely Draco heard Potter whimper in horror as the brunet on screen leant
down to hiss into his face "Not only am I `not' going to beat you off but
you are going to come `so' hard Malfoy and you're going to come when `I' tell
you to, ok? Good."
And with that Screen Harry crashed his lips downwards over Screen Draco's. There
were voices all exclaiming on the screen and voices exclaiming in the room and
Draco risked a glance sideways at Potter who's eyes were still fixed on the
screen, teeth clenched, knuckles white around the arms of his chair. Malfoy
turned back to witness the horror himself, watching as screen Harry pinned the
now struggling screen Draco, holding his arms down against the sofa, hips
pinning hips as screen Harry bit down on screen Draco's lower lip. A gasp echoed
around the room and on screen once more as this action seemed to halt Draco's
struggles, his lips parting obediently as again Malfoy felt the heat rising in
his groin watching screen Harry thrusting his tongue into his screen self's
mouth.
The gasp onscreen was cut short as Blaise suddenly stepped into view again,
pausing the screen just as screen Draco seemed to be responding to the kiss.
Beaming, Blaise addressed the crowd, "Now remember folks, all it takes for
young Harry to win the bet is just one noise of appreciation from young Draco.
All we have had before have been vague sighs and catches in breath; winning
requires an actual moan, groan, whimper or any vocal indication of pleasure on
Draco's part. Alcohol is not an issue here, our Mr Malfoy has been much, much
more drunk than this before and still escaped without more than a sigh and a
polite `thank you very much.' Talking does `not' count unless it is vocal
appreciation i.e. `yes, oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes just like that, oh yeah' versus
`so how about this weather'."
Appreciative laughter filled the room and Draco tore his eyes from Blaise to
find Harry staring at him, horror, confusion and something Draco couldn't quite
place flickering in his gaze before Harry turned back to the screen.
"On with the show." Blaise resumed his seat as the recording sprang
back into life, screen Harry's tongue flitting carefully over the lip he'd just
bitten, soothing and tasting all at once. Malfoy watched in amazement as his
screen self submitted within seconds, head tilting slightly, rising off the
cushions to meet Harry's lips, tongues dueling, briefly, wetly before Harry sank
back into the welcoming warmth of Draco's mouth. He released the Slytherins
hands and for a moment Draco thought he might throw him off but watched, hope
fading as his hands twined in Harry's hair, clutching at his shoulders, trying
to pull him closer from his kneeling stance over his prone form. Screen Harry
brought a hand up, cupping Draco's throat, turning his head this way and that at
his whim, kissing this side of his mouth, devouring him at any angle he wished.
The other hand moved downwards and Draco watched in sudden understanding of his
half dressed state that morning as Harry forcibly ripped the silk shirt from his
body.
Harry watched in horror and shaming arousal as his screen self tore the material
from Draco's firm white abdomen, glad he'd worn thick robes when he watched his
and Draco's tongues battling in the space between their lips as screen Harry
pulled back from devouring Draco's mouth to take breath before sinking in again.
He had never, ever thought of touching or kissing Draco in this way but as he
watched he felt bombarded by sensations, good strong, arousing sensations, only
the thought that Ron was next to him, most likely horribly grossed out by this
kept Harry from moaning as he watched Draco's body buck beneath his as his
fingers pinched and tweaked Draco's smooth pink nipples.
Draco shifted, watching as Harry's mouth moved from his own, now conspicuously
damp and swollen, trailing hot, wet kisses down his throat to his collar bone,
cursing the fact that he couldn't recall these sensations when he realised he
had the power to move again. He shifted again, aware now that he could move his
arms slightly from their rests. Struggling slightly, yet fortunately hidden by
the darkness, he slowly moved his arm across, plucking at his robe as he went,
trailing it over his lap, hiding his now obvious pleasure in the recording from
the world. He noticed too, that Harry was now breathing heavily through his
nose, quick, fast panicked breaths and Draco felt a flash of shame for taking
pleasure in something Harry so plainly was disturbed by.
Harry watched, trying hard not to make any small noise of want or longing as he
watched himself trailing his tongue over Draco's ribcage, criss-crossing over
the neatly delineated stomach muscles, Draco thrashing beneath the onslaught,
eyes screwed shut. He's probably picturing someone else, Harry decided glumly,
shivering as screen Draco bit down hard on his lip, arching as screen Harry
circled his belly button with his tongue. He let his eyes sneak sideways,
passing over the real Draco who slumped in his chair like he was watching the
end of the world. He's going to despise me, even more than before, Harry
realised sadly.
And then it happened. Draco's body bucked upwards beneath Harry, the circling
tongue now suddenly dipping and thrusting deep into his bellybutton, back and
forth, rapidly, mimicking pleasures as yet untouched on. As Harry's tongue shot
in and out, lapping and probing, Draco's hands tightened in his hair, pulling
the brunet's face closer in, releasing his lower lip from his teeth to hiss an
unmistakable "Yesss… oh gods fuck, yeesssss Potter."
Both Malfoy and Potter shot forwards in their seats, jaws dropping as an amazed
shout came from off screen, Blaise's voice, drunk and triumphant "Merlin's
Beard! He's done it! Potter won the bet!"
Draco waited for Blaise to stop the recording, shooting him a angry confused
glare at which point Blaise paused the recording once more just as Harry moved
his mouth to bite down on a nipple, the pause occurring just seconds before his
teeth closed therefore drawing a displeased cry from the audience.
"Sorry Folks, but I'm getting angry glares from our stars and I just wanted
to point out that I haven't turned it off after proving that Harry won the bet
because Harry here made his own wager with Draco… who remembers what it
was?"
Many anguished hands shot up, wanting the recording back on with all due haste.
Blaise pointed, smiling like a quiz show host "Justin Finch Fletchley...
what was it?"
"Harry said he'd make him come `really hard' and that he'd do it when Harry
told him to."
Blaise smiled broadly "Well, looks who's been paying attention. That'd be
ten house points if I could give them Justin. Now… Back to the entertainment
methinks." Blaise turned to point his wand at the screen when a quiet but
firm voice piped up. "Wait."
Blaise turned to look at Harry, eyebrow raised in a distinctly Malfoy-esque
fashion. "Yes Harry?" He purred, loving the look of total
embarrassment and unwilling arousal on Draco's face as he kept his eyes averted
from the Gryffindor. "You've clearly already seen this Zabini… how the
hell much longer until you stop torturing us and let us go?" Draco was
touched that Harry said `us' in that softly spoken, sexy as all get-up you
`will' respect me voice but the feeling was quickly squashed by Blaise
deliberately winking at the crowd and drawling (in addition to stealing his
smirk) "Well I guess that depends on how long dear Draco lasts doesn't
it?"
The lights dimmed again, Harry's teeth closed about Draco's nipple and he
groaned, deep and hard in his throat, biting his lips again. Blaise's voice cut
across the now mutual moans as Harry crushed his lips to Draco's once again,
"Bloody hell, does that make Potter a two time winner?"
"Malfoy." It was hissed, insistent in his ear and Draco jumped,
looking round to find Potter had indeed discovered he could move as well and had
leaned across the gap.
"What?" Draco hissed back, trying to not sound as embarrassed or as
turned on as he truly was... more horrified to discover his voice had been
returned to him than he had been to lose it.
"Well, I… its your body, how long until... You know, d'y'think?"
Draco noticed that although Harry had moved, his eyes were still fixed upon the
screen as he turned to watch and think he cringed as his screen self wrapped his
long legs about screen Harry who now lay almost completely atop him grinding
down against him with almost as much desperation as he was grinding upwards. He
watched as his own hands crept round to clench hard on Harry's ass, slipping
beneath the leather to the left to cup and squeeze one cheek. This action
brought the two into closer contact and screen Draco mewed helplessly against
screen Harry's mouth, gasping between kisses for much needed oxygen, Draco's
eyes drawn to the small expanse of pale flesh, the very top of Harry's left
cheek where his hand grasped and clung. Draco thanked all the Gods going for
small mercies as he realised that squeezing was all his screen self planned. A
delicious shudder passed through him at the thought of entering Harry's body in
such a way, he'd never tried it but watching his hand clutching innocently made
him wish he could just sink his fingers or more into Harry's warm welcome body.
He shuddered again, then realising Harry's eyes were now on him, he remembered
the question.
"I, uh... umm… couldn't say Potter. Kind of looks like you're running the
show from here." Harry flushed and sat back, both boys attention flickering
back to the screens as the pair's gyrations became more frantic, moaning deeply
into each other's mouths when suddenly Harry sat back.
A groan came now from the Harry beside him, mortification sending the `boy who
lived's head to his chest in defeat as now Draco and indeed everyone saw exactly
how revealing the leather trousers could be. But as Harry continued to move
backwards from a softly whimpering Draco, it became clear that well fit linen
trousers were equally as unhelpful in the concealment department. Both boys
erections strained against their trousers, so obviously, painfully hard the
material had moulded itself like second skin, pushing urgently against its
counterpart.
The odd moan and whimper came from the audience both on and off screen and
Draco's own erection withered slightly at the thought of others getting off to
his pleasure, pleasure he couldn't even recall. Harry's movements on screen were
becoming slightly clearer as he lay down once more, deliberately keeping his
lower half free from Draco's as he moved in to kiss him again.
The picture froze. Blaise stood again looking, Draco noted with a smirk,
decidedly flustered, his shirt untucked and hanging low. "Ladies and
Gentlemen." He began in a slightly quavering voice "The Money
Shot." Harry and Draco's heads shot round, eyes meeting in panic before
zapping back up to the screen as the volume increased greatly, Draco's quick
breaths suddenly echoing about the room. Harry kissed Draco again, tenderly,
almost lovingly and the soft, wet sounds of Harry's lips and tongue against his
nearly sent Draco over the edge. He whimpered softly and found to his utmost
surprise, a warm hand gripping his own. "S'ok, " Potter whispered
voice cracking, "S'nearly over."
Screen Harry ended the kiss, turning his face sideways to nuzzle Draco's ear,
tongue tracing the shell like delicacy of the ridges. "Come for me."
He demanded softly, "Now."
And to everyone's surprise, (excluding Blaise and Screen Harry) Draco did.
"Oh gods, yes, Harry...fuck… yessssssss."
Harry coloured as screen Draco's hips shot up, thrusting against an unseen
force, watching as his screen self smoothed a hand down over Draco's chest and
stomach to rest just over his belt, pushing Draco back into place beside him to
kiss him again. Screen Draco whimpered, still thrusting faintly as if riding out
the last of his orgasm, murmuring quietly between kisses. "So good,
Harry… so good."
Both Harry and Draco gasped aloud, realising suddenly that screen Draco had
actually screamed and moaned `Harry' and not Potter. They looked at each other
in shock then back to the ground, colour rushing into their faces in greater
degrees.
The screen flickered and froze again, Blaise standing before them. "Thank
you all for coming." He purred and Draco's head shot up, an angry rebuttal
on his lips, starting as Harry's "Fuck You Zabini!" rent the air.
"Tut, tut, Mr Potter. What will Draco think?" Both Harry and Draco
made to leap from their seats only to find the barriers holding them firm again.
Blaise smiled warmly at the rest of the group. "Everything that has
happened in this room will remain undisclosed to others. Tell others and dig
your own grave. This meeting is adjourned."
Students glancing at the now raging, spitting, hissing duo hurried past all
wanting to work off the excess energy the display had given them, most dragging
others into nearby classrooms to discuss or 're-enact' with only Ron, Hermione
and Blaise left behind with the two blushing, angry boys.
"Sorry Harry." Hermione whispered and Harry stopped struggling,
glaring at her. "Look, " he ground out, "I know this was the
rules, I know that technically this is mine and his fault anyway but could you
please get us the `fuck' out of these chairs?"
Ron stepped forward immediately to unbind them, mumbling sorry too, redder than
his families hair combined as he considered Harry's use of the word `us'.
"Wait," Zabini said, all bravado temporarily cast off. "This
one's my friend and...." Draco cut him off, snarling, "Yeah, it really
fucking shows too, you asshole!"
Blaise ignored him, focusing on Ron and Hermione. "Look, aside from the fun
I had getting one up on Draco here I actually thought this might be good for
them… their binds run out in just a bit as it is so we can leave them here to
sort out their ...Uhm …situation or we can set them loose and watch them kill
each other and then us."
Ron glared at Blaise, "You never said anything about embarrassing Harry,
you said it'd take Malfoy down a few fucking pegs."
Blaise grinned impishly "Well it did and technically your mate `did' come
out on top…" Both Harry and Draco made another bid for freedom, howling
with rage by now, Ron stepping forward to free his friend until Hermione stepped
between them.
"Ron, wait a sec. I think he has a point… they do have some Erm issues to
sort out and it'll give them time to cool off too."
"What?" Harry shrieked, "No way Herm, look I'm fine we're fine,
aren't we fine Malfoy?"
Draco nodded desperately, "Oh god yeah fine as fine as uhm fine just let us
out already."
Blaise was giggling helplessly and Draco swivelled in his chair to whisper
menacingly
"What's. So. Fucking. Funny. Now?"
Blaise pointed at Draco, tears of mirth rolling down his face. "You, its
you, you said `Oh god yeah when he asked if you if you were fine…" Blaise
flung back his head and cried melodramatically "Oh yes Potter I mean Harry,
yes God fuck god fuck yes, yes… yes… YES!"
Harry thrashed against his bonds, growling as Draco roared, "I'm going to
fucking kill you!"
Zabini jumped out of reach, "All in favour of a cooling off period say
Aye!"
"Aye!" Yelled Ron and Hermione, as the three ran for the door.
"Sorry Harry!" Ron called over his shoulder and then the door slammed
shut.
"Fucking, wanking, BASTARDS!" Harry yelled, slumping in his chair,
exhausted from trying to break loose as Draco let himself be cradled by the
bonds, leaning forwards, pale with anger and humiliation.
"Potter." He mumbled.
"Yeah."
"Our friends suck."
"Wankers."
"Bastards."
"But we get to kill them soon, right?"
"Right."
"In just a bit."
"They're as good as dead."
"Yup."
"Yup."
"Malfoy?"
"Potter."
"Are we going to talk about this?"
"No."
"Fine."
"…"
Draco let his head fall back, eyes closed, weary and beyond embarrassment
suddenly.
"Did `you' want to talk about it Potter?"
"Uhm… only if you think we should."
"I guess we should."
"You do?"
"I do."
Despite himself, Harry burst out laughing.
"Look Malfoy it was just one night…. We don't need to get married."
"You're not fucking funny Potter."
"Sorry."
"So stop laughing."
Tears were now streaming down Harry's cheeks. "Can't," he gasped,
"Spent so long, watching that, that `thing' and all I could do was watch
and then we got mad and now I think I'm just going to laugh till I die."
"Well get on with it then."
"Oh don't be funny Malfoy my sides hurt."
"Who's being funny?"
"Stop it already!"
"I'm not `being' funny Potter!" Draco's mouth was starting to twitch.
"Don't you laugh!"
"I'm not"
"You fucking well are!"
"Fucking well?"
"Looked alright to me!"
Both boys dissolved into tears of laughter, trying to clutch at their sides with
hands that couldn't be moved from the armrests until they both slumped forwards
onto their barriers, bodies heavy with laughter and exhaustion.
Harry's fringe had flopped forward over his eyes and the still grinning
Gryffindor blew upwards, trying to relocate the ebony strands as Draco rolled
his eyes in mock impatience. "Honestly Potter, " he drawled leaning
close "Can't you do `anything' right?"
Harry's eyebrows quirked at this and Draco reddened, muttering a quiet `shut up'
and forcefully blowing the hair from Harry's eyes. The two boys stared at each
other, the moment held in deadlock as each regarded the other with an uneasy
mixture of wariness and awareness before Harry hesitantly wet his lips to speak.
"Malfoy I…" He trailed off, noting the colour flooding Draco's face
as his eyes followed the path that Harry's tongue tip had taken before Malfoy
guiltily raised his eyes to met Harry's, both boys blushing more than the
Hogwarts Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy Appreciation Society's put together.
" I," Harry murmured again, eyes widening in shock as their bonds gave
suddenly, tipping both wizards to the floor.
They lay there for a few seconds, breath coming in gasps of surprise and impact
with the floor before Harry sat up, smiling jubilantly, punching the air in
triumph. "Yes!" He cried, jumping to his feet and hauling Draco to
his, "Free! Free at last, ha-ha free I tell you ...FREE!" Draco let
out a most undignified whoop and turned to kick his chair as Harry flipped his
the bird.
"What say we blow this Popsicle stand Mr Malfoy?" Harry intoned mock
courteously, gesturing elegantly towards the doors, their mutual relief keeping
the boys in high spirits for the time being.
"Oh absolutely Mr Potter, in fact, let us depart this very moment."
Harry nodded, still smiling beatifically as he extended an arm, bowing slightly
as he gestured, palm out towards the door once more. "After You." He
murmured solicitously. Draco walked ahead, smiling before halting after a few
strides, mimicking Harry's posture, "No, no dear boy," he demurred
silkily "After `you'." Harry giggled and Draco cursed himself for the
little tickling waves of happiness it caused within him to hear it. They managed
this way all the way up to the door, each laughing a little more as their bows
became more elaborate, their voices switching between subservient (in
A startled gasp had them pulling away from one another, paling as they each
recognised the attractive redhead whose seat Draco had usurped before his little
`run in' with Harry. Harry gulped and Draco summoned every reserve of Malfoy
poise he had, nodding cordially at his housemate. "Marchand." He
murmured before steering Harry away down the next corridor and away from her
steadily glazing green eyes.
Harry exhaled wearily, "Bugger." He muttered, recalling the reason for
his and Draco's enforced companionship. "Nah, maybe later." Malfoy
grinned, semi-awkwardly and despite the furious rush of his blood to his face
and nether regions, Harry grinned too and they continued on, walking nowhere,
each aware that something in the dynamics of their relationship had shifted.
Malfoy stretched his arms above his head, relishing the pop of each vertebrae
snapping back into place as he cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "Potter…
what's a Popsicle stand?"
Laughter echoed, bouncing off the walls and running amok in the corridors,
tantalising others with snatches of happy sounds as the two boys walked
together, talking of nothing and laughing at everything, glowing in the
discovery of this `something new' between them.
Harry had just finished explaining the delights of Pizza to Draco, (`Flat bread
and whatever you want on top? Really? Think the house elves would make us one?')
When his steps faltered and he blushed furiously once more, regret shining in
his eyes as he came to a full stop. "This is me." He mumbled.
Draco lifted his eyes from Harry's to see a portrait of an obese woman leering
at them and licking her lips lecherously as she took in the boy's nonchalant
proximity to each other. Draco tipped his head to one side, looking
distastefully at the afore mentioned fat woman, sneering as she blushed. "I
don't know Potter," he drawled in a perfect imitation of the person he'd
been before their little drinking debacle " Sure, you're ugly… but `that'
ugly?"
Harry laughed before shooting the Fat Lady an apologetic look. "No Malfoy
this is my stop, Gryffindor territory." Malfoy nodded mock seriously before
staring at his perfect shoes, "Can I come in?" he mumbled. Harry
blinked several times, jaw agape as he stared hard at Draco. "You `want' to
come in with me? Into the `Gryffindor' common room?"
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as if Harry had asked the most inane
question in the world, "Well I need `something' to do Potter between now
and when I come up with a master plan to murder Zabini and I just figured why
not a guided tour of what I've heard rumoured to be the tackiest rooms in the
castle but if you don't want me to come in I can just, Y'know…" He jerked
his had sideways as if to indicate his departure, blushing even before he met
Harry's amused gaze.
"You're nuts, you know that yeah?" Harry chuckled, noting Draco's
shortness of breath after delivering his nervous sentence and Draco grinned,
abashed. "Yeah but at least I'm not ugly." Harry laughed delightedly,
the noise sending tremors up and down Draco's spine like little fingers of flame
as the Gryffindor jerked his head towards the portrait. "C'mon then, you
daft bugger."
"You forgot gorgeous." Draco purred as they stood before the picture
and Harry's voice trembled on a laugh as he solemnly stated `Toasted
Marshmallows' and the portrait swung open.
The first thing to strike the two boys as they stood gaping into the room was
that finally Slytherin and Gryffindor had found something to bond over as they
noted all their housemates assembled, grinning like maniacs without proper
medication. The second was the two huge banners that swung gently in a charmed
breeze, one alternating between flashing green and silver letters that spelt out
`WelCOME to Gryffindor, Malfoy' and flashing red and gold, spelling out `Just
Do It… Cos Harry said to!' with the second banner merrily flashing all the
colours of the rainbow and declaring to all assembled `Gryffindors do it…
with SLYTHERINS!'
"How did they know I'd come here?" Draco murmured, torn between
confusion and total mortification and Harry growled softly as Ron, Hermione and
Blaise waved to them from within the room, Ron waggling his eyebrows furiously
as he clasped a highly suspicious and `map'-like piece of parchment.
Harry slammed the portrait, the sounds of many disappointed `awwwwws' coming
from within.
"How sweet," Draco spat scathingly, "they've bonded."
"Malfoy."
"Our friends suck?"
"Got it in one."
"Just a thought Potter," Draco spoke quickly, stepping away from the
now dreamily smiling Fat Lady, "But shouldn't we be blowing this Popsicle
stand thingy before they come out to torment and ruin our young lives yet
again?"
Harry glanced nervously at the entrance to his rooms, "Yeah, yeah I guess
so but where'll we go? Ron's got my enchanted map so they'll know wherever we go
anyway."
Draco raised one elegant eyebrow. "Enchanted Map?"
"Marauders Map, my fathers, family heirloom now come on, we've got to get
out of here! Where can we go?" He was starting to sound quite panicked and
as Draco recalled the outcome of the Slytherins and Gryffindors working together
before, he started to feel just a touch uneasy himself. A bright smile split his
face suddenly and he yelled "Gottit!" before seizing Harry's hand and
ran, half dragged Harry with him down the corridor.
He managed to drag the startled Gryffindor all the way down to the dungeons
before Harry finally had the presence of mind to dig his heels in and demand an
explanation. "What the HELL are you up to Malfoy?" He panted, chest
heaving and sweat shining on his skin, giving Draco ideas he'd rather not
entertain at that time. He turned to face Harry, glancing nervously over the
brunet's shoulders for signs of impending spectators. "Look Potter, what do
you think those sickos up there would do if they thought I'd dragged you down
here to pick up where we left off last night?"
Harry flushed and grinned, "Umm demand ringside seats?" Malfoy
considered this for a moment before conceding, blushing also as he recalled the
moans heard in the `audience' during their little debut onscreen. "Ok,
ok… then what would they do if they thought I'd dragged you down here to lock
you in my own room, just us, you and me, to make wild, mad, passionate love to
you?" He tilted his head to one side, reflecting on their past antics.
"Or vice versa." He murmured.
Potter had deepened to a glorious shade of maroon during this little hypothesis,
"Eep," he squeaked drawing an amused glance from the equally ruby
coloured Slytherin before clearing his throat. "I guess umm, I guess they'd
give us their blessings and wait to grill us for information later on?"
Draco grinned triumphantly; "Exactly and when they check that little map
thing of yours and see us together in my dorm you can bet that's precisely what
those sick bastards will think we're up to." Harry beamed and Draco felt
the bottom fall out of his stomach. "C'mon then," he said gruffly,
"S'this way."
Moments later the two were collapsing with ill concealed relief on the inner
side of the Slytherins portrait, Harry still giggling from hearing that the
Slytherins password was `Batfink'. (What? It's a perfectly good password for
those who live in the dark and aspire to greatness!)
"Oh thank Merlin! Safe at last!" Draco groaned, staggering forward to
sag limply, face down across a leather sofa. An odd noise had him turning his
face to stare at a once again heavily blushing Harry.
"Problem Potter?" He drawled half muffled by his face turned into the
leather.
"Its, Ummm, its `that' sofa again."
Draco sat up, chuckling as he sat round and patted the space beside him.
"C'mon Potter, its just furniture, it won't bite." Harry moved to sit
by him, shooting him a mischievous look as he scanned Draco's throat with a
searching glance. "Nope," he agreed softly, "That was
me."
Draco coloured and rubbed self consciously at his throat, "Marking your
territory, how dreadfully Gryffindor of you Harry."
"Harry?" Harry purred, mocking the casual use of his name and Draco
rolled his eyes, groaning in defeat and propping his feet on the low table
before them. Harry laughed, copying the motion and sighing blissfully as the
weight was taken from his aching feet.
"Ahhh," he sighed happily " Much better. I am `so'
exhausted."
"Mmm," Draco concurred closing his eyes, "Thought we'd never get
free from those chairs earlier or lose that lust crazed lot."
"Yeah, and Y'know…. Last night was…must have been… tiring."
"Mmm I know what you mean, my muscles were practically screaming when
I woke up today."
Harry snorted, "Oh please," he scorned "I did all the bloody
work!"
Draco's eyes shot open and he sat up, outraged. "What the hell does that
mean? I did just as much work I'm sure!" Harry simply snorted again.
"I did too!" Draco yelled, "How much work could it possibly take
to bloody thrust `downwards' all the time? You've got gravity on your side! I
was the one grinding up against it!"
Harry drew his feet back from the table, "Its not about direction, I was
supporting my weight `and' holding you down and…"
"You were `not' holding me down!"
"Bloody was."
"Were not!"
"Oh I suppose you were completely willing then were you?"
"Mostly."
"Yeah but to start with I `was' holding you down, holding `me' up `and'
thrusting down against you… I think that requires significantly more effort
than just writhing about beneath me."
" I was not writhing…"
"You just said you weren't struggling."
"Yeah but I wasn't writhing, writhing makes it seem like I was just some
bloody first year Hufflepuff groupie you were grinding on… now if you say I
was thrusting, or thrashing, undulating beneath you…"
"`Undulating'?'" Harry smirked and Draco scowled. "Shut it
Potter, you know what I mean... I just meant it has to be something more
masculine than writhing and…"
"And you thought `undulating' would be better?"
"Oh fuck off Potter!"
Harry laughed softly and nudged Draco's shoulder playfully with the heel of his
hand. " C'mon Malfoy, lighten up. I'm only teasing… its not like either
of us really knows what it was like anyway."
"What?" Draco mumbled and Harry shook his head, blushing slightly as
regret seemed to tinge his features. " I just mean… even after that whole
deal with the Sneekee-Peek I've got no real memories of the events so therefore
have no clue what it felt like to…" he gestured slowly, waving his hand
back and forth between their bodies and Draco could almost feel the electricity
crackle off of Harry's hand and onto his skin as it neared him. Harry raised an
eyebrow "Unless you…?"
"No!" Draco started, lost in trying to imagine the Gryffindors touch
and taste and fighting back the deep resentment that he had no recollection at
all of such things. "No."
"Yeah," sighed Harry sitting back again, "It's a pity really, I
could have done with one nice memory of you before we graduate this
summer."
Draco smacked his shoulder, fighting a blush, "What, like always beating me
at Quidditch's not good enough for you anymore?"
Harry smirked, "Nah…. I'm spoilt now Malfoy, outclassing you on a
broomstick's become commonplace. I've had you `undulating' beneath me now…
I'll never be the same again!" He clasped a hand to his heart and sighed
dramatically, gazing lovingly at Draco.
`Shit,' Draco mused `If I'd known just wriggling around and screaming his name
when I come would make him look at me like that I'd have invited him to view my
wet dreams sometime.' He blushed, glaring at Harry half-heartedly; worried that
somehow the other wizard would hear his thoughts. A crooked smile played about
his lips. "Oh shut up." He muttered, too lost in awareness to be truly
angry.
Harry's heart faltered in his chest at the sexy half smile hovering at the edges
of Draco's scowl. `Merlin,' he whispered in his head `He's so beautiful.' Voice
cracking slightly, smile wavering he went back to his `over adulation' routine.
"Oh my… looks, tight trousers `and' witty comebacks! You've `ruined' me
for other men Draco!" He scolded playfully.
Draco rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, pulling his feet back off the
table, knocking a small black glass dish to the floor where an ominous death
crack speared through it instantly, like lightning.
"Bugger." Harry breathed, brow furrowing worriedly. Draco shot the
concerned Gryffindor an amused look. Living with Muggles had obviously given
Potter a deeper set anxiety over ornaments, a quick charm would put it to right
in seconds but Harry's expression was priceless.
"Yes please." Draco whispered, almost involuntarily and Harry's head
shot round. "Come again?" He blurted, turning crimson at Draco's loud
laugh before shaking his, as if to clear something from his ears. "What did
you say?"
"Yes please." Harry's eyes became as round as a house elf's and Draco
laughed, smothering the surge of hope and arousal that had come from Harry's
keen hearing. "S'alright Potter. Just kidding."
Harry let out a short harsh breath through his nose, trying not to look
disappointed. "Oh ok," he drawled offhandedly, "pity."
Now Draco had whiplash. "What?"
"Just kidding." Both boys smirked, looked away blushing, looked back
and blushed more, eyes locked, giving away nothing but mild amusement and
frustration.
`So, this is how we're going to play it,' thought Draco with rising hope and
libido, `he wants me, thank you Raistlin, he wants me… but I'll be damned if I
make the first move.'
`Oh Merlin he wants me!!! God he's so hot…. Be strong, be strong' Harry
lectured himself sternly `Let him make the first move…'
Both boys looked at the floor, then at each other, then at the floor, then at
each other, then the floor…
"Oh for Fucks sake!"
"Right, that's it!!! I can't take it!"
Both boys exploded into movement, yelling at the same time as Harry grabbed
Malfoy to haul him into his lap at precisely the same time Draco dove into
Harry's arms and wrapped his arms and legs about him, their lips crashing
together with a mutual moan of relieved ecstasy.
"Oh gods yes… Malfoy." The words were blurred with need and lips
connecting repeatedly made speech somewhat difficult. But, Draco decided,
smiling into the kiss, when someone was speaking into your mouth you tended to
get the gist of it.
"Its `Draco' Potter, if you're going to fuck me it'd better be Draco."
Harry paused in his absorbing task of unbuttoning Draco's shirt with one hand
and pushing off his casual robes with the other, tongue halting on its downwards
sweep towards his collarbone. He leant back slightly, raising an eyebrow at the
smug Slytherin, cheeks flushed with heady arousal and triumph.
"`If' I'm going to fuck you?" He purred, shifting his hips slightly to
let Draco feel exactly what plans his body had for Draco's, smiling wolfishly as
a soft moan escaped the blond. "Oh you'd better be going to fuck me
Potter…"
"Harry." Harry corrected, going back to licking at Draco's throat as
he pushed the now open shirt and robes off of Draco's shoulders. "Mmm,
Harry then," Draco moaned, closing his eyes as small white teeth closed
about his nipple and his mind filled in the blanks with their onscreen shots
from earlier, "Like I said, ah, Harry, you'd better be going to fuck me or,
or…"
"Or?" Harry now murmured into the skin behind Draco's left ear,
"Tell me what you'd do to me… or better yet Draco, tell me what you want
me to do to you instead."
"Fuck me." It wasn't even a whisper, more an exhalation, soft words
carried on breath to Harry's ears, the effect on him instantaneous as he ground
upwards into Draco who whimpered appreciatively.
"What was that, baby?" The Gryffindor trailed his tongue around
Draco's lips, enjoying the way his eyelids flickered as if his eyes were rolling
in his head at the simplest of Harry's caresses. "Fuck me." It was
firmer this time and Draco forced his eyes open with some difficulty to press
his lips hard against Harry's. "Fuck me now Harry, do me hard, right
here."
Harry shuddered and the action carried through to Draco's, both boys convulsing
slightly against each other as they realised there was no reason for them to
stop, no audience and no alcohol to blame afterwards. "You sure?"
Harry croaked, his seductive tone lost in want as his eyes greedily scanned up
and down the alabaster abdomen before him, a slight sheen of sweat forming as
Draco's body heat picked up in relation to his mood. Draco nodded, an oddly shy
smile on his otherwise determined face.
"I want you inside me Harry." He tore at Harry's shirt as he spoke,
movements frantic suddenly, "Deep," he murmured into Harry's newly
exposed collar bone as Harry's shirt parted for him, "Hard" Both his
robes and shirt flew off over the back of the sofa leaving the two boys chest to
naked chest, straining against each other in more ways than one.
"Now."
With a muffled groan, Harry fisted a hand into Draco's hair, drawing it back in
amusement as it came away slick. Draco grinned "Magic gel," he
murmured blushing as Harry trailed it down his chest to stroke into the soft
line of silver blond hair extending downwards from his belly button. "Wet
look, it uhh…mmmm… never dries out, unless specified…Mmm." Harry was
now circling Malfoy's bellybutton with his gelled fingers, dipping them in and
out at odd intervals, leaving Draco hot and gasping in his lap, so turned on it
was verging on painful.
"Harry." He pleaded, head thrashing as Harry inserted a finger deep
into the sensitive dent in his flesh. "Please." Harry chuckled softly,
arousal darkening his skin and eyes. "Sorry baby, let me get that for
you." Draco sighed in relief before yelping in surprise as Harry thrust him
from his lap backwards into the sofa again, covering his body for a second,
mouth plundering and hot before moving swiftly downwards. Images of the
recording shot across Draco's mind two seconds before he felt the tip of Harry's
tongue dip into his navel.
Draco cried out, actually screaming, every nerve cell in his body super charging
into a white-hot mass behind his belly button, pleasure so intense it crossed
into pain blaring through him. "Wow," Harry whispered, kissing the
skin around it without repeating his actions, "you really `are' that
sensitive. Guess we'll save that erogenous zone for a day when we're both not
so… needing."
Draco leant back against the leather, stomach churning almost nauseously, sweat
dripping from him lost in wonderment at his response. Had it not been so close
to actual agony to feel such pleasure he might have begged Harry to continue but
for now… he jerked suddenly as air touched his skin, Harry's clever fingers
having undone his trousers. "Harry," he mumbled, tongue thick with
desire, slurring before he arched, the small sweat droplets running to rivers
across his flesh as Harry swallowed him whole.
Harry's head moved rapidly up and down his cock and Draco gulped and gasped,
thrashing, raking hands and nails across his abdomen, fisting hands in Harry's
hair as pleasure boiled and burned in the pit of his stomach. Harry released him
and sat forward, capturing Draco's moth, flavouring the hot, deep kiss with
pre-come and Draco groaned loudly into Harry's mouth, lapping and sucking at his
lips and tongue, feeling Harry's clever hands peeling his trousers down his
hips, pushing them off with his legs. "Feel good baby?" Harry
whispered against his lips and Draco was on the verge of sobbing his answer.
"Yes, oh gods, yes Harry. So good." He whimpered, hearing the words
echoing in his head.
What had happened to the self-assured, kick ass, evil and `quiet' Slytherin he'd
been earlier that day? Had Harry smothered him with kisses? Would he be back or
had this ferocious passion scared him off for good. Draco didn't know and as
Harry's lips moved round to whisper hot promises into his ear, he didn't think
he could ever care again. `Potter and Malfoy are dead' he whispered inside
himself `Long Live Harry and Draco.'
Harry was lost. Somewhere between kissing Draco and not kissing Draco he'd
discovered that the person he'd been before had fled. Priorities had shifted,
the sun, moon, earth and fates all now revolved around Draco or more importantly
making Draco make those quick, gasping noises when he thrust against him, like
little sparks beneath his skin had burned him. Harry knew a brief moment of
satisfaction, possibly his first, that he had been the one to slay the Dark Lord
Voldemort the year before. He had died by Harry's hand and could never lay his
hands on what was his, couldn't mark Draco's perfect skin, couldn't tear him
from Harry's arms. "Mine." He growled possessively into the curve of
Draco's shoulder, biting down there, marking him as his own, thrilling to the
sounds of Draco's pleasure as he felt these soft bites.
"Now, please, now… Harry." Draco sobbed, all pretence of nonchalance
obliterated by Harry's touch, the odd caress upon his shaft, the unbearable
friction of Harry's cloth covered cock against his own.
"You're really, really sure?" Harry hissed, hand on his zipper in
readiness as Draco cried out, nodding frantically and thrusting hard against
him. "What if someone comes in?" Harry whispered unzipping and
grimacing with a mixture of discomfort and pleasure as he erection sprang free.
"Don't care…" Draco mumbled, mouth full of Harry's tongue, Harry's
taste, " Just... just fuck me… please. Now."
Harry began lowering himself onto Draco as realisation hit the blond and he
pushed at Harry's chest, squirming. "No," he mumbled, pulling himself
upright. "Not like this."
Harry drew back, hands held up away from Draco, blinking, clearly horrified.
"Draco, baby I'm sorry I thought you said yes, I must have... I'm sorry,
I'm sorry."
Draco smiled, all but purring as he took in Harry's halfway shed trousers and
thick cock standing free. "Oh but I did say yes," he murmured,
reaching forwards to ghost his fingers down the length of Harry's swollen shaft,
reveling in the hiss of air sucked in between Harry's teeth in pleasure.
"Draco," he moaned, cut off as Draco's lips covered his, tongue
plunging into every crevice and corner of Harry's mouth.
"I `did' say yes Harry," he whispered against Harry's lips, trying and
failing to keep his questing fingers from Harry's rosy cock, "But I never
said you could fuck me on my back like a girl… I may be your bitch; I may even
beg you for it again and again… In fact I'm pretty sure I already have... But
I do `not' want my first time with you to be on my back like a fucking
woman."
Harry smiled in relief, tongue battling briefly with his newfound lovers.
"Got it baby. Not a girl… I'd never have guessed." Draco smacked him
upside the head before reaching down to push Harry's trousers the rest of the
way off his legs, leaving them both gloriously, heatedly, utterly buck naked.
"So," Draco hummed against Harry's tongue "Now what? You seem to
be the man with the plan here… what next hot stuff?"
Harry smiled, a slow, sexy spread of his mouth, each corner tilting to reveal
perfect teeth as his eyes sparkled. "You want to bottom but you don't want
to `be' the bottom?" Draco nodded, suddenly shy as he realised Harry was
slightly more familiar with the terms and most likely more experienced. He was
suddenly very jealous and he ground his mouth into the brunet's, trying to force
all traces of any others, male or female from his skin. "Fuck me Harry,
make me yours and you'll be mine and no-one else's ever, not ever again."
Harry moaned and nodded his assent, missing the blush that added to the aroused
colour in Draco's cheeks, not realising he'd spoken aloud till then.
Harry pushed Draco from him slowly, smiling again. "Got a plan." He
told him softly, "But first…" He ran his hands through Draco's hair,
bringing them away liberally soaked in gel and for a moment Draco was lost…
until he felt cool blunt fingertips probing at his entrance. "Oh, oh
god," he gasped as two slick digits slipped inside; he placed his hands on
Harry's shoulders to steady himself. "You ok baby?" Harry spoke
softly, seriously and Draco knew with an odd sense of pride that if he said No,
Harry would stop in an instant.
But he was all right; he was better than all right. He purred, rubbing his head
against Harry's throat, enjoying the rumble of laughter in Harry's chest.
"More," he moaned, pressing back against the hand probing him
delicately, wet fingers slipping in and out, slowly stretching.
He glanced down and watched as Harry worked the other gel-slick hand up and down
his shaft, leaving it glistening with moisture and Draco reached forward
murmuring appreciatively, only to have his hands slapped away.
"Uh, uh!" Harry chided with a strained smile at Draco's pout, "I
can barely touch myself watching you like this… if `you' touch me…" he
shuddered and Draco licked his lips as Harry's cock twitched at the mere
thought. He whimpered softly then, as Harry's fingers slipped from his ass and
moved to grasp Draco firmly by the hips. "Turn around, " Harry ordered
huskily adding a throaty; "You'll like this, I promise." at Draco's
small frown.
Draco had seen people taken from behind before, all bent over like a dog and he
really, really didn't want to be all squashed downwards where he couldn't see or
touch Harry but if he wanted that thick cock inside him… He shivered violently
and Harry kissed his neck from behind. "You ok?"
Draco nodded, nearly weeping with need. "Harry, please, please now.
Now."
He felt Harry bending him over slightly and knew a slight pang of regret,
quickly dispelled as felt something warm and wet and hard nudging against him.
"Ready?" Draco sobbed, his answer already lost in a black hazy cloud
of lust and screamed as Harry thrust in, in one clean motion, smooth and
painless and better than Draco could have ever dreamed.
Draco gasped, certain he'd never breathe again, move or do anything that might
ever dispel this sensation, whimpering as he felt Harry shifting, moving Draco
forcibly with his hands. "C'mon baby, this is the part where you get to
ride me."
Draco shuddered at Harry's words and then again as the realisation of their
meaning. He `was' going to be on top, he just didn't know how. Harry
straightened Draco up until they stood with Draco's buttocks pressed firmly into
Harry's thighs, chest to back, Draco's head lolling helplessly against Harry's
shoulder. "Good to go baby?" Harry laughed softly into his lover's
ear, happier than he'd ever been simply from being inside this perfect creature,
shuddering as Draco clenched inwardly as the boy straightened up and nodded.
Harry carefully leant back, supporting himself on his knees and legs folded
beneath him, Draco's legs separating around him so that the Slytherin sat
straddling him backwards, leaving ample room for thrusting with the added bonus
of being able to feel Draco's body now pressed against him. Draco moaned softly
as he looked down his body to where his own proud erection stood, mourning the
fact he couldn't see Harry entering his body.
At that moment Harry pulled back and pushed in again, murmuring hotly into
Draco's ear about exactly how good it felt to be so deep inside him. Draco
turned his head and found to his great delight as he moaned loudly at Harry's
actions, that he could in fact look directly into Harry's face and kiss him just
as deeply as if they'd been laying face to face.
He kissed Harry hard, pouring all his pleasure and sound into the kiss, his
screams muffled as Harry angled his hips to strike that certain spot deep within
the Slytherin. Draco tore his moth from Harry's as the shaking subsided,
"What the fuck was that?" he rasped, breath hitching in his chest.
Harry's face shone with sweat and exertion, the need to simply pound himself
into Draco squeezing like a vice in his chest. "That, Draco, is your
prostate. Here it is again." He grinned fiendishly and rammed himself hard
against it,
eliciting a shriek from Draco. It wasn't long before every stroke hit that sweet
spot and Draco had given up screaming for the most part, choosing instead to
arch and moan and plead and promise, biting Harry anywhere he could lay his
teeth.
"Oh gods fuck, yes, Harry, oh gods yes, yes, you're so fucking big, do it
to me harder, like that, yes, oh... oh, yeah, uh huh, oh, oh Mmm, yeah deeper,
harder, gods YES fuck... yessssssss"
And Harry, watching the sweat rolling in vast droplets down Draco's now
unmistakably undulating form, could only hiss back during intervals where he
didn't suck Draco's tongue, skin, earlobes, shoulders pausing to bite his neck,
leaving marks, filling him with an odd sense of ownership, the rights to the
sweating rolling body atop him, around him.
"Mmm you're so tight, Draco my god, so hot, so good… gods
yessssssss"
He began pumping his still slick palm up and down Draco's straining cock, loving
the whimpers of pain and pleasure mixed from the depth of Draco's arousal, the
air now soaked with sweat and sex and screams. Draco could feel a burning
building low in his stomach, unmistakably good, the best thing he'd ever known
and he hadn't even felt it yet. Harry's thrusts were becoming more ragged now,
more desperate and Draco knew he was just as close to the brink as he, possibly
closer.
He turned his head into Harry's throat, needing to look away from the strong
hands that rocked up and down his shaft, and, feeling a nudge at his temple from
Harry's jaw, he lifted his head into an intense, possessive kiss.
Harry tightened his arms about the angel in them, hand still moving slickly as
he felt the warning tremors come upon them both. `Mine', he thought and knew
again fiercely, `Mine.' Draco felt more complete than he had ever been in his
life; Harry's arms wrapped around him in every sense, cock deep in his ass,
tongue lapping at his own. He felt owned, more than that... `Needed', as if
Harry thought that to let him go might make his heart stop, Draco knew his would
if he did. The tremors racking them built to larger quakes within them and Draco
could feel the explosion nearly upon him.
"Love me Harry," he whimpered imploringly, breaking his lips from
Harry's, "please. Love me."
"Gladly." Harry sobbed back, recapturing Draco's mouth for a
mili-second, tears streaking their cheeks as they stiffened, lips torn apart
both screaming their pleasure into the still Sunday air around them as Draco
pumped his seed across his lovers palm, Harry's splashing hot and deep within
Draco.
And the image froze and shimmered.
"See," Blaise drawled to his best friend, sprawled across the sofa.
"Aren't you happy now that I left the Sneekee-peek set on you two?"
Draco rolled his eyes, refusing to blush as Harry was now, regarding their mid
orgasmic poses onscreen. "Alright, alright I forgive you but next time you
think you want to play match maker do what everyone else does and pass a bloody
note in class, alright? Now fuck off."
Blaise lifted an eyebrow in mock offence, "I thought you just forgave
me?"
Draco smiled, winking at his mate before rising to go perch in his smiling but
distinctly pink boyfriends lap. " I do, we do. It's a great anniversary
present Zabini, really, tell Granger and Weasley we said so… just… Y'know...
run along would you? I have a few things I'd like to discuss with my
boyfriend."
Zabini rolled his eyes, chuckled and strode from the room. Harry sighed, drawing
his lover further into his lap. "At last," he purred, "I thought
he'd never leave!" He looked back to the picture, marveling at the
overwhelming heat of the moment, even paused. "Not that its not a great
gift... it just makes me want you all to myself."
Draco waggled his eyebrows, dipping his head to briefly capture and suck the tip
of Harry's tongue, "Baby, you've got me." He murmured, reaching into
his boyfriend's trousers as the world started to shimmer and go dark with need
for them both once more.
Halfway to the Great Hall, Blaise Zabini smirked. He was a good friend, he
decided, but a better Slytherin. His smirk spread into a full-blown smile. He
was glad he left the Sneekee Peek running.
END.