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Quietly, Draco Malfoy peeked out from behind the doorway of one of the Slytherin Quidditch towers, pale fingers curled about the rough wood. If anyone caught him this year, he couldn't exactly swear that he was spying on Hufflepuff Quidditch techniques, after all. Not since Quidditch had been canceled for that stupid Tri-Wizard tournament. That had more than aggravated him, but mostly because it meant he didn't have the opportunity to at least *see* his crush on a regular basis. He wasn't even close to the other boy in age with a good three years between them, nearly four, and so he only got to see him at meals and similar events. How Draco *wished* that Cedric Diggory would notice him! But the older boy seemed to be a Hufflepuff to the core. He was oblivious of Draco, and didn't notice that the Slytherin boy was peeking from behind a tower to watch him dart back and forth over the Quidditch pitch. He was still one with his practice routines, even if there *wasn't* Quidditch that year. The mere *sight* of him made the younger boy harden, and Draco gave a little moan at the delight of seeing such a lovely sight. Ohh, he wished and wished... Well, it was pointless, wasn't it? At least he could be grateful that his crush was on pureblooded Diggory and not some horrid Weasley or someone like Potter! It was a crush that his father would approve of, even if Diggory was a Hufflepuff. Slytherins occasionally needed steadfast, loyal supporters, after all. But it didn't matter, because Lucius would never know, and Cedric would never know. All Cedric seemed to know was his broom, and the wind whipping around him as he flew. Round and round in the air, finally touching down near the Slytherin viewing tower Draco lurked behind. "Come on out, whoever you are." Oh. BAD sign. The only thing worse than being caught was being sent to Azkaban, regardless of what one had gotten caught *doing*. Still, there wasn't a lot Draco could do about it, so he trudged a bit dispiritedly from the door, his Nimbus clasped tightly in his palm. "I was just *watching*," he excused, a pout crossing his carnation-colored mouth. "Why?" Diggory asked Draco that, before he finished taking in the green on Draco's robes. But when he did, the next thing he said was predictable. "Trying to hex me out of the sky?" "Your name's not *Potter*, is it?" Draco demanded petulantly. One would THINK Diggory could at LEAST be nice to one. After all, he'd made all of those stupid little pins and... Well. He'd been obvious. "No." "Malfoy." Cedric seemed to alight on Draco's name after a mental pause, and he nodded. "So what are you doing out there?" "I told you." The sullen little moue of Draco's mouth became more pronounced. "I was just watching. You aren't going to be here for Quidditch next year, so it won't matter." Ah, and his crush would be gone from Hogwarts, completely finished with his schooling. What a horrible thought. "But you'll be here, Malfoy." Diggory paced nearer to Draco, finally leaning on the shaft of his broom. "Do you ever practice?" "I have my own private Quidditch instructor," Draco answered airily, and it was true. His father had insisted, and had replaced the first when Potter had so handily beat him to the snitch during second and third years. Well, Lucius had *said* the man had been replaced, and in a way, Draco supposed he had been. The roses in the back garden had never looked so good. Diggory was looking at him with a scowl now, a 'it figures' look in his handsome eyes. "But during the school year? You'll go to mush if you don't practice." "I suppose that's not an offer to practice with *you*, is it?" Draco *did* practice, of course; what else would he be doing at the pitch with his broom? There was no point in discussing it with Cedric, however. "I just finished, but..." Cedric looked back to the pitch for a moment, then back to Draco. He looked deeply thoughtful, an expression that stirred Draco's emotions even more. "We could. You look like you could use more practice, Seeker or not." The way that made Draco's brows jerk together was rather attractive in a way. "I... That would be all right," he decided, looking at Cedric with no small hint of sheer adoration in his gaze. "Get on your broom -- I want to watch." Not in the way Draco watched, of course -- Diggory would be staring at him for form, and general flying skills before joining him in the air. Not staring at his ass as Draco half-hoped he would. Draco was pretty sure that he could *make* Diggory look at his ass, at least a bit. After all, Marcus Flint had looked a lot, so surely it wasn't so hard? Still, he straddled the broom, the necessity of telling it to come up no longer even there. The broom *knew* him, and knew what he wanted, and he settled there with his ankles crossed for a moment to look at Cedric. "All right." "Show off." But Diggory smiled when he said it; there was no venom there, as the older boy sprang onto his broom, hovering five, six feet above Draco. "Go on, now -- fly!" That was easy enough to do; Draco *loved* flying, had done since the first time he'd been allowed on a broom. He took off like a shot, his Nimbus giving him a bit of an advantage on Cedric despite the fact that the other boy was higher in the air than he was. It was pure delight, in fact, to be flying with him. Draco almost cheered. But he didn't, and it was probably for the best -- Diggory was quickly catching up with him, and might've mistaken a cheer for a scream. The Nimbus's bristles were skimmed by out-reaching fingers for a moment, and then Diggory pulled his broom up a little to gain more advantage. Draco brought himself more tightly against his own broom and shot ahead by several inches, but it was the largest degree of separation that could be managed between the two of them. It remained that way for a full two laps of the pitch perimeter before Diggory motioned for him to slow down. "Why don't you show that much speed in the games?" Diggory was dipping his broom, flying ever so slightly down and then back up to better stay aloft as they slowed to the same speed. "Are you holding back?" The way those silvery eyes darted down, Draco's pale face flushing, certainly should have told him *something*. "No," the Slytherin replied. "Or I didn't think I was, anyway. Potter's Firebolt is faster than your broom or mine, either one, to boot..." "Faster than yours? But your father bought your team the newest brooms..." Diggory, Draco realized, was flying a lazy loop around him. "Yes, but Potter's got replaced last year, you'll recall," Draco reminded him, laying himself lazily along the handle of his broom, feet propping themselves momentarily on the stirrups. "It's incredible, really. Father refuses to buy me one of those, either." Not until he beat Potter, at least. "How come? Your father seems the sort who would buy you that, or better..." Draco could laze on his broom, but Diggory had exceptional control of his older broom. Despite its comparative age, it held up well against Draco's Nimbus. "He says I have to beat Potter first, and until then, it's not worth it to buy me another," Draco admitted. "Yours is incredible. You almost managed to catch up with me." "Treat a broom well, and it'll serve you well. I cherish this... It's probably my favorite possession in the world." He smoothed a hand over the handle, illustrating the smooth gloss he'd polished into it. "How do you treat yours?" That caress was nearly enough to knock Draco clean off of his *own* broomstick. "Well, it's a broom," he said slowly. "But it *is* by far one of my favorite things..." "You just let it sit in your closet, don't you?" the hufflepuff scowled at him. Even his scowl was a handsome, alluring expression that made Draco's heart catch in his chest. "No wonder you can't get top performance from it." "So what do *you* do with *yours* that's so special?" Draco asked, scowling at him. "Treat it like a friend." Cedric winked then, and flew a tight circle around Draco, before dipping downwards. "I'm tired now -- maybe you'd like to pick this up again another day, Malfoy?" "Do we have to go in, yet?" It was the answer of a spoiled brat, and the blond seemed to know it, for he sighed. "Another day would be nice." Or perhaps even another night. Or perhaps even a kiss, a fondle... His skin colored deeply again. Cedric gave Draco a smile that made the blood at the surface of his skin switch directions, and race for his groin. "Day after tomorrow work for you? I can show you how you *should* treat a broom." "Yes," Draco agreed, voice gone a bit hoarse. "The day after tomorrow will work just fine." There was something almost Slytherin in the tilt -- almost malicious -- of Cedric's smile. Or perhaps it was how Draco read the expression. Diggory touched down on the pitch, and pulled his broom up close to him as he looked at Draco. "I'll see you then -- same time." "Same time," Draco agreed as he landed, clutching his broom to him. Tomorrow wouldn't come soon enough, and in the meantime... Well, in the meantime, it would be quiet and empty down in the dungeons at this time of day. No one would hear him if he accidentally called out the name of a Hufflepuff. ~~~~~ Diggory wasn't up in the air when Draco neared the pitch. It was empty of other people, but that wasn't a soothing thought when he wanted to meet Cedric there. If he'd already come, and left, Draco decided he'd hate himself forever. It wasn't *his* fault that he was late. Crabbe and Goyle hadn't wanted to let him go and then Professor Snape had stopped him and wanted to discuss his Potions grade on the latest paper, and it had made him nearly half an hour late. He'd counted on Diggory's Hufflepuff nature to keep the other boy from leaving without at least SEEING him, but... Well. "Malfoy. I was thinking you weren't going to show." There almost seemed to be a hint of pleasure at the idea that Draco was there -- was Diggory happy to be tutoring him in the art of broom treatment? "I was delayed," Draco replied, delighted that the other boy had stayed. "Professor Snape wanted to have a word with me." "Hmn. What's he like as a Head of House? In Hufflepuff, Sprout jokes that Snape just whips you Slytherins to drive you forwards every day." Diggory had a jaunty walk, as he moved around the observation tower from behind Draco, to stand in front of him. The flush that filled Draco's cheeks was as much from excitement about their brooms as it was from Diggory's words. "Well, only if we're trouble," he excused. "But surely Sprout does the same?" "We don't get in trouble very often," Cedric murmured thoughtfully, gesturing for Draco to follow him. "And when we do, she piles on the guilt thick enough to have that serve as punishment." "I suppose that *would* work, with a Hufflepuff," Draco agreed as he moved quickly after the older boy. It wasn't said with any particular venom, though it was obvious that he meant that such a tactic wouldn't work with a Slytherin. "Does he *really* whip you?" Cedric asked, peering over his shoulder at Draco. There was a glint of eager curiosity in his eyes, as he led the younger boy to the locker rooms. "I just *told* you he does," Draco told him, the sound of it a bit short. It was rather humiliating to admit such a thing to someone that held one's heart, wasn't it? Next, Diggory would be asking if *he'd* been punished, and he didn't know how he'd answer that.... "So I could assume he's hit you, then..." Cedric didn't ask that, but assumed it without Draco having to tell him -- it spared the blond boy a little humiliation, despite the off the cuff way that the hufflepuff noted it. "Did that work?" "Like a *charm*," Draco admitted with a little shiver as they stopped walking in a small, out of the way place. It was blocked from view and from the chilly spring wind. "I've done my best to avoid getting *that* again." Mostly because it had made him *squirm*. "Hmn." The Hufflepuff eyed him for a moment, eyes languid as they traced over Draco's body, then his broom. "How often do you polish it?" The sheer imagery that evoked made Draco shift restlessly. "Um, a couple of times a week. Usually right after practice... You know, because it seems like such a reward for it, I suppose, for working hard..." He sounded like a babbling idiot, he was sure. "You should polish it daily," Diggory admonished firmly. Not sharply, but simply firmly; he had hope for Draco learning what he was saying, then. "Show me your technique." Well, he had brought his broom servicing kit with him, so it was as well, Draco supposed. He settled down on the floor near Cedric and began to pull everything out of it, glad they were secluded away from anyone's sight. It felt almost romantic, and it made him just a bit shy and quite a lot less bratty. "All right. Like so," he said once he had things settled and began to work on polishing his stick. He wished it wasn't his broom that Cedric was so interested in seeing polished! "Slower, longer strokes..." Cedric stood up, presumably to sit nearer to Draco. But then he walked out of sight, and moments later Draco felt arms around him, larger hands settling over his own. "Like this." "Oh." He wondered if he sounded as breathless to the Hufflepuff as he did to himself when he uttered that word, fingers trembling as he stroked over the black polished wood slowly. "Like that?" "A little more pressure." Cedric's hands pressed more atop Draco's, guiding his fingers over the wood in sleek stroking motions. "Just like this. Your broom will love you for this. Every day, even when it's not the season, Draco." Oh, if he had what it took to turn around and kiss the seventh year, he'd do it. He'd do it and he wouldn't care even when Cedric hit him and pushed him away, and he was a Hufflepuff. Surely he wouldn't spread rumors about the kiss if Draco just... But Cedric was almost too close to him to pull it off properly. He leaned in, lips near Draco's ear, to say, "What else do you do for your broom?" "Polish it regularly." Yes, his voice WAS shaking. "Keep it warm and dry..." His hands were trembling, too, and he knew he must be melting back against the older boy. "That's not enough to make a broom *really* happy, Malfoy. Would you be happy with just that?" Cedric's left hand dropped from the broom to rest on the inside of Draco's thigh through his robes. "H-huh-uh," Draco managed to get out, tongue caught between his teeth momentarily. Cedric was *touching* him, so *close*! His eyes nearly crossed. "No. I wouldn't be satisfied..." "Then what would satisfy you?" That voice huffed warmly against his ear, warm and so far from puberty, unlike his own. Like warm chocolate, smooth and consistent. "Every day," Draco whispered, squirming. He wanted to get that hand a bit closer, just a bit. He'd dream about it all night, he knew he would! "Just being rubbed? What about your bristles?" The hand edged closer, so that his knuckles barely skimmed Draco's groin, fingers pressed more firmly to his thigh. "T-trimmed. And, and if, and I would want to be..." His mouth was trembling even as he turned slightly to face the Hufflepuff, offering it to him. "You would want to be...?" "Used properly," Draco managed to get out on the breath of a little sigh. "Used *well*." "Then why don't you and I use your broom properly, hmn? Come on, Malfoy, get up -- the Hufflepuff changing rooms will work best for this." Cedric's warm hand slipped up, skirting his groin, and tugged Draco up easily at the waist when he himself stood. Draco decided that if he died tomorrow, he would at least die happy. "All right. Are the Hufflepuff changing rooms nicer than the Slytherin ones? I'll bet the Gryffindor ones are," he grumbled. It was more of a grumble about having Cedric stop touching him *there* than about the rooms, truth be told. "They're not nicer... just different." Cedric paused to gather up Draco's care-kit with his wand, still holding the Slytherin around the waist. "It's warmer there. More conducive to... proper broom care." "Oh," Draco said. "*Oh*." Oh, indeed. He hoped that it wasn't the broom he flew on that would get care, but a boy had to have SOME perverted little thoughts and wishes, didn't he? At the worst, Cedric would keep touching him as he was; at the best, he'd get his every little hope fulfilled. As it was, he was going to be half-carried, half dragged into the Hufflepuff changing rooms, back pressed against Cedric's warm front. "You like that idea?" How could anyone *not* like that idea was what Draco wanted to know. "Yes," he admitted, pressing himself against the Hufflepuff's side. "Oh, yes. Learning broom-care from you is *ever* so exciting." He sounded like a ridiculous first year and he didn't *care*. He could fawn to his heart's content, at his heart's content... The Hufflepuff changing rooms and showers were warm and warm-colored. Yellows splashed the lockers, the benches that went along the rows under the lockers, and parts of the wall. "Let's sit over here," Cedric instructed, leading Draco over towards the benches. He let go of him there. "Lay your broom over your lap." That gave the Slytherin boy the shivers for a moment, their conversation about Professor Snape coming to mind once again thanks to the sound of those words. It wasn't quite the same, of course, laying one's *broom* over one's lap and laying *oneself* over someone else's, but still. It also excited him no small amount, his hands shaking. "Like this?" Lengthwise over his lap. Cedric sat down across from him, leaning forwards. "Yes. Now, pull up your robes." Oh, Merlin. He *must* be dreaming, Draco decided, but dream or not, he obediently tugged them upwards, revealing his pale legs. No Muggle-ish clothes underneath *his* robes, heaven knew. "Mmm. There's a great deal of mythology that says that brooms enjoy the feel of skin against them. They're well polished, so you won't get any splinters..." Cedric stood, and then knelt down in front of Draco, hands settling atop the blond's broom and thighs. "No matter *where* it touches you." "Anywhere?" Draco asked him faintly, mouth parted, eyes gleaming almost blue in the faint light of the room. There was no doubt about his lust, obvious through the silken weight of his robes. "Anywhere." Cedric's hands moved to Draco's, placing them on the broom. "Now, stroke it and tell him how it feels." The way Draco's trembling fingers traced the contours of the Nimbus couldn't take his mind off of Cedric's nearness, despite the sheer sensualism of the broom beneath his fingers. "It feels... Hard," he said. "Smooth. Powerful. Erotic..." "Why do you think it's erotic? Tell it that." Cedric's fingers lingered over Draco's hands for a moment, then dropped to rest atop his thighs, tickling there idly. "Because it's so powerful," Draco answered breathlessly. "There's something erotic about power. About knowledge." About Cedric... "And if you were so powerful, Draco, what would you like to do?" The older boy shifted nearer kneeling between Draco's legs. It brought him closer, made it easier for the Slytherin's robes to be pushed up further. "Fuck.." It was more by way of a whimper than an answer as his legs tightened, Cedric's hands on his skin making the world blur into a realm of nothing more or less than pure lust. "Oh..." "Spread your legs." Cedric's hands stroked up further beneath the broom to dance along the inside of Draco's soft thighs. The other boy could feel warm breath on his knees as Cedric leaned nearer. Knees parted willingly, obeying Cedric's words the way the Red Sea had obeyed Moses, Draco's hands tightening slightly on his broom. "Oh..." It was the only word he seemed to be able to think, much less *say*. "Do you love your broom, Malfoy? Do you cherish it...?" A fingertip pressed to Draco's scrotum, dragged upwards along the underside of his cock. "Uh-huh..." His eyes were crossing, and he knew he sounded like a complete idiot, but *GOD* above, he could have come just with that *touch*! "Yes. Yes, oh, please..." "Have you ever... treated it properly before?" Lips grazed his knee, tickling at the fine, short hairs that grew there. The finger on his cock slipped down again, back under Draco to tease behind his balls, while Diggory rested his head on Draco's leg. "No..." Draco didn't know what *properly* meant, but he was *sure* it was nothing his father had ever suggested as being suitable in the *least*. "How..." He paused, swallowed hard, gave a little moan. "Oh, *how* d'you..." "You'll let me show you, won't you?" The finger slipped back, pressing into the faint crevice between Draco's cheeks. "You want it, do you?" "Please, yes!" Draco admitted from between trembling lips, his hips sliding forward and nearly tilting him right off of the bench upon which he sat. "Yes, I want it..." "Put your broom on the bench," Cedric instructed softly, smiling up at Draco, "And then kiss me." His finger didn't move away. He teased at the tight little ring between Draco's cheeks with the tip of his finger. It made the slim blond groan, his hands coming up to clutch at the older boy's shoulders. For a moment, his broom remained in his lap, but as his lips met the Hufflepuff's, he managed to move it away from him, squirming faintly for more. Cedric's mouth tasted like toffee candies, and quickly overwhelmed him with flavor and with motion. One hand held Draco at the hip, but the other, and that one finger, continued to tease at him. "You're like a fairy, Malfoy," Cedric sighed against his mouth. "A beautiful fairy..." The Slytherin would have laughed if he hadn't been panting with pleasure. Oh, it felt so good, it was everything he'd *dreamed* about, wasn't it? Yes, Cedric's hands and mouth on him, and his own fingers tightening momentarily on the older boy's shoulders as he moaned. "Please..." "What would please you?" That was rumbled against his mouth, that candy smooth voice making it twice as arousing a suggestion. And the teasing finger, tempting Draco already, slipped into him to the first knuckle. "Please, I want fucking!" Draco managed to stutter out, gasping as he tried to grind himself forward and get more of that finger in him. It hurt, felt good, made him want to yell something awful. WHY had he never considered that Hufflepuffs might all be sex-addicts who were incredible lays!? Oh. Right. Because they were Hufflepuffs. And who would've expected something like that from a Hufflepuff? Ploddingly loyal and staid weren't things Draco associated with the overwhelming feeling of needing to be sucked, fucked and used. "Have you ever had it?" Cedric asked, starting to trail his kisses away from Draco's mouth. Firm lips slid, knowingly, over the edge of Draco's jaw, to his neck, intent on going further. "I'm a *Slytherin*," Draco panted, eyes dropping closed. It wasn't a yes or no answer, but that was also very Slytherin of him. If he said yes, Cedric might stop. If he said no, Cedric might stop. Draco would rather die than have *that* happen. "I think your broom will appreciate that." How could a Hufflepuff sound so pleased with himself, so smirking? He pressed his finger in further, waiting for Draco to gasp with pleasure or protest. It didn't take long to get what he wanted combined with a low groan of absolute bliss. "Oh, fuck," Draco whimpered. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, please, yes, fuck...!" "This is the Malfoy that no one expects," Cedric breathed, pressing Draco to lean back with kisses to his collarbone through his robes, heading for a nipple. "Beautiful. I'm glad I expected it." With no small amount of care, Draco squirmed until he managed to get his back against the bench upon which he rested, tugging Cedric with him. "I want..." he whispered, shivering at those words. "I want *you*..." "Broom first," Cedric told him wickedly, glancing up from his chest a moment to meet want-filled grey eyes, "then me." Draco nodded dumbly, not caring exactly what that might mean. He wanted so *badly*, lusted for the Hufflepuff, had been violently jealous of Potter and that Chang bitch... "Do you know the spell to turn wood to flesh?" Cedric kissed the other nipple, and started to lean back to grab Draco's broom. The blond gasped, as much from the feel of lips and teeth teasing at him as from the words. "There's a spell that does that?" he asked blankly. Suddenly, he began to wonder about how much Potter loved that Firebolt. "Of course there is. I'll teach you it... if you think you can pay attention." Another wicked glint in the older boy's eyes, as he leaned back on the bench, crouching between Draco's legs. "Maybe." It was the best Draco could promise, as his rising lust was nearly too much for him to handle. "Maybe..." But not while Cedric was steadily stripping off the rest of his clothing. His brain would never manage to remember it, then! Hands -- callused from gripping his broom, Draco guessed -- stroked up his chest, and then over his shoulders, pushing Draco's robes off of him. "You're too handsome to be dressed..." Draco was delighted that the older boy understood that he was beautiful. "Please..." It wasn't a word he was supposed to use -- after all, he was a Malfoy! He couldn't help himself, though, as he reached for Cedric and tugged lightly at the robes still covering him. "At my own speed," Cedric murmured un-chidingly, as he pulled the rest of Draco's robes off so that they laid beneath the blond boy, shielding him from the stone bench's cold surface. There was no denying Draco's impatience as he squirmed up against the Hufflepuff. "That feels..." Mmm, Cedric's hand was caressing over his belly now, and it felt AWFULLY good. "I'm going to teach you the spell now. Pay attention." Cedric pulled the broom forwards with the hand that wasn't on Draco's stomach, and touched the handle of the broom against Draco's belly. "Ready?" "Ready!" It was thin agreement at best, because Draco didn't think he WAS ready. What on earth would Cedric be doing to him? It gave him excited shivers *thinking* about it, much less *doing* it. It started like a simple transfiguration spell, and ended with a twist that Draco would've expected only in charms class. Suddenly the handle felt much more like warm skin laying atop him, even though it still *looked* like a broom. "There." He couldn't help the wide-eyed look he gave to Cedric, mouth parted prettily in a gasp. "It feels like..." Oh, it felt *good*! "Skin?" Cedric rubbed it against Draco's stomach, trailing it back over his thigh, while his hand shifted to wrap around Draco's cock. "Your broom will serve you better than ever... soon." The sound that Draco gave in response to that pressure was pure pleasure, his head dropping back and lolling upon the bench. "Please... Oh, fuck, please..." He was so hot! His cock was tugged on, molded upwards with care. "Would you rather kneel on the bench, or the floor?" "Bench..." The bench, after all, at least had the benefit of having his robes over it to soften some of the stress to his bony patella. He'd just as soon not scrape his knees on cold wet floors if it was all the same to Cedric. "Good. You'll enjoy this, Draco... And I will, too." The hand slipped off of his cock, moving to his hip to goad him to his knees. With no small amount of squirming, Draco managed to turn himself so that he was face down, knees tucked up beneath his stomach. He could *feel* Cedric tracing the broom over his skin, and he couldn't help the sounds that escaped him with the enjoyment he felt. "Unnnh..." "You know what I'm going to do, don't you?" Lips touched between his shoulders, as Cedric kissed his back, teasing the broom's handle further and further back. The way that Draco nearly sobbed at those words was exquisite for Cedric. "Fuck me with my broom," the younger boy whimpered, shaking at the mere thought. "And you'll love it," Cedric assured him, settling back on his knees again. It gave him a easy view of Draco, unimpeded, and make the task of spreading his ass open easier. "Pay attention to the lubrication spell." "Please..." Whether that meant please hurry or please don't or please I can't think, who could tell? He missed the words themselves, but Draco could suddenly feel that he was *open* and wet. His muscles felt looser, but not too loose, and almost right away, the tip of the broom's handle nudged between his cheeks. "Stay still, now." "Oh..." That was a shocked little sound, and Draco drew in a shuddering breath. 'Oh' was the only way to describe it, his entire body trembling madly in reaction as one shaking hand pressed against his face. He was going to be fucked *by his own broom*. What a thought! The skin-smooth tip pressed, and guided by Cedric's hand, started to push into him. The Hufflepuff's other hand didn't wrap around to stroke his cock; it settled on the small of his back, soothing there. The little sounds that Draco gave now were more of discomfort, and so Cedric's touch was greatly appreciated. He whined and turned his head to the side, back stiffening even as his legs tightened. "Mmmn..." "Tell me what you think of it," Cedric demanded, a faint pant in his voice, as he inched perhaps an inch of the broom's wide head into Draco. Loosening spell or no... "Aches..." Oh, it ached, it HURT, it burned, but he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to disappoint Cedric, and the hands that came up searching to touch the other boy's wrists pleaded with him not to stop. "Please..." "I've never seen a broom fit so well in such a small ass..." Diggory pushed it again, rougher now; the flesh seemed to move naturally and give once it was inside of him. Draco yelled, eyes closing tightly as his fingers bruised on Cedric's wrists. "Fuck!" he managed to stutter out, tensing. "Fuck, fuck!" Oh, it had hit something so RIGHT Inside of him, and it was *good*. "Is that a demand, or a curse?" He stilled a little, the broom held still by the hands near his. "Yes!" Yes, yes and yes, it was the only answer Draco could give. Yes. It was both. "Let go of my wrists... rest your chin on your arms, and lift your bottom a little more." Cedric sounded so pleased, so delighted as he pushed a little more -- no more than a fraction -- into Draco, moving it side to side. It gained him a violent groan even as Draco obeyed, burying his face against the arms that he pulled up from between his legs. It felt good, or perhaps it didn't, and perhaps he didn't care. "Please!" Again. "How much do you think you can take?" A lascivious question, as Diggory started to ease more into him, little bit by little bit. "Nnnn..." Not much more, not much more, and oh, Merlin, his eyes were crossing and he couldn't help but yell out loudly. "No more! No more!" Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, and he was chanting it without even realizing it. Cedric let go of it. Slowly. He backed away from the broom, lifted his hand from it and from Draco, and stepped back for a minute to admire the broom that held itself aloft and still. "Beautiful." Beautiful, perhaps, but also vaguely uncomfortable, and it nearly *vibrated* in him, making Draco moan fitfully. He wished that Cedric would do something, do *anything*, just have him. Anything! Then the uncomfortable Slytherin heard a whisper. Cedric murmured something, poured out magic at the broom. It started to move, out and then back in, at a slow rhythmic pace. And once it was going at a steady, dogged pace, Cedric moved to kneel beside the bench again. "Your broom will adore you for this." Draco would much rather that *Cedric* adore him for it, but the best he could do was to cry out and writhe beneath the steady thrust of the broom handle, panting for breath. It felt so fucking *good*, if only Cedric would touch him, jerk him off, kiss him, *something*... And then he got his wish. One hand curled around his cock, while Cedric leaned towards his head to kiss him firmly on the mouth. It was enough to make him wild, his entire body bucking into the steady thrusting-fuck that made him near delirious with pleasure. It felt so good, and he needed to come *so* badly. The broom started to dip too deeply into him, and then edge too far out of him, then in deep again, then out, and in and out... it was picking up speed as Cedric milked at his cock, pulling at his mouth with his lips and swallowing sweet cries. Draco was so close, *SO* close, and that made it all the better, and all the worse. With a frantic whine, he spilled over Cedric's fingers even as his broom continued to fuck itself into him deeply. That it didn't stop made the feeling better, and worse. It didn't *stop* when he'd already come, and his cock couldn't stir up again yet. Cedric let it fuck him a moment longer, then trailed a hand down along Draco's back to grab the broom, and pull it out. He moaned gratefully and collapsed down onto the bench, a sweaty, semen-drenched wreck. For a moment, he couldn't get any words to form at all, his eyes drooping a bit. Finally, he managed to murmur, "D'you take care of your broom that way?" "At least once a week. And you saw how well it flies for me..." Cedric changed the broom back to wood, and then moved to stand beside where Draco's head was. "Care to help me with my broom?" "Oh, *yes*," Draco agreed, shifting slowly to sit up and wincing as he did. "I'd *love* to help you with your broom." And then some. |