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Draco Malfoy was up to something. Harry knew it, even though Hermione said he was just being paranoid. As far as Harry was concerned, Malfoy was always plotting some kind of nefarious scheme to humiliate him. After all, it was Malfoy.
It is breakfast in the Great Hall, and Harry is watching Malfoy from across the room. He’d been acting strange for weeks. He had disappeared during mealtimes several times, deliberately brushed against Harry in the halls, and had come to taunt him at the Gryffindor table at least five times a week. He’d even caught Malfoy smiling at him. Smiling. As if he wasn’t plotting something.
“Stop staring, Harry! He’s going to notice!” Hermione hissed at him, poking him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.
“What do I care if he notices? I’m just making sure he doesn’t try anything!”
But the moment he looks back, his eyes meet Malfoy’s across the Great Hall. Malfoy smirks, before standing to leave. As he walks through the doors to the entrance, he glances at Harry from over his shoulder, winking.
Definitely up to something.
-
It takes Harry a week to think to check the Marauder’s Map. Oddly, Malfoy’s name does not appear, and Harry immediately knows where he’s been. He rushes up the stairs to the seventh floor corridor, ignoring the calls of portraits for him to slow down, to the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy.
I want go where Draco Malfoy is. He thinks determinedly as he paces in front of the wall. He lets out a cry of triumph when a nondescript wooden door melts into the ancient brickwork. He carefully eases the door open, before sliding inside.
Inside the room was not quite what he was expecting. The room had taken the form of a cosy looking bedroom, decorated in tasteful hues of chocolate and forest green. A fire crackles merrily in the hearth. Malfoy is reclined on a plush chaise lounge, idly thumbing through a leather-bound book. His platinum hair is slightly dishevelled, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Harry feels a jolt in his stomach and his breath hitches.
Why do I feel nervous? He wonders.
Malfoy’s eyes slowly slide up from the page he is reading, and a lopsided smirk spreads across his features when he spots Harry. Harry instantly feels a heat rise in his cheeks.
“Potter. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Malfoy’s steel grey eyes roam down Harry’s body. Harry swallows the uncomfortable lump that has formed in his throat.
“I know you’re up to something.”
“Oh?” He merely replies. He smiles pleasantly, which puts Harry on edge.
Malfoy stands, cocking an eyebrow, and slowly approaches Harry. He stops when there is barely a handbreadth separating them. Harry notices that Malfoy practically towers above him.
“And what, exactly, am I up to?”
Harry hadn’t quite figured that part out yet, of course. He settles instead for staring furiously at Malfoy’s chin.
“Have you been following me, Potter?” Malfoy’s silky voice sounds amused.
Harry shakes his head furiously. Malfoy chuckles and bends down towards him. Harry’s skin breaks out in gooseflesh. He can practically hear the blood rushing past his ears.
“Liar.” Harry shivers as Malfoy’s breath hits his ear.
“You want to know my plan, Potter?” He asks, “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t caught on already.”
Malfoy places a hand under Harry’s chin, tilting his head up slightly. Whatever Harry had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t for Malfoy to press their lips together. Harry’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack, which Malfoy promptly took advantage of, slipping his tongue against Harry’s. He snakes an arm around Harry’s waist, pulling them together.
Harry whines lowly, squeezing his eyes shut, and tries to ignore the thrill jolting through his stomach. Malfoy laughs into Harry’s mouth, and runs his slender fingers down Harry’s spine, before gently cupping his arse. Harry gasps, bringing his hands to Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy’s firm chest. He pushes weakly in mock protest.
Malfoy releases his lips with a sigh, but does not move away. Instead, he places a tender kiss on Harry’s check, one on Harry’s jaw, and licks the shell of Harry’s ear.
“Ah…Malfoy!”
Malfoy hushes Harry idly, redirecting his attention to Harry’s pale neck. He places breathy open-mouthed kisses up and down the length, giving particular attention to Harry’s fluttering pulse point.
“Wait…wait…stop.” Harry pleads.
Malfoy hums against Harry’s neck, causing a bolt of pleasure in the pit of his stomach.
“Do you really want me to?” He asks, leaning back to look in Harry’s eyes.
Harry pauses for a moment. His face is flushed and his heart racing. Slowly, hesitantly, he shakes his head. Malfoy grins in triumph, crashing their lips together once more. He coaxes Harry into responsiveness with quick strokes of his talented tongue, biting teasingly at Harry’s quickly reddening lips. Harry can feel Malfoy’s hands roaming over his back, his hips, his arse. Harry groans, and realises that he is hard, almost painfully so. He knows Malfoy can feel it against his thigh, just as he can feel Malfoy’s hardness pressed against his stomach. Harry bucks his hips as Malfoy slips his fingers beneath his shirt, coming undone at Malfoy’s hands. For moment, Malfoy pulls away, and Harry whimpers at the loss.
“Gods, Potter, who knew you’d be so lewd.” Malfoy sounds almost awed.
Malfoy caresses Harry’s cheek briefly, before working on the buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest and flat, rosy nipples. His mouth latches onto one, laving it with licks and kisses until it stands at a hard peak, but continues to pinch and caress even as he moves his attentions to its twin. Harry’s hands are balled in the shoulders of Malfoy’s shirt, and his legs are quivering in his effort to stand upright.
Malfoy looks up, slender fingers trailing along Harry’s hipbones. Harry looks utterly debauched. His hair is dishevelled, lips bruised, and his neck and chest are littered with the evidence of Malfoy’s passions.
“Wanted you for so long, Potter.” Malfoy pants.
Harry is surprised, but does not doubt the truthfulness of Malfoy’s words. His face is earnest, and his eyes filled with a fiery need. Harry feels heat rising to his face, and he licks his lips slowly.
“Then…take me.” Harry says, flushed cheeks hidden behind an arm.
Malfoy needs no more invitation. He stands, gathering Harry to his chest, before pushing him backwards onto a generously sized four-poster bed. The deep green duvet feels like heaven on Harry’s bare back, but he his far more interested with the sight of Malfoy, white blond hair haloed with light from the fire, straddled across his hips.
Harry reaches up, slowly undoing the buttons of Malfoy’s shirt. Malfoy is pale, but toned and perfect, marred only by the remnants of a jagged scar bisecting his chest. Harry traces it gently with his fingers, eyes downcast in shame.
“Don’t.” Malfoy whispered, chastely kissing each of Harry’s fingertips.
Harry quickly kicks off his shoes, noting that Malfoy’s feet are already bare. Malfoy smiles, and moves his hands to Harry’s belt, unfastening it with exaggerated slowness. He slides it from its belt loops and pops Harry’s button, making quick work of the zipper. Malfoy slides backwards, rolling down Harry’s trousers as he goes, sliding his hands firmly down his thighs. Harry is practically quivering with anticipation.
Harry’s trousers drop in a heap on the floor, and he is left only in a pair of white briefs. His cock is straining against its confines; the thin cotton already damp with pre-cum. Harry bites his lip as Malfoy appraises him. He can feel the other’s hands ghosting down his chest and stomach, before bypassing the zone of his urgency, and fluttering down his thighs. Harry bucks his hips impatiently, but Malfoy holds him down with a firm hand.
“Please.” Harry whispers.
Malfoy hums questioningly, an eyebrow raised.
“Stop teasing me, Malfoy.”
“Tell me what you want, then, Potter.” Malfoy demands, voice barely a breath.
Harry reaches out a hand, grasping Malfoy’s wrist and pulling it to cup his arousal.
“Want you to touch me.”
Malfoy laughs, satisfied, before slipping his hand beneath the band of Harry’s briefs, fingers dancing along the hardened flesh. Harry jolts, and a moan comes unbidden from his swollen lips. He can feel the blond’s hand slowly caressing his member, taunting, smearing slick pre-cum down the length. Harry can hear his own breath, loud and desperate. Suddenly, Malfoy’s hand circles his cock and he begins pumping the length, somehow just the way Harry likes it.
“Oh. Oh.” Harry gasps, rolling his hips in time with Malfoy’s hand.
He can feel his climax oncoming in the pit of his stomach, and he thrusts his hips determinedly. But then Malfoy’s hand stills, and Harry keens at the loss. Malfoy hushes him absentmindedly, and slips Harry’s boxers down his thighs, joining his trousers in a pile on the floor. Harry is perfect, all pale flesh splayed out against Slytherin green. His long black lashes are resting on flushed cheeks, his lips are almost bruised from Malfoy’s kisses, and love bites are scattered across his neck. Harry’s legs are resting open, his chest heaving, nipples still peaked, and his reddened and slick cock heavy against his stomach. Beneath his balls, Malfoy can see a puckered pink hole, waiting to be filled. Harry’s eyes flutter open, and their green is startling, but even better is the pure, unadulterated lust that is shining through them. Malfoy is triumphant in the knowledge that he is the one Harry is eyeing with need.
Malfoy lowers his face to Harry’s quivering cock, licking one swipe from root to tip. He sucks gently on the pink crown, toying with Harry’s balls as he does so. The Gryffindor’s moans are music to his ears, and he slides his mouth up and down the length to show his appreciation. Just as he feels that Harry is about to reach his peak, Malfoy clamps his hand around the base of his cock. Harry whimpers, attempting to create friction with small bucks of his hips.
“No. You’re not cumming until I’m inside you, Potter.”
“Then get on with it!” Harry cries.
Malfoy grins, “With pleasure.”
Harry watches as Malfoy unbuckles his own belt and quickly pulls off his impeccably tailored trousers. Harry swallows at the sight of Malfoy’s nakedness. His legs are long, impossibly long, and his thighs are smooth and toned. But between his legs, nestled in a thatch of white blond pubic hair, Malfoy’s proud cock stands at attention. It is long and weighty, and Harry can’t imagine how it will feel when it is inside him. Harry’s lips part slightly when Malfoy gives it several long strokes.
And then Malfoy is climbing over him, but this time his cock hovers over Harry’s mouth, and Harry knows what he’s after.
“I’ve never…” He starts, before deciding it doesn’t matter. He’ll do anything at this point.
Harry tests the tip of Malfoy’s hardness on his tongue, recoiling slightly at the saltiness. Soon Harry is sliding his lips along the member enthusiastically, tracing his tongue over an enlarged vein on the underside. Malfoy’s own mouth is again paying attention to Harry’s cock, and he can feel the vibrations of Malfoy’s groans right down to his toes. Harry is so distracted he almost doesn’t feel a slick finger breaching the walls of his ass. He lets out an undignified squeak as it explores his passage, stretching and teasing. Soon, one finger is not enough, and Malfoy inserts a second, preparing him with scissoring motions. Harry moans around the blond’s thick cock, the head of it tapping against Harry’s throat.
Harry gasps in slight pain as a third finger joins, but Malfoy soothes the burn by suckling on the head of his still-leaking member. And that’s when Harry sees stars, Malfoy’s fingers hitting a place inside of him that brings indescribable pleasure. Harry releases Malfoy’s cock and moans with abandon as Malfoy repeatedly nudges his prostate with the tips of his fingers. However, the other boy withdraws his fingers all too soon. Harry feels suddenly empty, his hole clamping around air.
Malfoy lifts his body off Harry’s, and flips him onto all fours. He spreads his ass, watching Harry’s winking hole with satisfaction. He lines up, before slowly sinking his cock into the tight warmth. Harry keens in pleasure as Malfoy immediately knocks his prostate. It masks the burning stretch of his entry, and Harry’s own cock spasms. Soon, Malfoy is buried to the hilt, slumped over Harry’s back in pleasure. He pauses, waiting for Harry to adjust to his size. It is not until Harry begins to rock back onto his cock impatiently that he begins to thrust. Being inside Harry is euphoric. He is wonderfully tight, wet and warm, and Malfoy knows he was untouched until this day. Malfoy bucks his hips sharply, groaning low in his throat.
“You’re mine, Potter!” He growls in Harry’s ear.
Harry only nods. Words are beyond him and all he can do his moan and gasp at the utter pleasure he is feeling at Malfoy’s ministrations. Malfoy is clasping Harry’s hips roughly, and Harry knows there will be bruises, but he cares little. Not when Malfoy is feathering kisses down his spine, and the heat of his climax is pooling in his stomach.
“Malfoy…gonna cum.” Harry wails.
Malfoy quickly changes their positions, Harry now on his back, legs wrapped around Malfoy’s waist as he continues to thrust. Harry’s eyes are clenched shut in ecstasy.
“Look at me.”
With effort, Harry’s emerald eyes slide open, meeting Malfoy’s own steel grey. How long he has wanted Potter beneath him like this. He leans forward, capturing Harry’s lips in a heated kiss. Harry tangles his fingers in Malfoy’s now dishevelled hair, crying his bliss into his ear.
“Oh, Malfoy!” He croons.
“Not that,” Malfoy bites out, “Say my name.”
Harry easily complies, as his walls clamp down on Malfoy’s cock in his climax. Malfoy grunts at the tightness, quickening his pace as he feels his own peak approaching.
“Draco…Draco!”
“Harry.” He groans as he shudders his release.
For a moment, they are both still, sweat cooling their bodies. The only sound that fills the room is their pants of exertion, and the merry crackling of the hearth. Slowly, Draco slides out of Harry’s leaking hole, collapsing to the bed beside him, spent. He presses an open mouthed kiss against Harry’s neck, gathering him into strong arms. Harry sighs contentedly, tucking his head against Malfoy’s shoulder.
“Potter, you’re mine, now.” Malfoy murmurs against his ear, “And I am yours.”
Harry hums in agreement.
“My Harry.”
Harry glances at Malfoy. His face is relaxed in his post-orgasmic haze, and it is not possession he sees in those steel grey eyes, but tenderness. Harry smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to Draco’s lips.
Draco closes his eyes, and Harry feels comfortable in those arms. Soon, all he hears are the blond’s even breaths as he drifts to sleep.
“I knew you were up to something.” Harry whispers.
Draco snakes an arm around Harry’s waist, pulling them closer together.
“Always.”
--FIN--