A/N: Hey lovelies! Okay, this is THE dirtiest thing I've ever written in my life.
Warnings: Boysex, rough boysex, swearies.
DISCLAIMER: No, I didn't make up Harry or Draco or any others. Or Hogwarts.
Damn it. Draco needed another washroom break. And it wasn't because he had to actually go. It was because Harry Damned Potter had gotten that damned pet of his!
That's when this whole mess had started. You see, a few weeks ago, when classes at Hogwarts had commenced for the year, Potter had arrived with a new pet snake. Apparently, it had been a gift from that oaf of a gamekeeper Potter and his friends were so chummy with.
It was a small snake, and no longer harmful, thanks to a few simple spells, but the thing was, Potter could talk to it, couldn't he? Yes. And it turns out, Draco has a sort of, well, a kink.
A parseltongue kink.
It had taken him quite by surprise the first time he'd heard Potter hissing and sighing away in that desperate, needy, incredibly sexual sounding language…Almost immediately, he'd found himself aroused beyond hiding. He'd had to run off in a very undignified manner, trying to cover his suspicious bulge with his robes.
Draco had been so shocked, he'd forgotten to be angry with Potter. But when it happened again, in the halls, when he'd snatched a piece of reptilian conversation, and he felt himself grow hard again, undeniably excited, he realized that it wasn't a fluke. And that it was all Potter's fault, whatever it was.
Damn him for being the only one. If there'd been another parselmouth in the school, he could have gotten his fill with that Other person, and not have to think of his arch nemesis in this highly inappropriate way. Not that he was…doing that…He wasn't thinking of Potter, he was just thinking about, erm, parseltongue. About that breathy, panting, whispered sort of sound, permeated with endless sharp S sounds, hissed quickly and passionately and almost angrily…On that rapid tongue, sliding between his teeth, and green eyes alight with attentiveness and –
And this had to end.
Either he had to kill the snake, or he had to kill Potter.
Right now, he really needed to get to that washroom…
Okay. Okay, we're back, we're fresh, we're not getting turned on by Potter's nasty mouth. Draco was feeling in rather the right mindset as he strolled down the corridor, heading to class.
Defense Against the Dark Arts. (Lupin had come back to teach after his successors had all been spectacularly awful.) And do you know what they happened to discuss on this particular day? Well, they had been discussing the taming and training of animals, on both the dark and light sides. There was, of course, a mention of snakes, a favourite of Voldemort, and of parseltongue. Draco inwardly groaned, but even more inwardly, was a little bit pleased.
"Harry, we know that you've got this particular skill, I'm sure the class would appreciate seeing it, hm?" said Professor Lupin, with an encouraging smile.
The boy cleared his throat and shifted to become more upright.
"I, erm, I can really only do it when there's an actual snake near me, do you mind?"
Lupin shook his head, and Potter dug his little pet out of one of his roomier robe pockets. He let the creature slide between his fingers as he began to speak to it.
The entire class watched intently. Draco stared avidly. He felt that awful, shameful, hot little ball in his stomach, doing something weird to him, and as he watched the dark-haired boy speak, he hated him. Why did he have this power over Draco, why him? Anyone but Harry Potter.
But it wasn't anyone but Harry Potter, and Harry Potter's short class demonstration left Draco in angry little pieces. Angry horny little pieces. He was so turned on. Fuck. Draco took a deep breath and tried to think of v. v. v. un-sexy things. He tried thinking of Snape in a bikini, and Dumbledore kissing McGonagall, and of Weasel, naked. All at once. Luckily, it worked. This time.
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. Draco avoided seeing Potter, and that made everything normal again. Well, except for the part where he didn't see Potter. That wasn't really normal.
But don't worry, it didn't last long.
That night – it was quite late, actually – Draco was doing his Prefect rounds when he came across the one and only Boy-Who-Lived. And bloody fuck, he wasn't speaking English. Christ. Draco snapped. He ran at the brunette and threw him into a wall, wrestling the snake out of his grip. He grasped it in his fist as he gestured wildly to Potter.
"Would you stop bloody talking to this thing?? Nobody can understand you, it's fucking annoying!"
Harry eyed him angrily.
"Malfoy, what the fuck? Give me my snake. And back the fuck off of me," he said bitterly, as Draco was standing quite near.
"But Potter," drawled Draco, firmly back in his element, "I am a Prefect. And you are out of bed, far too late. A growing boy needs his rest. I really should punish you somehow."
Potter growled in frustration, and Draco smirked. However, at this most inopportune moment, our blonde heard the reptile in his fist hiss. A horrified glance at Potter told him that this was going to be a very hard time.
The hissing began, the tongue flicked, the hot breath infused each sound, Draco was ruined. Potter was only at it for a moment, but it seemed forever to Draco, and he let out a soft whimper. Green eyes turned to him, puzzled.
"Are you – are you quite alright, Malfoy?"
"Yes, I'm alright, Potter!" he spat, with a little less venom than he felt was needed.
"But --" Harry started, but then he seemed to catch sight of something Draco would probably have rather died than let him see. His eyes widened. Then he seemed to understand, (the boy was really very intuitive, Draco had to grudgingly admit), and he smirked. "Malfoy…what's this, hm?"
The Malfoy pallor was botched, for a moment. "Nothing! Gods, Potter, why don't you just fuck off!"
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"But you've still got my snake in your hand." Draco's head snapped up. Yes, he'd done that on purpose. Bastard. He tossed the thing onto the ground.
"There's your damn snake, now get the fuck away from me!"
But Harry seemed to have decided to torture Draco. He crouched down and summoned his pet to him. In its native tongue. Shiiiiiit.
Draco had to bite his lips. He opened his eyes to see Potter staring at him, a delighted look gracing his features.
"Malfoy…" he smirked. That was Draco's job! "Are you…turned on…by parseltongue?" he asked, walking steadily nearer. He slipped the little snake back into his pocket.
Draco swallowed. He was steadily being backed into the wall by Potter, who was sporting a rather uncharacteristically naughty look.
"Potter, I'm not a f- a f-" he was cut off by Harry Potter, whispering exotic erotic nonsensical parseltongue into his ear. "A freak…Oh fuck…" He leaned his head back for a moment and – and then grasped reality again for a moment. "Potter! Fucking stop it! What the hell do you think you're doing? And, and I thought you couldn't do it without a snake in front of you?"
Harry laughed, and raised an eyebrow at Draco. Then he looked pointedly down at the blonde's obvious arousal, bulging out, tenting his trousers.
"Oh…" said Draco. Then, "OH!" as Harry suddenly dropped to his knees in front of him. "Potter NO! THIS IS ALL WRONG! PL-" more hissing, along with the unzipping of pants. He was about to protest again when Harry pulled down his boxers and trousers and ran his tongue down the length of Draco's hardened cock, on the underside.
"Whoa, shit, fuck…Oh my god…Potter, I'm telling you, this is wrong, so wro-AH!"
Harry had slowly and enticingly taken as much of Draco into his mouth as he could, engulfing the whole head. Draco moaned and leaned his head back against the cold stone of the corridor, tangling his fingers into the black mass at his waist.
Draco knew that this was bad. Or, he had known. Now he knew nothing, knew nothing but that talented tongue swirling around his buzzing nerve endings. Harry pulled off and blew hotly on Draco's tip. Then he said something, something Draco didn't understand, something in parseltongue. Draco's mind exploded as soon as he heard it. Not only did he hear it, he felt it, felt the hot breath of those intensely passionate sounds surrounding his pulsing erection.
His knees weakened. He leaned more heavily on the wall, and he whimpered and panted. Harry took him inside again, and he began thrusting wildly into the boy's mouth, reaching into his throat. His slender fingers involuntarily tightened their grip in that black hair, and he pulled Harry's head toward him, onto him. One of the boy's hands began caressing his balls, and the other tried to hold him still, at the hips.
But then Harry pulled away. Draco made a noise of protest, but it was quickly silenced with a burning, rough kiss, plunging deep into his mouth, and a calloused hand began to stroke his inflated dick.
Draco managed, at the same time, to undo Harry's pants and free his erection. Then the blonde abruptly flipped himself around, the side of his cheek pressed into the cold stone.
"Potter, hurry," was all he said. Was all he needed to say. Harry slid inside Draco with no preparation at all. The cries echoed throughout the corridor. Draco panted heavily, trying frantically to adjust himself to accommodate Harry. His cock softened visibly as the pain got to him. But then a hot, sweet nibble on his neck, and whispered words of comfort, and the pain was less painful. And then into his throat, snake language. The blood rushed back downwards. He began rocking slowly on Harry's member, making the boy moan, and move faster. Eventually, the brunette was slamming hard into the blonde, pressing him to the wall with each movement, each thrust stimulating the boy's prostrate. Magical spots of insane pleasure danced in Draco's eyes. Hands, cries, concrete, pain, tongues, and the sound of sex through it all. Draco felt as if he were on drugs. It was like being on drugs, for the climax; it was the highest he'd ever been in his life.
The two of them collapsed, fell hard onto the floor, surrounded by darkness and the echoes of their own panting. Draco knew he was bleeding. He didn't much care.
His problem was solved.