Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: Of Thwarted Plans
Author: Faith Wood
Summary: Draco had a plan. A very good, solid plan. Trust Potter to thwart him.
Rating: NC-17 (Please heed!)
Genre: Humor, Fluff
Word Count: 8510
Warnings: Sexual content.
Of Thwarted Plans
Draco Malfoy had a plan. It was a good plan too. He would sneak out of the dormitories and head out for the Room of Requirement, and once there, he would brood and maybe have a peaceful wank. Well, okay, he would definitely have a wank, yes, that was why he was going there. It wasn't his fault he liked to be somewhere quiet, on a preferably squishy bed with silk sheets, and you didn't get that in the dormitories. It wasn't like Draco was fussy about these things, like silky sheets, it's just ... well, he had standards.
When he thought about his plan later, he realised that he should've known. Really, every single plan he ever had ended the same. Somehow, incredibly, impossibly he was viciously thwarted by bloody Potter.
Draco didn't know, when he entered the room, that it was already in use, but he should've known, because that was just his life. Nothing ever went his way.
The room was draped in gold, red, and candlelight, and it was so tacky that Draco couldn't forgive himself for not realising instantaneously that Potter was there.
It took a splash of water to alert him that he wasn't alone. He turned around, bewildered, and realised that in the far corner of the room there was a huge circular bathtub. A huge circular, occupied bathtub.
So, okay, maybe the logical thing to do at that point would be to run out, but Draco's feet stumbled on a silvery fabric, and he knew who was in the bath even though he didn't see him yet. Draco wasn't sure what possessed him to pick up Potter's Invisibility Cloak and drape it over his shoulders. It wasn't like Draco wanted to see Potter naked. Of course not. What a disgusting thought. No, it was more of a ... you know, seeing him naked for a laugh. Because Potter was a scrawny little thing, and his prick was tiny, of course it was. That was just logic. Draco stayed to have a laugh, not to get some weird, unwanted wank-fodder.
So, he waited impatiently — really, he had much better things to do, like have a wank, and oh, that plan was completely ruined, by the way, thanks to Potter. Draco could either leave now, and not have a wank, or stay to see Potter naked, which, of course, would be an equivalent of a cold shower, and not have a wank. Thank you very much, Scarface!
Another splash was heard and Draco craned his neck to see better, as Harry Potter emerged from the bathtub.
Well, Merlin's sagging bollocks. The person that rose from the tub was lean and muscular and ... handsome and ... ravishable.
Okay, so that obviously wasn't Potter. Draco watched as the figure dried himself off with a quick spell, making steam rise from his body, leaving him dry and leaving Draco aroused.
Well, maybe he looked a bit like Potter. He had his hair. Now that it was dry, it was hard to miss the there's-a-big-storm-outside style Potter fancied. Then there was the telltale scar, which Draco saw even from where he was standing a few feet away. And this person had green eyes that looked ... greener somehow without Potter's glasses.
Okay, so obviously it was Potter. But where did Potter get those muscles? He always looked so pathetic in those stupid oversized clothes of his. And well, that was a nice cock. Not humungous or anything, just perfect-sized, proportional ...
Merlin! Did he, Draco Malfoy, just proclaim that he liked Potter's cock? He had to get out of here. Fast. There was a strange mind-controlling spell on this place. Yes, that was it. He needed to leave.
Potter crossed the room, moving towards the bed, and Draco didn't dare to breathe, not to mention move. Potter passed by him just inches away, well, okay feet, but still, it was much too close. Because Potter was naked, and just prancing around without any clothes on like he owned the place.
Potter walked to the bed and apparently decided to climb on top of it, giving Draco a nice view of ... um ... lovely, rounded buttocks. Lickable buttocks.
Draco wished he could slap himself. The weird mind-controlling spell on this place was making him think like this, he reminded himself. Draco didn't actually think like this about Potter's arse. Potter's arse was the farthest thing on his mind. No, wait, Potter's arse was never in Draco's mind. For Merlin's sake, Draco wasn't even gay!
Well, okay, he was, if you wanted to get technical about it. Maybe he didn't have sex with a girl, yet, and maybe he sucked a cock ... or two, and maybe he fucked a guy once, or twice. Okay, fourteen times and a half. (And no one would ever know what that half means, but it happens to everyone, okay?) But he wasn't really gay; because of course, he would marry a girl. One day. To secure the Malfoy line and all ... It was only proper ...
Was Potter caressing himself?
It was time for Draco to leave. Potter was here to have a wank, that much was obvious, and Draco should leave. Or he could hex Potter. Or he could Vanish his clothes!
Pleased with this new plan, Draco moved closer to the bed. To find Potter's clothes, of course. Not to ogle or anything. Potter's clothes were probably near the bathtub, a little evil voice in Draco's head said. Draco mentally squashed his stupid, unhelpful thoughts.
Potter was lying on his back on the bed, completely naked, his eyes closed, his left hand pinching his nipple, and his right hand trailing over his flat stomach.
This did not affect Draco. Oh no.
He did get a little closer, his toes hitting the bed, and Potter was right there in front of him, touching himself, as though this was some private display just for Draco. So, okay, maybe Draco thought about Potter sometimes, but now his fantasies paled in comparison with the real thing. Potter was not so ... well, sexual in his fantasies. He was a bit of an idiot in his fantasies, really. Draco swallowed and took a careful breath. His traitorous body informed him that he liked this display a lot. Damn.
Potter shifted restlessly and reached out for his wand and waved it in the direction of his nipple. Draco watched, amazed, as Potter hissed when a small silver hoop appeared on Potter's left nipple. Potter took the hoop between his fingers and pulled it none too gently, moaning as he did so.
Draco nearly whimpered, his mouth suddenly dry, his tongue desperate to lick the flesh Potter was abusing. The pink nub was soon swollen and Potter bit his lip and moaned, as he moved towards the other nipple and pinched that one as well until it looked equally abused. Potter's other hand was caressing one thigh with lazy strokes. He was clearly teasing himself, trying not to grab his achingly hard cock. Cock that made Draco's mouth water with the desire to taste it.
Potter stopped suddenly, and Draco almost screamed at him to get the fuck back to what he was doing. Waving his wand again, and murmuring the incantation Draco knew very well, Potter moved his now wet, right hand towards his cock.
It was a hard decision for Draco. Should he keep watching Potter fondle the silver ring on his nipple or should he watch him stroke his cock?
But Draco reached his decision when Potter's hand bypassed the heavy cock, and reached behind Potter's balls, to ...
Draco bit his lip and smirked under the Invisibility Cloak. Well, well, well, who would have thought? Potter liked to play with his arse, did he?
Potter liked that a lot, apparently, because he moaned, as he pushed, not one but two fingers inside his arse with practiced ease. He lifted his arse in the air, digging in his heels on the bed, but his fingers slipped out, so he lifted his feet up instead, bending them at the knees, exposing his opening completely to Draco's hot gaze. He shoved his fingers inside more forcefully, fucking himself, not forgetting to pull the ring with his other hand.
Draco could feel his blood rush to his cock, he could feel it throb, and he thought that in that moment he would give anything just to be allowed to shove it in Potter's arse.
Soon, Potter was impaling himself on three fingers, the sight of that the most erotic thing that Draco had ever seen and he had seen ... stuff. But the most beautiful things were the sounds Potter was making, the breathless little moans that were inflaming Draco's insides. Just as Draco considered the possibility to take off the cloak and just fuck Potter right there and then, consequences be dammed, Potter stopped and moved his hands away.
Green eyes snapped open and Potter took several deep breaths, apparently trying to calm himself. He lifted up a little, and Draco watched, mesmerized, as Potter's expression became on of deep concentration and quite suddenly, a flesh-coloured dildo appeared in Potter's hand.
Draco decided he wouldn't fuck Potter just yet. This was something that he wanted to see.
But much to Draco's surprise, Potter didn't reach down and shoved the thing inside, instead he sat up and then knelt down, coming dangerously close to Draco and Draco stopped breathing just in case. Potter was to far gone to notice anything though, and he sat on his heels and waved his wand at the dildo again.
Bemused, Draco watched with raised eyebrows as the dildo stilled in the air right in front of Potter's face.
It was truly amazing that Draco didn't whimper aloud when he realised what Potter was about to do. He did whimper however, when Potter stuck out his tongue and licked the dildo wetly. But Potter moaned loudly at the same time and Draco allowed himself to hope that his own sounds remained unheard.
Potter moved his tongue slowly and expertly, licking form the base to the tip with long, wet swipes, moaning as he did so, clearly enjoying himself immensely.
They both whimpered again as Potter took the dildo fully in his mouth, his hands travelling downwards to fondle his balls, but carefully avoiding his cock.
Potter's cheeks hollowed as he sucked the toy, letting it leave his mouth completely. He finished the movement with an audible slurp, a circular swipe of his tongue, and a sharp intake of breath, before he took the dildo back inside his mouth greedily, taking more and more of it in every time, until he managed to take the whole thing, swallowing and groaning.
Draco was desperate to touch himself. He needed relief, he needed to take off his pants and wrap his hands around his own cock. Or better yet, he needed those full lips to wrap themselves around him, and he needed that mouth to suck him dry. If he didn't do something soon, Draco was sure that he was going to die!
This was too much for Potter as well, apparently, because soon enough he stopped and took the wand in his hand again. Draco didn't react only because he wanted to know what Potter would do next.
Potter breathed with difficultly, and was seemingly unable to decide what he wanted to do. Draco was prepared to release him from his miseries and decide instead of him. Really — not a problem. All that Potter needed to do was bend over. But Potter finally reached a decision and waved his wand at the roof of the bed and a long rope appeared in front of him.
Puzzled, Draco watched, wide-eyed as Potter charmed the dildo behind himself, and Draco could easily deduct from the rise of Potter's arse and a shuddering moan that followed, that the dildo penetrated him.
Soon he realised that Potter needed the rope for support, because he grabbed it firmly and murmured the spell to make the dildo move on its own and fuck him.
Potter was gripping the rope, practically sagging on it and making small needy sounds as he rocked in time with the dildo's thrusts, the muscles in his thighs stretching and shuddering.
Draco cursed inwardly, he wanted to see the dildo, but he would have to move form his current position and walk around the bed to do that, and he didn't want to stop watching Potter's face that was contorted in pleasure and need. In the very moment Draco thought that, a mirror appeared by the side of the bed, and suddenly Draco could see quite clearly the dildo that moved inside Potter's arse, with fast, strong thrusts that just had to be painful.
This was a beautiful, wonderful, helpful room, really.
But Draco couldn't take this anymore — this was too much. Potter looked so fuckable that Draco decided that he simply had to have him. Right now or he would go insane.
Potter reached with one of his hands for his cock and soon he was pulling on it harshly, making choking sounds, his whole body trembling from arousal and exertion.
Draco made a plan. He would take off this cloak, Disarm Potter, take out the stupid, undeserving, lucky dildo out of Potter's arse, and shove his own cock inside.
Draco's rarely acknowledged morals squirmed at the thought. That would be rape, wouldn't it?
Potter moaned out a dying sound, shuddering and twitching, and Draco's morals flew through the window. He would take off his cloak, he would fuck him, then he would Obliviate him, and then he would run — that was simple enough. Potter wouldn't be happy about it, but well, what could Draco do? He doubted very much that Potter would let him fuck him if Draco asked politely. Obviously, that would never happen ...
"Draco!" Potter howled and came spectacularly, all over his hand and the bed.
Draco froze, and the hand that was already removing the cloak remained stuck in the air.
Draco? That was his name.
Did Potter just ...?
Draco stared at his school rival, the boy who had always hated him, the boy who barely noticed him.
The boy who cried out his name during orgasm.
Well, there you go now. See? Draco had a plan. A very good, solid plan.
Fuck, Obliviate, leave.
Trust Potter to thwart him.
You would think that Draco stayed to fuck Potter, wouldn't you? Well, he didn't. He did the only thing that made sense to him in that moment. He ran. Well, first, he Stunned Potter and then he ran. He needed to think about this. A lot.
Of course, first he needed a wank. He ducked behind a suit of armour, unzipped his pants and after a couple of jerks, he came all over his hand. The suit of armour ran in horror, and a pretty girl in a portrait nearby, blushed crimson.
Draco barely noticed any of it.
He dragged himself back to his dormitory and climbed on his bed, ignoring Blaise, who was trying hard to get Draco's attention.
Draco needed to think, and he also needed a plan.
So, Potter had a thing for him. Well, that was hardly surprising — Draco was a sex god, after all. Certainly, half of the school was crying out Draco's name when wanking; Draco smirked.
But still ... Potter?
As far as Draco could remember, Potter always had a girl on hand. There was that Indian girl in their fourth year, and all those articles about him and the Mud ... er ... Granger, then that Cho-person, and he seemed pretty close to that weirdo Loony Ravenclaw, and then of course there was Weaslette. Not that Draco cared about Potter's love life or anything. Everyone knew this about Potter.
This just didn't make any sense.
Draco would have to investigate.
So, okay, maybe his methods weren't perfect.
He purposely bumped into Potter the next day, and received a green-eyed glare and an almost-hex from Weasley.
By the way, Potter was a complete girl, because when Draco pushed him he nearly fell. That might explain the glare though, so maybe that incident didn't prove anything.
He thought he should perhaps try to be nice. Therefore, when Potter dropped his Sopophorous Bean in Potions, Draco bent down and picked it up, smiling his most charming smile.
Potter looked terrified.
Well, actually the whole class looked terrified. They were all staring at him as though Draco suddenly went insane.
Well, there you go. That was what he got for trying to be nice.
Then the next day while they were going to class, Potter's bag randomly exploded and all of his books fell out. Okay, fine, Draco hexed it on purpose, but that was beside the point. The point was, when Draco helped Potter to collect his books, and actually fixed his bag, smiling and making random small talk, Potter looked like he might just faint from shook.
Well, obviously, Potter was completely and totally in love, Draco thought amusedly, after Potter ran away as though there was a herd of Hippogriffs chasing him.
But this playing hard to get thing was getting on Draco's nerves. Really, it was just ridiculous. Potter wanted him, Draco wanted Potter ... Well, he did, so what?
Not to date or anything, no, no ... just to fuck. Once. Or, you know, whenever. And that just didn't classify as dating, okay?
It was time for drastic measures.
Draco had a brilliant plan. They had double Transfiguration tomorrow, which meant that his dormitory would be empty at that time. All that Draco had to do was skip that class.
Oh, and kidnap Potter.
That was surprisingly simple.
Right after lunch, Draco told Blaise that he wasn't feeling very well, and that he would go and lie down. Then he followed Potter and his little band of groupies. They had a free period and they were probably heading for their Common Room, and Draco almost gave up, because there was no way the he could get near Potter with all of Gryffindor in the way.
But, amazingly, Potter whispered something to the group and moved away heading further down the corridor. Completely alone.
Maybe he saw me, Draco thought, and did that on purpose.
Either way, Draco was taking no chances, and the moment that the Gryffindors were out of sight he ran after Potter. Potter had no time to react because Draco Stunned him immediately.
He came closer to Potter, who was lying down on the floor, unconscious, and peered into his face carefully. The face that Draco knew how it looked like when in throes of passion. Draco shuddered a little, his cock stirring at the memory of the other night.
Well, now all he had to do was carry Potter into his room. Unseen.
Draco hoped that Potter had his Invisibility Cloak on him, but no such luck. He searched thoroughly. He didn't grope Potter, though — he wasn't some pervert. Please.
He heard voices in the distance and realized that he would have to hurry up.
A brilliant idea came to his mind.
"Kreacher?" he asked hopefully, but nothing happened. "Um ... Kreacher, Harry Potter needs you?"
With a crack, an ugly old house-elf appeared in front of him.
"Young Master Malfoy, how can ... Oh!" Kreacher squealed after seeing Potter on the floor.
Draco hurried to soothe him. "Kreacher, it's fine. I can help him. We just need to get him to my room. Could you Apparate us?"
"Master Potter should go to the Hospital Wing!" Kreacher declared forcefully.
"Kreacher, I order you to Apparate us into my room!" Draco said with equal force. Kreacher looked indecisive, so Draco added, "That's Pot ... Harry's wish. Come on, Kreacher. You can trust me," Draco said with the most earnest expression he could muster.
Kreacher relaxed and gave him a fond look. "Of course, young Master Malfoy!" he declared, grabbing both Potter and Draco and Disapparating with them.
And that was that. For once Draco's plan worked.
This was the best plan ever, Draco thought as he stared at Harry Potter, bound and gagged, sitting on a chair in Draco's room. He was still unconscious, and Draco had a fun time imagining what Potter's reaction would be once he woke up.
Draco checked his watch — he still had well over an hour before his dorm mates came back. Plenty of time to fuck Potter properly.
Potter groaned, and Draco perked up, waiting for Potter to open his eyes.
Dark lashes fluttered, and suddenly green eyes opened widely, looking around in horror. Potter wriggled and tried desperately to free himself, but he was bound quite tightly. Draco smirked, although he was a little surprised when Potter looked directly at him with obvious fear.
That was a bit unsettling. Draco didn't want Potter to look at him like that. That was all wrong.
"Calm down, will you?" Draco said impatiently.
Potter stilled at the sound of Draco's voice, and stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Mrph?" Potter said something that was clearly meant as a question. It might have meant, 'Malfoy?'
Draco smirked at him. "Oh, I know something about you, Potter," he said, coming closer and leaning in so that their foreheads were nearly touching. Potter's eyes were impossibly wide. "I know what you think about when you're having a wank." Draco smiled and unable to resist he lowered his lips and cheekily kissed the tip of Potter's nose.
Potter went so still, he might as well been dead.
He blinked several times and said, "Hm?"
"I saw you," Draco murmured, his voice turning low. He could feel his arousal building steadily. Potter's proximity was doing this to him. The bastard smelled so nice. "I saw what you were doing in the Room of Requirement the other day." Potter cocked his head, and Draco continued. "I heard you crying out my name when you came," Draco said proudly, and really, if Potter could bulge his eyes any further, they would fall out.
Potter started to shake his head frantically and murmuring nonsense words.
"Hey, calm down," Draco tried to soothe him. "It's okay. I don't mind. On the contrary. That was amazing, Potter." Draco swallowed. Why the hell had he confessed that? But at least Potter stilled, though he was still clearly in shock.
To demonstrate to Potter that he meant what he said, Draco bent his head a little, and kissed Potter's temple gently. He was just gentle because Potter was being such a girl, not because Draco wanted to be gentle with Potter. As if. He just wanted to fuck him, remember? Gentleness was a necessity at this point. Potter was clearly in denial.
Potter made the oddest sound and froze as Draco trailed his lips slowly over Potter's cheek, and then bending even lower, he peppered small kisses along Potter's jaw, moving to lick Potter's Adam's apple, that jumped under his tongue as Potter swallowed heavily. "You just," Draco managed breathlessly, "taste so good."
Potter made a funny gurgling noise.
Draco placed a hand on Potter's head, angling him so he could move his lips between Potter's hairline and his ear, biting and sucking the soft, soft skin there. Potter shuddered.
It was extremely difficult for Draco to separate himself from the warm, tasty skin of Potter's neck, but he managed to move his lips to Potter's cheek, only after he thoroughly sucked on Potter's earlobe, which earned him some truly odd sounds from Potter. "Merlin, Potter," Draco murmured, "I want to fuck you so much." Potter gasped and choked. "Shh, don't worry, I'll be so careful with you, you'll love it, I promise. I have wanted you so much for so long," Draco said softly, not really aware what he was saying.
Draco buried his hands in Potter's messy locks, caressing the soft strands tenderly, and he murmured next to Potter's ear, his lips barely separating from the warm skin, "Would you like me to take off the gag and kiss you?"
Potter shuddered again, but made no response. The gag in Potter's mouth didn't obscure his full lips, and Draco stuck out his tongue and licked Potter's bottom lip, loving the silky softness of it. Potter drew a sharp breath. "Do you want me to kiss you, Harry?" Draco asked, enjoying the feel of Harry's name on his tongue, but Potter made no sound at all. Annoyed, Draco pulled away reluctantly and peered into Potter's still incredibly shocked face. Shaking his head in disbelief, Draco reached for the gag, intending to untie it, but quite unexpectedly, the door of the room flew open.
Draco straightened hastily, looking at Blaise Zabini in shock.
But Draco's shock was nothing compared to Blaise's expression. "I came to see if you were all right," Blaise said weakly, staring at the bound and tied-up Potter in disbelief.
"I'm fine," Draco said quickly. "Go away!"
"Er ... what are you doing? Trying to get yourself expelled? The war is over, Draco. This is pointless. And you were on the winning side!" Blaise raged.
Draco waved him off. "You're getting this whole thing wrong. I don't want to hurt Potter."
Potter looked at Draco, looking very surprised by that statement.
Blaise blinked. "And how is this not hurting Potter?"
"Well, he wants this too!" Draco exclaimed, but Potter shook his head quickly.
"Er ... Draco, I don't think ..."
"Yes, please, don't think, just leave. Potter is just a bit overwhelmed," Draco said convincingly, but Potter shook his head again.
"Um ..." Blaise looked a bit scared now. "Draco," he said slowly as though Draco was mental, "why would you think that Potter wants this? And what is this exactly?"
Draco sighed. Apparently, he just wouldn't be rid of Blaise if he didn't explain. Though that would be embarrassing, Draco saw no alternative. "The other day I saw Potter jerking off and yelling out my name at the same time."
Potter, the bastard, shook his head frantically.
"Stop shaking your head!" Draco snapped. "What's your problem? I saw you. I heard you! Do you want to see the memory?" Draco pointed the wand at his head.
Potter shook his head, staring at Draco, perplexed.
Blaise cleared his throat. "Er ... and where did you see it?"
"What?" Draco asked, bewildered. "What does it matter?" But Blaise kept staring at him, and Draco relented. "The Room of Requirement."
Potter never even stopped shaking his head.
Blaise closed his eyes and gave Draco a pitying look. "You idiot. Did you think about Potter when you went there? Did you go there to have a wank?"
"What? No!" Draco said, scandalized, but something horrible was clawing on his insides. Potter's shaking head was suddenly painful to watch, and Draco couldn't breathe. "Maybe," he managed to say slowly. He was starting to feel dizzy.
"You idiot!" Blaise raged. "It's the Room of Requirement! It gave you what you wanted! It gives you whatever you want! Draco, it wasn't real. It wasn't Potter, look at him!"
Draco was going to faint. He was sure about that. This just couldn't be happening. Draco didn't just ... Oh Merlin!
Draco dragged his gaze to Potter's bewildered eyes.
Oh, Merlin! Potter didn't even ...
And Draco just confessed ...
"I'll Obliviate him," Draco said dazedly, already lifting his wand. Potter began to trash wildly.
"NO!" Blaise yelled. "Are you completely insane? You never did a Memory Charm. You will mess up his brain! Somebody will find out and then you will go to Azkaban."
"Blaise, I ... kidnapped Harry Potter! I'm already going to Azkaban!" Draco said, panicking.
"Look, just talk to him or something. If you mess up his brain, you can say goodbye to your life. Maybe he'll —" Blaise looked at the glaring Potter, "— forgive you."
Draco was desperately trying to breathe. "Forgive me?"
"Yeah, just apologize," Blaise said, moving towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked quickly.
Blaise snorted. "To get an alibi. I'm not a part of this," he said and walked out, slamming the door.
Leaving Draco alone ... with Potter.
This was ... bad.
Draco looked at Potter carefully. Potter's glare promised vengeance. Maybe Draco should apologize. He gulped and summoned all of his courage. It was time for honesty.
Potter's green gaze burned like fire.
"I'm sorry," Draco said heavily. Potter remained unmoved.
Draco sighed dejectedly. "Fine, okay. I was wrong. I made a mistake. This is just a misunderstanding!"
Potter's eyes narrowed and he glared.
Damn, damn, damn. Draco rubbed his eyes. "I ... I went to the Room of Requirement, and you were there, and you were naked and you were wanking and screaming my name and ..." Draco's voice hitched. "I didn't know the Room could do that. It looked so ... real." Just a little too perfect, Draco thought miserably. "I thought you wanted me ..." he said quietly, wretchedly. "Like I want you," he finished, sniffing. Merlin, this was pathetic. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I would never ... do this if I didn't think you ... I'm sorry."
Draco looked at Potter cautiously. The bastard was still glaring. Damn it! That was a good apology! And an honest one. What more did Potter want?
Maybe he wanted to be untied. Right. That sounded very ... hazardous. But what choice did Draco have?
He gulped and took out his wand, pointing it at Potter.
Potter's eyes widened and he looked truly afraid, almost pleading.
"Relashio," Draco murmured and quickly shut his eyes.
Potter still had a wand, Draco never took it from him, and now, of course, he would curse Draco into jelly. Not that Draco minded that much. This moment was without a doubt the most embarrassing in his entire life, so really, nothing could be worse. But Potter would probably do something nasty, like maybe slash him open with that horrible Sectumsempra curse, and Draco just wished he would hurry up.
Blood was pounding in Draco's ears as he waited, and waited, and ...
Not able to take the suspense anymore, he opened his eyes.
Potter was gone.
The world didn't stop existing, much to Draco's surprise. Everything went back to how it was.
It was a small mercy that, apparently, Potter didn't breathe a word about Draco's ... error to anyone. Far more surprising was that Blaise kept quiet too, though he took to giving Draco strange, pitying looks. Now, that was annoying. Draco didn't need anyone's pity. He pitied himself quite enough, thank you very much.
Seeing Potter all over the place was pure agony. Potter never even acknowledged his presence, and Draco couldn't decide if that was preferable to the open displays of hatred that Draco expected.
Now Potter knew how Draco felt, and Draco wasn't even allowed to lie to himself anymore. Yes, he wanted Potter. He wanted him so much the desire burned inside him like fire.
No, he couldn't tell how it began, but it was there, that wish for Potter to notice him, to kiss him, to ... It was there as long as Draco could remember. And, really, this couldn't be an unhappier ending.
Draco expected that the humiliation of having Potter find out like this, would out shadow every other feeling. But it didn't. The want for Potter was stronger, and now Draco knew that if there was ever the slightest chance that Potter would feel the same, it was ruined forever.
Potter not only hated him, but he probably thought he was a demented freak.
Day after day, Potter looked the other way when Draco was near. Not once did their gazes meet.
It was a month later that Draco saw Potter on his own. His bag had spilled and Potter's books flew everywhere. This time it really wasn't Draco's fault. Potter was just being clumsy as usually.
It was stupid, but Draco reacted before he could stop himself. He bent down and helped Potter gather his books. He didn't look at Potter, of course, but his hand touched Potter's accidentally and Draco pulled it away as though it was burned. Because it was. The place where their skin connected was tingling, and Draco decided that he was being incredibly pathetic.
Potter said, Thank you, very quietly and Draco lifted his head enough to see that Potter bit his lip and opened his mouth to say something else, but Draco didn't want to hear it, so he bit out, "Whatever, Potter," and ran away as fast as he could.
After that, he stopped following Potter with his gaze everywhere, and just sulked instead.
His friends must have noticed that something was wrong, and who knew, maybe they even guessed what. But Draco didn't care; everything seemed so pointless now.
A week after the fallen-bag-incident Draco stood in front of the mirror and washed his face. His eyes were red and puffy. Some strange allergic reaction, no doubt. It wasn't like Draco was crying. Please.
He went to bed, not saying goodnight to Blaise and pulled the curtains, charming them to prevent any noise from getting out. He was having some embarrassing dreams lately, involving Potter and dildos, and he would wake up screaming ... stuff.
Draco sighed and lay back, determined not to think about Potter.
That never worked.
His hands were hurting. Draco stretched and wriggled, but he couldn't even move them. How odd.
Suddenly he realised that he was tied down. His eyes snapped open and he gaped at the person who was straddling him in his own bed while Draco was firmly tied to the headboard.
There was an orange fire far above Draco's head, near the roof of the bed and Draco panicked for a moment until he realized that it was only there to cast soft light over him. Green eyes were staring at him, burning with something that Draco couldn't decipher, and Draco was suddenly afraid of that intense gaze.
"Potter?" he asked a bit fearfully. Potter was obviously here to murder him. Maybe he should scream for help? Except he put Silencing Charms on the curtains so obviously no one would hear him. Maybe someone would see the light.
Potter licked his lips and leaned in slowly, until his breath ghosted over Draco's face.
Potter would strangle him now. He just knew it.
"You are ..." Potter said in an odd low voice. "So ... annoying. And strange."
Draco was tongue-tied and he didn't know what to say to that.
Even though Potter was obviously going to kill him, Draco felt his cock twitch at Potter's proximity. Why, Potter was sitting right there, and if Draco would lift his hips just a little he could rub himself right along Potter's arse.
Potter looked ... odd. He was breathing shallowly, his lips were parted, and his eyes were blazing. Slowly, so slowly, Potter's hand moved beneath Draco's shirt, touching the soft skin of Draco's stomach. Draco nearly screamed.
What was going on?
Potter was caressing him, not moving his gaze from Draco's face.
Oh. So, Potter was going to molest him and then he was going to kill him. Well, that wasn't so bad.
Potter lifted his head a little and started to unbutton Draco's shirt. Draco didn't even dare to breathe.
His shirt fell open, and cool air hit Draco's chest. Potter moved his fingertips over Draco's pale torso in some fascinated exploration, drawing a harsh breath every time that Draco's muscles quivered beneath his touch, and that was ... amazing, that was worth dying for. And no, Draco was not exaggerating.
And then Potter looked at him and lowered his head, still holding Draco's gaze as he slowly stuck out his tongue and licked one of Draco's pink nipples.
Draco gasped and Potter seemed emboldened, and he closed his mouth around the pink flesh, sucking gently.
Oh well now. Draco couldn't even care about the embarrassing sounds he was making. Potter attacked his nipples in earnest, licking, and circling his tongue, flattening it over, now hard, oversensitive flesh, alternating between both of them, sucking harshly, and even moaning a little as he did so.
He licked and bit a wet trail downwards to Draco's navel, dipping his tongue there, and Draco was panting and writhing on the bed.
Potter moved away and Draco nearly cried out at the loss, but then Potter pulled at Draco's pyjama bottoms and his boxers, taking them off, leaving him completely naked. He dragged his fingers over Draco's thigh, but he was looking at Draco's cock, that was fully hard and aching, with a strange sort of fearful look.
Potter's eyes flickered towards Draco's bewildered gaze, and then, incredibly, he bent his head, and his tongue licked at the head of the cock carefully.
"Hm," was Potter's comment, and then he licked again, more firmly, with a much nicer mmm-sound.
Oh Merlin, don't let me black out, Draco thought desperately, as the world around him swayed and Potter arranged himself over Draco's legs and started lapping the pre-cum, placing his hands on Draco's hips.
It was just like that time in the stupid Room of Lies. Except, this wasn't some dildo, but Draco, and the feel of Potter's tongue and ... oh, mouth ... around him was incredible.
Draco was reduced to embarrassing whimpering, as Potter sucked his cock with the dedication of a porn star. It looked like Potter was enjoying this much more than the pink toy.
Except it wasn't really that expertly done like in the fantasy, not that Draco minded. Potter choked a bit and swallowed convulsively, taking in much more than he could handle and he obviously had some trouble breathing, but he didn't back down, and he didn't, thank Merlin, bite down, and Draco was in heaven ...
"Harry," he moaned, and he wished he hadn't because Potter stopped suddenly, releasing Draco's cock with a wet slurp and a pop, and looked up at him.
Potter licked his lips and crawled up along Draco's body to look in his eyes again.
"Yes?" Potter prompted and looked at Draco expectantly, and Draco realised that he should say something, that Potter was expecting something, but Draco didn't even know what was going on.
"What are you doing?" came out of Draco's mouth and Draco cursed his voice. Now, why did he ask that? It didn't matter what Potter was doing, it didn't. The only important thing was to make sure that Potter didn't stop.
Potter swallowed. "I don't know." He lowered his lips on Draco's neck, nibbling the skin there, his breath so hot that Draco felt like he was being branded. "I just can't stop ... thinking about you," Potter said breathlessly.
"Oh," Draco managed, still confused.
Potter lifted his head, his lips hovering above Draco's, his eyes so close that Draco could see specks of gold in them clearly in the faint light. "Do you really ... want me that much?" Potter quivered at his own words as though he thought that Draco would just randomly say no.
Draco couldn't tear his gaze from Potter's and he nodded, his mouth dry. "So much ..." he confessed honestly.
Potter smiled tentatively. "That day ... when you ... tied me up, you were so ... so ... cute."
"Pardon?" Draco asked disbelievingly, suddenly more alert. "Kill me now, Potter."
Potter grinned. "Well, at the time I thought you were demented, obviously, but looking back on it, you were ... sweet. The way you were ... kissing me ..." Potter bit his lip, still smiling. "The things you said ... the way you said them ... What was it?" Potter grinned wider. "I'll be so careful with you, you'll love it. Oh, and apparently, I'm tasty."
Green eyes twinkled at Draco and Draco was too fascinated with the warm look in Potter's eyes — directed at him! — to wince at his own words quoted back at him.
"You are tasty. And if you untie me I'll show you how careful I can be," Draco said rather boldly, but Potter blushed and shook his head.
"Forget it. This is punishment," Potter said firmly, moving away.
"No, wait, I was kidding! Come back!" Draco panicked.
Potter gave him that warm bewildered smile again and slowly started to undress himself.
He wasn't leaving.
Draco watched, wide-eyed as Potter took off his clothes. He was no Greek god from the Room of Requirement, but somehow he was even lovelier. There were muscles, but not as bulky; he wasn't tanned — his skin was pale and delicate looking, very lickable. His arse was still lovely and his cock was still perfect. It was true, and if anyone would say anything different, Draco would hex them!
Potter climbed back on the bed and straddled Draco's hips again. He blushed crimson as he took his wand and pointed it back there, murmuring the Lubrication charm.
Draco wasn't even trying to breathe anymore when he realised what Potter intended to do. Potter grabbed Draco's cock, directing it towards his entrance.
It cost Draco a lot of effort but he managed to gasp out, "What are you doing? You're not ready!" Idiot. He would hurt himself.
Potter blushed even more, and really, that was just cute. "Um ... it's fine ... I was ... um ... I'm ready."
Draco grinned and shook his head. "Kinky sod."
"Um ... I was just, thinking about you tonight and, well I did stuff, obviously and ... that wasn't enough, so I figured I should come here and get the real thing." Potter looked mortified, but Draco was delighted, because suddenly the illusion from the Room of Requirement wasn't just a wild impossibility, but almost a prediction of the future. Despite everything, Potter still ended up shoving things up his arse while thinking about Draco. "I never actually ... you know ... with a guy."
Draco took a deep breath.
"Or a girl," Potter added quietly.
Good grief. Harry Potter was a virgin. And a very delicate virgin, apparently. And he wanted Draco to ...
"Untie me," Draco said firmly.
Potter bit his lip nervously, but obeyed, and Draco sighed in relief as his hands were released. He sat up immediately, his arms wrapping around Potter's waist, holding him close.
Potter looked a bit sheepish, as though he expected that Draco would do something nasty now.
All that Draco wanted right now was to kiss him. So he did. He pressed his lips to Potter's, moving them slowly, enjoying in their warmth and softness, and then took Potter's bottom lip between his lips. Potter shuddered and hugged back, his hands burying themselves in Draco's hair, and his lips parting invitingly. Draco pushed his tongue inside immediately, licking inside Potter's mouth, tasting himself as well as the unique taste of Potter, which was something that, now that he knew it existed, he would never be able to live without. Potter responded eagerly, moaning in Draco's mouth, angling his head helpfully, allowing Draco to dominate the kiss.
But Draco needed more, so he ended the kiss with some regret and moved his hands towards Potter's arse. Potter tensed, but didn't say anything. Draco squeezed Potter's arse cheeks, kneading them firmly, making Potter's breath hitch. Potter bucked, curving his spine, his nipples standing out on display, as though begging Draco to lick them, which of course Draco did immediately, grazing his teeth over them, making Potter whimper and moan encouragingly. Draco moved his mouth away regretfully, placing a final kiss in the middle of Potter's chest and then he slowly moved his fingers lower, pushing inside Potter.
Potter gasped, but managed to say, "I told you, it's fine ..."
Draco's fingers slid inside easily, and he pulled them out, satisfied. "You also told me you are a virgin, Potter, so excuse me if I don't believe your assessment."
Potter gave him a half-glare, but then took a sharp breath, as Draco took his cock in his hand and placed the head at Potter's entrance.
"Lift up a little," Draco said and Potter obeyed. "Don't worry," Draco murmured and kissed Potter's temple, and when Potter lowered himself on Draco's cock, it really did seem effortless. Potter was clearly relaxed, which meant that he, Potter, trusted Draco, of all people, not to hurt him. And that knowledge was almost as good as being inside Potter. Almost. Because really, being surrounded with Potter's warmth was just ... divine.
Potter gasped and blinked a couple of times.
"All right?" Draco breathed out with difficulty. His whole body was shaking.
Potter shook his head. "No."
Draco had no time to feel worried because suddenly Potter pushed him and Draco fell on his back. Potter stopped himself from falling completely on Draco, by placing his hands on Draco's shoulders.
"Better," Potter managed, and started to move.
And Draco was lost. Potter was above him, looking at him, while he impaled himself on Draco's cock. His movements were jerky and inexpert, and his position was somewhat awkward, but he was very enthusiastic. Draco grabbed Potter's hips, steadying him, guiding him, helping him find a rhythm, as he flattened his feet on the bed, lifting his hips to thrust inside Potter, angling for his prostate. Potter was looking at him with wide-eyes, his gaze burning, and Draco couldn't look away. Those fourteen and a half times never felt so ... intimate — this was almost too much.
Potter was gasping, his breath hitching with every thrust, and Draco remembered to grab Potter's hot cock to stroke it jerkily. Amazingly, Potter was still looking at him, right until his eyes rolled back and he screamed Draco's name and came, hot liquid splashing over Draco's stomach. Draco grabbed Potter's hips more firmly and thrust upwards a couple of more times, emptying himself inside Potter with a choking gasp while Potter's inner muscles clenched around him, prolonging his pleasure.
It took a while for them to get their wits together and Draco pulled out carefully, and Potter cleaned the mess they made with his wand.
Draco had no wish to cuddle, of course, but Potter was such a girl, that Draco had no choice. So he pressed Potter firmly on the pillow, and kissed his pliant mouth thoroughly, sliding his tongue along Potter's forcefully, with last remembrance of his strength, until Potter whimpered in need for air and Draco pulled away to enjoy in Potter's dazed look.
Potter looked so well-fucked — his dark hair even messier than usual, his lips puffy and cheeks red — that Draco felt like he should definitely, well, fuck him again. Like right now. But Potter was blinking heavily, and considering that this was his first time, Draco should probably just let him sleep. Bloody virgins, Draco thought fondly. He pulled Potter's head in the crook of his neck, and it fit really nicely there. Actually, Potter just fit nicely by Draco's side, and Draco wasn't romanticizing or anything, just stating facts.
"So, is this ... real?" Draco asked tentatively, but then realised that Potter was sound asleep. He sighed worriedly and kissed the top of Potter's head, drifting off as well.
This time he was ready. You thought he fell for that again, didn't you? Well, he didn't. It was obvious. He would open his eyes and Potter wouldn't be there. Last night was a dream. Draco knew that.
He opened his eyes and looked around.
He knew, he did! This didn't affect him at all!
Of course, Potter wasn't here. That was fine. You know why? Because Draco had a plan.
It was a good, solid plan.
He would walk into the Great Hall, and he wouldn't even look at Potter. Not now, not ever. And eventually he would simply get over it. And marry a girl one day. Perhaps the little Greengrass girl. She was ... cute. And a pureblood. And she had dark messy hair, but that was beside the point.
So, Draco did just that. Not the marrying part, just the walking into the Great Hall without looking at Potter part. He sat next to Blaise quite calmly and poured himself some pumpkin juice.
The table was oddly quiet.
In fact, the entire Hall was quiet.
Was he deaf?
He looked at Blaise to make him talk and test that theory, but Blaise was gaping somewhere above Draco. In fact, the whole table was gaping somewhere above Draco.
Was everyone insane?
"Potter?" Blaise said suddenly, and it took Draco a bit to recover from shock and reach a sensible conclusion. He turned slowly to see Potter standing next to him.
Draco blinked and thought about running. Maybe Potter was really here now to murder him. But Potter bent a little and reached down to take Draco's hand in his.
"Come sit with me," he said and it sounded like a plea.
Huh. Well, that was odd. There was a thud in the background, and Draco thought that maybe Pansy fainted. Or maybe that was Blaise.
Potter bit his lip and waited patiently.
Really, what could Draco do? Potter's hand was warm and Draco didn't want to let it go, so when Potter pulled it gently, Draco stood up and walked with Potter to the Gryffindor table. A Hufflepuff girl gasped dramatically, and Draco couldn't blame her. They were holding hands, after all. It was probably bizarre. It felt bizarre, but then Potter gave him a brilliant smile, and Draco just didn't care about anything else.
They sat down, and Granger said, "Would you like some pumpkin juice?" very politely, and Draco must have nodded, because Weaslette actually poured it in a glass for him. Weasley grimaced at him, and it could've been a grimace of disgust or a smile, really, it was hard to tell. But that was it, the noise in the Hall increased slowly, and everyone diverted their gazes from him.
Well, everyone except Harry.
Harry leaned closer and said quietly, "Sorry. I've put you in the spot, didn't I?" He didn't look sorry, Draco thought. But that didn't matter.
"Were you in my room last night?" Draco asked worriedly.
Potter cocked his head and smiled widely, shaking his head. "I stand by what I said — you're cute."
Draco was upset, of course he was. No one could call him cute and live. So, really, he couldn't decipher why he was grinning back at Potter like an idiot. Potter leaned in suddenly and kissed Draco lightly on the lips, right there in front of everyone ... and the world didn't stop.
But of course, all of Draco's plans about marrying a pureblood girl were ruined.
By Potter, of course.
That wasn't that bad, after all. Potter thwarting his plans. In fact, Draco was quite certain that he could get used to it.