J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter
A few warnings before I forget: there's MPreg, Smut (but this is not a PWP, there is a plot)... I think that's all. So if you're still interested... enjoy!
Some Things Just Happen_ Chapter 1,
The invitation hadn't been lying.
Harry looked around at the other occupants of the club who were, jut like him, sporting mask on their faces that completely hid their faces. The purpose of the mask, sent to each invitee individually, were to obscure everything about the wearer. Nothing about them was obvious, except for their hair and, of course, for their gender.
This was a gay wizards club, after all.
This was an exclusive party being held by the owner of this new club, Masquerade, as a form of promotion. The invites had only been sent to those who held the highest place in society so there was no need to worry about discretion.
This was exactly what Harry needed. Especially since the Prophet had forced him out of the closet last week and his life had become more hectic than ever.
Hermione and Ron had tried to be as helpful as possible… But Ron had began acting weird since the outing and Hermione had switched from trying to hook him up with various women to trying to hook him up with various men. Needless to say, both ventures had not turned out well.
All of the hookups, man or woman, had been stiff-shirts.
Harry didn't need someone so conservative. No, what Harry needed was someone wild and fun and Hermione just could not seem to understand that.
Hence the reason Harry was here: to get wild.
He was making his way towards the bar when he was accosted by a bulky brunette with a red mask that hid the upper half of his face but revealed his grotesquely bloated lips.
"Hey baby." The smell of Firewhiskey choked Harry's lungs as the masked man stepped uncomfortably close to Harry. "How about giving me a piece of that arse?"
Utilizing his old Quidditch reflexes, Harry side-stepped the man and continued his journey towards the bar, responding over his shoulder, "Sorry, I don't bottom."
The man obviously couldn't take a hint because he suddenly grabbed Harry's wrist and steered him back around to face him. "You will for me." The man snarled.
Harry struggled in the man's grip but the man held on tight, he was obviously a lot stronger than Harry had originally predicted. Then, when Harry was really beginning to panic, someone came behind Harry and wrapped their hand around Harry's middle. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw that the new arrival was a blonde, about two or three inches shorter than Harry, sporting a green mask that also covered only the upper half of his face but revealed plump pink lips. Lips that were tight with anger.
"Fuck off," The blonde threatened, his voice a low growl, "he's mine." His lips were close to Harry's ears, the moisture that accompanied his words making Harry tingle deliciously.
Unbothered, the man advanced on them but stopped when the blonde man's wand slid past Harry and prodded the front of the brunette's trousers.
"I suggest you disappear if you want to keep your bits." Blondie chuckled darkly. Finally, the brunette took the hint and scurried away.
Harry turned to face his rescuer but his thanks were cut off as the blonde lifted the end of Harry's mask past his lips then engaged him in a smoldering kiss. Without breaking the kiss, his stranger pulled him with him. They were close to the bathroom when he was finally set free.
"I wasn't lying," Blondie panted, his breath hot against Harry's lips, "you are mine." Then he pulled Harry inside.
He pushed Harry against the wall and slid his hands around Harry's neck, initiating another kiss. Harry wanted to protest, he really did, but it was hard enough to concentrate when there was an obviously experienced hand down his pants, never mind talk.
The stranger ripped past the resistance Harry's shirt held, exposing Harry's chest. Harry barely had time to let out a surprised gasp before Blondie sunk his teeth into the expanse of skin between Harry's nipples, not enough to hurt but enough for Harry to really feel it.
"Uhhh," the moan came from the blonde head now sucking a trail down Harry's torso. Blondie's lips touched Harry's belt buckle and, using his teeth, he tore the belt from it's loopholes, causing Harry's trousers to slide down to his knees.
Harry watched in amazement as his cock was quickly freed and, just as fast, entrapped in the warm cavern of the blondes mouth. The blonde's moan of pleasure vibrated against Harry's cock.
Harry's whole body shuddered in appreciation.
Blondie released Harry's cock and nuzzled against it, kissing a path down to his balls. The blonde moved one of his hands where it was previously balanced against Harry's thigh and stuck two fingers into his mouth, moistening them, then reached them behind himself. Harry had no trouble guessing what those fingers were doing.
The blonde glanced up at him, looking up at him through thick lashes. "I want this in me," he decreed, then squeezed Harry's cock just in case he missed the point.
Yeah, Harry got the point. How could he not when the blonde rose seconds later, turned away from Harry, slid his pants off and thrust his arse out towards Harry.
Harry, swallowed. It was the sexiest "Fuck Me" pose Harry had ever seen. Needing no more invitation, Harry slid the blondes legs away from each other to allow for space, then thrust in, not giving the blonde nearly enough time to adapt to the intrusion.
"Merlin, your tight." Harry gasped. It took all of his control not to continue pushing past the resistance, lest he hurt the blonde.
"Its been a while," the blonde grunted then shifted his hips, allowing Harry to sink in. "Ahhh," Blondie's scream rang out through the bathroom as Harry pounded his sweet spot over and over again.
It felt good, Merlin, it felt good, but Harry wanted more. He spun the blond around and hoisted him up, wrapping his legs around Harry's middle. Taking the hint, the blonde wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulder then lifted himself until he had almost released Harry before sinking back in. They continued this pace, increasing the rhythm on everyone of the blonde's descent, each becoming more delirious with pleasure.
When Harry's orgasm came, it came violently, wracking through his body faster and forcefully then the Express. He felt each spurt of his cum release into the cavern of the blonde's hole and the answering spurt of the blonde's orgasm coating his stomach, his chest, and even one hitting his chin.
They stayed as they were for a few minutes, catching their breaths, then the blonde lifted himself off Harry a final time and planted his feet on the ground. Harry noticed that he was a little wobbly on his feet.
"Well," the blonde said, not looking at Harry as he retrieved his pants and slid them back on, "thanks for the fuck." Then he maneuvered past Harry and reached for the stalls door handle.
The only thought that passed Harry's mind as he covered the blonde's hand, stopping him from leaving, was that he couldn't just let this, whatever it was, end, not like this. "How about we continue this at my flat?"
He saw the blonde's shoulder tense for a second, and waited with bated breath. Then the blonde shrugged, releasing his tension and turned to Harry with a wicked smirk. "Lead the way."
The morning after, it was Harry that woke up first, receiving the biggest shock of his life. "Malfoy?"
The shriek woke Malfoy up, shaking the rest of the mask off his face. Malfoy took a second to look around himself then, finally recognizing his surroundings, cursed, "Bugger."
"Bugger? That's all you can say?" Harry continued to rage, "What the hell are you doing in my flat?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes then calmly deadpanned, "If I remember correctly, you invited me."
Harry shook with anger, "GET OUT!"
He shoved Malfoy off the bed then out of the bedroom, throwing his discarded clothing at him then slamming the door in face. He shouted through the door, "You have one minute to get the hell out of my home before I call the Aurors!"
A pop on the opposite side of the door signified Malfoy's departure.
Harry slumped onto his couch, feeling irritated. He had been irritated for three weeks now. It had been three weeks since the "Club Incident", as he had christened it. He tried not to acknowledge the correlation.
He got more comfortable on the couch and began to feel the first wisp of sleep envelope him. As was usual for his near sleep state, his mental defenses began to crumble and images that he had been trying to squash for three weeks snuck up on him.
The blonde facing the wall, his pose just asking, begging for Harry to take him. The blonde. Draco fuckin' Malfoy.
The thought snatched him out of the fantasy and finally noticed that his doorbell was ringing.
He hopped off the couch, relieved for a distraction.
He opened the door and found an elderly women looking primped in her woman's suit, holding the hand of a little boy (probably five years old, Harry guessed) with out-of-control black hair and luminous green eyes.
"Hello Mr. Potter." The woman smiled kindly, the kind of smile one smiled before imposing disturbing news on someone, "my name is Cynthia Gold."
"Hello Ms. Gold." Harry answered nervously, although why he was nervous, he didn't know.
"And this," she indicated the little boy who was now hiding behind her leg, "is your son Henry."
Hah, that was a big surprise at the end, wasn't it? Stay tuned, it gets better!