Disclaimer: Why would you sue someone on a fanfiction site?
Warnings: Smut. Slash. Dub-con.
Synopsis: Draco needed to be taught his place.
Draco was secretly never a fan of Harry Potter.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't actually a secret, and he made sure it was clear on the basis of the two of them, and he knew it for certain that Harry shared his resentful feelings.
It became even more prominent when they began to bicker over the smallest things like being seated too near each other in class or sharing the same hallway. It's become such a daily thing that Hermione and Ron have stopped jumping into their fights, along with Crabb and Goyle. Six years of arguing seemed to exhaust everyone but Harry and Draco.
IT happened in the Prefect's Bathroom.
Draco had been adjusting his perfectly neat blond hair in the mirror one evening, in a generally better mood than usual. His day had gone most smoothly, as he had received high marks on his Potions exam and humiliated the Longbottom twit until he was laughed back to the Gryffindor Tower.
He felt all his satisfaction dissolve when the door opened, revealing a familiar green-eyed, dark-eyed boy.
"What are you doing here?" Draco spat at Harry's shock.
The door closed behind the dark haired boy as she stepped closer into the light. "Last I checked, the country was free, wouldn't you concur?" Harry said calmly, irking the silvery blond hard.
"I'm not leaving," he said stubbornly, "I was here first."
"What are you - eleven again?" Harry scowled, growing irritated as well.
Draco clenched his jaw. "Shut up, Potter."
To make up for his lack of a good comeback, he fished in his cloak pocket for his wand, but before his fingers could even reach it, he was faced with the point of Harry's wand.
Harry looked upset - his green eyes looking darker in the dim light. Draco swallowed tightly and pulled his empty hand out of his pocket.
"You're a handful," he told him crossly, and lowered his wand, "At least your father is far away from you in Azkaban now. One of it's many perks."
Draco felt his face grow warm in anger. "Don't you dare talk about my father, Potter, especially since you don't even have one yourself."
Harry scoffed, "Honestly, I'd rather not have one at all than to have a father that was nothing more than Voldemort's bitch -"
Before he could draw out the word for too long, Draco saw only red in his vision and swung his arm out, feeling satisfied but still intensely enraged with the sharp slapping sound that came from Harry's cheek. His own hand stung, so he could only imagine how it felt being on the other side.
His rage was not satisfied. He reached out again, but Harry had recovered within a second and before Draco could even capture what was happening, they were both on the carpeted floor in a blur of tangled limbs and harsh breathing.
He tried with all his strength to gain the upper hand, but Harry overpowered him easily. He pinned his wrists on either side of his head and moved quickly to straddle him, allowing him very limited movement if any at all.
Draco was expecting him to pay him back for the slap, but nothing came. He felt very warm with his anger, but also with the way he saw Harry was looking at him. The dark haired boy had a slight shadow cast over his features from the bad lantern lights, his hair creating a curtain for the side of his face. He had a serious look to his expression - his jaw set and squared as if upset, but Draco could see something different in his sinfully dark green eyes. Frustration tinged with… lust?
At the realization, the blond tried to struggle free, but he only earned an iron tightening around his wrists, sure to leave bruises on his snowy white skin.
"What are you doing, Potter?" Draco demanded a little weakly.
Harry blinked slowly. "I - I really don't know, Draco…"
"Let me go," he hissed, "I said, let me -"
Before he could finish, his words were silenced by a pair of lips capturing his own. He was so painfully shocked that he gasped into the kiss, allowing Harry to plunge his tongue past his lips. Draco couldn't do anything but let him ravish his mouth at first, his heart beating wildly in his chest as if looking for an escape. He blushed hard, but didn't want to give Harry the satisfaction and make him feel like he's conquered him.
He began to writhe beneath Harry, but the other boy had his body trapped well. It was after just a short while that in the midst of his light thrashing, he felt a rock-hard bulge from inside the tent that had formed in Harry's pants. His breathing grew ragged, undoubtedly feeling his own regions stir as a response.
Harry finally broke the kiss, panting for breath. "So I wasn't imagining it."
Draco couldn't even manage a growl to his voice. "What are you talking about?"
"The sexual tension," Harry told him, "You want it just as bad."
Getting scarlet in embarrassment, Draco uttered angrily, "Shut up. You're the one who's forcing yourself on me, Potter, so don't act like I was fantasizing over this moment for very long -"
"Oh, when I'm done with you, you'll wish you had," Harry growled lustfully. "And stop calling me Potter. My name is Harry."
"I'll call you whatever I want, Potter -"
Harry smirked, "I'm in charge here, got it?"
To add onto his suddenly self-satisfied demeanor, Harry delivered a sharp slap to Draco's thigh through his clothing. Draco still felt it, felt it well, and couldn't manage to muffle a groan.
"You're a masochist?" Harry asked, chuckling, "Surprise, surprise."
Draco was about to scoff something harsh at him, only to find that Harry had cupped him through his pants and his mean words dissolved in his throat. He hated feeling vulnerable under the dark haired boy's care and touch but something told him Harry wasn't going to show him much care soon anyway.
Harry replaced his hold on his willowy wrists before descending to his throat and neck, his teeth and tongue attacking his sensitive skin.
Draco fought down a moan that broke up into gasps and panting, and bit down on his lip as he felt his body react in an almost painfully aroused way. His body was shaking and so was his breathing as Harry continued to devour his throat.
He realized that the dark haired boy had focused on one part of his neck beside his throat, intent on sucking the life out of him. He started to squirm all over again when he realized what he was doing.
"Don't mark me," Draco cried, "Potter, stop."
Harry didn't stop, instead continued despite Draco's protests and struggling, and only pulled away when he felt that his artwork was done. He examined the silvery blond's hickey, content with himself.
"That hurt, you git," Draco glared angrily.
"It was supposed to." Harry felt him through the cloth again. "And by the looks of it, you liked that it hurt."
Before Draco could respond with cutting words, Harry slapped him on the thigh again in the same place as the first time, and he bit back a whimper that threatened to escape his throat.
"That's for the insult."
Fresh tears sprung to his eyes as his thigh stung with the slap like a burn, and he wiped them away impatiently with the sleeve of his cloak, hating how his member jumped as soon as Harry's hand connected to his leg.
He also hated how Harry's eyes softened. "Get on with it," Draco said hastily, "Hurry up."
Harry obliged without a problem, the lustful gaze back in his eyes. He pulled up Draco's cloak by sliding his hands along the length of his silky and shapely legs to his hips, causing shudders to run down both their spines. When Harry got his own hem out of the way, Draco's eyes widened. He was quite large down there for his age and he briefly wondered if it was going to fit inside of him but he found he was too aroused to care.
When he kissed him again, Draco felt Harry already prodding beside his entrance, and pinned his wrists to the floor once again, which the blond was beginning to think was a turn-on for him to be able to physically overpower him.
"Admit to me that you're mine," Harry said huskily into his ear.
"No," Draco replied immediately, lifting his hips slightly.
This small action seemed to drive the dark haired boy out of his mind, as his voice was lost for a good moment and was caught in a throaty groan.
Harry licked his lips and muttered, "Do it or you'll pay for it later."
Draco hissed, "I don't belong to you."
A hand disappeared from holding onto his wrist and Draco only felt it a second later, penetrating him. He gasped and arched his back a bit at the uncomfortable sensation, only to feel it worsen with a second finger.
The dull ache didn't lift after the small while that Harry let him get used to the feeling before adding a third finger and began stretching him out.
"It hurts," Draco said, his voice brought down to a whisper, "You're going too fast."
Apparently in intention to resolve the problem, Harry leaned down to kiss him firmly on the lips and used his other hand that was pinning his wrist down to stroke him. Suddenly, the fingers stretching him out didn't seem to hurt so much.
In addition, they even began to feel good. He bucked his hips slightly as his body filled with an intangible and immense pleasure. His now free hands came up to Harry's shoulders and he dug his blunt nails into the cloth of the other boy's robes. His body trembled now more than ever and he wished Harry could do something more, more pleasure… But he was not about to beg.
He thought Harry might have even wanted to make him beg for it, but the dark haired boy seemed more eager to get inside than he was.
"Another chance to admit you're mine," Harry murmured softly after he broke the kiss.
Draco swallowed thickly, his voice lost in desire. "It's not - It's not admitting it if it isn't true."
"It will be. Say it, give yourself to me."
His hissing tone was cut short when a blur of things happened. Harry had captured his lips again to silence his muffled scream as a horrible pain shot up his spine. The dark haired boy had slipped into him cleanly without a physical fuss, but now held very still as to not hurt him any more.
Harry pinned his arms over his head this time even though Draco was too scared to struggle or even move in case it would cause him more pain. He whimpered into the kiss, feeling hot tears cascade down his face but not being able to wipe them away this time.
The dark haired boy drew back and whispered in his ear, "It'll go away. The pain will fade, I promise."
Draco wanted to deck him for pitying him, but that urge was subdued when he felt small spasms of pleasure around Harry's member, and the shooting pain eventually lifted, only to be replaced with a white hot and searing sense of need.
The feelings surprised him as they came a bit suddenly and very heavily. His voice had disappeared again in his throat, and the only thing he could do to urge Harry on was lift his hips and push Harry deeper inside him, which caused heated groans to erupt from both of them.
Harry understood the notion and obliged, pulling himself out so that only the first inch of him remained inside, and slammed back in violently. Draco arched his back and allowed throaty moans to escape his lips, fighting to get his arms free and hold on to something because his vision was spinning so fast with heat and desire that he felt dizzy. Harry wouldn't release him, though, and instead thrusted his hips into him harder.
Draco's fingers were clawing at the air from their pinned state and he could only whimper repeatedly and groan at Harry's treatment. He could barely find room to breathe as he pounded into him mercilessly, grunting with strain above him.
Finally, in a disoriented wave of extreme pleasure, Draco released with a soft groan, feeling the harsh tension of his body melt away.
Harry had shut his eyes tightly, and Draco could tell he was giving it his all not to release right there and then. He opened his eyes and glared down at him.
"Say it," he demanded hoarsely.
Draco could now feel a dull pain that was starting to take place at Harry's thrusts now that his own pleasure was over. It felt like a scathing and unwelcome penetration that was building up in quantity.
"No," the silvery blond insisted, "I'm not yours."
Harry sighed harshly and grunted, giving one thrust extra strength. Draco writhed in pain, gasping and cringing as he felt his lower regions begin to stir again ever-so-slightly.
He looked up desperately at the dark haired boy. "Just come, I can't take it anymore."
With a short shake of his head, Harry mumbled, "You've got to say it. Say my first name, too, or I'll keep it up until you do."
Draco contemplated Harry's words, which was distracted by the growing pain caused by him. His pride told him to not give in and that he'd rather have shards of glass in his eyes than to say that he belonged to Harry, but he honestly just wanted the other boy to just release and be done with it.
With his pride hurting more than anything else, he couldn't hold it back any longer.
"I'm yours, okay?" Draco blurted out, "All yours, only yours, Harry."
Without further ado, Harry spilled his seed inside of him, a breath of relief coming the loudest from Draco. Appearing exhausted and weary, Harry pulled out of him, causing an empty feeling to evade the silvery blond.
Harry tiredly leaned over and cupped his chin, gliding his thumb over his soft cheek.
"You're so stubborn. But you're mine now, so remember that."