Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Auto-fellatio. Voyeurism. This is rather pornographic.
A/N: Thank you as always to coolbreeeze and OnTheTurningAway for making my porn pretty. And to whitewave320 for giving me some vidspiration. Title taken from Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up" which is totally about masturbation... see what I did there? ;)
"If you leave now, I'm not taking you back," Ginny huffed.
"Fine," Harry said with an exasperated sigh.
He ended the Muffliato he had cast to keep their conversation private. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him. Then he grabbed his bag and headed for the door of the Gryffindor common room, while Ginny occupied herself talking to her friends.
"Wait. Where are you going?"
"Goodbye, Ginny. It's better this way, you'll see."
He left to the sound of her screeching his name.
Harry trudged down the stairs from Gryffindor tower. It was still weird not to be staying there this year, but after spending the last year of his life in the woods and fighting a war, it would have been even more difficult to go back to being a regular student.
McGonagall, with the support of the Ministry, had re-opened Hogwarts that autumn to all the students who should have finished the previous year. The former seventh years were bumped up to a one time only eighth year category, and they were mostly doing independent studies and assisting the professors, so they could sit for their NEWTs.
Because they were all technically adults, the eighth year dorms were set up differently from the house dormitories. They were in the middle of the castle, but most remarkably, they were not separated by house. There was a girls wing and a boys wing separated by a common room and a small kitchen that was rarely used, but each student got a room all to themselves. It was a blatant effort to encourage "inter-house unity" and try to discourage the prejudices that had popped up during the war.
McGonagall had talked to Harry before Hogwarts opened, asking him to take on the responsibility of leading by example. If Harry Potter could get along with Slytherins, then everyone else would too. At first, Harry was reluctant to go out of his way to do so. It wasn't that he felt any lingering prejudice. He understood that the Death Eaters kept their children on their side through fear, and he mostly just felt sorry for the returning Slytherins. But he was still trying to work out all the complicated feelings he had toward Snape and knew he still had some misplaced anger. Plus, he was really just looking forward to hiding out in Hogwarts for a year as anonymously as he could while still being Harry Potter. But McGonagall assured him that the returning Slytherins had been given a similar instruction.
At first it was awkward, but gradually more similarities came forth and it turned out McGonagall was right. When all the eighth year students sat together for the sorting ceremony, the other students were shocked into silence, but after a few weeks, it did trickle down. Now it was a regular occurrence to see Slytherins sitting with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs with Gryffindors.
Harry sighed as he reached the portrait.
Harry wasn't particularly ready for a confrontation from Hermione or, even worse, Ron, so he took the coward's route and cast a disillusionment charm over himself after politely giving the password to Ethelred the Ever-Ready.
Sure enough, Hermione was sitting on one of the sofas with a book open on her lap, and Ron was sitting beside her scratching out something on his parchment. Dean and Neville were working on a potions project with Blaise Zabini of all people, and Seamus was snogging Susan Bones.
Harry tried not to breathe as he tiptoed across the common room.
"Think Ginny'll take him back?"
Harry stopped dead in his tracks at Ron's voice.
"Honestly, Ron," Hermione replied in a low voice. "Your powers of observation are dreadful sometimes."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not a matter of Ginny taking Harry back. Neither of them really want to be with each other. I just don't think Ginny has realized it yet."
"And Harry has?" Ron looked completely baffled.
"He's a lot different than he used to be. He wants something different than he used to."
Harry opened his mouth in shock. It was uncomfortable hearing his two best friends talk about him, but Hermione was exactly right. Harry almost laughed at his own surprise, of course Hermione was right.
"Why has he talked to you about this and not me?"
"He hasn't talked to me about it either. I can just tell. He'll talk to us when he's ready."
"Don't push it, Ronald."
"I just want him to find his Hermione."
Hermione's expression melted into full on moony. Harry rolled his eyes and continued to tiptoe through the common room.
Hermione was right, and he hoped Ginny would see it too. He thought everything would go back to normal after the war: he and Ginny would pick back up again, he would finish his NEWTs and go into Auror training, they'd get married and have a family. But now, everything seemed different. He was suddenly free from everything that had been chasing him for the last seven years, and when it came down to it, he didn't really know what he wanted.
He just hoped he didn't lose his friends in the process of figuring everything out.
Safely past the common room, Harry was about to turn into his room, maybe have a wank, and go to bed early, when he heard an odd noise coming from across the hall. The door to Draco Malfoy's room was cracked open. Later, Harry would have no explanation as to why he decided to peer into his room, but it was like a compulsion. He was already disillusioned, so he knew he wouldn't be seen, but he took extra care creeping silently toward the door.
Careful not to open the door any wider, he pressed himself up against the frame and looked through the narrow opening. What he saw made him gasp with a sharp intake of breath. He froze and held his breath, waiting to see if Draco had heard. After a minute, he figured he was safe and he looked back into the room.
There was Draco Malfoy, sitting in the middle of his bed, sucking his own cock.
Draco had always been flexible. When he was a child, he would order the house elves to play hide-and-seek with him. One time Wobby had ironed his hands for a solid hour because he couldn't find Draco where he had been hiding inside one of his mother's traveling trunks. When Wobby was finally allowed to use magic to retrieve Draco, he found him curled up tightly and asleep inside.
At the age of 8, he had worried both his parents after they had taken him to the traveling wizarding circus, and he declared he either wanted to be an acrobat or a contortionist when he grew up. Lucius managed to scare the idea out of him, but even as a young man, he still dreamed of it.
Of course, when Draco hit puberty and was horny all the time, it didn't take him long to get the idea in his head to use his flexibility in a more productive way.
It was difficult to get his hands on pornography at home, but his father gave him his own owl when he went off to Hogwarts, so he was able to order magazines by post. They would come charmed to appear like financial magazines, but inside they contained the fodder Draco was looking for.
There was never a question that Draco liked boys. He had no memory of being confused by his sexuality or having any inkling to experiment with girls. He would be expected to produce an heir, but surrogates were common among purebloods.
Draco's Slytherin housemates all knew, and although they had been a little uncomfortable at first, they relaxed when they realized Draco wasn't interested in ogling them or trying to convert them. Blaise was even a little insulted that Draco wasn't interested in him and took to parading around in his pants as much as possible.
Even though his friends accepted him, it had still been lonely at Hogwarts. He was the only boy he knew who liked boys, and he wasn't encouraged to look outside the dungeons for companionship. So, when everyone else was frotting around with the girls, Draco had to come up with alternative ways to come into his sexuality.
The adverts in the back of his magazines provided him a nice collection of toys. Draco was a bit of an arse slut, and was most satisfied when there was something filling him and rubbing against the sensitive places inside him. He ached to have another man inside him, curved over his back, deep and pulsing, filling his arse. Magic could make very realistic simulacra, but Draco knew that nothing would be able to replace the real thing.
But there was something else he wanted even more.
In the very first magazine he opened at the tender age of 13, there was a picture that was still emblazoned in his memory. A beautiful wizard with rich chocolate skin was lying naked on a bed, his legs spread wide open. Another well-muscled wizard, wearing nothing but the arm and shin guards from a Quidditch kit, knelt between the legs, his mouth sucking the other's cock deep into his mouth. The darker man was blissed out when he turned toward the camera and winked as he spurted his cum onto his stomach and the muscular man's face.
It was that image Draco was thinking of now, as he sprawled on his bed, completely naked.
He gave his dick a few strokes, making it hard.
Then he sat up and leaned forward, curving his back until he was close enough to feel his own warm breath on his cock. He darted his tongue out, swiping it across the tip. The bitter taste of precum invaded his mouth.
He pulled back and licked his lips before bending down again, and sucking the head of his dick into his mouth. He licked around it to get it wet so it would slide more easily between his lips. Rocking back and forth, he used the springiness of his mattress for momentum. He got a steady rhythm going, pushing his lips down and then pulling back up, not quite sucking hard enough to get him off, but enough make his cock strain in anticipation.
After enough teasing, he leaned forward as far as he could and tugged on his foreskin, gently pulling it with his teeth and stretching it up and over the head. He rolled back on the curve of his spine and forward again, regaining his rhythm and reveling in the friction of the soft skin against the sensitive place on the underside of his cock.
Then he tugged harder, sitting up slightly, bringing the skin with him. He wiggled his tongue underneath the foreskin, rolling it around inside and tickling the tip of his cock. He sucked and sucked, letting the edges of his teeth scrape against it gently.
A guttural noise that started deep in his throat escaped and reverberated through his body.
Draco was getting closer and closer. He grabbed his balls with his free hand, rolling them in his palm. His fingers wandered farther down, and Draco groaned around his cock while they pressed against his perineum.
He pulled his mouth back long enough to get two of his fingers wet, sucking and licking around them. Then he brought them down to tease his hole a little, running them around the puckered flesh lightly, making the sensitive nerves tingle in anticipation.
It was single-handedly the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen.
He was frozen in place, completely entranced. He bit his lip so hard he broke the skin, and the taste of blood filled his mouth as he watched Draco push two fingers into his hole while simultaneously descending once more on his cock.
There wasn't a choice. Either Harry was going to nut in his trousers, or he was going to be slightly more dignified and come in his hand.
He undid his zip carefully, so as not to make a noise, and reached into his pants. His cock was already hard and leaking, and he knew he wouldn't hold out much longer.
Images of all the things Draco's body could do if it could bend the way it was flashed through Harry's head. He thought of Draco lying on his back, bent in half with his feet thrown back above his head, getting fucked hard and deep.
Harry was only slightly startled when he realized that he was the man he pictured pushing into Draco's arse.
He gave in to the fantasy. He could see himself lying on his back with Draco grinding down on top of him, his back to Harry's front. He would ride Harry's cock and then bend backward, arching his back so much that he could bring his lips to Harry's neck.
Harry shivered and moved his hand faster and faster on his cock, imagining it was Draco clenching around him. He could almost feel the wet heat of Draco's mouth on his neck.
A muffled groan pulled Harry out of his daydream.
Draco was shaking and squirming on the bed.
Harry was completely enraptured as he watch Draco's orgasm unfold. The base of Draco's dick pulsed first as he came. Then he pulled back slightly, letting his cum spray across his face and into his open mouth.
He licked his lips obscenely, cleaning the cum off them while he milked the last drops from his cock.
Harry tightened his grip on his own dick, chasing completion, as Draco pulled his fingers from his arse and sucked them into his mouth.
Harry's orgasm rushed through him like a train.
He spurted into his hand, trying not to gasp out loud, before staggering into his room and slamming the door shut. It was only later when he realized that Draco must have heard it.
The next morning, Harry was heating water for tea in the kitchen. He had managed to get out of joining Ron and Hermione for breakfast in the Great Hall with the excuse that he wasn't feeling well. It wasn't completely a lie. What had happened the night before wouldn't leave his mind. Every time he blinked he could see Draco, with his back curved, sucking his dick into his mouth.
It left Harry both aroused and embarrassed, and he didn't know what any of it meant.
All he wanted was some time alone to think things over.
But a throat clearing behind him ruined that thought. He turned around and immediately flushed bright red.
Draco was standing in the kitchenette wearing only a pair of silk pajama pants that were slung dangerously low on his hips.
"So, Potter," Draco said with a smirk. "See something you like?"