So, I wrote a ficlet to go with this fanart a while ago and kinda went overboard with the idea of writing a sequel to it (which is basically porn, no shit) so here, have some porny words to match this new art here :)
Special thanks to @the-cellar-spiral for the beta <3</p>
“Maybe he got sunburned.”
“Only on his cheeks? Sorry Luna, that doesn’t make much sense.”
“The tip of his ears are pink too, Gin.”
“I bet someone gave him a potion of sorts.”
“To make him what? Blush? That’s an even worse theory, Ron.”
“Or maybe he’s just embarrassed about something.”
Hermione’s voice was like an alarm inside his head.Harry blinked, quickly fixing his eyes on his plate again. He didn’t miss the way Ron suddenly changed the subject at that, bringing everyone’s attention to a much safer topic. Quidditch practice.
Not that Hermione would take part in that. Harry knew exactly where she was looking.
“Will you stop?” he whispered.
“What, so you’re the only one who can look?”
Harry felt his own cheeks heat up immediately, not daring to meet the girl’s eyes. Merlin, he couldn’t even deny that. He’d been looking, or staring would be a better word. And maybe the fact that him staring was the cause of Malfoy’s permanent flushed cheeks (and ears, apparently) made him feel pleasantly dizzy and not at all willing to stop whatever it was he was doing.
After all, Harry had to make Malfoy look at him.
He finally looked up, startled.
“You faced your own death” Hermione had that disappointed look Harry was already used to seeing directed at him.
“And still, you can’t face a crush?”
Harry grunted, desperate to hide his face in his hands but knowing it’d attract the other’s attention.
Harry had to force himself not to smile. She sounded so much like Mrs. Weasley it should be worrying.
“Hermione Granger.” he mumbled, feeling like an utter idiot.
“And who are you?” She rolled her eyes, but he could see the hint of a smirk on her lips.
“Harry Potter.” he mocked, still blushing.
“And he’s Draco Malfoy, your weird crush who’s been waiting for you to talk to him for two weeks now. How long until he loses his patience, you think?”
Words got lost in his throat, but Hermione was already grabbing her things to leave.
“I heard him telling Parkinson he forgot his Potions book back at his dorm” She raised her brows, meaningfully, before turning on her heels. “See you at class, Harry”
It wasn’t hard to spot the light blond head among the other students. Still, Harry did his best to keep a safe distance without losing track of him. He didn’t want Malfoy to notice him yet so he waited until the portrait closed behind him before muttering the password.
It was empty, as expected that time of day. Classes would be starting in ten minutes so he expected Malfoy to be in a rush, which could be a brilliant excuse to run away if their conversation didn’t go as planned. Not that Harry had even planned anything.
“So you’re following me now too?”
He came to a halt, cursing inside his head.
“What, you think I wouldn’t notice? Like I didn’t notice the way you keep burning holes in the back of my head with your eyes?”
He should have planned something, at least a dignified retort. Harry had nothing, except his own blushing cheeks which he couldn’t tell were from embarrassment or anger. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to have a lot to say.
“You think you’re so good, don’t you? That I’d be waiting for… whatever it was you promised.”
His cheeks were bright red, the skin tinged all do way down to his neck, or at least that was as far as Harry could see. Malfoy spoke through his teeth, taking small, unconscious steps towards him, his hands turned into trembling fists beside him.
“Well, guess what? Fuck you, you arrogant, useless-”
Harry really had no sense of self preservation. Hermione was right, he really was weird. Anyone who were shout at like that, insulted with the most venomous and sharp words, would on the best of cases turn away and leave and, on the Gryffindor cases, punch that filthy mouth.
Harry was kissing that filthy mouth. With a lot of anger involved, obviously.
It took Malfoy a couple of seconds to react, luckily choosing not to punch Harry and, instead, to kiss him as fervently. They were still in the middle of the empty common room, the stairs to the boys’ dorms less than a few feet away from them.
Harry couldn’t think, the warmth of Malfoy’s mouth deliriously knocking him out. His hands ended up on blond strands of hair, as soft as he’d always imagined them to be. He threaded his fingers there, deepening the kiss, opening his lips so his tongue could brush Malfoy’s.
He groaned, sinking his nails on Harry’s hipbones and pulling him closer until they were flush against each other. And then they suddenly parted.
“Awful timing.” Malfoy whispered and Harry felt the words as they were spoken, Malfoy’s lips almost touching his.
“Will you stop complaining?” Harry tried to lean forward but a hand gripping at his hair pulled him back, forcing his eyes to meet Draco’s. He really should be pissed but the sweet pain on his scalp was more exciting than anything else.
“That’s what I’m good at.” His hand kept Harry in place as he leaned slightly down, kissing Harry slowly this time and backing away again, too soon.
“And lap dances.” The words escaped Harry’s mouth without a second thought. Malfoy’s eyes widened as his cheeks got a shade darker but he didn’t let go of him.
“Two weeks? You’re an idiot.”
He felt like an idiot but having two people tell him that in less than an hour was already enough. He pushed a lose blond strand away from Draco’s forehead, meeting his eyes. They were storm blue, surprisingly calm for someone who always seemed on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Harry could almost see the lust there when they darted to his mouth and back up to meet his eyes.
“So,” Malfoy breathed hotly.
Harry sighed, licking his lips as he still couldn’t get his mouth close enough to Draco’s.
“Is this some sort of punishment?”
The bastard laughed, leaning closer again and taking Harry’s bottom lip in-between his teeth.
And at that, he took a step back, never breaking eye contact. His feet moved on their own towards the stairs and Harry followed like a magnet. They reached it, taking one step at a time, the distance between them shortening until they were upstairs, Slytherin and Gryffindor dorms on opposite sides of the corridor and their chests inches apart.
It was a narrow corridor but that was just an excuse for Harry to press Malfoy against one of the walls and capture his mouth on his again.
Harry was the one to laugh this time, earning a cold stare.
“Why did you come upstairs, then?” He kissed him again, quickly, and Malfoy’s frown only deepened despite his pink cheeks.
“My book.” He pushed Harry away lightly, clearly trying to hide his contentment behind a sneer. “So unless you want something from me, Potter, would you please get the fucking out of my way”
Malfoy marched towards his door, and Harry just leaned against his, opening it with a snap of his fingers. It caught Malfoy’s attention and he couldn’t help but blush at how cocky he must have looked. But they seemed to have gotten into a twisted game of role playing and Harry wouldn’t let it end there.
“I’m sure you can find someone else to help-”
Silence weighed around them. Harry wondered if he’d gone too far.
Malfoy’s mouth was open, his eyes wide and his breathing had quickened considerably. Even so, the only thing Harry wondered was how someone could blush that much. He saw Malfoy’s Adam apple go up and down when he swallowed dryly before his voice came out hoarse.
The Slytherin dorms were now forgotten as Malfoy hesitantly walked towards Harry, eyes fixed on his like he expected the whole scene to vanish if he as much as blinked. Harry could feel it building up around them, the fragile tension that could either push them apart forever or make them collapse against one another. And Harry’s next words would define that, he realized, because that was how Malfoy worked. He needed someone to give him permission to take control.
Before Harry knew it, they were both inside the Gryffindor dorms, door clicking shut behind Draco’s back.
“I want it,” Harry heard himself, his voice too different to his own ears.
The burgundy curtains were shut, late morning sunrays hardly penetrating the thick fabric which gave the whole room a dark, reddish appearance. Forbidden was the word Harry would have chosen to describe how it felt to be there that time of day in such company. And with those intentions.
“Will you give me a lap dance?” He felt silly asking, but could see he was going the right way.
Carefully, Draco took a step forward. His hand found Harry’s, carefully pulling him closer without touching any other part of his body. Their fingers intertwined with ease.
“No,” Harry stepped back, pulling Malfoy with him until the back of his knees bumped his bed. He sat down, opening his legs so Malfoy could walk in between them. “No clothes.”
Malfoy waved his wand and even though Harry knew he could have done it much quicker, he watched as magic worked deliberately through each piece, unbuttoning Malfoy’s silk white shirt like an invisible hand before starting on his trousers. He clearly wanted Harry to watch and Harry knew it would be worth it.
He could tell Draco’s white marble skin was soft, even though marked. His body was subtly defined, a life replica of a sculpture created to please the eye and entice lust, all in perfect measure. Harry’s eyes recognized the scars his fingers hadn’t been able to trace that last time and many more he didn’t know even existed. On his thighs, knees, even his ankles. As soon as Malfoy’s shirt was removed from his shoulders and Harry reached out, though, his hand was repelled midair.
“I do remember saying ‘no touching’…”
It was magic that smoothly caressed Harry’s wrists and brought them to his side, thin blue ropes that vanished the moment Harry’s palms found the mattress. Malfoy gave another flick of his wand and there they were again, the ghostly strings unbuttoning Harry’s shirt this time and leaving him only in his boxers, exactly like Draco.
“Excited?” Draco bit his lower lip, eyes openly staring Harry down.
That bastard. It wasn’t like Harry could stop himself. He gasped the moment he gave himself a light squeeze, but too soon the magic ropes were there again, pulling his hand far away from his crotch.
“No touching yourself either, Potter”
Malfoy didn’t answer, his expression blank when he turned his back to him.
Harry should have been prepared for that, it wasn’t like it was his first time.
And still, none of it mattered. The feeling of Malfoy’s still covered ass brushing the length of his – still covered – very hard cock was enough to make Harry struggle to keep his hands at his sides. He knew most of it was due to the fact that he couldn’t touch, and it only made him want to do so even more.
The curve of his lower back was accentuated in an unbelievable way as he dropped his head and flexed his knees, thigh muscles contracted in a position that clearly demanded skill. Harry heard a sigh right before Draco threw his head back as his hands blindly searched for Harry’s thighs. He supported himself there as he lowered his body until that round ass was brushing against the tent that had formed in Harry’s underwear.
Harry could tell it was all a way of doing things slowly, inciting without promising anything beyond that. Harry knew he could have pretty much just sat down at once like he had two weeks ago, but no. It was different.
There were no people watching, no need for smirks and mockery. He wanted Harry to suffer in silence as he mastered the situation while allowing himself to enjoy it all without judgements. And Harry knew that if he judged him, in any case, the punishment would be severe. Maybe Draco would tie him to the bed with those thin ropes of magic and leave him there for hours, always keeping the mood, but never giving him a single touch.
Harry closed his eyes, controlling himself not to raise his hands.
Meanwhile, Draco’s ass moved back and forth, the pressure exerted on Harry ever increasing but never in a pace enough to get him close to climax. Draco didn’t seem to mind the sounds that were coming out of his mouth, moans so spontaneous that all Harry wanted at that moment was to be able to see the look on his face. The light in the room didn’t allow it, though, neither did the position they were in.
He had already said the worst, Harry thought, so nothing should worry him from now on, but his next words were weighed with uncertainty.
Draco’s breath got caught in his throat as his knees failed momentarily and he finally let himself sit on top of Harry. They both moaned, Harry’s hand clutching the sheets.
But Draco was leaning back until his shoulder blades met Harry’s chest. His ass seemed to be moving on its own, shamelessly grinding against Harry’s swollen cock while his hands massaged the sides of Harry’s thighs.
“…your face, Draco, let me-“
Harry placed a hand on Draco’s neck against his better judgement and for a moment he thought the strings would appear again but the hawthorn wand was forgotten beside him.
Still, Harry didn’t miss the way Draco flinched the moment their skin came in contact and Harry could feel the Slytherin’s heartbeat pumping underneath his fingertips.
Harry’s hand traced his collarbone, palm going lower and brushing a hard nipple.
The Sectumsempra scars were soft, vanishing just above the trail of thin hair that tickled Harry’s fingers.
He closed his eyes, a deep crease of concentration between his brows, never turning his face away.
Underneath him, Harry’s cock twitched, painfully hard. Just as much as Draco’s, from what Harry could tell.
Harry snapped his fingers again and suddenly there was nothing between them.
“Fuck- ah… ah- you exhibitionist-“
Draco’s eyes snapped open, the swaying of his hips coming to a stop.
Harry sensed fear in his voice, but his hands were already pushing Draco up and turning him around as he himself got up too.
They kissed, open mouthed, wet kisses that came with hungry hands. Harry didn’t stop until he felt Draco slowly give himself away again and, just then, he pushed him down on the bed, his whole body pressing Draco’s against the mattress as his mouth ravaged his neck.
When he turned them around again, making Draco was straddling his hips, Harry couldn’t help but smirk, triumphantly.
As soon as Draco realized what Harry had done, it was already too late.
“You… fucker… ah… you said-“
“I wanted you to- ah, Draco wait… to sit on my… ah, just- slow down!”
But Draco was already jerking himself off, desperately searching for more friction while still rubbing his arsehole against Harry’s own pulsing cock.
He didn’t even have to think before it happened.
Harry felt the rush of magic through his fingertips, the intensity of it pushing Draco’s frantic hand away. Harry saw his expression turning from one of fear to lust and then anger, that was, before Harry’s other hand reached behind him.
Draco moaned, eyes wide in shock.
“Did you just do a wandless… cleaning spell?!”
Draco looked torn between being impressed and slightly freaked out.
“And a protective one,” Harry tried not to blush, in vain, while smearing his fingers in conjured lube. He could explain himself later.
“Tell me your not- ah- ah… fuck, yes…”
He pulled Draco closer, kissing his way up his neck until his lips found the curve of his jaw.
“Do you still want this?” he whispered while his middle finger worked its way in and out of Draco.
“What do you think?” Draco hissed, painfully pulling at Harry’s hair and bringing their lips so close they were almost touching.
“I’m not telling you I want to ride you, Potter.”
Harry had two fingers inside now and was barely doing any work as Draco basically fucked himself on them.
“But do you?” He brought their foreheads together, closing his eyes so he couldn’t see Draco Malfoy completely wrecked on top of him. Harry could still feel him, though, and his cock throbbed with need.
It all happened too quickly.
The next second Harry was being pushed on his back, his fingers slipping out of Draco with ease while the other’s hand positioned his cock up.
Too much, all at once, Draco sank down and the room started spinning around them.
Harry didn’t know how long would he last, given the view he now had.
Draco rode him, sinfully swaying his hips while his nails scratched Harry’s thighs. He had his head lolling to one side, eyelids half closed in bliss and this time, Harry could see how the blush in his cheeks extended to his neck, his shoulders reaching the crimson color of his dark nipples and swollen cock, which smeared Harry’s abdomen with precome.
Draco was tight but it didn’t stop him from taking Harry in and then going all the way up until just the tip stayed inside. Merlin, Harry’s mind was short circuiting just from watching it, the way his skin shone with sweat and his hair fell on his eyes, the way the muscles contracted and relaxed and Draco’s breathing was interrupted by delicious sounds every time he got the right angle. Draco wasn’t even aware of his presence anymore and that was Harry’s opportunity to really look at him, without the sneers and snappy retorts, sharp words and stiff posture. No, this was Draco showing who he was, giving and receiving pleasure in a way Harry would have never imagined would be like of him.
Draco wasn’t just driving himself to climax, he was purposefully dragging Harry with him too.
And he could see it in the way Draco’s hands explored his chest, the way he met Harry’s eyes just before tightening around him just so he could hear Harry moan.
He breathed heavily, his thighs shaking every once in a while and Harry suddenly realized how hard it must be to ride someone like that.
“You’re brilliant,” The words escaped his mouth and for a moment Harry wasn’t sure if Draco had heard him. But then he was bending forward, catching Harry’s mouth on his and slipping his tongue inside. Harry bucked up, vigorously fucking Draco while feeling each sigh against his lips.
They rolled over, finally breaking the kiss.
“Let me-“ Draco tried to get on top again but Harry could see how exhausted he already was.
“No, like this.” He pressed their lips together again, slowly thrusting inside.
“I know you can,” Draco’s nails scratched Harry’s back, the back of his knees pressing at Harry’s hips and silently urging him to go deeper. “You’re the fucking best”
Draco groaned, his eyes showing Harry how close he already was. So when Harry whispered just one word in his right ear, thrusting his hips one last time, he got to see Draco’s face while he came, platinum hair sprawled on Gryffindor sheets and a look of utmost bliss on his face.
Harry flopped to the side, trying to even out his breathing and just letting his muscles relax. The sensation of exertion was similar to one of a post quidditch match, except now he’d rather cuddle with Malfoy than punch him.
“ ‘The fucking best’, huh?”
Maybe Harry could punch him too.
“Oh, shut up.” It wasn’t easy turning his head to the side but he had to look at him. “Draco.”
One word, whispered, and the blond was an instant mess against Harry’s sheets again. Harry laughed, dragging his body closer to Draco’s so he could trace random patterns with his fingertips on his skin. Despite his frown, Draco didn’t say anything, eyeing Harry curiously as his cheeks gradually returned to a normal shade.
“I wouldn’t be so full of myself if I were you,” Harry felt Draco’s lips turning into a wicked smile against his own “Harry.”
And truly, Harry was a fool for thinking he was immune to anything when it came to Malfoy.
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