Fic: Struck 7 (finally)
Dec. 27th, 2009 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyvaderLong, long ago in a galaxy so nearby we all live in it… I wrote a lil fic called Struck, posted chapters for awhile and then promptly NEVER DID SO AGAAAAIIIN lol but I’ve always wanted to remedy that, it’s just my chapter outline ran to 24 chapter which has been a bit daunting what with RL and all but I really, REALLY would like to finish this so please – read & enjoy.
Struck 1 thru 6
Title: Struck 7: Raw.
Author: LadyVader
Archive: Always ask the author first please.
Pairing/s: H/D.
Summary: Kiss & Make Up?
Rating: NC17 I guess... shocker, huh? ;)
Warnings: Bad Language, and SLASH! Flee li'l homophobes... Fleeeeeeeeeeee!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters from the Harry Potter books and films do not belong to me in any way and I'm making no money out of this shameless warping of their characters for my own amusement. Please don't sue me... I've got widdle cats to feed dammit!!!!! ;)
Dedication: As always, for Angel, my beta and bud extraordinaire
Extra Warning: UNBETAD!!!
Struck 7: Raw
Draco Malfoy clenched his fingers tightly on his knees and told himself for the fifteenth time that he was simply not going to vomit.
He’d consumed no less than 3 of his personal stash of healing and general upkeep potions and was feeling decidedly nauseous with each of them washing around and mingling in his guts… still, he’d reasoned as he swallowed each, better sick than tainted.
He’d had to take one potion to remove the livid bruise from his throat, watching each individual tooth mark vanish, gradually erasing Potter’s supposed ‘love bite’ from his skin. Then an anti-inflammation potion, to reduce his swollen lips and (more helpfully) to remove the puffy, reddened look from his eyes that stated for all the world to see that Harry Potter had crushed him under his heel yet again.
Last but not least came the calming potion – because, what good were his freshly renewed complexion and clear eyes if he simply could not stop crying?
It had always been one of his most frustrating faults (not that he many, of course) – never had he been able to lose his temper without indulging in a fit of raging tears the likes of which could rival Pansy when her chocolate frogs hopped away.
It was galling – not just to have had what he wanted in plain sight and not realised that it was slipping through his fingers ‘til it was gone, but to know that he had bared himself, in such a horribly open and intimate way to Potter of all people. It had seemed fun before – risky, wrong and so fantastically delicious that it had been all he could do to not just laugh, loud and long each time he thought of it… and now it was all he could do to not scream.
He’d dragged himself from the toilet stall somewhere around lunch, his legs shaking with each step towards the dungeons, his thigh muscles screaming as he dipped into his stash, collecting up the vials with a clink and a muffled whimper before making his way back towards the prefects bathroom.
Managing a somewhat satisfactory sneer as he barged his way through the hallways, he’d shuddered inwardly, picturing the humiliation creeping over his skin, his shame plastered to him like mud. As a child he’d often spent most of his time between scolding’s or sneers in the bathtub, the cradling liquid embrace more soothing than any proffered platitudes from his mother or Nanny Elf and, though time had changed his burdens, there was still nothing in his mind that could nurse a wounded soul like a hot, deep bath.
Keeping a watchful eye out for that damn, pervert ghost and pouring at least half his supply of purifying salts into the already scented, steaming tub, he’d all but ripped his clothes off, so determined was he to cleanse himself of Potter’s treachery.
Now, having been sat in the swirling waters with fresh tears of fury streaking down his face, he felt the dreadful realisation that perhaps a good, hot bath was not, in fact, the cure for everything.
“I don’t give a damn about bloody bastard Potter!” he muttered venomously into the steam, his fingers digging into his kneecaps below the waters surface in an effort to not repeatedly clench his poor aching knuckles into the fists they’d been locked in all afternoon. “I don’t!!”
“Talking to yourself Malfoy? Isn’t that the first sign of madness or would that just be the inbreeding?”
Draco stiffened, turning to sneer at the gangly ginger intruder with as much disgust as possible written across his face. “Hypocrite much, Weasley? When your family won’t even consider breeding with anyone who doesn’t have a ginger thatch, freckles and a nose longer than your list of unpaid bills?” He laughed with as much scorn as being naked would allow before turning pointedly away from the Gryffindor glaring at him. “Pathetic.” Draco muttered, unsure as to whether he meant the glowering russet monstrosity or himself.
Growling under his breath, the Gryffindor stalked forward shedding clothes haphazardly as he went, alarming Draco as it became clearer with every second that his privacy was at an end.
“Oi, Weasley! What do you think you’re doing? This place is taken, occupied – NOT FOR THE LIKES OF YOU! Now. Get. Out!”
With an abrupt and alarming wiggle, Ron stepped out of a rather festively orange pair of pants, displaying (to Draco’s extreme horror) a parchment pale rear end that jiggled as he stomped towards the marble tiled shower alcoves. “Fuck off, Malfoy.” He snapped, “I’ve as much right to be in this bloody poncey bathroom as you Ferret-features, now do us ‘both’ a favour and just shut up so I can shower, ok?” He ducked into the privacy of the shower area only to poke his head back through a nanosecond later, “And don’t give Harry any crap either, he’s been coming in here since fourth year so all that prefect shit’s just useless now, got it?”
Potter? Potter? Potter was coming?
Draco accidentally slipped off the smooth marble ledge that served as a seat for those not in the mood to be fully immersed in the scented depth of the tub, flailing briefly beneath the surface before his toes found purchase on the slippery wet bottom, emerging, pushing his hair back and away with frantic fingers, looking about for his towel – he could not be caught out, naked and wet and wounded and…
“Hullo Malfoy – taking a swim were we?”
Fuck.
Draco turned, casual yet dripping as much loathing as he was water, hoping his sudden dip had washed away all residual signs of his temper and hurt, casting scathing eyes to where Potter strolled forward now, hands deep in his pockets, a light of oddly malicious amusement lighting his face as he ‘accidentally’ kicked Draco’s towel from where it had been perched nearby the baths edge to the opposing wall by the window.
“Just rinsing off Scarface – not that I’d expect you to be familiar with the notions of hygiene but then, if even Weasley can be taught the basics then perhaps there might be hope for you yet.”
There. The Slytherin’s voice was steady, his tone simply dripping with disdain and his general attitude superior – all in all it wasn’t a bad effort, but still Draco could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and prickling behind his eyes. It was unfair, not only had the supposed boy wonder been an unfathomable bastard, but now he had the sheer nerve to show up when Draco was naked and vulnerable – it would be hysterical, Draco thought bitterly, were it happening to anyone but himself.
He eased himself back onto the ledge, careful to nudge his way into the biggest patch of bubbles so that he was surrounded by perfumed, green foam, shooting careful glances about the steam filled room as he looked, casually, for another towel with which to save his steadily plummeting dignity.
A beat passed. And then another and abruptly it occurred to Draco that the green eyed git had yet to make any response to his prior barb and, with stilled breath and clenched knuckles, he turned and slowly lifted his eyes to where the Gryffindor now stood, directly behind him, peering down into the water.
“Not seeing a lot of hope for you down there either, Malfoy – but then perhaps your nice girly bubbles there aren’t doing you any favours?”
Draco dragged yet more frothy, green protection over his lap, his face redder than the Gryffindor tie knotted loosely at Potter’s throat, Potter’s stupid smug face grinning oddly above it, as though this were some great game versus the worst and most humiliating day of Draco’s young life.
He snorted with as much scorn as he could muster given the strong urge to scream and cry and soundly beat the smile off Potter’s self-satisfied face. “Might want to get those pathetic spectacles of yours checked Potter – clearly they’re giving you an incorrect sense of proportion beyond your own fat head.”
Potter crouched then, sinking so suddenly so his head could tilt to place his mouth by Draco’s ear that he startled, nearly slipping from the edge once more, his fingers white on the marble surface below as he gripped it tightly, desperately trying to maintain his nonchalant façade.
“Wouldn’t say ‘fat’ exactly Malfoy, I mean, you managed to come to grips with it well enough earlier…” Potter ran one fingertip over the slick, slope of Draco’s stiffened shoulders, “Or had that slipped your mind?”
Draco trembled, mortification rising in him like lava, wishing to any god that would have him that he could slide under the water and stay there forever – the tide rising further when the Weasel’s voice abruptly rang through the tiled space.
“Oi – Harry?! You out there?”
With a minor click and the soft rustle of material, Harry pushed himself back fully upright. “Yeah Ron, I’m here!”
“Malfoy giving you shit?!”
“Not really!”
“Good! Drown him if he does – no one’ll miss him… probably thank you for it!”
Draco’s head bowed and he clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from knocking together, his fingers tight once again on his knees as he reflected briefly on the possibility that Potter might actually do it and put him out of his misery.
“Nah – it’s ok Ron – you just focus on getting shot of that Skunkweed residue so we can head out to meet Herm, k?”
Draco’s ears buzzed and burnt so that Weasley's inane response was lost to him as every nerve end in his body lifted and turned to quiver in Potter’s direction, his skin vibrating with awareness as the brunet crouched behind him once more.
“Do you think I should drown you? Just climb in and hold you under for awhile 'til the bubbles stop – hmm?” Potter’s tone, warm and teasing, did nothing to withhold Draco’s bone deep shudder, both visible then audible once it reached his teeth, his head jerking in quick negation as he contemplated leaping from the water and simply running for the door.
“Poor Draco…” the words were a whisper, surprisingly gentle fingers tucking a wet lock of hair behind his ear, the fingertips lingering over the sensitive whorl. “Have I been so dreadfully cruel to you today?”
Draco sniffled, unable to help the soft, wet snort or the tears burning again behind his tightly clenched lids as he nodded once, his chin practically resting on his collarbone with misery and the abrupt, absurd desire to crawl into Potter’s lap and be soothed.
“I’m sorry…” warm breath wafted the quiet apology over his temple and into his hair as Potter leant down further, his mouth touching briefly, here and there, skating down from the Slytherin’s hairline, to his cheek, to his jaw, to the frantic pulse beating erratically below.
“I needed to show you, needed you to see that I’m not a toy, not just some dumb Gryffindor you can play with at your whim – you understand? I didn’t really want to leave you like that, but Draco…” a sudden tight grip in his hair left Draco gasping, his head pulled up and round so that found himself gasping and blinking up into entirely too determined green eyes, “Draco, I will do it again, I will leave you broken and wanting and anything else I feel like if you try and force things. I am in control here – understand?”
Draco let slip a tiny sob, more of frustration than of anguish, angling his head up further, tipping his mouth towards Potter’s own stern, set lips, trembling and nodding even as he tried to push himself higher into Potter’s steady hands.
The Gryffindor’s expression hardened briefly, shaking Draco lightly by the tight clench he’d kept on his dripping hair. “You’re not helping yourself here.” He ground out, voice gruff even as the green melted away as his pupils dilated, head tipping down to press hot, hard kisses against Draco’s pliant lips, crushing the soft tissue back against his teeth with the ferocity of the sudden motion, growling as he nipped and sucked his way to Draco’s tongue.
“You’re not fucking paying attention Malfoy,” he spat between kisses, “You think I wanted to leave you there? Think I didn’t want you begging me to let you come, watch you as you fall to utter fucking pieces? Oh... I wanted it. I. Wanted. It. But you had to be taught – STILL fucking need to be taught… you can’t just do stuff, HAVE stuff because you, pretty Prince of purebloods sodding WANTS it, you hear me?” He shook him again, smiling grimly at Draco’s muffled yelp before flattening his body against the tiles, low enough now to drag Draco’s head back against the lip of the tub as Harry licked the beads of water off the skin of his throat and upwards ‘til he reached his mouth once more.
“I want to be good to you, Malfoy… I want you to be good… good enough for me to reward. Do you think you can do that, Malfoy?” The hand that had been resting against the tiles, supporting Potter as he craned to nuzzle Draco’s skin, now crept down into the scented water, stroking down over Draco’s chest to dig hard fingertips into the soft flesh of the blonds’ lower belly, flexing and stroking, so tantalising close to where Draco was throbbing and stiffening faster than he could ever recall prior to this moment, but remaining steadfastly away even as Draco’s hot, stiff flesh strained towards him beneath the foamy surface.
“Yes... yes. Please, yes Potter, I’ll be good… I’ll be good….” Draco mentally thanked Merlin that he was only capable of hoarse panting at this point or else he fancied he might have screamed the words so desperate was he for Potter’s touch, his actual skin stroking over his own… it was enough to have him already quivering and jittering his hands against the marble as he tried to push his body, mouth, his everything closer to Potter.
“You’ll be good? You’ll stop trying to torment and use me like some Slytherin sidekick sex toy?”
“Yes – yes, please, Potter, please!?”
Potter’s thumb smoothed its way down from his belly into the soft thatch of dark blond, circling against the root of his cock as Potter’s mouth moved to butt against Draco’s once more.
“Well then… since you asked so nicely…” He stabbed his tongue past Draco’s lips, muffling his heavy groan as the Gryffindor’s fingers clasped themselves, firm and slightly rough, around his aching, bobbing cock, squeezing and sliding back and forth as he savaged Draco’s mouth.
The water seemed to dull things, Draco noted somewhere in the back of his brain, the usual fire he’d come to expect from a good, hard wank, seemed muted whereas the sensation of Potter’s skin scraping over his seemed more heightened than anything he could imagine. Potter gave him a good, long stroke before cupping his hand about the head and squeezing slightly, setting Draco bucking madly and wondering if Potter meant for him to imagine the parallels between the sensation and what he imagined Potter’s hot lips and tongue would be like, wrapped around his cockhead, sobbing in frustration when he couldn’t get enough purchase on the marble to jerk his hips harder into Potter’s grasp.
“Fuck this,” Potter snarled abruptly, Draco swallowing a wail as the brunet released him, pulling his hand free of the water, “Want to fucking see this, can’t see a bloody thing past these poncy, bloody bubbles!” He shoved at the accumulated froth, Draco lifting his hands from their steadying potion against the marble edge, also shoving the foam from him as far as he could, not even thinking to blush as they each looked down through the tinted water to where his stiff cock waved and bobbed with the eddy’s, each moaning gently as Potter slid his hand down, careful, over Draco’s slick chest and stomach before resuming his grip.
“Good cock, Malfoy.” Potter grunted softly, sliding his tightening fist from base to tip, twisting and squeezing as he went, and Draco felt his blood ignite at the simple words.
Potter likes my cock.
Potter is TOUCHING my cock.
Harry Potter is giving me a fucking handjob in fucking prefect’s bathroom.
Oh god…
“Fuck yeah.” Potter grunted again as Draco’s hips began a staccato rhythm into his hand, “Work for it, Malfoy… c’mon… c’mon…”
Draco’s lungs were burning, his eyes unfocused now as he tried to continue watching Potter’s hand on him but it was too much, just too much and Potter’s mouth was just there so the next time he surged up with his hips he butted at Potter’s mouth with his own, whining even as Potter instantaneously acquiesced, their tongues and teeth clashing as Draco pumped his hips in time with Potter’s fist, each panting now and Draco felt literally ablaze with the thought of Potter’s hot, hard cock trapped in his trousers, pressing down into the tiled floor even as he writhed and worked Draco into a frenzy.
Mmm. Potter’s cock.
He thought briefly about dragging the brunet down into the water so he could push himself against the Gryffindor’s tight body again, imaging the contrast of slick, soapy skin against rough, waterlogged cloth and shuddering, knowing even if Potter was up for ruining his uniform, that he simply didn’t have the time to stop and enjoy it as the heat began to build in his bones, his muscles quivering and straining up against Potter’s marvellous mouth and hand.
“Harry...” he whispered, instantly ashamed of the weakness, pressing his mouth tighter to the brunet’s, his muscles beginning to scream.
“Harry?! Oi Harry – can you lob me my towel mate?”
They each stiffened and Draco could have SCREAMED were it not for the effort it was taking to not come with Potter’s attention on the damned bastard Weasel.
Potter took a steadying breath, his eyes clamped shut and his jaw so tight the veins in his temples and forehead stood out, throbbing beneath the lust darkened skin.
“..Uhh... you sure you’re done mate? Only… it still sort of stinks out here – the steam, y’know?”
The bellow seemed friendly enough but the small part within Draco that was not wailing in frustration took smug note of the tormented look in Potter’s eyes.
“I have washed this stuff off like 5 times now Harry, if its not off by now then even Merlin couldn’t get it off me!” Came back the cheerful shout, “Besides, if anything stinks in here it’s probably Malfoy so I wouldn’t worry.”
Potter slumped, his forehead dropping to Draco’s shoulder and Draco went bolt straight, his blood like ice as he felt the Gryffindor’s fingers loose themselves then pull away from his now somewhat painful flesh. He really wasn’t going to get to come – twice in one day Potter had done this to him, twice in one day had he felt stupid and unimportant and…
Draco tore himself away from the edge, ducking to the very bottom of the bath and screaming his rage into the water, the bubbles swarming to the top, bursting into black and green and red as the water funnelled his fury, Potter staggering to his feet and lurching across the room to retrieve Ron’s towel, pulling his shirt from his trousers to veil his still raging erection.
“Here mate.” He said gruffly, shoving the fluffy orange bath sheet at his friend before turning to watch Draco pull himself up out of the water, onto the ledge at the far side of the bath, far from where Harry could reach him, rage and disappointment written all over his face.
“Hah!” Ron burst out as he emerged, wrapped in the obnoxiously bright towel, spying the freshly soaked and glowering Draco and Potter’s wet arm and sleeve. “You ducked him! Nice one Harry, that’ll help keep his ferret fur nice and clean!”
Still chuckling to himself at the thought, he didn’t really notice Harry’s lack of response, nor the way he simply stood and stared at the fuming Slytherin, he just threw his clothes back on over damp skin and grinned, picturing the moment with pure joy and contentment.
“We should get a move on mate,” he said, turning to Harry, knotting his tie haphazardly, “You know what Mione’s like if we’re late.”
“Yeah.” Harry said slowly, his eyes finally detaching themselves from the steadily wilting Slytherin. “We should get going.”
“S’long Malfoy,” Ron called with glee as he headed to and through the door, towelling his hair as he emerged into the cooler air of the corridor, the rough motion distracting him from Harry’s less speedy departure as he again found himself looking at an angry and somewhat broken Slytherin.
“Malfoy.”
Draco sneered vaguely, his skin reddening as he recalled his informal use of Potter’s given name mere seconds before being rejected, his eyes lifting if only to show Potter there was still some spine left.
“Ten minutes. I’ll be just ten minutes. Don’t finish.” The words were cool, clipped and very quiet, but a steady heat still shone in Potter’s eyes and Draco felt his pulse redouble itself once more, nodding jerkily, trying desperately to feign indifference.
“I’ll see you outside.” The Gryffindor said and, turning without so much as a second of hesitation over Draco’s consent, he then left, leaving Draco sat in the now cloying, over perfumed, overly bubbly and horrifically Potter-less waters.
“Well Fuck.” He snarled succinctly.
******
Draco had eventually found the will to drag himself out of the water, his limbs like jelly and his skin pruned beyond recognition, but it was his poor aching balls that bothered him the most. Typically no one had ever got him as hard as Potter could but also typically never had he had such a hard time actually getting off.
He sighed. It seemed like it had been more than ten minutes, he’d dried off and redressed but for a good few minutes he simply hadn’t been able to talk himself into walking out of the bathroom – he simply could ‘not’ take it if Potter wasn’t out there, he’d been disappointed so many times already today.
Stepping out into the corridor, Draco glanced into the surrounding gloom – no matter how many candles lined the hallways, there was always a sense of lingering shadows leaving the old stone corridors cold and empty looking… particularly when there was no one there, waiting for you.
His head hung embarrassingly low, Draco walked away from the prefect’s bathroom, back towards the Dungeons. He rounded a corner, walking down yet another gloomy corridor and yelped loudly as a familiar hand covered his mouth and dragged him into an alcove.
“Miss me?” Potter all but growled, biting at the column of Draco’s throat and grinding his hardness into Draco’s soft backside as he pushed him into their now familiar position, Draco’s chest pressing tight to the stone walls.
He moaned, loud and unabashed. “Thought you weren’t coming.” he blurted despite himself, pushing back against Potter, desperate to get closer to him, his mouth, his hands, his cock.
“Oh, I’m definitely coming…” Potter snarled, yanking Draco’s head back towards him so he could kiss him, hard and brutal before abruptly releasing him, stepping away with a low groan as he took in the sight of Draco Malfoy grinding his hips into the stone and pushing his backside out as far as he could, all but inviting him to take what he wanted. “Unzip your trousers – push them down.” He barked and, despite himself, Draco stilled.
“Push them down?” He repeated, his voice catching as Potter suddenly aligned his body perfectly to his back once more, his hard cock prodding at his buttocks through both their trousers.
“What’s the matter Malfoy?” He purred, an edge of something dangerous to his voice that set Draco shivering like the first night he’d found himself forced against the wall, “Scared I’m going to fuck you?” He stroked a heavy hand over Draco’s pert rear, deliberately pushing his two middle fingers against the seam where the material split into the legs, “I might – I might fuck you. Might just push into your hole without asking, right? Might just take you here against the wall?”
Draco trembled and Potter ran a hand up from just under where his cock jutted against his zip, up over his belly and chest to grip lightly at his jaw. “Seems to me we’ve been here before Malfoy… seems to me that if I tell you to unzip and get out that beautiful cock of your so I can watch you touch yourself right here, right now then you should know better than to question me, hmm?”
A whimper rattled up and out of Draco’s chest as, with quivering fingers, he reached down to undo his belt, button and straining zip, moaning when Potter craned his head down over his shoulder to watch his engorged flesh emerge.
“Mmm.” Potter hummed appreciatively, “looks even better out of water… now… push your trousers down, I want to see the rest of you.”
Draco gripped his cock, tightly, in one hand, keeping a firm grip at the base as tremors raced through him. Potter wanted to see him, he wished he’d left his marks intact – he fucking loved looking at his skin with Potter’s handprints on him, he wanted to show himself off that way to Potter, wanted Potter to see what he saw, jerking himself off to his own image in the shower each morning. Slowly he pushed his trousers down, dragging his underwear with it ‘til his thighs felt constrained by the gathered material and only his robes concealed the bared flesh waiting beneath.
He looked back, shy now somehow, over his shoulder to meet Potter’s blistering gaze, aware of how his robes still prevented Potter’s commands being fully met. “You do it.” He whispered softly, shifting his shoulders slightly to highlight the swish of fabric against his nakedness, pushing his bottom back against the brunet and swishing some more for effect, unable to hold back a little smirk as his eyebrow danced naturally back into its ‘dare you’ setting.
Potter smiled, slow and devilish, reaching forward to position Draco’s arms so that, when he reached to deftly tug his robes from his shoulders, they simply fell away, leaving Draco bare from his shirt tails to mid thigh.
Harry ran a proprietary hand heavily down the centre of Draco’s spine, pausing to fist his hand into the shirts material and twist it up with an entirely too gratifying gasp as Draco’s posterior was exposed.
“Fuck.” He ground out between his teeth and Draco, unable to help himself at this point, pushed his rear end outward invitingly.
Panting, Potter made short work of his shirt tails, pushing the roughly up inside his jumper so that Draco could feel the knot of material pushing against his shoulder blades, no doubt being creased to all hell, but who cared about tomorrows uniform when you had Harry Potter panting Crup-like over your backside?
Craning his neck, Draco watched Potter over his shoulder, unable to keep from whimpering quietly and pushing his buttocks back further at the hungry look on the brunet’s face.
“Malfoy,” Potter said, the flush staining his cheeks belying the apparent calmness in his voice, “Put your hands on the wall. Keep them there.”
Draco’s breath stuttered in his chest and he lifted his hands, placing them trembling but firm against the stone as he looked back at Potter once more. “Please.” He said huskily, planting his feet as well as he could against the restriction of his knee-bound trousers and leaning his weight forward. He licked his lips and thought about Potter’s hand colliding with his naked skin and of Potter seeing whatever marks bloomed there. “Please Harry.. Please.” He whispered.
“Fuck.” Harry croaked and brought his hand down against Draco’s right cheek. Hard.
It hurt. Oh gods it hurt. Draco shrieked and bucked and he heard Harry give a startled cry as his own palm burst into sharp stabs of pain.
“Are you ok, are you alright?” Potter ground out, cradling one hand against his chest, the other cupped ever so gently over where his hand print was already glowing in bright purple bruise marks.
“Hurt.” Draco panted, rotating his hips as if the motion might lessen the burn, hissing as it caused him to stroke his abused skin against Potter’s cool palm.
“Poor Draco,” Potter crooned again as before, his lips grazing the side of Draco’s temple, his heavy breathing giving away just how aroused he still was, setting Draco moaning softly, his hips canting back to press his now vividly marked posterior into Harry’s hand. “Want some more?”
“Yessss…” Draco hissed, writhing, unable to believe his own ears or apparently his own erection, as it remained tight up against his belly, leaking even as his eyes watered and his skin throbbed. “Please yes – I want some more.”
“Mmm,” Harry growled in approval, suddenly dipping away, crouching behind Draco to inspect his literal handiwork, his touch feather soft as he traced the mark with his fingertips. “Poor Draco.” he whispered again, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the very centre of the mark, high on Draco’s right cheek.
Draco quaked. The pain he could handle, but random kisses to his most sensitive areas would likely undo him in ways he couldn’t bear to think about.
“Please.” He whispered again. “Please.”
Potter stood, nuzzling Draco’s nape briefly, tears burning in his eyes as he wondered momentarily if he was a monster, before he reach up to lower Draco’s left arm from the wall. “Touch yourself.” He said, low and urgently. “I want to see you.”
Gasping, throat dry from panting, Draco wrapped his left hand about his cock and began to jerk himself, softly but urgently. He wanted to get off, so badly, oh so badly… but not yet. Not yet. “Touch me.” He begged, breath and hips hitching in time, aware of Potter trembled, pressed close where he could watch Draco’s ministrations to himself.
Sighing, the hand lightly gripping Draco’s hip slipped round and downwards, quivering as it stroked over the blonds smooth skin.
“Draco.” Potter whispered, pulling his head round for a kiss, leaving the Slytherin breathless as the first blow fell on his left side.
He yelped and bucked, his right hand still holding his weight, through he swayed from the impact, Potter’s and already falling again against his flesh, not as hard as that one blow to his right but swiftly learning, learning where to hit, how hard, how fast.
Draco was barely able to touch himself… it was so good, too good, to the point where he was already gripping himself and silently begging not to come – his skin was on fire, he never could have dreamt just how much better it would feel to have Harry hitting him, not his trousers or his robes, but his palm to his actual skin. Every time Harry hit they each let out a sort of strangled cry, both pleasure and pain, and with each blow Draco’s cock pumped out another burst of liquid, his hand slipping back and forth through the precum and making him gasp each time his hips hitched back into the slap, sobbing and groaning so loud he couldn’t believe no one had come running to silence them yet.
“Yes – Yes – Potter – ungh – please – please – yes – yes – YES… GOD!”
He couldn’t stop it now, the blows were coming too fast, too hard, his backside was one giant throb of pleasure pulsing pain and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t even work his own cock, it was too close, too close, he was... he was….
“Oh, oh please, oh please, oh – OH!!!!”
Draco collapsed against the wall with a grunt and a cry, his entire body boiling into one point of sensation where it felt like all the fire and pleasure in his rear end was just pouring out the end of his cock and he shuddered, spots before his eyes and his breath rattling in his chest, his hips jittering as he pumped streams of come across the walls, Potter’s hands cupping over his bruised behind and squeezing, just gently yet firmly enough that it warranted yet another jet against the wall.
He was still attempting to catch his breath when Potter slipped a hand round his throat and under his jaw tilting him back for a long, breathless kiss, both of them shuddering as they broke apart, Potter pulling back, leaving Draco exposed and raw to the cooling air between them.
“…oh god.” He whispered wearily after he’d finally managed to draw oxygen into his lungs, “Oh GOD that was good.”
Potter, panting behind him with increasing fervour, placed a hand between his shoulder blades to hold him as he stood. “Wait.” He rasped. “Just… wait.”
Draco became aware of the same slick sounds that had so enchanted him previously that day and tried to turn, wanting to see Potter stood, hand hot and fast on his cock, beating himself off, only to find Potter’s hand pressed harder, almost pushing his forehead to the stone, the rough gasps coming faster and faster.
Draco licked his lips then bit them, pushing his ass out as far as he could being mostly pressed to the stone, moaning as the effort tightened the flesh on his swelling, burning cheeks. “Mmmmm.” He groaned encouragingly before jerking, Potter’s fingers digging tight into the nape of his neck, as thick, hot, stripes lashed against his abused posterior, the quick, hot splashes of heat near singeing his already stinging skin.
“Fuck...” Potter gasped, his face suddenly pressed into Draco’s hair, hands now braced either side of him against the stone. “Fuck.”
“Mm.” Draco agreed softly, too stunned by the sensation of Potter’s cum burning a slick trail down over his buttocks to react further, turning his head, boneless, as Potter directed his jaw towards him, capturing his mouth and kissing him deeply between gasps.
“Alright,” Potter panted, as he pulled back and away, tucking himself back into his trousers before Draco had time to give him even the quickest glance, “I’ve got to go – was meant to be studying with Ron and Hermione in the library.”
He straightened his clothes and ran sticky, red hands through his hair before grimacing and casting a rapid cleanse charm over himself, Draco still braced where he’d left him, blinking and silent as he watched the Gryffindor effortlessly erase all signs that he’d been with him, or ever wanted to.
Taking a deep breath, Potter took in the sight before him, the debauched Slytherin, stood quivering, bruised and sticky with something akin to panic in his eyes and sighed, stepping close once more.
“That was amazing.” He said, with such sincerity it made him blush slightly, giving Draco’s somewhat flagging spirits a boost even as Potter trailed a fingertip up over his right cheek, scoring a new line of heat into Draco’s skin and coming away with a fine sheen of ejaculate gleaming on the tip.
Unblinking, he pressed his fingertip to Draco’s quivering lips, biting his lip as the Slytherin took it obediently if dazedly inside, eyes still locked on Potter.
“Fuck.” Harry said again with rather more of a slur than he’d had before and Draco smiled then, his mouth curving wickedly about his finger before pulling off and pulling his trousers back up, underwear smearing the cum into his skin and sticking where it touched, causing a good few needles of stinging heat to lance through Draco’s behind.
“See you around, Potter.” He said with a gasp and a smirk, hoping the one counteracted the other, turning casually to face Potter for the first time since exiting the bathroom.
“Yes.” Harry said, voice neutral though his eyes burned like a brand once more. “You will.”
And before Draco could do more than quirk the necessary eyebrow, Potter swept away, swallowed up by the shadows and the cold, dark hallways once more.
Listening to the firm footsteps disappearing into the distance, waiting for even the echoes to be gone, Draco slipped a shaking hand down the back of his trousers to gather what he could of Potter’s rapidly drying cum from his throbbing, bruised backside. He lifted his fingers to his lips, thighs quivering, and sucked three inside at once, his taste buds flaring into life at the thick, sour tang of it on his tongue and, whimpering, he slid down the wall to rest on his haunches, his discarded robes in a bunch around his feet.
“Oh god…” he whispered as he pushed his heels up against his buttocks and moaned at the flare of pain, his cum and spit damp fingers still pressed to his lips. “I am so utterly fucked.”
TBC
Struck 1 thru 6
Title: Struck 7: Raw.
Author: LadyVader
Archive: Always ask the author first please.
Pairing/s: H/D.
Summary: Kiss & Make Up?
Rating: NC17 I guess... shocker, huh? ;)
Warnings: Bad Language, and SLASH! Flee li'l homophobes... Fleeeeeeeeeeee!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters from the Harry Potter books and films do not belong to me in any way and I'm making no money out of this shameless warping of their characters for my own amusement. Please don't sue me... I've got widdle cats to feed dammit!!!!! ;)
Dedication: As always, for Angel, my beta and bud extraordinaire
Extra Warning: UNBETAD!!!
Struck 7: Raw
Draco Malfoy clenched his fingers tightly on his knees and told himself for the fifteenth time that he was simply not going to vomit.
He’d consumed no less than 3 of his personal stash of healing and general upkeep potions and was feeling decidedly nauseous with each of them washing around and mingling in his guts… still, he’d reasoned as he swallowed each, better sick than tainted.
He’d had to take one potion to remove the livid bruise from his throat, watching each individual tooth mark vanish, gradually erasing Potter’s supposed ‘love bite’ from his skin. Then an anti-inflammation potion, to reduce his swollen lips and (more helpfully) to remove the puffy, reddened look from his eyes that stated for all the world to see that Harry Potter had crushed him under his heel yet again.
Last but not least came the calming potion – because, what good were his freshly renewed complexion and clear eyes if he simply could not stop crying?
It had always been one of his most frustrating faults (not that he many, of course) – never had he been able to lose his temper without indulging in a fit of raging tears the likes of which could rival Pansy when her chocolate frogs hopped away.
It was galling – not just to have had what he wanted in plain sight and not realised that it was slipping through his fingers ‘til it was gone, but to know that he had bared himself, in such a horribly open and intimate way to Potter of all people. It had seemed fun before – risky, wrong and so fantastically delicious that it had been all he could do to not just laugh, loud and long each time he thought of it… and now it was all he could do to not scream.
He’d dragged himself from the toilet stall somewhere around lunch, his legs shaking with each step towards the dungeons, his thigh muscles screaming as he dipped into his stash, collecting up the vials with a clink and a muffled whimper before making his way back towards the prefects bathroom.
Managing a somewhat satisfactory sneer as he barged his way through the hallways, he’d shuddered inwardly, picturing the humiliation creeping over his skin, his shame plastered to him like mud. As a child he’d often spent most of his time between scolding’s or sneers in the bathtub, the cradling liquid embrace more soothing than any proffered platitudes from his mother or Nanny Elf and, though time had changed his burdens, there was still nothing in his mind that could nurse a wounded soul like a hot, deep bath.
Keeping a watchful eye out for that damn, pervert ghost and pouring at least half his supply of purifying salts into the already scented, steaming tub, he’d all but ripped his clothes off, so determined was he to cleanse himself of Potter’s treachery.
Now, having been sat in the swirling waters with fresh tears of fury streaking down his face, he felt the dreadful realisation that perhaps a good, hot bath was not, in fact, the cure for everything.
“I don’t give a damn about bloody bastard Potter!” he muttered venomously into the steam, his fingers digging into his kneecaps below the waters surface in an effort to not repeatedly clench his poor aching knuckles into the fists they’d been locked in all afternoon. “I don’t!!”
“Talking to yourself Malfoy? Isn’t that the first sign of madness or would that just be the inbreeding?”
Draco stiffened, turning to sneer at the gangly ginger intruder with as much disgust as possible written across his face. “Hypocrite much, Weasley? When your family won’t even consider breeding with anyone who doesn’t have a ginger thatch, freckles and a nose longer than your list of unpaid bills?” He laughed with as much scorn as being naked would allow before turning pointedly away from the Gryffindor glaring at him. “Pathetic.” Draco muttered, unsure as to whether he meant the glowering russet monstrosity or himself.
Growling under his breath, the Gryffindor stalked forward shedding clothes haphazardly as he went, alarming Draco as it became clearer with every second that his privacy was at an end.
“Oi, Weasley! What do you think you’re doing? This place is taken, occupied – NOT FOR THE LIKES OF YOU! Now. Get. Out!”
With an abrupt and alarming wiggle, Ron stepped out of a rather festively orange pair of pants, displaying (to Draco’s extreme horror) a parchment pale rear end that jiggled as he stomped towards the marble tiled shower alcoves. “Fuck off, Malfoy.” He snapped, “I’ve as much right to be in this bloody poncey bathroom as you Ferret-features, now do us ‘both’ a favour and just shut up so I can shower, ok?” He ducked into the privacy of the shower area only to poke his head back through a nanosecond later, “And don’t give Harry any crap either, he’s been coming in here since fourth year so all that prefect shit’s just useless now, got it?”
Potter? Potter? Potter was coming?
Draco accidentally slipped off the smooth marble ledge that served as a seat for those not in the mood to be fully immersed in the scented depth of the tub, flailing briefly beneath the surface before his toes found purchase on the slippery wet bottom, emerging, pushing his hair back and away with frantic fingers, looking about for his towel – he could not be caught out, naked and wet and wounded and…
“Hullo Malfoy – taking a swim were we?”
Fuck.
Draco turned, casual yet dripping as much loathing as he was water, hoping his sudden dip had washed away all residual signs of his temper and hurt, casting scathing eyes to where Potter strolled forward now, hands deep in his pockets, a light of oddly malicious amusement lighting his face as he ‘accidentally’ kicked Draco’s towel from where it had been perched nearby the baths edge to the opposing wall by the window.
“Just rinsing off Scarface – not that I’d expect you to be familiar with the notions of hygiene but then, if even Weasley can be taught the basics then perhaps there might be hope for you yet.”
There. The Slytherin’s voice was steady, his tone simply dripping with disdain and his general attitude superior – all in all it wasn’t a bad effort, but still Draco could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and prickling behind his eyes. It was unfair, not only had the supposed boy wonder been an unfathomable bastard, but now he had the sheer nerve to show up when Draco was naked and vulnerable – it would be hysterical, Draco thought bitterly, were it happening to anyone but himself.
He eased himself back onto the ledge, careful to nudge his way into the biggest patch of bubbles so that he was surrounded by perfumed, green foam, shooting careful glances about the steam filled room as he looked, casually, for another towel with which to save his steadily plummeting dignity.
A beat passed. And then another and abruptly it occurred to Draco that the green eyed git had yet to make any response to his prior barb and, with stilled breath and clenched knuckles, he turned and slowly lifted his eyes to where the Gryffindor now stood, directly behind him, peering down into the water.
“Not seeing a lot of hope for you down there either, Malfoy – but then perhaps your nice girly bubbles there aren’t doing you any favours?”
Draco dragged yet more frothy, green protection over his lap, his face redder than the Gryffindor tie knotted loosely at Potter’s throat, Potter’s stupid smug face grinning oddly above it, as though this were some great game versus the worst and most humiliating day of Draco’s young life.
He snorted with as much scorn as he could muster given the strong urge to scream and cry and soundly beat the smile off Potter’s self-satisfied face. “Might want to get those pathetic spectacles of yours checked Potter – clearly they’re giving you an incorrect sense of proportion beyond your own fat head.”
Potter crouched then, sinking so suddenly so his head could tilt to place his mouth by Draco’s ear that he startled, nearly slipping from the edge once more, his fingers white on the marble surface below as he gripped it tightly, desperately trying to maintain his nonchalant façade.
“Wouldn’t say ‘fat’ exactly Malfoy, I mean, you managed to come to grips with it well enough earlier…” Potter ran one fingertip over the slick, slope of Draco’s stiffened shoulders, “Or had that slipped your mind?”
Draco trembled, mortification rising in him like lava, wishing to any god that would have him that he could slide under the water and stay there forever – the tide rising further when the Weasel’s voice abruptly rang through the tiled space.
“Oi – Harry?! You out there?”
With a minor click and the soft rustle of material, Harry pushed himself back fully upright. “Yeah Ron, I’m here!”
“Malfoy giving you shit?!”
“Not really!”
“Good! Drown him if he does – no one’ll miss him… probably thank you for it!”
Draco’s head bowed and he clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from knocking together, his fingers tight once again on his knees as he reflected briefly on the possibility that Potter might actually do it and put him out of his misery.
“Nah – it’s ok Ron – you just focus on getting shot of that Skunkweed residue so we can head out to meet Herm, k?”
Draco’s ears buzzed and burnt so that Weasley's inane response was lost to him as every nerve end in his body lifted and turned to quiver in Potter’s direction, his skin vibrating with awareness as the brunet crouched behind him once more.
“Do you think I should drown you? Just climb in and hold you under for awhile 'til the bubbles stop – hmm?” Potter’s tone, warm and teasing, did nothing to withhold Draco’s bone deep shudder, both visible then audible once it reached his teeth, his head jerking in quick negation as he contemplated leaping from the water and simply running for the door.
“Poor Draco…” the words were a whisper, surprisingly gentle fingers tucking a wet lock of hair behind his ear, the fingertips lingering over the sensitive whorl. “Have I been so dreadfully cruel to you today?”
Draco sniffled, unable to help the soft, wet snort or the tears burning again behind his tightly clenched lids as he nodded once, his chin practically resting on his collarbone with misery and the abrupt, absurd desire to crawl into Potter’s lap and be soothed.
“I’m sorry…” warm breath wafted the quiet apology over his temple and into his hair as Potter leant down further, his mouth touching briefly, here and there, skating down from the Slytherin’s hairline, to his cheek, to his jaw, to the frantic pulse beating erratically below.
“I needed to show you, needed you to see that I’m not a toy, not just some dumb Gryffindor you can play with at your whim – you understand? I didn’t really want to leave you like that, but Draco…” a sudden tight grip in his hair left Draco gasping, his head pulled up and round so that found himself gasping and blinking up into entirely too determined green eyes, “Draco, I will do it again, I will leave you broken and wanting and anything else I feel like if you try and force things. I am in control here – understand?”
Draco let slip a tiny sob, more of frustration than of anguish, angling his head up further, tipping his mouth towards Potter’s own stern, set lips, trembling and nodding even as he tried to push himself higher into Potter’s steady hands.
The Gryffindor’s expression hardened briefly, shaking Draco lightly by the tight clench he’d kept on his dripping hair. “You’re not helping yourself here.” He ground out, voice gruff even as the green melted away as his pupils dilated, head tipping down to press hot, hard kisses against Draco’s pliant lips, crushing the soft tissue back against his teeth with the ferocity of the sudden motion, growling as he nipped and sucked his way to Draco’s tongue.
“You’re not fucking paying attention Malfoy,” he spat between kisses, “You think I wanted to leave you there? Think I didn’t want you begging me to let you come, watch you as you fall to utter fucking pieces? Oh... I wanted it. I. Wanted. It. But you had to be taught – STILL fucking need to be taught… you can’t just do stuff, HAVE stuff because you, pretty Prince of purebloods sodding WANTS it, you hear me?” He shook him again, smiling grimly at Draco’s muffled yelp before flattening his body against the tiles, low enough now to drag Draco’s head back against the lip of the tub as Harry licked the beads of water off the skin of his throat and upwards ‘til he reached his mouth once more.
“I want to be good to you, Malfoy… I want you to be good… good enough for me to reward. Do you think you can do that, Malfoy?” The hand that had been resting against the tiles, supporting Potter as he craned to nuzzle Draco’s skin, now crept down into the scented water, stroking down over Draco’s chest to dig hard fingertips into the soft flesh of the blonds’ lower belly, flexing and stroking, so tantalising close to where Draco was throbbing and stiffening faster than he could ever recall prior to this moment, but remaining steadfastly away even as Draco’s hot, stiff flesh strained towards him beneath the foamy surface.
“Yes... yes. Please, yes Potter, I’ll be good… I’ll be good….” Draco mentally thanked Merlin that he was only capable of hoarse panting at this point or else he fancied he might have screamed the words so desperate was he for Potter’s touch, his actual skin stroking over his own… it was enough to have him already quivering and jittering his hands against the marble as he tried to push his body, mouth, his everything closer to Potter.
“You’ll be good? You’ll stop trying to torment and use me like some Slytherin sidekick sex toy?”
“Yes – yes, please, Potter, please!?”
Potter’s thumb smoothed its way down from his belly into the soft thatch of dark blond, circling against the root of his cock as Potter’s mouth moved to butt against Draco’s once more.
“Well then… since you asked so nicely…” He stabbed his tongue past Draco’s lips, muffling his heavy groan as the Gryffindor’s fingers clasped themselves, firm and slightly rough, around his aching, bobbing cock, squeezing and sliding back and forth as he savaged Draco’s mouth.
The water seemed to dull things, Draco noted somewhere in the back of his brain, the usual fire he’d come to expect from a good, hard wank, seemed muted whereas the sensation of Potter’s skin scraping over his seemed more heightened than anything he could imagine. Potter gave him a good, long stroke before cupping his hand about the head and squeezing slightly, setting Draco bucking madly and wondering if Potter meant for him to imagine the parallels between the sensation and what he imagined Potter’s hot lips and tongue would be like, wrapped around his cockhead, sobbing in frustration when he couldn’t get enough purchase on the marble to jerk his hips harder into Potter’s grasp.
“Fuck this,” Potter snarled abruptly, Draco swallowing a wail as the brunet released him, pulling his hand free of the water, “Want to fucking see this, can’t see a bloody thing past these poncy, bloody bubbles!” He shoved at the accumulated froth, Draco lifting his hands from their steadying potion against the marble edge, also shoving the foam from him as far as he could, not even thinking to blush as they each looked down through the tinted water to where his stiff cock waved and bobbed with the eddy’s, each moaning gently as Potter slid his hand down, careful, over Draco’s slick chest and stomach before resuming his grip.
“Good cock, Malfoy.” Potter grunted softly, sliding his tightening fist from base to tip, twisting and squeezing as he went, and Draco felt his blood ignite at the simple words.
Potter likes my cock.
Potter is TOUCHING my cock.
Harry Potter is giving me a fucking handjob in fucking prefect’s bathroom.
Oh god…
“Fuck yeah.” Potter grunted again as Draco’s hips began a staccato rhythm into his hand, “Work for it, Malfoy… c’mon… c’mon…”
Draco’s lungs were burning, his eyes unfocused now as he tried to continue watching Potter’s hand on him but it was too much, just too much and Potter’s mouth was just there so the next time he surged up with his hips he butted at Potter’s mouth with his own, whining even as Potter instantaneously acquiesced, their tongues and teeth clashing as Draco pumped his hips in time with Potter’s fist, each panting now and Draco felt literally ablaze with the thought of Potter’s hot, hard cock trapped in his trousers, pressing down into the tiled floor even as he writhed and worked Draco into a frenzy.
Mmm. Potter’s cock.
He thought briefly about dragging the brunet down into the water so he could push himself against the Gryffindor’s tight body again, imaging the contrast of slick, soapy skin against rough, waterlogged cloth and shuddering, knowing even if Potter was up for ruining his uniform, that he simply didn’t have the time to stop and enjoy it as the heat began to build in his bones, his muscles quivering and straining up against Potter’s marvellous mouth and hand.
“Harry...” he whispered, instantly ashamed of the weakness, pressing his mouth tighter to the brunet’s, his muscles beginning to scream.
“Harry?! Oi Harry – can you lob me my towel mate?”
They each stiffened and Draco could have SCREAMED were it not for the effort it was taking to not come with Potter’s attention on the damned bastard Weasel.
Potter took a steadying breath, his eyes clamped shut and his jaw so tight the veins in his temples and forehead stood out, throbbing beneath the lust darkened skin.
“..Uhh... you sure you’re done mate? Only… it still sort of stinks out here – the steam, y’know?”
The bellow seemed friendly enough but the small part within Draco that was not wailing in frustration took smug note of the tormented look in Potter’s eyes.
“I have washed this stuff off like 5 times now Harry, if its not off by now then even Merlin couldn’t get it off me!” Came back the cheerful shout, “Besides, if anything stinks in here it’s probably Malfoy so I wouldn’t worry.”
Potter slumped, his forehead dropping to Draco’s shoulder and Draco went bolt straight, his blood like ice as he felt the Gryffindor’s fingers loose themselves then pull away from his now somewhat painful flesh. He really wasn’t going to get to come – twice in one day Potter had done this to him, twice in one day had he felt stupid and unimportant and…
Draco tore himself away from the edge, ducking to the very bottom of the bath and screaming his rage into the water, the bubbles swarming to the top, bursting into black and green and red as the water funnelled his fury, Potter staggering to his feet and lurching across the room to retrieve Ron’s towel, pulling his shirt from his trousers to veil his still raging erection.
“Here mate.” He said gruffly, shoving the fluffy orange bath sheet at his friend before turning to watch Draco pull himself up out of the water, onto the ledge at the far side of the bath, far from where Harry could reach him, rage and disappointment written all over his face.
“Hah!” Ron burst out as he emerged, wrapped in the obnoxiously bright towel, spying the freshly soaked and glowering Draco and Potter’s wet arm and sleeve. “You ducked him! Nice one Harry, that’ll help keep his ferret fur nice and clean!”
Still chuckling to himself at the thought, he didn’t really notice Harry’s lack of response, nor the way he simply stood and stared at the fuming Slytherin, he just threw his clothes back on over damp skin and grinned, picturing the moment with pure joy and contentment.
“We should get a move on mate,” he said, turning to Harry, knotting his tie haphazardly, “You know what Mione’s like if we’re late.”
“Yeah.” Harry said slowly, his eyes finally detaching themselves from the steadily wilting Slytherin. “We should get going.”
“S’long Malfoy,” Ron called with glee as he headed to and through the door, towelling his hair as he emerged into the cooler air of the corridor, the rough motion distracting him from Harry’s less speedy departure as he again found himself looking at an angry and somewhat broken Slytherin.
“Malfoy.”
Draco sneered vaguely, his skin reddening as he recalled his informal use of Potter’s given name mere seconds before being rejected, his eyes lifting if only to show Potter there was still some spine left.
“Ten minutes. I’ll be just ten minutes. Don’t finish.” The words were cool, clipped and very quiet, but a steady heat still shone in Potter’s eyes and Draco felt his pulse redouble itself once more, nodding jerkily, trying desperately to feign indifference.
“I’ll see you outside.” The Gryffindor said and, turning without so much as a second of hesitation over Draco’s consent, he then left, leaving Draco sat in the now cloying, over perfumed, overly bubbly and horrifically Potter-less waters.
“Well Fuck.” He snarled succinctly.
******
Draco had eventually found the will to drag himself out of the water, his limbs like jelly and his skin pruned beyond recognition, but it was his poor aching balls that bothered him the most. Typically no one had ever got him as hard as Potter could but also typically never had he had such a hard time actually getting off.
He sighed. It seemed like it had been more than ten minutes, he’d dried off and redressed but for a good few minutes he simply hadn’t been able to talk himself into walking out of the bathroom – he simply could ‘not’ take it if Potter wasn’t out there, he’d been disappointed so many times already today.
Stepping out into the corridor, Draco glanced into the surrounding gloom – no matter how many candles lined the hallways, there was always a sense of lingering shadows leaving the old stone corridors cold and empty looking… particularly when there was no one there, waiting for you.
His head hung embarrassingly low, Draco walked away from the prefect’s bathroom, back towards the Dungeons. He rounded a corner, walking down yet another gloomy corridor and yelped loudly as a familiar hand covered his mouth and dragged him into an alcove.
“Miss me?” Potter all but growled, biting at the column of Draco’s throat and grinding his hardness into Draco’s soft backside as he pushed him into their now familiar position, Draco’s chest pressing tight to the stone walls.
He moaned, loud and unabashed. “Thought you weren’t coming.” he blurted despite himself, pushing back against Potter, desperate to get closer to him, his mouth, his hands, his cock.
“Oh, I’m definitely coming…” Potter snarled, yanking Draco’s head back towards him so he could kiss him, hard and brutal before abruptly releasing him, stepping away with a low groan as he took in the sight of Draco Malfoy grinding his hips into the stone and pushing his backside out as far as he could, all but inviting him to take what he wanted. “Unzip your trousers – push them down.” He barked and, despite himself, Draco stilled.
“Push them down?” He repeated, his voice catching as Potter suddenly aligned his body perfectly to his back once more, his hard cock prodding at his buttocks through both their trousers.
“What’s the matter Malfoy?” He purred, an edge of something dangerous to his voice that set Draco shivering like the first night he’d found himself forced against the wall, “Scared I’m going to fuck you?” He stroked a heavy hand over Draco’s pert rear, deliberately pushing his two middle fingers against the seam where the material split into the legs, “I might – I might fuck you. Might just push into your hole without asking, right? Might just take you here against the wall?”
Draco trembled and Potter ran a hand up from just under where his cock jutted against his zip, up over his belly and chest to grip lightly at his jaw. “Seems to me we’ve been here before Malfoy… seems to me that if I tell you to unzip and get out that beautiful cock of your so I can watch you touch yourself right here, right now then you should know better than to question me, hmm?”
A whimper rattled up and out of Draco’s chest as, with quivering fingers, he reached down to undo his belt, button and straining zip, moaning when Potter craned his head down over his shoulder to watch his engorged flesh emerge.
“Mmm.” Potter hummed appreciatively, “looks even better out of water… now… push your trousers down, I want to see the rest of you.”
Draco gripped his cock, tightly, in one hand, keeping a firm grip at the base as tremors raced through him. Potter wanted to see him, he wished he’d left his marks intact – he fucking loved looking at his skin with Potter’s handprints on him, he wanted to show himself off that way to Potter, wanted Potter to see what he saw, jerking himself off to his own image in the shower each morning. Slowly he pushed his trousers down, dragging his underwear with it ‘til his thighs felt constrained by the gathered material and only his robes concealed the bared flesh waiting beneath.
He looked back, shy now somehow, over his shoulder to meet Potter’s blistering gaze, aware of how his robes still prevented Potter’s commands being fully met. “You do it.” He whispered softly, shifting his shoulders slightly to highlight the swish of fabric against his nakedness, pushing his bottom back against the brunet and swishing some more for effect, unable to hold back a little smirk as his eyebrow danced naturally back into its ‘dare you’ setting.
Potter smiled, slow and devilish, reaching forward to position Draco’s arms so that, when he reached to deftly tug his robes from his shoulders, they simply fell away, leaving Draco bare from his shirt tails to mid thigh.
Harry ran a proprietary hand heavily down the centre of Draco’s spine, pausing to fist his hand into the shirts material and twist it up with an entirely too gratifying gasp as Draco’s posterior was exposed.
“Fuck.” He ground out between his teeth and Draco, unable to help himself at this point, pushed his rear end outward invitingly.
Panting, Potter made short work of his shirt tails, pushing the roughly up inside his jumper so that Draco could feel the knot of material pushing against his shoulder blades, no doubt being creased to all hell, but who cared about tomorrows uniform when you had Harry Potter panting Crup-like over your backside?
Craning his neck, Draco watched Potter over his shoulder, unable to keep from whimpering quietly and pushing his buttocks back further at the hungry look on the brunet’s face.
“Malfoy,” Potter said, the flush staining his cheeks belying the apparent calmness in his voice, “Put your hands on the wall. Keep them there.”
Draco’s breath stuttered in his chest and he lifted his hands, placing them trembling but firm against the stone as he looked back at Potter once more. “Please.” He said huskily, planting his feet as well as he could against the restriction of his knee-bound trousers and leaning his weight forward. He licked his lips and thought about Potter’s hand colliding with his naked skin and of Potter seeing whatever marks bloomed there. “Please Harry.. Please.” He whispered.
“Fuck.” Harry croaked and brought his hand down against Draco’s right cheek. Hard.
It hurt. Oh gods it hurt. Draco shrieked and bucked and he heard Harry give a startled cry as his own palm burst into sharp stabs of pain.
“Are you ok, are you alright?” Potter ground out, cradling one hand against his chest, the other cupped ever so gently over where his hand print was already glowing in bright purple bruise marks.
“Hurt.” Draco panted, rotating his hips as if the motion might lessen the burn, hissing as it caused him to stroke his abused skin against Potter’s cool palm.
“Poor Draco,” Potter crooned again as before, his lips grazing the side of Draco’s temple, his heavy breathing giving away just how aroused he still was, setting Draco moaning softly, his hips canting back to press his now vividly marked posterior into Harry’s hand. “Want some more?”
“Yessss…” Draco hissed, writhing, unable to believe his own ears or apparently his own erection, as it remained tight up against his belly, leaking even as his eyes watered and his skin throbbed. “Please yes – I want some more.”
“Mmm,” Harry growled in approval, suddenly dipping away, crouching behind Draco to inspect his literal handiwork, his touch feather soft as he traced the mark with his fingertips. “Poor Draco.” he whispered again, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the very centre of the mark, high on Draco’s right cheek.
Draco quaked. The pain he could handle, but random kisses to his most sensitive areas would likely undo him in ways he couldn’t bear to think about.
“Please.” He whispered again. “Please.”
Potter stood, nuzzling Draco’s nape briefly, tears burning in his eyes as he wondered momentarily if he was a monster, before he reach up to lower Draco’s left arm from the wall. “Touch yourself.” He said, low and urgently. “I want to see you.”
Gasping, throat dry from panting, Draco wrapped his left hand about his cock and began to jerk himself, softly but urgently. He wanted to get off, so badly, oh so badly… but not yet. Not yet. “Touch me.” He begged, breath and hips hitching in time, aware of Potter trembled, pressed close where he could watch Draco’s ministrations to himself.
Sighing, the hand lightly gripping Draco’s hip slipped round and downwards, quivering as it stroked over the blonds smooth skin.
“Draco.” Potter whispered, pulling his head round for a kiss, leaving the Slytherin breathless as the first blow fell on his left side.
He yelped and bucked, his right hand still holding his weight, through he swayed from the impact, Potter’s and already falling again against his flesh, not as hard as that one blow to his right but swiftly learning, learning where to hit, how hard, how fast.
Draco was barely able to touch himself… it was so good, too good, to the point where he was already gripping himself and silently begging not to come – his skin was on fire, he never could have dreamt just how much better it would feel to have Harry hitting him, not his trousers or his robes, but his palm to his actual skin. Every time Harry hit they each let out a sort of strangled cry, both pleasure and pain, and with each blow Draco’s cock pumped out another burst of liquid, his hand slipping back and forth through the precum and making him gasp each time his hips hitched back into the slap, sobbing and groaning so loud he couldn’t believe no one had come running to silence them yet.
“Yes – Yes – Potter – ungh – please – please – yes – yes – YES… GOD!”
He couldn’t stop it now, the blows were coming too fast, too hard, his backside was one giant throb of pleasure pulsing pain and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t even work his own cock, it was too close, too close, he was... he was….
“Oh, oh please, oh please, oh – OH!!!!”
Draco collapsed against the wall with a grunt and a cry, his entire body boiling into one point of sensation where it felt like all the fire and pleasure in his rear end was just pouring out the end of his cock and he shuddered, spots before his eyes and his breath rattling in his chest, his hips jittering as he pumped streams of come across the walls, Potter’s hands cupping over his bruised behind and squeezing, just gently yet firmly enough that it warranted yet another jet against the wall.
He was still attempting to catch his breath when Potter slipped a hand round his throat and under his jaw tilting him back for a long, breathless kiss, both of them shuddering as they broke apart, Potter pulling back, leaving Draco exposed and raw to the cooling air between them.
“…oh god.” He whispered wearily after he’d finally managed to draw oxygen into his lungs, “Oh GOD that was good.”
Potter, panting behind him with increasing fervour, placed a hand between his shoulder blades to hold him as he stood. “Wait.” He rasped. “Just… wait.”
Draco became aware of the same slick sounds that had so enchanted him previously that day and tried to turn, wanting to see Potter stood, hand hot and fast on his cock, beating himself off, only to find Potter’s hand pressed harder, almost pushing his forehead to the stone, the rough gasps coming faster and faster.
Draco licked his lips then bit them, pushing his ass out as far as he could being mostly pressed to the stone, moaning as the effort tightened the flesh on his swelling, burning cheeks. “Mmmmm.” He groaned encouragingly before jerking, Potter’s fingers digging tight into the nape of his neck, as thick, hot, stripes lashed against his abused posterior, the quick, hot splashes of heat near singeing his already stinging skin.
“Fuck...” Potter gasped, his face suddenly pressed into Draco’s hair, hands now braced either side of him against the stone. “Fuck.”
“Mm.” Draco agreed softly, too stunned by the sensation of Potter’s cum burning a slick trail down over his buttocks to react further, turning his head, boneless, as Potter directed his jaw towards him, capturing his mouth and kissing him deeply between gasps.
“Alright,” Potter panted, as he pulled back and away, tucking himself back into his trousers before Draco had time to give him even the quickest glance, “I’ve got to go – was meant to be studying with Ron and Hermione in the library.”
He straightened his clothes and ran sticky, red hands through his hair before grimacing and casting a rapid cleanse charm over himself, Draco still braced where he’d left him, blinking and silent as he watched the Gryffindor effortlessly erase all signs that he’d been with him, or ever wanted to.
Taking a deep breath, Potter took in the sight before him, the debauched Slytherin, stood quivering, bruised and sticky with something akin to panic in his eyes and sighed, stepping close once more.
“That was amazing.” He said, with such sincerity it made him blush slightly, giving Draco’s somewhat flagging spirits a boost even as Potter trailed a fingertip up over his right cheek, scoring a new line of heat into Draco’s skin and coming away with a fine sheen of ejaculate gleaming on the tip.
Unblinking, he pressed his fingertip to Draco’s quivering lips, biting his lip as the Slytherin took it obediently if dazedly inside, eyes still locked on Potter.
“Fuck.” Harry said again with rather more of a slur than he’d had before and Draco smiled then, his mouth curving wickedly about his finger before pulling off and pulling his trousers back up, underwear smearing the cum into his skin and sticking where it touched, causing a good few needles of stinging heat to lance through Draco’s behind.
“See you around, Potter.” He said with a gasp and a smirk, hoping the one counteracted the other, turning casually to face Potter for the first time since exiting the bathroom.
“Yes.” Harry said, voice neutral though his eyes burned like a brand once more. “You will.”
And before Draco could do more than quirk the necessary eyebrow, Potter swept away, swallowed up by the shadows and the cold, dark hallways once more.
Listening to the firm footsteps disappearing into the distance, waiting for even the echoes to be gone, Draco slipped a shaking hand down the back of his trousers to gather what he could of Potter’s rapidly drying cum from his throbbing, bruised backside. He lifted his fingers to his lips, thighs quivering, and sucked three inside at once, his taste buds flaring into life at the thick, sour tang of it on his tongue and, whimpering, he slid down the wall to rest on his haunches, his discarded robes in a bunch around his feet.
“Oh god…” he whispered as he pushed his heels up against his buttocks and moaned at the flare of pain, his cum and spit damp fingers still pressed to his lips. “I am so utterly fucked.”
TBC
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-12-27 11:51 pm (UTC)I don't have time to read it right now but I just wanted to say that yay! I remember this!!! I'll get back to it with a proper comment soon-ish. :)
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Date: 2009-12-28 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-24 10:29 pm (UTC)H/D pr0na bit more regularly. ♥no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 03:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 01:00 pm (UTC)Thank you! Please now... keep it up? Pleeease!
Oh, how I've been waiting for this to be finished.
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Date: 2009-12-28 01:02 pm (UTC)Does she know you are updating?
Gotta warn her!
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Date: 2009-12-28 02:56 pm (UTC)...*cringe* And who be Cheryl? Am guessing I prolly know her by a diff username??
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Date: 2009-12-28 09:38 pm (UTC)dysonrules? *smile*
it was her to direct me to your delicious "porn wars".
One day I'll have to really DO something to thank that woman properly.
She introduced me to the best authors on the net.
She would come screaming "misfit!!!" and "go to read this" or "that you can't miss" and then I run, and ... bliss ensued!
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Date: 2009-12-29 03:19 pm (UTC)and I'm glad you enjoyed the Porn Wars too!!! :D
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Date: 2009-12-29 03:22 pm (UTC)Anyways, thankyou for the lovely review, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! :D
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Date: 2009-12-28 10:09 pm (UTC)Now, I have to admit that I've already reread this particular chapter more than 5 times now *isn't exactly sure of the actual number* before even posting a comment. I just can't help wanting to go back over everything, from Draco's abject misery to encountering Harry again (GUH, Prefect's bathroom) to the extremely scorching handjob and it just all reinforces why I love this fic so much!!! And that interlude after the bathroom...*brain melts*
I love poor Draco's dejection and his posturing and then his begging and I love this Harry, who is such a delicious blend of gallantry and hot, dirty domination (but only with Draco). That whole dynamic that they can only seem to achieve with each other always keeps drawing me back to this 'verse.
I do hope you seek to do more in this world (because I am dying to see where this relationship takes them) and I hope to someday find the words to adequately express all the reasons why I love you and this story! Thank you for this!
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Date: 2009-12-29 03:32 pm (UTC)Do you remember when you made that BEAUTIFUL picture from my fic Precious, and then I begged you to do one for me for a diff story at a later date? Well prolly not at this point lol its been a fair few years :P but my point in mentioning it was that its for this fic (not this chapter) I was asking about so I'm 'so' glad you like this series so much as it'll make the begging so much easier come chapter 19 lol ;P so be warned, you may well find me on your cyber doorstep come that time ;)
Oh, I'm so glad you like it lol it was always my intention to continue this series, its just the chapter outline got up to 36 chapters, and even when I trimmed it to 24 its still a tad daunting when I'm looking at it from only just achieving chapter 7 lol but I DO plan to try my bloody best!!! :P
Thankyou so, SO much for the lovely review, its really made me smile - I'm SO glad you like it! :D
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Date: 2009-12-29 09:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 03:35 pm (UTC)Thankyou so much for the lovely, lovely review :D I'm so happy you enjoyed it!! :D
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Date: 2009-12-30 11:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 04:38 pm (UTC)I hope to update again soon so I hope you'll love me again soon :P Thanks for the lovely review!!
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Date: 2009-12-30 09:08 pm (UTC)Ah, just one more comment (because I reread it all XD).
No Draco. You are not utter fucked. Yet. Nyahaha, but we all hope that's not too far off.
Oh dear, I'm all giddy.
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Date: 2010-01-03 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 02:22 pm (UTC)I hope it's not finished yet? Because I'm sort of addicted to your writing at this point, and I'm not sure I can survive without more ;P
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Date: 2010-01-06 10:36 pm (UTC)Thankyou for the lovely review - glad you enjoyed!! :D
i love you!!~!:DDD
Date: 2010-01-07 08:19 pm (UTC)Re: i love you!!~!:DDD
Date: 2010-01-08 12:14 am (UTC)Also,I'll NEVER give up this fandom - am batting away plot bunnies both epilogue complaint and not (none of which am letting myself write til this beast of a WIP is slain) so I'll always be around, prolly long after anyone's even reading it anymore :P
Thankyou for the lovely words - I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D
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Date: 2010-01-10 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-13 02:27 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you enjoyed it, despite the bloody frigid weather!!!!
Thanks for the great review, there's more to come, I promise!
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Date: 2010-01-26 03:28 am (UTC)I shall re-read the first six chapters. But I remember loving them!
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Date: 2010-02-15 11:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-10 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-26 04:47 am (UTC)Permission to advertise your superb work?
Date: 2010-04-06 04:42 pm (UTC)-Maria Lances
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Date: 2010-04-15 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-04 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-05 03:43 pm (UTC)Anyway, I'm thrilled to see you're still writing H/D because you are (obviously) awesome at it. Can't wait to see more!
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Date: 2010-09-05 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-02 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
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