He's in the shower when he hears it – an unexpected, loud moan ringing out through the change rooms just as he sticks his head under the flow of hot water to rinse the shampoo from his hair. Harry quickly finishes and turns off the tap, wrapping a large, plush towel around his waist and plucking his glasses from the ledge to put them back on his face so he can once more see.

His breath hitches when he hears a series of small whimpers followed by a deep groan. It's definitely someone enjoying themselves and Harry awkwardly shuffles forward, not really wanting to interrupt but unable to just stand there practically naked and dripping wet, listening to the sounds of obvious pleasure.

He makes it to the doorway but is stopped in his tracks at the sight of a damp Draco Malfoy, completely naked and kneeling over the side of one of the benches, his legs spread and pale arse in plain view as he thrusts the end of a broomstick inside of himself.

Harry chokes on the noise that attempts to make it's way out from his throat, his muscles flexing as he tries instead to stay silent. Oh gods, what in the hell is Malfoy doing... and why is Harry suddenly so turned on watching it?

His eyes are fastened to the point where the slick, wooden shaft protrudes from Malfoy's arse. Clumsily, he tightens the towel around his waist with shaking fingers, ignoring how flustered he feels and how his cock twitches and swells beneath the fabric. Harry flushes and takes a quick step backwards to give the blonde some privacy.

Malfoy moans again, his fingers repositioning his hold on the broom as he manages to take it in deeper and Harry, still in shock, trips over his own feet, crashing into the towel stand with a noisy gasp. His hands scramble to catch himself so he won't tumble to the ground and he peers over to see if he has disturbed Malfoy. He sees wide grey eyes looking right at him from over the man's shoulder.

Everything stops, especially his need to breathe. Harry clings to the stand, his knuckles white, his eyes unmoving. He just can't seem to look away.

"Oh gods," Malfoy says, finally breaking the crushing silence, his entire body turning a lovely shade of pink. "The fuck, Potter?"

Harry's mouth moves but nothing comes out. He rights himself, the towel slipping down to his hips as he stands straight again. Eventually he forces words out, though he stutters.

"Wha-what do you mean, the fuck?" he replies, his voice hoarse for some reason, "I should be asking you that, Malfoy." He gestures to Malfoy's arse and the now unmoving broom sticking out from it.

"I-I... I-" Malfoy responds, clearly too rattled about the position Harry has caught him in to make a proper comeback. He watches Malfoy's spine shift beneath his skin as he turns his head away. "I thought I was alone," Malfoy manages to say, his whole body shaking as he grips the broomstick tighter and begins to pull it out, his head falling down onto his arm to hide his blushing face.

It's an opportune moment for Harry to one-up the Slytherin git, to either make fun of him or use what he's seen as blackmail, but he can't quite find the right words. Instead, he lets out a strangled 'Malfoy!' as the man in question pulls the broom free. Neither of them make a move after that, both unsure what to do with the situation. Harry is left standing there with an eyeful of Malfoy's rounded rear end.

He swallows, his mouth too dry, his gaze fixed upon the furled skin of Malfoy's fluttering hole. It's red and shiny and Harry finds himself so hard from staring at it that it actually physically hurts. He watches it clench and then widen, opening up under his regard, and he lets out a gasp.

And then he finds himself closer, though he has no idea when he'd taken the steps required to get there, his hand reaching out of it's own accord to touch the swell of Malfoy's perfectly shaped bottom. Harry lightly smacks the right cheek, watching the flesh jiggle enticingly.

"Fuck... what are you-" Malfoy pants out, just barely arching up into his touch. Harry cuts off his words with a few shushing noises, moving his fingers up to the base of the man's spine before sliding down the line of his crack, delicately brushing over the place he can't seem to take his eyes off of. He feels the slickness of it on the pads of his fingers and they both shudder at the same time. Malfoy lets out a choked up whimper and spreads his legs even more for Harry as he tentatively circles his fingers around the warm skin.

"Please," Harry hears Malfoy sob quietly in his arm, his skin breaking out into goosebumps as he shivers with need.

He has no idea why he's doing what he is at the moment, but he thinks that it will be even harder to stop, so he doesn't. Harry just drops to his knees behind Malfoy's kneeling body, ignoring how cold the floor is, and takes his arse in both hands, spreading him apart so he can get a better look at what he's been touching. Malfoy jerks sharply in his grip and he squeezes roughly to keep him in place.

Harry looks at Malfoy's arsehole, pretty and pink, shiny with lube, winking open and shut, and he suddenly has this strange urge to find out how it tastes. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to the little bud, leaving a kiss over the moist, wrinkled skin. Malfoy makes a loud keening sound and frantically thrusts his arse back against his face.

Harry can feel the tiny hole clenching against his lips and it sends a jolt of arousal through his body straight to his interested cock. He moves his lips around, brushing them against Malfoy's arsehole over and over until he finally gets the idea to try using his tongue. Harry has never felt such a sexual urge as this, to taste Malfoy's arse, to do something so dirty and raw and base.

The first swipe makes it twitch and Harry groans into the wet skin, snaking his tongue along the edges and dipping inside with it. Malfoy's panting and making inarticulate sounds, and Harry slips his hand down between his own legs, flipping the towel out of the way to touch himself. He fists his own cock as he crudely spears his tongue inside, hearing Malfoy's cries ringing off the walls.

He pulls back to be sure that the cries are from pleasure and looks up at his rivals half-covered face. His eyes are scrunched closed, his mouth a pleasing 'O' shape, his fingers clutching the bench tightly. It's a beautiful sight and Harry licks his lips, tasting something he can only describe as 'Malfoy', before he buries his face back between the Slytherin's cheeks, his tongue sliding inside his stretched opening easily now.

"Potter-fuck, oh... please... please, Potter," Malfoy begs deliriously, his thighs shaking as Harry continues to stab his tongue into him, eating out his arse relentlessly as if he were a man starving for it. Harry's never been as turned on as this in his entire life and he sucks hard on the wrinkled, pliant skin, nipping gently with his teeth as he swirls his tongue around the pulsating hole.

Pulling away again, Harry bites his lip as he looks down to his hand moving over his cock, slick with pre-come as he spreads it down from the tip. Not even thinking any more, he leans up and forward, rubbing himself into Malfoy's cleft, pressing the sticky head against the slippery hole and sliding it up and down, teasing him with it.

His chest clenches at the ragged sound that gets torn from Malfoy's lips as the man bucks his hips back, impaling himself on Harry's length. Harry doesn't even know if this is what he'd intended when he had began rubbing himself against Malfoy's perfectly obscene arse, but he finds himself sliding forward into the tight heat anyway.

It's absolute bliss and Harry wonders at how Malfoy is the one giving him this incredible sensation. His hands come up to grip at the blonde's hips as he buries himself deeper, his own hips digging into the plump flesh of Malfoy's arse, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he tries not to come straight away. Because this is just too good to have it come to an end so soon.

Harry doesn't even give a thought to the fact that he's fucking his school rival, that this could somehow be thought of as very, very wrong and that he will likely regret his actions later on. He just swivels his hips in a circle, pulling out a little before thrusting back in, groaning out at the perfection of it all.

"Fuck, oh fuck... Potter... yessss," Malfoy hisses between his clenched teeth, pressing back against him like a needy slut more than eager to be filled with Harry's rutting cock.

"You like this, Malfoy?" Harry asks, pulling more than half way out before slamming forward, unable to keep himself from expressing how good it feels by moaning brokenly, feeling entirely wrecked when he just has to do it again, and again, and again, until their skin is slapping together and sweat begins to bead down from his hairline into his eyes. Malfoy's continuously shuddering and crying out, scrabbling for a better grip of the bench as Harry just gives it to him.

"Harder... gods, fuck me harder," the Slytherin demands, and Harry complies, definitely sure that he's enjoying it, completely lost as he rams forward as firmly as he can.

"Jesus fuck, Malfoy... so fucking hot," he mutters, his thighs tensing, his toes curling, panting open mouthed as he spills his release inside the gripping hole. He hears Malfoy whimpering again as he starts to slow down, his hips juttering shakily through his orgasm – grinding, grinding, plunging into the wet, clenching warmth until he can't any longer.

Harry pulls free, looking down as his cock slides out, a rivulet of come dripping down to Malfoy's hanging balls. Slouching down over Malfoy's lower half, Harry only just realizes what he's done, that he's just fucked Malfoy up the arse and even enjoyed it, immensely.

"Bloody hell," he whispers against Malfoy's sweaty skin, closing his eyes for half a second.

"Potter," Harry hears quietly spoken to him, "please... Potter." And he feels Malfoy wiggling around across the bench, trying to reach down between his legs to take himself in hand.

Taking in a large gulp of air, Harry pushes himself up, running his fingers through his tousled hair as he thinks. He should help Malfoy out – the man let Harry fuck him, it was the least he could do. He looks around the room, at a loss, and spots the broom leaning on the bench beside them. Reaching out for it, he caresses the dark wood, contemplating the filthy thought that's passed across his mind. Harry bites his bottom lip, holding it horizontally and bringing the end of it to Malfoy's arse. Pushing gently until the tight rim gives way, it slowly slides in, making Harry's eyes darken as he watches it inch forward. Malfoy lets out a harsh breath and groans, chanting out a breathy 'yes' as it gets pushed in deeper.

"Take it," Harry says, "Fuck, take it, Malfoy."

He's twisting the broom with his wrist, pulling it out and then back in again, fucking Malfoy with it, when he realizes that it's his own broomstick he's using. Malfoy had been shoving Harry's broom up his arse, getting off on it – he spreads his fingers out over Malfoy's arse with his free hand and smacks him hard. Harry doesn't stop using the broom as he spanks the blonde, just fucks it into him faster, pressing in as deep as Malfoy can take.

"Yes! Oh-fuck-please... yes..." Malfoy babbles, so far gone as Harry brings him to orgasm with his broom and hard spanks to his naughty arse, strings of white pulsing out from his red, throbbing cock and making a mess against the bench and floor. Harry twists his wrist one more time and pulls the broom out, sticking all four of his fingers into the gaping hole as soon as the wood is out of the way and feeling Malfoy pulsate around them.

Malfoy's whole body has gone slack and he slumps over the bench, looking drained of all his energy, ignoring the fact that he's still full of Harry's fingers. Harry wriggles them around to catch Malfoy's attention, pulling himself up so that he can lean over his back. He slips his tongue out to trace along the shell of Malfoy's ear.

"You were using my broom, Malfoy," he comments, a heady feeling rushing though him as the Slytherin moans brokenly and tries to move his arse so that Harry's fingers will slip free. He holds them there and presses downward, rubbing over a smooth little area that makes Malfoy scream.

"Why were you using my broom?" Harry asks after the man quiets down again, barely touching the spot and seeing Malfoy break out into a full body shiver as he tries to shut his legs. He doesn't relent and keeps his fingers embedded inside his arse.

"Please, Potter... god, please, 's'too much," Malfoy groans hoarsely, shifting around even more. Harry gives the spot one last rub before he backs off to let the man answer the question that he asks him again.

"I don't-I don't know..." Harry shoves his fingers back in until the upper most part of his knuckles catch against the rim, looking down at how stretched Malfoy's arse is around him. He could probably fit his whole hand in there.

"Tell me, Malfoy."

Harry presses his body into him harder, making sure he's speaking directly into Malfoy's ear. He doesn't know why he feels the need to find out exactly why Malfoy has chosen to use his broom, but he just does. The Slytherin lets out a 'fuck' and Harry can feel more than hear the sigh he makes from his chest being up against his back.

"I was imagining it was you," Malfoy finally admits, hanging his head down as his face turns dark red. Harry chuckles and thrusts his fingers into his arse a few more times just to hear him moan again before pulling them free and wiping them on his discarded towel.

"Well, Malfoy," he starts to say, standing and smirking down at Malfoy pushing himself up off the bench, "maybe all you had to do was ask." Malfoy scoffs at him and rises to his feet, looking a bit wobbly at first. Harry gives a wide grin and says, "Now I need another shower, come on," inviting him to join, and Malfoy tilts his head to the side in contemplation before simply following.