1Artistic Nudes
Draco put his head in his hands and hissed as the icy splash hit his hard erection. He had had that dream again, the one where he was annoyingly infatuated with the Potter prick… in more ways than one, he may add. He had found that cold showers were a necessity in the mornings since these dreams had begun.
But this morning, it didn't go down. It stood stubbornly turgid. Draco felt very much like bashing his platinum blonde head into the side of the shower as the cold spray proceeded to give him a brain freeze. He just couldn't forget the warm fingers tracing every lean muscle on his body, the downy soft hair in his fingers, the hot wet mouth moving on his…
"NO!" Draco exclaimed aloud.
He wrenched the shower knob in the off position and shoved his painful erection into his boxers, followed by a pair of jeans. He tugged a comb through his platinum locks before pulling the sopping hair into a ponytail. He then stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard of his large apartment complex. He only lived there to escape from the wizarding world. It was mostly a Muggle habitat, but that was what it was good for. Only problem was his neighbor across the hall was a senile old man, the woman directly to his left, near his living room, had a daughter who blasted her dime-a-dozen pop CDs, and the girl to his right, near his bedroom, and her male roommate were professional dancers. It wasn't exactly quiet around there.
His neighbor, the dancer, had told him about a dancer's position just opening, and that he might meet some nice guys while there. Oh yes, she had known about Draco's blatant homosexuality before even he did. Draco's appearance was nice; lean, long muscles without an ounce of fat, shapely limbs, a pointed face accented by blonde hair that was always in a ponytail or braid halfway down his back, and silver-blue eyes set in a perfectly angular face.
Draco glanced at the normally empty apartment, 324, one floor up, next door to the one adjacent to his. The glass door was tossed open and Three Doors Down was blasting through. An all-too-familiar dark-haired nightmare stepped, shirtless, onto the balcony with a glass of ice water. Sweat gave his muscular physique a sensual sheen. He was only wearing cut-off jeans and sneakers, adding to the roughened look.
He could have sworn that Potter caught his eye. He leaned on the balcony with a smirk and raised his hand in a friendly gesture. Before Draco could react, Maryanne, his dancer neighbor, appeared next to him and Potter was gone.
"Who was that?" she asked speculatively.
"New guy," Draco said casually. He looked at a full mug and indicated it sarcastically. "Help yourself to some coffee."
"Thanks." Maryanne said. "He seemed more than a new guy to me. Judging by your blush, you two have some history."
"Bad history," Draco said sadly, leaning on his balcony. "He hates me."
"Well, enemies make the best lovers," Maryanne joked. "Go help him move in."
With that, Maryanne was gone. Both her and Damien, her roommate, could be annoyingly perceptive. But he knew she was right. Draco walked into his bedroom and changed into his coolest and most breathable top and his favorite comfortable Doc Martens. With that, he made his was to apartment 314.
Draco raised his hand to knock nervously, but before his hand could make contact, the door swung open.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked. His normal glasses had been ditched. Had he gotten contacts?
"Hey, Potter," Draco sneered. "Since when do you live in Muggle neighborhoods?"
"Could say the same thing to you," Harry said with a plesant smile. "Come in."
The apartment was the same size as Draco's, but vastly more bohemian. It seemed the bedroom has been converted into a studio of some kind. The living room held a futon couch that converted into a double bed adjacent to a plasma TV. Puffy cushions covered the floor and a Relient K CD was playing in the very expensive looking stereo. Several boxes were left unpacked.
"Want help unpacking?" Draco asked, already hoping he would say no.
"Oh my god, seriously?" Harry breathed. "That would be the best."
Several hours of huffing and puffing ensued. Draco was far more lithe than Harry's extremely muscular frame, so he ended up going into small places when installing the bookcase. They also unpacked a lifting bench and free weights. Since when did Potter lift? During Draco's musings, he came across a box marked 'fragile.' It contained several expensive looking cameras and some framed photographs.
Draco was impressed by the stunning landscapes, but he hid that with a snort; "Since when were you a starving artist, Potter?"
Harry blushed and took the framed photographs. He then got out a step ladder, a level, and a pencil and marked where the photos would go.
After about 45 minutes of hammering and crushing his thumb four times, Draco decided it was time for a break.
"God, no wonder. We've been at it for nearly four hours," Harry laughed. "Here, have a seat. Want a drink?"
"What do you have cold and alcoholic?" Draco asked.
"Everything but water," Harry laughed. "How's Vodka?"
"Top Shelf or cheap stuff?" Draco enquired.
"No clue," Harry said. "I bought it while I was drunk."
"Go figure," Draco mused. "Sounds good."
After several shots of Vodka and twenty minutes of playful banter, the boys were quite relaxed on the futon, which doubled as Harry's bed.
"You never answered my question, Potter," Draco said. "When did you become a photographer?"
"What," Harry joked. "You think I should quit?"
"No, you're work is beautiful," Draco said.
"Well," Harry ran a hair through his slightly longer black hair. "It was about a year ago. I sold a photograph at an amateur show and it kind of stuck with me. I make plenty of money on my landscapes. But what I want to do is capture the beauty of the human form on camera."
"Ginny won't model for you?" Draco asked, intrigued.
"Ginny," Harry snorted under his breath in a disgusted manner. "Ginny went nuts when I told her I was quitting my ministry job to become an artist. She snapped when I told her I was…"
"You were what?" Draco asked.
"Promise you won't laugh?" Harry enquired. "Or use it against me later?"
"I am thoroughly sloshed, Potter," Draco joked. "I won't remember this conversation when I sober up tonight."
"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'm gay."
Draco's eyes shot open wide. He hadn't noticed,
but Harry had gotten some bodily additions that deemed him an artist
or gay, he couldn't tell. He had a tribal tattoo on the small of
his back, sterling silver rings through his nipples, and a steel
barbell through his tongue. Not that Draco didn't have his share of
piercings. He had gotten his labret done right after Hogwarts and his
penis done for his 19th birthday. Two years later, it was fully
healed, but he had yet to put it to the test. He had thought about a
belly button ring, but decided against it.
"Nice bodily
additions, Potter," Draco commented.
"Could said the same to you, Malfoy," Harry said, whipping out his camera. It was his cheapest digital camera. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"What?" Draco asked warily.
"Could you model for me?" Harry asked. "Umm… nude?"
"You are smashed, Potter," Draco laughed.
"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," Harry said with a smirk.
"Sure, I'll do it," Draco said, pulling on his jeans. Harry's hands stopped him.
"Allow me," he said with a smirk.
Harry's soft fingers pulled on the low riding jeans only engorged his erection from this morning further. Draco's long cock sprung from his silky boxers and Harry hitched his breath at the sight of the steel barbell right through that sensitive bit of skin just below the head. He flicked his tongue out to touch it lightly, which sent shivers down Draco's skin.
"You enjoy that?" Harry teased.
"You flatter yourself, Potter," Draco breathed in a rough voice.
"Sit," Harry's voice was commanding and husky to the point where Draco couldn't resist.
Harry pulled a bottle of baby oil from one of the boxes, probably the bathroom supplies. He squirted a generous amount into his hands and began to rub it into Draco's quivering skin. Each lithe muscle was covered in the glistening oil. When Harry moved onto his quivering penis, Draco gasped and thrust his hips up at him.
"My, my, aren't we just so responsive today," Harry laughed. He reached his head up and bit Draco's neck, a sensitive spot just below the hollow of his throat. "That's beautiful."
The use of the word almost caused Draco to explode. Harry took the camera from the side table, wiped his hands on his shorts, and began to shoot. Draco had no idea it would feel so erotic for Harry Potter to snap nude photographs of him. His blonde ponytail spilled over his pale shoulder, his skin glistened with baby oil, and his silver-blue eyes were hungry with pure need. Finally, Harry ran out of internal memory, and his erection was enough to send him down the one-way road to Crazy Town.
"I can't take it anymore," he cried in a husky voice as he crushed himself against Draco. "I… I need you!"
Draco groaned as he felt his ponytail pull and Harry's teeth on his neck again. Draco pulled Harry's jean shorts unceremoniously down to his ankles, while Harry pulled his sneakers and shorts off in his aroused haste. He pounced on Draco and kissed him ferociously.
Draco pulled Harry's hair, causing him to arch, putting those perfect nipple rings right in his face. He took one into his teeth and pulled. Harry cried out in ecstasy, which encouraged Draco to pull harder.
"Yes," Harry breathed. He thrust his naked hips at Draco, which caused him to cry out.
Harry bent down to Draco's quivering prick and took it into his mouth; his steel tongue ring left a cold sensation that threatened to spill Draco over the edge. Harry discreetly took a handful of baby oil and began to lubricate Draco's sensitive opening. He pushed one finger inside, causing Draco to cry out and grab Harry's downy-soft raven hair.
"Is this ok?" he asked as he slowly thrust his finger in and out.
"Please," Draco begged. "I want… I need… Oh FUCK yeah!"
Harry had added two more slender fingers as he slowly lubricated his quivering erection with baby oil. He picked Draco up while withdrawing his fingers. Draco groaned at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
Harry slammed Draco into a wall, holding him up with just his arms. Draco mentally thanked Harry for spending the last four years lifting. Harry pushed the head of his trembling cock into Draco's spasmic opening.
"You want me to come in you?" Harry asked in a husky voice in Draco's ear.
"Yes," Draco exclaimed breathily. He grabbed onto Harry's hair as he pushed the rest of the way in slowly.
"Oh, god, Draco," Harry breathed. The use of his name made Draco's stomach tingle. "It's so hot inside you. You're so FUCKING tight. Oh god. I. Think. I'm. Going. To. OH GOD!"
Draco and Harry came at the exact same time with ear splitting cries, their hot white orgasms splashing all over Draco's stomach, thighs, and buttocks. Harry laid Draco on the pristine white carpet and proceeded to lick Draco's orgasm off of him. It made Draco hard again, that feeling. He ended up spending the night at Harry's that night, not that they got much sleep.
And over Harry's fireplace is his favorite photograph—the perfect, lustful Draco Malfoy, sprawled nude over Harry's silk-sheeted futon.
