Trigger Happy, a harry potter fanfic

Trigger Happy

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Harry is finally alone, sitting astride a bench in the Gryffindor quidditch team's bathing room, his back against the wall by the end of the bench. The lean muscles of his right arm, Harry's favoured snitch catching arm, are flexing rhytmically. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Triwizard Champion, the Chosen One, is wanking.

It's the first day of the Easter holidays of Harry's sixth year and he is sixteen, full of hormones, frustration and spunk that wants out. The latest reason for Harry's frustration is that thrice accursed little puppy, Colin Creevey, the only other Gryffindor boy in residence during the Easter. For the last four days before almost everyone headed home Harry has been so busy he hasn't been able to have a a single session of quality time by himself in private, let alone with company. And then today, Colin has been following him like a lovesick fangirl, destroying any chance for a quiet wank. Admittedly, Colin has changed for the better during the previous fall and winter, but that's only gotten him so far in Harry's books. For one, his voice has broken and become much less irritating. For second, he has hit the growth spurt and gotten rid of the baby fat, becoming rather more good-looking and much less unintentionally cute. Thirdly, he has let his hair grow longer, and that suits his wavy hair much, much better. But, he still acts like a lovesick puppy around Harry, which rubs him up all the wrong ways imaginable.

Eventually, to get rid of Colin, Harry went flying and kept at it for an hour and a half. When he returned, cold, exhilarated and exhausted, he was very grateful of the magical reserves of instantly hot water and the large tubs for taking a bath, installed just last year in addition to the showers. After soaking himself into a relaxed state of warmth, Harry found his cock rising to attention. It soon became too splashy to wank in the tub, so he wrapped himself in a large towel and straddled the bench. And now he is content, smiling happily, rubbing himself all the right ways, eyes closed and really getting into the groove, when suddenly…

CLICK

Colin has been waiting anxiously for hours, it seems to him, for Harry to return from his flying exercise. He was overjoyed to find out that Harry would be the sole Gryffindor boy in the castle during the holidays, and promptly cancelled his already planned trip home and to other relatives during the break. Harry shouldn't have to be alone for the holidays, and Colin has tried his best to keep him company, but he's an abysmal flyer, so he couldn't really offer Harry any meaningful companionship on a broom. He thinks he's reasonable and knows his own limits and is actually rather proud of that. But, to be at Harry's side as soon again as possible, he's been keeping watch. And when he sees Harry finally land, looking worryingly cold, he hastens from the castle to the quidditch pitch. He goes in the Gryffindor changing rooms. The foyer is empty and so is the locker room. The door to the bathing room is open and steam is floating out. Colin stops, considering his options. Slowly, he gets a mischievous glint in his eyes and something close to an evil grin spreads on his face. This is a face quite different from his usual eager puppydog one presented to the world at large. Colin takes off his robe, the pullover under it, shoes and socks and continues barefoot, careful and catlike, until he can see through the door. He has his camera ready, just in case he'll get lucky. Harry Potter in the buff would be the cherished jewel of his photo collection.

But when Colin actually sees Harry Potter, doing the favourite relaxation exercise of any teenage boy or, indeed, any male of human species, his jaw drops open, he forgets all about stealth and the fact that he hasn't put a silencing charm yet on his camera, his fingers grip the device harder and the forefinger of his right hand reflexively pushes the trigger…

CLICK

…a loud, mechanical sort of sound echoes around the changing room. Harry's eyes blink wide open, his hand pauses it's rhytmic movement and the other, which isn't even his wand hand, tries in vain to grope for the wand that is way too far away on the wrong side of him. Then he sees Colin, and his alarm changes into exasperation. And to make matters worse, his long neglected cock shows no signs of going down. With chagrin, Harry realises that it's the very target of Colin's flabbergasted stare, and while tugging at the towel to cover himself, Harry barks out:

"For Merlin's sake, Colin! Can't you give a bloke a moment of privacy! You're a bloody stalker you are!"

CLICK

And now that Colin is recovering, he's taking aim, zooming and focusing his camera to get a good composition. He grins at Harry.

"You're really fit, Harry. You know that, don't you?"

"And you're an unbelievable tosser!" Harry evades the question, looking flustered and a bit embarrassed.

"Funny, that," Colin laughs, "given what I've just caught on film."

And when Harry leaps forward to confront him, hurt pride and anger and frustration mixing with unexpected vulnerability in his bottle green eyes, Colin just can't resist the probably best shot he's ever been offered.

CLICK

Later, much much later, it becomes the iconic portrait of young Harry Potter; the unfinished, uncomfortable perfection of youth in all it's conflicting glory: thin but wirily muscled body, untidy hair and those astonishing green eyes behind the frames somehow expressing all that's raw and painful but also undeniably real and true in being a teenager… And to make it all even better, there's the tantalising, half-hidden glimpse of Harry's out-of-focus erection buried in the folds of the towel. It's a truly wonderful photo.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK

Back in present, Harry goes for Colin's camera, now shooting in rapid succession, but Colin evades and Harry catches his arm instead. He twists it sideways, forcing the camera down and away from pointing at him. To not drop his precious camera, Colin is forced down on his knees in the process. Harry, now standing, tries to hold the towel around himself with just one hand, but it's difficult when the focus of his attention is elsewhere, on the blond boy kneeling before him, and so one corner of the towel slips through Harry's fingers and gravity inevitably claims it. The rest of the towel follows, despite Harry letting go of Colin and trying in vain to catch it in time.

It all seems to happen in slow motion, the edge of the towel falling around Harry's legs, just ahead of his grabbing fingers, and Harry's body twisting when he tries to reach the towel escaping behind his back, and his still half hard erection getting the leverage from the twist to escape the folds in the other end of the towel, swinging free and then back again. And Colin, showing a keen talent for multitasking, putting away the photography equipment with one hand and reaching for Harry's with the other. His fingers wrap around the shaft and they feel like a piece of unexpected heaven to Harry, however startled he is by the sudden touch. He turns back, the towel forgotten, and looks down. Colin gives him a tentative stroke and leans forward. Harry reaches for him but halts, suddenly not sure if he's going push Colin away or pull him towards his groin. It doesn't really matter anyway, the hesitation in itself is enough for the younger boy. With Harry's wide eyes glued to him, Colin opens his mouth, gives the head of Harry's cock a swirling lick and then promptly inhales it. And if the fingers felt excellent, this is total bliss. Harry starts to feel light-headed and has to concentrate on staying upright. "Probably the loss of blood in my brain," Harry thinks, because he's getting harder than ever, and Colin definitely seems to know what he's doing. It feels amazing, and Harry has to resist an urge to start fucking his mouth. And with that, he comes to his senses. He shouldn't be doing this.

"Stop!" Harry croaks, his throat unexpectedly dry. "What by Merlin's beard do you think you're doing!"

"What?" Colin asks, coming up for air, "Giving you head, obviously. Why?"

"I don't fancy you," Harry says, even if his hormones disagree, and his cock twitches for more. "I'm not sure I even like you."

"So what?" Colin brushes off the objection, "You're horny as hell, I'm right here, and I fancy you like mad. Besides, you like me well enough, you're just saying that."

"But you wouldn't want to…" Harry hesitates, but being both brave and stubborn, plows on. "I mean, you don't wanna be just a… just a fuck toy, Colin, not for me or anyone else either."

"Now what you really mean is that I shouldn't want it, because you don't. But don't you get it, Harry," Colin answers, looking right into Harry's eyes. "That's exactly what I want with you. I know you don't love or value or care for me the way you do Ron or Hermione. But I want you, Harry, and there's no shame in sex for the fun of it, and I know you wouldn't be mean to me. Even if you say you don't like me." And then Colin grins, his lips wet and glossy. "And at least there's one part of you that likes me just fine," he says, stroking Harry's erection, and gets back to work.

This time, Harry doesn't object. His brain tries to find some fault in Colin's logic, but can't. This has to be wrong, somehow, because Colin's so YOUNG and it's all so… deliciously wicked and hot and oh, OH, it feels SO good he can't really think any more, with Colin's tongue doing what it's doing, and oh Merlin, now Colin's hand gently cups his balls and Harry only faintly registers his knees almost buckling under him as he looses all thought completely and only FEELS how his body convulses and collapses at the same infinitesimal and OH MERLIN so long and blissfull moment that feels like a complete AEON of wonderful, pulsating release of tension, of SPUNK and trembling legs and oh, OH COLIN how the FUCK did you ever get so good at this and OH is that SLURPING you wicked little puppy? And then the wave of release finally reaches his legs and they relax right from under him, and Harry drops, heavy and boneless.

He doesn't faint, quite, but for a moment there's nothing for Harry but the wonderful, almost liquid and totally spent feel of his body, and when he comes back to his other senses, he's still panting, and it means it really didn't take him that long at all to recover, but boy oh boy does it feel good to be so completely, blissfully stress-free for a change.

And then he becomes aware of Colin, who's grinning at him like crazy, with some evidence of Harry on his face, and…

"IS THERE NO BLOODY SHAME IN YOU, YOU TWERP!" Harry shouts, not so relaxed any more, because Colin has his camera again, and he's obviously busy clicking away, even if the camera gives no noise this time.

"Nooo," Colin laughs, full of mirth and enjoying himself no end, "I can't really say that I can find any. No shame, sirree, none at all. Why?"

"Because…" Harry splutters indignantly. "Because I'm bloody NAKED here, and you're bloody taking bloody photos and if you don't stop RIGHT now…" Harry finds and picks up his wand, and points it at the camera, "…you're gonna have to put it back together from bloody ATOMS, you here me!"

"Okay, okay," Colin says, worried and convinced. "I'm putting it away, see, nice and easy Harry. Please don't break it."

"Right you are," Harry growls. "And if you'll even TRY to pick it up again I'll hex your bloody arm to JELLY, you wanker."

"Listen, Harry. Don't be mad, okay. I have a question."

"What?"

"I really love your cock, mate. Can I have some more, please?"

Harry has never fucked anyone, yet. But he knows the mechanics, he's been on the receiving end half a dozen times by now. And while he loves getting Ron's cock in him and, indeed, loves Ron so obviously it's all good, it's still bugging him a little that it's never the other way around. So while Colin is busy again and showing remarkable skill for sucking cock, Harry's mind revolves around the idea of keeping Colin on the side. He's almost like a puppy anyway, he'd make a wonderful pet. And it's really not like they're exclusive with Ron or anything, the git loves Hermione. They're just best mates with benefits and all that jazz, right? So it doesn't count that he loves Ron. Who loves Hermione. Who loves Ron right back, but is too stubborn to… Ahem. So it's all fine. He can shag anyone he wants, on the side. Right. Back to you, Colin.

And when his attention is once more in the present time, Harry realises he's not going to last very long this time, either, if he doesn't intervene. It's a bit hard to talk, though, when the other half of the supposed conversation is busy licking and sucking your knob.

"So, ooh, Colin, did you really… mean it… ah, what you said earlier?

And, merciful towards the conversation, Colin stops, which greatly improves Harry's powers of concentration.

"Which part?"

"The part where you said you wanted to be my… wanted to be shagged."

"Harry, I'd love to be your fuck toy. Honestly. All you need to do is ask."

"Really? Ho hum. So, well, can I?"

"Hm, never mind that. I've changed my mind now."

And when Harry's face falls, Colin takes pity on him.

"You don't have to ask, Harry. Just shag me already."

And so Harry takes a hold of Colin's head and guides him up from between his legs, and, while his hands are already so conveniently on both sides of Colin's face, pulls him in for a snog. Nothing romantic, you understand, but a deep, sloppy, ferociously hot affair of claiming the other boy's mouth. Harry can taste himself, which makes it even hotter somehow. The glasses are a bit of a nuisance, so Harry gets rid of them. From this short a distance, it's easier for him to focus on Colin's face without them, anyway.

Which is a mistake, as it turns out, because now he can see how big, blue, innocent and full of the wonder of snogging Harry Potter Colin's eyes really are. They make it very hard for Harry to stay in the predatory mode, and so the snogging threatens to become tender, and he can't have none of that. He pulls away and they pause for a bit, a thin string of saliva still connecting their lips, and somehow it's neither funny nor gross. Colin stares at him in awe and slightly cross-eyed, since he definitely has trouble focusing so near, not being short-sighted like Harry.

Harry groans. Colin is way too cute for his own good. To avoid kissing him the wrong way, you know, the way you're supposed to kiss a nice girl on a first date, all romantically and stuff… you know, as if he liked him, Harry bites the other boy's lower lip instead, hard enough to let him feel the teeth properly, and that helps a bit, and makes Colin gasp in a most exciting fashion. Harry dives down with his mouth to Colin's throat, and lower still, but instead of the younger boy's glowing skin he's met with way too many layers of fabric. Frustrated, Harry grips the collar of Colin's shirt and RIPS, hard. Buttons fly, and he really couldn't care less. He spins himself and Colin around, and then spins Colin for the second time, so that Colin ends up lying face down on that very same bench which he found Harry wanking on earlier, and Harry proceeds to yank off of Colin all that inconvenient clothing that's still covering Colin's slight frame. Post-haste, if you please.

It's easier now, when he doesn't have to look at Colin's face. Merlin knows the body he's just uncovered is tantalising enough. Harry feels his cock lurch in anticipation. Somehow, without glasses, he manages to find his wand again, and mutters a lubrication spell. A magical, transparent thing, something like a force field, encloses his hard-on from the tip to the base, and that means he's ready to go. But he's not so busy as to forget the good manners of preparing the other boy first, so he puts three of his fingers in his mouth and wets them profusely with his spit. He touches Colin's bum with his other hand, wondering how impossibly smooth and nice it feels. Colin takes the hint and spreads his legs wider, and Harry finds his hole with his wet fingers, pushing the first one inside. Colin moans and pushes back, it's obvious this isn't his first time, and soon he's ready for the second. Harry pushes a bit deeper this time and finds a nub inside and that makes Colin gasp much louder.

"Stop… ASKING," Colin says, in between ragged breaths. "GIVE it to me, please!"

Harry pulls out his fingers, positions himself and pushes forward. On the second try he gets it right and with nerve-tickling slowness he sheathes himself inside Colin, holding his breath all that time. It feels hot and tight and absolutely fantastic, and Harry doesn't dare to breath until he's all the way in, his black pubic hair pressed tight against Colin's smooth bum. Then he inhales, deep. And pulls back, not quite so slowly, and pushes back in, again a bit faster.

"Daaamn," moans Colin, "You feel SO much bigger…"

"I know," Harry says, "I mean, Ron's hung like a bloody donkey, but it's unbelievable how much bigger even it feels when he stuffs all of it inside. First time, I thought he was using a bloody baseball bat or something."

"So," Colin says, sounding cheerfully gossipy "you're a bad boy, Harry, cheating on Ron like this…"

"And whose bloody fault is that, may I ask? Besides, it's not like that. He's not my boyfriend or anything. He's just my best mate."

"Who likes to bugger you, apparently."

"Can't really blame him," Harry replies, moving his hips, "this is BRILLIANT!"

And so they go at it, until Harry is panting and Colin constantly moaning, and they both feel the inevitable explosion edging ever closer. When it does, it starts with Colin shouting, and Harry pulling the other boy up against himself, so that he can grab Colin's cock just before the first spurt shoots out and splashes on the bench. It's so hot for Harry, the idea that he made Colin orgasm, that he promply follows suit himself.

Two hours later they have tried three more positions and, aided by a very naughty use of replenishing spell, shot way more spunk than is strictly natural for even teenage boys to manage in one day. Harry is feeling the effort, now, and his muscles complain when he supports himself on top of the younger boy. His skin is both sticky and sweaty and so Harry gives Colin's chest one last, long, delicious lick and then rolls himself off of him.

"What, is that ALL?" Colin asks. "I could still use some more ravishing before dinner."

"Colin, you dog, you're atotal SLUT! We've been doing it for hours. There's absolutely NO way I could go another round just now."

He says that with all due respect, of course. Admiration, even, but it doesn't work as the locker room banter it was intended to be. Colin stiffens and turns away. He seems to be preparing to get to his feet, but Harry grabs his arm and stops him.

"Come here, you" Harry says, and pulls Colin in for a cuddle, but for once Colin seems reluctant, his body unyielding. He won't look at Harry in the eyes, and there's definitely hurt in the curve of his mouth.

"I didn't mean it that way. It was supposed to be funny, not mean. I'm sorry…" Harry says, but Colin still refuses to lift his gaze. And so, accidentally, unplanned, Harry adds one fatal word and calls him "…baby".

And it works wonders. Colin turns back to Harry, his face lights up and he grins so enthusiastically it's hard to believe he's a day older than five and its candy time, never mind fifteen. His body relaxes against Harry, accepting the apology and feeling very nice indeed.

"See, I knew you liked me…" Colin almost purrs with joy, "You're just pretending for my benefit!"

"Shut up, you wanker. Let's go have a shower. And keep it to yourself, please. If Ron ever gets to know I said that," Harry says, "I'll NEVER hear the end of it."

And when Colin tries to speak again, Harry snogs him to keep him quiet. After all, it's hard to speak when your mouth is full of someone else's tongue. It's really nice. He could definitely get used to this.

THE END